The Barrier: A Novel

  CHAPTER XII

  FORWARDS VARIOUS AFFAIRS

  As time passed on, Colonel Blanchard watched with interest, mixed withsolicitude, the love-matters of his daughters. Judith's affairs weregoing to his satisfaction, for though Mather came occasionally to thehouse, Ellis came oftener. Ellis's land had been bought, his house wasgoing up, and at times he came to discuss his plans with Judith. So farso good, but in another quarter the Colonel was not quite so wellpleased, since the visits of Jim Wayne to Beth were becoming veryfrequent.

  Beth was twenty, Jim was twenty-one. He found the way to Chebasset easyto follow, even though he left his mother at home alone--for the Wayneestate was low in the world, and summer-resorts were not for the widow.She, desolate soul, counted her dollars carefully, and encouraged herson's belief that by selling the house and land to Ellis she had madeherself comfortable for life. "It was only for that," he explained toBeth, "I allowed her to sell. And now she doesn't need my earnings, so Iuse them for myself. She likes me to dress well; she says I'm so like myfather that she can't bear to have me look shabby. And it's a mark of agentleman, don't you think, Beth, to look well?"

  It was so sweet of Jim to admire his father, that Beth could not bear tosay how the elder Wayne was popularly regarded.

  "Why," snorted Mr. Fenno, "what he spent on clothes, cigars, and wines,would have provided enough insurance to keep his family handsomely."

  Fenno, when on the subject, had intended to make it clear to Beth thatJim was too much like his father. Innuendo, however, had failed withBeth--not that she was unable to perceive that Jim had his weaknesses,but she had the habit of championing her favourites against her ownjudgment. Thus she was sorry for the Judge who had chosen his wifeunwisely and could not make her love him, and pitied old Fenno himself,who realised the hollowness of the world only after he had drummed on itfor a good many years. She was fond of such men because they were weak,weak though they knew it not themselves, though the world called themstrong. And so it was not unnatural that Beth should take into herinnermost heart something still weaker to cherish, because she was sostrong herself; something with faults, she had so few herself; somethingwhich would get into trouble, for she was so used to getting people out.She did not realise that the young fall far deeper into trouble than theold, and that she could not give backbone to a man who had none.

  All this is but saying that Beth, wise in the affairs of others, withher own was not so gifted, and was so mistaken as to take Wayne at verynearly his own valuation. For Jim had a dashing air, and dressing in thefashion was the mark of many a girlish eye. He went smooth-shaven; hisface had a slightly petulant expression, as if complaining of the world,yet at times he lighted with the fire of optimism, when he told Beth ofthe things he meant to do. And thus he approached her on two undefendedsides, for never had she turned a deaf ear to a call for sympathy, andnothing in a man did she admire so much as aspiration.

  Thus their affinity declared itself to them, for Jim liked to be purredover and strengthened. He enjoyed telling, to an attentive ear, themisfortunes of his family. "That we should have to sell our house tothat fellow Ellis!" he said to Beth. "It seems too hard, doesn't it? Andto think that in a few years I shall be earning enough to support theold house, if I had it still! But when a fellow's just starting, you'veno idea how little they pay. The business world! Ah, Beth, you're luckyto be a girl, so that you don't have to rub up against life!"

  He spoke as if life in its hardest form were to be met with only onexchange, and shook his handsome head so convincingly that Beth believedhim. She enjoyed believing him; it gave her pleasure to think Jim a manof the world. In fact, he carried himself very well, with none of thosemannerisms which so often betray inexperience. Little allusions todissipation are very common, but Jim was not given to these, and inconsequence seemed more manly than those of his set whom she met. Ofcourse Jim took wine when her father offered it; believing in her fatheras she did, she thought it no sign of dissipation when he or othersdrank at his table. It was a pleasure to Beth that Jim and the Colonelwere congenial, with more than one topic in common. For example, Waynehad a nice taste in wines, fostered by his lamented parent, and coulddiscuss with Blanchard the merits of his '68 and '72. Jim liked theColonel's tobacco, also, and never failed to commend it. But most of allthe two enjoyed speaking of the stock-market and all which to itpertained. The Colonel always asked Jim for the "news of the street,"which the two discussed with as much seriousness as if Jim were notyoung and the Colonel flighty. To these talks Judith and Beth alwayslistened silently--Judith because she knew there would be no use to sayanything, Beth because she did not suppose that anything was to be said.

  Thus when the Colonel led the talk to Consolidated one evening, Judithremembered, but Beth forgot, that Mather had advised against all silverstocks until they should become settled. To Beth stocks were mere names,unembodied nothings without power either to wreck lives or to makepeople happy.

  "Great possibilities," said Jim, wagging his head.

  "Must go up soon, I think," commented her father, with deliberation.

  "Sure!" Jim assented heartily.

  Such incomplete sentences and bits of slang meant wisdom to Beth, andwhen Judith rose from the table, the younger sister still remainedsitting to hear what further Delphic utterances might be made.

  "Always said Argent would slump," stated the Colonel.

  "I got out of that some time ago," declared Jim.

  "Wise!" Blanchard said approvingly, not knowing that Jim's single sharehad been sold under pressure of necessity, when his mother, in one ofthe few decisive moments of her life, declared that Jim himself must buythe new carpet for his room, since she thought the old one still goodenough for a couple of years' wear. Jim had at first meant to have agood carpet, then he decided on a rug, and a large part of his Argentwent into something Turkish, while a little of what was left was devotedto adorning his person. One small share of Consolidated remained as aninvestment, and Jim was now looking for that to rise again to the pointat which he had bought it.

  Jim was an optimist with the instinct of self-approval, and being "in"Consolidated he had picked up the expressions which had fallen in hishearing, justifying him in his wisdom in buying and his hopefulness inwaiting. He told the Colonel what Baxter said, and what Winster said,and especially what Bullfinch had declared in regard to the stock. Now,Bullfinch was that broker with whom the Colonel had his dealings.

  "He said 'Hang on'?" asked Blanchard with pleasure.

  "Yes," said Jim. "And I heard him giving Baxter a tip, sir, which I willpass on to you, if you're interested. He said: 'Watch Poulton Mining andMilling.'"

  "Indeed?" murmured the Colonel.

  "Now, you wouldn't think that, would you, sir?" asked Jim. "It's down,way down; why, it's been down for a couple of years! I had forgottenabout it, almost. But now I'm watching it myself. It has moved a littlelately, up a point and down again. Looks as if some one were interestinghimself in it, don't you think?"

  "May be," assented the Colonel judicially.

  "If Consolidated rises, I'm thinking of taking my money out and puttingit into Poulton. What should you say to that, Colonel?"

  "Where is Poulton now?" asked Blanchard.

  "Twelve and a half," answered Jim.

  "Well," explained the Colonel, "the way I have always looked at thesethings is this. If your money is in a low-priced stock, and it rises adozen points, then perhaps you double. But if your money is in somethinghigh-priced, then on the rise you only make twelve per cent."

  "If only," said Jim, "one could be sure which stock will rise!"

  "You can make sure by watching," asserted the Colonel.

  Once Ellis came in as one of these conversations was in progress; hestood listening while the two amateurs finished their duologue.

  "Don't you think so?" they had appealed to him at the end.

  "Ah, well," replied the master of finance, "you seem to have got hold ofsomething there." Then he went out on t
he piazza with Judith, leavingthe enthusiasts still more cheerful.

  "Your father doesn't act on those ideas of his?" he asked of Judith.

  "I hope not--I think not," she answered. "He just likes to talk withJim."

  "Dabbler!" was Ellis's characterization of the young man. Meanwhile thedabblers still babbled within the house, in high good humour withthemselves.

  It will be noticed that the summer had brought progress to Ellis, infact almost intimacy with Judith. Their closer acquaintance, begun overhis house-plans, had been materially forwarded by Mrs. Harmon, when sheinvited Judith to her house on the evening of Mather's strike.

  Previously, she had been very curious to know how he had got on withJudith. That the girl had supplanted her as chief adviser she becameaware, and was in the beginning a little piqued thereat. When she firstsaw a sketch of the new house, her face fell.

  "Oh, _that_ kind of a house!" she exclaimed. "Why, that's all very wellfor a man with an income like my husband's, but for you it seems toosimple."

  "I like it," he replied without explanation.

  "But no carvings," she persisted. "No turrets, or anything of thatsort."

  "No, no," he said; "this is the only thing."

  "But really, change it!" she urged. "Why, it doesn't represent you. Itmight be anybody's house!"

  "The object isn't to attract attention," Ellis replied. "Quiet anddignity are more genteel." He quoted Judith so exactly (all but for theone word) that Mrs. Harmon perceived it.

  "Oh," she exclaimed with some chagrin. "I see, it's Judith makes you dothis. Of course, if you want to!"

  "Now," he said with a rough tolerance, "think it over. She's right,you'll find. A city house down here won't fit. The girl has livedabroad, remember; she ought to know."

  Mrs. Harmon had reflected and acquiesced. Common sense was fundamentalto both her and Ellis, and combined with more frankness than was usualin the Judge's circle kept them on good terms. Ellis had laid his handon her shoulder while he urged her to consider; she had not resented thesign of their understanding.

  "Well," she said, "Judith knows a good deal, and perhaps I am wrong."Right or wrong, she did not intend that she and Ellis should fall out.Life was dull for her sometimes; she liked to have him dropping in. Andthen those trinkets. She turned the bracelet on her wrist.

  "This is very attractive," she said.

  He grunted indifferently.

  "It's odd," she said further, "and bracelets aren't worn very much. Itattracts attention."

  "That's what Price expected," he responded. She never thanked him forhis gifts more than by such commendations; he did not expect more.

  But she was on each occasion interested to know how he got on withJudith. He knew she kept account of his visits there. "Go oftener," sheurged him once. He was wiser, and refused. "You don't follow it up veryquickly," she repeatedly said, but "all in good time" was the most shecould get out of him.

  "What do you talk about with her?" she asked.

  "The doings in the city," he answered. "The big things going onanywhere."

  "Does that get you very far with her?" she asked in surprise.

  "As far as I can get," he replied.

  She thought to advise him. "You don't understand girls, Stephen. Thetalk you give her isn't what she wants. A girl of her ageneeds--flattery, you know, and nice little things said."

  "You'd make me into a Jim Wayne," he retorted. "A monkey in a Panama,saying foolish things." Mrs. Harmon drew herself up, but he did notperceive. "Pretty fool I'd be, saying the things he does. I heard a talkof his and Beth's, and this is the sort of thing he said--." But Ellismisrepresented Jim entirely, having looked at him from a strictlypersonal point of view. The conversation, harmless as it was, is besttaken at first hand.

  "How swell you look to-night!" Jim had begun. "Gad, that rose in yourhair--trust a girl to know what's nifty!"

  "Don't be silly," Beth replied.

  "Straight!" Jim protested. "Never saw you look so stunning. Thismoonlight brings it all out, you know. Poetic, Beth, on my word! I say,let's go down on the beach, and you can recite me that thing ofTennyson's."

  "Shelley's," Beth corrected him.

  "Just as good," said Jim cheerfully. "Come on, do!"

  Such is the literal report of a conversation which Beth thought highlydelightful, but which Ellis delivered with some distortion of manner andword, calculated to throw discredit on Wayne's attractions. "Flat andsilly," he characterised it. "Now if you suppose that a man of my agecan say that sort of thing to a girl like Judith Blanchard, you'rewrong, Lyddy--Lydia, I mean."

  She seized her chance to show a little of her true feeling; long ago shehad asked him not to use the old nickname. She answered coldly: "Ofcourse, you know your affairs best. And equally of course, you can't dothings which Mr. Wayne can."

  "Don't be hard on me," he said. "Wayne's all right in his way, but I'mno boy, nor is Judith like her sister. If Wayne's a friend of yours, I'msorry." For he divined that something more than his use of her name hadcaused her coldness.

  "I scarcely know him," she responded. "But let me tell you that a womanhad sometimes rather a man would make a fool of himself by calling herhandsome, than be too wise in his talk."

  Ellis had no answer ready, and the subject dropped, but before he lefthe made an attempt at conciliation. "You see, really sometimes I don'tunderstand myself, even, or the girl. I'll try to remember what you say.Keep me in her mind, you know, Lydia."

  It was a truth that he spoke: he did not understand the girl, norhimself. He still prized her fire and dreaded her theories, with eachmeeting he admired her more than ever, but he was finding in her abaffling reserve which taught him that he must go slow. He could not winher out of hand; some spring of action in her there was yet to find,some ideal which he must satisfy. Might it not be too high!--and therelay the new uncertainty in himself, that he was not sure of conqueringher, while conquer her he must! For she was growing indispensable tohim, all thought of her as a commodity had fled, and he was now familiarwith that longing for her while still he found no name for it. Theemotions which he understood were his own ambition and others' greed, hehad no knowledge of the finer desires which can be roused in man. So,somewhat puzzled, he laboured to please Judith by the only means heknew, with far more success than might have been expected.

  Then came that evening when Mrs. Harmon invited Judith to her house,where Ellis had arrived at almost the same time. It irritated the girlat first to be so evidently brought in his way, and with Mather'sachievement in her mind she was for some time cool and quiet, until Mrs.Harmon, with great self-control, took herself out of the room. ThenEllis brought the conversation at once to familiar ground. He toldJudith that he had for some time been working to bring about acombination of the cotton manufacturers. "We can control the wholesection, and can do much toward setting prices, if this can only bemanaged."

  "You mean to make it a trust?" asked Judith, interested.

  "Yes," he said. "But some of the operators are shy, the contracts andthe sharing are so intricate. They--I--they don't know what I'm reallyat."

  Judith failed to understand that his reputation stood in the way ofcomplete confidence. "Can't they see that the combination will benefitthem?"

  "Yes," he answered, "but the scheme scares them. It's big."

  "I have heard of a lawyer," she said, "a New Yorker, who gives his wholetime to nothing but framing agreements for trusts, and meeting thecorporation laws. If you could call him in, couldn't he perhaps make itclear to the others? The advantages, I mean, and the safety?"

  "Where did you hear of him?" asked Ellis.

  "I read of him," she answered, "in a magazine."

  "I never read magazines," he said thoughtfully. "It mightn't be a badidea. By Gad," he went on, warming, "I think it might be just the thing.A stranger to us all, he'd be able to give confidence, I do believe. Andthere's so much in it!" He turned to Judith with energy. "Could you findme that magazine?"

  "Ye
s," she answered, all her coldness gone in the rush of interest, asshe saw herself influencing affairs. "It is at home."

  "Let me walk back with you, then, when you go."

  Mrs. Harmon entered, having heard the last part of their talk, havinglistened, in fact. "Is that the sort of thing she really cares about?"she asked herself in surprise.

  It was, indeed, the sort of thing which attracted Judith; no wonder thatthere was a new light in her eyes when she came home with Ellis. Nowonder that Beth tore up her letter to Mather. Judith had gained aninterest in the future which put quite out of her mind the memory of thetrifling strike at the mill. Ellis promised to tell her if he used heridea; she was eager to know if it bore results. He let her know, beforelong, that he was working on it; he would tell her if anything happened.Judith scanned daily the reports of industrial affairs, to see if thecombination took shape.

  Thus that invitation of Mrs. Harmon's was of great value to Ellis, butwhen the other tried to draw nearer to the girl it proved a differentundertaking. Mrs. Harmon was lonely; she wanted companionship; itirritated her that Judith and Beth had cavaliers, while she had none.One day she asked Judith out to drive, and for a while the two sat inthe victoria glum and stupid. They were too widely different in theirnatures ever to be intimate.

  But Mrs. Harmon made the attempt. "Mr. Ellis," she said, choosing themost promising topic, "is a most interesting man, Judith--you will letme call you Judith, won't you?"

  "Certainly," was the answer.

  "Thank you. And don't forget that my name is Lydia; Mr. Ellis calls meby it at times. Doesn't he fascinate you with what he does?"

  That was something which Judith was not prepared to admit. "He iscertainly very active in many matters," she replied, wary of what shesaid, for fear of her companion's tongue.

  "He controls so much; he plans and carries out such great things!" wenton Mrs. Harmon. "Ah, he is a keen man, my dear. Don't you think so?"

  Judith thought so.

  "He has a great future before him," prophesied Mrs. Harmon, but sheperceived that she roused no answering spasm in Judith's breast.Therefore Mrs. Harmon's artificial palpitation presently subsided, withsome suddenness, and she had the feeling that perhaps the young lady wasovermuch for her. Before the end of the drive Mrs. Harmon found herselfobliged to say, in self-defence:

  "Driving makes one so contemplative, don't you think? Sometimes I coulddrive for hours, just so, perfectly content but saying nothing."

  Judith confessed to the same sensation. When Mrs. Harmon was alone, sheconcluded that the experiment had been fully tried. Later, Judith askedher over to tea, but the situation was so much relieved when otherpeople dropped in that Mrs. Harmon lost hope of a real friendship inthat quarter.