CHAPTER XXIX
ROSE DARRAGH
Rose Darragh's short speech, at once caustic and passionate, ended--themeeting ended. Hagar waited below the platform.
Rose Darragh, at last shaking off the crowd, came toward her. "I'vebeen looking at you. I seem, somehow, to know you--"
"And I you. And not--which is strange to me--not through another."
"Is your name Hagar Ashendyne?"
Hagar nodded. "We can't talk well here--"
"I'm in New York for two weeks. Denny's in Chicago and I join himthere. Let me see--where can we meet? Will you come to my flat?"
"Yes; and in a few days I shall have my own rooms. I want to see youthere, too, Rose Darragh."
"I'll come. This is my address. Will you come to-morrow at four?"
Hagar went. Denny had written that the two lived "handy to their work,"and it was apparent that they did. The flat had the dignity of Spartansimplicity. In it Rose Darragh moved with the fire of the ruby.
"Denny had to go about the paper. Oh, it's doing well, the paper! It'sDenny's idol. He serves in the temple day and night, and when the idolasks it, he'll give his heart's blood.... You liked Denny very much,didn't you?--in Nassau, three years ago?"
"Yes, I did." They were sitting in the plain, bare room, attractive,for it was so clean, the late autumn sunlight streaming in at thecurtainless windows. "Yes, I did. I liked him so well that ... I hadsomewhat of a fight with myself.... I am telling you that," said Hagar,"because I want your friendship. It is over now, nor do I think it willcome again."
Rose Darragh gave her a swift look from heel to head. "That's strength.I like strength.... All right! I'm not afraid."
They sat in silence for a moment; then, "I wish you'd tell me," saidHagar, "about your work."
A very few days after this she took possession of the apartment, andat once made it a home. There was a housewarming with Rachel and Bettyand Charley and Elizabeth and Marie and the Josslyns, and two pleasantgentlemen, her publishers, and a fellow-writer or two whom she wasby way of knowing and liking, and an artist, and an old scholar andphilosopher whom she had known abroad and loved and honoured. And therewas Thomasine, a little worn and faded, but with happiness stealingover her, and Mary Magazine busy with the cakes and ale. There couldn'thave been a better housewarming.
Thomasine--Thomasine began to bloom afresh. Factory and departmentstore and business school and office lay behind her--each a stage upona somewhat dull and dusty and ambuscade-beset road of life. Businessschool and office, training for mind and fingers alike, a resulting"place" with a fair-dealing firm--all that was Hagar's helping, amatter of the last six or seven years. And now Hagar had come backand had made Thomasine an offer, and Thomasine closed with it verysimply and gladly. She had from the beginning worked hard and as bestshe could and had given good value for her pay; and now she was goingstill to do all that, but to do it with a singing heart and her hungerfor beauty and fitness fed. The colour came back into her cheeks; shebegan to take on a sprite-like beauty. She brought seriously intoconversation one day the fact that she had always been good at findingfour-leafed clovers.... Jim and Marietta were doing fairly, still overin New Jersey. "Fairly" meant a poor house which Marietta did her bestto keep clean, and two of the children working, and the city for summerand winter, and Jim's pay envelope neither larger nor heavier, but thecost of living both. But Jim had his "job," and Marietta was not soailing as she used to be, and the two children brought in a little,and Thomasine helped each month; so they might be said to be doingmuch better than many others. There was even talk of being able oneday to get--the whole family being fond of music--one of the cheaperphonographs.
Hagar and Thomasine worked through the mornings, Hagar thinking,remembering, creating; Thomasine taking from her the labour of record;caring also for her letters and the keeping of accounts and all small,recurring business. And Thomasine loved to do any shopping that aroseto be done,--which was well, for Hagar hated shopping,--and lovedto keep the apartment "just so." The two lived in quiet, harmoniousintercourse, together in working hours, but when working hours wereover, each going freely her individual way. Thomasine, too, hadfriends. She wrote to Jim and Marietta and to Maggie at home, takingcare of the mother with the spine, that she hadn't been so happy sincethey used to go to grandmother's at Gilead Balm....
Rose Darragh--Rose Darragh had not been at Hagar's housewarming.She was speaking that night in Newark. But some days afterwards shecame--came late one afternoon with the statement that she had theevening free. She and Thomasine and Hagar dined in the caf? together,but Thomasine hurried through her dinner, for she was going to thetheatre with a fellow-stenographer with whom she had worked fortwo years downtown, and who was "such a nice girl," and with thestenographer's brother, who looked like a nice brother. Hagar and RoseDarragh, left at the table, sipped their coffee.
A quality of Rose Darragh's came out. She observed and deduced, to theamusement of herself and of others, with the swiftness and accuracyof M. Dupin or of Mr. Sherlock Holmes. They had a small corner tablecommanding the long, bright room. "Twenty tables," she said. "Men andwomen and a fair number of children. Not proportionately so large anumber as once there would have been, and that is well, the bawlers ofrace-suicide to the contrary!--I'm interested in the women just now.Man's had the centre of the stage for so long!--and, of course, we knowthat this is the Century of the Child--see cotton-mills, glass-works,and canneries. But Woman--Woman's just coming out of the wings....There's rather an interesting collection here to-night. Do you know anyof them?"
"I have spoken casually to several. I have been here, you know, onlythe shortest time."
"There's a woman over there who has a wonderful face--brooding andwise.... A teacher isn't she? I should say she was not married."
"Yes; she is a teacher, and single."
"There's a woman who is a nurse."
"Yes. There's a sick child in that family. But she is not in uniformto-night."
"I know her all the same. She's a good nurse. There are those who areand those who aren't. But she's got strength and poise and knows whatshe is about and is kind.--Those two women over there--"
"Yes. What do you make of them?"
"There's such a glitter of diamonds you can't see the women. Poorthings!--to be beings of a single element--to live in a world of purecarbon--to be the hardest thing there is, and yet be so brittle too!...The woman next them is good ordinary: nothing remarkable, and yetpleasant enough. The worst that can be said of her is that she doesn'tdiscriminate. If the broth lacks salt, she never knows it."
"And the two over there with the stout man?"
Rose Darragh gazed a moment with eyes slightly narrowed. "Oh, those!"she said. "Those are our adapted women--perilously near adapted, atany rate. That's a sucking wife and daughter. Take your premise thatin the divine order of things the male opens the folds of his being,surrounds, encloses, 'shelters' and 'protects' and 'provides for' yourfemale in season and out of season, when there is need, and when thereis certainly none, and your further premise that the female is willingand ruthlessly logical--and behold the supremely natural conclusion!...Daughters of the horse leech--and perfectly respectable members ofsociety as constituted! Faugh!--with their mouths glued to that fatman's pocket. He looks haggard, and at the moment he's probablygrinding the faces of no end of men and women,--not because he's got abad heart and really wants to,--but because he's got to 'provide' forthose two perfectly strong and healthy persons in jewelry and orchids!He's cowed by tradition into accepting the monstrous position, and he'sweak enough to let them define what is 'provision.' He's got to keepfilling and filling the pocket because they suck so fast."
"Do you think they can change?"
"They can be forced to change. They don't want to change, any more thanthe copepod wants to change. And logically, while he persists in hispresent attitude, the man can't ask them to change. He can't keep hiscake and eat it too." She drank her coffee. "That very stout gentlemanwh
o is being driven to bankruptcy, or to ways that are queer, is justthe kind to strike the table with his fist and violently to assureyou that God meant Woman, lovely Woman! to be dependent upon Man, andthat it is with deep regret that he sees woman crowding into industryand beating at the doors of the professions--Woman, Wife and Mother,God bless her! Do you notice how they always put Wife first? If theAssociation Opposed to the Extension of the Franchise to Women askedhim to-night for a contribution, they'd probably get it."
"How numerous do you think are those women?"
"The copepods? Numerous enough, pity 'tis! But not so numerous as,given the System, you might fairly expect: numerous positively, but notrelatively. And a lot of them have simply succumbed to environmentalpressure. Given a generation or two of rational training and a noblerideal of what befits a human being, and the copepod will yet succourherself.... Denny and I see more of the other kind. The drudgesoutnumber the copepods, and neither need be.... There's a girl overthere I like--the one with the braided hair. Many of the young girls ofto-day are rather wonderful. It's going to be interesting to see whatthey'll do when they're older, and what their daughters will do. She'sgot a fine head--mathematics, I should think."
They went down together.
In the large and comfortable half study, half drawing-room with theshaded lights, with the sea-like sound of the city without the windows,with the books and pictures, they walked a little to and fro together,and at last paused before a window and looked forth--the firmamentstudded with lights above and the city studded with lights below."There's a noble word called Work," said Rose Darragh, "and we havedegraded it into Toil, on the one hand, and it has a strong enemycalled False Ideals, on the other. What I ask of Life is that I may beone of the helpers to save Work from Toil and False Ideals."
They watched the lights in silence, then turned back to the softglowing room. When each had taken a deep chair on either side of thegreat library table, they still kept silent. Rose Darragh sat erect,lithe, strong, embrowned, a wine red in her cheeks. As in the picturethat Hagar remembered, her strong throat rose clear from a blouse ofthe simplest make, only a soft dark silk instead of wool in honourof the evening. Her skirt was of dark cheviot. She wore no stays,it was evident, and needed none. Her hair, of a warm chestnut, wavyand bright, was cut to about the length worn by Byron and Keats andShelley.... To a marked extent she was interest-provoking; there wasfelt a powerful nature, rich and indomitable.
Presently she spoke. "Denny will be home next week. Don't you want meto take you one day to see the shrine where he keeps his idol and watchhim providing acceptable sacrifice? It's rich--the editorial room of'Onward!'"
"Yes, I should like it very much."
"Then we'll go down some morning soon. There's a place near the templewhere they give you a decent omelette and cheese. We'll all three gothere for luncheon.... Denny's fine."
"I'm very sure of that."
"Yes, warp and woof, he's sincere--and that's what I worship,sincerity! And he's able. He strikes more narrowly than I do, but hestrikes deep. We've lived and worked together now eight years. We'veseen hard times together. We've nearly starved together. We've made aname and come out together. And, bigger than our own fates, we've seenour Cause bludgeoned and seen it lift its bleeding head. We've knowntogether impersonal sorrow and joy, humbling and pride, fear and faith,despair and hope. Denny and I are the best friends. We've been loversin the flesh, but there's something better than that between us." Sheturned square to the light and Hagar. "That's the truest truth, and yetI want to tell you that I think you've always been to him a kind ofunearthly and spiritual romance. He's kept you lifted, moving above himin the clouds, beckoning, with a light about you. And I want to tellyou that I have not grudged that--"
"I spoke to you as I did the other day," said Hagar, "because, somehow,I had that impulse. It was not necessary that I should do so; that ofwhich I spoke had long passed." She rose and walked slowly back andforth in the room. "When I bethought myself, that month in Nassau,of where I--not he--was drifting ... I was able then to leave thatcurrent, and leave it not to re?nter. That was three years ago. I begyou to believe that that temptation, if it was a temptation, is farbehind me. My soul will not return that way, cannot return that way....And now I simply want to be friends."
"I'll meet you there. I like you too much not to want to. You seem tome one of those rare ones who find their lamp and refuge in themselves."
"And I like you, extraordinarily. I should like to work with you."
"There is nothing," said Rose Darragh, "any easier to arrange thanthat."