Page 18 of A Top-Floor Idyl


  CHAPTER XVIII

  DIANA AMONG MORTALS

  "I am awfully sorry that you took the trouble of coming all the way uphere," I told her. "I am afraid that the colored maid is littleaccustomed to social usages. There is a little parlor downstairs."

  "Oh! It's all right, Mr. Cole. I asked for you and she just pointed upwith her thumb and said 'Top floor,' so I climbed up."

  She took a step towards Frances, extending her hand.

  "I know I have seen you before," she said pleasantly, "but I can't forthe moment remember where we met."

  "I think, Miss Van Rossum, that you have only been acquainted with Mrs.Dupont through the medium of my friend Gordon's talent. You may remembera 'Mother and Child' in his studio."

  "Of course. I remembered the face at once. Gordon is such a wonderfulpainter, so clever in obtaining the most marvelous likenesses. And--andhe didn't flatter his models a great deal, either. I am very glad tomeet you, Mrs. Dupont."

  Frances smiled, in her graceful way, and expressed her own pleasure.

  "You--you also know Gordon, of course, since you posed for him, Mrs.Dupont. I--I came here to speak with Mr. Cole about him."

  "I can hardly offer you the hospitality of my room, Miss Van Rossum," Itold her. "It is a rather disorderly bachelor's den. If you will allowme to lead you downstairs to the little parlor the landlady provides herguests with, I shall be delighted to----"

  "No, if you don't mind, I shall remain here for a moment. Mr. Cole, youare Gordon's best friend; he used to say that you were the greatexception, a man one could always trust in everything. I hope Mrs.Dupont will not mind, she--she is a woman and may be able to advise me.I have legions of friends--we know thousands of people, but it doesn'tseem to me that there is another soul to whom I may come for--for alittle----"

  She interrupted her words. I had pushed a chair forward for her and sheacknowledged the offer with a smile, but did not avail herself of it atonce, for she went to the bed where Baby Paul was, for a wonder, lyingawake and rolling his eyes about. On his face, however, there wassomething that Frances and I considered a polite little grin.

  "Is this the dear baby of the picture?" she asked. "He has grown such alot. What a dear lamb of a child it is! Oh! Mrs. Dupont, how proud andhappy a woman must be to be the mother of such a darling!"

  Decidedly Miss Sophia was revealing herself in a very fine light. Forall of her riding astride after hounds, and her golfing and shooting andtennis, she was a very real woman and her heart was in the right place.Frances took up Baby Paul and sat down with him on her lap, where hepromptly went to sleep again.

  "I remember how Gordon spoke of you, several times, Mrs. Dupont," saidMiss Van Rossum. "He said a queer thing, once, one of the strange littlesentences he always used to bring out. I was looking at your picture andtold him it represented a very beautiful woman, and he answered thatshe was one of those ideals the other fellow always gets hold of.But--but I don't see that there was anything very ideal about thatpainting. It was just you."

  For a moment Frances looked away. The phrase reminded her of an unhappycircumstance, I have no doubt, but, to me, it represented cynicismcarried to an unpermissible length.

  "But I must come to the point," continued Miss Van Rossum, with a slightfrown, which I deemed an indication that she had something ratherdifficult to say. "Of course you've been wondering at my coming here. Iknow it's a bit unconventional, but I didn't want to write and ask youto come and see me. We have only just returned from California and areoff to Southampton in the morning. I--I simply felt that I must take mychance of finding you at home. I told you a minute ago that Gordonalways said you were a man to be trusted to the utmost, and--and I wantto find out something about him. Please, Mr. Cole, have you any news ofhim?"

  "I have received but one very short letter," I replied. "I will go andget it for you."

  I think I was glad to escape for a moment and leave her with Frances,for I foresaw a long cross-examination. She had looked very brave andstrong at the moment of her amazing arrival, and I had wondered at suchan unusual proceeding. But now I realized that she was very profoundlydisturbed, that her show of pluck was but a veil to cover a heart whichcould suffer the same pains as gnaw at the breasts of so many of hersisters of humbler station. Gordon, old friend, I fear I shall neverquite forgive you! You have done vivisection without the excuse ofscientific need, without the slightest idea that it could profit any onebut yourself!

  I found the note, but did not return immediately. I asked myself howmuch she knew, seeing that there were many possibilities of inflictingfurther pain on a very fine young woman who was already undergoingunmerited punishment. Finally, I went back, slowly, to find her sittingin front of Frances, with their two heads quite near one another andtheir eyes directed to Baby Paul's little pink mouth.

  "I have it here. Miss Van Rossum. You will see that it is quite short.He must be tremendously busy and surely snatched a precious moment for aword to an old friend."

  I handed her the letter, in an envelope that had been opened by thecensor and pasted over with a bit of thin paper. She took it with a verysteady hand.

  The girl was engaged in playing a game, I could plainly see. It was onein which her heart was involved and perhaps her pride somewhat aroused.She opened the thing and looked over the brief sentences.

  "_Dear old Dave_:

  "Found a lot of fellows I knew. Didn't have a bit of trouble getting in. I'm going to drive one of those cars I wouldn't have been found dead in, in old New York. They tell me they do very well as ambulances, though. I'm close to the front now and have seen a good deal of the crop being garnered there. It makes a fellow feel that he doesn't amount to much. There isn't any harrowing of one's own mind that can last very long in the presence of this real and awful suffering.

  "Ever your old GORDON.

  "P.S. Give my love to Frieda."

  Miss Van Rossum read it over at least twice. Then her eyes slowly rosefrom the page and, perhaps, without seeing very clearly, swept overFrances and me. She folded it and replaced it in the envelope, verycarefully, before handing it back.

  "I--I have no doubt that it has greatly appealed to him," she said, nowvaguely looking out of the window into yards chiefly adorned withfluttering raiment dependent from a very spider's web of intricatelines. "It--it was a sporting thing to do, you know, very manly andfine. But he also wrote to me and--I have never been able to understand.Of course I wouldn't have interfered with--with a plan like that. I haveonly wished I could have gone over and done something too--somethingthat would count and make one feel that she could be of some use in theworld. Yes--it's a big thing he's done--but why did he write me such aletter?"

  She opened a small bag she had been carrying and pulled out a missivethat bore my friend's monogram, a very plain G.M. cleverly interlaced.

  "Won't you please look at it, Mr. Cole? I got it the day we leftFlorida. I--I was rather bunkered at first, you know."

  I took it from her, doubtless displaying far more nervousness than shewas showing, for she appeared to be quite calm. I saw that she had takenthe blow as Frieda's pugilistic friend might have accepted what he callsa wallop, with a brave smile, after the first wince. I also read it overtwice.

  "_My dear Sophia_:

  "It's rather hard on a fellow to be compelled to acknowledge he's anything but a decent sportsman. I'm afraid I shall have to. In your kindness you may, perhaps, forgive me. I have made a bad mess of things. I wouldn't mind so much if it wasn't hitting you also, because you're a good pal and a splendid girl who deserves a better chap. I'm off abroad to play chauffeur to the cripples, and, of course, there is no telling when I'll be back.

  "I hope to God you will find some decent fellow who really deserves you and will make you happy.

  "Affectionately,

  "GORDON."

  After I had finished this horrible and clumsy message, I look
ed at MissVan Rossum. There was something very wistful and strong in the glancethat rested upon me. I had no doubt that she had been studying my face,as I read, and watching the impression made on me. Of course, he hadbeen greatly agitated when he wrote. I felt sure that he must have tornup one letter after another and finally sent the worst of all. It haddwindled into a few lines, which explained nothing, being merely brutaland final, like a knockout blow. He had made a mess of things, forsooth!Well, the reading of such a letter might have made one think that he hadrobbed a bank or cheated at cards!

  "You see, Mr. Cole, it doesn't say much, does it? I just had to tell mymother that Gordon had felt called upon to go off and--and do a bigthing, and that of course the--the whole thing was put off indefinitely.I--I don't think she was disappointed. Of course, they had allowed me tohave my own way, and they liked Gordon very well, but they had a notionthat in our own circle--But, of course, that's neither here nor there.Naturally, I knew at once that Gordon could never have done anythingreally wrong. He's a very true and genuine man, in his way, andincapable of--of a nasty action. So I just had to suppose that perhapssome other woman had come into his life and that he didn't love me anymore. And he--he was never very demonstrative, you know; it wasn't hisway. But he had always been such a good friend, and so wonderfullyclever, and--But of course, you know all that. His letter to you, Ithink, gives me what they call a clue. He--he sends his love to--tosomebody I don't know. Of course I'm not going to ask--I really onlycame to know whether there was anything I could do. I wondered whetherthere was, perhaps, some money trouble, or something like that, and I'dhave been so glad to--to help out. You were his best friend and couldhave told me how to manage it, but now I see----"

  She interrupted her words, rising from the chair I had offered her andlooking very handsome and, I must say, dignified.

  "I wouldn't have troubled you, you know, but I have been all at sea.It--it has been rather tough, because Gordon is a man whom a woman couldlove very deeply--at any rate I never realized how I felt towards him,until I had gone away and then received this letter."

  I had been listening, looking into her fine, clear, blue eyes, whichhonestly and truly, with the frankness and candor of the child or thechaste woman, had expressed the love that had been in her heart and,perhaps, lingered there still. So intent had I been upon her words thatI had failed to hear adventitious sounds. Frances, also, with her handpressed to her bosom, showed eyes dimmed by gathering tears. She hadrisen with the impulse to go forward and press this suffering woman toher heart. I was about to explain the message of love in Gordon'spostscript, when there was a wheezing at the door, which had been leftopen.

  Fat and beaming, with her most terrible hat and a smudge of yellow ochreon her chin, Frieda came in.

  "Beg your pardon," she panted. "It's getting real warm and the stairsare becoming steeper every day. How's the angel lamb?"

  "Miss Van Rossum," I said, "let me introduce our excellent friend MissFrieda Long. Every one who knows her loves her. She's the next bestpainter to Gordon in this burg, or any other, and a second mother toBaby Paul."

  Miss Sophia stared at her for an instant. Then, came a little smile inwhich there was relief and comprehension. She advanced with armoutstretched, and Frieda went right up to her.

  "My dear," said the latter, "our dear old Dave and Gordon have told usenough about you to make me feel glad indeed to know you. I saw thatportrait of yours and it didn't flatter you a bit, in fact, it seems tome that it missed something of your expression. But it was mighty good,just the same, like everything he ever did."

  She backed off as far as the bed, on which she sat down, fanning herselfviolently with a newspaper. An instant later she rushed to Frances, tookup the baby with the usual robust delicacy she always shows in thatprocess, and began to ask news relating to important developments indentition.

  Miss Sophia observed her. I saw that some ray of gladness had enteredher heart since a terrible question appeared to be settledsatisfactorily. To her tall and graceful womanhood the idea that ourdarling, pudgy Frieda, with her crow's feet, from much staring throughher spectacles, with that fright of a hat, could for a second have beenmistaken for a rival was nothing less than amusing.

  "Well, Mr. Cole, I think I will have to be going now," she said. "I--Iam glad--oh, I mean that I hope you will be so kind as to let me knowwhether you get any further news. I shall always have a deep interest inGordon's welfare. Letters would reach me at Southampton, all summer.Good-by, Mrs. Dupont, I am delighted to have had the pleasure of meetingyou. Mrs.--I mean Miss Frieda, I hope you will be so kind as to let mesee your pictures, some day. I remember now that Gordon showed me one ofthem at the winter exhibition. I wanted to buy it, but somebody hadalready snapped it up, of course, because it was so lovely. No, Mr.Cole, please don't take the trouble."

  She had shaken hands with my two friends and insisted on kissing thebaby, who appreciated the attention by crowing at her.

  I followed her out in spite of her request.

  "You must permit me to see you to the door, Miss Van Rossum," I said,"it is the least I can do. I will surely let you know, if I hearanything."

  She nodded, very pleasantly, and went down the distressing stair-carpetwith the ease of her perfect physical training. At the door there was abig brute of a sixty horsepower runabout and a chauffeur, who swiftlycast aside a half-consumed cigarette and stood at attention. She stoppedon the stoop and turned to me.

  "I--I don't think I know any more than when I came," she said, ratherhaltingly. "There--there wasn't anything wrong, was there, Mr. Cole?"

  "My dear young lady, I am proud to say that Gordon is incapable of doinganything that would infringe the laws. But he certainly has done an evilthing, for he has treated you very brutally, and I will never forgivehim. He has failed to appreciate--to understand. If he has discoveredthat his heart--that he was incapable of giving you the strongest andmost genuine love, it is his misfortune and--I am afraid, perhaps yours,and he did well to go away. But he should have been more considerate, heought to have explained things in person instead of----"

  "But you must remember that I was in Florida, Mr. Cole," sheinterrupted.

  "Then he should have taken the first train and joined you there. A manhas no business to shirk a duty," I said indignantly.

  "Oh! Mr. Cole! You must remember that Gordon isn't--isn't a man quitelike others. He has the quick and impulsive temperament of so manyartistic people."

  "He always pretends to be so cool and to act only after the most maturedeliberation," I objected.

  "True enough, but then, you know, that sort of thing is often rather apose. I suppose that none of us is quite free from a little pretense,under which the true man or woman shows."

  "I am glad indeed to hear you take his part," I told her, "and I hope hewill do some fine manly things over there and return in his right mind,with his eyes open to--to what he has been so foolish as to----"

  "I know that he will give the best of himself, Mr. Cole," she put in."Gordon is a first rate sportsman, and that means a man who will playthe game, strongly and honestly, without taking the slightest advantage.And perhaps----"

  "My dear lady, I know a good woman who burns candles when she wantsanything badly, and prays before the Virgin. I shall get her to exerther good offices in our behalf. I'd give anything to know thateverything will turn out as I heartily wish it may, for both your sakes.In you, I know that he has found all that a man may wish and long for inthe world, and yet has failed to appreciate his good fortune."

  She put her gloved hand in mine.

  "Thank you," she said simply. "I--I'll wait, a long time."

  She went down the steps and entered the machine, sitting before the bigwheel, strongly aslant and grooved to give a strong grip. The chauffeurjiggled something, whereat the great beast began to hum. She noddedagain to me and started without the slightest jerk. Evidently she drovebetter than Gordon. She turned the nose of the thing around till thefront wheels were an eigh
th of an inch from the sidewalk, backed againin circular fashion, and swept off towards the avenue. Sixty horses, Ireflected, could lie obediently in the hollow of her hand, but just oneman, who should have thanked Heaven upon his knees, had squirmed awaylike an arrant fool.

  I went up the stairs, slowly, chewing upon the fact that I had givenher no inkling of how matters really stood. But, in deference to thefeelings of Frances, it had been impossible for me to do so, especiallysince she was no longer an element in the case. Gordon had given up allhope of her and run away, so that this closed one part of the incident.Then, if I had told Miss Van Rossum of Gordon's proposal to Frances, itwould have made her very unhappy and she might possibly have blamed themodel. Women, the very best and dearest of them, are sometimes not quitefair to their own sex.

  Yes, it was a matter that belonged to Frances and Gordon, and I had noright to be a bearer of tales, so that Miss Van Rossum is unaware thatGordon went away for love of another woman. I hope she never hears ofit. Should anything happen to him, while driving his ambulance at thefront, she will be able to maintain a high regard for his memory. As themonths pass on, her feelings may become easier to bear. I wish she couldmeet and become fond of some fine fellow, who would recognize what asplendid woman she is and adore her ever after. I feel that she deservesit.

  When I returned upstairs, I found my two friends discussing Miss VanRossum, together with her nose and complexion and other appurtenances,including her dress. Their criticisms were highly flattering, Iremember. Our stout friend soon left, having merely come in for herdaily inspection of Baby Paul.

  "Now, David," said Frances, "I must say that I feel more unhappy thanever over Mr. McGrath's conduct. It was abominable of him to jilt thatgirl, let alone proposing to me. She's a perfectly lovely woman."

  "I am disposed to agree with you, Frances. His conduct is inexcusable.At the same time, I cannot blame him for falling in love with you. Anyproperly constituted man would do that without the slightest difficulty.I myself----"

  "Please be serious, David," she interrupted.

  "I was never more serious in my life," I assured her, "but--but tell mehow you are getting on with the singing."

  "I really think I am doing very well," she told me. "Listen, I will singyou a little thing. Baby likes it ever so much."

  She sat right down to the piano, beginning at once without theslightest hesitation. It was the lullaby from _Mignon_. I rememberhearing Plancon sing it once; it is a beautiful thing. Frances didn'tput all her force in it, the whole strength of her voice, of course, butso much tender sentiment and such sweet understanding that the melodyheld me in thrall and made me close my eyes. What a fool I have beenever to have thought that a woman holding such a treasure would perhapsbestow herself, some day, upon an insignificant writer!