“If she be willing, I can’t see why he is shy?”
“He says it is all right for a poor girl to marry a rich man, but not for a poor man to marry a rich girl. His idea is, that the husband should be able to maintain his wife according to her condition. To marry else, he says, is giving hostages to fortune, and is derogatory to that mutual respect which should exist between them.”
“We all give hostages to fortune when we marry!” Miss Carrington exclaimed.
“Not all!” replied Macloud, meaningly.
She flushed slightly.
“What is it you want me to do?” she asked hastily – “or can I do anything?”
“You can,” he answered. “You can ask Miss Cavendish to visit you for a few days.”
“Can you, by any possibility, mean Elaine Cavendish?”
“That’s exactly who I do mean – do you know her?”
“After a fashion – we went to Dobbs Ferry together.”
“Bully!” exclaimed Macloud. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“You never mentioned her before.”
“True!” he laughed. “This is fortunate, very fortunate! Will you ask her down?”
“She will think it a trifle peculiar.”
“On the contrary, she’ll think it more than kind – a positive favor. You see, she knows I’m with Croyden, but she doesn’t know where; so she wrote to me at my Club and they forwarded it. Croyden left Northumberland without a word – and no one is aware of his residence but me. She asks that I tell her where I am. Then she intends to come down and give Croyden a last chance. I want to help her – and your invitation will be right to the point – she’ll jump at it.”
“You’re a good friend!” she reflected.
“Will you do it?” he asked.
She thought a moment before she answered.
“I’ll do it!” she said at length. “Come, we’ll work out the letter together.”
“Would I not be permitted to kiss you as Miss Cavendish’s deputy?” he exclaimed.
“Miss Cavendish can be her own deputy,” she answered. – “Moreover, it would be premature.”
The second morning after, when Elaine Cavendish’s maid brought her breakfast, Miss Carrington’s letter was on the tray among tradesmen’s circulars, invitations, and friendly correspondence.
She did not recognize the handwriting, and the postmark was unfamiliar, wherefore, coupled with the fact that it was addressed in a particularly stylish hand, she opened it first. It was very brief, very succinct, very informing, and very satisfactory.
“Ashburton,“Hampton, Md“My dear Elaine: —
“Mr. Macloud tells me you are contemplating coming down to the Eastern Shore to look for a country-place. Let me advise Hampton – there are some delightful old residences in this vicinity which positively are crying for a purchaser. Geoffrey Croyden, whom you know, I believe, is resident here, and is thinking of making it his home permanently. If you can be persuaded to come, you are to stay with me – the hotels are simply impossible, and I shall be more than delighted to have you. We can talk over old times at Dobbs, and have a nice little visit together. Don’t trouble to write – just wire the time of your arrival – and come before the good weather departs. Don’t disappoint me.
“With lots of love,“Davila Carrington.”Elaine Cavendish read the letter slowly – and smiled.
“Clever! very clever!” she mused. “Colin is rather a diplomat – he managed it with exceeding adroitness – and the letter is admirably worded. It tells me everything I wanted to know. I’d forgotten about Davila Carrington, and I reckon she had forgotten me, till he somehow found it out and jogged her memory. Surely! I shall accept.”
To-morrow would be Thursday. She went to her desk and wrote this wire, in answer:
“Miss Davila Carrington,
“Hampton, Md.
“I shall be with you Friday, on morning train. You’re very, very kind.
“Elaine Cavendish.”Miss Carrington showed the wire to Macloud.
“Now, I’ve done all that I can; the rest is in your hands,” she said. “I’ll coöperate, but you are the general.”
“Until Elaine comes – she will manage it then,” Macloud answered.
And on Friday morning, a little before noon, Miss Cavendish arrived. Miss Carrington, alone, met her at the station.
“You’re just the same Davila I’d forgotten for years,” said she, laughingly, as they walked across the platform to the waiting carriage.
“And you’re the same I had forgotten,” Davila replied.
“But it’s delightful to be remembered!” said Elaine, meaningly.
“And it’s just as delightful to be able to remember,” was the reply.
Just after they left the business section, on the drive out, Miss Carrington saw Croyden and Macloud coming down the street. Evidently Macloud had not been able to detain him at home until she got her charge safely into Ashburton. She glanced at Miss Cavendish – she had seen them, also, and, settling back into the corner of the phaeton, she hid her face with her Marabou muff.
“Don’t stop!” she said.
Miss Carrington smiled her understanding.
“I won’t!” she answered. “Good morning!” as both men raised their hats – and drove straight on.
“Who was the girl with Miss Carrington?” Croyden asked. “I didn’t see her face.”
“I couldn’t see it!” said Macloud. “I noticed a bag in the trap, however, so I reckon she’s a guest.”
“Unfortunate for you!” Croyden sympathized. “Your opportunity, for the solitariness of two, will be limited.”
“I’ll look to you for help!” Macloud answered.
“Humph! You may look in vain. It depends on what she is – I’m not sacrificing myself on the altar of general unattractiveness.” Then he laughed. “Rest easy, I’ll fuss her to the limit. You shan’t have her to plead for an excuse.”
“An excuse for what?”
“For not winning the Symphony in Blue.”
“You’re overly solicitous. I’m not worried about the guest,” Macloud remarked.
“There was a certain style about as much of her as I could see which promised very well,” Croyden remarked. “I think this would be a good day to drop in for tea.”
“And if you find her something over sixty, you’ll gallantly shove her off on me, and preëmpt Miss Carrington. Oh! you’re very kind.”
“She’s not over sixty – and you know it. You’re by no means as blind as you would have me believe. In fact, now that I think of it, there was something about her that seems familiar.”
“You’re an adept in many things,” laughed Macloud, “but, I reckon, you’re not up to recognizing a brown coat and a brown hat. I think I’ve seen the combination once or twice before on a woman.”
“Well, what about tea-time – shall we go over?” demanded Croyden.
“I haven’t the slightest objection – ”
“Really!”
“ – to your going along with me – I’m expected!”
“Oh! you’re expected, are you! pretty soon it will be: ‘Come over and see us, won’t you?’”
“I trust so,” said Macloud, placidly. – “But, as you’re never coming back to Northumberland, it’s a bit impossible.”
“Oh! damn Northumberland!” said Croyden.
“I’ve a faint recollection of having heard that remark before.”
“I dare say, it’s popular there on smoky days.”
“Which is the same as saying it’s popular there any time.”
“No, I don’t mean that; Northumberland isn’t half so bad as it’s painted. We may make fun of it – but we like it, just the same.”
“Yes, I suppose we do,” said Macloud. “Though we get mighty sick of seeing every scatterbrain who sets fire to the Great White Way branded by the newspapers as a Northumberland millionaire. We’ve got our share of fools, but we haven’t a monopoly of them, by any means.”
“We had a marvelously large crop, however, running loose at one time, recently!” laughed Croyden.
“True! – and there’s the reason for it, as well as the fallacy. Because half a hundred light-weights were made millionaires over night, and, top heavy, straightway went the devil’s pace, doesn’t imply that the entire town is mad.”
“Not at all!” said Croyden. “It’s no worse than any other big town – and the fellows with unsavory reputations aren’t representative. They just came all in a bunch. The misfortune is, that the whole country saw the fireworks, and it hasn’t forgot the lurid display.”
“And isn’t likely to very soon,” Macloud responded, “with the whole Municipal Government rotten to the core, councilmen falling over one another in their eagerness to plead nolle contendere and escape the penitentiary, bankers in jail for bribery, or fighting extradition; and graft! graft! graft! permeating every department of the civic life – and published by the newspapers’ broadcast, through the land, for all the world to read, while the people, as a body, sit supine, and meekly suffer the robbers to remain. The trouble with the Northumberlander is, that so long as he is not the immediate victim of a hold up, he is quiescent. Let him be touched direct – by burglary, by theft, by embezzlement – and the yell he lets out wakes the entire bailiwick.”
“It’s the same everywhere,” said Croyden.
“No, it’s not, – other communities have waked up – Northumberland hasn’t. There is too much of the moneyed interest to be looked after; and the councilmen know it, and are out for the stuff, as brazen as the street-walker, and vastly more insistent. – I’m going in here, for some cigarettes – when I come out, we’ll change the talk to something less irritating. I like Northumberland, but I despise about ninety-nine one hundredths of its inhabitants.”
When he returned, Croyden was gazing after an automobile which was disappearing in a cloud of dust.
“Ever see a motor before?” he asked.
Croyden did not hear him. “The fellow driving, unless I am mightily fooled, is the same who stopped me on the street, in front of Clarendon,” he said.
“That’s interesting – any one with him?”
“A woman.”
“A woman! You’re safe!” said Macloud. “He isn’t travelling around with a petticoat – at least, if he’s thinking of tackling you.”
“It isn’t likely, I admit – but suppose he is?”
The car was rapidly vanishing in the distance. Macloud nodded toward it.
“He is leaving here as fast as the wheels will turn.”
“I’ve got a very accurate memory for faces,” said Croyden. “I couldn’t well be mistaken.”
“Wait and see. If it was he, and he has some new scheme, it will be declared in due time. Nothing yet from the Government?”
“No!”
“It’s a bluff! So long as they think you have the jewels, they will try for them. There’s Captain Carrington standing at his office door. Suppose we go over.”
“Sitting up to grandfather-in-law!” laughed Croyden. “Distinctly proper, sir, distinctly proper! Go and chat with him; I’ll stop for you, presently.”
Meanwhile, the two women had continued on to Ashburton.
“Did he recognize me?” Elaine asked, dropping her muff from before her face, when they were past the two men.
“I think not,” answered Davila.
“Did he give any indication of it?”
“None, whatever.”
“It would make a difference in my – attitude toward him when we met!” she smiled.
“Naturally! a very great difference.” Elaine was nervous, she saw. The fact that Croyden did not come out and stop them, that he let them go on, was sufficient proof that he had not recognized her.
“You see, I am assuming that you know why I wanted to come to Hampton,” Elaine said, when, her greeting made to Mrs. Carrington, she had carried Davila along to her room.
“Yes, dear,” Davila responded.
“And you made it very easy for me to come.”
“I did as I thought you would want – and as I know you would do with me were I in a similar position.”
“I’m sadly afraid I should not have thought of you, were you – ”
“Oh, yes, you would! If you had been in a small town, and Mr. Croyden had told you of my difficulty – ”
“As Mr. Macloud told you of mine – I see, dear.”
“Not exactly that,” said Davila, blushing. “Mr. Macloud has been very attentive and very nice and all that, you know, but you mustn’t forget there are not many girls here, and I’m convenient, and – I don’t take him seriously.”
“How does he take you?” Elaine asked.
“I don’t know – sometimes I think he does, and sometimes I think he doesn’t!” she laughed. “He is an accomplished flirt and difficult to gauge.”
“Well, let me tell you one fact, for your information: there isn’t a more indifferent man in Northumberland. He goes everywhere, is in great demand, is enormously popular, yet, I’ve never known him to have even an affair. He is armor-plated – but he is a dear, a perfect dear, Davila!”
“I know it!” she said, with heightening color – and Elaine said no more, then.
“Shall you prefer to meet Mr. Croyden alone, for the first time, or in company?” Davila asked.
“I confess I don’t know, but I think, however, it would be better to have a few words with Colin, first – if it can be arranged.”
Miss Carrington nodded. “Mr. Macloud is to come in a moment before luncheon, if he can find an excuse that will not include Mr. Croyden.”
“Is an excuse difficult to find – or is any, even, needed?”
Elaine smiled.
“He doesn’t usually come before four – that’s the tea hour in Hampton.”
“Tea!” exclaimed Elaine. “If you’ve got him into the tea habit, you can do what you want with him – he will eat out of your hand.”
“I never tried him with tea,” said Davila. “He chose a high ball the first time – so it’s been a high ball ever since.”
“With gratifying regularity?”
“I admit it!” laughed Davila.
Elaine sat down on the couch and put her arm about Davila.
“These awful men!” she said. “But we shall be good friends, better friends than ever, Davila, when you come to Northumberland to live.”
“That is just the question, Elaine,” was the quick answer; “whether I shall be given the opportunity, and whether I shall take it, if I am. I haven’t let it go so far, because I don’t feel sure of him. Until I do, I intend to keep tight hold on myself.”
“Do it – if you can. You’ll find it much the happier way.”
Just before luncheon, Macloud arrived.
“Bully for you!” was his greeting to Miss Cavendish. “I’m glad to see you here.”
“Yes, I’m here, thanks to you,” said Elaine – and Davila not being present, she kissed him.
“I’m more than repaid!” he said.
“But you wish it were – another?”
“No – but I wish the other – would, too!” he laughed.
“Give her the chance, Colin.”
“You think I may dare?” eagerly.
“You’re not wont to be so timid,” she returned.
“I wish I had some of your bravery,” he said.
“Is it bravery?” she demanded. “Isn’t it impetuous womanliness.”
“Not a bit! There isn’t a doubt as to his feelings.”
“But there is a doubt as to his letting them control – I see.”
“Yes! And you alone can help him solve it – if any one can. And I have great hopes, Elaine, great hopes!” regarding her with approving eyes. “How any chap could resist you is inconceivable – I could not.”
“You could not at one time, you mean.”
“You gave me no encouragement, – so I must, perforce, fare elsewhere.”
“And now?” she asked.
“How many love affairs have you come down here to settle?” he laughed. “By the way, Croyden is impatient to come over this afternoon. The guest in the trap with Miss Carrington has aroused his curiosity. He could see only a long brown coat and a brown hat, but the muff before your face, and his imagination, did the rest.”
“Does he suspect?” she inquired, anxiously.
“That it’s you? No! no! It’s simply the country town beginning to tell on him. He is curious about new guests, and Miss Carrington hadn’t mentioned your coming! He suggested, in a vague sort of way, that there was something familiar about you, but he didn’t attempt to particularize. It was only a momentary idea.”
She looked her relief.
“Shall you meet him alone?”
“I think not – we shall all be present.”
“And how shall you meet him?”
“It depends on how he meets me.”
“I reckon you don’t know much about it – haven’t any plans?”
“No, I haven’t. Everything depends on the moment. He will know why I’m here, and whether he is glad or sorry or displeased at my coming, I shall know instantly. I shall then have my cue. It’s absurd, this notion of his, and why let it rule him and me! I’ve always got what I wanted, and I’m going to get Geoffrey. A Queen of a Nation must propose to a suitor, so why not a Queen of Money to a man less rich than she – especially when she is convinced that that alone keeps them apart. I shall give him a chance to propose to me first; several chances, indeed!” she laughed. “Then, if he doesn’t respond – I shall do it myself.”
XVII
A HANDKERCHIEF AND A GLOVE
Miss Cavendish was standing behind the curtains in the window of her room, when Croyden and Macloud came up the walk, at four o’clock.
She was waiting! – not another touch to be given to her attire. Her gown, of shimmering blue silk, clung to her figure with every movement, and fell to the floor in suggestively revealing folds. Her dark hair was arranged in simple fashion – the simplicity of exquisite taste – making the fair face below it, seem fairer even than it was. She was going to win this man.
She heard them enter the lower hall, and pass into the drawing-room. She glided out to the stairway, and stood, peering down over the balustrade. She heard Miss Carrington’s greeting and theirs – heard Macloud’s chuckle, and Croyden’s quiet laugh. Then she heard Macloud say:
“Mr. Croyden is anxious to meet your guest – at least, we took her to be a guest you were driving with this morning.”
“My guest is equally anxious to meet Mr. Croyden,” Miss Carrington replied.
“Why does she tarry, then?” laughed Croyden.
“Did you ever know a woman to be ready?”
“You were.”
“I am the hostess!” she explained.
“Mr. Croyden imagined there was something familiar about her,” Macloud remarked.
“Do you mean you recognized her?” Miss Carrington asked.
(Elaine strained her ears to catch his answer.)
“She didn’t let me have the chance to recognize her,” said he – “she wouldn’t let me see her face.”
(Elaine gave a little sigh of relief.)
“Wouldn’t?” Miss Carrington interrogated.
“At least, she didn’t.”
“She couldn’t have covered it completely – she saw you.”
“Don’t raise his hopes too high!” Macloud interjected.
“She can’t – I’m on the pinnacle of expectation, now.”
“Humpty-Dumpty risks a great fall!” Macloud warned.
“Not at all!” said Croyden. “If the guest doesn’t please me, I’m going to talk to Miss Carrington.”
“You’re growing blasé,” she warned.
“Is that an evidence of it?” he asked. “If it is, I know one who must be too blasé even to move,” with a meaning glance at Macloud.
A light foot-fall on the stairs, the soft swish of skirts in the hallway, Croyden turned, expectantly – and Miss Cavendish entered the room.
There was an instant’s silence. Croyden’s from astonishment; the others’ with watching him.
Elaine’s eyes were intent on Croyden’s face – and what she saw there gave her great content: he might not be persuaded, but he loved her, and he would not misunderstand. Her face brightened with a fascinating smile.
“You are surprised to see me, messieurs?” she asked, curtsying low.
Croyden’s eyes turned quickly to his friend, and back again.
“I’m not so sure as to Monsieur Macloud,” he said.
“But for yourself?”
“Surprised is quite too light a word – stunned would but meekly express it.”
“Did neither of you ever hear me mention Miss Carrington? – We were friends, almost chums, at Dobbs Ferry.”
“If I did, it has escaped me?” Croyden smiled.
“Well, you’re likely not to forget it again.”
“Did you know that I – that we were here?”
“Certainly! I knew that you and Colin were both here,” Elaine replied, imperturbably. “Do you think yourself so unimportant as not to be mentioned by Miss Carrington?”
“What will you have to drink, Mr. Croyden?” Davila inquired.
“A sour ball, by all means.”
“Is that a reflection on my guest?” she asked – while Elaine and Macloud laughed.
“A reflection on your guest?” he inflected, puzzled.
“You said you would take a sour ball.”
Croyden held up his hands.
“I’m fussed!” he confessed. “I have nothing to plead. A man who mixes a high ball with a sour ball is either rattled or drunk, I am not the latter, therefore – ”
“You mean that my coming has rattled you?” Elaine inquired.
“Yes – I’m rattled for very joy.”
She put her hands before her face.
“Spare my blushes, Geoffrey!”
“You could spare a few – and not miss them!” he laughed.
“Davila, am I?” she demanded.
“Are you what?”
“Blushing?”
“Not the slightest, dear.”
“Here’s your sour ball!” said Macloud, handing him the glass.
“Sweetened by your touch, I suppose!”
“No! By the ladies’ presence – God save them!”
“Colin,” said Croyden, as, an hour later, they walked back to Clarendon, “you should have told me.”
“Should have told you what?” Macloud asked.
“Don’t affect ignorance, old man – you knew Elaine was coming.”
“I did – yesterday.”
“And that it was she in the trap.”
“The muff hid her face from me, too.”
“But you knew.”
“I could only guess.”
“Do you think it was wise to let her come?” Croyden demanded.
“I had nothing to do with her decision. Miss Carrington asked her, she accepted.”
“Didn’t you give her my address?”
“I most assuredly did not.”
Croyden looked at him, doubtfully.
“I’m telling you the truth,” said Macloud. “She tried to get your address, when I was last in Northumberland, and I refused.”
“And then, she stumbles on it through Davila Carrington! The world is small. I reckon, if I went off into some deserted spot in Africa, it wouldn’t be a month until some fellow I knew, or who knows a mutual friend, would come nosing around, and blow on me.”
“Are you sorry she came?” Macloud asked.
“No! I’m not sorry she came – at least, not now, since she’s here. – I’ll be sorry enough when she goes, however.”
“And you will let her go?”
Croyden nodded. “I must – it’s the only proper thing to do.”
“Proper for whom?”
“For both!”
“Would it not be better that she should decide what is proper for her?”
“Proper for me, then.”
“Based on your peculiar notion of relative wealth between husband and wife – without regard to what she may think on the subject. In other words, have you any right to decline the risk, if she is willing to undertake it?”
“The risk is mine, not hers. She has the money. Her income, for three months, about equals my entire fortune.”
“Can’t you forget her fortune?”
“And live at the rate of pretty near two hundred thousand dollars a year?” Croyden laughed. “Could you?”
“I think I could, if I loved the girl.”
“And suffer in your self-respect forever after?”
“There is where we differ. You’re inclined to be hyper-critical. If you play your part, you won’t lose your self-respect.”
“It is a trifle difficult to do – to play my part, when all the world is saying, ‘he married her for her money,’ and shows me scant regard in consequence.”
“Why the devil need you care what the world says!”
“I don’t!”
“What?” Macloud exclaimed.
“I don’t – the world may go hang. But the question is, how long can the man retain the woman’s esteem, with such a handicap.”
“Ah! that is easy! so long as he retains her love.”
“Rather an uncertain quantity.”
“It depends entirely on yourself. – If you start with it, you can hold it, if you take the trouble to try.”
“You’re a strong partisan!” Croyden laughed, as they entered Clarendon.
“And what are you?” Macloud returned.
“Just what I should like to know – ”
“Well, I’ll tell you what you are if you don’t marry Elaine Cavendish,” Macloud interrupted – “You’re an unmitigated fool!”
“Assuming that Miss Cavendish would marry me.”
“You’re not likely to marry her, otherwise,” retorted Macloud, as he went up the stairs. On the landing he halted and looked down at Croyden in the hall below. “And if you don’t take your chance, the chance she has deliberately offered you by coming to Hampton, you are worse than – ” and, with an expressive gesture, he resumed the ascent.
“How do you know she came down here just for that purpose?” Croyden called.
But all that came back in answer, as Macloud went down the hall and into his room, was the whistled air from a popular opera, then running in the Metropolis.
