CHAPTER XXVI
GILEAD BALM
"It's a foolish piece of idealism," said Ralph. "But she's had her wayso long I suppose it's impossible now to check her."
The Colonel's irritation exploded. White-haired, hawk-nosed and eyed, alittle stooped now, a good deal shrunken in his black, old-fashioned,aristocratic clothes, he lifted a bloodless hand and made emphasiswith a long forefinger. "Precisely so! One world mistake lay in evergiving property unqualifiedly into a woman's hands, and another inever encouraging occupations outside the household, and so breedingthis independent attitude--an attitude which I for one find themost intolerable feature of this intolerable latter age! I opposedthe Married Woman's Property Act in this state, but the people wereinfatuated and passed it. Married or single, the principle is the same.It is folly to give woman control of any considerable sum of money--"
Mrs. LeGrand, entering the Gilead Balm library, caught the last threesentences. She smiled on the two gentlemen and took her seat upon thesofa. "Money and women are you talking about? Where money comes in,"said Mrs. LeGrand, "I always act under advice. Women know very littleabout finance, and their judgment is rarely to be trusted."
"Just so, my dear friend! It is not in the least," spoke the Colonel,"that I am acquisitive or that it will make any great difference tome personally if Medway's wealth stays in the family or no. What I amcommenting upon is the folly of giving a woman power to do so foolisha thing."
"Hagar always _could_ do foolish things," said Miss Serena, looking upfrom her Mexican drawnwork.
"I don't quite understand yet," said Mrs. LeGrand. "Mrs. Ashendyne wastelling me in the big room yesterday evening, and then some one camein--dear Medway's will left her without proviso all that he had--"
"As was quite proper," said Ralph, "the Colonel to the contrary. Well,the principal comes to considerably over a million dollars--the coolmillion his second wife left him by her will and the settlement shehad already made upon their marriage. The investment is gilt-edged.Altogether it would make Hagar not an extremely rich woman as richesare counted nowadays, but--yes, certainly for the South--a very richwoman. But now comes in your feminine tender conscience--"
"Hagar refuses to put on black," said Miss Serena. "I don't see thatshe's got a tender conscience--"
"The entire amount--everything that came from the fortune--she turnsback to the fund which the second wife established for workingmen'shousing. She states that she agrees with her stepmother's views asto how the fortune was made, and that she does not care to be abeneficiary. She says that her stepmother had evidently given thoughtto the matter and preferred that form of 'restitution' and that heronly duty is simply to return this million and more to the fund alreadyerected, and from which it was diverted for Cousin Medway's benefit."
"Duty!" exclaimed Mrs. LeGrand. "I don't see where 'duty' comes in. Her'duty' is to see that her father was wise for her. If he was contentthere's surely no reason why she should not be so!"
"Hagar," said Miss Serena, "never could see proper distinctions betweenpeople. I don't see that working-people are housed so badly--"
Ralph laughed mirthlessly. "Yes, they are, Cousin Serena! Scarcely anyof them have tiled bathrooms and the best type of porcelain-lined tub,and very few have libraries that'll accommodate more than a thousandvolumes, and quite a number do without nurseries papered with scenesfrom Mother Goose. And as they're all for that kind of housing, they'repreparing to move in--just a little preliminary ousting of a few peoplewith more brains and money and in they go!--cuckoos laying their eggsin abler folks' nests! This is the age of the cuckoo."
"How absurd," said Miss Serena, "Gilead Balm hasn't a tiled bathroom,nor an extremely large library, and when I was a child the nurserywasn't papered at all. But we are perfectly comfortable at Gilead Balm.It's a heinous sin--discontent with your lot in life."
"Do you mean," asked Mrs. LeGrand, "that, against your counsel andadvice, Hagar is really going headstrongly on to do this silly thing?"
"Apparently so. She is," said the Colonel, "of age. There again was amistake--to let women come of age. Perpetual minors--"
Mrs. LeGrand laughed. "Colonel, you are not very gallant!"
The Colonel turned to her. "Oh, my dear friend, you're not the modern,unwomanly type that professes to see something degrading in thesubordination that God and Nature have decreed for woman! Gallant!That's just what I am. Knights and gallantry were for the type that'svanishing, though"--he bowed to Mrs. LeGrand, who had not a little ofher old beauty left--"though here and there is left a shining example!"
Mrs. LeGrand used her fan. "Oh, Colonel, there are many of us who likethe old ways best."
Ralph drummed with his fingers upon the table. "To come back to Hagar--"
Hagar herself entered the room.
She was dressed in white; she was a little thin and pale, for thelast weeks had been trying ones. Habitually she had a glancing way ofranging from an appearance of youth almost girlish to a noble look ofyoung maturity. To-day she looked her thirty-one years, but looked themregally.
Once the Colonel would not have hesitated to hector her, Miss Serenapeevishly to blame what she could not understand, Mrs. LeGrand toattempt smoothly to put her down. All that seemed impossible now. Therewas about her the glamour of successful work, of a known person. Mrs.LeGrand had recently purchased a "Who's Who," and had found her there._Ashendyne, Hagar, author; b. Gilead Balm, in Virginia_, and so on.From various chronicles of the realm of contemporary literature shehad gathered that Hagar's name would be found in yet more exclusivelists than "Who's Who." Of course, all in the room had read much ofwhat she had written, and equally, of course, each of the four had,for temperamental reasons, spokenly or unspokenly depreciated it. Butall knew that she had--though they could not see the justice of herhaving--that standing in the world. Mrs. LeGrand always, with patrons,smoothly brought it in that she had been a pupil at Eglantine. Noneof them knew how much she made by her writing; it was to be supposedit was something, seeing that she was coolly throwing away a milliondollars. There was likewise the glamour of much absence in foreignlands; the undefined feeling that here were novelties of experience andadventure, ground with which she was familiar and they were not. Ofexperience and adventure in psychical lands they took no account. Butit was undeniable that her knowing Europe and Asia and Africa added tothe already considerable difficulty in properly expressing to Hagar howcriminally foolish she was being. Added to that, there was something inherself that prevented it.
Ralph spoke first. "We were talking, Hagar, about your idea of whatto do with Cousin Medway's money. Here are only kinspeople and oldfriends, and we all wish that you wouldn't do it, and think thatthere'll come a day when you'll be sorry--"
The Colonel, leaning back in his chair, stroked his white imperial."I should never have said, Gipsy, that you were the sentimental,beggar-tending kind--"
Hagar's kindly eyes that had travelled from her cousin to hergrandfather, now went on to Mrs. LeGrand. "And you?" they seemed to say.
"Why couldn't you," said Mrs. LeGrand, "do both? Why couldn't you givea handsome donation--give a really large amount to this charity? Andthen why not feel that you had, so to speak, the rest in trust, andgive liberally, so much a year, to all kinds of worthy enterprises? Idon't believe the most benevolent heart could find anything to complainof in that--"
Hagar's eyes went to Miss Serena.
"You ought to take advice," said Miss Serena. "How can you know thatyour judgment is good?"
Hagar gave her eyes to all in company. "It is right that you should saywhat you think. We are all too bound together for one not to be readyto listen and give weight to what the others think. But having doneit, our own judgment has to determine at last, hasn't it? It seems tome that it is right to do what I am doing--what I have done, for it ispractically accomplished. I saw all necessary lawyers and people lastweek in New York. Of course, I hope that you'll come to see it as I do,but if you do not, still I'll hope that you'll believ
e that I am rightin doing what I hold to be right. And now don't let's talk of that anymore."
"What I want to know," said Miss Serena, "is how you're going to live,if you don't take your dead father's support--"
Hagar looked at her in surprise. "Live? Why, live as I have lived foryears--upon what I earn."
"I didn't suppose you could do that.--What _do_ you earn?"
"It depends. Some years more, some years less. I have published a gooddeal and there is a continuing sale. England and America together, I amgood for something more than ten thousand a year."
Miss Serena stared at her. A film seemed to come over her eyes, themuscles of her face slightly worked. "Somewhere about thirty yearsago," she said painfully, "I thought I'd write a book. I'd thoughtof a pretty story. I wrote to a printing and publishing company inRichmond about it, but they wrote back that I'd have to _pay_ to haveit printed."
That night in her bedroom, plethoric with small products of needle,crochet-needle, and paint-box, Miss Serena drew down the shades ofall four windows preparatory to undressing. She was upstairs, therewas a thick screen of cedars and no house or hill or person who couldpossibly command her windows, but she would have been horribly uneasywith undrawn shades. Ready for bed, she always blew out the lamp beforeshe again bared the windows.
Some one knocked at the door. "Who is it?" called Miss Serena, her handupon her dress-waist.
"It's Hagar. May I come in?"
It seemed that Hagar just wanted to talk. And she talked, with charm,of twenty things. Mostly of happenings about the old place. She askedabout the latest panel of garden lilies and cat-tails, and she took thewonderfully embroidered pincushion from the bureau and admired it. "Ithink that I'm going to have an apartment in New York this winter, andif I do, won't you make me a pincushion? And, Aunt Serena, you mustcome sometimes to see me."
"You'll be marrying. You ought to marry Ralph."
"Even so, you could come to see me, couldn't you? But I am not going tomarry Ralph."
Miss Serena stiffened. "The whole family wants you to--" She was uponfamily authority, and the wooing had to be done all over again....
"I saw Thomasine in New York. She's going to live with me as mysecretary. You know that she has been a typewriter and stenographerfor a long time, and they say she is an excellent one. She has beenstudying, too, other things at night, after her long hours. She isas pretty and sweet as ever. When you come, the three of us will dowonderful things together--"
Miss Serena's bosom swelled. "I wonder when Ashendynes and Dales andGreens began to 'do things'--by which I suppose you mean going totheatres and concerts and stores and such things--together! The bottomrail's on top with a vengeance in these days! But your mother beforeyou had no sense of blood."
Hagar sat silent, with a feeling of despair. Then she began again, hersubject the flower garden, and then, at last--"Aunt Serena, tell meabout the story _you_ wanted to write...."
Ralph--Ralph was too insistent, she thought. He found her the nextmorning, under the old sycamore by the river, and he proceeded again tobe insistent.
She stopped him impatiently. "Ralph, do you wish still to be friends,or do you wish me to put you one side of the Equator and myself on theother? I can do it."
"The Equator's an imaginary line."
"You'll find that an imaginary line can change you into a stranger."
"Hagar, I'm used to getting what I set my heart and brain upon."
"So was a gentleman named Napoleon Bonaparte. He got it--up to acertain limit."
"I don't believe you are in earnest. I don't believe you have everreally considered--And I intend one day to make you see--"
"See what? See my enormous advantage in marrying you? Oh, you--man!"
"See that you love me."
"How, you mean, can I help it? Oh, you--featherless biped!"
Ralph broke in two the bit of stick in his hands with a snapping sound."I'm mad for you, and I'd like to pay you out--"
"You are more remotely ancestral than almost any man I know!--Come,come! let us stop this and talk as cousins and old playmates. There'sWall Street left, and who is going to be President, and what are yougoing to do with Hawk Nest."
"What I wanted to do with Hawk Nest was to fix it up for you."
"Oh, Ralph, Ralph! I should laugh at you, but I feel more like crying.The pattern is so criss-cross!" She rose from beneath the sycamore."I'm going back to the house now."
He walked beside her. "Do you remember once I told you I was going tomake a great fortune, and you made light of it? Well, I'm a wealthy manto-day and I shall be a much wealthier one. It grows now automatically.And that I would be powerful. Well, I am powerful to-day, and that,too, grows."
"Oh, Ralph, I wish you well! And if we don't define wealth and poweralike, still your definition is your definition. And if that'syour heart's desire, and I think it is, be happy in your heart'sdesire--until it changes, and then be happier in the change!"
"I have told you what is my heart's desire."
"I will _not_ go back to that. Look! the sumach is turning red."
"Yes, it is very pretty.... You didn't see Sylvie Maine--SylvieCarter--when you were in New York?"
"No. I haven't seen Sylvie since that one first winter there. I wroteto her when I heard of Jack Carter's death."
"That has been three years ago now. She is a very beautiful woman andmuch sought after. I saw a good deal of her last winter.... Yes, thatsumach is getting red. Autumn's coming.... Hagar! I'm not in the leastgoing to give up."
"Ralph, I'm going to advise you to use your business acumen andrecognize an unprofitable enterprise when you see it.... Look at thepainted ladies on that thistle!"
"I'm old-fashioned enough to believe that a man can _make_ a woman lovehim--"
"Are you? Be so good as to let me know when you succeed.--I warn youthat the Equator is getting ready to drop between."
When they passed the cedars and came to the porch steps, it was to findOld Miss sitting in the large chair, her white-stockinged feet firmlyplanted, her key-basket beside her, and her knitting-needles glinting.
"Did you have a pleasant walk?" she asked, and looked at them with acertain massive eagerness.
"Ask Hagar, ma'am. She may have," answered Ralph; and took himselfinto the house. They heard his rather heavy footfall upon the stair.
Hagar sat down on the porch step. "Ralph has, doubtless, a great manygood qualities, but he is spoiled."
Now Old Miss had a favourite project or projects, and that was matingsbetween Coltsworths and Ashendynes. Every few years for perhaps twocenturies such matings had occurred. Many had occurred in her day.With great intensity she wanted and had wanted for years to seea match made between her granddaughter and so promising, nay, soaccomplishing, a Coltsworth as Ralph. She was proud of Ralph--proudof his appearance, of his ability to get on in the world and makemoney and restore Hawk Nest, of his judgment and knowledge of publicaffairs which seemed to her extraordinary. She wanted him to marryHagar, and characteristically she refused to admit the possibility ofdefeat. But Ralph was no longer quite a young man--he ought to havebeen married years ago. As for Hagar--Old Miss loved her granddaughter,but she had very little patience with her. She was not patient withwomen generally. She thought that, on the whole, women were a poorlot--_witness Maria_. Maria lived for Old Miss, lived on one sidein space of her own, core of an atmosphere of smouldering, dullresentment. If Maria had been different, Medway would have lived athome. If Maria had known her duty, there would have been a brood ofgrandchildren to match with broods of Coltsworths and others of rankjust under the first. If Maria had been different, this one grandchildwouldn't be throwing a million dollars away and failing to love hercousin! If Maria hadn't been a wilful piece, Hagar might have escapedbeing a wilful piece. Old Miss loved her granddaughter, but that waswhat she was calling her now in her mind--a wilful piece.
Factors that counted with the others at Gilead Balm, Hagar's veryactual detachment and independence, n
ame and prestige and personality,failed to count with Old Miss.
Such things counted in other cases; they counted in Ralph's case. ButHagar was of the younger, therefore rightfully subordinate, generation,and she was female. Ralph was of the younger generation, also, andas a boy, while Old Miss spoiled him when he came to Gilead Balm,she expected to rule him, too. But Ralph had crossed the Rubicon. Assoon as he grew from young boy to man, some mysterious force placedhim without trouble of his own in the conquering superior class whosedicta must be accepted and whose judgment must be deferred to. The haloappeared about his head. He came up equal with and passed ahead of oldMiss, elder generation to the contrary. But Hagar--Hagar was yet in theclass that was young and couldn't know; she was in the class of the"poor lot." She was a wilful piece.
"I do not see that Ralph is spoiled," said Old Miss. "He receives anatural recognition of his ability and success in life. He is a verysuccessful man, a very able man. He is giving new weight to the familyname. There was a piece in the paper the other day that said the stateought to be proud of Ralph. I cut it out," said Old Miss, "and put itin my scrapbook. I'll show it to you. You ought to read it. I don't seewhy you aren't proud of your cousin."
"I hope I may be.--What are you knitting, grandmother?"
"Any woman might be happy to have Ralph propose to her. And any womanbut your mother's daughter might have some care for family happinessand advantage--"
"Oh, grandmother, would my unhappiness in truth advantage the family?"
"Unhappiness! There's no need for unhappiness. That's your motheragain! Ralph is a splendid man. You ought to feel flattered. I don'tbelieve in marrying without love, certainly not without respect; butwhen you see it is your duty and make your mind submissive you canmanage easily enough to feel both. That's the trouble with you as itwas with your mother before you. You don't see your duty and you don'tmake your mind submissive. I've no patience with you."
"Grandmother," said Hagar, "did you ever realize that you yourself onlymake your mind submissive when it comes into relation with men, orwith ideas advanced by men? I have never seen you humble-minded with awoman."
Old Miss appeared to take this as a startling proposition, and toconsider it for a moment; then, "I don't know what you mean."
"I mean that outraged nature must be itself somewhere--else there'sannihilation."
Old Miss's needles clicked. "I don't pretend to be 'literary,' or tounderstand literary talk. What Moses and St. Paul said and the waywe've always done in Virginia is good enough for me. You're perverseand rebellious as Maria was before you. It's simple obstinacy, your notcaring for Ralph--and as for throwing away Medway's million dollars,there ought to be a law to keep you from doing it!--Are you goingupstairs? My scrapbook is on the fourth shelf of the big closet. Get itand read that piece about Ralph."