diff options
| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 05:27:08 -0700 |
|---|---|---|
| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 05:27:08 -0700 |
| commit | 1e03d8b39d5a874c8bdca01055ea7f7dcba1d950 (patch) | |
| tree | 63c93889d5e3554623993fba2a51d45c6a42fe3a | |
| -rw-r--r-- | .gitattributes | 3 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 6214-0.txt | 5594 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 6214-0.zip | bin | 0 -> 117149 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 6214-h.zip | bin | 0 -> 122594 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 6214-h/6214-h.htm | 6367 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 6214.txt | 5594 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 6214.zip | bin | 0 -> 116618 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | LICENSE.txt | 11 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | README.md | 2 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/gp41w10.txt | 5673 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/gp41w10.zip | bin | 0 -> 119769 bytes |
11 files changed, 23244 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/6214-0.txt b/6214-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..c0c8378 --- /dev/null +++ b/6214-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,5594 @@ +Project Gutenberg’s The Translation of a Savage, Complete, by Gilbert Parker + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Translation of a Savage, Complete + +Author: Gilbert Parker + +Release Date: October 18, 2006 [EBook #6214] +Last Updated: August 27, 2016 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TRANSLATION OF A SAVAGE, *** + + + +Produced by David Widger + + + + + +THE TRANSLATION OF A SAVAGE, Complete + +By Gilbert Parker + + + +CONTENTS + + Volume 1. + I. HIS GREAT MISTAKE + II. A DIFFICULT SITUATION + III. OUT OF THE NORTH + IV. IN THE NAME OF THE FAMILY + V. AN AWKWARD HALF-HOUR + + Volume 2. + VI. THE PASSING OF THE YEARS + VII. A COURT-MARTIAL + VIII. TO EVERY MAN HIS HOUR + + Volume 3. + IX. THE FAITH OF COMRADES + X. “THOU KNOWEST THE SECRETS OF OUR HEARTS” + XI. UPON THE HIGHWAY + XII. “THE CHASE OF THE YELLOW SWAN” + XIII. A LIVING POEM + XIV. ON THE EDGE OF A FUTURE + XV. THE END OF THE TRAIL + + + + +INTRODUCTION + +The Translation of a Savage was written in the early autumn of 1893, at +Hampstead Heath, where for over twenty years I have gone, now and then, +when I wished to be in an atmosphere conducive to composition. Hampstead +is one of the parts of London which has as yet been scarcely invaded +by the lodging-house keeper. It is very difficult to get apartments at +Hampstead; it is essentially a residential place; and, like Chelsea, has +literary and artistic character all its own. I think I have seen more +people carrying books in their hands at Hampstead than in any other spot +in England; and there it was, perched above London, with eyes looking +towards the Atlantic over the leagues of land and the thousand leagues +of sea, that I wrote ‘The Translation of a Savage’. It was written, as +it were, in one concentrated effort, a ceaseless writing. It was, in +effect, what the Daily Chronicle said of ‘When Valmond Came to Pontiac’, +a tour de force. It belonged to a genre which compelled me to dispose of +a thing in one continuous effort, or the impulse, impetus, and fulness +of movement was gone. The writing of a book of the kind admitted of no +invasion from extraneous sources, and that was why, while writing ‘The +Translation of a Savage’ at Hampstead, my letters were only delivered +to me once a week. I saw no friends, for no one knew where I was; but I +walked the heights, I practised with my golf clubs on the Heath, and I +sat in the early autumn evenings looking out at London in that agony of +energy which its myriad lives represented. It was a good time. + +The story had a basis of fact; the main incident was true. It happened, +however, in Michigan rather than in Canada; but I placed the incident +in Canada where it was just as true to the life. I was living in +Hertfordshire at the time of writing the story, and that is why the +English scenes were worked out in Hertfordshire and in London. When I +had finished the tale, there came over me suddenly a kind of feeling +that the incident was too bold and maybe too crude to be believed, and +I was almost tempted to consign it to the flames; but the editor of +‘The English Illustrated Magazine’, Sir C. Kinloch-Cooke, took a wholly +different view, and eagerly published it. The judgment of the press was +favourable,--highly so--and I was as much surprised as pleased when Mr. +George Moore, in the Hogarth Club one night, in 1894, said to me: “There +is a really remarkable play in that book of yours, ‘The Translation, of +a Savage’.” I had not thought up to that time that my work was of +the kind which would appeal to George Moore, but he was always making +discoveries. Meeting him in Pall Mall one day, he said to me: “My dear +fellow, I have made a great discovery. I have been reading the Old +Testament. It is magnificent. In the mass of its incoherence it has a +series of the most marvellous stories. Do you remember--” etc. Then he +came home and had tea with me, revelling, in the meantime, on having +discovered the Bible! + +I cannot feel that ‘The Translation of a Savage’ has any significance +beyond the truthfulness with which I believe it describes the +transformation, or rather the evolution, of a primitive character into +a character with an intelligence of perception and a sympathy which is +generally supposed to be the outcome of long processes of civilisation +and culture. The book has so many friends--this has been sufficiently +established by the very large sale it has had in cheap editions--that +I am still disposed to feel it was an inevitable manifestation in the +progress of my art, such as it is. People of diverse conditions of life +have found in it something to interest and to stimulate. One of the most +volcanic of the Labour members in the House of Commons told me that the +violence of his opposition to me in debate on a certain bill was greatly +moderated by the fact that I had written ‘The Translation of a Savage’; +while a certain rather grave duke remarked to me concerning the +character of Lali that “She would have been all right anywhere.” I am +bound to say that he was a duke who, while a young man, knew the wilds +of Canada and the United States almost as well as I know Westminster. + + + + +THE TRANSLATION OF A SAVAGE + + + + +CHAPTER I. HIS GREAT MISTAKE + +It appeared that Armour had made the great mistake of his life. When +people came to know, they said that to have done it when sober had shown +him possessed of a kind of maliciousness and cynicism almost pardonable, +but to do it when tipsy proved him merely weak and foolish. But the fact +is, he was less tipsy at the time than was imagined; and he could have +answered to more malice and cynicism than was credited to him. To those +who know the world it is not singular that, of the two, Armour was +thought to have made the mistake and had the misfortune, or that people +wasted their pity and their scorn upon him alone. Apparently they did +not see that the woman was to be pitied. He had married her; and she was +only an Indian girl from Fort Charles of the Hudson’s Bay Company, +with a little honest white blood in her veins. Nobody, not even her +own people, felt that she had anything at stake, or was in danger of +unhappiness, or was other than a person who had ludicrously come to bear +the name of Mrs. Francis Armour. If any one had said in justification +that she loved the man, the answer would have been that plenty of +Indian women had loved white men, but had not married them, and yet the +population of half-breeds went on increasing. + +Frank Armour had been a popular man in London. His club might be found +in the vicinity of Pall Mall, his father’s name was high and honoured in +the Army List, one of his brothers had served with Wolseley in Africa, +and Frank himself, having no profession, but with a taste for business +and investment, had gone to Canada with some such intention as Lord +Selkirk’s in the early part of the century. He owned large shares in +the Hudson’s Bay Company, and when he travelled through the North-West +country, prospecting, he was received most hospitably. Of an inquiring +and gregarious nature he went as much among the half-breeds--or ‘metis’, +as they are called--and Indians as among the officers of the Hudson’s +Bay Company and the white settlers. He had ever been credited with +having a philosophical turn of mind; and this was accompanied by a +certain strain of impulsiveness or daring. He had been accustomed all +his life to make up his mind quickly and, because he was well enough +off to bear the consequences of momentary rashness in commercial +investments, he was not counted among the transgressors. He had his +own fortune; he was not drawing upon a common purse. It was a different +matter when he trafficked rashly in the family name so far as to marry +the daughter of Eye-of-the-Moon, the Indian chief. + +He was tolerably happy when he went to the Hudson’s Bay country; for +Miss Julia Sherwood was his promised wife, and she, if poor, was notably +beautiful and of good family. His people had not looked quite kindly +on this engagement; they had, indeed, tried in many ways to prevent it; +partly because of Miss Sherwood’s poverty, and also because they knew +that Lady Agnes Martling had long cared for him, and was most happily +endowed with wealth and good looks also. When he left for Canada they +were inwardly glad (they imagined that something might occur to end +the engagement)--all except Richard, the wiseacre of the family, +the book-man, the drone, who preferred living at Greyhope, their +Hertfordshire home, the year through, to spending half the time in +Cavendish Square. Richard was very fond of Frank, admiring him immensely +for his buxom strength and cleverness, and not a little, too, for that +very rashness which had brought him such havoc at last. + +Richard was not, as Frank used to say, “perfectly sound on his +pins,”--that is, he was slightly lame, but he was right at heart. He +was an immense reader, but made little use of what he read. He had an +abundant humour, and remembered every anecdote he ever heard. He was +kind to the poor, walked much, talked to himself as he walked, and was +known by the humble sort as “a’centric.” But he had a wise head, and he +foresaw danger to Frank’s happiness when he went away. While others had +gossiped and manoeuvred and were busily idle, he had watched things. He +saw that Frank was dear to Julia in proportion to the distance between +her and young Lord Haldwell, whose father had done something remarkable +in guns or torpedoes and was rewarded with a lordship and an uncommonly +large fortune. He also saw that, after Frank left, the distance between +Lord Haldwell and Julia became distinctly less--they were both staying +at Greyhope. Julia Sherwood was a remarkably clever girl. Though he felt +it his duty to speak to her for his brother,--a difficult and delicate +matter, he thought it would come better from his mother. + +But when he took action it was too late. Miss Sherwood naively declared +that she had not known her own heart, and that she did not care for +Frank any more. She wept a little, and was soothed by motherly Mrs. +Armour, who was inwardly glad, though she knew the matter would cause +Frank pain; and even General Armour could not help showing slight +satisfaction, though he was innocent of any deliberate action to +separate the two. Straightway Miss Sherwood despatched a letter to the +wilds of Canada, and for a week was an unengaged young person. But she +was no doubt consoled by the fact that for some time past she had had +complete control of Lord Haldwell’s emotions. At the end of the week +her perceptions were justified by Lord Haldwell’s proposal, which, with +admirable tact and obvious demureness, was accepted. + +Now, Frank Armour was wandering much in the wilds, so that his letters +and papers went careering about after him, and some that came first were +last to reach him. That was how he received a newspaper announcing the +marriage of Lord Haldwell and Julia Sherwood at the same time that her +letter, written in estimable English and with admirable feeling, came, +begging for a release from their engagement, and, towards its close, +assuming, with a charming regret, that all was over, and that the last +word had been said between them. + +Armour was sitting in the trader’s room at Fort Charles when the carrier +came with the mails. He had had some successful days hunting buffalo +with Eye-of-the-Moon and a little band of metis, had had a long pow-wow +in Eye-of-the-Moon’s lodge, had chatted gaily with Lali the daughter, +and was now prepared to enjoy heartily the arrears of correspondence +and news before him. He ran his hand through the letters and papers, +intending to classify them immediately, according to such handwriting as +he recognised and the dates on the envelopes. But, as he did so, he saw +a newspaper from which the wrapper was partly torn. He also saw a note +in the margin directing him to a certain page. The note was in Richard’s +handwriting. He opened the paper at the page indicated and saw the +account of the marriage! His teeth clinched on his cigar, his face +turned white, the paper fell from his fingers. He gasped, his hands +spread out nervously, then caught the table and held it as though to +steady himself. + +The trader rose. “You are ill,” he said. “Have you bad news?” He glanced +towards the paper. Slowly Armour folded the paper up, and then rose +unsteadily. “Gordon,” he said, “give me a glass of brandy.” + +He turned towards the cupboard in the room. The trader opened it, took +out a bottle, and put it on the table beside Armour, together with a +glass and some water. Armour poured out a stiff draught, added a very +little water, and drank it. He drew a great sigh, and stood looking at +the paper. + +“Is there anything I can do for you, Mr. Armour?” urged the trader. + +“Nothing, thank you, nothing at all. Just leave the brandy here, will +you? I feel knocked about, and I have to go through the rest of these +letters.” + +He ran his fingers through the pile, turning it over hastily, as if +searching for something. The trader understood. He was a cool-headed +Scotsman; he knew that there were some things best not inquired into, +and that men must have their bad hours alone. He glanced at the brandy +debatingly, but presently turned and left the room in silence. In his +own mind, however, he wished he might have taken the brandy without +being discourteous. Armour had discovered Miss Sherwood’s letter. Before +he opened it he took a little more brandy. Then he sat down and read it +deliberately. The liquor had steadied him. The fingers of one hand even +drummed on the table. But the face was drawn, the eyes were hard, and +the look of him was altogether pinched. After he had finished this, he +looked for others from the same hand. He found none. Then he picked out +those from his mother and father. He read them grimly. Once he paused as +he read his mother’s letter, and took a gulp of plain brandy. There was +something very like a sneer on his face when he finished reading. He +read the hollowness of the sympathy extended to him; he understood the +far from adroit references to Lady Agnes Martling. He was very bitter. +He opened no more letters, but took up the Morning Post again, and read +it slowly through. The look of his face was not pleasant. There was a +small looking-glass opposite him. He caught sight of himself in it. +He drew his hand across his eyes and forehead, as though he was in a +miserable dream. He looked again; he could not recognise himself. + +He then bundled the letters and papers into his despatch-box. His +attention was drawn to one letter. He picked it up. It was from Richard. +He started to break the seal, but paused. The strain of the event was +too much; he winced. He determined not to read it then, to wait until he +had recovered himself. He laughed now painfully. It had been better +for him--it had, maybe, averted what people were used to term his +tragedy--had he read his brother’s letter at that moment. For Richard +Armour was a sensible man, notwithstanding his peculiarities; and +perhaps the most sensible words he ever wrote were in that letter +thrust unceremoniously into Frank Armour’s pocket. Armour had received a +terrible blow. He read his life backwards. He had no future. The liquor +he had drunk had not fevered him, it had not wildly excited him; it +merely drew him up to a point where he could put a sudden impulse +into practice without flinching. He was bitter against his people; +he credited them with more interference than was actual. He felt that +happiness had gone out of his life and left him hopeless. As we said, he +was a man of quick decisions. He would have made a dashing but reckless +soldier; he was not without the elements of the gamester. It is possible +that there was in him also a strain of cruelty, undeveloped but radical. +Life so far had evolved the best in him; he had been cheery and candid. +Now he travelled back into new avenues of his mind and found strange, +aboriginal passions, fully adapted to the present situation. Vulgar +anger and reproaches were not after his nature. He suddenly found +sources of refined but desperate retaliation. He drew upon them. He +would do something to humiliate his people and the girl who had spoiled +his life. Some one thing! It should be absolute and lasting, it should +show how low had fallen his opinion of women, of whom Julia Sherwood had +once been chiefest to him. In that he would show his scorn of her. He +would bring down the pride of his family, who, he believed, had helped, +out of mere selfishness, to tumble his happiness into the shambles. + +He was older by years than an hour ago. But he was not without the +faculty of humour; that was why he did not become very excited; it was +also why he determined upon a comedy which should have all the elements +of tragedy. Perhaps, however, he would have hesitated to carry his +purposes to immediate conclusions, were it not that the very gods seemed +to play his game with him. For, while he stood there, looking out into +the yard of the fort, a Protestant missionary passed the window. The +Protestant missionary, as he is found at such places as Fort Charles, is +not a strictly superior person. A Jesuit might have been of advantage +to Frank Armour at that moment. The Protestant missionary is not above +comfortable assurances of gold. So that when Armour summoned this one +in, and told him what was required of him, and slipped a generous gift +of the Queen’s coin into his hand, he smiled vaguely and was willing to +do what he was bidden. Had he been a Jesuit, who is sworn to poverty, +and more often than not a man of birth and education, he might have +influenced Frank Armour and prevented the notable mishap and scandal. As +it was, Armour took more brandy. + +Then he went down to Eye-of-the-Moon’s lodge. A few hours afterwards +the missionary met him there. The next morning Lali, the daughter of +Eye-of-the-Moon, and the chieftainess of a portion of her father’s +tribe, whose grandfather had been a white man, was introduced to the +Hudson’s Bay country as Mrs. Frank Armour. But that was not all. Indeed, +as it stood, it was very little. He had only made his comedy possible as +yet; now the play itself was to come. He had carried his scheme through +boldly so far. He would not flinch in carrying it out to the last +letter. He brought his wife down to the Great Lakes immediately, +scarcely resting day or night. There he engaged an ordinary but reliable +woman, to whom he gave instructions, and sent the pair to the coast. +He instructed his solicitor at Montreal to procure passages for Mrs. +Francis Armour and maid for Liverpool. Then, by letters, he instructed +his solicitor in London to meet Mrs. Francis Armour and maid at +Liverpool and take them to Greyhope in Hertfordshire--that is, if +General Armour and Mrs. Armour, or some representative of the family, +did not meet them when they landed from the steamship. + +Presently he sat down and wrote to his father and mother, and asked +them to meet his wife and her maid when they arrived by the steamer +Aphrodite. He did not explain to them in precise detail his feelings on +Miss Julia Sherwood’s marriage, nor did he go into full particulars as +to the personality of Mrs. Frank Armour; but he did say that, because he +knew they were anxious that he should marry “acceptably,” he had married +into the aristocracy, the oldest aristocracy of America; and because he +also knew they wished him to marry wealth, he sent them a wife rich in +virtues--native, unspoiled virtues. He hoped that they would take her to +their hearts and cherish her. He knew their firm principles of honour, +and that he could trust them to be kind to his wife until he returned to +share the affection which he was sure would be given to her. It was not +his intention to return to England for some time yet. He had work to +do in connection with his proposed colony; and a wife--even a native +wife--could not well be a companion in the circumstances. Besides, +Lali--his wife’s name was Lali!--would be better occupied in learning +the peculiarities of the life in which her future would be cast. It +was possible they would find her an apt pupil. Of this they could +not complain, that she was untravelled; for she had ridden a horse, +bareback, half across the continent. They could not cavil at her +education, for she knew several languages--aboriginal languages--of the +North. She had merely to learn the dialect of English society, and how +to carry with acceptable form the costumes of the race to which she was +going. Her own costume was picturesque, but it might appear unusual in +London society. Still, they could use their own judgment about that. + +Then, when she was gone beyond recall, he chanced one day to put on the +coat he wore when the letters and paper declaring his misfortune came to +him. He found his brother’s letter; he opened it and read it. It was +the letter of a man who knew how to appreciate at their proper value the +misfortunes, as the fortunes, of life. While Frank Armour read he came +to feel for the first time that his brother Richard had suffered, maybe, +from some such misery as had come to him through Julia Sherwood. It was +a dispassionate, manly letter, relieved by gentle wit, and hinting with +careful kindness that a sudden blow was better for a man than a lifelong +thorn in his side. Of Julia Sherwood he had nothing particularly bitter +to say. He delicately suggested that she had acted according to her +nature, and that in the see-saw of life Frank had had a sore blow; +but this was to be borne. The letter did not say too much; it did +not magnify the difficulty, it did not depreciate it. It did not even +directly counsel; it was wholesomely, tenderly judicial. Indirectly, it +dwelt upon the steadiness and manliness of Frank’s character; directly, +lightly, and without rhetoric, it enlarged upon their own comradeship. +It ran over pleasantly the days of their boyhood, when they were hardly +ever separated. It made distinct, yet with no obvious purpose, how good +were friendship and confidence--which might be the most unselfish thing +in the world--between two men. With the letter before him Frank Armour +saw his act in a new light. + +As we said, it is possible if he had read it on the day when his trouble +came to him, he had not married Lali, or sent her to England on this--to +her--involuntary mission of revenge. It is possible, also, that there +came to him the first vague conception of the wrong he had done this +Indian girl, who undoubtedly married him because she cared for him +after her heathen fashion, while he had married her for nothing that +was commendable; not even for passion, which may be pardoned, nor for +vanity, which has its virtues. He had had his hour with circumstance; +circumstance would have its hour with him in due course. Yet there was +no extraordinary revulsion. He was still angry, cynical, and very sore. +He would see the play out with a consistent firmness. He almost managed +a smile when a letter was handed to him some weeks later, bearing his +solicitor’s assurance that Mrs. Frank Armour and her maid had been +safely bestowed on the Aphrodite for England. This was the first act in +his tragic comedy. + + + + +CHAPTER II. A DIFFICULT SITUATION + +When Mrs. Frank Armour arrived at Montreal she still wore her Indian +costume of clean, well-broidered buckskin, moccasins, and leggings, +all surmounted by a blanket. It was not a distinguished costume, but it +seemed suitable to its wearer. Mr. Armour’s agent was in a quandary. He +had received no instructions regarding her dress. He felt, of course, +that, as Mrs. Frank Armour, she should put off these garments, and +dress, so far as was possible, in accordance with her new position. But +when he spoke about it to Mackenzie, the elderly maid and companion, he +found that Mr. Armour had said that his wife was to arrive in England +dressed as she was. He saw something ulterior in the matter, but it was +not his province to interfere. And so Mrs. Frank Armour was a passenger +by the Aphrodite in her buckskin garments. + +What she thought of it all is not quite easy to say. It is possible that +at first she only considered that she was the wife of a white man,--a +thing to be desired, and that the man she loved was hers for ever--a +matter of indefinable joy to her. That he was sending her to England did +not fret her, because it was his will, and he knew what was best. Busy +with her contented and yet somewhat dazed thoughts of him,--she was too +happy to be very active mentally, even if it had been the characteristic +of her race,--she was not at first aware how much notice she excited, +and how strange a figure she was in this staring city. When it did dawn +upon her she shrank a little, but still was placid, preferring to sit +with her hands folded in her lap, idly watching things. She appeared +oblivious that she was the wife of a man of family and rank; she was +only thinking that the man was hers--all hers. He had treated her kindly +enough in the days they were together, but she had not been a great deal +with him, because they travelled fast, and his duties were many, or he +made them so--but the latter possibility did not occur to her. + +When he had hastily bidden her farewell at Port Arthur he had kissed +her and said: “Good-bye, my wife.” She was not yet acute enough in the +inflections of Saxon speech to catch the satire--almost involuntary--in +the last two words. She remembered the words, however, and the kiss, and +she was quite satisfied. To what she was going she did not speculate. He +was sending her: that was enough. + +The woman given to her as maid had been well chosen. Armour had done +this carefully. She was Scotch, was reserved, had a certain amount of +shrewdness, would obey instructions, and do her duty carefully. What she +thought about the whole matter she kept to herself; even the solicitor +at Montreal could not find out. She had her instructions clear in her +mind; she was determined to carry them out to the letter--for which she +was already well paid, and was like to be better paid; because Armour +had arranged that she should continue to be with his wife after they +got to England. She understood well the language of Lali’s tribe, +and because Lali’s English was limited she would be indispensable in +England. + +Mackenzie, therefore, had responsibility, and if she was not elated +over it, she still knew the importance of her position, and had enough +practical vanity to make her an efficient servant and companion. She +already felt that she had got her position in life, from which she was +to go out no more for ever. She had been brought up in the shadow +of Alnwick Castle, and she knew what was due to her charge--by other +people; herself only should have liberty with her. She was taking Lali +to the home of General Armour, and that must be kept constantly before +her mind. Therefore, from the day they set foot on the Aphrodite, she +kept her place beside Mrs. Armour, sitting with her,--they walked very +little,--and scarcely ever speaking, either to her or to the curious +passengers. Presently the passengers became more inquisitive, and +made many attempts at being friendly; but these received little +encouragement. It had become known who the Indian girl was, and many +wild tales went about as to her marriage with Francis Armour. Now it was +maintained she had saved his life at an outbreak of her tribe; again, +that she had found him dying in the woods and had nursed him back to +life and health; yet again, that she was a chieftainess, a successful +claimant against the Hudson’s Bay Company--and so on. + +There were several on board who knew the Armours well by name, and two +who knew them personally. One was Mr. Edward Lambert, a barrister of the +Middle Temple, and the other was Mrs. Townley, a widow, a member of a +well-known Hertfordshire family, who, on a pleasant journey in Scotland, +had met, conquered, and married a wealthy young American, and had +been left alone in the world, by no means portionless, eighteen months +before. Lambert knew Richard Armour well, and when, from Francis +Armour’s solicitor, with whom he was acquainted, he heard, just before +they started, who the Indian girl was, he was greatly shocked and sorry. +He guessed at once the motive, the madness, of this marriage. But he +kept his information and his opinions mostly to himself, except in so +far as it seemed only due to friendship to contradict the numberless +idle stories going about. After the first day at sea he came to know +Mrs. Townley, and when he discovered that they had many common friends +and that she knew the Armours, he spoke a little more freely to her +regarding the Indian wife, and told her what he believed was the cause +of the marriage. + +Mrs. Townley was a woman--a girl--of uncommon gentleness of disposition, +and, in spite of her troubles, inclined to view life with a sunny eye. +She had known of Frank Armour’s engagement with Miss Julia Sherwood, but +she had never heard the sequel. If this was the sequel--well, it had to +be faced. But she was almost tremulous with sympathy when she +remembered Mrs. Armour, and Frank’s gay, fashionable sister, Marion, and +contemplated the arrival of this Indian girl at Greyhope. She had always +liked Frank Armour, but this made her angry with him; for, on second +thoughts, she was not more sorry for him and for his people than for +Lali, the wife. She had the true instinct of womanhood, and she supposed +that a heathen like this could have feelings to be hurt and a life to be +wounded as herself or another. At least she saw what was possible in the +future when this Indian girl came to understand her position--only to be +accomplished by contact with the new life, so different from her +past. Both she and Lambert decided that she was very fine-looking, not +withstanding her costume. She was slim and well built, with modest +bust and shapely feet and ankles. Her eyes were large, meditative, and +intelligent, her features distinguished. She was a goodly product of her +race, being descended from a line of chiefs and chieftainesses--broken +only in the case of her grandfather, as has been mentioned. Her hands +(the two kindly inquisitors decided) were almost her best point. They +were perfectly made, slim, yet plump, the fingers tapering, the +wrist supple. Mrs. Townley then and there decided that the girl +had possibilities. But here she was, an Indian, with few signs of +civilisation or of that breeding which seems to white people the only +breeding fit for earth or heaven. + +Mrs. Townley did not need Lambert’s suggestion that she should try to +approach the girl, make friends with her, and prepare her in some slight +degree for the strange career before her. + +Mrs. Townley had an infinite amount of tact. She knew it was best to +approach the attendant first. This she did, and, to the surprise of +other lady-passengers, received no rebuff. Her advance was not, however, +rapid. Mackenzie had had her instructions. When she found that Mrs. +Townley knew Francis Armour and his people, she thawed a little more, +and then, very hesitatingly, she introduced her to the Indian wife. Mrs. +Townley smiled her best--and there were many who knew how attractive +she could be at such a moment. There was a slight pause, in which Lali +looked at her meditatively, earnestly, and then those beautiful wild +fingers glided out, and caught her hand, and held it; but she spoke no +word. She only looked inquiringly, seriously, at her new-found friend, +and presently dropped the blanket away from her, and sat up firmly, as +though she felt she was not altogether an alien now, and had a right to +hold herself proudly among white people, as she did in her own country +and with her own tribe, who had greatly admired her. Certainly Mrs. +Townley could find no fault with the woman as an Indian. She had taste, +carried her clothes well, and was superbly fresh in appearance, though +her hair still bore very slight traces of the grease which even the most +aristocratic Indians use. + +But Lali would not talk. Mrs. Townley was anxious that the girl should +be dressed in European costume, and offered to lend and rearrange +dresses of her own, but she came in collision with Mr. Armour’s +instructions. So she had to assume a merely kind and comforting +attitude. The wife had not the slightest idea where she was going, and +even when Mackenzie, at Mrs. Townley’s oft-repeated request, explained +very briefly and unpicturesquely, she only looked incredulous or +unconcerned. Yet the ship, its curious passengers, the dining saloon, +the music, the sea, and all, had given her suggestions of what was to +come. They had expected that at table she would be awkward and ignorant +to a degree. But she had at times eaten at the trader’s table at Fort +Charles, and had learned how to use a knife and fork. She had also +been a favourite with the trader’s wife, who had taught her very many +civilised things. Her English, though far from abundant, was good. +Those, therefore, who were curious and rude enough to stare at her were +probably disappointed to find that she ate like “any Christom man.” + +“How do you think the Armours will receive her?” said Lambert to +Mrs. Townley, of whose judgment on short acquaintance he had come to +entertain a high opinion. + +Mrs. Townley had a pretty way of putting her head to one side and +speaking very piquantly. She had had it as a girl; she had not lost it +as a woman, any more than she had lost a soft little spontaneous laugh +which was one of her unusual charms--for few women can laugh audibly +with effect. She laughed very softly now, and, her sense of humour +supervening for the moment, she said: + +“Really, you have asked me a conundrum. I fancy I see Mrs. Armour’s face +when she gets the news,--at the breakfast-table, of course, and gives +a little shriek, and says: ‘General! oh, General!’ But it is all very +shocking, you know,” she added, in a lower voice. “Still I think they +will receive her and do the best they can for her; because, you see, +there she is, married hard and fast. She bears the Armour name, and +is likely to make them all very unhappy, indeed, if she determines to +retaliate upon them for any neglect.” + +“Yes. But how to retaliate, Mrs. Townley?” Lambert had not a suggestive +mind. + +“Well, for instance, suppose they sent her away into seclusion,--with +Frank’s consent, another serious question,--and she should take the +notion to fly her retirement, and appear inopportunely at some social +function clothed as she is now! I fancy her blanket would be a wet one +in such a case--if you will pardon the little joke.” + +Lambert sighed. “Poor Frank--poor devil!” he said, almost beneath his +breath. + +“And wherefore poor Frank? Do you think he or the Armours of Greyhope +are the only ones at stake in this? What about this poor girl? Just +think why he married her, if our suspicions are right,--and then imagine +her feelings when she wakes to the truth over there, as some time she is +sure to do!” + +Then Lambert began to see the matter in a different light, and +his sympathy for Francis Armour grew less as his pity for the girl +increased. In fact, the day before they got to Liverpool he swore at +Armour more than once, and was anxious concerning the reception of the +heathen wife by her white relatives. + +Had he been present at a certain scene at Greyhope a day or two before, +he would have been still more anxious. It was the custom, at breakfast, +for Mrs. Armour to open her husband’s letters and read them while he was +engaged with his newspaper, and hand to him afterwards those that were +important. This morning Marion noticed a letter from Frank amongst the +pile, and, without a word, pounced upon it. She was curious--as any +woman would be--to see how he took Miss Sherwood’s action. Her father +was deep in his paper at the time. Her mother was reading other letters. +Marion read the first few lines with a feeling of almost painful wonder, +the words were so curious, cynical, and cold. + +Richard sat opposite her. He also was engaged with his paper, but, +chancing to glance up, he saw that she was becoming very pale, and that +the letter trembled in her fingers. Being a little short-sighted, he +was not near enough to see the handwriting. He did not speak yet. He +watched. Presently, seeing her grow more excited, he touched her foot +under the table. She looked up, and caught his eye. She gasped slightly. +She gave him a warning look, and turned away from her mother. Then she +went on reading to the bitter end. + +Presently a little cry escaped her against her will. At that her mother +looked up, but she only saw her daughter’s back, as she rose hurriedly +from the table, saying that she would return in a moment. Mrs. Armour, +however, had been startled. She knew that Marion had been reading a +letter, and, with a mother’s instinct, her thoughts were instantly on +Frank. She spoke quickly, almost sharply: + +“Marion, come here.” + +Richard had risen. He came round the table, and, as the girl obeyed her +mother, took the letter from her fingers and hastily glanced over it. +Mrs. Armour came forward and took her daughter’s arm. “Marion,” she +said, “there is something wrong--with Frank. What is it?” + +General Armour was now looking up at them all, curiously, questioningly, +through his glasses, his paper laid down, his hands resting on the +table. + +Marion could not answer. She was sick with regret, vexation, and shame; +at the first flush, death--for Frank--had been preferable to this. She +had a considerable store of vanity; she was not very philosophical. +Besides, she was not married; and what Captain Vidall, her devoted +admirer and possible husband, would think of this heathenish alliance +was not a cheer ful thought to her. She choked down a sob, and waved her +hand towards Richard to answer for her. He was pale too, but cool. He +understood the case instantly; he made up his mind instantly also as to +what ought to be--must be--done. + +“Well, mother,” he said, “it is about Frank. But he is all right; that +is, he is alive and well-in body. But he has arranged a hateful little +embarrassment for us--he is married.” + +“Married!” exclaimed his mother faintly. “Oh, poor Lady Agnes!” + +Marion sniffed a little viciously at this. + +“Married? Married?” said his father. “Well, what about it? eh? what +about it?” + +The mother wrung her hands. “Oh, I know it is something +dreadful--dreadful! He has married some horrible wild person, or +something.” + +Richard, miserable as he was, remained calm. “Well,” said he, “I don’t +know about her being horrible. Frank is silent on that point; but she is +wild enough--a wild Indian, in fact.” + +“Indian? Indian? Good God--a red nigger!” cried General Armour harshly, +starting to his feet. + +“An Indian? a wild Indian?” Mrs. Armour whispered faintly, as she +dropped into a chair. + +“And she’ll be here in two or three days,” fluttered Marion +hysterically. + +Meanwhile Richard had hastily picked up the Times. “She is due here the +day after to-morrow,” he said deliberately. “Frank is as decisive as he +is rash. Well, it’s a melancholy tit-for-tat.” + +“What do you mean by tit-for-tat?” cried his father angrily. + +“Oh, I mean that--that we tried to hasten Julia’s marriage--with the +other fellow, and he is giving us one in return; and you will all agree +that it’s a pretty permanent one.” + +The old soldier recovered himself, and was beside his wife in an +instant. He took her hand. “Don’t fret about it, wife,” he said; “it’s +an ugly business, but we must put up with it. The boy was out of his +head. We are old, now, my dear, but there was a time when we should have +resented such a thing as much as Frank--though not in the same fashion, +perhaps--not in the same fashion.” The old man pressed his lips hard to +keep down his emotion. + +“Oh, how could he--how could he!” said his mother: “we meant everything +for the best.” + +“It is always dangerous business meddling with lovers’ affairs,” + rejoined Richard. “Lovers take themselves very seriously indeed, +and--well, here the thing is! Now, who will go and fetch her from +Liverpool? I should say that both my father and my mother ought to go.” + +Thus Richard took it for granted that they would receive Frank’s Indian +wife into their home. He intended that, so far as he was concerned, +there should be no doubt upon the question from the beginning. + +“Never--she shall never come here!” said Marion, with flashing eyes; “a +common squaw, with greasy hair, and blankets, and big mouth, and black +teeth, who eats with her fingers and grunts! If she does, if she is +brought to Greyhope, I will never show my face in the world again. Frank +married the animal: why does he ship her home to us? Why didn’t he come +with her? Why does he not take her to a home of his own? Why should he +send her here, to turn our house into a menagerie?” + +Marion drew her skirt back, as if the common squaw, with her blankets +and grease, was at that moment near her. + +“Well, you see,” continued Richard, “that is just it. As I said, Frank +arranged this little complication with a trifling amount of malice. +No doubt he didn’t come with her because he wished to test the family +loyalty and hospitality; but a postscript to this letter says that his +solicitor has instructions to meet his wife at Liverpool, and bring her +on here in case we fail to show her proper courtesy.” + +General Armour here spoke. “He has carried the war of retaliation very +far indeed, but men do mad things when their blood is up, as I have seen +often. That doesn’t alter our clear duty in the matter. If the woman +were bad, or shameful, it would be a different thing; if--” + +Marion interrupted: “She has ridden bareback across the continent like a +jockey,--like a common jockey, and she wears a blanket, and she doesn’t +know a word of English, and she will sit on the floor!” + +“Well,” said her father, “all these things are not sins, and she must be +taught better.” + +“Joseph, how can you?” said Mrs. Armour indignantly. “She cannot, she +shall not come here. Think of Marion. Think of our position.” + +She hid her troubled, tear-stained face behind her handkerchief. At the +same time she grasped her husband’s hand. She knew that he was right. +She honoured him in her heart for the position he had taken, but she +could not resist the natural impulse of a woman where her taste and +convention were shocked. + +The old man was very pale, but there was no mistaking his determination. +He had been more indignant than any of them, at first, but he had an +unusual sense of justice when he got face to face with it, as Richard +had here helped him to do. “We do not know that the woman has done any +wrong,” he said. “As for our name and position, they, thank God! are +where a mad marriage cannot unseat them. We have had much prosperity in +the world, my wife; we have had neither death nor dishonour; we--” + +“If this isn’t dishonour, father, what is?” Marion flashed out. + +He answered calmly. “My daughter, it is a great misfortune, it will +probably be a lifelong trial, but it is not necessarily dishonour.” + +“You never can make a scandal less by trying to hide it,” said Richard, +backing up his father. “It is all pretty awkward, but I daresay we shall +get some amusement out of it in the end.” + +“Richard,” said his mother through her tears, “you are flippant and +unkind!” + +“Indeed, mother,” was his reply, “I never was more serious in my life. +When I spoke of amusement, I meant comedy merely, not fun--the thing +that looks like tragedy and has a happy ending. That is what I mean, +mother, nothing more.” + +“You are always so very deep, Richard,” remarked Marion ironically, “and +care so very little how the rest of us feel about things. You have +no family pride. If you had married a squaw, we shouldn’t have been +surprised. You could have camped in the grounds with your wild woman, +and never have been missed--by the world,” she hastened to add, for she +saw a sudden pain in his face. + +He turned from them all a little wearily, and limped over to the window. +He stood looking out into the limes where he and Frank had played when +boys. He put his finger up, his unhandsome finger, and caught away some +moisture from his eyes. He did not dare to let them see his face, nor +yet to speak. Marion had cut deeper than she knew, and he would carry +the wound for many a day before it healed. + +But his sister felt instantly how cruel she had been, as she saw him +limp away, and caught sight of the bowed shoulders and the prematurely +grey hair. Her heart smote her. She ran over, and impulsively put her +hands on his shoulder. “Oh, Dick,” she said, “forgive me, Dick! I didn’t +mean it. I was angry and foolish and hateful.” + +He took one of her hands as it rested on his shoulder, she standing +partly behind him, and raised it to his lips, but he did not turn to +her; he could not. + +“It is all right--all right,” he said; “it doesn’t make any difference. +Let us think of Frank and what we have got to do. Let us stand together, +Marion; that is best.” + +But her tears were dropping on his shoulder, as her forehead rested on +her hand. He knew now that, whatever Frank’s wife was, she would not +have an absolute enemy here; for when Marion cried her heart was soft. +She was clay in the hands of the potter whom we call Mercy--more often +a stranger to the hearts of women than of men. At the other side of the +room also the father and mother, tearless now, watched these two; and +the mother saw her duty better and with less rebelliousness. She had +felt it from the first, but she could not bring her mind to do it. +They held each other’s hands in silence. Presently General Armour said: +“Richard, your mother and I will go to Liverpool to meet Frank’s wife.” + +Marion shuddered a little, and her hands closed on Richard’s shoulder, +but she said nothing. + + + + +CHAPTER III. OUT OF THE NORTH + +It was a beautiful day--which was so much in favour of Mrs. Frank Armour +in relation to her husband’s people. General Armour and his wife had +come down from London by the latest train possible, that their suspense +at Liverpool might be short. They said little to each other, but when +they did speak it was of things very different from the skeleton which +they expected to put into the family cupboard presently. Each was trying +to spare the other. It was very touching. They naturally looked upon the +matter in its most unpromising light, because an Indian was an Indian, +and this unknown savage from Fort Charles was in violent contrast to +such desirable persons as Lady Agnes Martling. Not that the Armours were +zealous for mere money and title, but the thing itself was altogether +a propos, as Mrs. Armour had more naively than correctly put it. The +general, whose knowledge of character and the circumstances of life +was considerable, had worked out the thing with much accuracy. He had +declared to Richard, in their quiet talk upon the subject, that Frank +must have been anything but sober when he did it. He had previously +called it a policy of retaliation; so that now he was very near the +truth. When they arrived at the dock at Liverpool, the Aphrodite was +just making into the harbour. + +“Egad,” said General Armour to himself, “Sebastopol was easier than +this; for fighting I know, and being peppered I know, by Jews, Greeks, +infidels, and heretics; but to take a savage to my arms and do for her +what her godfathers and godmothers never did, is worse than the devil’s +dance at Delhi.” + +What Mrs. Armour, who was not quite so definite as her husband, thought, +it would be hard to tell; but probably grief for, and indignation at, +her son, were uppermost in her mind. She had quite determined upon +her course. None could better carry that high, neutral look of social +superiority than she. + +Please Heaven, she said to herself, no one should see that her +equanimity was shaken. They had brought one servant with them, who had +been gravely and yet conventionally informed that his young master’s +wife, an Indian chieftainess, was expected. There are few family +troubles but find their way to servants’ hall with an uncomfortable +speed; for, whether or not stone walls have ears, certainly men-servants +and maid-servants have eyes that serve for ears, and ears that do more +than their bounden duty. Boulter, the footman, knew his business. When +informed of the coming of Mrs. Francis Armour, the Indian chieftainess, +his face was absolutely expressionless; his “Yessir” was as mechanical +as usual. On the dock he was marble--indifferent. When the passengers +began to land, he showed no excitement. He was decorously alert. When +the crucial moment came, he was imperturbable. Boulter was an excellent +servant. So said Edward Lambert to himself after the event; so, +likewise, said Mrs. Townley to herself when the thing was over; so +declared General Armour many a time after, and once very emphatically, +just before he raised Boulter’s wages. + +As the boat neared Liverpool, Lambert and Mrs. Townley grew nervous. The +truth regarding the Indian wife had become known among the passengers, +and most were very curious--some in a well-bred fashion, some +intrusively, vulgarly. Mackenzie, Lali’s companion, like Boulter, was +expressionless in face. She had her duty to do, paid for liberally, and +she would do it. Lali might have had a more presentable and dignified +attendant, but not one more worthy. It was noticeable that the captain +of the ship and all the officers had been markedly courteous to Mrs. +Armour throughout the voyage, but, to their credit, not ostentatiously +so. When the vessel was brought to anchor and the passengers were being +put upon the tender, the captain came and made his respectful adieus, +as though Lali were a lady of title in her own right, and not an Indian +girl married to a man acting under the influence of brandy and malice. +General Armour and Mrs. Armour were always grateful to Lambert and Mrs. +Townley for the part they played in this desperate little comedy. They +stood still and watchful as the passengers came ashore one by one. They +saw that they were the centre of unusual interest, but General Armour +was used to bearing himself with a grim kind of indifference in public, +and his wife was calm, and so somewhat disappointed those who probably +expected the old officer and his wife to be distressed. Frank Armour’s +solicitor was also there, but, with good taste, he held aloof. The two +needed all their courage, however, when they saw a figure in buckskin +and blanket step upon the deck, attended by a very ordinary, austere, +and shabbily-dressed Scotswoman. But immediately behind them were +Edward Lambert and Mrs. Townley, and these, with their simple tact, +naturalness, and freedom from any sort of embarrassment, acted as foils, +and relieved the situation. + +General Armour advanced, hat in hand. “You are my son’s wife?” he said +courteously to this being in a blanket. + +She looked up and shook her head slightly, for she did not quite +understand; but she recognised his likeness to her husband, and +presently she smiled up musingly. Mackenzie repeated to her what General +Armour had said. She nodded now, a flash of pleasure lighting up her +face, and she slid out her beautiful hand to him. The general took it +and pressed it mechanically, his lips twitching slightly. He pressed it +far harder than he meant, for his feelings were at tension. She winced +slightly, and involuntarily thrust out her other hand, as if to relieve +his pressure. As she did so the blanket fell away from her head and +shoulders. Lambert, with excellent intuition, caught it, and threw it +across his arm. Then, quickly, and without embarrassment, he and Mrs. +Townley greeted General Armour, who returned the greetings gravely, but +in a singular, confidential tone, which showed his gratitude. Then +he raised his hat again to Lali, and said: “Come and let me introduce +you--to your husband’s mother.” + +The falling back of that blanket had saved the situation; for when the +girl stood without it in her buckskin garments there was a dignity in +her bearing which carried off the bizarre event. There was timidity in +her face, and yet a kind of pride too, though she was only a savage. The +case, even at this critical moment, did not seem quite hopeless. When +they came to Mrs. Armour, Lali shrank away timidly from the look in the +mother’s eyes, and, shivering slightly, looked round for her blanket. +But Lambert had deftly passed it on to the footman. Presently Mrs. +Armour took both the girl’s hands in hers (perhaps she did it because +the eyes of the public were on her, but that is neither here nor +there--she did it), and kissed her on the cheek. Then they moved away to +a closed carriage. + +And that was the second act in Frank Armour’s comedy of errors. + + + + +CHAPTER IV. IN THE NAME OF THE FAMILY + +The journey from Liverpool to Greyhope was passed in comparative +silence. The Armours had a compartment to themselves, and they made +the Indian girl as comfortable as possible without self-consciousness, +without any artificial politeness. So far, what they had done was a +matter of duty, not of will; but they had done their duty naturally +all their lives, and it was natural to them now. They had no personal +feelings towards the girl one way or another, as yet. It was trying to +them that people stared into the compartment at different stations. It +presently dawned upon General Armour that it might also be trying +to their charge. Neither he nor his wife had taken into account the +possibility of the girl having feelings to be hurt. But he had noticed +Lali shrink visibly and flush slightly when some one stared harder +than usual, and this troubled him. It opened up a possibility. He began +indefinitely to see that they were not the only factors in the equation. +He was probably a little vexed that he had not seen it before; for +he wished to be a just man. He was wont to quote with more or less +austerity--chiefly the result of his professional life--this: + + “For justice, all place a temple, and all season summer.” + +And, man of war as he was, he had another saying which was much in his +mouth; and he lived up to it with considerable sincerity: + + “Still in thy right hand carry gentle peace, + To silence envious tongues.” + +He whispered to his wife. It would have been hard to tell from her look +what she thought of the matter, but presently she changed seats with +her husband, that he might, by holding his newspaper at a certain angle, +shield the girl from intrusive gazers. + +At every station the same scene was enacted. And inquisitive people must +have been surprised to see how monotonously ordinary was the manner of +the three white people in the compartment. Suddenly, at a station near +London, General Armour gave a start, and used a strong expression under +his breath. Glancing at the “Marriage” column, he saw a notice to the +effect that on a certain day of a certain month, Francis Gilbert, the +son of General Joseph Armour, C.B., of Greyhope, Hertfordshire, and +Cavendish Square, was married to Lali, the daughter of Eye-of-the-Moon, +chief of the Bloods, at her father’s lodge in the Saskatchewan Valley. +This had been inserted by Frank Armour’s solicitor, according to his +instructions, on the day that the Aphrodite was due at Liverpool. +General Armour did not at first intend to show this to his wife, but on +second thought he did, because he knew she would eventually come to +know of it, and also because she saw that something had moved him. +She silently reached out her hand for the paper. He handed it to her, +pointing to the notice. + +Mrs. Armour was unhappy, but her self-possession was admirable, and she +said nothing. She turned her face to the window, and sat for a long time +looking out. She did not turn to the others, for her eyes were full of +tears, and she did not dare to wipe them away, nor yet to let them be +seen. She let them dry there. She was thinking of her son, her favourite +son, for whom she had been so ambitious, and for whom, so far as she +could, and retain her self-respect, she had delicately intrigued, that +he might happily and befittingly marry. She knew that in the matter of +his engagement she had not done what was best for him, but how could she +have guessed that this would be the result? She also was sure that when +the first flush of his anger and disappointment had passed, and he came +to view this thing with cooler mind, he would repent deeply--for a whole +lifetime. She was convinced that he had not married this savage for +anything which could make marriage endurable. Under the weight of the +thought she was likely to forget that the young alien wife might have +lost terribly in the event also. + +The arrival at Euston and the departure from St. Pancras were rather +painful all round, for, though there was no waiting at either place, the +appearance of an Indian girl in native costume was uncommon enough, even +in cosmopolitan London, to draw much attention. Besides, the placards of +the evening papers were blazoned with such announcements as this: + + A RED INDIAN GIRL + MARRIED INTO + AN ENGLISH COUNTY FAMILY. + +Some one had telegraphed particulars--distorted particulars--over from +Liverpool, and all the evening sheets had their portion of extravagance +and sensation. General Armour became a little more erect and austere as +he caught sight of these placards, and Mrs. Armour groaned inwardly; but +their faces were inscrutable, and they quietly conducted their charge, +minus her blanket, to the train which was to take them to St. Albans, +and were soon wheeling homeward. + +At Euston they parted with Lambert and Mrs. Townley, who quite +simply and conventionally bade good-bye to them and their Indian +daughter-in-law. Lali had grown to like Mrs. Townley, and when they +parted she spoke a few words quickly in her own tongue, and then +immediately was confused, because she remembered that she could not be +understood. But presently she said in halting English that the face of +her white friend was good, and she hoped that she would come one time +and sit beside her in her wigwam, for she would be sad till her husband +travelled to her. + +Mrs. Townley made some polite reply in simple English, pressed the +girl’s hand sympathetically, and hurried away. Before she parted from +Mr. Lambert, however, she said, with a pretty touch of cynicism: +“I think I see Marion Armour listening to her sister-in-law issue +invitations to her wigwam. I am afraid I should be rather depressed +myself if I had to be sisterly to a wigwam lady.” + +“But I say, Mrs. Townley,” rejoined Lambert seriously, as he loitered +at the steps of her carriage, “I shouldn’t be surprised if my Lady +Wigwam--a rather apt and striking title, by the way--turned out better +than we think. She carried herself rippingly without the blanket, and I +never saw a more beautiful hand in my life--but one,” he added, as his +fingers at that moment closed on hers, and held them tightly, in spite +of the indignant little effort at withdrawal. “She may yet be able to +give them all points in dignity and that kind of thing, and pay Master +Frank back in his own coin. I do not see, after all, that he is the +martyr.” + +Lambert’s voice got softer, for he still held Mrs. Townley’s fingers, +the footman not having the matter in his eye,--and then he spoke still +more seriously on sentimental affairs of his own, in which he evidently +hoped she would take some interest. Indeed, it is hard to tell how far +the case might have been pushed if she had not suddenly looked a little +forbidding and imperious. For even people of no notable height, with +soft features, dark brown eyes, and a delightful little laugh, may +appear rather regal at times. Lambert did not quite understand why she +should take this attitude. If he had been as keen regarding his own +affairs of the affections as in the case of Frank Armour and his Indian +bride, he had known that every woman has in her mind the occasion when +she should and when she should not be wooed, and nothing disappoints her +more than a declaration at a time which is not her time. If it does +not fall out as she wishes it, retrospect, a dear thing to a woman, +is spoiled. Many a man has been sent to the right-about because he has +ventured his proposal at the wrong time. What would have occurred to +Lambert it is hard to tell; but he saw that something was wrong, and +stopped in time. + +When General Armour and his party reached Greyhope it was late in the +evening. The girl seemed tired and confused by the events of the day, +and did as she was directed, indifferently, limply. But when they +entered the gates of Greyhope and travelled up the long avenue of limes, +she looked round her somewhat eagerly, and drew a long sigh, maybe +of relief or pleasure. She presently stretched out a hand almost +caressingly to the thick trees and the grass, and said aloud: “Oh, the +beautiful trees and the long grass!” There was a whirr of birds’ wings +among the branches, and then, presently, there rose from a distance the +sweet, gurgling whistle of the nightingale. A smile as of reminiscence +crossed her face. Then she said, as if to herself: “It is the same. +I shall not die. I hear the birds’ wings, and one is singing. It is +pleasant to sleep in the long grass when the nights are summer, and to +hang your cradle in the trees.” + +She had asked for her own blanket, refusing a rug, when they left St. +Albans, and it had been given to her. She drew it about her now with a +feeling of comfort, and seemed to lose the horrible sense of strangeness +which had almost convulsed her when she was put into the carriage at the +railway station. Her reserve had hidden much of what she really felt; +but the drive through the limes had shown General Armour and his wife +that they had to do with a nature having capacities for sensitive +feeling; which, it is sometimes thought, is only the prerogative of +certain well-bred civilisations. + +But it was impossible that they should yet, or for many a day, feel any +sense of kinship with this aboriginal girl. Presently the carriage drew +up to the doorway, which was instantly opened to them. A broad belt +of light streamed out upon the stone steps. Far back in the hall stood +Marion, one hand upon the balustrade of the staircase, the other tightly +held at her side, as if to nerve herself for the meeting. The eyes of +the Indian girl pierced the light, and, as if by a strange instinct, +found those of Marion, even before she left the carriage. Lali felt +vaguely that here was her possible enemy. As she stepped out of the +carriage, General Armour’s hand under her elbow to assist her, she drew +her blanket something more closely about her, and so proceeded up +the steps. The composure of the servants was, in the circumstances, +remarkable. It needed to have been, for the courage displayed by Lali’s +two new guardians during the day almost faltered at the threshold of +their own home. Any sign of surprise or amusement on the part of the +domestics would have given them some painful moments subsequently. But +all was perfectly decorous. Marion still stood motionless, almost dazed, +The group advanced into the hall, and there paused, as if waiting for +her. + +At that moment Richard came out of the study at her right hand, took her +arm, and said quietly: “Come along, Marion. Let us be as brave as our +father and mother.” + +She gave a hard little gasp and seemed to awake as from a dream. She +quickly glided forwards ahead of him, kissed her mother and father +almost abruptly, then turned to the young wife with a scrutinising +eye. “Marion,” said her father, “this is your sister.” Marion stood +hesitating, confused. + +“Marion, dear,” repeated her mother ceremoniously, “this is your +brother’s wife.--Lali, this is your husband’s sister, Marion.” + +Mackenzie translated the words swiftly to the girl, and her eyes flashed +wide. Then in a low voice she said in English: “Yes, Marion, How!” + +It is probable that neither Marion nor any one present knew quite the +meaning of ‘How’, save Richard, and he could not suppress a smile, it +sounded so absurd and aboriginal. But at this exclamation Marion once +more came to herself. She could not possibly go so far as her mother did +at the dock and kiss this savage, but, with a rather sudden grasp of +the hand, she said, a little hysterically, for her brain was going round +like a wheel,--“Wo-won’t you let me take your blanket?” and forthwith +laid hold of it with tremulous politeness. + +The question sounded, for the instant, so ludicrous to Richard that, in +spite of the distressing situation, he had to choke back a laugh. Years +afterwards, if he wished for any momentary revenge upon Marion (and he +had a keen sense of wordy retaliation), he simply said: “Wo-won’t you +let me take your blanket?” + +Of course the Indian girl did not understand, but she submitted to the +removal of this uncommon mantle, and stood forth a less trying sight +to Marion’s eyes; for, as we said before, her buckskin costume set off +softly the good outlines of her form. + +The Indian girl’s eyes wandered from Marion to Richard. They wandered +from anxiety, doubt, and a bitter kind of reserve, to cordiality, +sympathy, and a grave kind of humour. Instantly the girl knew that she +had in eccentric Richard Armour a frank friend. Unlike as he was to +his brother, there was still in their eyes the same friendliness and +humanity. That is, it was the same look that Frank carried when he first +came to her father’s lodge. + +Richard held out his hand with a cordial little laugh and said: “Ah, ah, +very glad, very glad! Just in time for supper. Come along. How is Frank, +eh? how is Frank? Just so; just so. Pleasant journey, I suppose?” He +shook her hand warmly three or four times, and, as he held it, placed +his left hand over it and patted it patriarchally, as was his custom +with all the children and all the old ladies that he knew. + +“Richard,” said his mother, in a studiously neutral voice, “you might +see about the wine.” + +Then Richard appeared to recover himself, and did as he was requested, +but not until his brother’s wife had said to him in English, as they +courteously drew her towards the staircase: “Oh, my brother Richard, +How!” + +But the first strain and suspense were now over for the family, and it +is probable that never had they felt such relief as when they sat down +behind closed doors in their own rooms for a short respite, while the +Indian girl was closeted alone with Mackenzie and a trusted maid, in +what she called her wigwam. + + + + +CHAPTER V. AN AWKWARD HALF-HOUR + +It is just as well, perhaps, that the matter had become notorious. +Otherwise the Armours had lived in that unpleasant condition of being +constantly “discovered.” It was simply a case of aiming at absolute +secrecy, which had been frustrated by Frank himself, or bold and +unembarrassed acknowledgment and an attempt to carry things off with +a high hand. The latter course was the only one possible. It had +originally been Richard’s idea, appropriated by General Armour, and +accepted by Mrs. Armour and Marion with what grace was possible. The +publication of the event prepared their friends, and precluded the +necessity for reserve. What the friends did not know was whether they +ought or ought not to commiserate the Armours. It was a difficult +position. A death, an accident, a lost reputation, would have been +easy to them; concerning these there could be no doubt. But an Indian +daughter-in-law, a person in moccasins, was scarcely a thing to be +congratulated upon; and yet sympathy and consolation might be much +misplaced; no one could tell how the Armours would take it. For even +their closest acquaintances knew what kind of delicate hauteur was +possible to them. Even the “‘centric” Richard, who visited the cottages +of the poor, carrying soup and luxuries of many kinds, accompanying them +with the most wholesome advice a single man ever gave to families and +the heads of families, whose laugh was so cheery and spontaneous,--and +face so uncommonly grave and sad at times,--had a faculty for manner. +With astonishing suddenness he could raise insurmountable barriers; and +people, not of his order, who occasionally presumed on his simplicity of +life and habits, found themselves put distinctly ill at ease by a quiet, +curious look in his eye. No man was ever more the recluse and at the +same time the man of the world. He had had his bitter little comedy of +life, but it was different from that of his brother Frank. It was buried +very deep; not one of his family knew of it: Edward Lambert, and one +or two others who had good reason never to speak of it, were the only +persons possessing his secret. + +But all England knew of Frank’s mesalliance. And the question was, What +would people do? They very properly did nothing at first. They waited to +see how the Armours would act: they did not congratulate; they did not +console; that was left to those papers which chanced to resent General +Armour’s politics, and those others which were emotional and sensational +on every subject--particularly so where women were concerned. + +It was the beginning of the season, but the Armours had decided that +they would not go to town. That is, the general and his wife were +not going. They felt that they ought to be at Greyhope with their +daughter-in-law--which was to their credit. Regarding Marion they +had nothing to say. Mrs. Armour inclined to her going to town for the +season, to visit Mrs. Townley, who had thoughtfully written to her, +saying that she was very lonely, and begging Mrs. Armour to let her +come, if she would. She said that of course Marion would see much of her +people in town just the same. Mrs. Townley was a very clever and tactful +woman. + +She guessed that General Armour and his wife were not likely to come +to town, but that must not appear, and the invitation should be on a +different basis--as it was. + +It is probable that Marion saw through the delicate plot, but that did +not make her like Mrs. Townley less. These little pieces of art make +life possible, these tender fictions! + +Marion was, however, not in good humour; she was nervous and a little +petulant. She had a high-strung temperament, a sensitive perception of +the fitness of things, and a horror of what was gauche; and she would, +in brief, make a rather austere person if the lines of life did not run +in her favour. She had something of Frank’s impulsiveness and temper; +it would have been a great blessing to her if she had had a portion of +Richard’s philosophical humour also. She was at a point of tension--her +mother and Richard could see that. She was anxious--though for the world +she would not have had it thought so--regarding Captain Vidall. She had +never cared for anybody but him; it was possible she never would. But he +did not know this, and she was not absolutely sure that his evident but +as yet informal love would stand this strain--which shows how people +very honourable and perfect-minded in themselves may allow a large +margin to other people who are presumably honourable and perfect-minded +also. There was no engagement between them, and he was not bound in any +way, and could, therefore, without slashing the hem of the code, retire +without any apology; but they had had that unspoken understanding which +most people who love each other show even before a word of declaration +has passed their lips. If he withdrew because of this scandal there +might be some awkward hours for Frank Armour’s wife at Greyhope; but, +more than that, there would be a very hard-hearted young lady to play +her part in the deceitful world; she would be as merciless as she could +be. Naturally, being young, she exaggerated the importance of the event, +and brooded on it. It was different with her father and mother. They +were shocked and indignant at first, but when the first scene had been +faced they began to make the best of things all round. That is, they +proceeded at once to turn the North American Indian into a European--a +matter of no little difficulty. A governess was discussed; but General +Armour did not like the idea, and Richard opposed it heartily. She +must be taught English and educated, and made possible in “Christian +clothing,” as Mrs. Armour put it. Of the education they almost +despaired--all save Richard; time, instruction, vanity, and a dressmaker +might do much as to the other. + +The evening of her arrival, Lali would not, with any urging, put on +clothes of Marion’s which had been sent in to her. And the next morning +it was still the same. + +She came into the breakfast-room dressed still in buckskin and +moccasins, and though the grease had been taken out of her hair it +was still combed flat. Mrs. Armour had tried to influence her through +Mackenzie, but to no purpose. She was placidly stubborn. + +It had been unwisely told her by Mackenzie that they were Marion’s +clothes. They scarcely took in the fact that the girl had pride, that +she was the daughter of a chief, and a chieftainess herself, and that it +was far from happy to offer her Marion’s clothes to wear. + +Now, Richard, when he was a lad, had been on a journey to the South +Seas, and had learned some of the peculiarities of the native mind, and +he did not suppose that American Indians differed very much from certain +well-bred Polynesians in little matters of form and good taste. When +his mother told him what had occurred before Lali entered the +breakfast-room, he went directly to what he believed was the cause, +and advised tact with conciliation. He also pointed out that Lali was +something taller than Marion, and that she might be possessed of that +general trait of humanity-vanity. Mrs. Armour had not yet got used to +thinking of the girl in another manner than an intrusive being of a +lower order, who was there to try their patience, but also to do their +bidding. She had yet to grasp the fact that, being her son’s wife, she +must have, therefore, a position in the house, exercising a certain +authority over the servants, who, to Mrs. Armour, at first seemed of +superior stuff. But Richard said to her: “Mother, I fancy you don’t +quite grasp the position. The girl is the daughter of a chief, and the +descendant of a family of chiefs, perhaps through many generations. In +her own land she has been used to respect, and has been looked up to +pretty generally. Her garments are, I fancy, considered very smart in +the Hudson’s Bay country; and a finely decorated blanket like hers is +expensive up there. You see, we have to take the thing by comparison; so +please give the girl a chance.” + +And Mrs. Armour answered wearily, “I suppose you are right, Richard; you +generally are in the end, though why you should be I do not know, for +you never see anything of the world any more, and you moon about among +the cottagers. I suppose it’s your native sense and the books you read.” + +Richard laughed softly, but there was a queer ring in the laugh, and +he came over stumblingly and put his arm round his mother’s shoulder. +“Never mind how I get such sense as I have, mother; I have so much time +to think, it would be a wonder if I hadn’t some. But I think we had +better try to study her, and coax her along, and not fob her off as a +very inferior person, or we shall have our hands full in earnest. My +opinion is, she has got that which will save her and us too--a very high +spirit, which only needs opportunity to develop into a remarkable thing; +and, take my word for it, mother, if we treat her as a chieftainess, or +princess, or whatever she is, and not simply as a dusky person, we shall +come off better and she will come off better in the long run. She is not +darker than a Spaniard, anyhow.” At this point Marion entered the room, +and her mother rehearsed briefly to her what their talk had been. Marion +had had little sleep, and she only lifted her eyebrows at them at first. +She was in little mood for conciliation. She remembered all at once +that at supper the evening before her sister-in-law had said How! to +the butler, and had eaten the mayonnaise with a dessert spoon. But +presently, because she saw they waited for her to speak, she said, with +a little flutter of maliciousness: “Wouldn’t it be well for Richard--he +has plenty of time, and we are also likely to have it now--to put us all +through a course of instruction for the training of chieftainesses? +And when do you think she will be ready for a drawing-room--Her Majesty +Queen Victoria’s, or ours?” + +“Marion!” said Mrs. Armour severely; but Richard came round to her, and, +with his fresh, child-like humour, put his arm round her waist and added +“Marion, I’d be willing to bet--if I were in the habit of betting--my +shaky old pins here against a lock of your hair that you may present her +at any drawing-room--ours or Queen Victoria’s--in two years, if we go at +it right; and it would serve Master Frank very well if we turned her out +something, after all.” + +To which Mrs. Armour responded almost eagerly: “I wish it were only +possible, Richard. And what you say is true, I suppose, that she is of +rank in her own country, whatever value that may have.” + +Richard saw his advantage. “Well, mother,” he said, “a chieftainess is a +chieftainess, and I don’t know but to announce her as such, and--” + +“And be proud of it, as it were,” put in Marion, “and pose her, and +make her a prize--a Pocahontas, wasn’t it?--and go on pretending world +without end!” Marion’s voice was still slightly grating, but there +was in it too a faint sound of hope. “Perhaps,” she said to herself, +“Richard is right.” + +At this point the door opened and Lali entered, shown in by Colvin, +her newly-appointed maid, and followed by Mackenzie, and, as we said, +dressed still in her heathenish garments. She had a strong sense of +dignity, for she stood still and waited. Perhaps nothing could have +impressed Marion more. Had Lali been subservient simply, an entirely +passive, unintelligent creature, she would probably have tyrannised over +her in a soft, persistent fashion, and despised her generally. But Mrs. +Armour and Marion saw that this stranger might become very troublesome +indeed, if her temper were to have play. They were aware of capacities +for passion in those dark eyes, so musing yet so active in expression, +which moved swiftly from one object to another and then suddenly became +resolute. + +Both mother and daughter came forward, and held out their hands, +wishing her a pleasant good-morning, and were followed by Richard, and +immediately by General Armour, who had entered soon after her. She had +been keen enough to read (if a little vaguely) behind the scenes, and +her mind was wakening slowly to the peculiarity of the position she +occupied. The place awed her, and had broken her rest by perplexing her +mind, and she sat down to the breakfast-table with a strange hunted look +in her face. But opposite to her was a window opening to the ground, and +beyond it were the limes and beeches and a wide perfect sward and far +away a little lake, on which swans and wild fowl fluttered. Presently, +as she sat silent, eating little, her eyes lifted to the window. They +flashed instantly, her face lighted up with a weird kind of charm, and +suddenly she got to her feet with Indian exclamations on her lips, and, +as if unconscious of them all, went swiftly to the window and out of +it, waving her hands up and down once or twice to the trees and the +sunlight. + +“What did she say?” said Mrs. Armour, rising with the others. + +“She said,” replied Mackenzie, as she hurried towards the window, “that +they were her beautiful woods, and there were wild birds flying and +swimming in the water, as in her own country.” + +By this time all were at the window, Richard arriving last, and the +Indian girl turned on them, her body all quivering with excitement, +laughed a low, bird-like laugh, and then, clapping her hands above her +head, she swung round and ran like a deer towards the lake, shaking her +head back as an animal does when fleeing from his pursuers. She would +scarcely have been recognised as the same placid, speechless woman in a +blanket who sat with folded hands day after day on the Aphrodite. + +The watchers turned and looked at each other in wonder. Truly, their +task of civilising a savage would not lack in interest. The old general +was better pleased, however, at this display of activity and excitement +than at yesterday’s taciturnity. He loved spirit, even if it had to be +subdued, and he thought on the instant that he might possibly come +to look upon the fair savage as an actual and not a nominal +daughter-in-law. He had a keen appreciation of courage, and he thought +he saw in her face, as she turned upon them, a look of defiance or +daring, and nothing could have got at his nature quicker. If the case +had not been so near to his own hearthstone he would have chuckled. As +it was, he said good-humouredly that Mackenzie and Marion should go and +bring her back. But Mackenzie was already at that duty. Mrs. Armour had +had the presence of mind to send for Colvin; but presently, when +the general spoke, she thought it better that Marion should go, and +counselled returning to breakfast and not making the matter of too +much importance. This they did, Richard very reluctantly; while Marion, +rather pleased than not at the spirit shown by the strange girl, ran +away over the grass towards the lake, where Lali had now stopped. There +was a little bridge at one point where the lake narrowed, and Lali, +evidently seeing it all at once, went towards it, and ran up on it, +standing poised above the water about the middle of it. For an instant +an unpleasant possibility came into Marion’s mind: suppose the excited +girl intended suicide! She shivered as she thought of it, and yet--! +She put that horribly cruel and selfish thought away from her with an +indignant word at herself. She had passed Mackenzie, and came first to +the lake. Here she slackened, and waved her hand playfully to the girl, +so as not to frighten her; and then with a forced laugh came up panting +on the bridge, and was presently by Lali’s side. Lali eyed her a little +furtively, but, seeing that Marion was much inclined to be pleasant, she +nodded to her, said some Indian words hastily, and spread out her hands +towards the water. As she did so, Marion noticed again the beauty of +those hands and the graceful character of the gesture, so much so that +she forgot the flat hair and the unstayed body, and the rather broad +feet, and the delicate duskiness, which had so worked upon her in +imagination and in fact the evening before. She put her hand kindly on +that long slim hand stretched out beside her, and, because she knew +not what else to speak, and because the tongue is very perverse at +times,--saying the opposite of what is expected,--she herself blundered +out, “How! How! Lali.” + +Perhaps Lali was as much surprised at the remark as Marion herself, and +certainly very much more delighted. The sound of those familiar +words, spoken by accident as they were, opened the way to a better +understanding, as nothing else could possibly have done. Marion was +annoyed with herself, and yet amused too. If her mind had been perfectly +assured regarding Captain Vidall, it is probable that then and there +a peculiar, a genial, comradeship would have been formed. As it was, +Marion found this little event more endurable than she expected. She +also found that Lali, when she laughed in pleasant acknowledgment of +that How! had remarkably white and regular teeth. Indeed, Marion Armour +began to discover some estimable points in the appearance of her savage +sister-in-law. Marion remarked to herself that Lali might be a rather +striking person, if she were dressed, as her mother said, in Christian +garments, could speak the English language well--and was somebody else’s +sister-in-law. + +At this point Mackenzie came breathlessly to the bridge, and called +out a little sharply to Lali, rebuking her. In this Mackenzie made +a mistake; for not only did Lali draw herself up with considerable +dignity, but Marion, noticing the masterful nature of the tone, +instantly said: “Mackenzie, you must remember that you are speaking to +Mrs. Francis Armour, and that her position in General Armour’s house +is the same as mine. I hope it is not necessary to say anything more, +Mackenzie.” + +Mackenzie flushed. She was a sensible woman, she knew that she had +done wrong, and she said very promptly: “I am very sorry, miss. I was +flustered, and I expect I haven’t got used to speaking to--to Mrs. +Armour as I’ll be sure to do in the future.” + +As she spoke, two or three deer came trotting out of the beeches down +to the lake side. If Lali was pleased and excited before, she was +overwhelmed now. Her breath came in quick little gasps; she laughed; +she tossed her hands; she seemed to become dizzy with delight; and +presently, as if this new link with, and reminder of, her past, had +moved her as one little expects a savage heart to be moved, two tears +gathered in her eyes, then slid down her cheek unheeded, and dried +there in the sunlight, as she still gazed at the deer. Marion, at first +surprised, was now touched, as she could not have thought it possible +concerning this wild creature, and her hand went out and caught Lali’s +gently. At this genuine act of sympathy, instinctively felt by Lali, +the stranger in a strange land, husbanded and yet a widow, there came a +flood of tears, and, dropping on her knees, she leaned against the low +railing of the bridge and wept silently. So passionless was her grief +it seemed the more pathetic, and Marion dropped on her knees beside her, +put her arm round her shoulder, and said: “Poor girl! Poor girl!” + +At that Lali caught her hand, and held it, repeating after her the +words: “Poor girl! Poor girl!” + +She did not quite understand them, but she remembered that once just +before she parted from her husband at the Great Lakes he had said those +very words. If the fates had apparently given things into Frank Armour’s +hands when he sacrificed this girl to his revenge, they were evidently +inclined to play a game which would eventually defeat his purpose, +wicked as it had been in effect if not in absolute motive. What the end +of this attempt to engraft the Indian girl upon the strictest convention +of English social life would have been had her introduction not been at +Greyhope, where faint likenesses to her past surrounded her, it is hard +to conjecture. But, from present appearances, it would seem that Richard +Armour was not wholly a false prophet; for the savage had shown herself +that morning to possess, in their crudeness, some striking qualities of +character. Given character, many things are possible, even to those who +are not of the elect. + +This was the beginning of better things. Lali seemed to the Armours not +quite so impossible now. Had she been of the very common order of Indian +“pure and simple,” the task had resolved itself into making a common +savage into a very common European. But, whatever Lali was, it was +abundantly evident that she must be reckoned with at all points, and +that she was more likely to become a very startling figure in the Armour +household than a mere encumbrance to be blushed for, whose eternal +absence were preferable to her company. + +Years after that first morning Marion caught herself shuddering at +the thought that came to her when she saw Lali hovering on the bridge. +Whatever Marion’s faults were, she had a fine dislike of anything that +seemed unfair. She had not ridden to hounds for nothing. She had at +heart the sportsman’s instinct. It was upon this basis, indeed, that +Richard appealed to her in the first trying days of Lali’s life among +them. To oppose your will to Marion on the basis of superior knowledge +was only to turn her into a rebel; and a very effective rebel she made; +for she had a pretty gift at the retort courteous, and she could take +as much, and as well, as she gave. She rebelled at first at assisting in +Lali’s education, though by fits and starts she would teach her English +words, and help her to form long sentences, and was, on the whole, quite +patient. But Lali’s real instructors were Mrs. Armour and Richard--, her +best, Richard. + +The first few days she made but little progress, for everything was +strange to her, and things made her giddy--the servants, the formal +routine, the handsome furnishings, Marion’s music, the great house, the +many precise personal duties set for her, to be got through at stated +times; and Mrs. Armour’s rather grand manner. But there was the relief +to this, else the girl had pined terribly for her native woods and +prairies; this was the park, the deer, the lake, the hares, and birds. +While she sat saying over after Mrs. Armour words and phrases in +English, or was being shown how she must put on and wear the clothes +which a dressmaker from Regent Street had been brought to make, her eyes +would wander dreamily to the trees and the lake and the grass. They soon +discovered that she would pay no attention and was straightway difficult +to teach if she was not placed where she could look out on the park. +They had no choice, for though her resistance was never active it was +nevertheless effective. + +Presently she got on very swiftly with Richard. For he, with instinct +worthy of a woman, turned their lessons upon her own country and Frank. +This cost him something, but it had its reward. There was no more +listlessness. Previously Frank’s name had scarcely been spoken to her. +Mrs. Armour would have hours of hesitation and impotent regret before +she brought herself to speak of her son to his Indian wife. Marion tried +to do it a few times and failed; the general did it with rather a forced +voice and manner, because he saw that his wife was very tender upon the +point. But Richard, who never knew self-consciousness, spoke freely of +Frank when he spoke at all; and it was seeing Lali’s eyes brighten and +her look earnestly fixed on him when he chanced to mention Frank’s +name, that determined him on his new method of instruction. It had its +dangers, but he had calculated them all. The girl must be educated at +all costs. The sooner that occurred the sooner would she see her own +position and try to adapt herself to her responsibilities, and face the +real state of her husband’s attitude towards her. + +He succeeded admirably. Striving to tell him about her past life, and +ready to talk endlessly about her husband, of his prowess in the hunt, +of his strength and beauty, she also strove to find English words for +the purpose, and Richard supplied them with uncommon willingness. He +humoured her so far as to learn many Indian words and phrases, but he +was chary of his use of them, and tried hard to make her appreciative +of her new life and surroundings. He watched her waking slowly to an +understanding of the life, and of all that it involved. It gave him a +kind of fear, too, because she was sensitive, and there was the possible +danger of her growing disheartened or desperate, and doing some mad +thing in the hour that she wakened to the secret behind her marriage. + +His apprehensions were not without cause. For slowly there came into +Lali’s mind the element of comparison. She became conscious of it one +day when some neighbouring people called at Greyhope. Mrs. Armour, in +her sense of duty, which she had rigidly set before her, introduced Lali +into the drawing-room. The visitors veiled their curiosity and said some +pleasant casual things to the young wife, but she saw the half-curious, +half-furtive glances, she caught a sidelong glance and smile, and when +they were gone she took to looking at herself in a mirror, a thing she +could scarcely be persuaded to do before. She saw the difference between +her carriage and theirs, her manner of wearing her clothes and theirs, +her complexion and theirs. She exaggerated the difference. She brooded +on it. Now she sat downcast and timid, and hunted in face, as on the +first evening she came; now she appeared restless and excited. + +If Mrs. Armour was not exactly sympathetic with her, she was quiet and +forbearing, and General Armour, like Richard, tried to draw her out--but +not on the same subjects. He dwelt upon what she did; the walks she +took in the park, those hours in the afternoon when, with Mackenzie or +Colvin, she vanished into the beeches, making friends with the birds and +deer and swans. But most of all she loved to go to the stables. She was, +however, asked not to go unless Richard or General Armour was with her. +She loved horses, and these were a wonder to her. She had never known +any but the wild, ungroomed Indian pony, on which she had ridden in +every fashion and over every kind of country. Mrs. Armour sent for a +riding-master, and had riding-costumes made for her. It was intended +that she should ride every day as soon as she seemed sufficiently +presentable. This did not appear so very far off, for she improved daily +in appearance. Her hair was growing finer, and was made up in the modest +prevailing fashion; her skin, no longer exposed to an inclement climate, +and subject to the utmost care, was smoother and fairer; her feet, +encased in fine, well-made boots, looked much smaller; her waist was +shaped to fashion, and she was very straight and lissom. So many things +she did jarred on her relatives, that they were not fully aware of the +great improvement in her appearance. Even Richard admitted her trying at +times. + +Marion went up to town to stay with Mrs. Townley, and there had to face +a good deal of curiosity. People looked at her sometimes as if it was +she and not Lali that was an Indian. But she carried things off bravely +enough, and answered those kind inquiries, which one’s friends make when +we are in embarrassing situations, with answers so calm and pleasant +that people did not know what to think. + +“Yes,” she said, in reply to Lady Balwood, “her sister-in-law might be +in town later in the year, perhaps before the season was over: she could +not tell. She was tired after her long voyage, and she preferred the +quiet of Greyhope; she was fond of riding and country-life; but still +she would come to town for a time.” And so on. + +“Ah, dear me, how charming! And doesn’t she resent her husband’s +absence--during the honeymoon? or did the honeymoon occur before she +came over to England?” And Lady Balwood tried to say it all playfully, +and certainly said it something loudly. She had daughters. + +But Marion was perfectly prepared. Her face did not change expression. +“Yes, they had had their honeymoon on the prairies; Frank was so +fascinated with the life and the people. He had not come home at once, +because he was making she did not know how great a fortune over there in +investments, and so Mrs. Armour came on before him, and, of course, as +soon as he could get away from his business, he would follow his wife.” + +And though Marion smiled, her heart was very hot, and she could have +slain Lady Balwood in her tracks. Lady Balwood then nodded a little +patronisingly, and babbled that “she hoped so much to see Mrs. Francis +Armour. She must be so very interesting, the papers said so much about +her.” + +Now, while this conversation was going on, some one stood not far behind +Marion, who seemed much interested in her and what she said. But Marion +did not see this person. She was startled presently, however, to hear a +strong voice say softly over her shoulder: “What a charming woman Lady +Balwood is! And so ingenuous!” + +She was grateful, tremulous, proud. Why had he--Captain Vidall--kept out +of the way all these weeks, just when she needed him most, just when he +should have played the part of a man? Then she was feeling twinges at +the heart, too. She had seen Lady Agnes Martling that afternoon, and had +noticed how the news had worn on her. She felt how much better it had +been had Frank come quietly home and married her, instead of doing the +wild, scandalous thing that was making so many heart-burnings. A few +minutes ago she had longed for a chance to say something delicately acid +to Lady Haldwell, once Julia Sherwood, who was there. Now there was a +chance to give her bitter spirit tongue. She was glad--she dared not +think how glad--to hear that voice again; but she was angry too, and he +should suffer for it--the more so because she recognised in the tone, +and afterwards in his face, that he was still absorbingly interested in +her. There was a little burst of thanksgiving in her heart, and then she +prepared a very notable commination service in her mind. + +This meeting had been deftly arranged by Mrs. Townley, with the help +of Edward Lambert, who now held her fingers with a kind of vanity of +possession whenever he bade her good-bye or met her. Captain Vidall had, +in fact, been out of the country, had only been back a week, and had +only heard of Frank Armour’s mesalliance from Lambert at an At Home +forty-eight hours before. Mrs. Townley guessed what was really at the +bottom of Marion’s occasional bitterness, and, piecing together many +little things dropped casually by her friend, had come to the conclusion +that the happiness of two people was at stake. + +When Marion shook hands with Captain Vidall she had herself exceedingly +well under control. She looked at him in slight surprise, and casually +remarked that they had not chanced to meet lately in the run of +small-and-earlies. She appeared to be unconscious that he had been out +of the country, and also that she had been till very recently indeed at +Greyhope. He hastened to assure her that he had been away, and to lay +siege to this unexpected barrier. He knew all about Frank’s affair, and, +though it troubled him, he did not see why it should make any difference +in his regard for Frank’s sister. Fastidious as he was in all things, he +was fastidiously deferential. Not an exquisite, he had all that vanity +as to appearance so usual with the military man; himself of the +most perfect temper and sweetness of manner and conduct, the unusual +disturbed him. Not possessed of a vivid imagination, he could scarcely +conjure up this Indian bride at Greyhope. + +But face to face with Marion Armour he saw what troubled his mind, +and he determined he would not meet her irony with irony, her assumed +indifference with indifference. He had learned one of the most important +lessons of life--never to quarrel with a woman. Whoever has so far erred +has been foolish indeed. It is the worst of policy, to say nothing of +its being the worst of art; and life should never be without art. It +is absurd to be perfectly natural; anything, anybody can be that. +Well, Captain Hume Vidall was something of an artist, more, however, +in principle than by temperament. He refused to recognise the rather +malicious adroitness with which Marion turned his remarks again upon +himself, twisted out of all semblance. He was very patient. He inquired +quietly, and as if honestly interested, about Frank, and said--because +he thought it safest as well as most reasonable--that, naturally, they +must have been surprised at his marrying a native; but he himself had +seen some such marriages turn out very well--in Japan, India, the South +Sea Islands, and Canada. He assumed that Marion’s sister-in-law was +beautiful, and then disarmed Marion by saying that he thought of going +down to Greyhope immediately, to call on General Armour and Mrs. Armour, +and wondered if she was going back before the end of the season. + +Quick as Marion was, this was said so quietly that she did not quite see +the drift of it. She had intended staying in London to the end of the +season, not because she enjoyed it, but because she was determined to +face Frank’s marriage at every quarter, and have it over, once for all, +so far as herself was concerned. But now, taken slightly aback, she +said, almost without thinking, that she would probably go back soon--she +was not quite sure; but certainly her father and mother would be glad to +see Captain Vidall at any time. + +Then, without any apparent relevancy, he asked her if Mrs. Frank Armour +still wore her Indian costume. In any one else the question had seemed +impertinent; in him it had a touch of confidence, of the privilege of +close friendship. Then he said, with a meditative look and a very calm, +retrospective voice, that he was once very much in love with a native +girl in India, and might have become permanently devoted to her, were it +not for the accident of his being ordered back to England summarily. + +This was a piece of news which cut two ways. In the first place it +lessened the extraordinary character of Frank’s marriage, and it roused +in her an immediate curiosity--which a woman always feels in the past +“affairs” of her lover, or possible lover. Vidall did not take pains to +impress her with the fact that the matter occurred when he was almost a +boy; and it was when her earnest inquisition had drawn from him, bit by +bit, the circumstances of the case, and she had forgotten many parts of +her commination service and to preserve an effective neutrality in tone, +that she became aware he was speaking ancient history. Then it was too +late to draw back. + +They had threaded their way through the crowd into the conservatory, +where they were quite alone, and there, with only a little pyramid of +hydrangeas between them, which she could not help but notice chimed well +with the colour of her dress, he dropped his voice a little lower, and +then suddenly said, his eyes hard on her: “I want your permission to go +to Greyhope.” + +The tone drew her eyes hastily to his, and, seeing, she dropped them +again. Vidall had a strong will, and, what is of more consequence, a +peculiarly attractive voice. It had a vibration which made some of his +words organ-like in sound. She felt the influence of it. She said a +little faintly, her fingers toying with a hydrangea: “I am afraid I do +not understand. There is no reason why you should not go to Greyhope +without my permission.” + +“I cannot go without it,” he persisted. “I am waiting for my commission +from you.” + +She dropped her hand from the flower with a little impatient motion. +She was tired, her head ached, she wanted to be alone. “Why are you +enigmatical?” she said. Then quickly: “I wish I knew what is in your +mind. You play with words so.” + +She scarcely knew what she said. A woman who loves a man very much is +not quick to take in the absolute declaration of that man’s love on the +instant; it is too wonderful for her. He felt his check flush with hers, +he drew her look again to his. “Marion! Marion!” he said. That was all. + +“Oh, hush, some one is coming!” was her quick, throbbing reply. When +they parted a half-hour later, he said to her: “Will you give me my +commission to go to Greyhope?” + +“Oh no, I cannot,” she said very gravely; “but come to Greyhope-when I +go back.” + +“And when will that be?” he said, smiling, yet a little ruefully too. + +“Please ask Mrs. Townley,” she replied; “she is coming also.” + +Marion, knew what that commission to go to Greyhope meant. But she +determined that he should see Lali first, before anything irrevocable +was done. She still looked upon Frank’s marriage as a scandal. Well, +Captain Vidall should face it in all its crudeness. So, in a week or +less, Marion and Mrs. Townley were in Greyhope. + +Two months had gone since Lali arrived in England, and yet no letter had +come to her, or to any of them, from Frank. Frank’s solicitor in London +had written him fully of her arrival, and he had had a reply, with +further instructions regarding money to be placed to General Armour’s +credit for the benefit of his wife. Lali, as she became Europeanised, +also awoke to the forms and ceremonies of her new life. She had +overheard Frank’s father and mother wondering, and fretting as they +wondered, why they had not received any word from him. General Armour +had even called him a scoundrel, which sent Frank’s mother into tears. +Then Lali had questioned Mackenzie and Colvin, for she had increasing +shrewdness, and she began to feel her actual position. She resented +General Armour’s imputation, but in her heart she began to pine and +wonder. At times, too, she was fitful, and was not to be drawn out. But +she went on improving in personal appearance and manner and in learning +the English language. Mrs. Townley’s appearance marked a change in her. +When they met she suddenly stood still and trembled. When Mrs. Townley +came to her and took her hand and kissed her, she shivered, and then +caught her about the shoulders lightly, but was silent. After a little +she said: “Come--come to my wigwam, and talk with me.” + +She said it with a strange little smile, for now she recognised that +the word wigwam was not to be used in her new life. But Mrs. Townley +whispered: “Ask Marion to come too.” + +Lali hesitated, and then said, a little maliciously: “Marion, will you +come to my wigwam?” + +Marion ran to her, caught her about the waist, and replied gaily: “Yes, +we will have a pow-wow--is that right--is pow-wow right?” + +The Indian girl shook her head with a pretty vagueness, and vanished +with them. General Armour walked up and down the room briskly, then +turned on his wife and said: “Wife, it was a brutal thing: Frank doesn’t +deserve to be--the father of her child.” + +But Lali had moods--singular moods. She indulged in one three days after +the arrival of Marion and Mrs. Townley. She had learned to ride with the +side-saddle, and wore her riding-dress admirably. Nowhere did she show +to better advantage. She had taken to riding now with General Armour on +the country roads. On this day Captain Vidall was expected, he having +written to ask that he might come. What trouble Lali had with one of the +servants that morning was never thoroughly explained, but certain it +is, she came to have a crude notion of why Frank Armour married her. The +servant was dismissed duly, but that was after the contre-temps. + +It was late afternoon. Everybody had been busy, because one or two other +guests were expected besides Captain Vidall. Lali had kept to herself, +sending word through Richard that she would not “be English,” as she +vaguely put it, that day. She had sent Mackenzie on some mission. She +sat on the floor of her room, as she used to sit on the ground in her +father’s lodge. Her head was bowed in her hands, and her arms rested on +her knees. Her body swayed to and fro. Presently all motion ceased. She +became perfectly still. She looked before her as if studying something. + +Her eyes immediately flashed. She rose quickly to her feet, went to her +wardrobe, and took out her Indian costume and blanket, with which she +could never be induced to part. Almost feverishly she took off the +clothes she wore and hastily threw them from her. Then she put on the +buckskin clothes in which she had journeyed to England, drew down her +hair as she used to wear it, fastened round her waist a long red sash +which had been given her by a governor of the Hudson’s Bay Company +when he had visited her father’s country, threw her blanket round her +shoulders, and then eyed herself in the great mirror in the room. What +she saw evidently did not please her perfectly, for she stretched out +her hands and looked at them; she shook her head at herself and put her +hand to her cheeks and pinched them, they were not so brown as they once +were, then she thrust out her foot. She drew it back quickly in disdain. +Immediately she caught the fashionable slippers from her feet and threw +them among the discarded garments. She looked at herself again. Still +she was not satisfied, but she threw up her arms, as with a sense +of pleasure and freedom, and laughed at herself. She pushed out her +moccasined foot, tapped the floor with it, nodded towards it, and said +a word or two in her own language. She heard some one in the next room, +possibly Mackenzie. She stepped to the door leading into the hall, +opened it, went out, travelled its length, ran down a back hallway, out +into the park, towards the stables, her blanket, as her hair, flying +behind her. + +She entered the stables, made for a horse that she had ridden much, put +a bridle on him, led him out before any one had seen her, and, catching +him by the mane, suddenly threw herself on him at a bound, and, giving +him a tap with a short whip she had caught up in the stable, headed him +for the main avenue and the open road. Then a stableman saw her and ran +after, but he might as well have tried to follow the wind. He forthwith +proceeded to saddle another horse. Boulter also saw her as she passed +the house, and, running in, told Mrs. Armour and the general. They both +ran to the window and saw dashing down the avenue--a picture out of +Fenimore Cooper; a saddleless horse with a rider whose fingers merely +touched the bridle, riding as on a journey of life and death. + +“My God, it’s Lali! She’s mad--she’s mad! She is striking that horse! It +will bolt! It will kill her!” cried the general. + +Then he rushed for a horse to follow her. Mrs. Armour’s hands clasped +painfully. For an instant she had almost the same thought as had Marion +on the first morning of Lali’s coming; but that passed, and left +her gazing helplessly after the horse-woman. The flying blanket had +frightened the blooded horse, and he made desperate efforts to fulfil +the general’s predictions. + +Lali soon found that she had miscalculated. She was not riding an +Indian pony, but a crazed, high-strung horse. As they flew, she sitting +superbly and tugging at the bridle, the party coming from the railway +station entered the great gate, accompanied by Richard and Marion. In +a moment they sighted this wild pair bearing down upon them with a +terrible swiftness. + +As Marion recognised Lali she turned pale and cried out, rising in her +seat. Instinctively Captain Vidall knew who it was, though he could not +guess the cause of the singular circumstance. He saw that the horse +had bolted, but also that the rider seemed entirely fearless. “Why, +in Heaven’s name,” he said between his teeth, “doesn’t she let go that +blanket!” + +At that moment Lali did let it go, and the horse dashed by them, making +hard for the gate. “Turn the horses round and follow her,” said Vidall +to the driver. While this was doing, Marion caught sight of her father +riding hard down the avenue. He passed them, and called to them to hurry +on after him. + +Lali had not the slightest sense of fear, but she knew that the horse +had gone mad. When they passed through the gate and swerved into the +road, a less practised rider would have been thrown. She sat like wax. +The pace was incredible for a mile, and though General Armour rode well, +he was far behind. + +Suddenly a trap appeared in the road in front of them, and the driver, +seeing the runaway, set his horses at right angles to the road. It +served the purpose only to provide another danger. Not far from where +the trap was drawn, and between it and the runaway, was a lane, which +ended at a farmyard in a cul-de-sac. The horse swerved into it, not +slacking its pace, and in the fraction of a minute came to the farmyard. + +But now the fever was in Lali’s blood. She did not care whether she +lived or died. A high hedge formed the cul-de-sac. When she saw the +horse slacking she cut it savagely across the head twice with a whip, +and drove him at the green wall. He was of too good make to refuse it, +stiff as it was. He rose to it magnificently, and cleared it; but +almost as he struck the ground squarely, he staggered and fell--the girl +beneath him. He had burst a blood-vessel. The ground was soft and wet; +the weight of the horse prevented her from getting free. She felt its +hoof striking in its death-struggles, and once her shoulder was struck. +Instinctively she buried her face in the mud, and her arms covered her +head. + +And then she knew no more. + +When she came to, she was in the carriage within the gates of Greyhope, +and Marion was bending over her. She suddenly tried to lift herself, but +could not. Presently she saw another face--that of General Armour. It +was stern, and yet his eyes were swimming as he looked at her. + +“How!” she said to him--“How!” and fainted again. + + + + +CHAPTER VI. THE PASSING OF THE YEARS + +Lali’s recovery was not rapid. A change had come upon her. With that +strange ride had gone the last strong flicker of the desire for savage +life in her. She knew now the position she held towards her husband: +that he had never loved her; that she was only an instrument for +unworthy retaliation. So soon as she could speak after her accident, she +told them that they must not write to him and tell him of it. She also +made them promise that they would give him no news of her at all, save +that she was well. They could not refuse to promise; they felt she had +the right to demand much more than that. They had begun to care for her +for herself, and when the months went by, and one day there was a hush +about her room, and anxiety, and then relief, in the faces of all, they +came to care for her still more for the sake of her child. + +As the weeks passed, the fair-haired child grew more and more like +his father; but if Lali thought of her husband they never knew it by +anything she said, for she would not speak of him. She also made them +promise that they would not write to him of the child’s birth. Richard, +with his sense of justice, and knowing how much the woman had been +wronged, said that in all this she had done quite right; that Frank, if +he had done his duty after marrying her, should have come with her. And +because they all felt that Richard had been her best friend as well as +their own, they called the child after him. This also was Lali’s wish. +Coincident with her motherhood there came to Lali a new purpose. She had +not lived with the Armours without absorbing some of their fine social +sense and dignity. This, added to the native instinct of pride in her, +gave her a new ambition. As hour by hour her child grew dear to her, +so hour by hour her husband grew away from her. She schooled herself +against him.--At times she thought she hated him. She felt she could +never forgive him, but she would prove to him that it was she who had +made the mistake of her life in marrying him; that she had been wronged, +not he; and that his sin would face him with reproach and punishment one +day. Richard’s prophecy was likely to come true: she would defeat very +perfectly indeed Frank’s intentions. After the child was born, so soon +as she was able, she renewed her studies with Richard and Mrs. Armour. +She read every morning for hours; she rode; she practised all those +graceful arts of the toilet which belong to the social convention; she +showed an unexpected faculty for singing, and practised it faithfully; +and she begged Mrs. Armour and Marion to correct her at every point +where correction seemed necessary. When the child was two years old, +they all went to London, something against Lali’s personal feelings, but +quite in accord with what she felt her duty. + +Richard was left behind at Greyhope. For the first time in eighteen +months he was alone with his old quiet duties and recreations. During +that time he had not neglected his pensioners,--his poor, sick, halt, +and blind, but a deeper, larger interest had come into his life in the +person of Lali. During all that time she had seldom been out of his +sight, never out of his influence and tutelage. His days had been full, +his every hour had been given a keen, responsible interest. As if +by tacit consent, every incident or development of Lali’s life was +influenced by his judgment and decision. He had been more to her than +General Armour, Mrs. Armour, or Marion. Schooled as he was in all the +ways of the world, he had at the same time a mind as sensitive as a +woman’s, an indescribable gentleness, a persuasive temperament. Since, +years before, he had withdrawn from the social world and become +a recluse, many of his finer qualities had gone into an indulgent +seclusion. He had once loved the world and the gay life of London, but +some untoward event, coupled with a radical love of retirement, had sent +him into years of isolation at Greyhope. + +His tutelar relations with Lali had reopened many an old spring +of sensation and experience. Her shy dependency, her innocent +inquisitiveness, had searched out his remotest sympathies. In teaching +her he had himself been re-taught. Before she came he had been satisfied +with the quiet usefulness and studious ease of his life. But in her +presence something of his old youthfulness came back, some reflection of +the ardent hopes of his young manhood. He did not notice the change +in himself. He only knew that his life was very full. He read later at +nights, he rose earlier in the morning. But unconsciously to himself, +he was undergoing a change. The more a man’s sympathies and emotions +are active, the less is he the philosopher. It is only when one has +withdrawn from the more personal influence of the emotions that one’s +philosophy may be trusted. One may be interested in mankind and still +be philosophical--may be, as it were, the priest and confessor to all +comers. But let one be touched in some vital corner in one’s nature, +and the high, faultless impartiality is gone. In proportion as Richard’s +interest in Lali had grown, the universal quality of his sympathy had +declined. Man is only man. Not that his benefactions as lord-bountiful +in the parish had grown perfunctory, but the calm detail of his interest +was not so definite. He was the same, yet not the same. + +He was not aware of any difference in himself. He did not know that +he looked younger by ten years. Such is the effect of mere personal +sympathy upon a man’s look and bearing. When, therefore, one bright May +morning, the family at Greyhope, himself excluded, was ready to start +for London, he had no thought but that he would drop back into his old +silent life, as it was before Lali came, and his brother’s child was +born. He was not conscious that he was very restless that morning; he +scarcely was aware that he had got up two hours earlier than usual. At +the breakfast-table he was cheerful and alert. After breakfast he amused +himself in playing with the child till the carriage was brought round. +It was such a morning as does not come a dozen times a year in England. +The sweet, moist air blew from the meadows and up through the lime trees +with a warm, insinuating gladness. The lawn sloped delightfully away to +the flowered embrasures of the park, and a fragrant abundance of flowers +met the eye and cheered the senses. While Richard loitered on the steps +with the child and its nurse, more excited than he knew, Lali came +out and stood beside him. At the moment Richard was looking into the +distance. He did not hear her when she came. She stood near him for a +moment, and did not speak. Her eyes followed the direction of his look, +and idled tenderly with the prospect before her. She did not even notice +the child. The same thought was in the mind of both--with a difference. +Richard was wondering how any one could choose to change the sweet +dignity of that rural life for the flaring, hurried delights of London +and the season. He had thought this a thousand times, and yet, though he +would have been little willing to acknowledge it, his conviction was not +so impregnable as it had been. + +Mrs. Francis Armour was stepping from the known to the unknown. She was +leaving the precincts of a life in which, socially, she had been born +again. Its sweetness and benign quietness had all worked upon her nature +and origin to change her. In that it was an out-door life, full of +freshness and open-air vigour, it was not antagonistic to her past. Upon +this sympathetic basis had been imposed the conditions of a fine social +decorum. The conditions must still exist. But how would it be when she +was withdrawn from this peaceful activity of nature and set down among +“those garish lights” in Cavendish Square and Piccadilly? She hardly +knew to what she was going as yet. There had been a few social functions +at Greyhope since she had come, but that could give her, after all, but +little idea of the swing and pressure of London life. + +At this moment she was lingering over the scene before her. She was +wondering with the naive wonder of an awakened mind. She had intended +many times of late saying to Richard all the native gratitude she felt; +yet somehow she had never been able to say it. The moment of parting had +come. + +“What are you thinking of, Richard?” she said now. He started and turned +towards her. + +“I hardly know,” he answered. “My thoughts were drifting.” + +“Richard,” she said abruptly, “I want to thank you.” + +“Thank me for what, Lali?” he questioned. + +“To thank you, Richard, for everything--since I came, over three years +ago.” + +He broke out into a soft little laugh, then, with his old good-natured +manner, caught her hand as he did the first night she came to Greyhope, +patted it in a fatherly fashion, and said: + +“It is the wrong way about, Lali; I ought to be thanking you, not you +me. Why, look what a stupid old fogy I was then, toddling about the +place with too much time on my hands, reading a lot and forgetting +everything; and here you came in, gave me something to do, made the +little I know of any use, and ran a pretty gold wire down the rusty +fiddle of life. If there are any speeches of gratitude to be made, they +are mine, they are mine.” + +“Richard,” she said very quietly and gravely, “I owe you more than I can +ever say--in English. You have taught me to speak in your tongue enough +for all the usual things of life, but one can only speak from the depths +of one’s heart in one’s native tongue. And see,” she added, with a +painful little smile, “how strange it would sound if I were to tell you +all I thought in the language of my people--of my people, whom I shall +never see again. Richard, can you understand what it must be to have +a father whom one is never likely to see again--whom, if one did see +again, something painful would happen? We grow away from people against +our will; we feel the same towards them, but they cannot feel the same +towards us; for their world is in another hemisphere. We want to love +them, and we love, remember, and are glad to meet them again, but +they feel that we are unfamiliar, and, because we have grown different +outwardly, they seem to miss some chord that used to ring. Richard, +I--I--” She paused. + +“Yes, Lali,” he assented--“yes, I understand you so far; but speak out.” + +“I am not happy,” she said. “I never shall be happy. I have my child, +and that is all I have. I cannot go back to the life in which I was +born; I must go on as I am, a stranger among a strange people, pitied, +suffered, cared for a little--and that is all.” + +The nurse had drawn away a little distance with the child. The rest of +the family were making their preparations inside the house. There was no +one near to watch the singular little drama. + +“You should not say that,” he added; “we all feel you to be one of us.” + +“But all your world does not feel me to be one of them,” she rejoined. + +“We shall see about that when you go up to town. You are a bit morbid, +Lali. I don’t wonder at your feeling a little shy; but then you will +simply carry things before you--now you take my word for it! For I know +London pretty well.” + +She held out her ungloved hands. + +“Do they compare with the white hands of the ladies you know?” she said. + +“They are about the finest hands I have ever seen,” he replied. “You +can’t see yourself, sister of mine.” + +“I do not care very much to see myself,” she said. “If I had not a maid +I expect I should look very shiftless, for I don’t care to look in a +mirror. My only mirror used to be a stream of water in summer,” she +added, “and a corner of a looking-glass got from the Hudson’s Bay fort +in the winter.” + +“Well, you are missing a lot of enjoyment,” he said, “if you do not +use your mirror much. The rest of us can appreciate what you would see +there.” + +She reached out and touched his arm. + +“Do you like to look at me?” she questioned, with a strange simple +candour. + +For the first time in many a year, Richard Armour blushed like a girl +fresh from school. The question had come so suddenly, it had gone so +quickly into a sensitive corner of his nature, that he lost command of +himself for the instant, yet had little idea why the command was lost. +He touched the fingers on his arm affectionately. + +“Like to look at you--like to look at you? Why, of course we all like to +look at you. You are very fine and handsome and interesting.” + +“Richard,” she said, drawing her hands away, “is that why you like to +look at me?” + +He had recovered himself. He laughed in his old hearty way, and said: + +“Yes, yes; why, of course! Come, let us go and see the boy,” he added, +taking her arm and hurrying her down the steps. “Come and let us see +Richard Joseph, the pride of all the Armours.” + +She moved beside him in a kind of dream. She had learned much since she +came to Greyhope, and yet she could not at that moment have told exactly +why she asked Richard the question that had confused him, nor did she +know quite what lay behind the question. But every problem which has +life works itself out to its appointed end, if fumbling human fingers +do not meddle with it. Half the miseries of this world are caused by +forcing issues, in every problem of the affections, the emotions, +and the soul. There is a law working with which there should be +no tampering, lest in foolish interruption come only confusion and +disaster. Against every such question there should be written the one +word, “Wait.” + +Richard Armour stooped over the child. “A beauty,” he said, “a perfect +little gentleman. Like Richard Joseph Armour there is none,” he added. + +“Whom do you think he looks like, Richard?” she asked. This was a +question she had never asked before since the child was born. Whom the +child looked like every one knew; but within the past year and a half +Francis Armour’s name had seldom been mentioned, and never in connection +with the child. The child’s mother asked the question with a strange +quietness. Richard answered it without hesitation. + +“The child looks like Frank,” he said. “As like him as can be.” + +“I am glad,” she said, “for all your sakes.” + +“You are very deep this morning, Lali,” Richard said, with a kind of +helplessness. “Frank will be pretty proud of the youngster when he comes +back. But he won’t be prouder of him than I am.” + +“I know that,” she said. “Won’t you be lonely without the boy--and me, +Richard?” + +Again the question went home. “Lonely? I should think I would,” he said. +“I should think I would. But then, you see, school is over, and the +master stays behind and makes up the marks. You will find London a +jollier master than I am, Lali. There’ll be lots of shows, and plenty to +do, and smart frocks, and no end of feeds and frolics; and that is more +amusing than studying three hours a day with a dry old stick like me. I +tell you what, when Frank comes--” + +She interrupted him. “Do not speak of that,” she said. Then, with a +sudden burst of feeling, though her words were scarcely audible: “I owe +you everything, Richard--everything that is good. I owe him nothing, +Richard--nothing but what is bitter.” + +“Hush, hush,” he said; “you must not speak that way. Lali, I want to say +to you--” + +At that moment General Armour, Mrs. Armour, and Marion appeared on the +door-step, and the carriage came wheeling up the drive. What Richard +intended to say was left unsaid. The chances were it never would be +said. + +“Well, well,” said General Armour, calling down at them, “escort his +imperial highness to the chariot which awaits him, and then ho! for +London town. Come along, my daughter,” he said to Lali; “come up here +and take the last whiff of Greyhope that you will have for six months. +Dear, dear, what lunatics we all are, to be sure! Why, we’re as happy +as little birds in their nests out in the decent country, and yet we +scamper off to a smoky old city by the Thames to rush along with the +world, instead of sitting high and far away from it and watching it go +by. God bless my soul, I’m old enough to know better! Well, let me help +you in, my dear,” he added to his wife; “and in you go, Marion; and in +you go, your imperial highness”--he passed the child awkwardly in to +Marion; “and in you go, my daughter,” he added, as he handed Lali in, +pressing her hand with a brusque fatherliness as he did so. He then got +in after them. + +Richard came to the side of the carriage and bade them all good-bye one +by one. Lali gave him her hand, but did not speak a word. He called a +cheerful adieu, the horses were whipped up, and in a moment Richard was +left alone on the steps of the house. He stood for a time looking, then +he turned to go into the house, but changed his mind, sat down, lit +a cigar, and did not move from his seat until he was summoned to his +lonely luncheon. + +Nobody thought much of leaving Richard behind at Greyhope. It seemed +the natural thing to do. But still he had not been left alone--entirely +alone--for three years or more. + +The days and weeks went on. If Richard had been accounted eccentric +before, there was far greater cause for the term now. Life dragged. +Too much had been taken out of his life all at once; for, in the first +place, the family had been drawn together more during the trouble which +Lali’s advent had brought; then the child and its mother, his pupil, +were gone also. He wandered about in a kind of vague unrest. The hardest +thing in this world to get used to is the absence of a familiar footstep +and the cheerful greeting of a familiar eye. And the man with no chick +or child feels even the absence of his dog from the hearth-rug when +he returns from a journey or his day’s work. It gives him a sense of +strangeness and loss. But when it is the voice of a woman and the hand +of a child that is missed, you can back no speculation upon that man’s +mood or mind or conduct. There is no influence like the influence of +habit, and that is how, when the minds of people are at one, physical +distances and differences, no matter how great, are invisible, or at +least not obvious. + +Richard Armour was a sensible man; but when one morning he suddenly +packed a portmanteau and went up to town to Cavendish Square, the act +might be considered from two sides of the equation. If he came back +to enter again into the social life which, for so many years, he had +abjured, it was not very sensible, because the world never welcomes its +deserters; it might, if men and women grew younger instead of older. If +he came to see his family, or because he hungered for his godchild, or +because--but we are hurrying the situation. It were wiser not to state +the problem yet. The afternoon that he arrived at Cavendish Square +all his family were out except his brother’s wife. Lali was in the +drawing-room, receiving a visitor who had asked for Mrs. Armour and Mrs. +Francis Armour. The visitor was received by Mrs. Francis Armour. The +visitor knew that Mrs. Armour was not at home. She had by chance seen +her and Marion in Bond Street, and was not seen by them. She straightway +got into her carriage and drove up to Cavendish Square, hoping to find +Mrs. Francis Armour at home. There had been house-parties at Greyhope +since Lali had come there to live, but this visitor, though once an +intimate friend of the family, had never been a guest. + +The visitor was Lady Haldwell, once Miss Julia Sherwood, who had made +possible what was called Francis Armour’s tragedy. Since Lali had come +to town Lady Haldwell had seen her, but had never met her. She was not +at heart wicked, but there are few women who can resist an opportunity +of anatomising and reckoning up the merits and demerits of a woman who +has married an old lover. When that woman is in the position of +Lali, the situation has an unusual piquancy and interest. Hence Lady +Haldwell’s journey of inquisition to Cavendish Square. + +As Richard passed the drawing-room door to ascend the stairs, he +recognised the voices. + +Once a sort of heathen, as Mrs. Francis Armour had been, she still could +grasp the situation with considerable clearness. There is nothing +keener than one woman’s instinct regarding another woman, where a man +is concerned. Mrs. Francis Armour received Lady Haldwell with a quiet +stateliness, which, if it did not astonish her, gave her sufficient +warning that matters were not, in this little comedy, to be all her own +way. + +Thrown upon the mere resources of wit and language, Mrs. Francis Armour +must have been at a disadvantage. For Lady Haldwell had a good gift of +speech, a pretty talent for epithet, and no unnecessary tenderness. She +bore Lali no malice. She was too decorous and high for that. In her +mind the wife of the man she had discarded was a mere commonplace +catastrophe, to be viewed without horror, maybe with pity. She had heard +the alien spoken well of by some people; others had seemed indignant +that the Armours should try to push “a red woman” into English society. +Truth is, the Armours did not try at all to push her. For over three +years they had let society talk. They had not entertained largely in +Cavendish Square since Lali came, and those invited to Greyhope had +a chance to refuse the invitations if they chose. Most people did not +choose to decline them. But Lady Haldwell was not of that number. She +had never been invited. But now in town, when entertainment must be more +general, she and the Armours were prepared for social interchange. + +Behind Lady Haldwell’s visit curiosity chiefly ran. She was in a way +sorry for Frank Armour, for she had been fond of him after a fashion, +always fonder of him than of Lord Haldwell. She had married with her +fingers holding the scales of advantage; and Lord Haldwell dressed well, +was immensely rich, and the title had a charm. + +When Mrs. Francis Armour met her with her strange, impressive dignity, +she was the slightest bit confused, but not outwardly. She had not +expected it. At first Lali did not know who her visitor was. She had not +caught the name distinctly from the servant. + +Presently Lady Haldwell said, as Lali gave her hand “I am Lady Haldwell. +As Miss Sherwood I was an old friend of your husband.” + +A scornful glitter came into Mrs. Armour’s eyes--a peculiar touch of +burnished gold, an effect of the light at a certain angle of the lens. +It gave for the instant an uncanny look to the face, almost something +malicious. She guessed why this woman had come. She knew the whole +history of the past, and it touched her in a tender spot. She knew she +was had at an advantage. Before her was a woman perfectly trained in the +fine social life to which she was born, whose equanimity was as regular +as her features. Herself was by nature a creature of impulse, of +the woods and streams and open life. The social convention had been +engrafted. As yet she was used to thinking and speaking with all +candour. She was to have her training in the charms of superficiality, +but that was to come; and when it came she would not be an unskilful +apprentice. Perhaps the latent subtlety of her race came to help her +natural candour at the moment. For she said at once, in a slow, quiet +tone: + +“I never heard my husband speak of you. Will you sit down?” + +“And Mrs. Armour and Marion are not in? No, I suppose your husband did +not speak much of his old friends.” + +The attack was studied and cruel. But Lady Haldwell had been stung by +Mrs. Armour’s remark, and it piqued her that this was possible. + +“Well, yes, he spoke of some of his friends, but not of you.” + +“Indeed! That is strange.” + +“There was no necessity,” said Mrs. Armour quietly. + +“Of discussing me? I suppose not. But by some chance--” + +“It was just as well, perhaps, not to anticipate the pleasure of our +meeting.” + +Lady Haldwell was surprised. She had not expected this cleverness. +They talked casually for a little time, the visitor trying in vain to +delicately give the conversation a personal turn. At last, a little +foolishly, she grew bolder, with a needless selfishness. + +“So old a friend of your husband as I am, I am hopeful you and I may be +friends also.” + +Mrs. Armour saw the move. + +“You are very kind,” she said conventionally, and offered a cup of tea. + +Lady Haldwell now ventured unwisely. She was nettled at the other’s +self-possession. + +“But then, in a way, I have been your friend for a long time, Mrs. +Armour.” + +The point was veiled in a vague tone, but Mrs. Armour understood. Her +reply was not wanting. “Any one who has been a friend to my husband has, +naturally, claims upon me.” + +Lady Haldwell, in spite of herself, chafed. There was a subtlety in the +woman before her not to be reckoned with lightly. + +“And if an enemy?” she said, smiling. + +A strange smile also flickered across Mrs. Armour’s face as she said: + +“If an enemy of my husband called, and was penitent, I should--offer her +tea, no doubt.” + +“That is, in this country; but in your own country, which, I believe, +is different, what would you do?” Mrs. Armour looked steadily and coldly +into her visitor’s eyes. + +“In my country enemies do not compel us to be polite.” + +“By calling on you?” Lady Haldwell was growing a little reckless. +“But then, that is a savage country. We are different here. I suppose, +however, your husband told you of these things, so that you were not +surprised. And when does he come? His stay is protracted. Let me see, +how long is it? Ah yes, near four years.” Here she became altogether +reckless, which she regretted afterwards, for she knew, after all, what +was due herself. “He will comeback, I suppose?” + +Lady Haldwell was no coward, else she had hesitated before speaking +in that way before this woman, in whose blood was the wildness of +the heroical North. Perhaps she guessed the passion in Lali’s breast, +perhaps not. In any case she would have said what she listed at the +moment. + +Wild as were the passions in Lali’s breast, she thought on the instant +of her child, of what Richard Armour would say; for he had often talked +to her about not showing her emotions and passions, had told her that +violence of all kinds was not wise or proper. Her fingers ached to grasp +this beautiful, exasperating woman by the throat. But after an effort +at calmness she remained still and silent, looking at her visitor with +a scornful dignity. Lady Haldwell presently rose,--she could not endure +the furnace of that look,--and said good-bye. She turned towards the +door. Mrs. Armour remained immovable. At that instant, however, some one +stepped from behind a large screen just inside the door. It was Richard +Armour. He was pale, and on his face was a sternness the like of +which this and perhaps only one other woman had ever seen on him. He +interrupted her. + +“Lady Haldwell has a fine talent for irony,” he said, “but she does not +always use it wisely. In a man it would bear another name, and from a +man it would be differently received.” He came close to her. “You are a +brave woman,” he said, “or you would have been more careful. Of course +you knew that my mother and sister were not at home?” + +She smiled languidly. “And why ‘of course’?” + +“I do not know that; only I know that I think so; and I also think +that my brother Frank’s worst misfortune did not occur when Miss Julia +Sherwood trafficked without compunction in his happiness.” + +“Don’t be oracular, my dear Richard Armour,” she replied. “You are +trying, really. This seems almost melodramatic; and melodrama is bad +enough at Drury Lane.” + +“You are not a good friend even to yourself,” he answered. + +“What a discoverer you are! And how much in earnest! Do come back to the +world, Mr. Armour; you would be a relief, a new sensation.” + +“I fancy I shall come back, if only to see the ‘engineer hoist with his +own’--torpedo.” + +He paused before the last word to give it point, for her husband’s +father had made his money out of torpedoes. She felt the sting in spite +of herself, and she saw the point. + +“And then we will talk it over at the end of the season,” he added, “and +compare notes. Good-afternoon.” + +“You stake much on your hazard,” she said, glancing back at Lali, who +still stood immovable. “Au revoir!” She left the room. Richard heard the +door close after her and the servant retire. Then he turned to Lali. + +As he did so, she ran forward to him with a cry. “Oh, Richard, Richard!” + she exclaimed, with a sob, threw her arms over his shoulder, and let her +forehead drop on his breast. Then came a sudden impulse in his blood. +Long after he shuddered when he remembered what he thought at that +instant; what he wished to do; what rich madness possessed him. He knew +now why he had come to town; he also knew why he must not stay, or, if +staying, what must be his course. + +He took her gently by the arm and led her to a chair, speaking cheerily +to her. Then he sat down beside her, and all at once again, her face +wet and burning, she flung herself forward on her knees beside him, and +clung to him. + +“Oh, Richard, I am glad you have come,” she said. “I would have killed +her if I had not thought of you. I want you to stay; I am always better +when you are with me. I have missed you, and I know that baby misses you +too.” + +He had his cue. He rose, trembling a little. “Come, come,” he said +heartily, “it’s all right, it’s all right-my sister. Let us go and see +the youngster. There, dry your eyes, and forget all about that woman. +She is only envious of you. Come, for his imperial highness!” + +She was in a tumult of feeling. It was seldom that she had shown emotion +in the past two years, and it was the more ample when it did break +forth. But she dried her eyes, and together they went to the nursery. +She dismissed the nurse and they were left alone by the sleeping +child. She knelt at the head of the little cot, and touched the child’s +forehead with her lips. He stooped down also beside it. + +“He’s a grand little fellow,” he said. “Lali,” he continued presently, +“it is time Frank came home. I am going to write for him. If he does not +come at once, I shall go and fetch him.” + +“Never! never!” Her eyes flashed angrily. “Promise that you will not. +Let him come when he is ready. + +“He does not, care.” She shuddered a little. + +“But he will care when he comes, and you--you care for him, Lali?” + +Again she shuddered, and a whiteness ran under the hot excitement of her +cheeks. She said nothing, but looked up at him, then dropped her face in +her hands. + +“You do care for him, Lali,” he said earnestly, almost solemnly, his +lips twitching slightly. “You must care for him; it is his right; and he +will--I swear to you I know he will--care for you.” + +In his own mind there was another thought, a hard, strange thought; and +it had to do with the possibility of his brother not caring for this +wife. + +Still she did not speak. + +“To a good woman, with a good husband,” he continued, “there is no +one--there should be no one--like the father of her child. And no woman +ever loved her child more than you do yours.” He knew that this was +special pleading. + +She trembled, and then dropped her cheek beside the child’s. “I want +Frank to be happy,” he went on; “there is no one I care more for than +for Frank.” + +She lifted her face to him now, in it a strange light. Then her look +ran to confusion, and she seemed to read all that he meant to convey. He +knew she did. He touched her shoulder. + +“You must do the best you can every way, for Frank’s sake, for all our +sakes. I will help you--God knows I will--all I can.” + +“Ah, yes, yes,” she whispered, from the child’s pillow. + +He could see the flame in her cheek. “I understand.” She put out +her hand to him, but did not look up. “Leave me alone with my baby, +Richard,” she pleaded. + +He took her hand and pressed it again and again in his old, unconscious +way. Then he let it go, and went slowly to the door. There he turned and +looked back at her. He mastered the hot thought in him. “God help +me!” she murmured from the cot. The next morning Richard went back to +Greyhope. + + + + +CHAPTER VII. A COURT-MARTIAL + +It was hard to tell, save for a certain deliberateness of speech and a +colour a little more pronounced than that of a Spanish woman, that Mrs. +Frank Armour had not been brought up in England. She had a kind of grave +sweetness and distant charm which made her notable at any table or in +any ballroom. Indeed, it soon became apparent that she was to be the +pleasant talk, the interest of the season. This was tolerably comforting +to the Armours. Again Richard’s prophecy had been fulfilled, and as he +sat alone at Greyhope and read the Morning Post, noticing Lali’s name +at distinguished gatherings, or, picking up the World, saw how the +lion-hunters talked extravagantly of her, he took some satisfaction to +himself that he had foreseen her triumph where others looked for her +downfall. Lali herself was not elated; it gratified her, but she had +been an angel, and a very unsatisfactory one, if it had not done so. As +her confidence grew (though outwardly she had never appeared to lack +it greatly), she did not hesitate to speak of herself as an Indian, her +country as a good country, and her people as a noble if dispossessed +race; all the more so if she thought reference to her nationality and +past was being rather conspicuously avoided. She had asked General +Armour for an interview with her husband’s solicitor. This was granted. +When she met the solicitor, she asked him to send no newspaper to her +husband containing any reference to herself, nor yet to mention her in +his letters. + +She had never directly received a line from him but once, and that was +after she had come to know the truth about his marriage with her. She +could read in the conventional sentences, made simple as for a child, +the strained politeness, and his absolute silence as to whether or not a +child had been born to them, the utter absence of affection for her. +She had also induced General Armour and his wife to give her husband’s +solicitor no information regarding the birth of the child. There was +thus apparently no more inducement for him to hurry back to England than +there was when he had sent her off on his mission of retaliation, which +had been such an ignominious failure. For the humiliation of his family +had been short-lived, the affront to Lady Haldwell nothing at all. +The Armours had not been human if they had failed to enjoy their +daughter-in-law’s success. Although they never, perhaps, would quite +recover the disappointment concerning Lady Agnes Martling, the result +was so much better than they in their cheerfulest moments dared hope +for, that they appeared genuinely content. + +To their grandchild they were devotedly attached. Marion was his +faithful slave and admirer, so much so that Captain Vidall, who now and +then was permitted to see the child, declared himself jealous. He and +Marion were to be married soon. The wedding had been delayed owing to +his enforced absence abroad. Mrs. Edward Lambert, once Mrs. Townley, +shyly regretted in Lali’s presence that the child, or one as sweet, +was not hers. Her husband evidently shared her opinion, from the +extraordinary notice he took of it when his wife was not present. Not +that Richard Joseph Armour, Jun., was always en evidence, but when asked +for by his faithful friends and admirers he was amiably produced. + +Meanwhile, Frank Armour across the sea was engaged with many things. His +business concerns had not prospered prodigiously, chiefly because his +judgment, like his temper, had grown somewhat uncertain. His popularity +in the Hudson’s Bay country had been at some tension since he had +shipped his wife away to England. Even the ordinary savage mind saw +something unusual and undomestic in it, and the general hospitality +declined a little. Armour did not immediately guess the cause; but one +day, about a year after his wife had gone, he found occasion to reprove +a half-breed, by name Jacques Pontiac; and Jacques, with more honesty +than politeness, said some hard words, and asked how much he paid for +his English hired devils to kill his wife. Strange to say, he did not +resent this startling remark. It set him thinking. He began to blame +himself for not having written oftener to his people--and to his wife. +He wondered how far his revenge had succeeded. He was most ashamed of it +now. He knew that he had done a dishonourable thing. The more he thought +upon it the more angry with himself he became. Yet he dreaded to go back +to England and face it all: the reproach of his people; the amusement +of society; his wife herself. He never attempted to picture her as a +civilised being. He scarcely knew her when he married her. She knew +him much better, for primitive people are quicker in the play of their +passions, and she had come to love him before he had begun to notice her +at all. + +Presently he ate his heart out with mortification. To be yoked for ever +to--a savage! It was horrible. And their children? It was strange he had +not thought of that before. Children? He shrugged his shoulders. There +might possibly be a child, but children--never! But he doubted +even regarding a child, for no word had come to him concerning that +possibility. He was even most puzzled at the tone and substance of their +letters. From the beginning there had been no reproaches, no excitement, +no railing, but studied kindness and conventional statements, through +which Mrs. Armour’s solicitous affection scarcely ever peeped. He had +shot his bolt, and got--consideration, almost imperturbability. They +appeared to treat the matter as though he were a wild youth who would +not yet mend his ways. He read over their infrequent letters to him; his +to them had been still more infrequent. In one there was the statement +that “she was progressing favourably with her English”; in another, that +“she was riding a good deal”; again, that “she appeared anxious to adapt +herself to her new life.” + +At all these he whistled a little to himself, and smiled bitterly. Then, +all at once, he got up and straightway burned them all. He again tried +to put the matter behind him for the present, knowing that he must face +it one day, and staving off its reality as long as possible. He did his +utmost to be philosophical and say his quid refert, but it was easier +tried than done; for Jacques Pontiac’s words kept rankling in his +mind, and he found himself carrying round a vague load, which made +him abstracted occasionally, and often a little reckless in action and +speech. In hunting bear and moose he had proved himself more daring than +the oldest hunter, and proportionately successful. He paid his servants +well, but was sharp with them. + +He made long, hard expeditions, defying the weather as the hardiest of +prairie and mountain men mostly hesitate to defy it; he bought up much +land, then, dissatisfied, sold it again at a loss, but subsequently +made final arrangements for establishing a very large farm. When he +once became actually interested in this he shook off something of his +moodiness and settled himself to develop the thing. He had good talent +for initiative and administration, and at last, in the time when his +wife was a feature of the London season, he found his scheme in working +order, and the necessity of going to England was forced upon him. + +Actually he wished that the absolute necessity had presented itself +before. There was always the moral necessity, of course--but then! Here +now was a business need; and he must go. Yet he did not fix a day or +make definite arrangements. He could hardly have believed himself such a +coward. With liberal emphasis he called himself a sneak, and one day at +Fort Charles sat down to write to his solicitor in Montreal to say that +he would come on at once. Still he hesitated. As he sat there thinking, +Eye-of-the-Moon, his father-in-law, opened the door quietly and entered. +He had avoided the chief ever since he had come back to Fort Charles, +and practically had not spoken to him for a year. Armour flushed +slightly with annoyance. But presently, with a touch of his old humour, +he rose, held out his hand, and said ironically: “Well, father-in-law, +it’s about time we had a big talk, isn’t it? We’re not very intimate for +such close relatives.” + +The old Indian did not fully understand the meaning or the tone of +Armour’s speech, but he said “How!” and, reaching out his hand for the +pipe offered him, lighted it, and sat down, smoking in silence. Armour +waited; but, seeing that the other was not yet moved to talk, he turned +to his letter again. After a time, Eye-of-the-Moon said gravely, getting +to his feet: “Brother!” + +Armour looked up, then rose also. The Indian bowed to him courteously, +then sat down again. Armour threw a leg over a corner of the table and +waited. + +“Brother,” said the Indian presently, “you are of the great race that +conquers us. You come and take our land and our game, and we at last +have to beg of you for food and shelter. Then you take our daughters, +and we know not where they go. They are gone like the down from the +thistle. We see them not, but you remain. And men say evil things. There +are bad words abroad. Brother, what have you done with my daughter?” + +Had the Indian come and stormed, begged money of him, sponged on him, +or abused him, he had taken it very calmly--he would, in fact, have +been superior. But there was dignity in the chief’s manner; there +was solemnity in his speech; his voice conveyed resoluteness and +earnestness, which the stoic calm of his face might not have suggested; +and Armour felt that he had no advantage at all. Besides, Armour had a +conscience, though he had played some rare tricks with it of late, and +it needed more hardihood than he possessed to face this old man down. +And why face him down? Lali was his daughter, blood of his blood, the +chieftainess of one branch of his people, honoured at least among these +poor savages, and the old man had a right to ask, as asked another more +famous, “Where is my daughter?” + +His hands in his pockets, Armour sat silent for a minute, eyeing +his boot, as he swung his leg to and fro. Presently he said: +“Eye-of-the-Moon, I don’t think I can talk as poetically as you, even in +my own language, and I shall not try. But I should like to ask you this: +Do you believe any harm has come to your daughter--to my wife?” + +The old Indian forgot to blow the tobacco-smoke from his mouth, and, +as he sat debating, lips slightly apart, it came leaking out in little +trailing clouds and gave a strange appearance to his iron-featured face. +He looked steadily at Armour, and said: “You are of those who rule in +your land,”--here Armour protested,--“you have much gold to buy and +sell. I am a chief,” he drew himself up,--“I am poor: we speak with the +straight tongue; it is cowards who lie. Speak deep as from the heart, my +brother, and tell me where my daughter is.” + +Armour could not but respect the chief for the way this request was put, +but still it galled him to think that he was under suspicion of having +done any bodily injury to his wife, so he quietly persisted: “Do you +think I have done Lali any harm?” + +“The thing is strange,” replied the other. “You are of those who are +great among your people. You married a daughter of a red man. Then she +was yours for less than one moon, and you sent her far away, and you +stayed. Her father was as a dog in your sight. Do men whose hearts are +clear act so? They have said strange things of you. I have not believed; +but it is good I know all, that I may say to the tale-bearers, ‘You have +crooked tongues.’” + +Armour sat for a moment longer, his face turned to the open window. He +was perfectly still, but he had become grave. He was about to reply to +the chief, when the trader entered the room hurriedly with a newspaper +in his hand. He paused abruptly when he saw Eye-of-the-Moon. Armour felt +that the trader had something important to communicate. He guessed it +was in the paper. He mutely held out his hand for it. The trader handed +it to him hesitatingly, at the same time pointing to a paragraph, and +saying: “It is nearly two years old, as you see. I chanced upon it by +accident to-day.” + +It was a copy of a London evening paper, containing a somewhat +sensational account of Lali’s accident. It said that she was in a +critical condition. This time Armour did not ask for brandy, but the +trader put it out beside him. He shook his head. “Gordon,” he said +presently, “I shall leave here in the morning. Please send my men to +me.” + +The trader whispered to him: “She was all right, of course, long ago, +Mr. Armour, or you would have heard.” + +Armour looked at the date of the paper. He had several letters from +England of a later date, and these said nothing of her illness. It +bewildered him, made him uneasy. Perhaps the first real sense of his +duty as a husband came home to him there. For the first time he was +anxious about the woman for her own sake. The trader had left the room. + +“What a scoundrel I’ve been!” said Armour between his teeth, oblivious, +for the moment, of Eye-of-the-Moon’s presence. Presently, bethinking +himself, he turned to the Indian. “I’ve been debating,” he said. +“Eye-of-the-Moon, my wife is in England, at my father’s home. I am +going to her. Men have lied in thinking I would do her any injury, +but--but--never mind, the harm was of another kind. It isn’t wise for a +white man and an Indian to marry, but when they are married--well, they +must live as man and wife should live, and, as I said, I am going to my +wife.” + +To say all this to a common Indian, whose only property was a dozen +ponies and a couple of tepees, required something very like moral +courage; but then Armour had not been exercising moral courage during +the last year or so, and its exercise was profitable to him. The next +morning he was on his way to Montreal, and Eye-of-the-Moon was the +richest chief in British North America, at that moment, by five thousand +dollars or so. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. TO EVERY MAN HIS HOUR + +It was the close of the season: many people had left town, but +festivities were still on. To a stranger the season might have seemed +at its height. The Armours were giving a large party in Cavendish Square +before going back again to Greyhope, where, for the sake of Lali and +her child, they intended to remain during the rest of the summer, +in preference to going on the Continent or to Scotland. The only +unsatisfactory feature of Lali’s season was the absence of her husband. +Naturally there were those who said strange things regarding Frank +Armour’s stay in America; but it was pretty generally known that he was +engaged in land speculations, and his club friends, who perhaps took the +pleasantest view of the matter, said that he was very wise indeed, if a +little cowardly, in staying abroad until his wife was educated and ready +to take her position in society. There was one thing on which they were +all agreed: Mrs. Frank Armour either had a mind superior to the charms +of their sex, or was incapable of that vanity which hath many suitors, +and says: “So far shalt thou go, and--” The fact is, Mrs. Frank Armour’s +mind was superior. She had only one object--to triumph over her husband +grandly, as a woman righteously might. She had vanity, of course, but it +was not ignoble. She kept one thing in view; she lived for it. + +Her translation had been successful. There were times when she +remembered her father, the wild days on the prairies, the buffalo-hunt, +tracking the deer, tribal battles, the long silent hours of the winter, +and the warm summer nights when she slept in the prairie grass or camped +with her people in the trough of a great landwave. Sometimes the hunger +for its freedom, and its idleness, and its sport, came to her greatly; +but she thought of her child, and she put it from her. She was ambitious +for him; she was keen to prove her worth as a wife against her husband’s +unworthiness. This perhaps saved her. She might have lost had her life +been without this motive. + +The very morning of this notable reception, General Armour had received +a note from Frank Armour’s solicitor, saying that his son was likely to +arrive in London from America that day or the next. Frank had written to +his people no word of his coming; to his wife, as we have said, he had +not written for months; and before he started back he would not write, +because he wished to make what amends he could in person. He expected to +find her improved, of course, but still he could only think of her as an +Indian, showing her common prairie origin. His knowledge of her before +their marriage had been particularly brief; she was little more in +his eyes than a thousand other Indian women, save that she was +better-looking, was whiter than most, and had finer features. He +could not very clearly remember the tones of her voice, because after +marriage, and before he had sent her to England, he had seen little or +nothing of her. + +When General Armour received the news of Frank’s return he told his wife +and Marion, and they consulted together whether it were good to let Lali +know at once. He might arrive that evening. If so, the position would be +awkward, because it was impossible to tell how it might affect her. If +they did tell her, and Frank happened not to arrive, it might unnerve +her so as to make her appearance in the evening doubtful. Richard, the +wiseacre, the inexhaustible Richard, was caring for his cottagers and +cutting the leaves of new books--his chiefest pleasure--at Greyhope. +They felt it was a matter they ought to be able to decide for +themselves, but still it was the last evening of Lali’s stay in town, +and they did not care to take any risk. Strange to say, they had come +to take pride in their son’s wife; for even General and Mrs. Armour, +high-minded and of serene social status as they were, seemed not quite +insensible to the pleasure of being an axle on which a system of social +notoriety revolved. + +At the opportune moment Captain Vidall was announced, and, because he +and Marion were soon to carry but one name between them, he was called +into family consultation. It is somewhat singular that in this case the +women were quite wrong and the men were quite right. For General Armour +and Captain Vidall were for silence until Frank came, if he came that +day, or for telling her the following morning, when the function was +over. And the men prevailed. + +Marion was much excited all day; she had given orders that Frank’s room +should be made ready, but for whom she gave no information. While Lali +was dressing for the evening, something excited and nervous, she entered +her room. They were now the best of friends. The years had seen many +shifting scenes in their companionship; they had been as often at war as +at peace; but they had respected each other, each after her own fashion; +and now they had a real and mutual regard. Lali’s was a slim, lithe +figure, wearing its fashionable robes with an air of possession; and +the face above it, if not entirely beautiful, had a strange, warm +fascination. The girl had not been a chieftainess for nothing. A look +of quiet command was there, but also a far-away expression which gave +a faint look of sadness even when a smile was at the lips. The smile +itself did not come quickly, it grew; but above it all was hair of +perfect brown, most rare,--setting off her face as a plume does a +helmet. She showed no surprise when Marion entered. She welcomed her +with a smile and outstretched hand, but said nothing. + +“Lali,” said Marion somewhat abruptly,--she scarcely knew why she said +it,--“are you happy?” + +It was strange how the Indian girl had taken on those little manners of +society which convey so much by inflection. She lifted her eyebrows at +Marion, and said presently, in a soft, deliberate voice, “Come, Marion, +we will go and see little Richard; then I shall be happy.” + +She linked her arm through Marion’s. Marion drummed her fingers lightly +on the beautiful arm, and then fell to wondering what she should say +next. They passed into the room where the child lay sleeping; they went +to his little bed, and Lali stretched out her hand gently, touching the +curls of the child. Running a finger through one delicately, she said, +with a still softer tone than before: “Why should not one be happy?” + +Marion looked up slowly into her eyes, let a hand fall on her shoulder +gently, and replied: “Lali, do you never wish Frank to come?” + +Lali’s fingers came from the child, the colour mounted slowly to her +forehead, and she drew the girl away again into the other room. Then she +turned and faced Marion, a deep fire in her eyes, and said, in a whisper +almost hoarse in its intensity: “Yes; I wish he would come to-night.” + +She looked harder yet at Marion; then, with a flash of pride and her +hands clasping before her, she drew herself up, and added: “Am I not +worthy to be his wife now? Am I not beautiful--for a savage?” + +There was no common vanity in the action. It had a noble kind of +wistfulness, and a serenity that entirely redeemed it. Marion dated +her own happiness from the time when Lali met her accident, for in +the evening of that disastrous day she issued to Captain Hume Vidall a +commission which he could never--wished never--to resign. Since then she +had been at her best,--we are all more or less selfish creatures,--and +had grown gentler, curbing the delicate imperiousness of her nature, +and frankly, and without the least pique, taken a secondary position of +interest in the household, occasioned by Lali’s popularity. She looked +Lali up and down with a glance in which many feelings met, and then, +catching her hands warmly, she lifted them, put them on her own +shoulders, and said: “My dear beautiful savage, you are fit and worthy +to be Queen of England; and Frank, when he comes--” + +“Hush!” said the other dreamily, and put a finger on Marion’s lips. “I +know what you are going to say, but I do not wish to hear it. He did +not love me then. He used me--” She shuddered, put her hands to her eyes +with a pained, trembling motion, then threw her head back with a quick +sigh. “But I will not speak of it. Come, we are for the dance, Marion. +It is the last, to-night. To-morrow--” She paused, looking straight +before her, lost in thought. + +“Yes, to-morrow, Lali?” + +“I do not know about to-morrow,” was the reply. “Strange things come to +me.” + +Marion longed to tell her then and there the great news, but she was +afraid to do so, and was, moreover, withheld by the remembrance that it +had been agreed she should not be told. She said nothing. + +At eleven o’clock the rooms were filled. For the fag end of the season, +people seemed unusually brilliant. The evening itself was not so hot as +common, and there was an extra array of distinguished guests. Marion +was nervous all the evening, though she showed little of it, being most +prettily employed in making people pleased with themselves. Mrs. Armour +also was not free from apprehension. In reply to inquiries concerning +her son she said, as she had often said during the season, that he might +be back at any time now. Lali had answered always in the same fashion, +and had shown no sign that his continued absence was singular. As the +evening wore on, the probability of Frank’s appearance seemed less; and +the Armours began to breathe more freely. + +Frank had, however, arrived. He had driven straight from Euston to +Cavendish Square, but, seeing the house lighted up, and guests arriving, +he had a sudden feeling of uncertainty. He ordered the cabman to take +him to his club. There he put himself in evening-dress, and drove back +again to the house. He entered quietly. At the moment the hall was +almost deserted; people were mostly in the ballroom and supper-room. +He paused a moment, biting his moustache as if in perplexity. A strange +timidity came on him. All his old dash and self-possession seemed to +have forsaken him. Presently, seeing a number of people entering the +hall, he made for the staircase, and went hastily up. Mechanically he +went to his own room, and found it lighted. Flowers were set about, and +everything was made ready as for a guest. He sat down, not thinking, but +dazed. + +Glancing up, he saw his face in a mirror. It was bronzed, but it looked +rather old and careworn. He shrugged a shoulder at that. Then, in the +mirror, he saw also something else. It startled him so that he sat +perfectly still for a moment looking at it. It was some one laughing at +him over his shoulder--a child! He got to his feet and turned round. On +the table was a very large photograph of a smiling child--with his eyes, +his face. He caught the chair-arm, and stood looking at it a little +wildly. Then he laughed a strange laugh, and the tears leaped to +his eyes. He caught the picture in his hands, and kissed it,--very +foolishly, men not fathers might think,--and read the name beneath, +Richard Joseph Armour; and again, beneath that, the date of birth. +He then put it back on the table and sat looking at it-looking, and +forgetting, and remembering. + +Presently, the door opened, and some one entered. It was Marion. She had +seen him pass through the hall; she had then gone and told her father +and mother, to prepare them, and had followed him upstairs. He did not +hear her. She stepped softly forwards. “Frank!” she said--“Frank!” and +laid a hand on his shoulder. He started up and turned his face on her. + +Then he caught her hands and kissed her. “Marion!” he said, and he could +say no more. But presently he pointed towards the photograph. + +She nodded her head. “Yes, it is your child, Frank. Though, of course, +you don’t deserve it.... Frank dear,” she added, “I am glad--we shall +all be glad-to have you back; but you are a wicked man.” She felt she +must say that. + +Now he only nodded, and still looked at the portrait. “Where is--my +wife?” he added presently. + +“She is in the ballroom.” Marion was wondering what was best to do. + +He caught his thumb-nail in his teeth. He winced in spite of himself. “I +will go to her,” he said, “and then--the baby.” + +“I am glad,” she replied, “that you have so much sense of justice left, +Frank: the wife first, the baby afterwards. But do you think you deserve +either?” + +He became moody, and made an impatient gesture. “Lady Agnes Martling is +here, and also Lady Haldwell,” she persisted cruelly. She did not mind, +because she knew he would have enough to compensate him afterwards. + +“Marion,” he said, “say it all, and let me have it over. Say what you +like, and I’ll not whimper. I’ll face it. But I want to see my child.” + +She was sorry for him. She had really wanted to see how much he was +capable of feeling in the matter. + +“Wait here, Frank,” she said. “That will be best; and I will bring your +wife to you.” + +He said nothing, but assented with a motion of the hand, and she left +him where he was. He braced himself for the interview. Assuredly a man +loses something of natural courage and self-confidence when he has done +a thing of which he should be, and is, ashamed. + +It seemed a long time (it was in reality but a couple of minutes) before +the door opened again, and Marion said: “Frank, your wife!” and then +retreated. + +The door closed, leaving a stately figure standing just inside it. The +figure did not move forwards, but stood there, full of life and fine +excitement, but very still also. + +Frank Armour was confounded. He came forwards slowly, looking hard. +Was this distinguished, handsome, reproachful woman his wife--Lali, the +Indian girl, whom he had married in a fit of pique and brandy? He could +hardly believe his eyes; and yet hers looked out at him with something +that he remembered too, together with something which he did not +remember, making him uneasy. Clearly, his great mistake had turned from +ashes into fruit. “Lali!” he said, and held out his hand. + +She reached out hers courteously, but her fingers gave him no response. + +“We have many things to say to each other,” she said, “but they cannot +be said now. I shall be missed from the ballroom.” + +“Missed from the ballroom!” He almost laughed to think how strange this +sounded in his ears. As if interpreting his thought, she added: “You +see, it is our last affair of the season, and we are all anxious to do +our duty perfectly. Will you go down with me? We can talk afterwards.” + +Her continued self-possession utterly confused him. She had utterly +confused Marion also, when told that her husband was in the house. She +had had presentiments, and, besides, she had been schooling herself for +this hour for a long time. She turned towards the door. + +“But,” he asked, like a supplicant, “our child! I want to see the boy.” + +She lifted her eyebrows, then, seeing the photograph of the baby on the +table, understood how he knew. “Come with me, then,” she said, with a +little more feeling. + +She led the way along the landing, and paused at her door. “Remember +that we have to appear amongst the guests directly,” she said, as though +to warn him against any demonstration. Then they entered. She went over +to the cot and drew back the fleecy curtain from over the sleeping +boy’s head. His fingers hungered to take his child to his arms. “He is +magnificent--magnificent!” he said, with a great pride. “Why did you +never let me know of it?” + +“How could I tell what you would do?” she calmly replied. “You married +me--wickedly, and used me wickedly afterwards; and I loved the child.” + +“You loved the child,” he repeated after her. “Lali,” he added, “I don’t +deserve it, but forgive me, if you can--for the child’s sake.” + +“We had better go below,” she calmly replied. “We have both duties to +do. You will of course--appear with me--before them?” + +The slight irony in the tone cut him horribly. He offered his arm in +silence. They passed on to the staircase. + +“It is necessary,” she said, “to appear cheerful before one’s guests.” + +She had him at an advantage at every point. “We will be cheerful, then,” + was his reply, spoken with a grim kind of humour. “You have learned it +all, haven’t you?” he added. + +They were just entering the ballroom. “Yes, with your kind help--and +absence,” she replied. + +The surprise of the guests was somewhat diminished by the fact that +Marion, telling General Armour and his wife first of Frank’s return, +industriously sent the news buzzing about the room. + +The two went straight to Frank’s father and mother. Their parts were +all excellently played. Then Frank mingled among the guests, being +very heartily greeted, and heard congratulations on all sides. Old club +friends rallied him as a deserter, and new acquaintances flocked about +him; and presently he awakened to the fact that his Indian wife had been +an interest of the season, was not the least admired person present. +It was altogether too good luck for him; but he had an uncomfortable +conviction that he had a long path of penance to walk before he could +hope to enjoy it. + +All at once he met Lady Haldwell, who, in spite of all, still accepted +invitations to General Armour’s house--the strange scene between Lali +and herself never having been disclosed to the family. He had nothing +but bitterness in his heart for her, but he spoke a few smooth words, +and she languidly congratulated him on his bronzed appearance. He asked +for a dance, but she had not one to give him. As she was leaving, she +suddenly turned as though she had forgotten something, and looking at +him, said: “I forgot to congratulate you on your marriage. I hope it is +not too late?” + +He bowed. “Your congratulations are so sincere,” he said, “that they +would be a propos late or early.” When he stood with his wife whilst +the guests were leaving, and saw with what manner she carried it all +off,--as though she had been born in the good land of good breeding,--he +was moved alternately with wonder and shame--shame that he had intended +this noble creature as a sacrifice to his ugly temper and spite. + +When all the guests were gone and the family stood alone in the +drawing-room, a silence suddenly fell amongst them. Presently Marion +said to her mother in a half-whisper, “I wish Richard were here.” + +They all felt the extreme awkwardness of the situation, especially when +Lali bade General Armour, Mrs. Armour, and Marion good-night, and then, +turning to her husband, said, “Good-night”--she did not even speak his +name. “Perhaps you would care to ride to-morrow morning? I always go to +the Park at ten, and this will be my last ride of the season.” + +Had she written out an elaborate proclamation of her intended attitude +towards her husband, it could not have more clearly conveyed her mind +than this little speech, delivered as to a most friendly acquaintance. +General Armour pulled his moustache fiercely, and, it is possible, +enjoyed the situation, despite its peril. Mrs. Armour turned to the +mantel and seemed tremulously engaged in arranging some bric-a-brac. +Marion, however, with a fine instinct, slid her arm through that of +Lali, and gently said: “Yes, of course Frank will be glad of a ride +in the Park. He used to ride with me every morning. But let us go, us +three, and kiss the baby good-night--‘good-night till we meet in the +morning.’” + +She linked her arm now through Frank’s, and as she did so he replied to +Lali: “I shall be glad to ride in the morning, but--” + +“But we can arrange it at breakfast,” said his wife hurriedly. At the +same time she allowed herself to be drawn away to the hall with her +husband. + +He was very angry, but he knew he had no right to be so. He choked back +his wrath and moved on amiably enough, and suddenly the fashion in which +the tables had been turned on him struck him with its tragic comedy, and +he involuntarily smiled. His sense of humour saved him from words and +acts which might possibly have made the matter a pure tragedy after all. +He loosed his arm from Marion’s. + +“I must bid father and mother good-night. Then I will join you both--‘in +the court of the king.’” And he turned and went back, and said to his +father as he kissed his mother: “I am had at an advantage, General.” + +“And serves you right, my boy. You had the odds with you, but she has +captured them like a born soldier.” His mother said to him gently: +“Frank, you blamed us, but remember that we wished only your good. Take +my advice, dear, and try to love your wife and win her confidence.” + +“Love her--try to love her!” he said. “I shall easily do that. But the +other--?” He shook his head a little, though what he meant perhaps he +did not know quite himself, and then followed Marion and Lali upstairs. +Marion had tried to escape from Lali, but was told that she must stay; +and the three met at the child’s cot. Marion stooped down and kissed its +forehead. Frank stooped also and kissed its cheek. Then the wife kissed +the other cheek. The child slept peacefully on. “You can always see the +baby here before breakfast, if you choose,” said Lali; and she held out +her hand again in good-night. At this point Marion stole away, in spite +of Lah’s quick little cry of “Wait, Marion!” and the two were left alone +again. + +“I am very tired,” she said. “I would rather not talk to-night.” The +dismissal was evident. + +He took her hand, held it an instant, and presently said: “I will not +detain you, but I would ask you, Lali, to remember that you are my wife. +Nothing can alter that.” + +“Still we are only strangers, as you know,” she quietly rejoined. + +“You forget the days we were together--after we were married,” he +cautiously urged. + +“I am not the same girl,... you killed her... We have to start again.... +I know all.” + +“You know that in my wretched anger and madness I--” + +“Oh, please do not speak of it,” she said; “it is so bad even in +thought.” + +“But will you never forgive me, and care for me? We have to live our +lives together.” + +“Pray let us not speak of it now,” she said, in a weary voice; then, +breathlessly: “It is of much more consequence that you should love +me--and the child.” + +He drew himself up with a choking sigh, and spread out his arms to her. +“Oh, my wife!” he exclaimed. + +“No, no,” she cried, “this is unreasonable; we know so little of each +other.... Good-night, again.” + +He turned at the door, came back, and, stooping, kissed the child on the +lips. Then he said: “You are right. I deserve to suffer.... Good-night.” + +But when he was gone she dropped on her knees, and kissed the child many +times on the lips also. + + + + +CHAPTER IX. THE FAITH OF COMRADES + +When Francis Armour left his wife’s room he did not go to his own, but +quietly descended the stairs, went to the library, and sat down. The +loneliest thing in the world is to be tete-a-tete with one’s conscience. +A man may have a bad hour with an enemy, a sad hour with a friend, +a peaceful hour with himself, but when the little dwarf, conscience, +perches upon every hillock of remembrance and makes slow signs--those +strange symbols of the language of the soul--to him, no slave upon the +tread-mill suffers more. + +The butler came in to see if anything was required, but Armour only +greeted him silently and waved him away. His brain was painfully alert, +his memory singularly awake. It seemed that the incident of this hour +had so opened up every channel of his intelligence that all his life ran +past him in fantastic panorama, as by that illumination which comes to +the drowning man. He seemed under some strange spell. Once or twice he +rose, rubbed his eyes, and looked round the room--the room where as a +boy he had spent idle hours, where as a student he had been in the hands +of his tutor, and as a young man had found recreations such as belong +to ambitious and ardent youth. Every corner was familiar. Nothing was +changed. The books upon the shelves were as they were placed twenty +years ago. And yet he did not seem a part of it. It did not seem natural +to him. He was in an atmosphere of strangeness--that atmosphere which +surrounds a man, as by a cloud, when some crisis comes upon him and +his life seems to stand still, whirling upon its narrow base, while the +world appears at an interminable distance, even as to a deaf man who +sees yet cannot hear. + +There came home to him at that moment with a force indescribable the +shamelessness of the act he committed four years ago. He had thought to +come back to miserable humiliation. For four years he had refused to do +his duty as a man towards an innocent woman,--a woman, though in part +a savage,--now transformed into a gentle, noble creature of delight and +goodness. How had he deserved it? He had sown the storm, it was but just +that he should reap the whirlwind; he had scattered thistles, could he +expect to gather grapes? He knew that the sympathy of all his father’s +house was not with him, but with the woman he had wronged. He was glad +it was so. Looking back now, it seemed so poor and paltry a thing that +he, a man, should stoop to revenge himself upon those who had given him +birth, as a kind of insult to the woman who had lightly set him aside, +and should use for that purpose a helpless, confiding girl. To revenge +one’s self for wrong to one’s self is but a common passion, which +has little dignity; to avenge some one whom one has loved, man or +woman,--and, before all, woman,--has some touch of nobility, is redeemed +by loyalty. For his act there was not one word of defence to be made, +and he was not prepared to make it. + +The cigars and liquors were beside him, but he did not touch them. He +seemed very far away from the ordinary details of his life: he knew +he had before him hard travel, and he was not confident of the end. He +could not tell how long he sat there.--After, a time the ticking of +the clock seemed painfully loud to him. Now and again he heard a cab +rattling through the Square, and the foolish song of some drunken +loiterer in the night caused him to start painfully. Everything jarred +on him. Once he got up, went to the window, and looked out. The moon was +shining full on the Square. He wondered if it would be well for him to +go out and find some quiet to his nerves in walking. He did so. Out in +the Square he looked up to his wife’s window. It was lighted. Long time +he walked up and down, his eyes on the window. It held him like a charm. +Once he leaned against the iron railings of the garden and looked +up, not moving for a time. Presently he saw the curtain of the window +raised, and against the dim light of the room was outlined the figure of +his wife. He knew it. She stood for a moment looking out into the night. +She could not see him, nor could he see her features at all plainly, +but he knew that she, like him, was alone with the catastrophe which his +wickedness had sent upon her. Soon the curtain was drawn down again, +and then he went once more to the house and took his old seat beside +the table. He fell to brooding, and at last, exhausted, dropped to a +troubled sleep. He woke with a start. Some one was in the room. He heard +a step behind him. He came to his feet quickly, a wild light in his +eyes. He faced his brother Richard. + +Late in the afternoon Marion had telegraphed to Richard that Frank was +coming. He had been away visiting some poor and sick people, and when he +came back to Greyhope it was too late to catch the train. But the horses +were harnessed straightway, and he was driven into town, a three-hours’ +drive. He had left the horses at the stables, and, having a latch-key, +had come in quietly. He had seen the light in the study, and guessed who +was there. He entered, and saw his brother asleep. He watched him for a +moment and studied him. Then he moved away to take off his hat, and, as +he did so, stumbled slightly. Then it was Frank waked, and for the first +time in five years they looked each other in the eyes. They both stood +immovable for a moment, and then Richard caught Frank’s hand in both of +his and said: “God bless you, my boy! I am glad you are back.” + +“Dick! Dick!” was the reply, and Frank’s other hand clutched Richard’s +shoulder in his strong emotion. They stood silent for a moment longer, +and then Richard recovered himself. He waved his hand to the chairs. The +strain of the situation was a little painful for them both. Men are shy +with each other where their emotions are in play. + +“Why, my boy,” he said, waving a hand to the spirits and liqueurs, “full +bottles and unopened boxes? Tut, tut! here’s a pretty how-d’ye-do. Is +this the way you toast the home quarters? You’re a fine soldier for an +old mess!” + +So saying, he poured out some whiskey, then opened the box of cigars and +pushed them towards his brother. He did not care particularly to drink +or smoke himself, but a man--an Englishman--is a strange creature. He is +most natural and at ease when he is engaged in eating and drinking. +He relieves every trying situation by some frivolous and selfish +occupation, as of dismembering a partridge, or mixing a punch. + +“Well, Frank,” said his brother, “now what have you to say for yourself? +Why didn’t you come long ago? You have played the adventurer for five +years, and what have you to show for it? Have you a fortune?” Frank +shook his head, and twisted a shoulder. “What have you done that is +worth the doing, then?” + +“Nothing that I intended to do, Dick,” was the grave reply. + +“Yes, I imagined that. You have seen them, have you?” he added, in a +softer voice. + +Frank blew a great cloud of smoke about his face, and through it he +said: “Yes, I have seen a damned sight more than I deserved to see.” + +“Oh, of course; I know that, my boy; but, so far as I can see, in +another direction you are getting quite what you deserve: your wife and +child are upstairs--you are here.” + +He paused, was silent for a moment, then leaned over, caught his +brother’s arm, and said, in a low, strenuous voice: “Frank Armour, you +laid a hateful little plot for us. It wasn’t manly, but we forgave it +and did the best we could. But see here, Frank, take my word for it, you +have had a lot of luck. There isn’t one woman out of ten thousand that +would have stood the test as your wife has stood it; injured at the +start, constant neglect, temptation--” he paused. “My boy, did you ever +think of that, of the temptation to a woman neglected by her husband? +The temptation to men? Yes, you have had a lot of luck. There has been +a special providence for you, my boy; but not for your sake. God doesn’t +love neglectful husbands, but I think He is pretty sorry for neglected +wives.” + +Frank was very still. His head drooped, the cigar hung unheeded in his +fingers for a moment, and he said at last: “Dick, old boy, I’ve thought +it all over to-night since I came back--everything that you’ve said. I +have not a word of defence to make, but, by heaven! I’m going to win my +wife’s love if I can, and when I do it I’ll make up for all my cursed +foolishness--see if I don’t.” + +“That sounds well, Frank,” was the quiet reply. “I like to hear you talk +that way. You would be very foolish if you did not. What do you think of +the child?” + +“Can you ask me what I think? He is a splendid little fellow.” + +“Take care of him, then--take good care of him: you may never have +another,” was the grim rejoinder. Frank winced. His brother rose, took +his arm, and said: “Let us go to our rooms, Frank. There will be time +enough to talk later, and I am not so young as I once was.” + +Truth to say, Richard Armour was not so young as he seemed a few months +before. His shoulders were a little stooped, he was greyer about the +temples. The little bit of cynicism which had appeared in that remark +about the care of the child showed also in the lines of his mouth; yet +his eyes had the same old true, honest look. But a man cannot be hit in +mortal places once or twice in his life without its being etched on his +face or dropped like a pinch of aloe from his tongue. + +Still they sat and talked much longer, Frank showing better than when +his brother came, Richard gone grey and tired. At last Richard rose and +motioned towards the window. “See, Frank,” he said, “it is morning.” + Then he went and lifted the blind. The grey, unpurged air oozed on +the glass. The light was breaking over the tops of the houses. A +crossing-sweeper early to his task, or holding the key of the street, +went pottering by, and a policeman glanced up at them as he passed. +Richard drew down the curtain again. + +“Dick,” said Frank suddenly, “you look old. I wonder if I have changed +as much?” + +Six months before, Frank Armour would have said hat his brother looked +young. + +“Oh, you look young enough, Frank,” was the reply. “But I am a good deal +older than I was five years ago... Come, let us go to bed.” + + + + +CHAPTER X. THOU KNOWEST THE SECRETS OF OUR HEARTS + +And Lali? How had the night gone for her? When she rose from the child’s +cot, where her lips had caught the warmth that her husband had left on +them, she stood for a moment bewildered in the middle of the room. She +looked at the door out of which he had gone, her bosom beating hard, her +heart throbbing so that it hurt her--that she could have cried out from +mere physical pain. The wifedom in her was plundering the wild stores of +her generous soul for the man, for--as Richard had said that day, +that memorable day!--the father of her child. But the woman, the pure +translated woman, who was born anew when this frail life in its pink and +white glory crept out into the dazzling world, shrank back, as any girl +might shrink that had not known marriage. This child had come--from +what?--She shuddered now--how many times had she done so since she first +waked to the vulgar sacrilege of her marriage? She knew now that every +good mother, when her first child is born, takes it in her arms, and, +all her agony gone, and the ineffable peace of delivered motherhood +come, speaks the name of its father, and calls it his child. But--she +remembered it now--when her child was born, this little waif, the fruit +of a man’s hot, malicious hour, she wrapped it in her arms, pressed its +delicate flesh to the silken folds of her bosom, and weeping, whispered +only: “My child, my little, little child!” + +She had never, as many a wife far from her husband has done, talked to +her child of its father, told it of his beauty and his virtues, arrayed +it day by day in sweet linen and pretty adornments, as if he were just +then knocking at her door; she had never imagined what he would say +when he did come. What could such a father think of his child, born of a +woman whose very life he had intended as an insult? No, she had loved +it for father and mother also. She had tried to be good, a good mother, +living a life unutterably lonely, hard in all that it involved of study, +new duty, translation, and burial of primitive emotions. And with all +the care and tearful watchfulness that had been needed, she had grown so +proud, so exacting--exacting for her child, proud for herself. + +How could she know now that this hasty declaration of affection was +anything more than the mere man in him? Years ago she had not been able +to judge between love and insult--what guarantee had she here? Did +he think that she could believe in him? She was not the woman he +had married, he was not the man she had married. He had deceived +her basely--she had been a common chattel. She had been miserable +enough--could she give herself over to his flying emotions again so +suddenly? + +She paced the room, her face now in her hands, her hands now clasping +and wringing before her. Her wifely duty? She straightened to that. +Duty! She was first and before all a good, unpolluted woman. No, no, it +could not be. Love him? Again she shrank. Then came flooding on her that +afternoon when she had flung herself on Richard’s breast, and all those +hundred days of happiness in Richard’s company--Richard the considerate, +the strong, who had stood so by his honour in an hour of peril. + +Now as she thought of it a hot wave shivered through all her body, and +tingled to her hair. Her face again dropped in her hands, and, as on +that other day, she knelt beside the cot, and, bursting into tears, +said through her sobs: “My baby, my own dear baby! Oh, that we could go +away--away--and never come back again!” + +She did not know how intense her sobs were. They waked the child from +its delicate sleep; its blue eyes opened wide and wise all on the +instant, its round soft arm ran up to its mother’s neck, and it said: +“Don’t c’y! I want to s’eep wif you! I’se so s’eepy!” + +She caught the child to her wet face, smiled at it through her tears, +went with it to her own bed, put it away in the deep whiteness, kissed +it, and fondled it away again into the heaven of sleep. When this was +done she felt calmer. How she hungered over it! This--this could not be +denied her. This, at least, was all hers, without clause or reservation, +an absolute love, and an absolute right. + +She disrobed and drew in beside the child, and its little dewy cheek +touching her breast seemed to ease the ache in her soul. + +But sleep would not come. All the past four years trooped by, with their +thousand incidents magnified in the sharp, throbbing light of her mind, +and at last she knew and saw clearly what was before her, what trials, +what duty, and what honour demanded--her honour. + +Richard? Once for all she gently put him away from her into that +infinite distance of fine respect which a good woman can feel, who has +known what she and Richard had known--and set aside. But he had made for +her so high a standard, that for one to be measured thereby was a severe +challenge. + +Could Frank come even to that measure? She dared not try to answer the +question. She feared, she shrank, she grew sick at heart. She did not +reckon with that other thing, that powerful, infinite influence which +ties a woman, she knows not how or why, to the man who led her to the +world of motherhood. Through all the wrongs which she may suffer by him, +there runs this cable of unhappy attraction, testified to by how many +sorrowful lives! + +But Lali was trying to think it out, not only to feel, and she did +not count that subterranean force which must play its part in this new +situation in her drama of life. Could she love him? She crept away out +of the haven where her child was, put on her dressing-gown, went to the +window, and looked out upon the night, all unconscious that her husband +was looking at her from the Square below. Love him?--Love him?--Love +him? Could she? Did he love her? Her eyes wandered over the Square. +Nowhere else was there a light, but a chimney-flue was creaking +somewhere. It jarred on her so that she shrank. Then all at once she +smiled to think how she had changed. Four years ago she could have slept +amid the hammers of a foundry. The noise ceased. Her eyes passed from +the cloud of trees in the Square to the sky-all stars, and restful deep +blue. That--that was the same. How she knew it! Orion and Ashtaroth, and +Mars and the Pleiades, and the long trail of the Milky Way. As a little +child hanging in the trees, or sprawled beside a tepee, she had made +friends with them all, even as she learned and loved all the signs of +the earth beneath--the twist of a blade of grass, the portent in the cry +of a river-hen, the colour of a star, the smell of a wind. She had known +Nature then, now she knew men. And knowing them, and having suffered, +and sick at heart as she was, standing by this window in the dead of +night, the cry that shook her softly was not of her new life, but of the +old, primitive, child-like. + +‘Pasagathe, omarki kethose kolokani vorgantha pestorondikat Oni.’ + +“A spear hath pierced me, and the smart of the nettle is in my wound. +Maker of the soft night, bind my wounds with sleep, lest I cry out and +be a coward and unworthy.” + +Again and again, unconsciously, the words passed from her lips + +‘Vorganthe, pestorondikat Oni.’ + +At last she let down the blind, came to the bed, and once more gathered +her child in her arms with an infinite hunger. This love was hers--rich, +untrammelled, and so sacred. No matter what came, and she did not know +what would come, she had the child. There was a kind of ecstasy in +it, and she lay and trembled with the feeling, but at last fell into a +troubled sleep. + +She waked suddenly to hear footsteps passing her door. She listened. One +footstep was heavier than the other--heavier and a little stumbling; she +recognised them, Frank and Richard. In that moment her heart hardened. +Frank Armour must tread a difficult road. + + + + +CHAPTER XI. UPON THE HIGHWAY + +Frank visited the child in the morning, and was received with a casual +interest. Richard Joseph Armour was fastidious, was not to be won at the +grand gallop. Besides, he had just had a visit from his uncle, and the +good taste of that gay time was yet in his mouth. He did not resent the +embraces, but he did not respond to them, and he straightened himself +with relief when the assault was over. Some one was paying homage to +him, that was all he knew; but for his own satisfaction and pleasure +he preferred as yet his old comrades, Edward Lambert, Captain Vidall, +General Armour, and, above all, Richard. He only showed real interest at +the last, when he asked, as it were in compromise, if his father would +give him a sword. No one had ever talked to him of his father, and +he had no instinct for him so far as could be seen. The sword was, +therefore, after the manner of a concession. Frank rashly promised it, +and was promptly told by Marion that it couldn’t be; and she was backed +by Captain Vidall, who said it had already been tabooed, and Frank +wasn’t to come in and ask for favours or expect them. + +The husband and wife met at breakfast. He was down first. When his wife +entered, he came to her, they touched hands, and she presently took a +seat beside him. More than once he paused suddenly in his eating, when +he thought of his inexplicable case. He was now face to face with a +reversed situation. He had once picked up a pebble from the brown dirt +of a prairie, that he might toss it into the pool of this home life; and +he had tossed it, and from the sweet bath there had come out a precious +stone, which he longed to wear, and knew that he could not--not yet. +He could have coerced a lower being, but for his manhood’s sake--he had +risen to that now, it is curious how the dignity of fatherhood helps to +make a man--he could not coerce here, and if he did, he knew that the +product would be disaster. + +He listened to her talk with Marion and Captain Vidall. Her voice +was musical, balanced, her language breathed; it had manner, and an +indescribable cadence of intelligence, joined to a deliberation, which +touched her off with distinction. When she spoke to him--and she +seemed to do that as by studied intention and with tact at certain +intervals--her manner was composed and kind. She had resolved on her +part. She asked him about his journey over, about his plans for the day, +and if he had decided to ride with her in the Park,--he could have +the general’s mount, she was sure, for the general was not going that +day,--and would he mind doing a little errand for her afterwards in +Regent Street, for the child--she feared she herself would not have +time? + +Just then General Armour entered, and, passing behind her, kissed her on +the cheek, dropping his hand on Frank’s shoulder at the same time with +a hearty greeting. Of course, Frank could have his mount, he said. Mrs. +Armour did not come down, but she sent word by Richard, who entered +last, that she would be glad to see Frank for a moment before he left +for the Park. As of old, Richard took both Lali’s hands in his, patted +them, and cheerily said: + +“Well, well, Lali, we’ve got the wild man home again safe and sound, +haven’t we--the same old vagabond? We’ll have to turn him into a +Christian again--‘For while the lamp holds out to burn’--” + +He did not give her time to reply, but their eyes met honestly, kindly, +and from the look they both passed into life and time again with a fresh +courage. She did not know, nor did he, how near they had been to an +abyss; and neither ever knew. One furtive glance at the moment, one +hesitating pressure of the hand, one movement of the head from each +other’s gaze, and there had been unhappiness for them all. But they were +safe. + +In the Park, Frank and his wife talked little. They met many who greeted +them cordially, and numbers of Frank’s old club friends summoned him to +the sacred fires at his earliest opportunity. The two talked chiefly of +the people they met, and Frank thrilled with admiration at his wife’s +gentle judgment of everybody. + +“The true thing, absolutely the true thing,” he said; and he was +conscious, too, that her instincts were right and searching, for once or +twice he saw her face chill a little when they met one or two men whose +reputations as chevaliers des dames were pronounced. These men had had +one or two confusing minutes with Lali in their time. + +“How splendidly you ride!” he said, as he came up swiftly to her, after +having chatted for a moment with Edward Lambert. “You sit like wax, and +so entirely easy.” + +“Thank you,” she said. “I suppose I really like it too well to +ride badly, and then I began young on horses not so good as Musket +here--bareback, too!” she added, with a little soft irony. + +He thought--she did not, however--that she was referring to that first +letter he sent home to his people, when he consigned her, like any other +awkward freight, to their care. He flushed to his eyes. It cut him deep, +but her eyes only had a distant, dreamy look which conveyed nothing of +the sting in her words. Like most men, he had a touch of vanity too, and +he might have resented the words vaguely, had he not remembered his talk +with his mother an hour before. + +She had begged him to have patience, she had made him promise that he +would not in any circumstance say an ungentle or bitter thing, that he +would bide the effort of constant devotion, and his love of the child. +Especially must he try to reach her through love of the child. + +By which it will be seen that Mrs. Armour had come to some wisdom by +reason of her love for Frank’s wife and child. + +“My son,” she had said, “through the child is the surest way, believe +me; for only a mother can understand what that means, how much and how +far it goes. You are a father, but until last night you never had the +flush of that love in your veins. You stand yet only at the door of +that life which has done more to guide, save, instruct, and deepen your +wife’s life than anything else, though your brother Richard--to whom you +owe a debt that you can never repay--has done much in deed. Be wise, my +dear, as I have learned a little to be since first your wife came. All +might easily have gone wrong. It has all gone well; and we, my son, +have tried to do our duty lovingly, consistently, to dear Lali and the +child.” + +She made him promise that he would wait, that he would not try to hurry +his wife’s affection for him by any spoken or insistent claim. “For, +Frank dear,” she said, “you are only legally married, not morally, not +as God can bless--not yet. But I pray that what will sanctify all may +come soon, very soon, to the joy of us all. But again--and I cannot say +it too prayerfully--do not force one little claim that your marriage +gave you, but prove yourself to her, who has cause to distrust you so +much. Will you forgive your mother, my dear, for speaking to you?” + +He had told her then that what she had asked he had intended as his own +course, yet what she had said would keep it in his mind always, for +he was sure it was right. Mrs. Armour had then embraced him, and they +parted. Dealing with Lali had taught them all much of the human heart +that they had never known before, and the result thereof was wisdom. + +They talked casually enough for the rest of the ride, and before they +parted at the door Frank received his commission for Regent Street, and +accepted it with delight, as a schoolboy might a gift. He was absurdly +grateful for any favours from her, any sign of her companionship. They +met at luncheon; then, because Lali had to keep an engagement in Eaton +Square, they parted again, and Frank and Richard took a walk, after a +long hour with the child, who still so hungered for his sword that Frank +disobeyed orders, and dragged Richard off to Oxford Street to get one. +He was reduced to a beatific attitude of submission, for he knew that +he had few odds with him now, and that he must live by virtue of new +virtues. He was no longer proud of himself in any way, and he knew that +no one else was, or rather he felt so, and that was just the same. + +He talked of the boy, he talked of his wife, he laid plans, he tore them +down, he built them up again, he asked advice, he did not wait to hear +it, but rambled on, excited, eager. Truth is, there had suddenly been +lifted from his mind the dread and shadow of four years. Wherever he had +gone, whatever he had been or done, that dread shadow had followed him, +and now to know that instead of having to endure a hell he had to win +a heaven, and to feel as if his brain had been opened and a mass of +vapours and naughty little mannikins of remorse had been let out, was +a trifle intoxicating even to a man of his usual vigour and early +acquaintance with exciting things. + +“Dick, Dick!” he said enthusiastically, “you’ve been royal. You always +were better than any chap I ever knew. You’re always doing for others. +Hang it, Dick, where does your fun come in? Nobody seems ever to do +anything for you.” + +Richard gave his arm a squeeze. “Never mind about me, boy. I’ve had all +the fun I want, and all I’m likely to get, and so long as you’re all +willing to have me around, I’m satisfied. There’s always a lot to do +among the people in the village, one way and another, and I’ve a heap of +reading on, and what more does a fellow want?” + +“You didn’t always feel that way, Dick?” + +“No. You see, at different times in life you want different kinds of +pleasures. I’ve had a good many kinds, and the present kind is about as +satisfactory as any.” + +“But, Dick, you ought to get married. You’ve got coin, you’ve got sense, +you’re a bit distinguished-looking, and I’ll back your heart against +a thousand bishops. You’ve never been in danger of making a fool of +yourself as I have. Why didn’t you--why don’t you--get married?” + +Richard patted his brother’s shoulder. + +“Married, boy? Married? I’ve got too much on my hands. I’ve got to bring +you up yet. And when that’s done I shall have to write a book called +‘How to bring up a Parent.’ Then I’ve got to help bring your boy up, as +I’ve done these last three years and more. I’ve got to think of that +boy for a long while yet, for I know him better than you do, and I shall +need some of my coin to carry out my plans.” + +“God bless you, Dick! Bring me up as you will, only bring her along too; +and as for the boy, you’re far more his father than I am. And mother +says that it’s you that’s given me the wife I’ve got now--so what can I +say?--what can I say?” + +It was the middle of the Green Park, and Richard turned and clasped +Frank by both shoulders. + +“Say? Say that you’ll stand by the thing you swore to one mad day in the +West as well as any man that ever lived--‘to have and to hold, to love +and to cherish from this day forth till death us do part, Amen.’” + +Richard’s voice was low and full of a strange, searching something. + +Frank, wondering at this great affection and fondness of his brother, +looked him in the eyes warmly, solemnly, and replied: “For richer or for +poorer, for better or for worse, in sickness and in health--so help me +God, and her kindness and forgiveness!” + + + + +CHAPTER XII. “THE CHASE OF THE YELLOW SWAN” + +Frank and Lali did not meet until dinner was announced. The conversation +at dinner was mainly upon the return to Greyhope, which was fixed for +the following morning, and it was deftly kept gay and superficial by +Marion and Richard and Captain Vidall, until General Armour became +reminiscent, and held the interest of the table through a dozen little +incidents of camp and barrack life until the ladies rose. There had been +an engagement for late in the evening, but it had been given up +because of Frank’s home-coming, and there was to be a family gathering +merely--for Captain Vidall was now as much one of the family as Frank or +Richard, by virtue of his approaching marriage with Marion. The men left +alone, General Armour questioned Frank freely about life in the Hudson’s +Bay country, and the conversation ran on idly till it was time to join +the ladies. + +When they reached the drawing-room, Marion was seated at the piano, +playing a rhapsody of Raff’s, and Mrs. Armour and Lali were seated +side by side. Frank thrilled at seeing his wife’s hand in his mother’s. +Marion nodded over the piano at the men, and presently played a snatch +of Carmen, then wandered off into the barbaric strength of Tannhauser, +and as suddenly again into the ballet music of Faust. + +“Why so wilful, my girl?” asked her father, who had a keen taste for +music. “Why this tangle? Let us have something definite.” + +Marion sprang up from the piano. “I can’t. I’m not definite myself +to-night.” Then, turning to Lali: “Lali dear, sing something--do! Sing +my favourite, ‘The Chase of the Yellow Swan.’” + +This was a song which in the later days at Greyhope, Lali had sung +for Marion, first in her own language, with the few notes of an Indian +chant, and afterwards, by the help of the celebrated musician who had +taught her both music and singing, both of which she had learned but +slowly, it was translated and set to music. Lali looked Marion steadily +in the eyes for a moment and then rose. It cost her something to do this +thing, for while she had often talked much and long with Richard about +that old life, it now seemed as if she were to sing it to one who would +not quite understand why she should sing it at all, or what was her real +attitude towards her past--that she looked upon it from the infinite +distance of affectionate pity, knowledge, and indescribable change, and +yet loved the inspiring atmosphere and mystery of that lonely North, +which once in the veins never leaves it--never. Would he understand that +she was feeling, not the common detail of the lodge and the camp-fire +and the Company’s post, but the deep spirit of Nature, filtering through +the senses in a thousand ways--the wild ducks’ flight, the sweet smell +of the balsam, the exquisite gallop of the deer, the powder of the +frost, the sun and snow and blue plains of water, the thrilling eternity +of plain and the splendid steps of the hills, which led away by stair +and entresol to the Kimash Hills, the Hills of the Mighty Men? + +She did not know what he would think, and again on second thought she +determined to make him, by this song, contrast her as she was when +he married her, and now--how she herself could look upon that past +unabashed, speak of it without blushing, sing of it with pride, having +reached a point where she could look down and say: “This was the way by +which I came.” + +She rose, and was accompanied to the piano by General Armour, Frank +admiring her soft, springing steps, her figure so girlish and lissom. +She paused for a little before she began. Her eyes showed for a moment +over the piano, deep, burning, in-looking; then they veiled; her fingers +touched the keys, wandered over them in a few strange, soft chords, +paused, wandered again, more firmly and very intimately, and then she +sang. Her voice was a good contralto, well balanced, true, of no great +range, but within its compass melodious, and having some inexpressible +charm of temperament. Frank did not need to strain his ears to hear the +words; every one came clear, searching, delicately valued: + + “In the flash of the singing dawn, + At the door of the Great One, + The joy of his lodge knelt down, + Knelt down, and her hair in the sun + Shone like showering dust, + And her eyes were as eyes of the fawn. + And she cried to her lord, + ‘O my lord, O my life, + From the desert I come; + From the hills of the Dawn.’ + And he lifted the curtain and said, + ‘Hast thou seen It, the Yellow Swan?’ + + “And she lifted her head, and her eyes + Were as lights in the dark, + And her hands folded slow on her breast, + And her face was as one who has seen + The gods and the place where they dwell; + And she said: ‘Is it meet that I kneel, + That I kneel as I speak to my lord?’ + And he answered her: ‘Nay, but to stand, + And to sit by my side; + But speak, thou hast followed the trail, + Hast thou found It, the Yellow Swan?’ + + “And she stood as a queen, and her voice + Was as one who hath seen the Hills, + The Hills of the Mighty Men, + And hath heard them cry in the night, + Hath heard them call in the dawn, + Hath seen It, the Yellow Swan. + And she said: ‘It is not for my lord;’ + And she murmured, ‘I cannot tell, + But my lord must go as I went, + And my lord must come as I came, + And my lord shall be wise.’ + + “And he cried in his wrath, + ‘What is thine, it is mine, + And thine eyes are my eyes + Thou shalt speak of the Yellow Swan!’ + But she answered him: ‘Nay, though I die. + I have lain in the nest of the Swan, + I have heard, I have known; + When thine eyes too have seen, + When thine ears too have heard, + Thou shalt do with me then as thou wilt!’ + + “And he lifted his hand to strike, + And he straightened his spear to slay, + But a great light struck on his eyes, + And he heard the rushing of wings, + And his long spear fell from his hand, + And a terrible stillness came. + And when the spell passed from his eyes, + He stood in his doorway alone, + And gone was the queen of his soul, + And gone was the Yellow Swan.” + +Frank Armour listened as in a dream. The song had the wild swing of +savage life, the deep sweetness of a monotone, but it had also the fine +intelligence, the subtle allusiveness of romance. He could read between +the lines. The allegory touched him where his nerves were sensitive. +Where she had gone he could not go until his eyes had seen and known +what hers had seen and known; he could not grasp his happiness all in +a moment; she was no longer at his feet, but equal with him, and wiser +than he. She had not meant the song to be allusive when she began, but +to speak to him through it by singing the heathen song as his own sister +might sing it. As the song went on, however, she felt the inherent +suggestion in it, so that when she had finished it required all her +strength to get up calmly, come among them again, and listen to their +praises and thanks. She had no particular wish to be alone with Frank +just yet, but the others soon arranged themselves so that the husband +and wife were left in a cosey corner of the room. + +Lali’s heart fluttered a little at first, for the day had been trying, +and she was not as strong as she could wish. Admirably as she had gone +through the season, it had worn on her, and her constitution had become +sensitive and delicate, while yet strong. The life had almost refined +her too much. Always on the watch that she should do exactly as Marion +or Mrs. Armour, always so sensitive as to what was required of her, +always preparing for this very time, now that it had come, and her heart +and mind were strong, her body seemed to weaken. Once or twice during +the day she had felt a little faint, but it had passed off, and she +had scolded herself. She did not wish a serious talk with her husband +to-night, but she saw now that it was inevitable. + +He said to her as he sat down beside her: “You sing very well indeed. +The song is full of meaning, and you bring it all out.” + +“I am glad you like it,” she responded conventionally. “Of course it’s +an unusual song for an English drawing-room.” + +“As you sing it, it would be beautiful and acceptable anywhere, Lali.” + +“Thank you again,” she answered, closing and unclosing her fan, her eyes +wandering to where Mrs. Armour was. She wished she could escape, for she +did not feel like talking, and yet though the man was her husband she +could not say that she was too tired to talk; she must be polite. Then, +with a little dainty malice: “It is more interesting, though, in the +vernacular--and costume!” + +“Not unless you sang it so,” he answered gallantly, and with a kind of +earnestness. + +“You have not forgotten the way of London men,” she rejoined. + +“Perhaps that is well, for I do not know the way of women,” he said, +with a faint bitterness. “Yet, I don’t speak unadvisedly in this,”--here +he meant to be a little bold and bring the talk to the past,--“for I +heard you sing that song once before.” + +She turned on him half puzzled, a little nervous. “Where did you hear me +sing it?” + +He had made up his mind, wisely enough, to speak with much openness and +some tact also, if possible. “It was on the Glow Worm River at the Clip +Claw Hills. I came into your father’s camp one evening in the autumn, +hungry and tired and knocked about. I was given the next tent to yours. +It was night, and just before I turned in I heard your voice singing. I +couldn’t understand much of the language, but I had the sense of it, and +I know it when I hear it again.” + +“Yes, I remember singing it that night,” she said. “Next day was the +Feast of the Yellow Swan.” + +Her eyes presently became dreamy, and her face took on a distant, rapt +look. She sat looking straight before her for a moment. + +He did not speak, for he interpreted the look aright, and he was going +to be patient, to wait. + +“Tell me of my father,” she said. “You have been kind to him?” + +He winced a little. “When I left Fort Charles he was very well,” he +said, “and he asked me to tell you to come some day. He also has sent +you a half-dozen silver-fox skins, a sash, and moccasins made by his own +hands. The things are not yet unpacked.” + +Moccasins?--She remembered when last she had moccasins on her feet--the +day she rode the horse at the quick-set hedge, and nearly lost her +life. How very distant that all was, and yet how near too! Suddenly she +remembered also why she took that mad ride, and her heart hardened a +little. + +“You have been kind to my father since I left?” she asked. + +He met her eyes steadily. “No, not always; not more than I have been +kind to you. But at the last, yes.” Suddenly his voice became intensely +direct and honest. “Lali,” he continued, “there is much that I want to +say to you.” She waved her hand in a wearied fashion. “I want to tell +you that I would do the hardest penance if I could wipe out these last +four years.” + +“Penance?” she said dreamily--“penance? What guarantee of happiness +would that be? One would not wish another to do penance if--” + +She paused. + +“I understand,” he said--“if one cared--if one loved. Yes, I understand. +But that does not alter the force or meaning of the wish. I swear to +you that I repent with all my heart--the first wrong to you, the long +absence--the neglect--everything.” + +She turned slowly to him. “Everything-Everything?” she repeated after +him. “Do you understand what that means? Do you know a woman’s heart? +No. Do you know what a shameful neglect is at the most pitiful time in +your life? No. How can a man know! He has a thousand things--the woman +has nothing, nothing at all except the refuge of home, that for which +she gave up everything!” + +Presently she broke off, and something sprang up and caught her in the +throat. Years of indignation were at work in her. “I have had a home,” + she said, in a low, thrilling voice--“a good home; but what did that +cost you? Not one honest sentiment of pity, kindness, or solicitude. You +clothed me, fed me, abandoned me, as--how can one say it? Do I not know, +if coming back you had found me as you expected to find me, what the +result would have been? Do I not know? You would have endured me if I +did not thrust myself upon you, for you have after all a sense of legal +duty, a kind of stubborn honour. But you would have made my life such +that some day one or both of us would have died suddenly. For”--she +looked him with a hot clearness in the eyes--“for there is just so much +that a woman can bear. I wish this talk had not come now, but, since it +has come, it is better to speak plainly. You see, you misunderstand. A +heathen has a heart as another--has a life to be spoiled or made happy +as another. Had there been one honest passion in your treatment of +me--in your marrying me--there would be something on which to base +mutual respect, which is more or less necessary when one is expected to +love. But--but I will not speak more of it, for it chokes me, the insult +to me, not as I was, but as I am. Then it would probably have driven me +mad, if I had known; now it eats into my life like rust.” + +He made a motion as if to take her hands, but lifting them away quietly +she said: “You forget that there are others present, as well as the fact +that we can talk better without demonstration.” + +He was about to speak, but she stopped him. “No, wait,” she said; “for +I want to say a little more. I was only an Indian girl, but you must +remember that I had also in my veins good white blood, Scotch blood. +Perhaps it was that which drew me to you then--for Lali the Indian girl +loved you. Life had been to me pleasant enough--without care, without +misery, open, strong and free; our people were not as those others which +had learned the white man’s vices. We loved the hunt, the camp-fires, +the sacred feasts, the legends of the Mighty Men; and the earth was a +good friend, whom we knew as the child knows its mother.” + +She paused. Something seemed to arrest her attention. Frank followed her +eyes. She was watching Captain Vidall and Marion. He guessed what she +was thinking--how different her own wooing had been from theirs, how +concerning her courtship she had not one sweet memory--the thing that +keeps alive more love and loyalty in this world than anything else. +Presently General Armour joined them, and Frank’s opportunity was over +for the present. + +Captain Vidall and Marion were engaged in a very earnest conversation, +though it might not appear so to observers. + +“Come, now, Marion,” he said protestingly, “don’t be impossible. Please +give the day a name. Don’t you think we’ve waited about long enough?” + +“There was a man in the Bible who served seven years.” + +“I’ve served over three in India since I met you at the well, and that +counts double. Why so particular to a day? It’s a bit Jewish. Anyhow, +that seven years was rough on Rachel.” + +“How, Hume? Because she got passee?” + +“Well, that counted; but do you suppose that Jew was going to put in +those seven years without interest? Don’t you believe it. Rachel paid +capital and interest back, or Jacob was no Jew. Tell me, Marion, when +shall it be?” + +“Hume, for a man who has trifled away years in India, you are strangely +impatient.” + +“Mrs. Lambert says that I have the sweetest disposition.” + +“My dear sir!” + +“Don’t look at me like that at this distance, or I shall have to wear +goggles, as the man did who went courting the Sun.” + +“How supremely ridiculous you are! And I thought you such a sensible, +serious man.” + +“Mrs. Lambert put that in your head. We used to meet at the annual +dinners of the Bible Society.” + +“Why do you tell me such stuff?” + +“It’s a fact. Her father and my aunt were in that swim, and we were +sympathisers.” + +“Mercenary people!” + +“It worked very well in her case; not so well in mine. But we conceived +a profound respect for each other then. But tell me, Marion, when is it +to be? Why put off the inevitable?” + +“It isn’t inevitable--and I’m only twenty-three.” + + “Only twenty-three, + And as good fish in the sea” + +he responded, laughing. “Yes, but you’ve set the precedent for a +courtship of four years and a bit, and what man could face it?” + +“You did.” + +“Yes, but I wasn’t advertised of the fact beforehand. Suppose I had seen +the notice at the start: ‘This mortgage cannot be raised inside of four +years--and a bit!’ There’s a limit to human endurance.” + +“Why shouldn’t I hold to the number, but alter the years to days?” + +“You wouldn’t dare. A woman must live up to her reputation.” + +“Indeed? What an ambition!” + +“And a man to his manners.” + +“An unknown quantity.” + +“And a lover to his promises.” + +“A book of jokes.” Marion had developed a taste for satire. + +“Which reminds me of Lady Halwood and Mrs. Lambert. Lady Halwood was +more impertinent than usual the other day at the Sinclairs’ show, and +had a little fling at Mrs. Lambert. The talk turned on gowns. Lady +Halwood was much interested at once. She has a weakness that way. ‘Why,’ +said she, ‘I like these fashions this year, but I’m not sure that they +suit me. They’re the same as when the Queen came to the throne.’ ‘Well,’ +said Mrs. Lambert sweetly, ‘if they suited you then--’ There was an +audible titter, and Mrs. Lambert had an enemy for life.” + +“I don’t see the point of your story in this connection.” + +“No? Well, it was merely to suggest that if you had to live up to this +scheme of four-years’ probation, other people besides lovers would make +up books of jokes, and--” + +“That’s like a man--to threaten.” + +“Yes, I threaten--on my knees.” + +“Hume, how long do you think Frank will have to wait?” + +They were sitting where they had a good view of the husband and wife, +and Vidall, after a moment, said: “I don’t know. She has waited four +years, too; now it looks as if, like Jacob, she was going to gather in +her shekels of interest compounded.” + +“It isn’t going to be a bit pleasant to watch.” + +“But you won’t be here to see.” + +Marion ignored the suggestion. “She seems to have hardened since he came +yesterday. I hardly know her; and yet she looks awfully worn to-night, +don’t you think?” + +“Yes, as if she had to keep a hand on herself. But it’ll come out all +right in the end, you’ll see.” + +“Yes, of course; but she might be sensible and fall in love with Frank +at once. That’s what she did when--” + +“When she didn’t know man.” + +“Yes, but where would you all be if we women acted on what we know of +you?” + +“On our knees chiefly, as I am. Remember this, Marion, that half a +sinner is better than no man.” + +“You mean that no man is better than half a saint?” + +“How you must admire me!” + +“Why?” + +“As you are about to name the day, I assume that I’m a whole saint in +your eyes.” + +“St. Augustine!” + +“Who was he?” + +“A man that reformed.” + +“Before or after marriage?” + +“Before, I suppose.” + +“I don’t think he died happy.” + +“Why not?” + +“I’ve a faint recollection that he was boiled.” + +“Don’t be horrid. What has that to do with it?” + +“Nothing, perhaps. But he probably broke out again after marriage, and +sank at last into that caldron. That’s what it means by being-steeped in +crime.” + +“How utterly nonsensical you are!” + +“I feel light-headed. You’ve been at sea, on a yacht becalmed, haven’t +you? when along comes a groundswell, and as you rock in the sun there +comes trouble, and your head goes round like a top? Now, that’s my case. +I’ve been becalmed four years, and while I pray for a little wind to +take me--home, you rock me in the trough of uncertainty. Suspense is +very gall and wormwood. You know what the jailer said to the criminal +who was hanging on a reprieve: ‘Rope deferred maketh the heart sick.’ +Marion, give me the hour, or give me the rope.” + +“The rope enough to hang yourself?” + +She suddenly reached up and pulled a hair from her head. She laid it in +his hand-a long brown silken thread. “Hume,” she said airily yet gently, +“there is the rope. Can you love me for a month of Sundays?” + +“Yes, for ever and a day!” + +“I will cancel the day, and take your bond for the rest. I will be +generous. I will marry you in two months-and a day.” + +“My dearest girl!”--he drew her hand into both of his--“I can’t have you +more generous than myself, I’ll throw off the month.” But his eyes were +shining very seriously, though his mouth smiled. + +“Two months and a day,” she repeated. + +“We must all bundle off to Greyhope to-morrow,” came General Armour’s +voice across the room. “Down comes the baby, cradle and all.” + +Lali rose. “I am very tired,” she said; “I think I will say good-night.” + +“I’ll go and see the boy with you,” Frank said, rising also. + +Lali turned towards Marion. Marion’s face was flushed, and had a sweet, +happy confusion. With a low, trembling good-night to Captain Vidall, +a hurried kiss on her mother’s cheek, and a tip-toed caress on her +father’s head, she ran and linked her arm in Lali’s, and together they +proceeded to the child’s room. Richard was there when they arrived, +mending a broken toy. Two hours later, the brothers parted at Frank’s +door. + +“Reaping the whirlwind, Dick?” Frank said, dropping his hand on his +brother’s arm. + +Richard pointed to the child’s room. + +“Nonsense! Do you want all the world at once? You are reaping the +forgiveness of your sins.” Somehow Richard’s voice was a little stern. + +“I was thinking of my devilry, Dick. That’s the whirlwind--here!” His +hand dropped on his breast. + +“That’s where it ought to be. Good-night.” + +“Good-night.” + + + + +CHAPTER XIII. A LIVING POEM + + +Part of Frank’s most trying interview, next to the meeting with his +wife, was that with Mackenzie, who had been his special commissioner in +the movement of his masquerade. Mackenzie also had learned a great deal +since she had brought Lali--home. She, like others, had come to care +truly for the sweet barbarian, and served her with a grim kind of +reverence. Just in proportion as this had increased, her respect for +Frank had decreased. No man can keep a front of dignity in the face of +an unbecoming action. However, Mackenzie had her moment, and when it +was over, the new life began at no general disadvantage to Frank. To all +save the immediate family Frank and Lali were a companionable husband +and wife. She rode with him, occasionally walked with him, now and again +sang to him, and they appeared in the streets of St. Albans and at the +Abbey together, and oftener still in the village church near, where the +Armours of many generations were proclaimed of much account in the solid +virtues of tomb and tablet. + +The day had gone by when Lali attracted any especial notice among the +villagers, and she enjoyed the quiet beauty and earnestness of the +service. But she received a shock one Sunday. She had been nervous all +the week, she could not tell why, and others remarked how her face had +taken on a new sensitiveness, a delicate anxiety, and that her strength +was not what it had been. As, for instance, after riding she required to +rest, a thing before unknown, and she often lay down for an hour before +dinner. Then, too, at table once she grew suddenly pale and swayed +against Edward Lambert, who was sitting next to her. She would +not, however, leave the table, but sat the dinner out, to Frank’s +apprehension. He was devoted, but it was clear to Marion and her mother +at least that his attentions were trying to her. They seemed to put her +under an obligation which to meet was a trial. There is nothing more +wearing to a woman than affectionate attentions from a man who has +claims upon her, but whom she does not love. These same attentions from +one who has no claims give her a thrill of pleasure. It is useless to +ask for justice in such a matter. These things are governed by no +law; and rightly so, else the world would be in good time a loveless +multitude, held together only by the hungering ties of parent and child. + +But this Sunday wherein Lali received a shock. She did not know that the +banns for Marion’s and Captain Vidall’s marriage were to be announced, +and at the time her thoughts were far away. She was recalled to herself +by the clergyman’s voice pronouncing their names, and saying: “If any of +you do know cause or just impediment why these two people should not be +joined together in the bonds of holy matrimony, ye are to declare it.” + All at once there came back to her her own marriage when the Protestant +missionary, in his nasal monotone, mumbled these very words, not as if +he expected that any human being would, or could, offer objection. + +She almost sprang from her seat now. Her nerves all at once came to such +a tension that she could have cried out. Why had there been no one there +at her marriage to say: “I forbid it”? How shameful it had all been! And +the first kiss her husband had given her had the flavour of brandy! +If she could but turn back the hands upon the clock of Time! Under the +influence of the music and the excited condition of her nerves, the +event became magnified, distorted; it burned into her brain. It was +not made less poignant by the sermon from the text: “Mene, Mene, Tekel, +Upharsin.” When the words were first announced in the original, it +sounded like her own language, save that it was softer, and her heart +throbbed fast. Then came the interpretation: “Thou art weighed in the +balance and found wanting.” + +Then suddenly swept over her a new feeling, one she had never felt +before. Up to this point a determination to justify her child, to +reverse the verdict of the world, to turn her husband’s sin upon +himself, had made her defiant, even bitter; in all things eager to +live up to her new life, to the standard that Richard had by manner and +suggestion, rather than by words, laid down for her. But now there +came in upon her a flood of despair. At best she was only of this race +through one-third of her parentage, and education and refinement and all +things could do no more than make her possible. There must always be in +the record: “She was of a strange people. She was born in a wigwam.” She +did not know that failing health was really the cause of this lapse of +self-confidence, this growing self-depreciation, this languor for which +she could not account. She found that she could not toss the child and +frolic with it as she had done; she was conscious that within a month +there had stolen upon her the desire to be much alone, to avoid noises +and bustle--it irritated her. She found herself thinking more and more +of her father, her father to whom she had never written one line +since she had left the North. She had had good reasons for not +writing--writing could do no good whatever, particularly to a man who +could not read, and who would not have understood her new life if he +had read. Yet now she seemed not to know why she had not written, and to +blame herself for neglect and forgetfulness. It weighed on her. Why had +she ever been taken from the place of tamarack-trees and the sweeping +prairie grass? No, no, she was not, after all, fit for this life. She +had been mistaken, and Richard had been mistaken--Richard, who was +so wise. The London season? Ah! that was because people had found a +novelty, and herself of better manners than had been expected. + +The house was now full of preparations for the wedding. It stared her in +the face every day, almost every hour. Dressmakers, milliners, tailors, +and all those other necessary people. Did the others think what all this +meant to her? It was impossible that they should. When Marion came back +from town at night and told of her trials among the dressmakers, when +she asked the general opinion and sometimes individual judgment, she +could not know that it was at the expense of Lali’s nerves. + +Lali, when she married, had changed her moccasins, combed her hair, and +put on a fine red belt, and that was all. She was not envious now, not +at all. But somehow it all was a deadly kind of evidence against herself +and her marriage. Her reproach was public, the world knew it, and no +woman can forgive a public shame, even was it brought about by a man she +loved, or loves. Her chiefest property in life is her self-esteem and +her name before the world. Rob her of these, and her heaven has fallen, +and if a man has shifted the foundations of her peace, there is no +forgiveness for him till her Paradise has been reconquered. So busy were +all the others that they did not see how her strength was failing. There +were three weeks between the day the banns were announced and the day of +the wedding, which was to be in the village church, not in town; for, as +Marion said, she had seen too many marriages for one day’s triumph and +criticism; she wanted hers where there would be neither triumph nor +criticism, but among people who had known her from her childhood up. A +happy romance had raised Marion’s point of view. + +Meanwhile Frank was winning the confidence of his own child, who, +however, ranked Richard higher always, and became to a degree his +father’s tyrant. But Frank’s nature was undergoing a change. His point +of view also had enlarged. The suffering, bitterness, and humiliation +of his life in the North had done him good. He was being disciplined +to take his position as a husband and father, but he sometimes grew +heavy-hearted when he saw how his attentions oppressed his wife, and had +it not been for Richard he might probably have brought on disaster, for +the position was trying to all concerned. A few days before the wedding +Edward Lambert and his wife arrived, and he, Captain Vidall, and Frank +Armour took rides and walks together, or set the world right in the +billiard-room. Richard seldom joined them, though their efforts to +induce him to do so were many. He had his pensioners, his books, his +pipe, and “the boy,” and he had returned in all respects, in so far as +could be seen, to his old life, save for the new and larger interest of +his nephew. + +One evening the three men with General Armour were all gathered in the +billiard-room. Conversation had been general and without particular +force, as it always is when merely civic or political matters are under +view. But some one gave a social twist to the talk, and presently they +were launched upon that sea where every man provides his own chart, or +he is a very worm and no man. Each man had been differently trained, +each viewed life from a different stand-point, and yet each had been +brought up in the same social atmosphere, in the same social sets, had +imbibed the same traditions, been moved generally by the same public +considerations. + +“But there’s little to be said for a man who doesn’t, outwardly at +least, live up to the social necessity,” said Lambert. + +“And keep the Ten Commandments in the vulgar tongue,” rejoined Vidall. + +“I’ve lived seventy-odd years, and I’ve knocked about a good deal in +my time,” said the general, “but I’ve never found that you could make +a breach of social necessity, as you call it, without paying for it one +way or another. The trouble with us when we’re young is that we want to +get more out of life than there really is in it. There is not much in +it, after all. You can stand just so much fighting, just so much work, +just so much emotion--and you can stand less emotion than anything else. +I’m sure more men and women break up from a hydrostatic pressure of +emotion than from anything else. Upon my soul, that’s so.” + +“You are right, General,” said Lambert. “The steady way is the best +way. The world is a passable place, if a fellow has a decent income by +inheritance, or can earn a big one, but to be really contented to earn +money it must be a big one, otherwise he is far better pleased to take +the small inherited income. It has a lot of dignity, which the other can +only bring when it is large.” + +“That’s only true in this country; it’s not true in America,” said +Frank, “for there the man who doesn’t earn money is looked upon as a +muff, and is treated as such. A small inherited income is thought to be +a trifle enervating. But there is a country of emotions, if you like. +The American heart is worn upon the American sleeve, and the American +mind is the most active thing in this world. That’s why they grow old so +young.” + +“I met a woman a year or so ago at dinner,” said Vidall, “who looked +forty. She looked it, and she acted it. She was younger than any woman +present, but she seemed older. There was a kind of hopeless languor +about her which struck me as pathetic. Yet she had been beautiful, and +might even have been so when I saw her, if it hadn’t been for that +look. It was the look of a person who had no interest in things. And the +person who has no interest in things is the person who once had a great +deal of interest in things, who had too passionate an interest. The +revulsion is always terrible. Too much romance is deadly. It is as false +a stimulant as opium or alcohol, and leaves a corresponding mark. Well, +I heard her history. She was married at fifteen--ran away to be married; +and in spite of the fact that a railway accident nearly took her husband +from her on the night of her marriage--one would have thought that would +make a strong bond--she was soon alive to the attentions that are given +a pretty and--considerate woman. At a ball at Naples, her husband, +having in vain tried to induce her to go home, picked her up under his +arm and carried her out of the ballroom. Then came a couple of years of +opium-eating, fierce social excitement, divorce, new marriage, and so +on, until her husband agreeably decided to live in Nice, while she lived +somewhere else. Four days after I had met her at the dinner I saw +her again. I could scarcely believe my eyes. The woman had changed +completely. She was young again-twenty-five, in face and carriage, in +the eye and hand, in step and voice.” + +“Who was the man?” suggested Frank Armour. “A man about her own age, +or a little more, but who was an infant beside her in knowledge of the +world.” “She was in love with the fellow? It was a grande passion?” + asked Lambert. + +“In love with him? No, not at all. It was a momentary revival of an +old-possibility.” + +“You mean that such women never really love?” + +“Perhaps once, Frank, but only after a fashion. The rest was mere +imitation of their first impulses.” + +“And this woman?” + +“Well, the end came sooner than I expected. I tell you I was shocked at +the look in her face when I saw it again. That light had flickered out; +the sensitive alertness of hand, eye, voice, and carriage had died away; +lines had settled in the face, and the face itself had gone cold, with +that hard, cold passiveness which comes from exhausted emotions and a +closed heart. The jewels she wore might have been put upon a statue with +equal effect.” + +“It seems to me that we might pitch into men in these things and not +make women the dreadful examples,” said a voice from the corner. It was +the voice of Richard, who had but just entered. + +“My dear Dick,” said his father, “men don’t make such frightful +examples, because these things mean less to men than they do to women. +Romance is an incident to a man; he can even come through an affaire +with no ideals gone, with his mental fineness unimpaired; but it is +different with a woman. She has more emotion than mind, else there were +no cradles in the land. Her standards are set by the rules of the heart, +and when she has broken these rules she has lost her standard too. But +to come back, it is true, I think, as I said, that man or woman must +not expect too much out of life, but be satisfied with what they can get +within the normal courses of society and convention and home, and the +end thereof is peace--yes, upon my soul, it’s peace.” + +There was something very fine in the blunt, honest words of the old man, +whose name had ever been sweet with honour. + +“And the chief thing is that a man live up to his own standard,” said +Lambert. “Isn’t that so, Dick?--you’re the wise man.” + +“Every man should have laws of his own, I should think; commandments of +his own, for every man has a different set of circumstances wherein to +work--or worry.” + +“The wisest man I ever knew,” said Frank, dropping his cigar, “was a +little French-Canadian trapper up in the Saskatchewan country. A priest +asked him one day what was the best thing in life, and he answered: ‘For +a young man’s mind to be old, and an old man’s heart to be young.’ The +priest asked him how that could be. And he said: ‘Good food, a good +woman to teach him when he is young, and a child to teach him when he is +old.’ Then the priest said: ‘What about the Church and the love of +God?’ The little man thought a little, and then said: ‘Well, it is the +same--the love of man and woman came first in the world, then the child, +then God in the garden.’ Afterwards he made a little speech of good-bye +to us, for we were going to the south while he remained in a fork of the +Far Off River. It was like some ancient blessing: that we should always +have a safe tent and no sorrow as we travelled; that we should always +have a cache for our food, and food for our cache; that we should never +find a tree that would not give sap, nor a field that would not grow +grain; that our bees should not freeze in winter, and that the honey +should be thick, and the comb break like snow in the teeth; that we keep +hearts like the morning, and that we come slow to the Four Corners where +man says Good-night.” + +Each of the other men present wondered at that instant if Frank Armour +would, or could, have said this with the same feelings two months +before. He seemed almost transformed. + +“It reminds me,” said the general, “of an inscription from an Egyptian +monument which an officer of the First put into English verse for me +years ago: + + “Fair be the garden where their loves shall dwell, + Safe be the highway where their feet may go, + Rich be the fields wherein their hands may toil, + The fountains many where their good wines flow. + Full be their harvest-bins with corn and oil, + To sorrow may their humour be a foil; + Quick be their hearts all wise delights to know, + Tardy their footsteps to the gate Farewell.” + +There was a moment’s silence after he had finished, and then there was +noise without, a sound of pattering feet; the door flew open, and in ran +a little figure in white--young Richard in his bed-gown, who had broken +away from his nurse, and had made his way to the billiard-room, where he +knew his uncle had gone. + +The child’s face was flashing with mischief and adventure. He ran in +among the group, and stretched out his hands with a little fighting air. +His uncle Richard made a step towards him, but he ran back; his father +made as if to take him in his arms, but he evaded him. Presently the +door opened, the nurse entered, the child sprang from among the group, +and ran with a laughing defiance to the farthest end of the room, and, +leaning his chin on the billiard-table, flashed a look of defiant humour +at his pursuer. Presently the door opened again, and the figure of +the mother appeared. All at once the child’s face altered; he stood +perfectly still, and waited for his mother to come to him. Lali had not +spoken, and she did not speak until, lifting the child, she came the +length of the billiard-table and faced them. + +“I beg your pardon,” she said, “for intruding; but Richard has led us a +dance, and I suppose the mother may go where her child goes.” + +“The mother and the child are always welcome wherever they go,” said +General Armour quietly. + +All the men had risen to their feet, and they made a kind of semicircle +before her. The white-robed child had clasped its arms about her neck, +and nestled its face against hers, as if, with perfect satisfaction, it +had got to the end of its adventure; but the look of humour was still in +the eyes as they ran from Richard to his father and back again. + +Frank Armour stepped forwards and took the child’s hand, as it rested +on the mother’s shoulder. Lali’s face underwent a slight change as her +husband’s fingers touched her neck. + +“I must go,” she said. “I hope I have not broken up a serious +conversation--or were you not so serious after all?” she said, glancing +archly at General Armour. “We were talking of women,” said Lambert. + +“The subject is wide,” replied Lali, “and the speakers many. One would +think some wisdom might be got in such a case.” + +“Believe me, we were not trying to understand the subject,” said Captain +Vidall; “the most that a mere man can do is to appreciate it.” + +“There are some things that are hidden from the struggling mind of man, +and are revealed unto babes and the mothers of babes,” said General +Armour gravely, as, reaching out his hands, he took the child from the +mother’s arms, kissed it full upon the lips, and added: “Men do not +understand women, because men’s minds have not been trained in the same +school. When once a man has mastered the very alphabet of motherhood, +then he shall have mastered the mind of woman; but I, at least, +refuse to say that I do not understand, from the stand-point of modern +cynicism.” + +“Ah, General, General!” said Lambert, “we have lost the chivalric way of +saying things, which belongs to your generation.” + +By this time the wife had reached the door. She turned and held out her +arms for the child. General Armour came and placed the boy where he +had found it, and, with eyes suddenly filling, laid both his hands upon +Lali’s and they clasped the child, and said: “It is worth while to have +lived so long and to have seen so much.” Her eyes met his in a wistful, +anxious expression, shifted to those of her husband, dropped to the +cheeks of the child, and with the whispered word, which no one, not even +the general, heard, she passed from the room, the nurse following her. + +Perhaps some of the most striking contrasts are achieved in the least +melodramatic way. The sudden incursion of the child and its mother +into the group, the effect of their presence, and their soft departure, +leaving behind them, as it were, a trail of light, changed the whole +atmosphere of the room, as though some new life had been breathed into +it, charged each mind with new sensations, and gave each figure new +attitude. Not a man present but had had his full swing with the world, +none worse than most men, none better than most, save that each had +latent in him a good sense of honour concerning all civic and domestic +virtues. They were not men of sentimentality; they were not accustomed +to exposing their hearts upon their sleeve, but each, as the door +closed, recognised that something for one instant had come in among +them, had made their past conversation to appear meagre, crude, and +lacking in both height and depth. Somehow, they seemed to feel, although +no words expressed the thought, that for an instant they were in the +presence of a wisdom greater than any wisdom of a man’s smoking-room. + +“It is wonderful, wonderful,” said the general slowly, and no man asked +him why he said it, or what was wonderful. But Richard, sitting apart, +watched Frank’s face acutely, himself wondering when the hour would come +that the wife would forgive her husband, and this situation so fraught +with danger would be relieved. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV. ON THE EDGE OF A FUTURE + +At last the day of the wedding came, a beautiful September day, which +may be more beautiful in uncertain England than anywhere else. Lali +had been strangely quiet all the day before, and she had also seemed +strangely delicate. Perhaps, or perhaps not, she felt the crisis was +approaching. It is probable that when the mind has been strained for +a long time, and the heart and body suffered much, one sees a calamity +vaguely, and cannot define it; appreciates it, and does not know it. She +came to Marion’s room about a half-hour before they were to start for +the church. Marion was already dressed and ready, save for the few final +touches, which, though they have been given a dozen times, must still +again be given just before the bride starts for the church. Such is the +anxious mind of women on these occasions. The two stood and looked at +each other a moment, each wondering what were the thoughts of the other. +Lali was struck by that high, proud look over which lay a glamour of +infinite satisfaction, of sweetness, which comes to every good woman’s +face when she goes to the altar in a marriage which is not contingent +on the rise or fall in stocks, or a satisfactory settlement. Marion, +looking, saw, as if it had been revealed to her all at once, the intense +and miraculous change which had come over the young wife, even within +the past two months. Indeed, she had changed as much within that time as +within all the previous four years--that is, she had been brought to a +certain point in her education and experience, where without a newer +and deeper influence she could go no further. That newer and deeper +influence had come, and the result thereof was a woman standing upon the +verge of the real tragedy to her life, which was not in having married +the man, but in facing that marriage with her new intelligence and +a transformed soul. Men can face that sort of thing with a kind of +philosophy, not because men are better or wiser, but because it +really means less to them. They have resources of life, they can bury +themselves in their ambitions good or bad, but a woman can only bury +herself in her affections, unless her heart has been closed; and in that +case she herself has lost much of what made her adorable. And while she +may go on with the closed heart and become a saint, even saintship is +hardly sufficient to compensate any man or woman for a half-lived life. +The only thing worth doing in this world is to live life according +to one’s convictions--and one’s heart. He or she who sells that fine +independence for a mess of pottage, no matter if the mess be spiced, +sells, as the Master said, the immortal part of him. + +And so Lali, just here on the edge of Marion’s future, looking into that +mirror, was catching the reflection of her own life. When two women come +so near that, like the lovers in the Tempest, they have changed eyes, in +so far as to read each other’s hearts, even indifferently, which is much +where two women are concerned, there is only one resource, and that is +to fall into each other’s arms, and to weep if it be convenient, or to +hold their tears for a more fitting occasion; and most people will admit +that tears need not add to a bride’s beauty. + +Marion might, therefore, be pardoned if she had her tears in her throat +and not in her eyes, and Lali, if they arose for a moment no higher than +her heart. But they did fall into each other’s arms despite veils and +orange blossoms, and somehow Marion had the feeling for Lali that she +had on that first day at Greyhope, four years ago, when standing on +the bridge, the girl looked down into the water, tears dropping on her +hands, and Marion said to her: “Poor girl! poor girl!” The situations +were the same, because Lali had come to a new phase of her life, and +what that phase would be who could tell-happiness or despair? + +The usual person might think that Lali was placing herself and her +wifely affection at a rather high price, but then it is about the only +thing that a woman can place high, even though she be one-third a white +woman and two-thirds an Indian. Here was a beautiful woman, who had +run the gamut of a London season, who had played a pretty social part, +admirably trained therefor by one of the best and most cultured families +of England. Besides, why should any woman sell her affections even to +her husband, bargain away her love, the one thing that sanctifies “what +God hath joined let no man put asunder”? Lali was primitive, she was +unlike so many in a trivial world, but she was right. She might suffer, +she might die, but, after all, there are many things worse than that. +Man is born in a day, and he dies in a day, and the thing is easily +over; but to have a sick heart for three-fourths of one’s lifetime is +simply to have death renewed every morning; and life at that price is +not worth living. In this sensitive age we are desperately anxious to +save life, as if it was the really great thing in the world; but in +the good, strong times of the earth--and in these times, indeed, when +necessity knows its hour--men held their lives as lightly as a bird upon +the housetop which any chance stone might drop. + +It is possible that at this moment the two women understood each other +better than they had ever done, and respected each other more. Lali, +recovering herself, spoke a few soft words of congratulation, and then +appeared to busy herself in putting little touches to Marion’s dress, +that soft persuasion of fingers which does so much to coax mere cloth +into a sort of living harmony with the body. + +They had no more words of confidence, but in the porch of the church, +Marion, as she passed Lali, caught the slender fingers in her own and +pressed them tenderly. Marion was giving comfort, and yet if she had +been asked why she could not have told. She did not try to define it +further than to say to herself that she herself was having almost too +much happiness. The village was en fete, and peasants lined the street +leading to the church, ready with their hearty God-bless-you’s. Lali sat +between her husband and Mrs. Armour, apparently impassive until there +came the question: “Who giveth this woman to be married to this man?” + and General Armour’s voice came clear and strong: “I do.” Then a soft +little cry broke from her, and she shivered slightly. Mrs. Armour did +not notice, but Frank and Mrs. Lambert heard and saw, and both were +afterwards watchful and solicitous. Frank caught Mrs. Lambert’s eye, and +it said, to a little motion of the head: “Do not appear to notice.” + +Lali was as if in a dream. She never took her eyes from the group at the +altar until the end, and the two, now man and wife, turned to go into +the vestry. Then she appeared to sink away into herself for a moment, +before she fell into conversation with the others, as they moved towards +the vestry. + +“It was beautiful, wasn’t it?” ventured Edward Lambert. + +“The most beautiful wedding I ever saw,” she answered, with a little +shadow of meaning; and Lambert guessed that it was the only one she had +seen since she came to England. + +“How well Vidall looked,” said Frank, “and as proud as a sultan. Did you +hear what he said, as Marion came up the aisle?” + +“No,” responded Lambert. + +“He said, ‘By Jove, isn’t she fine!’ He didn’t seem conscious that other +people were present.” + +“Well, if a man hasn’t some inspirations on his wedding-day when is he +to have them?” said Mrs. Lambert. “For my part, I think that the woman +always does that sort of thing better than a man. It is her really great +occasion, and she masters it--the comedy is all hers.” They were just +then entering the vestry. + +“Or the tragedy, as the case may be,” said Lali quietly, smiling at +Marion. She had, as it were, recovered herself, and her words had come +with that airy, impersonal tone which permits nothing of what is said in +it to be taken seriously. Something said by the others had recalled her +to herself, and she was now returned very suddenly to the old position +of alertness and social finesse. Something icy seemed to pass over her, +and she immediately lost all self-consciousness, and began to speak to +her husband with less reserve than she had shown since he had come. But +he was not deceived. He saw that at that very instant she was further +away from him than she had ever been. He sighed, in spite of himself, as +Lali, with well-turned words, said some loving greetings to Marion, and +then talked a moment with Captain Vidall. + +“Who can understand a woman?” said Lambert to his wife meaningly. + +“Whoever will,” she answered. “How do you mean?” + +“Whoever will wait like the saint upon the pillar, will suffer like the +traveller in the desert; serve like a slave, and demand like a king; +have patience greater than Job; love ceaseless as a fountain in +the hills; who sees in the darkness and is not afraid of light; who +distrusts not, neither believes, but stands ready to be taught; who +is prepared for a kiss this hour and a reproach the next; who turneth +neither to right nor left at her words, but hath an unswerving +eye--these shall understand a woman.” + +“I never knew you so philosophical. Where did you get this deliverance +on the subject?” + +“May not even a woman have a moment of inspiration?” + +“I should expect that of my wife.” + +“And I should expect that of my husband. It is trite to say that men are +vain; I shall remark that they sit so much in their own light that they +are surprised if another being crosses their disc.” + +“You always were clever, my dear, and you always were twice too good for +me.” + +“Well, every woman--worth the knowing--is a missionary.” + +“Where does Lali come in?” + +“Can you ask? To justify the claims of womanhood in spite of race--and +all.” + +“To bring one man to a sense of the duty of sex to sex, eh?” + +“Truly. And is she not doing it well? See her now.” They were now just +leaving the church, and Lali had taken General Armour’s arm, while +Richard led his mother to the carriage. + +Lali was moving with a little touch of grandeur in her manner and a more +than ordinary deliberation. She had had a moment of great weakness, and +then there had come the reaction--carried almost too far by the force +of the will. She was indeed straining herself too far. Four years of +tension were culminating. + +“See her now, Edward,” repeated Mrs. Lambert. “Yes, but if I’m not +mistaken, my dear, she is doing so well that she’s going to pieces. +She’s overstrung to-day. If it were you, you’d be in hysterics.” + +“I believe you are right,” was the grave reply. “There will be an end to +this comedy one way or another very soon.” + +A moment afterwards they were in a carriage rolling away to Greyhope. + + + + +CHAPTER XV. THE END OF THE TRAIL + +When Marion was about leaving with her husband for the railway station, +she sought out Lali, and found her standing half hidden by the curtains +of a window, looking out at little Richard, who was parading his pony +up and down before the house. An unutterable sweetness looked out of +Marion’s eyes. She had found, as it seemed to her, and as so many have +believed until their lives’ end, the secret of existence. Lali saw the +glistening joy, and responded to it, just as it was in her being to +respond to every change of nature--that sensitiveness was in her as deep +as being. + +“You are very happy, dear?” she said to Marion. “You cannot think how +happy, Lali. And I want to say that I feel sure that you will yet be as +happy, even happier than I. Oh, it will come--it will come. And you have +the boy now-so fine, so good.” + +Lali looked out to where little Richard disported himself; her eyes +shone, and she turned with a responsive but still sad smile to Marion. +“Marion,” she said gently, “the other should have come before he came.” + “Frank loves you, Lali.” + +“Who knows? And then, oh, I cannot tell! How can one force one’s heart? +No, no! One has to wait, and wait, even if the heart grows harder, and +one gets hopeless.” + +Marion kissed her on the cheek and smiled. “Some day soon the heart will +open up, and then such a flood will pour out! See, Lali. I am going now, +and our lives won’t run together so much again ever, perhaps. But I +want to tell you now that your coming to us has done me a world of +good--helped me to be a wiser girl; and I ought to be a better woman for +it. Good-bye.” + +They were calling to her, and with a hurried embrace the two parted, and +in a few moments the bride and bridegroom were on their way to the new +life. As the carriage disappeared in a turn of the limes, Lali vanished +also to her room. She was not seen at dinner. Mackenzie came to say that +she was not very well, and that she would keep to her room. Frank sent +several times during the evening to inquire after her, and was told that +she was resting comfortably. He did not try to see her, and in this was +wise. He had now fallen into a habit of delicate consideration, which +brought its own reward. He had given up hope of winning her heart +or confidence by storm, and had followed his finer and better +instincts--had come to the point where he made no claims, and even in +his own mind stood upon no rights. His mother brought him word from Lali +before he retired, to say that she was sorry she could not see him, but +giving him a message and a commission into town the following morning +for their son. Her tact had grown is her strength had declined. There is +something in failing health--ill-health without disease--which +sharpens and refines the faculties, and makes the temper exquisitely +sensitive--that is, with people of a certain good sort. The aplomb +and spirited manner in which Lali had borne herself at the wedding and +after, was the last flicker of her old strength, and of the second phase +in her married life. The end of the first phase came with the ride at +the quick-set hedge, this with a less intent but as active a temper. + +The next morning she did not appear at breakfast, but sent a message +to Frank to say that she was better, and adding another commission for +town. All day, save for an hour on the balcony, she kept to her room, +and lay down for the greater part of the afternoon. In the evening, when +Frank returned, his mother sent for him, and frankly told him that she +thought it would be better for him to go away for a few weeks or so; +that Lali was in a languid, nervous state, and she thought that by the +time he got back--if he would go--she would be better, and that better +things would come for him. + +Frank was no longer the vain, selfish fellow who had married +Lali--something of the best in him was at work. He understood, and +suggested a couple of weeks with Richard at their little place in +Scotland. Also, he saw his wife for a little while that evening. She +had been lying down, but she disposed herself in a deep chair before +he entered. He was a little shocked to see, as it were all at once, +how delicate she looked. He came and sat down near her, and after a few +moments of friendly talk, in which he spoke solicitously of her health, +he told her that he thought of going up to Scotland with Richard for a +few weeks, if she saw no objection. + +She did not quite understand why he was going. She thought that perhaps +he felt the strain of the situation, and that a little absence would be +good for both. This pleased her. She did not shrink, as she had so often +done since his return, when he laid his hand on hers for an instant, +as he asked her if she were willing that he should go. Sometimes in the +past few weeks she had almost hated him. Now she was a little sorry for +him, but she said that of course he must go; that no doubt it was good +that he should go, and so on, in gentle, allusive phrases. The next +evening she came down to dinner, and was more like herself as she was +before Frank came back, but she ate little, and before the men came into +the drawing-room she had excused herself, and retired; at which Mrs. +Lambert shook her head apprehensively at herself, and made up her mind +to stay at Greyhope longer than she intended. + +Which was good for all concerned; for, two nights after Frank and +Richard had gone, Mackenzie hurried down to the drawing-room with the +news that Lali had been found in a faint on her chamber floor. That was +the beginning of weeks of anxiety, in which Mrs. Lambert was to Mrs. +Armour what Marion would have been, and more; and both to Lali all that +mother and sister could be. + +Their patient was unlike any other that they had known. Feverish, she +had no fever; with a gentle, hacking cough, she had no lung trouble; +nervous, she still was oblivious to very much that went on around her; +hungering often for her child, she would not let him remain long with +her when he came. Her sleep was broken, and she sometimes talked to +herself, whether consciously or unconsciously they did not know. The +doctor had no remedies but tonics--he did not understand the case; but +he gently ventured the opinion that it was mostly a matter of race, that +she was pining because civilisation had been infused into her veins--the +old insufficient theory. + +“Stuff and nonsense!” said General Armour, when his wife told him. “The +girl bloomed till Frank came back. God bless my soul! she’s falling in +love, and doesn’t know what it is.” + +He was only partly right, perhaps, but he was nearer the truth than the +dealer in quinine and a cheap philosophy of life. “She’ll come around +all right, you’ll see. Decline--decline be hanged! The girl shall +live,--damn it, she shall!” he blurted out, as his wife’s eyes filled +with tears. + +Mrs. Lambert was much of the same mind as the general, but went further. +She said to Mrs. Armour that in all her life she had never seen so sweet +a character, so sensitive a mind--a mind whose sorrow was imagination. +And therein the little lady showed herself a person of wisdom. For +none of them had yet reckoned with that one great element in Lali’s +character--that thing which is the birthright of all who own the North +for a mother, the awe of imagination, the awe and the pain, which in +its finest expression comes near, very near, to the supernatural. Lali’s +mind was all pictures; she never thought of things in words, she saw +them; and everything in her life arrayed itself in a scene before her, +made vivid by her sensitive soul, so much more sensitive now with health +failing, the spirit wearing out the body. There was her malady--the sick +heart and mind. + +A new sickness wore upon her. It had not touched her from the day she +left the North until she sang “The Chase of the Yellow Swan” that first +evening after Frank’s return. Ever since then her father was much in her +mind--the memory of her childhood, and its sweet, inspiring friendship +with Nature. All the roughness and coarseness of the life was refined +in her memory by the exquisite atmosphere of the North, the good sweet +earth, the strong bracing wind, the camaraderie of trees and streams +and grass and animals. And in it all stood her father, whom she had left +alone, in that interminable interval between the old life and the new. + +Had she done right? She had cut him off, as if he had never been--her +people, her country also; and for what? For this--for this sinking +sense, this failing body, this wear and tear of mind and heart, this +constant study to be possible where she had once been declared by the +world to be impossible. + +One night she lay sleeping after a rather feverish day, when it was +thought best to keep the child from her. Suddenly she waked, and sat up. +Looking straight before her, she said: + +“I will arise, and will go to my Father, and will say unto Him, Father, +I have sinned against heaven and before Thee, and am no more worthy to +be called Thy son.” + +She said nothing more than this, and presently lay back, with eyes wide +open, gazing before her. Like this she lay all night long, a strange, +aching look in her face. There had come upon her the sudden impulse to +leave it all, and go back to her father. But the child--that gave her +pause. Towards morning she fell asleep, and slept far on into the day, a +thing that had not occurred for a long time. + +At noon a letter arrived for her. It came into General Armour’s hands, +and he, seeing that it bore the stamp of the Hudson’s Bay Company, with +the legend, From Fort St. Charles, concluded that it was news of Lali’s +father. Then came the question whether the letter should be given to +her. The general was for doing so, and he prevailed. If it were bad +news, he said, it might raise her out of her present apathy and by +changing the play of her emotions do her good in the end. + +The letter was given to her in the afternoon. She took it apathetically, +but presently, seeing where it was from, she opened it hurriedly with a +little cry which was very like a moan too. There were two letters inside +one from the factor at Fort Charles in English, and one from her father +in the Indian language. She read her father’s letter first, the other +fluttered to her feet from her lap. General Armour, looking down, saw a +sentence in it which, he felt, warranted him in picking it up, reading +it, and retaining it, his face settling into painful lines as he did so. +Days afterwards, Lali read her father’s letter to Mrs. Armour. It ran: + + My daughter, + + Lali, the sweet noise of the Spring: + + Thy father speaks. + + I have seen more than half a hundred moons come like the sickle and + go like the eye of a running buck, swelling with fire, but I hear + not thy voice at my tent door since the first one came and went. + + Thou art gone. + + Thy face was like the sun on running water; thy hand hung on thy + wrists like the ear of a young deer; thy foot was as soft on the + grass as the rain on a child’s cheek; thy words were like snow in + summer, which melts in richness on the hot earth. Thy bow and arrow + hang lonely upon the wall, and thy empty cup is beside the pot. + + Thou art gone. + + Thou hast become great with a great race, and that is well. Our + race is not great, and shall not be, until the hour when the Mighty + Men of the Kimash Hills arise from their sleep and possess the land + again. + + Thou art gone. + + But thou hast seen many worlds, and thou hast learned great things, + and thou and I shall meet no more; for how shall the wise kneel at + the feet of the foolish, as thou didst kneel once at thy father’s + feet? + + Thou art gone. + + High on the Clip Claw Hills the trees are green, in the Plain of the + Rolling Stars the wings of the wild fowl are many, and fine is the + mist upon Goldfly Lake; and the heart of Eye-of-the-Moon is strong. + + Thou art here. + + The trail is open to the White Valley, and the Scarlet Hunter hath + saved me, when my feet strayed in the plains and my eyes were + blinded. + + Thou art here. + + I have friends on the Far Off River who show me the yards where the + musk-ox gather; I have found the gardens of the young sable, and my + tents are full of store. + + Thou art here. + + In the morning my spirit is light, and I have harvest where I would + gather, and the stubble is for my foes. In the evening my limbs are + heavy, and I am at rest in my blanket. The hunt is mine and sleep + is mine, and my soul is cheerful when I remember thee. + + Thou art here. + + I have built for thee a place where thy spirit comes. I hear thee + when thou callest to me, and I kneel outside the door, for thou art + wise, and thou speakest to me; but thee as thou art in a far land I + shall see no more. This is my word to thee, that thou mayst know + that I am not alone. Thou shalt not come again, as thou once went; + it is not meet. But by these other ways I will speak to thee. + + Thou art here. + + Farewell. I have spoken. + +Lali finished reading, and then slowly folded up the letter. The writing +was that of the wife of the factor at Fort Charles--she knew it. She +sat for a minute looking straight before her. She read her father’s +allegory. Barbarian in so much as her father was, he had beaten this +thing out with the hammer of wisdom. He missed her, but she must not +come back; she had outgrown the old life--he knew it and she was with +him in spirit, in his memory; she understood his picturesque phrases, +borrowed from the large, affluent world about him. Something of the +righteousness and magnanimity of this letter passed into her, giving her +for an instant a sort of peace. She had needed it--needed it to justify +herself, and she had been justified. To return was impossible--she had +known that all along, though she had not admitted it; the struggle had +been but a kind of remorse, after all. That her father should come to +her was also impossible--it was neither for her happiness nor his. She +had been two different persons in her life, and the first was only a +memory to the second. The father had solved the problem for her. He too +was now a memory that she could think on with pleasure, as associated +with the girl she once was. He had been well provided for by her +husband, and General Armour put his hand on hers gently and said: + +“Lali, without your permission I have read this other letter.” + +She did not appear curious. She was thinking still of her father’s +letter to her. She nodded abstractedly. “Lali,” he continued, “this says +that your father wished that letter to be written to you just as he said +it at the Fort, on the day of the Feast of the Yellow Swan. He stood +up--the factor writes so here--and said that he had been thinking much +for years, and that the time had come when he must speak to his daughter +over the seas--” + +General Armour paused. Lali inclined her head, smiled wistfully, and +held up the letter for him to see. The general continued: + +“So he spoke as has been written to you, and then they had the Feast of +the Yellow Swan, and that night--” He paused again, but presently, +his voice a little husky, he went on: “That night he set out on a long +journey,”--he lifted the letter and looked at it, then met the serious +eyes of his daughter-in-law, “on a long journey to the Hills of the +Mighty Men; and, my dear, he never came back; for, as he said, there was +peace in the White Valley, and he would rest till the world should come +to its Spring again, and the noise of its coming should be in his ears. +Those, Lali, are his very words.” + +His hand closed on hers, he reached out and took the other hand, from +which the paper fluttered, and clasped both tight in his own firm grasp. + +“My daughter,” he said, “you have another father.” With a low cry, +like that of a fawn struck in the throat, she slid forward on her knees +beside him, and buried her face on his arm. She understood. Her father +was dead. Mrs. Armour came forward, and, kneeling also, drew the dark +head to her bosom. Then that flood came which sweeps away the rust that +gathers in the eyes and breaks through the closed dikes of the heart. + +Hours after, when she had fallen into a deep sleep, General Armour and +his wife met outside her bedroom door. + +“I shall not leave her,” Mrs. Armour said. “Send for Frank. His time has +almost come.” + +But it would not have come so soon had not something else occurred. The +day that he came back from Scotland he entered his wife’s room, prepared +for a change in her, yet he did not find so much to make him happy as he +had hoped. She received him with a gentleness which touched him, she let +her hand rest in his, she seemed glad to have him with her. All bars had +been cast down between them, but he knew that she had not given him all, +and she knew it also. But she hoped he did not know, and she dreaded the +hour when he would speak out of his now full heart. He did not yet urge +his affection on her, he was simply devoted, and watchful, and tender, +and delightedly hopeful. + +But one night she came tapping at his door. When he opened it, she said: +“Oh come, come! Richard is ill! I have sent for the doctor.” + +Henceforth she was her old self again, with a transformed spirit, her +motherhood spending itself in a thousand ways. She who was weak bodily +became now much stronger; the light of new vigour came to her eyes; she +and her husband, in the common peril, worked together, thinking little +of themselves, and all of the child. The last stage of the journey to +happiness was being passed, and if it was not obvious to themselves, the +others, Marion and Captain Vidall included, saw it. + +One anxious day, after the family doctor had left the sick child’s room, +Marion, turning to the father and mother, said: “Greyhope will be itself +again. I will go and tell Richard that the danger is over.” + +As she turned to do so, Richard entered the room. “I have seen the +doctor,” he began, “and the little chap is going to pull along like a +house afire.” + +Tapping Frank affectionately on the arm, he was about to continue, +but he saw what stopped him. He saw the last move in Frank Armour’s +tragic-comedy. He and Marion left the room as quickly as was possible +to him, for, as he said himself, he was “slow at a quick march”; and +a moment afterwards the wife heard without demur her husband’s tale of +love for her. + +Yet, as if to remind him of the wrong he had done, Heaven never granted +Frank Armour another child. + + + ETEXT EDITOR’S BOOKMARKS: + + Being young, she exaggerated the importance of the event + Every man should have laws of his own + Flood came which sweeps away the rust that gathers in the eyes + His duties were many, or he made them so + How can one force one’s heart? No, no! One has to wait + If fumbling human fingers do not meddle with it + Man or woman must not expect too much out of life + May be more beautiful in uncertain England than anywhere else + Men must have their bad hours alone + Men are shy with each other where their emotions are in play + Miseries of this world are caused by forcing issues + Most important lessons of life--never to quarrel with a woman + Prepared for a kiss this hour and a reproach the next + Reading a lot and forgetting everything + Romance is an incident to a man + Simply to have death renewed every morning + Sympathy and consolation might be much misplaced + The world never welcomes its deserters + There should be written the one word, “Wait.” + There is no influence like the influence of habit + These little pieces of art make life possible + Think of our position + To sorrow may their humour be a foil + Training in the charms of superficiality + We grow away from people against our will + We want to get more out of life than there really is in it + We speak with the straight tongue; it is cowards who lie + Who never knew self-consciousness + Who can understand a woman? + Worth while to have lived so long and to have seen so much + You never can make a scandal less by trying to hide it + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Translation of a Savage, Complete +by Gilbert Parker + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TRANSLATION OF A SAVAGE, *** + +***** This file should be named 6214-0.txt or 6214-0.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/6/2/1/6214/ + +Produced by David Widger + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose +such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and +research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do +practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is +subject to the trademark license, especially commercial +redistribution. + + + +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase “Project +Gutenberg”), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at +https://gutenberg.org/license). + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. “Project Gutenberg” is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation (“the Foundation” + or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase “Project Gutenberg” appears, or with which the phrase “Project +Gutenberg” is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase “Project Gutenberg” associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +“Plain Vanilla ASCII” or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original “Plain Vanilla ASCII” or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, “Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation.” + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +“Defects,” such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the “Right +of Replacement or Refund” described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you ‘AS-IS’ WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm’s +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. +To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 +and the Foundation web page at https://www.pglaf.org. + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation’s EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at +https://pglaf.org/fundraising. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state’s laws. + +The Foundation’s principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at +809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email +business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact +information can be found at the Foundation’s web site and official +page at https://pglaf.org + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit https://pglaf.org + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including including checks, online payments and credit card +donations. To donate, please visit: https://pglaf.org/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + https://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. diff --git a/6214-0.zip b/6214-0.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..b0e308f --- /dev/null +++ b/6214-0.zip diff --git a/6214-h.zip b/6214-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..277c1be --- /dev/null +++ b/6214-h.zip diff --git a/6214-h/6214-h.htm b/6214-h/6214-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..2d2461f --- /dev/null +++ b/6214-h/6214-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,6367 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?> + +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" > + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en"> + <head> + <title> + The Translation of a Savage, Complete, by Gilbert Parker + </title> + <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + + body { margin:5%; background:#faebd7; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } + blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} + div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } + .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} + .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} + pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} + +</style> + </head> + <body> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> +Project Gutenberg's The Translation of a Savage, Complete, by Gilbert Parker + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Translation of a Savage, Complete + +Author: Gilbert Parker + +Release Date: October 18, 2006 [EBook #6214] +Last Updated: August 27, 2016 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TRANSLATION OF A SAVAGE, *** + + + +Produced by David Widger + + + + + +</pre> + + <h1> + THE TRANSLATION OF A SAVAGE + </h1> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h2> + By Gilbert Parker + </h2> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p class="toc"> + <big><b>CONTENTS</b></big> + </p> + <p> + <br /> <a href="#link2H_INTR"> INTRODUCTION </a><br /><br /> <a + href="#link2H_4_0002"> <b>THE TRANSLATION OF A SAVAGE</b> </a><br /><br /><br /> + <a href="#link2HCH0001"> CHAPTER I. </a> HIS GREAT MISTAKE + <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0002"> CHAPTER II. </a> A + DIFFICULT SITUATION <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0003"> CHAPTER III. + </a> OUT OF THE NORTH <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0004"> + CHAPTER IV. </a> IN THE NAME OF THE FAMILY <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2HCH0005"> CHAPTER V. </a> AN AWKWARD HALF-HOUR + <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0006"> CHAPTER VI. </a> THE + PASSING OF THE YEARS <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0007"> CHAPTER VII. + </a> A COURT-MARTIAL <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0008"> + CHAPTER VIII. </a> TO EVERY MAN HIS HOUR <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2HCH0009"> CHAPTER IX. </a> THE FAITH OF COMRADES + <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0010"> CHAPTER X. </a> THOU + KNOWEST THE SECRETS OF OUR HEARTS <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0011"> + CHAPTER XI. </a> UPON THE HIGHWAY <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2HCH0012"> CHAPTER XII. </a> "THE CHASE OF THE + YELLOW SWAN” <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0013"> CHAPTER XIII. </a> A + LIVING POEM <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0014"> CHAPTER XIV. </a> ON + THE EDGE OF A FUTURE <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0015"> CHAPTER XV. + </a> THE END OF THE TRAIL <br /><br /> + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <a name="link2H_INTR" id="link2H_INTR"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <h2> + INTRODUCTION + </h2> + <p> + The Translation of a Savage was written in the early autumn of 1893, at + Hampstead Heath, where for over twenty years I have gone, now and then, + when I wished to be in an atmosphere conducive to composition. Hampstead + is one of the parts of London which has as yet been scarcely invaded by + the lodging-house keeper. It is very difficult to get apartments at + Hampstead; it is essentially a residential place; and, like Chelsea, has + literary and artistic character all its own. I think I have seen more + people carrying books in their hands at Hampstead than in any other spot + in England; and there it was, perched above London, with eyes looking + towards the Atlantic over the leagues of land and the thousand leagues of + sea, that I wrote ‘The Translation of a Savage’. It was written, as it + were, in one concentrated effort, a ceaseless writing. It was, in effect, + what the Daily Chronicle said of ‘When Valmond Came to Pontiac’, a tour de + force. It belonged to a genre which compelled me to dispose of a thing in + one continuous effort, or the impulse, impetus, and fulness of movement + was gone. The writing of a book of the kind admitted of no invasion from + extraneous sources, and that was why, while writing ‘The Translation of a + Savage’ at Hampstead, my letters were only delivered to me once a week. I + saw no friends, for no one knew where I was; but I walked the heights, I + practised with my golf clubs on the Heath, and I sat in the early autumn + evenings looking out at London in that agony of energy which its myriad + lives represented. It was a good time. + </p> + <p> + The story had a basis of fact; the main incident was true. It happened, + however, in Michigan rather than in Canada; but I placed the incident in + Canada where it was just as true to the life. I was living in + Hertfordshire at the time of writing the story, and that is why the + English scenes were worked out in Hertfordshire and in London. When I had + finished the tale, there came over me suddenly a kind of feeling that the + incident was too bold and maybe too crude to be believed, and I was almost + tempted to consign it to the flames; but the editor of ‘The English + Illustrated Magazine’, Sir C. Kinloch-Cooke, took a wholly different view, + and eagerly published it. The judgment of the press was favourable,—highly + so—and I was as much surprised as pleased when Mr. George Moore, in + the Hogarth Club one night, in 1894, said to me: “There is a really + remarkable play in that book of yours, ‘The Translation, of a Savage’.” I + had not thought up to that time that my work was of the kind which would + appeal to George Moore, but he was always making discoveries. Meeting him + in Pall Mall one day, he said to me: “My dear fellow, I have made a great + discovery. I have been reading the Old Testament. It is magnificent. In + the mass of its incoherence it has a series of the most marvellous + stories. Do you remember—” etc. Then he came home and had tea with + me, revelling, in the meantime, on having discovered the Bible! + </p> + <p> + I cannot feel that ‘The Translation of a Savage’ has any significance + beyond the truthfulness with which I believe it describes the + transformation, or rather the evolution, of a primitive character into a + character with an intelligence of perception and a sympathy which is + generally supposed to be the outcome of long processes of civilisation and + culture. The book has so many friends—this has been sufficiently + established by the very large sale it has had in cheap editions—that + I am still disposed to feel it was an inevitable manifestation in the + progress of my art, such as it is. People of diverse conditions of life + have found in it something to interest and to stimulate. One of the most + volcanic of the Labour members in the House of Commons told me that the + violence of his opposition to me in debate on a certain bill was greatly + moderated by the fact that I had written ‘The Translation of a Savage’; + while a certain rather grave duke remarked to me concerning the character + of Lali that “She would have been all right anywhere.” I am bound to say + that he was a duke who, while a young man, knew the wilds of Canada and + the United States almost as well as I know Westminster. + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <a name="link2H_4_0002" id="link2H_4_0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <h1> + THE TRANSLATION OF A SAVAGE + </h1> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0001" id="link2HCH0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER I. HIS GREAT MISTAKE + </h2> + <p> + It appeared that Armour had made the great mistake of his life. When + people came to know, they said that to have done it when sober had shown + him possessed of a kind of maliciousness and cynicism almost pardonable, + but to do it when tipsy proved him merely weak and foolish. But the fact + is, he was less tipsy at the time than was imagined; and he could have + answered to more malice and cynicism than was credited to him. To those + who know the world it is not singular that, of the two, Armour was thought + to have made the mistake and had the misfortune, or that people wasted + their pity and their scorn upon him alone. Apparently they did not see + that the woman was to be pitied. He had married her; and she was only an + Indian girl from Fort Charles of the Hudson’s Bay Company, with a little + honest white blood in her veins. Nobody, not even her own people, felt + that she had anything at stake, or was in danger of unhappiness, or was + other than a person who had ludicrously come to bear the name of Mrs. + Francis Armour. If any one had said in justification that she loved the + man, the answer would have been that plenty of Indian women had loved + white men, but had not married them, and yet the population of half-breeds + went on increasing. + </p> + <p> + Frank Armour had been a popular man in London. His club might be found in + the vicinity of Pall Mall, his father’s name was high and honoured in the + Army List, one of his brothers had served with Wolseley in Africa, and + Frank himself, having no profession, but with a taste for business and + investment, had gone to Canada with some such intention as Lord Selkirk’s + in the early part of the century. He owned large shares in the Hudson’s + Bay Company, and when he travelled through the North-West country, + prospecting, he was received most hospitably. Of an inquiring and + gregarious nature he went as much among the half-breeds—or ‘metis’, + as they are called—and Indians as among the officers of the Hudson’s + Bay Company and the white settlers. He had ever been credited with having + a philosophical turn of mind; and this was accompanied by a certain strain + of impulsiveness or daring. He had been accustomed all his life to make up + his mind quickly and, because he was well enough off to bear the + consequences of momentary rashness in commercial investments, he was not + counted among the transgressors. He had his own fortune; he was not + drawing upon a common purse. It was a different matter when he trafficked + rashly in the family name so far as to marry the daughter of + Eye-of-the-Moon, the Indian chief. + </p> + <p> + He was tolerably happy when he went to the Hudson’s Bay country; for Miss + Julia Sherwood was his promised wife, and she, if poor, was notably + beautiful and of good family. His people had not looked quite kindly on + this engagement; they had, indeed, tried in many ways to prevent it; + partly because of Miss Sherwood’s poverty, and also because they knew that + Lady Agnes Martling had long cared for him, and was most happily endowed + with wealth and good looks also. When he left for Canada they were + inwardly glad (they imagined that something might occur to end the + engagement)—all except Richard, the wiseacre of the family, the + book-man, the drone, who preferred living at Greyhope, their Hertfordshire + home, the year through, to spending half the time in Cavendish Square. + Richard was very fond of Frank, admiring him immensely for his buxom + strength and cleverness, and not a little, too, for that very rashness + which had brought him such havoc at last. + </p> + <p> + Richard was not, as Frank used to say, “perfectly sound on his pins,”—that + is, he was slightly lame, but he was right at heart. He was an immense + reader, but made little use of what he read. He had an abundant humour, + and remembered every anecdote he ever heard. He was kind to the poor, + walked much, talked to himself as he walked, and was known by the humble + sort as “a’centric.” But he had a wise head, and he foresaw danger to + Frank’s happiness when he went away. While others had gossiped and + manoeuvred and were busily idle, he had watched things. He saw that Frank + was dear to Julia in proportion to the distance between her and young Lord + Haldwell, whose father had done something remarkable in guns or torpedoes + and was rewarded with a lordship and an uncommonly large fortune. He also + saw that, after Frank left, the distance between Lord Haldwell and Julia + became distinctly less—they were both staying at Greyhope. Julia + Sherwood was a remarkably clever girl. Though he felt it his duty to speak + to her for his brother,—a difficult and delicate matter, he thought + it would come better from his mother. + </p> + <p> + But when he took action it was too late. Miss Sherwood naively declared + that she had not known her own heart, and that she did not care for Frank + any more. She wept a little, and was soothed by motherly Mrs. Armour, who + was inwardly glad, though she knew the matter would cause Frank pain; and + even General Armour could not help showing slight satisfaction, though he + was innocent of any deliberate action to separate the two. Straightway + Miss Sherwood despatched a letter to the wilds of Canada, and for a week + was an unengaged young person. But she was no doubt consoled by the fact + that for some time past she had had complete control of Lord Haldwell’s + emotions. At the end of the week her perceptions were justified by Lord + Haldwell’s proposal, which, with admirable tact and obvious demureness, + was accepted. + </p> + <p> + Now, Frank Armour was wandering much in the wilds, so that his letters and + papers went careering about after him, and some that came first were last + to reach him. That was how he received a newspaper announcing the marriage + of Lord Haldwell and Julia Sherwood at the same time that her letter, + written in estimable English and with admirable feeling, came, begging for + a release from their engagement, and, towards its close, assuming, with a + charming regret, that all was over, and that the last word had been said + between them. + </p> + <p> + Armour was sitting in the trader’s room at Fort Charles when the carrier + came with the mails. He had had some successful days hunting buffalo with + Eye-of-the-Moon and a little band of metis, had had a long pow-wow in + Eye-of-the-Moon’s lodge, had chatted gaily with Lali the daughter, and was + now prepared to enjoy heartily the arrears of correspondence and news + before him. He ran his hand through the letters and papers, intending to + classify them immediately, according to such handwriting as he recognised + and the dates on the envelopes. But, as he did so, he saw a newspaper from + which the wrapper was partly torn. He also saw a note in the margin + directing him to a certain page. The note was in Richard’s handwriting. He + opened the paper at the page indicated and saw the account of the + marriage! His teeth clinched on his cigar, his face turned white, the + paper fell from his fingers. He gasped, his hands spread out nervously, + then caught the table and held it as though to steady himself. + </p> + <p> + The trader rose. “You are ill,” he said. “Have you bad news?” He glanced + towards the paper. Slowly Armour folded the paper up, and then rose + unsteadily. “Gordon,” he said, “give me a glass of brandy.” + </p> + <p> + He turned towards the cupboard in the room. The trader opened it, took out + a bottle, and put it on the table beside Armour, together with a glass and + some water. Armour poured out a stiff draught, added a very little water, + and drank it. He drew a great sigh, and stood looking at the paper. + </p> + <p> + “Is there anything I can do for you, Mr. Armour?” urged the trader. + </p> + <p> + “Nothing, thank you, nothing at all. Just leave the brandy here, will you? + I feel knocked about, and I have to go through the rest of these letters.” + </p> + <p> + He ran his fingers through the pile, turning it over hastily, as if + searching for something. The trader understood. He was a cool-headed + Scotsman; he knew that there were some things best not inquired into, and + that men must have their bad hours alone. He glanced at the brandy + debatingly, but presently turned and left the room in silence. In his own + mind, however, he wished he might have taken the brandy without being + discourteous. Armour had discovered Miss Sherwood’s letter. Before he + opened it he took a little more brandy. Then he sat down and read it + deliberately. The liquor had steadied him. The fingers of one hand even + drummed on the table. But the face was drawn, the eyes were hard, and the + look of him was altogether pinched. After he had finished this, he looked + for others from the same hand. He found none. Then he picked out those + from his mother and father. He read them grimly. Once he paused as he read + his mother’s letter, and took a gulp of plain brandy. There was something + very like a sneer on his face when he finished reading. He read the + hollowness of the sympathy extended to him; he understood the far from + adroit references to Lady Agnes Martling. He was very bitter. He opened no + more letters, but took up the Morning Post again, and read it slowly + through. The look of his face was not pleasant. There was a small + looking-glass opposite him. He caught sight of himself in it. He drew his + hand across his eyes and forehead, as though he was in a miserable dream. + He looked again; he could not recognise himself. + </p> + <p> + He then bundled the letters and papers into his despatch-box. His + attention was drawn to one letter. He picked it up. It was from Richard. + He started to break the seal, but paused. The strain of the event was too + much; he winced. He determined not to read it then, to wait until he had + recovered himself. He laughed now painfully. It had been better for him—it + had, maybe, averted what people were used to term his tragedy—had he + read his brother’s letter at that moment. For Richard Armour was a + sensible man, notwithstanding his peculiarities; and perhaps the most + sensible words he ever wrote were in that letter thrust unceremoniously + into Frank Armour’s pocket. Armour had received a terrible blow. He read + his life backwards. He had no future. The liquor he had drunk had not + fevered him, it had not wildly excited him; it merely drew him up to a + point where he could put a sudden impulse into practice without flinching. + He was bitter against his people; he credited them with more interference + than was actual. He felt that happiness had gone out of his life and left + him hopeless. As we said, he was a man of quick decisions. He would have + made a dashing but reckless soldier; he was not without the elements of + the gamester. It is possible that there was in him also a strain of + cruelty, undeveloped but radical. Life so far had evolved the best in him; + he had been cheery and candid. Now he travelled back into new avenues of + his mind and found strange, aboriginal passions, fully adapted to the + present situation. Vulgar anger and reproaches were not after his nature. + He suddenly found sources of refined but desperate retaliation. He drew + upon them. He would do something to humiliate his people and the girl who + had spoiled his life. Some one thing! It should be absolute and lasting, + it should show how low had fallen his opinion of women, of whom Julia + Sherwood had once been chiefest to him. In that he would show his scorn of + her. He would bring down the pride of his family, who, he believed, had + helped, out of mere selfishness, to tumble his happiness into the + shambles. + </p> + <p> + He was older by years than an hour ago. But he was not without the faculty + of humour; that was why he did not become very excited; it was also why he + determined upon a comedy which should have all the elements of tragedy. + Perhaps, however, he would have hesitated to carry his purposes to + immediate conclusions, were it not that the very gods seemed to play his + game with him. For, while he stood there, looking out into the yard of the + fort, a Protestant missionary passed the window. The Protestant + missionary, as he is found at such places as Fort Charles, is not a + strictly superior person. A Jesuit might have been of advantage to Frank + Armour at that moment. The Protestant missionary is not above comfortable + assurances of gold. So that when Armour summoned this one in, and told him + what was required of him, and slipped a generous gift of the Queen’s coin + into his hand, he smiled vaguely and was willing to do what he was bidden. + Had he been a Jesuit, who is sworn to poverty, and more often than not a + man of birth and education, he might have influenced Frank Armour and + prevented the notable mishap and scandal. As it was, Armour took more + brandy. + </p> + <p> + Then he went down to Eye-of-the-Moon’s lodge. A few hours afterwards the + missionary met him there. The next morning Lali, the daughter of + Eye-of-the-Moon, and the chieftainess of a portion of her father’s tribe, + whose grandfather had been a white man, was introduced to the Hudson’s Bay + country as Mrs. Frank Armour. But that was not all. Indeed, as it stood, + it was very little. He had only made his comedy possible as yet; now the + play itself was to come. He had carried his scheme through boldly so far. + He would not flinch in carrying it out to the last letter. He brought his + wife down to the Great Lakes immediately, scarcely resting day or night. + There he engaged an ordinary but reliable woman, to whom he gave + instructions, and sent the pair to the coast. He instructed his solicitor + at Montreal to procure passages for Mrs. Francis Armour and maid for + Liverpool. Then, by letters, he instructed his solicitor in London to meet + Mrs. Francis Armour and maid at Liverpool and take them to Greyhope in + Hertfordshire—that is, if General Armour and Mrs. Armour, or some + representative of the family, did not meet them when they landed from the + steamship. + </p> + <p> + Presently he sat down and wrote to his father and mother, and asked them + to meet his wife and her maid when they arrived by the steamer Aphrodite. + He did not explain to them in precise detail his feelings on Miss Julia + Sherwood’s marriage, nor did he go into full particulars as to the + personality of Mrs. Frank Armour; but he did say that, because he knew + they were anxious that he should marry “acceptably,” he had married into + the aristocracy, the oldest aristocracy of America; and because he also + knew they wished him to marry wealth, he sent them a wife rich in virtues—native, + unspoiled virtues. He hoped that they would take her to their hearts and + cherish her. He knew their firm principles of honour, and that he could + trust them to be kind to his wife until he returned to share the affection + which he was sure would be given to her. It was not his intention to + return to England for some time yet. He had work to do in connection with + his proposed colony; and a wife—even a native wife—could not + well be a companion in the circumstances. Besides, Lali—his wife’s + name was Lali!—would be better occupied in learning the + peculiarities of the life in which her future would be cast. It was + possible they would find her an apt pupil. Of this they could not + complain, that she was untravelled; for she had ridden a horse, bareback, + half across the continent. They could not cavil at her education, for she + knew several languages—aboriginal languages—of the North. She + had merely to learn the dialect of English society, and how to carry with + acceptable form the costumes of the race to which she was going. Her own + costume was picturesque, but it might appear unusual in London society. + Still, they could use their own judgment about that. + </p> + <p> + Then, when she was gone beyond recall, he chanced one day to put on the + coat he wore when the letters and paper declaring his misfortune came to + him. He found his brother’s letter; he opened it and read it. It was the + letter of a man who knew how to appreciate at their proper value the + misfortunes, as the fortunes, of life. While Frank Armour read he came to + feel for the first time that his brother Richard had suffered, maybe, from + some such misery as had come to him through Julia Sherwood. It was a + dispassionate, manly letter, relieved by gentle wit, and hinting with + careful kindness that a sudden blow was better for a man than a lifelong + thorn in his side. Of Julia Sherwood he had nothing particularly bitter to + say. He delicately suggested that she had acted according to her nature, + and that in the see-saw of life Frank had had a sore blow; but this was to + be borne. The letter did not say too much; it did not magnify the + difficulty, it did not depreciate it. It did not even directly counsel; it + was wholesomely, tenderly judicial. Indirectly, it dwelt upon the + steadiness and manliness of Frank’s character; directly, lightly, and + without rhetoric, it enlarged upon their own comradeship. It ran over + pleasantly the days of their boyhood, when they were hardly ever + separated. It made distinct, yet with no obvious purpose, how good were + friendship and confidence—which might be the most unselfish thing in + the world—between two men. With the letter before him Frank Armour + saw his act in a new light. + </p> + <p> + As we said, it is possible if he had read it on the day when his trouble + came to him, he had not married Lali, or sent her to England on this—to + her—involuntary mission of revenge. It is possible, also, that there + came to him the first vague conception of the wrong he had done this + Indian girl, who undoubtedly married him because she cared for him after + her heathen fashion, while he had married her for nothing that was + commendable; not even for passion, which may be pardoned, nor for vanity, + which has its virtues. He had had his hour with circumstance; circumstance + would have its hour with him in due course. Yet there was no extraordinary + revulsion. He was still angry, cynical, and very sore. He would see the + play out with a consistent firmness. He almost managed a smile when a + letter was handed to him some weeks later, bearing his solicitor’s + assurance that Mrs. Frank Armour and her maid had been safely bestowed on + the Aphrodite for England. This was the first act in his tragic comedy. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0002" id="link2HCH0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER II. A DIFFICULT SITUATION + </h2> + <p> + When Mrs. Frank Armour arrived at Montreal she still wore her Indian + costume of clean, well-broidered buckskin, moccasins, and leggings, all + surmounted by a blanket. It was not a distinguished costume, but it seemed + suitable to its wearer. Mr. Armour’s agent was in a quandary. He had + received no instructions regarding her dress. He felt, of course, that, as + Mrs. Frank Armour, she should put off these garments, and dress, so far as + was possible, in accordance with her new position. But when he spoke about + it to Mackenzie, the elderly maid and companion, he found that Mr. Armour + had said that his wife was to arrive in England dressed as she was. He saw + something ulterior in the matter, but it was not his province to + interfere. And so Mrs. Frank Armour was a passenger by the Aphrodite in + her buckskin garments. + </p> + <p> + What she thought of it all is not quite easy to say. It is possible that + at first she only considered that she was the wife of a white man,—a + thing to be desired, and that the man she loved was hers for ever—a + matter of indefinable joy to her. That he was sending her to England did + not fret her, because it was his will, and he knew what was best. Busy + with her contented and yet somewhat dazed thoughts of him,—she was + too happy to be very active mentally, even if it had been the + characteristic of her race,—she was not at first aware how much + notice she excited, and how strange a figure she was in this staring city. + When it did dawn upon her she shrank a little, but still was placid, + preferring to sit with her hands folded in her lap, idly watching things. + She appeared oblivious that she was the wife of a man of family and rank; + she was only thinking that the man was hers—all hers. He had treated + her kindly enough in the days they were together, but she had not been a + great deal with him, because they travelled fast, and his duties were + many, or he made them so—but the latter possibility did not occur to + her. + </p> + <p> + When he had hastily bidden her farewell at Port Arthur he had kissed her + and said: “Good-bye, my wife.” She was not yet acute enough in the + inflections of Saxon speech to catch the satire—almost involuntary—in + the last two words. She remembered the words, however, and the kiss, and + she was quite satisfied. To what she was going she did not speculate. He + was sending her: that was enough. + </p> + <p> + The woman given to her as maid had been well chosen. Armour had done this + carefully. She was Scotch, was reserved, had a certain amount of + shrewdness, would obey instructions, and do her duty carefully. What she + thought about the whole matter she kept to herself; even the solicitor at + Montreal could not find out. She had her instructions clear in her mind; + she was determined to carry them out to the letter—for which she was + already well paid, and was like to be better paid; because Armour had + arranged that she should continue to be with his wife after they got to + England. She understood well the language of Lali’s tribe, and because + Lali’s English was limited she would be indispensable in England. + </p> + <p> + Mackenzie, therefore, had responsibility, and if she was not elated over + it, she still knew the importance of her position, and had enough + practical vanity to make her an efficient servant and companion. She + already felt that she had got her position in life, from which she was to + go out no more for ever. She had been brought up in the shadow of Alnwick + Castle, and she knew what was due to her charge—by other people; + herself only should have liberty with her. She was taking Lali to the home + of General Armour, and that must be kept constantly before her mind. + Therefore, from the day they set foot on the Aphrodite, she kept her place + beside Mrs. Armour, sitting with her,—they walked very little,—and + scarcely ever speaking, either to her or to the curious passengers. + Presently the passengers became more inquisitive, and made many attempts + at being friendly; but these received little encouragement. It had become + known who the Indian girl was, and many wild tales went about as to her + marriage with Francis Armour. Now it was maintained she had saved his life + at an outbreak of her tribe; again, that she had found him dying in the + woods and had nursed him back to life and health; yet again, that she was + a chieftainess, a successful claimant against the Hudson’s Bay Company—and + so on. + </p> + <p> + There were several on board who knew the Armours well by name, and two who + knew them personally. One was Mr. Edward Lambert, a barrister of the + Middle Temple, and the other was Mrs. Townley, a widow, a member of a + well-known Hertfordshire family, who, on a pleasant journey in Scotland, + had met, conquered, and married a wealthy young American, and had been + left alone in the world, by no means portionless, eighteen months before. + Lambert knew Richard Armour well, and when, from Francis Armour’s + solicitor, with whom he was acquainted, he heard, just before they + started, who the Indian girl was, he was greatly shocked and sorry. He + guessed at once the motive, the madness, of this marriage. But he kept his + information and his opinions mostly to himself, except in so far as it + seemed only due to friendship to contradict the numberless idle stories + going about. After the first day at sea he came to know Mrs. Townley, and + when he discovered that they had many common friends and that she knew the + Armours, he spoke a little more freely to her regarding the Indian wife, + and told her what he believed was the cause of the marriage. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Townley was a woman—a girl—of uncommon gentleness of + disposition, and, in spite of her troubles, inclined to view life with a + sunny eye. She had known of Frank Armour’s engagement with Miss Julia + Sherwood, but she had never heard the sequel. If this was the sequel—well, + it had to be faced. But she was almost tremulous with sympathy when she + remembered Mrs. Armour, and Frank’s gay, fashionable sister, Marion, and + contemplated the arrival of this Indian girl at Greyhope. She had always + liked Frank Armour, but this made her angry with him; for, on second + thoughts, she was not more sorry for him and for his people than for Lali, + the wife. She had the true instinct of womanhood, and she supposed that a + heathen like this could have feelings to be hurt and a life to be wounded + as herself or another. At least she saw what was possible in the future + when this Indian girl came to understand her position—only to be + accomplished by contact with the new life, so different from her past. + Both she and Lambert decided that she was very fine-looking, not + withstanding her costume. She was slim and well built, with modest bust + and shapely feet and ankles. Her eyes were large, meditative, and + intelligent, her features distinguished. She was a goodly product of her + race, being descended from a line of chiefs and chieftainesses—broken + only in the case of her grandfather, as has been mentioned. Her hands (the + two kindly inquisitors decided) were almost her best point. They were + perfectly made, slim, yet plump, the fingers tapering, the wrist supple. + Mrs. Townley then and there decided that the girl had possibilities. But + here she was, an Indian, with few signs of civilisation or of that + breeding which seems to white people the only breeding fit for earth or + heaven. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Townley did not need Lambert’s suggestion that she should try to + approach the girl, make friends with her, and prepare her in some slight + degree for the strange career before her. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Townley had an infinite amount of tact. She knew it was best to + approach the attendant first. This she did, and, to the surprise of other + lady-passengers, received no rebuff. Her advance was not, however, rapid. + Mackenzie had had her instructions. When she found that Mrs. Townley knew + Francis Armour and his people, she thawed a little more, and then, very + hesitatingly, she introduced her to the Indian wife. Mrs. Townley smiled + her best—and there were many who knew how attractive she could be at + such a moment. There was a slight pause, in which Lali looked at her + meditatively, earnestly, and then those beautiful wild fingers glided out, + and caught her hand, and held it; but she spoke no word. She only looked + inquiringly, seriously, at her new-found friend, and presently dropped the + blanket away from her, and sat up firmly, as though she felt she was not + altogether an alien now, and had a right to hold herself proudly among + white people, as she did in her own country and with her own tribe, who + had greatly admired her. Certainly Mrs. Townley could find no fault with + the woman as an Indian. She had taste, carried her clothes well, and was + superbly fresh in appearance, though her hair still bore very slight + traces of the grease which even the most aristocratic Indians use. + </p> + <p> + But Lali would not talk. Mrs. Townley was anxious that the girl should be + dressed in European costume, and offered to lend and rearrange dresses of + her own, but she came in collision with Mr. Armour’s instructions. So she + had to assume a merely kind and comforting attitude. The wife had not the + slightest idea where she was going, and even when Mackenzie, at Mrs. + Townley’s oft-repeated request, explained very briefly and + unpicturesquely, she only looked incredulous or unconcerned. Yet the ship, + its curious passengers, the dining saloon, the music, the sea, and all, + had given her suggestions of what was to come. They had expected that at + table she would be awkward and ignorant to a degree. But she had at times + eaten at the trader’s table at Fort Charles, and had learned how to use a + knife and fork. She had also been a favourite with the trader’s wife, who + had taught her very many civilised things. Her English, though far from + abundant, was good. Those, therefore, who were curious and rude enough to + stare at her were probably disappointed to find that she ate like “any + Christom man.” + </p> + <p> + “How do you think the Armours will receive her?” said Lambert to Mrs. + Townley, of whose judgment on short acquaintance he had come to entertain + a high opinion. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Townley had a pretty way of putting her head to one side and speaking + very piquantly. She had had it as a girl; she had not lost it as a woman, + any more than she had lost a soft little spontaneous laugh which was one + of her unusual charms—for few women can laugh audibly with effect. + She laughed very softly now, and, her sense of humour supervening for the + moment, she said: + </p> + <p> + “Really, you have asked me a conundrum. I fancy I see Mrs. Armour’s face + when she gets the news,—at the breakfast-table, of course, and gives + a little shriek, and says: ‘General! oh, General!’ But it is all very + shocking, you know,” she added, in a lower voice. “Still I think they will + receive her and do the best they can for her; because, you see, there she + is, married hard and fast. She bears the Armour name, and is likely to + make them all very unhappy, indeed, if she determines to retaliate upon + them for any neglect.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. But how to retaliate, Mrs. Townley?” Lambert had not a suggestive + mind. + </p> + <p> + “Well, for instance, suppose they sent her away into seclusion,—with + Frank’s consent, another serious question,—and she should take the + notion to fly her retirement, and appear inopportunely at some social + function clothed as she is now! I fancy her blanket would be a wet one in + such a case—if you will pardon the little joke.” + </p> + <p> + Lambert sighed. “Poor Frank—poor devil!” he said, almost beneath his + breath. + </p> + <p> + “And wherefore poor Frank? Do you think he or the Armours of Greyhope are + the only ones at stake in this? What about this poor girl? Just think why + he married her, if our suspicions are right,—and then imagine her + feelings when she wakes to the truth over there, as some time she is sure + to do!” + </p> + <p> + Then Lambert began to see the matter in a different light, and his + sympathy for Francis Armour grew less as his pity for the girl increased. + In fact, the day before they got to Liverpool he swore at Armour more than + once, and was anxious concerning the reception of the heathen wife by her + white relatives. + </p> + <p> + Had he been present at a certain scene at Greyhope a day or two before, he + would have been still more anxious. It was the custom, at breakfast, for + Mrs. Armour to open her husband’s letters and read them while he was + engaged with his newspaper, and hand to him afterwards those that were + important. This morning Marion noticed a letter from Frank amongst the + pile, and, without a word, pounced upon it. She was curious—as any + woman would be—to see how he took Miss Sherwood’s action. Her father + was deep in his paper at the time. Her mother was reading other letters. + Marion read the first few lines with a feeling of almost painful wonder, + the words were so curious, cynical, and cold. + </p> + <p> + Richard sat opposite her. He also was engaged with his paper, but, + chancing to glance up, he saw that she was becoming very pale, and that + the letter trembled in her fingers. Being a little short-sighted, he was + not near enough to see the handwriting. He did not speak yet. He watched. + Presently, seeing her grow more excited, he touched her foot under the + table. She looked up, and caught his eye. She gasped slightly. She gave + him a warning look, and turned away from her mother. Then she went on + reading to the bitter end. + </p> + <p> + Presently a little cry escaped her against her will. At that her mother + looked up, but she only saw her daughter’s back, as she rose hurriedly + from the table, saying that she would return in a moment. Mrs. Armour, + however, had been startled. She knew that Marion had been reading a + letter, and, with a mother’s instinct, her thoughts were instantly on + Frank. She spoke quickly, almost sharply: + </p> + <p> + “Marion, come here.” + </p> + <p> + Richard had risen. He came round the table, and, as the girl obeyed her + mother, took the letter from her fingers and hastily glanced over it. Mrs. + Armour came forward and took her daughter’s arm. “Marion,” she said, + “there is something wrong—with Frank. What is it?” + </p> + <p> + General Armour was now looking up at them all, curiously, questioningly, + through his glasses, his paper laid down, his hands resting on the table. + </p> + <p> + Marion could not answer. She was sick with regret, vexation, and shame; at + the first flush, death—for Frank—had been preferable to this. + She had a considerable store of vanity; she was not very philosophical. + Besides, she was not married; and what Captain Vidall, her devoted admirer + and possible husband, would think of this heathenish alliance was not a + cheer ful thought to her. She choked down a sob, and waved her hand + towards Richard to answer for her. He was pale too, but cool. He + understood the case instantly; he made up his mind instantly also as to + what ought to be—must be—done. + </p> + <p> + “Well, mother,” he said, “it is about Frank. But he is all right; that is, + he is alive and well-in body. But he has arranged a hateful little + embarrassment for us—he is married.” + </p> + <p> + “Married!” exclaimed his mother faintly. “Oh, poor Lady Agnes!” + </p> + <p> + Marion sniffed a little viciously at this. + </p> + <p> + “Married? Married?” said his father. “Well, what about it? eh? what about + it?” + </p> + <p> + The mother wrung her hands. “Oh, I know it is something dreadful—dreadful! + He has married some horrible wild person, or something.” + </p> + <p> + Richard, miserable as he was, remained calm. “Well,” said he, “I don’t + know about her being horrible. Frank is silent on that point; but she is + wild enough—a wild Indian, in fact.” + </p> + <p> + “Indian? Indian? Good God—a red nigger!” cried General Armour + harshly, starting to his feet. + </p> + <p> + “An Indian? a wild Indian?” Mrs. Armour whispered faintly, as she dropped + into a chair. + </p> + <p> + “And she’ll be here in two or three days,” fluttered Marion hysterically. + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile Richard had hastily picked up the Times. “She is due here the + day after to-morrow,” he said deliberately. “Frank is as decisive as he is + rash. Well, it’s a melancholy tit-for-tat.” + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean by tit-for-tat?” cried his father angrily. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I mean that—that we tried to hasten Julia’s marriage—with + the other fellow, and he is giving us one in return; and you will all + agree that it’s a pretty permanent one.” + </p> + <p> + The old soldier recovered himself, and was beside his wife in an instant. + He took her hand. “Don’t fret about it, wife,” he said; “it’s an ugly + business, but we must put up with it. The boy was out of his head. We are + old, now, my dear, but there was a time when we should have resented such + a thing as much as Frank—though not in the same fashion, perhaps—not + in the same fashion.” The old man pressed his lips hard to keep down his + emotion. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, how could he—how could he!” said his mother: “we meant + everything for the best.” + </p> + <p> + “It is always dangerous business meddling with lovers’ affairs,” rejoined + Richard. “Lovers take themselves very seriously indeed, and—well, + here the thing is! Now, who will go and fetch her from Liverpool? I should + say that both my father and my mother ought to go.” + </p> + <p> + Thus Richard took it for granted that they would receive Frank’s Indian + wife into their home. He intended that, so far as he was concerned, there + should be no doubt upon the question from the beginning. + </p> + <p> + “Never—she shall never come here!” said Marion, with flashing eyes; + “a common squaw, with greasy hair, and blankets, and big mouth, and black + teeth, who eats with her fingers and grunts! If she does, if she is + brought to Greyhope, I will never show my face in the world again. Frank + married the animal: why does he ship her home to us? Why didn’t he come + with her? Why does he not take her to a home of his own? Why should he + send her here, to turn our house into a menagerie?” + </p> + <p> + Marion drew her skirt back, as if the common squaw, with her blankets and + grease, was at that moment near her. + </p> + <p> + “Well, you see,” continued Richard, “that is just it. As I said, Frank + arranged this little complication with a trifling amount of malice. No + doubt he didn’t come with her because he wished to test the family loyalty + and hospitality; but a postscript to this letter says that his solicitor + has instructions to meet his wife at Liverpool, and bring her on here in + case we fail to show her proper courtesy.” + </p> + <p> + General Armour here spoke. “He has carried the war of retaliation very far + indeed, but men do mad things when their blood is up, as I have seen + often. That doesn’t alter our clear duty in the matter. If the woman were + bad, or shameful, it would be a different thing; if—” + </p> + <p> + Marion interrupted: “She has ridden bareback across the continent like a + jockey,—like a common jockey, and she wears a blanket, and she + doesn’t know a word of English, and she will sit on the floor!” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said her father, “all these things are not sins, and she must be + taught better.” + </p> + <p> + “Joseph, how can you?” said Mrs. Armour indignantly. “She cannot, she + shall not come here. Think of Marion. Think of our position.” + </p> + <p> + She hid her troubled, tear-stained face behind her handkerchief. At the + same time she grasped her husband’s hand. She knew that he was right. She + honoured him in her heart for the position he had taken, but she could not + resist the natural impulse of a woman where her taste and convention were + shocked. + </p> + <p> + The old man was very pale, but there was no mistaking his determination. + He had been more indignant than any of them, at first, but he had an + unusual sense of justice when he got face to face with it, as Richard had + here helped him to do. “We do not know that the woman has done any wrong,” + he said. “As for our name and position, they, thank God! are where a mad + marriage cannot unseat them. We have had much prosperity in the world, my + wife; we have had neither death nor dishonour; we—” + </p> + <p> + “If this isn’t dishonour, father, what is?” Marion flashed out. + </p> + <p> + He answered calmly. “My daughter, it is a great misfortune, it will + probably be a lifelong trial, but it is not necessarily dishonour.” + </p> + <p> + “You never can make a scandal less by trying to hide it,” said Richard, + backing up his father. “It is all pretty awkward, but I daresay we shall + get some amusement out of it in the end.” + </p> + <p> + “Richard,” said his mother through her tears, “you are flippant and + unkind!” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed, mother,” was his reply, “I never was more serious in my life. + When I spoke of amusement, I meant comedy merely, not fun—the thing + that looks like tragedy and has a happy ending. That is what I mean, + mother, nothing more.” + </p> + <p> + “You are always so very deep, Richard,” remarked Marion ironically, “and + care so very little how the rest of us feel about things. You have no + family pride. If you had married a squaw, we shouldn’t have been + surprised. You could have camped in the grounds with your wild woman, and + never have been missed—by the world,” she hastened to add, for she + saw a sudden pain in his face. + </p> + <p> + He turned from them all a little wearily, and limped over to the window. + He stood looking out into the limes where he and Frank had played when + boys. He put his finger up, his unhandsome finger, and caught away some + moisture from his eyes. He did not dare to let them see his face, nor yet + to speak. Marion had cut deeper than she knew, and he would carry the + wound for many a day before it healed. + </p> + <p> + But his sister felt instantly how cruel she had been, as she saw him limp + away, and caught sight of the bowed shoulders and the prematurely grey + hair. Her heart smote her. She ran over, and impulsively put her hands on + his shoulder. “Oh, Dick,” she said, “forgive me, Dick! I didn’t mean it. I + was angry and foolish and hateful.” + </p> + <p> + He took one of her hands as it rested on his shoulder, she standing partly + behind him, and raised it to his lips, but he did not turn to her; he + could not. + </p> + <p> + “It is all right—all right,” he said; “it doesn’t make any + difference. Let us think of Frank and what we have got to do. Let us stand + together, Marion; that is best.” + </p> + <p> + But her tears were dropping on his shoulder, as her forehead rested on her + hand. He knew now that, whatever Frank’s wife was, she would not have an + absolute enemy here; for when Marion cried her heart was soft. She was + clay in the hands of the potter whom we call Mercy—more often a + stranger to the hearts of women than of men. At the other side of the room + also the father and mother, tearless now, watched these two; and the + mother saw her duty better and with less rebelliousness. She had felt it + from the first, but she could not bring her mind to do it. They held each + other’s hands in silence. Presently General Armour said: “Richard, your + mother and I will go to Liverpool to meet Frank’s wife.” + </p> + <p> + Marion shuddered a little, and her hands closed on Richard’s shoulder, but + she said nothing. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0003" id="link2HCH0003"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER III. OUT OF THE NORTH + </h2> + <p> + It was a beautiful day—which was so much in favour of Mrs. Frank + Armour in relation to her husband’s people. General Armour and his wife + had come down from London by the latest train possible, that their + suspense at Liverpool might be short. They said little to each other, but + when they did speak it was of things very different from the skeleton + which they expected to put into the family cupboard presently. Each was + trying to spare the other. It was very touching. They naturally looked + upon the matter in its most unpromising light, because an Indian was an + Indian, and this unknown savage from Fort Charles was in violent contrast + to such desirable persons as Lady Agnes Martling. Not that the Armours + were zealous for mere money and title, but the thing itself was altogether + a propos, as Mrs. Armour had more naively than correctly put it. The + general, whose knowledge of character and the circumstances of life was + considerable, had worked out the thing with much accuracy. He had declared + to Richard, in their quiet talk upon the subject, that Frank must have + been anything but sober when he did it. He had previously called it a + policy of retaliation; so that now he was very near the truth. When they + arrived at the dock at Liverpool, the Aphrodite was just making into the + harbour. + </p> + <p> + “Egad,” said General Armour to himself, “Sebastopol was easier than this; + for fighting I know, and being peppered I know, by Jews, Greeks, infidels, + and heretics; but to take a savage to my arms and do for her what her + godfathers and godmothers never did, is worse than the devil’s dance at + Delhi.” + </p> + <p> + What Mrs. Armour, who was not quite so definite as her husband, thought, + it would be hard to tell; but probably grief for, and indignation at, her + son, were uppermost in her mind. She had quite determined upon her course. + None could better carry that high, neutral look of social superiority than + she. + </p> + <p> + Please Heaven, she said to herself, no one should see that her equanimity + was shaken. They had brought one servant with them, who had been gravely + and yet conventionally informed that his young master’s wife, an Indian + chieftainess, was expected. There are few family troubles but find their + way to servants’ hall with an uncomfortable speed; for, whether or not + stone walls have ears, certainly men-servants and maid-servants have eyes + that serve for ears, and ears that do more than their bounden duty. + Boulter, the footman, knew his business. When informed of the coming of + Mrs. Francis Armour, the Indian chieftainess, his face was absolutely + expressionless; his “Yessir” was as mechanical as usual. On the dock he + was marble—indifferent. When the passengers began to land, he showed + no excitement. He was decorously alert. When the crucial moment came, he + was imperturbable. Boulter was an excellent servant. So said Edward + Lambert to himself after the event; so, likewise, said Mrs. Townley to + herself when the thing was over; so declared General Armour many a time + after, and once very emphatically, just before he raised Boulter’s wages. + </p> + <p> + As the boat neared Liverpool, Lambert and Mrs. Townley grew nervous. The + truth regarding the Indian wife had become known among the passengers, and + most were very curious—some in a well-bred fashion, some + intrusively, vulgarly. Mackenzie, Lali’s companion, like Boulter, was + expressionless in face. She had her duty to do, paid for liberally, and + she would do it. Lali might have had a more presentable and dignified + attendant, but not one more worthy. It was noticeable that the captain of + the ship and all the officers had been markedly courteous to Mrs. Armour + throughout the voyage, but, to their credit, not ostentatiously so. When + the vessel was brought to anchor and the passengers were being put upon + the tender, the captain came and made his respectful adieus, as though + Lali were a lady of title in her own right, and not an Indian girl married + to a man acting under the influence of brandy and malice. General Armour + and Mrs. Armour were always grateful to Lambert and Mrs. Townley for the + part they played in this desperate little comedy. They stood still and + watchful as the passengers came ashore one by one. They saw that they were + the centre of unusual interest, but General Armour was used to bearing + himself with a grim kind of indifference in public, and his wife was calm, + and so somewhat disappointed those who probably expected the old officer + and his wife to be distressed. Frank Armour’s solicitor was also there, + but, with good taste, he held aloof. The two needed all their courage, + however, when they saw a figure in buckskin and blanket step upon the + deck, attended by a very ordinary, austere, and shabbily-dressed + Scotswoman. But immediately behind them were Edward Lambert and Mrs. + Townley, and these, with their simple tact, naturalness, and freedom from + any sort of embarrassment, acted as foils, and relieved the situation. + </p> + <p> + General Armour advanced, hat in hand. “You are my son’s wife?” he said + courteously to this being in a blanket. + </p> + <p> + She looked up and shook her head slightly, for she did not quite + understand; but she recognised his likeness to her husband, and presently + she smiled up musingly. Mackenzie repeated to her what General Armour had + said. She nodded now, a flash of pleasure lighting up her face, and she + slid out her beautiful hand to him. The general took it and pressed it + mechanically, his lips twitching slightly. He pressed it far harder than + he meant, for his feelings were at tension. She winced slightly, and + involuntarily thrust out her other hand, as if to relieve his pressure. As + she did so the blanket fell away from her head and shoulders. Lambert, + with excellent intuition, caught it, and threw it across his arm. Then, + quickly, and without embarrassment, he and Mrs. Townley greeted General + Armour, who returned the greetings gravely, but in a singular, + confidential tone, which showed his gratitude. Then he raised his hat + again to Lali, and said: “Come and let me introduce you—to your + husband’s mother.” + </p> + <p> + The falling back of that blanket had saved the situation; for when the + girl stood without it in her buckskin garments there was a dignity in her + bearing which carried off the bizarre event. There was timidity in her + face, and yet a kind of pride too, though she was only a savage. The case, + even at this critical moment, did not seem quite hopeless. When they came + to Mrs. Armour, Lali shrank away timidly from the look in the mother’s + eyes, and, shivering slightly, looked round for her blanket. But Lambert + had deftly passed it on to the footman. Presently Mrs. Armour took both + the girl’s hands in hers (perhaps she did it because the eyes of the + public were on her, but that is neither here nor there—she did it), + and kissed her on the cheek. Then they moved away to a closed carriage. + </p> + <p> + And that was the second act in Frank Armour’s comedy of errors. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0004" id="link2HCH0004"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IV. IN THE NAME OF THE FAMILY + </h2> + <p> + The journey from Liverpool to Greyhope was passed in comparative silence. + The Armours had a compartment to themselves, and they made the Indian girl + as comfortable as possible without self-consciousness, without any + artificial politeness. So far, what they had done was a matter of duty, + not of will; but they had done their duty naturally all their lives, and + it was natural to them now. They had no personal feelings towards the girl + one way or another, as yet. It was trying to them that people stared into + the compartment at different stations. It presently dawned upon General + Armour that it might also be trying to their charge. Neither he nor his + wife had taken into account the possibility of the girl having feelings to + be hurt. But he had noticed Lali shrink visibly and flush slightly when + some one stared harder than usual, and this troubled him. It opened up a + possibility. He began indefinitely to see that they were not the only + factors in the equation. He was probably a little vexed that he had not + seen it before; for he wished to be a just man. He was wont to quote with + more or less austerity—chiefly the result of his professional life—this: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “For justice, all place a temple, and all season summer.” + </pre> + <p> + And, man of war as he was, he had another saying which was much in his + mouth; and he lived up to it with considerable sincerity: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Still in thy right hand carry gentle peace, + To silence envious tongues.” + </pre> + <p> + He whispered to his wife. It would have been hard to tell from her look + what she thought of the matter, but presently she changed seats with her + husband, that he might, by holding his newspaper at a certain angle, + shield the girl from intrusive gazers. + </p> + <p> + At every station the same scene was enacted. And inquisitive people must + have been surprised to see how monotonously ordinary was the manner of the + three white people in the compartment. Suddenly, at a station near London, + General Armour gave a start, and used a strong expression under his + breath. Glancing at the “Marriage” column, he saw a notice to the effect + that on a certain day of a certain month, Francis Gilbert, the son of + General Joseph Armour, C.B., of Greyhope, Hertfordshire, and Cavendish + Square, was married to Lali, the daughter of Eye-of-the-Moon, chief of the + Bloods, at her father’s lodge in the Saskatchewan Valley. This had been + inserted by Frank Armour’s solicitor, according to his instructions, on + the day that the Aphrodite was due at Liverpool. General Armour did not at + first intend to show this to his wife, but on second thought he did, + because he knew she would eventually come to know of it, and also because + she saw that something had moved him. She silently reached out her hand + for the paper. He handed it to her, pointing to the notice. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Armour was unhappy, but her self-possession was admirable, and she + said nothing. She turned her face to the window, and sat for a long time + looking out. She did not turn to the others, for her eyes were full of + tears, and she did not dare to wipe them away, nor yet to let them be + seen. She let them dry there. She was thinking of her son, her favourite + son, for whom she had been so ambitious, and for whom, so far as she + could, and retain her self-respect, she had delicately intrigued, that he + might happily and befittingly marry. She knew that in the matter of his + engagement she had not done what was best for him, but how could she have + guessed that this would be the result? She also was sure that when the + first flush of his anger and disappointment had passed, and he came to + view this thing with cooler mind, he would repent deeply—for a whole + lifetime. She was convinced that he had not married this savage for + anything which could make marriage endurable. Under the weight of the + thought she was likely to forget that the young alien wife might have lost + terribly in the event also. + </p> + <p> + The arrival at Euston and the departure from St. Pancras were rather + painful all round, for, though there was no waiting at either place, the + appearance of an Indian girl in native costume was uncommon enough, even + in cosmopolitan London, to draw much attention. Besides, the placards of + the evening papers were blazoned with such announcements as this: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + A RED INDIAN GIRL + MARRIED INTO + AN ENGLISH COUNTY FAMILY. +</pre> + <p> + Some one had telegraphed particulars—distorted particulars—over + from Liverpool, and all the evening sheets had their portion of + extravagance and sensation. General Armour became a little more erect and + austere as he caught sight of these placards, and Mrs. Armour groaned + inwardly; but their faces were inscrutable, and they quietly conducted + their charge, minus her blanket, to the train which was to take them to + St. Albans, and were soon wheeling homeward. + </p> + <p> + At Euston they parted with Lambert and Mrs. Townley, who quite simply and + conventionally bade good-bye to them and their Indian daughter-in-law. + Lali had grown to like Mrs. Townley, and when they parted she spoke a few + words quickly in her own tongue, and then immediately was confused, + because she remembered that she could not be understood. But presently she + said in halting English that the face of her white friend was good, and + she hoped that she would come one time and sit beside her in her wigwam, + for she would be sad till her husband travelled to her. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Townley made some polite reply in simple English, pressed the girl’s + hand sympathetically, and hurried away. Before she parted from Mr. + Lambert, however, she said, with a pretty touch of cynicism: “I think I + see Marion Armour listening to her sister-in-law issue invitations to her + wigwam. I am afraid I should be rather depressed myself if I had to be + sisterly to a wigwam lady.” + </p> + <p> + “But I say, Mrs. Townley,” rejoined Lambert seriously, as he loitered at + the steps of her carriage, “I shouldn’t be surprised if my Lady Wigwam—a + rather apt and striking title, by the way—turned out better than we + think. She carried herself rippingly without the blanket, and I never saw + a more beautiful hand in my life—but one,” he added, as his fingers + at that moment closed on hers, and held them tightly, in spite of the + indignant little effort at withdrawal. “She may yet be able to give them + all points in dignity and that kind of thing, and pay Master Frank back in + his own coin. I do not see, after all, that he is the martyr.” + </p> + <p> + Lambert’s voice got softer, for he still held Mrs. Townley’s fingers, the + footman not having the matter in his eye,—and then he spoke still + more seriously on sentimental affairs of his own, in which he evidently + hoped she would take some interest. Indeed, it is hard to tell how far the + case might have been pushed if she had not suddenly looked a little + forbidding and imperious. For even people of no notable height, with soft + features, dark brown eyes, and a delightful little laugh, may appear + rather regal at times. Lambert did not quite understand why she should + take this attitude. If he had been as keen regarding his own affairs of + the affections as in the case of Frank Armour and his Indian bride, he had + known that every woman has in her mind the occasion when she should and + when she should not be wooed, and nothing disappoints her more than a + declaration at a time which is not her time. If it does not fall out as + she wishes it, retrospect, a dear thing to a woman, is spoiled. Many a man + has been sent to the right-about because he has ventured his proposal at + the wrong time. What would have occurred to Lambert it is hard to tell; + but he saw that something was wrong, and stopped in time. + </p> + <p> + When General Armour and his party reached Greyhope it was late in the + evening. The girl seemed tired and confused by the events of the day, and + did as she was directed, indifferently, limply. But when they entered the + gates of Greyhope and travelled up the long avenue of limes, she looked + round her somewhat eagerly, and drew a long sigh, maybe of relief or + pleasure. She presently stretched out a hand almost caressingly to the + thick trees and the grass, and said aloud: “Oh, the beautiful trees and + the long grass!” There was a whirr of birds’ wings among the branches, and + then, presently, there rose from a distance the sweet, gurgling whistle of + the nightingale. A smile as of reminiscence crossed her face. Then she + said, as if to herself: “It is the same. I shall not die. I hear the + birds’ wings, and one is singing. It is pleasant to sleep in the long + grass when the nights are summer, and to hang your cradle in the trees.” + </p> + <p> + She had asked for her own blanket, refusing a rug, when they left St. + Albans, and it had been given to her. She drew it about her now with a + feeling of comfort, and seemed to lose the horrible sense of strangeness + which had almost convulsed her when she was put into the carriage at the + railway station. Her reserve had hidden much of what she really felt; but + the drive through the limes had shown General Armour and his wife that + they had to do with a nature having capacities for sensitive feeling; + which, it is sometimes thought, is only the prerogative of certain + well-bred civilisations. + </p> + <p> + But it was impossible that they should yet, or for many a day, feel any + sense of kinship with this aboriginal girl. Presently the carriage drew up + to the doorway, which was instantly opened to them. A broad belt of light + streamed out upon the stone steps. Far back in the hall stood Marion, one + hand upon the balustrade of the staircase, the other tightly held at her + side, as if to nerve herself for the meeting. The eyes of the Indian girl + pierced the light, and, as if by a strange instinct, found those of + Marion, even before she left the carriage. Lali felt vaguely that here was + her possible enemy. As she stepped out of the carriage, General Armour’s + hand under her elbow to assist her, she drew her blanket something more + closely about her, and so proceeded up the steps. The composure of the + servants was, in the circumstances, remarkable. It needed to have been, + for the courage displayed by Lali’s two new guardians during the day + almost faltered at the threshold of their own home. Any sign of surprise + or amusement on the part of the domestics would have given them some + painful moments subsequently. But all was perfectly decorous. Marion still + stood motionless, almost dazed, The group advanced into the hall, and + there paused, as if waiting for her. + </p> + <p> + At that moment Richard came out of the study at her right hand, took her + arm, and said quietly: “Come along, Marion. Let us be as brave as our + father and mother.” + </p> + <p> + She gave a hard little gasp and seemed to awake as from a dream. She + quickly glided forwards ahead of him, kissed her mother and father almost + abruptly, then turned to the young wife with a scrutinising eye. “Marion,” + said her father, “this is your sister.” Marion stood hesitating, confused. + </p> + <p> + “Marion, dear,” repeated her mother ceremoniously, “this is your brother’s + wife.—Lali, this is your husband’s sister, Marion.” + </p> + <p> + Mackenzie translated the words swiftly to the girl, and her eyes flashed + wide. Then in a low voice she said in English: “Yes, Marion, How!” + </p> + <p> + It is probable that neither Marion nor any one present knew quite the + meaning of ‘How’, save Richard, and he could not suppress a smile, it + sounded so absurd and aboriginal. But at this exclamation Marion once more + came to herself. She could not possibly go so far as her mother did at the + dock and kiss this savage, but, with a rather sudden grasp of the hand, + she said, a little hysterically, for her brain was going round like a + wheel,—“Wo-won’t you let me take your blanket?” and forthwith laid + hold of it with tremulous politeness. + </p> + <p> + The question sounded, for the instant, so ludicrous to Richard that, in + spite of the distressing situation, he had to choke back a laugh. Years + afterwards, if he wished for any momentary revenge upon Marion (and he had + a keen sense of wordy retaliation), he simply said: “Wo-won’t you let me + take your blanket?” + </p> + <p> + Of course the Indian girl did not understand, but she submitted to the + removal of this uncommon mantle, and stood forth a less trying sight to + Marion’s eyes; for, as we said before, her buckskin costume set off softly + the good outlines of her form. + </p> + <p> + The Indian girl’s eyes wandered from Marion to Richard. They wandered from + anxiety, doubt, and a bitter kind of reserve, to cordiality, sympathy, and + a grave kind of humour. Instantly the girl knew that she had in eccentric + Richard Armour a frank friend. Unlike as he was to his brother, there was + still in their eyes the same friendliness and humanity. That is, it was + the same look that Frank carried when he first came to her father’s lodge. + </p> + <p> + Richard held out his hand with a cordial little laugh and said: “Ah, ah, + very glad, very glad! Just in time for supper. Come along. How is Frank, + eh? how is Frank? Just so; just so. Pleasant journey, I suppose?” He shook + her hand warmly three or four times, and, as he held it, placed his left + hand over it and patted it patriarchally, as was his custom with all the + children and all the old ladies that he knew. + </p> + <p> + “Richard,” said his mother, in a studiously neutral voice, “you might see + about the wine.” + </p> + <p> + Then Richard appeared to recover himself, and did as he was requested, but + not until his brother’s wife had said to him in English, as they + courteously drew her towards the staircase: “Oh, my brother Richard, How!” + </p> + <p> + But the first strain and suspense were now over for the family, and it is + probable that never had they felt such relief as when they sat down behind + closed doors in their own rooms for a short respite, while the Indian girl + was closeted alone with Mackenzie and a trusted maid, in what she called + her wigwam. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0005" id="link2HCH0005"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER V. AN AWKWARD HALF-HOUR + </h2> + <p> + It is just as well, perhaps, that the matter had become notorious. + Otherwise the Armours had lived in that unpleasant condition of being + constantly “discovered.” It was simply a case of aiming at absolute + secrecy, which had been frustrated by Frank himself, or bold and + unembarrassed acknowledgment and an attempt to carry things off with a + high hand. The latter course was the only one possible. It had originally + been Richard’s idea, appropriated by General Armour, and accepted by Mrs. + Armour and Marion with what grace was possible. The publication of the + event prepared their friends, and precluded the necessity for reserve. + What the friends did not know was whether they ought or ought not to + commiserate the Armours. It was a difficult position. A death, an + accident, a lost reputation, would have been easy to them; concerning + these there could be no doubt. But an Indian daughter-in-law, a person in + moccasins, was scarcely a thing to be congratulated upon; and yet sympathy + and consolation might be much misplaced; no one could tell how the Armours + would take it. For even their closest acquaintances knew what kind of + delicate hauteur was possible to them. Even the “‘centric” Richard, who + visited the cottages of the poor, carrying soup and luxuries of many + kinds, accompanying them with the most wholesome advice a single man ever + gave to families and the heads of families, whose laugh was so cheery and + spontaneous,—and face so uncommonly grave and sad at times,—had + a faculty for manner. With astonishing suddenness he could raise + insurmountable barriers; and people, not of his order, who occasionally + presumed on his simplicity of life and habits, found themselves put + distinctly ill at ease by a quiet, curious look in his eye. No man was + ever more the recluse and at the same time the man of the world. He had + had his bitter little comedy of life, but it was different from that of + his brother Frank. It was buried very deep; not one of his family knew of + it: Edward Lambert, and one or two others who had good reason never to + speak of it, were the only persons possessing his secret. + </p> + <p> + But all England knew of Frank’s mesalliance. And the question was, What + would people do? They very properly did nothing at first. They waited to + see how the Armours would act: they did not congratulate; they did not + console; that was left to those papers which chanced to resent General + Armour’s politics, and those others which were emotional and sensational + on every subject—particularly so where women were concerned. + </p> + <p> + It was the beginning of the season, but the Armours had decided that they + would not go to town. That is, the general and his wife were not going. + They felt that they ought to be at Greyhope with their daughter-in-law—which + was to their credit. Regarding Marion they had nothing to say. Mrs. Armour + inclined to her going to town for the season, to visit Mrs. Townley, who + had thoughtfully written to her, saying that she was very lonely, and + begging Mrs. Armour to let her come, if she would. She said that of course + Marion would see much of her people in town just the same. Mrs. Townley + was a very clever and tactful woman. + </p> + <p> + She guessed that General Armour and his wife were not likely to come to + town, but that must not appear, and the invitation should be on a + different basis—as it was. + </p> + <p> + It is probable that Marion saw through the delicate plot, but that did not + make her like Mrs. Townley less. These little pieces of art make life + possible, these tender fictions! + </p> + <p> + Marion was, however, not in good humour; she was nervous and a little + petulant. She had a high-strung temperament, a sensitive perception of the + fitness of things, and a horror of what was gauche; and she would, in + brief, make a rather austere person if the lines of life did not run in + her favour. She had something of Frank’s impulsiveness and temper; it + would have been a great blessing to her if she had had a portion of + Richard’s philosophical humour also. She was at a point of tension—her + mother and Richard could see that. She was anxious—though for the + world she would not have had it thought so—regarding Captain Vidall. + She had never cared for anybody but him; it was possible she never would. + But he did not know this, and she was not absolutely sure that his evident + but as yet informal love would stand this strain—which shows how + people very honourable and perfect-minded in themselves may allow a large + margin to other people who are presumably honourable and perfect-minded + also. There was no engagement between them, and he was not bound in any + way, and could, therefore, without slashing the hem of the code, retire + without any apology; but they had had that unspoken understanding which + most people who love each other show even before a word of declaration has + passed their lips. If he withdrew because of this scandal there might be + some awkward hours for Frank Armour’s wife at Greyhope; but, more than + that, there would be a very hard-hearted young lady to play her part in + the deceitful world; she would be as merciless as she could be. Naturally, + being young, she exaggerated the importance of the event, and brooded on + it. It was different with her father and mother. They were shocked and + indignant at first, but when the first scene had been faced they began to + make the best of things all round. That is, they proceeded at once to turn + the North American Indian into a European—a matter of no little + difficulty. A governess was discussed; but General Armour did not like the + idea, and Richard opposed it heartily. She must be taught English and + educated, and made possible in “Christian clothing,” as Mrs. Armour put + it. Of the education they almost despaired—all save Richard; time, + instruction, vanity, and a dressmaker might do much as to the other. + </p> + <p> + The evening of her arrival, Lali would not, with any urging, put on + clothes of Marion’s which had been sent in to her. And the next morning it + was still the same. + </p> + <p> + She came into the breakfast-room dressed still in buckskin and moccasins, + and though the grease had been taken out of her hair it was still combed + flat. Mrs. Armour had tried to influence her through Mackenzie, but to no + purpose. She was placidly stubborn. + </p> + <p> + It had been unwisely told her by Mackenzie that they were Marion’s + clothes. They scarcely took in the fact that the girl had pride, that she + was the daughter of a chief, and a chieftainess herself, and that it was + far from happy to offer her Marion’s clothes to wear. + </p> + <p> + Now, Richard, when he was a lad, had been on a journey to the South Seas, + and had learned some of the peculiarities of the native mind, and he did + not suppose that American Indians differed very much from certain + well-bred Polynesians in little matters of form and good taste. When his + mother told him what had occurred before Lali entered the breakfast-room, + he went directly to what he believed was the cause, and advised tact with + conciliation. He also pointed out that Lali was something taller than + Marion, and that she might be possessed of that general trait of + humanity-vanity. Mrs. Armour had not yet got used to thinking of the girl + in another manner than an intrusive being of a lower order, who was there + to try their patience, but also to do their bidding. She had yet to grasp + the fact that, being her son’s wife, she must have, therefore, a position + in the house, exercising a certain authority over the servants, who, to + Mrs. Armour, at first seemed of superior stuff. But Richard said to her: + “Mother, I fancy you don’t quite grasp the position. The girl is the + daughter of a chief, and the descendant of a family of chiefs, perhaps + through many generations. In her own land she has been used to respect, + and has been looked up to pretty generally. Her garments are, I fancy, + considered very smart in the Hudson’s Bay country; and a finely decorated + blanket like hers is expensive up there. You see, we have to take the + thing by comparison; so please give the girl a chance.” + </p> + <p> + And Mrs. Armour answered wearily, “I suppose you are right, Richard; you + generally are in the end, though why you should be I do not know, for you + never see anything of the world any more, and you moon about among the + cottagers. I suppose it’s your native sense and the books you read.” + </p> + <p> + Richard laughed softly, but there was a queer ring in the laugh, and he + came over stumblingly and put his arm round his mother’s shoulder. “Never + mind how I get such sense as I have, mother; I have so much time to think, + it would be a wonder if I hadn’t some. But I think we had better try to + study her, and coax her along, and not fob her off as a very inferior + person, or we shall have our hands full in earnest. My opinion is, she has + got that which will save her and us too—a very high spirit, which + only needs opportunity to develop into a remarkable thing; and, take my + word for it, mother, if we treat her as a chieftainess, or princess, or + whatever she is, and not simply as a dusky person, we shall come off + better and she will come off better in the long run. She is not darker + than a Spaniard, anyhow.” At this point Marion entered the room, and her + mother rehearsed briefly to her what their talk had been. Marion had had + little sleep, and she only lifted her eyebrows at them at first. She was + in little mood for conciliation. She remembered all at once that at supper + the evening before her sister-in-law had said How! to the butler, and had + eaten the mayonnaise with a dessert spoon. But presently, because she saw + they waited for her to speak, she said, with a little flutter of + maliciousness: “Wouldn’t it be well for Richard—he has plenty of + time, and we are also likely to have it now—to put us all through a + course of instruction for the training of chieftainesses? And when do you + think she will be ready for a drawing-room—Her Majesty Queen + Victoria’s, or ours?” + </p> + <p> + “Marion!” said Mrs. Armour severely; but Richard came round to her, and, + with his fresh, child-like humour, put his arm round her waist and added + “Marion, I’d be willing to bet—if I were in the habit of betting—my + shaky old pins here against a lock of your hair that you may present her + at any drawing-room—ours or Queen Victoria’s—in two years, if + we go at it right; and it would serve Master Frank very well if we turned + her out something, after all.” + </p> + <p> + To which Mrs. Armour responded almost eagerly: “I wish it were only + possible, Richard. And what you say is true, I suppose, that she is of + rank in her own country, whatever value that may have.” + </p> + <p> + Richard saw his advantage. “Well, mother,” he said, “a chieftainess is a + chieftainess, and I don’t know but to announce her as such, and—” + </p> + <p> + “And be proud of it, as it were,” put in Marion, “and pose her, and make + her a prize—a Pocahontas, wasn’t it?—and go on pretending + world without end!” Marion’s voice was still slightly grating, but there + was in it too a faint sound of hope. “Perhaps,” she said to herself, + “Richard is right.” + </p> + <p> + At this point the door opened and Lali entered, shown in by Colvin, her + newly-appointed maid, and followed by Mackenzie, and, as we said, dressed + still in her heathenish garments. She had a strong sense of dignity, for + she stood still and waited. Perhaps nothing could have impressed Marion + more. Had Lali been subservient simply, an entirely passive, unintelligent + creature, she would probably have tyrannised over her in a soft, + persistent fashion, and despised her generally. But Mrs. Armour and Marion + saw that this stranger might become very troublesome indeed, if her temper + were to have play. They were aware of capacities for passion in those dark + eyes, so musing yet so active in expression, which moved swiftly from one + object to another and then suddenly became resolute. + </p> + <p> + Both mother and daughter came forward, and held out their hands, wishing + her a pleasant good-morning, and were followed by Richard, and immediately + by General Armour, who had entered soon after her. She had been keen + enough to read (if a little vaguely) behind the scenes, and her mind was + wakening slowly to the peculiarity of the position she occupied. The place + awed her, and had broken her rest by perplexing her mind, and she sat down + to the breakfast-table with a strange hunted look in her face. But + opposite to her was a window opening to the ground, and beyond it were the + limes and beeches and a wide perfect sward and far away a little lake, on + which swans and wild fowl fluttered. Presently, as she sat silent, eating + little, her eyes lifted to the window. They flashed instantly, her face + lighted up with a weird kind of charm, and suddenly she got to her feet + with Indian exclamations on her lips, and, as if unconscious of them all, + went swiftly to the window and out of it, waving her hands up and down + once or twice to the trees and the sunlight. + </p> + <p> + “What did she say?” said Mrs. Armour, rising with the others. + </p> + <p> + “She said,” replied Mackenzie, as she hurried towards the window, “that + they were her beautiful woods, and there were wild birds flying and + swimming in the water, as in her own country.” + </p> + <p> + By this time all were at the window, Richard arriving last, and the Indian + girl turned on them, her body all quivering with excitement, laughed a + low, bird-like laugh, and then, clapping her hands above her head, she + swung round and ran like a deer towards the lake, shaking her head back as + an animal does when fleeing from his pursuers. She would scarcely have + been recognised as the same placid, speechless woman in a blanket who sat + with folded hands day after day on the Aphrodite. + </p> + <p> + The watchers turned and looked at each other in wonder. Truly, their task + of civilising a savage would not lack in interest. The old general was + better pleased, however, at this display of activity and excitement than + at yesterday’s taciturnity. He loved spirit, even if it had to be subdued, + and he thought on the instant that he might possibly come to look upon the + fair savage as an actual and not a nominal daughter-in-law. He had a keen + appreciation of courage, and he thought he saw in her face, as she turned + upon them, a look of defiance or daring, and nothing could have got at his + nature quicker. If the case had not been so near to his own hearthstone he + would have chuckled. As it was, he said good-humouredly that Mackenzie and + Marion should go and bring her back. But Mackenzie was already at that + duty. Mrs. Armour had had the presence of mind to send for Colvin; but + presently, when the general spoke, she thought it better that Marion + should go, and counselled returning to breakfast and not making the matter + of too much importance. This they did, Richard very reluctantly; while + Marion, rather pleased than not at the spirit shown by the strange girl, + ran away over the grass towards the lake, where Lali had now stopped. + There was a little bridge at one point where the lake narrowed, and Lali, + evidently seeing it all at once, went towards it, and ran up on it, + standing poised above the water about the middle of it. For an instant an + unpleasant possibility came into Marion’s mind: suppose the excited girl + intended suicide! She shivered as she thought of it, and yet—! She + put that horribly cruel and selfish thought away from her with an + indignant word at herself. She had passed Mackenzie, and came first to the + lake. Here she slackened, and waved her hand playfully to the girl, so as + not to frighten her; and then with a forced laugh came up panting on the + bridge, and was presently by Lali’s side. Lali eyed her a little + furtively, but, seeing that Marion was much inclined to be pleasant, she + nodded to her, said some Indian words hastily, and spread out her hands + towards the water. As she did so, Marion noticed again the beauty of those + hands and the graceful character of the gesture, so much so that she + forgot the flat hair and the unstayed body, and the rather broad feet, and + the delicate duskiness, which had so worked upon her in imagination and in + fact the evening before. She put her hand kindly on that long slim hand + stretched out beside her, and, because she knew not what else to speak, + and because the tongue is very perverse at times,—saying the + opposite of what is expected,—she herself blundered out, “How! How! + Lali.” + </p> + <p> + Perhaps Lali was as much surprised at the remark as Marion herself, and + certainly very much more delighted. The sound of those familiar words, + spoken by accident as they were, opened the way to a better understanding, + as nothing else could possibly have done. Marion was annoyed with herself, + and yet amused too. If her mind had been perfectly assured regarding + Captain Vidall, it is probable that then and there a peculiar, a genial, + comradeship would have been formed. As it was, Marion found this little + event more endurable than she expected. She also found that Lali, when she + laughed in pleasant acknowledgment of that How! had remarkably white and + regular teeth. Indeed, Marion Armour began to discover some estimable + points in the appearance of her savage sister-in-law. Marion remarked to + herself that Lali might be a rather striking person, if she were dressed, + as her mother said, in Christian garments, could speak the English + language well—and was somebody else’s sister-in-law. + </p> + <p> + At this point Mackenzie came breathlessly to the bridge, and called out a + little sharply to Lali, rebuking her. In this Mackenzie made a mistake; + for not only did Lali draw herself up with considerable dignity, but + Marion, noticing the masterful nature of the tone, instantly said: + “Mackenzie, you must remember that you are speaking to Mrs. Francis + Armour, and that her position in General Armour’s house is the same as + mine. I hope it is not necessary to say anything more, Mackenzie.” + </p> + <p> + Mackenzie flushed. She was a sensible woman, she knew that she had done + wrong, and she said very promptly: “I am very sorry, miss. I was + flustered, and I expect I haven’t got used to speaking to—to Mrs. + Armour as I’ll be sure to do in the future.” + </p> + <p> + As she spoke, two or three deer came trotting out of the beeches down to + the lake side. If Lali was pleased and excited before, she was overwhelmed + now. Her breath came in quick little gasps; she laughed; she tossed her + hands; she seemed to become dizzy with delight; and presently, as if this + new link with, and reminder of, her past, had moved her as one little + expects a savage heart to be moved, two tears gathered in her eyes, then + slid down her cheek unheeded, and dried there in the sunlight, as she + still gazed at the deer. Marion, at first surprised, was now touched, as + she could not have thought it possible concerning this wild creature, and + her hand went out and caught Lali’s gently. At this genuine act of + sympathy, instinctively felt by Lali, the stranger in a strange land, + husbanded and yet a widow, there came a flood of tears, and, dropping on + her knees, she leaned against the low railing of the bridge and wept + silently. So passionless was her grief it seemed the more pathetic, and + Marion dropped on her knees beside her, put her arm round her shoulder, + and said: “Poor girl! Poor girl!” + </p> + <p> + At that Lali caught her hand, and held it, repeating after her the words: + “Poor girl! Poor girl!” + </p> + <p> + She did not quite understand them, but she remembered that once just + before she parted from her husband at the Great Lakes he had said those + very words. If the fates had apparently given things into Frank Armour’s + hands when he sacrificed this girl to his revenge, they were evidently + inclined to play a game which would eventually defeat his purpose, wicked + as it had been in effect if not in absolute motive. What the end of this + attempt to engraft the Indian girl upon the strictest convention of + English social life would have been had her introduction not been at + Greyhope, where faint likenesses to her past surrounded her, it is hard to + conjecture. But, from present appearances, it would seem that Richard + Armour was not wholly a false prophet; for the savage had shown herself + that morning to possess, in their crudeness, some striking qualities of + character. Given character, many things are possible, even to those who + are not of the elect. + </p> + <p> + This was the beginning of better things. Lali seemed to the Armours not + quite so impossible now. Had she been of the very common order of Indian + “pure and simple,” the task had resolved itself into making a common + savage into a very common European. But, whatever Lali was, it was + abundantly evident that she must be reckoned with at all points, and that + she was more likely to become a very startling figure in the Armour + household than a mere encumbrance to be blushed for, whose eternal absence + were preferable to her company. + </p> + <p> + Years after that first morning Marion caught herself shuddering at the + thought that came to her when she saw Lali hovering on the bridge. + Whatever Marion’s faults were, she had a fine dislike of anything that + seemed unfair. She had not ridden to hounds for nothing. She had at heart + the sportsman’s instinct. It was upon this basis, indeed, that Richard + appealed to her in the first trying days of Lali’s life among them. To + oppose your will to Marion on the basis of superior knowledge was only to + turn her into a rebel; and a very effective rebel she made; for she had a + pretty gift at the retort courteous, and she could take as much, and as + well, as she gave. She rebelled at first at assisting in Lali’s education, + though by fits and starts she would teach her English words, and help her + to form long sentences, and was, on the whole, quite patient. But Lali’s + real instructors were Mrs. Armour and Richard—, her best, Richard. + </p> + <p> + The first few days she made but little progress, for everything was + strange to her, and things made her giddy—the servants, the formal + routine, the handsome furnishings, Marion’s music, the great house, the + many precise personal duties set for her, to be got through at stated + times; and Mrs. Armour’s rather grand manner. But there was the relief to + this, else the girl had pined terribly for her native woods and prairies; + this was the park, the deer, the lake, the hares, and birds. While she sat + saying over after Mrs. Armour words and phrases in English, or was being + shown how she must put on and wear the clothes which a dressmaker from + Regent Street had been brought to make, her eyes would wander dreamily to + the trees and the lake and the grass. They soon discovered that she would + pay no attention and was straightway difficult to teach if she was not + placed where she could look out on the park. They had no choice, for + though her resistance was never active it was nevertheless effective. + </p> + <p> + Presently she got on very swiftly with Richard. For he, with instinct + worthy of a woman, turned their lessons upon her own country and Frank. + This cost him something, but it had its reward. There was no more + listlessness. Previously Frank’s name had scarcely been spoken to her. + Mrs. Armour would have hours of hesitation and impotent regret before she + brought herself to speak of her son to his Indian wife. Marion tried to do + it a few times and failed; the general did it with rather a forced voice + and manner, because he saw that his wife was very tender upon the point. + But Richard, who never knew self-consciousness, spoke freely of Frank when + he spoke at all; and it was seeing Lali’s eyes brighten and her look + earnestly fixed on him when he chanced to mention Frank’s name, that + determined him on his new method of instruction. It had its dangers, but + he had calculated them all. The girl must be educated at all costs. The + sooner that occurred the sooner would she see her own position and try to + adapt herself to her responsibilities, and face the real state of her + husband’s attitude towards her. + </p> + <p> + He succeeded admirably. Striving to tell him about her past life, and + ready to talk endlessly about her husband, of his prowess in the hunt, of + his strength and beauty, she also strove to find English words for the + purpose, and Richard supplied them with uncommon willingness. He humoured + her so far as to learn many Indian words and phrases, but he was chary of + his use of them, and tried hard to make her appreciative of her new life + and surroundings. He watched her waking slowly to an understanding of the + life, and of all that it involved. It gave him a kind of fear, too, + because she was sensitive, and there was the possible danger of her + growing disheartened or desperate, and doing some mad thing in the hour + that she wakened to the secret behind her marriage. + </p> + <p> + His apprehensions were not without cause. For slowly there came into + Lali’s mind the element of comparison. She became conscious of it one day + when some neighbouring people called at Greyhope. Mrs. Armour, in her + sense of duty, which she had rigidly set before her, introduced Lali into + the drawing-room. The visitors veiled their curiosity and said some + pleasant casual things to the young wife, but she saw the half-curious, + half-furtive glances, she caught a sidelong glance and smile, and when + they were gone she took to looking at herself in a mirror, a thing she + could scarcely be persuaded to do before. She saw the difference between + her carriage and theirs, her manner of wearing her clothes and theirs, her + complexion and theirs. She exaggerated the difference. She brooded on it. + Now she sat downcast and timid, and hunted in face, as on the first + evening she came; now she appeared restless and excited. + </p> + <p> + If Mrs. Armour was not exactly sympathetic with her, she was quiet and + forbearing, and General Armour, like Richard, tried to draw her out—but + not on the same subjects. He dwelt upon what she did; the walks she took + in the park, those hours in the afternoon when, with Mackenzie or Colvin, + she vanished into the beeches, making friends with the birds and deer and + swans. But most of all she loved to go to the stables. She was, however, + asked not to go unless Richard or General Armour was with her. She loved + horses, and these were a wonder to her. She had never known any but the + wild, ungroomed Indian pony, on which she had ridden in every fashion and + over every kind of country. Mrs. Armour sent for a riding-master, and had + riding-costumes made for her. It was intended that she should ride every + day as soon as she seemed sufficiently presentable. This did not appear so + very far off, for she improved daily in appearance. Her hair was growing + finer, and was made up in the modest prevailing fashion; her skin, no + longer exposed to an inclement climate, and subject to the utmost care, + was smoother and fairer; her feet, encased in fine, well-made boots, + looked much smaller; her waist was shaped to fashion, and she was very + straight and lissom. So many things she did jarred on her relatives, that + they were not fully aware of the great improvement in her appearance. Even + Richard admitted her trying at times. + </p> + <p> + Marion went up to town to stay with Mrs. Townley, and there had to face a + good deal of curiosity. People looked at her sometimes as if it was she + and not Lali that was an Indian. But she carried things off bravely + enough, and answered those kind inquiries, which one’s friends make when + we are in embarrassing situations, with answers so calm and pleasant that + people did not know what to think. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” she said, in reply to Lady Balwood, “her sister-in-law might be in + town later in the year, perhaps before the season was over: she could not + tell. She was tired after her long voyage, and she preferred the quiet of + Greyhope; she was fond of riding and country-life; but still she would + come to town for a time.” And so on. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, dear me, how charming! And doesn’t she resent her husband’s absence—during + the honeymoon? or did the honeymoon occur before she came over to + England?” And Lady Balwood tried to say it all playfully, and certainly + said it something loudly. She had daughters. + </p> + <p> + But Marion was perfectly prepared. Her face did not change expression. + “Yes, they had had their honeymoon on the prairies; Frank was so + fascinated with the life and the people. He had not come home at once, + because he was making she did not know how great a fortune over there in + investments, and so Mrs. Armour came on before him, and, of course, as + soon as he could get away from his business, he would follow his wife.” + </p> + <p> + And though Marion smiled, her heart was very hot, and she could have slain + Lady Balwood in her tracks. Lady Balwood then nodded a little + patronisingly, and babbled that “she hoped so much to see Mrs. Francis + Armour. She must be so very interesting, the papers said so much about + her.” + </p> + <p> + Now, while this conversation was going on, some one stood not far behind + Marion, who seemed much interested in her and what she said. But Marion + did not see this person. She was startled presently, however, to hear a + strong voice say softly over her shoulder: “What a charming woman Lady + Balwood is! And so ingenuous!” + </p> + <p> + She was grateful, tremulous, proud. Why had he—Captain Vidall—kept + out of the way all these weeks, just when she needed him most, just when + he should have played the part of a man? Then she was feeling twinges at + the heart, too. She had seen Lady Agnes Martling that afternoon, and had + noticed how the news had worn on her. She felt how much better it had been + had Frank come quietly home and married her, instead of doing the wild, + scandalous thing that was making so many heart-burnings. A few minutes ago + she had longed for a chance to say something delicately acid to Lady + Haldwell, once Julia Sherwood, who was there. Now there was a chance to + give her bitter spirit tongue. She was glad—she dared not think how + glad—to hear that voice again; but she was angry too, and he should + suffer for it—the more so because she recognised in the tone, and + afterwards in his face, that he was still absorbingly interested in her. + There was a little burst of thanksgiving in her heart, and then she + prepared a very notable commination service in her mind. + </p> + <p> + This meeting had been deftly arranged by Mrs. Townley, with the help of + Edward Lambert, who now held her fingers with a kind of vanity of + possession whenever he bade her good-bye or met her. Captain Vidall had, + in fact, been out of the country, had only been back a week, and had only + heard of Frank Armour’s mesalliance from Lambert at an At Home forty-eight + hours before. Mrs. Townley guessed what was really at the bottom of + Marion’s occasional bitterness, and, piecing together many little things + dropped casually by her friend, had come to the conclusion that the + happiness of two people was at stake. + </p> + <p> + When Marion shook hands with Captain Vidall she had herself exceedingly + well under control. She looked at him in slight surprise, and casually + remarked that they had not chanced to meet lately in the run of + small-and-earlies. She appeared to be unconscious that he had been out of + the country, and also that she had been till very recently indeed at + Greyhope. He hastened to assure her that he had been away, and to lay + siege to this unexpected barrier. He knew all about Frank’s affair, and, + though it troubled him, he did not see why it should make any difference + in his regard for Frank’s sister. Fastidious as he was in all things, he + was fastidiously deferential. Not an exquisite, he had all that vanity as + to appearance so usual with the military man; himself of the most perfect + temper and sweetness of manner and conduct, the unusual disturbed him. Not + possessed of a vivid imagination, he could scarcely conjure up this Indian + bride at Greyhope. + </p> + <p> + But face to face with Marion Armour he saw what troubled his mind, and he + determined he would not meet her irony with irony, her assumed + indifference with indifference. He had learned one of the most important + lessons of life—never to quarrel with a woman. Whoever has so far + erred has been foolish indeed. It is the worst of policy, to say nothing + of its being the worst of art; and life should never be without art. It is + absurd to be perfectly natural; anything, anybody can be that. Well, + Captain Hume Vidall was something of an artist, more, however, in + principle than by temperament. He refused to recognise the rather + malicious adroitness with which Marion turned his remarks again upon + himself, twisted out of all semblance. He was very patient. He inquired + quietly, and as if honestly interested, about Frank, and said—because + he thought it safest as well as most reasonable—that, naturally, + they must have been surprised at his marrying a native; but he himself had + seen some such marriages turn out very well—in Japan, India, the + South Sea Islands, and Canada. He assumed that Marion’s sister-in-law was + beautiful, and then disarmed Marion by saying that he thought of going + down to Greyhope immediately, to call on General Armour and Mrs. Armour, + and wondered if she was going back before the end of the season. + </p> + <p> + Quick as Marion was, this was said so quietly that she did not quite see + the drift of it. She had intended staying in London to the end of the + season, not because she enjoyed it, but because she was determined to face + Frank’s marriage at every quarter, and have it over, once for all, so far + as herself was concerned. But now, taken slightly aback, she said, almost + without thinking, that she would probably go back soon—she was not + quite sure; but certainly her father and mother would be glad to see + Captain Vidall at any time. + </p> + <p> + Then, without any apparent relevancy, he asked her if Mrs. Frank Armour + still wore her Indian costume. In any one else the question had seemed + impertinent; in him it had a touch of confidence, of the privilege of + close friendship. Then he said, with a meditative look and a very calm, + retrospective voice, that he was once very much in love with a native girl + in India, and might have become permanently devoted to her, were it not + for the accident of his being ordered back to England summarily. + </p> + <p> + This was a piece of news which cut two ways. In the first place it + lessened the extraordinary character of Frank’s marriage, and it roused in + her an immediate curiosity—which a woman always feels in the past + “affairs” of her lover, or possible lover. Vidall did not take pains to + impress her with the fact that the matter occurred when he was almost a + boy; and it was when her earnest inquisition had drawn from him, bit by + bit, the circumstances of the case, and she had forgotten many parts of + her commination service and to preserve an effective neutrality in tone, + that she became aware he was speaking ancient history. Then it was too + late to draw back. + </p> + <p> + They had threaded their way through the crowd into the conservatory, where + they were quite alone, and there, with only a little pyramid of hydrangeas + between them, which she could not help but notice chimed well with the + colour of her dress, he dropped his voice a little lower, and then + suddenly said, his eyes hard on her: “I want your permission to go to + Greyhope.” + </p> + <p> + The tone drew her eyes hastily to his, and, seeing, she dropped them + again. Vidall had a strong will, and, what is of more consequence, a + peculiarly attractive voice. It had a vibration which made some of his + words organ-like in sound. She felt the influence of it. She said a little + faintly, her fingers toying with a hydrangea: “I am afraid I do not + understand. There is no reason why you should not go to Greyhope without + my permission.” + </p> + <p> + “I cannot go without it,” he persisted. “I am waiting for my commission + from you.” + </p> + <p> + She dropped her hand from the flower with a little impatient motion. She + was tired, her head ached, she wanted to be alone. “Why are you + enigmatical?” she said. Then quickly: “I wish I knew what is in your mind. + You play with words so.” + </p> + <p> + She scarcely knew what she said. A woman who loves a man very much is not + quick to take in the absolute declaration of that man’s love on the + instant; it is too wonderful for her. He felt his check flush with hers, + he drew her look again to his. “Marion! Marion!” he said. That was all. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, hush, some one is coming!” was her quick, throbbing reply. When they + parted a half-hour later, he said to her: “Will you give me my commission + to go to Greyhope?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh no, I cannot,” she said very gravely; “but come to Greyhope-when I go + back.” + </p> + <p> + “And when will that be?” he said, smiling, yet a little ruefully too. + </p> + <p> + “Please ask Mrs. Townley,” she replied; “she is coming also.” + </p> + <p> + Marion, knew what that commission to go to Greyhope meant. But she + determined that he should see Lali first, before anything irrevocable was + done. She still looked upon Frank’s marriage as a scandal. Well, Captain + Vidall should face it in all its crudeness. So, in a week or less, Marion + and Mrs. Townley were in Greyhope. + </p> + <p> + Two months had gone since Lali arrived in England, and yet no letter had + come to her, or to any of them, from Frank. Frank’s solicitor in London + had written him fully of her arrival, and he had had a reply, with further + instructions regarding money to be placed to General Armour’s credit for + the benefit of his wife. Lali, as she became Europeanised, also awoke to + the forms and ceremonies of her new life. She had overheard Frank’s father + and mother wondering, and fretting as they wondered, why they had not + received any word from him. General Armour had even called him a + scoundrel, which sent Frank’s mother into tears. Then Lali had questioned + Mackenzie and Colvin, for she had increasing shrewdness, and she began to + feel her actual position. She resented General Armour’s imputation, but in + her heart she began to pine and wonder. At times, too, she was fitful, and + was not to be drawn out. But she went on improving in personal appearance + and manner and in learning the English language. Mrs. Townley’s appearance + marked a change in her. When they met she suddenly stood still and + trembled. When Mrs. Townley came to her and took her hand and kissed her, + she shivered, and then caught her about the shoulders lightly, but was + silent. After a little she said: “Come—come to my wigwam, and talk + with me.” + </p> + <p> + She said it with a strange little smile, for now she recognised that the + word wigwam was not to be used in her new life. But Mrs. Townley + whispered: “Ask Marion to come too.” + </p> + <p> + Lali hesitated, and then said, a little maliciously: “Marion, will you + come to my wigwam?” + </p> + <p> + Marion ran to her, caught her about the waist, and replied gaily: “Yes, we + will have a pow-wow—is that right—is pow-wow right?” + </p> + <p> + The Indian girl shook her head with a pretty vagueness, and vanished with + them. General Armour walked up and down the room briskly, then turned on + his wife and said: “Wife, it was a brutal thing: Frank doesn’t deserve to + be—the father of her child.” + </p> + <p> + But Lali had moods—singular moods. She indulged in one three days + after the arrival of Marion and Mrs. Townley. She had learned to ride with + the side-saddle, and wore her riding-dress admirably. Nowhere did she show + to better advantage. She had taken to riding now with General Armour on + the country roads. On this day Captain Vidall was expected, he having + written to ask that he might come. What trouble Lali had with one of the + servants that morning was never thoroughly explained, but certain it is, + she came to have a crude notion of why Frank Armour married her. The + servant was dismissed duly, but that was after the contre-temps. + </p> + <p> + It was late afternoon. Everybody had been busy, because one or two other + guests were expected besides Captain Vidall. Lali had kept to herself, + sending word through Richard that she would not “be English,” as she + vaguely put it, that day. She had sent Mackenzie on some mission. She sat + on the floor of her room, as she used to sit on the ground in her father’s + lodge. Her head was bowed in her hands, and her arms rested on her knees. + Her body swayed to and fro. Presently all motion ceased. She became + perfectly still. She looked before her as if studying something. + </p> + <p> + Her eyes immediately flashed. She rose quickly to her feet, went to her + wardrobe, and took out her Indian costume and blanket, with which she + could never be induced to part. Almost feverishly she took off the clothes + she wore and hastily threw them from her. Then she put on the buckskin + clothes in which she had journeyed to England, drew down her hair as she + used to wear it, fastened round her waist a long red sash which had been + given her by a governor of the Hudson’s Bay Company when he had visited + her father’s country, threw her blanket round her shoulders, and then eyed + herself in the great mirror in the room. What she saw evidently did not + please her perfectly, for she stretched out her hands and looked at them; + she shook her head at herself and put her hand to her cheeks and pinched + them, they were not so brown as they once were, then she thrust out her + foot. She drew it back quickly in disdain. Immediately she caught the + fashionable slippers from her feet and threw them among the discarded + garments. She looked at herself again. Still she was not satisfied, but + she threw up her arms, as with a sense of pleasure and freedom, and + laughed at herself. She pushed out her moccasined foot, tapped the floor + with it, nodded towards it, and said a word or two in her own language. + She heard some one in the next room, possibly Mackenzie. She stepped to + the door leading into the hall, opened it, went out, travelled its length, + ran down a back hallway, out into the park, towards the stables, her + blanket, as her hair, flying behind her. + </p> + <p> + She entered the stables, made for a horse that she had ridden much, put a + bridle on him, led him out before any one had seen her, and, catching him + by the mane, suddenly threw herself on him at a bound, and, giving him a + tap with a short whip she had caught up in the stable, headed him for the + main avenue and the open road. Then a stableman saw her and ran after, but + he might as well have tried to follow the wind. He forthwith proceeded to + saddle another horse. Boulter also saw her as she passed the house, and, + running in, told Mrs. Armour and the general. They both ran to the window + and saw dashing down the avenue—a picture out of Fenimore Cooper; a + saddleless horse with a rider whose fingers merely touched the bridle, + riding as on a journey of life and death. + </p> + <p> + “My God, it’s Lali! She’s mad—she’s mad! She is striking that horse! + It will bolt! It will kill her!” cried the general. + </p> + <p> + Then he rushed for a horse to follow her. Mrs. Armour’s hands clasped + painfully. For an instant she had almost the same thought as had Marion on + the first morning of Lali’s coming; but that passed, and left her gazing + helplessly after the horse-woman. The flying blanket had frightened the + blooded horse, and he made desperate efforts to fulfil the general’s + predictions. + </p> + <p> + Lali soon found that she had miscalculated. She was not riding an Indian + pony, but a crazed, high-strung horse. As they flew, she sitting superbly + and tugging at the bridle, the party coming from the railway station + entered the great gate, accompanied by Richard and Marion. In a moment + they sighted this wild pair bearing down upon them with a terrible + swiftness. + </p> + <p> + As Marion recognised Lali she turned pale and cried out, rising in her + seat. Instinctively Captain Vidall knew who it was, though he could not + guess the cause of the singular circumstance. He saw that the horse had + bolted, but also that the rider seemed entirely fearless. “Why, in + Heaven’s name,” he said between his teeth, “doesn’t she let go that + blanket!” + </p> + <p> + At that moment Lali did let it go, and the horse dashed by them, making + hard for the gate. “Turn the horses round and follow her,” said Vidall to + the driver. While this was doing, Marion caught sight of her father riding + hard down the avenue. He passed them, and called to them to hurry on after + him. + </p> + <p> + Lali had not the slightest sense of fear, but she knew that the horse had + gone mad. When they passed through the gate and swerved into the road, a + less practised rider would have been thrown. She sat like wax. The pace + was incredible for a mile, and though General Armour rode well, he was far + behind. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly a trap appeared in the road in front of them, and the driver, + seeing the runaway, set his horses at right angles to the road. It served + the purpose only to provide another danger. Not far from where the trap + was drawn, and between it and the runaway, was a lane, which ended at a + farmyard in a cul-de-sac. The horse swerved into it, not slacking its + pace, and in the fraction of a minute came to the farmyard. + </p> + <p> + But now the fever was in Lali’s blood. She did not care whether she lived + or died. A high hedge formed the cul-de-sac. When she saw the horse + slacking she cut it savagely across the head twice with a whip, and drove + him at the green wall. He was of too good make to refuse it, stiff as it + was. He rose to it magnificently, and cleared it; but almost as he struck + the ground squarely, he staggered and fell—the girl beneath him. He + had burst a blood-vessel. The ground was soft and wet; the weight of the + horse prevented her from getting free. She felt its hoof striking in its + death-struggles, and once her shoulder was struck. Instinctively she + buried her face in the mud, and her arms covered her head. + </p> + <p> + And then she knew no more. + </p> + <p> + When she came to, she was in the carriage within the gates of Greyhope, + and Marion was bending over her. She suddenly tried to lift herself, but + could not. Presently she saw another face—that of General Armour. It + was stern, and yet his eyes were swimming as he looked at her. + </p> + <p> + “How!” she said to him—“How!” and fainted again. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0006" id="link2HCH0006"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VI. THE PASSING OF THE YEARS + </h2> + <p> + Lali’s recovery was not rapid. A change had come upon her. With that + strange ride had gone the last strong flicker of the desire for savage + life in her. She knew now the position she held towards her husband: that + he had never loved her; that she was only an instrument for unworthy + retaliation. So soon as she could speak after her accident, she told them + that they must not write to him and tell him of it. She also made them + promise that they would give him no news of her at all, save that she was + well. They could not refuse to promise; they felt she had the right to + demand much more than that. They had begun to care for her for herself, + and when the months went by, and one day there was a hush about her room, + and anxiety, and then relief, in the faces of all, they came to care for + her still more for the sake of her child. + </p> + <p> + As the weeks passed, the fair-haired child grew more and more like his + father; but if Lali thought of her husband they never knew it by anything + she said, for she would not speak of him. She also made them promise that + they would not write to him of the child’s birth. Richard, with his sense + of justice, and knowing how much the woman had been wronged, said that in + all this she had done quite right; that Frank, if he had done his duty + after marrying her, should have come with her. And because they all felt + that Richard had been her best friend as well as their own, they called + the child after him. This also was Lali’s wish. Coincident with her + motherhood there came to Lali a new purpose. She had not lived with the + Armours without absorbing some of their fine social sense and dignity. + This, added to the native instinct of pride in her, gave her a new + ambition. As hour by hour her child grew dear to her, so hour by hour her + husband grew away from her. She schooled herself against him.—At + times she thought she hated him. She felt she could never forgive him, but + she would prove to him that it was she who had made the mistake of her + life in marrying him; that she had been wronged, not he; and that his sin + would face him with reproach and punishment one day. Richard’s prophecy + was likely to come true: she would defeat very perfectly indeed Frank’s + intentions. After the child was born, so soon as she was able, she renewed + her studies with Richard and Mrs. Armour. She read every morning for + hours; she rode; she practised all those graceful arts of the toilet which + belong to the social convention; she showed an unexpected faculty for + singing, and practised it faithfully; and she begged Mrs. Armour and + Marion to correct her at every point where correction seemed necessary. + When the child was two years old, they all went to London, something + against Lali’s personal feelings, but quite in accord with what she felt + her duty. + </p> + <p> + Richard was left behind at Greyhope. For the first time in eighteen months + he was alone with his old quiet duties and recreations. During that time + he had not neglected his pensioners,—his poor, sick, halt, and + blind, but a deeper, larger interest had come into his life in the person + of Lali. During all that time she had seldom been out of his sight, never + out of his influence and tutelage. His days had been full, his every hour + had been given a keen, responsible interest. As if by tacit consent, every + incident or development of Lali’s life was influenced by his judgment and + decision. He had been more to her than General Armour, Mrs. Armour, or + Marion. Schooled as he was in all the ways of the world, he had at the + same time a mind as sensitive as a woman’s, an indescribable gentleness, a + persuasive temperament. Since, years before, he had withdrawn from the + social world and become a recluse, many of his finer qualities had gone + into an indulgent seclusion. He had once loved the world and the gay life + of London, but some untoward event, coupled with a radical love of + retirement, had sent him into years of isolation at Greyhope. + </p> + <p> + His tutelar relations with Lali had reopened many an old spring of + sensation and experience. Her shy dependency, her innocent + inquisitiveness, had searched out his remotest sympathies. In teaching her + he had himself been re-taught. Before she came he had been satisfied with + the quiet usefulness and studious ease of his life. But in her presence + something of his old youthfulness came back, some reflection of the ardent + hopes of his young manhood. He did not notice the change in himself. He + only knew that his life was very full. He read later at nights, he rose + earlier in the morning. But unconsciously to himself, he was undergoing a + change. The more a man’s sympathies and emotions are active, the less is + he the philosopher. It is only when one has withdrawn from the more + personal influence of the emotions that one’s philosophy may be trusted. + One may be interested in mankind and still be philosophical—may be, + as it were, the priest and confessor to all comers. But let one be touched + in some vital corner in one’s nature, and the high, faultless impartiality + is gone. In proportion as Richard’s interest in Lali had grown, the + universal quality of his sympathy had declined. Man is only man. Not that + his benefactions as lord-bountiful in the parish had grown perfunctory, + but the calm detail of his interest was not so definite. He was the same, + yet not the same. + </p> + <p> + He was not aware of any difference in himself. He did not know that he + looked younger by ten years. Such is the effect of mere personal sympathy + upon a man’s look and bearing. When, therefore, one bright May morning, + the family at Greyhope, himself excluded, was ready to start for London, + he had no thought but that he would drop back into his old silent life, as + it was before Lali came, and his brother’s child was born. He was not + conscious that he was very restless that morning; he scarcely was aware + that he had got up two hours earlier than usual. At the breakfast-table he + was cheerful and alert. After breakfast he amused himself in playing with + the child till the carriage was brought round. It was such a morning as + does not come a dozen times a year in England. The sweet, moist air blew + from the meadows and up through the lime trees with a warm, insinuating + gladness. The lawn sloped delightfully away to the flowered embrasures of + the park, and a fragrant abundance of flowers met the eye and cheered the + senses. While Richard loitered on the steps with the child and its nurse, + more excited than he knew, Lali came out and stood beside him. At the + moment Richard was looking into the distance. He did not hear her when she + came. She stood near him for a moment, and did not speak. Her eyes + followed the direction of his look, and idled tenderly with the prospect + before her. She did not even notice the child. The same thought was in the + mind of both—with a difference. Richard was wondering how any one + could choose to change the sweet dignity of that rural life for the + flaring, hurried delights of London and the season. He had thought this a + thousand times, and yet, though he would have been little willing to + acknowledge it, his conviction was not so impregnable as it had been. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Francis Armour was stepping from the known to the unknown. She was + leaving the precincts of a life in which, socially, she had been born + again. Its sweetness and benign quietness had all worked upon her nature + and origin to change her. In that it was an out-door life, full of + freshness and open-air vigour, it was not antagonistic to her past. Upon + this sympathetic basis had been imposed the conditions of a fine social + decorum. The conditions must still exist. But how would it be when she was + withdrawn from this peaceful activity of nature and set down among “those + garish lights” in Cavendish Square and Piccadilly? She hardly knew to what + she was going as yet. There had been a few social functions at Greyhope + since she had come, but that could give her, after all, but little idea of + the swing and pressure of London life. + </p> + <p> + At this moment she was lingering over the scene before her. She was + wondering with the naive wonder of an awakened mind. She had intended many + times of late saying to Richard all the native gratitude she felt; yet + somehow she had never been able to say it. The moment of parting had come. + </p> + <p> + “What are you thinking of, Richard?” she said now. He started and turned + towards her. + </p> + <p> + “I hardly know,” he answered. “My thoughts were drifting.” + </p> + <p> + “Richard,” she said abruptly, “I want to thank you.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank me for what, Lali?” he questioned. + </p> + <p> + “To thank you, Richard, for everything—since I came, over three + years ago.” + </p> + <p> + He broke out into a soft little laugh, then, with his old good-natured + manner, caught her hand as he did the first night she came to Greyhope, + patted it in a fatherly fashion, and said: + </p> + <p> + “It is the wrong way about, Lali; I ought to be thanking you, not you me. + Why, look what a stupid old fogy I was then, toddling about the place with + too much time on my hands, reading a lot and forgetting everything; and + here you came in, gave me something to do, made the little I know of any + use, and ran a pretty gold wire down the rusty fiddle of life. If there + are any speeches of gratitude to be made, they are mine, they are mine.” + </p> + <p> + “Richard,” she said very quietly and gravely, “I owe you more than I can + ever say—in English. You have taught me to speak in your tongue + enough for all the usual things of life, but one can only speak from the + depths of one’s heart in one’s native tongue. And see,” she added, with a + painful little smile, “how strange it would sound if I were to tell you + all I thought in the language of my people—of my people, whom I + shall never see again. Richard, can you understand what it must be to have + a father whom one is never likely to see again—whom, if one did see + again, something painful would happen? We grow away from people against + our will; we feel the same towards them, but they cannot feel the same + towards us; for their world is in another hemisphere. We want to love + them, and we love, remember, and are glad to meet them again, but they + feel that we are unfamiliar, and, because we have grown different + outwardly, they seem to miss some chord that used to ring. Richard, I—I—” + She paused. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Lali,” he assented—“yes, I understand you so far; but speak + out.” + </p> + <p> + “I am not happy,” she said. “I never shall be happy. I have my child, and + that is all I have. I cannot go back to the life in which I was born; I + must go on as I am, a stranger among a strange people, pitied, suffered, + cared for a little—and that is all.” + </p> + <p> + The nurse had drawn away a little distance with the child. The rest of the + family were making their preparations inside the house. There was no one + near to watch the singular little drama. + </p> + <p> + “You should not say that,” he added; “we all feel you to be one of us.” + </p> + <p> + “But all your world does not feel me to be one of them,” she rejoined. + </p> + <p> + “We shall see about that when you go up to town. You are a bit morbid, + Lali. I don’t wonder at your feeling a little shy; but then you will + simply carry things before you—now you take my word for it! For I + know London pretty well.” + </p> + <p> + She held out her ungloved hands. + </p> + <p> + “Do they compare with the white hands of the ladies you know?” she said. + </p> + <p> + “They are about the finest hands I have ever seen,” he replied. “You can’t + see yourself, sister of mine.” + </p> + <p> + “I do not care very much to see myself,” she said. “If I had not a maid I + expect I should look very shiftless, for I don’t care to look in a mirror. + My only mirror used to be a stream of water in summer,” she added, “and a + corner of a looking-glass got from the Hudson’s Bay fort in the winter.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, you are missing a lot of enjoyment,” he said, “if you do not use + your mirror much. The rest of us can appreciate what you would see there.” + </p> + <p> + She reached out and touched his arm. + </p> + <p> + “Do you like to look at me?” she questioned, with a strange simple + candour. + </p> + <p> + For the first time in many a year, Richard Armour blushed like a girl + fresh from school. The question had come so suddenly, it had gone so + quickly into a sensitive corner of his nature, that he lost command of + himself for the instant, yet had little idea why the command was lost. He + touched the fingers on his arm affectionately. + </p> + <p> + “Like to look at you—like to look at you? Why, of course we all like + to look at you. You are very fine and handsome and interesting.” + </p> + <p> + “Richard,” she said, drawing her hands away, “is that why you like to look + at me?” + </p> + <p> + He had recovered himself. He laughed in his old hearty way, and said: + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes; why, of course! Come, let us go and see the boy,” he added, + taking her arm and hurrying her down the steps. “Come and let us see + Richard Joseph, the pride of all the Armours.” + </p> + <p> + She moved beside him in a kind of dream. She had learned much since she + came to Greyhope, and yet she could not at that moment have told exactly + why she asked Richard the question that had confused him, nor did she know + quite what lay behind the question. But every problem which has life works + itself out to its appointed end, if fumbling human fingers do not meddle + with it. Half the miseries of this world are caused by forcing issues, in + every problem of the affections, the emotions, and the soul. There is a + law working with which there should be no tampering, lest in foolish + interruption come only confusion and disaster. Against every such question + there should be written the one word, “Wait.” + </p> + <p> + Richard Armour stooped over the child. “A beauty,” he said, “a perfect + little gentleman. Like Richard Joseph Armour there is none,” he added. + </p> + <p> + “Whom do you think he looks like, Richard?” she asked. This was a question + she had never asked before since the child was born. Whom the child looked + like every one knew; but within the past year and a half Francis Armour’s + name had seldom been mentioned, and never in connection with the child. + The child’s mother asked the question with a strange quietness. Richard + answered it without hesitation. + </p> + <p> + “The child looks like Frank,” he said. “As like him as can be.” + </p> + <p> + “I am glad,” she said, “for all your sakes.” + </p> + <p> + “You are very deep this morning, Lali,” Richard said, with a kind of + helplessness. “Frank will be pretty proud of the youngster when he comes + back. But he won’t be prouder of him than I am.” + </p> + <p> + “I know that,” she said. “Won’t you be lonely without the boy—and + me, Richard?” + </p> + <p> + Again the question went home. “Lonely? I should think I would,” he said. + “I should think I would. But then, you see, school is over, and the master + stays behind and makes up the marks. You will find London a jollier master + than I am, Lali. There’ll be lots of shows, and plenty to do, and smart + frocks, and no end of feeds and frolics; and that is more amusing than + studying three hours a day with a dry old stick like me. I tell you what, + when Frank comes—” + </p> + <p> + She interrupted him. “Do not speak of that,” she said. Then, with a sudden + burst of feeling, though her words were scarcely audible: “I owe you + everything, Richard—everything that is good. I owe him nothing, + Richard—nothing but what is bitter.” + </p> + <p> + “Hush, hush,” he said; “you must not speak that way. Lali, I want to say + to you—” + </p> + <p> + At that moment General Armour, Mrs. Armour, and Marion appeared on the + door-step, and the carriage came wheeling up the drive. What Richard + intended to say was left unsaid. The chances were it never would be said. + </p> + <p> + “Well, well,” said General Armour, calling down at them, “escort his + imperial highness to the chariot which awaits him, and then ho! for London + town. Come along, my daughter,” he said to Lali; “come up here and take + the last whiff of Greyhope that you will have for six months. Dear, dear, + what lunatics we all are, to be sure! Why, we’re as happy as little birds + in their nests out in the decent country, and yet we scamper off to a + smoky old city by the Thames to rush along with the world, instead of + sitting high and far away from it and watching it go by. God bless my + soul, I’m old enough to know better! Well, let me help you in, my dear,” + he added to his wife; “and in you go, Marion; and in you go, your imperial + highness”—he passed the child awkwardly in to Marion; “and in you + go, my daughter,” he added, as he handed Lali in, pressing her hand with a + brusque fatherliness as he did so. He then got in after them. + </p> + <p> + Richard came to the side of the carriage and bade them all good-bye one by + one. Lali gave him her hand, but did not speak a word. He called a + cheerful adieu, the horses were whipped up, and in a moment Richard was + left alone on the steps of the house. He stood for a time looking, then he + turned to go into the house, but changed his mind, sat down, lit a cigar, + and did not move from his seat until he was summoned to his lonely + luncheon. + </p> + <p> + Nobody thought much of leaving Richard behind at Greyhope. It seemed the + natural thing to do. But still he had not been left alone—entirely + alone—for three years or more. + </p> + <p> + The days and weeks went on. If Richard had been accounted eccentric + before, there was far greater cause for the term now. Life dragged. Too + much had been taken out of his life all at once; for, in the first place, + the family had been drawn together more during the trouble which Lali’s + advent had brought; then the child and its mother, his pupil, were gone + also. He wandered about in a kind of vague unrest. The hardest thing in + this world to get used to is the absence of a familiar footstep and the + cheerful greeting of a familiar eye. And the man with no chick or child + feels even the absence of his dog from the hearth-rug when he returns from + a journey or his day’s work. It gives him a sense of strangeness and loss. + But when it is the voice of a woman and the hand of a child that is + missed, you can back no speculation upon that man’s mood or mind or + conduct. There is no influence like the influence of habit, and that is + how, when the minds of people are at one, physical distances and + differences, no matter how great, are invisible, or at least not obvious. + </p> + <p> + Richard Armour was a sensible man; but when one morning he suddenly packed + a portmanteau and went up to town to Cavendish Square, the act might be + considered from two sides of the equation. If he came back to enter again + into the social life which, for so many years, he had abjured, it was not + very sensible, because the world never welcomes its deserters; it might, + if men and women grew younger instead of older. If he came to see his + family, or because he hungered for his godchild, or because—but we + are hurrying the situation. It were wiser not to state the problem yet. + The afternoon that he arrived at Cavendish Square all his family were out + except his brother’s wife. Lali was in the drawing-room, receiving a + visitor who had asked for Mrs. Armour and Mrs. Francis Armour. The visitor + was received by Mrs. Francis Armour. The visitor knew that Mrs. Armour was + not at home. She had by chance seen her and Marion in Bond Street, and was + not seen by them. She straightway got into her carriage and drove up to + Cavendish Square, hoping to find Mrs. Francis Armour at home. There had + been house-parties at Greyhope since Lali had come there to live, but this + visitor, though once an intimate friend of the family, had never been a + guest. + </p> + <p> + The visitor was Lady Haldwell, once Miss Julia Sherwood, who had made + possible what was called Francis Armour’s tragedy. Since Lali had come to + town Lady Haldwell had seen her, but had never met her. She was not at + heart wicked, but there are few women who can resist an opportunity of + anatomising and reckoning up the merits and demerits of a woman who has + married an old lover. When that woman is in the position of Lali, the + situation has an unusual piquancy and interest. Hence Lady Haldwell’s + journey of inquisition to Cavendish Square. + </p> + <p> + As Richard passed the drawing-room door to ascend the stairs, he + recognised the voices. + </p> + <p> + Once a sort of heathen, as Mrs. Francis Armour had been, she still could + grasp the situation with considerable clearness. There is nothing keener + than one woman’s instinct regarding another woman, where a man is + concerned. Mrs. Francis Armour received Lady Haldwell with a quiet + stateliness, which, if it did not astonish her, gave her sufficient + warning that matters were not, in this little comedy, to be all her own + way. + </p> + <p> + Thrown upon the mere resources of wit and language, Mrs. Francis Armour + must have been at a disadvantage. For Lady Haldwell had a good gift of + speech, a pretty talent for epithet, and no unnecessary tenderness. She + bore Lali no malice. She was too decorous and high for that. In her mind + the wife of the man she had discarded was a mere commonplace catastrophe, + to be viewed without horror, maybe with pity. She had heard the alien + spoken well of by some people; others had seemed indignant that the + Armours should try to push “a red woman” into English society. Truth is, + the Armours did not try at all to push her. For over three years they had + let society talk. They had not entertained largely in Cavendish Square + since Lali came, and those invited to Greyhope had a chance to refuse the + invitations if they chose. Most people did not choose to decline them. But + Lady Haldwell was not of that number. She had never been invited. But now + in town, when entertainment must be more general, she and the Armours were + prepared for social interchange. + </p> + <p> + Behind Lady Haldwell’s visit curiosity chiefly ran. She was in a way sorry + for Frank Armour, for she had been fond of him after a fashion, always + fonder of him than of Lord Haldwell. She had married with her fingers + holding the scales of advantage; and Lord Haldwell dressed well, was + immensely rich, and the title had a charm. + </p> + <p> + When Mrs. Francis Armour met her with her strange, impressive dignity, she + was the slightest bit confused, but not outwardly. She had not expected + it. At first Lali did not know who her visitor was. She had not caught the + name distinctly from the servant. + </p> + <p> + Presently Lady Haldwell said, as Lali gave her hand “I am Lady Haldwell. + As Miss Sherwood I was an old friend of your husband.” + </p> + <p> + A scornful glitter came into Mrs. Armour’s eyes—a peculiar touch of + burnished gold, an effect of the light at a certain angle of the lens. It + gave for the instant an uncanny look to the face, almost something + malicious. She guessed why this woman had come. She knew the whole history + of the past, and it touched her in a tender spot. She knew she was had at + an advantage. Before her was a woman perfectly trained in the fine social + life to which she was born, whose equanimity was as regular as her + features. Herself was by nature a creature of impulse, of the woods and + streams and open life. The social convention had been engrafted. As yet + she was used to thinking and speaking with all candour. She was to have + her training in the charms of superficiality, but that was to come; and + when it came she would not be an unskilful apprentice. Perhaps the latent + subtlety of her race came to help her natural candour at the moment. For + she said at once, in a slow, quiet tone: + </p> + <p> + “I never heard my husband speak of you. Will you sit down?” + </p> + <p> + “And Mrs. Armour and Marion are not in? No, I suppose your husband did not + speak much of his old friends.” + </p> + <p> + The attack was studied and cruel. But Lady Haldwell had been stung by Mrs. + Armour’s remark, and it piqued her that this was possible. + </p> + <p> + “Well, yes, he spoke of some of his friends, but not of you.” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed! That is strange.” + </p> + <p> + “There was no necessity,” said Mrs. Armour quietly. + </p> + <p> + “Of discussing me? I suppose not. But by some chance—” + </p> + <p> + “It was just as well, perhaps, not to anticipate the pleasure of our + meeting.” + </p> + <p> + Lady Haldwell was surprised. She had not expected this cleverness. They + talked casually for a little time, the visitor trying in vain to + delicately give the conversation a personal turn. At last, a little + foolishly, she grew bolder, with a needless selfishness. + </p> + <p> + “So old a friend of your husband as I am, I am hopeful you and I may be + friends also.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Armour saw the move. + </p> + <p> + “You are very kind,” she said conventionally, and offered a cup of tea. + </p> + <p> + Lady Haldwell now ventured unwisely. She was nettled at the other’s + self-possession. + </p> + <p> + “But then, in a way, I have been your friend for a long time, Mrs. + Armour.” + </p> + <p> + The point was veiled in a vague tone, but Mrs. Armour understood. Her + reply was not wanting. “Any one who has been a friend to my husband has, + naturally, claims upon me.” + </p> + <p> + Lady Haldwell, in spite of herself, chafed. There was a subtlety in the + woman before her not to be reckoned with lightly. + </p> + <p> + “And if an enemy?” she said, smiling. + </p> + <p> + A strange smile also flickered across Mrs. Armour’s face as she said: + </p> + <p> + “If an enemy of my husband called, and was penitent, I should—offer + her tea, no doubt.” + </p> + <p> + “That is, in this country; but in your own country, which, I believe, is + different, what would you do?” Mrs. Armour looked steadily and coldly into + her visitor’s eyes. + </p> + <p> + “In my country enemies do not compel us to be polite.” + </p> + <p> + “By calling on you?” Lady Haldwell was growing a little reckless. “But + then, that is a savage country. We are different here. I suppose, however, + your husband told you of these things, so that you were not surprised. And + when does he come? His stay is protracted. Let me see, how long is it? Ah + yes, near four years.” Here she became altogether reckless, which she + regretted afterwards, for she knew, after all, what was due herself. “He + will comeback, I suppose?” + </p> + <p> + Lady Haldwell was no coward, else she had hesitated before speaking in + that way before this woman, in whose blood was the wildness of the + heroical North. Perhaps she guessed the passion in Lali’s breast, perhaps + not. In any case she would have said what she listed at the moment. + </p> + <p> + Wild as were the passions in Lali’s breast, she thought on the instant of + her child, of what Richard Armour would say; for he had often talked to + her about not showing her emotions and passions, had told her that + violence of all kinds was not wise or proper. Her fingers ached to grasp + this beautiful, exasperating woman by the throat. But after an effort at + calmness she remained still and silent, looking at her visitor with a + scornful dignity. Lady Haldwell presently rose,—she could not endure + the furnace of that look,—and said good-bye. She turned towards the + door. Mrs. Armour remained immovable. At that instant, however, some one + stepped from behind a large screen just inside the door. It was Richard + Armour. He was pale, and on his face was a sternness the like of which + this and perhaps only one other woman had ever seen on him. He interrupted + her. + </p> + <p> + “Lady Haldwell has a fine talent for irony,” he said, “but she does not + always use it wisely. In a man it would bear another name, and from a man + it would be differently received.” He came close to her. “You are a brave + woman,” he said, “or you would have been more careful. Of course you knew + that my mother and sister were not at home?” + </p> + <p> + She smiled languidly. “And why ‘of course’?” + </p> + <p> + “I do not know that; only I know that I think so; and I also think that my + brother Frank’s worst misfortune did not occur when Miss Julia Sherwood + trafficked without compunction in his happiness.” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t be oracular, my dear Richard Armour,” she replied. “You are trying, + really. This seems almost melodramatic; and melodrama is bad enough at + Drury Lane.” + </p> + <p> + “You are not a good friend even to yourself,” he answered. + </p> + <p> + “What a discoverer you are! And how much in earnest! Do come back to the + world, Mr. Armour; you would be a relief, a new sensation.” + </p> + <p> + “I fancy I shall come back, if only to see the ‘engineer hoist with his + own’—torpedo.” + </p> + <p> + He paused before the last word to give it point, for her husband’s father + had made his money out of torpedoes. She felt the sting in spite of + herself, and she saw the point. + </p> + <p> + “And then we will talk it over at the end of the season,” he added, “and + compare notes. Good-afternoon.” + </p> + <p> + “You stake much on your hazard,” she said, glancing back at Lali, who + still stood immovable. “Au revoir!” She left the room. Richard heard the + door close after her and the servant retire. Then he turned to Lali. + </p> + <p> + As he did so, she ran forward to him with a cry. “Oh, Richard, Richard!” + she exclaimed, with a sob, threw her arms over his shoulder, and let her + forehead drop on his breast. Then came a sudden impulse in his blood. Long + after he shuddered when he remembered what he thought at that instant; + what he wished to do; what rich madness possessed him. He knew now why he + had come to town; he also knew why he must not stay, or, if staying, what + must be his course. + </p> + <p> + He took her gently by the arm and led her to a chair, speaking cheerily to + her. Then he sat down beside her, and all at once again, her face wet and + burning, she flung herself forward on her knees beside him, and clung to + him. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Richard, I am glad you have come,” she said. “I would have killed her + if I had not thought of you. I want you to stay; I am always better when + you are with me. I have missed you, and I know that baby misses you too.” + </p> + <p> + He had his cue. He rose, trembling a little. “Come, come,” he said + heartily, “it’s all right, it’s all right-my sister. Let us go and see the + youngster. There, dry your eyes, and forget all about that woman. She is + only envious of you. Come, for his imperial highness!” + </p> + <p> + She was in a tumult of feeling. It was seldom that she had shown emotion + in the past two years, and it was the more ample when it did break forth. + But she dried her eyes, and together they went to the nursery. She + dismissed the nurse and they were left alone by the sleeping child. She + knelt at the head of the little cot, and touched the child’s forehead with + her lips. He stooped down also beside it. + </p> + <p> + “He’s a grand little fellow,” he said. “Lali,” he continued presently, “it + is time Frank came home. I am going to write for him. If he does not come + at once, I shall go and fetch him.” + </p> + <p> + “Never! never!” Her eyes flashed angrily. “Promise that you will not. Let + him come when he is ready. + </p> + <p> + “He does not, care.” She shuddered a little. + </p> + <p> + “But he will care when he comes, and you—you care for him, Lali?” + </p> + <p> + Again she shuddered, and a whiteness ran under the hot excitement of her + cheeks. She said nothing, but looked up at him, then dropped her face in + her hands. + </p> + <p> + “You do care for him, Lali,” he said earnestly, almost solemnly, his lips + twitching slightly. “You must care for him; it is his right; and he will—I + swear to you I know he will—care for you.” + </p> + <p> + In his own mind there was another thought, a hard, strange thought; and it + had to do with the possibility of his brother not caring for this wife. + </p> + <p> + Still she did not speak. + </p> + <p> + “To a good woman, with a good husband,” he continued, “there is no one—there + should be no one—like the father of her child. And no woman ever + loved her child more than you do yours.” He knew that this was special + pleading. + </p> + <p> + She trembled, and then dropped her cheek beside the child’s. “I want Frank + to be happy,” he went on; “there is no one I care more for than for + Frank.” + </p> + <p> + She lifted her face to him now, in it a strange light. Then her look ran + to confusion, and she seemed to read all that he meant to convey. He knew + she did. He touched her shoulder. + </p> + <p> + “You must do the best you can every way, for Frank’s sake, for all our + sakes. I will help you—God knows I will—all I can.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, yes, yes,” she whispered, from the child’s pillow. + </p> + <p> + He could see the flame in her cheek. “I understand.” She put out her hand + to him, but did not look up. “Leave me alone with my baby, Richard,” she + pleaded. + </p> + <p> + He took her hand and pressed it again and again in his old, unconscious + way. Then he let it go, and went slowly to the door. There he turned and + looked back at her. He mastered the hot thought in him. “God help me!” she + murmured from the cot. The next morning Richard went back to Greyhope. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0007" id="link2HCH0007"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VII. A COURT-MARTIAL + </h2> + <p> + It was hard to tell, save for a certain deliberateness of speech and a + colour a little more pronounced than that of a Spanish woman, that Mrs. + Frank Armour had not been brought up in England. She had a kind of grave + sweetness and distant charm which made her notable at any table or in any + ballroom. Indeed, it soon became apparent that she was to be the pleasant + talk, the interest of the season. This was tolerably comforting to the + Armours. Again Richard’s prophecy had been fulfilled, and as he sat alone + at Greyhope and read the Morning Post, noticing Lali’s name at + distinguished gatherings, or, picking up the World, saw how the + lion-hunters talked extravagantly of her, he took some satisfaction to + himself that he had foreseen her triumph where others looked for her + downfall. Lali herself was not elated; it gratified her, but she had been + an angel, and a very unsatisfactory one, if it had not done so. As her + confidence grew (though outwardly she had never appeared to lack it + greatly), she did not hesitate to speak of herself as an Indian, her + country as a good country, and her people as a noble if dispossessed race; + all the more so if she thought reference to her nationality and past was + being rather conspicuously avoided. She had asked General Armour for an + interview with her husband’s solicitor. This was granted. When she met the + solicitor, she asked him to send no newspaper to her husband containing + any reference to herself, nor yet to mention her in his letters. + </p> + <p> + She had never directly received a line from him but once, and that was + after she had come to know the truth about his marriage with her. She + could read in the conventional sentences, made simple as for a child, the + strained politeness, and his absolute silence as to whether or not a child + had been born to them, the utter absence of affection for her. She had + also induced General Armour and his wife to give her husband’s solicitor + no information regarding the birth of the child. There was thus apparently + no more inducement for him to hurry back to England than there was when he + had sent her off on his mission of retaliation, which had been such an + ignominious failure. For the humiliation of his family had been + short-lived, the affront to Lady Haldwell nothing at all. The Armours had + not been human if they had failed to enjoy their daughter-in-law’s + success. Although they never, perhaps, would quite recover the + disappointment concerning Lady Agnes Martling, the result was so much + better than they in their cheerfulest moments dared hope for, that they + appeared genuinely content. + </p> + <p> + To their grandchild they were devotedly attached. Marion was his faithful + slave and admirer, so much so that Captain Vidall, who now and then was + permitted to see the child, declared himself jealous. He and Marion were + to be married soon. The wedding had been delayed owing to his enforced + absence abroad. Mrs. Edward Lambert, once Mrs. Townley, shyly regretted in + Lali’s presence that the child, or one as sweet, was not hers. Her husband + evidently shared her opinion, from the extraordinary notice he took of it + when his wife was not present. Not that Richard Joseph Armour, Jun., was + always en evidence, but when asked for by his faithful friends and + admirers he was amiably produced. + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile, Frank Armour across the sea was engaged with many things. His + business concerns had not prospered prodigiously, chiefly because his + judgment, like his temper, had grown somewhat uncertain. His popularity in + the Hudson’s Bay country had been at some tension since he had shipped his + wife away to England. Even the ordinary savage mind saw something unusual + and undomestic in it, and the general hospitality declined a little. + Armour did not immediately guess the cause; but one day, about a year + after his wife had gone, he found occasion to reprove a half-breed, by + name Jacques Pontiac; and Jacques, with more honesty than politeness, said + some hard words, and asked how much he paid for his English hired devils + to kill his wife. Strange to say, he did not resent this startling remark. + It set him thinking. He began to blame himself for not having written + oftener to his people—and to his wife. He wondered how far his + revenge had succeeded. He was most ashamed of it now. He knew that he had + done a dishonourable thing. The more he thought upon it the more angry + with himself he became. Yet he dreaded to go back to England and face it + all: the reproach of his people; the amusement of society; his wife + herself. He never attempted to picture her as a civilised being. He + scarcely knew her when he married her. She knew him much better, for + primitive people are quicker in the play of their passions, and she had + come to love him before he had begun to notice her at all. + </p> + <p> + Presently he ate his heart out with mortification. To be yoked for ever to—a + savage! It was horrible. And their children? It was strange he had not + thought of that before. Children? He shrugged his shoulders. There might + possibly be a child, but children—never! But he doubted even + regarding a child, for no word had come to him concerning that + possibility. He was even most puzzled at the tone and substance of their + letters. From the beginning there had been no reproaches, no excitement, + no railing, but studied kindness and conventional statements, through + which Mrs. Armour’s solicitous affection scarcely ever peeped. He had shot + his bolt, and got—consideration, almost imperturbability. They + appeared to treat the matter as though he were a wild youth who would not + yet mend his ways. He read over their infrequent letters to him; his to + them had been still more infrequent. In one there was the statement that + “she was progressing favourably with her English”; in another, that “she + was riding a good deal”; again, that “she appeared anxious to adapt + herself to her new life.” + </p> + <p> + At all these he whistled a little to himself, and smiled bitterly. Then, + all at once, he got up and straightway burned them all. He again tried to + put the matter behind him for the present, knowing that he must face it + one day, and staving off its reality as long as possible. He did his + utmost to be philosophical and say his quid refert, but it was easier + tried than done; for Jacques Pontiac’s words kept rankling in his mind, + and he found himself carrying round a vague load, which made him + abstracted occasionally, and often a little reckless in action and speech. + In hunting bear and moose he had proved himself more daring than the + oldest hunter, and proportionately successful. He paid his servants well, + but was sharp with them. + </p> + <p> + He made long, hard expeditions, defying the weather as the hardiest of + prairie and mountain men mostly hesitate to defy it; he bought up much + land, then, dissatisfied, sold it again at a loss, but subsequently made + final arrangements for establishing a very large farm. When he once became + actually interested in this he shook off something of his moodiness and + settled himself to develop the thing. He had good talent for initiative + and administration, and at last, in the time when his wife was a feature + of the London season, he found his scheme in working order, and the + necessity of going to England was forced upon him. + </p> + <p> + Actually he wished that the absolute necessity had presented itself + before. There was always the moral necessity, of course—but then! + Here now was a business need; and he must go. Yet he did not fix a day or + make definite arrangements. He could hardly have believed himself such a + coward. With liberal emphasis he called himself a sneak, and one day at + Fort Charles sat down to write to his solicitor in Montreal to say that he + would come on at once. Still he hesitated. As he sat there thinking, + Eye-of-the-Moon, his father-in-law, opened the door quietly and entered. + He had avoided the chief ever since he had come back to Fort Charles, and + practically had not spoken to him for a year. Armour flushed slightly with + annoyance. But presently, with a touch of his old humour, he rose, held + out his hand, and said ironically: “Well, father-in-law, it’s about time + we had a big talk, isn’t it? We’re not very intimate for such close + relatives.” + </p> + <p> + The old Indian did not fully understand the meaning or the tone of + Armour’s speech, but he said “How!” and, reaching out his hand for the + pipe offered him, lighted it, and sat down, smoking in silence. Armour + waited; but, seeing that the other was not yet moved to talk, he turned to + his letter again. After a time, Eye-of-the-Moon said gravely, getting to + his feet: “Brother!” + </p> + <p> + Armour looked up, then rose also. The Indian bowed to him courteously, + then sat down again. Armour threw a leg over a corner of the table and + waited. + </p> + <p> + “Brother,” said the Indian presently, “you are of the great race that + conquers us. You come and take our land and our game, and we at last have + to beg of you for food and shelter. Then you take our daughters, and we + know not where they go. They are gone like the down from the thistle. We + see them not, but you remain. And men say evil things. There are bad words + abroad. Brother, what have you done with my daughter?” + </p> + <p> + Had the Indian come and stormed, begged money of him, sponged on him, or + abused him, he had taken it very calmly—he would, in fact, have been + superior. But there was dignity in the chief’s manner; there was solemnity + in his speech; his voice conveyed resoluteness and earnestness, which the + stoic calm of his face might not have suggested; and Armour felt that he + had no advantage at all. Besides, Armour had a conscience, though he had + played some rare tricks with it of late, and it needed more hardihood than + he possessed to face this old man down. And why face him down? Lali was + his daughter, blood of his blood, the chieftainess of one branch of his + people, honoured at least among these poor savages, and the old man had a + right to ask, as asked another more famous, “Where is my daughter?” + </p> + <p> + His hands in his pockets, Armour sat silent for a minute, eyeing his boot, + as he swung his leg to and fro. Presently he said: “Eye-of-the-Moon, I + don’t think I can talk as poetically as you, even in my own language, and + I shall not try. But I should like to ask you this: Do you believe any + harm has come to your daughter—to my wife?” + </p> + <p> + The old Indian forgot to blow the tobacco-smoke from his mouth, and, as he + sat debating, lips slightly apart, it came leaking out in little trailing + clouds and gave a strange appearance to his iron-featured face. He looked + steadily at Armour, and said: “You are of those who rule in your land,”—here + Armour protested,—“you have much gold to buy and sell. I am a + chief,” he drew himself up,—“I am poor: we speak with the straight + tongue; it is cowards who lie. Speak deep as from the heart, my brother, + and tell me where my daughter is.” + </p> + <p> + Armour could not but respect the chief for the way this request was put, + but still it galled him to think that he was under suspicion of having + done any bodily injury to his wife, so he quietly persisted: “Do you think + I have done Lali any harm?” + </p> + <p> + “The thing is strange,” replied the other. “You are of those who are great + among your people. You married a daughter of a red man. Then she was yours + for less than one moon, and you sent her far away, and you stayed. Her + father was as a dog in your sight. Do men whose hearts are clear act so? + They have said strange things of you. I have not believed; but it is good + I know all, that I may say to the tale-bearers, ‘You have crooked + tongues.’” + </p> + <p> + Armour sat for a moment longer, his face turned to the open window. He was + perfectly still, but he had become grave. He was about to reply to the + chief, when the trader entered the room hurriedly with a newspaper in his + hand. He paused abruptly when he saw Eye-of-the-Moon. Armour felt that the + trader had something important to communicate. He guessed it was in the + paper. He mutely held out his hand for it. The trader handed it to him + hesitatingly, at the same time pointing to a paragraph, and saying: “It is + nearly two years old, as you see. I chanced upon it by accident to-day.” + </p> + <p> + It was a copy of a London evening paper, containing a somewhat sensational + account of Lali’s accident. It said that she was in a critical condition. + This time Armour did not ask for brandy, but the trader put it out beside + him. He shook his head. “Gordon,” he said presently, “I shall leave here + in the morning. Please send my men to me.” + </p> + <p> + The trader whispered to him: “She was all right, of course, long ago, Mr. + Armour, or you would have heard.” + </p> + <p> + Armour looked at the date of the paper. He had several letters from + England of a later date, and these said nothing of her illness. It + bewildered him, made him uneasy. Perhaps the first real sense of his duty + as a husband came home to him there. For the first time he was anxious + about the woman for her own sake. The trader had left the room. + </p> + <p> + “What a scoundrel I’ve been!” said Armour between his teeth, oblivious, + for the moment, of Eye-of-the-Moon’s presence. Presently, bethinking + himself, he turned to the Indian. “I’ve been debating,” he said. + “Eye-of-the-Moon, my wife is in England, at my father’s home. I am going + to her. Men have lied in thinking I would do her any injury, but—but—never + mind, the harm was of another kind. It isn’t wise for a white man and an + Indian to marry, but when they are married—well, they must live as + man and wife should live, and, as I said, I am going to my wife.” + </p> + <p> + To say all this to a common Indian, whose only property was a dozen ponies + and a couple of tepees, required something very like moral courage; but + then Armour had not been exercising moral courage during the last year or + so, and its exercise was profitable to him. The next morning he was on his + way to Montreal, and Eye-of-the-Moon was the richest chief in British + North America, at that moment, by five thousand dollars or so. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0008" id="link2HCH0008"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VIII. TO EVERY MAN HIS HOUR + </h2> + <p> + It was the close of the season: many people had left town, but festivities + were still on. To a stranger the season might have seemed at its height. + The Armours were giving a large party in Cavendish Square before going + back again to Greyhope, where, for the sake of Lali and her child, they + intended to remain during the rest of the summer, in preference to going + on the Continent or to Scotland. The only unsatisfactory feature of Lali’s + season was the absence of her husband. Naturally there were those who said + strange things regarding Frank Armour’s stay in America; but it was pretty + generally known that he was engaged in land speculations, and his club + friends, who perhaps took the pleasantest view of the matter, said that he + was very wise indeed, if a little cowardly, in staying abroad until his + wife was educated and ready to take her position in society. There was one + thing on which they were all agreed: Mrs. Frank Armour either had a mind + superior to the charms of their sex, or was incapable of that vanity which + hath many suitors, and says: “So far shalt thou go, and—” The fact + is, Mrs. Frank Armour’s mind was superior. She had only one object—to + triumph over her husband grandly, as a woman righteously might. She had + vanity, of course, but it was not ignoble. She kept one thing in view; she + lived for it. + </p> + <p> + Her translation had been successful. There were times when she remembered + her father, the wild days on the prairies, the buffalo-hunt, tracking the + deer, tribal battles, the long silent hours of the winter, and the warm + summer nights when she slept in the prairie grass or camped with her + people in the trough of a great landwave. Sometimes the hunger for its + freedom, and its idleness, and its sport, came to her greatly; but she + thought of her child, and she put it from her. She was ambitious for him; + she was keen to prove her worth as a wife against her husband’s + unworthiness. This perhaps saved her. She might have lost had her life + been without this motive. + </p> + <p> + The very morning of this notable reception, General Armour had received a + note from Frank Armour’s solicitor, saying that his son was likely to + arrive in London from America that day or the next. Frank had written to + his people no word of his coming; to his wife, as we have said, he had not + written for months; and before he started back he would not write, because + he wished to make what amends he could in person. He expected to find her + improved, of course, but still he could only think of her as an Indian, + showing her common prairie origin. His knowledge of her before their + marriage had been particularly brief; she was little more in his eyes than + a thousand other Indian women, save that she was better-looking, was + whiter than most, and had finer features. He could not very clearly + remember the tones of her voice, because after marriage, and before he had + sent her to England, he had seen little or nothing of her. + </p> + <p> + When General Armour received the news of Frank’s return he told his wife + and Marion, and they consulted together whether it were good to let Lali + know at once. He might arrive that evening. If so, the position would be + awkward, because it was impossible to tell how it might affect her. If + they did tell her, and Frank happened not to arrive, it might unnerve her + so as to make her appearance in the evening doubtful. Richard, the + wiseacre, the inexhaustible Richard, was caring for his cottagers and + cutting the leaves of new books—his chiefest pleasure—at + Greyhope. They felt it was a matter they ought to be able to decide for + themselves, but still it was the last evening of Lali’s stay in town, and + they did not care to take any risk. Strange to say, they had come to take + pride in their son’s wife; for even General and Mrs. Armour, high-minded + and of serene social status as they were, seemed not quite insensible to + the pleasure of being an axle on which a system of social notoriety + revolved. + </p> + <p> + At the opportune moment Captain Vidall was announced, and, because he and + Marion were soon to carry but one name between them, he was called into + family consultation. It is somewhat singular that in this case the women + were quite wrong and the men were quite right. For General Armour and + Captain Vidall were for silence until Frank came, if he came that day, or + for telling her the following morning, when the function was over. And the + men prevailed. + </p> + <p> + Marion was much excited all day; she had given orders that Frank’s room + should be made ready, but for whom she gave no information. While Lali was + dressing for the evening, something excited and nervous, she entered her + room. They were now the best of friends. The years had seen many shifting + scenes in their companionship; they had been as often at war as at peace; + but they had respected each other, each after her own fashion; and now + they had a real and mutual regard. Lali’s was a slim, lithe figure, + wearing its fashionable robes with an air of possession; and the face + above it, if not entirely beautiful, had a strange, warm fascination. The + girl had not been a chieftainess for nothing. A look of quiet command was + there, but also a far-away expression which gave a faint look of sadness + even when a smile was at the lips. The smile itself did not come quickly, + it grew; but above it all was hair of perfect brown, most rare,—setting + off her face as a plume does a helmet. She showed no surprise when Marion + entered. She welcomed her with a smile and outstretched hand, but said + nothing. + </p> + <p> + “Lali,” said Marion somewhat abruptly,—she scarcely knew why she + said it,—“are you happy?” + </p> + <p> + It was strange how the Indian girl had taken on those little manners of + society which convey so much by inflection. She lifted her eyebrows at + Marion, and said presently, in a soft, deliberate voice, “Come, Marion, we + will go and see little Richard; then I shall be happy.” + </p> + <p> + She linked her arm through Marion’s. Marion drummed her fingers lightly on + the beautiful arm, and then fell to wondering what she should say next. + They passed into the room where the child lay sleeping; they went to his + little bed, and Lali stretched out her hand gently, touching the curls of + the child. Running a finger through one delicately, she said, with a still + softer tone than before: “Why should not one be happy?” + </p> + <p> + Marion looked up slowly into her eyes, let a hand fall on her shoulder + gently, and replied: “Lali, do you never wish Frank to come?” + </p> + <p> + Lali’s fingers came from the child, the colour mounted slowly to her + forehead, and she drew the girl away again into the other room. Then she + turned and faced Marion, a deep fire in her eyes, and said, in a whisper + almost hoarse in its intensity: “Yes; I wish he would come to-night.” + </p> + <p> + She looked harder yet at Marion; then, with a flash of pride and her hands + clasping before her, she drew herself up, and added: “Am I not worthy to + be his wife now? Am I not beautiful—for a savage?” + </p> + <p> + There was no common vanity in the action. It had a noble kind of + wistfulness, and a serenity that entirely redeemed it. Marion dated her + own happiness from the time when Lali met her accident, for in the evening + of that disastrous day she issued to Captain Hume Vidall a commission + which he could never—wished never—to resign. Since then she + had been at her best,—we are all more or less selfish creatures,—and + had grown gentler, curbing the delicate imperiousness of her nature, and + frankly, and without the least pique, taken a secondary position of + interest in the household, occasioned by Lali’s popularity. She looked + Lali up and down with a glance in which many feelings met, and then, + catching her hands warmly, she lifted them, put them on her own shoulders, + and said: “My dear beautiful savage, you are fit and worthy to be Queen of + England; and Frank, when he comes—” + </p> + <p> + “Hush!” said the other dreamily, and put a finger on Marion’s lips. “I + know what you are going to say, but I do not wish to hear it. He did not + love me then. He used me—” She shuddered, put her hands to her eyes + with a pained, trembling motion, then threw her head back with a quick + sigh. “But I will not speak of it. Come, we are for the dance, Marion. It + is the last, to-night. To-morrow—” She paused, looking straight + before her, lost in thought. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, to-morrow, Lali?” + </p> + <p> + “I do not know about to-morrow,” was the reply. “Strange things come to + me.” + </p> + <p> + Marion longed to tell her then and there the great news, but she was + afraid to do so, and was, moreover, withheld by the remembrance that it + had been agreed she should not be told. She said nothing. + </p> + <p> + At eleven o’clock the rooms were filled. For the fag end of the season, + people seemed unusually brilliant. The evening itself was not so hot as + common, and there was an extra array of distinguished guests. Marion was + nervous all the evening, though she showed little of it, being most + prettily employed in making people pleased with themselves. Mrs. Armour + also was not free from apprehension. In reply to inquiries concerning her + son she said, as she had often said during the season, that he might be + back at any time now. Lali had answered always in the same fashion, and + had shown no sign that his continued absence was singular. As the evening + wore on, the probability of Frank’s appearance seemed less; and the + Armours began to breathe more freely. + </p> + <p> + Frank had, however, arrived. He had driven straight from Euston to + Cavendish Square, but, seeing the house lighted up, and guests arriving, + he had a sudden feeling of uncertainty. He ordered the cabman to take him + to his club. There he put himself in evening-dress, and drove back again + to the house. He entered quietly. At the moment the hall was almost + deserted; people were mostly in the ballroom and supper-room. He paused a + moment, biting his moustache as if in perplexity. A strange timidity came + on him. All his old dash and self-possession seemed to have forsaken him. + Presently, seeing a number of people entering the hall, he made for the + staircase, and went hastily up. Mechanically he went to his own room, and + found it lighted. Flowers were set about, and everything was made ready as + for a guest. He sat down, not thinking, but dazed. + </p> + <p> + Glancing up, he saw his face in a mirror. It was bronzed, but it looked + rather old and careworn. He shrugged a shoulder at that. Then, in the + mirror, he saw also something else. It startled him so that he sat + perfectly still for a moment looking at it. It was some one laughing at + him over his shoulder—a child! He got to his feet and turned round. + On the table was a very large photograph of a smiling child—with his + eyes, his face. He caught the chair-arm, and stood looking at it a little + wildly. Then he laughed a strange laugh, and the tears leaped to his eyes. + He caught the picture in his hands, and kissed it,—very foolishly, + men not fathers might think,—and read the name beneath, Richard + Joseph Armour; and again, beneath that, the date of birth. He then put it + back on the table and sat looking at it-looking, and forgetting, and + remembering. + </p> + <p> + Presently, the door opened, and some one entered. It was Marion. She had + seen him pass through the hall; she had then gone and told her father and + mother, to prepare them, and had followed him upstairs. He did not hear + her. She stepped softly forwards. “Frank!” she said—“Frank!” and + laid a hand on his shoulder. He started up and turned his face on her. + </p> + <p> + Then he caught her hands and kissed her. “Marion!” he said, and he could + say no more. But presently he pointed towards the photograph. + </p> + <p> + She nodded her head. “Yes, it is your child, Frank. Though, of course, you + don’t deserve it.... Frank dear,” she added, “I am glad—we shall all + be glad-to have you back; but you are a wicked man.” She felt she must say + that. + </p> + <p> + Now he only nodded, and still looked at the portrait. “Where is—my + wife?” he added presently. + </p> + <p> + “She is in the ballroom.” Marion was wondering what was best to do. + </p> + <p> + He caught his thumb-nail in his teeth. He winced in spite of himself. “I + will go to her,” he said, “and then—the baby.” + </p> + <p> + “I am glad,” she replied, “that you have so much sense of justice left, + Frank: the wife first, the baby afterwards. But do you think you deserve + either?” + </p> + <p> + He became moody, and made an impatient gesture. “Lady Agnes Martling is + here, and also Lady Haldwell,” she persisted cruelly. She did not mind, + because she knew he would have enough to compensate him afterwards. + </p> + <p> + “Marion,” he said, “say it all, and let me have it over. Say what you + like, and I’ll not whimper. I’ll face it. But I want to see my child.” + </p> + <p> + She was sorry for him. She had really wanted to see how much he was + capable of feeling in the matter. + </p> + <p> + “Wait here, Frank,” she said. “That will be best; and I will bring your + wife to you.” + </p> + <p> + He said nothing, but assented with a motion of the hand, and she left him + where he was. He braced himself for the interview. Assuredly a man loses + something of natural courage and self-confidence when he has done a thing + of which he should be, and is, ashamed. + </p> + <p> + It seemed a long time (it was in reality but a couple of minutes) before + the door opened again, and Marion said: “Frank, your wife!” and then + retreated. + </p> + <p> + The door closed, leaving a stately figure standing just inside it. The + figure did not move forwards, but stood there, full of life and fine + excitement, but very still also. + </p> + <p> + Frank Armour was confounded. He came forwards slowly, looking hard. Was + this distinguished, handsome, reproachful woman his wife—Lali, the + Indian girl, whom he had married in a fit of pique and brandy? He could + hardly believe his eyes; and yet hers looked out at him with something + that he remembered too, together with something which he did not remember, + making him uneasy. Clearly, his great mistake had turned from ashes into + fruit. “Lali!” he said, and held out his hand. + </p> + <p> + She reached out hers courteously, but her fingers gave him no response. + </p> + <p> + “We have many things to say to each other,” she said, “but they cannot be + said now. I shall be missed from the ballroom.” + </p> + <p> + “Missed from the ballroom!” He almost laughed to think how strange this + sounded in his ears. As if interpreting his thought, she added: “You see, + it is our last affair of the season, and we are all anxious to do our duty + perfectly. Will you go down with me? We can talk afterwards.” + </p> + <p> + Her continued self-possession utterly confused him. She had utterly + confused Marion also, when told that her husband was in the house. She had + had presentiments, and, besides, she had been schooling herself for this + hour for a long time. She turned towards the door. + </p> + <p> + “But,” he asked, like a supplicant, “our child! I want to see the boy.” + </p> + <p> + She lifted her eyebrows, then, seeing the photograph of the baby on the + table, understood how he knew. “Come with me, then,” she said, with a + little more feeling. + </p> + <p> + She led the way along the landing, and paused at her door. “Remember that + we have to appear amongst the guests directly,” she said, as though to + warn him against any demonstration. Then they entered. She went over to + the cot and drew back the fleecy curtain from over the sleeping boy’s + head. His fingers hungered to take his child to his arms. “He is + magnificent—magnificent!” he said, with a great pride. “Why did you + never let me know of it?” + </p> + <p> + “How could I tell what you would do?” she calmly replied. “You married me—wickedly, + and used me wickedly afterwards; and I loved the child.” + </p> + <p> + “You loved the child,” he repeated after her. “Lali,” he added, “I don’t + deserve it, but forgive me, if you can—for the child’s sake.” + </p> + <p> + “We had better go below,” she calmly replied. “We have both duties to do. + You will of course—appear with me—before them?” + </p> + <p> + The slight irony in the tone cut him horribly. He offered his arm in + silence. They passed on to the staircase. + </p> + <p> + “It is necessary,” she said, “to appear cheerful before one’s guests.” + </p> + <p> + She had him at an advantage at every point. “We will be cheerful, then,” + was his reply, spoken with a grim kind of humour. “You have learned it + all, haven’t you?” he added. + </p> + <p> + They were just entering the ballroom. “Yes, with your kind help—and + absence,” she replied. + </p> + <p> + The surprise of the guests was somewhat diminished by the fact that + Marion, telling General Armour and his wife first of Frank’s return, + industriously sent the news buzzing about the room. + </p> + <p> + The two went straight to Frank’s father and mother. Their parts were all + excellently played. Then Frank mingled among the guests, being very + heartily greeted, and heard congratulations on all sides. Old club friends + rallied him as a deserter, and new acquaintances flocked about him; and + presently he awakened to the fact that his Indian wife had been an + interest of the season, was not the least admired person present. It was + altogether too good luck for him; but he had an uncomfortable conviction + that he had a long path of penance to walk before he could hope to enjoy + it. + </p> + <p> + All at once he met Lady Haldwell, who, in spite of all, still accepted + invitations to General Armour’s house—the strange scene between Lali + and herself never having been disclosed to the family. He had nothing but + bitterness in his heart for her, but he spoke a few smooth words, and she + languidly congratulated him on his bronzed appearance. He asked for a + dance, but she had not one to give him. As she was leaving, she suddenly + turned as though she had forgotten something, and looking at him, said: “I + forgot to congratulate you on your marriage. I hope it is not too late?” + </p> + <p> + He bowed. “Your congratulations are so sincere,” he said, “that they would + be a propos late or early.” When he stood with his wife whilst the guests + were leaving, and saw with what manner she carried it all off,—as + though she had been born in the good land of good breeding,—he was + moved alternately with wonder and shame—shame that he had intended + this noble creature as a sacrifice to his ugly temper and spite. + </p> + <p> + When all the guests were gone and the family stood alone in the + drawing-room, a silence suddenly fell amongst them. Presently Marion said + to her mother in a half-whisper, “I wish Richard were here.” + </p> + <p> + They all felt the extreme awkwardness of the situation, especially when + Lali bade General Armour, Mrs. Armour, and Marion good-night, and then, + turning to her husband, said, “Good-night”—she did not even speak + his name. “Perhaps you would care to ride to-morrow morning? I always go + to the Park at ten, and this will be my last ride of the season.” + </p> + <p> + Had she written out an elaborate proclamation of her intended attitude + towards her husband, it could not have more clearly conveyed her mind than + this little speech, delivered as to a most friendly acquaintance. General + Armour pulled his moustache fiercely, and, it is possible, enjoyed the + situation, despite its peril. Mrs. Armour turned to the mantel and seemed + tremulously engaged in arranging some bric-a-brac. Marion, however, with a + fine instinct, slid her arm through that of Lali, and gently said: “Yes, + of course Frank will be glad of a ride in the Park. He used to ride with + me every morning. But let us go, us three, and kiss the baby good-night—‘good-night + till we meet in the morning.’” + </p> + <p> + She linked her arm now through Frank’s, and as she did so he replied to + Lali: “I shall be glad to ride in the morning, but—” + </p> + <p> + “But we can arrange it at breakfast,” said his wife hurriedly. At the same + time she allowed herself to be drawn away to the hall with her husband. + </p> + <p> + He was very angry, but he knew he had no right to be so. He choked back + his wrath and moved on amiably enough, and suddenly the fashion in which + the tables had been turned on him struck him with its tragic comedy, and + he involuntarily smiled. His sense of humour saved him from words and acts + which might possibly have made the matter a pure tragedy after all. He + loosed his arm from Marion’s. + </p> + <p> + “I must bid father and mother good-night. Then I will join you both—‘in + the court of the king.’” And he turned and went back, and said to his + father as he kissed his mother: “I am had at an advantage, General.” + </p> + <p> + “And serves you right, my boy. You had the odds with you, but she has + captured them like a born soldier.” His mother said to him gently: “Frank, + you blamed us, but remember that we wished only your good. Take my advice, + dear, and try to love your wife and win her confidence.” + </p> + <p> + “Love her—try to love her!” he said. “I shall easily do that. But + the other—?” He shook his head a little, though what he meant + perhaps he did not know quite himself, and then followed Marion and Lali + upstairs. Marion had tried to escape from Lali, but was told that she must + stay; and the three met at the child’s cot. Marion stooped down and kissed + its forehead. Frank stooped also and kissed its cheek. Then the wife + kissed the other cheek. The child slept peacefully on. “You can always see + the baby here before breakfast, if you choose,” said Lali; and she held + out her hand again in good-night. At this point Marion stole away, in + spite of Lah’s quick little cry of “Wait, Marion!” and the two were left + alone again. + </p> + <p> + “I am very tired,” she said. “I would rather not talk to-night.” The + dismissal was evident. + </p> + <p> + He took her hand, held it an instant, and presently said: “I will not + detain you, but I would ask you, Lali, to remember that you are my wife. + Nothing can alter that.” + </p> + <p> + “Still we are only strangers, as you know,” she quietly rejoined. + </p> + <p> + “You forget the days we were together—after we were married,” he + cautiously urged. + </p> + <p> + “I am not the same girl,... you killed her... We have to start again.... I + know all.” + </p> + <p> + “You know that in my wretched anger and madness I—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, please do not speak of it,” she said; “it is so bad even in thought.” + </p> + <p> + “But will you never forgive me, and care for me? We have to live our lives + together.” + </p> + <p> + “Pray let us not speak of it now,” she said, in a weary voice; then, + breathlessly: “It is of much more consequence that you should love me—and + the child.” + </p> + <p> + He drew himself up with a choking sigh, and spread out his arms to her. + “Oh, my wife!” he exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + “No, no,” she cried, “this is unreasonable; we know so little of each + other.... Good-night, again.” + </p> + <p> + He turned at the door, came back, and, stooping, kissed the child on the + lips. Then he said: “You are right. I deserve to suffer.... Good-night.” + </p> + <p> + But when he was gone she dropped on her knees, and kissed the child many + times on the lips also. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0009" id="link2HCH0009"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IX. THE FAITH OF COMRADES + </h2> + <p> + When Francis Armour left his wife’s room he did not go to his own, but + quietly descended the stairs, went to the library, and sat down. The + loneliest thing in the world is to be tete-a-tete with one’s conscience. A + man may have a bad hour with an enemy, a sad hour with a friend, a + peaceful hour with himself, but when the little dwarf, conscience, perches + upon every hillock of remembrance and makes slow signs—those strange + symbols of the language of the soul—to him, no slave upon the + tread-mill suffers more. + </p> + <p> + The butler came in to see if anything was required, but Armour only + greeted him silently and waved him away. His brain was painfully alert, + his memory singularly awake. It seemed that the incident of this hour had + so opened up every channel of his intelligence that all his life ran past + him in fantastic panorama, as by that illumination which comes to the + drowning man. He seemed under some strange spell. Once or twice he rose, + rubbed his eyes, and looked round the room—the room where as a boy + he had spent idle hours, where as a student he had been in the hands of + his tutor, and as a young man had found recreations such as belong to + ambitious and ardent youth. Every corner was familiar. Nothing was + changed. The books upon the shelves were as they were placed twenty years + ago. And yet he did not seem a part of it. It did not seem natural to him. + He was in an atmosphere of strangeness—that atmosphere which + surrounds a man, as by a cloud, when some crisis comes upon him and his + life seems to stand still, whirling upon its narrow base, while the world + appears at an interminable distance, even as to a deaf man who sees yet + cannot hear. + </p> + <p> + There came home to him at that moment with a force indescribable the + shamelessness of the act he committed four years ago. He had thought to + come back to miserable humiliation. For four years he had refused to do + his duty as a man towards an innocent woman,—a woman, though in part + a savage,—now transformed into a gentle, noble creature of delight + and goodness. How had he deserved it? He had sown the storm, it was but + just that he should reap the whirlwind; he had scattered thistles, could + he expect to gather grapes? He knew that the sympathy of all his father’s + house was not with him, but with the woman he had wronged. He was glad it + was so. Looking back now, it seemed so poor and paltry a thing that he, a + man, should stoop to revenge himself upon those who had given him birth, + as a kind of insult to the woman who had lightly set him aside, and should + use for that purpose a helpless, confiding girl. To revenge one’s self for + wrong to one’s self is but a common passion, which has little dignity; to + avenge some one whom one has loved, man or woman,—and, before all, + woman,—has some touch of nobility, is redeemed by loyalty. For his + act there was not one word of defence to be made, and he was not prepared + to make it. + </p> + <p> + The cigars and liquors were beside him, but he did not touch them. He + seemed very far away from the ordinary details of his life: he knew he had + before him hard travel, and he was not confident of the end. He could not + tell how long he sat there.—After, a time the ticking of the clock + seemed painfully loud to him. Now and again he heard a cab rattling + through the Square, and the foolish song of some drunken loiterer in the + night caused him to start painfully. Everything jarred on him. Once he got + up, went to the window, and looked out. The moon was shining full on the + Square. He wondered if it would be well for him to go out and find some + quiet to his nerves in walking. He did so. Out in the Square he looked up + to his wife’s window. It was lighted. Long time he walked up and down, his + eyes on the window. It held him like a charm. Once he leaned against the + iron railings of the garden and looked up, not moving for a time. + Presently he saw the curtain of the window raised, and against the dim + light of the room was outlined the figure of his wife. He knew it. She + stood for a moment looking out into the night. She could not see him, nor + could he see her features at all plainly, but he knew that she, like him, + was alone with the catastrophe which his wickedness had sent upon her. + Soon the curtain was drawn down again, and then he went once more to the + house and took his old seat beside the table. He fell to brooding, and at + last, exhausted, dropped to a troubled sleep. He woke with a start. Some + one was in the room. He heard a step behind him. He came to his feet + quickly, a wild light in his eyes. He faced his brother Richard. + </p> + <p> + Late in the afternoon Marion had telegraphed to Richard that Frank was + coming. He had been away visiting some poor and sick people, and when he + came back to Greyhope it was too late to catch the train. But the horses + were harnessed straightway, and he was driven into town, a three-hours’ + drive. He had left the horses at the stables, and, having a latch-key, had + come in quietly. He had seen the light in the study, and guessed who was + there. He entered, and saw his brother asleep. He watched him for a moment + and studied him. Then he moved away to take off his hat, and, as he did + so, stumbled slightly. Then it was Frank waked, and for the first time in + five years they looked each other in the eyes. They both stood immovable + for a moment, and then Richard caught Frank’s hand in both of his and + said: “God bless you, my boy! I am glad you are back.” + </p> + <p> + “Dick! Dick!” was the reply, and Frank’s other hand clutched Richard’s + shoulder in his strong emotion. They stood silent for a moment longer, and + then Richard recovered himself. He waved his hand to the chairs. The + strain of the situation was a little painful for them both. Men are shy + with each other where their emotions are in play. + </p> + <p> + “Why, my boy,” he said, waving a hand to the spirits and liqueurs, “full + bottles and unopened boxes? Tut, tut! here’s a pretty how-d’ye-do. Is this + the way you toast the home quarters? You’re a fine soldier for an old + mess!” + </p> + <p> + So saying, he poured out some whiskey, then opened the box of cigars and + pushed them towards his brother. He did not care particularly to drink or + smoke himself, but a man—an Englishman—is a strange creature. + He is most natural and at ease when he is engaged in eating and drinking. + He relieves every trying situation by some frivolous and selfish + occupation, as of dismembering a partridge, or mixing a punch. + </p> + <p> + “Well, Frank,” said his brother, “now what have you to say for yourself? + Why didn’t you come long ago? You have played the adventurer for five + years, and what have you to show for it? Have you a fortune?” Frank shook + his head, and twisted a shoulder. “What have you done that is worth the + doing, then?” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing that I intended to do, Dick,” was the grave reply. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I imagined that. You have seen them, have you?” he added, in a + softer voice. + </p> + <p> + Frank blew a great cloud of smoke about his face, and through it he said: + “Yes, I have seen a damned sight more than I deserved to see.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, of course; I know that, my boy; but, so far as I can see, in another + direction you are getting quite what you deserve: your wife and child are + upstairs—you are here.” + </p> + <p> + He paused, was silent for a moment, then leaned over, caught his brother’s + arm, and said, in a low, strenuous voice: “Frank Armour, you laid a + hateful little plot for us. It wasn’t manly, but we forgave it and did the + best we could. But see here, Frank, take my word for it, you have had a + lot of luck. There isn’t one woman out of ten thousand that would have + stood the test as your wife has stood it; injured at the start, constant + neglect, temptation—” he paused. “My boy, did you ever think of + that, of the temptation to a woman neglected by her husband? The + temptation to men? Yes, you have had a lot of luck. There has been a + special providence for you, my boy; but not for your sake. God doesn’t + love neglectful husbands, but I think He is pretty sorry for neglected + wives.” + </p> + <p> + Frank was very still. His head drooped, the cigar hung unheeded in his + fingers for a moment, and he said at last: “Dick, old boy, I’ve thought it + all over to-night since I came back—everything that you’ve said. I + have not a word of defence to make, but, by heaven! I’m going to win my + wife’s love if I can, and when I do it I’ll make up for all my cursed + foolishness—see if I don’t.” + </p> + <p> + “That sounds well, Frank,” was the quiet reply. “I like to hear you talk + that way. You would be very foolish if you did not. What do you think of + the child?” + </p> + <p> + “Can you ask me what I think? He is a splendid little fellow.” + </p> + <p> + “Take care of him, then—take good care of him: you may never have + another,” was the grim rejoinder. Frank winced. His brother rose, took his + arm, and said: “Let us go to our rooms, Frank. There will be time enough + to talk later, and I am not so young as I once was.” + </p> + <p> + Truth to say, Richard Armour was not so young as he seemed a few months + before. His shoulders were a little stooped, he was greyer about the + temples. The little bit of cynicism which had appeared in that remark + about the care of the child showed also in the lines of his mouth; yet his + eyes had the same old true, honest look. But a man cannot be hit in mortal + places once or twice in his life without its being etched on his face or + dropped like a pinch of aloe from his tongue. + </p> + <p> + Still they sat and talked much longer, Frank showing better than when his + brother came, Richard gone grey and tired. At last Richard rose and + motioned towards the window. “See, Frank,” he said, “it is morning.” Then + he went and lifted the blind. The grey, unpurged air oozed on the glass. + The light was breaking over the tops of the houses. A crossing-sweeper + early to his task, or holding the key of the street, went pottering by, + and a policeman glanced up at them as he passed. Richard drew down the + curtain again. + </p> + <p> + “Dick,” said Frank suddenly, “you look old. I wonder if I have changed as + much?” + </p> + <p> + Six months before, Frank Armour would have said hat his brother looked + young. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, you look young enough, Frank,” was the reply. “But I am a good deal + older than I was five years ago... Come, let us go to bed.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0010" id="link2HCH0010"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER X. THOU KNOWEST THE SECRETS OF OUR HEARTS + </h2> + <p> + And Lali? How had the night gone for her? When she rose from the child’s + cot, where her lips had caught the warmth that her husband had left on + them, she stood for a moment bewildered in the middle of the room. She + looked at the door out of which he had gone, her bosom beating hard, her + heart throbbing so that it hurt her—that she could have cried out + from mere physical pain. The wifedom in her was plundering the wild stores + of her generous soul for the man, for—as Richard had said that day, + that memorable day!—the father of her child. But the woman, the pure + translated woman, who was born anew when this frail life in its pink and + white glory crept out into the dazzling world, shrank back, as any girl + might shrink that had not known marriage. This child had come—from + what?—She shuddered now—how many times had she done so since + she first waked to the vulgar sacrilege of her marriage? She knew now that + every good mother, when her first child is born, takes it in her arms, + and, all her agony gone, and the ineffable peace of delivered motherhood + come, speaks the name of its father, and calls it his child. But—she + remembered it now—when her child was born, this little waif, the + fruit of a man’s hot, malicious hour, she wrapped it in her arms, pressed + its delicate flesh to the silken folds of her bosom, and weeping, + whispered only: “My child, my little, little child!” + </p> + <p> + She had never, as many a wife far from her husband has done, talked to her + child of its father, told it of his beauty and his virtues, arrayed it day + by day in sweet linen and pretty adornments, as if he were just then + knocking at her door; she had never imagined what he would say when he did + come. What could such a father think of his child, born of a woman whose + very life he had intended as an insult? No, she had loved it for father + and mother also. She had tried to be good, a good mother, living a life + unutterably lonely, hard in all that it involved of study, new duty, + translation, and burial of primitive emotions. And with all the care and + tearful watchfulness that had been needed, she had grown so proud, so + exacting—exacting for her child, proud for herself. + </p> + <p> + How could she know now that this hasty declaration of affection was + anything more than the mere man in him? Years ago she had not been able to + judge between love and insult—what guarantee had she here? Did he + think that she could believe in him? She was not the woman he had married, + he was not the man she had married. He had deceived her basely—she + had been a common chattel. She had been miserable enough—could she + give herself over to his flying emotions again so suddenly? + </p> + <p> + She paced the room, her face now in her hands, her hands now clasping and + wringing before her. Her wifely duty? She straightened to that. Duty! She + was first and before all a good, unpolluted woman. No, no, it could not + be. Love him? Again she shrank. Then came flooding on her that afternoon + when she had flung herself on Richard’s breast, and all those hundred days + of happiness in Richard’s company—Richard the considerate, the + strong, who had stood so by his honour in an hour of peril. + </p> + <p> + Now as she thought of it a hot wave shivered through all her body, and + tingled to her hair. Her face again dropped in her hands, and, as on that + other day, she knelt beside the cot, and, bursting into tears, said + through her sobs: “My baby, my own dear baby! Oh, that we could go away—away—and + never come back again!” + </p> + <p> + She did not know how intense her sobs were. They waked the child from its + delicate sleep; its blue eyes opened wide and wise all on the instant, its + round soft arm ran up to its mother’s neck, and it said: “Don’t c’y! I + want to s’eep wif you! I’se so s’eepy!” + </p> + <p> + She caught the child to her wet face, smiled at it through her tears, went + with it to her own bed, put it away in the deep whiteness, kissed it, and + fondled it away again into the heaven of sleep. When this was done she + felt calmer. How she hungered over it! This—this could not be denied + her. This, at least, was all hers, without clause or reservation, an + absolute love, and an absolute right. + </p> + <p> + She disrobed and drew in beside the child, and its little dewy cheek + touching her breast seemed to ease the ache in her soul. + </p> + <p> + But sleep would not come. All the past four years trooped by, with their + thousand incidents magnified in the sharp, throbbing light of her mind, + and at last she knew and saw clearly what was before her, what trials, + what duty, and what honour demanded—her honour. + </p> + <p> + Richard? Once for all she gently put him away from her into that infinite + distance of fine respect which a good woman can feel, who has known what + she and Richard had known—and set aside. But he had made for her so + high a standard, that for one to be measured thereby was a severe + challenge. + </p> + <p> + Could Frank come even to that measure? She dared not try to answer the + question. She feared, she shrank, she grew sick at heart. She did not + reckon with that other thing, that powerful, infinite influence which ties + a woman, she knows not how or why, to the man who led her to the world of + motherhood. Through all the wrongs which she may suffer by him, there runs + this cable of unhappy attraction, testified to by how many sorrowful + lives! + </p> + <p> + But Lali was trying to think it out, not only to feel, and she did not + count that subterranean force which must play its part in this new + situation in her drama of life. Could she love him? She crept away out of + the haven where her child was, put on her dressing-gown, went to the + window, and looked out upon the night, all unconscious that her husband + was looking at her from the Square below. Love him?—Love him?—Love + him? Could she? Did he love her? Her eyes wandered over the Square. + Nowhere else was there a light, but a chimney-flue was creaking somewhere. + It jarred on her so that she shrank. Then all at once she smiled to think + how she had changed. Four years ago she could have slept amid the hammers + of a foundry. The noise ceased. Her eyes passed from the cloud of trees in + the Square to the sky-all stars, and restful deep blue. That—that + was the same. How she knew it! Orion and Ashtaroth, and Mars and the + Pleiades, and the long trail of the Milky Way. As a little child hanging + in the trees, or sprawled beside a tepee, she had made friends with them + all, even as she learned and loved all the signs of the earth beneath—the + twist of a blade of grass, the portent in the cry of a river-hen, the + colour of a star, the smell of a wind. She had known Nature then, now she + knew men. And knowing them, and having suffered, and sick at heart as she + was, standing by this window in the dead of night, the cry that shook her + softly was not of her new life, but of the old, primitive, child-like. + </p> + <p> + ‘Pasagathe, omarki kethose kolokani vorgantha pestorondikat Oni.’ + </p> + <p> + “A spear hath pierced me, and the smart of the nettle is in my wound. + Maker of the soft night, bind my wounds with sleep, lest I cry out and be + a coward and unworthy.” + </p> + <p> + Again and again, unconsciously, the words passed from her lips + </p> + <p> + ‘Vorganthe, pestorondikat Oni.’ + </p> + <p> + At last she let down the blind, came to the bed, and once more gathered + her child in her arms with an infinite hunger. This love was hers—rich, + untrammelled, and so sacred. No matter what came, and she did not know + what would come, she had the child. There was a kind of ecstasy in it, and + she lay and trembled with the feeling, but at last fell into a troubled + sleep. + </p> + <p> + She waked suddenly to hear footsteps passing her door. She listened. One + footstep was heavier than the other—heavier and a little stumbling; + she recognised them, Frank and Richard. In that moment her heart hardened. + Frank Armour must tread a difficult road. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0011" id="link2HCH0011"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XI. UPON THE HIGHWAY + </h2> + <p> + Frank visited the child in the morning, and was received with a casual + interest. Richard Joseph Armour was fastidious, was not to be won at the + grand gallop. Besides, he had just had a visit from his uncle, and the + good taste of that gay time was yet in his mouth. He did not resent the + embraces, but he did not respond to them, and he straightened himself with + relief when the assault was over. Some one was paying homage to him, that + was all he knew; but for his own satisfaction and pleasure he preferred as + yet his old comrades, Edward Lambert, Captain Vidall, General Armour, and, + above all, Richard. He only showed real interest at the last, when he + asked, as it were in compromise, if his father would give him a sword. No + one had ever talked to him of his father, and he had no instinct for him + so far as could be seen. The sword was, therefore, after the manner of a + concession. Frank rashly promised it, and was promptly told by Marion that + it couldn’t be; and she was backed by Captain Vidall, who said it had + already been tabooed, and Frank wasn’t to come in and ask for favours or + expect them. + </p> + <p> + The husband and wife met at breakfast. He was down first. When his wife + entered, he came to her, they touched hands, and she presently took a seat + beside him. More than once he paused suddenly in his eating, when he + thought of his inexplicable case. He was now face to face with a reversed + situation. He had once picked up a pebble from the brown dirt of a + prairie, that he might toss it into the pool of this home life; and he had + tossed it, and from the sweet bath there had come out a precious stone, + which he longed to wear, and knew that he could not—not yet. He + could have coerced a lower being, but for his manhood’s sake—he had + risen to that now, it is curious how the dignity of fatherhood helps to + make a man—he could not coerce here, and if he did, he knew that the + product would be disaster. + </p> + <p> + He listened to her talk with Marion and Captain Vidall. Her voice was + musical, balanced, her language breathed; it had manner, and an + indescribable cadence of intelligence, joined to a deliberation, which + touched her off with distinction. When she spoke to him—and she + seemed to do that as by studied intention and with tact at certain + intervals—her manner was composed and kind. She had resolved on her + part. She asked him about his journey over, about his plans for the day, + and if he had decided to ride with her in the Park,—he could have + the general’s mount, she was sure, for the general was not going that day,—and + would he mind doing a little errand for her afterwards in Regent Street, + for the child—she feared she herself would not have time? + </p> + <p> + Just then General Armour entered, and, passing behind her, kissed her on + the cheek, dropping his hand on Frank’s shoulder at the same time with a + hearty greeting. Of course, Frank could have his mount, he said. Mrs. + Armour did not come down, but she sent word by Richard, who entered last, + that she would be glad to see Frank for a moment before he left for the + Park. As of old, Richard took both Lali’s hands in his, patted them, and + cheerily said: + </p> + <p> + “Well, well, Lali, we’ve got the wild man home again safe and sound, + haven’t we—the same old vagabond? We’ll have to turn him into a + Christian again—‘For while the lamp holds out to burn’—” + </p> + <p> + He did not give her time to reply, but their eyes met honestly, kindly, + and from the look they both passed into life and time again with a fresh + courage. She did not know, nor did he, how near they had been to an abyss; + and neither ever knew. One furtive glance at the moment, one hesitating + pressure of the hand, one movement of the head from each other’s gaze, and + there had been unhappiness for them all. But they were safe. + </p> + <p> + In the Park, Frank and his wife talked little. They met many who greeted + them cordially, and numbers of Frank’s old club friends summoned him to + the sacred fires at his earliest opportunity. The two talked chiefly of + the people they met, and Frank thrilled with admiration at his wife’s + gentle judgment of everybody. + </p> + <p> + “The true thing, absolutely the true thing,” he said; and he was + conscious, too, that her instincts were right and searching, for once or + twice he saw her face chill a little when they met one or two men whose + reputations as chevaliers des dames were pronounced. These men had had one + or two confusing minutes with Lali in their time. + </p> + <p> + “How splendidly you ride!” he said, as he came up swiftly to her, after + having chatted for a moment with Edward Lambert. “You sit like wax, and so + entirely easy.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you,” she said. “I suppose I really like it too well to ride badly, + and then I began young on horses not so good as Musket here—bareback, + too!” she added, with a little soft irony. + </p> + <p> + He thought—she did not, however—that she was referring to that + first letter he sent home to his people, when he consigned her, like any + other awkward freight, to their care. He flushed to his eyes. It cut him + deep, but her eyes only had a distant, dreamy look which conveyed nothing + of the sting in her words. Like most men, he had a touch of vanity too, + and he might have resented the words vaguely, had he not remembered his + talk with his mother an hour before. + </p> + <p> + She had begged him to have patience, she had made him promise that he + would not in any circumstance say an ungentle or bitter thing, that he + would bide the effort of constant devotion, and his love of the child. + Especially must he try to reach her through love of the child. + </p> + <p> + By which it will be seen that Mrs. Armour had come to some wisdom by + reason of her love for Frank’s wife and child. + </p> + <p> + “My son,” she had said, “through the child is the surest way, believe me; + for only a mother can understand what that means, how much and how far it + goes. You are a father, but until last night you never had the flush of + that love in your veins. You stand yet only at the door of that life which + has done more to guide, save, instruct, and deepen your wife’s life than + anything else, though your brother Richard—to whom you owe a debt + that you can never repay—has done much in deed. Be wise, my dear, as + I have learned a little to be since first your wife came. All might easily + have gone wrong. It has all gone well; and we, my son, have tried to do + our duty lovingly, consistently, to dear Lali and the child.” + </p> + <p> + She made him promise that he would wait, that he would not try to hurry + his wife’s affection for him by any spoken or insistent claim. “For, Frank + dear,” she said, “you are only legally married, not morally, not as God + can bless—not yet. But I pray that what will sanctify all may come + soon, very soon, to the joy of us all. But again—and I cannot say it + too prayerfully—do not force one little claim that your marriage + gave you, but prove yourself to her, who has cause to distrust you so + much. Will you forgive your mother, my dear, for speaking to you?” + </p> + <p> + He had told her then that what she had asked he had intended as his own + course, yet what she had said would keep it in his mind always, for he was + sure it was right. Mrs. Armour had then embraced him, and they parted. + Dealing with Lali had taught them all much of the human heart that they + had never known before, and the result thereof was wisdom. + </p> + <p> + They talked casually enough for the rest of the ride, and before they + parted at the door Frank received his commission for Regent Street, and + accepted it with delight, as a schoolboy might a gift. He was absurdly + grateful for any favours from her, any sign of her companionship. They met + at luncheon; then, because Lali had to keep an engagement in Eaton Square, + they parted again, and Frank and Richard took a walk, after a long hour + with the child, who still so hungered for his sword that Frank disobeyed + orders, and dragged Richard off to Oxford Street to get one. He was + reduced to a beatific attitude of submission, for he knew that he had few + odds with him now, and that he must live by virtue of new virtues. He was + no longer proud of himself in any way, and he knew that no one else was, + or rather he felt so, and that was just the same. + </p> + <p> + He talked of the boy, he talked of his wife, he laid plans, he tore them + down, he built them up again, he asked advice, he did not wait to hear it, + but rambled on, excited, eager. Truth is, there had suddenly been lifted + from his mind the dread and shadow of four years. Wherever he had gone, + whatever he had been or done, that dread shadow had followed him, and now + to know that instead of having to endure a hell he had to win a heaven, + and to feel as if his brain had been opened and a mass of vapours and + naughty little mannikins of remorse had been let out, was a trifle + intoxicating even to a man of his usual vigour and early acquaintance with + exciting things. + </p> + <p> + “Dick, Dick!” he said enthusiastically, “you’ve been royal. You always + were better than any chap I ever knew. You’re always doing for others. + Hang it, Dick, where does your fun come in? Nobody seems ever to do + anything for you.” + </p> + <p> + Richard gave his arm a squeeze. “Never mind about me, boy. I’ve had all + the fun I want, and all I’m likely to get, and so long as you’re all + willing to have me around, I’m satisfied. There’s always a lot to do among + the people in the village, one way and another, and I’ve a heap of reading + on, and what more does a fellow want?” + </p> + <p> + “You didn’t always feel that way, Dick?” + </p> + <p> + “No. You see, at different times in life you want different kinds of + pleasures. I’ve had a good many kinds, and the present kind is about as + satisfactory as any.” + </p> + <p> + “But, Dick, you ought to get married. You’ve got coin, you’ve got sense, + you’re a bit distinguished-looking, and I’ll back your heart against a + thousand bishops. You’ve never been in danger of making a fool of yourself + as I have. Why didn’t you—why don’t you—get married?” + </p> + <p> + Richard patted his brother’s shoulder. + </p> + <p> + “Married, boy? Married? I’ve got too much on my hands. I’ve got to bring + you up yet. And when that’s done I shall have to write a book called ‘How + to bring up a Parent.’ Then I’ve got to help bring your boy up, as I’ve + done these last three years and more. I’ve got to think of that boy for a + long while yet, for I know him better than you do, and I shall need some + of my coin to carry out my plans.” + </p> + <p> + “God bless you, Dick! Bring me up as you will, only bring her along too; + and as for the boy, you’re far more his father than I am. And mother says + that it’s you that’s given me the wife I’ve got now—so what can I + say?—what can I say?” + </p> + <p> + It was the middle of the Green Park, and Richard turned and clasped Frank + by both shoulders. + </p> + <p> + “Say? Say that you’ll stand by the thing you swore to one mad day in the + West as well as any man that ever lived—‘to have and to hold, to + love and to cherish from this day forth till death us do part, Amen.’” + </p> + <p> + Richard’s voice was low and full of a strange, searching something. + </p> + <p> + Frank, wondering at this great affection and fondness of his brother, + looked him in the eyes warmly, solemnly, and replied: “For richer or for + poorer, for better or for worse, in sickness and in health—so help + me God, and her kindness and forgiveness!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0012" id="link2HCH0012"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XII. “THE CHASE OF THE YELLOW SWAN” + </h2> + <p> + Frank and Lali did not meet until dinner was announced. The conversation + at dinner was mainly upon the return to Greyhope, which was fixed for the + following morning, and it was deftly kept gay and superficial by Marion + and Richard and Captain Vidall, until General Armour became reminiscent, + and held the interest of the table through a dozen little incidents of + camp and barrack life until the ladies rose. There had been an engagement + for late in the evening, but it had been given up because of Frank’s + home-coming, and there was to be a family gathering merely—for + Captain Vidall was now as much one of the family as Frank or Richard, by + virtue of his approaching marriage with Marion. The men left alone, + General Armour questioned Frank freely about life in the Hudson’s Bay + country, and the conversation ran on idly till it was time to join the + ladies. + </p> + <p> + When they reached the drawing-room, Marion was seated at the piano, + playing a rhapsody of Raff’s, and Mrs. Armour and Lali were seated side by + side. Frank thrilled at seeing his wife’s hand in his mother’s. Marion + nodded over the piano at the men, and presently played a snatch of Carmen, + then wandered off into the barbaric strength of Tannhauser, and as + suddenly again into the ballet music of Faust. + </p> + <p> + “Why so wilful, my girl?” asked her father, who had a keen taste for + music. “Why this tangle? Let us have something definite.” + </p> + <p> + Marion sprang up from the piano. “I can’t. I’m not definite myself + to-night.” Then, turning to Lali: “Lali dear, sing something—do! + Sing my favourite, ‘The Chase of the Yellow Swan.’” + </p> + <p> + This was a song which in the later days at Greyhope, Lali had sung for + Marion, first in her own language, with the few notes of an Indian chant, + and afterwards, by the help of the celebrated musician who had taught her + both music and singing, both of which she had learned but slowly, it was + translated and set to music. Lali looked Marion steadily in the eyes for a + moment and then rose. It cost her something to do this thing, for while + she had often talked much and long with Richard about that old life, it + now seemed as if she were to sing it to one who would not quite understand + why she should sing it at all, or what was her real attitude towards her + past—that she looked upon it from the infinite distance of + affectionate pity, knowledge, and indescribable change, and yet loved the + inspiring atmosphere and mystery of that lonely North, which once in the + veins never leaves it—never. Would he understand that she was + feeling, not the common detail of the lodge and the camp-fire and the + Company’s post, but the deep spirit of Nature, filtering through the + senses in a thousand ways—the wild ducks’ flight, the sweet smell of + the balsam, the exquisite gallop of the deer, the powder of the frost, the + sun and snow and blue plains of water, the thrilling eternity of plain and + the splendid steps of the hills, which led away by stair and entresol to + the Kimash Hills, the Hills of the Mighty Men? + </p> + <p> + She did not know what he would think, and again on second thought she + determined to make him, by this song, contrast her as she was when he + married her, and now—how she herself could look upon that past + unabashed, speak of it without blushing, sing of it with pride, having + reached a point where she could look down and say: “This was the way by + which I came.” + </p> + <p> + She rose, and was accompanied to the piano by General Armour, Frank + admiring her soft, springing steps, her figure so girlish and lissom. She + paused for a little before she began. Her eyes showed for a moment over + the piano, deep, burning, in-looking; then they veiled; her fingers + touched the keys, wandered over them in a few strange, soft chords, + paused, wandered again, more firmly and very intimately, and then she + sang. Her voice was a good contralto, well balanced, true, of no great + range, but within its compass melodious, and having some inexpressible + charm of temperament. Frank did not need to strain his ears to hear the + words; every one came clear, searching, delicately valued: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “In the flash of the singing dawn, + At the door of the Great One, + The joy of his lodge knelt down, + Knelt down, and her hair in the sun + Shone like showering dust, + And her eyes were as eyes of the fawn. + And she cried to her lord, + ‘O my lord, O my life, + From the desert I come; + From the hills of the Dawn.’ + And he lifted the curtain and said, + ‘Hast thou seen It, the Yellow Swan?’ + + “And she lifted her head, and her eyes + Were as lights in the dark, + And her hands folded slow on her breast, + And her face was as one who has seen + The gods and the place where they dwell; + And she said: ‘Is it meet that I kneel, + That I kneel as I speak to my lord?’ + And he answered her: ‘Nay, but to stand, + And to sit by my side; + But speak, thou hast followed the trail, + Hast thou found It, the Yellow Swan?’ + + “And she stood as a queen, and her voice + Was as one who hath seen the Hills, + The Hills of the Mighty Men, + And hath heard them cry in the night, + Hath heard them call in the dawn, + Hath seen It, the Yellow Swan. + And she said: ‘It is not for my lord;’ + And she murmured, ‘I cannot tell, + But my lord must go as I went, + And my lord must come as I came, + And my lord shall be wise.’ + + “And he cried in his wrath, + ‘What is thine, it is mine, + And thine eyes are my eyes + Thou shalt speak of the Yellow Swan!’ + But she answered him: ‘Nay, though I die. + I have lain in the nest of the Swan, + I have heard, I have known; + When thine eyes too have seen, + When thine ears too have heard, + Thou shalt do with me then as thou wilt!’ + + “And he lifted his hand to strike, + And he straightened his spear to slay, + But a great light struck on his eyes, + And he heard the rushing of wings, + And his long spear fell from his hand, + And a terrible stillness came. + And when the spell passed from his eyes, + He stood in his doorway alone, + And gone was the queen of his soul, + And gone was the Yellow Swan.” + </pre> + <p> + Frank Armour listened as in a dream. The song had the wild swing of savage + life, the deep sweetness of a monotone, but it had also the fine + intelligence, the subtle allusiveness of romance. He could read between + the lines. The allegory touched him where his nerves were sensitive. Where + she had gone he could not go until his eyes had seen and known what hers + had seen and known; he could not grasp his happiness all in a moment; she + was no longer at his feet, but equal with him, and wiser than he. She had + not meant the song to be allusive when she began, but to speak to him + through it by singing the heathen song as his own sister might sing it. As + the song went on, however, she felt the inherent suggestion in it, so that + when she had finished it required all her strength to get up calmly, come + among them again, and listen to their praises and thanks. She had no + particular wish to be alone with Frank just yet, but the others soon + arranged themselves so that the husband and wife were left in a cosey + corner of the room. + </p> + <p> + Lali’s heart fluttered a little at first, for the day had been trying, and + she was not as strong as she could wish. Admirably as she had gone through + the season, it had worn on her, and her constitution had become sensitive + and delicate, while yet strong. The life had almost refined her too much. + Always on the watch that she should do exactly as Marion or Mrs. Armour, + always so sensitive as to what was required of her, always preparing for + this very time, now that it had come, and her heart and mind were strong, + her body seemed to weaken. Once or twice during the day she had felt a + little faint, but it had passed off, and she had scolded herself. She did + not wish a serious talk with her husband to-night, but she saw now that it + was inevitable. + </p> + <p> + He said to her as he sat down beside her: “You sing very well indeed. The + song is full of meaning, and you bring it all out.” + </p> + <p> + “I am glad you like it,” she responded conventionally. “Of course it’s an + unusual song for an English drawing-room.” + </p> + <p> + “As you sing it, it would be beautiful and acceptable anywhere, Lali.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you again,” she answered, closing and unclosing her fan, her eyes + wandering to where Mrs. Armour was. She wished she could escape, for she + did not feel like talking, and yet though the man was her husband she + could not say that she was too tired to talk; she must be polite. Then, + with a little dainty malice: “It is more interesting, though, in the + vernacular—and costume!” + </p> + <p> + “Not unless you sang it so,” he answered gallantly, and with a kind of + earnestness. + </p> + <p> + “You have not forgotten the way of London men,” she rejoined. + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps that is well, for I do not know the way of women,” he said, with + a faint bitterness. “Yet, I don’t speak unadvisedly in this,”—here + he meant to be a little bold and bring the talk to the past,—“for I + heard you sing that song once before.” + </p> + <p> + She turned on him half puzzled, a little nervous. “Where did you hear me + sing it?” + </p> + <p> + He had made up his mind, wisely enough, to speak with much openness and + some tact also, if possible. “It was on the Glow Worm River at the Clip + Claw Hills. I came into your father’s camp one evening in the autumn, + hungry and tired and knocked about. I was given the next tent to yours. It + was night, and just before I turned in I heard your voice singing. I + couldn’t understand much of the language, but I had the sense of it, and I + know it when I hear it again.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I remember singing it that night,” she said. “Next day was the Feast + of the Yellow Swan.” + </p> + <p> + Her eyes presently became dreamy, and her face took on a distant, rapt + look. She sat looking straight before her for a moment. + </p> + <p> + He did not speak, for he interpreted the look aright, and he was going to + be patient, to wait. + </p> + <p> + “Tell me of my father,” she said. “You have been kind to him?” + </p> + <p> + He winced a little. “When I left Fort Charles he was very well,” he said, + “and he asked me to tell you to come some day. He also has sent you a + half-dozen silver-fox skins, a sash, and moccasins made by his own hands. + The things are not yet unpacked.” + </p> + <p> + Moccasins?—She remembered when last she had moccasins on her feet—the + day she rode the horse at the quick-set hedge, and nearly lost her life. + How very distant that all was, and yet how near too! Suddenly she + remembered also why she took that mad ride, and her heart hardened a + little. + </p> + <p> + “You have been kind to my father since I left?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + He met her eyes steadily. “No, not always; not more than I have been kind + to you. But at the last, yes.” Suddenly his voice became intensely direct + and honest. “Lali,” he continued, “there is much that I want to say to + you.” She waved her hand in a wearied fashion. “I want to tell you that I + would do the hardest penance if I could wipe out these last four years.” + </p> + <p> + “Penance?” she said dreamily—“penance? What guarantee of happiness + would that be? One would not wish another to do penance if—” + </p> + <p> + She paused. + </p> + <p> + “I understand,” he said—“if one cared—if one loved. Yes, I + understand. But that does not alter the force or meaning of the wish. I + swear to you that I repent with all my heart—the first wrong to you, + the long absence—the neglect—everything.” + </p> + <p> + She turned slowly to him. “Everything-Everything?” she repeated after him. + “Do you understand what that means? Do you know a woman’s heart? No. Do + you know what a shameful neglect is at the most pitiful time in your life? + No. How can a man know! He has a thousand things—the woman has + nothing, nothing at all except the refuge of home, that for which she gave + up everything!” + </p> + <p> + Presently she broke off, and something sprang up and caught her in the + throat. Years of indignation were at work in her. “I have had a home,” she + said, in a low, thrilling voice—“a good home; but what did that cost + you? Not one honest sentiment of pity, kindness, or solicitude. You + clothed me, fed me, abandoned me, as—how can one say it? Do I not + know, if coming back you had found me as you expected to find me, what the + result would have been? Do I not know? You would have endured me if I did + not thrust myself upon you, for you have after all a sense of legal duty, + a kind of stubborn honour. But you would have made my life such that some + day one or both of us would have died suddenly. For”—she looked him + with a hot clearness in the eyes—“for there is just so much that a + woman can bear. I wish this talk had not come now, but, since it has come, + it is better to speak plainly. You see, you misunderstand. A heathen has a + heart as another—has a life to be spoiled or made happy as another. + Had there been one honest passion in your treatment of me—in your + marrying me—there would be something on which to base mutual + respect, which is more or less necessary when one is expected to love. But—but + I will not speak more of it, for it chokes me, the insult to me, not as I + was, but as I am. Then it would probably have driven me mad, if I had + known; now it eats into my life like rust.” + </p> + <p> + He made a motion as if to take her hands, but lifting them away quietly + she said: “You forget that there are others present, as well as the fact + that we can talk better without demonstration.” + </p> + <p> + He was about to speak, but she stopped him. “No, wait,” she said; “for I + want to say a little more. I was only an Indian girl, but you must + remember that I had also in my veins good white blood, Scotch blood. + Perhaps it was that which drew me to you then—for Lali the Indian + girl loved you. Life had been to me pleasant enough—without care, + without misery, open, strong and free; our people were not as those others + which had learned the white man’s vices. We loved the hunt, the + camp-fires, the sacred feasts, the legends of the Mighty Men; and the + earth was a good friend, whom we knew as the child knows its mother.” + </p> + <p> + She paused. Something seemed to arrest her attention. Frank followed her + eyes. She was watching Captain Vidall and Marion. He guessed what she was + thinking—how different her own wooing had been from theirs, how + concerning her courtship she had not one sweet memory—the thing that + keeps alive more love and loyalty in this world than anything else. + Presently General Armour joined them, and Frank’s opportunity was over for + the present. + </p> + <p> + Captain Vidall and Marion were engaged in a very earnest conversation, + though it might not appear so to observers. + </p> + <p> + “Come, now, Marion,” he said protestingly, “don’t be impossible. Please + give the day a name. Don’t you think we’ve waited about long enough?” + </p> + <p> + “There was a man in the Bible who served seven years.” + </p> + <p> + “I’ve served over three in India since I met you at the well, and that + counts double. Why so particular to a day? It’s a bit Jewish. Anyhow, that + seven years was rough on Rachel.” + </p> + <p> + “How, Hume? Because she got passee?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, that counted; but do you suppose that Jew was going to put in those + seven years without interest? Don’t you believe it. Rachel paid capital + and interest back, or Jacob was no Jew. Tell me, Marion, when shall it + be?” + </p> + <p> + “Hume, for a man who has trifled away years in India, you are strangely + impatient.” + </p> + <p> + “Mrs. Lambert says that I have the sweetest disposition.” + </p> + <p> + “My dear sir!” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t look at me like that at this distance, or I shall have to wear + goggles, as the man did who went courting the Sun.” + </p> + <p> + “How supremely ridiculous you are! And I thought you such a sensible, + serious man.” + </p> + <p> + “Mrs. Lambert put that in your head. We used to meet at the annual dinners + of the Bible Society.” + </p> + <p> + “Why do you tell me such stuff?” + </p> + <p> + “It’s a fact. Her father and my aunt were in that swim, and we were + sympathisers.” + </p> + <p> + “Mercenary people!” + </p> + <p> + “It worked very well in her case; not so well in mine. But we conceived a + profound respect for each other then. But tell me, Marion, when is it to + be? Why put off the inevitable?” + </p> + <p> + “It isn’t inevitable—and I’m only twenty-three.” + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Only twenty-three, + And as good fish in the sea” + </pre> + <p> + he responded, laughing. “Yes, but you’ve set the precedent for a courtship + of four years and a bit, and what man could face it?” + </p> + <p> + “You did.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but I wasn’t advertised of the fact beforehand. Suppose I had seen + the notice at the start: ‘This mortgage cannot be raised inside of four + years—and a bit!’ There’s a limit to human endurance.” + </p> + <p> + “Why shouldn’t I hold to the number, but alter the years to days?” + </p> + <p> + “You wouldn’t dare. A woman must live up to her reputation.” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed? What an ambition!” + </p> + <p> + “And a man to his manners.” + </p> + <p> + “An unknown quantity.” + </p> + <p> + “And a lover to his promises.” + </p> + <p> + “A book of jokes.” Marion had developed a taste for satire. + </p> + <p> + “Which reminds me of Lady Halwood and Mrs. Lambert. Lady Halwood was more + impertinent than usual the other day at the Sinclairs’ show, and had a + little fling at Mrs. Lambert. The talk turned on gowns. Lady Halwood was + much interested at once. She has a weakness that way. ‘Why,’ said she, ‘I + like these fashions this year, but I’m not sure that they suit me. They’re + the same as when the Queen came to the throne.’ ‘Well,’ said Mrs. Lambert + sweetly, ‘if they suited you then—’ There was an audible titter, and + Mrs. Lambert had an enemy for life.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t see the point of your story in this connection.” + </p> + <p> + “No? Well, it was merely to suggest that if you had to live up to this + scheme of four-years’ probation, other people besides lovers would make up + books of jokes, and—” + </p> + <p> + “That’s like a man—to threaten.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I threaten—on my knees.” + </p> + <p> + “Hume, how long do you think Frank will have to wait?” + </p> + <p> + They were sitting where they had a good view of the husband and wife, and + Vidall, after a moment, said: “I don’t know. She has waited four years, + too; now it looks as if, like Jacob, she was going to gather in her + shekels of interest compounded.” + </p> + <p> + “It isn’t going to be a bit pleasant to watch.” + </p> + <p> + “But you won’t be here to see.” + </p> + <p> + Marion ignored the suggestion. “She seems to have hardened since he came + yesterday. I hardly know her; and yet she looks awfully worn to-night, + don’t you think?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, as if she had to keep a hand on herself. But it’ll come out all + right in the end, you’ll see.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, of course; but she might be sensible and fall in love with Frank at + once. That’s what she did when—” + </p> + <p> + “When she didn’t know man.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but where would you all be if we women acted on what we know of + you?” + </p> + <p> + “On our knees chiefly, as I am. Remember this, Marion, that half a sinner + is better than no man.” + </p> + <p> + “You mean that no man is better than half a saint?” + </p> + <p> + “How you must admire me!” + </p> + <p> + “Why?” + </p> + <p> + “As you are about to name the day, I assume that I’m a whole saint in your + eyes.” + </p> + <p> + “St. Augustine!” + </p> + <p> + “Who was he?” + </p> + <p> + “A man that reformed.” + </p> + <p> + “Before or after marriage?” + </p> + <p> + “Before, I suppose.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t think he died happy.” + </p> + <p> + “Why not?” + </p> + <p> + “I’ve a faint recollection that he was boiled.” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t be horrid. What has that to do with it?” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing, perhaps. But he probably broke out again after marriage, and + sank at last into that caldron. That’s what it means by being-steeped in + crime.” + </p> + <p> + “How utterly nonsensical you are!” + </p> + <p> + “I feel light-headed. You’ve been at sea, on a yacht becalmed, haven’t + you? when along comes a groundswell, and as you rock in the sun there + comes trouble, and your head goes round like a top? Now, that’s my case. + I’ve been becalmed four years, and while I pray for a little wind to take + me—home, you rock me in the trough of uncertainty. Suspense is very + gall and wormwood. You know what the jailer said to the criminal who was + hanging on a reprieve: ‘Rope deferred maketh the heart sick.’ Marion, give + me the hour, or give me the rope.” + </p> + <p> + “The rope enough to hang yourself?” + </p> + <p> + She suddenly reached up and pulled a hair from her head. She laid it in + his hand-a long brown silken thread. “Hume,” she said airily yet gently, + “there is the rope. Can you love me for a month of Sundays?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, for ever and a day!” + </p> + <p> + “I will cancel the day, and take your bond for the rest. I will be + generous. I will marry you in two months-and a day.” + </p> + <p> + “My dearest girl!”—he drew her hand into both of his—“I can’t + have you more generous than myself, I’ll throw off the month.” But his + eyes were shining very seriously, though his mouth smiled. + </p> + <p> + “Two months and a day,” she repeated. + </p> + <p> + “We must all bundle off to Greyhope to-morrow,” came General Armour’s + voice across the room. “Down comes the baby, cradle and all.” + </p> + <p> + Lali rose. “I am very tired,” she said; “I think I will say good-night.” + </p> + <p> + “I’ll go and see the boy with you,” Frank said, rising also. + </p> + <p> + Lali turned towards Marion. Marion’s face was flushed, and had a sweet, + happy confusion. With a low, trembling good-night to Captain Vidall, a + hurried kiss on her mother’s cheek, and a tip-toed caress on her father’s + head, she ran and linked her arm in Lali’s, and together they proceeded to + the child’s room. Richard was there when they arrived, mending a broken + toy. Two hours later, the brothers parted at Frank’s door. + </p> + <p> + “Reaping the whirlwind, Dick?” Frank said, dropping his hand on his + brother’s arm. + </p> + <p> + Richard pointed to the child’s room. + </p> + <p> + “Nonsense! Do you want all the world at once? You are reaping the + forgiveness of your sins.” Somehow Richard’s voice was a little stern. + </p> + <p> + “I was thinking of my devilry, Dick. That’s the whirlwind—here!” His + hand dropped on his breast. + </p> + <p> + “That’s where it ought to be. Good-night.” + </p> + <p> + “Good-night.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0013" id="link2HCH0013"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIII. A LIVING POEM + </h2> + <p> + Part of Frank’s most trying interview, next to the meeting with his wife, + was that with Mackenzie, who had been his special commissioner in the + movement of his masquerade. Mackenzie also had learned a great deal since + she had brought Lali—home. She, like others, had come to care truly + for the sweet barbarian, and served her with a grim kind of reverence. + Just in proportion as this had increased, her respect for Frank had + decreased. No man can keep a front of dignity in the face of an unbecoming + action. However, Mackenzie had her moment, and when it was over, the new + life began at no general disadvantage to Frank. To all save the immediate + family Frank and Lali were a companionable husband and wife. She rode with + him, occasionally walked with him, now and again sang to him, and they + appeared in the streets of St. Albans and at the Abbey together, and + oftener still in the village church near, where the Armours of many + generations were proclaimed of much account in the solid virtues of tomb + and tablet. + </p> + <p> + The day had gone by when Lali attracted any especial notice among the + villagers, and she enjoyed the quiet beauty and earnestness of the + service. But she received a shock one Sunday. She had been nervous all the + week, she could not tell why, and others remarked how her face had taken + on a new sensitiveness, a delicate anxiety, and that her strength was not + what it had been. As, for instance, after riding she required to rest, a + thing before unknown, and she often lay down for an hour before dinner. + Then, too, at table once she grew suddenly pale and swayed against Edward + Lambert, who was sitting next to her. She would not, however, leave the + table, but sat the dinner out, to Frank’s apprehension. He was devoted, + but it was clear to Marion and her mother at least that his attentions + were trying to her. They seemed to put her under an obligation which to + meet was a trial. There is nothing more wearing to a woman than + affectionate attentions from a man who has claims upon her, but whom she + does not love. These same attentions from one who has no claims give her a + thrill of pleasure. It is useless to ask for justice in such a matter. + These things are governed by no law; and rightly so, else the world would + be in good time a loveless multitude, held together only by the hungering + ties of parent and child. + </p> + <p> + But this Sunday wherein Lali received a shock. She did not know that the + banns for Marion’s and Captain Vidall’s marriage were to be announced, and + at the time her thoughts were far away. She was recalled to herself by the + clergyman’s voice pronouncing their names, and saying: “If any of you do + know cause or just impediment why these two people should not be joined + together in the bonds of holy matrimony, ye are to declare it.” All at + once there came back to her her own marriage when the Protestant + missionary, in his nasal monotone, mumbled these very words, not as if he + expected that any human being would, or could, offer objection. + </p> + <p> + She almost sprang from her seat now. Her nerves all at once came to such a + tension that she could have cried out. Why had there been no one there at + her marriage to say: “I forbid it”? How shameful it had all been! And the + first kiss her husband had given her had the flavour of brandy! If she + could but turn back the hands upon the clock of Time! Under the influence + of the music and the excited condition of her nerves, the event became + magnified, distorted; it burned into her brain. It was not made less + poignant by the sermon from the text: “Mene, Mene, Tekel, Upharsin.” When + the words were first announced in the original, it sounded like her own + language, save that it was softer, and her heart throbbed fast. Then came + the interpretation: “Thou art weighed in the balance and found wanting.” + </p> + <p> + Then suddenly swept over her a new feeling, one she had never felt before. + Up to this point a determination to justify her child, to reverse the + verdict of the world, to turn her husband’s sin upon himself, had made her + defiant, even bitter; in all things eager to live up to her new life, to + the standard that Richard had by manner and suggestion, rather than by + words, laid down for her. But now there came in upon her a flood of + despair. At best she was only of this race through one-third of her + parentage, and education and refinement and all things could do no more + than make her possible. There must always be in the record: “She was of a + strange people. She was born in a wigwam.” She did not know that failing + health was really the cause of this lapse of self-confidence, this growing + self-depreciation, this languor for which she could not account. She found + that she could not toss the child and frolic with it as she had done; she + was conscious that within a month there had stolen upon her the desire to + be much alone, to avoid noises and bustle—it irritated her. She + found herself thinking more and more of her father, her father to whom she + had never written one line since she had left the North. She had had good + reasons for not writing—writing could do no good whatever, + particularly to a man who could not read, and who would not have + understood her new life if he had read. Yet now she seemed not to know why + she had not written, and to blame herself for neglect and forgetfulness. + It weighed on her. Why had she ever been taken from the place of + tamarack-trees and the sweeping prairie grass? No, no, she was not, after + all, fit for this life. She had been mistaken, and Richard had been + mistaken—Richard, who was so wise. The London season? Ah! that was + because people had found a novelty, and herself of better manners than had + been expected. + </p> + <p> + The house was now full of preparations for the wedding. It stared her in + the face every day, almost every hour. Dressmakers, milliners, tailors, + and all those other necessary people. Did the others think what all this + meant to her? It was impossible that they should. When Marion came back + from town at night and told of her trials among the dressmakers, when she + asked the general opinion and sometimes individual judgment, she could not + know that it was at the expense of Lali’s nerves. + </p> + <p> + Lali, when she married, had changed her moccasins, combed her hair, and + put on a fine red belt, and that was all. She was not envious now, not at + all. But somehow it all was a deadly kind of evidence against herself and + her marriage. Her reproach was public, the world knew it, and no woman can + forgive a public shame, even was it brought about by a man she loved, or + loves. Her chiefest property in life is her self-esteem and her name + before the world. Rob her of these, and her heaven has fallen, and if a + man has shifted the foundations of her peace, there is no forgiveness for + him till her Paradise has been reconquered. So busy were all the others + that they did not see how her strength was failing. There were three weeks + between the day the banns were announced and the day of the wedding, which + was to be in the village church, not in town; for, as Marion said, she had + seen too many marriages for one day’s triumph and criticism; she wanted + hers where there would be neither triumph nor criticism, but among people + who had known her from her childhood up. A happy romance had raised + Marion’s point of view. + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile Frank was winning the confidence of his own child, who, however, + ranked Richard higher always, and became to a degree his father’s tyrant. + But Frank’s nature was undergoing a change. His point of view also had + enlarged. The suffering, bitterness, and humiliation of his life in the + North had done him good. He was being disciplined to take his position as + a husband and father, but he sometimes grew heavy-hearted when he saw how + his attentions oppressed his wife, and had it not been for Richard he + might probably have brought on disaster, for the position was trying to + all concerned. A few days before the wedding Edward Lambert and his wife + arrived, and he, Captain Vidall, and Frank Armour took rides and walks + together, or set the world right in the billiard-room. Richard seldom + joined them, though their efforts to induce him to do so were many. He had + his pensioners, his books, his pipe, and “the boy,” and he had returned in + all respects, in so far as could be seen, to his old life, save for the + new and larger interest of his nephew. + </p> + <p> + One evening the three men with General Armour were all gathered in the + billiard-room. Conversation had been general and without particular force, + as it always is when merely civic or political matters are under view. But + some one gave a social twist to the talk, and presently they were launched + upon that sea where every man provides his own chart, or he is a very worm + and no man. Each man had been differently trained, each viewed life from a + different stand-point, and yet each had been brought up in the same social + atmosphere, in the same social sets, had imbibed the same traditions, been + moved generally by the same public considerations. + </p> + <p> + “But there’s little to be said for a man who doesn’t, outwardly at least, + live up to the social necessity,” said Lambert. + </p> + <p> + “And keep the Ten Commandments in the vulgar tongue,” rejoined Vidall. + </p> + <p> + “I’ve lived seventy-odd years, and I’ve knocked about a good deal in my + time,” said the general, “but I’ve never found that you could make a + breach of social necessity, as you call it, without paying for it one way + or another. The trouble with us when we’re young is that we want to get + more out of life than there really is in it. There is not much in it, + after all. You can stand just so much fighting, just so much work, just so + much emotion—and you can stand less emotion than anything else. I’m + sure more men and women break up from a hydrostatic pressure of emotion + than from anything else. Upon my soul, that’s so.” + </p> + <p> + “You are right, General,” said Lambert. “The steady way is the best way. + The world is a passable place, if a fellow has a decent income by + inheritance, or can earn a big one, but to be really contented to earn + money it must be a big one, otherwise he is far better pleased to take the + small inherited income. It has a lot of dignity, which the other can only + bring when it is large.” + </p> + <p> + “That’s only true in this country; it’s not true in America,” said Frank, + “for there the man who doesn’t earn money is looked upon as a muff, and is + treated as such. A small inherited income is thought to be a trifle + enervating. But there is a country of emotions, if you like. The American + heart is worn upon the American sleeve, and the American mind is the most + active thing in this world. That’s why they grow old so young.” + </p> + <p> + “I met a woman a year or so ago at dinner,” said Vidall, “who looked + forty. She looked it, and she acted it. She was younger than any woman + present, but she seemed older. There was a kind of hopeless languor about + her which struck me as pathetic. Yet she had been beautiful, and might + even have been so when I saw her, if it hadn’t been for that look. It was + the look of a person who had no interest in things. And the person who has + no interest in things is the person who once had a great deal of interest + in things, who had too passionate an interest. The revulsion is always + terrible. Too much romance is deadly. It is as false a stimulant as opium + or alcohol, and leaves a corresponding mark. Well, I heard her history. + She was married at fifteen—ran away to be married; and in spite of + the fact that a railway accident nearly took her husband from her on the + night of her marriage—one would have thought that would make a + strong bond—she was soon alive to the attentions that are given a + pretty and—considerate woman. At a ball at Naples, her husband, + having in vain tried to induce her to go home, picked her up under his arm + and carried her out of the ballroom. Then came a couple of years of + opium-eating, fierce social excitement, divorce, new marriage, and so on, + until her husband agreeably decided to live in Nice, while she lived + somewhere else. Four days after I had met her at the dinner I saw her + again. I could scarcely believe my eyes. The woman had changed completely. + She was young again-twenty-five, in face and carriage, in the eye and + hand, in step and voice.” + </p> + <p> + “Who was the man?” suggested Frank Armour. “A man about her own age, or a + little more, but who was an infant beside her in knowledge of the world.” + “She was in love with the fellow? It was a grande passion?” asked Lambert. + </p> + <p> + “In love with him? No, not at all. It was a momentary revival of an + old-possibility.” + </p> + <p> + “You mean that such women never really love?” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps once, Frank, but only after a fashion. The rest was mere + imitation of their first impulses.” + </p> + <p> + “And this woman?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, the end came sooner than I expected. I tell you I was shocked at + the look in her face when I saw it again. That light had flickered out; + the sensitive alertness of hand, eye, voice, and carriage had died away; + lines had settled in the face, and the face itself had gone cold, with + that hard, cold passiveness which comes from exhausted emotions and a + closed heart. The jewels she wore might have been put upon a statue with + equal effect.” + </p> + <p> + “It seems to me that we might pitch into men in these things and not make + women the dreadful examples,” said a voice from the corner. It was the + voice of Richard, who had but just entered. + </p> + <p> + “My dear Dick,” said his father, “men don’t make such frightful examples, + because these things mean less to men than they do to women. Romance is an + incident to a man; he can even come through an affaire with no ideals + gone, with his mental fineness unimpaired; but it is different with a + woman. She has more emotion than mind, else there were no cradles in the + land. Her standards are set by the rules of the heart, and when she has + broken these rules she has lost her standard too. But to come back, it is + true, I think, as I said, that man or woman must not expect too much out + of life, but be satisfied with what they can get within the normal courses + of society and convention and home, and the end thereof is peace—yes, + upon my soul, it’s peace.” + </p> + <p> + There was something very fine in the blunt, honest words of the old man, + whose name had ever been sweet with honour. + </p> + <p> + “And the chief thing is that a man live up to his own standard,” said + Lambert. “Isn’t that so, Dick?—you’re the wise man.” + </p> + <p> + “Every man should have laws of his own, I should think; commandments of + his own, for every man has a different set of circumstances wherein to + work—or worry.” + </p> + <p> + “The wisest man I ever knew,” said Frank, dropping his cigar, “was a + little French-Canadian trapper up in the Saskatchewan country. A priest + asked him one day what was the best thing in life, and he answered: ‘For a + young man’s mind to be old, and an old man’s heart to be young.’ The + priest asked him how that could be. And he said: ‘Good food, a good woman + to teach him when he is young, and a child to teach him when he is old.’ + Then the priest said: ‘What about the Church and the love of God?’ The + little man thought a little, and then said: ‘Well, it is the same—the + love of man and woman came first in the world, then the child, then God in + the garden.’ Afterwards he made a little speech of good-bye to us, for we + were going to the south while he remained in a fork of the Far Off River. + It was like some ancient blessing: that we should always have a safe tent + and no sorrow as we travelled; that we should always have a cache for our + food, and food for our cache; that we should never find a tree that would + not give sap, nor a field that would not grow grain; that our bees should + not freeze in winter, and that the honey should be thick, and the comb + break like snow in the teeth; that we keep hearts like the morning, and + that we come slow to the Four Corners where man says Good-night.” + </p> + <p> + Each of the other men present wondered at that instant if Frank Armour + would, or could, have said this with the same feelings two months before. + He seemed almost transformed. + </p> + <p> + “It reminds me,” said the general, “of an inscription from an Egyptian + monument which an officer of the First put into English verse for me years + ago: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Fair be the garden where their loves shall dwell, + Safe be the highway where their feet may go, + Rich be the fields wherein their hands may toil, + The fountains many where their good wines flow. + Full be their harvest-bins with corn and oil, + To sorrow may their humour be a foil; + Quick be their hearts all wise delights to know, + Tardy their footsteps to the gate Farewell.” + </pre> + <p> + There was a moment’s silence after he had finished, and then there was + noise without, a sound of pattering feet; the door flew open, and in ran a + little figure in white—young Richard in his bed-gown, who had broken + away from his nurse, and had made his way to the billiard-room, where he + knew his uncle had gone. + </p> + <p> + The child’s face was flashing with mischief and adventure. He ran in among + the group, and stretched out his hands with a little fighting air. His + uncle Richard made a step towards him, but he ran back; his father made as + if to take him in his arms, but he evaded him. Presently the door opened, + the nurse entered, the child sprang from among the group, and ran with a + laughing defiance to the farthest end of the room, and, leaning his chin + on the billiard-table, flashed a look of defiant humour at his pursuer. + Presently the door opened again, and the figure of the mother appeared. + All at once the child’s face altered; he stood perfectly still, and waited + for his mother to come to him. Lali had not spoken, and she did not speak + until, lifting the child, she came the length of the billiard-table and + faced them. + </p> + <p> + “I beg your pardon,” she said, “for intruding; but Richard has led us a + dance, and I suppose the mother may go where her child goes.” + </p> + <p> + “The mother and the child are always welcome wherever they go,” said + General Armour quietly. + </p> + <p> + All the men had risen to their feet, and they made a kind of semicircle + before her. The white-robed child had clasped its arms about her neck, and + nestled its face against hers, as if, with perfect satisfaction, it had + got to the end of its adventure; but the look of humour was still in the + eyes as they ran from Richard to his father and back again. + </p> + <p> + Frank Armour stepped forwards and took the child’s hand, as it rested on + the mother’s shoulder. Lali’s face underwent a slight change as her + husband’s fingers touched her neck. + </p> + <p> + “I must go,” she said. “I hope I have not broken up a serious conversation—or + were you not so serious after all?” she said, glancing archly at General + Armour. “We were talking of women,” said Lambert. + </p> + <p> + “The subject is wide,” replied Lali, “and the speakers many. One would + think some wisdom might be got in such a case.” + </p> + <p> + “Believe me, we were not trying to understand the subject,” said Captain + Vidall; “the most that a mere man can do is to appreciate it.” + </p> + <p> + “There are some things that are hidden from the struggling mind of man, + and are revealed unto babes and the mothers of babes,” said General Armour + gravely, as, reaching out his hands, he took the child from the mother’s + arms, kissed it full upon the lips, and added: “Men do not understand + women, because men’s minds have not been trained in the same school. When + once a man has mastered the very alphabet of motherhood, then he shall + have mastered the mind of woman; but I, at least, refuse to say that I do + not understand, from the stand-point of modern cynicism.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, General, General!” said Lambert, “we have lost the chivalric way of + saying things, which belongs to your generation.” + </p> + <p> + By this time the wife had reached the door. She turned and held out her + arms for the child. General Armour came and placed the boy where he had + found it, and, with eyes suddenly filling, laid both his hands upon Lali’s + and they clasped the child, and said: “It is worth while to have lived so + long and to have seen so much.” Her eyes met his in a wistful, anxious + expression, shifted to those of her husband, dropped to the cheeks of the + child, and with the whispered word, which no one, not even the general, + heard, she passed from the room, the nurse following her. + </p> + <p> + Perhaps some of the most striking contrasts are achieved in the least + melodramatic way. The sudden incursion of the child and its mother into + the group, the effect of their presence, and their soft departure, leaving + behind them, as it were, a trail of light, changed the whole atmosphere of + the room, as though some new life had been breathed into it, charged each + mind with new sensations, and gave each figure new attitude. Not a man + present but had had his full swing with the world, none worse than most + men, none better than most, save that each had latent in him a good sense + of honour concerning all civic and domestic virtues. They were not men of + sentimentality; they were not accustomed to exposing their hearts upon + their sleeve, but each, as the door closed, recognised that something for + one instant had come in among them, had made their past conversation to + appear meagre, crude, and lacking in both height and depth. Somehow, they + seemed to feel, although no words expressed the thought, that for an + instant they were in the presence of a wisdom greater than any wisdom of a + man’s smoking-room. + </p> + <p> + “It is wonderful, wonderful,” said the general slowly, and no man asked + him why he said it, or what was wonderful. But Richard, sitting apart, + watched Frank’s face acutely, himself wondering when the hour would come + that the wife would forgive her husband, and this situation so fraught + with danger would be relieved. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0014" id="link2HCH0014"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIV. ON THE EDGE OF A FUTURE + </h2> + <p> + At last the day of the wedding came, a beautiful September day, which may + be more beautiful in uncertain England than anywhere else. Lali had been + strangely quiet all the day before, and she had also seemed strangely + delicate. Perhaps, or perhaps not, she felt the crisis was approaching. It + is probable that when the mind has been strained for a long time, and the + heart and body suffered much, one sees a calamity vaguely, and cannot + define it; appreciates it, and does not know it. She came to Marion’s room + about a half-hour before they were to start for the church. Marion was + already dressed and ready, save for the few final touches, which, though + they have been given a dozen times, must still again be given just before + the bride starts for the church. Such is the anxious mind of women on + these occasions. The two stood and looked at each other a moment, each + wondering what were the thoughts of the other. Lali was struck by that + high, proud look over which lay a glamour of infinite satisfaction, of + sweetness, which comes to every good woman’s face when she goes to the + altar in a marriage which is not contingent on the rise or fall in stocks, + or a satisfactory settlement. Marion, looking, saw, as if it had been + revealed to her all at once, the intense and miraculous change which had + come over the young wife, even within the past two months. Indeed, she had + changed as much within that time as within all the previous four years—that + is, she had been brought to a certain point in her education and + experience, where without a newer and deeper influence she could go no + further. That newer and deeper influence had come, and the result thereof + was a woman standing upon the verge of the real tragedy to her life, which + was not in having married the man, but in facing that marriage with her + new intelligence and a transformed soul. Men can face that sort of thing + with a kind of philosophy, not because men are better or wiser, but + because it really means less to them. They have resources of life, they + can bury themselves in their ambitions good or bad, but a woman can only + bury herself in her affections, unless her heart has been closed; and in + that case she herself has lost much of what made her adorable. And while + she may go on with the closed heart and become a saint, even saintship is + hardly sufficient to compensate any man or woman for a half-lived life. + The only thing worth doing in this world is to live life according to + one’s convictions—and one’s heart. He or she who sells that fine + independence for a mess of pottage, no matter if the mess be spiced, + sells, as the Master said, the immortal part of him. + </p> + <p> + And so Lali, just here on the edge of Marion’s future, looking into that + mirror, was catching the reflection of her own life. When two women come + so near that, like the lovers in the Tempest, they have changed eyes, in + so far as to read each other’s hearts, even indifferently, which is much + where two women are concerned, there is only one resource, and that is to + fall into each other’s arms, and to weep if it be convenient, or to hold + their tears for a more fitting occasion; and most people will admit that + tears need not add to a bride’s beauty. + </p> + <p> + Marion might, therefore, be pardoned if she had her tears in her throat + and not in her eyes, and Lali, if they arose for a moment no higher than + her heart. But they did fall into each other’s arms despite veils and + orange blossoms, and somehow Marion had the feeling for Lali that she had + on that first day at Greyhope, four years ago, when standing on the + bridge, the girl looked down into the water, tears dropping on her hands, + and Marion said to her: “Poor girl! poor girl!” The situations were the + same, because Lali had come to a new phase of her life, and what that + phase would be who could tell-happiness or despair? + </p> + <p> + The usual person might think that Lali was placing herself and her wifely + affection at a rather high price, but then it is about the only thing that + a woman can place high, even though she be one-third a white woman and + two-thirds an Indian. Here was a beautiful woman, who had run the gamut of + a London season, who had played a pretty social part, admirably trained + therefor by one of the best and most cultured families of England. + Besides, why should any woman sell her affections even to her husband, + bargain away her love, the one thing that sanctifies “what God hath joined + let no man put asunder”? Lali was primitive, she was unlike so many in a + trivial world, but she was right. She might suffer, she might die, but, + after all, there are many things worse than that. Man is born in a day, + and he dies in a day, and the thing is easily over; but to have a sick + heart for three-fourths of one’s lifetime is simply to have death renewed + every morning; and life at that price is not worth living. In this + sensitive age we are desperately anxious to save life, as if it was the + really great thing in the world; but in the good, strong times of the + earth—and in these times, indeed, when necessity knows its hour—men + held their lives as lightly as a bird upon the housetop which any chance + stone might drop. + </p> + <p> + It is possible that at this moment the two women understood each other + better than they had ever done, and respected each other more. Lali, + recovering herself, spoke a few soft words of congratulation, and then + appeared to busy herself in putting little touches to Marion’s dress, that + soft persuasion of fingers which does so much to coax mere cloth into a + sort of living harmony with the body. + </p> + <p> + They had no more words of confidence, but in the porch of the church, + Marion, as she passed Lali, caught the slender fingers in her own and + pressed them tenderly. Marion was giving comfort, and yet if she had been + asked why she could not have told. She did not try to define it further + than to say to herself that she herself was having almost too much + happiness. The village was en fete, and peasants lined the street leading + to the church, ready with their hearty God-bless-you’s. Lali sat between + her husband and Mrs. Armour, apparently impassive until there came the + question: “Who giveth this woman to be married to this man?” and General + Armour’s voice came clear and strong: “I do.” Then a soft little cry broke + from her, and she shivered slightly. Mrs. Armour did not notice, but Frank + and Mrs. Lambert heard and saw, and both were afterwards watchful and + solicitous. Frank caught Mrs. Lambert’s eye, and it said, to a little + motion of the head: “Do not appear to notice.” + </p> + <p> + Lali was as if in a dream. She never took her eyes from the group at the + altar until the end, and the two, now man and wife, turned to go into the + vestry. Then she appeared to sink away into herself for a moment, before + she fell into conversation with the others, as they moved towards the + vestry. + </p> + <p> + “It was beautiful, wasn’t it?” ventured Edward Lambert. + </p> + <p> + “The most beautiful wedding I ever saw,” she answered, with a little + shadow of meaning; and Lambert guessed that it was the only one she had + seen since she came to England. + </p> + <p> + “How well Vidall looked,” said Frank, “and as proud as a sultan. Did you + hear what he said, as Marion came up the aisle?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” responded Lambert. + </p> + <p> + “He said, ‘By Jove, isn’t she fine!’ He didn’t seem conscious that other + people were present.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, if a man hasn’t some inspirations on his wedding-day when is he to + have them?” said Mrs. Lambert. “For my part, I think that the woman always + does that sort of thing better than a man. It is her really great + occasion, and she masters it—the comedy is all hers.” They were just + then entering the vestry. + </p> + <p> + “Or the tragedy, as the case may be,” said Lali quietly, smiling at + Marion. She had, as it were, recovered herself, and her words had come + with that airy, impersonal tone which permits nothing of what is said in + it to be taken seriously. Something said by the others had recalled her to + herself, and she was now returned very suddenly to the old position of + alertness and social finesse. Something icy seemed to pass over her, and + she immediately lost all self-consciousness, and began to speak to her + husband with less reserve than she had shown since he had come. But he was + not deceived. He saw that at that very instant she was further away from + him than she had ever been. He sighed, in spite of himself, as Lali, with + well-turned words, said some loving greetings to Marion, and then talked a + moment with Captain Vidall. + </p> + <p> + “Who can understand a woman?” said Lambert to his wife meaningly. + </p> + <p> + “Whoever will,” she answered. “How do you mean?” + </p> + <p> + “Whoever will wait like the saint upon the pillar, will suffer like the + traveller in the desert; serve like a slave, and demand like a king; have + patience greater than Job; love ceaseless as a fountain in the hills; who + sees in the darkness and is not afraid of light; who distrusts not, + neither believes, but stands ready to be taught; who is prepared for a + kiss this hour and a reproach the next; who turneth neither to right nor + left at her words, but hath an unswerving eye—these shall understand + a woman.” + </p> + <p> + “I never knew you so philosophical. Where did you get this deliverance on + the subject?” + </p> + <p> + “May not even a woman have a moment of inspiration?” + </p> + <p> + “I should expect that of my wife.” + </p> + <p> + “And I should expect that of my husband. It is trite to say that men are + vain; I shall remark that they sit so much in their own light that they + are surprised if another being crosses their disc.” + </p> + <p> + “You always were clever, my dear, and you always were twice too good for + me.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, every woman—worth the knowing—is a missionary.” + </p> + <p> + “Where does Lali come in?” + </p> + <p> + “Can you ask? To justify the claims of womanhood in spite of race—and + all.” + </p> + <p> + “To bring one man to a sense of the duty of sex to sex, eh?” + </p> + <p> + “Truly. And is she not doing it well? See her now.” They were now just + leaving the church, and Lali had taken General Armour’s arm, while Richard + led his mother to the carriage. + </p> + <p> + Lali was moving with a little touch of grandeur in her manner and a more + than ordinary deliberation. She had had a moment of great weakness, and + then there had come the reaction—carried almost too far by the force + of the will. She was indeed straining herself too far. Four years of + tension were culminating. + </p> + <p> + “See her now, Edward,” repeated Mrs. Lambert. “Yes, but if I’m not + mistaken, my dear, she is doing so well that she’s going to pieces. She’s + overstrung to-day. If it were you, you’d be in hysterics.” + </p> + <p> + “I believe you are right,” was the grave reply. “There will be an end to + this comedy one way or another very soon.” + </p> + <p> + A moment afterwards they were in a carriage rolling away to Greyhope. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0015" id="link2HCH0015"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XV. THE END OF THE TRAIL + </h2> + <p> + When Marion was about leaving with her husband for the railway station, + she sought out Lali, and found her standing half hidden by the curtains of + a window, looking out at little Richard, who was parading his pony up and + down before the house. An unutterable sweetness looked out of Marion’s + eyes. She had found, as it seemed to her, and as so many have believed + until their lives’ end, the secret of existence. Lali saw the glistening + joy, and responded to it, just as it was in her being to respond to every + change of nature—that sensitiveness was in her as deep as being. + </p> + <p> + “You are very happy, dear?” she said to Marion. “You cannot think how + happy, Lali. And I want to say that I feel sure that you will yet be as + happy, even happier than I. Oh, it will come—it will come. And you + have the boy now-so fine, so good.” + </p> + <p> + Lali looked out to where little Richard disported himself; her eyes shone, + and she turned with a responsive but still sad smile to Marion. “Marion,” + she said gently, “the other should have come before he came.” “Frank loves + you, Lali.” + </p> + <p> + “Who knows? And then, oh, I cannot tell! How can one force one’s heart? + No, no! One has to wait, and wait, even if the heart grows harder, and one + gets hopeless.” + </p> + <p> + Marion kissed her on the cheek and smiled. “Some day soon the heart will + open up, and then such a flood will pour out! See, Lali. I am going now, + and our lives won’t run together so much again ever, perhaps. But I want + to tell you now that your coming to us has done me a world of good—helped + me to be a wiser girl; and I ought to be a better woman for it. Good-bye.” + </p> + <p> + They were calling to her, and with a hurried embrace the two parted, and + in a few moments the bride and bridegroom were on their way to the new + life. As the carriage disappeared in a turn of the limes, Lali vanished + also to her room. She was not seen at dinner. Mackenzie came to say that + she was not very well, and that she would keep to her room. Frank sent + several times during the evening to inquire after her, and was told that + she was resting comfortably. He did not try to see her, and in this was + wise. He had now fallen into a habit of delicate consideration, which + brought its own reward. He had given up hope of winning her heart or + confidence by storm, and had followed his finer and better instincts—had + come to the point where he made no claims, and even in his own mind stood + upon no rights. His mother brought him word from Lali before he retired, + to say that she was sorry she could not see him, but giving him a message + and a commission into town the following morning for their son. Her tact + had grown is her strength had declined. There is something in failing + health—ill-health without disease—which sharpens and refines + the faculties, and makes the temper exquisitely sensitive—that is, + with people of a certain good sort. The aplomb and spirited manner in + which Lali had borne herself at the wedding and after, was the last + flicker of her old strength, and of the second phase in her married life. + The end of the first phase came with the ride at the quick-set hedge, this + with a less intent but as active a temper. + </p> + <p> + The next morning she did not appear at breakfast, but sent a message to + Frank to say that she was better, and adding another commission for town. + All day, save for an hour on the balcony, she kept to her room, and lay + down for the greater part of the afternoon. In the evening, when Frank + returned, his mother sent for him, and frankly told him that she thought + it would be better for him to go away for a few weeks or so; that Lali was + in a languid, nervous state, and she thought that by the time he got back—if + he would go—she would be better, and that better things would come + for him. + </p> + <p> + Frank was no longer the vain, selfish fellow who had married Lali—something + of the best in him was at work. He understood, and suggested a couple of + weeks with Richard at their little place in Scotland. Also, he saw his + wife for a little while that evening. She had been lying down, but she + disposed herself in a deep chair before he entered. He was a little + shocked to see, as it were all at once, how delicate she looked. He came + and sat down near her, and after a few moments of friendly talk, in which + he spoke solicitously of her health, he told her that he thought of going + up to Scotland with Richard for a few weeks, if she saw no objection. + </p> + <p> + She did not quite understand why he was going. She thought that perhaps he + felt the strain of the situation, and that a little absence would be good + for both. This pleased her. She did not shrink, as she had so often done + since his return, when he laid his hand on hers for an instant, as he + asked her if she were willing that he should go. Sometimes in the past few + weeks she had almost hated him. Now she was a little sorry for him, but + she said that of course he must go; that no doubt it was good that he + should go, and so on, in gentle, allusive phrases. The next evening she + came down to dinner, and was more like herself as she was before Frank + came back, but she ate little, and before the men came into the + drawing-room she had excused herself, and retired; at which Mrs. Lambert + shook her head apprehensively at herself, and made up her mind to stay at + Greyhope longer than she intended. + </p> + <p> + Which was good for all concerned; for, two nights after Frank and Richard + had gone, Mackenzie hurried down to the drawing-room with the news that + Lali had been found in a faint on her chamber floor. That was the + beginning of weeks of anxiety, in which Mrs. Lambert was to Mrs. Armour + what Marion would have been, and more; and both to Lali all that mother + and sister could be. + </p> + <p> + Their patient was unlike any other that they had known. Feverish, she had + no fever; with a gentle, hacking cough, she had no lung trouble; nervous, + she still was oblivious to very much that went on around her; hungering + often for her child, she would not let him remain long with her when he + came. Her sleep was broken, and she sometimes talked to herself, whether + consciously or unconsciously they did not know. The doctor had no remedies + but tonics—he did not understand the case; but he gently ventured + the opinion that it was mostly a matter of race, that she was pining + because civilisation had been infused into her veins—the old + insufficient theory. + </p> + <p> + “Stuff and nonsense!” said General Armour, when his wife told him. “The + girl bloomed till Frank came back. God bless my soul! she’s falling in + love, and doesn’t know what it is.” + </p> + <p> + He was only partly right, perhaps, but he was nearer the truth than the + dealer in quinine and a cheap philosophy of life. “She’ll come around all + right, you’ll see. Decline—decline be hanged! The girl shall live,—damn + it, she shall!” he blurted out, as his wife’s eyes filled with tears. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Lambert was much of the same mind as the general, but went further. + She said to Mrs. Armour that in all her life she had never seen so sweet a + character, so sensitive a mind—a mind whose sorrow was imagination. + And therein the little lady showed herself a person of wisdom. For none of + them had yet reckoned with that one great element in Lali’s character—that + thing which is the birthright of all who own the North for a mother, the + awe of imagination, the awe and the pain, which in its finest expression + comes near, very near, to the supernatural. Lali’s mind was all pictures; + she never thought of things in words, she saw them; and everything in her + life arrayed itself in a scene before her, made vivid by her sensitive + soul, so much more sensitive now with health failing, the spirit wearing + out the body. There was her malady—the sick heart and mind. + </p> + <p> + A new sickness wore upon her. It had not touched her from the day she left + the North until she sang “The Chase of the Yellow Swan” that first evening + after Frank’s return. Ever since then her father was much in her mind—the + memory of her childhood, and its sweet, inspiring friendship with Nature. + All the roughness and coarseness of the life was refined in her memory by + the exquisite atmosphere of the North, the good sweet earth, the strong + bracing wind, the camaraderie of trees and streams and grass and animals. + And in it all stood her father, whom she had left alone, in that + interminable interval between the old life and the new. + </p> + <p> + Had she done right? She had cut him off, as if he had never been—her + people, her country also; and for what? For this—for this sinking + sense, this failing body, this wear and tear of mind and heart, this + constant study to be possible where she had once been declared by the + world to be impossible. + </p> + <p> + One night she lay sleeping after a rather feverish day, when it was + thought best to keep the child from her. Suddenly she waked, and sat up. + Looking straight before her, she said: + </p> + <p> + “I will arise, and will go to my Father, and will say unto Him, Father, I + have sinned against heaven and before Thee, and am no more worthy to be + called Thy son.” + </p> + <p> + She said nothing more than this, and presently lay back, with eyes wide + open, gazing before her. Like this she lay all night long, a strange, + aching look in her face. There had come upon her the sudden impulse to + leave it all, and go back to her father. But the child—that gave her + pause. Towards morning she fell asleep, and slept far on into the day, a + thing that had not occurred for a long time. + </p> + <p> + At noon a letter arrived for her. It came into General Armour’s hands, and + he, seeing that it bore the stamp of the Hudson’s Bay Company, with the + legend, From Fort St. Charles, concluded that it was news of Lali’s + father. Then came the question whether the letter should be given to her. + The general was for doing so, and he prevailed. If it were bad news, he + said, it might raise her out of her present apathy and by changing the + play of her emotions do her good in the end. + </p> + <p> + The letter was given to her in the afternoon. She took it apathetically, + but presently, seeing where it was from, she opened it hurriedly with a + little cry which was very like a moan too. There were two letters inside + one from the factor at Fort Charles in English, and one from her father in + the Indian language. She read her father’s letter first, the other + fluttered to her feet from her lap. General Armour, looking down, saw a + sentence in it which, he felt, warranted him in picking it up, reading it, + and retaining it, his face settling into painful lines as he did so. Days + afterwards, Lali read her father’s letter to Mrs. Armour. It ran: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + My daughter, + + Lali, the sweet noise of the Spring: + + Thy father speaks. + + I have seen more than half a hundred moons come like the sickle and + go like the eye of a running buck, swelling with fire, but I hear + not thy voice at my tent door since the first one came and went. + + Thou art gone. + + Thy face was like the sun on running water; thy hand hung on thy + wrists like the ear of a young deer; thy foot was as soft on the + grass as the rain on a child’s cheek; thy words were like snow in + summer, which melts in richness on the hot earth. Thy bow and arrow + hang lonely upon the wall, and thy empty cup is beside the pot. + + Thou art gone. + + Thou hast become great with a great race, and that is well. Our + race is not great, and shall not be, until the hour when the Mighty + Men of the Kimash Hills arise from their sleep and possess the land + again. + + Thou art gone. + + But thou hast seen many worlds, and thou hast learned great things, + and thou and I shall meet no more; for how shall the wise kneel at + the feet of the foolish, as thou didst kneel once at thy father’s + feet? + + Thou art gone. + + High on the Clip Claw Hills the trees are green, in the Plain of the + Rolling Stars the wings of the wild fowl are many, and fine is the + mist upon Goldfly Lake; and the heart of Eye-of-the-Moon is strong. + + Thou art here. + + The trail is open to the White Valley, and the Scarlet Hunter hath + saved me, when my feet strayed in the plains and my eyes were + blinded. + + Thou art here. + + I have friends on the Far Off River who show me the yards where the + musk-ox gather; I have found the gardens of the young sable, and my + tents are full of store. + + Thou art here. + + In the morning my spirit is light, and I have harvest where I would + gather, and the stubble is for my foes. In the evening my limbs are + heavy, and I am at rest in my blanket. The hunt is mine and sleep + is mine, and my soul is cheerful when I remember thee. + + Thou art here. + + I have built for thee a place where thy spirit comes. I hear thee + when thou callest to me, and I kneel outside the door, for thou art + wise, and thou speakest to me; but thee as thou art in a far land I + shall see no more. This is my word to thee, that thou mayst know + that I am not alone. Thou shalt not come again, as thou once went; + it is not meet. But by these other ways I will speak to thee. + + Thou art here. + + Farewell. I have spoken. +</pre> + <p> + Lali finished reading, and then slowly folded up the letter. The writing + was that of the wife of the factor at Fort Charles—she knew it. She + sat for a minute looking straight before her. She read her father’s + allegory. Barbarian in so much as her father was, he had beaten this thing + out with the hammer of wisdom. He missed her, but she must not come back; + she had outgrown the old life—he knew it and she was with him in + spirit, in his memory; she understood his picturesque phrases, borrowed + from the large, affluent world about him. Something of the righteousness + and magnanimity of this letter passed into her, giving her for an instant + a sort of peace. She had needed it—needed it to justify herself, and + she had been justified. To return was impossible—she had known that + all along, though she had not admitted it; the struggle had been but a + kind of remorse, after all. That her father should come to her was also + impossible—it was neither for her happiness nor his. She had been + two different persons in her life, and the first was only a memory to the + second. The father had solved the problem for her. He too was now a memory + that she could think on with pleasure, as associated with the girl she + once was. He had been well provided for by her husband, and General Armour + put his hand on hers gently and said: + </p> + <p> + “Lali, without your permission I have read this other letter.” + </p> + <p> + She did not appear curious. She was thinking still of her father’s letter + to her. She nodded abstractedly. “Lali,” he continued, “this says that + your father wished that letter to be written to you just as he said it at + the Fort, on the day of the Feast of the Yellow Swan. He stood up—the + factor writes so here—and said that he had been thinking much for + years, and that the time had come when he must speak to his daughter over + the seas—” + </p> + <p> + General Armour paused. Lali inclined her head, smiled wistfully, and held + up the letter for him to see. The general continued: + </p> + <p> + “So he spoke as has been written to you, and then they had the Feast of + the Yellow Swan, and that night—” He paused again, but presently, + his voice a little husky, he went on: “That night he set out on a long + journey,”—he lifted the letter and looked at it, then met the + serious eyes of his daughter-in-law, “on a long journey to the Hills of + the Mighty Men; and, my dear, he never came back; for, as he said, there + was peace in the White Valley, and he would rest till the world should + come to its Spring again, and the noise of its coming should be in his + ears. Those, Lali, are his very words.” + </p> + <p> + His hand closed on hers, he reached out and took the other hand, from + which the paper fluttered, and clasped both tight in his own firm grasp. + </p> + <p> + “My daughter,” he said, “you have another father.” With a low cry, like + that of a fawn struck in the throat, she slid forward on her knees beside + him, and buried her face on his arm. She understood. Her father was dead. + Mrs. Armour came forward, and, kneeling also, drew the dark head to her + bosom. Then that flood came which sweeps away the rust that gathers in the + eyes and breaks through the closed dikes of the heart. + </p> + <p> + Hours after, when she had fallen into a deep sleep, General Armour and his + wife met outside her bedroom door. + </p> + <p> + “I shall not leave her,” Mrs. Armour said. “Send for Frank. His time has + almost come.” + </p> + <p> + But it would not have come so soon had not something else occurred. The + day that he came back from Scotland he entered his wife’s room, prepared + for a change in her, yet he did not find so much to make him happy as he + had hoped. She received him with a gentleness which touched him, she let + her hand rest in his, she seemed glad to have him with her. All bars had + been cast down between them, but he knew that she had not given him all, + and she knew it also. But she hoped he did not know, and she dreaded the + hour when he would speak out of his now full heart. He did not yet urge + his affection on her, he was simply devoted, and watchful, and tender, and + delightedly hopeful. + </p> + <p> + But one night she came tapping at his door. When he opened it, she said: + “Oh come, come! Richard is ill! I have sent for the doctor.” + </p> + <p> + Henceforth she was her old self again, with a transformed spirit, her + motherhood spending itself in a thousand ways. She who was weak bodily + became now much stronger; the light of new vigour came to her eyes; she + and her husband, in the common peril, worked together, thinking little of + themselves, and all of the child. The last stage of the journey to + happiness was being passed, and if it was not obvious to themselves, the + others, Marion and Captain Vidall included, saw it. + </p> + <p> + One anxious day, after the family doctor had left the sick child’s room, + Marion, turning to the father and mother, said: “Greyhope will be itself + again. I will go and tell Richard that the danger is over.” + </p> + <p> + As she turned to do so, Richard entered the room. “I have seen the + doctor,” he began, “and the little chap is going to pull along like a + house afire.” + </p> + <p> + Tapping Frank affectionately on the arm, he was about to continue, but he + saw what stopped him. He saw the last move in Frank Armour’s + tragic-comedy. He and Marion left the room as quickly as was possible to + him, for, as he said himself, he was “slow at a quick march”; and a moment + afterwards the wife heard without demur her husband’s tale of love for + her. + </p> + <p> + Yet, as if to remind him of the wrong he had done, Heaven never granted + Frank Armour another child. + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ETEXT EDITOR’S BOOKMARKS: + + Being young, she exaggerated the importance of the event + Every man should have laws of his own + Flood came which sweeps away the rust that gathers in the eyes + His duties were many, or he made them so + How can one force one’s heart? No, no! One has to wait + If fumbling human fingers do not meddle with it + Man or woman must not expect too much out of life + May be more beautiful in uncertain England than anywhere else + Men must have their bad hours alone + Men are shy with each other where their emotions are in play + Miseries of this world are caused by forcing issues + Most important lessons of life—never to quarrel with a woman + Prepared for a kiss this hour and a reproach the next + Reading a lot and forgetting everything + Romance is an incident to a man + Simply to have death renewed every morning + Sympathy and consolation might be much misplaced + The world never welcomes its deserters + There should be written the one word, “Wait.” + There is no influence like the influence of habit + These little pieces of art make life possible + Think of our position + To sorrow may their humour be a foil + Training in the charms of superficiality + We grow away from people against our will + We want to get more out of life than there really is in it + We speak with the straight tongue; it is cowards who lie + Who never knew self-consciousness + Who can understand a woman? + Worth while to have lived so long and to have seen so much + You never can make a scandal less by trying to hide it +</pre> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Translation of a Savage, Complete +by Gilbert Parker + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TRANSLATION OF A SAVAGE, *** + +***** This file should be named 6214-h.htm or 6214-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/6/2/1/6214/ + +Produced by David Widger + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose +such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and +research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do +practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is +subject to the trademark license, especially commercial +redistribution. + + + +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase “Project +Gutenberg”), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at +https://gutenberg.org/license). + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. “Project Gutenberg” is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation (“the Foundation” + or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase “Project Gutenberg” appears, or with which the phrase “Project +Gutenberg” is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase “Project Gutenberg” associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +“Plain Vanilla ASCII” or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original “Plain Vanilla ASCII” or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, “Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation.” + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +“Defects,” such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the “Right +of Replacement or Refund” described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you ‘AS-IS’ WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm’s +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. +To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 +and the Foundation web page at https://www.pglaf.org. + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation’s EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at +https://pglaf.org/fundraising. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state’s laws. + +The Foundation’s principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at +809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email +business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact +information can be found at the Foundation’s web site and official +page at https://pglaf.org + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit https://pglaf.org + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including including checks, online payments and credit card +donations. To donate, please visit: https://pglaf.org/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + https://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. + +</pre> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + </body> +</html> diff --git a/6214.txt b/6214.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..fc5fedb --- /dev/null +++ b/6214.txt @@ -0,0 +1,5594 @@ +Project Gutenberg's The Translation of a Savage, Complete, by Gilbert Parker + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Translation of a Savage, Complete + +Author: Gilbert Parker + +Last Updated: March 12, 2009 +Release Date: October 18, 2006 [EBook #6214] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TRANSLATION OF A SAVAGE, *** + + + +Produced by David Widger + + + + + +THE TRANSLATION OF A SAVAGE, Complete + +By Gilbert Parker + + + +CONTENTS + + Volume 1. + I. HIS GREAT MISTAKE + II. A DIFFICULT SITUATION + III. OUT OF THE NORTH + IV. IN THE NAME OF THE FAMILY + V. AN AWKWARD HALF-HOUR + + Volume 2. + VI. THE PASSING OF THE YEARS + VII. A COURT-MARTIAL + VIII. TO EVERY MAN HIS HOUR + + Volume 3. + IX. THE FAITH OF COMRADES + X. "THOU KNOWEST THE SECRETS OF OUR HEARTS" + XI. UPON THE HIGHWAY + XII. "THE CHASE OF THE YELLOW SWAN" + XIII. A LIVING POEM + XIV. ON THE EDGE OF A FUTURE + XV. THE END OF THE TRAIL + + + + +INTRODUCTION + +The Translation of a Savage was written in the early autumn of 1893, at +Hampstead Heath, where for over twenty years I have gone, now and then, +when I wished to be in an atmosphere conducive to composition. Hampstead +is one of the parts of London which has as yet been scarcely invaded +by the lodging-house keeper. It is very difficult to get apartments at +Hampstead; it is essentially a residential place; and, like Chelsea, has +literary and artistic character all its own. I think I have seen more +people carrying books in their hands at Hampstead than in any other spot +in England; and there it was, perched above London, with eyes looking +towards the Atlantic over the leagues of land and the thousand leagues +of sea, that I wrote 'The Translation of a Savage'. It was written, as +it were, in one concentrated effort, a ceaseless writing. It was, in +effect, what the Daily Chronicle said of 'When Valmond Came to Pontiac', +a tour de force. It belonged to a genre which compelled me to dispose of +a thing in one continuous effort, or the impulse, impetus, and fulness +of movement was gone. The writing of a book of the kind admitted of no +invasion from extraneous sources, and that was why, while writing 'The +Translation of a Savage' at Hampstead, my letters were only delivered +to me once a week. I saw no friends, for no one knew where I was; but I +walked the heights, I practised with my golf clubs on the Heath, and I +sat in the early autumn evenings looking out at London in that agony of +energy which its myriad lives represented. It was a good time. + +The story had a basis of fact; the main incident was true. It happened, +however, in Michigan rather than in Canada; but I placed the incident +in Canada where it was just as true to the life. I was living in +Hertfordshire at the time of writing the story, and that is why the +English scenes were worked out in Hertfordshire and in London. When I +had finished the tale, there came over me suddenly a kind of feeling +that the incident was too bold and maybe too crude to be believed, and +I was almost tempted to consign it to the flames; but the editor of +'The English Illustrated Magazine', Sir C. Kinloch-Cooke, took a wholly +different view, and eagerly published it. The judgment of the press was +favourable,--highly so--and I was as much surprised as pleased when Mr. +George Moore, in the Hogarth Club one night, in 1894, said to me: "There +is a really remarkable play in that book of yours, 'The Translation, of +a Savage'." I had not thought up to that time that my work was of +the kind which would appeal to George Moore, but he was always making +discoveries. Meeting him in Pall Mall one day, he said to me: "My dear +fellow, I have made a great discovery. I have been reading the Old +Testament. It is magnificent. In the mass of its incoherence it has a +series of the most marvellous stories. Do you remember--" etc. Then he +came home and had tea with me, revelling, in the meantime, on having +discovered the Bible! + +I cannot feel that 'The Translation of a Savage' has any significance +beyond the truthfulness with which I believe it describes the +transformation, or rather the evolution, of a primitive character into +a character with an intelligence of perception and a sympathy which is +generally supposed to be the outcome of long processes of civilisation +and culture. The book has so many friends--this has been sufficiently +established by the very large sale it has had in cheap editions--that +I am still disposed to feel it was an inevitable manifestation in the +progress of my art, such as it is. People of diverse conditions of life +have found in it something to interest and to stimulate. One of the most +volcanic of the Labour members in the House of Commons told me that the +violence of his opposition to me in debate on a certain bill was greatly +moderated by the fact that I had written 'The Translation of a Savage'; +while a certain rather grave duke remarked to me concerning the +character of Lali that "She would have been all right anywhere." I am +bound to say that he was a duke who, while a young man, knew the wilds +of Canada and the United States almost as well as I know Westminster. + + + + +THE TRANSLATION OF A SAVAGE + + + + +CHAPTER I. HIS GREAT MISTAKE + +It appeared that Armour had made the great mistake of his life. When +people came to know, they said that to have done it when sober had shown +him possessed of a kind of maliciousness and cynicism almost pardonable, +but to do it when tipsy proved him merely weak and foolish. But the fact +is, he was less tipsy at the time than was imagined; and he could have +answered to more malice and cynicism than was credited to him. To those +who know the world it is not singular that, of the two, Armour was +thought to have made the mistake and had the misfortune, or that people +wasted their pity and their scorn upon him alone. Apparently they did +not see that the woman was to be pitied. He had married her; and she was +only an Indian girl from Fort Charles of the Hudson's Bay Company, +with a little honest white blood in her veins. Nobody, not even her +own people, felt that she had anything at stake, or was in danger of +unhappiness, or was other than a person who had ludicrously come to bear +the name of Mrs. Francis Armour. If any one had said in justification +that she loved the man, the answer would have been that plenty of +Indian women had loved white men, but had not married them, and yet the +population of half-breeds went on increasing. + +Frank Armour had been a popular man in London. His club might be found +in the vicinity of Pall Mall, his father's name was high and honoured in +the Army List, one of his brothers had served with Wolseley in Africa, +and Frank himself, having no profession, but with a taste for business +and investment, had gone to Canada with some such intention as Lord +Selkirk's in the early part of the century. He owned large shares in +the Hudson's Bay Company, and when he travelled through the North-West +country, prospecting, he was received most hospitably. Of an inquiring +and gregarious nature he went as much among the half-breeds--or 'metis', +as they are called--and Indians as among the officers of the Hudson's +Bay Company and the white settlers. He had ever been credited with +having a philosophical turn of mind; and this was accompanied by a +certain strain of impulsiveness or daring. He had been accustomed all +his life to make up his mind quickly and, because he was well enough +off to bear the consequences of momentary rashness in commercial +investments, he was not counted among the transgressors. He had his +own fortune; he was not drawing upon a common purse. It was a different +matter when he trafficked rashly in the family name so far as to marry +the daughter of Eye-of-the-Moon, the Indian chief. + +He was tolerably happy when he went to the Hudson's Bay country; for +Miss Julia Sherwood was his promised wife, and she, if poor, was notably +beautiful and of good family. His people had not looked quite kindly +on this engagement; they had, indeed, tried in many ways to prevent it; +partly because of Miss Sherwood's poverty, and also because they knew +that Lady Agnes Martling had long cared for him, and was most happily +endowed with wealth and good looks also. When he left for Canada they +were inwardly glad (they imagined that something might occur to end +the engagement)--all except Richard, the wiseacre of the family, +the book-man, the drone, who preferred living at Greyhope, their +Hertfordshire home, the year through, to spending half the time in +Cavendish Square. Richard was very fond of Frank, admiring him immensely +for his buxom strength and cleverness, and not a little, too, for that +very rashness which had brought him such havoc at last. + +Richard was not, as Frank used to say, "perfectly sound on his +pins,"--that is, he was slightly lame, but he was right at heart. He +was an immense reader, but made little use of what he read. He had an +abundant humour, and remembered every anecdote he ever heard. He was +kind to the poor, walked much, talked to himself as he walked, and was +known by the humble sort as "a'centric." But he had a wise head, and he +foresaw danger to Frank's happiness when he went away. While others had +gossiped and manoeuvred and were busily idle, he had watched things. He +saw that Frank was dear to Julia in proportion to the distance between +her and young Lord Haldwell, whose father had done something remarkable +in guns or torpedoes and was rewarded with a lordship and an uncommonly +large fortune. He also saw that, after Frank left, the distance between +Lord Haldwell and Julia became distinctly less--they were both staying +at Greyhope. Julia Sherwood was a remarkably clever girl. Though he felt +it his duty to speak to her for his brother,--a difficult and delicate +matter, he thought it would come better from his mother. + +But when he took action it was too late. Miss Sherwood naively declared +that she had not known her own heart, and that she did not care for +Frank any more. She wept a little, and was soothed by motherly Mrs. +Armour, who was inwardly glad, though she knew the matter would cause +Frank pain; and even General Armour could not help showing slight +satisfaction, though he was innocent of any deliberate action to +separate the two. Straightway Miss Sherwood despatched a letter to the +wilds of Canada, and for a week was an unengaged young person. But she +was no doubt consoled by the fact that for some time past she had had +complete control of Lord Haldwell's emotions. At the end of the week +her perceptions were justified by Lord Haldwell's proposal, which, with +admirable tact and obvious demureness, was accepted. + +Now, Frank Armour was wandering much in the wilds, so that his letters +and papers went careering about after him, and some that came first were +last to reach him. That was how he received a newspaper announcing the +marriage of Lord Haldwell and Julia Sherwood at the same time that her +letter, written in estimable English and with admirable feeling, came, +begging for a release from their engagement, and, towards its close, +assuming, with a charming regret, that all was over, and that the last +word had been said between them. + +Armour was sitting in the trader's room at Fort Charles when the carrier +came with the mails. He had had some successful days hunting buffalo +with Eye-of-the-Moon and a little band of metis, had had a long pow-wow +in Eye-of-the-Moon's lodge, had chatted gaily with Lali the daughter, +and was now prepared to enjoy heartily the arrears of correspondence +and news before him. He ran his hand through the letters and papers, +intending to classify them immediately, according to such handwriting as +he recognised and the dates on the envelopes. But, as he did so, he saw +a newspaper from which the wrapper was partly torn. He also saw a note +in the margin directing him to a certain page. The note was in Richard's +handwriting. He opened the paper at the page indicated and saw the +account of the marriage! His teeth clinched on his cigar, his face +turned white, the paper fell from his fingers. He gasped, his hands +spread out nervously, then caught the table and held it as though to +steady himself. + +The trader rose. "You are ill," he said. "Have you bad news?" He glanced +towards the paper. Slowly Armour folded the paper up, and then rose +unsteadily. "Gordon," he said, "give me a glass of brandy." + +He turned towards the cupboard in the room. The trader opened it, took +out a bottle, and put it on the table beside Armour, together with a +glass and some water. Armour poured out a stiff draught, added a very +little water, and drank it. He drew a great sigh, and stood looking at +the paper. + +"Is there anything I can do for you, Mr. Armour?" urged the trader. + +"Nothing, thank you, nothing at all. Just leave the brandy here, will +you? I feel knocked about, and I have to go through the rest of these +letters." + +He ran his fingers through the pile, turning it over hastily, as if +searching for something. The trader understood. He was a cool-headed +Scotsman; he knew that there were some things best not inquired into, +and that men must have their bad hours alone. He glanced at the brandy +debatingly, but presently turned and left the room in silence. In his +own mind, however, he wished he might have taken the brandy without +being discourteous. Armour had discovered Miss Sherwood's letter. Before +he opened it he took a little more brandy. Then he sat down and read it +deliberately. The liquor had steadied him. The fingers of one hand even +drummed on the table. But the face was drawn, the eyes were hard, and +the look of him was altogether pinched. After he had finished this, he +looked for others from the same hand. He found none. Then he picked out +those from his mother and father. He read them grimly. Once he paused as +he read his mother's letter, and took a gulp of plain brandy. There was +something very like a sneer on his face when he finished reading. He +read the hollowness of the sympathy extended to him; he understood the +far from adroit references to Lady Agnes Martling. He was very bitter. +He opened no more letters, but took up the Morning Post again, and read +it slowly through. The look of his face was not pleasant. There was a +small looking-glass opposite him. He caught sight of himself in it. +He drew his hand across his eyes and forehead, as though he was in a +miserable dream. He looked again; he could not recognise himself. + +He then bundled the letters and papers into his despatch-box. His +attention was drawn to one letter. He picked it up. It was from Richard. +He started to break the seal, but paused. The strain of the event was +too much; he winced. He determined not to read it then, to wait until he +had recovered himself. He laughed now painfully. It had been better +for him--it had, maybe, averted what people were used to term his +tragedy--had he read his brother's letter at that moment. For Richard +Armour was a sensible man, notwithstanding his peculiarities; and +perhaps the most sensible words he ever wrote were in that letter +thrust unceremoniously into Frank Armour's pocket. Armour had received a +terrible blow. He read his life backwards. He had no future. The liquor +he had drunk had not fevered him, it had not wildly excited him; it +merely drew him up to a point where he could put a sudden impulse +into practice without flinching. He was bitter against his people; +he credited them with more interference than was actual. He felt that +happiness had gone out of his life and left him hopeless. As we said, he +was a man of quick decisions. He would have made a dashing but reckless +soldier; he was not without the elements of the gamester. It is possible +that there was in him also a strain of cruelty, undeveloped but radical. +Life so far had evolved the best in him; he had been cheery and candid. +Now he travelled back into new avenues of his mind and found strange, +aboriginal passions, fully adapted to the present situation. Vulgar +anger and reproaches were not after his nature. He suddenly found +sources of refined but desperate retaliation. He drew upon them. He +would do something to humiliate his people and the girl who had spoiled +his life. Some one thing! It should be absolute and lasting, it should +show how low had fallen his opinion of women, of whom Julia Sherwood had +once been chiefest to him. In that he would show his scorn of her. He +would bring down the pride of his family, who, he believed, had helped, +out of mere selfishness, to tumble his happiness into the shambles. + +He was older by years than an hour ago. But he was not without the +faculty of humour; that was why he did not become very excited; it was +also why he determined upon a comedy which should have all the elements +of tragedy. Perhaps, however, he would have hesitated to carry his +purposes to immediate conclusions, were it not that the very gods seemed +to play his game with him. For, while he stood there, looking out into +the yard of the fort, a Protestant missionary passed the window. The +Protestant missionary, as he is found at such places as Fort Charles, is +not a strictly superior person. A Jesuit might have been of advantage +to Frank Armour at that moment. The Protestant missionary is not above +comfortable assurances of gold. So that when Armour summoned this one +in, and told him what was required of him, and slipped a generous gift +of the Queen's coin into his hand, he smiled vaguely and was willing to +do what he was bidden. Had he been a Jesuit, who is sworn to poverty, +and more often than not a man of birth and education, he might have +influenced Frank Armour and prevented the notable mishap and scandal. As +it was, Armour took more brandy. + +Then he went down to Eye-of-the-Moon's lodge. A few hours afterwards +the missionary met him there. The next morning Lali, the daughter of +Eye-of-the-Moon, and the chieftainess of a portion of her father's +tribe, whose grandfather had been a white man, was introduced to the +Hudson's Bay country as Mrs. Frank Armour. But that was not all. Indeed, +as it stood, it was very little. He had only made his comedy possible as +yet; now the play itself was to come. He had carried his scheme through +boldly so far. He would not flinch in carrying it out to the last +letter. He brought his wife down to the Great Lakes immediately, +scarcely resting day or night. There he engaged an ordinary but reliable +woman, to whom he gave instructions, and sent the pair to the coast. +He instructed his solicitor at Montreal to procure passages for Mrs. +Francis Armour and maid for Liverpool. Then, by letters, he instructed +his solicitor in London to meet Mrs. Francis Armour and maid at +Liverpool and take them to Greyhope in Hertfordshire--that is, if +General Armour and Mrs. Armour, or some representative of the family, +did not meet them when they landed from the steamship. + +Presently he sat down and wrote to his father and mother, and asked +them to meet his wife and her maid when they arrived by the steamer +Aphrodite. He did not explain to them in precise detail his feelings on +Miss Julia Sherwood's marriage, nor did he go into full particulars as +to the personality of Mrs. Frank Armour; but he did say that, because he +knew they were anxious that he should marry "acceptably," he had married +into the aristocracy, the oldest aristocracy of America; and because he +also knew they wished him to marry wealth, he sent them a wife rich in +virtues--native, unspoiled virtues. He hoped that they would take her to +their hearts and cherish her. He knew their firm principles of honour, +and that he could trust them to be kind to his wife until he returned to +share the affection which he was sure would be given to her. It was not +his intention to return to England for some time yet. He had work to +do in connection with his proposed colony; and a wife--even a native +wife--could not well be a companion in the circumstances. Besides, +Lali--his wife's name was Lali!--would be better occupied in learning +the peculiarities of the life in which her future would be cast. It +was possible they would find her an apt pupil. Of this they could +not complain, that she was untravelled; for she had ridden a horse, +bareback, half across the continent. They could not cavil at her +education, for she knew several languages--aboriginal languages--of the +North. She had merely to learn the dialect of English society, and how +to carry with acceptable form the costumes of the race to which she was +going. Her own costume was picturesque, but it might appear unusual in +London society. Still, they could use their own judgment about that. + +Then, when she was gone beyond recall, he chanced one day to put on the +coat he wore when the letters and paper declaring his misfortune came to +him. He found his brother's letter; he opened it and read it. It was +the letter of a man who knew how to appreciate at their proper value the +misfortunes, as the fortunes, of life. While Frank Armour read he came +to feel for the first time that his brother Richard had suffered, maybe, +from some such misery as had come to him through Julia Sherwood. It was +a dispassionate, manly letter, relieved by gentle wit, and hinting with +careful kindness that a sudden blow was better for a man than a lifelong +thorn in his side. Of Julia Sherwood he had nothing particularly bitter +to say. He delicately suggested that she had acted according to her +nature, and that in the see-saw of life Frank had had a sore blow; +but this was to be borne. The letter did not say too much; it did +not magnify the difficulty, it did not depreciate it. It did not even +directly counsel; it was wholesomely, tenderly judicial. Indirectly, it +dwelt upon the steadiness and manliness of Frank's character; directly, +lightly, and without rhetoric, it enlarged upon their own comradeship. +It ran over pleasantly the days of their boyhood, when they were hardly +ever separated. It made distinct, yet with no obvious purpose, how good +were friendship and confidence--which might be the most unselfish thing +in the world--between two men. With the letter before him Frank Armour +saw his act in a new light. + +As we said, it is possible if he had read it on the day when his trouble +came to him, he had not married Lali, or sent her to England on this--to +her--involuntary mission of revenge. It is possible, also, that there +came to him the first vague conception of the wrong he had done this +Indian girl, who undoubtedly married him because she cared for him +after her heathen fashion, while he had married her for nothing that +was commendable; not even for passion, which may be pardoned, nor for +vanity, which has its virtues. He had had his hour with circumstance; +circumstance would have its hour with him in due course. Yet there was +no extraordinary revulsion. He was still angry, cynical, and very sore. +He would see the play out with a consistent firmness. He almost managed +a smile when a letter was handed to him some weeks later, bearing his +solicitor's assurance that Mrs. Frank Armour and her maid had been +safely bestowed on the Aphrodite for England. This was the first act in +his tragic comedy. + + + + +CHAPTER II. A DIFFICULT SITUATION + +When Mrs. Frank Armour arrived at Montreal she still wore her Indian +costume of clean, well-broidered buckskin, moccasins, and leggings, +all surmounted by a blanket. It was not a distinguished costume, but it +seemed suitable to its wearer. Mr. Armour's agent was in a quandary. He +had received no instructions regarding her dress. He felt, of course, +that, as Mrs. Frank Armour, she should put off these garments, and +dress, so far as was possible, in accordance with her new position. But +when he spoke about it to Mackenzie, the elderly maid and companion, he +found that Mr. Armour had said that his wife was to arrive in England +dressed as she was. He saw something ulterior in the matter, but it was +not his province to interfere. And so Mrs. Frank Armour was a passenger +by the Aphrodite in her buckskin garments. + +What she thought of it all is not quite easy to say. It is possible that +at first she only considered that she was the wife of a white man,--a +thing to be desired, and that the man she loved was hers for ever--a +matter of indefinable joy to her. That he was sending her to England did +not fret her, because it was his will, and he knew what was best. Busy +with her contented and yet somewhat dazed thoughts of him,--she was too +happy to be very active mentally, even if it had been the characteristic +of her race,--she was not at first aware how much notice she excited, +and how strange a figure she was in this staring city. When it did dawn +upon her she shrank a little, but still was placid, preferring to sit +with her hands folded in her lap, idly watching things. She appeared +oblivious that she was the wife of a man of family and rank; she was +only thinking that the man was hers--all hers. He had treated her kindly +enough in the days they were together, but she had not been a great deal +with him, because they travelled fast, and his duties were many, or he +made them so--but the latter possibility did not occur to her. + +When he had hastily bidden her farewell at Port Arthur he had kissed +her and said: "Good-bye, my wife." She was not yet acute enough in the +inflections of Saxon speech to catch the satire--almost involuntary--in +the last two words. She remembered the words, however, and the kiss, and +she was quite satisfied. To what she was going she did not speculate. He +was sending her: that was enough. + +The woman given to her as maid had been well chosen. Armour had done +this carefully. She was Scotch, was reserved, had a certain amount of +shrewdness, would obey instructions, and do her duty carefully. What she +thought about the whole matter she kept to herself; even the solicitor +at Montreal could not find out. She had her instructions clear in her +mind; she was determined to carry them out to the letter--for which she +was already well paid, and was like to be better paid; because Armour +had arranged that she should continue to be with his wife after they +got to England. She understood well the language of Lali's tribe, +and because Lali's English was limited she would be indispensable in +England. + +Mackenzie, therefore, had responsibility, and if she was not elated +over it, she still knew the importance of her position, and had enough +practical vanity to make her an efficient servant and companion. She +already felt that she had got her position in life, from which she was +to go out no more for ever. She had been brought up in the shadow +of Alnwick Castle, and she knew what was due to her charge--by other +people; herself only should have liberty with her. She was taking Lali +to the home of General Armour, and that must be kept constantly before +her mind. Therefore, from the day they set foot on the Aphrodite, she +kept her place beside Mrs. Armour, sitting with her,--they walked very +little,--and scarcely ever speaking, either to her or to the curious +passengers. Presently the passengers became more inquisitive, and +made many attempts at being friendly; but these received little +encouragement. It had become known who the Indian girl was, and many +wild tales went about as to her marriage with Francis Armour. Now it was +maintained she had saved his life at an outbreak of her tribe; again, +that she had found him dying in the woods and had nursed him back to +life and health; yet again, that she was a chieftainess, a successful +claimant against the Hudson's Bay Company--and so on. + +There were several on board who knew the Armours well by name, and two +who knew them personally. One was Mr. Edward Lambert, a barrister of the +Middle Temple, and the other was Mrs. Townley, a widow, a member of a +well-known Hertfordshire family, who, on a pleasant journey in Scotland, +had met, conquered, and married a wealthy young American, and had +been left alone in the world, by no means portionless, eighteen months +before. Lambert knew Richard Armour well, and when, from Francis +Armour's solicitor, with whom he was acquainted, he heard, just before +they started, who the Indian girl was, he was greatly shocked and sorry. +He guessed at once the motive, the madness, of this marriage. But he +kept his information and his opinions mostly to himself, except in so +far as it seemed only due to friendship to contradict the numberless +idle stories going about. After the first day at sea he came to know +Mrs. Townley, and when he discovered that they had many common friends +and that she knew the Armours, he spoke a little more freely to her +regarding the Indian wife, and told her what he believed was the cause +of the marriage. + +Mrs. Townley was a woman--a girl--of uncommon gentleness of disposition, +and, in spite of her troubles, inclined to view life with a sunny eye. +She had known of Frank Armour's engagement with Miss Julia Sherwood, but +she had never heard the sequel. If this was the sequel--well, it had to +be faced. But she was almost tremulous with sympathy when she +remembered Mrs. Armour, and Frank's gay, fashionable sister, Marion, and +contemplated the arrival of this Indian girl at Greyhope. She had always +liked Frank Armour, but this made her angry with him; for, on second +thoughts, she was not more sorry for him and for his people than for +Lali, the wife. She had the true instinct of womanhood, and she supposed +that a heathen like this could have feelings to be hurt and a life to be +wounded as herself or another. At least she saw what was possible in the +future when this Indian girl came to understand her position--only to be +accomplished by contact with the new life, so different from her +past. Both she and Lambert decided that she was very fine-looking, not +withstanding her costume. She was slim and well built, with modest +bust and shapely feet and ankles. Her eyes were large, meditative, and +intelligent, her features distinguished. She was a goodly product of her +race, being descended from a line of chiefs and chieftainesses--broken +only in the case of her grandfather, as has been mentioned. Her hands +(the two kindly inquisitors decided) were almost her best point. They +were perfectly made, slim, yet plump, the fingers tapering, the +wrist supple. Mrs. Townley then and there decided that the girl +had possibilities. But here she was, an Indian, with few signs of +civilisation or of that breeding which seems to white people the only +breeding fit for earth or heaven. + +Mrs. Townley did not need Lambert's suggestion that she should try to +approach the girl, make friends with her, and prepare her in some slight +degree for the strange career before her. + +Mrs. Townley had an infinite amount of tact. She knew it was best to +approach the attendant first. This she did, and, to the surprise of +other lady-passengers, received no rebuff. Her advance was not, however, +rapid. Mackenzie had had her instructions. When she found that Mrs. +Townley knew Francis Armour and his people, she thawed a little more, +and then, very hesitatingly, she introduced her to the Indian wife. Mrs. +Townley smiled her best--and there were many who knew how attractive +she could be at such a moment. There was a slight pause, in which Lali +looked at her meditatively, earnestly, and then those beautiful wild +fingers glided out, and caught her hand, and held it; but she spoke no +word. She only looked inquiringly, seriously, at her new-found friend, +and presently dropped the blanket away from her, and sat up firmly, as +though she felt she was not altogether an alien now, and had a right to +hold herself proudly among white people, as she did in her own country +and with her own tribe, who had greatly admired her. Certainly Mrs. +Townley could find no fault with the woman as an Indian. She had taste, +carried her clothes well, and was superbly fresh in appearance, though +her hair still bore very slight traces of the grease which even the most +aristocratic Indians use. + +But Lali would not talk. Mrs. Townley was anxious that the girl should +be dressed in European costume, and offered to lend and rearrange +dresses of her own, but she came in collision with Mr. Armour's +instructions. So she had to assume a merely kind and comforting +attitude. The wife had not the slightest idea where she was going, and +even when Mackenzie, at Mrs. Townley's oft-repeated request, explained +very briefly and unpicturesquely, she only looked incredulous or +unconcerned. Yet the ship, its curious passengers, the dining saloon, +the music, the sea, and all, had given her suggestions of what was to +come. They had expected that at table she would be awkward and ignorant +to a degree. But she had at times eaten at the trader's table at Fort +Charles, and had learned how to use a knife and fork. She had also +been a favourite with the trader's wife, who had taught her very many +civilised things. Her English, though far from abundant, was good. +Those, therefore, who were curious and rude enough to stare at her were +probably disappointed to find that she ate like "any Christom man." + +"How do you think the Armours will receive her?" said Lambert to +Mrs. Townley, of whose judgment on short acquaintance he had come to +entertain a high opinion. + +Mrs. Townley had a pretty way of putting her head to one side and +speaking very piquantly. She had had it as a girl; she had not lost it +as a woman, any more than she had lost a soft little spontaneous laugh +which was one of her unusual charms--for few women can laugh audibly +with effect. She laughed very softly now, and, her sense of humour +supervening for the moment, she said: + +"Really, you have asked me a conundrum. I fancy I see Mrs. Armour's face +when she gets the news,--at the breakfast-table, of course, and gives +a little shriek, and says: 'General! oh, General!' But it is all very +shocking, you know," she added, in a lower voice. "Still I think they +will receive her and do the best they can for her; because, you see, +there she is, married hard and fast. She bears the Armour name, and +is likely to make them all very unhappy, indeed, if she determines to +retaliate upon them for any neglect." + +"Yes. But how to retaliate, Mrs. Townley?" Lambert had not a suggestive +mind. + +"Well, for instance, suppose they sent her away into seclusion,--with +Frank's consent, another serious question,--and she should take the +notion to fly her retirement, and appear inopportunely at some social +function clothed as she is now! I fancy her blanket would be a wet one +in such a case--if you will pardon the little joke." + +Lambert sighed. "Poor Frank--poor devil!" he said, almost beneath his +breath. + +"And wherefore poor Frank? Do you think he or the Armours of Greyhope +are the only ones at stake in this? What about this poor girl? Just +think why he married her, if our suspicions are right,--and then imagine +her feelings when she wakes to the truth over there, as some time she is +sure to do!" + +Then Lambert began to see the matter in a different light, and +his sympathy for Francis Armour grew less as his pity for the girl +increased. In fact, the day before they got to Liverpool he swore at +Armour more than once, and was anxious concerning the reception of the +heathen wife by her white relatives. + +Had he been present at a certain scene at Greyhope a day or two before, +he would have been still more anxious. It was the custom, at breakfast, +for Mrs. Armour to open her husband's letters and read them while he was +engaged with his newspaper, and hand to him afterwards those that were +important. This morning Marion noticed a letter from Frank amongst the +pile, and, without a word, pounced upon it. She was curious--as any +woman would be--to see how he took Miss Sherwood's action. Her father +was deep in his paper at the time. Her mother was reading other letters. +Marion read the first few lines with a feeling of almost painful wonder, +the words were so curious, cynical, and cold. + +Richard sat opposite her. He also was engaged with his paper, but, +chancing to glance up, he saw that she was becoming very pale, and that +the letter trembled in her fingers. Being a little short-sighted, he +was not near enough to see the handwriting. He did not speak yet. He +watched. Presently, seeing her grow more excited, he touched her foot +under the table. She looked up, and caught his eye. She gasped slightly. +She gave him a warning look, and turned away from her mother. Then she +went on reading to the bitter end. + +Presently a little cry escaped her against her will. At that her mother +looked up, but she only saw her daughter's back, as she rose hurriedly +from the table, saying that she would return in a moment. Mrs. Armour, +however, had been startled. She knew that Marion had been reading a +letter, and, with a mother's instinct, her thoughts were instantly on +Frank. She spoke quickly, almost sharply: + +"Marion, come here." + +Richard had risen. He came round the table, and, as the girl obeyed her +mother, took the letter from her fingers and hastily glanced over it. +Mrs. Armour came forward and took her daughter's arm. "Marion," she +said, "there is something wrong--with Frank. What is it?" + +General Armour was now looking up at them all, curiously, questioningly, +through his glasses, his paper laid down, his hands resting on the +table. + +Marion could not answer. She was sick with regret, vexation, and shame; +at the first flush, death--for Frank--had been preferable to this. She +had a considerable store of vanity; she was not very philosophical. +Besides, she was not married; and what Captain Vidall, her devoted +admirer and possible husband, would think of this heathenish alliance +was not a cheer ful thought to her. She choked down a sob, and waved her +hand towards Richard to answer for her. He was pale too, but cool. He +understood the case instantly; he made up his mind instantly also as to +what ought to be--must be--done. + +"Well, mother," he said, "it is about Frank. But he is all right; that +is, he is alive and well-in body. But he has arranged a hateful little +embarrassment for us--he is married." + +"Married!" exclaimed his mother faintly. "Oh, poor Lady Agnes!" + +Marion sniffed a little viciously at this. + +"Married? Married?" said his father. "Well, what about it? eh? what +about it?" + +The mother wrung her hands. "Oh, I know it is something +dreadful--dreadful! He has married some horrible wild person, or +something." + +Richard, miserable as he was, remained calm. "Well," said he, "I don't +know about her being horrible. Frank is silent on that point; but she is +wild enough--a wild Indian, in fact." + +"Indian? Indian? Good God--a red nigger!" cried General Armour harshly, +starting to his feet. + +"An Indian? a wild Indian?" Mrs. Armour whispered faintly, as she +dropped into a chair. + +"And she'll be here in two or three days," fluttered Marion +hysterically. + +Meanwhile Richard had hastily picked up the Times. "She is due here the +day after to-morrow," he said deliberately. "Frank is as decisive as he +is rash. Well, it's a melancholy tit-for-tat." + +"What do you mean by tit-for-tat?" cried his father angrily. + +"Oh, I mean that--that we tried to hasten Julia's marriage--with the +other fellow, and he is giving us one in return; and you will all agree +that it's a pretty permanent one." + +The old soldier recovered himself, and was beside his wife in an +instant. He took her hand. "Don't fret about it, wife," he said; "it's +an ugly business, but we must put up with it. The boy was out of his +head. We are old, now, my dear, but there was a time when we should have +resented such a thing as much as Frank--though not in the same fashion, +perhaps--not in the same fashion." The old man pressed his lips hard to +keep down his emotion. + +"Oh, how could he--how could he!" said his mother: "we meant everything +for the best." + +"It is always dangerous business meddling with lovers' affairs," +rejoined Richard. "Lovers take themselves very seriously indeed, +and--well, here the thing is! Now, who will go and fetch her from +Liverpool? I should say that both my father and my mother ought to go." + +Thus Richard took it for granted that they would receive Frank's Indian +wife into their home. He intended that, so far as he was concerned, +there should be no doubt upon the question from the beginning. + +"Never--she shall never come here!" said Marion, with flashing eyes; "a +common squaw, with greasy hair, and blankets, and big mouth, and black +teeth, who eats with her fingers and grunts! If she does, if she is +brought to Greyhope, I will never show my face in the world again. Frank +married the animal: why does he ship her home to us? Why didn't he come +with her? Why does he not take her to a home of his own? Why should he +send her here, to turn our house into a menagerie?" + +Marion drew her skirt back, as if the common squaw, with her blankets +and grease, was at that moment near her. + +"Well, you see," continued Richard, "that is just it. As I said, Frank +arranged this little complication with a trifling amount of malice. +No doubt he didn't come with her because he wished to test the family +loyalty and hospitality; but a postscript to this letter says that his +solicitor has instructions to meet his wife at Liverpool, and bring her +on here in case we fail to show her proper courtesy." + +General Armour here spoke. "He has carried the war of retaliation very +far indeed, but men do mad things when their blood is up, as I have seen +often. That doesn't alter our clear duty in the matter. If the woman +were bad, or shameful, it would be a different thing; if--" + +Marion interrupted: "She has ridden bareback across the continent like a +jockey,--like a common jockey, and she wears a blanket, and she doesn't +know a word of English, and she will sit on the floor!" + +"Well," said her father, "all these things are not sins, and she must be +taught better." + +"Joseph, how can you?" said Mrs. Armour indignantly. "She cannot, she +shall not come here. Think of Marion. Think of our position." + +She hid her troubled, tear-stained face behind her handkerchief. At the +same time she grasped her husband's hand. She knew that he was right. +She honoured him in her heart for the position he had taken, but she +could not resist the natural impulse of a woman where her taste and +convention were shocked. + +The old man was very pale, but there was no mistaking his determination. +He had been more indignant than any of them, at first, but he had an +unusual sense of justice when he got face to face with it, as Richard +had here helped him to do. "We do not know that the woman has done any +wrong," he said. "As for our name and position, they, thank God! are +where a mad marriage cannot unseat them. We have had much prosperity in +the world, my wife; we have had neither death nor dishonour; we--" + +"If this isn't dishonour, father, what is?" Marion flashed out. + +He answered calmly. "My daughter, it is a great misfortune, it will +probably be a lifelong trial, but it is not necessarily dishonour." + +"You never can make a scandal less by trying to hide it," said Richard, +backing up his father. "It is all pretty awkward, but I daresay we shall +get some amusement out of it in the end." + +"Richard," said his mother through her tears, "you are flippant and +unkind!" + +"Indeed, mother," was his reply, "I never was more serious in my life. +When I spoke of amusement, I meant comedy merely, not fun--the thing +that looks like tragedy and has a happy ending. That is what I mean, +mother, nothing more." + +"You are always so very deep, Richard," remarked Marion ironically, "and +care so very little how the rest of us feel about things. You have +no family pride. If you had married a squaw, we shouldn't have been +surprised. You could have camped in the grounds with your wild woman, +and never have been missed--by the world," she hastened to add, for she +saw a sudden pain in his face. + +He turned from them all a little wearily, and limped over to the window. +He stood looking out into the limes where he and Frank had played when +boys. He put his finger up, his unhandsome finger, and caught away some +moisture from his eyes. He did not dare to let them see his face, nor +yet to speak. Marion had cut deeper than she knew, and he would carry +the wound for many a day before it healed. + +But his sister felt instantly how cruel she had been, as she saw him +limp away, and caught sight of the bowed shoulders and the prematurely +grey hair. Her heart smote her. She ran over, and impulsively put her +hands on his shoulder. "Oh, Dick," she said, "forgive me, Dick! I didn't +mean it. I was angry and foolish and hateful." + +He took one of her hands as it rested on his shoulder, she standing +partly behind him, and raised it to his lips, but he did not turn to +her; he could not. + +"It is all right--all right," he said; "it doesn't make any difference. +Let us think of Frank and what we have got to do. Let us stand together, +Marion; that is best." + +But her tears were dropping on his shoulder, as her forehead rested on +her hand. He knew now that, whatever Frank's wife was, she would not +have an absolute enemy here; for when Marion cried her heart was soft. +She was clay in the hands of the potter whom we call Mercy--more often +a stranger to the hearts of women than of men. At the other side of the +room also the father and mother, tearless now, watched these two; and +the mother saw her duty better and with less rebelliousness. She had +felt it from the first, but she could not bring her mind to do it. +They held each other's hands in silence. Presently General Armour said: +"Richard, your mother and I will go to Liverpool to meet Frank's wife." + +Marion shuddered a little, and her hands closed on Richard's shoulder, +but she said nothing. + + + + +CHAPTER III. OUT OF THE NORTH + +It was a beautiful day--which was so much in favour of Mrs. Frank Armour +in relation to her husband's people. General Armour and his wife had +come down from London by the latest train possible, that their suspense +at Liverpool might be short. They said little to each other, but when +they did speak it was of things very different from the skeleton which +they expected to put into the family cupboard presently. Each was trying +to spare the other. It was very touching. They naturally looked upon the +matter in its most unpromising light, because an Indian was an Indian, +and this unknown savage from Fort Charles was in violent contrast to +such desirable persons as Lady Agnes Martling. Not that the Armours were +zealous for mere money and title, but the thing itself was altogether +a propos, as Mrs. Armour had more naively than correctly put it. The +general, whose knowledge of character and the circumstances of life +was considerable, had worked out the thing with much accuracy. He had +declared to Richard, in their quiet talk upon the subject, that Frank +must have been anything but sober when he did it. He had previously +called it a policy of retaliation; so that now he was very near the +truth. When they arrived at the dock at Liverpool, the Aphrodite was +just making into the harbour. + +"Egad," said General Armour to himself, "Sebastopol was easier than +this; for fighting I know, and being peppered I know, by Jews, Greeks, +infidels, and heretics; but to take a savage to my arms and do for her +what her godfathers and godmothers never did, is worse than the devil's +dance at Delhi." + +What Mrs. Armour, who was not quite so definite as her husband, thought, +it would be hard to tell; but probably grief for, and indignation at, +her son, were uppermost in her mind. She had quite determined upon +her course. None could better carry that high, neutral look of social +superiority than she. + +Please Heaven, she said to herself, no one should see that her +equanimity was shaken. They had brought one servant with them, who had +been gravely and yet conventionally informed that his young master's +wife, an Indian chieftainess, was expected. There are few family +troubles but find their way to servants' hall with an uncomfortable +speed; for, whether or not stone walls have ears, certainly men-servants +and maid-servants have eyes that serve for ears, and ears that do more +than their bounden duty. Boulter, the footman, knew his business. When +informed of the coming of Mrs. Francis Armour, the Indian chieftainess, +his face was absolutely expressionless; his "Yessir" was as mechanical +as usual. On the dock he was marble--indifferent. When the passengers +began to land, he showed no excitement. He was decorously alert. When +the crucial moment came, he was imperturbable. Boulter was an excellent +servant. So said Edward Lambert to himself after the event; so, +likewise, said Mrs. Townley to herself when the thing was over; so +declared General Armour many a time after, and once very emphatically, +just before he raised Boulter's wages. + +As the boat neared Liverpool, Lambert and Mrs. Townley grew nervous. The +truth regarding the Indian wife had become known among the passengers, +and most were very curious--some in a well-bred fashion, some +intrusively, vulgarly. Mackenzie, Lali's companion, like Boulter, was +expressionless in face. She had her duty to do, paid for liberally, and +she would do it. Lali might have had a more presentable and dignified +attendant, but not one more worthy. It was noticeable that the captain +of the ship and all the officers had been markedly courteous to Mrs. +Armour throughout the voyage, but, to their credit, not ostentatiously +so. When the vessel was brought to anchor and the passengers were being +put upon the tender, the captain came and made his respectful adieus, +as though Lali were a lady of title in her own right, and not an Indian +girl married to a man acting under the influence of brandy and malice. +General Armour and Mrs. Armour were always grateful to Lambert and Mrs. +Townley for the part they played in this desperate little comedy. They +stood still and watchful as the passengers came ashore one by one. They +saw that they were the centre of unusual interest, but General Armour +was used to bearing himself with a grim kind of indifference in public, +and his wife was calm, and so somewhat disappointed those who probably +expected the old officer and his wife to be distressed. Frank Armour's +solicitor was also there, but, with good taste, he held aloof. The two +needed all their courage, however, when they saw a figure in buckskin +and blanket step upon the deck, attended by a very ordinary, austere, +and shabbily-dressed Scotswoman. But immediately behind them were +Edward Lambert and Mrs. Townley, and these, with their simple tact, +naturalness, and freedom from any sort of embarrassment, acted as foils, +and relieved the situation. + +General Armour advanced, hat in hand. "You are my son's wife?" he said +courteously to this being in a blanket. + +She looked up and shook her head slightly, for she did not quite +understand; but she recognised his likeness to her husband, and +presently she smiled up musingly. Mackenzie repeated to her what General +Armour had said. She nodded now, a flash of pleasure lighting up her +face, and she slid out her beautiful hand to him. The general took it +and pressed it mechanically, his lips twitching slightly. He pressed it +far harder than he meant, for his feelings were at tension. She winced +slightly, and involuntarily thrust out her other hand, as if to relieve +his pressure. As she did so the blanket fell away from her head and +shoulders. Lambert, with excellent intuition, caught it, and threw it +across his arm. Then, quickly, and without embarrassment, he and Mrs. +Townley greeted General Armour, who returned the greetings gravely, but +in a singular, confidential tone, which showed his gratitude. Then +he raised his hat again to Lali, and said: "Come and let me introduce +you--to your husband's mother." + +The falling back of that blanket had saved the situation; for when the +girl stood without it in her buckskin garments there was a dignity in +her bearing which carried off the bizarre event. There was timidity in +her face, and yet a kind of pride too, though she was only a savage. The +case, even at this critical moment, did not seem quite hopeless. When +they came to Mrs. Armour, Lali shrank away timidly from the look in the +mother's eyes, and, shivering slightly, looked round for her blanket. +But Lambert had deftly passed it on to the footman. Presently Mrs. +Armour took both the girl's hands in hers (perhaps she did it because +the eyes of the public were on her, but that is neither here nor +there--she did it), and kissed her on the cheek. Then they moved away to +a closed carriage. + +And that was the second act in Frank Armour's comedy of errors. + + + + +CHAPTER IV. IN THE NAME OF THE FAMILY + +The journey from Liverpool to Greyhope was passed in comparative +silence. The Armours had a compartment to themselves, and they made +the Indian girl as comfortable as possible without self-consciousness, +without any artificial politeness. So far, what they had done was a +matter of duty, not of will; but they had done their duty naturally +all their lives, and it was natural to them now. They had no personal +feelings towards the girl one way or another, as yet. It was trying to +them that people stared into the compartment at different stations. It +presently dawned upon General Armour that it might also be trying +to their charge. Neither he nor his wife had taken into account the +possibility of the girl having feelings to be hurt. But he had noticed +Lali shrink visibly and flush slightly when some one stared harder +than usual, and this troubled him. It opened up a possibility. He began +indefinitely to see that they were not the only factors in the equation. +He was probably a little vexed that he had not seen it before; for +he wished to be a just man. He was wont to quote with more or less +austerity--chiefly the result of his professional life--this: + + "For justice, all place a temple, and all season summer." + +And, man of war as he was, he had another saying which was much in his +mouth; and he lived up to it with considerable sincerity: + + "Still in thy right hand carry gentle peace, + To silence envious tongues." + +He whispered to his wife. It would have been hard to tell from her look +what she thought of the matter, but presently she changed seats with +her husband, that he might, by holding his newspaper at a certain angle, +shield the girl from intrusive gazers. + +At every station the same scene was enacted. And inquisitive people must +have been surprised to see how monotonously ordinary was the manner of +the three white people in the compartment. Suddenly, at a station near +London, General Armour gave a start, and used a strong expression under +his breath. Glancing at the "Marriage" column, he saw a notice to the +effect that on a certain day of a certain month, Francis Gilbert, the +son of General Joseph Armour, C.B., of Greyhope, Hertfordshire, and +Cavendish Square, was married to Lali, the daughter of Eye-of-the-Moon, +chief of the Bloods, at her father's lodge in the Saskatchewan Valley. +This had been inserted by Frank Armour's solicitor, according to his +instructions, on the day that the Aphrodite was due at Liverpool. +General Armour did not at first intend to show this to his wife, but on +second thought he did, because he knew she would eventually come to +know of it, and also because she saw that something had moved him. +She silently reached out her hand for the paper. He handed it to her, +pointing to the notice. + +Mrs. Armour was unhappy, but her self-possession was admirable, and she +said nothing. She turned her face to the window, and sat for a long time +looking out. She did not turn to the others, for her eyes were full of +tears, and she did not dare to wipe them away, nor yet to let them be +seen. She let them dry there. She was thinking of her son, her favourite +son, for whom she had been so ambitious, and for whom, so far as she +could, and retain her self-respect, she had delicately intrigued, that +he might happily and befittingly marry. She knew that in the matter of +his engagement she had not done what was best for him, but how could she +have guessed that this would be the result? She also was sure that when +the first flush of his anger and disappointment had passed, and he came +to view this thing with cooler mind, he would repent deeply--for a whole +lifetime. She was convinced that he had not married this savage for +anything which could make marriage endurable. Under the weight of the +thought she was likely to forget that the young alien wife might have +lost terribly in the event also. + +The arrival at Euston and the departure from St. Pancras were rather +painful all round, for, though there was no waiting at either place, the +appearance of an Indian girl in native costume was uncommon enough, even +in cosmopolitan London, to draw much attention. Besides, the placards of +the evening papers were blazoned with such announcements as this: + + A RED INDIAN GIRL + MARRIED INTO + AN ENGLISH COUNTY FAMILY. + +Some one had telegraphed particulars--distorted particulars--over from +Liverpool, and all the evening sheets had their portion of extravagance +and sensation. General Armour became a little more erect and austere as +he caught sight of these placards, and Mrs. Armour groaned inwardly; but +their faces were inscrutable, and they quietly conducted their charge, +minus her blanket, to the train which was to take them to St. Albans, +and were soon wheeling homeward. + +At Euston they parted with Lambert and Mrs. Townley, who quite +simply and conventionally bade good-bye to them and their Indian +daughter-in-law. Lali had grown to like Mrs. Townley, and when they +parted she spoke a few words quickly in her own tongue, and then +immediately was confused, because she remembered that she could not be +understood. But presently she said in halting English that the face of +her white friend was good, and she hoped that she would come one time +and sit beside her in her wigwam, for she would be sad till her husband +travelled to her. + +Mrs. Townley made some polite reply in simple English, pressed the +girl's hand sympathetically, and hurried away. Before she parted from +Mr. Lambert, however, she said, with a pretty touch of cynicism: +"I think I see Marion Armour listening to her sister-in-law issue +invitations to her wigwam. I am afraid I should be rather depressed +myself if I had to be sisterly to a wigwam lady." + +"But I say, Mrs. Townley," rejoined Lambert seriously, as he loitered +at the steps of her carriage, "I shouldn't be surprised if my Lady +Wigwam--a rather apt and striking title, by the way--turned out better +than we think. She carried herself rippingly without the blanket, and I +never saw a more beautiful hand in my life--but one," he added, as his +fingers at that moment closed on hers, and held them tightly, in spite +of the indignant little effort at withdrawal. "She may yet be able to +give them all points in dignity and that kind of thing, and pay Master +Frank back in his own coin. I do not see, after all, that he is the +martyr." + +Lambert's voice got softer, for he still held Mrs. Townley's fingers, +the footman not having the matter in his eye,--and then he spoke still +more seriously on sentimental affairs of his own, in which he evidently +hoped she would take some interest. Indeed, it is hard to tell how far +the case might have been pushed if she had not suddenly looked a little +forbidding and imperious. For even people of no notable height, with +soft features, dark brown eyes, and a delightful little laugh, may +appear rather regal at times. Lambert did not quite understand why she +should take this attitude. If he had been as keen regarding his own +affairs of the affections as in the case of Frank Armour and his Indian +bride, he had known that every woman has in her mind the occasion when +she should and when she should not be wooed, and nothing disappoints her +more than a declaration at a time which is not her time. If it does +not fall out as she wishes it, retrospect, a dear thing to a woman, +is spoiled. Many a man has been sent to the right-about because he has +ventured his proposal at the wrong time. What would have occurred to +Lambert it is hard to tell; but he saw that something was wrong, and +stopped in time. + +When General Armour and his party reached Greyhope it was late in the +evening. The girl seemed tired and confused by the events of the day, +and did as she was directed, indifferently, limply. But when they +entered the gates of Greyhope and travelled up the long avenue of limes, +she looked round her somewhat eagerly, and drew a long sigh, maybe +of relief or pleasure. She presently stretched out a hand almost +caressingly to the thick trees and the grass, and said aloud: "Oh, the +beautiful trees and the long grass!" There was a whirr of birds' wings +among the branches, and then, presently, there rose from a distance the +sweet, gurgling whistle of the nightingale. A smile as of reminiscence +crossed her face. Then she said, as if to herself: "It is the same. +I shall not die. I hear the birds' wings, and one is singing. It is +pleasant to sleep in the long grass when the nights are summer, and to +hang your cradle in the trees." + +She had asked for her own blanket, refusing a rug, when they left St. +Albans, and it had been given to her. She drew it about her now with a +feeling of comfort, and seemed to lose the horrible sense of strangeness +which had almost convulsed her when she was put into the carriage at the +railway station. Her reserve had hidden much of what she really felt; +but the drive through the limes had shown General Armour and his wife +that they had to do with a nature having capacities for sensitive +feeling; which, it is sometimes thought, is only the prerogative of +certain well-bred civilisations. + +But it was impossible that they should yet, or for many a day, feel any +sense of kinship with this aboriginal girl. Presently the carriage drew +up to the doorway, which was instantly opened to them. A broad belt +of light streamed out upon the stone steps. Far back in the hall stood +Marion, one hand upon the balustrade of the staircase, the other tightly +held at her side, as if to nerve herself for the meeting. The eyes of +the Indian girl pierced the light, and, as if by a strange instinct, +found those of Marion, even before she left the carriage. Lali felt +vaguely that here was her possible enemy. As she stepped out of the +carriage, General Armour's hand under her elbow to assist her, she drew +her blanket something more closely about her, and so proceeded up +the steps. The composure of the servants was, in the circumstances, +remarkable. It needed to have been, for the courage displayed by Lali's +two new guardians during the day almost faltered at the threshold of +their own home. Any sign of surprise or amusement on the part of the +domestics would have given them some painful moments subsequently. But +all was perfectly decorous. Marion still stood motionless, almost dazed, +The group advanced into the hall, and there paused, as if waiting for +her. + +At that moment Richard came out of the study at her right hand, took her +arm, and said quietly: "Come along, Marion. Let us be as brave as our +father and mother." + +She gave a hard little gasp and seemed to awake as from a dream. She +quickly glided forwards ahead of him, kissed her mother and father +almost abruptly, then turned to the young wife with a scrutinising +eye. "Marion," said her father, "this is your sister." Marion stood +hesitating, confused. + +"Marion, dear," repeated her mother ceremoniously, "this is your +brother's wife.--Lali, this is your husband's sister, Marion." + +Mackenzie translated the words swiftly to the girl, and her eyes flashed +wide. Then in a low voice she said in English: "Yes, Marion, How!" + +It is probable that neither Marion nor any one present knew quite the +meaning of 'How', save Richard, and he could not suppress a smile, it +sounded so absurd and aboriginal. But at this exclamation Marion once +more came to herself. She could not possibly go so far as her mother did +at the dock and kiss this savage, but, with a rather sudden grasp of +the hand, she said, a little hysterically, for her brain was going round +like a wheel,--"Wo-won't you let me take your blanket?" and forthwith +laid hold of it with tremulous politeness. + +The question sounded, for the instant, so ludicrous to Richard that, in +spite of the distressing situation, he had to choke back a laugh. Years +afterwards, if he wished for any momentary revenge upon Marion (and he +had a keen sense of wordy retaliation), he simply said: "Wo-won't you +let me take your blanket?" + +Of course the Indian girl did not understand, but she submitted to the +removal of this uncommon mantle, and stood forth a less trying sight +to Marion's eyes; for, as we said before, her buckskin costume set off +softly the good outlines of her form. + +The Indian girl's eyes wandered from Marion to Richard. They wandered +from anxiety, doubt, and a bitter kind of reserve, to cordiality, +sympathy, and a grave kind of humour. Instantly the girl knew that she +had in eccentric Richard Armour a frank friend. Unlike as he was to +his brother, there was still in their eyes the same friendliness and +humanity. That is, it was the same look that Frank carried when he first +came to her father's lodge. + +Richard held out his hand with a cordial little laugh and said: "Ah, ah, +very glad, very glad! Just in time for supper. Come along. How is Frank, +eh? how is Frank? Just so; just so. Pleasant journey, I suppose?" He +shook her hand warmly three or four times, and, as he held it, placed +his left hand over it and patted it patriarchally, as was his custom +with all the children and all the old ladies that he knew. + +"Richard," said his mother, in a studiously neutral voice, "you might +see about the wine." + +Then Richard appeared to recover himself, and did as he was requested, +but not until his brother's wife had said to him in English, as they +courteously drew her towards the staircase: "Oh, my brother Richard, +How!" + +But the first strain and suspense were now over for the family, and it +is probable that never had they felt such relief as when they sat down +behind closed doors in their own rooms for a short respite, while the +Indian girl was closeted alone with Mackenzie and a trusted maid, in +what she called her wigwam. + + + + +CHAPTER V. AN AWKWARD HALF-HOUR + +It is just as well, perhaps, that the matter had become notorious. +Otherwise the Armours had lived in that unpleasant condition of being +constantly "discovered." It was simply a case of aiming at absolute +secrecy, which had been frustrated by Frank himself, or bold and +unembarrassed acknowledgment and an attempt to carry things off with +a high hand. The latter course was the only one possible. It had +originally been Richard's idea, appropriated by General Armour, and +accepted by Mrs. Armour and Marion with what grace was possible. The +publication of the event prepared their friends, and precluded the +necessity for reserve. What the friends did not know was whether they +ought or ought not to commiserate the Armours. It was a difficult +position. A death, an accident, a lost reputation, would have been +easy to them; concerning these there could be no doubt. But an Indian +daughter-in-law, a person in moccasins, was scarcely a thing to be +congratulated upon; and yet sympathy and consolation might be much +misplaced; no one could tell how the Armours would take it. For even +their closest acquaintances knew what kind of delicate hauteur was +possible to them. Even the "'centric" Richard, who visited the cottages +of the poor, carrying soup and luxuries of many kinds, accompanying them +with the most wholesome advice a single man ever gave to families and +the heads of families, whose laugh was so cheery and spontaneous,--and +face so uncommonly grave and sad at times,--had a faculty for manner. +With astonishing suddenness he could raise insurmountable barriers; and +people, not of his order, who occasionally presumed on his simplicity of +life and habits, found themselves put distinctly ill at ease by a quiet, +curious look in his eye. No man was ever more the recluse and at the +same time the man of the world. He had had his bitter little comedy of +life, but it was different from that of his brother Frank. It was buried +very deep; not one of his family knew of it: Edward Lambert, and one +or two others who had good reason never to speak of it, were the only +persons possessing his secret. + +But all England knew of Frank's mesalliance. And the question was, What +would people do? They very properly did nothing at first. They waited to +see how the Armours would act: they did not congratulate; they did not +console; that was left to those papers which chanced to resent General +Armour's politics, and those others which were emotional and sensational +on every subject--particularly so where women were concerned. + +It was the beginning of the season, but the Armours had decided that +they would not go to town. That is, the general and his wife were +not going. They felt that they ought to be at Greyhope with their +daughter-in-law--which was to their credit. Regarding Marion they +had nothing to say. Mrs. Armour inclined to her going to town for the +season, to visit Mrs. Townley, who had thoughtfully written to her, +saying that she was very lonely, and begging Mrs. Armour to let her +come, if she would. She said that of course Marion would see much of her +people in town just the same. Mrs. Townley was a very clever and tactful +woman. + +She guessed that General Armour and his wife were not likely to come +to town, but that must not appear, and the invitation should be on a +different basis--as it was. + +It is probable that Marion saw through the delicate plot, but that did +not make her like Mrs. Townley less. These little pieces of art make +life possible, these tender fictions! + +Marion was, however, not in good humour; she was nervous and a little +petulant. She had a high-strung temperament, a sensitive perception of +the fitness of things, and a horror of what was gauche; and she would, +in brief, make a rather austere person if the lines of life did not run +in her favour. She had something of Frank's impulsiveness and temper; +it would have been a great blessing to her if she had had a portion of +Richard's philosophical humour also. She was at a point of tension--her +mother and Richard could see that. She was anxious--though for the world +she would not have had it thought so--regarding Captain Vidall. She had +never cared for anybody but him; it was possible she never would. But he +did not know this, and she was not absolutely sure that his evident but +as yet informal love would stand this strain--which shows how people +very honourable and perfect-minded in themselves may allow a large +margin to other people who are presumably honourable and perfect-minded +also. There was no engagement between them, and he was not bound in any +way, and could, therefore, without slashing the hem of the code, retire +without any apology; but they had had that unspoken understanding which +most people who love each other show even before a word of declaration +has passed their lips. If he withdrew because of this scandal there +might be some awkward hours for Frank Armour's wife at Greyhope; but, +more than that, there would be a very hard-hearted young lady to play +her part in the deceitful world; she would be as merciless as she could +be. Naturally, being young, she exaggerated the importance of the event, +and brooded on it. It was different with her father and mother. They +were shocked and indignant at first, but when the first scene had been +faced they began to make the best of things all round. That is, they +proceeded at once to turn the North American Indian into a European--a +matter of no little difficulty. A governess was discussed; but General +Armour did not like the idea, and Richard opposed it heartily. She +must be taught English and educated, and made possible in "Christian +clothing," as Mrs. Armour put it. Of the education they almost +despaired--all save Richard; time, instruction, vanity, and a dressmaker +might do much as to the other. + +The evening of her arrival, Lali would not, with any urging, put on +clothes of Marion's which had been sent in to her. And the next morning +it was still the same. + +She came into the breakfast-room dressed still in buckskin and +moccasins, and though the grease had been taken out of her hair it +was still combed flat. Mrs. Armour had tried to influence her through +Mackenzie, but to no purpose. She was placidly stubborn. + +It had been unwisely told her by Mackenzie that they were Marion's +clothes. They scarcely took in the fact that the girl had pride, that +she was the daughter of a chief, and a chieftainess herself, and that it +was far from happy to offer her Marion's clothes to wear. + +Now, Richard, when he was a lad, had been on a journey to the South +Seas, and had learned some of the peculiarities of the native mind, and +he did not suppose that American Indians differed very much from certain +well-bred Polynesians in little matters of form and good taste. When +his mother told him what had occurred before Lali entered the +breakfast-room, he went directly to what he believed was the cause, +and advised tact with conciliation. He also pointed out that Lali was +something taller than Marion, and that she might be possessed of that +general trait of humanity-vanity. Mrs. Armour had not yet got used to +thinking of the girl in another manner than an intrusive being of a +lower order, who was there to try their patience, but also to do their +bidding. She had yet to grasp the fact that, being her son's wife, she +must have, therefore, a position in the house, exercising a certain +authority over the servants, who, to Mrs. Armour, at first seemed of +superior stuff. But Richard said to her: "Mother, I fancy you don't +quite grasp the position. The girl is the daughter of a chief, and the +descendant of a family of chiefs, perhaps through many generations. In +her own land she has been used to respect, and has been looked up to +pretty generally. Her garments are, I fancy, considered very smart in +the Hudson's Bay country; and a finely decorated blanket like hers is +expensive up there. You see, we have to take the thing by comparison; so +please give the girl a chance." + +And Mrs. Armour answered wearily, "I suppose you are right, Richard; you +generally are in the end, though why you should be I do not know, for +you never see anything of the world any more, and you moon about among +the cottagers. I suppose it's your native sense and the books you read." + +Richard laughed softly, but there was a queer ring in the laugh, and +he came over stumblingly and put his arm round his mother's shoulder. +"Never mind how I get such sense as I have, mother; I have so much time +to think, it would be a wonder if I hadn't some. But I think we had +better try to study her, and coax her along, and not fob her off as a +very inferior person, or we shall have our hands full in earnest. My +opinion is, she has got that which will save her and us too--a very high +spirit, which only needs opportunity to develop into a remarkable thing; +and, take my word for it, mother, if we treat her as a chieftainess, or +princess, or whatever she is, and not simply as a dusky person, we shall +come off better and she will come off better in the long run. She is not +darker than a Spaniard, anyhow." At this point Marion entered the room, +and her mother rehearsed briefly to her what their talk had been. Marion +had had little sleep, and she only lifted her eyebrows at them at first. +She was in little mood for conciliation. She remembered all at once +that at supper the evening before her sister-in-law had said How! to +the butler, and had eaten the mayonnaise with a dessert spoon. But +presently, because she saw they waited for her to speak, she said, with +a little flutter of maliciousness: "Wouldn't it be well for Richard--he +has plenty of time, and we are also likely to have it now--to put us all +through a course of instruction for the training of chieftainesses? +And when do you think she will be ready for a drawing-room--Her Majesty +Queen Victoria's, or ours?" + +"Marion!" said Mrs. Armour severely; but Richard came round to her, and, +with his fresh, child-like humour, put his arm round her waist and added +"Marion, I'd be willing to bet--if I were in the habit of betting--my +shaky old pins here against a lock of your hair that you may present her +at any drawing-room--ours or Queen Victoria's--in two years, if we go at +it right; and it would serve Master Frank very well if we turned her out +something, after all." + +To which Mrs. Armour responded almost eagerly: "I wish it were only +possible, Richard. And what you say is true, I suppose, that she is of +rank in her own country, whatever value that may have." + +Richard saw his advantage. "Well, mother," he said, "a chieftainess is a +chieftainess, and I don't know but to announce her as such, and--" + +"And be proud of it, as it were," put in Marion, "and pose her, and +make her a prize--a Pocahontas, wasn't it?--and go on pretending world +without end!" Marion's voice was still slightly grating, but there +was in it too a faint sound of hope. "Perhaps," she said to herself, +"Richard is right." + +At this point the door opened and Lali entered, shown in by Colvin, +her newly-appointed maid, and followed by Mackenzie, and, as we said, +dressed still in her heathenish garments. She had a strong sense of +dignity, for she stood still and waited. Perhaps nothing could have +impressed Marion more. Had Lali been subservient simply, an entirely +passive, unintelligent creature, she would probably have tyrannised over +her in a soft, persistent fashion, and despised her generally. But Mrs. +Armour and Marion saw that this stranger might become very troublesome +indeed, if her temper were to have play. They were aware of capacities +for passion in those dark eyes, so musing yet so active in expression, +which moved swiftly from one object to another and then suddenly became +resolute. + +Both mother and daughter came forward, and held out their hands, +wishing her a pleasant good-morning, and were followed by Richard, and +immediately by General Armour, who had entered soon after her. She had +been keen enough to read (if a little vaguely) behind the scenes, and +her mind was wakening slowly to the peculiarity of the position she +occupied. The place awed her, and had broken her rest by perplexing her +mind, and she sat down to the breakfast-table with a strange hunted look +in her face. But opposite to her was a window opening to the ground, and +beyond it were the limes and beeches and a wide perfect sward and far +away a little lake, on which swans and wild fowl fluttered. Presently, +as she sat silent, eating little, her eyes lifted to the window. They +flashed instantly, her face lighted up with a weird kind of charm, and +suddenly she got to her feet with Indian exclamations on her lips, and, +as if unconscious of them all, went swiftly to the window and out of +it, waving her hands up and down once or twice to the trees and the +sunlight. + +"What did she say?" said Mrs. Armour, rising with the others. + +"She said," replied Mackenzie, as she hurried towards the window, "that +they were her beautiful woods, and there were wild birds flying and +swimming in the water, as in her own country." + +By this time all were at the window, Richard arriving last, and the +Indian girl turned on them, her body all quivering with excitement, +laughed a low, bird-like laugh, and then, clapping her hands above her +head, she swung round and ran like a deer towards the lake, shaking her +head back as an animal does when fleeing from his pursuers. She would +scarcely have been recognised as the same placid, speechless woman in a +blanket who sat with folded hands day after day on the Aphrodite. + +The watchers turned and looked at each other in wonder. Truly, their +task of civilising a savage would not lack in interest. The old general +was better pleased, however, at this display of activity and excitement +than at yesterday's taciturnity. He loved spirit, even if it had to be +subdued, and he thought on the instant that he might possibly come +to look upon the fair savage as an actual and not a nominal +daughter-in-law. He had a keen appreciation of courage, and he thought +he saw in her face, as she turned upon them, a look of defiance or +daring, and nothing could have got at his nature quicker. If the case +had not been so near to his own hearthstone he would have chuckled. As +it was, he said good-humouredly that Mackenzie and Marion should go and +bring her back. But Mackenzie was already at that duty. Mrs. Armour had +had the presence of mind to send for Colvin; but presently, when +the general spoke, she thought it better that Marion should go, and +counselled returning to breakfast and not making the matter of too +much importance. This they did, Richard very reluctantly; while Marion, +rather pleased than not at the spirit shown by the strange girl, ran +away over the grass towards the lake, where Lali had now stopped. There +was a little bridge at one point where the lake narrowed, and Lali, +evidently seeing it all at once, went towards it, and ran up on it, +standing poised above the water about the middle of it. For an instant +an unpleasant possibility came into Marion's mind: suppose the excited +girl intended suicide! She shivered as she thought of it, and yet--! +She put that horribly cruel and selfish thought away from her with an +indignant word at herself. She had passed Mackenzie, and came first to +the lake. Here she slackened, and waved her hand playfully to the girl, +so as not to frighten her; and then with a forced laugh came up panting +on the bridge, and was presently by Lali's side. Lali eyed her a little +furtively, but, seeing that Marion was much inclined to be pleasant, she +nodded to her, said some Indian words hastily, and spread out her hands +towards the water. As she did so, Marion noticed again the beauty of +those hands and the graceful character of the gesture, so much so that +she forgot the flat hair and the unstayed body, and the rather broad +feet, and the delicate duskiness, which had so worked upon her in +imagination and in fact the evening before. She put her hand kindly on +that long slim hand stretched out beside her, and, because she knew +not what else to speak, and because the tongue is very perverse at +times,--saying the opposite of what is expected,--she herself blundered +out, "How! How! Lali." + +Perhaps Lali was as much surprised at the remark as Marion herself, and +certainly very much more delighted. The sound of those familiar +words, spoken by accident as they were, opened the way to a better +understanding, as nothing else could possibly have done. Marion was +annoyed with herself, and yet amused too. If her mind had been perfectly +assured regarding Captain Vidall, it is probable that then and there +a peculiar, a genial, comradeship would have been formed. As it was, +Marion found this little event more endurable than she expected. She +also found that Lali, when she laughed in pleasant acknowledgment of +that How! had remarkably white and regular teeth. Indeed, Marion Armour +began to discover some estimable points in the appearance of her savage +sister-in-law. Marion remarked to herself that Lali might be a rather +striking person, if she were dressed, as her mother said, in Christian +garments, could speak the English language well--and was somebody else's +sister-in-law. + +At this point Mackenzie came breathlessly to the bridge, and called +out a little sharply to Lali, rebuking her. In this Mackenzie made +a mistake; for not only did Lali draw herself up with considerable +dignity, but Marion, noticing the masterful nature of the tone, +instantly said: "Mackenzie, you must remember that you are speaking to +Mrs. Francis Armour, and that her position in General Armour's house +is the same as mine. I hope it is not necessary to say anything more, +Mackenzie." + +Mackenzie flushed. She was a sensible woman, she knew that she had +done wrong, and she said very promptly: "I am very sorry, miss. I was +flustered, and I expect I haven't got used to speaking to--to Mrs. +Armour as I'll be sure to do in the future." + +As she spoke, two or three deer came trotting out of the beeches down +to the lake side. If Lali was pleased and excited before, she was +overwhelmed now. Her breath came in quick little gasps; she laughed; +she tossed her hands; she seemed to become dizzy with delight; and +presently, as if this new link with, and reminder of, her past, had +moved her as one little expects a savage heart to be moved, two tears +gathered in her eyes, then slid down her cheek unheeded, and dried +there in the sunlight, as she still gazed at the deer. Marion, at first +surprised, was now touched, as she could not have thought it possible +concerning this wild creature, and her hand went out and caught Lali's +gently. At this genuine act of sympathy, instinctively felt by Lali, +the stranger in a strange land, husbanded and yet a widow, there came a +flood of tears, and, dropping on her knees, she leaned against the low +railing of the bridge and wept silently. So passionless was her grief +it seemed the more pathetic, and Marion dropped on her knees beside her, +put her arm round her shoulder, and said: "Poor girl! Poor girl!" + +At that Lali caught her hand, and held it, repeating after her the +words: "Poor girl! Poor girl!" + +She did not quite understand them, but she remembered that once just +before she parted from her husband at the Great Lakes he had said those +very words. If the fates had apparently given things into Frank Armour's +hands when he sacrificed this girl to his revenge, they were evidently +inclined to play a game which would eventually defeat his purpose, +wicked as it had been in effect if not in absolute motive. What the end +of this attempt to engraft the Indian girl upon the strictest convention +of English social life would have been had her introduction not been at +Greyhope, where faint likenesses to her past surrounded her, it is hard +to conjecture. But, from present appearances, it would seem that Richard +Armour was not wholly a false prophet; for the savage had shown herself +that morning to possess, in their crudeness, some striking qualities of +character. Given character, many things are possible, even to those who +are not of the elect. + +This was the beginning of better things. Lali seemed to the Armours not +quite so impossible now. Had she been of the very common order of Indian +"pure and simple," the task had resolved itself into making a common +savage into a very common European. But, whatever Lali was, it was +abundantly evident that she must be reckoned with at all points, and +that she was more likely to become a very startling figure in the Armour +household than a mere encumbrance to be blushed for, whose eternal +absence were preferable to her company. + +Years after that first morning Marion caught herself shuddering at +the thought that came to her when she saw Lali hovering on the bridge. +Whatever Marion's faults were, she had a fine dislike of anything that +seemed unfair. She had not ridden to hounds for nothing. She had at +heart the sportsman's instinct. It was upon this basis, indeed, that +Richard appealed to her in the first trying days of Lali's life among +them. To oppose your will to Marion on the basis of superior knowledge +was only to turn her into a rebel; and a very effective rebel she made; +for she had a pretty gift at the retort courteous, and she could take +as much, and as well, as she gave. She rebelled at first at assisting in +Lali's education, though by fits and starts she would teach her English +words, and help her to form long sentences, and was, on the whole, quite +patient. But Lali's real instructors were Mrs. Armour and Richard--, her +best, Richard. + +The first few days she made but little progress, for everything was +strange to her, and things made her giddy--the servants, the formal +routine, the handsome furnishings, Marion's music, the great house, the +many precise personal duties set for her, to be got through at stated +times; and Mrs. Armour's rather grand manner. But there was the relief +to this, else the girl had pined terribly for her native woods and +prairies; this was the park, the deer, the lake, the hares, and birds. +While she sat saying over after Mrs. Armour words and phrases in +English, or was being shown how she must put on and wear the clothes +which a dressmaker from Regent Street had been brought to make, her eyes +would wander dreamily to the trees and the lake and the grass. They soon +discovered that she would pay no attention and was straightway difficult +to teach if she was not placed where she could look out on the park. +They had no choice, for though her resistance was never active it was +nevertheless effective. + +Presently she got on very swiftly with Richard. For he, with instinct +worthy of a woman, turned their lessons upon her own country and Frank. +This cost him something, but it had its reward. There was no more +listlessness. Previously Frank's name had scarcely been spoken to her. +Mrs. Armour would have hours of hesitation and impotent regret before +she brought herself to speak of her son to his Indian wife. Marion tried +to do it a few times and failed; the general did it with rather a forced +voice and manner, because he saw that his wife was very tender upon the +point. But Richard, who never knew self-consciousness, spoke freely of +Frank when he spoke at all; and it was seeing Lali's eyes brighten and +her look earnestly fixed on him when he chanced to mention Frank's +name, that determined him on his new method of instruction. It had its +dangers, but he had calculated them all. The girl must be educated at +all costs. The sooner that occurred the sooner would she see her own +position and try to adapt herself to her responsibilities, and face the +real state of her husband's attitude towards her. + +He succeeded admirably. Striving to tell him about her past life, and +ready to talk endlessly about her husband, of his prowess in the hunt, +of his strength and beauty, she also strove to find English words for +the purpose, and Richard supplied them with uncommon willingness. He +humoured her so far as to learn many Indian words and phrases, but he +was chary of his use of them, and tried hard to make her appreciative +of her new life and surroundings. He watched her waking slowly to an +understanding of the life, and of all that it involved. It gave him a +kind of fear, too, because she was sensitive, and there was the possible +danger of her growing disheartened or desperate, and doing some mad +thing in the hour that she wakened to the secret behind her marriage. + +His apprehensions were not without cause. For slowly there came into +Lali's mind the element of comparison. She became conscious of it one +day when some neighbouring people called at Greyhope. Mrs. Armour, in +her sense of duty, which she had rigidly set before her, introduced Lali +into the drawing-room. The visitors veiled their curiosity and said some +pleasant casual things to the young wife, but she saw the half-curious, +half-furtive glances, she caught a sidelong glance and smile, and when +they were gone she took to looking at herself in a mirror, a thing she +could scarcely be persuaded to do before. She saw the difference between +her carriage and theirs, her manner of wearing her clothes and theirs, +her complexion and theirs. She exaggerated the difference. She brooded +on it. Now she sat downcast and timid, and hunted in face, as on the +first evening she came; now she appeared restless and excited. + +If Mrs. Armour was not exactly sympathetic with her, she was quiet and +forbearing, and General Armour, like Richard, tried to draw her out--but +not on the same subjects. He dwelt upon what she did; the walks she +took in the park, those hours in the afternoon when, with Mackenzie or +Colvin, she vanished into the beeches, making friends with the birds and +deer and swans. But most of all she loved to go to the stables. She was, +however, asked not to go unless Richard or General Armour was with her. +She loved horses, and these were a wonder to her. She had never known +any but the wild, ungroomed Indian pony, on which she had ridden in +every fashion and over every kind of country. Mrs. Armour sent for a +riding-master, and had riding-costumes made for her. It was intended +that she should ride every day as soon as she seemed sufficiently +presentable. This did not appear so very far off, for she improved daily +in appearance. Her hair was growing finer, and was made up in the modest +prevailing fashion; her skin, no longer exposed to an inclement climate, +and subject to the utmost care, was smoother and fairer; her feet, +encased in fine, well-made boots, looked much smaller; her waist was +shaped to fashion, and she was very straight and lissom. So many things +she did jarred on her relatives, that they were not fully aware of the +great improvement in her appearance. Even Richard admitted her trying at +times. + +Marion went up to town to stay with Mrs. Townley, and there had to face +a good deal of curiosity. People looked at her sometimes as if it was +she and not Lali that was an Indian. But she carried things off bravely +enough, and answered those kind inquiries, which one's friends make when +we are in embarrassing situations, with answers so calm and pleasant +that people did not know what to think. + +"Yes," she said, in reply to Lady Balwood, "her sister-in-law might be +in town later in the year, perhaps before the season was over: she could +not tell. She was tired after her long voyage, and she preferred the +quiet of Greyhope; she was fond of riding and country-life; but still +she would come to town for a time." And so on. + +"Ah, dear me, how charming! And doesn't she resent her husband's +absence--during the honeymoon? or did the honeymoon occur before she +came over to England?" And Lady Balwood tried to say it all playfully, +and certainly said it something loudly. She had daughters. + +But Marion was perfectly prepared. Her face did not change expression. +"Yes, they had had their honeymoon on the prairies; Frank was so +fascinated with the life and the people. He had not come home at once, +because he was making she did not know how great a fortune over there in +investments, and so Mrs. Armour came on before him, and, of course, as +soon as he could get away from his business, he would follow his wife." + +And though Marion smiled, her heart was very hot, and she could have +slain Lady Balwood in her tracks. Lady Balwood then nodded a little +patronisingly, and babbled that "she hoped so much to see Mrs. Francis +Armour. She must be so very interesting, the papers said so much about +her." + +Now, while this conversation was going on, some one stood not far behind +Marion, who seemed much interested in her and what she said. But Marion +did not see this person. She was startled presently, however, to hear a +strong voice say softly over her shoulder: "What a charming woman Lady +Balwood is! And so ingenuous!" + +She was grateful, tremulous, proud. Why had he--Captain Vidall--kept out +of the way all these weeks, just when she needed him most, just when he +should have played the part of a man? Then she was feeling twinges at +the heart, too. She had seen Lady Agnes Martling that afternoon, and had +noticed how the news had worn on her. She felt how much better it had +been had Frank come quietly home and married her, instead of doing the +wild, scandalous thing that was making so many heart-burnings. A few +minutes ago she had longed for a chance to say something delicately acid +to Lady Haldwell, once Julia Sherwood, who was there. Now there was a +chance to give her bitter spirit tongue. She was glad--she dared not +think how glad--to hear that voice again; but she was angry too, and he +should suffer for it--the more so because she recognised in the tone, +and afterwards in his face, that he was still absorbingly interested in +her. There was a little burst of thanksgiving in her heart, and then she +prepared a very notable commination service in her mind. + +This meeting had been deftly arranged by Mrs. Townley, with the help +of Edward Lambert, who now held her fingers with a kind of vanity of +possession whenever he bade her good-bye or met her. Captain Vidall had, +in fact, been out of the country, had only been back a week, and had +only heard of Frank Armour's mesalliance from Lambert at an At Home +forty-eight hours before. Mrs. Townley guessed what was really at the +bottom of Marion's occasional bitterness, and, piecing together many +little things dropped casually by her friend, had come to the conclusion +that the happiness of two people was at stake. + +When Marion shook hands with Captain Vidall she had herself exceedingly +well under control. She looked at him in slight surprise, and casually +remarked that they had not chanced to meet lately in the run of +small-and-earlies. She appeared to be unconscious that he had been out +of the country, and also that she had been till very recently indeed at +Greyhope. He hastened to assure her that he had been away, and to lay +siege to this unexpected barrier. He knew all about Frank's affair, and, +though it troubled him, he did not see why it should make any difference +in his regard for Frank's sister. Fastidious as he was in all things, he +was fastidiously deferential. Not an exquisite, he had all that vanity +as to appearance so usual with the military man; himself of the +most perfect temper and sweetness of manner and conduct, the unusual +disturbed him. Not possessed of a vivid imagination, he could scarcely +conjure up this Indian bride at Greyhope. + +But face to face with Marion Armour he saw what troubled his mind, +and he determined he would not meet her irony with irony, her assumed +indifference with indifference. He had learned one of the most important +lessons of life--never to quarrel with a woman. Whoever has so far erred +has been foolish indeed. It is the worst of policy, to say nothing of +its being the worst of art; and life should never be without art. It +is absurd to be perfectly natural; anything, anybody can be that. +Well, Captain Hume Vidall was something of an artist, more, however, +in principle than by temperament. He refused to recognise the rather +malicious adroitness with which Marion turned his remarks again upon +himself, twisted out of all semblance. He was very patient. He inquired +quietly, and as if honestly interested, about Frank, and said--because +he thought it safest as well as most reasonable--that, naturally, they +must have been surprised at his marrying a native; but he himself had +seen some such marriages turn out very well--in Japan, India, the South +Sea Islands, and Canada. He assumed that Marion's sister-in-law was +beautiful, and then disarmed Marion by saying that he thought of going +down to Greyhope immediately, to call on General Armour and Mrs. Armour, +and wondered if she was going back before the end of the season. + +Quick as Marion was, this was said so quietly that she did not quite see +the drift of it. She had intended staying in London to the end of the +season, not because she enjoyed it, but because she was determined to +face Frank's marriage at every quarter, and have it over, once for all, +so far as herself was concerned. But now, taken slightly aback, she +said, almost without thinking, that she would probably go back soon--she +was not quite sure; but certainly her father and mother would be glad to +see Captain Vidall at any time. + +Then, without any apparent relevancy, he asked her if Mrs. Frank Armour +still wore her Indian costume. In any one else the question had seemed +impertinent; in him it had a touch of confidence, of the privilege of +close friendship. Then he said, with a meditative look and a very calm, +retrospective voice, that he was once very much in love with a native +girl in India, and might have become permanently devoted to her, were it +not for the accident of his being ordered back to England summarily. + +This was a piece of news which cut two ways. In the first place it +lessened the extraordinary character of Frank's marriage, and it roused +in her an immediate curiosity--which a woman always feels in the past +"affairs" of her lover, or possible lover. Vidall did not take pains to +impress her with the fact that the matter occurred when he was almost a +boy; and it was when her earnest inquisition had drawn from him, bit by +bit, the circumstances of the case, and she had forgotten many parts of +her commination service and to preserve an effective neutrality in tone, +that she became aware he was speaking ancient history. Then it was too +late to draw back. + +They had threaded their way through the crowd into the conservatory, +where they were quite alone, and there, with only a little pyramid of +hydrangeas between them, which she could not help but notice chimed well +with the colour of her dress, he dropped his voice a little lower, and +then suddenly said, his eyes hard on her: "I want your permission to go +to Greyhope." + +The tone drew her eyes hastily to his, and, seeing, she dropped them +again. Vidall had a strong will, and, what is of more consequence, a +peculiarly attractive voice. It had a vibration which made some of his +words organ-like in sound. She felt the influence of it. She said a +little faintly, her fingers toying with a hydrangea: "I am afraid I do +not understand. There is no reason why you should not go to Greyhope +without my permission." + +"I cannot go without it," he persisted. "I am waiting for my commission +from you." + +She dropped her hand from the flower with a little impatient motion. +She was tired, her head ached, she wanted to be alone. "Why are you +enigmatical?" she said. Then quickly: "I wish I knew what is in your +mind. You play with words so." + +She scarcely knew what she said. A woman who loves a man very much is +not quick to take in the absolute declaration of that man's love on the +instant; it is too wonderful for her. He felt his check flush with hers, +he drew her look again to his. "Marion! Marion!" he said. That was all. + +"Oh, hush, some one is coming!" was her quick, throbbing reply. When +they parted a half-hour later, he said to her: "Will you give me my +commission to go to Greyhope?" + +"Oh no, I cannot," she said very gravely; "but come to Greyhope-when I +go back." + +"And when will that be?" he said, smiling, yet a little ruefully too. + +"Please ask Mrs. Townley," she replied; "she is coming also." + +Marion, knew what that commission to go to Greyhope meant. But she +determined that he should see Lali first, before anything irrevocable +was done. She still looked upon Frank's marriage as a scandal. Well, +Captain Vidall should face it in all its crudeness. So, in a week or +less, Marion and Mrs. Townley were in Greyhope. + +Two months had gone since Lali arrived in England, and yet no letter had +come to her, or to any of them, from Frank. Frank's solicitor in London +had written him fully of her arrival, and he had had a reply, with +further instructions regarding money to be placed to General Armour's +credit for the benefit of his wife. Lali, as she became Europeanised, +also awoke to the forms and ceremonies of her new life. She had +overheard Frank's father and mother wondering, and fretting as they +wondered, why they had not received any word from him. General Armour +had even called him a scoundrel, which sent Frank's mother into tears. +Then Lali had questioned Mackenzie and Colvin, for she had increasing +shrewdness, and she began to feel her actual position. She resented +General Armour's imputation, but in her heart she began to pine and +wonder. At times, too, she was fitful, and was not to be drawn out. But +she went on improving in personal appearance and manner and in learning +the English language. Mrs. Townley's appearance marked a change in her. +When they met she suddenly stood still and trembled. When Mrs. Townley +came to her and took her hand and kissed her, she shivered, and then +caught her about the shoulders lightly, but was silent. After a little +she said: "Come--come to my wigwam, and talk with me." + +She said it with a strange little smile, for now she recognised that +the word wigwam was not to be used in her new life. But Mrs. Townley +whispered: "Ask Marion to come too." + +Lali hesitated, and then said, a little maliciously: "Marion, will you +come to my wigwam?" + +Marion ran to her, caught her about the waist, and replied gaily: "Yes, +we will have a pow-wow--is that right--is pow-wow right?" + +The Indian girl shook her head with a pretty vagueness, and vanished +with them. General Armour walked up and down the room briskly, then +turned on his wife and said: "Wife, it was a brutal thing: Frank doesn't +deserve to be--the father of her child." + +But Lali had moods--singular moods. She indulged in one three days after +the arrival of Marion and Mrs. Townley. She had learned to ride with the +side-saddle, and wore her riding-dress admirably. Nowhere did she show +to better advantage. She had taken to riding now with General Armour on +the country roads. On this day Captain Vidall was expected, he having +written to ask that he might come. What trouble Lali had with one of the +servants that morning was never thoroughly explained, but certain it +is, she came to have a crude notion of why Frank Armour married her. The +servant was dismissed duly, but that was after the contre-temps. + +It was late afternoon. Everybody had been busy, because one or two other +guests were expected besides Captain Vidall. Lali had kept to herself, +sending word through Richard that she would not "be English," as she +vaguely put it, that day. She had sent Mackenzie on some mission. She +sat on the floor of her room, as she used to sit on the ground in her +father's lodge. Her head was bowed in her hands, and her arms rested on +her knees. Her body swayed to and fro. Presently all motion ceased. She +became perfectly still. She looked before her as if studying something. + +Her eyes immediately flashed. She rose quickly to her feet, went to her +wardrobe, and took out her Indian costume and blanket, with which she +could never be induced to part. Almost feverishly she took off the +clothes she wore and hastily threw them from her. Then she put on the +buckskin clothes in which she had journeyed to England, drew down her +hair as she used to wear it, fastened round her waist a long red sash +which had been given her by a governor of the Hudson's Bay Company +when he had visited her father's country, threw her blanket round her +shoulders, and then eyed herself in the great mirror in the room. What +she saw evidently did not please her perfectly, for she stretched out +her hands and looked at them; she shook her head at herself and put her +hand to her cheeks and pinched them, they were not so brown as they once +were, then she thrust out her foot. She drew it back quickly in disdain. +Immediately she caught the fashionable slippers from her feet and threw +them among the discarded garments. She looked at herself again. Still +she was not satisfied, but she threw up her arms, as with a sense +of pleasure and freedom, and laughed at herself. She pushed out her +moccasined foot, tapped the floor with it, nodded towards it, and said +a word or two in her own language. She heard some one in the next room, +possibly Mackenzie. She stepped to the door leading into the hall, +opened it, went out, travelled its length, ran down a back hallway, out +into the park, towards the stables, her blanket, as her hair, flying +behind her. + +She entered the stables, made for a horse that she had ridden much, put +a bridle on him, led him out before any one had seen her, and, catching +him by the mane, suddenly threw herself on him at a bound, and, giving +him a tap with a short whip she had caught up in the stable, headed him +for the main avenue and the open road. Then a stableman saw her and ran +after, but he might as well have tried to follow the wind. He forthwith +proceeded to saddle another horse. Boulter also saw her as she passed +the house, and, running in, told Mrs. Armour and the general. They both +ran to the window and saw dashing down the avenue--a picture out of +Fenimore Cooper; a saddleless horse with a rider whose fingers merely +touched the bridle, riding as on a journey of life and death. + +"My God, it's Lali! She's mad--she's mad! She is striking that horse! It +will bolt! It will kill her!" cried the general. + +Then he rushed for a horse to follow her. Mrs. Armour's hands clasped +painfully. For an instant she had almost the same thought as had Marion +on the first morning of Lali's coming; but that passed, and left +her gazing helplessly after the horse-woman. The flying blanket had +frightened the blooded horse, and he made desperate efforts to fulfil +the general's predictions. + +Lali soon found that she had miscalculated. She was not riding an +Indian pony, but a crazed, high-strung horse. As they flew, she sitting +superbly and tugging at the bridle, the party coming from the railway +station entered the great gate, accompanied by Richard and Marion. In +a moment they sighted this wild pair bearing down upon them with a +terrible swiftness. + +As Marion recognised Lali she turned pale and cried out, rising in her +seat. Instinctively Captain Vidall knew who it was, though he could not +guess the cause of the singular circumstance. He saw that the horse +had bolted, but also that the rider seemed entirely fearless. "Why, +in Heaven's name," he said between his teeth, "doesn't she let go that +blanket!" + +At that moment Lali did let it go, and the horse dashed by them, making +hard for the gate. "Turn the horses round and follow her," said Vidall +to the driver. While this was doing, Marion caught sight of her father +riding hard down the avenue. He passed them, and called to them to hurry +on after him. + +Lali had not the slightest sense of fear, but she knew that the horse +had gone mad. When they passed through the gate and swerved into the +road, a less practised rider would have been thrown. She sat like wax. +The pace was incredible for a mile, and though General Armour rode well, +he was far behind. + +Suddenly a trap appeared in the road in front of them, and the driver, +seeing the runaway, set his horses at right angles to the road. It +served the purpose only to provide another danger. Not far from where +the trap was drawn, and between it and the runaway, was a lane, which +ended at a farmyard in a cul-de-sac. The horse swerved into it, not +slacking its pace, and in the fraction of a minute came to the farmyard. + +But now the fever was in Lali's blood. She did not care whether she +lived or died. A high hedge formed the cul-de-sac. When she saw the +horse slacking she cut it savagely across the head twice with a whip, +and drove him at the green wall. He was of too good make to refuse it, +stiff as it was. He rose to it magnificently, and cleared it; but +almost as he struck the ground squarely, he staggered and fell--the girl +beneath him. He had burst a blood-vessel. The ground was soft and wet; +the weight of the horse prevented her from getting free. She felt its +hoof striking in its death-struggles, and once her shoulder was struck. +Instinctively she buried her face in the mud, and her arms covered her +head. + +And then she knew no more. + +When she came to, she was in the carriage within the gates of Greyhope, +and Marion was bending over her. She suddenly tried to lift herself, but +could not. Presently she saw another face--that of General Armour. It +was stern, and yet his eyes were swimming as he looked at her. + +"How!" she said to him--"How!" and fainted again. + + + + +CHAPTER VI. THE PASSING OF THE YEARS + +Lali's recovery was not rapid. A change had come upon her. With that +strange ride had gone the last strong flicker of the desire for savage +life in her. She knew now the position she held towards her husband: +that he had never loved her; that she was only an instrument for +unworthy retaliation. So soon as she could speak after her accident, she +told them that they must not write to him and tell him of it. She also +made them promise that they would give him no news of her at all, save +that she was well. They could not refuse to promise; they felt she had +the right to demand much more than that. They had begun to care for her +for herself, and when the months went by, and one day there was a hush +about her room, and anxiety, and then relief, in the faces of all, they +came to care for her still more for the sake of her child. + +As the weeks passed, the fair-haired child grew more and more like +his father; but if Lali thought of her husband they never knew it by +anything she said, for she would not speak of him. She also made them +promise that they would not write to him of the child's birth. Richard, +with his sense of justice, and knowing how much the woman had been +wronged, said that in all this she had done quite right; that Frank, if +he had done his duty after marrying her, should have come with her. And +because they all felt that Richard had been her best friend as well as +their own, they called the child after him. This also was Lali's wish. +Coincident with her motherhood there came to Lali a new purpose. She had +not lived with the Armours without absorbing some of their fine social +sense and dignity. This, added to the native instinct of pride in her, +gave her a new ambition. As hour by hour her child grew dear to her, +so hour by hour her husband grew away from her. She schooled herself +against him.--At times she thought she hated him. She felt she could +never forgive him, but she would prove to him that it was she who had +made the mistake of her life in marrying him; that she had been wronged, +not he; and that his sin would face him with reproach and punishment one +day. Richard's prophecy was likely to come true: she would defeat very +perfectly indeed Frank's intentions. After the child was born, so soon +as she was able, she renewed her studies with Richard and Mrs. Armour. +She read every morning for hours; she rode; she practised all those +graceful arts of the toilet which belong to the social convention; she +showed an unexpected faculty for singing, and practised it faithfully; +and she begged Mrs. Armour and Marion to correct her at every point +where correction seemed necessary. When the child was two years old, +they all went to London, something against Lali's personal feelings, but +quite in accord with what she felt her duty. + +Richard was left behind at Greyhope. For the first time in eighteen +months he was alone with his old quiet duties and recreations. During +that time he had not neglected his pensioners,--his poor, sick, halt, +and blind, but a deeper, larger interest had come into his life in the +person of Lali. During all that time she had seldom been out of his +sight, never out of his influence and tutelage. His days had been full, +his every hour had been given a keen, responsible interest. As if +by tacit consent, every incident or development of Lali's life was +influenced by his judgment and decision. He had been more to her than +General Armour, Mrs. Armour, or Marion. Schooled as he was in all the +ways of the world, he had at the same time a mind as sensitive as a +woman's, an indescribable gentleness, a persuasive temperament. Since, +years before, he had withdrawn from the social world and become +a recluse, many of his finer qualities had gone into an indulgent +seclusion. He had once loved the world and the gay life of London, but +some untoward event, coupled with a radical love of retirement, had sent +him into years of isolation at Greyhope. + +His tutelar relations with Lali had reopened many an old spring +of sensation and experience. Her shy dependency, her innocent +inquisitiveness, had searched out his remotest sympathies. In teaching +her he had himself been re-taught. Before she came he had been satisfied +with the quiet usefulness and studious ease of his life. But in her +presence something of his old youthfulness came back, some reflection of +the ardent hopes of his young manhood. He did not notice the change +in himself. He only knew that his life was very full. He read later at +nights, he rose earlier in the morning. But unconsciously to himself, +he was undergoing a change. The more a man's sympathies and emotions +are active, the less is he the philosopher. It is only when one has +withdrawn from the more personal influence of the emotions that one's +philosophy may be trusted. One may be interested in mankind and still +be philosophical--may be, as it were, the priest and confessor to all +comers. But let one be touched in some vital corner in one's nature, +and the high, faultless impartiality is gone. In proportion as Richard's +interest in Lali had grown, the universal quality of his sympathy had +declined. Man is only man. Not that his benefactions as lord-bountiful +in the parish had grown perfunctory, but the calm detail of his interest +was not so definite. He was the same, yet not the same. + +He was not aware of any difference in himself. He did not know that +he looked younger by ten years. Such is the effect of mere personal +sympathy upon a man's look and bearing. When, therefore, one bright May +morning, the family at Greyhope, himself excluded, was ready to start +for London, he had no thought but that he would drop back into his old +silent life, as it was before Lali came, and his brother's child was +born. He was not conscious that he was very restless that morning; he +scarcely was aware that he had got up two hours earlier than usual. At +the breakfast-table he was cheerful and alert. After breakfast he amused +himself in playing with the child till the carriage was brought round. +It was such a morning as does not come a dozen times a year in England. +The sweet, moist air blew from the meadows and up through the lime trees +with a warm, insinuating gladness. The lawn sloped delightfully away to +the flowered embrasures of the park, and a fragrant abundance of flowers +met the eye and cheered the senses. While Richard loitered on the steps +with the child and its nurse, more excited than he knew, Lali came +out and stood beside him. At the moment Richard was looking into the +distance. He did not hear her when she came. She stood near him for a +moment, and did not speak. Her eyes followed the direction of his look, +and idled tenderly with the prospect before her. She did not even notice +the child. The same thought was in the mind of both--with a difference. +Richard was wondering how any one could choose to change the sweet +dignity of that rural life for the flaring, hurried delights of London +and the season. He had thought this a thousand times, and yet, though he +would have been little willing to acknowledge it, his conviction was not +so impregnable as it had been. + +Mrs. Francis Armour was stepping from the known to the unknown. She was +leaving the precincts of a life in which, socially, she had been born +again. Its sweetness and benign quietness had all worked upon her nature +and origin to change her. In that it was an out-door life, full of +freshness and open-air vigour, it was not antagonistic to her past. Upon +this sympathetic basis had been imposed the conditions of a fine social +decorum. The conditions must still exist. But how would it be when she +was withdrawn from this peaceful activity of nature and set down among +"those garish lights" in Cavendish Square and Piccadilly? She hardly +knew to what she was going as yet. There had been a few social functions +at Greyhope since she had come, but that could give her, after all, but +little idea of the swing and pressure of London life. + +At this moment she was lingering over the scene before her. She was +wondering with the naive wonder of an awakened mind. She had intended +many times of late saying to Richard all the native gratitude she felt; +yet somehow she had never been able to say it. The moment of parting had +come. + +"What are you thinking of, Richard?" she said now. He started and turned +towards her. + +"I hardly know," he answered. "My thoughts were drifting." + +"Richard," she said abruptly, "I want to thank you." + +"Thank me for what, Lali?" he questioned. + +"To thank you, Richard, for everything--since I came, over three years +ago." + +He broke out into a soft little laugh, then, with his old good-natured +manner, caught her hand as he did the first night she came to Greyhope, +patted it in a fatherly fashion, and said: + +"It is the wrong way about, Lali; I ought to be thanking you, not you +me. Why, look what a stupid old fogy I was then, toddling about the +place with too much time on my hands, reading a lot and forgetting +everything; and here you came in, gave me something to do, made the +little I know of any use, and ran a pretty gold wire down the rusty +fiddle of life. If there are any speeches of gratitude to be made, they +are mine, they are mine." + +"Richard," she said very quietly and gravely, "I owe you more than I can +ever say--in English. You have taught me to speak in your tongue enough +for all the usual things of life, but one can only speak from the depths +of one's heart in one's native tongue. And see," she added, with a +painful little smile, "how strange it would sound if I were to tell you +all I thought in the language of my people--of my people, whom I shall +never see again. Richard, can you understand what it must be to have +a father whom one is never likely to see again--whom, if one did see +again, something painful would happen? We grow away from people against +our will; we feel the same towards them, but they cannot feel the same +towards us; for their world is in another hemisphere. We want to love +them, and we love, remember, and are glad to meet them again, but +they feel that we are unfamiliar, and, because we have grown different +outwardly, they seem to miss some chord that used to ring. Richard, +I--I--" She paused. + +"Yes, Lali," he assented--"yes, I understand you so far; but speak out." + +"I am not happy," she said. "I never shall be happy. I have my child, +and that is all I have. I cannot go back to the life in which I was +born; I must go on as I am, a stranger among a strange people, pitied, +suffered, cared for a little--and that is all." + +The nurse had drawn away a little distance with the child. The rest of +the family were making their preparations inside the house. There was no +one near to watch the singular little drama. + +"You should not say that," he added; "we all feel you to be one of us." + +"But all your world does not feel me to be one of them," she rejoined. + +"We shall see about that when you go up to town. You are a bit morbid, +Lali. I don't wonder at your feeling a little shy; but then you will +simply carry things before you--now you take my word for it! For I know +London pretty well." + +She held out her ungloved hands. + +"Do they compare with the white hands of the ladies you know?" she said. + +"They are about the finest hands I have ever seen," he replied. "You +can't see yourself, sister of mine." + +"I do not care very much to see myself," she said. "If I had not a maid +I expect I should look very shiftless, for I don't care to look in a +mirror. My only mirror used to be a stream of water in summer," she +added, "and a corner of a looking-glass got from the Hudson's Bay fort +in the winter." + +"Well, you are missing a lot of enjoyment," he said, "if you do not +use your mirror much. The rest of us can appreciate what you would see +there." + +She reached out and touched his arm. + +"Do you like to look at me?" she questioned, with a strange simple +candour. + +For the first time in many a year, Richard Armour blushed like a girl +fresh from school. The question had come so suddenly, it had gone so +quickly into a sensitive corner of his nature, that he lost command of +himself for the instant, yet had little idea why the command was lost. +He touched the fingers on his arm affectionately. + +"Like to look at you--like to look at you? Why, of course we all like to +look at you. You are very fine and handsome and interesting." + +"Richard," she said, drawing her hands away, "is that why you like to +look at me?" + +He had recovered himself. He laughed in his old hearty way, and said: + +"Yes, yes; why, of course! Come, let us go and see the boy," he added, +taking her arm and hurrying her down the steps. "Come and let us see +Richard Joseph, the pride of all the Armours." + +She moved beside him in a kind of dream. She had learned much since she +came to Greyhope, and yet she could not at that moment have told exactly +why she asked Richard the question that had confused him, nor did she +know quite what lay behind the question. But every problem which has +life works itself out to its appointed end, if fumbling human fingers +do not meddle with it. Half the miseries of this world are caused by +forcing issues, in every problem of the affections, the emotions, +and the soul. There is a law working with which there should be +no tampering, lest in foolish interruption come only confusion and +disaster. Against every such question there should be written the one +word, "Wait." + +Richard Armour stooped over the child. "A beauty," he said, "a perfect +little gentleman. Like Richard Joseph Armour there is none," he added. + +"Whom do you think he looks like, Richard?" she asked. This was a +question she had never asked before since the child was born. Whom the +child looked like every one knew; but within the past year and a half +Francis Armour's name had seldom been mentioned, and never in connection +with the child. The child's mother asked the question with a strange +quietness. Richard answered it without hesitation. + +"The child looks like Frank," he said. "As like him as can be." + +"I am glad," she said, "for all your sakes." + +"You are very deep this morning, Lali," Richard said, with a kind of +helplessness. "Frank will be pretty proud of the youngster when he comes +back. But he won't be prouder of him than I am." + +"I know that," she said. "Won't you be lonely without the boy--and me, +Richard?" + +Again the question went home. "Lonely? I should think I would," he said. +"I should think I would. But then, you see, school is over, and the +master stays behind and makes up the marks. You will find London a +jollier master than I am, Lali. There'll be lots of shows, and plenty to +do, and smart frocks, and no end of feeds and frolics; and that is more +amusing than studying three hours a day with a dry old stick like me. I +tell you what, when Frank comes--" + +She interrupted him. "Do not speak of that," she said. Then, with a +sudden burst of feeling, though her words were scarcely audible: "I owe +you everything, Richard--everything that is good. I owe him nothing, +Richard--nothing but what is bitter." + +"Hush, hush," he said; "you must not speak that way. Lali, I want to say +to you--" + +At that moment General Armour, Mrs. Armour, and Marion appeared on the +door-step, and the carriage came wheeling up the drive. What Richard +intended to say was left unsaid. The chances were it never would be +said. + +"Well, well," said General Armour, calling down at them, "escort his +imperial highness to the chariot which awaits him, and then ho! for +London town. Come along, my daughter," he said to Lali; "come up here +and take the last whiff of Greyhope that you will have for six months. +Dear, dear, what lunatics we all are, to be sure! Why, we're as happy +as little birds in their nests out in the decent country, and yet we +scamper off to a smoky old city by the Thames to rush along with the +world, instead of sitting high and far away from it and watching it go +by. God bless my soul, I'm old enough to know better! Well, let me help +you in, my dear," he added to his wife; "and in you go, Marion; and in +you go, your imperial highness"--he passed the child awkwardly in to +Marion; "and in you go, my daughter," he added, as he handed Lali in, +pressing her hand with a brusque fatherliness as he did so. He then got +in after them. + +Richard came to the side of the carriage and bade them all good-bye one +by one. Lali gave him her hand, but did not speak a word. He called a +cheerful adieu, the horses were whipped up, and in a moment Richard was +left alone on the steps of the house. He stood for a time looking, then +he turned to go into the house, but changed his mind, sat down, lit +a cigar, and did not move from his seat until he was summoned to his +lonely luncheon. + +Nobody thought much of leaving Richard behind at Greyhope. It seemed +the natural thing to do. But still he had not been left alone--entirely +alone--for three years or more. + +The days and weeks went on. If Richard had been accounted eccentric +before, there was far greater cause for the term now. Life dragged. +Too much had been taken out of his life all at once; for, in the first +place, the family had been drawn together more during the trouble which +Lali's advent had brought; then the child and its mother, his pupil, +were gone also. He wandered about in a kind of vague unrest. The hardest +thing in this world to get used to is the absence of a familiar footstep +and the cheerful greeting of a familiar eye. And the man with no chick +or child feels even the absence of his dog from the hearth-rug when +he returns from a journey or his day's work. It gives him a sense of +strangeness and loss. But when it is the voice of a woman and the hand +of a child that is missed, you can back no speculation upon that man's +mood or mind or conduct. There is no influence like the influence of +habit, and that is how, when the minds of people are at one, physical +distances and differences, no matter how great, are invisible, or at +least not obvious. + +Richard Armour was a sensible man; but when one morning he suddenly +packed a portmanteau and went up to town to Cavendish Square, the act +might be considered from two sides of the equation. If he came back +to enter again into the social life which, for so many years, he had +abjured, it was not very sensible, because the world never welcomes its +deserters; it might, if men and women grew younger instead of older. If +he came to see his family, or because he hungered for his godchild, or +because--but we are hurrying the situation. It were wiser not to state +the problem yet. The afternoon that he arrived at Cavendish Square +all his family were out except his brother's wife. Lali was in the +drawing-room, receiving a visitor who had asked for Mrs. Armour and Mrs. +Francis Armour. The visitor was received by Mrs. Francis Armour. The +visitor knew that Mrs. Armour was not at home. She had by chance seen +her and Marion in Bond Street, and was not seen by them. She straightway +got into her carriage and drove up to Cavendish Square, hoping to find +Mrs. Francis Armour at home. There had been house-parties at Greyhope +since Lali had come there to live, but this visitor, though once an +intimate friend of the family, had never been a guest. + +The visitor was Lady Haldwell, once Miss Julia Sherwood, who had made +possible what was called Francis Armour's tragedy. Since Lali had come +to town Lady Haldwell had seen her, but had never met her. She was not +at heart wicked, but there are few women who can resist an opportunity +of anatomising and reckoning up the merits and demerits of a woman who +has married an old lover. When that woman is in the position of +Lali, the situation has an unusual piquancy and interest. Hence Lady +Haldwell's journey of inquisition to Cavendish Square. + +As Richard passed the drawing-room door to ascend the stairs, he +recognised the voices. + +Once a sort of heathen, as Mrs. Francis Armour had been, she still could +grasp the situation with considerable clearness. There is nothing +keener than one woman's instinct regarding another woman, where a man +is concerned. Mrs. Francis Armour received Lady Haldwell with a quiet +stateliness, which, if it did not astonish her, gave her sufficient +warning that matters were not, in this little comedy, to be all her own +way. + +Thrown upon the mere resources of wit and language, Mrs. Francis Armour +must have been at a disadvantage. For Lady Haldwell had a good gift of +speech, a pretty talent for epithet, and no unnecessary tenderness. She +bore Lali no malice. She was too decorous and high for that. In her +mind the wife of the man she had discarded was a mere commonplace +catastrophe, to be viewed without horror, maybe with pity. She had heard +the alien spoken well of by some people; others had seemed indignant +that the Armours should try to push "a red woman" into English society. +Truth is, the Armours did not try at all to push her. For over three +years they had let society talk. They had not entertained largely in +Cavendish Square since Lali came, and those invited to Greyhope had +a chance to refuse the invitations if they chose. Most people did not +choose to decline them. But Lady Haldwell was not of that number. She +had never been invited. But now in town, when entertainment must be more +general, she and the Armours were prepared for social interchange. + +Behind Lady Haldwell's visit curiosity chiefly ran. She was in a way +sorry for Frank Armour, for she had been fond of him after a fashion, +always fonder of him than of Lord Haldwell. She had married with her +fingers holding the scales of advantage; and Lord Haldwell dressed well, +was immensely rich, and the title had a charm. + +When Mrs. Francis Armour met her with her strange, impressive dignity, +she was the slightest bit confused, but not outwardly. She had not +expected it. At first Lali did not know who her visitor was. She had not +caught the name distinctly from the servant. + +Presently Lady Haldwell said, as Lali gave her hand "I am Lady Haldwell. +As Miss Sherwood I was an old friend of your husband." + +A scornful glitter came into Mrs. Armour's eyes--a peculiar touch of +burnished gold, an effect of the light at a certain angle of the lens. +It gave for the instant an uncanny look to the face, almost something +malicious. She guessed why this woman had come. She knew the whole +history of the past, and it touched her in a tender spot. She knew she +was had at an advantage. Before her was a woman perfectly trained in the +fine social life to which she was born, whose equanimity was as regular +as her features. Herself was by nature a creature of impulse, of +the woods and streams and open life. The social convention had been +engrafted. As yet she was used to thinking and speaking with all +candour. She was to have her training in the charms of superficiality, +but that was to come; and when it came she would not be an unskilful +apprentice. Perhaps the latent subtlety of her race came to help her +natural candour at the moment. For she said at once, in a slow, quiet +tone: + +"I never heard my husband speak of you. Will you sit down?" + +"And Mrs. Armour and Marion are not in? No, I suppose your husband did +not speak much of his old friends." + +The attack was studied and cruel. But Lady Haldwell had been stung by +Mrs. Armour's remark, and it piqued her that this was possible. + +"Well, yes, he spoke of some of his friends, but not of you." + +"Indeed! That is strange." + +"There was no necessity," said Mrs. Armour quietly. + +"Of discussing me? I suppose not. But by some chance--" + +"It was just as well, perhaps, not to anticipate the pleasure of our +meeting." + +Lady Haldwell was surprised. She had not expected this cleverness. +They talked casually for a little time, the visitor trying in vain to +delicately give the conversation a personal turn. At last, a little +foolishly, she grew bolder, with a needless selfishness. + +"So old a friend of your husband as I am, I am hopeful you and I may be +friends also." + +Mrs. Armour saw the move. + +"You are very kind," she said conventionally, and offered a cup of tea. + +Lady Haldwell now ventured unwisely. She was nettled at the other's +self-possession. + +"But then, in a way, I have been your friend for a long time, Mrs. +Armour." + +The point was veiled in a vague tone, but Mrs. Armour understood. Her +reply was not wanting. "Any one who has been a friend to my husband has, +naturally, claims upon me." + +Lady Haldwell, in spite of herself, chafed. There was a subtlety in the +woman before her not to be reckoned with lightly. + +"And if an enemy?" she said, smiling. + +A strange smile also flickered across Mrs. Armour's face as she said: + +"If an enemy of my husband called, and was penitent, I should--offer her +tea, no doubt." + +"That is, in this country; but in your own country, which, I believe, +is different, what would you do?" Mrs. Armour looked steadily and coldly +into her visitor's eyes. + +"In my country enemies do not compel us to be polite." + +"By calling on you?" Lady Haldwell was growing a little reckless. +"But then, that is a savage country. We are different here. I suppose, +however, your husband told you of these things, so that you were not +surprised. And when does he come? His stay is protracted. Let me see, +how long is it? Ah yes, near four years." Here she became altogether +reckless, which she regretted afterwards, for she knew, after all, what +was due herself. "He will comeback, I suppose?" + +Lady Haldwell was no coward, else she had hesitated before speaking +in that way before this woman, in whose blood was the wildness of +the heroical North. Perhaps she guessed the passion in Lali's breast, +perhaps not. In any case she would have said what she listed at the +moment. + +Wild as were the passions in Lali's breast, she thought on the instant +of her child, of what Richard Armour would say; for he had often talked +to her about not showing her emotions and passions, had told her that +violence of all kinds was not wise or proper. Her fingers ached to grasp +this beautiful, exasperating woman by the throat. But after an effort +at calmness she remained still and silent, looking at her visitor with +a scornful dignity. Lady Haldwell presently rose,--she could not endure +the furnace of that look,--and said good-bye. She turned towards the +door. Mrs. Armour remained immovable. At that instant, however, some one +stepped from behind a large screen just inside the door. It was Richard +Armour. He was pale, and on his face was a sternness the like of +which this and perhaps only one other woman had ever seen on him. He +interrupted her. + +"Lady Haldwell has a fine talent for irony," he said, "but she does not +always use it wisely. In a man it would bear another name, and from a +man it would be differently received." He came close to her. "You are a +brave woman," he said, "or you would have been more careful. Of course +you knew that my mother and sister were not at home?" + +She smiled languidly. "And why 'of course'?" + +"I do not know that; only I know that I think so; and I also think +that my brother Frank's worst misfortune did not occur when Miss Julia +Sherwood trafficked without compunction in his happiness." + +"Don't be oracular, my dear Richard Armour," she replied. "You are +trying, really. This seems almost melodramatic; and melodrama is bad +enough at Drury Lane." + +"You are not a good friend even to yourself," he answered. + +"What a discoverer you are! And how much in earnest! Do come back to the +world, Mr. Armour; you would be a relief, a new sensation." + +"I fancy I shall come back, if only to see the 'engineer hoist with his +own'--torpedo." + +He paused before the last word to give it point, for her husband's +father had made his money out of torpedoes. She felt the sting in spite +of herself, and she saw the point. + +"And then we will talk it over at the end of the season," he added, "and +compare notes. Good-afternoon." + +"You stake much on your hazard," she said, glancing back at Lali, who +still stood immovable. "Au revoir!" She left the room. Richard heard the +door close after her and the servant retire. Then he turned to Lali. + +As he did so, she ran forward to him with a cry. "Oh, Richard, Richard!" +she exclaimed, with a sob, threw her arms over his shoulder, and let her +forehead drop on his breast. Then came a sudden impulse in his blood. +Long after he shuddered when he remembered what he thought at that +instant; what he wished to do; what rich madness possessed him. He knew +now why he had come to town; he also knew why he must not stay, or, if +staying, what must be his course. + +He took her gently by the arm and led her to a chair, speaking cheerily +to her. Then he sat down beside her, and all at once again, her face +wet and burning, she flung herself forward on her knees beside him, and +clung to him. + +"Oh, Richard, I am glad you have come," she said. "I would have killed +her if I had not thought of you. I want you to stay; I am always better +when you are with me. I have missed you, and I know that baby misses you +too." + +He had his cue. He rose, trembling a little. "Come, come," he said +heartily, "it's all right, it's all right-my sister. Let us go and see +the youngster. There, dry your eyes, and forget all about that woman. +She is only envious of you. Come, for his imperial highness!" + +She was in a tumult of feeling. It was seldom that she had shown emotion +in the past two years, and it was the more ample when it did break +forth. But she dried her eyes, and together they went to the nursery. +She dismissed the nurse and they were left alone by the sleeping +child. She knelt at the head of the little cot, and touched the child's +forehead with her lips. He stooped down also beside it. + +"He's a grand little fellow," he said. "Lali," he continued presently, +"it is time Frank came home. I am going to write for him. If he does not +come at once, I shall go and fetch him." + +"Never! never!" Her eyes flashed angrily. "Promise that you will not. +Let him come when he is ready. + +"He does not, care." She shuddered a little. + +"But he will care when he comes, and you--you care for him, Lali?" + +Again she shuddered, and a whiteness ran under the hot excitement of her +cheeks. She said nothing, but looked up at him, then dropped her face in +her hands. + +"You do care for him, Lali," he said earnestly, almost solemnly, his +lips twitching slightly. "You must care for him; it is his right; and he +will--I swear to you I know he will--care for you." + +In his own mind there was another thought, a hard, strange thought; and +it had to do with the possibility of his brother not caring for this +wife. + +Still she did not speak. + +"To a good woman, with a good husband," he continued, "there is no +one--there should be no one--like the father of her child. And no woman +ever loved her child more than you do yours." He knew that this was +special pleading. + +She trembled, and then dropped her cheek beside the child's. "I want +Frank to be happy," he went on; "there is no one I care more for than +for Frank." + +She lifted her face to him now, in it a strange light. Then her look +ran to confusion, and she seemed to read all that he meant to convey. He +knew she did. He touched her shoulder. + +"You must do the best you can every way, for Frank's sake, for all our +sakes. I will help you--God knows I will--all I can." + +"Ah, yes, yes," she whispered, from the child's pillow. + +He could see the flame in her cheek. "I understand." She put out +her hand to him, but did not look up. "Leave me alone with my baby, +Richard," she pleaded. + +He took her hand and pressed it again and again in his old, unconscious +way. Then he let it go, and went slowly to the door. There he turned and +looked back at her. He mastered the hot thought in him. "God help +me!" she murmured from the cot. The next morning Richard went back to +Greyhope. + + + + +CHAPTER VII. A COURT-MARTIAL + +It was hard to tell, save for a certain deliberateness of speech and a +colour a little more pronounced than that of a Spanish woman, that Mrs. +Frank Armour had not been brought up in England. She had a kind of grave +sweetness and distant charm which made her notable at any table or in +any ballroom. Indeed, it soon became apparent that she was to be the +pleasant talk, the interest of the season. This was tolerably comforting +to the Armours. Again Richard's prophecy had been fulfilled, and as he +sat alone at Greyhope and read the Morning Post, noticing Lali's name +at distinguished gatherings, or, picking up the World, saw how the +lion-hunters talked extravagantly of her, he took some satisfaction to +himself that he had foreseen her triumph where others looked for her +downfall. Lali herself was not elated; it gratified her, but she had +been an angel, and a very unsatisfactory one, if it had not done so. As +her confidence grew (though outwardly she had never appeared to lack +it greatly), she did not hesitate to speak of herself as an Indian, her +country as a good country, and her people as a noble if dispossessed +race; all the more so if she thought reference to her nationality and +past was being rather conspicuously avoided. She had asked General +Armour for an interview with her husband's solicitor. This was granted. +When she met the solicitor, she asked him to send no newspaper to her +husband containing any reference to herself, nor yet to mention her in +his letters. + +She had never directly received a line from him but once, and that was +after she had come to know the truth about his marriage with her. She +could read in the conventional sentences, made simple as for a child, +the strained politeness, and his absolute silence as to whether or not a +child had been born to them, the utter absence of affection for her. +She had also induced General Armour and his wife to give her husband's +solicitor no information regarding the birth of the child. There was +thus apparently no more inducement for him to hurry back to England than +there was when he had sent her off on his mission of retaliation, which +had been such an ignominious failure. For the humiliation of his family +had been short-lived, the affront to Lady Haldwell nothing at all. +The Armours had not been human if they had failed to enjoy their +daughter-in-law's success. Although they never, perhaps, would quite +recover the disappointment concerning Lady Agnes Martling, the result +was so much better than they in their cheerfulest moments dared hope +for, that they appeared genuinely content. + +To their grandchild they were devotedly attached. Marion was his +faithful slave and admirer, so much so that Captain Vidall, who now and +then was permitted to see the child, declared himself jealous. He and +Marion were to be married soon. The wedding had been delayed owing to +his enforced absence abroad. Mrs. Edward Lambert, once Mrs. Townley, +shyly regretted in Lali's presence that the child, or one as sweet, +was not hers. Her husband evidently shared her opinion, from the +extraordinary notice he took of it when his wife was not present. Not +that Richard Joseph Armour, Jun., was always en evidence, but when asked +for by his faithful friends and admirers he was amiably produced. + +Meanwhile, Frank Armour across the sea was engaged with many things. His +business concerns had not prospered prodigiously, chiefly because his +judgment, like his temper, had grown somewhat uncertain. His popularity +in the Hudson's Bay country had been at some tension since he had +shipped his wife away to England. Even the ordinary savage mind saw +something unusual and undomestic in it, and the general hospitality +declined a little. Armour did not immediately guess the cause; but one +day, about a year after his wife had gone, he found occasion to reprove +a half-breed, by name Jacques Pontiac; and Jacques, with more honesty +than politeness, said some hard words, and asked how much he paid for +his English hired devils to kill his wife. Strange to say, he did not +resent this startling remark. It set him thinking. He began to blame +himself for not having written oftener to his people--and to his wife. +He wondered how far his revenge had succeeded. He was most ashamed of it +now. He knew that he had done a dishonourable thing. The more he thought +upon it the more angry with himself he became. Yet he dreaded to go back +to England and face it all: the reproach of his people; the amusement +of society; his wife herself. He never attempted to picture her as a +civilised being. He scarcely knew her when he married her. She knew +him much better, for primitive people are quicker in the play of their +passions, and she had come to love him before he had begun to notice her +at all. + +Presently he ate his heart out with mortification. To be yoked for ever +to--a savage! It was horrible. And their children? It was strange he had +not thought of that before. Children? He shrugged his shoulders. There +might possibly be a child, but children--never! But he doubted +even regarding a child, for no word had come to him concerning that +possibility. He was even most puzzled at the tone and substance of their +letters. From the beginning there had been no reproaches, no excitement, +no railing, but studied kindness and conventional statements, through +which Mrs. Armour's solicitous affection scarcely ever peeped. He had +shot his bolt, and got--consideration, almost imperturbability. They +appeared to treat the matter as though he were a wild youth who would +not yet mend his ways. He read over their infrequent letters to him; his +to them had been still more infrequent. In one there was the statement +that "she was progressing favourably with her English"; in another, that +"she was riding a good deal"; again, that "she appeared anxious to adapt +herself to her new life." + +At all these he whistled a little to himself, and smiled bitterly. Then, +all at once, he got up and straightway burned them all. He again tried +to put the matter behind him for the present, knowing that he must face +it one day, and staving off its reality as long as possible. He did his +utmost to be philosophical and say his quid refert, but it was easier +tried than done; for Jacques Pontiac's words kept rankling in his +mind, and he found himself carrying round a vague load, which made +him abstracted occasionally, and often a little reckless in action and +speech. In hunting bear and moose he had proved himself more daring than +the oldest hunter, and proportionately successful. He paid his servants +well, but was sharp with them. + +He made long, hard expeditions, defying the weather as the hardiest of +prairie and mountain men mostly hesitate to defy it; he bought up much +land, then, dissatisfied, sold it again at a loss, but subsequently +made final arrangements for establishing a very large farm. When he +once became actually interested in this he shook off something of his +moodiness and settled himself to develop the thing. He had good talent +for initiative and administration, and at last, in the time when his +wife was a feature of the London season, he found his scheme in working +order, and the necessity of going to England was forced upon him. + +Actually he wished that the absolute necessity had presented itself +before. There was always the moral necessity, of course--but then! Here +now was a business need; and he must go. Yet he did not fix a day or +make definite arrangements. He could hardly have believed himself such a +coward. With liberal emphasis he called himself a sneak, and one day at +Fort Charles sat down to write to his solicitor in Montreal to say that +he would come on at once. Still he hesitated. As he sat there thinking, +Eye-of-the-Moon, his father-in-law, opened the door quietly and entered. +He had avoided the chief ever since he had come back to Fort Charles, +and practically had not spoken to him for a year. Armour flushed +slightly with annoyance. But presently, with a touch of his old humour, +he rose, held out his hand, and said ironically: "Well, father-in-law, +it's about time we had a big talk, isn't it? We're not very intimate for +such close relatives." + +The old Indian did not fully understand the meaning or the tone of +Armour's speech, but he said "How!" and, reaching out his hand for the +pipe offered him, lighted it, and sat down, smoking in silence. Armour +waited; but, seeing that the other was not yet moved to talk, he turned +to his letter again. After a time, Eye-of-the-Moon said gravely, getting +to his feet: "Brother!" + +Armour looked up, then rose also. The Indian bowed to him courteously, +then sat down again. Armour threw a leg over a corner of the table and +waited. + +"Brother," said the Indian presently, "you are of the great race that +conquers us. You come and take our land and our game, and we at last +have to beg of you for food and shelter. Then you take our daughters, +and we know not where they go. They are gone like the down from the +thistle. We see them not, but you remain. And men say evil things. There +are bad words abroad. Brother, what have you done with my daughter?" + +Had the Indian come and stormed, begged money of him, sponged on him, +or abused him, he had taken it very calmly--he would, in fact, have +been superior. But there was dignity in the chief's manner; there +was solemnity in his speech; his voice conveyed resoluteness and +earnestness, which the stoic calm of his face might not have suggested; +and Armour felt that he had no advantage at all. Besides, Armour had a +conscience, though he had played some rare tricks with it of late, and +it needed more hardihood than he possessed to face this old man down. +And why face him down? Lali was his daughter, blood of his blood, the +chieftainess of one branch of his people, honoured at least among these +poor savages, and the old man had a right to ask, as asked another more +famous, "Where is my daughter?" + +His hands in his pockets, Armour sat silent for a minute, eyeing +his boot, as he swung his leg to and fro. Presently he said: +"Eye-of-the-Moon, I don't think I can talk as poetically as you, even in +my own language, and I shall not try. But I should like to ask you this: +Do you believe any harm has come to your daughter--to my wife?" + +The old Indian forgot to blow the tobacco-smoke from his mouth, and, +as he sat debating, lips slightly apart, it came leaking out in little +trailing clouds and gave a strange appearance to his iron-featured face. +He looked steadily at Armour, and said: "You are of those who rule in +your land,"--here Armour protested,--"you have much gold to buy and +sell. I am a chief," he drew himself up,--"I am poor: we speak with the +straight tongue; it is cowards who lie. Speak deep as from the heart, my +brother, and tell me where my daughter is." + +Armour could not but respect the chief for the way this request was put, +but still it galled him to think that he was under suspicion of having +done any bodily injury to his wife, so he quietly persisted: "Do you +think I have done Lali any harm?" + +"The thing is strange," replied the other. "You are of those who are +great among your people. You married a daughter of a red man. Then she +was yours for less than one moon, and you sent her far away, and you +stayed. Her father was as a dog in your sight. Do men whose hearts are +clear act so? They have said strange things of you. I have not believed; +but it is good I know all, that I may say to the tale-bearers, 'You have +crooked tongues.'" + +Armour sat for a moment longer, his face turned to the open window. He +was perfectly still, but he had become grave. He was about to reply to +the chief, when the trader entered the room hurriedly with a newspaper +in his hand. He paused abruptly when he saw Eye-of-the-Moon. Armour felt +that the trader had something important to communicate. He guessed it +was in the paper. He mutely held out his hand for it. The trader handed +it to him hesitatingly, at the same time pointing to a paragraph, and +saying: "It is nearly two years old, as you see. I chanced upon it by +accident to-day." + +It was a copy of a London evening paper, containing a somewhat +sensational account of Lali's accident. It said that she was in a +critical condition. This time Armour did not ask for brandy, but the +trader put it out beside him. He shook his head. "Gordon," he said +presently, "I shall leave here in the morning. Please send my men to +me." + +The trader whispered to him: "She was all right, of course, long ago, +Mr. Armour, or you would have heard." + +Armour looked at the date of the paper. He had several letters from +England of a later date, and these said nothing of her illness. It +bewildered him, made him uneasy. Perhaps the first real sense of his +duty as a husband came home to him there. For the first time he was +anxious about the woman for her own sake. The trader had left the room. + +"What a scoundrel I've been!" said Armour between his teeth, oblivious, +for the moment, of Eye-of-the-Moon's presence. Presently, bethinking +himself, he turned to the Indian. "I've been debating," he said. +"Eye-of-the-Moon, my wife is in England, at my father's home. I am +going to her. Men have lied in thinking I would do her any injury, +but--but--never mind, the harm was of another kind. It isn't wise for a +white man and an Indian to marry, but when they are married--well, they +must live as man and wife should live, and, as I said, I am going to my +wife." + +To say all this to a common Indian, whose only property was a dozen +ponies and a couple of tepees, required something very like moral +courage; but then Armour had not been exercising moral courage during +the last year or so, and its exercise was profitable to him. The next +morning he was on his way to Montreal, and Eye-of-the-Moon was the +richest chief in British North America, at that moment, by five thousand +dollars or so. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. TO EVERY MAN HIS HOUR + +It was the close of the season: many people had left town, but +festivities were still on. To a stranger the season might have seemed +at its height. The Armours were giving a large party in Cavendish Square +before going back again to Greyhope, where, for the sake of Lali and +her child, they intended to remain during the rest of the summer, +in preference to going on the Continent or to Scotland. The only +unsatisfactory feature of Lali's season was the absence of her husband. +Naturally there were those who said strange things regarding Frank +Armour's stay in America; but it was pretty generally known that he was +engaged in land speculations, and his club friends, who perhaps took the +pleasantest view of the matter, said that he was very wise indeed, if a +little cowardly, in staying abroad until his wife was educated and ready +to take her position in society. There was one thing on which they were +all agreed: Mrs. Frank Armour either had a mind superior to the charms +of their sex, or was incapable of that vanity which hath many suitors, +and says: "So far shalt thou go, and--" The fact is, Mrs. Frank Armour's +mind was superior. She had only one object--to triumph over her husband +grandly, as a woman righteously might. She had vanity, of course, but it +was not ignoble. She kept one thing in view; she lived for it. + +Her translation had been successful. There were times when she +remembered her father, the wild days on the prairies, the buffalo-hunt, +tracking the deer, tribal battles, the long silent hours of the winter, +and the warm summer nights when she slept in the prairie grass or camped +with her people in the trough of a great landwave. Sometimes the hunger +for its freedom, and its idleness, and its sport, came to her greatly; +but she thought of her child, and she put it from her. She was ambitious +for him; she was keen to prove her worth as a wife against her husband's +unworthiness. This perhaps saved her. She might have lost had her life +been without this motive. + +The very morning of this notable reception, General Armour had received +a note from Frank Armour's solicitor, saying that his son was likely to +arrive in London from America that day or the next. Frank had written to +his people no word of his coming; to his wife, as we have said, he had +not written for months; and before he started back he would not write, +because he wished to make what amends he could in person. He expected to +find her improved, of course, but still he could only think of her as an +Indian, showing her common prairie origin. His knowledge of her before +their marriage had been particularly brief; she was little more in +his eyes than a thousand other Indian women, save that she was +better-looking, was whiter than most, and had finer features. He +could not very clearly remember the tones of her voice, because after +marriage, and before he had sent her to England, he had seen little or +nothing of her. + +When General Armour received the news of Frank's return he told his wife +and Marion, and they consulted together whether it were good to let Lali +know at once. He might arrive that evening. If so, the position would be +awkward, because it was impossible to tell how it might affect her. If +they did tell her, and Frank happened not to arrive, it might unnerve +her so as to make her appearance in the evening doubtful. Richard, the +wiseacre, the inexhaustible Richard, was caring for his cottagers and +cutting the leaves of new books--his chiefest pleasure--at Greyhope. +They felt it was a matter they ought to be able to decide for +themselves, but still it was the last evening of Lali's stay in town, +and they did not care to take any risk. Strange to say, they had come +to take pride in their son's wife; for even General and Mrs. Armour, +high-minded and of serene social status as they were, seemed not quite +insensible to the pleasure of being an axle on which a system of social +notoriety revolved. + +At the opportune moment Captain Vidall was announced, and, because he +and Marion were soon to carry but one name between them, he was called +into family consultation. It is somewhat singular that in this case the +women were quite wrong and the men were quite right. For General Armour +and Captain Vidall were for silence until Frank came, if he came that +day, or for telling her the following morning, when the function was +over. And the men prevailed. + +Marion was much excited all day; she had given orders that Frank's room +should be made ready, but for whom she gave no information. While Lali +was dressing for the evening, something excited and nervous, she entered +her room. They were now the best of friends. The years had seen many +shifting scenes in their companionship; they had been as often at war as +at peace; but they had respected each other, each after her own fashion; +and now they had a real and mutual regard. Lali's was a slim, lithe +figure, wearing its fashionable robes with an air of possession; and +the face above it, if not entirely beautiful, had a strange, warm +fascination. The girl had not been a chieftainess for nothing. A look +of quiet command was there, but also a far-away expression which gave +a faint look of sadness even when a smile was at the lips. The smile +itself did not come quickly, it grew; but above it all was hair of +perfect brown, most rare,--setting off her face as a plume does a +helmet. She showed no surprise when Marion entered. She welcomed her +with a smile and outstretched hand, but said nothing. + +"Lali," said Marion somewhat abruptly,--she scarcely knew why she said +it,--"are you happy?" + +It was strange how the Indian girl had taken on those little manners of +society which convey so much by inflection. She lifted her eyebrows at +Marion, and said presently, in a soft, deliberate voice, "Come, Marion, +we will go and see little Richard; then I shall be happy." + +She linked her arm through Marion's. Marion drummed her fingers lightly +on the beautiful arm, and then fell to wondering what she should say +next. They passed into the room where the child lay sleeping; they went +to his little bed, and Lali stretched out her hand gently, touching the +curls of the child. Running a finger through one delicately, she said, +with a still softer tone than before: "Why should not one be happy?" + +Marion looked up slowly into her eyes, let a hand fall on her shoulder +gently, and replied: "Lali, do you never wish Frank to come?" + +Lali's fingers came from the child, the colour mounted slowly to her +forehead, and she drew the girl away again into the other room. Then she +turned and faced Marion, a deep fire in her eyes, and said, in a whisper +almost hoarse in its intensity: "Yes; I wish he would come to-night." + +She looked harder yet at Marion; then, with a flash of pride and her +hands clasping before her, she drew herself up, and added: "Am I not +worthy to be his wife now? Am I not beautiful--for a savage?" + +There was no common vanity in the action. It had a noble kind of +wistfulness, and a serenity that entirely redeemed it. Marion dated +her own happiness from the time when Lali met her accident, for in +the evening of that disastrous day she issued to Captain Hume Vidall a +commission which he could never--wished never--to resign. Since then she +had been at her best,--we are all more or less selfish creatures,--and +had grown gentler, curbing the delicate imperiousness of her nature, +and frankly, and without the least pique, taken a secondary position of +interest in the household, occasioned by Lali's popularity. She looked +Lali up and down with a glance in which many feelings met, and then, +catching her hands warmly, she lifted them, put them on her own +shoulders, and said: "My dear beautiful savage, you are fit and worthy +to be Queen of England; and Frank, when he comes--" + +"Hush!" said the other dreamily, and put a finger on Marion's lips. "I +know what you are going to say, but I do not wish to hear it. He did +not love me then. He used me--" She shuddered, put her hands to her eyes +with a pained, trembling motion, then threw her head back with a quick +sigh. "But I will not speak of it. Come, we are for the dance, Marion. +It is the last, to-night. To-morrow--" She paused, looking straight +before her, lost in thought. + +"Yes, to-morrow, Lali?" + +"I do not know about to-morrow," was the reply. "Strange things come to +me." + +Marion longed to tell her then and there the great news, but she was +afraid to do so, and was, moreover, withheld by the remembrance that it +had been agreed she should not be told. She said nothing. + +At eleven o'clock the rooms were filled. For the fag end of the season, +people seemed unusually brilliant. The evening itself was not so hot as +common, and there was an extra array of distinguished guests. Marion +was nervous all the evening, though she showed little of it, being most +prettily employed in making people pleased with themselves. Mrs. Armour +also was not free from apprehension. In reply to inquiries concerning +her son she said, as she had often said during the season, that he might +be back at any time now. Lali had answered always in the same fashion, +and had shown no sign that his continued absence was singular. As the +evening wore on, the probability of Frank's appearance seemed less; and +the Armours began to breathe more freely. + +Frank had, however, arrived. He had driven straight from Euston to +Cavendish Square, but, seeing the house lighted up, and guests arriving, +he had a sudden feeling of uncertainty. He ordered the cabman to take +him to his club. There he put himself in evening-dress, and drove back +again to the house. He entered quietly. At the moment the hall was +almost deserted; people were mostly in the ballroom and supper-room. +He paused a moment, biting his moustache as if in perplexity. A strange +timidity came on him. All his old dash and self-possession seemed to +have forsaken him. Presently, seeing a number of people entering the +hall, he made for the staircase, and went hastily up. Mechanically he +went to his own room, and found it lighted. Flowers were set about, and +everything was made ready as for a guest. He sat down, not thinking, but +dazed. + +Glancing up, he saw his face in a mirror. It was bronzed, but it looked +rather old and careworn. He shrugged a shoulder at that. Then, in the +mirror, he saw also something else. It startled him so that he sat +perfectly still for a moment looking at it. It was some one laughing at +him over his shoulder--a child! He got to his feet and turned round. On +the table was a very large photograph of a smiling child--with his eyes, +his face. He caught the chair-arm, and stood looking at it a little +wildly. Then he laughed a strange laugh, and the tears leaped to +his eyes. He caught the picture in his hands, and kissed it,--very +foolishly, men not fathers might think,--and read the name beneath, +Richard Joseph Armour; and again, beneath that, the date of birth. +He then put it back on the table and sat looking at it-looking, and +forgetting, and remembering. + +Presently, the door opened, and some one entered. It was Marion. She had +seen him pass through the hall; she had then gone and told her father +and mother, to prepare them, and had followed him upstairs. He did not +hear her. She stepped softly forwards. "Frank!" she said--"Frank!" and +laid a hand on his shoulder. He started up and turned his face on her. + +Then he caught her hands and kissed her. "Marion!" he said, and he could +say no more. But presently he pointed towards the photograph. + +She nodded her head. "Yes, it is your child, Frank. Though, of course, +you don't deserve it.... Frank dear," she added, "I am glad--we shall +all be glad-to have you back; but you are a wicked man." She felt she +must say that. + +Now he only nodded, and still looked at the portrait. "Where is--my +wife?" he added presently. + +"She is in the ballroom." Marion was wondering what was best to do. + +He caught his thumb-nail in his teeth. He winced in spite of himself. "I +will go to her," he said, "and then--the baby." + +"I am glad," she replied, "that you have so much sense of justice left, +Frank: the wife first, the baby afterwards. But do you think you deserve +either?" + +He became moody, and made an impatient gesture. "Lady Agnes Martling is +here, and also Lady Haldwell," she persisted cruelly. She did not mind, +because she knew he would have enough to compensate him afterwards. + +"Marion," he said, "say it all, and let me have it over. Say what you +like, and I'll not whimper. I'll face it. But I want to see my child." + +She was sorry for him. She had really wanted to see how much he was +capable of feeling in the matter. + +"Wait here, Frank," she said. "That will be best; and I will bring your +wife to you." + +He said nothing, but assented with a motion of the hand, and she left +him where he was. He braced himself for the interview. Assuredly a man +loses something of natural courage and self-confidence when he has done +a thing of which he should be, and is, ashamed. + +It seemed a long time (it was in reality but a couple of minutes) before +the door opened again, and Marion said: "Frank, your wife!" and then +retreated. + +The door closed, leaving a stately figure standing just inside it. The +figure did not move forwards, but stood there, full of life and fine +excitement, but very still also. + +Frank Armour was confounded. He came forwards slowly, looking hard. +Was this distinguished, handsome, reproachful woman his wife--Lali, the +Indian girl, whom he had married in a fit of pique and brandy? He could +hardly believe his eyes; and yet hers looked out at him with something +that he remembered too, together with something which he did not +remember, making him uneasy. Clearly, his great mistake had turned from +ashes into fruit. "Lali!" he said, and held out his hand. + +She reached out hers courteously, but her fingers gave him no response. + +"We have many things to say to each other," she said, "but they cannot +be said now. I shall be missed from the ballroom." + +"Missed from the ballroom!" He almost laughed to think how strange this +sounded in his ears. As if interpreting his thought, she added: "You +see, it is our last affair of the season, and we are all anxious to do +our duty perfectly. Will you go down with me? We can talk afterwards." + +Her continued self-possession utterly confused him. She had utterly +confused Marion also, when told that her husband was in the house. She +had had presentiments, and, besides, she had been schooling herself for +this hour for a long time. She turned towards the door. + +"But," he asked, like a supplicant, "our child! I want to see the boy." + +She lifted her eyebrows, then, seeing the photograph of the baby on the +table, understood how he knew. "Come with me, then," she said, with a +little more feeling. + +She led the way along the landing, and paused at her door. "Remember +that we have to appear amongst the guests directly," she said, as though +to warn him against any demonstration. Then they entered. She went over +to the cot and drew back the fleecy curtain from over the sleeping +boy's head. His fingers hungered to take his child to his arms. "He is +magnificent--magnificent!" he said, with a great pride. "Why did you +never let me know of it?" + +"How could I tell what you would do?" she calmly replied. "You married +me--wickedly, and used me wickedly afterwards; and I loved the child." + +"You loved the child," he repeated after her. "Lali," he added, "I don't +deserve it, but forgive me, if you can--for the child's sake." + +"We had better go below," she calmly replied. "We have both duties to +do. You will of course--appear with me--before them?" + +The slight irony in the tone cut him horribly. He offered his arm in +silence. They passed on to the staircase. + +"It is necessary," she said, "to appear cheerful before one's guests." + +She had him at an advantage at every point. "We will be cheerful, then," +was his reply, spoken with a grim kind of humour. "You have learned it +all, haven't you?" he added. + +They were just entering the ballroom. "Yes, with your kind help--and +absence," she replied. + +The surprise of the guests was somewhat diminished by the fact that +Marion, telling General Armour and his wife first of Frank's return, +industriously sent the news buzzing about the room. + +The two went straight to Frank's father and mother. Their parts were +all excellently played. Then Frank mingled among the guests, being +very heartily greeted, and heard congratulations on all sides. Old club +friends rallied him as a deserter, and new acquaintances flocked about +him; and presently he awakened to the fact that his Indian wife had been +an interest of the season, was not the least admired person present. +It was altogether too good luck for him; but he had an uncomfortable +conviction that he had a long path of penance to walk before he could +hope to enjoy it. + +All at once he met Lady Haldwell, who, in spite of all, still accepted +invitations to General Armour's house--the strange scene between Lali +and herself never having been disclosed to the family. He had nothing +but bitterness in his heart for her, but he spoke a few smooth words, +and she languidly congratulated him on his bronzed appearance. He asked +for a dance, but she had not one to give him. As she was leaving, she +suddenly turned as though she had forgotten something, and looking at +him, said: "I forgot to congratulate you on your marriage. I hope it is +not too late?" + +He bowed. "Your congratulations are so sincere," he said, "that they +would be a propos late or early." When he stood with his wife whilst +the guests were leaving, and saw with what manner she carried it all +off,--as though she had been born in the good land of good breeding,--he +was moved alternately with wonder and shame--shame that he had intended +this noble creature as a sacrifice to his ugly temper and spite. + +When all the guests were gone and the family stood alone in the +drawing-room, a silence suddenly fell amongst them. Presently Marion +said to her mother in a half-whisper, "I wish Richard were here." + +They all felt the extreme awkwardness of the situation, especially when +Lali bade General Armour, Mrs. Armour, and Marion good-night, and then, +turning to her husband, said, "Good-night"--she did not even speak his +name. "Perhaps you would care to ride to-morrow morning? I always go to +the Park at ten, and this will be my last ride of the season." + +Had she written out an elaborate proclamation of her intended attitude +towards her husband, it could not have more clearly conveyed her mind +than this little speech, delivered as to a most friendly acquaintance. +General Armour pulled his moustache fiercely, and, it is possible, +enjoyed the situation, despite its peril. Mrs. Armour turned to the +mantel and seemed tremulously engaged in arranging some bric-a-brac. +Marion, however, with a fine instinct, slid her arm through that of +Lali, and gently said: "Yes, of course Frank will be glad of a ride +in the Park. He used to ride with me every morning. But let us go, us +three, and kiss the baby good-night--'good-night till we meet in the +morning.'" + +She linked her arm now through Frank's, and as she did so he replied to +Lali: "I shall be glad to ride in the morning, but--" + +"But we can arrange it at breakfast," said his wife hurriedly. At the +same time she allowed herself to be drawn away to the hall with her +husband. + +He was very angry, but he knew he had no right to be so. He choked back +his wrath and moved on amiably enough, and suddenly the fashion in which +the tables had been turned on him struck him with its tragic comedy, and +he involuntarily smiled. His sense of humour saved him from words and +acts which might possibly have made the matter a pure tragedy after all. +He loosed his arm from Marion's. + +"I must bid father and mother good-night. Then I will join you both--'in +the court of the king.'" And he turned and went back, and said to his +father as he kissed his mother: "I am had at an advantage, General." + +"And serves you right, my boy. You had the odds with you, but she has +captured them like a born soldier." His mother said to him gently: +"Frank, you blamed us, but remember that we wished only your good. Take +my advice, dear, and try to love your wife and win her confidence." + +"Love her--try to love her!" he said. "I shall easily do that. But the +other--?" He shook his head a little, though what he meant perhaps he +did not know quite himself, and then followed Marion and Lali upstairs. +Marion had tried to escape from Lali, but was told that she must stay; +and the three met at the child's cot. Marion stooped down and kissed its +forehead. Frank stooped also and kissed its cheek. Then the wife kissed +the other cheek. The child slept peacefully on. "You can always see the +baby here before breakfast, if you choose," said Lali; and she held out +her hand again in good-night. At this point Marion stole away, in spite +of Lah's quick little cry of "Wait, Marion!" and the two were left alone +again. + +"I am very tired," she said. "I would rather not talk to-night." The +dismissal was evident. + +He took her hand, held it an instant, and presently said: "I will not +detain you, but I would ask you, Lali, to remember that you are my wife. +Nothing can alter that." + +"Still we are only strangers, as you know," she quietly rejoined. + +"You forget the days we were together--after we were married," he +cautiously urged. + +"I am not the same girl,... you killed her... We have to start again.... +I know all." + +"You know that in my wretched anger and madness I--" + +"Oh, please do not speak of it," she said; "it is so bad even in +thought." + +"But will you never forgive me, and care for me? We have to live our +lives together." + +"Pray let us not speak of it now," she said, in a weary voice; then, +breathlessly: "It is of much more consequence that you should love +me--and the child." + +He drew himself up with a choking sigh, and spread out his arms to her. +"Oh, my wife!" he exclaimed. + +"No, no," she cried, "this is unreasonable; we know so little of each +other.... Good-night, again." + +He turned at the door, came back, and, stooping, kissed the child on the +lips. Then he said: "You are right. I deserve to suffer.... Good-night." + +But when he was gone she dropped on her knees, and kissed the child many +times on the lips also. + + + + +CHAPTER IX. THE FAITH OF COMRADES + +When Francis Armour left his wife's room he did not go to his own, but +quietly descended the stairs, went to the library, and sat down. The +loneliest thing in the world is to be tete-a-tete with one's conscience. +A man may have a bad hour with an enemy, a sad hour with a friend, +a peaceful hour with himself, but when the little dwarf, conscience, +perches upon every hillock of remembrance and makes slow signs--those +strange symbols of the language of the soul--to him, no slave upon the +tread-mill suffers more. + +The butler came in to see if anything was required, but Armour only +greeted him silently and waved him away. His brain was painfully alert, +his memory singularly awake. It seemed that the incident of this hour +had so opened up every channel of his intelligence that all his life ran +past him in fantastic panorama, as by that illumination which comes to +the drowning man. He seemed under some strange spell. Once or twice he +rose, rubbed his eyes, and looked round the room--the room where as a +boy he had spent idle hours, where as a student he had been in the hands +of his tutor, and as a young man had found recreations such as belong +to ambitious and ardent youth. Every corner was familiar. Nothing was +changed. The books upon the shelves were as they were placed twenty +years ago. And yet he did not seem a part of it. It did not seem natural +to him. He was in an atmosphere of strangeness--that atmosphere which +surrounds a man, as by a cloud, when some crisis comes upon him and +his life seems to stand still, whirling upon its narrow base, while the +world appears at an interminable distance, even as to a deaf man who +sees yet cannot hear. + +There came home to him at that moment with a force indescribable the +shamelessness of the act he committed four years ago. He had thought to +come back to miserable humiliation. For four years he had refused to do +his duty as a man towards an innocent woman,--a woman, though in part +a savage,--now transformed into a gentle, noble creature of delight and +goodness. How had he deserved it? He had sown the storm, it was but just +that he should reap the whirlwind; he had scattered thistles, could he +expect to gather grapes? He knew that the sympathy of all his father's +house was not with him, but with the woman he had wronged. He was glad +it was so. Looking back now, it seemed so poor and paltry a thing that +he, a man, should stoop to revenge himself upon those who had given him +birth, as a kind of insult to the woman who had lightly set him aside, +and should use for that purpose a helpless, confiding girl. To revenge +one's self for wrong to one's self is but a common passion, which +has little dignity; to avenge some one whom one has loved, man or +woman,--and, before all, woman,--has some touch of nobility, is redeemed +by loyalty. For his act there was not one word of defence to be made, +and he was not prepared to make it. + +The cigars and liquors were beside him, but he did not touch them. He +seemed very far away from the ordinary details of his life: he knew +he had before him hard travel, and he was not confident of the end. He +could not tell how long he sat there.--After, a time the ticking of +the clock seemed painfully loud to him. Now and again he heard a cab +rattling through the Square, and the foolish song of some drunken +loiterer in the night caused him to start painfully. Everything jarred +on him. Once he got up, went to the window, and looked out. The moon was +shining full on the Square. He wondered if it would be well for him to +go out and find some quiet to his nerves in walking. He did so. Out in +the Square he looked up to his wife's window. It was lighted. Long time +he walked up and down, his eyes on the window. It held him like a charm. +Once he leaned against the iron railings of the garden and looked +up, not moving for a time. Presently he saw the curtain of the window +raised, and against the dim light of the room was outlined the figure of +his wife. He knew it. She stood for a moment looking out into the night. +She could not see him, nor could he see her features at all plainly, +but he knew that she, like him, was alone with the catastrophe which his +wickedness had sent upon her. Soon the curtain was drawn down again, +and then he went once more to the house and took his old seat beside +the table. He fell to brooding, and at last, exhausted, dropped to a +troubled sleep. He woke with a start. Some one was in the room. He heard +a step behind him. He came to his feet quickly, a wild light in his +eyes. He faced his brother Richard. + +Late in the afternoon Marion had telegraphed to Richard that Frank was +coming. He had been away visiting some poor and sick people, and when he +came back to Greyhope it was too late to catch the train. But the horses +were harnessed straightway, and he was driven into town, a three-hours' +drive. He had left the horses at the stables, and, having a latch-key, +had come in quietly. He had seen the light in the study, and guessed who +was there. He entered, and saw his brother asleep. He watched him for a +moment and studied him. Then he moved away to take off his hat, and, as +he did so, stumbled slightly. Then it was Frank waked, and for the first +time in five years they looked each other in the eyes. They both stood +immovable for a moment, and then Richard caught Frank's hand in both of +his and said: "God bless you, my boy! I am glad you are back." + +"Dick! Dick!" was the reply, and Frank's other hand clutched Richard's +shoulder in his strong emotion. They stood silent for a moment longer, +and then Richard recovered himself. He waved his hand to the chairs. The +strain of the situation was a little painful for them both. Men are shy +with each other where their emotions are in play. + +"Why, my boy," he said, waving a hand to the spirits and liqueurs, "full +bottles and unopened boxes? Tut, tut! here's a pretty how-d'ye-do. Is +this the way you toast the home quarters? You're a fine soldier for an +old mess!" + +So saying, he poured out some whiskey, then opened the box of cigars and +pushed them towards his brother. He did not care particularly to drink +or smoke himself, but a man--an Englishman--is a strange creature. He is +most natural and at ease when he is engaged in eating and drinking. +He relieves every trying situation by some frivolous and selfish +occupation, as of dismembering a partridge, or mixing a punch. + +"Well, Frank," said his brother, "now what have you to say for yourself? +Why didn't you come long ago? You have played the adventurer for five +years, and what have you to show for it? Have you a fortune?" Frank +shook his head, and twisted a shoulder. "What have you done that is +worth the doing, then?" + +"Nothing that I intended to do, Dick," was the grave reply. + +"Yes, I imagined that. You have seen them, have you?" he added, in a +softer voice. + +Frank blew a great cloud of smoke about his face, and through it he +said: "Yes, I have seen a damned sight more than I deserved to see." + +"Oh, of course; I know that, my boy; but, so far as I can see, in +another direction you are getting quite what you deserve: your wife and +child are upstairs--you are here." + +He paused, was silent for a moment, then leaned over, caught his +brother's arm, and said, in a low, strenuous voice: "Frank Armour, you +laid a hateful little plot for us. It wasn't manly, but we forgave it +and did the best we could. But see here, Frank, take my word for it, you +have had a lot of luck. There isn't one woman out of ten thousand that +would have stood the test as your wife has stood it; injured at the +start, constant neglect, temptation--" he paused. "My boy, did you ever +think of that, of the temptation to a woman neglected by her husband? +The temptation to men? Yes, you have had a lot of luck. There has been +a special providence for you, my boy; but not for your sake. God doesn't +love neglectful husbands, but I think He is pretty sorry for neglected +wives." + +Frank was very still. His head drooped, the cigar hung unheeded in his +fingers for a moment, and he said at last: "Dick, old boy, I've thought +it all over to-night since I came back--everything that you've said. I +have not a word of defence to make, but, by heaven! I'm going to win my +wife's love if I can, and when I do it I'll make up for all my cursed +foolishness--see if I don't." + +"That sounds well, Frank," was the quiet reply. "I like to hear you talk +that way. You would be very foolish if you did not. What do you think of +the child?" + +"Can you ask me what I think? He is a splendid little fellow." + +"Take care of him, then--take good care of him: you may never have +another," was the grim rejoinder. Frank winced. His brother rose, took +his arm, and said: "Let us go to our rooms, Frank. There will be time +enough to talk later, and I am not so young as I once was." + +Truth to say, Richard Armour was not so young as he seemed a few months +before. His shoulders were a little stooped, he was greyer about the +temples. The little bit of cynicism which had appeared in that remark +about the care of the child showed also in the lines of his mouth; yet +his eyes had the same old true, honest look. But a man cannot be hit in +mortal places once or twice in his life without its being etched on his +face or dropped like a pinch of aloe from his tongue. + +Still they sat and talked much longer, Frank showing better than when +his brother came, Richard gone grey and tired. At last Richard rose and +motioned towards the window. "See, Frank," he said, "it is morning." +Then he went and lifted the blind. The grey, unpurged air oozed on +the glass. The light was breaking over the tops of the houses. A +crossing-sweeper early to his task, or holding the key of the street, +went pottering by, and a policeman glanced up at them as he passed. +Richard drew down the curtain again. + +"Dick," said Frank suddenly, "you look old. I wonder if I have changed +as much?" + +Six months before, Frank Armour would have said hat his brother looked +young. + +"Oh, you look young enough, Frank," was the reply. "But I am a good deal +older than I was five years ago... Come, let us go to bed." + + + + +CHAPTER X. THOU KNOWEST THE SECRETS OF OUR HEARTS + +And Lali? How had the night gone for her? When she rose from the child's +cot, where her lips had caught the warmth that her husband had left on +them, she stood for a moment bewildered in the middle of the room. She +looked at the door out of which he had gone, her bosom beating hard, her +heart throbbing so that it hurt her--that she could have cried out from +mere physical pain. The wifedom in her was plundering the wild stores of +her generous soul for the man, for--as Richard had said that day, +that memorable day!--the father of her child. But the woman, the pure +translated woman, who was born anew when this frail life in its pink and +white glory crept out into the dazzling world, shrank back, as any girl +might shrink that had not known marriage. This child had come--from +what?--She shuddered now--how many times had she done so since she first +waked to the vulgar sacrilege of her marriage? She knew now that every +good mother, when her first child is born, takes it in her arms, and, +all her agony gone, and the ineffable peace of delivered motherhood +come, speaks the name of its father, and calls it his child. But--she +remembered it now--when her child was born, this little waif, the fruit +of a man's hot, malicious hour, she wrapped it in her arms, pressed its +delicate flesh to the silken folds of her bosom, and weeping, whispered +only: "My child, my little, little child!" + +She had never, as many a wife far from her husband has done, talked to +her child of its father, told it of his beauty and his virtues, arrayed +it day by day in sweet linen and pretty adornments, as if he were just +then knocking at her door; she had never imagined what he would say +when he did come. What could such a father think of his child, born of a +woman whose very life he had intended as an insult? No, she had loved +it for father and mother also. She had tried to be good, a good mother, +living a life unutterably lonely, hard in all that it involved of study, +new duty, translation, and burial of primitive emotions. And with all +the care and tearful watchfulness that had been needed, she had grown so +proud, so exacting--exacting for her child, proud for herself. + +How could she know now that this hasty declaration of affection was +anything more than the mere man in him? Years ago she had not been able +to judge between love and insult--what guarantee had she here? Did +he think that she could believe in him? She was not the woman he +had married, he was not the man she had married. He had deceived +her basely--she had been a common chattel. She had been miserable +enough--could she give herself over to his flying emotions again so +suddenly? + +She paced the room, her face now in her hands, her hands now clasping +and wringing before her. Her wifely duty? She straightened to that. +Duty! She was first and before all a good, unpolluted woman. No, no, it +could not be. Love him? Again she shrank. Then came flooding on her that +afternoon when she had flung herself on Richard's breast, and all those +hundred days of happiness in Richard's company--Richard the considerate, +the strong, who had stood so by his honour in an hour of peril. + +Now as she thought of it a hot wave shivered through all her body, and +tingled to her hair. Her face again dropped in her hands, and, as on +that other day, she knelt beside the cot, and, bursting into tears, +said through her sobs: "My baby, my own dear baby! Oh, that we could go +away--away--and never come back again!" + +She did not know how intense her sobs were. They waked the child from +its delicate sleep; its blue eyes opened wide and wise all on the +instant, its round soft arm ran up to its mother's neck, and it said: +"Don't c'y! I want to s'eep wif you! I'se so s'eepy!" + +She caught the child to her wet face, smiled at it through her tears, +went with it to her own bed, put it away in the deep whiteness, kissed +it, and fondled it away again into the heaven of sleep. When this was +done she felt calmer. How she hungered over it! This--this could not be +denied her. This, at least, was all hers, without clause or reservation, +an absolute love, and an absolute right. + +She disrobed and drew in beside the child, and its little dewy cheek +touching her breast seemed to ease the ache in her soul. + +But sleep would not come. All the past four years trooped by, with their +thousand incidents magnified in the sharp, throbbing light of her mind, +and at last she knew and saw clearly what was before her, what trials, +what duty, and what honour demanded--her honour. + +Richard? Once for all she gently put him away from her into that +infinite distance of fine respect which a good woman can feel, who has +known what she and Richard had known--and set aside. But he had made for +her so high a standard, that for one to be measured thereby was a severe +challenge. + +Could Frank come even to that measure? She dared not try to answer the +question. She feared, she shrank, she grew sick at heart. She did not +reckon with that other thing, that powerful, infinite influence which +ties a woman, she knows not how or why, to the man who led her to the +world of motherhood. Through all the wrongs which she may suffer by him, +there runs this cable of unhappy attraction, testified to by how many +sorrowful lives! + +But Lali was trying to think it out, not only to feel, and she did +not count that subterranean force which must play its part in this new +situation in her drama of life. Could she love him? She crept away out +of the haven where her child was, put on her dressing-gown, went to the +window, and looked out upon the night, all unconscious that her husband +was looking at her from the Square below. Love him?--Love him?--Love +him? Could she? Did he love her? Her eyes wandered over the Square. +Nowhere else was there a light, but a chimney-flue was creaking +somewhere. It jarred on her so that she shrank. Then all at once she +smiled to think how she had changed. Four years ago she could have slept +amid the hammers of a foundry. The noise ceased. Her eyes passed from +the cloud of trees in the Square to the sky-all stars, and restful deep +blue. That--that was the same. How she knew it! Orion and Ashtaroth, and +Mars and the Pleiades, and the long trail of the Milky Way. As a little +child hanging in the trees, or sprawled beside a tepee, she had made +friends with them all, even as she learned and loved all the signs of +the earth beneath--the twist of a blade of grass, the portent in the cry +of a river-hen, the colour of a star, the smell of a wind. She had known +Nature then, now she knew men. And knowing them, and having suffered, +and sick at heart as she was, standing by this window in the dead of +night, the cry that shook her softly was not of her new life, but of the +old, primitive, child-like. + +'Pasagathe, omarki kethose kolokani vorgantha pestorondikat Oni.' + +"A spear hath pierced me, and the smart of the nettle is in my wound. +Maker of the soft night, bind my wounds with sleep, lest I cry out and +be a coward and unworthy." + +Again and again, unconsciously, the words passed from her lips + +'Vorganthe, pestorondikat Oni.' + +At last she let down the blind, came to the bed, and once more gathered +her child in her arms with an infinite hunger. This love was hers--rich, +untrammelled, and so sacred. No matter what came, and she did not know +what would come, she had the child. There was a kind of ecstasy in +it, and she lay and trembled with the feeling, but at last fell into a +troubled sleep. + +She waked suddenly to hear footsteps passing her door. She listened. One +footstep was heavier than the other--heavier and a little stumbling; she +recognised them, Frank and Richard. In that moment her heart hardened. +Frank Armour must tread a difficult road. + + + + +CHAPTER XI. UPON THE HIGHWAY + +Frank visited the child in the morning, and was received with a casual +interest. Richard Joseph Armour was fastidious, was not to be won at the +grand gallop. Besides, he had just had a visit from his uncle, and the +good taste of that gay time was yet in his mouth. He did not resent the +embraces, but he did not respond to them, and he straightened himself +with relief when the assault was over. Some one was paying homage to +him, that was all he knew; but for his own satisfaction and pleasure +he preferred as yet his old comrades, Edward Lambert, Captain Vidall, +General Armour, and, above all, Richard. He only showed real interest at +the last, when he asked, as it were in compromise, if his father would +give him a sword. No one had ever talked to him of his father, and +he had no instinct for him so far as could be seen. The sword was, +therefore, after the manner of a concession. Frank rashly promised it, +and was promptly told by Marion that it couldn't be; and she was backed +by Captain Vidall, who said it had already been tabooed, and Frank +wasn't to come in and ask for favours or expect them. + +The husband and wife met at breakfast. He was down first. When his wife +entered, he came to her, they touched hands, and she presently took a +seat beside him. More than once he paused suddenly in his eating, when +he thought of his inexplicable case. He was now face to face with a +reversed situation. He had once picked up a pebble from the brown dirt +of a prairie, that he might toss it into the pool of this home life; and +he had tossed it, and from the sweet bath there had come out a precious +stone, which he longed to wear, and knew that he could not--not yet. +He could have coerced a lower being, but for his manhood's sake--he had +risen to that now, it is curious how the dignity of fatherhood helps to +make a man--he could not coerce here, and if he did, he knew that the +product would be disaster. + +He listened to her talk with Marion and Captain Vidall. Her voice +was musical, balanced, her language breathed; it had manner, and an +indescribable cadence of intelligence, joined to a deliberation, which +touched her off with distinction. When she spoke to him--and she +seemed to do that as by studied intention and with tact at certain +intervals--her manner was composed and kind. She had resolved on her +part. She asked him about his journey over, about his plans for the day, +and if he had decided to ride with her in the Park,--he could have +the general's mount, she was sure, for the general was not going that +day,--and would he mind doing a little errand for her afterwards in +Regent Street, for the child--she feared she herself would not have +time? + +Just then General Armour entered, and, passing behind her, kissed her on +the cheek, dropping his hand on Frank's shoulder at the same time with +a hearty greeting. Of course, Frank could have his mount, he said. Mrs. +Armour did not come down, but she sent word by Richard, who entered +last, that she would be glad to see Frank for a moment before he left +for the Park. As of old, Richard took both Lali's hands in his, patted +them, and cheerily said: + +"Well, well, Lali, we've got the wild man home again safe and sound, +haven't we--the same old vagabond? We'll have to turn him into a +Christian again--'For while the lamp holds out to burn'--" + +He did not give her time to reply, but their eyes met honestly, kindly, +and from the look they both passed into life and time again with a fresh +courage. She did not know, nor did he, how near they had been to an +abyss; and neither ever knew. One furtive glance at the moment, one +hesitating pressure of the hand, one movement of the head from each +other's gaze, and there had been unhappiness for them all. But they were +safe. + +In the Park, Frank and his wife talked little. They met many who greeted +them cordially, and numbers of Frank's old club friends summoned him to +the sacred fires at his earliest opportunity. The two talked chiefly of +the people they met, and Frank thrilled with admiration at his wife's +gentle judgment of everybody. + +"The true thing, absolutely the true thing," he said; and he was +conscious, too, that her instincts were right and searching, for once or +twice he saw her face chill a little when they met one or two men whose +reputations as chevaliers des dames were pronounced. These men had had +one or two confusing minutes with Lali in their time. + +"How splendidly you ride!" he said, as he came up swiftly to her, after +having chatted for a moment with Edward Lambert. "You sit like wax, and +so entirely easy." + +"Thank you," she said. "I suppose I really like it too well to +ride badly, and then I began young on horses not so good as Musket +here--bareback, too!" she added, with a little soft irony. + +He thought--she did not, however--that she was referring to that first +letter he sent home to his people, when he consigned her, like any other +awkward freight, to their care. He flushed to his eyes. It cut him deep, +but her eyes only had a distant, dreamy look which conveyed nothing of +the sting in her words. Like most men, he had a touch of vanity too, and +he might have resented the words vaguely, had he not remembered his talk +with his mother an hour before. + +She had begged him to have patience, she had made him promise that he +would not in any circumstance say an ungentle or bitter thing, that he +would bide the effort of constant devotion, and his love of the child. +Especially must he try to reach her through love of the child. + +By which it will be seen that Mrs. Armour had come to some wisdom by +reason of her love for Frank's wife and child. + +"My son," she had said, "through the child is the surest way, believe +me; for only a mother can understand what that means, how much and how +far it goes. You are a father, but until last night you never had the +flush of that love in your veins. You stand yet only at the door of +that life which has done more to guide, save, instruct, and deepen your +wife's life than anything else, though your brother Richard--to whom you +owe a debt that you can never repay--has done much in deed. Be wise, my +dear, as I have learned a little to be since first your wife came. All +might easily have gone wrong. It has all gone well; and we, my son, +have tried to do our duty lovingly, consistently, to dear Lali and the +child." + +She made him promise that he would wait, that he would not try to hurry +his wife's affection for him by any spoken or insistent claim. "For, +Frank dear," she said, "you are only legally married, not morally, not +as God can bless--not yet. But I pray that what will sanctify all may +come soon, very soon, to the joy of us all. But again--and I cannot say +it too prayerfully--do not force one little claim that your marriage +gave you, but prove yourself to her, who has cause to distrust you so +much. Will you forgive your mother, my dear, for speaking to you?" + +He had told her then that what she had asked he had intended as his own +course, yet what she had said would keep it in his mind always, for +he was sure it was right. Mrs. Armour had then embraced him, and they +parted. Dealing with Lali had taught them all much of the human heart +that they had never known before, and the result thereof was wisdom. + +They talked casually enough for the rest of the ride, and before they +parted at the door Frank received his commission for Regent Street, and +accepted it with delight, as a schoolboy might a gift. He was absurdly +grateful for any favours from her, any sign of her companionship. They +met at luncheon; then, because Lali had to keep an engagement in Eaton +Square, they parted again, and Frank and Richard took a walk, after a +long hour with the child, who still so hungered for his sword that Frank +disobeyed orders, and dragged Richard off to Oxford Street to get one. +He was reduced to a beatific attitude of submission, for he knew that +he had few odds with him now, and that he must live by virtue of new +virtues. He was no longer proud of himself in any way, and he knew that +no one else was, or rather he felt so, and that was just the same. + +He talked of the boy, he talked of his wife, he laid plans, he tore them +down, he built them up again, he asked advice, he did not wait to hear +it, but rambled on, excited, eager. Truth is, there had suddenly been +lifted from his mind the dread and shadow of four years. Wherever he had +gone, whatever he had been or done, that dread shadow had followed him, +and now to know that instead of having to endure a hell he had to win +a heaven, and to feel as if his brain had been opened and a mass of +vapours and naughty little mannikins of remorse had been let out, was +a trifle intoxicating even to a man of his usual vigour and early +acquaintance with exciting things. + +"Dick, Dick!" he said enthusiastically, "you've been royal. You always +were better than any chap I ever knew. You're always doing for others. +Hang it, Dick, where does your fun come in? Nobody seems ever to do +anything for you." + +Richard gave his arm a squeeze. "Never mind about me, boy. I've had all +the fun I want, and all I'm likely to get, and so long as you're all +willing to have me around, I'm satisfied. There's always a lot to do +among the people in the village, one way and another, and I've a heap of +reading on, and what more does a fellow want?" + +"You didn't always feel that way, Dick?" + +"No. You see, at different times in life you want different kinds of +pleasures. I've had a good many kinds, and the present kind is about as +satisfactory as any." + +"But, Dick, you ought to get married. You've got coin, you've got sense, +you're a bit distinguished-looking, and I'll back your heart against +a thousand bishops. You've never been in danger of making a fool of +yourself as I have. Why didn't you--why don't you--get married?" + +Richard patted his brother's shoulder. + +"Married, boy? Married? I've got too much on my hands. I've got to bring +you up yet. And when that's done I shall have to write a book called +'How to bring up a Parent.' Then I've got to help bring your boy up, as +I've done these last three years and more. I've got to think of that +boy for a long while yet, for I know him better than you do, and I shall +need some of my coin to carry out my plans." + +"God bless you, Dick! Bring me up as you will, only bring her along too; +and as for the boy, you're far more his father than I am. And mother +says that it's you that's given me the wife I've got now--so what can I +say?--what can I say?" + +It was the middle of the Green Park, and Richard turned and clasped +Frank by both shoulders. + +"Say? Say that you'll stand by the thing you swore to one mad day in the +West as well as any man that ever lived--'to have and to hold, to love +and to cherish from this day forth till death us do part, Amen.'" + +Richard's voice was low and full of a strange, searching something. + +Frank, wondering at this great affection and fondness of his brother, +looked him in the eyes warmly, solemnly, and replied: "For richer or for +poorer, for better or for worse, in sickness and in health--so help me +God, and her kindness and forgiveness!" + + + + +CHAPTER XII. "THE CHASE OF THE YELLOW SWAN" + +Frank and Lali did not meet until dinner was announced. The conversation +at dinner was mainly upon the return to Greyhope, which was fixed for +the following morning, and it was deftly kept gay and superficial by +Marion and Richard and Captain Vidall, until General Armour became +reminiscent, and held the interest of the table through a dozen little +incidents of camp and barrack life until the ladies rose. There had been +an engagement for late in the evening, but it had been given up +because of Frank's home-coming, and there was to be a family gathering +merely--for Captain Vidall was now as much one of the family as Frank or +Richard, by virtue of his approaching marriage with Marion. The men left +alone, General Armour questioned Frank freely about life in the Hudson's +Bay country, and the conversation ran on idly till it was time to join +the ladies. + +When they reached the drawing-room, Marion was seated at the piano, +playing a rhapsody of Raff's, and Mrs. Armour and Lali were seated +side by side. Frank thrilled at seeing his wife's hand in his mother's. +Marion nodded over the piano at the men, and presently played a snatch +of Carmen, then wandered off into the barbaric strength of Tannhauser, +and as suddenly again into the ballet music of Faust. + +"Why so wilful, my girl?" asked her father, who had a keen taste for +music. "Why this tangle? Let us have something definite." + +Marion sprang up from the piano. "I can't. I'm not definite myself +to-night." Then, turning to Lali: "Lali dear, sing something--do! Sing +my favourite, 'The Chase of the Yellow Swan.'" + +This was a song which in the later days at Greyhope, Lali had sung +for Marion, first in her own language, with the few notes of an Indian +chant, and afterwards, by the help of the celebrated musician who had +taught her both music and singing, both of which she had learned but +slowly, it was translated and set to music. Lali looked Marion steadily +in the eyes for a moment and then rose. It cost her something to do this +thing, for while she had often talked much and long with Richard about +that old life, it now seemed as if she were to sing it to one who would +not quite understand why she should sing it at all, or what was her real +attitude towards her past--that she looked upon it from the infinite +distance of affectionate pity, knowledge, and indescribable change, and +yet loved the inspiring atmosphere and mystery of that lonely North, +which once in the veins never leaves it--never. Would he understand that +she was feeling, not the common detail of the lodge and the camp-fire +and the Company's post, but the deep spirit of Nature, filtering through +the senses in a thousand ways--the wild ducks' flight, the sweet smell +of the balsam, the exquisite gallop of the deer, the powder of the +frost, the sun and snow and blue plains of water, the thrilling eternity +of plain and the splendid steps of the hills, which led away by stair +and entresol to the Kimash Hills, the Hills of the Mighty Men? + +She did not know what he would think, and again on second thought she +determined to make him, by this song, contrast her as she was when +he married her, and now--how she herself could look upon that past +unabashed, speak of it without blushing, sing of it with pride, having +reached a point where she could look down and say: "This was the way by +which I came." + +She rose, and was accompanied to the piano by General Armour, Frank +admiring her soft, springing steps, her figure so girlish and lissom. +She paused for a little before she began. Her eyes showed for a moment +over the piano, deep, burning, in-looking; then they veiled; her fingers +touched the keys, wandered over them in a few strange, soft chords, +paused, wandered again, more firmly and very intimately, and then she +sang. Her voice was a good contralto, well balanced, true, of no great +range, but within its compass melodious, and having some inexpressible +charm of temperament. Frank did not need to strain his ears to hear the +words; every one came clear, searching, delicately valued: + + "In the flash of the singing dawn, + At the door of the Great One, + The joy of his lodge knelt down, + Knelt down, and her hair in the sun + Shone like showering dust, + And her eyes were as eyes of the fawn. + And she cried to her lord, + 'O my lord, O my life, + From the desert I come; + From the hills of the Dawn.' + And he lifted the curtain and said, + 'Hast thou seen It, the Yellow Swan?' + + "And she lifted her head, and her eyes + Were as lights in the dark, + And her hands folded slow on her breast, + And her face was as one who has seen + The gods and the place where they dwell; + And she said: 'Is it meet that I kneel, + That I kneel as I speak to my lord?' + And he answered her: 'Nay, but to stand, + And to sit by my side; + But speak, thou hast followed the trail, + Hast thou found It, the Yellow Swan?' + + "And she stood as a queen, and her voice + Was as one who hath seen the Hills, + The Hills of the Mighty Men, + And hath heard them cry in the night, + Hath heard them call in the dawn, + Hath seen It, the Yellow Swan. + And she said: 'It is not for my lord;' + And she murmured, 'I cannot tell, + But my lord must go as I went, + And my lord must come as I came, + And my lord shall be wise.' + + "And he cried in his wrath, + 'What is thine, it is mine, + And thine eyes are my eyes + Thou shalt speak of the Yellow Swan!' + But she answered him: 'Nay, though I die. + I have lain in the nest of the Swan, + I have heard, I have known; + When thine eyes too have seen, + When thine ears too have heard, + Thou shalt do with me then as thou wilt!' + + "And he lifted his hand to strike, + And he straightened his spear to slay, + But a great light struck on his eyes, + And he heard the rushing of wings, + And his long spear fell from his hand, + And a terrible stillness came. + And when the spell passed from his eyes, + He stood in his doorway alone, + And gone was the queen of his soul, + And gone was the Yellow Swan." + +Frank Armour listened as in a dream. The song had the wild swing of +savage life, the deep sweetness of a monotone, but it had also the fine +intelligence, the subtle allusiveness of romance. He could read between +the lines. The allegory touched him where his nerves were sensitive. +Where she had gone he could not go until his eyes had seen and known +what hers had seen and known; he could not grasp his happiness all in +a moment; she was no longer at his feet, but equal with him, and wiser +than he. She had not meant the song to be allusive when she began, but +to speak to him through it by singing the heathen song as his own sister +might sing it. As the song went on, however, she felt the inherent +suggestion in it, so that when she had finished it required all her +strength to get up calmly, come among them again, and listen to their +praises and thanks. She had no particular wish to be alone with Frank +just yet, but the others soon arranged themselves so that the husband +and wife were left in a cosey corner of the room. + +Lali's heart fluttered a little at first, for the day had been trying, +and she was not as strong as she could wish. Admirably as she had gone +through the season, it had worn on her, and her constitution had become +sensitive and delicate, while yet strong. The life had almost refined +her too much. Always on the watch that she should do exactly as Marion +or Mrs. Armour, always so sensitive as to what was required of her, +always preparing for this very time, now that it had come, and her heart +and mind were strong, her body seemed to weaken. Once or twice during +the day she had felt a little faint, but it had passed off, and she +had scolded herself. She did not wish a serious talk with her husband +to-night, but she saw now that it was inevitable. + +He said to her as he sat down beside her: "You sing very well indeed. +The song is full of meaning, and you bring it all out." + +"I am glad you like it," she responded conventionally. "Of course it's +an unusual song for an English drawing-room." + +"As you sing it, it would be beautiful and acceptable anywhere, Lali." + +"Thank you again," she answered, closing and unclosing her fan, her eyes +wandering to where Mrs. Armour was. She wished she could escape, for she +did not feel like talking, and yet though the man was her husband she +could not say that she was too tired to talk; she must be polite. Then, +with a little dainty malice: "It is more interesting, though, in the +vernacular--and costume!" + +"Not unless you sang it so," he answered gallantly, and with a kind of +earnestness. + +"You have not forgotten the way of London men," she rejoined. + +"Perhaps that is well, for I do not know the way of women," he said, +with a faint bitterness. "Yet, I don't speak unadvisedly in this,"--here +he meant to be a little bold and bring the talk to the past,--"for I +heard you sing that song once before." + +She turned on him half puzzled, a little nervous. "Where did you hear me +sing it?" + +He had made up his mind, wisely enough, to speak with much openness and +some tact also, if possible. "It was on the Glow Worm River at the Clip +Claw Hills. I came into your father's camp one evening in the autumn, +hungry and tired and knocked about. I was given the next tent to yours. +It was night, and just before I turned in I heard your voice singing. I +couldn't understand much of the language, but I had the sense of it, and +I know it when I hear it again." + +"Yes, I remember singing it that night," she said. "Next day was the +Feast of the Yellow Swan." + +Her eyes presently became dreamy, and her face took on a distant, rapt +look. She sat looking straight before her for a moment. + +He did not speak, for he interpreted the look aright, and he was going +to be patient, to wait. + +"Tell me of my father," she said. "You have been kind to him?" + +He winced a little. "When I left Fort Charles he was very well," he +said, "and he asked me to tell you to come some day. He also has sent +you a half-dozen silver-fox skins, a sash, and moccasins made by his own +hands. The things are not yet unpacked." + +Moccasins?--She remembered when last she had moccasins on her feet--the +day she rode the horse at the quick-set hedge, and nearly lost her +life. How very distant that all was, and yet how near too! Suddenly she +remembered also why she took that mad ride, and her heart hardened a +little. + +"You have been kind to my father since I left?" she asked. + +He met her eyes steadily. "No, not always; not more than I have been +kind to you. But at the last, yes." Suddenly his voice became intensely +direct and honest. "Lali," he continued, "there is much that I want to +say to you." She waved her hand in a wearied fashion. "I want to tell +you that I would do the hardest penance if I could wipe out these last +four years." + +"Penance?" she said dreamily--"penance? What guarantee of happiness +would that be? One would not wish another to do penance if--" + +She paused. + +"I understand," he said--"if one cared--if one loved. Yes, I understand. +But that does not alter the force or meaning of the wish. I swear to +you that I repent with all my heart--the first wrong to you, the long +absence--the neglect--everything." + +She turned slowly to him. "Everything-Everything?" she repeated after +him. "Do you understand what that means? Do you know a woman's heart? +No. Do you know what a shameful neglect is at the most pitiful time in +your life? No. How can a man know! He has a thousand things--the woman +has nothing, nothing at all except the refuge of home, that for which +she gave up everything!" + +Presently she broke off, and something sprang up and caught her in the +throat. Years of indignation were at work in her. "I have had a home," +she said, in a low, thrilling voice--"a good home; but what did that +cost you? Not one honest sentiment of pity, kindness, or solicitude. You +clothed me, fed me, abandoned me, as--how can one say it? Do I not know, +if coming back you had found me as you expected to find me, what the +result would have been? Do I not know? You would have endured me if I +did not thrust myself upon you, for you have after all a sense of legal +duty, a kind of stubborn honour. But you would have made my life such +that some day one or both of us would have died suddenly. For"--she +looked him with a hot clearness in the eyes--"for there is just so much +that a woman can bear. I wish this talk had not come now, but, since it +has come, it is better to speak plainly. You see, you misunderstand. A +heathen has a heart as another--has a life to be spoiled or made happy +as another. Had there been one honest passion in your treatment of +me--in your marrying me--there would be something on which to base +mutual respect, which is more or less necessary when one is expected to +love. But--but I will not speak more of it, for it chokes me, the insult +to me, not as I was, but as I am. Then it would probably have driven me +mad, if I had known; now it eats into my life like rust." + +He made a motion as if to take her hands, but lifting them away quietly +she said: "You forget that there are others present, as well as the fact +that we can talk better without demonstration." + +He was about to speak, but she stopped him. "No, wait," she said; "for +I want to say a little more. I was only an Indian girl, but you must +remember that I had also in my veins good white blood, Scotch blood. +Perhaps it was that which drew me to you then--for Lali the Indian girl +loved you. Life had been to me pleasant enough--without care, without +misery, open, strong and free; our people were not as those others which +had learned the white man's vices. We loved the hunt, the camp-fires, +the sacred feasts, the legends of the Mighty Men; and the earth was a +good friend, whom we knew as the child knows its mother." + +She paused. Something seemed to arrest her attention. Frank followed her +eyes. She was watching Captain Vidall and Marion. He guessed what she +was thinking--how different her own wooing had been from theirs, how +concerning her courtship she had not one sweet memory--the thing that +keeps alive more love and loyalty in this world than anything else. +Presently General Armour joined them, and Frank's opportunity was over +for the present. + +Captain Vidall and Marion were engaged in a very earnest conversation, +though it might not appear so to observers. + +"Come, now, Marion," he said protestingly, "don't be impossible. Please +give the day a name. Don't you think we've waited about long enough?" + +"There was a man in the Bible who served seven years." + +"I've served over three in India since I met you at the well, and that +counts double. Why so particular to a day? It's a bit Jewish. Anyhow, +that seven years was rough on Rachel." + +"How, Hume? Because she got passee?" + +"Well, that counted; but do you suppose that Jew was going to put in +those seven years without interest? Don't you believe it. Rachel paid +capital and interest back, or Jacob was no Jew. Tell me, Marion, when +shall it be?" + +"Hume, for a man who has trifled away years in India, you are strangely +impatient." + +"Mrs. Lambert says that I have the sweetest disposition." + +"My dear sir!" + +"Don't look at me like that at this distance, or I shall have to wear +goggles, as the man did who went courting the Sun." + +"How supremely ridiculous you are! And I thought you such a sensible, +serious man." + +"Mrs. Lambert put that in your head. We used to meet at the annual +dinners of the Bible Society." + +"Why do you tell me such stuff?" + +"It's a fact. Her father and my aunt were in that swim, and we were +sympathisers." + +"Mercenary people!" + +"It worked very well in her case; not so well in mine. But we conceived +a profound respect for each other then. But tell me, Marion, when is it +to be? Why put off the inevitable?" + +"It isn't inevitable--and I'm only twenty-three." + + "Only twenty-three, + And as good fish in the sea" + +he responded, laughing. "Yes, but you've set the precedent for a +courtship of four years and a bit, and what man could face it?" + +"You did." + +"Yes, but I wasn't advertised of the fact beforehand. Suppose I had seen +the notice at the start: 'This mortgage cannot be raised inside of four +years--and a bit!' There's a limit to human endurance." + +"Why shouldn't I hold to the number, but alter the years to days?" + +"You wouldn't dare. A woman must live up to her reputation." + +"Indeed? What an ambition!" + +"And a man to his manners." + +"An unknown quantity." + +"And a lover to his promises." + +"A book of jokes." Marion had developed a taste for satire. + +"Which reminds me of Lady Halwood and Mrs. Lambert. Lady Halwood was +more impertinent than usual the other day at the Sinclairs' show, and +had a little fling at Mrs. Lambert. The talk turned on gowns. Lady +Halwood was much interested at once. She has a weakness that way. 'Why,' +said she, 'I like these fashions this year, but I'm not sure that they +suit me. They're the same as when the Queen came to the throne.' 'Well,' +said Mrs. Lambert sweetly, 'if they suited you then--' There was an +audible titter, and Mrs. Lambert had an enemy for life." + +"I don't see the point of your story in this connection." + +"No? Well, it was merely to suggest that if you had to live up to this +scheme of four-years' probation, other people besides lovers would make +up books of jokes, and--" + +"That's like a man--to threaten." + +"Yes, I threaten--on my knees." + +"Hume, how long do you think Frank will have to wait?" + +They were sitting where they had a good view of the husband and wife, +and Vidall, after a moment, said: "I don't know. She has waited four +years, too; now it looks as if, like Jacob, she was going to gather in +her shekels of interest compounded." + +"It isn't going to be a bit pleasant to watch." + +"But you won't be here to see." + +Marion ignored the suggestion. "She seems to have hardened since he came +yesterday. I hardly know her; and yet she looks awfully worn to-night, +don't you think?" + +"Yes, as if she had to keep a hand on herself. But it'll come out all +right in the end, you'll see." + +"Yes, of course; but she might be sensible and fall in love with Frank +at once. That's what she did when--" + +"When she didn't know man." + +"Yes, but where would you all be if we women acted on what we know of +you?" + +"On our knees chiefly, as I am. Remember this, Marion, that half a +sinner is better than no man." + +"You mean that no man is better than half a saint?" + +"How you must admire me!" + +"Why?" + +"As you are about to name the day, I assume that I'm a whole saint in +your eyes." + +"St. Augustine!" + +"Who was he?" + +"A man that reformed." + +"Before or after marriage?" + +"Before, I suppose." + +"I don't think he died happy." + +"Why not?" + +"I've a faint recollection that he was boiled." + +"Don't be horrid. What has that to do with it?" + +"Nothing, perhaps. But he probably broke out again after marriage, and +sank at last into that caldron. That's what it means by being-steeped in +crime." + +"How utterly nonsensical you are!" + +"I feel light-headed. You've been at sea, on a yacht becalmed, haven't +you? when along comes a groundswell, and as you rock in the sun there +comes trouble, and your head goes round like a top? Now, that's my case. +I've been becalmed four years, and while I pray for a little wind to +take me--home, you rock me in the trough of uncertainty. Suspense is +very gall and wormwood. You know what the jailer said to the criminal +who was hanging on a reprieve: 'Rope deferred maketh the heart sick.' +Marion, give me the hour, or give me the rope." + +"The rope enough to hang yourself?" + +She suddenly reached up and pulled a hair from her head. She laid it in +his hand-a long brown silken thread. "Hume," she said airily yet gently, +"there is the rope. Can you love me for a month of Sundays?" + +"Yes, for ever and a day!" + +"I will cancel the day, and take your bond for the rest. I will be +generous. I will marry you in two months-and a day." + +"My dearest girl!"--he drew her hand into both of his--"I can't have you +more generous than myself, I'll throw off the month." But his eyes were +shining very seriously, though his mouth smiled. + +"Two months and a day," she repeated. + +"We must all bundle off to Greyhope to-morrow," came General Armour's +voice across the room. "Down comes the baby, cradle and all." + +Lali rose. "I am very tired," she said; "I think I will say good-night." + +"I'll go and see the boy with you," Frank said, rising also. + +Lali turned towards Marion. Marion's face was flushed, and had a sweet, +happy confusion. With a low, trembling good-night to Captain Vidall, +a hurried kiss on her mother's cheek, and a tip-toed caress on her +father's head, she ran and linked her arm in Lali's, and together they +proceeded to the child's room. Richard was there when they arrived, +mending a broken toy. Two hours later, the brothers parted at Frank's +door. + +"Reaping the whirlwind, Dick?" Frank said, dropping his hand on his +brother's arm. + +Richard pointed to the child's room. + +"Nonsense! Do you want all the world at once? You are reaping the +forgiveness of your sins." Somehow Richard's voice was a little stern. + +"I was thinking of my devilry, Dick. That's the whirlwind--here!" His +hand dropped on his breast. + +"That's where it ought to be. Good-night." + +"Good-night." + + + + +CHAPTER XIII. A LIVING POEM + + +Part of Frank's most trying interview, next to the meeting with his +wife, was that with Mackenzie, who had been his special commissioner in +the movement of his masquerade. Mackenzie also had learned a great deal +since she had brought Lali--home. She, like others, had come to care +truly for the sweet barbarian, and served her with a grim kind of +reverence. Just in proportion as this had increased, her respect for +Frank had decreased. No man can keep a front of dignity in the face of +an unbecoming action. However, Mackenzie had her moment, and when it +was over, the new life began at no general disadvantage to Frank. To all +save the immediate family Frank and Lali were a companionable husband +and wife. She rode with him, occasionally walked with him, now and again +sang to him, and they appeared in the streets of St. Albans and at the +Abbey together, and oftener still in the village church near, where the +Armours of many generations were proclaimed of much account in the solid +virtues of tomb and tablet. + +The day had gone by when Lali attracted any especial notice among the +villagers, and she enjoyed the quiet beauty and earnestness of the +service. But she received a shock one Sunday. She had been nervous all +the week, she could not tell why, and others remarked how her face had +taken on a new sensitiveness, a delicate anxiety, and that her strength +was not what it had been. As, for instance, after riding she required to +rest, a thing before unknown, and she often lay down for an hour before +dinner. Then, too, at table once she grew suddenly pale and swayed +against Edward Lambert, who was sitting next to her. She would +not, however, leave the table, but sat the dinner out, to Frank's +apprehension. He was devoted, but it was clear to Marion and her mother +at least that his attentions were trying to her. They seemed to put her +under an obligation which to meet was a trial. There is nothing more +wearing to a woman than affectionate attentions from a man who has +claims upon her, but whom she does not love. These same attentions from +one who has no claims give her a thrill of pleasure. It is useless to +ask for justice in such a matter. These things are governed by no +law; and rightly so, else the world would be in good time a loveless +multitude, held together only by the hungering ties of parent and child. + +But this Sunday wherein Lali received a shock. She did not know that the +banns for Marion's and Captain Vidall's marriage were to be announced, +and at the time her thoughts were far away. She was recalled to herself +by the clergyman's voice pronouncing their names, and saying: "If any of +you do know cause or just impediment why these two people should not be +joined together in the bonds of holy matrimony, ye are to declare it." +All at once there came back to her her own marriage when the Protestant +missionary, in his nasal monotone, mumbled these very words, not as if +he expected that any human being would, or could, offer objection. + +She almost sprang from her seat now. Her nerves all at once came to such +a tension that she could have cried out. Why had there been no one there +at her marriage to say: "I forbid it"? How shameful it had all been! And +the first kiss her husband had given her had the flavour of brandy! +If she could but turn back the hands upon the clock of Time! Under the +influence of the music and the excited condition of her nerves, the +event became magnified, distorted; it burned into her brain. It was +not made less poignant by the sermon from the text: "Mene, Mene, Tekel, +Upharsin." When the words were first announced in the original, it +sounded like her own language, save that it was softer, and her heart +throbbed fast. Then came the interpretation: "Thou art weighed in the +balance and found wanting." + +Then suddenly swept over her a new feeling, one she had never felt +before. Up to this point a determination to justify her child, to +reverse the verdict of the world, to turn her husband's sin upon +himself, had made her defiant, even bitter; in all things eager to +live up to her new life, to the standard that Richard had by manner and +suggestion, rather than by words, laid down for her. But now there +came in upon her a flood of despair. At best she was only of this race +through one-third of her parentage, and education and refinement and all +things could do no more than make her possible. There must always be in +the record: "She was of a strange people. She was born in a wigwam." She +did not know that failing health was really the cause of this lapse of +self-confidence, this growing self-depreciation, this languor for which +she could not account. She found that she could not toss the child and +frolic with it as she had done; she was conscious that within a month +there had stolen upon her the desire to be much alone, to avoid noises +and bustle--it irritated her. She found herself thinking more and more +of her father, her father to whom she had never written one line +since she had left the North. She had had good reasons for not +writing--writing could do no good whatever, particularly to a man who +could not read, and who would not have understood her new life if he +had read. Yet now she seemed not to know why she had not written, and to +blame herself for neglect and forgetfulness. It weighed on her. Why had +she ever been taken from the place of tamarack-trees and the sweeping +prairie grass? No, no, she was not, after all, fit for this life. She +had been mistaken, and Richard had been mistaken--Richard, who was +so wise. The London season? Ah! that was because people had found a +novelty, and herself of better manners than had been expected. + +The house was now full of preparations for the wedding. It stared her in +the face every day, almost every hour. Dressmakers, milliners, tailors, +and all those other necessary people. Did the others think what all this +meant to her? It was impossible that they should. When Marion came back +from town at night and told of her trials among the dressmakers, when +she asked the general opinion and sometimes individual judgment, she +could not know that it was at the expense of Lali's nerves. + +Lali, when she married, had changed her moccasins, combed her hair, and +put on a fine red belt, and that was all. She was not envious now, not +at all. But somehow it all was a deadly kind of evidence against herself +and her marriage. Her reproach was public, the world knew it, and no +woman can forgive a public shame, even was it brought about by a man she +loved, or loves. Her chiefest property in life is her self-esteem and +her name before the world. Rob her of these, and her heaven has fallen, +and if a man has shifted the foundations of her peace, there is no +forgiveness for him till her Paradise has been reconquered. So busy were +all the others that they did not see how her strength was failing. There +were three weeks between the day the banns were announced and the day of +the wedding, which was to be in the village church, not in town; for, as +Marion said, she had seen too many marriages for one day's triumph and +criticism; she wanted hers where there would be neither triumph nor +criticism, but among people who had known her from her childhood up. A +happy romance had raised Marion's point of view. + +Meanwhile Frank was winning the confidence of his own child, who, +however, ranked Richard higher always, and became to a degree his +father's tyrant. But Frank's nature was undergoing a change. His point +of view also had enlarged. The suffering, bitterness, and humiliation +of his life in the North had done him good. He was being disciplined +to take his position as a husband and father, but he sometimes grew +heavy-hearted when he saw how his attentions oppressed his wife, and had +it not been for Richard he might probably have brought on disaster, for +the position was trying to all concerned. A few days before the wedding +Edward Lambert and his wife arrived, and he, Captain Vidall, and Frank +Armour took rides and walks together, or set the world right in the +billiard-room. Richard seldom joined them, though their efforts to +induce him to do so were many. He had his pensioners, his books, his +pipe, and "the boy," and he had returned in all respects, in so far as +could be seen, to his old life, save for the new and larger interest of +his nephew. + +One evening the three men with General Armour were all gathered in the +billiard-room. Conversation had been general and without particular +force, as it always is when merely civic or political matters are under +view. But some one gave a social twist to the talk, and presently they +were launched upon that sea where every man provides his own chart, or +he is a very worm and no man. Each man had been differently trained, +each viewed life from a different stand-point, and yet each had been +brought up in the same social atmosphere, in the same social sets, had +imbibed the same traditions, been moved generally by the same public +considerations. + +"But there's little to be said for a man who doesn't, outwardly at +least, live up to the social necessity," said Lambert. + +"And keep the Ten Commandments in the vulgar tongue," rejoined Vidall. + +"I've lived seventy-odd years, and I've knocked about a good deal in +my time," said the general, "but I've never found that you could make +a breach of social necessity, as you call it, without paying for it one +way or another. The trouble with us when we're young is that we want to +get more out of life than there really is in it. There is not much in +it, after all. You can stand just so much fighting, just so much work, +just so much emotion--and you can stand less emotion than anything else. +I'm sure more men and women break up from a hydrostatic pressure of +emotion than from anything else. Upon my soul, that's so." + +"You are right, General," said Lambert. "The steady way is the best +way. The world is a passable place, if a fellow has a decent income by +inheritance, or can earn a big one, but to be really contented to earn +money it must be a big one, otherwise he is far better pleased to take +the small inherited income. It has a lot of dignity, which the other can +only bring when it is large." + +"That's only true in this country; it's not true in America," said +Frank, "for there the man who doesn't earn money is looked upon as a +muff, and is treated as such. A small inherited income is thought to be +a trifle enervating. But there is a country of emotions, if you like. +The American heart is worn upon the American sleeve, and the American +mind is the most active thing in this world. That's why they grow old so +young." + +"I met a woman a year or so ago at dinner," said Vidall, "who looked +forty. She looked it, and she acted it. She was younger than any woman +present, but she seemed older. There was a kind of hopeless languor +about her which struck me as pathetic. Yet she had been beautiful, and +might even have been so when I saw her, if it hadn't been for that +look. It was the look of a person who had no interest in things. And the +person who has no interest in things is the person who once had a great +deal of interest in things, who had too passionate an interest. The +revulsion is always terrible. Too much romance is deadly. It is as false +a stimulant as opium or alcohol, and leaves a corresponding mark. Well, +I heard her history. She was married at fifteen--ran away to be married; +and in spite of the fact that a railway accident nearly took her husband +from her on the night of her marriage--one would have thought that would +make a strong bond--she was soon alive to the attentions that are given +a pretty and--considerate woman. At a ball at Naples, her husband, +having in vain tried to induce her to go home, picked her up under his +arm and carried her out of the ballroom. Then came a couple of years of +opium-eating, fierce social excitement, divorce, new marriage, and so +on, until her husband agreeably decided to live in Nice, while she lived +somewhere else. Four days after I had met her at the dinner I saw +her again. I could scarcely believe my eyes. The woman had changed +completely. She was young again-twenty-five, in face and carriage, in +the eye and hand, in step and voice." + +"Who was the man?" suggested Frank Armour. "A man about her own age, +or a little more, but who was an infant beside her in knowledge of the +world." "She was in love with the fellow? It was a grande passion?" +asked Lambert. + +"In love with him? No, not at all. It was a momentary revival of an +old-possibility." + +"You mean that such women never really love?" + +"Perhaps once, Frank, but only after a fashion. The rest was mere +imitation of their first impulses." + +"And this woman?" + +"Well, the end came sooner than I expected. I tell you I was shocked at +the look in her face when I saw it again. That light had flickered out; +the sensitive alertness of hand, eye, voice, and carriage had died away; +lines had settled in the face, and the face itself had gone cold, with +that hard, cold passiveness which comes from exhausted emotions and a +closed heart. The jewels she wore might have been put upon a statue with +equal effect." + +"It seems to me that we might pitch into men in these things and not +make women the dreadful examples," said a voice from the corner. It was +the voice of Richard, who had but just entered. + +"My dear Dick," said his father, "men don't make such frightful +examples, because these things mean less to men than they do to women. +Romance is an incident to a man; he can even come through an affaire +with no ideals gone, with his mental fineness unimpaired; but it is +different with a woman. She has more emotion than mind, else there were +no cradles in the land. Her standards are set by the rules of the heart, +and when she has broken these rules she has lost her standard too. But +to come back, it is true, I think, as I said, that man or woman must +not expect too much out of life, but be satisfied with what they can get +within the normal courses of society and convention and home, and the +end thereof is peace--yes, upon my soul, it's peace." + +There was something very fine in the blunt, honest words of the old man, +whose name had ever been sweet with honour. + +"And the chief thing is that a man live up to his own standard," said +Lambert. "Isn't that so, Dick?--you're the wise man." + +"Every man should have laws of his own, I should think; commandments of +his own, for every man has a different set of circumstances wherein to +work--or worry." + +"The wisest man I ever knew," said Frank, dropping his cigar, "was a +little French-Canadian trapper up in the Saskatchewan country. A priest +asked him one day what was the best thing in life, and he answered: 'For +a young man's mind to be old, and an old man's heart to be young.' The +priest asked him how that could be. And he said: 'Good food, a good +woman to teach him when he is young, and a child to teach him when he is +old.' Then the priest said: 'What about the Church and the love of +God?' The little man thought a little, and then said: 'Well, it is the +same--the love of man and woman came first in the world, then the child, +then God in the garden.' Afterwards he made a little speech of good-bye +to us, for we were going to the south while he remained in a fork of the +Far Off River. It was like some ancient blessing: that we should always +have a safe tent and no sorrow as we travelled; that we should always +have a cache for our food, and food for our cache; that we should never +find a tree that would not give sap, nor a field that would not grow +grain; that our bees should not freeze in winter, and that the honey +should be thick, and the comb break like snow in the teeth; that we keep +hearts like the morning, and that we come slow to the Four Corners where +man says Good-night." + +Each of the other men present wondered at that instant if Frank Armour +would, or could, have said this with the same feelings two months +before. He seemed almost transformed. + +"It reminds me," said the general, "of an inscription from an Egyptian +monument which an officer of the First put into English verse for me +years ago: + + "Fair be the garden where their loves shall dwell, + Safe be the highway where their feet may go, + Rich be the fields wherein their hands may toil, + The fountains many where their good wines flow. + Full be their harvest-bins with corn and oil, + To sorrow may their humour be a foil; + Quick be their hearts all wise delights to know, + Tardy their footsteps to the gate Farewell." + +There was a moment's silence after he had finished, and then there was +noise without, a sound of pattering feet; the door flew open, and in ran +a little figure in white--young Richard in his bed-gown, who had broken +away from his nurse, and had made his way to the billiard-room, where he +knew his uncle had gone. + +The child's face was flashing with mischief and adventure. He ran in +among the group, and stretched out his hands with a little fighting air. +His uncle Richard made a step towards him, but he ran back; his father +made as if to take him in his arms, but he evaded him. Presently the +door opened, the nurse entered, the child sprang from among the group, +and ran with a laughing defiance to the farthest end of the room, and, +leaning his chin on the billiard-table, flashed a look of defiant humour +at his pursuer. Presently the door opened again, and the figure of +the mother appeared. All at once the child's face altered; he stood +perfectly still, and waited for his mother to come to him. Lali had not +spoken, and she did not speak until, lifting the child, she came the +length of the billiard-table and faced them. + +"I beg your pardon," she said, "for intruding; but Richard has led us a +dance, and I suppose the mother may go where her child goes." + +"The mother and the child are always welcome wherever they go," said +General Armour quietly. + +All the men had risen to their feet, and they made a kind of semicircle +before her. The white-robed child had clasped its arms about her neck, +and nestled its face against hers, as if, with perfect satisfaction, it +had got to the end of its adventure; but the look of humour was still in +the eyes as they ran from Richard to his father and back again. + +Frank Armour stepped forwards and took the child's hand, as it rested +on the mother's shoulder. Lali's face underwent a slight change as her +husband's fingers touched her neck. + +"I must go," she said. "I hope I have not broken up a serious +conversation--or were you not so serious after all?" she said, glancing +archly at General Armour. "We were talking of women," said Lambert. + +"The subject is wide," replied Lali, "and the speakers many. One would +think some wisdom might be got in such a case." + +"Believe me, we were not trying to understand the subject," said Captain +Vidall; "the most that a mere man can do is to appreciate it." + +"There are some things that are hidden from the struggling mind of man, +and are revealed unto babes and the mothers of babes," said General +Armour gravely, as, reaching out his hands, he took the child from the +mother's arms, kissed it full upon the lips, and added: "Men do not +understand women, because men's minds have not been trained in the same +school. When once a man has mastered the very alphabet of motherhood, +then he shall have mastered the mind of woman; but I, at least, +refuse to say that I do not understand, from the stand-point of modern +cynicism." + +"Ah, General, General!" said Lambert, "we have lost the chivalric way of +saying things, which belongs to your generation." + +By this time the wife had reached the door. She turned and held out her +arms for the child. General Armour came and placed the boy where he +had found it, and, with eyes suddenly filling, laid both his hands upon +Lali's and they clasped the child, and said: "It is worth while to have +lived so long and to have seen so much." Her eyes met his in a wistful, +anxious expression, shifted to those of her husband, dropped to the +cheeks of the child, and with the whispered word, which no one, not even +the general, heard, she passed from the room, the nurse following her. + +Perhaps some of the most striking contrasts are achieved in the least +melodramatic way. The sudden incursion of the child and its mother +into the group, the effect of their presence, and their soft departure, +leaving behind them, as it were, a trail of light, changed the whole +atmosphere of the room, as though some new life had been breathed into +it, charged each mind with new sensations, and gave each figure new +attitude. Not a man present but had had his full swing with the world, +none worse than most men, none better than most, save that each had +latent in him a good sense of honour concerning all civic and domestic +virtues. They were not men of sentimentality; they were not accustomed +to exposing their hearts upon their sleeve, but each, as the door +closed, recognised that something for one instant had come in among +them, had made their past conversation to appear meagre, crude, and +lacking in both height and depth. Somehow, they seemed to feel, although +no words expressed the thought, that for an instant they were in the +presence of a wisdom greater than any wisdom of a man's smoking-room. + +"It is wonderful, wonderful," said the general slowly, and no man asked +him why he said it, or what was wonderful. But Richard, sitting apart, +watched Frank's face acutely, himself wondering when the hour would come +that the wife would forgive her husband, and this situation so fraught +with danger would be relieved. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV. ON THE EDGE OF A FUTURE + +At last the day of the wedding came, a beautiful September day, which +may be more beautiful in uncertain England than anywhere else. Lali +had been strangely quiet all the day before, and she had also seemed +strangely delicate. Perhaps, or perhaps not, she felt the crisis was +approaching. It is probable that when the mind has been strained for +a long time, and the heart and body suffered much, one sees a calamity +vaguely, and cannot define it; appreciates it, and does not know it. She +came to Marion's room about a half-hour before they were to start for +the church. Marion was already dressed and ready, save for the few final +touches, which, though they have been given a dozen times, must still +again be given just before the bride starts for the church. Such is the +anxious mind of women on these occasions. The two stood and looked at +each other a moment, each wondering what were the thoughts of the other. +Lali was struck by that high, proud look over which lay a glamour of +infinite satisfaction, of sweetness, which comes to every good woman's +face when she goes to the altar in a marriage which is not contingent +on the rise or fall in stocks, or a satisfactory settlement. Marion, +looking, saw, as if it had been revealed to her all at once, the intense +and miraculous change which had come over the young wife, even within +the past two months. Indeed, she had changed as much within that time as +within all the previous four years--that is, she had been brought to a +certain point in her education and experience, where without a newer +and deeper influence she could go no further. That newer and deeper +influence had come, and the result thereof was a woman standing upon the +verge of the real tragedy to her life, which was not in having married +the man, but in facing that marriage with her new intelligence and +a transformed soul. Men can face that sort of thing with a kind of +philosophy, not because men are better or wiser, but because it +really means less to them. They have resources of life, they can bury +themselves in their ambitions good or bad, but a woman can only bury +herself in her affections, unless her heart has been closed; and in that +case she herself has lost much of what made her adorable. And while she +may go on with the closed heart and become a saint, even saintship is +hardly sufficient to compensate any man or woman for a half-lived life. +The only thing worth doing in this world is to live life according +to one's convictions--and one's heart. He or she who sells that fine +independence for a mess of pottage, no matter if the mess be spiced, +sells, as the Master said, the immortal part of him. + +And so Lali, just here on the edge of Marion's future, looking into that +mirror, was catching the reflection of her own life. When two women come +so near that, like the lovers in the Tempest, they have changed eyes, in +so far as to read each other's hearts, even indifferently, which is much +where two women are concerned, there is only one resource, and that is +to fall into each other's arms, and to weep if it be convenient, or to +hold their tears for a more fitting occasion; and most people will admit +that tears need not add to a bride's beauty. + +Marion might, therefore, be pardoned if she had her tears in her throat +and not in her eyes, and Lali, if they arose for a moment no higher than +her heart. But they did fall into each other's arms despite veils and +orange blossoms, and somehow Marion had the feeling for Lali that she +had on that first day at Greyhope, four years ago, when standing on +the bridge, the girl looked down into the water, tears dropping on her +hands, and Marion said to her: "Poor girl! poor girl!" The situations +were the same, because Lali had come to a new phase of her life, and +what that phase would be who could tell-happiness or despair? + +The usual person might think that Lali was placing herself and her +wifely affection at a rather high price, but then it is about the only +thing that a woman can place high, even though she be one-third a white +woman and two-thirds an Indian. Here was a beautiful woman, who had +run the gamut of a London season, who had played a pretty social part, +admirably trained therefor by one of the best and most cultured families +of England. Besides, why should any woman sell her affections even to +her husband, bargain away her love, the one thing that sanctifies "what +God hath joined let no man put asunder"? Lali was primitive, she was +unlike so many in a trivial world, but she was right. She might suffer, +she might die, but, after all, there are many things worse than that. +Man is born in a day, and he dies in a day, and the thing is easily +over; but to have a sick heart for three-fourths of one's lifetime is +simply to have death renewed every morning; and life at that price is +not worth living. In this sensitive age we are desperately anxious to +save life, as if it was the really great thing in the world; but in +the good, strong times of the earth--and in these times, indeed, when +necessity knows its hour--men held their lives as lightly as a bird upon +the housetop which any chance stone might drop. + +It is possible that at this moment the two women understood each other +better than they had ever done, and respected each other more. Lali, +recovering herself, spoke a few soft words of congratulation, and then +appeared to busy herself in putting little touches to Marion's dress, +that soft persuasion of fingers which does so much to coax mere cloth +into a sort of living harmony with the body. + +They had no more words of confidence, but in the porch of the church, +Marion, as she passed Lali, caught the slender fingers in her own and +pressed them tenderly. Marion was giving comfort, and yet if she had +been asked why she could not have told. She did not try to define it +further than to say to herself that she herself was having almost too +much happiness. The village was en fete, and peasants lined the street +leading to the church, ready with their hearty God-bless-you's. Lali sat +between her husband and Mrs. Armour, apparently impassive until there +came the question: "Who giveth this woman to be married to this man?" +and General Armour's voice came clear and strong: "I do." Then a soft +little cry broke from her, and she shivered slightly. Mrs. Armour did +not notice, but Frank and Mrs. Lambert heard and saw, and both were +afterwards watchful and solicitous. Frank caught Mrs. Lambert's eye, and +it said, to a little motion of the head: "Do not appear to notice." + +Lali was as if in a dream. She never took her eyes from the group at the +altar until the end, and the two, now man and wife, turned to go into +the vestry. Then she appeared to sink away into herself for a moment, +before she fell into conversation with the others, as they moved towards +the vestry. + +"It was beautiful, wasn't it?" ventured Edward Lambert. + +"The most beautiful wedding I ever saw," she answered, with a little +shadow of meaning; and Lambert guessed that it was the only one she had +seen since she came to England. + +"How well Vidall looked," said Frank, "and as proud as a sultan. Did you +hear what he said, as Marion came up the aisle?" + +"No," responded Lambert. + +"He said, 'By Jove, isn't she fine!' He didn't seem conscious that other +people were present." + +"Well, if a man hasn't some inspirations on his wedding-day when is he +to have them?" said Mrs. Lambert. "For my part, I think that the woman +always does that sort of thing better than a man. It is her really great +occasion, and she masters it--the comedy is all hers." They were just +then entering the vestry. + +"Or the tragedy, as the case may be," said Lali quietly, smiling at +Marion. She had, as it were, recovered herself, and her words had come +with that airy, impersonal tone which permits nothing of what is said in +it to be taken seriously. Something said by the others had recalled her +to herself, and she was now returned very suddenly to the old position +of alertness and social finesse. Something icy seemed to pass over her, +and she immediately lost all self-consciousness, and began to speak to +her husband with less reserve than she had shown since he had come. But +he was not deceived. He saw that at that very instant she was further +away from him than she had ever been. He sighed, in spite of himself, as +Lali, with well-turned words, said some loving greetings to Marion, and +then talked a moment with Captain Vidall. + +"Who can understand a woman?" said Lambert to his wife meaningly. + +"Whoever will," she answered. "How do you mean?" + +"Whoever will wait like the saint upon the pillar, will suffer like the +traveller in the desert; serve like a slave, and demand like a king; +have patience greater than Job; love ceaseless as a fountain in +the hills; who sees in the darkness and is not afraid of light; who +distrusts not, neither believes, but stands ready to be taught; who +is prepared for a kiss this hour and a reproach the next; who turneth +neither to right nor left at her words, but hath an unswerving +eye--these shall understand a woman." + +"I never knew you so philosophical. Where did you get this deliverance +on the subject?" + +"May not even a woman have a moment of inspiration?" + +"I should expect that of my wife." + +"And I should expect that of my husband. It is trite to say that men are +vain; I shall remark that they sit so much in their own light that they +are surprised if another being crosses their disc." + +"You always were clever, my dear, and you always were twice too good for +me." + +"Well, every woman--worth the knowing--is a missionary." + +"Where does Lali come in?" + +"Can you ask? To justify the claims of womanhood in spite of race--and +all." + +"To bring one man to a sense of the duty of sex to sex, eh?" + +"Truly. And is she not doing it well? See her now." They were now just +leaving the church, and Lali had taken General Armour's arm, while +Richard led his mother to the carriage. + +Lali was moving with a little touch of grandeur in her manner and a more +than ordinary deliberation. She had had a moment of great weakness, and +then there had come the reaction--carried almost too far by the force +of the will. She was indeed straining herself too far. Four years of +tension were culminating. + +"See her now, Edward," repeated Mrs. Lambert. "Yes, but if I'm not +mistaken, my dear, she is doing so well that she's going to pieces. +She's overstrung to-day. If it were you, you'd be in hysterics." + +"I believe you are right," was the grave reply. "There will be an end to +this comedy one way or another very soon." + +A moment afterwards they were in a carriage rolling away to Greyhope. + + + + +CHAPTER XV. THE END OF THE TRAIL + +When Marion was about leaving with her husband for the railway station, +she sought out Lali, and found her standing half hidden by the curtains +of a window, looking out at little Richard, who was parading his pony +up and down before the house. An unutterable sweetness looked out of +Marion's eyes. She had found, as it seemed to her, and as so many have +believed until their lives' end, the secret of existence. Lali saw the +glistening joy, and responded to it, just as it was in her being to +respond to every change of nature--that sensitiveness was in her as deep +as being. + +"You are very happy, dear?" she said to Marion. "You cannot think how +happy, Lali. And I want to say that I feel sure that you will yet be as +happy, even happier than I. Oh, it will come--it will come. And you have +the boy now-so fine, so good." + +Lali looked out to where little Richard disported himself; her eyes +shone, and she turned with a responsive but still sad smile to Marion. +"Marion," she said gently, "the other should have come before he came." +"Frank loves you, Lali." + +"Who knows? And then, oh, I cannot tell! How can one force one's heart? +No, no! One has to wait, and wait, even if the heart grows harder, and +one gets hopeless." + +Marion kissed her on the cheek and smiled. "Some day soon the heart will +open up, and then such a flood will pour out! See, Lali. I am going now, +and our lives won't run together so much again ever, perhaps. But I +want to tell you now that your coming to us has done me a world of +good--helped me to be a wiser girl; and I ought to be a better woman for +it. Good-bye." + +They were calling to her, and with a hurried embrace the two parted, and +in a few moments the bride and bridegroom were on their way to the new +life. As the carriage disappeared in a turn of the limes, Lali vanished +also to her room. She was not seen at dinner. Mackenzie came to say that +she was not very well, and that she would keep to her room. Frank sent +several times during the evening to inquire after her, and was told that +she was resting comfortably. He did not try to see her, and in this was +wise. He had now fallen into a habit of delicate consideration, which +brought its own reward. He had given up hope of winning her heart +or confidence by storm, and had followed his finer and better +instincts--had come to the point where he made no claims, and even in +his own mind stood upon no rights. His mother brought him word from Lali +before he retired, to say that she was sorry she could not see him, but +giving him a message and a commission into town the following morning +for their son. Her tact had grown is her strength had declined. There is +something in failing health--ill-health without disease--which +sharpens and refines the faculties, and makes the temper exquisitely +sensitive--that is, with people of a certain good sort. The aplomb +and spirited manner in which Lali had borne herself at the wedding and +after, was the last flicker of her old strength, and of the second phase +in her married life. The end of the first phase came with the ride at +the quick-set hedge, this with a less intent but as active a temper. + +The next morning she did not appear at breakfast, but sent a message +to Frank to say that she was better, and adding another commission for +town. All day, save for an hour on the balcony, she kept to her room, +and lay down for the greater part of the afternoon. In the evening, when +Frank returned, his mother sent for him, and frankly told him that she +thought it would be better for him to go away for a few weeks or so; +that Lali was in a languid, nervous state, and she thought that by the +time he got back--if he would go--she would be better, and that better +things would come for him. + +Frank was no longer the vain, selfish fellow who had married +Lali--something of the best in him was at work. He understood, and +suggested a couple of weeks with Richard at their little place in +Scotland. Also, he saw his wife for a little while that evening. She +had been lying down, but she disposed herself in a deep chair before +he entered. He was a little shocked to see, as it were all at once, +how delicate she looked. He came and sat down near her, and after a few +moments of friendly talk, in which he spoke solicitously of her health, +he told her that he thought of going up to Scotland with Richard for a +few weeks, if she saw no objection. + +She did not quite understand why he was going. She thought that perhaps +he felt the strain of the situation, and that a little absence would be +good for both. This pleased her. She did not shrink, as she had so often +done since his return, when he laid his hand on hers for an instant, +as he asked her if she were willing that he should go. Sometimes in the +past few weeks she had almost hated him. Now she was a little sorry for +him, but she said that of course he must go; that no doubt it was good +that he should go, and so on, in gentle, allusive phrases. The next +evening she came down to dinner, and was more like herself as she was +before Frank came back, but she ate little, and before the men came into +the drawing-room she had excused herself, and retired; at which Mrs. +Lambert shook her head apprehensively at herself, and made up her mind +to stay at Greyhope longer than she intended. + +Which was good for all concerned; for, two nights after Frank and +Richard had gone, Mackenzie hurried down to the drawing-room with the +news that Lali had been found in a faint on her chamber floor. That was +the beginning of weeks of anxiety, in which Mrs. Lambert was to Mrs. +Armour what Marion would have been, and more; and both to Lali all that +mother and sister could be. + +Their patient was unlike any other that they had known. Feverish, she +had no fever; with a gentle, hacking cough, she had no lung trouble; +nervous, she still was oblivious to very much that went on around her; +hungering often for her child, she would not let him remain long with +her when he came. Her sleep was broken, and she sometimes talked to +herself, whether consciously or unconsciously they did not know. The +doctor had no remedies but tonics--he did not understand the case; but +he gently ventured the opinion that it was mostly a matter of race, that +she was pining because civilisation had been infused into her veins--the +old insufficient theory. + +"Stuff and nonsense!" said General Armour, when his wife told him. "The +girl bloomed till Frank came back. God bless my soul! she's falling in +love, and doesn't know what it is." + +He was only partly right, perhaps, but he was nearer the truth than the +dealer in quinine and a cheap philosophy of life. "She'll come around +all right, you'll see. Decline--decline be hanged! The girl shall +live,--damn it, she shall!" he blurted out, as his wife's eyes filled +with tears. + +Mrs. Lambert was much of the same mind as the general, but went further. +She said to Mrs. Armour that in all her life she had never seen so sweet +a character, so sensitive a mind--a mind whose sorrow was imagination. +And therein the little lady showed herself a person of wisdom. For +none of them had yet reckoned with that one great element in Lali's +character--that thing which is the birthright of all who own the North +for a mother, the awe of imagination, the awe and the pain, which in +its finest expression comes near, very near, to the supernatural. Lali's +mind was all pictures; she never thought of things in words, she saw +them; and everything in her life arrayed itself in a scene before her, +made vivid by her sensitive soul, so much more sensitive now with health +failing, the spirit wearing out the body. There was her malady--the sick +heart and mind. + +A new sickness wore upon her. It had not touched her from the day she +left the North until she sang "The Chase of the Yellow Swan" that first +evening after Frank's return. Ever since then her father was much in her +mind--the memory of her childhood, and its sweet, inspiring friendship +with Nature. All the roughness and coarseness of the life was refined +in her memory by the exquisite atmosphere of the North, the good sweet +earth, the strong bracing wind, the camaraderie of trees and streams +and grass and animals. And in it all stood her father, whom she had left +alone, in that interminable interval between the old life and the new. + +Had she done right? She had cut him off, as if he had never been--her +people, her country also; and for what? For this--for this sinking +sense, this failing body, this wear and tear of mind and heart, this +constant study to be possible where she had once been declared by the +world to be impossible. + +One night she lay sleeping after a rather feverish day, when it was +thought best to keep the child from her. Suddenly she waked, and sat up. +Looking straight before her, she said: + +"I will arise, and will go to my Father, and will say unto Him, Father, +I have sinned against heaven and before Thee, and am no more worthy to +be called Thy son." + +She said nothing more than this, and presently lay back, with eyes wide +open, gazing before her. Like this she lay all night long, a strange, +aching look in her face. There had come upon her the sudden impulse to +leave it all, and go back to her father. But the child--that gave her +pause. Towards morning she fell asleep, and slept far on into the day, a +thing that had not occurred for a long time. + +At noon a letter arrived for her. It came into General Armour's hands, +and he, seeing that it bore the stamp of the Hudson's Bay Company, with +the legend, From Fort St. Charles, concluded that it was news of Lali's +father. Then came the question whether the letter should be given to +her. The general was for doing so, and he prevailed. If it were bad +news, he said, it might raise her out of her present apathy and by +changing the play of her emotions do her good in the end. + +The letter was given to her in the afternoon. She took it apathetically, +but presently, seeing where it was from, she opened it hurriedly with a +little cry which was very like a moan too. There were two letters inside +one from the factor at Fort Charles in English, and one from her father +in the Indian language. She read her father's letter first, the other +fluttered to her feet from her lap. General Armour, looking down, saw a +sentence in it which, he felt, warranted him in picking it up, reading +it, and retaining it, his face settling into painful lines as he did so. +Days afterwards, Lali read her father's letter to Mrs. Armour. It ran: + + My daughter, + + Lali, the sweet noise of the Spring: + + Thy father speaks. + + I have seen more than half a hundred moons come like the sickle and + go like the eye of a running buck, swelling with fire, but I hear + not thy voice at my tent door since the first one came and went. + + Thou art gone. + + Thy face was like the sun on running water; thy hand hung on thy + wrists like the ear of a young deer; thy foot was as soft on the + grass as the rain on a child's cheek; thy words were like snow in + summer, which melts in richness on the hot earth. Thy bow and arrow + hang lonely upon the wall, and thy empty cup is beside the pot. + + Thou art gone. + + Thou hast become great with a great race, and that is well. Our + race is not great, and shall not be, until the hour when the Mighty + Men of the Kimash Hills arise from their sleep and possess the land + again. + + Thou art gone. + + But thou hast seen many worlds, and thou hast learned great things, + and thou and I shall meet no more; for how shall the wise kneel at + the feet of the foolish, as thou didst kneel once at thy father's + feet? + + Thou art gone. + + High on the Clip Claw Hills the trees are green, in the Plain of the + Rolling Stars the wings of the wild fowl are many, and fine is the + mist upon Goldfly Lake; and the heart of Eye-of-the-Moon is strong. + + Thou art here. + + The trail is open to the White Valley, and the Scarlet Hunter hath + saved me, when my feet strayed in the plains and my eyes were + blinded. + + Thou art here. + + I have friends on the Far Off River who show me the yards where the + musk-ox gather; I have found the gardens of the young sable, and my + tents are full of store. + + Thou art here. + + In the morning my spirit is light, and I have harvest where I would + gather, and the stubble is for my foes. In the evening my limbs are + heavy, and I am at rest in my blanket. The hunt is mine and sleep + is mine, and my soul is cheerful when I remember thee. + + Thou art here. + + I have built for thee a place where thy spirit comes. I hear thee + when thou callest to me, and I kneel outside the door, for thou art + wise, and thou speakest to me; but thee as thou art in a far land I + shall see no more. This is my word to thee, that thou mayst know + that I am not alone. Thou shalt not come again, as thou once went; + it is not meet. But by these other ways I will speak to thee. + + Thou art here. + + Farewell. I have spoken. + +Lali finished reading, and then slowly folded up the letter. The writing +was that of the wife of the factor at Fort Charles--she knew it. She +sat for a minute looking straight before her. She read her father's +allegory. Barbarian in so much as her father was, he had beaten this +thing out with the hammer of wisdom. He missed her, but she must not +come back; she had outgrown the old life--he knew it and she was with +him in spirit, in his memory; she understood his picturesque phrases, +borrowed from the large, affluent world about him. Something of the +righteousness and magnanimity of this letter passed into her, giving her +for an instant a sort of peace. She had needed it--needed it to justify +herself, and she had been justified. To return was impossible--she had +known that all along, though she had not admitted it; the struggle had +been but a kind of remorse, after all. That her father should come to +her was also impossible--it was neither for her happiness nor his. She +had been two different persons in her life, and the first was only a +memory to the second. The father had solved the problem for her. He too +was now a memory that she could think on with pleasure, as associated +with the girl she once was. He had been well provided for by her +husband, and General Armour put his hand on hers gently and said: + +"Lali, without your permission I have read this other letter." + +She did not appear curious. She was thinking still of her father's +letter to her. She nodded abstractedly. "Lali," he continued, "this says +that your father wished that letter to be written to you just as he said +it at the Fort, on the day of the Feast of the Yellow Swan. He stood +up--the factor writes so here--and said that he had been thinking much +for years, and that the time had come when he must speak to his daughter +over the seas--" + +General Armour paused. Lali inclined her head, smiled wistfully, and +held up the letter for him to see. The general continued: + +"So he spoke as has been written to you, and then they had the Feast of +the Yellow Swan, and that night--" He paused again, but presently, +his voice a little husky, he went on: "That night he set out on a long +journey,"--he lifted the letter and looked at it, then met the serious +eyes of his daughter-in-law, "on a long journey to the Hills of the +Mighty Men; and, my dear, he never came back; for, as he said, there was +peace in the White Valley, and he would rest till the world should come +to its Spring again, and the noise of its coming should be in his ears. +Those, Lali, are his very words." + +His hand closed on hers, he reached out and took the other hand, from +which the paper fluttered, and clasped both tight in his own firm grasp. + +"My daughter," he said, "you have another father." With a low cry, +like that of a fawn struck in the throat, she slid forward on her knees +beside him, and buried her face on his arm. She understood. Her father +was dead. Mrs. Armour came forward, and, kneeling also, drew the dark +head to her bosom. Then that flood came which sweeps away the rust that +gathers in the eyes and breaks through the closed dikes of the heart. + +Hours after, when she had fallen into a deep sleep, General Armour and +his wife met outside her bedroom door. + +"I shall not leave her," Mrs. Armour said. "Send for Frank. His time has +almost come." + +But it would not have come so soon had not something else occurred. The +day that he came back from Scotland he entered his wife's room, prepared +for a change in her, yet he did not find so much to make him happy as he +had hoped. She received him with a gentleness which touched him, she let +her hand rest in his, she seemed glad to have him with her. All bars had +been cast down between them, but he knew that she had not given him all, +and she knew it also. But she hoped he did not know, and she dreaded the +hour when he would speak out of his now full heart. He did not yet urge +his affection on her, he was simply devoted, and watchful, and tender, +and delightedly hopeful. + +But one night she came tapping at his door. When he opened it, she said: +"Oh come, come! Richard is ill! I have sent for the doctor." + +Henceforth she was her old self again, with a transformed spirit, her +motherhood spending itself in a thousand ways. She who was weak bodily +became now much stronger; the light of new vigour came to her eyes; she +and her husband, in the common peril, worked together, thinking little +of themselves, and all of the child. The last stage of the journey to +happiness was being passed, and if it was not obvious to themselves, the +others, Marion and Captain Vidall included, saw it. + +One anxious day, after the family doctor had left the sick child's room, +Marion, turning to the father and mother, said: "Greyhope will be itself +again. I will go and tell Richard that the danger is over." + +As she turned to do so, Richard entered the room. "I have seen the +doctor," he began, "and the little chap is going to pull along like a +house afire." + +Tapping Frank affectionately on the arm, he was about to continue, +but he saw what stopped him. He saw the last move in Frank Armour's +tragic-comedy. He and Marion left the room as quickly as was possible +to him, for, as he said himself, he was "slow at a quick march"; and +a moment afterwards the wife heard without demur her husband's tale of +love for her. + +Yet, as if to remind him of the wrong he had done, Heaven never granted +Frank Armour another child. + + + ETEXT EDITOR'S BOOKMARKS: + + Being young, she exaggerated the importance of the event + Every man should have laws of his own + Flood came which sweeps away the rust that gathers in the eyes + His duties were many, or he made them so + How can one force one's heart? No, no! One has to wait + If fumbling human fingers do not meddle with it + Man or woman must not expect too much out of life + May be more beautiful in uncertain England than anywhere else + Men must have their bad hours alone + Men are shy with each other where their emotions are in play + Miseries of this world are caused by forcing issues + Most important lessons of life--never to quarrel with a woman + Prepared for a kiss this hour and a reproach the next + Reading a lot and forgetting everything + Romance is an incident to a man + Simply to have death renewed every morning + Sympathy and consolation might be much misplaced + The world never welcomes its deserters + There should be written the one word, "Wait." + There is no influence like the influence of habit + These little pieces of art make life possible + Think of our position + To sorrow may their humour be a foil + Training in the charms of superficiality + We grow away from people against our will + We want to get more out of life than there really is in it + We speak with the straight tongue; it is cowards who lie + Who never knew self-consciousness + Who can understand a woman? + Worth while to have lived so long and to have seen so much + You never can make a scandal less by trying to hide it + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Translation of a Savage, Complete +by Gilbert Parker + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TRANSLATION OF A SAVAGE, *** + +***** This file should be named 6214.txt or 6214.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/6/2/1/6214/ + +Produced by David Widger + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose +such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and +research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do +practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is +subject to the trademark license, especially commercial +redistribution. + + + +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at +https://gutenberg.org/license). + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" +or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project +Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right +of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. +To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 +and the Foundation web page at https://www.pglaf.org. + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at +https://pglaf.org/fundraising. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at +809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email +business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact +information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official +page at https://pglaf.org + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit https://pglaf.org + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including including checks, online payments and credit card +donations. To donate, please visit: https://pglaf.org/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + https://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. diff --git a/6214.zip b/6214.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..400b73d --- /dev/null +++ b/6214.zip 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..3af9190 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #6214 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/6214) diff --git a/old/gp41w10.txt b/old/gp41w10.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d5c0080 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/gp41w10.txt @@ -0,0 +1,5673 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook Translation of A Savage, Entire, by Parker +#41 in our series by Gilbert Parker + +Copyright laws are changing all over the world. Be sure to check the +copyright laws for your country before downloading or redistributing +this or any other Project Gutenberg eBook. + +This header should be the first thing seen when viewing this Project +Gutenberg file. Please do not remove it. Do not change or edit the +header without written permission. + +Please read the "legal small print," and other information about the +eBook and Project Gutenberg at the bottom of this file. Included is +important information about your specific rights and restrictions in +how the file may be used. You can also find out about how to make a +donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**EBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*****These EBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers***** + + +Title: The Translation of a Savage, Complete + +Author: Gilbert Parker + +Release Date: August, 2004 [EBook #6214] +[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule] +[This file was first posted on September 27, 2002] + +Edition: 10 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + + + + + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TRANSLATION OF A SAVAGE, BY PARKER *** + + + +This eBook was produced by David Widger <widger@cecomet.net> + + + +[NOTE: There is a short list of bookmarks, or pointers, at the end of the +file for those who may wish to sample the author's ideas before making an +entire meal of them. D.W.] + + + + + + + + +THE TRANSLATION OF A SAVAGE, Complete + +By Gilbert Parker + + + +CONTENTS +Volume 1. +I. HIS GREAT MISTAKE +II. A DIFFICULT SITUATION +III. OUT OF THE NORTH +IV. IN THE NAME OF THE FAMILY +V. AN AWKWARD HALF-HOUR + +Volume 2. +VI. THE PASSING OF THE YEARS +VII. A COURT-MARTIAL +VIII. TO EVERY MAN HIS HOUR + +Volume 3. +IX. THE FAITH OF COMRADES +X. "THOU KNOWEST THE SECRETS OF OUR HEARTS" +XI. UPON THE HIGHWAY +XII. "THE CHASE OF THE YELLOW SWAN" +XIII. A LIVING POEM +XIV. ON THE EDGE OF A FUTURE +XV. THE END OF THE TRAIL + + + + +INTRODUCTION + +The Translation of a Savage was written in the early autumn of 1893, at +Hampstead Heath, where for over twenty years I have gone, now and then, +when I wished to be in an atmosphere conducive to composition. Hampstead +is one of the parts of London which has as yet been scarcely invaded by +the lodging-house keeper. It is very difficult to get apartments at +Hampstead; it is essentially a residential place; and, like Chelsea, has +literary and artistic character all its own. I think I have seen more +people carrying books in their hands at Hampstead than in any other spot +in England; and there it was, perched above London, with eyes looking +towards the Atlantic over the leagues of land and the thousand leagues of +sea, that I wrote 'The Translation of a Savage'. It was written, as it +were, in one concentrated effort, a ceaseless writing. It was, in +effect, what the Daily Chronicle said of 'When Valmond Came to Pontiac', +a tour de force. It belonged to a genre which compelled me to dispose of +a thing in one continuous effort, or the impulse, impetus, and fulness of +movement was gone. The writing of a book of the kind admitted of no +invasion from extraneous sources, and that was why, while writing 'The +Translation of a Savage' at Hampstead, my letters were only delivered to +me once a week. I saw no friends, for no one knew where I was; but I +walked the heights, I practised with my golf clubs on the Heath, and I +sat in the early autumn evenings looking out at London in that agony of +energy which its myriad lives represented. It was a good time. + +The story had a basis of fact; the main incident was true. It happened, +however, in Michigan rather than in Canada; but I placed the incident in +Canada where it was just as true to the life. I was living in +Hertfordshire at the time of writing the story, and that is why the +English scenes were worked out in Hertfordshire and in London. When I +had finished the tale, there came over me suddenly a kind of feeling that +the incident was too bold and maybe too crude to be believed, and I was +almost tempted to consign it to the flames; but the editor of 'The +English Illustrated Magazine', Sir C. Kinloch-Cooke, took a wholly +different view, and eagerly published it. The judgment of the press was +favourable,--highly so--and I was as much surprised as pleased when Mr. +George Moore, in the Hogarth Club one night, in 1894, said to me: "There +is a really remarkable play in that book of yours, 'The Translation, of a +Savage'." I had not thought up to that time that my work was of the kind +which would appeal to George Moore, but he was always making discoveries. +Meeting him in Pall Mall one day, he said to me: "My dear fellow, I have +made a great discovery. I have been reading the Old Testament. It is +magnificent. In the mass of its incoherence it has a series of the most +marvellous stories. Do you remember--" etc. Then he came home and had +tea with me, revelling, in the meantime, on having discovered the Bible! + +I cannot feel that 'The Translation of a Savage' has any significance +beyond the truthfulness with which I believe it describes the +transformation, or rather the evolution, of a primitive character into a +character with an intelligence of perception and a sympathy which is +generally supposed to be the outcome of long processes of civilisation +and culture. The book has so many friends--this has been sufficiently +established by the very large sale it has had in cheap editions--that I +am still disposed to feel it was an inevitable manifestation in the +progress of my art, such as it is. People of diverse conditions of life +have found in it something to interest and to stimulate. One of the most +volcanic of the Labour members in the House of Commons told me that the +violence of his opposition to me in debate on a certain bill was greatly +moderated by the fact that I had written 'The Translation of a Savage'; +while a certain rather grave duke remarked to me concerning the character +of Lali that "She would have been all right anywhere." I am bound to say +that he was a duke who, while a young man, knew the wilds of Canada and +the United States almost as well as I know Westminster. + + + + +THE TRANSLATION OF A SAVAGE + +CHAPTER I + +HIS GREAT MISTAKE + +It appeared that Armour had made the great mistake of his life. When +people came to know, they said that to have done it when sober had shown +him possessed of a kind of maliciousness and cynicism almost pardonable, +but to do it when tipsy proved him merely weak and foolish. But the fact +is, he was less tipsy at the time than was imagined; and he could have +answered to more malice and cynicism than was credited to him. To those +who know the world it is not singular that, of the two, Armour was +thought to have made the mistake and had the misfortune, or that people +wasted their pity and their scorn upon him alone. Apparently they did +not see that the woman was to be pitied. He had married her; and she was +only an Indian girl from Fort Charles of the Hudson's Bay Company, with a +little honest white blood in her veins. Nobody, not even her own people, +felt that she had anything at stake, or was in danger of unhappiness, or +was other than a person who had ludicrously come to bear the name of Mrs. +Francis Armour. If any one had said in justification that she loved the +man, the answer would have been that plenty of Indian women had loved +white men, but had not married them, and yet the population of half- +breeds went on increasing. + +Frank Armour had been a popular man in London. His club might be found +in the vicinity of Pall Mall, his father's name was high and honoured in +the Army List, one of his brothers had served with Wolseley in Africa, +and Frank himself, having no profession, but with a taste for business +and investment, had gone to Canada with some such intention as Lord +Selkirk's in the early part of the century. He owned large shares in the +Hudson's Bay Company, and when he travelled through the North-West +country, prospecting, he was received most hospitably. Of an inquiring +and gregarious nature he went as much among the half-breeds--or 'metis', +as they are called--and Indians as among the officers of the Hudson's Bay +Company and the white settlers. He had ever been credited with having a +philosophical turn of mind; and this was accompanied by a certain strain +of impulsiveness or daring. He had been accustomed all his life to make +up his mind quickly and, because he was well enough off to bear the +consequences of momentary rashness in commercial investments, he was not +counted among the transgressors. He had his own fortune; he was not +drawing upon a common purse. It was a different matter when he +trafficked rashly in the family name so far as to marry the daughter of +Eye-of-the-Moon, the Indian chief. + +He was tolerably happy when he went to the Hudson's Bay country; for Miss +Julia Sherwood was his promised wife, and she, if poor, was notably +beautiful and of good family. His people had not looked quite kindly on +this engagement; they had, indeed, tried in many ways to prevent it; +partly because of Miss Sherwood's poverty, and also because they knew +that Lady Agnes Martling had long cared for him, and was most happily +endowed with wealth and good looks also. When he left for Canada they +were inwardly glad (they imagined that something might occur to end the +engagement)--all except Richard, the wiseacre of the family, the book- +man, the drone, who preferred living at Greyhope, their Hertfordshire +home, the year through, to spending half the time in Cavendish Square. +Richard was very fond of Frank, admiring him immensely for his buxom +strength and cleverness, and not a little, too, for that very rashness +which had brought him such havoc at last. + +Richard was not, as Frank used to say, "perfectly sound on his pins," +--that is, he was slightly lame, but he was right at heart. He was an +immense reader, but made little use of what he read. He had an abundant +humour, and remembered every anecdote he ever heard. He was kind to the +poor, walked much, talked to himself as he walked, and was known by the +humble sort as "a'centric." But he had a wise head, and he foresaw +danger to Frank's happiness when he went away. While others had gossiped +and manoeuvred and were busily idle, he had watched things. He saw that +Frank was dear to Julia in proportion to the distance between her and +young Lord Haldwell, whose father had done something remarkable in guns +or torpedoes and was rewarded with a lordship and an uncommonly large +fortune. He also saw that, after Frank left, the distance between Lord +Haldwell and Julia became distinctly less--they were both staying at +Greyhope. Julia Sherwood was a remarkably clever girl. Though he felt +it his duty to speak to her for his brother,--a difficult and delicate +matter, he thought it would come better from his mother. + +But when he took action it was too late. Miss Sherwood naively declared +that she had not known her own heart, and that she did not care for Frank +any more. She wept a little, and was soothed by motherly Mrs. Armour, +who was inwardly glad, though she knew the matter would cause Frank pain; +and even General Armour could not help showing slight satisfaction, +though he was innocent of any deliberate action to separate the two. +Straightway Miss Sherwood despatched a letter to the wilds of Canada, and +for a week was an unengaged young person. But she was no doubt consoled +by the fact that for some time past she had had complete control of Lord +Haldwell's emotions. At the end of the week her perceptions were +justified by Lord Haldwell's proposal, which, with admirable tact and +obvious demureness, was accepted. + +Now, Frank Armour was wandering much in the wilds, so that his letters +and papers went careering about after him, and some that came first were +last to reach him. That was how he received a newspaper announcing the +marriage of Lord Haldwell and Julia Sherwood at the same time that her +letter, written in estimable English and with admirable feeling, came, +begging for a release from their engagement, and, towards its close, +assuming, with a charming regret, that all was over, and that the last +word had been said between them. + +Armour was sitting in the trader's room at Fort Charles when the carrier +came with the mails. He had had some successful days hunting buffalo +with Eye-of-the-Moon and a little band of metis, had had a long pow-wow +in Eye-of-the-Moon's lodge, had chatted gaily with Lali the daughter, and +was now prepared to enjoy heartily the arrears of correspondence and news +before him. He ran his hand through the letters and papers, intending to +classify them immediately, according to such handwriting as he recognised +and the dates on the envelopes. But, as he did so, he saw a newspaper +from which the wrapper was partly torn. He also saw a note in the margin +directing him to a certain page. The note was in Richard's handwriting. +He opened the paper at the page indicated and saw the account of the +marriage! His teeth clinched on his cigar, his face turned white, the +paper fell from his fingers. He gasped, his hands spread out nervously, +then caught the table and held it as though to steady himself. + +The trader rose. "You are ill," he said. "Have you bad news?" He +glanced towards the paper. Slowly Armour folded the paper up, and then +rose unsteadily. "Gordon," he said, "give me a glass of brandy." + +He turned towards the cupboard in the room. The trader opened it, took +out a bottle, and put it on the table beside Armour, together with a +glass and some water. Armour poured out a stiff draught, added a very +little water, and drank it. He drew a great sigh, and stood looking at +the paper. + +"Is there anything I can do for you, Mr. Armour?" urged the trader. + +"Nothing, thank you, nothing at all. Just leave the brandy here, will +you? I feel knocked about, and I have to go through the rest of these +letters." + +He ran his fingers through the pile, turning it over hastily, as if +searching for something. The trader understood. He was a cool-headed +Scotsman; he knew that there were some things best not inquired into, +and that men must have their bad hours alone. He glanced at the brandy +debatingly, but presently turned and left the room in silence. In his +own mind, however, he wished he might have taken the brandy without being +discourteous. Armour had discovered Miss Sherwood's letter. Before he +opened it he took a little more brandy. Then he sat down and read it +deliberately. The liquor had steadied him. The fingers of one hand even +drummed on the table. But the face was drawn, the eyes were hard, and +the look of him was altogether pinched. After he had finished this, he +looked for others from the same hand. He found none. Then he picked out +those from his mother and father. He read them grimly. Once he paused +as he read his mother's letter, and took a gulp of plain brandy. There +was something very like a sneer on his face when he finished reading. +He read the hollowness of the sympathy extended to him; he understood the +far from adroit references to Lady Agnes Martling. He was very bitter. +He opened no more letters, but took up the Morning Post again, and read +it slowly through. The look of his face was not pleasant. There was a +small looking-glass opposite him. He caught sight of himself in it. +He drew his hand across his eyes and forehead, as though he was in a +miserable dream. He looked again; he could not recognise himself. + +He then bundled the letters and papers into his despatch-box. His +attention was drawn to one letter. He picked it up. It was from +Richard. He started to break the seal, but paused. The strain of the +event was too much; he winced. He determined not to read it then, to +wait until he had recovered himself. He laughed now painfully. It had +been better for him--it had, maybe, averted what people were used to +term his tragedy--had he read his brother's letter at that moment. +For Richard Armour was a sensible man, notwithstanding his peculiarities; +and perhaps the most sensible words he ever wrote were in that letter +thrust unceremoniously into Frank Armour's pocket. Armour had received a +terrible blow. He read his life backwards. He had no future. The +liquor he had drunk had not fevered him, it had not wildly excited him; +it merely drew him up to a point where he could put a sudden impulse into +practice without flinching. He was bitter against his people; he +credited them with more interference than was actual. He felt that +happiness had gone out of his life and left him hopeless. As we said, he +was a man of quick decisions. He would have made a dashing but reckless +soldier; he was not without the elements of the gamester. It is possible +that there was in him also a strain of cruelty, undeveloped but radical. +Life so far had evolved the best in him; he had been cheery and candid. +Now he travelled back into new avenues of his mind and found strange, +aboriginal passions, fully adapted to the present situation. Vulgar +anger and reproaches were not after his nature. He suddenly found +sources of refined but desperate retaliation. He drew upon them. He +would do something to humiliate his people and the girl who had spoiled +his life. Some one thing! It should be absolute and lasting, it should +show how low had fallen his opinion of women, of whom Julia Sherwood had +once been chiefest to him. In that he would show his scorn of her. He +would bring down the pride of his family, who, he believed, had helped, +out of mere selfishness, to tumble his happiness into the shambles. + +He was older by years than an hour ago. But he was not without the +faculty of humour; that was why he did not become very excited; it was +also why he determined upon a comedy which should have all the elements +of tragedy. Perhaps, however, he would have hesitated to carry his +purposes to immediate conclusions, were it not that the very gods seemed +to play his game with him. For, while he stood there, looking out into +the yard of the fort, a Protestant missionary passed the window. The +Protestant missionary, as he is found at such places as Fort Charles, +is not a strictly superior person. A Jesuit might have been of advantage +to Frank Armour at that moment. The Protestant missionary is not above +comfortable assurances of gold. So that when Armour summoned this one +in, and told him what was required of him, and slipped a generous gift of +the Queen's coin into his hand, he smiled vaguely and was willing to do +what he was bidden. Had he been a Jesuit, who is sworn to poverty, and +more often than not a man of birth and education, he might have +influenced Frank Armour and prevented the notable mishap and scandal. +As it was, Armour took more brandy. + +Then he went down to Eye-of-the-Moon's lodge. A few hours afterwards the +missionary met him there. The next morning Lali, the daughter of Eye-of- +the-Moon, and the chieftainess of a portion of her father's tribe, whose +grandfather had been a white man, was introduced to the Hudson's Bay +country as Mrs. Frank Armour. But that was not all. Indeed, as it +stood, it was very little. He had only made his comedy possible as yet; +now the play itself was to come. He had carried his scheme through +boldly so far. He would not flinch in carrying it out to the last +letter. He brought his wife down to the Great Lakes immediately, +scarcely resting day or night. There he engaged an ordinary but reliable +woman, to whom he gave instructions, and sent the pair to the coast. He +instructed his solicitor at Montreal to procure passages for Mrs. Francis +Armour and maid for Liverpool. Then, by letters, he instructed his +solicitor in London to meet Mrs. Francis Armour and maid at Liverpool and +take them to Greyhope in Hertfordshire--that is, if General Armour and +Mrs. Armour, or some representative of the family, did not meet them when +they landed from the steamship. + +Presently he sat down and wrote to his father and mother, and asked them +to meet his wife and her maid when they arrived by the steamer Aphrodite. +He did not explain to them in precise detail his feelings on Miss Julia +Sherwood's marriage, nor did he go into full particulars as to the +personality of Mrs. Frank Armour; but he did say that, because he knew +they were anxious that he should marry "acceptably," he had married into +the aristocracy, the oldest aristocracy of America; and because he also +knew they wished him to marry wealth, he sent them a wife rich in +virtues--native, unspoiled virtues. He hoped that they would take her to +their hearts and cherish her. He knew their firm principles of honour, +and that he could trust them to be kind to his wife until he returned to +share the affection which he was sure would be given to her. It was not +his intention to return to England for some time yet. He had work to do +in connection with his proposed colony; and a wife--even a native wife-- +could not well be a companion in the circumstances. Besides, Lali--his +wife's name was Lali!--would be better occupied in learning the +peculiarities of the life in which her future would be cast. It was +possible they would find her an apt pupil. Of this they could not +complain, that she was untravelled; for she had ridden a horse, bareback, +half across the continent. They could not cavil at her education, for +she knew several languages--aboriginal languages--of the North. She had +merely to learn the dialect of English society, and how to carry with +acceptable form the costumes of the race to which she was going. Her own +costume was picturesque, but it might appear unusual in London society. +Still, they could use their own judgment about that. + +Then, when she was gone beyond recall, he chanced one day to put on the +coat he wore when the letters and paper declaring his misfortune came to +him. He found his brother's letter; he opened it and read it. It was +the letter of a man who knew how to appreciate at their proper value the +misfortunes, as the fortunes, of life. While Frank Armour read he came +to feel for the first time that his brother Richard had suffered, maybe, +from some such misery as had come to him through Julia Sherwood. It was +a dispassionate, manly letter, relieved by gentle wit, and hinting with +careful kindness that a sudden blow was better for a man than a lifelong +thorn in his side. Of Julia Sherwood he had nothing particularly bitter +to say. He delicately suggested that she had acted according to her +nature, and that in the see-saw of life Frank had had a sore blow; but +this was to be borne. The letter did not say too much; it did not +magnify the difficulty, it did not depreciate it. It did not even +directly counsel; it was wholesomely, tenderly judicial. Indirectly, it +dwelt upon the steadiness and manliness of Frank's character; directly, +lightly, and without rhetoric, it enlarged upon their own comradeship. +It ran over pleasantly the days of their boyhood, when they were hardly +ever separated. It made distinct, yet with no obvious purpose, how good +were friendship and confidence--which might be the most unselfish thing +in the world--between two men. With the letter before him Frank Armour +saw his act in a new light. + +As we said, it is possible if he had read it on the day when his trouble +came to him, he had not married Lali, or sent her to England on this--to +her--involuntary mission of revenge. It is possible, also, that there +came to him the first vague conception of the wrong he had done this +Indian girl, who undoubtedly married him because she cared for him after +her heathen fashion, while he had married her for nothing that was +commendable; not even for passion, which may be pardoned, nor for +vanity, which has its virtues. He had had his hour with circumstance; +circumstance would have its hour with him in due course. Yet there was +no extraordinary revulsion. He was still angry, cynical, and very sore. +He would see the play out with a consistent firmness. He almost managed +a smile when a letter was handed to him some weeks later, bearing his +solicitor's assurance that Mrs. Frank Armour and her maid had been safely +bestowed on the Aphrodite for England. This was the first act in his +tragic comedy. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +A DIFFICULT SITUATION + +When Mrs. Frank Armour arrived at Montreal she still wore her Indian +costume of clean, well-broidered buckskin, moccasins, and leggings, all +surmounted by a blanket. It was not a distinguished costume, but it +seemed suitable to its wearer. Mr. Armour's agent was in a quandary. +He had received no instructions regarding her dress. He felt, of course, +that, as Mrs. Frank Armour, she should put off these garments, and dress, +so far as was possible, in accordance with her new position. But when he +spoke about it to Mackenzie, the elderly maid and companion, he found +that Mr. Armour had said that his wife was to arrive in England dressed +as she was. He saw something ulterior in the matter, but it was not his +province to interfere. And so Mrs. Frank Armour was a passenger by the +Aphrodite in her buckskin garments. + +What she thought of it all is not quite easy to say. It is possible that +at first she only considered that she was the wife of a white man,-- +a thing to be desired, and that the man she loved was hers for ever-- +a matter of indefinable joy to her. That he was sending her to England +did not fret her, because it was his will, and he knew what was best. +Busy with her contented and yet somewhat dazed thoughts of him,--she +was too happy to be very active mentally, even if it had been the +characteristic of her race,--she was not at first aware how much notice +she excited, and how strange a figure she was in this staring city. +When it did dawn upon her she shrank a little, but still was placid, +preferring to sit with her hands folded in her lap, idly watching things. +She appeared oblivious that she was the wife of a man of family and rank; +she was only thinking that the man was hers--all hers. He had treated +her kindly enough in the days they were together, but she had not been +a great deal with him, because they travelled fast, and his duties were +many, or he made them so--but the latter possibility did not occur to +her. + +When he had hastily bidden her farewell at Port Arthur he had kissed her +and said: "Good-bye, my wife." She was not yet acute enough in the +inflections of Saxon speech to catch the satire--almost involuntary--in +the last two words. She remembered the words, however, and the kiss, and +she was quite satisfied. To what she was going she did not speculate. +He was sending her: that was enough. + +The woman given to her as maid had been well chosen. Armour had done +this carefully. She was Scotch, was reserved, had a certain amount of +shrewdness, would obey instructions, and do her duty carefully. What she +thought about the whole matter she kept to herself; even the solicitor at +Montreal could not find out. She had her instructions clear in her mind; +she was determined to carry them out to the letter--for which she was +already well paid, and was like to be better paid; because Armour had +arranged that she should continue to be with his wife after they got to +England. She understood well the language of Lali's tribe, and because +Lali's English was limited she would be indispensable in England. + +Mackenzie, therefore, had responsibility, and if she was not elated over +it, she still knew the importance of her position, and had enough +practical vanity to make her an efficient servant and companion. She +already felt that she had got her position in life, from which she was +to go out no more for ever. She had been brought up in the shadow of +Alnwick Castle, and she knew what was due to her charge--by other people; +herself only should have liberty with her. She was taking Lali to the +home of General Armour, and that must be kept constantly before her mind. +Therefore, from the day they set foot on the Aphrodite, she kept her +place beside Mrs. Armour, sitting with her,--they walked very little,-- +and scarcely ever speaking, either to her or to the curious passengers. +Presently the passengers became more inquisitive, and made many attempts +at being friendly; but these received little encouragement. It had +become known who the Indian girl was, and many wild tales went about as +to her marriage with Francis Armour. Now it was maintained she had saved +his life at an outbreak of her tribe; again, that she had found him dying +in the woods and had nursed him back to life and health; yet again, that +she was a chieftainess, a successful claimant against the Hudson's Bay +Company--and so on. + +There were several on board who knew the Armours well by name, and two +who knew them personally. One was Mr. Edward Lambert, a barrister of the +Middle Temple, and the other was Mrs. Townley, a widow, a member of a +well-known Hertfordshire family, who, on a pleasant journey in Scotland, +had met, conquered, and married a wealthy young American, and had been +left alone in the world, by no means portionless, eighteen months before. +Lambert knew Richard Armour well, and when, from Francis Armour's +solicitor, with whom he was acquainted, he heard, just before they +started, who the Indian girl was, he was greatly shocked and sorry. He +guessed at once the motive, the madness, of this marriage. But he kept +his information and his opinions mostly to himself, except in so far as +it seemed only due to friendship to contradict the numberless idle +stories going about. After the first day at sea he came to know Mrs. +Townley, and when he discovered that they had many common friends and +that she knew the Armours, he spoke a little more freely to her regarding +the Indian wife, and told her what he believed was the cause of the +marriage. + +Mrs. Townley was a woman--a girl--of uncommon gentleness of disposition, +and, in spite of her troubles, inclined to view life with a sunny eye. +She had known of Frank Armour's engagement with Miss Julia Sherwood, but +she had never heard the sequel. If this was the sequel--well, it had +to be faced. But she was almost tremulous with sympathy when she +remembered Mrs. Armour, and Frank's gay, fashionable sister, Marion, and +contemplated the arrival of this Indian girl at Greyhope. She had always +liked Frank Armour, but this made her angry with him; for, on second +thoughts, she was not more sorry for him and for his people than for +Lali, the wife. She had the true instinct of womanhood, and she supposed +that a heathen like this could have feelings to be hurt and a life to be +wounded as herself or another. At least she saw what was possible in the +future when this Indian girl came to understand her position--only to be +accomplished by contact with the new life, so different from her past. +Both she and Lambert decided that she was very fine-looking, not +withstanding her costume. She was slim and well built, with modest bust +and shapely feet and ankles. Her eyes were large, meditative, and +intelligent, her features distinguished. She was a goodly product of her +race, being descended from a line of chiefs and chieftainesses--broken +only in the case of her grandfather, as has been mentioned. Her hands +(the two kindly inquisitors decided) were almost her best point. They +were perfectly made, slim, yet plump, the fingers tapering, the wrist +supple. Mrs. Townley then and there decided that the girl had +possibilities. But here she was, an Indian, with few signs of +civilisation or of that breeding which seems to white people the +only breeding fit for earth or heaven. + +Mrs. Townley did not need Lambert's suggestion that she should try to +approach the girl, make friends with her, and prepare her in some slight +degree for the strange career before her. + +Mrs. Townley had an infinite amount of tact. She knew it was best to +approach the attendant first. This she did, and, to the surprise of +other lady-passengers, received no rebuff. Her advance was not, however, +rapid. Mackenzie had had her instructions. When she found that Mrs. +Townley knew Francis Armour and his people, she thawed a little more, +and then, very hesitatingly, she introduced her to the Indian wife. +Mrs. Townley smiled her best--and there were many who knew how attractive +she could be at such a moment. There was a slight pause, in which Lali +looked at her meditatively, earnestly, and then those beautiful wild +fingers glided out, and caught her hand, and held it; but she spoke no +word. She only looked inquiringly, seriously, at her new-found friend, +and presently dropped the blanket away from her, and sat up firmly, as +though she felt she was not altogether an alien now, and had a right to +hold herself proudly among white people, as she did in her own country +and with her own tribe, who had greatly admired her. Certainly Mrs. +Townley could find no fault with the woman as an Indian. She had taste, +carried her clothes well, and was superbly fresh in appearance, though +her hair still bore very slight traces of the grease which even the most +aristocratic Indians use. + +But Lali would not talk. Mrs. Townley was anxious that the girl should +be dressed in European costume, and offered to lend and rearrange dresses +of her own, but she came in collision with Mr. Armour's instructions. +So she had to assume a merely kind and comforting attitude. The wife had +not the slightest idea where she was going, and even when Mackenzie, at +Mrs. Townley's oft-repeated request, explained very briefly and +unpicturesquely, she only looked incredulous or unconcerned. Yet the +ship, its curious passengers, the dining saloon, the music, the sea, and +all, had given her suggestions of what was to come. They had expected +that at table she would be awkward and ignorant to a degree. But she had +at times eaten at the trader's table at Fort Charles, and had learned how +to use a knife and fork. She had also been a favourite with the trader's +wife, who had taught her very many civilised things. Her English, though +far from abundant, was good. Those, therefore, who were curious and rude +enough to stare at her were probably disappointed to find that she ate +like "any Christom man." + +"How do you think the Armours will receive her?" said Lambert to Mrs. +Townley, of whose judgment on short acquaintance he had come to entertain +a high opinion. + +Mrs. Townley had a pretty way of putting her head to one side and +speaking very piquantly. She had had it as a girl; she had not lost it +as a woman, any more than she had lost a soft little spontaneous laugh +which was one of her unusual charms--for few women can laugh audibly with +effect. She laughed very softly now, and, her sense of humour +supervening for the moment, she said: + +"Really, you have asked me a conundrum. I fancy I see Mrs. Armour's face +when she gets the news,--at the breakfast-table, of course, and gives a +little shriek, and says: 'General! oh, General!' But it is all very +shocking, you know," she added, in a lower voice. "Still I think they +will receive her and do the best they can for her; because, you see, +there she is, married hard and fast. She bears the Armour name, and is +likely to make them all very unhappy, indeed, if she determines to +retaliate upon them for any neglect." + +"Yes. But how to retaliate, Mrs. Townley?" Lambert had not a suggestive +mind. + +"Well, for instance, suppose they sent her away into seclusion,--with +Frank's consent, another serious question,--and she should take the +notion to fly her retirement, and appear inopportunely at some social +function clothed as she is now! I fancy her blanket would be a wet one +in such a case--if you will pardon the little joke." + +Lambert sighed. "Poor Frank--poor devil!" he said, almost beneath his +breath. + +"And wherefore poor Frank? Do you think he or the Armours of Greyhope +are the only ones at stake in this? What about this poor girl? Just +think why he married her, if our suspicions are right,--and then imagine +her feelings when she wakes to the truth over there, as some time she is +sure to do!" + +Then Lambert began to see the matter in a different light, and his +sympathy for Francis Armour grew less as his pity for the girl increased. +In fact, the day before they got to Liverpool he swore at Armour more +than once, and was anxious concerning the reception of the heathen wife +by her white relatives. + +Had he been present at a certain scene at Greyhope a day or two before, +he would have been still more anxious. It was the custom, at breakfast, +for Mrs. Armour to open her husband's letters and read them while he was +engaged with his newspaper, and hand to him afterwards those that were +important. This morning Marion noticed a letter from Frank amongst the +pile, and, without a word, pounced upon it. She was curious--as any +woman would be--to see how he took Miss Sherwood's action. Her father +was deep in his paper at the time. Her mother was reading other letters. +Marion read the first few lines with a feeling of almost painful wonder, +the words were so curious, cynical, and cold. + +Richard sat opposite her. He also was engaged with his paper, but, +chancing to glance up, he saw that she was becoming very pale, and that +the letter trembled in her fingers. Being a little short-sighted, he +was not near enough to see the handwriting. He did not speak yet. He +watched. Presently, seeing her grow more excited, he touched her foot +under the table. She looked up, and caught his eye. She gasped +slightly. She gave him a warning look, and turned away from her +mother. Then she went on reading to the bitter end. + +Presently a little cry escaped her against her will. At that her mother +looked up, but she only saw her daughter's back, as she rose hurriedly +from the table, saying that she would return in a moment. Mrs. Armour, +however, had been startled. She knew that Marion had been reading a +letter, and, with a mother's instinct, her thoughts were instantly on +Frank. She spoke quickly, almost sharply: + +"Marion, come here." + +Richard had risen. He came round the table, and, as the girl obeyed her +mother, took the letter from her fingers and hastily glanced over it. +Mrs. Armour came forward and took her daughter's arm. "Marion," she +said, "there is something wrong--with Frank. What is it?" + +General Armour was now looking up at them all, curiously, questioningly, +through his glasses, his paper laid down, his hands resting on the table. + +Marion could not answer. She was sick with regret, vexation, and shame; +at the first flush, death--for Frank--had been preferable to this. She +had a considerable store of vanity; she was not very philosophical. +Besides, she was not married; and what Captain Vidall, her devoted +admirer and possible husband, would think of this heathenish alliance was +not a cheer ful thought to her. She choked down a sob, and waved her +hand towards Richard to answer for her. He was pale too, but cool. He +understood the case instantly; he made up his mind instantly also as to +what ought to be--must be--done. + +"Well, mother," he said, "it is about Frank. But he is all right; that +is, he is alive and well-in body. But he has arranged a hateful little +embarrassment for us--he is married." + +"Married!" exclaimed his mother faintly. "Oh, poor Lady Agnes!" + +Marion sniffed a little viciously at this. + +"Married? Married?" said his father. "Well, what about it? eh? what +about it?" + +The mother wrung her hands. "Oh, I know it is something dreadful-- +dreadful! He has married some horrible wild person, or something." + +Richard, miserable as he was, remained calm. "Well," said he, "I don't +know about her being horrible. Frank is silent on that point; but she is +wild enough--a wild Indian, in fact." + +"Indian? Indian? Good God--a red nigger!" cried General Armour +harshly, starting to his feet. + +"An Indian? a wild Indian?" Mrs. Armour whispered faintly, as she +dropped into a chair. + +"And she'll be here in two or three days," fluttered Marion hysterically. + +Meanwhile Richard had hastily picked up the Times. "She is due here the +day after to-morrow," he said deliberately. "Frank is as decisive as he +is rash. Well, it's a melancholy tit-for-tat." + +"What do you mean by tit-for-tat?" cried his father angrily. + +"Oh, I mean that--that we tried to hasten Julia's marriage--with the +other fellow, and he is giving us one in return; and you will all agree +that it's a pretty permanent one." + +The old soldier recovered himself, and was beside his wife in an instant. +He took her hand. "Don't fret about it, wife," he said; "it's an ugly +business, but we must put up with it. The boy was out of his head. We +are old, now, my dear, but there was a time when we should have resented +such a thing as much as Frank--though not in the same fashion, perhaps-- +not in the same fashion." The old man pressed his lips hard to keep down +his emotion. + +"Oh, how could he--how could he!" said his mother: "we meant everything +for the best." + +"It is always dangerous business meddling with lovers' affairs," rejoined +Richard. "Lovers take themselves very seriously indeed, and--well, here +the thing is! Now, who will go and fetch her from Liverpool? I should +say that both my father and my mother ought to go." + +Thus Richard took it for granted that they would receive Frank's Indian +wife into their home. He intended that, so far as he was concerned, +there should be no doubt upon the question from the beginning. + +"Never--she shall never come here!" said Marion, with flashing eyes; +"a common squaw, with greasy hair, and blankets, and big mouth, and black +teeth, who eats with her fingers and grunts! If she does, if she is +brought to Greyhope, I will never show my face in the world again. Frank +married the animal: why does he ship her home to us? Why didn't he come +with her? Why does he not take her to a home of his own? Why should he +send her here, to turn our house into a menagerie?" + +Marion drew her skirt back, as if the common squaw, with her blankets and +grease, was at that moment near her. + +"Well, you see," continued Richard, "that is just it. As I said, Frank +arranged this little complication with a trifling amount of malice. No +doubt he didn't come with her because he wished to test the family +loyalty and hospitality; but a postscript to this letter says that his +solicitor has instructions to meet his wife at Liverpool, and bring her +on here in case we fail to show her proper courtesy." + +General Armour here spoke. "He has carried the war of retaliation very +far indeed, but men do mad things when their blood is up, as I have seen +often. That doesn't alter our clear duty in the matter. If the woman +were bad, or shameful, it would be a different thing; if--" + +Marion interrupted: "She has ridden bareback across the continent like a +jockey,--like a common jockey, and she wears a blanket, and she doesn't +know a word of English, and she will sit on the floor!" + +"Well," said her father, "all these things are not sins, and she must be +taught better." + +"Joseph, how can you?" said Mrs. Armour indignantly. "She cannot, she +shall not come here. Think of Marion. Think of our position." + +She hid her troubled, tear-stained face behind her handkerchief. At the +same time she grasped her husband's hand. She knew that he was right. +She honoured him in her heart for the position he had taken, but she +could not resist the natural impulse of a woman where her taste and +convention were shocked. + +The old man was very pale, but there was no mistaking his determination. +He had been more indignant than any of them, at first, but he had an +unusual sense of justice when he got face to face with it, as Richard had +here helped him to do. "We do not know that the woman has done any +wrong," he said. "As for our name and position, they, thank God! are +where a mad marriage cannot unseat them. We have had much prosperity in +the world, my wife; we have had neither death nor dishonour; we--" + +"If this isn't dishonour, father, what is?" Marion flashed out. + +He answered calmly. "My daughter, it is a great misfortune, it will +probably be a lifelong trial, but it is not necessarily dishonour." + +"You never can make a scandal less by trying to hide it," said Richard, +backing up his father. "It is all pretty awkward, but I daresay we shall +get some amusement out of it in the end." + +"Richard," said his mother through her tears, "you are flippant and +unkind!" + +"Indeed, mother," was his reply, "I never was more serious in my life. +When I spoke of amusement, I meant comedy merely, not fun--the thing that +looks like tragedy and has a happy ending. That is what I mean, mother, +nothing more." + +"You are always so very deep, Richard," remarked Marion ironically, "and +care so very little how the rest of us feel about things. You have no +family pride. If you had married a squaw, we shouldn't have been +surprised. You could have camped in the grounds with your wild woman, +and never have been missed--by the world," she hastened to add, for she +saw a sudden pain in his face. + +He turned from them all a little wearily, and limped over to the window. +He stood looking out into the limes where he and Frank had played when +boys. He put his finger up, his unhandsome finger, and caught away some +moisture from his eyes. He did not dare to let them see his face, nor +yet to speak. Marion had cut deeper than she knew, and he would carry +the wound for many a day before it healed. + +But his sister felt instantly how cruel she had been, as she saw him limp +away, and caught sight of the bowed shoulders and the prematurely grey +hair. Her heart smote her. She ran over, and impulsively put her hands +on his shoulder. "Oh, Dick," she said, "forgive me, Dick! I didn't mean +it. I was angry and foolish and hateful." + +He took one of her hands as it rested on his shoulder, she standing +partly behind him, and raised it to his lips, but he did not turn to her; +he could not. + +"It is all right--all right," he said; "it doesn't make any difference. +Let us think of Frank and what we have got to do. Let us stand together, +Marion; that is best." + +But her tears were dropping on his shoulder, as her forehead rested on +her hand. He knew now that, whatever Frank's wife was, she would not +have an absolute enemy here; for when Marion cried her heart was soft. +She was clay in the hands of the potter whom we call Mercy--more often a +stranger to the hearts of women than of men. At the other side of the +room also the father and mother, tearless now, watched these two; and the +mother saw her duty better and with less rebelliousness. She had felt it +from the first, but she could not bring her mind to do it. They held +each other's hands in silence. Presently General Armour said: "Richard, +your mother and I will go to Liverpool to meet Frank's wife." + +Marion shuddered a little, and her hands closed on Richard's shoulder, +but she said nothing. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +OUT OF THE NORTH + +It was a beautiful day--which was so much in favour of Mrs. Frank Armour +in relation to her husband's people. General Armour and his wife had +come down from London by the latest train possible, that their suspense +at Liverpool might be short. They said little to each other, but when +they did speak it was of things very different from the skeleton which +they expected to put into the family cupboard presently. Each was trying +to spare the other. It was very touching. They naturally looked upon +the matter in its most unpromising light, because an Indian was an +Indian, and this unknown savage from Fort Charles was in violent contrast +to such desirable persons as Lady Agnes Martling. Not that the Armours +were zealous for mere money and title, but the thing itself was +altogether a propos, as Mrs. Armour had more naively than correctly put +it. The general, whose knowledge of character and the circumstances of +life was considerable, had worked out the thing with much accuracy. He +had declared to Richard, in their quiet talk upon the subject, that Frank +must have been anything but sober when he did it. He had previously +called it a policy of retaliation; so that now he was very near the +truth. When they arrived at the dock at Liverpool, the Aphrodite was +just making into the harbour. + +"Egad," said General Armour to himself, "Sebastopol was easier than this; +for fighting I know, and being peppered I know, by Jews, Greeks, +infidels, and heretics; but to take a savage to my arms and do for her +what her godfathers and godmothers never did, is worse than the devil's +dance at Delhi." + +What Mrs. Armour, who was not quite so definite as her husband, thought, +it would be hard to tell; but probably grief for, and indignation at, her +son, were uppermost in her mind. She had quite determined upon her +course. None could better carry that high, neutral look of social +superiority than she. + +Please Heaven, she said to herself, no one should see that her equanimity +was shaken. They had brought one servant with them, who had been gravely +and yet conventionally informed that his young master's wife, an Indian +chieftainess, was expected. There are few family troubles but find their +way to servants' hall with an uncomfortable speed; for, whether or not +stone walls have ears, certainly men-servants and maid-servants have eyes +that serve for ears, and ears that do more than their bounden duty. +Boulter, the footman, knew his business. When informed of the coming of +Mrs. Francis Armour, the Indian chieftainess, his face was absolutely +expressionless; his "Yessir" was as mechanical as usual. On the dock he +was marble--indifferent. When the passengers began to land, he showed no +excitement. He was decorously alert. When the crucial moment came, he +was imperturbable. Boulter was an excellent servant. So said Edward +Lambert to himself after the event; so, likewise, said Mrs. Townley to +herself when the thing was over; so declared General Armour many a time +after, and once very emphatically, just before he raised Boulter's wages. + +As the boat neared Liverpool, Lambert and Mrs. Townley grew nervous. The +truth regarding the Indian wife had become known among the passengers, +and most were very curious--some in a well-bred fashion, some +intrusively, vulgarly. Mackenzie, Lali's companion, like Boulter, was +expressionless in face. She had her duty to do, paid for liberally, and +she would do it. Lali might have had a more presentable and dignified +attendant, but not one more worthy. It was noticeable that the captain +of the ship and all the officers had been markedly courteous to Mrs. +Armour throughout the voyage, but, to their credit, not ostentatiously +so. When the vessel was brought to anchor and the passengers were being +put upon the tender, the captain came and made his respectful adieus, +as though Lali were a lady of title in her own right, and not an Indian +girl married to a man acting under the influence of brandy and malice. +General Armour and Mrs. Armour were always grateful to Lambert and Mrs. +Townley for the part they played in this desperate little comedy. They +stood still and watchful as the passengers came ashore one by one. They +saw that they were the centre of unusual interest, but General Armour was +used to bearing himself with a grim kind of indifference in public, and +his wife was calm, and so somewhat disappointed those who probably +expected the old officer and his wife to be distressed. Frank Armour's +solicitor was also there, but, with good taste, he held aloof. The two +needed all their courage, however, when they saw a figure in buckskin and +blanket step upon the deck, attended by a very ordinary, austere, and +shabbily-dressed Scotswoman. But immediately behind them were Edward +Lambert and Mrs. Townley, and these, with their simple tact, naturalness, +and freedom from any sort of embarrassment, acted as foils, and relieved +the situation. + +General Armour advanced, hat in hand. "You are my son's wife?" he said +courteously to this being in a blanket. + +She looked up and shook her head slightly, for she did not quite +understand; but she recognised his likeness to her husband, and presently +she smiled up musingly. Mackenzie repeated to her what General Armour +had said. She nodded now, a flash of pleasure lighting up her face, and +she slid out her beautiful hand to him. The general took it and pressed +it mechanically, his lips twitching slightly. He pressed it far harder +than he meant, for his feelings were at tension. She winced slightly, +and involuntarily thrust out her other hand, as if to relieve his +pressure. As she did so the blanket fell away from her head and +shoulders. Lambert, with excellent intuition, caught it, and threw it +across his arm. Then, quickly, and without embarrassment, he and Mrs. +Townley greeted General Armour, who returned the greetings gravely, but +in a singular, confidential tone, which showed his gratitude. Then he +raised his hat again to Lali, and said: "Come and let me introduce you +--to your husband's mother." + +The falling back of that blanket had saved the situation; for when the +girl stood without it in her buckskin garments there was a dignity in her +bearing which carried off the bizarre event. There was timidity in her +face, and yet a kind of pride too, though she was only a savage. The +case, even at this critical moment, did not seem quite hopeless. When +they came to Mrs. Armour, Lali shrank away timidly from the look in the +mother's eyes, and, shivering slightly, looked round for her blanket. +But Lambert had deftly passed it on to the footman. Presently Mrs. +Armour took both the girl's hands in hers (perhaps she did it because the +eyes of the public were on her, but that is neither here nor there--she +did it), and kissed her on the cheek. Then they moved away to a closed +carriage. + +And that was the second act in Frank Armour's comedy of errors. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +IN THE NAME OF THE FAMILY + +The journey from Liverpool to Greyhope was passed in comparative silence. +The Armours had a compartment to themselves, and they made the Indian +girl as comfortable as possible without self-consciousness, without any +artificial politeness. So far, what they had done was a matter of duty, +not of will; but they had done their duty naturally all their lives, and +it was natural to them now. They had no personal feelings towards the +girl one way or another, as yet. It was trying to them that people +stared into the compartment at different stations. It presently dawned +upon General Armour that it might also be trying to their charge. +Neither he nor his wife had taken into account the possibility of the +girl having feelings to be hurt. But he had noticed Lali shrink visibly +and flush slightly when some one stared harder than usual, and this +troubled him. It opened up a possibility. He began indefinitely to see +that they were not the only factors in the equation. He was probably a +little vexed that he had not seen it before; for he wished to be a just +man. He was wont to quote with more or less austerity--chiefly the +result of his professional life--this: + + "For justice, all place a temple, and all season summer." + +And, man of war as he was, he had another saying which was much in his +mouth; and he lived up to it with considerable sincerity: + + "Still in thy right hand carry gentle peace, + To silence envious tongues." + +He whispered to his wife. It would have been hard to tell from her look +what she thought of the matter, but presently she changed seats with her +husband, that he might, by holding his newspaper at a certain angle, +shield the girl from intrusive gazers. + +At every station the same scene was enacted. And inquisitive people must +have been surprised to see how monotonously ordinary was the manner of +the three white people in the compartment. Suddenly, at a station near +London, General Armour gave a start, and used a strong expression under +his breath. Glancing at the "Marriage" column, he saw a notice to the +effect that on a certain day of a certain month, Francis Gilbert, the son +of General Joseph Armour, C.B., of Greyhope, Hertfordshire, and Cavendish +Square, was married to Lali, the daughter of Eye-of-the-Moon, chief of +the Bloods, at her father's lodge in the Saskatchewan Valley. This had +been inserted by Frank Armour's solicitor, according to his instructions, +on the day that the Aphrodite was due at Liverpool. General Armour did +not at first intend to show this to his wife, but on second thought he +did, because he knew she would eventually come to know of it, and also +because she saw that something had moved him. She silently reached out +her hand for the paper. He handed it to her, pointing to the notice. + +Mrs. Armour was unhappy, but her self-possession was admirable, and she +said nothing. She turned her face to the window, and sat for a long time +looking out. She did not turn to the others, for her eyes were full of +tears, and she did not dare to wipe them away, nor yet to let them be +seen. She let them dry there. She was thinking of her son, her +favourite son, for whom she had been so ambitious, and for whom, so far +as she could, and retain her self-respect, she had delicately intrigued, +that he might happily and befittingly marry. She knew that in the matter +of his engagement she had not done what was best for him, but how could +she have guessed that this would be the result? She also was sure that +when the first flush of his anger and disappointment had passed, and he +came to view this thing with cooler mind, he would repent deeply--for a +whole lifetime. She was convinced that he had not married this savage +for anything which could make marriage endurable. Under the weight of +the thought she was likely to forget that the young alien wife might have +lost terribly in the event also. + +The arrival at Euston and the departure from St. Pancras were rather +painful all round, for, though there was no waiting at either place, the +appearance of an Indian girl in native costume was uncommon enough, even +in cosmopolitan London, to draw much attention. Besides, the placards of +the evening papers were blazoned with such announcements as this: + + A RED INDIAN GIRL + MARRIED INTO + AN ENGLISH COUNTY FAMILY. + +Some one had telegraphed particulars--distorted particulars--over from +Liverpool, and all the evening sheets had their portion of extravagance +and sensation. General Armour became a little more erect and austere as +he caught sight of these placards, and Mrs. Armour groaned inwardly; but +their faces were inscrutable, and they quietly conducted their charge, +minus her blanket, to the train which was to take them to St. Albans, and +were soon wheeling homeward. + +At Euston they parted with Lambert and Mrs. Townley, who quite simply and +conventionally bade good-bye to them and their Indian daughter-in-law. +Lali had grown to like Mrs. Townley, and when they parted she spoke a few +words quickly in her own tongue, and then immediately was confused, +because she remembered that she could not be understood. But presently +she said in halting English that the face of her white friend was good, +and she hoped that she would come one time and sit beside her in her +wigwam, for she would be sad till her husband travelled to her. + +Mrs. Townley made some polite reply in simple English, pressed the girl's +hand sympathetically, and hurried away. Before she parted from Mr. +Lambert, however, she said, with a pretty touch of cynicism: "I think I +see Marion Armour listening to her sister-in-law issue invitations to her +wigwam. I am afraid I should be rather depressed myself if I had to be +sisterly to a wigwam lady." + +"But I say, Mrs. Townley," rejoined Lambert seriously, as he loitered at +the steps of her carriage, "I shouldn't be surprised if my Lady Wigwam-- +a rather apt and striking title, by the way--turned out better than we +think. She carried herself rippingly without the blanket, and I never +saw a more beautiful hand in my life--but one," he added, as his fingers +at that moment closed on hers, and held them tightly, in spite of the +indignant little effort at withdrawal. "She may yet be able to give them +all points in dignity and that kind of thing, and pay Master Frank back +in his own coin. I do not see, after all, that he is the martyr." + +Lambert's voice got softer, for he still held Mrs. Townley's fingers, the +footman not having the matter in his eye,--and then he spoke still more +seriously on sentimental affairs of his own, in which he evidently hoped +she would take some interest. Indeed, it is hard to tell how far the +case might have been pushed if she had not suddenly looked a little +forbidding and imperious. For even people of no notable height, with +soft features, dark brown eyes, and a delightful little laugh, may appear +rather regal at times. Lambert did not quite understand why she should +take this attitude. If he had been as keen regarding his own affairs of +the affections as in the case of Frank Armour and his Indian bride, he +had known that every woman has in her mind the occasion when she should +and when she should not be wooed, and nothing disappoints her more than a +declaration at a time which is not her time. If it does not fall out as +she wishes it, retrospect, a dear thing to a woman, is spoiled. Many a +man has been sent to the right-about because he has ventured his proposal +at the wrong time. What would have occurred to Lambert it is hard to +tell; but he saw that something was wrong, and stopped in time. + +When General Armour and his party reached Greyhope it was late in the +evening. The girl seemed tired and confused by the events of the day, +and did as she was directed, indifferently, limply. But when they +entered the gates of Greyhope and travelled up the long avenue of limes, +she looked round her somewhat eagerly, and drew a long sigh, maybe of +relief or pleasure. She presently stretched out a hand almost +caressingly to the thick trees and the grass, and said aloud: "Oh, the +beautiful trees and the long grass!" There was a whirr of birds' wings +among the branches, and then, presently, there rose from a distance the +sweet, gurgling whistle of the nightingale. A smile as of reminiscence +crossed her face. Then she said, as if to herself: "It is the same. +I shall not die. I hear the birds' wings, and one is singing. It is +pleasant to sleep in the long grass when the nights are summer, and to +hang your cradle in the trees." + +She had asked for her own blanket, refusing a rug, when they left +St. Albans, and it had been given to her. She drew it about her now +with a feeling of comfort, and seemed to lose the horrible sense of +strangeness which had almost convulsed her when she was put into the +carriage at the railway station. Her reserve had hidden much of what +she really felt; but the drive through the limes had shown General Armour +and his wife that they had to do with a nature having capacities for +sensitive feeling; which, it is sometimes thought, is only the +prerogative of certain well-bred civilisations. + +But it was impossible that they should yet, or for many a day, feel any +sense of kinship with this aboriginal girl. Presently the carriage drew +up to the doorway, which was instantly opened to them. A broad belt of +light streamed out upon the stone steps. Far back in the hall stood +Marion, one hand upon the balustrade of the staircase, the other tightly +held at her side, as if to nerve herself for the meeting. The eyes of +the Indian girl pierced the light, and, as if by a strange instinct, +found those of Marion, even before she left the carriage. Lali felt +vaguely that here was her possible enemy. As she stepped out of the +carriage, General Armour's hand under her elbow to assist her, she drew +her blanket something more closely about her, and so proceeded up the +steps. The composure of the servants was, in the circumstances, +remarkable. It needed to have been, for the courage displayed by Lali's +two new guardians during the day almost faltered at the threshold of +their own home. Any sign of surprise or amusement on the part of the +domestics would have given them some painful moments subsequently. But +all was perfectly decorous. Marion still stood motionless, almost dazed, +The group advanced into the hall, and there paused, as if waiting for +her. + +At that moment Richard came out of the study at her right hand, took her +arm, and said quietly: "Come along, Marion. Let us be as brave as our +father and mother." + +She gave a hard little gasp and seemed to awake as from a dream. She +quickly glided forwards ahead of him, kissed her mother and father almost +abruptly, then turned to the young wife with a scrutinising eye. +"Marion," said her father, "this is your sister." Marion stood +hesitating, confused. + +"Marion, dear," repeated her mother ceremoniously, "this is your +brother's wife.--Lali, this is your husband's sister, Marion." + +Mackenzie translated the words swiftly to the girl, and her eyes flashed +wide. Then in a low voice she said in English: "Yes, Marion, How!" + +It is probable that neither Marion nor any one present knew quite the +meaning of 'How', save Richard, and he could not suppress a smile, it +sounded so absurd and aboriginal. But at this exclamation Marion once +more came to herself. She could not possibly go so far as her mother did +at the dock and kiss this savage, but, with a rather sudden grasp of the +hand, she said, a little hysterically, for her brain was going round like +a wheel,--"Wo-won't you let me take your blanket?" and forthwith laid +hold of it with tremulous politeness. + +The question sounded, for the instant, so ludicrous to Richard that, in +spite of the distressing situation, he had to choke back a laugh. Years +afterwards, if he wished for any momentary revenge upon Marion (and he +had a keen sense of wordy retaliation), he simply said: "Wo-won't you let +me take your blanket?" + +Of course the Indian girl did not understand, but she submitted to the +removal of this uncommon mantle, and stood forth a less trying sight to +Marion's eyes; for, as we said before, her buckskin costume set off +softly the good outlines of her form. + +The Indian girl's eyes wandered from Marion to Richard. They wandered +from anxiety, doubt, and a bitter kind of reserve, to cordiality, +sympathy, and a grave kind of humour. Instantly the girl knew that +she had in eccentric Richard Armour a frank friend. Unlike as he was +to his brother, there was still in their eyes the same friendliness and +humanity. That is, it was the same look that Frank carried when he first +came to her father's lodge. + +Richard held out his hand with a cordial little laugh and said: "Ah, ah, +very glad, very glad! Just in time for supper. Come along. How is +Frank, eh? how is Frank? Just so; just so. Pleasant journey, I +suppose?" He shook her hand warmly three or four times, and, as he held +it, placed his left hand over it and patted it patriarchally, as was his +custom with all the children and all the old ladies that he knew. + +"Richard," said his mother, in a studiously neutral voice, "you might see +about the wine." + +Then Richard appeared to recover himself, and did as he was requested, +but not until his brother's wife had said to him in English, as they +courteously drew her towards the staircase: "Oh, my brother Richard, +How!" + +But the first strain and suspense were now over for the family, and it +is probable that never had they felt such relief as when they sat down +behind closed doors in their own rooms for a short respite, while the +Indian girl was closeted alone with Mackenzie and a trusted maid, in what +she called her wigwam. + + + + +CHAPTER V + +AN AWKWARD HALF-HOUR + +It is just as well, perhaps, that the matter had become notorious. +Otherwise the Armours had lived in that unpleasant condition of being +constantly "discovered." It was simply a case of aiming at absolute +secrecy, which had been frustrated by Frank himself, or bold and +unembarrassed acknowledgment and an attempt to carry things off with +a high hand. The latter course was the only one possible. It had +originally been Richard's idea, appropriated by General Armour, and +accepted by Mrs. Armour and Marion with what grace was possible. The +publication of the event prepared their friends, and precluded the +necessity for reserve. What the friends did not know was whether they +ought or ought not to commiserate the Armours. It was a difficult +position. A death, an accident, a lost reputation, would have been easy +to them; concerning these there could be no doubt. But an Indian +daughter-in-law, a person in moccasins, was scarcely a thing to be +congratulated upon; and yet sympathy and consolation might be much +misplaced; no one could tell how the Armours would take it. For even +their closest acquaintances knew what kind of delicate hauteur was +possible to them. Even the "'centric" Richard, who visited the cottages +of the poor, carrying soup and luxuries of many kinds, accompanying them +with the most wholesome advice a single man ever gave to families and the +heads of families, whose laugh was so cheery and spontaneous,--and face +so uncommonly grave and sad at times,--had a faculty for manner. With +astonishing suddenness he could raise insurmountable barriers; and +people, not of his order, who occasionally presumed on his simplicity of +life and habits, found themselves put distinctly ill at ease by a quiet, +curious look in his eye. No man was ever more the recluse and at the +same time the man of the world. He had had his bitter little comedy of +life, but it was different from that of his brother Frank. It was buried +very deep; not one of his family knew of it: Edward Lambert, and one or +two others who had good reason never to speak of it, were the only +persons possessing his secret. + +But all England knew of Frank's mesalliance. And the question was, What +would people do? They very properly did nothing at first. They waited +to see how the Armours would act: they did not congratulate; they did not +console; that was left to those papers which chanced to resent General +Armour's politics, and those others which were emotional and sensational +on every subject--particularly so where women were concerned. + +It was the beginning of the season, but the Armours had decided that they +would not go to town. That is, the general and his wife were not going. +They felt that they ought to be at Greyhope with their daughter-in-law +--which was to their credit. Regarding Marion they had nothing to say. +Mrs. Armour inclined to her going to town for the season, to visit Mrs. +Townley, who had thoughtfully written to her, saying that she was very +lonely, and begging Mrs. Armour to let her come, if she would. She said +that of course Marion would see much of her people in town just the same. +Mrs. Townley was a very clever and tactful woman. + +She guessed that General Armour and his wife were not likely to come to +town, but that must not appear, and the invitation should be on a +different basis--as it was. + +It is probable that Marion saw through the delicate plot, but that did +not make her like Mrs. Townley less. These little pieces of art make +life possible, these tender fictions! + +Marion was, however, not in good humour; she was nervous and a little +petulant. She had a high-strung temperament, a sensitive perception of +the fitness of things, and a horror of what was gauche; and she would, in +brief, make a rather austere person if the lines of life did not run in +her favour. She had something of Frank's impulsiveness and temper; it +would have been a great blessing to her if she had had a portion of +Richard's philosophical humour also. She was at a point of tension--her +mother and Richard could see that. She was anxious--though for the world +she would not have had it thought so--regarding Captain Vidall. She had +never cared for anybody but him; it was possible she never would. But he +did not know this, and she was not absolutely sure that his evident but +as yet informal love would stand this strain--which shows how people very +honourable and perfect-minded in themselves may allow a large margin to +other people who are presumably honourable and perfect-minded also. +There was no engagement between them, and he was not bound in any way, +and could, therefore, without slashing the hem of the code, retire +without any apology; but they had had that unspoken understanding which +most people who love each other show even before a word of declaration +has passed their lips. If he withdrew because of this scandal there +might be some awkward hours for Frank Armour's wife at Greyhope; but, +more than that, there would be a very hard-hearted young lady to play her +part in the deceitful world; she would be as merciless as she could be. +Naturally, being young, she exaggerated the importance of the event, and +brooded on it. It was different with her father and mother. They were +shocked and indignant at first, but when the first scene had been faced +they began to make the best of things all round. That is, they proceeded +at once to turn the North American Indian into a European--a matter of no +little difficulty. A governess was discussed; but General Armour did not +like the idea, and Richard opposed it heartily. She must be taught +English and educated, and made possible in "Christian clothing," as Mrs. +Armour put it. Of the education they almost despaired--all save Richard; +time, instruction, vanity, and a dressmaker might do much as to the +other. + +The evening of her arrival, Lali would not, with any urging, put on +clothes of Marion's which had been sent in to her. And the next morning +it was still the same. + +She came into the breakfast-room dressed still in buckskin and moccasins, +and though the grease had been taken out of her hair it was still combed +flat. Mrs. Armour had tried to influence her through Mackenzie, but to +no purpose. She was placidly stubborn. + +It had been unwisely told her by Mackenzie that they were Marion's +clothes. They scarcely took in the fact that the girl had pride, that +she was the daughter of a chief, and a chieftainess herself, and that it +was far from happy to offer her Marion's clothes to wear. + +Now, Richard, when he was a lad, had been on a journey to the South Seas, +and had learned some of the peculiarities of the native mind, and he did +not suppose that American Indians differed very much from certain well- +bred Polynesians in little matters of form and good taste. When his +mother told him what had occurred before Lali entered the breakfast-room, +he went directly to what he believed was the cause, and advised tact with +conciliation. He also pointed out that Lali was something taller than +Marion, and that she might be possessed of that general trait of +humanity-vanity. Mrs. Armour had not yet got used to thinking of the +girl in another manner than an intrusive being of a lower order, who was +there to try their patience, but also to do their bidding. She had yet +to grasp the fact that, being her son's wife, she must have, therefore, a +position in the house, exercising a certain authority over the servants, +who, to Mrs. Armour, at first seemed of superior stuff. But Richard said +to her: "Mother, I fancy you don't quite grasp the position. The girl is +the daughter of a chief, and the descendant of a family of chiefs, +perhaps through many generations. In her own land she has been used to +respect, and has been looked up to pretty generally. Her garments are, +I fancy, considered very smart in the Hudson's Bay country; and a finely +decorated blanket like hers is expensive up there. You see, we have to +take the thing by comparison; so please give the girl a chance." + +And Mrs. Armour answered wearily, "I suppose you are right, Richard; you +generally are in the end, though why you should be I do not know, for you +never see anything of the world any more, and you moon about among the +cottagers. I suppose it's your native sense and the books you read." + +Richard laughed softly, but there was a queer ring in the laugh, and he +came over stumblingly and put his arm round his mother's shoulder. +"Never mind how I get such sense as I have, mother; I have so much time +to think, it would be a wonder if I hadn't some. But I think we had +better try to study her, and coax her along, and not fob her off as a +very inferior person, or we shall have our hands full in earnest. My +opinion is, she has got that which will save her and us too--a very high +spirit, which only needs opportunity to develop into a remarkable thing; +and, take my word for it, mother, if we treat her as a chieftainess, or +princess, or whatever she is, and not simply as a dusky person, we shall +come off better and she will come off better in the long run. She is not +darker than a Spaniard, anyhow." At this point Marion entered the room, +and her mother rehearsed briefly to her what their talk had been. Marion +had had little sleep, and she only lifted her eyebrows at them at first. +She was in little mood for conciliation. She remembered all at once that +at supper the evening before her sister-in-law had said How! to the +butler, and had eaten the mayonnaise with a dessert spoon. But +presently, because she saw they waited for her to speak, she said, +with a little flutter of maliciousness: "Wouldn't it be well for Richard- +-he has plenty of time, and we are also likely to have it now +--to put us all through a course of instruction for the training of +chieftainesses? And when do you think she will be ready for a drawing- +room--Her Majesty Queen Victoria's, or ours?" + +"Marion!" said Mrs. Armour severely; but Richard came round to her, and, +with his fresh, child-like humour, put his arm round her waist and added +"Marion, I'd be willing to bet--if I were in the habit of betting--my +shaky old pins here against a lock of your hair that you may present her +at any drawing-room--ours or Queen Victoria's--in two years, if we go at +it right; and it would serve Master Frank very well if we turned her out +something, after all." + +To which Mrs. Armour responded almost eagerly: "I wish it were only +possible, Richard. And what you say is true, I suppose, that she is +of rank in her own country, whatever value that may have." + +Richard saw his advantage. "Well, mother," he said, "a chieftainess is a +chieftainess, and I don't know but to announce her as such, and--" + +"And be proud of it, as it were," put in Marion, "and pose her, and make +her a prize--a Pocahontas, wasn't it?--and go on pretending world without +end!" Marion's voice was still slightly grating, but there was in it too +a faint sound of hope. "Perhaps," she said to herself, "Richard is +right." + +At this point the door opened and Lali entered, shown in by Colvin, her +newly-appointed maid, and followed by Mackenzie, and, as we said, dressed +still in her heathenish garments. She had a strong sense of dignity, for +she stood still and waited. Perhaps nothing could have impressed Marion +more. Had Lali been subservient simply, an entirely passive, +unintelligent creature, she would probably have tyrannised over her in +a soft, persistent fashion, and despised her generally. But Mrs. Armour +and Marion saw that this stranger might become very troublesome indeed, +if her temper were to have play. They were aware of capacities for +passion in those dark eyes, so musing yet so active in expression, which +moved swiftly from one object to another and then suddenly became +resolute. + +Both mother and daughter came forward, and held out their hands, wishing +her a pleasant good-morning, and were followed by Richard, and +immediately by General Armour, who had entered soon after her. She had +been keen enough to read (if a little vaguely) behind the scenes, and her +mind was wakening slowly to the peculiarity of the position she occupied. +The place awed her, and had broken her rest by perplexing her mind, and +she sat down to the breakfast-table with a strange hunted look in her +face. But opposite to her was a window opening to the ground, and beyond +it were the limes and beeches and a wide perfect sward and far away a +little lake, on which swans and wild fowl fluttered. Presently, as she +sat silent, eating little, her eyes lifted to the window. They flashed +instantly, her face lighted up with a weird kind of charm, and suddenly +she got to her feet with Indian exclamations on her lips, and, as if +unconscious of them all, went swiftly to the window and out of it, waving +her hands up and down once or twice to the trees and the sunlight. + +"What did she say?" said Mrs. Armour, rising with the others. + +"She said," replied Mackenzie, as she hurried towards the window, "that +they were her beautiful woods, and there were wild birds flying and +swimming in the water, as in her own country." + +By this time all were at the window, Richard arriving last, and the +Indian girl turned on them, her body all quivering with excitement, +laughed a low, bird-like laugh, and then, clapping her hands above her +head, she swung round and ran like a deer towards the lake, shaking her +head back as an animal does when fleeing from his pursuers. She would +scarcely have been recognised as the same placid, speechless woman in a +blanket who sat with folded hands day after day on the Aphrodite. + +The watchers turned and looked at each other in wonder. Truly, their +task of civilising a savage would not lack in interest. The old general +was better pleased, however, at this display of activity and excitement +than at yesterday's taciturnity. He loved spirit, even if it had to be +subdued, and he thought on the instant that he might possibly come to +look upon the fair savage as an actual and not a nominal daughter-in-law. +He had a keen appreciation of courage, and he thought he saw in her face, +as she turned upon them, a look of defiance or daring, and nothing could +have got at his nature quicker. If the case had not been so near to his +own hearthstone he would have chuckled. As it was, he said good- +humouredly that Mackenzie and Marion should go and bring her back. +But Mackenzie was already at that duty. Mrs. Armour had had the presence +of mind to send for Colvin; but presently, when the general spoke, she +thought it better that Marion should go, and counselled returning to +breakfast and not making the matter of too much importance. This they +did, Richard very reluctantly; while Marion, rather pleased than not at +the spirit shown by the strange girl, ran away over the grass towards the +lake, where Lali had now stopped. There was a little bridge at one point +where the lake narrowed, and Lali, evidently seeing it all at once, went +towards it, and ran up on it, standing poised above the water about the +middle of it. For an instant an unpleasant possibility came into +Marion's mind: suppose the excited girl intended suicide! She shivered +as she thought of it, and yet--! She put that horribly cruel and selfish +thought away from her with an indignant word at herself. She had passed +Mackenzie, and came first to the lake. Here she slackened, and waved her +hand playfully to the girl, so as not to frighten her; and then with a +forced laugh came up panting on the bridge, and was presently by Lali's +side. Lali eyed her a little furtively, but, seeing that Marion was much +inclined to be pleasant, she nodded to her, said some Indian words +hastily, and spread out her hands towards the water. As she did so, +Marion noticed again the beauty of those hands and the graceful character +of the gesture, so much so that she forgot the flat hair and the unstayed +body, and the rather broad feet, and the delicate duskiness, which had so +worked upon her in imagination and in fact the evening before. She put +her hand kindly on that long slim hand stretched out beside her, and, +because she knew not what else to speak, and because the tongue is very +perverse at times,--saying the opposite of what is expected,--she herself +blundered out, "How! How! Lali." + +Perhaps Lali was as much surprised at the remark as Marion herself, and +certainly very much more delighted. The sound of those familiar words, +spoken by accident as they were, opened the way to a better +understanding, as nothing else could possibly have done. Marion was +annoyed with herself, and yet amused too. If her mind had been perfectly +assured regarding Captain Vidall, it is probable that then and there a +peculiar, a genial, comradeship would have been formed. As it was, +Marion found this little event more endurable than she expected. She +also found that Lali, when she laughed in pleasant acknowledgment of that +How! had remarkably white and regular teeth. Indeed, Marion Armour +began to discover some estimable points in the appearance of her savage +sister-in-law. Marion remarked to herself that Lali might be a rather +striking person, if she were dressed, as her mother said, in Christian +garments, could speak the English language well--and was somebody else's +sister-in-law. + +At this point Mackenzie came breathlessly to the bridge, and called out a +little sharply to Lali, rebuking her. In this Mackenzie made a mistake; +for not only did Lali draw herself up with considerable dignity, but +Marion, noticing the masterful nature of the tone, instantly said: +"Mackenzie, you must remember that you are speaking to Mrs. Francis +Armour, and that her position in General Armour's house is the same as +mine. I hope it is not necessary to say anything more, Mackenzie." + +Mackenzie flushed. She was a sensible woman, she knew that she had done +wrong, and she said very promptly: "I am very sorry, miss. I was +flustered, and I expect I haven't got used to speaking to--to Mrs. Armour +as I'll be sure to do in the future." + +As she spoke, two or three deer came trotting out of the beeches down +to the lake side. If Lali was pleased and excited before, she was +overwhelmed now. Her breath came in quick little gasps; she laughed; she +tossed her hands; she seemed to become dizzy with delight; and presently, +as if this new link with, and reminder of, her past, had moved her as one +little expects a savage heart to be moved, two tears gathered in her +eyes, then slid down her cheek unheeded, and dried there in the sunlight, +as she still gazed at the deer. Marion, at first surprised, was now +touched, as she could not have thought it possible concerning this wild +creature, and her hand went out and caught Lali's gently. At this +genuine act of sympathy, instinctively felt by Lali, the stranger in a +strange land, husbanded and yet a widow, there came a flood of tears, +and, dropping on her knees, she leaned against the low railing of the +bridge and wept silently. So passionless was her grief it seemed the +more pathetic, and Marion dropped on her knees beside her, put her arm +round her shoulder, and said: "Poor girl! Poor girl!" + +At that Lali caught her hand, and held it, repeating after her the words: +"Poor girl! Poor girl!" + +She did not quite understand them, but she remembered that once just +before she parted from her husband at the Great Lakes he had said those +very words. If the fates had apparently given things into Frank Armour's +hands when he sacrificed this girl to his revenge, they were evidently +inclined to play a game which would eventually defeat his purpose, wicked +as it had been in effect if not in absolute motive. What the end of this +attempt to engraft the Indian girl upon the strictest convention of +English social life would have been had her introduction not been at +Greyhope, where faint likenesses to her past surrounded her, it is hard +to conjecture. But, from present appearances, it would seem that Richard +Armour was not wholly a false prophet; for the savage had shown herself +that morning to possess, in their crudeness, some striking qualities of +character. Given character, many things are possible, even to those who +are not of the elect. + +This was the beginning of better things. Lali seemed to the Armours not +quite so impossible now. Had she been of the very common order of Indian +"pure and simple," the task had resolved itself into making a common +savage into a very common European. But, whatever Lali was, it was +abundantly evident that she must be reckoned with at all points, and +that she was more likely to become a very startling figure in the Armour +household than a mere encumbrance to be blushed for, whose eternal +absence were preferable to her company. + +Years after that first morning Marion caught herself shuddering at the +thought that came to her when she saw Lali hovering on the bridge. +Whatever Marion's faults were, she had a fine dislike of anything that +seemed unfair. She had not ridden to hounds for nothing. She had at +heart the sportsman's instinct. It was upon this basis, indeed, that +Richard appealed to her in the first trying days of Lali's life among +them. To oppose your will to Marion on the basis of superior knowledge +was only to turn her into a rebel; and a very effective rebel she made; +for she had a pretty gift at the retort courteous, and she could take as +much, and as well, as she gave. She rebelled at first at assisting in +Lali's education, though by fits and starts she would teach her English +words, and help her to form long sentences, and was, on the whole, quite +patient. But Lali's real instructors were Mrs. Armour and Richard--, +her best, Richard. + +The first few days she made but little progress, for everything was +strange to her, and things made her giddy--the servants, the formal +routine, the handsome furnishings, Marion's music, the great house, the +many precise personal duties set for her, to be got through at stated +times; and Mrs. Armour's rather grand manner. But there was the relief +to this, else the girl had pined terribly for her native woods and +prairies; this was the park, the deer, the lake, the hares, and birds. +While she sat saying over after Mrs. Armour words and phrases in English, +or was being shown how she must put on and wear the clothes which a +dressmaker from Regent Street had been brought to make, her eyes would +wander dreamily to the trees and the lake and the grass. They soon +discovered that she would pay no attention and was straightway difficult +to teach if she was not placed where she could look out on the park. +They had no choice, for though her resistance was never active it was +nevertheless effective. + +Presently she got on very swiftly with Richard. For he, with instinct +worthy of a woman, turned their lessons upon her own country and Frank. +This cost him something, but it had its reward. There was no more +listlessness. Previously Frank's name had scarcely been spoken to her. +Mrs. Armour would have hours of hesitation and impotent regret before she +brought herself to speak of her son to his Indian wife. Marion tried to +do it a few times and failed; the general did it with rather a forced +voice and manner, because he saw that his wife was very tender upon the +point. But Richard, who never knew self-consciousness, spoke freely of +Frank when he spoke at all; and it was seeing Lali's eyes brighten and +her look earnestly fixed on him when he chanced to mention Frank's name, +that determined him on his new method of instruction. It had its +dangers, but he had calculated them all. The girl must be educated at +all costs. The sooner that occurred the sooner would she see her own +position and try to adapt herself to her responsibilities, and face the +real state of her husband's attitude towards her. + +He succeeded admirably. Striving to tell him about her past life, and +ready to talk endlessly about her husband, of his prowess in the hunt, +of his strength and beauty, she also strove to find English words for the +purpose, and Richard supplied them with uncommon willingness. He +humoured her so far as to learn many Indian words and phrases, but he was +chary of his use of them, and tried hard to make her appreciative of her +new life and surroundings. He watched her waking slowly to an +understanding of the life, and of all that it involved. It gave him a +kind of fear, too, because she was sensitive, and there was the possible +danger of her growing disheartened or desperate, and doing some mad thing +in the hour that she wakened to the secret behind her marriage. + +His apprehensions were not without cause. For slowly there came into +Lali's mind the element of comparison. She became conscious of it one +day when some neighbouring people called at Greyhope. Mrs. Armour, in +her sense of duty, which she had rigidly set before her, introduced Lali +into the drawing-room. The visitors veiled their curiosity and said some +pleasant casual things to the young wife, but she saw the half-curious, +half-furtive glances, she caught a sidelong glance and smile, and when +they were gone she took to looking at herself in a mirror, a thing she +could scarcely be persuaded to do before. She saw the difference between +her carriage and theirs, her manner of wearing her clothes and theirs, +her complexion and theirs. She exaggerated the difference. She brooded +on it. Now she sat downcast and timid, and hunted in face, as on the +first evening she came; now she appeared restless and excited. + +If Mrs. Armour was not exactly sympathetic with her, she was quiet and +forbearing, and General Armour, like Richard, tried to draw her out--but +not on the same subjects. He dwelt upon what she did; the walks she took +in the park, those hours in the afternoon when, with Mackenzie or Colvin, +she vanished into the beeches, making friends with the birds and deer and +swans. But most of all she loved to go to the stables. She was, +however, asked not to go unless Richard or General Armour was with her. +She loved horses, and these were a wonder to her. She had never known +any but the wild, ungroomed Indian pony, on which she had ridden in every +fashion and over every kind of country. Mrs. Armour sent for a riding- +master, and had riding-costumes made for her. It was intended that she +should ride every day as soon as she seemed sufficiently presentable. +This did not appear so very far off, for she improved daily in +appearance. Her hair was growing finer, and was made up in the modest +prevailing fashion; her skin, no longer exposed to an inclement climate, +and subject to the utmost care, was smoother and fairer; her feet, +encased in fine, well-made boots, looked much smaller; her waist was +shaped to fashion, and she was very straight and lissom. So many things +she did jarred on her relatives, that they were not fully aware of the +great improvement in her appearance. Even Richard admitted her trying at +times. + +Marion went up to town to stay with Mrs. Townley, and there had to face a +good deal of curiosity. People looked at her sometimes as if it was she +and not Lali that was an Indian. But she carried things off bravely +enough, and answered those kind inquiries, which one's friends make when +we are in embarrassing situations, with answers so calm and pleasant that +people did not know what to think. + +"Yes," she said, in reply to Lady Balwood, "her sister-in-law might be in +town later in the year, perhaps before the season was over: she could not +tell. She was tired after her long voyage, and she preferred the quiet +of Greyhope; she was fond of riding and country-life; but still she would +come to town for a time." And so on. + +"Ah, dear me, how charming! And doesn't she resent her husband's +absence--during the honeymoon? or did the honeymoon occur before she came +over to England?" And Lady Balwood tried to say it all playfully, and +certainly said it something loudly. She had daughters. + +But Marion was perfectly prepared. Her face did not change expression. +"Yes, they had had their honeymoon on the prairies; Frank was so +fascinated with the life and the people. He had not come home at once, +because he was making she did not know how great a fortune over there in +investments, and so Mrs. Armour came on before him, and, of course, as +soon as he could get away from his business, he would follow his wife." + +And though Marion smiled, her heart was very hot, and she could have +slain Lady Balwood in her tracks. Lady Balwood then nodded a little +patronisingly, and babbled that "she hoped so much to see Mrs. Francis +Armour. She must be so very interesting, the papers said so much about +her." + +Now, while this conversation was going on, some one stood not far behind +Marion, who seemed much interested in her and what she said. But Marion +did not see this person. She was startled presently, however, to hear a +strong voice say softly over her shoulder: "What a charming woman Lady +Balwood is! And so ingenuous!" + +She was grateful, tremulous, proud. Why had he--Captain Vidall--kept out +of the way all these weeks, just when she needed him most, just when he +should have played the part of a man? Then she was feeling twinges at +the heart, too. She had seen Lady Agnes Martling that afternoon, and had +noticed how the news had worn on her. She felt how much better it had +been had Frank come quietly home and married her, instead of doing the +wild, scandalous thing that was making so many heart-burnings. A few +minutes ago she had longed for a chance to say something delicately acid +to Lady Haldwell, once Julia Sherwood, who was there. Now there was a +chance to give her bitter spirit tongue. She was glad--she dared not +think how glad--to hear that voice again; but she was angry too, and he +should suffer for it--the more so because she recognised in the tone, and +afterwards in his face, that he was still absorbingly interested in her. +There was a little burst of thanksgiving in her heart, and then she +prepared a very notable commination service in her mind. + +This meeting had been deftly arranged by Mrs. Townley, with the help of +Edward Lambert, who now held her fingers with a kind of vanity of +possession whenever he bade her good-bye or met her. Captain Vidall had, +in fact, been out of the country, had only been back a week, and had only +heard of Frank Armour's mesalliance from Lambert at an At Home forty- +eight hours before. Mrs. Townley guessed what was really at the bottom +of Marion's occasional bitterness, and, piecing together many little +things dropped casually by her friend, had come to the conclusion that +the happiness of two people was at stake. + +When Marion shook hands with Captain Vidall she had herself exceedingly +well under control. She looked at him in slight surprise, and casually +remarked that they had not chanced to meet lately in the run of small- +and-earlies. She appeared to be unconscious that he had been out of the +country, and also that she had been till very recently indeed at +Greyhope. He hastened to assure her that he had been away, and to lay +siege to this unexpected barrier. He knew all about Frank's affair, and, +though it troubled him, he did not see why it should make any difference +in his regard for Frank's sister. Fastidious as he was in all things, he +was fastidiously deferential. Not an exquisite, he had all that vanity +as to appearance so usual with the military man; himself of the most +perfect temper and sweetness of manner and conduct, the unusual disturbed +him. Not possessed of a vivid imagination, he could scarcely conjure up +this Indian bride at Greyhope. + +But face to face with Marion Armour he saw what troubled his mind, +and he determined he would not meet her irony with irony, her assumed +indifference with indifference. He had learned one of the most important +lessons of life--never to quarrel with a woman. Whoever has so far erred +has been foolish indeed. It is the worst of policy, to say nothing of +its being the worst of art; and life should never be without art. It is +absurd to be perfectly natural; anything, anybody can be that. Well, +Captain Hume Vidall was something of an artist, more, however, in +principle than by temperament. He refused to recognise the rather +malicious adroitness with which Marion turned his remarks again upon +himself, twisted out of all semblance. He was very patient. He inquired +quietly, and as if honestly interested, about Frank, and said--because he +thought it safest as well as most reasonable--that, naturally, they must +have been surprised at his marrying a native; but he himself had seen +some such marriages turn out very well--in Japan, India, the South Sea +Islands, and Canada. He assumed that Marion's sister-in-law was +beautiful, and then disarmed Marion by saying that he thought of going +down to Greyhope immediately, to call on General Armour and Mrs. Armour, +and wondered if she was going back before the end of the season. + +Quick as Marion was, this was said so quietly that she did not quite see +the drift of it. She had intended staying in London to the end of the +season, not because she enjoyed it, but because she was determined to +face Frank's marriage at every quarter, and have it over, once for all, +so far as herself was concerned. But now, taken slightly aback, she +said, almost without thinking, that she would probably go back soon--she +was not quite sure; but certainly her father and mother would be glad to +see Captain Vidall at any time. + +Then, without any apparent relevancy, he asked her if Mrs. Frank Armour +still wore her Indian costume. In any one else the question had seemed +impertinent; in him it had a touch of confidence, of the privilege of +close friendship. Then he said, with a meditative look and a very calm, +retrospective voice, that he was once very much in love with a native +girl in India, and might have become permanently devoted to her, were it +not for the accident of his being ordered back to England summarily. + +This was a piece of news which cut two ways. In the first place it +lessened the extraordinary character of Frank's marriage, and it roused +in her an immediate curiosity--which a woman always feels in the past +"affairs" of her lover, or possible lover. Vidall did not take pains to +impress her with the fact that the matter occurred when he was almost a +boy; and it was when her earnest inquisition had drawn from him, bit by +bit, the circumstances of the case, and she had forgotten many parts of +her commination service and to preserve an effective neutrality in tone, +that she became aware he was speaking ancient history. Then it was too +late to draw back. + +They had threaded their way through the crowd into the conservatory, +where they were quite alone, and there, with only a little pyramid of +hydrangeas between them, which she could not help but notice chimed well +with the colour of her dress, he dropped his voice a little lower, and +then suddenly said, his eyes hard on her: "I want your permission to go +to Greyhope." + +The tone drew her eyes hastily to his, and, seeing, she dropped them +again. Vidall had a strong will, and, what is of more consequence, a +peculiarly attractive voice. It had a vibration which made some of his +words organ-like in sound. She felt the influence of it. She said a +little faintly, her fingers toying with a hydrangea: "I am afraid I do +not understand. There is no reason why you should not go to Greyhope +without my permission." + +"I cannot go without it," he persisted. "I am waiting for my commission +from you." + +She dropped her hand from the flower with a little impatient motion. She +was tired, her head ached, she wanted to be alone. "Why are you +enigmatical?" she said. Then quickly: "I wish I knew what is in your +mind. You play with words so." + +She scarcely knew what she said. A woman who loves a man very much is +not quick to take in the absolute declaration of that man's love on the +instant; it is too wonderful for her. He felt his check flush with hers, +he drew her look again to his. "Marion! Marion!" he said. That was +all. + +"Oh, hush, some one is coming!" was her quick, throbbing reply. When +they parted a half-hour later, he said to her: "Will you give me my +commission to go to Greyhope?" + +"Oh no, I cannot," she said very gravely; "but come to Greyhope-when I go +back." + +"And when will that be?" he said, smiling, yet a little ruefully too. + +"Please ask Mrs. Townley," she replied; "she is coming also." + +Marion, knew what that commission to go to Greyhope meant. But she +determined that he should see Lali first, before anything irrevocable +was done. She still looked upon Frank's marriage as a scandal. Well, +Captain Vidall should face it in all its crudeness. So, in a week or +less, Marion and Mrs. Townley were in Greyhope. + +Two months had gone since Lali arrived in England, and yet no letter had +come to her, or to any of them, from Frank. Frank's solicitor in London +had written him fully of her arrival, and he had had a reply, with +further instructions regarding money to be placed to General Armour's +credit for the benefit of his wife. Lali, as she became Europeanised, +also awoke to the forms and ceremonies of her new life. She had +overheard Frank's father and mother wondering, and fretting as they +wondered, why they had not received any word from him. General Armour +had even called him a scoundrel, which sent Frank's mother into tears. +Then Lali had questioned Mackenzie and Colvin, for she had increasing +shrewdness, and she began to feel her actual position. She resented +General Armour's imputation, but in her heart she began to pine and +wonder. At times, too, she was fitful, and was not to be drawn out. But +she went on improving in personal appearance and manner and in learning +the English language. Mrs. Townley's appearance marked a change in her. +When they met she suddenly stood still and trembled. When Mrs. Townley +came to her and took her hand and kissed her, she shivered, and then +caught her about the shoulders lightly, but was silent. After a little +she said: "Come--come to my wigwam, and talk with me." + +She said it with a strange little smile, for now she recognised that the +word wigwam was not to be used in her new life. But Mrs. Townley +whispered: "Ask Marion to come too." + +Lali hesitated, and then said, a little maliciously: "Marion, will you +come to my wigwam?" + +Marion ran to her, caught her about the waist, and replied gaily: "Yes, +we will have a pow-wow--is that right--is pow-wow right?" + +The Indian girl shook her head with a pretty vagueness, and vanished with +them. General Armour walked up and down the room briskly, then turned on +his wife and said: "Wife, it was a brutal thing: Frank doesn't deserve to +be--the father of her child." + +But Lali had moods--singular moods. She indulged in one three days after +the arrival of Marion and Mrs. Townley. She had learned to ride with the +side-saddle, and wore her riding-dress admirably. Nowhere did she show +to better advantage. She had taken to riding now with General Armour on +the country roads. On this day Captain Vidall was expected, he having +written to ask that he might come. What trouble Lali had with one of the +servants that morning was never thoroughly explained, but certain it is, +she came to have a crude notion of why Frank Armour married her. The +servant was dismissed duly, but that was after the contre-temps. + +It was late afternoon. Everybody had been busy, because one or two other +guests were expected besides Captain Vidall. Lali had kept to herself, +sending word through Richard that she would not "be English," as she +vaguely put it, that day. She had sent Mackenzie on some mission. She +sat on the floor of her room, as she used to sit on the ground in her +father's lodge. Her head was bowed in her hands, and her arms rested on +her knees. Her body swayed to and fro. Presently all motion ceased. +She became perfectly still. She looked before her as if studying +something. + +Her eyes immediately flashed. She rose quickly to her feet, went to her +wardrobe, and took out her Indian costume and blanket, with which she +could never be induced to part. Almost feverishly she took off the +clothes she wore and hastily threw them from her. Then she put on the +buckskin clothes in which she had journeyed to England, drew down her +hair as she used to wear it, fastened round her waist a long red sash +which had been given her by a governor of the Hudson's Bay Company when +he had visited her father's country, threw her blanket round her +shoulders, and then eyed herself in the great mirror in the room. What +she saw evidently did not please her perfectly, for she stretched out her +hands and looked at them; she shook her head at herself and put her hand +to her cheeks and pinched them, they were not so brown as they once were, +then she thrust out her foot. She drew it back quickly in disdain. +Immediately she caught the fashionable slippers from her feet and threw +them among the discarded garments. She looked at herself again. Still +she was not satisfied, but she threw up her arms, as with a sense of +pleasure and freedom, and laughed at herself. She pushed out her +moccasined foot, tapped the floor with it, nodded towards it, and said a +word or two in her own language. She heard some one in the next room, +possibly Mackenzie. She stepped to the door leading into the hall, +opened it, went out, travelled its length, ran down a back hallway, out +into the park, towards the stables, her blanket, as her hair, flying +behind her. + +She entered the stables, made for a horse that she had ridden much, put a +bridle on him, led him out before any one had seen her, and, catching him +by the mane, suddenly threw herself on him at a bound, and, giving him a +tap with a short whip she had caught up in the stable, headed him for the +main avenue and the open road. Then a stableman saw her and ran after, +but he might as well have tried to follow the wind. He forthwith +proceeded to saddle another horse. Boulter also saw her as she passed +the house, and, running in, told Mrs. Armour and the general. They both +ran to the window and saw dashing down the avenue--a picture out of +Fenimore Cooper; a saddleless horse with a rider whose fingers merely +touched the bridle, riding as on a journey of life and death. + +"My God, it's Lali! She's mad--she's mad! She is striking that horse! +It will bolt! It will kill her!" cried the general. + +Then he rushed for a horse to follow her. Mrs. Armour's hands clasped +painfully. For an instant she had almost the same thought as had Marion +on the first morning of Lali's coming; but that passed, and left her +gazing helplessly after the horse-woman. The flying blanket had +frightened the blooded horse, and he made desperate efforts to fulfil the +general's predictions. + +Lali soon found that she had miscalculated. She was not riding an Indian +pony, but a crazed, high-strung horse. As they flew, she sitting +superbly and tugging at the bridle, the party coming from the railway +station entered the great gate, accompanied by Richard and Marion. In a +moment they sighted this wild pair bearing down upon them with a terrible +swiftness. + +As Marion recognised Lali she turned pale and cried out, rising in her +seat. Instinctively Captain Vidall knew who it was, though he could not +guess the cause of the singular circumstance. He saw that the horse had +bolted, but also that the rider seemed entirely fearless. "Why, in +Heaven's name," he said between his teeth, "doesn't she let go that +blanket!" + +At that moment Lali did let it go, and the horse dashed by them, making +hard for the gate. "Turn the horses round and follow her," said Vidall +to the driver. While this was doing, Marion caught sight of her father +riding hard down the avenue. He passed them, and called to them to hurry +on after him. + +Lali had not the slightest sense of fear, but she knew that the horse had +gone mad. When they passed through the gate and swerved into the road, a +less practised rider would have been thrown. She sat like wax. The pace +was incredible for a mile, and though General Armour rode well, he was +far behind. + +Suddenly a trap appeared in the road in front of them, and the driver, +seeing the runaway, set his horses at right angles to the road. It +served the purpose only to provide another danger. Not far from where +the trap was drawn, and between it and the runaway, was a lane, which +ended at a farmyard in a cul-de-sac. The horse swerved into it, not +slacking its pace, and in the fraction of a minute came to the farmyard. + +But now the fever was in Lali's blood. She did not care whether she +lived or died. A high hedge formed the cul-de-sac. When she saw the +horse slacking she cut it savagely across the head twice with a whip, and +drove him at the green wall. He was of too good make to refuse it, stiff +as it was. He rose to it magnificently, and cleared it; but almost as he +struck the ground squarely, he staggered and fell--the girl beneath him. +He had burst a blood-vessel. The ground was soft and wet; the weight of +the horse prevented her from getting free. She felt its hoof striking in +its death-struggles, and once her shoulder was struck. Instinctively she +buried her face in the mud, and her arms covered her head. + +And then she knew no more. + +When she came to, she was in the carriage within the gates of Greyhope, +and Marion was bending over her. She suddenly tried to lift herself, but +could not. Presently she saw another face--that of General Armour. It +was stern, and yet his eyes were swimming as he looked at her. + +"How!" she said to him--"How!" and fainted again. + + + + + +ETEXT EDITOR'S BOOKMARKS: + +Being young, she exaggerated the importance of the event +His duties were many, or he made them so +Men must have their bad hours alone +Most important lessons of life--never to quarrel with a woman +Sympathy and consolation might be much misplaced +These little pieces of art make life possible +Think of our position +Who never knew self-consciousness +You never can make a scandal less by trying to hide it + + + + + +THE TRANSLATION OF A SAVAGE + +By Gilbert Parker + +Volume 2. + + +VI. THE PASSING OF THE YEARS +VII. A COURT-MARTIAL +VIII. TO EVERY MAN HIS HOUR +IX. THE FAITH OF COMRADES + + + +CHAPTER VI + +THE PASSING OF THE YEARS + +Lali's recovery was not rapid. A change had come upon her. With that +strange ride had gone the last strong flicker of the desire for savage +life in her. She knew now the position she held towards her husband: +that he had never loved her; that she was only an instrument for unworthy +retaliation. So soon as she could speak after her accident, she told +them that they must not write to him and tell him of it. She also made +them promise that they would give him no news of her at all, save that +she was well. They could not refuse to promise; they felt she had the +right to demand much more than that. They had begun to care for her for +herself, and when the months went by, and one day there was a hush about +her room, and anxiety, and then relief, in the faces of all, they came to +care for her still more for the sake of her child. + +As the weeks passed, the fair-haired child grew more and more like his +father; but if Lali thought of her husband they never knew it by anything +she said, for she would not speak of him. She also made them promise +that they would not write to him of the child's birth. Richard, with his +sense of justice, and knowing how much the woman had been wronged, said +that in all this she had done quite right; that Frank, if he had done his +duty after marrying her, should have come with her. And because they all +felt that Richard had been her best friend as well as their own, they +called the child after him. This also was Lali's wish. Coincident with +her motherhood there came to Lali a new purpose. She had not lived with +the Armours without absorbing some of their fine social sense and +dignity. This, added to the native instinct of pride in her, gave her a +new ambition. As hour by hour her child grew dear to her, so hour by +hour her husband grew away from her. She schooled herself against him. +--At times she thought she hated him. She felt she could never forgive +him, but she would prove to him that it was she who had made the mistake +of her life in marrying him; that she had been wronged, not he; and that +his sin would face him with reproach and punishment one day. Richard's +prophecy was likely to come true: she would defeat very perfectly indeed +Frank's intentions. After the child was born, so soon as she was able, +she renewed her studies with Richard and Mrs. Armour. She read every +morning for hours; she rode; she practised all those graceful arts of the +toilet which belong to the social convention; she showed an unexpected +faculty for singing, and practised it faithfully; and she begged Mrs. +Armour and Marion to correct her at every point where correction seemed +necessary. When the child was two years old, they all went to London, +something against Lali's personal feelings, but quite in accord with what +she felt her duty. + +Richard was left behind at Greyhope. For the first time in eighteen +months he was alone with his old quiet duties and recreations. During +that time he had not neglected his pensioners,--his poor, sick, halt, and +blind, but a deeper, larger interest had come into his life in the person +of Lali. During all that time she had seldom been out of his sight, +never out of his influence and tutelage. His days had been full, his +every hour had been given a keen, responsible interest. As if by tacit +consent, every incident or development of Lali's life was influenced by +his judgment and decision. He had been more to her than General Armour, +Mrs. Armour, or Marion. Schooled as he was in all the ways of the +world, he had at the same time a mind as sensitive as a woman's, an +indescribable gentleness, a persuasive temperament. Since, years before, +he had withdrawn from the social world and become a recluse, many of his +finer qualities had gone into an indulgent seclusion. He had once loved +the world and the gay life of London, but some untoward event, coupled +with a radical love of retirement, had sent him into years of isolation +at Greyhope. + +His tutelar relations with Lali had reopened many an old spring +of sensation and experience. Her shy dependency, her innocent +inquisitiveness, had searched out his remotest sympathies. In teaching +her he had himself been re-taught. Before she came he had been satisfied +with the quiet usefulness and studious ease of his life. But in her +presence something of his old youthfulness came back, some reflection of +the ardent hopes of his young manhood. He did not notice the change in +himself. He only knew that his life was very full. He read later at +nights, he rose earlier in the morning. But unconsciously to himself, +he was undergoing a change. The more a man's sympathies and emotions +are active, the less is he the philosopher. It is only when one has +withdrawn from the more personal influence of the emotions that one's +philosophy may be trusted. One may be interested in mankind and still +be philosophical--may be, as it were, the priest and confessor to all +comers. But let one be touched in some vital corner in one's nature, +and the high, faultless impartiality is gone. In proportion as Richard's +interest in Lali had grown, the universal quality of his sympathy had +declined. Man is only man. Not that his benefactions as lord-bountiful +in the parish had grown perfunctory, but the calm detail of his interest +was not so definite. He was the same, yet not the same. + +He was not aware of any difference in himself. He did not know that he +looked younger by ten years. Such is the effect of mere personal +sympathy upon a man's look and bearing. When, therefore, one bright May +morning, the family at Greyhope, himself excluded, was ready to start for +London, he had no thought but that he would drop back into his old silent +life, as it was before Lali came, and his brother's child was born. He +was not conscious that he was very restless that morning; he scarcely was +aware that he had got up two hours earlier than usual. At the breakfast- +table he was cheerful and alert. After breakfast he amused himself in +playing with the child till the carriage was brought round. It was such +a morning as does not come a dozen times a year in England. The sweet, +moist air blew from the meadows and up through the lime trees with a +warm, insinuating gladness. The lawn sloped delightfully away to the +flowered embrasures of the park, and a fragrant abundance of flowers met +the eye and cheered the senses. While Richard loitered on the steps with +the child and its nurse, more excited than he knew, Lali came out and +stood beside him. At the moment Richard was looking into the distance. +He did not hear her when she came. She stood near him for a moment, and +did not speak. Her eyes followed the direction of his look, and idled +tenderly with the prospect before her. She did not even notice the +child. The same thought was in the mind of both--with a difference. +Richard was wondering how any one could choose to change the sweet +dignity of that rural life for the flaring, hurried delights of London +and the season. He had thought this a thousand times, and yet, though he +would have been little willing to acknowledge it, his conviction was not +so impregnable as it had been. + +Mrs. Francis Armour was stepping from the known to the unknown. She was +leaving the precincts of a life in which, socially, she had been born +again. Its sweetness and benign quietness had all worked upon her nature +and origin to change her. In that it was an out-door life, full of +freshness and open-air vigour, it was not antagonistic to her past. Upon +this sympathetic basis had been imposed the conditions of a fine social +decorum. The conditions must still exist. But how would it be when she +was withdrawn from this peaceful activity of nature and set down among +"those garish lights" in Cavendish Square and Piccadilly? She hardly +knew to what she was going as yet. There had been a few social functions +at Greyhope since she had come, but that could give her, after all, but +little idea of the swing and pressure of London life. + +At this moment she was lingering over the scene before her. She was +wondering with the naive wonder of an awakened mind. She had intended +many times of late saying to Richard all the native gratitude she felt; +yet somehow she had never been able to say it. The moment of parting had +come. + +"What are you thinking of, Richard?" she said now. He started and +turned towards her. + +"I hardly know," he answered. "My thoughts were drifting." + +"Richard," she said abruptly," I want to thank you." + +"Thank me for what, Lali?" he questioned. + +"To thank you, Richard, for everything--since I came, over three years +ago." + +He broke out into a soft little laugh, then, with his old good-natured +manner, caught her hand as he did the first night she came to Greyhope, +patted it in a fatherly fashion, and said: + +"It is the wrong way about, Lali; I ought to be thanking you, not you me. +Why, look what a stupid old fogy I was then, toddling about the place +with too much time on my hands, reading a lot and forgetting everything; +and here you came in, gave me something to do, made the little I know of +any use, and ran a pretty gold wire down the rusty fiddle of life. If +there are any speeches of gratitude to be made, they are mine, they are +mine." + +"Richard," she said very quietly and gravely, "I owe you more than I can +ever say--in English. You have taught me to speak in your tongue enough +for all the usual things of life, but one can only speak from the depths +of one's heart in one's native tongue. And see," she added, with a +painful little smile, "how strange it would sound if I were to tell you +all I thought in the language of my people--of my people, whom I shall +never see again. Richard, can you understand what it must be to have a +father whom one is never likely to see again--whom, if one did see again, +something painful would happen? We grow away from people against our +will; we feel the same towards them, but they cannot feel the same +towards us; for their world is in another hemisphere. We want to love +them, and we love, remember, and are glad to meet them again, but they +feel that we are unfamiliar, and, because we have grown different +outwardly, they seem to miss some chord that used to ring. Richard, I-- +I--" She paused. + +"Yes, Lali," he assented--"yes, I understand you so far; but speak out." + +"I am not happy," she said. "I never shall be happy. I have my child, +and that is all I have. I cannot go back to the life in which I was +born; I must go on as I am, a stranger among a strange people, pitied, +suffered, cared for a little--and that is all." + +The nurse had drawn away a little distance with the child. The rest of +the family were making their preparations inside the house. There was no +one near to watch the singular little drama. + +"You should not say that," he added; "we all feel you to be one of us." + +"But all your world does not feel me to be one of them," she rejoined. + +"We shall see about that when you go up to town. You are a bit morbid, +Lali. I don't wonder at your feeling a little shy; but then you will +simply carry things before you--now you take my word for it! For I know +London pretty well." + +She held out her ungloved hands. + +"Do they compare with the white hands of the ladies you know?" she said. + +"They are about the finest hands I have ever seen," he replied. "You +can't see yourself, sister of mine." + +"I do not care very much to see myself," she said. "If I had not a maid +I expect I should look very shiftless, for I don't care to look in a +mirror. My only mirror used to be a stream of water in summer," she +added, "and a corner of a looking-glass got from the Hudson's Bay fort in +the winter." + +"Well, you are missing a lot of enjoyment," he said, "if you do not use +your mirror much. The rest of us can appreciate what you would see +there." + +She reached out and touched his arm. + +"Do you like to look at me?" she questioned, with a strange simple +candour. + +For the first time in many a year, Richard Armour blushed like a girl +fresh from school. The question had come so suddenly, it had gone so +quickly into a sensitive corner of his nature, that he lost command of +himself for the instant, yet had little idea why the command was lost. +He touched the fingers on his arm affectionately. + +"Like to look at you--like to look at you? Why, of course we all like +to look at you. You are very fine and handsome and interesting." + +"Richard," she said, drawing her hands away, "is that why you like to +look at me?" + +He had recovered himself. He laughed in his old hearty way, and said: + +"Yes, yes; why, of course! Come, let us go and see the boy," he added, +taking her arm and hurrying her down the steps. "Come and let us see +Richard Joseph, the pride of all the Armours." + +She moved beside him in a kind of dream. She had learned much since she +came to Greyhope, and yet she could not at that moment have told exactly +why she asked Richard the question that had confused him, nor did she +know quite what lay behind the question. But every problem which has +life works itself out to its appointed end, if fumbling human fingers do +not meddle with it. Half the miseries of this world are caused by +forcing issues, in every problem of the affections, the emotions, and the +soul. There is a law working with which there should be no tampering, +lest in foolish interruption come only confusion and disaster. Against +every such question there should be written the one word, "Wait." + +Richard Armour stooped over the child. "A beauty," he said, "a perfect +little gentleman. Like Richard Joseph Armour there is none," he added. + +"Whom do you think he looks like, Richard?" she asked. This was a +question she had never asked before since the child was born. Whom the +child looked like every one knew; but within the past year and a half +Francis Armour's name had seldom been mentioned, and never in connection +with the child. The child's mother asked the question with a strange +quietness. Richard answered it without hesitation. + +"The child looks like Frank," he said. "As like him as can be." + +"I am glad," she said, "for all your sakes." + +"You are very deep this morning, Lali," Richard said, with a kind of +helplessness. "Frank will be pretty proud of the youngster when he comes +back. But he won't be prouder of him than I am." + +"I know that," she said. "Won't you be lonely without the boy--and me, +Richard?" + +Again the question went home. "Lonely? I should think I would," he +said. "I should think I would. But then, you see, school is over, and +the master stays behind and makes up the marks. You will find London a +jollier master than I am, Lali. There'll be lots of shows, and plenty to +do, and smart frocks, and no end of feeds and frolics; and that is more +amusing than studying three hours a day with a dry old stick like me. I +tell you what, when Frank comes--" + +She interrupted him. "Do not speak of that," she said. Then, with a +sudden burst of feeling, though her words were scarcely audible: "I owe +you everything, Richard--everything that is good. I owe him nothing, +Richard--nothing but what is bitter." + +"Hush, hush," he said; "you must not speak that way. Lali, I want to say +to you--" + +At that moment General Armour, Mrs. Armour, and Marion appeared on the +door-step, and the carriage came wheeling up the drive. What Richard +intended to say was left unsaid. The chances were it never would be +said. + +"Well, well," said General Armour, calling down at them, "escort his +imperial highness to the chariot which awaits him, and then ho! for +London town. Come along, my daughter," he said to Lali; "come up here +and take the last whiff of Greyhope that you will have for six months. +Dear, dear, what lunatics we all are, to be sure! Why, we're as happy as +little birds in their nests out in the decent country, and yet we scamper +off to a smoky old city by the Thames to rush along with the world, +instead of sitting high and far away from it and watching it go by. God +bless my soul, I'm old enough to know better! Well, let me help you in, +my dear," he added to his wife; "and in you go, Marion; and in you go, +your imperial highness"--he passed the child awkwardly in to Marion; +"and in you go, my daughter," he added, as he handed Lali in, pressing +her hand with a brusque fatherliness as he did so. He then got in after +them. + +Richard came to the side of the carriage and bade them all good-bye one +by one. Lali gave him her hand, but did not speak a word. He called a +cheerful adieu, the horses were whipped up, and in a moment Richard was +left alone on the steps of the house. He stood for a time looking, then +he turned to go into the house, but changed his mind, sat down, lit a +cigar, and did not move from his seat until he was summoned to his lonely +luncheon. + +Nobody thought much of leaving Richard behind at Greyhope. It seemed the +natural thing to do. But still he had not been left alone--entirely +alone--for three years or more. + +The days and weeks went on. If Richard had been accounted eccentric +before, there was far greater cause for the term now. Life dragged. Too +much had been taken out of his life all at once; for, in the first place, +the family had been drawn together more during the trouble which Lali's +advent had brought; then the child and its mother, his pupil, were gone +also. He wandered about in a kind of vague unrest. The hardest thing in +this world to get used to is the absence of a familiar footstep and the +cheerful greeting of a familiar eye. And the man with no chick or child +feels even the absence of his dog from the hearth-rug when he returns +from a journey or his day's work. It gives him a sense of strangeness +and loss. But when it is the voice of a woman and the hand of a child +that is missed, you can back no speculation upon that man's mood or mind +or conduct. There is no influence like the influence of habit, and that +is how, when the minds of people are at one, physical distances and +differences, no matter how great, are invisible, or at least not obvious. + +Richard Armour was a sensible man; but when one morning he suddenly +packed a portmanteau and went up to town to Cavendish Square, the act +might be considered from two sides of the equation. If he came back to +enter again into the social life which, for so many years, he had +abjured, it was not very sensible, because the world never welcomes its +deserters; it might, if men and women grew younger instead of older. If +he came to see his family, or because he hungered for his godchild, or +because--but we are hurrying the situation. It were wiser not to state +the problem yet. The afternoon that he arrived at Cavendish Square all +his family were out except his brother's wife. Lali was in the drawing- +room, receiving a visitor who had asked for Mrs. Armour and Mrs. Francis +Armour. The visitor was received by Mrs. Francis Armour. The visitor +knew that Mrs. Armour was not at home. She had by chance seen her and +Marion in Bond Street, and was not seen by them. She straightway got +into her carriage and drove up to Cavendish Square, hoping to find Mrs. +Francis Armour at home. There had been house-parties at Greyhope since +Lali had come there to live, but this visitor, though once an intimate +friend of the family, had never been a guest. + +The visitor was Lady Haldwell, once Miss Julia Sherwood, who had made +possible what was called Francis Armour's tragedy. Since Lali had come +to town Lady Haldwell had seen her, but had never met her. She was not +at heart wicked, but there are few women who can resist an opportunity of +anatomising and reckoning up the merits and demerits of a woman who has +married an old lover. When that woman is in the position of Lali, the +situation has an unusual piquancy and interest. Hence Lady Haldwell's +journey of inquisition to Cavendish Square. + +As Richard passed the drawing-room door to ascend the stairs, he +recognised the voices. + +Once a sort of heathen, as Mrs. Francis Armour had been, she still could +grasp the situation with considerable clearness. There is nothing keener +than one woman's instinct regarding another woman, where a man is +concerned. Mrs. Francis Armour received Lady Haldwell with a quiet +stateliness, which, if it did not astonish her, gave her sufficient +warning that matters were not, in this little comedy, to be all her own +way. + +Thrown upon the mere resources of wit and language, Mrs. Francis Armour +must have been at a disadvantage. For Lady Haldwell had a good gift of +speech, a pretty talent for epithet, and no unnecessary tenderness. She +bore Lali no malice. She was too decorous and high for that. In her +mind the wife of the man she had discarded was a mere commonplace +catastrophe, to be viewed without horror, maybe with pity. She had heard +the alien spoken well of by some people; others had seemed indignant that +the Armours should try to push "a red woman" into English society. Truth +is, the Armours did not try at all to push her. For over three years +they had let society talk. They had not entertained largely in Cavendish +Square since Lali came, and those invited to Greyhope had a chance to +refuse the invitations if they chose. Most people did not choose to +decline them. But Lady Haldwell was not of that number. She had never +been invited. But now in town, when entertainment must be more general, +she and the Armours were prepared for social interchange. + +Behind Lady Haldwell's visit curiosity chiefly ran. She was in a way +sorry for Frank Armour, for she had been fond of him after a fashion, +always fonder of him than of Lord Haldwell. She had married with her +fingers holding the scales of advantage; and Lord Haldwell dressed well, +was immensely rich, and the title had a charm. + +When Mrs. Francis Armour met her with her strange, impressive dignity, +she was the slightest bit confused, but not outwardly. She had not +expected it. At first Lali did not know who her visitor was. She had +not caught the name distinctly from the servant. + +Presently Lady Haldwell said, as Lali gave her hand "I am Lady Haldwell. +As Miss Sherwood I was an old friend of your husband." + +A scornful glitter came into Mrs. Armour's eyes--a peculiar touch of +burnished gold, an effect of the light at a certain angle of the lens. +It gave for the instant an uncanny look to the face, almost something +malicious. She guessed why this woman had come. She knew the whole +history of the past, and it touched her in a tender spot. She knew she +was had at an advantage. Before her was a woman perfectly trained in the +fine social life to which she was born, whose equanimity was as regular +as her features. Herself was by nature a creature of impulse, of the +woods and streams and open life. The social convention had been +engrafted. As yet she was used to thinking and speaking with all +candour. She was to have her training in the charms of superficiality, +but that was to come; and when it came she would not be an unskilful +apprentice. Perhaps the latent subtlety of her race came to help her +natural candour at the moment. For she said at once, in a slow, quiet +tone: + +"I never heard my husband speak of you. Will you sit down?" + +"And Mrs. Armour and Marion are not in? No, I suppose your husband did +not speak much of his old friends." + +The attack was studied and cruel. But Lady Haldwell had been stung by +Mrs. Armour's remark, and it piqued her that this was possible. + +"Well, yes, he spoke of some of his friends, but not of you." + +"Indeed! That is strange." + +"There was no necessity," said Mrs. Armour quietly. + +"Of discussing me? I suppose not. But by some chance--" + +"It was just as well, perhaps, not to anticipate the pleasure of our +meeting." + +Lady Haldwell was surprised. She had not expected this cleverness. +They talked casually for a little time, the visitor trying in vain to +delicately give the conversation a personal turn. At last, a little +foolishly, she grew bolder, with a needless selfishness. + +"So old a friend of your husband as I am, I am hopeful you and I may be +friends also." + +Mrs. Armour saw the move. + +"You are very kind," she said conventionally, and offered a cup of tea. + +Lady Haldwell now ventured unwisely. She was nettled at the other's +self-possession. + +"But then, in a way, I have been your friend for a long time, Mrs. +Armour." + +The point was veiled in a vague tone, but Mrs. Armour understood. Her +reply was not wanting. "Any one who has been a friend to my husband has, +naturally, claims upon me." + +Lady Haldwell, in spite of herself, chafed. There was a subtlety in the +woman before her not to be reckoned with lightly. + +"And if an enemy?" she said, smiling. + +A strange smile also flickered across Mrs. Armour's face as she said: + +"If an enemy of my husband called, and was penitent, I should--offer her +tea, no doubt." + +"That is, in this country; but in your own country, which, I believe, is +different, what would you do?" Mrs. Armour looked steadily and coldly +into her visitor's eyes. + +"In my country enemies do not compel us to be polite." + +"By calling on you?" Lady Haldwell was growing a little reckless. "But +then, that is a savage country. We are different here. I suppose, +however, your husband told you of these things, so that you were not +surprised. And when does he come? His stay is protracted. Let me see, +how long is it? Ah yes, near four years." Here she became altogether +reckless, which she regretted afterwards, for she knew, after all, what +was due herself. "He will comeback, I suppose?" + +Lady Haldwell was no coward, else she had hesitated before speaking in +that way before this woman, in whose blood was the wildness of the +heroical North. Perhaps she guessed the passion in Lali's breast, +perhaps not. In any case she would have said what she listed at the +moment. + +Wild as were the passions in Lali's breast, she thought on the instant of +her child, of what Richard Armour would say; for he had often talked to +her about not showing her emotions and passions, had told her that +violence of all kinds was not wise or proper. Her fingers ached to grasp +this beautiful, exasperating woman by the throat. But after an effort at +calmness she remained still and silent, looking at her visitor with a +scornful dignity. Lady Haldwell presently rose,--she could not endure +the furnace of that look,--and said good-bye. She turned towards the +door. Mrs. Armour remained immovable. At that instant, however, some +one stepped from behind a large screen just inside the door. It was +Richard Armour. He was pale, and on his face was a sternness the like +of which this and perhaps only one other woman had ever seen on him. He +interrupted her. + +"Lady Haldwell has a fine talent for irony," he said, "but she does not +always use it wisely. In a man it would bear another name, and from a +man it would be differently received." He came close to her. "You are a +brave woman," he said, "or you would have been more careful. Of course +you knew that my mother and sister were not at home?" + +She smiled languidly. "And why 'of course'?" + +"I do not know that; only I know that I think so; and I also think that +my brother Frank's worst misfortune did not occur when Miss Julia +Sherwood trafficked without compunction in his happiness." + +"Don't be oracular, my dear Richard Armour," she replied. "You are +trying, really. This seems almost melodramatic; and melodrama is bad +enough at Drury Lane." + +"You are not a good friend even to yourself," he answered. + +"What a discoverer you are! And how much in earnest! Do come back to +the world, Mr. Armour; you would be a relief, a new sensation." + +"I fancy I shall come back, if only to see the 'engineer hoist with his +own'--torpedo." + +He paused before the last word to give it point, for her husband's father +had made his money out of torpedoes. She felt the sting in spite of +herself, and she saw the point. + +"And then we will talk it over at the end of the season," he added, "and +compare notes. Good-afternoon." + +"You stake much on your hazard," she said, glancing back at Lali, who +still stood immovable. "Au revoir!" She left the room. Richard heard +the door close after her and the servant retire. Then he turned to Lali. + +As he did so, she ran forward to him with a cry. "Oh, Richard, Richard!" +she exclaimed, with a sob, threw her arms over his shoulder, and let her +forehead drop on his breast. Then came a sudden impulse in his blood. +Long after he shuddered when he remembered what he thought at that +instant; what he wished to do; what rich madness possessed him. He knew +now why he had come to town; he also knew why he must not stay, or, if +staying, what must be his course. + +He took her gently by the arm and led her to a chair, speaking cheerily +to her. Then he sat down beside her, and all at once again, her face wet +and burning, she flung herself forward on her knees beside him, and clung +to him. + +"Oh, Richard, I am glad you have come," she said. "I would have killed +her if I had not thought of you. I want you to stay; I am always better +when you are with me. I have missed you, and I know that baby misses you +too." + +He had his cue. He rose, trembling a little. "Come, come," he said +heartily, "it's all right, it's all right-my sister. Let us go and see +the youngster. There, dry your eyes, and forget all about that woman. +She is only envious of you. Come, for his imperial highness!" + +She was in a tumult of feeling. It was seldom that she had shown emotion +in the past two years, and it was the more ample when it did break forth. +But she dried her eyes, and together they went to the nursery. She +dismissed the nurse and they were left alone by the sleeping child. She +knelt at the head of the little cot, and touched the child's forehead +with her lips. He stooped down also beside it. + +"He's a grand little fellow," he said. "Lali," he continued presently, +"it is time Frank came home. I am going to write for him. If he does +not come at once, I shall go and fetch him." + +"Never! never!" Her eyes flashed angrily. "Promise that you will not. +Let him come when he is ready. + +"He does not, care." She shuddered a little. + +"But he will care when he comes, and you--you care for him, Lali?" + +Again she shuddered, and a whiteness ran under the hot excitement of her +cheeks. She said nothing, but looked up at him, then dropped her face in +her hands. + +"You do care for him, Lali," he said earnestly, almost solemnly, his lips +twitching slightly. "You must care for him; it is his right; and he +will--I swear to you I know he will--care for you." + +In his own mind there was another thought, a hard, strange thought; and +it had to do with the possibility of his brother not caring for this +wife. + +Still she did not speak. + +"To a good woman, with a good husband," he continued, "there is no one-- +there should be no one--like the father of her child. And no woman ever +loved her child more than you do yours." He knew that this was special +pleading. + +She trembled, and then dropped her cheek beside the child's. "I want +Frank to be happy," he went on; "there is no one I care more for than +for Frank." + +She lifted her face to him now, in it a strange light. Then her look ran +to confusion, and she seemed to read all that he meant to convey. He +knew she did. He touched her shoulder. + +"You must do the best you can every way, for Frank's sake, for all our +sakes. I will help you--God knows I will--all I can." + +"Ah, yes, yes," she whispered, from the child's pillow. + +He could see the flame in her cheek. "I understand." She put out her +hand to him, but did not look up. "Leave me alone with my baby, +Richard," she pleaded. + +He took her hand and pressed it again and again in his old, unconscious +way. Then he let it go, and went slowly to the door. There he turned +and looked back at her. He mastered the hot thought in him. "God help +me!" she murmured from the cot. The next morning Richard went back to +Greyhope. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +A COURT-MARTIAL + +It was hard to tell, save for a certain deliberateness of speech and a +colour a little more pronounced than that of a Spanish woman, that Mrs. +Frank Armour had not been brought up in England. She had a kind of grave +sweetness and distant charm which made her notable at any table or in +any ballroom. Indeed, it soon became apparent that she was to be the +pleasant talk, the interest of the season. This was tolerably comforting +to the Armours. Again Richard's prophecy had been fulfilled, and as he +sat alone at Greyhope and read the Morning Post, noticing Lali's name +at distinguished gatherings, or, picking up the World, saw how the lion- +hunters talked extravagantly of her, he took some satisfaction to himself +that he had foreseen her triumph where others looked for her downfall. +Lali herself was not elated; it gratified her, but she had been an angel, +and a very unsatisfactory one, if it had not done so. As her confidence +grew (though outwardly she had never appeared to lack it greatly), she +did not hesitate to speak of herself as an Indian, her country as a good +country, and her people as a noble if dispossessed race; all the more so +if she thought reference to her nationality and past was being rather +conspicuously avoided. She had asked General Armour for an interview +with her husband's solicitor. This was granted. When she met the +solicitor, she asked him to send no newspaper to her husband containing +any reference to herself, nor yet to mention her in his letters. + +She had never directly received a line from him but once, and that was +after she had come to know the truth about his marriage with her. She +could read in the conventional sentences, made simple as for a child, +the strained politeness, and his absolute silence as to whether or not +a child had been born to them, the utter absence of affection for her. +She had also induced General Armour and his wife to give her husband's +solicitor no information regarding the birth of the child. There was +thus apparently no more inducement for him to hurry back to England than +there was when he had sent her off on his mission of retaliation, which +had been such an ignominious failure. For the humiliation of his family +had been short-lived, the affront to Lady Haldwell nothing at all. The +Armours had not been human if they had failed to enjoy their daughter-in +-law's success. Although they never, perhaps, would quite recover the +disappointment concerning Lady Agnes Martling, the result was so much +better than they in their cheerfulest moments dared hope for, that they +appeared genuinely content. + +To their grandchild they were devotedly attached. Marion was his +faithful slave and admirer, so much so that Captain Vidall, who now and +then was permitted to see the child, declared himself jealous. He and +Marion were to be married soon. The wedding had been delayed owing to +his enforced absence abroad. Mrs. Edward Lambert, once Mrs. Townley, +shyly regretted in Lali's presence that the child, or one as sweet, +was not hers. Her husband evidently shared her opinion, from the +extraordinary notice he took of it when his wife was not present. Not +that Richard Joseph Armour, Jun., was always en evidence, but when asked +for by his faithful friends and admirers he was amiably produced. + +Meanwhile, Frank Armour across the sea was engaged with many things. +His business concerns had not prospered prodigiously, chiefly because his +judgment, like his temper, had grown somewhat uncertain. His popularity +in the Hudson's Bay country had been at some tension since he had shipped +his wife away to England. Even the ordinary savage mind saw something +unusual and undomestic in it, and the general hospitality declined a +little. Armour did not immediately guess the cause; but one day, about a +year after his wife had gone, he found occasion to reprove a half-breed, +by name Jacques Pontiac; and Jacques, with more honesty than politeness, +said some hard words, and asked how much he paid for his English hired +devils to kill his wife. Strange to say, he did not resent this +startling remark. It set him thinking. He began to blame himself for +not having written oftener to his people--and to his wife. He wondered +how far his revenge had succeeded. He was most ashamed of it now. He +knew that he had done a dishonourable thing. The more he thought upon +it the more angry with himself he became. Yet he dreaded to go back to +England and face it all: the reproach of his people; the amusement of +society; his wife herself. He never attempted to picture her as a +civilised being. He scarcely knew her when he married her. She knew +him much better, for primitive people are quicker in the play of their +passions, and she had come to love him before he had begun to notice +her at all. + +Presently he ate his heart out with mortification. To be yoked for ever +to--a savage! It was horrible. And their children? It was strange he +had not thought of that before. Children? He shrugged his shoulders. +There might possibly be a child, but children--never! But he doubted +even regarding a child, for no word had come to him concerning that +possibility. He was even most puzzled at the tone and substance of their +letters. From the beginning there had been no reproaches, no excitement, +no railing, but studied kindness and conventional statements, through +which Mrs. Armour's solicitous affection scarcely ever peeped. He had +shot his bolt, and got--consideration, almost imperturbability. They +appeared to treat the matter as though he were a wild youth who would not +yet mend his ways. He read over their infrequent letters to him; his to +them had been still more infrequent. In one there was the statement that +"she was progressing favourably with her English"; in another, that "she +was riding a good deal"; again, that "she appeared anxious to adapt +herself to her new life." + +At all these he whistled a little to himself, and smiled bitterly. Then, +all at once, he got up and straightway burned them all. He again tried +to put the matter behind him for the present, knowing that he must face +it one day, and staving off its reality as long as possible. He did his +utmost to be philosophical and say his quid refert, but it was easier +tried than done; for Jacques Pontiac's words kept rankling in his mind, +and he found himself carrying round a vague load, which made him +abstracted occasionally, and often a little reckless in action and +speech. In hunting bear and moose he had proved himself more daring than +the oldest hunter, and proportionately successful. He paid his servants +well, but was sharp with them. + +He made long, hard expeditions, defying the weather as the hardiest of +prairie and mountain men mostly hesitate to defy it; he bought up much +land, then, dissatisfied, sold it again at a loss, but subsequently made +final arrangements for establishing a very large farm. When he once +became actually interested in this he shook off something of his +moodiness and settled himself to develop the thing. He had good talent +for initiative and administration, and at last, in the time when his wife +was a feature of the London season, he found his scheme in working order, +and the necessity of going to England was forced upon him. + +Actually he wished that the absolute necessity had presented itself +before. There was always the moral necessity, of course--but then! +Here now was a business need; and he must go. Yet he did not fix a day +or make definite arrangements. He could hardly have believed himself +such a coward. With liberal emphasis he called himself a sneak, and one +day at Fort Charles sat down to write to his solicitor in Montreal to say +that he would come on at once. Still he hesitated. As he sat there +thinking, Eye-of-the-Moon, his father-in-law, opened the door quietly and +entered. He had avoided the chief ever since he had come back to Fort +Charles, and practically had not spoken to him for a year. Armour +flushed slightly with annoyance. But presently, with a touch of his old +humour, he rose, held out his hand, and said ironically: "Well, father- +in-law, it's about time we had a big talk, isn't it? We're not very +intimate for such close relatives." + +The old Indian did not fully understand the meaning or the tone of +Armour's speech, but he said "How!" and, reaching out his hand for the +pipe offered him, lighted it, and sat down, smoking in silence. Armour +waited; but, seeing that the other was not yet moved to talk, he turned +to his letter again. After a time, Eye-of-the-Moon said gravely, getting +to his feet: "Brother!" + +Armour looked up, then rose also. The Indian bowed to him courteously, +then sat down again. Armour threw a leg over a corner of the table and +waited. + +"Brother," said the Indian presently, "you are of the great race that +conquers us. You come and take our land and our game, and we at last +have to beg of you for food and shelter. Then you take our daughters, +and we know not where they go. They are gone like the down from the +thistle. We see them not, but you remain. And men say evil things. +There are bad words abroad. Brother, what have you done with my +daughter?" + +Had the Indian come and stormed, begged money of him, sponged on him, +or abused him, he had taken it very calmly--he would, in fact, have been +superior. But there was dignity in the chief's manner; there was +solemnity in his speech; his voice conveyed resoluteness and earnestness, +which the stoic calm of his face might not have suggested; and Armour +felt that he had no advantage at all. Besides, Armour had a conscience, +though he had played some rare tricks with it of late, and it needed more +hardihood than he possessed to face this old man down. And why face him +down? Lali was his daughter, blood of his blood, the chieftainess of one +branch of his people, honoured at least among these poor savages, and the +old man had a right to ask, as asked another more famous, "Where is my +daughter?" + +His hands in his pockets, Armour sat silent for a minute, eyeing his +boot, as he swung his leg to and fro. Presently he said: "Eye-of-the- +Moon, I don't think I can talk as poetically as you, even in my own +language, and I shall not try. But I should like to ask you this: +Do you believe any harm has come to your daughter--to my wife?" + +The old Indian forgot to blow the tobacco-smoke from his mouth, and, as +he sat debating, lips slightly apart, it came leaking out in little +trailing clouds and gave a strange appearance to his iron-featured face. +He looked steadily at Armour, and said: "You are of those who rule in +your land,"--here Armour protested, "you have much gold to buy and sell. +I am a chief, "he drew himself up,--"I am poor: we speak with the +straight tongue; it is cowards who lie. Speak deep as from the heart, +my brother, and tell me where my daughter is." + +Armour could not but respect the chief for the way this request was put, +but still it galled him to think that he was under suspicion of having +done any bodily injury to his wife, so he quietly persisted: "Do you +think I have done Lali any harm?" + +"The thing is strange," replied the other. "You are of those who are +great among your people. You married a daughter of a red man. Then she +was yours for less than one moon, and you sent her far away, and you +stayed. Her father was as a dog in your sight. Do men whose hearts +are clear act so? They have said strange things of you. I have not +believed; but it is good I know all, that I may say to the tale-bearers, +'You have crooked tongues.'" + +Armour sat for a moment longer, his face turned to the open window. He +was perfectly still, but he had become grave. He was about to reply to +the chief, when the trader entered the room hurriedly with a newspaper in +his hand. He paused abruptly when he saw Eye-of-the-Moon. Armour felt +that the trader had something important to communicate. He guessed it +was in the paper. He mutely held out his hand for it. The trader handed +it to him hesitatingly, at the same time pointing to a paragraph, and +saying: "It is nearly two years old, as you see. I chanced upon it by +accident to-day." + +It was a copy of a London evening paper, containing a somewhat +sensational account of Lali's accident. It said that she was in a +critical condition. This time Armour did not ask for brandy, but the +trader put it out beside him. He shook his head. "Gordon," he said +presently, "I shall leave here in the morning. Please send my men to +me." + +The trader whispered to him: "She was all right, of course, long ago, Mr. +Armour, or you would have heard." + +Armour looked at the date of the paper. He had several letters from +England of a later date, and these said nothing of her illness. It +bewildered him, made him uneasy. Perhaps the first real sense of his +duty as a husband came home to him there. For the first time he was +anxious about the woman for her own sake. The trader had left the room. + +"What a scoundrel I've been!" said Armour between his teeth, oblivious, +for the moment, of Eye-of-the-Moon's presence. Presently, bethinking +himself, he turned to the Indian. "I've been debating," he said. "Eye- +of-the-Moon, my wife is in England, at my father's home. I am going to +her. Men have lied in thinking I would do her any injury, but--but-- +never mind, the harm was of another kind. It isn't wise for a white man +and an Indian to marry, but when they are married--well, they must live +as man and wife should live, and, as I said, I am going to my wife." + +To say all this to a common Indian, whose only property was a dozen +ponies and a couple of tepees, required something very like moral +courage; but then Armour had not been exercising moral courage during +the last year or so, and its exercise was profitable to him. The next +morning he was on his way to Montreal, and Eye-of-the-Moon was the +richest chief in British North America, at that moment, by five thousand +dollars or so. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +TO EVERY MAN HIS HOUR + +It was the close of the season: many people had left town, but +festivities were still on. To a stranger the season might have seemed +at its height. The Armours were giving a large party in Cavendish Square +before going back again to Greyhope, where, for the sake of Lali and +her child, they intended to remain during the rest of the summer, +in preference to going on the Continent or to Scotland. The only +unsatisfactory feature of Lali's season was the absence of her husband. +Naturally there were those who said strange things regarding Frank +Armour's stay in America; but it was pretty generally known that he was +engaged in land speculations, and his club friends, who perhaps took the +pleasantest view of the matter, said that he was very wise indeed, if a +little cowardly, in staying abroad until his wife was educated and ready +to take her position in society. There was one thing on which they were +all agreed: Mrs. Frank Armour either had a mind superior to the charms +of their sex, or was incapable of that vanity which hath many suitors, +and says: "So far shalt thou go, and--" The fact is, Mrs. Frank Armour's +mind was superior. She had only one object--to triumph over her husband +grandly, as a woman righteously might. She had vanity, of course, but it +was not ignoble. She kept one thing in view; she lived for it. + +Her translation had been successful. There were times when she +remembered her father, the wild days on the prairies, the buffalo-hunt, +tracking the deer, tribal battles, the long silent hours of the winter, +and the warm summer nights when she slept in the prairie grass or camped +with her people in the trough of a great landwave. Sometimes the hunger +for its freedom, and its idleness, and its sport, came to her greatly; +but she thought of her child, and she put it from her. She was ambitious +for him; she was keen to prove her worth as a wife against her husband's +unworthiness. This perhaps saved her. She might have lost had her life +been without this motive. + +The very morning of this notable reception, General Armour had received +a note from Frank Armour's solicitor, saying that his son was likely to +arrive in London from America that day or the next. Frank had written to +his people no word of his coming; to his wife, as we have said, he had +not written for months; and before he started back he would not write, +because he wished to make what amends he could in person. He expected to +find her improved, of course, but still he could only think of her as an +Indian, showing her common prairie origin. His knowledge of her before +their marriage had been particularly brief; she was little more in his +eyes than a thousand other Indian women, save that she was better- +looking, was whiter than most, and had finer features. He could not very +clearly remember the tones of her voice, because after marriage, and +before he had sent her to England, he had seen little or nothing of her. + +When General Armour received the news of Frank's return he told his wife +and Marion, and they consulted together whether it were good to let Lali +know at once. He might arrive that evening. If so, the position would +be awkward, because it was impossible to tell how it might affect her. +If they did tell her, and Frank happened not to arrive, it might unnerve +her so as to make her appearance in the evening doubtful. Richard, the +wiseacre, the inexhaustible Richard, was caring for his cottagers and +cutting the leaves of new books--his chiefest pleasure--at Greyhope. +They felt it was a matter they ought to be able to decide for themselves, +but still it was the last evening of Lali's stay in town, and they did +not care to take any risk. Strange to say, they had come to take pride +in their son's wife; for even General and Mrs. Armour, high-minded and +of serene social status as they were, seemed not quite insensible to the +pleasure of being an axle on which a system of social notoriety revolved. + +At the opportune moment Captain Vidall was announced, and, because he and +Marion were soon to carry but one name between them, he was called into +family consultation. It is somewhat singular that in this case the women +were quite wrong and the men were quite right. For General Armour and +Captain Vidall were for silence until Frank came, if he came that day, +or for telling her the following morning, when the function was over. +And the men prevailed. + +Marion was much excited all day; she had given orders that Frank's room +should be made ready, but for whom she gave no information. While Lali +was dressing for the evening, something excited and nervous, she entered +her room. They were now the best of friends. The years had seen many +shifting scenes in their companionship; they had been as often at war as +at peace; but they had respected each other, each after her own fashion; +and now they had a real and mutual regard. Lali's was a slim, lithe +figure, wearing its fashionable robes with an air of possession; +and the face above it, if not entirely beautiful, had a strange, warm +fascination. The girl had not been a chieftainess for nothing. A look +of quiet command was there, but also a far-away expression which gave a +faint look of sadness even when a smile was at the lips. The smile +itself did not come quickly, it grew; but above it all was hair of +perfect brown, most rare,--setting off her face as a plume does a helmet. +She showed no surprise when Marion entered. She welcomed her with a +smile and outstretched hand, but said nothing. + +"Lali," said Marion somewhat abruptly,--she scarcely knew why she said +it,--"are you happy?" + +It was strange how the Indian girl had taken on those little manners of +society which convey so much by inflection. She lifted her eyebrows at +Marion, and said presently, in a soft, deliberate voice, "Come, Marion, +we will go and see little Richard; then I shall be happy." + +She linked her arm through Marion's. Marion drummed her fingers lightly +on the beautiful arm, and then fell to wondering what she should say +next. They passed into the room where the child lay sleeping; they went +to his little bed, and Lali stretched out her hand gently, touching the +curls of the child. Running a finger through one delicately, she said, +with a still softer tone than before: "Why should not one be happy?" + +Marion looked up slowly into her eyes, let a hand fall on her shoulder +gently, and replied: "Lali, do you never wish Frank to come?" + +Lali's fingers came from the child, the colour mounted slowly to her +forehead, and she drew the girl away again into the other room. Then she +turned and faced Marion, a deep fire in her eyes, and said, in a whisper +almost hoarse in its intensity: "Yes; I wish he would come to-night." + +She looked harder yet at Marion; then, with a flash of pride and her +hands clasping before her, she drew herself up, and added: "Am I not +worthy to be his wife now? Am I not beautiful--for a savage?" + +There was no common vanity in the action. It had a noble kind of +wistfulness, and a serenity that entirely redeemed it. Marion dated +her own happiness from the time when Lali met her accident, for in the +evening of that disastrous day she issued to Captain Hume Vidall a +commission which he could never--wished never--to resign. Since then +she had been at her best,--we are all more or less selfish creatures,-- +and had grown gentler, curbing the delicate imperiousness of her nature, +and frankly, and without the least pique, taken a secondary position of +interest in the household, occasioned by Lali's popularity. She looked +Lali up and down with a glance in which many feelings met, and then, +catching her hands warmly, she lifted them, put them on her own +shoulders, and said: "My dear beautiful savage, you are fit and +worthy to be Queen of England; and Frank, when he comes--" + +"Hush!" said the other dreamily, and put a finger on Marion's lips. "I +know what you are going to say, but I do not wish to hear it. He did not +love me then. He used me--" She shuddered, put her hands to her eyes +with a pained, trembling motion, then threw her head back with a quick +sigh. "But I will not speak of it. Come, we are for the dance, Marion. +It is the last, to-night. To-morrow--" She paused, looking straight +before her, lost in thought. + +"Yes, to-morrow, Lali?" + +"I do not know about to-morrow," was the reply. "Strange things come to +me." + +Marion longed to tell her then and there the great news, but she was +afraid to do so, and was, moreover, withheld by the remembrance that it +had been agreed she should not be told. She said nothing. + +At eleven o'clock the rooms were filled. For the fag end of the season, +people seemed unusually brilliant. The evening itself was not so hot as +common, and there was an extra array of distinguished guests. Marion was +nervous all the evening, though she showed little of it, being most +prettily employed in making people pleased with themselves. Mrs. Armour +also was not free from apprehension. In reply to inquiries concerning +her son she said, as she had often said during the season, that he might +be back at any time now. Lali had answered always in the same fashion, +and had shown no sign that his continued absence was singular. As the +evening wore on, the probability of Frank's appearance seemed less; and +the Armours began to breathe more freely. + +Frank had, however, arrived. He had driven straight from Euston to +Cavendish Square, but, seeing the house lighted up, and guests arriving, +he had a sudden feeling of uncertainty. He ordered the cabman to take +him to his club. There he put himself in evening-dress, and drove back +again to the house. He entered quietly. At the moment the hall was +almost deserted; people were mostly in the ballroom and supper-room. He +paused a moment, biting his moustache as if in perplexity. A strange +timidity came on him. All his old dash and self-possession seemed to +have forsaken him. Presently, seeing a number of people entering the +hall, he made for the staircase, and went hastily up. Mechanically he +went to his own room, and found it lighted. Flowers were set about, and +everything was made ready as for a guest. He sat down, not thinking, but +dazed. + +Glancing up, he saw his face in a mirror. It was bronzed, but it looked +rather old and careworn. He shrugged a shoulder at that. Then, in the +mirror, he saw also something else. It startled him so that he sat +perfectly still for a moment looking at it. It was some one laughing at +him over his shoulder--a child! He got to his feet and turned round. On +the table was a very large photograph of a smiling child--with his eyes, +his face. He caught the chair-arm, and stood looking at it a little +wildly. Then he laughed a strange laugh, and the tears leaped to his +eyes. He caught the picture in his hands, and kissed it,--very +foolishly, men not fathers might think,--and read the name beneath, +Richard Joseph Armour; and again, beneath that, the date of birth. +He then put it back on the table and sat looking at it-looking, and +forgetting, and remembering. + +Presently, the door opened, and some one entered. It was Marion. She +had seen him pass through the hall; she had then gone and told her father +and mother, to prepare them, and had followed him upstairs. He did not +hear her. She stepped softly forwards. "Frank!" she said--"Frank!" +and laid a hand on his shoulder. He started up and turned his face on +her. + +Then he caught her hands and kissed her. "Marion!" he said, and he +could say no more. But presently he pointed towards the photograph. + +She nodded her head. "Yes, it is your child, Frank. Though, of course, +you don't deserve it. . . . Frank dear," she added, "I am glad--we +shall all be glad-to have you back; but you are a wicked man." She felt +she must say that. + +Now he only nodded, and still looked at the portrait. "Where is--my +wife?" he added presently. + +"She is in the ballroom." Marion was wondering what was best to do. + +He caught his thumb-nail in his teeth. He winced in spite of himself. +"I will go to her," he said, "and then--the baby." + +"I am glad," she replied, "that you have so much sense of justice left, +Frank: the wife first, the baby afterwards. But do you think you deserve +either?" + +He became moody, and made an impatient gesture. "Lady Agnes Martling is +here, and also Lady Haldwell," she persisted cruelly. She did not mind, +because she knew he would have enough to compensate him afterwards. + +"Marion," he said, "say it all, and let me have it over. Say what you +like, and I'll not whimper. I'll face it. But I want to see my child." + +She was sorry for him. She had really wanted to see how much he was +capable of feeling in the matter. + +"Wait here, Frank," she said. "That will be best; and I will bring your +wife to you." + +He said nothing, but assented with a motion of the hand, and she left +him where he was. He braced himself for the interview. Assuredly a man +loses something of natural courage and self-confidence when he has done +a thing of which he should be, and is, ashamed. + +It seemed a long time (it was in reality but a couple of minutes) before +the door opened again, and Marion said: "Frank, your wife!" and then +retreated. + +The door closed, leaving a stately figure standing just inside it. The +figure did not move forwards, but stood there, full of life and fine +excitement, but very still also. + +Frank Armour was confounded. He came forwards slowly, looking hard. +Was this distinguished, handsome, reproachful woman his wife--Lali, the +Indian girl, whom he had married in a fit of pique and brandy? He could +hardly believe his eyes; and yet hers looked out at him with something +that he remembered too, together with something which he did not +remember, making him uneasy. Clearly, his great mistake had turned from +ashes into fruit. "Lali!" he said, and held out his hand. + +She reached out hers courteously, but her fingers gave him no response. + +"We have many things to say to each other," she said, "but they cannot be +said now. I shall be missed from the ballroom." + +"Missed from the ballroom!" He almost laughed to think how strange this +sounded in his ears. As if interpreting his thought, she added: "You +see, it is our last affair of the season, and we are all anxious to do +our duty perfectly. Will you go down with me? We can talk afterwards." + +Her continued self-possession utterly confused him. She had utterly +confused Marion also, when told that her husband was in the house. She +had had presentiments, and, besides, she had been schooling herself for +this hour for a long time. She turned towards the door. + +"But," he asked, like a supplicant, "our child! I want to see the boy." + +She lifted her eyebrows, then, seeing the photograph of the baby on the +table, understood how he knew. "Come with me, then," she said, with a +little more feeling. + +She led the way along the landing, and paused at her door. "Remember +that we have to appear amongst the guests directly," she said, as though +to warn him against any demonstration. Then they entered. She went over +to the cot and drew back the fleecy curtain from over the sleeping boy's +head. His fingers hungered to take his child to his arms. "He is +magnificent--magnificent!" he said, with a great pride. "Why did you +never let me know of it?" + +"How could I tell what you would do?" she calmly replied. "You married +me--wickedly, and used me wickedly afterwards; and I loved the child." + +"You loved the child," he repeated after her. "Lali," he added, "I don't +deserve it, but forgive me, if you can--for the child's sake." + +"We had better go below," she calmly replied. "We have both duties to +do. You will of course--appear with me--before them?" + +The slight irony in the tone cut him horribly. He offered his arm in +silence. They passed on to the staircase. + +"It is necessary," she said, "to appear cheerful before one's guests." + +She had him at an advantage at every point. "We will be cheerful, then," +was his reply, spoken with a grim kind of humour. "You have learned it +all, haven't you?" he added. + +They were just entering the ballroom. "Yes, with your kind help--and +absence," she replied. + +The surprise of the guests was somewhat diminished by the fact that +Marion, telling General Armour and his wife first of Frank's return, +industriously sent the news buzzing about the room. + +The two went straight to Frank's father and mother. Their parts were +all excellently played. Then Frank mingled among the guests, being very +heartily greeted, and heard congratulations on all sides. Old club +friends rallied him as a deserter, and new acquaintances flocked about +him; and presently he awakened to the fact that his Indian wife had been +an interest of the season, was not the least admired person present. +It was altogether too good luck for him; but he had an uncomfortable +conviction that he had a long path of penance to walk before he could +hope to enjoy it. + +All at once he met Lady Haldwell, who, in spite of all, still accepted +invitations to General Armour's house--the strange scene between Lali and +herself never having been disclosed to the family. He had nothing but +bitterness in his heart for her, but he spoke a few smooth words, and she +languidly congratulated him on his bronzed appearance. He asked for a +dance, but she had not one to give him. As she was leaving, she suddenly +turned as though she had forgotten something, and looking at him, said: +"I forgot to congratulate you on your marriage. I hope it is not too +late?" + +He bowed. "Your congratulations are so sincere," he said, "that they +would be a propos late or early." When he stood with his wife whilst the +guests were leaving, and saw with what manner she carried it all off,--as +though she had been born in the good land of good breeding,--he was moved +alternately with wonder and shame--shame that he had intended this noble +creature as a sacrifice to his ugly temper and spite. + +When all the guests were gone and the family stood alone in the drawing- +room, a silence suddenly fell amongst them. Presently Marion said to her +mother in a half-whisper, "I wish Richard were here." + +They all felt the extreme awkwardness of the situation, especially when +Lali bade General Armour, Mrs. Armour, and Marion good-night, and then, +turning to her husband, said, "Good-night"--she did not even speak his +name. "Perhaps you would care to ride to-morrow morning? I always go +to the Park at ten, and this will be my last ride of the season." + +Had she written out an elaborate proclamation of her intended attitude +towards her husband, it could not have more clearly conveyed her mind +than this little speech, delivered as to a most friendly acquaintance. +General Armour pulled his moustache fiercely, and, it is possible, +enjoyed the situation, despite its peril. Mrs. Armour turned to the +mantel and seemed tremulously engaged in arranging some bric-a-brac. +Marion, however, with a fine instinct, slid her arm through that of Lali, +and gently said: "Yes, of course Frank will be glad of a ride in the +Park. He used to ride with me every morning. But let us go, us three, +and kiss the baby good-night--'good-night till we meet in the morning.'" + +She linked her arm now through Frank's, and as she did so he replied to +Lali: "I shall be glad to ride in the morning, but--" + +"But we can arrange it at breakfast," said his wife hurriedly. At the +same time she allowed herself to be drawn away to the hall with her +husband. + +He was very angry, but he knew he had no right to be so. He choked back +his wrath and moved on amiably enough, and suddenly the fashion in which +the tables had been turned on him struck him with its tragic comedy, and +he involuntarily smiled. His sense of humour saved him from words and +acts which might possibly have made the matter a pure tragedy after all. +He loosed his arm from Marion's. + +"I must bid father and mother good-night. Then I will join you both-- +'in the court of the king.'" And he turned and went back, and said to +his father as he kissed his mother: "I am had at an advantage, General." + +"And serves you right, my boy. You had the odds with you, but she has +captured them like a born soldier." His mother said to him gently: +"Frank, you blamed us, but remember that we wished only your good. Take +my advice, dear, and try to love your wife and win her confidence." + +"Love her--try to love her!" he said. "I shall easily do that. But the +other--?" He shook his head a little, though what he meant perhaps he +did not know quite himself, and then followed Marion and Lali upstairs. +Marion had tried to escape from Lali, but was told that she must stay; +and the three met at the child's cot. Marion stooped down and kissed its +forehead. Frank stooped also and kissed its cheek. Then the wife kissed +the other cheek. The child slept peacefully on. "You can always see the +baby here before breakfast, if you choose," said Lali; and she held out +her hand again in good-night. At this point Marion stole away, in spite +of Lah's quick little cry of "Wait, Marion!" and the two were left alone +again. + +"I am very tired," she said. "I would rather not talk to-night." The +dismissal was evident. + +He took her hand, held it an instant, and presently said: "I will not +detain you, but I would ask you, Lali, to remember that you are my wife. +Nothing can alter that." + +"Still we are only strangers, as you know," she quietly rejoined. + +"You forget the days we were together--after we were married," he +cautiously urged. + +"I am not the same girl, . . . you killed her. . . We have to start +again. . . . I know all." + +"You know that in my wretched anger and madness I--" + +"Oh, please do not speak of it," she said; "it is so bad even in +thought." + +"But will you never forgive me, and care for me? We have to live our +lives together." + +"Pray let us not speak of it now," she said, in a weary voice; then, +breathlessly: "It is of much more consequence that you should love me +--and the child." + +He drew himself up with a choking sigh, and spread out his arms to her. +"Oh, my wife!" he exclaimed. + +"No, no," she cried, "this is unreasonable; we know so little of each +other. . . . Good-night, again." + +He turned at the door, came back, and, stooping, kissed the child on the +lips. Then he said: "You are right. I deserve to suffer. . . . +Good-night." + +But when he was gone she dropped on her knees, and kissed the child many +times on the lips also. + + + + + +ETEXT EDITOR'S BOOKMARKS: + +If fumbling human fingers do not meddle with it +Miseries of this world are caused by forcing issues +Reading a lot and forgetting everything +The world never welcomes its deserters +There is no influence like the influence of habit +There should be written the one word, "Wait." +Training in the charms of superficiality +We grow away from people against our will +We speak with the straight tongue; it is cowards who lie + + + + + + +THE TRANSLATION OF A SAVAGE + +By Gilbert Parker + +Volume 3. + + +IX. THE FAITH OF COMRADES +X. "THOU KNOWEST THE SECRETS OF OUR HEARTS" +XI. UPON THE HIGHWAY +XII. "THE CHASE OF THE YELLOW SWAN" +XIII. A LIVING POEM +XIV. ON THE EDGE OF A FUTURE +XV. THE END OF THE TRAIL + + + +CHAPTER IX + +THE FAITH OF COMRADES + +When Francis Armour left his wife's room he did not go to his own, but +quietly descended the stairs, went to the library, and sat down. The +loneliest thing in the world is to be tete-a-tete with one's conscience. +A man may have a bad hour with an enemy, a sad hour with a friend, a +peaceful hour with himself, but when the little dwarf, conscience, +perches upon every hillock of remembrance and makes slow signs--those +strange symbols of the language of the soul--to him, no slave upon the +tread-mill suffers more. + +The butler came in to see if anything was required, but Armour only +greeted him silently and waved him away. His brain was painfully alert, +his memory singularly awake. It seemed that the incident of this hour +had so opened up every channel of his intelligence that all his life ran +past him in fantastic panorama, as by that illumination which comes to +the drowning man. He seemed under some strange spell. Once or twice he +rose, rubbed his eyes, and looked round the room--the room where as a boy +he had spent idle hours, where as a student he had been in the hands of +his tutor, and as a young man had found recreations such as belong to +ambitious and ardent youth. Every corner was familiar. Nothing was +changed. The books upon the shelves were as they were placed twenty +years ago. And yet he did not seem a part of it. It did not seem +natural to him. He was in an atmosphere of strangeness--that atmosphere +which surrounds a man, as by a cloud, when some crisis comes upon him and +his life seems to stand still, whirling upon its narrow base, while the +world appears at an interminable distance, even as to a deaf man who sees +yet cannot hear. + +There came home to him at that moment with a force indescribable the +shamelessness of the act he committed four years ago. He had thought to +come back to miserable humiliation. For four years he had refused to do +his duty as a man towards an innocent woman,--a woman, though in part a +savage,--now transformed into a gentle, noble creature of delight and +goodness. How had he deserved it? He had sown the storm, it was but +just that he should reap the whirlwind; he had scattered thistles, +could he expect to gather grapes? He knew that the sympathy of all his +father's house was not with him, but with the woman he had wronged. He +was glad it was so. Looking back now, it seemed so poor and paltry a +thing that he, a man, should stoop to revenge himself upon those who had +given him birth, as a kind of insult to the woman who had lightly set him +aside, and should use for that purpose a helpless, confiding girl. To +revenge one's self for wrong to one's self is but a common passion, which +has little dignity; to avenge some one whom one has loved, man or woman, +--and, before all, woman,--has some touch of nobility, is redeemed by +loyalty. For his act there was not one word of defence to be made, and +he was not prepared to make it. + +The cigars and liquors were beside him, but he did not touch them. He +seemed very far away from the ordinary details of his life: he knew he +had before him hard travel, and he was not confident of the end. He +could not tell how long he sat there. --After, a time the ticking of +the clock seemed painfully loud to him. Now and again he heard a cab +rattling through the Square, and the foolish song of some drunken +loiterer in the night caused him to start painfully. Everything jarred +on him. Once he got up, went to the window, and looked out. The moon +was shining full on the Square. He wondered if it would be well for him +to go out and find some quiet to his nerves in walking. He did so. Out +in the Square he looked up to his wife's window. It was lighted. Long +time he walked up and down, his eyes on the window. It held him like a +charm. Once he leaned against the iron railings of the garden and looked +up, not moving for a time. Presently he saw the curtain of the window +raised, and against the dim light of the room was outlined the figure of +his wife. He knew it. She stood for a moment looking out into the +night. She could not see him, nor could he see her features at all +plainly, but he knew that she, like him, was alone with the catastrophe +which his wickedness had sent upon her. Soon the curtain was drawn down +again, and then he went once more to the house and took his old seat +beside the table. He fell to brooding, and at last, exhausted, dropped +to a troubled sleep. He woke with a start. Some one was in the room. +He heard a step behind him. He came to his feet quickly, a wild light in +his eyes. He faced his brother Richard. + +Late in the afternoon Marion had telegraphed to Richard that Frank was +coming. He had been away visiting some poor and sick people, and when he +came back to Greyhope it was too late to catch the train. But the horses +were harnessed straightway, and he was driven into town, a three-hours' +drive. He had left the horses at the stables, and, having a latch-key, +had come in quietly. He had seen the light in the study, and guessed who +was there. He entered, and saw his brother asleep. He watched him for a +moment and studied him. Then he moved away to take off his hat, and, as +he did so, stumbled slightly. Then it was Frank waked, and for the first +time in five years they looked each other in the eyes. They both stood +immovable for a moment, and then Richard caught Frank's hand in both of +his and said: "God bless you, my boy! I am glad you are back." + +"Dick! Dick!" was the reply, and Frank's other hand clutched Richard's +shoulder in his strong emotion. They stood silent for a moment longer, +and then Richard recovered himself. He waved his hand to the chairs. +The strain of the situation was a little painful for them both. Men are +shy with each other where their emotions are in play. + +"Why, my boy," he said, waving a hand to the spirits and liqueurs, "full +bottles and unopened boxes? Tut, tut! here's a pretty how-d'ye-do. Is +this the way you toast the home quarters? You're a fine soldier for an +old mess!" + +So saying, he poured out some whiskey, then opened the box of cigars and +pushed them towards his brother. He did not care particularly to drink +or smoke himself, but a man--an Englishman--is a strange creature. He is +most natural and at ease when he is engaged in eating and drinking. He +relieves every trying situation by some frivolous and selfish occupation, +as of dismembering a partridge, or mixing a punch. + +"Well, Frank," said his brother, "now what have you to say for yourself? +Why didn't you come long ago? You have played the adventurer for five +years, and what have you to show for it? Have you a fortune?" Frank +shook his head, and twisted a shoulder. "What have you done that is +worth the doing, then?" + +"Nothing that I intended to do, Dick," was the grave reply. + +"Yes, I imagined that. You have seen them, have you?" he added, in a +softer voice. + +Frank blew a great cloud of smoke about his face, and through it he said: +"Yes, I have seen a damned sight more than I deserved to see." + +"Oh, of course; I know that, my boy; but, so far as I can see, in another +direction you are getting quite what you deserve: your wife and child are +upstairs--you are here." + +He paused, was silent for a moment, then leaned over, caught his +brother's arm, and said, in a low, strenuous voice: "Frank Armour, you +laid a hateful little plot for us. It wasn't manly, but we forgave it +and did the best we could. But see here, Frank, take my word for it, +you have had a lot of luck. There isn't one woman out of ten thousand +that would have stood the test as your wife has stood it; injured at the +start, constant neglect, temptation--" he paused. "My boy, did you ever +think of that, of the temptation to a woman neglected by her husband? +The temptation to men? Yes, you have had a lot of luck. There has been +a special providence for you, my boy; but not for your sake. God doesn't +love neglectful husbands, but I think He is pretty sorry for neglected +wives." + +Frank was very still. His head drooped, the cigar hung unheeded in his +fingers for a moment, and he said at last: "Dick, old boy, I've thought +it all over to-night since I came back--everything that you've said. +I have not a word of defence to make, but, by heaven! I'm going to win +my wife's love if I can, and when I do it I'll make up for all my cursed +foolishness--see if I don't." + +"That sounds well, Frank," was the quiet reply. "I like to hear you talk +that way. You would be very foolish if you did not. What do you think +of the child?" + +"Can you ask me what I think? He is a splendid little fellow." + +"Take care of him, then--take good care of him: you may never have +another," was the grim rejoinder. Frank winced. His brother rose, took +his arm, and said: "Let us go to our rooms, Frank. There will be time +enough to talk later, and I am not so young as I once was." + +Truth to say, Richard Armour was not so young as he seemed a few months +before. His shoulders were a little stooped, he was greyer about the +temples. The little bit of cynicism which had appeared in that remark +about the care of the child showed also in the lines of his mouth; yet +his eyes had the same old true, honest look. But a man cannot be hit in +mortal places once or twice in his life without its being etched on his +face or dropped like a pinch of aloe from his tongue. + +Still they sat and talked much longer, Frank showing better than when his +brother came, Richard gone grey and tired. At last Richard rose and +motioned towards the window. "See, Frank," he said, "it is morning." +Then he went and lifted the blind. The grey, unpurged air oozed on the +glass. The light was breaking over the tops of the houses. A crossing- +sweeper early to his task, or holding the key of the street, went +pottering by, and a policeman glanced up at them as he passed. Richard +drew down the curtain again. + +"Dick," said Frank suddenly, "you look old. I wonder if I have changed +as much?" + +Six months before, Frank Armour would have said hat his brother looked +young. + +"Oh, you look young enough, Frank," was the reply. "But I am a good deal +older than I was five years ago. . . Come, let us go to bed." + + + + +CHAPTER X + +THOU KNOWEST THE SECRETS OF OUR HEARTS + +And Lali? How had the night gone for her? When she rose from the +child's cot, where her lips had caught the warmth that her husband had +left on them, she stood for a moment bewildered in the middle of the +room. She looked at the door out of which he had gone, her bosom beating +hard, her heart throbbing so that it hurt her--that she could have cried +out from mere physical pain. The wifedom in her was plundering the wild +stores of her generous soul for the man, for--as Richard had said that +day, that memorable day!--the father of her child. But the woman, the +pure translated woman, who was born anew when this frail life in its pink +and white glory crept out into the dazzling world, shrank back, as any +girl might shrink that had not known marriage. This child had come--from +what?--She shuddered now--how many times had she done so since she first +waked to the vulgar sacrilege of her marriage? She knew now that every +good mother, when her first child is born, takes it in her arms, and, all +her agony gone, and the ineffable peace of delivered motherhood come, +speaks the name of its father, and calls it his child. But--she +remembered it now--when her child was born, this little waif, the fruit +of a man's hot, malicious hour, she wrapped it in her arms, pressed its +delicate flesh to the silken folds of her bosom, and weeping, whispered +only: "My child, my little, little child!" + +She had never, as many a wife far from her husband has done, talked to +her child of its father, told it of his beauty and his virtues, arrayed +it day by day in sweet linen and pretty adornments, as if he were just +then knocking at her door; she had never imagined what he would say when +he did come. What could such a father think of his child, born of a +woman whose very life he had intended as an insult? No, she had loved +it for father and mother also. She had tried to be good, a good mother, +living a life unutterably lonely, hard in all that it involved of study, +new duty, translation, and burial of primitive emotions. And with all +the care and tearful watchfulness that had been needed, she had grown so +proud, so exacting--exacting for her child, proud for herself. + +How could she know now that this hasty declaration of affection was +anything more than the mere man in him? Years ago she had not been able +to judge between love and insult--what guarantee had she here? Did he +think that she could believe in him? She was not the woman he had +married, he was not the man she had married. He had deceived her basely +--she had been a common chattel. She had been miserable enough--could +she give herself over to his flying emotions again so suddenly? + +She paced the room, her face now in her hands, her hands now clasping and +wringing before her. Her wifely duty? She straightened to that. Duty! +She was first and before all a good, unpolluted woman. No, no, it could +not be. Love him? Again she shrank. Then came flooding on her that +afternoon when she had flung herself on Richard's breast, and all those +hundred days of happiness in Richard's company--Richard the considerate, +the strong, who had stood so by his honour in an hour of peril. + +Now as she thought of it a hot wave shivered through all her body, and +tingled to her hair. Her face again dropped in her hands, and, as on +that other day, she knelt beside the cot, and, bursting into tears, +said through her sobs: "My baby, my own dear baby! Oh, that we could go +away--away--and never come back again!" + +She did not know how intense her sobs were. They waked the child from +its delicate sleep; its blue eyes opened wide and wise all on the +instant, its round soft arm ran up to its mother's neck, and it said: +"Don't c'y! I want to s'eep wif you! I'se so s'eepy!" + +She caught the child to her wet face, smiled at it through her tears, +went with it to her own bed, put it away in the deep whiteness, kissed +it, and fondled it away again into the heaven of sleep. When this was +done she felt calmer. How she hungered over it! This--this could not be +denied her. This, at least, was all hers, without clause or reservation, +an absolute love, and an absolute right. + +She disrobed and drew in beside the child, and its little dewy cheek +touching her breast seemed to ease the ache in her soul. + +But sleep would not come. All the past four years trooped by, with their +thousand incidents magnified in the sharp, throbbing light of her mind, +and at last she knew and saw clearly what was before her, what trials, +what duty, and what honour demanded--her honour. + +Richard? Once for all she gently put him away from her into that +infinite distance of fine respect which a good woman can feel, who has +known what she and Richard had known--and set aside. But he had made for +her so high a standard, that for one to be measured thereby was a severe +challenge. + + +Could Frank come even to that measure? She dared not try to answer the +question. She feared, she shrank, she grew sick at heart. She did not +reckon with that other thing, that powerful, infinite influence which +ties a woman, she knows not how or why, to the man who led her to the +world of motherhood. Through all the wrongs which she may suffer by him, +there runs this cable of unhappy attraction, testified to by how many +sorrowful lives! + +But Lali was trying to think it out, not only to feel, and she did not +count that subterranean force which must play its part in this new +situation in her drama of life. Could she love him? She crept away out +of the haven where her child was, put on her dressing-gown, went to the +window, and looked out upon the night, all unconscious that her husband +was looking at her from the Square below. Love him?--Love him?--Love +him? Could she? Did he love her? Her eyes wandered over the Square. +Nowhere else was there a light, but a chimney-flue was creaking +somewhere. It jarred on her so that she shrank. Then all at once she +smiled to think how she had changed. Four years ago she could have slept +amid the hammers of a foundry. The noise ceased. Her eyes passed from +the cloud of trees in the Square to the sky-all stars, and restful deep +blue. That--that was the same. How she knew it! Orion and Ashtaroth, +and Mars and the Pleiades, and the long trail of the Milky Way. As a +little child hanging in the trees, or sprawled beside a tepee, she had +made friends with them all, even as she learned and loved all the signs +of the earth beneath--the twist of a blade of grass, the portent in the +cry of a river-hen, the colour of a star, the smell of a wind. She had +known Nature then, now she knew men. And knowing them, and having +suffered, and sick at heart as she was, standing by this window in the +dead of night, the cry that shook her softly was not of her new life, +but of the old, primitive, child-like. + +'Pasagathe, omarki kethose kolokani vorgantha pestorondikat Oni.' + +"A spear hath pierced me, and the smart of the nettle is in my wound. +Maker of the soft night, bind my wounds with sleep, lest I cry out and be +a coward and unworthy." + +Again and again, unconsciously, the words passed from her lips + +'Vorganthe, pestorondikat Oni.' + +At last she let down the blind, came to the bed, and once more gathered +her child in her arms with an infinite hunger. This love was hers--rich, +untrammelled, and so sacred. No matter what came, and she did not know +what would come, she had the child. There was a kind of ecstasy in it, +and she lay and trembled with the feeling, but at last fell into a +troubled sleep. + +She waked suddenly to hear footsteps passing her door. She listened. +One footstep was heavier than the other--heavier and a little stumbling; +she recognised them, Frank and Richard. In that moment her heart +hardened. Frank Armour must tread a difficult road. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +UPON THE HIGHWAY + +Frank visited the child in the morning, and was received with a casual +interest. Richard Joseph Armour was fastidious, was not to be won at the +grand gallop. Besides, he had just had a visit from his uncle, and the +good taste of that gay time was yet in his mouth. He did not resent the +embraces, but he did not respond to them, and he straightened himself +with relief when the assault was over. Some one was paying homage to +him, that was all he knew; but for his own satisfaction and pleasure he +preferred as yet his old comrades, Edward Lambert, Captain Vidall, +General Armour, and, above all, Richard. He only showed real interest +at the last, when he asked, as it were in compromise, if his father would +give him a sword. No one had ever talked to him of his father, and he +had no instinct for him so far as could be seen. The sword was, +therefore, after the manner of a concession. Frank rashly promised it, +and was promptly told by Marion that it couldn't be; and she was backed +by Captain Vidall, who said it had already been tabooed, and Frank wasn't +to come in and ask for favours or expect them. + +The husband and wife met at breakfast. He was down first. When his wife +entered, he came to her, they touched hands, and she presently took a +seat beside him. More than once he paused suddenly in his eating, when +he thought of his inexplicable case. He was now face to face with a +reversed situation. He had once picked up a pebble from the brown dirt +of a prairie, that he might toss it into the pool of this home life; and +he had tossed it, and from the sweet bath there had come out a precious +stone, which he longed to wear, and knew that he could not--not yet. +He could have coerced a lower being, but for his manhood's sake--he had +risen to that now, it is curious how the dignity of fatherhood helps to +make a man--he could not coerce here, and if he did, he knew that the +product would be disaster. + +He listened to her talk with Marion and Captain Vidall. Her voice +was musical, balanced, her language breathed; it had manner, and an +indescribable cadence of intelligence, joined to a deliberation, which +touched her off with distinction. When she spoke to him--and she seemed +to do that as by studied intention and with tact at certain intervals-- +her manner was composed and kind. She had resolved on her part. She +asked him about his journey over, about his plans for the day, and if +he had decided to ride with her in the Park,--he could have the general's +mount, she was sure, for the general was not going that day,--and would +he mind doing a little errand for her afterwards in Regent Street, for +the child--she feared she herself would not have time? + +Just then General Armour entered, and, passing behind her, kissed her on +the cheek, dropping his hand on Frank's shoulder at the same time with a +hearty greeting. Of course, Frank could have his mount, he said. Mrs. +Armour did not come down, but she sent word by Richard, who entered last, +that she would be glad to see Frank for a moment before he left for the +Park. As of old, Richard took both Lali's hands in his, patted them, and +cheerily said: + +"Well, well, Lali, we've got the wild man home again safe and sound, +haven't we--the same old vagabond? We'll have to turn him into a +Christian again--'For while the lamp holds out to burn'--" + +He did not give her time to reply, but their eyes met honestly, kindly, +and from the look they both passed into life and time again with a fresh +courage. She did not know, nor did he, how near they had been to an +abyss; and neither ever knew. One furtive glance at the moment, one +hesitating pressure of the hand, one movement of the head from each +other's gaze, and there had been unhappiness for them all. But they +were safe. + +In the Park, Frank and his wife talked little. They met many who greeted +them cordially, and numbers of Frank's old club friends summoned him to +the sacred fires at his earliest opportunity. The two talked chiefly of +the people they met, and Frank thrilled with admiration at his wife's +gentle judgment of everybody. + +"The true thing, absolutely the true thing," he said; and he was +conscious, too, that her instincts were right and searching, for once or +twice he saw her face chill a little when they met one or two men whose +reputations as chevaliers des dames were pronounced. These men had had +one or two confusing minutes with Lali in their time. + +"How splendidly you ride!" he said, as he came up swiftly to her, after +having chatted for a moment with Edward Lambert. "You sit like wax, and +so entirely easy." + +"Thank you," she said. "I suppose I really like it too well to ride +badly, and then I began young on horses not so good as Musket here-- +bareback, too!" she added, with a little soft irony. + +He thought--she did not, however--that she was referring to that first +letter he sent home to his people, when he consigned her, like any other +awkward freight, to their care. He flushed to his eyes. It cut him +deep, but her eyes only had a distant, dreamy look which conveyed nothing +of the sting in her words. Like most men, he had a touch of vanity too, +and he might have resented the words vaguely, had he not remembered his +talk with his mother an hour before. + +She had begged him to have patience, she had made him promise that he +would not in any circumstance say an ungentle or bitter thing, that he +would bide the effort of constant devotion, and his love of the child. +Especially must he try to reach her through love of the child. + +By which it will be seen that Mrs. Armour had come to some wisdom by +reason of her love for Frank's wife and child. + +"My son," she had said, "through the child is the surest way, believe me; +for only a mother can understand what that means, how much and how far it +goes. You are a father, but until last night you never had the flush of +that love in your veins. You stand yet only at the door of that life +which has done more to guide, save, instruct, and deepen your wife's life +than anything else, though your brother Richard--to whom you owe a debt +that you can never repay--has done much in deed. Be wise, my dear, as I +have learned a little to be since first your wife came. All might easily +have gone wrong. It has all gone well; and we, my son, have tried to do +our duty lovingly, consistently, to dear Lali and the child." + +She made him promise that he would wait, that he would not try to hurry +his wife's affection for him by any spoken or insistent claim. "For, +Frank dear," she said, "you are only legally married, not morally, not as +God can bless--not yet. But I pray that what will sanctify all may come +soon, very soon, to the joy of us all. But again--and I cannot say it +too prayerfully--do not force one little claim that your marriage gave +you, but prove yourself to her, who has cause to distrust you so much. +Will you forgive your mother, my dear, for speaking to you?" + +He had told her then that what she had asked he had intended as his own +course, yet what she had said would keep it in his mind always, for he +was sure it was right. Mrs. Armour had then embraced him, and they +parted. Dealing with Lali had taught them all much of the human heart +that they had never known before, and the result thereof was wisdom. + +They talked casually enough for the rest of the ride, and before they +parted at the door Frank received his commission for Regent Street, and +accepted it with delight, as a schoolboy might a gift. He was absurdly +grateful for any favours from her, any sign of her companionship. They +met at luncheon; then, because Lali had to keep an engagement in Eaton +Square, they parted again, and Frank and Richard took a walk, after a +long hour with the child, who still so hungered for his sword that Frank +disobeyed orders, and dragged Richard off to Oxford Street to get one. +He was reduced to a beatific attitude of submission, for he knew that he +had few odds with him now, and that he must live by virtue of new +virtues. He was no longer proud of himself in any way, and he knew that +no one else was, or rather he felt so, and that was just the same. + +He talked of the boy, he talked of his wife, he laid plans, he tore them +down, he built them up again, he asked advice, he did not wait to hear +it, but rambled on, excited, eager. Truth is, there had suddenly been +lifted from his mind the dread and shadow of four years. Wherever he had +gone, whatever he had been or done, that dread shadow had followed him, +and now to know that instead of having to endure a hell he had to win a +heaven, and to feel as if his brain had been opened and a mass of vapours +and naughty little mannikins of remorse had been let out, was a trifle +intoxicating even to a man of his usual vigour and early acquaintance +with exciting things. + +"Dick, Dick!" he said enthusiastically, "you've been royal. You always +were better than any chap I ever knew. You're always doing for others. +Hang it, Dick, where does your fun come in? Nobody seems ever to do +anything for you." + +Richard gave his arm a squeeze. "Never mind about me, boy. I've had all +the fun I want, and all I'm likely to get, and so long as you're all +willing to have me around, I'm satisfied. There's always a lot to do +among the people in the village, one way and another, and I've a heap of +reading on, and what more does a fellow want?" + +"You didn't always feel that way, Dick?" + +"No. You see, at different times in life you want different kinds of +pleasures. I've had a good many kinds, and the present kind is about as +satisfactory as any." + +"But, Dick, you ought to get married. You've got coin, you've got sense, +you're a bit distinguished-looking, and I'll back your heart against a +thousand bishops. You've never been in danger of making a fool of +yourself as I have. Why didn't you--why don't you--get married?" + +Richard patted his brother's shoulder. + +"Married, boy? Married? I've got too much on my hands. I've got to +bring you up yet. And when that's done I shall have to write a book +called 'How to bring up a Parent.' Then I've got to help bring your boy +up, as I've done these last three years and more. I've got to think of +that boy for a long while yet, for I know him better than you do, and I +shall need some of my coin to carry out my plans." + +"God bless you, Dick! Bring me up as you will, only bring her along too; +and as for the boy, you're far more his father than I am. And mother +says that it's you that's given me the wife I've got now--so what can I +say?--what can I say?" + +It was the middle of the Green Park, and Richard turned and clasped Frank +by both shoulders. + +"Say? Say that you'll stand by the thing you swore to one mad day in the +West as well as any man that ever lived--'to have and to hold, to love +and to cherish from this day forth till death us do part, Amen.'" + +Richard's voice was low and full of a strange, searching something. + +Frank, wondering at this great affection and fondness of his brother, +looked him in the eyes warmly, solemnly, and replied: "For richer or for +poorer, for better or for worse, in sickness and in health--so help me +God, and her kindness and forgiveness!" + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +"THE CHASE OF THE YELLOW SWAN" + +Frank and Lali did not meet until dinner was announced. The conversation +at dinner was mainly upon the return to Greyhope, which was fixed for the +following morning, and it was deftly kept gay and superficial by Marion +and Richard and Captain Vidall, until General Armour became reminiscent, +and held the interest of the table through a dozen little incidents +of camp and barrack life until the ladies rose. There had been an +engagement for late in the evening, but it had been given up because +of Frank's home-coming, and there was to be a family gathering merely-- +for Captain Vidall was now as much one of the family as Frank or Richard, +by virtue of his approaching marriage with Marion. The men left alone, +General Armour questioned Frank freely about life in the Hudson's Bay +country, and the conversation ran on idly till it was time to join the +ladies. + +When they reached the drawing-room, Marion was seated at the piano, +playing a rhapsody of Raff's, and Mrs. Armour and Lali were seated side +by side. Frank thrilled at seeing his wife's hand in his mother's. +Marion nodded over the piano at the men, and presently played a snatch +of Carmen, then wandered off into the barbaric strength of Tannhauser, +and as suddenly again into the ballet music of Faust. + +"Why so wilful, my girl?" asked her father, who had a keen taste for +music. "Why this tangle? Let us have something definite." + +Marion sprang up from the piano. "I can't. I'm not definite myself +to-night." Then, turning to Lali: "Lali dear, sing something--do! +Sing my favourite, 'The Chase of the Yellow Swan.'" + +This was a song which in the later days at Greyhope, Lali had sung for +Marion, first in her own language, with the few notes of an Indian chant, +and afterwards, by the help of the celebrated musician who had taught her +both music and singing, both of which she had learned but slowly, it was +translated and set to music. Lali looked Marion steadily in the eyes for +a moment and then rose. It cost her something to do this thing, for +while she had often talked much and long with Richard about that old +life, it now seemed as if she were to sing it to one who would not quite +understand why she should sing it at all, or what was her real attitude +towards her past--that she looked upon it from the infinite distance of +affectionate pity, knowledge, and indescribable change, and yet loved the +inspiring atmosphere and mystery of that lonely North, which once in the +veins never leaves it--never. Would he understand that she was feeling, +not the common detail of the lodge and the camp-fire and the Company's +post, but the deep spirit of Nature, filtering through the senses in a +thousand ways--the wild ducks' flight, the sweet smell of the balsam, +the exquisite gallop of the deer, the powder of the frost, the sun and +snow and blue plains of water, the thrilling eternity of plain and the +splendid steps of the hills, which led away by stair and entresol to the +Kimash Hills, the Hills of the Mighty Men? + +She did not know what he would think, and again on second thought she +determined to make him, by this song, contrast her as she was when he +married her, and now--how she herself could look upon that past +unabashed, speak of it without blushing, sing of it with pride, having +reached a point where she could look down and say: "This was the way by +which I came." + +She rose, and was accompanied to the piano by General Armour, Frank +admiring her soft, springing steps, her figure so girlish and lissom. +She paused for a little before she began. Her eyes showed for a moment +over the piano, deep, burning, in-looking; then they veiled; her fingers +touched the keys, wandered over them in a few strange, soft chords, +paused, wandered again, more firmly and very intimately, and then she +sang. Her voice was a good contralto, well balanced, true, of no great +range, but within its compass melodious, and having some inexpressible +charm of temperament. Frank did not need to strain his ears to hear the +words; every one came clear, searching, delicately valued: + + "In the flash of the singing dawn, + At the door of the Great One, + The joy of his lodge knelt down, + Knelt down, and her hair in the sun + Shone like showering dust, + And her eyes were as eyes of the fawn. + And she cried to her lord, + 'O my lord, O my life, + From the desert I come; + From the hills of the Dawn.' + And he lifted the curtain and said, + 'Hast thou seen It, the Yellow Swan?' + + "And she lifted her head, and her eyes + Were as lights in the dark, + And her hands folded slow on her breast, + And her face was as one who has seen + The gods and the place where they dwell; + And she said: 'Is it meet that I kneel, + That I kneel as I speak to my lord?' + And he answered her: 'Nay, but to stand, + And to sit by my side; + But speak, thou hast followed the trail, + Hast thou found It, the Yellow Swan?' + + "And she stood as a queen, and her voice + Was as one who hath seen the Hills, + The Hills of the Mighty Men, + And hath heard them cry in the night, + Hath heard them call in the dawn, + Hath seen It, the Yellow Swan. + And she said: 'It is not for my lord;' + And she murmured, 'I cannot tell, + But my lord must go as I went, + And my lord must come as I came, + And my lord shall be wise.' + + "And he cried in his wrath, + 'What is thine, it is mine, + And thine eyes are my eyes + Thou shalt speak of the Yellow Swan!' + But she answered him: 'Nay, though I die. + I have lain in the nest of the Swan, + I have heard, I have known; + When thine eyes too have seen, + When thine ears too have heard, + Thou shalt do with me then as thou wilt!' + + "And he lifted his hand to strike, + And he straightened his spear to slay, + But a great light struck on his eyes, + And he heard the rushing of wings, + And his long spear fell from his hand, + And a terrible stillness came. + And when the spell passed from his eyes, + He stood in his doorway alone, + And gone was the queen of his soul, + And gone was the Yellow Swan." + +Frank Armour listened as in a dream. The song had the wild swing of +savage life, the deep sweetness of a monotone, but it had also the fine +intelligence, the subtle allusiveness of romance. He could read between +the lines. The allegory touched him where his nerves were sensitive. +Where she had gone he could not go until his eyes had seen and known +what hers had seen and known; he could not grasp his happiness all in a +moment; she was no longer at his feet, but equal with him, and wiser than +he. She had not meant the song to be allusive when she began, but to +speak to him through it by singing the heathen song as his own sister +might sing it. As the song went on, however, she felt the inherent +suggestion in it, so that when she had finished it required all her +strength to get up calmly, come among them again, and listen to their +praises and thanks. She had no particular wish to be alone with Frank +just yet, but the others soon arranged themselves so that the husband +and wife were left in a cosey corner of the room. + +Lali's heart fluttered a little at first, for the day had been trying, +and she was not as strong as she could wish. Admirably as she had gone +through the season, it had worn on her, and her constitution had become +sensitive and delicate, while yet strong. The life had almost refined +her too much. Always on the watch that she should do exactly as Marion +or Mrs. Armour, always so sensitive as to what was required of her, +always preparing for this very time, now that it had come, and her heart +and mind were strong, her body seemed to weaken. Once or twice during +the day she had felt a little faint, but it had passed off, and she had +scolded herself. She did not wish a serious talk with her husband +to-night, but she saw now that it was inevitable. + +He said to her as he sat down beside her: "You sing very well indeed. +The song is full of meaning, and you bring it all out." + +"I am glad you like it," she responded conventionally. "Of course it's +an unusual song for an English drawing-room." + +"As you sing it, it would be beautiful and acceptable anywhere, Lali." + +"Thank you again," she answered, closing and unclosing her fan, her eyes +wandering to where Mrs. Armour was. She wished she could escape, for she +did not feel like talking, and yet though the man was her husband she +could not say that she was too tired to talk; she must be polite. Then, +with a little dainty malice: "It is more interesting, though, in the +vernacular--and costume!" + +"Not unless you sang it so," he answered gallantly, and with a kind of +earnestness. + +"You have not forgotten the way of London men," she rejoined. + +"Perhaps that is well, for I do not know the way of women," he said, with +a faint bitterness. "Yet, I don't speak unadvisedly in this,"--here he +meant to be a little bold and bring the talk to the past,--"for I heard +you sing that song once before." + +She turned on him half puzzled, a little nervous. "Where did you hear me +sing it?" + +He had made up his mind, wisely enough, to speak with much openness and +some tact also, if possible. "It was on the Glow Worm River at the Clip +Claw Hills. I came into your father's camp one evening in the autumn, +hungry and tired and knocked about. I was given the next tent to yours. +It was night, and just before I turned in I heard your voice singing. I +couldn't understand much of the language, but I had the sense of it, and +I know it when I hear it again." + +"Yes, I remember singing it that night," she said. "Next day was the +Feast of the Yellow Swan." + +Her eyes presently became dreamy, and her face took on a distant, rapt +look. She sat looking straight before her for a moment. + +He did not speak, for he interpreted the look aright, and he was going to +be patient, to wait. + +"Tell me of my father," she said. "You have been kind to him?" + +He winced a little. "When I left Fort Charles he was very well," he +said, "and he asked me to tell you to come some day. He also has sent +you a half-dozen silver-fox skins, a sash, and moccasins made by his own +hands. The things are not yet unpacked." + +Moccasins?--She remembered when last she had moccasins on her feet--the +day she rode the horse at the quick-set hedge, and nearly lost her life. +How very distant that all was, and yet how near too! Suddenly she +remembered also why she took that mad ride, and her heart hardened a +little. + +"You have been kind to my father since I left?" she asked. + +He met her eyes steadily. "No, not always; not more than I have been +kind to you. But at the last, yes." Suddenly his voice became intensely +direct and honest. "Lali," he continued, "there is much that I want to +say to you." She waved her hand in a wearied fashion. "I want to tell +you that I would do the hardest penance if I could wipe out these last +four years." + +"Penance?" she said dreamily--"penance? What guarantee of happiness +would that be? One would not wish another to do penance if--" + +She paused. + +"I understand," he said--"if one cared--if one loved. Yes, I understand. +But that does not alter the force or meaning of the wish. I swear to you +that I repent with all my heart--the first wrong to you, the long +absence--the neglect--everything." + +She turned slowly to him. "Everything-Everything?" she repeated after +him. "Do you understand what that means? Do you know a woman's heart? +No. Do you know what a shameful neglect is at the most pitiful time in +your life? No. How can a man know! He has a thousand things--the woman +has nothing, nothing at all except the refuge of home, that for which she +gave up everything!" + +Presently she broke off, and something sprang up and caught her in the +throat. Years of indignation were at work in her. "I have had a home," +she said, in a low, thrilling voice--"a good home; but what did that cost +you? Not one honest sentiment of pity, kindness, or solicitude. You +clothed me, fed me, abandoned me, as--how can one say it? Do I not know, +if coming back you had found me as you expected to find me, what the +result would have been? Do I not know? You would have endured me if I +did not thrust myself upon you, for you have after all a sense of legal +duty, a kind of stubborn honour. But you would have made my life such +that some day one or both of us would have died suddenly. For"--she +looked him with a hot clearness in the eyes--"for there is just so much +that a woman can bear. I wish this talk had not come now, but, since +it has come, it is better to speak plainly. You see, you misunderstand. +A heathen has a heart as another--has a life to be spoiled or made happy +as another. Had there been one honest passion in your treatment of me-- +in your marrying me--there would be something on which to base mutual +respect, which is more or less necessary when one is expected to love. +But--but I will not speak more of it, for it chokes me, the insult to me, +not as I was, but as I am. Then it would probably have driven me mad, +if I had known; now it eats into my life like rust." + +He made a motion as if to take her hands, but lifting them away quietly +she said: "You forget that there are others present, as well as the fact +that we can talk better without demonstration." + +He was about to speak, but she stopped him. "No, wait," she said; +"for I want to say a little more. I was only an Indian girl, but you +must remember that I had also in my veins good white blood, Scotch blood. +Perhaps it was that which drew me to you then--for Lali the Indian girl +loved you. Life had been to me pleasant enough--without care, without +misery, open, strong and free; our people were not as those others which +had learned the white man's vices. We loved the hunt, the camp-fires, +the sacred feasts, the legends of the Mighty Men; and the earth was a +good friend, whom we knew as the child knows its mother." + +She paused. Something seemed to arrest her attention. Frank followed +her eyes. She was watching Captain Vidall and Marion. He guessed what +she was thinking--how different her own wooing had been from theirs, how +concerning her courtship she had not one sweet memory--the thing that +keeps alive more love and loyalty in this world than anything else. +Presently General Armour joined them, and Frank's opportunity was over +for the present. + +Captain Vidall and Marion were engaged in a very earnest conversation, +though it might not appear so to observers. + +"Come, now, Marion," he said protestingly, "don't be impossible. Please +give the day a name. Don't you think we've waited about long enough?" + +"There was a man in the Bible who served seven years." + +"I've served over three in India since I met you at the well, and that +counts double. Why so particular to a day? It's a bit Jewish. Anyhow, +that seven years was rough on Rachel." + +"How, Hume? Because she got passee?" + +"Well, that counted; but do you suppose that Jew was going to put in +those seven years without interest? Don't you believe it. Rachel paid +capital and interest back, or Jacob was no Jew. Tell me, Marion, when +shall it be?" + +"Hume, for a man who has trifled away years in India, you are strangely +impatient." + +"Mrs. Lambert says that I have the sweetest disposition." + +"My dear sir!" + +"Don't look at me like that at this distance, or I shall have to wear +goggles, as the man did who went courting the Sun." + +"How supremely ridiculous you are! And I thought you such a sensible, +serious man." + +"Mrs. Lambert put that in your head. We used to meet at the annual +dinners of the Bible Society." + +"Why do you tell me such stuff?" + +"It's a fact. Her father and my aunt were in that swim, and we were +sympathisers." + +"Mercenary people!" + +"It worked very well in her case; not so well in mine. But we conceived +a profound respect for each other then. But tell me, Marion, when is it +to be? Why put off the inevitable?" + +"It isn't inevitable--and I'm only twenty-three." + + "Only twenty-three, + And as good fish in the sea" + +he responded, laughing. "Yes, but you've set the precedent for a +courtship of four years and a bit, and what man could face it?" + +"You did." + +"Yes, but I wasn't advertised of the fact beforehand. Suppose I had seen +the notice at the start: 'This mortgage cannot be raised inside of four +years--and a bit!' There's a limit to human endurance." + +"Why shouldn't I hold to the number, but alter the years to days?" + +"You wouldn't dare. A woman must live up to her reputation." + +"Indeed? What an ambition!" + +"And a man to his manners." + +"An unknown quantity." + +"And a lover to his promises." + +"A book of jokes." Marion had developed a taste for satire. + +"Which reminds me of Lady Halwood and Mrs. Lambert. Lady Halwood was +more impertinent than usual the other day at the Sinclairs' show, and had +a little fling at Mrs. Lambert. The talk turned on gowns. Lady Halwood +was much interested at once. She has a weakness that way. 'Why,' said +she, 'I like these fashions this year, but I'm not sure that they suit +me. They're the same as when the Queen came to the throne.' 'Well,' +said Mrs. Lambert sweetly, 'if they suited you then--' There was an +audible titter, and Mrs. Lambert had an enemy for life." + +"I don't see the point of your story in this connection." + +"No? Well, it was merely to suggest that if you had to live up to this +scheme of four-years' probation, other people besides lovers would make +up books of jokes, and--" + +"That's like a man--to threaten." + +"Yes, I threaten--on my knees." + +"Hume, how long do you think Frank will have to wait?" + +They were sitting where they had a good view of the husband and wife, and +Vidall, after a moment, said: "I don't know. She has waited four years, +too; now it looks as if, like Jacob, she was going to gather in her +shekels of interest compounded." + +"It isn't going to be a bit pleasant to watch." + +"But you won't be here to see." + +Marion ignored the suggestion. "She seems to have hardened since he came +yesterday. I hardly know her; and yet she looks awfully worn to-night, +don't you think?" + +"Yes, as if she had to keep a hand on herself. But it'll come out all +right in the end, you'll see." + +"Yes, of course; but she might be sensible and fall in love with Frank at +once. That's what she did when--" + +"When she didn't know man." + +"Yes, but where would you all be if we women acted on what we know of +you?" + +"On our knees chiefly, as I am. Remember this, Marion, that half a +sinner is better than no man." + +"You mean that no man is better than half a saint?" + +"How you must admire me!" + +"Why?" + +"As you are about to name the day, I assume that I'm a whole saint in +your eyes." + +"St. Augustine!" + +"Who was he?" + +"A man that reformed." + +"Before or after marriage?" + +"Before, I suppose." + +"I don't think he died happy." + +"Why not?" + +"I've a faint recollection that he was boiled." + +"Don't be horrid. What has that to do with it?" + +"Nothing, perhaps. But he probably broke out again after marriage, and +sank at last into that caldron. That's what it means by being-steeped in +crime." + +"How utterly nonsensical you are!" + +"I feel light-headed. You've been at sea, on a yacht becalmed, haven't +you? when along comes a groundswell, and as you rock in the sun there +comes trouble, and your head goes round like a top? Now, that's my case. +I've been becalmed four years, and while I pray for a little wind to take +me--home, you rock me in the trough of uncertainty. Suspense is very +gall and wormwood. You know what the jailer said to the criminal who was +hanging on a reprieve: 'Rope deferred maketh the heart sick.' Marion, +give me the hour, or give me the rope." + +"The rope enough to hang yourself?" + +She suddenly reached up and pulled a hair from her head. She laid it in +his hand-a long brown silken thread. "Hume," she said airily yet gently, +"there is the rope. Can you love me for a month of Sundays?" + +"Yes, for ever and a day!" + +"I will cancel the day, and take your bond for the rest. I will be +generous. I will marry you in two months-and a day." + +"My dearest girl!"--he drew her hand into both of his--"I can't have you +more generous than myself, I'll throw off the month." But his eyes were +shining very seriously, though his mouth smiled. + +"Two months and a day," she repeated. + +"We must all bundle off to Greyhope to-morrow," came General Armour's +voice across the room. "Down comes the baby, cradle and all." + +Lali rose. "I am very tired," she said; "I think I will say good-night." + +"I'll go and see the boy with you," Frank said, rising also. + +Lali turned towards Marion. Marion's face was flushed, and had a sweet, +happy confusion. With a low, trembling good-night to Captain Vidall, a +hurried kiss on her mother's cheek, and a tip-toed caress on her father's +head, she ran and linked her arm in Lali's, and together they proceeded +to the child's room. Richard was there when they arrived, mending a +broken toy. Two hours later, the brothers parted at Frank's door. + +"Reaping the whirlwind, Dick?" Frank said, dropping his hand on his +brother's arm. + +Richard pointed to the child's room. + +"Nonsense! Do you want all the world at once? You are reaping the +forgiveness of your sins." Somehow Richard's voice was a little stern. + +"I was thinking of my devilry, Dick. That's the whirlwind--here!" His +hand dropped on his breast. + +"That's where it ought to be. Good-night." + +"Good-night." + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +A LIVING POEM + +Part of Frank's most trying interview, next to the meeting with his wife, +was that with Mackenzie, who had been his special commissioner in the +movement of his masquerade. Mackenzie also had learned a great deal +since she had brought Lali--home. She, like others, had come to care +truly for the sweet barbarian, and served her with a grim kind of +reverence. Just in proportion as this had increased, her respect for +Frank had decreased. No man can keep a front of dignity in the face of +an unbecoming action. However, Mackenzie had her moment, and when it was +over, the new life began at no general disadvantage to Frank. To all +save the immediate family Frank and Lali were a companionable husband and +wife. She rode with him, occasionally walked with him, now and again +sang to him, and they appeared in the streets of St. Albans and at the +Abbey together, and oftener still in the village church near, where the +Armours of many generations were proclaimed of much account in the solid +virtues of tomb and tablet. + +The day had gone by when Lali attracted any especial notice among the +villagers, and she enjoyed the quiet beauty and earnestness of the +service. But she received a shock one Sunday. She had been nervous all +the week, she could not tell why, and others remarked how her face had +taken on a new sensitiveness, a delicate anxiety, and that her strength +was not what it had been. As, for instance, after riding she required to +rest, a thing before unknown, and she often lay down for an hour before +dinner. Then, too, at table once she grew suddenly pale and swayed +against Edward Lambert, who was sitting next to her. She would not, +however, leave the table, but sat the dinner out, to Frank's +apprehension. He was devoted, but it was clear to Marion and her mother +at least that his attentions were trying to her. They seemed to put her +under an obligation which to meet was a trial. There is nothing more +wearing to a woman than affectionate attentions from a man who has claims +upon her, but whom she does not love. These same attentions from one who +has no claims give her a thrill of pleasure. It is useless to ask for +justice in such a matter. These things are governed by no law; and +rightly so, else the world would be in good time a loveless multitude, +held together only by the hungering ties of parent and child. + +But this Sunday wherein Lali received a shock. She did not know that the +banns for Marion's and Captain Vidall's marriage were to be announced, +and at the time her thoughts were far away. She was recalled to herself +by the clergyman's voice pronouncing their names, and saying: "If any of +you do know cause or just impediment why these two people should not be +joined together in the bonds of holy matrimony, ye are to declare it." +All at once there came back to her her own marriage when the Protestant +missionary, in his nasal monotone, mumbled these very words, not as if he +expected that any human being would, or could, offer objection. + +She almost sprang from her seat now. Her nerves all at once came to such +a tension that she could have cried out. Why had there been no one there +at her marriage to say: "I forbid it"? How shameful it had all been! +And the first kiss her husband had given her had the flavour of brandy! +If she could but turn back the hands upon the clock of Time! Under the +influence of the music and the excited condition of her nerves, the event +became magnified, distorted; it burned into her brain. It was not made +less poignant by the sermon from the text: "Mene, Mene, Tekel, Upharsin." +When the words were first announced in the original, it sounded like her +own language, save that it was softer, and her heart throbbed fast. Then +came the interpretation: "Thou art weighed in the balance and found +wanting." + +Then suddenly swept over her a new feeling, one she had never felt +before. Up to this point a determination to justify her child, to +reverse the verdict of the world, to turn her husband's sin upon himself, +had made her defiant, even bitter; in all things eager to live up to her +new life, to the standard that Richard had by manner and suggestion, +rather than by words, laid down for her. But now there came in upon her +a flood of despair. At best she was only of this race through one-third +of her parentage, and education and refinement and all things could do no +more than make her possible. There must always be in the record: "She +was of a strange people. She was born in a wigwam." She did not know +that failing health was really the cause of this lapse of self- +confidence, this growing self-depreciation, this languor for which she +could not account. She found that she could not toss the child and +frolic with it as she had done; she was conscious that within a month +there had stolen upon her the desire to be much alone, to avoid noises +and bustle--it irritated her. She found herself thinking more and more +of her father, her father to whom she had never written one line since +she had left the North. She had had good reasons for not writing-- +writing could do no good whatever, particularly to a man who could not +read, and who would not have understood her new life if he had read. Yet +now she seemed not to know why she had not written, and to blame herself +for neglect and forgetfulness. It weighed on her. Why had she ever been +taken from the place of tamarack-trees and the sweeping prairie grass? +No, no, she was not, after all, fit for this life. She had been +mistaken, and Richard had been mistaken--Richard, who was so wise. The +London season? Ah! that was because people had found a novelty, and +herself of better manners than had been expected. + +The house was now full of preparations for the wedding. It stared her in +the face every day, almost every hour. Dressmakers, milliners, tailors, +and all those other necessary people. Did the others think what all this +meant to her? It was impossible that they should. When Marion came back +from town at night and told of her trials among the dressmakers, when she +asked the general opinion and sometimes individual judgment, she could +not know that it was at the expense of Lali's nerves. + +Lali, when she married, had changed her moccasins, combed her hair, and +put on a fine red belt, and that was all. She was not envious now, not +at all. But somehow it all was a deadly kind of evidence against herself +and her marriage. Her reproach was public, the world knew it, and no +woman can forgive a public shame, even was it brought about by a man she +loved, or loves. Her chiefest property in life is her self-esteem and +her name before the world. Rob her of these, and her heaven has fallen, +and if a man has shifted the foundations of her peace, there is no +forgiveness for him till her Paradise has been reconquered. So busy were +all the others that they did not see how her strength was failing. There +were three weeks between the day the banns were announced and the day of +the wedding, which was to be in the village church, not in town; for, as +Marion said, she had seen too many marriages for one day's triumph and +criticism; she wanted hers where there would be neither triumph nor +criticism, but among people who had known her from her childhood up. +A happy romance had raised Marion's point of view. + +Meanwhile Frank was winning the confidence of his own child, who, +however, ranked Richard higher always, and became to a degree his +father's tyrant. But Frank's nature was undergoing a change. His point +of view also had enlarged. The suffering, bitterness, and humiliation of +his life in the North had done him good. He was being disciplined to +take his position as a husband and father, but he sometimes grew heavy- +hearted when he saw how his attentions oppressed his wife, and had it not +been for Richard he might probably have brought on disaster, for the +position was trying to all concerned. A few days before the wedding +Edward Lambert and his wife arrived, and he, Captain Vidall, and Frank +Armour took rides and walks together, or set the world right in the +billiard-room. Richard seldom joined them, though their efforts to +induce him to do so were many. He had his pensioners, his books, his +pipe, and "the boy," and he had returned in all respects, in so far as +could be seen, to his old life, save for the new and larger interest of +his nephew. + +One evening the three men with General Armour were all gathered in the +billiard-room. Conversation had been general and without particular +force, as it always is when merely civic or political matters are under +view. But some one gave a social twist to the talk, and presently they +were launched upon that sea where every man provides his own chart, or he +is a very worm and no man. Each man had been differently trained, each +viewed life from a different stand-point, and yet each had been brought +up in the same social atmosphere, in the same social sets, had imbibed +the same traditions, been moved generally by the same public +considerations. + +"But there's little to be said for a man who doesn't, outwardly at least, +live up to the social necessity," said Lambert. + +"And keep the Ten Commandments in the vulgar tongue," rejoined Vidall. + +"I've lived seventy-odd years, and I've knocked about a good deal in my +time," said the general, "but I've never found that you could make a +breach of social necessity, as you call it, without paying for it one way +or another. The trouble with us when we're young is that we want to get +more out of life than there really is in it. There is not much in it, +after all. You can stand just so much fighting, just so much work, just +so much emotion--and you can stand less emotion than anything else. I'm +sure more men and women break up from a hydrostatic pressure of emotion +than from anything else. Upon my soul, that's so." + +"You are right, General," said Lambert. "The steady way is the best way. +The world is a passable place, if a fellow has a decent income by +inheritance, or can earn a big one, but to be really contented to earn +money it must be a big one, otherwise he is far better pleased to take +the small inherited income. It has a lot of dignity, which the other +can only bring when it is large." + +"That's only true in this country; it's not true in America," said Frank, +"for there the man who doesn't earn money is looked upon as a muff, and +is treated as such. A small inherited income is thought to be a trifle +enervating. But there is a country of emotions, if you like. The +American heart is worn upon the American sleeve, and the American mind is +the most active thing in this world. That's why they grow old so young." + +"I met a woman a year or so ago at dinner," said Vidall, "who looked +forty. She looked it, and she acted it. She was younger than any woman +present, but she seemed older. There was a kind of hopeless languor +about her which struck me as pathetic. Yet she had been beautiful, and +might even have been so when I saw her, if it hadn't been for that look. +It was the look of a person who had no interest in things. And the +person who has no interest in things is the person who once had a great +deal of interest in things, who had too passionate an interest. The +revulsion is always terrible. Too much romance is deadly. It is as +false a stimulant as opium or alcohol, and leaves a corresponding mark. +Well, I heard her history. She was married at fifteen--ran away to be +married; and in spite of the fact that a railway accident nearly took her +husband from her on the night of her marriage--one would have thought +that would make a strong bond--she was soon alive to the attentions that +are given a pretty and--considerate woman. At a ball at Naples, her +husband, having in vain tried to induce her to go home, picked her up +under his arm and carried her out of the ballroom. Then came a couple of +years of opium-eating, fierce social excitement, divorce, new marriage, +and so on, until her husband agreeably decided to live in Nice, while she +lived somewhere else. Four days after I had met her at the dinner I saw +her again. I could scarcely believe my eyes. The woman had changed +completely. She was young again-twenty-five, in face and carriage, in +the eye and hand, in step and voice." + +"Who was the man?" suggested Frank Armour. "A man about her own age, +or a little more, but who was an infant beside her in knowledge of the +world." "She was in love with the fellow? It was a grande passion?" +asked Lambert. + +"In love with him? No, not at all. It was a momentary revival of an +old-possibility." + +"You mean that such women never really love?" + +"Perhaps once, Frank, but only after a fashion. The rest was mere +imitation of their first impulses." + +"And this woman?" + +"Well, the end came sooner than I expected. I tell you I was shocked at +the look in her face when I saw it again. That light had flickered out; +the sensitive alertness of hand, eye, voice, and carriage had died away; +lines had settled in the face, and the face itself had gone cold, with +that hard, cold passiveness which comes from exhausted emotions and a +closed heart. The jewels she wore might have been put upon a statue with +equal effect." + +"It seems to me that we might pitch into men in these things and not make +women the dreadful examples," said a voice from the corner. It was the +voice of Richard, who had but just entered. + +"My dear Dick," said his father, "men don't make such frightful examples, +because these things mean less to men than they do to women. Romance is +an incident to a man; he can even come through an affaire with no ideals +gone, with his mental fineness unimpaired; but it is different with a +woman. She has more emotion than mind, else there were no cradles in the +land. Her standards are set by the rules of the heart, and when she has +broken these rules she has lost her standard too. But to come back, it +is true, I think, as I said, that man or woman must not expect too much +out of life, but be satisfied with what they can get within the normal +courses of society and convention and home, and the end thereof is peace +--yes, upon my soul, it's peace." + +There was something very fine in the blunt, honest words of the old man, +whose name had ever been sweet with honour. + +"And the chief thing is that a man live up to his own standard," said +Lambert. "Isn't that so, Dick?--you're the wise man." + +"Every man should have laws of his own, I should think; commandments of +his own, for every man has a different set of circumstances wherein to +work--or worry." + +"The wisest man I ever knew," said Frank, dropping his cigar, "was a +little French-Canadian trapper up in the Saskatchewan country. A priest +asked him one day what was the best thing in life, and he answered: 'For +a young man's mind to be old, and an old man's heart to be young.' The +priest asked him how that could be. And he said: 'Good food, a good +woman to teach him when he is young, and a child to teach him when he is +old.' Then the priest said: 'What about the Church and the love of God?' +The little man thought a little, and then said: 'Well, it is the same-- +the love of man and woman came first in the world, then the child, then +God in the garden.' Afterwards he made a little speech of good-bye to +us, for we were going to the south while he remained in a fork of the Far +Off River. It was like some ancient blessing: that we should always have +a safe tent and no sorrow as we travelled; that we should always have a +cache for our food, and food for our cache; that we should never find a +tree that would not give sap, nor a field that would not grow grain; that +our bees should not freeze in winter, and that the honey should be thick, +and the comb break like snow in the teeth; that we keep hearts like the +morning, and that we come slow to the Four Corners where man says Good- +night." + +Each of the other men present wondered at that instant if Frank Armour +would, or could, have said this with the same feelings two months before. +He seemed almost transformed. + +"It reminds me," said the general, "of an inscription from an Egyptian +monument which an officer of the First put into English verse for me +years ago: + + "Fair be the garden where their loves shall dwell, + Safe be the highway where their feet may go, + Rich be the fields wherein their hands may toil, + The fountains many where their good wines flow. + Full be their harvest-bins with corn and oil, + To sorrow may their humour be a foil; + Quick be their hearts all wise delights to know, + Tardy their footsteps to the gate Farewell." + +There was a moment's silence after he had finished, and then there was +noise without, a sound of pattering feet; the door flew open, and in ran +a little figure in white--young Richard in his bed-gown, who had broken +away from his nurse, and had made his way to the billiard-room, where he +knew his uncle had gone. + +The child's face was flashing with mischief and adventure. He ran in +among the group, and stretched out his hands with a little fighting air. +His uncle Richard made a step towards him, but he ran back; his father +made as if to take him in his arms, but he evaded him. Presently the +door opened, the nurse entered, the child sprang from among the group, +and ran with a laughing defiance to the farthest end of the room, and, +leaning his chin on the billiard-table, flashed a look of defiant humour +at his pursuer. Presently the door opened again, and the figure of the +mother appeared. All at once the child's face altered; he stood +perfectly still, and waited for his mother to come to him. Lali had not +spoken, and she did not speak until, lifting the child, she came the +length of the billiard-table and faced them. + +"I beg your pardon," she said, "for intruding; but Richard has led +us a dance, and I suppose the mother may go where her child goes." + +"The mother and the child are always welcome wherever they go," said +General Armour quietly. + +All the men had risen to their feet, and they made a kind of semicircle +before her. The white-robed child had clasped its arms about her neck, +and nestled its face against hers, as if, with perfect satisfaction, it +had got to the end of its adventure; but the look of humour was still in +the eyes as they ran from Richard to his father and back again. + +Frank Armour stepped forwards and took the child's hand, as it rested on +the mother's shoulder. Lali's face underwent a slight change as her +husband's fingers touched her neck. + +"I must go," she said. "I hope I have not broken up a serious +conversation--or were you not so serious after all?" she said, glancing +archly at General Armour. "We were talking of women," said Lambert. + +"The subject is wide," replied Lali, "and the speakers many. One would +think some wisdom might be got in such a case." + +"Believe me, we were not trying to understand the subject," said Captain +Vidall; "the most that a mere man can do is to appreciate it." + +"There are some things that are hidden from the struggling mind of man, +and are revealed unto babes and the mothers of babes," said General +Armour gravely, as, reaching out his hands, he took the child from the +mother's arms, kissed it full upon the lips, and added: "Men do not +understand women, because men's minds have not been trained in the same +school. When once a man has mastered the very alphabet of motherhood, +then he shall have mastered the mind of woman; but I, at least, refuse to +say that I do not understand, from the stand-point of modern cynicism." + +"Ah, General, General!" said Lambert, "we have lost the chivalric way of +saying things, which belongs to your generation." + +By this time the wife had reached the door. She turned and held out her +arms for the child. General Armour came and placed the boy where he had +found it, and, with eyes suddenly filling, laid both his hands upon +Lali's and they clasped the child, and said: "It is worth while to have +lived so long and to have seen so much." Her eyes met his in a wistful, +anxious expression, shifted to those of her husband, dropped to the +cheeks of the child, and with the whispered word, which no one, not even +the general, heard, she passed from the room, the nurse following her. + +Perhaps some of the most striking contrasts are achieved in the least +melodramatic way. The sudden incursion of the child and its mother into +the group, the effect of their presence, and their soft departure, +leaving behind them, as it were, a trail of light, changed the whole +atmosphere of the room, as though some new life had been breathed into +it, charged each mind with new sensations, and gave each figure new +attitude. Not a man present but had had his full swing with the world, +none worse than most men, none better than most, save that each had +latent in him a good sense of honour concerning all civic and domestic +virtues. They were not men of sentimentality; they were not accustomed +to exposing their hearts upon their sleeve, but each, as the door closed, +recognised that something for one instant had come in among them, had +made their past conversation to appear meagre, crude, and lacking in both +height and depth. Somehow, they seemed to feel, although no words +expressed the thought, that for an instant they were in the presence of a +wisdom greater than any wisdom of a man's smoking-room. + +"It is wonderful, wonderful," said the general slowly, and no man asked +him why he said it, or what was wonderful. But Richard, sitting apart, +watched Frank's face acutely, himself wondering when the hour would come +that the wife would forgive her husband, and this situation so fraught +with danger would be relieved. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +ON THE EDGE OF A FUTURE + +At last the day of the wedding came, a beautiful September day, which may +be more beautiful in uncertain England than anywhere else. Lali had been +strangely quiet all the day before, and she had also seemed strangely +delicate. Perhaps, or perhaps not, she felt the crisis was approaching. +It is probable that when the mind has been strained for a long time, and +the heart and body suffered much, one sees a calamity vaguely, and cannot +define it; appreciates it, and does not know it. She came to Marion's +room about a half-hour before they were to start for the church. Marion +was already dressed and ready, save for the few final touches, which, +though they have been given a dozen times, must still again be given +just before the bride starts for the church. Such is the anxious mind +of women on these occasions. The two stood and looked at each other a +moment, each wondering what were the thoughts of the other. Lali was +struck by that high, proud look over which lay a glamour of infinite +satisfaction, of sweetness, which comes to every good woman's face when +she goes to the altar in a marriage which is not contingent on the rise +or fall in stocks, or a satisfactory settlement. Marion, looking, saw, +as if it had been revealed to her all at once, the intense and miraculous +change which had come over the young wife, even within the past two +months. Indeed, she had changed as much within that time as within all +the previous four years--that is, she had been brought to a certain point +in her education and experience, where without a newer and deeper +influence she could go no further. That newer and deeper influence had +come, and the result thereof was a woman standing upon the verge of the +real tragedy to her life, which was not in having married the man, but +in facing that marriage with her new intelligence and a transformed soul. +Men can face that sort of thing with a kind of philosophy, not because +men are better or wiser, but because it really means less to them. They +have resources of life, they can bury themselves in their ambitions good +or bad, but a woman can only bury herself in her affections, unless her +heart has been closed; and in that case she herself has lost much of what +made her adorable. And while she may go on with the closed heart and +become a saint, even saintship is hardly sufficient to compensate any man +or woman for a half-lived life. The only thing worth doing in this world +is to live life according to one's convictions--and one's heart. He or +she who sells that fine independence for a mess of pottage, no matter if +the mess be spiced, sells, as the Master said, the immortal part of him. + +And so Lali, just here on the edge of Marion's future, looking into that +mirror, was catching the reflection of her own life. When two women come +so near that, like the lovers in the Tempest, they have changed eyes, in +so far as to read each other's hearts, even indifferently, which is much +where two women are concerned, there is only one resource, and that is to +fall into each other's arms, and to weep if it be convenient, or to hold +their tears for a more fitting occasion; and most people will admit that +tears need not add to a bride's beauty. + +Marion might, therefore, be pardoned if she had her tears in her throat +and not in her eyes, and Lali, if they arose for a moment no higher than +her heart. But they did fall into each other's arms despite veils and +orange blossoms, and somehow Marion had the feeling for Lali that she had +on that first day at Greyhope, four years ago, when standing on the +bridge, the girl looked down into the water, tears dropping on her hands, +and Marion said to her: "Poor girl! poor girl!" The situations were the +same, because Lali had come to a new phase of her life, and what that +phase would be who could tell-happiness or despair? + +The usual person might think that Lali was placing herself and her wifely +affection at a rather high price, but then it is about the only thing +that a woman can place high, even though she be one-third a white woman +and two-thirds an Indian. Here was a beautiful woman, who had run the +gamut of a London season, who had played a pretty social part, admirably +trained therefor by one of the best and most cultured families of +England. Besides, why should any woman sell her affections even to her +husband, bargain away her love, the one thing that sanctifies "what God +hath joined let no man put asunder"? Lali was primitive, she was unlike +so many in a trivial world, but she was right. She might suffer, she +might die, but, after all, there are many things worse than that. Man is +born in a day, and he dies in a day, and the thing is easily over; but to +have a sick heart for three-fourths of one's lifetime is simply to have +death renewed every morning; and life at that price is not worth living. +In this sensitive age we are desperately anxious to save life, as if it +was the really great thing in the world; but in the good, strong times of +the earth--and in these times, indeed, when necessity knows its hour--men +held their lives as lightly as a bird upon the housetop which any chance +stone might drop. + +It is possible that at this moment the two women understood each other +better than they had ever done, and respected each other more. Lali, +recovering herself, spoke a few soft words of congratulation, and then +appeared to busy herself in putting little touches to Marion's dress, +that soft persuasion of fingers which does so much to coax mere cloth +into a sort of living harmony with the body. + +They had no more words of confidence, but in the porch of the church, +Marion, as she passed Lali, caught the slender fingers in her own and +pressed them tenderly. Marion was giving comfort, and yet if she had +been asked why she could not have told. She did not try to define it +further than to say to herself that she herself was having almost too +much happiness. The village was en fete, and peasants lined the street +leading to the church, ready with their hearty God-bless-you's. Lali sat +between her husband and Mrs. Armour, apparently impassive until there +came the question: "Who giveth this woman to be married to this man?" +and General Armour's voice came clear and strong: "I do." Then a soft +little cry broke from her, and she shivered slightly. Mrs. Armour did +not notice, but Frank and Mrs. Lambert heard and saw, and both were +afterwards watchful and solicitous. Frank caught Mrs. Lambert's eye, +and it said, to a little motion of the head: "Do not appear to notice." + +Lali was as if in a dream. She never took her eyes from the group at +the altar until the end, and the two, now man and wife, turned to go into +the vestry. Then she appeared to sink away into herself for a moment, +before she fell into conversation with the others, as they moved towards +the vestry. + +"It was beautiful, wasn't it?" ventured Edward Lambert. + +"The most beautiful wedding I ever saw," she answered, with a little +shadow of meaning; and Lambert guessed that it was the only one she had +seen since she came to England. + +"How well Vidall looked," said Frank, "and as proud as a sultan. Did you +hear what he said, as Marion came up the aisle?" + +"No," responded Lambert. + +"He said, 'By Jove, isn't she fine!' He didn't seem conscious that other +people were present." + +"Well, if a man hasn't some inspirations on his wedding-day when is he to +have them?" said Mrs. Lambert. "For my part, I think that the woman +always does that sort of thing better than a man. It is her really great +occasion, and she masters it--the comedy is all hers." They were just +then entering the vestry. + +"Or the tragedy, as the case may be," said Lali quietly, smiling at +Marion. She had, as it were, recovered herself, and her words had come +with that airy, impersonal tone which permits nothing of what is said in +it to be taken seriously. Something said by the others had recalled her +to herself, and she was now returned very suddenly to the old position of +alertness and social finesse. Something icy seemed to pass over her, and +she immediately lost all self-consciousness, and began to speak to her +husband with less reserve than she had shown since he had come. But he +was not deceived. He saw that at that very instant she was further away +from him than she had ever been. He sighed, in spite of himself, +as Lali, with well-turned words, said some loving greetings to Marion, +and then talked a moment with Captain Vidall. + +"Who can understand a woman?" said Lambert to his wife meaningly. + +"Whoever will," she answered. "How do you mean?" + +"Whoever will wait like the saint upon the pillar, will suffer like the +traveller in the desert; serve like a slave, and demand like a king; have +patience greater than Job; love ceaseless as a fountain in the hills; who +sees in the darkness and is not afraid of light; who distrusts not, +neither believes, but stands ready to be taught; who is prepared for a +kiss this hour and a reproach the next; who turneth neither to right nor +left at her words, but hath an unswerving eye--these shall understand a +woman." + +"I never knew you so philosophical. Where did you get this deliverance +on the subject?" + +"May not even a woman have a moment of inspiration?" + +"I should expect that of my wife." + +"And I should expect that of my husband. It is trite to say that men are +vain; I shall remark that they sit so much in their own light that they +are surprised if another being crosses their disc." + +"You always were clever, my dear, and you always were twice too good for +me." + +"Well, every woman--worth the knowing--is a missionary." + +"Where does Lali come in?" + +"Can you ask? To justify the claims of womanhood in spite of race--and +all." + +"To bring one man to a sense of the duty of sex to sex, eh?" + +"Truly. And is she not doing it well? See her now." They were now just +leaving the church, and Lali had taken General Armour's arm, while +Richard led his mother to the carriage. + +Lali was moving with a little touch of grandeur in her manner and a more +than ordinary deliberation. She had had a moment of great weakness, and +then there had come the reaction--carried almost too far by the force of +the will. She was indeed straining herself too far. Four years of +tension were culminating. + +"See her now, Edward," repeated Mrs. Lambert. "Yes, but if I'm not +mistaken, my dear, she is doing so well that she's going to pieces. +She's overstrung to-day. If it were you, you'd be in hysterics." + +"I believe you are right," was the grave reply. "There will be an end +to this comedy one way or another very soon." + +A moment afterwards they were in a carriage rolling away to Greyhope. + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +THE END OF THE TRAIL + +When Marion was about leaving with her husband for the railway station, +she sought out Lali, and found her standing half hidden by the curtains +of a window, looking out at little Richard, who was parading his pony up +and down before the house. An unutterable sweetness looked out of +Marion's eyes. She had found, as it seemed to her, and as so many have +believed until their lives' end, the secret of existence. Lali saw the +glistening joy, and responded to it, just as it was in her being to +respond to every change of nature--that sensitiveness was in her as +deep as being. + +"You are very happy, dear?" she said to Marion. "You cannot think how +happy, Lali. And I want to say that I feel sure that you will yet be as +happy, even happier than I. Oh, it will come--it will come. And you +have the boy now-so fine, so good." + +Lali looked out to where little Richard disported himself; her eyes +shone, and she turned with a responsive but still sad smile to Marion. +"Marion," she said gently, "the other should have come before he came." +"Frank loves you, Lali." + +"Who knows? And then, oh, I cannot tell! How can one force one's heart? +No, no! One has to wait, and wait, even if the heart grows harder, and +one gets hopeless." + +Marion kissed her on the cheek and smiled. "Some day soon the heart will +open up, and then such a flood will pour out! See, Lali. I am going +now, and our lives won't run together so much again ever, perhaps. But I +want to tell you now that your coming to us has done me a world of good-- +helped me to be a wiser girl; and I ought to be a better woman for it. +Good-bye." + +They were calling to her, and with a hurried embrace the two parted, and +in a few moments the bride and bridegroom were on their way to the new +life. As the carriage disappeared in a turn of the limes, Lali vanished +also to her room. She was not seen at dinner. Mackenzie came to say +that she was not very well, and that she would keep to her room. Frank +sent several times during the evening to inquire after her, and was told +that she was resting comfortably. He did not try to see her, and in this +was wise. He had now fallen into a habit of delicate consideration, +which brought its own reward. He had given up hope of winning her heart +or confidence by storm, and had followed his finer and better instincts-- +had come to the point where he made no claims, and even in his own mind +stood upon no rights. His mother brought him word from Lali before he +retired, to say that she was sorry she could not see him, but giving him +a message and a commission into town the following morning for their son. +Her tact had grown is her strength had declined. There is something in +failing health--ill-health without disease--which sharpens and refines +the faculties, and makes the temper exquisitely sensitive--that is, with +people of a certain good sort. The aplomb and spirited manner in which +Lali had borne herself at the wedding and after, was the last flicker of +her old strength, and of the second phase in her married life. The end +of the first phase came with the ride at the quick-set hedge, this with +a less intent but as active a temper. + +The next morning she did not appear at breakfast, but sent a message to +Frank to say that she was better, and adding another commission for town. +All day, save for an hour on the balcony, she kept to her room, and lay +down for the greater part of the afternoon. In the evening, when Frank +returned, his mother sent for him, and frankly told him that she thought +it would be better for him to go away for a few weeks or so; that Lali +was in a languid, nervous state, and she thought that by the time he got +back--if he would go--she would be better, and that better things would +come for him. + +Frank was no longer the vain, selfish fellow who had married Lali-- +something of the best in him was at work. He understood, and suggested +a couple of weeks with Richard at their little place in Scotland. Also, +he saw his wife for a little while that evening. She had been lying +down, but she disposed herself in a deep chair before he entered. He was +a little shocked to see, as it were all at once, how delicate she looked. +He came and sat down near her, and after a few moments of friendly talk, +in which he spoke solicitously of her health, he told her that he thought +of going up to Scotland with Richard for a few weeks, if she saw no +objection. + +She did not quite understand why he was going. She thought that perhaps +he felt the strain of the situation, and that a little absence would be +good for both. This pleased her. She did not shrink, as she had so +often done since his return, when he laid his hand on hers for an +instant, as he asked her if she were willing that he should go. +Sometimes in the past few weeks she had almost hated him. Now she was +a little sorry for him, but she said that of course he must go; that no +doubt it was good that he should go, and so on, in gentle, allusive +phrases. The next evening she came down to dinner, and was more like +herself as she was before Frank came back, but she ate little, and before +the men came into the drawing-room she had excused herself, and retired; +at which Mrs. Lambert shook her head apprehensively at herself, and made +up her mind to stay at Greyhope longer than she intended. + +Which was good for all concerned; for, two nights after Frank and Richard +had gone, Mackenzie hurried down to the drawing-room with the news that +Lali had been found in a faint on her chamber floor. That was the +beginning of weeks of anxiety, in which Mrs. Lambert was to Mrs. Armour +what Marion would have been, and more; and both to Lali all that mother +and sister could be. + +Their patient was unlike any other that they had known. Feverish, +she had no fever; with a gentle, hacking cough, she had no lung trouble; +nervous, she still was oblivious to very much that went on around her; +hungering often for her child, she would not let him remain long with her +when he came. Her sleep was broken, and she sometimes talked to herself, +whether consciously or unconsciously they did not know. The doctor had +no remedies but tonics--he did not understand the case; but he gently +ventured the opinion that it was mostly a matter of race, that she was +pining because civilisation had been infused into her veins--the old +insufficient theory. + +"Stuff and nonsense!" said General Armour, when his wife told him. +"The girl bloomed till Frank came back. God bless my soul! she's falling +in love, and doesn't know what it is." + +He was only partly right, perhaps, but he was nearer the truth than the +dealer in quinine and a cheap philosophy of life. "She'll come around +all right, you'll see. Decline--decline be hanged! The girl shall live, +--damn it, she shall!" he blurted out, as his wife's eyes filled with +tears. + +Mrs. Lambert was much of the same mind as the general, but went further. +She said to Mrs. Armour that in all her life she had never seen so sweet +a character, so sensitive a mind--a mind whose sorrow was imagination. +And therein the little lady showed herself a person of wisdom. For none +of them had yet reckoned with that one great element in Lali's character +--that thing which is the birthright of all who own the North for a +mother, the awe of imagination, the awe and the pain, which in its finest +expression comes near, very near, to the supernatural. Lali's mind was +all pictures; she never thought of things in words, she saw them; and +everything in her life arrayed itself in a scene before her, made vivid +by her sensitive soul, so much more sensitive now with health failing, +the spirit wearing out the body. There was her malady--the sick heart +and mind. + +A new sickness wore upon her. It had not touched her from the day she +left the North until she sang "The Chase of the Yellow Swan" that first +evening after Frank's return. Ever since then her father was much in her +mind--the memory of her childhood, and its sweet, inspiring friendship +with Nature. All the roughness and coarseness of the life was refined +in her memory by the exquisite atmosphere of the North, the good sweet +earth, the strong bracing wind, the camaraderie of trees and streams and +grass and animals. And in it all stood her father, whom she had left +alone, in that interminable interval between the old life and the new. + +Had she done right? She had cut him off, as if he had never been--her +people, her country also; and for what? For this--for this sinking +sense, this failing body, this wear and tear of mind and heart, this +constant study to be possible where she had once been declared by the +world to be impossible. + +One night she lay sleeping after a rather feverish day, when it was +thought best to keep the child from her. Suddenly she waked, and sat up. +Looking straight before her, she said: + +"I will arise, and will go to my Father, and will say unto Him, Father, +I have sinned against heaven and before Thee, and am no more worthy to be +called Thy son." + +She said nothing more than this, and presently lay back, with eyes wide +open, gazing before her. Like this she lay all night long, a strange, +aching look in her face. There had come upon her the sudden impulse to +leave it all, and go back to her father. But the child--that gave her +pause. Towards morning she fell asleep, and slept far on into the day, +a thing that had not occurred for a long time. + +At noon a letter arrived for her. It came into General Armour's hands, +and he, seeing that it bore the stamp of the Hudson's Bay Company, with +the legend, From Fort St. Charles, concluded that it was news of Lali's +father. Then came the question whether the letter should be given to +her. The general was for doing so, and he prevailed. If it were bad +news, he said, it might raise her out of her present apathy and by +changing the play of her emotions do her good in the end. + +The letter was given to her in the afternoon. She took it apathetically, +but presently, seeing where it was from, she opened it hurriedly with a +little cry which was very like a moan too. There were two letters inside +one from the factor at Fort Charles in English, and one from her father +in the Indian language. She read her father's letter first, the other +fluttered to her feet from her lap. General Armour, looking down, saw a +sentence in it which, he felt, warranted him in picking it up, reading +it, and retaining it, his face settling into painful lines as he did so. +Days afterwards, Lali read her father's letter to Mrs. Armour. It ran: + + + My daughter, + + Lali, the sweet noise of the Spring: + + Thy father speaks. + + I have seen more than half a hundred moons come like the sickle and + go like the eye of a running buck, swelling with fire, but I hear + not thy voice at my tent door since the first one came and went. + + Thou art gone. + + Thy face was like the sun on running water; thy hand hung on thy + wrists like the ear of a young deer; thy foot was as soft on the + grass as the rain on a child's cheek; thy words were like snow in + summer, which melts in richness on the hot earth. Thy bow and arrow + hang lonely upon the wall, and thy empty cup is beside the pot. + + Thou art gone. + + Thou hast become great with a great race, and that is well. Our + race is not great, and shall not be, until the hour when the Mighty + Men of the Kimash Hills arise from their sleep and possess the land + again. + + Thou art gone. + + But thou hast seen many worlds, and thou hast learned great things, + and thou and I shall meet no more; for how shall the wise kneel at + the feet of the foolish, as thou didst kneel once at thy father's + feet? + + Thou art gone. + + High on the Clip Claw Hills the trees are green, in the Plain of the + Rolling Stars the wings of the wild fowl are many, and fine is the + mist upon Goldfly Lake; and the heart of Eye-of-the-Moon is strong. + + Thou art here. + + The trail is open to the White Valley, and the Scarlet Hunter hath + saved me, when my feet strayed in the plains and my eyes were + blinded. + + Thou art here. + + I have friends on the Far Off River who show me the yards where the + musk-ox gather; I have found the gardens of the young sable, and my + tents are full of store. + + Thou art here. + + In the morning my spirit is light, and I have harvest where I would + gather, and the stubble is for my foes. In the evening my limbs are + heavy, and I am at rest in my blanket. The hunt is mine and sleep + is mine, and my soul is cheerful when I remember thee. + + Thou art here. + + I have built for thee a place where thy spirit comes. I hear thee + when thou callest to me, and I kneel outside the door, for thou art + wise, and thou speakest to me; but thee as thou art in a far land I + shall see no more. This is my word to thee, that thou mayst know + that I am not alone. Thou shalt not come again, as thou once went; + it is not meet. But by these other ways I will speak to thee. + + Thou art here. + + Farewell. I have spoken. + +Lali finished reading, and then slowly folded up the letter. The writing +was that of the wife of the factor at Fort Charles--she knew it. She +sat for a minute looking straight before her. She read her father's +allegory. Barbarian in so much as her father was, he had beaten this +thing out with the hammer of wisdom. He missed her, but she must not +come back; she had outgrown the old life--he knew it and she was with +him in spirit, in his memory; she understood his picturesque phrases, +borrowed from the large, affluent world about him. Something of the +righteousness and magnanimity of this letter passed into her, giving her +for an instant a sort of peace. She had needed it--needed it to justify +herself, and she had been justified. To return was impossible--she had +known that all along, though she had not admitted it; the struggle had +been but a kind of remorse, after all. That her father should come to +her was also impossible--it was neither for her happiness nor his. She +had been two different persons in her life, and the first was only a +memory to the second. The father had solved the problem for her. He too +was now a memory that she could think on with pleasure, as associated +with the girl she once was. He had been well provided for by her +husband, and General Armour put his hand on hers gently and said: + +"Lali, without your permission I have read this other letter." + +She did not appear curious. She was thinking still of her father's +letter to her. She nodded abstractedly. "Lali," he continued, "this +says that your father wished that letter to be written to you just as he +said it at the Fort, on the day of the Feast of the Yellow Swan. He +stood up--the factor writes so here--and said that he had been thinking +much for years, and that the time had come when he must speak to his +daughter over the seas--" + +General Armour paused. Lali inclined her head, smiled wistfully, and +held up the letter for him to see. The general continued: + +"So he spoke as has been written to you, and then they had the Feast of +the Yellow Swan, and that night--" He paused again, but presently, his +voice a little husky, he went on: "That night he set out on a long +journey,"--he lifted the letter and looked at it, then met the serious +eyes of his daughter-in-law," on a long journey to the Hills of the +Mighty Men; and, my dear, he never came back; for, as he said, there was +peace in the White Valley, and he would rest till the world should come +to its Spring again, and the noise of its coming should be in his ears. +Those, Lali, are his very words." + +His hand closed on hers, he reached out and took the other hand, from +which the paper fluttered, and clasped both tight in his own firm grasp. + +"My daughter," he said, "you have another father." With a low cry, like +that of a fawn struck in the throat, she slid forward on her knees beside +him, and buried her face on his arm. She understood. Her father was +dead. Mrs. Armour came forward, and, kneeling also, drew the dark head +to her bosom. Then that flood came which sweeps away the rust that +gathers in the eyes and breaks through the closed dikes of the heart. + +Hours after, when she had fallen into a deep sleep, General Armour and +his wife met outside her bedroom door. + +"I shall not leave her," Mrs. Armour said. "Send for Frank. His time +has almost come." + +But it would not have come so soon had not something else occurred. The +day that he came back from Scotland he entered his wife's room, prepared +for a change in her, yet he did not find so much to make him happy as he +had hoped. She received him with a gentleness which touched him, she let +her hand rest in his, she seemed glad to have him with her. All bars had +been cast down between them, but he knew that she had not given him all, +and she knew it also. But she hoped he did not know, and she dreaded the +hour when he would speak out of his now full heart. He did not yet urge +his affection on her, he was simply devoted, and watchful, and tender, +and delightedly hopeful. + +But one night she came tapping at his door. When he opened it, she said: +"Oh come, come! Richard is ill! I have sent for the doctor." + +Henceforth she was her old self again, with a transformed spirit, her +motherhood spending itself in a thousand ways. She who was weak bodily +became now much stronger; the light of new vigour came to her eyes; she +and her husband, in the common peril, worked together, thinking little +of themselves, and all of the child. The last stage of the journey to +happiness was being passed, and if it was not obvious to themselves, +the others, Marion and Captain Vidall included, saw it. + +One anxious day, after the family doctor had left the sick child's room, +Marion, turning to the father and mother, said: "Greyhope will be itself +again. I will go and tell Richard that the danger is over." + +As she turned to do so, Richard entered the room. "I have seen the +doctor," he began, "and the little chap is going to pull along like a +house afire." + +Tapping Frank affectionately on the arm, he was about to continue, but +he saw what stopped him. He saw the last move in Frank Armour's tragic- +comedy. He and Marion left the room as quickly as was possible to him, +for, as he said himself, he was "slow at a quick march"; and a moment +afterwards the wife heard without demur her husband's tale of love for +her. + +Yet, as if to remind him of the wrong he had done, Heaven never granted +Frank Armour another child. + + + + +ETEXT EDITOR'S BOOKMARKS: + +Every man should have laws of his own +Flood came which sweeps away the rust that gathers in the eyes +How can one force one's heart? No, no! One has to wait +Man or woman must not expect too much out of life +May be more beautiful in uncertain England than anywhere else +Men are shy with each other where their emotions are in play +Prepared for a kiss this hour and a reproach the next +Romance is an incident to a man +Simply to have death renewed every morning +To sorrow may their humour be a foil +We want to get more out of life than there really is in it +Who can understand a woman? +Worth while to have lived so long and to have seen so much + + + + + + +ETEXT EDITOR'S BOOKMARKS FOR THE ENTIRE "TRANSLATION OF A SAVAGE": + +Being young, she exaggerated the importance of the event +Every man should have laws of his own +Flood came which sweeps away the rust that gathers in the eyes +His duties were many, or he made them so +How can one force one's heart? No, no! One has to wait +If fumbling human fingers do not meddle with it +Man or woman must not expect too much out of life +May be more beautiful in uncertain England than anywhere else +Men must have their bad hours alone +Men are shy with each other where their emotions are in play +Miseries of this world are caused by forcing issues +Most important lessons of life--never to quarrel with a woman +Prepared for a kiss this hour and a reproach the next +Reading a lot and forgetting everything +Romance is an incident to a man +Simply to have death renewed every morning +Sympathy and consolation might be much misplaced +The world never welcomes its deserters +There should be written the one word, "Wait." +There is no influence like the influence of habit +These little pieces of art make life possible +Think of our position +To sorrow may their humour be a foil +Training in the charms of superficiality +We grow away from people against our will +We want to get more out of life than there really is in it +We speak with the straight tongue; it is cowards who lie +Who never knew self-consciousness +Who can understand a woman? +Worth while to have lived so long and to have seen so much +You never can make a scandal less by trying to hide it + + + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TRANSLATION OF A SAVAGE, BY PARKER *** + +*********** This file should be named gp41w10.txt or gp41w10.zip ************ + +Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks get a new NUMBER, gp41w11.txt +VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, gp41w10a.txt + +This eBook was produced by David Widger <widger@cecomet.net> + +Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the US +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we usually do not +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + +We are now trying to release all our eBooks one year in advance +of the official release dates, leaving time for better editing. +Please be encouraged to tell us about any error or corrections, +even years after the official publication date. + +Please note neither this listing nor its contents are final til +midnight of the last day of the month of any such announcement. +The official release date of all Project Gutenberg eBooks is at +Midnight, Central Time, of the last day of the stated month. A +preliminary version may often be posted for suggestion, comment +and editing by those who wish to do so. + +Most people start at our Web sites at: +http://gutenberg.net or +http://promo.net/pg + +These Web sites include award-winning information about Project +Gutenberg, including how to donate, how to help produce our new +eBooks, and how to subscribe to our email newsletter (free!). + + +Those of you who want to download any eBook before announcement +can get to them as follows, and just download by date. This is +also a good way to get them instantly upon announcement, as the +indexes our cataloguers produce obviously take a while after an +announcement goes out in the Project Gutenberg Newsletter. + +http://www.ibiblio.org/gutenberg/etext03 or +ftp://ftp.ibiblio.org/pub/docs/books/gutenberg/etext03 + +Or /etext02, 01, 00, 99, 98, 97, 96, 95, 94, 93, 92, 92, 91 or 90 + +Just search by the first five letters of the filename you want, +as it appears in our Newsletters. + + +Information about Project Gutenberg (one page) + +We produce about two million dollars for each hour we work. The +time it takes us, a rather conservative estimate, is fifty hours +to get any eBook selected, entered, proofread, edited, copyright +searched and analyzed, the copyright letters written, etc. Our +projected audience is one hundred million readers. If the value +per text is nominally estimated at one dollar then we produce $2 +million dollars per hour in 2002 as we release over 100 new text +files per month: 1240 more eBooks in 2001 for a total of 4000+ +We are already on our way to trying for 2000 more eBooks in 2002 +If they reach just 1-2% of the world's population then the total +will reach over half a trillion eBooks given away by year's end. + +The Goal of Project Gutenberg is to Give Away 1 Trillion eBooks! +This is ten thousand titles each to one hundred million readers, +which is only about 4% of the present number of computer users. + +Here is the briefest record of our progress (* means estimated): + +eBooks Year Month + + 1 1971 July + 10 1991 January + 100 1994 January + 1000 1997 August + 1500 1998 October + 2000 1999 December + 2500 2000 December + 3000 2001 November + 4000 2001 October/November + 6000 2002 December* + 9000 2003 November* +10000 2004 January* + + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation has been created +to secure a future for Project Gutenberg into the next millennium. + +We need your donations more than ever! + +As of February, 2002, contributions are being solicited from people +and organizations in: Alabama, Alaska, Arkansas, Connecticut, +Delaware, District of Columbia, Florida, Georgia, Hawaii, Illinois, +Indiana, Iowa, Kansas, Kentucky, Louisiana, Maine, Massachusetts, +Michigan, Mississippi, Missouri, Montana, Nebraska, Nevada, New +Hampshire, New Jersey, New Mexico, New York, North Carolina, Ohio, +Oklahoma, Oregon, Pennsylvania, Rhode Island, South Carolina, South +Dakota, Tennessee, Texas, Utah, Vermont, Virginia, Washington, West +Virginia, Wisconsin, and Wyoming. + +We have filed in all 50 states now, but these are the only ones +that have responded. + +As the requirements for other states are met, additions to this list +will be made and fund raising will begin in the additional states. +Please feel free to ask to check the status of your state. + +In answer to various questions we have received on this: + +We are constantly working on finishing the paperwork to legally +request donations in all 50 states. If your state is not listed and +you would like to know if we have added it since the list you have, +just ask. + +While we cannot solicit donations from people in states where we are +not yet registered, we know of no prohibition against accepting +donations from donors in these states who approach us with an offer to +donate. + +International donations are accepted, but we don't know ANYTHING about +how to make them tax-deductible, or even if they CAN be made +deductible, and don't have the staff to handle it even if there are +ways. + +Donations by check or money order may be sent to: + +Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +PMB 113 +1739 University Ave. +Oxford, MS 38655-4109 + +Contact us if you want to arrange for a wire transfer or payment +method other than by check or money order. + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation has been approved by +the US Internal Revenue Service as a 501(c)(3) organization with EIN +[Employee Identification Number] 64-622154. Donations are +tax-deductible to the maximum extent permitted by law. As fund-raising +requirements for other states are met, additions to this list will be +made and fund-raising will begin in the additional states. + +We need your donations more than ever! + +You can get up to date donation information online at: + +http://www.gutenberg.net/donation.html + + +*** + +If you can't reach Project Gutenberg, +you can always email directly to: + +Michael S. Hart <hart@pobox.com> + +Prof. Hart will answer or forward your message. + +We would prefer to send you information by email. + + +**The Legal Small Print** + + +(Three Pages) + +***START**THE SMALL PRINT!**FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN EBOOKS**START*** +Why is this "Small Print!" statement here? You know: lawyers. +They tell us you might sue us if there is something wrong with +your copy of this eBook, even if you got it for free from +someone other than us, and even if what's wrong is not our +fault. So, among other things, this "Small Print!" statement +disclaims most of our liability to you. It also tells you how +you may distribute copies of this eBook if you want to. + +*BEFORE!* YOU USE OR READ THIS EBOOK +By using or reading any part of this PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm +eBook, you indicate that you understand, agree to and accept +this "Small Print!" statement. If you do not, you can receive +a refund of the money (if any) you paid for this eBook by +sending a request within 30 days of receiving it to the person +you got it from. If you received this eBook on a physical +medium (such as a disk), you must return it with your request. + +ABOUT PROJECT GUTENBERG-TM EBOOKS +This PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm eBook, like most PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm eBooks, +is a "public domain" work distributed by Professor Michael S. Hart +through the Project Gutenberg Association (the "Project"). +Among other things, this means that no one owns a United States copyright +on or for this work, so the Project (and you!) can copy and +distribute it in the United States without permission and +without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, set forth +below, apply if you wish to copy and distribute this eBook +under the "PROJECT GUTENBERG" trademark. + +Please do not use the "PROJECT GUTENBERG" trademark to market +any commercial products without permission. + +To create these eBooks, the Project expends considerable +efforts to identify, transcribe and proofread public domain +works. Despite these efforts, the Project's eBooks and any +medium they may be on may contain "Defects". Among other +things, Defects may take the form of incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other +intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged +disk or other eBook medium, a computer virus, or computer +codes that damage or cannot be read by your equipment. + +LIMITED WARRANTY; DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES +But for the "Right of Replacement or Refund" described below, +[1] Michael Hart and the Foundation (and any other party you may +receive this eBook from as a PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm eBook) disclaims +all liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including +legal fees, and [2] YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE OR +UNDER STRICT LIABILITY, OR FOR BREACH OF WARRANTY OR CONTRACT, +INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE +OR INCIDENTAL DAMAGES, EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE +POSSIBILITY OF SUCH DAMAGES. + +If you discover a Defect in this eBook within 90 days of +receiving it, you can receive a refund of the money (if any) +you paid for it by sending an explanatory note within that +time to the person you received it from. If you received it +on a physical medium, you must return it with your note, and +such person may choose to alternatively give you a replacement +copy. If you received it electronically, such person may +choose to alternatively give you a second opportunity to +receive it electronically. + +THIS EBOOK IS OTHERWISE PROVIDED TO YOU "AS-IS". NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, ARE MADE TO YOU AS +TO THE EBOOK OR ANY MEDIUM IT MAY BE ON, INCLUDING BUT NOT +LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR A +PARTICULAR PURPOSE. + +Some states do not allow disclaimers of implied warranties or +the exclusion or limitation of consequential damages, so the +above disclaimers and exclusions may not apply to you, and you +may have other legal rights. + +INDEMNITY +You will indemnify and hold Michael Hart, the Foundation, +and its trustees and agents, and any volunteers associated +with the production and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm +texts harmless, from all liability, cost and expense, including +legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of the +following that you do or cause: [1] distribution of this eBook, +[2] alteration, modification, or addition to the eBook, +or [3] any Defect. + +DISTRIBUTION UNDER "PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm" +You may distribute copies of this eBook electronically, or by +disk, book or any other medium if you either delete this +"Small Print!" and all other references to Project Gutenberg, +or: + +[1] Only give exact copies of it. Among other things, this + requires that you do not remove, alter or modify the + eBook or this "small print!" statement. You may however, + if you wish, distribute this eBook in machine readable + binary, compressed, mark-up, or proprietary form, + including any form resulting from conversion by word + processing or hypertext software, but only so long as + *EITHER*: + + [*] The eBook, when displayed, is clearly readable, and + does *not* contain characters other than those + intended by the author of the work, although tilde + (~), asterisk (*) and underline (_) characters may + be used to convey punctuation intended by the + author, and additional characters may be used to + indicate hypertext links; OR + + [*] The eBook may be readily converted by the reader at + no expense into plain ASCII, EBCDIC or equivalent + form by the program that displays the eBook (as is + the case, for instance, with most word processors); + OR + + [*] You provide, or agree to also provide on request at + no additional cost, fee or expense, a copy of the + eBook in its original plain ASCII form (or in EBCDIC + or other equivalent proprietary form). + +[2] Honor the eBook refund and replacement provisions of this + "Small Print!" statement. + +[3] Pay a trademark license fee to the Foundation of 20% of the + gross profits you derive calculated using the method you + already use to calculate your applicable taxes. If you + don't derive profits, no royalty is due. Royalties are + payable to "Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation" + the 60 days following each date you prepare (or were + legally required to prepare) your annual (or equivalent + periodic) tax return. Please contact us beforehand to + let us know your plans and to work out the details. + +WHAT IF YOU *WANT* TO SEND MONEY EVEN IF YOU DON'T HAVE TO? +Project Gutenberg is dedicated to increasing the number of +public domain and licensed works that can be freely distributed +in machine readable form. + +The Project gratefully accepts contributions of money, time, +public domain materials, or royalty free copyright licenses. +Money should be paid to the: +"Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +If you are interested in contributing scanning equipment or +software or other items, please contact Michael Hart at: +hart@pobox.com + +[Portions of this eBook's header and trailer may be reprinted only +when distributed free of all fees. Copyright (C) 2001, 2002 by +Michael S. Hart. Project Gutenberg is a TradeMark and may not be +used in any sales of Project Gutenberg eBooks or other materials be +they hardware or software or any other related product without +express permission.] + +*END THE SMALL PRINT! FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN EBOOKS*Ver.02/11/02*END* + diff --git a/old/gp41w10.zip b/old/gp41w10.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..b6ef80d --- /dev/null +++ b/old/gp41w10.zip |