Ancestors: A Novel

  XVIII

  Julia Kaye was one of those women designed by nature for the role of aValerie Marneffe, or of that astute Parisian's bourgeoise and moreromantic daughter, Emma Bovary; but tossed, in the gamble of the fates,into a setting of respectable opulence, where her instincts for preywere trimmed of their crudities, and the vehemence of her passionssubdued by the opportunity to gratify all other whims and desires.

  Her father, born in the sooty alley of a manufacturing town in the northof England, had run away to sea in his boyhood, deserted in the port ofNew York, starved, stolen, peddled, washed dishes in cheap restaurants,shovelled snow, tramped to Chicago, starved and peddled and shovelledagain, finally found a position with a firm of wholesale druggists. Heattended a night school, proved himself a lad of uncommon sharpness, andin less than a year was first packing and then dispensing drugs. Fiveyears later he was drawing a large salary, and at the age of thirty hehad opened a retail drug store of his own.

  It was during his earlier period of comparative leisure and peace ofmind that he began to test the inventive faculty that had pricked him insmall but significant ways during his boyhood. His first inventions wereof a minor importance, although they increased his income and werepermanently remunerative; but when he turned the torch of his geniusupon the fatal antipathies of vermin, his success was so deservedlyrewarded that he was a millionaire in less than three years. He returnedto England, and, avoiding the alley of inglorious memory, courted andwon the daughter of a manufacturer, his ambition driving him to compelsocial recognition in his native city. It soared no higher, but hiswife, now no longer one of a large family, but with the income of agenerous millionaire at her disposal, was open to higher promptings; andhe to conversion. They moved to London and laid their plans with someskill.

  But although London can stand a good deal in the cause of resupply andnovelty, the violence of Mrs. Tippett's accent, and the terriblesolecisms of a gentleman whose education had begun in a Lancashire alleyand finished in the business purlieus of Chicago, who had acquired theAmerican vice of brag in its acutest form, and who, when in his cups,shouted and spat and swore, were more than the most enterprising amongthem had been called upon to endure. The social ambitions of theTippetts were so definitely quenched that the indignant millionairethreatened to return to Chicago. But Mrs. Tippett moved him firmly toBrighton, where, in the course of time, she toned him down. They madetheir way slowly into society of a sort, and attracted the attention ofthe public. There was no law to prevent them from dining at thefashionable hotels, where Paris gowns could not pass unobserved; andtheir turnouts were irreproachable.

  Mrs. Tippet, an astute woman, by this time had realized that hers wasnot the destiny of the social star, and she concentrated her hopes andambitions upon her one child, an uncommonly clever little girl. Thischild grew up in a luxury that would have stifled even her precociousmind had it not been for the rigid laws of the school-room. Hergovernesses and tutors were selected with a sharp eye to the number oftitles in their reference-books, but dismissed promptly if they wereunworthy of their hire. Later, the little Julia was sent to adistinguished school near Paris, where, with an eye to her futurewell-being, remarkable in one so young, she divided her affectionateaffluence among the few whose exalted station made them worth the whileof a maiden with an indefinite future.

  These friends did not prove as useful as she had hoped. At home therewere her parents to terrify theirs, and although she visited at severalchateaux, and more than one title was laid at her gilded feet, she madeup her mind to read her name in Burke.

  She took her parents for a tour round the world with a view to polishingoff their lingering idiosyncrasies, and her chance came in India, whereshe buried them both. They succumbed to cholera, and the kindly wife ofthe viceroy, to whom she had had the forethought to secure a letter,sent for her to come to Simla and remain as her guest until she foundcourage and a chaperon for the return to England. Here she met Captain,the Honorable Augustus Kaye, heir to an ancient barony, chivalrous,impressionable, and hard-up. They were married with the blessings of oldfriends and new, and, to do her full justice, she made him a good wifeaccording to her lights. She was quite insanely in love with him atfirst, for he looked like one of Ouida's guardsmen, and his pedigree wasso long, and so varied with romantic historic episode, that she wasfully a week committing it to memory.

  When he left the army and they had returned to England--via Paris--shehad the wardrobe and establishment of a princess, the right to dine atthe Queen's table, and not a relative in London. She was immoderatelyhappy, and during the five years of her wedded life she exhausted thefirst strength of her affections, buried her feminine caprice, andwhatever of impulse youth may have clung to as its right. When GussyKaye died, the predominant feeling in her bosom was rage at hisinconsiderateness in leaving the world before his father, and nothingbehind him but a courtesy prefix which she could not even use on hercards.

  She opened her soul to searching, and decided that five years of lovewere quite enough for any woman, and that her attentions hereaftershould be directed towards the highest worldly success obtainable withbrains, talents, and wealth. To be merely a rich woman in the right setdid not come within measurable distance of her ambition's apex, and shedetermined to gratify her passionate self-love by becoming apersonality.

  She had long since simulated the repose of the high-born Englishwoman,until, like all imitators, she far surpassed her models, and her mannerswere marked not so much by the caste of Vere de Vere as by an almostnegative stolidity. This at least provided her with an unruffled frontfor trying occasions--others besides the Arcots were insensible of herofferings--which in the United States of America would have beenadmiringly characterized as "nerve." This manner became solidified afterher popular husband's death, and if it was generally referred to as"aplomb" or "poise," allowances must be made for the poverty of theaverage vocabulary.

  It is not difficult for a clever, handsome, correct, and wealthy womanto reach and hold a distinctive position even in London, that world'sheadquarters of individualities. In addition to a judiciously lavishhospitality, it is only necessary to personalize intelligently, and thisMrs. Kaye did with an industry that would have carried her to greatnesshad she been granted a spark of the divine fire. She cultivated thegreat and the fashionable in art, letters, and the drama, mixed themtactfully with her titles, attended the banquets of the ruling class inBohemia attired flatteringly in her best, and founded a society for thestudy of Leonardo da Vinci. She became intimate with several royalladies, who were charmed with her endless power to amuse them and hermagnificent patronage of their charities; and she formed close relationswith other dames but a degree less exalted, and generally morediscriminating. She cultivated a witty habit of speech, the society ofcabinet ministers, and her _chef_ was a celebrity. Her gowns would havebeen notable in New York, and she was wise enough to avoid eccentricityand openly to regard all forms of sensationalism with a haughty disdain.

  Her attitude to men was equally well-advised. Detrimentals andineligibles never so much as came up for inspection; she had afar-reaching sense of selection and a proper notion of the value oftime. Therefore, the many that had the run of her luxurious mansioncontributed personally to her prestige, and she flattered herself thather particular band was little less distinguished than the RoyalHousehold. And they invariably found her witty, entertaining, or, likeMadame Recamier, ready to listen "avec seduction." Her knowledge ofpolitics was practically unbounded.

  In such moments as she happened to be alone with any of her swains, shebecame distractingly personal, inviting, gently repelling, affordeddazzling glimpses of possibilities awaiting time and the man: soaccomplishing the double purpose of agreeably titillating her own depthsand wearing the halo of a well-behaved Circe. Altogether her success waswhat it always must be when brains and ambition, money and a cold heartare allied; but it was small wonder if the head of the daughter of theHouse of Tippett was a trifle turned and certain of her perception
s wereblunted.

  Although ofttimes large with complacency, she by no means lost sight ofher original purpose to wed a coronet, and if she endured four years ofwidowhood it was merely because she knew that she could afford to waitfor transcendence. This she had finally run to earth in Lord Brathland,imminent heir to a dukedom, and personally more agreeable to her thanany man in London. That he was notoriously inconstant but added zest tothe chase, and it was, perhaps, the illusion she at times achieved of acertain resemblance to the ladies of his preference that finallyovercame his intense aversion from respectability. He had offeredhimself to her on the day of his undoing.

  This was the woman with whom Elton Gwynne was infatuated at the mostcritical moment of his career. Of her profound aybsses he suspectednothing. She reigned in his imagination as the unique woman in whomintellect and passion, tenderness and all the social graces united in anexquisite harmony. There had been a time when, dazzled by the brilliancyof his ascending star, and Brathland being but a name to her, she hadconsidered marriage with a man who assuredly would be the next leader ofa Liberal House, and was no less certain of being prime-minister. Shewas under no delusion that she could one day induce him to accept apeerage, but she was reasonably sure that Zeal would not marry again,and there were times when the heir looked so ill that she tightened herbonds about the heir-presumptive, while assuring him that she was toomuch in love with liberty to think of marriage. Even when Zeal came backfrom Norway or Sorrento looking almost well, she never permitted Gwynneto escape, to see so much as a corner of her ego that might disturb theimage of herself she had created in his mind; and when she met Brathlandand her senses swam with the subtle scent of strawberry leaves, she sawno reason for losing the stimulating society and flattering attentionsof the brightest star in the political firmament. Therefore, when he wasready to hand, in the crushing hour of her riven ambitions, and his ownof serenest effulgence, she promptly reflected that the distance betweena marquisate and a dukedom was quickly traversed by a powerfulstatesman. Meanwhile, although Elton Gwynne would no doubt be a hideoustrial as a husband, his wife's position, supported by a million in thefunds and another in Chicago, would be one of the most brilliant inEngland. And she too had seen Lord Zeal in Piccadilly on Saturday.