Page 5 of The Crux: A Novel


  CHAPTER V

  CONTRASTS

  Old England thinks our country Is a wilderness at best-- And small New England thinks the same Of the large free-minded West.

  Some people know the good old way Is the only way to do, And find there must be something wrong In anything that's new.

  To Vivian the new life offered a stimulus, a sense of stir and promiseeven beyond her expectations. She wrote dutiful letters to her mother,trying to describe the difference between this mountain town andBainville, but found the New England viewpoint an insurmountableobstacle.

  To Bainville "Out West" was a large blank space on the map, and theblank space in the mind which matched it was but sparsely dotted witha few disconnected ideas such as "cowboy," "blizzard," "prairiefire," "tornado," "border ruffian," and the like.

  The girl's painstaking description of the spreading, vigorous youngtown, with its fine, modern buildings, its banks and stores andtheatres, its country club and parks, its pleasant social life, madesmall impression on the Bainville mind. But the fact that Miss Elder'sventure was successful from the first did impress old acquaintances,and Mrs. Lane read aloud to selected visitors her daughter's accountsof their new and agreeable friends. Nothing was said of "chaps,""sombreros," or "shooting up the town," however, and therein adistinct sense of loss was felt.

  Much of what was passing in Vivian's mind she could not make clear toher mother had she wished to. The daily presence and very friendlyadvances of so many men, mostly young and all polite (with theexception of Dr. Hale, whose indifference was almost rude bycontrast), gave a new life and color to the days.

  She could not help giving some thought to this varied assortment, andthe carefully preserved image of Morton, already nine years dim, waxeddimmer. But she had a vague consciousness of being untrue to her ideals,or to Mrs. St. Cloud's ideals, now somewhat discredited, and did notreadily give herself up to the cheerful attractiveness of the position.

  Susie found no such difficulty. Her ideals were simple, and whilequite within the bounds of decorum, left her plenty of room foramusement. So popular did she become, so constantly in demand forrides and walks and oft-recurring dances, that Vivian felt called uponto give elder sisterly advice.

  But Miss Susan scouted her admonitions.

  "Why shouldn't I have a good time?" she said. "Think how we grew up!Half a dozen boys to twenty girls, and when there was anything to goto--the lordly way they'd pick and choose! And after all our effortsand machinations most of us had to dance with each other. And thequarrels we had! Here they stand around three deep asking fordances--and _they_ have to dance with each other, and _they_ do thequarreling. I've heard 'em." And Sue giggled delightedly.

  "There's no reason we shouldn't enjoy ourselves, Susie, of course, butaren't you--rather hard on them?"

  "Oh, nonsense!" Sue protested. "Dr. Bellair said I should get marriedout here! She says the same old thing--that it's 'a woman's duty,' andI propose to do it. That is--they'll propose, and I won't do it! Nottill I make up my mind. Now see how you like this!"

  She had taken a fine large block of "legal cap" and set down theirfifteen men thereon, with casual comment.

  1. Mr. Unwin--Too old, big, quiet.

  2. Mr. Elmer Skee--Big, too old, funny.

  3. Jimmy Saunders--Middle-sized, amusing, nice.

  4. P. R. Gibbs--Too little, too thin, too cocky.

  5. George Waterson--Middling, pretty nice.

  6. J. J. Cuthbert--Big, horrid.

  7. Fordham Greer--Big, pleasant.

  8. W. S. Horton--Nothing much.

  9. A. L. Dykeman--Interesting, too old.

  10. Professor Toomey--Little, horrid.

  11. Arthur Fitzwilliam--Ridiculous, too young.

  12. Howard Winchester--Too nice, distrust him.

  13. Lawson W. Briggs--Nothing much.

  14. Edward S. Jenks--Fair to middling.

  15. Mr. A. Smith--Minus.

  She held it up in triumph. "I got 'em all out of the book--quitecorrect. Now, which'll you have."

  "Susie Elder! You little goose! Do you imagine that all these fifteenmen are going to propose to you?"

  "I'm sure I hope so!" said the cheerful damsel. "We've only beensettled a fortnight and one of 'em has already!"

  Vivian was impressed at once. "Which?--You don't mean it!"

  Sue pointed to the one marked "minus."

  "It was only 'A. Smith.' I never should be willing to belong to 'A.Smith,' it's too indefinite--unless it was a last resort. Several moreare--well, extremely friendly! Now don't look so severe. You needn'tworry about me. I'm not quite so foolish as I talk, you know."

  She was not. Her words were light and saucy, but she was as demure anddecorous a little New Englander as need be desired; and she could nothelp it if the hearts of the unattached young men of whom the town wasfull, warmed towards her.

  Dr. Bellair astonished them at lunch one day in their first week.

  "Dick Hale wants us all to come over to tea this afternoon," she said,as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

  "Tea? Where?" asked Mrs. Pettigrew sharply.

  "At his house. He has 'a home of his own,' you know. And heparticularly wants you, Mrs. Pettigrew--and Miss Elder--the girls, ofcourse."

  "I'm sure I don't care to go," Vivian remarked with sereneindifference, but Susie did.

  "Oh, come on, Vivian! It'll be so funny! A man's home!--and we maynever get another chance. He's such a bear!"

  Dr. Hale's big house was only across the road from theirs, standing ina large lot with bushes and trees about it.

  "He's been here nine years," Dr. Bellair told them. "That's an oldinhabitant for us. He boarded in that house for a while; then it was forsale and he bought it. He built that little office of his at thecorner--says he doesn't like to live where he works, or work where helives. He took his meals over here for a while--and then set up forhimself."

  "I should think he'd be lonely," Miss Elder suggested.

  "Oh, he has his boys, you know--always three or four young fellowsabout him. It's a mighty good thing for them, too."

  Dr. Hale's home proved a genuine surprise. They had regarded it as abig, neglected-looking place, and found on entering the gate that theinside view of that rampant shrubbery was extremely pleasant. Thoughnot close cut and swept of leaves and twigs, it still was beautiful;and the tennis court and tether-ball ring showed the ground well used.

  Grandma looked about her with a keen interrogative eye, and was muchimpressed, as, indeed, were they all. She voiced their feelingsjustly when, the true inwardness of this pleasant home bursting fullyupon them, she exclaimed:

  "Well, of all things! A man keeping house!"

  "Why not?" asked Dr. Hale with his dry smile. "Is there anydeficiency, mental or physical, about a man, to prevent his attemptingthis abstruse art?"

  She looked at him sharply. "I don't know about deficiency, but thereseems to be somethin' about 'em that keeps 'em out of the business. Iguess it's because women are so cheap."

  "No doubt you are right, Mrs. Pettigrew. And here women are scarce andhigh. Hence my poor efforts."

  His poor efforts had bought or built a roomy pleasant house, andfurnished it with a solid comfort and calm attractiveness that wasmost satisfying. Two Chinamen did the work; cooking, cleaning,washing, waiting on table, with silent efficiency. "They are as steadyas eight-day clocks," said Dr. Hale. "I pay them good wages and theyare worth it."

  "Sun here had to go home once--to be married, also, to see his honoredparents, I believe, and to leave a grand-'Sun' to attend to theancestors; but he brought in another Chink first and trained him sowell that I hardly noticed the difference. Came back in a year or so,and resumed his place without a jar."

  Miss Elder watched with fascinated eyes these soft-footed servantswith clean, white garments and shiny coils of long, braided hair.

  "I may have to come to it," she admitted, "but--dear me, it doesn'tse
em natural to have a man doing housework!"

  Dr. Hale smiled again. "You don't want men to escape from dependence, Isee. Perhaps, if more men knew how comfortably they could live withoutwomen, the world would be happier." There was a faint wire-edge to histone, in spite of the courteous expression, but Miss Elder did notnotice it and if Mrs. Pettigrew did, she made no comment.

  They noted the varied excellences of his housekeeping with highapproval.

  "You certainly know how, Dr. Hale," said Miss Orella; "I particularlyadmire these beds--with the sheets buttoned down, German fashion,isn't it? What made you do that?"

  "I've slept so much in hotels," he answered; "and found the sheetsalways inadequate to cover the blankets--and the marks of other men'swhiskers! I don't like blankets in my neck. Besides it saves washing."

  Mrs. Pettigrew nodded vehemently. "You have sense," she said.

  The labor-saving devices were a real surprise to them. A "chute" forsoiled clothing shot from the bathroom on each floor to the laundry inthe basement; a dumbwaiter of construction large and strong enough tocarry trunks, went from cellar to roof; the fireplaces dropped theirashes down mysterious inner holes; and for the big one in theliving-room a special "lift" raised a box of wood up to the floorlevel, hidden by one of the "settles."

  "Saves work--saves dirt--saves expense," said Dr. Hale.

  Miss Hale and her niece secretly thought the rooms rather bare, butDr. Bellair was highly in favor of that very feature.

  "You see Dick don't believe in jimcracks and dirt-catchers, and helikes sunlight. Books all under glass--no curtains to wash and darnand fuss with--none of those fancy pincushions and embroideredthingummies--I quite envy him."

  "Why don't you have one yourself, Johnny?" he asked her.

  "Because I don't like housekeeping," she said, "and you do. Masculineinstinct, I suppose!"

  "Huh!" said Mrs. Pettigrew with her sudden one-syllable chuckle.

  The girls followed from room to room, scarce noticing these comments, orthe eager politeness of the four pleasant-faced young fellows who formedthe doctor's present family. She could not but note the intelligentefficiency of the place, but felt more deeply the underlying spirit, thebig-brotherly kindness which prompted his hospitable care of these niceboys. It was delightful to hear them praise him.

  "O, he's simply great," whispered Archie Burns, a ruddy-cheeked youngScotchman. "He pretends there's nothing to it--that he wantscompany--that we pay for all we get--and that sort of thing, you know;but this is no boarding house, I can tell you!" And then he flushed tillhis very hair grew redder--remembering that the guests came from one.

  "Of course not!" Vivian cordially agreed with him. "You must havelovely times here. I don't wonder you appreciate it!" and she smiledso sweetly that he felt at ease again.

  Beneath all this cheery good will and the gay chatter of the group herquick sense caught an impression of something hidden and repressed.She felt the large and quiet beauty of the rooms; the smooth comfort,the rational, pleasant life; but still more she felt a deep keynote ofloneliness.

  The pictures told her most. She noted one after another with inwardcomment.

  "There's 'Persepolis,'" she said to herself--"loneliness incarnate;and that other lion-and-ruin thing,--loneliness and decay. Gerome's'Lion in the Desert,' too, the same thing. Then Daniel--more lions,more loneliness, but power. 'Circe and the Companions ofUlysses'--cruel, but loneliness and power again--of a sort. There'sthat 'Island of Death' too--a beautiful thing--but O dear!--And youngBurne-Jones' 'Vampire' was in one of the bedrooms--that one he shutthe door of!"

  While they ate and drank in the long, low-ceiled wide-windowed roombelow, she sought the bookcases and looked them over curiously.Yes--there was Marcus Aurelius, Epictetus, Plato, Emerson andCarlisle--the great German philosophers, the French, the English--allshowing signs of use.

  Dr. Hale observed her inspection. It seemed to vaguely annoy him, asif someone were asking too presuming questions.

  "Interested in philosophy, Miss Lane?" he asked, drily, coming towardher.

  "Yes--so far as I understand it," she answered.

  "And how far does that go?"

  She felt the inference, and raised her soft eyes to his ratherreproachfully.

  "Not far, I am afraid. But I do know that these books teach one how tobear trouble."

  He met her gaze steadily, but something seemed to shut, deep in hiseyes. They looked as unassailable as a steel safe. He straightened hisbig shoulders with a defiant shrug, and returned to sit by Mrs.Pettigrew, to whom he made himself most agreeable.

  The four young men did the honors of the tea table, with devotion toall; and some especially intended for the younger ladies. Miss Eldercried out in delight at the tea.

  "Where did you get it, Dr. Hale? Can it be had here?"

  "I'm afraid not. That is a particular brand. Sun brought me a chest ofit when he came from his visit."

  When they went home each lady was given a present, Chinesefashion--lychee nuts for Sue, lily-bulbs for Vivian, a large fan forMrs. Pettigrew, and a package of the wonderful tea for Miss Orella.

  "That's a splendid thing for him to do," she said, as they walkedback. "Such a safe place for those boys!"

  "It's lovely of him," Sue agreed. "I don't care if he is awoman-hater."

  Vivian said nothing, but admitted, on being questioned, that "he wasvery interesting."

  Mrs. Pettigrew was delighted with their visit. "I like this country,"she declared. "Things are different. A man couldn't do that inBainville--he'd be talked out of town."

  That night she sought Dr. Bellair and questioned her.

  "Tell me about that man," she demanded. "How old is he?"

  "Not as old as he looks by ten years," said the doctor. "No, I can'ttell you why his hair's gray."

  "What woman upset him?" asked the old lady.

  Dr. Bellair regarded her thoughtfully. "He has made me no confidences,Mrs. Pettigrew, but I think you are right. It must have been a severeshock--for he is very bitter against women. It is a shame, too, for heis one of the best of men. He prefers men patients--and gets them. Thewomen he will treat if he must, but he is kindest to the 'fallen' ones,and inclined to sneer at the rest. And yet he's the straightest man Iever knew. I'm thankful to have him come here so much. He needs it."

  Mrs. Pettigrew marched off, nodding sagely. She felt a large and growinginterest in her new surroundings, more especially in the numerous boys,but was somewhat amazed at her popularity among them. These young menwere mainly exiles from home; the older ones, though more settledperhaps, had been even longer away from their early surroundings; and areal live Grandma, as Jimmy Saunders said, was an "attraction."

  "If you were mine," he told her laughingly, "I'd get a pianist andsome sort of little side show, and exhibit you all up and down themountains!--for good money. Why some of the boys never had a Grandma,and those that did haven't seen one since they were kids!"

  "Very complimentary, I'm sure--but impracticable," said the old lady.

  The young men came to her with confidences, they asked her advice,they kept her amused with tales of their adventures; some true, somegreatly diversified; and she listened with a shrewd little smile and awag of the head--so they never were quite sure whether they were"fooling" Grandma or not.

  To her, as a general confidant, came Miss Peeder with a tale of woe. Thelittle hall that she rented for her dancing classes had burned down on awindy Sunday, and there was no other suitable and within her means.

  "There's Sloan's; but it's over a barroom--it's really not possible.And Baker's is too expensive. The church rooms they won't let fordancing--I don't know what I _am_ to do, Mrs. Pettigrew!"

  "Why don't you ask Orella Elder to rent you her dining-room--it's bigenough. They could move the tables----"

  Miss Peeder's eyes opened in hopeful surprise. "Oh, if she _would_! Do_you_ think she would? It would be ideal."

  Miss Elder being called upon, was quite fluttered by the proposition,
and consulted Dr. Bellair.

  "Why not?" said that lady. "Dancing is first rate exercise--good forus all. Might as well have the girls dance here under your eye asgoing out all the time--and it's some addition to the income. They'llpay extra for refreshments, too. I'd do it."

  With considerable trepidation Miss Orella consented, and their first"class night" was awaited by her in a state of suppressed excitement.

  To have music and dancing--"with refreshments"--twice a week--in herown house--this seemed to her like a career of furious dissipation.

  Vivian, though with a subtle sense of withdrawal from a too generalintimacy, was inwardly rather pleased; and Susie bubbled over withdelight.

  "Oh what fun!" she cried. "I never had enough dancing! I don't believeanybody has!"

  "We don't belong to the Class, you know," Vivian reminded her.

  "Oh yes! Miss Peeder says we must _all_ come--that she would feel _very_badly if we didn't; and the boarders have all joined--to a man!"

  Everyone seemed pleased except Mrs. Jeaune. Dancing she consideredimmoral; music, almost as much so--and Miss Elder trembled lest shelose her. But the offer of extra payments for herself and son on thesetwo nights each week proved sufficient to quell her scruples.

  Theophile doubled up the tables, set chairs around the walls, waxed thefloor, and was then sent to bed and locked in by his anxious mother.

  She labored, during the earlier hours of the evening, in thepreparation of sandwiches and coffee, cake and lemonade--which viandswere later shoved through the slide by the austere cook, anddistributed as from a counter by Miss Peeder's assistant. Mrs. Jeaunewould come no nearer, but peered darkly upon them through thepeep-hole in the swinging door.

  It was a very large room, due to the time when many "mealers" had beenaccommodated. There were windows on each side, windows possessing theunusual merit of opening from the top; wide double doors made the bigfront hall a sort of anteroom, and the stairs and piazza furnishedopportunities for occasional couples who felt the wish for retirement.In the right-angled passages, long hat-racks on either side were hungwith "Derbies," "Kossuths" and "Stetsons," and the ladies took offtheir wraps, and added finishing touches to their toilettes in MissElder's room.

  The house was full of stir and bustle, of pretty dresses, of gigglesand whispers, and the subdued exchange of comments among thegentlemen. The men predominated, so that there was no lack of partnersfor any of the ladies.

  Miss Orella accepted her new position with a half-terrified enjoyment.Not in many years had she found herself so in demand. Her always neatand appropriate costume had blossomed suddenly for the occasion; herhair, arranged by the affectionate and admiring Susie, seemed softerand more voluminous. Her eyes grew brilliant, and the delicate colorin her face warmed and deepened.

  Miss Peeder had installed a pianola to cover emergencies, but on thisopening evening she had both piano and violin--good, lively,sole-stirring music. Everyone was on the floor, save a few gentlemenwho evidently wished they were.

  Sue danced with the gaiety and lightness of a kitten among wind-blownleaves, Vivian with gliding grace, smooth and harmonious, Miss Orellawith skill and evident enjoyment, though still conscientious in everyaccurate step.

  Presently Mrs. Pettigrew appeared, sedately glorious in black silk,jet-beaded, and with much fine old lace. She bore in front of her asmall wicker rocking chair, and headed for a corner near the door. Herburden was promptly taken from her by one of the latest comers, a tallperson with a most devoted manner.

  "Allow _me_, ma'am," he said, and placed the little chair at the pointshe indicated. "No lady ought to rustle for rockin' chairs with somany gentlemen present."

  He was a man of somewhat advanced age, but his hair was still moreblack than white and had a curly, wiggish effect save as itsindigenous character was proven by three small bare patches of aconspicuous nature.

  He bowed so low before her that she could not help observing thesedistinctions, and then answered her startled look before she had timeto question him.

  "Yes'm," he explained, passing his hand over head; "scalped threeseveral times and left for dead. But I'm here yet. Mr. Elmer Skee, atyour service."

  "I thought when an Indian scalped you there wasn't enough hair left tomake Greeley whiskers," said Grandma, rising to the occasion.

  "Oh, no, ma'am, they ain't so efficacious as all that--not in theseparts. I don't know what the ancient Mohawks may have done, but theApaches only want a patch--smaller to carry and just as good to showoff. They're collectors, you know--like a phil-e-a-to-lol-o-gist!"

  "Skee, did you say?" pursued the old lady, regarding him with interestand convinced that there was something wrong with the name of thatspecies of collector.

  "Yes'm. Skee--Elmer Skee. No'm, _not_ pronounced 'she.' Do I look likeit?"

  Mr. Skee was an interesting relic of that stormy past of the once WildWest which has left so few surviving. He had crossed the plains as achild, he told her, in the days of the prairie schooner, had then andthere lost his parents and his first bit of scalp, was picked up aliveby a party of "movers," and had grown up in a playground of sixteenstates and territories.

  Grandma gazed upon him fascinated. "I judge you might be interestingto talk with," she said, after he had given her this brief sketch ofhis youth.

  "Thank you, ma'am," said Mr. Skee. "May I have the pleasure of thisdance?"

  "I haven't danced in thirty years," said she, dubitating.

  "The more reason for doing it now," he calmly insisted.

  "Why not?" said Mrs. Pettigrew, and they forthwith executed a speciesof march, the gentleman pacing with the elaborate grace of a circushorse, and Grandma stepping at his side with great decorum.

  Later on, warming to the occasion, Mr. Skee frisked and high-steppedwith the youngest and gayest, and found the supper so wholly to hisliking that he promptly applied for a room, and as soon as one wasvacant it was given to him.

  Vivian danced to her heart's content and enjoyed the friendlymerriment about her; but when Fordham Greer took her out on the longpiazza to rest and breathe a little, she saw the dark bulk of thehouse across the street and the office with its half-lit window, andcould not avoid thinking of the lonely man there.

  He had not come to the dance, no one expected that, of course; but allhis boys had come and were having the best of times.

  "It's his own fault, of course; but it's a shame," she thought.

  The music sounded gaily from within, and young Greer urged for anotherdance.

  She stood there for a moment, hesitating, her hand on his arm, when atall figure came briskly up the street from the station, turned in attheir gate, came up the steps----

  The girl gave a little cry, and shrank back for an instant, theneagerly came forward and gave her hand to him.

  It was Morton.