CHAPTER XV
WHICH DEVELOPS THE COLONEL'S FINANCIAL STRATEGY
To Judith Blanchard the publication of her sister's engagement was anexperience. Hourly Beth came to show a new letter or present, and withhead at Judith's shoulder sighed because people were so kind. Wheneverthis happened, the image of Mather grew a little clearer in Judith'sheart, and that of Ellis so much less distinct. At the same time thererose in Judith a dread of those vague misfortunes which Jim might bringon Beth, and when one evening Ellis came to call, he found Judithinspired with a desire to protect her sister against knowledge of thereal hard-heartedness of the world.
"Your sister is very happy," he said after glancing at the table onwhich the presents were displayed. "May she always remain so!"
Judith turned on him with a curious energy. "You think she may not?"
"I hope she may," was all he would reply.
Judith studied him for a moment, then her eyes softened. "I am very fondof Beth," she said. "We all know Jim; among us we must teach him to bemore of a man."
She spoke simply, but her words moved Ellis; her assumption that he wascapable of human, domestic feeling almost roused it in him, and as attheir first meeting he felt that she could make him better than himself.With the mist of sisterly affection shed upon her eyes, Judith wassweeter than he had ever known her; yet at the same time a knowledge ofher pricelessness came to him, and he feared this softer side of her asthe one on which she would be strongest in defense: it was Mather'sside. The sole feelings which Ellis knew himself capable of rousing inher were ambition and the admiration of great things; he felt that hemust keep them constantly before her.
"I have some news for you," he said. And so he found himself safely inthe back parlour just as the door-bell rang for another visitor.
It was Mather who came; Beth met him with thanks for the roses he hadsent, perishable signs of good wishes. Jim had grumbled at the flowers:"Why doesn't he send something practical?" But Beth had been delighted,and now told Mather so, calling Wayne to her side to echo her words.Next she spoke with still deeper gratitude, alluding to the positionwhich had been given Jim.
"And you are glad," Mather asked, "because after this you can't see somuch of him?"
"Ah," Beth replied shyly, "we shall the sooner be able to see each otherall the time."
"But don't thank me," Mather continued. "It was Pease's idea. Thank meif Jim _keeps_ his place." He nodded at the young man with a meaningwhich was not exactly jovial, and which Jim (being like others of hisage, half-loutish and half-assertive) resented accordingly. So Jim gothimself away, to talk aimless commonplaces with the next visitor, Pease,and to glare at Mather as he still spoke with Beth.
"He's prepared to be a father to me," Jim grumbled, for, in the businesstalk already held, Mather had laid down application and steadiness asrequisites. Jim had taken the warning indifferently, whence the renewedhint, purposely given for Beth's benefit, as Jim appreciated. "Now," hethought, "she'll rub it into me."
Meanwhile Mather and Beth spoke of matrimony, and exchangedconventionalities while they struggled with deep thoughts. They feltthat they understood each other; besides, each had at the same time aregret for the other's fate. Thus Beth, with her knowledge of Ellis inthe back parlour, pitied Mather, who in his turn grieved that Jim'sweaknesses were unknown to Beth. But being genuinely sympathetic, Matherand Beth felt the thrill of their friendship, and were more closelydrawn together by this belief in each other's impending unhappiness.Therefore, though for a time they spoke in a lighter vein, at last theirfeeling came to the surface. Mather had described marriage and itsinconveniences, as seen from the bachelor's standpoint. "I am notafraid!" declared Beth with a toss of the head. Then with an impulse hetook her hands.
"We know that troubles may come, however lucky we may seem, don't we,Beth?" he said. "Look here, if ever you need any help, you'll rememberme, won't you?"
And Beth, instead of retorting that she had her father and Jim to relyon, for the moment forgot those sturdy protectors, and promised that shewould. Beth was at this time always on the edge of emotional gratitude,and there was a glimmer of tears in her affectionate eyes as sheanswered. Then the Colonel came wandering into the room, at the sametime as the voices of Judith and Ellis were heard at the door of theback parlour, and Beth and Mather separated. Jim drew her aside at once.
"Why did you hold hands with him so?" he asked.
"He's one of the oldest friends I have," she replied in surprise. "AndI'm so sorry for him, Jim!" She led him to the window recess, and triedto interest her lover in Mather's mournful fate, but Jim did not enterinto her sorrow to the degree which she anticipated. Then that happenedwhich Mather had desired and Jim dreaded, for Beth spoke of the positionat the mill: he mustn't lose it. "You will work hard, won't you, Jimdear?"
"Do you suppose I shan't?" he demanded testily. Whereby he put Beth inthe wrong, so that she repressed a sigh, and begged his pardon.
Now while Jim, after this triumph, assumed a sulky dignity which wasquite appropriate, the Colonel was still wandering, mentally at least,if the quality of his words with Mather and Pease was a sign."Woolgathering," decided Mather, and relapsed into silence while theColonel explained to Pease that the peculiar actions of the autumnweather were--ha, peculiar, and how were matters with Mr. Pease? Thenthe Colonel did not listen, and started when the answer was innocentlyended with a question. Vaguely, he said he didn't know.
"In my business," went on Pease, apparently satisfied, "the state of thestock market occasions considerable vigilance. One does not seem ableeven to guess what will happen."
"No," acquiesced the Colonel, this time with an attention which thefervour of his tone attested. "That is very true."
Unhappily true, he might have said without exaggeration. Indeed, werelife an opera, and had each person his _leit-motif_, the Colonel wouldhave taken wherever he went an undertone of jarring excitement. Thecymbals would best express the clashing of his hopes and fears; he rosein the night to figure on bits of paper, read the news feverishly eachevening, and roused Judith's criticism of his tendency to carry awaythe stock-market reports. Judith was watching those stocks in whichEllis was interested, but while her concern was merely in the theory ofmarket manipulation, the Colonel's was sadly practical.
And it was on his mind this night that he was near an end; his life'sopera was approaching that grand crash when the cymbals were to bedrowned by the heavier brasses. In his pocket were barely two hundreddollars in cash, he had placed his last thousand at the broker's, andthe broker had sent word that he must have another in the morning. TheColonel looked at his daughters, Beth sweet and Judith proud; he lookedat Pease and Ellis, safe from calamity; he looked at Jim with his youthand Mather with his strength. None of them had troubles; he alone wasmiserable.
And the Colonel, when he could withdraw, went into a corner and broodedover his ill-luck, thus alone, of all the company, failing to remark thespecial brilliancy of Judith's beauty. Ellis saw it and was proud, forhe had caused it; Mather noted it and groaned, for it was not for him;Beth admired; Jim came out of his sulk, swaggered, and made up to her;even Pease was roused to a mild admiration. And Judith herself felt asif she had moved the world a foot from its orbit.
Ellis's news had been important. "Do you remember the advice you gaveme?" he had inquired when the two were alone in the little parlour.
"About the corporation lawyer?" she asked eagerly. "Of course! Tell me,have you done anything with him?"
"Anything? Everything!" he responded with enthusiasm. "That magazinetold all about him, and I looked him up in New York. He came on here--Idon't know how I should have put it through without him."
"Then you have managed it?" she asked.
Indeed he had, he assured her. A man gets--well, misjudged by others,sometimes; there had been a prejudice to overcome before he could affectthis consolidation. The others had been unusually shy; the safeguardsEllis offered had not satisfied them. But the lawyer had straighte
nedmatters out so that all had gone smoothly, and he, Ellis, had savedmoney by his means.
"Good!" cried Judith.
"We paid him twenty-five," Ellis said.
"Twenty-five?"
"Thousand," he explained.
"So much?" cried Judith.
"Oh," answered Ellis, "it was no great affair for him. He often getsmuch more."
Judith was speechless.
"And," said Ellis, "there is some one else we ought to fee, if only itwere possible. But I scarcely see how I could bring her name before thedirectors."
"A woman?" she asked, much excited.
"You," he replied briefly, and his mouth shut with its customaryfirmness. But his eyes noted her exhilaration.
"I?" she demanded. "I? Do you mean that what I said was of importance?"
"You have saved us time. You have put money directly in my pocket. Tenthousand is what I calculate I've saved in concessions, and in the timegained by shortening trouble I reckon I've made as much more." Helaughed. "What percentage shall I give you?"
But she would not jest. "You're welcome, welcome!" she exclaimed. "I'msatisfied, just to feel that I have been a factor. Just to know thatI--oh, Mr. Ellis, you can't know how I feel!"
And Judith was near the danger line at that moment, as she leaned towardhim with sparkling eyes. He saw it, believed his chance had come, andsought to take advantage of it. "I shall consult you always after this,"he said. "I will bring you all my difficulties. A partnership--what doyou say to that?"
She laughed in deprecation, yet she was flattered, and the stimuluscaused her to rear her head and expand her nostrils in the way she had.In his turn he was thrilled, and fire entered his veins.
"What do you say?" he repeated, leaning toward her. "Shall we bepartners?"
"A silent partnership?" she asked. "Or will you put up the sign, Ellisand Blanchard?"
The answer sprang to his lips, but he checked it, wondering if he daredventure. A glance at her face decided him; she was looking, still withthose triumphant eyes, away from him, as if she saw visions of success.He spoke hoarsely.
"Not Ellis and Blanchard, but--Ellis and Ellis!"
She looked at him. "What did you say?" she asked absently, as if herthoughts had been elsewhere. Then, looking where her glance had been, hesaw Mather in the farther room. Mather--and she had not heard!
"I said nothing," he answered, almost choking.
Even his discomfiture escaped her, and presently she took him to theothers. Her excitement was not gone, it made her wonderfully beautiful,but though he might triumph that he had caused it, he knew that she hadslipped away from him. He tried in vain to master his exasperation.
Judith's thoughts were of Mather; she felt that if she could tell himwhat she had done, she would crush him. This was what she had hopedfor: the time when she should prove that she could influence events. Hehad said the world would be too much for her! Perhaps now she couldbreak that masterfulness against which she had always rebelled. And shesmiled at the quiet assurance of his manner, for he had merely started amill and built up a business, while she had all but created a Trust! Itwould humble him, if he but knew.
There is no need of describing the next half-hour's doings of that mixedcompany. Pride and sweetness, loutishness, strength, amiability,ambition, and a feeble man's weak despair, all were together in theBlanchard's parlour, and got on very badly. It is enough to say thatJudith talked with Mather, looking at him from time to time with a gleamof unexpressed thought which he did not understand; that Ellis, tryingto subdue a grin of fury into a suave smile, put his hands in hispockets and clenched them there; and that by this action he exposed,protruding from his vest pocket, the end of a narrow red book at whichthe Colonel was presently staring as if fascinated.
Now the Colonel had once been, as already stated, what the earlyVictorians were fond of calling a man of substance. Hence complacence tothe exclusion of persistence, and a later life dominated by theachievements of youth. He ran away from college to go to the Civil War,and at the coming of peace retired on his laurels. Arduous service inthe State militia brought him his title; he married, travelled, andfrittered away the years until changes in the value of property broughthim face to face with what might seem the unavoidable choice, either toaccommodate himself to a more modest establishment, or to go to work toearn money.
Out of the seeming deadlock the Colonel's financial insight found a way.His capital, used as income, for some years more maintained him in thenecessary way of life. Meanwhile he promised himself to regain his moneyby the simple means of the stock market, but when he came to apply theremedy, some perverseness in its workings made it fail, and to hisastonishment he found himself at the end of his resources. To none ofhis friends might he turn for relief, for your friend who lends alsolectures, and the Colonel could never bear that. Our esteemed warriorwas, however, still fertile in resource, and his genius discovered apossible base of supplies. Hence the fascination exerted by thecheck-book which Ellis always carried about with him.
Some moralists might dub the Colonel weak for dwelling on thiscontemplation. Yet consistency is regarded as a virtue, and the Colonelwas usually consistent in trying to get what he wanted. With hismilitary eye still fixed on the end of the narrow red book, he drew nearto Ellis and began to speak with him. Naturally, that which was in theColonel's mind came first to his lips.
"The stock market has been flighty lately," quoth he.
So were girls, thought Ellis. "Very flighty," he said. "But thatscarcely concerns you, I hope."
"Oh, no, no!" the Colonel hastily assured him. "And yet--Mr. Ellis, mayI have a word with you in my study?"
Accustomed though he was to every turn of fortune, Ellis's heart leaped.Was the fool coming into his hands at last? Then, as he looked once moreat Judith, the unduly sensitive organ made the reverse movement,contracting with a spasm of real pain. She was not even noticing himnow. He followed the worthy Colonel to what was called his study.
Blanchard had no moral struggle to make before he broached his subject.His fibre had degenerated long ago; his sole feeling was regret that hemust expose himself to one who was below his station. Taking care,therefore, not to lower himself in his own eyes by subservience in wordor manner, the Colonel indicated his need of a few thousands, "just totide him over." He wondered if Ellis were willing to advance the money.
Ellis took the request quietly, and sat as if thinking. His cold faceconcealed a disturbance within: elation struggling with an unforeseendoubt. This collapse on the Colonel's part Ellis had watched and hopedfor, yet now that it had come a dormant instinct stirred, questioningwhether to control Judith by such means were not unworthy of himself. Aman was fair game, but a woman--Ellis roused himself impatiently.Entirely unaccustomed to making moral decisions, he could not see thathe stood at the parting of ways, and that from the moment when heleagued himself with the Colonel, deceit entered into his relations withJudith. Intolerant of what seemed a weakness, he crushed down the doubt.What was he dreaming of? The chance was too good to be lost.
Need of appearing businesslike made him ask a few questions. "Whatsecurity can you offer?"
"Nothing whatever," answered the Colonel, grandly simple.
"This house?" asked Ellis.
"Twice mortgaged, and," added the Colonel as if the joke were upon hismortgagees, "out of repair."
Ellis took note of the admission; if the mortgagees knew that the housewere in poor condition, they might sell cheap. "The house at Chebasset?"he inquired.
"Merely rented."
"No stocks or bonds, no other property?" Ellis persisted.
"My furniture," was all the Colonel could suggest.
This time a real repugnance seized Ellis. "Nothing of that kind," heanswered sharply, feeling that to have a lien on the very chair whichJudith sat in was too much. Yet the thought of her, thus again broughtin, grew in spite of this spasm of right feeling, and even while hedespised the Colonel for his unmanliness, his own lower nature sp
oke."There is one other thing, however."
The Colonel saw his meaning. "Mr. Ellis," he cried, with fineindignation, "I mean to repay you every cent!"
But the eye of the warrior fell before that of the parvenu. "Cur!"thought Ellis. "Damn your small spirit!" Nevertheless, he drew out hischeck-book. "You will give your note, of course?"
"Of course!" replied the Colonel with dignity. Two documents changedhands, one in fact, the other by courtesy representing the value of fivethousand dollars. Then Ellis refused the Colonel's invitation to stayand smoke; the transaction tasted badly in his mouth.
"But at least you will come into the parlour again," said the Colonel,when they were once more in the front hall. Ellis stood withoutreplying, and the Colonel waited while he looked in at the others.
Pease had gone, the other four remained, and Mather was the center ofthe group. Wayne was regarding him resentfully, Beth affectionately,Judith unfathomably. She still remembered the news which Ellis hadbrought.
"So you are glad to be a city man again?" asked Beth of Mather.
"Yes," he replied, "but poor Jim!"
"Poor Jim!" echoed Beth tenderly.
"He can stand it," testily rejoined the object of their sympathy.
"I don't know that I shall feel at home here, after being a countrymanso long," said Mather. "Will you tell me all that has happened down-townin my absence. Judith?"
Without answering, she threw him a glance, meaning that she could--ifshe would! In the hall Ellis turned abruptly away, and gathered up hishat and coat.
"No, I won't come in," he said to the Colonel, and went away at once.
His hold on Blanchard, now that it was gained, seemed unaccountablysmall. It would grow, Ellis had no doubt of that, for the Colonel was onthe road down hill; and yet the relationship promised less than itmight. For though by this means Ellis might win possession of Judith, hewanted more than that; he must have her esteem. And Mather had taken hermind from him! Ellis grew hot and cold with that strange feeling whosename he could not discover, while yet its disturbances were strongerfrom day to day.
* * * * *
For the Colonel another act of his opera began with a pleasant jig;cheered, he retired to his study, and began to plan how to doubleEllis's note. Jim took Beth away into the back parlour, where presentlythe light grew dim. As the two went, Judith saw Beth's upward glanceinto her lover's face, and her own thoughts changed and grew soft; sheturned to watch Mather as he sat before what had been, earlier in theevening, a wood fire.
She noticed how natural it seemed for him to gather the embers together,put on wood from the basket, and start a little blaze. The action firstcarried her back to the period before he was her declared lover; next itdrew her thoughts forward to a time when he might be--what Jim was toBeth. And Mather, unconsciously working at the fire, started for Juditha train of musing.
Beth had taught her that to love was enviable, and that it might be arelief to have one's future fixed. Sitting thus with Mather, it seemedto Judith that just so must many a husband and wife be sitting,contented and at home. When compared with the restless dissatisfactionwhich so long had tormented her, the picture was alluring. Judith gaveherself to the mood.
Mather toyed with the tongs for a minute longer, then gave the logs afinal tap into place, and turned to her as if rousing from thought."It's pleasant to be here," he said, "and it's fine to be in the city. Ilike to meet people on the street again. It's as if I had had years ofexile."
She smiled without replying, and he went on. "I think it's done me good.Curious, isn't it, that to be knocked down and kicked out, and then togo away and look at people through a telescope, should be a realbenefit? But I've gained a better perspective than before; I've had timeto think of the theory as well as the practice of affairs. Yes, it'sbeen healthful--but it's good to be back. You understand what I mean,don't you, Judith?"
"I do," she answered. Ellis was forgotten; here was George speaking ashe had not spoken for a year, of his ideas and experiences. She was gladto have them brought to her, glad that he spoke freely and not bitterly,and again the remembrance of Beth's happiness brought a vision of closerrelationship.
He noted the softness of her mood, and without effort let the time drifton, careful only not to disturb this harmony, until at last he felt thatthe talk should be stopped before it ended of itself, and so he took hisleave.
She gave him one of her direct looks as she offered her hand. "You havebeen too busy, George," she said. "Come oftener." With the firmhand-clasp to express the undercurrent of their thoughts, they parted.Alone again by the fire, Judith indulged herself by looking forward. Onecould drift into marriage, easily and agreeably.
Then she heard Jim say good-night, and Beth came and leaned upon herchair. "I want to tell you what Mr. Fenno said to me this afternoon,"said Beth. "About George and the new combination of the cotton millers."
"What had George to do with that?" asked Judith.
"The Wampum Mills held out a long while," answered Beth; "the wholething depended upon them. Mr. Fenno is president; George is a director,but he sent in his resignation soon after he went to Chebasset, anddidn't attend their meetings for weeks."
"Well?" asked Judith.
"Well, the directors couldn't make up their minds, and at last theyrefused to accept George's resignation, and sent for him. He looked intothe matter, and then he----" Beth paused to laugh.
"Go on," begged Judith.
"He scolded them for not jumping at the chance. Mr. Fenno said he hadn'tbeen so lectured since he was a boy; he was much pleased by it. So theWampum Mills went into the combination three days ago, all of the littlemills followed at once, and they expect to do almost double businessnow. Isn't it fine of George?"
"Fine!" agreed Judith, but her gentler mood was destroyed. Ellis alsohad had part in the combination, the greater part. If one were tocompare the achievements and to choose between the men, if one were todo rather than to dream----! She threw off her thoughts of Mather asone throws off a cloak and looks upon it lying shapeless. Life andaction suddenly called her again; she, too, had influenced this matter.She remembered Ellis's acknowledgment of indebtedness, the suggestion ofpartnership, and the compliment pleased her. Mather passed completelyfrom her mind, and Ellis dominated her as before.