XXI. MOST UNLADYLIKE
When I saw I was to have a respite of a month or so, I went over to theNational Industrial Bank with Healey's roll, which my tellers had countedand prepared for deposit. I finished my business with the receiving tellerof the National Industrial, and dropped in on my friend Lewis, the firstvice-president. I did not need to pretend coolness and confidence; mynerves were still in that curious state of tranquil exhilaration, and Ifelt master of myself and of the situation. Just as I was leaving, in cameTom Langdon with Sam Ellersly.
Tom's face was a laughable exhibit of embarrassment. Sam--really, I feltsorry for him. There was no reason on earth why he shouldn't be with TomLangdon; yet he acted as if I had caught him "with the goods on him." Hestammered and stuttered, clasped my hand eagerly, dropped it as if it hadstung him; he jerked out a string of hysterical nonsense, ending witha laugh so crazy that the sound of it disconcerted him. Drink was theexplanation that drifted through my mind; but in fact I thought littleabout it, so full was I of other matters.
"When is your brother returning?" said I to Tom.
"On the next steamer, I believe," he replied. "He went only for the restand the bath of sea air." With an effort he collected himself, drew measide and said: "I owe you an apology, Mr. Blacklock. I went to the steamerwith Mowbray to see him off, and he asked me to tell you about our newdividend rate--though it was not to be made public for some time. Anyhow,he told me to go straight to you--and I--frankly, I forgot it." Then, withthe winning, candid Langdon smile, he added, ingenuously: "The best excusein the world--yet the one nobody ever accepts."
"No apology necessary," said I with the utmost good nature. "I've nopersonal interest in Textile. My house deals on commission only, youknow--never on margins for myself. I'm a banker and broker, not a gambler.Some of our customers were alarmed by the news of the big increase, andinsisted on bringing suit to stop it. But I'm going to urge them now to letthe matter drop."
Tom tried to look natural, and as he is an apt pupil of his brother's, hesucceeded fairly well. His glance, however, wouldn't fix steadily on mygaze, but circled round and round it like a bat at an electric light. "Totell you the truth," said he, "I'm extremely nervous as to what my brotherwill say--and do--to me, when I tell him. I hope no harm came to youthrough my forgetfulness."
"None in the world," I assured him. Then I turned on Sam. "What are youdoing down town to-day?" said I. "Are you on your way to see me?"
He flushed with angry shame, reading an insinuation into my carelessremark, when I had not the remotest intention of reminding him that hiscustomary object in coming down town was to play the parasite and thesponge at my expense. I ought to have guessed at once that there wassome good reason for his recovery of his refined, high-bred, gentlemanlysuper-sensibilities; but I was not in the mood to analyze trifles, thoughmy nerves were taking careful record of them.
"Oh, I was just calling on Tom," he replied rather haughtily.
Then Melville himself came in, brushing back his white tufted burnsides andlicking his lips and blinking his eyes--looking for all the world like acat at its toilet.
"Oh! ah! Blacklock!" he exclaimed, with purring cordiality--and I knew hehad heard of the big deposit I was making. "Come into my office on your wayout--nothing especial--only because it's always a pleasure to talk withyou."
I saw that his effusive friendliness confirmed Tom Langdon's fear that Ihad escaped from his brother's toils. He stared sullenly at the carpetuntil he caught me looking at him with twinkling eyes. He made a valianteffort to return my smile and succeeded in twisting his face into a knotthat seemed to hurt him as much as it amused me.
"Well, good-by, Tom," said I. "Give my regards to your brother when helands, and tell him his going away was a mistake. A man can't afford totrust his important business to understrappers." This with a face free fromany suggestion of intending a shot at him. Then to Sam: "See you to-night,old man," and I went away, leaving Lewis looking from one to the other asif he felt that there was dynamite about, but couldn't locate it. I stoppedwith Melville to talk Coal for a few minutes--at my ease, and the last manon earth to be suspected of hanging by the crook of one finger from theedge of the precipice.
I rang the Ellerslys' bell at half-past nine that evening. The butler facedme with eyes not down, as they should have been, but on mine, and fullof the servile insolence to which he had been prompted by what he hadoverheard in the family.
"Not at home, sir," he said, though I had not spoken.
I was preoccupied and not expecting that statement; neither had I skill,nor desire to acquire skill, in reading family barometers in the faces ofservants. So, I was for brushing past him and entering where I felt I hadas much right as in my own places. He barred the way.
"Beg pardon, sir. Mrs. Ellersly instructed me to say no one was at home."
I halted, but only like an oncoming bear at the prick of an arrow.
"What the hell does this mean?" I exclaimed, waving him aside. At thatinstant Anita appeared from the little reception-room a few feet away.
"Oh--come in!" she said cordially. "I was expecting you. Burroughs, pleasetake Mr. Blacklock's hat."
I followed her into the reception-room, thinking the butler had made somesort of mistake.
"How did you come out?" she asked eagerly, facing me. "You look yournatural self--not tired or worried--so it must have been not so bad as youfeared."
"If our friend Langdon hadn't slipped away, I might not look and feel socomfortable," said I. "His brother blundered, and there was no one tocheckmate my moves." She seemed nearer to me, more in sympathy with me thanever before.
"I can't tell you how glad I am!"
Her eyes were wide and bright, as from some great excitement, and her colorwas high. Once my attention was on it, I knew instantly that only someextraordinary upheaval in that household could have produced the fever thatwas blazing in her. Never had I seen her in any such mood as this.
"What is it?" I asked. "What has happened?"
"If anything disagreeable should be said or done this evening here," shesaid, "I want you to promise me that you'll restrain yourself, and not sayor do any of those things that make me--that jar on me. You understand?"
"I am always myself," replied I. "I can't be anybody else."
"But you are--several different kinds of self," she insisted. "Andplease--this evening don't be _that_ kind. It's coming into your eyesand chin now."
I had lifted my head and looked round, probably much like the leader of ahorned herd at the scent of danger.
"Is this better?" said I, trying to look the thoughts I had no difficultyin getting to the fore whenever my eyes were on her.
Her smile rewarded me. But it disappeared, gave place to a look of nervousalarm, of terror even, at the rustling, or, rather, bustling, of skirts inthe hall--there was war in the very sound, and I felt it. Mrs. Ellerslyappeared, bearing her husband as a dejected trailer invisibly but firmlycoupled. She acknowledged my salutation with a stiff-necked nod, ignored myextended hand. I saw that she wished to impress upon me that she was a verygrand lady indeed; but, while my ideas of what constitutes a lady were atthat time somewhat befogged by my snobbishness, she failed dismally. Shelooked just what she was--a mean, bad-tempered woman, in a towering rage.
"You have forced me, Mr. Blacklock," said she, and then I knew for justwhat purpose that voice of hers was best adapted--"to say to you what Ishould have preferred to write. Mr. Ellersly has had brought to his earsmatters in connection with your private life that make it imperative thatyou discontinue your calls here."
"My private life, ma'am?" I repeated. "I was not aware that I had a privatelife."
"Anita, leave us alone with Mr. Blacklock," commanded her mother.
The girl hesitated, bent her head, and with a cowed look went slowly towardthe door. There she paused, and, with what seemed a great effort, liftedher head and gazed at me. How I ever came rightly to interpret her lookI don't know, but I said: "Miss Ellersly, I'
ve the right to insist thatyou stay." I saw she was going to obey me, and before Mrs. Ellersly couldrepeat her order I said: "Now, madam, if any one accuses me of having doneanything that would cause you to exclude a man from your house, I am readyfor the liar and his lie."
As I spoke I was searching the weak, bad old face of her husband for anexplanation. Their pretense of outraged morality I rejected at once--it wasabsurd. Neither up town nor down, nor anywhere else, had I done anythingthat any one could regard as a breach of the code of a man of the world.Then, reasoned I, they must have found some one else to help them out oftheir financial troubles--some one who, perhaps, has made this insult to methe price, or part of the price, of his generosity. Who? Who hates me? Ininstant answer, up before my mind flashed a picture of Tom Langdon and SamEllersly arm in arm entering Lewis' office. Tom Langdon wishes to marryher; and her parents wish it, too; he is the man she was confessing to meabout--these were my swift conclusions.
"We do not care to discuss the matter, sir," Mrs. Ellersly was replying,her tone indicating that it was not fit to discuss. And this was the womanI had hardly been able to treat civilly, so nauseating were her fawningsand flatterings!
"So!" I said, ignoring her and opening my batteries full upon the old man."You are taking orders from Mowbray Langdon now. Why?"
As I spoke, I was conscious that there had been some change in Anita. Ilooked at her. With startled eyes and lips apart, she was advancing towardme.
"Anita, leave the room!" cried Mrs. Ellersly harshly, panic under thecommand in her tones.
I felt rather than saw my advantage, and pressed it.
"You see what they are doing, Miss Ellersly," said I.
She passed her hands over her eyes, let her face appear again. In it therewas an energy of repulsion that ought to have seemed exaggerated to methen, knowing really nothing of the true situation. "I understand now!"said she. "Oh--it is--loathsome!" And her eyes blazed upon her mother.
"Loathsome," I echoed, dashing at my opportunity. "If you are not merely achattel and a decoy, if there is any womanhood, any self-respect in you,you will keep faith with me."
"Anita!" cried Mrs. Ellersly. "Go to your room!"
I had, once or twice before, heard a tone as repulsive--a femaledive-keeper hectoring her wretched white slaves. I looked at Anita. Iexpected to see her erect, defiant. Instead, she was again wearing thatcowed look.
"Don't judge me too harshly," she said pleadingly to me. "I know what isright and decent--God planted that too deep in me for them to be able touproot it. But--oh, they have broken my will! They have broken my will!They have made me a coward, a thing!" And she hid her face in her hands andsobbed.
Mrs. Ellersly was about to speak. I could not offer better proof of my ownstrength of will than the fact that I, with a look and a gesture, put herdown. Then I said to the girl:
"You must choose now! Woman or thing--which shall it be? If it is woman,then you have me behind you and in front of you and around you. If it isthing--God have mercy on you! Your self-respect, your pride are gone--forever. You will be like the carpet under his feet to the man whose creatureyou become."
She came and stood by me, with her back to them.
"If you will take me with you now," she said, "I will go. If I delay, I amlost. I shall not have the courage. And I am sick, sick to death of thislife here, of this hideous wait for the highest bidder."
Her voice gained strength and her manner courage as she spoke; at the endshe was meeting her mother's gaze without flinching. My eyes had followedhers, and my look was taking in both her mother and her father. I had longsince measured them, yet I could scarcely credit the confirmation of myjudgment. Had life been smooth and comfortable for that old couple, as itwas for most of their acquaintances and friends, they would have lived anddied regarding themselves, and regarded, as well-bred, kindly people, ofthe finest instincts and tastes. But calamity was putting to the test thesystem on which they had molded their apparently elegant, graceful lives.The storm had ripped off the attractive covering; the framework, thereality of that system, was revealed, naked and frightful.
"Anita, go to your room!" almost screamed the old woman, her fury tearingaway the last shreds of her cloak of manners.
"Your daughter is of age, madam," said I. "She will go where she pleases.And I warn you that you are deceived by the Langdons. I am not powerless,and"--here I let her have a full look into my red-hot furnaces of wrath--"Istop at nothing in pursuing those who oppose me--at nothing!"
Anita, staring at her mother's awful face, was shrinking and tremblingas if before the wicked, pale-yellow eyes and quivering, outstretchedtentacles of a devil-fish. Clinging to my arm, she let me guide her to thedoor. Her mother recovered speech. "Anita!" she cried. "What are you doing?Are you mad?"
"I think I must be out of my mind," said Anita. "But, if you try to keep mehere, I shall tell him all--_all_."
Her voice suggested that she was about to go into hysterics. I gently urgedher forward. There was some sort of woman's wrap in the hall. I put itround her. Before she--or I--realized it, she was in my waiting electric.
"Up town," I said to my man.
She tried to get out.
"Oh, what have I done! What am I doing!" she cried, her courage oozingaway. "Let me out--please!"
"You are going with me," said I, entering and closing the door. I saw thedoor of the Ellersly mansion opening, saw old Ellersly, bareheaded anddistracted, scuttling down the steps.
"Go ahead--fast!" I called to my man.
And the electric was rushing up the avenue, with the bell ringing forcrossings incessantly. She huddled away from me into the corner of theseat, sobbing hysterically. I knew that to touch her would be fatal--orto speak. So I waited.