XXI
THE ROSE
On a Wednesday morning, clear and cold: not a cloud floated across thesky, nor did there rise above the horizon one of those clouds(portentous forerunners of evil!) to which novelists refer as being "nolarger than a man's hand". Heaven knew right well that the blight ofevil was approaching fast enough, but there was no visible indicationon her face that glorious November morning. Doubtless you are familiarwith history and have read all about what great personages did justbefore calamity swooped down on them. The Trojans laughed at the woodenhorse; I don't know how many Roman banqueters never reached the desertbecause the enemy had not paid any singular regard to courtesies inmaking the attack; men and women danced on the eve of Waterloo--"Onwith the dance, let joy be unconfined"; _my_ heroine simply wentshopping. It doesn't sound at all romantic; very prosaic, in fact.
She declared her intention of making a tour of the shops and ofdropping into Mrs. Chadwick's on the way home. She ordered James tobring around the pair and the coupe. James was an example of docileobedience. As she came down the steps, she was a thing of beauty and ajoy for ever. She wore one of those jackets to which severalgray-squirrel families had contributed their hides, a hat whoseexistence was due to the negligence of a certain rare bird, and manysilk-worms had spun the fabric of her gown. Had any one called herattention to all this, there isn't any doubt that she would have beenshocked. Only here and there are women who see what a true Molochfashion is; this tender-souled girl saw only a handsome habit whichpleased the eye. Health bloomed in her cheeks, health shone from hereyes, her step had all the elasticity of youth.
"Good morning, James," she said pleasantly.
James touched his hat. What was it, he wondered. Somehow her eyeslooked unfamiliar to him. Had I been there I could have read the secreteasily enough. Sometimes the pure pools of the forests are stirred andbecome impenetrable; but by and by the commotion subsides, and thewater clears. So it is with the human soul. There had been doubthitherto in this girl's eyes; now, the doubt was gone.
To him, soberly watchful, her smile meant much; it was the patent ofher innocence of any wrong thought. All night he had tossed on his cot,thinking, thinking! What should he do? What_ever_ should he do? Thatsome wrong was on the way he hadn't the least doubt. Should he confrontthe colonel and demand an explanation, a demand he knew he had aperfect right to make? If this should be evil, and the shame of it fallon this lovely being?... No, no! He must stand aside, he must turn adeaf ear to duty, the voice of love spoke too loud. His own assuranceof her innocence made him desire to fall at her feet and worship. Afterall, it _was_ none of his affair. Had he not played at this comedy,this thing would have gone on, and he would have been in ignorance ofits very existence. So, why should he meddle? Yet that monotonous querykept beating on his brain: What _was_ this thing?
He saw that he must wait. Yesterday he had feared nothing save his ownexposure. Comedy had frolicked in her grinning mask. And here wasTragedy stalking in upon the scene.
The girl named a dozen shops which she desired to honor with her customand presence, and stepped into the coupe. William closed the door, andJames touched up the pair and drove off toward the city. He wasperfectly indifferent to any possible exposure. In truth, he forgoteverything, absolutely and positively everything, but the girl and thefortification plans she had been drawing.
Scarce a half a dozen bundles were the result of the tour among theshops.
"Mrs. Chadwick's, James."
The call lasted half an hour.
As a story-teller I am supposed to be everywhere, to follow thefootsteps of each and all of my characters, and with a fidelity and aperspicacity nothing short of the marvelous. So I take the liberty ofimagining the pith of the conversation between the woman and the girl.
_The Woman:_ How long, dear, have we known each other?
_The Girl:_ Since I left school, I believe. Where _did_ you get thatstunning morning gown?
_The Woman_ (smiling in spite of the serious purpose she has in view):Never mind the gown, my child; I have something of greater importanceto talk about.
_The Girl: Is_ there anything more important to talk about among women?
_The Woman:_ Yes. There is age.
_The Girl:_ But, mercy, we do not talk about that!
_The Woman:_ I am going to establish a precedent, then. I am forty, orat least, I am on the verge of it.
_The Girl_ (warningly): Take care! If we should ever become enemies! IfI should ever become treacherous!
_The Woman:_ The world very well knows that I am older than I look.That is why it takes such interest in my age.
_The Girl:_ The question is, how _do_ you preserve it?
_The Woman:_ Well, then, I am forty, while you stand on the thresholdof the adorable golden twenties. (Walks over to picture taken eighteenyears before and contemplates it.) Ah, to be twenty again; to startanew, possessing my present learning and wisdom, and knowledge of theworld; to avoid the pits into which I so carelessly stumbled! But no!
_The Girl_: Mercy! what have you to wish for? Are not princes andambassadors your friends; have you not health and wealth and beauty?You wish for something, you who are so handsome and brilliant!
_The Woman_: Blinds, my dear Betty, only blinds; for that is all beautyand wealth and wit are. Who sees behind sees scars of many wounds. Youare without a mother, I am without a child. (Sits down beside the girland takes her hand in hers.) Will you let me be a mother to you forjust this morning? How can any man help loving you! (impulsively.)
_The Girl_: How foolish you are, Grace!
_The Woman_: Ah, to blush like that!
_The Girl_: You are very embarrassing this morning. I believe you areeven sentimental. Well, my handsome mother for just this morning, whatis it you have to say to me? (jestingly.)
_The Woman_: I do not know just how to begin. Listen. If ever troubleshould befall you, if ever misfortune should entangle you, will youpromise to come to me?
_The Girl:_ Misfortune? What is on your mind, Grace?
_The Woman:_ Promise!
_The Girl:_ I promise. (Laughs.)
_The Woman:_ I am rich. Promise that if poverty should ever come toyou, you will come to me.
_The Girl_ (puzzled): I do not understand you at all!
_The Woman:_ Promise!
_The Girl:_ I promise; but--
_The Woman:_ Thank you, Betty.
_The Girl_ (growing serious): What is all this about, Grace? You lookso earnest.
_The Woman:_ Some day you will understand. Will you answer me onequestion, as a daughter would answer her mother?
_The Girl_ (gravely): Yes.
_The Woman:_ Would you marry a title for the title's sake?
_The Girl_ (indignantly): I?
_The Woman:_ Yes; would you?
_The Girl:_ I shall marry the man I love, and if not him, nobody. Imean, of course, _when_ I love.
_The Woman:_ Blushing again? My dear, is Karloff anything to you?
_The Girl:_ Karloff? Mercy, no. He is handsome and fascinating andrich, but I could not love him. It would be easier to love--to love mygroom outside.
(They both smile.)
_The Woman_ (grave once more): That is all I wished to know, dear.Karloff is not worthy of you.
_The Girl_ (sitting very erect): I do not understand. Is he nothonorable?
_The Woman_ (hesitating): I have known him for seven years; I havealways found him honorable.
_The Girl:_ Why, then, should he not be worthy of me?
_The Woman_ (lightly): Is any man?
_The Girl:_ You are parrying my question. If I am to be your daughter,there must be no fencing.
_The Woman_ (rising and going over to the portrait again): There aresome things that a mother may not tell even to her daughter.
_The Girl_ (determinedly): Grace, you have said too much or too little.I do not love Karloff, I never could love him; but I like him, andliking him, I feel called upon to defend him.
_Th
e Woman_ (surprised into showing her dismay): You defend him? You!
_The Girl:_ And why not? That is what I wish to know: why not?
_The Woman:_ My dear, you do not love him. That is all I wished toknow. Karloff is a brilliant, handsome man, a gentleman; his sense ofhonor, such as it is, would do credit to many another man; but behindall this there is a power which makes him helpless, makes him a puppet,and robs him of certain worthy impulses. I have read somewhere thatcorporations have no souls; neither have governments. Ask me nothingmore, Betty, for I shall answer no more questions.
_The Girl:_ I do not think you are treating me fairly.
_The Woman:_ At this moment I would willingly share with you half ofall I possess in the world.
_The Girl:_ But all this mystery!
_The Woman:_ As I have said, some day you will understand. TreatKarloff as you have always treated him, politely and pleasantly. And Ibeg of you never to repeat our conversation.
The Girl (to whom illumination suddenly comes; rises quickly and goesover to the woman; takes her by the shoulders, and the two stare intoeach other's eyes, the one searchingly, the other fearfully): Grace!
The Woman: I am a poor foolish woman, Betty, for all my worldliness andwisdom; but I love you (softly), and that is why I appear weak beforeyou. The blind envy those who see, the deaf those who hear; what onedoes not want another can not have. Karloff loves you, but you do notlove him.
(The girl kisses the woman gravely on the cheek, and without a word,makes her departure.)
The Woman (as she hears the carriage roll away): Poor girl! Poor,happy, unconscious, motherless child! If only I had the power to staythe blow! ... Who can it be, then, that she loves?
The Girl (in her carriage): Poor thing! She adores Karloff, and I neversuspected it! I shall begin to hate him.
How well women read each other!
James had never parted with his rose and his handkerchief. They werealways with him, no matter what livery he wore. After luncheon, Williamsaid that Miss Annesley desired to see him in the study. So Jamesspruced up and duly presented himself at the study door.
"You sent for me, Miss?"--his hat in his hand, his attitude deferentialand attentive.
She was engaged upon some fancy work, the name of which no man knows,and if he were told, could not possibly remember for longer than tenminutes. She laid this on the reading-table, stood up and brushed thethreads from the little two-by-four cambric apron.
"James, on Monday night I dropped a rose on the lawn. (Finds thread onher sleeve.) In the morning when I looked for it (brushes the apronagain), it was gone. Did you find it?" She made a little ball of thestraggling threads and dropped it into the waste-basket. A woman whohas the support of beauty can always force a man to lower his gaze.James looked at his boots. His heart gave one great bound toward histhroat, then sank what seemed to be fathoms deep in his breast. Thiswas a thunderbolt out of heaven itself. Had she seen him, then? For aspace he was tempted to utter a falsehood; but there was that in hereyes which warned him of the uselessness of such an expedient. Yet, togive up that rose would be like giving up some part of his being. Sherepeated the question: "I ask you if you found it."
"Yes, Miss Annesley."
"Do you still possess it?"
"Yes, Miss."
"And why did you pick it up?"
"It was fresh and beautiful; and I believed that some lady at thedinner had worn it."
"And so you picked it up? Where did you find it?"
"Outside the bow-window, Miss."
"When?"
He thought for a moment. "In the morning, Miss."
"Take care, James; it was not yet eleven o'clock, at night."
"I admit what I said was not true, Miss. As you say, it was not yeteleven." James was pale. So she had thrown it away, confident that thismoment would arrive. This humiliation was premeditated. Patience, hesaid inwardly; this would be the last opportunity she should have tohumiliate him.
"Have you the flower on your person?"
"Yes, Miss."
"Did you know that it was mine?"
He was silent.
"Did you know that it was mine?"--mercilessly.
"Yes; but I believed that you had deliberately thrown it away. I saw noharm in taking it."
"But there _was harm."_
"I bow to your superior judgment, Miss,"--ironically.
She deemed it wisest to pass over this experimental irony. "Give theflower back to me. It is not proper that a servant should have in hiskeeping a rose which was once mine, even if I had thrown it away ordiscarded it."
Carefully he drew forth the crumpled flower. He looked at her, then atthe rose, hoping against hope that she might relent. He hesitated tillhe saw an impatient movement of the extended hand. He surrendered.
"Thank you. That is all. You may go."
She tossed the withered flower into the waste-basket.
"Pardon me, but before I go I have to announce that I shall resign myposition next Monday. The money which has been advanced to me,deducting that which is due me, together with the amount of my fine atthe police-court, I shall be pleased to return to you on the morning ofmy departure."
Miss Annesley's lips fell apart, and her brows arched. She was verymuch surprised.
"You wish to leave my service?"--as if it were quite impossible thatsuch a thing should occur to him.
"Yes, Miss."
"You are dissatisfied with your position?"--icily.
"It is not that, Miss. As a groom I am perfectly satisfied. The troublelies in the fact that I have too many other things to do. It is verydistasteful for me to act in the capacity of butler. My temper is notequable enough for that position." He bowed.
"Very well. I trust that you will not regret your decision." She satdown and coolly resumed her work.
"It is not possible that I shall regret it."
"You may go."
He bowed again, one corner of his mouth twisted. Then he took himselfoff to the stables. He was certainly in what they call a towering rage.
If I were not a seer of the first degree, a narrator of the penetrativeorder, I should be vastly puzzled over this singular action on her part.