CHAPTER VIII--NEW COMPLICATIONS
"Is your father's embarrassment serious?" she asked.
Bob looked startled. He didn't like the way she had shifted theconversation. "Pretty bad," he answered.
"I believe, though, it's customary for men on the 'street' not to stay'downed,' as they say?"
"Don't know as it's an invariable rule," returned Bob evasively. Thenrealizing it wouldn't do to be evasive: "As a matter of fact, I don'tbelieve I'm very well posted as to that," he added.
"What does your father say?" she asked abruptly.
Bob would much rather not have talked about that with her. But--"Dadsays there is no hope," he had to say.
Miss Gerald was silent for a moment. As a child she remembered a verygloomy period in her own father's career--when the "street" had him"cornered." She remembered the funereal atmosphere of the big oldhouse--the depression on nearly every one's face--how everything hadseemed permeated with impending tragedy. She remembered how her fatherlooked at her, a great gloomy ghost of himself with somber burning eyes.She remembered how seared and seamed his strong and massive face hadbecome in but a few days. But that was long ago and he had long sinceleft her for good. The vivid impression, however, of that gloomy periodduring her childhood remained with her. It had always haunted her,though her father had not been "downed" in the end. He had emerged fromthe storm stronger than ever.
The girl shot a sidewise look at Bob, standing now with his arms foldedlike Hamlet. Perhaps he had come from such a funereal house as she,herself, so well remembered? Had dad's trouble, or tragedy, weighed onhim unduly? Had it made him--for the moment--just slightlyirresponsible? Miss Gerald, as has been intimated, had frankly liked Bobas an outdoor companion, or an indoor one, too, sometimes, for thatmatter. He was one of the few men, for example, she would "trot" with.He could "trot" in an eminently respectful manner, being possessed of aninnate refinement, or chivalry, which certainly seemed good to her,after some of those other wild Terpsichorean performances of myriadmasculine manikins in the mad world of Milliondom.
"I suppose your father has taken his trouble much to heart?" Miss Geraldnow observed.
"Not a bit."
"No?" In surprise.
"No."
"Why not?"
"Said he looked to me to keep him in affluence the rest of his days."
"To you?"
"That's right."
"But how?--What are you going to do?"
"Hustle."
"At what?"
"Don't know. Got to find out."
"What did you plan doing, when at college?"
"Nothing."
"Is it"--Miss Gerald got back to where she had been before--"the senseof awful responsibility," with slight sarcasm, "that has turned yourbrain?"
"I'm not crazy."
"No?" She remembered that most people in asylums say that.
"Though I may be in a matter of three weeks," Bob added, more to himselfthan to her.
"Why three weeks?"
"Well, if I don't--just shouldn't happen to go crazy during that time,I'll be all right, after that."
"Why do you allow a specified period for your mental deterioration?"
"_I_ didn't allow it."
"Who did?"
"Can't tell you."
Miss Gerald pondered on this answer. It would seem as if Bob had"hallucinations," if nothing worse. He was possessed of the idea, nodoubt, that he would go crazy within three weeks. He didn't realize thatthe "deterioration," she referred to, might have already begun. Helooked normal enough, though, had the most normal-looking eyes. Could itbe that he was acting? And if he was acting, why was he? That seemedincomprehensible. Anyhow, it couldn't be a sense of responsibility thathad "upset" Bob. She became sure of that now. He played a losing gamewith too much dash and brilliancy! Hadn't she seen him at polo--hadn'tshe held her breath and thrilled when he had "sailed in" and withirresistible vim snatched victory out of defeat? No; Bob wasn't a"quitter."
"So your father looks to you to support him?"
"So he said. The governor's a bit of a joker though, you know. He may beonly putting up a bluff to try me out."
"What did he advise you to do?"
Bob shivered. "Matrimonial market."
"You mean--?"
"Heiress." Succinctly.
"Any particular one?"
"Dad did mention a name."
"Not--?" She looked at him.
"Yes."
An awful pause.
"Now you know why I didn't want to see you," said Bob, in that evenfatalistic voice. "First place, I wouldn't ask you to marry me, if youwere the last girl in the world! Second place, I was afraid if I sawyou, some of these things dad said to try me, would be bound to pop out.You mustn't think badly of dad, Miss Gerald. As I've said, he didn'tmean a word of it. He was only sizing me up. Don't I know that twinklein his eye? Just wanted to see if I'm as lazy and good-for-nothing assome chaps brought up with the silver spoon. Why, he'd--honestly, dadwould just kick me, if I took his advice. Why, if I went back hometo-morrow," went on Bob, warming to the subject, "and told him we wereengaged"--the girl moved slightly--"and were going to be married rightoff"--the girl moved again--"why--why, old as I am, dad would take offhis coat and give me a good trouncing. That's the kind of a man dad is.I see it all now."
He really believed he did--and for the first time. He felt he had solvedthe mystery of dad's manner and conduct. It _had_ been a mystery, butthe solution had come to him like an inspiration. Dad wanted to seewhether he would arise to the occasion. He had told him he didn'tbelieve he was worth his salt just to see his backbone stiffen. He hadalluded to that other way of repairing the "busted family credit" justto observe the effect on Bob. And how dad must have chuckled inwardly atBob's response! Why, they'd almost had a scene, he and good old dad. Bobcould smile at it now--if he could smile at anything. He certainly hadbeen a numskull. Dad, pulling in fish somewhere, was probably stillchuckling to himself, and wondering how Bob would work out the problem.
"Dad was always just like that when I was a boy," he confided to MissGerald, now standing more than ever like a marble lady in the moonlight."He would propose the contrariest things! Always trying and testing me.Guess that's why he acted so happy when he went broke. Thought it wouldmake a man of me! By jove, that's it! Why, he was as care-free as a boywith a new top!"
"Was he, indeed?" said Miss Gerald, studying Mr. Robert Bennett witheyes that looked very deep now, beneath the imperious brows. "How nice!"Oh, that tone was distant. It might have been wafted from one who stoodon an iceberg.
"Isn't it?" Bob heaved a sigh. "I'm not afraid of you any more," hesaid, "now that I've got that off my chest."
Again Miss Gerald shivered slightly, but whether at the slang or not,was not apparent.
"You can't frighten me any more," said Bob.
"But why," said Miss Gerald, "did you tell me, at all, of dad's--as youcall him--charming suggestion?"
"Had to. Didn't you ask me?" In faint surprise. Then he remembered shedidn't know he _had_ to tell the truth. That made him look ratherfoolish--or "imbecile," in the light of all those other proceedings.Miss Gerald's brow contracted once more. Again she might be askingherself if Master Robert was acting? Was this but gigantic, bombastic,Quixotic "posing" after all? It was too extraordinary to speak of suchthings as he had spoken of, to her! Did he only want to appeardifferent? Did he seek to combine Apollo with Bernard Shaw in hisattitude toward society? Or had he been reading Chesterton and was hebut striving to present in his own personality a futurist's effect ofupside-downness? Miss Gerald felt now the way she had at the modernists'exhibition, when she had gazed and gazed at what was apparently a loadof wood falling down-stairs, and some one had told her to find the lady.It was about as difficult to-night to find the real Mr. Bennett--thehappy-go-lucky Bob Bennett of last month or last week--as it had been tofind that lady where appeared only chaotic kindling wood.
Miss Gerald let the cool
air fan her brow for a few moments. This youngman was, at least, exhilarating. She felt a little dizzy. Meanwhile Boblooked at her with that sad silly smile.
"You can't ask me any questions that will disconcert me now," heboasted.
Miss Gerald looked at him squarely. "Will you marry me?" she said.
It was a coup. Her father had been capable of just such coups as that.He would hit the enemy in the most unexpected manner in the mostunexpected quarter, and thus overwhelm his foes. Miss Gerald might notmean it; she, most likely, only said it. Under the circumstances, to getat the truth herself, she was justified in saying almost anything. If hewere but posing, she would prick the bubble of his pretense. If thosegrandiloquent, and, to her, totally unnecessary protestations didn'tmean anything, she wished to know it. He would never, never marryher,--wouldn't he? Or, possibly, her question was but part of a plan, orgeneral campaign, on her part, to test his sanity? Six persons--realcompetents, too!--had affirmed that he wasn't "just right." Be that asit may, Miss Gerald dropped this bomb in Master Bob's camp and waitedthe effect with mien serene.
Her query worked the expected havoc, all right. Bob's jaw fell. Then hiseyes began to flash with a new fierce love-light. He couldn't help it.Marry her?--Great Scott!--She, asking him, if he would? He felt hispulses beating faster and the blood pumping in his veins. His arms wentout--very eager, strong, primitive arms they looked--that cave-man kind!Arms that seize resistless maidens and enfold them, willy-nilly! MissGerald really should have felt much alarmed, especially as there was somuch doubt as to Bob's sanity. It's bad enough to be alone with anordinary crazy man, but a crazy man who is in love with one? That iscalculated to be a rather unusual and thrilling experience.
However, though Miss Gerald may have entertained a few secret fears andpossible regrets for her own somewhat mad precipitancy, she managed tomaintain a fair semblance of composure. She had the courage to "standby" the coup. She was like a tall lily that seems to hold itselfunafraid before the breaking of the tempest. She did not even draw back,though she threw her head back slightly. And in her eyes was achallenge. Not a love challenge, though Bob could not discern that! Hisown gaze was too blurred.
Miss Gerald suddenly drew in her breath quickly, as one who felt shewould need her courage now. Almost had Bob, in that moment offorgetfulness, drawn her into his arms and so completed the paradoxicalpicture of himself, when the impulse was abruptly arrested. He seemedsuddenly to awaken to a saner comprehension of the requirements of themoment. His arms fell to his side.
"That's a joke, of course," he said hoarsely.
"And if it wasn't?" she challenged him. There was mockery now in hereyes, and her figure had relaxed.
"You affirm it isn't?"
"I said _if_ it wasn't?"
"I guess you win," said Bob wearily. These extremes of emotion werewearing on the system.
"You mean you wouldn't, even if I had really, actually--?"
"I mean you certainly do know how to 'even up' with a chap. When hedoesn't dare dream of heaven, you suddenly pretend to fling open thegolden gates and invite him to enter."
"Like St. Peter," said the girl.
"Ah, you _are_ laughing," said Bob bitterly, and dropped his head. Herassurance was regal. "As if it wasn't hard enough, anyway, to get youout of my darn-fool head," he murmured reproachfully.
"Then you reject me?" said the girl, moving toward the entrance. "Good!I mean, bad! So humiliating to have been rejected! Good night, Mr.Bennett. No--it isn't necessary for you to accompany me to the house. Ireally couldn't think of troubling you after your unkind refusal to--"
Bob groaned. "I say, there is always your aunt, you know, who can ask meto vacate the--" he called out.
"I'll think about it," said the lady. A faint perfume was wafted pasthim and the vision vanished. Bob sank down on the cold marble seat.
* * * * *
He remained thus for some time, oblivious to the world, when anothercar, en route from the village to the house, purred past him, spittingviciously, however, between purrs. Bob didn't even look around.Spit!--spit!--purr!--purr!--Its two lights were like the eyes of somemonster pussy-cat, on the war-path for trouble. Spit!--it seemed in ahorribly vicious mood. More "spits" than "purrs," now! Then the carstopped, though it was some distance from the house.
"Curse this old rattletrap!" said a man's voice.
"Oh, I guess no one'll pay any attention to it," spoke another occupant."Besides, it was the only one to be had at the station, and we had toget here quick."
"You bet! The quicker, the better," observed a third man.
They all got out, not far from where Bob sat in the dark gazing into avoid, but he did not notice. Cars might come, and cars might go, for allof him. He was dimly aware of the sound of voices but he had no interestin guests, newly-arrived or otherwise. One of the trio paid the driverof the car and it purred back, somewhat less viciously, from whence itcame.
"Better separate when we get near the house and approach it carefully,"said the first speaker in low tense tones. "We've got to get hold of himwithout anybody knowing it."
"That's right. Wouldn't do to let _them_"--with significantaccent--"know what we've come for," said the second man. The trio werequite out of ear-shot of Bob, by now.
"Hope it'll turn out all right," spoke the third anxiously. "Why, inheaven's name, didn't we think of this in the first place?"
"Can't think of every contingency!" answered the first speakerviciously. "Our plan now is to get hold of one of the servants. A nicefat tip, and then--Come on! No time to waste!"
As they made their way up the driveway to the house Bob looked drearilyaround. His eyes noted and mechanically followed the trio of dark forms.He saw them stop near the house; then he observed one approach a sidewindow and peer in. A moment later another approached another window andpeered in.
"That's funny!" thought Bob, without any particular emotion. At the sametime, he recalled that a band of burglars had been going about, lootingcountry-houses. Perhaps these fellows were after a few hundred thousanddollars' worth of jewels? There might be half a million dollars' worthof jewelry sprinkled about among Mrs. Ralston's guests. But what did itmatter? The presence of these intruders seemed too trifling a matter tothink about now, and Bob sank into another reverie.
How long he remained thus, he did not know. The laughter and talk of anumber of guests, coming out the front way (end of a "trot," probably)aroused him and Bob got up.
As he did so, he fancied he saw again the three men he had noticed, thenforgotten, slip around toward the back of the house. Throughout thegardens, the moonlight made clear spots on the ground where the brightrays sifted through the foliage or shone down between the trees, andthey had to skip across one of these bright places to get aroundsomewhere behind the big mansion. Undoubtedly, the appearance from thehouse of the guests who wanted to cool off had startled the intrudersand inspired a desire to make themselves less conspicuous for the timebeing. Bob entertained a vague impression that the conduct of the triowas rather crude and amateurish, though that didn't worry him. He didn'tcare whether they were full-fledged yeggmen of the smoothest class, oronly bungling artists, a discredit to their profession. He dismissedconsideration of them as quickly again as he had done before.
A yawn escaped his lips, and it rather surprised him that abroken-hearted man could yawn. He looked at his watch, holding it in themoonlight, and saw that it was late enough now so that he could retireif he wished, without violating, to any great degree, thateven-tenor-of-his-way clause. Accordingly Bob got up and walked towardthe house. A side door was open and he went in that way and up to hisroom. He was glad he didn't encounter any one--that is, any one he hadto speak to. The monocle-man drifted by him somewhere, but Bob didn'thave to pay much attention to him. He could imagine the superior way inwhich the Britisher had informed Miss Gerald that he found him (Bob) an"interesting young man." The monocle-man and the bishop seemed to agreeon that point.
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Undressing hastily, Bob flung himself into bed. He had gone through somuch he was tired and scarcely had he touched the sheets when thewelcoming arms of Morpheus claimed him. His sleep was sound--very sound!In fact, it was so sound that something occurred and he didn't know it.It occurred again--several times--and still he did not know it. Anotherinterval!--a long one! Bob yet slept the sleep of the overwrought. Hisfagged brain was trying to readjust itself. He could have slept rightthrough to the dawn, but this was not to be. Long before the glowing godmade its appearance in the east, Bob was rudely yanked from the arms ofMorpheus.