CHAPTER VII
AN UNUSUAL GIRL
The girl was without wraps, her dress of some light, fleecy materialfitting her slender figure exquisitely, her head uncovered; within hereyes Brant imagined he could detect the glint of tears. She spokefirst, her voice faltering slightly.
"Will you kindly permit me to pass?"
He stepped instantly to one side, bowing as he did so.
"I beg your pardon for such seeming rudeness," he said, gravely. "Ihave been seeking you all the evening, yet this unexpected meetingcaught me quite unawares."
"You have been seeking me? That is strange. For what reason, pray?"
"To achieve what you were once kind enough to suggest as possible--theformality of an introduction. It would seem, however, that fate makesour meetings informal."
"That is your fault, not mine."
"I gladly assume all responsibility, if you will only waive theformality and accept my friendship."
Her face seemed to lighten, while her lips twitched as if suppressing asmile. "You are very forgetful. Did I not tell you that wePresbyterians are never guilty of such indiscretions?"
"I believe you did, but I doubt your complete surrender to the creed."
"Doubt! Only our second time of meeting, and you already venture todoubt! This can scarcely be construed into a compliment, I fear."
"Yet to my mind it may prove the very highest type of compliment," hereturned, reassured by her manner. "For a certain degree ofindependence in both thought and action is highly commendable. Indeed,I am going to be bold enough to add that it was these very attributesthat awakened my interest in you."
"Oh, indeed; you cause me to blush already. My frankness, I fear, bidsfair to cost me all my friends, and I may even go beyond your pardon,if the perverse spirit of my nature so move me."
"The risk of such a catastrophe is mine, and I would gladly dare thatmuch to get away from conventional commonplace. One advantage of suchmeetings as ours is an immediate insight into each other's deepernature. For one I shall sincerely rejoice if you will permit the goodfortune of our chance meeting to be alone sponsor for our futurefriendship. Will you not say yes?"
She looked at him with greater earnestness, her young face sobered bythe words spoken. Whatever else she may have seen revealed there, thecountenance bending slightly toward her was a serious, manly one,inspiring respect, awakening confidence.
"And I do agree," she said, extending her hand in a girlish impulse."It will, at least, be a new experience and therefore worth the trial.I will even endeavor to restrain my rebellious spirit, so that you willnot be unduly shocked."
He laughed, now placed entirely at his ease. "Your need of mercy isappreciated, fair lady. Is it your desire to return to the hall?"
She shook her head positively. "A cheap, gaudy show, all bluster andvulgarity. Even the dancing is a mere parody. I early tired of it."
"Then let us choose the better part, and sit here on the bench, thenight our own."
He conducted her across the porch to the darkest corner, where onlyrifts of light stole trembling in between the shadowing vines, andthere found convenient seats. A moment they remained in silence, andhe could hear her breathing.
"Have you truly been at the hall," she questioned, "or were you merelyfibbing to awaken my interest?"
"I truly have been," he answered, "and actually have danced a measurewith the fair guest of the evening."
"With Phoebe Spencer! And yet you dare pretend now to retain aninterest in me? Lieutenant Brant, you must be a most talenteddeceiver, or else the strangest person I ever met. Such a miracle hasnever occurred before!"
"Well, it has certainly occurred now; nor am I in this any vaindeceiver. I truly met Miss Spencer. I was the recipient of her mostentrancing smiles; I listened to her modulated voice; I bore her off, awilling captive, from a throng of despairing admirers; I danced withher, gazing down into her eyes, with her fluffy hair brushing my cheek,yet resisted all her charms and came forth thinking only of you."
"Indeed? Your proof?"
He drew the white satin fan forth from his pocket, and held it outtoward her with mock humility. "This, unbelieving princess.Despatched by the fair lady in question to fetch this bauble from thedressing-room, I forgot my urgent errand in the sudden delight offinding you."
"The case seems fully proved," she confessed, laughingly, "and it issurely not my duty to punish the culprit. What did you talk about?But, pshaw, I know well enough without asking--she told you how greatlyshe admired the romance of the West, and begged you to call upon herwith a recital of your own exploits. Have I not guessed aright?"
"Partially, at least; some such expressions were used."
"Of course, they always are. I do not know whether they form merely apart of her stock in trade, or are spoken earnestly. You would laughto hear the tales of wild and thrilling adventure which she picks up,and actually believes. That Jack Moffat possesses the most marvellousimagination for such things, and if I make fun of his impossiblestories she becomes angry in an instant."
"I am afraid you do not greatly admire this Miss Spencer?"
"Oh, but I do; truly I do. You must not think me ungrateful. No onehas ever helped me more, and beneath this mask of artificiality she isreally a noble-hearted woman. I do not understand the necessity forpeople to lead false lives. Is it this way in all society--Easternsociety, I mean? Do men and women there continually scheme and flirt,smile and stab, forever assuming parts like so many play-actors?"
"It is far too common," he admitted, touched by her naive questioning."What is known as fashionable social life has become an almost pitifulsham, and you can scarcely conceive the relief it is to meet with oneutterly uncontaminated by its miserable deceits, its shallowmake-believes. It is no wonder you shock the nerves of such people;the deed is easily accomplished."
"But I do not mean to." And she looked at him gravely, striving tomake him comprehend. "I try so hard to be--be commonplace, and--andsatisfied. Only there is so much that seems silly, useless, pitifullycontemptible that I lose all patience. Perhaps I need proper trainingin what Miss Spencer calls refinement; but why should I pretend to likewhat I don't like, and to believe what I don't believe? Cannot one acta lie as well as speak one? And is it no longer right to search afterthe truth?"
"I have always felt it was our duty to discover the truth whereverpossible," he said, thoughtfully; "yet, I confess, the search is notfashionable, nor the earnest seeker popular."
A little trill of laughter flowed from between her parted lips, but thesound was not altogether merry.
"Most certainly I am not. They all scold me, and repeat with manifesthorror the terrible things I say, being unconscious that they are evil.Why should I suspect thoughts that come to me naturally? I want toknow, to understand. I grope about in the dark. It seems to mesometimes that this whole world is a mystery. I go to Mr. Wynkoop withmy questions, and they only seem to shock him. Why should they? Godmust have put all these doubts and wonderings into my mind, and theremust be an answer for them somewhere. Mr. Wynkoop is a good man, Itruly respect him. I want to please him, and I admire his intellectualattainments; but how can he accept so much on faith, and be content?Do you really suppose he is content? Don't you think he ever questionsas I do? or has he actually succeeded in smothering every doubt? Hecannot answer what I ask him; he cannot make things clear. He justpulls up a few, cheap, homely weeds,--useless common things,--when Ibeg for flowers; he hands them to me, and bids me seek greater faiththrough prayer. I know I am a perfect heathen,--Miss Spencer says Iam,--but do you think it is so awful for me to want to know thesethings?"
He permitted his hand to drop upon hers, and she made no motion ofdispleasure.
"You merely express clearly what thousands feel without the moralcourage to utter it. The saddest part of it all is, the deeper wedelve the less we are satisfied in our intellectual natures. We merelysucceed in learning that we are the ver
iest pygmies. Men like Mr.Wynkoop are simply driven back upon faith as a last resort, absolutelybaffled by an inpenetrable wall, against which they batter mentally invain. They have striven with mystery, only to meet with ignominiousdefeat. Faith alone remains, and I dare not deny that such faith isabove all knowledge. The pity of it is, there are some minds to whomthis refuge is impossible. They are forever doomed to be hungry andremain unfed; thirsty, yet unable to quench their thirst."
"Are you a church member?"
"Yes."
"Do you believe those things you do not understand?"
He drew a deep breath, scarcely knowing at that moment how best toanswer, yet sincerely anxious to lead this girl toward the light.
"The majority of men do not talk much about such matters. They holdthem sacred. Yet I will speak frankly with you. I could not state inwords my faith so that it would be clearly apprehended by the mind ofanother. I am in the church because I believe its efforts are towardrighteousness, because I believe the teachings of Christ are perfect.His life the highest possible type of living, and because through Himwe receive all the information regarding a future existence which wepossess. That my mind rests satisfied I do not say; I simply acceptwhat is given, preferring a little light to total darkness."
"But here they refuse to accept any one like that. They say I am notyet in a fit state of mind."
"Such a judgment would seem to me narrow. I was fortunate in comingunder the influence of a broad-minded religious teacher. To mystatement of doubts he simply said: 'Believe what you can; live thevery best you can, and keep your mind open toward the light.' It seemsto me now this is all that anyone can do whose nature will not permitof blind, unquestioning faith. To require more of ordinary humanbeings is unreasonable, for God gave us mind and ability to think."
There was a pause, so breathless they could hear the rustle of theleaves in the almost motionless air, while the strains of gay musicfloating from the open windows sounded loud and strident.
"I am so glad you have spoken in that way," she confessed. "I shallnever feel quite so much alone in the world again, and I shall seethese matters from a different viewpoint. Is it wrong--unwomanly, Imean--for me to question spiritual things?"
"I am unable to conceive why it should be. Surely woman ought to be asdeeply concerned in things spiritual as man."
"How very strange it is that we should thus drift into such an intimatetalk at our second meeting!" she exclaimed. "But it seems so easy, sonatural, to converse frankly with some people--they appear to draw outall that is best in one's heart. Then there are others who seem toparch and wither up every germ of spiritual life."
"There are those in the world who truly belong together," he urged,daringly. "They belong to each other by some divine law. They maynever be privileged to meet; but if they do, the commingling of theirminds and souls is natural. This talk of ours to-night has, perhaps,done me as much good as you."
"Oh, I am so glad if it has! I--I do not believe you and Miss Spencerconversed in this way?"
"Heaven forbid! And yet it might puzzle you to guess what was the maintopic of our conversation."
"Did it interest you?"
"Deeply."
"Well, then, it could not be dress, or men, or Western romance, orsociety in Boston, or the beautiful weather. I guess it was books."
"Wrong; they were never mentioned."
"Then I shall have to give up, for I do not remember any other subjectsshe talks about."
"Yet it was the most natural topic imaginable--yourself."
"You were discussing me? Why, how did that happen?"
"Very simply, and I was wholly to blame. To be perfectly honest, MissNaida, I attended the dance to-night for no other object than to meetyou again. But I had argued myself into the belief that you were MissSpencer. The discovery of my mistake merely intensified mydetermination to learn who you really were. With this purpose, Iinterviewed Miss Spencer, and during the course of our conversation thefacts of my first meeting with you became known."
"You told her how very foolish I acted?"
"I told her how deeply interested I had become in your outspokenmanner."
"Oh! And she exclaimed, 'How romantic!'"
"Possibly; she likewise took occasion to suggest that you were merely achild, and seemed astonished that I should have given you a secondthought."
"Why, I am eighteen."
"I told her I believed you to be of that age, and she ignored myremark. But what truly surprised both of us was, how you happened toknow my name."
The girl did not attempt to answer, and she was thankful enough thatthere was not sufficient light to betray the reddening of her cheeks.
"And you do not mean, even now, to make clear the mystery?" he asked.
"Not--now," she answered, almost timidly. "It is nothing much, only Iwould rather not now."
The sudden sound of voices and laughter in the street beneath broughtthem both to their feet.
"Why, they are coming across to supper," she exclaimed, in surprise."How long we have been here, and it has seemed scarcely a moment! Ishall certainly be in for a scolding, Lieutenant Brant; and I fear youronly means of saving me from being promptly sent home in disgrace willbe to escort me in to supper."
"A delightful punishment!" He drew her hand through his arm, and said:"And then you will pledge me the first dance following?"
"Oh, you must n't ask me. Really, I have not been on the floorto-night; I am not in the mood."
"Do you yield to moods?"
"Why, of course I do. Is it not a woman's privilege? If you know melong it will be to find me all moods."
"If they only prove as attractive as the particular one swaying youto-night, I shall certainly have no cause for complaint. Come, MissNaida, please cultivate the mood to say yes, before those othersarrive."
She glanced up at him, shaking her dark hair, her lips smiling. "Mypresent mood is certainly a good-natured one," she confessed, softly,"and consequently it is impossible to say no."
His hand pressed hers, as the thronging couples came merrily up thesteps.
"Why, Naida, is this you, child? Where have you been all this time?"It was Miss Spencer, clinging to Mr. Wynkoop's arm.
"Merely sitting out a dance," was the seemingly indifferent answer;then she added sweetly, "Have you ever met my friend, Lieutenant Brant,of the Seventh Cavalry, Phoebe? We were just going in to supper."
Miss Spencer's glance swept over the silent young officer. "I believeI have had the honor. It was my privilege to be introduced to thegentleman by a mutual friend."
The inward rush of hungry guests swept them all forward in laughing,jostling confusion; but Naida's cheeks burned with indignation.