The Coast of Adventure

  CHAPTER XVIII

  THE TEST OF LOVE

  The hot summer day was over and the light beginning to fade when Evelyncame down the steps of a country house in northern Maine. Banner's Poststood at the foot of a hillside among the dark pines, and the murmur ofrunning water echoed about its walls. It belonged to Mrs. Willans, Mrs.Cliffe's sister, for Willans, who had bought the house at his wife'scommand, seldom came there and did not count. Mrs. Willans wanted apeaceful retreat where she and her friends, when jaded by socialactivities, could rest and recuperate in the silence of the woods. Shehad many interests and what she called duties, but she had of late feltcalled upon, with her sister's full approval, to arrange a suitablemarriage for her niece. Henry Cliffe was not really rich.

  Evelyn was dressed in the latest summer fashion, and the thin, lightclothes became her. The keen mountain breezes had given her a finecolor, and she looked very fresh and young by contrast with the jadedbusiness man at her side. Cliffe wore an old gray suit that Evelyn hadnever seen and shabby leggings. A creel hung round his shoulders, and hecarried a fishing-rod. His face was lined and pale, but when they leftthe garden and entered the woods Evelyn was surprised to note that histhin figure harmonized with the scattered boulders and the ragged pines.To some extent, this might be accounted for by the neutral tint of hisclothes, but he somehow looked at home in the wilderness. Though he hadonce or twice gone off with an old friend on a shooting trip, she hadnever thought of her father as a sport.

  "It is curious that you make me feel you belong to the bush," she said.

  "I used to go fishing when I was a boy," Cliffe replied with adeprecatory smile. "I've never had much time for it since; but there'snothing I'm fonder of."

  Evelyn found something pathetic in his answer. He had very fewopportunities for indulging in the pastimes he liked, and now he wasgoing out to fish with a keen eagerness that showed how scarce suchpleasures were. His enjoyment was essentially natural; her friends'enthusiasm for the amusements Mrs. Willans got up was artificial andforced. They had too much, and her father not enough.

  "I hope the trout will rise well," she said. "We were surprised to hearthat you were coming down."

  "I found I could get away for the week-end. Have you been having a goodtime?"

  "Yes, in a way. I have everything I ought to like; something amusing todo from morning to night, the kind of people I've been used to about me,and Aunt Margaret sees that nobody is dull."

  She had had more than she mentioned, for Gore was staying at Banner'sPost, and had devoted himself to her entertainment with a frankassiduity that had roused the envy of other guests. Evelyn admittedfeeling flattered, for Gore had many advantages, and his markedpreference had given her an importance she had not always enjoyed.

  "And yet you're not quite satisfied?" Cliffe suggested with a shrewdglance.

  "Perhaps I'm not, but I don't know. Is one ever satisfied?"

  "One ought to be now and then when one is young. Make the most of thepleasures you can get, but aim at the best."

  Evelyn mused for a few minutes. She could treat her father withconfidence. He understood her, as her mother seldom did.

  "What is the best?" she asked.

  "To some extent, it depends on your temperament; but it goes deeper thanthat. There's success that palls and gratification that doesn't last.One soon gets old and the values of things change; you don't want tofeel, when it's too late, that there's something big and real you mighthave had and missed."

  "Have you felt this?"

  "No," Cliffe answered quietly; "I get tired of the city now and then andlong for old clothes, a boat, and a fishing-rod, but these are things itdoesn't hurt a man to go without. I have a home to rest in and a wifeand daughter to work for. An object of that kind helps you throughlife."

  "My trouble is that I don't seem to have any object at all. I used tohave a number, but I'm beginning now to doubt whether they were worthmuch. But I'm afraid you have made a sacrifice for our sakes."

  Cliffe looked at her thoughtfully.

  "My belief is that you always have to make some sacrifice for anythingthat's worth while." He laughed. "But right now fishing is more in myline than philosophy!"

  He followed the little path that led to the stream, and Evelyn turnedback slowly through the quiet woods. Her father's remarks had led herinto familiar but distasteful thought. It was perhaps true that one mustmake some sacrifice to gain what was best worth having; but she had beentaught to seize advantages and not to give things up. Now she could havewealth, a high position, and social influence, which were of value inher world, and in order to gain them she had only to overcome certainvague longings and the rebellious promptings of her heart. Gore wantedher, and she had been pleasantly thrilled to realize it; perhaps shehad, to some extent, tried to attract him. It was foolish to hesitatewhen the prize was in her reach; but she did not feel elated as she wentback to the house.

  She lingered among the last of the trees. They lifted their black spiresagainst the sky, the air was filled with their resinous scent, andfaint, elfin music fell from their tops. Far above, the bald summit ofLong Mountain shone a deep purple, though trails of mist that lookedlike lace were drawn about its shoulders. Then the pines rolled down,straggling at first, but growing thicker and taller until they mergedinto the dark forest that hid the giant's feet. The wild beauty of thescene and the calm of the evening reacted upon the girl; she felt it wasa trivial life that she and her friends led.

  Rousing herself with an effort, she left the woods and entered thewell-kept garden. It had an exotic look; the bright-colored bordersthat edged the lawn jarred upon the austere beauty of the wilderness.Banner's Post was tamely pretty, and Nature had meant the spot to begrand. Still, the nickeled sprinklers that flung glistening showersacross the smooth grass, and the big gasolene mower, belonged to herworld, in which Nature was kept in her place by civilized art.

  She saw Gore at the bottom of the steps in the midst of a group whichincluded two attractive girls, and she was conscious of somesatisfaction when he left his companions and came toward her.

  "Luck has been against me all day," he said when he came up. "It seemedimpossible to find you except in the center of what was going on. Nowwe'll run away for a little while."

  His manner suggested a right to her society, and he turned toward thewoods without waiting for her consent, but Evelyn thought he would haveacted more wisely had he chosen a quiet nook on the veranda. Reggie wasa product of his luxurious age; he was in his right place in acomfortable chair or moving gracefully about a polished floor withsmartly dressed people in the background. Though not wholly artificial,and having some force of character, he failed to harmonize with the noteof primitive grandeur struck by the rugged pines.

  It was different with Evelyn when they sat down on a boulder. Her dresswas in the latest fashion, but she had the gift of revealing somethingof her real personality through her attire. Its blue-gray tint matchedthe soft coloring of the lichened rock, and the lines of her tall figurewere marked by a classical severity of grace. Then, her eyes were graveand her face was calm. It was her misfortune that she had not yetrealized herself, but had accepted without much question the manners ofher caste and the character Mrs. Cliffe had, so to speak, superimposedupon her.

  "It's good to be quiet for a change," Gore said. "When I'm with you Ifeel that I needn't talk unless I want to. That's a relief, because it'swhen I feel least that I talk the most. You're tranquilizing."

  "I'm not sure you're complimentary. Nowadays a girl is expected to bebright if she can't be brilliant."

  "That's not your real line. Brilliance is often shallow, a cold,reflected sparkle. One has to get beneath the surface to understandyou."

  "Perhaps it's true of everybody," Evelyn answered with a smile. "Still,we're not taught to cultivate virtues that can't be seen."

  "You can't cultivate the best of them; they've got to be an inherent,natural part of you. But I'm getting off the track--I do now and then."


  Evelyn guessed what he meant to say, but although it would mark aturning-point in her life, and she did not know her answer, she was verycalm. While she had, for the most part, allowed her mother to direct heractions, she had inherited Cliffe's independence of thought and force ofwill. So far, she had not exerted them, but she meant to do so now.

  Looking up, she saw Long Mountain's towering crest cut in lonelygrandeur against the fading green and saffron of the sky. The mist uponits shoulders shone faintly white against blue shadows; the pines hadgrown taller and blacker, and the sound of running water alone broke thesilence. The resinous smells were keener, and there was a strangerepose in the long ranks of stately trees. Nature had filled the stonywilds with stern beauty, and Evelyn instinctively felt the call of thestrong, fruitful earth. One must be real and, in a sense, primitive,here.

  "This," she said, indicating the shadowy landscape, "is very grand. Wedon't give much thought to it, but it has its influence."

  "I guess it's all quite fine," Gore agreed absently. "It would make agreat summer-resort if they ran in a branch-railroad. In fact, I'veimagined that Willans had something of the kind in view; he has a geniusfor developing real estate."

  "An unthinkable desecration!" Evelyn exclaimed.

  "Well," he said in a quiet voice, "if it would please you, I'd buyBanner's Post and all the land back to the lake, and nobody but mygame-wardens should disturb it except when you let me come up here withyou. Then you could teach me to appreciate the things you like."

  The girl was touched, for he belonged to the cities, and had nothing incommon with the rocky wilds, but she knew that he would keep his wordand indulge her generously. Nor was she offended by the touch ofcommercial spirit, though she would rather he had offered something thatwould cost him effort of body or mind.

  "I'm afraid you wouldn't find me worth the sacrifice you would have tomake," she said. "Your tastes don't lie that way."

  He made a gesture of dissent.

  "None of them are very strong, and I know that you go farther ineverything than I can. You're elusive, but I've felt, for a long time,that if I could reach and win you, you'd help me along. That's mystrongest argument and what I really meant to say. Surely, you have seenthat I wanted you."

  Evelyn felt guilty, because she had seen this and had not repulsed him.She did not love the man, but love was not thought essential in hercircle and she had never been stirred by passion.

  "I felt that I couldn't get hold of you," he went on; "you were notready. We were friends and that was something, but I was looking for achange in you, some hint of warmth and gentleness."

  "And do you think I am ready now?"

  "No; I only hoped so. I feared I might be wrong. But I began to findholding myself back was getting too hard, and I was afraid somebody elsemight come along who had the power to rouse you. I believe you can beroused."

  "I wonder!" she said in a curious tone.

  "You make people love you," he broke out. "That's a proof that when thetime comes you're capable of loving. But I only ask to be near you andsurround you with what you like best. There's a rare aloofness in you,but you're flesh and blood. When you have learned how I love you, youcan't hold out."

  Evelyn was silent, hesitating, with a troubled face. She liked him; hewas such a man as her mother meant her to marry and, until the last fewweeks, she had acquiesced in her obvious fate. Now, however, somethingprompted her to rebel, although prudence and ambition urged her toyield.

  As he watched her in keen suspense, Gore suddenly lost his head. Thenext moment his arm was round her and he drew her forward until she waspressed against him with her face crushed against his. At first she didnot struggle, and he thought she was about to yield, until he felt hertremble and her face was suddenly turned away. Then she put her hand onhis shoulder and firmly held him back while she slipped from hisrelaxing grasp. Gore knew that he had blundered. Letting his arms drop,he waited until she turned to him, without anger, although her eyes werevery bright and her color was high.

  "I'm sorry, Reggie, but it's impossible for me to marry you."

  "You are sure?" he asked rather grimly. "This is important to me, youknow."

  "Yes," she said with signs of strain; "I am sure. I think I wish it hadbeen possible, but it isn't. You have convinced me."

  He was silent for a moment.

  "It cuts pretty deep," he said slowly. "I've been afraid all along thateven if you took me you'd never be really within my reach. I guess I'vegot to bear it and let you go."

  He rose and stood looking at her irresolutely, and then, with a gestureof acquiescence, abruptly turned away.

  When he had gone, Evelyn sat still in the gathering dusk. She had, atfirst, submitted to his embrace, because she wished to find in anyemotion he was capable of arousing an excuse for marrying him. But shehad felt nothing except repulsion. Then in a flash the truth was plain;any closer relationship than that of friend would make her loathe theman she in some ways admired. This was disturbing, but little by littleshe began to realize that his touch had a strange after-effect. It hadstirred her to warmth, but not toward him. Longings she had not thoughtherself capable of awoke within her; she was conscious of a craving forlove and of a curious tenderness. Only, Reggie was not the man. He hadroused her, but she did not know whether she ought to be grateful forthat. She blushed as she struggled with her rebellious feelings, andthen resolutely pulled herself together. Her mother must be told.

  Mrs. Cliffe was resting before dinner when Evelyn entered her room andsat down without speaking.

  "What is the matter?" Mrs. Cliffe asked with a premonition thatsomething had gone wrong. "Why do you come in, in this dramatic way?"

  "I didn't mean to be dramatic," Evelyn answered quietly. "Still, perhapsI was rather highly strung. Reggie asked me to marry him, and I told himI could not."

  Mrs. Cliffe sat up suddenly, and there was an angry sparkle in her eyes.

  "Then I think you must be mad! What led you to this absurd conclusion?"

  "It's hard to explain," Evelyn answered with a faint smile. "I suppose Icouldn't give you any very logical reasons."

  "Then it may not be too late to put things right!" Mrs. Cliffe saw a rayof hope.

  "I'm afraid it is. I think Reggie knows that--he was very considerate.There is no use in your trying to do anything; I must have my own way inthis."

  Mrs. Cliffe was painfully surprised. The girl had suddenly developed andrevealed unsuspected capacities. She had grown like her father, who,for all his patience, was sometimes immovable. There was inflexibilityin Evelyn's attitude; her face was hard and determined.

  "Very well," she acquiesced. "Your father must be told, and I don't knowwhat he will do about it."

  "I would rather tell him myself," Evelyn said.

  This was not what Mrs. Cliffe wanted, but the girl moved to the door asshe finished speaking, and her mother sat down, burning withindignation. Her authority had been outraged, she felt overcome, and didnot leave her room all evening.

  Evelyn found Cliffe on the veranda, and took him down the steps beforeshe told him what she had done. He listened without surprise; indeed,she thought his manner was rather curiously sympathetic.

  "Well," he said, "in a way I'm sorry. Reggie's a good fellow as far ashe goes. But I imagined you liked him. Why did you refuse?"

  "It isn't very plain," Evelyn answered. "I felt I had to. Perhaps LongMountain had something to do with it."

  Cliffe smiled, but not with amusement, and Evelyn saw that heunderstood. Somehow she had expected him to do so and she was touchedwhen he gently pressed her arm.

  "After all, you're the person most interested, and you must pleaseyourself--though your mother will be badly disappointed," he said. "It'spossible we're wiser in the woods than in the city. One sees the thingsthat matter more clearly away from the turmoil."