andpurpose, and then stand aside to let somebody else run it for him. Thereain't no man livin' ez hez, so to speak, more fast horses ready saddledfor riding, and more fast men ready spurred to ride 'em,--whether to winhis races or run his errands. There ain't no man livin' ez knows betterhow to make other men's games his, or his game seem to be other men's.And from Jack Somers smilin' over there, ez knows where to get the bestwine that Bob pays for, and knows how to run this yer show for Bob,at Bob's expense--we're all contented. Ladies and gentlemen, we're allcontented. We stand, so to speak, on the cards he's dealt us. What maybe his little game, it ain't for us to say; but whatever it is, WE'RE INIT. Gentlemen and ladies, we'll drink Bob's health!"
There was a somewhat sensational pause, followed by good-naturedlaughter and applause, in which Somers joined; yet not without a certainconstraint that did not escape the quick sympathy of the shocked andunsmiling Miss Nevil. It was with a feeling of relief that she caughtthe chaperoning eye of Mrs. Leyton, who was entreating her in the usualmysterious signal to the other ladies to rise and follow her. When shereached the drawing-room, a little behind the others, she was somewhatsurprised to observe that the stranger whom she had missed during theevening was approaching her with Mrs. Leyton.
"Mr. Rushbrook returned sooner than he expected, but unfortunately,as he always retires early, he has only time to say 'goodnight' to youbefore he goes."
For an instant Grace Nevil was more angry than disconcerted. Then camethe conviction that she was stupid not to have suspected the truthbefore. Who else would that brusque stranger develop into but this rudehost? She bowed formally.
Mr. Rushbrook looked at her with the faintest smile on his handsomemouth. "Well, Miss Nevil, I hope Jack Somers satisfied your curiosity?"
With a sudden recollection of the Siskyou gentleman's speech, and aswift suspicion that in some way she had been made use of with theothers by this forceful-looking man before her, she answered pertly:--
"Yes; but there was a speech by a gentleman from Siskyou that struck meas being nearer to the purpose."
"That's so,--I heard it as I came in," said Mr. Rushbrook, calmly. "Idon't know but you're right."
CHAPTER IV
Six months had passed. The Villa of Maecenas was closed at Los OsosCanyon, and the southwest trade-winds were slanting the rains of the wetseason against its shut windows and barred doors. Within that hollow,deserted shell, its aspect--save for a single exception--was unchanged;the furniture and decorations preserved their eternal youth undimmedby time; the rigidly-arranged rooms, now closed to life and light,developed more than ever their resemblance to a furniture warehouse.The single exception was the room which Grace Nevil had rearranged forherself; and that, oddly enough, was stripped and bare--even to itspaper and mouldings.
In other respects, the sealed treasures of Rushbrook's villa, far fromprovoking any sentimentality, seemed only to give truth to the currentrumor that it was merely waiting to be transformed into a gorgeouswatering-place hotel under Rushbrook's direction; that, with its newball-room changed into an elaborate dining-hall, it would undergo stillfurther improvement, the inevitable end and object of all Rushbrook'senterprise; and that its former proprietor had already begun anothervilla whose magnificence should eclipse the last. There certainlyappeared to be no limit to the millionaire's success in all that hepersonally undertook, or in his fortunate complicity with the enterpriseand invention of others. His name was associated with the oldestand safest schemes, as well as the newest and boldest--with an equalguarantee of security. A few, it was true, looked doubtingly upon this"one man power," but could not refute the fact that others had largelybenefited by association with him, and that he shared his profits witha royal hand. Some objected on higher grounds to his brutalizingthe influence of wealth by his material and extravagantly practicalprocesses, instead of the gentler suggestions of education and personalexample, and were impelled to point out the fact that he and hispatronage were vulgar. It was felt, however, by those who received hisbenefits, that a proper sense of this inferiority was all that ethicsdemanded of them. One could still accept Rushbrook's barbaric gifts byhumorously recognizing the fact that he didn't know any better, and thatit pleased him, as long as they resented any higher pretensions.
The rain-beaten windows of Rushbrook's town house, however, werecheerfully lit that December evening. Mr. Rushbrook seldom dinedalone; in fact, it was popularly alleged that very often the unfinishedbusiness of the day was concluded over his bountiful and perfect board.He was dressing as James entered the room.
"Mr. Leyton is in your study, sir; he will stay to dinner."
"All right."
"I think, sir," added James, with respectful suggestiveness, "he wantsto talk. At least, sir, he asked me if you would likely come downstairsbefore your company arrived."
"Ah! Well, tell the others I'm dining on BUSINESS, and set dinner fortwo in the blue room."
"Yes, sir."
Meanwhile, Mr. Leyton--a man of Rushbrook's age, but not so fresh andvigorous-looking--had thrown himself in a chair beside the study fire,after a glance around the handsome and familiar room. For the house hadbelonged to a brother millionaire; it had changed hands with certainshares of "Water Front,"--as some of Rushbrook's dealings had the truebarbaric absence of money detail,--and was elegantly and tastefullyfurnished. The cuckoo had, however, already laid a few characteristiceggs in this adopted nest, and a white marble statue of a nude andill-fed Virtue, sent over by Rushbrook's Paris agent, and unpackedthat morning, stood in one corner, and materially brought down thetemperature. A Japanese praying-throne of pure ivory, and, above it, afew yards of improper, colored exposure by an old master, equalized eachother.
"And what is all this affair about the dinner?" suddenly asked atartly-pitched female voice with a foreign accent.
Mr. Leyton turned quickly, and was just conscious of a faint shriek, therustle of a skirt, and the swift vanishing of a woman's figure from thedoorway. Mr. Leyton turned red. Rushbrook lived en garcon, with femininepossibilities; Leyton was a married man and a deacon. The incidentwhich, to a man of the world, would have brought only a smile, fired theinexperienced Leyton with those exaggerated ideas and intense credulityregarding vice common to some very good men. He walked on tip-toe to thedoor, and peered into the passage. At that moment Rushbrook entered fromthe opposite door of the room.
"Well," said Rushbrook, with his usual practical directness, "what doyou think of her?"
Leyton, still flushed, and with eyebrows slightly knit, said, awkwardly,that he had scarcely seen her.
"She cost me already ten thousand dollars, and I suppose I'll haveto eventually fix up a separate room for her somewhere," continuedRushhrook.
"I should certainly advise it," said Leyton, quickly, "for really,Rushbrook, you know that something is due to the respectable people whocome here, and any of them are likely to see"--
"Ah!" interrupted Rushbrook, seriously, "you think she hasn't got onclothes enough. Why, look here, old man--she's one of the Virtues, andthat's the rig in which they always travel. She's a 'Temperance' or a'Charity' or a 'Resignation,' or something of that kind. You'll find hername there in French somewhere at the foot of the marble."
Leyton saw his mistake, but felt--as others sometimes felt--a doubtwhether this smileless man was not inwardly laughing at him. He replied,with a keen, rapid glance at his host:--
"I was referring to some woman who stood in that doorway just now, andaddressed me rather familiarly, thinking it was you."
"Oh, the Signora," said Rushbrook, with undisturbed directness; "well,you saw her at Los Osos last summer. Likely she DID think you were me."
The cool ignoring of any ulterior thought in Leyton's objection forcedthe guest to be equally practical in his reply.
"Yes, but the fact is that Miss Nevil had talked of coming here with methis evening to see you on her own affairs, and it wouldn't have beenexactly the thing for her to meet that woman."
"She wouldn't," said Rushbrook,
promptly; "nor would YOU, if you hadgone into the parlor as Miss Nevil would have done. But look here! Ifthat's the reason why you didn't bring her, send for her at once; mycoachman can take a card from you; the brougham's all ready to fetchher, and there you are. She'll see only you and me." He was alreadymoving towards the bell, when Leyton stopped him.
"No matter now. I can tell you her business, I fancy; and in fact, Icame here to speak of it, quite independently of her."
"That won't do, Leyton," interrupted Rushbrook, with crisp decision."One or the other interview is