CHAPTER XXXIII
CONTAINS ANOTHER PROPOSAL OF MARRIAGE, AND SETTLES AN OLD SCORE
The whirling in Ellis's head was ceasing, the blind restlessness wasslowly leaving him. Yet still he walked up and down in his library,unmindful of the call of hunger. For as his anger left him there grew inits place the unassuagable yearning which he was coming to know toowell, and which he was ashamed that he could not master. For there hadnever been a desire which he could not crush, or a passion which hecould not uproot, if they stood in the way of his purposes. In hiscourtship of Judith he had taken care to suppress the feelings which,apart from his appreciation of her material value, occasionallythreatened to interfere with his entirely deliberate progress in herregard and her father's favour. But now, when all was over, the littlepains and longings which he had crushed down were constantly rising, andhe who had been so self-sufficing was now lonely, he who had neverpaused to regret was often bowed with despair. And Judith, Judith was inhis mind constantly; it was she who broke his sleep, spoiled his work,and had brought about his defeat. His rage at the disaster was not sodeep as the disturbance which the sight of her had caused in him. Buteven that he would, he must, repress--or where would she, that palegirl, bring him?
Three times in the past month had this confusion of the faculties comeupon him. Wherever lay the cause, the result was too costly to bepermitted to continue. He recognised the fits now; the next one thatcame he would meet at its beginning--and this one should end at once.What was he thinking of? His men must have the news already; they hadcome to the house and he had sent them away, playing the fool here byhimself. Well, he would go out and find them now, hearten them, andprepare at once for the long fight with which he had threatened hisenemies. Ah--and he ground his teeth with anticipation--he meant allthat he had said.
His faculties collected at last, he turned to the door, and met thecautious face of his butler.
"A lady, sir," said the man, prepared to be damned from the room. He wasrelieved when his master said: "Show her in."
But the lady, having no intention of being turned away, was closebehind. "Very wise of you," she said, entering even as he spoke."Because I meant to come in anyway, Stephen."
"Oh, it's you, Lydia?" asked Ellis, darting a look before which thebutler retired. "What brings you?"
Mrs. Harmon unwound the long scarf from her neck, and stood before himsmiling. "An errand of mercy, to comfort the broken-hearted. Come, don'tscowl." She unbuckled her cloak, swung it from her shoulders, and tossedit on a chair. "There, how do you like me?"
In spite of his mood he caught his breath. For she was dressed in blackand adorned with pearls; the dress was cut so low that it more thansuggested the charms which it concealed. And those which it revealedwere perfect: the full and rosy throat, the shoulders, and the arms. Thepearls set off the blackness of the dress, and took to themselves thewarmth of her skin. For a moment Ellis looked at her with pleasure, thenhe recovered himself.
"Full mourning, I see," he grunted.
"Don't be disagreeable," she returned. "It's my best and newest. Come,say I never looked so well before."
"You never did," he agreed. Always Lydia had dressed, he reflected, asmuch as she dared; now that she was free she evidently intended to gothe limit. "It certainly becomes you," he added.
"I may sit down?" she asked. "Thanks. Now, Stephen, I want to talkbusiness."
"Talk," he said, sitting before her. "It's about----"
"This afternoon's news. Oh, yes," as he turned his eyes away, "it's gotto me already. Some of your men, not getting in here, came to see me.How did it happen, Stephen?"
"Price," he answered between his teeth. "By God, I----" The curse andthe threat died away, and he sat staring at the carpet.
"Oh," she cried, "and I warned you of him!"
"Well," he growled, "it's over. I'm not looking back."
She leaned toward him earnestly. "Are you looking ahead? You're notgiving up, are you?"
"No!" he cried scornfully.
"Good!" she responded, relieved, but then she asked: "What has got intoyou? Three times you've shut yourself up so."
"Never again," he assured her. "It's all over, Lydia. I shall neverspend any more time--regretting."
"I thought so," she said. "It's Judith?"
"Yes," he acknowledged savagely. "I've taken a little time to be a fool.Now I'm over it."
"If you are," she replied, "I'll tell you something."
"What next?" he asked, his face darkening.
"I went by the Peases' at half-past five," she began slowly, watchinghim. "I was on the other side of the street. You know it's almost darkat that hour?"
"Oh, tell me!" he commanded.
"I saw two people at the door," she went on more rapidly. "They wereGeorge Mather and Judith. They opened the door, the hall was lightedinside, and I saw their figures against the light. As they went in--itwasn't much, but he put his arm around her."
Ellis started abruptly from his chair, went to his desk, and stoodlooking down at it; his back was to her. "I thought you said you wereover it," she remarked.
As abruptly he returned and took his seat. "I expected that."
"Well," she asked, "and now what?"
"Work," he replied. "I can always have plenty of that."
"Work?" she repeated. "Like the man in the novel who works to forget?"She pointed her finger at him, teasingly, and laughed. "Stephen, I dobelieve you were in love with her!"
He scowled his contempt at the weak phrase. In love with her! But thenits central word struck home with the force of a new idea, andinvoluntarily he rose again from his seat. Her laughter stopped; hergayety changed to alarm, for he was looking at her, but he saw nothing.
"What is it?" she asked uneasily.
Love? Love! He understood. "I loved her!" he said, and then addedquietly, "I love her!"
She bridled and looked down. "I too have been through that, Stephen."
But he stood staring before him. He loved!--and all was clear to him.Thence came those pains, those harsh distresses, those unappeasablelongings; thence the distraction which caused his failure. Judith hadset this poison in his blood. He laughed mirthlessly. How the girl hadrevenged herself!
But he loved! Relief came to him as he realised that no ordinaryweakness, but the higher lot of man (so he had heard it called) wasoverpowering him. He had never been fond of any one in his life, and yethe loved! Love! That was a passion he had never expected to meet; therewas no shame in falling before it--and he felt in his pain even a fiercedelight. He loved the girl!
And now he knew he would never be the same man again--never could workso free of soul, never forget those high ideals of hers, nor be asmindless of the consequences of his acts. He smiled with scorn ofhimself as he saw how the tables had been turned on him. Meaning to winthe girl, to buy her, he had instead roused a conscience, and learnedthat there was purity in the world. This was what they meant, then,those hitherto inexplicable fits of his: that a new nature was trying toassert itself, that a terrible discontent was aroused, that his wholelife had changed, and that within an unsuspected recess of his naturethere was this open wound, unhealing, draining his strength.
Where then was his boast to his enemies, of what worth his threats?Could he ever fight again as before, ever manage and plan? Again helaughed scornfully.
"You needn't laugh," complained Mrs. Harmon. "I do understand it all."
"I wasn't laughing at you," he answered. "--Well, forget all this,Lydia. What is it I can do for you?"
"Will you forget all this?" she asked with meaning. "Then look aheadwith me for a while, Stephen. You won't be president."
"And I've lost my mayor," he added.
"Will it mean so much?" she asked, disappointed.
"It's Mather's year," he said decidedly. "Everything's going his way; ithappens so every once in a while in New York. Then Tammany lays low; soshall I. But in the end they come in again; so with me."
"Then, planning for
the future," she began, but hesitated, stopped, andstarted differently. "I've suffered a good deal, in this past year. Wehaven't got anything we wished, either you or I."
He wondered what brought her. "That is true," he said, not intending tocommit himself.
"I've suffered from Judith as well as you," complained Mrs. Harmon. "Sheinsulted me the other day; she isn't what I thought her, Stephen."
"Nor what I thought," he said, waiting.
"And the others," she went on, "turn me down, too. You would supposethat my position, and my loss--but they are colder to me than ever." Shelooked down.
"Look here," he said, "it isn't like you to be so mild, Lydia. Aren'tyou just a little mad, underneath?"
"Oh, I hate them all!" she burst out. She looked at him with flashingeyes, then asked directly, "Do you, Stephen?"
"Well, suppose I do; what then?" he asked, wishing her to show her hand.
"I will leave them," said Mrs. Harmon with vigour. "So will you. And wewill leave them together."
"It won't be a formal leavetaking," he said, not understanding. "We justleave them, don't we?"
"Oh," she replied, "I can't bear just to drop out. I want them tounderstand that I've no more use for them." She looked to see if hecomprehended, but he remained silent and his face showed nothing. "I'velost my husband," she said.
"Yes," he said, encouraging. "Go on."
She finished with an effort. "And you wanted--a wife?"
"Good God!" he said slowly.
"I could be of use to you," she explained quickly. "More than Judith.See how your men come to me for advice?"
"Your husband is but two months in his grave," he cried. "And you wearWayne's jewels at your throat!"
"But I don't mean to do it at once," she said, aggrieved. "For a fewmonths it could be--understood."
"I see," he said, mastering his disgust. "Anything more, Lydia?"
"And I should like to leave something to remember us by," she went on,taking confidence. "So that they shall feel that we aren't just beaten."
"How will you do it?"
"They are like a big family," she said. "Hurt one, and the others areagainst you. I think they combined against you out of revengefor--Judith, as much as to help Mather."
"Perhaps," he commented.
"They think a great deal of those two," she proceeded. "If we could hurtthem we could anger all the others."
"How do you propose to do it?" he inquired.
"You have that note of hers," she said. "You said she could pay at herleisure, but----" she eyed him keenly. "Stephen, I never believed that."
"You are quite right," he acknowledged. "I could come down on herto-morrow for the money." He looked at Mrs. Harmon impassively, but shewas satisfied.
"Then do!" she urged, rising.
"I see," he said. "If her friends have to make up the money for her itputs her in the position of a beggar, makes her ridiculous, doesn't it?"
"More than that," she said eagerly. "If people know she has signed anote to you, they will think, don't you see, and say things."
His brows contracted, and from under them his eyes began to glow,characteristically. "What will they say?" he asked.
"Oh, there will be a great to-do, a quiet scandal, and under cover of ityou--we retire with credit."
"You have thought it all out very well," he said.
"Haven't I?" she asked complacently.
"And I suppose," he said, "that I might as well begin to-morrow. Infact, I could send some kind of a summons to Miss Blanchard to-night."
"Any day, only soon," she agreed. "Before the stockholders' meeting willbe best."
"Now is the time," he said. He went to his desk, stooped over it, andwrote rapidly. Then he brought her the paper. "Will that do?" He hadmerely written: "With the best wishes of Stephen F. Ellis."
"Why," she began doubtfully. "Oh, I see; you mean to be sarcastic. Andwhat will you inclose with this?"
He took the note from his pocket-book and showed it to her. "For fifteenthousand dollars, you see. And it is in legal form."
"Yes," she said with satisfaction. "You'll just remind her that you haveit, and demand immediate payment?"
"I will do this," he replied. He tore the note across, laid the piecestogether, and tore them again, and once again. Then he folded them withthe paper on which he had written.
"Stephen!" she cried.
He took an envelope from the desk and put the papers in. "And I send itall to her. Now perhaps you understand?"
His tone was suddenly fierce, and as he approached her she backed away."Why----" she said, astonished.
"That was a good idea of yours," he sneered, standing close to her."Between us, we could smirch her name. You to do the talking, ofcourse." He snatched her wrist and pushed his face close to hers. "Haveyou told any one I held that note?"
"No!" she answered, frightened.
"The truth!" he insisted.
"No one; no one!" she replied.
He cast her hand away, and stepped back. "If you tell any one, with thatdamned tongue of yours, Lydia, I'll have your blood!"
"I will never tell!" she protested, thoroughly cowed.
He turned away from her. "Let them tell if they wish," he said over hisshoulder. "They won't, to save the Colonel's reputation; but if theydo--you keep quiet. Fool I was to tell you!" He went to the desk again,and took up his pen to address the envelope. "Good-night, Lydia," hesaid absently.
"But, Stephen!" she began to plead.
"Don't provoke me," he interrupted, pausing with his pen poised. "Don'tprovoke me, Lydia." As she did not move, he turned on her. "Confound it,go!"
She dared not say a word to anger him further; she feared even to lookher disgust, lest she should cut herself off from him forever. Takingher cloak and scarf, she went to the door; she paused there for aninstant, only to see with fury that he had turned again to the desk andwas writing. White with rage at her failure, she went away.
But Ellis was at peace with himself, and looked the future in the face.He loved, he would suffer, he did not even wish to forget. Deliberatelyhe left the house and walked to the Pease homestead. He rang the bell,gave to the servant his missive for Judith, and for a full minute afterthe door closed he stood on the sidewalk, looking at the lighted windowsof the house. But then, shivering, he drew his coat closely around him,and hurried away from that abode of happiness.
* * * * *
Transcriber's note:
Original spelling has been retained.
Original hyphenation has been retained, even where inconsistent; e.g.both "golf-club" and "golf club" occur.
The following printer's errors have been corrected:
Page 35, "kuckle" changed to "knuckle". (Yet she hated to knuckle tothem;)
Page 36, "roue" changed to "roue" (Girls more or less innocent dancedwith men more or less roue;)
Page 48, missing period inserted ("But," he explained, "it must havepermanently bettered and improved you.")
Page 92, quotation marks matched ("Yes, sir.' changed to "Yes, sir.")
Page 99, missing period inserted (No, I will try to write withoutpractising.)
Page 100, "word" changed to "work" (but when his day's work was over)
Page 172, it's corrected to its (All its beauty conceals a threat) and(its only purpose)
Page 181, extra quotation mark removed from middle of quote. ("Thislunch was better than I expected. We must meet here again, some day.")
Page 252, quotation marks matched ("I thought you loved me?' changed to"I thought you loved me?")
Page 258, quotation marks matched ('We have no property ... to him?"changed to "We have no property ... to him?")
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