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  XVIII

  Trennahan in that first month thought little of Magdalena. He hardlyknew whether he were happy or not; he certainly was intoxicated. Helenawas both impassioned and shy, a companion to whom words were hardly anecessary medium for thought, and magnificently uncertain of mood.Moreover, whether riding a donkey up the steep dusty grades of theYosemite, or half veiled in a mist of steam, reeking of Hell, orstanding with wondering eyes and parted lips among the colossal trees ofCalaveras, she was always beautiful. And Trennahan worshipped her beautywith the strength of a passion which had sprung from a long andrecuperative sleep. That he was twice her age mattered nothing to himnow. Nothing mattered but that she was to be wholly his.

  The morning after his return to Menlo he awoke with a confused sensethat he should be late for his morning ride with Magdalena. He laughedas his senses rattled into place, but he sighed just after; and both thelaugh and the sigh were Magdalena's, grim as the former may have been.That had been a time of peace and perfect content, and he could neverforget it, not though he lived long years of unimaginable bliss withHelena--which he probably would not. A part of his life, limited andstunted a part as it was, belonged irrevocably to Magdalena. Heconcluded, after some hard thinking, that it was his best part. He hadgiven her something of his soul, and he had no wish to take it back. Hehad given her the reviving aspirations of an originally noble nature;the sun of her had shone upon the barren soil, and the harvest was hers.He was an unimaginative man, but he was inclined to believe that ifthere was a future existence, Magdalena would belong to him then and forever, that something even less definable than the soul of each belongedto the other. For there was nothing to be ashamed of in his love forHelena. She appealed as powerfully to his mind and heart as to hispassion. But there was something beyond all, and he had no name forit,--unless it were that principle of absolute good as distinguishedfrom its grades and variations; and it belonged to the girl whom hecertainly no longer wanted in this life.

  He wished that he had suggested to Helena to spend the summer in SanRafael or Monterey. Menlo Park belonged to Magdalena; he found himselfhating the thought of having a series of very perfect memoriesdisturbed, even by the most passionately loved of women. And soMagdalena had her first revenge.

  He went reluctantly enough to Fair Oaks in the afternoon. The veryleaves whispered as they drove through the woods. He had protested, butHelena must see 'Lena at once; she could never be entirely happy untilshe had looked into 'Lena's eyes and convinced herself that they werequite unchanged. And Trennahan must go, too, and have it over.Trennahan, who only crossed her whims for the pleasure of making up withher later, admitted that she was right, and went.

  Mrs. Yorba was on the verandah receiving Mrs. Geary and Mrs. Brannan.Magdalena was upstairs in her room. The monotony of those afternoonreceptions had taken its place among the distasteful things of life, andshe was determined not to go down until she was sent for. Each time sheheard wheels she went to the window and looked out. The third time shesaw Trennahan and Helena. The very bones of her skeleton seemed to fallupon each other; she sank to the ground with less vigour than ashattered soldier. But in a moment she gave a hard gasp and pressed herhands to her face. Then she heard Helena's voice,--that sweet huskyvoice which was not the least potent of her charms.

  "'Lena! 'Lena! Well, I'll go look for her."

  Magdalena scrambled to her feet and fled down the hall to her mother'sdressing-room. There, in a cupboard, was always a decanter of sherry;for Mrs. Yorba, after her neuralgic attacks, was often faint. Magdalenafilled a glass, drank it, and blessed the swift fire which shook herwill free and made a disciplined regiment of her nerves. She was sodelighted at her sudden mastery over herself that she ran out into thehall, caught Helena in her arms, and kissed her demonstratively. Helenaburst into tears. "You are the best girl on earth," she sobbed. "And Ifeel so wicked; but I am so happy."

  Magdalena dried her tears, a part she had filled many times. "You arethe dearest and most honest girl in the world," she said.

  "Oh, I try to be honest, but I get so mixed up. I wish I could have anew set of commandments handed down all for myself, and that I couldhave made the rough draft of them. Then I'd be quite happy. But comedown and see Jack,--I couldn't stand John. He's awfully brown and lookssplendid."

  Trennahan gave Magdalena's hand a friendly shake and asked her what theplans for the summer were.

  "Papa has a frightfully economical fit and says we are not to entertainany more. He doesn't even allow us enough water to wash the windows; andif this supply of gasoline gives out before the end of the summer, we'vegot to burn oil."

  "Magdalena!" gasped Mrs. Yorba. She wondered if her contribution to theYorbas had suddenly gone mad. But the sherry was in Magdalena's head.She was quite conscious of it, but recklessly decided to let it have itsway so long as it helped her to convey to Trennahan the information thathe was no more to her than the browning tuberoses on the lawn.

  "It's only what everybody knows," she replied. "I am sure everybody inMenlo has discussed him threadbare. Mr. Trennahan, you happened upon himin the oasis of his life; you never could stand it to dine here now. Wecan scarcely see to eat, and he never opens his mouth except to swear atthe servants."

  Mrs. Yorba was speeding her guests. When she returned, she gave herdaughter an annihilating glance and went into the house. Trennahanstared at Magdalena. He saw her object, but could not guess themotive-power behind. A sudden, sickening fear assailed him: WasMagdalena deteriorating? And he the cause? But Magdalena was rattlingon. The sherry seemed to have a marvellous power over one's wits andtongue. Why had she not known of it in the days when she had longed toshine? But her mother did not approve of girls drinking wine, and shehad rarely tasted it, although until recently it had always been on thetable.

  "You both look so well," she said. "You don't look so tired as mostengaged people do. I suppose you don't sit up every night until twelvetalking about yourselves, as they generally do, I am told. That must beso fatiguing. Mr. Trennahan, you are actually stouter. You don't look asif you had been climbing perpendicular mountains. Is it true that a manstepped over the Bridal Veil backward? Do tell me all about it!"

  Helena was staring at Magdalena with her mouth half open. She was theleast obtuse of mortals, but although she knew that pride was at theroot of Magdalena's extraordinary behaviour, she concluded that love hadfled, and marvelled, for she had believed Magdalena to be the deepestand most tenacious of women. But she was very glad.

  "Well!" she exclaimed. "Something has improved you! You will be fairlybrilliant by next winter. And do for goodness' sake, 'Lena, give DonRoberto to understand that he's not to have his own way. He's like allbullies: he'd soon give in if you bullied him. I adore papa, and woulddo anything on earth for him; but if he had been born a different sort,and gave me trouble, I'd find more than one way of bringing him toterms. Just flash your eyes at Don Roberto as you're flashing them atus, and you'll see the difference it will make."

  Has she ceased to love me? thought Trennahan. Thank God!--at least Iought to.

  When they had gone, the sherry had run its course, and Magdalena feltvery much ashamed of herself. I overdid it, she thought in terror, asshe recalled her scintillating remarks and elaborate manner. He musthave suspected! I'll drink no more, and next time I'll be just what Iwould have been if I had never laid eyes on him--if I die in theattempt. And how I talked! What things I said! Great Heaven, I made acomplete fool of myself!

  And the knowledge that for once in her life she had thrown her dignityand pride to the winds put her other pain to flight, and she had atleast one night unracked by the record within her.