CHAPTER VII--VARYING VICISSITUDES
A footman had brought the message, which Bob now took and openedmechanically. It was from the commodore.
"For heaven's sake," it ran, "return at once to New York Will explain."
Bob eyed it gloomily. The commodore must have been considerably rattledwhen he had sent that.
"Any answer, sir?" said the footman.
Bob shook his head. What could he answer? He couldn't run away now; thecommodore ought to know that. Of all fool telegrams!--
"A business message, I suppose?" purred the lady at his side. "I trustit is nothing very important, to call you away?"
"No, I shouldn't call it important," said Bob. "Quite unnecessary, Ishould call it."
He crumpled up the message and thrust it into his pocket. At that momentone of Mrs. Ralston's paid performers--a high-class monologist--began toearn his fee. He was quite funny and soon had every one laughing. Bobstrove to forget his troubles and laugh too. Mrs. Dan couldn't very welltalk to him now, and relieved from that lady's pertinent prattle, hegradually let that "dull-care grip" slip from his resistless fingers.Welcoming the mocking goddess of the cap and bells, he yielded to theinfectious humor and before long forgot the telegram and everything savethat crop of near-new stories.
But when the dinner was finally over, he found himself, again wrapped indeep gloom, wandering alone on the broad balcony. He didn't just knowhow he came to be out there all alone--whether he drifted away frompeople or whether they drifted away from him. Anyhow he wasn't burdenedwith any one's company. He entertained a vague recollection that severalpeople had turned their backs on him. So if he was forced to lead ahermit's life it wasn't his fault. Probably old Diogenes hadn't _wanted_to live in that tub; people had made him. They wouldn't stand him in ahouse. There wasn't room for him and any one else in the biggest houseever built. So the only place where truth could find that real, cozy,homey feeling was _alone_ in a tub. And things weren't any betterto-day. Nice commentary on our boasted "advanced civilization!"
Bob felt as if he were the most-alone man in the world! Why, he was solonesome, he wasn't even acquainted with himself. This was only his"double" walking here. He knew now what that German poet was driving atin those _Der Doppleganger_ verses. His "double" was alone. Where washe?--the real he--the original ego? Hanged if he knew! He looked up atthe moon, but it couldn't tell him. At the same time, in spite of thatnew impersonal relationship he had established toward himself, he felthe ought to be immensely relieved in one respect. There would be no"cozy-cornering" for him that evening. He had the whole wide world tohimself. He could be a wandering Jew as well as a _Doppleganger_, if hewanted to.
He made out now two shadows, or figures, in the moonlight. Mrs. Dan andMrs. Clarence were walking and talking together, but somehow he wasn'tat all curious about them. His mental faculties seemed numbed, as if hisbrain were way off somewhere--between the earth and the moon, perhaps.Then he heard the purring of a car, which seemed way off, too. He sawMrs. Dan and Mrs. Clarence get into the car and heard Mrs. Dan murmursomething about the village and the telegraph office, and the car sliddownward. Bob watched its rear light receding this way and that, like awill-o'-the-wisp, or a lonesome firefly, until it disappeared on thewinding road. A cool breeze touched him without cooling his brow. Bobthrew away a cigar. What's the use of smoking when you don't taste theweed?
He wondered what he should do now? Go to bed, or--? It was too early forbed. He wouldn't go to bed at that hour, if he kept to thateven-tenor-of-his-way condition. He hadn't violated any condition, sofar. Those fellows who had inveigled him into this wild and woollymoving-picture kind of an impossible freak performance would have toconcede that. There could be no ground for complaint that he wasn'tliving up to the letter and spirit of his agreement, even at thesacrifice of his most sacred feelings. Yes, by yonder gracious lady ofthe glorious moon! He wondered where _his_ gracious lady was now andwhat she was doing? Of course, the hammer-thrower was with her.
"Are you meditating on your loneliness, Mr. Bennett?" said awell-remembered voice. The tones were even and composed. They were alsodistantly cold. Bob wheeled. Stars of a starry night! It was she.
* * * * *
She came right up and spoke to him--the pariah--the abhorred of many!His heart gave a thump and he could feel its hammering as his glowingeyes met the beautiful icy ones.
"How did you get rid of him?" he breathed hoarsely.
"Him?" said Miss Gwendoline Gerald, in a tone whose stillness shouldhave warned Bob.
"That sledge-hammer man? That weight-putter? That Olympian villageblacksmith, I mean? The fellow with the open honest face?"
"I don't believe I understand," observed the young lady, straight andproud as a wonderful princess in the moonlight. Bob gazed at her inrapture. Talk about the shoulders of that girl who had given him thecold shoulder at the dinner-table!--Miss Gwendoline's shoulders were athousand times superior; they would cause any sculptor to rave. Theirplastic beauty was that of the purest marble in that pure light. Andthat pure, perfect face, likewise bathed in the celestial flood oflight--until now, never had he quite realized what he had lost, inlosing her.
"But never mind about explaining," went on the vision, apropos of Bob'sOlympian, village-blacksmith remark. "I didn't come to discussgeneralities."
"Of course not," assented Bob eagerly.
The music from the house now sounded suspiciously like a trot. MissGerald saw, though indistinctly, a face look out of the door. It mighthave been the little dark thing peering around for Bob, for she wasquite capable of doing that. Bob didn't notice her--if it were she. Hehad eyes for but one. He was worshiping in that distant, eager, hungry,lost-soul kind of a way. Miss Gerald's glance returned to Bob.
"Will you be so good as to take a turn or two about the garden with me?"she said in a calm, if hard and matter-of-fact tone. A number of peoplewere now approaching from the other end of the broad, partially-enclosedspace and Miss Gerald had observed them.
"Will I?" Bob's accents expressed more eloquently than words how he feltabout complying with that request. Would a man dying of thirst drink agoblet of cool, sparkling spring-water? Would a miser refuse gold? Or acanine a bone? "Will I?" repeated Bob, ecstatically, and threw back hisshoulders. Thus men go forth to conquer. He did not realize how uniquehe was at the moment, for he was quite swept away. The girl cast on hima quick enigmatic glance, then led the way.
Sometimes his eyes turned to the stars and sometimes toward her as theymoved along. In the latter instance, they were almost proprietary, as ifhe knew she ought to belong to him, though she never would. The starsseemed to say she was made for him, the breeze to whisper it. Of course,he hadn't really any right to act "proprietary"; it was taking a certainpoetic license with the situation. Once Miss Gerald caught thatproprietary look and into the still depths of her own gaze sprang anexpression of wonder. But it didn't linger; her eyes became once morecoldly, proudly assured.
Bob didn't ask whither she was leading him, or what fate had in storefor him. Sufficient unto the present moment was the happiness thereof! Afool's paradise is better than no paradise at all. He didn't stop now toconsider that he might be playing with verity when he hugged to hisbreast an illusory joy.
She didn't talk at first, but he didn't find anything to complain of inthat. It was blissful enough just to swing along silently at her side.He didn't have to bother about the truth-proposition when she didn't sayanything. He could yield to a quiet unadulterated joy in the stillness.If denied, temporarily, the music of her voice, he was, at least,privileged to visualize her, as she walked along the narrow path withthe freedom and grace of a young goddess, or one of Diana's lithe forestattendants. The vision, at length, stopped at the verge of a terracewhere stood an Italian-looking little summer-house, or shelter. No onewas in it, and she entered. They wouldn't be disturbed here.
She leaned on a marble balustrade and for a moment lo
oked down upon theshadowy tree-tops. The moonlight glinted a rounded white arm. Bobbreathed deep. It was a spot for lovers. But there was still nolove-light in Miss Gerald's eyes. They met the gaze of Bob, who hadn'tyet come out of that paradoxical trance, with cold contemplation.
"Do you know what people are beginning to say about you, Mr. Bennett?"began the vision, with considerable decision in her tones.
"No," said Bob.
"Some of them are wondering--well, if you are mentally quite all right."
"Are they?" It was more the silvery sound of her voice than what peoplewere saying that interested Bob.
"The judge and Mrs. Vanderpool have agreed that you aren't. People are alittle divided in the matter."
"Indeed?" observed Bob. Of course if people were "divided," that wouldmake it more interesting for them. Give them something to talk about!
"The doctor agrees with the judge and Mrs. Vanderpool, but the bishopseems inclined to give you the benefit of the doubt," went on MissGerald, her silvery tones as tranquil and cold as moonlight on the stillsurface of an inland sea. "He said something about inheritedeccentricities, probably just beginning to crop out. Or suggested itmight be--well, a pose."
"Very nice of the bishop!" muttered Bob. "Benefit of the doubt? Quiteso! Fine old chap!"
"Is that all you have to say?" said Miss Gerald, a faint note of scornin her voice now. As she spoke she leaned slightly toward him. Themoonlight touched the golden hair.
"Maybe he felt he had to differ," remarked Bob, intent on the goldenhair (it wasn't golden out here, of course) and the stars beyond. "Hemight not really differ at heart, but he had to seem broad andcharitable. Ecclesiastical obligation, or habit, don't you see!"
"I don't quite see," said the girl, though her bright eyes lookedcapable of seeing a great deal.
"No?" murmured Bob. Some of that paradoxical happiness seemed to befading from him. He couldn't hold it; it seemed as elusive as moonshine.If only she would stand there silently and let him continue to worshipher, like that devout lover in the song--in "distant reverence." Itwasn't surely quite consistent for a goddess to be so practical andmatter-of-fact.
"There are others who agree with the doctor and the judge and Mrs.Vanderpool," continued the girl.
"You mean about my having a screw loose?"
"Exactly." Crisply. "And some of them have consulted me."
"And what did you say?" Quickly.
"I'm afraid I couldn't enlighten them. I believe I suggested that suntheory--although it really wasn't blistering hot to-day, and you," withinimitable irony, "look capable of standing a little sunshine."
"Yes, I feel as if I could stand a whole lot," said Bob gloomily.
"Also I said," unmindful of this last remark, "there is sometimes amethod in eccentricity, or madness. Lord Stanfield agreed with me. Hesaid he found you an 'interesting young man.'"
"Did he? Confound his impudence!" That monocle-man certainly did ruffleBob.
"You forget he's an old friend of my aunt's." Severely. "As I wassaying, Lord Stanfield found you 'interesting,' and we agreed theremight be a method," studying him closely, "but when we came to searchfor one, we couldn't find it."
She didn't ask a question, so he didn't have to reply.
"Mr. Bennett, why did you answer me like that down in the village?"
Bob hung his head. He felt worse than a boy detected stealing apples."Had to," he muttered desperately.
"Why?" There was no mercy in that still pitiless voice.
Bob took another long breath. "Please don't ask me," he pleaded after anominous pause. That wasn't not telling the truth; it was onlytemporizing.
The violet eyes gleamed dangerously. "I'm just a little bit curious,"said the girl in the same annihilating tone. "In the light of subsequentproceedings, you will understand! And as Mrs. Ralston's niece! Auntdoesn't quite realize things yet. The others have spared her feelings. Ihaven't, of course, gone to her. Aunt and I never 'talk over' ourguests." Proudly.
That made Bob wince. He looked at her with quite helpless eyes. "Maybeshe will order me off the premises before long," he said eagerly. "Ihave already been considering the possibility of it. Believe me,"earnestly, "it would be the best way. Can't you seeI'm--dangerous--positively dangerous? I'm worse than a socialist--ananarchist! Why, a Russian nihilist couldn't make half the trouble in theworld that I can. I'm a regular walking disturber. Disaster follows inmy path." Bitterly. "Some people look upon me as worse than the blackplague. Now if your aunt would only turn me out? You see I can't gounless she does. Got to think of that even-tenor-of-my-way! But if shewould only quietly intimate--or set the dog on me--"
The girl gazed at him more steadily. "I wonder if the judge and thedoctor and Mrs. Vanderpool aren't right, after all?" she observedslowly. "Let me look in your eyes, Mr. Bennett." Bob did. Miss Geraldhad heard that one could always tell crazy people by their eyes. Sheintended to sift this matter to the bottom and therefore proceeded withcharacteristic directness. Folk that were--well, "off," she had beentold, invariably showed that they were that, by a peculiar glitter.
Miss Gerald gazed a few moments critically, steadily and with unswervingintention. Bob withstood that look with mingled wretchedness andrapture. He began to forget that they were just the eyes of a would-beexpert on a mental matter, and his own eyes, looking deeper and deeperin those wonderful violet depths (he stood so she got the benefit of themoonlight) began to gleam with that old, old gleam Miss Gerald couldremember in the past. Bob had never _talked_ love in those blissful daysof yore, but he had looked it.
"I don't see any signs of insanity," said the girl at length with coldassurance. That gleam wasn't a glitter. Nothing crazy about it! She hadseen it too often in other men's eyes, as well as in Bob's--not perhapsto such a marked degree in other men's eyes,-but sufficiently so thatshe was fairly familiar with it. "You look normal enough to me."
"Thank you," said Bob gratefully.
"And that's just why"--a slight frown on the smooth fine brow--"I don'tunderstand. Of course, a man not normal, might have answered as you didme (I'm not thinking of it as a personal matter, you will understand)."
"Oh, I understand that," returned Bob. "I'm just a problem, not aperson." She made him quite realize that. She made it perfectly andunmistakably apparent that he was, unto her, as some example intrigonometry, or geometry, or algebra, and she wanted to find the"solution." He was an "X"--the unknown quantity. The expression on herpatrician features was entirely scholastic and calculating. Bob now feltthe ardor of his gaze becoming cold as moonlight. This wasn't a lovers'bower; it was only a _palestra_, or an observatory.
"You haven't answered me yet," she said.
No diverting her from her purpose! She was certainly persistent.
"You insist I shall tell you why I didn't want to see you?"
She looked at him quickly. "That isn't what I asked, Mr. Bennett. Iasked you to explain that remark in the village."
"Same thing!" he murmured. "And it's rather hard to explain, but if I'vegot to--?" He looked at her. On her face was the look of proudunyielding insistence. "Of course, I've got to tell you the truth," saidBob, and his tone now was dead and dull. "In the first place, dad'sbusted, clean down and out, and--well, I thought I wouldn't see you anymore."
"I fail to see the connection." Her tones were as metallic as a voicelike hers could make them.
"It's like this!" said Bob, ruffling his hair. Here was a fine romanticway to make an avowal. "You see I was in love with you," he observed,looking the other way and addressing one of the furthermost stars of theheaven. "And--and--when a fellow's in love--and he can't--ah!--well, youknow--ask the girl--you understand?"
"Very vaguely," said Miss Gerald. Bob's explanation, so far, was one ofthose explanations that didn't explain. If he had so heroically made uphis mind not to see her, he could have stayed away, of course, from theRalston house. He couldn't explain how he was bound to accept theinvitation to come, on account of being in "honor bound" to that
confounded commodore, et al., to do so. There were bound to be looseends to his explanation. Besides, those other awfully unpleasant thingsthat had happened? He had to tell the truth, but he couldn't tell why hewas telling the truth. That had been the understanding.
Miss Gerald, at this point, began to display some of those alert andanalytical qualities of mind that had made her father one of the greatrailroad men of his day. For an instant she had turned her head slightlyat Bob's avowal--who shall say why? It may be she had felt the bloodrush swiftly to her face, but if so a moment later she looked at himwith that same icy calm. One hand had tightened on the cold balustrade,but Bob hadn't noticed that. She plied him now with a number ofquestions. She kept him on the gridiron and while he wriggled andtwisted she stirred up the coals, displaying all the ability of anexpert stoker. He was supersensitive about seeing her and yet as a freeagent (she thought him that) he _had_ seen her. From her point of view,his mental processes were hopelessly illogical--worse than that. Yet sheknew he was possessed of a tolerable mentality and a good-enoughjudgment for one who had in his composition a slight touch ofrecklessness.
"I give it up," she said at length wearily.
"Do you? Oh, thank you!" exclaimed Bob gratefully. "And if your auntorders me from the place--"
"But why can't you just go, if you want to? I'm sure no one will detainyou." Haughtily.
"Can't explain, only it's impossible. Like Prometheus bound to the rockfor vultures to peck at, unless--"
"How intelligible! And what a happy simile--under the circumstances!"with far-reaching scorn. "What if I should tell my aunt that her guestcompared himself to--?"
"That's the idea!" returned Bob enthusiastically. "Tell her that! Then,by jove, she would--Promise me! Please!"
"Of course," said the girl slowly, "my diagnosis must be wrong." Orperhaps she meant that she had lost faith in that glitter-theory.
"If you only _could_ understand!" burst from Bob explosively. It wasnature calling out, protesting against such a weight of anguish.
But Miss Gerald did not respond. A statue could not have appeared moreunaffected and unsympathetic. She had half turned as if to go; then shechanged her mind and lingered. It annoyed her to feel she had beenbaffled, for she was a young woman who liked to drive right to the heartof things. Her father had been called a "czar" in his world, and she hadinherited, with other of his traits, certain imperious qualities. So fora moment or two she stood thinking.
An automobile from the village went by them and proceeded to the house.It contained Mrs. Dan and Mrs. Clarence returning from the telegraphoffice, but Bob hardly saw it, or was aware who were its occupants. MissGerald absorbed him to the exclusion of all else now. He had no mind forother storms that might be gathering. Suddenly the girl turned on himwith abrupt swiftness.