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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..a04f579 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #56310 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/56310) diff --git a/old/56310-8.txt b/old/56310-8.txt deleted file mode 100644 index b969861..0000000 --- a/old/56310-8.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,13442 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Undercurrent, by Robert Grant - -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 Undercurrent - -Author: Robert Grant - -Illustrator: F. C. Yohn - -Release Date: January 4, 2018 [EBook #56310] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE UNDERCURRENT *** - - - - -Produced by Al Haines - - - - - - - - -[Frontispiece: Her lover was beside her and was suggesting that he -escort her home.] - - - - - THE - UNDERCURRENT - - BY - - ROBERT GRANT - - - WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY - - _F. C. Yohn_ - - - CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS - NEW YORK :::::::::::::: 1904 - - - - - COPYRIGHT, 1904, BY - CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS - - Published, October, 1904 - - - - - TO MY WIFE - - - - -LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS - -Her lover was beside her and was suggesting that he escort her home . . -. . . . _Frontispiece_ - -"I have missed you two young people at church lately" - -"Oh, Emil, my husband, how could you!" she moaned - -"Give it to me, Paul," demanded the young woman imperiously - -"I am sure that this woman will tell me her story" - -There were moments, even from the first, when he let her perceive that -he regarded her as a social companion - -Constance would find her in possession at Lincoln Chambers - -"I should like to marry because I am in love" - -"Refuse a man like that who's crazy to marry you!" - -The flowers were the bright, shining milestone - -"I have surrendered" - - - - -THE UNDERCURRENT - - -"Those whom God has joined together let no man put asunder." It seemed -to the bride that the Rev. George Prentiss laid especially solemn -stress on these words, and as she listened to the announcement that, -forasmuch as Emil Stuart and Constance Forbes had consented together in -holy matrimony, he pronounced them to be man and wife, her nerves -quivered with satisfaction at the thought that she was Emil's forever. -The deed was done, and she was joyous that the doubt which had harassed -her in her weak moments--whether she was ready to renounce her ambition -to help in the great work of education for the sake of any man--was -solved and merged in the ocean of their love. Doubtless Emil was not -perfect, but she adored him. No one had even hinted that he was not -perfect, but she had made up her mind not to be ridiculous in her -rapture, and to look the probable truth squarely in the face as became -an intelligent woman. She knew that until recently he had been only a -clerk with Toler & Company, lumber merchants, and that he had just -started in business on his own account. He was dependent for support -on his individual labors, but she had in her own name the nice little -nest-egg of five thousand dollars, realized from the sale of the family -homestead at Colton, the country town, ten miles distant, from which, -an orphan, she had come to Benham a year previous. She was marrying -for love a young man who had his own way to make, just as hundreds of -others were doing every day, and she was proud of her part in the -compact. A great happiness had come into her life, almost against her -will, but now that it had come she recognized that it was nature -working in the ordinary way, and that she would not remain single for -all the kindergartens in creation. She had known Emil only a year; -still that year had been one of courtship, and no one had ever spoken -ill of him, though she had been told that Mr. Prentiss, as a rector -charged with overseeing the destinies of friendless girls who were -members of his parish, had made inquiries. Moreover, Mr. Prentiss had -agreed that two young people, situated as they were, whose hearts were -united, did well to marry on a small income and trust somewhat to the -future. How otherwise, as he sagely remarked, was ideal love to -flourish, and were mercenary considerations to be kept at bay? Emil -was twenty-five, and she just twenty. Youthful, but still of a proper -age, and they were growing older every day. Decidedly it was a prudent -love-match, and she had a right to be joyful, for there was nothing to -reproach herself with or to regret. - -It will thus be observed that Constance Forbes was no happy-go-lucky -sort of girl, and that though she was marrying younger than she had -expected, she was marrying with her eyes open. She had scrutinized -severely the romantic episode which had made her and her lover -acquainted, and had even refused him the first time he asked her in -order to counterbalance the glamour resulting from that meeting. The -episode was a sequel to an accident to the train on which she was -travelling from Colton to Benham. The engine ran into the rear of some -freight cars, owing to a misplaced switch, and the tracks were strewed -with splintered merchandise, so that the train was delayed four hours. -The natural thing for passengers with time to kill was to inspect the -wreckage, which, besides the dilapidated railroad apparatus, consisted -of mangled chairs and tables, and bursted bags of grain, a medley of -freight impressive in its disorder. Constance found herself presently -discussing with a young man the injuries to the cow-catcher of the -engine, which had been twisted ludicrously awry. A moment before two -other persons, one of them a woman, had been on the spot, and the -conversation had been innocuously general, but they had drifted off. -Constance was conscious of having noticed the young man in her car, and -of having casually observed that he had an alert expression, and that -his hair rose perpendicularly from his brow, suggesting the -assertiveness of a king-bird. To allow a young man to scrape -acquaintance with her in cold blood would ordinarily have been entirely -repugnant to her ideas of maidenly propriety, but she resisted her -first impulse to turn her back on him and abruptly close the interview -as needlessly harsh. It would surely be prudish to abstain from -examining the battered locomotive, which lay on one side, with its nose -in the air, as though it had fallen in the act of rearing, merely -because a respectable-looking male passenger happened to be equally -interested in the results of the catastrophe. So it chanced that after -they had exchanged observations concerning the injuries to the -overthrown "Vulcan" and speculated as to how long they were likely to -be delayed, their conversation became less impersonal. That is, the -young man informed her that he was in the employ of Toler & Company, -lumber merchants, and was returning to Benham after having made some -collections for them in the neighboring country. Then he was familiar -with Benham? Familiar? He should say so. He had been settled there -for three years, and--(so he gave Constance to understand)--there was -absolutely nothing regarding the place which he could not tell her. -First of all, Benham was a growing, thriving city. Its population had -quadrupled in fifteen years. Think of that! So that now (in 1886) -there were upward of three hundred and fifty thousand souls in the -city's limits. It was a hustling place. A shrewd, energetic man, who -kept his wits active, ought to make his fortune there in ten years, if -he were given a proper chance. Was she going to live in Benham? - -Constance admitted that she was, and, helped along by friendly -inquiries, she told him briefly her story. That she had lost her -father and mother within a few months of each other, and that she had -decided to come to Benham, of which, of course, she had heard as a -progressive city, in order to learn the kindergarten methods of -teaching. Subsequently she hoped to obtain an appointment as a -school-teacher, and so earn her own living. - -"When you've finished your lessons and are ready to teach, let me know. -I may be able to help you. I'm a little in politics myself, and a word -to the school committee from a free and independent constituent might -get you a place." - -He spoke jauntily though respectfully; but the offer reminded Constance -that the conversation was taking a more intimate turn than she had -bargained for. She thanked him, and began to move slowly away, not -with any definite idea of direction, but as a maidenly interruption. -Mr. Stuart--for he had told her his name--kept pace with her and seemed -quite unconscious of her purpose. In the few minutes during which they -had been chatting she had observed that he was somewhat above the -average height and rather spare, with a short mustache which curled up -at the ends and was becoming. Also, that he had small, dark eyes, -which he moved rapidly and which gave him, in conjunction with his -rising brow and hair, a restless, nervous expression. - -As they walked along the track the conductor was coming toward them. -He had been to the telegraph office and was returning with a telegram -in his hands. - -"Well, what are our chances of getting away from here?" Emil asked, -with the manner of a man to whom time is precious. - -"It'll be a good three hours before the wrecking train arrives and the -road is clear." - -The youth and the maid looked at each other and laughed at the -gloominess of the situation. - -"In that case," said Constance, glancing at the sloping banks bordering -the railroad tracks, which were bright with white weed and other flora -of the early summer time, "we shall have to dine on wild flowers." - -"I have some chocolate in my bag." - -Constance flushed slightly with embarrassment. Her random remark -seemed almost to amount to a premeditated invitation to share his -resources. - -Emil's gaze had followed hers in her allusion to the wild flowers. -"I'll tell you what," he exclaimed, impulsively, "since we have three -hours to wait, why shouldn't we escape from this culvert and see what -there is to be seen from the top of the bank? I shall be able to show -you Benham," he added, noticing, perhaps, that she looked doubtful, -"for we are only nine or ten miles away." - -This was tempting. Besides it would surely be ridiculous to remain -where she was rather than explore the country merely because he was a -casual acquaintance and had some chocolate in his travelling bag. The -circumstances were harmless and unavoidable, unless she wished to write -herself down a prude. The result was the logic of common-sense -prevailed, and Constance gave her consent to the proposal. So they -climbed the bank presently, pausing on the way to gather some posies, -with which the party of the second part proceeded to adorn her hat, -after they had established themselves on an eligible fallen tree -commanding a pleasing view. The fallen tree was at the edge of a copse -of pine wood some two hundred yards from the bank. Thus they were -sheltered from the sun. Out of the copse, almost at their feet, ran a -bubbling brook, which added a touch of romance to the landscape rolling -away in undulating and occasionally wooded farming land, as far as the -eye could reach, until it terminated in a stretch of steeples and -towers surmounted by a murky cloud. There was Benham. - -Although they were too distant to discern more than a confused -panorama, Emil essayed a few topographical details. He explained that -twenty-five years earlier Benham had comprised merely a cluster of -frame houses in the valley of the peaceful river Nye, which still -served as an aid to description. Primarily a village on the south side -of the stream, it had first developed in a southerly direction, -spreading like a bursting seed also laterally to east and west. Its -original main street, once bordered by old-fashioned frame houses with -grass-plots and shade trees, had evolved into Central Avenue, at first -the desirable street for residences, but now, and considerably prior to -his advent, the leading retail shopping artery, alive with dry-goods -shops, into which the women swarmed like flies. To the west of Central -Avenue lay the tide of social fashion culminating two miles distant in -the River Drive, a wide avenue of stately private houses, situated -where the Nye made a broad bend to the north, and the new district -beyond the river, where the mansion of Carleton Howard, the railroad -magnate, stood a pioneer among Elysian fields of real estate -enterprise, sanctified by immaculate road surfaces and liberal electric -light. - -Constance listened eagerly. She was interested to know particulars -concerning the city where she was to live, and she enjoyed the lively -sardonic touches which relieved his description. Though possessing an -essentially earnest soul, she was susceptible to humor, and had an -aversion for lack of appreciation of true conditions. - -To the east of Central Avenue, Stuart further explained, lay first the -shops and the business centre, and then the polyglot army of citizens -who worked in the mills, oil yards, and pork factories. Across the -river to the south, approached by seven bridges of iron, replacing two -frail wooden bridges of former days, were the mills and other -industrial establishments. Beyond these still further to the north was -Poland, so called, a settlement of the Poles, favorite resort of the -young ladies of Benham's first families eager to offer the benefits of -religion and civilization to the ignorant poor. Following the Nye in -its sweep to the north, until it deflected again to the east, so as to -run almost parallel to its first course, but in the opposite direction, -were the public park, the land bonded for an Art Museum, Wetmore -College (the Woman's Academy of learning), and the other more or less -ornamental institutions. This region of embryo public buildings, -garnished with august spaces, was a sort of boundary line on the north, -turning the current of industrial population more to the east. Just as -the tide to the west of Central Avenue was one of increasing comfort -and fashion, this to the southeast, stretching out as the city spread, -and forced constantly forward by the encroachments of trade, was one of -common workaday conditions, punctuated (as he phrased it) now and again -by poverty and distress. - -"I tell you, Miss----" - -"Forbes, Constance Forbes is my name." - -"Thank you. I tell you, Miss Forbes, Benham is a wideawake city. We -have all the modern improvements. But the rich man gets the cream -every time. I heard millionaire Carleton Howard, the railroad magnate, -say the other day from the platform, that there is no country in the -world where the poor man is so well off as in this. Yet it's equally -true that the rich are all the time getting richer and the poor poorer. -He neglected to state that." He laughed scornfully, and his eyes -sought Constance's face for approval. She knew little concerning -millionaires or the truth of the proposition he was advancing, but it -interested her to perceive that he was evidently on the side of the -unfortunate, for she cherished a keen pity for the ignorant poor almost -as a heritage. Her father had been a country physician--an energetic, -sympathetic man, whose large vitality had been spent in relieving the -sufferings of a clientage of small tillers of the soil over an area of -fifteen miles. He had often spoken to her with pathos of the patient -struggles of the common people. Her own susceptibility to human -suffering had been early quickened by the destiny of her mother, who -had been thrown from a sleigh shortly after Constance's birth, and had -remained a paralytic invalid to the day of her death, requiring -incessant care. - -"When I run for Congress," he resumed, scowling slightly as he fixed -his gaze on the murky cloud surmounting Benham, "it'll be on a platform -advocating government ownership of railroads, telegraphs, water-works, -electric street cars, and all the other fat things out of which our -modern philanthropists with capital squeeze enormous profits at the -expense of their fellow-citizens. I'm against all that sort of thing. -Buy a gas plant to-day and consolidate it with another to-morrow. -Profit to the promoter two hundred per cent., without leaving the -office. What does the consumer get? Cheaper gas and greater -efficiency. That's the fine-sounding tag; and some of the horny-handed -multitude are guileless enough to believe it. It won't be long though -now before I make my own pile," he added, not quite relevantly. "I'd -have made it before this if they hadn't hindered me." - -Constance perceived that he expected her to inquire what this meant, -and she was curious to know. So she asked. - -"My employers, Toler & Company. If I had had the capital and the -opportunities of those people, I should be wearing diamonds. I've -tried to point out to them more than once that they were throwing big -chances away by being so conservative and old-fashioned in their -methods instead of branching out boldly and making a ten strike. One -thing is certain, I'm not going to invent ideas for them for a pitiful -one thousand dollars a year much longer. If they think they can afford -not to raise my salary and give me a chance to show what I can do, I'm -going to let them try after January first. It isn't very pleasant, -Miss Forbes, to be doing most of the work and see someone else reaping -all the profits. They can't help making money, old fogies as they are." - -It was certainly a galling situation. Constance, who was young -herself, felt that she sympathized with his desire to compel -recognition. - -"It doesn't seem right at all," she said, "that you should be kept -down." - -"I've made up my mind to give them notice that I must have an interest -in the business after the first of the year, or I quit and start on my -own account. I've my eye on a man with five thousand dollars who will -go into partnership with me I hope." - -Constance thought of her own five thousand dollars. She would almost -like to lend it to him, though, of course, that was out of the -question. Still, there would be no harm in offering moral support. -"If I were a man," she said, "and had faith in my own abilities, I -wouldn't remain in a subordinate position a moment longer than was -really necessary." - -In response to this note of sympathy Emil opened his bag and produced -two sticks of chocolate. He broke them apart and presented one to his -companion. He also exhibited a compressible metal drinking-cup, which -he filled from the bubbling brook. A crow cawed in the pine copse as -though to call attention to the idyl, but only the two philosophers on -the fallen tree-trunk were within hearing of his note of irony, and -they regarded it merely as an added rural charm. - -"Would you object to my smoking my pipe?" - -"Not in the least. My father was devoted to his pipe." - -Another bond of sympathy. Or at least an indication to the swain that -here was a maiden who was no spoil-sport and who would not have to be -wooed by the sacrifice of personal comfort. Moreover, it was not lost -on him that she was an attractive-looking maiden, and that her voice -was well modulated and refined. Yet he was not thinking of her, but -merely of her sex in general, when he said, "Besides, I hope to be -married some day. How could I support a wife in Benham on one thousand -dollars a year in the manner in which I should wish her to live?" - -Constance could not answer this question, and did not try. It belonged -to the category of remarks which were to be treated by a single woman -as monologues. But she was keenly interested. One thousand dollars a -year did not seem to her a very pitiful sum for a young couple just -starting in life. She had heard her father say that when he married -her mother he had only a hundred dollars in the world, and no assurance -of practice. But that was not in Benham. She had already divined that -Benham was to be a land of surprises. At all events she could not help -admiring Mr. Stuart's chivalric attitude toward his future wife. His -ambition was obviously quickened by the thought of his future -sweetheart, whoever she might be; which was an agreeable tribute to her -own sex, suggesting susceptibility to sentiment. - -"Yes, I'd have been married before this if Toler & Company had not, as -you say, kept me down," he continued, pensively, blowing a ring of -smoke to emphasize his mood. "When after working hard all day I go to -my room at night and take up my violin, I often think that if I could -play to the woman I loved, instead of to the blank wall, how much -happier I should be. But I suppose some of my friends would declare -that I was a fool to desire a yoke around my neck before fate placed it -there." - -His own readiness to relieve the stress of his confession by a sardonic -turn counteracted the constraint which his intimate avowal had aroused. -Incredible as it is that a man in his sober senses should offer himself -to a woman the first time he beholds her, no woman is altogether -unaware that he is liable to do so. A modest and thoughtful young girl -shrinks from precipitate progress in affairs of the heart. Obviously -the ground was less dangerous than it had for a moment appeared, but -Constance sought the avenue of escape which his allusion to music -offered. Besides it pleased her to hear that he was ęsthetic in his -interests. - -"You play on the violin, then?" she asked. "I envy anybody who has the -talent and the opportunity for anything of that sort. I sing a little, -but my voice is uncultivated, for in Colton there was no one to tell us -our faults." The earnest gleam in her fine dark eyes seemed to second -the fresh enthusiasm of her tone. - -The warning scream of the whistle, not the voice of the crow, broke in -at this point on their preoccupation with each other. This was the -romantic episode from which their acquaintance dated--an episode which -might readily have signified nothing. But on the other hand, it -naturally supplied to the party of the second part a fair field of -memory in which her imagination might wander when stirred by the -subsequent attentions of this young knight with sympathy for the -unfortunate, resolute confidence in his own abilities, generous views -in regard to matrimony and a sensitive, ęsthetic soul. For Emil Stuart -sought her out at once, visited her at her lodgings and gave -unmistakable signs that his purpose was both honorable and definite. -Within six months she knew from his own lips that he wished to make her -his wife. She took another three in which to conquer her scruples and -maidenly disinclination to be won too easily. Why should she not -yield? He was her first lover, and she loved him, and he declared with -fervor that he adored her. Contact with the conditions of a large city -had shown her unmistakably that only after years of struggle could she -hope to be more than a mere hand-maiden in the work of education, and -that during the early period of her employment, if not indeed for life, -the hours of work would be long and confining and her pleasures few. -Here was a companion who would provide her with a home, and upon whom -the tenderness of her woman's nature could be freely bestowed. It was -the old, old story, she said to herself, but was there a better one? - - - - -II - -The young couple bought a small house on the outskirts of the city, -some distance beyond the Nye, where it flows at right angles with its -original course, and in the general region of fastidious growth, but in -a settlement of inexpensive villas to one side of the trend of fashion. -The bridegroom had not forgotten his liberal intention to begin -housekeeping on a somewhat more ambitious scale than his salary as a -clerk had warranted. He was now the senior partner in the firm of -Stuart & Robinson, lumber dealers, which had been in existence six -months. He had parted from his employers, Toler & Company, on the -first of January, because of their refusal to accede to his demands, -and had been able to persuade the comrade with five thousand dollars, -to whom he had referred at his first meeting with Constance to enter -into a business alliance. Robinson was three years his junior, and -without commercial experience, but eager to turn the windfall, which -had come to him through the death of an aunt into a cool million. What -could be more natural than to take advantage of the experience which -Stuart offered him--an experience which gave promise of swift and -lucrative operations in the near future? - -It was a very modest establishment, from the standpoint of affluence. -A neat little house of eight rooms supplied with modern improvements, -and, though one of a builder's batch, designed with some regard for -artistic effect, which indicated that a preference for harmonious -beauty was working in the popular mind of Benham against the idols, -colorless uniformity and bedizened ugliness. To the bride, whose -experience of housekeeping was limited to a country town where -colorless uniformity ruled undisturbed and modern improvements were -unknown, the expenditure of her nest-egg of five thousand dollars in -this complete little home seemed an investment no less enchanting than -wise. Five thousand for the house, with a subsequent mortgage upon it -of one thousand for the purchase of the furniture and to provide a -small bank balance for emergencies. This was her contribution to the -domestic partnership, and she rejoiced to think that her ability to -help to this extent would leave Emil a free hand for the display of his -business talent. - -The basis of a newly married woman's peace of soul is trust. She feels -that the responsibility is on her husband to make good the manly -qualities with which she has endowed him, and because of which she has -consented to become his mate. Occasionally during the first few months -of her married life Constance laughed to think that all her maidenly -eagerness to solve the riddle of life brilliantly, and all her profound -searching of the mysteries of the universe should have ended in her -becoming an every-day housewife with dustpan and brush, and the wife of -one who, to all outward appearances, was an every-day young man. But -her laugh savored of gladness. She had given herself to him because -she had faith that his energy, self-reliance, fearless humor and -sympathetic hatred of shams would distinguish him presently from the -common herd of men, and vindicate her infatuation. She had given -herself to him, besides, because he loved her--a delightful -consciousness. Accordingly, she enclosed herself in the web of -happiness which her confidence in him had spun about her, and took up -her domestic duties with light-hearted devotion. - -Nevertheless, no woman emerges from her honeymoon with exactly the same -estimate of her lover as before. If nothing else, she has seen his -mental and moral characteristics in their undress, so to speak, and -become habituated to their sublimity. We may be no less fond of a -person whose anecdotes have grown familiar to us, and analogously a -wife does not weary of her husband's qualities merely because they have -lost the glamor of novelty. On the contrary she is apt to continue to -adore them because they are his. Still she feels free to scrutinize -them closely and--unconsciously at least--to submit them to the test of -her own silent judgment. She discovers, too, of course, that he has -sides and idiosyncrasies the existence of which she never suspected. -Ordinarily she finds to her surprise that his attitude in regard to -this or that matter has shifted perceptibly since marriage, so that, -instead of being lukewarm or ardent, as the case may be, he has become -almost strenuous or indifferent in his attitude. Hence she divines -that during their courtship some of his real opinions and tendencies -have been kept in retreat. - -Constance sensibly had decided in advance that Emil was not perfect, so -she was prepared to discover a blemish here and there. In spite of her -happiness it became obvious to her during the first six months of their -married life that the self-confidence which had attracted her verged at -times on braggadocio, and moreover that opposition or disappointment -made him sour and morose. If his affairs were prospering, his spirits -rose, his wits scintillated, and he spoke of the world with a gay, if -sardonic, forbearance, which suggested that it was soon to be his -foot-ball. But if matters went wrong, he not only became depressed, -but was prone to dwell upon his own ill-luck, and inveigh bitterly -against the existing conditions of society. She had noticed from the -first days of their acquaintance that there appeared to be an -inconsistency between his eagerness to grow rich and his enmity toward -the capitalists of Benham; but she had gathered that he was merely -eager to put himself in a position where his sympathy for the toiling -mass could be fortified by the opportunities which wealth would afford. -But now that his feverish absorption in business had apparently -banished all interest in philanthropic undertakings from his thoughts, -the inconsistency was more conspicuous. - -Constance spoke to Emil about this at last. Naturally, she broached -the topic when he was in one of his sanguine moods. In response he -took out his pocket-book and asked her how much she required, having -jumped to the conclusion that she was beating around the bush and had -some particular object of charity in view. - -"You don't understand, exactly, Emil," she answered. "I'm not asking -for money; I was merely hoping that having me to provide for isn't -going to cut you off from your former associations--to lessen your -sympathy with political movements for the protection of the people such -as you used to take part in before we were married." - -Stuart frowned, and thrust his hands deep into his pockets as he was -apt to do when he felt his oats. "You don't seem to realize, -Constance, that a man starting in business needs all his energy and -watchfulness to avoid having his head thrust under water by the fellows -who are on the surface of the commercial whirlpool and who don't want -company. When I've got the sharks in my line of trade where I want -them, which is, metaphorically speaking, at the bottom of the pond, -it'll be time enough to take up politics. You'd like to see me in -Congress some day, wouldn't you? Well, that will be plain sailing for -me in this district as soon as I control the lumber business of Benham, -little saint." - -This sounded plausible, and did not seem to admit of argument, provided -the consummation of the business supremacy indicated by her husband was -not deferred too long. She dismissed the matter from her mind for the -time being. It was less easy to dispose of another tendency which had -revealed itself in unmistakable guise since their marriage, and this -was Emil's indifferent attitude, not merely toward her form of -religious faith, but toward all religion. Within a short time after -their acquaintance began she had discovered that he was not an -Episcopalian, and that his views regarding the spiritual problems of -the universe were not those of orthodox Christians. But on the other -hand, although he was fond even then of blowing down her card-houses, -as he called them, with an occasional blast of scientific truth, he had -been ready to accompany her to church and had never seemed lacking in -reverence. She had asked herself the question why she should stifle -her love for him merely because his conception of the eternal mysteries -did not coincide with her own, and she had answered it by the -independent assurance that his attitude toward life was the important -consideration. She had even been fascinated by his broad outlook on -the universe, with his flashing eyes and his righteous contempt for -some of the dogmas of the sects. He had seemed to her imagination at -such times almost as a reforming archangel purging away the dross of -superstition and convention from the essentials of religious faith. He -did not believe in the miracles, it is true, because he regarded them -as violations of the laws of the universe; but was he not a firm -believer in the spirit of Christian conduct? - -She had reasoned thus as a maiden, and had never doubted the soundness -of her self-justification. But the sequel was disturbing to her peace -of mind and to her hopes. It was not Emil's refusal to go to church, -nor his dedication of the Sabbath to mere rest and recreation which -distressed her, but his scornful tone in regard to any form of -religious ceremonial; his scornful tone toward her own reverence for -the faith in which she had been educated. Even the term of endearment -which he coined for her, "little saint," was a jocose and condescending -appellation reflecting on her susceptibility to ideas which clever -people had discarded as fatuous. She could have borne without -complaint going to church alone had he been willing to respect her -opinions as she respected his. But on her return from service he was -sure to greet her with some ironical jest which made painfully clear -that he regarded her habit of worship as a sign of mental inferiority. -His own habit on Sunday was to remain in bed until after the church -hour. Then he would establish himself in a loose-fitting woolen -garment, which he called his smoking-jacket, on the porch or in the -sitting-room and read the Sunday papers, with a pipe in his mouth. -Sometimes he played on his violin, and by the time Constance returned -he was ready for a short walk, ostensibly for the sake of exercising a -small black and white terrier. His wife could not accompany him on -this stroll, for she could not neglect their mid-day dinner, and when -he sat down at table he was apt, if the weather was fine, to refer -pathetically to the sin of having wasted it in the city. "If only you -were content, little saint, to worship nature with me," he would say, -"we would get away into the country with a luncheon basket the first -thing in the morning and make a day of it in the woods." - -There was something winsome in this proposition, especially as the -inability to enjoy an outing because of her reluctance to renounce -church worship seemed to spoil his day in a double sense. For, as a -consequence, he ate a huge Sunday dinner, including two bottles of -beer, smoked more than his wont, and after a tirade against the evils -of monopoly or some kindred topic invariably fell into a heavy slumber -on the lounge, from which he did not awaken until nearly sunset. - -"Another Sunday wasted," he more than once remarked by way of -melancholy comment on this state of affairs. - -No wonder that Constance was perplexed as to her duty. Since coming to -Benham she had been a member of Rev. George Prentiss's parish. Her -mother was of English descent, and Constance had been brought up in the -Episcopal faith. At Colton there had been no church of that -denomination, and to attend the Episcopal service one had to drive or -walk two miles to a neighboring village. It had often seemed to -Constance more important to remain at home with her invalid mother than -to take this excursion. Consequently, during her girlhood, she had -been irregular in her attendance at church. Frequently, in order to be -able to return home more speedily, she had worshipped at the Methodist -or Unitarian meeting-house in the village. Sometimes she had stayed -away altogether; therefore she understood the fascination of communion -with books or with spring buds or autumn leaves as a substitute for -worship in the sanctuary. Her untrammelled experience had made her -open-minded and independent, but on the other hand the difficulty of -kneeling at her own shrine had nourished her sentiment for the -Episcopal faith, so that she had rejoiced spiritually in the -opportunity, which her residence in Benham afforded, to become a -regular and devoted member of Mr. Prentiss's flock. Moreover, the -vital character of St. Stephen's as a religious body had appealed to -her. The little church near Colton had been a peaceful and poetic, but -poor and unenterprising establishment. Contrasted with it, St. -Stephen's appeared a splendid and powerful influence for righteousness, -stirring deeply her ęsthetic sensibilities, and at the same time -proving its living, practical grasp on human character through its able -pastor and active organization. St. Stephen's never slumbered; St. -Stephen's prided itself on its ardent faith and essentially modern -spirit; and St. Stephen's, by common acceptance, was synonymous with -its rector, Rev. George Prentiss. - -Mr. Prentiss had grown up with the church. That is, he had been curate -to the Rev. Henry Glynn, an Englishman who had selected Benham as a -promising pasture for the propagation of the Episcopal faith beyond the -pale of the mother country, who had gone forth into the wilderness and -had lived to see a goodly flock of sheep browsing beneath his -ministrations. Mr. Glynn was a pioneer, and had gone forth in the -early seventies when Benham was in the throes of rapid progress and -extraordinary development from month to month. His mission had been to -spread the tenets of his sect by the zeal and eloquence of his -testimony, and to provide a suitable edifice for the human souls -attracted by his teachings. In his time the congregation forsook the -small and primitive structure, erected in hot haste within a year of -his arrival, for a commodious and sufficiently ęsthetic building. -Before his death, which occurred prematurely, Benham had become a large -and important municipality. His successor found himself not only the -pastor of the leading Episcopal Church of the city--which had also in -the process of social evolution become the most fashionable and -probably the richest church in the city--but a shepherd in a wilderness -of a different sort. In other words, he was brought suddenly face to -face with the problems which confront earnest spirits eager to redeem -human nature in a huge industrial community. The former wilderness had -blossomed, even with the rose, but the thistles, tares, and rank grass -which fought for mastery with the wholesome vegetation had -revolutionized the soil. There were scores of saloons in Benham; there -was a herd of immoral women on the streets of Benham; and, most -perplexing problem of all, perhaps, there were, only a mile apart, the -picturesque neighborhood of the Riverside Drive with its imposing, -princely, private mansions, and Smith Street, boulevard of unwholesome -tenement-houses, garnished with rumshops and squalid lives--contrast -repugnant and disconcerting to American ideals, and to him as an -American. - -But Rev. George Prentiss was not the man to shrink from deep and -important responsibilities. On the contrary, it might be said of him -that he revelled in them. The consciousness that, in spite of Benham's -mushroom-like growth as a proud testimonial to the sacredness of -institutions established by the free-born, the city had begun closely -to resemble large cities everywhere was sobering, but on the whole, -inspiriting to him as a worker. His mission was clearly disclosed to -him--a mission worthy of the energies of a clergyman eager to bring his -church into closer touch with everyday life and common human -conditions. For Mr. Prentiss as an American and a churchman was -ambitious for the future of the Episcopal faith. His predecessor and -friend had seen in their pastorate only a glorious continuation of -English orthodoxy--a spiritual revolt from dissent, transcendentalism -and cold, intellectual independence, which would, in the end, gather -sixty million people into a Protestant fold, national in its title and -dimensions. Mr. Prentiss shared this delectable vision, but he would -not have American Episcopacy a mere blind imitation of the mother -church or a colonial dependency. He felt that it behooved those of his -faith on this side of the Atlantic to gird their loins zealously, and -to guide their sheep fearlessly, receiving with respectful attention -the interpretations of the spiritual lords of Great Britain regarding -dogma, but exercising intelligent discretion in regard to their -adoption. This attitude, which might be called patriotism, in some -sense reflected the pride which Dante, that stern censor of prelates, -condemns. Was the Church of England to prescribe doctrine to the -thriving, hardy child of its loins forever? Surely not, now that that -child, waxing in size and resources and dignified with power, promised -soon to rival its parent. It was agreeable to the rector of St. -Stephen's to reflect that the tide of fashion was bearing the children -of Unitarian and other indeterminate faiths into the fold of the true -and living church of Christ. It was also agreeable to behold in his -mind's eye that church--the American church--taking advantage of this -splendid opportunity and accepting with fearless and uncompromising -zeal the challenge of infidelity and materialism. The people were -tired, he believed, of intellectual, spiritual dissipation, in which -each soul formed its own conception of God, and defined the terms of -its own compact with Him. They were welcoming fervor, passion, color -and all the symbols of a faith which beholds in man a miserable sinner -redeemed through the blood of Christ. If the people of his nationality -had been reluctant in the days of their early history, when population -was sparse and sin was kept at bay by primitive economic conditions, to -admit that man was a sinner, could they doubt it now? Was not Benham -with its bustling, seething, human forces an eloquent testimonial to -the reality of evil and the intensity of the struggle between the -powers of darkness? The Church's mission--his mission--was to take an -active part, in a modern spirit, in the great work of regeneration by -bringing light to the blind, sympathy and relief to the down-trodden -and protection to the oppressed. - -Mr. Prentiss had carried his theories energetically into practice. He -had striven to make St. Stephen's a tabernacle for the prosperous and -the fortunate and also for the desolate and the friendless. His wish -would have been to see them intermingled at morning service without -regard to vested rights, but his wardens assured him that the finances -of the church could not be conducted successfully except on the basis -of inviolable pew ownership until after the morning service had begun. -But he was able to throw the church open in the afternoon to the -general public, and to reserve in the morning certain gallery and less -desirable benches for the accommodation of young men and women students -who wished to worship regularly and could not afford to hire seats. If -it was at first a tribulation to him that his congregation was rich and -fashionable and a little stolid, their liberality on collection days -was a great compensation, for it gave him scope for extending his -influence along the line of his ambition by the establishment of the -mission church, known as the Church of the Redeemer, in the heart of -Benham's arid social quarter, as an adjunct to St. Stephen's, and to be -maintained by the generosity of that body of Christians. When this -undertaking was in full operation, under the direction of a competent -curate, Mr. Prentiss experienced fewer qualms as he looked down from -his reading-desk at the gay bonnets and costly toilets of his own -parishioners. He had been assured by several women active in church -work that the independent poor were not fond of worshipping where their -clothes would show at a disadvantage. As a Christian who was an -American, he deplored the formation of classes in the sheep-fold of the -church; yet he reasoned that the preferences of human nature could not -be ignored altogether in a matter of this kind, and it was evident that -his parishioners preferred to worship God in full possession of their -property rights, surrounded by their social acquaintance. There was a -zest, too, in the knowledge that he was the rector of the important and -powerful people of the city, and that he had the opportunity to -denounce the commercial spirit of the age in the presence of men like -Carleton Howard, the millionaire, and women like his sister, Mrs. -Randolph Wilson, and their friends. If he could reach their hearts, -what might he not hope for? Obviously by the support of this class the -Church could not fail to increase its revenues and extend its power. -The triumph of the Church was after all, for him, the essential -thing--the illumination of the souls of men through faith in the -Christian ideal. So with this end constantly in view, Rev. George -Prentiss ministered to his well-favored congregation in St. Stephen's, -and vicariously, and often by personal service, conducted a crusade -against ignorance and sin in the Church of the Redeemer and its -neighborhood. - - - - -III - -Constance Forbes had been one of the students who found a haven on the -free benches at St. Stephen's. Almost at once Mr. Prentiss noticed her -and, struck by her interesting face, he sent the church deaconess, Mrs. -Hammond, to visit her at her lodgings. She was invited to join a Bible -class of young women of her own age, and welcomed to the social parlor -in the vestry provided for girls who, like herself, were strangers in -Benham. Here there were magazines, writing materials, and afternoon -tea. While availing herself of these privileges, Constance frequently -met her rector. He inquired sympathetically concerning her work and -aspirations, and showed afterward that he kept her distinctly in mind. -She felt that she could freely consult him if she were in need of -advice; once or twice she did consult him about her reading; and she -was gratified by the interest which he took in her marriage. - -Consequently, the idea of not attending morning service was distressing -to her. She felt sure that Mr. Prentiss would notice it and be -disappointed. Yet, what were Mr. Prentiss and his feelings in -comparison with her obligation to her husband? Emil's Sundays were -spoiled because she would not accompany him to the country instead of -going to church. His attitude was unreasonable and absurd, but the -fact remained that he did not go alone, and lounged at home instead. -After all, she was no longer a girl, and her religious faith would not -be imperilled were she to miss church now and then. Moreover, though -she held fast to her creed and deplored Emil's radical views, she knew -in her heart that she was more critical than formerly of what she heard -in church, and that she was sometimes driven by her doubts as to the -possibility of supernatural happenings to seek refuge behind the -impenetrable fortress of a righteous life. There she was safe and -happy, and free, it seemed to her, from the responsibility of harassing -her young housewife's brains with non-essentials. Might it not be for -her own advantage to take a respite from religious functions? -Certainly her companionship to Emil seemed more important at the moment -than her own habit of public worship. - -She began by staying away from church occasionally. Emil expressed -delight at her reasonableness and carried out with zest his plan of a -Sunday outing. It was a simple matter on their bicycles, or by a few -minutes in the train, to reach country air and sylvan scenes, and he -was entirely satisfied to spend the day in tramping through the woods -and fields, stopping to fish or to lie in the sun as the humor seized -him. The working-man's Sabbath, he termed it. The programme was -restful and alluring to Constance also. Her husband on these occasions -seemed less at odds with the world, and willing to enjoy himself -without rancor or argument. After their luncheon he would smoke -complacently for awhile and then take up his fiddle and practise upon -it with genuine content for an hour or more, while she sat with her -back against a tree or a bank, reading. He still drank his bottles of -beer, but if he slumbered, it was only for a brief period. He never -neglected his fiddle, and its influence appeared, as it were, to soothe -his savage breast, and to make him good-humored and agreeably -philosophic. He was too fond of theorizing to neglect altogether these -opportunities for the enunciation of his grievances against -civilization, but he was lively instead of bitter, a distinction which -meant much to his wife. - -When their first baby was born, these Sunday excursions were -temporarily discontinued; but Constance was eager to renew them, for -Emil, after going alone a few times, relapsed into his old habits. -Accordingly, as soon as the little one was able to toddle, a child's -wagon was procured, which Emil was ready to draw, and by avoiding -fences and other barriers, the difficulties presented by this new tie -were overcome. By the time the child was a year and a half old, -Constance realized that she had been to church but once in the last -twelve months. - -This had been partly due to the action of the rector of St. Stephen's, -for Constance knew within a few weeks of her first absences from church -that her conduct had been noticed. The curate, Mr. Starkworth, -inquired at the door if there had been illness in the family. Later -the deaconess made a call of friendly observation, in the course of -which it transpired that Mr. Prentiss had observed that Mrs. Stuart no -longer occupied her seat. The culprit did not attempt to explain, and -within a fortnight she received a visit from the rector himself. No -one could have been more affable and reassuring. He established -himself in an easy chair and accepted graciously the cigar which Emil -proffered him. He was a large man of dignified mien and commanding -person, clerical as to his dress and visage, but with a manner of -conversation approximating that of men of the world--an individual -manifestation which was intended to reveal a modern spirit. He was -clearly a person with whom liberties could not be taken, and yet -evidently one who desired to divest his point of view of cant, and to -put religion on a man to man, business basis so far as was consistent -with his sacred calling. He asked genial questions concerning their -domestic welfare, and the progress of the new lumber firm, spoke -shrewdly of local politics in which he supposed that Stuart was -engaged, and sought obviously to give the impression that he was an -all-round man in his sympathies, and that he took an active interest in -temporal matters. When at last there was a favorable pause in the -current of this secular conversation, Mr. Prentiss laid his hands on -his knees, and, bending forward and looking from one to the other in a -friendly way, said with decision: - -"I have missed you two young people at church lately." - -[Illustration: "I have missed you two young people at church lately."] - -Constance winced at the inquiry, and her eyes fell beneath the -clergyman's searching gaze. She could not deny the impeachment, which -was embarrassing. At the same time the color had scarcely mounted to -her cheeks before she felt the force of her defence rising to her -support, and she looked up. She appreciated that it was incumbent on -her, as the active church member, to respond, and she became suddenly -solicitous lest Emil might, and so make matters worse. In truth, -Emil's first impulse had been toward anger. It was one of his maxims -not to submit to browbeating. But what he regarded as the humor of the -proceeding changed his wrath into scorn, and he closed his teeth on his -pipe with the dogged air of a master of the situation willing to be -amused withal. Mr. Prentiss divined in a flash, from the insolence of -this expression, that he had to deal with a hopeless case--so far as -the human soul can ever seem hopeless to the missionary--a contemptuous -materialist, and his own countenance grew grave as he turned back to -the wife. - -"Yes, we have been very little, Mr. Prentiss. My husband, you know, -does not belong to your church. He went with me while we were engaged, -but--but now I think I can help him best by staying away for the -present." - -"You go elsewhere, then?" - -"No. We do not go to church. We spend our Sundays in the country--in -the fresh air, walking and resting. We take our luncheon, and my -husband brings his fiddle and his fishing rod." - -Constance marvelled at her own boldness, and at the ardor with which -she delivered her plea of justification. - -"I understand," said Mr. Prentiss. His tone was sober, but not -impatient. The argument for a day of rest and recreation for the tired -man of affairs was nothing new to him. Nor was Mr. Prentiss ignorant -of its plausible value. He wished to meet it without temper, as one -rational being discussing with another, notwithstanding eternal -verities were concerned. - -"Supposing, Mrs. Stuart, that everyone were to reason in the same way, -what would become of our churches?" - -"They would have to go out of commission," muttered Emil with delighted -brusqueness. - -The rector saw fit to bear this brutality without offence. He ignored -the commentator with his eyes, as though to indicate that his mission -was solely to the wife, but he answered, - -"They would, and the Christian faith would perish in the process. Are -you, Mrs. Stuart," he continued, "prepared to do without the offices of -religion, and to substitute for them a pagan holiday?" - -"We pass the day very quietly and simply," said Constance. "We disturb -no one and interfere with no one." - -"But you become pagans, utterly." - -"I try to think that God hears my prayers in the open air no less than -in church, while I am keeping my husband company." It wounded her to -oppose her rector, yet the need of a champion for her husband's cause -supplied her with speech, and gave to her countenance quiet -determination. Constance possessed one of those lithe, nervous -personalities, so frequently to be met with in American women of every -class, the signal attribute of which is bodily and mental refinement. -Her hair was dark, her face thin, her eyes brown and wistful, her -figure tall and elastic; her pretty countenance had the charm of -temperament rather than mere flesh and blood, and its sympathetic, -intelligent comeliness suggested spiritual vigor. - -Mr. Prentiss was not blind to these qualities. They had attracted him -at the beginning of their acquaintance, and he was the more solicitous -on account of them to reclaim her from error. - -"God hears your prayers wherever you utter them, be assured of that. -But I ask you to consider whether the habit of neglecting public -worship is not a failure in reverence to the Christ who listens to our -supplications and without whose aid we are helpless to overcome sin." - -Emil had been delighted by his wife's sturdy attitude. Now that a -question of doctrine was brought into the discussion, he felt that the -time had come for him to intervene again. "We who worship in the -presence of nature are not hampered by dogmas of that kind," he said. -"Temptation is temptation, and I for one have never been able to -understand why the man who gets the better of it isn't entitled to the -credit of his strength and sense. My wife looks at such things very -much as I do." - -"Not altogether, Emil. You know I miss not going to church." - -"I have never prevented you from going." - -"But you have discountenanced it, man. It is to please you, and to -humor your views that your wife is sacrificing her most sacred -convictions," Mr. Prentiss exclaimed with a touch of sternness. - -"You think church-going of the utmost importance; I do not. There's -where we differ. Everyone must decide those questions for himself--or -herself." - -The rector resented the smug assurance of the retort by a frown and a -twist of his shoulders, as though he were sorry that he had -condescended to bandy words with this irreverent person. - -"Yes, we all must," he said, addressing Constance. "'He that loveth -father or mother more than me is not worthy of me.'" - -He regretted the next instant having indulged in this clerical formula, -which was foreign to his usual method. - -Constance flushed at the words of Scripture, then she drew herself up -slightly and said: - -"I am very sorry, indeed, to disappoint you, Mr. Prentiss, but I can't -promise to attend church regularly at present. Perhaps it is true, as -my husband says, that my opinions have changed somewhat in regard to -points of faith. I hope--I shall pray that after a time we may both -come back to you." - -There was no mistaking the finality of this unequivocal but gently -uttered speech, and Mr. Prentiss knew that one of the signs of a man of -the world is the capacity to take a hint. Though it galled him to -leave this attractive member of his flock in the clutches of one so -apparently unfit to appreciate her bodily or spiritual graces, he -recognized that to press the situation at this point could result only -in separating her still further from the influence of the church. "You -shall have my prayers, too--both of you," he said, fervently. Then he -arose and resumed the demeanor of a friendly caller. - -But Emil, now that he had shown clearly that he had the courage of his -convictions, felt the need of vindicating his character as a host. He -said jauntily, "I hope there's no offence in standing up for what one -believes to be true. It's one of the greatest poets, you know, who -wrote - - There lives more faith in honest doubt, - Believe me, than in half the creeds." - - -"You young whipper snapper!" was Mr. Prentiss's unuttered comment, but -he did not relax his lay serenity of manner save by the slight vein of -sarcasm which his words contained. "No offence, certainly. But you -should also bear in mind, young man, that others no less mentally -qualified than yourself have pondered the problems of the universe and -come to very different conclusions. A man takes large responsibilities -upon himself in deciding to deprive his wife and children of the -comforts of religion." - -"I am anxious that my children when they grow up may not be obliged, as -I was, to unlearn what they were taught to believe in their youth," -Emil retorted with smiling effrontery. He was pleased with his wife -and with himself and he was glad to get in a final body blow on the -person of this officious slummer, as he subsequently described their -visitor. - -"I am not unfamiliar with that line of argument," said Mr. Prentiss, in -the act of departure. "But I invite you to consider whether your -children, when they are old enough to think for themselves, will be -grateful for the substitute which you offer for doctrine. They ask for -bread, and what do you give them? A stone." - -Emil laughed. He was content to let the parson have the last word. He -stood for a moment on the door-step watching him march down the street. -He felt that he had turned the tables on him completely and had thereby -won a victory for clear thinking and freedom of thought. He exclaimed -exultantly as he re-entered the parlor, "I guess that'll teach the old -duck to stay in his own barn-yard and not come waddling down here to -try to get us to believe that the world was made in seven days and -Jonah was swallowed by the whale." - -Constance, who had fallen into troubled reverie, looked up and -exclaimed with emphasis, "Mr. Prentiss is a very reasonable man about -such matters, Emil. He used particularly to tell his Bible class that -the language of the Old Testament is sometimes metaphorical." - -"Yes, I know how the clergy jump and change feet to avoid being -cornered. I'm aware they explain that the seven days were not our days -of twenty-four hours, but were symbolic terms for geological stretches -of time. Do you call that ingenuous?" - -Constance winced. It happened that Mr. Prentiss had offered just this -explanation of holy writ, and somehow, now that Emil held it up to -scorn, the rector's commentary appeared flimsy. She sighed, then with -emotion said, "Emil, I wish you would tell me what you really do -believe." - -"Believe?" He smiled indulgently as he echoed his wife's inquiry, but -his eyes snapped and his shock of hair seemed to stand up straighter. -His manner expressed a mixture of amused condescension and the tartness -of a dogged spirit suspicious of attack. "I believe, for one thing, -that the laws of nature are never violated, and that their integrity is -a grander attribute of divinity than the various sensational devices -which the orthodox maintain that an all-wise God employs to attract the -attention of men to Himself. I believe also that you in your secret -soul entirely agree with me." - -Constance was silent a moment. "And yet you haven't answered my -question, Emil. You haven't told me what you do believe. Why isn't -religion just as real and true a part of man as any other instinct of -his being? It has been a constantly growing attribute." - -"And the nonsense is being gradually squeezed out of it. Why should I -accept the dogma of that reverend father in God that a man can do -nothing by his own efforts? Isn't it a finer thought that we grow by -virtue of our struggles and that the free and independent soul wins the -battle of life by making the most of itself?" - -Emil spoke with fierce rhetoric. To his wife's ear he seemed to be -pointing out besides that his own soul was fighting this battle and -that he was willing to be judged by the results regardless of doctrine. -Constance had long ago convinced herself that his bark was worse than -his bite; that he believed more than he really admitted of the -essentials of religion; that he acknowledged his responsibility to God -and was devoting his days to advancing the useful work of the world, -and incidentally providing for her happiness at the same time. His -plea for credit to the independent soul which overcame temptation and -obstacles was, at least, manly, and a sign of courage. She scarcely -heeded the quotation from the "Rubaiyat," which he was murmuring as a -corollary to his apostrophe to free and noble endeavor. - - O thou who didst with pitfall and with gin - Beset the path I was to wander in, - Thou wilt not with predestined evil round - Enmesh and then impute my fall to sin? - - -She had heard him quote these lines and others of like import before, -and she had learned some of them by rote. She recognized their charm -and cleverness and to a certain extent their plausibility; but she had -not the slightest impulse to revolutionize her own faith. Her -absorbing thought, for the moment, was how to be true to her husband -without being false to the church. Mr. Prentiss, in spite of his -appeal, had left her conscience unconvinced, and now her clear-headed, -fearless Emil had suddenly given her soul the cue to expression. Her -brown eyes kindled rapturously and trustfully as she said: - -"It's the life after all which counts, isn't it? Everything else is of -secondary importance." - -"Of course," said Emil. "And when it comes to that," he added, -"there's no one in the world who can pick a flaw in yours, you little -saint." - -"You mustn't say things like that," Constance murmured. Nevertheless, -so far as it was a manifestation of confidence from the man she loved, -it was pleasant to hear. - -From this time her attendance at church was very infrequent. She did -not cease to go altogether, but almost every Sunday was spent in -expeditions in the open air. The cares resulting from the birth of two -children necessarily interfered with her going regularly to service -while they were infants, and as soon as they were able to walk, the -Sunday outings were resumed with the little boy and girl as companions. -Mr. Prentiss did not revisit the house, but on each of the two or three -occasions when Constance occupied her old seat in St. Stephen's, she -felt that the rector had noticed her. He had apparently left her to -her devices, but his glance told her that she was not forgotten. - - - - -IV - -It is fitting and fortunate that a young woman in a large city, who has -given her happiness into the keeping of a man with his own way to make, -should be ignorant of her peril, and that charmed by love she should -take for granted that he will succeed. But the rest of the world has -no excuse for being equally blind, since the rest of the world is aware -that there is no recipe by which a girl of twenty can secure a guaranty -either of domestic happiness or ability on the part of her lover to -hold his own in the competition for a livelihood. It is easy for the -moralist of society, writing at his desk, to utter the solemn truth -that young people should not rush hastily into matrimony. Assuredly -they should not. But after all, is it to be wondered at that so many -of them do? Love is the law of life. The renewal of the race through -the union of the sexes is an instinct which asserts itself in spite of -code and thesis, and the institution of lawful wedlock is the bit by -which civilization regulates it. Let us, says the modern scientist, -isolate the degenerate members of society, the diseased, the vicious, -and the improvident, and prevent them from having offspring. But still -the priest of Rome, eager for fresh converts, but wise, too, in his -knowledge of the law of sex, whispers to his flock "marry early," and -adds under his breath, "lest ye sin." It is a part of religion, -perhaps, for the daughters of the well-to-do, who have been screened -from contact with the rough world, and who sit in judgment on several -lovers in the paternal drawing-room, to weigh and ponder and to call in -the brain to assist, or if needs be, silence the heart. Yet even they -sometimes elope instead with the wrong man against whom they have been -warned, and are unhappy--or happy--ever afterward. But when we turn -from these privileged young persons--the pretty, daintily dressed young -women in their Easter bonnets, who worship at our fashionable -churches--and from some height look out over wide stretches of streets -with every house alike, the homes of the average working population, -and reflect that every house shelters the consequences of a marriage, -shall we ask pitilessly, "How came ye so?" And if the answer of some -be "we met and loved and married, and now we are miserable," shall we -draw ourselves up and tell them that the fault is theirs, that -marriages are (or should be) made in heaven, and that they ought to -have discovered before they plighted their troth that John would be a -rascal or Mary a slattern? Is it not the privilege and the blessing of -the young to trust? Shall we blame them if, in the ignorance of youth -and under the spell of the law of their beings, they mistake unworthy -souls for their ideals? - -The firm of Stuart & Robinson, dealers in lumber, had started with a -small capital, but the senior partner had confidence in his capacity to -do a large business. His late employers, Toler & Company, according to -his opinion, had been old fogies in their methods. To adopt his own -metaphor, instead of getting up early and shaking the trees, they -expected to have ripe peaches served to them on Sevrčs china, or, in -other words, they let great opportunities slip through their fingers. -He proceeded during the first year to carry out several enterprises -which he had vainly called to their attention while in their service, -and he had the satisfaction of proving his wisdom and of doubling the -firm's assets at the same time. Emil's plans were essentially on a -large scale, and he was confessedly cramped even after this success. -He explained to his wife that if only he had the necessary capital, he -would be able at one fell swoop to control the lumber yards and lumber -market of Benham. As it was, he must wait and probably see others -appropriate ideas which he had suggested by his novel and brilliant -operations. The prophecy indeed proved true, and Emil saw with a -morose eye what he called his harvest gleaned by others. This -vindictive attitude toward the successful was the invariable frame of -mind into which he relapsed when he was not carrying everything before -him, and as a result those in the trade presently began to speak of him -as a crank. His quick comprehension was admitted, but his associates -shook their heads when his name was mentioned, and hinted that he was a -dangerous man, who would bear watching. It was almost inevitable that -a lean period should follow Emil's series of clever undertakings. -Toward the end of the second year, he found himself in a position where -he had not the means to enlarge the scope of his operations. His -working capital was locked up in sundry purchases which he had expected -would show quick profits, but which hung fire. If he liquidated, it -must be at a loss, and the idea of a loss was always bitter to him. -During a number of months he was obliged to renounce certain plans -which he had in view and to remain inactive. A falling lumber market -added to his complications. Prompt to act when he was convinced of -error, he sold out at last his accumulated stock at a loss, which would -have been much greater had he delayed a week longer. But he was left -almost in the same position as when he started; the previous profits -had been cut in two. This was wormwood to his restless soul. It made -him moody and cynical at home, where one child and the near advent of -another foreshadowed increasing expenses. He had expected by this time -to be on the high road to fortune, and to be imitating the swift -progress of certain individuals in Benham, who even in the short period -since he had been a citizen, had risen by their superior wits from -poverty to affluence and power. - -But Emil's fits of depression were invariably succeeded by intervals of -buoyancy. Though he still talked bitterly at home of the methods by -which cold-hearted capital squeezed the small man to the wall and -robbed him of his gains, he began to scheme anew, and to argue that the -assets in his control were still ample for a great success if shrewdly -handled. The lumber market was in the doldrums, dull and drooping. It -began to look as though some of the industries of Benham had been -developed too rapidly, and as though a halt, or what financiers call a -healthy reaction in values, were in order. Could it be possible that -all prices in Benham were inflated? The idea occurred to Emil one day, -and he jumped at it eagerly. It took possession of him. He feverishly -began to examine statistics, and found that Benham had experienced only -one period of depression since its birth as a city at the close of the -Civil War. It was time for another, and the men who were clever enough -to anticipate it would reap the reward of their sagacity. What were -the staples of Benham? Oil, pork, and manufactured iron. These were -the industries which had given the chief impetus to the city's growth, -and were its great source of wealth. Emil pondered the situation and -decided to sell pork short. If a general shrinkage in values was -impending, the price of pork was certain to decline. He had hitherto -felt so confident of making money in his own line of business that he -had never done more than cast sheep's eyes at the stock market or the -markets in grain, oil, and pork futures. It had been his expectation -to try ventures of this sort as soon as his capital was large enough -for important transactions. It was a favorite notion of his that after -he had acquired the first one hundred thousand dollars, he would be -able to quadruple it in a very short time by bold dealings in stocks or -commodities. He knew now that he had merely to step into a broker's -office and sell pork in Chicago by wire. It was a simple thing to do -and the shrewd thing, considering his own business offered no -opportunity at the moment for brilliancy. - -To speak to his partner seemed to Emil unnecessary. He promised -himself that after he had put the firm on its feet again he would deal -generously with Robinson. Since their late reverses the partnership -was not borrowing much money, so its credit was not exhausted. Emil -obtained from his bank as large a loan as he dared to ask for, and -began to sell pork short on the strength of the proceeds. It was a -process which requires small capital at the outset. That is, he had -simply to keep his margin good in case the pork which he sold rose in -value. To begin with he sold only a few hundred barrels, and within a -fortnight the price fell smartly. Not only the price of pork, but of -stocks, grain, and merchandise. Emil congratulated himself. Evidently -he was correct in his judgment that a period of lower speculative -values was at hand. The proper thing would be to sell everything and -reap a huge fortune before the dull general public awoke to the truth. -His own limited resources forbade this, which was irritating. Still, -he could go on selling pork short, and this he continued to do. - -The proceeding elated him, for the sudden and large profit was in a -sense a revelation. He regretted that he had never before tried this -method of demonstrating his business shrewdness. He felt that it -suited him admirably. He would be no rash-headed fool; he would sell -boldly, but intelligently; he would keep his eye on the general market, -and not cover his shorts until the general situation changed. If a -serious decline in the prices of everything were in store for -Benham--and the indications of this were multiplying from week to -week--the price of pork might drop out of sight, so to speak, and he -win a fortune as a consequence. It was the chance of a lifetime. He -reasoned that he would keep cool and make a big thing of it; that a -small fellow would be content with a few thousands and run to cover, -but he intended to be one of the big fellows. Why take his profit when -the whole financial horizon was ominous with clouds, and money was -becoming tighter every day? - -Emil's reasoning was perfect. The course of prices was exactly as he -had predicted; that is, the price of everything except pork. The -unexpected happened there, and this from a cause which no shrewd person -could have foreseen. One day when, in the parlance of trade, the -bottom seemed to be dropping out of all the markets, a despatch -appeared in the newspapers stating that a peculiar disease had broken -out among the hogs in Western Illinois. The pork market stiffened, but -became flat at the advance after somebody declared the story to be a -canard invented by the bulls to bolster up their holdings. Emil, -adopting this explanation, and certain that this cunning stratagem to -check the decline would prove unavailing, sold more pork. - -A week later--one Saturday preceding a Monday which was to be a -holiday--there were rumors in Chicago, just before the close of the -Exchange, that the disease among the hogs was no mere local -manifestation; that it was spreading rapidly, and had already shown -itself in Indiana and Ohio. Pork in the last fifteen minutes bounded -upward and closed ominously strong. Before the market opened on the -following Tuesday it was definitely known that the hogs of the country -were in the grasp of an epidemic, the precise character of which, to -quote the press, was not yet determined, but which, in the opinion of -those most competent to judge, would render the flesh of the animals -attacked by the dread disease unfit for food, and their lard -unwholesome. When the market opened, the price of pork was so high -that Emil's margin of protection was wiped out as thoroughly as the -tide wipes out the sand dyke which a child erects upon the beach. He -was unable to respond to the demand made on him for money to keep his -account with his broker good, and was sold out before night at a -loss--a loss which left him in debt. He went home knowing that he was -bankrupt, and that his firm must fail the moment his note at the bank -became due, even if the broker to whom he owed five thousand dollars -over and above his margins did not press him. There was no escape from -ruin and humiliation. - -He disclosed the truth to Constance with the repressed bitterness of a -Prometheus. He explained to her with the mien of a wounded animal at -bay the cruelty of the trick of destiny which had crushed him. How had -he been at fault? He had been shrewd, far-seeing and prompt to act. -The wisdom of his course had been demonstrated by the fall in prices. -He was on the high road to fortune, and fate had stabbed him in the -back. Could any intelligent man have foreseen that the hogs of the -country would be stricken with disease? And more galling still, why -had luck played him false by singling out the only possible combination -of events which could have done him harm? - -"An all-wise Providence!" he ejaculated with a scornful laugh. "A man -looks the ground over, uses his wits and is reaping the benefit of his -intelligence when he is struck in the head with a brick from behind a -hedge, and is then expected to glorify the hand which smote him. How -could it have been helped? How was I to blame?" he reiterated with a -fierce look at his wife. - -Constance could not answer the question. The details of business were -a sealed book to her. The brief account of the disaster in pork, which -he had just given, was confusing to her, and had left her with no -conviction save pity for her husband. She was ready to take his word, -and to believe that this overwhelming misfortune was the result of -ill-luck which could not have been guarded against. What was uppermost -in her mind was the impulse to help and comfort him. It pained her -that he should inveigh against fate, though she recognized that the -provocation was severe. But he needed her now more than ever. She -would be brave and let him see that her love was at his command. - -"You mustn't mind too much, Emil," she said. "We have to start again, -that's all. I can economize in lots of ways, and we shall manage -somehow, I'm sure. We have the house, you know. If it's necessary--in -order to set you up in business--we can mortgage that. We've always -had that to fall back on." - -She knew as she spoke that from the standpoint of prudence the offer of -the house was unwise. If that were gone, what would become of her -children? Yet she felt a joy in tendering it. Why did her husband -look at her with that malevolent gaze as though she had contributed to -his distress? - -"If you had put a mortgage on the house when I first started in -business, and had given me the benefit of a larger capital, then we -shouldn't be where we are to-day. I wanted it at the time, but you -didn't offer it." - -"Oh, Emil. I never dreamt that you wished it. To mortgage our home -then would have been rash, surely. Besides, if I had given it to you, -wouldn't it have been lost with the rest now?" - -"Don't you understand," he said, roughly, "that if I had not been -hampered at the start by my small capital, I should never have been -forced to go outside the lumber business in order to support my family? -Another five thousand dollars would have made all the difference." - -His glowering look seemed to suggest that he had persuaded himself that -she was partly to blame for what had happened. Constance was ready to -make every allowance for him, but his mood offered fresh evidence of -the crankiness of his disposition, a revelation to which her devotion -could not altogether blind her. - -"I don't understand anything about the business part," she answered, -putting her arm around his neck. "Oh, Emil, Emil, I'm so sorry for -you! I wish to do everything I can to help you and show my love for -you. This is a dreadful sorrow for you to bear--for us both to bear. -But it has come to us, and we mustn't be discouraged. God will give us -strength to bear it if we let him." - -"God?" he blurted. "You may leave God out of the question so far as I -am concerned." - -"Oh, Emil, it grieves me to hear you talk like that." - -"And it grieves me that you should aggravate my trouble by cant which I -thought you had outgrown." - -"I shall never outgrow that," she murmured, appreciating suddenly that -the substitute which he offered her for spiritual resignation was a -cell bounded by four stone walls. She had reached the limit of her -apostacy, and she shrank irrevocably from the final step. - -"Of course the rich and the powerful and the fortunate," he was saying, -"encourage the delusion that if a man's knocked out as I am he ought to -believe it's for the best, because rubbish of that sort keeps together -the social system on which they fatten. Do the poor in the tenements -in Smith Street over there," he asked with a wave of his hand, "believe -it's for the best that they should go hungry and in rags while Carleton -Howard and his peers imitate Antony and Cleopatra? Ask the operatives -in the factories across the river what they think of the justice of the -millionaire's God? The time has passed when you can fool the -self-respecting workingman with a basket of coals and a tract on the -kingdom of heaven. They may have their heaven, if they'll give us a -fair share of this earth." Emil folded his arms as one issuing an -ultimatum. - -Constance realized that he was in no mood to be reasoned with. She had -made clear that she could not subscribe to his doctrine of despair, and -save in that respect she was eager to be sympathetic. She could not -deny the inequalities and apparent injustice of civilization, and -Emil's plea that he had been crushed by an accident which he could not -have avoided not only wrung her heart, but filled it with a sense of -hostility to an industrial system which permitted its deserving members -to be crushed without fault of their own. But she felt instinctively -that the best sort of succor which she could bring was of the practical -kind. To-morrow was before them, God or no God, and they must adjust -themselves to their altered circumstances, take thought and build their -hopes anew. - -She put her arm around his neck again and kissed him silently. Then -she began with quiet briskness to make preparations for the evening -meal. It was the maid's afternoon out, and Constance moved as though -she were glorying in the occupation. Presently she said: - -"Of course I'll dismiss Sophy to-morrow. I am proud to be a -workingman's wife, Emil. We'll soon be on our feet again, never fear." - -The suggestion of the servant's dismissal deepened the gloom on Emil's -face. "I've half a mind to pull up stakes and move to New York," he -muttered. - -"And give up our home?" - -He frowned at the involuntary concern in her voice. "What use is a -home in a place where a man is cramped and circumvented in every big -thing he attempts? I ought to have moved long ago." - -"I am ready to live wherever you think best, Emil. And you mustn't -forget, dear, that my trust and faith in you are as great as ever." - -Despondent as he was, his habit of buoyancy was already groping for -some clue to a brighter vision, to which his wife's words of -encouragement now helped him. He was sitting with his elbows resting -on the table and his head clasped between his hands. "I'll make a -fresh start--here," he said. "They've got me down, but, damn them, -I'll show them that they can't keep me there." - -Presently he arose, and walking out to the kitchen reappeared with a -goblet and two bottles of beer. One of these he uncorked and poured -the contents ostentatiously so that the froth gathered. Raising the -glass he buried his mouth in the beer and eagerly drank it off. He set -down the goblet with a sigh of satisfaction. - -"And what's more," he said, "they can't deprive me of that." - -Constance watched him with a troubled look. She shrank at this time of -his distress from intimating that she regarded the indulgence of this -appetite as a poor sort of solace. Besides, a glass of beer was in -itself nothing, and he might well take offence at her solicitude as an -invasion of his reasonable comfort. Yet observation had taught her -that he was becoming more and more fond of seeking a respite from care -in liberal potations of this sort. - -She restrained her inclination to interfere, but she saw him with -concern consume four bottles in the course of the evening. The -serenity of temper which this produced--the almost indifferent calm -following the storm--was by no means encouraging. To be sure his ugly -side seemed entirely in abeyance. Indeed, he took down his fiddle and -played on it seductively until he went to bed, as though there were no -such things as business troubles. But somehow the very mildness of his -mood, gratifying as it was to her from the momentary personal -standpoint, disturbed her. Was this good nature the manly, Christian -resignation of the victim of misfortune putting aside his grief until -the morrow? It suggested to her rather the relaxation of a baffled -soul exchanging ambition for a nepenthe of forgetfulness--a fuddled -agitator's paradise--and her heart was wrung with dread. - - - - -V - -The firm of Stuart & Robinson, lumber dealers, was hopelessly insolvent -and did not attempt to resume business. The partners separated with -sentiments of mutual disdain. To the junior--the dummy--the failure -had come as a cruel surprise. He refused to regard Emil's conduct as -reasonable or honorable, despite the assurance that the speculation in -pork had been for their common benefit, and that, but for an untoward -accident, the result would have been a fortune for the firm. On the -other hand, Emil expressed scorn for a nature so pusillanimous that it -saw only the outcome and failed utterly to appreciate the brilliancy of -his undertaking. As Emil explained to his wife, the decision of the -partners in regard to the future was typical of their respective -dispositions; Robinson, having lost his money, was soliciting a -clerkship--a return to servitude; whereas Emil intended to strike out -for himself again. - -In what field of energy were his talents to be exercised next? This -was for Emil the first and most important consideration. His new -employment must be of a kind which would provide him with bread and -butter until he was on his feet again, but would not deprive him of -scope and independence. It must be something which would not require -capital. Yet this did not mean that his talent for speculation was to -be neglected, but merely to be kept in abeyance until he saw just the -opportunity to use to advantage the three thousand dollars which he -promptly raised by a second mortgage on his wife's house. His failure -had left him more than ever confident of his ability to achieve success -by bold and comprehensive methods. But in the meantime, while he was -spinning the web of fresh enterprises which were to make him -prosperous, he must support his family somehow. - -He concluded to become a newspaper reporter and writer of articles for -the press. This would provide an immediate income and would not -interfere unduly with other projects. Besides it would enable him to -give public expression to some of his opinions, which would be an -ęsthetic satisfaction. He also engaged desk-room in an office shared -by four men independent of one another and interchangeably petty -lawyers, traders and dealers in mortgages and land. On the glass door -one read "Real Estate and -Mortgages--Investments--Collections--Loans--Notary Public." Below were -the names of the occupants, followed by the titles of several wildcat -companies, the dregs of oil and mining ventures in the neighborhood of -Benham, of which one of them was the promoter and treasurer. It seemed -to Emil a location where he, hampered by circumstances from jostling -elbows with men of means, might use his wits profitably until he could -see his way to more imposing quarters. Here he would be unobserved and -yet not wholly out of touch with what was going on. On the same floor -of the building, which was a hive of small concerns, there was a -broker's office which had a wire to Chicago and knowing correspondents -in New York. That it was described as a "bucket shop" by more -prosperous banking firms prejudiced Emil in its favor; he ascribed the -stigma to capitalistic envy and social ostracism. He became friendly -with the proprietor, discussed with him the merits of the wares on his -counter, and presently, acting on "tips" obtained from this source, -captured on several occasions sums ranging from ten to fifty dollars by -the purchase of ten shares of stock or an equivalent amount of grain, -requiring an advance on his own part of not more than three per cent. -of the purchase price--a mere bagatelle. This as a beginning was -satisfactory. It eked out his journalistic income; and the skill with -which he plied the process, contrasted with the folly displayed by most -of the customers, flattered the faith which he had in his sound -judgment. This broker's shop was the resort of scores of people of -small means, trades-folk, clerks, salaried dependents and some women, -keen to acquire from the fluctuations of the speculative markets a few -crumbs of the huge gains garnered by the magnates of Wall Street, of -which they read emulously in the newspapers. To put up one's thirty -dollars, and to have one's margin of venture or profit wiped out within -twenty-four hours, was the normal experience, sooner or later, of -ninety per cent. of these unfortunates. The remainder were shrewder -and longer lived, and to this remnant Emil indisputably belonged. - -He obtained a position on the _Star_, a sensational, popular one-cent -paper. The _Star_ was read both by the workingmen in the manufacturing -plants, of whose interests it was a zealous champion, and by a large -class of business men and trades-people, who found its crisp paragraphs -and exaggerated, inaccurate reports of current horrors and scandals an -agreeable form of excitement. Emil's employment was to make the round -of the dealers in grain, lumber, wool and other staples and report -trade prices and gossip, which under the control of the financial -editor he was allowed to expand into commercial prognostications or -advice. To the Sunday edition he began to contribute special articles -exploiting the grievances of the proletariat, which the management of -the _Star_ accepted and presently invited as a weekly feature. They -were written with a sardonic acerbity of touch, which afforded him an -outlet for his disgruntled frame of mind and free scope for his -favorite theories. He also renewed his attendance at the Socialistic -Club which he had frequented before his marriage, and became one of the -orators there. It occurred to him that a political office would be -acceptable while he was husbanding his resources. Why not become -alderman on the workingman's ticket? There was a salary of five -hundred dollars attached, and as a city father he would have -opportunities to know what was going on in municipal affairs, and to -get an inkling of some of the big schemes projected by capitalists, for -the furtherance of which his vote would be required. He would be able -also--and this was an exhilarating consideration--to hold the whip-hand -over the arrogant moneyed men seeking franchises for next to nothing, -by which to extort millions from the guileless common people. While -Emil, with recovered buoyancy, readjusted his plans to meet his -circumstances and set his wits to work, his wife met the necessity of -strict economy with absorbed devotion. She signed the mortgage with a -pang, but without hesitancy. She appreciated the necessity of the -contribution. Without ready money Emil would be powerless--must become -a mere clerk or subordinate, and his ambition would be crushed. She -would have preferred perhaps that he should resign himself to the -situation, and without imperilling their home, support his family on a -modest footing by a salary or by the journalistic work for which he had -an aptitude. But she recognized that his heart was set on independent -success on a large scale, and that Emil thwarted or repressed would -become an irritable and despondent malcontent. His shrewdness had -nearly gained him a fortune, and apparently a cruel freak of chance had -been solely responsible for his discomfiture. She did not pretend to -criticise the nature of his business dealings. He had explained to her -that capital was indispensable to the realization of his aims. She -must trust him. She did suggest that he should use the proceeds of the -mortgage for the payment of his debts. The thought of doing so was -bitter, and she was thankful when Emil assured her with a protesting -scoff that such a proceeding would be Utopian. "What," he asked, "was -the sense of insolvent laws, if, when a man failed in business, his -wife was to cast her little all, her own patrimony, into the common pot -for the enrichment of his creditors? Business people understood that -they were taking business chances, and did not expect to gobble up the -home of a wife bought with her own genuine means. If she were rich, -generosity might be honesty, but in the present instance, it would be -sentimental folly." This was convincing to Constance, for she felt -instinctively that her children must have rights as well as the -creditors. A woman's whimsical conception of business honor might well -be at fault. She had made her offer, and she was glad to abide by her -husband's superior knowledge. - -Her duty obviously was to reduce the scale of family living without -interfering with Emil's reasonable comfort or wounding his -self-respect. She gave herself up to her work of domestic economy with -fresh zeal, doing the manual labor of the household with enthusiasm. -By steady industry and thoughtful care, she was able not only to -minimize expenses, but to produce presentable results from a small -outlay. Her heart was in it; for was not Emil at work again and -hopeful? She was proud of his newspaper articles and regarded his -small gains from shrewd speculations as new proof of his capacity for -financial undertakings. - -The end of a year found Emil rather more than holding his own -pecuniarily. He had obtained commissions as a broker from the -successful negotiation of a few small real-estate transactions, his -ventures on a cautious scale in the stock market had been almost -invariably fortunate, and his earnings as a newspaper writer had been -sufficient with these accretions to cover his household expenses, pay -the interest on the mortgage, and add slightly to his capital. He felt -that he was on his feet again, and was correspondingly bumptious; yet -he realized that his recuperation regarded as progress was a snail's -pace, which must be greatly accelerated if he would attain wealth and -importance. In this connection the idea of becoming an alderman kept -recurring to him with increasing attraction. At present he was nobody. -His name was unfamiliar and his position obscure. This irritated him, -for he craved recognition and publicity. To be sure, while capital was -at his disposal, he had seen fit to address his efforts solely to the -accumulation of a fortune as the passport to power, but even then he -had been at heart a sworn enemy of the moneyed class. And now that he -had resumed his old associations, his theories had developed fresh -vitality and aroused in him the desire to vindicate them by action. -Since fate had condemned him to attain financial prominence slowly, why -should he not secure recognition in the best way he could? As an -alderman he would be a local power, and once in the arena of politics -and given the opportunity to make himself felt, why might he not aspire -to political prosperity? - -He proceeded to seek the nomination. But he found that there were -other aspirants, and that he must be stirring. In Benham the district -system of election was in vogue. That is, the city was divided into -municipal districts, and each district chose its own alderman. In that -where Emil lived the workingman's candidate, so called, was almost -invariably successful against the representative of the more -conservative element of the two wards concerned, and a nomination was -regarded as equivalent to election. Now there were two factions of -voters belonging to the dominant party in the district, one in each -ward, and for three successive years the alderman had come from the -ward other than that in which Emil dwelt. This was a plausible -argument why the next candidate should be selected from his ward. The -faction which Emil hoped to represent contained a considerable number -of Germans with socialistic affiliations, and it was agreed by a -conference of the rival cliques on the eve of the canvass that their -turn had come to nominate a candidate. This was fortunate for Emil, as -some of the members of the social debating club to which he belonged -were of this body. He had already been prominent at the meetings of -the club, prompt and aggressive in the expression of his opinions on -his feet, and prone to linger over his beer until late at night -agitating the grievances of the under dogs of industrial competition. -The suggestion of his name, backed by a vote of his associates, -received respectful consideration from the political managers, and he -at once became a prominent candidate. The last three aldermen from the -district had been of Irish extraction, and he was an American. His -grandfather on his mother's side had been a German; hence his name -Emil. He was an undoubted advocate of the rights of the laboring -class, and a foe of capitalistic jobbing. These were signal points in -his favor. But the victory would remain to the aspirant who could -obtain a majority of the delegates to the aldermanic convention, and -the battle would be fought out at the preliminary caucus where the -delegates were chosen by the voters of the two wards. Accordingly the -contest became a house-to-house canvass of the district by the -respective candidates, each of whom had an organization and -lieutenants. There was speech-making at halls hired for the occasion, -and some treating incident to these rallies. Poster pictures of the -candidates were requisite for use in saloons and on bill-boards. All -this demanded expenditure. Emil realized presently that, if he wished -to succeed, he could not be niggardly with his money. Men would not -work for nothing, and spontaneous enthusiasm was only to be had for -remuneration. He drew upon his funds, exhausting the little he had -saved the previous year, and trenching slightly on the mortgage money. -He hoped to win. The contest practically was between him and a German -beer manufacturer, who happened also to be the president of a small -bank. The third candidate was already out of the running. Emil in his -capacity as tribune of the people made the most of his opponent's -connection with the moneyed interests. His satire on this score offset -the advantage which his rival received from his trade as a brewer, and -turned the scale. On the night of the caucus, the voting booths were -crowded to repletion. A stream of excited citizens struggled to the -rail to deposit their ballots. There was imprecation and several -resorts to fisticuffs. Not until after midnight was the result known. -Emil won by a liberal margin in both wards, and his nomination was -assured. He was escorted home jubilant and beery by a detachment of -his followers, whose cat-calls of triumph thrilled the listening ears -of Constance. She met him at the door, and when he was safely inside -she threw her arms about his neck and exclaimed, "Oh, Emil. I'm so -glad!" - -His small dark eyes were scintillating, his hair stood up from his brow -like a bird's crest, the curl of his short mustache, odorous of malt, -bristled awry, his speech was thick. - -"Didn't I tell you they couldn't keep me down? I shall get now where I -belong," he exclaimed as he strode into the sitting-room and dropped -into a chair with the air of a fuddled but victorious field-marshal. - -Constance recognized that he was exhilarated by drink. The -associations of the last few weeks had awakened in her vague doubts as -to the sort of influence which the career of an alderman was likely to -exercise upon him. But she shrank from harboring criticism. She -yearned to be happy, and her happiness was to see her husband -successful and prosperous. So she put away the consciousness that his -breath was tainted, his manner boastful and jarring, and gave herself -up to the joy which sprang from beholding him a self-satisfied victor. - -Emil's self-satisfaction was short lived. It chanced that some of the -wealthy citizens of Benham were interested in the establishment of an -electric street-car system for the city and its suburbs, and were -laying their wires to secure the co-operation of the Board of Aldermen. -The project had been kept concealed, and not until the campaign for the -city election was well under way were the machinations of those -interested apparent. First as an underground rumor, then as a -well-credited report from diverse sources, the news reached Emil that -the nominee of the other party had the backing of a powerful syndicate. -The true explanation of this mystery followed, and with it the -statement that Emil's radical utterances had drawn upon his head the -ire of the capitalists with a mission, who were giving their moral and -financial support in every district to the one of the two candidates -best suited to their necessities regardless of party. In place of the -walk-over he had expected, Emil found himself in the midst of a contest -of the fiercest description. He was furious, and his exultation was -turned to gall. Why had he not discovered the street-car company -projects in advance and made friends with the promoters? This was his -first and secret reflection, which added rancor to his public -declaration that he would bury at the polls the candidate of these -plunderers. But how? Where were his funds to come from? There had -been plenty of offers of ready money when it was supposed that his -election was assured. But now the tone of his supporters was less -confident, and ugly rumors reached him of defections among the Irish in -the other ward. He was in the fight to stay. So he declared on the -stump and in his home. He could not afford to be defeated. It was a -case of hit or miss, win or lose. Maddened, desperate, and excited, he -threw prudence to the winds and scattered dollars freely for -proselytizing expenses until the morning of the election. Each side -claimed the victory until the polls were closed. The result was -close--a matter of one hundred and fifty ballots--but Emil proved to be -the loser, and at a cost of over three thousand dollars. The fund -which he had borrowed from his wife was exhausted, and he had incurred, -besides, a batch of unpaid bills for refreshments, carriages, and other -incidental expenses. - -He awoke at dawn from a nap at a table in a saloon from which the last -of his followers had slipped away. Slouching into his kitchen, where -his wife was kindling the fire, he tossed his hat on the table and said -with a malignant sneer: - -"The jig's up." - -Constance was pale. She had been watching for him all night, and had -heard from a neighbor the dismal result. Her heart was wrung with pity -and distress, but she perceived that it was no time for consolatory -words. She busied herself in preparing a cup of coffee, which -presently she placed before him, stooping as she did so to kiss him -softly on the forehead. He was sitting by the table with his legs -thrust out and his hands sunk in his trousers pockets, chewing an -unlighted cigar, one of those left from the supply he had bought for -political hospitality. His wife's action seemed to remind him of her -presence. He looked up at her viciously, showing the white of his eye -like a surly dog. - -"What do you want?" - -"Your coffee, Emil." - -He glared at the smoking cup, then with a sweep of his arm dashed it -away: - -"To hell with you and your messes, you--you fool!" - -The crash of the crockery was followed by silence. It seemed to -Constance that she had been struck by a bullet, so confounding were his -words. Her husband address her like that? What did it mean? - -"Emil," she gasped--"you are ill!" - -"Not ill, but tired of you." - -"Of me? Your wife? What have I done?" - -"Why didn't you consent to move to New York when I wished to go?" he -snapped. "If you had, I wouldn't be in this fix, sold out by a pack of -filthy Hibernian cut-throats." - -"I was ready to go if you wished it, Emil. We will go now--if only you -do not speak to me so unkindly." - -"It's too late," he replied with a sneer. "What use would it be, -anyway? We look at everything differently. We always have." - -"You do not realize what you are saying. You do not know what you are -saying." - -"Crazy, am I? The best thing for you to do is to ask some of your -church philanthropists to supply you with laundry work. You're likely -to need it. The jig's up, I tell you. We haven't a dollar left." - -"Very well." - -"The mortgage money with the rest." He threw the chewed cigar on the -floor and ground it with his foot. - -"Very well. I can bear anything except that you should speak to me so -cruelly. Have I been afraid of work? Whatever has happened we mustn't -forget the children, Emil. We must keep up our courage on their -account at least." - -He scowled at the reference. "I'll look out for the children. Is -there any beer in the house?" - -"No." Then after a moment's hesitation she added, "May I ask you -something, Emil? Won't you give up beer? It is hurting your life. I -am sure of it. I have felt so for some time, and you have known that I -have hated your fondness for it. Give it up altogether and--and we -will go to New York or anywhere you wish and make a fresh start." - -In her dismay at his brutality she was eager and thankful to throw the -responsibility for his conduct on his propensity for drink. She felt -the obligation to speak fearlessly on this score, even though she -irritated him. Her gentle remonstrances had been of no avail, and she -must struggle with him now against himself or lose him altogether. - -Emil heard her appeal with a deepening scowl. For a moment it seemed -as though he were about to strike her. Then, as what he evidently -considered the audacity of her expostulation worked on his mind, -self-pity was mingled with his anger. - -"You'd deprive me of my beer, would you? The only solace I've got. -Why don't you go smash my fiddle, too? That's the way with you pious -women; a man gets down on his luck and you stop his comforts and drive -him into the street. Very well, then, if I can't get beer in this -house, little saint, there's lots of places I can. This is the last -straw." Thereupon he strode out of the house, closing the kitchen door -behind him with a vicious bang. - -VI - -Constance did not see her husband again for twenty-four hours. He -returned at supper-time and took his place at the table without a word -of apology or explanation. He was in a state of great depression, -morose and uncommunicative. On previous occasions when misfortune had -befallen him, he had taken his wife into his confidence, but now it -seemed either that he had lost his grip on life so completely that -words failed him, or that the resentment which he had expressed toward -her was still dominant. When the meal was over, he went out and did -not return until late. He was boozy with drink, and threw himself on -his bed with the air of a man who would fain dispel consciousness by -the luxury of sleep. - -Emil's mode of life for the next few weeks was substantially a -repetition of this programme. Glum, sour, and listless he went his way -in the morning; fuddled, indifferent, and sleepy he returned at night. -Concerning his circumstances and plans he said nothing to Constance. -She was left totally in the dark as to the extent and the effect of his -reverses. He had told her that they were ruined, yet he continued to -go down-town as though nothing had happened. Trusting that he would -enlighten her of his own accord, at first she asked no questions. Then -as he did not speak, she requested him one morning to tell her how his -affairs stood, urging her solicitude and affection. He listened -frowningly and put her off with the disconcerting utterance "You'll -know soon enough. It's just as well to let a drowning man grasp at -straws while there are any to grasp at." - -His half-scornful, half-desperate manner forbade further inquiry at the -moment if she did not wish to widen the breach between them. Constance -was in deep distress. She yearned to comfort and help him, but this -wifely, loving impulse was haunted by the consciousness now forced upon -her with painful clearness that she had misjudged his nature and was -mated to a crank. How otherwise could she interpret his hostile -attitude toward herself? To what but a cross-grained perversity of -soul could she ascribe his disposition to blame her for his -misfortunes? Her duty was plain, to make the best of the situation, -and to ignore, so far as self-respect would permit, his laceration of -her feelings, trusting to time to restore his sense of justice and -renew concord between them. But what hope was there for the future? -Hope for the realization of that blissful, ennobling married state to -which she had looked forward as a bride and had believed in store for -her? Here was the thought which tormented her and gave poignancy to -the dismay and anxiety of the moment. Even if their immediate -circumstances were less serious than Emil had declared, was there any -reason to believe that his next experiment would be more successful? -She had accepted hitherto without question his declaration that -ill-luck had been responsible for all his troubles, but that -consolation was hers no longer. She found herself listening to the -voice of criticism to which until now she had turned a deaf ear. In a -new spirit, without bitterness, but in the assertion of her right as a -wife to judge the man to whom she had committed her happiness, she -recalled the incidents of their married life--his theories, arguments, -and point of view. He had declared her to blame for his misfortunes. -Surely if she had failed in her duty it had not been toward him. She -had sacrificed her opinions to his, and for his sake abnegated her most -precious predilections in order to make the union of their lives -sweeter and more complete. If she were guilty, was it not of treason -to her own instincts and her own conscience? - -Emil indeed had persuaded himself not merely that fortune had betrayed -him, and the hand of the prosperous world was against him, but that his -wife was partly to blame for it. Looking back on his last fiasco, he -conjured up the circumstance that she had not fallen in with his -suggestion of an exodus to New York, and this he had promptly distorted -into a grievance, which grew the more he nursed it. To the notion that -she had thwarted him in everything and that their relations as husband -and wife had been wholly unsympathetic was only another step. It -suited him to feel that he was the injured party, for he was face to -face with the responsibility of supporting his family, which must be -met or avoided. The question of immediate funds was already pressing. -His last reverse had discouraged and angered him, but it had not -diminished his confidence that he would succeed in the right place. It -had only convinced him that Benham was not the right place; that Benham -was too small and provincial; too unappreciative of real ability. He -was unpleasantly in debt, but the bills which he had contracted for -political expenses could be disregarded for the present. He had no -property with which to meet them, and if he were pressed, he had merely -to go into insolvency in order to rid himself of them altogether. Nor -need he worry about the mortgage for the present. It would not be due -for two years, and, provided the interest were paid, they could not be -molested. These redeeming features of his plight were clear to him -after the first days of mental agitation, but his spirit did not -reassert its wonted elasticity. Analyzing the cause, he perceived that -his whole surroundings were repugnant to him, and that he shrank from -recommencing life at the foot of the ladder under the conditions in -which he found himself. He was determined to leave Benham, and he was -determined that his family, if they came with him, should toe the mark. -What this phrase meant precisely he did not formulate, but it suited -his mood. "Toe the mark." He kept repeating it to himself, as though -it promised relief from domestic insubordination. Yes, if his wife did -not choose to adopt his theories and abet him in his undertakings, she -could go her own way for all he cared. It was only on account of the -children that he did not put an end to their contract of marriage -to-morrow by leaving her. Except for them it were surely folly for a -man and woman whose ideas were utterly at variance to continue a -partnership the only fruit of which could be discord and -recriminations. So he argued, and it was only the thought of his -children which restrained him from precipitate action and caused him to -continue to go down-town every day seeking a bare livelihood. Since -the night of his defeat at the polls, Constance had not asked him for -money. Presumably she had some laid by, and was living on that, but by -the first of the month she must have recourse to him or starve, and -then would be the time for his ultimatum. The terms of this, beyond a -declaration of general discontent, were still hazy in his brain, -befogged by malt liquor and inflamed by hatred of the world, but a -glowing conviction that their marriage had been a failure through her -fault was a satisfactory substitute for definiteness. Brooding like a -spider in its web, secretive, hoping that something would turn up to -put him on his feet again, yet almost reckless in his attitude, and -drinking assiduously, he drifted on without aim. His evenings were -spent at his workingmen's club, where he continued as an outlet to his -feelings to deliver virulent philippics, which he realized as he -uttered them were a sorry equivalent for personal success. - -While thus limp and embittered, a final mishap impelled Emil to action. -It happened that the broker on the same floor as the office where he -had desk-room, and with whom he was on familiar terms, let him in for a -disastrous tip and put the screws on when the market went the other -way. The sum involved was three hundred dollars, the total residue of -Emil's capital, which he had allowed to remain untouched with this -false friend in order not to be entirely without the means to -speculate. The advice offered had seemed to be friendly and -disinterested. When the result proved disastrous the victim promptly -suspected guile. Certainly he encountered a flinty demeanor, as though -the proprietor of the "bucket-shop" were cognizant of the impecuniosity -of his customer and had decided to squeeze him dry and break with him. -This from the man whose social status on the street he had championed -seemed to Emil rank ingratitude. Yet the broker was making no more -than ordinary business demands upon him. His margin was exhausted, and -the transaction would be closed unless he supplied additional security. -This was business-like, but not friendly, as it seemed to Emil, -especially as the ingrate, who had been so confident of the value of -the tip, chose now to be sphinx-like as to what the next day's price of -the stock would be. All he would vouchsafe was that it would go up -sooner or later. - -Since it was necessary to act at once, and to sell meant the loss of -the remnant of his capital, Emil concluded to give himself a chance by -making use of five hundred dollars which had just been paid over to him -for a client in redemption of a mortgage. He argued that the stock, -having fallen in price contrary to expectation, was not likely to -decline further at once, and that if he protected his account, he would -be able to make inquiries and form a more intelligent opinion by the -end of a few days as to what he had best do. Besides, there was -lurking in his mind the bitter argument, which he chose to believe -sound, that the world owed every man a living, and assuredly owed it to -a man like himself. Since the hand of society seemed to be against -him, why should he not take advantage of the resources at his disposal -and save himself? He was simply borrowing; if he were not able to -return the money at once, he would do so later with interest. The -consequences of this performance were disastrous. As Emil had -predicted, the stock in question remained stationary for three days, -but by the end of them he felt no clearer regarding which course to -pursue. Estimates as to its value were contradictory; yet since a sale -at the market price meant the safety of the five hundred dollars at the -cost of his own financial obliteration, he remained hopeful. On the -fourth day the stock broke sharply, and again on the day after. His -holding was only one hundred shares--a paltry transaction from a -capitalistic point of view--yet it was rashness for him. Adversity and -his pressing needs had tempted him to disregard his meditated prudence -and to venture on thin ice. He perceived himself ruined and a -defaulter. The obliquity of his peculation was mitigated in his mind -by the conviction that fortune had been signally cruel to him. As for -the borrowed money, he would give his note and pay it presently when he -was on his feet again. Yet he appreciated that his opportunities for -making a living in Benham were at an end, and that if he remained, he -might find difficulty in inducing the owner of the five hundred dollars -to accept him as a creditor without demur. Clearly the simplest course -was to come to terms by post. To shake the dust of Benham from his -feet was his dearest wish, and the time had arrived for its fulfilment. -There was still one hundred dollars belonging to his client in his -hands which he had not used. This he drew to provide himself with -travelling expenses, arguing that the sooner he were able to reach New -York, the quicker the loan would be repaid, and slipped from the city -without a word to anyone. He had decided to cut adrift from all his -past associations, and an indispensable portion of his plan was to -sever forever his relations with his wife. - -A week later he wrote this letter to her from New York: - - - Constance: - - This is to let you know what has become of me. You may have - guessed the truth, but it's woman's way to worry, weep, and raise a - hue and cry, though she knows in her heart that she's mismated, and - that it would be a godsend to her if "hubby" had really blown his - brains out or were safely at the bottom of a well. I'm not dead - yet, nor am I contemplating suicide at present. Though if the time - ever does come when I think the game is played out, it will be - one-two-three-go! without any pause between the numbers. But I'm - as good as dead now, so far as you are concerned. You won't be - troubled by me further. You've seen the last of me. I told you I - was strapped. I'm cleaned out to the last dollar. But that - doesn't phaze me except for the moment. I'm going to make a fresh - start and a clean sweep at the same time. You know as well as I - that our marriage has not been a glittering success. In short, - we've made a mess of it. We thought we were suited to each other, - and we find we're not. That's all. I don't approve of you any - more than you do of me, and what's the use of making each other - miserable by protracting the relation until death do us part? It's - up to me to undo the Gordian-knot, and I've cut it. - - You'll shed some tears, I suppose, over the situation, and your - friends will call me a brute. But when the shock is past and - sentimental considerations have evaporated, just ask yourself if - I'm not doing the sensible thing for us both. We don't look at - life in the same way and never will. I'm a radical, and you're a - conservative, and we were misled before marriage by the affinities - of flesh to suppose that oil and water would harmonize. From the - point of view of law I'm the offending party, and you'll be a free - woman to sue for divorce on the ground of desertion, by the end of - three years. In the meantime, you can go back to your kindergarten - work or whatever you see fit. You have your health, and your - philanthropic church friends will enable you to support yourself. - - The only hitch is the children. If you had been ready to follow me - to New York when I first suggested it, we might not be separating - now. I expect and am anxious to provide for them. If you will - send them on to me, they shall want for nothing. But if you are - bent on keeping them, as I foresee may be the case, the - responsibility is yours. I should like one at least--preferably - the boy. If you insist on keeping them both, I can't help myself. - There's where you have the whip-hand over me. But don't delude - yourself with the notion that I don't love my own flesh and blood - because I'm not willing to live with their mother. - - There will be no use in your coming on here or trying to find me. - I have made up my mind. We could never be happy together, so the - fewer words said about parting the better. Send your answer - regarding the children to the New York post-office. I shall expect - it for a week. The money you loaned me is gone with the rest, but - they can't turn you out of your house until the mortgage is due, if - you pay the interest. Some day I shall pay it back to you. I wish - you well, and consider I'm doing us both a service in cutting loose - from you. - - Good-by, EMIL. - - -It seemed to Constance when she had finished this letter as though her -heart would stop. Was this reality? Could it be that her husband was -abandoning her and her children in cold blood, treating the sacred ties -of marriage as lightly as though they were straws? Alas! his cruel -words stared her in the face, freezing her soul, which had been sick -for days over his unexplained absence; sick from dread. Yes, she had -guessed; but she had put the horror from her as impossible, despite his -hints. Unbalanced and embittered as he was, he could not be so unkind. -Now she was face to face with certainty; there was no room for hope. -It was true; so cruelly inhumanly true that her brain felt dazed and -numb. She gazed at his writing stony-eyed and appalled, limp with -dismay and forlornness. To avoid falling she put out her hand to the -table, and the contact of her own flesh served to readjust her -consciousness. Seating herself she swept her fingers across her brow -to rally her senses, and read the letter again slowly. Then -mortification succeeded dismay, and resentment followed close on -mortification. The wounded pride of the wife, the indignation of the -mother protesting for her children asserted themselves, causing her to -flush to the roots of her hair and her pulses to tingle. Coward! -Unnatural father! What had she done to deserve this? What had they -done, helpless innocents? Give them up to him? Her children, now the -only joy of her life? Never. They could not both have them. Why -should he who had left them in the lurch have either? She could hear -their prattle in the adjoining room, poor little souls, unconscious of -their misery. Then her sense of wounded pride and her anger were -forgotten in the agony of a possible separation from her offspring, and -in the loss of her husband's love, and her tense nerves gave way. "Oh, -Emil, my husband, how could you?" she moaned, and burying her face in -her hands she let sorrow have full sway. - -[Illustration: "Oh, Emil, my husband, how could you?" she moaned] - -When she had dried her eyes she was prepared to face the situation and -to think more calmly. Certain points were now clear. Emil was right; -since he had ceased to love her, they could never be happy together. -So far as she could see, she had not been at fault, though he had -persuaded himself that she was to blame. She would never have left -him; but now that he had deserted her, she could dare to admit that -their souls were not in accord, and that her love and respect for him -had been waning in spite of herself for many months. She would not -attempt to follow him, and she desired to retain both the children. -Was it her duty to let Emil have one of them? Here was the only -harassing point in the plans for the future which she was formulating. -Would it be fair to the children to separate them? Would she be -justified in keeping them both, in view of the affection which their -father had professed for his own flesh and blood? As Emil had -declared, he and she had made a mess of their marriage, and they were -to separate. Was it fair to him to keep both the boy and the girl? -Ah, but she could not bear the thought of giving up either. She felt -the need of counsel. To whom could she turn? Who were her friends? -She thought of Mr. Prentiss, and she remembered her husband's taunt -concerning her philanthropic church friends with a sense of shrinking. -The church offered itself as a refuge to all in the hour of distress, -but it seemed to her as though she would rather starve than apply to -Mr. Prentiss. Not that she was afraid of starving. That side of the -situation had no terrors for her. She was almost glad at the idea of -supporting herself and her darlings, and she had entire confidence in -her ability to do so, even though she were forced to scrub floors. But -she yearned for the sympathy and advice of a friend. How lonely she -had suddenly become in this large, busy city! Emil had evinced little -desire, especially of late, to make friends in the neighborhood, and -she had been so absorbed in her home and her husband's interest that -she had disregarded her social opportunities. He had been apt to speak -slightingly of their acquaintances as people whom he would soon -outstrip in the struggle of life. And now she was the poorest of the -poor, the saddest of the sad, one of the lowly common people for whom -her doctor father's heart had ever cherished fond and patient sympathy. -She was one of them now herself. How different had been her dreams and -her ambition. To think that she, Constance Forbes, had come to this--a -wife abandoned by her husband, alone and friendless, with only the -semblance of a roof to shelter her and her children. But all this was -nothing if only she need not part with either of her babies. She would -be able to support them, never fear, and with them to support she could -be brave, even happy. But without them? No, no, Emil had forsaken -her, she had lost her faith in him, he was not worthy of the sacrifice; -she dared not trust him; he had no right to either. She could not, she -would not let either go. - -When the morning came she was more firmly of the same opinion, and she -composed this reply to her husband: - - - Emil: - - I have your letter and my heart is filled with sorrow. I cannot - compel you to live with me against your will. God knows I have - tried to be a loving, dutiful, and sympathetic wife, but it seems I - have failed to please you. It is true that our ideas of how to - live and what is right are very different. I have been aware of - that in my secret soul, but for your sake I did my best to adopt - your point of view. Now I shall be free to follow my own. Since - you no longer love me, I am not sorry that we are to live apart, - for I can see now that I have suffered much on your account. But I - do not choose to reproach you. What good would it do? Besides you - are the father of my children--poor little things. I do not think - that I should have written to you at all if it were not for the - question what is to become of them. - - I am trying to do what is best for them and to be just; just to you - and to myself. I have decided to keep both the children. They are - babies still, and need a mother's love. A father's too, but it - seems they cannot have both. Let God judge between us, Emil. They - are my flesh and blood too, and it is you who are forsaking us, not - we you. As you say, I have my health and we shall not starve. I - am not afraid. There is nothing more to say, is there? It has all - been a dreadful mistake--and we thought we should be so happy. - Good-by. In spite of everything I shall always think of you kindly. - - CONSTANCE. - - -Having despatched this she felt as though she would be glad to die. -Life seemed so flat, and her condition so humiliating. Her love for -Emil was dead; the union of their souls was broken; what was there to -look forward to? Yet she knew that she must not stop to repine or to -indulge in self-pity. The stern necessity of winning bread for her -children confronted her and must be faced at once and resolutely. In -this she must find happiness and fresh inspiration. It was her duty to -close the ears and eyes of her soul to the voices and visions of the -past. Hard work would save her brain from giving way, and hard work -only. What should that work be? What was she to do? In the first -glow of her pride, revolting at the slight which her husband had put -upon her, the way had seemed easy, but viewed in the sober light of -reality it bristled with difficulties. Yet now, as she pondered and -realized what failure would mean, her spirit rose to meet them, and -immediate needs forced sorrow to the background. - -Where was she to find work? Since the receipt of her husband's letter -everything outside her own emotions had been a blank to her; her gaze -had been solely introspective. Conscious now of the need of action and -of renewing her contact with the world, she took up the newspaper, -yesterday's issue of which lay unopened on the table, and began to -examine the page of advertisements for employment. She must find at -once something which would provide her with ready money. Only through -friends and only after delay could she hope to obtain a kindergarten -position; it would take time and instruction to learn typewriting; she -was not sufficiently proficient in languages or music to offer herself -as a teacher. She could become a domestic servant or a shopgirl. In -the former case it would be necessary to board out her children, to -give them to some institution, perhaps, a prospect which wrung her -heart; in the latter she could be with them at night, but who would -look after and guard them during the day? What did other women do -whose husbands ran away and left them? The long list of people out of -work was appalling, and few of the opportunities offered seemed to fit -her circumstances. Someone was seeking employment as a seamstress. -She might take in sewing. This perhaps was the most feasible -suggestion. She was handy at plain sewing, and a little practice would -doubtless render her skilful. Yes, she would try this, and in order to -obtain a start would solicit work from some of the neighbors, if needs -be. The neighbors? They did not know as yet of her misfortune--her -disgrace, for it was a disgrace to be forsaken by her husband. It -would be necessary to tell them. What should she say? Entertaining -sadly this necessity of an avowal, she glanced over the rest of the -newspaper, and came suddenly upon a paragraph which informed her that -her misfortune was already public. Prefaced by offensive headlines, -"Emil Stuart disappears from Benham! What has become of Mrs. Morgan's -mortgage money?" the wretched story stood exploited to the world. -Constance read and the cup of her distress and humiliation overflowed. -It needed only this insinuation of dishonesty to complete her misery. -Her husband an embezzler? Where should she hide her head? Nor was -there comfort in the reporter's closing effort at euphemism: "One or -two acquaintances of the late candidate for aldermanic honors, when -apprised of his mysterious disappearance, expressed the belief that his -seeming irregularities would be explained to the satisfaction of all -concerned; but a gentleman, whose name we are not at liberty to -disclose, hazards an opinion, based on personal observation, that Mr. -Stuart has been premeditating this step for several weeks, and is a -fugitive from justice. The circumstance that his wife and two children -have been left behind in Benham invites the further inquiry whether he -has also abandoned his family. There are rumors that Mr. Stuart's -domestic relations were not altogether harmonious." - -Constance let the newspaper slip from her hands. Her cheeks burned -with shame. This was the last straw. Her husband a defaulter, and her -relations with him the subject of common newspaper gossip. As she -stood spell-bound by this new phase of misfortune the door-bell rang. -A visitor. Who could it be? Some sympathetic or curious neighbor who -had read of her calamities. Or more probably the writer of the -newspaper article coming to probe into her misery in search of fresh -copy. For a moment she thought that she would not answer the call, and -she waited hoping that whoever it was would go away. Again the bell -rang, this time sharply. It might be something important, even a -telegram from Emil to clear himself. Picking up the newspaper she -concealed it hastily, then stepped into the passage and opened the door -slightly. - -"May I come in?" asked a strong, friendly voice. - -"Oh yes, Mr. Prentiss; excuse me," she faltered. She had recognized at -once who her visitor was, but so many bewildering things had happened -that she stood for a moment irresolute, refusing to credit her own -senses. As she opened wide the door, the clergyman strode in -fearlessly as though he realized that the situation must be carried by -storm. Entering the parlor, he put out his hand and said with manly -effusion: - -"I have come to ask you to let me help you, Mrs. Stuart." - -"Sit down, please. You are very kind. I----" - -Her words choked her, and she stopped. - -"I saw by the newspaper yesterday that you were in trouble. I do not -wish to pry into your affairs, but I thought that you might be glad of -the counsel of a friend." - -His visit was precious balm to her spirit, but, despite her gratitude, -the knowledge that he was heaping the traditional coals of fire on her -head made her uncomfortable. She had choked from mingled relief and -mortification. But now her finer instinct responded to the kindness of -his words and she said with simple directness: "I should like to tell -you everything, Mr. Prentiss. My husband left a week ago. He does not -intend to return. I have a letter from him, and he--he does not wish -to live with me any longer. He was willing to support the children, -but I could not make up my mind to let them go. Our money is all gone -and this house is mortgaged. If you will help me to find work so that -I can support them and myself, I shall be very grateful. It was very -good of you to come to see me." - -The children, attracted by the voice of a stranger, had run in and -stood one on either side of their mother staring at him shyly with -cherubic eyes. The clergyman said to himself that here was a veritable -Madonna of distress--this lithe, nervous-looking woman with her slim -figure and soulful face. How pretty and neat she looked in spite of -her misery! How engaging were the tones in which she had set forth her -calamity! He had always admired her, and it had been a disappointment -to him that she had strayed. There was almost jubilation in his heart -as he heard that she was free from the wretch who had pulled her down; -and though he intended to temper the ardor of the priest by the tact of -a man of the world, he could not entirely restrain his impulse to -stigmatize her husband. "I see," he said. "You are much to be pitied. -It is a cruel wrong; the act of a coward. But you must not take your -trouble too much to heart, Mrs. Stuart, for the man who will leave a -sweet wife and tender children from mere caprice is no real husband and -father." - -"Mr. Stuart has had much to worry him of late. He has lost money, and -been unfortunate in politics." Her impulse was to apologize for her -husband even then. "I cannot understand though how he could leave us," -she added. After all why should she a second time on Emil's account -set her face against the truth in the presence of this true friend? -Emil was a coward, and his act was a cruel wrong. - -But Mr. Prentiss had recovered his aplomb. "I will not distress you by -talking about him; he has gone. The matter with which I am concerned -is how to help you. We must find you employment at once." - -Constance regarded him gratefully. "That is my great requirement just -now, Mr. Prentiss. I need work to keep my children from starving and -to help me to forget. I am not afraid of work. I shall be glad to do -anything for which I am fit." - -"I understand, I understand. It is the pride of my church to help just -such women as you to help themselves. You need give yourself no -concern as to your immediate pecuniary needs. They will be provided -for. I will send the Deaconess to you at once." - -The directness of his bounty, the plain intimation that she was a -subject for charity brought a flush to her cheeks. But she knew in an -instant that it would be false pride to protest. There was no food or -money in the house. - -"Thank you," she said simply. - -Mr. Prentiss divined her reluctance and appreciated the delicacy of her -submission. He recognized that this woman with wistful brown eyes and -nervous, intelligent face was no ordinary person--was even more -deserving than he had supposed, and his thoughts were already busy with -the problem of her future. He must find just the right thing for her. -"I know, of course, that you wish to become self-supporting as soon as -possible," he said. "Will you tell me a little more about yourself and -your capabilities? You came to Benham a few months before your -marriage to fit yourself to be a kindergarten teacher, if I remember -aright?" - -During the momentary pause which preceded this inquiry her conscience -had been reasserting itself. She had longed for counsel and here it -was. If she had erred, there was yet time to repair her fault. -"Before we talk of that, may I ask you one question, Mr. Prentiss? I -wish to know if you think it was selfish of me to keep both the -children. I desire to do what is right this time, whatever it cost -me." She clasped her hands resolutely in her lap as though she were -nerving herself for a sacrifice. "I hope you will tell me exactly what -you think." - -The clergyman's heart warmed at this revelation of spiritual vigor. -"Here is a soul worth helping," he reflected. Then, in answer to her -appeal, he exclaimed with righteous emphasis: "Ask your own heart, my -dear woman. Would you dare trust these babies to your husband's -keeping? This is a problem of right and wrong, and demands a severing -of the sheep from the goats. You may banish that doubt forever." - -Constance dropped her eyes to hide the tears of satisfaction which had -sprung into them at his words. Her children were safe. The counsel -given was the very echo of the test by which she had justified herself -toward Emil. "Excuse me," she said in apology for her emotion. Then -looking up she added with tremulous brightness, "I felt that I must be -sure before anything else was decided. And now to answer your question -as to my own capabilities: I have none. I am eager to learn, and I -have had some education--my father was fond of books and had a -library--but I tell you frankly that there is nothing but the simplest -manual work for which I am fitted at the present time. I have thought -that all over." - -"So far so good. Much of the trouble of this world proceeds from the -inability of people to discern for what they are not fitted. Can you -sew?" - -"I can do plain sewing satisfactorily." - -"We will begin with that then. It will keep you busy for the time -being. Meanwhile I shall have an opportunity to consider what you had -best undertake." He rose and put out his hand with spontaneous -friendliness. "Good-by. God bless you. You are a brave soul, and He -will not desert you or leave you comfortless." - -Constance quickened at the firm pressure, and her own fingers -acknowledged the interest which it expressed. She looked into his eyes -with frank confidence. "You have come to me at a time when I needed -someone more than ever before in my life. I shall never forget it." - -Mr. Prentiss nodded and turned to go as though he would disclaim this -expression of everlasting obligation. He felt that he was about his -Master's business, and was seeking neither thanks nor praise. Yet, -while he deprecated her gratitude, her entire mental attitude caused -him ethical and ęsthetic satisfaction. The conviction that this ward -of the church was worth saving and helping gave elasticity to his step -and erectness to his large figure as he strode up the street, knocking -now and again some bit of orange peel or other refuse from the sidewalk -with a sweep of his cane, which suggested a spirit eager to do battle -in behalf of righteousness. - - - - -VII - -Two days later the Rev. George Prentiss dined at the house of another -of his parishioners, Mrs. Randolph Wilson. She was a widow of about -forty-five, the sister of Carleton Howard, reputedly the wealthiest and -most sagacious of Benham's financial magnates, and a generous -benefactress of St. Stephen's. Her bounty had enabled the rector from -time to time to carry out his cherished plans for the ęsthetic -adornment of the church property. The reredos, two stained-glass -windows, and the baptismal font in the enlarged edifice had been -provided by her; and in the matter of charity she never failed to -respond by munificent subscriptions to the various causes in aid of -which he appealed to his congregation. They were friends and allies; -interested mutually in St. Stephen's, and interested also, as they both -liked to feel, in promoting American civilization outside of church -work. Her house, or palace, as it should more properly be termed, a -counterpart to that of her brother's which adjoined it, stood in the -van of progress, in Benham's fashionable new quarter beyond the River -Drive. No pains or expense had been spared to make these mansions -impressive and magnificent. Architects of repute had been employed to -superintend their construction, and their decorations and furnishings -had been chosen in consultation with persons whose business it was to -know the whereabouts of admirable objects of art, and to tempt -impecunious noble families abroad to exchange their unique treasures -for dazzling round sums of American gold. - -Mrs. Wilson could fairly be termed the leader of social activity in -Benham, if such a term be compatible with the institutions of a country -where every women is supposed to be a law unto herself. Fashions, in -the narrow sense of clothes, are in America set by the dressmakers, but -what Mrs. Wilson wore was always a matter of moment to women who wished -to be in style. She dressed elegantly, and she was able to take -liberties with the dressmakers, doing daring things with colors and -materials which justified themselves, yet were so individual that they -were liable to make guys of those who copied her. Consequently, her -wardrobe had a distinction of its own which proclaimed fashion yet -defied it. Yet her clothes, striking and superb as they often were, -constituted only a small part of her social effectiveness. Her -gracious finished manners, and quick, tactful intelligence were the -agents of a spirit perpetually eager to be occupied and to lead, and -which had found a labor of love in directing what may well be called -Benham's ęsthetic renaissance. - -For Benham's evolution had been no mere growth of bricks and mortar, -and no mere triumph in census figures over other centres of population. -Even more remarkable and swift than its physical changes had been the -transformation in the point of view of its citizens. Twenty years -earlier--in 1870, when Mr. Prentiss was a young man just starting in -the ministry--he had been one of a small group of earnest souls -interested in awakening the public to a consciousness of the paucity of -their ęsthetic interests, and to the value of color as a stimulating -factor in the every-day life of the community, and as such he had often -deplored the aridity of Benham's point of view. In those days the city -was virtually a hot-bed of republican simplicity and contempt for -social refinements so far as all but a very small percentage of the -inhabitants was concerned. Those who built houses larger and finer -than their neighbors were few in number and were stigmatized, if not as -enemies of the institutions of the country, as purse-proud and -frivolous. Hotels were conducted on the theory that what was good -enough for the landlord was good enough for the guest, and that -malcontents could go elsewhere. In matters appertaining to art, -hygiene, education or municipal management, one man's opinion was -regarded as equal to any other's, provided he could get the job. -Special knowledge was sneered at, and the best patriots in the public -estimation were those who did not distrust the ability of the average -citizen to produce masterpieces in the line of his or her employment by -dint of raw genius untrammelled or unpolluted by the experience of -older civilizations. Though solid business men wore solemn-looking -black frock-coats and black wisp ties in business hours, to dress again -in the evening was looked at askance as undemocratic. It would have -been considered an invasion of the rights of the free-born citizen to -forbid expectoration in the street cars. Suggestions that the vicious -and unregenerate adult pauper poor should not be herded with the young, -that busy physicians should cleanse a lancet before probing a wound, -and that sewage should not be emptied into a river used as a source of -water supply, were still sniffed at by those in charge of public -affairs as aristocratic innovations unworthy the attention of a -sovereign people. Architectural beauty both within and without the -house was disregarded in favor of monotonous sober hues and solid -effects, which were deemed to be suggestive of the seriousness of the -national character. - -While deploring some of these civic manifestations, Mr. Prentiss had -appreciated that the basis of this ęsthetic sterility was ethical. -When less discerning persons had attributed it solely to ignorance and -self-righteous superficiality he had maintained that a puritanical, yet -moral and sincere, hostility to extravagance and display was -responsible for the preference for ugly architecture and homely -upholstery and decoration, and that conscience was the most formidable -obstacle to progress. As a priest of a church which fostered beauty -and favored rational enjoyment of the fruits of the earth, he had never -sympathized with this public attitude, but he had understood and, as an -American, respected it. - -Now, in the twinkling of an eye, as it were, all was changed, and -Benham was in the throes of a revival; a revival which during the last -ten years had revolutionized Benham's architecture and Benham's point -of view. The public had become possessed by the conviction that they -had outgrown their associations and that the standards hitherto revered -were out of date and unworthy of a nation and a city pledged to -enlighten the world, upon whom prosperity had been bestowed in large -measure. The group of earnest souls who had dared to criticise seemed -suddenly to have become a phalanx--numerically unimportant, still, when -compared with the whole population, that seething army of industrial -wage-earners--but assertive and energetic out of proportion to their -numbers. The city had become a hive of reforming activities. -Specialists in the arts and humanities were no longer classed as -traitors, but were welcomed by a growing clientage as safeguards -against bumptious individualism. Though a cheerful optimism in regard -to the city's architectural merits still prevailed at large, a silent -censorship was at work; substituting, in the business quarter, new -mammoth structures adapted to modern industrial needs, erecting in the -fashionable quarter, by the aid of American architects trained in -Paris, well-built and individual-looking residences. Instead of three -or four cheerless, barrack-like caravansaries with sodden cookery, -there was a score of modern hotels, the proprietors of which vied with -one another in their endeavors to lure patronage by costly and -sumptuous innovations. There were comfortable and inviting -restaurants. The slap-dash luncheon counter, with its display of -pallid pie and one cadaverous chicken, was waning in the popular -esteem, in favor of neat spas, at which the rush of patronage was -alleviated by clean service and wholesome fare. There were eight -theatres, each more spacious and splendid than its predecessor. A -frowsy black coat, worn in the forenoon, had ceased to be a badge of -patriotism or moral worth, and the community had become alive to the -values of spruceness, color, and comfort in matters of dress. Not only -this, but on the streets of Benham there were many stylish equipages -with liveried grooms, and in the superb homes which the wealthy -citizens had established, there were grand entertainments, where -rivalry was rampant and money flowed like champagne. And last, but not -least, there was Mrs. Randolph Wilson, the quintessence in her own -person of all that was best in this revival in favor of the beautiful -things of life, the living embodiment of this newly directed and -freshly inspired energy. For well-to-do Benham and Mr. Prentiss liked -to believe that the impulse behind these materialistic manifestations -was conscience and aspiration, a reaching out for a greater human -happiness and a wider human usefulness than had been possible under the -old dispensation. This access of lavish philanthropy and study of -charitable methods, this zeal of committees promoting new and more -thorough methods in hygiene and education, and all the phases of this -new awakening in quest of Christian beauty signified to him -Benham's--and hence American--originality and fervor refined and -spiritualized; Benham's enterprise and independence informed, -chastened, and fortified. - -And yet there was another side to this whole matter which had haunted -Mr. Prentiss much of late, and which was in his thoughts to-night as he -sat smoking his cigar after dinner. He had dined sumptuously. Cool -oysters, soup of mushrooms, fish smothered in a luscious sauce, cutlets -of venison with French beans, little pyramids of _paté de foie gras_ -encased in jelly, butter-ball ducks with a salad richly dressed, and a -confection of fruit, cream, and pastry, which was evidently a -gastronomic specialty of Mrs. Wilson's French cook. He had tasted -everything; he had drunk two glasses of champagne, and been pleasantly -aware that the cup of black coffee, served after dinner, was an -entrancing concoction which his own kitchen did not afford; and he felt -that his repast had done him good. It was for him an occasion. -Obviously it was for Mrs. Wilson an every-day affair. Moreover, this -rich, delicious dinner, served by noiseless servants on choice china, -was in harmony with the rest of the magnificent establishment, in -harmony with the artistic scheme of color, the soft lustrous draperies, -the striking pictures and other masterpieces of art purchased for large -sums abroad, and Mrs. Wilson's beautiful toilette and exquisite -personality. Here was luxury triumphant and compelling, yet unappeased -and seeking fresh opportunities for ęsthetic delight; as witness a -Millet, an inlaid table, and a Japanese idol in the room in which he -sat, all new since he had dined there last. - -What a vivid contrast all this to the cheerless often squalid homes -which he was accustomed to visit as a rector of Christ's church! The -thought which haunted him was that one result of the city's marvellous -growth and development had been the accentuation of the distinctions -between rich and poor, between class and class in a community where, -until lately, there had been theoretically no classes. To be sure he -had Mr. Carleton Howard's assertion that there was no country in the -world where the poor man was so well off. This was very likely true, -but it did not affect the proposition that the rich were daily growing -richer and more self-indulgent. What was to be the limit--the outcome -of this renaissance of beauty and comfort, which he had welcomed? Had -not the ęsthetic reaction almost reached the point where, both as a -priest of God and as a good American, it behooved him to cry halt -against luxury and extravagance? He frowned at this last reflection -for the reason that he was painfully aware that he had fulminated -against this sort of thing from the pulpit for years, formerly as part -of the clerical formula championing the cause of the spirit against the -flesh, and latterly because the Aladdin-like growth of great fortunes -all over the land, and conspicuously in his own community, had often -suggested the comparison between the passage of a camel through the eye -of a needle and the rich man's entrance into the kingdom of heaven as -an appropriate text. He had spoken with fervor and sincerity -concerning the responsibilities of those having great possessions, and -sometimes with living pictures in his mind. Neither Mrs. Wilson nor -her brother had ever been among those for whom these admonitions were -intended. They had opened their purse-strings liberally to every -meritorious cause. The goodly size of their cheques was to him a -constant source both of satisfaction and astonishment--astonishment at -the new possibilities open to those interested in God's kingdom. - -Yet, though he put from him as ungenerous and unnecessary any positive -criticism of his hostess, in the teeth of her many benefactions and her -personal activity in social undertakings, he could not help realizing -that, in spite of his utterances, the evil which he deprecated was -proceeding at a pace which suggested the course of wild-fire. And the -worst of it was that he--the church--was so helpless. Great fortunes -had been accumulated with a zeal which suggested the inevitable march -of destiny--a law which seemed almost to mock the spirit of -Christ--and, even while he was musing, the city had become a theatre of -industrial contrasts, with the pomp and pride of life in the centre of -the stage and poverty and distress in the ample background. There -recurred to him the traditional image of the curate of his faith--the -Church of England--cringing before or patronized by the titled -worshippers of Mammon. This, at least, he could resent as impossible -in his case--he had never hesitated to speak his mind to any of his -parishioners, however important--still, the reminder was disconcerting -and a challenge to his conscience. Nor was the reflection that this -wave of luxury, this more and more exacting reverence for material -comforts, was a part of the movement of the century, and was common to -all civilized countries, a solace. He was an American, but first of -all, he was a servant of the church, and the church was the beacon of -civilization. Was she doing her work, if these terrible inequalities -were to continue? What was to be the outcome of this zest for -luxurious personal comfort? - -To what extent the church ought to take part in the economic -regeneration of the world was one of the questions which Mr. Prentiss -had always found perplexing. He was well aware that his parishioners -as a body were not fond of hearing him preach on what they called -secular subjects. So long as he confined himself to enumerating -spiritual truths, they were not averse to his illustrating his stigmas -upon sin by generalizations from current worldly abuses; but he knew -that many shook their heads and declared that the cobbler should stick -to his last when he ventured to discourse on political topics or the -relations of labor and capital. Mr. Prentiss was not aware, however, -that some of this prejudice proceeded from the circumstance that he was -apt to lose his head on such occasions; but, on the other hand, much of -it was genuine disinclination for advice from the pulpit on subjects -which, to quote the women parishioners, were not spiritual, and, to -quote the men, were none of his business. His congregation was almost -entirely composed of pew owners, people with vested rights, among which -appeared to be the right not to be harrowed by socialistic doctrines. -They were ready to help the poor in any way which he would suggest, and -they had supplied him with a mission church where he could reach the -ignorant and needy more effectively, but they argued that he had better -leave to the politicians all suggestions tending to disturb the -existing industrial order. - -Mr. Prentiss sometimes sighed over these limitations, but he had become -used to them, and in a measure, with advancing years, he had, in his -endeavor to be a man of the world in order to remain a more useful -Christian, accepted the doctrine that he had no plan to substitute for -the present economic system, and that he must make the best of the -existing situation. So, in practical, daily life, he exhorted the rich -to give their money and themselves to the advancement of their fellow -men, and the poor to shun vice and bear their privations with patience, -while he held forth the promise of the church of an existence hereafter -for the pure in heart where all the seeming inconsistencies of this -mortal life would be explained and justified. Not being endowed with -much sense of humor, Mr. Prentiss, as he waxed in years, and St. -Stephen's became the fashionable church of the city, had found less and -less difficulty in accommodating himself to this point of view, and in -devoting all his ardor to reclaiming souls for Christ. After all, was -not his mission to help men and women as he found them? First of all -to minister to their souls, and in the name of Christianity to lift -them from the slough of human suffering and misfortune that he might -expound to them the loving mercies of the Lord? The things of the -earth were not the things of the spirit, and he was more tenacious than -in his youth of the prerogatives of the church as an institution -controlling human consciences by standards of its own, founded on the -teachings of the Prince of Peace. Nevertheless, being reasonably -clear-headed and fearless, he was not without the suspicion at times -that this reasoning was mystical, and in the face of facts he had every -now and then his unpleasant quarters of an hour. - -This was one of them to-night. His hostess, when the dinner was over, -had left him to a cigar and his own devices in the library. He was to -join her presently and be shown her daughter's wedding presents. He -had been invited to dine in order that he might see them, but Mrs. -Wilson and he both knew that this was an excuse for a quiet evening -together in which they might compare notes concerning their mutual -interests. Reaching out to knock off the ash of his cigar into a -dainty porcelain wheelbarrow, he noticed a new photograph on the -mantel-piece and rose to examine it. He recognized it as one of -Clarence Waldo, the New Yorker to whom Miss Lucille Wilson was -betrothed. The sight of this young man's countenance did not serve to -restore Mr. Prentiss's serenity. On the contrary, he stood gazing at -the photograph with an expression which suggested that his soul was -still perturbed. The face was that of a man of twenty-seven or eight -with delicate features--thin lips, a long nose and an indefinable -haughtiness of expression which was made up of weariness and disdain. -He had large eyes which lacked lustre, and his sparse hair gave the -effect of having been carefully brushed. The clergyman had met him -only a few times, and Mr. Prentiss had never forgotten the first -occasion, which was at Lucille's coming-out ball three years before. -He had happened to find himself in Mr. Waldo's path when the young man -was in the act of carrying everything before him with a plate of salad -for his partner, and he had never forgotten the cold impertinence of -the New Yorker's stare. Paul Howard, Lucille's cousin, who witnessed -the encounter, said afterward that Clarence had given Mr. Prentiss the -dead eye, which was a telling description of the stoniness of the -fashionable New Yorker's gaze. Mr. Prentiss had never heard this -diagnosis, but he had remembered the episode. He regarded it, however, -merely as additional evidence of the lack of reverence on the part of -the young men of the day--and the young women, too, for the matter of -that--not merely for sacred things, but for everything and everybody -which were in their way or did not happen to appeal to their fancy. -But though he considered this absence of social politeness as one of -the cardinal failings of the age, his present thoughts regarding -Lucille's future husband were not concerned with it. - -Since the engagement had been announced four months ago he had been -making inquiries, and the information which he had received was in his -mind and troubled his soul as a corollary of the other problems which -had just been haunting him. It was not of a character to justify him -in forbidding the bans--not even in remonstrating with Mrs. Wilson, -unless she were to ask his advice or provide him with an opportunity. -But he deplored sincerely that this young man was to marry his friend's -daughter. Was this to be the outcome, the crowning of the wealth of -love and solicitude which had been lavished on this only child--a child -brought up in his church? Was it for this that Lucille had been made -the central figure of costly entertainments for the last three years, -in the hope that she might make a brilliant match? Decidedly, it was a -puzzling world, and circumstances seemed to be conspiring to cloud his -horizon and disturb his digestion at a time when he ought to be -enjoying himself and taking his ease. - -"What does he offer her?" he said to himself. "Twelve months of -sporting life--American sporting life. A superb stable, a four-in-hand -coach and steam yacht, polo, golf, the horse show, cards, six months -every third year in Europe, their summers at Newport, their winters at -Palm Beach. The fortune which she will bring him will enable them to -live in the lap of luxury all the year round, and he will teach her to -regard those who are not rich and who do not imitate their manner of -life as beneath their notice. I know the kind--I know the kind." - -Soft footsteps interrupted his mental soliloquy. "No, thank you," he -exclaimed in a tone which was almost militant to the waiters who -approached him with a tray. Mr. Prentiss supposed that another form of -stimulant was being offered him, for Madeira, liqueurs and coffee had -been successively brought in and solemnly presented to him by the two -men servants, one of whom seemed to him as superfluous as a plumber's -helper. Then as his gaze, which had been inward, appreciated that the -silver gilt tumbler contained apollinaris water, he called them back -and emptied the glass. He had finished his cigar and it was time to -rejoin his hostess. - - - - -VIII - -Mr. Prentiss continued his monologue on his way to the drawing-room. -He imagined himself saying to Mrs. Wilson, "You know that I believe in -toleration, and that I would not set or preach an ascetic standard of -life. I believe--my church believes--that it is not profitable to the -human soul to mortify the flesh in every-day life or refuse to enjoy -the comforts of civilization. But the set of people to which this -young man belongs are cumberers of the soil and a menace to society. -It is not merely a question of taste, but of Christian morals. We have -nothing to do with other nations; our concern is with the social life -of this nation and whether we are to foster and encourage a -pleasure-loving, self-indulgent, and purposeless leisure class." - -Yet though his thoughts thus shaped themselves in fervent words, he was -conscious that in the absence of a cue his lips must remain sealed. -There was a limit imposed by society on the priestly office which he -could not overstep without appearing officious, and thus weakening his -influence. Were it a case of notorious dissipation or some palpable -fault or blemish, it would be his duty to speak. But he had no such -data at his command. Clarence Waldo was simply a fastidious idler, -pretentious, and indifferent to the vital interests of life. It could -not even be charged that he was marrying Lucille for her money, as he -had a competency of his own. They would be able to buy all the dogs -and horses in the country if they saw fit. But his own tongue was -tied. To all appearances Mrs. Wilson was content. At the time she had -announced her daughter's engagement to him, she had said, in response -to his earnest inquiry if she were satisfied--said it with a blithe -smile, as though, on the whole, the best had happened--"I should have -been glad of course, if Lucille had chosen a man of conspicuous talent, -a future United States Senator or successful artist or author. If she -had loved her lord, I should not have objected to a title, because, -after all, even to a free-born American, there is a certain -compensation in becoming the mother of dukes and regenerating an -ancient line. But Clarence is well connected, and the child is in love -with him. So long as she is happy, that is the essential thing." - -Since then he had become better informed as to the young man's -tendencies. But if Lucille was in love with him and her mother -acquiescent, what was there to do? The church could not interfere -beyond a certain point without giving offence. - -Mrs. Wilson was not in the drawing-room, but Mr. Prentiss caught a -glimpse of her at her desk in a smaller room which led out of it. She -called to him that she was answering a note and would join him -presently. The clergyman seated himself and picking up from a low teak -table beside him a paper-cutter fashioned on a Japanese sword hilt he -compressed his fingers on the handle as an outlet to his perplexity. -Had he been walking in the fields, he would have cut off the heads of -the dandelions with his cane. Marriage was a sacrament, the most -solemn undertaking in life, yet how impossible it was to regulate -matrimony for others. He glanced around the room admiringly. Already -the musical notes of his hostess's voice had served to dissipate -partially the miasma of doubt which had been assailing him. This main -apartment was one of a series of drawing-rooms, each furnished with an -exquisite magnificence suggestive of the salons of France in the days -of Louis XIV, save that there was a superabundance of artistic -furnishings; hence the sight was confused by the array of costly -tapestries, marbles, bronzes, china, and gilt or otherwise illuminated -ornaments which almost contended for space with one another, though the -rooms were of large proportions. One feature of Benham's renaissance -was the ambition to outdo the past in size and gorgeousness, but Mrs. -Wilson's advisers had been animated also by the desire for artistic -success, and it was only in its wealth of material that their and -her--for she had been the leading spirit after all--performance was -open to criticism. Here in Benham, where twenty years before the -horse-hair sofa was still an object of admiring regard in the homes of -the well-to-do, the desert had blossomed with the rose, and a veritable -palace had been established. And, as Mr. Prentiss reflected, joining -his finger-tips across his waist-band, all this lavish expenditure -meant the return by the rich of accumulated wealth into circulation for -the benefit of those who labored for their bread, which was another of -Mr. Carleton Howard's telling truths. - -The swift, animated, but noiseless glide of Mrs. Wilson into the room -and onto a sofa, from which she flashed at him a gracious, electric -look of attention with the words, "And now, my friend, I am entirely at -your disposal. It was a note which had to be answered at -once"--restored Mr. Prentiss's serenity. She was one of those pleasant -persons in whose presence the world seems justified. When she entered -a room people were apt to pay tribute by a pause in whatever they were -doing, and she became the focus of attention. The effect of her -graceful energy was largely responsible for this, suggesting the -forceful but silent sweep of a ship. She had lost the figure and the -countenance of youth, but though her abundant crinkly hair was grizzled -no one ever thought of her age except to observe that she was handsomer -than as a younger woman. She had never been a beauty; she was now a -distinguished looking, comely, and effective matron. She was tall and -rather willowy, but not thin, with a proud, resolutely carried head, an -agreeable straight nose, short rather than long (her best feature) a -spirited, sympathetic smile, eyes fundamentally gray, which changed as -her thoughts changed, and ingratiating but elegant manners. Her face, -notably the cheeks and lips, was a trifle full, suggesting dimples, and -possibly to the critical a too-manifest desire to please. Her obvious -pose--which, though deliberate was entirely genuine--was to be -exquisite, sympathetic, and intellectual, and for the expression of -this range of qualities she had serviceable allies in her musical -voice, a bewitching way of showing just enough of her teeth, when she -became vivacious, and her ornamental clothes, which always suited her. -On this evening she wore an old-gold gown with jet and lace -accompaniments, an aigrette of crimson gauze with which the plumage of -her fan was in harmony, a band of magnificent pearls around her neck, -and on her breast, though such ornaments were not strictly in fashion, -a large brooch of fine workmanship containing a miniature of two -children of tender age. Of these children one had died shortly after -the miniature was painted, the other was her daughter Lucille. Her -soul was dedicated to two interests, her joy and ambition as a mother, -and to the cause of social human progress. - -Mrs. Wilson had been for fifteen years a widow, and, though her husband -held a hallowed place in her heart, even she was conscious that the -broad scope of her present life dated from the period when, seeking a -refuge from her own grief and loneliness, she had welcomed diverse -social employment. Her husband, Randolph, a hero and a colonel of the -Civil War, had claimed her on his return as a bride. They were ardent -lovers, and they had never ceased to be so, certainly not in theory. -Some of Mrs. Wilson's knowing friends were fond of insinuating, when -the humor for gossip prevailed, that he had died just in time, which -was their way of intimating that she had outgrown him. But these -dissectors of hearts did not perhaps sufficiently remember that her own -blossoming forth into the woman she now was had been subsequent to her -husband's death. Nor did they take sufficiently into account the -bewildering course of events which had attended her progress. Colonel -Wilson, a man of small means at the time of their marriage, had become -her brother's partner. The properties in which he was interested at -the time of his death had subsequently proved so valuable that she had -found herself presently the possessor of a million, a sum which had -quadrupled in the keeping of her brother, Carleton Howard, one of the -most powerful financiers in the country. Opportunity surely had waited -on her widening aspirations, enabling her finally to establish herself -in this magnificent home surrounded by all the ęsthetic attractions and -many of the treasures of modern civilization. - -Probably Mrs. Wilson herself had never sought to analyze the past by -the light of the present, realizing, as we all do, that life unbeknown -to us has halting-places which become, as we look back, the dividing -lines between what are almost separate existences. Though at her -husband's death she had made no resolutions regarding the future, she -had never felt the impulse to marry again, so engrossing were the -concerns of motherhood and social responsibility. - -"You spoke at dinner of wishing my assistance in some case in which you -are interested. Will you tell me about it now before we look at the -presents?" Mrs. Wilson continued with smiling interest. - -"Ah, yes." Mr. Prentiss was glad to have this recalled to his mind. -There was no chance here for doubt or perplexity. "It is rather out of -the usual run of charity cases. The personality of the woman, I mean. -The circumstance that her husband has run away and left her penniless, -with two young children to support is, alas! only too common." - -"Poor thing! How can I be of service?" - -"The woman--her name is Mrs. Stuart--notwithstanding her disastrous -marriage, seems to me distinctly superior. She came to Benham some six -or seven years ago, and I knew her a little at St. Stephen's before she -was a wife. Indeed, I married them, and made some inquiries at the -time concerning the husband's circumstances, but learned nothing to his -discredit. She has found him to be a godless, unscrupulous person with -drinking habits, and recently he has deserted her on the grandiose plea -that they would be happier apart. She will be happier; I am sure of -that; but I have been exercised as to how to enable her to become -self-supporting. She is called to higher usefulness than scrubbing or -plain sewing, but though I have discerned in her capabilities and -refinement, she is not at present equipped for any active employment." - -"Which only tends to show, my friend, that every woman"--Mrs. Wilson -paused an instant--"every woman who has not independent means of her -own, I mean, should be educated to be self-supporting--should have some -definite bread-winning occupation which would render her independent of -the man she marries in case he dies or misbehaves. I was thinking the -other day that a society formed to advocate this doctrine before clubs -of girls as a condition of marriage would prove efficacious." - -Mr. Prentiss nodded. "It is certainly the duty of Christian society to -provide additional safeguards against the consequences of improvident -wedlock. In this particular instance, the young woman plighted her -troth while she was studying to become a kindergarten teacher. She was -a country doctor's daughter, and is gentle and refined, as well as -intelligent in appearance--one of those lithe, tense American -personalities in which the spirit appears to burn at the expense of the -body, but which, like the willow, bend but do not break under the -stress of life." - -"She sounds interesting, and I do not see that she has been to blame. -We must raise a fund for her. With how large a subscription shall I -head the list?" Though Mrs. Wilson gave freely on merely charitable -grounds, she gave with more enthusiasm when the objects of her bounty -had not offended her sense of the social fitness of things. - -The clergyman put out his hand. "That wouldn't do exactly, I think. -She is not too proud to let us help her for a few weeks with coal and -groceries until she can earn for herself. She realizes that she must -be sensible, if only for the children's sake. She has an independent -simplicity of nature and clearness of perception which would stand in -the way, I fear, of her accepting a donation such as you have in mind; -though I should dearly love to allow you to pay off the encumbrances on -their house, which, owing to her husband's rascalities have eaten up -her little home--her patrimony. But I am sure she would refuse." - -"I see. We should think less of her if she allowed herself to be -pauperized, much as I should enjoy giving her a deed of her home free -and clear--the mere thought of it causes me a thrill of pleasure. But -the worst of such tragedies is that we are most powerless to aid those -who are most deserving." Mrs. Wilson leaned back among her cushions, -and, drawing a pale pink rose from a bunch in a vase at her elbow, laid -it along her cheek and inhaled its fragrance. "If she were an -undiscerning, common spirit with workaday sensibilities, as so many of -them are, she would not refuse, but--half the pleasure of giving would -be lost. It is a privilege and the fashion to be charitable, but so -much of our charity consists in filling the mouths and clothing the -bodies of the wretched who will never be appreciably different or -strive to be different from what they are." - -"The poor we have always with us," murmured the clergyman. - -"Always. The shiftless, dirty, unaspiring, unęsthetic poor. The dregs -and lees of human endeavor. We must feed and clothe them, of course, -and help them to help themselves, but sometimes I forget the pathos of -it all in the ugliness and squalor. Consequently, when the chance to -do real good comes, it is a pity not to be able to lift the burden -completely. What, then, can I do for this young person?" - -"I have thought over her case for the last forty-eight hours, and have -come to the conclusion that, as she has no special training, her best -chance for employment is to learn short-hand and to use the typewriter. -I understand that women proficient in this vocation can usually secure -steady work at a fair wage. Though Mrs. Stuart would be unwilling to -accept a direct gift of money, I feel confident that she would not -refuse to let us put her in the position to become -self-supporting--that is, defray the cost of the lessons necessary to -make her a competent stenographer or office clerk. And I thought you -might be glad to pay for these lessons--a matter of six months or so." - -Mr. Prentiss had taken up the paper-cutter again, and he passed the -flat of the metal blade across his palm as though he were smoothing out -his plan as well as the creases. - -"Gladly," she responded. "For as long as you desire. And, perhaps, -when she has learned what is necessary, my brother may know of some -opening for her down-town." - -"Very likely," answered Mr. Prentiss, with resonant acquiescence. "The -same thought had occurred to me." - -"And, in the meantime, since you tell me that she is competent and -refined, my secretary, who will have her hands full with the details of -the wedding, may be able to give her occasional errands to do. You may -tell her to call when her plans are adjusted and to ask for me." - -"Excellent. And we shall both be your debtors." - -Mrs. Wilson smiled graciously, showing the dimples in her cheeks. The -demands made upon her for pecuniary aid were of daily, it might be said -hourly, occurrence. Whoever in Benham was in search of money applied -to her, and the post brought her solicitations from all sorts of -people, among whom were the undeserving or importunate, as well as the -needy or humanitarian. As lady bountiful, she purposed to exercise -intelligent discrimination in her charities, and she accepted thanks as -a tribute to that quality. - -"Come," she said, rising, "I will show you the presents. Only think, -four hundred of them, and so many beautiful things! People have been -so kind. Several of my brother's friends in New York have sent most -exquisite tokens--a necklace of diamonds and pearls from Mr. Fenton the -banker, a gold dessert service from his railroad ally, Mr. Kennard." - -She led the way from the drawing-room suite into the hall, where -electricity in artistic guises illuminated the broad panellings, a -splendid Terriers and three or four bronze or marble statuaries of rare -merit, and up the stair-case to the next floor into what was known as -the morning-room--an apartment where Mrs. Wilson conducted her affairs -and did her reading and thinking. This was a combination of study and -ęsthetic boudoir. There were seductive sofas and quaint capacious -chairs supplied with brightly colored cushions, and dainty draperies, -all in silken stuffs of patterns reminiscent of the Orient. Art, in -its most delicate and spiritual forms, breathed from every object of -furniture or decoration; from the small pictures--some in oils, some in -water-colors--which merited and often demanded the closest scrutiny; -from the few vases of entrancing shape and hue, from the interesting -photographs in beautiful frames, from the curious and rare memorials of -travel and wise choice of what cunning fingers had wrought with -infinite labor. As in the rest of the house, there was still too much -wealth of material, too much scintillation and conglomeration of color, -but the intent had been--and not without success--to produce a more -subtle atmosphere than prevailed outside, as of an inner temple. -Prominent in one angle stood Mrs. Wilson's desk, rose-wood, inlaid with -poetic gilt tracery, and littered with the correspondence of a busy -woman. Books and other articles of daily use lying here and there -without effort at order gave to the room the air of being the intimate -abode of a human soul. Opening out of this was a private music-room, -which was used by Mrs. Wilson and her daughter in preference to the -large music-room on the street floor intended for musical parties and -dances. Here were the wedding presents, a dazzling array of gold, -silver, jewels, glass, china, and ornamental knick-knacks, tastefully -arranged on tables introduced for the purpose. As they entered an -attendant withdrew into the hall. - -"We have thought it more prudent to have a watchman on guard by night -and day," explained Mrs. Wilson; "for I suppose it is true, as one of -those ridiculous newspaper items asserts, that these gifts represent at -least one hundred thousand dollars. By the way," she continued, with a -gentle sigh, "it is so difficult to know what attitude to adopt with -the newspaper people. If one refuses them the house, their -sensibilities are hurt and they are liable to invent falsehoods or -write disagreeable paragraphs. If they are allowed to inspect -everything, they publish details which make one's heart sick, and make -one appear a vain fool. How is a person in my position to be courteous -toward the power of the press and yet to maintain the right to privacy? -Is not this superb?" she added, holding up a crest of diamonds in the -form of a tiara. "My brother's present to Lucille." - -"Beautiful--beautiful, indeed," murmured the clergyman. The sight of -all these costly things was bewildering to his mind as well as to his -eyes. "Ah, the press--the press, it is a problem, indeed. We would -seem to have the right to individual privacy, would we not? And yet in -this age of ours, pressure is so often used upon us to thrust our wares -into the shop-windows--as in my case, sermons for newspapers of the -most sensational class--on the plea of a wider usefulness, a closer -touch with the wilderness of souls, that it is difficult to know where -the rights of the public end as to what one has. What would seem to be -vanity may often be only another form of philanthropy. And yet----" - -"And yet," interposed Mrs. Wilson, as she singled out an enchanting fan -of gold and ivory and the most exquisite lace and spread it for his -inspection, "why should I pander to the vulgar curiosity of the public? -It is none of their business." - -"In a matter of this kind I quite agree with you. If they could see -all these beautiful things, there might be some sense in it; but that -would be out of the question, of course." - -"That will be the next step; our houses thrown open to the madding -crowd. Six newspapers--two from New York--applied recently for leave -to see the presents. I intended to refuse firmly, but to my -astonishment Lucille seemed disappointed. It never occurred to me that -she would not hate the publicity. She gave a little shriek and said, -'Mamma, how dreadful!' and then added in the next breath, 'Everybody -does it, and, as something is sure to be printed, might it not be -better to make certain that it's correct?' A day or two later she was -photographed in her tiara, and from what has transpired since I fear -that the idea of publicity was not foreign to her thought. My child, -Mr. Prentiss! Only think of it! One can never quite understand the -point of view of the rising generation. I consulted Carleton, and he -grew successively irate, contemplative, philosophical, and weak-kneed. -In short, a week ago a reportorial woman, with the social appetite of a -hyena and the keen-eyed industry of a ferret, passed the forenoon in -the house and went away with a photograph of Lucille in the tiara. And -what is worst of all, in spite of my humiliation at the whole -proceeding, I am decidedly curious to see what she has written." - -The sound of voices in the morning-room broke in upon this confession. -"Ah, here you are, Aunt Miriam! I have brought you an artistic -masterpiece with a felicitous biography of the distinguished heroine. -Behold and admire!" - -The speaker was Paul Howard, Mrs. Wilson's nephew. He advanced from -the doorway with radiant, teasing face, holding out a newspaper at -which he pointed delightedly. At his heels followed Lucille and -Clarence Waldo, she protesting, yet betraying by her laughing confusion -that her indignation was half-hearted; he stalking with self-important -gravity save for a thin smile, the limit of his deliberate -contributions to the gayety of nations unless under the influence of -alcoholic conviviality. At men's gatherings there was a stage in the -proceedings when Clarence Waldo became decorously mellow and -condescended--indeed, expected to be asked--to sing one of three or -four quasi-humorous ditties at his command, a function which he seemed -to regard as an important social contribution and for which he -practised in secret. Also, after luncheon or dinner, he was liable to -lay down the law in loud tones in regard to current sporting affairs. -But his habitual manner was languid and his expression cold, as though -he feared to compromise himself by interest or enthusiasm. He was very -tall. In the centre of his crown was a bald spot. He stooped -slightly, and, except among his intimates, looked straight before him -lest he might see someone whom he did not wish to know. In the rear of -this family party came Carleton Howard, stepping firmly yet -deliberately, as he always did, as though he walked abreast of Time, -not tagging at her skirts like so many of his contemporaries--a fine -figure of a man approaching sixty, with a large body, but not -corpulent, a broad brow, a strong, defiant nose, iron-gray hair and a -closely cut iron-gray mustache, clear, fearless, yet reflective eyes, -and a mouth the pleasant tension of which indicated both determination -and tact. He was smoking a cigar, and had come in from his own library -to enjoy the bearding of his sister by the young people. - - - - -IX - -Before Mrs. Wilson could ascertain what it was, Lucille made a dash at -the newspaper. Paul thrust it behind his back. - -"Give it to me, Paul," demanded the young woman, imperiously. "I order -you to give it to me," she reiterated, tapping her foot. "You are a -hateful tease." - -[Illustration: "Give it to me, Paul," demanded the young woman -imperiously] - -"Surely, my fair cousin, you're not going to deprive your mother of the -satisfaction of gazing on this work of art, and reading this -appreciative description of your personal charms? Can you not see how -impatient she is to have it all to herself?" - -"You have certainly whetted my curiosity, Paul," said Mrs. Wilson. - -"I forbid you to show it to her." - -"Why?" - -"It is too ridiculous and foolish, and the picture--" Her criticism on -that score instead of seeking words culminated in another spring, which -Paul evaded by wheeling spryly about so that he still faced her. - -Paul Howard was an ornamental, attractive specimen of athletic, -optimistic American youth; a fine animal of manly, well-knit -proportions with no sign of physical weakness or of effeminacy in his -person or his face. His countenance was open and ruddy; his eyes clear -blue, his hair light brown. His lip was scrupulously clean-shaven, -exposing the full, pleasant strength of his father's mouth. Indeed, in -conformity with the prevailing fashion among his contemporaries, he -wore neither mustache, beard, nor whiskers, as though in immaculate -protest against every style of hirsute ornamentation, from the -goat-like beard of Methodistical statesmanship to the spruce mustache -and well-trimmed whiskers of men of the world of fifteen years earlier. -He was a Harvard graduate; he had been on the foot-ball team, and a -leading spirit in the social life of the college; had been around the -globe since graduation, and spent nearly a year shooting big game in -the Rockies and getting near to nature, as he called it, by living on a -ranch. All this as preliminary to taking advantage of the golden spoon -which was in his mouth at his birth. At twenty-three he had signified -that he was ready to buckle down to the responsibilities of guarding -and increasing the family possessions, an announcement delighting his -father's heart, who had feared, perhaps, lest his only son might -conclude to become merely a clubman or a poet. This was the fourth -year of his novitiate, much of which had been spent in New York, where -Mr. Howard, though his home was in Benham, had established a branch of -his banking-house, at the head of which he intended presently to place -Paul. On the young man's twenty-fifth birthday the magnate had made -him a present of a million dollars so as to put him on his feet and -permit him to support a wife. If this were a hint, Paul had taken it. -Though absorbed in financial undertakings of magnitude (which had -included the electric street-car combination hostile to the aspirations -of Emil Stuart), he had wooed and wed one of the prettiest girls in -Benham, and he possessed, not many blocks away, a stately establishment -of his own. He was accustomed to walk hand in hand with prosperity, -and this habit was reflected in the gay and slightly self-satisfied -quality of his manliness. - -After foiling his cousin for a few moments, with a tantalizing smile, a -new idea occurred to him. He held out the newspaper, saying, "Very -well then, here it is. I dare you, Lucille, to destroy it. Nothing -would induce you to part with it." - -Lucille snatched the sheet from his hand, and her ruffled hesitation -indicated that to destroy it was the last thing she had intended. In -another instant she tore the newspaper into strips with an air of -disdain and cast them on the floor. Delighted at the success of his -taunt, Paul stooped and gathering the fragments began to piece them -together. - -"That is only a blind. She knows she can buy a dozen copies to-morrow. -Listen, Aunt Miriam, to this gem which I have rescued: 'The fair bride -has a complexion of cream of alabaster, with beautiful almond-shaped -eyes, and hair of black lustre, which, rising from her forehead in -queenly bands, seems the natural throne of the glittering diadem in the -picture, one of her choicest bridal gifts.' Could anything be more -exquisite and fetching?" He gave a laugh which was almost a whoop of -exultation. - -"No matter, Lucille," said Mrs. Wilson, coming to her daughter's -rescue. "It is only envy on Paul's part. The newspapers did not make -half so much of his wedding." In her own heart she did not approve of -the publicity, but the sense of importance which it conveyed was not -without its effect even on her. Besides, the personal description, -though florid in style, was to her maternal eyes not an exaggerated -estimate of her daughter's charms. - -"The writer was evidently under the spell of her subject," said Mr. -Prentiss, gallantly. Though tolerant of banter, especially at clerical -gatherings, and partial to Paul Howard as one of the young men whom he -desired to draw into closer union with the church, the idea of the -possibilities of the newspaper as a dispenser of benefits was still in -his mind, and served to minimize the vanity, if any, of his friend's -daughter. - -"Quite naturally, Mr. Prentiss," retorted the tormenting Paul, "for the -subject gave a private audience to the writer only a few days ago." - -Paul spoke from the desire to tease, not because he objected actively -to the connivance of his cousin with the designs of the press. If the -opportunity to do away with the whole practice of prying into and -advertising private social matters had been presented to him, he would -gladly have embraced it, and welcomed at the same time the further -opportunity to tar and feather or duck the race of social reporters. -But as an astute and easy-going American he recognized the prevalence -of the habit, and though personally he tried to dodge with good humor -the impertinent inquiries of press agents, he was not disposed to -censure those who yielded to their importunities. Indeed, Paul Howard -was so bubbling over with health prosperity, and a generally roseate -conception of life as he saw it, that he shrank from active criticism -of existing social conditions. He was a strong patriot, and it pleased -him to believe that Americans were world-conquerors and world-teachers. -Hence that it was the part of good Americans to join hands all round -and, avoiding nice strictures, to put their shoulders to the wheel of -progress. - -"How absurd you are, Paul," answered Lucille. "That woman badgered me -with questions, and was positively pathetic into the bargain, for she -confided to me that she hated the whole business, but that her bread -and butter depended on it. She was certain to write something, and so -rather than have everything wrong, I told her a few things." - -"And gave her your photograph in the tiara." - -"She asked for it. She saw it lying on the table. Wasn't that better -than to be caricatured by some snap-shot with a camera?" - -The dire results of what would have ensued had she been less -accommodating seemed so convincing to Lucille as she recited them that -her tone changed from defence to conviction. - -"I know a woman," said Clarence Waldo, "who told her servants not to -let any of those newspaper beggars inside the house, and what do you -suppose happened? On the day of the wedding there appeared an -insulting account of the affair with everything turned topsy-turvy and -disparaging remarks about both families. It's an awful bore, but when -people of our sort are married the public doesn't like to be kept in -the dark, you know." - -"There! You see!" exclaimed Lucille, triumphantly. - -The description of this young lady which her cousin had read was -fundamentally correct. Her eyes could scarcely be called -almond-shaped, but their curves were more gradual than those of most -American women, a feature which, in conjunction with her thin lips and -thin, pointed nose, gave to her countenance an expression of -fastidiousness, which was characteristic. She was an example of the -so-called Gibson girl, with a tall and springy, yet slight, figure, and -a race-horse air which suggested both mettle and disdain. She had been -brought up on the theory of free development--a theory for which not -her mother but the tendency of the day was responsible. Parents, when -it comes to a choice in educational methods, are apt at heart to -recognize their own personal ignorance, and those with the highest aims -for their offspring are most likely to adopt the newest fashionable -graft on human experience. We are perpetually on the look-out for -discoveries which will enable our children to become the bright -particular stars which we are not. So what more natural than that Mrs. -Wilson, with her ardent bent for improving social conditions, should -swallow--hook, bait, and sinker--the theory that the budding -intelligence should be cajoled and humored, not thwarted and coerced? -The idea thus pursued at kindergarten, that everything should be made -easy and agreeable for the infant mind, had been steadily adhered to, -and Lucille could fairly be said to have had her own way all her life. -This own way had been at times bewildering, not to say disheartening, -to her mother. Mrs. Wilson had expected and yearned for a soulful, -aspiring, poetic daughter with an ambition for culture--herself, but -reincarnated and much improved. Instead, Lucille had showed herself to -be utterly indifferent to poetry, lukewarm in regard to culture, almost -matter of fact in her mental attitude, and sedulously enamoured of -athletic pursuits. She had a fancy for dogs. From fifteen to eighteen -she had followed golf, tennis, and boating, hatless and with her -sleeves rolled up to her elbows, a free and easy and rather mannerless -maiden, Amazon-like in her bearing, but unlike an Amazon in that she -was a jolly companion to the boys, who called her promiscuously by her -Christian name, as she did them by theirs. Does such a process of -familiarity dull the edge of romance? We do not yet know. Each rising -generation provides new problems for the wise elders, and this was one -of those which had kept Mrs. Wilson uneasy. - -She had looked forward to Lucille's formal introduction to society as a -social corrective, and argued that, as soon as her daughter met the -world face to face, there would be a modification both of Lucille's -tastes and point of view. So strong is the emphasis laid by American -mothers in fashionable society on what is called "the coming out" of -their daughters that the concern engendered by the approach of the -ordeal could fitly be described as a phase of hysteria. The true -perspective of life becomes utterly and absurdly distorted by -apprehension lest the dear child should not have "a good time" and by a -fierce ambition that she should have a better "time" than her mates. -As a consequence, competition--that absorbing passion of American -character--is prone to take advantage of all the opportunities at its -command, not merely to decorate the unprepossessing or provide the duck -with the environment of the swan, but to make princesses out of goose -girls by sheer gorgeous manifestations of the power of the almighty -dollar. We all know that every woman in the world would prefer at -heart to be called wicked rather than common, unless she were -common--one of those extraordinary results of the tyranny of the social -instinct which plays havoc with religious codes; and there is probably -no country where the most socially adept are more intolerant of -commonness than in democratic America--a fact which should be -disconcerting to that form of socialism which yearns for a dead-level. -Yet the tendency to exploit one's daughters by means of money and to -exploit them even with barbaric splendor is current among our most -socially sophisticated people. - -Mr. Carleton Howard's "coming-out" ball for his niece was the most -splendid function which Benham had ever known, and for the next three -years Lucille's life had been one round of social gayety, emphasized by -the character of the things done in her behalf by her family, which -were severally executed, if not conceived, in a spirit of emulation, -though Mrs. Wilson would doubtless have resented the impeachment. Mrs. -Wilson would have put the blame on the tendency of the age, arguing -that American society was becoming more and more exacting in its -Esthetic demands, and that one must conform to existing usage in order -to lead. But an examination of the facts would reveal that whatever -form of entertainment was given by her for Lucille, as, for instance, -the four colored luncheons, when the food and the table ornaments were -successively red, orange, blue, and heliotrope, and four sets of twelve -young girls stuffed themselves through eight courses at mid-day, was -carried out with a lavish accentuation of new and costly effects. It -was currently recognized that at her house the cotillion favors and the -prizes at games were worth having--silver ornaments, pretty fans, -things of price--always a step beyond the last fashion, as though the -world would not be content to stand still, but must be kept moving by -more and more expensive social novelties. - -Though three years of this life had served to transform the mannerless -Amazon into a socially correct and fastidious young woman, the result, -nevertheless, was a secret disappointment to her mother, who had hoped -that Lucille would develop intellectual or ęsthetic tastes under the -influence of these many advantages. But what can a mother whose -daughter prefers athletics to art, and fox terriers to philanthropy, do -but make the best of it? Lucille had a will of her own and seemed to -know exactly what she wished, which included marrying Clarence Waldo. -To thwart her would be useless, to quarrel with her was out of the -question. The only thing was to give her as brilliant a wedding as -possible and hope for the best. And after all, the best was by no -means out of the question. Lucille was young and was going to New -York. There was no telling what a girl of twenty-one, with large means -and the best social opportunities, might not become by the time she was -thirty-five. Mrs. Wilson had herself cast sheep's eyes at New York as -a residence before building her new house, but she had decided to -remain dominant in a small puddle. There were compensations in doing -so. She flattered herself that in this age of telephones and telepathy -she was able to keep in touch with the metropolis and to get her social -cues accordingly. But to have a daughter there would be interesting, -provided all went well. The proviso should not be overlooked; for Mrs. -Wilson had not lowered her own standards. She was merely trying to -extract all the maternal comfort and pride she could out of the -existing situation. - -"But, my dear Lucille," said Paul, intending a crushing blow to his -cousin's returning assurance, "if you were really so anxious to escape -notoriety, you had merely to mention it to father. A word from him -would have silenced every newspaper in town." - -"Scarcely that--scarcely that, young man," interposed Mr. Howard in a -tone of friendly authority. "Very possibly, had I expressed a -preference, my wishes would have been respected by one or two -newspapers where I happen to have some influence. But your statement -is altogether too sweeping." He spoke incisively, as though he desired -to deprecate the suggestion of the power attributed to him by his more -impulsive son. "The press is jealous of its privileges and must be -humored as a popular institution. And, after all, what does a little -publicity matter? You mustn't mind what Paul says, Lucille. There's -no reason to feel abashed because the public has been given a chance to -see the most charming bride of the year." - -"Abashed? She is tickled to death," retorted Paul. - -Mr. Howard put his arm around his niece's shoulder in the guise of a -champion. When controversy had reached the stage where adjustment was -no longer possible, he was an uncompromising antagonist. But, as a -successful man content with existing conditions, he deplored friction -in all the relations of life, and to use an industrial phrase, liked to -see everything running smoothly. He laughed incredulously, and patting -Lucille's arm exclaimed, "Nonsense!" Then, accosting the clergyman, he -added, "Now that this momentous matter has been disposed of, Mr. -Prentiss, will you join me in a cigar in my own library?" - -Mr. Prentiss excused himself. He had work to do, and knew that if he -remained he would be apt to stay late. But he was interested from a -theoretic stand-point in the discussion to which he had been listening. - -"You evidently feel as I do, Mr. Howard," he said, "that there are two -sides to the question of newspaper publicity, and that as good citizens -we are not always at liberty to insist on privacy." - -Mr. Howard answered with the suave force and clearness which gave to -all his utterances the effect of deliberate conviction. "Mr. Prentiss, -I accept the institutions of my country as I find them, and try to make -the best of them. There are those whose only pleasure seems to be to -carp at what they do not wholly admire in our civic system. The press -is one of the most powerful and useful forces of modern life. As such -I value and support it, though I'm keenly alive to the flagrant evils -and the cruel vulgarities for which it is daily responsible. But one -can't afford as an American citizen to condemn as worthless and -ill-begotten the things of which the people as a whole approve. We -must compromise here as in so many matters in our complex civilization, -and where trifles are concerned, be complacent even against our -convictions." - -"Indisputably," said the clergyman. "In the constant faith that our -tolerance will work for improvement." - -"Ah, but the newspapers are worse than ever," exclaimed Mrs. Wilson, -with a sigh. "One has to wade through so much for so little. I read -them scrupulously, because, if I do not, I'm sure to miss something -which I would like to see. That sounds inconsistent. But why doesn't -somebody establish a really first-class newspaper?" - -"Because a newspaper must be first of all a successful business -enterprise in order to be able to exist," responded her brother. "It -is a question of dollars and cents. All that will come presently. And -we are really improving all the time. Just think of what a large and -complicated industry a modern newspaper establishment has grown to be." -He spoke as though he saw and wished to bring before his hearers' eyes -the towering, mammoth homes of the press in all our large cities, the -enforced outcome of the ever-increasing popular demand for the world's -news. "Come, Paul," he said, putting his arm through his son's, "since -Mr. Prentiss will not join us in a cigar we will leave these good -people to their own devices, and go back to our work." - -Paul, with a pocket full of documents and with the obnoxious newspaper -in his hand, had reached the door of his father's house just as Lucille -and her betrothed were alighting from a carriage. Lured by his goading -remarks they had followed him within and into his father's library, -where at a safe distance he had vouchsafed his cousin glimpses of her -tiara-crowned figure and read aloud choice extracts until the spirit -had moved him to pass through the dividing door between the two -establishments in search of his aunt. He had left home with the idea -of an hour's confabulation with his father over certain schemes in -which they were jointly interested--a frequent habit of his late in the -evening. Mr. Carleton Howard never went to bed before one, and was -invariably to be found after eleven in his library reading or -cogitating, and always prepared at that quiet time to give his keenest -intelligence to the issues presented to him. - -Father and son passed along through the secret passageway until they -found themselves in Mr. Howard's capacious library. This superb room -was the result of an architect's conscientious ambition to see what -could be accomplished where his client was obviously willing to obtain -excellence and had imposed on him no limits either in respect to space -or expense. As regards size, it bore the same relation to the ordinary -library of the civilized citizen that the Auditorium in Chicago bears -to every-day hotels, or the steamship _Great Eastern_ bore to other -ocean carriers. Consequently it was a little vast for strict cosiness. -The huge stamped leather chairs and sofas, though inviting, seemed -designed for persons of elephantine figure, in order perhaps to avoid -being dwarfed. But the shelves upon shelves of books which covered -completely from floor to ceiling two of the walls--choice editions in -fine bindings--gained dignity from the superfluous dimensions. If it -be said in this connection that, to one familiar with Mr. Howard's -associations, the idea of many storied office buildings might occur, -the answer is that he was responsible for nothing which the room -contained except its large and admirable display of etchings, which, -owing to almost weekly accretions, had begun to disarrange the original -ęsthetic scheme of the designer. Mr. Howard had left everything else -to his architect, but etchings were his hobby--one which had attracted -his fancy years before by accident, and had retained its hold upon him. -He was familiar now, as a man of sagacity and method, with the many -bibliographical and ethnological treasures by which he was surrounded, -and could exhibit them becomingly, but when the conversation turned on -the etcher's art he was on firm ground and could talk as clearly and -authoritatively as about his railroads. - -The banker chose his favorite seat, within comfortable distance of one -of the fire-places, facing a beautiful polar bear-skin rug of -extraordinary size. Close at hand was a large table with writing -materials and such magazine literature or documents as he might wish to -examine. Adjustable lights were at either elbow, and in the direct -line of his vision as he ordinarily sat were two of his favorite works -of art, an Albert Dürer and a Wenceslaus Hollar. He lighted another -cigar and, after a few puffs, said: - -"That clergyman is decidedly a useful man. He has common sense and he -has discretion." - -"He isn't at all a bad sort," responded Paul. Though guarded in form, -this was intended as an encomium, just as when Paul meant that he had -enjoyed himself thoroughly, he was apt to state that he had had a -pretty good time. Anglo-Saxon youth is proverbially shy of enthusiasm -of the lips lest it be suspected of freshness, as the current phrase -is. "I wonder," he added a moment later as he stood with his back to -the wood fire, straightening his sturdy shoulders against the -mantel-piece, "if he really believes all the things he preaches. I'd -just like to know for curiosity. I suppose he has to preach them even -if he doesn't or else be fired out, and he compromises with himself for -the mental reservation by the argument that if he were out of it -altogether, his usefulness and occupation, like Othello's, would be -gone. That's the way clergymen must have to argue nowadays, or there -wouldn't be many of them left at the old stands." - -Though he spoke colloquially, and with an assurance which dispensed -with reverence of treatment, Paul intended to express genuine interest -and even sympathy. Knowing that his father's ideas on religious -subjects were fundamentally liberal, perhaps he was not averse to -shocking him in a mere matter of form. Mr. Howard was silent a moment, -then replied: - -"In every walk of life it is necessary, from time to time, to sacrifice -non-essentials for the sake of the essentials. As in everything else, -so in religion. The world moves; opinions change. Human society -cannot prosper without religion, and human society never needed its -influence more than to-day. Sensible religion, of course." - -"All sensible men have the same religion. What is that? A sensible -man never tells." Paul was quoting. He had heard his father more than -once in his comments on the mysteries of life utter this Delphic -observation. He laughed sweetly and fearlessly. - -Mr. Howard understood his son. They were good comrades. He was aware -that though Paul felt free to jest at his remarks, his boy respected -his intellect and would ponder what he said. - -"We agree about these things in the main, my dear Paul. If one were to -go out on the housetops and proclaim one's scepticism concerning some -of the supernatural dogmas which the mass of the people find comfort -in, how would it benefit religion? The world will find out soon enough -that it has been mistaken. But we can neither of us afford to forget -that the security of human society is dependent on religion. One -always comes back to that in the end." - -"It is good for the masses," said Paul, with a chuckle. "We, as the -present lords of creation--captains of industry--should encourage it -for the protection of our railroads, mines, and other glorious -monopolies. That is one of the arguments with which the truly great -salved their consciences before the French revolution." - -Mr. Howard frowned slightly. He knew that Paul was only half in -earnest, but the reference to socialism was repellent to him, even -though it was rhetorical. Why was he the possessor of twenty millions? -Because he had been wiser and more long-sighted than his competitors, -because he had used his clear brains to better advantage than other men -year after year, planning boldly and executing thoroughly, making few -mistakes and taking advantage of every opportunity. Because he had -fostered his powers, and controlled his weaknesses. He was rich -because, like a true American, he had conquered circumstances and -moulded them for his own and the world's profit. Inequalities? Must -there not always be inequalities so long as some men were strong and -others weak, some courageous and others shiftless? And as for charity, -God knew he was willing to do--was trying to do his part to help those -who could not or would not help themselves, and to encourage all -meritorious undertakings for the relief of human society. - -"Yes, we must humor the masses in this as in a thousand matters, and -our protection is their protection. I am not disturbed by your -insinuation, Paul. Ignorance and sloth and folly and false sentiment -would bankrupt mankind in three generations if it were not for the -modern captains of industry, as you call them." - -Mr. Howard spoke somewhat sternly, as one stating a proposition which -was irrefutable and yet was sometimes overlooked by an ungrateful -world. "Similarly," he continued, "it is one thing to be unorthodox in -one's opinions and to discard as childish articles of faith to which -the multitude adhere, another to deny the reality and force of -religion. So, though I am a free thinker, if you will, I regard it as -no inconsistency to uphold the hands of the church. On the contrary, -every thoughtful man must realize that without religion of some sort -the human race would become brutes again." - -"And your form is to present fifty or a hundred thousand to a hospital -or a college whenever you happen to feel like it, which every clergyman -will admit to be practical Christianity. You certainly give away -barrels of money, father." - -"I can afford to." Mr. Howard was pleasantly but not vain-gloriously -aware that he had given away a million dollars in the last three years. -"In what better way can I share my profits with the public than by -entrusting it to trained educators and philanthropists to spend for the -common good? A great improvement, young man, on the theory that every -man jack of us should be limited to the same wage, and originality, -grit, and enterprise be pushed off the face of the earth." - -"Nevertheless it is tolerably pleasant to be your son," said Paul, -smiling brightly from his post against the mantel-piece. - -"Yes. But you have responsibilities as my son, and pray do not imagine -that I am blind to them. I have made the money." He paused a moment, -for he was looking back along the vista of the years and recalling the -succession of shrewd undertakings by which his property had grown from -a few thousand dollars to imposing wealth. "I have made the money, and -it is for you to keep and increase it--yes, increase it, remember--but -to spend it freely and wisely. And if you ask me what is wisely, I can -only answer that this is a problem for your generation. If you will -only use the same pains in trying to solve it as I have in accumulating -the money, you will succeed. You are fond, Paul, of exploiting radical -propositions, of which you at heart disapprove, in order to test my -self-control. Here is something, young man, to chasten your spirit and -keep your imagination busy." - -"You see through me, father, don't you? But you'll admit that my -familiarity with radical doctrines is a good sign, especially since I -recognize their fallacies, for it shows that I sometimes think. Yes, -it is a great responsibility, but I wouldn't exchange--not even with -Gordon Perry." - -"With whom? Ah, yes, I remember; the attorney who was on the foot-ball -team with you at Harvard. And why should you consider changing places -with him?" - -"Because the mere question of dollars and cents interests him so -little." - -"Ah! You have been employing him lately, I believe?" - -"Yes. I like to throw what I can in his way. He understands his -business. We lunched together this morning. I enjoy his humor, his -independence and his common sense, and at the same time his enthusiasm." - -"Concerning what?" - -"Most things except the price of railroad shares and the condition of -the money market. We didn't refer to them once." Paul paused with a -serio-comic sigh. Mr. Howard knocked the white ash from his cigar and -responded: - -"One of the reasons for sending you to college was that you need not be -confined in your conversation to the money market. Another that you -should be free in life to do as you chose." - -"Don't be alarmed, father. You know well enough that nothing would -induce me not to follow your lead. Give up business? I couldn't. I -love the power and excitement of it. It's bred in the bone, I suppose." - -The banker's eyes kindled with pride in the son of his heart. - -"And it's because I know I'm myself that a fellow like Don Perry -fascinates me," pursued Paul. "There's no nonsense in him. He objects -to cranks and mere psalm-singers as much as I do. But he's absorbed in -the social problems of the day--legislative questions, philanthropic -questions, all the burning questions. 'And your young men shall see -visions.' He is one of them. You will notice that I have not -forgotten my Bible altogether, father." - -"We have, and to burn, reformers who see visions and proclaim them from -platforms which have no underpinnings. What we need are reformers who -will study and think before they speak, and not seek to destroy the -existing structure of society before they have provided a serviceable -substitute." - -"In other words, you are prepared to part with a portion of your -worldly possessions, but you object to wholesale confiscation?" Having -indulged in this pleasantry Paul took from the table a packet of papers -which he had brought with him, as though to show that he had not -forgotten business concerns. "Speaking of the existing structure of -society," he continued, "Don and I got into a religious discussion. -That is, I found myself holding a brief for the proposition, which I -had read somewhere or other, that religion and capital are in alliance -against every-day men and women, in order to preserve existing social -conditions. Don't look so shocked, father. There are two sides to -every question, and I was curious to see how Don would look at this." - -"And how did he look at it?" inquired Mr. Howard, coldly, seeing that -he was expected to display interest. - -"He wouldn't deny that there was some truth in the proposition, but he -agreed with you, father, that whatever else is true or false, the world -will never be able to dispense with religion. But he says, too, that -it must be sensible religion. Just what you said, isn't it? And when -two such intelligent individuals come to the same conclusion, it is -time for a sceptic like myself to take off his hat to the church. You -heard me just now concede that the Rev. Mr. Prentiss is not at all a -bad lot." - -"Paul, you are sometimes incorrigible. You have common sense when it -comes to action, I admit, but you have a perverse fondness for -harboring all the philosophical sewage of the age. I trust that your -friend Perry brought you up with a round turn." - -"Oh, he did," said Paul, with mock meekness, as he sorted his -documents. "We must get to work or else I'd tell you about it. He was -very interesting. As to aggregations of capital, Don was highly -conservative too. He recognizes that they will last far beyond our -time. For a seeker after ultimate truth, I thought that extremely -reasonable." Whereupon Paul indulged in a laugh of bubbling, melodious -mirth. - -Mr. Howard made no comment, but threw the butt of his cigar into the -fire-place with the emphasis of one expelling folly by the scruff of -the neck, and composed his features for business. - - - - -X - -Constance consented to be taught typewriting and stenography at the -expense of Mrs. Randolph Wilson. She decided that to refuse an offer -which would enable her presently to become self-supporting would be -false pride. She acknowledged as sound, under her present -circumstances, Mr. Prentiss's assertion that it was no less the duty of -the unfortunate to accept bounty within proper limits than of the -prosperous to give. She consented also at his instance to call upon -her benefactress. - -Any encouragement on the part of Constance would have induced Mr. -Prentiss to raise a subscription to pay off the second mortgage on the -house incurred by Emil, and thus provide her with a home. But at the -first hint of such a thing she shook her head decisively. A very -different thought was in her mind. Emil was still alive and liable for -the bills which he had incurred for the expenses of the canvass, but -she felt that the six hundred dollars which he had withheld from his -client as an enforced loan must be paid at once or the good name of her -children would be tarnished. His appropriation of this money on the -eve of his disappearance was damning in its suggestion; but she had -thankfully adopted and was clinging tenaciously to the explanation -proffered by one of the easy-going and good-natured co-tenants of the -office occupied by her husband, that the money had been borrowed to -carry out a speculation, and that Emil had meant to return it. Did not -the broker's report of the purchase and sale, found among the papers in -Emil's desk, support this? She realized fully that from the mere -stand-point of legal responsibility his motive was immaterial. But -with her knowledge of his characteristics and of the past she felt that -she had the right to insist on the theory that he had been led astray -by sanguine anticipations which, as usual, had been disappointed. His -conduct had been weak and miserable, and exposed him to obloquy, but it -was not the same as deliberate theft. As a mother, she was solicitous -to treat the transaction as a loan and to repay it without delay. The -world might not discriminate, but for herself and for the children the -distinction was essential. - -Having been informed how matters stood, and that there was probably -still some small value left in the house over and above the two -mortgages, she thought she saw an opportunity to discharge this vital -obligation. Accordingly, when she found that the clergyman was still -considering means for rescuing her home, she disclosed her theory and -her purpose. - -"My husband borrowed that money, Mr. Prentiss. He expected to be able -to return it. I am sure of this. It was just like him. People think -it was something worse because of what was in the newspapers. But, -guilty as he was, he would not have done that. This being so, I am -anxious to have the mortgages foreclosed, or whatever is necessary -done, and to have what is left returned to the woman whose money he -borrowed. It was six hundred dollars, and there is the interest. You -told me you thought there would be over five hundred left, if the -mortgagee was disposed to be reasonable." - -Although Mr. Prentiss may have had doubts whether Emil Stuart was -entitled to the distinction drawn by his wife, he understood and -admired her solicitude. "I see," he said. "I am told that the value -of real estate in the neighborhood of your house has improved somewhat, -and that you ought to get at least five hundred dollars. But in any -event the money which your husband borrowed shall be returned. You -need give yourself no further concern as to this; I will see that it is -done." - -Constance shook her head again. "It wouldn't be the same if anyone -else were to pay it," she said directly. - -"So it would not. You are right," he replied with equal promptness, -admitting the accuracy of her perception, which had confounded his too -glib generosity. "Unless you paid it, you would feel that you had no -right to consider that the money had been borrowed." - -"Though I am certain of it." - -"Precisely--precisely. I understood what you desired, and it was -unintelligent of me to bungle." A confession of lack of intelligence -by Mr. Prentiss signified not merely deliberate self-mortification, but -was offered as a tribute to the mental quality of his visitor. He had -chosen a word which would have been wasted on or misinterpreted by the -ordinary applicant for counsel, that he might let her perceive that he -was alive to the nicety of her spiritual intuitions. They were at his -house--in his comfortable, attractive library--and he understood now -that the object of her call had been conscientious eagerness to -discharge this debt. There was nothing for him to do but acquiesce in -her requirements, and to thank God for this manifestation of grace. -This quiet, simple directness, which separated the right from the wrong -with unswerving precision, proceeding from the lips and eyes of this -pale but interesting woman in faded garb, was fresh and invigorating -testimony to the vitality of the human soul exposed to the stress of -sordid, workaday realities and unassisted by the choicer blessings of -civilization. - -Mr. Prentiss pressed her hand with a new warmth as he bade her good-by. -"You must come to see me often," he said. "Not for your needs only, -but for mine. It helps me to talk with you. And I shall keep my eye -on you and see that you get work." - -As the upshot of this conversation, Constance surrendered her house to -the mortgagee and received six hundred and fifty dollars for her -interest in the equity. The small sum remaining after the claim of -Emil's client had been satisfied was supplemented presently by the sale -of that portion of the furniture unavailable in the tenement into which -she moved, so that she had about a hundred dollars saved from the wreck -of her former fortunes. The tenement consisted of two sunny rooms in a -new apartment house for people of humble means, built by a real estate -investor with progressive business instincts from plans suggested by -the Home Beautifying Society of Benham, an aggregation of philanthropic -spirits, of which Mrs. Wilson was one of the vice-presidents. Here -light, the opportunity for cleanliness, and some modern fixtures, -including a fire-escape, were obtainable at a moderate rental; and -while the small suites were monotonous from their number and -uniformity, their occupants could fitly regard them as a paradise -compared with the old-fashioned homes for the poor supervised solely by -the dull mercy of unenlightened landlords. Though this was a business -enterprise, the owner had felt at liberty even to give some artistic -touches to the exterior, and altogether it could be said that the -investment represented a model hive of modern workingmen's homes from -the point of view of Benham's, and hence American philanthropic -commercial aspiration. The structure--Lincoln Chambers, it was -called--was on the confines of the poorer section of the city where, -owing to the spread of trade, the expansion of the homes of the people -was forced further to the south. From two of her windows Constance -looked out on vacant lands but half redeemed from the grasp of nature, -a prospect littered with the unsightly disorder of a neighborhood in -the throes of confiscation by a metropolis; but the mongrel character -of the vicinity was to her more than atoned for by the fresh air and -the wide expanse of horizon. Her home was on the eighth story--there -were ten stories in all--and on the roof there was an arrangement of -space for drying clothes which seemed to bring her much closer to the -impenetrable blue of the sky. As under the influence of this communion -she gave rein to introspection and fancy, her thoughts harbored for the -moment chiefly thankfulness. The stress of her plight had been -relieved. Discriminating kindness had enabled her to get a fresh hold -on life without loss of her self-respect. What mattered it that her -social lot must be obscure, and that she had become one of the -undistinguishable many whose identity was lost in this towering -combination of small and uniform tenements? She had still a roof over -her children's heads and a legitimate prospect of being able to support -them without accepting the bitter bread of charity. Yes, she had -become one of the humblest of human strugglers, but her abounding -interest in these two dear possessions made not only her duty plain but -her opportunity inspiring and almost golden. The mortification and -anguish of the past she would never be able to forget entirely, but she -would make the most of this new chance for world-service and happiness. - -It had been necessary to sign some papers in order to convey her -interest in the equity of her house, and she went for the purpose to -the office of the mortgagee's lawyer. He was a young man, somewhat -over thirty, with a noticeably frank face and lucid utterance and kind, -intelligent eyes. As he handed her the six hundred and fifty dollars -it occurred to her that she would like to employ him to satisfy Emil's -obligation. She preferred not to have a personal interview with the -creditor lest she be obliged to listen to recriminations against her -husband, and she was loth to bother Mr. Prentiss. So she broached the -matter, stating briefly that it was a debt which her husband had -intended to pay before his departure. She had already discovered when -the papers were signed that the attorney was aware that she had been -deserted, and neither did she supply nor did he seek enlightenment -beyond the bare explanation offered. Nevertheless, it was obvious to -Constance, despite his professional reserve, that he was alive to the -import of the transaction for which she was employing him, and that it -had inspired in him more than a mere business interest. There was a -gentle deference in his manner which seemed to suggest that he knew he -was charged with a delicate mission and that he would fulfil it -scrupulously. She liked the straightforward simplicity of his address, -which was both emphasized and illuminated by the intelligent, amiable -glint of his eyes which indicated independence and humor, as well as -probity. As she rose to go, Constance realized that she had forgotten -his name, and was on the point of opening the receipt for the money -which he had given her, in order to ascertain it, when he reached out -and taking some cards from one of the pigeon-holes of his desk handed -them to her. - -"I shall write to you the result of my interview, Mrs. Stuart, and send -you a written discharge. Here are a few of my business cards. I hope -that none of your neighbors will need the assistance of a lawyer, but -if they do, that is my profession, and I intend to do the best I can -for my clients." - -There was a pleasant earnestness in his tone which saved his speech -from the effect of mere solicitation. It seemed to Constance as though -he had said not merely that he was eager to get on, but that he stood -ready to help those who like herself had need to bring their small -affairs to a sympathetic and upright counsellor. She had asked him -previously what his charge would be for securing a release of the claim -against Emil. He had hesitated for a moment and she had been -apprehensive lest he might say that it would be nothing, but he had -replied that it would be three dollars. - -She glanced at the cards and read the name--Gordon Perry, Attorney and -Counsellor-at-Law, 144 Baker St. Their interview had been in an inner -office--a room of moderate size, near the roof of a modern building, -with a fine view, eclipsing that of her own flat, and furnished, -besides a couple of chairs, with rows of law books and a few large -photographs of legal celebrities. On the way out she passed through -the general office, where there were more chairs, several of them -occupied by visitors who had been waiting for her interview to come to -an end, more shelves of books, and two or three desks, at one of which -a woman type-writer was sitting at work. The click of the machine -sounded melodiously in Constance's ears, and she turned her glance in -that direction, in wistful anticipation of the time when she would have -similar employment. On her arrival her gaze had been introspective, -but now that her errand was over she felt the inclination to observe -external things. As she closed the outer door she saw that the glass -panel bore a painted inscription similar to that of the card--Gordon -Perry, Attorney and Counsellor-at-Law. She reflected that he had been -courteous and sympathetic to her, and she felt sure that he was to be -trusted, notwithstanding the rude shock which Emil's perfidy had given -to her faith in her own powers of discrimination. There are some -dispositions which are turned to gall and forever charged with -suspicion by a great shock to love and faith as sweet milk turns to -vinegar at the clap of a thunder-storm. There are others whose horizon -is cleared by the bitterness of the blow, and who, partly from -humility, partly from an instinctive revolt against the doctrine of -despair, readjust their perspectives and harbor still the god-like -belief that they can know good from evil. - -Preliminary to beginning her lessons, Constance had still her call to -make on Mrs. Wilson. The new fashionable quarter of Benham, beyond the -river Nye, was scarcely more than a name to her, though, especially in -the early days of her marriage, she had from time to time included this -in her Sabbath saunterings with her husband, and she remembered Emil's -having pointed out in terms of irony the twin mansions of Mr. Carleton -Howard and his sister in process of erection. She had not felt -envious, but when Emil, after inveighing against the extravagance of -millionaires, had with characteristic inconsistency, as they stood -gazing at the walls of these modern palaces, asserted that he intended -some day to have a house of this kind, she had wondered what it would -be like, and had contrasted for a moment the lives of the dwellers in -this locality with her own, with a sudden appreciation of the power of -material circumstances and a wistful curiosity to be translated into an -experience which should include white-aproned maids, drawing-room -draperies, and a private equipage as daily accessories. She had -silently wondered, too, pondering without abetting her husband's -caustic cue, how this contrast was to be reconciled with what she had -been taught of American notions of social uniformity and the -subordination of the unnecessary vanities and splendor of life to -spiritual considerations. It was puzzling, and yet the manifestations -of these discrepancies were apparently in good repute and becoming more -obvious as the city grew in population and importance. - -It is the personal equation in this world which forces truths most -clearly upon our attention. So it was that Constance on her way to -Mrs. Wilson's was fully alive to the fact--not bitterly, but -philosophically and equably--that, despite the theory of democratic -social institutions which she had imbibed, actual conditions in Benham -were repeating the old-world distinctions between the powerful and the -lowly, the rich and the impecunious. There was no blinking the -knowledge that she was living obscurely in a flat on the lookout for -the bare necessaries of existence, while the woman she was going to see -was a woman of wealth and importance, to whom she was beholden for the -opportunity of a new start. Obviously, the American experiment had not -succeeded in doing away with the distinctions between rich and poor, -though patriotic school-books had given her to understand that there -were none, or rather that such as existed were spiritual and in favor -of people of humble means. Constance could be sardonic if she chose, -but like most women she had little taste for irony. On the other hand, -she had a yearning to see things clearly which her misfortunes had only -served to intensify. - -As she entered Mrs. Wilson's house a new emotion superseded this -consciousness of contrast. She had expected to be somewhat edified by -the decorations and upholsteries, and had felt a mild curiosity -regarding them. But she was wholly unprepared for the superb and -spacious surroundings in which she found herself. She walked -bewildered through the august hall behind the solemn, fastidious -man-servant, who, when she had disclosed her name and errand, ushered -her into the reception-room, which served as an ante-chamber to the -vista of elegant connecting drawing-rooms. While she waited for Mrs. -Wilson she sat gazing with surprise and admiration at the costly and -elaborate furnishings and ornaments. It was not that such things were -beyond the experience of her imagination at least, for, though she had -never been abroad, she felt familiar, through books, with the -appearance of splendid houses. She had seen pictures of them, and was -not without definite impressions of grandeur. But she had not expected -to behold them realized in the social life of Benham. If the discovery -was, spiritually speaking, a slight shock, it was a far greater source -of delight. Neat as wax herself, but confined both by poverty and -early associations to sober hues, she found in the close presence of -these bright, seductive, and artistic effects a sort of revelation of -the power of beauty which thrilled her deliciously. Here was the -culmination of the movement in ęsthetic expression of which, as -revealed in shop windows and on women's backs, she had for some time -been vaguely aware, but in which she had been forbidden by the rigor of -her life to participate. The full meaning of this as an ally to human -happiness now burst upon her, and gave her a new joy, though it -emphasized the lowliness of her own station. - -The aspect and greeting of Mrs. Wilson gave the crowning touch to her -pleasure by adding the human complement to the situation. She was -facing a smiling, gracious personality whose features, bearing, and -gown alike were fascinating and distinguished. Constance felt no -inclination to be obsequious. Her native birthright of unconscious -ease stood her in good stead. At the same time she desired to appear -grateful. She had come to thank the lady of the house, and it was -obvious that the lady of the house was a superior individual. What a -melodious voice she had, and what a pretty dress! How becoming her -crinkly, grizzled hair! What an interesting expression, what a -sympathetic light in her eyes! Constance noted these points with -womanlike avidity during their interchange of greetings. Mrs. Wilson -asked her to sit down. - -"I have heard all about you from Mr. Prentiss, Mrs. Stuart," she said, -evidently intending by this comprehensive remark to obviate for her -visitor the necessity of recurring to a painful past. "He tells me -that you have shown great courage. He tells me also that you have left -your house and moved into Lincoln Chambers--the new dormitory built -under the supervision of our Home Beautifying Society." - -"Yes; it is very comfortable. We get a glimpse of the country from our -windows." - -"I know. That is a conspicuous factor in its favor. Light and fresh -air, good plumbing, pure milk, a regular, even though small, supply of -ice--these are some of the invaluable aids to health and happiness for -all of us, and especially for those upon whom the stress of life falls -most heavily. You can command all of these where you are. You have -two children, I believe?" - -"Yes. A boy of seven and a girl of six." - -"They will be a great comfort to you." - -"I do not know what I should have done without them." - -The pride of maternity encouraged by courtesy drew from Constance this -simple avowal of the heart. Though she was not unconscious that Mrs. -Wilson's friendliness was imbued with patronage, it was sweet to open -her heart for a moment to another woman--and to a woman like this. - -"And you have planned to pursue type-writing as an occupation?" - -"Yes; I begin my lessons to-morrow, owing to you. I came to thank you -for your generosity. It was----" - -"I understand. I am very glad that there was something I could do for -you. I was interested when Mr. Prentiss spoke to me concerning your -necessities and your zeal; I am even more interested now that we have -met. I am told by those best informed that there is steady employment -for accomplished stenographers. It may be that my own private -secretary--a woman who, like yourself, had her own way to make--will be -able to send for you presently. My daughter is to be married before -long, and there will be errands to be run and things to be done -down-town and in the house, if you would not object to making yourself -generally useful." - -"I shall be grateful for any employment which you can give me." - -"I shall remember." Mrs. Wilson smiled sweetly. She had felt her way -decorously, but was pleased to find an absence of false pride in her -visitor, who was obviously a gentle woman, though lacking the -advantages of wardrobe and social prestige--as she reflected, a sort of -Burne-Jones type of severe ęstheticism, with a common-sense -individuality of her own, and an agreeable voice. "It will be a little -discouraging at first, I dare say, until you acquire facility in your -work; but I feel certain that in a short time you will be not only -self-supporting but happy. A woman with two young children can really -live on very little if she is provident and discerning. It is the man -who eats. Have you ever studied the comparative nutritive properties -of foods?" - -Constance shook her head. - -"I will send you a little pamphlet in regard to this. Many Americans -eat more meat than they require; more Americans are wasteful, and -ignorant of food values. Housewives of moderate means who approach -this subject in a serious spirit can learn how to nourish adequately -the human body at a far less cost than their unenlightened sisters. -Cereals, macaroni, milk, bread and butter, cheese--they are all -nutritive and easy to prepare. If I may say so, you appear to me just -the woman to appreciate these modern scientific truths, and to make the -most of them." - -It seemed to Constance that she had never heard anyone speak more -alluringly. What was said interested her, and she was pleased by the -flattering personal allusion at the close, but every other effect was -subordinated for her at the moment to the charm of expression, or, -indeed, to Mrs. Wilson's whole magnetic personality as shown in looks -and words. She had never before come in personal contact with anything -just like it, and it fascinated her. An admiration of this sort would -have promptly generated envy and dislike in some women, but in -Constance it awoke interest and ambition. Although she felt that she -had stayed long enough, she was loth to go, so absorbed was she by the -consummate graciousness and sympathetic fluency, by the effective gown -and elegant personal details of her hostess. She rose at last, and, -impelled to make some acknowledgment of her emotions, said, wistfully, -yet in nowise abashed: - -"What a beautiful house this is! I have never seen anything like it -before. It must be a great pleasure to live here." - -The frank artlessness of this tribute was grateful to Mrs. Wilson. -"Yes, we think it beautiful. We have tried to make it so. Would you -like to walk through some of the other rooms?" - -Constance was glad to accept this invitation. As they proceeded Mrs. -Wilson let the apartments speak for themselves, adding only an -occasional phrase of enlightenment. She was pleased with her visitor, -and divined that words were not needful to produce the proper -impression. Constance walked as in a trance, admiring unreservedly in -thought the splendor, elegance, and diversity of the upholsteries and -decoration, admiring also the graceful magnetic woman beside her whose -every gesture and intonation seemed attuned to the exquisite -surroundings. As they parted Constance said: - -"This has been a great pleasure to me." She added, "I had no idea that -people here--in this country--had such beautiful homes, such beautiful -things." - -There was no repugnance in the confession, but a mere statement of fact -which suggested satisfaction rather than umbrage at the discovery, -although the ethical doubt of the relevancy of these splendors to -American ideals was a part of her sub-consciousness. Mrs. Wilson's -response gave the finishing touch to this passive doubt. That lady had -recognized that she was not dealing with dross but a sensitive human -soul, and had refrained from didactic utterances. Yet she felt it her -duty, or rather her duty and her mission combined, to take advantage of -this opportunity to sow the seed of culture in this rich but unploughed -soil by a deft and genuine illustration. - -"The spirit which has accomplished what you see here can be introduced -into any home, Mrs. Stuart, and work marvels in the cause of beauty, -health, and decency," she said with incisive sweetness, her head a -little on one side. "Because one is poor it is not necessary to have -or foster ugly, inartistic, and sordid surroundings. A little thought, -a little reverence for ęsthetic truth will not enable those of -restricted means to live in luxury, but it will serve to keep beauty -enshrined in the hearts of the humblest household--beauty and her -hand-maidens, cleanliness, hygiene, and that subtle sense of the -eternal fitness of things which neither neglects to use nor -irreligiously mismates God's glorious colors. We as a people have been -loth to recognize the value of artistic merit as an element of the -highest civilization. Until recently we have been content to cultivate -morality at the expense of ęsthetic feeling, and have only just begun -to realize that that type of virtue which disdains or is indifferent to -beauty is like salt without savor. There is no reason why in its way -your home--your apartment--should not be as faithful to the spirit of -beauty as mine. Do you understand me? Do I make myself clear?" Her -mobile face was vibrant with the ardor of proselytism. - -Constance looked at her eagerly. "I think I understand," she said. -"But," she added, "I might not have understood unless I had seen this -house--unless I had seen and talked with you." She paused an instant, -for the vision of her own tenement as a thing of beauty, alluring as -was the opportunity, had to run the gauntlet of her common sense. Then -she asked a practical question. "If one had aptitude and experience, I -can see that much might be accomplished. But how is one with neither -to be sure of being right?" - -Conscious of these honest, thoughtful eyes--eyes, too, in which she -felt that she discerned latent charming possibilities--Mrs. Wilson had -an inspiration which satisfied herself fully as she thought of it later. - -"There is often the great difficulty--also the obstacle to those who -labor in that vineyard. But in your case I am sure that you have only -to search your own heart in order to find the spirit of beauty. After -all, the artistic sense is fundamentally largely a matter of character." - -Constance went on her way with winged feet. She felt uplifted by the -interview. Her starved senses had been refreshed, and her imagination -imbued with a new outlook on life, which though foreign, if not -inimical, to some of her past associations, she already perceived to be -vital and stimulating. - - - - -XI - -Three months later, on a rare day in early June, Miss Lucille Wilson -was made Mrs. Clarence Waldo, in the presence of a fashionable company. -Journalistic social tittle-tattle had engendered such lively public -interest that the neighborhood of St. Stephen's was beset by a throng -of sight-seers--chiefly random women--who for two hours previous to the -ceremony occupied the adjacent sidewalks and every spot which would -command a glimpse of the bride and guests. A force of policemen -guarded the church against the incursion of the multitude. Yet perhaps -the patient waiters felt rewarded for their pains, inasmuch as the -heroine of the occasion, after alighting from her carriage, stood for -an instant at the entrance to the canopy before proceeding, as though -she were willing to give the world a brief opportunity to behold her -loveliness and grandeur. For those with pocket cameras there was time -enough for a snap-shot before she was lost to sight. - -Within the church were gay silks and nodding bonnet plumes and imposing -formalities. Six maids, each wearing as a memento an exquisite locket -encrusted with diamonds, and six ushers with scarf-pins of a pearl set -in a circle of tiny rubies, escorted the bride to the altar, where the -Rev. Mr. Prentiss and two assistant priests were in attendance. When -the happy pair had been made man and wife a choir of expensive voices -chanted melodiously "O Perfect Love," and the procession streamed down -the aisle on its way to the wedding-breakfast. This was served by a -New York caterer on little tables with all the gorgeous nicety of which -he was capable. Though June is a month when most delicious things are -to be had, an effort had evidently been made to procure delicacies -which were not in season. The effect of a jam of guests elbowing for -their food, as is usual on such occasions, would have lacerated Mrs. -Wilson's sensibilities. Her house was large, so she had been able to -invite her entire social acquaintance without crowding her rooms, and -her instructions had been that there should be numerous deft waiters in -order that each guest might come under the benign influence of personal -supervision. Accordingly everyone was pleased and in good spirits -unless it were the bridegroom, and the doubt in his case was suggested -only by the impassiveness of his countenance at a time when it should -properly have been the mirror of his heart's joy. Perhaps he had not -fully recovered from the farewell dinner given him by his stag friends, -as newspaper women are apt to designate a bachelor's intimates, where -he had seen fit to express his emotion by drinking champagne to the -point when he became musically mellow, a curious and singularly -Anglo-Saxon prelude to the holy rite of matrimony. Nevertheless, he -was dignified if unemotional; and his frock coat, built for the -occasion, his creased trousers, and mouse-colored spats were -irreproachable. - -When the hour came for the bride and groom to depart there were so many -sight-seers about the door that the police had to keep the public at -bay in order to afford the happy pair a clear passage to the carriage; -and also to give the blithe young men and women ample scope for the -discharge of the rice and slippers which convention prescribes shall be -hurled at those who set forth on their honeymoon in the blaze of social -distinction. For a moment the fun was furious, and, the contagion -spreading to the spectators, a cheer partly of sympathy, partly of -derision broke forth as the spirited horses, bewildered by the shower -of missiles, bounded away toward the station. Two hatless, exhilarated -youths chased the retreating victims down the street, one of whom -skilfully threw an old shoe so that it remained on the top of the -vehicle. When the young couple entered the special Pullman car -reserved for them the newsboys were already offering papers containing -full accounts of the wedding ceremony, including a list of the guests -and of the presents with their donors, large pictures of the bride and -groom, and diverse cuts reproductive of the salient features of what -one of the scribes designated as the most imposing nuptials in Benham's -social history. - -And so they were married. And sorry as she was to lose her daughter, -Mrs. Wilson was thankful to have it all over, and to be able to settle -down once more and unreservedly to the schemes for social regeneration -which had shared with maternal affection the energies of her adult -mind. To a certain extent these interests had been rivals, -unconsciously and involuntarily so, but it has already been intimated -that Lucille was not the kind of girl her mother had intended her to -be, and lacked the sympathies which might have made Mrs. Wilson's -interests virtually one. To give Lucille all which a modern parent -could give and to see her happily married had been her paramount -thought. This was now accomplished. The child had received every -advantage which wealth could supply, and every stimulus which her own -intelligence could suggest. Lucille had not chosen the husband she -would have picked out for her. Still Lucille loved him, and since fate -had so ordained it, and they had become husband and wife, she was -determined to be pleased, and she felt in a measure relieved. The main -responsibility was at an end, and she could now enjoy her daughter's -married state, and was free to give almost undivided thought to her -social responsibilities. - -Accordingly on the days which followed the wedding Mrs. Wilson shut -herself up in her study, and with the aid of her private secretary -proceeded to dispose of her accumulated correspondence, and to put her -personal affairs to rights. June was the fag end of the social year. -Many of those who had been energetic in social enterprises since the -autumn were now a little jaded and on the eve of departure for the -country, the Lakes, the Atlantic coast or Europe, in search of that -respite from the full pressure of modern life which all who can afford -it in our large cities now endeavor to procure for themselves. -Nevertheless it was the best time to look the field over and to sow the -seeds of new undertakings by broaching them to those whose support she -desired by a short note of suggestion which could be mulled over during -the summer. It was not the season to extract definite promises from -allies or to enlist new recruits, but essentially that for exploiting -ideas which might bear fruit later when the brains and sensibilities of -Benham's best element had been rested and refreshed. Mrs. Wilson had -numerous charities, clubs in furtherance of knowledge and classes -promoting hygienic or ęsthetic development to be pondered. For some of -these--the struggling annual charities--methods like a fair or -theatricals must be devised in order to raise fresh annual funds. The -progressive courses of the past winter, such as the practical talks to -young mothers, with live babies as object-lessons, and lectures on the -relaxation of the muscles, must be superseded by others no less -instructive and alluring. Then again new blood must be introduced into -the various coteries which worked for the regeneration and -enlightenment of the poor to make good the losses caused by matrimony -or fickleness, and new schemes originated for retaining the attention -of the meritorious persons to be benefited. In this last connection -the idea of a course which should emphasize the importance to every -woman of learning something on which she could fall back for -self-support, suggested by Mrs. Stuart's plight, now recurred to her as -timely. And besides these public interests there were the--perhaps -more absorbing because more flattering--numerous personal demands on -her sympathies and time made by other women--women largely of her own, -but of every walk. Here it seemed to her was her most precious -vineyard, for here the opportunity was given for soul to compass soul -in an affinity which blessed both the giver and the receiver of -spiritual benefits. Sometimes the need which sought her was that of -the sinful woman, eager to rehabilitate herself. Sometimes that of the -friendless, aspiring student seeking recognition or guidance; but -oftener than any that of the blossoming maid or wife of her own class -whose yearning nature, reaching out to hers as the flower to the sun -and breeze, received the mysterious quickening which is the essence of -the higher life, and gave to her in return a love which was like sexual -passion in its ardor, but savoring only of the spirit. If she were -thus able by the unconscious gifts or grace which were in her to -relieve the necessities and attune the aspirations of these choice--and -it seemed to her that often the neediest were the choicest--natures, -was it strange that she should cherish and even cultivate this -involuntary power? Mrs. Wilson's theory in regard to this personal -influence was that it was the grateful product of her allegiance to, -and passion for, beauty so far as she could lay claim to any merit in -the matter. She accepted it as a heaven-sent and heaven-kissing gift -which was to be rejoiced in and administered as a trust. Since her -talent had turned out to be that of a leader to point the way by virtue -of sympathetic intelligence--or, to quote her own mental simile, the -electric medium which opened to eager, groping souls the realm of -spirit--was not the mission the most congenial which could have been -offered her, and in the direct line of her tastes and ambitions? -Consequently her private correspondence with those who sought counsel -and inspiration in return for adoring fealty was a labor of care as -well as of love. Just the right words must be written, and the -individual personal touch imparted to each message of criticism, -revelation, homely advice, or mere greeting. To be true to beauty and -to maintain her individuality by the free outpouring of herself from -day to day in felicitous speech of tongue and pen was her glowing task. -In the pursuance of it she had acquired mannerisms which were now a -part of herself. Her phrases of endearment, her chirography, her -note-paper, her method of signing herself, had severally a distinction -or peculiarity of their own. All this was now a second nature; but at -the outset she had been conscious of it, and, though never challenged, -she had once written in vindication in one of her heart-to-heart -missives that the mysterious forces of the universe through which God -talks with man wear not the garb of conforming plainness, but have each -its special exquisiteness; witness the moon-bathed summer night, the -mountain peak at sunrise, the lightening glare among the forest pines, -the lordly ocean in its many moods. She had a memory for birthdays and -anniversaries. In the hour of bereavement her unique words of -consolation were the first to arrive. She was prodigal of flowers, and -her proselytes, knowing her affection for the rose and the lily, were -apt to transform her study into a bower on the slightest excuse. She -never wrote without flowers within her range of vision. In the evening -of one of these days following her daughter's wedding, Mrs. Wilson was -interrupted in her correspondence by the entrance of her maid with the -bewildering news that a baby had been left on the doorsteps, and that a -woman, presumably its mother, had, in the act of stealing away after -ringing the bell, run into the arms of one of the servants, and was now -a prisoner below stairs. The maid was agitated. Should they send for -a policeman, or what was to be done? The course to adopt had not been -clear to those in authority in the kitchen, and the solution had been -left to the mistress whose eleemosynary tendencies had to be taken into -account. - -An infant, a waif of destiny, left on her doorsteps at dead of night! -There was only one thing to do, to see the baby, and to talk to the -mother, and for this purpose Mrs. Wilson had both brought before her in -the ante-room where she had received Constance Stuart. Rumor flies -fast, and by this time a burly, belted policeman had arrived on the -scene and stood towering in the background behind the quartette of -servants, the butler, the second-man, who had apprehended the woman, a -housemaid who had taken the custody of the child, and Mrs. Wilson's own -maid. Mrs. Wilson surveyed the group for an instant with the air of a -photographer in search of a correct setting. Then, with a smile of -divination, she said, authoritatively, "Now, Mary, give the child to -its mother, and when I need anyone, I will ring. You, too, Mr. -Officer, please wait outside. I am sure that this woman will tell me -her story more freely if we are alone. And, James, bring some tea--the -regular tea-service." - -[Illustration: "I am sure that this woman will tell me her story"] - -As the servants took their departure, Mrs. Wilson looked again at the -woman, whom she had already perceived to be young and good looking. -She stood holding her baby securely but not tenderly, with a -half-defiant, half-bewildered air, as of a cat at bay in strange -surroundings. But though her mien expressed a feline dismay, Mrs. -Wilson perceived that she was no desperate creature of the slums. Nor -was she flauntily dressed like the courtesan of tradition. Her -attire--a neat straw sailor hat, a well-fitting dark blue serge skirt -and serge jacket over a white shirt, and decent boots indicated some -social aptness; and her features, especially her clever and sensitive, -though somewhat hard, mouth gave the challenge of intelligence. It was -a smart face, one which suggested quick-wittedness and the habit of -self-reliance, if not self-satisfaction, to the detriment of sentiment -and delicacy. She appeared to Mrs. Wilson to be about twenty-three, -and slightly shorter than Mrs. Stuart, with a sturdier, less flexible -figure. Her hair was light brown, and her complexion fair, but she had -roving dark eyes which gave a touch of picturesqueness to what might be -called the matter-of-fact modernness of her aspect. They were curious -eyes, almost Italian in their hue and calibre, yet in repose coldly -scrutinizing and impassive. Mrs. Wilson appreciated with a sense of -relief that here was no case of sodden ignorance and degradation; for -though in such instances the remedy was more obvious, she preferred to -be brought in contact with natures which drew upon her intellectual -faculties. She believed herself modern in her sympathies, and in her -capacity as a philanthropic worker was partial to the problems with -which modern conditions and modern thought confront struggling human -nature. - -"Won't you sit down? And perhaps you would like to lay your baby on -the sofa while we talk and I make you some tea." - -The girl, who was prepared probably for a sterner method, yielded, -after a quiver of uncertainty, to the fascination of this gracious -appeal; pausing for a brief instant to examine the tiny face peering -from the folds of the knit shawl in which the child was wrapped, but -with a gaze scientific rather than maternal, as though she were seeking -to trace a likeness or some law of heredity. Then she sat down and -raised her eyes to meet her entertainer's with a glance bordering on -irony, and which seemed to ask, "Well, what are you going to do about -it?" Mrs. Wilson noticed that her hands, which lay in her lap, lightly -crossed, with the palms down, were long and efficient-looking, and that -she wore no wedding-ring. - -"Is it a boy or a girl?" Mrs. Wilson resumed, with disarming gentleness. - -"A girl." With a contraction of her mouth which began in a bitter -smile and ended against her will in a gulp, she added, "I didn't intend -to have it. I didn't want to have it. I suppose you've guessed I'm -not a married woman." - -"Yes, I guessed that. I see, too, that you are in trouble, and my sole -object in detaining you here to-night is to give you all the aid in my -power. I'm not seeking to judge or to lecture you, but to help you." - -The girl regarded her with a matter-of-fact stare, then said, bluntly, -"I'd have been all right now if your servant hadn't nabbed me." - -"You mean if you had succeeded in abandoning your child?" - -"Yes. I was earning my living before, and I could go on. I guess I -could have got back my old place." - -"But-- Do you mind telling me why you wished to abandon your baby?" - -"That's why. I've just told you. To make a fresh start." - -"I see. And it was chance, I suppose, that you left it on my -door-steps rather than elsewhere?" - -"You're Mrs. Randolph Wilson, aren't you?" - -"Yes." - -"I had read about you in the newspapers, and all about the wedding, and -that you were tremendously rich. When my child was born I hoped she'd -die; but, as she didn't, I made up my mind that the best thing I could -do was to let you look after her. But the luck was against me a second -time. I was caught again." She laughed as though her only concern was -to let fate perceive that she had some sense of humor. - -Mrs. Wilson frowned involuntarily. Yet, though her taste was offended -her curiosity was whetted. - -"But wasn't your--wasn't he man enough to look after you and provide -for the child?" - -"I didn't tell him. He doesn't know. It wasn't his fault. That -is"--she paused for a moment, but her expression suggested solicitude -lest the naked truth should be disconcerting rather than shame--"I took -the chance. Neither of us intended to be married. He travels mostly, -and is here only two or three times a year. What would he do with a -baby anyway?" - -The entrance of the butler with the tea things was opportune. It gave -Mrs. Wilson time to think. Her experience of women of this class had -been considerable. If not invariably penitent, they had always shown -shame or humble-mindedness. Here was a new specimen, degenerate and -appalling, but interesting to the imagination. - -While the servant set the glittering, dainty silver service on the -table at his mistress's side the girl watched her and him with obvious -curiosity and a mixture of disdain and fascination. Now and again her -roving eyes took in the exquisite surroundings, then reverted to the -face of her would-be benefactress as to a magnet. It seemed to be the -triumph of a desire not to appear worse than she really was which made -her speak when they were alone, and Mrs. Wilson, still in search of -inspiration, was busy with the tea-caddy. - -"I wasn't going to let her out of my sight until I knew she was safe." -She nervously compressed the back of one of her hands with the long -fingers of the other in the apparent effort to justify her course, a -consideration to which she was evidently not accustomed. "Wouldn't she -have had a better home at the expense of the State than any I could -have given her? And there was the chance you might take a fancy to her -and adopt her. She's less homely than the average new-born young one. -You see I thought everything over, lady. And next to its dying that -seemed to me the best chance it had for happiness in a best possible -world." - -"Ah, but you mustn't talk like that. It's hard, I know, egregiously -hard. But you mustn't be bitter," said Mrs. Wilson, with mandatory -kindness. - -The girl smiled in a superior fashion; it was almost a sneer. Her -desire to justify herself had been an involuntary expression. Now -vanity intervened, vanity and the pride of smouldering opinion. "I'm -not bitter; I'm only telling you the plain truth. I'm ignorant, I dare -say, compared to you; but I'm not so ignorant as you think. I've -thought for myself some; and--and all I say is that this isn't any too -good a world for a girl like me anyway, and when a girl like me goes -wrong, as you call it, and has a kid, instead of crying her eyes out -the sensible thing for her to do is to find someone to look after it -for her." - -"Which only proves, my child, that such a thing ought never to happen -to her." - -"No--not if she has luck." - -There was a brief pause; then with an impulsive glide Mrs. Wilson swept -across the room and transferred a cup of tea to the hands of this -wanderer from the fold of grace and ethics. The girl, taken off her -guard, tried to rise to receive it, and looked at her with the -half-fascinated expression of a bird struggling against the fowler. -Sitting down beside her, Mrs. Wilson took one of her hands and said, -"Do you not understand, my dear, that society must insist for its own -preservation that a woman shouldn't go wrong? The whole safety of the -family is based on that. That's the reason the world has to seem a -little cruel to those of our sex who sin against purity. Children must -know who their fathers are." She had these precepts in their modern -guise at the tip of her tongue; she hastened to add, benignly, "But -though the world in self-defence turns a cold shoulder on the unchaste -woman, for her who seeks forgiveness and a fresh start there are -helping hands and loving words which offer forbearance and counsel and -friendship." - -"But supposing I'm not seeking forgiveness? That's the trouble, lady. -If only now I were a shame-faced, contrite sinner down in the dust at -the foot of the cross asking permission to lead a new life, how much -simpler it would be for both of us!" - -Mrs. Wilson gasped. The coolness of the sacrilege disturbed her -intellectual poise. The girl might have been speaking of an invitation -to dinner instead of the redemption of her soul so casual was her -regret. "That is where you belong; that is where you must come in -order to find grace and peace," she said, in an intense whisper. - -"I've shocked you." - -"Yes, you've shocked me. But that doesn't matter. You don't realize -what you're saying. The important thing is to save you from yourself, -to cleanse the windows of your soul so that the blessed light of truth -may enter." - -The girl regarded her curiously, nervously abashed at the impetuous -kindness of this proselytism. "That's what I meant by saying I'd -thought some. If it's church doctrine you mean, you'd only be -disappointed. It may help people like you. But for the working -people--well, some of us who use our wits don't think much of it." - -Though Mrs. Wilson looked profoundly grieved, the spiritual melancholy -emanating from her willowy figure and mobile countenance was charged -with resolution as well as pity. - -"It isn't merely church doctrine that you lack. You lack the spirit of -Christian civilization. Your entire point of view is distorted. You -are blind, child, utterly blind to the eternal verities." - -The girl's dark eyes grew luminous in response to this indictment, but -a deprecating smile trembled on her lip in protest at her own -susceptibility. - -"What is it you want me to do?" she said at last. - -"To begin with, I wish you to support your child as a woman should. -You brought it into the world, and you owe to the helpless little thing -a mother's love and care. Will you tell me your name?" - -"Loretta Davis." - -"And what has been your employment?" - -"They don't know. I don't want them to know. I gave them as an excuse -that I was tired of the place." - -"I'm not asking your employer's name. What kind of work was it?" - -"I was assistant cashier in a drug store." - -"And before that?" - -"I answered the bell for a doctor." - -"I see. I don't wish to pry into your affairs; but do you belong here? -Are your parents living?" - -"I don't mind telling. There's not much to tell. My father and mother -are dead. I was born about a hundred miles from here and attended the -public school. I had my living to make, so I came to Benham about two -years ago. I had acquaintances, and was crazy to go into a store. But -a girl who came from the same town as I was going to be married, and -got me her place to look after the doctor's bell and tidy up. He was a -dentist. He lost his health and had to go to Colorado for his lungs, -and then I went to the drug store. That's all there is to tell, -lady--that is, except one thing, which doesn't count much now." - -"You might as well tell me that also." - -"Oh, well, I'd been thinking of training to be a nurse when I got into -trouble. I'd got used to doctors and medicine, and they told me I had -the sort of hands for it." She exhibited her strong, flexible fingers. -"If I had got rid of my baby, I was going to apply to a hospital. So -you see I've got some ambition, lady. I wanted to be of some use. I'm -not altogether bad." - -"No, no, I'm sure you're not. I understand perfectly. And the baby -shan't stand in the way of your making the most of yourself. I will -arrange all that." Mrs. Wilson spoke with fluent enthusiasm. She felt -that she had discovered the secret of, if not the excuse for, the -girl's callousness. Unwelcome maternity had interrupted the free play -of her individuality at the moment when she was formulating a career, -and as a modern woman herself, Mrs. Wilson understood the bitterness of -the disappointment. It gave her a cue to Loretta's perversion, so that -she no longer felt out of touch with her. She refrained from the -obvious temptation of pointing out that a nurse's best usefulness would -be to guard her tender child, and broached instead the project which -swiftly suggested itself the moment she felt that she had fathomed the -cause of the culprit's waywardness. - -"I know just the home for you; a little tenement in the Lincoln -Chambers. The rooms are savory, convenient, and attractive, and on the -opposite side of your entry lives an earnest, interesting spirit, a -woman whose husband has deserted her, left her with two children to -provide for. She will be glad to befriend you, and you will like her. -I happen to know that the tenement is vacant, and it is the very place -for you." - -Loretta had listened with sphinx-like attention. When Mrs. Wilson -paused her eyes began to make another tour of her surroundings, and at -the close of her remark ignored the theme of conversation. - -"I never was inside a multi-millionaire's house before. That's what -you are, ain't it?" - -The query was queer, but not to be evaded. "I'm a rich woman -certainly, which makes it all the easier for me to help you." If this -savored of a pauperizing line, which was contrary to Mrs. Wilson's -philanthropic principles, she felt that she must not at all hazards let -the girl slip through her fingers. - -"If I'm willing that you should." - -"Of course. But you are, I'm sure you are. You're going to trust me -and to put yourself into my hands." - -The confidence and charm of this fervor suddenly met with their reward. -Loretta had held back from genuine scruples, such as they were. -Instinctive independence and a preconceived distrust of fine ladies had -kept her muscles stiff and her face set, though she felt thrilled by a -strange and delicious music. No one could have guessed that it was -only the habit of awkwardness which restrained her from falling on her -knees in an ecstasy of self-abasement, not from an access of shame, but -as a tribute to the woman whose personality had captivated her against -her will. - -"You seem to take a heap of interest in me, don't you?" The words by -themselves suggested chiefly surprise, but the sign of her surrender -showed itself in her eyes. They were lit suddenly with an intensity -which overspread her countenance, bathing its matter-of-fact smartness -in the soft light of emotion. "I'm willing to do whatever you like," -she said. - - - - -XII - -If it be said of Gordon Perry, attorney and counsellor-at-law, that he -was loth to incur the modern epithet, "crank," it was equally true that -he had ideals and cherished them. He believed in living up to his -convictions. At the same time his sense of humor made him aware that -to dwell unduly on premeditated virtue is the prerogative of a prig, -and that it is often wise in a workaday world to yield an inch if one -would gain an ell. His form of yielding was apt to be genial, -thoughtful consideration of the other man's point of view, a virtual -admission that there were two sides to the case, instead of flying in -the face of his opponent. The modern American regards this tactful -moderation as essential to the despatch of business, and prides himself -on its possession. It is the oil of the social industrial machine. -Also it is slippery stuff. One is liable to slide yards away from -one's point of view unless one plants one's feet firmly. It is so much -easier to follow the trend than to resist it. The natural tendency of -those not very much in earnest is to woo success by dancing attendance -on the powers which are, both movements and men. So convictions become -palsied, and their owners mere puppets in the whirl of human activity. -For the sake of fortune, fame, or oftenest for the sake of our bread -and butter, we subscribe to theories and support standards which we -suspect at heart to be unsound, lest we fail to keep step with the -class to which we belong. - -How to preserve his poise as an independent character and at the same -time avoid antagonism with some of his new friends had become -interesting to Gordon Perry. He had reached a point where he had only -to be quiescent in order to reap presently a rich harvest. His -clear-headedness, his quickness, and his common sense had been -recognized, and it was in the air that he was a rising man in his -profession. People of importance had taken him up. It was known that -he had attended to certain matters for Paul Howard, from whom it was -only one step to the source of many gigantic undertakings productive of -fat fees. To the eye of shrewd observers in Benham he had only to go -on as he had been going, and attend strictly to business, in order to -emerge from the ranks of his brother lawyers, and become one of the -small group which controlled the cream of the legal business of the -city. Instead of bringing accident cases he would defend them for -powerful corporations. Instead of conducting many small proceedings at -an expense of vitality for which his clients could not afford and did -not expect to pay adequately, he would be employed by banks and trust -companies, would organize and reorganize railroads, be made the -executor of large estates and the legal adviser of capitalists in -financial schemes from which profits would accrue to him in the tens of -thousands. It ought to be comparatively plain sailing. This was -obvious to the man in question as well as to his contemporaries. He -knew that his business was growing, and sundry rumors had reached him -that he had been spoken of in inner circles as skilful and level-headed. - -To indicate the current which ran counter in Gordon Perry's thoughts to -his appreciation of these possibilities it will be necessary to refer -briefly to his past and to his mental perspective. He was the son of a -widow. Also a soldier's son. His father, a volunteer, had survived -the Civil War, and, attracted by the rising destinies of Benham, had -made his home there, only to fall victim to a fever within a year of -his coming. Gordon was then eleven years old. A policy of life -insurance kept the wolf from the door for the afflicted widow so far as -a bare subsistence was concerned. She had a small roof over her head, -and was able by means of boarders and needlework to present a decent -front to the world while she watched over her sole treasure, her only -child. Her ambition was to give him an education, and her ambition in -this respect was neither niggardly nor ignorant. He was to have the -best--a college training--and to give him this it delighted her to -pinch and to slave. When a woman's duty is squarely determined by -responsibility for a fatherless son, it is comparatively easy for her -to be true to her trust to the extent of complete devotion and -unselfishness. But devotion and unselfishness do not include wisdom. -Happy for him whose mother is a victim neither to superstition nor to -silliness, but sees life with a clear, sane outlook. Mrs. Perry was -one of those American women educated in the days of Emersonian -spirituality, when society walked in the lightest marching order as -regards material comforts and embellishments, who were austere and -sometimes narrow in their judgments, but who set before them as the one -purpose of life the development of character. She was simple, pious, -brisk, and direct; setting great store on acting and speaking to the -point, and abhorring compromise or evasions. In her religious faith -she believed, as a Unitarian, about what liberal Episcopalians and -Presbyterians believe to-day. Doctrine, however, appeared to her of -minor importance compared to the pursuit of noble aims and the practice -of self-control. She wished her son to care for the highest things, -those of the spirit and the intellect, because she regarded them with -sincerity as the passports to human progress; and, though her ęsthetic -aims were dwarfed, and human color and grandeur may have seemed to her -to smack of degeneracy, the white light of her aspirations had a -convincing beauty of its own. - -Under the influence of this training and this point of view, Gordon -went to Harvard. There he encountered a new atmosphere. The old gods -were not dead, but they seemed moribund, for there were others. The -college motto, "Veritas," still spoke the watchword of faith, yet the -language of his class-mates led him to perceive that what was the truth -was again in controversy. The Civil War was over, but the martial -spirit which had sprung into being at the call of duty and love of -country was seething in the veins of a new generation eager to rival in -activity the heroism of its fathers. It was no longer enough to walk -in contemplation beneath the college elms and develop character by -introspective struggle. Truth--the whole truth, lay not there. Was -not useful, skilful action in the world of affairs the true test of -human efficiency? A great continent lay open to ingenious youth -trained to unearth and master its secrets. How was it to be conquered -unless the spirit of energy was nourished by robust frames, unless men -were practical and competent as well as soulful? - -Gordon listened to this new note with a receptive ear, and recognized -its value. Hitherto he had thought little of his body, which, like an -excellent machine, had performed its work without calling itself to his -attention. Now he took part in college athletics, and realized the -exhilaration which proceeds from healthful competitive exercise. -Through contact with his mates, and active participation in the affairs -of the college world, he experienced also the still more satisfactory -glow, best described as the joy of life, which, partly physical, partly -athletic, had never been a portion of his consciousness. He was -drafted for the football team, and by his prowess and his pleasant, -manly style acquired popularity in the college societies, that fillip -to self-reliance and proper self-appreciation. If, as a consequence, -he relaxed somewhat his efforts to lead his class in scholarship, which -had been his sole ambition at the start, he did not forget that he was -a pensioner on his mother's self-sacrifice; and though his rank at -graduation was not in the first half-dozen, it was in the first -twenty-five, and it could be said of him that he looked fit for the -struggle of life, the possessor of a healthy mind in a well-developed -body. He was sophisticated, but his soul was untarnished by -dissipation, and the edge of his enthusiasm for enterprise and endeavor -was not dulled. Then followed three years at the law school, where in -common with nearly everyone he worked like a beaver to equip himself -for his profession. There all interests--it might be said all -emotions--were absorbed in contemplation of technical training. But he -was still under the shadow of the Harvard elms, and the great world lay -beyond, a land of mysterious promise to his eager vision. - -However clear-sighted and philosophical a college graduate, his first -actual contact with the great world is apt to be depressing. Society -seems so large and so indifferent; he is so insignificant and so -helpless--he who six months ago was a hero in the eyes of his -companions. Especially is this apt to be the case when one is -translated from the dizzy democratic heights of college renown to a -humble, humdrum social station. It was no revelation to Gordon Perry -to find himself the son of a hard-working, inconspicuous boarding-house -keeper, but it sobered him. He was neither ashamed of the fact nor -dismayed by it. On the contrary, the sight of his mother's tired face -and figure subordinated every ambition to his loving determination to -conquer the world for her sake. It seemed, however, a less simple -matter to conquer the world now that he was an unknown student in a law -office in a large city, with no family influence or powerful friends to -abet his endeavors. For the first few years his lot was so obscure -that the contrasts of life arrested his attention as they had never -done before, though as a subconsciousness, for he never outwardly -paused in his efforts to become indispensable to the firm of lawyers in -whose office he was. He beheld acquaintances in various employments, -whose mental superior he believed himself to be, put in the direct line -of preferment through pecuniary or social influence, and had to solace -himself with the doctrine--also the American doctrine--that it was -every man's privilege to make the most of his own advantages, and his -duty to acknowledge the same privilege in others. - -Some young men are made cynical by the perception of the workings of -free competition; others simply thoughtful. Gordon was among the -latter. Life presented itself to him from a new perspective, and if it -suddenly appeared both perplexing and distressing, it appeared none the -less interesting. His personal dismay, if this passing reaction -deserves so harsh a term, was transient, but it was the precursor to -graver, disinterested musings. His attention once arrested by the -inequalities of life turned further afield and became riveted by -concern and by pity. Why in this city, established under free -institutions, was it necessary that thousands should be living in -poverty, ignorance, and social ineffectiveness if not degradation? It -ought not to be. It must not be. How could it be averted? This -outburst of his protesting spirit encountered the query of his -dispassionate mind--what remedy do you suggest? It was like a douche -of cold water. Instinctively he reached out for help. He knew that he -was in search of truth this time, but he abhorred an _ignis fatuus_. -He began to ask questions and to read. There were various answers on -the lips of those whom he consulted, for the question seemed to be in -the air. Many, and there were among them some whose broad shoulders, -free carriage, and prosperously self-reliant air told of that joy in -living and practical, world-conquering serenity typical of the -successful man of the present generation, who assured him, often in a -whisper, as though it were a confidence, that these inequalities must -always exist. Were not men's abilities different, and would they not -always be so? Was it just that one man's energy and skill should be -curtailed to keep pace with another's incapacity? What would become of -human individuality and brilliancy if everyone's earning and owning -were to be circumscribed by metes and bounds, and we were all to become -commonplace, unimaginative slaves of socialism? It was right, of -course, that existing abuses in the way of long hours and insufficient -pay should be rectified. That was on the cards. In many cases it had -been already consummated. And what had malcontents or critics of the -existing industrial system to say to the long list of splendid -benefactions--free libraries, free hospitals, free parks, and free -museums--given to the community by rich men--men who had been abler and -more progressive than their fellows? Surely the world would be a dull -place without competition. - -There were others who declared that the destruction of the poor was -their poverty, and that the poor man was at fault. That if he would -let liquor alone, have fewer children, and brush his teeth regularly, -he would be happy and prosperous. They called Gordon's attention to -the many schemes for the uplifting of the industrial masses which were -already in operation in Benham, homes for abandoned children, evening -classes where instruction and diversion were skilfully blended, model -tenements, and, most modern of all, college settlements, the voluntary -transplanting of individual educated lives into social Saharas. - -The books which he read were of two classes. Their writers were either -optimistic apologists for the current ills of civilization, deploring -and deprecating their existence, and suggesting the gradual elimination -of social distress by education and intelligent humanity--"the giving -of self unreservedly," as many put it--without serious modification of -the structure of society; or they were outspoken enemies of the present -industrial status, alleging that poverty and degradation were an -inseparable incident of unchecked human competition, and that these -evils would never be eradicated until the axe was applied to the -fundamental cause. These latter critics had diverse preliminary -crucial remedies at heart, such as the capitalization of land, -government control of railroads, mines, and other sources of power, or -the appropriation to the use of the community of a slice of abnormal -profits. - -Most of this presentation, whether through men or from books, was not -new to Gordon; but it had been hitherto unheeded by him and had the -full effect of novelty. He found himself staring at a condition of -affairs which he had patriotically if carelessly supposed could not -exist in the land of the free and the home of the brave until he -suddenly opened his eyes and beheld in full operation in his native -city, of which he was becomingly proud, those grave contrasts of -station common to older civilizations. These included on the one hand -not only the uneducated army of workers in Benham's pork factories, -oil-yards, and iron mills, but an impecunious, shiftless lower class; -and on the other what was, relatively speaking, a corporal's guard of -wealthy, wideawake, luxurious, ambitious masters of the situation, to -whom he hoped presently to commend himself as a legal adviser. - -But what was the remedy? What was his remedy? In the coolness of -second thoughts, after months of ferment, he had to confess that he had -none--at least none at the moment. Simultaneously he had reached the -further conclusion, which was both a relief and a distress, that -whatever could be done must be gradual, so gradual as to be almost -imperceptible when measured by the span of a single life. He recalled, -with a new appreciation of the truth, the saying that the mills of God -grind slowly. From the vanguard hope of a complete change in current -conditions, by a series of telling blows of his own conception, he was -forced back to a modest stand behind the breast-works. Modest because -he began to examine with a new respect the philanthropic and economic -apparatus for attack already in position, which he had at first glance -been disposed to regard as too cumbersome and dilatory. Here was where -his purpose not to be quixotic and visionary came to his support. He -realized that it was necessary for him to wait and to study before he -could hope to be of service; that he must take his position in the -ranks and observe the tactics of others before attempting to assume -leadership or to initiate reforms. - -One effect of this check to his soaring aspirations at the dictate of -his common sense was to give a fresh impetus to his resolve to succeed -in his profession. For a brief period the shock of his discoveries had -been so stunning that he almost felt as though it were his duty and his -mission to devote his life to finding a remedy for the ills of -civilization. His mother's necessities stood as a bar to this. But -with the ebbing of his vision he found himself no longer beset with -doubts as to the legitimacy of his apprenticeship. It seemed to him -clearly his duty, not only on his mother's account but his own, to -throw himself into his work unreservedly with the intention of hitting -the mark. He had his bread to earn, his way to make. How would it -profit him or anyone that he should forsake his calling and stand -musing by the wayside merely because he was distressed by the -inequalities of the industrial system? Inequalities which existed all -over the world and were as old as human nature. He had no -comprehensive cure to suggest, so for the time being his lips were -sealed and his hands tied by his own ignorance. And if conscience, -borrowing from some of the books which he had read, argued that the -prosperous lawyer was the agent of the rich against the poor, the -strong against the weak, his answer was that the taunt was not true, -and his retort by way of a counter-sally was that in no country in the -world did the laboring man receive so high wages as in this. This at -least was a step forward, and so he felt justified to follow precedent -and to bide his time. - -In order to succeed a young lawyer must be ceaselessly vigilant. It is -not enough to perform faithfully what he is told. There are many who -will do this. The man who gets ahead is he who does more than the -letter of his employment demands, who anticipates instructions and -disregards time and comfort in order to follow a clue of evidence or -elucidate a principle. So he becomes indispensable, and by and by the -opportunity presents itself which the shiftless ascribe to luck. -Gordon Perry revealed this faculty of indefatigable initiative. The -firm in whose office he was a student had a large business, chiefly in -the line of commercial law. The transit of the various commodities to -which Benham owed her prosperity was necessarily productive of -considerable litigation against the railroads as common carriers and -between the shippers and consignees of wares and merchandise. Besides, -there were constant suits for personal injuries to be prosecuted or -defended, involving nice distinctions as to what is negligence, and -bringing in their train much practice for the juniors in the -investigation of testimony. From the outset Gordon worked with -unsparing enthusiasm, seeking to do the work entrusted to him so -thoroughly that those who tried the cases would find the situation -clearly defined and everything at their fingers' ends. When it was -perceived that he was not only diligent but discerning and accurate, -they began to rely on him, and by the end of three years the -responsibility of trying as well as of preparing the less important -proceedings in the lower courts became his. Also, by showing himself -solicitous regarding the affairs of the clients of the office, he was -able now and again to supply information or tide matters over when the -member of the firm inquired for was out; and it was not long before -some of them formed the habit of consulting him directly in minor -matters. When at the end of five years the senior partner, who had -independent means, retired in order to go to Congress, his two -associates came to the conclusion that it would be good policy, as well -as just, to give Perry, as the most promising young man in the office, -a small interest in the business. This promotion naturally gave him a -new status with the clients, and most of those who had been in the -habit of consulting him offhand, now laid their serious troubles before -him. So by the time he was twenty-nine he was well started in his -profession, and able to extract a promise from his mother that if he -continued to prosper for another year, she would yield to his -solicitations to give up her boarders and move into a brighter -neighborhood. - -Although absorbed in his profession, Gordon's genial charm soon brought -him invitations of a social nature. He became a member of a law club -of men of his own age, which met once a month to compare impressions -and banish dull care over a good dinner. Still eager for exercise he -joined a rowing club on the river Nye, and a gymnasium. After he was -admitted to the firm he had his name put up for election at one of the -social clubs, The University, so called because its members were -college graduates. Here he met the educated young men of the city, and -though his mother had an old-fashioned prejudice against clubs, as -aristocratic resorts where men gambled and drank more than was good for -them, Gordon felt that he needed some place where he could play a game -of whist or billiards with congenial spirits or look at magazines in a -cosey library as an antidote to his sterner pursuits. Mrs. Perry was -more than willing to trust her son, so she sighed and set down to the -changed temper of the day the spread of Benham's club fever. For, like -other progressive cities, Benham was fairly honeycombed with clubs. -The American social instinct had become almost daft on the subject, and -no two or three men or women could come together for any purpose -without organizing. From a constitution and by-laws the road was apt -to be short to rooms or a clubhouse. The University was one of half a -dozen of the purely social clubs of the city, a spacious establishment, -modelled on European traditions with American plumbing and other modern -comforts. Gordon was prompted to join by Paul Howard, who declared -that he preferred it for genuine enjoyment to the Eagle Club, the -favorite resort of the very rich and fashionable--the Spread Eagle, as -the malicious termed it. At The University there was secular -instrumental music on Sunday afternoons, a custom copied from Boston, -that former hotbed of ascetic Sabbath life, and on Saturday nights a -cold supper was provided, about which stood in pleasant groups the -active professional and business men of the city and those who followed -the arts--musicians, painters, and literary men. - -"Exclusive and aristocratic all the same," said Hall Collins, -contemptuously, one day when Gordon vouchsafed to him a glowing account -of these Saturday nights. Hall was one of the moving spirits in the -only other club of which Gordon was a member, The Citizens' Club, the -somewhat ambitious title of an organization conducted by young men -interested in civic and industrial reform, not unlike that to which the -unhappy Emil Stuart had belonged. - -"Which only shows how little you understand what we are after," was the -prompt answer. "There isn't a more truly democratic place in the -world--only we insist that a man should win his spurs before he is -entitled to consideration. A clod, while he is a clod, isn't a -gentleman, and it isn't good American doctrine to regard him as one. -No logic will make him so. You're talking through your hat, Hall, and -you know it." - -Hall grinned. It was true he was not more than half in earnest, but he -was more than half suspicious of Gordon. He could not make him out, -which nettled him, for Hall Collins liked to have men docketed in his -mind. - -"To Gehenna with your gentlemen!" he retorted. "What use are spurs to -a man who has no boots to wear them on?" - -"Hear, hear!" interjected two or three bystanders whose attention was -caught by the metaphor. - -"It strikes me, young man," pursued Collins, who had his chair tipped -back, his feet on the table and was smoking a fat cigar which one of -the aldermen had given him, appropriated by the wholesale at a city -banquet, "that you're trying to ride two horses." He was glad to have -an audience to the discussion, for he could not make up his mind that -Gordon was sincere in his interest in the Citizens' Club, and he feared -some ulterior motive, political or quasi-philanthropic. - -"Yes, that's just what I'm doing," answered Gordon. "Half of the lack -of sympathy between the educated and the uneducated, between capital -and labor, as you like to call it, lies in the imagination. What is -there incompatible in being a member of a club like this and wearing -patent-leather shoes and the latest thing in collars?" - -"It smacks too much of college settlements. It doesn't go to the root -of things." - -"But it helps just as they help, unless in the ideal democracy you are -aiming at there's to be no place for the refinements of life, for soft -speech, gentle manners, and the arts. In the millennium are we all to -be uncouth and unimaginative?" - -"Score one for the man with the patent-leather shoes, only he hasn't -got them on," exclaimed one of the listeners. - -"You're beginning at the wrong end. You put the cart before the horse; -that's the trouble with you. What's the use of decorating a house -that's going to be struck by lightning?" With all his prejudice and -homely exterior Hall Collins was at heart no demagogue or charlatan. -He was dead in earnest himself and he wished others to be. He was -conversant with the history of the development of trades-unions over -the world. He was a student of humanitarian reforms, and gave all the -time which he could spare from his occupation as a master-mason to the -furtherance of what he considered legislative progress. - -"Struck by lightning, and then there's no house, only ruins. That's -not what you desire, Hall Collins, you, I, nor anyone here. We're all -seeking the same thing, and we're all groping more or less in the -dark--putting the cart before the horse, may be. But you haven't any -panacea for what's wrong more than I have. All we can hope to do is to -make a few trifling alterations on the premises--paper a wall or -enlarge a flue--before our lease expires. The chief reason I joined -this club was that I might stop theorizing and wringing my hands and -get down to business. We all recognize there's plenty of practical -work waiting for us, so what's the use of distrusting each other's -theories or motives? I've no Congressional bee in my bonnet. I'm not -trying to climb to political prominence on the shoulders of the -horny-handed Citizens' Club." - -Hall colored slightly. He had been harboring just that suspicion. - -"Good talk." "Come off your perch, Hall. This man Perry's all right," -was the response of several listeners. The group was now a dozen. - -Hall took his feet from the table, stood up and put out his hand. "It -isn't because the boys say so," he said. "I'm taking you on your own -word, Perry, and you'll never hear me peep again. You've the right -idea; it's no time for speculating, for there's lots of business to be -done right here in Benham. And if I had a notion you might be -masquerading--well, there have been cases where men in patent leathers -and dandy collars showed up strong in working-men's clubs, and the only -business they ever did was to lay and pull wires." - -"Some men are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have -greatness thrust upon them," said Ernest Bent. "Hall was born great, -but if Don Perry wants to go to the Legislature why shouldn't the -Citizens' Club send him there?" - -"That's so," said a second. - -"Not until he wins those spurs he spoke of--not if he's the man I take -him to be," exclaimed Collins, doughtily. - -"Not under any circumstances. I have no wish for office. I don't -desire to be a politician." Gordon spoke eagerly. The only thought in -his mind was to deprecate the suggestion. It was true that in looking -over the field there had seemed to him almost a glut of -philanthropists, and he had chosen the Citizens' Club as a more -promising opening than charitable work. But his ambition was only to -be a private in the ranks. - -"And yet," commented Hall, "what should we do without politicians? -They are the only persons who put things through, and laws on the -statute books are what we need. Look at this cigar." He exhibited the -butt end, which was all that was left. "The man who gave it to me -helped himself to a box, and the only thing he wouldn't help himself to -is a red-hot stove, but I didn't spit in his face and I smoked his -cigar, and I dare say he'll vote for some of our batch of bills because -I told him a good story. It's disgusting." He threw down the butt and -trod it under foot. "The cardinal sin of the sovereign people is their -ignorance. Will they never learn not to send dishonest men to -represent them?" - -"You see that Hall is both an idealist and practical," said Ernest Bent -to Gordon. It was through Bent that Gordon had joined the Citizens' -Club. He was his next-door neighbor, the son of an apothecary, and -had, while following his trade behind the counter, read books on the -science of government, and the rights and wrongs of man, with -excursions to Darwin and Huxley. As the result of bandying opinions -from time to time he had taken Gordon one evening to a meeting of the -club, and subsequently invited him to become a member. Gordon did not -need persuasion to join. It seemed to him just the opportunity he had -been looking for to espouse the cause which he had at heart, by -focussing his sympathies on practical measures. He recognized that the -club was not only a debating body, but aimed to be a political force, -and that many of its members were expert and not entirely scrupulous -politicians. But, on the other hand, in spite of the jaundiced views -of some of those who harangued the meetings, Gordon discerned that a -half-dozen men were really in control--among them Collins and Bent--and -that they were guided by a sincere and reasonably cautious ambition to -procure scientific reforms. A little consideration convinced him that -he was glad they were seeking to wield political influence. It gave -the effect of reality, of battle. Academic discussion was a vital -prelude to well-considered action, but, after all, as Hall Collins -said, the only thing which really counted was law on the statute books. -It suited his manhood to feel that he was about to fight for definite -issues. - - - - -XIII - -After eighteen months of prosperity the law firm into which Gordon -Perry had been admitted was crippled by the death of one of the two -other partners. The survivor, who was the junior of the two, and -decidedly the inferior in mental calibre and energy, proposed to Gordon -to continue the firm on the footing of two-thirds of the profits for -himself, and appeared pompously grieved when his former student -demurred to the terms. Before he could make up his mind to a more -equable division Gordon had made up his to separate and to practise -alone. While Gordon did not have a very high opinion of his partner's -talents, he was grateful for his own recent promotion, and was aware -that his associate's wise countenance and seniority combined would -probably avail to control the cream of the business--that brought by -managers of corporations and successful merchants, both prone to -distrust youth. But the plan of setting up for himself was tempting, -especially as he disliked the alternative of the lion's share going to -a lawyer of mediocre ability, and when Paul Howard asked why he did not -take the step in question, and intimated that he would befriend him in -case he did, Gordon resolved to burn his bridges and make the plunge, -or in more correct metaphor to hang out his own shingle. - -As he had expected, there was at first a slight lull in his fortunes; -but, on the other hand, he was able to pocket the whole income, and -even from the outset he was reasonably busy. Paul Howard's promise was -fulfilled. All his personal and presently some of the firm matters -were placed in Gordon's hands, and the two men met not infrequently as -a consequence. At Harvard they had been acquaintances rather than -friends. Their contact on the foot-ball team had inspired respect for -each other's grit, but they were not intimate. As the possessor of a -liberal allowance, Paul had belonged to a rather frivolous set, -notorious in college circles through lavish expenditures, which -included boxes at the theatres and suppers and flowers for the chorus -girls. Though Gordon was partial to comic opera himself, he had -regarded Paul as a high flyer, and Paul in his turn had pitied Gordon -as a good fellow spoiled by being obliged to "grind." When they met -again in their native city after a lapse of years, each was impressed -by the other's improvement and found him much more interesting than he -had expected. Paul had toned down. His spirits were less flamboyant; -he was gay-hearted instead of noisy, and his manner had lost its -condescension. On his part, Gordon had mellowed through contact with -the world and was more easy-going in his address, and no longer wore -the New England conscience in his nostrils. They met first by chance -at a restaurant at noon, and, habit bringing them to the same resort, -they lunched together from time to time, and the favorable impression -was strengthened on each side. - -Gordon interested Paul because the former was so different from most of -the men with whom he was in the habit of associating, and yet was, so -to speak, a good fellow. The true creed of most of Paul's friends when -reduced to terms, was substantially this, that the important thing in -life is to be on top, that in America every one has a chance and the -best men come to the front, that success means money, that money -ensures enjoyment, and that no one is supposed to be enjoying himself -or herself who does not keep feeding the dynamo of conscious existence -with fresh sensations and run the human machine at full pressure. -There were necessary corollaries to this, such as "the devil take the -hindmost," uttered considerately but firmly; "we shall be a long time -dead," murmured jocosely but shrewdly; and "the cranks may prevail and -the crash come, but we shall be under the sod," spoken philosophically, -with a shake of the head or a sigh; the moral of it all being that the -position of the successful--that is, the rich--is delectable and -intoxicating, and the rank and file are expected to comport themselves -with patriotic and Christian resignation, and not interfere with the -free workings of the millionairium, an ingenious American substitute -for the millennium. - -The stock market, athletic sports, and cocktails were the tutelary -saints of this section of society. They were habitually long or short -of the market from one or two hundred to several thousand shares, -according to their means. They followed feverishly the prevailing fads -in sport, yachting, tennis, polo, rowing, golf, rackets, hunting, horse -shows (as now, a few years later, "bridge," ping-pong, and the deadly -automobile). And after exercise, before lunch and dinner, and on every -other excuse, they imbibed a cocktail or a whiskey and soda as a fillip -to the nervous system. They were dashing, manly-looking fellows, these -companions of Paul, ingenious and daring in their business enterprises, -or, if men of leisure, keen and brilliant at their games. They set -great store by physical courage and unflinching endurance of peril and -pain, and they would have responded promptly to a national demand for -troops in case of war; but when anything arose on the political or -social horizon which threatened to disturb prices on the stock exchange -they set their teeth as one man and howled maledictions at it and its -author, though it bore the sign manual of true progress. In short, -life for them meant a bull market, a galaxy of competitive sports, and -perpetual novelty. - -In turning from this comradeship and point of view to Gordon Perry, -Paul did so guardedly. That is, although he was not altogether -satisfied to follow the current in which he found himself, he had no -intention of being drawn into the eddies by false sentiment or of -rowing up-stream at the dictates of envy and demagogism. He was ready -to admit that the policy of high-pressure enjoyment and acquisition -might be ethically defective, but he did not propose to exchange his -birthright for a mess of pottage and become pious or philanthropic on -sing-song lines. As he once expressed it to Gordon, some two years -after the latter had set up for himself, between the hypocrites and the -fools it was a comparatively simple matter to charm an audience with a -psalm tune compounded of the Rock of Ages and the Star-Spangled Banner -until it passed resolutions against the rich and in favor of the poor, -which not merely confounded common sense and subverted justice, but -gave a sort of moral sanction to the small lies, the sand in the sugar, -the dirt, the superstition and the slipshod ways which distinguished -the people without brains and imagination from those with. - -"We might divide all round," Paul continued, "but what good would that -do? I might move into a smaller house, sell my steam yacht and all my -stable, except a horse and buggy, and play the Puritan, but what good -would that do? People would laugh and my wife would think me crazy. I -tell you what, Don, we--I mean the crowd I run with--may be a grasping, -extravagant, gambling, sporting, strenuous lot, but we trot square. -There's no sand in our sugar, and when there's music to be faced we -don't run away, squeal or delude ourselves. But I've sworn off -cocktails for good. I began yesterday. And I'm going to keep my eye -on you, Don. I don't promise to follow you, but I'm interested. When -you get your plans in working order let me look at them. I may be able -to syndicate them for you, even though I have to shock my conservative -father in the process. By the way, do you happen to need a -stenographer? She's said to know her business. And this one is in -your line, too." - -Gordon had been conscious lately that his work required another clerk. -"In my line?" - -"Yes. A tale of woe. She's a protegée of my aunt's, and needs a -helping hand. A widow with two small children. Good looking, too, I -believe. Mrs. Wilson has had her taught until she can play the -type-writer like a learned pig, and take down your innermost thoughts -in shorthand. And now the woman insists on being thrown down hard on -her own resources, like a good American. We haven't a vacancy, unless -I invent one; and it occurred to me that you must have work enough for -a second stenographer by this time." - -"I'll try her." - -"Thanks. One good turn deserves another. I'll tell my aunt that she -ought to ask you to dine; and then if you don't give her to understand -that her will is all wrong and should be drawn over again the fault -will be yours." - -"Bankers may advertise their wares in the shop windows, but a -self-respecting lawyer may only look wise. He must hold his tongue -until he is consulted." - -"Squat in his office, eh, like a spider waiting for flies? But you -ought to know my aunt all the same." - -"I should like to immensely," said Gordon. - -"She's not like the rest of the family; she belongs to a different -flight. My father has brains and force. It's not easy to equal him in -those. He hasn't had time though to sort his ideas and tie them up in -nice white packages with crimson bows or to polish anything except his -wits. But Aunt Miriam goes in for the perfect life. That's what she -has in her mind's eye. You would suit her to death, Don. You ought to -be pals. She's absorbed in reforms and ęsthetic mission work, and she -has a fine scent for national tendencies, and there's no telling but -you might each get points from the other." - -Gordon laughed. "You flatter me, Paul." - -"No, I don't. You're not alike. You're both aiming at the same thing, -I suppose; but your ways are different. And you can't very well both -be right. You may not be pals after all. You may disagree and fight. -Come to think of it, I shouldn't be in the least surprised if you did. -A pitched battle between Gordon Perry and Mrs. Randolph Wilson would be -worth watching." Paul chuckled mirthfully at the conception. "I'm not -quite sure which of you I would back." - -"And now you're enigmatic, not to say absurd." - -"Wait until you get to know her; then you'll understand. I should only -tie myself up in a bow-knot trying to explain. Her daughter's marriage -gave Aunt Miriam her head. If ever there was a case of disappointment, -Lucille was one. Aunt Miriam had intended her to be a model of -ęsthetic sweetness and light, a sort of Matthew Arnold girl with -American patent electrical improvements, but she must have been changed -at birth. Lucille has her good points--I'm fond of her--but it's a -matter of utter indifference to her whether the world improves or not -provided she has what she likes. She must have been a constant jar to -her mother. Yet I never heard a whimper from Mrs. Wilson. My aunt had -no particular use for Clarence Waldo; yet when the thing was settled -one could never have guessed from her manner that she was not to be the -mother-in-law of Lord Rosebery or of the author of the great American -novel. But now that her mission as a mother is fulfilled, look out for -storm centres in the upper lake region of high ideas and fresh winds in -reform circles. By the way, the Waldos are in this country again, and -are to pass the summer at Newport. My wife says that we are to go -there too, with a new steam yacht and all the latest appliances for -cutting ice. So you see, I couldn't play the Puritan and the American -husband in the same act." - -As a result of this conversation, Constance Stuart obtained employment -in Gordon Perry's office. When she presented herself he recognized her -with surprise as the client whose scrupulous purpose he believed he had -divined, though she had given no clue to her instructions. He realized -that he was predisposed in her favor, so that she scarcely needed the -letter of encomium from Mrs. Wilson, which he paused to read, chiefly -because of its chirography and diction. He observed that both her face -and figure were a little fuller than when he had seen her last, which -was becoming, and that she was more trigly, though simply, dressed. It -was clear that she had risen from the ashes of her adversity, and was -determined to put her best foot forward. And what an attractive voice -and fine eyes she had. As he looked at her he said to himself that she -was qualified for the position as one in a thousand; the sort of woman -who would understand without becoming obtrusive, who would be neither a -machine nor a coquette; and though she was a novice, the endorsement -was explicit on the score of her capacity. Gordon felt that she would -give a new atmosphere to his office. - -Constance, on her part, was pleased to encounter one not wholly a -stranger. Though she had acquired deftness in her work, she felt -nervous at actual responsibility, and the memory of the lawyer's kind -eyes and frank smile gave her assurance. As she saw him again she was -sure that he would be considerate and reasonable. Mrs. Wilson had -spoken of an opening in Mr. Howard's office, where she would be one of -a roomful of typewriters, but she was glad now that this opportunity -had been offered her instead. There would be less excitement and less -contact with the hurly-burly of large events, and less chance for -promotion and for better pay in case she proved proficient. But, on -the other hand, she believed that she would find here a secure and -agreeable haven where she could do her best with self-respecting -faithfulness and support her children suitably. As she arranged her -small effects in the desk provided for her, she concluded already that -she was very fortunate. - -Just a year had passed since Constance had begun her new life in -Lincoln Chambers, and the impulse of that new life may be said to have -dated from her visit to Mrs. Randolph Wilson. From that interview and -that house she had brought away encouragement and inspiration. The -text of the value of the spirit of beauty possessed her soul with the -ardor of a new faith. Suddenly and with captivating clearness it had -been revealed to her that the external fitness of things is a fact and -not to be ignored, and that the purely introspective, subjective vision -sees only half the truth of existence. She perceived that she had been -content with rectitude, and unadorned plainness; that she had been -indifferent and blind to color, variety, and artistic excellence. It -was as though she had been nourished on skimmed milk instead of cream, -as though her diet had been a monotonous simple regimen without a -luscious ingredient. - -To begin with, she had turned her thought to her own home, where -cleanliness and order ruled, but where she had hitherto refrained from -other than haphazard efforts at pleasing effects. Her idea had been to -be comfortable and decent, and to let the rest take care of itself, but -now the ambition was awakened to impart taste to her surroundings. To -her satisfaction she found that this was not difficult to accomplish -even with her modest resources, as her mentor had predicted. Her -woman's intelligence and native refinement reinforced her aroused -interest, and by altering the angles and position of her furniture, and -by introducing a few spots of color to enliven the monotony of her -rooms she was able to effect a modest transformation delightful to her -own eyes. To plant flowers in boxes for her windows and to arrange the -few pictures she owned to advantage was the next step. The modern -design of her apartment lent itself to her efforts, as though its -newness, its modern tiles and its wall-papers were in league against -dull commonplaceness, and it seemed to her presently almost horrible -that she had remained indifferent for so long to the necessity of -external appearances, absorbed in the processes of introspection. When -she and Emil had married her predominant impulse had been to be a good, -loving wife to him, and to make his home inviting by her cheerfulness -and tact. The new, clean house had seemed to her pretty in itself, and -she had taken for granted that the sets of furniture, the carpets, and -other household goods, bought hastily, could not fail to set it forth -to advantage. They were substantial, fresh, and paid for, and in her -happiness it had not occurred to her to bother further. To do so would -have seemed to savor of undue worldliness. Now how far away appeared -that time of joyful ignorance, and how foreign to her present -sophistication its artless outlook. She had deemed herself cultivated -then, and later, in the stress of her misfortunes, had cherished -thoughtful simplicity as the essence of personal refinement, the -life-buoy to which she clung amid the waste of waters. By the light of -experience it was plain that she had starved herself and eschewed as -effete or unimportant that which was wholesome and stimulating. The -same impulse led her to take a new interest in her own personal -appearance, to arrange her hair tastefully, to consider a little what -colors suited her best, and in various simple ways to make the most of -her own personal advantages for the first time in her life. Not in the -spirit of vanity, but in acknowledgment that she had too much neglected -the temple of the body. And not only in respect to beauty in the -outward manifestations of everyday life did she feel that she had been -blind to what existence offered, but where art touched religion. She -was able to approach faith from a new point of view; to wrap her naked -intellectual communion with the garment of the church properties--to -yield herself to the spell of the solemn architecture, the new -stained-glass windows, the artistic reredos, and the vested choir of -St. Stephen's--without suspicion or doubt. Her life had lacked the -impulse of art, and in finding it she believed that she had discovered -the secret of a closer approach to God. - -She sought by zeal to make atonement to Mr. Prentiss for her past -deficiencies. It did not appear to her essential to recant her errors -formally; indeed, she did not do so to herself, for in respect to -certain dogmas and supernatural claims of the creed she had not -disowned her independence of thought. That which she wished to disown -unmistakably was the coldness of her attitude toward spiritual things; -she wished her rector to realize that heart was predominating over -mind, and that trusting, ardent worship had taken the place of -speculative lip service. A sermon by Mr. Prentiss came in the nick of -time to further this attitude. It was on the essentials of the -religious faith, and he defined them as the spirit of Christian -brotherhood and love through man to God. Although he did not in terms -disparage the importance of the dogmas and traditions of the church, -the impression left on Constance was that he had passed them by as -embodying the antiquated letter, but not the modern temper of Christian -doctrine. To her eager imagination the doubts which had harassed her -in the past concerning the truth of the miracles, and kindred -scriptural deviation, from the natural order of the universe were -reduced to trivial importance. Instead of stumbling-blocks to faith, -they had become objects of secondary interest, to one side of the -high-road along which the Christ-life was leading mankind. - -How better could she manifest this change of mood to Mr. Prentiss than -by devotion to church work? She became a teacher in the Sunday-school -in the Church of the Redeemer, the mission church connected with St. -Stephen's, joined once more a Bible-class under her rector's -instruction, and undertook to befriend some poor families less -fortunate than herself on the parish lists. But her dearest service -was to help to deck the church for the great Christian festivals, -Christmas and Easter. To arrange the evergreen and mistletoe, the -profusion of lilies and roses, humbly and under the guidance of those -versed in such matters, but with devoted hands, gave her a chance to -ventilate the new poetry of her soul. She had become enamored of the -charm of flowers; she delighted in the swell of the organ and the -melodious chants of the rejoicing choir. Her willing fingers quickly -became skilful. At the second Easter she was even appealed to on minor -points of taste by some of her fellow-workers, so that Loretta Davis, -who was standing by holding smilax, nudged her as a sign of -congratulation, for she had represented herself to Loretta as a -complete novice in such matters. Very grateful and inspiriting to -Constance was Mrs. Wilson's voluntary tribute on the same evening that -she had been of notable service. Mrs. Wilson was the presiding genius -and lady bountiful of these festivals, especially on Easter Day. It -was she who said yearly to Mr. Prentiss, "Date plenis lilia," and, -acting on that cue, gave orders to the florists to exhaust the -green-houses of the neighborhood, and to spare neither expense nor -pains to make St. Stephen's the most beautiful sanctuary in Benham. It -was she who organized and tactfully controlled the large committee of -ladies whose annual labor of love it was to dress the church. It was -she who oversaw and checkmated the commonplace intentions of the -professional decorators employed to fasten festoons and clusters beyond -the reach of ladylike gymnastics; and it was she who originated or set -the seal of approval on the artistic scheme of design adopted by the -committee. - -Mrs. Wilson had had several triumphs as a consequence of the freedom -afforded her by her daughter's marriage, but nothing had given her more -satisfaction than the progress of Loretta Davis's redemption through -association with Constance. She had jumped at the idea of placing the -wayward girl in the opposite tenement, feeling that the experience -would be a blessing to both women; that it would provide Loretta with a -sympathetic fellow struggler and example, and give Mrs. Stuart the -self-respecting occasion to help as well as to be helped. Still it was -an experiment until tried, the success of which could not be taken for -granted. - -That their relations had become sympathetic was due mainly to -Constance. In her present mood the unfortunate girl seemed to have -been sent to her as an opportunity for Christian usefulness, as a test -of her own spiritual regeneration. Here was the best chance of all to -show her changed heart to her rector. Her recognition from the outset -that Loretta was distasteful to her, and her shrinking not only from -the girl's attitude toward sin but from her smart matter-of-fact -personality served merely as a spur to her own zeal. She would win her -over and be won over herself; she would unearth the palpitating soul of -which Mrs. Wilson had confided to her that she had caught a glimpse, -and teach her to reassert and develop her womanhood. Help came -unexpectedly from Loretta herself after the ice of acquaintance was -broken and the two women found themselves close neighbors. Constance -was attracted by the keenness of her intelligence which, though Loretta -was ignorant and undisciplined, was apt to go straight to the mark on -the wings of rough but pungent speech. It conciliated Constance to -discover this trait, for she shrank from self-deception as a moral -blemish and one more typical of women than of men. The girl's -directness awoke an answering chord. A clear head removed half the -difficulty of the situation, and held out the hope that wise counsel -would not be lost. - -Loretta made no mystery of her circumstances. She told the story of -her shame with matter-of-fact glibness as an every-day incident in -human life, lamentable possibly on conventional grounds, but not to be -judged harshly by the discerning, among whom she chose to place -Constance. The thing had happened, and there was nothing to be said or -done but make the best of it--which now included the baby. - -"She wanted me to keep it, and I said I would, and that I'd come and -live here and see how I liked it. I shocked her and--well, I had never -talked with anyone just like her before. She seemed set on my living -here, so I thought I'd try." - -"She" was always Mrs. Wilson. This was Loretta's invariable way of -referring to her, as if there could be no question who was meant. She -talked of her constantly, with an eager yet shy interest, which -promptly revealed to Constance how matters stood. Loretta had taken up -her duties as a mother and subordinated her own wanton theories to -please Mrs. Wilson. This was the bond which held her, not religion or -the qualms of self-respect. Yet it was a bond, and Constance -recognized it as one to be cherished. To hear this woman, so bold and -indelicate in every-day speech, ask questions concerning her divinity -with a shyness not unlike that of a bashful lover was interesting. Was -not she herself under the influence of the same charm? Was not this -infatuation another tribute to the power of the spirit of beauty? Thus -Constance felt that she had a clue to her new companion's nature, which -she did her best to utilize. So it happened that Loretta went to -church because she could catch a glimpse of Mrs. Wilson from where they -sat; and Loretta took a new interest in her baby from the hour when -Mrs. Wilson sent her, tied up with a pretty ribbon, a little -embroidered infant's jacket bought at a fair; and Loretta helped to -deck St. Stephen's at Easter because of the chance that Mrs. Wilson -would speak to her, as of course she did. Constance found herself a -silent but zealous conniver and accomplice; and it impressed her that -the object of devotion seemed instinctively aware both of it and the -girl's need, for every now and then Mrs. Wilson would make the occasion -by a few words, a note, a visit or a gift to lift Loretta above the -level of her own devices. For just as Antęus gained strength by -contact with the earth, Loretta's spirit seemed to crave the -inspiration of Mrs. Wilson's gracious patronage. - -Though slap-dash and over-confident in her ways, Loretta was capable -and quick to adopt and to perform skilfully whatever appealed to her. -Her experience as a cashier in a drug store had given her a lingo and a -certain familiarity concerning modern remedies, and she had a natural -aptitude with her hands. Some of the maternal hygienic niceties -practised by Constance appeared to amuse her at first, but as she -became more interested in her baby, she outdid her neighbor in -pharmaceutical experiments with powder, oil, perfume, and whatever she -thought likely to make her child a savory specimen of babyhood. When -the child was a year old, Mrs. Wilson made good her promise that -Loretta should be instructed in nursing by securing her admission to a -hospital. At the same time she engaged another of her wards, a -responsible, elderly woman, to take up her abode in Loretta's tenement, -and it was arranged that this custodian should also tend Constance's -children during their mother's absence down-town. How to guard her -children properly after their return from school had been agitating -Constance, and this plan was exactly to her liking. She paid a small -sum weekly from her earnings for the supervision, and it was understood -that Loretta should have the same privilege after her apprenticeship -was over and she had become self-supporting. So it was that Mrs. -Wilson felt she had reason to be gratified by her philanthropic -experiment in Lincoln Chambers. - - - - -XIV - -The zest of existence must be largely ethical and subjective for the -majority of us or we should speedily become despondent or bored. -Contact with life is necessarily so commonplace for the mass of -humanity, that, were we dependent on personal participation in large -events and dramatic, splendid experiences for inspiration and content, -few would not find themselves restless and in the mental doldrums. -Fortunately for our peace of mind, most of us not only appreciate that -pictorial and world-stirring, or even exciting, affairs can be the lot -of only a fraction of mankind, but, by virtue of the imagination, -manage to impart to our more or less humble vicissitudes the aspect of -an engrossing situation. We recognize the relative insignificance of -the individual drama, but its reality holds us. Its characters may be -few, its scenery bare, its action trite and simple to other eyes, yet -each of us, as the leading actor, finds in the development of a human -soul a part which fascinates him, and lends itself to the finest shades -of expression. Whether it be a king on his throne, or a cripple in his -cot, the essential matter to the world is the nice interpretation. So, -as the true artist in a subordinate rōle forgets for the time that he -is not the leading actor, we refuse to be depressed by the unimportance -of our theatricals and are absorbed by the unfolding perplexities of -our own soul play. - -It is every American woman's privilege, according to her tastes, to -dream that she may become the wife of the President of the United -States, or wield a powerful influence as a poetess, humanitarian -educator, or other exponent of modern feminine usefulness. In marrying -Emil Stuart, Constance had renounced the latter in favor of the former -possibility. She had sacrificed all hopes of personal public -distinction, but there still had remained the vision of becoming famous -by proxy, through her husband. If this had never appeared to her happy -eyes as a bride more than an iridescent dream, the idea that she would -presently be working in a lawyer's office would have seemed utterly -inconsistent with her scheme of life, and a violation of her horoscope. -Yet, now that she was established in this position, she found the -experience not only satisfactory, as a means of subsistence, but -interesting. In the first place, it stirred her to be down-town in the -swift current of affairs and a part of the busy crowd which peopled the -huge office-buildings and swept to and from its work with the -regularity and rhythmic force of the tide. Through this daily contact -she discerned, as never before, the dignity and the pathos of labor, -and gained both courage and exhilaration from the thought that, though -there were generals and captains, and she was in the rear rank of -privates, the real strength of the army lay in the faithful performance -by the individual of that portion of the world's toil entrusted to -himself or herself. There was attraction, too, in her employment, -though her task was but to register and reproduce with despatch the -thoughts of others. The occupation tested her accuracy, patience, -tact, and diligence. She must avoid blunders and be swift to -comprehend. There were secrets in her keeping; affairs upon the issue -of which hinged large sums of money, and often the happiness of leading -citizens, who were clients of the office; close legal battles between -mind and mind; domestic difficulties settled out of court; and suits -for injuries, where the price of a life or of a limb were at stake. -Her lips must be sealed, and she must seem unaware of the tragedies -which passed beneath her observation. Yet the human element became a -constant, vivid interest to her, and now and then it happened, as, for -instance, when a forlorn hope brought liberal damages to the wronged or -the afflicted, that she was taken into the secret by the exultant -plaintiff, and was able to rejoice openly. There was, finally, her -association with her employer. From this she had not expected much. -She was there to execute his instructions without superfluous words or -the obtrusion of her own personality. She knew, instinctively, that he -would not treat her merely as a machine, but she took for granted that -their relations would be formal. It pleased her that, though this was -the case, there were moments, even from the first, when he let her -perceive that he regarded her as a social companion. To evince a -kindly interest in her personal affairs was simply human; anyone might -show this; but to talk with her on the topics of the day, to call her -attention to a book or an article, or, as presently happened, to invite -her opinion on a question of legal ethics, was a flattering indication -that he considered their point of view the same. A difference in point -of view is the most insurmountable, because the most intangible, -barrier to the free play of human sympathy and the social instinct. It -is the last great fortress in the pathway of democracy; one which the -besiegers will be able to carry only by learning the password. A -free-masonry exists, from the cut of the mind to that of the hair and -coat, between those who recognize each other, and not to speak the same -language palsies the best intentions. Modest as her introduction to -Mrs. Randolph Wilson had made her, Constance in her heart believed that -she spoke the same mental language as Mr. Perry. But would he -recognize it? That he did so not only increased her interest in -serving him, but held out the promise of a new friend. He might so -easily have passed her over, he who was so busy and had so many -acquaintances. Yet it was plain that he liked to talk to her, and that -he availed himself of opportunities for conversation. At the end of a -year it happened that the other stenographer, her predecessor, left Mr. -Perry's employment in order to marry. As a consequence, Constance -became the senior clerk, and was given formal charge of the office with -a slight increase in pay. - -[Illustration: There were moments, even from the first, when he let her -perceive that he regarded her as a social companion] - -She would scarcely have been human had Gordon Perry's complimentary -interest failed to inspire her with some degree of hero-worship. Yet, -though she was presently aware that she had set him on a pedestal, she -felt that she had excellent reasons for her partiality. Was he not a -clear-headed, astute reasoner, as well as kind? A thorough, -conscientious worker, who went to the root of whatever he undertook, -and prosecuted it vigorously, as well as a gracious spirit with a sense -of humor? If she did not reveal much of the last quality herself, she -appreciated and enjoyed it in others, especially when it was the sort -of humor which championed truth against error and could be playful or -caustic, as the occasion demanded. He was simple and approachable, yet -he had influential and fashionable friends. Recently he had made the -acquaintance of Mrs. Randolph Wilson, and was on pleasant terms with -her. Constance had recognized her handwriting, and had been apprised -by Loretta of his presence at Mrs. Wilson's entertainments. Loretta -had, what seemed to Constance, almost a mania for the social department -of newspapers. She knew by rote the names of the society leaders, and -was familiar through reportorial photography with many of their faces. -Mrs. Wilson was the bright, particular star in this galaxy of interest. -Loretta searched with avidity for every item of gossip which concerned -her divinity, and took a hectic pleasure in retailing her information. -Thus it happened that every now and then she would exclaim: "I see that -your boss was at her last entertainment," the fact of which was more -agreeable to Constance than the phraseology. Loretta's diction was -always clear, but Constance, who wished to feel that they spoke the -same language, had often to bite her lips as a reproof to her -sensibilities; and, especially, when she heard her hero spoken of as -her boss. It was so wide of the truth regarding him. - -Then there was his mother, and here again Constance had cause to feel -gratified. Quite unexpectedly Mrs. Perry had called upon her, seeking -her at Lincoln Chambers in the late afternoon when she was likely to be -at home. While serving her five o'clock tea, Constance had observed, -with interest in her personality, marked resemblances to her son. He -had inherited her naturalness and mental vigor. Her cheerful -directness, too, but in his case the straightforward attitude was -softened by the habit of deliberation and garnished by a more tolerant -gaiety. It was obvious that Mrs. Perry maintained the integrity of her -convictions until they ran counter in daily life to his, and in -capitulating reserved always the privilege to be of the same opinion -still, which she exercised with her tongue in her cheek, thereby -betraying her great pride in her son, and in her son's superior wisdom. -She professed, for instance, to regard his ideas concerning the new -home in which he had just installed her, and where she was keeping -house for him, as extravagant. What was the use of spending so much on -mere creature comforts? She did not need them. She had sat on -straight-backed chairs all her days and preferred them, and she did not -require a telephone to order her marketing. - -"When I was young," she said to Constance, "there was only one set -bath-tub in a house, if any, and no modern plumbing. We carried hot -water upstairs in pails, and those who drew water from the boiler -poured in as much as they took. But there are so many labor-saving -machines to-day, that sheer laziness is at a premium. Gordon declares -that I'm all wrong, and that more people are clean and comfortable as a -consequence. Then, as to the wall-papers and carpets and upholstery, -well, they're pretty, I can't deny that. But, somehow, it goes against -my grain to see so many bright colors. Yet when I say it looks -frivolous, Gordon simply laughs. So I've promised to hold my tongue -until everything is finished, and to let him have his way. He likes to -have his way almost as much as I do mine, Mrs. Stuart, and the -strangest part is that, though he doesn't always convince me, I have a -secret feeling that he must be right." - -Constance was taken to see the new house in one of the outlying and -more fashionable wards of the city, which, as Mrs. Perry had declared, -was supplied with all the modern improvements and was being furnished -with an eye to artistic taste. It became evident that the old lady, -despite her misgivings, was very proud at heart of the whole -establishment, but that her satisfaction centred in the library--her -son's room--a cosey, spacious apartment with tall shelves for his books -and various conveniences adapted to a bachelor and a student. As -standing on the threshold, she exhibited it to her guest with a shy -pride, which almost seemed to gasp at the effects disclosed, she -murmured: "It sometimes seems to me a wicked waste of money; but I'm -glad to think he's going to be so comfortable." - -Constance replied, "It's a delightful room. Just the place, restful to -the body and stimulating to the spirit, which a busy man like Mr. Perry -ought to have." - -"There can be nothing too good for him, if that's what you mean." - -"I heartily assent," said Constance, smiling. "And I agree with your -son that it is sensible and right to surround oneself with pretty -things if one has the means." - -"I guess that he must have talked it over with you," said the old lady, -with a keen glance. - -"No." - -"Well, it's a wonder he hasn't, for he sets store by your opinion on -lots of things. In my day, compliments weren't considered good for -young people, but I don't believe from your looks that you'll work any -the less well because I let you know what he thinks of you. He was -saying the other day that he feared you must find thumping on that -machine of yours, week in and week out, and taking down letters in -double-quick time, dull work, and I told him that a woman of the right -sort, with two children to support, had no time to feel dull or to -think about her feelings, but was thankful for the chance of steady -employment. You see I know something about that myself. You have your -boy and girl to keep your thoughts busy, just as I had him." - -"Yes, indeed. But it is a pleasure to work for Mr. Perry. No man is a -hero to his valet, and need not be, I suppose, to his stenographer. -You won't think it presumptuous of me to say that he has been very -considerate, and that I enjoy taking down his words because he is so -intelligent and so thorough?" - -"There's no one who likes to hear nice things said about him so well as -his mother. There's only one fault about him, so far as I know, and -that may be cured any day. He's a bachelor. I would move straight out -of this house to-morrow in order to see him well married." - -"That wouldn't be necessary, I imagine, Mrs. Perry." - -"Yes, it would. I should make a detestable mother-in-law. Gordon gets -his clear-headedness from me, and I know my own faults. I shouldn't be -jealous, but I should wish her to do things in my way, and she would -wish to do them in hers, so we should clash. I wouldn't risk it. But -I'd be willing to die to-morrow and never to kiss my grandchildren if -only he had a good wife. I should be very particular, though." - -"I should think so. I hope with all my heart that he may meet a woman -worthy of him." Constance was a little surprised by her own fervor. -Expressed in sound it seemed to her almost familiar. Then, without -knowing why, she sighed. Was it because she painfully recalled that -marriage was a lottery? - -Mrs. Perry evidently ascribed the sigh to that source, for after -regarding her a moment, she said softly, "It was easier for me than it -is for you. When I lost my husband we were very happy. You are left -alone. You see my son has told me your story." - -"I am glad that you should know." - -"But you are young, my dear. Young and a charming looking, lovable -woman. The right man may come along. Who knows?" - -Constance stared at her in astonishment. "My husband is not dead," she -said, a little formally. - -"Yes, I know. He deserted you." - -"But he is alive." - -"Gordon told me that you had not been divorced." - -"I have never thought of such a thing." - -"You know where he is?" - -"I have not seen him or heard from him since the day he left me nearly -three years ago." - -"Precisely." - -"He is the father of my children, however." - -For a moment Mrs. Perry seemed to be pondering the thesis contained in -her single word of deduction, and her visitor's reply. Then she bent -her shrewd eyes on Constance, and said with a quiet pithiness of -utterance, which reminded the latter of her employer. "I was not -tempted to marry again because I loved my husband, and could not forget -him. But I've never been able to convince my common sense that it is -fair to asperse the woman who marries again after the law has separated -her forever from the man who has done her a grievous wrong, but to -think it only right and fitting for a widow to take a second husband -when the first whom she has loved, and who has loved her, is in the -grave. If I were a young woman on my death-bed, I expect I couldn't -make up my mind to beg my husband to marry again. But I couldn't blame -him if he did. It's the way of human nature, often as not. It's -hateful to be lonely. And why shouldn't the girl marry again, who has -been left in the lurch by a cruel man, who has been false to the vow he -took to support and protect her? Only the other day a rich merchant -whom my son knows, a man of over sixty, who had lived with his wife for -thirty years, married again before she had been dead twelve months, and -they had a solemn church wedding. It was your clergyman, Mrs. Stuart, -who married them. I'd call it disgusting, except that some people said -he was solitary, although he had daughters. But to make fish of one -and flesh of the other, isn't just. I'm an old woman, and the longer I -live the more I dote on justice." - -"I remember now. I know whom you mean. Loretta insisted on reading me -the account of it from the newspaper. I've seen him in church. He is -one of the vestrymen." - -"Yes, it was a society function. But I don't judge him," said Mrs. -Perry, sitting up straight to emphasize her intention to be -dispassionate. "Men are queer. His wife was dead, and he had the -right to ask another woman to fill her place. But why, then, should -anyone criticise you?" - -"Have you heard anyone criticise me?" Constance asked, hoping to -extricate the conversation from the depths of this argument by a ripple -on the surface. - -"Some of them would. You did yourself, you know." - -"It was a new idea to me. I have never thought of marrying." After a -moment's silence, she added, simply: "How would you like your son to -marry a divorced woman, Mrs. Perry?" - -Her mind had picked out, instinctively, the crucial question. The old -lady gave a little gasp and start. - -"A divorced woman? Gordon?" Then she laughed. "The way you said -'divorced woman' had a formidable sound." The personal application was -evidently a surprise to her; evidently, too, it interested her, and she -wrestled with it sitting erect and bright-eyed. In another moment she -had worked out the answer to her own satisfaction. "It would depend -upon her--what she was like. If she were innocent--if she had been -grossly wronged, and had sought the relief from her distress which the -laws allow, and I liked her and he loved her, I shouldn't object. Or, -put it in this way: I should prefer that Gordon did not marry a widow, -but a girl with all the freshness of her life before her." - -"Yes, indeed," murmured Constance. - -"But plenty of young men fall in love with widows and marry, and no one -thinks any the worse of the widows, or of them. I'd fully as lief -Gordon married a divorced woman as one who had buried her husband. And -if I were sure she was a fine woman, I can imagine my sentiment -vanishing like moonshine, and my not minding a bit." - -Constance shook her head thoughtfully. "He must marry some fine, sweet -girl without a past," she said with gentle positiveness. - -"Amen to that, my dear. And the sooner the better." - - -One day early in September, in the summer following the date of this -conversation, Paul Howard entered the office. As he passed into -Gordon's private room, omitting the gay greeting which he was wont to -exchange with her, Constance noticed that his expression was grave and -tense, and that he looked tired. She said to herself that his summer -at Newport could not have rested him. - -It was Paul's second season at Newport. In accordance with his -half-humorous prediction, he had hired there, the previous summer, one -of the most desirable villas, a spacious establishment with a superb -outlook to sea. He had maintained a large steam yacht, and an -elaborate stable, and had entertained lavishly. All to please his -wife. At least so he regarded it, and this was in a large measure the -truth. Ever since his marriage, five years back, Paul had been -thinking that he would like to spend his vacation in some cool, -picturesque spot, far from scenes of social display, where with his -wife he could enjoy the beauties of nature unreservedly, and recuperate -from the fatigues of the winter. But, though he had hankered after -this in theory, and had broached the project to Mrs. Howard, somehow it -had never come to pass, and he had been secretly aware for some time -that it never would, unless one of them had nervous prostration and -were ordered away by a physician. For when one is a millionaire and -has an ambitious wife, one gets into the way of doing what other -millionaires do, and becomes acclimated to the amusements proper to -millionaires, until presently the necessity of having luxuries at one's -fingers' ends makes any other programme seem insipid and a bore. Those -who neglect to follow their own tastes cannot fail to be moulded by the -tastes which they adopt. We readily habituate ourselves to our -surroundings, whether it be too few baths, or too many. Paul delighted -in the plumbing facilities of his establishment. He was perpetually -taking baths and changing his underclothes, and the apprehension lest -this orgie be interfered with had taken the edge off his desire for -closer contact with the beauties of nature. He recognized the change -in himself, but charged it to the account of the spirit of the age, -that convenient depository of modern philosophers. So, by the end of -that first summer, he had found himself content rather than otherwise -with the experience and disposed to return. To begin with, his wife -was enthusiastic. As she expressed it, she had had the time of her -life, which was comforting. Although from Monday morning to Thursday -night had been spent by him in New York (he had arranged to be absent -from Benham during the summer months and take temporary charge of the -New York office), the rest of the week was passed at Newport, and for -the trip he had his own comfortable yacht. Besides, he took a -fortnight in August, during the time of the New York Yacht Club cruise, -with its opportunities to meet familiarly men of importance in the -financial world. There was golf and riding and driving, his baths and -cocktails. If he found the widely advertised, and rather foolish, -extravagant entertainments in dog-day August, to which his wife dragged -him, tedious, he could generally slip away early if she wished to stay -to dance, and often he could manage to be in New York when they -occurred. Besides, since to be present at them seemed to be regarded -as social recognition, he was gratified to be treated as a millionaire -would wish to be treated in the society of millionaires. To go, or at -least to be represented by his wife, who made his excuses most -charmingly he was told, showed that he had not been left out, which is -the controlling reason why people go to festivities at Newport, except -to those where trinkets of real value are given away in the course of -the evening. Paul had fully intended to renounce cocktails. In fact, -he had sworn off at Benham; but since they appeared to take the place -of a grace before meat at every gathering of Newport's fashionable male -contingent, he had yielded again like a good fellow to the spirit of -the age just for one summer. One swallow does not make a summer, as we -all know, and similarly, destiny often requires more than one summer to -carry the spirit of the age to its logical conclusions. This is true -of the effect of cocktails on the coats of the stomach, according to -the best medical authorities. But we are not considering that here. -Indeed, the working out process which Paul now found confronting him -was outside of himself and concerned him chiefly as a victim. If his -first summer at Newport had been propitious, taking all things, -including the spirit of the age, into consideration, the second had -been productive of momentous issues. It was in relation to these that -Paul had come to consult Gordon Perry, his friend and legal adviser. - - - - -XV - -Gordon Perry looked up from his desk with an air of surprise. "Why, -Paul, I thought you'd shaken the dust of Benham from your feet until -the last of the month." Then noticing his client's face as they joined -hands, he added, "I hope nothing has gone wrong." - -"Everything is wrong." Paul seated himself with grave deliberation. -"Are you at leisure? What I have to consult you about will take some -time." - -"No one shall disturb us." - -"It isn't business." Then, after a moment's silence, "It's my wife. -She has betrayed me." - -"Your wife betrayed you?" Gordon, as in his bewilderment he echoed the -words, recalled a woman with a dainty figure, a small, sphinx-like -mouth, full cheeks devoid of color, and black hair. He had never been -at Paul's house, but he had been introduced to her, and he had -frequently seen her and her little girl driving in her victoria, a -picture of up-to-date fastidiousness. At the time of her marriage she -had been called the prettiest girl in Benham. She was the daughter of -a St. Louis contractor with a reputation for executive ability, who had -moved to Benham in her childhood to become the president of a -car-building company. Paul's friends had intimated that he had gone -rather out of his way to marry her. Certainly it had been considered a -brilliant match for her. - -"Yes. It's a pretty kettle of fish, as you'll appreciate when you hear -the story; a hopeless case so far as our living together is concerned. -I've come to you for advice and to talk it over, though she and I -threshed out the situation four days ago. - -"May I smoke? Thanks. You don't here, I know; but I go from cigar to -cigar to keep my nerves straight, for I'm still dazed, and I haven't -slept much." - -"It's ghastly," murmured Gordon. - -"Now that I look back I suppose I ought to have realized that she never -really cared for me. Perhaps the gradual, unconscious perception of -that reacted on me. I fell dead in love with her looks, and would have -worshipped the ground she trod on had she proved what I thought her to -be. As it is, I'm humiliated, angry, disgusted, all at sea. But I can -see that we should never be happy together again. Love in the true -sense is over on both sides. I tell you this, Gordon, to begin with. -You haven't heard anything?" - -"Not a word." - -"I thought it likely they had copied the item from the Newport into the -Benham newspapers. Five nights ago I popped at a man in my house with -a revolver--a long shot--just as he was escaping over the balcony -outside my wife's apartment, and missed. At the moment I would have -given half my fortune to kill him. I dare say, it's just as well I -didn't. There would have been a bigger scandal. It was one o'clock, -and someone who heard the noise--servants, I know not who--talked, and -two days later there appeared in one of the newspapers an allusion to -the mysterious midnight pistol shot on the Howard place. A reporter -called on me; I declined to see him, but my butler, who can be trusted, -had instructions to say I was shooting cats. That's all the public -knows as yet. Here's a nice problem for the women's debating clubs: A -man discovers his wife's lover in his place; ought he to shoot him like -a rat on the spot, or accept the situation for what it is worth, just -as he has to accept a death in the family, a fire, or any other -visitation of Providence? Eh?" Paul gave a short laugh. "Of course -the primitive man shot every time. But we can remember one husband who -did shoot and who killed, and that all the exquisite people and some of -the wise people shook their heads and declared he ought to have thought -of his daughters. There was a world-wide scandal, and after the -funeral we were told that the husband had always been a crank, in proof -of which he died later in an insane asylum, while his wife has hovered -on the outskirts of the smart set ever since as a sort of blessed -martyr to the rigor of conventions. No, my dear fellow, the only -decent thing for me to do now is to compromise myself deliberately with -some common woman, so as to give my wife the chance to obtain a divorce -from me. That is the duty of the gallant modern husband, according to -the nicest and latest fashionable code." - -"You will do nothing of the kind, Paul." - -"Wait until you have mulled over it as I have, For the sake of my -little girl her mother's reputation must be sacred." - -"I see. Then her misconduct is not known?" - -"It's a profound secret. That is, no one has seen her in the act, but -it seems that all Newport except myself has taken it for granted and -been whispering about it all summer. It began last summer, dolt that I -was. But it's not known officially. That is, the newspapers have not -got on to it." Paul made a movement of impatience and, rising, took a -turn or two across the office. He stopped in front of Gordon and said: -"Mind you, the temptation to kill him like a rat was not presented to -me. I don't say I would have done it. I don't know what I would have -done under all the circumstances--the gruesome circumstances--had we -been face to face and he unarmed. He heard me and fled by the window. -I was in the ante-room and stepped out on the balcony, and running -round merely saw a disappearing figure. I did not know who he was, but -I surmised; and on the spur of the moment I felt it was almost a -hopeless shot. Who do you suppose he was?" - -"I have no idea, of course." - -"Guess." - -"It would be useless. I know no one at Newport except yourself, Paul." - -"Oh, yes, you do. Here's situation number two in the tragedy. It was -my cousin Lucille's husband, Clarence Waldo." - -"For Heaven's sake!" Gordon ejaculated. "It can't be possible." - -Paul's laugh broke forth again. "Stunning, isn't it? No dramatist can -improve on that. But I can. I know what you're thinking," he said, -folding his arms, as he stood before Gordon with a saturnine glee, as -though he were enjoying the other's consternation. "You're wondering -what Mrs. Wilson will say?" - -Gordon shook his head. "It is terrible for her, of course. But I was -thinking of your poor cousin." - -"Spare your pity in that quarter, man, until you know the truth. -Situation number three! Lucille and her husband have fallen out, -agreed to differ, ceased to love each other, never have loved each -other, and are to be divorced as soon as circumstances will permit. -Waldo is to marry my wife, and she--Lucille--has plighted her troth to -Bradbury Nicholson, of New York, a son of the president of the Chemical -Trust, of whom she is enamoured, and with whom, it seems, she has been -carrying on clandestinely for months. Didn't I tell you I could -improve on myself? The curtain now to red fire and the strains of -Tschaikowsky!" - -Paul flung himself into his chair, and squared his jaw. For a moment -he looked like his father. - -Gordon gazed at him with a brow of dismay. "How do you know this?" - -"From my wife. She made a clean breast of their affairs, and seemed to -be rather surprised that I didn't know. It's all cut and dried. That -is, it is to work out that way in the end, and soon, if I'm -accommodating. And I am expected to be. After the first flare-up, -which was all on my part, and did not take place until next morning, we -talked in our ordinary voices, as we are talking now." Since the -climax of his narration, Paul's sensational tone had ceased. He seemed -simply tired, as though he had been suddenly let down. "She set me the -example. You know her face. She looked whiter than ever, but was -perfectly clear and explicit. She said it was evident we were not -suited to each other. Although I agreed with her, I was fool enough to -ask her why, and she intimated politely, but clearly, that I bored -her--said we did not care for the same things. She admitted that I was -not to blame for that, and that I had been very generous in money -matters. Then we talked and we talked and we talked, at that time and -again in the evening, until the small hours. The upshot is, we're to -be divorced as soon as it can be arranged. She is to desert me, or I -her. She seemed to be posted as to the law. Or, whatever way you -suggest. I've given in. She appealed to my common sense, as she -called it. She told me that we had made a mistake, that we both knew -it, and that the sooner we recognized it, the better. That there need -be no disagreeable publicity beyond the fact that we were no longer to -be husband and wife. I couldn't deny that my love for her was dead. -The only difficult question was the child. Neither of us wished to -give her up, and each of us would like to have her all the time. - -"Poor little thing!" - -"Yes, indeed. When I thought of Helen, I told my wife at first that I -was ready to preserve the outward forms of living together, in the -teeth of her unfaithfulness, for the sake of our child. But she told -me that I was old-fashioned. She asked whether I thought it would be -worse for Helen, or whether Helen would be less happy to live as we -should mutually arrange than to grow up in a wretched household, where -the father and mother were utterly at variance. That was a poser. -It's the devil either way. What do you think?" - -"It's the devil, as you say. Amen, to that! But if it's got to -be--got to be," Gordon reiterated, "I'm inclined to think your wife was -right in terming your protest old-fashioned. Where a marriage is -utterly blasted, to retain the husk merely for the sake of the children -must fail, it seems to me, in nine cases out of ten, to accomplish its -purpose--to preserve what society is pleased to call the sanctity of -the home." - -"There would not be much sanctity left in mine," Paul murmured. -"However, when she saw that I was determined to have my full share of -Helen, or fight, we came to terms. Helen is to spend her winters with -me, her summer vacations with her mother; or some such arrangement; -and, of course, I am to provide for the child." Paul paused -reflectively. "I don't think it ever occurred to my wife that we do -not stand on an equal footing, and that she would not be the best of -moral influences for a daughter. It seems to be an answer to -everything that we were not sympathetic, and that she has met somebody -who is; her affinity, as they say. I had observed her intimacy with -Waldo, and was aware of some cases at Newport where women had -compromised themselves with other women's husbands; and, though I -didn't exactly fancy Waldo's attentions, and had hinted to her twice my -disapproval--to which the first time she pleaded surprise, and the -second, shrugged her shoulders--I never divined the truth until I -received this." He drew a letter from his pocket and handed it to -Gordon. "Even then, I couldn't believe the worst." - -Gordon perused the contents of the envelope, a single sheet of paper on -which were the words: "When the cat's away, the mice will play." - -"Humph! Anonymous!" he said. - -"She asked me what brought matters to a crisis, and I told her. She -thinks it must have been sent by a maid whom she discharged. I -received it at my New York office in the middle of the week, and the -following Sunday night, instead of leaving Newport in my yacht, as -usual, I pretended to do so, and returned late to my house on foot. -The rest you know. It may be I was too much absorbed in my business. -However, it's all over now, and it's best it should be over. What I -wish is advice as to the necessary steps; that you should tell me what -I ought to do." - -"As to a divorce?" - -"Yes. She is to follow my instructions in regard to it." - -"And what as to the others--the Waldos?" - -"No wonder you ask. I put the same question to her, and she told me -that I needn't concern myself about them; that they would find a way." - -"There are certainly various ways if people choose to connive at -divorce. There are certain States where the residence essential to -give the court jurisdiction can be obtained in a pitifully short -time--even as short as three months, and where an agreement to live -apart is allowed, through lack of scrutiny, to pass for genuine -desertion. If Mrs. Waldo and her husband have both been guilty of -infidelity, neither is entitled to a decree of divorce in any court of -justice. But that concerns them, not you. I was merely voicing the -regret which every decent man feels that there shouldn't be a uniform -law in all our States. But here one runs up against the vested rights -of sovereign peoples. It's a far cry from South Carolina, where no -divorce is granted for any cause whatever, to Wisconsin or Colorado, -where desertion for one year is sufficient. Yet, if one had to choose -between the two, there is less injustice and more regard for the -welfare of society in the latter extreme, radical as it is, than in the -former. Whatever happens, the world will never go back to marital -chains and slavery." Turning to the book-case at his elbow, Gordon -selected a law book and opened it. "I don't hanker after divorce -cases, but I'm very glad you have come to me, Paul. I was simply -shocked, at first; let me tell you now how heartily sorry I am for you." - -"Thank you, Don. I knew you would be. As to my cousin, Lucille, I -cannot say, positively, that she has taken the final step--actually -sinned. My wife admitted that she had no real knowledge, though she -took the worst for granted. But it is certain that the marriage is at -an end, that she and her husband are hopelessly alienated, and that at -the first opportunity she will marry this young Nicholson. As to -myself, you agree with me, don't you, that a divorce is the only -possible, the only sensible, course to adopt?" - -Gordon paused a moment before replying. "The only possible, no; the -only sensible--since you ask me as a friend as well as a client--in my -opinion, yes. It's a point which every man must decide for himself, if -it confronts him. Some people would say to you that you should stick -to your wife, not live with her necessarily, but refuse to break the -bond; that she might repent and return to you. It seems to me, though, -that if my wife had been false to me and my love for her were dead, I -would not allow such a sentiment--and it is only sentiment--to tie me -forever to a woman who was no longer my wife, except in name. Your -life is before you. Why should a vitiated contract be a bar between -you and happiness? You may wish to marry again." - -Paul shook his head. - -"Naturally you don't think so, now. But why not?" - -"As George the Second said, '_j'aurai des maitresses_,'" Paul answered, -a little bitterly. - -"Exactly!" exclaimed Gordon, with eagerness. "The continuance of such -a bond would be a premium on immorality. That's a point which -sentimentalists do not take sufficiently into account. Why is it -necessary to marry again, they ask. For one thing, because a man's a -man, as you and I know. It's a new question to me, Paul, because, -though it's one of the questions ever on the surface, I have never had -to deal with it squarely until now. The more I think of it the more -sure I am that a divorce would be sensible, and more than that, -sensible in the highest sense, without a jot or a tittle of -deprecation. I know; you don't wish to have to apologize. All I can -say is, if I were in your shoes, I would do the same. You have a right -to your freedom." - -"I couldn't see it in any other light. Besides, my wife is bent on -being free, herself. If I do not apply for a divorce, she will--and in -the shortest way." - -"As to the method," continued Gordon, after a moment's scrutiny of the -volume before him, "it is simple enough--a mere question of time. In -this State where a party is guilty of a cause for divorce--as in this -case, infidelity--the injured party is justified in leaving the home, -and after such separation has continued for the statutory period, the -injured party may obtain a divorce for desertion. Or, simpler still, -your wife can desert you, and after the necessary time has elapsed, the -same result would follow. The statutory period is three years." - -"My wife will not like that." - -"It is the only course, if she desires to preserve her reputation. If -she prefers to have you bring a libel for divorce on the ground of -infidelity, she can be free in a much shorter time. Also she could -obtain her liberty somewhat sooner by changing her residence to a more -accommodating jurisdiction and asking a divorce from you. Provided you -offered no opposition, she might succeed, but that would be a -back-handed method discreditable to you both, and an evasion of the -laws of this State, which might, hereafter, be productive of unpleasant -complications. It's a sad business, but you should have a clean job." - -"Assuredly. We could separate at once?" - -"Yes. But one of you must actually desert the other. An agreement to -live apart does not constitute legal desertion. On the other hand, if -she were to leave your house, the court would not inquire what was -going on in your mind, provided you did not show by any overt sign that -you wished to get rid of her. You can be glad, but you must not say -so." - -"I understand. She need not be burdened with my presence from the -outset. As for marrying Waldo, she must wait her three years." - -"And she may be thankful that she will be able to marry as soon as the -divorce is absolute. In some States the person against whom a divorce -is granted, is forbidden to marry altogether, or for a period of years -as a punishment. To forbid marriage altogether, in such cases, appears -to me another premium on immorality. To forbid it for a time, may -sometimes prevent indecent haste on the part of the guilty, but it is a -good deal like keeping after school children who have been naughty. -Besides, the party forbidden to marry, as in New York, for instance, -has merely to step into New Jersey and be married, and the second -marriage will be held legal by the New York courts and everywhere else." - -Paul was silent for a few moments. "That seems to me a decent -programme. My wife can go to Europe, and--and when the time is up, -marry Waldo. It's easy as rolling off a log." He clapped his strong -hand on the wooden arm of his chair, so that it resounded. "My father -will be terribly cut up. My aunt--God knows what she will say or do. -As for myself"--he paused while he lit a fresh cigar--"I shall have to -go into politics." - -"Politics?" - -"Yes. I'd like to go to Congress." Paul sat back in his chair with -the air of one taking a fresh brace on life. "I've always intended to, -sooner or later. Had it at the back of my mind. But now--well, if I -were sent to Washington, and presently got a foreign mission, my wife -might feel sorry for a few minutes that I bored her. Yet I wouldn't -have her back. Waldo is welcome to her. The real reason," he added, -suddenly, after another pause, "is that I've been asked. One of the -Republican State Committee spoke to me about it in June, just before I -went to Newport. The election isn't until a year from this autumn. I -told him I'd think it over. I've got to do something to counteract -this disgrace, and to forget it. Well, I must be going. I'll see you -again as soon as I hear from my wife." - -Gordon detained him. "You mustn't take too despondent a view of it. -After all, it's not your fault, it's your misfortune. All your friends -will recognize that; and no one will be able to understand how any -woman could weary of the love of a man like you, and prefer a listless, -pleasure-seeker, such as Clarence Waldo." - -Paul shrugged his shoulders. "It's the spirit of the age, I suppose. -I'm not sorry, I tell you, but I'm piqued. We are shells upon the -beach. The tide sweeps us along even though we know it is the tide, -and can say of the next man, 'what a fool he is, to drift like that!' -But what is a fellow to do? How is he to escape? I'm a -millionaire--I'm likely to be several times that if nothing breaks. I -didn't wish to go to Newport, but I went. I don't care for half the -things I do, but they have to be done; that is, I do them of my own -accord, when the time comes, and, though I kick, I know I should regret -not doing them merely because they seem to be the proper things for -people of my kind. There you are. I have a sort of double self, as -you know. It isn't that I'm weak, it's--what do you call it?--the -force of my environment. And a millionaire's environment has a -pressure of two hundred pounds to the square inch. It's the same with -the women. What with rich food, splendid apparel, perpetual -self-indulgence, and the power which money gives them to gratify every -whim, is it any wonder that they don't let a little thing like the -marriage vow stand in the way of their individual preferences? Who is -to hold them to account? The church? Some of them go to church, but -in their hearts they are satisfied that this is the only world. And as -to loss of social position--of which they really would be afraid--the -tide is with them. There are too many sympathizers. Or at least, it -is inconvenient to be obliged to hurt other people's feelings in a free -country." - -"Rather a formidable indictment against Newport," said Gordon. - -"It isn't against Newport. It's against the plutocracy all over the -country. Newport merely happens to be the place where very rich men -with social instincts most do congregate in summer. My domestic -tragedy is typical, yet sporadic. Every season has its crop, but, -numerically, it is small. Infidelity is only one of the phases of the -spirit--but the spirit is rampant. Money-money-money, -luxury-luxury-luxury, self-self-self (individualism, they call it), and -in the process everything is thrown overboard, except the American -flag, and life becomes one grand hurrah, boys, with no limitations, -save murder and lack of physical cleanliness. And I belong to the -procession, my dear fellow. I'm disgusted with it at the moment, -that's why I rail. But in six months I shall be in it again. See if -I'm not." - -"You're simply depressed, Paul, and no wonder," said Gordon, with -genial solicitude. "But we mustn't judge our plutocracy--aristocracy, -or whatever you choose to call the personal representatives of the -prosperity of the country--by the antics of a few, disgusting as they -are. I agree that their behavior apes the frivolity and license of the -old French court without its elegance, and I don't suppose that the -founders of our institutions ever included a leisure class as a part of -their scheme. Absorbed in ideals, they neglected to take poor human -nature sufficiently into account. We have lost the buffalo, but we -have acquired a leisure class, and we must make the best of it, not the -worst. We can't cut their heads off; this is a free country. It would -be dreadful--dreadful, wouldn't it, if our institutions, of which we -are so proud, were to produce merely the same old thing over again--a -leisure class of voluptuaries?" Gordon paused for a moment and his -smile died away at the vision which his words evoked. "I don't intend -to believe it; you don't. There are students of destiny who maintain -that nations rise, reach maturity and decline by regular economic laws, -but that human nature never really improves. That's fatalism. The -free play of human individualism is having its last grand chance here -in these United States. If our aristocracy proves no better than any -other--if the rich and powerful are to sneer at morals and wallow in -licentiousness, we couldn't blame society if it should try a strong -dose of socialism, with its repressing, monotonous dead level, rather -than accept the doctrine that the law of supply and demand is the sole -ruler of the universe. But as good Americans we can't afford to judge -our plutocracy, as yet, by the vices of a few people at Newport." - -"They sin in such a cold-blooded way," said Paul. "If they really -cared, as some of the foreigners do, one could understand; but they -don't." - -"I know. It's one of the canons of old-world traditions that adultery -is almost redeemed by the possession of an artistic sense. To commit -the one without possessing the other, may be no worse morally, yet it -seems much more vulgar. But we mustn't take them too seriously, even -though they are our countrymen and women. They are the exceptions--the -excrescences. Look at your father, for instance. He belongs to -them--but he is not of them. The same is true of yourself; and it is a -privilege, with all its responsibilities, a privilege I envy you. Who -wouldn't be a multi-millionaire if he could? What is more alluring -than power?" - -Paul returned the pressure of his friend's hand. "You're a good -fellow, Don. I suppose I'm hipped. That's not my way, as you know. -Usually everything with me is rose color; I'm too good an American, if -anything." He buttoned his well-fitting coat with a dignified air, as -though the pride of the suggestion had stirred his pulses like a brass -band. "The trouble is, that when I'm feeling well, everything goes, -and the only thing which seems of importance is to come out ahead of -the other fellow. So we kick over standards and degenerate. This time -I've been struck with a club, and--and I don't see that it's my fault. -Well, good-bye. As soon as I hear, I'll let you know." - - - - -XVI - -There was only one shadow on Constance's present happiness, for she was -happy in her independence and her work. She had demonstrated her -ability to support herself and to defy the blow of fate which had -deprived her of a husband's aid and protection. It was the growing -perception that she might not be able to do all she desired for her -children. This sprang from her own keener appreciation of the value -not only of the best educational advantages, but of refined personal -surroundings in the development of character. She could inculcate -noble morals; she could teach her children to be truthful, brave, and -simple; she could provide them with public school instruction, and she -was resolved to give them, if her health remained good, the opportunity -to continue their education longer than was the wont with parents whose -offspring had their own way to make in life unaided. But her ambition, -or rather her perception of what she desired for them, did not stop -here. There were present demands which must be neglected solely -because of her straitened circumstances; and she beheld ahead a long -and widening vista of privileges from which, perforce, they would be -debarred during the formative years for a similar reason. Henrietta's -teeth were disconcertingly crooked, and should have the continuous -attention of a skilful dentist, and her voice had already that nasal -twang which, if unchecked, is sure to result in feminine inelegance of -speech. She wished that both the children, especially the girl, might -have thorough instruction in French and music, and be sent to dancing -school. Little Emil was giving signs of marked talent for drawing, and -the thought of how that gift could be developed, was already causing -her concern. It was obvious to her that each of the next ten years had -more insistent instances in store for her. She knew that she could -give her children what the democratic world delights to call a solid -foundation, but she was eager to equip them with stimulating mental -ideals and bodily graces, to put them within reach of excellence and -culture. - -She was too grateful to repine or to allow this shadow to oppress her -spirit. Its sole effect was to stimulate her energies, to make her -fertile in resources to counteract this disability, and painstaking in -attention to her duties in the hope of a small increase in salary. She -kept a close watch on Henrietta's voice, and put her on her own guard -against its piercing quality; she organized a small dancing class from -among the children in Lincoln Chambers for one evening in the week, and -from her own past experience essayed their instruction in waltzing and -social decorum. Also, on Sunday afternoons, she would often lure Emil -and Henrietta to the new Art Museum and give them the opportunity which -her own youth had lacked to discern artistic form and color, and to -acquire inspiration from world-famous or exemplary paintings and -sculpture. Then there suddenly came to her as treasure-trove a new -fund to be drawn on for such purposes. Her employer, scanning the -field of philanthropy by the light of his own professional experience, -had realized that there was need in Benham of a legal aid society--that -is, of an organization which would defray the charges of a firm of -attorneys to whom people in utter distress, without means, and with -petty but desperate grievances in which busy lawyers could not afford -to interest themselves, could apply for succor. When it appeared that -the clerical duties incident to the fund collected for this charity -must be performed by some suitable person, it occurred to Gordon -Perry--he had been seeking some such occasion--that Mrs. Stuart would -make an admirable secretary and treasurer, especially as he intended -that the society should pay two hundred dollars for the annual service. -Constance's heart throbbed with delight at the announcement, and the -first fifty dollars was devoted by her to the treatment of Henrietta's -irregular front teeth. Would she be able some day to send Emil to -college? Might she hope that her daughter would grow to be thoroughly -a lady, not merely a smart, self-sufficient woman, but a gracious, -refined, exquisite spirit like Mrs. Randolph Wilson? In her outlook -for her children's future, she had become aware that she had set up two -individuals for emulation: the woman whose ęsthetic Christianity had -enriched her life, and the man whose unaffected intelligence and vigor -offered to her daily observation an example of honorable modern living. -To lift her own flesh and blood above the rut of mediocre aims and -attainments was now the ambition of her soul, and she was ready to -strain every nerve to bring this to pass. - -[Illustration: Constance would find her in possession at Lincoln -Chambers] - -Her acquaintance with Mrs. Perry had ripened into intimacy. The old -lady had taken a strong fancy to her, and the liking was cordially -reciprocated. This meant increasing friendliness on both sides. Not -infrequently, on her return from the office, Constance would find her -in possession at Lincoln Chambers with the room warm, five o'clock tea -ready, Henrietta in her lap and Emil beside her, listening to absorbing -reading or stories, each of which had a pungent, personal flavor, with -a not too obtrusive moral. On the other hand, Constance was asked to -dine every now and then in the new house, and after dinner, sometimes -it happened that they went to the theatre with Mr. Perry, or on -evenings when he was busy, the two women would sit cosily with their -work, and conversation never flagged. Women, when sympathetically -attached to each other, seem to be inexhaustible reservoirs of speech, -which flow with a bubbling copiousness bewildering to masculine ears. -In their case, the hands of the clock set the only limit to their -mutual enjoyment. The hour of departure brought the single -uncomfortable moments of the evening for Constance--that is, for the -first two evenings. Her apartment was a full mile distant, but her -friends' house was not more than two hundred yards from a line of -electric cars which passed within a block from her own door. Until -Gordon Perry, who came out of his library to say good-night, announced -his intention of accompanying her home, the idea had never occurred to -her that it was necessary, or that he would offer his escort. Yet such -are the inconsistencies of the feminine mind that the moment he did so -she became aware that, if he had not offered it, she would have felt a -trifle hurt. At the same time she did not wish him to accompany her. -It would be obviously a superfluous piece of politeness; there was no -risk of any kind in going home in the cars alone. She told him this in -a few words of clear remonstrance. But he smilingly put on his -overcoat, said it was a beautiful moonlight night, and assured her that -he was anxious for a walk before going to bed. The idea of his walking -only made the situation worse. Constance turned to his mother for -support, but Mrs. Perry cordially seconded his assertion that it would -do him good, so there was no escape from acceptance. The thought of -having dragged a busy man--and her employer--out of his house at night -disturbed her equinamity all the way home, so that although she -delighted in having him as a companion in the exhilarating autumn air, -under a glorious moon, she determined to prevent its recurrence. Yet, -as she approached her destination, the fear of seeming ungracious -supervened, and she had almost decided to postpone her protest until -the next time, when he unwittingly gave her an opportunity to speak by -remarking that he hoped that this was only one of many evenings which -she would spend with them during the winter. "You must know," he -added, "that my mother has taken a great fancy to you, and that it will -not suit her at all if you are niggardly in your visits." - -Constance smiled acquiescingly. "I love your mother," she said, "and -it will be a pleasure to me to come as often as she wishes." At the -same instant she said to herself, "Now for it!" Whereupon she began -sturdily, "Only, Mr. Perry----" - -Why did she pause? She was at a loss to know. It was the reverse of -her custom to begin a sentence and leave it dangling in this unfinished -manner. She accused herself of being a goose, and, simultaneously she -took a new breath to go on, only to be met by her companion's blithe -sally: - -"Only what, Mrs. Stuart?" She could see that his eyes were laughing. -Did he divine what was choking her? - -"Only this: if I come to your mother, you must let me go home by -myself. The electric cars are a stone's throw from your house, and run -close to mine, so there is not the slightest necessity for your -incommoding yourself." She paused, troubled. The last turn of the -sentence, though it expressed her meaning, had not the felicitous sound -she desired. - -"I came because I knew it would give me pleasure," he answered, -quickly, still with a laughing light in his eyes, under which she let -her own fall quite unnecessarily, as it seemed to her. She was -provoked with herself. The dialogue had acquired the aspect of social -give and take, which was entirely remote from her intention. - -"I have enjoyed it, too." She felt that this was the least she could -say. "But there is no need; besides, Mr. Perry, you are my employer, -and--and--" (she was halting again, but she bit her lip and plunged -forward, seeking only to make herself clear) "that does make a -difference--it should make a difference. If I were--if I were not your -stenographer, I should probably go home in a carriage, but I can't -afford one, and--and the cars are perfectly safe and comfortable. I am -used to looking after myself." - -Her cheeks were burning. She had said what she meant to say, but it -sounded crude and almost harsh. She wondered now why it had seemed -necessary to her to make such a pother. As no immediate answer came -from Mr. Perry, she stole a glance at his face. It had grown almost -grave, and there was a different light in his eyes--a curious -expression which puzzled her. "I hope you understand," she said, "and -that I do not seem ungracious." - -"I understand perfectly. I was admiring your sense--your sanity. Such -things do make a difference--must make a difference, so long as human -nature is constituted as it is; but every woman has not the hardihood -to accept the limitations of her social lot. As you say, you are used -to looking after yourself. I should not have been guilty of a breach -of manners, had I allowed you to go home in a car as you came--put you -into one, perhaps, at the street corner, if I were not occupied. That -would have been the natural course under all the circumstances, -although it might have been equally natural to treat another woman with -more ceremony. I came with you to-night because it gave me pleasure, -as I told you, and because I wished you to understand that the -relations between us are not those of employer and employee, but social -in every sense. You are my mother's friend and mine." - -Constance's nerves tingled pleasantly at the apostrophe. "You are very -good. You have always been kindness itself to me. I have felt that -you both were my friends." She put out her hand shyly and gratefully -to bid him good-night, and at the same time to indicate the warmth in -her heart. "But now that I do understand," she added, "you must be -sensible, too, and realize that I do not need an escort." She was -rather appalled by her own boldness. His plea had only strengthened -her feeling that his politeness was superfluous. - -"Do you forbid it?" he asked, with an inflection of gayety. - -She could not help smiling. "I cannot do that, you know. But if you -wish to make me feel entirely at home, you will limit yourself at most -to seeing me safely on a car at your street corner." She felt that she -had touched firmer ground--that she was making her claim as a friend of -the family, not being forced against her will into the pose of a -coquette. - -"A compromise!" he ejaculated. "And what a one-sided one." - -"Life is made up of compromises, is it not? I thought I was being very -generous." - -There was a gentle, plaintive cadence to her words which both charmed -his ear and touched his sensibilities. Was she about to strike her -flag in the last ditch out of sheer weariness at his bravado? - -"My only wish would be to please you," he said with sudden earnestness. - -Constance looked at him wonderingly, a little appalled at the change in -his manner and speech. What had called forth their intensity? She -became conscious that the blood was rising to her cheeks again, and -that she had lost her composure a second time. For an instant Gordon -gazed at her eagerly, as though he enjoyed her bewilderment, then with -a return of gayety, he exclaimed: - -"But I promise nothing--nothing." - -He raised his hat and Constance, who had already entered the vestibule -of her apartment-house, stood irresolute before ascending the stairs as -one in a trance. She was displeased with herself; for the first time -in her life it had seemed to her that her tongue and her wits were not -under the control of her will. Presently she reflected that she might -be working too hard and was run down, which on the whole, was -comforting, until she looked in her mirror and saw there the refutation -of this theory in her own hue of health. No, it could not be this, for -there was no blinking the fact that she had improved notably in her -appearance of late, which was comforting in a different way. She was -so struck by the fact that she stood for a moment surveying her face -and figure with contemplative surprise. But why had Mr. Perry been so -queer? She asked herself that question more than once before she fell -asleep, and in the morning ascribed it to her own social inaptness. - -The next occasion when she spent the evening with Mrs. Perry was a -fortnight later. When she was ready to go home Gordon put on his -overcoat without a word and confronted her tantalizingly. She was -conscious of a little disappointment, for, in spite of his declaration -of independence, she had believed that he would not persist, but as he -opened the front door she heard the welcome words: - -"To-night I am going to comply with your wish by putting you on a car -at the next corner." - -"Thank you, very much." She forebore to add what was in her mind, that -it was the only sensible way. But her little triumph gave elasticity -to her steps. - -For the first few moments the night seemed to set a seal upon his lips -as he walked beside her, so that his response had the effect of being -pondered. "My desire is to please you. But I shall reserve the right -of pleasing myself now and then as I did the other day." - -"It pleased me, too," Constance said, amiably. "What I feared was that -it might become a custom--an unnecessary burden." - -Gordon signalled an approaching car. "A burden? Mrs. Stuart, the -burden of walking home by moonlight with the wrong woman is one which -men generally manage to shift." - -Constance laughed. "Perhaps I should have thought of that. But now -you will be protected at all events." - -From her seat in the electric car she beheld him standing at the street -corner until his figure was lost in the shadows of the night. She felt -complacent. She had gained her point, and since it was on terms need -she feel otherwise than happy at the prospect of having him sometimes -as a companion on her journeys home? The more she could see of him -rightfully, without encroaching on his time, surely the better for her. -The discretion rested with him, not with her; she was simply the -fortunate beneficiary. - -So it came to pass that once in three or four times Gordon would -exercise his privilege; and as another year slipped away and the spring -brought milder nights and more inviting sidewalks, the occasions became -more frequent, so that before either seemed to be aware of it, the -custom of riding was more honored in the breach than the observance, -and this without further discussion. They would simply start as though -she were to take an electric car, and before reaching the corner he -would casually interrupt their discourse to say, "It is a fine night; -shall we walk?" to which Constance would reply, "If you like." After a -while even this formula was dispensed with, and she was ready to take -for granted that they both preferred the exercise. One day he asked -permission to accompany her and her children on one of their Sunday -afternoon strolls into the country, a proposal which startled her, but -which she had no obvious excuse for refusing. On their return home -from the excursion Henrietta and little Emil were so enthusiastic over -this addition to the party that she felt reluctant on their account to -prevent its repetition. So the experience was renewed every now and -then, and, since he seemed to enjoy it, she accepted it as one of the -pleasures which Providence had thrown in her way. - -Intimacy naturally resulted from this increasing association. It was a -constant comfort to Constance that Mr. Perry was such a natural person; -that he obviously liked her for herself, but did not affect to ignore -or gloss over the fact that her life was circumscribed and straitened -by her necessities; that, while assuming that she was interested in and -able to appreciate the finer aspirations and concerns of existence, he -let her perceive that he understood her predicament. Consequently she -felt at liberty and encouraged to speak to him from time to time on the -subject nearest her heart--the advancement of her children--and to ask -advice in relation thereto. - -On one of their evenings--a moonlight night, which rivalled in beauty -that when he had first accompanied her--she had been consulting him as -to the conditions of a free art school recently started in the new Art -Museum, having little Emil in mind. After a short silence she suddenly -said, "I admire your mother greatly, as you know. But sometimes I am -doubtful whether she does not discourage me even more than she gives me -hope; her example, I mean. She brought you up. She was almost as -friendless as I. I dare say she did not have so many friends. -Yet--yet you are you. She managed to give you everything." - -"God bless her, yes, brave heart that she is." - -"But----" - -He cut her pensive conjunctive short. "I can guess what you are going -to say. Excuse me; go on." - -"I cannot give my children everything. But everything, then, would not -be everything now." - -"I divined your thought." The sympathy radiating from his sturdy tone -brought a pleasant light to her eyes. - -"Yet you are you," she reasserted. - -He laughed. "Logician and flatterer! But you are right. My mother -would have had a far harder struggle had she begun to-day. She might -not have been able to give me everything, for everything then was not -everything now, as you have said." - -"Yet you have everything," she persisted, doughtily. - -"Even if that were true, it would not signify. You are facing a -condition, not a theory. Flour and sugar and standard oil may be -cheaper to-day, but the demands of civilization on the individual are -so much greater--of civilization everywhere, but especially in this -country, where the growth of prosperity has been so prodigious and the -stress of competition has become so fierce." - -"Oh, yes; oh, yes. You understand," she said, eagerly. "There are so -many things which I should like to give my children which I -cannot--which I know are beyond my reach, but which would be of -infinite service to them in the struggle to make the most of life. You -spoke to me once of the limitation of my social lot. That is nothing. -What is hard for a mother to bear is the consciousness that her -children will fall short of what she would wish them to become because -she has not the power to secure for them the best. Yet it must be -borne, and borne bravely." - -"Yes, it is lamentably hard. The chief blot on the triumph of -individualism--on the American principle of the development of self--is -that the choicest privileges of civilization should hang beyond the -reach of those who are handicapped merely because they are handicapped. -The destruction of the poor is their poverty, as my old school-master -used to state, though I didn't know then what he meant. And it must be -borne, as you say. Even here, where everything is possible to the -individual, renunciation still stares the majority in the face as the -inexorable virtue." - -"Surely," she answered, with simple pathos. "Thank you for -understanding me. I knew you would. If I struggle, it is because I am -so ambitious for my children to rise. I would not have them remain -mere hewers of wood and drawers of water--one of the majority you speak -of--as I have been." - -He turned his face toward her. "You are far more than that, you are a -sweet woman. You must not underestimate character in your recognition -of the power of things. You can give your children that, and it is no -cant to say that character remains everlastingly the backbone of human -progress." - -"Things!" she echoed, ignoring apparently both the tribute and the -consolation proffered. "That is the word." She hugged her thought in -silence for a moment as though fascinated. "When I was a girl there -were no things to speak of; now--" she paused and sighed; evidently the -vision which her spirit entertained disconcerted her powers of speech. -"It is not that I wish my children to be rich--merely rich, Mr. Perry. -You know that. It is that I wish them to be able to appreciate, to -feel, to enjoy what is best in life. You spoke of the power of -character just now. There is Mrs. Randolph Wilson. She has all the -virtues of plain character and so much more besides. Compare her with -a woman like me." - -"Mrs. Randolph Wilson!" His tone revealed his surprise at the -antithesis. "I see. I see," he repeated, interested by the -completeness of the contrast. - -"I owe so much to her," Constance murmured. "Before I knew her my -outlook was so narrow and colorless. She has taught me to enrich my -life, poor as it still is." - -"She is a fine woman. And yet, in my opinion, you need not fear -comparison with Mrs. Wilson." - -"Oh, Mr. Perry!" She stopped short for an instant in recoil. The -protesting astonishment of her exclamation showed him not only that he -had violated a temple by his words, but that, as a consequence, she -believed him insincere, which in her eyes would be a more grievous -fault. - -"It is quite true," he said with decision. "You are very different; -but it is quite true. Your outlook was narrow, perhaps, but it was -clear and straight." - -"Oh, no. You do not know her, then, nor me. I tried to see clearly -according to my lights, but that is just it--my lights were defective, -and I saw only half the truth until she revealed it to me." - -"Mrs. Wilson has had great opportunities." - -"Yes, indeed. And she has taken advantage of them. Great -opportunities!" she repeated with an exultant sigh. "They are what I -had in mind a few minutes ago; not for myself, you know, but for my -children. I envy--yes, I envy opportunities for them." Her voice had -a quiver as though she were daring a confession to the sphinx-like -stars. - -She had changed the emphasis of the dialogue, but Gordon pursued his -tenor. "Her daughter has had every opportunity, yet her mother can -scarcely regard her with pride." - -"I barely know Mrs. Waldo. It was just before her wedding that her -mother was so kind to to me. I saw her once or twice at the house, but -only for a moment." - -"At least she has made a mess of her marriage." - -Constance started. "It is true, then, what was in the newspapers?" - -"It is true that she and her husband have agreed to separate. It is an -open secret that she has gone to Sioux Falls in order to obtain a -divorce on a colorless ground in the shortest possible time. They will -both be free in less than a year." - -"How terrible! Loretta Davis read me a paragraph last week to the -effect that Mr. and Mrs. Waldo were not happy. I set it down as -baseless gossip. It seemed to me impossible that Mrs. Wilson's -daughter--Ah, I am so sorry for Mrs. Wilson." - -"She was in the office last week." - -"I remember." - -"She came to consult me; to see if anything could be done. She has -reasoned with her daughter--used every argument in her arsenal--but -without avail. Mrs. Waldo's one idea is to be free. And yet she has -had every opportunity." - -"But that proves nothing, Mr. Perry, surely." They had reached the -threshold of Lincoln Chambers. There was the courage of conviction in -the frank gaze she bent on him. - -"Only that the power to have everything may numb the spirit and make -individual self-will the sole arbiter of conduct." - -"Agreed. But there can be no doubt that civilization offers us more -to-day than it ever did if we can only be put within reach of it. The -thought sometimes haunts me that I may die and Henrietta grow up to be -like--like Loretta Davis; never know what life may mean, because she -has not had the chance." - -He looked at her admiringly. "I am more than half teasing you," he -said. "While it is true that the general standard of living is higher -than ever before, it remains true as ever that only the attuned spirit -can grasp and utilize the best. To argue otherwise would be cant." - -"So it seems to me," she said, with her air of direct simplicity. - -"As for this tragedy--for it is a tragedy almost Sophoclean in its -scope, as you will presently learn, my lips are sealed for the moment -beyond what I have told you. But you are right in your enthusiasm for -Mrs. Wilson. She is in touch with the temper of the world's -progress--according to her lights." - -She smiled faintly. "I still wish I were more like her." - -Gordon seemed for a moment to be pondering this assertion, then fixing -her with his eyes, said: "I believe you have never heard anything from -your husband since he deserted you?" - -"Nothing." - -"You do not know his whereabouts, nor whether he is alive or dead?" - -She shook her head. - -"More than three years have elapsed. So you are entitled to a divorce -in this State, if you see fit to claim it." - -Constance had listened in astonishment. His tone was so respectful -that she could not take offence. He seemed to be merely informing her -as to her rights; and though the topic had never been broached up to -this time between them, was he not her intimate friend? Nevertheless -she felt agitated. - -"It has never occurred to me that a divorce would be desirable," she -answered with as much formality as her dislike of artifice allowed her -to adopt. Then, yielding to curiosity or the inclination to break -another lance with him, she added: "Of what benefit would it be to me -to seek a divorce?" - -"Merely that the bond is already broken; what remains is a husk." - -"My husband may return." The response struck her as futile; still it -had risen to her lips as a convenient possibility. - -"That is true. But if he did return after what has happened, I should -think--I have no right to invade your privacy--" He stopped short, -evidently appalled by the sound of his own presumption. - -There was a brief silence. It would have been easy for Constance to -leave his inquiry where he had left it, but her love for the truth -caused her first to face the issue thus presented, and having solved it -by one full glance, to bear testimony to what was in her heart. Why -she felt this frankness necessary, she did not know, unless it were -that he was such a friend she did not wish him to think he had -offended. The interval was only momentary, but she appeared to herself -to have been standing speechless in the presence of the ashes of her -past for an awkward period before she said: - -"My husband said when he went away that we could never be happy -together. I do not wish him to return." - -She realized she was telling him her love was dead. It was the truth; -why should he not know? She heard him draw a deep breath. Suddenly -remembering the argument which had provoked his question, her mind flew -to it for refuge and sheltered itself behind it as a bulwark. - -"But that is no reason why I should seek a divorce. A divorce could -not alter the situation." - -He hesitated a moment as though he were about to continue the -discussion, then evidently thought better of it. "I simply wished you -to know your rights. Good-night." - - - - -XVII - -As she reached the landing upon which her own apartment opened, -Constance noticed that there was a light in Loretta Davis's room. -Loretta was now a full-fledged nurse. That is, she had completed her -course at the hospital, and was taking cases of her own. She had -already obtained two or three through the patronage of Mrs. Wilson, but -she happened to be out of work at the moment. It occurred to Constance -that she would impart her information to her neighbor. Loretta was -deeply interested in everything which concerned their benefactress. -Loretta had seen what was in the newspapers, and, since it was true, -why should not she know? This was a plausible excuse for gratifying -that strong desire to share her knowledge which assails every woman who -has something to tell. Had it been a real secret, Constance would have -been adamant. As it was, she did not appreciate until too late that -this was just the sort of subject which she and Loretta could not -discuss sympathetically. She was sorry for her; she did her best to -befriend and encourage her, and tried to like her; but though they got -on pleasantly, their point of view was apt to be radically different. - -Loretta opened the door. "Oh, it's you, Constance. I'd made up my -mind that someone had sent for me." - -"I'm sorry to disappoint you, Loretta. But I've something to tell -you--something you'll be distressed to hear. What you read in the -newspaper about Mrs. Wilson's daughter--the Waldos--is true." - -Then she repeated briefly what she knew, omitting reference to Mrs. -Wilson's visit to the office. Loretta listened with parted lips and an -expression in her usually matter-of-fact face curiously compounded of -solicitude and knowingness, as though commiseration and the glamor of -the scandal were contending forces. - -"I knew it was true; the newspapers wouldn't have printed it unless -there'd been something in it. My! but she'll feel bad, won't she?" - -"It will wound her terribly." - -"How did your boss find out?" - -Constance winced. Somehow the epithet jarred worse than usual, and she -felt that she could not stand it. The experiences of the evening were -on her nerves, though sympathy for Mrs. Wilson had thrust her personal -emotions to the back of her mind for more leisurely inspection. - -"You mustn't call him that, Loretta. It doesn't express him at all." - -Loretta looked surprised and laughed. "What's the matter? He is your -boss, isn't he?" she asserted. "Oh, well--your employer, Mr. Gordon -Perry, Esq., counsellor-at-law, if that'll suit you. My! but you're -getting red." - -Constance was annoyed with herself for having protested. Indeed, she -was biting her tongue for having brought on the interview. Now that -she had told the facts she shrank from further discussion. Yet it was -patent that Loretta had every intention of discussing the episode with -her. - -"There's no doubt about the truth of the matter, unfortunately," she -said, by way of answer to the original question. - -Loretta's large eyes began to rove. Then they suddenly fixed Constance -with the gleam of a transporting idea. - -"I'm going to see her, right off--to-morrow, I mean," she added, noting -the swift, barometric sign of disapproval which her words evoked, -though it was no more than a contraction of the eyelids. But, -suspicious as she was, she assumed that the only criticism had been -that she was going forthwith. - -From the moment Gordon Perry had spoken, Constance had been yearning to -hasten to Mrs. Wilson's side and offer the sympathy which she felt. -This had been her first impulse too, but a moment's reflection had -proved to her that to do so was out of the question; that it would be -an intrusion--a violation of that subtle code of nicety which governed -her benefactress's life. Mrs. Wilson was the last woman to betray to -the every-day world that she was sorely wounded. Was not endurance of -suffering without plaint and with an unruffled countenance one of the -tenets of her friend's ęsthetic creed? So what right had a person like -herself to invade her privacy? No, she must remain dumb until Mrs. -Wilson gave her the opportunity to speak or publicity offered an excuse -for flowers or some token of affection. Thus she had reasoned, and -hence her involuntary challenge to Loretta's confident announcement. - -"She'll expect me to be sorry for her, and I am," pursued Loretta, -complacent over her project. "I'll ask her all about it. Won't it -make a stir in the newspapers! There'll be a new picture of her, -sure." Thus reminded, she opened a table drawer and produced a large -scrap-book, which she exhibited to Constance with an air of -satisfaction. It was made up of newspaper illustrations and clippings -relative to the object of adoration--pictures of Mrs. Wilson in a -variety of poses, of her house, of her equipages, and of everything -which the reportorial artist had been able to reproduce; also scores of -allusions to her in print culled from the social columns. It was a -current, but a thorough collection, for Loretta had purchased back -issues in order to possess the newspaper features of the wedding -ceremonies. It was to these she now turned, staying her hand at a page -where the bride and her mother looked forth, ranged side by side in -festal attire. Loretta surveyed them contemplatively. "I never laid -eyes on the daughter. They're not much alike, are they? Perhaps -she'll be at home when I go. I'd give anything to see her." - -The scrap-book was not new to Constance, but it had been considerably -amplified since she had seen it last. She had never been able to -understand why Loretta had undertaken or prized it. Nevertheless, it -was a symptom of hero-worship in line with collections of the -photographs of adored actors by matinee girls, and was not to be -despised too heartily if she wished to remain sympathetic. But just -now Constance's mind was otherwise busy. She, too, adored Mrs. Wilson, -and she painfully depicted to herself the annoyance which this visit -with its threatened frankness would cause her divinity. - -"Don't you think, Loretta, that it would be better to wait a little -before you call?" she said, in gentle appeal. - -"Better? Why better?" - -"More appropriate. Mrs. Wilson will not feel like discussing the -matter just yet. If her daughter is with her, so much the more reason. -She must be very unhappy, and, if either of us were to visit her now to -offer sympathy, I'm sure she would regard it as an intrusion." - -Loretta bridled. "If I were unhappy, she'd come to see me. If my baby -were to die, wouldn't she come gliding down here to make me feel -resigned? Two can play at that game. She's been nice to me; why -shouldn't I let her know that I'm sorry for her? Besides," she added, -with a shrug of her shoulders and a bold look, "I'd like to see how -she'd behave--how she'd take it. I want to see the house again, too." - -Appalled as Constance was, she said to herself that she must not let -the shock of this lack of taste palsy her own effectiveness. To -upbraid Loretta would only confirm her in her intention. - -"Let us hope that there will be no publicity; that the matter will be -kept very quiet. If Mrs. Wilson is desirous of concealing it, surely -she would not be pleased to know that we had heard of it. I told you -because I know how fond you are of her, and that her secret would be -safe in your hands." - -"Publicity? Of course there'll be publicity." The suggestion of -concealment was obviously distasteful to her. "Why, I read it to you -in the newspaper. The reporters are certain to get wind of it in a few -days, see if they don't. And when they do, look out for head-lines and -half-page illustrations. The public have a right to know what's going -on, haven't they?" she asked in the assertive tone of one vindicating a -vested privilege. - -"Not things of this kind--private concerns, surely." Constance sighed, -realizing that it was only too probable that the newspapers, alert as -bloodhounds for the trail of a new social scandal, would come upon this -shortly and blazon it to the world. - -"Private concerns! Suppose a multi-millionaire's daughter tires of her -husband and runs away to South Dakota to get a divorce as quick as the -law allows, do you call that a private concern? I guess not, -Constance. The public--meaning such as you and me--naturally take an -interest, and object to its being hushed up. The multi-millionaires -have the money; we have the newspapers. We don't get any too much -that's interesting in our lives." - -"We don't know any of the facts; we mustn't prejudge Mrs. Waldo until -we hear what they are," said Constance, ignoring the philosophy of this -tirade in her dismay at the assumption. - -"That's why I'm going to see her. I want to find out the facts," said -Loretta, triumphantly. "I was only supposing. Like as not her -daughter has been ill-treated, and is running away because she has to. -If so, there's not much to worry about. She'll get her divorce, and be -able to marry again as soon as she has the chance." - -"But even so, Loretta, her mother must necessarily regard it as a -family misfortune, which she would not like to talk about. As to -marrying again, that would only make the matter worse for Mrs. Wilson." - -"Worse? Why worse?" - -"It would distress her, I'm certain. It would be contrary to her ideas -of the eternal fitness of things." - -Constance recognized her own sententiousness, which was due to the -perception that she had allowed herself to speak by the card without -sufficient authority. She had never discussed the subject or anything -analogous to it with Mrs. Wilson, and to put arguments in her mouth -would be surely a liberty. Yet her heart told her that the conclusion -which she had uttered, both in its substance and phraseology, stated -correctly Mrs. Wilson's position. What suddenly interested her was the -wonder whether it expressed her own convictions. - -Loretta lost no time in bringing this to an issue. "Supposing Mrs. -Waldo has been miserable and without fault, do you mean to tell me -she'd object to her daughter marrying the right man if he came along? -Why, wouldn't you be glad, after all you've been through, if the right -person came along--some decent man with a little money who could look -after your children?" - -"I?" To the ears of Constance the sound of her own voice resembled a -wail. Why should Loretta be so unfeeling as to make her personal -experiences the test of such a text? - -"Yes, you." - -Constance gathered her forces for a display of proper dignity. She -wished to be kind still, but conclusive. - -"Mine is not a case at all in point. I am not divorced from my -husband." - -Loretta plainly regarded this argument as flimsy, for she snapped her -fingers. "Pooh!" she said. "You could get a divorce any day you -like." She stared at Constance a moment, then rose from her chair, -planted her palms on the table and bent forward by way of emphasis with -an air both determined and a little diabolical. - -"Supposing your--your employer, Gordon Perry, Esq., counsellor-at-law, -was to make you an offer of his hand and heart to-morrow, do you mean -to tell me, Constance Stuart, that you wouldn't snap him up in a jiffy?" - -"It isn't a supposable case," replied poor Constance. One can slam a -door in an intruder's face; there is no such buffer for impertinent -speeches. - -"But supposing costs nothing. Of course it's supposable, why not? -You're the sort of woman who's twice as good looking now that you've -filled out as you were at nineteen. You know well enough you're -growing handsomer and more fetching every day. Only a blind man -couldn't see that." - -"That would have nothing to do with it even if it were true." - -"You may bet a man like that wouldn't marry you if you were plain. But -just supposing? I do believe you're getting red again." - -The victim, conscious of the fact, sought relief in merriment. She -jumped at the impulse to treat this indelicate effrontery jocosely as -the only possible attitude. "It's because you're so absurd, Loretta. -But since you seem to wish an answer to your ridiculous question----" - -The sharp note of the electric bell broke in upon the slight pause -which she made to weigh her words. - -"Someone for me!" cried Loretta, and she ran to the tube. But she -looked over her shoulder to say "Continued in our next! The offer is -good for a week." - -Constance felt the inclination to throw the scrapbook at her head. The -next moment she was vexed with herself for allowing her equanimity to -be disturbed, and began to rehabilitate the interrupted sentence. What -had she been going to say? It dawned upon her that, curiously enough, -she had not formulated the conclusion. Meantime Loretta was going -through the functions of whistling down the tube and receiving the -message. The surprising import of her next words roused Constance from -a brown study. - -"Talk of the devil! It's a messenger from Mr. Perry's. Somebody's ill -and I'm wanted. The boy's coming up." - -Somebody ill! It must be Mrs. Perry. The few moments of suspense -which elapsed before the district messenger-boy arrived seemed -interminable to Constance. Loretta had opened the door and the tramp -of his ascent sounded leisurely. When he appeared he thrust his hand -into his breast-pocket and produced a letter. - -"It's for Mrs. Stuart," he said, guardedly. - -"I'm Mrs. Stuart," said Constance. - -"I was told to ring at your bell first, and if you was asleep or didn't -answer the tube to try the other lady." - -Constance read the brief contents of the note with perturbation. It -was from Mr. Perry, informing her that on his return home he had found -his mother stricken with paralysis, that the doctor was in attendance, -and that a trained nurse was necessary. He had thought of Loretta; -would Constance send her if disengaged? - -"Oh, Loretta, dear Mrs. Perry is seriously ill--a stroke of paralysis. -Mr. Perry asks you to come to her at once." - -"I'll be ready to start in a few minutes," answered Loretta, briskly. - -"We will both go," added Constance, as though to herself. "There may -be something I can do." She turned to the messenger: "Return as -quickly as you can, and tell the gentleman that we--wait a moment." -She tore the sheet of note-paper apart and seating herself at the table -wrote hastily on the blank half in pencil: "Loretta will come at once, -and I shall accompany her. My heart grieves for you, my dear friend." -She folded it and bent down one corner. "Give him this," she said, -"and please make haste." - -At this time in Benham the doctrine that sewage must be diverted from -the sources of water supply used for drinking purposes was firmly -established, and the doctrine that not every woman able to read and -write is qualified to teach school was being gradually, if grudgingly, -admitted to be not altogether un-American. So swift had been the -change of attitude toward special knowledge that there had even been a -revolution in regard to the theory advocated by the original board of -trustees of the Silas S. Parsons Free Hospital that every woman is a -born nurse, and is competent, after a fortnight's training at the -utmost, to take charge of the sickest patients. Those familiar with -affairs in Benham will recall that the original ruling spirit of that -institution was Mrs. Selma Lyons, wife of United States Senator Lyons. -She disapproved of special training and was a strong champion of the -principle that an American woman with aspirations is more likely to be -fettered than helped by conventional standards, and that individuality -should be given free play in order to attain brilliant results. Yet -though this principle was reverenced at first in the employment of -nurses for the hospital, progress, that stern derider even of the -American woman, gradually set it at naught during the period when Mrs. -Lyons was resident in Washington and unable to give that close personal -attention to the affairs of the institution which she desired. It so -happened that after her husband's defeat at the end of his first term -through the hostility of Horace Elton, one of the financial magnates of -that section of the country, who harbored a grudge against him for -alleged duplicity when Governor, the President of the United States -threw a sop to the defeated candidate in the form of the Spanish -mission. Selma, who was still engaged in the effort to chastise her -enemies and to reėstablish what she regarded as true American social -principles, was sorry to leave Washington, but she found some -consolation in the thought of introducing American ethical standards at -a foreign court, especially of dealing a death-blow to bull-fights by -her personal influence. She was obliged, however, to relax -considerably her vigilance in regard to the hospital; even, to consent -to an enlargement of the board of trustees. This in its new form -presently adopted what the members regarded as modern methods. Mrs. -Wilson had been one of the recent additions to the body. Yet, under -her regimen, though every applicant for a nurse's diploma was obliged -to serve a rigorous apprenticeship of two years at the hospital, the -idea of scrutinizing the antecedents and previous education of the -young women offering themselves was still novel. Selma would have -regarded an inquiry of this kind as aristocratic and hostile to the -free development of the individual. Now--but a few years later--such a -system of scrutiny is in vogue in Benham; but at the date of Loretta -Davis's admittance to the Silas S. Parsons Free Hospital, though it -doubtless occurred to Mrs. Wilson that her candidate was not ideal, she -had not demurred. On the contrary, she had welcomed the opportunity of -giving the girl a chance to redeem herself in this field of usefulness. - -Similarly, though Constance might not have picked out her neighbor for -this particular service, she felt only thankfulness that Loretta was -disengaged, and that they were able to betake themselves at once to -Mrs. Perry's bedside. The old dame employed to look after the baby in -Loretta's absence was still available. Constance waked her, and -requested her to keep an eye on her own children in case she were away -all night. After their arrival at their destination, however, it was -soon clear to Constance that there was nothing she could do. Mrs. -Perry had not regained consciousness, and the physician in attendance -was non-committal as to the outcome. So Gordon informed them; briefly, -and Constance was left in the library to her own reflections while he -showed Loretta to her post. She was not sorry that she had come; but -much as she wished to remain, plainly she would be in the way. Loretta -was trained, and was the proper person to be in the sick-room. Yet she -would not go until Mr. Perry returned. He might have instructions for -the morrow concerning the changes in his plans consequent upon his -mother's illness. Besides, she wished to express more specifically her -desire to be of any possible service. - -Gordon returned before long. He put out his hand as though they had -not met already. "I thank you heartily for your message of sympathy," -he said. - -"There is no change?" - -"None. It is the beginning of the end." - -"Yet----" - -"Oh, yes, she may recover, thanks to the tireless methods of modern -science; but what would the only possible recovery mean to a woman like -her? Merely durance vile. No--one's natural impulse, of course, is to -hold on to one we love--to delay the parting at any price. The doctors -must have their way. But when I allow myself to think, I know it would -be best for her not to wake again. She would prefer it. You know -that." - -"Yes, she would prefer it," Constance murmured. "I must not keep you -from her," she added. - -"Please stay a little. I can do nothing. It hurts me to see her so -unlike herself, though the doctor says she is not suffering." He -glanced at the clock apprehensively. "It is getting late, I know; but -you must not go quite yet. I will telephone for a carriage presently. -I must give you directions as to what to do at the office to-morrow in -case I should not be there." Then, as though he divined what was in -her thoughts, he said, "I was glad when I knew you were coming. I said -to myself, 'if my mother should recover consciousness, the sight of -Constance at her bedside would do her more good than any medicine.'" - -He had never before employed her Christian name in her presence. The -use of it now seemed to her to put a seal upon the bond of their -friendship. He was become, indeed, a wise older brother whom it -delighted her to serve. - -"But you will come to-morrow?" he said. - -"If I may. I should like to be near her. I hate to feel helpless -where she is concerned." - -"We are both helpless. What a mother she has been to me! I owe -everything to her. Truth has been her divinity, truth--truth--and she -has had the courage to live up to what she believed." He paused. -Evidently his spirit quailed before the impending future. "And now she -is slipping away from me. The common destiny. But she is my mother. -I wonder where she is going--what is to become of all that energy and -clear-headedness. Modern science tells us that force never perishes. -It is as difficult to imagine my mother's individuality at an end as it -is to convince one's self in the presence of death that the grave is -not master." He sighed and turned to hide a tear. - - "I know not where His islands lift - Their fronded palms in air, - I only know I cannot drift - Beyond His love and care." - - -The lines rose to Constance's lips and she repeated them. They were -not symbolic of her church; rather they were a text from the universal -hope of mankind. She felt instinctively that any more orthodox -definition would have jarred upon him. - -"Thank you," he said, softly. "It is so easy in this age of -conscientious investigation to reject everything which will not bear -the test of human reason. Death is no greater a mystery than birth. -We know not whence we came, nor whither we go. But when the world -ceases to believe that there is some answer to it all worthy of our -aspirations, it will be time for this planet to become a frozen pole -again. You women are apt to bear that in mind more faithfully than -we," he added, lifting his eyes to hers. "Come," he said, "we must not -forget to-morrow; you have work to do. I must not be selfish." - -A few minutes later he put her in a carriage. In the morning -Constance, imbued with his speech, half hoped that she might hear that -Mrs. Perry was dead. But Gordon appeared at the office about ten -o'clock, announcing that the night had brought a change for the better. -His mother had smiled at him recognizingly, and faintly pressed his -hand. Though she was unable to speak, the doctor had encouraged him to -believe that she would do so. Constance perceived that he was in -better spirits, showing that, despite his words, he was rejoicing that -the parting had been delayed. - -The improvement in Mrs. Perry's condition continued for nearly three -weeks. One side of her body was completely paralyzed, but she regained -presently the power to utter a few occasional words, though her -enunciation was difficult to understand. At the end of the fourth day -from her seizure she was permitted to see Constance for a few minutes. -Soon after daily visits increasing gradually in length were sanctioned, -and Constance, after her duties at the office were over, was enabled to -spend an hour or more at the bedside of her friend before returning to -her own home. This was an agreeable arrangement to Loretta, for it -gave that young woman a breathing spell--the opportunity to take the -fresh air or to do whatever she pleased. Mrs. Perry evidently -delighted in Constance's attendance. She listened to reading with -satisfaction for a time, but later it seemed to suit her better to lie -quietly, her unmaimed hand resting in or near one of Constance's, while -the latter now and then broke the twilight silence by recounting the -news of the day. "I like the sound of your voice, my dear," she said -to Constance. "It is refreshing and musical as a brook." Occasionally -Gordon joined them, but he would never permit Constance to relinquish -her seat beside the bed in his favor. - -"My turn comes later," he said. "I tuck my mother up for the night." - -Mrs. Perry seemed to enjoy especially the days when they were there -together. She would turn her eyes from one to the other as though she -delighted in them equally. But only once did she make any reference to -what may have been in her thoughts concerning their joint presence. It -was in the third week of her illness, and what she said was spoken low -to Constance, though evidently intended to be audible to them both. - -"You must take good care of him, dear, when I am gone." - -It was one of her best days as regards articulation, so there was no -room for misunderstanding. The words were harmless enough and -Constance took them in the only sense in which they were applicable. - -"I shall stay with him as long as he will keep me, you may rely on -that, Mrs. Perry," she responded, brightly. - -A pleasant smile came over the old lady's face and she looked in the -direction of her son. Her mouth twitched. "Do you hear what she says, -Gordon?" There was a humorous twinkle in her voice, which doubtless -was not lost on him. His back was to the light, so that he had the -advantage of shadow to cover his mental processes. - -"I regard it as impossible that Constance and I should ever drift -apart," he said. - -His sphinx-like reply seemed to be reassuring to the invalid. She lay -like one serenely satisfied, and did not pursue the subject further. -As for Constance, she noticed the use by Mr. Perry of her Christian -name again, but it seemed to her only fitting and friendly. She did -not need his assurance to feel that they were not likely to drift -apart, but it was delightful to hear it from his lips. - -When Mrs. Perry's seeming convalescence had reached a stage at which -the doctor was on the point of sending her out to drive, a second -attack of her malady occurred and brought the end. She became -unconscious at once, and passed away within a few hours. On the -afternoon after the funeral Constance returned to the house with -Loretta in order that the latter might collect and bring away her -belongings. Gordon was closeted in his library alone with his sorrow, -and the two women moving noiselessly through the silent house made but -a brief stay. While they were on their way to Lincoln Chambers a -newsboy entered the street-car crying the evening papers. Loretta -having bought one made an ejaculation. Absorbed in what she had -discovered, she paid no heed at first to Constance's glance of -interrogation, but read with an avidity which seemed breathless. Then -she thrust the sheet under her companion's eyes, and pointing to a -column bristling with large headlines, exclaimed: - -"Here it is at last; a full account of the divorce proceedings with -their pictures, and a picture of her. It's a worse affair than anyone -imagined. It says Paul Howard and his wife are mixed up in it, and -there's something about a pistol going off at Newport. I haven't read -it all yet. But look--look!" - -Loretta's demeanor suggested not merely excitement, but a sort of -saturnine glee, so that Constance turned from the printed page toward -her as though seeking to fathom its cause, then back to the newspaper, -the capitals of which told their sensational story with flaring -offensiveness. - -"I won't read it now, Loretta. I'll wait until we get home. What a -cruel shame it is that the press has got hold of it." - -Loretta gave a questioning jerk to her shoulders. "I don't know about -that. I knew she wouldn't be able to hush it up. How could she expect -to? Besides--" She did not finish her sentence. Instead, she wagged -her head, as one in possession of a secret and grinned knowingly. -"I'll tell you something, some day. But not now--not now." Then she -reassumed control of the newspaper, saying, "Well, if you don't care to -read it, I do. There are three columns." She uttered the last words -as though she were announcing treasure-trove. - -But the ellipsis had left no doubt as to her attitude, which led -Constance to remark on the spur of the moment, "Neither of us would -like to have our misfortunes paraded before the world. I know what it -means; how it cuts and stings." - -Loretta looked up admiringly. "When your husband ran away?" - -"Yes." - -"And your picture appeared?" - -"No, not that, thank heavens!" - -Loretta laughed indulgently. "You're queer, Constance. You're so -scared of publicity. I shouldn't mind a bit having my picture in the -papers. What's more, I don't believe she does. This divorce had to -come out, sooner or later. I shouldn't wonder in the least," she -added, boldly, "if she lets the reporters know when she has a new -photograph taken. By the way, I went to see her." - -Constance knew at once what she meant, and the dismay and curiosity -inspired by the announcement rose paramount to her other feelings of -protest. - -"When?" - -"It surprises you, doesn't it? I went on two of those afternoons when -you sat with Mrs. Perry. And I saw her, too. The first time the -butler said she was engaged. He tried to shunt me off the same way -again, but I was too smart for him. 'Tell her Loretta Davis is very -anxious to talk with her on business,' I said, and the message came -back that she'd be down presently. Between my baby and my nurse's work -it wasn't hard to find the business, and then I told her plump I was -sorry to hear about her daughter. At that she colored up--you ought to -have seen her, and looked as though she had swallowed a steel rod. -Said she, 'I appreciate your desire to be sympathetic, Loretta, but -that is a subject I cannot discuss with anyone, please.'" Loretta -spoke mincingly, evidently aiming to reproduce Mrs. Wilson's -exquisiteness of manner and speech. "Said I 'I thought it might make -you feel better to talk it over with someone. It would me, I know.' -But it wasn't any use. She wouldn't, and she sort of froze me; and -pretty soon we both got up, I to go, and she to have me go. However, -now it's all out, and everyone will be talking about it." - -"But not with her. I warned you that she wouldn't like it." - -"Yes, you warned me. And I don't mind saying I think she needn't have -been so stiff, seeing I told her everything when I was in trouble. -Anyhow, I saw the house again and her, and now there's a new picture of -her in the paper, and the thing is going to make a big sensation, if -what's printed here is true, and I guess it is." She nodded her head -with a repetition of her air of mystery. "There are the facts you said -we ought to wait for." - -"But you seem almost glad," Constance could not refrain from remarking. -"You stated you went to see Mrs. Wilson because you were sorry for her." - -"So I did; so I am. I'm dreadfully sorry for her. I'd do anything to -help her, but I can't; and she won't let me show my sympathy. But -since the thing has happened, I'm glad it's exciting." - -Constance looked puzzled. "I don't think I understand." - -"I enjoy sensations, and big head-lines. They tone me up. You're -different, I guess." A sudden thought seemed to occur to her, for she -regarded Constance for a moment as a doctor might look at a patient, -then she thrust her hand into the pocket of her jacket and produced a -small bottle which contained white tablets. "When I feel low in my -mind--done up--I take one of these." - -"What are they?" - -"Something a friend of mine at the hospital recommended. They do the -work." While delivering this not altogether candid response, Loretta -unscrewed the stopper and emptying a tablet on to her palm swallowed -it, then offered the bottle to her companion. "Have one?" - -Constance shook her head. - -"Well, the next time you feel fagged, ask me for one." An instant -later she sprang to her feet, exclaiming, "Why, here we are! We ought -to get out." - -It was even so. The interest of their conversation had been such that -they had neglected to notice the flight of time or to observe where -they were. As the car was virtually at the point where they wished it -to stop, Loretta hurried toward the door, signalling to the conductor -as she did so; but she failed to catch his eye, for he happened to be -absorbed by an organ-grinder on the other side of the car from that on -which they were to get off. The car was moving slowly, and, though she -had her hand-bag, it was a simple matter to spring to the ground -without further ado. She did so successfully, landing a few feet -beyond the crossing. Constance, who was following close behind, heard -the voice of the conductor, "Wait, lady, until the car stops," and the -jingle of the bell, but she disdained to heed it. She jumped lightly, -but somehow the heel of her boot caught on the edge of the platform or -she slipped. At all events her impetus was thwarted, and instead of -landing on her feet, she pitched forward, striking her forehead on the -pavement. - - - - -XVIII - -When Constance came to herself she was in her own bed. It appeared -that she had been carried insensible into a drug store, and thence to -Lincoln Chambers, which were close at hand. A doctor presently -restored her to consciousness, but he gave imperative instructions that -she was to be kept absolutely quiet or he would not answer for the -consequences of the nervous shock. It was the second day before her -countenance expressed recognition of Mrs. Harrity, the pensioner who -looked after the children, and who sat sewing at her bedside. Even -then her senses shrank from every effort, and having learned by a -question or two that she had fallen, and that the children were well, -she lapsed into a comatose state. When she emerged from this she was -very weak, but her mind was clear. She could not bear the light, -however. Her eyes burned with a stinging pain whenever they -encountered it, and she was forced to submit to the physician's orders -that she remain in a dark room for a week. - -Her first inquiry after her mind was able to focus itself was whether -word had been sent to the office. She was told that Loretta had done -this by telephone; that Mr. Perry had called promptly, and that the -roses on the table were from him. Mrs. Harrity seemed proud of the -visit and the gift. - -"He told me to say you weren't to worry, and to take all the time you -need to get well. He's a pleasant-spoken gentleman, Mrs. Stuart, and -wanted to know everything the doctor had said." - -Mrs. Harrity was proud also of the fact that Loretta had been summoned -to attend a new patient. She was proudest of all of a piece of -intelligence, or rather prophecy, which Loretta had let fall the day -after the accident, which she hastened to impart to Constance the first -moment the latter appeared able to take it in. - -"She says as how you ought to get big damages from the railroad." - -"But I'm not much hurt, am I?" asked Constance. - -The dame perceived that she had not lived up to the doctor's orders. -Yet now she could conscientiously relieve her patient's natural -solicitude. - -"Mercy, no. You've broken nothing. You're only shook up. And it -hasn't hurt your good looks a mite. But," she added, still -conscientious, "the doctor says it's your nerves, and nerves are most -as good as bones before a jury, especially if one has a smart lawyer -handy as you have." - -Constance sat up in bed. Instead of being a comfort, as was intended, -the broad hint distressed her. - -"I don't wish any damages. It was my own fault. I jumped before the -car stopped. It was very silly. I only want to get well." - -The dread of a tedious convalescence was already haunting her reviving -faculties. Her absence from the office would be very inconvenient to -Mr. Perry, and confinement at home for more than a few days would prove -a disastrous inroad on her resources. She must hasten to recover. - -Meantime Mrs. Harrity was looking blank at the reception accorded to -what she had supposed would be a nerve tonic to the sufferer. She -replied stanchly: - -"She says different. She's ready to go on the stand and swear against -the company. You're all right, darling. Smell them flowers, and lie -down like a good girl. The doctor says you must keep still and not -talk." So saying, she pushed a little nearer the vase of roses, one of -which Constance had reached with her outstretched hand in the dark. -Constance's impulse had been to detach it from its fellows so as to -enjoy its fragrance at close range. But the larger opportunity -afforded her, or else the jogging of her purpose, changed her mind. -She bent forward and burying her face in the cool rose leaves inhaled -their rich perfume. - -"It was very kind of him to send them," she murmured, as though in -monologue. Then appreciating for the first time her weakness she sank -back upon her pillow. She said to herself that he was such a friend -that he would make the best of her absence for a week and by the end of -that time she would be herself again. But what a fool she had been to -jump; to take such a risk, she a grown woman with children! She ought -to have known better; she was getting middle-aged, and she must be more -staid. Still it was some consolation to know she had not broken her -nose. - -A note received from Mr. Perry twenty-four hours later and read to her -by her little daughter reassured her as to his indulgence in respect to -her absence. All her interest now became centred on a rapid recovery, -and she made sundry attempts to bring the doctor to book as to the date -when she would be able to resume work again, which he smilingly evaded. -She was conscious, however, of increasing bodily vigor, which was -comforting. The inability of her eyes to endure the light was her -chief discomfort, a condition which her physician appeared to her to -ignore, until he arrived one morning with a brother practitioner, who -proved to be an oculist, and who had brought with him some of the -apparatus of his specialty for the purpose of a diagnosis. Constance -could not bear the sphinx-like urbanities which followed the -examination. She felt possessed by a desire to have the exact -condition of affairs revealed to her. She lifted her head, and -addressing her own doctor, said: - -"I should like to know the truth, please. Do not conceal anything. It -will be much worse for me to find out later that something has been -kept back." - -The family physician looked at the specialist as much as to say that he -proposed to throw the burden on him, but he answered, "So far as your -general physical condition is concerned, you are practically well, Mrs. -Stuart. All the brain symptoms have disappeared, and there are no -lesions of any kind. It is now simply a question of nerves--and your -eyes. Dr. Dale can speak more authoritatively about the latter." - -Dr. Dale, the oculist, a man in the prime of life, with precise methods -and a closely cut Van Dyke beard, hesitated briefly, as though he were -analyzing his patient, then said with courteous incisiveness--"It is a -question of nerves, as Dr. Baldwin has explained. The nerves affected -in your case are those of the eyes. Since you have expressed a wish to -know the exact state of affairs, I take you at your word, Mrs. Stuart. -I agree with you that it is more satisfactory to know the truth, and I -am glad to be able to assure you that by the end of six months, if you -give your eyes entire rest, their weakness will be cured, and you will -be able to use them as freely as before." - -He had rather the air of conferring a benefit than of pronouncing a -sentence, and Constance received his statement in that spirit. - -"Thank you," she said. "I will be as careful as I can." - -"The condition of your cure," the specialist continued with polite -relentlessness, "is that you abstain from using them altogether." - -Constance experienced a thrill of concern. "Which means?" - -"It means, Mrs. Stuart, that you must not sew, read, write, or -undertake any form of application where the eyes are a factor." - -She could not believe her ears. "I am a clerk in a law-office. My -employment is stenography and type-writing," she said, tentatively. - -He nodded. Evidently he had been informed. "It will be impossible for -you to continue it." - -"But I must. I must do my work. My children are dependent on it." -Her tone suggested that there could be no answer to such a plea. - -"You cannot. If you do, you will become blind. I am very sorry for -you." - -The truth was out. She lay dumfounded. "Blind? Blind?" she echoed. - -"But there is not the least danger of your becoming blind if you obey -my instructions. You will be entirely cured, as I have said." - -There was a painful silence. Her sentence was too appalling to grasp. -There must be some escape from it. "Six months? Half a year?" - -"Knowing your necessities, I have given you the shortest period that I -dared consistent with perfect recovery. You will have to wear colored -glasses at first," he continued, seeking a business-like basis, "and -accustom yourself to do without them by degrees. I will bring them -to-morrow." - -She leaned back on her pillow bewildered. The trickling of a tear into -her mouth reminded her that she could not afford to cry, though but for -the presence of the doctors she knew that she would have burst into -sobs. Her plight demanded thought, not sorrow. But what could she do? -What, indeed? Yet, even as she asked herself the dreadful question, -she began to nerve herself not only against breaking down at the -moment, but against the threat of the future. She would keep a stiff -upper lip in the teeth of all the odds, and be able to manage somehow. -As thus she reasoned, swallowing the salt of her single moment of -weakness, she heard Dr. Baldwin saying: - -"You have had a very fortunate escape, all things considered. It might -have been much worse. You might have disfigured yourself permanently, -which for you," he added with a gallant bow, "would have been a serious -matter, indeed. As it is, you will be able to do everything as -formerly in another week, except use your eyes. Your friends will look -after you, Mrs. Stuart, and six months will pass much more quickly than -you expect." - -"I don't suppose they'll let me starve," she found herself saying, -though the notion of a return to alms almost strangled her effort at -buoyancy, so that the sprightliness of her tone competed with the water -in her eyes, as the sun struggles with the rain-pour just before it -clears up. But she remembered that the room was dark, and that they -could not see her tears. "Wasn't I a fool to jump off that car?" - -"You were unlucky, that's all. You mustn't be too hard on yourself. -It is the privilege of the young to jump, and you will jump again." It -was Dr. Dale who spoke. His enunciation imparted a cleansing value to -his note of sympathy, just as it had ruthlessly epitomized her tragedy -a few minutes before. - -"But I am not young; that is the folly of it," she protested. - -The oculist smiled. "Excuse me if I differ with you," said he. "You -have the best years of your life before you." - -They left her under the spell of this assertion, which lingered in her -mind on account of its absurdity, until in sheer self-defence she said -to herself under her breath that she was only thirty-one. The best -years of her life! And yet he knew that she was to be deprived during -half of one of them of the joy of seeing and the source of her -livelihood. What could he mean? - -In taking his departure, Dr. Baldwin, by way of showing his -friendliness, had volunteered to write to her employer. "I know Mr. -Perry," he said, "and I will explain to him the situation. Perhaps he -will be able to keep your place for you." - -Constance had interposed no objection. It would obviate the necessity -of an elaborate explanation on her part, and would, moreover, be a -guaranty of her later usefulness. The future would take care of -itself; it was the present which stared her in the face and demanded an -immediate answer. - -One solution of her quandary was offered to her a few days later. Dr. -Baldwin had given her permission to get up and resume her ordinary -household duties as soon as her glasses arrived, which proved to be the -next morning, as the oculist had promised. Consequently, she dressed -herself and sat with her children in the parlor that afternoon, and on -the following day rose, bent on facing the new problem of existence -with a clear brain and resigned spirit. If Mr. Perry would save her -place for her, so much the better. But obviously there was nothing for -her to do in the office until she was cured. She must, either through -her own energies or the advice of others, discover some employment -compatible with her infirmity. She might have to accept help at first, -for the money she had on hand would be needed to pay the bills of the -two physicians, which would necessarily be considerable; but with the -aid of her friends she would surely be able to find some handiwork -which would yield her enough to keep her treasures well fed and -decently clothed. Humiliating as it would be to have recourse to -others, it was clearly her duty to inform her friends of her -predicament, and invite their counsel. They would only thank her, she -knew, and she certainly was fortunate in having three persons, to whom -she felt at liberty to apply, so pleasantly interested in her welfare -as her employer, Mrs. Wilson, and the Reverend George Prentiss. Mr. -Perry was to be made aware of what had befallen her, without further -action on her part; but she would write to the two others, and soon, -for the thought was harassing her that her employer, in a spirit of -benevolence, might try to invent duties for her at the office, and give -her some sinecure in order that she might retain her salary. This -would be galling to her self-respect, and was not to be entertained for -a moment. As the possibility of it grew upon her she became quite -agitated; so much so that in the hope of heading off any such attempt -by him, she dictated to her daughter, that afternoon, letters to Mrs. -Wilson and the clergyman, informing them briefly what had occurred. - -Just after the little girl had returned from putting these in the -letter-box, and Constance was musing over a cup of tea, a messenger -with a note arrived. It was from Gordon Perry, and read by Henrietta -it ran as follows: Might he not call that evening? He had the doctor's -permission to do so; and she was to send a simple "Yes" or "No" by the -bearer. Now for it, she thought; he was coming to overwhelm her with -his cunning schemes for continuing her salary. Her first impulse was -to protect herself by delay; to ask him to wait a day or two until she -felt stronger. But this would be a subterfuge, and, excepting that she -dreaded his philanthropy, she yearned to see him. He would put her in -touch with the world again, from which she had been shut off too long. -"No" trembled on her lips, but the fear of hurting his feelings -occurred to her in the nick of time as a counterbalance to her dread of -being pauperized by him, and her natural inclinations found utterance. -"Tell Mr. Perry, yes," she answered, and her spirits rose from that -moment, though she resolved to be as firm as a rock on the threatened -issue. She ascribed his coming in the evening rather than the -afternoon to his being busy at the office, and as she put the children -to bed she reflected that it would be pleasant to have an uninterrupted -visit. She made her toilette as best she could with Mrs. Harrity's -aid, and she inwardly rejoiced again that she had not broken her nose. - -Gordon arrived about half-past eight. The cheer which his manner -expressed did not detract from its sympathy. It seemed to say that he -recognized and deplored her misfortune, but took for granted her -preference to face it smilingly, and not to waste time in superfluous -lamentation. At the same time, she could not but notice his eager -solicitude and the ardor of his bearing, which was slightly -disconcerting. Yet he made her tell him the details of the accident, -listening with the ear of a lawyer. At the close his brow clouded -slightly as though her story failed to coincide with his prepossessions. - -"You see I haven't any case, have I?" she said, divining what was -passing in his mind. She cherished a half hope that his cleverness -might still extract a just cause of action from her delinquency. - -"Not on your evidence." - -"So I supposed. Those are the real facts. I jumped before the car -stopped, though the conductor warned me, and I heard the bell." - -"That settles it; contributory negligence. But the trained nurse who -was with you tells a different story." - -"Loretta has been to see you?" - -"Yes. She came ostensibly for her pay night before last. But she -seemed very anxious to testify in court in your favor. She says the -conductor wasn't looking at first, and that he pushed you off the car -just as you were jumping." - -Constance shook her head. "She is entirely mistaken as to the last -part." - -"There is nothing to be said. It struck me that Miss Davis, unlike -most women, enjoyed the prospect of being a witness. It was a great -event to her, and she would be able to do you a good turn." He sat for -a moment pondering this diagnosis, then with a start, as though he had -been surprised in a trivial occupation, exclaimed: - -"But what does it matter whether you can get paltry damages or not? I -did not come here to consider that. I came to talk with you about your -future." - -He spoke the last words with a tender cadence which was partly lost on -Constance, for she sprang to the conclusion that the moment for her to -display firmness had arrived, and that he was about to broach a scheme -for retaining her in his employment. - -"I must find some other occupation for the next six months, of course. -I am forbidden to use my eyes for any purpose. I have written to Mrs. -Wilson and my rector, thinking they may know of some opening or vacancy -where I could work with my hands or do errands until my eyes are well." -Then noticing the curious smile with which he received this rather -impetuous announcement, and apprehensive lest he might be hurt by her -avowed reliance on others, she added: "And you, too, must be on the -lookout for me. You may hear of something which would suit me." - -"As for that, do you suppose that because your service to me is -interrupted I would not stand in the breach? That I would not insist -on continuing your salary until you were able to return to your post?" - -"I knew it would be just like you to wish to," she said, quickly, "but -I could not possibly allow it. That's why I wrote to Mrs. Wilson and -Mr. Prentiss," she added, not averse to having him know the real reason -now that it could serve her as a shield. - -Her naļve admission was evidently an agreeable piece of intelligence. -"I took for granted that your salary would continue. That was a matter -I did not have in mind in the least." - -"It can't, I assure you." - -He appeared entertained by her adamantine air. "Why not?" - -"It isn't an absence of a week or two," she said, trying to show -herself reasonable. "It will be six months before I am able to work -again." - -"A whole six months?" - -She met the mockery in his tone with quiet determination. "I could not -allow anyone to support me for that period. Do you not see that I must -find something to do in order to remain happy?" - -"Happy? You do not consider my side. Do you not see that a haggling -calendar account of weeks and months is not applicable to such service -as you render me? How would the satisfaction of saving the modest sum -I pay you compare with that I should derive from enabling you to get -well as rapidly as possible, untormented by painful necessities?" - -There was a strange gleam in his eyes. She looked at him wonderingly. -His rhetoric troubled her, and by dint of it he had managed to make her -scruples seem ungenerous. But she was unconvinced. - -"You would be obliged to pay someone else," she replied with cruel -practicality. - -"Enough of this," he said, impetuously. "It is absurd. I have -something very different at heart. When I spoke of your future just -now, Constance, it was to tell you that I have come here, to-night, to -ask you to be my wife--to say to you that I love you devotedly and -cannot live without you. This is my errand. It is not friendship I -offer, it is not pity, it is not esteem for your gentle, strong soul, -it is passionate human love." - -He paused and there was profound silence in the darkened room where -they could scarcely see each other's faces. Constance trembled like a -leaf. In a moment the whole card-board house of sisterly affection -fell about her ears, and she knew the truth. These were the sweetest -words she had ever listened to, though they stabbed her like a knife. -"Oh!" she whispered, "Oh!" - -"Is it such a surprise, Constance?" he murmured, ascribing her accents -of dismay to that source. "You must have known you were very dear to -me." - -The dimness gave her time to consider how she should deal with this -startling certainty, the music of which was dancing in her brain. The -meaning of his devotion was now so clear. Yet she had never guessed -either his purpose or the secret of her own disconcerting heart-beats. - -"I knew you were fond of me, but it never occurred to me that you could -think of me as a wife." - -"Why not? You are beautiful and charming as well as sweet and wise, -and I adore you." - -"I liked to feel that we should go on being dear friends for the rest -of our lives," she answered, tingling with the thrill which this avowal -caused her. - -From the tremor of her speech he was emboldened to regard the sigh -which followed this simple voicing of the exact truth as an ellipsis -hiding a precious secret. - -"Then you love me, Constance?" - -Whatever happened, why should he not know? Why should she deny herself -that ecstasy? - -"Oh, yes, Gordon, I love you dearly." - -"And you will be my wife?" - -"How can I, Gordon? You know I must not." There was gentle pleading -in her tone and a tinge of renunciating sadness. - -"I mean presently. As soon as you obtain a divorce?" - -The ugly word brought back reality. "Oh, no, we must put it from us. -It is a delightful vision, but we must dismiss it forever." - -"Why?" he asked, with the resonance of vigorous manhood. - -"Because it would be an offence." - -"Against what?" - -"The eternal fitness of things." This phrase of Mrs. Wilson's rose to -her lips again as a shibboleth. "I have made my mistake," she -murmured. "I must suffer the penalty of it." - -"Never!" he ejaculated. "It would be monstrous--monstrous." - -There was a momentary silence. While he gazed at her ardently he was -seeking command of himself so as to plead his cause with discriminating -lucidity. To her darkened sight imagination pictured a swift river of -fire flowing between them, across which they could touch their -finger-tips, but no more. - -"Do not think," he said, "that I have not considered this question from -your side. It has been in my thoughts night and day for months. The -idea of divorce is repugnant to you--though you have ceased to love the -husband who deeply wronged you. You shrink even more from marrying -again because your children's father is still alive. If he were dead, -the bar would be removed, and you would not hesitate. I appeal to your -common sense, Constance. What sound reason is there why you should -sacrifice your happiness--the happiness of us both?" - -"It is not a question of common sense--is it?" - -It was a faltering query which followed the assertion. "The question -is, what is right?" - -"Amen to that!" he cried. "Yes, right, right. And who says it is not -right?" - -She had been so sure she would never marry again that she had never -sought exact knowledge of her church's attitude in this regard, and yet -now she had her fears. She knew that no Roman Catholic could marry -again during the life of a divorced husband or wife, except by special -dispensation, and she was aware of the increasing reluctance of the -officials of her own church in this country to give the sanction of the -marriage service to the remarriage of divorced persons; but she had -never examined the church canon on the subject, for she had flattered -herself that she would never need to. Discussions of the topic which -she had listened to or read had played like lightnings around her -oblivious head, but had served merely to intensify her repugnance to -the blatant divorces and double-quick marriages, which she had seen -heralded from time to time in the daily press, and which had recently -been brought home to her with peculiar force by the events in Mrs. -Wilson's family circle. Now the flare of the lightning was in her own -eyes, and her brain was numb with the emotion of the personal shock. - -"Would Mr. Prentiss marry me to you?" she asked, seeking as usual the -vital issue. - -"Your clergyman?" His query was merely to gain time. But he loved -directness, too. "Suppose that he would not, there are plenty of -clergymen who would." - -"But he is my clergyman." - -Gordon moved his chair nearer, and bending forward, took her hand in -both of his. - -"Dearest, this question is for you and me to settle, not for any -outsider. It must bear the test of right and wrong, as you say, but I -ask you to look at it as an intelligent human being, as the sane, -noble-hearted American woman you are. The State--the considered law of -the community in which we live--gives you the right to a divorce and -freedom to marry again. Who stands in the way? Your clergyman--the -representative of your church. The church erects a standard of conduct -of its own and asks you to sacrifice your life to it. It is the church -against the State--against the people. It is superstition and -privilege against common sense and justice. I should like to prove to -you by arguments how truly this is so." - -"But I would rather not listen to your arguments now," she interposed. -"I am on your side already. My heart is, and--I think my common sense." - -His pulses gave a bound. "Then nothing can keep us apart!" he cried, -pressing his lips upon her hands and kissing them again and again. -"You are mine, we belong to one another. Why should a young and -beautiful woman starve her being on such a plea, and reject such -happiness as this?" - -She drew her hands gently away, and herself beyond his reach. "Ah, you -mustn't. If my church objects, it must have a reason, and I must hear -that reason, Gordon. I must consult with Mr. Prentiss--with him and -others. He is not an outsider. He was my friend and helper in the -bitterest hours of my life." - -"He will do his best to take you from me." - -She shivered. "How do you know?" - -"He cannot help himself. The canon of the Episcopal Church forbids a -clergyman to marry one who has been divorced for any cause except -adultery. The Catholic Church goes one step further and forbids -altogether the remarriage of divorced persons. It does not recognize -divorce. A large number of the clergy of your church are fiercely -agitating the adoption of a similar absolute restriction. The two -churches--and their attitude has stirred up other denominations--are -seeking to fasten upon the American conscience an ideal inconsistent -with the free development of human society." - -She caught at the phrase. "Yet it is an ideal." - -Gordon took a long breath. In the ardor of his mental independence he -seemed to be seeking some fit word to epitomize his deduction. - -"It is a fetish!" he said, earnestly. "It represents the -past--privilege--superstition--injustice, as I have already told you." - -"Oh, no," she murmured, "it cannot be simply that. You forget that I -am a woman. You do not realize what the church means to me." - -"I remember that you are an American woman." - -The remark evidently impressed her. She pondered it briefly before she -said, "I am, and I know how much that ought to mean. I wish to be -worthy of it." She appeared troubled; then putting her hand to her -head she rose, seeking instinctively an end of the interview. "I must -think it over. You must not talk to me any more to-night. I did not -realize how weak I am." Suddenly she exclaimed, "Ah, Gordon, you do -not understand all! I forsook the church once in the pride of my -heart. I wandered among false gods, and it took me back without a word -of rebuke for my independence. I must do what is right this time--what -is really right--at any cost." - -As she stood in the shadow, erect and piteous, but with the aspect of -spiritual aspiration in her voice and figure, stalwart as he was in his -sense of righteousness, he thought of Marguerite in the prison scene -when Faust implores her to fly with him. - -"Forgive me," he said, "for having tired and harassed you. It was my -love for you that led me on." He spoke with tenderness, and under the -spell of his mood dropped on one knee beside her and looked up in her -face. - -"You may tell me about that before you go," she whispered, like one -spellbound. - -"It is not much to tell--except that it means everything to me. It has -grown from a tiny seed, little by little, until it has become the -harvest and the glory of my manhood. Ah, Constance, we love each -other. How much that means. It sets the seal of beauty on this -commonplace world. It will transfigure life for both of us." - -She started. "The seal of beauty?" she murmured, as to herself. "If I -were but sure of that! What I fear is lest I mar the beauty of the -world, and so sin." - -"It was my mother's hope that we should marry," he said, reverting to -concrete ground. - -"I think so," she answered, faintly, pressing his hand. - -"And her idea was to do right." - -"I know." - -She sighed, then whispered, "You must go now." - -Rising from his posture beside her he prepared to obey. They stood for -an instant, irresolute, then, as by a common impulse, his arms opened -and she suffered herself to be clasped in his strong embrace. It -seemed to him as he felt her head upon his breast and her nervous, -wistful face looked up into his that his happiness was assured. But -she was thinking that come what might--and she was conscious of a -dreadful uncertainty in her heart--she would not deny herself this -single draught of the cup of happiness. It was a precious, sentient -joy to be thought beautiful, and to feel that she was desired for -herself alone by this hero of her ripe womanhood. So she let herself -go as one who snatches at escaping joy, and their lips met in the full -rapture of a lover's kiss. - - - - -XIX - -The news of the tragedy in her daughter's life--of the double domestic -tragedy, which included her nephew--came to Mrs. Wilson as an appalling -surprise. She had gathered from the tenor of Lucille's letters that -her daughter was not entirely happy; but her appreciation of this was -derived rather from what she read between the lines than from actual -admissions. It had never entered her head that there was danger of a -rupture between Lucille and her husband until the dreadful truth was -disclosed to her by her brother. From him she learned that Paul and -his wife had separated and were to be divorced because of the relations -between Paul's wife and Clarence Waldo. Carleton Howard added that his -son had not the heart to tell her himself before his departure for New -York, and had delegated him to break the intelligence. - -When the first wholesale mutual commiserations had been exchanged -between the brother and sister, Mrs. Wilson realized that she was -practically in the dark regarding Lucille. Paul's calamity was so -completely the controlling thought in her brother's mind that, though -he occasionally deplored the plight in which his niece appeared to be -left, he was evidently bent on working his way through the labyrinth of -his personal dismay until he could find a clue which would lead his -mind to daylight. After various ebullitions of anger and disgust, he -found this at last in the assertion that it was best for Paul to be rid -of such a wife; that he had never really fancied his daughter-in-law, -and that the only course was to obliterate her from their memory. She -had disgraced the family, and her name was never to be mentioned again -in his presence. This was an eminently masculine method of disposing -of the matter. After Mr. Howard had accepted it as a solution, he was -able to compose himself in his chair and to smoke. For the past two -days, ever since Paul had talked to him, he had been walking up and -down his library, champing an unlighted cigar, with the measured stalk -of a grim lion. Now his brow lifted appreciably. But his sister's -eyes fell before his aspect of dignified relief. His solution was of -no avail to her. It could not answer the distressing questions which -were haunting her. Why had not Lucille written? What did the silence -mean? She resolved that if she did not hear something in the morning -she would take the first train East, for might not the child be sobbing -her heart out, too mortified even to confide in her mother? Thus -speculating, Mrs. Wilson looked up to inquire once again whether Paul -had not said something more definite regarding his cousin. She had -asked this twice already, and on each occasion Mr. Howard had suspended -his cogitations in order to ransack his memory, but only in vain; which -was not strange, for Paul had taken pains in his conversation with his -father to avoid unnecessary allusion to Lucille, letting her appear, -like himself, an innocent victim of the family disaster. Mr. Howard -was now equally unsuccessful in his recollection. Yet while he was -speaking, the tension of Mrs. Wilson's mind was relieved by the receipt -of a telegram. Lucille was on her way from Newport, and would reach -Benham the following evening. - -Mrs. Wilson met her at the station. The mother and daughter embraced -with emotion, thus betraying what was uppermost in the thought of each. -But Lucille promptly recovered her composure, chatting briskly in the -carriage as though she were bent on avoiding for the time being the -crucial topic. On reaching the house she evinced a lively interest in -the supper which had been prepared for her, eating with appetite and -leading the conversation to matters of secondary import. Mrs. Wilson, -though burning to ask and to hear everything, held her peace and -bridled her impatience. It seemed to her that Lucille was looking -well, and had gained in social dignity, which might partly be accounted -for by the fact that she was a matron and a mother, partly by a slight -access of flesh; but the impression produced on Mrs. Wilson's mind was -that she appeared less spiritually heedless than formerly--a -consummation devoutly to be desired in this hour of stress. As she -watched her at table she noted with a mother's pride the tastefulness -of her attire, and the sophistication of her speech. For the first -time--much as she had longed for it in the past--the hope took root in -her heart that their tastes might yet some day coincide, and each find -in allegiance to the fit development of the human race the true zest of -life. Yet how could Lucille be so calm? How could she appear so -unconcerned? - -Lucille's mask, such as it was, was not lifted until she had been shown -to her room. "I will come to you presently, mamma," she said, and Mrs. -Wilson understood what was meant. When she came--it was to her -mother's boudoir and study--she had loosened her hair, and was wrapped -in a dainty pink and white wrapper. She established herself -comfortably on a lounge, and crossed her hands on her breast. Mrs. -Wilson was sitting at her desk obliquely in the line of vision, so she -had merely to turn her head on her supported elbow in order to command -her daughter's expression. So they sat for a moment, until Lucille -said: - -"Well, mamma, I suppose Paul has told you everything. Clarence and I -have separated for good, and I am on the way to South Dakota." - -There was a profound silence. In spite of the introduction the import -of the last words was lost on Mrs. Wilson. She was simply puzzled. -"South Dakota?" she queried. "Paul told me nothing. Your uncle----" - -"You know surely what has happened?" It was Lucille's turn to look -surprised. - -"I know, my child, that your husband has been false to you with your -cousin Paul's wife." - -"And both Paul and I are to obtain a divorce." - -Mrs. Wilson winced. "Your uncle intimated as much in the case of Paul. -I had hoped you might not think it obligatory to break absolutely with -your husband. Or, rather, Lucille, my mind was so full of distress for -you that I did not look beyond the dreadful present. You do not know -how my heart bleeds for you, dear." - -As she spoke, Mrs. Wilson left her seat, and kneeling beside the -lounge, put her arms around her daughter's neck. Lucille, grateful for -the sympathy, raised herself to receive and return the embrace, but her -speech was calm. - -"It is a mortification, of course; it would be to any woman. If he had -been faithful to me, I would never have left him. But we were mismated -from the first. We found out six months after our marriage that we -bored each other; and then we drifted apart. So there would be no use -trying to patch it up. We should only lead a dog and cat life. -Besides---" she paused an instant, then interjected, "I hoped Paul had -broken this to you, mamma--I want to be free because I am going to -marry again." - -Mrs. Wilson sprang back as though she had been buffeted. "Marry -again?" she gasped. - -Lucille spoke softly but with firmness. "I am going to marry Mr. -Bradbury Nicholson of New York." She added a few words as to his -identity, then with an emphasis intended to express the ardor of a soul -which has come to its own at last, exclaimed: - -"I'm deeply in love with him, mamma; and I never was with Clarence. I -thought I was, but I wasn't. This time it's the real thing." - -Mrs. Wilson rose and returning to her desk rested her head again upon -her supported elbow. She was stunned. The shock of the announcement -was such that she did not attempt to speak. But Lucille, having begun, -was evidently bent on making a clean breast of her affairs. - -"So I am on my way to Sioux Falls to obtain a divorce." - -"Why do you go there?" - -"Because it is one of the quickest places. Residence is necessary to -enable me to sue, and residence can be acquired by living there ninety -days. Then, too, the courts don't insist on very strict proof, so I -can obtain a divorce for neglect or cruelty, and avoid the -unpleasantness of alleging anything worse. I thought of Connecticut, -where the law allows a divorce for any such misconduct as permanently -destroys one's happiness and defeats the marriage relation, but my -lawyer said it would be simpler and quicker to go to South Dakota. -Clarence knows all about it, and is only too glad, and he has agreed to -give up all claim on baby." - -The reference to her grandchild plunged a fresh dagger into Mrs. -Wilson's heart. - -"Where is your baby?" she asked, sternly. She had already in the -carriage inquired for its welfare, taking for granted that its mother -had been unwilling to bring it on what had appeared to be a flying -journey. - -"At Newport. Two of my maids and baby are to join me here. I don't -wish to start for a week, if you will keep me, and, as there was -packing still to be done, and the Newport air is fresher so early in -the autumn, I told them to follow. You may keep baby here until I send -for her, if it would make you feel any happier, mamma." - -Mrs. Wilson made no response to this self-sacrificing offer. She was -asking herself whether it were not her duty as an outraged parent to -rise in her agony and, pointing to the door, bid Lucille choose between -her lover and herself. But would not this be old-fashioned? Could she -endure to quarrel with her own and only flesh and blood? Overwhelmed -as she was by her daughter's absolute indifference to considerations -which she reverenced as the laws of her being, Mrs. Wilson prided -herself on being equally a leader of spiritual progress, a woman of the -world, and an American. She recognized that it behooved her to display -no less acumen and tact in dealing with her personal problem than in -confronting the quandaries of others. She knew instinctively that -violent opposition would simply alienate Lucille and confirm her in her -purpose. It was obvious that their point of view was as divergent as -the poles. How could Lucille take the affair so philosophically? How -could she calmly regard the neglect and sin of her husband merely as -the logical sequence of the discovery that they were mismated, and find -a sufficient explanation for everything in the announcement that they -had bored each other? Yet Mrs. Wilson appreciated in those moments of -horror that it would be worse than futile to give bitter utterance to -her emotions. By so doing she would alienate her daughter and fail to -alter the situation. Though protesting with the full vigor of her -being, she must be reasonable or she could accomplish nothing. So she -put a curb upon her lips. There were so many things she wished to say -that for a spell she could not formulate her thoughts. She was -reminded that she appeared tongue-tied by hearing Lucille remark: - -"I was afraid that you would be distressed, mamma. That's why I didn't -write or consult you. You don't approve of divorce, I know. It's -opposed to your ideas of things. But I've thought over everything -thoroughly, and it's the only possible course for me." - -This complacency was disconcerting as a stone wall, and made still -plainer to Mrs. Wilson that the offender indulgently regretted the -necessity of explaining and vindicating such common-sense principles. - -"It is true, Lucille, that I disapprove of divorce on ęsthetic if not -religious grounds. It is an unsavory institution." She paused a -moment to give complete effect to the phrase. "It seems to me to -diminish spiritual self-respect, and to impair that feminine delicacy -which is an essential ornament of civilization. At the same time, if -you had told me that, on account of your husband's sin, you had decided -not merely to leave him, but to dissolve the bond, I should have -demurred, perhaps, but I should have acquiesced. I should have -counselled you to live apart without divorce, as I regard marriage as a -sacrament of the Christian church, but I should have accepted your -decision to the contrary without a serious pang. But you have just -told me, my child, that you are seeking a divorce from your husband -because you are mismated, in order to become as quickly as possible the -wife of another man, whom you profess to love. I cannot prevent you -from doing this if you insist, but as your mother, I cannot let you -commit what seems to me, from the most lenient standpoint, a gross -indelicacy, without seeking to dissuade you." - -In conjunction with her ambition to reason in a triple capacity, Mrs. -Wilson was well aware that the world demands promptness of decision no -less than wisdom from its busy leaders; that the public relies on the -past equipment of the lawyer or the physician for correct advice on the -spur of the moment. It was her custom to face confidently the problems -of life which others invited her to solve, as a surgeon confronts the -operating table, ready to do her best on the spot. She knew that the -consciousness of being rushed is part of the penalty of success, and -that half the effectiveness of a busy person consists in the ability to -think and act quickly. So now, face to face with her own dire problem, -her mind centred on the fit solution of her daughter's tragedy, she -relied on the same method, yearning to apply the knife, tie up the -ligaments and cauterize the heart-sorrow in summary fashion by virtue -of her past equipment. So she spoke with conviction, yet aware that -the problem presented had been hitherto for her mainly academic, and -now for the first time loomed up on the horizon of life as an immediate -practical issue. - -Pursuing her theme Mrs. Wilson singled out for urgent protest the one -point which stood out like an excrescence on the surface of the sorry -story, and put all else in the background--the projected hasty -marriage. Its precipitancy offended her most cherished sensibilities. -With all the sentiment and mental suppleness at her command she -endeavored to point out the vulgarity of the proceeding. How was it to -be reconciled with true womanly refinement? Was the holy state of -matrimony to be shuffled off and on as though it were a misfit glove? -She appealed to the claims of good taste and family pride. But, though -Lucille listened decorously, it was obvious that the effect of the -scandal of mutual prompt remarriages had no terrors for her. Or, -rather, when her mother paused, she disputed it, claiming that the -affair would be a seven days' wonder; that the world would speedily -forget, or, at least, forgive, if the new ventures proved successful; -that precipitancy in such cases was not novel, and that the people -whose social approbation she desired would consider her sensible for -putting an end to an intolerable relation and claiming her happiness at -the earliest possible date. - -From a wholesale plea of what she referred to as spiritual decency -directed against unseemly haste, Mrs. Wilson, sick at heart, began to -particularize, and at the same time enlarged her attitude so as to -disclose her innate feeling against divorce in general. She spoke of -the plight of the children concerned, and in alluding to her -grandchild, her tone was piteous. The thought seemed to give her -courage, so that when Lucille, who evidently had a pat response to this -contention ready, sought to interrupt, Mrs. Wilson raised a warning -hand to signify that she must insist on being heard to the end. She -dwelt upon the value of the home to human society, and in this appeal -she gave free utterance to her religious convictions, defending the -sacredness of the marriage tie from the point of view of Christian -orthodoxy. She spoke with emotion and at some length, though she had -never thought the matter out hitherto as a personal issue, she found -that she had in reserve a whole set of argumentative principles to back -her ęsthetic eloquence. She urged upon her daughter that if neither -good taste, family pride, nor maternal solicitude would restrain her, -she heed the teachings of the church, which had prescribed the law of -strict domestic ties as essential to the righteous development of human -civilization, and which regarded the family as the corner-stone of -social order and social beauty. Was her only child prepared to fly so -flagrantly in the face of this teaching? Would she refuse to reverence -this standard? As she evolved this final plea, Mrs. Wilson felt -herself on firmer ground. It seemed to her that she had welded all her -protesting instincts into a comprehensive claim which could not be -resisted, for, though emphasizing the obligations of the soul, she had -tried to be both broad and modern. She had not quoted the language of -Scripture--the words of Christ imposing close limitations, if not an -absolute bar on divorce. She felt that there was more chance in -influencing Lucille through an intellectual appeal to her sense of -social wisdom based on present conditions, though to the speaker's own -mind the modern argument was simply a vindication of the precious -inspired truth. But she dismissed the thought that her daughter was -regarding her as old-fashioned, and she spoke from the depths of her -being, so that when she ceased, there were tears upon her cheeks. - -Lucille had listened indulgently with downcast eyes. She was unmoved; -nevertheless, with nervous inappropriateness, she turned slowly round -and round the wedding-ring on her finger as she revolved her mother's -appeal. When the end came she remained respectfully silent for a -moment, but there was matter-of-fact definiteness in her reply. - -"You know, mamma, that you and I never did agree on things like that. -I don't recognize the right of the church to interfere, so I put -religion put of the question. As to injury to civilization, it seems -to me of no advantage to society, and preposterous besides, that two -persons utterly mismated, like Clarence and me, should continue -wretched all our lives when the law of the land will set us free. What -good would it do if I remained single?" - -"Live apart, if you like; but to marry again--and so quickly, Lucille, -is an offence both against the flesh and the spirit," said Mrs. Wilson, -tensely. "Good? It would help to maintain the integrity of the home -upon which progressive civilization rests." - -Lucille pursed her lips. "I shall have a home when I marry again. A -far happier home than before; and baby will be far happier than if she -grew up in a discordant household where there was no love and mutual -indifference. Besides, supposing I didn't marry again--supposing -Paul's wife did not marry again, what would happen? We should lead -immoral lives, as people similarly situated do in the Latin countries, -where the church forbids the marriage of divorced persons. It ought to -satisfy you, mamma, that there is not a word of truth in the story of -too intimate relations between me and Mr. Nicholson circulated at -Newport. I told him I should keep him at arm's length until I was -divorced and at liberty to marry him. I let him kiss me once, and that -was all. What would a woman in Paris or London have done? The church -there doesn't seem to mind what goes on behind the scenes, provided the -mass of the people is kept in ignorance." - -Mrs. Wilson had colored at the reference to calumniating rumors. It -was clear, now, why Paul had preferred to speak by proxy. Could it be -her own daughter who was claiming credit for such forbearance? Her -first impulse was to inquire what conduct had given rise to the more -serious imputation, but she shrank from the question. It was Lucille -who spoke first. - -"I assure you, I expect to have a very charming home, and, if I have -more children, to bring them up well. In a year or two the hateful -past will seem only a nightmare. Why should you or the church seek to -deprive me of happiness? In my individual case our--your church would -marry me because my husband had been unfaithful, provided I procured a -divorce on that ground--which I do not intend to do. But I am -defending myself on general principles. As your daughter you would -wish me to have the courage of my convictions." - -Mrs. Wilson sighed. This appeal to her independence was discouragingly -genuine. "Then, where do you draw the line?" she asked, repeating a -formula. - -"As to divorce?" Lucille shrugged her shoulders. "The courts decide -that, I suppose. I asked what the law was, and the lawyer told me." - -Mrs. Wilson groaned. "The courts! And, accordingly, you apply to the -court which will grant you a divorce most speedily." - -"And with the least possible unpleasant procedure. Certainly, I wish -to be married as soon as possible." - -"The law must be changed." Mrs. Wilson clasped her hands energetically. - -"Very likely, mamma. Now we are on sensible ground. But if the law -were made more strict the church would still object. So it wouldn't -make much difference from your point of view." - -There was a touch of complacent paganism in the tone of this last -remark which fused Mrs. Wilson's poignant emotions to a fever point. - -"It crucifies renunciation. It is individualism run mad. Child, -child!" she exclaimed, "do not be too sure that easy-going rationalism -is the answer to all the problems of the universe. The time will yet -come when you will recognize what ideals mean--when your eyes will be -opened to the unseen things of the spirit. Before you take this step I -beg of you to talk with Mr. Prentiss." - -Lucille shook her head, but her reply was unexpectedly humble. She -avoided an opinion regarding the prophecy, but her words disclosed that -she wished her mother to perceive that her soul had its own troubles, -and was not altogether self-congratulatory in its processes. - -"Of course I would give anything if Clarence and I had not fallen out, -and our marriage proved a failure. I can see that such an experience -takes the freshness from any woman's life. It would be of no use, -however, for me to see Mr. Prentiss. We should differ fundamentally. -I do not regard marriage as a sacrament, he does. You see I have -considered the question from all sides, mamma." - -"You regard it as a contract, I suppose," said Mrs. Wilson, pensively. - -"Yes; the most solemn, the most important of contracts, if you like, -but a contract." Lucille was trying to be reasonable, but her sense of -humor suddenly getting the better of her filial discretion, she added: - -"Why, of course, it is simply a contract. Everyone except clergymen -regards it so nowadays. If Clarence had died, I could marry again; why -shouldn't I be just as free, when he has been untrue to me, to regard -our marriage at an end--and----" - -Mrs. Wilson put up her hand. "I am familiar with the argument. For -adultery, perhaps, yes; but for everything else, no. And the Roman -Church forbids it absolutely." She reflected a moment, then, as one -who has worked out vindication for an ancient principle by the light of -modern ideas, she added, impressively, "It may well be, that from the -standpoint of the welfare of the home--the protection of human society -against rampant selfish individualism--the oldest church of all was -wise, and is wise, in insisting on adherence to the letter of the words -of Christ as best adapted to the safety of civilization. And that, -too," she continued, significantly, "even though the souls affected sin -in secret, because they cannot override the law. I do not say," she -added, noticing the surprise in her daughter's face, "that this winking -of the church is defensible; but I submit that the consequences can be -no worse than those resulting from the flood-tide of easy divorce, the -fruit of unbridled caprice." - -"And what do you say to the attitude of the Church of England, of which -our Episcopal Church is an offshoot. An English woman in Newport told -me the other day that a wife cannot obtain a divorce from her husband -unless infidelity be coupled with cruel and abusive treatment, though -the contrary is true in case of a man. A husband can have his affairs, -provided he does not make them public or beat his wife, but she must -toe the mark. And in England the law of the church is the law of the -land." - -Mrs. Wilson pondered a moment. "Our Episcopal Church sanctions no such -distinction. But, after all, woman is not quite the same as man. Her -standard is different; she still expects to be held to a subtler sense -of beauty and duty in matters which involve the perpetuation of the -race. The English rule seems old-fashioned to us, for we insist on -equal purity for the husband and the wife as essential to domestic -unity. Yet the framers of that law were wise in their day; wise, -surely, if the doctrine of loose marital bonds is to imperil the -permanence of the institution we call the family." - -"But I fail to see the advantage to human society of any family the two -chief members of which are at daggers drawn, and mutually unhappy." - -Mrs. Wilson recognized that the gulf of contradiction which yawned -between them was bottomless, and not to be bridged. We learn with -reluctance that each generation is a law unto itself. Yet she said, as -a swan song, "The Episcopal Church and also the Roman Catholic Church -stand for, and reverence, the ideals of beauty, of imagination, of -aspiration. They abhor spiritual commonness. They forget not the -words of the proverb: 'Keep thy heart with all diligence, for out of it -are the issues of life.' Divorce is a device of mediocrity and dwarfed -vision. It is a perquisite of commonness." - -The phrase made Lucille start, and she sat troubled for a moment. To -be adjudged common was the most disconcerting indictment which could -have been framed. But reflection was reassuring. She answered -presently. - -"I'm sure it won't make any difference in my case; everybody I care -about will call on me just the same." - -Meanwhile, under the shock to her convictions, Mrs. Wilson had bowed -her face on her hands on her desk, and hot tears moistened her palms. -Lucille watched her nervously, then rose and went to her, and put her -arm about her. "You mustn't feel so badly, mamma. It will come out -all right: I know it will. I am certain to be happy--and though you -may not think it, I am much more serious than I used to be. Of course, -I wouldn't belong to any other church than the Episcopal; all the -nicest people one knows are Episcopalians now. As you say, that and -the Roman Catholic are the only ones which appeal to the imagination." - -Mrs. Wilson's tears flowed faster at this demonstration of sympathy. -She accepted and was soothed by the caresses, but she was ashamed of -and stunned by her defeat, and could not reconcile herself to it. She -would make one effort more. - -"Since you will not permit Mr. Prentiss to remonstrate with you," she -said, "you will, at least, talk with your uncle?" - -Lucille reflected. She had not forgotten the diamond tiara with which -her uncle had presented her as a wedding present, the crowning act of -many splendid donations, though to have only one tiara had already -become a sign of relative impecuniosity in the social circle in which -she aspired to move. The wife of a genuine multi-millionaire was -expected to have as many tiaras as she had evening dresses. Lucille -was fond of her uncle, and she still wished to appear what she -considered reasonable. "He could not alter my determination, mamma. -But if Uncle Carleton wishes to talk with me, I shall feel bound to -listen," she responded. - -Mrs. Wilson felt encouraged by the first effect on her brother of the -announcement of Lucille's plans. From Paul's report, Mr. Howard had -assumed that his niece, like his son, was simply a victim of the -distressing double-tragedy, and the news of Lucille's projected hasty -divorce with a view to immediate remarriage offended his sense of -propriety and evoked at once a fiat no less explicit than his earlier -declaration that the sooner Paul's nuptial knot was cut, and the -wretched business terminated, the better. His present words--that such -indecorous proceedings were not to be tolerated for a moment--were -uttered with the deliberate emphasis which marked his important -verdicts--his railroad manner, some people called it--and conveyed the -impression of a reserve force not to be resisted with impunity. The -interview between him and Lucille took place in the evening, and lasted -nearly an hour. Mrs. Wilson was not present. At its close she heard -her daughter re-enter the house through the private passageway and go -up-stairs. Shortly after, her brother joined her. He sat for a few -moments without speaking, as though reviewing what had occurred, then -said, with the plausible air of one claiming the right to revise a -judgment in the light of having heard the other side of the issue: - -"Apparently we have to decide whether we prefer that Lucille should -marry young Nicholson as soon as the law allows, or that she should -continue to receive his marked attentions, which have already inspired -compromising rumors, happily baseless. It seems that the object of her -infatuation--a circumstance which she did not state to you--is -anxious--in fact, hopes, to obtain one of the minor diplomatic -appointments. His father, as you know, is president of the Chemical -Trust and intimate with some of the influential Senators. Should I -intervene in his behalf with the authorities at Washington, the -probabilities of his obtaining the position, already excellent, will be -improved, provided, of course, there is no scandal. If we could shut -Lucille up--confine her by summary process for six months, until she -had time to reflect--she might change her attitude. At any rate, we -should avoid the precipitancy which is the most objectionable feature -of the affair. But the girl is a free agent. We cannot prevent her -from going to South Dakota if she insists, and she does insist. She -refuses to wait the three years requisite to obtain a divorce for -desertion here; and were she to allege what the newspapers are pleased -to call the statutory offence, the proof required by our court would be -exceedingly painful. She prefers a more accommodating jurisdiction, -where fewer questions are asked, and the tie is promptly dissolved. So -on the whole----" - -He paused to choose his phraseology, and his sister, guessing its -substance, interposed: - -"Then you sided with her?" - -"On the contrary, I opposed her strenuously. I expressed my -disapproval in positive terms. But it became evident to me that she is -in love with this young man and determined to marry him, and from every -point of view I prefer the sanction of the law to clandestine illicit -relations. Would you prefer to have her abstain from a divorce and -live abroad with Bradbury Nicholson? That is what she intimated would -happen if she followed our wishes." - -Mrs. Wilson groaned. "And to think that this is the reasoning of my -daughter!" - -"I will do her the justice to say," continued Mr. Howard, joining the -points of his fingers, "that she talked quietly and with some -discrimination. It troubles her greatly that you are distressed. I -disapprove of her conduct, but I was pleased on the whole with her -mental powers." - -"Yes. She is cleverer than I supposed," murmured Mrs. Wilson. "So you -gave in?" - -"Not at all. We agreed to differ. I presume you did not wish me to -quarrel with her?" - -"Oh, no. We must never do that." - -"Exactly. In the course of our discussion she asked me if I thought -she ought to remain a widow all her days, and, as a reasonable human -being, I was obliged to admit that there was much to be said on her -side." - -"A widow! She is not a widow." - -"She chose the word, not I. She tells me that you have already -discussed with her the religious--the sentimental side of the question." - -"And failed utterly." - -There was a silence, which was broken by the banker. "I advise you, -Miriam, to make the best of a painful situation. There are only two -courses open: to disown her, or to let her follow her own course, and -put the best front on it we can. After all, she is only doing what -thousands of other women in this country----" - -"Ah, yes!" cried Mrs. Wilson. "And with that argument what becomes of -noble standards--of fine ideals of life? I almost wish I had the moral -courage to show myself the Spartan mother, and to disown her." - -"Oh, no, you don't. You would only make yourself miserable." Having -discovered that he had been checkmated, it was a business maxim with -Mr. Howard to accept the inevitable and clear the board of vain -regrets. He set himself to counteract these hysterical manifestations -of his sister. "Besides, it would do no good in this case to cut off -the revenue, for Nicholson has plenty for them both. To disinherit -one's children is an antiquated method of self-torture." - -"I had no reference to money," answered Mrs. Wilson with a gesture to -express disdain for the consideration. "I was thinking of my love as a -mother." - -"You cannot help loving her, whatever happens," answered her brother -significantly. - -Mrs. Wilson acknowledged the force of this comment by a piteous stare. -She forsook the personal for the philosophic attitude. "But if this -loose view of the marriage tie is to obtain, where is it to end? How -long will it be before we imitate the degeneracy of Rome? We are -imitating it already." - -"I made a similar remark to Lucille. I reminded her that the ease and -frequency of divorce were among the causes of the decline of Rome. Her -reply was that we are Americans, not Romans. Of course, there is -something in what she says. Our point of view is very different from -theirs." Mr. Howard felt of his strong chin meditatively. - -"But where is it to end?" repeated Mrs. Wilson in a tragic tone. - -He shook his head. "It is an abuse, I admit; especially as -administered in some of our States. Presently, when we get time, we -Americans will take the question up and go into it thoroughly." - -The hopeless incongruity of this reply from Mrs. Wilson's point of view -put the finishing touch to their conversation. It was obvious to her -that she could not expect true sympathy or comprehension from her -brother. It was clear that he was satisfied with opportunist methods, -and that the precise truth had no immediate charms for him. - -Rebuffed in respect to the support of both her champions, Mrs. Wilson -felt strangely powerless; almost limp. She made no further appeal to -her daughter; the discussion was not resumed, but when the baby -arrived, she reminded Lucille of the proposal that she keep possession -of her grandchild during its mother's sojourn in South Dakota, and -accepted it. This was some comfort, and Mrs. Wilson remained in a -trance, as it were, seeking neither sympathy nor outside suggestion -until after the evil day of Mrs. Waldo's departure. - -Not until then did she send for Mr. Prentiss. That the rector could do -nothing to thwart the programme outlined by Lucille was clear, and she -had dreaded the possibility of his advising an attitude on her part -which would induce complete estrangement from her daughter. When he -came she was relieved that he made no such suggestion. He seemed, like -herself, overwhelmed with dismay, and, after he had heard her story, -equally conscious of helplessness in the premises. Indeed it resulted -that Mr. Prentiss, having realized that he could be of no avail in the -particular emergency, turned from the shocking present to the future. -Lucille was beyond the pale of influence (though he declared his -intention of writing to her), but this painful example would be a fresh -spur to the church to take strong ground against the deadly peril to -Christian civilization involved in playing fast and loose with the -marriage tie. Mr. Prentiss glowed with the thought of what he could -and would put into a sermon. Consciousness of the abuse had for some -time been smouldering in his mind, and he reflected that it was time -for him to imitate the example of other leaders of his sect by -undertaking a crusade against indiscriminate divorce. Appalled as he -was by the behavior of his friend's daughter, he reverted--but not -aloud--to his previous opinion that it had been a godless marriage. -Hence there was less occasion for surprise, and the instance in -question lost some of its pathos as a consequence. But it provided him -with a terrible incentive for saving others from the pitfall which had -engulfed this self-sufficient and worldly minded young woman. His zeal -communicated itself to Mrs. Wilson--for he did not fail in due -manifestation of personal sympathy--and when he left her at the end of -a visit of two hours her favorite impulse toward social reform was -already acting as a palliative to her anguish and disappointment as a -mother. - -A few days later her brother informed her that Paul's wife had refused -to wait the three years necessary to entitle the one or other of them -to institute dignified divorce proceedings, on the ground of desertion, -in the State where her husband had his domicile, and that she had gone -to Nebraska to pursue her own remedy. Mr. Howard, though obviously -disgusted, finally dismissed the matter with a sweep of his hand, and -the utterance, "I guess, on the whole, the sooner he is rid of her the -better." But this apothegm, which for a second time did him service, -only increased his sister's dejection. The disgrace of the family -seemed to stare her in the face more potently than ever. Following -within a few weeks of this information came the disclosures in the -newspapers of the double divorce with their sensational innuendoes as -to what had occurred at Newport. For three days she kept the house, -too sick at heart to attempt to simulate in public the veneer of an -unruffled countenance. Then she visited Gordon Perry's office, and -consulted him as to the feasibility of putting some legal obstacle in -the way of her daughter's procedure; but learned from him, as she had -feared, that she was powerless. When she resumed her ordinary -avocations she feared lest the shame she felt should mantle her cheek -and impair the varnish of well-bred serenity. It was while she was in -this frame of mind that she was accosted by Loretta, and the effect of -the bald remarks was as though someone had invaded her bosom with a -rude cold hand. They froze her to the marrow, and while, on second -thought, she ascribed the liberty to ignorance, she felt disappointed -at the evolution of her ward. Such lack of delicacy, such inability to -appreciate the vested rights of the soul argued ill for Loretta's -progress in refinement. There was no second invasion of Mrs. Wilson's -privacy. It seemed to her, as the days passed, that she had been -through a crushing illness, and she felt the mental lassitude of slow -convalescence. The receipt of Mrs. Stuart's brief letter informing her -that she had been injured and was in need of counsel was a sudden -reminder that she had allowed her personal sorrow to render her -selfishly heedless of all else. It served as the needed tonic to her -system. She swept away the cobwebs of depression from her brain, and -with a firm purpose to resume her place in the world despatched -forthwith a sympathetic note and two bunches of choice grapes to the -invalid, and on the following morning gave orders to her coachman to -drive her to Lincoln Chambers. - - - - -XX - -The sight of Constance's colored glasses stirred Mrs. Wilson's -sensibilities, already on edge. - -"You poor child!" she exclaimed, advancing with emotional eagerness, as -the culmination of which she drew the young woman toward her and kissed -her. This was a touch of bounty beyond Mrs. Wilson's ordinary reserve, -but in bestowing it she was conscious that the recipient had deserved -it, and consequently she was pleased at having yielded to the impulse. -Besides having noticed with satisfaction the gradual change in -Constance's appearance--both her increasing comeliness and tasteful -adaptiveness in respect to dress--it distressed her that her ward's -charm should be marred by so unęsthetic an accompaniment. - -"What does this mean? What grisly thing has happened?" - -Constance was touched by the embrace. She had passed a sleepless night -confronting her exciting problem. Already this morning she had -listened to the passages in those chapters of the first three gospels, -Matthew xix, Mark x and Luke xvi, in which are set forth Christ's -doctrine concerning divorce and remarriage. As soon as the children -had gone to school, she had taken her concordance of the Bible from the -shelf, and heedless of Mrs. Harrity's wonder, had pressed the old woman -into service to find and read to her the texts in question. Constance -had not considered these for years, and had only a general remembrance -of their phraseology, but in the watches of the night her thoughts had -turned to them as traditional spiritual sign-posts with which she must -familiarize herself forthwith. Just before Mrs. Wilson's entrance she -had taken up her broom, hoping that, while she performed her necessary -housework, she might thresh out the truth from her bundle of doubts. -What if the truth meant the sacrifice of bright, alluring prospects for -her children, and of her own new, great happiness? Could it then be -the truth? More than ever did she feel the need of counsel and -sympathy. At the appearance of her benefactress her pulses bounded, -and the appeal in her glad greeting doubtless gave a cue to the -visitor's initiative. The gracious kiss on her cheek, so unexpected -and so grateful, added the finishing touch to her overstrained nerves, -and she burst into tears. - -Mrs. Wilson folded her in her arms and encouraged her to sob. Such -philanthropy seemed to bless the giver no less than the receiver. She -had arrived in the nick of time to be of service. - -"There, there," she said, "you are suffering; you should be in bed. -You must tell me presently everything, and I will send my own doctor to -prescribe for you." So, presuming the cause of this distress, she -stroked the back of Constance's hair and held her soothingly. - -For some moments Constance made no attempt to check her convulsive -mood, but with her head bowed on the friendly shoulder wept -hysterically. When the reaction came she drew back dismayed at having -lost her self-control, and as she wiped away her tears and hastily -regained her ordinary dignity of spirit, exclaimed, "It isn't that. I -have been in bed--I had a fall in the street; but I am quite strong -again except for my eyes. I am forbidden to use them for six months. -But otherwise I am as well as ever. And I have had a competent doctor." - -"Not use your eyes for six months?" - -There was incredulity no less than horror in Mrs. Wilson's tone. -Constance was herself again by this time. She made her visitor sit -down, and she succinctly described the circumstances of the accident -and the specialist's examination, so that the authenticity of his -verdict and the reality of her predicament were patent. Mrs. Wilson -rose gladly and promptly to what seemed to her the occasion. - -"You poor child. It is cruel--disastrous. But give yourself no -concern. I shall claim my prerogative as a warm friend to see that you -and yours do not suffer until the time when you are able to resume your -regular work. Your employer, Mr. Perry, what has he said to this? His -necessities oblige him to let you go, I dare say." - -"On the contrary, he has been kindness itself. He wished me to remain; -he would have invented occupation for me. Then I wrote to you and Mr. -Prentiss. It occurred to me that you might think of something genuine -which I could do for a living until I could use my eyes." Constance -paused. Her heart was in her mouth again at the approach of the -impending revelation. - -"Leave it all to me. There will not be the slightest difficulty. I -will find just the thing." Then, suspecting that Constance's troubled -look was due to suspicion of this blithe generality, Mrs. Wilson bent -forward and added beseechingly, "You will let me help you this time, -won't you?" - -"Indeed I will--if--if you wish," answered Constance with a sweet -smile. So at this heart-to-heart appeal she stripped herself of her -pride as of a superfluous garment and cast it from her. Then she said, -"You don't understand. Everything has changed since I wrote to you -yesterday afternoon. I need your help, your advice, Mrs. Wilson, more -than I ever needed it before. You do not know how thankful I was when -I saw you at the door. I have been trying to bring myself to the point -ever since. I think I can talk composedly now. Last evening my -employer, Mr. Gordon Perry, asked me to become his wife." - -The instinctive thrill which the disclosure of unsuspected romance -inspires in every woman seized Mrs. Wilson, and with it swift -realization of what a piece of good fortune from every point of view -had befallen her deserving ward. Constance's tears and need for -counsel suggested but one thing, a situation old as the hills, but like -them always interesting. Jumping at this hypothesis, Mrs. Wilson, -eager to show that she had comprehended in a flash, responded, "And you -do not love him?" - -"That is the pity of it; I love him with all my heart." - -Then Mrs. Wilson remembered. She had been so accustomed to think of -Constance as alone in the world, that in the first glow of interest she -had overlooked the crucial fact in the case. The recollection of it -was disconcerting in a double sense, for she suddenly found herself -confronting the same dire problem from the haunting consideration of -which she had just emerged. But though her first resulting emotion was -similar to that which one feels at re-encountering an obnoxious -acquaintance, from whom one has escaped, that which followed was a -sense of contrast between the two points of view presented by the -separate situations, which culminated in the animating thought that -here at last was a soul alive to its own responsibilities. Meanwhile -she heard Constance say by way of interpretation: - -"My husband is still living so far as I know, and I have never been -divorced from him." - -Mrs. Wilson put up her hand. "I know, I know, my dear. Pardon the -momentary lapse. I am entirely aware of your circumstances. And there -is no need, Constance, to explain anything. Believe me, I appreciate -all; I understand the meaning of your agitation, I recognize the -luminous reality of the issue with which you have been brought face to -face." - -Constance drew a deep breath. It was a relief to her to be spared -preliminaries and to pass directly to the vital question. - -"It would mean so much for my children." - -To Mrs. Wilson's ear the simple words were imbued with a plaintive but -courageous sadness, suggesting that the speaker was already conscious -that this plea for her own flesh and blood, although the most -convincing she could utter, fell short of justification. - -"It would." - -Constance ignored if she observed the laconic intensity of the -acquiescence. She was bent on setting forth the argument with more -color, so she continued: - -"If I become Mr. Perry's wife, my children's future is assured. My son -will be able to acquire a thorough education in art; my daughter, -instead of being obliged to earn her living before she is mature, will -have leisure to cultivate refinement. They would become members of a -different social class. I need not explain to you, Mrs. Wilson, for it -is from you that I have learned the value and the power of beauty. I -covet for them the chance to gain appreciation of what is inspiring and -beautiful in life, so that they need not be handicapped by ignorance as -I have been." - -No other appeal so well adapted to engage her listener's sympathies -could have been devised by a practical schemer. And the obvious -ingenuousness of the almost naļve statement increased the force of it, -for like the woman herself the plea stood out in simple relief -impressive through its very lack of circumlocution and sophistry. -Except for the church's ban a new marriage seemed the most -desirable--the most natural thing for this sympathetic woman in the -heyday of feminine maturity and usefulness. Mrs. Wilson felt the blood -rush to her face as the currents of religious and ęsthetic interest -collided. Her brain was staggered for a moment. - -"Oh, yes. I am sure you do," she murmured. "But----" - -Her utterance was largely mechanical and the pause betrayed the -temporary equilibrium of contending forces. But Constance received the -qualifying conjunction as a warning note. - -"There is a 'but,' an unequivocal 'but.' That is why I wish to consult -you. I need your help. There is something more to add, though, first. -Marriage with Gordon Perry would freshen, sweeten my life, and make a -new woman of me. He is the finest man I have ever known." She spoke -the last sentence with heightened emphasis, plainly glorying in the -avowal. "The simple question is, must I--is it my duty, to renounce -all this? I ask you to tell me the truth." - -"The truth?" Mrs. Wilson echoed the words still in a maze. Yet the -clew was already in her grasp, and she delayed following it only -because the greatness of the responsibility, precious as it was to her, -kept her senses vibrant. At length she said with emotion: - -"This is a strange coincidence, Constance. I have been face to face -with this same issue for the past fortnight. My daughter has begun -divorce proceedings against her husband in order to marry again. They -simply were tired of each other; that is the true, flippant reason they -are separating. Each is to marry someone else. Her light view of the -marriage relation has almost broken my heart. And what is to blame? -The low standard of society in respect to the sacredness of the -marriage tie. I endeavored with all my soul to dissuade her, but in -vain. I come from her to you. The circumstances of your two lives are -very different, but is not the principle involved the same? My dear, -if Lucille--my daughter--could have seen the question as you see it, I -should have been a happy mother. You ask my opinion. I recognize the -solemnity of the trust. A blissful future is before you if you marry, -welfare for your children and yourself. But in the other scale of the -balance are the eternal verities, the duty one owes to society, the -fealty one owes to Christ. You spoke of beauty. The most beautiful -life of all is that which embraces renunciation for a great cause, even -at the cost of the most alluring human joys and privileges." - -Gaining in fluency as she proceeded, because more and more enamoured of -the cruel necessity of the sacrifice, Mrs. Wilson poured into these -concluding words all the intensity of her nature. She would gladly -have fallen on her knees and joined in ecstatic prayer with the victim -had the demeanor of the latter given her the chance. Her heart was -full of admiration and of pity for Constance and also of solicitude for -the triumph of a human soul in behalf of an ideality which was at the -same time the highest social wisdom. If for a moment her modern mind -had revolted at the sternness of the sacrifice demanded, she was now -spellbound by the shibboleth which meditation on her late experience -had reaffirmed on her lips as a rallying cry, the safety of the home. - -"You cannot be ignorant," she exclaimed in another burst of expression, -"that the stability of the family--the greatest safeguard of -civilization--is threatened. What is the happiness of the individual -compared with the welfare of all? In this day of easy divorces and -quick remarriages is it not your duty to heed the teaching of the -Christian Church, which stands as the champion of the sacrament of -marriage?" - -Constance's mien during the delivery of this exhortation suggested that -of a prisoner of war listening to sentence of death, one who yearned to -live, but who was trying already to derive comfort from the consequent -glory; yet a prisoner, too, who clung to life and who was not prepared -to accept his doom, however splendid, without exhausting every -possibility of escape. Though her face reflected spiritual -appreciation of the great opportunity for service held out to her, and -her nostrils quivered, her almost dauntless and obviously critical brow -offered no encouragement to Mrs. Wilson's hope of a tumultuous quick -surrender. She listened, weighing impartially the value of every word. -But suddenly at the final sentences she quivered, as though they had -pierced the armor of her suspended judgment, and inflicted a mortal -wound. - -"Would the church demand it absolutely?" she asked after a moment. - -"Our church forbids remarriage except in case of divorce for adultery -granted to the innocent party. The language of Christ in the gospel of -Matthew seems to sanction this exception, contrary to His teaching as -expressed in the other gospels. But there are many who maintain with -the Roman Catholic Church that the marriage tie can be dissolved only -by death." - -"I know. I had them read to me this morning." - -Though Mrs. Wilson regarded herself as a liberal constructionist of -scriptural texts, and as in sympathy with the priests of her faith who -glossed over or ignored biblical language justifying out-worn -philosophy, she was glad now of the support of the letter of the -Christian law for the great social principal involved. Divining by -intuition what was working in the struggler's mind, and ever on the -watch to satisfy her own standard as regards modern progressiveness of -vision, she ventured this: - -"Though the words of Christ seem far away--though His world was very -different from ours, as perhaps you were thinking, the human needs of -to-day are a grand and unanswerable vindication of His teachings and of -the church's canon." - -Constance looked up wonderingly. Was she dealing with a seer? - -"I was thinking that very thing, that the Saviour's words seem so far -away, perhaps He did not anticipate such a case as mine." - -"He invites you to suffer for His sake even as He did for yours." - -Mrs. Wilson had heard the doctrine of the atonement criticised as -outworn, and she was by no means sure in her heart that it would -survive the processes of religious evolution; yet she felt no scruples -in proffering this cup of inspiration to a thirsty and not altogether -sophisticated spirit. - -Constance's lip trembled. "I neglected once to heed the voice of the -church. I strayed away from Christ. When I was in trouble the church -sought me out, helped me and took me back." - -"I remember. Mr. Prentiss has told me." - -"Would Mr. Prentiss consent to marry me?" - -"He could not perform the service; he is forbidden. You could be -married only by some clergyman of another sect, if one would consent, -or before a justice of the peace." - -It was evident from her tone that Mrs. Wilson classed the civil -ceremony with the ugly things of life. - -"I see," said Constance. "I feared that he would not--that he could -not." She sat for some moments with her hands clasped before her -staring at destiny. Then spurred by one of the voices of protest she -cried like one deploring an inevitable deed, "Gordon will not -understand. He will deem that I am flying in the face of reason and -sacrificing our and the children's happiness to a delusion. He is a -sane and conscientious man. He strives to do what is right. Is it -common sense that I must give him up?" she asked almost fiercely. - -Mrs. Wilson recognized the cry as the fluttering of a spirit resolved -to conquer temptation. "To satisfy common sense would not satisfy you, -Constance," she answered with gentle fervor. "What you desire would be -selfish; what the church invites you to do for the sake of the world, -of the family, would be spiritual." - -"I wish to do what is right this time at any cost." - -As Constance spoke there was a knock, and a moment later the rector of -St. Stephen's appeared in the doorway, a large, impressive figure. For -an instant he stood looking to right and left, taking in the -surroundings while the two women rose to greet him, and Mrs. Wilson -uttered an eager aside to Constance: - -"Here is someone who will tell you what is right." - -Perhaps she did not intend to smother the remark. At all events it was -overheard by Mr. Prentiss, and it suggested to him an appropriate -greeting. - -"I know of few better qualified to decide for herself what is right -than Mrs. Stuart," he exclaimed with sonorous geniality, advancing. "I -received your letter, and here I am. I am glad to see that another -friend has been even more prompt," he added, shaking hands with Mrs. -Wilson. - -"Yes, I wrote to you both that I had been ill because I felt sure that -you would be willing to advise with me as to my future," said Constance. - -She endeavored to take the clergyman's silk hat, but he urbanely waved -her back, and, depositing it on the table, threw open his long coat, -and squaring himself in the chair offered him glanced around the -somewhat darkened room. - -"Well," he said, with cheery solicitude, "you must tell me your story." - -"Let me explain, my dear," interposed Mrs. Wilson, and thereupon she -glided from her chair, and seating herself on the sofa beside -Constance, proceeded to enlighten him. "Our young friend has had a -painful accident," she began, and in half a dozen graphic sentences she -informed Mr. Prentiss of the details of the catastrophe and the scope -of the injury. Meanwhile she possessed herself of Constance's hand, -and from time to time patted it softly during the narration, in the -course of which the rector on his part expressed appropriate concern -for the victim. - -"When Mrs. Stuart wrote," she continued, "it was in order to consult us -as to how she might best earn her livelihood until such time as her -eyesight is restored. This was a pressing and delicate consideration -for the reason that she suspected her employer of a design to invent -occupation for her relief, which under all the circumstances was -distasteful to her pride. The particular matter of providing her with -suitable means of support I have taken upon myself, and the question is -no longer perplexing her. It has been put in the shade by another and -far more momentous problem, the solution of which we have been -discussing for the last half hour. You come just in time to give her -the benefit of your abundant insight and experience. Since she wrote -to you an unexpected and appealing event has come to pass. Mrs. Stuart -has received an offer of marriage from Mr. Perry, her employer, who of -course is aware that she still has a husband living from whom she has -never been divorced." - -Mrs. Wilson designedly threw this searchlight upon the past history of -her ward in order to save her rector from the possibility of finding -himself in the same slough into which she had slipped as a result of -inadvertence, and also to place the precise situation before him in one -vivid flash. - -Presumably what he had heard was a stirring surprise to Mr. Prentiss, -but versed in receiving confessions he gave no sign of perturbation -beyond compressing his lips and settling himself further back in his -chair like one seeking to get his grip on an interesting theme. When -Mrs. Wilson in bright-eyed consciousness of having sprung a sensation -waited to enjoy its effect, he nodded, as much as to inform her that he -had grasped the facts and that she might proceed. - -She fondled Constance's hand for a little before doing so. She wished -to come to the point directly, yet exhaustively; to avoid -non-essentials, yet to present the theme with picturesqueness. - -"This little woman's heart is deeply engaged," she resumed. "She loves -dearly the man who has offered himself to her. His wish to make her -his wife is not only a precious compliment, but it holds forth -interesting opportunities for happiness and advancement for her and for -her two children. He is, as you know, a man of high standing in the -community with prospects of distinction. From the point of view of -worldly blessedness the offer is exceptionally alluring. Moreover she -would be a wife of whom he could be justly proud. You see what I mean. -I have given you, I think, all the vital data which bear on the case." -As she paused she noticed that Constance stirred beside her. It had -not been her intention to proceed further, but she made this clear by -saying, "I leave the rest for you, my dear." - -The next moment the rector responded with grave, solicitous emphasis. -"I believe that I recognize precisely the circumstances with all the -inseparable perplexities and pathos." - -By an involuntary restless movement Constance had indeed revealed her -dread that Mrs. Wilson was about to state the arguments as well as the -point at issue, and her spirit had risen in protest. For sitting there -intent on every word she had had time to realize that a crucial moment -in her life had arrived, and that no one else however clever could -fitly express what was working in her mind in defence of her lover's -cause. When now the desired chance to speak was afforded her there was -no hesitation; the necessary burning question was on her lips--the one -question which demanded an unequivocal answer. - -"Mrs. Wilson has stated all the facts. I ask you, Mr. Prentiss, to -tell me truly if it is possible for me to marry Mr. Perry without doing -wrong, without doing what you--the church--would not have me do. I am -ready to renounce this great happiness if it would not be right in the -highest sense for me to become his wife." - -It was the rector's turn to stir uneasily. His soul was rampant over -the horrors of the divorce evil, but his humanity was momentarily -touched by the rigor of this particular case. He, too, had had time to -think, and his opinion was already formed. It had indeed arisen -spontaneously from the depths of his inner consciousness as the only -possible answer. Yet as a wrestler with modern social problems he was -disturbed to perceive that this sacrifice on this petitioner's part -would have the surface effect of a hardship which, however salutary as -a tenet of Christian doctrine, was not altogether satisfactory from the -practical standpoint. Consequently his reply was a trifle militant. - -Have you as a woman considered whether remarriage while your husband is -alive would be consistent with the highest feminine purity? It was a -specious attack, but for a moment Constance did not comprehend. Then -when it came over her that he was imposing chastity upon her, and -expressing surprise at her restlessness, she lowered her eyes -instinctively. That phase of the case had occurred to her many times -already. Was it an impurity that she, with a husband living, should -love another man? Was the implied reproach sound? Her feminine -self-respect was dearer to her than life. Yet she had not discussed -the point with Mrs. Wilson, as exploration with the plummet of -conscience of the recesses of her womanly self had left her without a -qualm. She had even faced the repugnant possibility that, as the wife -of Gordon, she might hereafter be brought in contact with Emil, and -decided that it could not become a controlling bugbear. Yet now when -she raised her eyes again she looked first at her mentor. That lady -had hers turned toward the ceiling in rapt meditation, but becoming -conscious of Constance's glance, she lowered them to meet it, and -Constance gathered from their troubled appeal that she agreed with the -clergyman that remarriage for her would be incompatible with the -highest personal delicacy and a breach of the law of beauty. This was -almost a shock, and increased her trouble. Her reason was still -unconvinced that the objection was other than an affectation, but the -joint disapproval was a challenge to her confidence. Still she -answered with the courage of her convictions: - -"I should like to marry because I am in love. If my husband were dead, -it would not seem inappropriate that I should wed another." - -[Illustration: "I should like to marry because I am in love."] - -"You are well provided for; you have employment and are earning a -decent livelihood. You have friends who will see that your children do -not lack opportunities for advancement. Is not that enough?" He -paused and quoted rhetorically: "Wherefore they are no more twain, but -one flesh." - -Constance broke the silence by completing the passage with reverence, -"What therefore God hath joined together let not man put asunder." - -"Precisely," murmured the rector. - -Constance slipped her hand from Mrs. Wilson's and rose to her feet. -Why, she scarcely knew. She felt the impulse to stand before her -judges, even as a petitioner at a court of final resort. Though her -heart was hungry for permission to enter the land of promise, she -already guessed what the verdict would be. If her rector's hint that -the project ought to have jarred upon her finer feminine instincts had -left her unconvicted before the tribunal of her own wits, it had set -her thinking. It had brought before her a retrospective vision of the -long fealty of her sex to the voice of carnal purity, and its twin -sister, woman's long fealty to the church. She must be true to her -birthright as a woman; she must obey the higher law whatever the cost. -No happiness could be comparable to that which obedience would bring. -Yet another thought held her, and a little doggedly. Whatever her -penitence for past error, she had never abdicated her heritage as an -American woman--her right to the exercise of free judgment where the -interests of her soul were concerned. Her intelligence must be -satisfied before she yielded. Yet even as she rallied her energies for -a second bout, it seemed to her that the memory of her late forgiveness -by the church stood in the guise of an angel at the rector's side with -grieving eyes, and the charge of ingratitude on its lips. But -Constance said sturdily and carefully: - -"I have reread the Bible texts, Mr. Prentiss, and Mrs. Wilson has -explained to me that as a priest of the Episcopal Church you could not -marry me. I understand that. What I wish you to tell me is whether it -would be a sin, a real sin, were I to be married elsewhere. The law -allows it, only the church forbids. Has the church no discretion, -could no exception be made in a case like mine? In this age of the -world it would seem as though justice and the demands which religion -makes on the conscience ought to tally. You know the circumstances of -my first marriage. Because I made a dreadful mistake, is it my highest -duty to renounce this happiness as a forbidden thing? It is for you to -tell me. I must trust in you; I cannot decide for myself. My reason -whispers to me that it would not be wrong for me to consent, but I am -prepared to put this seeming blessing from me if by accepting it I -should be guilty of a genuine weakness, should be helping to push -society down instead of helping to maintain the standards of the world." - -Mr. Prentiss beamed upon her with pitying, gracious approval. Now that -he had recovered from his momentary access of temper he beheld in a -clear light the reality of the sacrifice, her touching sincerity and -his own opportunity. From the standpoint of righteousness there was no -room in his mind for doubt or evasion; yet he felt that it behooved him -to meet this spiritual conflict with all the tenderness of his priestly -office. He had learned to admire this lithe, dark-haired woman, nor -was her greater physical attraction lost on him. He realized as she -stood before him that under the new dispensation she had waxed in charm -and social effectiveness; and once more she was showing herself worthy -of his enthusiasm. His ear had noticed the felicity of her last -thought, and he was musing on the sophisticated scope of it when Mrs. -Wilson's dulcet voice broke the silence. - -"I have made clear to Mrs. Stuart, Mr. Prentiss, that the advanced -thought of the church finds in the words of Christ not merely an -inspired utterance concerning divorce, but the rallying cry in behalf -of a profound, practical, social reform." - -The rector bent on his ally a discerning glance of satisfaction. He -perceived gratefully that she had made the most of her opportunities to -till the soil from which he looked for a rich harvest. - -"My dear friend," he said to Constance, "you have put upon me a great -responsibility from which I must not shrink. But however -uncompromising my duty as a servant of Christ may cause me to appear, -believe me that my understanding is not blind to the human distress -under which you labor. You are asked to renounce what is for woman the -greatest of temporal joys, the love of a deserving man." He paused a -moment to mark the fervor of his sympathy. "Were I willing to palter -with the truth, and did I deem you to be common clay unable to -appreciate and live up to it, I might say to you 'go and be married -elsewhere. It will be an offence; it will not have the sanction of the -church; but others have done the same, and you will have the protection -of the secular law.' Although the Roman Catholic priest has but one -answer under all circumstances however pitiful, 'who, having a husband -or wife living, marries again, cannot remain a member of the church,' -it might seem permissible to some of my cloth not to condemn remarriage -in the case of a dense soul as a grievous sin. But such palliation -would sear my lips were I to utter it for your relief. You have asked -me what is the vital truth--your highest Christian duty. There can be -but one answer. To respect the marriage bond and, keeping yourself -unspotted from the world, hold to one husband for your mortal life so -long as you both do live. To yield would not be a crime as the -ignorant know crime, but it would be a sapping carnal weakness, -inconsistent with the spiritual wisdom which has hitherto led you. It -would indeed help to lower the standards of human society. I may not -equivocate, my dear friend. This is the ideal of the Christian Church -in respect to marriage and divorce. Invoke the human law for your -protection against your husband if you will, but he is still your -husband in the eyes of God, and if you wed another you commit adultery." - -Constance, seeming like a breathing statue, save for her odd -disfigurement, her arms before her at full length, her hands folded one -upon the other, heard her sentence and love's banishment. Already she -felt the thrill of a solemn impulse to bear this cross laid upon her, -not as a cross but as a fresh opportunity for service, yet she said: - -"Then the law of the church and the law of the State stand opposed to -each other!" She spoke in soliloquy as it were, phrasing an existing -condition for the explanation of which her intelligence still lacked -the key. - -Mr. Prentiss drew himself up. "Yes, they stand opposed, as in so many -other instances. The law of the State is for the weak; the law of the -church--of Christ--is for the strong. Verily the church has been -magnanimous and forbearing. It has resigned to the State little by -little control of the social machinery. But here, where the -foundations of society are at stake, it behooves her to stand firm. -The law of spirit is at war with the law of flesh. Monogamy is the -corner-stone of Christian civilization." - -"And hence it is that marriage is a sacrament; that the marriage bond -bears the seal of heaven," added Mrs. Wilson ardently, as the rector, -contented with his metaphor, stopped short in his righteous foray. - -"If my marriage was made in heaven, we were ill-mated," retorted -Constance. The thought seemed so repugnant to her that she revolted at -it. But Mr. Prentiss, like a true physician of the soul, was equal to -the emergency. - -"The choice was yours, and you made a dreadful mistake. Have you -yourself not said so? Shall you not pay the penalty, my daughter? You -thought you knew him whom you married." - -"Oh, yes, indeed; but I was very young." - -"May they not all say the same? And yet," pursued the rector, in a -tone of proselytizing triumph, "the demon of divorce lurks at our -firesides and, stalking through every walk of life, makes light of the -holy tie as though it were of straw, mocking the solemn associations of -the family, and taking from the innocent child the refining and -safe-guarding influence of a stable, unsullied home. Yet the State -stands by and winks at--aye, connives at and promotes the foul -programme, rehabilitating shallowness and vice through the respectable -red seal of the law. Yes, there are two standards. As a modern priest -I am aware of the sophistry of the criticism, for who, if the church -does not, will stand as the protector of the home? And if it sometimes -happens, as it must happen," he concluded in an exalted whisper, "that -the apparent earthly happiness of one must be sacrificed for the good -of the many, I know that you are not the woman to falter." - -"Oh, no--oh, no," answered Constance, shaking her head. "It is a -terrible condition of affairs, is it not? I see; I understand." She -resumed her seat on the sofa and covered her face with her hands. For -a few moments there was silence. Mrs. Wilson restrained a melting -impulse to put her arm around her ward's shoulder in pitying -encouragement. She felt that it was wiser to wait. - -"Terrible," repeated Constance, as though she had been dwelling on the -thought, and she looked up. Her manner was calm and sweetly -determined. "Thank you, Mr. Prentiss--thank you both so much. There -is only one thing to do--one thing I wish to do, now that my duty has -been made entirely plain. I shall tell Mr. Perry that though I love -him I cannot marry him." - -"There is no reason that you should come to a decision on the spot," -said Mr. Prentiss, reluctant to take undue advantage of an emotional -frame of mind. "Take time to consider the matter." - -But Constance shook her head. "That would not help me. I have thought -it out already. I could not consent to sin, and you have explained, to -me that it would be a sin." - -"A sin surely; a carnal sin for you, Mrs. Stuart," said the clergyman -with doughty firmness. - -Constance gave a little nervous laugh--or was it the echo of a shiver? -"I had a conviction that it could never be. It was a pleasant dream." - -The pathos of the simple utterance reawoke Mrs. Wilson's strained -sensibilities. She bent and kissed Constance on the forehead. Then -turning to her rector she murmured with reverent ecstasy: - -"Will you not pray with us, Mr. Prentiss?" - -It was a grateful, benignant suggestion to the sufferer; the tonic -which her yearning, baffled spirit needed. Divining as by telepathy -that the moment had arrived for just this spiritual communion, the -clergyman set the example to the two women by falling on his knees, and -presently his voice was raised in fervent prayer. It was the prayer of -praise and victory, not of consolation and distress. He thanked -God--as he could do with an overflowing heart--for this triumph of -intelligent spiritual discernment over the lures of easygoing and -numbing materialism. The outcome of the occasion was indeed for him an -oasis, one of those green, fruitful passages in the more or less -general dryness of heart-to-heart contact with his parishioners, the -occurrence of which made him surer both of his own professional -capacity and of the eternal truths of his religion. His invocation of -his God was alike a pęan of thanksgiving and an acknowledgment of -rekindled faith. As for Constance, his words were so many cups of -water to a thirsty soul. Scorched by his exaltation, the cloud mists -of doubt no longer perplexed her, and she beheld with radiant eyes her -cross, her privilege to renounce what reason and human passion urged, -for the sake of an ideal--the higher, vital needs of the human race. - -When Mr. Prentiss had finished Mrs. Wilson did not for a moment trust -herself to speak. Her eyes were full of tears. She had knelt as close -to Constance as she felt to be harmonious. It was a glorious hour also -for her. The steadfastness of this woman of the people was not only a -subtle personal tribute, but it had refreshed the tired arteries of her -being. When her daughter had left her house, secure and cold in the -pride of a revolting scheme of life, it had almost seemed that God -mocked her. But now the glories of His grace were manifest. - -"Constance," she said, "I will call for you to-morrow, to sit in my -pew. It is Sunday, you know." - - - - -XXI - -In saying to Constance that he had pondered the question of their -marriage from her standpoint, Gordon Perry felt that he had given -indeed the fullest weight to every legitimate scruple, and believed -that, provided he was beloved, there was no substance in any one of -them. He knew that Constance had shrunk from a divorce. What more -natural so long as she was undisturbed by her deserting husband? But -now that the element of a new, strong affection was introduced the -necessary legal proceedings seemed a paltry bar to her happiness. He -had expected that she would demur to the step at first, but he had felt -confident that her acute sense would shortly convince her that she was -divorced to all intents and purposes already, and that the mere formal -abdication of the fact, however unpleasant sentimentally was not a -valid obstacle. He had also appreciated that this repugnance to a -legal dissolution of the marriage tie for the purpose of becoming a -second time a wife would be accompanied by an instinctive feminine -aversion to giving her person to another man while it was still -possible to encounter the original husband in the flesh. He did not -pride himself on his knowledge of women, but the attitude suggested -itself to him as possible, even probable, in the case of one whose -sensibilities were so delicate as hers, for the reason that there -lingered in his mind the remembrance of shrinking words both in books -and in real life by other women when the same topic had been broached -in the past. Consequently it was a relief to him that Constance did -not openly manifest this form of repugnance, and he radiantly jumped to -the conclusion that her love for him was so reciprocal and mastering -that false delicacy had been shrivelled up as in a furnace. Was not -such a process in keeping with her sterling sanity and intelligence? -For a moment he had jubilantly assumed that all was won, since, after -conscientious if somewhat scornful analysis of the Church's claim, he -had already decided that the pure religious objection would never in -the end avail to keep them apart. Nor did the foreboding definiteness -of her opposition discourage him appreciably. It merely cast a damper -on his hopes for an immediate surrender, and indicated to him that he -had been premature in supposing that she had been able to purge herself -of superstitions and conventional prejudices forthwith. It could -simply be a question of time when so human and discerning a bride would -come to his arms without a qualm. - -Nevertheless he felt that he must convince her. Now that he was sure -she loved him, the possibility of losing her was not even to be -entertained; but he wished her to succumb as the result of agreement, -and not in spite of herself, both because he realized that she would -not be happy otherwise, and because the doctrine which she had invoked -as a binding obligation jarred not only with his desires, but with his -deepest opinions. Therefore, at the conclusion of their interview, he -took up straightway the cudgels of thought in defence of his -convictions against what seemed to him the essential injustice and -unreasonableness of the Church's claim. This necessarily involved -fresh consideration of that claim itself. That night before he went to -bed he rehearsed the arguments by which he purposed to appeal to her. -Did she not appreciate that they were influenced by no base motives? -That neither lust nor undue haste, nor covetous trifling with the -feelings of others tarnished their mutual passion. Theirs was no case -of putting off the old bonds of matrimony in order to be on with the -new, but one where love had been starved to death, and been born again -by gradual and chaste processes in a lonely, forsaken heart. What -could be wrong in such a union? And were not their own consciences and -their own intelligences the only fit judges of the eternal merits? - -Gordon Perry's attitude toward religion--toward churches and toward -churchmen--was abstractly respectful and friendly. He had been brought -up by his mother in her faith, and the period of stress through which -most young men pass in early life had been productive of a frame of -mind which was reverent as well as critical. Not a small portion of -mankind in Benham accepted their religious doctrine on trust, as they -did their drinking water. Either they were too busy to question what -seemed authority, or that particular compartment of the brain where -absorbing interest in the unseen germinates was empty. Some of the -most pious never reasoned, and their docile worship constituted the -cement in the walls of dogma. Again, there was a class--a growing -class in Benham as elsewhere--composed of well-equipped, active-minded -men who were polite to Religion if they met her in the street, and -would even go to church now and again to oblige a wife or preserve -outward appearances, for they were still of the opinion that religion -is good for the masses. But in their secret souls what did they -believe? - -Gordon belonged to still another class. Religious truth had an -absorbing interest for him, but what was religious truth? Different -sects--and they were manifold in Benham--told him different things, and -each sect proclaimed its doctrine insistently as vital, if not to -salvation, to the highest spiritual development. Like many a young man -before him, he argued that all could not be right, and as a result he -presently found himself a member of that secret society of able-bodied, -able-minded male citizens--the largest class of all--who reasoned about -religious doctrine somewhat in this way: That they were hopefully -looking forward to the time when the controversial differences which -divided the sects into rival camps should disappear; and that until -then they and their successors, whose number was sure to be legion, -would turn deaf ears to the clashing of the divines, and attend church -in order to gain strength and inspiration to play their parts well in -complex modern human society, ignoring all else but the spirit of -Christian love. If it be said that they and Gordon were not strong on -dogma, denied that the laws of the universe had ever been suspended to -produce fear or admiration in man, because to believe the contrary -seemed to be an insult to God, and looked askance at certain other -extraordinary phenomena to which the orthodox cling, it should also be -stated that they and he were heartily in sympathy with every effort of -all the clergy to improve human nature along intelligent lines, to help -the poor to help themselves, to prevent the rich from misappropriating -the earth and to foster truth, courage, unselfishness and refinement in -the name of religion. Therefore it happened that Gordon was apt to -take with a grain of salt what he heard in the pulpit; and now and then -he would play golf on Sunday if he were in need of fresh air for his -soul; but although he was slightly impatient of clerical sophistries up -town, down town he lent a ready hand in the active reforms of the city, -in the furtherance of which he had learned to know well, and to admire -as good fellows, half a dozen energetic, enthusiastic clergymen. Was -not religion one of the great forces of the world? Because one could -not believe everything, and revolted at mystical or puerile -superstitions, were the highest cravings of one's nature to be allowed -to atrophy? So, just as in his social perplexities, he had sought -refuge in practical service from the conflict of theories, and on more -than one occasion he had been agreeably surprised by the confidential -admission of the divines with whom he was co-operating that their and -his views were not essentially far apart. Gordon was glad on their -account to hear so, and was only the more convinced as a consequence -that it was difficult to reconcile most of the strict tenets of -theology with the modern ideas of wide-awake, enlightened laymen -concerning the workings of the universe or the best social development -of the creature man. - -Gordon made no attempt to see Constance on the day following his -proposal. Impatient as he was to renew his suit, he concluded to let -her muse for twenty-four hours on the situation. It occurred to him -that he would ask leave to accompany her to church on Sunday morning, -but reflecting that it would not be fair to disturb her meditations, he -decided instead to attend the service at St. Stephen's and walk home -with her after it. Whatever the New Testament language on the subject, -would she be able to convince herself that the sundering of such love -as theirs would be in keeping with the true spirit of Christianity? It -seemed to him that there could be but one answer to this proposition, -and as he walked along in the beautiful bracing atmosphere of the -autumn day his step was buoyant, for he believed that his happiness -would be sealed within a few short hours. Ecstasy ruled his thoughts. -Was not the woman of his heart an entrancing prize? Fortune and -station she had none, but far more important for him, she was lovable -and she was lovely; she was intelligent and she was good. - -He had attended service at St. Stephen's once or twice before, and had -a bowing acquaintance with Mr. Prentiss; but he knew well and -entertained a cordial liking for the latter's assistant, the rector of -the Church of the Redeemer, the mission church in the squalid section -of the city supported by the larger establishment. St. Stephen's, as -the fashionable Episcopalian church of the community, was apt to draw a -large congregation, especially when the pew owners were not confronted -by wet skies or sidewalks. This brilliant Sunday at the beginning of -the social season had drawn most of the regular congregation and also a -large contingent of strangers--chiefly women--some of them visitors in -Benham, but the majority students and other temporary residents who -found the ęsthetic music and devotional ritual of St. Stephen's -stimulating. Gordon, who was a little late, obtained a seat in the -gallery. It had occurred to him that he would be more likely to catch -sight of his ladylove from this eminence than if he remained below. -His eyes sought at once the so-called free benches where she was -accustomed to sit, but she was not in her usual place. After repeated -scrutiny of the rows of faces had convinced him of this, he concluded -dejectedly that she had not come. Perhaps she had stayed at home -hoping he would call. Or had she been loth to display her glasses in -public before she had become accustomed to the disfigurement? His -glance wandered over the rich flower garden of autumn bonnets, but to -no purpose. While in perplexity he reviewed the probable causes of her -absence he became aware that the music of the processional had ceased -and that Mr. Prentiss was speaking. Ten minutes later, when the -congregation rose to take part in the selection from the Psalms, his -glance fell on Mrs. Randolph Wilson in one of the front pews. Her -profile was almost in a line with his vision. While he looked his -heart gave a bound, for he suddenly recognized that the young woman -next to her in the gay, attractive bonnet was she for the sight of whom -his soul was yearning. - -After leaving Constance on the day of their eventful interview, Mrs. -Wilson had conceived the plan of presenting her with a new bonnet and -jacket. These she brought with her to Lincoln Chambers a little before -church time, and placed with her own hands on the surprised recipient. -Pleased at the ęsthetic progress of her ward, she seized this -opportunity to promote it, and also to cater to her own generous -instincts at a time when to indulge them was not likely to cause -offence. Though astonished, Constance accepted without demur these -welcome additions to her toilet, and the donor had the satisfaction of -beholding how admirably they became her. Besides, Mrs. Wilson had on -the tip of her tongue and was eager to communicate the plan which she -had been working out since they separated, and which she imparted to -Constance as soon as they were in her brougham on the way to church. - -"I have been carefully considering your affairs, my dear, and, in the -first place, you are to do nothing for the next six months but get -well. I shall insist upon looking after you. You promised me, -remember." She paused as though she half expected to encounter -opposition to this project, and, though her ward revealed no -insubordination, she added the argument which she held in reserve: -"For, having deprived you by its counsel of the means of support, it is -the Church's duty, and my privilege as a disciple of the Church's -cause, to watch over you until you are able to provide for yourself. -At the end of the six months, when your eyes are strong again, I wish -you to become my private secretary." - -On the way from her house she had pictured to herself the astonishment -and delight which such an unexpected and splendid proposition must -necessarily inspire, and she could not refrain from stealing a sidelong -glance at Constance in order to observe the effect it would have on her. - -"Your private secretary?" - -Mrs. Wilson felt rewarded by the incredulous bewilderment conveyed by -the interrogatory, and hastened to explain her benefaction. "It seems -almost the interposition of Providence in your behalf," she added. -"Last evening--and I was thinking of your noble resolution at the -time--my secretary came in to inform me that she was engaged to be -married, and to ask me to be on the lookout for someone else. 'The -very place for Constance Stuart,' I said to myself at once. 'What -could suit her better? And what an admirable arrangement it will be -for me!' For, after refusing Mr. Perry's offer, I take for granted -that, even when your eyesight is restored, the continuance of your -present business relations would be out of the question." - -"Oh, yes; entirely so," answered Constance with rueful promptness. "I -could not continue in his employment; we should both be unhappy." She -was making a confession of what she had been saying to herself all the -morning. - -"Exactly." Mrs. Wilson beamed over the success of her divination. - -"Then we will consider it settled. And I wish to tell you besides that -I shall take it upon myself to see that your boy's artistic gift is -given full opportunity for expression, and your daughter thoroughly -educated. Your salary, I mean, will be sufficient to enable you to -give them proper advantages, for I can see that you will be very useful -to me." - -She was determined to make plain that virtue in this case was to be its -own reward, and that the material losses in the wake of renunciation -were rapidly being eliminated. At the same time she wished to conceal -a too obviously eleemosynary intent. - -"I don't see how anything could be nicer for me. And if you think that -I should suit--that I could perform the duties properly--I shall be -thankful for the position," answered poor Constance. - -She had passed another sleepless night. Fixed as was her conviction -that separation from her lover was inevitable, she felt deeply sorry -for him if not for herself, and dreaded the impending final interview -between them. Despite her spiritual exaltation the consciousness that -she was letting slip a great chance for her children still haunted her, -in that the future by comparison seemed vague and forbidding. For it -had been clear to her from the moment of her decision that under no -consideration could she remain in Gordon's office. Therefore, though -doubtless her friends would help her, the struggle for a livelihood -must be begun again. - -Mrs. Wilson's amazing, timely offer lifted a great weight from her -heart; by it the question of her future employment was disposed of, and -disposed of in a way more congenial to her than any she could have -imagined possible. It did indeed seem providential that the vacancy -should have occurred at this time, and she realized that the certainty -that her children would be protected would nerve her for the necessary -ordeal of parting, for now there was only selfishness in her desire for -marriage. She longed for it to be over with that she might put away -once and forever this great temptation. - -The thought that Gordon would probably come for his answer that -afternoon was uppermost in her mind during the service; but she was in -a mood to respond to the beautiful music, and before Mr. Prentiss gave -out the text of the sermon she was already thrilling with the joy of -her sacrifice on the altar of faith. She prayed that she might be -granted strength to renounce this seeming blessing ungrudgingly and to -close her ears to the whispers of regret, and as she joined in the -jubilant anthem of rejoicing for a risen Lord it seemed to her that the -angel of peace brushed her forehead with the wings of heaven's love. -The text was "Except a man be born again he shall not enter into the -kingdom of heaven." It was a sermon of immortality and hope, and a -sermon of the triumph of the spirit over the flesh for the sake of a -Christ who had set the great example and conquered self through -suffering. It was one of Mr. Prentiss's most happy efforts from the -standpoint of orthodoxy, graphic, eloquent, and practical. He set no -narrow limits of a creed as the arbiter of truth, but declared that the -opportunity to choose between the path of righteousness and the path of -self-sufficiency or self-indulgence was offered to every one in the -great struggle of modern life; that he who would follow the blessed -Lord and Master must shun as evil that which was injurious to the -highest interests of human society and thus hateful to God. As she -listened Constance could not doubt that he had her in mind. It seemed -to her that more than once his glance rested on her encouragingly and -fondly. Her brain was transported with ecstasy and zeal. Her -opportunity was at hand, and she would serve Christ and mankind -faithfully. - -Leaving the church under the spell of the sermon, she became suddenly -aware that her lover was beside her and was suggesting that he escort -her home. At sight of him her chaperone, scenting danger, led the way -sedulously toward the brougham, but in the interval Constance decided -to take him at his word. Would it not be the simplest course to -explain to him quietly on the street that what he asked her was -impossible, and thus avoid the pain of a more intimate parting? -Therefore she made her excuses to Mrs. Wilson, pleading the radiance of -the day and her need of fresh air. She felt so sure of herself that, -though she noticed her friend seemed disappointed, it did not occur to -her that it was from concern as to the result of the interview until -she heard a whispered "Be firm." Constance turned a resolute face -toward her, and by a close pressure of the hand gave the desired -assurance, then as the stylish equipage rolled away from the church -door, she stepped to Gordon's side, sadly conscious that this was to be -their last walk together. - -Three days later, in the evening, Gordon Perry rang at the house of the -Rev. George Prentiss, the comfortable looking and architecturally -pleasing rectory in the neighborhood of St. Stephen's. A trim maid -ushered him into an ante-room where all parochial visitors were first -shown, and asked for his name. There was a nondescript elderly woman -in black ahead of him. In his capacity as rector of a large parish, -Mr. Prentiss followed the modern methods of other busy professional -men. An electric bell at his desk notified the servant that the -interview with the last comer was at an end and that the next in order -was to be introduced. Gordon had not long to wait. His remaining -predecessor's stay was brief. The rector's heartiness was almost -apologetic as he strode a pace or two forward to greet his visitor. - -"Mr. Perry, I am very glad to see you. I am sorry that you should have -been kept waiting. But the clergy cannot afford to be unbusiness-like, -can they? We intend to live down that taunt. So my rule is 'first -come, first served.'" - -"The only proper rule, I am sure." - -It was a spacious, well-filled room, the manifest workshop of an -industrious man, but furnished with an eye to ęsthetic appropriateness -as well as utility. Red leather chairs and lounges of goodly -proportions, two symmetrical, carved tables covered with documents, -books, and pamphlets, warm curtains, an open wood fire, a globe, sundry -busts and framed photographs of celebrities, mainly clerical, including -a large one of Phillips Brooks and another of Abraham Lincoln, were its -distinguishing characteristics. - -Mr. Prentiss stepped to one of the tables and opening an oblong -Japanese box drew out a handful of cigars. - -"Will you smoke, Mr. Perry?" he asked, cheerily. - -Gordon took one, and the clergyman, who reserved his use of tobacco for -occasions when by so doing he might hope to make clearer that he was -human, did the same. As soon as they were lit, Mr. Prentiss with a -sweep of his hand indicated two easy chairs on either side of the fire, -but after his guest was seated he himself stood with his back to the -mantel-piece, his hands behind him, the commanding affable figure of a -good fellow. Still he chose to show at the same time what was in his -heart at the moment coincident with his manifestations of secular -hospitality. - -"That woman who just went out has recently buried her only son, the joy -and prop of her old age. She came to thank me for a trifling donation -I had sent her. Her courage and her trust were beautiful to witness. -These humble lives often furnish the most eloquent testimonials of the -eternal realities." He spoke with the enthusiasm of his calling, as a -doctor or a lawyer might have set before an acquaintance an interesting -case. He liked to feel that he was on the same footing with the world -of men as they, with respect to privileges no less than -responsibilities. For an instant he seemed to muse on the experience, -then briskly recurring to the immediate situation said: - -"But what can I do for you, Mr. Perry? My assistant, Mr. Starkworth, -tells me that you take an active personal interest in the social -problems of our community." - -This bland presumption of ignorance as to the cause of his visit made -Gordon smile. He could not but suspect that it was artificial. Yet -the inquiry was by no means hypocritical; for though Mr. Prentiss was -fully conscious of his caller's identity, and had given him a -correspondingly genial reception, he regarded the episode of the -proposed marriage as so completely closed by Constance's decision that -he did not choose to believe that Gordon had come for the unseemly -purpose of reviving it. It seemed to him far more probable that his -advice or assistance was sought in some humanitarian or civic cause. - -"Yes," said Gordon slowly, enjoying the development of the opening -which occurred to him, "Mr. Starkworth and I have co-operated from time -to time, with mutual liking, I think. It is in regard to a social -problem that I have come to consult you this evening." - -"Ah," said the rector, relieved in spite of his belief, and thereupon -he settled himself in the other capacious easy chair and turned a -cordially attentive countenance to his guest. "You may feel assured of -my interest in anything of that kind." - -"It concerns my own marriage," said Gordon. - -The challenge was so unmistakable, like a gauntlet thrown at his feet, -that Mr. Prentiss was for an instant disconcerted, then irritated. But -the pleasant manner of his opponent negatived the aroused suspicion -that effrontery lurked behind this slightly sardonic introduction, and -he met the attack with a grave but supple dignity. - -"Indeed," he said. "I shall be very glad to hear what you have to say, -Mr. Perry." - - - - -XXII - -Gordon drew deeply several times at his cigar, then laid it on the -bronze tray for ashes within reach, as though he felt that it might -profane his thought. - -"I come to you to-night, Mr. Prentiss, as man to man, knowing that you -wish truth and justice to prevail, and asking you to believe that I -desire the same. We are both of us men of affairs in the modern sense." - -The rector bowed. - -"Then you as the rector of one of the most influential churches in the -city will doubtless agree that religion must be sane and reasonable in -its demands to-day or it will lose more followers among the -educated--and education is constantly spreading--than it gains from the -ignorant and superstitious?" - -"Assuredly." - -"I, on my side, as a layman--whatever our differences of precise faith -and dogma--am glad to bear witness that the present social world could -do without true religion less than ever before." - -The summary pleased Mr. Prentiss. It was reasonable and progressive. -"We are entirely in accord there," he answered heartily. - -"As I supposed. Then it obviates the necessity of feeling my way. -With some clergymen I should not venture to take anything unorthodox -for granted, but I believed that we should readily find a common ground -of agreement." - -The assertion was regarded by Mr. Prentiss as a compliment. -Nevertheless he perceived that it behooved him to mark the limits of -his liberality. - -"The essence of Christianity has nothing to fear either from the higher -criticism or the modern world's lack of interest in moribund dogma. -May I not say with Paul 'but this one thing I do, forgetting those -things which are behind, and reaching forth to those things which are -before'?" - -"And from that point of view may I ask why you have felt constrained to -separate Mrs. Stuart and me?" - -There was a brief pause. The rector had not the remotest intention of -shirking responsibility, but he wished the precise truth to appear. - -"It was Mrs. Stuart's own decision." - -"I asked her in good faith, after an attachment of several years, to -become my wife. She loves me fondly, as I do her. She would have -married me had you not convinced her that to do so would be a sin." - -"I told Mrs. Stuart that from the standpoint of her highest duty as a -Christian woman, it would be a sin. Not unpardonable sin, if finite -intelligence may venture to distinguish the grades of human error, but -conduct incompatible with the highest spirituality--and modern -spirituality, Mr. Perry." - -There was a doughty ring to the rector's tone, betokening that he was -not averse to crossing swords with his visitor. - -"Why would it be a sin?" - -Mr. Prentiss knocked the ash from his cigar and held up the glowing -tip. "Do you not know?" he asked, fixing his gaze squarely on his -antagonist, so that he seemed to attack instead of defend. - -"Because she has a husband living--a brute of a husband who, after -dragging her down, deserted her shamefully; a husband whom she has -ceased to love and from whom the law of this community would grant her -a divorce." - -"Proceed." - -"Because the Church has seen fit to stigmatize as evil that which the -State sanctions in a matter vitally affecting the earthly happiness of -the human sexes." - -Waiting briefly to make sure that the indictment was complete, Mr. -Prentiss rejoined dryly: "You state the case accurately. My answer is -that the Church is merely inculcating the precepts of the Saviour of -mankind." - -Gordon drew a deep breath. He rejoiced in his opportunity. - -"Mr. Prentiss," he said, "you referred just now to the world's lack of -interest in moribund dogma; we agreed that the demands of religion -to-day must be sane and reasonable. I speak with entire reverence, but -I ask whether you honestly believe that the few casual sentences which -Christ is reported to have uttered thousands of years ago in Palestine -in regard to man's putting away his wife should control complicated -modern human society--the Christian civilization of to-day--so as to -preclude a pure woman like Mrs. Stuart, under the existing -circumstances, from obtaining happiness for herself and her children by -becoming my wife? I ask you as an intelligent human being and a just -man if this is your opinion?" - -There was no hesitation on the rector's part; on the contrary, firm -alacrity. - -"It is." - -"And yet you know that a large portion of the civilized world ignores -the doctrine," answered Gordon, curbing his disappointment. He had not -expected to encounter this stone wall. - -"I do, to its shame and detriment. The Church is not responsible for -that." - -"Then your argument rests on the letter of Christ's words?" - -"It does and it does not." There was triumph in the rector's voice as -he laid emphasis on the qualifying negation. He had hoped to lead his -censor to this very point. "Nor does the spiritual objection of the -woman who has refused to marry you rest solely on that ground. She is -an intelligent person, Mr. Perry. She perceives, as I perceive, that -what you ask her to consent to do would be evil for the human race as -well as contrary to the teachings of our Lord. There is nothing -moribund in that attitude. It is vital, timely righteousness. Mrs. -Stuart must have set this double reason before you." - -Gordon remembered that she had. In his agitation during their final -interview, believing that she was laboring under a neurotic delusion, -he had given little heed to her argument. Now, as a lawyer, he -perceived the ingenuity of the plea, though he still regarded her as -the victim of clerical sophistry. Yet he made no immediate response, -and Mr. Prentiss took advantage of the opportunity to elucidate the -situation. - -"Mr. Perry, you are led away by the special merits of your own case. I -acknowledge the hardship; I grant the pathos of the circumstances. -They present the strongest instance which could be cited in -justification of remarriage by a divorced person. But there must be -more or less innocent victims on the altar of every great principle. -The Lord has demanded this service of His handmaid, and, though her -heart is wrung, she rejoices in it." - -"I see," said Gordon, "and that presents the real issue. Why should -the Church usurp the functions of the State? Why in this age of the -world should it decide what is best for the human race in a temporal -matter, and substitute an arbitrary and inflexible ethical standard of -its own for the judgment of organized society?" - -Mr. Prentiss's nostrils dilated from the intensity of his kindled zeal. -"Why? For two reasons. First, because the Church declines to regard -as a temporal matter an abuse which threatens the existence of the -family, the corner-stone of Christian civilization; and second, because -the State has flagrantly neglected its duty, allowing divorce to run -riot through the nation without uniform system or decent limitations. -Is the Church to remain tongue-tied when the stability of the holy bond -of matrimony has become dependent on the mere whims of either party?" - -"I see the force of your position. I will answer you categorically. -As to the first reason, it seems to me untenable. As to the second, -you accused me just now of seeing only my side. Let me retaliate, and -at the same time suggest that, though you may seem to have a strong -case, you do not know the real facts." Gordon, having reached a more -dispassionate stage of the argument, remembered his cigar, which he -proceeded to relight. But the rector, not accustomed to such -colloquial dissent, threw his own in the fireplace and crossed his arms. - -"Regarding your first plea in behalf of the Church's interference that -the Church does not look on marriage as a temporal concern, let me -remind you," continued Gordon, "that marriage is the only matter in the -realm of human social affairs where the Church undertakes to nullify by -positive ordinance the law of the State--where there is divided -authority. In all other social affairs the law of the State is -paramount. The Church forbids abstract vices--malice, -uncharitableness, lust, selfishness, intemperance, but it does not -attempt to define these in terms of human conduct, or to substitute -canons for the secular statute book." - -"The Church regards marriage as a sacrament." - -"The Roman Catholic and the Episcopal. If I may say so, the attitude -of both these churches is a foreign influence." - -The clergyman drew himself up. "Foreign?" - -"Yes, foreign to native American ideas, and I might add foreign to the -claims of the first followers of Christianity, for the early Christian -Church did not assert the right to perform the marriage ceremony, or to -regulate marriage. Its protectorate dates from a later period. But -what I had in mind was that it is antagonistic to the spirit both of -our forefathers and their descendants. In the early days of New -England the service of marriage was performed not by the minister, but -by the magistrate, and marriages by clergymen were forbidden. It was -the authority of the State, the commonwealth, the considered judgment -of the community which was recognized." - -Mr. Prentiss nodded. "You are a Unitarian, I judge." - -"I was brought up in the Unitarian faith. Like most American men, I -believe in the power of the individual to work out his own salvation." - -"But what message have you for a world of sinners?" asked the rector, -trenchantly. - -"I appreciate the force of your criticism. I am conscious that the -weakness of Unitarianism--of individual liberty of conscience--is its -coldness, that it does not constantly hold out to the degenerate soul -the lure of a new spiritual birth. It is for this reason largely that -your Church and the Catholic Church have gained fresh converts in this -country and this city. Moreover, those churches have promoted among us -picturesqueness, color, and sentiment. But, on the other hand, their -spirit is autocratic if not aristocratic, and in their love for the -pomp of the ages, in their fealty to the so-called vested rights of -civilization, they have little sympathy with the rational, every-day -reasoning of republican democracy." - -Mr. Prentiss pursed his lips. There was no offence in the speaker's -manner or tone which would justify a rebuke; on the contrary, they both -suggested that he was trying to speak dispassionately. But the -conclusions stirred the rector's blood, and he tightened his folded -arms. - -"You seem to forget that the spirit of Christian philanthropy, of the -loving brotherhood of man, is the controlling emotional force in the -Episcopal--yes, in the Roman Church to-day. You yourself are familiar, -for example, with the work of my Mr. Starkworth in the Church of the -Redeemer." - -"Yes. But neither Church has compassion on the misery of common -humanity when to relieve it would conflict with the hard and fast -letter of church law. That is where--and notably in this matter of -recognizing divorce--the other Protestant churches, the Presbyterian, -the Methodist and the Baptist, have been more tolerant. They have -refused to insist that it is for the benefit of mankind that, under all -circumstances, men and women unhappily married should remain in durance -vile without the possibility of escape, or, having escaped, should be -condemned by precept to celibacy for the rest of their lives. And -these are sects whose creed is based on the essential sinfulness of -human nature." - -The rector glowered at Gordon for a moment from under his brows. "Then -where will you draw the line?" This was Mr. Prentiss's trump card. It -expressed his utter weariness with what he regarded as the foul system -of conflicting and irresponsible legislation, unceasingly and -scandalously availed of. - -"That brings us to your second proposition!" exclaimed Gordon. "As to -whether the State is faithless to its duty. Have you a copy of the -public laws, Mr. Prentiss?" - -"Assuredly." The rector strode across the room and taking down two -large volumes from the book-shelf presented them to his visitor. It -gratified him to demonstrate by this practical test the broadness of -his humanity. - -"Do you happen to know the causes for which divorce is granted in this -State?" - -Mr. Prentiss hesitated. Evidently he had no exact information on the -subject, which at this juncture was disconcerting. "For far too many -causes; I am sure of that," he replied, stoutly. - -"I will read them to you. 'Impotence; adultery; desertion for three -years; sentence for felony for two years; confirmed habits of -intoxication; extreme cruelty; grossly and wantonly refusing to support -wife.'" - -The rector listened alertly, hoping to be able to pounce on some -conspicuously insufficient provision. Since this did not appear he -made a sweeping assertion. "They are all inadequate in my opinion -except unfaithfulness to the marriage vow, and I often doubt the wisdom -of making an exception there. I am by no means sure that the Roman -Church is not right in its refusal to admit the validity of divorce for -any cause whatever." - -"But what has been the course of history since the Roman Church -promulgated its canon at the Council of Trent more than three hundred -years ago? The cause of common sense and justice as represented by the -State has, in spite of the fierce opposition of the clergy, won victory -after victory, until the institution of marriage has been placed under -the control of the secular law on most of the Continent of Europe, and -the right to divorce and the right to remarry widely recognized--for -instance in France, Germany, Switzerland, Norway, Denmark. In France -it's a criminal offence for a priest to perform the religious ceremony -of marriage until after the civil ceremony." - -"Yes, and it was France which during the days of the revolution -permitted divorce at the mere option of either party. And there are -signs that we are rapidly imitating that same barbaric laxity in the -United States, and in this community." - -"And if it were, would it be so much more barbarous a condition than -the conservatism of the English law of Church and State, which grants -divorce to the man whose wife has been guilty of adultery, but -withholds it from a woman unless her husband has been guilty of cruel -and abusive treatment into the bargain?" - -The rector was touched on another sensitive point. He put out the palm -of his hand. "I fail to see the relevancy of your comparison, Mr. -Perry. However, the American Episcopal Church is not responsible for -the flaws in the details of the English establishment. The two are -harmonious and their aims are identical, but we do not follow blindly." - -"Yet the American Episcopal Church follows its English parent and the -Roman Catholic in maintaining that the woman whose husband is an -inveterate drunkard, is convicted of murder or embezzlement, kicks and -beats her shamefully, or deserts her utterly in cold blood, is guilty -of a crime against heaven and against society if she breaks the bond -and marries again. Progressive democracy in the person of the State is -more lenient, more merciful. It refuses to believe that one -relentless, arbitrary rule is adapted to the exigencies of human -society. It insists that each case should be judged on its merits, and -both relief afforded and fresh happiness permitted when justice so -demands. Think of the many poor creatures in the lower ranks condemned -by your inexorable doctrine to miserable, lonely lives, who might -otherwise be happy!" - -Mr. Prentiss's brow contracted as though he were a little troubled by -the appeal to his sympathy with the toiling mass. "One wearies of this -ever-lasting demand for happiness in this life," he murmured. "Was -Christ happy? They are free to disregard the authority of the Church -if they see fit," he added. "I for one should not feel justified in -refusing the communion to a divorced woman who had remarried." - -"But the Catholic Church would and does uniformly; and the high church -party in your own church would disapprove of your leniency. The vital -point is that both churches and you yourself brand those who disobey as -spiritually impure, or at least inferior, a stigma which appalls the -best women. And so they are held as in a cruel vice, so you have held -her who was to be my wife." - -The reversion to the personal equation reminded the rector that this -was no academic discussion. - -"You have not answered my question yet. Where will you draw the line? -Granting for the moment--which I by no means agree to--that gross -habits of intoxication, felony, or absolute desertion are valid grounds -for breaking the nuptial bond, let me cite the law to you in turn, Mr. -Perry." Thereupon Mr. Prentiss stepped to the shelves again, and -running through the pages of a book, discovered presently the data of -which he was in search. "What do you think of these reasons?" he asked -in a scorching tone. "American grounds of divorce: 'When it shall be -made to appear, to the satisfaction and conviction of the court, that -the parties cannot live in peace and union together, and that their -welfare requires a separation,' Utah; 'Voluntarily living separate for -one year,' Wisconsin; 'For any cause that permanently destroys the -happiness of the petitioner and defeats the purposes of the marriage -relation,' Connecticut; 'For any cause in the discretion of the court,' -Kentucky; 'Whenever the judge who hears the cause decrees the case to -be within the reason of the law, within the general mischief the law -intended to remedy, or within what it may be presumed would have been -provided against by the legislature establishing the foregoing cause of -divorce, had it foreseen the specific case and found language to meet -it without including cases not within the same reason, he shall grant -the divorce,' Arizona; and in a host of States, 'One year's absence -without reasonable cause.'" - -"I told you that you seemed to have a good case," said Gordon, smiling. -"But I do not think that you understand the facts, understand the real -nature of the abuse, for I heartily agree that an abuse exists even -from the standpoint of those who maintain that divorce should be -granted on the slenderest grounds. As to the extracts which you have -just read, I judge that the book is not a recent publication." - -"I have reason to believe that it is authoritative." - -"Undoubtedly it was so at the time. But several of the provisions in -question have been repealed and are no longer law." - -"Ah," said the rector. "But you cannot deny that it is still the law -that a man and woman may be married in one jurisdiction and adjudged -guilty of adultery or bigamy in another; that the marriage tie is -broken daily on the most frivolous grounds and with the most indecent -haste; and that there is wide and revolting discrepancy between the -statutes of the several United States." - -Gordon nodded. "I cannot deny the substantial accuracy of the -indictment." - -"Well, sir, how do you justify it? Is not civil society neglecting its -duty?" - -"I do not justify the defects in some of the legal machinery, and to -this extent I agree that society is derelict. But what I wish to make -clear is that nearly all the legal grounds for divorce in the several -states are just and reasonable--substantially the same as in this -State--and that the abuses against which they afford relief are such as -render the relation of husband and wife intolerable. There are a few -vague and lax exceptions such as you have cited, but they are fast -disappearing. The real and the salient evil lies in the looseness of -administration sanctioned in some jurisdictions, by means of which -collusive divorces are obtained by pretended residents, and close -scrutiny of the facts is avoided by the courts. To permit legal -domicile to be acquired by a residence of three months, as in Dakota, -is a flagrant invitation to fraud; but that and kindred abuses are -defects in the police power, and have only a collateral bearing on the -main issue between us, which is whether democracy can ever be induced -to reconsider its decision that it is for the best interests of human -nature that the innocent wife or husband, to whom a cruel wrong has -been done, should be free to break the bond and marry again. There is -the real question, Mr. Prentiss. You as a churchman--a foreign -churchman I still claim--demand that the woman whose life has been -blighted by a husband's brutality, sentenced for heinous crime, -abandonment, or degrading abuse of liquor should remain his wife to the -end, though he has killed every spark of love in her soul. The Church -will never be able to convince the American people or modern democracy -that this is spiritual or just." - -"And yet a man who has been prohibited by the courts of New York from -marrying again has merely to step into New Jersey and his marriage -there will be recognized and upheld by the courts of New York. But -that you will probably describe as another instance of defect in the -police power. The line which you draw is evidently that which any -particular body of people--sovereign states I believe they call -them--sees fit to establish. The logical outcome of such a theory can -only be social chaos. The sanctity of the home is fundamentally -imperilled thereby." - -"And yet," said Gordon, "the family life of the American people -compares favorably with that of any nation in affection, morality, and -happiness. More than three-fourths of the applicants for divorce in -the United States are women. They have thrown off the yoke of docile -suffering which the convention of the centuries has fastened upon them." - -"Some of them," interposed the rector with spirited incisiveness. "The -shallow, the self-indulgent, the indelicate, the earthly minded. There -are many who are still true to the behests of the spirit," he added -significantly. It was doubtless an agreeable reflection to him that -the one woman in the world for his antagonist was among the faithful. - -"On the contrary, I believe that their number is made up largely of the -intelligent, the earnest, and the vitally endowed. Democracy maintains -that it is no worse for children to be educated where love or legal -freedom exists than where there is thinly concealed hate, contempt, or -indifference." - -It was obvious that neither had been or would be convinced by the -other's argument. Probably each had been well aware of this from the -first. Gordon had come warm with what he regarded as the unwarranted -injustice of the clergyman's successful interference, unable to credit -the belief that it would not be withdrawn when the case was coolly laid -before him. On his part Mr. Prentiss had listened indulgently, certain -of the deep-rooted quality of his convictions, but willing to hear the -opposite side stated by a trained antagonist. He had been glad of an -opportunity to elucidate the Church's attitude, and had not been -without hopes of making cogent to this censor of different faith the -civilizing righteousness of the ecclesiastical stand, or at any -rate--which would be in the line of progress--the demoralizing -insufficiency of the current secular reasons for divorce. Apparently -he had failed in both, and moreover had encountered a disposition -toward obnoxious radicalism which was disturbing. - -"Then I am to presume that you, and so far as you are at liberty to -speak for them, the American people" (Mr. Prentiss could be subtly -biting when the occasion demanded), "sanction practically -indiscriminate divorce?" - -Gordon disregarded the sarcastic note. The bare question itself was -sufficiently interesting. - -"It is true, as you suggested just now, that the American people have -gone further in that direction than any other except the French. In -France, after the latitude of optional divorce palled, divorce was -abolished and was never authorized again, as you may remember, until -very recently--1884. In the exuberance of our enthusiasm for personal -liberty the legislators in some of our states--especially those of the -most recent origin, have shown an inclination to pass laws which -justify your conclusion. But there is at present a reaction. The -people have become disgusted with the licentious shuffling on and off -of the marriage tie by the profligate element of the fashionable rich -through temporary residence and collusive proceedings in other states. -You and I have a recent flagrant instance in this city in mind. Every -good citizen abhors such behavior, Mr. Prentiss. But the public -conscience has become aroused, and steps are being taken to reform what -I termed the defects in the police power, partly by amendment of the -loose provisions by some of the offending states, and partly by -provisions in other states, challenging the jurisdictional validity of -foreign divorces granted to their own citizens on paltry grounds. It -is a misfortune that a national divorce law is only among the remote -possibilities. And yet, can there be any doubt that any uniform law -which the American people would consent to adopt would necessarily -include every one of the grounds already law in this State, and which -the Church labels as inadequate?" - -Mr. Prentiss twisted in his chair. "If the Church were satisfied that -the State was sincere, a reasonable compromise might not be impossible. -Some of our thoughtful clergy have been feeling their way toward this." - -Gordon shook his head. "But even your Church would yield so little; -and the Roman Catholic nothing at all. Would you consent to divorce -for gross drunkenness or conviction for felony?" - -"If so, what becomes of the spiritual obligation that one takes the -other for better or for worse? Shall a woman desert her husband in -misery? Is long-suffering devotion to become antiquated?" - -"As an obligation, yes. If she loves him still, she will cling to him. -But if their natures are totally at variance, if she has been cruelly -wronged and disappointed by his conduct, she should have the right to -leave him and to wed again. The world of men and women has ceased to -believe that individual happiness should be sacrificed until death to -the cruel or degenerate vices of another." - -"The doctrine of selfish individualism," murmured the rector. - -"Mrs. Stuart informed me that you made that cry the basis of your -objection. I agree with you that individualism has in many directions -been given too free scope, and that modern social science is right in -demanding that it should be curbed for the common good. But only when -it is for the common good, Mr. Prentiss. Divorce and remarriage are in -many instances necessary for the welfare of humanity, for the -protection and relief of the suffering and virtuous and the joyous -refreshment of maimed, tired lives." - -"And how liable they are to become tired with such easy avenues of -escape!" Mr. Prentiss hastened to exclaim. "So long as remarriage is -stigmatized as a lapse from spiritual grace, young couples will be -patient and long-suffering. The truest love is often the fruit of -mutual forbearance during the early years of wedlock. It is only one -step from what you demand to divorce for general incompatibility. I -have yet to hear you disclaim belief that this would be for the common -good, Mr. Perry." Mr. Prentiss rolled out the phrase "general -incompatibility" with fierce gusto, as though he were scornfully -revelling in its felicity as an epitome of his opponent's theory -carried to its logical conclusion. He had been sparring for wind, -waiting for an opening as it were, and feeling that he had found it, he -forced the fighting. - -"It is difficult to forecast what is to be the future evolution of the -divorce problem," answered Gordon, reflectively. "On one side is the -security of the home, as you have indicated, on the other the claims of -justice and happiness. Just now respectable society stands a little -aghast--and no wonder--at the scandalous lack of reverence for the -marriage tie shown by our new plutocracy----" - -"Godless people!" interjected the rector. - -"And will doubtless mend its fences for the time being so as to refuse -divorce except for genuine tangible wrongs, such as those we have -discussed. But if you ask me whether I believe that in the end general -incompatibility--meaning thereby total lack of sympathy between husband -and wife--will be recognized by human society as a valid and beneficial -ground, my answer is that the social drift is that way. It will depend -on the attitude of the women. They constitute by far the majority of -the applicants for divorce, as you know. If they become convinced that -it will not be for the welfare and happiness of themselves and their -children to remain tied to men utterly uncongenial, the State probably -will give them their liberty. But one thing is certain," he added, -"the Church will never be able to fasten again upon the world its -arbitrary standard." - -Gordon rose as he finished. He felt that the interview was at an end, -a drawn battle so far as change of opinion was concerned. But he had -chosen to complete his bird's-eye glimpse of the possible future with a -definite and pointed prediction. - -Mr. Prentiss had listened with astonishment to the speculative -suggestion. He had expected a disavowal of the license embodied in his -taunt, and a floundering attempt at limitation which he hoped would -involve his adversary in an intellectual quicksand. Up to this point -he had fancied Gordon, though he had disagreed with him. But now, as -he also rose, he manifested a shade of haughtiness, as though he were -dismissing someone who had come perilously near landing himself outside -the pale of the respect which one man owes another of the same class. -Ignoring the assertion as to the decay of the Church's power, he said: - -"Such an evolution as you predict, sir, would undermine the structure -of human society." - -"It would be more or less revolutionary, certainly," answered Gordon, -blandly. The possibility seemed not to have proper terrors for him, -which was puzzling to the clergyman, who was loth to regard this -well-appearing young man as a sympathizer with radical social -doctrines. He stared at Gordon a moment. - -"So long as women are as pure and spiritual minded as Mrs. Stuart the -laxity which you seem to invite will be out of the question." - -Here was an unequivocal reminder to Gordon of the real fruitlessness of -his interview. It was in effect a challenge; and he accepted it as -such. - -"She will yet become my wife." - -Mr. Prentiss shook his head. "I have known her longer than you," he -asserted proudly. - -For a moment there was silence. Issue had been joined in these two -sentences, and further speech was superfluous. It was Gordon who -relieved the tension, which seemed almost hostile, by putting out his -hand. - -"Mr. Prentiss," he said, "we disagree utterly, but that is no reason -surely why we should not part with amicable respect for each other's -differences of opinion? I know you are actuated solely by the desire -to accomplish what you believe to be right." - -The manly appeal was instantly reciprocated. The clergyman grasped the -outstretched hand and shook it firmly. To agree to disagree gracefully -was in keeping with his theories as to the proper attitude of men of -affairs. - -"Mr. Perry," he said, "I am glad to have made your acquaintance. -Believe me, I grieve that the church in my person must stand between -you and happiness. If any matter at any time arises where you think I -could be of public service, do not hesitate to consult me. I am well -aware that we both are laborers in the same vineyard." - -Considering that their theological views were nearly as divergent as -the poles, and that they were battling for a woman's soul, this was -eminently conciliatory and rational on either side. - - - - -XXIII - -The parting with Gordon had been exceedingly painful for Constance, but -she had not wavered. The circumstance that they were in the street had -been a serviceable protection, for it forced upon the interview a -restraint which must have been lacking had they been indoors. She was -enabled to keep her lover at bay, and to meet his protestations of -devotion and dismay with the answer that she had made up her mind. At -the outset she had explained to him in a few words that she had become -convinced that marriage would be inconsistent with her highest -spiritual duty and hence must be renounced. Her responses to his -arguments and impetuous questions were brief and substantially a -repetition of her plea that it was incumbent on them for the good of -civilization to stifle their love. He did most of the talking, she -listened, and under the influence of her resolution rebuffed him gently -from time to time, trying to make plain to him that separation was -inevitable. When they had reached Lincoln Chambers she felt it -advisable for both their sakes that he should not enter, but that they -should part with as little excitement as possible. Of what avail an -emotional scene such as would be sure to take place were she to let him -in? So she had bidden him good-by then and there, informing him that -she was to become Mrs. Wilson's secretary. She had permitted herself -finally one last hand clasp and the luxury of saying, "May God bless -you, Gordon. You have been the truest friend a woman ever had. I wish -you might be more. Good-by." Then she had fled, leaving him standing -aghast and still refusing to believe that she could be in earnest. - -After she was alone she was free to weep, and weep she did, divining, -perhaps, that the surest way to drown her grief was to let sorrow have -sway for the moment. When she faced life on the morrow, quiet and -resolute, she could not help thinking of the Catholic Sisters of -Charity whom she was in the habit of seeing on the street, whose faces -so constantly suggested that they had dispensed with earthly happiness. -But her elastic nature demanded that she should seek earthly happiness -still, and she found herself protesting against the thought that her -renunciation might sadden the remainder of her life. Was not her -sacrifice for the welfare of society? If so, it behooved her to behold -in it a real blessing over which she should rejoice. If it were not a -cause for congratulation, a real escape from evil, she was simply -worshipping a fetich as Gordon had declared. It was no case of -preference for spiritual over mundane things, but of a choice of what -was best for her as a human being. Hence she ought to find fresh zest -in life itself, not wait for future rewards. - -So she sought to deaden her senses to every thought or memory of -Gordon, and to take up her new life as a quickening privilege. The -first thing to do was to regain the complete use of her eyes, and for -this patient idleness during several months would be necessary. - -Therefore, without demur, she lived up to her promise to Mrs. Wilson by -accepting the funds necessary for her support until such time as she -should be able to assume the full duties of her position. Mrs. Wilson -made this easier for her by sending her to investigate diverse -philanthropic and sociological appeals and employing her on a variety -of errands. The present secretary had agreed to remain until Constance -could take her place, and was glad to delegate such duties as the -latter could perform. Accordingly Constance reported daily for -instructions and had the run of the office appropriated to the -secretary's use, a pretty room furnished with a convenient but artistic -desk, a typewriter and all the paraphernalia for the despatch of a -large correspondence. She longed for the day to arrive when this room -would be hers, and she could devote herself unreservedly to the -furtherance of Mrs. Wilson's wide interests. - -One evening, some fortnight after the parting between Constance and -Gordon, Loretta came bouncing into Constance's apartment. She had been -employed in one place as a nurse during that period, but had completed -her engagement the day before. She appeared to be in good spirits, and -Constance noticed that she had on a new hat and jacket more gaudy than -was her custom, as though she had spent her earnings promptly and -freely. Moreover she looked knowing. The cause of this last -manifestation was disclosed when, after a few preliminary greetings, -she exclaimed: - -"And so you've left Gordon Perry, Esq., Counsellor-at-Law!" - -"Yes. It wouldn't have been fair to Mr. Perry to ask him to wait. -Besides, Mrs. Wilson has invited me to become her private secretary. -Miss Perkins is going to be married." - -Loretta cocked her head on one side and winked an eye. She appeared -amused by this plausible explanation, which apparently was not news to -her. - -"I guess somebody else is going to be married too." - -Constance felt uncomfortable; she scented mischief. But there was -nothing to do but look innocent. - -"A little bird told me to-day that you had only to nod your head to -become Mrs. Gordon Perry, Esq." Enjoying the look of confusion which -this bold sally evoked, Loretta approached Constance and peered -mockingly into her face. - -"It's so, isn't it? You're engaged and you can't deny it. I knew it!" - -"Nothing of the kind, Loretta," she managed to articulate with decision. - -The little bird was evidently Mrs. Harrity. But the charwoman's gossip -could only have been conjecture, and of course her inquisitor knew -nothing definite. - -"Well, it's your own fault if it isn't. From what I hear he's just -crazy to get you." Loretta paused a moment; she was ferreting for -information. She seized Constance by the shoulders and fixed her again -with her shrewd gaze. "You can't fool me, Constance Stuart. There's -something in the wind. I shan't rest until I find out." - -Constance noticed that her cheeks were slightly flushed, and her eyes -unnaturally bright. Could she have been drinking? Surely not, or her -breath would have betrayed her. Doubtless it was only the excitement -of deviltry awakened by feminine curiosity. Then it occurred to -Constance to tell her. Was it not best to tell her? Loretta would -make her life miserable, so she had intimated, if she concealed the -truth. And then again, as she was sacrificing her love for a -principle, why conceal from this other struggler the vital conclusion -she had reached? It might help, or at least stimulate Loretta. She -shrank from disclosing her precious secret, but now that she was -interrogated, was it not the simplest, the most straightforward course -to confess what had happened and explain her reason? - -"Sit down, Loretta, and I will tell you." - -The girl obeyed, surveying her with an exultant mien. Constance -hesitated a moment. It was not easy to begin. "Mr. Perry and I have -talked things over. Yes, Loretta, he did ask me to marry him." - -Loretta uttered what resembled a whoop of triumph, partly to celebrate -her own perspicacity, partly by way of congratulation. "I felt sure of -it. I knew he loved you by the way he was carrying on." - -"And I loved him, but I'm not going to marry him. We are to see no -more of each other for the present. It would be wrong for me to become -his wife." - -Loretta stared as though she could not believe her ears. "Wrong? Who -says so? You don't mean to tell me you've refused him?" - -"Yes," said Constance a little sadly, for the genuineness of the -surprise expressed recalled her own perplexity in discerning an -adequate reason for the sacrifice. - -Loretta gasped. "Well, you are a fool, and no mistake! Refuse a man -like that who's crazy to marry you and whom you love! Wrong? What's -wrong about it?" - -[Illustration: "Refuse a man like that who's crazy to marry you!"] - -"It's contrary to the law of my church, which forbids a woman who has a -husband living from marrying again." - -"But he's as good as dead so far as you're concerned," interjected -Loretta. - -Without heeding this pertinent remark Constance proceeded to state the -so-called spiritual objections with succinct fervor. She felt the -desire to reiterate aloud their complete potency. - -Loretta listened closely, but with obvious bewilderment and disdain. -Even now she seemed unable to credit her companion's announcement as -genuine. - -"If your clergyman won't marry you, get a justice of the peace. That's -just as good." - -Constance shook her head. "From my point of view remarriage would be -sinful--impure." - -Loretta leaned back on the lounge where she was sitting and clasped her -hands behind her head. She appeared to be at a loss to find words to -express her feelings. - -"And you mean to tell me that you've let that man go--the man you love -and who'd give you a fine home and be a fond husband to you--for such a -reason as that?" - -"Yes," answered Constance, stanchly. - -"Then all I can say is you didn't deserve such luck. He's too good for -you." - -Loretta's conviction went so deep that she had become grave, and, so to -speak, dignified in her language. - -"He's too good for any woman I know," Constance felt impelled to -assert. "But for both our sakes, all the same, it was my duty not to -marry him. Mr. Perry knows my reasons and--and respects them." - -Constance had wondered many times what her lover's present emotions -were, but she chose to take no less than this for granted. - -"If he loves you as much as I guess he does, he must just hate you, -Constance Stuart. My! Think of throwing up a chance like that." Then -suddenly a thought occurred to Loretta, and leaning forward she asked -tensely, "Does _she_ know?" - -The suggestion of resentment on Gordon's part had been to Constance -like a dash of scalding water. The question just put served as a -restorative. - -"Mrs. Wilson? It was she who advised me to let him go. She agrees -with me entirely." - -Loretta looked astonished and disappointed; then she frowned. - -"Just because you've been married once? Not if you got a divorce?" - -"Never, so long as my husband is alive and we are liable to meet in the -flesh." - -Constance realized that her phraseology had a clerical sound; still she -felt that she had a right to the entire arsenal of the church. - -"And she believes that too, does she? Believes that it would be wicked -for a good looking, hard-working girl, whose husband had left her in -the lurch, and may be dead for all she knows or cares, to get a divorce -and marry again? And that's the Church? My! but it's the crankiest -thing I ever heard. That's the sort of thing which sets the common -folk who use their wits against religion. There's no sense in it. -She's a widow; would she refuse to marry again if the right man came -along?" - -"That's different," said Constance, perceiving that an answer was -expected. - -"And what's the difference? It's all right to be spliced to another -man in three months after the breath is out of the first one's body, as -some of them do, but impure to marry again so long as the husband who -has dragged you round by the hair of your head is liable to drop in. -If it comes to that, and marriages are made in heaven, as the clergy -say, what do the dead husbands and wives think about second marriages -anyway? I'd be real jealous if I were dead." - -"The Church has thought it all out and come to the conclusion that it -is the best rule for human society." - -Constance spoke with hurried emphasis, hoping to terminate the -discussion. She did not desire to argue the matter with Loretta; at -the same time she recognized the familiar pertinency of the allusions -to dead husbands and wives. - -Loretta detected Constance's nervous agitation. "I hate to think it of -her," she cried with sudden illumination, "but I believe she has -badgered you into it!" - -"Nothing of the kind, Loretta. It's my own free choice. Mrs. Wilson -simply made clear to me the Church's side." - -Loretta sneered. "It's downright cruel, that's what I call it. The -Church's side! The Church doesn't recognize divorce, but there's -always been ways for the rich--the folk with pull, kings and such--to -get the marriages they were tired of pronounced void from the -beginning. It was only necessary to show that they had been -god-parents to the same child, or were twenty-fifth cousins by -affinity, as it's called, or some such tomfoolery. It didn't take -Napoleon long when he wished to get rid of Josephine to induce the -Catholic Church to declare that they never had been married, though it -was a good church wedding before a cardinal. Pshaw! The Church has -fooled the people long enough. What we want is justice and common -sense." - -That same cry for justice, that same appeal to common sense; and from -what very different lips! Yet though Constance shrank from the -coarseness of the exposition, somehow the naked saliency of the -argument was more persuasive than Gordon's subtler plea. Her -instinctive compassion for the masses asserted itself. The fact that -Loretta should have touched at once the crucial point which Gordon's -trained intelligence had emphasized struck her forcibly. And after -all, what was she herself but one of the common people? But she said: - -"The scandal in Mrs. Wilson's own family has been the greatest grief -and mortification to her." - -Loretta bridled. "Yes, and when Mrs. Waldo gets her divorce in South -Dakota and comes back married again, won't everybody she cares about -receive her just the same? In six months she'll be staying in Benham -and her mother'll be inviting all the other multi-millionaires to meet -her at a big blow-out; see if she don't." She paused, and her eyes -took on a crafty look. "What do you suppose she'd say if I were to go -back to my man?" - -Constance sat bolt upright from apprehension. Loretta's air of -mystery, which was accentuated by a whispering tone, conveyed to her -the true import of the intimation. Yet she would not seem to -understand. - -"What do you mean, Loretta?" - -"My man; the father of my child. He was in town the other day. He has -found out where I am and has been plaguing me to go back to him." - -"Did he ask you to marry him?" asked Constance, seeking that solution. - -"That's not what he meant. But I've thought of that too--on baby's -account. I guess he would if I were set on it. But we're both doing -well single, and--" She stopped and laughed sarcastically--"and -supposing we didn't like each other and got divorced, I could never -marry anyone else." - -"No matter about that now, Loretta. Do you love him still?" - -"It's love that makes the world go round. There isn't much else worth -living for, I guess." She pursed her lips after this enigmatical -answer, then suddenly relaxed them in an impetuous outburst. "One -thing's sure, Constance Stuart, you don't know what love is or you'd -never have sent away Gordon Perry, Esq., Counsellor-at-Law." - -"Don't, Loretta," said Constance, imploringly. - -"It's true." - -"I love him with all my heart. You don't understand." - -"Pish! If you'd loved him as a woman loves a man when she does love -him, you'd have been married before this. Why, there's times when I -feel like going right back to my man, and I'm not what you'd call more -than moderately fond of him. If it hadn't been that I didn't want to -disappoint her--and you--I'd have done it before this. Now the next -time he comes back, I shouldn't wonder if I did." She leaned back -again on the sofa with her hands behind her head nodding doggedly, and -nursing her intention. - -Constance, appalled, went over and sat down beside her. "Oh, but you -mustn't, you mustn't! Go to-morrow to see Mrs. Wilson and talk with -her. She will give you strength and convince you that unless you marry -him such a course would be suicide, a cruel wrong to yourself, -dear--you who have done so well." - -"I've kept straight chiefly to suit her; but I don't like what she has -done to you." - -"Please leave me and my affairs out of the question, Loretta. They -have nothing to do with your preserving your own self-respect." - -"I don't know about that. If she's just like the rest; if that's a -sample of the religion and the beauty she prides herself on, I've been -fooled, you've been fooled. What's the use of being respectable if, -when true love does come, a poor, deserted woman is robbed of it for -such a reason as that?" - -It surprised Constance that Loretta should take sides so strongly, and -she perceived that the girl must have a tenderer feeling for her than -she had supposed. This made her all the more anxious to protect her. - -"I value your sympathy very much, dear, but it won't help me--it'll -only make me dreadfully unhappy if you do wrong." - -Loretta looked at her keenly. Then she took out a small phial, similar -to that which Constance had observed on another occasion, and swallowed -a pellet ostentatiously. - -"If you are troubled with the blues these are the things to take. They -brace one splendid." - -"What are they, Loretta?" - -"If you promise to take some right along, I'll tell you." But she -evidently was not eager to disclose her secret, for she promptly -replaced the phial in her pocket and said, "I'll make a bargain with -you, Constance. If you'll marry Gordon Perry, Esq., Counsellor-at-Law, -I'll keep straight." - -Constance flushed. "But I can't, dear. It's all settled." - -"He will come back if you only whistle. You know that." - -Constance let her eyes fall. She feared that it was too true. But she -could not afford to be pensive. She must be both resolute and -resourceful, for the future of this erring sister seemed to be hanging -in the balance. - -"I can never marry Mr. Perry, Loretta. But----" - -"I thought better things of you, Constance. Oh! well then I'll go back -to my man." - -"If you should do such a thing it would break Mrs. Wilson's heart." - -This seemed to Constance in her perplexity the most hopeful appeal, and -she was right, for Loretta was obviously impressed by the remark. - -"Would it?" she asked. She looked down at her large hands and let them -rise and fall in her lap like one nervously touched by sentiment. - -"I do not know of anything which would distress her more," continued -Constance. - -After a moment Loretta said, "He's away now. He won't be on this route -again for another four months. So there isn't any danger just yet." -She shrugged her shoulders. Then she rose, adding, "I guess I'll go to -bed," which was plainly an intimation that this was to be the limit of -her present concession. - -Constance was relieved, not only that immediate danger was averted, but -that the tie which bound Loretta to Mrs. Wilson, however temporarily -strained, was still strong and compelling. She rejoiced to think that -they were warned, so that they could now keep a closer watch and leave -nothing undone to save her from further degeneration. She dismissed -the subject by making some inquiries in regard to Loretta's last case. -The girl's responses were to the point and brisk, but she did not -resume her seat, and evidently had no intention of remaining. -Presently she got as far as the door, where she stood discussing for a -few moments with her hand on the knob. When at last she opened it and -was in the act of departing, she turned her head and uttered this -parting shot, which indicated what was still uppermost in her thoughts: - -"I guess that you never really loved Gordon Perry, Esq., -Counsellor-at-Law, or you couldn't have done it." - -This taunt lingered in Constance's mind, though she denied the -impeachment to herself. Was it not indeed true, as Loretta said, that -it is love which makes the world go round? Only for the sake of -righteousness was she justified as a healthy, breathing woman in -stifling this instinct. If Loretta in the future were to marry some -one other than the father of her child both the Church and Mrs. Wilson -would rejoice because the mere ceremony of marriage had been lacking in -the first relation; yet she herself was forbidden to marry the man she -loved because she was tied to a faithless husband by the mere husk of -marriage. - -She saw Loretta but two or three times before her convalescence was -complete and she had assumed her duties as Mrs. Wilson's secretary, for -Loretta was sent for again shortly, and was only at home in the -interval between her engagements. But Constance gave Mrs. Wilson -forthwith an inkling of Loretta's state of mind, though she tried to -believe that the girl's wanton threat was a mere passing ebullition due -to resentment of her reason for refusing Gordon. Nevertheless she did -not altogether like the expression of her eyes; it suggested -excitement, and predominance of that boldness which, though typical, -had been much in abeyance during the period of her regeneration. She -remembered, too, the bottle of pellets, which indicated that she was -taking some drug. So, though she could not believe that she was -seriously considering such an abhorrent proceeding, she felt it her -duty to put Mrs. Wilson on her guard. They both agreed, however, that -the culprit must be handled gingerly and not too much made of the -occurrence. Accordingly Mrs. Wilson straightway wrote to Loretta, but -her letter was a missive of interest and encouragement, not of reproach -or alarm. She deplored in it that she had lately seen but little of -her ward, owing to the latter's popularity as a nurse, and urged her to -call on her at the first opportunity. She sent her also one or two -pretty toilet articles for herself and some new frocks for her baby. -Constance said nothing, however, to Mrs. Wilson as to Loretta's -attitude toward the church regarding remarriage after divorce, for she -could not bear to renew the subject with her patroness. It was settled -forever, and her spirit craved peace. - - - - -XXIV - -It was a great relief to Constance when at last she was once more -self-supporting. Her eyes appeared to be as strong as ever, and she -found her new work congenial and absorbing. She was not merely Mrs. -Wilson's stenographer, but her factotum, expected to exercise a general -superintendence over her employer's philanthropic and social concerns, -to attend to details, and, through tactful personal interviews, to act -as a domestic buffer. The change from the practical severity of a law -office, with its dusty shelves of volumes uniformly bound in sheep, its -plain furniture and heterogeneous clientage, to her present -surroundings was both stimulating and startling. Stimulating because -it catered to her yearning for contact with ęsthetic influences to have -the run of this superb house and to be brought into daily familiar -association with all sorts of lavish expenditure in aid of beautiful -effects and beneficent purposes. Startling because the true quality of -the luxury aimed at was unknown to her until she became a constant -eye-witness. In both Mrs. Wilson's and her brother Carleton Howard's -establishments a major-domo presided over the purely domestic -relations, engaging the numerous servants, and endeavoring to maintain -such a competent staff below stairs as to ensure delicious, -superabundant food and neat, noiseless service which should emulate as -far as possible the automatic impersonality of male and female graven -images. All the appointments of the house were captivating; the pantry -closets bristled with beautiful cut glass and delicate, superbly -decorated china; flowers in great profusion and variety were brought -three times a week from Carleton Howard's private nurseries to be -tastefully arranged by a maid whose special duty it was to attend to -this and to see that those not needed for the decoration of the house -should be sent to the destinations indicated by Mrs. Wilson through her -secretary--hospitals, friends in affliction or with birthdays, and the -like. The spacious bathrooms were lined with artistic tiles; electric -lights had been adjusted in the chambers so as to provide perfect -facilities for reading in bed; once a week an attendant called to wind -all the clocks in the house. Mrs. Wilson's personal appetite was not -keen, yet exacting. Her breakfast was served in her own room, and, -unless she had company, her other meals were apt to be slight in -substance, but were invariably of a delicate, distinguished character -as regards appearance if not ingredients. Her steward had instructions -that the dinner table should be garnished with flowers and the most -luscious specimens of the fruits of the season, though she were alone. -When she had guests these effects were amplified, and her mind was -constantly on the alert to provide novelty for her entertainments. -During the first season of Constance's employment, music between the -courses--a harpist, a quartette of violinists, an orchestra--happened -to be the favorite special feature of her dinner parties. - -That first winter Mrs. Wilson had the influenza and went to Florida for -a month for recuperation, carrying her secretary with her. The journey -was made in Mr. Howard's private car, and the suite which they occupied -at the elaborate modern hotel where they stopped was the most select to -be obtained. The spectacle at this winter resort for restless -multi-millionaires was another bewildering experience for Constance. -The display of toilets and diamonds at night in the vast ornate -dining-room was dazzling and almost grotesque in its competitive -features. Mrs. Wilson preserved her distinction by a rich simplicity -of costume. She had left her most striking gowns at home, and she let -Constance perceive that her sensibilities took umbrage at this public -cockatoo emulation of wealth. She was even conspicuously simple in -regard to her food, as though she wished to shun unmistakably being -confounded with the conglomeration of socially aspiring patrons, whose -antics jarred on her conceptions of beauty. But Constance could not -avoid the reflection that profuse, if not prodigal, expenditure was -typical of her companion no less than of them, and that the distinction -was simply one of taste. What impressed her was that so many people in -the land had merely to sign a check to command what they desired, and -that the mania for novel and special comforts, and unique or gorgeous -possessions was in the air. On their way home Mrs. Wilson spent a few -days in New York shopping, having directed Constance to communicate in -advance with several dealers whose business it was to dispose of -artistic masterpieces. She bought two pictures at a cost of -twenty-five thousand dollars apiece, an antique collar of pearls, and -several minor treasures. At the same time she took advantage of the -occasion to grant an interview to two persons, a man and a woman, who -had solicited her aid in behalf of separate educational charities. To -each of these enterprises, after proper consideration, she sent her -subscription for five thousand dollars. - -Undoubtedly the chief purpose of Mrs. Wilson's stay in New York was to -see her daughter. After a three months' residence in South Dakota, -Lucille had obtained a divorce on the ground of cruelty, and had -promptly married her admirer, Bradbury Nicholson, son of the president -of the Chemical Trust. Mrs. Wilson had declined to attend the wedding, -which took place in Sioux City three days after the final decree had -been entered--a very quiet affair. Lucille had notified her mother -that it was to occur, but was not surprised that she did not take the -journey. She and her husband had spent four months in Europe to let -people get accustomed to the idea that she was no longer Mrs. Clarence -Waldo, and recently they had taken up their residence in New York. Her -new husband had three millions of his own, and, as Lucille complacently -expressed the situation to her mother, society had received them -exactly as if nothing had happened. - -"I told you how it would be, Mamma," she said. "Everybody understands -that Clarence and I were mismated. I am radiantly happy, and, as for -your granddaughter, she could not be fonder of Bradbury if he were her -own father. He has bought a thousand dollar pony for her. All the -Nicholson connection and my old friends have been giving us dinners, -which shows that we can't be disapproved of very strongly." - -Lucille certainly looked in the best spirits when she came to see her -mother. She was exquisitely dressed, and her equipage, which stood at -the door during her visit, was in the height of fastidious fashion. So -far as externals were concerned, it was manifest that she was making -good her promise to be more conservative and decorous. Mrs. Wilson saw -fit to mark her abhorrence of her daughter's course by going to a hotel -instead of to Lucille's large house on Fifth Avenue. She was not -willing to stay under her new son-in-law's roof, but how could she -avoid making his acquaintance and dining with him? A definite breach -with her only child was out of the question, as she had previously -realized; besides her grand-daughter demanded now more than ever her -oversight and affection. Consequently on the second day she dined at -the new establishment, and consented later to attend a dinner party -which was given in her honor, though Lucille kept that compliment from -her mother's knowledge until the evening arrived. She had taken pains -to secure the most socially distinguished and interesting people of her -acquaintance, and the affair was alluded to in the newspapers as one of -the most brilliant festivities of the winter. A leopard cannot -altogether change its spots, and Lucille's ruling passion was still -horses, but she desired to show her mother that she had genuinely -improved; so it happened that after the guests had returned to the -drawing-room an organ-grinder accompanied by a pleasing black-eyed -young woman, both in fresh, picturesque Italian attire, were ushered -in. They proved to be no less than two high-priced artists from the -grand opera, who, after a few preliminary capers to keep up the -illusion, sang thrilling duets and solos. When they had finished came -an additional surprise in that the organ was shown to be partially -hollow and to contain a collection of enamelled bonboničres which were -passed on trays by the servants among the delighted guests. After the -company had gone mother and daughter had an intimate talk, in the -course of which Lucille, though making no apologies, volunteered the -statement that she in common with half a dozen other women of her -acquaintance had decided to go into retirement in one of the church -sisterhoods during the period of Lent. She explained that the sisters -of her new husband, who had high church sympathies, were preparing to -do the same and that the project appealed to her. Mrs. Wilson was -electrified. It was on her lips to ask Lucille how she could reconcile -this new departure with her hasty second marriage, but she shrank from -seeming to discourage what might be an awakening of faith or even of -ęsthetic vitality in her daughter's heart. Still, though she rejoiced -in Lucille's apparent happiness and prosperity, she felt stunned at the -failure of Providence to vindicate its own just workings. Much as she -desired in the abstract that her daughter should be blessed, how was it -that so flagrant a violation of the eternal proprieties could result -not merely in worldly advancement, but an attractive home? For there -was no denying that Bradbury Nicholson was a far more engaging man than -his predecessor, and that he and Lucille were at present highly -sympathetic in their relations. Would the harmony last? It ought not -to, according to spiritual reasoning. And yet on the surface the dire -experiment had proved a success and there were indications that -permanent domestic joys and stability were likely to be the outcome of -what she considered disgrace. - -Mrs. Wilson did not condescend to refer to her daughter's immediate -past, but when she found that Lucille was brimming over with fresh -tidings concerning the other offenders, Clarence Waldo and Paul's wife, -she suffered her to unbosom herself. This news was consoling to her -from the standpoint of ethical justice. As she already was aware, Mrs. -Paul Howard, obdurate in her impatience of delay, had obtained a -divorce on the ground of cruelty in Nebraska after six months, the -statutory period necessary to acquire residence, and had then married -Clarence Waldo. Now rumor reported that the newly wedded couple, who -had been spending the present winter in Southern California for the -benefit of the second Mrs. Waldo's bronchial tubes, had not hit it off -well together, to quote Lucille, and were likely to try again. For -according to the stories of people just from Los Angeles she was -permitting a Congressman from California, the owner of large silver -mines, to dance constant attendance on her, and her husband, quite out -of conceit of her to all appearances, was solacing himself with a -pretty widow from Connecticut. - -"Of course," added Lucille, contemplatively, "if they really intend to -obtain a divorce in order to marry again, it will be convenient for -them that they happen to be in California, as that is another of the -states where one can acquire a legal residence in six months." - -Mrs. Wilson's disgust was tempered by a fierce sense of triumph. She -was glad to know the facts, but she did not wish to talk about them, -especially as she was far from clear in her mind that there was any -logical distinction to be drawn between the conduct of these -voluptuaries and that of her own child. She tossed her head as much as -to say that she desired to drop the unsavory topic. But Lucille was so -far blind to any similarity between the cases, or else so far content -with the contrast in results between the two remarriages, that she -continued in the same vein, which was pensive rather than critical. - -"I am thankful that Paul insisted on keeping Helen as a condition of -not opposing his wife's Nebraska libel, for it would have been rather -trying for the poor child to get used to three fathers in less than -three years." - -Mrs. Wilson felt like choking. The unpleasant picture intensified her -repulsion; yet she knew that speech would be no relief for she would -not find Lucille properly sympathetic. Just at that moment her -granddaughter came prancing into the room, and ran to her. Mrs. Wilson -clasped her to her breast as a mute outlet for her emotions, for she -could not help remembering that this child also had two fathers, and -what was the difference but one of degree? Yet here was its mother -smiling in her face, seemingly without qualms and perfectly happy. How -was this peace of mind to be reconciled with the eternal fitness of -things? - -Meanwhile Lucille was saying, "Tell me about Paul, Mamma. How does he -take it? What is he doing?" - -Mrs. Wilson sighed. "He was terribly cut up, of course," she answered, -gravely. "He feels keenly the family disgrace." She paused -intentionally to let the words sink in. "Fortunately for him, he has -been invited to run for Congress--that is, if he can get the -nomination. It seems there are several candidates, but your uncle -tells me Paul has the party organization behind him. The caucuses for -delegates do not meet until the early autumn, and in the meantime he -hopes to make sufficient friends in the district, which includes some -of the small outlying country towns as well as certain wards in Benham." - -"It would be nice to have Paul at Washington, for he might be able to -get the duties taken off so that our trunks wouldn't be examined when -we come from Europe. I suppose it will cost him a lot of money to be -elected." - -"I have not heard so," said her mother, stiffly. Though Mrs. Wilson's -statement was true, certain allusions in her presence by Paul and his -father had aroused the suspicion in her mind that elaborate plans to -secure the necessary number of delegates were already being laid. The -use of money to carry elections was a public evil which she heartily -deplored, and which she was loth to believe would be tolerated in her -own family. - -"He can afford it anyway," continued Lucille, disregarding the -disclaimer. - -Mrs. Wilson changed the subject. "He was also much absorbed when I -left in his new automobile." - -Lucille clapped her hands. "A red devil?" - -"That name describes its appearance admirably. It is the first one of -the kind in Benham, and naturally has excited much attention." - -"Bradbury has promised me one for a birthday present." - -"I have not ridden with Paul yet," said Mrs. Wilson a little wearily, -for the enthusiasm elicited appeared to her disproportionate to the -theme. "He has invited me once or twice, but somehow the spirit has -failed me." - -Lucille gasped. "It's the greatest fun on earth, Mamma. They -annihilate time and distance, and you feel with the rush and the wind -in your face as though you were queen of the earth. If mine runs well -we intend to tour through the continent this summer. Fancy speeding -from one capital of Europe to another in a few hours!" She paused, -then after a moment's reverie continued, as though stating a really -interesting sociological conclusion, "I think it possible, Mamma, that -if automobiles had been invented earlier, Clarence and I might not have -bored each other. Which wouldn't have suited me at all," she added, -"for Bradbury is a thousand times nicer." - -Mrs. Wilson was painfully conscious that Bradbury was infinitely nicer, -which increased the difficulties in the way of replying to this -incongruous observation. She decided to ignore it as essentially -flippant, and she rose to go. It was the nearest approach to a review -of the past which either had made during her stay in New York. - -She hoped that Constance would not appreciate how completely Lucille -had rehabilitated herself in a worldly sense, and she tried to -counteract the effect of the evidence by letting fall a remark now and -again to show that the memory of her daughter's conduct was still a -thorn in her side. As a mother she could not but be thankful that her -daughter was far happier as Mrs. Bradbury Nicholson than she had been -as Mrs. Clarence Waldo. At the same time her being so was a blow to -the theory that the exchange of one husband for another ought to end -and ordinarily does end in misery; or, in other words, that divorced -people who marry again should be and are apt to be unhappy. To be -sure, it was early to judge, and the happiness might not last; and at -best it should be regarded as a sporadic case of contradiction, a -merciful exception to the general rule; but she was glad when the day -arrived for removing Constance from the sphere of this influence, -fearing perhaps some pointed question from her secretary which would -invite her to explain how it was that a person who had deserved so -little to be happy as Lucille should have found divorce and remarriage -a blessing, if the whole proceeding in deserving cases was -fundamentally opposed to the social well-being of civilization. As an -antidote, Mrs. Wilson took pains to enlighten her as to the rumored -depravity of Clarence Waldo and the late Mrs. Howard. - -But Constance asked aloud no such question. Yet necessarily she -perceived that Lucille was in the best of spirits, and apparently had -suffered no loss of position by her conduct. Constance did not need, -however, any reminder from Mrs. Wilson that the late Mrs. Waldo was not -a person of the finest sensibilities; moreover she considered the point -as definitely settled for herself. Nevertheless as a spectator, if no -more, she noted the circumstance that Lucille was already a different -woman in consequence of her second marriage, and she detected her -reason challenging her conscience with the inquiry which Mrs. Wilson -had dreaded, how it appeared that the world would have been better off -if Lucille had simply left the husband who had been faithless to her, -and remained single instead of marrying. Constance was merely -collecting evidence, as it were. All was over between her and Gordon, -but as an intelligent, sentient human being she had no intention of -playing the ostrich, but insisted on maintaining an open mind. - -It was now nearly a year since she had conversed with Gordon. Her -sentence had been perpetual banishment from his presence since the -fateful Sunday when they had parted. He had written to her that he -could not bear to resume the old relation, for now that they knew they -had been lovers in disguise, it could not be the old relation. He had -declared that the best thing for them both was never to meet, and she -had been forced to accept his decision, for he had not been to see her -since. Yet he had mitigated the rigor of her punishment, for she chose -to regard it as such, by occasional letters, written at irregular -intervals, letters which let her know beyond the shadow of a doubt that -the love he cherished for her was strong and deep as ever. He sent her -beautiful flowers on Christmas and her birthday, and in writing to her -he told her briefly whatever of special interest he had been doing. -Precious as these communications were to Constance, she was of several -minds as to whether to answer them. Her impulse always was to reply at -once, if only that she might draw forth another letter; but sometimes -her scruples forced her not to let him see how much she cared and to -feign indifference by silence. She knew, as Loretta said, that she had -only to whistle and he would come to her, and she felt that it would be -cruel to give him the smallest encouragement to believe that she could -ever alter her decision. This being so, she argued that he ought to -marry; he must forget her and chose someone else. She tried to believe -that she would rejoice to hear that he was engaged to another woman, -but when her thoughts got running in this channel she was apt to break -down and realize that she had been trying to deceive herself. In such -moments of revulsion she now and then would throw her scruples to the -winds and write him about herself and her doings. On two occasions she -had suddenly decided that it was necessary for her to see him again; -see him without his seeing her. Consequently she had frequented a spot -down-town where she knew he would pass, and each time had been rewarded -by a close and unobserved glimpse of his dear features. These -glimpses, the letters, and the flowers were the bright shining -milestones along the itinerary of her much occupied life. Busy and -interested as she was in her employment, it sometimes seemed to her -that she walked in a trance in the intervals between some word or sign -from him. - -[Illustration: The flowers were the bright, shining milestone.] - -Delighted as she had been to travel, to see such a diverse panorama of -national life as her trip to Florida and New York afforded, she was -glad to find herself again at home. She had not heard from Gordon -during her absence, and she was eager to see the Benham newspapers -again in order to ascertain what he had been doing in his new capacity -as a legislator. He had written to her the preceding autumn that he -had decided to allow the use of his name as a candidate for the State -Assembly, and subsequently he had been elected. Before her departure -in the early days of the session, she had kept her eyes and ears on the -alert for public mention of him, but had been informed that this was -the period for committee conferences and that the opportunity for -debate would come after the bills had been framed and were before the -house. Constance knew that Gordon had the strong support of the -Citizens' Club in his canvass, that Hall Collins, Ernest Bent and -others affiliated with that organization had conducted rallies in his -behalf, and that he was expected to favor progressive legislation. -There were certain philanthropic measures in which Mrs. Wilson was -interested also before the Assembly, and Constance had twice already -prepared letters from her employer to Gordon in reference to these, -which was another slight opportunity for keeping in touch with him. - -Shortly after Mrs. Wilson's return from her vacation it happened that -Paul invited her again to ride in his automobile. Recalling Lucille's -enthusiasm, and having been partial all her life to new ęsthetic -sensations, she concluded to test the exhilaration described by those -who doted on these machines. The afternoon chosen was one of those -days in the early spring when sky and wind combine to simulate the -balminess of summer. It was a satisfaction for Paul to have his aunt -beside him both because he admired her and because, seeing that he -regarded her as what he called a true sport at bottom, he felt -confident that she had only to experience the sensation of speed to -become an enthusiast like himself. Therefore, he let his red devil -show what it could do, in the hope of carrying her by storm. Equipped -with suitable wraps and a pair of goggles, Mrs. Wilson found the -process of whirling through the country at a breakneck pace, by the -mere compression of a lever, a weird and rather magnetic ordeal. These -were the adjectives which she employed to express her gratification to -her nephew. She was glad to have tried it, but in her secret soul she -had grave doubts if it were the sort of thing she liked. Nevertheless -she did her best to appear delighted, for she had in mind to drop a few -words of warning in Paul's ear to the effect that it was incumbent on -men of his class in the community to preserve their self-respect in the -matter of electioneering as an example to the country at large. In the -intervals when Paul moderated the speed she endeavored to convey to him -clearly but not too concretely the substance of her solicitude. She -let him realize that she had him and his campaign in mind, but that she -did not intend to meddle beyond the limit of emphasizing a principle -unless he were to ask her advice. Paul listened to what she had to say -with evident interest, and without interruption. He even let his -machine crawl along so as to get the complete benefit of her -exposition. When she had set forth her views she turned toward him and -said in conclusion, by way of showing that she made no charges but -simply desired to put him on his guard: - -"Very likely you have thought this all out for yourself and intend to -see that every dollar you may use is expended legitimately." - -Paul let the automobile come to a halt, and removing his goggles -proceeded to wipe off the dust and moisture. - -"Aunt Miriam, every word which you've said is gospel truth; but--and it -is a large but--if I were to follow your advice to the letter there -would not be the slightest possibility of my securing the nomination. -I've thought it all out, as you say, and I'd give gladly to charity -twice the sum I shall be compelled to spend, if I could only confine my -outlay to legitimate expenses, stationery, printing and the hiring of a -few halls. I've no objection to explaining to you why I can't, -provided I wish to keep in the running. There are three men including -myself in this district," he continued, starting the lever, "who are -bidding for the nomination. Each of us has a machine, a machine the -function of which is to create enthusiasm. Ninety per cent. of the -candidates for public office do not inspire enthusiasm; they have to -manufacture it. And there are all sorts of ways of doing so; by paying -club assessments and equipping torch-light paraders with uniforms; by -invading the homes of horny-handed proletarians and sending tennis or -ping-pong sets to their progeny; or by the solider, subtler method of -large direct cash payments, which can never be detected, to a certain -number of local vampires as expenses for influence, and whose _quid pro -quo_ is the delivery of the goods at the polls. I have engaged a -smooth and highly recommended patriot at a high salary to conduct my -canvass. He has told me there will be large expenses. When he asks -for money I draw a check and ask no questions--a rank coward's way I -admit. I know nothing as to what he does with the money, and so I -salve my conscience after a fashion." Paul shrugged his shoulders and -applied a little more power to the automobile, while he chanted: - - "Some naturalists observe the flea - Has smaller fleas on him to prey, - And these have smaller still to bite 'em, - And so proceed _ad infinitum_. - - -"Which means, my dear aunt," he continued, "that when a rich man runs -for office a certain proportion of the free-born consider that they are -entitled to direct or indirect pickings in return for a vote." - -Mrs. Wilson sighed. "But is not the price too high for a free-born -citizen to pay? Why exchange private life and the herbs of personal -respect for publicity and a stalled ox which is tainted?" - -"I've thought occasionally of getting out, but father would be -disappointed. I wish to go to Congress myself and the party wishes me -to go. And what would be the result if I retired? One of the other -two would win, and I don't throw any large bouquet at myself in stating -that I shall make a much more useful and disinterested Congressman than -either of them." - -Mrs. Wilson shook her head, but at the same time she appreciated the -difficulties of the situation. For she herself desired to see her -nephew go to Washington. It was one thing to tell him to take a brave -stand and refuse to swerve from the path of highest political probity, -another to advise him in the midst of the canvass to dismiss his -manager and thus invite certain defeat. It sometimes seemed to her -that the ways of the world of men were past understanding. She -wondered whether, if human affairs were in the hands of women, the -rivalry of politics and the competition of commercialism would tolerate -the same army of highwaymen who held up would-be decent citizens as -successfully and appallingly as Dick Turpin and Claude Duval. She -liked to believe that complete purity would reign, and yet the memory -of what some women to her knowledge were capable of in the bitterness -of club politics served as a caveat to that deduction. Discouraging as -Paul's observations were, as bearing on the ethical progress of human -nature, and deeply as she deplored the fact that he appeared to be -winking at bribery, she recognized that she had shot her bolt, for she -was not sufficiently conversant with the different grades of -electioneering impropriety to be willing to take on herself the -responsibility of imploring him to retire, even if he would consent to -do so. But the confession had robbed the day of much of its beauty for -her. She glanced at the little clock in the dashboard, and remembering -that she desired to leave a message for her secretary, to whom she had -given an afternoon off, she asked Paul if he would return home by way -of Lincoln Chambers. - -It happened that in turning something went wrong, so that the -automobile came to a stop. Paul was obliged to potter over the -mechanism a quarter of an hour before he was able to get the better of -the infirmity. Somewhat nettled, and eager to make up for lost time -and to demonstrate to his companion that in spite of this mishap a red -devil was the peer of all vehicles, he forced the pace toward Benham. -By the time he was within the city limits his blood was coursing in his -veins as the result of the impetus, and he felt on his mettle to amaze -the onlookers as he sped swiftly and dexterously through the streets. -Gliding from avenue to avenue without misadventure he applied a little -extra power as they flew down that street around one corner of which -stood Lincoln Chambers, in order to make an impressive finish. In -turning he described an accurate but short circle, so that the -automobile careened slightly, causing Mrs. Wilson to utter an -involuntary murmur. Paul, amused at her nervousness, suffered his -attention to be diverted for an instant; the next he realized that a -young child, darting from the sidewalk, was in the direct path of the -rapidly moving machine. He strained every nerve to prevent a -collision, shutting off the power and endeavoring to deflect the -vehicle's course so that it might strike the curbstone to their own -peril rather than the child's; but the catastrophe was complete almost -before he realized that it was inevitable. There was a sickening bump, -accompanied by the screams of women; the red devil had overwhelmed and -crushed the little victim, and stood panting and shaking like a rudely -curbed dragon. - -Paul jumped from his seat and lifted the child from the gutter into -which it had been hurled and where it lay ominously still with its head -against the curbstone. He found himself face to face with two women, -in one of whom he recognized his aunt's secretary. The other with an -assertive agony which made plain her right to interfere, sought to take -the child from him--a flaxen-haired girl of about four--exclaiming: - -"Oh, what have you done? You've killed her. You've killed her." - -Meanwhile Mrs. Wilson, utterly shocked, sought to keep her head as the -only possible amelioration of the horror. She whispered in Paul's ear: -"There's a drug store opposite. We'll take her there first and send -for a doctor." At the same time she put her arm around the mother's -shoulder, and said, "Let him carry her, Loretta, dear. It is best so." - -Loretta Davis desisted, though she stared wildly in her patron's face. - -"The blood--the blood," she cried, pointing to the tell-tale streaks on -the child's head. "I'm sure she's dead." - -Acting on his aunt's suggestion, Paul bounded across the way with the -limp form clasped in his arms. While those immediately concerned -endeavored with the aid of the apothecary to ascertain that the -injuries were not grave, a curious crowd began to gather in the store. -By the time that the trial of the ordinary restoratives had made clear -that the child was already beyond the aid of medicine, though Mrs. -Wilson and Constance wrung their hands and counted the seconds in hope -that the physician telephoned for would arrive, a reporter, a -policeman, and a doctor appeared on the scene. The physician, who -happened to be passing, was Dr. Dale, the oculist with the closely cut -beard and incisive manner who had attended Constance. A moment's -inspection sufficed him for a verdict. - -"There is nothing to be done," he said. - -At the fell words a wave of anguish passed through the group. Paul -allowed Mrs. Wilson to take the baby from him; and, overwhelmed beyond -the point of control, he bowed his head in his hands, and burst into -tears. His aunt reverently clasped the stiffening form to her bosom -regardless of the oozing blood which mottled her cloak. - -"We must get Loretta home as quickly as possible," she whispered to -Constance, and she started to lead the way so as to save the situation -from further publicity. - -But now that the doctor's usefulness was at an end, the two other -representatives of social authority advanced their claims for -recognition. The police officer, having relegated the gaping -spectators to a respectful distance, began to inquire into the -circumstances of the accident, in which he was ably surpassed by the -agent of the press, who, note-book in hand, had already been collecting -material from the bystanders and composing a sketch of the surroundings -before interviewing the principals. Paul gave his name and address, -and made no attempt to disguise his responsibility for the tragedy. -Mrs. Wilson, finding her way barred by the two functionaries, -grudgingly gave similar information in the hope that they would be -allowed to escape. As she bore the victim in her arms, this would have -been the result had not Loretta, who was following close behind under -the supervision of Constance, and who up to this point had seemed dazed -by the proceedings, suddenly realized what was taking place. She -clutched Constance's arm. - -"Will it be in the newspapers?" she inquired with feverish interest. - -The reporter overheard her inquiry. "You are the mother of the little -girl, madam?" he asked, addressing her, pencil in hand. - -"Yes. She is my only child." - -"Your name is?" - -"Loretta Davis." - -"And the child's?" - -"Tottie. She would have been five in a few weeks." - -The reporter perceived that he had found a responsive subject. "I lost -a little girl of just that age two years ago," he volunteered -sympathetically. "Is there a photograph of Tottie which you could let -me have for the press? The public would like to see what she looked -like." - -Loretta's eyes sparkled. She thrust her hand in her pocket and drew -forth a photographer's envelope. "Isn't it lucky," she cried, "I got -these proofs only yesterday, and they're the living image of my baby." - -As she hastily removed the package from her pocket, together with her -handkerchief, Loretta let a small bottle slip to the floor. Constance, -who was spellbound with dismay at the turn of affairs, stooped -mechanically to pick it up. She recognized the pellets lauded by -Loretta. In doing so her head nearly bumped against that of Dr. Dale, -who was intent on a similar purpose. He got possession of the bottle, -and instinctively he glanced at the label before transferring it to -Constance. She observed that he shrugged his shoulders. As she put -out her hand to take it from him, she said in a low, resolute tone: - -"Will you tell me what those are?" Then as the physician regarded her -searchingly, she added, "I have a special reason for asking. I wish to -befriend her." - -"Cocaine tablets," answered Dr. Dale. "The woman has the appearance of -a drug habitué." - - - - -XXV - -In parting with the Rev. Mr. Prentiss without personal rancor and yet -with an open avowal of his conviction that Constance would marry him in -the end, Gordon Perry both made an admission and issued a challenge. -His admission on the surface was simply that he recognized the rector's -sincerity. In his own consciousness it went further; he recognized the -validity of the conflict between them to an extent which he had up to -this time failed to perceive, or at least to acknowledge. - -The effect of this was to intensify the ardor of his convictions, but -at the same time to cause him as a lawyer to respect his opponent's -position, though he believed it to be utterly false. The interview had -been absorbing to him sociologically, for it had crystallized in his -own mind as concrete realities certain drifts or tendencies of which he -had been aware, but which he had hitherto never formulated in words. -Now that the occasion was come for doing so, the indictment--for it was -that--had risen spontaneously to his lips. It was clear to him, as he -had informed Mr. Prentiss, that there was a direct strife in American -social evolution between those who sought eternal truth through the -free processes of the human spirit and those who accepted it distilled -through an hierarchy. - -Just as in his sociological perplexities Gordon, yearning to be a sane -spirit, had abstained from radicalism and had sought relief in concrete -practical activities, he had watched the theological firmament and had -felt his way. If he realized that the Christian organizations which -saw in the human soul a dignity which rejected mediation were merely -holding their own as formal bodies, he comforted himself with the -knowledge that the thousands of men and women who rarely entered the -churches--among them many of the most thoughtful and busiest workers in -the land--were to a unit sympathizers with the creed of soul-freedom -and soul-development. Not merely this; he knew that among orthodox -worshippers the secret belief of the majority of the educated already -rejected as superfluous or antiquated most of the old dogmas. But with -his reverence for religion as an institution, Gordon had no ambition to -outstrip his generation; simply to be in the van of it. There was no -attraction for him in iconoclasm; he craved illumination, yet not at -the expense of rationalism. Now suddenly the practical issue of the -Church's interference with the State, of the Church's imposition on -mankind of a cruel, inflexible ideal, labelled as superior purity, had -become both an immediate and a personal concern. His soul felt seared -as by an iron; all his instincts of sympathy with common humanity, the -helpless victims of an arbitrary aim to preserve the family at the -expense of the blameless individual, were aroused and intensified. -Viewed as a general issue, Gordon felt no question as to the outcome. -Was it not already decided? The Church had never ceased to deplore as -usurpation society's constantly louder claim the world over of the -right to regulate marriage, but without avail. It was only abuse by -the State which had produced a reaction and given sacerdotalism another -chance. But the particular, the personal issue, was a very different -matter. For him it meant everything, and his whole being revolted at -the possibility of losing the great joy of life through such a -misapprehension of spiritual duty on the part of her who, so far as he -was concerned, was the one woman in existence. Yet during the next -weeks following the interview with the clergyman he experienced a sense -of flatness which was almost despondency, for he realized that he had -exhausted his resources. Mr. Prentiss had refused to aid him; on the -contrary, had virtually defied him by expressing a triumphant -conviction that Constance's decision was final. Could it be that she, -whose lucidity of mind he had been wont to admire, would refuse to -understand that the barrier which seemed to separate them was but an -illusion? Surely it was not for the good of the world that true -love--its most vital force--should be starved because the marriage tie -was played fast and loose with by others. And yet he appreciated -apprehensively the subtlety of this plea for the world's good; how -modern it was, and how attractive to woman when made the motive for the -exercise of renunciation. Truly, the priest had argued shrewdly, yet -Gordon refused to admit that Constance could be deceived for long. -That seemed too incompatible with her previous outlook and their -delightful comradeship which had held love in disguise. - -He concluded forthwith that his best hope lay in terminating that -comradeship. To resume it would make them brother and sister, a -relation tantalizing to him, and which might be better than nothing to -her, and thus strengthen her resolve. Accordingly, with Spartan -courage, he never visited her. But he chose by his letters and his -gifts to let her know unequivocally that he was waiting for her to -relent--would wait until the end of time. He wrote to her that her -dear image was the constant inspiration of his thoughts, and that he -sighed for the sound of her voice. - -While thus he chafed within, and yet endeavored to pursue his work as -earnestly as though he had been able to forget, he received and -accepted an invitation from the Citizens' Club to become a candidate -for the State Assembly. He saw in this both relief and an incentive; -public service would tend to divert and refresh his thoughts, and -opportunity would be afforded him to promote legislation. It would -suit him to become a member of the free parliament of men where, -whatever its abuses and shortcomings, the needs of ordinary humanity -were threshed out, and where true, practical reforms were piece by -piece won from the vested traditions of the past. - -At the same time he declared to the members of the committee which -waited on him that in accepting their nomination he was not to be -understood as offering himself to the voters as a denunciatory radical -or as advocating all the so-called grievances aired at the Citizens' -Club. His words were, "I agree to support every measure which I -believe would be an immediate benefit to the community from the -standpoint of justice and public usefulness. If you are content with -that guarded generalization, I shall be proud to serve you; but if you -insist on my playing the demagogue or wearing the livery of the enemies -of constituted society, I must decline the nomination." - -"That's all right," asserted Hall Collins, who was the spokesman. -"What we want this trip are two or three new pieces of timber in the -ship of state, repairs we'll call them if you like it so, and we've -chosen you as carpenter for the job. Side with us when you can, and -when you can't we'll know you're honest." - -This voiced the sentiment of the Citizens' Club, and it was no -disparagement to the sincerity of its action that those who directed -the club's affairs cherished hopes that the nominee, through his -standing, would gain support from other quarters than the radical -element and thus be more likely to win. Their hopes were justified. -Gordon had a comfortable majority in his district, though it was -understood that he had affiliations with so-called socialists and labor -reformers. - -During the first year of his service as a legislator he made no effort -to fix public attention on himself by forensic readiness. He was -studying the methods of procedure and familiarizing himself with the -personnel of the assembly. But though his name did not appear -conspicuously in the press notices--which was a disappointment to a -certain lady constantly on the watch for it--this did not mean that he -failed to attract the attention of his associates. On the contrary, -his thoroughness, patience, and fairness were soon recognized, and when -he rose to speak--which he did more frequently in the later weeks of -the session in relation to bills of importance where the vote was -likely to be close--the members paid attention as though they were glad -to know his reasons. It was perceived that he inclined to the party of -progress rather than to the conservatives, but that he did not hesitate -to turn a cold shoulder towards or to rebuke mere blatherskite or -visionary measures. - -A modern legislature has to deal with questions which vitally affect -the development of the body politic; the relations of powerful -corporations to the public and it to them; the demands of toiling -bread-winners for shorter hours of labor and hygienic safeguards, and -the newly fermented strife between the right to hold and the obligation -to share the fruits of the earth and the profits of superior ability -and industry. These were problems which particularly interested -Gordon, and, as one by one they arose for action, he sought to solve -each on its merits without prejudice and with an eye to justice. It -was understood that he would be a candidate for the next assembly, and -in making their forecast the sophisticated referred to him as a coming -leader, one of the men who would control the balance of power by force -of his intelligence and independence. The Citizens' Club was content -with the part which he had played. Several measures in which it was -interested had become law through his advocacy; others, though -defeated, had gained ground; two notable bills conferring valuable -franchises for next to nothing upon plausible capitalists had been -exposed and given their quietus in spite of a persistent lobby; and the -candidate had promised during the next session to press the bill for a -progressive legacy tax, an amendment to the existing legacy tax law, -which would increase the sum levied in progressive ratio with the size -of every estate transferred by death. This was a reform which Hall -Collins and his intimates had at heart, and they had won Gordon to -their side as an enthusiastic supporter of its essential -reasonableness. The bill had been killed in committee for the past two -years; yet the present year the adverse report had been challenged in -the house and had been sustained by a comparatively small majority -after strenuous and excited appeals to what was termed the sober, -conservative sense of the American people. Gordon's speech in behalf -of the measure was listened to with a silence which suggested a desire -for enlightenment. After the debate was over there had been prophecies -that another year it would stand a good chance of passing. - -It was toward the close of Gordon's first session in the assembly that -the harrowing death of Loretta's child occurred, and, owing to the -prominence of the parties concerned in the homicide, which was the -first automobile accident in Benham, became town talk. The newspaper -artists illustrated the tragedy with drawings of the red devil in the -act of striking the victim, portraits of everybody concerned, from -Tottie to the apothecary into whose shop she had been carried, and -camera cuts of the obsequies. There were appropriate editorials on the -iniquity of allowing furious engines to be propelled at a rapid rate -through the streets; and sensational conflicting rumors were rife in -the news columns as to the amount by which the repentant -multi-millionaire had sought to idemnify the mother for his -carelessness. Conjecture fixed it at various sums from one thousand to -fifty thousand dollars, and one imaginative scribe conjured up the -information that Tottie was to be replaced as far as possible by the -most beautiful baby which the Howard family could procure by search or -advertisement. - -In his genuine distress for the irreparable evil he had wrought Paul -Howard had gone straightway to Loretta to pour out his contrition and -to express a willingness to make such amends as were possible for the -catastrophe. He saw her twice; the first time on the day following the -accident, when she appeared excited but dazed; the second on the -morning after the funeral. Then her condition of mind bordered closely -on exaltation as the result of being the temporary focus of public -attention. She was surrounded by newspapers, and she insisted on -calling Paul's notice to all the reportorial features. With special -pride she made him note a cut which showed that the coffin had been -piled high with the most exquisite flowers--a joint contribution from -Mrs. Wilson and himself. Loretta's own apartment was also a bower of -roses from the same sympathizing source, and the young woman was in her -best dress-festal mourning--as though she were expecting visitors. -Paul found some difficulty in broaching the question of indemnity. He -was in the mood to draw his check for any sum in reason which the -bereaved mother should declare to be satisfactory compensation for her -loss even though it were excessive, so that he might adjust the matter -then and there. He had every intention of being generous; moreover he -knew that all this publicity concerning the accident was injuring his -canvass for the Congressional nomination, and he hoped to create a -reaction in his favor by behaving handsomely. But Loretta, though she -obviously understood what he was driving at, evaded the topic, and -when, in order to clinch matters, he told her in plain terms that he -wished to make her a present and asked her to name the sum, she looked -knowing and suspicious, as much as to say that she knew her rights and -had no intention of committing herself. - -Paul, who mistook her contrariness for diffidence, was on the point of -naming an amount which would have made her open her eyes when she -suddenly said with a leer intended to convey the impression of -shrewdness: - -"I'm going to talk with my lawyer first. People say it was all your -fault, and that I ought to get a fortune. I've witnesses for my side." - -Paul was taken aback. "It was all my fault. I've told you already -that I was entirely to blame. And I'm anxious for you to tell me how -much I ought to pay as damages. So there won't be any need of a lawyer -on either side." - -Loretta argued to herself that she was not to be caught by any such -smooth words. She tossed her head. - -"I don't know about that. I'm going to get one of the smartest -attorneys in Benham to attend to my case." She waited a moment, then -added triumphantly, believing that her announcement would carry dismay -to her crafty visitor, "It's Gordon Perry, Esq., Counsellor-at-Law." - -"Gordon Perry?" - -Loretta construed his inflection of astonishment as consternation. - -"Yes," she said, "I'm going to consult him this afternoon." - -It was on Paul's lips to inform her that Gordon was his lawyer too, but -her uncompromising attitude had produced its natural effect, and he -felt at liberty to practise a little craft in his turn. If he were to -disclose the truth, she would be likely to consult someone else; -whereas Gordon and he could come to terms speedily. So he merely -responded that he knew Mr. Perry to be an excellent attorney, and that -he would be content to abide by his decision. - -The final settlement required some diplomacy on Gordon's part on -account of the difference in point of view between the contracting -parties. Loretta had definitely fixed on ten thousand dollars as the -Mecca of her hopes, than which, as she declared to Gordon at their -first interview, she would not accept a cent less; whereas Paul was -disposed to make her comfortable for life by a donation of twenty-five -thousand. He naturally had discussed the subject with his aunt, and -this was the sum which had been agreed on between them as fitting. -Mrs. Wilson was overwhelmed by the disaster; it haunted her thoughts; -and, though she remembered Loretta's original indifference regarding -the child, it seemed to her that the only possible expiation would be a -princely benefaction, such as would thrill the bereaved recipient. But -when she in her turn mentioned the matter to Constance, the latter, who -had been mulling over the insinuation uttered by Dr. Dale, informed her -what he had said. The effect of this intelligence was to strengthen -the purpose which Mrs. Wilson and Paul had already formed to have the -gift tied up so that Loretta could use only the income, and thus be -protected indefinitely against designing companions and herself. But -when Gordon, who had abstained from revealing the extent of Paul's -intended liberality, suggested this arrangement, he encountered sour -opposition from his client. It was manifest that Loretta had set her -heart on being complete mistress of the ten thousand dollars, and that -any curtailment of her power to exhibit it and spend it as she saw fit -would be a bitter disappointment. Either she did not understand, or -declined to understand what was meant by a trust, and plainly she -regarded the proposition as a subterfuge on the part of the donor to -keep his clutch on the money. Gordon endeavored to reason with her and -to show her the disinterested wisdom of the plan, but she shook her -head no less resolutely after he had finished. When her repugnance was -stated to Paul, he bade Gordon pay her the ten thousand dollars in cash -and say nothing about the remainder. He added good-naturedly: - -"I suppose it's natural enough that she should like to finger the -money. Let her blow it in as she chooses, and when it's gone I'll -settle an annuity on her." - -Loretta came to Constance on the following day with glittering eyes and -exhibited her treasure-trove--a bank book and a roll of bills. - -"It's all there," she said. "My lawyer went with me and he saw me hand -it all over except this hundred dollars to the man in the cage. My -lawyer made me count it first. He's smart--Gordon Perry, Esq., -Counsellor-at-Law. I'm rich now." - -"But you will go on nursing just the same, won't you, Loretta? It's -your profession, you know." - -Loretta looked non-committal. "Perhaps. But I'm going to take a rest -first and--and buy a few things." She spread out proudly the new crisp -bank bills like a pack of cards. "I've never been able to buy anything -before." - -Solicitous as she felt regarding the future, Constance had not the -heart to repress sympathy with this radiant mood. Blood money as it -was, it would, nevertheless, mean many pleasures and comforts to the -pensioner. It was no time for advice or for extracting promises of -good behavior. So in a few words she showed the approach to envy which -was expected of her. - -By way of recompense, or because she had been waiting for -congratulations to be paid first, Loretta presently paused, looked -knowing, and giving Constance a nudge whispered oracularly, as one -whose views were now entitled to respectful consideration, "I sounded -him about you, Constance, and it's all right. I could see it is, -though I guess he didn't like much my speaking. And what do you -suppose I told him? That he mustn't get discouraged, for one had only -to look at you to know that you were perfectly miserable without him." - -"How dare you tell him such a thing? What right had you to meddle?" -cried Constance, beside herself with anger and humiliation. She -clenched her hands; she wished that she might throw herself upon this -arch, complacent busybody and box her ears. "This is too much! -Besides, it is not true--it is not true." - -"True? Of course it's true. And why should you mind its being true if -you love him? I was trying to help you, Constance, so there's no use -in getting mad." - -Obviously Loretta on her side was surprised at the reception accorded -her good offices, and at a loss to explain such an abnormal outburst on -the part of her habitually gentle comrade. Perception of this swiftly -checked the current of Constance's wrath, but, as her equanimity -returned, the eyes of her mind became pitilessly fixed on herself. -Perfectly miserable! Was not that indeed the real truth? And true not -only of her but of him? Of him, who had told her that she was -sacrificing the joy of both their lives to a fetich. Loretta's rude -probing had made one thing clear--that it was futile to try longer to -persuade herself that she was happy. - -Yet her reply was, "I take you at your word, Loretta, that you meant no -harm. Please remember, however, hereafter that my relations with Mr. -Perry are a subject not to be spoken of to either of us, if you do not -wish to be unkind." - -Loretta stared, and laughed as though she suspected that this appeal -was designed to put her off the scent. But she was too much absorbed -in her own altered status to care to bandy words on the matter. Two -days later she disappeared from Lincoln Chambers. But the fact of her -absence awakened no concern in the mind of Constance for several weeks -inasmuch as she had gathered from Mrs. Harrity that Loretta had gone to -another patient. But presently it transpired that she had taken all -her belongings with her, and had made the charwoman promise to make no -mention of that mysterious fact for the time being. Mrs. Harrity could -throw no further light on the lodger's exodus, but admitted that under -the spell of one of the crisp new bills she had asked no questions and -subsequently held her tongue. - -Constance immediately imparted her fears to Mrs. Wilson, who instituted -promptly a search through the police authorities. Investigation -disclosed that a woman answering to the description of Loretta had been -seen at some of the restaurants and entertainment resorts of flashy -character in the company of a man with whom there was reason to believe -she had left town. It was found also on inquiry at the bank where here -funds had been placed that the entire deposit had been withdrawn some -three weeks subsequent to the date when the account was opened. - -Confronted with this disagreeable intelligence Mrs. Wilson felt aghast. -It occasioned her grievous personal distress that her ward should have -fallen so signally from grace at the very moment when the spirit of -righteousness should have triumphed, and she was displeased to think -that her philanthropic acumen had been at fault. But the elasticity of -her spirit presently prevailed, and it was with an exculpating sense of -recovery and of illumination which was almost breathless that she said -to Constance: - -"I fear that we must face the fact that she is a degenerate; one of -those unhappy beings whom the helping hands of society are powerless to -uplift because of their inherent preference for evil." - -Upon her lips the word "degenerate" had the sound of the ring of fate -and of modern scientific sophistication withal. - - - - -XXVI - -A year later, in the early days of spring and the closing weeks of the -next State Assembly, Carlton Howard and his son Paul sat conversing in -Mrs. Wilson's study. They had been dining with her, and on rising from -the table she had invited them to keep her company in her private -apartment while she busied herself with matters incident to the -entertainment she was to give in a little more than a week to the -members of the American Society for the Discussion of Social Problems, -as the crowning festivity to its four days' meeting in Benham. - -Mrs. Wilson was elated over the opportunity to mingle the thoughtful -people of the country--some of whom, as seen at annual meetings of the -society elsewhere, appeared to her to have cultivated intellectual -aptness at the expense of the graces of life--and Benham's fashionable -coterie. She reasoned that the experience would be stimulating for -both, and with her secretary at her elbow she was absorbed in planning -various features to give distinction to the event. Her hospitality, -from one point of view, would not be the first of its kind in the -annals of the society, for at each of the last two meetings--the one in -Chicago, the other in St. Louis--there had been an attempt to entertain -the members more lavishly than hitherto. So in a sense she felt -herself on her mettle to set before her visitors the best which Benham -afforded, and so effectively as to eclipse the past and at the same -time bring a little nearer that appropriate blending between beauty and -wisdom to which she looked forward as an ultimate social aim. - -She had been of many minds as to what form her entertainment should -take, and had finally settled on this programme: Dinner was to be -served at her house to the seventy-five visiting and resident members -and a sprinkling of Benham's most socially gifted spirits, at little -tables holding six or eight. A reception was to follow, to which the -rest of her acquaintance was invited to meet the investigators of -social problems. At this there was to be a vaudeville performance by -artists from New York, after which, before supper, six of Benham's -prettiest and most fashionable girls were to pass around, as keepsakes -for the visitors, silver ornaments reminiscent of Benham in their shape -or design. Mrs. Wilson was not wholly satisfied with this programme; -she was conscious that it lacked complete novelty and was not -ęsthetically so convincing as some of her previous efforts; but -considering the numbers to be fed--and she was determined that these -thoughtful pilgrims should taste delicious food faultlessly served for -once in their lives--she could think of no more subtle form of -hospitality which would give them the opportunity to realize the -artistic significance of her establishment. - -There were so many things to be attended to, a portion of which -occurred to her on the spur of the moment, that Mrs. Wilson had -requested her secretary to make long working hours, and occasionally, -as on this day, to protract them through the evening. Constance was at -her desk in the room appropriated to her use, which led out of Mrs. -Wilson's study. The door was open, and where she sat it was easy to -distinguish the conversation which went on there. When Mrs. Wilson -needed her she touched a silver bell far more melodious in its tone -that the squeak of electric communication. Constance had already -exchanged greetings with her employer's brother and nephew, whose -random dialogue, broken by the digestive pauses which are apt to occur -after a good dinner, provided a cosey stimulus to Mrs. Wilson's -musings. Mrs. Wilson enjoyed the feeling that she was in the bosom of -her family, and that, at the same time, absorbed in her cogitations, -she need give no more than a careless ear to the talk of railroad -earnings and other purely masculine concerns. She was pleased too by -the knowledge that Lucille was coming in a few days to pay her a visit, -bringing her granddaughter and the new Nicholson baby, a boy. Her new -son-in-law also was coming, and she could not help feeling elated at -the prospect of letting Benham see that the marriage which ought to -have been a failure had turned out surprisingly well, and that her -daughter was a reputable and somewhat elegant figure in society--not -exactly the woman she had meant her to be, but immeasurably superior to -what she had at one time feared. She was aware in her heart that -logically, according to her standards, Lucille was not a person to be -made much of socially, and yet she intended her and her husband to be a -feature of her entertainment, and she felt sure that her acquaintance -would regard them as such. Though the inconsistency troubled her, -inducing, if she stopped to think, spiritual qualms, maternal instinct -jealously stifled reflection, and, furthermore, pursuing its natural -bent, was rejoicing in the opportunity. Once, when interrogated -sharply by conscience, in the watches of the night, she had satisfied -her intelligence by answering back that her behavior was ostrich-like -but human. Since the rest of her world failed to turn a cold shoulder -on Lucille, was it for her to withhold the welcome befitting an only -child? - -Paul Howard was now a Congressman-elect. His canvass for the -nomination the previous autumn had been successful, and the rumors in -circulation as to the sum which he had paid over to his manager to -accomplish this result by methods more or less savoring of bribery, -were still rife. These had reached Paul's ears, and he was unable to -deny that the most sensational figures were far in excess of the actual -truth. Concerning the rest of the indictment, he could say literally -that he knew nothing definite. He had drawn checks and asked no -questions. But in his secret soul he had no doubts as to its -substantial accuracy, and after the first flush of victory was over the -edge of his self-satisfaction had been dulled by regret at the moral -price which he had been obliged to pay in order to become a -Congressman. Yet he had comforted himself with the thought that -otherwise he could not have won the nomination, and that he intended to -become an exemplary and useful member. So by this time he had ceased -to dwell on the irretrievable and was enjoying the consciousness that -he was to go to Washington, where he hoped to make his mark. Who could -tell? With his means and popularity he might eventually become a -United States Senator, or secure some desirable diplomatic appointment. - -Paul had been spending a few days in New York, and personal business -matters formed at first the topic of conversation between the two men. -When presently the younger inquired if anything of general interest had -happened in Benham during his absence, his father frowned and said: - -"That man Perry is pressing his socialistic legacy tax bill." - -Paul looked interested. He understood the allusion, for shortly -previous to his departure for New York, in consequence of his father's -animadversions, he had taken occasion to see Gordon and to discuss the -question with him. - -"I object to the principle; it's an entering wedge," continued Mr. -Howard. "When you say that because I leave a larger estate than you, -my estate shall pay a larger proportionate tax than yours, you -confiscate property. It is only another step to make the ratio of -increase such that after a certain sum all will be appropriated by the -state. It would be a blow at individual enterprise, and so at the -stability of the family. If you deprive men of the right to accumulate -and to leave to their children the full fruits of their industry and -brains, you take away the great incentive to surmount obstacles and to -excel." - -The banker in broaching the subject had uttered Gordon's name with -denunciatory clearness, so that Constance heard it distinctly. Her -spirit rose in protest at the condemning tone, and she paused in her -occupation to listen. As Mr. Howard proceeded she recognized the -character of his grievance. In the last letter Gordon had written her, -now more than a month previous, he had mentioned the fact that he was -interested in the success of what he termed the progressive legacy tax -bill, and she had closely followed its course in the legislature. She -knew that the committee to which it was referred had reported in its -favor by a majority of one; she had also gathered, from what she read -in the newspapers, that it was regarded as the most important public -measure of the session, and was to be hotly debated. While she sought -to smother her personal feelings, so that she might give due -consideration to Mr. Howard's argument, he paused, and Paul's voice -retorted: - -"I mentioned the one hundred per cent. argument to Gordon Perry, and he -smiled at it. He said that so unreasonable and oppressive an extreme -was out of the question, and a mere bogy." - -"Will he guarantee it?" demanded the banker sternly. "He cannot; he -can answer only for the legislative body of which he is a member. If -the present bill passes, why may not an Assembly twenty-five years -hence declare that the public good--meaning the necessary tax levy for -the expenses of an extravagant socialistic republic--demands that all -which any man dies possessed of in excess of half a million dollars -should, by the operation of a sliding scale of percentage, be -confiscated by the State?" - -"But on the other hand is it really unjust to tax the estate of one, -who dies possessed of a fortune larger than is sufficient to satisfy -every craving of his heirs, considerably more in proportion than that -of the citizen of moderate means whose children need every dollar? -That is what Don Perry would answer. Moreover, this bill is tolerably -easy on the children of the rich, is rather more severe on brothers and -sisters than on lineal descendants, and so on through the family tree. -The people who inherit millions from a cousin are scarcely to be pitied -if the State steps in and takes a respectable slice." - -"To hear you talk one would imagine you were a supporter of the -measure," said his father haughtily, recognizing Paul's proclivity to -take the opposite side of an argument, but evidently regarding the -subject as too serious for economic philandering. - -Paul laughed. "I suppose I should vote against it on general -principles--meaning that it's best to hold on to what one has as long -as possible. But it's one of the sanest attempts to get at the surplus -accumulations of the prosperous for the benefit of everybody else which -has thus far been devised. Indeed, we're not pioneers in this--in -fact, rather behind the times as a democratic nation. It has been -introduced already with success, for instance, in the republic of -Switzerland, and in Australia and New Zealand." - -Mr. Howard made a gesture of impatience. "Very likely. The two -last-named countries are the hot-bed of socialistic experiments. Will -you tell me," he added, with slow emphasis, "what society is to gain by -disintegrating large fortunes acquired by energy and thrift? I myself -have given away three million dollars for hospitals, libraries, and -educational endowments in the last ten years. Will the State make a -better use of the surplus, as you call it?" - -"The trouble is, father, that some multi-millionaires are less generous -than you. Evidently the State is of the opinion that the returns would -foot up larger under a compulsory law than under the present voluntary -system." - -"Up to this time personal individuality has been the distinguishing -trait of the American people. I believe that the nation has too much -sense to sacrifice the rights of the individual to----" - -He paused, seeking the fit phrase to express his meaning, and was -glibly anticipated by Paul. - -"To the envious demands of the mob. That is one way of putting it. -Gordon Perry's statement would be that society has reached the point -where the so-called vested rights of the individual must now and again -be sacrificed on the altar of the common good, and that a moderate bill -like this is the modern scientific method of rehabilitating the meaning -of the word justice." - -Unable to see the disputants, but listening with all her ears, -Constance recognized the argument. The common good! Here was the same -issue between the individual on one side and the community on the -other; and this time Gordon was the champion of the State against the -individual. Clearly he acknowledged the obligation--the soundness of -the principle provided that the sacrifice would redound to the benefit -of civilization. Yet the same mind which demanded a progressive legacy -tax bill in the name of human justice rejected an inflexible mandate -against remarriage as a cruel infringement on the rights of two souls -as against the world. There could be only one explanation of the -inconsistency; namely, that he believed profoundly that such a mandate -was not for the common good. She knew this already, yet somehow its -presentation in this parallel form struck her imagination. While thus -she mused Constance heard Mr. Howard say in response to Paul's last -sally: - -"I request that you will not entrust to that young man any more of the -firm's business. I prefer an attorney with less speculative ambitions." - -Paul laughed again. "As you will, father. Gordon Perry has all the -practice he can attend to without ours. He is hopelessly on his feet -so far as our disapproval--or even a boycott--is concerned." - -"And his bill will not pass," said the banker, with the concise -assurance of one who knows whereof he is speaking, and is conscious of -reserve power. "I have sent for the chairman of our State Committee." - -"If the party is against it, you know I am a good party man, father." - -"It isn't a question of party. It goes deeper than that; it's -fundamental. I've arranged for a conference----" - -At this point Mr. Howard saw fit to lower his voice. It was evident to -Constance that he was imparting secrets, and revealing the machinations -by which he expected to defeat or side-track the obnoxious measure. If -only she could hear and warn Gordon! But what they said was no longer -audible. The men's talk had dropped to an inarticulate murmur, which -continued for a few moments, and then was interrupted by Mrs. Wilson's -dulcet tones. The change of key had attracted her attention, which -already in subconsciousness had followed the thread of the dialogue, -though her deliberate thoughts were far away. - -"I have been listening to you two people," she said aloud, "and it is -an interesting theme. I agree with you, my dear Paul, academically; as -an eventual sociological development the surplus should be appropriated -for the public good. But I wonder if we are quite ready for it yet. -In other words, can the community--the State--the mass be trusted to -administer the revenues thus acquired so as to produce more wholesome -and beneficent results for the general weal than are now being fostered -by the wealthy and enlightened humanitarian few under the existing -laws? In the present stage of our civilization might not the standards -of efficiency be lowered by such a policy, and the true development of -art and beauty be arrested? There is my doubt." - -Her brother's response had the ring of an epigram. "To the end of -time, Miriam, human affairs must be managed by the capable few, or the -many will suffer. If you deprive able men of the power of -accumulation, the price of bread will soon be dearer." - -"And what the many hope for sooner or later is free champagne," -remarked Paul. - -Neither of his elders replied to this quizzical utterance, and there -was a brief silence. Then Mrs. Wilson stepped to the doorway of the -anteroom and told Constance that she did not require her services -further that evening. She had suddenly remembered the former intimacy -between her secretary and the protagonist of the bill. - -For the next week Constance diligently studied the newspapers for -information in regard to the mooted measure. The entire community -seemed suddenly aroused to the significance of the issue, and the daily -press teemed with reading matter in relation thereto. The debate on -the occasion of the second reading of the bill was the most protracted -and earnest of the session. As Mr. Howard had intimated, it was not -strictly a party measure; that is, it found advocates and opponents -among the members of each of the two great political parties; only the -so-called socialistic contingent gave it undivided support. But -developments soon revealed that nearly all the conservative, eminently -respectable members of the party to which Mr. Carleton Howard belonged -were lining up in opposition to the bill on one plea or another. It -was denounced by some as dangerous, by others, as unconstitutional; -numerous amendments were offered in order to kill it by exaggerating -its radical features or to render it innocuous. Constance imagined -that she could discern the master hand of the banker in the -fluctuations of sentiment, in some of the editorials, and in the solemn -resolutions of certain commercial bodies. - -It was at the third reading of the bill that Gordon made his great -speech--great from the point of view of the friends of the measure, -because it set forth without undue excitement and superfluous oratory -the essential soundness and justice of their cause. A packed house -listened in absorbed silence to the forceful, concise presentation. On -the morrow the rival merits of the controversy were still more eagerly -bruited throughout the State. Constance could restrain herself no -longer. Her lover was being stigmatized by the lips of many as an -enemy of established society, yet she must not go to him and show her -admiration and her faith. But she would write--just a line to let him -know that she understood what he was attempting, and that she was on -his side in the struggle for the common good against individualism and -the pride of wealth. By way of answer there came next day merely a -bunch of forget-me-nots addressed to her in his handwriting. She -pressed the dainty yet humble flowers to her lips, then placed them in -her breast. They seemed to express better than the pomp of roses his -steadfast allegiance to her and to humanity. - -The days of the debate were those just preceding the coming of the -pilgrims belonging to the Society for the Discussion of Social -Problems. Constance's most formal duties in connection therewith had -already been performed, but Mrs. Wilson kept her constantly at hand -lest new ideas should occur to her or emergencies arise. Besides there -were numerous minor details relating to the august entertainment on the -final evening which demanded supervision. Constance was very busy, but -in her heart the query was ever rising, Will he win? She had learned -that the bill had been put over for three days, and that the vote on -its passage was to be taken on the date of Mrs. Wilson's festivity, -probably in the late afternoon, as there was certain to be further -discussion before the roll was called. - -The four days' exercises of the Society consisted of the reading of -papers on current national problems, one series in the morning, another -in the evening, with opportunities for general comment. The afternoons -were devoted to recreation and the visiting of points of local -interest, such as the oil yards, pork factories, and other commercial -plants across the Nye to which Benham owed its growth and vitality; to -Wetmore College, the Institution of learning for the higher education -of women; and to the new public library and Silas S. Parsons free -hospital. Mrs. Wilson was an absorbed and prominent figure at all the -meetings. She had no paper of her own to read, but on two occasions -she made a few remarks on the topic before the Society when the moment -for discussion arrived. On the third day, moreover, at the end of the -paper on "The Development of Art in the United States," the president -rose and made the announcement of a gift of five hundred thousand -dollars from Mrs. Randolph Wilson and her brother for the erection of a -Free Art Museum for Benham on the land already bonded by the city. -Constance had the satisfaction of hearing the applause which greeted -the declaration of this splendid endowment. Mrs. Wilson had made it -possible for her to attend several of the meetings as educational -opportunities, but she had received no inkling of this interesting -secret. - -Late in the afternoon of the next day, that fixed for the entertainment -and for the ballot on Gordon's bill, Constance was informed by the -butler that there was a woman below who desired to see her. The man's -manner prompted her to make some inquiry, and she learned that the -visitor was Loretta Davis; that she had asked first for Mrs. Wilson, -and on being told that she was out had asked for herself. The servant -volunteered the further information that she appeared to be in a -disorderly condition, and that, but for his mistress's special interest -in her, he would not have admitted her to the house. - -Constance went downstairs excited that the wanderer had returned, yet -reflecting that she had chosen a most untimely date for her -reappearance. She said to herself that she would take a cab, bundle -Loretta off to Lincoln Chambers, and conceal the fact of her presence -in Benham from Mrs. Wilson until the following day. As she entered the -small reception-room, she was shocked by Loretta's appearance. She -looked as though she had lived ten years in one. Her cheeks were -sunken, her eyes unnaturally bright, and her face wore the aspect of -degenerate dissipation. She was more conspicuously dressed than her -circumstances warranted, and her clothes appeared crumpled. But her -air was jaunty, and she met Constance's solicitous greeting with an -appalling gaiety. - -"Well, I'm back again. I hear you've been hunting for me. I suppose -you'll want to know all about it, so I might as well tell you my -money's gone. Some of it I lent to my friend--him I went back to--and -the rest is spent. We've been in Chicago and New York, and--and I've -had the time of my life." - -She evidently hoped to shock Constance by this bravado; but distressed -as the latter was by the painful levity, she took for granted that -Loretta was not herself, and that though her speech was fluent she was -under the influence of some stimulant, presumably the drug which Dr. -Dale had specified. While she was wondering how to deal with the -situation and what could be the object of Loretta's visit, the latter -supplied the solution to her second quandary. - -"I've seen all about the big party she's giving to-night. That's why -I've come." She paused a moment, then continued in a cunning whisper, -as though she were afraid of unfriendly ears: "I want to get a chance -to see it--the folk, I mean, and the smart dresses. Lord sake," she -added, noticing doubtless the consternation in her hearer's face, "I do -believe you thought I was asking to come as one of the four hundred -myself. Thanks, but I've left my new ball dress at home. They can -tuck me in somewhere behind a curtain; I'd be quiet; or I'd dress as a -maid. Manage it for me, Constance, like a decent woman." Her voice -cracked a little, and her eyes filled with tears, suggesting a tipsy -person. Then suddenly her manner changed; she squared her shoulders -and said malevolently, "I'm going to see it anyway. It's a small thing -to ask of her who helped to kill my only child." - -It was a small thing to ask certainly, absurd as the request seemed. -Constance reflected that, inopportune as the application was, the -decision, as Loretta had intimated, did not rest with her. - -"I will ask Mrs. Wilson, Loretta," she said, to gain time to think. -"She will be home before long." - -At that moment the lady named entered the room. The butler had told -her who her visitor was, and she had not avoided the interview. She -had just come from an afternoon tea given in honor of the visiting -pilgrims, and was attired in her most elegant costume. Loretta's eyes, -as they took in the exquisite details of her appearance, dilated with -the interest of fascination, yet their gleam was envious rather than -friendly. Beholding the two women face to face, Constance, struck by -the contrast, realized that they represented the two poles of the -social system; that the one embodied aspiration, the graces of -Christian civilization and glittering success, the other -self-indulgence, moral decay, and hideous failure. Such were the -prizes of deference to, and the penalties of revolt against, the -mandates of society! Yet even as she thus reasoned her heart was wrung -with intense pity, and it was she who offered herself as a spokesman -and laid Loretta's petition before Mrs. Wilson. That lady's face was a -study during the brief recital. Bewilderment, horrified repugnance, -toleration, and finally hesitating acquiescence succeeded one another -as she listened to the strange request and to her secretary's -willingness to take charge of her discreditable ward if the permission -to remain were granted. Obnoxious as the idea of having such a person -in the house at this time of all others appeared to her at first blush, -Mrs. Wilson's philanthropic instincts speedily responded to the demand -upon them in spite of its obvious and vulgar sensationalism. She, like -Constance, found herself asking why she need refuse such a small favor -to this unfortunate creature merely because the supplication was so -distasteful to her. If Constance were ready to see that she did not -make a spectacle of herself, and would keep an eye on her, why, after -all, should she not remain? Might not the sight of the brilliant, -refined spectacle even serve to reinspire her with respect for the -decencies of life? Mrs. Wilson's imagination snatched at the hope. -Consent could not possibly do harm to anyone, and it might be a means -of reclaiming this erring creature. - -Constance perceived how her employer's mind was working, and she made -the course of acquiescence smooth by saying: - -"We will sit together, Mrs. Wilson, where we can see and no one can see -us. And in return for your consideration," she added meaningly, -"Loretta agrees to conduct herself as a lady--in such a manner as not -to offend anyone by her behavior so long as she is in this house." - -"Very well," said Mrs. Wilson. "I am very glad to give my permission. -You know what Constance means, Loretta?" - -Loretta nodded feverishly. "I shall be all right," she said. She -understood that they referred to her habits, and she was willing enough -to guarantee good behavior, for she knew that she had the assurance of -it in her own pocket--a small hypodermic syringe, the use of which -would steady her nerves for the time being. It was with an exultant -intention of enjoying herself to the uttermost, and of fooling her -hostess to the top of her bent, that after Constance had shown her to a -room that she might put herself to rights, Loretta jabbed herself with -the needle again and again in pursuit of forbidden transport. - -An hour later when Loretta was asleep under the eye of a maid, -Constance found time to consider how she could ascertain the result of -the ballot, the haunting suspense as to which had kept her heart in her -mouth all day. She lay in wait for the evening newspaper, but she -ransacked its columns in vain, as she had feared would be the case. -Evidently the vote had been taken too late for publication. While she -stood in the hall trying to muster courage to call up one of the -newspaper offices on the telephone and ask the question--which would -assuredly be a piece of impertinence on the part of an unimportant -person like herself--she heard the ring of the front door bell. When -the butler answered it the commanding figure of Mr. Carleton Howard -appeared in the vestibule and from the shadow of the staircase she -heard him say with jubilant distinctness, "You will tell Mrs. Wilson, -James, that the progressive legacy tax bill was killed this afternoon -by a majority of three votes. Reconsideration was asked for and -refused; consequently the measure is dead for this session." - -Constance experienced that sinking feeling which a great and sudden -disappointment is apt to bring. She had taken for granted that Gordon -would win; that he would get the better of his opponents in the end, -despite their endeavors, and gain a glorious victory for humanity and -himself. Instead he had been crushed by his enemies, and was tasting -the bitterness of defeat. He would bear it bravely, she did not -question that, but how depressing to see the cause in behalf of which -all his energies had been enlisted defeated by the narrowest margin on -the very verge of success. - -She remained for some moments as though rooted to the spot. As poor -Loretta had once said, it is love which makes the world go round, and -the world had suddenly stopped for her. She ascended the stairs like -one in a trance and closed the door of her room. What would her -sympathy profit him? How would it help him to know that her heart bled -for him? Such condolence would be only tantalization. What he desired -was herself--to possess and cherish in the soul and in the flesh--as -the partner of his joys and sorrows, his helpmate and his companion. -From where she sat she could behold herself in her mirror the comely -embodiment of a woman in her prime, alive with energy and health. He -sighed to hold her in his arms, and she would fain kiss away the -disappointment of his defeat. Anything short of this would be mockery -for him--yes, for her. They were natural mates, for they loved each -other with the enthusiasm of mature sympathy. Yet they must go their -ways apart, because the Church forbade in the name of Christ for the -so-called common good. How could it be for the common good to resist -nature, when she knew in her heart that in obeying the law of her being -she would feel no sense of shame or blame? On the one side was the -fiat of the Church, and on the other the sanction of the people--of -human society struggling for light and liberty against superstition and -authority. That was Gordon's claim; yet he was no demagogue, no -irreverent materialist. What would her own father have said--the -country doctor whose sympathy with humanity was so profound? She felt -sure that he would have swept aside the Church's argument in such a -case as this as untenable. What was it held her back? The taunt that -in obeying the law of her being she would be letting go her hold on the -highest spiritual life, that most precious ambition of her soul, and -forsaking the Christ whose followers had comforted her and lifted her -up. - -As thus she mused she heard Loretta stirring. She had arranged as a -precaution that they should occupy chambers which opened into each -other, and it behooved her now to pay attention to her--to see that she -was suitably attired and to supervise her movements. When they were -dressed she exhibited to her the large dining-room set with little -tables, and afforded her a peep at the guests as they swept in. Later -Loretta and she looked down from a small balcony filled with plants on -the splendid company assembling in the music-room. Her charge was -completely absorbed by the pageant, asking at first eager questions, -which Constance answered with mechanical scrupulousness, for to her in -spite of the brilliant scene the world seemed far away, and she still -dwelt as in a trance. As soon as Loretta recognized Lucille, who in -the most stunning of Parisian gowns was assisting her mother to -receive, she became nervously agitated, and after surveying her for a -few moments she nudged her companion and said, "What did I tell you? -Hasn't her marriage turned out all right, and isn't everybody at her -feet? You might be down there with the rest of them to-night, if you'd -only taken my advice." - -The words brought Constance back to her immediate surroundings, but as -she became aware that Loretta was thrusting in her face the fact of -Lucille's triumphant presence, she realized that it had already been a -significant item in her nebulous consciousness. But she laid her hand -gently on the offender's arm and said, "Sh! No matter about that now. -Remember your promise." Loretta grunted. She paid heed to the extent -of changing her tone to a whisper, but murmured by way of having the -last word, "It's unjust that you shouldn't be there; it's unjust." -Then she became silent; but every little while during the evening she -repeated under her breath the same phrase, as though it were a formula. - -Constance remembered subsequently that as the evening advanced Loretta -ceased to ask questions and grew strangely silent, seeming to follow -with her eyes every movement of Mrs. Wilson, who in a costume of -maroon-colored velvet set off by superb jewels and a tiara of large -diamonds, swept with easy grace hither and thither in her endeavor as -hostess to make the blending between the pilgrims and Benham's social -leaders an agreeable experience for all. - -It was in truth a notable entertainment; the guests appeared pleased -and appreciative; there were no hitches; the music evoked enthusiasm, -the supper was delicious, and the closing distribution of trinkets by -Benham's fairest daughters came as a delightful surprise to the -departing seekers after truth. But all save the consciousness that she -was facing a gay scene and was fulfilling her responsibilities was lost -on Constance. She did not know until the next day that the -entertainment had been a great success, for, oblivious to the music, -the lights, and the brilliantly dressed assembly, her soul was -wrestling once more with the problem which she had supposed solved -forever. It was nearly one o'clock when the murmur of voices died -away, and she conducted Loretta to their mutual apartment. She was -glad that her charge showed no disposition to talk over the events of -the evening, but on the contrary undressed in silence, busy with her -own reflections. Having seen her safely in bed, Constance straightway -sat down at her desk and wrote. It was a short, hasty note, for she -was bent on posting it that night before the lights in the house were -extinguished. Throwing a cloak about her, she glided downstairs, and, -with a word of warning to the butler that he might not lock her out, -sought the letter-box which was less than a hundred yards distant. She -had not chosen to trust her epistle to any other hands. As she lifted -the iron shutter she paused for a moment, then with a joyful little -sigh she dropped it in and let go. Fifteen minutes later, like a -happy, tired child, and wondering what the morrow would bring, she -escaped from reality into the waiting arms of sleep. - -But Mrs. Randolph Wilson was in no haste to go to bed. She was in a -complacent mood. Everything had gone off as she intended, and it -suited her to dwell in retrospect on the incidents of the festivity, -and to muse fancy free. Lucille had kissed her good-night and had -retired. She had let her maid loosen her dress and had dismissed her -for the night. She was inclined to dally; she liked the silence and -the sense of calm after the activities of the day. - -Seated at her toilet table and looking into her mirror with her cheeks -resting upon her hands, she gazed introspectively at herself and -destiny. Her tiara of diamonds still crested her forehead. Somehow it -pleased her to leave it undisturbed until she was ready to let down her -hair. She was conscious that she had reached the age when she -preferred to see herself at her best rather than in the garb of -nature's disorder. It had been one of the eventful evenings of her -life; she felt that by her efforts mind and matter had been drawn -closer together without detriment to either. And everybody had been -extremely civil to Lucille, at which she could not help rejoicing. -Certainly, too, Lucille was acquiring more social charm and was more -anxious to please people of cultivation. Then, too, her brother had -appeared in his most engaging mood as a consequence of the defeat of -the legacy tax bill. No reason for doubting her conclusion that the -passage of the measure would have been premature under existing -conditions had occurred to her; so it seemed that society had been -saved from a mistake. Altogether the immediate present was marred by -no unpleasant memory but one. As to that, she felt that she had acted -indulgently, and that on the morrow she would make a last effort to -rescue the unhappy degenerate. As she surveyed herself in the glass -she appreciated that she was well preserved and that her grizzled hair -was becoming, but that the romance of life was over. She would never -marry again; she was unequivocally middle-aged. Ideas were what she -had left; but for this great interest she had many years of strength -and activity ahead of her. - -Ideas! How absorbing they were, and yet how little the most -disinterested individual could accomplish! Truth looked so near, and -yet ever seemed to recede as one approached it. Men and women came and -went, generations lived and died, but progress, like the march of the -glaciers, was to be measured by the centuries. The inequalities of -life--how hideous were they still; how far from rectification, in spite -of priests and charity! What was the key to the riddle? Where was the -open sesame to the social truth which should be universal beauty? She -was seeking it with all her soul, but she would never find it. Deep in -the womb of time it lay, a magnet, yet inscrutable. Who would unearth -it? Would it baffle mankind forever? or would centuries hence some -searcher--perhaps a woman like herself--discern and reveal it? - -Pensive with her speculation, she turned her eyes, wistful with their -yearning to pierce the mysteries of time, full upon the mirror, and -started. An apparition, a woman's face, cunning, resentful, -demon-like, was there beside her own; a woman's figure crouching, -stealthy, about to spring was stealing toward her. Was it a vision, an -uncanny creature of the brain? Instinctively she turned, and as she -did so a large pair of hands gleamed in her face and reached for her -neck. Springing up with a cry of horror, she recoiled from the -threatening fingers, but in another instant she was bent backward so -that her head pressed against the glass and she felt a powerful clutch -upon her throat which took away the power to scream, and made her eyes -feel as though they were bursting from their sockets. A voice, -exultant, cruel, yet like a revivalist's chant, rang in her ears. - -"I've come for you. We'll go together, down to eternity. There you -will scrub dirty marble floors for ever and ever." - -In the face in the mirror Mrs. Wilson had recognized Loretta, and she -divined, as the wild figure threw itself upon her and the strong hands -gripped her windpipe, that she was contending with a mad-woman. The -import of the strange, accusing words was unmistakable; it was a -struggle for life. Powerless to give the alarm save by inarticulate -gasps, she realized that only her own strength could avail her, and -that this must fail owing to the superior hold which her assailant had -established. She strove with all her might to wrench herself free, but -in vain. The long hands squeezed like a vise, and she was choking. -She felt her senses swim, and that she was about to faint. Then with a -rush a third figure intervened; someone else's hands were battling on -her side, and in an instant she was free. - -Awaking suddenly, as one who is sleeping on guard often will, Constance -had felt an instinct that something was wrong. The turning on of the -electric light revealed that Loretta's bed was empty. Where had she -gone? It seemed improbable that she had sought to escape from the -house at that hour. Puzzled, she stepped into the hall and half-way -down the staircase. There as she paused the light shining from under -Mrs. Wilson's apartment on the landing below caught her eye. The next -moment she heard a muffled scream. - -It had required all her strength and weight to tear Loretta from her -victim. Having succeeded in separating them, Constance hastily put -herself on the defensive, expecting a fresh attack; but Loretta, -panting from her exertions, stood facing them for a moment, then burst -into a strident, gleeful laugh. - -"You've saved her," she cried. "I'm crazy--stark crazy, I guess. What -was it I said? I was going to take her where she'd have to scrub dirty -marble floors forever and ever. I'd like to save her soul, she tried -so hard to save mine. But it was time thrown away from the start. I -was born bad--a moral pervert, as the doctors call it. Christianity -was wasted on me." - -She shook her head, and looked from one to the other. They, horrified -but spellbound, waited, uncertain what course to pursue. Mrs. Wilson, -now that she had partially recovered her poise, felt the impulse to -elucidate this horrifying mystery. But though she wished to speak, the -proper language did not suggest itself. How could one discuss causes -with a mad woman? She raised her hands to put in place the tiara which -had been crushed down on her brow. - -"Look at her," cried Loretta, commandingly, addressing Constance and -pointing. "Isn't she beautiful? She's civilization." She made a low -obeisance. "I was in love with her once; I love her still. You saved -her." - -She frowned and passed her hand across her forehead as though to clear -her brain. Then she laughed again; she had recovered her clew. - -"You were the sort she could help, Constance Stuart; you were good. -But how has she--her church--paid you back? Cheated you with a gold -brick. Ha! Made you believe that it was your Christian duty to let -Gordon Perry, Esq., Counsellor-at-Law, go. That's the way the -aristocrats still try to fool the common people. But isn't she -beautiful? My compliments to both of you." - -She swept a low courtesy in exaggeration of those she had witnessed a -few hours earlier. "It is pitiful--pitiful and perplexing," murmured -Mrs. Wilson in agonized dismay. - -For a moment Loretta stood irresolute, then of a sudden she began to -shiver like one seized with an ague. She regarded them distractedly -with staring eyes, and throwing up her hands, fell forward on her face -in convulsive delirium. Constance rushed to her side; the two women -raised her and laid her on the bed. Mrs. Wilson's maid was aroused, -and a physician communicated with by telephone. He came within an hour -and prescribed the necessary treatment. He said that the patient's -system was saturated with cocaine, but intimated that she would -probably recover from this attack. - -After the doctor had gone and Loretta had been removed to her own room, -Mrs. Wilson and Constance watched by the side of the sufferer, whose -low moaning was the sole disturber of the stillness of the breaking -dawn. Each was lost in her own secret thoughts. The cruel -finger-marks on Mrs. Wilson's neck burned painfully, but the words of -her mad critic had seared her soul. For the moment social truth seemed -sadly remote. She reflected mournfully but humbly that ever and anon -proud man and his systems are held up to derision by the silent forces -of nature. When the darkness had faded so that they could discern each -other's faces, she arose, and sitting down beside Constance on the sofa -drew her toward her and kissed her. Was it in acknowledgment that she -had saved her life, or as a symbol of a broader faith? - -"Kiss me too, Constance," she whispered. - -The embrace was fondly returned, and at this loosening of the tension -of their strained spirits they wept gently in each other's arms. Then -Mrs. Wilson added, "Come, let us go where we can talk. We could do -nothing at present which my maid cannot do." - -She led the way to her boudoir. The idea of seeking sleep had never -occurred to either of them. Although Mrs. Wilson had felt the need of -speech, it was some minutes after they had established themselves -before she broke the silence. When she did so she spoke suddenly and -with emotion, like one beset by a repugnant conviction yet loath to -acknowledge it. - -"Can I have deserved this, Constance?" The vivid protest in her -companion's face made clear that Constance did not penetrate her -subtler meaning, and she hastened to answer her own question. - -"Not to be strangled by a violent lunatic," she said, raising a hand -involuntarily to her neck. "But her words were a judgment--a -lacerating judgment. How I should loathe it--to scrub dirty marble -floors forever and ever. It is just that--the dirt, the disorder, the -common reek, which I shrink from and shun in spite of myself. How did -she ever find out? I love too much the lusciousness of life. - - 'It is the little rift within the lute - That by and by will make the music mute, - And ever widening slowly silence all.' - -Do you not see, Constance?" - -Leaning forward with clasped hands and speaking with melodious pathos -while the morning light rested on her tired but interesting face, her -confession had the effect of a monologue save for its final question. -And Constance, listening understood. In truth, this cry of the soul at -bay came as a quickener to her own surging emotions, and she realized -that the walls of the temple of beauty had fallen like those of Jericho -at the trumpets of Israel. Yet though she understood and saw starkly -revealed the limit of the gospel of the splendor of things, with all -the purging of perplexities which that meant for her, the claims of -gratitude and of unabated admiration no less than pity caused her to -shrink from immediate acquiescence in her patron's self-censure. And -as she hesitated for the proper antidote, Mrs. Wilson pursued her -confession relentlessly--pursued it, however, as one who recites the -weakness of a cause to which she is hopelessly committed. - -"One is spurred to refine and refine and refine,--does not even -religion--my religion--so teach us?--the spirit ostensibly, and, in -order to reach the spirit, the body; and in this age of things and of -great possessions one reaches greedily after the quintessence of -comfort until--until one needs some shock like this to perceive that -one might become--perhaps is, an intellectual sybarite. Nay, more; -though we crave almost by instinct individual lustre and personal -safety, reaching out for luxury that we may grow superfine, must not -we--we American women with ideals--mistrust the social beauty of a -universe which still produces the masses and all the horrors of life? -Can it fundamentally avail that a few should be exquisite and have -radiant thoughts, if the rest are condemned to a coarse, unlovely -heritage?" - -Not only did gratitude reassert itself as Constance listened to this -speculative plaint, but protesting common sense as well, which -recognized the morbidness of the thought without ignoring its cogency. - -"Ah, you exaggerate; you are unjust to yourself," she exclaimed -fervidly. "You must not overlook what your influence and example have -been to me and many others. I owe you so much! more than I can ever -repay. It was you who opened the garden of life to me." - -Mrs. Wilson started at the tense, spontaneous apostrophe, and the color -mounted to her cheeks. Never had so grateful a tribute been laid at -her feet as this in the hour of tribulation. And as she gazed she felt -that she had a right to be proud of the noble-looking, the -sophisticated woman who held out to her these refreshing laurels. - -"And it is not that I do not comprehend--that I do not share your -qualms," Constance continued, ignoring the gracious look that she might -express herself completely in this crucial hour. The time had come to -utter her own secret, which she felt to be the most eloquent of revolts -against the mystic superfineness she had just heard deprecated. -"Within the last twelve hours the scales have fallen from my eyes also, -and what seemed to me truth is no longer truth. There is something I -wish to tell you, Mrs. Wilson. Yesterday afternoon I heard that the -legacy tax bill had been defeated; last night before I went to bed I -posted a letter to Gordon Perry informing him that I would be his wife. -I have asked him to come to see me at Lincoln Chambers this morning." - -Mrs. Wilson's lip trembled. Genuine as was her probing of self, this -flank attack from one who just now had brought balm to her wounds and -cheer to her soul was a fresh and vivid shock. To feel that this other -ward, whom she had deemed so safe, was about to slip from her fingers -was more than she could bear. Then instinctively Constance went to her -and put her arm around her. "I am sorry to hurt you," she said -tenderly, "but this is a time to speak plainly. I love him, and I feel -that I have been trifling with love. I am sure at last of this: that -it is better for the world that two people like him and me should be -happy than live apart out of deference to a bond which is a mere husk. -I prefer to be natural and free rather than exquisite and artificial. -As Gordon said, the ban of the Church when the law gives one freedom is -nothing but a fetich. I cannot follow the Church in this. To do so -would be to starve my soul for the sake of a false ideal--a false -beauty cultivated for the few alone, as you have intimated, at the -expense of the great heart of humanity. I can no longer be a party to -such an injustice; I must not sacrifice to it the man I love." - -There was a brief silence. Mrs. Wilson, as her question presently -showed, was trying to piece together cause and effect. - -"You wrote to him last night, Constance? Then this--horror had nothing -to do with your decision?" - -"Nothing; I had been on the verge of it for some time: I can see that -now. And when the news of his defeat came, I felt that I must go to -him if he would let me." - -"He will let you, Constance." - -"I think so," she answered with a happy thrill. - -Mrs. Wilson looked up at her, and observing the serenity of her -countenance, knew that the issue was settled beyond peradventure. Yet -she was in the mood to be generous as well as humble; moreover, her -inquiring mind had not failed to notice the plea for humanity and to -feel its force. She sighed gently, then patted the hand that held -hers, and said: - -"Perhaps, dear, you are right. At all events, go now and get some -sleep. You must look your own sweet self when he comes to you." - -A few hours later Constance, refreshed by slumber, was on her way to -Lincoln Chambers. She walked as though on wings, for she knew in her -heart that her lover would not fail her. Arriving a little before the -appointed time, she dismissed the children to school, and, smiling at -fate, waited for what was to be. At the stroke of the trysting hour -she heard his knock. She bade him enter, and as their eyes met he -folded her in his arms. - -"Gordon!" - -"Constance!" - -"I have surrendered." She looked up into his face, bewitching in her -happiness. - -[Illustration: "I have surrendered."] - -"Thank God for that!" - -"But I come to you conscience free, Gordon," she said, drawing back her -radiant face so that he must hear her avowal before his title was -complete. "I would not have you think that I have compromised or -juggled with myself. If I believed that I should be a whit less pure -and spiritual a woman by becoming your wife, I would never have sent -for you, dearly as I love you." - -"And I would not have had you, darling. The love which is conscious of -a stain is a menace to the world." - - - -THE END - - - - - * * * * * - - - - - BY THE SAME AUTHOR - - The Undercurrent. - - Unleavened Bread. - - Search-Light Letters. - - The Art of Living. - - The Bachelor's Christmas, and Other Stories. - With 21 full-page illustrations. - - Reflections of a Married Man. - - The Opinions of a Philosopher. - Illustrated. - - Face to Face. - - - - - - - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Undercurrent, by Robert Grant - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE UNDERCURRENT *** - -***** This file should be named 56310-8.txt or 56310-8.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/6/3/1/56310/ - -Produced by Al Haines -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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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 Undercurrent - -Author: Robert Grant - -Illustrator: F. C. Yohn - -Release Date: January 4, 2018 [EBook #56310] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE UNDERCURRENT *** - - - - -Produced by Al Haines - - - - - -</pre> - - -<p><br /><br /></p> - -<p class="capcenter"> -<a id="img-front"></a> -<img class="imgcenter" src="images/img-front.jpg" alt="Her lover was beside her and was suggesting that he escort her home." /> -<br /> -Her lover was beside her and was suggesting that he escort her home. -</p> - -<h1> -<br /><br /> - THE<br /> - UNDERCURRENT<br /> -</h1> - -<p class="t3b"> - BY<br /> -</p> - -<p class="t2"> - ROBERT GRANT<br /> -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p class="t3"> - WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY<br /> -<br /> - <i>F. C. Yohn</i><br /> -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p class="t3"> - CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS<br /> - NEW YORK :::::::::::::: 1904<br /> -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p class="t4"> - COPYRIGHT, 1904, BY<br /> - CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS<br /> -<br /> - Published, October, 1904<br /> -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p class="t3"> - TO MY WIFE<br /> -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p class="t3"> -LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS -</p> - -<p class="noindent"> -<a href="#img-front">Her lover was beside her and was suggesting -that he escort her home</a> . . . . . <i>Frontispiece</i> -</p> - -<p class="noindent"> -<a href="#img-032">"I have missed you two young people at church lately"</a> -</p> - -<p class="noindent"> -<a href="#img-080">"Oh, Emil, my husband, how could you!" she moaned</a> -</p> - -<p class="noindent"> -<a href="#img-120">"Give it to me, Paul," demanded the young -woman imperiously</a> -</p> - -<p class="noindent"> -<a href="#img-168">"I am sure that this woman will tell me her -story"</a> -</p> - -<p class="noindent"> -<a href="#img-218">There were moments, even from the first, when -he let her perceive that he regarded her as a -social companion</a> -</p> - -<p class="noindent"> -<a href="#img-252">Constance would find her in possession at -Lincoln Chambers</a> -</p> - -<p class="noindent"> -<a href="#img-350">"I should like to marry because I am in love"</a> -</p> - -<p class="noindent"> -<a href="#img-400">"Refuse a man like that who's crazy to marry you!"</a> -</p> - -<p class="noindent"> -<a href="#img-422">The flowers were the bright, shining milestone</a> -</p> - -<p class="noindent"> -<a href="#img-472">"I have surrendered"</a> -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap01"></a></p> - -<h3> -THE UNDERCURRENT -</h3> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -"Those whom God has joined together let -no man put asunder." It seemed to the -bride that the Rev. George Prentiss laid -especially solemn stress on these words, and as she -listened to the announcement that, forasmuch as -Emil Stuart and Constance Forbes had consented -together in holy matrimony, he pronounced them -to be man and wife, her nerves quivered with -satisfaction at the thought that she was Emil's -forever. The deed was done, and she was joyous that -the doubt which had harassed her in her weak -moments—whether she was ready to renounce her -ambition to help in the great work of education for -the sake of any man—was solved and merged in -the ocean of their love. Doubtless Emil was not -perfect, but she adored him. No one had even -hinted that he was not perfect, but she had made up -her mind not to be ridiculous in her rapture, and -to look the probable truth squarely in the face as -became an intelligent woman. She knew that -until recently he had been only a clerk with Toler -& Company, lumber merchants, and that he had -just started in business on his own account. He -was dependent for support on his individual -labors, but she had in her own name the nice little -nest-egg of five thousand dollars, realized from -the sale of the family homestead at Colton, the -country town, ten miles distant, from which, an -orphan, she had come to Benham a year previous. -She was marrying for love a young man who had -his own way to make, just as hundreds of others -were doing every day, and she was proud of her -part in the compact. A great happiness had come -into her life, almost against her will, but now -that it had come she recognized that it was nature -working in the ordinary way, and that she would -not remain single for all the kindergartens in -creation. She had known Emil only a year; still that -year had been one of courtship, and no one had -ever spoken ill of him, though she had been told -that Mr. Prentiss, as a rector charged with -overseeing the destinies of friendless girls who were -members of his parish, had made inquiries. -Moreover, Mr. Prentiss had agreed that two -young people, situated as they were, whose hearts -were united, did well to marry on a small income -and trust somewhat to the future. How otherwise, -as he sagely remarked, was ideal love to -flourish, and were mercenary considerations to be -kept at bay? Emil was twenty-five, and she just -twenty. Youthful, but still of a proper age, and -they were growing older every day. Decidedly it -was a prudent love-match, and she had a right to -be joyful, for there was nothing to reproach -herself with or to regret. -</p> - -<p> -It will thus be observed that Constance Forbes -was no happy-go-lucky sort of girl, and that -though she was marrying younger than she had -expected, she was marrying with her eyes open. -She had scrutinized severely the romantic episode -which had made her and her lover acquainted, -and had even refused him the first time he asked -her in order to counterbalance the glamour resulting -from that meeting. The episode was a sequel -to an accident to the train on which she was -travelling from Colton to Benham. The engine ran -into the rear of some freight cars, owing to a -misplaced switch, and the tracks were strewed -with splintered merchandise, so that the train was -delayed four hours. The natural thing for -passengers with time to kill was to inspect the -wreckage, which, besides the dilapidated railroad -apparatus, consisted of mangled chairs and tables, and -bursted bags of grain, a medley of freight -impressive in its disorder. Constance found herself -presently discussing with a young man the injuries -to the cow-catcher of the engine, which had been -twisted ludicrously awry. A moment before two -other persons, one of them a woman, had been on -the spot, and the conversation had been innocuously -general, but they had drifted off. Constance -was conscious of having noticed the young -man in her car, and of having casually observed -that he had an alert expression, and that his hair -rose perpendicularly from his brow, suggesting -the assertiveness of a king-bird. To allow a -young man to scrape acquaintance with her in cold -blood would ordinarily have been entirely repugnant -to her ideas of maidenly propriety, but she -resisted her first impulse to turn her back on him -and abruptly close the interview as needlessly -harsh. It would surely be prudish to abstain from -examining the battered locomotive, which lay on -one side, with its nose in the air, as though it had -fallen in the act of rearing, merely because a -respectable-looking male passenger happened to be -equally interested in the results of the catastrophe. -So it chanced that after they had exchanged -observations concerning the injuries to the overthrown -"Vulcan" and speculated as to how long they were -likely to be delayed, their conversation became -less impersonal. That is, the young man -informed her that he was in the employ of Toler & -Company, lumber merchants, and was returning -to Benham after having made some collections for -them in the neighboring country. Then he was -familiar with Benham? Familiar? He should -say so. He had been settled there for three years, -and—(so he gave Constance to understand)—there -was absolutely nothing regarding the place -which he could not tell her. First of all, Benham -was a growing, thriving city. Its population had -quadrupled in fifteen years. Think of that! So -that now (in 1886) there were upward of three -hundred and fifty thousand souls in the city's -limits. It was a hustling place. A shrewd, -energetic man, who kept his wits active, ought to make -his fortune there in ten years, if he were given a -proper chance. Was she going to live in Benham? -</p> - -<p> -Constance admitted that she was, and, helped -along by friendly inquiries, she told him briefly -her story. That she had lost her father and -mother within a few months of each other, and -that she had decided to come to Benham, of -which, of course, she had heard as a progressive -city, in order to learn the kindergarten methods -of teaching. Subsequently she hoped to obtain an -appointment as a school-teacher, and so earn her -own living. -</p> - -<p> -"When you've finished your lessons and are -ready to teach, let me know. I may be able to -help you. I'm a little in politics myself, and a -word to the school committee from a free and -independent constituent might get you a place." -</p> - -<p> -He spoke jauntily though respectfully; but the -offer reminded Constance that the conversation -was taking a more intimate turn than she had -bargained for. She thanked him, and began to -move slowly away, not with any definite idea of -direction, but as a maidenly interruption. -Mr. Stuart—for he had told her his name—kept pace -with her and seemed quite unconscious of her -purpose. In the few minutes during which they had -been chatting she had observed that he was -somewhat above the average height and rather spare, -with a short mustache which curled up at the ends -and was becoming. Also, that he had small, dark -eyes, which he moved rapidly and which gave him, -in conjunction with his rising brow and hair, a -restless, nervous expression. -</p> - -<p> -As they walked along the track the conductor -was coming toward them. He had been to the -telegraph office and was returning with a -telegram in his hands. -</p> - -<p> -"Well, what are our chances of getting away -from here?" Emil asked, with the manner of a -man to whom time is precious. -</p> - -<p> -"It'll be a good three hours before the wrecking -train arrives and the road is clear." -</p> - -<p> -The youth and the maid looked at each other -and laughed at the gloominess of the situation. -</p> - -<p> -"In that case," said Constance, glancing at the -sloping banks bordering the railroad tracks, which -were bright with white weed and other flora of -the early summer time, "we shall have to dine on -wild flowers." -</p> - -<p> -"I have some chocolate in my bag." -</p> - -<p> -Constance flushed slightly with embarrassment. -Her random remark seemed almost to amount to -a premeditated invitation to share his resources. -</p> - -<p> -Emil's gaze had followed hers in her allusion -to the wild flowers. "I'll tell you what," he -exclaimed, impulsively, "since we have three hours -to wait, why shouldn't we escape from this culvert -and see what there is to be seen from the top of -the bank? I shall be able to show you Benham," -he added, noticing, perhaps, that she looked -doubtful, "for we are only nine or ten miles -away." -</p> - -<p> -This was tempting. Besides it would surely be -ridiculous to remain where she was rather than -explore the country merely because he was a casual -acquaintance and had some chocolate in his -travelling bag. The circumstances were harmless and -unavoidable, unless she wished to write herself -down a prude. The result was the logic of -common-sense prevailed, and Constance gave her -consent to the proposal. So they climbed the bank -presently, pausing on the way to gather some -posies, with which the party of the second part -proceeded to adorn her hat, after they had -established themselves on an eligible fallen tree -commanding a pleasing view. The fallen tree was at -the edge of a copse of pine wood some two -hundred yards from the bank. Thus they were -sheltered from the sun. Out of the copse, almost at -their feet, ran a bubbling brook, which added a -touch of romance to the landscape rolling away in -undulating and occasionally wooded farming -land, as far as the eye could reach, until it -terminated in a stretch of steeples and towers -surmounted by a murky cloud. There was Benham. -</p> - -<p> -Although they were too distant to discern more -than a confused panorama, Emil essayed a few -topographical details. He explained that twenty-five -years earlier Benham had comprised merely a -cluster of frame houses in the valley of the peaceful -river Nye, which still served as an aid to -description. Primarily a village on the south side -of the stream, it had first developed in a southerly -direction, spreading like a bursting seed also -laterally to east and west. Its original main street, -once bordered by old-fashioned frame houses -with grass-plots and shade trees, had evolved into -Central Avenue, at first the desirable street for -residences, but now, and considerably prior to his -advent, the leading retail shopping artery, alive -with dry-goods shops, into which the women -swarmed like flies. To the west of Central -Avenue lay the tide of social fashion culminating -two miles distant in the River Drive, a wide -avenue of stately private houses, situated where -the Nye made a broad bend to the north, and the -new district beyond the river, where the mansion -of Carleton Howard, the railroad magnate, stood -a pioneer among Elysian fields of real estate -enterprise, sanctified by immaculate road surfaces and -liberal electric light. -</p> - -<p> -Constance listened eagerly. She was interested -to know particulars concerning the city where she -was to live, and she enjoyed the lively sardonic -touches which relieved his description. Though -possessing an essentially earnest soul, she was -susceptible to humor, and had an aversion for lack of -appreciation of true conditions. -</p> - -<p> -To the east of Central Avenue, Stuart further -explained, lay first the shops and the business -centre, and then the polyglot army of citizens who -worked in the mills, oil yards, and pork factories. -Across the river to the south, approached by seven -bridges of iron, replacing two frail wooden -bridges of former days, were the mills and other -industrial establishments. Beyond these still -further to the north was Poland, so called, a -settlement of the Poles, favorite resort of the young -ladies of Benham's first families eager to offer the -benefits of religion and civilization to the ignorant -poor. Following the Nye in its sweep to the -north, until it deflected again to the east, so as to -run almost parallel to its first course, but in the -opposite direction, were the public park, the land -bonded for an Art Museum, Wetmore College -(the Woman's Academy of learning), and the -other more or less ornamental institutions. This -region of embryo public buildings, garnished with -august spaces, was a sort of boundary line on the -north, turning the current of industrial population -more to the east. Just as the tide to the west of -Central Avenue was one of increasing comfort and -fashion, this to the southeast, stretching out as -the city spread, and forced constantly forward by -the encroachments of trade, was one of common -workaday conditions, punctuated (as he phrased -it) now and again by poverty and distress. -</p> - -<p> -"I tell you, Miss——" -</p> - -<p> -"Forbes, Constance Forbes is my name." -</p> - -<p> -"Thank you. I tell you, Miss Forbes, Benham -is a wideawake city. We have all the modern -improvements. But the rich man gets the cream -every time. I heard millionaire Carleton Howard, -the railroad magnate, say the other day from -the platform, that there is no country in the world -where the poor man is so well off as in this. Yet -it's equally true that the rich are all the time -getting richer and the poor poorer. He neglected to -state that." He laughed scornfully, and his eyes -sought Constance's face for approval. She knew -little concerning millionaires or the truth of the -proposition he was advancing, but it interested her -to perceive that he was evidently on the side of -the unfortunate, for she cherished a keen pity for -the ignorant poor almost as a heritage. Her -father had been a country physician—an energetic, -sympathetic man, whose large vitality had -been spent in relieving the sufferings of a clientage -of small tillers of the soil over an area of fifteen -miles. He had often spoken to her with pathos -of the patient struggles of the common people. -Her own susceptibility to human suffering had -been early quickened by the destiny of her mother, -who had been thrown from a sleigh shortly after -Constance's birth, and had remained a paralytic -invalid to the day of her death, requiring incessant -care. -</p> - -<p> -"When I run for Congress," he resumed, scowling -slightly as he fixed his gaze on the murky -cloud surmounting Benham, "it'll be on a platform -advocating government ownership of railroads, -telegraphs, water-works, electric street cars, and -all the other fat things out of which our modern -philanthropists with capital squeeze enormous -profits at the expense of their fellow-citizens. I'm -against all that sort of thing. Buy a gas plant -to-day and consolidate it with another to-morrow. -Profit to the promoter two hundred per cent., -without leaving the office. What does the -consumer get? Cheaper gas and greater efficiency. -That's the fine-sounding tag; and some of the -horny-handed multitude are guileless enough to -believe it. It won't be long though now before -I make my own pile," he added, not quite -relevantly. "I'd have made it before this if they -hadn't hindered me." -</p> - -<p> -Constance perceived that he expected her to -inquire what this meant, and she was curious to -know. So she asked. -</p> - -<p> -"My employers, Toler & Company. If I had -had the capital and the opportunities of those -people, I should be wearing diamonds. I've tried -to point out to them more than once that they -were throwing big chances away by being so -conservative and old-fashioned in their methods -instead of branching out boldly and making a ten -strike. One thing is certain, I'm not going to -invent ideas for them for a pitiful one thousand -dollars a year much longer. If they think they -can afford not to raise my salary and give me a -chance to show what I can do, I'm going to let -them try after January first. It isn't very -pleasant, Miss Forbes, to be doing most of the work -and see someone else reaping all the profits. They -can't help making money, old fogies as they are." -</p> - -<p> -It was certainly a galling situation. Constance, -who was young herself, felt that she sympathized -with his desire to compel recognition. -</p> - -<p> -"It doesn't seem right at all," she said, "that -you should be kept down." -</p> - -<p> -"I've made up my mind to give them notice -that I must have an interest in the business after -the first of the year, or I quit and start on my own -account. I've my eye on a man with five thousand -dollars who will go into partnership with me I -hope." -</p> - -<p> -Constance thought of her own five thousand -dollars. She would almost like to lend it to him, -though, of course, that was out of the question. -Still, there would be no harm in offering moral -support. "If I were a man," she said, "and had -faith in my own abilities, I wouldn't remain in a -subordinate position a moment longer than was -really necessary." -</p> - -<p> -In response to this note of sympathy Emil -opened his bag and produced two sticks of -chocolate. He broke them apart and presented one -to his companion. He also exhibited a -compressible metal drinking-cup, which he filled from -the bubbling brook. A crow cawed in the pine -copse as though to call attention to the idyl, but -only the two philosophers on the fallen tree-trunk -were within hearing of his note of irony, and they -regarded it merely as an added rural charm. -</p> - -<p> -"Would you object to my smoking my pipe?" -</p> - -<p> -"Not in the least. My father was devoted to -his pipe." -</p> - -<p> -Another bond of sympathy. Or at least an -indication to the swain that here was a maiden who -was no spoil-sport and who would not have to be -wooed by the sacrifice of personal comfort. -Moreover, it was not lost on him that she was -an attractive-looking maiden, and that her voice -was well modulated and refined. Yet he was not -thinking of her, but merely of her sex in general, -when he said, "Besides, I hope to be married some -day. How could I support a wife in Benham on -one thousand dollars a year in the manner in -which I should wish her to live?" -</p> - -<p> -Constance could not answer this question, and -did not try. It belonged to the category of -remarks which were to be treated by a single woman -as monologues. But she was keenly interested. -One thousand dollars a year did not seem to her -a very pitiful sum for a young couple just -starting in life. She had heard her father say that -when he married her mother he had only a -hundred dollars in the world, and no assurance of -practice. But that was not in Benham. She had -already divined that Benham was to be a land of -surprises. At all events she could not help -admiring Mr. Stuart's chivalric attitude toward his -future wife. His ambition was obviously quickened -by the thought of his future sweetheart, whoever -she might be; which was an agreeable tribute -to her own sex, suggesting susceptibility to -sentiment. -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, I'd have been married before this if -Toler & Company had not, as you say, kept me -down," he continued, pensively, blowing a ring of -smoke to emphasize his mood. "When after -working hard all day I go to my room at night -and take up my violin, I often think that if I -could play to the woman I loved, instead of to the -blank wall, how much happier I should be. But -I suppose some of my friends would declare that -I was a fool to desire a yoke around my neck -before fate placed it there." -</p> - -<p> -His own readiness to relieve the stress of his -confession by a sardonic turn counteracted the -constraint which his intimate avowal had aroused. -Incredible as it is that a man in his sober senses -should offer himself to a woman the first time he -beholds her, no woman is altogether unaware that -he is liable to do so. A modest and thoughtful -young girl shrinks from precipitate progress in -affairs of the heart. Obviously the ground was -less dangerous than it had for a moment appeared, -but Constance sought the avenue of escape -which his allusion to music offered. Besides it -pleased her to hear that he was ęsthetic in his -interests. -</p> - -<p> -"You play on the violin, then?" she asked. "I -envy anybody who has the talent and the opportunity -for anything of that sort. I sing a little, -but my voice is uncultivated, for in Colton there -was no one to tell us our faults." The earnest -gleam in her fine dark eyes seemed to second the -fresh enthusiasm of her tone. -</p> - -<p> -The warning scream of the whistle, not the -voice of the crow, broke in at this point on their -preoccupation with each other. This was the -romantic episode from which their acquaintance -dated—an episode which might readily have -signified nothing. But on the other hand, it naturally -supplied to the party of the second part a fair -field of memory in which her imagination might -wander when stirred by the subsequent attentions -of this young knight with sympathy for the -unfortunate, resolute confidence in his own abilities, -generous views in regard to matrimony and a -sensitive, ęsthetic soul. For Emil Stuart sought her -out at once, visited her at her lodgings and gave -unmistakable signs that his purpose was both -honorable and definite. Within six months she knew -from his own lips that he wished to make her his -wife. She took another three in which to conquer -her scruples and maidenly disinclination to be won -too easily. Why should she not yield? He was -her first lover, and she loved him, and he declared -with fervor that he adored her. Contact with the -conditions of a large city had shown her unmistakably -that only after years of struggle could she -hope to be more than a mere hand-maiden in the -work of education, and that during the early -period of her employment, if not indeed for life, -the hours of work would be long and confining -and her pleasures few. Here was a companion -who would provide her with a home, and upon -whom the tenderness of her woman's nature could -be freely bestowed. It was the old, old story, she -said to herself, but was there a better one? -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap02"></a></p> - -<h3> -II -</h3> - -<p> -The young couple bought a small house on -the outskirts of the city, some distance -beyond the Nye, where it flows at right angles -with its original course, and in the general region -of fastidious growth, but in a settlement of -inexpensive villas to one side of the trend of fashion. -The bridegroom had not forgotten his liberal -intention to begin housekeeping on a somewhat -more ambitious scale than his salary as a clerk had -warranted. He was now the senior partner in the -firm of Stuart & Robinson, lumber dealers, which -had been in existence six months. He had parted -from his employers, Toler & Company, on the -first of January, because of their refusal to accede -to his demands, and had been able to persuade -the comrade with five thousand dollars, to whom -he had referred at his first meeting with -Constance to enter into a business alliance. -Robinson was three years his junior, and without -commercial experience, but eager to turn the windfall, -which had come to him through the death of an -aunt into a cool million. What could be more -natural than to take advantage of the experience -which Stuart offered him—an experience which -gave promise of swift and lucrative operations in -the near future? -</p> - -<p> -It was a very modest establishment, from the -standpoint of affluence. A neat little house of -eight rooms supplied with modern improvements, -and, though one of a builder's batch, designed -with some regard for artistic effect, which -indicated that a preference for harmonious beauty was -working in the popular mind of Benham against -the idols, colorless uniformity and bedizened -ugliness. To the bride, whose experience of -housekeeping was limited to a country town where -colorless uniformity ruled undisturbed and modern -improvements were unknown, the expenditure of -her nest-egg of five thousand dollars in this -complete little home seemed an investment no less -enchanting than wise. Five thousand for the house, -with a subsequent mortgage upon it of one -thousand for the purchase of the furniture and to -provide a small bank balance for emergencies. This -was her contribution to the domestic partnership, -and she rejoiced to think that her ability to help -to this extent would leave Emil a free hand for -the display of his business talent. -</p> - -<p> -The basis of a newly married woman's peace of -soul is trust. She feels that the responsibility is -on her husband to make good the manly qualities -with which she has endowed him, and because of -which she has consented to become his mate. -Occasionally during the first few months of her -married life Constance laughed to think that all her -maidenly eagerness to solve the riddle of life -brilliantly, and all her profound searching of the -mysteries of the universe should have ended in -her becoming an every-day housewife with -dustpan and brush, and the wife of one who, to all -outward appearances, was an every-day young -man. But her laugh savored of gladness. She -had given herself to him because she had faith -that his energy, self-reliance, fearless humor and -sympathetic hatred of shams would distinguish -him presently from the common herd of men, and -vindicate her infatuation. She had given herself -to him, besides, because he loved her—a delightful -consciousness. Accordingly, she enclosed herself -in the web of happiness which her confidence -in him had spun about her, and took up her -domestic duties with light-hearted devotion. -</p> - -<p> -Nevertheless, no woman emerges from her -honeymoon with exactly the same estimate of her -lover as before. If nothing else, she has seen his -mental and moral characteristics in their undress, -so to speak, and become habituated to their -sublimity. We may be no less fond of a person -whose anecdotes have grown familiar to us, and -analogously a wife does not weary of her husband's -qualities merely because they have lost the -glamor of novelty. On the contrary she is apt to -continue to adore them because they are his. Still -she feels free to scrutinize them closely -and—unconsciously at least—to submit them to the test -of her own silent judgment. She discovers, too, -of course, that he has sides and idiosyncrasies the -existence of which she never suspected. Ordinarily -she finds to her surprise that his attitude -in regard to this or that matter has shifted -perceptibly since marriage, so that, instead of being -lukewarm or ardent, as the case may be, he has -become almost strenuous or indifferent in his -attitude. Hence she divines that during their -courtship some of his real opinions and tendencies have -been kept in retreat. -</p> - -<p> -Constance sensibly had decided in advance that -Emil was not perfect, so she was prepared to -discover a blemish here and there. In spite of her -happiness it became obvious to her during the first -six months of their married life that the self-confidence -which had attracted her verged at times on -braggadocio, and moreover that opposition or -disappointment made him sour and morose. If his -affairs were prospering, his spirits rose, his wits -scintillated, and he spoke of the world with a gay, -if sardonic, forbearance, which suggested that it -was soon to be his foot-ball. But if matters went -wrong, he not only became depressed, but was -prone to dwell upon his own ill-luck, and inveigh -bitterly against the existing conditions of society. -She had noticed from the first days of their -acquaintance that there appeared to be an -inconsistency between his eagerness to grow rich and -his enmity toward the capitalists of Benham; but -she had gathered that he was merely eager to put -himself in a position where his sympathy for the -toiling mass could be fortified by the opportunities -which wealth would afford. But now that his -feverish absorption in business had apparently -banished all interest in philanthropic undertakings -from his thoughts, the inconsistency was more -conspicuous. -</p> - -<p> -Constance spoke to Emil about this at last. -Naturally, she broached the topic when he was in -one of his sanguine moods. In response he took -out his pocket-book and asked her how much she -required, having jumped to the conclusion that -she was beating around the bush and had some -particular object of charity in view. -</p> - -<p> -"You don't understand, exactly, Emil," she -answered. "I'm not asking for money; I was merely -hoping that having me to provide for isn't going -to cut you off from your former associations—to -lessen your sympathy with political movements -for the protection of the people such as you used -to take part in before we were married." -</p> - -<p> -Stuart frowned, and thrust his hands deep into -his pockets as he was apt to do when he felt his -oats. "You don't seem to realize, Constance, that -a man starting in business needs all his energy and -watchfulness to avoid having his head thrust -under water by the fellows who are on the -surface of the commercial whirlpool and who don't -want company. When I've got the sharks in my -line of trade where I want them, which is, -metaphorically speaking, at the bottom of the pond, -it'll be time enough to take up politics. You'd -like to see me in Congress some day, wouldn't you? -Well, that will be plain sailing for me in this -district as soon as I control the lumber business of -Benham, little saint." -</p> - -<p> -This sounded plausible, and did not seem to -admit of argument, provided the consummation -of the business supremacy indicated by her -husband was not deferred too long. She dismissed -the matter from her mind for the time being. It -was less easy to dispose of another tendency which -had revealed itself in unmistakable guise since their -marriage, and this was Emil's indifferent attitude, -not merely toward her form of religious faith, but -toward all religion. Within a short time after -their acquaintance began she had discovered that -he was not an Episcopalian, and that his views -regarding the spiritual problems of the universe -were not those of orthodox Christians. But on -the other hand, although he was fond even then -of blowing down her card-houses, as he called -them, with an occasional blast of scientific truth, -he had been ready to accompany her to church -and had never seemed lacking in reverence. She -had asked herself the question why she should -stifle her love for him merely because his conception -of the eternal mysteries did not coincide with -her own, and she had answered it by the independent -assurance that his attitude toward life was the -important consideration. She had even been -fascinated by his broad outlook on the universe, with -his flashing eyes and his righteous contempt for -some of the dogmas of the sects. He had seemed -to her imagination at such times almost as a -reforming archangel purging away the dross of -superstition and convention from the essentials of -religious faith. He did not believe in the miracles, -it is true, because he regarded them as violations -of the laws of the universe; but was he not a -firm believer in the spirit of Christian conduct? -</p> - -<p> -She had reasoned thus as a maiden, and had -never doubted the soundness of her self-justification. -But the sequel was disturbing to her peace -of mind and to her hopes. It was not Emil's -refusal to go to church, nor his dedication of the -Sabbath to mere rest and recreation which -distressed her, but his scornful tone in regard to any -form of religious ceremonial; his scornful tone -toward her own reverence for the faith in which -she had been educated. Even the term of endearment -which he coined for her, "little saint," was -a jocose and condescending appellation reflecting -on her susceptibility to ideas which clever people -had discarded as fatuous. She could have borne -without complaint going to church alone had he -been willing to respect her opinions as she -respected his. But on her return from service he -was sure to greet her with some ironical jest which -made painfully clear that he regarded her habit -of worship as a sign of mental inferiority. His -own habit on Sunday was to remain in bed until -after the church hour. Then he would establish -himself in a loose-fitting woolen garment, which -he called his smoking-jacket, on the porch or in -the sitting-room and read the Sunday papers, with -a pipe in his mouth. Sometimes he played on his -violin, and by the time Constance returned he was -ready for a short walk, ostensibly for the sake of -exercising a small black and white terrier. His -wife could not accompany him on this stroll, for -she could not neglect their mid-day dinner, and -when he sat down at table he was apt, if the -weather was fine, to refer pathetically to the sin -of having wasted it in the city. "If only you were -content, little saint, to worship nature with me," -he would say, "we would get away into the country -with a luncheon basket the first thing in the -morning and make a day of it in the woods." -</p> - -<p> -There was something winsome in this proposition, -especially as the inability to enjoy an outing -because of her reluctance to renounce church -worship seemed to spoil his day in a double sense. -For, as a consequence, he ate a huge Sunday -dinner, including two bottles of beer, smoked more -than his wont, and after a tirade against the evils -of monopoly or some kindred topic invariably fell -into a heavy slumber on the lounge, from which -he did not awaken until nearly sunset. -</p> - -<p> -"Another Sunday wasted," he more than once -remarked by way of melancholy comment on this -state of affairs. -</p> - -<p> -No wonder that Constance was perplexed as to -her duty. Since coming to Benham she had been -a member of Rev. George Prentiss's parish. Her -mother was of English descent, and Constance -had been brought up in the Episcopal faith. At -Colton there had been no church of that denomination, -and to attend the Episcopal service one -had to drive or walk two miles to a neighboring -village. It had often seemed to Constance more -important to remain at home with her invalid -mother than to take this excursion. Consequently, -during her girlhood, she had been irregular -in her attendance at church. Frequently, in order -to be able to return home more speedily, she had -worshipped at the Methodist or Unitarian -meeting-house in the village. Sometimes she had -stayed away altogether; therefore she understood -the fascination of communion with books or with -spring buds or autumn leaves as a substitute for -worship in the sanctuary. Her untrammelled -experience had made her open-minded and independent, -but on the other hand the difficulty of kneeling -at her own shrine had nourished her sentiment -for the Episcopal faith, so that she had rejoiced -spiritually in the opportunity, which her residence -in Benham afforded, to become a regular and -devoted member of Mr. Prentiss's flock. Moreover, -the vital character of St. Stephen's as a -religious body had appealed to her. The little -church near Colton had been a peaceful and poetic, -but poor and unenterprising establishment. -Contrasted with it, St. Stephen's appeared a splendid -and powerful influence for righteousness, stirring -deeply her ęsthetic sensibilities, and at the same -time proving its living, practical grasp on human -character through its able pastor and active -organization. St. Stephen's never slumbered; -St. Stephen's prided itself on its ardent faith and -essentially modern spirit; and St. Stephen's, by -common acceptance, was synonymous with its rector, -Rev. George Prentiss. -</p> - -<p> -Mr. Prentiss had grown up with the church. -That is, he had been curate to the Rev. Henry -Glynn, an Englishman who had selected Benham -as a promising pasture for the propagation of the -Episcopal faith beyond the pale of the mother -country, who had gone forth into the wilderness -and had lived to see a goodly flock of sheep -browsing beneath his ministrations. Mr. Glynn was a -pioneer, and had gone forth in the early seventies -when Benham was in the throes of rapid -progress and extraordinary development from -month to month. His mission had been to spread -the tenets of his sect by the zeal and eloquence of -his testimony, and to provide a suitable edifice for -the human souls attracted by his teachings. In -his time the congregation forsook the small and -primitive structure, erected in hot haste within a -year of his arrival, for a commodious and sufficiently -ęsthetic building. Before his death, which -occurred prematurely, Benham had become a -large and important municipality. His successor -found himself not only the pastor of the leading -Episcopal Church of the city—which had also in -the process of social evolution become the most -fashionable and probably the richest church in -the city—but a shepherd in a wilderness of a -different sort. In other words, he was brought -suddenly face to face with the problems which -confront earnest spirits eager to redeem human -nature in a huge industrial community. The former -wilderness had blossomed, even with the rose, -but the thistles, tares, and rank grass which fought -for mastery with the wholesome vegetation had -revolutionized the soil. There were scores of -saloons in Benham; there was a herd of immoral -women on the streets of Benham; and, most -perplexing problem of all, perhaps, there were, only -a mile apart, the picturesque neighborhood of the -Riverside Drive with its imposing, princely, -private mansions, and Smith Street, boulevard of -unwholesome tenement-houses, garnished with -rumshops and squalid lives—contrast repugnant and -disconcerting to American ideals, and to him as -an American. -</p> - -<p> -But Rev. George Prentiss was not the man to -shrink from deep and important responsibilities. -On the contrary, it might be said of him that he -revelled in them. The consciousness that, in spite -of Benham's mushroom-like growth as a proud -testimonial to the sacredness of institutions -established by the free-born, the city had begun closely -to resemble large cities everywhere was sobering, -but on the whole, inspiriting to him as a worker. -His mission was clearly disclosed to him—a -mission worthy of the energies of a clergyman eager -to bring his church into closer touch with -everyday life and common human conditions. For -Mr. Prentiss as an American and a churchman was -ambitious for the future of the Episcopal faith. -His predecessor and friend had seen in their -pastorate only a glorious continuation of English -orthodoxy—a spiritual revolt from dissent, -transcendentalism and cold, intellectual independence, -which would, in the end, gather sixty million -people into a Protestant fold, national in its title and -dimensions. Mr. Prentiss shared this delectable -vision, but he would not have American -Episcopacy a mere blind imitation of the mother -church or a colonial dependency. He felt that it -behooved those of his faith on this side of the -Atlantic to gird their loins zealously, and to -guide their sheep fearlessly, receiving with -respectful attention the interpretations of the -spiritual lords of Great Britain regarding dogma, -but exercising intelligent discretion in regard to -their adoption. This attitude, which might be -called patriotism, in some sense reflected the pride -which Dante, that stern censor of prelates, -condemns. Was the Church of England to prescribe -doctrine to the thriving, hardy child of its loins -forever? Surely not, now that that child, waxing -in size and resources and dignified with power, -promised soon to rival its parent. It was agreeable -to the rector of St. Stephen's to reflect that -the tide of fashion was bearing the children of -Unitarian and other indeterminate faiths into the -fold of the true and living church of Christ. It -was also agreeable to behold in his mind's eye that -church—the American church—taking advantage -of this splendid opportunity and accepting with -fearless and uncompromising zeal the challenge of -infidelity and materialism. The people were tired, -he believed, of intellectual, spiritual dissipation, -in which each soul formed its own conception of -God, and defined the terms of its own compact -with Him. They were welcoming fervor, passion, -color and all the symbols of a faith which -beholds in man a miserable sinner redeemed -through the blood of Christ. If the people of his -nationality had been reluctant in the days of their -early history, when population was sparse and sin -was kept at bay by primitive economic conditions, -to admit that man was a sinner, could they doubt -it now? Was not Benham with its bustling, -seething, human forces an eloquent testimonial to -the reality of evil and the intensity of the struggle -between the powers of darkness? The Church's -mission—his mission—was to take an active part, -in a modern spirit, in the great work of regeneration -by bringing light to the blind, sympathy and -relief to the down-trodden and protection to the -oppressed. -</p> - -<p> -Mr. Prentiss had carried his theories energetically -into practice. He had striven to make St. Stephen's -a tabernacle for the prosperous and the -fortunate and also for the desolate and the -friendless. His wish would have been to see them -intermingled at morning service without regard to -vested rights, but his wardens assured him that the -finances of the church could not be conducted -successfully except on the basis of inviolable pew -ownership until after the morning service had begun. -But he was able to throw the church open in the -afternoon to the general public, and to reserve in -the morning certain gallery and less desirable -benches for the accommodation of young men and -women students who wished to worship regularly -and could not afford to hire seats. If it was at -first a tribulation to him that his congregation was -rich and fashionable and a little stolid, their -liberality on collection days was a great compensation, -for it gave him scope for extending his influence -along the line of his ambition by the establishment -of the mission church, known as the Church of -the Redeemer, in the heart of Benham's arid -social quarter, as an adjunct to St. Stephen's, and -to be maintained by the generosity of that body -of Christians. When this undertaking was in full -operation, under the direction of a competent -curate, Mr. Prentiss experienced fewer qualms as -he looked down from his reading-desk at the gay -bonnets and costly toilets of his own parishioners. -He had been assured by several women active -in church work that the independent poor -were not fond of worshipping where their clothes -would show at a disadvantage. As a Christian -who was an American, he deplored the formation -of classes in the sheep-fold of the church; yet he -reasoned that the preferences of human nature -could not be ignored altogether in a matter of this -kind, and it was evident that his parishioners -preferred to worship God in full possession of their -property rights, surrounded by their social -acquaintance. There was a zest, too, in the -knowledge that he was the rector of the important and -powerful people of the city, and that he had the -opportunity to denounce the commercial spirit of -the age in the presence of men like Carleton -Howard, the millionaire, and women like his sister, -Mrs. Randolph Wilson, and their friends. If he -could reach their hearts, what might he not hope -for? Obviously by the support of this class the -Church could not fail to increase its revenues and -extend its power. The triumph of the Church -was after all, for him, the essential thing—the -illumination of the souls of men through faith in -the Christian ideal. So with this end constantly -in view, Rev. George Prentiss ministered to his -well-favored congregation in St. Stephen's, and -vicariously, and often by personal service, -conducted a crusade against ignorance and sin in the -Church of the Redeemer and its neighborhood. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap03"></a></p> - -<h3> -III -</h3> - -<p> -Constance Forbes had been one of the -students who found a haven on the free -benches at St. Stephen's. Almost at once -Mr. Prentiss noticed her and, struck by her interesting -face, he sent the church deaconess, Mrs. Hammond, -to visit her at her lodgings. She was -invited to join a Bible class of young women of her -own age, and welcomed to the social parlor in the -vestry provided for girls who, like herself, were -strangers in Benham. Here there were magazines, -writing materials, and afternoon tea. -While availing herself of these privileges, -Constance frequently met her rector. He inquired -sympathetically concerning her work and aspirations, -and showed afterward that he kept her distinctly -in mind. She felt that she could freely consult -him if she were in need of advice; once or -twice she did consult him about her reading; and -she was gratified by the interest which he took in -her marriage. -</p> - -<p> -Consequently, the idea of not attending morning -service was distressing to her. She felt sure -that Mr. Prentiss would notice it and be -disappointed. Yet, what were Mr. Prentiss and his -feelings in comparison with her obligation to her -husband? Emil's Sundays were spoiled because -she would not accompany him to the country -instead of going to church. His attitude was -unreasonable and absurd, but the fact remained that he -did not go alone, and lounged at home instead. -After all, she was no longer a girl, and her -religious faith would not be imperilled were she to -miss church now and then. Moreover, though -she held fast to her creed and deplored Emil's -radical views, she knew in her heart that she was -more critical than formerly of what she heard in -church, and that she was sometimes driven by her -doubts as to the possibility of supernatural -happenings to seek refuge behind the impenetrable -fortress of a righteous life. There she was safe -and happy, and free, it seemed to her, from the -responsibility of harassing her young housewife's -brains with non-essentials. Might it not be for -her own advantage to take a respite from religious -functions? Certainly her companionship to Emil -seemed more important at the moment than her -own habit of public worship. -</p> - -<p> -She began by staying away from church occasionally. -Emil expressed delight at her reasonableness -and carried out with zest his plan of a -Sunday outing. It was a simple matter on their -bicycles, or by a few minutes in the train, to reach -country air and sylvan scenes, and he was entirely -satisfied to spend the day in tramping through the -woods and fields, stopping to fish or to lie in the -sun as the humor seized him. The working-man's -Sabbath, he termed it. The programme was -restful and alluring to Constance also. Her husband -on these occasions seemed less at odds with the -world, and willing to enjoy himself without -rancor or argument. After their luncheon he would -smoke complacently for awhile and then take up -his fiddle and practise upon it with genuine -content for an hour or more, while she sat with her -back against a tree or a bank, reading. He still -drank his bottles of beer, but if he slumbered, it -was only for a brief period. He never neglected -his fiddle, and its influence appeared, as it were, -to soothe his savage breast, and to make him -good-humored and agreeably philosophic. He -was too fond of theorizing to neglect altogether -these opportunities for the enunciation of his -grievances against civilization, but he was lively -instead of bitter, a distinction which meant much -to his wife. -</p> - -<p> -When their first baby was born, these Sunday -excursions were temporarily discontinued; but -Constance was eager to renew them, for Emil, -after going alone a few times, relapsed into his -old habits. Accordingly, as soon as the little one -was able to toddle, a child's wagon was procured, -which Emil was ready to draw, and by avoiding -fences and other barriers, the difficulties presented -by this new tie were overcome. By the time the -child was a year and a half old, Constance realized -that she had been to church but once in the last -twelve months. -</p> - -<p> -This had been partly due to the action of the -rector of St. Stephen's, for Constance knew within -a few weeks of her first absences from church that -her conduct had been noticed. The curate, -Mr. Starkworth, inquired at the door if there had been -illness in the family. Later the deaconess made -a call of friendly observation, in the course of -which it transpired that Mr. Prentiss had -observed that Mrs. Stuart no longer occupied her -seat. The culprit did not attempt to explain, and -within a fortnight she received a visit from the -rector himself. No one could have been more -affable and reassuring. He established himself -in an easy chair and accepted graciously the cigar -which Emil proffered him. He was a large man -of dignified mien and commanding person, clerical -as to his dress and visage, but with a manner -of conversation approximating that of men of the -world—an individual manifestation which was -intended to reveal a modern spirit. He was -clearly a person with whom liberties could not be -taken, and yet evidently one who desired to divest -his point of view of cant, and to put religion on a -man to man, business basis so far as was consistent -with his sacred calling. He asked genial -questions concerning their domestic welfare, and -the progress of the new lumber firm, spoke -shrewdly of local politics in which he supposed -that Stuart was engaged, and sought obviously to -give the impression that he was an all-round man -in his sympathies, and that he took an active -interest in temporal matters. When at last there -was a favorable pause in the current of this secular -conversation, Mr. Prentiss laid his hands on his -knees, and, bending forward and looking from -one to the other in a friendly way, said with -decision: -</p> - -<p> -"I have missed you two young people at church -lately." -</p> - -<p> -</p> - -<p class="capcenter"> -<a id="img-032"></a> -<img class="imgcenter" src="images/img-032.jpg" alt=""I have missed you two young people at church lately."" /> -<br /> -"I have missed you two young people at church lately." -</p> - -<p> -Constance winced at the inquiry, and her eyes -fell beneath the clergyman's searching gaze. She -could not deny the impeachment, which was -embarrassing. At the same time the color had -scarcely mounted to her cheeks before she felt the -force of her defence rising to her support, and she -looked up. She appreciated that it was incumbent -on her, as the active church member, to respond, -and she became suddenly solicitous lest -Emil might, and so make matters worse. In -truth, Emil's first impulse had been toward anger. -It was one of his maxims not to submit to -browbeating. But what he regarded as the humor of -the proceeding changed his wrath into scorn, and -he closed his teeth on his pipe with the dogged air -of a master of the situation willing to be amused -withal. Mr. Prentiss divined in a flash, from the -insolence of this expression, that he had to deal -with a hopeless case—so far as the human soul -can ever seem hopeless to the missionary—a -contemptuous materialist, and his own countenance -grew grave as he turned back to the wife. -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, we have been very little, Mr. Prentiss. -My husband, you know, does not belong to your -church. He went with me while we were engaged, -but—but now I think I can help him best by -staying away for the present." -</p> - -<p> -"You go elsewhere, then?" -</p> - -<p> -"No. We do not go to church. We spend our -Sundays in the country—in the fresh air, walking -and resting. We take our luncheon, and my -husband brings his fiddle and his fishing rod." -</p> - -<p> -Constance marvelled at her own boldness, and -at the ardor with which she delivered her plea of -justification. -</p> - -<p> -"I understand," said Mr. Prentiss. His tone -was sober, but not impatient. The argument for -a day of rest and recreation for the tired man of -affairs was nothing new to him. Nor was -Mr. Prentiss ignorant of its plausible value. He -wished to meet it without temper, as one rational -being discussing with another, notwithstanding -eternal verities were concerned. -</p> - -<p> -"Supposing, Mrs. Stuart, that everyone were -to reason in the same way, what would become of -our churches?" -</p> - -<p> -"They would have to go out of commission," -muttered Emil with delighted brusqueness. -</p> - -<p> -The rector saw fit to bear this brutality -without offence. He ignored the commentator with -his eyes, as though to indicate that his mission was -solely to the wife, but he answered, -</p> - -<p> -"They would, and the Christian faith would -perish in the process. Are you, Mrs. Stuart," he -continued, "prepared to do without the offices of -religion, and to substitute for them a pagan -holiday?" -</p> - -<p> -"We pass the day very quietly and simply," -said Constance. "We disturb no one and -interfere with no one." -</p> - -<p> -"But you become pagans, utterly." -</p> - -<p> -"I try to think that God hears my prayers in -the open air no less than in church, while I am -keeping my husband company." It wounded her -to oppose her rector, yet the need of a champion -for her husband's cause supplied her with speech, -and gave to her countenance quiet determination. -Constance possessed one of those lithe, nervous -personalities, so frequently to be met with in -American women of every class, the signal -attribute of which is bodily and mental refinement. -Her hair was dark, her face thin, her eyes brown -and wistful, her figure tall and elastic; her pretty -countenance had the charm of temperament rather -than mere flesh and blood, and its sympathetic, -intelligent comeliness suggested spiritual vigor. -</p> - -<p> -Mr. Prentiss was not blind to these qualities. -They had attracted him at the beginning of their -acquaintance, and he was the more solicitous on -account of them to reclaim her from error. -</p> - -<p> -"God hears your prayers wherever you utter -them, be assured of that. But I ask you to -consider whether the habit of neglecting public -worship is not a failure in reverence to the Christ who -listens to our supplications and without whose aid -we are helpless to overcome sin." -</p> - -<p> -Emil had been delighted by his wife's sturdy -attitude. Now that a question of doctrine was -brought into the discussion, he felt that the time -had come for him to intervene again. "We who -worship in the presence of nature are not -hampered by dogmas of that kind," he said. -"Temptation is temptation, and I for one have never -been able to understand why the man who gets -the better of it isn't entitled to the credit of his -strength and sense. My wife looks at such things -very much as I do." -</p> - -<p> -"Not altogether, Emil. You know I miss not -going to church." -</p> - -<p> -"I have never prevented you from going." -</p> - -<p> -"But you have discountenanced it, man. It is -to please you, and to humor your views that your -wife is sacrificing her most sacred convictions," -Mr. Prentiss exclaimed with a touch of sternness. -</p> - -<p> -"You think church-going of the utmost -importance; I do not. There's where we differ. -Everyone must decide those questions for -himself—or herself." -</p> - -<p> -The rector resented the smug assurance of the -retort by a frown and a twist of his shoulders, as -though he were sorry that he had condescended -to bandy words with this irreverent person. -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, we all must," he said, addressing Constance. -"'He that loveth father or mother more -than me is not worthy of me.'" -</p> - -<p> -He regretted the next instant having indulged -in this clerical formula, which was foreign to his -usual method. -</p> - -<p> -Constance flushed at the words of Scripture, -then she drew herself up slightly and said: -</p> - -<p> -"I am very sorry, indeed, to disappoint you, -Mr. Prentiss, but I can't promise to attend church -regularly at present. Perhaps it is true, as my -husband says, that my opinions have changed -somewhat in regard to points of faith. I hope—I -shall pray that after a time we may both come -back to you." -</p> - -<p> -There was no mistaking the finality of this -unequivocal but gently uttered speech, and -Mr. Prentiss knew that one of the signs of a man of -the world is the capacity to take a hint. Though -it galled him to leave this attractive member of -his flock in the clutches of one so apparently unfit -to appreciate her bodily or spiritual graces, he -recognized that to press the situation at this point -could result only in separating her still further -from the influence of the church. "You shall -have my prayers, too—both of you," he said, -fervently. Then he arose and resumed the demeanor -of a friendly caller. -</p> - -<p> -But Emil, now that he had shown clearly that -he had the courage of his convictions, felt the need -of vindicating his character as a host. He said -jauntily, "I hope there's no offence in standing up -for what one believes to be true. It's one of the -greatest poets, you know, who wrote -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - There lives more faith in honest doubt,<br /> - Believe me, than in half the creeds."<br /> -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -"You young whipper snapper!" was Mr. Prentiss's -unuttered comment, but he did not relax his -lay serenity of manner save by the slight vein of -sarcasm which his words contained. "No offence, -certainly. But you should also bear in mind, -young man, that others no less mentally qualified -than yourself have pondered the problems of the -universe and come to very different conclusions. -A man takes large responsibilities upon himself -in deciding to deprive his wife and children of the -comforts of religion." -</p> - -<p> -"I am anxious that my children when they grow -up may not be obliged, as I was, to unlearn what -they were taught to believe in their youth," Emil -retorted with smiling effrontery. He was pleased -with his wife and with himself and he was glad to -get in a final body blow on the person of this -officious slummer, as he subsequently described -their visitor. -</p> - -<p> -"I am not unfamiliar with that line of argument," -said Mr. Prentiss, in the act of departure. -"But I invite you to consider whether your children, -when they are old enough to think for themselves, -will be grateful for the substitute which -you offer for doctrine. They ask for bread, and -what do you give them? A stone." -</p> - -<p> -Emil laughed. He was content to let the -parson have the last word. He stood for a moment -on the door-step watching him march down the -street. He felt that he had turned the tables on -him completely and had thereby won a victory for -clear thinking and freedom of thought. He -exclaimed exultantly as he re-entered the parlor, "I -guess that'll teach the old duck to stay in his own -barn-yard and not come waddling down here to -try to get us to believe that the world was made in -seven days and Jonah was swallowed by the -whale." -</p> - -<p> -Constance, who had fallen into troubled reverie, -looked up and exclaimed with emphasis, "Mr. Prentiss -is a very reasonable man about such matters, -Emil. He used particularly to tell his Bible -class that the language of the Old Testament is -sometimes metaphorical." -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, I know how the clergy jump and change -feet to avoid being cornered. I'm aware they -explain that the seven days were not our days of -twenty-four hours, but were symbolic terms for -geological stretches of time. Do you call that -ingenuous?" -</p> - -<p> -Constance winced. It happened that Mr. Prentiss -had offered just this explanation of holy writ, -and somehow, now that Emil held it up to scorn, -the rector's commentary appeared flimsy. She -sighed, then with emotion said, "Emil, I wish you -would tell me what you really do believe." -</p> - -<p> -"Believe?" He smiled indulgently as he -echoed his wife's inquiry, but his eyes snapped and -his shock of hair seemed to stand up straighter. -His manner expressed a mixture of amused -condescension and the tartness of a dogged spirit -suspicious of attack. "I believe, for one thing, that -the laws of nature are never violated, and that -their integrity is a grander attribute of divinity -than the various sensational devices which the -orthodox maintain that an all-wise God employs -to attract the attention of men to Himself. I -believe also that you in your secret soul entirely agree -with me." -</p> - -<p> -Constance was silent a moment. "And yet you -haven't answered my question, Emil. You haven't -told me what you do believe. Why isn't religion -just as real and true a part of man as any other -instinct of his being? It has been a constantly -growing attribute." -</p> - -<p> -"And the nonsense is being gradually squeezed -out of it. Why should I accept the dogma of that -reverend father in God that a man can do nothing -by his own efforts? Isn't it a finer thought -that we grow by virtue of our struggles and that -the free and independent soul wins the battle of -life by making the most of itself?" -</p> - -<p> -Emil spoke with fierce rhetoric. To his wife's -ear he seemed to be pointing out besides that his -own soul was fighting this battle and that he was -willing to be judged by the results regardless of -doctrine. Constance had long ago convinced -herself that his bark was worse than his bite; that he -believed more than he really admitted of the -essentials of religion; that he acknowledged his -responsibility to God and was devoting his days to -advancing the useful work of the world, and -incidentally providing for her happiness at the same -time. His plea for credit to the independent soul -which overcame temptation and obstacles was, at -least, manly, and a sign of courage. She scarcely -heeded the quotation from the "Rubaiyat," which -he was murmuring as a corollary to his apostrophe -to free and noble endeavor. -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - O thou who didst with pitfall and with gin<br /> - Beset the path I was to wander in,<br /> - Thou wilt not with predestined evil round<br /> - Enmesh and then impute my fall to sin?<br /> -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -She had heard him quote these lines and others -of like import before, and she had learned some -of them by rote. She recognized their charm and -cleverness and to a certain extent their plausibility; -but she had not the slightest impulse to revolutionize -her own faith. Her absorbing thought, -for the moment, was how to be true to her husband -without being false to the church. Mr. Prentiss, -in spite of his appeal, had left her conscience -unconvinced, and now her clear-headed, fearless Emil -had suddenly given her soul the cue to expression. -Her brown eyes kindled rapturously and trustfully -as she said: -</p> - -<p> -"It's the life after all which counts, isn't it? -Everything else is of secondary importance." -</p> - -<p> -"Of course," said Emil. "And when it comes -to that," he added, "there's no one in the world -who can pick a flaw in yours, you little saint." -</p> - -<p> -"You mustn't say things like that," Constance -murmured. Nevertheless, so far as it was a -manifestation of confidence from the man she loved, it -was pleasant to hear. -</p> - -<p> -From this time her attendance at church was -very infrequent. She did not cease to go -altogether, but almost every Sunday was spent in -expeditions in the open air. The cares resulting -from the birth of two children necessarily -interfered with her going regularly to service while -they were infants, and as soon as they were able -to walk, the Sunday outings were resumed with -the little boy and girl as companions. Mr. Prentiss -did not revisit the house, but on each of the -two or three occasions when Constance occupied -her old seat in St. Stephen's, she felt that the -rector had noticed her. He had apparently left her -to her devices, but his glance told her that she was -not forgotten. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap04"></a></p> - -<h3> -IV -</h3> - -<p> -It is fitting and fortunate that a young woman -in a large city, who has given her happiness -into the keeping of a man with his own way to -make, should be ignorant of her peril, and that -charmed by love she should take for granted that -he will succeed. But the rest of the world has no -excuse for being equally blind, since the rest of -the world is aware that there is no recipe by which -a girl of twenty can secure a guaranty either of -domestic happiness or ability on the part of her -lover to hold his own in the competition for a -livelihood. It is easy for the moralist of society, -writing at his desk, to utter the solemn truth that -young people should not rush hastily into -matrimony. Assuredly they should not. But after -all, is it to be wondered at that so many of them -do? Love is the law of life. The renewal of -the race through the union of the sexes is an -instinct which asserts itself in spite of code and -thesis, and the institution of lawful wedlock is the -bit by which civilization regulates it. Let us, says -the modern scientist, isolate the degenerate members -of society, the diseased, the vicious, and the -improvident, and prevent them from having -offspring. But still the priest of Rome, eager for -fresh converts, but wise, too, in his knowledge of -the law of sex, whispers to his flock "marry early," -and adds under his breath, "lest ye sin." It is a -part of religion, perhaps, for the daughters of -the well-to-do, who have been screened from -contact with the rough world, and who sit in -judgment on several lovers in the paternal drawing-room, -to weigh and ponder and to call in the brain -to assist, or if needs be, silence the heart. Yet -even they sometimes elope instead with the wrong -man against whom they have been warned, and -are unhappy—or happy—ever afterward. But -when we turn from these privileged young -persons—the pretty, daintily dressed young women in -their Easter bonnets, who worship at our -fashionable churches—and from some height look out -over wide stretches of streets with every house -alike, the homes of the average working population, -and reflect that every house shelters the -consequences of a marriage, shall we ask pitilessly, -"How came ye so?" And if the answer of some -be "we met and loved and married, and now we -are miserable," shall we draw ourselves up and -tell them that the fault is theirs, that marriages -are (or should be) made in heaven, and that they -ought to have discovered before they plighted -their troth that John would be a rascal or Mary -a slattern? Is it not the privilege and the -blessing of the young to trust? Shall we blame them -if, in the ignorance of youth and under the spell -of the law of their beings, they mistake unworthy -souls for their ideals? -</p> - -<p> -The firm of Stuart & Robinson, dealers in -lumber, had started with a small capital, but the -senior partner had confidence in his capacity to -do a large business. His late employers, Toler -& Company, according to his opinion, had been -old fogies in their methods. To adopt his own -metaphor, instead of getting up early and shaking -the trees, they expected to have ripe peaches -served to them on Sevrčs china, or, in other -words, they let great opportunities slip through -their fingers. He proceeded during the first year -to carry out several enterprises which he had vainly -called to their attention while in their service, and -he had the satisfaction of proving his wisdom -and of doubling the firm's assets at the same time. -Emil's plans were essentially on a large scale, and -he was confessedly cramped even after this -success. He explained to his wife that if only he -had the necessary capital, he would be able at one -fell swoop to control the lumber yards and -lumber market of Benham. As it was, he must wait -and probably see others appropriate ideas which -he had suggested by his novel and brilliant -operations. The prophecy indeed proved true, and -Emil saw with a morose eye what he called his -harvest gleaned by others. This vindictive -attitude toward the successful was the invariable -frame of mind into which he relapsed when he was -not carrying everything before him, and as a -result those in the trade presently began to speak of -him as a crank. His quick comprehension was -admitted, but his associates shook their heads when -his name was mentioned, and hinted that he was -a dangerous man, who would bear watching. It -was almost inevitable that a lean period should -follow Emil's series of clever undertakings. -Toward the end of the second year, he found -himself in a position where he had not the means to -enlarge the scope of his operations. His working -capital was locked up in sundry purchases -which he had expected would show quick profits, -but which hung fire. If he liquidated, it must be -at a loss, and the idea of a loss was always bitter -to him. During a number of months he was -obliged to renounce certain plans which he had in -view and to remain inactive. A falling lumber -market added to his complications. Prompt to -act when he was convinced of error, he sold out -at last his accumulated stock at a loss, which -would have been much greater had he delayed a -week longer. But he was left almost in the same -position as when he started; the previous profits -had been cut in two. This was wormwood to his -restless soul. It made him moody and cynical at -home, where one child and the near advent of -another foreshadowed increasing expenses. He had -expected by this time to be on the high road to -fortune, and to be imitating the swift progress of -certain individuals in Benham, who even in the -short period since he had been a citizen, had risen -by their superior wits from poverty to affluence -and power. -</p> - -<p> -But Emil's fits of depression were invariably -succeeded by intervals of buoyancy. Though he -still talked bitterly at home of the methods by -which cold-hearted capital squeezed the small man -to the wall and robbed him of his gains, he began -to scheme anew, and to argue that the assets in -his control were still ample for a great success if -shrewdly handled. The lumber market was in -the doldrums, dull and drooping. It began to -look as though some of the industries of Benham -had been developed too rapidly, and as though a -halt, or what financiers call a healthy reaction in -values, were in order. Could it be possible that -all prices in Benham were inflated? The idea -occurred to Emil one day, and he jumped at it -eagerly. It took possession of him. He feverishly -began to examine statistics, and found that -Benham had experienced only one period of -depression since its birth as a city at the close of the -Civil War. It was time for another, and the men -who were clever enough to anticipate it would -reap the reward of their sagacity. What were -the staples of Benham? Oil, pork, and -manufactured iron. These were the industries which -had given the chief impetus to the city's growth, -and were its great source of wealth. Emil -pondered the situation and decided to sell pork short. -If a general shrinkage in values was impending, -the price of pork was certain to decline. He had -hitherto felt so confident of making money in his -own line of business that he had never done more -than cast sheep's eyes at the stock market or the -markets in grain, oil, and pork futures. It had -been his expectation to try ventures of this sort -as soon as his capital was large enough for -important transactions. It was a favorite notion of -his that after he had acquired the first one -hundred thousand dollars, he would be able to -quadruple it in a very short time by bold dealings in -stocks or commodities. He knew now that he had -merely to step into a broker's office and sell pork -in Chicago by wire. It was a simple thing to do -and the shrewd thing, considering his own -business offered no opportunity at the moment for -brilliancy. -</p> - -<p> -To speak to his partner seemed to Emil unnecessary. -He promised himself that after he had -put the firm on its feet again he would deal -generously with Robinson. Since their late reverses -the partnership was not borrowing much money, -so its credit was not exhausted. Emil obtained -from his bank as large a loan as he dared to ask -for, and began to sell pork short on the strength -of the proceeds. It was a process which requires -small capital at the outset. That is, he had simply -to keep his margin good in case the pork which -he sold rose in value. To begin with he sold only -a few hundred barrels, and within a fortnight the -price fell smartly. Not only the price of pork, -but of stocks, grain, and merchandise. Emil -congratulated himself. Evidently he was correct in -his judgment that a period of lower speculative -values was at hand. The proper thing would be -to sell everything and reap a huge fortune before -the dull general public awoke to the truth. His -own limited resources forbade this, which was -irritating. Still, he could go on selling pork short, -and this he continued to do. -</p> - -<p> -The proceeding elated him, for the sudden and -large profit was in a sense a revelation. He -regretted that he had never before tried this method -of demonstrating his business shrewdness. He -felt that it suited him admirably. He would be -no rash-headed fool; he would sell boldly, but -intelligently; he would keep his eye on the general -market, and not cover his shorts until the general -situation changed. If a serious decline in the -prices of everything were in store for Benham—and -the indications of this were multiplying from -week to week—the price of pork might drop out -of sight, so to speak, and he win a fortune as a -consequence. It was the chance of a lifetime. He -reasoned that he would keep cool and make a big -thing of it; that a small fellow would be content -with a few thousands and run to cover, but he -intended to be one of the big fellows. Why take his -profit when the whole financial horizon was -ominous with clouds, and money was becoming -tighter every day? -</p> - -<p> -Emil's reasoning was perfect. The course of -prices was exactly as he had predicted; that is, the -price of everything except pork. The unexpected -happened there, and this from a cause which no -shrewd person could have foreseen. One day -when, in the parlance of trade, the bottom seemed -to be dropping out of all the markets, a despatch -appeared in the newspapers stating that a peculiar -disease had broken out among the hogs in Western -Illinois. The pork market stiffened, but became -flat at the advance after somebody declared -the story to be a canard invented by the bulls to -bolster up their holdings. Emil, adopting this -explanation, and certain that this cunning -stratagem to check the decline would prove unavailing, -sold more pork. -</p> - -<p> -A week later—one Saturday preceding a Monday -which was to be a holiday—there were rumors -in Chicago, just before the close of the Exchange, -that the disease among the hogs was no mere local -manifestation; that it was spreading rapidly, and -had already shown itself in Indiana and Ohio. -Pork in the last fifteen minutes bounded upward -and closed ominously strong. Before the market -opened on the following Tuesday it was definitely -known that the hogs of the country were in the -grasp of an epidemic, the precise character of -which, to quote the press, was not yet determined, -but which, in the opinion of those most competent -to judge, would render the flesh of the animals -attacked by the dread disease unfit for food, and -their lard unwholesome. When the market -opened, the price of pork was so high that Emil's -margin of protection was wiped out as thoroughly -as the tide wipes out the sand dyke which a child -erects upon the beach. He was unable to respond -to the demand made on him for money to keep -his account with his broker good, and was sold out -before night at a loss—a loss which left him in -debt. He went home knowing that he was bankrupt, -and that his firm must fail the moment his -note at the bank became due, even if the broker to -whom he owed five thousand dollars over and -above his margins did not press him. There was -no escape from ruin and humiliation. -</p> - -<p> -He disclosed the truth to Constance with the -repressed bitterness of a Prometheus. He -explained to her with the mien of a wounded animal -at bay the cruelty of the trick of destiny which -had crushed him. How had he been at fault? He -had been shrewd, far-seeing and prompt to act. -The wisdom of his course had been demonstrated -by the fall in prices. He was on the high road to -fortune, and fate had stabbed him in the back. -Could any intelligent man have foreseen that the -hogs of the country would be stricken with -disease? And more galling still, why had luck -played him false by singling out the only possible -combination of events which could have done him -harm? -</p> - -<p> -"An all-wise Providence!" he ejaculated with a -scornful laugh. "A man looks the ground over, -uses his wits and is reaping the benefit of his -intelligence when he is struck in the head with a brick -from behind a hedge, and is then expected to -glorify the hand which smote him. How could it -have been helped? How was I to blame?" he -reiterated with a fierce look at his wife. -</p> - -<p> -Constance could not answer the question. The -details of business were a sealed book to her. The -brief account of the disaster in pork, which he had -just given, was confusing to her, and had left her -with no conviction save pity for her husband. She -was ready to take his word, and to believe that -this overwhelming misfortune was the result of -ill-luck which could not have been guarded against. -What was uppermost in her mind was the impulse -to help and comfort him. It pained her that he -should inveigh against fate, though she recognized -that the provocation was severe. But he needed -her now more than ever. She would be brave and -let him see that her love was at his command. -</p> - -<p> -"You mustn't mind too much, Emil," she said. -"We have to start again, that's all. I can -economize in lots of ways, and we shall manage -somehow, I'm sure. We have the house, you know. -If it's necessary—in order to set you up in -business—we can mortgage that. We've always had -that to fall back on." -</p> - -<p> -She knew as she spoke that from the standpoint -of prudence the offer of the house was unwise. If -that were gone, what would become of her children? -Yet she felt a joy in tendering it. Why -did her husband look at her with that malevolent -gaze as though she had contributed to his distress? -</p> - -<p> -"If you had put a mortgage on the house when -I first started in business, and had given me the -benefit of a larger capital, then we shouldn't be -where we are to-day. I wanted it at the time, but -you didn't offer it." -</p> - -<p> -"Oh, Emil. I never dreamt that you wished it. -To mortgage our home then would have been rash, -surely. Besides, if I had given it to you, wouldn't -it have been lost with the rest now?" -</p> - -<p> -"Don't you understand," he said, roughly, "that -if I had not been hampered at the start by my -small capital, I should never have been forced to -go outside the lumber business in order to support -my family? Another five thousand dollars would -have made all the difference." -</p> - -<p> -His glowering look seemed to suggest that he -had persuaded himself that she was partly to blame -for what had happened. Constance was ready to -make every allowance for him, but his mood -offered fresh evidence of the crankiness of his -disposition, a revelation to which her devotion could -not altogether blind her. -</p> - -<p> -"I don't understand anything about the business -part," she answered, putting her arm around his -neck. "Oh, Emil, Emil, I'm so sorry for you! I -wish to do everything I can to help you and show -my love for you. This is a dreadful sorrow for -you to bear—for us both to bear. But it has come -to us, and we mustn't be discouraged. God will -give us strength to bear it if we let him." -</p> - -<p> -"God?" he blurted. "You may leave God out -of the question so far as I am concerned." -</p> - -<p> -"Oh, Emil, it grieves me to hear you talk like -that." -</p> - -<p> -"And it grieves me that you should aggravate -my trouble by cant which I thought you had outgrown." -</p> - -<p> -"I shall never outgrow that," she murmured, -appreciating suddenly that the substitute which he -offered her for spiritual resignation was a cell -bounded by four stone walls. She had reached -the limit of her apostacy, and she shrank -irrevocably from the final step. -</p> - -<p> -"Of course the rich and the powerful and the -fortunate," he was saying, "encourage the delusion -that if a man's knocked out as I am he ought to -believe it's for the best, because rubbish of that -sort keeps together the social system on which they -fatten. Do the poor in the tenements in Smith -Street over there," he asked with a wave of his -hand, "believe it's for the best that they should go -hungry and in rags while Carleton Howard and -his peers imitate Antony and Cleopatra? Ask the -operatives in the factories across the river what -they think of the justice of the millionaire's God? -The time has passed when you can fool the -self-respecting workingman with a basket of coals and -a tract on the kingdom of heaven. They may have -their heaven, if they'll give us a fair share of this -earth." Emil folded his arms as one issuing an -ultimatum. -</p> - -<p> -Constance realized that he was in no mood to -be reasoned with. She had made clear that she -could not subscribe to his doctrine of despair, and -save in that respect she was eager to be sympathetic. -She could not deny the inequalities and -apparent injustice of civilization, and Emil's plea -that he had been crushed by an accident which he -could not have avoided not only wrung her heart, -but filled it with a sense of hostility to an industrial -system which permitted its deserving members to -be crushed without fault of their own. But she -felt instinctively that the best sort of succor which -she could bring was of the practical kind. -To-morrow was before them, God or no God, and -they must adjust themselves to their altered -circumstances, take thought and build their hopes -anew. -</p> - -<p> -She put her arm around his neck again and -kissed him silently. Then she began with quiet -briskness to make preparations for the evening -meal. It was the maid's afternoon out, and -Constance moved as though she were glorying in the -occupation. Presently she said: -</p> - -<p> -"Of course I'll dismiss Sophy to-morrow. I am -proud to be a workingman's wife, Emil. We'll -soon be on our feet again, never fear." -</p> - -<p> -The suggestion of the servant's dismissal -deepened the gloom on Emil's face. "I've half a -mind to pull up stakes and move to New York," -he muttered. -</p> - -<p> -"And give up our home?" -</p> - -<p> -He frowned at the involuntary concern in her -voice. "What use is a home in a place where a -man is cramped and circumvented in every big -thing he attempts? I ought to have moved long -ago." -</p> - -<p> -"I am ready to live wherever you think best, -Emil. And you mustn't forget, dear, that my trust -and faith in you are as great as ever." -</p> - -<p> -Despondent as he was, his habit of buoyancy -was already groping for some clue to a brighter -vision, to which his wife's words of encouragement -now helped him. He was sitting with his elbows -resting on the table and his head clasped between -his hands. "I'll make a fresh start—here," he -said. "They've got me down, but, damn them, -I'll show them that they can't keep me there." -</p> - -<p> -Presently he arose, and walking out to the -kitchen reappeared with a goblet and two bottles -of beer. One of these he uncorked and poured the -contents ostentatiously so that the froth gathered. -Raising the glass he buried his mouth in the beer -and eagerly drank it off. He set down the goblet -with a sigh of satisfaction. -</p> - -<p> -"And what's more," he said, "they can't deprive -me of that." -</p> - -<p> -Constance watched him with a troubled look. -She shrank at this time of his distress from intimating -that she regarded the indulgence of this appetite -as a poor sort of solace. Besides, a glass of -beer was in itself nothing, and he might well take -offence at her solicitude as an invasion of his -reasonable comfort. Yet observation had taught her -that he was becoming more and more fond of -seeking a respite from care in liberal potations of -this sort. -</p> - -<p> -She restrained her inclination to interfere, but -she saw him with concern consume four bottles -in the course of the evening. The serenity of -temper which this produced—the almost indifferent -calm following the storm—was by no means -encouraging. To be sure his ugly side seemed -entirely in abeyance. Indeed, he took down his -fiddle and played on it seductively until he went -to bed, as though there were no such things as -business troubles. But somehow the very mildness -of his mood, gratifying as it was to her from -the momentary personal standpoint, disturbed her. -Was this good nature the manly, Christian -resignation of the victim of misfortune putting aside -his grief until the morrow? It suggested to her -rather the relaxation of a baffled soul exchanging -ambition for a nepenthe of forgetfulness—a fuddled -agitator's paradise—and her heart was wrung with dread. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap05"></a></p> - -<h3> -V -</h3> - -<p> -The firm of Stuart & Robinson, lumber -dealers, was hopelessly insolvent and did not -attempt to resume business. The partners -separated with sentiments of mutual disdain. To the -junior—the dummy—the failure had come as a -cruel surprise. He refused to regard Emil's -conduct as reasonable or honorable, despite the -assurance that the speculation in pork had been for -their common benefit, and that, but for an -untoward accident, the result would have been a -fortune for the firm. On the other hand, Emil -expressed scorn for a nature so pusillanimous that -it saw only the outcome and failed utterly to -appreciate the brilliancy of his undertaking. As Emil -explained to his wife, the decision of the partners -in regard to the future was typical of their -respective dispositions; Robinson, having lost his -money, was soliciting a clerkship—a return to -servitude; whereas Emil intended to strike out for -himself again. -</p> - -<p> -In what field of energy were his talents to be -exercised next? This was for Emil the first and -most important consideration. His new employment -must be of a kind which would provide him -with bread and butter until he was on his feet -again, but would not deprive him of scope and -independence. It must be something which would -not require capital. Yet this did not mean that -his talent for speculation was to be neglected, but -merely to be kept in abeyance until he saw just the -opportunity to use to advantage the three thousand -dollars which he promptly raised by a second -mortgage on his wife's house. His failure had -left him more than ever confident of his ability to -achieve success by bold and comprehensive methods. -But in the meantime, while he was spinning -the web of fresh enterprises which were to make -him prosperous, he must support his family somehow. -</p> - -<p> -He concluded to become a newspaper reporter -and writer of articles for the press. This would -provide an immediate income and would not interfere -unduly with other projects. Besides it would -enable him to give public expression to some of -his opinions, which would be an ęsthetic -satisfaction. He also engaged desk-room in an office -shared by four men independent of one another -and interchangeably petty lawyers, traders and -dealers in mortgages and land. On the glass door -one read "Real Estate and -Mortgages—Investments—Collections—Loans—Notary -Public." Below were the names of the occupants, followed -by the titles of several wildcat companies, the -dregs of oil and mining ventures in the -neighborhood of Benham, of which one of them was the -promoter and treasurer. It seemed to Emil a -location where he, hampered by circumstances -from jostling elbows with men of means, might -use his wits profitably until he could see his way -to more imposing quarters. Here he would be -unobserved and yet not wholly out of touch with -what was going on. On the same floor of the -building, which was a hive of small concerns, there -was a broker's office which had a wire to Chicago -and knowing correspondents in New York. That -it was described as a "bucket shop" by more -prosperous banking firms prejudiced Emil in its favor; -he ascribed the stigma to capitalistic envy and -social ostracism. He became friendly with the -proprietor, discussed with him the merits of the -wares on his counter, and presently, acting on -"tips" obtained from this source, captured on -several occasions sums ranging from ten to fifty -dollars by the purchase of ten shares of stock or an -equivalent amount of grain, requiring an advance -on his own part of not more than three per cent. of -the purchase price—a mere bagatelle. This as -a beginning was satisfactory. It eked out his -journalistic income; and the skill with which he -plied the process, contrasted with the folly -displayed by most of the customers, flattered the faith -which he had in his sound judgment. This -broker's shop was the resort of scores of people -of small means, trades-folk, clerks, salaried -dependents and some women, keen to acquire from -the fluctuations of the speculative markets a few -crumbs of the huge gains garnered by the magnates -of Wall Street, of which they read emulously -in the newspapers. To put up one's thirty dollars, -and to have one's margin of venture or profit -wiped out within twenty-four hours, was the normal -experience, sooner or later, of ninety per -cent. of these unfortunates. The remainder were -shrewder and longer lived, and to this remnant -Emil indisputably belonged. -</p> - -<p> -He obtained a position on the <i>Star</i>, a sensational, -popular one-cent paper. The <i>Star</i> was read -both by the workingmen in the manufacturing -plants, of whose interests it was a zealous -champion, and by a large class of business men and -trades-people, who found its crisp paragraphs and -exaggerated, inaccurate reports of current horrors -and scandals an agreeable form of excitement. -Emil's employment was to make the round of the -dealers in grain, lumber, wool and other staples -and report trade prices and gossip, which under -the control of the financial editor he was allowed -to expand into commercial prognostications or -advice. To the Sunday edition he began to -contribute special articles exploiting the grievances of -the proletariat, which the management of the <i>Star</i> -accepted and presently invited as a weekly feature. -They were written with a sardonic acerbity of -touch, which afforded him an outlet for his -disgruntled frame of mind and free scope for his -favorite theories. He also renewed his -attendance at the Socialistic Club which he had -frequented before his marriage, and became one of -the orators there. It occurred to him that a -political office would be acceptable while he was -husbanding his resources. Why not become alderman -on the workingman's ticket? There was a salary -of five hundred dollars attached, and as a city -father he would have opportunities to know what -was going on in municipal affairs, and to get an -inkling of some of the big schemes projected by -capitalists, for the furtherance of which his vote -would be required. He would be able also—and -this was an exhilarating consideration—to hold -the whip-hand over the arrogant moneyed men -seeking franchises for next to nothing, by which to -extort millions from the guileless common people. -While Emil, with recovered buoyancy, readjusted -his plans to meet his circumstances and set -his wits to work, his wife met the necessity of -strict economy with absorbed devotion. She -signed the mortgage with a pang, but without -hesitancy. She appreciated the necessity of the -contribution. Without ready money Emil would -be powerless—must become a mere clerk or -subordinate, and his ambition would be crushed. She -would have preferred perhaps that he should -resign himself to the situation, and without -imperilling their home, support his family on a modest -footing by a salary or by the journalistic work -for which he had an aptitude. But she recognized -that his heart was set on independent success on a -large scale, and that Emil thwarted or repressed -would become an irritable and despondent malcontent. -His shrewdness had nearly gained him a -fortune, and apparently a cruel freak of chance -had been solely responsible for his discomfiture. -She did not pretend to criticise the nature of his -business dealings. He had explained to her that -capital was indispensable to the realization of his -aims. She must trust him. She did suggest that -he should use the proceeds of the mortgage for -the payment of his debts. The thought of doing -so was bitter, and she was thankful when Emil -assured her with a protesting scoff that such a -proceeding would be Utopian. "What," he asked, -"was the sense of insolvent laws, if, when a man -failed in business, his wife was to cast her little -all, her own patrimony, into the common pot for -the enrichment of his creditors? Business people -understood that they were taking business chances, -and did not expect to gobble up the home of a -wife bought with her own genuine means. If she -were rich, generosity might be honesty, but in the -present instance, it would be sentimental folly." This -was convincing to Constance, for she felt -instinctively that her children must have rights as -well as the creditors. A woman's whimsical -conception of business honor might well be at fault. -She had made her offer, and she was glad to abide -by her husband's superior knowledge. -</p> - -<p> -Her duty obviously was to reduce the scale of -family living without interfering with Emil's -reasonable comfort or wounding his self-respect. She -gave herself up to her work of domestic economy -with fresh zeal, doing the manual labor of the -household with enthusiasm. By steady industry -and thoughtful care, she was able not only to -minimize expenses, but to produce presentable -results from a small outlay. Her heart was in it; -for was not Emil at work again and hopeful? She -was proud of his newspaper articles and regarded -his small gains from shrewd speculations as new -proof of his capacity for financial undertakings. -</p> - -<p> -The end of a year found Emil rather more than -holding his own pecuniarily. He had obtained -commissions as a broker from the successful -negotiation of a few small real-estate transactions, -his ventures on a cautious scale in the stock market -had been almost invariably fortunate, and his -earnings as a newspaper writer had been sufficient -with these accretions to cover his household -expenses, pay the interest on the mortgage, and add -slightly to his capital. He felt that he was on his -feet again, and was correspondingly bumptious; -yet he realized that his recuperation regarded as -progress was a snail's pace, which must be greatly -accelerated if he would attain wealth and -importance. In this connection the idea of -becoming an alderman kept recurring to him with -increasing attraction. At present he was nobody. -His name was unfamiliar and his position obscure. -This irritated him, for he craved recognition and -publicity. To be sure, while capital was at his -disposal, he had seen fit to address his efforts -solely to the accumulation of a fortune as the -passport to power, but even then he had been at heart -a sworn enemy of the moneyed class. And now -that he had resumed his old associations, his -theories had developed fresh vitality and aroused in -him the desire to vindicate them by action. Since -fate had condemned him to attain financial -prominence slowly, why should he not secure -recognition in the best way he could? As an alderman -he would be a local power, and once in the arena -of politics and given the opportunity to make -himself felt, why might he not aspire to political -prosperity? -</p> - -<p> -He proceeded to seek the nomination. But he -found that there were other aspirants, and that he -must be stirring. In Benham the district system -of election was in vogue. That is, the city was -divided into municipal districts, and each district -chose its own alderman. In that where Emil lived -the workingman's candidate, so called, was almost -invariably successful against the representative of -the more conservative element of the two wards -concerned, and a nomination was regarded as -equivalent to election. Now there were two -factions of voters belonging to the dominant party -in the district, one in each ward, and for three -successive years the alderman had come from the -ward other than that in which Emil dwelt. This -was a plausible argument why the next candidate -should be selected from his ward. The faction -which Emil hoped to represent contained a -considerable number of Germans with socialistic -affiliations, and it was agreed by a conference of -the rival cliques on the eve of the canvass that -their turn had come to nominate a candidate. -This was fortunate for Emil, as some of the -members of the social debating club to which he -belonged were of this body. He had already been -prominent at the meetings of the club, prompt and -aggressive in the expression of his opinions on his -feet, and prone to linger over his beer until late -at night agitating the grievances of the under dogs -of industrial competition. The suggestion of his -name, backed by a vote of his associates, received -respectful consideration from the political -managers, and he at once became a prominent -candidate. The last three aldermen from the district -had been of Irish extraction, and he was an -American. His grandfather on his mother's side had -been a German; hence his name Emil. He was -an undoubted advocate of the rights of the laboring -class, and a foe of capitalistic jobbing. These -were signal points in his favor. But the victory -would remain to the aspirant who could obtain a -majority of the delegates to the aldermanic -convention, and the battle would be fought out at the -preliminary caucus where the delegates were -chosen by the voters of the two wards. Accordingly -the contest became a house-to-house canvass -of the district by the respective candidates, each of -whom had an organization and lieutenants. There -was speech-making at halls hired for the occasion, -and some treating incident to these rallies. Poster -pictures of the candidates were requisite for use -in saloons and on bill-boards. All this demanded -expenditure. Emil realized presently that, if he -wished to succeed, he could not be niggardly with -his money. Men would not work for nothing, -and spontaneous enthusiasm was only to be had for -remuneration. He drew upon his funds, exhausting -the little he had saved the previous year, and -trenching slightly on the mortgage money. He -hoped to win. The contest practically was -between him and a German beer manufacturer, who -happened also to be the president of a small bank. -The third candidate was already out of the -running. Emil in his capacity as tribune of the -people made the most of his opponent's connection -with the moneyed interests. His satire on this -score offset the advantage which his rival received -from his trade as a brewer, and turned the scale. -On the night of the caucus, the voting booths were -crowded to repletion. A stream of excited citizens -struggled to the rail to deposit their ballots. -There was imprecation and several resorts to -fisticuffs. Not until after midnight was the result -known. Emil won by a liberal margin in both -wards, and his nomination was assured. He was -escorted home jubilant and beery by a detachment -of his followers, whose cat-calls of triumph thrilled -the listening ears of Constance. She met him at -the door, and when he was safely inside she threw -her arms about his neck and exclaimed, "Oh, Emil. -I'm so glad!" -</p> - -<p> -His small dark eyes were scintillating, his hair -stood up from his brow like a bird's crest, the curl -of his short mustache, odorous of malt, bristled -awry, his speech was thick. -</p> - -<p> -"Didn't I tell you they couldn't keep me down? -I shall get now where I belong," he exclaimed as -he strode into the sitting-room and dropped into -a chair with the air of a fuddled but victorious -field-marshal. -</p> - -<p> -Constance recognized that he was exhilarated -by drink. The associations of the last few weeks -had awakened in her vague doubts as to the sort -of influence which the career of an alderman was -likely to exercise upon him. But she shrank from -harboring criticism. She yearned to be happy, and -her happiness was to see her husband successful -and prosperous. So she put away the consciousness -that his breath was tainted, his manner boastful -and jarring, and gave herself up to the joy -which sprang from beholding him a self-satisfied -victor. -</p> - -<p> -Emil's self-satisfaction was short lived. It -chanced that some of the wealthy citizens of -Benham were interested in the establishment of an -electric street-car system for the city and its -suburbs, and were laying their wires to secure the -co-operation of the Board of Aldermen. The -project had been kept concealed, and not until the -campaign for the city election was well under way -were the machinations of those interested -apparent. First as an underground rumor, then as a -well-credited report from diverse sources, the news -reached Emil that the nominee of the other party -had the backing of a powerful syndicate. The -true explanation of this mystery followed, and -with it the statement that Emil's radical utterances -had drawn upon his head the ire of the capitalists -with a mission, who were giving their moral and -financial support in every district to the one of the -two candidates best suited to their necessities -regardless of party. In place of the walk-over he -had expected, Emil found himself in the midst of -a contest of the fiercest description. He was -furious, and his exultation was turned to gall. -Why had he not discovered the street-car company -projects in advance and made friends with the -promoters? This was his first and secret reflection, -which added rancor to his public declaration -that he would bury at the polls the candidate of -these plunderers. But how? Where were his -funds to come from? There had been plenty of -offers of ready money when it was supposed that -his election was assured. But now the tone of his -supporters was less confident, and ugly rumors -reached him of defections among the Irish in the -other ward. He was in the fight to stay. So he -declared on the stump and in his home. He could -not afford to be defeated. It was a case of hit or -miss, win or lose. Maddened, desperate, and -excited, he threw prudence to the winds and -scattered dollars freely for proselytizing expenses -until the morning of the election. Each side -claimed the victory until the polls were closed. -The result was close—a matter of one hundred and -fifty ballots—but Emil proved to be the loser, and -at a cost of over three thousand dollars. The -fund which he had borrowed from his wife was -exhausted, and he had incurred, besides, a batch -of unpaid bills for refreshments, carriages, and -other incidental expenses. -</p> - -<p> -He awoke at dawn from a nap at a table in a -saloon from which the last of his followers had -slipped away. Slouching into his kitchen, where -his wife was kindling the fire, he tossed his hat on -the table and said with a malignant sneer: -</p> - -<p> -"The jig's up." -</p> - -<p> -Constance was pale. She had been watching -for him all night, and had heard from a neighbor -the dismal result. Her heart was wrung with pity -and distress, but she perceived that it was no time -for consolatory words. She busied herself in -preparing a cup of coffee, which presently she placed -before him, stooping as she did so to kiss him -softly on the forehead. He was sitting by the -table with his legs thrust out and his hands sunk -in his trousers pockets, chewing an unlighted cigar, -one of those left from the supply he had bought -for political hospitality. His wife's action seemed -to remind him of her presence. He looked up at -her viciously, showing the white of his eye like a -surly dog. -</p> - -<p> -"What do you want?" -</p> - -<p> -"Your coffee, Emil." -</p> - -<p> -He glared at the smoking cup, then with a -sweep of his arm dashed it away: -</p> - -<p> -"To hell with you and your messes, you—you fool!" -</p> - -<p> -The crash of the crockery was followed by -silence. It seemed to Constance that she had been -struck by a bullet, so confounding were his words. -Her husband address her like that? What did it -mean? -</p> - -<p> -"Emil," she gasped—"you are ill!" -</p> - -<p> -"Not ill, but tired of you." -</p> - -<p> -"Of me? Your wife? What have I done?" -</p> - -<p> -"Why didn't you consent to move to New York -when I wished to go?" he snapped. "If you had, -I wouldn't be in this fix, sold out by a pack of -filthy Hibernian cut-throats." -</p> - -<p> -"I was ready to go if you wished it, Emil. We -will go now—if only you do not speak to me so -unkindly." -</p> - -<p> -"It's too late," he replied with a sneer. "What -use would it be, anyway? We look at everything -differently. We always have." -</p> - -<p> -"You do not realize what you are saying. You -do not know what you are saying." -</p> - -<p> -"Crazy, am I? The best thing for you to do -is to ask some of your church philanthropists to -supply you with laundry work. You're likely to -need it. The jig's up, I tell you. We haven't a -dollar left." -</p> - -<p> -"Very well." -</p> - -<p> -"The mortgage money with the rest." He -threw the chewed cigar on the floor and ground it -with his foot. -</p> - -<p> -"Very well. I can bear anything except that -you should speak to me so cruelly. Have I -been afraid of work? Whatever has happened -we mustn't forget the children, Emil. We -must keep up our courage on their account at -least." -</p> - -<p> -He scowled at the reference. "I'll look out for -the children. Is there any beer in the house?" -</p> - -<p> -"No." Then after a moment's hesitation she -added, "May I ask you something, Emil? Won't -you give up beer? It is hurting your life. I am -sure of it. I have felt so for some time, and you -have known that I have hated your fondness for -it. Give it up altogether and—and we will go to -New York or anywhere you wish and make a fresh -start." -</p> - -<p> -In her dismay at his brutality she was eager and -thankful to throw the responsibility for his -conduct on his propensity for drink. She felt the -obligation to speak fearlessly on this score, even -though she irritated him. Her gentle remonstrances -had been of no avail, and she must struggle -with him now against himself or lose him -altogether. -</p> - -<p> -Emil heard her appeal with a deepening scowl. -For a moment it seemed as though he were about -to strike her. Then, as what he evidently -considered the audacity of her expostulation worked on -his mind, self-pity was mingled with his anger. -</p> - -<p> -"You'd deprive me of my beer, would you? -The only solace I've got. Why don't you go -smash my fiddle, too? That's the way with you -pious women; a man gets down on his luck and -you stop his comforts and drive him into the -street. Very well, then, if I can't get beer in this -house, little saint, there's lots of places I can. This -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap06"></a></p> - -<h3> -VI -</h3> - -<p> -Constance did not see her husband again -for twenty-four hours. He returned at -supper-time and took his place at the table -without a word of apology or explanation. He was -in a state of great depression, morose and -uncommunicative. On previous occasions when -misfortune had befallen him, he had taken his wife into -his confidence, but now it seemed either that he -had lost his grip on life so completely that words -failed him, or that the resentment which he had -expressed toward her was still dominant. When -the meal was over, he went out and did not return -until late. He was boozy with drink, and threw -himself on his bed with the air of a man who -would fain dispel consciousness by the luxury of -sleep. -</p> - -<p> -Emil's mode of life for the next few weeks -was substantially a repetition of this programme. -Glum, sour, and listless he went his way in the -morning; fuddled, indifferent, and sleepy he -returned at night. Concerning his circumstances -and plans he said nothing to Constance. She was -left totally in the dark as to the extent and the -effect of his reverses. He had told her that they -were ruined, yet he continued to go down-town as -though nothing had happened. Trusting that he -would enlighten her of his own accord, at first she -asked no questions. Then as he did not speak, -she requested him one morning to tell her how his -affairs stood, urging her solicitude and affection. -He listened frowningly and put her off with the -disconcerting utterance "You'll know soon enough. -It's just as well to let a drowning man grasp at -straws while there are any to grasp at." -</p> - -<p> -His half-scornful, half-desperate manner forbade -further inquiry at the moment if she did not -wish to widen the breach between them. Constance -was in deep distress. She yearned to comfort -and help him, but this wifely, loving impulse -was haunted by the consciousness now forced upon -her with painful clearness that she had misjudged -his nature and was mated to a crank. How otherwise -could she interpret his hostile attitude toward -herself? To what but a cross-grained perversity -of soul could she ascribe his disposition to blame -her for his misfortunes? Her duty was plain, to -make the best of the situation, and to ignore, so -far as self-respect would permit, his laceration of -her feelings, trusting to time to restore his sense -of justice and renew concord between them. But -what hope was there for the future? Hope for -the realization of that blissful, ennobling married -state to which she had looked forward as a bride -and had believed in store for her? Here was the -thought which tormented her and gave poignancy -to the dismay and anxiety of the moment. Even -if their immediate circumstances were less serious -than Emil had declared, was there any reason to -believe that his next experiment would be more -successful? She had accepted hitherto without -question his declaration that ill-luck had been -responsible for all his troubles, but that consolation -was hers no longer. She found herself listening to -the voice of criticism to which until now she had -turned a deaf ear. In a new spirit, without -bitterness, but in the assertion of her right as a wife -to judge the man to whom she had committed her -happiness, she recalled the incidents of their -married life—his theories, arguments, and point of -view. He had declared her to blame for his -misfortunes. Surely if she had failed in her duty it -had not been toward him. She had sacrificed her -opinions to his, and for his sake abnegated her -most precious predilections in order to make the -union of their lives sweeter and more complete. If -she were guilty, was it not of treason to her own -instincts and her own conscience? -</p> - -<p> -Emil indeed had persuaded himself not merely -that fortune had betrayed him, and the hand of -the prosperous world was against him, but that -his wife was partly to blame for it. Looking back -on his last fiasco, he conjured up the circumstance -that she had not fallen in with his suggestion of -an exodus to New York, and this he had promptly -distorted into a grievance, which grew the more -he nursed it. To the notion that she had thwarted -him in everything and that their relations as -husband and wife had been wholly unsympathetic -was only another step. It suited him to feel that -he was the injured party, for he was face to face -with the responsibility of supporting his family, -which must be met or avoided. The question of -immediate funds was already pressing. His last -reverse had discouraged and angered him, but it -had not diminished his confidence that he would -succeed in the right place. It had only convinced -him that Benham was not the right place; that -Benham was too small and provincial; too -unappreciative of real ability. He was unpleasantly -in debt, but the bills which he had contracted for -political expenses could be disregarded for the -present. He had no property with which to meet -them, and if he were pressed, he had merely to go -into insolvency in order to rid himself of them -altogether. Nor need he worry about the -mortgage for the present. It would not be due for -two years, and, provided the interest were paid, -they could not be molested. These redeeming -features of his plight were clear to him after the -first days of mental agitation, but his spirit did -not reassert its wonted elasticity. Analyzing the -cause, he perceived that his whole surroundings -were repugnant to him, and that he shrank from -recommencing life at the foot of the ladder under -the conditions in which he found himself. He -was determined to leave Benham, and he was -determined that his family, if they came with him, -should toe the mark. What this phrase meant -precisely he did not formulate, but it suited his -mood. "Toe the mark." He kept repeating it -to himself, as though it promised relief from -domestic insubordination. Yes, if his wife did not -choose to adopt his theories and abet him in his -undertakings, she could go her own way for all -he cared. It was only on account of the children -that he did not put an end to their contract of -marriage to-morrow by leaving her. Except for them -it were surely folly for a man and woman whose -ideas were utterly at variance to continue a -partnership the only fruit of which could be discord -and recriminations. So he argued, and it was only -the thought of his children which restrained him -from precipitate action and caused him to -continue to go down-town every day seeking a bare -livelihood. Since the night of his defeat at the -polls, Constance had not asked him for money. -Presumably she had some laid by, and was living -on that, but by the first of the month she must -have recourse to him or starve, and then would be -the time for his ultimatum. The terms of this, -beyond a declaration of general discontent, were -still hazy in his brain, befogged by malt liquor -and inflamed by hatred of the world, but a glowing -conviction that their marriage had been a failure -through her fault was a satisfactory substitute -for definiteness. Brooding like a spider in its web, -secretive, hoping that something would turn up to -put him on his feet again, yet almost reckless in -his attitude, and drinking assiduously, he drifted -on without aim. His evenings were spent at his -workingmen's club, where he continued as an outlet -to his feelings to deliver virulent philippics, -which he realized as he uttered them were a sorry -equivalent for personal success. -</p> - -<p> -While thus limp and embittered, a final mishap -impelled Emil to action. It happened that the -broker on the same floor as the office where he -had desk-room, and with whom he was on familiar -terms, let him in for a disastrous tip and put the -screws on when the market went the other way. -The sum involved was three hundred dollars, the -total residue of Emil's capital, which he had -allowed to remain untouched with this false friend -in order not to be entirely without the means to -speculate. The advice offered had seemed to be -friendly and disinterested. When the result proved -disastrous the victim promptly suspected guile. -Certainly he encountered a flinty demeanor, as -though the proprietor of the "bucket-shop" were -cognizant of the impecuniosity of his customer -and had decided to squeeze him dry and break -with him. This from the man whose social status -on the street he had championed seemed to Emil -rank ingratitude. Yet the broker was making no -more than ordinary business demands upon him. -His margin was exhausted, and the transaction -would be closed unless he supplied additional -security. This was business-like, but not friendly, as -it seemed to Emil, especially as the ingrate, who -had been so confident of the value of the tip, chose -now to be sphinx-like as to what the next day's -price of the stock would be. All he would vouchsafe -was that it would go up sooner or later. -</p> - -<p> -Since it was necessary to act at once, and to sell -meant the loss of the remnant of his capital, Emil -concluded to give himself a chance by making use -of five hundred dollars which had just been paid -over to him for a client in redemption of a -mortgage. He argued that the stock, having fallen in -price contrary to expectation, was not likely to -decline further at once, and that if he protected -his account, he would be able to make inquiries -and form a more intelligent opinion by the end -of a few days as to what he had best do. Besides, -there was lurking in his mind the bitter argument, -which he chose to believe sound, that the world -owed every man a living, and assuredly owed it -to a man like himself. Since the hand of society -seemed to be against him, why should he not take -advantage of the resources at his disposal and save -himself? He was simply borrowing; if he were -not able to return the money at once, he would do -so later with interest. The consequences of this -performance were disastrous. As Emil had predicted, -the stock in question remained stationary -for three days, but by the end of them he felt no -clearer regarding which course to pursue. Estimates -as to its value were contradictory; yet since -a sale at the market price meant the safety of the -five hundred dollars at the cost of his own financial -obliteration, he remained hopeful. On the fourth -day the stock broke sharply, and again on the day -after. His holding was only one hundred shares—a -paltry transaction from a capitalistic point of -view—yet it was rashness for him. Adversity -and his pressing needs had tempted him to -disregard his meditated prudence and to venture on -thin ice. He perceived himself ruined and a -defaulter. The obliquity of his peculation was -mitigated in his mind by the conviction that -fortune had been signally cruel to him. As for the -borrowed money, he would give his note and pay -it presently when he was on his feet again. Yet -he appreciated that his opportunities for making -a living in Benham were at an end, and that if he -remained, he might find difficulty in inducing the -owner of the five hundred dollars to accept him -as a creditor without demur. Clearly the simplest -course was to come to terms by post. To shake -the dust of Benham from his feet was his dearest -wish, and the time had arrived for its fulfilment. -There was still one hundred dollars belonging to -his client in his hands which he had not used. -This he drew to provide himself with travelling -expenses, arguing that the sooner he were able to -reach New York, the quicker the loan would be -repaid, and slipped from the city without a word -to anyone. He had decided to cut adrift from all -his past associations, and an indispensable portion -of his plan was to sever forever his relations with -his wife. -</p> - -<p> -A week later he wrote this letter to her from -New York: -</p> - - -<p class="letter"> -Constance: -</p> - -<p class="letter"> -This is to let you know what has become of me. You may -have guessed the truth, but it's woman's way to worry, weep, -and raise a hue and cry, though she knows in her heart that she's -mismated, and that it would be a godsend to her if "hubby" -had really blown his brains out or were safely at the bottom of -a well. I'm not dead yet, nor am I contemplating suicide at -present. Though if the time ever does come when I think the -game is played out, it will be one-two-three-go! without any -pause between the numbers. But I'm as good as dead now, so -far as you are concerned. You won't be troubled by me further. -You've seen the last of me. I told you I was strapped. I'm -cleaned out to the last dollar. But that doesn't phaze me except -for the moment. I'm going to make a fresh start and a clean -sweep at the same time. You know as well as I that our marriage -has not been a glittering success. In short, we've made a -mess of it. We thought we were suited to each other, and we -find we're not. That's all. I don't approve of you any more -than you do of me, and what's the use of making each other -miserable by protracting the relation until death do us part? It's -up to me to undo the Gordian-knot, and I've cut it. -</p> - -<p class="letter"> -You'll shed some tears, I suppose, over the situation, and -your friends will call me a brute. But when the shock is past -and sentimental considerations have evaporated, just ask yourself -if I'm not doing the sensible thing for us both. We don't look -at life in the same way and never will. I'm a radical, and -you're a conservative, and we were misled before marriage by -the affinities of flesh to suppose that oil and water would -harmonize. From the point of view of law I'm the offending party, -and you'll be a free woman to sue for divorce on the ground of -desertion, by the end of three years. In the meantime, you -can go back to your kindergarten work or whatever you see fit. -You have your health, and your philanthropic church friends -will enable you to support yourself. -</p> - -<p class="letter"> -The only hitch is the children. If you had been ready to -follow me to New York when I first suggested it, we might not -be separating now. I expect and am anxious to provide for -them. If you will send them on to me, they shall want for -nothing. But if you are bent on keeping them, as I foresee -may be the case, the responsibility is yours. I should like one -at least—preferably the boy. If you insist on keeping them -both, I can't help myself. There's where you have the whip-hand -over me. But don't delude yourself with the notion that -I don't love my own flesh and blood because I'm not willing to -live with their mother. -</p> - -<p class="letter"> -There will be no use in your coming on here or trying to -find me. I have made up my mind. We could never be happy -together, so the fewer words said about parting the better. Send -your answer regarding the children to the New York post-office. -I shall expect it for a week. The money you loaned me is gone -with the rest, but they can't turn you out of your house until -the mortgage is due, if you pay the interest. Some day I shall -pay it back to you. I wish you well, and consider I'm doing -us both a service in cutting loose from you. -</p> - -<p class="letter"> -Good-by, EMIL. -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -It seemed to Constance when she had finished -this letter as though her heart would stop. Was -this reality? Could it be that her husband was -abandoning her and her children in cold blood, -treating the sacred ties of marriage as lightly as -though they were straws? Alas! his cruel words -stared her in the face, freezing her soul, which had -been sick for days over his unexplained absence; -sick from dread. Yes, she had guessed; but she -had put the horror from her as impossible, despite -his hints. Unbalanced and embittered as he was, -he could not be so unkind. Now she was face to -face with certainty; there was no room for hope. -It was true; so cruelly inhumanly true that her -brain felt dazed and numb. She gazed at his -writing stony-eyed and appalled, limp with dismay and -forlornness. To avoid falling she put out her -hand to the table, and the contact of her own flesh -served to readjust her consciousness. Seating -herself she swept her fingers across her brow to rally -her senses, and read the letter again slowly. Then -mortification succeeded dismay, and resentment -followed close on mortification. The wounded -pride of the wife, the indignation of the mother -protesting for her children asserted themselves, -causing her to flush to the roots of her hair and her -pulses to tingle. Coward! Unnatural father! -What had she done to deserve this? What had -they done, helpless innocents? Give them up to -him? Her children, now the only joy of her life? -Never. They could not both have them. Why -should he who had left them in the lurch have -either? She could hear their prattle in the -adjoining room, poor little souls, unconscious of their -misery. Then her sense of wounded pride and her -anger were forgotten in the agony of a possible -separation from her offspring, and in the loss of -her husband's love, and her tense nerves gave way. -"Oh, Emil, my husband, how could you?" she -moaned, and burying her face in her hands she let -sorrow have full sway. -</p> - -<p class="capcenter"> -<a id="img-080"></a> -<img class="imgcenter" src="images/img-080.jpg" alt=""Oh, Emil, my husband, how could you?" she moaned" /> -<br /> -"Oh, Emil, my husband, how could you?" she moaned -</p> - -<p> -When she had dried her eyes she was prepared -to face the situation and to think more calmly. -Certain points were now clear. Emil was right; -since he had ceased to love her, they could never -be happy together. So far as she could see, she -had not been at fault, though he had persuaded -himself that she was to blame. She would never -have left him; but now that he had deserted her, -she could dare to admit that their souls were not -in accord, and that her love and respect for him -had been waning in spite of herself for many -months. She would not attempt to follow him, -and she desired to retain both the children. Was -it her duty to let Emil have one of them? Here -was the only harassing point in the plans for the -future which she was formulating. Would it be -fair to the children to separate them? Would she -be justified in keeping them both, in view of the -affection which their father had professed for his -own flesh and blood? As Emil had declared, he -and she had made a mess of their marriage, and -they were to separate. Was it fair to him to keep -both the boy and the girl? Ah, but she could not -bear the thought of giving up either. She felt the -need of counsel. To whom could she turn? Who -were her friends? She thought of Mr. Prentiss, -and she remembered her husband's taunt concerning -her philanthropic church friends with a sense -of shrinking. The church offered itself as a refuge -to all in the hour of distress, but it seemed to her -as though she would rather starve than apply to -Mr. Prentiss. Not that she was afraid of starving. -That side of the situation had no terrors for -her. She was almost glad at the idea of supporting -herself and her darlings, and she had entire -confidence in her ability to do so, even though she -were forced to scrub floors. But she yearned for -the sympathy and advice of a friend. How lonely -she had suddenly become in this large, busy city! -Emil had evinced little desire, especially of late, -to make friends in the neighborhood, and she had -been so absorbed in her home and her husband's -interest that she had disregarded her social -opportunities. He had been apt to speak slightingly of -their acquaintances as people whom he would soon -outstrip in the struggle of life. And now she was -the poorest of the poor, the saddest of the sad, one -of the lowly common people for whom her doctor -father's heart had ever cherished fond and -patient sympathy. She was one of them now -herself. How different had been her dreams -and her ambition. To think that she, Constance -Forbes, had come to this—a wife abandoned by -her husband, alone and friendless, with only the -semblance of a roof to shelter her and her -children. But all this was nothing if only she need -not part with either of her babies. She would be -able to support them, never fear, and with them -to support she could be brave, even happy. But -without them? No, no, Emil had forsaken her, -she had lost her faith in him, he was not worthy -of the sacrifice; she dared not trust him; he had -no right to either. She could not, she would not -let either go. -</p> - -<p> -When the morning came she was more firmly of -the same opinion, and she composed this reply to -her husband: -</p> - -<p class="letter"> -Emil: -</p> - -<p class="letter"> -I have your letter and my heart is filled with sorrow. I -cannot compel you to live with me against your will. God knows -I have tried to be a loving, dutiful, and sympathetic wife, but it -seems I have failed to please you. It is true that our ideas of -how to live and what is right are very different. I have been -aware of that in my secret soul, but for your sake I did my best -to adopt your point of view. Now I shall be free to follow my -own. Since you no longer love me, I am not sorry that we are -to live apart, for I can see now that I have suffered much on -your account. But I do not choose to reproach you. What -good would it do? Besides you are the father of my children—poor -little things. I do not think that I should have written to -you at all if it were not for the question what is to become of -them. -</p> - -<p class="letter"> -I am trying to do what is best for them and to be just; just -to you and to myself. I have decided to keep both the children. -They are babies still, and need a mother's love. A father's too, -but it seems they cannot have both. Let God judge between -us, Emil. They are my flesh and blood too, and it is you who -are forsaking us, not we you. As you say, I have my health -and we shall not starve. I am not afraid. There is nothing -more to say, is there? It has all been a dreadful mistake—and -we thought we should be so happy. Good-by. In spite of -everything I shall always think of you kindly. -</p> - -<p class="letter"> -CONSTANCE. -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -Having despatched this she felt as though she -would be glad to die. Life seemed so flat, and her -condition so humiliating. Her love for Emil was -dead; the union of their souls was broken; what -was there to look forward to? Yet she knew that -she must not stop to repine or to indulge in -self-pity. The stern necessity of winning bread for -her children confronted her and must be faced at -once and resolutely. In this she must find happiness -and fresh inspiration. It was her duty to -close the ears and eyes of her soul to the voices and -visions of the past. Hard work would save her -brain from giving way, and hard work only. -What should that work be? What was she to -do? In the first glow of her pride, revolting -at the slight which her husband had put upon -her, the way had seemed easy, but viewed in the -sober light of reality it bristled with difficulties. -Yet now, as she pondered and realized what -failure would mean, her spirit rose to meet them, -and immediate needs forced sorrow to the background. -</p> - -<p> -Where was she to find work? Since the receipt -of her husband's letter everything outside her own -emotions had been a blank to her; her gaze had -been solely introspective. Conscious now of the -need of action and of renewing her contact with -the world, she took up the newspaper, yesterday's -issue of which lay unopened on the table, and -began to examine the page of advertisements for -employment. She must find at once something -which would provide her with ready money. Only -through friends and only after delay could she -hope to obtain a kindergarten position; it would -take time and instruction to learn typewriting; she -was not sufficiently proficient in languages or music -to offer herself as a teacher. She could become a -domestic servant or a shopgirl. In the former case -it would be necessary to board out her children, -to give them to some institution, perhaps, a -prospect which wrung her heart; in the latter she could -be with them at night, but who would look after -and guard them during the day? What did other -women do whose husbands ran away and left -them? The long list of people out of work was -appalling, and few of the opportunities offered -seemed to fit her circumstances. Someone was -seeking employment as a seamstress. She might -take in sewing. This perhaps was the most -feasible suggestion. She was handy at plain sewing, -and a little practice would doubtless render her -skilful. Yes, she would try this, and in order to -obtain a start would solicit work from some of the -neighbors, if needs be. The neighbors? They -did not know as yet of her misfortune—her -disgrace, for it was a disgrace to be forsaken by her -husband. It would be necessary to tell them. -What should she say? Entertaining sadly this -necessity of an avowal, she glanced over the rest -of the newspaper, and came suddenly upon a -paragraph which informed her that her misfortune was -already public. Prefaced by offensive headlines, -"Emil Stuart disappears from Benham! What -has become of Mrs. Morgan's mortgage money?" -the wretched story stood exploited to the world. -Constance read and the cup of her distress and -humiliation overflowed. It needed only this -insinuation of dishonesty to complete her misery. -Her husband an embezzler? Where should she -hide her head? Nor was there comfort in the -reporter's closing effort at euphemism: "One or two -acquaintances of the late candidate for aldermanic -honors, when apprised of his mysterious disappearance, -expressed the belief that his seeming irregularities -would be explained to the satisfaction of -all concerned; but a gentleman, whose name we -are not at liberty to disclose, hazards an opinion, -based on personal observation, that Mr. Stuart has -been premeditating this step for several weeks, and -is a fugitive from justice. The circumstance that -his wife and two children have been left behind -in Benham invites the further inquiry whether he -has also abandoned his family. There are rumors -that Mr. Stuart's domestic relations were not -altogether harmonious." -</p> - -<p> -Constance let the newspaper slip from her -hands. Her cheeks burned with shame. This was -the last straw. Her husband a defaulter, and her -relations with him the subject of common newspaper -gossip. As she stood spell-bound by this -new phase of misfortune the door-bell rang. A -visitor. Who could it be? Some sympathetic or -curious neighbor who had read of her calamities. -Or more probably the writer of the newspaper -article coming to probe into her misery in search -of fresh copy. For a moment she thought that she -would not answer the call, and she waited hoping -that whoever it was would go away. Again the -bell rang, this time sharply. It might be -something important, even a telegram from Emil to -clear himself. Picking up the newspaper she concealed -it hastily, then stepped into the passage and -opened the door slightly. -</p> - -<p> -"May I come in?" asked a strong, friendly voice. -</p> - -<p> -"Oh yes, Mr. Prentiss; excuse me," she faltered. -She had recognized at once who her visitor was, -but so many bewildering things had happened that -she stood for a moment irresolute, refusing to -credit her own senses. As she opened wide the -door, the clergyman strode in fearlessly as though -he realized that the situation must be carried by -storm. Entering the parlor, he put out his hand -and said with manly effusion: -</p> - -<p> -"I have come to ask you to let me help you, Mrs. Stuart." -</p> - -<p> -"Sit down, please. You are very kind. I——" -</p> - -<p> -Her words choked her, and she stopped. -</p> - -<p> -"I saw by the newspaper yesterday that you -were in trouble. I do not wish to pry into your -affairs, but I thought that you might be glad of -the counsel of a friend." -</p> - -<p> -His visit was precious balm to her spirit, but, -despite her gratitude, the knowledge that he was -heaping the traditional coals of fire on her head -made her uncomfortable. She had choked from -mingled relief and mortification. But now her -finer instinct responded to the kindness of his words -and she said with simple directness: "I should like -to tell you everything, Mr. Prentiss. My husband -left a week ago. He does not intend to return. -I have a letter from him, and he—he does not wish -to live with me any longer. He was willing to -support the children, but I could not make up my -mind to let them go. Our money is all gone and -this house is mortgaged. If you will help me to -find work so that I can support them and myself, -I shall be very grateful. It was very good of you -to come to see me." -</p> - -<p> -The children, attracted by the voice of a -stranger, had run in and stood one on either side -of their mother staring at him shyly with cherubic -eyes. The clergyman said to himself that here -was a veritable Madonna of distress—this lithe, -nervous-looking woman with her slim figure and -soulful face. How pretty and neat she looked in -spite of her misery! How engaging were the tones -in which she had set forth her calamity! He had -always admired her, and it had been a disappointment -to him that she had strayed. There was almost -jubilation in his heart as he heard that she -was free from the wretch who had pulled her -down; and though he intended to temper the ardor -of the priest by the tact of a man of the world, he -could not entirely restrain his impulse to stigmatize -her husband. "I see," he said. "You are much -to be pitied. It is a cruel wrong; the act of a -coward. But you must not take your trouble too -much to heart, Mrs. Stuart, for the man who will -leave a sweet wife and tender children from mere -caprice is no real husband and father." -</p> - -<p> -"Mr. Stuart has had much to worry him of late. -He has lost money, and been unfortunate in -politics." Her impulse was to apologize for her -husband even then. "I cannot understand though -how he could leave us," she added. After all why -should she a second time on Emil's account set her -face against the truth in the presence of this true -friend? Emil was a coward, and his act was a -cruel wrong. -</p> - -<p> -But Mr. Prentiss had recovered his aplomb. "I -will not distress you by talking about him; he has -gone. The matter with which I am concerned is -how to help you. We must find you employment -at once." -</p> - -<p> -Constance regarded him gratefully. "That is -my great requirement just now, Mr. Prentiss. I -need work to keep my children from starving and -to help me to forget. I am not afraid of work. -I shall be glad to do anything for which I am fit." -</p> - -<p> -"I understand, I understand. It is the pride of -my church to help just such women as you to -help themselves. You need give yourself no concern -as to your immediate pecuniary needs. They will -be provided for. I will send the Deaconess to you -at once." -</p> - -<p> -The directness of his bounty, the plain intimation -that she was a subject for charity brought a -flush to her cheeks. But she knew in an instant -that it would be false pride to protest. There was -no food or money in the house. -</p> - -<p> -"Thank you," she said simply. -</p> - -<p> -Mr. Prentiss divined her reluctance and appreciated -the delicacy of her submission. He recognized -that this woman with wistful brown eyes and -nervous, intelligent face was no ordinary person—was -even more deserving than he had supposed, -and his thoughts were already busy with the -problem of her future. He must find just the right -thing for her. "I know, of course, that you wish -to become self-supporting as soon as possible," he -said. "Will you tell me a little more about -yourself and your capabilities? You came to Benham -a few months before your marriage to fit yourself -to be a kindergarten teacher, if I remember -aright?" -</p> - -<p> -During the momentary pause which preceded -this inquiry her conscience had been reasserting -itself. She had longed for counsel and here it was. -If she had erred, there was yet time to repair her -fault. "Before we talk of that, may I ask you -one question, Mr. Prentiss? I wish to know if you -think it was selfish of me to keep both the children. -I desire to do what is right this time, whatever it -cost me." She clasped her hands resolutely in her -lap as though she were nerving herself for a -sacrifice. "I hope you will tell me exactly what you -think." -</p> - -<p> -The clergyman's heart warmed at this revelation -of spiritual vigor. "Here is a soul worth helping," -he reflected. Then, in answer to her appeal, -he exclaimed with righteous emphasis: "Ask your -own heart, my dear woman. Would you dare -trust these babies to your husband's keeping? This -is a problem of right and wrong, and demands a -severing of the sheep from the goats. You may -banish that doubt forever." -</p> - -<p> -Constance dropped her eyes to hide the tears -of satisfaction which had sprung into them at his -words. Her children were safe. The counsel -given was the very echo of the test by which she -had justified herself toward Emil. "Excuse me," -she said in apology for her emotion. Then -looking up she added with tremulous brightness, "I -felt that I must be sure before anything else was -decided. And now to answer your question as to -my own capabilities: I have none. I am eager to -learn, and I have had some education—my father -was fond of books and had a library—but I tell -you frankly that there is nothing but the simplest -manual work for which I am fitted at the present -time. I have thought that all over." -</p> - -<p> -"So far so good. Much of the trouble of this -world proceeds from the inability of people to -discern for what they are not fitted. Can you -sew?" -</p> - -<p> -"I can do plain sewing satisfactorily." -</p> - -<p> -"We will begin with that then. It will keep you -busy for the time being. Meanwhile I shall have -an opportunity to consider what you had best -undertake." He rose and put out his hand with -spontaneous friendliness. "Good-by. God bless -you. You are a brave soul, and He will not desert -you or leave you comfortless." -</p> - -<p> -Constance quickened at the firm pressure, and -her own fingers acknowledged the interest which -it expressed. She looked into his eyes with frank -confidence. "You have come to me at a time when -I needed someone more than ever before in my life. -I shall never forget it." -</p> - -<p> -Mr. Prentiss nodded and turned to go as though -he would disclaim this expression of everlasting -obligation. He felt that he was about his Master's -business, and was seeking neither thanks nor praise. -Yet, while he deprecated her gratitude, her entire -mental attitude caused him ethical and ęsthetic -satisfaction. The conviction that this ward of the -church was worth saving and helping gave elasticity -to his step and erectness to his large figure -as he strode up the street, knocking now and again -some bit of orange peel or other refuse from the -sidewalk with a sweep of his cane, which suggested -a spirit eager to do battle in behalf of righteousness. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap07"></a></p> - -<h3> -VII -</h3> - -<p> -Two days later the Rev. George Prentiss -dined at the house of another of his -parishioners, Mrs. Randolph Wilson. She was a -widow of about forty-five, the sister of Carleton -Howard, reputedly the wealthiest and most sagacious -of Benham's financial magnates, and a generous -benefactress of St. Stephen's. Her bounty had -enabled the rector from time to time to carry out -his cherished plans for the ęsthetic adornment of -the church property. The reredos, two stained-glass -windows, and the baptismal font in the -enlarged edifice had been provided by her; and -in the matter of charity she never failed to respond -by munificent subscriptions to the various causes -in aid of which he appealed to his congregation. -They were friends and allies; interested mutually -in St. Stephen's, and interested also, as they both -liked to feel, in promoting American civilization -outside of church work. Her house, or palace, as -it should more properly be termed, a counterpart -to that of her brother's which adjoined it, stood -in the van of progress, in Benham's fashionable -new quarter beyond the River Drive. No pains -or expense had been spared to make these mansions -impressive and magnificent. Architects of repute -had been employed to superintend their construction, -and their decorations and furnishings had -been chosen in consultation with persons whose -business it was to know the whereabouts of admirable -objects of art, and to tempt impecunious noble -families abroad to exchange their unique treasures -for dazzling round sums of American gold. -</p> - -<p> -Mrs. Wilson could fairly be termed the leader -of social activity in Benham, if such a term be -compatible with the institutions of a country where -every women is supposed to be a law unto herself. -Fashions, in the narrow sense of clothes, are in -America set by the dressmakers, but what -Mrs. Wilson wore was always a matter of moment to -women who wished to be in style. She dressed -elegantly, and she was able to take liberties with -the dressmakers, doing daring things with colors -and materials which justified themselves, yet were -so individual that they were liable to make guys -of those who copied her. Consequently, her wardrobe -had a distinction of its own which proclaimed -fashion yet defied it. Yet her clothes, striking and -superb as they often were, constituted only a small -part of her social effectiveness. Her gracious -finished manners, and quick, tactful intelligence were -the agents of a spirit perpetually eager to be -occupied and to lead, and which had found a labor of -love in directing what may well be called Benham's -ęsthetic renaissance. -</p> - -<p> -For Benham's evolution had been no mere -growth of bricks and mortar, and no mere triumph -in census figures over other centres of population. -Even more remarkable and swift than its physical -changes had been the transformation in the point -of view of its citizens. Twenty years earlier—in -1870, when Mr. Prentiss was a young man just -starting in the ministry—he had been one of a -small group of earnest souls interested in awakening -the public to a consciousness of the paucity of -their ęsthetic interests, and to the value of color -as a stimulating factor in the every-day life of the -community, and as such he had often deplored the -aridity of Benham's point of view. In those days -the city was virtually a hot-bed of republican -simplicity and contempt for social refinements so far -as all but a very small percentage of the -inhabitants was concerned. Those who built houses -larger and finer than their neighbors were few in -number and were stigmatized, if not as enemies -of the institutions of the country, as purse-proud -and frivolous. Hotels were conducted on the -theory that what was good enough for the landlord -was good enough for the guest, and that malcontents -could go elsewhere. In matters appertaining -to art, hygiene, education or municipal management, -one man's opinion was regarded as equal to -any other's, provided he could get the job. Special -knowledge was sneered at, and the best patriots in -the public estimation were those who did not -distrust the ability of the average citizen to produce -masterpieces in the line of his or her employment -by dint of raw genius untrammelled or unpolluted -by the experience of older civilizations. Though -solid business men wore solemn-looking black -frock-coats and black wisp ties in business hours, to -dress again in the evening was looked at askance as -undemocratic. It would have been considered an -invasion of the rights of the free-born citizen to -forbid expectoration in the street cars. Suggestions -that the vicious and unregenerate adult pauper -poor should not be herded with the young, that -busy physicians should cleanse a lancet before -probing a wound, and that sewage should not be -emptied into a river used as a source of water -supply, were still sniffed at by those in charge of -public affairs as aristocratic innovations unworthy -the attention of a sovereign people. Architectural -beauty both within and without the house was -disregarded in favor of monotonous sober hues and -solid effects, which were deemed to be suggestive -of the seriousness of the national character. -</p> - -<p> -While deploring some of these civic manifestations, -Mr. Prentiss had appreciated that the basis -of this ęsthetic sterility was ethical. When less -discerning persons had attributed it solely to -ignorance and self-righteous superficiality he had -maintained that a puritanical, yet moral and -sincere, hostility to extravagance and display was -responsible for the preference for ugly architecture -and homely upholstery and decoration, and -that conscience was the most formidable obstacle -to progress. As a priest of a church which -fostered beauty and favored rational enjoyment -of the fruits of the earth, he had never -sympathized with this public attitude, but he had -understood and, as an American, respected it. -</p> - -<p> -Now, in the twinkling of an eye, as it were, all -was changed, and Benham was in the throes of a -revival; a revival which during the last ten years -had revolutionized Benham's architecture and -Benham's point of view. The public had become -possessed by the conviction that they had -outgrown their associations and that the standards -hitherto revered were out of date and unworthy -of a nation and a city pledged to enlighten the -world, upon whom prosperity had been bestowed -in large measure. The group of earnest souls -who had dared to criticise seemed suddenly to have -become a phalanx—numerically unimportant, still, -when compared with the whole population, that -seething army of industrial wage-earners—but -assertive and energetic out of proportion to their -numbers. The city had become a hive of reforming -activities. Specialists in the arts and humanities -were no longer classed as traitors, but were -welcomed by a growing clientage as safeguards -against bumptious individualism. Though a cheerful -optimism in regard to the city's architectural -merits still prevailed at large, a silent censorship -was at work; substituting, in the business quarter, -new mammoth structures adapted to modern -industrial needs, erecting in the fashionable quarter, -by the aid of American architects trained in Paris, -well-built and individual-looking residences. -Instead of three or four cheerless, barrack-like -caravansaries with sodden cookery, there was a -score of modern hotels, the proprietors of which -vied with one another in their endeavors to lure -patronage by costly and sumptuous innovations. -There were comfortable and inviting restaurants. -The slap-dash luncheon counter, with its display -of pallid pie and one cadaverous chicken, was -waning in the popular esteem, in favor of neat spas, -at which the rush of patronage was alleviated by -clean service and wholesome fare. There were -eight theatres, each more spacious and splendid -than its predecessor. A frowsy black coat, worn -in the forenoon, had ceased to be a badge of -patriotism or moral worth, and the community had -become alive to the values of spruceness, color, -and comfort in matters of dress. Not only this, -but on the streets of Benham there were many -stylish equipages with liveried grooms, and in the -superb homes which the wealthy citizens had -established, there were grand entertainments, -where rivalry was rampant and money flowed like -champagne. And last, but not least, there was -Mrs. Randolph Wilson, the quintessence in her -own person of all that was best in this revival in -favor of the beautiful things of life, the living -embodiment of this newly directed and freshly -inspired energy. For well-to-do Benham and -Mr. Prentiss liked to believe that the impulse behind -these materialistic manifestations was conscience -and aspiration, a reaching out for a greater human -happiness and a wider human usefulness than had -been possible under the old dispensation. This -access of lavish philanthropy and study of -charitable methods, this zeal of committees promoting -new and more thorough methods in hygiene and -education, and all the phases of this new awakening -in quest of Christian beauty signified to him -Benham's—and hence American—originality and -fervor refined and spiritualized; Benham's -enterprise and independence informed, chastened, and -fortified. -</p> - -<p> -And yet there was another side to this whole -matter which had haunted Mr. Prentiss much of -late, and which was in his thoughts to-night as he -sat smoking his cigar after dinner. He had dined -sumptuously. Cool oysters, soup of mushrooms, -fish smothered in a luscious sauce, cutlets of -venison with French beans, little pyramids of <i>paté de -foie gras</i> encased in jelly, butter-ball ducks with a -salad richly dressed, and a confection of fruit, -cream, and pastry, which was evidently a -gastronomic specialty of Mrs. Wilson's French cook. -He had tasted everything; he had drunk two -glasses of champagne, and been pleasantly aware -that the cup of black coffee, served after dinner, -was an entrancing concoction which his own kitchen -did not afford; and he felt that his repast had done -him good. It was for him an occasion. Obviously -it was for Mrs. Wilson an every-day affair. Moreover, -this rich, delicious dinner, served by noiseless -servants on choice china, was in harmony with the -rest of the magnificent establishment, in harmony -with the artistic scheme of color, the soft lustrous -draperies, the striking pictures and other masterpieces -of art purchased for large sums abroad, and -Mrs. Wilson's beautiful toilette and exquisite -personality. Here was luxury triumphant and -compelling, yet unappeased and seeking fresh -opportunities for ęsthetic delight; as witness a Millet, -an inlaid table, and a Japanese idol in the room -in which he sat, all new since he had dined there last. -</p> - -<p> -What a vivid contrast all this to the cheerless -often squalid homes which he was accustomed to -visit as a rector of Christ's church! The thought -which haunted him was that one result of the city's -marvellous growth and development had been the -accentuation of the distinctions between rich and -poor, between class and class in a community -where, until lately, there had been theoretically no -classes. To be sure he had Mr. Carleton -Howard's assertion that there was no country in -the world where the poor man was so well off. -This was very likely true, but it did not affect the -proposition that the rich were daily growing richer -and more self-indulgent. What was to be the -limit—the outcome of this renaissance of beauty -and comfort, which he had welcomed? Had not -the ęsthetic reaction almost reached the point -where, both as a priest of God and as a good -American, it behooved him to cry halt against -luxury and extravagance? He frowned at this -last reflection for the reason that he was painfully -aware that he had fulminated against this sort of -thing from the pulpit for years, formerly as part -of the clerical formula championing the cause of -the spirit against the flesh, and latterly because -the Aladdin-like growth of great fortunes all over -the land, and conspicuously in his own community, -had often suggested the comparison between the -passage of a camel through the eye of a needle and -the rich man's entrance into the kingdom of heaven -as an appropriate text. He had spoken with fervor -and sincerity concerning the responsibilities of -those having great possessions, and sometimes with -living pictures in his mind. Neither Mrs. Wilson -nor her brother had ever been among those for -whom these admonitions were intended. They -had opened their purse-strings liberally to every -meritorious cause. The goodly size of their -cheques was to him a constant source both of -satisfaction and astonishment—astonishment at the -new possibilities open to those interested in God's -kingdom. -</p> - -<p> -Yet, though he put from him as ungenerous and -unnecessary any positive criticism of his hostess, -in the teeth of her many benefactions and her -personal activity in social undertakings, he could -not help realizing that, in spite of his utterances, -the evil which he deprecated was proceeding at a -pace which suggested the course of wild-fire. And -the worst of it was that he—the church—was so -helpless. Great fortunes had been accumulated -with a zeal which suggested the inevitable march -of destiny—a law which seemed almost to mock -the spirit of Christ—and, even while he was -musing, the city had become a theatre of industrial -contrasts, with the pomp and pride of life in the -centre of the stage and poverty and distress in the -ample background. There recurred to him the -traditional image of the curate of his faith—the -Church of England—cringing before or patronized -by the titled worshippers of Mammon. This, -at least, he could resent as impossible in his -case—he had never hesitated to speak his mind to any -of his parishioners, however important—still, the -reminder was disconcerting and a challenge to his -conscience. Nor was the reflection that this wave -of luxury, this more and more exacting reverence -for material comforts, was a part of the movement -of the century, and was common to all civilized -countries, a solace. He was an American, but first -of all, he was a servant of the church, and the -church was the beacon of civilization. Was she -doing her work, if these terrible inequalities were -to continue? What was to be the outcome of this -zest for luxurious personal comfort? -</p> - -<p> -To what extent the church ought to take part -in the economic regeneration of the world was one -of the questions which Mr. Prentiss had always -found perplexing. He was well aware that his -parishioners as a body were not fond of hearing -him preach on what they called secular subjects. -So long as he confined himself to enumerating -spiritual truths, they were not averse to his -illustrating his stigmas upon sin by generalizations -from current worldly abuses; but he knew that -many shook their heads and declared that the -cobbler should stick to his last when he ventured to -discourse on political topics or the relations of -labor and capital. Mr. Prentiss was not aware, -however, that some of this prejudice proceeded -from the circumstance that he was apt to lose his -head on such occasions; but, on the other hand, -much of it was genuine disinclination for advice -from the pulpit on subjects which, to quote the -women parishioners, were not spiritual, and, to -quote the men, were none of his business. His -congregation was almost entirely composed of pew -owners, people with vested rights, among which -appeared to be the right not to be harrowed by -socialistic doctrines. They were ready to help the -poor in any way which he would suggest, and they -had supplied him with a mission church where he -could reach the ignorant and needy more effectively, -but they argued that he had better leave -to the politicians all suggestions tending to disturb -the existing industrial order. -</p> - -<p> -Mr. Prentiss sometimes sighed over these -limitations, but he had become used to them, and in a -measure, with advancing years, he had, in his -endeavor to be a man of the world in order to remain -a more useful Christian, accepted the doctrine that -he had no plan to substitute for the present -economic system, and that he must make the best of -the existing situation. So, in practical, daily life, -he exhorted the rich to give their money and -themselves to the advancement of their fellow men, and -the poor to shun vice and bear their privations -with patience, while he held forth the promise of -the church of an existence hereafter for the pure -in heart where all the seeming inconsistencies of -this mortal life would be explained and justified. -Not being endowed with much sense of humor, -Mr. Prentiss, as he waxed in years, and St. Stephen's -became the fashionable church of the city, -had found less and less difficulty in accommodating -himself to this point of view, and in devoting all -his ardor to reclaiming souls for Christ. After -all, was not his mission to help men and women as -he found them? First of all to minister to their -souls, and in the name of Christianity to lift them -from the slough of human suffering and misfortune -that he might expound to them the loving mercies -of the Lord? The things of the earth were not -the things of the spirit, and he was more tenacious -than in his youth of the prerogatives of the church -as an institution controlling human consciences by -standards of its own, founded on the teachings of -the Prince of Peace. Nevertheless, being reasonably -clear-headed and fearless, he was not without -the suspicion at times that this reasoning was -mystical, and in the face of facts he had every now -and then his unpleasant quarters of an hour. -</p> - -<p> -This was one of them to-night. His hostess, -when the dinner was over, had left him to a cigar -and his own devices in the library. He was to -join her presently and be shown her daughter's -wedding presents. He had been invited to -dine in order that he might see them, but -Mrs. Wilson and he both knew that this was an -excuse for a quiet evening together in which -they might compare notes concerning their mutual -interests. Reaching out to knock off the ash of -his cigar into a dainty porcelain wheelbarrow, he -noticed a new photograph on the mantel-piece and -rose to examine it. He recognized it as one of -Clarence Waldo, the New Yorker to whom Miss -Lucille Wilson was betrothed. The sight of this -young man's countenance did not serve to restore -Mr. Prentiss's serenity. On the contrary, he stood -gazing at the photograph with an expression which -suggested that his soul was still perturbed. The -face was that of a man of twenty-seven or eight -with delicate features—thin lips, a long nose and -an indefinable haughtiness of expression which was -made up of weariness and disdain. He had large -eyes which lacked lustre, and his sparse hair gave -the effect of having been carefully brushed. The -clergyman had met him only a few times, and -Mr. Prentiss had never forgotten the first occasion, -which was at Lucille's coming-out ball three years -before. He had happened to find himself in -Mr. Waldo's path when the young man was in the act -of carrying everything before him with a plate -of salad for his partner, and he had never -forgotten the cold impertinence of the New Yorker's -stare. Paul Howard, Lucille's cousin, who -witnessed the encounter, said afterward that Clarence -had given Mr. Prentiss the dead eye, which was -a telling description of the stoniness of the -fashionable New Yorker's gaze. Mr. Prentiss had never -heard this diagnosis, but he had remembered the -episode. He regarded it, however, merely as -additional evidence of the lack of reverence on the -part of the young men of the day—and the young -women, too, for the matter of that—not merely -for sacred things, but for everything and -everybody which were in their way or did not happen -to appeal to their fancy. But though he considered -this absence of social politeness as one of the -cardinal failings of the age, his present thoughts -regarding Lucille's future husband were not -concerned with it. -</p> - -<p> -Since the engagement had been announced four -months ago he had been making inquiries, and the -information which he had received was in his mind -and troubled his soul as a corollary of the other -problems which had just been haunting him. It -was not of a character to justify him in forbidding -the bans—not even in remonstrating with Mrs. Wilson, -unless she were to ask his advice or provide -him with an opportunity. But he deplored -sincerely that this young man was to marry his -friend's daughter. Was this to be the outcome, -the crowning of the wealth of love and solicitude -which had been lavished on this only child—a child -brought up in his church? Was it for this that -Lucille had been made the central figure of costly -entertainments for the last three years, in the hope -that she might make a brilliant match? Decidedly, -it was a puzzling world, and circumstances seemed -to be conspiring to cloud his horizon and disturb -his digestion at a time when he ought to be -enjoying himself and taking his ease. -</p> - -<p> -"What does he offer her?" he said to himself. -"Twelve months of sporting life—American -sporting life. A superb stable, a four-in-hand -coach and steam yacht, polo, golf, the horse show, -cards, six months every third year in Europe, their -summers at Newport, their winters at Palm Beach. -The fortune which she will bring him will enable -them to live in the lap of luxury all the year round, -and he will teach her to regard those who are not -rich and who do not imitate their manner of life -as beneath their notice. I know the kind—I know -the kind." -</p> - -<p> -Soft footsteps interrupted his mental soliloquy. -"No, thank you," he exclaimed in a tone which -was almost militant to the waiters who approached -him with a tray. Mr. Prentiss supposed that -another form of stimulant was being offered him, -for Madeira, liqueurs and coffee had been successively -brought in and solemnly presented to him -by the two men servants, one of whom seemed to -him as superfluous as a plumber's helper. Then -as his gaze, which had been inward, appreciated -that the silver gilt tumbler contained apollinaris -water, he called them back and emptied the glass. -He had finished his cigar and it was time to rejoin -his hostess. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap08"></a></p> - -<h3> -VIII -</h3> - -<p> -Mr. Prentiss continued his monologue on -his way to the drawing-room. He imagined -himself saying to Mrs. Wilson, "You know -that I believe in toleration, and that I would not -set or preach an ascetic standard of life. I -believe—my church believes—that it is not profitable to -the human soul to mortify the flesh in every-day -life or refuse to enjoy the comforts of civilization. -But the set of people to which this young man -belongs are cumberers of the soil and a menace to -society. It is not merely a question of taste, but -of Christian morals. We have nothing to do with -other nations; our concern is with the social life -of this nation and whether we are to foster and -encourage a pleasure-loving, self-indulgent, and -purposeless leisure class." -</p> - -<p> -Yet though his thoughts thus shaped themselves -in fervent words, he was conscious that in the -absence of a cue his lips must remain sealed. There -was a limit imposed by society on the priestly office -which he could not overstep without appearing -officious, and thus weakening his influence. Were -it a case of notorious dissipation or some palpable -fault or blemish, it would be his duty to speak. -But he had no such data at his command. Clarence -Waldo was simply a fastidious idler, pretentious, -and indifferent to the vital interests of life. -It could not even be charged that he was marrying -Lucille for her money, as he had a competency of -his own. They would be able to buy all the dogs -and horses in the country if they saw fit. But his -own tongue was tied. To all appearances -Mrs. Wilson was content. At the time she had -announced her daughter's engagement to him, she -had said, in response to his earnest inquiry if she -were satisfied—said it with a blithe smile, as -though, on the whole, the best had happened—"I -should have been glad of course, if Lucille had -chosen a man of conspicuous talent, a future -United States Senator or successful artist or author. -If she had loved her lord, I should not have -objected to a title, because, after all, even to a -free-born American, there is a certain compensation in -becoming the mother of dukes and regenerating -an ancient line. But Clarence is well connected, -and the child is in love with him. So long as she -is happy, that is the essential thing." -</p> - -<p> -Since then he had become better informed as -to the young man's tendencies. But if Lucille was -in love with him and her mother acquiescent, what -was there to do? The church could not interfere -beyond a certain point without giving offence. -</p> - -<p> -Mrs. Wilson was not in the drawing-room, but -Mr. Prentiss caught a glimpse of her at her desk -in a smaller room which led out of it. She called -to him that she was answering a note and would -join him presently. The clergyman seated himself -and picking up from a low teak table beside him -a paper-cutter fashioned on a Japanese sword hilt -he compressed his fingers on the handle as an -outlet to his perplexity. Had he been walking in the -fields, he would have cut off the heads of the -dandelions with his cane. Marriage was a sacrament, -the most solemn undertaking in life, yet how -impossible it was to regulate matrimony for others. -He glanced around the room admiringly. Already -the musical notes of his hostess's voice had served -to dissipate partially the miasma of doubt which -had been assailing him. This main apartment was -one of a series of drawing-rooms, each furnished -with an exquisite magnificence suggestive of the -salons of France in the days of Louis XIV, save -that there was a superabundance of artistic -furnishings; hence the sight was confused by the array -of costly tapestries, marbles, bronzes, china, -and gilt or otherwise illuminated ornaments which -almost contended for space with one another, -though the rooms were of large proportions. One -feature of Benham's renaissance was the ambition -to outdo the past in size and gorgeousness, but -Mrs. Wilson's advisers had been animated also by -the desire for artistic success, and it was only in -its wealth of material that their and her—for she -had been the leading spirit after all—performance -was open to criticism. Here in Benham, where -twenty years before the horse-hair sofa was still -an object of admiring regard in the homes of the -well-to-do, the desert had blossomed with the rose, -and a veritable palace had been established. And, -as Mr. Prentiss reflected, joining his finger-tips -across his waist-band, all this lavish expenditure -meant the return by the rich of accumulated wealth -into circulation for the benefit of those who labored -for their bread, which was another of Mr. Carleton -Howard's telling truths. -</p> - -<p> -The swift, animated, but noiseless glide of -Mrs. Wilson into the room and onto a sofa, from which -she flashed at him a gracious, electric look of -attention with the words, "And now, my friend, I am -entirely at your disposal. It was a note which had -to be answered at once"—restored Mr. Prentiss's -serenity. She was one of those pleasant persons -in whose presence the world seems justified. When -she entered a room people were apt to pay tribute -by a pause in whatever they were doing, and she -became the focus of attention. The effect of her -graceful energy was largely responsible for this, -suggesting the forceful but silent sweep of a ship. -She had lost the figure and the countenance of -youth, but though her abundant crinkly hair was -grizzled no one ever thought of her age except to -observe that she was handsomer than as a younger -woman. She had never been a beauty; she was -now a distinguished looking, comely, and effective -matron. She was tall and rather willowy, but not -thin, with a proud, resolutely carried head, an -agreeable straight nose, short rather than long (her -best feature) a spirited, sympathetic smile, eyes -fundamentally gray, which changed as her -thoughts changed, and ingratiating but elegant -manners. Her face, notably the cheeks and lips, -was a trifle full, suggesting dimples, and possibly -to the critical a too-manifest desire to please. Her -obvious pose—which, though deliberate was -entirely genuine—was to be exquisite, sympathetic, -and intellectual, and for the expression of this -range of qualities she had serviceable allies in her -musical voice, a bewitching way of showing just -enough of her teeth, when she became vivacious, -and her ornamental clothes, which always suited -her. On this evening she wore an old-gold gown -with jet and lace accompaniments, an aigrette of -crimson gauze with which the plumage of her fan -was in harmony, a band of magnificent pearls -around her neck, and on her breast, though such -ornaments were not strictly in fashion, a large -brooch of fine workmanship containing a miniature -of two children of tender age. Of these children -one had died shortly after the miniature was -painted, the other was her daughter Lucille. Her -soul was dedicated to two interests, her joy and -ambition as a mother, and to the cause of social -human progress. -</p> - -<p> -Mrs. Wilson had been for fifteen years a -widow, and, though her husband held a hallowed -place in her heart, even she was conscious that the -broad scope of her present life dated from the -period when, seeking a refuge from her own grief -and loneliness, she had welcomed diverse social -employment. Her husband, Randolph, a hero -and a colonel of the Civil War, had claimed her -on his return as a bride. They were ardent lovers, -and they had never ceased to be so, certainly not -in theory. Some of Mrs. Wilson's knowing friends -were fond of insinuating, when the humor for gossip -prevailed, that he had died just in time, which -was their way of intimating that she had outgrown -him. But these dissectors of hearts did not -perhaps sufficiently remember that her own blossoming -forth into the woman she now was had been -subsequent to her husband's death. Nor did they -take sufficiently into account the bewildering course -of events which had attended her progress. -Colonel Wilson, a man of small means at the time of -their marriage, had become her brother's partner. -The properties in which he was interested at the -time of his death had subsequently proved so -valuable that she had found herself presently the -possessor of a million, a sum which had quadrupled -in the keeping of her brother, Carleton Howard, -one of the most powerful financiers in the country. -Opportunity surely had waited on her widening -aspirations, enabling her finally to establish -herself in this magnificent home surrounded by all the -ęsthetic attractions and many of the treasures of -modern civilization. -</p> - -<p> -Probably Mrs. Wilson herself had never sought -to analyze the past by the light of the present, -realizing, as we all do, that life unbeknown to us -has halting-places which become, as we look back, -the dividing lines between what are almost -separate existences. Though at her husband's death -she had made no resolutions regarding the future, -she had never felt the impulse to marry again, so -engrossing were the concerns of motherhood and -social responsibility. -</p> - -<p> -"You spoke at dinner of wishing my assistance -in some case in which you are interested. Will you -tell me about it now before we look at the -presents?" Mrs. Wilson continued with smiling interest. -</p> - -<p> -"Ah, yes." Mr. Prentiss was glad to have this -recalled to his mind. There was no chance here -for doubt or perplexity. "It is rather out of the -usual run of charity cases. The personality of the -woman, I mean. The circumstance that her husband -has run away and left her penniless, with two -young children to support is, alas! only too -common." -</p> - -<p> -"Poor thing! How can I be of service?" -</p> - -<p> -"The woman—her name is Mrs. Stuart—notwithstanding -her disastrous marriage, seems to me -distinctly superior. She came to Benham some six -or seven years ago, and I knew her a little at -St. Stephen's before she was a wife. Indeed, I -married them, and made some inquiries at the time -concerning the husband's circumstances, but learned -nothing to his discredit. She has found him to be a -godless, unscrupulous person with drinking habits, -and recently he has deserted her on the grandiose -plea that they would be happier apart. She will -be happier; I am sure of that; but I have been -exercised as to how to enable her to become -self-supporting. She is called to higher usefulness than -scrubbing or plain sewing, but though I have discerned -in her capabilities and refinement, she is not -at present equipped for any active employment." -</p> - -<p> -"Which only tends to show, my friend, that -every woman"—Mrs. Wilson paused an instant—"every -woman who has not independent means of -her own, I mean, should be educated to be -self-supporting—should have some definite -bread-winning occupation which would render her -independent of the man she marries in case he dies or -misbehaves. I was thinking the other day that a -society formed to advocate this doctrine before -clubs of girls as a condition of marriage would -prove efficacious." -</p> - -<p> -Mr. Prentiss nodded. "It is certainly the duty -of Christian society to provide additional -safeguards against the consequences of improvident -wedlock. In this particular instance, the young -woman plighted her troth while she was studying -to become a kindergarten teacher. She was a -country doctor's daughter, and is gentle and -refined, as well as intelligent in appearance—one of -those lithe, tense American personalities in which -the spirit appears to burn at the expense of the -body, but which, like the willow, bend but do not -break under the stress of life." -</p> - -<p> -"She sounds interesting, and I do not see that -she has been to blame. We must raise a fund for -her. With how large a subscription shall I head -the list?" Though Mrs. Wilson gave freely on -merely charitable grounds, she gave with more -enthusiasm when the objects of her bounty had not -offended her sense of the social fitness of things. -</p> - -<p> -The clergyman put out his hand. "That -wouldn't do exactly, I think. She is not too proud -to let us help her for a few weeks with coal and -groceries until she can earn for herself. She -realizes that she must be sensible, if only for the -children's sake. She has an independent simplicity of -nature and clearness of perception which would -stand in the way, I fear, of her accepting a -donation such as you have in mind; though I should -dearly love to allow you to pay off the -encumbrances on their house, which, owing to her -husband's rascalities have eaten up her little -home—her patrimony. But I am sure she would refuse." -</p> - -<p> -"I see. We should think less of her if she -allowed herself to be pauperized, much as I should -enjoy giving her a deed of her home free and -clear—the mere thought of it causes me a thrill of -pleasure. But the worst of such tragedies is that -we are most powerless to aid those who are most -deserving." Mrs. Wilson leaned back among her -cushions, and, drawing a pale pink rose from a -bunch in a vase at her elbow, laid it along her -cheek and inhaled its fragrance. "If she were an -undiscerning, common spirit with workaday -sensibilities, as so many of them are, she would not -refuse, but—half the pleasure of giving would be -lost. It is a privilege and the fashion to be -charitable, but so much of our charity consists in filling -the mouths and clothing the bodies of the wretched -who will never be appreciably different or strive -to be different from what they are." -</p> - -<p> -"The poor we have always with us," murmured -the clergyman. -</p> - -<p> -"Always. The shiftless, dirty, unaspiring, -unęsthetic poor. The dregs and lees of human -endeavor. We must feed and clothe them, of course, -and help them to help themselves, but sometimes -I forget the pathos of it all in the ugliness and -squalor. Consequently, when the chance to do -real good comes, it is a pity not to be able to lift -the burden completely. What, then, can I do for -this young person?" -</p> - -<p> -"I have thought over her case for the last -forty-eight hours, and have come to the conclusion that, -as she has no special training, her best chance for -employment is to learn short-hand and to use the -typewriter. I understand that women proficient in -this vocation can usually secure steady work at a -fair wage. Though Mrs. Stuart would be unwilling -to accept a direct gift of money, I feel confident -that she would not refuse to let us put her in -the position to become self-supporting—that is, -defray the cost of the lessons necessary to make -her a competent stenographer or office clerk. And -I thought you might be glad to pay for these -lessons—a matter of six months or so." -</p> - -<p> -Mr. Prentiss had taken up the paper-cutter -again, and he passed the flat of the metal blade -across his palm as though he were smoothing out -his plan as well as the creases. -</p> - -<p> -"Gladly," she responded. "For as long as you -desire. And, perhaps, when she has learned what -is necessary, my brother may know of some -opening for her down-town." -</p> - -<p> -"Very likely," answered Mr. Prentiss, with -resonant acquiescence. "The same thought had -occurred to me." -</p> - -<p> -"And, in the meantime, since you tell me that -she is competent and refined, my secretary, who -will have her hands full with the details of the -wedding, may be able to give her occasional -errands to do. You may tell her to call when her -plans are adjusted and to ask for me." -</p> - -<p> -"Excellent. And we shall both be your debtors." -</p> - -<p> -Mrs. Wilson smiled graciously, showing the -dimples in her cheeks. The demands made upon -her for pecuniary aid were of daily, it might be -said hourly, occurrence. Whoever in Benham was -in search of money applied to her, and the post -brought her solicitations from all sorts of people, -among whom were the undeserving or importunate, -as well as the needy or humanitarian. As lady -bountiful, she purposed to exercise intelligent -discrimination in her charities, and she accepted -thanks as a tribute to that quality. -</p> - -<p> -"Come," she said, rising, "I will show you the -presents. Only think, four hundred of them, and -so many beautiful things! People have been so -kind. Several of my brother's friends in New -York have sent most exquisite tokens—a necklace -of diamonds and pearls from Mr. Fenton the -banker, a gold dessert service from his railroad -ally, Mr. Kennard." -</p> - -<p> -She led the way from the drawing-room suite -into the hall, where electricity in artistic guises -illuminated the broad panellings, a splendid Terriers -and three or four bronze or marble statuaries of -rare merit, and up the stair-case to the next floor -into what was known as the morning-room—an -apartment where Mrs. Wilson conducted her -affairs and did her reading and thinking. This was -a combination of study and ęsthetic boudoir. -There were seductive sofas and quaint capacious -chairs supplied with brightly colored cushions, and -dainty draperies, all in silken stuffs of patterns -reminiscent of the Orient. Art, in its most delicate -and spiritual forms, breathed from every object of -furniture or decoration; from the small pictures—some -in oils, some in water-colors—which merited -and often demanded the closest scrutiny; from the -few vases of entrancing shape and hue, from the -interesting photographs in beautiful frames, from -the curious and rare memorials of travel and wise -choice of what cunning fingers had wrought with -infinite labor. As in the rest of the house, there -was still too much wealth of material, too much -scintillation and conglomeration of color, but -the intent had been—and not without success—to -produce a more subtle atmosphere than prevailed -outside, as of an inner temple. Prominent -in one angle stood Mrs. Wilson's desk, rose-wood, -inlaid with poetic gilt tracery, and littered with -the correspondence of a busy woman. Books and -other articles of daily use lying here and there -without effort at order gave to the room the air of -being the intimate abode of a human soul. Opening -out of this was a private music-room, which was -used by Mrs. Wilson and her daughter in preference -to the large music-room on the street floor -intended for musical parties and dances. Here -were the wedding presents, a dazzling array of -gold, silver, jewels, glass, china, and ornamental -knick-knacks, tastefully arranged on tables -introduced for the purpose. As they entered an -attendant withdrew into the hall. -</p> - -<p> -"We have thought it more prudent to have a -watchman on guard by night and day," explained -Mrs. Wilson; "for I suppose it is true, as one of -those ridiculous newspaper items asserts, that these -gifts represent at least one hundred thousand -dollars. By the way," she continued, with a gentle -sigh, "it is so difficult to know what attitude to -adopt with the newspaper people. If one refuses -them the house, their sensibilities are hurt and they -are liable to invent falsehoods or write disagreeable -paragraphs. If they are allowed to inspect -everything, they publish details which make one's -heart sick, and make one appear a vain fool. How -is a person in my position to be courteous toward -the power of the press and yet to maintain the -right to privacy? Is not this superb?" she added, -holding up a crest of diamonds in the form of a -tiara. "My brother's present to Lucille." -</p> - -<p> -"Beautiful—beautiful, indeed," murmured the -clergyman. The sight of all these costly things -was bewildering to his mind as well as to his eyes. -"Ah, the press—the press, it is a problem, indeed. -We would seem to have the right to individual -privacy, would we not? And yet in this age of -ours, pressure is so often used upon us to thrust -our wares into the shop-windows—as in my case, -sermons for newspapers of the most sensational -class—on the plea of a wider usefulness, a closer -touch with the wilderness of souls, that it is -difficult to know where the rights of the public end as -to what one has. What would seem to be vanity -may often be only another form of philanthropy. -And yet——" -</p> - -<p> -"And yet," interposed Mrs. Wilson, as she -singled out an enchanting fan of gold and ivory and -the most exquisite lace and spread it for his -inspection, "why should I pander to the vulgar curiosity -of the public? It is none of their business." -</p> - -<p> -"In a matter of this kind I quite agree with you. -If they could see all these beautiful things, there -might be some sense in it; but that would be out -of the question, of course." -</p> - -<p> -"That will be the next step; our houses thrown -open to the madding crowd. Six newspapers—two -from New York—applied recently for leave -to see the presents. I intended to refuse firmly, -but to my astonishment Lucille seemed disappointed. -It never occurred to me that she would -not hate the publicity. She gave a little shriek -and said, 'Mamma, how dreadful!' and then added -in the next breath, 'Everybody does it, and, as -something is sure to be printed, might it not be -better to make certain that it's correct?' A day -or two later she was photographed in her tiara, -and from what has transpired since I fear that the -idea of publicity was not foreign to her thought. -My child, Mr. Prentiss! Only think of it! One -can never quite understand the point of view of -the rising generation. I consulted Carleton, and -he grew successively irate, contemplative, -philosophical, and weak-kneed. In short, a week ago -a reportorial woman, with the social appetite of a -hyena and the keen-eyed industry of a ferret, passed -the forenoon in the house and went away with a -photograph of Lucille in the tiara. And what is -worst of all, in spite of my humiliation at the -whole proceeding, I am decidedly curious to see -what she has written." -</p> - -<p> -The sound of voices in the morning-room broke -in upon this confession. "Ah, here you are, Aunt -Miriam! I have brought you an artistic masterpiece -with a felicitous biography of the distinguished -heroine. Behold and admire!" -</p> - -<p> -The speaker was Paul Howard, Mrs. Wilson's -nephew. He advanced from the doorway with -radiant, teasing face, holding out a newspaper at -which he pointed delightedly. At his heels -followed Lucille and Clarence Waldo, she protesting, -yet betraying by her laughing confusion that her -indignation was half-hearted; he stalking with -self-important gravity save for a thin smile, the limit -of his deliberate contributions to the gayety of -nations unless under the influence of alcoholic -conviviality. At men's gatherings there was a stage -in the proceedings when Clarence Waldo became -decorously mellow and condescended—indeed, -expected to be asked—to sing one of three or four -quasi-humorous ditties at his command, a function -which he seemed to regard as an important social -contribution and for which he practised in secret. -Also, after luncheon or dinner, he was liable to -lay down the law in loud tones in regard to current -sporting affairs. But his habitual manner was -languid and his expression cold, as though he feared -to compromise himself by interest or enthusiasm. -He was very tall. In the centre of his crown was -a bald spot. He stooped slightly, and, except -among his intimates, looked straight before him -lest he might see someone whom he did not wish -to know. In the rear of this family party came -Carleton Howard, stepping firmly yet deliberately, -as he always did, as though he walked abreast of -Time, not tagging at her skirts like so many of his -contemporaries—a fine figure of a man approaching -sixty, with a large body, but not corpulent, a -broad brow, a strong, defiant nose, iron-gray hair -and a closely cut iron-gray mustache, clear, fearless, -yet reflective eyes, and a mouth the pleasant -tension of which indicated both determination and -tact. He was smoking a cigar, and had come in -from his own library to enjoy the bearding of his -sister by the young people. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap09"></a></p> - -<h3> -IX -</h3> - -<p> -Before Mrs. Wilson could ascertain what it -was, Lucille made a dash at the newspaper. -Paul thrust it behind his back. -</p> - -<p> -"Give it to me, Paul," demanded the young -woman, imperiously. "I order you to give it to -me," she reiterated, tapping her foot. "You are -a hateful tease." -</p> - -<p class="capcenter"> -<a id="img-120"></a> -<img class="imgcenter" src="images/img-120.jpg" alt=""Give it to me, Paul," demanded the young woman imperiously" /> -<br /> -"Give it to me, Paul," demanded the young woman imperiously -</p> - -<p> -"Surely, my fair cousin, you're not going to -deprive your mother of the satisfaction of gazing -on this work of art, and reading this appreciative -description of your personal charms? Can you -not see how impatient she is to have it all to herself?" -</p> - -<p> -"You have certainly whetted my curiosity, -Paul," said Mrs. Wilson. -</p> - -<p> -"I forbid you to show it to her." -</p> - -<p> -"Why?" -</p> - -<p> -"It is too ridiculous and foolish, and the -picture—" Her criticism on that score instead of -seeking words culminated in another spring, which -Paul evaded by wheeling spryly about so that he -still faced her. -</p> - -<p> -Paul Howard was an ornamental, attractive -specimen of athletic, optimistic American youth; a -fine animal of manly, well-knit proportions with no -sign of physical weakness or of effeminacy in his -person or his face. His countenance was open and -ruddy; his eyes clear blue, his hair light brown. -His lip was scrupulously clean-shaven, exposing -the full, pleasant strength of his father's mouth. -Indeed, in conformity with the prevailing fashion -among his contemporaries, he wore neither mustache, -beard, nor whiskers, as though in immaculate -protest against every style of hirsute ornamentation, -from the goat-like beard of Methodistical -statesmanship to the spruce mustache and -well-trimmed whiskers of men of the world of fifteen -years earlier. He was a Harvard graduate; he -had been on the foot-ball team, and a leading -spirit in the social life of the college; had been -around the globe since graduation, and spent -nearly a year shooting big game in the Rockies -and getting near to nature, as he called it, by -living on a ranch. All this as preliminary to taking -advantage of the golden spoon which was in his -mouth at his birth. At twenty-three he had -signified that he was ready to buckle down to the -responsibilities of guarding and increasing the family -possessions, an announcement delighting his -father's heart, who had feared, perhaps, lest his -only son might conclude to become merely a -clubman or a poet. This was the fourth year of his -novitiate, much of which had been spent in New -York, where Mr. Howard, though his home was -in Benham, had established a branch of his -banking-house, at the head of which he intended -presently to place Paul. On the young man's -twenty-fifth birthday the magnate had made him a -present of a million dollars so as to put him on his -feet and permit him to support a wife. If this -were a hint, Paul had taken it. Though absorbed -in financial undertakings of magnitude (which -had included the electric street-car combination -hostile to the aspirations of Emil Stuart), he had -wooed and wed one of the prettiest girls in -Benham, and he possessed, not many blocks away, a -stately establishment of his own. He was -accustomed to walk hand in hand with prosperity, and -this habit was reflected in the gay and slightly -self-satisfied quality of his manliness. -</p> - -<p> -After foiling his cousin for a few moments, -with a tantalizing smile, a new idea occurred to -him. He held out the newspaper, saying, "Very -well then, here it is. I dare you, Lucille, to -destroy it. Nothing would induce you to part -with it." -</p> - -<p> -Lucille snatched the sheet from his hand, and -her ruffled hesitation indicated that to destroy it -was the last thing she had intended. In another -instant she tore the newspaper into strips with an -air of disdain and cast them on the floor. -Delighted at the success of his taunt, Paul stooped -and gathering the fragments began to piece them -together. -</p> - -<p> -"That is only a blind. She knows she can buy -a dozen copies to-morrow. Listen, Aunt Miriam, -to this gem which I have rescued: 'The fair bride -has a complexion of cream of alabaster, with -beautiful almond-shaped eyes, and hair of black -lustre, which, rising from her forehead in queenly -bands, seems the natural throne of the glittering -diadem in the picture, one of her choicest bridal -gifts.' Could anything be more exquisite and -fetching?" He gave a laugh which was almost -a whoop of exultation. -</p> - -<p> -"No matter, Lucille," said Mrs. Wilson, -coming to her daughter's rescue. "It is only envy on -Paul's part. The newspapers did not make half -so much of his wedding." In her own heart she -did not approve of the publicity, but the sense of -importance which it conveyed was not without its -effect even on her. Besides, the personal -description, though florid in style, was to her maternal -eyes not an exaggerated estimate of her daughter's -charms. -</p> - -<p> -"The writer was evidently under the spell of -her subject," said Mr. Prentiss, gallantly. -Though tolerant of banter, especially at clerical -gatherings, and partial to Paul Howard as one -of the young men whom he desired to draw into -closer union with the church, the idea of the -possibilities of the newspaper as a dispenser of benefits -was still in his mind, and served to minimize the -vanity, if any, of his friend's daughter. -</p> - -<p> -"Quite naturally, Mr. Prentiss," retorted the -tormenting Paul, "for the subject gave a private -audience to the writer only a few days ago." -</p> - -<p> -Paul spoke from the desire to tease, not because -he objected actively to the connivance of his cousin -with the designs of the press. If the opportunity -to do away with the whole practice of prying into -and advertising private social matters had been -presented to him, he would gladly have embraced -it, and welcomed at the same time the further -opportunity to tar and feather or duck the race of -social reporters. But as an astute and easy-going -American he recognized the prevalence of the -habit, and though personally he tried to dodge -with good humor the impertinent inquiries of press -agents, he was not disposed to censure those who -yielded to their importunities. Indeed, Paul -Howard was so bubbling over with health prosperity, -and a generally roseate conception of life -as he saw it, that he shrank from active criticism -of existing social conditions. He was a strong -patriot, and it pleased him to believe that -Americans were world-conquerors and world-teachers. -Hence that it was the part of good Americans to -join hands all round and, avoiding nice strictures, -to put their shoulders to the wheel of progress. -</p> - -<p> -"How absurd you are, Paul," answered Lucille. -"That woman badgered me with questions, and -was positively pathetic into the bargain, for she -confided to me that she hated the whole business, -but that her bread and butter depended on it. She -was certain to write something, and so rather -than have everything wrong, I told her a few -things." -</p> - -<p> -"And gave her your photograph in the tiara." -</p> - -<p> -"She asked for it. She saw it lying on the -table. Wasn't that better than to be caricatured -by some snap-shot with a camera?" -</p> - -<p> -The dire results of what would have ensued had -she been less accommodating seemed so convincing -to Lucille as she recited them that her tone changed -from defence to conviction. -</p> - -<p> -"I know a woman," said Clarence Waldo, -"who told her servants not to let any of those -newspaper beggars inside the house, and what do -you suppose happened? On the day of the -wedding there appeared an insulting account of the -affair with everything turned topsy-turvy and -disparaging remarks about both families. It's an -awful bore, but when people of our sort are -married the public doesn't like to be kept in the dark, -you know." -</p> - -<p> -"There! You see!" exclaimed Lucille, triumphantly. -</p> - -<p> -The description of this young lady which her -cousin had read was fundamentally correct. Her -eyes could scarcely be called almond-shaped, but -their curves were more gradual than those of -most American women, a feature which, in -conjunction with her thin lips and thin, pointed nose, -gave to her countenance an expression of -fastidiousness, which was characteristic. She was an -example of the so-called Gibson girl, with a tall -and springy, yet slight, figure, and a race-horse air -which suggested both mettle and disdain. She -had been brought up on the theory of free -development—a theory for which not her mother but -the tendency of the day was responsible. Parents, -when it comes to a choice in educational methods, -are apt at heart to recognize their own personal -ignorance, and those with the highest aims for -their offspring are most likely to adopt the newest -fashionable graft on human experience. We are -perpetually on the look-out for discoveries which -will enable our children to become the bright -particular stars which we are not. So what more -natural than that Mrs. Wilson, with her ardent -bent for improving social conditions, should -swallow—hook, bait, and sinker—the theory that the -budding intelligence should be cajoled and -humored, not thwarted and coerced? The idea thus -pursued at kindergarten, that everything should -be made easy and agreeable for the infant mind, -had been steadily adhered to, and Lucille could -fairly be said to have had her own way all her -life. This own way had been at times bewildering, -not to say disheartening, to her mother. -Mrs. Wilson had expected and yearned for a soulful, -aspiring, poetic daughter with an ambition for -culture—herself, but reincarnated and much -improved. Instead, Lucille had showed herself to -be utterly indifferent to poetry, lukewarm in -regard to culture, almost matter of fact in her -mental attitude, and sedulously enamoured of athletic -pursuits. She had a fancy for dogs. From fifteen -to eighteen she had followed golf, tennis, and -boating, hatless and with her sleeves rolled up to -her elbows, a free and easy and rather mannerless -maiden, Amazon-like in her bearing, but unlike -an Amazon in that she was a jolly companion to -the boys, who called her promiscuously by her -Christian name, as she did them by theirs. Does -such a process of familiarity dull the edge of -romance? We do not yet know. Each rising -generation provides new problems for the wise elders, -and this was one of those which had kept -Mrs. Wilson uneasy. -</p> - -<p> -She had looked forward to Lucille's formal -introduction to society as a social corrective, and -argued that, as soon as her daughter met the -world face to face, there would be a modification -both of Lucille's tastes and point of view. So -strong is the emphasis laid by American mothers -in fashionable society on what is called "the -coming out" of their daughters that the concern -engendered by the approach of the ordeal could fitly -be described as a phase of hysteria. The true -perspective of life becomes utterly and absurdly -distorted by apprehension lest the dear child should -not have "a good time" and by a fierce ambition -that she should have a better "time" than her -mates. As a consequence, competition—that -absorbing passion of American character—is prone -to take advantage of all the opportunities at its -command, not merely to decorate the unprepossessing -or provide the duck with the environment -of the swan, but to make princesses out of goose -girls by sheer gorgeous manifestations of the -power of the almighty dollar. We all know that -every woman in the world would prefer at heart -to be called wicked rather than common, unless -she were common—one of those extraordinary results -of the tyranny of the social instinct which -plays havoc with religious codes; and there is -probably no country where the most socially adept -are more intolerant of commonness than in -democratic America—a fact which should be -disconcerting to that form of socialism which yearns for -a dead-level. Yet the tendency to exploit one's -daughters by means of money and to exploit them -even with barbaric splendor is current among our -most socially sophisticated people. -</p> - -<p> -Mr. Carleton Howard's "coming-out" ball for -his niece was the most splendid function which -Benham had ever known, and for the next three -years Lucille's life had been one round of social -gayety, emphasized by the character of the things -done in her behalf by her family, which were -severally executed, if not conceived, in a spirit of -emulation, though Mrs. Wilson would doubtless -have resented the impeachment. Mrs. Wilson -would have put the blame on the tendency of the -age, arguing that American society was becoming -more and more exacting in its Esthetic demands, -and that one must conform to existing usage in -order to lead. But an examination of the facts -would reveal that whatever form of entertainment -was given by her for Lucille, as, for instance, the -four colored luncheons, when the food and the -table ornaments were successively red, orange, -blue, and heliotrope, and four sets of twelve -young girls stuffed themselves through eight -courses at mid-day, was carried out with a lavish -accentuation of new and costly effects. It was -currently recognized that at her house the cotillion -favors and the prizes at games were worth having—silver -ornaments, pretty fans, things of price—always -a step beyond the last fashion, as though -the world would not be content to stand still, but -must be kept moving by more and more expensive -social novelties. -</p> - -<p> -Though three years of this life had served to -transform the mannerless Amazon into a socially -correct and fastidious young woman, the result, -nevertheless, was a secret disappointment to her -mother, who had hoped that Lucille would develop -intellectual or ęsthetic tastes under the influence -of these many advantages. But what can a -mother whose daughter prefers athletics to art, -and fox terriers to philanthropy, do but make the -best of it? Lucille had a will of her own and -seemed to know exactly what she wished, which -included marrying Clarence Waldo. To thwart -her would be useless, to quarrel with her was out -of the question. The only thing was to give her -as brilliant a wedding as possible and hope for -the best. And after all, the best was by no means -out of the question. Lucille was young and was -going to New York. There was no telling what -a girl of twenty-one, with large means and the -best social opportunities, might not become by the -time she was thirty-five. Mrs. Wilson had herself -cast sheep's eyes at New York as a residence -before building her new house, but she had decided -to remain dominant in a small puddle. There -were compensations in doing so. She flattered -herself that in this age of telephones and telepathy -she was able to keep in touch with the metropolis -and to get her social cues accordingly. But to -have a daughter there would be interesting, -provided all went well. The proviso should not be -overlooked; for Mrs. Wilson had not lowered her -own standards. She was merely trying to extract -all the maternal comfort and pride she could out -of the existing situation. -</p> - -<p> -"But, my dear Lucille," said Paul, intending a -crushing blow to his cousin's returning assurance, -"if you were really so anxious to escape notoriety, -you had merely to mention it to father. A word -from him would have silenced every newspaper in -town." -</p> - -<p> -"Scarcely that—scarcely that, young man," -interposed Mr. Howard in a tone of friendly -authority. "Very possibly, had I expressed a -preference, my wishes would have been respected -by one or two newspapers where I happen to have -some influence. But your statement is altogether -too sweeping." He spoke incisively, as though he -desired to deprecate the suggestion of the power -attributed to him by his more impulsive son. "The -press is jealous of its privileges and must be -humored as a popular institution. And, after all, -what does a little publicity matter? You mustn't -mind what Paul says, Lucille. There's no reason -to feel abashed because the public has been given -a chance to see the most charming bride of the -year." -</p> - -<p> -"Abashed? She is tickled to death," retorted -Paul. -</p> - -<p> -Mr. Howard put his arm around his niece's -shoulder in the guise of a champion. When -controversy had reached the stage where adjustment -was no longer possible, he was an uncompromising -antagonist. But, as a successful man content with -existing conditions, he deplored friction in all the -relations of life, and to use an industrial phrase, -liked to see everything running smoothly. He -laughed incredulously, and patting Lucille's arm -exclaimed, "Nonsense!" Then, accosting the -clergyman, he added, "Now that this momentous -matter has been disposed of, Mr. Prentiss, will -you join me in a cigar in my own library?" -</p> - -<p> -Mr. Prentiss excused himself. He had work -to do, and knew that if he remained he would be -apt to stay late. But he was interested from a -theoretic stand-point in the discussion to which he -had been listening. -</p> - -<p> -"You evidently feel as I do, Mr. Howard," -he said, "that there are two sides to the question of -newspaper publicity, and that as good citizens we -are not always at liberty to insist on privacy." -</p> - -<p> -Mr. Howard answered with the suave force -and clearness which gave to all his utterances the -effect of deliberate conviction. "Mr. Prentiss, I -accept the institutions of my country as I find -them, and try to make the best of them. There -are those whose only pleasure seems to be to carp -at what they do not wholly admire in our civic -system. The press is one of the most powerful and -useful forces of modern life. As such I value and -support it, though I'm keenly alive to the flagrant -evils and the cruel vulgarities for which it is daily -responsible. But one can't afford as an American -citizen to condemn as worthless and ill-begotten -the things of which the people as a whole approve. -We must compromise here as in so many matters -in our complex civilization, and where trifles are -concerned, be complacent even against our convictions." -</p> - -<p> -"Indisputably," said the clergyman. "In the -constant faith that our tolerance will work for -improvement." -</p> - -<p> -"Ah, but the newspapers are worse than ever," -exclaimed Mrs. Wilson, with a sigh. "One has to -wade through so much for so little. I read them -scrupulously, because, if I do not, I'm sure to miss -something which I would like to see. That sounds -inconsistent. But why doesn't somebody establish -a really first-class newspaper?" -</p> - -<p> -"Because a newspaper must be first of all a -successful business enterprise in order to be able -to exist," responded her brother. "It is a -question of dollars and cents. All that will come -presently. And we are really improving all the time. -Just think of what a large and complicated -industry a modern newspaper establishment has grown -to be." He spoke as though he saw and wished -to bring before his hearers' eyes the towering, -mammoth homes of the press in all our large -cities, the enforced outcome of the ever-increasing -popular demand for the world's news. "Come, -Paul," he said, putting his arm through his son's, -"since Mr. Prentiss will not join us in a cigar we -will leave these good people to their own devices, -and go back to our work." -</p> - -<p> -Paul, with a pocket full of documents and with -the obnoxious newspaper in his hand, had reached -the door of his father's house just as Lucille and -her betrothed were alighting from a carriage. -Lured by his goading remarks they had followed -him within and into his father's library, where at -a safe distance he had vouchsafed his cousin -glimpses of her tiara-crowned figure and read -aloud choice extracts until the spirit had moved -him to pass through the dividing door between the -two establishments in search of his aunt. He had -left home with the idea of an hour's confabulation -with his father over certain schemes in which they -were jointly interested—a frequent habit of his -late in the evening. Mr. Carleton Howard never -went to bed before one, and was invariably to be -found after eleven in his library reading or cogitating, -and always prepared at that quiet time to give -his keenest intelligence to the issues presented to -him. -</p> - -<p> -Father and son passed along through the secret -passageway until they found themselves in -Mr. Howard's capacious library. This superb room -was the result of an architect's conscientious -ambition to see what could be accomplished where -his client was obviously willing to obtain excellence -and had imposed on him no limits either in -respect to space or expense. As regards size, it -bore the same relation to the ordinary library of -the civilized citizen that the Auditorium in -Chicago bears to every-day hotels, or the steamship -<i>Great Eastern</i> bore to other ocean carriers. -Consequently it was a little vast for strict cosiness. -The huge stamped leather chairs and sofas, though -inviting, seemed designed for persons of -elephantine figure, in order perhaps to avoid being -dwarfed. But the shelves upon shelves of books -which covered completely from floor to ceiling -two of the walls—choice editions in fine -bindings—gained dignity from the superfluous dimensions. -If it be said in this connection that, to one familiar -with Mr. Howard's associations, the idea of many -storied office buildings might occur, the answer is -that he was responsible for nothing which the room -contained except its large and admirable display -of etchings, which, owing to almost weekly accretions, -had begun to disarrange the original ęsthetic -scheme of the designer. Mr. Howard had left -everything else to his architect, but etchings were -his hobby—one which had attracted his fancy -years before by accident, and had retained its hold -upon him. He was familiar now, as a man of -sagacity and method, with the many bibliographical -and ethnological treasures by which he was -surrounded, and could exhibit them becomingly, -but when the conversation turned on the etcher's -art he was on firm ground and could talk as clearly -and authoritatively as about his railroads. -</p> - -<p> -The banker chose his favorite seat, within -comfortable distance of one of the fire-places, facing -a beautiful polar bear-skin rug of extraordinary -size. Close at hand was a large table with -writing materials and such magazine literature or -documents as he might wish to examine. Adjustable -lights were at either elbow, and in the direct line of -his vision as he ordinarily sat were two of his -favorite works of art, an Albert Dürer and a -Wenceslaus Hollar. He lighted another cigar -and, after a few puffs, said: -</p> - -<p> -"That clergyman is decidedly a useful man. He -has common sense and he has discretion." -</p> - -<p> -"He isn't at all a bad sort," responded Paul. -Though guarded in form, this was intended as -an encomium, just as when Paul meant that he had -enjoyed himself thoroughly, he was apt to state -that he had had a pretty good time. Anglo-Saxon -youth is proverbially shy of enthusiasm of the lips -lest it be suspected of freshness, as the current -phrase is. "I wonder," he added a moment later -as he stood with his back to the wood fire, straightening -his sturdy shoulders against the mantel-piece, -"if he really believes all the things he preaches. -I'd just like to know for curiosity. I suppose he -has to preach them even if he doesn't or else be -fired out, and he compromises with himself for -the mental reservation by the argument that if he -were out of it altogether, his usefulness and -occupation, like Othello's, would be gone. That's the -way clergymen must have to argue nowadays, or -there wouldn't be many of them left at the old -stands." -</p> - -<p> -Though he spoke colloquially, and with an assurance -which dispensed with reverence of treatment, -Paul intended to express genuine interest and -even sympathy. Knowing that his father's ideas -on religious subjects were fundamentally liberal, -perhaps he was not averse to shocking him in a -mere matter of form. Mr. Howard was silent a -moment, then replied: -</p> - -<p> -"In every walk of life it is necessary, from time -to time, to sacrifice non-essentials for the sake of -the essentials. As in everything else, so in -religion. The world moves; opinions change. Human -society cannot prosper without religion, and human -society never needed its influence more than to-day. -Sensible religion, of course." -</p> - -<p> -"All sensible men have the same religion. What -is that? A sensible man never tells." Paul was -quoting. He had heard his father more than once -in his comments on the mysteries of life utter this -Delphic observation. He laughed sweetly and -fearlessly. -</p> - -<p> -Mr. Howard understood his son. They were -good comrades. He was aware that though Paul -felt free to jest at his remarks, his boy respected -his intellect and would ponder what he said. -</p> - -<p> -"We agree about these things in the main, my -dear Paul. If one were to go out on the -housetops and proclaim one's scepticism concerning -some of the supernatural dogmas which the mass -of the people find comfort in, how would it benefit -religion? The world will find out soon enough -that it has been mistaken. But we can neither of -us afford to forget that the security of human -society is dependent on religion. One always -comes back to that in the end." -</p> - -<p> -"It is good for the masses," said Paul, with a -chuckle. "We, as the present lords of creation—captains -of industry—should encourage it for the -protection of our railroads, mines, and other -glorious monopolies. That is one of the arguments -with which the truly great salved their consciences -before the French revolution." -</p> - -<p> -Mr. Howard frowned slightly. He knew that -Paul was only half in earnest, but the reference -to socialism was repellent to him, even though it -was rhetorical. Why was he the possessor of -twenty millions? Because he had been wiser and -more long-sighted than his competitors, because he -had used his clear brains to better advantage than -other men year after year, planning boldly and -executing thoroughly, making few mistakes and -taking advantage of every opportunity. Because -he had fostered his powers, and controlled his -weaknesses. He was rich because, like a true -American, he had conquered circumstances and -moulded them for his own and the world's profit. -Inequalities? Must there not always be inequalities -so long as some men were strong and others -weak, some courageous and others shiftless? And -as for charity, God knew he was willing to do—was -trying to do his part to help those who could -not or would not help themselves, and to encourage -all meritorious undertakings for the relief of -human society. -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, we must humor the masses in this as in -a thousand matters, and our protection is their -protection. I am not disturbed by your -insinuation, Paul. Ignorance and sloth and folly and -false sentiment would bankrupt mankind in three -generations if it were not for the modern captains -of industry, as you call them." -</p> - -<p> -Mr. Howard spoke somewhat sternly, as one -stating a proposition which was irrefutable and -yet was sometimes overlooked by an ungrateful -world. "Similarly," he continued, "it is one -thing to be unorthodox in one's opinions and to -discard as childish articles of faith to which the -multitude adhere, another to deny the reality and -force of religion. So, though I am a free thinker, -if you will, I regard it as no inconsistency to -uphold the hands of the church. On the contrary, -every thoughtful man must realize that without -religion of some sort the human race would become -brutes again." -</p> - -<p> -"And your form is to present fifty or a hundred -thousand to a hospital or a college whenever -you happen to feel like it, which every clergyman -will admit to be practical Christianity. You -certainly give away barrels of money, father." -</p> - -<p> -"I can afford to." Mr. Howard was pleasantly -but not vain-gloriously aware that he had given -away a million dollars in the last three years. "In -what better way can I share my profits with the -public than by entrusting it to trained educators -and philanthropists to spend for the common -good? A great improvement, young man, on the -theory that every man jack of us should be -limited to the same wage, and originality, grit, and -enterprise be pushed off the face of the earth." -</p> - -<p> -"Nevertheless it is tolerably pleasant to be your -son," said Paul, smiling brightly from his post -against the mantel-piece. -</p> - -<p> -"Yes. But you have responsibilities as my son, -and pray do not imagine that I am blind to them. -I have made the money." He paused a moment, -for he was looking back along the vista of -the years and recalling the succession of shrewd -undertakings by which his property had grown -from a few thousand dollars to imposing wealth. -"I have made the money, and it is for you to keep -and increase it—yes, increase it, remember—but -to spend it freely and wisely. And if you ask me -what is wisely, I can only answer that this is a -problem for your generation. If you will only use the -same pains in trying to solve it as I have in -accumulating the money, you will succeed. You are -fond, Paul, of exploiting radical propositions, of -which you at heart disapprove, in order to test my -self-control. Here is something, young man, to -chasten your spirit and keep your imagination busy." -</p> - -<p> -"You see through me, father, don't you? But -you'll admit that my familiarity with radical -doctrines is a good sign, especially since I recognize -their fallacies, for it shows that I sometimes think. -Yes, it is a great responsibility, but I wouldn't -exchange—not even with Gordon Perry." -</p> - -<p> -"With whom? Ah, yes, I remember; the attorney -who was on the foot-ball team with you at -Harvard. And why should you consider changing -places with him?" -</p> - -<p> -"Because the mere question of dollars and cents -interests him so little." -</p> - -<p> -"Ah! You have been employing him lately, I -believe?" -</p> - -<p> -"Yes. I like to throw what I can in his way. -He understands his business. We lunched -together this morning. I enjoy his humor, his -independence and his common sense, and at the same -time his enthusiasm." -</p> - -<p> -"Concerning what?" -</p> - -<p> -"Most things except the price of railroad shares -and the condition of the money market. We -didn't refer to them once." Paul paused with a -serio-comic sigh. Mr. Howard knocked the white -ash from his cigar and responded: -</p> - -<p> -"One of the reasons for sending you to college -was that you need not be confined in your -conversation to the money market. Another that you -should be free in life to do as you chose." -</p> - -<p> -"Don't be alarmed, father. You know well -enough that nothing would induce me not to follow -your lead. Give up business? I couldn't. I -love the power and excitement of it. It's bred in -the bone, I suppose." -</p> - -<p> -The banker's eyes kindled with pride in the son -of his heart. -</p> - -<p> -"And it's because I know I'm myself that a -fellow like Don Perry fascinates me," pursued -Paul. "There's no nonsense in him. He objects -to cranks and mere psalm-singers as much as I do. -But he's absorbed in the social problems of the -day—legislative questions, philanthropic questions, -all the burning questions. 'And your young -men shall see visions.' He is one of them. You -will notice that I have not forgotten my Bible -altogether, father." -</p> - -<p> -"We have, and to burn, reformers who see -visions and proclaim them from platforms which -have no underpinnings. What we need are -reformers who will study and think before they -speak, and not seek to destroy the existing structure -of society before they have provided a serviceable -substitute." -</p> - -<p> -"In other words, you are prepared to part with -a portion of your worldly possessions, but you -object to wholesale confiscation?" Having -indulged in this pleasantry Paul took from the table -a packet of papers which he had brought with -him, as though to show that he had not forgotten -business concerns. "Speaking of the existing -structure of society," he continued, "Don and I -got into a religious discussion. That is, I found -myself holding a brief for the proposition, which -I had read somewhere or other, that religion and -capital are in alliance against every-day men and -women, in order to preserve existing social -conditions. Don't look so shocked, father. There are -two sides to every question, and I was curious to -see how Don would look at this." -</p> - -<p> -"And how did he look at it?" inquired Mr. Howard, -coldly, seeing that he was expected to -display interest. -</p> - -<p> -"He wouldn't deny that there was some truth -in the proposition, but he agreed with you, father, -that whatever else is true or false, the world will -never be able to dispense with religion. But he -says, too, that it must be sensible religion. Just -what you said, isn't it? And when two such intelligent -individuals come to the same conclusion, it -is time for a sceptic like myself to take off his hat -to the church. You heard me just now concede -that the Rev. Mr. Prentiss is not at all a bad -lot." -</p> - -<p> -"Paul, you are sometimes incorrigible. You -have common sense when it comes to action, I -admit, but you have a perverse fondness for -harboring all the philosophical sewage of the age. I -trust that your friend Perry brought you up with -a round turn." -</p> - -<p> -"Oh, he did," said Paul, with mock meekness, -as he sorted his documents. "We must get to -work or else I'd tell you about it. He was very -interesting. As to aggregations of capital, Don -was highly conservative too. He recognizes that -they will last far beyond our time. For a seeker -after ultimate truth, I thought that extremely -reasonable." Whereupon Paul indulged in a laugh -of bubbling, melodious mirth. -</p> - -<p> -Mr. Howard made no comment, but threw the -butt of his cigar into the fire-place with the -emphasis of one expelling folly by the scruff of the -neck, and composed his features for business. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap10"></a></p> - -<h3> -X -</h3> - -<p> -Constance consented to be taught typewriting -and stenography at the expense of -Mrs. Randolph Wilson. She decided that to -refuse an offer which would enable her presently to -become self-supporting would be false pride. She -acknowledged as sound, under her present circumstances, -Mr. Prentiss's assertion that it was no less -the duty of the unfortunate to accept bounty within -proper limits than of the prosperous to give. She -consented also at his instance to call upon her -benefactress. -</p> - -<p> -Any encouragement on the part of Constance -would have induced Mr. Prentiss to raise a -subscription to pay off the second mortgage on the -house incurred by Emil, and thus provide her with -a home. But at the first hint of such a thing she -shook her head decisively. A very different -thought was in her mind. Emil was still alive and -liable for the bills which he had incurred for the -expenses of the canvass, but she felt that the six -hundred dollars which he had withheld from his -client as an enforced loan must be paid at once or -the good name of her children would be tarnished. -His appropriation of this money on the eve of his -disappearance was damning in its suggestion; but -she had thankfully adopted and was clinging -tenaciously to the explanation proffered by one of the -easy-going and good-natured co-tenants of the office -occupied by her husband, that the money had been -borrowed to carry out a speculation, and that Emil -had meant to return it. Did not the broker's -report of the purchase and sale, found among the -papers in Emil's desk, support this? She realized -fully that from the mere stand-point of legal -responsibility his motive was immaterial. But with -her knowledge of his characteristics and of the past -she felt that she had the right to insist on the -theory that he had been led astray by sanguine -anticipations which, as usual, had been -disappointed. His conduct had been weak and -miserable, and exposed him to obloquy, but it was not -the same as deliberate theft. As a mother, she -was solicitous to treat the transaction as a loan -and to repay it without delay. The world might -not discriminate, but for herself and for the -children the distinction was essential. -</p> - -<p> -Having been informed how matters stood, and -that there was probably still some small value left -in the house over and above the two mortgages, -she thought she saw an opportunity to discharge -this vital obligation. Accordingly, when she found -that the clergyman was still considering means for -rescuing her home, she disclosed her theory and -her purpose. -</p> - -<p> -"My husband borrowed that money, Mr. Prentiss. -He expected to be able to return it. I am -sure of this. It was just like him. People think -it was something worse because of what was in the -newspapers. But, guilty as he was, he would not -have done that. This being so, I am anxious to -have the mortgages foreclosed, or whatever is -necessary done, and to have what is left returned -to the woman whose money he borrowed. It was -six hundred dollars, and there is the interest. You -told me you thought there would be over five hundred -left, if the mortgagee was disposed to be reasonable." -</p> - -<p> -Although Mr. Prentiss may have had doubts -whether Emil Stuart was entitled to the distinction -drawn by his wife, he understood and admired her -solicitude. "I see," he said. "I am told that the -value of real estate in the neighborhood of your -house has improved somewhat, and that you ought -to get at least five hundred dollars. But in any -event the money which your husband borrowed -shall be returned. You need give yourself no -further concern as to this; I will see that it is -done." -</p> - -<p> -Constance shook her head again. "It wouldn't -be the same if anyone else were to pay it," she said -directly. -</p> - -<p> -"So it would not. You are right," he replied -with equal promptness, admitting the accuracy of -her perception, which had confounded his too glib -generosity. "Unless you paid it, you would feel -that you had no right to consider that the money -had been borrowed." -</p> - -<p> -"Though I am certain of it." -</p> - -<p> -"Precisely—precisely. I understood what you -desired, and it was unintelligent of me to bungle." A -confession of lack of intelligence by Mr. Prentiss -signified not merely deliberate self-mortification, -but was offered as a tribute to the mental -quality of his visitor. He had chosen a word -which would have been wasted on or misinterpreted -by the ordinary applicant for counsel, that he -might let her perceive that he was alive to the -nicety of her spiritual intuitions. They were at -his house—in his comfortable, attractive library—and -he understood now that the object of her call -had been conscientious eagerness to discharge this -debt. There was nothing for him to do but -acquiesce in her requirements, and to thank God for -this manifestation of grace. This quiet, simple -directness, which separated the right from the -wrong with unswerving precision, proceeding from -the lips and eyes of this pale but interesting woman -in faded garb, was fresh and invigorating testimony -to the vitality of the human soul exposed to -the stress of sordid, workaday realities and -unassisted by the choicer blessings of civilization. -</p> - -<p> -Mr. Prentiss pressed her hand with a new -warmth as he bade her good-by. "You must come -to see me often," he said. "Not for your needs -only, but for mine. It helps me to talk with you. -And I shall keep my eye on you and see that you -get work." -</p> - -<p> -As the upshot of this conversation, Constance -surrendered her house to the mortgagee and -received six hundred and fifty dollars for her -interest in the equity. The small sum remaining after -the claim of Emil's client had been satisfied was -supplemented presently by the sale of that portion -of the furniture unavailable in the tenement into -which she moved, so that she had about a hundred -dollars saved from the wreck of her former -fortunes. The tenement consisted of two sunny -rooms in a new apartment house for people of -humble means, built by a real estate investor with -progressive business instincts from plans suggested -by the Home Beautifying Society of Benham, an -aggregation of philanthropic spirits, of which -Mrs. Wilson was one of the vice-presidents. Here light, -the opportunity for cleanliness, and some modern -fixtures, including a fire-escape, were obtainable at -a moderate rental; and while the small suites were -monotonous from their number and uniformity, -their occupants could fitly regard them as a -paradise compared with the old-fashioned homes for -the poor supervised solely by the dull mercy of -unenlightened landlords. Though this was a -business enterprise, the owner had felt at liberty even -to give some artistic touches to the exterior, and -altogether it could be said that the investment -represented a model hive of modern workingmen's -homes from the point of view of Benham's, and -hence American philanthropic commercial -aspiration. The structure—Lincoln Chambers, it was -called—was on the confines of the poorer section -of the city where, owing to the spread of trade, the -expansion of the homes of the people was forced -further to the south. From two of her windows -Constance looked out on vacant lands but half -redeemed from the grasp of nature, a prospect -littered with the unsightly disorder of a neighborhood -in the throes of confiscation by a metropolis; -but the mongrel character of the vicinity was to -her more than atoned for by the fresh air and the -wide expanse of horizon. Her home was on the -eighth story—there were ten stories in all—and on -the roof there was an arrangement of space for -drying clothes which seemed to bring her much -closer to the impenetrable blue of the sky. As -under the influence of this communion she gave -rein to introspection and fancy, her thoughts -harbored for the moment chiefly thankfulness. The -stress of her plight had been relieved. Discriminating -kindness had enabled her to get a fresh hold -on life without loss of her self-respect. What -mattered it that her social lot must be obscure, and -that she had become one of the undistinguishable -many whose identity was lost in this towering -combination of small and uniform tenements? She -had still a roof over her children's heads and a -legitimate prospect of being able to support them -without accepting the bitter bread of charity. Yes, -she had become one of the humblest of human -strugglers, but her abounding interest in these two -dear possessions made not only her duty plain but -her opportunity inspiring and almost golden. The -mortification and anguish of the past she would -never be able to forget entirely, but she would -make the most of this new chance for world-service -and happiness. -</p> - -<p> -It had been necessary to sign some papers in -order to convey her interest in the equity of her -house, and she went for the purpose to the office -of the mortgagee's lawyer. He was a young man, -somewhat over thirty, with a noticeably frank face -and lucid utterance and kind, intelligent eyes. As -he handed her the six hundred and fifty dollars it -occurred to her that she would like to employ him -to satisfy Emil's obligation. She preferred not to -have a personal interview with the creditor lest -she be obliged to listen to recriminations against -her husband, and she was loth to bother Mr. Prentiss. -So she broached the matter, stating briefly -that it was a debt which her husband had intended -to pay before his departure. She had already -discovered when the papers were signed that the -attorney was aware that she had been deserted, and -neither did she supply nor did he seek enlightenment -beyond the bare explanation offered. Nevertheless, -it was obvious to Constance, despite his -professional reserve, that he was alive to the -import of the transaction for which she was employing -him, and that it had inspired in him more than -a mere business interest. There was a gentle -deference in his manner which seemed to suggest -that he knew he was charged with a delicate -mission and that he would fulfil it scrupulously. She -liked the straightforward simplicity of his address, -which was both emphasized and illuminated by -the intelligent, amiable glint of his eyes which -indicated independence and humor, as well as -probity. As she rose to go, Constance realized -that she had forgotten his name, and was on the -point of opening the receipt for the money which -he had given her, in order to ascertain it, when -he reached out and taking some cards from one -of the pigeon-holes of his desk handed them to her. -</p> - -<p> -"I shall write to you the result of my interview, -Mrs. Stuart, and send you a written discharge. -Here are a few of my business cards. I hope that -none of your neighbors will need the assistance -of a lawyer, but if they do, that is my profession, -and I intend to do the best I can for my clients." -</p> - -<p> -There was a pleasant earnestness in his tone -which saved his speech from the effect of mere -solicitation. It seemed to Constance as though he -had said not merely that he was eager to get on, -but that he stood ready to help those who like -herself had need to bring their small affairs to a -sympathetic and upright counsellor. She had asked -him previously what his charge would be for -securing a release of the claim against Emil. He had -hesitated for a moment and she had been apprehensive -lest he might say that it would be nothing, -but he had replied that it would be three dollars. -</p> - -<p> -She glanced at the cards and read the name—Gordon -Perry, Attorney and Counsellor-at-Law, -144 Baker St. Their interview had been in an -inner office—a room of moderate size, near the -roof of a modern building, with a fine view, -eclipsing that of her own flat, and furnished, besides a -couple of chairs, with rows of law books and a few -large photographs of legal celebrities. On the -way out she passed through the general office, -where there were more chairs, several of them -occupied by visitors who had been waiting for her -interview to come to an end, more shelves of books, -and two or three desks, at one of which a woman -type-writer was sitting at work. The click of the -machine sounded melodiously in Constance's ears, -and she turned her glance in that direction, in -wistful anticipation of the time when she would have -similar employment. On her arrival her gaze had -been introspective, but now that her errand was -over she felt the inclination to observe external -things. As she closed the outer door she saw that -the glass panel bore a painted inscription similar -to that of the card—Gordon Perry, Attorney and -Counsellor-at-Law. She reflected that he had been -courteous and sympathetic to her, and she felt -sure that he was to be trusted, notwithstanding the -rude shock which Emil's perfidy had given to her -faith in her own powers of discrimination. There -are some dispositions which are turned to gall and -forever charged with suspicion by a great shock -to love and faith as sweet milk turns to vinegar -at the clap of a thunder-storm. There are others -whose horizon is cleared by the bitterness of the -blow, and who, partly from humility, partly from -an instinctive revolt against the doctrine of despair, -readjust their perspectives and harbor still the -god-like belief that they can know good from evil. -</p> - -<p> -Preliminary to beginning her lessons, Constance -had still her call to make on Mrs. Wilson. The -new fashionable quarter of Benham, beyond the -river Nye, was scarcely more than a name to her, -though, especially in the early days of her -marriage, she had from time to time included this in -her Sabbath saunterings with her husband, and -she remembered Emil's having pointed out in -terms of irony the twin mansions of Mr. Carleton -Howard and his sister in process of erection. She -had not felt envious, but when Emil, after -inveighing against the extravagance of millionaires, -had with characteristic inconsistency, as they stood -gazing at the walls of these modern palaces, -asserted that he intended some day to have a house -of this kind, she had wondered what it would be -like, and had contrasted for a moment the lives of -the dwellers in this locality with her own, with a -sudden appreciation of the power of material -circumstances and a wistful curiosity to be translated -into an experience which should include white-aproned -maids, drawing-room draperies, and a -private equipage as daily accessories. She had -silently wondered, too, pondering without abetting -her husband's caustic cue, how this contrast was to -be reconciled with what she had been taught of -American notions of social uniformity and the -subordination of the unnecessary vanities and -splendor of life to spiritual considerations. It was -puzzling, and yet the manifestations of these -discrepancies were apparently in good repute and -becoming more obvious as the city grew in -population and importance. -</p> - -<p> -It is the personal equation in this world which -forces truths most clearly upon our attention. So -it was that Constance on her way to Mrs. Wilson's -was fully alive to the fact—not bitterly, but -philosophically and equably—that, despite the theory -of democratic social institutions which she had -imbibed, actual conditions in Benham were repeating -the old-world distinctions between the powerful -and the lowly, the rich and the impecunious. There -was no blinking the knowledge that she was living -obscurely in a flat on the lookout for the bare -necessaries of existence, while the woman she was -going to see was a woman of wealth and importance, -to whom she was beholden for the opportunity -of a new start. Obviously, the American -experiment had not succeeded in doing away with -the distinctions between rich and poor, though -patriotic school-books had given her to understand -that there were none, or rather that such as existed -were spiritual and in favor of people of humble -means. Constance could be sardonic if she chose, -but like most women she had little taste for irony. -On the other hand, she had a yearning to see things -clearly which her misfortunes had only served to -intensify. -</p> - -<p> -As she entered Mrs. Wilson's house a new emotion -superseded this consciousness of contrast. She -had expected to be somewhat edified by the decorations -and upholsteries, and had felt a mild curiosity -regarding them. But she was wholly unprepared -for the superb and spacious surroundings in which -she found herself. She walked bewildered -through the august hall behind the solemn, fastidious -man-servant, who, when she had disclosed her -name and errand, ushered her into the reception-room, -which served as an ante-chamber to the vista -of elegant connecting drawing-rooms. While she -waited for Mrs. Wilson she sat gazing with -surprise and admiration at the costly and elaborate -furnishings and ornaments. It was not that such -things were beyond the experience of her -imagination at least, for, though she had never been -abroad, she felt familiar, through books, with the -appearance of splendid houses. She had seen -pictures of them, and was not without definite -impressions of grandeur. But she had not expected -to behold them realized in the social life of -Benham. If the discovery was, spiritually speaking, -a slight shock, it was a far greater source of -delight. Neat as wax herself, but confined both by -poverty and early associations to sober hues, she -found in the close presence of these bright, seductive, -and artistic effects a sort of revelation of the -power of beauty which thrilled her deliciously. -Here was the culmination of the movement in -ęsthetic expression of which, as revealed in shop -windows and on women's backs, she had for some -time been vaguely aware, but in which she had -been forbidden by the rigor of her life to participate. -The full meaning of this as an ally to human -happiness now burst upon her, and gave her a new -joy, though it emphasized the lowliness of her own -station. -</p> - -<p> -The aspect and greeting of Mrs. Wilson gave -the crowning touch to her pleasure by adding the -human complement to the situation. She was facing -a smiling, gracious personality whose features, -bearing, and gown alike were fascinating and -distinguished. Constance felt no inclination to be -obsequious. Her native birthright of unconscious -ease stood her in good stead. At the same time -she desired to appear grateful. She had come to -thank the lady of the house, and it was obvious -that the lady of the house was a superior -individual. What a melodious voice she had, and what -a pretty dress! How becoming her crinkly, -grizzled hair! What an interesting expression, what -a sympathetic light in her eyes! Constance noted -these points with womanlike avidity during their -interchange of greetings. Mrs. Wilson asked her -to sit down. -</p> - -<p> -"I have heard all about you from Mr. Prentiss, -Mrs. Stuart," she said, evidently intending by this -comprehensive remark to obviate for her visitor -the necessity of recurring to a painful past. "He -tells me that you have shown great courage. He -tells me also that you have left your house and -moved into Lincoln Chambers—the new dormitory -built under the supervision of our Home -Beautifying Society." -</p> - -<p> -"Yes; it is very comfortable. We get a glimpse -of the country from our windows." -</p> - -<p> -"I know. That is a conspicuous factor in its -favor. Light and fresh air, good plumbing, pure -milk, a regular, even though small, supply of -ice—these are some of the invaluable aids to health and -happiness for all of us, and especially for those -upon whom the stress of life falls most heavily. -You can command all of these where you are. You -have two children, I believe?" -</p> - -<p> -"Yes. A boy of seven and a girl of six." -</p> - -<p> -"They will be a great comfort to you." -</p> - -<p> -"I do not know what I should have done without them." -</p> - -<p> -The pride of maternity encouraged by courtesy -drew from Constance this simple avowal of the -heart. Though she was not unconscious that -Mrs. Wilson's friendliness was imbued with patronage, -it was sweet to open her heart for a moment to -another woman—and to a woman like this. -</p> - -<p> -"And you have planned to pursue type-writing -as an occupation?" -</p> - -<p> -"Yes; I begin my lessons to-morrow, owing to -you. I came to thank you for your generosity. It -was——" -</p> - -<p> -"I understand. I am very glad that there was -something I could do for you. I was interested -when Mr. Prentiss spoke to me concerning your -necessities and your zeal; I am even more -interested now that we have met. I am told by those -best informed that there is steady employment for -accomplished stenographers. It may be that my -own private secretary—a woman who, like -yourself, had her own way to make—will be able to -send for you presently. My daughter is to be -married before long, and there will be errands to -be run and things to be done down-town and in -the house, if you would not object to making -yourself generally useful." -</p> - -<p> -"I shall be grateful for any employment which -you can give me." -</p> - -<p> -"I shall remember." Mrs. Wilson smiled -sweetly. She had felt her way decorously, but was -pleased to find an absence of false pride in her -visitor, who was obviously a gentle woman, though -lacking the advantages of wardrobe and social -prestige—as she reflected, a sort of Burne-Jones -type of severe ęstheticism, with a common-sense -individuality of her own, and an agreeable voice. -"It will be a little discouraging at first, I dare say, -until you acquire facility in your work; but I feel -certain that in a short time you will be not only -self-supporting but happy. A woman with two -young children can really live on very little if she -is provident and discerning. It is the man who -eats. Have you ever studied the comparative -nutritive properties of foods?" -</p> - -<p> -Constance shook her head. -</p> - -<p> -"I will send you a little pamphlet in regard to -this. Many Americans eat more meat than they -require; more Americans are wasteful, and -ignorant of food values. Housewives of moderate -means who approach this subject in a serious spirit -can learn how to nourish adequately the human -body at a far less cost than their unenlightened -sisters. Cereals, macaroni, milk, bread and -butter, cheese—they are all nutritive and easy to -prepare. If I may say so, you appear to me just the -woman to appreciate these modern scientific truths, -and to make the most of them." -</p> - -<p> -It seemed to Constance that she had never heard -anyone speak more alluringly. What was said -interested her, and she was pleased by the flattering -personal allusion at the close, but every other -effect was subordinated for her at the moment to -the charm of expression, or, indeed, to Mrs. Wilson's -whole magnetic personality as shown in looks -and words. She had never before come in personal -contact with anything just like it, and it -fascinated her. An admiration of this sort would -have promptly generated envy and dislike in some -women, but in Constance it awoke interest and -ambition. Although she felt that she had stayed -long enough, she was loth to go, so absorbed was -she by the consummate graciousness and sympathetic -fluency, by the effective gown and elegant -personal details of her hostess. She rose at last, -and, impelled to make some acknowledgment of -her emotions, said, wistfully, yet in nowise -abashed: -</p> - -<p> -"What a beautiful house this is! I have never -seen anything like it before. It must be a great -pleasure to live here." -</p> - -<p> -The frank artlessness of this tribute was grateful -to Mrs. Wilson. "Yes, we think it beautiful. -We have tried to make it so. Would you like -to walk through some of the other rooms?" -</p> - -<p> -Constance was glad to accept this invitation. -As they proceeded Mrs. Wilson let the apartments -speak for themselves, adding only an occasional -phrase of enlightenment. She was pleased with -her visitor, and divined that words were not -needful to produce the proper impression. Constance -walked as in a trance, admiring unreservedly in -thought the splendor, elegance, and diversity of -the upholsteries and decoration, admiring also the -graceful magnetic woman beside her whose every -gesture and intonation seemed attuned to the -exquisite surroundings. As they parted Constance -said: -</p> - -<p> -"This has been a great pleasure to me." She -added, "I had no idea that people here—in this -country—had such beautiful homes, such beautiful -things." -</p> - -<p> -There was no repugnance in the confession, but -a mere statement of fact which suggested -satisfaction rather than umbrage at the discovery, -although the ethical doubt of the relevancy of these -splendors to American ideals was a part of her -sub-consciousness. Mrs. Wilson's response gave -the finishing touch to this passive doubt. That lady -had recognized that she was not dealing with dross -but a sensitive human soul, and had refrained from -didactic utterances. Yet she felt it her duty, or -rather her duty and her mission combined, to take -advantage of this opportunity to sow the seed of -culture in this rich but unploughed soil by a deft -and genuine illustration. -</p> - -<p> -"The spirit which has accomplished what you -see here can be introduced into any home, -Mrs. Stuart, and work marvels in the cause of beauty, -health, and decency," she said with incisive sweetness, -her head a little on one side. "Because one -is poor it is not necessary to have or foster ugly, -inartistic, and sordid surroundings. A little -thought, a little reverence for ęsthetic truth will -not enable those of restricted means to live in -luxury, but it will serve to keep beauty enshrined -in the hearts of the humblest household—beauty -and her hand-maidens, cleanliness, hygiene, and -that subtle sense of the eternal fitness of things -which neither neglects to use nor irreligiously -mismates God's glorious colors. We as a people have -been loth to recognize the value of artistic merit -as an element of the highest civilization. Until -recently we have been content to cultivate morality -at the expense of ęsthetic feeling, and have only -just begun to realize that that type of virtue which -disdains or is indifferent to beauty is like salt -without savor. There is no reason why in its way your -home—your apartment—should not be as faithful -to the spirit of beauty as mine. Do you understand -me? Do I make myself clear?" Her -mobile face was vibrant with the ardor of proselytism. -</p> - -<p> -Constance looked at her eagerly. "I think I -understand," she said. "But," she added, "I -might not have understood unless I had seen this -house—unless I had seen and talked with you." She -paused an instant, for the vision of her own -tenement as a thing of beauty, alluring as was the -opportunity, had to run the gauntlet of her -common sense. Then she asked a practical question. -"If one had aptitude and experience, I can see that -much might be accomplished. But how is one with -neither to be sure of being right?" -</p> - -<p> -Conscious of these honest, thoughtful eyes—eyes, -too, in which she felt that she discerned latent -charming possibilities—Mrs. Wilson had an -inspiration which satisfied herself fully as she -thought of it later. -</p> - -<p> -"There is often the great difficulty—also the -obstacle to those who labor in that vineyard. But -in your case I am sure that you have only to search -your own heart in order to find the spirit of beauty. -After all, the artistic sense is fundamentally -largely a matter of character." -</p> - -<p> -Constance went on her way with winged feet. -She felt uplifted by the interview. Her starved -senses had been refreshed, and her imagination -imbued with a new outlook on life, which though -foreign, if not inimical, to some of her past -associations, she already perceived to be vital and -stimulating. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap11"></a></p> - -<h3> -XI -</h3> - -<p> -Three months later, on a rare day in early -June, Miss Lucille Wilson was made Mrs. Clarence -Waldo, in the presence of a fashionable -company. Journalistic social tittle-tattle had -engendered such lively public interest that the -neighborhood of St. Stephen's was beset by a -throng of sight-seers—chiefly random women—who -for two hours previous to the ceremony occupied -the adjacent sidewalks and every spot which -would command a glimpse of the bride and guests. -A force of policemen guarded the church against -the incursion of the multitude. Yet perhaps the -patient waiters felt rewarded for their pains, -inasmuch as the heroine of the occasion, after -alighting from her carriage, stood for an instant at the -entrance to the canopy before proceeding, as -though she were willing to give the world a brief -opportunity to behold her loveliness and grandeur. -For those with pocket cameras there was time -enough for a snap-shot before she was lost to -sight. -</p> - -<p> -Within the church were gay silks and nodding -bonnet plumes and imposing formalities. Six -maids, each wearing as a memento an exquisite -locket encrusted with diamonds, and six ushers with -scarf-pins of a pearl set in a circle of tiny rubies, -escorted the bride to the altar, where the Rev. Mr. Prentiss -and two assistant priests were in attendance. -When the happy pair had been made man -and wife a choir of expensive voices chanted -melodiously "O Perfect Love," and the procession -streamed down the aisle on its way to the -wedding-breakfast. This was served by a New York -caterer on little tables with all the gorgeous nicety -of which he was capable. Though June is a month -when most delicious things are to be had, an effort -had evidently been made to procure delicacies -which were not in season. The effect of a jam of -guests elbowing for their food, as is usual on such -occasions, would have lacerated Mrs. Wilson's -sensibilities. Her house was large, so she had been -able to invite her entire social acquaintance -without crowding her rooms, and her instructions had -been that there should be numerous deft waiters -in order that each guest might come under the -benign influence of personal supervision. -Accordingly everyone was pleased and in good spirits -unless it were the bridegroom, and the doubt in -his case was suggested only by the impassiveness -of his countenance at a time when it should -properly have been the mirror of his heart's joy. -Perhaps he had not fully recovered from the farewell -dinner given him by his stag friends, as newspaper -women are apt to designate a bachelor's intimates, -where he had seen fit to express his emotion by -drinking champagne to the point when he became -musically mellow, a curious and singularly -Anglo-Saxon prelude to the holy rite of matrimony. -Nevertheless, he was dignified if unemotional; and -his frock coat, built for the occasion, his creased -trousers, and mouse-colored spats were irreproachable. -</p> - -<p> -When the hour came for the bride and groom -to depart there were so many sight-seers about the -door that the police had to keep the public at bay -in order to afford the happy pair a clear passage -to the carriage; and also to give the blithe young -men and women ample scope for the discharge of -the rice and slippers which convention prescribes -shall be hurled at those who set forth on their -honeymoon in the blaze of social distinction. For -a moment the fun was furious, and, the contagion -spreading to the spectators, a cheer partly of -sympathy, partly of derision broke forth as the -spirited horses, bewildered by the shower of -missiles, bounded away toward the station. Two -hatless, exhilarated youths chased the retreating -victims down the street, one of whom skilfully threw -an old shoe so that it remained on the top of the -vehicle. When the young couple entered the -special Pullman car reserved for them the newsboys -were already offering papers containing full -accounts of the wedding ceremony, including a list -of the guests and of the presents with their donors, -large pictures of the bride and groom, and diverse -cuts reproductive of the salient features of what -one of the scribes designated as the most imposing -nuptials in Benham's social history. -</p> - -<p> -And so they were married. And sorry as she -was to lose her daughter, Mrs. Wilson was thankful -to have it all over, and to be able to settle down -once more and unreservedly to the schemes for -social regeneration which had shared with maternal -affection the energies of her adult mind. To -a certain extent these interests had been rivals, -unconsciously and involuntarily so, but it has already -been intimated that Lucille was not the kind of -girl her mother had intended her to be, and lacked -the sympathies which might have made Mrs. Wilson's -interests virtually one. To give Lucille all -which a modern parent could give and to see her -happily married had been her paramount thought. -This was now accomplished. The child had received -every advantage which wealth could supply, -and every stimulus which her own intelligence -could suggest. Lucille had not chosen the husband -she would have picked out for her. Still Lucille -loved him, and since fate had so ordained it, and -they had become husband and wife, she was -determined to be pleased, and she felt in a measure -relieved. The main responsibility was at an end, -and she could now enjoy her daughter's married -state, and was free to give almost undivided -thought to her social responsibilities. -</p> - -<p> -Accordingly on the days which followed the -wedding Mrs. Wilson shut herself up in her study, -and with the aid of her private secretary proceeded -to dispose of her accumulated correspondence, and -to put her personal affairs to rights. June was the -fag end of the social year. Many of those who -had been energetic in social enterprises since the -autumn were now a little jaded and on the eve of -departure for the country, the Lakes, the Atlantic -coast or Europe, in search of that respite from the -full pressure of modern life which all who can -afford it in our large cities now endeavor to procure -for themselves. Nevertheless it was the best time -to look the field over and to sow the seeds of new -undertakings by broaching them to those whose -support she desired by a short note of suggestion -which could be mulled over during the summer. -It was not the season to extract definite promises -from allies or to enlist new recruits, but essentially -that for exploiting ideas which might bear fruit -later when the brains and sensibilities of Benham's -best element had been rested and refreshed. -Mrs. Wilson had numerous charities, clubs in -furtherance of knowledge and classes promoting hygienic -or ęsthetic development to be pondered. For -some of these—the struggling annual charities—methods -like a fair or theatricals must be devised -in order to raise fresh annual funds. The -progressive courses of the past winter, such as the -practical talks to young mothers, with live babies -as object-lessons, and lectures on the relaxation of -the muscles, must be superseded by others no less -instructive and alluring. Then again new blood -must be introduced into the various coteries which -worked for the regeneration and enlightenment of -the poor to make good the losses caused by -matrimony or fickleness, and new schemes originated for -retaining the attention of the meritorious persons -to be benefited. In this last connection the idea -of a course which should emphasize the importance -to every woman of learning something on -which she could fall back for self-support, -suggested by Mrs. Stuart's plight, now recurred to -her as timely. And besides these public interests -there were the—perhaps more absorbing because -more flattering—numerous personal demands on -her sympathies and time made by other women—women -largely of her own, but of every walk. -Here it seemed to her was her most precious -vineyard, for here the opportunity was given for soul -to compass soul in an affinity which blessed both -the giver and the receiver of spiritual benefits. -Sometimes the need which sought her was that of -the sinful woman, eager to rehabilitate herself. -Sometimes that of the friendless, aspiring student -seeking recognition or guidance; but oftener than -any that of the blossoming maid or wife of her -own class whose yearning nature, reaching out to -hers as the flower to the sun and breeze, received -the mysterious quickening which is the essence of -the higher life, and gave to her in return a love -which was like sexual passion in its ardor, but -savoring only of the spirit. If she were thus able -by the unconscious gifts or grace which were in -her to relieve the necessities and attune the -aspirations of these choice—and it seemed to her that -often the neediest were the choicest—natures, was -it strange that she should cherish and even -cultivate this involuntary power? Mrs. Wilson's -theory in regard to this personal influence was that -it was the grateful product of her allegiance to, -and passion for, beauty so far as she could lay -claim to any merit in the matter. She accepted it -as a heaven-sent and heaven-kissing gift which was -to be rejoiced in and administered as a trust. Since -her talent had turned out to be that of a leader to -point the way by virtue of sympathetic intelligence—or, -to quote her own mental simile, the electric -medium which opened to eager, groping souls the -realm of spirit—was not the mission the most -congenial which could have been offered her, and in -the direct line of her tastes and ambitions? -Consequently her private correspondence with those -who sought counsel and inspiration in return for -adoring fealty was a labor of care as well as of -love. Just the right words must be written, and -the individual personal touch imparted to each -message of criticism, revelation, homely advice, or -mere greeting. To be true to beauty and to -maintain her individuality by the free outpouring of -herself from day to day in felicitous speech of -tongue and pen was her glowing task. In the -pursuance of it she had acquired mannerisms which -were now a part of herself. Her phrases of -endearment, her chirography, her note-paper, her -method of signing herself, had severally a distinction -or peculiarity of their own. All this was now -a second nature; but at the outset she had been -conscious of it, and, though never challenged, she had -once written in vindication in one of her heart-to-heart -missives that the mysterious forces of the -universe through which God talks with man wear not -the garb of conforming plainness, but have each its -special exquisiteness; witness the moon-bathed -summer night, the mountain peak at sunrise, the -lightening glare among the forest pines, the lordly -ocean in its many moods. She had a memory for -birthdays and anniversaries. In the hour of -bereavement her unique words of consolation were -the first to arrive. She was prodigal of flowers, -and her proselytes, knowing her affection for the -rose and the lily, were apt to transform her study -into a bower on the slightest excuse. She never -wrote without flowers within her range of vision. -In the evening of one of these days following -her daughter's wedding, Mrs. Wilson was interrupted -in her correspondence by the entrance of -her maid with the bewildering news that a baby -had been left on the doorsteps, and that a woman, -presumably its mother, had, in the act of stealing -away after ringing the bell, run into the arms of -one of the servants, and was now a prisoner below -stairs. The maid was agitated. Should they send -for a policeman, or what was to be done? The -course to adopt had not been clear to those in -authority in the kitchen, and the solution had been -left to the mistress whose eleemosynary tendencies -had to be taken into account. -</p> - -<p> -An infant, a waif of destiny, left on her doorsteps -at dead of night! There was only one thing -to do, to see the baby, and to talk to the mother, -and for this purpose Mrs. Wilson had both -brought before her in the ante-room where she had -received Constance Stuart. Rumor flies fast, and -by this time a burly, belted policeman had arrived -on the scene and stood towering in the background -behind the quartette of servants, the butler, the -second-man, who had apprehended the woman, a -housemaid who had taken the custody of the child, -and Mrs. Wilson's own maid. Mrs. Wilson surveyed -the group for an instant with the air of a -photographer in search of a correct setting. Then, -with a smile of divination, she said, authoritatively, -"Now, Mary, give the child to its mother, -and when I need anyone, I will ring. You, too, -Mr. Officer, please wait outside. I am sure that -this woman will tell me her story more freely if -we are alone. And, James, bring some tea—the -regular tea-service." -</p> - -<p class="capcenter"> -<a id="img-168"></a> -<img class="imgcenter" src="images/img-168.jpg" alt=""I am sure that this woman will tell me her story"" /> -<br /> -"I am sure that this woman will tell me her story" -</p> - -<p> -As the servants took their departure, Mrs. Wilson -looked again at the woman, whom she had -already perceived to be young and good looking. -She stood holding her baby securely but not -tenderly, with a half-defiant, half-bewildered air, as -of a cat at bay in strange surroundings. But -though her mien expressed a feline dismay, -Mrs. Wilson perceived that she was no desperate -creature of the slums. Nor was she flauntily dressed -like the courtesan of tradition. Her attire—a neat -straw sailor hat, a well-fitting dark blue serge skirt -and serge jacket over a white shirt, and decent -boots indicated some social aptness; and her -features, especially her clever and sensitive, though -somewhat hard, mouth gave the challenge of -intelligence. It was a smart face, one which -suggested quick-wittedness and the habit of -self-reliance, if not self-satisfaction, to the detriment -of sentiment and delicacy. She appeared to -Mrs. Wilson to be about twenty-three, and slightly -shorter than Mrs. Stuart, with a sturdier, less -flexible figure. Her hair was light brown, and -her complexion fair, but she had roving dark eyes -which gave a touch of picturesqueness to what -might be called the matter-of-fact modernness of -her aspect. They were curious eyes, almost Italian -in their hue and calibre, yet in repose coldly -scrutinizing and impassive. Mrs. Wilson appreciated -with a sense of relief that here was no case -of sodden ignorance and degradation; for though -in such instances the remedy was more obvious, she -preferred to be brought in contact with natures -which drew upon her intellectual faculties. She -believed herself modern in her sympathies, and in -her capacity as a philanthropic worker was partial -to the problems with which modern conditions -and modern thought confront struggling human -nature. -</p> - -<p> -"Won't you sit down? And perhaps you would -like to lay your baby on the sofa while we talk and -I make you some tea." -</p> - -<p> -The girl, who was prepared probably for a -sterner method, yielded, after a quiver of uncertainty, -to the fascination of this gracious appeal; -pausing for a brief instant to examine the tiny -face peering from the folds of the knit shawl in -which the child was wrapped, but with a gaze -scientific rather than maternal, as though she were -seeking to trace a likeness or some law of heredity. -Then she sat down and raised her eyes to meet her -entertainer's with a glance bordering on irony, and -which seemed to ask, "Well, what are you going -to do about it?" Mrs. Wilson noticed that her -hands, which lay in her lap, lightly crossed, with -the palms down, were long and efficient-looking, -and that she wore no wedding-ring. -</p> - -<p> -"Is it a boy or a girl?" Mrs. Wilson resumed, -with disarming gentleness. -</p> - -<p> -"A girl." With a contraction of her mouth -which began in a bitter smile and ended against -her will in a gulp, she added, "I didn't intend to -have it. I didn't want to have it. I suppose you've -guessed I'm not a married woman." -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, I guessed that. I see, too, that you are -in trouble, and my sole object in detaining you here -to-night is to give you all the aid in my power. -I'm not seeking to judge or to lecture you, but to -help you." -</p> - -<p> -The girl regarded her with a matter-of-fact -stare, then said, bluntly, "I'd have been all right -now if your servant hadn't nabbed me." -</p> - -<p> -"You mean if you had succeeded in abandoning -your child?" -</p> - -<p> -"Yes. I was earning my living before, and I -could go on. I guess I could have got back my -old place." -</p> - -<p> -"But— Do you mind telling me why you -wished to abandon your baby?" -</p> - -<p> -"That's why. I've just told you. To make a -fresh start." -</p> - -<p> -"I see. And it was chance, I suppose, that you -left it on my door-steps rather than elsewhere?" -</p> - -<p> -"You're Mrs. Randolph Wilson, aren't you?" -</p> - -<p> -"Yes." -</p> - -<p> -"I had read about you in the newspapers, and -all about the wedding, and that you were tremendously -rich. When my child was born I hoped she'd -die; but, as she didn't, I made up my mind that -the best thing I could do was to let you look after -her. But the luck was against me a second time. -I was caught again." She laughed as though her -only concern was to let fate perceive that she had -some sense of humor. -</p> - -<p> -Mrs. Wilson frowned involuntarily. Yet, -though her taste was offended her curiosity was -whetted. -</p> - -<p> -"But wasn't your—wasn't he man enough to -look after you and provide for the child?" -</p> - -<p> -"I didn't tell him. He doesn't know. It wasn't -his fault. That is"—she paused for a moment, -but her expression suggested solicitude lest the -naked truth should be disconcerting rather than -shame—"I took the chance. Neither of us -intended to be married. He travels mostly, and is -here only two or three times a year. What would -he do with a baby anyway?" -</p> - -<p> -The entrance of the butler with the tea things -was opportune. It gave Mrs. Wilson time to -think. Her experience of women of this class had -been considerable. If not invariably penitent, they -had always shown shame or humble-mindedness. -Here was a new specimen, degenerate and -appalling, but interesting to the imagination. -</p> - -<p> -While the servant set the glittering, dainty -silver service on the table at his mistress's side the -girl watched her and him with obvious curiosity -and a mixture of disdain and fascination. Now -and again her roving eyes took in the exquisite -surroundings, then reverted to the face of her -would-be benefactress as to a magnet. It seemed -to be the triumph of a desire not to appear worse -than she really was which made her speak when -they were alone, and Mrs. Wilson, still in search -of inspiration, was busy with the tea-caddy. -</p> - -<p> -"I wasn't going to let her out of my sight until -I knew she was safe." She nervously compressed -the back of one of her hands with the long fingers -of the other in the apparent effort to justify her -course, a consideration to which she was evidently -not accustomed. "Wouldn't she have had a better -home at the expense of the State than any I could -have given her? And there was the chance you -might take a fancy to her and adopt her. She's -less homely than the average new-born young one. -You see I thought everything over, lady. And -next to its dying that seemed to me the best chance -it had for happiness in a best possible world." -</p> - -<p> -"Ah, but you mustn't talk like that. It's hard, -I know, egregiously hard. But you mustn't be -bitter," said Mrs. Wilson, with mandatory kindness. -</p> - -<p> -The girl smiled in a superior fashion; it was -almost a sneer. Her desire to justify herself had -been an involuntary expression. Now vanity -intervened, vanity and the pride of smouldering -opinion. "I'm not bitter; I'm only telling you -the plain truth. I'm ignorant, I dare say, -compared to you; but I'm not so ignorant as you think. -I've thought for myself some; and—and all I say -is that this isn't any too good a world for a girl -like me anyway, and when a girl like me goes -wrong, as you call it, and has a kid, instead of -crying her eyes out the sensible thing for her to -do is to find someone to look after it for her." -</p> - -<p> -"Which only proves, my child, that such a thing -ought never to happen to her." -</p> - -<p> -"No—not if she has luck." -</p> - -<p> -There was a brief pause; then with an impulsive -glide Mrs. Wilson swept across the room and -transferred a cup of tea to the hands of this -wanderer from the fold of grace and ethics. The girl, -taken off her guard, tried to rise to receive it, and -looked at her with the half-fascinated expression -of a bird struggling against the fowler. Sitting -down beside her, Mrs. Wilson took one of her -hands and said, "Do you not understand, my dear, -that society must insist for its own preservation -that a woman shouldn't go wrong? The whole -safety of the family is based on that. That's the -reason the world has to seem a little cruel to those -of our sex who sin against purity. Children must -know who their fathers are." She had these precepts -in their modern guise at the tip of her tongue; -she hastened to add, benignly, "But though the -world in self-defence turns a cold shoulder on the -unchaste woman, for her who seeks forgiveness -and a fresh start there are helping hands and -loving words which offer forbearance and counsel and -friendship." -</p> - -<p> -"But supposing I'm not seeking forgiveness? -That's the trouble, lady. If only now I were a -shame-faced, contrite sinner down in the dust at -the foot of the cross asking permission to lead a -new life, how much simpler it would be for both -of us!" -</p> - -<p> -Mrs. Wilson gasped. The coolness of the -sacrilege disturbed her intellectual poise. The -girl might have been speaking of an invitation to -dinner instead of the redemption of her soul so -casual was her regret. "That is where you belong; -that is where you must come in order to find -grace and peace," she said, in an intense whisper. -</p> - -<p> -"I've shocked you." -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, you've shocked me. But that doesn't -matter. You don't realize what you're saying. -The important thing is to save you from yourself, -to cleanse the windows of your soul so that the -blessed light of truth may enter." -</p> - -<p> -The girl regarded her curiously, nervously -abashed at the impetuous kindness of this proselytism. -"That's what I meant by saying I'd thought -some. If it's church doctrine you mean, you'd -only be disappointed. It may help people like you. -But for the working people—well, some of us who -use our wits don't think much of it." -</p> - -<p> -Though Mrs. Wilson looked profoundly -grieved, the spiritual melancholy emanating from -her willowy figure and mobile countenance was -charged with resolution as well as pity. -</p> - -<p> -"It isn't merely church doctrine that you lack. -You lack the spirit of Christian civilization. Your -entire point of view is distorted. You are blind, -child, utterly blind to the eternal verities." -</p> - -<p> -The girl's dark eyes grew luminous in response -to this indictment, but a deprecating smile trembled -on her lip in protest at her own susceptibility. -</p> - -<p> -"What is it you want me to do?" she said at last. -</p> - -<p> -"To begin with, I wish you to support your -child as a woman should. You brought it into the -world, and you owe to the helpless little thing a -mother's love and care. Will you tell me your -name?" -</p> - -<p> -"Loretta Davis." -</p> - -<p> -"And what has been your employment?" -</p> - -<p> -"They don't know. I don't want them to know. -I gave them as an excuse that I was tired of the -place." -</p> - -<p> -"I'm not asking your employer's name. What -kind of work was it?" -</p> - -<p> -"I was assistant cashier in a drug store." -</p> - -<p> -"And before that?" -</p> - -<p> -"I answered the bell for a doctor." -</p> - -<p> -"I see. I don't wish to pry into your affairs; -but do you belong here? Are your parents living?" -</p> - -<p> -"I don't mind telling. There's not much to -tell. My father and mother are dead. I was -born about a hundred miles from here and attended -the public school. I had my living to make, -so I came to Benham about two years ago. I had -acquaintances, and was crazy to go into a store. -But a girl who came from the same town as I was -going to be married, and got me her place to look -after the doctor's bell and tidy up. He was a -dentist. He lost his health and had to go to -Colorado for his lungs, and then I went to the drug -store. That's all there is to tell, lady—that is, -except one thing, which doesn't count much now." -</p> - -<p> -"You might as well tell me that also." -</p> - -<p> -"Oh, well, I'd been thinking of training to be -a nurse when I got into trouble. I'd got used to -doctors and medicine, and they told me I had the -sort of hands for it." She exhibited her strong, -flexible fingers. "If I had got rid of my baby, I -was going to apply to a hospital. So you see I've -got some ambition, lady. I wanted to be of some -use. I'm not altogether bad." -</p> - -<p> -"No, no, I'm sure you're not. I understand -perfectly. And the baby shan't stand in the way -of your making the most of yourself. I will -arrange all that." Mrs. Wilson spoke with fluent -enthusiasm. She felt that she had discovered the -secret of, if not the excuse for, the girl's -callousness. Unwelcome maternity had interrupted the -free play of her individuality at the moment when -she was formulating a career, and as a modern -woman herself, Mrs. Wilson understood the -bitterness of the disappointment. It gave her a cue -to Loretta's perversion, so that she no longer felt -out of touch with her. She refrained from the -obvious temptation of pointing out that a nurse's -best usefulness would be to guard her tender child, -and broached instead the project which swiftly -suggested itself the moment she felt that she had -fathomed the cause of the culprit's waywardness. -</p> - -<p> -"I know just the home for you; a little -tenement in the Lincoln Chambers. The rooms are -savory, convenient, and attractive, and on the -opposite side of your entry lives an earnest, -interesting spirit, a woman whose husband has deserted -her, left her with two children to provide for. -She will be glad to befriend you, and you will like -her. I happen to know that the tenement is vacant, -and it is the very place for you." -</p> - -<p> -Loretta had listened with sphinx-like attention. -When Mrs. Wilson paused her eyes began to -make another tour of her surroundings, and at the -close of her remark ignored the theme of conversation. -</p> - -<p> -"I never was inside a multi-millionaire's house -before. That's what you are, ain't it?" -</p> - -<p> -The query was queer, but not to be evaded. -"I'm a rich woman certainly, which makes it all -the easier for me to help you." If this savored -of a pauperizing line, which was contrary to Mrs. Wilson's -philanthropic principles, she felt that she -must not at all hazards let the girl slip through -her fingers. -</p> - -<p> -"If I'm willing that you should." -</p> - -<p> -"Of course. But you are, I'm sure you are. -You're going to trust me and to put yourself into -my hands." -</p> - -<p> -The confidence and charm of this fervor -suddenly met with their reward. Loretta had held -back from genuine scruples, such as they were. -Instinctive independence and a preconceived -distrust of fine ladies had kept her muscles stiff and -her face set, though she felt thrilled by a strange -and delicious music. No one could have guessed -that it was only the habit of awkwardness which -restrained her from falling on her knees in an -ecstasy of self-abasement, not from an access of -shame, but as a tribute to the woman whose -personality had captivated her against her will. -</p> - -<p> -"You seem to take a heap of interest in me, -don't you?" The words by themselves suggested -chiefly surprise, but the sign of her surrender -showed itself in her eyes. They were lit suddenly -with an intensity which overspread her countenance, -bathing its matter-of-fact smartness in the -soft light of emotion. "I'm willing to do -whatever you like," she said. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap12"></a></p> - -<h3> -XII -</h3> - -<p> -If it be said of Gordon Perry, attorney and -counsellor-at-law, that he was loth to incur -the modern epithet, "crank," it was equally true -that he had ideals and cherished them. He believed -in living up to his convictions. At the same -time his sense of humor made him aware that to -dwell unduly on premeditated virtue is the -prerogative of a prig, and that it is often wise in a -workaday world to yield an inch if one would -gain an ell. His form of yielding was apt to be -genial, thoughtful consideration of the other -man's point of view, a virtual admission that there -were two sides to the case, instead of flying in the -face of his opponent. The modern American regards -this tactful moderation as essential to the -despatch of business, and prides himself on its -possession. It is the oil of the social industrial -machine. Also it is slippery stuff. One is liable -to slide yards away from one's point of view -unless one plants one's feet firmly. It is so much -easier to follow the trend than to resist it. The -natural tendency of those not very much in earnest -is to woo success by dancing attendance on the -powers which are, both movements and men. So -convictions become palsied, and their owners mere -puppets in the whirl of human activity. For the -sake of fortune, fame, or oftenest for the sake of -our bread and butter, we subscribe to theories and -support standards which we suspect at heart to be -unsound, lest we fail to keep step with the class to -which we belong. -</p> - -<p> -How to preserve his poise as an independent -character and at the same time avoid antagonism -with some of his new friends had become interesting -to Gordon Perry. He had reached a point -where he had only to be quiescent in order to reap -presently a rich harvest. His clear-headedness, -his quickness, and his common sense had been -recognized, and it was in the air that he was a rising -man in his profession. People of importance had -taken him up. It was known that he had attended -to certain matters for Paul Howard, from whom -it was only one step to the source of many -gigantic undertakings productive of fat fees. To the -eye of shrewd observers in Benham he had only -to go on as he had been going, and attend strictly -to business, in order to emerge from the ranks of -his brother lawyers, and become one of the small -group which controlled the cream of the legal -business of the city. Instead of bringing accident -cases he would defend them for powerful -corporations. Instead of conducting many small -proceedings at an expense of vitality for which his -clients could not afford and did not expect to pay -adequately, he would be employed by banks and -trust companies, would organize and reorganize -railroads, be made the executor of large estates -and the legal adviser of capitalists in financial -schemes from which profits would accrue to him -in the tens of thousands. It ought to be -comparatively plain sailing. This was obvious to the -man in question as well as to his contemporaries. -He knew that his business was growing, and -sundry rumors had reached him that he had been -spoken of in inner circles as skilful and level-headed. -</p> - -<p> -To indicate the current which ran counter in -Gordon Perry's thoughts to his appreciation of -these possibilities it will be necessary to refer -briefly to his past and to his mental perspective. -He was the son of a widow. Also a soldier's son. -His father, a volunteer, had survived the Civil -War, and, attracted by the rising destinies of -Benham, had made his home there, only to fall -victim to a fever within a year of his coming. -Gordon was then eleven years old. A policy of life -insurance kept the wolf from the door for the -afflicted widow so far as a bare subsistence was -concerned. She had a small roof over her head, -and was able by means of boarders and needlework -to present a decent front to the world while -she watched over her sole treasure, her only child. -Her ambition was to give him an education, and -her ambition in this respect was neither niggardly -nor ignorant. He was to have the best—a college -training—and to give him this it delighted -her to pinch and to slave. When a woman's duty -is squarely determined by responsibility for a -fatherless son, it is comparatively easy for her to -be true to her trust to the extent of complete -devotion and unselfishness. But devotion and -unselfishness do not include wisdom. Happy for -him whose mother is a victim neither to superstition -nor to silliness, but sees life with a clear, -sane outlook. Mrs. Perry was one of those -American women educated in the days of Emersonian -spirituality, when society walked in the lightest -marching order as regards material comforts and -embellishments, who were austere and sometimes -narrow in their judgments, but who set before -them as the one purpose of life the development -of character. She was simple, pious, brisk, and -direct; setting great store on acting and speaking -to the point, and abhorring compromise or -evasions. In her religious faith she believed, as -a Unitarian, about what liberal Episcopalians and -Presbyterians believe to-day. Doctrine, however, -appeared to her of minor importance compared to -the pursuit of noble aims and the practice of -self-control. She wished her son to care for the -highest things, those of the spirit and the intellect, -because she regarded them with sincerity as the -passports to human progress; and, though her -ęsthetic aims were dwarfed, and human color and -grandeur may have seemed to her to smack of -degeneracy, the white light of her aspirations had -a convincing beauty of its own. -</p> - -<p> -Under the influence of this training and this -point of view, Gordon went to Harvard. There -he encountered a new atmosphere. The old gods -were not dead, but they seemed moribund, for -there were others. The college motto, "Veritas," -still spoke the watchword of faith, yet the -language of his class-mates led him to perceive that -what was the truth was again in controversy. The -Civil War was over, but the martial spirit which -had sprung into being at the call of duty and love -of country was seething in the veins of a new -generation eager to rival in activity the heroism of -its fathers. It was no longer enough to walk in -contemplation beneath the college elms and -develop character by introspective struggle. -Truth—the whole truth, lay not there. Was not useful, -skilful action in the world of affairs the true test -of human efficiency? A great continent lay open -to ingenious youth trained to unearth and master -its secrets. How was it to be conquered unless the -spirit of energy was nourished by robust frames, -unless men were practical and competent as well as -soulful? -</p> - -<p> -Gordon listened to this new note with a receptive -ear, and recognized its value. Hitherto he -had thought little of his body, which, like an -excellent machine, had performed its work without -calling itself to his attention. Now he took part in -college athletics, and realized the exhilaration -which proceeds from healthful competitive exercise. -Through contact with his mates, and active -participation in the affairs of the college world, -he experienced also the still more satisfactory glow, -best described as the joy of life, which, partly -physical, partly athletic, had never been a portion -of his consciousness. He was drafted for the -football team, and by his prowess and his pleasant, -manly style acquired popularity in the college -societies, that fillip to self-reliance and proper -self-appreciation. If, as a consequence, he relaxed -somewhat his efforts to lead his class in scholarship, -which had been his sole ambition at the start, -he did not forget that he was a pensioner on his -mother's self-sacrifice; and though his rank at -graduation was not in the first half-dozen, it was -in the first twenty-five, and it could be said of him -that he looked fit for the struggle of life, the -possessor of a healthy mind in a well-developed body. -He was sophisticated, but his soul was untarnished -by dissipation, and the edge of his enthusiasm for -enterprise and endeavor was not dulled. Then -followed three years at the law school, where in -common with nearly everyone he worked like a -beaver to equip himself for his profession. There -all interests—it might be said all emotions—were -absorbed in contemplation of technical training. -But he was still under the shadow of the Harvard -elms, and the great world lay beyond, a land of -mysterious promise to his eager vision. -</p> - -<p> -However clear-sighted and philosophical a college -graduate, his first actual contact with the -great world is apt to be depressing. Society seems -so large and so indifferent; he is so insignificant -and so helpless—he who six months ago was a -hero in the eyes of his companions. Especially is -this apt to be the case when one is translated from -the dizzy democratic heights of college renown to -a humble, humdrum social station. It was no -revelation to Gordon Perry to find himself the son -of a hard-working, inconspicuous boarding-house -keeper, but it sobered him. He was neither -ashamed of the fact nor dismayed by it. On the -contrary, the sight of his mother's tired face and -figure subordinated every ambition to his loving -determination to conquer the world for her sake. -It seemed, however, a less simple matter to -conquer the world now that he was an unknown -student in a law office in a large city, with no family -influence or powerful friends to abet his endeavors. -For the first few years his lot was so obscure that -the contrasts of life arrested his attention as they -had never done before, though as a subconsciousness, -for he never outwardly paused in his efforts -to become indispensable to the firm of lawyers in -whose office he was. He beheld acquaintances in -various employments, whose mental superior he -believed himself to be, put in the direct line of -preferment through pecuniary or social influence, -and had to solace himself with the doctrine—also -the American doctrine—that it was every man's -privilege to make the most of his own advantages, -and his duty to acknowledge the same privilege in -others. -</p> - -<p> -Some young men are made cynical by the -perception of the workings of free competition; -others simply thoughtful. Gordon was among the -latter. Life presented itself to him from a new -perspective, and if it suddenly appeared both -perplexing and distressing, it appeared none the less -interesting. His personal dismay, if this passing -reaction deserves so harsh a term, was transient, -but it was the precursor to graver, disinterested -musings. His attention once arrested by the -inequalities of life turned further afield and became -riveted by concern and by pity. Why in this city, -established under free institutions, was it -necessary that thousands should be living in poverty, -ignorance, and social ineffectiveness if not -degradation? It ought not to be. It must not be. How -could it be averted? This outburst of his protesting -spirit encountered the query of his dispassionate -mind—what remedy do you suggest? It was -like a douche of cold water. Instinctively he -reached out for help. He knew that he was in -search of truth this time, but he abhorred an <i>ignis -fatuus</i>. He began to ask questions and to read. -There were various answers on the lips of those -whom he consulted, for the question seemed to be -in the air. Many, and there were among them -some whose broad shoulders, free carriage, and -prosperously self-reliant air told of that joy in -living and practical, world-conquering serenity -typical of the successful man of the present -generation, who assured him, often in a whisper, as -though it were a confidence, that these inequalities -must always exist. Were not men's abilities -different, and would they not always be so? Was it -just that one man's energy and skill should be -curtailed to keep pace with another's incapacity? -What would become of human individuality and -brilliancy if everyone's earning and owning were -to be circumscribed by metes and bounds, and we -were all to become commonplace, unimaginative -slaves of socialism? It was right, of course, that -existing abuses in the way of long hours and -insufficient pay should be rectified. That was on the -cards. In many cases it had been already -consummated. And what had malcontents or critics -of the existing industrial system to say to the long -list of splendid benefactions—free libraries, free -hospitals, free parks, and free museums—given to -the community by rich men—men who had been -abler and more progressive than their fellows? -Surely the world would be a dull place without -competition. -</p> - -<p> -There were others who declared that the destruction -of the poor was their poverty, and that -the poor man was at fault. That if he would let -liquor alone, have fewer children, and brush his -teeth regularly, he would be happy and prosperous. -They called Gordon's attention to the many -schemes for the uplifting of the industrial masses -which were already in operation in Benham, -homes for abandoned children, evening classes -where instruction and diversion were skilfully -blended, model tenements, and, most modern of -all, college settlements, the voluntary transplanting -of individual educated lives into social Saharas. -</p> - -<p> -The books which he read were of two classes. -Their writers were either optimistic apologists for -the current ills of civilization, deploring and -deprecating their existence, and suggesting the -gradual elimination of social distress by education and -intelligent humanity—"the giving of self -unreservedly," as many put it—without serious -modification of the structure of society; or they were -outspoken enemies of the present industrial status, -alleging that poverty and degradation were an -inseparable incident of unchecked human competition, -and that these evils would never be eradicated -until the axe was applied to the fundamental -cause. These latter critics had diverse preliminary -crucial remedies at heart, such as the capitalization -of land, government control of railroads, mines, -and other sources of power, or the appropriation -to the use of the community of a slice of abnormal -profits. -</p> - -<p> -Most of this presentation, whether through -men or from books, was not new to Gordon; but -it had been hitherto unheeded by him and had the -full effect of novelty. He found himself staring -at a condition of affairs which he had patriotically -if carelessly supposed could not exist in the land -of the free and the home of the brave until he -suddenly opened his eyes and beheld in full -operation in his native city, of which he was becomingly -proud, those grave contrasts of station common to -older civilizations. These included on the one hand -not only the uneducated army of workers in Benham's -pork factories, oil-yards, and iron mills, but -an impecunious, shiftless lower class; and on the -other what was, relatively speaking, a corporal's -guard of wealthy, wideawake, luxurious, ambitious -masters of the situation, to whom he hoped -presently to commend himself as a legal adviser. -</p> - -<p> -But what was the remedy? What was his -remedy? In the coolness of second thoughts, -after months of ferment, he had to confess that -he had none—at least none at the moment. -Simultaneously he had reached the further conclusion, -which was both a relief and a distress, that -whatever could be done must be gradual, so gradual as -to be almost imperceptible when measured by the -span of a single life. He recalled, with a new -appreciation of the truth, the saying that the mills -of God grind slowly. From the vanguard hope -of a complete change in current conditions, by a -series of telling blows of his own conception, he -was forced back to a modest stand behind the -breast-works. Modest because he began to -examine with a new respect the philanthropic and -economic apparatus for attack already in position, -which he had at first glance been disposed to -regard as too cumbersome and dilatory. Here was -where his purpose not to be quixotic and visionary -came to his support. He realized that it was -necessary for him to wait and to study before he could -hope to be of service; that he must take his -position in the ranks and observe the tactics of others -before attempting to assume leadership or to -initiate reforms. -</p> - -<p> -One effect of this check to his soaring -aspirations at the dictate of his common sense was to -give a fresh impetus to his resolve to succeed in -his profession. For a brief period the shock of -his discoveries had been so stunning that he almost -felt as though it were his duty and his mission to -devote his life to finding a remedy for the ills of -civilization. His mother's necessities stood as a -bar to this. But with the ebbing of his vision he -found himself no longer beset with doubts as to -the legitimacy of his apprenticeship. It seemed to -him clearly his duty, not only on his mother's -account but his own, to throw himself into his work -unreservedly with the intention of hitting the -mark. He had his bread to earn, his way to make. -How would it profit him or anyone that he should -forsake his calling and stand musing by the -wayside merely because he was distressed by the -inequalities of the industrial system? Inequalities -which existed all over the world and were as old -as human nature. He had no comprehensive cure -to suggest, so for the time being his lips were -sealed and his hands tied by his own ignorance. -And if conscience, borrowing from some of the -books which he had read, argued that the prosperous -lawyer was the agent of the rich against the -poor, the strong against the weak, his answer was -that the taunt was not true, and his retort by way -of a counter-sally was that in no country in the -world did the laboring man receive so high wages -as in this. This at least was a step forward, and -so he felt justified to follow precedent and to bide -his time. -</p> - -<p> -In order to succeed a young lawyer must be -ceaselessly vigilant. It is not enough to perform -faithfully what he is told. There are many who -will do this. The man who gets ahead is he who -does more than the letter of his employment -demands, who anticipates instructions and disregards -time and comfort in order to follow a clue of -evidence or elucidate a principle. So he becomes -indispensable, and by and by the opportunity -presents itself which the shiftless ascribe to luck. -Gordon Perry revealed this faculty of indefatigable -initiative. The firm in whose office he was -a student had a large business, chiefly in the line of -commercial law. The transit of the various -commodities to which Benham owed her prosperity -was necessarily productive of considerable -litigation against the railroads as common carriers and -between the shippers and consignees of wares and -merchandise. Besides, there were constant suits -for personal injuries to be prosecuted or defended, -involving nice distinctions as to what is negligence, -and bringing in their train much practice for the -juniors in the investigation of testimony. From -the outset Gordon worked with unsparing enthusiasm, -seeking to do the work entrusted to him so -thoroughly that those who tried the cases would -find the situation clearly defined and everything at -their fingers' ends. When it was perceived that he -was not only diligent but discerning and accurate, -they began to rely on him, and by the end of three -years the responsibility of trying as well as of -preparing the less important proceedings in the lower -courts became his. Also, by showing himself -solicitous regarding the affairs of the clients of -the office, he was able now and again to supply -information or tide matters over when the -member of the firm inquired for was out; and it was -not long before some of them formed the habit -of consulting him directly in minor matters. When -at the end of five years the senior partner, who -had independent means, retired in order to go to -Congress, his two associates came to the conclusion -that it would be good policy, as well as just, -to give Perry, as the most promising young man -in the office, a small interest in the business. This -promotion naturally gave him a new status with -the clients, and most of those who had been in -the habit of consulting him offhand, now laid their -serious troubles before him. So by the time he -was twenty-nine he was well started in his profession, -and able to extract a promise from his mother -that if he continued to prosper for another year, -she would yield to his solicitations to give up her -boarders and move into a brighter neighborhood. -</p> - -<p> -Although absorbed in his profession, Gordon's -genial charm soon brought him invitations of a -social nature. He became a member of a law club -of men of his own age, which met once a month -to compare impressions and banish dull care over -a good dinner. Still eager for exercise he joined -a rowing club on the river Nye, and a gymnasium. -After he was admitted to the firm he had his name -put up for election at one of the social clubs, The -University, so called because its members were -college graduates. Here he met the educated -young men of the city, and though his mother had -an old-fashioned prejudice against clubs, as -aristocratic resorts where men gambled and drank -more than was good for them, Gordon felt that -he needed some place where he could play a game -of whist or billiards with congenial spirits or look -at magazines in a cosey library as an antidote to -his sterner pursuits. Mrs. Perry was more than -willing to trust her son, so she sighed and set -down to the changed temper of the day the spread -of Benham's club fever. For, like other -progressive cities, Benham was fairly honeycombed with -clubs. The American social instinct had become -almost daft on the subject, and no two or three -men or women could come together for any purpose -without organizing. From a constitution and -by-laws the road was apt to be short to rooms or -a clubhouse. The University was one of half a -dozen of the purely social clubs of the city, a -spacious establishment, modelled on European -traditions with American plumbing and other modern -comforts. Gordon was prompted to join by Paul -Howard, who declared that he preferred it for -genuine enjoyment to the Eagle Club, the favorite -resort of the very rich and fashionable—the -Spread Eagle, as the malicious termed it. At The -University there was secular instrumental music on -Sunday afternoons, a custom copied from Boston, -that former hotbed of ascetic Sabbath life, and on -Saturday nights a cold supper was provided, about -which stood in pleasant groups the active professional -and business men of the city and those who -followed the arts—musicians, painters, and literary men. -</p> - -<p> -"Exclusive and aristocratic all the same," said -Hall Collins, contemptuously, one day when -Gordon vouchsafed to him a glowing account of these -Saturday nights. Hall was one of the moving -spirits in the only other club of which Gordon was -a member, The Citizens' Club, the somewhat -ambitious title of an organization conducted by young -men interested in civic and industrial reform, not -unlike that to which the unhappy Emil Stuart had -belonged. -</p> - -<p> -"Which only shows how little you understand -what we are after," was the prompt answer. -"There isn't a more truly democratic place in the -world—only we insist that a man should win his -spurs before he is entitled to consideration. A -clod, while he is a clod, isn't a gentleman, and it -isn't good American doctrine to regard him as one. -No logic will make him so. You're talking -through your hat, Hall, and you know it." -</p> - -<p> -Hall grinned. It was true he was not more than -half in earnest, but he was more than half -suspicious of Gordon. He could not make him out, -which nettled him, for Hall Collins liked to have -men docketed in his mind. -</p> - -<p> -"To Gehenna with your gentlemen!" he retorted. -"What use are spurs to a man who has no -boots to wear them on?" -</p> - -<p> -"Hear, hear!" interjected two or three bystanders -whose attention was caught by the metaphor. -</p> - -<p> -"It strikes me, young man," pursued Collins, -who had his chair tipped back, his feet on the -table and was smoking a fat cigar which one of -the aldermen had given him, appropriated by the -wholesale at a city banquet, "that you're trying -to ride two horses." He was glad to have an -audience to the discussion, for he could not make -up his mind that Gordon was sincere in his -interest in the Citizens' Club, and he feared some -ulterior motive, political or quasi-philanthropic. -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, that's just what I'm doing," answered -Gordon. "Half of the lack of sympathy between -the educated and the uneducated, between capital -and labor, as you like to call it, lies in the -imagination. What is there incompatible in being -a member of a club like this and wearing -patent-leather shoes and the latest thing in -collars?" -</p> - -<p> -"It smacks too much of college settlements. It -doesn't go to the root of things." -</p> - -<p> -"But it helps just as they help, unless in the -ideal democracy you are aiming at there's to be -no place for the refinements of life, for soft -speech, gentle manners, and the arts. In the -millennium are we all to be uncouth and unimaginative?" -</p> - -<p> -"Score one for the man with the patent-leather -shoes, only he hasn't got them on," exclaimed one -of the listeners. -</p> - -<p> -"You're beginning at the wrong end. You put -the cart before the horse; that's the trouble with -you. What's the use of decorating a house that's -going to be struck by lightning?" With all his -prejudice and homely exterior Hall Collins was at -heart no demagogue or charlatan. He was dead -in earnest himself and he wished others to be. He -was conversant with the history of the development -of trades-unions over the world. He was a -student of humanitarian reforms, and gave all the -time which he could spare from his occupation as -a master-mason to the furtherance of what he -considered legislative progress. -</p> - -<p> -"Struck by lightning, and then there's no house, -only ruins. That's not what you desire, Hall -Collins, you, I, nor anyone here. We're all seeking -the same thing, and we're all groping more or less -in the dark—putting the cart before the horse, -may be. But you haven't any panacea for what's -wrong more than I have. All we can hope to do -is to make a few trifling alterations on the -premises—paper a wall or enlarge a flue—before our lease -expires. The chief reason I joined this club was -that I might stop theorizing and wringing my -hands and get down to business. We all recognize -there's plenty of practical work waiting for -us, so what's the use of distrusting each other's -theories or motives? I've no Congressional bee -in my bonnet. I'm not trying to climb to political -prominence on the shoulders of the horny-handed -Citizens' Club." -</p> - -<p> -Hall colored slightly. He had been harboring -just that suspicion. -</p> - -<p> -"Good talk." "Come off your perch, Hall. -This man Perry's all right," was the response of -several listeners. The group was now a dozen. -</p> - -<p> -Hall took his feet from the table, stood up and -put out his hand. "It isn't because the boys say -so," he said. "I'm taking you on your own word, -Perry, and you'll never hear me peep again. -You've the right idea; it's no time for speculating, -for there's lots of business to be done right -here in Benham. And if I had a notion you might -be masquerading—well, there have been cases -where men in patent leathers and dandy collars -showed up strong in working-men's clubs, and the -only business they ever did was to lay and pull -wires." -</p> - -<p> -"Some men are born great, some achieve greatness, -and some have greatness thrust upon them," -said Ernest Bent. "Hall was born great, but if -Don Perry wants to go to the Legislature why -shouldn't the Citizens' Club send him there?" -</p> - -<p> -"That's so," said a second. -</p> - -<p> -"Not until he wins those spurs he spoke of—not -if he's the man I take him to be," exclaimed -Collins, doughtily. -</p> - -<p> -"Not under any circumstances. I have no wish -for office. I don't desire to be a politician." Gordon -spoke eagerly. The only thought in his mind -was to deprecate the suggestion. It was true that -in looking over the field there had seemed to him -almost a glut of philanthropists, and he had chosen -the Citizens' Club as a more promising opening -than charitable work. But his ambition was only -to be a private in the ranks. -</p> - -<p> -"And yet," commented Hall, "what should we -do without politicians? They are the only -persons who put things through, and laws on the -statute books are what we need. Look at this -cigar." He exhibited the butt end, which was all -that was left. "The man who gave it to me helped -himself to a box, and the only thing he wouldn't -help himself to is a red-hot stove, but I didn't spit -in his face and I smoked his cigar, and I dare say -he'll vote for some of our batch of bills because I -told him a good story. It's disgusting." He -threw down the butt and trod it under foot. "The -cardinal sin of the sovereign people is their -ignorance. Will they never learn not to send dishonest -men to represent them?" -</p> - -<p> -"You see that Hall is both an idealist and -practical," said Ernest Bent to Gordon. It was -through Bent that Gordon had joined the Citizens' -Club. He was his next-door neighbor, the son of -an apothecary, and had, while following his trade -behind the counter, read books on the science of -government, and the rights and wrongs of man, -with excursions to Darwin and Huxley. As the -result of bandying opinions from time to time he -had taken Gordon one evening to a meeting of -the club, and subsequently invited him to become -a member. Gordon did not need persuasion to -join. It seemed to him just the opportunity he -had been looking for to espouse the cause which -he had at heart, by focussing his sympathies on -practical measures. He recognized that the club -was not only a debating body, but aimed to be a -political force, and that many of its members were -expert and not entirely scrupulous politicians. But, -on the other hand, in spite of the jaundiced views -of some of those who harangued the meetings, -Gordon discerned that a half-dozen men were -really in control—among them Collins and -Bent—and that they were guided by a sincere and -reasonably cautious ambition to procure scientific -reforms. A little consideration convinced him that -he was glad they were seeking to wield political -influence. It gave the effect of reality, of battle. -Academic discussion was a vital prelude to -well-considered action, but, after all, as Hall Collins -said, the only thing which really counted was law -on the statute books. It suited his manhood to -feel that he was about to fight for definite issues. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap13"></a></p> - -<h3> -XIII -</h3> - -<p> -After eighteen months of prosperity the law -firm into which Gordon Perry had been -admitted was crippled by the death of one of the -two other partners. The survivor, who was the -junior of the two, and decidedly the inferior in -mental calibre and energy, proposed to Gordon to -continue the firm on the footing of two-thirds of -the profits for himself, and appeared pompously -grieved when his former student demurred to the -terms. Before he could make up his mind to a -more equable division Gordon had made up his to -separate and to practise alone. While Gordon -did not have a very high opinion of his partner's -talents, he was grateful for his own recent -promotion, and was aware that his associate's wise -countenance and seniority combined would probably -avail to control the cream of the business—that -brought by managers of corporations and successful -merchants, both prone to distrust youth. But -the plan of setting up for himself was tempting, -especially as he disliked the alternative of the -lion's share going to a lawyer of mediocre ability, -and when Paul Howard asked why he did not -take the step in question, and intimated that he -would befriend him in case he did, Gordon -resolved to burn his bridges and make the plunge, -or in more correct metaphor to hang out his own -shingle. -</p> - -<p> -As he had expected, there was at first a slight -lull in his fortunes; but, on the other hand, he was -able to pocket the whole income, and even from -the outset he was reasonably busy. Paul Howard's -promise was fulfilled. All his personal and -presently some of the firm matters were placed in -Gordon's hands, and the two men met not infrequently -as a consequence. At Harvard they had -been acquaintances rather than friends. Their -contact on the foot-ball team had inspired respect -for each other's grit, but they were not intimate. -As the possessor of a liberal allowance, Paul had -belonged to a rather frivolous set, notorious in -college circles through lavish expenditures, which -included boxes at the theatres and suppers and -flowers for the chorus girls. Though Gordon was -partial to comic opera himself, he had regarded -Paul as a high flyer, and Paul in his turn had -pitied Gordon as a good fellow spoiled by being -obliged to "grind." When they met again in -their native city after a lapse of years, each was -impressed by the other's improvement and found -him much more interesting than he had expected. -Paul had toned down. His spirits were less -flamboyant; he was gay-hearted instead of noisy, and -his manner had lost its condescension. On his -part, Gordon had mellowed through contact with -the world and was more easy-going in his address, -and no longer wore the New England conscience -in his nostrils. They met first by chance at a -restaurant at noon, and, habit bringing them to the -same resort, they lunched together from time to -time, and the favorable impression was -strengthened on each side. -</p> - -<p> -Gordon interested Paul because the former was -so different from most of the men with whom he -was in the habit of associating, and yet was, so to -speak, a good fellow. The true creed of most of -Paul's friends when reduced to terms, was -substantially this, that the important thing in life is -to be on top, that in America every one has a -chance and the best men come to the front, that -success means money, that money ensures enjoyment, -and that no one is supposed to be enjoying -himself or herself who does not keep feeding the -dynamo of conscious existence with fresh sensations -and run the human machine at full pressure. -There were necessary corollaries to this, such as -"the devil take the hindmost," uttered considerately -but firmly; "we shall be a long time dead," -murmured jocosely but shrewdly; and "the cranks -may prevail and the crash come, but we shall be -under the sod," spoken philosophically, with a -shake of the head or a sigh; the moral of it all -being that the position of the successful—that is, -the rich—is delectable and intoxicating, and the -rank and file are expected to comport themselves -with patriotic and Christian resignation, and not -interfere with the free workings of the millionairium, -an ingenious American substitute for the -millennium. -</p> - -<p> -The stock market, athletic sports, and cocktails -were the tutelary saints of this section of society. -They were habitually long or short of the market -from one or two hundred to several thousand -shares, according to their means. They followed -feverishly the prevailing fads in sport, yachting, -tennis, polo, rowing, golf, rackets, hunting, horse -shows (as now, a few years later, "bridge," -ping-pong, and the deadly automobile). And after -exercise, before lunch and dinner, and on every -other excuse, they imbibed a cocktail or a whiskey -and soda as a fillip to the nervous system. They -were dashing, manly-looking fellows, these -companions of Paul, ingenious and daring in their -business enterprises, or, if men of leisure, keen and -brilliant at their games. They set great store by -physical courage and unflinching endurance of -peril and pain, and they would have responded -promptly to a national demand for troops in case -of war; but when anything arose on the political -or social horizon which threatened to disturb -prices on the stock exchange they set their teeth as -one man and howled maledictions at it and its -author, though it bore the sign manual of true -progress. In short, life for them meant a bull -market, a galaxy of competitive sports, and -perpetual novelty. -</p> - -<p> -In turning from this comradeship and point of -view to Gordon Perry, Paul did so guardedly. -That is, although he was not altogether satisfied -to follow the current in which he found himself, -he had no intention of being drawn into the eddies -by false sentiment or of rowing up-stream at the -dictates of envy and demagogism. He was ready -to admit that the policy of high-pressure enjoyment -and acquisition might be ethically defective, -but he did not propose to exchange his birthright -for a mess of pottage and become pious or philanthropic -on sing-song lines. As he once expressed -it to Gordon, some two years after the latter had -set up for himself, between the hypocrites and the -fools it was a comparatively simple matter to -charm an audience with a psalm tune compounded -of the Rock of Ages and the Star-Spangled Banner -until it passed resolutions against the rich and -in favor of the poor, which not merely confounded -common sense and subverted justice, but gave a -sort of moral sanction to the small lies, the sand -in the sugar, the dirt, the superstition and the -slipshod ways which distinguished the people without -brains and imagination from those with. -</p> - -<p> -"We might divide all round," Paul continued, -"but what good would that do? I might move -into a smaller house, sell my steam yacht and all -my stable, except a horse and buggy, and play the -Puritan, but what good would that do? People -would laugh and my wife would think me crazy. -I tell you what, Don, we—I mean the crowd I run -with—may be a grasping, extravagant, gambling, -sporting, strenuous lot, but we trot square. There's -no sand in our sugar, and when there's music to -be faced we don't run away, squeal or delude -ourselves. But I've sworn off cocktails for good. I -began yesterday. And I'm going to keep my eye -on you, Don. I don't promise to follow you, -but I'm interested. When you get your plans in -working order let me look at them. I may be able -to syndicate them for you, even though I have to -shock my conservative father in the process. By -the way, do you happen to need a stenographer? -She's said to know her business. And this one is -in your line, too." -</p> - -<p> -Gordon had been conscious lately that his work -required another clerk. "In my line?" -</p> - -<p> -"Yes. A tale of woe. She's a protegée of my -aunt's, and needs a helping hand. A widow with -two small children. Good looking, too, I believe. -Mrs. Wilson has had her taught until she can play -the type-writer like a learned pig, and take down -your innermost thoughts in shorthand. And now -the woman insists on being thrown down hard on -her own resources, like a good American. We -haven't a vacancy, unless I invent one; and it -occurred to me that you must have work enough for -a second stenographer by this time." -</p> - -<p> -"I'll try her." -</p> - -<p> -"Thanks. One good turn deserves another. -I'll tell my aunt that she ought to ask you to dine; -and then if you don't give her to understand that -her will is all wrong and should be drawn over -again the fault will be yours." -</p> - -<p> -"Bankers may advertise their wares in the shop -windows, but a self-respecting lawyer may only -look wise. He must hold his tongue until he is -consulted." -</p> - -<p> -"Squat in his office, eh, like a spider waiting -for flies? But you ought to know my aunt all the -same." -</p> - -<p> -"I should like to immensely," said Gordon. -</p> - -<p> -"She's not like the rest of the family; she -belongs to a different flight. My father has brains -and force. It's not easy to equal him in those. -He hasn't had time though to sort his ideas and -tie them up in nice white packages with crimson -bows or to polish anything except his wits. But -Aunt Miriam goes in for the perfect life. That's -what she has in her mind's eye. You would suit -her to death, Don. You ought to be pals. She's -absorbed in reforms and ęsthetic mission work, -and she has a fine scent for national tendencies, -and there's no telling but you might each get -points from the other." -</p> - -<p> -Gordon laughed. "You flatter me, Paul." -</p> - -<p> -"No, I don't. You're not alike. You're both -aiming at the same thing, I suppose; but your -ways are different. And you can't very well both -be right. You may not be pals after all. You -may disagree and fight. Come to think of it, I -shouldn't be in the least surprised if you did. A -pitched battle between Gordon Perry and -Mrs. Randolph Wilson would be worth watching." Paul -chuckled mirthfully at the conception. "I'm -not quite sure which of you I would back." -</p> - -<p> -"And now you're enigmatic, not to say absurd." -</p> - -<p> -"Wait until you get to know her; then you'll -understand. I should only tie myself up in a -bow-knot trying to explain. Her daughter's marriage -gave Aunt Miriam her head. If ever there was a -case of disappointment, Lucille was one. Aunt -Miriam had intended her to be a model of -ęsthetic sweetness and light, a sort of Matthew Arnold -girl with American patent electrical improvements, -but she must have been changed at birth. -Lucille has her good points—I'm fond of her—but -it's a matter of utter indifference to her -whether the world improves or not provided she -has what she likes. She must have been a constant -jar to her mother. Yet I never heard a whimper -from Mrs. Wilson. My aunt had no particular -use for Clarence Waldo; yet when the thing was -settled one could never have guessed from her -manner that she was not to be the mother-in-law -of Lord Rosebery or of the author of the great -American novel. But now that her mission as a -mother is fulfilled, look out for storm centres in -the upper lake region of high ideas and fresh -winds in reform circles. By the way, the Waldos -are in this country again, and are to pass the -summer at Newport. My wife says that we are to go -there too, with a new steam yacht and all the -latest appliances for cutting ice. So you see, I -couldn't play the Puritan and the American husband -in the same act." -</p> - -<p> -As a result of this conversation, Constance -Stuart obtained employment in Gordon Perry's -office. When she presented herself he recognized -her with surprise as the client whose scrupulous -purpose he believed he had divined, though she -had given no clue to her instructions. He realized -that he was predisposed in her favor, so that she -scarcely needed the letter of encomium from -Mrs. Wilson, which he paused to read, chiefly -because of its chirography and diction. He observed -that both her face and figure were a little fuller -than when he had seen her last, which was -becoming, and that she was more trigly, though -simply, dressed. It was clear that she had risen -from the ashes of her adversity, and was -determined to put her best foot forward. And what -an attractive voice and fine eyes she had. As he -looked at her he said to himself that she was -qualified for the position as one in a thousand; the -sort of woman who would understand without becoming -obtrusive, who would be neither a machine -nor a coquette; and though she was a novice, the -endorsement was explicit on the score of her -capacity. Gordon felt that she would give a new -atmosphere to his office. -</p> - -<p> -Constance, on her part, was pleased to encounter -one not wholly a stranger. Though she had -acquired deftness in her work, she felt nervous at -actual responsibility, and the memory of the -lawyer's kind eyes and frank smile gave her -assurance. As she saw him again she was sure that he -would be considerate and reasonable. Mrs. Wilson -had spoken of an opening in Mr. Howard's office, -where she would be one of a roomful of -typewriters, but she was glad now that this -opportunity had been offered her instead. There would -be less excitement and less contact with the -hurly-burly of large events, and less chance for -promotion and for better pay in case she proved -proficient. But, on the other hand, she believed that -she would find here a secure and agreeable haven -where she could do her best with self-respecting -faithfulness and support her children suitably. -As she arranged her small effects in the desk -provided for her, she concluded already that she was -very fortunate. -</p> - -<p> -Just a year had passed since Constance had begun -her new life in Lincoln Chambers, and the impulse -of that new life may be said to have dated from -her visit to Mrs. Randolph Wilson. From that -interview and that house she had brought away -encouragement and inspiration. The text of the -value of the spirit of beauty possessed her soul -with the ardor of a new faith. Suddenly and with -captivating clearness it had been revealed to her -that the external fitness of things is a fact and not -to be ignored, and that the purely introspective, -subjective vision sees only half the truth of -existence. She perceived that she had been content -with rectitude, and unadorned plainness; that she -had been indifferent and blind to color, variety, -and artistic excellence. It was as though she had -been nourished on skimmed milk instead of cream, -as though her diet had been a monotonous simple -regimen without a luscious ingredient. -</p> - -<p> -To begin with, she had turned her thought to -her own home, where cleanliness and order ruled, -but where she had hitherto refrained from other -than haphazard efforts at pleasing effects. Her -idea had been to be comfortable and decent, and -to let the rest take care of itself, but now the -ambition was awakened to impart taste to her -surroundings. To her satisfaction she found that this -was not difficult to accomplish even with her -modest resources, as her mentor had predicted. -Her woman's intelligence and native refinement -reinforced her aroused interest, and by altering -the angles and position of her furniture, and by -introducing a few spots of color to enliven the -monotony of her rooms she was able to effect a -modest transformation delightful to her own eyes. -To plant flowers in boxes for her windows and to -arrange the few pictures she owned to advantage -was the next step. The modern design of her -apartment lent itself to her efforts, as though its -newness, its modern tiles and its wall-papers were -in league against dull commonplaceness, and it -seemed to her presently almost horrible that she -had remained indifferent for so long to the -necessity of external appearances, absorbed in the -processes of introspection. When she and Emil -had married her predominant impulse had been to -be a good, loving wife to him, and to make his -home inviting by her cheerfulness and tact. The -new, clean house had seemed to her pretty in -itself, and she had taken for granted that the sets -of furniture, the carpets, and other household -goods, bought hastily, could not fail to set it forth -to advantage. They were substantial, fresh, and -paid for, and in her happiness it had not occurred -to her to bother further. To do so would have -seemed to savor of undue worldliness. Now how -far away appeared that time of joyful ignorance, -and how foreign to her present sophistication its -artless outlook. She had deemed herself cultivated -then, and later, in the stress of her misfortunes, -had cherished thoughtful simplicity as the essence -of personal refinement, the life-buoy to which she -clung amid the waste of waters. By the light of -experience it was plain that she had starved -herself and eschewed as effete or unimportant that -which was wholesome and stimulating. The same -impulse led her to take a new interest in her own -personal appearance, to arrange her hair tastefully, -to consider a little what colors suited her -best, and in various simple ways to make the most -of her own personal advantages for the first time -in her life. Not in the spirit of vanity, but in -acknowledgment that she had too much neglected -the temple of the body. And not only in respect -to beauty in the outward manifestations of -everyday life did she feel that she had been blind to -what existence offered, but where art touched -religion. She was able to approach faith from a -new point of view; to wrap her naked intellectual -communion with the garment of the church -properties—to yield herself to the spell of the solemn -architecture, the new stained-glass windows, the -artistic reredos, and the vested choir of -St. Stephen's—without suspicion or doubt. Her life had -lacked the impulse of art, and in finding it she -believed that she had discovered the secret of a -closer approach to God. -</p> - -<p> -She sought by zeal to make atonement to Mr. Prentiss -for her past deficiencies. It did not appear -to her essential to recant her errors formally; -indeed, she did not do so to herself, for in -respect to certain dogmas and supernatural claims -of the creed she had not disowned her independence -of thought. That which she wished to disown -unmistakably was the coldness of her attitude -toward spiritual things; she wished her rector -to realize that heart was predominating over -mind, and that trusting, ardent worship had taken -the place of speculative lip service. A sermon by -Mr. Prentiss came in the nick of time to further -this attitude. It was on the essentials of the -religious faith, and he defined them as the spirit of -Christian brotherhood and love through man to -God. Although he did not in terms disparage the -importance of the dogmas and traditions of the -church, the impression left on Constance was that -he had passed them by as embodying the -antiquated letter, but not the modern temper of -Christian doctrine. To her eager imagination -the doubts which had harassed her in the past -concerning the truth of the miracles, and kindred -scriptural deviation, from the natural order of the -universe were reduced to trivial importance. -Instead of stumbling-blocks to faith, they had -become objects of secondary interest, to one side of -the high-road along which the Christ-life was -leading mankind. -</p> - -<p> -How better could she manifest this change of -mood to Mr. Prentiss than by devotion to church -work? She became a teacher in the Sunday-school -in the Church of the Redeemer, the mission -church connected with St. Stephen's, joined -once more a Bible-class under her rector's -instruction, and undertook to befriend some poor -families less fortunate than herself on the parish lists. -But her dearest service was to help to deck the -church for the great Christian festivals, -Christmas and Easter. To arrange the evergreen and -mistletoe, the profusion of lilies and roses, humbly -and under the guidance of those versed in such -matters, but with devoted hands, gave her a -chance to ventilate the new poetry of her soul. -She had become enamored of the charm of flowers; -she delighted in the swell of the organ and -the melodious chants of the rejoicing choir. Her -willing fingers quickly became skilful. At the -second Easter she was even appealed to on minor -points of taste by some of her fellow-workers, so -that Loretta Davis, who was standing by holding -smilax, nudged her as a sign of congratulation, -for she had represented herself to Loretta as a -complete novice in such matters. Very grateful -and inspiriting to Constance was Mrs. Wilson's -voluntary tribute on the same evening that she -had been of notable service. Mrs. Wilson was -the presiding genius and lady bountiful of these -festivals, especially on Easter Day. It was she -who said yearly to Mr. Prentiss, "Date plenis -lilia," and, acting on that cue, gave orders to the -florists to exhaust the green-houses of the -neighborhood, and to spare neither expense nor pains -to make St. Stephen's the most beautiful -sanctuary in Benham. It was she who organized and -tactfully controlled the large committee of ladies -whose annual labor of love it was to dress the -church. It was she who oversaw and checkmated -the commonplace intentions of the professional -decorators employed to fasten festoons and -clusters beyond the reach of ladylike gymnastics; and -it was she who originated or set the seal of -approval on the artistic scheme of design adopted -by the committee. -</p> - -<p> -Mrs. Wilson had had several triumphs as a -consequence of the freedom afforded her by her -daughter's marriage, but nothing had given her -more satisfaction than the progress of Loretta -Davis's redemption through association with -Constance. She had jumped at the idea of placing -the wayward girl in the opposite tenement, feeling -that the experience would be a blessing to both -women; that it would provide Loretta with a -sympathetic fellow struggler and example, and give -Mrs. Stuart the self-respecting occasion to help as -well as to be helped. Still it was an experiment -until tried, the success of which could not be taken -for granted. -</p> - -<p> -That their relations had become sympathetic -was due mainly to Constance. In her present -mood the unfortunate girl seemed to have been -sent to her as an opportunity for Christian usefulness, -as a test of her own spiritual regeneration. -Here was the best chance of all to show her -changed heart to her rector. Her recognition -from the outset that Loretta was distasteful to -her, and her shrinking not only from the girl's -attitude toward sin but from her smart matter-of-fact -personality served merely as a spur to her -own zeal. She would win her over and be won -over herself; she would unearth the palpitating -soul of which Mrs. Wilson had confided to her -that she had caught a glimpse, and teach her to -reassert and develop her womanhood. Help came -unexpectedly from Loretta herself after the ice of -acquaintance was broken and the two women -found themselves close neighbors. Constance was -attracted by the keenness of her intelligence which, -though Loretta was ignorant and undisciplined, -was apt to go straight to the mark on the wings -of rough but pungent speech. It conciliated -Constance to discover this trait, for she shrank from -self-deception as a moral blemish and one more -typical of women than of men. The girl's -directness awoke an answering chord. A clear head -removed half the difficulty of the situation, and -held out the hope that wise counsel would not -be lost. -</p> - -<p> -Loretta made no mystery of her circumstances. -She told the story of her shame with matter-of-fact -glibness as an every-day incident in human -life, lamentable possibly on conventional grounds, -but not to be judged harshly by the discerning, -among whom she chose to place Constance. The -thing had happened, and there was nothing to be -said or done but make the best of it—which now -included the baby. -</p> - -<p> -"She wanted me to keep it, and I said I would, -and that I'd come and live here and see how I -liked it. I shocked her and—well, I had never -talked with anyone just like her before. She -seemed set on my living here, so I thought I'd try." -</p> - -<p> -"She" was always Mrs. Wilson. This was -Loretta's invariable way of referring to her, as if -there could be no question who was meant. She -talked of her constantly, with an eager yet shy -interest, which promptly revealed to Constance -how matters stood. Loretta had taken up her -duties as a mother and subordinated her own -wanton theories to please Mrs. Wilson. This -was the bond which held her, not religion or the -qualms of self-respect. Yet it was a bond, and -Constance recognized it as one to be cherished. -To hear this woman, so bold and indelicate in -every-day speech, ask questions concerning her -divinity with a shyness not unlike that of a bashful -lover was interesting. Was not she herself under -the influence of the same charm? Was not this -infatuation another tribute to the power of the -spirit of beauty? Thus Constance felt that she had -a clue to her new companion's nature, which she -did her best to utilize. So it happened that -Loretta went to church because she could catch a glimpse -of Mrs. Wilson from where they sat; and Loretta -took a new interest in her baby from the hour -when Mrs. Wilson sent her, tied up with a pretty -ribbon, a little embroidered infant's jacket bought -at a fair; and Loretta helped to deck St. Stephen's -at Easter because of the chance that Mrs. Wilson -would speak to her, as of course she did. Constance -found herself a silent but zealous conniver -and accomplice; and it impressed her that the -object of devotion seemed instinctively aware both -of it and the girl's need, for every now and then -Mrs. Wilson would make the occasion by a few -words, a note, a visit or a gift to lift Loretta above -the level of her own devices. For just as Antęus -gained strength by contact with the earth, Loretta's -spirit seemed to crave the inspiration of -Mrs. Wilson's gracious patronage. -</p> - -<p> -Though slap-dash and over-confident in her -ways, Loretta was capable and quick to adopt and -to perform skilfully whatever appealed to her. -Her experience as a cashier in a drug store had -given her a lingo and a certain familiarity -concerning modern remedies, and she had a natural -aptitude with her hands. Some of the maternal -hygienic niceties practised by Constance appeared -to amuse her at first, but as she became more -interested in her baby, she outdid her neighbor in -pharmaceutical experiments with powder, oil, -perfume, and whatever she thought likely to make -her child a savory specimen of babyhood. When -the child was a year old, Mrs. Wilson made good -her promise that Loretta should be instructed in -nursing by securing her admission to a hospital. -At the same time she engaged another of her -wards, a responsible, elderly woman, to take up -her abode in Loretta's tenement, and it was -arranged that this custodian should also tend -Constance's children during their mother's absence -down-town. How to guard her children properly -after their return from school had been agitating -Constance, and this plan was exactly to her liking. -She paid a small sum weekly from her earnings -for the supervision, and it was understood that -Loretta should have the same privilege after her -apprenticeship was over and she had become -self-supporting. So it was that Mrs. Wilson felt she -had reason to be gratified by her philanthropic -experiment in Lincoln Chambers. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap14"></a></p> - -<h3> -XIV -</h3> - -<p> -The zest of existence must be largely ethical -and subjective for the majority of us or we -should speedily become despondent or bored. Contact -with life is necessarily so commonplace for the -mass of humanity, that, were we dependent on -personal participation in large events and dramatic, -splendid experiences for inspiration and content, -few would not find themselves restless and in the -mental doldrums. Fortunately for our peace of -mind, most of us not only appreciate that pictorial -and world-stirring, or even exciting, affairs can -be the lot of only a fraction of mankind, but, by -virtue of the imagination, manage to impart to -our more or less humble vicissitudes the aspect of -an engrossing situation. We recognize the relative -insignificance of the individual drama, but its -reality holds us. Its characters may be few, its -scenery bare, its action trite and simple to other -eyes, yet each of us, as the leading actor, finds in -the development of a human soul a part which -fascinates him, and lends itself to the finest shades -of expression. Whether it be a king on his throne, -or a cripple in his cot, the essential matter to the -world is the nice interpretation. So, as the true -artist in a subordinate rōle forgets for the time -that he is not the leading actor, we refuse to be -depressed by the unimportance of our theatricals -and are absorbed by the unfolding perplexities of -our own soul play. -</p> - -<p> -It is every American woman's privilege, according -to her tastes, to dream that she may become -the wife of the President of the United States, or -wield a powerful influence as a poetess, -humanitarian educator, or other exponent of modern -feminine usefulness. In marrying Emil Stuart, -Constance had renounced the latter in favor of the -former possibility. She had sacrificed all hopes -of personal public distinction, but there still had -remained the vision of becoming famous by proxy, -through her husband. If this had never appeared -to her happy eyes as a bride more than an iridescent -dream, the idea that she would presently be working -in a lawyer's office would have seemed utterly -inconsistent with her scheme of life, and a -violation of her horoscope. Yet, now that she was -established in this position, she found the -experience not only satisfactory, as a means of -subsistence, but interesting. In the first place, it stirred -her to be down-town in the swift current of affairs -and a part of the busy crowd which peopled the -huge office-buildings and swept to and from its -work with the regularity and rhythmic force of -the tide. Through this daily contact she discerned, -as never before, the dignity and the pathos of -labor, and gained both courage and exhilaration -from the thought that, though there were generals -and captains, and she was in the rear rank of -privates, the real strength of the army lay in the -faithful performance by the individual of that portion -of the world's toil entrusted to himself or herself. -There was attraction, too, in her employment, -though her task was but to register and reproduce -with despatch the thoughts of others. The occupation -tested her accuracy, patience, tact, and diligence. -She must avoid blunders and be swift to -comprehend. There were secrets in her keeping; -affairs upon the issue of which hinged large sums -of money, and often the happiness of leading -citizens, who were clients of the office; close legal -battles between mind and mind; domestic difficulties -settled out of court; and suits for injuries, -where the price of a life or of a limb were at stake. -Her lips must be sealed, and she must seem -unaware of the tragedies which passed beneath her -observation. Yet the human element became a -constant, vivid interest to her, and now and then -it happened, as, for instance, when a forlorn hope -brought liberal damages to the wronged or the -afflicted, that she was taken into the secret by the -exultant plaintiff, and was able to rejoice openly. -There was, finally, her association with her -employer. From this she had not expected much. -She was there to execute his instructions without -superfluous words or the obtrusion of her own -personality. She knew, instinctively, that he would -not treat her merely as a machine, but she took -for granted that their relations would be formal. -It pleased her that, though this was the case, there -were moments, even from the first, when he let -her perceive that he regarded her as a social -companion. To evince a kindly interest in her -personal affairs was simply human; anyone might -show this; but to talk with her on the topics of the -day, to call her attention to a book or an article, -or, as presently happened, to invite her opinion on -a question of legal ethics, was a flattering -indication that he considered their point of view the -same. A difference in point of view is the most -insurmountable, because the most intangible, -barrier to the free play of human sympathy and the -social instinct. It is the last great fortress in the -pathway of democracy; one which the besiegers -will be able to carry only by learning the password. -A free-masonry exists, from the cut of the mind to -that of the hair and coat, between those who -recognize each other, and not to speak the same -language palsies the best intentions. Modest as her -introduction to Mrs. Randolph Wilson had made -her, Constance in her heart believed that she spoke -the same mental language as Mr. Perry. But -would he recognize it? That he did so not only -increased her interest in serving him, but held out -the promise of a new friend. He might so easily -have passed her over, he who was so busy and had -so many acquaintances. Yet it was plain that he -liked to talk to her, and that he availed himself -of opportunities for conversation. At the end of -a year it happened that the other stenographer, -her predecessor, left Mr. Perry's employment in -order to marry. As a consequence, Constance -became the senior clerk, and was given formal charge -of the office with a slight increase in pay. -</p> - -<p class="capcenter"> -<a id="img-218"></a> -<img class="imgcenter" src="images/img-218.jpg" alt="There were moments, even from the first, when he let her perceive that he regarded her as a social companion" /> -<br /> -There were moments, even from the first, when he let her perceive that he regarded her as a social companion -</p> - -<p> -She would scarcely have been human had Gordon -Perry's complimentary interest failed to -inspire her with some degree of hero-worship. Yet, -though she was presently aware that she had set -him on a pedestal, she felt that she had excellent -reasons for her partiality. Was he not a clear-headed, -astute reasoner, as well as kind? A -thorough, conscientious worker, who went to the root -of whatever he undertook, and prosecuted it -vigorously, as well as a gracious spirit with a sense -of humor? If she did not reveal much of the last -quality herself, she appreciated and enjoyed it in -others, especially when it was the sort of humor -which championed truth against error and could -be playful or caustic, as the occasion demanded. -He was simple and approachable, yet he had -influential and fashionable friends. Recently he had -made the acquaintance of Mrs. Randolph Wilson, -and was on pleasant terms with her. Constance -had recognized her handwriting, and had been -apprised by Loretta of his presence at Mrs. Wilson's -entertainments. Loretta had, what seemed -to Constance, almost a mania for the social -department of newspapers. She knew by rote the names -of the society leaders, and was familiar through -reportorial photography with many of their faces. -Mrs. Wilson was the bright, particular star in this -galaxy of interest. Loretta searched with avidity -for every item of gossip which concerned her -divinity, and took a hectic pleasure in retailing her -information. Thus it happened that every now -and then she would exclaim: "I see that your boss -was at her last entertainment," the fact of which -was more agreeable to Constance than the -phraseology. Loretta's diction was always clear, but -Constance, who wished to feel that they spoke the -same language, had often to bite her lips as a -reproof to her sensibilities; and, especially, when she -heard her hero spoken of as her boss. It was so -wide of the truth regarding him. -</p> - -<p> -Then there was his mother, and here again -Constance had cause to feel gratified. Quite -unexpectedly Mrs. Perry had called upon her, seeking -her at Lincoln Chambers in the late afternoon -when she was likely to be at home. While serving -her five o'clock tea, Constance had observed, with -interest in her personality, marked resemblances to -her son. He had inherited her naturalness and -mental vigor. Her cheerful directness, too, but -in his case the straightforward attitude was -softened by the habit of deliberation and garnished -by a more tolerant gaiety. It was obvious that -Mrs. Perry maintained the integrity of her convictions -until they ran counter in daily life to his, -and in capitulating reserved always the privilege -to be of the same opinion still, which she exercised -with her tongue in her cheek, thereby betraying -her great pride in her son, and in her son's superior -wisdom. She professed, for instance, to regard -his ideas concerning the new home in which he had -just installed her, and where she was keeping house -for him, as extravagant. What was the use of -spending so much on mere creature comforts? She -did not need them. She had sat on straight-backed -chairs all her days and preferred them, and she did -not require a telephone to order her marketing. -</p> - -<p> -"When I was young," she said to Constance, -"there was only one set bath-tub in a house, if any, -and no modern plumbing. We carried hot water -upstairs in pails, and those who drew water from -the boiler poured in as much as they took. But -there are so many labor-saving machines to-day, -that sheer laziness is at a premium. Gordon -declares that I'm all wrong, and that more people -are clean and comfortable as a consequence. Then, -as to the wall-papers and carpets and upholstery, -well, they're pretty, I can't deny that. But, -somehow, it goes against my grain to see so many bright -colors. Yet when I say it looks frivolous, Gordon -simply laughs. So I've promised to hold my -tongue until everything is finished, and to let him -have his way. He likes to have his way almost -as much as I do mine, Mrs. Stuart, and the -strangest part is that, though he doesn't always -convince me, I have a secret feeling that he must -be right." -</p> - -<p> -Constance was taken to see the new house in one -of the outlying and more fashionable wards of the -city, which, as Mrs. Perry had declared, was -supplied with all the modern improvements and was -being furnished with an eye to artistic taste. It -became evident that the old lady, despite her -misgivings, was very proud at heart of the whole -establishment, but that her satisfaction centred in -the library—her son's room—a cosey, spacious -apartment with tall shelves for his books and -various conveniences adapted to a bachelor and a -student. As standing on the threshold, she -exhibited it to her guest with a shy pride, which -almost seemed to gasp at the effects disclosed, she -murmured: "It sometimes seems to me a wicked -waste of money; but I'm glad to think he's going -to be so comfortable." -</p> - -<p> -Constance replied, "It's a delightful room. -Just the place, restful to the body and stimulating -to the spirit, which a busy man like Mr. Perry -ought to have." -</p> - -<p> -"There can be nothing too good for him, if -that's what you mean." -</p> - -<p> -"I heartily assent," said Constance, smiling. -"And I agree with your son that it is sensible and -right to surround oneself with pretty things if one -has the means." -</p> - -<p> -"I guess that he must have talked it over with -you," said the old lady, with a keen glance. -</p> - -<p> -"No." -</p> - -<p> -"Well, it's a wonder he hasn't, for he sets -store by your opinion on lots of things. In my -day, compliments weren't considered good for -young people, but I don't believe from your -looks that you'll work any the less well because -I let you know what he thinks of you. He was -saying the other day that he feared you must find -thumping on that machine of yours, week in and -week out, and taking down letters in double-quick -time, dull work, and I told him that a woman of -the right sort, with two children to support, had -no time to feel dull or to think about her feelings, -but was thankful for the chance of steady -employment. You see I know something about that -myself. You have your boy and girl to keep your -thoughts busy, just as I had him." -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, indeed. But it is a pleasure to work for -Mr. Perry. No man is a hero to his valet, and -need not be, I suppose, to his stenographer. You -won't think it presumptuous of me to say that he -has been very considerate, and that I enjoy taking -down his words because he is so intelligent and so -thorough?" -</p> - -<p> -"There's no one who likes to hear nice things -said about him so well as his mother. There's only -one fault about him, so far as I know, and that -may be cured any day. He's a bachelor. I would -move straight out of this house to-morrow in order -to see him well married." -</p> - -<p> -"That wouldn't be necessary, I imagine, Mrs. Perry." -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, it would. I should make a detestable -mother-in-law. Gordon gets his clear-headedness -from me, and I know my own faults. I shouldn't -be jealous, but I should wish her to do things in -my way, and she would wish to do them in hers, -so we should clash. I wouldn't risk it. But I'd -be willing to die to-morrow and never to kiss my -grandchildren if only he had a good wife. I -should be very particular, though." -</p> - -<p> -"I should think so. I hope with all my heart -that he may meet a woman worthy of him." Constance -was a little surprised by her own fervor. -Expressed in sound it seemed to her almost -familiar. Then, without knowing why, she sighed. -Was it because she painfully recalled that marriage -was a lottery? -</p> - -<p> -Mrs. Perry evidently ascribed the sigh to that -source, for after regarding her a moment, she said -softly, "It was easier for me than it is for you. -When I lost my husband we were very happy. -You are left alone. You see my son has told me -your story." -</p> - -<p> -"I am glad that you should know." -</p> - -<p> -"But you are young, my dear. Young and a -charming looking, lovable woman. The right -man may come along. Who knows?" -</p> - -<p> -Constance stared at her in astonishment. "My -husband is not dead," she said, a little formally. -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, I know. He deserted you." -</p> - -<p> -"But he is alive." -</p> - -<p> -"Gordon told me that you had not been divorced." -</p> - -<p> -"I have never thought of such a thing." -</p> - -<p> -"You know where he is?" -</p> - -<p> -"I have not seen him or heard from him since -the day he left me nearly three years ago." -</p> - -<p> -"Precisely." -</p> - -<p> -"He is the father of my children, however." -</p> - -<p> -For a moment Mrs. Perry seemed to be pondering -the thesis contained in her single word of -deduction, and her visitor's reply. Then she bent -her shrewd eyes on Constance, and said with a -quiet pithiness of utterance, which reminded the -latter of her employer. "I was not tempted to -marry again because I loved my husband, and -could not forget him. But I've never been able -to convince my common sense that it is fair to -asperse the woman who marries again after the -law has separated her forever from the man who -has done her a grievous wrong, but to think it only -right and fitting for a widow to take a second -husband when the first whom she has loved, and who -has loved her, is in the grave. If I were a young -woman on my death-bed, I expect I couldn't make -up my mind to beg my husband to marry again. -But I couldn't blame him if he did. It's the way -of human nature, often as not. It's hateful to be -lonely. And why shouldn't the girl marry again, -who has been left in the lurch by a cruel man, who -has been false to the vow he took to support and -protect her? Only the other day a rich merchant -whom my son knows, a man of over sixty, who -had lived with his wife for thirty years, married -again before she had been dead twelve months, -and they had a solemn church wedding. It was -your clergyman, Mrs. Stuart, who married them. -I'd call it disgusting, except that some people said -he was solitary, although he had daughters. But -to make fish of one and flesh of the other, isn't -just. I'm an old woman, and the longer I live the -more I dote on justice." -</p> - -<p> -"I remember now. I know whom you mean. -Loretta insisted on reading me the account of it -from the newspaper. I've seen him in church. He -is one of the vestrymen." -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, it was a society function. But I don't -judge him," said Mrs. Perry, sitting up straight -to emphasize her intention to be dispassionate. -"Men are queer. His wife was dead, and he had -the right to ask another woman to fill her place. -But why, then, should anyone criticise you?" -</p> - -<p> -"Have you heard anyone criticise me?" Constance -asked, hoping to extricate the conversation -from the depths of this argument by a ripple on -the surface. -</p> - -<p> -"Some of them would. You did yourself, you know." -</p> - -<p> -"It was a new idea to me. I have never thought -of marrying." After a moment's silence, she -added, simply: "How would you like your son to -marry a divorced woman, Mrs. Perry?" -</p> - -<p> -Her mind had picked out, instinctively, the crucial -question. The old lady gave a little gasp and -start. -</p> - -<p> -"A divorced woman? Gordon?" Then she -laughed. "The way you said 'divorced woman' -had a formidable sound." The personal application -was evidently a surprise to her; evidently, too, -it interested her, and she wrestled with it sitting -erect and bright-eyed. In another moment she -had worked out the answer to her own satisfaction. -"It would depend upon her—what she was -like. If she were innocent—if she had been grossly -wronged, and had sought the relief from her -distress which the laws allow, and I liked her and -he loved her, I shouldn't object. Or, put it in this -way: I should prefer that Gordon did not marry -a widow, but a girl with all the freshness of her life -before her." -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, indeed," murmured Constance. -</p> - -<p> -"But plenty of young men fall in love with -widows and marry, and no one thinks any the -worse of the widows, or of them. I'd fully as lief -Gordon married a divorced woman as one who -had buried her husband. And if I were sure she -was a fine woman, I can imagine my sentiment -vanishing like moonshine, and my not minding a bit." -</p> - -<p> -Constance shook her head thoughtfully. "He -must marry some fine, sweet girl without a past," -she said with gentle positiveness. -</p> - -<p> -"Amen to that, my dear. And the sooner the -better." -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -One day early in September, in the summer -following the date of this conversation, Paul Howard -entered the office. As he passed into Gordon's -private room, omitting the gay greeting which he was -wont to exchange with her, Constance noticed that -his expression was grave and tense, and that he -looked tired. She said to herself that his summer -at Newport could not have rested him. -</p> - -<p> -It was Paul's second season at Newport. In -accordance with his half-humorous prediction, he -had hired there, the previous summer, one of the -most desirable villas, a spacious establishment -with a superb outlook to sea. He had maintained -a large steam yacht, and an elaborate stable, and -had entertained lavishly. All to please his wife. -At least so he regarded it, and this was in a large -measure the truth. Ever since his marriage, five -years back, Paul had been thinking that he would -like to spend his vacation in some cool, picturesque -spot, far from scenes of social display, where with -his wife he could enjoy the beauties of nature -unreservedly, and recuperate from the fatigues of -the winter. But, though he had hankered after -this in theory, and had broached the project to -Mrs. Howard, somehow it had never come to pass, -and he had been secretly aware for some time that -it never would, unless one of them had nervous -prostration and were ordered away by a physician. -For when one is a millionaire and has an ambitious -wife, one gets into the way of doing what other -millionaires do, and becomes acclimated to the -amusements proper to millionaires, until presently -the necessity of having luxuries at one's fingers' -ends makes any other programme seem insipid -and a bore. Those who neglect to follow their -own tastes cannot fail to be moulded by the tastes -which they adopt. We readily habituate ourselves -to our surroundings, whether it be too few baths, -or too many. Paul delighted in the plumbing -facilities of his establishment. He was perpetually -taking baths and changing his underclothes, and -the apprehension lest this orgie be interfered with -had taken the edge off his desire for closer -contact with the beauties of nature. He recognized -the change in himself, but charged it to the account -of the spirit of the age, that convenient depository -of modern philosophers. So, by the end of that -first summer, he had found himself content rather -than otherwise with the experience and disposed -to return. To begin with, his wife was enthusiastic. -As she expressed it, she had had the time -of her life, which was comforting. Although -from Monday morning to Thursday night had -been spent by him in New York (he had arranged -to be absent from Benham during the summer -months and take temporary charge of the New -York office), the rest of the week was passed at -Newport, and for the trip he had his own -comfortable yacht. Besides, he took a fortnight in -August, during the time of the New York Yacht -Club cruise, with its opportunities to meet -familiarly men of importance in the financial world. -There was golf and riding and driving, his baths -and cocktails. If he found the widely advertised, -and rather foolish, extravagant entertainments in -dog-day August, to which his wife dragged him, -tedious, he could generally slip away early if she -wished to stay to dance, and often he could -manage to be in New York when they occurred. -Besides, since to be present at them seemed to be -regarded as social recognition, he was gratified to -be treated as a millionaire would wish to be treated -in the society of millionaires. To go, or at least -to be represented by his wife, who made his -excuses most charmingly he was told, showed that -he had not been left out, which is the controlling -reason why people go to festivities at Newport, -except to those where trinkets of real value are -given away in the course of the evening. Paul -had fully intended to renounce cocktails. In fact, -he had sworn off at Benham; but since they -appeared to take the place of a grace before meat -at every gathering of Newport's fashionable male -contingent, he had yielded again like a good -fellow to the spirit of the age just for one summer. -One swallow does not make a summer, as we all -know, and similarly, destiny often requires more -than one summer to carry the spirit of the age to -its logical conclusions. This is true of the effect -of cocktails on the coats of the stomach, according -to the best medical authorities. But we are -not considering that here. Indeed, the working -out process which Paul now found confronting -him was outside of himself and concerned him -chiefly as a victim. If his first summer at Newport -had been propitious, taking all things, including -the spirit of the age, into consideration, the second -had been productive of momentous issues. It was -in relation to these that Paul had come to consult -Gordon Perry, his friend and legal adviser. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap15"></a></p> - -<h3> -XV -</h3> - -<p> -Gordon Perry looked up from his desk -with an air of surprise. "Why, Paul, I -thought you'd shaken the dust of Benham from -your feet until the last of the month." Then -noticing his client's face as they joined hands, he -added, "I hope nothing has gone wrong." -</p> - -<p> -"Everything is wrong." Paul seated himself -with grave deliberation. "Are you at leisure? -What I have to consult you about will take some -time." -</p> - -<p> -"No one shall disturb us." -</p> - -<p> -"It isn't business." Then, after a moment's -silence, "It's my wife. She has betrayed me." -</p> - -<p> -"Your wife betrayed you?" Gordon, as in his -bewilderment he echoed the words, recalled a -woman with a dainty figure, a small, sphinx-like -mouth, full cheeks devoid of color, and black hair. -He had never been at Paul's house, but he had -been introduced to her, and he had frequently seen -her and her little girl driving in her victoria, a -picture of up-to-date fastidiousness. At the time -of her marriage she had been called the prettiest -girl in Benham. She was the daughter of a -St. Louis contractor with a reputation for executive -ability, who had moved to Benham in her childhood -to become the president of a car-building -company. Paul's friends had intimated that he -had gone rather out of his way to marry her. -Certainly it had been considered a brilliant match -for her. -</p> - -<p> -"Yes. It's a pretty kettle of fish, as you'll -appreciate when you hear the story; a hopeless case -so far as our living together is concerned. I've -come to you for advice and to talk it over, though -she and I threshed out the situation four days ago. -</p> - -<p> -"May I smoke? Thanks. You don't here, I -know; but I go from cigar to cigar to keep my -nerves straight, for I'm still dazed, and I haven't -slept much." -</p> - -<p> -"It's ghastly," murmured Gordon. -</p> - -<p> -"Now that I look back I suppose I ought to -have realized that she never really cared for me. -Perhaps the gradual, unconscious perception of -that reacted on me. I fell dead in love with her -looks, and would have worshipped the ground she -trod on had she proved what I thought her to be. -As it is, I'm humiliated, angry, disgusted, all at -sea. But I can see that we should never be happy -together again. Love in the true sense is over on -both sides. I tell you this, Gordon, to begin with. -You haven't heard anything?" -</p> - -<p> -"Not a word." -</p> - -<p> -"I thought it likely they had copied the item -from the Newport into the Benham newspapers. -Five nights ago I popped at a man in my house -with a revolver—a long shot—just as he was -escaping over the balcony outside my wife's -apartment, and missed. At the moment I would have -given half my fortune to kill him. I dare say, it's -just as well I didn't. There would have been a -bigger scandal. It was one o'clock, and someone -who heard the noise—servants, I know not -who—talked, and two days later there appeared in one -of the newspapers an allusion to the mysterious -midnight pistol shot on the Howard place. A -reporter called on me; I declined to see him, but my -butler, who can be trusted, had instructions to say -I was shooting cats. That's all the public knows -as yet. Here's a nice problem for the women's -debating clubs: A man discovers his wife's lover -in his place; ought he to shoot him like a rat on the -spot, or accept the situation for what it is worth, -just as he has to accept a death in the family, a -fire, or any other visitation of Providence? -Eh?" Paul gave a short laugh. "Of course the primitive -man shot every time. But we can remember one -husband who did shoot and who killed, and that -all the exquisite people and some of the wise -people shook their heads and declared he ought to -have thought of his daughters. There was a -world-wide scandal, and after the funeral we were -told that the husband had always been a crank, -in proof of which he died later in an insane asylum, -while his wife has hovered on the outskirts of the -smart set ever since as a sort of blessed martyr -to the rigor of conventions. No, my dear fellow, -the only decent thing for me to do now is to -compromise myself deliberately with some common -woman, so as to give my wife the chance to obtain -a divorce from me. That is the duty of the -gallant modern husband, according to the nicest and -latest fashionable code." -</p> - -<p> -"You will do nothing of the kind, Paul." -</p> - -<p> -"Wait until you have mulled over it as I have, -For the sake of my little girl her mother's -reputation must be sacred." -</p> - -<p> -"I see. Then her misconduct is not known?" -</p> - -<p> -"It's a profound secret. That is, no one has -seen her in the act, but it seems that all Newport -except myself has taken it for granted and been -whispering about it all summer. It began last -summer, dolt that I was. But it's not known -officially. That is, the newspapers have not got -on to it." Paul made a movement of impatience -and, rising, took a turn or two across the office. -He stopped in front of Gordon and said: "Mind -you, the temptation to kill him like a rat was not -presented to me. I don't say I would have done -it. I don't know what I would have done under -all the circumstances—the gruesome circumstances—had -we been face to face and he unarmed. He -heard me and fled by the window. I was in the -ante-room and stepped out on the balcony, and -running round merely saw a disappearing figure. I -did not know who he was, but I surmised; and on -the spur of the moment I felt it was almost a -hopeless shot. Who do you suppose he was?" -</p> - -<p> -"I have no idea, of course." -</p> - -<p> -"Guess." -</p> - -<p> -"It would be useless. I know no one at -Newport except yourself, Paul." -</p> - -<p> -"Oh, yes, you do. Here's situation number two -in the tragedy. It was my cousin Lucille's -husband, Clarence Waldo." -</p> - -<p> -"For Heaven's sake!" Gordon ejaculated. "It -can't be possible." -</p> - -<p> -Paul's laugh broke forth again. "Stunning, -isn't it? No dramatist can improve on that. But -I can. I know what you're thinking," he said, -folding his arms, as he stood before Gordon with -a saturnine glee, as though he were enjoying the -other's consternation. "You're wondering what -Mrs. Wilson will say?" -</p> - -<p> -Gordon shook his head. "It is terrible for her, -of course. But I was thinking of your poor -cousin." -</p> - -<p> -"Spare your pity in that quarter, man, until -you know the truth. Situation number three! -Lucille and her husband have fallen out, agreed to -differ, ceased to love each other, never have loved -each other, and are to be divorced as soon as -circumstances will permit. Waldo is to marry my -wife, and she—Lucille—has plighted her troth to -Bradbury Nicholson, of New York, a son of the -president of the Chemical Trust, of whom she is -enamoured, and with whom, it seems, she has been -carrying on clandestinely for months. Didn't I -tell you I could improve on myself? The curtain -now to red fire and the strains of Tschaikowsky!" -</p> - -<p> -Paul flung himself into his chair, and squared -his jaw. For a moment he looked like his father. -</p> - -<p> -Gordon gazed at him with a brow of dismay. -"How do you know this?" -</p> - -<p> -"From my wife. She made a clean breast of -their affairs, and seemed to be rather surprised -that I didn't know. It's all cut and dried. That -is, it is to work out that way in the end, and soon, -if I'm accommodating. And I am expected to be. -After the first flare-up, which was all on my part, -and did not take place until next morning, we -talked in our ordinary voices, as we are talking -now." Since the climax of his narration, Paul's -sensational tone had ceased. He seemed simply -tired, as though he had been suddenly let down. -"She set me the example. You know her face. -She looked whiter than ever, but was perfectly -clear and explicit. She said it was evident we were -not suited to each other. Although I agreed with -her, I was fool enough to ask her why, and she -intimated politely, but clearly, that I bored -her—said we did not care for the same things. She -admitted that I was not to blame for that, and that -I had been very generous in money matters. Then -we talked and we talked and we talked, at that -time and again in the evening, until the small -hours. The upshot is, we're to be divorced as soon -as it can be arranged. She is to desert me, or I -her. She seemed to be posted as to the law. Or, -whatever way you suggest. I've given in. She -appealed to my common sense, as she called it. -She told me that we had made a mistake, that we -both knew it, and that the sooner we recognized -it, the better. That there need be no disagreeable -publicity beyond the fact that we were no longer -to be husband and wife. I couldn't deny that my -love for her was dead. The only difficult question -was the child. Neither of us wished to give -her up, and each of us would like to have her all -the time. -</p> - -<p> -"Poor little thing!" -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, indeed. When I thought of Helen, I -told my wife at first that I was ready to preserve -the outward forms of living together, in the teeth -of her unfaithfulness, for the sake of our child. -But she told me that I was old-fashioned. She -asked whether I thought it would be worse for -Helen, or whether Helen would be less happy to -live as we should mutually arrange than to grow -up in a wretched household, where the father and -mother were utterly at variance. That was a -poser. It's the devil either way. What do you -think?" -</p> - -<p> -"It's the devil, as you say. Amen, to that! -But if it's got to be—got to be," Gordon reiterated, -"I'm inclined to think your wife was right -in terming your protest old-fashioned. Where a -marriage is utterly blasted, to retain the husk -merely for the sake of the children must fail, it -seems to me, in nine cases out of ten, to accomplish -its purpose—to preserve what society is -pleased to call the sanctity of the home." -</p> - -<p> -"There would not be much sanctity left in -mine," Paul murmured. "However, when she -saw that I was determined to have my full share -of Helen, or fight, we came to terms. Helen is -to spend her winters with me, her summer -vacations with her mother; or some such arrangement; -and, of course, I am to provide for the child." Paul -paused reflectively. "I don't think it ever -occurred to my wife that we do not stand on an -equal footing, and that she would not be the best -of moral influences for a daughter. It seems to -be an answer to everything that we were not -sympathetic, and that she has met somebody who is; -her affinity, as they say. I had observed her -intimacy with Waldo, and was aware of some cases -at Newport where women had compromised -themselves with other women's husbands; and, though -I didn't exactly fancy Waldo's attentions, and had -hinted to her twice my disapproval—to which the -first time she pleaded surprise, and the second, -shrugged her shoulders—I never divined the truth -until I received this." He drew a letter from his -pocket and handed it to Gordon. "Even then, I -couldn't believe the worst." -</p> - -<p> -Gordon perused the contents of the envelope, a -single sheet of paper on which were the words: -"When the cat's away, the mice will play." -</p> - -<p> -"Humph! Anonymous!" he said. -</p> - -<p> -"She asked me what brought matters to a crisis, -and I told her. She thinks it must have been sent -by a maid whom she discharged. I received it at -my New York office in the middle of the week, -and the following Sunday night, instead of -leaving Newport in my yacht, as usual, I pretended to -do so, and returned late to my house on foot. -The rest you know. It may be I was too much -absorbed in my business. However, it's all over -now, and it's best it should be over. What I wish -is advice as to the necessary steps; that you should -tell me what I ought to do." -</p> - -<p> -"As to a divorce?" -</p> - -<p> -"Yes. She is to follow my instructions in regard -to it." -</p> - -<p> -"And what as to the others—the Waldos?" -</p> - -<p> -"No wonder you ask. I put the same question -to her, and she told me that I needn't concern -myself about them; that they would find a way." -</p> - -<p> -"There are certainly various ways if people -choose to connive at divorce. There are certain -States where the residence essential to give the -court jurisdiction can be obtained in a pitifully -short time—even as short as three months, and -where an agreement to live apart is allowed, -through lack of scrutiny, to pass for genuine -desertion. If Mrs. Waldo and her husband have -both been guilty of infidelity, neither is entitled -to a decree of divorce in any court of justice. But -that concerns them, not you. I was merely voicing -the regret which every decent man feels that there -shouldn't be a uniform law in all our States. But -here one runs up against the vested rights of -sovereign peoples. It's a far cry from South -Carolina, where no divorce is granted for any cause -whatever, to Wisconsin or Colorado, where -desertion for one year is sufficient. Yet, if one had -to choose between the two, there is less injustice -and more regard for the welfare of society in the -latter extreme, radical as it is, than in the former. -Whatever happens, the world will never go back -to marital chains and slavery." Turning to the -book-case at his elbow, Gordon selected a law book -and opened it. "I don't hanker after divorce cases, -but I'm very glad you have come to me, Paul. I -was simply shocked, at first; let me tell you now -how heartily sorry I am for you." -</p> - -<p> -"Thank you, Don. I knew you would be. As -to my cousin, Lucille, I cannot say, positively, that -she has taken the final step—actually sinned. My -wife admitted that she had no real knowledge, -though she took the worst for granted. But it is -certain that the marriage is at an end, that she and -her husband are hopelessly alienated, and that at -the first opportunity she will marry this young -Nicholson. As to myself, you agree with me, don't -you, that a divorce is the only possible, the only -sensible, course to adopt?" -</p> - -<p> -Gordon paused a moment before replying. -"The only possible, no; the only sensible—since -you ask me as a friend as well as a client—in my -opinion, yes. It's a point which every man must -decide for himself, if it confronts him. Some -people would say to you that you should stick to your -wife, not live with her necessarily, but refuse to -break the bond; that she might repent and return -to you. It seems to me, though, that if my wife -had been false to me and my love for her were -dead, I would not allow such a sentiment—and it -is only sentiment—to tie me forever to a woman -who was no longer my wife, except in name. Your -life is before you. Why should a vitiated -contract be a bar between you and happiness? You -may wish to marry again." -</p> - -<p> -Paul shook his head. -</p> - -<p> -"Naturally you don't think so, now. But why not?" -</p> - -<p> -"As George the Second said, '<i>j'aurai des -maitresses</i>,'" Paul answered, a little bitterly. -</p> - -<p> -"Exactly!" exclaimed Gordon, with eagerness. -"The continuance of such a bond would be a -premium on immorality. That's a point which -sentimentalists do not take sufficiently into account. -Why is it necessary to marry again, they ask. For -one thing, because a man's a man, as you and I -know. It's a new question to me, Paul, because, -though it's one of the questions ever on the -surface, I have never had to deal with it squarely -until now. The more I think of it the more sure -I am that a divorce would be sensible, and more -than that, sensible in the highest sense, without a -jot or a tittle of deprecation. I know; you don't -wish to have to apologize. All I can say is, if I -were in your shoes, I would do the same. You -have a right to your freedom." -</p> - -<p> -"I couldn't see it in any other light. Besides, -my wife is bent on being free, herself. If I do -not apply for a divorce, she will—and in the -shortest way." -</p> - -<p> -"As to the method," continued Gordon, after a -moment's scrutiny of the volume before him, "it -is simple enough—a mere question of time. In -this State where a party is guilty of a cause for -divorce—as in this case, infidelity—the injured -party is justified in leaving the home, and after -such separation has continued for the statutory -period, the injured party may obtain a divorce for -desertion. Or, simpler still, your wife can desert -you, and after the necessary time has elapsed, the -same result would follow. The statutory period -is three years." -</p> - -<p> -"My wife will not like that." -</p> - -<p> -"It is the only course, if she desires to preserve -her reputation. If she prefers to have you bring -a libel for divorce on the ground of infidelity, she -can be free in a much shorter time. Also she could -obtain her liberty somewhat sooner by changing -her residence to a more accommodating jurisdiction -and asking a divorce from you. Provided -you offered no opposition, she might succeed, but -that would be a back-handed method discreditable -to you both, and an evasion of the laws of this -State, which might, hereafter, be productive of -unpleasant complications. It's a sad business, but -you should have a clean job." -</p> - -<p> -"Assuredly. We could separate at once?" -</p> - -<p> -"Yes. But one of you must actually desert the -other. An agreement to live apart does not -constitute legal desertion. On the other hand, if she -were to leave your house, the court would not -inquire what was going on in your mind, provided -you did not show by any overt sign that you wished -to get rid of her. You can be glad, but you must -not say so." -</p> - -<p> -"I understand. She need not be burdened with -my presence from the outset. As for marrying -Waldo, she must wait her three years." -</p> - -<p> -"And she may be thankful that she will be able -to marry as soon as the divorce is absolute. In -some States the person against whom a divorce is -granted, is forbidden to marry altogether, or for -a period of years as a punishment. To forbid -marriage altogether, in such cases, appears to me -another premium on immorality. To forbid it -for a time, may sometimes prevent indecent haste -on the part of the guilty, but it is a good deal like -keeping after school children who have been -naughty. Besides, the party forbidden to marry, -as in New York, for instance, has merely to step -into New Jersey and be married, and the second -marriage will be held legal by the New York -courts and everywhere else." -</p> - -<p> -Paul was silent for a few moments. "That -seems to me a decent programme. My wife can -go to Europe, and—and when the time is up, -marry Waldo. It's easy as rolling off a log." He -clapped his strong hand on the wooden arm of his -chair, so that it resounded. "My father will be -terribly cut up. My aunt—God knows what she -will say or do. As for myself"—he paused while -he lit a fresh cigar—"I shall have to go into -politics." -</p> - -<p> -"Politics?" -</p> - -<p> -"Yes. I'd like to go to Congress." Paul sat -back in his chair with the air of one taking a -fresh brace on life. "I've always intended to, -sooner or later. Had it at the back of my mind. -But now—well, if I were sent to Washington, and -presently got a foreign mission, my wife might -feel sorry for a few minutes that I bored her. Yet -I wouldn't have her back. Waldo is welcome to -her. The real reason," he added, suddenly, after -another pause, "is that I've been asked. One of -the Republican State Committee spoke to me about -it in June, just before I went to Newport. The -election isn't until a year from this autumn. I -told him I'd think it over. I've got to do something -to counteract this disgrace, and to forget it. -Well, I must be going. I'll see you again as soon -as I hear from my wife." -</p> - -<p> -Gordon detained him. "You mustn't take too -despondent a view of it. After all, it's not your -fault, it's your misfortune. All your friends will -recognize that; and no one will be able to -understand how any woman could weary of the love of -a man like you, and prefer a listless, pleasure-seeker, -such as Clarence Waldo." -</p> - -<p> -Paul shrugged his shoulders. "It's the spirit -of the age, I suppose. I'm not sorry, I tell you, -but I'm piqued. We are shells upon the beach. -The tide sweeps us along even though we know it -is the tide, and can say of the next man, 'what -a fool he is, to drift like that!' But what is a -fellow to do? How is he to escape? I'm a -millionaire—I'm likely to be several times that if -nothing breaks. I didn't wish to go to Newport, -but I went. I don't care for half the things I -do, but they have to be done; that is, I do them -of my own accord, when the time comes, and, -though I kick, I know I should regret not doing -them merely because they seem to be the proper -things for people of my kind. There you are. I -have a sort of double self, as you know. It isn't -that I'm weak, it's—what do you call it?—the -force of my environment. And a millionaire's -environment has a pressure of two hundred pounds -to the square inch. It's the same with the women. -What with rich food, splendid apparel, perpetual -self-indulgence, and the power which money gives -them to gratify every whim, is it any wonder that -they don't let a little thing like the marriage vow -stand in the way of their individual preferences? -Who is to hold them to account? The church? -Some of them go to church, but in their hearts -they are satisfied that this is the only world. And -as to loss of social position—of which they really -would be afraid—the tide is with them. There -are too many sympathizers. Or at least, it is -inconvenient to be obliged to hurt other people's -feelings in a free country." -</p> - -<p> -"Rather a formidable indictment against Newport," -said Gordon. -</p> - -<p> -"It isn't against Newport. It's against the -plutocracy all over the country. Newport merely -happens to be the place where very rich men with -social instincts most do congregate in summer. -My domestic tragedy is typical, yet sporadic. -Every season has its crop, but, numerically, it is -small. Infidelity is only one of the phases of the -spirit—but the spirit is rampant. Money-money-money, -luxury-luxury-luxury, self-self-self (individualism, -they call it), and in the process everything -is thrown overboard, except the American -flag, and life becomes one grand hurrah, boys, with -no limitations, save murder and lack of physical -cleanliness. And I belong to the procession, my -dear fellow. I'm disgusted with it at the moment, -that's why I rail. But in six months I shall be in -it again. See if I'm not." -</p> - -<p> -"You're simply depressed, Paul, and no wonder," -said Gordon, with genial solicitude. "But -we mustn't judge our plutocracy—aristocracy, or -whatever you choose to call the personal -representatives of the prosperity of the country—by -the antics of a few, disgusting as they are. I -agree that their behavior apes the frivolity and -license of the old French court without its -elegance, and I don't suppose that the founders of -our institutions ever included a leisure class as a -part of their scheme. Absorbed in ideals, they -neglected to take poor human nature sufficiently -into account. We have lost the buffalo, but we -have acquired a leisure class, and we must make -the best of it, not the worst. We can't cut their -heads off; this is a free country. It would be -dreadful—dreadful, wouldn't it, if our -institutions, of which we are so proud, were to produce -merely the same old thing over again—a leisure -class of voluptuaries?" Gordon paused for a -moment and his smile died away at the vision which -his words evoked. "I don't intend to believe it; -you don't. There are students of destiny who -maintain that nations rise, reach maturity and -decline by regular economic laws, but that human -nature never really improves. That's fatalism. -The free play of human individualism is having -its last grand chance here in these United States. -If our aristocracy proves no better than any other—if -the rich and powerful are to sneer at morals -and wallow in licentiousness, we couldn't blame -society if it should try a strong dose of socialism, -with its repressing, monotonous dead level, rather -than accept the doctrine that the law of supply -and demand is the sole ruler of the universe. But -as good Americans we can't afford to judge our -plutocracy, as yet, by the vices of a few people at -Newport." -</p> - -<p> -"They sin in such a cold-blooded way," said -Paul. "If they really cared, as some of the -foreigners do, one could understand; but they don't." -</p> - -<p> -"I know. It's one of the canons of old-world -traditions that adultery is almost redeemed by the -possession of an artistic sense. To commit the -one without possessing the other, may be no worse -morally, yet it seems much more vulgar. But we -mustn't take them too seriously, even though they -are our countrymen and women. They are the -exceptions—the excrescences. Look at your father, -for instance. He belongs to them—but he is not -of them. The same is true of yourself; and it is -a privilege, with all its responsibilities, a privilege -I envy you. Who wouldn't be a multi-millionaire -if he could? What is more alluring than power?" -</p> - -<p> -Paul returned the pressure of his friend's hand. -"You're a good fellow, Don. I suppose I'm -hipped. That's not my way, as you know. -Usually everything with me is rose color; I'm too -good an American, if anything." He buttoned his -well-fitting coat with a dignified air, as though the -pride of the suggestion had stirred his pulses like -a brass band. "The trouble is, that when I'm -feeling well, everything goes, and the only thing -which seems of importance is to come out ahead of -the other fellow. So we kick over standards and -degenerate. This time I've been struck with a -club, and—and I don't see that it's my fault. -Well, good-bye. As soon as I hear, I'll let you -know." -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap16"></a></p> - -<h3> -XVI -</h3> - -<p> -There was only one shadow on Constance's -present happiness, for she was happy in her -independence and her work. She had demonstrated -her ability to support herself and to defy -the blow of fate which had deprived her of a -husband's aid and protection. It was the growing -perception that she might not be able to do all -she desired for her children. This sprang from -her own keener appreciation of the value not only -of the best educational advantages, but of refined -personal surroundings in the development of -character. She could inculcate noble morals; she -could teach her children to be truthful, brave, and -simple; she could provide them with public school -instruction, and she was resolved to give them, if -her health remained good, the opportunity to -continue their education longer than was the wont -with parents whose offspring had their own way -to make in life unaided. But her ambition, or -rather her perception of what she desired for -them, did not stop here. There were present -demands which must be neglected solely because -of her straitened circumstances; and she beheld -ahead a long and widening vista of privileges -from which, perforce, they would be debarred -during the formative years for a similar reason. -Henrietta's teeth were disconcertingly crooked, -and should have the continuous attention of a -skilful dentist, and her voice had already that nasal -twang which, if unchecked, is sure to result in -feminine inelegance of speech. She wished that -both the children, especially the girl, might have -thorough instruction in French and music, and be -sent to dancing school. Little Emil was giving -signs of marked talent for drawing, and the -thought of how that gift could be developed, was -already causing her concern. It was obvious to -her that each of the next ten years had more -insistent instances in store for her. She knew that -she could give her children what the democratic -world delights to call a solid foundation, but she -was eager to equip them with stimulating mental -ideals and bodily graces, to put them within reach -of excellence and culture. -</p> - -<p> -She was too grateful to repine or to allow this -shadow to oppress her spirit. Its sole effect was -to stimulate her energies, to make her fertile in -resources to counteract this disability, and -painstaking in attention to her duties in the hope of a -small increase in salary. She kept a close watch -on Henrietta's voice, and put her on her own -guard against its piercing quality; she organized a -small dancing class from among the children in -Lincoln Chambers for one evening in the week, -and from her own past experience essayed their -instruction in waltzing and social decorum. Also, -on Sunday afternoons, she would often lure Emil -and Henrietta to the new Art Museum and give -them the opportunity which her own youth had -lacked to discern artistic form and color, and to -acquire inspiration from world-famous or -exemplary paintings and sculpture. Then there -suddenly came to her as treasure-trove a new fund to -be drawn on for such purposes. Her employer, -scanning the field of philanthropy by the light of -his own professional experience, had realized that -there was need in Benham of a legal aid society—that -is, of an organization which would defray -the charges of a firm of attorneys to whom people -in utter distress, without means, and with petty but -desperate grievances in which busy lawyers could -not afford to interest themselves, could apply for -succor. When it appeared that the clerical duties -incident to the fund collected for this charity must -be performed by some suitable person, it occurred -to Gordon Perry—he had been seeking some such -occasion—that Mrs. Stuart would make an -admirable secretary and treasurer, especially as he -intended that the society should pay two hundred -dollars for the annual service. Constance's heart -throbbed with delight at the announcement, and -the first fifty dollars was devoted by her to the -treatment of Henrietta's irregular front teeth. -Would she be able some day to send Emil to -college? Might she hope that her daughter would -grow to be thoroughly a lady, not merely a smart, -self-sufficient woman, but a gracious, refined, -exquisite spirit like Mrs. Randolph Wilson? In her -outlook for her children's future, she had become -aware that she had set up two individuals for -emulation: the woman whose ęsthetic Christianity -had enriched her life, and the man whose -unaffected intelligence and vigor offered to her daily -observation an example of honorable modern living. -To lift her own flesh and blood above the -rut of mediocre aims and attainments was now -the ambition of her soul, and she was ready to -strain every nerve to bring this to pass. -</p> - -<p class="capcenter"> -<a id="img-252"></a> -<img class="imgcenter" src="images/img-252.jpg" alt="Constance would find her in possession at Lincoln Chambers" /> -<br /> -Constance would find her in possession at Lincoln Chambers -</p> - -<p> -Her acquaintance with Mrs. Perry had ripened -into intimacy. The old lady had taken a strong -fancy to her, and the liking was cordially reciprocated. -This meant increasing friendliness on both -sides. Not infrequently, on her return from the -office, Constance would find her in possession at -Lincoln Chambers with the room warm, five -o'clock tea ready, Henrietta in her lap and Emil -beside her, listening to absorbing reading or -stories, each of which had a pungent, personal -flavor, with a not too obtrusive moral. On the -other hand, Constance was asked to dine every -now and then in the new house, and after dinner, -sometimes it happened that they went to the -theatre with Mr. Perry, or on evenings when he was -busy, the two women would sit cosily with their -work, and conversation never flagged. Women, -when sympathetically attached to each other, -seem to be inexhaustible reservoirs of speech, -which flow with a bubbling copiousness bewildering -to masculine ears. In their case, the hands of -the clock set the only limit to their mutual -enjoyment. The hour of departure brought the single -uncomfortable moments of the evening for -Constance—that is, for the first two evenings. Her -apartment was a full mile distant, but her friends' -house was not more than two hundred yards from -a line of electric cars which passed within a block -from her own door. Until Gordon Perry, who -came out of his library to say good-night, -announced his intention of accompanying her home, -the idea had never occurred to her that it was -necessary, or that he would offer his escort. Yet -such are the inconsistencies of the feminine mind -that the moment he did so she became aware that, -if he had not offered it, she would have felt a -trifle hurt. At the same time she did not wish -him to accompany her. It would be obviously a -superfluous piece of politeness; there was no risk -of any kind in going home in the cars alone. She -told him this in a few words of clear remonstrance. -But he smilingly put on his overcoat, -said it was a beautiful moonlight night, and -assured her that he was anxious for a walk before -going to bed. The idea of his walking only made -the situation worse. Constance turned to his -mother for support, but Mrs. Perry cordially -seconded his assertion that it would do him good, -so there was no escape from acceptance. The -thought of having dragged a busy man—and her -employer—out of his house at night disturbed her -equinamity all the way home, so that although -she delighted in having him as a companion in -the exhilarating autumn air, under a glorious -moon, she determined to prevent its recurrence. -Yet, as she approached her destination, the fear -of seeming ungracious supervened, and she had -almost decided to postpone her protest until the -next time, when he unwittingly gave her an -opportunity to speak by remarking that he hoped -that this was only one of many evenings which -she would spend with them during the winter. -"You must know," he added, "that my mother -has taken a great fancy to you, and that it will not -suit her at all if you are niggardly in your visits." -</p> - -<p> -Constance smiled acquiescingly. "I love your -mother," she said, "and it will be a pleasure to -me to come as often as she wishes." At the same -instant she said to herself, "Now for it!" Whereupon -she began sturdily, "Only, Mr. Perry——" -</p> - -<p> -Why did she pause? She was at a loss to know. -It was the reverse of her custom to begin a -sentence and leave it dangling in this unfinished -manner. She accused herself of being a goose, and, -simultaneously she took a new breath to go on, -only to be met by her companion's blithe sally: -</p> - -<p> -"Only what, Mrs. Stuart?" She could see that -his eyes were laughing. Did he divine what was -choking her? -</p> - -<p> -"Only this: if I come to your mother, you must -let me go home by myself. The electric cars are a -stone's throw from your house, and run close to -mine, so there is not the slightest necessity -for your incommoding yourself." She paused, -troubled. The last turn of the sentence, though -it expressed her meaning, had not the felicitous -sound she desired. -</p> - -<p> -"I came because I knew it would give me pleasure," -he answered, quickly, still with a laughing -light in his eyes, under which she let her own fall -quite unnecessarily, as it seemed to her. She was -provoked with herself. The dialogue had acquired -the aspect of social give and take, which -was entirely remote from her intention. -</p> - -<p> -"I have enjoyed it, too." She felt that this -was the least she could say. "But there is no -need; besides, Mr. Perry, you are my employer, -and—and—" (she was halting again, but she bit -her lip and plunged forward, seeking only to make -herself clear) "that does make a difference—it -should make a difference. If I were—if I were -not your stenographer, I should probably go home -in a carriage, but I can't afford one, and—and the -cars are perfectly safe and comfortable. I am -used to looking after myself." -</p> - -<p> -Her cheeks were burning. She had said what -she meant to say, but it sounded crude and almost -harsh. She wondered now why it had seemed -necessary to her to make such a pother. As no -immediate answer came from Mr. Perry, she stole -a glance at his face. It had grown almost grave, -and there was a different light in his eyes—a -curious expression which puzzled her. "I hope you -understand," she said, "and that I do not seem -ungracious." -</p> - -<p> -"I understand perfectly. I was admiring your -sense—your sanity. Such things do make a -difference—must make a difference, so long as human -nature is constituted as it is; but every woman has -not the hardihood to accept the limitations of her -social lot. As you say, you are used to looking -after yourself. I should not have been guilty of -a breach of manners, had I allowed you to go -home in a car as you came—put you into one, -perhaps, at the street corner, if I were not -occupied. That would have been the natural course -under all the circumstances, although it might -have been equally natural to treat another woman -with more ceremony. I came with you to-night -because it gave me pleasure, as I told you, and -because I wished you to understand that the -relations between us are not those of employer and -employee, but social in every sense. You are my -mother's friend and mine." -</p> - -<p> -Constance's nerves tingled pleasantly at the -apostrophe. "You are very good. You have -always been kindness itself to me. I have felt that -you both were my friends." She put out her hand -shyly and gratefully to bid him good-night, and -at the same time to indicate the warmth in her -heart. "But now that I do understand," she -added, "you must be sensible, too, and realize that I -do not need an escort." She was rather appalled -by her own boldness. His plea had only strengthened -her feeling that his politeness was superfluous. -</p> - -<p> -"Do you forbid it?" he asked, with an inflection -of gayety. -</p> - -<p> -She could not help smiling. "I cannot do that, -you know. But if you wish to make me feel -entirely at home, you will limit yourself at most to -seeing me safely on a car at your street corner." She -felt that she had touched firmer ground—that -she was making her claim as a friend of the family, -not being forced against her will into the pose -of a coquette. -</p> - -<p> -"A compromise!" he ejaculated. "And what a -one-sided one." -</p> - -<p> -"Life is made up of compromises, is it not? -I thought I was being very generous." -</p> - -<p> -There was a gentle, plaintive cadence to her -words which both charmed his ear and touched -his sensibilities. Was she about to strike her flag -in the last ditch out of sheer weariness at his -bravado? -</p> - -<p> -"My only wish would be to please you," he -said with sudden earnestness. -</p> - -<p> -Constance looked at him wonderingly, a little -appalled at the change in his manner and speech. -What had called forth their intensity? She -became conscious that the blood was rising to her -cheeks again, and that she had lost her composure -a second time. For an instant Gordon gazed -at her eagerly, as though he enjoyed her bewilderment, -then with a return of gayety, he exclaimed: -</p> - -<p> -"But I promise nothing—nothing." -</p> - -<p> -He raised his hat and Constance, who had already -entered the vestibule of her apartment-house, -stood irresolute before ascending the stairs -as one in a trance. She was displeased with -herself; for the first time in her life it had seemed to -her that her tongue and her wits were not under the -control of her will. Presently she reflected that -she might be working too hard and was run down, -which on the whole, was comforting, until she -looked in her mirror and saw there the refutation -of this theory in her own hue of health. No, it -could not be this, for there was no blinking the -fact that she had improved notably in her appearance -of late, which was comforting in a different -way. She was so struck by the fact that she stood -for a moment surveying her face and figure with -contemplative surprise. But why had Mr. Perry -been so queer? She asked herself that question -more than once before she fell asleep, and in the -morning ascribed it to her own social inaptness. -</p> - -<p> -The next occasion when she spent the evening -with Mrs. Perry was a fortnight later. When -she was ready to go home Gordon put on his overcoat -without a word and confronted her tantalizingly. -She was conscious of a little disappointment, -for, in spite of his declaration of independence, -she had believed that he would not persist, -but as he opened the front door she heard the -welcome words: -</p> - -<p> -"To-night I am going to comply with your wish -by putting you on a car at the next corner." -</p> - -<p> -"Thank you, very much." She forebore to -add what was in her mind, that it was the only -sensible way. But her little triumph gave -elasticity to her steps. -</p> - -<p> -For the first few moments the night seemed to -set a seal upon his lips as he walked beside her, -so that his response had the effect of being -pondered. "My desire is to please you. But I shall -reserve the right of pleasing myself now and then -as I did the other day." -</p> - -<p> -"It pleased me, too," Constance said, amiably. -"What I feared was that it might become a -custom—an unnecessary burden." -</p> - -<p> -Gordon signalled an approaching car. "A -burden? Mrs. Stuart, the burden of walking home -by moonlight with the wrong woman is one which -men generally manage to shift." -</p> - -<p> -Constance laughed. "Perhaps I should have -thought of that. But now you will be protected -at all events." -</p> - -<p> -From her seat in the electric car she beheld him -standing at the street corner until his figure was lost -in the shadows of the night. She felt complacent. -She had gained her point, and since it was on -terms need she feel otherwise than happy at the -prospect of having him sometimes as a companion -on her journeys home? The more she could see -of him rightfully, without encroaching on his -time, surely the better for her. The discretion -rested with him, not with her; she was simply the -fortunate beneficiary. -</p> - -<p> -So it came to pass that once in three or four -times Gordon would exercise his privilege; and -as another year slipped away and the spring -brought milder nights and more inviting sidewalks, -the occasions became more frequent, so that before -either seemed to be aware of it, the custom -of riding was more honored in the breach -than the observance, and this without further -discussion. They would simply start as though -she were to take an electric car, and before -reaching the corner he would casually interrupt their -discourse to say, "It is a fine night; shall we -walk?" to which Constance would reply, "If you -like." After a while even this formula was -dispensed with, and she was ready to take for -granted that they both preferred the exercise. -One day he asked permission to accompany her -and her children on one of their Sunday afternoon -strolls into the country, a proposal which startled -her, but which she had no obvious excuse for -refusing. On their return home from the excursion -Henrietta and little Emil were so enthusiastic over -this addition to the party that she felt reluctant -on their account to prevent its repetition. So the -experience was renewed every now and then, and, -since he seemed to enjoy it, she accepted it as one -of the pleasures which Providence had thrown in -her way. -</p> - -<p> -Intimacy naturally resulted from this increasing -association. It was a constant comfort to -Constance that Mr. Perry was such a natural -person; that he obviously liked her for herself, but -did not affect to ignore or gloss over the fact that -her life was circumscribed and straitened by her -necessities; that, while assuming that she was -interested in and able to appreciate the finer -aspirations and concerns of existence, he let her perceive -that he understood her predicament. Consequently -she felt at liberty and encouraged to speak to -him from time to time on the subject nearest her -heart—the advancement of her children—and to -ask advice in relation thereto. -</p> - -<p> -On one of their evenings—a moonlight night, -which rivalled in beauty that when he had first -accompanied her—she had been consulting him as to -the conditions of a free art school recently started -in the new Art Museum, having little Emil in -mind. After a short silence she suddenly said, -"I admire your mother greatly, as you know. -But sometimes I am doubtful whether she does -not discourage me even more than she gives me -hope; her example, I mean. She brought you up. -She was almost as friendless as I. I dare say she -did not have so many friends. Yet—yet you are -you. She managed to give you everything." -</p> - -<p> -"God bless her, yes, brave heart that she is." -</p> - -<p> -"But——" -</p> - -<p> -He cut her pensive conjunctive short. "I can -guess what you are going to say. Excuse me; go on." -</p> - -<p> -"I cannot give my children everything. But -everything, then, would not be everything now." -</p> - -<p> -"I divined your thought." The sympathy -radiating from his sturdy tone brought a pleasant -light to her eyes. -</p> - -<p> -"Yet you are you," she reasserted. -</p> - -<p> -He laughed. "Logician and flatterer! But -you are right. My mother would have had a far -harder struggle had she begun to-day. She might -not have been able to give me everything, for -everything then was not everything now, as you -have said." -</p> - -<p> -"Yet you have everything," she persisted, -doughtily. -</p> - -<p> -"Even if that were true, it would not signify. -You are facing a condition, not a theory. Flour -and sugar and standard oil may be cheaper to-day, -but the demands of civilization on the individual -are so much greater—of civilization everywhere, -but especially in this country, where the growth of -prosperity has been so prodigious and the stress -of competition has become so fierce." -</p> - -<p> -"Oh, yes; oh, yes. You understand," she said, -eagerly. "There are so many things which I -should like to give my children which I cannot—which -I know are beyond my reach, but which -would be of infinite service to them in the struggle -to make the most of life. You spoke to me once -of the limitation of my social lot. That is -nothing. What is hard for a mother to bear is -the consciousness that her children will fall short -of what she would wish them to become because -she has not the power to secure for them the best. -Yet it must be borne, and borne bravely." -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, it is lamentably hard. The chief blot on -the triumph of individualism—on the American -principle of the development of self—is that the -choicest privileges of civilization should hang -beyond the reach of those who are handicapped -merely because they are handicapped. The -destruction of the poor is their poverty, as my old -school-master used to state, though I didn't know -then what he meant. And it must be borne, as -you say. Even here, where everything is possible -to the individual, renunciation still stares -the majority in the face as the inexorable -virtue." -</p> - -<p> -"Surely," she answered, with simple pathos. -"Thank you for understanding me. I knew you -would. If I struggle, it is because I am so -ambitious for my children to rise. I would not have -them remain mere hewers of wood and drawers -of water—one of the majority you speak of—as -I have been." -</p> - -<p> -He turned his face toward her. "You are far -more than that, you are a sweet woman. You -must not underestimate character in your recognition -of the power of things. You can give your -children that, and it is no cant to say that character -remains everlastingly the backbone of human -progress." -</p> - -<p> -"Things!" she echoed, ignoring apparently -both the tribute and the consolation proffered. -"That is the word." She hugged her thought in -silence for a moment as though fascinated. -"When I was a girl there were no things to speak -of; now—" she paused and sighed; evidently the -vision which her spirit entertained disconcerted her -powers of speech. "It is not that I wish my -children to be rich—merely rich, Mr. Perry. You -know that. It is that I wish them to be able to -appreciate, to feel, to enjoy what is best in life. -You spoke of the power of character just now. -There is Mrs. Randolph Wilson. She has all the -virtues of plain character and so much more -besides. Compare her with a woman like me." -</p> - -<p> -"Mrs. Randolph Wilson!" His tone revealed -his surprise at the antithesis. "I see. I see," he -repeated, interested by the completeness of the -contrast. -</p> - -<p> -"I owe so much to her," Constance murmured. -"Before I knew her my outlook was so narrow -and colorless. She has taught me to enrich my -life, poor as it still is." -</p> - -<p> -"She is a fine woman. And yet, in my opinion, -you need not fear comparison with Mrs. Wilson." -</p> - -<p> -"Oh, Mr. Perry!" She stopped short for an -instant in recoil. The protesting astonishment of -her exclamation showed him not only that he had -violated a temple by his words, but that, as a -consequence, she believed him insincere, which in -her eyes would be a more grievous fault. -</p> - -<p> -"It is quite true," he said with decision. "You -are very different; but it is quite true. Your -outlook was narrow, perhaps, but it was clear and -straight." -</p> - -<p> -"Oh, no. You do not know her, then, nor me. -I tried to see clearly according to my lights, but -that is just it—my lights were defective, and I -saw only half the truth until she revealed it to -me." -</p> - -<p> -"Mrs. Wilson has had great opportunities." -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, indeed. And she has taken advantage of -them. Great opportunities!" she repeated with -an exultant sigh. "They are what I had in mind -a few minutes ago; not for myself, you know, but -for my children. I envy—yes, I envy opportunities -for them." Her voice had a quiver as though -she were daring a confession to the sphinx-like -stars. -</p> - -<p> -She had changed the emphasis of the dialogue, -but Gordon pursued his tenor. "Her daughter -has had every opportunity, yet her mother can -scarcely regard her with pride." -</p> - -<p> -"I barely know Mrs. Waldo. It was just before -her wedding that her mother was so kind to -to me. I saw her once or twice at the house, but -only for a moment." -</p> - -<p> -"At least she has made a mess of her marriage." -</p> - -<p> -Constance started. "It is true, then, what was -in the newspapers?" -</p> - -<p> -"It is true that she and her husband have -agreed to separate. It is an open secret that she -has gone to Sioux Falls in order to obtain a divorce -on a colorless ground in the shortest possible time. -They will both be free in less than a year." -</p> - -<p> -"How terrible! Loretta Davis read me a -paragraph last week to the effect that Mr. and -Mrs. Waldo were not happy. I set it down as baseless -gossip. It seemed to me impossible that -Mrs. Wilson's daughter—Ah, I am so sorry for -Mrs. Wilson." -</p> - -<p> -"She was in the office last week." -</p> - -<p> -"I remember." -</p> - -<p> -"She came to consult me; to see if anything -could be done. She has reasoned with her -daughter—used every argument in her arsenal—but -without avail. Mrs. Waldo's one idea is to be -free. And yet she has had every opportunity." -</p> - -<p> -"But that proves nothing, Mr. Perry, surely." They -had reached the threshold of Lincoln -Chambers. There was the courage of conviction in the -frank gaze she bent on him. -</p> - -<p> -"Only that the power to have everything may -numb the spirit and make individual self-will the -sole arbiter of conduct." -</p> - -<p> -"Agreed. But there can be no doubt that -civilization offers us more to-day than it ever did if -we can only be put within reach of it. The -thought sometimes haunts me that I may die and -Henrietta grow up to be like—like Loretta Davis; -never know what life may mean, because she has -not had the chance." -</p> - -<p> -He looked at her admiringly. "I am more -than half teasing you," he said. "While it is true -that the general standard of living is higher than -ever before, it remains true as ever that only the -attuned spirit can grasp and utilize the best. To -argue otherwise would be cant." -</p> - -<p> -"So it seems to me," she said, with her air of -direct simplicity. -</p> - -<p> -"As for this tragedy—for it is a tragedy almost -Sophoclean in its scope, as you will presently -learn, my lips are sealed for the moment beyond -what I have told you. But you are right in your -enthusiasm for Mrs. Wilson. She is in touch with -the temper of the world's progress—according to -her lights." -</p> - -<p> -She smiled faintly. "I still wish I were more -like her." -</p> - -<p> -Gordon seemed for a moment to be pondering -this assertion, then fixing her with his eyes, said: -"I believe you have never heard anything from -your husband since he deserted you?" -</p> - -<p> -"Nothing." -</p> - -<p> -"You do not know his whereabouts, nor whether -he is alive or dead?" -</p> - -<p> -She shook her head. -</p> - -<p> -"More than three years have elapsed. So you -are entitled to a divorce in this State, if you see fit -to claim it." -</p> - -<p> -Constance had listened in astonishment. His -tone was so respectful that she could not take -offence. He seemed to be merely informing her as -to her rights; and though the topic had never been -broached up to this time between them, was he not -her intimate friend? Nevertheless she felt agitated. -</p> - -<p> -"It has never occurred to me that a divorce -would be desirable," she answered with as much -formality as her dislike of artifice allowed her to -adopt. Then, yielding to curiosity or the inclination -to break another lance with him, she added: -"Of what benefit would it be to me to seek a -divorce?" -</p> - -<p> -"Merely that the bond is already broken; what -remains is a husk." -</p> - -<p> -"My husband may return." The response -struck her as futile; still it had risen to her lips -as a convenient possibility. -</p> - -<p> -"That is true. But if he did return after what -has happened, I should think—I have no right -to invade your privacy—" He stopped short, evidently -appalled by the sound of his own presumption. -</p> - -<p> -There was a brief silence. It would have been -easy for Constance to leave his inquiry where he -had left it, but her love for the truth caused her -first to face the issue thus presented, and having -solved it by one full glance, to bear testimony to -what was in her heart. Why she felt this frankness -necessary, she did not know, unless it were -that he was such a friend she did not wish him to -think he had offended. The interval was only -momentary, but she appeared to herself to have -been standing speechless in the presence of the -ashes of her past for an awkward period before -she said: -</p> - -<p> -"My husband said when he went away that we -could never be happy together. I do not wish him -to return." -</p> - -<p> -She realized she was telling him her love was -dead. It was the truth; why should he not know? -She heard him draw a deep breath. Suddenly -remembering the argument which had provoked his -question, her mind flew to it for refuge and -sheltered itself behind it as a bulwark. -</p> - -<p> -"But that is no reason why I should seek a -divorce. A divorce could not alter the situation." -</p> - -<p> -He hesitated a moment as though he were about -to continue the discussion, then evidently thought -better of it. "I simply wished you to know your -rights. Good-night." -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap17"></a></p> - -<h3> -XVII -</h3> - -<p> -As she reached the landing upon which her own -apartment opened, Constance noticed that -there was a light in Loretta Davis's room. -Loretta was now a full-fledged nurse. That is, she had -completed her course at the hospital, and was -taking cases of her own. She had already -obtained two or three through the patronage of -Mrs. Wilson, but she happened to be out of work at -the moment. It occurred to Constance that she -would impart her information to her neighbor. -Loretta was deeply interested in everything which -concerned their benefactress. Loretta had seen -what was in the newspapers, and, since it was true, -why should not she know? This was a plausible -excuse for gratifying that strong desire to share -her knowledge which assails every woman who has -something to tell. Had it been a real secret, -Constance would have been adamant. As it was, she -did not appreciate until too late that this was just -the sort of subject which she and Loretta could -not discuss sympathetically. She was sorry for -her; she did her best to befriend and encourage -her, and tried to like her; but though they got on -pleasantly, their point of view was apt to be -radically different. -</p> - -<p> -Loretta opened the door. "Oh, it's you, -Constance. I'd made up my mind that someone had -sent for me." -</p> - -<p> -"I'm sorry to disappoint you, Loretta. But I've -something to tell you—something you'll be -distressed to hear. What you read in the newspaper -about Mrs. Wilson's daughter—the Waldos—is -true." -</p> - -<p> -Then she repeated briefly what she knew, omitting -reference to Mrs. Wilson's visit to the office. -Loretta listened with parted lips and an expression -in her usually matter-of-fact face curiously -compounded of solicitude and knowingness, as though -commiseration and the glamor of the scandal were -contending forces. -</p> - -<p> -"I knew it was true; the newspapers wouldn't -have printed it unless there'd been something in it. -My! but she'll feel bad, won't she?" -</p> - -<p> -"It will wound her terribly." -</p> - -<p> -"How did your boss find out?" -</p> - -<p> -Constance winced. Somehow the epithet jarred -worse than usual, and she felt that she could not -stand it. The experiences of the evening were on -her nerves, though sympathy for Mrs. Wilson had -thrust her personal emotions to the back of her -mind for more leisurely inspection. -</p> - -<p> -"You mustn't call him that, Loretta. It doesn't -express him at all." -</p> - -<p> -Loretta looked surprised and laughed. -"What's the matter? He is your boss, isn't -he?" she asserted. "Oh, well—your employer, -Mr. Gordon Perry, Esq., counsellor-at-law, if -that'll suit you. My! but you're getting red." -</p> - -<p> -Constance was annoyed with herself for having -protested. Indeed, she was biting her tongue for -having brought on the interview. Now that she -had told the facts she shrank from further -discussion. Yet it was patent that Loretta had every -intention of discussing the episode with her. -</p> - -<p> -"There's no doubt about the truth of the matter, -unfortunately," she said, by way of answer -to the original question. -</p> - -<p> -Loretta's large eyes began to rove. Then they -suddenly fixed Constance with the gleam of a -transporting idea. -</p> - -<p> -"I'm going to see her, right off—to-morrow, I -mean," she added, noting the swift, barometric -sign of disapproval which her words evoked, -though it was no more than a contraction of the -eyelids. But, suspicious as she was, she assumed -that the only criticism had been that she was going -forthwith. -</p> - -<p> -From the moment Gordon Perry had spoken, -Constance had been yearning to hasten to -Mrs. Wilson's side and offer the sympathy which she -felt. This had been her first impulse too, but a -moment's reflection had proved to her that to do -so was out of the question; that it would be an -intrusion—a violation of that subtle code of nicety -which governed her benefactress's life. Mrs. Wilson -was the last woman to betray to the every-day -world that she was sorely wounded. Was not -endurance of suffering without plaint and with an -unruffled countenance one of the tenets of her -friend's ęsthetic creed? So what right had a -person like herself to invade her privacy? No, she -must remain dumb until Mrs. Wilson gave her the -opportunity to speak or publicity offered an excuse -for flowers or some token of affection. Thus she -had reasoned, and hence her involuntary challenge -to Loretta's confident announcement. -</p> - -<p> -"She'll expect me to be sorry for her, and I am," -pursued Loretta, complacent over her project. -"I'll ask her all about it. Won't it make a stir in -the newspapers! There'll be a new picture of her, -sure." Thus reminded, she opened a table drawer -and produced a large scrap-book, which she -exhibited to Constance with an air of satisfaction. -It was made up of newspaper illustrations and -clippings relative to the object of adoration—pictures -of Mrs. Wilson in a variety of poses, of her -house, of her equipages, and of everything which -the reportorial artist had been able to reproduce; -also scores of allusions to her in print culled from -the social columns. It was a current, but a -thorough collection, for Loretta had purchased back -issues in order to possess the newspaper features -of the wedding ceremonies. It was to these she -now turned, staying her hand at a page where the -bride and her mother looked forth, ranged side -by side in festal attire. Loretta surveyed them -contemplatively. "I never laid eyes on the -daughter. They're not much alike, are they? -Perhaps she'll be at home when I go. I'd give -anything to see her." -</p> - -<p> -The scrap-book was not new to Constance, but -it had been considerably amplified since she had -seen it last. She had never been able to -understand why Loretta had undertaken or prized it. -Nevertheless, it was a symptom of hero-worship -in line with collections of the photographs of -adored actors by matinee girls, and was not to be -despised too heartily if she wished to remain -sympathetic. But just now Constance's mind was -otherwise busy. She, too, adored Mrs. Wilson, -and she painfully depicted to herself the annoyance -which this visit with its threatened frankness -would cause her divinity. -</p> - -<p> -"Don't you think, Loretta, that it would be -better to wait a little before you call?" she said, -in gentle appeal. -</p> - -<p> -"Better? Why better?" -</p> - -<p> -"More appropriate. Mrs. Wilson will not feel -like discussing the matter just yet. If her daughter -is with her, so much the more reason. She must -be very unhappy, and, if either of us were to visit -her now to offer sympathy, I'm sure she would -regard it as an intrusion." -</p> - -<p> -Loretta bridled. "If I were unhappy, she'd -come to see me. If my baby were to die, wouldn't -she come gliding down here to make me feel -resigned? Two can play at that game. She's been -nice to me; why shouldn't I let her know that I'm -sorry for her? Besides," she added, with a shrug -of her shoulders and a bold look, "I'd like to see -how she'd behave—how she'd take it. I want to -see the house again, too." -</p> - -<p> -Appalled as Constance was, she said to herself -that she must not let the shock of this lack of taste -palsy her own effectiveness. To upbraid Loretta -would only confirm her in her intention. -</p> - -<p> -"Let us hope that there will be no publicity; that -the matter will be kept very quiet. If Mrs. Wilson -is desirous of concealing it, surely she would -not be pleased to know that we had heard of it. -I told you because I know how fond you are of -her, and that her secret would be safe in your -hands." -</p> - -<p> -"Publicity? Of course there'll be publicity." The -suggestion of concealment was obviously -distasteful to her. "Why, I read it to you in the -newspaper. The reporters are certain to get wind -of it in a few days, see if they don't. And when -they do, look out for head-lines and half-page -illustrations. The public have a right to know -what's going on, haven't they?" she asked in -the assertive tone of one vindicating a vested privilege. -</p> - -<p> -"Not things of this kind—private concerns, -surely." Constance sighed, realizing that it was -only too probable that the newspapers, alert as -bloodhounds for the trail of a new social scandal, -would come upon this shortly and blazon it to the -world. -</p> - -<p> -"Private concerns! Suppose a multi-millionaire's -daughter tires of her husband and runs away -to South Dakota to get a divorce as quick as the -law allows, do you call that a private concern? I -guess not, Constance. The public—meaning such -as you and me—naturally take an interest, and -object to its being hushed up. The multi-millionaires -have the money; we have the newspapers. -We don't get any too much that's interesting in -our lives." -</p> - -<p> -"We don't know any of the facts; we mustn't -prejudge Mrs. Waldo until we hear what they -are," said Constance, ignoring the philosophy of -this tirade in her dismay at the assumption. -</p> - -<p> -"That's why I'm going to see her. I want to -find out the facts," said Loretta, triumphantly. "I -was only supposing. Like as not her daughter -has been ill-treated, and is running away because -she has to. If so, there's not much to worry about. -She'll get her divorce, and be able to marry again -as soon as she has the chance." -</p> - -<p> -"But even so, Loretta, her mother must necessarily -regard it as a family misfortune, which she -would not like to talk about. As to marrying -again, that would only make the matter worse for -Mrs. Wilson." -</p> - -<p> -"Worse? Why worse?" -</p> - -<p> -"It would distress her, I'm certain. It would -be contrary to her ideas of the eternal fitness of -things." -</p> - -<p> -Constance recognized her own sententiousness, -which was due to the perception that she had -allowed herself to speak by the card without -sufficient authority. She had never discussed the -subject or anything analogous to it with Mrs. Wilson, -and to put arguments in her mouth would be surely -a liberty. Yet her heart told her that the -conclusion which she had uttered, both in its substance -and phraseology, stated correctly Mrs. Wilson's -position. What suddenly interested her was the -wonder whether it expressed her own convictions. -</p> - -<p> -Loretta lost no time in bringing this to an issue. -"Supposing Mrs. Waldo has been miserable and -without fault, do you mean to tell me she'd object -to her daughter marrying the right man if he came -along? Why, wouldn't you be glad, after all -you've been through, if the right person came -along—some decent man with a little money who -could look after your children?" -</p> - -<p> -"I?" To the ears of Constance the sound of -her own voice resembled a wail. Why should -Loretta be so unfeeling as to make her personal -experiences the test of such a text? -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, you." -</p> - -<p> -Constance gathered her forces for a display of -proper dignity. She wished to be kind still, but -conclusive. -</p> - -<p> -"Mine is not a case at all in point. I am not -divorced from my husband." -</p> - -<p> -Loretta plainly regarded this argument as -flimsy, for she snapped her fingers. "Pooh!" she -said. "You could get a divorce any day you like." She -stared at Constance a moment, then rose from -her chair, planted her palms on the table and bent -forward by way of emphasis with an air both -determined and a little diabolical. -</p> - -<p> -"Supposing your—your employer, Gordon -Perry, Esq., counsellor-at-law, was to make you an -offer of his hand and heart to-morrow, do you -mean to tell me, Constance Stuart, that you -wouldn't snap him up in a jiffy?" -</p> - -<p> -"It isn't a supposable case," replied poor Constance. -One can slam a door in an intruder's face; -there is no such buffer for impertinent speeches. -</p> - -<p> -"But supposing costs nothing. Of course it's -supposable, why not? You're the sort of woman -who's twice as good looking now that you've filled -out as you were at nineteen. You know well -enough you're growing handsomer and more fetching -every day. Only a blind man couldn't see that." -</p> - -<p> -"That would have nothing to do with it even -if it were true." -</p> - -<p> -"You may bet a man like that wouldn't marry -you if you were plain. But just supposing? I do -believe you're getting red again." -</p> - -<p> -The victim, conscious of the fact, sought relief -in merriment. She jumped at the impulse to treat -this indelicate effrontery jocosely as the only -possible attitude. "It's because you're so absurd, -Loretta. But since you seem to wish an answer -to your ridiculous question——" -</p> - -<p> -The sharp note of the electric bell broke in upon -the slight pause which she made to weigh her -words. -</p> - -<p> -"Someone for me!" cried Loretta, and she ran -to the tube. But she looked over her shoulder to -say "Continued in our next! The offer is good -for a week." -</p> - -<p> -Constance felt the inclination to throw the -scrapbook at her head. The next moment she was -vexed with herself for allowing her equanimity -to be disturbed, and began to rehabilitate the -interrupted sentence. What had she been going to -say? It dawned upon her that, curiously enough, -she had not formulated the conclusion. Meantime -Loretta was going through the functions of -whistling down the tube and receiving the message. -The surprising import of her next words roused -Constance from a brown study. -</p> - -<p> -"Talk of the devil! It's a messenger from -Mr. Perry's. Somebody's ill and I'm wanted. The -boy's coming up." -</p> - -<p> -Somebody ill! It must be Mrs. Perry. The -few moments of suspense which elapsed before the -district messenger-boy arrived seemed interminable -to Constance. Loretta had opened the door and -the tramp of his ascent sounded leisurely. When -he appeared he thrust his hand into his breast-pocket -and produced a letter. -</p> - -<p> -"It's for Mrs. Stuart," he said, guardedly. -</p> - -<p> -"I'm Mrs. Stuart," said Constance. -</p> - -<p> -"I was told to ring at your bell first, and if you -was asleep or didn't answer the tube to try the -other lady." -</p> - -<p> -Constance read the brief contents of the note -with perturbation. It was from Mr. Perry, -informing her that on his return home he had found -his mother stricken with paralysis, that the doctor -was in attendance, and that a trained nurse was -necessary. He had thought of Loretta; would -Constance send her if disengaged? -</p> - -<p> -"Oh, Loretta, dear Mrs. Perry is seriously ill—a -stroke of paralysis. Mr. Perry asks you to come -to her at once." -</p> - -<p> -"I'll be ready to start in a few minutes," answered -Loretta, briskly. -</p> - -<p> -"We will both go," added Constance, as though -to herself. "There may be something I can do." She -turned to the messenger: "Return as quickly -as you can, and tell the gentleman that we—wait -a moment." She tore the sheet of note-paper apart -and seating herself at the table wrote hastily on -the blank half in pencil: "Loretta will come at -once, and I shall accompany her. My heart -grieves for you, my dear friend." She folded it -and bent down one corner. "Give him this," she -said, "and please make haste." -</p> - -<p> -At this time in Benham the doctrine that sewage -must be diverted from the sources of water supply -used for drinking purposes was firmly established, -and the doctrine that not every woman able to read -and write is qualified to teach school was being -gradually, if grudgingly, admitted to be not -altogether un-American. So swift had been the change -of attitude toward special knowledge that there -had even been a revolution in regard to the theory -advocated by the original board of trustees of the -Silas S. Parsons Free Hospital that every woman -is a born nurse, and is competent, after a -fortnight's training at the utmost, to take charge of -the sickest patients. Those familiar with affairs -in Benham will recall that the original ruling spirit -of that institution was Mrs. Selma Lyons, wife -of United States Senator Lyons. She disapproved -of special training and was a strong champion of -the principle that an American woman with -aspirations is more likely to be fettered than helped -by conventional standards, and that individuality -should be given free play in order to attain brilliant -results. Yet though this principle was reverenced -at first in the employment of nurses for the -hospital, progress, that stern derider even of the -American woman, gradually set it at naught -during the period when Mrs. Lyons was resident in -Washington and unable to give that close personal -attention to the affairs of the institution which she -desired. It so happened that after her husband's -defeat at the end of his first term through the -hostility of Horace Elton, one of the financial -magnates of that section of the country, who harbored -a grudge against him for alleged duplicity when -Governor, the President of the United States -threw a sop to the defeated candidate in the form -of the Spanish mission. Selma, who was still -engaged in the effort to chastise her enemies and to -reėstablish what she regarded as true American -social principles, was sorry to leave Washington, -but she found some consolation in the thought of -introducing American ethical standards at a -foreign court, especially of dealing a death-blow to -bull-fights by her personal influence. She was -obliged, however, to relax considerably her vigilance -in regard to the hospital; even, to consent to -an enlargement of the board of trustees. This -in its new form presently adopted what the -members regarded as modern methods. Mrs. Wilson -had been one of the recent additions to the body. -Yet, under her regimen, though every applicant -for a nurse's diploma was obliged to serve a rigorous -apprenticeship of two years at the hospital, the -idea of scrutinizing the antecedents and previous -education of the young women offering themselves -was still novel. Selma would have regarded an -inquiry of this kind as aristocratic and hostile to -the free development of the individual. Now—but -a few years later—such a system of scrutiny -is in vogue in Benham; but at the date of Loretta -Davis's admittance to the Silas S. Parsons Free -Hospital, though it doubtless occurred to -Mrs. Wilson that her candidate was not ideal, she had -not demurred. On the contrary, she had welcomed -the opportunity of giving the girl a chance -to redeem herself in this field of usefulness. -</p> - -<p> -Similarly, though Constance might not have -picked out her neighbor for this particular service, -she felt only thankfulness that Loretta was -disengaged, and that they were able to betake -themselves at once to Mrs. Perry's bedside. The old -dame employed to look after the baby in Loretta's -absence was still available. Constance waked her, -and requested her to keep an eye on her own -children in case she were away all night. After their -arrival at their destination, however, it was soon -clear to Constance that there was nothing she could -do. Mrs. Perry had not regained consciousness, -and the physician in attendance was non-committal -as to the outcome. So Gordon informed them; -briefly, and Constance was left in the library to -her own reflections while he showed Loretta to -her post. She was not sorry that she had come; -but much as she wished to remain, plainly she -would be in the way. Loretta was trained, and -was the proper person to be in the sick-room. Yet -she would not go until Mr. Perry returned. He -might have instructions for the morrow concerning -the changes in his plans consequent upon his -mother's illness. Besides, she wished to express -more specifically her desire to be of any possible -service. -</p> - -<p> -Gordon returned before long. He put out his -hand as though they had not met already. "I -thank you heartily for your message of sympathy," -he said. -</p> - -<p> -"There is no change?" -</p> - -<p> -"None. It is the beginning of the end." -</p> - -<p> -"Yet——" -</p> - -<p> -"Oh, yes, she may recover, thanks to the -tireless methods of modern science; but what would -the only possible recovery mean to a woman like -her? Merely durance vile. No—one's natural -impulse, of course, is to hold on to one we -love—to delay the parting at any price. The doctors -must have their way. But when I allow myself -to think, I know it would be best for her not to -wake again. She would prefer it. You know that." -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, she would prefer it," Constance murmured. -"I must not keep you from her," she -added. -</p> - -<p> -"Please stay a little. I can do nothing. It hurts -me to see her so unlike herself, though the doctor -says she is not suffering." He glanced at the clock -apprehensively. "It is getting late, I know; but -you must not go quite yet. I will telephone for a -carriage presently. I must give you directions as -to what to do at the office to-morrow in case I -should not be there." Then, as though he divined -what was in her thoughts, he said, "I was glad -when I knew you were coming. I said to myself, -'if my mother should recover consciousness, the -sight of Constance at her bedside would do her -more good than any medicine.'" -</p> - -<p> -He had never before employed her Christian -name in her presence. The use of it now seemed -to her to put a seal upon the bond of their friendship. -He was become, indeed, a wise older brother -whom it delighted her to serve. -</p> - -<p> -"But you will come to-morrow?" he said. -</p> - -<p> -"If I may. I should like to be near her. I -hate to feel helpless where she is concerned." -</p> - -<p> -"We are both helpless. What a mother she has -been to me! I owe everything to her. Truth has -been her divinity, truth—truth—and she has had -the courage to live up to what she believed." He -paused. Evidently his spirit quailed before the -impending future. "And now she is slipping away -from me. The common destiny. But she is my -mother. I wonder where she is going—what is to -become of all that energy and clear-headedness. -Modern science tells us that force never perishes. -It is as difficult to imagine my mother's individuality -at an end as it is to convince one's self in the -presence of death that the grave is not master." He -sighed and turned to hide a tear. -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - "I know not where His islands lift<br /> - Their fronded palms in air,<br /> - I only know I cannot drift<br /> - Beyond His love and care."<br /> -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -The lines rose to Constance's lips and she -repeated them. They were not symbolic of her -church; rather they were a text from the universal -hope of mankind. She felt instinctively that any -more orthodox definition would have jarred upon -him. -</p> - -<p> -"Thank you," he said, softly. "It is so easy -in this age of conscientious investigation to reject -everything which will not bear the test of human -reason. Death is no greater a mystery than birth. -We know not whence we came, nor whither we go. -But when the world ceases to believe that there is -some answer to it all worthy of our aspirations, it -will be time for this planet to become a frozen -pole again. You women are apt to bear that in -mind more faithfully than we," he added, lifting -his eyes to hers. "Come," he said, "we must not -forget to-morrow; you have work to do. I must -not be selfish." -</p> - -<p> -A few minutes later he put her in a carriage. -In the morning Constance, imbued with his speech, -half hoped that she might hear that Mrs. Perry -was dead. But Gordon appeared at the office -about ten o'clock, announcing that the night had -brought a change for the better. His mother had -smiled at him recognizingly, and faintly pressed -his hand. Though she was unable to speak, the -doctor had encouraged him to believe that she -would do so. Constance perceived that he was in -better spirits, showing that, despite his words, he -was rejoicing that the parting had been delayed. -</p> - -<p> -The improvement in Mrs. Perry's condition -continued for nearly three weeks. One side of her -body was completely paralyzed, but she regained -presently the power to utter a few occasional -words, though her enunciation was difficult to -understand. At the end of the fourth day from her -seizure she was permitted to see Constance for a -few minutes. Soon after daily visits increasing -gradually in length were sanctioned, and Constance, -after her duties at the office were over, -was enabled to spend an hour or more at the -bedside of her friend before returning to her own -home. This was an agreeable arrangement to -Loretta, for it gave that young woman a breathing -spell—the opportunity to take the fresh air -or to do whatever she pleased. Mrs. Perry -evidently delighted in Constance's attendance. She -listened to reading with satisfaction for a time, -but later it seemed to suit her better to lie quietly, -her unmaimed hand resting in or near one of -Constance's, while the latter now and then broke the -twilight silence by recounting the news of the day. -"I like the sound of your voice, my dear," she said -to Constance. "It is refreshing and musical as a -brook." Occasionally Gordon joined them, but -he would never permit Constance to relinquish her -seat beside the bed in his favor. -</p> - -<p> -"My turn comes later," he said. "I tuck my -mother up for the night." -</p> - -<p> -Mrs. Perry seemed to enjoy especially the days -when they were there together. She would turn -her eyes from one to the other as though she -delighted in them equally. But only once did she -make any reference to what may have been in her -thoughts concerning their joint presence. It was -in the third week of her illness, and what she said -was spoken low to Constance, though evidently -intended to be audible to them both. -</p> - -<p> -"You must take good care of him, dear, when -I am gone." -</p> - -<p> -It was one of her best days as regards articulation, -so there was no room for misunderstanding. -The words were harmless enough and Constance -took them in the only sense in which they were -applicable. -</p> - -<p> -"I shall stay with him as long as he will keep -me, you may rely on that, Mrs. Perry," she -responded, brightly. -</p> - -<p> -A pleasant smile came over the old lady's face -and she looked in the direction of her son. Her -mouth twitched. "Do you hear what she says, -Gordon?" There was a humorous twinkle in her -voice, which doubtless was not lost on him. His -back was to the light, so that he had the advantage -of shadow to cover his mental processes. -</p> - -<p> -"I regard it as impossible that Constance and -I should ever drift apart," he said. -</p> - -<p> -His sphinx-like reply seemed to be reassuring -to the invalid. She lay like one serenely satisfied, -and did not pursue the subject further. As for -Constance, she noticed the use by Mr. Perry of -her Christian name again, but it seemed to her only -fitting and friendly. She did not need his assurance -to feel that they were not likely to drift apart, but -it was delightful to hear it from his lips. -</p> - -<p> -When Mrs. Perry's seeming convalescence had -reached a stage at which the doctor was on the -point of sending her out to drive, a second attack -of her malady occurred and brought the end. She -became unconscious at once, and passed away -within a few hours. On the afternoon after the -funeral Constance returned to the house with -Loretta in order that the latter might collect and -bring away her belongings. Gordon was closeted -in his library alone with his sorrow, and the two -women moving noiselessly through the silent house -made but a brief stay. While they were on their -way to Lincoln Chambers a newsboy entered the -street-car crying the evening papers. Loretta -having bought one made an ejaculation. Absorbed in -what she had discovered, she paid no heed at first -to Constance's glance of interrogation, but read -with an avidity which seemed breathless. Then -she thrust the sheet under her companion's eyes, -and pointing to a column bristling with large -headlines, exclaimed: -</p> - -<p> -"Here it is at last; a full account of the divorce -proceedings with their pictures, and a picture of -her. It's a worse affair than anyone imagined. -It says Paul Howard and his wife are mixed up -in it, and there's something about a pistol going -off at Newport. I haven't read it all yet. But -look—look!" -</p> - -<p> -Loretta's demeanor suggested not merely -excitement, but a sort of saturnine glee, so that -Constance turned from the printed page toward her as -though seeking to fathom its cause, then back to -the newspaper, the capitals of which told their -sensational story with flaring offensiveness. -</p> - -<p> -"I won't read it now, Loretta. I'll wait until -we get home. What a cruel shame it is that the -press has got hold of it." -</p> - -<p> -Loretta gave a questioning jerk to her shoulders. -"I don't know about that. I knew she -wouldn't be able to hush it up. How could she -expect to? Besides—" She did not finish her -sentence. Instead, she wagged her head, as one -in possession of a secret and grinned knowingly. -"I'll tell you something, some day. But not -now—not now." Then she reassumed control of the -newspaper, saying, "Well, if you don't care to -read it, I do. There are three columns." She -uttered the last words as though she were -announcing treasure-trove. -</p> - -<p> -But the ellipsis had left no doubt as to her -attitude, which led Constance to remark on the spur -of the moment, "Neither of us would like to have -our misfortunes paraded before the world. I -know what it means; how it cuts and stings." -</p> - -<p> -Loretta looked up admiringly. "When your -husband ran away?" -</p> - -<p> -"Yes." -</p> - -<p> -"And your picture appeared?" -</p> - -<p> -"No, not that, thank heavens!" -</p> - -<p> -Loretta laughed indulgently. "You're queer, -Constance. You're so scared of publicity. I -shouldn't mind a bit having my picture in the papers. -What's more, I don't believe she does. This -divorce had to come out, sooner or later. I -shouldn't wonder in the least," she added, boldly, -"if she lets the reporters know when she has a new -photograph taken. By the way, I went to see her." -</p> - -<p> -Constance knew at once what she meant, and -the dismay and curiosity inspired by the announcement -rose paramount to her other feelings of protest. -</p> - -<p> -"When?" -</p> - -<p> -"It surprises you, doesn't it? I went on two -of those afternoons when you sat with Mrs. Perry. -And I saw her, too. The first time the butler said -she was engaged. He tried to shunt me off the -same way again, but I was too smart for him. -'Tell her Loretta Davis is very anxious to talk -with her on business,' I said, and the message -came back that she'd be down presently. Between -my baby and my nurse's work it wasn't hard to -find the business, and then I told her plump I was -sorry to hear about her daughter. At that she -colored up—you ought to have seen her, and looked -as though she had swallowed a steel rod. Said -she, 'I appreciate your desire to be sympathetic, -Loretta, but that is a subject I cannot discuss with -anyone, please.'" Loretta spoke mincingly, -evidently aiming to reproduce Mrs. Wilson's -exquisiteness of manner and speech. "Said I 'I -thought it might make you feel better to talk it -over with someone. It would me, I know.' But -it wasn't any use. She wouldn't, and she sort of -froze me; and pretty soon we both got up, I to go, -and she to have me go. However, now it's all out, -and everyone will be talking about it." -</p> - -<p> -"But not with her. I warned you that she -wouldn't like it." -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, you warned me. And I don't mind saying -I think she needn't have been so stiff, seeing I -told her everything when I was in trouble. -Anyhow, I saw the house again and her, and now -there's a new picture of her in the paper, and the -thing is going to make a big sensation, if what's -printed here is true, and I guess it is." She -nodded her head with a repetition of her air of -mystery. "There are the facts you said we ought to -wait for." -</p> - -<p> -"But you seem almost glad," Constance could -not refrain from remarking. "You stated you -went to see Mrs. Wilson because you were sorry -for her." -</p> - -<p> -"So I did; so I am. I'm dreadfully sorry for -her. I'd do anything to help her, but I can't; and -she won't let me show my sympathy. But since -the thing has happened, I'm glad it's exciting." -</p> - -<p> -Constance looked puzzled. "I don't think I -understand." -</p> - -<p> -"I enjoy sensations, and big head-lines. They -tone me up. You're different, I guess." A -sudden thought seemed to occur to her, for she -regarded Constance for a moment as a doctor might -look at a patient, then she thrust her hand into -the pocket of her jacket and produced a small -bottle which contained white tablets. "When -I feel low in my mind—done up—I take one -of these." -</p> - -<p> -"What are they?" -</p> - -<p> -"Something a friend of mine at the hospital -recommended. They do the work." While -delivering this not altogether candid response, -Loretta unscrewed the stopper and emptying a tablet -on to her palm swallowed it, then offered the -bottle to her companion. "Have one?" -</p> - -<p> -Constance shook her head. -</p> - -<p> -"Well, the next time you feel fagged, ask me -for one." An instant later she sprang to her feet, -exclaiming, "Why, here we are! We ought to -get out." -</p> - -<p> -It was even so. The interest of their conversation -had been such that they had neglected to notice -the flight of time or to observe where they -were. As the car was virtually at the point where -they wished it to stop, Loretta hurried toward the -door, signalling to the conductor as she did so; -but she failed to catch his eye, for he happened to -be absorbed by an organ-grinder on the other side -of the car from that on which they were to get -off. The car was moving slowly, and, though she -had her hand-bag, it was a simple matter to spring -to the ground without further ado. She did so -successfully, landing a few feet beyond the -crossing. Constance, who was following close behind, -heard the voice of the conductor, "Wait, lady, -until the car stops," and the jingle of the bell, but -she disdained to heed it. She jumped lightly, but -somehow the heel of her boot caught on the edge -of the platform or she slipped. At all events her -impetus was thwarted, and instead of landing on -her feet, she pitched forward, striking her -forehead on the pavement. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap18"></a></p> - -<h3> -XVIII -</h3> - -<p> -When Constance came to herself she was in -her own bed. It appeared that she had -been carried insensible into a drug store, and -thence to Lincoln Chambers, which were close at -hand. A doctor presently restored her to -consciousness, but he gave imperative instructions that -she was to be kept absolutely quiet or he would -not answer for the consequences of the nervous -shock. It was the second day before her countenance -expressed recognition of Mrs. Harrity, the -pensioner who looked after the children, and who -sat sewing at her bedside. Even then her senses -shrank from every effort, and having learned by -a question or two that she had fallen, and that the -children were well, she lapsed into a comatose -state. When she emerged from this she was very -weak, but her mind was clear. She could not bear -the light, however. Her eyes burned with a -stinging pain whenever they encountered it, and she -was forced to submit to the physician's orders that -she remain in a dark room for a week. -</p> - -<p> -Her first inquiry after her mind was able to -focus itself was whether word had been sent to the -office. She was told that Loretta had done this -by telephone; that Mr. Perry had called promptly, -and that the roses on the table were from him. -Mrs. Harrity seemed proud of the visit and the -gift. -</p> - -<p> -"He told me to say you weren't to worry, and -to take all the time you need to get well. He's -a pleasant-spoken gentleman, Mrs. Stuart, and -wanted to know everything the doctor had said." -</p> - -<p> -Mrs. Harrity was proud also of the fact that -Loretta had been summoned to attend a new patient. -She was proudest of all of a piece of intelligence, -or rather prophecy, which Loretta had let -fall the day after the accident, which she hastened -to impart to Constance the first moment the latter -appeared able to take it in. -</p> - -<p> -"She says as how you ought to get big damages -from the railroad." -</p> - -<p> -"But I'm not much hurt, am I?" asked Constance. -</p> - -<p> -The dame perceived that she had not lived up -to the doctor's orders. Yet now she could -conscientiously relieve her patient's natural solicitude. -</p> - -<p> -"Mercy, no. You've broken nothing. You're -only shook up. And it hasn't hurt your good looks -a mite. But," she added, still conscientious, "the -doctor says it's your nerves, and nerves are most -as good as bones before a jury, especially if one -has a smart lawyer handy as you have." -</p> - -<p> -Constance sat up in bed. Instead of being a -comfort, as was intended, the broad hint distressed -her. -</p> - -<p> -"I don't wish any damages. It was my own -fault. I jumped before the car stopped. It was -very silly. I only want to get well." -</p> - -<p> -The dread of a tedious convalescence was -already haunting her reviving faculties. Her -absence from the office would be very inconvenient -to Mr. Perry, and confinement at home for more -than a few days would prove a disastrous inroad -on her resources. She must hasten to recover. -</p> - -<p> -Meantime Mrs. Harrity was looking blank at -the reception accorded to what she had supposed -would be a nerve tonic to the sufferer. She replied -stanchly: -</p> - -<p> -"She says different. She's ready to go on the -stand and swear against the company. You're all -right, darling. Smell them flowers, and lie down -like a good girl. The doctor says you must keep -still and not talk." So saying, she pushed a little -nearer the vase of roses, one of which Constance -had reached with her outstretched hand in the -dark. Constance's impulse had been to detach it -from its fellows so as to enjoy its fragrance at -close range. But the larger opportunity afforded -her, or else the jogging of her purpose, changed -her mind. She bent forward and burying her face -in the cool rose leaves inhaled their rich perfume. -</p> - -<p> -"It was very kind of him to send them," she -murmured, as though in monologue. Then -appreciating for the first time her weakness she sank -back upon her pillow. She said to herself that he -was such a friend that he would make the best of -her absence for a week and by the end of that time -she would be herself again. But what a fool she -had been to jump; to take such a risk, she a grown -woman with children! She ought to have known -better; she was getting middle-aged, and she must -be more staid. Still it was some consolation to -know she had not broken her nose. -</p> - -<p> -A note received from Mr. Perry twenty-four -hours later and read to her by her little daughter -reassured her as to his indulgence in respect to -her absence. All her interest now became centred -on a rapid recovery, and she made sundry attempts -to bring the doctor to book as to the date when -she would be able to resume work again, which he -smilingly evaded. She was conscious, however, of -increasing bodily vigor, which was comforting. -The inability of her eyes to endure the light was -her chief discomfort, a condition which her -physician appeared to her to ignore, until he arrived -one morning with a brother practitioner, who -proved to be an oculist, and who had brought with -him some of the apparatus of his specialty for the -purpose of a diagnosis. Constance could not bear -the sphinx-like urbanities which followed the -examination. She felt possessed by a desire to have -the exact condition of affairs revealed to her. She -lifted her head, and addressing her own doctor, -said: -</p> - -<p> -"I should like to know the truth, please. Do -not conceal anything. It will be much worse for -me to find out later that something has been kept -back." -</p> - -<p> -The family physician looked at the specialist as -much as to say that he proposed to throw the -burden on him, but he answered, "So far as your -general physical condition is concerned, you are -practically well, Mrs. Stuart. All the brain symptoms -have disappeared, and there are no lesions of any -kind. It is now simply a question of nerves—and -your eyes. Dr. Dale can speak more authoritatively -about the latter." -</p> - -<p> -Dr. Dale, the oculist, a man in the prime of -life, with precise methods and a closely cut Van -Dyke beard, hesitated briefly, as though he were -analyzing his patient, then said with courteous -incisiveness—"It is a question of nerves, as -Dr. Baldwin has explained. The nerves affected in -your case are those of the eyes. Since you have -expressed a wish to know the exact state of affairs, -I take you at your word, Mrs. Stuart. I agree -with you that it is more satisfactory to know the -truth, and I am glad to be able to assure you that -by the end of six months, if you give your eyes -entire rest, their weakness will be cured, and you -will be able to use them as freely as before." -</p> - -<p> -He had rather the air of conferring a benefit -than of pronouncing a sentence, and Constance -received his statement in that spirit. -</p> - -<p> -"Thank you," she said. "I will be as careful -as I can." -</p> - -<p> -"The condition of your cure," the specialist -continued with polite relentlessness, "is that you -abstain from using them altogether." -</p> - -<p> -Constance experienced a thrill of concern. -"Which means?" -</p> - -<p> -"It means, Mrs. Stuart, that you must not sew, -read, write, or undertake any form of application -where the eyes are a factor." -</p> - -<p> -She could not believe her ears. "I am a clerk -in a law-office. My employment is stenography -and type-writing," she said, tentatively. -</p> - -<p> -He nodded. Evidently he had been informed. -"It will be impossible for you to continue it." -</p> - -<p> -"But I must. I must do my work. My children -are dependent on it." Her tone suggested -that there could be no answer to such a plea. -</p> - -<p> -"You cannot. If you do, you will become blind. -I am very sorry for you." -</p> - -<p> -The truth was out. She lay dumfounded. -"Blind? Blind?" she echoed. -</p> - -<p> -"But there is not the least danger of your -becoming blind if you obey my instructions. You -will be entirely cured, as I have said." -</p> - -<p> -There was a painful silence. Her sentence was -too appalling to grasp. There must be some -escape from it. "Six months? Half a year?" -</p> - -<p> -"Knowing your necessities, I have given you -the shortest period that I dared consistent with -perfect recovery. You will have to wear colored -glasses at first," he continued, seeking a business-like -basis, "and accustom yourself to do without -them by degrees. I will bring them to-morrow." -</p> - -<p> -She leaned back on her pillow bewildered. The -trickling of a tear into her mouth reminded her -that she could not afford to cry, though but for -the presence of the doctors she knew that she -would have burst into sobs. Her plight demanded -thought, not sorrow. But what could she do? -What, indeed? Yet, even as she asked herself the -dreadful question, she began to nerve herself not -only against breaking down at the moment, but -against the threat of the future. She would keep -a stiff upper lip in the teeth of all the odds, and -be able to manage somehow. As thus she reasoned, -swallowing the salt of her single moment -of weakness, she heard Dr. Baldwin saying: -</p> - -<p> -"You have had a very fortunate escape, all -things considered. It might have been much -worse. You might have disfigured yourself -permanently, which for you," he added with a -gallant bow, "would have been a serious matter, -indeed. As it is, you will be able to do everything -as formerly in another week, except use your eyes. -Your friends will look after you, Mrs. Stuart, and -six months will pass much more quickly than you -expect." -</p> - -<p> -"I don't suppose they'll let me starve," she -found herself saying, though the notion of a -return to alms almost strangled her effort at -buoyancy, so that the sprightliness of her tone -competed with the water in her eyes, as the sun -struggles with the rain-pour just before it clears -up. But she remembered that the room was dark, -and that they could not see her tears. "Wasn't I -a fool to jump off that car?" -</p> - -<p> -"You were unlucky, that's all. You mustn't be -too hard on yourself. It is the privilege of the -young to jump, and you will jump again." It was -Dr. Dale who spoke. His enunciation imparted a -cleansing value to his note of sympathy, just as it -had ruthlessly epitomized her tragedy a few -minutes before. -</p> - -<p> -"But I am not young; that is the folly of it," -she protested. -</p> - -<p> -The oculist smiled. "Excuse me if I differ with -you," said he. "You have the best years of your -life before you." -</p> - -<p> -They left her under the spell of this assertion, -which lingered in her mind on account of its -absurdity, until in sheer self-defence she said to -herself under her breath that she was only thirty-one. -The best years of her life! And yet he knew that -she was to be deprived during half of one of them -of the joy of seeing and the source of her -livelihood. What could he mean? -</p> - -<p> -In taking his departure, Dr. Baldwin, by way -of showing his friendliness, had volunteered to -write to her employer. "I know Mr. Perry," he -said, "and I will explain to him the situation. -Perhaps he will be able to keep your place for you." -</p> - -<p> -Constance had interposed no objection. It -would obviate the necessity of an elaborate -explanation on her part, and would, moreover, be a -guaranty of her later usefulness. The future -would take care of itself; it was the present which -stared her in the face and demanded an immediate -answer. -</p> - -<p> -One solution of her quandary was offered to her -a few days later. Dr. Baldwin had given her -permission to get up and resume her ordinary -household duties as soon as her glasses arrived, which -proved to be the next morning, as the oculist had -promised. Consequently, she dressed herself and -sat with her children in the parlor that afternoon, -and on the following day rose, bent on facing the -new problem of existence with a clear brain and -resigned spirit. If Mr. Perry would save her place -for her, so much the better. But obviously there -was nothing for her to do in the office until she -was cured. She must, either through her own -energies or the advice of others, discover some -employment compatible with her infirmity. She -might have to accept help at first, for the money -she had on hand would be needed to pay the bills -of the two physicians, which would necessarily be -considerable; but with the aid of her friends she -would surely be able to find some handiwork which -would yield her enough to keep her treasures well -fed and decently clothed. Humiliating as it -would be to have recourse to others, it was clearly -her duty to inform her friends of her predicament, -and invite their counsel. They would only thank -her, she knew, and she certainly was fortunate in -having three persons, to whom she felt at liberty -to apply, so pleasantly interested in her welfare -as her employer, Mrs. Wilson, and the Reverend -George Prentiss. Mr. Perry was to be made -aware of what had befallen her, without further -action on her part; but she would write to the two -others, and soon, for the thought was harassing -her that her employer, in a spirit of benevolence, -might try to invent duties for her at the office, and -give her some sinecure in order that she might -retain her salary. This would be galling to her -self-respect, and was not to be entertained for a -moment. As the possibility of it grew upon her she -became quite agitated; so much so that in the hope -of heading off any such attempt by him, she -dictated to her daughter, that afternoon, letters to -Mrs. Wilson and the clergyman, informing them -briefly what had occurred. -</p> - -<p> -Just after the little girl had returned from -putting these in the letter-box, and Constance was -musing over a cup of tea, a messenger with a note -arrived. It was from Gordon Perry, and read by -Henrietta it ran as follows: Might he not call that -evening? He had the doctor's permission to do -so; and she was to send a simple "Yes" or "No" -by the bearer. Now for it, she thought; he was -coming to overwhelm her with his cunning schemes -for continuing her salary. Her first impulse was -to protect herself by delay; to ask him to wait a -day or two until she felt stronger. But this would -be a subterfuge, and, excepting that she dreaded -his philanthropy, she yearned to see him. He -would put her in touch with the world again, -from which she had been shut off too long. "No" -trembled on her lips, but the fear of hurting his -feelings occurred to her in the nick of time as a -counterbalance to her dread of being pauperized by -him, and her natural inclinations found utterance. -"Tell Mr. Perry, yes," she answered, and her -spirits rose from that moment, though she resolved -to be as firm as a rock on the threatened issue. She -ascribed his coming in the evening rather than the -afternoon to his being busy at the office, and as she -put the children to bed she reflected that it would -be pleasant to have an uninterrupted visit. She -made her toilette as best she could with Mrs. Harrity's -aid, and she inwardly rejoiced again that she -had not broken her nose. -</p> - -<p> -Gordon arrived about half-past eight. The -cheer which his manner expressed did not detract -from its sympathy. It seemed to say that he -recognized and deplored her misfortune, but took for -granted her preference to face it smilingly, and -not to waste time in superfluous lamentation. At -the same time, she could not but notice his eager -solicitude and the ardor of his bearing, which was -slightly disconcerting. Yet he made her tell him -the details of the accident, listening with the ear -of a lawyer. At the close his brow clouded slightly -as though her story failed to coincide with his -prepossessions. -</p> - -<p> -"You see I haven't any case, have I?" she said, -divining what was passing in his mind. She -cherished a half hope that his cleverness might still -extract a just cause of action from her delinquency. -</p> - -<p> -"Not on your evidence." -</p> - -<p> -"So I supposed. Those are the real facts. I -jumped before the car stopped, though the -conductor warned me, and I heard the bell." -</p> - -<p> -"That settles it; contributory negligence. But -the trained nurse who was with you tells a different -story." -</p> - -<p> -"Loretta has been to see you?" -</p> - -<p> -"Yes. She came ostensibly for her pay night -before last. But she seemed very anxious to testify -in court in your favor. She says the conductor -wasn't looking at first, and that he pushed you off -the car just as you were jumping." -</p> - -<p> -Constance shook her head. "She is entirely -mistaken as to the last part." -</p> - -<p> -"There is nothing to be said. It struck me that -Miss Davis, unlike most women, enjoyed the prospect -of being a witness. It was a great event to -her, and she would be able to do you a good -turn." He sat for a moment pondering this diagnosis, -then with a start, as though he had been surprised -in a trivial occupation, exclaimed: -</p> - -<p> -"But what does it matter whether you can get -paltry damages or not? I did not come here to -consider that. I came to talk with you about your -future." -</p> - -<p> -He spoke the last words with a tender cadence -which was partly lost on Constance, for she sprang -to the conclusion that the moment for her to -display firmness had arrived, and that he was about -to broach a scheme for retaining her in his -employment. -</p> - -<p> -"I must find some other occupation for the next -six months, of course. I am forbidden to use my -eyes for any purpose. I have written to Mrs. Wilson -and my rector, thinking they may know of -some opening or vacancy where I could work with -my hands or do errands until my eyes are well." Then -noticing the curious smile with which he received -this rather impetuous announcement, and -apprehensive lest he might be hurt by her avowed -reliance on others, she added: "And you, too, must -be on the lookout for me. You may hear of -something which would suit me." -</p> - -<p> -"As for that, do you suppose that because your -service to me is interrupted I would not stand in -the breach? That I would not insist on continuing -your salary until you were able to return to your -post?" -</p> - -<p> -"I knew it would be just like you to wish to," -she said, quickly, "but I could not possibly allow -it. That's why I wrote to Mrs. Wilson and -Mr. Prentiss," she added, not averse to having him -know the real reason now that it could serve her as -a shield. -</p> - -<p> -Her naļve admission was evidently an agreeable -piece of intelligence. "I took for granted -that your salary would continue. That was a -matter I did not have in mind in the least." -</p> - -<p> -"It can't, I assure you." -</p> - -<p> -He appeared entertained by her adamantine air. -"Why not?" -</p> - -<p> -"It isn't an absence of a week or two," she said, -trying to show herself reasonable. "It will be six -months before I am able to work again." -</p> - -<p> -"A whole six months?" -</p> - -<p> -She met the mockery in his tone with quiet -determination. "I could not allow anyone to -support me for that period. Do you not see that I -must find something to do in order to remain -happy?" -</p> - -<p> -"Happy? You do not consider my side. Do -you not see that a haggling calendar account of -weeks and months is not applicable to such service -as you render me? How would the satisfaction of -saving the modest sum I pay you compare with -that I should derive from enabling you to get well -as rapidly as possible, untormented by painful -necessities?" -</p> - -<p> -There was a strange gleam in his eyes. She -looked at him wonderingly. His rhetoric troubled -her, and by dint of it he had managed to make her -scruples seem ungenerous. But she was unconvinced. -</p> - -<p> -"You would be obliged to pay someone else," -she replied with cruel practicality. -</p> - -<p> -"Enough of this," he said, impetuously. "It -is absurd. I have something very different at -heart. When I spoke of your future just now, -Constance, it was to tell you that I have come here, -to-night, to ask you to be my wife—to say to you -that I love you devotedly and cannot live without -you. This is my errand. It is not friendship -I offer, it is not pity, it is not esteem for your -gentle, strong soul, it is passionate human love." -</p> - -<p> -He paused and there was profound silence in -the darkened room where they could scarcely see -each other's faces. Constance trembled like a -leaf. In a moment the whole card-board house of -sisterly affection fell about her ears, and she knew -the truth. These were the sweetest words she had -ever listened to, though they stabbed her like a -knife. "Oh!" she whispered, "Oh!" -</p> - -<p> -"Is it such a surprise, Constance?" he murmured, -ascribing her accents of dismay to that -source. "You must have known you were very -dear to me." -</p> - -<p> -The dimness gave her time to consider how she -should deal with this startling certainty, the music -of which was dancing in her brain. The meaning -of his devotion was now so clear. Yet she had -never guessed either his purpose or the secret of -her own disconcerting heart-beats. -</p> - -<p> -"I knew you were fond of me, but it never occurred -to me that you could think of me as a wife." -</p> - -<p> -"Why not? You are beautiful and charming as -well as sweet and wise, and I adore you." -</p> - -<p> -"I liked to feel that we should go on being dear -friends for the rest of our lives," she answered, -tingling with the thrill which this avowal caused -her. -</p> - -<p> -From the tremor of her speech he was emboldened -to regard the sigh which followed this -simple voicing of the exact truth as an ellipsis -hiding a precious secret. -</p> - -<p> -"Then you love me, Constance?" -</p> - -<p> -Whatever happened, why should he not know? -Why should she deny herself that ecstasy? -</p> - -<p> -"Oh, yes, Gordon, I love you dearly." -</p> - -<p> -"And you will be my wife?" -</p> - -<p> -"How can I, Gordon? You know I must not." There -was gentle pleading in her tone and a tinge -of renunciating sadness. -</p> - -<p> -"I mean presently. As soon as you obtain a -divorce?" -</p> - -<p> -The ugly word brought back reality. "Oh, no, -we must put it from us. It is a delightful vision, -but we must dismiss it forever." -</p> - -<p> -"Why?" he asked, with the resonance of vigorous -manhood. -</p> - -<p> -"Because it would be an offence." -</p> - -<p> -"Against what?" -</p> - -<p> -"The eternal fitness of things." This phrase of -Mrs. Wilson's rose to her lips again as a -shibboleth. "I have made my mistake," she -murmured. "I must suffer the penalty of it." -</p> - -<p> -"Never!" he ejaculated. "It would be -monstrous—monstrous." -</p> - -<p> -There was a momentary silence. While he -gazed at her ardently he was seeking command of -himself so as to plead his cause with discriminating -lucidity. To her darkened sight imagination -pictured a swift river of fire flowing between them, -across which they could touch their finger-tips, but -no more. -</p> - -<p> -"Do not think," he said, "that I have not considered -this question from your side. It has been -in my thoughts night and day for months. The -idea of divorce is repugnant to you—though you -have ceased to love the husband who deeply -wronged you. You shrink even more from marrying -again because your children's father is still -alive. If he were dead, the bar would be removed, -and you would not hesitate. I appeal to your -common sense, Constance. What sound reason is there -why you should sacrifice your happiness—the -happiness of us both?" -</p> - -<p> -"It is not a question of common sense—is it?" -</p> - -<p> -It was a faltering query which followed the -assertion. "The question is, what is right?" -</p> - -<p> -"Amen to that!" he cried. "Yes, right, right. -And who says it is not right?" -</p> - -<p> -She had been so sure she would never marry -again that she had never sought exact knowledge -of her church's attitude in this regard, and yet now -she had her fears. She knew that no Roman -Catholic could marry again during the life of a -divorced husband or wife, except by special -dispensation, and she was aware of the increasing -reluctance of the officials of her own church in -this country to give the sanction of the marriage -service to the remarriage of divorced persons; but -she had never examined the church canon on the -subject, for she had flattered herself that she would -never need to. Discussions of the topic which she -had listened to or read had played like lightnings -around her oblivious head, but had served merely -to intensify her repugnance to the blatant divorces -and double-quick marriages, which she had seen -heralded from time to time in the daily press, and -which had recently been brought home to her with -peculiar force by the events in Mrs. Wilson's -family circle. Now the flare of the lightning was in -her own eyes, and her brain was numb with the -emotion of the personal shock. -</p> - -<p> -"Would Mr. Prentiss marry me to you?" she -asked, seeking as usual the vital issue. -</p> - -<p> -"Your clergyman?" His query was merely to -gain time. But he loved directness, too. "Suppose -that he would not, there are plenty of clergymen -who would." -</p> - -<p> -"But he is my clergyman." -</p> - -<p> -Gordon moved his chair nearer, and bending -forward, took her hand in both of his. -</p> - -<p> -"Dearest, this question is for you and me to -settle, not for any outsider. It must bear the test of -right and wrong, as you say, but I ask you to look -at it as an intelligent human being, as the sane, -noble-hearted American woman you are. The -State—the considered law of the community in -which we live—gives you the right to a divorce -and freedom to marry again. Who stands in the -way? Your clergyman—the representative of -your church. The church erects a standard of -conduct of its own and asks you to sacrifice your -life to it. It is the church against the State—against -the people. It is superstition and privilege -against common sense and justice. I should like -to prove to you by arguments how truly this is so." -</p> - -<p> -"But I would rather not listen to your arguments -now," she interposed. "I am on your side -already. My heart is, and—I think my common -sense." -</p> - -<p> -His pulses gave a bound. "Then nothing can -keep us apart!" he cried, pressing his lips upon -her hands and kissing them again and again. "You -are mine, we belong to one another. Why should -a young and beautiful woman starve her being on -such a plea, and reject such happiness as this?" -</p> - -<p> -She drew her hands gently away, and herself -beyond his reach. "Ah, you mustn't. If my -church objects, it must have a reason, and I must -hear that reason, Gordon. I must consult with -Mr. Prentiss—with him and others. He is not an -outsider. He was my friend and helper in the -bitterest hours of my life." -</p> - -<p> -"He will do his best to take you from me." -</p> - -<p> -She shivered. "How do you know?" -</p> - -<p> -"He cannot help himself. The canon of the -Episcopal Church forbids a clergyman to marry -one who has been divorced for any cause except -adultery. The Catholic Church goes one step -further and forbids altogether the remarriage of -divorced persons. It does not recognize divorce. -A large number of the clergy of your church are -fiercely agitating the adoption of a similar -absolute restriction. The two churches—and their -attitude has stirred up other denominations—are -seeking to fasten upon the American conscience an -ideal inconsistent with the free development of -human society." -</p> - -<p> -She caught at the phrase. "Yet it is an ideal." -</p> - -<p> -Gordon took a long breath. In the ardor of -his mental independence he seemed to be seeking -some fit word to epitomize his deduction. -</p> - -<p> -"It is a fetish!" he said, earnestly. "It represents -the past—privilege—superstition—injustice, -as I have already told you." -</p> - -<p> -"Oh, no," she murmured, "it cannot be simply -that. You forget that I am a woman. You do -not realize what the church means to me." -</p> - -<p> -"I remember that you are an American woman." -</p> - -<p> -The remark evidently impressed her. She -pondered it briefly before she said, "I am, and I -know how much that ought to mean. I wish to -be worthy of it." She appeared troubled; then -putting her hand to her head she rose, seeking -instinctively an end of the interview. "I must think -it over. You must not talk to me any more to-night. -I did not realize how weak I am." Suddenly -she exclaimed, "Ah, Gordon, you do not -understand all! I forsook the church once in the -pride of my heart. I wandered among false gods, -and it took me back without a word of rebuke for -my independence. I must do what is right this -time—what is really right—at any cost." -</p> - -<p> -As she stood in the shadow, erect and piteous, -but with the aspect of spiritual aspiration in her -voice and figure, stalwart as he was in his sense of -righteousness, he thought of Marguerite in the -prison scene when Faust implores her to fly with -him. -</p> - -<p> -"Forgive me," he said, "for having tired and -harassed you. It was my love for you that led -me on." He spoke with tenderness, and under the -spell of his mood dropped on one knee beside her -and looked up in her face. -</p> - -<p> -"You may tell me about that before you go," -she whispered, like one spellbound. -</p> - -<p> -"It is not much to tell—except that it means -everything to me. It has grown from a tiny seed, -little by little, until it has become the harvest and -the glory of my manhood. Ah, Constance, we -love each other. How much that means. It sets -the seal of beauty on this commonplace world. It -will transfigure life for both of us." -</p> - -<p> -She started. "The seal of beauty?" she murmured, -as to herself. "If I were but sure of that! -What I fear is lest I mar the beauty of the world, -and so sin." -</p> - -<p> -"It was my mother's hope that we should marry," -he said, reverting to concrete ground. -</p> - -<p> -"I think so," she answered, faintly, pressing his -hand. -</p> - -<p> -"And her idea was to do right." -</p> - -<p> -"I know." -</p> - -<p> -She sighed, then whispered, "You must go now." -</p> - -<p> -Rising from his posture beside her he prepared -to obey. They stood for an instant, irresolute, -then, as by a common impulse, his arms opened -and she suffered herself to be clasped in his strong -embrace. It seemed to him as he felt her head -upon his breast and her nervous, wistful face -looked up into his that his happiness was assured. -But she was thinking that come what might—and -she was conscious of a dreadful uncertainty in her -heart—she would not deny herself this single -draught of the cup of happiness. It was a precious, -sentient joy to be thought beautiful, and to feel -that she was desired for herself alone by this hero -of her ripe womanhood. So she let herself go as -one who snatches at escaping joy, and their lips -met in the full rapture of a lover's kiss. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap19"></a></p> - -<h3> -XIX -</h3> - -<p> -The news of the tragedy in her daughter's -life—of the double domestic tragedy, which -included her nephew—came to Mrs. Wilson as an -appalling surprise. She had gathered from the -tenor of Lucille's letters that her daughter was not -entirely happy; but her appreciation of this was -derived rather from what she read between the -lines than from actual admissions. It had never -entered her head that there was danger of a rupture -between Lucille and her husband until the dreadful -truth was disclosed to her by her brother. From -him she learned that Paul and his wife had -separated and were to be divorced because of the -relations between Paul's wife and Clarence Waldo. -Carleton Howard added that his son had not the -heart to tell her himself before his departure for -New York, and had delegated him to break the -intelligence. -</p> - -<p> -When the first wholesale mutual commiserations -had been exchanged between the brother and sister, -Mrs. Wilson realized that she was practically in -the dark regarding Lucille. Paul's calamity was -so completely the controlling thought in her -brother's mind that, though he occasionally -deplored the plight in which his niece appeared to be -left, he was evidently bent on working his way -through the labyrinth of his personal dismay until -he could find a clue which would lead his mind to -daylight. After various ebullitions of anger and -disgust, he found this at last in the assertion that -it was best for Paul to be rid of such a wife; that -he had never really fancied his daughter-in-law, -and that the only course was to obliterate her from -their memory. She had disgraced the family, and -her name was never to be mentioned again in his -presence. This was an eminently masculine method -of disposing of the matter. After Mr. Howard -had accepted it as a solution, he was able to -compose himself in his chair and to smoke. For the -past two days, ever since Paul had talked to him, -he had been walking up and down his library, -champing an unlighted cigar, with the measured -stalk of a grim lion. Now his brow lifted appreciably. -But his sister's eyes fell before his aspect -of dignified relief. His solution was of no avail to -her. It could not answer the distressing questions -which were haunting her. Why had not Lucille -written? What did the silence mean? She -resolved that if she did not hear something in the -morning she would take the first train East, for -might not the child be sobbing her heart out, too -mortified even to confide in her mother? Thus -speculating, Mrs. Wilson looked up to inquire once -again whether Paul had not said something more -definite regarding his cousin. She had asked this -twice already, and on each occasion Mr. Howard -had suspended his cogitations in order to ransack -his memory, but only in vain; which was not -strange, for Paul had taken pains in his conversation -with his father to avoid unnecessary allusion -to Lucille, letting her appear, like himself, -an innocent victim of the family disaster. -Mr. Howard was now equally unsuccessful in his -recollection. Yet while he was speaking, the tension -of Mrs. Wilson's mind was relieved by the receipt -of a telegram. Lucille was on her way from -Newport, and would reach Benham the following -evening. -</p> - -<p> -Mrs. Wilson met her at the station. The -mother and daughter embraced with emotion, thus -betraying what was uppermost in the thought of -each. But Lucille promptly recovered her -composure, chatting briskly in the carriage as though -she were bent on avoiding for the time being the -crucial topic. On reaching the house she evinced -a lively interest in the supper which had been -prepared for her, eating with appetite and leading -the conversation to matters of secondary import. -Mrs. Wilson, though burning to ask and to hear -everything, held her peace and bridled her -impatience. It seemed to her that Lucille was looking -well, and had gained in social dignity, which might -partly be accounted for by the fact that she was a -matron and a mother, partly by a slight access of -flesh; but the impression produced on Mrs. Wilson's -mind was that she appeared less spiritually -heedless than formerly—a consummation devoutly -to be desired in this hour of stress. As she watched -her at table she noted with a mother's pride the -tastefulness of her attire, and the sophistication of -her speech. For the first time—much as she had -longed for it in the past—the hope took root in -her heart that their tastes might yet some day -coincide, and each find in allegiance to the fit -development of the human race the true zest of life. -Yet how could Lucille be so calm? How could she -appear so unconcerned? -</p> - -<p> -Lucille's mask, such as it was, was not lifted -until she had been shown to her room. "I will -come to you presently, mamma," she said, and -Mrs. Wilson understood what was meant. When -she came—it was to her mother's boudoir and -study—she had loosened her hair, and was -wrapped in a dainty pink and white wrapper. She -established herself comfortably on a lounge, and -crossed her hands on her breast. Mrs. Wilson was -sitting at her desk obliquely in the line of vision, -so she had merely to turn her head on her supported -elbow in order to command her daughter's -expression. So they sat for a moment, until -Lucille said: -</p> - -<p> -"Well, mamma, I suppose Paul has told you -everything. Clarence and I have separated for -good, and I am on the way to South Dakota." -</p> - -<p> -There was a profound silence. In spite of the -introduction the import of the last words was lost -on Mrs. Wilson. She was simply puzzled. "South -Dakota?" she queried. "Paul told me nothing. -Your uncle——" -</p> - -<p> -"You know surely what has happened?" It was -Lucille's turn to look surprised. -</p> - -<p> -"I know, my child, that your husband has been -false to you with your cousin Paul's wife." -</p> - -<p> -"And both Paul and I are to obtain a divorce." -</p> - -<p> -Mrs. Wilson winced. "Your uncle intimated as -much in the case of Paul. I had hoped you might -not think it obligatory to break absolutely with -your husband. Or, rather, Lucille, my mind was -so full of distress for you that I did not look -beyond the dreadful present. You do not know how -my heart bleeds for you, dear." -</p> - -<p> -As she spoke, Mrs. Wilson left her seat, and -kneeling beside the lounge, put her arms around -her daughter's neck. Lucille, grateful for the -sympathy, raised herself to receive and return the -embrace, but her speech was calm. -</p> - -<p> -"It is a mortification, of course; it would be to -any woman. If he had been faithful to me, I -would never have left him. But we were mismated -from the first. We found out six months after our -marriage that we bored each other; and then we -drifted apart. So there would be no use trying to -patch it up. We should only lead a dog and cat -life. Besides—-" she paused an instant, then -interjected, "I hoped Paul had broken this to you, -mamma—I want to be free because I am going to -marry again." -</p> - -<p> -Mrs. Wilson sprang back as though she had -been buffeted. "Marry again?" she gasped. -</p> - -<p> -Lucille spoke softly but with firmness. "I am -going to marry Mr. Bradbury Nicholson of New -York." She added a few words as to his identity, -then with an emphasis intended to express the -ardor of a soul which has come to its own at last, -exclaimed: -</p> - -<p> -"I'm deeply in love with him, mamma; and I -never was with Clarence. I thought I was, but I -wasn't. This time it's the real thing." -</p> - -<p> -Mrs. Wilson rose and returning to her desk -rested her head again upon her supported elbow. -She was stunned. The shock of the announcement -was such that she did not attempt to speak. But -Lucille, having begun, was evidently bent on -making a clean breast of her affairs. -</p> - -<p> -"So I am on my way to Sioux Falls to obtain a -divorce." -</p> - -<p> -"Why do you go there?" -</p> - -<p> -"Because it is one of the quickest places. Residence -is necessary to enable me to sue, and residence -can be acquired by living there ninety days. Then, -too, the courts don't insist on very strict proof, -so I can obtain a divorce for neglect or cruelty, -and avoid the unpleasantness of alleging anything -worse. I thought of Connecticut, where the law -allows a divorce for any such misconduct as -permanently destroys one's happiness and defeats the -marriage relation, but my lawyer said it would be -simpler and quicker to go to South Dakota. Clarence -knows all about it, and is only too glad, and -he has agreed to give up all claim on baby." -</p> - -<p> -The reference to her grandchild plunged a fresh -dagger into Mrs. Wilson's heart. -</p> - -<p> -"Where is your baby?" she asked, sternly. She -had already in the carriage inquired for its welfare, -taking for granted that its mother had been -unwilling to bring it on what had appeared to be a -flying journey. -</p> - -<p> -"At Newport. Two of my maids and baby are -to join me here. I don't wish to start for a week, -if you will keep me, and, as there was packing still -to be done, and the Newport air is fresher so early -in the autumn, I told them to follow. You may -keep baby here until I send for her, if it would -make you feel any happier, mamma." -</p> - -<p> -Mrs. Wilson made no response to this self-sacrificing -offer. She was asking herself whether it were -not her duty as an outraged parent to rise in her -agony and, pointing to the door, bid Lucille choose -between her lover and herself. But would not this -be old-fashioned? Could she endure to quarrel -with her own and only flesh and blood? Overwhelmed -as she was by her daughter's absolute indifference -to considerations which she reverenced -as the laws of her being, Mrs. Wilson prided herself -on being equally a leader of spiritual progress, a -woman of the world, and an American. She -recognized that it behooved her to display no less -acumen and tact in dealing with her personal problem -than in confronting the quandaries of others. She -knew instinctively that violent opposition would -simply alienate Lucille and confirm her in her -purpose. It was obvious that their point of view was -as divergent as the poles. How could Lucille take -the affair so philosophically? How could she -calmly regard the neglect and sin of her husband -merely as the logical sequence of the discovery that -they were mismated, and find a sufficient explanation -for everything in the announcement that they -had bored each other? Yet Mrs. Wilson -appreciated in those moments of horror that it would be -worse than futile to give bitter utterance to her -emotions. By so doing she would alienate her -daughter and fail to alter the situation. Though -protesting with the full vigor of her being, she -must be reasonable or she could accomplish -nothing. So she put a curb upon her lips. There -were so many things she wished to say that for a -spell she could not formulate her thoughts. She -was reminded that she appeared tongue-tied by -hearing Lucille remark: -</p> - -<p> -"I was afraid that you would be distressed, -mamma. That's why I didn't write or consult -you. You don't approve of divorce, I know. It's -opposed to your ideas of things. But I've thought -over everything thoroughly, and it's the only -possible course for me." -</p> - -<p> -This complacency was disconcerting as a stone -wall, and made still plainer to Mrs. Wilson that -the offender indulgently regretted the necessity of -explaining and vindicating such common-sense -principles. -</p> - -<p> -"It is true, Lucille, that I disapprove of divorce -on ęsthetic if not religious grounds. It is an -unsavory institution." She paused a moment to give -complete effect to the phrase. "It seems to me to -diminish spiritual self-respect, and to impair that -feminine delicacy which is an essential ornament -of civilization. At the same time, if you had told -me that, on account of your husband's sin, you had -decided not merely to leave him, but to dissolve the -bond, I should have demurred, perhaps, but I -should have acquiesced. I should have counselled -you to live apart without divorce, as I regard -marriage as a sacrament of the Christian church, but -I should have accepted your decision to the -contrary without a serious pang. But you have just -told me, my child, that you are seeking a divorce -from your husband because you are mismated, in -order to become as quickly as possible the wife of -another man, whom you profess to love. I cannot -prevent you from doing this if you insist, but as -your mother, I cannot let you commit what seems -to me, from the most lenient standpoint, a gross -indelicacy, without seeking to dissuade you." -</p> - -<p> -In conjunction with her ambition to reason in a -triple capacity, Mrs. Wilson was well aware that -the world demands promptness of decision no less -than wisdom from its busy leaders; that the public -relies on the past equipment of the lawyer or the -physician for correct advice on the spur of the -moment. It was her custom to face confidently -the problems of life which others invited her to -solve, as a surgeon confronts the operating table, -ready to do her best on the spot. She knew that -the consciousness of being rushed is part of the -penalty of success, and that half the effectiveness -of a busy person consists in the ability to think and -act quickly. So now, face to face with her own -dire problem, her mind centred on the fit solution -of her daughter's tragedy, she relied on the same -method, yearning to apply the knife, tie up the -ligaments and cauterize the heart-sorrow in -summary fashion by virtue of her past equipment. So -she spoke with conviction, yet aware that the -problem presented had been hitherto for her mainly -academic, and now for the first time loomed up -on the horizon of life as an immediate practical -issue. -</p> - -<p> -Pursuing her theme Mrs. Wilson singled out -for urgent protest the one point which stood out -like an excrescence on the surface of the sorry -story, and put all else in the background—the -projected hasty marriage. Its precipitancy -offended her most cherished sensibilities. With all -the sentiment and mental suppleness at her -command she endeavored to point out the vulgarity -of the proceeding. How was it to be reconciled -with true womanly refinement? Was the holy -state of matrimony to be shuffled off and on as -though it were a misfit glove? She appealed to -the claims of good taste and family pride. But, -though Lucille listened decorously, it was obvious -that the effect of the scandal of mutual prompt -remarriages had no terrors for her. Or, rather, -when her mother paused, she disputed it, claiming -that the affair would be a seven days' wonder; -that the world would speedily forget, or, at least, -forgive, if the new ventures proved successful; -that precipitancy in such cases was not novel, and -that the people whose social approbation she -desired would consider her sensible for putting an -end to an intolerable relation and claiming her -happiness at the earliest possible date. -</p> - -<p> -From a wholesale plea of what she referred to -as spiritual decency directed against unseemly -haste, Mrs. Wilson, sick at heart, began to -particularize, and at the same time enlarged her -attitude so as to disclose her innate feeling against -divorce in general. She spoke of the plight of the -children concerned, and in alluding to her grandchild, -her tone was piteous. The thought seemed -to give her courage, so that when Lucille, who -evidently had a pat response to this contention -ready, sought to interrupt, Mrs. Wilson raised a -warning hand to signify that she must insist on -being heard to the end. She dwelt upon the value -of the home to human society, and in this appeal -she gave free utterance to her religious convictions, -defending the sacredness of the marriage tie -from the point of view of Christian orthodoxy. -She spoke with emotion and at some length, -though she had never thought the matter out -hitherto as a personal issue, she found that she -had in reserve a whole set of argumentative -principles to back her ęsthetic eloquence. She urged -upon her daughter that if neither good taste, -family pride, nor maternal solicitude would restrain -her, she heed the teachings of the church, which -had prescribed the law of strict domestic ties as -essential to the righteous development of human -civilization, and which regarded the family as the -corner-stone of social order and social beauty. -Was her only child prepared to fly so flagrantly -in the face of this teaching? Would she refuse to -reverence this standard? As she evolved this final -plea, Mrs. Wilson felt herself on firmer ground. -It seemed to her that she had welded all her -protesting instincts into a comprehensive claim which -could not be resisted, for, though emphasizing the -obligations of the soul, she had tried to be both -broad and modern. She had not quoted the -language of Scripture—the words of Christ -imposing close limitations, if not an absolute bar on -divorce. She felt that there was more chance in -influencing Lucille through an intellectual appeal -to her sense of social wisdom based on present -conditions, though to the speaker's own mind the -modern argument was simply a vindication of the -precious inspired truth. But she dismissed the -thought that her daughter was regarding her as -old-fashioned, and she spoke from the depths of -her being, so that when she ceased, there were tears -upon her cheeks. -</p> - -<p> -Lucille had listened indulgently with downcast -eyes. She was unmoved; nevertheless, with -nervous inappropriateness, she turned slowly round -and round the wedding-ring on her finger as she -revolved her mother's appeal. When the end came -she remained respectfully silent for a moment, but -there was matter-of-fact definiteness in her reply. -</p> - -<p> -"You know, mamma, that you and I never did -agree on things like that. I don't recognize the -right of the church to interfere, so I put religion -put of the question. As to injury to civilization, -it seems to me of no advantage to society, and -preposterous besides, that two persons utterly -mismated, like Clarence and me, should continue -wretched all our lives when the law of the land -will set us free. What good would it do if I -remained single?" -</p> - -<p> -"Live apart, if you like; but to marry again—and -so quickly, Lucille, is an offence both against -the flesh and the spirit," said Mrs. Wilson, tensely. -"Good? It would help to maintain the integrity -of the home upon which progressive civilization -rests." -</p> - -<p> -Lucille pursed her lips. "I shall have a home -when I marry again. A far happier home than -before; and baby will be far happier than if she -grew up in a discordant household where there -was no love and mutual indifference. Besides, -supposing I didn't marry again—supposing Paul's -wife did not marry again, what would happen? -We should lead immoral lives, as people similarly -situated do in the Latin countries, where the -church forbids the marriage of divorced persons. -It ought to satisfy you, mamma, that there is not -a word of truth in the story of too intimate -relations between me and Mr. Nicholson circulated at -Newport. I told him I should keep him at arm's -length until I was divorced and at liberty to marry -him. I let him kiss me once, and that was all. -What would a woman in Paris or London have -done? The church there doesn't seem to mind -what goes on behind the scenes, provided the mass -of the people is kept in ignorance." -</p> - -<p> -Mrs. Wilson had colored at the reference to -calumniating rumors. It was clear, now, why -Paul had preferred to speak by proxy. Could it -be her own daughter who was claiming credit for -such forbearance? Her first impulse was to -inquire what conduct had given rise to the more -serious imputation, but she shrank from the -question. It was Lucille who spoke first. -</p> - -<p> -"I assure you, I expect to have a very charming -home, and, if I have more children, to bring them -up well. In a year or two the hateful past will -seem only a nightmare. Why should you or the -church seek to deprive me of happiness? In my -individual case our—your church would marry me -because my husband had been unfaithful, provided -I procured a divorce on that ground—which -I do not intend to do. But I am defending -myself on general principles. As your daughter you -would wish me to have the courage of my convictions." -</p> - -<p> -Mrs. Wilson sighed. This appeal to her -independence was discouragingly genuine. "Then, -where do you draw the line?" she asked, -repeating a formula. -</p> - -<p> -"As to divorce?" Lucille shrugged her shoulders. -"The courts decide that, I suppose. I asked -what the law was, and the lawyer told me." -</p> - -<p> -Mrs. Wilson groaned. "The courts! And, -accordingly, you apply to the court which will grant -you a divorce most speedily." -</p> - -<p> -"And with the least possible unpleasant procedure. -Certainly, I wish to be married as soon as -possible." -</p> - -<p> -"The law must be changed." Mrs. Wilson -clasped her hands energetically. -</p> - -<p> -"Very likely, mamma. Now we are on sensible -ground. But if the law were made more strict the -church would still object. So it wouldn't make -much difference from your point of view." -</p> - -<p> -There was a touch of complacent paganism in -the tone of this last remark which fused Mrs. Wilson's -poignant emotions to a fever point. -</p> - -<p> -"It crucifies renunciation. It is individualism -run mad. Child, child!" she exclaimed, "do not -be too sure that easy-going rationalism is the -answer to all the problems of the universe. The -time will yet come when you will recognize what -ideals mean—when your eyes will be opened to -the unseen things of the spirit. Before you take -this step I beg of you to talk with Mr. Prentiss." -</p> - -<p> -Lucille shook her head, but her reply was unexpectedly -humble. She avoided an opinion regarding -the prophecy, but her words disclosed that she -wished her mother to perceive that her soul had -its own troubles, and was not altogether -self-congratulatory in its processes. -</p> - -<p> -"Of course I would give anything if Clarence -and I had not fallen out, and our marriage proved -a failure. I can see that such an experience takes -the freshness from any woman's life. It would be -of no use, however, for me to see Mr. Prentiss. -We should differ fundamentally. I do not regard -marriage as a sacrament, he does. You see I have -considered the question from all sides, mamma." -</p> - -<p> -"You regard it as a contract, I suppose," said -Mrs. Wilson, pensively. -</p> - -<p> -"Yes; the most solemn, the most important of -contracts, if you like, but a contract." Lucille was -trying to be reasonable, but her sense of humor -suddenly getting the better of her filial discretion, -she added: -</p> - -<p> -"Why, of course, it is simply a contract. Everyone -except clergymen regards it so nowadays. If -Clarence had died, I could marry again; why -shouldn't I be just as free, when he has been -untrue to me, to regard our marriage at an end—and——" -</p> - -<p> -Mrs. Wilson put up her hand. "I am familiar -with the argument. For adultery, perhaps, yes; -but for everything else, no. And the Roman -Church forbids it absolutely." She reflected a -moment, then, as one who has worked out vindication -for an ancient principle by the light of modern -ideas, she added, impressively, "It may well be, -that from the standpoint of the welfare of the -home—the protection of human society against -rampant selfish individualism—the oldest church -of all was wise, and is wise, in insisting on -adherence to the letter of the words of Christ as best -adapted to the safety of civilization. And that, -too," she continued, significantly, "even though the -souls affected sin in secret, because they cannot -override the law. I do not say," she added, -noticing the surprise in her daughter's face, "that -this winking of the church is defensible; but I -submit that the consequences can be no worse than -those resulting from the flood-tide of easy divorce, -the fruit of unbridled caprice." -</p> - -<p> -"And what do you say to the attitude of the -Church of England, of which our Episcopal -Church is an offshoot. An English woman in -Newport told me the other day that a wife -cannot obtain a divorce from her husband unless -infidelity be coupled with cruel and abusive -treatment, though the contrary is true in case of a man. -A husband can have his affairs, provided he does -not make them public or beat his wife, but she -must toe the mark. And in England the law of -the church is the law of the land." -</p> - -<p> -Mrs. Wilson pondered a moment. "Our Episcopal -Church sanctions no such distinction. But, -after all, woman is not quite the same as man. Her -standard is different; she still expects to be held to -a subtler sense of beauty and duty in matters which -involve the perpetuation of the race. The English -rule seems old-fashioned to us, for we insist on -equal purity for the husband and the wife as -essential to domestic unity. Yet the framers of that -law were wise in their day; wise, surely, if the -doctrine of loose marital bonds is to imperil the -permanence of the institution we call the family." -</p> - -<p> -"But I fail to see the advantage to human society -of any family the two chief members of which -are at daggers drawn, and mutually unhappy." -</p> - -<p> -Mrs. Wilson recognized that the gulf of -contradiction which yawned between them was -bottomless, and not to be bridged. We learn with -reluctance that each generation is a law unto itself. -Yet she said, as a swan song, "The Episcopal -Church and also the Roman Catholic Church stand -for, and reverence, the ideals of beauty, of -imagination, of aspiration. They abhor spiritual -commonness. They forget not the words of the -proverb: 'Keep thy heart with all diligence, for out of -it are the issues of life.' Divorce is a device of -mediocrity and dwarfed vision. It is a perquisite -of commonness." -</p> - -<p> -The phrase made Lucille start, and she sat -troubled for a moment. To be adjudged common -was the most disconcerting indictment which could -have been framed. But reflection was reassuring. -She answered presently. -</p> - -<p> -"I'm sure it won't make any difference in my -case; everybody I care about will call on me just -the same." -</p> - -<p> -Meanwhile, under the shock to her convictions, -Mrs. Wilson had bowed her face on her hands on -her desk, and hot tears moistened her palms. -Lucille watched her nervously, then rose and went to -her, and put her arm about her. "You mustn't feel -so badly, mamma. It will come out all right: I -know it will. I am certain to be happy—and -though you may not think it, I am much more -serious than I used to be. Of course, I wouldn't -belong to any other church than the Episcopal; all -the nicest people one knows are Episcopalians now. -As you say, that and the Roman Catholic are the -only ones which appeal to the imagination." -</p> - -<p> -Mrs. Wilson's tears flowed faster at this -demonstration of sympathy. She accepted and was -soothed by the caresses, but she was ashamed of -and stunned by her defeat, and could not reconcile -herself to it. She would make one effort more. -</p> - -<p> -"Since you will not permit Mr. Prentiss to -remonstrate with you," she said, "you will, at least, -talk with your uncle?" -</p> - -<p> -Lucille reflected. She had not forgotten the -diamond tiara with which her uncle had presented -her as a wedding present, the crowning act of -many splendid donations, though to have only one -tiara had already become a sign of relative -impecuniosity in the social circle in which she aspired -to move. The wife of a genuine multi-millionaire -was expected to have as many tiaras as she had -evening dresses. Lucille was fond of her uncle, -and she still wished to appear what she considered -reasonable. "He could not alter my determination, -mamma. But if Uncle Carleton wishes to -talk with me, I shall feel bound to listen," she -responded. -</p> - -<p> -Mrs. Wilson felt encouraged by the first effect -on her brother of the announcement of Lucille's -plans. From Paul's report, Mr. Howard had -assumed that his niece, like his son, was simply a -victim of the distressing double-tragedy, and the -news of Lucille's projected hasty divorce with a -view to immediate remarriage offended his sense -of propriety and evoked at once a fiat no less -explicit than his earlier declaration that the sooner -Paul's nuptial knot was cut, and the wretched -business terminated, the better. His present -words—that such indecorous proceedings were not to be -tolerated for a moment—were uttered with the -deliberate emphasis which marked his important -verdicts—his railroad manner, some people called -it—and conveyed the impression of a reserve force -not to be resisted with impunity. The interview -between him and Lucille took place in the evening, -and lasted nearly an hour. Mrs. Wilson was not -present. At its close she heard her daughter -re-enter the house through the private passageway -and go up-stairs. Shortly after, her brother joined -her. He sat for a few moments without speaking, -as though reviewing what had occurred, then said, -with the plausible air of one claiming the right to -revise a judgment in the light of having heard the -other side of the issue: -</p> - -<p> -"Apparently we have to decide whether we prefer -that Lucille should marry young Nicholson as -soon as the law allows, or that she should continue -to receive his marked attentions, which have -already inspired compromising rumors, happily -baseless. It seems that the object of her infatuation—a -circumstance which she did not state to you—is -anxious—in fact, hopes, to obtain one of the minor -diplomatic appointments. His father, as you -know, is president of the Chemical Trust and -intimate with some of the influential Senators. -Should I intervene in his behalf with the authorities -at Washington, the probabilities of his obtaining -the position, already excellent, will be improved, -provided, of course, there is no scandal. -If we could shut Lucille up—confine her by -summary process for six months, until she had time -to reflect—she might change her attitude. At any -rate, we should avoid the precipitancy which is the -most objectionable feature of the affair. But the -girl is a free agent. We cannot prevent her from -going to South Dakota if she insists, and she does -insist. She refuses to wait the three years requisite -to obtain a divorce for desertion here; and were -she to allege what the newspapers are pleased to -call the statutory offence, the proof required by -our court would be exceedingly painful. She -prefers a more accommodating jurisdiction, where -fewer questions are asked, and the tie is promptly -dissolved. So on the whole——" -</p> - -<p> -He paused to choose his phraseology, and his -sister, guessing its substance, interposed: -</p> - -<p> -"Then you sided with her?" -</p> - -<p> -"On the contrary, I opposed her strenuously. -I expressed my disapproval in positive terms. But -it became evident to me that she is in love with -this young man and determined to marry him, and -from every point of view I prefer the sanction of -the law to clandestine illicit relations. Would you -prefer to have her abstain from a divorce and live -abroad with Bradbury Nicholson? That is what -she intimated would happen if she followed our -wishes." -</p> - -<p> -Mrs. Wilson groaned. "And to think that this -is the reasoning of my daughter!" -</p> - -<p> -"I will do her the justice to say," continued -Mr. Howard, joining the points of his fingers, "that she -talked quietly and with some discrimination. It -troubles her greatly that you are distressed. I -disapprove of her conduct, but I was pleased on -the whole with her mental powers." -</p> - -<p> -"Yes. She is cleverer than I supposed," murmured -Mrs. Wilson. "So you gave in?" -</p> - -<p> -"Not at all. We agreed to differ. I presume -you did not wish me to quarrel with her?" -</p> - -<p> -"Oh, no. We must never do that." -</p> - -<p> -"Exactly. In the course of our discussion she -asked me if I thought she ought to remain a widow -all her days, and, as a reasonable human being, I -was obliged to admit that there was much to be -said on her side." -</p> - -<p> -"A widow! She is not a widow." -</p> - -<p> -"She chose the word, not I. She tells me that -you have already discussed with her the religious—the -sentimental side of the question." -</p> - -<p> -"And failed utterly." -</p> - -<p> -There was a silence, which was broken by the -banker. "I advise you, Miriam, to make the best -of a painful situation. There are only two courses -open: to disown her, or to let her follow her own -course, and put the best front on it we can. After -all, she is only doing what thousands of other -women in this country——" -</p> - -<p> -"Ah, yes!" cried Mrs. Wilson. "And with that -argument what becomes of noble standards—of -fine ideals of life? I almost wish I had the moral -courage to show myself the Spartan mother, and -to disown her." -</p> - -<p> -"Oh, no, you don't. You would only make -yourself miserable." Having discovered that he -had been checkmated, it was a business maxim with -Mr. Howard to accept the inevitable and clear the -board of vain regrets. He set himself to counteract -these hysterical manifestations of his sister. -"Besides, it would do no good in this case to cut -off the revenue, for Nicholson has plenty for them -both. To disinherit one's children is an antiquated -method of self-torture." -</p> - -<p> -"I had no reference to money," answered Mrs. Wilson -with a gesture to express disdain for the -consideration. "I was thinking of my love as a -mother." -</p> - -<p> -"You cannot help loving her, whatever -happens," answered her brother significantly. -</p> - -<p> -Mrs. Wilson acknowledged the force of this -comment by a piteous stare. She forsook the -personal for the philosophic attitude. "But if this -loose view of the marriage tie is to obtain, where -is it to end? How long will it be before we -imitate the degeneracy of Rome? We are imitating -it already." -</p> - -<p> -"I made a similar remark to Lucille. I reminded -her that the ease and frequency of divorce -were among the causes of the decline of Rome. -Her reply was that we are Americans, not -Romans. Of course, there is something in what she -says. Our point of view is very different from -theirs." Mr. Howard felt of his strong chin -meditatively. -</p> - -<p> -"But where is it to end?" repeated Mrs. Wilson -in a tragic tone. -</p> - -<p> -He shook his head. "It is an abuse, I admit; -especially as administered in some of our States. -Presently, when we get time, we Americans will -take the question up and go into it thoroughly." -</p> - -<p> -The hopeless incongruity of this reply from -Mrs. Wilson's point of view put the finishing -touch to their conversation. It was obvious to her -that she could not expect true sympathy or -comprehension from her brother. It was clear that he -was satisfied with opportunist methods, and that -the precise truth had no immediate charms for him. -</p> - -<p> -Rebuffed in respect to the support of both her -champions, Mrs. Wilson felt strangely powerless; -almost limp. She made no further appeal to her -daughter; the discussion was not resumed, but -when the baby arrived, she reminded Lucille of the -proposal that she keep possession of her grandchild -during its mother's sojourn in South Dakota, -and accepted it. This was some comfort, and -Mrs. Wilson remained in a trance, as it were, -seeking neither sympathy nor outside suggestion until -after the evil day of Mrs. Waldo's departure. -</p> - -<p> -Not until then did she send for Mr. Prentiss. -That the rector could do nothing to thwart the -programme outlined by Lucille was clear, and she -had dreaded the possibility of his advising an -attitude on her part which would induce complete -estrangement from her daughter. When he came -she was relieved that he made no such suggestion. -He seemed, like herself, overwhelmed with dismay, -and, after he had heard her story, equally -conscious of helplessness in the premises. Indeed -it resulted that Mr. Prentiss, having realized that -he could be of no avail in the particular emergency, -turned from the shocking present to the future. -Lucille was beyond the pale of influence (though -he declared his intention of writing to her), but -this painful example would be a fresh spur to the -church to take strong ground against the deadly -peril to Christian civilization involved in playing -fast and loose with the marriage tie. Mr. Prentiss -glowed with the thought of what he could and -would put into a sermon. Consciousness of the -abuse had for some time been smouldering in his -mind, and he reflected that it was time for him to -imitate the example of other leaders of his sect by -undertaking a crusade against indiscriminate -divorce. Appalled as he was by the behavior of his -friend's daughter, he reverted—but not aloud—to -his previous opinion that it had been a godless -marriage. Hence there was less occasion for -surprise, and the instance in question lost some of its -pathos as a consequence. But it provided him with -a terrible incentive for saving others from the -pitfall which had engulfed this self-sufficient and -worldly minded young woman. His zeal -communicated itself to Mrs. Wilson—for he did not -fail in due manifestation of personal sympathy—and -when he left her at the end of a visit of two -hours her favorite impulse toward social reform -was already acting as a palliative to her anguish -and disappointment as a mother. -</p> - -<p> -A few days later her brother informed her that -Paul's wife had refused to wait the three years -necessary to entitle the one or other of them -to institute dignified divorce proceedings, on the -ground of desertion, in the State where her -husband had his domicile, and that she had gone to -Nebraska to pursue her own remedy. Mr. Howard, -though obviously disgusted, finally dismissed -the matter with a sweep of his hand, and -the utterance, "I guess, on the whole, the sooner -he is rid of her the better." But this apothegm, -which for a second time did him service, only -increased his sister's dejection. The disgrace of the -family seemed to stare her in the face more potently -than ever. Following within a few weeks of this -information came the disclosures in the newspapers -of the double divorce with their sensational -innuendoes as to what had occurred at Newport. For -three days she kept the house, too sick at heart to -attempt to simulate in public the veneer of an -unruffled countenance. Then she visited Gordon -Perry's office, and consulted him as to the feasibility of -putting some legal obstacle in the way of her -daughter's procedure; but learned from him, as she -had feared, that she was powerless. When she -resumed her ordinary avocations she feared lest the -shame she felt should mantle her cheek and impair -the varnish of well-bred serenity. It was while -she was in this frame of mind that she was accosted -by Loretta, and the effect of the bald remarks was -as though someone had invaded her bosom with -a rude cold hand. They froze her to the marrow, -and while, on second thought, she ascribed the -liberty to ignorance, she felt disappointed at the -evolution of her ward. Such lack of delicacy, such -inability to appreciate the vested rights of the soul -argued ill for Loretta's progress in refinement. -There was no second invasion of Mrs. Wilson's -privacy. It seemed to her, as the days passed, that -she had been through a crushing illness, and she -felt the mental lassitude of slow convalescence. -The receipt of Mrs. Stuart's brief letter informing -her that she had been injured and was in need of -counsel was a sudden reminder that she had -allowed her personal sorrow to render her selfishly -heedless of all else. It served as the needed tonic -to her system. She swept away the cobwebs of -depression from her brain, and with a firm purpose -to resume her place in the world despatched forthwith -a sympathetic note and two bunches of choice -grapes to the invalid, and on the following morning -gave orders to her coachman to drive her to -Lincoln Chambers. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap20"></a></p> - -<h3> -XX -</h3> - -<p> -The sight of Constance's colored glasses -stirred Mrs. Wilson's sensibilities, already -on edge. -</p> - -<p> -"You poor child!" she exclaimed, advancing -with emotional eagerness, as the culmination of -which she drew the young woman toward her and -kissed her. This was a touch of bounty beyond -Mrs. Wilson's ordinary reserve, but in bestowing -it she was conscious that the recipient had deserved -it, and consequently she was pleased at having -yielded to the impulse. Besides having noticed -with satisfaction the gradual change in Constance's -appearance—both her increasing comeliness and -tasteful adaptiveness in respect to dress—it -distressed her that her ward's charm should be -marred by so unęsthetic an accompaniment. -</p> - -<p> -"What does this mean? What grisly thing has -happened?" -</p> - -<p> -Constance was touched by the embrace. She -had passed a sleepless night confronting her -exciting problem. Already this morning she had -listened to the passages in those chapters of the -first three gospels, Matthew xix, Mark x and Luke -xvi, in which are set forth Christ's doctrine -concerning divorce and remarriage. As soon as the -children had gone to school, she had taken her -concordance of the Bible from the shelf, and heedless -of Mrs. Harrity's wonder, had pressed the old -woman into service to find and read to her the -texts in question. Constance had not considered -these for years, and had only a general remembrance -of their phraseology, but in the watches of -the night her thoughts had turned to them as -traditional spiritual sign-posts with which she must -familiarize herself forthwith. Just before -Mrs. Wilson's entrance she had taken up her broom, -hoping that, while she performed her necessary -housework, she might thresh out the truth from -her bundle of doubts. What if the truth meant -the sacrifice of bright, alluring prospects for her -children, and of her own new, great happiness? -Could it then be the truth? More than ever did -she feel the need of counsel and sympathy. At the -appearance of her benefactress her pulses bounded, -and the appeal in her glad greeting doubtless gave -a cue to the visitor's initiative. The gracious kiss -on her cheek, so unexpected and so grateful, added -the finishing touch to her overstrained nerves, and -she burst into tears. -</p> - -<p> -Mrs. Wilson folded her in her arms and encouraged -her to sob. Such philanthropy seemed -to bless the giver no less than the receiver. She -had arrived in the nick of time to be of service. -</p> - -<p> -"There, there," she said, "you are suffering; -you should be in bed. You must tell me presently -everything, and I will send my own doctor to -prescribe for you." So, presuming the cause of this -distress, she stroked the back of Constance's hair -and held her soothingly. -</p> - -<p> -For some moments Constance made no attempt -to check her convulsive mood, but with her head -bowed on the friendly shoulder wept hysterically. -When the reaction came she drew back dismayed -at having lost her self-control, and as she wiped -away her tears and hastily regained her ordinary -dignity of spirit, exclaimed, "It isn't that. I have -been in bed—I had a fall in the street; but I am -quite strong again except for my eyes. I am -forbidden to use them for six months. But otherwise -I am as well as ever. And I have had a competent -doctor." -</p> - -<p> -"Not use your eyes for six months?" -</p> - -<p> -There was incredulity no less than horror in -Mrs. Wilson's tone. Constance was herself again -by this time. She made her visitor sit down, and -she succinctly described the circumstances of the -accident and the specialist's examination, so that -the authenticity of his verdict and the reality of -her predicament were patent. Mrs. Wilson rose -gladly and promptly to what seemed to her the -occasion. -</p> - -<p> -"You poor child. It is cruel—disastrous. But -give yourself no concern. I shall claim my -prerogative as a warm friend to see that you and -yours do not suffer until the time when you are -able to resume your regular work. Your employer, -Mr. Perry, what has he said to this? His -necessities oblige him to let you go, I dare say." -</p> - -<p> -"On the contrary, he has been kindness itself. -He wished me to remain; he would have invented -occupation for me. Then I wrote to you and -Mr. Prentiss. It occurred to me that you might think -of something genuine which I could do for a living -until I could use my eyes." Constance paused. -Her heart was in her mouth again at the approach -of the impending revelation. -</p> - -<p> -"Leave it all to me. There will not be the -slightest difficulty. I will find just the -thing." Then, suspecting that Constance's troubled look -was due to suspicion of this blithe generality, -Mrs. Wilson bent forward and added beseechingly, -"You will let me help you this time, won't -you?" -</p> - -<p> -"Indeed I will—if—if you wish," answered -Constance with a sweet smile. So at this heart-to-heart -appeal she stripped herself of her pride as -of a superfluous garment and cast it from her. -Then she said, "You don't understand. Everything -has changed since I wrote to you yesterday -afternoon. I need your help, your advice, -Mrs. Wilson, more than I ever needed it before. You -do not know how thankful I was when I saw you -at the door. I have been trying to bring myself -to the point ever since. I think I can talk -composedly now. Last evening my employer, -Mr. Gordon Perry, asked me to become his wife." -</p> - -<p> -The instinctive thrill which the disclosure of -unsuspected romance inspires in every woman -seized Mrs. Wilson, and with it swift realization -of what a piece of good fortune from every point -of view had befallen her deserving ward. -Constance's tears and need for counsel suggested but -one thing, a situation old as the hills, but like them -always interesting. Jumping at this hypothesis, -Mrs. Wilson, eager to show that she had comprehended -in a flash, responded, "And you do not love him?" -</p> - -<p> -"That is the pity of it; I love him with all my -heart." -</p> - -<p> -Then Mrs. Wilson remembered. She had been -so accustomed to think of Constance as alone in -the world, that in the first glow of interest she had -overlooked the crucial fact in the case. The -recollection of it was disconcerting in a double sense, -for she suddenly found herself confronting the -same dire problem from the haunting consideration -of which she had just emerged. But though -her first resulting emotion was similar to that -which one feels at re-encountering an obnoxious -acquaintance, from whom one has escaped, that -which followed was a sense of contrast between -the two points of view presented by the separate -situations, which culminated in the animating -thought that here at last was a soul alive to its -own responsibilities. Meanwhile she heard -Constance say by way of interpretation: -</p> - -<p> -"My husband is still living so far as I know, -and I have never been divorced from him." -</p> - -<p> -Mrs. Wilson put up her hand. "I know, I -know, my dear. Pardon the momentary lapse. I -am entirely aware of your circumstances. And -there is no need, Constance, to explain anything. -Believe me, I appreciate all; I understand the -meaning of your agitation, I recognize the luminous -reality of the issue with which you have been -brought face to face." -</p> - -<p> -Constance drew a deep breath. It was a relief -to her to be spared preliminaries and to pass -directly to the vital question. -</p> - -<p> -"It would mean so much for my children." -</p> - -<p> -To Mrs. Wilson's ear the simple words were -imbued with a plaintive but courageous sadness, -suggesting that the speaker was already conscious -that this plea for her own flesh and blood, -although the most convincing she could utter, fell -short of justification. -</p> - -<p> -"It would." -</p> - -<p> -Constance ignored if she observed the laconic -intensity of the acquiescence. She was bent on -setting forth the argument with more color, so she -continued: -</p> - -<p> -"If I become Mr. Perry's wife, my children's -future is assured. My son will be able to acquire -a thorough education in art; my daughter, instead -of being obliged to earn her living before she is -mature, will have leisure to cultivate refinement. -They would become members of a different social -class. I need not explain to you, Mrs. Wilson, -for it is from you that I have learned the value -and the power of beauty. I covet for them -the chance to gain appreciation of what is -inspiring and beautiful in life, so that they need -not be handicapped by ignorance as I have -been." -</p> - -<p> -No other appeal so well adapted to engage her -listener's sympathies could have been devised by a -practical schemer. And the obvious ingenuousness -of the almost naļve statement increased the force -of it, for like the woman herself the plea stood out -in simple relief impressive through its very lack -of circumlocution and sophistry. Except for the -church's ban a new marriage seemed the most -desirable—the most natural thing for this -sympathetic woman in the heyday of feminine maturity -and usefulness. Mrs. Wilson felt the blood rush -to her face as the currents of religious and ęsthetic -interest collided. Her brain was staggered for a -moment. -</p> - -<p> -"Oh, yes. I am sure you do," she murmured. -"But——" -</p> - -<p> -Her utterance was largely mechanical and the -pause betrayed the temporary equilibrium of -contending forces. But Constance received the -qualifying conjunction as a warning note. -</p> - -<p> -"There is a 'but,' an unequivocal 'but.' That -is why I wish to consult you. I need your help. -There is something more to add, though, first. -Marriage with Gordon Perry would freshen, -sweeten my life, and make a new woman of me. -He is the finest man I have ever known." She -spoke the last sentence with heightened emphasis, -plainly glorying in the avowal. "The simple question -is, must I—is it my duty, to renounce all this? -I ask you to tell me the truth." -</p> - -<p> -"The truth?" Mrs. Wilson echoed the words -still in a maze. Yet the clew was already in her -grasp, and she delayed following it only because -the greatness of the responsibility, precious as it -was to her, kept her senses vibrant. At length she -said with emotion: -</p> - -<p> -"This is a strange coincidence, Constance. I -have been face to face with this same issue for the -past fortnight. My daughter has begun divorce -proceedings against her husband in order to marry -again. They simply were tired of each other; that -is the true, flippant reason they are separating. -Each is to marry someone else. Her light view -of the marriage relation has almost broken my -heart. And what is to blame? The low standard -of society in respect to the sacredness of the -marriage tie. I endeavored with all my soul to -dissuade her, but in vain. I come from her to you. -The circumstances of your two lives are very -different, but is not the principle involved the same? -My dear, if Lucille—my daughter—could have -seen the question as you see it, I should have been -a happy mother. You ask my opinion. I recognize -the solemnity of the trust. A blissful future -is before you if you marry, welfare for your -children and yourself. But in the other scale of the -balance are the eternal verities, the duty one owes -to society, the fealty one owes to Christ. You -spoke of beauty. The most beautiful life of all is -that which embraces renunciation for a great cause, -even at the cost of the most alluring human joys -and privileges." -</p> - -<p> -Gaining in fluency as she proceeded, because -more and more enamoured of the cruel necessity -of the sacrifice, Mrs. Wilson poured into these -concluding words all the intensity of her nature. She -would gladly have fallen on her knees and joined -in ecstatic prayer with the victim had the demeanor -of the latter given her the chance. Her heart was -full of admiration and of pity for Constance and -also of solicitude for the triumph of a human soul -in behalf of an ideality which was at the same -time the highest social wisdom. If for a moment -her modern mind had revolted at the sternness of -the sacrifice demanded, she was now spellbound by -the shibboleth which meditation on her late experience -had reaffirmed on her lips as a rallying cry, -the safety of the home. -</p> - -<p> -"You cannot be ignorant," she exclaimed in -another burst of expression, "that the stability of -the family—the greatest safeguard of civilization—is -threatened. What is the happiness of -the individual compared with the welfare of all? -In this day of easy divorces and quick remarriages -is it not your duty to heed the teaching of the -Christian Church, which stands as the champion -of the sacrament of marriage?" -</p> - -<p> -Constance's mien during the delivery of this -exhortation suggested that of a prisoner of war -listening to sentence of death, one who yearned to -live, but who was trying already to derive comfort -from the consequent glory; yet a prisoner, too, -who clung to life and who was not prepared to -accept his doom, however splendid, without -exhausting every possibility of escape. Though her -face reflected spiritual appreciation of the great -opportunity for service held out to her, and her -nostrils quivered, her almost dauntless and -obviously critical brow offered no encouragement to -Mrs. Wilson's hope of a tumultuous quick -surrender. She listened, weighing impartially the -value of every word. But suddenly at the final -sentences she quivered, as though they had pierced -the armor of her suspended judgment, and inflicted -a mortal wound. -</p> - -<p> -"Would the church demand it absolutely?" she -asked after a moment. -</p> - -<p> -"Our church forbids remarriage except in case -of divorce for adultery granted to the innocent -party. The language of Christ in the gospel of -Matthew seems to sanction this exception, -contrary to His teaching as expressed in the other -gospels. But there are many who maintain with -the Roman Catholic Church that the marriage tie -can be dissolved only by death." -</p> - -<p> -"I know. I had them read to me this morning." -</p> - -<p> -Though Mrs. Wilson regarded herself as a -liberal constructionist of scriptural texts, and as in -sympathy with the priests of her faith who glossed -over or ignored biblical language justifying -out-worn philosophy, she was glad now of the support -of the letter of the Christian law for the great -social principal involved. Divining by intuition -what was working in the struggler's mind, and -ever on the watch to satisfy her own standard as -regards modern progressiveness of vision, she -ventured this: -</p> - -<p> -"Though the words of Christ seem far away—though -His world was very different from ours, -as perhaps you were thinking, the human needs of -to-day are a grand and unanswerable vindication -of His teachings and of the church's canon." -</p> - -<p> -Constance looked up wonderingly. Was she -dealing with a seer? -</p> - -<p> -"I was thinking that very thing, that the -Saviour's words seem so far away, perhaps He -did not anticipate such a case as mine." -</p> - -<p> -"He invites you to suffer for His sake even as -He did for yours." -</p> - -<p> -Mrs. Wilson had heard the doctrine of the -atonement criticised as outworn, and she was by no -means sure in her heart that it would survive the -processes of religious evolution; yet she felt no -scruples in proffering this cup of inspiration to a -thirsty and not altogether sophisticated spirit. -</p> - -<p> -Constance's lip trembled. "I neglected once to -heed the voice of the church. I strayed away from -Christ. When I was in trouble the church sought -me out, helped me and took me back." -</p> - -<p> -"I remember. Mr. Prentiss has told me." -</p> - -<p> -"Would Mr. Prentiss consent to marry me?" -</p> - -<p> -"He could not perform the service; he is -forbidden. You could be married only by some -clergyman of another sect, if one would consent, -or before a justice of the peace." -</p> - -<p> -It was evident from her tone that Mrs. Wilson -classed the civil ceremony with the ugly things of -life. -</p> - -<p> -"I see," said Constance. "I feared that he -would not—that he could not." She sat for some -moments with her hands clasped before her staring -at destiny. Then spurred by one of the voices of -protest she cried like one deploring an inevitable -deed, "Gordon will not understand. He will deem -that I am flying in the face of reason and sacrificing -our and the children's happiness to a delusion. -He is a sane and conscientious man. He -strives to do what is right. Is it common sense -that I must give him up?" she asked almost -fiercely. -</p> - -<p> -Mrs. Wilson recognized the cry as the fluttering -of a spirit resolved to conquer temptation. -"To satisfy common sense would not satisfy you, -Constance," she answered with gentle fervor. -"What you desire would be selfish; what the -church invites you to do for the sake of the world, -of the family, would be spiritual." -</p> - -<p> -"I wish to do what is right this time at any cost." -</p> - -<p> -As Constance spoke there was a knock, and a -moment later the rector of St. Stephen's appeared -in the doorway, a large, impressive figure. For -an instant he stood looking to right and left, -taking in the surroundings while the two women -rose to greet him, and Mrs. Wilson uttered an -eager aside to Constance: -</p> - -<p> -"Here is someone who will tell you what is right." -</p> - -<p> -Perhaps she did not intend to smother the -remark. At all events it was overheard by -Mr. Prentiss, and it suggested to him an appropriate -greeting. -</p> - -<p> -"I know of few better qualified to decide for -herself what is right than Mrs. Stuart," he -exclaimed with sonorous geniality, advancing. "I -received your letter, and here I am. I am glad -to see that another friend has been even more -prompt," he added, shaking hands with Mrs. Wilson. -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, I wrote to you both that I had been ill -because I felt sure that you would be willing to -advise with me as to my future," said Constance. -</p> - -<p> -She endeavored to take the clergyman's silk -hat, but he urbanely waved her back, and, depositing -it on the table, threw open his long coat, and -squaring himself in the chair offered him glanced -around the somewhat darkened room. -</p> - -<p> -"Well," he said, with cheery solicitude, "you -must tell me your story." -</p> - -<p> -"Let me explain, my dear," interposed Mrs. Wilson, -and thereupon she glided from her chair, -and seating herself on the sofa beside Constance, -proceeded to enlighten him. "Our young friend -has had a painful accident," she began, and in half -a dozen graphic sentences she informed Mr. Prentiss -of the details of the catastrophe and the scope -of the injury. Meanwhile she possessed herself -of Constance's hand, and from time to time -patted it softly during the narration, in the course of -which the rector on his part expressed appropriate -concern for the victim. -</p> - -<p> -"When Mrs. Stuart wrote," she continued, "it -was in order to consult us as to how she might -best earn her livelihood until such time as her -eyesight is restored. This was a pressing and -delicate consideration for the reason that she suspected -her employer of a design to invent occupation for -her relief, which under all the circumstances was -distasteful to her pride. The particular matter -of providing her with suitable means of support -I have taken upon myself, and the question is no -longer perplexing her. It has been put in the -shade by another and far more momentous problem, -the solution of which we have been discussing -for the last half hour. You come just in time to -give her the benefit of your abundant insight and -experience. Since she wrote to you an unexpected -and appealing event has come to pass. Mrs. Stuart -has received an offer of marriage from Mr. Perry, -her employer, who of course is aware that -she still has a husband living from whom she has -never been divorced." -</p> - -<p> -Mrs. Wilson designedly threw this searchlight -upon the past history of her ward in order to save -her rector from the possibility of finding himself -in the same slough into which she had slipped as a -result of inadvertence, and also to place the -precise situation before him in one vivid flash. -</p> - -<p> -Presumably what he had heard was a stirring -surprise to Mr. Prentiss, but versed in receiving -confessions he gave no sign of perturbation beyond -compressing his lips and settling himself further -back in his chair like one seeking to get his grip -on an interesting theme. When Mrs. Wilson in -bright-eyed consciousness of having sprung a -sensation waited to enjoy its effect, he nodded, as -much as to inform her that he had grasped the -facts and that she might proceed. -</p> - -<p> -She fondled Constance's hand for a little before -doing so. She wished to come to the point -directly, yet exhaustively; to avoid non-essentials, -yet to present the theme with picturesqueness. -</p> - -<p> -"This little woman's heart is deeply engaged," -she resumed. "She loves dearly the man who has -offered himself to her. His wish to make her his -wife is not only a precious compliment, but it holds -forth interesting opportunities for happiness and -advancement for her and for her two children. -He is, as you know, a man of high standing in -the community with prospects of distinction. -From the point of view of worldly blessedness the -offer is exceptionally alluring. Moreover she -would be a wife of whom he could be justly proud. -You see what I mean. I have given you, I think, -all the vital data which bear on the case." As she -paused she noticed that Constance stirred beside -her. It had not been her intention to proceed -further, but she made this clear by saying, "I leave -the rest for you, my dear." -</p> - -<p> -The next moment the rector responded with -grave, solicitous emphasis. "I believe that I -recognize precisely the circumstances with all the -inseparable perplexities and pathos." -</p> - -<p> -By an involuntary restless movement Constance -had indeed revealed her dread that Mrs. Wilson -was about to state the arguments as well as the -point at issue, and her spirit had risen in protest. -For sitting there intent on every word she had -had time to realize that a crucial moment in her -life had arrived, and that no one else however -clever could fitly express what was working in her -mind in defence of her lover's cause. When now -the desired chance to speak was afforded her there -was no hesitation; the necessary burning question -was on her lips—the one question which demanded -an unequivocal answer. -</p> - -<p> -"Mrs. Wilson has stated all the facts. I ask -you, Mr. Prentiss, to tell me truly if it is possible -for me to marry Mr. Perry without doing wrong, -without doing what you—the church—would not -have me do. I am ready to renounce this great -happiness if it would not be right in the highest -sense for me to become his wife." -</p> - -<p> -It was the rector's turn to stir uneasily. His -soul was rampant over the horrors of the divorce -evil, but his humanity was momentarily touched -by the rigor of this particular case. He, too, had -had time to think, and his opinion was already -formed. It had indeed arisen spontaneously from -the depths of his inner consciousness as the only -possible answer. Yet as a wrestler with modern -social problems he was disturbed to perceive that -this sacrifice on this petitioner's part would have -the surface effect of a hardship which, however -salutary as a tenet of Christian doctrine, was not -altogether satisfactory from the practical standpoint. -Consequently his reply was a trifle militant. -</p> - -<p> -Have you as a woman considered whether remarriage -while your husband is alive would be -consistent with the highest feminine purity? -It was a specious attack, but for a moment -Constance did not comprehend. Then when it came -over her that he was imposing chastity upon her, -and expressing surprise at her restlessness, she -lowered her eyes instinctively. That phase of the case -had occurred to her many times already. Was it -an impurity that she, with a husband living, should -love another man? Was the implied reproach -sound? Her feminine self-respect was dearer to -her than life. Yet she had not discussed the point -with Mrs. Wilson, as exploration with the -plummet of conscience of the recesses of her womanly -self had left her without a qualm. She had even -faced the repugnant possibility that, as the wife of -Gordon, she might hereafter be brought in -contact with Emil, and decided that it could not -become a controlling bugbear. Yet now when she -raised her eyes again she looked first at her -mentor. That lady had hers turned toward the -ceiling in rapt meditation, but becoming conscious -of Constance's glance, she lowered them to meet -it, and Constance gathered from their troubled -appeal that she agreed with the clergyman that -remarriage for her would be incompatible with -the highest personal delicacy and a breach of the -law of beauty. This was almost a shock, and -increased her trouble. Her reason was still -unconvinced that the objection was other than an -affectation, but the joint disapproval was a challenge to -her confidence. Still she answered with the courage -of her convictions: -</p> - -<p> -"I should like to marry because I am in love. -If my husband were dead, it would not seem -inappropriate that I should wed another." -</p> - -<p class="capcenter"> -<a id="img-350"></a> -<img class="imgcenter" src="images/img-350.jpg" alt=""I should like to marry because I am in love."" /> -<br /> -"I should like to marry because I am in love." -</p> - -<p> -"You are well provided for; you have employment -and are earning a decent livelihood. You -have friends who will see that your children do not -lack opportunities for advancement. Is not that -enough?" He paused and quoted rhetorically: -"Wherefore they are no more twain, but one -flesh." -</p> - -<p> -Constance broke the silence by completing the -passage with reverence, "What therefore God hath -joined together let not man put asunder." -</p> - -<p> -"Precisely," murmured the rector. -</p> - -<p> -Constance slipped her hand from Mrs. Wilson's -and rose to her feet. Why, she scarcely knew. -She felt the impulse to stand before her judges, -even as a petitioner at a court of final resort. -Though her heart was hungry for permission to -enter the land of promise, she already guessed -what the verdict would be. If her rector's hint -that the project ought to have jarred upon her -finer feminine instincts had left her unconvicted -before the tribunal of her own wits, it had set her -thinking. It had brought before her a retrospective -vision of the long fealty of her sex to the -voice of carnal purity, and its twin sister, woman's -long fealty to the church. She must be true to -her birthright as a woman; she must obey the -higher law whatever the cost. No happiness could -be comparable to that which obedience would -bring. Yet another thought held her, and a little -doggedly. Whatever her penitence for past error, -she had never abdicated her heritage as an American -woman—her right to the exercise of free -judgment where the interests of her soul were -concerned. Her intelligence must be satisfied before -she yielded. Yet even as she rallied her energies -for a second bout, it seemed to her that the -memory of her late forgiveness by the church stood in -the guise of an angel at the rector's side with -grieving eyes, and the charge of ingratitude on its -lips. But Constance said sturdily and carefully: -</p> - -<p> -"I have reread the Bible texts, Mr. Prentiss, -and Mrs. Wilson has explained to me that as a -priest of the Episcopal Church you could not -marry me. I understand that. What I wish you -to tell me is whether it would be a sin, a real sin, -were I to be married elsewhere. The law allows -it, only the church forbids. Has the church no -discretion, could no exception be made in a case -like mine? In this age of the world it would seem -as though justice and the demands which religion -makes on the conscience ought to tally. You -know the circumstances of my first marriage. -Because I made a dreadful mistake, is it my highest -duty to renounce this happiness as a forbidden -thing? It is for you to tell me. I must trust in -you; I cannot decide for myself. My reason -whispers to me that it would not be wrong for me to -consent, but I am prepared to put this seeming -blessing from me if by accepting it I should be -guilty of a genuine weakness, should be helping to -push society down instead of helping to maintain -the standards of the world." -</p> - -<p> -Mr. Prentiss beamed upon her with pitying, -gracious approval. Now that he had recovered -from his momentary access of temper he beheld -in a clear light the reality of the sacrifice, her -touching sincerity and his own opportunity. From -the standpoint of righteousness there was no room -in his mind for doubt or evasion; yet he felt that -it behooved him to meet this spiritual conflict with -all the tenderness of his priestly office. He had -learned to admire this lithe, dark-haired woman, -nor was her greater physical attraction lost on -him. He realized as she stood before him that -under the new dispensation she had waxed in charm -and social effectiveness; and once more she was -showing herself worthy of his enthusiasm. His -ear had noticed the felicity of her last thought, -and he was musing on the sophisticated scope -of it when Mrs. Wilson's dulcet voice broke the -silence. -</p> - -<p> -"I have made clear to Mrs. Stuart, Mr. Prentiss, -that the advanced thought of the church finds -in the words of Christ not merely an inspired -utterance concerning divorce, but the rallying cry -in behalf of a profound, practical, social reform." -</p> - -<p> -The rector bent on his ally a discerning glance -of satisfaction. He perceived gratefully that she -had made the most of her opportunities to till the -soil from which he looked for a rich harvest. -</p> - -<p> -"My dear friend," he said to Constance, "you -have put upon me a great responsibility from -which I must not shrink. But however -uncompromising my duty as a servant of Christ may -cause me to appear, believe me that my -understanding is not blind to the human distress under -which you labor. You are asked to renounce what -is for woman the greatest of temporal joys, the -love of a deserving man." He paused a moment -to mark the fervor of his sympathy. "Were I -willing to palter with the truth, and did I deem -you to be common clay unable to appreciate and -live up to it, I might say to you 'go and be -married elsewhere. It will be an offence; it will not -have the sanction of the church; but others have -done the same, and you will have the protection of -the secular law.' Although the Roman Catholic -priest has but one answer under all circumstances -however pitiful, 'who, having a husband or wife -living, marries again, cannot remain a member of -the church,' it might seem permissible to some of -my cloth not to condemn remarriage in the case of -a dense soul as a grievous sin. But such palliation -would sear my lips were I to utter it for your -relief. You have asked me what is the vital -truth—your highest Christian duty. There can be but -one answer. To respect the marriage bond and, -keeping yourself unspotted from the world, hold -to one husband for your mortal life so long as -you both do live. To yield would not be a crime -as the ignorant know crime, but it would be a -sapping carnal weakness, inconsistent with the -spiritual wisdom which has hitherto led you. It -would indeed help to lower the standards of -human society. I may not equivocate, my dear -friend. This is the ideal of the Christian Church -in respect to marriage and divorce. Invoke the -human law for your protection against your husband -if you will, but he is still your husband in the -eyes of God, and if you wed another you commit -adultery." -</p> - -<p> -Constance, seeming like a breathing statue, save -for her odd disfigurement, her arms before her at -full length, her hands folded one upon the other, -heard her sentence and love's banishment. Already -she felt the thrill of a solemn impulse to bear this -cross laid upon her, not as a cross but as a fresh -opportunity for service, yet she said: -</p> - -<p> -"Then the law of the church and the law of -the State stand opposed to each other!" She spoke -in soliloquy as it were, phrasing an existing -condition for the explanation of which her intelligence -still lacked the key. -</p> - -<p> -Mr. Prentiss drew himself up. "Yes, they stand -opposed, as in so many other instances. The law -of the State is for the weak; the law of the church—of -Christ—is for the strong. Verily the church -has been magnanimous and forbearing. It has -resigned to the State little by little control of the -social machinery. But here, where the foundations -of society are at stake, it behooves her to -stand firm. The law of spirit is at war with the -law of flesh. Monogamy is the corner-stone of -Christian civilization." -</p> - -<p> -"And hence it is that marriage is a sacrament; -that the marriage bond bears the seal of heaven," -added Mrs. Wilson ardently, as the rector, -contented with his metaphor, stopped short in his -righteous foray. -</p> - -<p> -"If my marriage was made in heaven, we were -ill-mated," retorted Constance. The thought -seemed so repugnant to her that she revolted at -it. But Mr. Prentiss, like a true physician of the -soul, was equal to the emergency. -</p> - -<p> -"The choice was yours, and you made a dreadful -mistake. Have you yourself not said so? Shall -you not pay the penalty, my daughter? You -thought you knew him whom you married." -</p> - -<p> -"Oh, yes, indeed; but I was very young." -</p> - -<p> -"May they not all say the same? And yet," -pursued the rector, in a tone of proselytizing -triumph, "the demon of divorce lurks at our firesides -and, stalking through every walk of life, makes -light of the holy tie as though it were of straw, -mocking the solemn associations of the family, and -taking from the innocent child the refining and -safe-guarding influence of a stable, unsullied home. -Yet the State stands by and winks at—aye, -connives at and promotes the foul programme, -rehabilitating shallowness and vice through the -respectable red seal of the law. Yes, there are two -standards. As a modern priest I am aware of the -sophistry of the criticism, for who, if the church -does not, will stand as the protector of the home? -And if it sometimes happens, as it must happen," -he concluded in an exalted whisper, "that the -apparent earthly happiness of one must be sacrificed -for the good of the many, I know that you are not -the woman to falter." -</p> - -<p> -"Oh, no—oh, no," answered Constance, shaking -her head. "It is a terrible condition of affairs, -is it not? I see; I understand." She resumed her -seat on the sofa and covered her face with her -hands. For a few moments there was silence. -Mrs. Wilson restrained a melting impulse to put -her arm around her ward's shoulder in pitying -encouragement. She felt that it was wiser to -wait. -</p> - -<p> -"Terrible," repeated Constance, as though she -had been dwelling on the thought, and she looked -up. Her manner was calm and sweetly determined. -"Thank you, Mr. Prentiss—thank you -both so much. There is only one thing to do—one -thing I wish to do, now that my duty has been -made entirely plain. I shall tell Mr. Perry that -though I love him I cannot marry him." -</p> - -<p> -"There is no reason that you should come to a -decision on the spot," said Mr. Prentiss, reluctant -to take undue advantage of an emotional frame -of mind. "Take time to consider the matter." -</p> - -<p> -But Constance shook her head. "That would -not help me. I have thought it out already. I -could not consent to sin, and you have explained, -to me that it would be a sin." -</p> - -<p> -"A sin surely; a carnal sin for you, Mrs. Stuart," -said the clergyman with doughty firmness. -</p> - -<p> -Constance gave a little nervous laugh—or was -it the echo of a shiver? "I had a conviction that -it could never be. It was a pleasant dream." -</p> - -<p> -The pathos of the simple utterance reawoke -Mrs. Wilson's strained sensibilities. She bent -and kissed Constance on the forehead. Then -turning to her rector she murmured with reverent -ecstasy: -</p> - -<p> -"Will you not pray with us, Mr. Prentiss?" -</p> - -<p> -It was a grateful, benignant suggestion to the -sufferer; the tonic which her yearning, baffled spirit -needed. Divining as by telepathy that the -moment had arrived for just this spiritual -communion, the clergyman set the example to the two -women by falling on his knees, and presently his -voice was raised in fervent prayer. It was the -prayer of praise and victory, not of consolation -and distress. He thanked God—as he could do -with an overflowing heart—for this triumph of -intelligent spiritual discernment over the lures of -easygoing and numbing materialism. The outcome -of the occasion was indeed for him an oasis, -one of those green, fruitful passages in the more -or less general dryness of heart-to-heart contact -with his parishioners, the occurrence of which -made him surer both of his own professional -capacity and of the eternal truths of his religion. -His invocation of his God was alike a pęan of -thanksgiving and an acknowledgment of rekindled -faith. As for Constance, his words were so many -cups of water to a thirsty soul. Scorched by his -exaltation, the cloud mists of doubt no longer -perplexed her, and she beheld with radiant eyes her -cross, her privilege to renounce what reason and -human passion urged, for the sake of an ideal—the -higher, vital needs of the human race. -</p> - -<p> -When Mr. Prentiss had finished Mrs. Wilson -did not for a moment trust herself to speak. Her -eyes were full of tears. She had knelt as close to -Constance as she felt to be harmonious. It was -a glorious hour also for her. The steadfastness -of this woman of the people was not only a subtle -personal tribute, but it had refreshed the tired -arteries of her being. When her daughter had -left her house, secure and cold in the pride of a -revolting scheme of life, it had almost seemed that -God mocked her. But now the glories of His -grace were manifest. -</p> - -<p> -"Constance," she said, "I will call for you -to-morrow, to sit in my pew. It is Sunday, you -know." -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap21"></a></p> - -<h3> -XXI -</h3> - -<p> -In saying to Constance that he had pondered -the question of their marriage from her -standpoint, Gordon Perry felt that he had given -indeed the fullest weight to every legitimate -scruple, and believed that, provided he was -beloved, there was no substance in any one of them. -He knew that Constance had shrunk from a -divorce. What more natural so long as she was -undisturbed by her deserting husband? But now -that the element of a new, strong affection was -introduced the necessary legal proceedings seemed -a paltry bar to her happiness. He had expected -that she would demur to the step at first, but he -had felt confident that her acute sense would -shortly convince her that she was divorced to all intents -and purposes already, and that the mere formal -abdication of the fact, however unpleasant -sentimentally was not a valid obstacle. He had also -appreciated that this repugnance to a legal -dissolution of the marriage tie for the purpose of -becoming a second time a wife would be accompanied -by an instinctive feminine aversion to giving her -person to another man while it was still possible -to encounter the original husband in the flesh. He -did not pride himself on his knowledge of women, -but the attitude suggested itself to him as possible, -even probable, in the case of one whose sensibilities -were so delicate as hers, for the reason that -there lingered in his mind the remembrance of -shrinking words both in books and in real life -by other women when the same topic had been -broached in the past. Consequently it was a -relief to him that Constance did not openly manifest -this form of repugnance, and he radiantly jumped -to the conclusion that her love for him was so -reciprocal and mastering that false delicacy had -been shrivelled up as in a furnace. Was not such -a process in keeping with her sterling sanity and -intelligence? For a moment he had jubilantly -assumed that all was won, since, after -conscientious if somewhat scornful analysis of the -Church's claim, he had already decided that the -pure religious objection would never in the end -avail to keep them apart. Nor did the foreboding -definiteness of her opposition discourage him -appreciably. It merely cast a damper on his -hopes for an immediate surrender, and indicated -to him that he had been premature in supposing -that she had been able to purge herself of -superstitions and conventional prejudices forthwith. It -could simply be a question of time when so human -and discerning a bride would come to his arms -without a qualm. -</p> - -<p> -Nevertheless he felt that he must convince her. -Now that he was sure she loved him, the possibility -of losing her was not even to be entertained; -but he wished her to succumb as the result of -agreement, and not in spite of herself, both -because he realized that she would not be happy -otherwise, and because the doctrine which she had -invoked as a binding obligation jarred not only -with his desires, but with his deepest opinions. -Therefore, at the conclusion of their interview, -he took up straightway the cudgels of thought in -defence of his convictions against what seemed to -him the essential injustice and unreasonableness of -the Church's claim. This necessarily involved -fresh consideration of that claim itself. That -night before he went to bed he rehearsed the -arguments by which he purposed to appeal to her. Did -she not appreciate that they were influenced by -no base motives? That neither lust nor undue -haste, nor covetous trifling with the feelings of -others tarnished their mutual passion. Theirs -was no case of putting off the old bonds of -matrimony in order to be on with the new, but one -where love had been starved to death, and been -born again by gradual and chaste processes in a -lonely, forsaken heart. What could be wrong in -such a union? And were not their own consciences -and their own intelligences the only fit judges of -the eternal merits? -</p> - -<p> -Gordon Perry's attitude toward religion—toward -churches and toward churchmen—was abstractly -respectful and friendly. He had been -brought up by his mother in her faith, and the -period of stress through which most young men -pass in early life had been productive of a frame -of mind which was reverent as well as critical. -Not a small portion of mankind in Benham accepted -their religious doctrine on trust, as they did -their drinking water. Either they were too busy -to question what seemed authority, or that particular -compartment of the brain where absorbing interest -in the unseen germinates was empty. Some -of the most pious never reasoned, and their docile -worship constituted the cement in the walls of -dogma. Again, there was a class—a growing -class in Benham as elsewhere—composed of -well-equipped, active-minded men who were polite to -Religion if they met her in the street, and would -even go to church now and again to oblige a -wife or preserve outward appearances, for they -were still of the opinion that religion is good for -the masses. But in their secret souls what did -they believe? -</p> - -<p> -Gordon belonged to still another class. Religious -truth had an absorbing interest for him, -but what was religious truth? Different -sects—and they were manifold in Benham—told him -different things, and each sect proclaimed its -doctrine insistently as vital, if not to salvation, to the -highest spiritual development. Like many a young -man before him, he argued that all could not be -right, and as a result he presently found himself a -member of that secret society of able-bodied, -able-minded male citizens—the largest class of -all—who reasoned about religious doctrine somewhat -in this way: That they were hopefully looking -forward to the time when the controversial -differences which divided the sects into rival camps -should disappear; and that until then they and -their successors, whose number was sure to be -legion, would turn deaf ears to the clashing of the -divines, and attend church in order to gain -strength and inspiration to play their parts well in -complex modern human society, ignoring all else -but the spirit of Christian love. If it be said that -they and Gordon were not strong on dogma, denied -that the laws of the universe had ever been -suspended to produce fear or admiration in man, -because to believe the contrary seemed to be an -insult to God, and looked askance at certain other -extraordinary phenomena to which the orthodox -cling, it should also be stated that they and he were -heartily in sympathy with every effort of all the -clergy to improve human nature along intelligent -lines, to help the poor to help themselves, to -prevent the rich from misappropriating the earth and -to foster truth, courage, unselfishness and -refinement in the name of religion. Therefore it -happened that Gordon was apt to take with a grain -of salt what he heard in the pulpit; and now and -then he would play golf on Sunday if he were in -need of fresh air for his soul; but although he was -slightly impatient of clerical sophistries up town, -down town he lent a ready hand in the active -reforms of the city, in the furtherance of which he -had learned to know well, and to admire as good -fellows, half a dozen energetic, enthusiastic -clergymen. Was not religion one of the great forces -of the world? Because one could not believe -everything, and revolted at mystical or puerile -superstitions, were the highest cravings of one's -nature to be allowed to atrophy? So, just as in his -social perplexities, he had sought refuge in -practical service from the conflict of theories, and on -more than one occasion he had been agreeably -surprised by the confidential admission of the divines -with whom he was co-operating that their and his -views were not essentially far apart. Gordon was -glad on their account to hear so, and was only the -more convinced as a consequence that it was difficult -to reconcile most of the strict tenets of theology -with the modern ideas of wide-awake, -enlightened laymen concerning the workings of the -universe or the best social development of the -creature man. -</p> - -<p> -Gordon made no attempt to see Constance on -the day following his proposal. Impatient as he -was to renew his suit, he concluded to let her muse -for twenty-four hours on the situation. It occurred -to him that he would ask leave to accompany -her to church on Sunday morning, but reflecting -that it would not be fair to disturb her meditations, -he decided instead to attend the service at St. Stephen's -and walk home with her after it. Whatever -the New Testament language on the subject, -would she be able to convince herself that the -sundering of such love as theirs would be in keeping -with the true spirit of Christianity? It seemed to -him that there could be but one answer to this -proposition, and as he walked along in the beautiful -bracing atmosphere of the autumn day his step -was buoyant, for he believed that his happiness -would be sealed within a few short hours. Ecstasy -ruled his thoughts. Was not the woman of -his heart an entrancing prize? Fortune and station -she had none, but far more important for him, -she was lovable and she was lovely; she was -intelligent and she was good. -</p> - -<p> -He had attended service at St. Stephen's once -or twice before, and had a bowing acquaintance -with Mr. Prentiss; but he knew well and entertained -a cordial liking for the latter's assistant, the -rector of the Church of the Redeemer, the mission -church in the squalid section of the city supported -by the larger establishment. St. Stephen's, as the -fashionable Episcopalian church of the community, -was apt to draw a large congregation, especially -when the pew owners were not confronted -by wet skies or sidewalks. This brilliant Sunday -at the beginning of the social season had drawn -most of the regular congregation and also a large -contingent of strangers—chiefly women—some of -them visitors in Benham, but the majority students -and other temporary residents who found the -ęsthetic music and devotional ritual of St. Stephen's -stimulating. Gordon, who was a little late, -obtained a seat in the gallery. It had occurred to -him that he would be more likely to catch sight of -his ladylove from this eminence than if he -remained below. His eyes sought at once the -so-called free benches where she was accustomed to -sit, but she was not in her usual place. After -repeated scrutiny of the rows of faces had convinced -him of this, he concluded dejectedly that she had -not come. Perhaps she had stayed at home -hoping he would call. Or had she been loth to -display her glasses in public before she had become -accustomed to the disfigurement? His glance -wandered over the rich flower garden of autumn -bonnets, but to no purpose. While in perplexity -he reviewed the probable causes of her absence -he became aware that the music of the processional -had ceased and that Mr. Prentiss was speaking. -Ten minutes later, when the congregation rose to -take part in the selection from the Psalms, his -glance fell on Mrs. Randolph Wilson in one of -the front pews. Her profile was almost in a line -with his vision. While he looked his heart gave -a bound, for he suddenly recognized that the -young woman next to her in the gay, attractive -bonnet was she for the sight of whom his soul was -yearning. -</p> - -<p> -After leaving Constance on the day of their -eventful interview, Mrs. Wilson had conceived -the plan of presenting her with a new bonnet and -jacket. These she brought with her to Lincoln -Chambers a little before church time, and placed -with her own hands on the surprised recipient. -Pleased at the ęsthetic progress of her ward, she -seized this opportunity to promote it, and also to -cater to her own generous instincts at a time when -to indulge them was not likely to cause offence. -Though astonished, Constance accepted without -demur these welcome additions to her toilet, and -the donor had the satisfaction of beholding how -admirably they became her. Besides, Mrs. Wilson -had on the tip of her tongue and was eager to -communicate the plan which she had been working -out since they separated, and which she imparted -to Constance as soon as they were in her brougham -on the way to church. -</p> - -<p> -"I have been carefully considering your affairs, -my dear, and, in the first place, you are to do -nothing for the next six months but get well. I -shall insist upon looking after you. You promised -me, remember." She paused as though she half -expected to encounter opposition to this project, -and, though her ward revealed no insubordination, -she added the argument which she held in reserve: -"For, having deprived you by its counsel of the -means of support, it is the Church's duty, and my -privilege as a disciple of the Church's cause, to -watch over you until you are able to provide for -yourself. At the end of the six months, when -your eyes are strong again, I wish you to become -my private secretary." -</p> - -<p> -On the way from her house she had pictured to -herself the astonishment and delight which such -an unexpected and splendid proposition must -necessarily inspire, and she could not refrain from -stealing a sidelong glance at Constance in order -to observe the effect it would have on her. -</p> - -<p> -"Your private secretary?" -</p> - -<p> -Mrs. Wilson felt rewarded by the incredulous -bewilderment conveyed by the interrogatory, and -hastened to explain her benefaction. "It seems -almost the interposition of Providence in your -behalf," she added. "Last evening—and I was -thinking of your noble resolution at the time—my -secretary came in to inform me that she was -engaged to be married, and to ask me to be on the -lookout for someone else. 'The very place for -Constance Stuart,' I said to myself at once. 'What -could suit her better? And what an admirable -arrangement it will be for me!' For, after -refusing Mr. Perry's offer, I take for granted that, -even when your eyesight is restored, the continuance -of your present business relations would be -out of the question." -</p> - -<p> -"Oh, yes; entirely so," answered Constance -with rueful promptness. "I could not continue -in his employment; we should both be unhappy." She -was making a confession of what she had been -saying to herself all the morning. -</p> - -<p> -"Exactly." Mrs. Wilson beamed over the -success of her divination. -</p> - -<p> -"Then we will consider it settled. And I wish -to tell you besides that I shall take it upon myself -to see that your boy's artistic gift is given full -opportunity for expression, and your daughter -thoroughly educated. Your salary, I mean, will be -sufficient to enable you to give them proper -advantages, for I can see that you will be very useful -to me." -</p> - -<p> -She was determined to make plain that virtue in -this case was to be its own reward, and that the -material losses in the wake of renunciation were -rapidly being eliminated. At the same time she -wished to conceal a too obviously eleemosynary -intent. -</p> - -<p> -"I don't see how anything could be nicer for -me. And if you think that I should suit—that I -could perform the duties properly—I shall be -thankful for the position," answered poor Constance. -</p> - -<p> -She had passed another sleepless night. Fixed -as was her conviction that separation from her -lover was inevitable, she felt deeply sorry for him -if not for herself, and dreaded the impending final -interview between them. Despite her spiritual -exaltation the consciousness that she was letting slip -a great chance for her children still haunted her, -in that the future by comparison seemed vague and -forbidding. For it had been clear to her from the -moment of her decision that under no consideration -could she remain in Gordon's office. Therefore, -though doubtless her friends would help her, -the struggle for a livelihood must be begun again. -</p> - -<p> -Mrs. Wilson's amazing, timely offer lifted a -great weight from her heart; by it the question of -her future employment was disposed of, and -disposed of in a way more congenial to her than any -she could have imagined possible. It did indeed -seem providential that the vacancy should have -occurred at this time, and she realized that the -certainty that her children would be protected would -nerve her for the necessary ordeal of parting, for -now there was only selfishness in her desire for -marriage. She longed for it to be over with that -she might put away once and forever this great -temptation. -</p> - -<p> -The thought that Gordon would probably come -for his answer that afternoon was uppermost in -her mind during the service; but she was in a mood -to respond to the beautiful music, and before -Mr. Prentiss gave out the text of the sermon she was -already thrilling with the joy of her sacrifice on -the altar of faith. She prayed that she might be -granted strength to renounce this seeming blessing -ungrudgingly and to close her ears to the whispers -of regret, and as she joined in the jubilant -anthem of rejoicing for a risen Lord it seemed to -her that the angel of peace brushed her forehead -with the wings of heaven's love. The text was -"Except a man be born again he shall not enter -into the kingdom of heaven." It was a sermon of -immortality and hope, and a sermon of the -triumph of the spirit over the flesh for the sake of a -Christ who had set the great example and conquered -self through suffering. It was one of Mr. Prentiss's -most happy efforts from the standpoint -of orthodoxy, graphic, eloquent, and practical. -He set no narrow limits of a creed as the arbiter -of truth, but declared that the opportunity to -choose between the path of righteousness and the -path of self-sufficiency or self-indulgence was -offered to every one in the great struggle of modern -life; that he who would follow the blessed Lord -and Master must shun as evil that which was -injurious to the highest interests of human society -and thus hateful to God. As she listened -Constance could not doubt that he had her in mind. -It seemed to her that more than once his glance -rested on her encouragingly and fondly. Her -brain was transported with ecstasy and zeal. Her -opportunity was at hand, and she would serve -Christ and mankind faithfully. -</p> - -<p> -Leaving the church under the spell of the -sermon, she became suddenly aware that her lover -was beside her and was suggesting that he escort -her home. At sight of him her chaperone, -scenting danger, led the way sedulously toward the -brougham, but in the interval Constance decided -to take him at his word. Would it not be the -simplest course to explain to him quietly on the -street that what he asked her was impossible, and -thus avoid the pain of a more intimate parting? -Therefore she made her excuses to Mrs. Wilson, -pleading the radiance of the day and her need of -fresh air. She felt so sure of herself that, though -she noticed her friend seemed disappointed, it did -not occur to her that it was from concern as to the -result of the interview until she heard a whispered -"Be firm." Constance turned a resolute face -toward her, and by a close pressure of the hand -gave the desired assurance, then as the stylish -equipage rolled away from the church door, she -stepped to Gordon's side, sadly conscious that this -was to be their last walk together. -</p> - -<p> -Three days later, in the evening, Gordon Perry -rang at the house of the Rev. George Prentiss, the -comfortable looking and architecturally pleasing -rectory in the neighborhood of St. Stephen's. A -trim maid ushered him into an ante-room where -all parochial visitors were first shown, and asked -for his name. There was a nondescript elderly -woman in black ahead of him. In his capacity -as rector of a large parish, Mr. Prentiss followed -the modern methods of other busy professional -men. An electric bell at his desk notified the -servant that the interview with the last comer was -at an end and that the next in order was to be -introduced. Gordon had not long to wait. His -remaining predecessor's stay was brief. The -rector's heartiness was almost apologetic as he strode -a pace or two forward to greet his visitor. -</p> - -<p> -"Mr. Perry, I am very glad to see you. I am -sorry that you should have been kept waiting. But -the clergy cannot afford to be unbusiness-like, can -they? We intend to live down that taunt. So my -rule is 'first come, first served.'" -</p> - -<p> -"The only proper rule, I am sure." -</p> - -<p> -It was a spacious, well-filled room, the manifest -workshop of an industrious man, but furnished -with an eye to ęsthetic appropriateness as well as -utility. Red leather chairs and lounges of goodly -proportions, two symmetrical, carved tables -covered with documents, books, and pamphlets, warm -curtains, an open wood fire, a globe, sundry busts -and framed photographs of celebrities, mainly -clerical, including a large one of Phillips Brooks -and another of Abraham Lincoln, were its -distinguishing characteristics. -</p> - -<p> -Mr. Prentiss stepped to one of the tables and -opening an oblong Japanese box drew out a -handful of cigars. -</p> - -<p> -"Will you smoke, Mr. Perry?" he asked, cheerily. -</p> - -<p> -Gordon took one, and the clergyman, who -reserved his use of tobacco for occasions when by so -doing he might hope to make clearer that he was -human, did the same. As soon as they were lit, -Mr. Prentiss with a sweep of his hand indicated -two easy chairs on either side of the fire, but after -his guest was seated he himself stood with his back -to the mantel-piece, his hands behind him, the -commanding affable figure of a good fellow. Still he -chose to show at the same time what was in his -heart at the moment coincident with his manifestations -of secular hospitality. -</p> - -<p> -"That woman who just went out has recently -buried her only son, the joy and prop of her old -age. She came to thank me for a trifling donation -I had sent her. Her courage and her trust were -beautiful to witness. These humble lives often -furnish the most eloquent testimonials of the -eternal realities." He spoke with the enthusiasm of -his calling, as a doctor or a lawyer might have set -before an acquaintance an interesting case. He -liked to feel that he was on the same footing with -the world of men as they, with respect to privileges -no less than responsibilities. For an instant he -seemed to muse on the experience, then briskly -recurring to the immediate situation said: -</p> - -<p> -"But what can I do for you, Mr. Perry? My -assistant, Mr. Starkworth, tells me that you take -an active personal interest in the social problems -of our community." -</p> - -<p> -This bland presumption of ignorance as to the -cause of his visit made Gordon smile. He could -not but suspect that it was artificial. Yet the -inquiry was by no means hypocritical; for though -Mr. Prentiss was fully conscious of his caller's -identity, and had given him a correspondingly -genial reception, he regarded the episode of the -proposed marriage as so completely closed by -Constance's decision that he did not choose to -believe that Gordon had come for the unseemly -purpose of reviving it. It seemed to him far more -probable that his advice or assistance was sought -in some humanitarian or civic cause. -</p> - -<p> -"Yes," said Gordon slowly, enjoying the -development of the opening which occurred to him, -"Mr. Starkworth and I have co-operated from -time to time, with mutual liking, I think. It is in -regard to a social problem that I have come to -consult you this evening." -</p> - -<p> -"Ah," said the rector, relieved in spite of his -belief, and thereupon he settled himself in the -other capacious easy chair and turned a cordially -attentive countenance to his guest. "You may -feel assured of my interest in anything of that -kind." -</p> - -<p> -"It concerns my own marriage," said Gordon. -</p> - -<p> -The challenge was so unmistakable, like a -gauntlet thrown at his feet, that Mr. Prentiss was -for an instant disconcerted, then irritated. But the -pleasant manner of his opponent negatived the -aroused suspicion that effrontery lurked behind this -slightly sardonic introduction, and he met the -attack with a grave but supple dignity. -</p> - -<p> -"Indeed," he said. "I shall be very glad to -hear what you have to say, Mr. Perry." -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap22"></a></p> - -<h3> -XXII -</h3> - -<p> -Gordon drew deeply several times at his -cigar, then laid it on the bronze tray for -ashes within reach, as though he felt that it might -profane his thought. -</p> - -<p> -"I come to you to-night, Mr. Prentiss, as man -to man, knowing that you wish truth and justice -to prevail, and asking you to believe that I desire -the same. We are both of us men of affairs in the -modern sense." -</p> - -<p> -The rector bowed. -</p> - -<p> -"Then you as the rector of one of the most -influential churches in the city will doubtless agree -that religion must be sane and reasonable in its -demands to-day or it will lose more followers -among the educated—and education is constantly -spreading—than it gains from the ignorant and -superstitious?" -</p> - -<p> -"Assuredly." -</p> - -<p> -"I, on my side, as a layman—whatever our -differences of precise faith and dogma—am glad to -bear witness that the present social world could do -without true religion less than ever before." -</p> - -<p> -The summary pleased Mr. Prentiss. It was -reasonable and progressive. "We are entirely in -accord there," he answered heartily. -</p> - -<p> -"As I supposed. Then it obviates the necessity -of feeling my way. With some clergymen I -should not venture to take anything unorthodox -for granted, but I believed that we should readily -find a common ground of agreement." -</p> - -<p> -The assertion was regarded by Mr. Prentiss as -a compliment. Nevertheless he perceived that it -behooved him to mark the limits of his liberality. -</p> - -<p> -"The essence of Christianity has nothing to fear -either from the higher criticism or the modern -world's lack of interest in moribund dogma. May -I not say with Paul 'but this one thing I do, -forgetting those things which are behind, and -reaching forth to those things which are before'?" -</p> - -<p> -"And from that point of view may I ask why -you have felt constrained to separate Mrs. Stuart -and me?" -</p> - -<p> -There was a brief pause. The rector had not -the remotest intention of shirking responsibility, -but he wished the precise truth to appear. -</p> - -<p> -"It was Mrs. Stuart's own decision." -</p> - -<p> -"I asked her in good faith, after an attachment -of several years, to become my wife. She loves -me fondly, as I do her. She would have married -me had you not convinced her that to do so would -be a sin." -</p> - -<p> -"I told Mrs. Stuart that from the standpoint of -her highest duty as a Christian woman, it would be -a sin. Not unpardonable sin, if finite intelligence -may venture to distinguish the grades of human -error, but conduct incompatible with the highest -spirituality—and modern spirituality, Mr. Perry." -</p> - -<p> -There was a doughty ring to the rector's tone, -betokening that he was not averse to crossing -swords with his visitor. -</p> - -<p> -"Why would it be a sin?" -</p> - -<p> -Mr. Prentiss knocked the ash from his cigar and -held up the glowing tip. "Do you not know?" he -asked, fixing his gaze squarely on his antagonist, so -that he seemed to attack instead of defend. -</p> - -<p> -"Because she has a husband living—a brute of -a husband who, after dragging her down, deserted -her shamefully; a husband whom she has ceased -to love and from whom the law of this community -would grant her a divorce." -</p> - -<p> -"Proceed." -</p> - -<p> -"Because the Church has seen fit to stigmatize -as evil that which the State sanctions in a matter -vitally affecting the earthly happiness of the human -sexes." -</p> - -<p> -Waiting briefly to make sure that the indictment -was complete, Mr. Prentiss rejoined dryly: -"You state the case accurately. My answer is that -the Church is merely inculcating the precepts of the -Saviour of mankind." -</p> - -<p> -Gordon drew a deep breath. He rejoiced in his -opportunity. -</p> - -<p> -"Mr. Prentiss," he said, "you referred just now -to the world's lack of interest in moribund dogma; -we agreed that the demands of religion to-day must -be sane and reasonable. I speak with entire -reverence, but I ask whether you honestly believe that -the few casual sentences which Christ is reported -to have uttered thousands of years ago in Palestine -in regard to man's putting away his wife -should control complicated modern human society—the -Christian civilization of to-day—so as to -preclude a pure woman like Mrs. Stuart, under the -existing circumstances, from obtaining happiness -for herself and her children by becoming my wife? -I ask you as an intelligent human being and a just -man if this is your opinion?" -</p> - -<p> -There was no hesitation on the rector's part; on -the contrary, firm alacrity. -</p> - -<p> -"It is." -</p> - -<p> -"And yet you know that a large portion of the -civilized world ignores the doctrine," answered -Gordon, curbing his disappointment. He had not -expected to encounter this stone wall. -</p> - -<p> -"I do, to its shame and detriment. The Church -is not responsible for that." -</p> - -<p> -"Then your argument rests on the letter of -Christ's words?" -</p> - -<p> -"It does and it does not." There was triumph -in the rector's voice as he laid emphasis on the -qualifying negation. He had hoped to lead his -censor to this very point. "Nor does the spiritual -objection of the woman who has refused to marry -you rest solely on that ground. She is an -intelligent person, Mr. Perry. She perceives, as I -perceive, that what you ask her to consent to do would -be evil for the human race as well as contrary to -the teachings of our Lord. There is nothing -moribund in that attitude. It is vital, timely -righteousness. Mrs. Stuart must have set this -double reason before you." -</p> - -<p> -Gordon remembered that she had. In his agitation -during their final interview, believing that -she was laboring under a neurotic delusion, he had -given little heed to her argument. Now, as a -lawyer, he perceived the ingenuity of the plea, though -he still regarded her as the victim of clerical -sophistry. Yet he made no immediate response, and -Mr. Prentiss took advantage of the opportunity -to elucidate the situation. -</p> - -<p> -"Mr. Perry, you are led away by the special -merits of your own case. I acknowledge the -hardship; I grant the pathos of the circumstances. -They present the strongest instance which could -be cited in justification of remarriage by a divorced -person. But there must be more or less innocent -victims on the altar of every great principle. The -Lord has demanded this service of His handmaid, -and, though her heart is wrung, she rejoices -in it." -</p> - -<p> -"I see," said Gordon, "and that presents the -real issue. Why should the Church usurp the -functions of the State? Why in this age of the -world should it decide what is best for the human -race in a temporal matter, and substitute an arbitrary -and inflexible ethical standard of its own for -the judgment of organized society?" -</p> - -<p> -Mr. Prentiss's nostrils dilated from the -intensity of his kindled zeal. "Why? For two -reasons. First, because the Church declines to regard -as a temporal matter an abuse which threatens the -existence of the family, the corner-stone of -Christian civilization; and second, because the State has -flagrantly neglected its duty, allowing divorce to -run riot through the nation without uniform -system or decent limitations. Is the Church to -remain tongue-tied when the stability of the holy -bond of matrimony has become dependent on the -mere whims of either party?" -</p> - -<p> -"I see the force of your position. I will answer -you categorically. As to the first reason, it seems -to me untenable. As to the second, you accused -me just now of seeing only my side. Let me -retaliate, and at the same time suggest that, though -you may seem to have a strong case, you do not -know the real facts." Gordon, having reached a -more dispassionate stage of the argument, remembered -his cigar, which he proceeded to relight. But -the rector, not accustomed to such colloquial dissent, -threw his own in the fireplace and crossed his arms. -</p> - -<p> -"Regarding your first plea in behalf of the -Church's interference that the Church does not -look on marriage as a temporal concern, let me -remind you," continued Gordon, "that marriage -is the only matter in the realm of human social -affairs where the Church undertakes to nullify by -positive ordinance the law of the State—where -there is divided authority. In all other social -affairs the law of the State is paramount. The -Church forbids abstract vices—malice, uncharitableness, -lust, selfishness, intemperance, but it does -not attempt to define these in terms of human conduct, -or to substitute canons for the secular statute -book." -</p> - -<p> -"The Church regards marriage as a sacrament." -</p> - -<p> -"The Roman Catholic and the Episcopal. If -I may say so, the attitude of both these churches -is a foreign influence." -</p> - -<p> -The clergyman drew himself up. "Foreign?" -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, foreign to native American ideas, and I -might add foreign to the claims of the first -followers of Christianity, for the early Christian -Church did not assert the right to perform the -marriage ceremony, or to regulate marriage. Its -protectorate dates from a later period. But what -I had in mind was that it is antagonistic to the -spirit both of our forefathers and their -descendants. In the early days of New England the -service of marriage was performed not by the -minister, but by the magistrate, and marriages by -clergymen were forbidden. It was the authority -of the State, the commonwealth, the considered -judgment of the community which was recognized." -</p> - -<p> -Mr. Prentiss nodded. "You are a Unitarian, -I judge." -</p> - -<p> -"I was brought up in the Unitarian faith. Like -most American men, I believe in the power of the -individual to work out his own salvation." -</p> - -<p> -"But what message have you for a world of -sinners?" asked the rector, trenchantly. -</p> - -<p> -"I appreciate the force of your criticism. I am -conscious that the weakness of Unitarianism—of -individual liberty of conscience—is its coldness, -that it does not constantly hold out to the degenerate -soul the lure of a new spiritual birth. It is -for this reason largely that your Church and the -Catholic Church have gained fresh converts in this -country and this city. Moreover, those churches -have promoted among us picturesqueness, color, -and sentiment. But, on the other hand, their -spirit is autocratic if not aristocratic, and in their -love for the pomp of the ages, in their fealty to -the so-called vested rights of civilization, they have -little sympathy with the rational, every-day -reasoning of republican democracy." -</p> - -<p> -Mr. Prentiss pursed his lips. There was no -offence in the speaker's manner or tone which -would justify a rebuke; on the contrary, they both -suggested that he was trying to speak dispassionately. -But the conclusions stirred the rector's -blood, and he tightened his folded arms. -</p> - -<p> -"You seem to forget that the spirit of Christian -philanthropy, of the loving brotherhood of -man, is the controlling emotional force in the -Episcopal—yes, in the Roman Church to-day. You -yourself are familiar, for example, with the work -of my Mr. Starkworth in the Church of the Redeemer." -</p> - -<p> -"Yes. But neither Church has compassion on -the misery of common humanity when to relieve it -would conflict with the hard and fast letter of -church law. That is where—and notably in this -matter of recognizing divorce—the other Protestant -churches, the Presbyterian, the Methodist and -the Baptist, have been more tolerant. They have -refused to insist that it is for the benefit of -mankind that, under all circumstances, men and women -unhappily married should remain in durance vile -without the possibility of escape, or, having -escaped, should be condemned by precept to celibacy -for the rest of their lives. And these are sects -whose creed is based on the essential sinfulness of -human nature." -</p> - -<p> -The rector glowered at Gordon for a moment -from under his brows. "Then where will you -draw the line?" This was Mr. Prentiss's trump -card. It expressed his utter weariness with what -he regarded as the foul system of conflicting and -irresponsible legislation, unceasingly and -scandalously availed of. -</p> - -<p> -"That brings us to your second proposition!" -exclaimed Gordon. "As to whether the State is -faithless to its duty. Have you a copy of the -public laws, Mr. Prentiss?" -</p> - -<p> -"Assuredly." The rector strode across the -room and taking down two large volumes from the -book-shelf presented them to his visitor. It -gratified him to demonstrate by this practical test the -broadness of his humanity. -</p> - -<p> -"Do you happen to know the causes for which -divorce is granted in this State?" -</p> - -<p> -Mr. Prentiss hesitated. Evidently he had no -exact information on the subject, which at this -juncture was disconcerting. "For far too many -causes; I am sure of that," he replied, stoutly. -</p> - -<p> -"I will read them to you. 'Impotence; adultery; -desertion for three years; sentence for felony -for two years; confirmed habits of intoxication; -extreme cruelty; grossly and wantonly refusing to -support wife.'" -</p> - -<p> -The rector listened alertly, hoping to be able -to pounce on some conspicuously insufficient -provision. Since this did not appear he made a -sweeping assertion. "They are all inadequate in -my opinion except unfaithfulness to the marriage -vow, and I often doubt the wisdom of making an -exception there. I am by no means sure that the -Roman Church is not right in its refusal to admit -the validity of divorce for any cause whatever." -</p> - -<p> -"But what has been the course of history since -the Roman Church promulgated its canon at the -Council of Trent more than three hundred years -ago? The cause of common sense and justice as -represented by the State has, in spite of the fierce -opposition of the clergy, won victory after victory, -until the institution of marriage has been placed -under the control of the secular law on most of the -Continent of Europe, and the right to divorce and -the right to remarry widely recognized—for instance -in France, Germany, Switzerland, Norway, -Denmark. In France it's a criminal offence for a -priest to perform the religious ceremony of -marriage until after the civil ceremony." -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, and it was France which during the days -of the revolution permitted divorce at the mere -option of either party. And there are signs that -we are rapidly imitating that same barbaric laxity -in the United States, and in this community." -</p> - -<p> -"And if it were, would it be so much more -barbarous a condition than the conservatism of the -English law of Church and State, which grants -divorce to the man whose wife has been guilty of -adultery, but withholds it from a woman unless -her husband has been guilty of cruel and abusive -treatment into the bargain?" -</p> - -<p> -The rector was touched on another sensitive -point. He put out the palm of his hand. "I fail -to see the relevancy of your comparison, -Mr. Perry. However, the American Episcopal Church -is not responsible for the flaws in the details of the -English establishment. The two are harmonious -and their aims are identical, but we do not follow -blindly." -</p> - -<p> -"Yet the American Episcopal Church follows -its English parent and the Roman Catholic in -maintaining that the woman whose husband is an -inveterate drunkard, is convicted of murder or -embezzlement, kicks and beats her shamefully, or -deserts her utterly in cold blood, is guilty of a -crime against heaven and against society if she -breaks the bond and marries again. Progressive -democracy in the person of the State is more -lenient, more merciful. It refuses to believe that one -relentless, arbitrary rule is adapted to the -exigencies of human society. It insists that each case -should be judged on its merits, and both relief -afforded and fresh happiness permitted when -justice so demands. Think of the many poor -creatures in the lower ranks condemned by your -inexorable doctrine to miserable, lonely lives, who -might otherwise be happy!" -</p> - -<p> -Mr. Prentiss's brow contracted as though he -were a little troubled by the appeal to his sympathy -with the toiling mass. "One wearies of this -ever-lasting demand for happiness in this life," he -murmured. "Was Christ happy? They are free to -disregard the authority of the Church if they see -fit," he added. "I for one should not feel justified -in refusing the communion to a divorced woman -who had remarried." -</p> - -<p> -"But the Catholic Church would and does -uniformly; and the high church party in your own -church would disapprove of your leniency. The -vital point is that both churches and you yourself -brand those who disobey as spiritually impure, or -at least inferior, a stigma which appalls the best -women. And so they are held as in a cruel vice, -so you have held her who was to be my wife." -</p> - -<p> -The reversion to the personal equation reminded -the rector that this was no academic discussion. -</p> - -<p> -"You have not answered my question yet. -Where will you draw the line? Granting for the -moment—which I by no means agree to—that -gross habits of intoxication, felony, or absolute -desertion are valid grounds for breaking the -nuptial bond, let me cite the law to you in turn, -Mr. Perry." Thereupon Mr. Prentiss stepped to the -shelves again, and running through the pages of -a book, discovered presently the data of which he -was in search. "What do you think of these -reasons?" he asked in a scorching tone. "American -grounds of divorce: 'When it shall be made to -appear, to the satisfaction and conviction of the -court, that the parties cannot live in peace and -union together, and that their welfare requires -a separation,' Utah; 'Voluntarily living separate -for one year,' Wisconsin; 'For any cause that -permanently destroys the happiness of the petitioner -and defeats the purposes of the marriage relation,' -Connecticut; 'For any cause in the discretion of the -court,' Kentucky; 'Whenever the judge who hears -the cause decrees the case to be within the reason -of the law, within the general mischief the law -intended to remedy, or within what it may be -presumed would have been provided against by the -legislature establishing the foregoing cause of -divorce, had it foreseen the specific case and found -language to meet it without including cases not -within the same reason, he shall grant the divorce,' -Arizona; and in a host of States, 'One year's -absence without reasonable cause.'" -</p> - -<p> -"I told you that you seemed to have a good -case," said Gordon, smiling. "But I do not think -that you understand the facts, understand the real -nature of the abuse, for I heartily agree that an -abuse exists even from the standpoint of those who -maintain that divorce should be granted on the -slenderest grounds. As to the extracts which you -have just read, I judge that the book is not a -recent publication." -</p> - -<p> -"I have reason to believe that it is authoritative." -</p> - -<p> -"Undoubtedly it was so at the time. But several -of the provisions in question have been repealed -and are no longer law." -</p> - -<p> -"Ah," said the rector. "But you cannot deny -that it is still the law that a man and woman may -be married in one jurisdiction and adjudged guilty -of adultery or bigamy in another; that the -marriage tie is broken daily on the most frivolous -grounds and with the most indecent haste; and -that there is wide and revolting discrepancy -between the statutes of the several United States." -</p> - -<p> -Gordon nodded. "I cannot deny the substantial -accuracy of the indictment." -</p> - -<p> -"Well, sir, how do you justify it? Is not civil -society neglecting its duty?" -</p> - -<p> -"I do not justify the defects in some of the legal -machinery, and to this extent I agree that society -is derelict. But what I wish to make clear is that -nearly all the legal grounds for divorce in the -several states are just and reasonable—substantially -the same as in this State—and that the -abuses against which they afford relief are such -as render the relation of husband and wife -intolerable. There are a few vague and lax -exceptions such as you have cited, but they are fast -disappearing. The real and the salient evil lies -in the looseness of administration sanctioned in -some jurisdictions, by means of which collusive -divorces are obtained by pretended residents, and -close scrutiny of the facts is avoided by the -courts. To permit legal domicile to be acquired -by a residence of three months, as in Dakota, is a -flagrant invitation to fraud; but that and kindred -abuses are defects in the police power, and have -only a collateral bearing on the main issue between -us, which is whether democracy can ever be induced -to reconsider its decision that it is for the -best interests of human nature that the innocent -wife or husband, to whom a cruel wrong has been -done, should be free to break the bond and marry -again. There is the real question, Mr. Prentiss. -You as a churchman—a foreign churchman I still -claim—demand that the woman whose life has -been blighted by a husband's brutality, sentenced -for heinous crime, abandonment, or degrading -abuse of liquor should remain his wife to the end, -though he has killed every spark of love in her -soul. The Church will never be able to convince -the American people or modern democracy that -this is spiritual or just." -</p> - -<p> -"And yet a man who has been prohibited by the -courts of New York from marrying again has -merely to step into New Jersey and his marriage -there will be recognized and upheld by the courts -of New York. But that you will probably describe -as another instance of defect in the police -power. The line which you draw is evidently that -which any particular body of people—sovereign -states I believe they call them—sees fit to -establish. The logical outcome of such a theory can -only be social chaos. The sanctity of the home -is fundamentally imperilled thereby." -</p> - -<p> -"And yet," said Gordon, "the family life of the -American people compares favorably with that of -any nation in affection, morality, and happiness. -More than three-fourths of the applicants for -divorce in the United States are women. They have -thrown off the yoke of docile suffering which the -convention of the centuries has fastened upon -them." -</p> - -<p> -"Some of them," interposed the rector with -spirited incisiveness. "The shallow, the self-indulgent, -the indelicate, the earthly minded. There -are many who are still true to the behests of the -spirit," he added significantly. It was doubtless -an agreeable reflection to him that the one woman -in the world for his antagonist was among the -faithful. -</p> - -<p> -"On the contrary, I believe that their number -is made up largely of the intelligent, the earnest, -and the vitally endowed. Democracy maintains -that it is no worse for children to be educated -where love or legal freedom exists than where -there is thinly concealed hate, contempt, or -indifference." -</p> - -<p> -It was obvious that neither had been or would -be convinced by the other's argument. Probably -each had been well aware of this from the first. -Gordon had come warm with what he regarded -as the unwarranted injustice of the clergyman's -successful interference, unable to credit the belief -that it would not be withdrawn when the case was -coolly laid before him. On his part Mr. Prentiss -had listened indulgently, certain of the deep-rooted -quality of his convictions, but willing to hear the -opposite side stated by a trained antagonist. He -had been glad of an opportunity to elucidate the -Church's attitude, and had not been without hopes -of making cogent to this censor of different faith -the civilizing righteousness of the ecclesiastical -stand, or at any rate—which would be in the line -of progress—the demoralizing insufficiency of the -current secular reasons for divorce. Apparently -he had failed in both, and moreover had encountered -a disposition toward obnoxious radicalism -which was disturbing. -</p> - -<p> -"Then I am to presume that you, and so far -as you are at liberty to speak for them, the -American people" (Mr. Prentiss could be subtly biting -when the occasion demanded), "sanction practically -indiscriminate divorce?" -</p> - -<p> -Gordon disregarded the sarcastic note. The -bare question itself was sufficiently interesting. -</p> - -<p> -"It is true, as you suggested just now, that the -American people have gone further in that direction -than any other except the French. In France, -after the latitude of optional divorce palled, -divorce was abolished and was never authorized -again, as you may remember, until very recently—1884. -In the exuberance of our enthusiasm for -personal liberty the legislators in some of our -states—especially those of the most recent origin, -have shown an inclination to pass laws which -justify your conclusion. But there is at present a -reaction. The people have become disgusted with -the licentious shuffling on and off of the marriage -tie by the profligate element of the fashionable -rich through temporary residence and collusive -proceedings in other states. You and I have a -recent flagrant instance in this city in mind. Every -good citizen abhors such behavior, Mr. Prentiss. -But the public conscience has become aroused, and -steps are being taken to reform what I termed -the defects in the police power, partly by amendment -of the loose provisions by some of the offending -states, and partly by provisions in other states, -challenging the jurisdictional validity of foreign -divorces granted to their own citizens on paltry -grounds. It is a misfortune that a national divorce -law is only among the remote possibilities. And -yet, can there be any doubt that any uniform law -which the American people would consent to adopt -would necessarily include every one of the grounds -already law in this State, and which the Church -labels as inadequate?" -</p> - -<p> -Mr. Prentiss twisted in his chair. "If the -Church were satisfied that the State was sincere, -a reasonable compromise might not be impossible. -Some of our thoughtful clergy have been feeling -their way toward this." -</p> - -<p> -Gordon shook his head. "But even your Church -would yield so little; and the Roman Catholic -nothing at all. Would you consent to divorce for -gross drunkenness or conviction for felony?" -</p> - -<p> -"If so, what becomes of the spiritual obligation -that one takes the other for better or for worse? -Shall a woman desert her husband in misery? Is -long-suffering devotion to become antiquated?" -</p> - -<p> -"As an obligation, yes. If she loves him still, -she will cling to him. But if their natures are -totally at variance, if she has been cruelly wronged -and disappointed by his conduct, she should have -the right to leave him and to wed again. The -world of men and women has ceased to believe -that individual happiness should be sacrificed until -death to the cruel or degenerate vices of another." -</p> - -<p> -"The doctrine of selfish individualism," murmured -the rector. -</p> - -<p> -"Mrs. Stuart informed me that you made that -cry the basis of your objection. I agree with you -that individualism has in many directions been -given too free scope, and that modern social -science is right in demanding that it should be -curbed for the common good. But only when it -is for the common good, Mr. Prentiss. Divorce -and remarriage are in many instances necessary -for the welfare of humanity, for the protection -and relief of the suffering and virtuous and the -joyous refreshment of maimed, tired lives." -</p> - -<p> -"And how liable they are to become tired with -such easy avenues of escape!" Mr. Prentiss -hastened to exclaim. "So long as remarriage is -stigmatized as a lapse from spiritual grace, young -couples will be patient and long-suffering. The -truest love is often the fruit of mutual forbearance -during the early years of wedlock. It is only -one step from what you demand to divorce for -general incompatibility. I have yet to hear you -disclaim belief that this would be for the common -good, Mr. Perry." Mr. Prentiss rolled out the -phrase "general incompatibility" with fierce gusto, -as though he were scornfully revelling in its felicity -as an epitome of his opponent's theory carried -to its logical conclusion. He had been sparring -for wind, waiting for an opening as it were, and -feeling that he had found it, he forced the fighting. -</p> - -<p> -"It is difficult to forecast what is to be the future -evolution of the divorce problem," answered Gordon, -reflectively. "On one side is the security of -the home, as you have indicated, on the other the -claims of justice and happiness. Just now respectable -society stands a little aghast—and no wonder—at -the scandalous lack of reverence for the marriage -tie shown by our new plutocracy——" -</p> - -<p> -"Godless people!" interjected the rector. -</p> - -<p> -"And will doubtless mend its fences for the -time being so as to refuse divorce except for -genuine tangible wrongs, such as those we have -discussed. But if you ask me whether I believe that -in the end general incompatibility—meaning -thereby total lack of sympathy between husband and -wife—will be recognized by human society as a -valid and beneficial ground, my answer is that the -social drift is that way. It will depend on the -attitude of the women. They constitute by far the -majority of the applicants for divorce, as you -know. If they become convinced that it will not -be for the welfare and happiness of themselves -and their children to remain tied to men utterly -uncongenial, the State probably will give them -their liberty. But one thing is certain," he added, -"the Church will never be able to fasten again -upon the world its arbitrary standard." -</p> - -<p> -Gordon rose as he finished. He felt that the -interview was at an end, a drawn battle so far as -change of opinion was concerned. But he had -chosen to complete his bird's-eye glimpse of the -possible future with a definite and pointed prediction. -</p> - -<p> -Mr. Prentiss had listened with astonishment to -the speculative suggestion. He had expected a -disavowal of the license embodied in his taunt, and -a floundering attempt at limitation which he hoped -would involve his adversary in an intellectual -quicksand. Up to this point he had fancied -Gordon, though he had disagreed with him. But now, -as he also rose, he manifested a shade of haughtiness, -as though he were dismissing someone who -had come perilously near landing himself outside -the pale of the respect which one man owes -another of the same class. Ignoring the assertion -as to the decay of the Church's power, he said: -</p> - -<p> -"Such an evolution as you predict, sir, would -undermine the structure of human society." -</p> - -<p> -"It would be more or less revolutionary, -certainly," answered Gordon, blandly. The -possibility seemed not to have proper terrors for him, -which was puzzling to the clergyman, who was -loth to regard this well-appearing young man as -a sympathizer with radical social doctrines. He -stared at Gordon a moment. -</p> - -<p> -"So long as women are as pure and spiritual -minded as Mrs. Stuart the laxity which you seem -to invite will be out of the question." -</p> - -<p> -Here was an unequivocal reminder to Gordon -of the real fruitlessness of his interview. It was -in effect a challenge; and he accepted it as such. -</p> - -<p> -"She will yet become my wife." -</p> - -<p> -Mr. Prentiss shook his head. "I have known -her longer than you," he asserted proudly. -</p> - -<p> -For a moment there was silence. Issue had -been joined in these two sentences, and further -speech was superfluous. It was Gordon who -relieved the tension, which seemed almost hostile, -by putting out his hand. -</p> - -<p> -"Mr. Prentiss," he said, "we disagree utterly, -but that is no reason surely why we should not part -with amicable respect for each other's differences -of opinion? I know you are actuated solely by -the desire to accomplish what you believe to be -right." -</p> - -<p> -The manly appeal was instantly reciprocated. -The clergyman grasped the outstretched hand and -shook it firmly. To agree to disagree gracefully -was in keeping with his theories as to the proper -attitude of men of affairs. -</p> - -<p> -"Mr. Perry," he said, "I am glad to have made -your acquaintance. Believe me, I grieve that the -church in my person must stand between you and -happiness. If any matter at any time arises where -you think I could be of public service, do not -hesitate to consult me. I am well aware that we -both are laborers in the same vineyard." -</p> - -<p> -Considering that their theological views were -nearly as divergent as the poles, and that they -were battling for a woman's soul, this was -eminently conciliatory and rational on either side. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap23"></a></p> - -<h3> -XXIII -</h3> - -<p> -The parting with Gordon had been exceedingly -painful for Constance, but she had -not wavered. The circumstance that they were -in the street had been a serviceable protection, for -it forced upon the interview a restraint which must -have been lacking had they been indoors. She -was enabled to keep her lover at bay, and to meet -his protestations of devotion and dismay with the -answer that she had made up her mind. At the -outset she had explained to him in a few words -that she had become convinced that marriage -would be inconsistent with her highest spiritual -duty and hence must be renounced. Her responses -to his arguments and impetuous questions were -brief and substantially a repetition of her plea -that it was incumbent on them for the good of -civilization to stifle their love. He did most of -the talking, she listened, and under the influence -of her resolution rebuffed him gently from time -to time, trying to make plain to him that -separation was inevitable. When they had reached -Lincoln Chambers she felt it advisable for both their -sakes that he should not enter, but that they should -part with as little excitement as possible. Of what -avail an emotional scene such as would be sure to -take place were she to let him in? So she had -bidden him good-by then and there, informing him -that she was to become Mrs. Wilson's secretary. -She had permitted herself finally one last hand -clasp and the luxury of saying, "May God bless -you, Gordon. You have been the truest friend -a woman ever had. I wish you might be more. -Good-by." Then she had fled, leaving him standing -aghast and still refusing to believe that she -could be in earnest. -</p> - -<p> -After she was alone she was free to weep, and -weep she did, divining, perhaps, that the surest -way to drown her grief was to let sorrow have -sway for the moment. When she faced life on the -morrow, quiet and resolute, she could not help -thinking of the Catholic Sisters of Charity whom -she was in the habit of seeing on the street, whose -faces so constantly suggested that they had -dispensed with earthly happiness. But her elastic -nature demanded that she should seek earthly -happiness still, and she found herself protesting -against the thought that her renunciation might -sadden the remainder of her life. Was not her -sacrifice for the welfare of society? If so, it -behooved her to behold in it a real blessing over -which she should rejoice. If it were not a cause -for congratulation, a real escape from evil, she -was simply worshipping a fetich as Gordon had -declared. It was no case of preference for -spiritual over mundane things, but of a choice of what -was best for her as a human being. Hence she -ought to find fresh zest in life itself, not wait for -future rewards. -</p> - -<p> -So she sought to deaden her senses to every -thought or memory of Gordon, and to take up her -new life as a quickening privilege. The first thing -to do was to regain the complete use of her eyes, -and for this patient idleness during several months -would be necessary. -</p> - -<p> -Therefore, without demur, she lived up to her -promise to Mrs. Wilson by accepting the funds -necessary for her support until such time as she should -be able to assume the full duties of her position. -Mrs. Wilson made this easier for her by sending -her to investigate diverse philanthropic and -sociological appeals and employing her on a variety of -errands. The present secretary had agreed to -remain until Constance could take her place, and was -glad to delegate such duties as the latter could -perform. Accordingly Constance reported daily -for instructions and had the run of the office -appropriated to the secretary's use, a pretty room -furnished with a convenient but artistic desk, a -typewriter and all the paraphernalia for the -despatch of a large correspondence. She longed -for the day to arrive when this room would be -hers, and she could devote herself unreservedly -to the furtherance of Mrs. Wilson's wide interests. -</p> - -<p> -One evening, some fortnight after the parting -between Constance and Gordon, Loretta came -bouncing into Constance's apartment. She had -been employed in one place as a nurse during that -period, but had completed her engagement the day -before. She appeared to be in good spirits, and -Constance noticed that she had on a new hat and -jacket more gaudy than was her custom, as -though she had spent her earnings promptly and -freely. Moreover she looked knowing. The -cause of this last manifestation was disclosed -when, after a few preliminary greetings, she exclaimed: -</p> - -<p> -"And so you've left Gordon Perry, Esq., -Counsellor-at-Law!" -</p> - -<p> -"Yes. It wouldn't have been fair to Mr. Perry -to ask him to wait. Besides, Mrs. Wilson has -invited me to become her private secretary. Miss -Perkins is going to be married." -</p> - -<p> -Loretta cocked her head on one side and winked -an eye. She appeared amused by this plausible -explanation, which apparently was not news to her. -</p> - -<p> -"I guess somebody else is going to be married -too." -</p> - -<p> -Constance felt uncomfortable; she scented -mischief. But there was nothing to do but look -innocent. -</p> - -<p> -"A little bird told me to-day that you had only -to nod your head to become Mrs. Gordon Perry, -Esq." Enjoying the look of confusion which this -bold sally evoked, Loretta approached Constance -and peered mockingly into her face. -</p> - -<p> -"It's so, isn't it? You're engaged and you can't -deny it. I knew it!" -</p> - -<p> -"Nothing of the kind, Loretta," she managed -to articulate with decision. -</p> - -<p> -The little bird was evidently Mrs. Harrity. But -the charwoman's gossip could only have been -conjecture, and of course her inquisitor knew nothing -definite. -</p> - -<p> -"Well, it's your own fault if it isn't. From -what I hear he's just crazy to get you." Loretta -paused a moment; she was ferreting for information. -She seized Constance by the shoulders -and fixed her again with her shrewd gaze. "You -can't fool me, Constance Stuart. There's something -in the wind. I shan't rest until I find out." -</p> - -<p> -Constance noticed that her cheeks were slightly -flushed, and her eyes unnaturally bright. Could -she have been drinking? Surely not, or her breath -would have betrayed her. Doubtless it was only -the excitement of deviltry awakened by feminine -curiosity. Then it occurred to Constance to tell -her. Was it not best to tell her? Loretta would -make her life miserable, so she had intimated, if -she concealed the truth. And then again, as she -was sacrificing her love for a principle, why conceal -from this other struggler the vital conclusion she -had reached? It might help, or at least stimulate -Loretta. She shrank from disclosing her precious -secret, but now that she was interrogated, was it -not the simplest, the most straightforward course -to confess what had happened and explain her -reason? -</p> - -<p> -"Sit down, Loretta, and I will tell you." -</p> - -<p> -The girl obeyed, surveying her with an exultant -mien. Constance hesitated a moment. It was not -easy to begin. "Mr. Perry and I have talked -things over. Yes, Loretta, he did ask me to marry -him." -</p> - -<p> -Loretta uttered what resembled a whoop of -triumph, partly to celebrate her own perspicacity, -partly by way of congratulation. "I felt sure of -it. I knew he loved you by the way he was carrying on." -</p> - -<p> -"And I loved him, but I'm not going to marry -him. We are to see no more of each other for the -present. It would be wrong for me to become his -wife." -</p> - -<p> -Loretta stared as though she could not believe -her ears. "Wrong? Who says so? You don't -mean to tell me you've refused him?" -</p> - -<p> -"Yes," said Constance a little sadly, for the -genuineness of the surprise expressed recalled her -own perplexity in discerning an adequate reason -for the sacrifice. -</p> - -<p> -Loretta gasped. "Well, you are a fool, and no -mistake! Refuse a man like that who's crazy to -marry you and whom you love! Wrong? What's -wrong about it?" -</p> - -<p class="capcenter"> -<a id="img-400"></a> -<img class="imgcenter" src="images/img-400.jpg" alt=""Refuse a man like that who's crazy to marry you!"" /> -<br /> -"Refuse a man like that who's crazy to marry you!" -</p> - -<p> -"It's contrary to the law of my church, which -forbids a woman who has a husband living from -marrying again." -</p> - -<p> -"But he's as good as dead so far as you're -concerned," interjected Loretta. -</p> - -<p> -Without heeding this pertinent remark Constance -proceeded to state the so-called spiritual -objections with succinct fervor. She felt the desire -to reiterate aloud their complete potency. -</p> - -<p> -Loretta listened closely, but with obvious -bewilderment and disdain. Even now she seemed -unable to credit her companion's announcement as -genuine. -</p> - -<p> -"If your clergyman won't marry you, get a -justice of the peace. That's just as good." -</p> - -<p> -Constance shook her head. "From my point -of view remarriage would be sinful—impure." -</p> - -<p> -Loretta leaned back on the lounge where she -was sitting and clasped her hands behind her head. -She appeared to be at a loss to find words to -express her feelings. -</p> - -<p> -"And you mean to tell me that you've let that -man go—the man you love and who'd give you -a fine home and be a fond husband to you—for -such a reason as that?" -</p> - -<p> -"Yes," answered Constance, stanchly. -</p> - -<p> -"Then all I can say is you didn't deserve such -luck. He's too good for you." -</p> - -<p> -Loretta's conviction went so deep that she had -become grave, and, so to speak, dignified in her -language. -</p> - -<p> -"He's too good for any woman I know," Constance -felt impelled to assert. "But for both our -sakes, all the same, it was my duty not to marry -him. Mr. Perry knows my reasons and—and -respects them." -</p> - -<p> -Constance had wondered many times what her -lover's present emotions were, but she chose to -take no less than this for granted. -</p> - -<p> -"If he loves you as much as I guess he does, -he must just hate you, Constance Stuart. My! -Think of throwing up a chance like that." Then -suddenly a thought occurred to Loretta, and -leaning forward she asked tensely, "Does <i>she</i> -know?" -</p> - -<p> -The suggestion of resentment on Gordon's part -had been to Constance like a dash of scalding -water. The question just put served as a restorative. -</p> - -<p> -"Mrs. Wilson? It was she who advised me to -let him go. She agrees with me entirely." -</p> - -<p> -Loretta looked astonished and disappointed; -then she frowned. -</p> - -<p> -"Just because you've been married once? Not -if you got a divorce?" -</p> - -<p> -"Never, so long as my husband is alive and we -are liable to meet in the flesh." -</p> - -<p> -Constance realized that her phraseology had a -clerical sound; still she felt that she had a right to -the entire arsenal of the church. -</p> - -<p> -"And she believes that too, does she? Believes -that it would be wicked for a good looking, -hard-working girl, whose husband had left her in the -lurch, and may be dead for all she knows or cares, -to get a divorce and marry again? And that's -the Church? My! but it's the crankiest thing I -ever heard. That's the sort of thing which sets -the common folk who use their wits against -religion. There's no sense in it. She's a widow; -would she refuse to marry again if the right man -came along?" -</p> - -<p> -"That's different," said Constance, perceiving -that an answer was expected. -</p> - -<p> -"And what's the difference? It's all right to -be spliced to another man in three months after -the breath is out of the first one's body, as some of -them do, but impure to marry again so long as -the husband who has dragged you round by the -hair of your head is liable to drop in. If it comes -to that, and marriages are made in heaven, as the -clergy say, what do the dead husbands and wives -think about second marriages anyway? I'd be -real jealous if I were dead." -</p> - -<p> -"The Church has thought it all out and come -to the conclusion that it is the best rule for human -society." -</p> - -<p> -Constance spoke with hurried emphasis, hoping -to terminate the discussion. She did not desire -to argue the matter with Loretta; at the same time -she recognized the familiar pertinency of the -allusions to dead husbands and wives. -</p> - -<p> -Loretta detected Constance's nervous agitation. -"I hate to think it of her," she cried with sudden -illumination, "but I believe she has badgered you -into it!" -</p> - -<p> -"Nothing of the kind, Loretta. It's my own -free choice. Mrs. Wilson simply made clear to -me the Church's side." -</p> - -<p> -Loretta sneered. "It's downright cruel, that's -what I call it. The Church's side! The Church -doesn't recognize divorce, but there's always been -ways for the rich—the folk with pull, kings and -such—to get the marriages they were tired of -pronounced void from the beginning. It was only -necessary to show that they had been god-parents -to the same child, or were twenty-fifth cousins by -affinity, as it's called, or some such tomfoolery. -It didn't take Napoleon long when he wished to -get rid of Josephine to induce the Catholic Church -to declare that they never had been married, -though it was a good church wedding before a -cardinal. Pshaw! The Church has fooled the -people long enough. What we want is justice and -common sense." -</p> - -<p> -That same cry for justice, that same appeal to -common sense; and from what very different lips! -Yet though Constance shrank from the coarseness -of the exposition, somehow the naked saliency of -the argument was more persuasive than Gordon's -subtler plea. Her instinctive compassion for the -masses asserted itself. The fact that Loretta -should have touched at once the crucial point which -Gordon's trained intelligence had emphasized -struck her forcibly. And after all, what was she -herself but one of the common people? But she -said: -</p> - -<p> -"The scandal in Mrs. Wilson's own family has -been the greatest grief and mortification to her." -</p> - -<p> -Loretta bridled. "Yes, and when Mrs. Waldo -gets her divorce in South Dakota and comes back -married again, won't everybody she cares about -receive her just the same? In six months she'll be -staying in Benham and her mother'll be inviting -all the other multi-millionaires to meet her at a -big blow-out; see if she don't." She paused, and -her eyes took on a crafty look. "What do you -suppose she'd say if I were to go back to my man?" -</p> - -<p> -Constance sat bolt upright from apprehension. -Loretta's air of mystery, which was accentuated -by a whispering tone, conveyed to her the true -import of the intimation. Yet she would not seem -to understand. -</p> - -<p> -"What do you mean, Loretta?" -</p> - -<p> -"My man; the father of my child. He was in -town the other day. He has found out where I -am and has been plaguing me to go back to him." -</p> - -<p> -"Did he ask you to marry him?" asked Constance, -seeking that solution. -</p> - -<p> -"That's not what he meant. But I've thought of -that too—on baby's account. I guess he would if -I were set on it. But we're both doing well single, -and—" She stopped and laughed sarcastically—"and -supposing we didn't like each other and got -divorced, I could never marry anyone else." -</p> - -<p> -"No matter about that now, Loretta. Do you -love him still?" -</p> - -<p> -"It's love that makes the world go round. -There isn't much else worth living for, I guess." She -pursed her lips after this enigmatical answer, -then suddenly relaxed them in an impetuous -outburst. "One thing's sure, Constance Stuart, you -don't know what love is or you'd never have sent -away Gordon Perry, Esq., Counsellor-at-Law." -</p> - -<p> -"Don't, Loretta," said Constance, imploringly. -</p> - -<p> -"It's true." -</p> - -<p> -"I love him with all my heart. You don't -understand." -</p> - -<p> -"Pish! If you'd loved him as a woman loves -a man when she does love him, you'd have been -married before this. Why, there's times when I -feel like going right back to my man, and I'm -not what you'd call more than moderately fond -of him. If it hadn't been that I didn't want to -disappoint her—and you—I'd have done it before -this. Now the next time he comes back, I -shouldn't wonder if I did." She leaned back again -on the sofa with her hands behind her head -nodding doggedly, and nursing her intention. -</p> - -<p> -Constance, appalled, went over and sat down -beside her. "Oh, but you mustn't, you mustn't! -Go to-morrow to see Mrs. Wilson and talk with -her. She will give you strength and convince you -that unless you marry him such a course would be -suicide, a cruel wrong to yourself, dear—you who -have done so well." -</p> - -<p> -"I've kept straight chiefly to suit her; but I -don't like what she has done to you." -</p> - -<p> -"Please leave me and my affairs out of the question, -Loretta. They have nothing to do with your -preserving your own self-respect." -</p> - -<p> -"I don't know about that. If she's just like -the rest; if that's a sample of the religion and the -beauty she prides herself on, I've been fooled, -you've been fooled. What's the use of being -respectable if, when true love does come, a poor, -deserted woman is robbed of it for such a reason -as that?" -</p> - -<p> -It surprised Constance that Loretta should take -sides so strongly, and she perceived that the girl -must have a tenderer feeling for her than she had -supposed. This made her all the more anxious to -protect her. -</p> - -<p> -"I value your sympathy very much, dear, but -it won't help me—it'll only make me dreadfully -unhappy if you do wrong." -</p> - -<p> -Loretta looked at her keenly. Then she took -out a small phial, similar to that which Constance -had observed on another occasion, and swallowed -a pellet ostentatiously. -</p> - -<p> -"If you are troubled with the blues these are -the things to take. They brace one splendid." -</p> - -<p> -"What are they, Loretta?" -</p> - -<p> -"If you promise to take some right along, I'll -tell you." But she evidently was not eager to -disclose her secret, for she promptly replaced the -phial in her pocket and said, "I'll make a bargain -with you, Constance. If you'll marry Gordon -Perry, Esq., Counsellor-at-Law, I'll keep straight." -</p> - -<p> -Constance flushed. "But I can't, dear. It's all -settled." -</p> - -<p> -"He will come back if you only whistle. You -know that." -</p> - -<p> -Constance let her eyes fall. She feared that it -was too true. But she could not afford to be -pensive. She must be both resolute and resourceful, -for the future of this erring sister seemed to be -hanging in the balance. -</p> - -<p> -"I can never marry Mr. Perry, Loretta. But——" -</p> - -<p> -"I thought better things of you, Constance. -Oh! well then I'll go back to my man." -</p> - -<p> -"If you should do such a thing it would break -Mrs. Wilson's heart." -</p> - -<p> -This seemed to Constance in her perplexity the -most hopeful appeal, and she was right, for -Loretta was obviously impressed by the remark. -</p> - -<p> -"Would it?" she asked. She looked down at -her large hands and let them rise and fall in her -lap like one nervously touched by sentiment. -</p> - -<p> -"I do not know of anything which would -distress her more," continued Constance. -</p> - -<p> -After a moment Loretta said, "He's away now. -He won't be on this route again for another four -months. So there isn't any danger just yet." She -shrugged her shoulders. Then she rose, adding, -"I guess I'll go to bed," which was plainly -an intimation that this was to be the limit of her -present concession. -</p> - -<p> -Constance was relieved, not only that immediate -danger was averted, but that the tie which bound -Loretta to Mrs. Wilson, however temporarily -strained, was still strong and compelling. She -rejoiced to think that they were warned, so that -they could now keep a closer watch and leave -nothing undone to save her from further -degeneration. She dismissed the subject by making -some inquiries in regard to Loretta's last case. -The girl's responses were to the point and brisk, -but she did not resume her seat, and evidently had -no intention of remaining. Presently she got as -far as the door, where she stood discussing for a -few moments with her hand on the knob. When -at last she opened it and was in the act of departing, -she turned her head and uttered this parting -shot, which indicated what was still uppermost in -her thoughts: -</p> - -<p> -"I guess that you never really loved Gordon -Perry, Esq., Counsellor-at-Law, or you couldn't -have done it." -</p> - -<p> -This taunt lingered in Constance's mind, though -she denied the impeachment to herself. Was it not -indeed true, as Loretta said, that it is love which -makes the world go round? Only for the sake -of righteousness was she justified as a healthy, -breathing woman in stifling this instinct. If -Loretta in the future were to marry some one other than -the father of her child both the Church and -Mrs. Wilson would rejoice because the mere ceremony -of marriage had been lacking in the first relation; -yet she herself was forbidden to marry the man -she loved because she was tied to a faithless -husband by the mere husk of marriage. -</p> - -<p> -She saw Loretta but two or three times before -her convalescence was complete and she had -assumed her duties as Mrs. Wilson's secretary, for -Loretta was sent for again shortly, and was only -at home in the interval between her engagements. -But Constance gave Mrs. Wilson forthwith an -inkling of Loretta's state of mind, though she -tried to believe that the girl's wanton threat was -a mere passing ebullition due to resentment of her -reason for refusing Gordon. Nevertheless she did -not altogether like the expression of her eyes; it -suggested excitement, and predominance of that -boldness which, though typical, had been much in -abeyance during the period of her regeneration. -She remembered, too, the bottle of pellets, which -indicated that she was taking some drug. So, -though she could not believe that she was seriously -considering such an abhorrent proceeding, she felt -it her duty to put Mrs. Wilson on her guard. -They both agreed, however, that the culprit must -be handled gingerly and not too much made -of the occurrence. Accordingly Mrs. Wilson -straightway wrote to Loretta, but her letter was a -missive of interest and encouragement, not of -reproach or alarm. She deplored in it that she had -lately seen but little of her ward, owing to the -latter's popularity as a nurse, and urged her to -call on her at the first opportunity. She sent her -also one or two pretty toilet articles for herself -and some new frocks for her baby. Constance -said nothing, however, to Mrs. Wilson as to -Loretta's attitude toward the church regarding -remarriage after divorce, for she could not bear -to renew the subject with her patroness. It was -settled forever, and her spirit craved peace. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap24"></a></p> - -<h3> -XXIV -</h3> - -<p> -It was a great relief to Constance when at last -she was once more self-supporting. Her -eyes appeared to be as strong as ever, and she -found her new work congenial and absorbing. -She was not merely Mrs. Wilson's stenographer, -but her factotum, expected to exercise a general -superintendence over her employer's philanthropic -and social concerns, to attend to details, and, -through tactful personal interviews, to act as a -domestic buffer. The change from the practical -severity of a law office, with its dusty shelves of -volumes uniformly bound in sheep, its plain -furniture and heterogeneous clientage, to her present -surroundings was both stimulating and startling. -Stimulating because it catered to her yearning for -contact with ęsthetic influences to have the run of -this superb house and to be brought into daily -familiar association with all sorts of lavish -expenditure in aid of beautiful effects and beneficent -purposes. Startling because the true quality of the -luxury aimed at was unknown to her until she -became a constant eye-witness. In both Mrs. Wilson's -and her brother Carleton Howard's establishments -a major-domo presided over the purely domestic -relations, engaging the numerous servants, -and endeavoring to maintain such a competent -staff below stairs as to ensure delicious, -superabundant food and neat, noiseless service which -should emulate as far as possible the automatic -impersonality of male and female graven images. -All the appointments of the house were captivating; -the pantry closets bristled with beautiful -cut glass and delicate, superbly decorated china; -flowers in great profusion and variety were -brought three times a week from Carleton Howard's -private nurseries to be tastefully arranged by -a maid whose special duty it was to attend to this -and to see that those not needed for the decoration -of the house should be sent to the destinations -indicated by Mrs. Wilson through her secretary—hospitals, -friends in affliction or with birthdays, -and the like. The spacious bathrooms were lined -with artistic tiles; electric lights had been adjusted -in the chambers so as to provide perfect facilities -for reading in bed; once a week an attendant called -to wind all the clocks in the house. Mrs. Wilson's -personal appetite was not keen, yet exacting. Her -breakfast was served in her own room, and, unless -she had company, her other meals were apt to be -slight in substance, but were invariably of a -delicate, distinguished character as regards -appearance if not ingredients. Her steward had -instructions that the dinner table should be garnished -with flowers and the most luscious specimens of -the fruits of the season, though she were alone. -When she had guests these effects were amplified, -and her mind was constantly on the alert to provide -novelty for her entertainments. During the first -season of Constance's employment, music between -the courses—a harpist, a quartette of violinists, -an orchestra—happened to be the favorite special -feature of her dinner parties. -</p> - -<p> -That first winter Mrs. Wilson had the influenza -and went to Florida for a month for recuperation, -carrying her secretary with her. The journey -was made in Mr. Howard's private car, and the -suite which they occupied at the elaborate modern -hotel where they stopped was the most select to -be obtained. The spectacle at this winter resort -for restless multi-millionaires was another -bewildering experience for Constance. The display -of toilets and diamonds at night in the vast ornate -dining-room was dazzling and almost grotesque -in its competitive features. Mrs. Wilson -preserved her distinction by a rich simplicity of -costume. She had left her most striking gowns at -home, and she let Constance perceive that her -sensibilities took umbrage at this public cockatoo -emulation of wealth. She was even conspicuously -simple in regard to her food, as though she wished -to shun unmistakably being confounded with the -conglomeration of socially aspiring patrons, whose -antics jarred on her conceptions of beauty. But -Constance could not avoid the reflection that -profuse, if not prodigal, expenditure was typical of -her companion no less than of them, and that the -distinction was simply one of taste. What -impressed her was that so many people in the land -had merely to sign a check to command what they -desired, and that the mania for novel and special -comforts, and unique or gorgeous possessions was -in the air. On their way home Mrs. Wilson spent -a few days in New York shopping, having directed -Constance to communicate in advance with several -dealers whose business it was to dispose of artistic -masterpieces. She bought two pictures at a cost -of twenty-five thousand dollars apiece, an antique -collar of pearls, and several minor treasures. At -the same time she took advantage of the occasion -to grant an interview to two persons, a man and -a woman, who had solicited her aid in behalf of -separate educational charities. To each of these -enterprises, after proper consideration, she sent her -subscription for five thousand dollars. -</p> - -<p> -Undoubtedly the chief purpose of Mrs. Wilson's -stay in New York was to see her daughter. -After a three months' residence in South Dakota, -Lucille had obtained a divorce on the ground of -cruelty, and had promptly married her admirer, -Bradbury Nicholson, son of the president of the -Chemical Trust. Mrs. Wilson had declined to -attend the wedding, which took place in Sioux City -three days after the final decree had been entered—a -very quiet affair. Lucille had notified her mother -that it was to occur, but was not surprised that -she did not take the journey. She and her -husband had spent four months in Europe to let -people get accustomed to the idea that she was no -longer Mrs. Clarence Waldo, and recently they -had taken up their residence in New York. Her -new husband had three millions of his own, and, -as Lucille complacently expressed the situation to -her mother, society had received them exactly as -if nothing had happened. -</p> - -<p> -"I told you how it would be, Mamma," she -said. "Everybody understands that Clarence and -I were mismated. I am radiantly happy, and, as -for your granddaughter, she could not be fonder -of Bradbury if he were her own father. He has -bought a thousand dollar pony for her. All the -Nicholson connection and my old friends have -been giving us dinners, which shows that we can't -be disapproved of very strongly." -</p> - -<p> -Lucille certainly looked in the best spirits when -she came to see her mother. She was exquisitely -dressed, and her equipage, which stood at the -door during her visit, was in the height of fastidious -fashion. So far as externals were concerned, -it was manifest that she was making good her -promise to be more conservative and decorous. -Mrs. Wilson saw fit to mark her abhorrence of -her daughter's course by going to a hotel instead -of to Lucille's large house on Fifth Avenue. She -was not willing to stay under her new son-in-law's -roof, but how could she avoid making his -acquaintance and dining with him? A definite -breach with her only child was out of the question, -as she had previously realized; besides her -grand-daughter demanded now more than ever her -oversight and affection. Consequently on the second -day she dined at the new establishment, and -consented later to attend a dinner party which was -given in her honor, though Lucille kept that -compliment from her mother's knowledge until the -evening arrived. She had taken pains to secure the -most socially distinguished and interesting people -of her acquaintance, and the affair was alluded to -in the newspapers as one of the most brilliant -festivities of the winter. A leopard cannot -altogether change its spots, and Lucille's ruling -passion was still horses, but she desired to show her -mother that she had genuinely improved; so it -happened that after the guests had returned to the -drawing-room an organ-grinder accompanied by a -pleasing black-eyed young woman, both in fresh, -picturesque Italian attire, were ushered in. They -proved to be no less than two high-priced artists -from the grand opera, who, after a few preliminary -capers to keep up the illusion, sang thrilling -duets and solos. When they had finished came an -additional surprise in that the organ was shown -to be partially hollow and to contain a collection -of enamelled bonboničres which were passed on -trays by the servants among the delighted guests. -After the company had gone mother and daughter -had an intimate talk, in the course of which -Lucille, though making no apologies, volunteered the -statement that she in common with half a dozen -other women of her acquaintance had decided to -go into retirement in one of the church sisterhoods -during the period of Lent. She explained that -the sisters of her new husband, who had high -church sympathies, were preparing to do the same -and that the project appealed to her. Mrs. Wilson -was electrified. It was on her lips to ask -Lucille how she could reconcile this new departure -with her hasty second marriage, but she shrank -from seeming to discourage what might be an -awakening of faith or even of ęsthetic vitality in -her daughter's heart. Still, though she rejoiced -in Lucille's apparent happiness and prosperity, she -felt stunned at the failure of Providence to -vindicate its own just workings. Much as she desired -in the abstract that her daughter should be blessed, -how was it that so flagrant a violation of the -eternal proprieties could result not merely in -worldly advancement, but an attractive home? -For there was no denying that Bradbury -Nicholson was a far more engaging man than his -predecessor, and that he and Lucille were at present -highly sympathetic in their relations. Would the -harmony last? It ought not to, according to -spiritual reasoning. And yet on the surface the dire -experiment had proved a success and there were -indications that permanent domestic joys and -stability were likely to be the outcome of what she -considered disgrace. -</p> - -<p> -Mrs. Wilson did not condescend to refer to her -daughter's immediate past, but when she found -that Lucille was brimming over with fresh tidings -concerning the other offenders, Clarence Waldo and -Paul's wife, she suffered her to unbosom herself. -This news was consoling to her from the standpoint -of ethical justice. As she already was aware, -Mrs. Paul Howard, obdurate in her impatience -of delay, had obtained a divorce on the ground of -cruelty in Nebraska after six months, the statutory -period necessary to acquire residence, and had then -married Clarence Waldo. Now rumor reported -that the newly wedded couple, who had been -spending the present winter in Southern California -for the benefit of the second Mrs. Waldo's bronchial -tubes, had not hit it off well together, to -quote Lucille, and were likely to try again. For -according to the stories of people just from Los -Angeles she was permitting a Congressman from -California, the owner of large silver mines, to -dance constant attendance on her, and her -husband, quite out of conceit of her to all -appearances, was solacing himself with a pretty widow -from Connecticut. -</p> - -<p> -"Of course," added Lucille, contemplatively, -"if they really intend to obtain a divorce in order -to marry again, it will be convenient for them that -they happen to be in California, as that is another -of the states where one can acquire a legal -residence in six months." -</p> - -<p> -Mrs. Wilson's disgust was tempered by a fierce -sense of triumph. She was glad to know the facts, -but she did not wish to talk about them, especially -as she was far from clear in her mind that there -was any logical distinction to be drawn between -the conduct of these voluptuaries and that of her -own child. She tossed her head as much as to -say that she desired to drop the unsavory topic. -But Lucille was so far blind to any similarity -between the cases, or else so far content with the -contrast in results between the two remarriages, -that she continued in the same vein, which was -pensive rather than critical. -</p> - -<p> -"I am thankful that Paul insisted on keeping -Helen as a condition of not opposing his wife's -Nebraska libel, for it would have been rather -trying for the poor child to get used to three fathers -in less than three years." -</p> - -<p> -Mrs. Wilson felt like choking. The unpleasant -picture intensified her repulsion; yet she knew -that speech would be no relief for she would not -find Lucille properly sympathetic. Just at that -moment her granddaughter came prancing into -the room, and ran to her. Mrs. Wilson clasped -her to her breast as a mute outlet for her emotions, -for she could not help remembering that this child -also had two fathers, and what was the difference -but one of degree? Yet here was its mother -smiling in her face, seemingly without qualms and -perfectly happy. How was this peace of mind -to be reconciled with the eternal fitness of things? -</p> - -<p> -Meanwhile Lucille was saying, "Tell me about -Paul, Mamma. How does he take it? What is -he doing?" -</p> - -<p> -Mrs. Wilson sighed. "He was terribly cut up, -of course," she answered, gravely. "He feels -keenly the family disgrace." She paused -intentionally to let the words sink in. "Fortunately -for him, he has been invited to run for Congress—that -is, if he can get the nomination. It seems -there are several candidates, but your uncle tells -me Paul has the party organization behind him. -The caucuses for delegates do not meet until the -early autumn, and in the meantime he hopes to -make sufficient friends in the district, which -includes some of the small outlying country towns -as well as certain wards in Benham." -</p> - -<p> -"It would be nice to have Paul at Washington, -for he might be able to get the duties taken off so -that our trunks wouldn't be examined when we -come from Europe. I suppose it will cost him a -lot of money to be elected." -</p> - -<p> -"I have not heard so," said her mother, stiffly. -Though Mrs. Wilson's statement was true, -certain allusions in her presence by Paul and his -father had aroused the suspicion in her mind that -elaborate plans to secure the necessary number of -delegates were already being laid. The use of -money to carry elections was a public evil which -she heartily deplored, and which she was loth to -believe would be tolerated in her own family. -</p> - -<p> -"He can afford it anyway," continued Lucille, -disregarding the disclaimer. -</p> - -<p> -Mrs. Wilson changed the subject. "He was also -much absorbed when I left in his new automobile." -</p> - -<p> -Lucille clapped her hands. "A red devil?" -</p> - -<p> -"That name describes its appearance admirably. -It is the first one of the kind in Benham, and -naturally has excited much attention." -</p> - -<p> -"Bradbury has promised me one for a birthday -present." -</p> - -<p> -"I have not ridden with Paul yet," said Mrs. Wilson -a little wearily, for the enthusiasm elicited -appeared to her disproportionate to the theme. -"He has invited me once or twice, but somehow -the spirit has failed me." -</p> - -<p> -Lucille gasped. "It's the greatest fun on earth, -Mamma. They annihilate time and distance, and -you feel with the rush and the wind in your face -as though you were queen of the earth. If mine -runs well we intend to tour through the continent -this summer. Fancy speeding from one capital of -Europe to another in a few hours!" She paused, -then after a moment's reverie continued, as though -stating a really interesting sociological conclusion, -"I think it possible, Mamma, that if automobiles -had been invented earlier, Clarence and I might -not have bored each other. Which wouldn't have -suited me at all," she added, "for Bradbury is a -thousand times nicer." -</p> - -<p> -Mrs. Wilson was painfully conscious that Bradbury -was infinitely nicer, which increased the difficulties -in the way of replying to this incongruous -observation. She decided to ignore it as essentially -flippant, and she rose to go. It was the nearest -approach to a review of the past which either had -made during her stay in New York. -</p> - -<p> -She hoped that Constance would not appreciate -how completely Lucille had rehabilitated herself -in a worldly sense, and she tried to counteract the -effect of the evidence by letting fall a remark now -and again to show that the memory of her daughter's -conduct was still a thorn in her side. As a -mother she could not but be thankful that her -daughter was far happier as Mrs. Bradbury -Nicholson than she had been as Mrs. Clarence -Waldo. At the same time her being so was a -blow to the theory that the exchange of one -husband for another ought to end and ordinarily does -end in misery; or, in other words, that divorced -people who marry again should be and are -apt to be unhappy. To be sure, it was early to -judge, and the happiness might not last; and at -best it should be regarded as a sporadic case of -contradiction, a merciful exception to the general -rule; but she was glad when the day arrived for -removing Constance from the sphere of this -influence, fearing perhaps some pointed question -from her secretary which would invite her to -explain how it was that a person who had deserved -so little to be happy as Lucille should have found -divorce and remarriage a blessing, if the whole -proceeding in deserving cases was fundamentally -opposed to the social well-being of civilization. -As an antidote, Mrs. Wilson took pains to -enlighten her as to the rumored depravity of -Clarence Waldo and the late Mrs. Howard. -</p> - -<p> -But Constance asked aloud no such question. -Yet necessarily she perceived that Lucille was in -the best of spirits, and apparently had suffered no -loss of position by her conduct. Constance did -not need, however, any reminder from Mrs. Wilson -that the late Mrs. Waldo was not a person -of the finest sensibilities; moreover she considered -the point as definitely settled for herself. -Nevertheless as a spectator, if no more, she noted the -circumstance that Lucille was already a different -woman in consequence of her second marriage, -and she detected her reason challenging her -conscience with the inquiry which Mrs. Wilson had -dreaded, how it appeared that the world would -have been better off if Lucille had simply left the -husband who had been faithless to her, and -remained single instead of marrying. Constance -was merely collecting evidence, as it were. All -was over between her and Gordon, but as an -intelligent, sentient human being she had no intention -of playing the ostrich, but insisted on maintaining -an open mind. -</p> - -<p> -It was now nearly a year since she had conversed -with Gordon. Her sentence had been perpetual -banishment from his presence since the fateful -Sunday when they had parted. He had written -to her that he could not bear to resume the old -relation, for now that they knew they had been -lovers in disguise, it could not be the old -relation. He had declared that the best thing for -them both was never to meet, and she had been -forced to accept his decision, for he had not been -to see her since. Yet he had mitigated the rigor -of her punishment, for she chose to regard it as -such, by occasional letters, written at irregular -intervals, letters which let her know beyond the -shadow of a doubt that the love he cherished for -her was strong and deep as ever. He sent her -beautiful flowers on Christmas and her birthday, -and in writing to her he told her briefly whatever -of special interest he had been doing. Precious -as these communications were to Constance, she -was of several minds as to whether to answer them. -Her impulse always was to reply at once, if only -that she might draw forth another letter; but -sometimes her scruples forced her not to let him -see how much she cared and to feign indifference -by silence. She knew, as Loretta said, that she had -only to whistle and he would come to her, and she -felt that it would be cruel to give him the smallest -encouragement to believe that she could ever alter -her decision. This being so, she argued that he -ought to marry; he must forget her and chose -someone else. She tried to believe that she would -rejoice to hear that he was engaged to another -woman, but when her thoughts got running in this -channel she was apt to break down and realize -that she had been trying to deceive herself. In such -moments of revulsion she now and then would -throw her scruples to the winds and write him -about herself and her doings. On two occasions -she had suddenly decided that it was necessary for -her to see him again; see him without his seeing -her. Consequently she had frequented a spot -down-town where she knew he would pass, and -each time had been rewarded by a close and -unobserved glimpse of his dear features. These -glimpses, the letters, and the flowers were the -bright shining milestones along the itinerary of her -much occupied life. Busy and interested as she -was in her employment, it sometimes seemed to -her that she walked in a trance in the intervals -between some word or sign from him. -</p> - -<p class="capcenter"> -<a id="img-422"></a> -<img class="imgcenter" src="images/img-422.jpg" alt="The flowers were the bright, shining milestone." /> -<br /> -The flowers were the bright, shining milestone. -</p> - -<p> -Delighted as she had been to travel, to see such -a diverse panorama of national life as her trip to -Florida and New York afforded, she was glad to -find herself again at home. She had not heard -from Gordon during her absence, and she was -eager to see the Benham newspapers again in order -to ascertain what he had been doing in his new -capacity as a legislator. He had written to her -the preceding autumn that he had decided to allow -the use of his name as a candidate for the State -Assembly, and subsequently he had been elected. -Before her departure in the early days of the -session, she had kept her eyes and ears on the alert -for public mention of him, but had been informed -that this was the period for committee conferences -and that the opportunity for debate would come -after the bills had been framed and were before -the house. Constance knew that Gordon had the -strong support of the Citizens' Club in his canvass, -that Hall Collins, Ernest Bent and others affiliated -with that organization had conducted rallies in his -behalf, and that he was expected to favor progressive -legislation. There were certain philanthropic -measures in which Mrs. Wilson was interested also -before the Assembly, and Constance had twice -already prepared letters from her employer to -Gordon in reference to these, which was another slight -opportunity for keeping in touch with him. -</p> - -<p> -Shortly after Mrs. Wilson's return from her -vacation it happened that Paul invited her again -to ride in his automobile. Recalling Lucille's -enthusiasm, and having been partial all her life to -new ęsthetic sensations, she concluded to test -the exhilaration described by those who doted -on these machines. The afternoon chosen was -one of those days in the early spring when sky -and wind combine to simulate the balminess of -summer. It was a satisfaction for Paul to -have his aunt beside him both because he -admired her and because, seeing that he regarded -her as what he called a true sport at bottom, he -felt confident that she had only to experience the -sensation of speed to become an enthusiast like -himself. Therefore, he let his red devil show -what it could do, in the hope of carrying her by -storm. Equipped with suitable wraps and a pair -of goggles, Mrs. Wilson found the process of -whirling through the country at a breakneck pace, -by the mere compression of a lever, a weird and -rather magnetic ordeal. These were the adjectives -which she employed to express her gratification -to her nephew. She was glad to have tried -it, but in her secret soul she had grave doubts if -it were the sort of thing she liked. Nevertheless -she did her best to appear delighted, for she had -in mind to drop a few words of warning in Paul's -ear to the effect that it was incumbent on men of -his class in the community to preserve their -self-respect in the matter of electioneering as an -example to the country at large. In the intervals -when Paul moderated the speed she endeavored -to convey to him clearly but not too concretely the -substance of her solicitude. She let him realize -that she had him and his campaign in mind, but -that she did not intend to meddle beyond the limit -of emphasizing a principle unless he were to ask -her advice. Paul listened to what she had to say -with evident interest, and without interruption. -He even let his machine crawl along so as to get -the complete benefit of her exposition. When she -had set forth her views she turned toward him -and said in conclusion, by way of showing that she -made no charges but simply desired to put him on -his guard: -</p> - -<p> -"Very likely you have thought this all out for -yourself and intend to see that every dollar you -may use is expended legitimately." -</p> - -<p> -Paul let the automobile come to a halt, and -removing his goggles proceeded to wipe off the -dust and moisture. -</p> - -<p> -"Aunt Miriam, every word which you've said is -gospel truth; but—and it is a large but—if I were -to follow your advice to the letter there would -not be the slightest possibility of my securing the -nomination. I've thought it all out, as you say, -and I'd give gladly to charity twice the sum I shall -be compelled to spend, if I could only confine my -outlay to legitimate expenses, stationery, printing -and the hiring of a few halls. I've no objection -to explaining to you why I can't, provided I wish -to keep in the running. There are three men -including myself in this district," he continued, -starting the lever, "who are bidding for the -nomination. Each of us has a machine, a machine the -function of which is to create enthusiasm. Ninety -per cent. of the candidates for public office do not -inspire enthusiasm; they have to manufacture it. -And there are all sorts of ways of doing so; by -paying club assessments and equipping torch-light -paraders with uniforms; by invading the homes of -horny-handed proletarians and sending tennis or -ping-pong sets to their progeny; or by the solider, -subtler method of large direct cash payments, -which can never be detected, to a certain number -of local vampires as expenses for influence, and -whose <i>quid pro quo</i> is the delivery of the goods -at the polls. I have engaged a smooth and highly -recommended patriot at a high salary to conduct -my canvass. He has told me there will be large -expenses. When he asks for money I draw a check -and ask no questions—a rank coward's way I -admit. I know nothing as to what he does with the -money, and so I salve my conscience after a -fashion." Paul shrugged his shoulders and applied a -little more power to the automobile, while he -chanted: -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - "Some naturalists observe the flea<br /> - Has smaller fleas on him to prey,<br /> - And these have smaller still to bite 'em,<br /> - And so proceed <i>ad infinitum</i>.<br /> -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -"Which means, my dear aunt," he continued, -"that when a rich man runs for office a certain -proportion of the free-born consider that they are -entitled to direct or indirect pickings in return for -a vote." -</p> - -<p> -Mrs. Wilson sighed. "But is not the price too -high for a free-born citizen to pay? Why -exchange private life and the herbs of personal -respect for publicity and a stalled ox which is -tainted?" -</p> - -<p> -"I've thought occasionally of getting out, but -father would be disappointed. I wish to go to -Congress myself and the party wishes me to go. -And what would be the result if I retired? One -of the other two would win, and I don't throw any -large bouquet at myself in stating that I shall -make a much more useful and disinterested -Congressman than either of them." -</p> - -<p> -Mrs. Wilson shook her head, but at the same -time she appreciated the difficulties of the -situation. For she herself desired to see her nephew -go to Washington. It was one thing to tell him -to take a brave stand and refuse to swerve from -the path of highest political probity, another to -advise him in the midst of the canvass to dismiss -his manager and thus invite certain defeat. It -sometimes seemed to her that the ways of the -world of men were past understanding. She -wondered whether, if human affairs were in the hands -of women, the rivalry of politics and the competition -of commercialism would tolerate the same -army of highwaymen who held up would-be decent -citizens as successfully and appallingly as Dick -Turpin and Claude Duval. She liked to believe -that complete purity would reign, and yet the -memory of what some women to her knowledge were -capable of in the bitterness of club politics served -as a caveat to that deduction. Discouraging as -Paul's observations were, as bearing on the ethical -progress of human nature, and deeply as she -deplored the fact that he appeared to be winking at -bribery, she recognized that she had shot her bolt, -for she was not sufficiently conversant with the -different grades of electioneering impropriety to -be willing to take on herself the responsibility of -imploring him to retire, even if he would consent -to do so. But the confession had robbed the day -of much of its beauty for her. She glanced at the -little clock in the dashboard, and remembering that -she desired to leave a message for her secretary, -to whom she had given an afternoon off, she asked -Paul if he would return home by way of Lincoln -Chambers. -</p> - -<p> -It happened that in turning something went -wrong, so that the automobile came to a stop. -Paul was obliged to potter over the mechanism -a quarter of an hour before he was able to get -the better of the infirmity. Somewhat nettled, -and eager to make up for lost time and to demonstrate -to his companion that in spite of this mishap -a red devil was the peer of all vehicles, he -forced the pace toward Benham. By the time he -was within the city limits his blood was coursing -in his veins as the result of the impetus, and he -felt on his mettle to amaze the onlookers as he -sped swiftly and dexterously through the streets. -Gliding from avenue to avenue without misadventure -he applied a little extra power as they flew -down that street around one corner of which stood -Lincoln Chambers, in order to make an impressive -finish. In turning he described an accurate but -short circle, so that the automobile careened -slightly, causing Mrs. Wilson to utter an involuntary -murmur. Paul, amused at her nervousness, suffered -his attention to be diverted for an instant; -the next he realized that a young child, darting -from the sidewalk, was in the direct path of the -rapidly moving machine. He strained every nerve -to prevent a collision, shutting off the power and -endeavoring to deflect the vehicle's course so that -it might strike the curbstone to their own peril -rather than the child's; but the catastrophe was -complete almost before he realized that it was -inevitable. There was a sickening bump, accompanied -by the screams of women; the red devil had -overwhelmed and crushed the little victim, and -stood panting and shaking like a rudely curbed -dragon. -</p> - -<p> -Paul jumped from his seat and lifted the child -from the gutter into which it had been hurled and -where it lay ominously still with its head against -the curbstone. He found himself face to face with -two women, in one of whom he recognized his -aunt's secretary. The other with an assertive -agony which made plain her right to interfere, -sought to take the child from him—a flaxen-haired -girl of about four—exclaiming: -</p> - -<p> -"Oh, what have you done? You've killed her. -You've killed her." -</p> - -<p> -Meanwhile Mrs. Wilson, utterly shocked, -sought to keep her head as the only possible -amelioration of the horror. She whispered in -Paul's ear: "There's a drug store opposite. We'll -take her there first and send for a doctor." At -the same time she put her arm around the mother's -shoulder, and said, "Let him carry her, Loretta, -dear. It is best so." -</p> - -<p> -Loretta Davis desisted, though she stared wildly -in her patron's face. -</p> - -<p> -"The blood—the blood," she cried, pointing to -the tell-tale streaks on the child's head. "I'm sure -she's dead." -</p> - -<p> -Acting on his aunt's suggestion, Paul bounded -across the way with the limp form clasped in his -arms. While those immediately concerned -endeavored with the aid of the apothecary to -ascertain that the injuries were not grave, a curious -crowd began to gather in the store. By the time -that the trial of the ordinary restoratives had -made clear that the child was already beyond the -aid of medicine, though Mrs. Wilson and Constance -wrung their hands and counted the seconds -in hope that the physician telephoned for would -arrive, a reporter, a policeman, and a doctor -appeared on the scene. The physician, who -happened to be passing, was Dr. Dale, the oculist with -the closely cut beard and incisive manner who had -attended Constance. A moment's inspection -sufficed him for a verdict. -</p> - -<p> -"There is nothing to be done," he said. -</p> - -<p> -At the fell words a wave of anguish passed -through the group. Paul allowed Mrs. Wilson -to take the baby from him; and, overwhelmed -beyond the point of control, he bowed his head in -his hands, and burst into tears. His aunt -reverently clasped the stiffening form to her bosom -regardless of the oozing blood which mottled her -cloak. -</p> - -<p> -"We must get Loretta home as quickly as possible," -she whispered to Constance, and she started -to lead the way so as to save the situation from -further publicity. -</p> - -<p> -But now that the doctor's usefulness was at an -end, the two other representatives of social -authority advanced their claims for recognition. The -police officer, having relegated the gaping spectators -to a respectful distance, began to inquire into -the circumstances of the accident, in which he was -ably surpassed by the agent of the press, who, -note-book in hand, had already been collecting -material from the bystanders and composing a -sketch of the surroundings before interviewing the -principals. Paul gave his name and address, and -made no attempt to disguise his responsibility for -the tragedy. Mrs. Wilson, finding her way barred -by the two functionaries, grudgingly gave similar -information in the hope that they would be -allowed to escape. As she bore the victim in her -arms, this would have been the result had not -Loretta, who was following close behind under the -supervision of Constance, and who up to this point -had seemed dazed by the proceedings, suddenly -realized what was taking place. She clutched -Constance's arm. -</p> - -<p> -"Will it be in the newspapers?" she inquired -with feverish interest. -</p> - -<p> -The reporter overheard her inquiry. "You are -the mother of the little girl, madam?" he asked, -addressing her, pencil in hand. -</p> - -<p> -"Yes. She is my only child." -</p> - -<p> -"Your name is?" -</p> - -<p> -"Loretta Davis." -</p> - -<p> -"And the child's?" -</p> - -<p> -"Tottie. She would have been five in a few -weeks." -</p> - -<p> -The reporter perceived that he had found a -responsive subject. "I lost a little girl of just that -age two years ago," he volunteered sympathetically. -"Is there a photograph of Tottie which -you could let me have for the press? The public -would like to see what she looked like." -</p> - -<p> -Loretta's eyes sparkled. She thrust her hand -in her pocket and drew forth a photographer's -envelope. "Isn't it lucky," she cried, "I got these -proofs only yesterday, and they're the living image -of my baby." -</p> - -<p> -As she hastily removed the package from her -pocket, together with her handkerchief, Loretta -let a small bottle slip to the floor. Constance, who -was spellbound with dismay at the turn of affairs, -stooped mechanically to pick it up. She recognized -the pellets lauded by Loretta. In doing so -her head nearly bumped against that of Dr. Dale, -who was intent on a similar purpose. He got -possession of the bottle, and instinctively he -glanced at the label before transferring it to -Constance. She observed that he shrugged his shoulders. -As she put out her hand to take it from him, -she said in a low, resolute tone: -</p> - -<p> -"Will you tell me what those are?" Then as -the physician regarded her searchingly, she added, -"I have a special reason for asking. I wish to -befriend her." -</p> - -<p> -"Cocaine tablets," answered Dr. Dale. "The -woman has the appearance of a drug habitué." -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap25"></a></p> - -<h3> -XXV -</h3> - -<p> -In parting with the Rev. Mr. Prentiss without -personal rancor and yet with an open avowal -of his conviction that Constance would marry him -in the end, Gordon Perry both made an admission -and issued a challenge. His admission on the -surface was simply that he recognized the rector's -sincerity. In his own consciousness it went further; -he recognized the validity of the conflict between -them to an extent which he had up to this time -failed to perceive, or at least to acknowledge. -</p> - -<p> -The effect of this was to intensify the ardor of -his convictions, but at the same time to cause him -as a lawyer to respect his opponent's position, -though he believed it to be utterly false. The -interview had been absorbing to him sociologically, -for it had crystallized in his own mind as concrete -realities certain drifts or tendencies of which he -had been aware, but which he had hitherto never -formulated in words. Now that the occasion was -come for doing so, the indictment—for it was that—had -risen spontaneously to his lips. It was clear -to him, as he had informed Mr. Prentiss, that -there was a direct strife in American social -evolution between those who sought eternal truth -through the free processes of the human spirit -and those who accepted it distilled through an -hierarchy. -</p> - -<p> -Just as in his sociological perplexities Gordon, -yearning to be a sane spirit, had abstained from -radicalism and had sought relief in concrete -practical activities, he had watched the theological -firmament and had felt his way. If he realized -that the Christian organizations which saw in the -human soul a dignity which rejected mediation -were merely holding their own as formal bodies, -he comforted himself with the knowledge that the -thousands of men and women who rarely entered -the churches—among them many of the most -thoughtful and busiest workers in the land—were -to a unit sympathizers with the creed of soul-freedom -and soul-development. Not merely this; he -knew that among orthodox worshippers the secret -belief of the majority of the educated already -rejected as superfluous or antiquated most of the -old dogmas. But with his reverence for religion -as an institution, Gordon had no ambition to -outstrip his generation; simply to be in the van of it. -There was no attraction for him in iconoclasm; -he craved illumination, yet not at the expense of -rationalism. Now suddenly the practical issue of -the Church's interference with the State, of the -Church's imposition on mankind of a cruel, inflexible -ideal, labelled as superior purity, had become -both an immediate and a personal concern. His -soul felt seared as by an iron; all his instincts of -sympathy with common humanity, the helpless -victims of an arbitrary aim to preserve the family -at the expense of the blameless individual, were -aroused and intensified. Viewed as a general issue, -Gordon felt no question as to the outcome. Was -it not already decided? The Church had never -ceased to deplore as usurpation society's constantly -louder claim the world over of the right to -regulate marriage, but without avail. It was only -abuse by the State which had produced a reaction -and given sacerdotalism another chance. But the -particular, the personal issue, was a very different -matter. For him it meant everything, and his -whole being revolted at the possibility of losing -the great joy of life through such a misapprehension -of spiritual duty on the part of her who, so -far as he was concerned, was the one woman in -existence. Yet during the next weeks following -the interview with the clergyman he experienced -a sense of flatness which was almost despondency, -for he realized that he had exhausted his resources. -Mr. Prentiss had refused to aid him; on the -contrary, had virtually defied him by expressing a -triumphant conviction that Constance's decision -was final. Could it be that she, whose lucidity of -mind he had been wont to admire, would refuse -to understand that the barrier which seemed to -separate them was but an illusion? Surely it was -not for the good of the world that true love—its -most vital force—should be starved because the -marriage tie was played fast and loose with by -others. And yet he appreciated apprehensively -the subtlety of this plea for the world's good; how -modern it was, and how attractive to woman when -made the motive for the exercise of renunciation. -Truly, the priest had argued shrewdly, yet Gordon -refused to admit that Constance could be deceived -for long. That seemed too incompatible with her -previous outlook and their delightful comradeship -which had held love in disguise. -</p> - -<p> -He concluded forthwith that his best hope lay -in terminating that comradeship. To resume it -would make them brother and sister, a relation -tantalizing to him, and which might be better than -nothing to her, and thus strengthen her resolve. -Accordingly, with Spartan courage, he never visited -her. But he chose by his letters and his gifts -to let her know unequivocally that he was waiting -for her to relent—would wait until the end of -time. He wrote to her that her dear image was -the constant inspiration of his thoughts, and that -he sighed for the sound of her voice. -</p> - -<p> -While thus he chafed within, and yet endeavored -to pursue his work as earnestly as though he -had been able to forget, he received and accepted -an invitation from the Citizens' Club to become -a candidate for the State Assembly. He saw in -this both relief and an incentive; public service -would tend to divert and refresh his thoughts, and -opportunity would be afforded him to promote -legislation. It would suit him to become a -member of the free parliament of men where, whatever -its abuses and shortcomings, the needs of ordinary -humanity were threshed out, and where true, -practical reforms were piece by piece won from -the vested traditions of the past. -</p> - -<p> -At the same time he declared to the members -of the committee which waited on him that in -accepting their nomination he was not to be -understood as offering himself to the voters as a -denunciatory radical or as advocating all the so-called -grievances aired at the Citizens' Club. His words -were, "I agree to support every measure which I -believe would be an immediate benefit to the -community from the standpoint of justice and public -usefulness. If you are content with that guarded -generalization, I shall be proud to serve you; but -if you insist on my playing the demagogue or wearing -the livery of the enemies of constituted society, -I must decline the nomination." -</p> - -<p> -"That's all right," asserted Hall Collins, who -was the spokesman. "What we want this trip -are two or three new pieces of timber in the ship -of state, repairs we'll call them if you like it so, -and we've chosen you as carpenter for the job. -Side with us when you can, and when you can't -we'll know you're honest." -</p> - -<p> -This voiced the sentiment of the Citizens' Club, -and it was no disparagement to the sincerity of its -action that those who directed the club's affairs -cherished hopes that the nominee, through his -standing, would gain support from other quarters -than the radical element and thus be more likely -to win. Their hopes were justified. Gordon had -a comfortable majority in his district, though it -was understood that he had affiliations with -so-called socialists and labor reformers. -</p> - -<p> -During the first year of his service as a legislator -he made no effort to fix public attention on -himself by forensic readiness. He was studying the -methods of procedure and familiarizing himself -with the personnel of the assembly. But though -his name did not appear conspicuously in the press -notices—which was a disappointment to a certain -lady constantly on the watch for it—this did not -mean that he failed to attract the attention of his -associates. On the contrary, his thoroughness, -patience, and fairness were soon recognized, and -when he rose to speak—which he did more -frequently in the later weeks of the session in relation -to bills of importance where the vote was likely to -be close—the members paid attention as though -they were glad to know his reasons. It was -perceived that he inclined to the party of progress -rather than to the conservatives, but that he did -not hesitate to turn a cold shoulder towards or to -rebuke mere blatherskite or visionary measures. -</p> - -<p> -A modern legislature has to deal with questions -which vitally affect the development of the body -politic; the relations of powerful corporations to -the public and it to them; the demands of toiling -bread-winners for shorter hours of labor and -hygienic safeguards, and the newly fermented -strife between the right to hold and the obligation -to share the fruits of the earth and the profits of -superior ability and industry. These were problems -which particularly interested Gordon, and, as -one by one they arose for action, he sought to solve -each on its merits without prejudice and with an -eye to justice. It was understood that he would -be a candidate for the next assembly, and in making -their forecast the sophisticated referred to him -as a coming leader, one of the men who would -control the balance of power by force of his -intelligence and independence. The Citizens' Club was -content with the part which he had played. Several -measures in which it was interested had become -law through his advocacy; others, though defeated, -had gained ground; two notable bills conferring -valuable franchises for next to nothing upon -plausible capitalists had been exposed and given -their quietus in spite of a persistent lobby; and the -candidate had promised during the next session to -press the bill for a progressive legacy tax, an -amendment to the existing legacy tax law, which -would increase the sum levied in progressive ratio -with the size of every estate transferred by death. -This was a reform which Hall Collins and his -intimates had at heart, and they had won Gordon to -their side as an enthusiastic supporter of its -essential reasonableness. The bill had been killed in -committee for the past two years; yet the present -year the adverse report had been challenged in the -house and had been sustained by a comparatively -small majority after strenuous and excited appeals -to what was termed the sober, conservative sense -of the American people. Gordon's speech in behalf -of the measure was listened to with a silence -which suggested a desire for enlightenment. After -the debate was over there had been prophecies that -another year it would stand a good chance of -passing. -</p> - -<p> -It was toward the close of Gordon's first session -in the assembly that the harrowing death of -Loretta's child occurred, and, owing to the prominence -of the parties concerned in the homicide, which -was the first automobile accident in Benham, -became town talk. The newspaper artists illustrated -the tragedy with drawings of the red devil in the -act of striking the victim, portraits of everybody -concerned, from Tottie to the apothecary into -whose shop she had been carried, and camera cuts -of the obsequies. There were appropriate -editorials on the iniquity of allowing furious engines -to be propelled at a rapid rate through the streets; -and sensational conflicting rumors were rife in the -news columns as to the amount by which the -repentant multi-millionaire had sought to idemnify -the mother for his carelessness. Conjecture fixed it -at various sums from one thousand to fifty thousand -dollars, and one imaginative scribe conjured -up the information that Tottie was to be replaced -as far as possible by the most beautiful baby which -the Howard family could procure by search or -advertisement. -</p> - -<p> -In his genuine distress for the irreparable evil -he had wrought Paul Howard had gone straightway -to Loretta to pour out his contrition and to -express a willingness to make such amends as were -possible for the catastrophe. He saw her twice; -the first time on the day following the accident, -when she appeared excited but dazed; the second -on the morning after the funeral. Then her condition -of mind bordered closely on exaltation as the -result of being the temporary focus of public -attention. She was surrounded by newspapers, and -she insisted on calling Paul's notice to all the -reportorial features. With special pride she made -him note a cut which showed that the coffin had -been piled high with the most exquisite flowers—a -joint contribution from Mrs. Wilson and himself. -Loretta's own apartment was also a bower of roses -from the same sympathizing source, and the young -woman was in her best dress-festal mourning—as -though she were expecting visitors. Paul found -some difficulty in broaching the question of -indemnity. He was in the mood to draw his check for -any sum in reason which the bereaved mother -should declare to be satisfactory compensation for -her loss even though it were excessive, so that he -might adjust the matter then and there. He had -every intention of being generous; moreover he -knew that all this publicity concerning the accident -was injuring his canvass for the Congressional -nomination, and he hoped to create a reaction in -his favor by behaving handsomely. But Loretta, -though she obviously understood what he was -driving at, evaded the topic, and when, in order -to clinch matters, he told her in plain terms that -he wished to make her a present and asked her to -name the sum, she looked knowing and suspicious, -as much as to say that she knew her rights and had -no intention of committing herself. -</p> - -<p> -Paul, who mistook her contrariness for -diffidence, was on the point of naming an amount -which would have made her open her eyes when -she suddenly said with a leer intended to convey -the impression of shrewdness: -</p> - -<p> -"I'm going to talk with my lawyer first. People -say it was all your fault, and that I ought to -get a fortune. I've witnesses for my side." -</p> - -<p> -Paul was taken aback. "It was all my fault. -I've told you already that I was entirely to blame. -And I'm anxious for you to tell me how much I -ought to pay as damages. So there won't be any -need of a lawyer on either side." -</p> - -<p> -Loretta argued to herself that she was not to -be caught by any such smooth words. She tossed -her head. -</p> - -<p> -"I don't know about that. I'm going to get -one of the smartest attorneys in Benham to attend -to my case." She waited a moment, then added -triumphantly, believing that her announcement -would carry dismay to her crafty visitor, "It's -Gordon Perry, Esq., Counsellor-at-Law." -</p> - -<p> -"Gordon Perry?" -</p> - -<p> -Loretta construed his inflection of astonishment -as consternation. -</p> - -<p> -"Yes," she said, "I'm going to consult him this -afternoon." -</p> - -<p> -It was on Paul's lips to inform her that Gordon -was his lawyer too, but her uncompromising -attitude had produced its natural effect, and he felt -at liberty to practise a little craft in his turn. If -he were to disclose the truth, she would be likely -to consult someone else; whereas Gordon and he -could come to terms speedily. So he merely -responded that he knew Mr. Perry to be an excellent -attorney, and that he would be content to abide by -his decision. -</p> - -<p> -The final settlement required some diplomacy -on Gordon's part on account of the difference in -point of view between the contracting parties. -Loretta had definitely fixed on ten thousand -dollars as the Mecca of her hopes, than which, as she -declared to Gordon at their first interview, she -would not accept a cent less; whereas Paul was -disposed to make her comfortable for life by a -donation of twenty-five thousand. He naturally -had discussed the subject with his aunt, and this -was the sum which had been agreed on between -them as fitting. Mrs. Wilson was overwhelmed -by the disaster; it haunted her thoughts; and, -though she remembered Loretta's original -indifference regarding the child, it seemed to her that -the only possible expiation would be a princely -benefaction, such as would thrill the bereaved -recipient. But when she in her turn mentioned the -matter to Constance, the latter, who had been -mulling over the insinuation uttered by Dr. Dale, -informed her what he had said. The effect of -this intelligence was to strengthen the purpose -which Mrs. Wilson and Paul had already formed -to have the gift tied up so that Loretta could use -only the income, and thus be protected indefinitely -against designing companions and herself. But -when Gordon, who had abstained from revealing -the extent of Paul's intended liberality, suggested -this arrangement, he encountered sour opposition -from his client. It was manifest that Loretta had -set her heart on being complete mistress of the ten -thousand dollars, and that any curtailment of her -power to exhibit it and spend it as she saw fit -would be a bitter disappointment. Either she did -not understand, or declined to understand what -was meant by a trust, and plainly she regarded -the proposition as a subterfuge on the part of the -donor to keep his clutch on the money. Gordon -endeavored to reason with her and to show her the -disinterested wisdom of the plan, but she shook -her head no less resolutely after he had finished. -When her repugnance was stated to Paul, he bade -Gordon pay her the ten thousand dollars in cash -and say nothing about the remainder. He added -good-naturedly: -</p> - -<p> -"I suppose it's natural enough that she should -like to finger the money. Let her blow it in as she -chooses, and when it's gone I'll settle an annuity -on her." -</p> - -<p> -Loretta came to Constance on the following -day with glittering eyes and exhibited her -treasure-trove—a bank book and a roll of bills. -</p> - -<p> -"It's all there," she said. "My lawyer went -with me and he saw me hand it all over except this -hundred dollars to the man in the cage. My -lawyer made me count it first. He's smart—Gordon -Perry, Esq., Counsellor-at-Law. I'm rich now." -</p> - -<p> -"But you will go on nursing just the same, won't -you, Loretta? It's your profession, you know." -</p> - -<p> -Loretta looked non-committal. "Perhaps. But -I'm going to take a rest first and—and buy a few -things." She spread out proudly the new crisp -bank bills like a pack of cards. "I've never been -able to buy anything before." -</p> - -<p> -Solicitous as she felt regarding the future, -Constance had not the heart to repress sympathy with -this radiant mood. Blood money as it was, it -would, nevertheless, mean many pleasures and -comforts to the pensioner. It was no time for -advice or for extracting promises of good behavior. -So in a few words she showed the approach to -envy which was expected of her. -</p> - -<p> -By way of recompense, or because she had been -waiting for congratulations to be paid first, -Loretta presently paused, looked knowing, and giving -Constance a nudge whispered oracularly, as one -whose views were now entitled to respectful -consideration, "I sounded him about you, Constance, -and it's all right. I could see it is, though I guess he -didn't like much my speaking. And what do you -suppose I told him? That he mustn't get discouraged, -for one had only to look at you to know -that you were perfectly miserable without him." -</p> - -<p> -"How dare you tell him such a thing? What -right had you to meddle?" cried Constance, -beside herself with anger and humiliation. She -clenched her hands; she wished that she might -throw herself upon this arch, complacent busybody -and box her ears. "This is too much! Besides, -it is not true—it is not true." -</p> - -<p> -"True? Of course it's true. And why should -you mind its being true if you love him? I was -trying to help you, Constance, so there's no use in -getting mad." -</p> - -<p> -Obviously Loretta on her side was surprised -at the reception accorded her good offices, and at -a loss to explain such an abnormal outburst on the -part of her habitually gentle comrade. Perception -of this swiftly checked the current of Constance's -wrath, but, as her equanimity returned, the -eyes of her mind became pitilessly fixed on -herself. Perfectly miserable! Was not that indeed -the real truth? And true not only of her but of -him? Of him, who had told her that she was -sacrificing the joy of both their lives to a fetich. -Loretta's rude probing had made one thing -clear—that it was futile to try longer to persuade -herself that she was happy. -</p> - -<p> -Yet her reply was, "I take you at your word, -Loretta, that you meant no harm. Please -remember, however, hereafter that my relations with -Mr. Perry are a subject not to be spoken of to -either of us, if you do not wish to be unkind." -</p> - -<p> -Loretta stared, and laughed as though she -suspected that this appeal was designed to put her -off the scent. But she was too much absorbed in -her own altered status to care to bandy words on -the matter. Two days later she disappeared from -Lincoln Chambers. But the fact of her absence -awakened no concern in the mind of Constance -for several weeks inasmuch as she had gathered -from Mrs. Harrity that Loretta had gone to another -patient. But presently it transpired that she -had taken all her belongings with her, and had -made the charwoman promise to make no mention -of that mysterious fact for the time being. -Mrs. Harrity could throw no further light on the -lodger's exodus, but admitted that under the spell -of one of the crisp new bills she had asked no -questions and subsequently held her tongue. -</p> - -<p> -Constance immediately imparted her fears to -Mrs. Wilson, who instituted promptly a search -through the police authorities. Investigation -disclosed that a woman answering to the description -of Loretta had been seen at some of the restaurants -and entertainment resorts of flashy character -in the company of a man with whom there was -reason to believe she had left town. It was found -also on inquiry at the bank where here funds had -been placed that the entire deposit had been -withdrawn some three weeks subsequent to the date -when the account was opened. -</p> - -<p> -Confronted with this disagreeable intelligence -Mrs. Wilson felt aghast. It occasioned her -grievous personal distress that her ward should -have fallen so signally from grace at the very -moment when the spirit of righteousness should have -triumphed, and she was displeased to think that -her philanthropic acumen had been at fault. But -the elasticity of her spirit presently prevailed, and -it was with an exculpating sense of recovery and -of illumination which was almost breathless that -she said to Constance: -</p> - -<p> -"I fear that we must face the fact that she is a -degenerate; one of those unhappy beings whom the -helping hands of society are powerless to uplift -because of their inherent preference for evil." -</p> - -<p> -Upon her lips the word "degenerate" had the -sound of the ring of fate and of modern scientific -sophistication withal. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap26"></a></p> - -<h3> -XXVI -</h3> - -<p> -A year later, in the early days of spring and -the closing weeks of the next State Assembly, -Carlton Howard and his son Paul sat -conversing in Mrs. Wilson's study. They had -been dining with her, and on rising from the table -she had invited them to keep her company in her -private apartment while she busied herself with -matters incident to the entertainment she was to -give in a little more than a week to the members -of the American Society for the Discussion of -Social Problems, as the crowning festivity to its four -days' meeting in Benham. -</p> - -<p> -Mrs. Wilson was elated over the opportunity to -mingle the thoughtful people of the country—some -of whom, as seen at annual meetings of the -society elsewhere, appeared to her to have -cultivated intellectual aptness at the expense of the -graces of life—and Benham's fashionable coterie. -She reasoned that the experience would be -stimulating for both, and with her secretary at her -elbow she was absorbed in planning various -features to give distinction to the event. Her -hospitality, from one point of view, would not be the -first of its kind in the annals of the society, for at -each of the last two meetings—the one in Chicago, -the other in St. Louis—there had been an attempt -to entertain the members more lavishly than -hitherto. So in a sense she felt herself on her -mettle to set before her visitors the best which -Benham afforded, and so effectively as to eclipse -the past and at the same time bring a little nearer -that appropriate blending between beauty and -wisdom to which she looked forward as an ultimate -social aim. -</p> - -<p> -She had been of many minds as to what form -her entertainment should take, and had finally -settled on this programme: Dinner was to be served -at her house to the seventy-five visiting and -resident members and a sprinkling of Benham's most -socially gifted spirits, at little tables holding six -or eight. A reception was to follow, to which the -rest of her acquaintance was invited to meet the -investigators of social problems. At this there -was to be a vaudeville performance by artists from -New York, after which, before supper, six of -Benham's prettiest and most fashionable girls were to -pass around, as keepsakes for the visitors, silver -ornaments reminiscent of Benham in their shape -or design. Mrs. Wilson was not wholly satisfied -with this programme; she was conscious that it -lacked complete novelty and was not ęsthetically -so convincing as some of her previous efforts; but -considering the numbers to be fed—and she was -determined that these thoughtful pilgrims should -taste delicious food faultlessly served for once in -their lives—she could think of no more subtle -form of hospitality which would give them the -opportunity to realize the artistic significance of -her establishment. -</p> - -<p> -There were so many things to be attended to, -a portion of which occurred to her on the spur of -the moment, that Mrs. Wilson had requested her -secretary to make long working hours, and -occasionally, as on this day, to protract them through -the evening. Constance was at her desk in the -room appropriated to her use, which led out of -Mrs. Wilson's study. The door was open, and -where she sat it was easy to distinguish the -conversation which went on there. When Mrs. Wilson -needed her she touched a silver bell far more -melodious in its tone that the squeak of electric -communication. Constance had already exchanged -greetings with her employer's brother and nephew, -whose random dialogue, broken by the digestive -pauses which are apt to occur after a good dinner, -provided a cosey stimulus to Mrs. Wilson's -musings. Mrs. Wilson enjoyed the feeling that -she was in the bosom of her family, and that, at -the same time, absorbed in her cogitations, she -need give no more than a careless ear to the talk -of railroad earnings and other purely masculine -concerns. She was pleased too by the knowledge -that Lucille was coming in a few days to pay her -a visit, bringing her granddaughter and the new -Nicholson baby, a boy. Her new son-in-law also -was coming, and she could not help feeling elated -at the prospect of letting Benham see that the -marriage which ought to have been a failure had -turned out surprisingly well, and that her -daughter was a reputable and somewhat elegant figure -in society—not exactly the woman she had meant -her to be, but immeasurably superior to what she -had at one time feared. She was aware in her -heart that logically, according to her standards, -Lucille was not a person to be made much of -socially, and yet she intended her and her husband -to be a feature of her entertainment, and she felt -sure that her acquaintance would regard them as -such. Though the inconsistency troubled her, -inducing, if she stopped to think, spiritual qualms, -maternal instinct jealously stifled reflection, and, -furthermore, pursuing its natural bent, was -rejoicing in the opportunity. Once, when interrogated -sharply by conscience, in the watches of the -night, she had satisfied her intelligence by answering -back that her behavior was ostrich-like but -human. Since the rest of her world failed to turn -a cold shoulder on Lucille, was it for her to -withhold the welcome befitting an only child? -</p> - -<p> -Paul Howard was now a Congressman-elect. -His canvass for the nomination the previous -autumn had been successful, and the rumors in -circulation as to the sum which he had paid over to -his manager to accomplish this result by methods -more or less savoring of bribery, were still rife. -These had reached Paul's ears, and he was unable -to deny that the most sensational figures were far -in excess of the actual truth. Concerning the rest -of the indictment, he could say literally that he -knew nothing definite. He had drawn checks and -asked no questions. But in his secret soul he had -no doubts as to its substantial accuracy, and after -the first flush of victory was over the edge of his -self-satisfaction had been dulled by regret at the -moral price which he had been obliged to pay in -order to become a Congressman. Yet he had -comforted himself with the thought that otherwise he -could not have won the nomination, and that he -intended to become an exemplary and useful -member. So by this time he had ceased to dwell -on the irretrievable and was enjoying the -consciousness that he was to go to Washington, where -he hoped to make his mark. Who could tell? -With his means and popularity he might eventually -become a United States Senator, or secure -some desirable diplomatic appointment. -</p> - -<p> -Paul had been spending a few days in New -York, and personal business matters formed at -first the topic of conversation between the two -men. When presently the younger inquired if -anything of general interest had happened in -Benham during his absence, his father frowned and -said: -</p> - -<p> -"That man Perry is pressing his socialistic -legacy tax bill." -</p> - -<p> -Paul looked interested. He understood the -allusion, for shortly previous to his departure for -New York, in consequence of his father's animadversions, -he had taken occasion to see Gordon and -to discuss the question with him. -</p> - -<p> -"I object to the principle; it's an entering -wedge," continued Mr. Howard. "When you say -that because I leave a larger estate than you, my -estate shall pay a larger proportionate tax than -yours, you confiscate property. It is only another -step to make the ratio of increase such that after -a certain sum all will be appropriated by the -state. It would be a blow at individual enterprise, -and so at the stability of the family. If you -deprive men of the right to accumulate and to -leave to their children the full fruits of their -industry and brains, you take away the great -incentive to surmount obstacles and to excel." -</p> - -<p> -The banker in broaching the subject had -uttered Gordon's name with denunciatory clearness, -so that Constance heard it distinctly. Her -spirit rose in protest at the condemning tone, and -she paused in her occupation to listen. As -Mr. Howard proceeded she recognized the character -of his grievance. In the last letter Gordon had -written her, now more than a month previous, he -had mentioned the fact that he was interested in -the success of what he termed the progressive -legacy tax bill, and she had closely followed its -course in the legislature. She knew that the -committee to which it was referred had reported in -its favor by a majority of one; she had also -gathered, from what she read in the newspapers, that -it was regarded as the most important public -measure of the session, and was to be hotly -debated. While she sought to smother her personal -feelings, so that she might give due consideration -to Mr. Howard's argument, he paused, and Paul's -voice retorted: -</p> - -<p> -"I mentioned the one hundred per cent. argument -to Gordon Perry, and he smiled at it. -He said that so unreasonable and oppressive an -extreme was out of the question, and a mere -bogy." -</p> - -<p> -"Will he guarantee it?" demanded the banker -sternly. "He cannot; he can answer only for the -legislative body of which he is a member. If the -present bill passes, why may not an Assembly -twenty-five years hence declare that the public -good—meaning the necessary tax levy for the expenses -of an extravagant socialistic republic—demands -that all which any man dies possessed of in excess -of half a million dollars should, by the operation -of a sliding scale of percentage, be confiscated by -the State?" -</p> - -<p> -"But on the other hand is it really unjust to -tax the estate of one, who dies possessed of a -fortune larger than is sufficient to satisfy every -craving of his heirs, considerably more in -proportion than that of the citizen of moderate means -whose children need every dollar? That is what -Don Perry would answer. Moreover, this bill is -tolerably easy on the children of the rich, is rather -more severe on brothers and sisters than on lineal -descendants, and so on through the family tree. -The people who inherit millions from a cousin are -scarcely to be pitied if the State steps in and takes -a respectable slice." -</p> - -<p> -"To hear you talk one would imagine you were -a supporter of the measure," said his father -haughtily, recognizing Paul's proclivity to take the -opposite side of an argument, but evidently -regarding the subject as too serious for economic -philandering. -</p> - -<p> -Paul laughed. "I suppose I should vote against -it on general principles—meaning that it's best to -hold on to what one has as long as possible. But -it's one of the sanest attempts to get at the surplus -accumulations of the prosperous for the benefit of -everybody else which has thus far been devised. -Indeed, we're not pioneers in this—in fact, rather -behind the times as a democratic nation. It has -been introduced already with success, for instance, -in the republic of Switzerland, and in Australia -and New Zealand." -</p> - -<p> -Mr. Howard made a gesture of impatience. -"Very likely. The two last-named countries are -the hot-bed of socialistic experiments. Will you -tell me," he added, with slow emphasis, "what -society is to gain by disintegrating large fortunes -acquired by energy and thrift? I myself have -given away three million dollars for hospitals, -libraries, and educational endowments in the last -ten years. Will the State make a better use of the -surplus, as you call it?" -</p> - -<p> -"The trouble is, father, that some multi-millionaires -are less generous than you. Evidently the -State is of the opinion that the returns would foot -up larger under a compulsory law than under the -present voluntary system." -</p> - -<p> -"Up to this time personal individuality has been -the distinguishing trait of the American people. -I believe that the nation has too much sense to -sacrifice the rights of the individual to——" -</p> - -<p> -He paused, seeking the fit phrase to express his -meaning, and was glibly anticipated by Paul. -</p> - -<p> -"To the envious demands of the mob. That is -one way of putting it. Gordon Perry's statement -would be that society has reached the point where -the so-called vested rights of the individual must -now and again be sacrificed on the altar of the -common good, and that a moderate bill like this -is the modern scientific method of rehabilitating -the meaning of the word justice." -</p> - -<p> -Unable to see the disputants, but listening with -all her ears, Constance recognized the argument. -The common good! Here was the same issue -between the individual on one side and the -community on the other; and this time Gordon was -the champion of the State against the individual. -Clearly he acknowledged the obligation—the -soundness of the principle provided that the -sacrifice would redound to the benefit of civilization. -Yet the same mind which demanded a progressive -legacy tax bill in the name of human justice -rejected an inflexible mandate against remarriage as -a cruel infringement on the rights of two souls as -against the world. There could be only one -explanation of the inconsistency; namely, that he -believed profoundly that such a mandate was not -for the common good. She knew this already, yet -somehow its presentation in this parallel form -struck her imagination. While thus she mused -Constance heard Mr. Howard say in response to -Paul's last sally: -</p> - -<p> -"I request that you will not entrust to that -young man any more of the firm's business. I -prefer an attorney with less speculative ambitions." -</p> - -<p> -Paul laughed again. "As you will, father. -Gordon Perry has all the practice he can attend to -without ours. He is hopelessly on his feet so far -as our disapproval—or even a boycott—is concerned." -</p> - -<p> -"And his bill will not pass," said the banker, -with the concise assurance of one who knows -whereof he is speaking, and is conscious of reserve -power. "I have sent for the chairman of our -State Committee." -</p> - -<p> -"If the party is against it, you know I am a -good party man, father." -</p> - -<p> -"It isn't a question of party. It goes deeper -than that; it's fundamental. I've arranged for a -conference——" -</p> - -<p> -At this point Mr. Howard saw fit to lower his -voice. It was evident to Constance that he was -imparting secrets, and revealing the machinations -by which he expected to defeat or side-track the -obnoxious measure. If only she could hear and -warn Gordon! But what they said was no longer -audible. The men's talk had dropped to an -inarticulate murmur, which continued for a few -moments, and then was interrupted by Mrs. Wilson's -dulcet tones. The change of key had attracted -her attention, which already in subconsciousness -had followed the thread of the dialogue, though -her deliberate thoughts were far away. -</p> - -<p> -"I have been listening to you two people," she -said aloud, "and it is an interesting theme. I -agree with you, my dear Paul, academically; as -an eventual sociological development the surplus -should be appropriated for the public good. But -I wonder if we are quite ready for it yet. In -other words, can the community—the State—the -mass be trusted to administer the revenues thus -acquired so as to produce more wholesome and -beneficent results for the general weal than are -now being fostered by the wealthy and enlightened -humanitarian few under the existing laws? -In the present stage of our civilization might not -the standards of efficiency be lowered by such a -policy, and the true development of art and beauty -be arrested? There is my doubt." -</p> - -<p> -Her brother's response had the ring of an -epigram. "To the end of time, Miriam, human -affairs must be managed by the capable few, or the -many will suffer. If you deprive able men of the -power of accumulation, the price of bread will -soon be dearer." -</p> - -<p> -"And what the many hope for sooner or later -is free champagne," remarked Paul. -</p> - -<p> -Neither of his elders replied to this quizzical -utterance, and there was a brief silence. Then -Mrs. Wilson stepped to the doorway of the -anteroom and told Constance that she did not require -her services further that evening. She had -suddenly remembered the former intimacy between -her secretary and the protagonist of the bill. -</p> - -<p> -For the next week Constance diligently studied -the newspapers for information in regard to the -mooted measure. The entire community seemed -suddenly aroused to the significance of the issue, -and the daily press teemed with reading matter in -relation thereto. The debate on the occasion of -the second reading of the bill was the most -protracted and earnest of the session. As Mr. Howard -had intimated, it was not strictly a party -measure; that is, it found advocates and opponents -among the members of each of the two great -political parties; only the so-called socialistic -contingent gave it undivided support. But developments -soon revealed that nearly all the conservative, -eminently respectable members of the party to -which Mr. Carleton Howard belonged were lining -up in opposition to the bill on one plea or another. -It was denounced by some as dangerous, by others, -as unconstitutional; numerous amendments were -offered in order to kill it by exaggerating its -radical features or to render it innocuous. Constance -imagined that she could discern the master hand -of the banker in the fluctuations of sentiment, in -some of the editorials, and in the solemn resolutions -of certain commercial bodies. -</p> - -<p> -It was at the third reading of the bill that -Gordon made his great speech—great from the point -of view of the friends of the measure, because it -set forth without undue excitement and superfluous -oratory the essential soundness and justice -of their cause. A packed house listened in -absorbed silence to the forceful, concise presentation. -On the morrow the rival merits of the controversy -were still more eagerly bruited throughout the -State. Constance could restrain herself no longer. -Her lover was being stigmatized by the lips of -many as an enemy of established society, yet she -must not go to him and show her admiration and -her faith. But she would write—just a line to -let him know that she understood what he was -attempting, and that she was on his side in the -struggle for the common good against individualism -and the pride of wealth. By way of answer -there came next day merely a bunch of forget-me-nots -addressed to her in his handwriting. She -pressed the dainty yet humble flowers to her lips, -then placed them in her breast. They seemed to -express better than the pomp of roses his steadfast -allegiance to her and to humanity. -</p> - -<p> -The days of the debate were those just preceding -the coming of the pilgrims belonging to the -Society for the Discussion of Social Problems. -Constance's most formal duties in connection -therewith had already been performed, but -Mrs. Wilson kept her constantly at hand lest new ideas -should occur to her or emergencies arise. Besides -there were numerous minor details relating to the -august entertainment on the final evening which -demanded supervision. Constance was very busy, -but in her heart the query was ever rising, Will -he win? She had learned that the bill had been -put over for three days, and that the vote on its -passage was to be taken on the date of Mrs. Wilson's -festivity, probably in the late afternoon, as -there was certain to be further discussion before -the roll was called. -</p> - -<p> -The four days' exercises of the Society consisted -of the reading of papers on current national -problems, one series in the morning, another in -the evening, with opportunities for general -comment. The afternoons were devoted to recreation -and the visiting of points of local interest, such -as the oil yards, pork factories, and other -commercial plants across the Nye to which Benham owed -its growth and vitality; to Wetmore College, the -Institution of learning for the higher education of -women; and to the new public library and Silas -S. Parsons free hospital. Mrs. Wilson was an -absorbed and prominent figure at all the meetings. -She had no paper of her own to read, but on two -occasions she made a few remarks on the topic -before the Society when the moment for discussion -arrived. On the third day, moreover, at the end -of the paper on "The Development of Art in the -United States," the president rose and made the -announcement of a gift of five hundred thousand -dollars from Mrs. Randolph Wilson and her -brother for the erection of a Free Art Museum for -Benham on the land already bonded by the city. -Constance had the satisfaction of hearing the -applause which greeted the declaration of this -splendid endowment. Mrs. Wilson had made it -possible for her to attend several of the meetings as -educational opportunities, but she had received no -inkling of this interesting secret. -</p> - -<p> -Late in the afternoon of the next day, that fixed -for the entertainment and for the ballot on -Gordon's bill, Constance was informed by the butler -that there was a woman below who desired to see -her. The man's manner prompted her to make -some inquiry, and she learned that the visitor was -Loretta Davis; that she had asked first for -Mrs. Wilson, and on being told that she was out had -asked for herself. The servant volunteered the -further information that she appeared to be in a -disorderly condition, and that, but for his -mistress's special interest in her, he would not have -admitted her to the house. -</p> - -<p> -Constance went downstairs excited that the -wanderer had returned, yet reflecting that she had -chosen a most untimely date for her reappearance. -She said to herself that she would take a cab, -bundle Loretta off to Lincoln Chambers, and -conceal the fact of her presence in Benham from -Mrs. Wilson until the following day. As she entered -the small reception-room, she was shocked by -Loretta's appearance. She looked as though she had -lived ten years in one. Her cheeks were sunken, -her eyes unnaturally bright, and her face wore -the aspect of degenerate dissipation. She was -more conspicuously dressed than her circumstances -warranted, and her clothes appeared crumpled. -But her air was jaunty, and she met Constance's -solicitous greeting with an appalling gaiety. -</p> - -<p> -"Well, I'm back again. I hear you've been -hunting for me. I suppose you'll want to know all -about it, so I might as well tell you my money's -gone. Some of it I lent to my friend—him I -went back to—and the rest is spent. We've been -in Chicago and New York, and—and I've had -the time of my life." -</p> - -<p> -She evidently hoped to shock Constance by this -bravado; but distressed as the latter was by the -painful levity, she took for granted that Loretta -was not herself, and that though her speech was -fluent she was under the influence of some -stimulant, presumably the drug which Dr. Dale had -specified. While she was wondering how to deal -with the situation and what could be the object of -Loretta's visit, the latter supplied the solution to -her second quandary. -</p> - -<p> -"I've seen all about the big party she's giving -to-night. That's why I've come." She paused a -moment, then continued in a cunning whisper, as -though she were afraid of unfriendly ears: "I -want to get a chance to see it—the folk, I mean, -and the smart dresses. Lord sake," she added, -noticing doubtless the consternation in her hearer's -face, "I do believe you thought I was asking to -come as one of the four hundred myself. Thanks, -but I've left my new ball dress at home. They -can tuck me in somewhere behind a curtain; I'd -be quiet; or I'd dress as a maid. Manage it for -me, Constance, like a decent woman." Her voice -cracked a little, and her eyes filled with tears, -suggesting a tipsy person. Then suddenly her -manner changed; she squared her shoulders and said -malevolently, "I'm going to see it anyway. It's -a small thing to ask of her who helped to kill my -only child." -</p> - -<p> -It was a small thing to ask certainly, absurd as -the request seemed. Constance reflected that, -inopportune as the application was, the decision, as -Loretta had intimated, did not rest with her. -</p> - -<p> -"I will ask Mrs. Wilson, Loretta," she said, to -gain time to think. "She will be home before -long." -</p> - -<p> -At that moment the lady named entered the -room. The butler had told her who her visitor -was, and she had not avoided the interview. She -had just come from an afternoon tea given in -honor of the visiting pilgrims, and was attired in -her most elegant costume. Loretta's eyes, as they -took in the exquisite details of her appearance, -dilated with the interest of fascination, yet their -gleam was envious rather than friendly. Beholding -the two women face to face, Constance, struck -by the contrast, realized that they represented the -two poles of the social system; that the one -embodied aspiration, the graces of Christian -civilization and glittering success, the other -self-indulgence, moral decay, and hideous failure. Such -were the prizes of deference to, and the penalties -of revolt against, the mandates of society! Yet -even as she thus reasoned her heart was wrung -with intense pity, and it was she who offered -herself as a spokesman and laid Loretta's petition -before Mrs. Wilson. That lady's face was a study -during the brief recital. Bewilderment, horrified -repugnance, toleration, and finally hesitating -acquiescence succeeded one another as she listened to -the strange request and to her secretary's willingness -to take charge of her discreditable ward if -the permission to remain were granted. Obnoxious -as the idea of having such a person in the house -at this time of all others appeared to her at first -blush, Mrs. Wilson's philanthropic instincts -speedily responded to the demand upon them in spite -of its obvious and vulgar sensationalism. She, -like Constance, found herself asking why she need -refuse such a small favor to this unfortunate -creature merely because the supplication was so -distasteful to her. If Constance were ready to -see that she did not make a spectacle of herself, -and would keep an eye on her, why, after all, -should she not remain? Might not the sight of -the brilliant, refined spectacle even serve to -reinspire her with respect for the decencies of life? -Mrs. Wilson's imagination snatched at the hope. -Consent could not possibly do harm to anyone, and -it might be a means of reclaiming this erring -creature. -</p> - -<p> -Constance perceived how her employer's mind -was working, and she made the course of -acquiescence smooth by saying: -</p> - -<p> -"We will sit together, Mrs. Wilson, where we -can see and no one can see us. And in return for -your consideration," she added meaningly, "Loretta -agrees to conduct herself as a lady—in such -a manner as not to offend anyone by her behavior -so long as she is in this house." -</p> - -<p> -"Very well," said Mrs. Wilson. "I am very -glad to give my permission. You know what -Constance means, Loretta?" -</p> - -<p> -Loretta nodded feverishly. "I shall be all -right," she said. She understood that they -referred to her habits, and she was willing enough -to guarantee good behavior, for she knew that -she had the assurance of it in her own pocket—a -small hypodermic syringe, the use of which would -steady her nerves for the time being. It was with -an exultant intention of enjoying herself to the -uttermost, and of fooling her hostess to the top -of her bent, that after Constance had shown her -to a room that she might put herself to rights, -Loretta jabbed herself with the needle again and -again in pursuit of forbidden transport. -</p> - -<p> -An hour later when Loretta was asleep under -the eye of a maid, Constance found time to -consider how she could ascertain the result of the -ballot, the haunting suspense as to which had kept -her heart in her mouth all day. She lay in wait -for the evening newspaper, but she ransacked its -columns in vain, as she had feared would be the -case. Evidently the vote had been taken too late -for publication. While she stood in the hall -trying to muster courage to call up one of the -newspaper offices on the telephone and ask the -question—which would assuredly be a piece of -impertinence on the part of an unimportant person -like herself—she heard the ring of the front door -bell. When the butler answered it the commanding -figure of Mr. Carleton Howard appeared in -the vestibule and from the shadow of the staircase -she heard him say with jubilant distinctness, -"You will tell Mrs. Wilson, James, that the -progressive legacy tax bill was killed this afternoon -by a majority of three votes. Reconsideration -was asked for and refused; consequently the -measure is dead for this session." -</p> - -<p> -Constance experienced that sinking feeling -which a great and sudden disappointment is apt -to bring. She had taken for granted that -Gordon would win; that he would get the better of -his opponents in the end, despite their endeavors, -and gain a glorious victory for humanity and -himself. Instead he had been crushed by his enemies, -and was tasting the bitterness of defeat. He would -bear it bravely, she did not question that, but how -depressing to see the cause in behalf of which all -his energies had been enlisted defeated by the -narrowest margin on the very verge of success. -</p> - -<p> -She remained for some moments as though -rooted to the spot. As poor Loretta had once -said, it is love which makes the world go round, -and the world had suddenly stopped for her. She -ascended the stairs like one in a trance and closed -the door of her room. What would her sympathy -profit him? How would it help him to know that -her heart bled for him? Such condolence would -be only tantalization. What he desired was -herself—to possess and cherish in the soul and in -the flesh—as the partner of his joys and sorrows, -his helpmate and his companion. From where -she sat she could behold herself in her mirror the -comely embodiment of a woman in her prime, -alive with energy and health. He sighed to hold -her in his arms, and she would fain kiss away the -disappointment of his defeat. Anything short of -this would be mockery for him—yes, for her. -They were natural mates, for they loved each -other with the enthusiasm of mature sympathy. -Yet they must go their ways apart, because the -Church forbade in the name of Christ for the -so-called common good. How could it be for the -common good to resist nature, when she knew in -her heart that in obeying the law of her being she -would feel no sense of shame or blame? On the -one side was the fiat of the Church, and on the -other the sanction of the people—of human society -struggling for light and liberty against -superstition and authority. That was Gordon's claim; -yet he was no demagogue, no irreverent materialist. -What would her own father have said—the -country doctor whose sympathy with humanity -was so profound? She felt sure that he would -have swept aside the Church's argument in such a -case as this as untenable. What was it held her -back? The taunt that in obeying the law of her -being she would be letting go her hold on the -highest spiritual life, that most precious ambition -of her soul, and forsaking the Christ whose -followers had comforted her and lifted her up. -</p> - -<p> -As thus she mused she heard Loretta stirring. -She had arranged as a precaution that they should -occupy chambers which opened into each other, -and it behooved her now to pay attention to -her—to see that she was suitably attired and to -supervise her movements. When they were dressed she -exhibited to her the large dining-room set with -little tables, and afforded her a peep at the guests -as they swept in. Later Loretta and she looked -down from a small balcony filled with plants on -the splendid company assembling in the music-room. -Her charge was completely absorbed by -the pageant, asking at first eager questions, which -Constance answered with mechanical scrupulousness, -for to her in spite of the brilliant scene the -world seemed far away, and she still dwelt as in -a trance. As soon as Loretta recognized Lucille, -who in the most stunning of Parisian gowns was -assisting her mother to receive, she became -nervously agitated, and after surveying her for a few -moments she nudged her companion and said, -"What did I tell you? Hasn't her marriage -turned out all right, and isn't everybody at her -feet? You might be down there with the rest of -them to-night, if you'd only taken my advice." -</p> - -<p> -The words brought Constance back to her -immediate surroundings, but as she became aware -that Loretta was thrusting in her face the fact of -Lucille's triumphant presence, she realized that it -had already been a significant item in her nebulous -consciousness. But she laid her hand gently on -the offender's arm and said, "Sh! No matter -about that now. Remember your promise." Loretta -grunted. She paid heed to the extent of -changing her tone to a whisper, but murmured by -way of having the last word, "It's unjust that you -shouldn't be there; it's unjust." Then she became -silent; but every little while during the evening -she repeated under her breath the same phrase, as -though it were a formula. -</p> - -<p> -Constance remembered subsequently that as the -evening advanced Loretta ceased to ask questions -and grew strangely silent, seeming to follow with -her eyes every movement of Mrs. Wilson, who in -a costume of maroon-colored velvet set off by -superb jewels and a tiara of large diamonds, swept -with easy grace hither and thither in her endeavor -as hostess to make the blending between the -pilgrims and Benham's social leaders an agreeable -experience for all. -</p> - -<p> -It was in truth a notable entertainment; the -guests appeared pleased and appreciative; there -were no hitches; the music evoked enthusiasm, -the supper was delicious, and the closing -distribution of trinkets by Benham's fairest -daughters came as a delightful surprise to the departing -seekers after truth. But all save the consciousness -that she was facing a gay scene and was fulfilling -her responsibilities was lost on Constance. -She did not know until the next day that the -entertainment had been a great success, for, oblivious -to the music, the lights, and the brilliantly dressed -assembly, her soul was wrestling once more with -the problem which she had supposed solved -forever. It was nearly one o'clock when the murmur -of voices died away, and she conducted Loretta -to their mutual apartment. She was glad that her -charge showed no disposition to talk over the -events of the evening, but on the contrary -undressed in silence, busy with her own reflections. -Having seen her safely in bed, Constance straightway -sat down at her desk and wrote. It was a -short, hasty note, for she was bent on posting it -that night before the lights in the house were -extinguished. Throwing a cloak about her, she -glided downstairs, and, with a word of warning -to the butler that he might not lock her out, -sought the letter-box which was less than a -hundred yards distant. She had not chosen to trust -her epistle to any other hands. As she lifted the -iron shutter she paused for a moment, then with -a joyful little sigh she dropped it in and let go. -Fifteen minutes later, like a happy, tired child, -and wondering what the morrow would bring, she -escaped from reality into the waiting arms of -sleep. -</p> - -<p> -But Mrs. Randolph Wilson was in no haste to -go to bed. She was in a complacent mood. -Everything had gone off as she intended, and it -suited her to dwell in retrospect on the incidents -of the festivity, and to muse fancy free. Lucille -had kissed her good-night and had retired. She -had let her maid loosen her dress and had -dismissed her for the night. She was inclined to -dally; she liked the silence and the sense of calm -after the activities of the day. -</p> - -<p> -Seated at her toilet table and looking into her -mirror with her cheeks resting upon her hands, -she gazed introspectively at herself and destiny. -Her tiara of diamonds still crested her forehead. -Somehow it pleased her to leave it undisturbed -until she was ready to let down her hair. She -was conscious that she had reached the age when -she preferred to see herself at her best rather than -in the garb of nature's disorder. It had been one -of the eventful evenings of her life; she felt that -by her efforts mind and matter had been drawn -closer together without detriment to either. And -everybody had been extremely civil to Lucille, at -which she could not help rejoicing. Certainly, -too, Lucille was acquiring more social charm and -was more anxious to please people of cultivation. -Then, too, her brother had appeared in his most -engaging mood as a consequence of the defeat of -the legacy tax bill. No reason for doubting her -conclusion that the passage of the measure would -have been premature under existing conditions -had occurred to her; so it seemed that society had -been saved from a mistake. Altogether the -immediate present was marred by no unpleasant -memory but one. As to that, she felt that she had -acted indulgently, and that on the morrow she -would make a last effort to rescue the unhappy -degenerate. As she surveyed herself in the glass -she appreciated that she was well preserved and -that her grizzled hair was becoming, but that the -romance of life was over. She would never marry -again; she was unequivocally middle-aged. Ideas -were what she had left; but for this great interest -she had many years of strength and activity ahead -of her. -</p> - -<p> -Ideas! How absorbing they were, and yet how -little the most disinterested individual could -accomplish! Truth looked so near, and yet ever -seemed to recede as one approached it. Men and -women came and went, generations lived and died, -but progress, like the march of the glaciers, was -to be measured by the centuries. The inequalities -of life—how hideous were they still; how far from -rectification, in spite of priests and charity! What -was the key to the riddle? Where was the open -sesame to the social truth which should be -universal beauty? She was seeking it with all her -soul, but she would never find it. Deep in the -womb of time it lay, a magnet, yet inscrutable. -Who would unearth it? Would it baffle mankind -forever? or would centuries hence some -searcher—perhaps a woman like herself—discern and -reveal it? -</p> - -<p> -Pensive with her speculation, she turned her -eyes, wistful with their yearning to pierce the -mysteries of time, full upon the mirror, and started. -An apparition, a woman's face, cunning, resentful, -demon-like, was there beside her own; a -woman's figure crouching, stealthy, about to -spring was stealing toward her. Was it a vision, -an uncanny creature of the brain? Instinctively -she turned, and as she did so a large pair of -hands gleamed in her face and reached for her -neck. Springing up with a cry of horror, she -recoiled from the threatening fingers, but in another -instant she was bent backward so that her head -pressed against the glass and she felt a powerful -clutch upon her throat which took away the power -to scream, and made her eyes feel as though they -were bursting from their sockets. A voice, exultant, -cruel, yet like a revivalist's chant, rang in -her ears. -</p> - -<p> -"I've come for you. We'll go together, down -to eternity. There you will scrub dirty marble -floors for ever and ever." -</p> - -<p> -In the face in the mirror Mrs. Wilson had -recognized Loretta, and she divined, as the wild -figure threw itself upon her and the strong -hands gripped her windpipe, that she was -contending with a mad-woman. The import of the -strange, accusing words was unmistakable; it was -a struggle for life. Powerless to give the alarm -save by inarticulate gasps, she realized that only -her own strength could avail her, and that this -must fail owing to the superior hold which her -assailant had established. She strove with all her -might to wrench herself free, but in vain. The -long hands squeezed like a vise, and she was -choking. She felt her senses swim, and that she was -about to faint. Then with a rush a third figure -intervened; someone else's hands were battling on -her side, and in an instant she was free. -</p> - -<p> -Awaking suddenly, as one who is sleeping on -guard often will, Constance had felt an instinct -that something was wrong. The turning on of -the electric light revealed that Loretta's bed was -empty. Where had she gone? It seemed improbable -that she had sought to escape from the -house at that hour. Puzzled, she stepped into -the hall and half-way down the staircase. There -as she paused the light shining from under -Mrs. Wilson's apartment on the landing below caught -her eye. The next moment she heard a muffled -scream. -</p> - -<p> -It had required all her strength and weight to -tear Loretta from her victim. Having succeeded -in separating them, Constance hastily put herself -on the defensive, expecting a fresh attack; but -Loretta, panting from her exertions, stood facing -them for a moment, then burst into a strident, -gleeful laugh. -</p> - -<p> -"You've saved her," she cried. "I'm crazy—stark -crazy, I guess. What was it I said? I -was going to take her where she'd have to scrub -dirty marble floors forever and ever. I'd like to -save her soul, she tried so hard to save mine. But -it was time thrown away from the start. I was -born bad—a moral pervert, as the doctors call it. -Christianity was wasted on me." -</p> - -<p> -She shook her head, and looked from one -to the other. They, horrified but spellbound, -waited, uncertain what course to pursue. Mrs. Wilson, -now that she had partially recovered her -poise, felt the impulse to elucidate this horrifying -mystery. But though she wished to speak, the -proper language did not suggest itself. How -could one discuss causes with a mad woman? She -raised her hands to put in place the tiara which -had been crushed down on her brow. -</p> - -<p> -"Look at her," cried Loretta, commandingly, -addressing Constance and pointing. "Isn't she -beautiful? She's civilization." She made a low -obeisance. "I was in love with her once; I love -her still. You saved her." -</p> - -<p> -She frowned and passed her hand across her -forehead as though to clear her brain. Then she -laughed again; she had recovered her clew. -</p> - -<p> -"You were the sort she could help, Constance -Stuart; you were good. But how has she—her -church—paid you back? Cheated you with a -gold brick. Ha! Made you believe that it was -your Christian duty to let Gordon Perry, Esq., -Counsellor-at-Law, go. That's the way the -aristocrats still try to fool the common people. But -isn't she beautiful? My compliments to both of -you." -</p> - -<p> -She swept a low courtesy in exaggeration of -those she had witnessed a few hours earlier. "It -is pitiful—pitiful and perplexing," murmured -Mrs. Wilson in agonized dismay. -</p> - -<p> -For a moment Loretta stood irresolute, then -of a sudden she began to shiver like one seized -with an ague. She regarded them distractedly -with staring eyes, and throwing up her hands, fell -forward on her face in convulsive delirium. -Constance rushed to her side; the two women raised -her and laid her on the bed. Mrs. Wilson's maid -was aroused, and a physician communicated with -by telephone. He came within an hour and -prescribed the necessary treatment. He said that the -patient's system was saturated with cocaine, but -intimated that she would probably recover from -this attack. -</p> - -<p> -After the doctor had gone and Loretta had -been removed to her own room, Mrs. Wilson and -Constance watched by the side of the sufferer, -whose low moaning was the sole disturber of the -stillness of the breaking dawn. Each was lost in -her own secret thoughts. The cruel finger-marks -on Mrs. Wilson's neck burned painfully, but the -words of her mad critic had seared her soul. For -the moment social truth seemed sadly remote. She -reflected mournfully but humbly that ever and -anon proud man and his systems are held up to -derision by the silent forces of nature. When the -darkness had faded so that they could discern each -other's faces, she arose, and sitting down beside -Constance on the sofa drew her toward her and -kissed her. Was it in acknowledgment that she -had saved her life, or as a symbol of a broader -faith? -</p> - -<p> -"Kiss me too, Constance," she whispered. -</p> - -<p> -The embrace was fondly returned, and at this -loosening of the tension of their strained spirits -they wept gently in each other's arms. Then -Mrs. Wilson added, "Come, let us go where we can -talk. We could do nothing at present which my -maid cannot do." -</p> - -<p> -She led the way to her boudoir. The idea of -seeking sleep had never occurred to either of them. -Although Mrs. Wilson had felt the need of -speech, it was some minutes after they had -established themselves before she broke the silence. -When she did so she spoke suddenly and with -emotion, like one beset by a repugnant conviction -yet loath to acknowledge it. -</p> - -<p> -"Can I have deserved this, Constance?" The -vivid protest in her companion's face made clear -that Constance did not penetrate her subtler -meaning, and she hastened to answer her own -question. -</p> - -<p> -"Not to be strangled by a violent lunatic," she -said, raising a hand involuntarily to her neck. -"But her words were a judgment—a lacerating -judgment. How I should loathe it—to scrub -dirty marble floors forever and ever. It is just -that—the dirt, the disorder, the common reek, -which I shrink from and shun in spite of myself. -How did she ever find out? I love too much the -lusciousness of life. -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - 'It is the little rift within the lute<br /> - That by and by will make the music mute,<br /> - And ever widening slowly silence all.'<br /> -</p> - -<p class="noindent"> -Do you not see, Constance?" -</p> - -<p> -Leaning forward with clasped hands and -speaking with melodious pathos while the morning -light rested on her tired but interesting face, -her confession had the effect of a monologue save -for its final question. And Constance, listening -understood. In truth, this cry of the soul at bay -came as a quickener to her own surging emotions, -and she realized that the walls of the temple of -beauty had fallen like those of Jericho at the -trumpets of Israel. Yet though she understood -and saw starkly revealed the limit of the gospel -of the splendor of things, with all the purging of -perplexities which that meant for her, the claims -of gratitude and of unabated admiration no less -than pity caused her to shrink from immediate -acquiescence in her patron's self-censure. And as -she hesitated for the proper antidote, Mrs. Wilson -pursued her confession relentlessly—pursued -it, however, as one who recites the weakness of a -cause to which she is hopelessly committed. -</p> - -<p> -"One is spurred to refine and refine and refine,—does -not even religion—my religion—so teach -us?—the spirit ostensibly, and, in order to reach -the spirit, the body; and in this age of things and -of great possessions one reaches greedily after the -quintessence of comfort until—until one needs -some shock like this to perceive that one might -become—perhaps is, an intellectual sybarite. Nay, -more; though we crave almost by instinct individual -lustre and personal safety, reaching out for -luxury that we may grow superfine, must not -we—we American women with ideals—mistrust the -social beauty of a universe which still produces -the masses and all the horrors of life? Can it -fundamentally avail that a few should be exquisite -and have radiant thoughts, if the rest are -condemned to a coarse, unlovely heritage?" -</p> - -<p> -Not only did gratitude reassert itself as Constance -listened to this speculative plaint, but protesting -common sense as well, which recognized -the morbidness of the thought without ignoring its -cogency. -</p> - -<p> -"Ah, you exaggerate; you are unjust to yourself," -she exclaimed fervidly. "You must not -overlook what your influence and example have -been to me and many others. I owe you so much! more -than I can ever repay. It was you who -opened the garden of life to me." -</p> - -<p> -Mrs. Wilson started at the tense, spontaneous -apostrophe, and the color mounted to her cheeks. -Never had so grateful a tribute been laid at her -feet as this in the hour of tribulation. And as she -gazed she felt that she had a right to be proud of -the noble-looking, the sophisticated woman who -held out to her these refreshing laurels. -</p> - -<p> -"And it is not that I do not comprehend—that -I do not share your qualms," Constance continued, -ignoring the gracious look that she might express -herself completely in this crucial hour. The time -had come to utter her own secret, which she felt -to be the most eloquent of revolts against the -mystic superfineness she had just heard deprecated. -"Within the last twelve hours the scales have -fallen from my eyes also, and what seemed to -me truth is no longer truth. There is something -I wish to tell you, Mrs. Wilson. Yesterday -afternoon I heard that the legacy tax bill had been -defeated; last night before I went to bed I posted -a letter to Gordon Perry informing him that I -would be his wife. I have asked him to come to -see me at Lincoln Chambers this morning." -</p> - -<p> -Mrs. Wilson's lip trembled. Genuine as was -her probing of self, this flank attack from one who -just now had brought balm to her wounds and -cheer to her soul was a fresh and vivid shock. To -feel that this other ward, whom she had deemed -so safe, was about to slip from her fingers was -more than she could bear. Then instinctively -Constance went to her and put her arm around -her. "I am sorry to hurt you," she said tenderly, -"but this is a time to speak plainly. I love him, -and I feel that I have been trifling with love. I -am sure at last of this: that it is better for the -world that two people like him and me should be -happy than live apart out of deference to a bond -which is a mere husk. I prefer to be natural and -free rather than exquisite and artificial. As -Gordon said, the ban of the Church when the law gives -one freedom is nothing but a fetich. I cannot -follow the Church in this. To do so would be to -starve my soul for the sake of a false ideal—a false -beauty cultivated for the few alone, as you have -intimated, at the expense of the great heart of -humanity. I can no longer be a party to such an -injustice; I must not sacrifice to it the man I -love." -</p> - -<p> -There was a brief silence. Mrs. Wilson, as her -question presently showed, was trying to piece -together cause and effect. -</p> - -<p> -"You wrote to him last night, Constance? -Then this—horror had nothing to do with your -decision?" -</p> - -<p> -"Nothing; I had been on the verge of it for -some time: I can see that now. And when the -news of his defeat came, I felt that I must go to -him if he would let me." -</p> - -<p> -"He will let you, Constance." -</p> - -<p> -"I think so," she answered with a happy thrill. -</p> - -<p> -Mrs. Wilson looked up at her, and observing -the serenity of her countenance, knew that the -issue was settled beyond peradventure. Yet she -was in the mood to be generous as well as humble; -moreover, her inquiring mind had not failed -to notice the plea for humanity and to feel its -force. She sighed gently, then patted the hand -that held hers, and said: -</p> - -<p> -"Perhaps, dear, you are right. At all events, -go now and get some sleep. You must look your -own sweet self when he comes to you." -</p> - -<p> -A few hours later Constance, refreshed by -slumber, was on her way to Lincoln Chambers. -She walked as though on wings, for she knew in -her heart that her lover would not fail her. -Arriving a little before the appointed time, she -dismissed the children to school, and, smiling at fate, -waited for what was to be. At the stroke of the -trysting hour she heard his knock. She bade him -enter, and as their eyes met he folded her in his -arms. -</p> - -<p> -"Gordon!" -</p> - -<p> -"Constance!" -</p> - -<p> -"I have surrendered." She looked up into his -face, bewitching in her happiness. -</p> - -<p class="capcenter"> -<a id="img-472"></a> -<img class="imgcenter" src="images/img-472.jpg" alt=""I have surrendered."" /> -<br /> -"I have surrendered." -</p> - -<p> -"Thank God for that!" -</p> - -<p> -"But I come to you conscience free, Gordon," -she said, drawing back her radiant face so that -he must hear her avowal before his title was -complete. "I would not have you think that I have -compromised or juggled with myself. If I -believed that I should be a whit less pure and -spiritual a woman by becoming your wife, I would -never have sent for you, dearly as I love you." -</p> - -<p> -"And I would not have had you, darling. The -love which is conscious of a stain is a menace to -the world." -</p> - -<p><br /><br /></p> - -<p class="finis"> -THE END -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p class="thought"> -******** -<br /> -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap27"></a></p> - -<p class="t3"> - BY THE SAME AUTHOR -</p> - -<p class="noindent"> - The Undercurrent.<br /> -</p> - -<p class="noindent"> - Unleavened Bread.<br /> -</p> - -<p class="noindent"> - Search-Light Letters.<br /> -</p> - -<p class="noindent"> - The Art of Living.<br /> -</p> - -<p class="noindent"> - The Bachelor's Christmas, and Other Stories.<br /> - With 21 full-page illustrations.<br /> -</p> - -<p class="noindent"> - Reflections of a Married Man.<br /> -</p> - -<p class="noindent"> - The Opinions of a Philosopher.<br /> - Illustrated.<br /> -</p> - -<p class="noindent"> - Face to Face.<br /> -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /><br /></p> - - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Undercurrent, by Robert Grant - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE UNDERCURRENT *** - -***** This file should be named 56310-h.htm or 56310-h.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/6/3/1/56310/ - -Produced by Al Haines -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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