The Barrier: A Novel

  CHAPTER XIV

  MR. PEASE INTRUDES UPON A SECRET

  The summer passed; through October the city gathered its own to itselfagain. The stay-at-homes, such as Miss Cynthia and Mrs. Wayne, saw withrelief shutters go down and blinds open, saw awnings spread oversouthern windows and children playing on lawns. Poor Mrs. Wayne,threatened with the loss of her treasure, could call less formally uponher daughter-in-law-to-be, yet could not quite reconcile herself withmatters as they stood. But that is the way of mothers. Jim began to urgethat the engagement be announced, but Beth put him off for anotherlittle while.

  And now Pease found comfort in the thought of Beth's return, since itwould give him his innocent pleasure without journeys or the neglect ofbusiness. His winter clothes were chosen with unusual care, nor did hethis time repel the tailor's semi-annual attempt to give him a moreyouthful appearance. At his home Pease became a new man, and MissCynthia sneered as she fastened the charge upon him.

  "More colour in your neckties!" she sniffed disdainfully.

  He smiled, untroubled. "Yes; they tell me it's to be quite proper, thisfall."

  Astonishment prevented her from speaking; never before had he desertedthe middle ground of fashion. Thus the lighter shade of his new overcoatwas a sign, his wearing of tan shoes a portent. And his very carriagewas different, as of a man who has at last found the spring of youth anddrinks of it daily. His mannerisms were softening, he took more interestin social news, and an undercurrent of thought always swayed his mind inthe direction where knowledge or imagination placed Beth Blanchard.

  There was stupidity in Pease, for he did not find the meaning of theexistence of Jim Wayne. But very slowly he discovered the reason for hisown sensations. He met Beth first in April; by the middle of the summerhe knew that she attracted him extremely; a month later he acknowledgedthat he was going to Chebasset for the sake of seeing her; upon herreturn to Stirling he felt continual odd thoracic sensations whichseemed to make him a living compass, pointing always to Beth. After afortnight of this sort of thing he waked one day from a reverie of her,to realise that he loved her. The discovery affected him with vertigo;he had to seek the air and think the matter over. In about a week hebecame familiar with the situation and accepted it. He paused oneevening before his motto from Goethe, and smiled to think that he hadonce considered the end of happiness to be mere culture.

  Loving Beth, he did not at first include her in his hopes. There wassuch delight in contemplating a definite image in absence, suchsatisfaction in watching Beth herself when present, that for some timehe went no further. He made it clear to Beth that he was always willingto attempt anything she desired, and then from time to time looked in onher and adored. Yet the humanising process eventually proceeded. Gazingat his idol until its every perfection was known to him, at last therecame the question: Why not possess it? And this worked on him so that inthe end he became extremely determined.

  So gentle was the increase of his attentions that Beth did not at firsttake the alarm. At home, no abstraction betrayed him to Miss Cynthia,who thought that he had resigned himself. He was more lively, normalthan ever before, and only Mather suspected in him the determination todo or die. The change of the scene of operations from Chebasset to thecity, however, gave Mather no chance to keep abreast of the march ofevents, since the manager still spent most of his days and nights at theseaside. Thus no one enlightened Pease until it became Beth's task to doso herself.

  He dressed himself with unusual care one afternoon; had it been theevening Miss Cynthia would never have suspected. But his newest suit,his freshest gloves, the box of violets in his hand, and (more than all)the single pink in his lapel--all these for a moment made her suspectthe truth as she watched him leave the house. "Whatever is the man----?"But he was gone, and there was nothing to be done.

  He found Beth at home, and gave her the box of violets. She thanked himwith such prettiness as always charmed him, such warmth as always madehim glow. The poor man tried now to say words of love, he who had neverpractised them even to himself. It was a long way round, through theweather, the news, the latest invitation, to the deepest emotion of thehuman heart. But he pointed straight to it at last, and Beth understood.

  So she sprang to head him off in the kindest, surest way. "I----" shehesitated with heightened colour, "I have something to tell you, Mr.Pease. Almost nobody knows it [almost everybody was nearer the truth, asJim weekly complained], but you have been such a good friend that Ithink I should like you to know."

  "You are very kind," he answered, much pleased, and opening his bosom tothe fatal dart. "I will tell no one without your permission."

  "I should like you to tell your cousin," she said. "I--I----" Her facebecame scarlet. "Mr. Pease, I am engaged to marry Mr. Wayne."

  Down fell his house of cards; it seemed as if the chambers of his brainresounded, and for a moment his head bowed low. Then he raised it againand looked at her, and for the merest instant she saw a face of misery.

  "Oh, Mr. Pease," she cried, "I am so sorry!"

  There was a moment of stupid silence. "I--I regret," he said at length,"to distress you, by letting you know."

  "How can I help knowing?" she answered simply. He sat dumb while she,twisting her fingers in and out, sought for further words. "If I," shesaid at last with tears in her eyes, "if I have hurt you, I hope thatyou will blame me, and forget me."

  "Blame?" he cried. "And forget? No, no!" She saw his face light nobly."Miss Blanchard, you have given me new ideals--humanised me. Blame andforget? Why, my life was small and narrow; you have led me out ofmyself! Everything is better through knowing you. Therefore, I may saywith a cheerful heart:

  "Tis better to have loved and lost Than never to have loved at all!"

  He sat upright and smiled, but tears stood in her eyes; she could makeno response. After a moment he asked her: "You are to be married soon?"

  "No," she answered, and gained command of herself. "We must wait awhile--and you know it is very slow, rising in Mr. Wayne's business."

  "Yes." Then he rose and held out his hand; she gave him hers at once. "Iwill go," he said. "Do not reproach yourself, and--God bless youalways!" He bent and kissed her hand, smiled again, and then was gone.

  She sat down, miserable. Not his brave cheerfulness, nor his almostcomic quoting of the old-fashioned couplet, could drive from her theknowledge that his heart was bleeding. Slowly the tears welled out uponher cheeks.

  Then Wayne entered joyously. "I passed old Pease on the steps, and hedidn't see me. What's wrong with him?"

  She ran to him. "Oh, Jim!" she cried, and clung to him, weeping.

  "Oho! Indeed?" he exclaimed, and horrified her by loud laughter.

  Pease had not noticed whom he passed upon the steps. For a moment afterleaving the house he had stood in the vestibule, looking at the settingsun. One would have said that its splendour passed into his face andillumined it; indeed, a glory entered him at that moment, an ecstacy ofself-forgetfulness. The sunset faded quickly, but the inner light stillshone on his face as he went homeward.

  Miss Cynthia saw it when he entered the parlour where she was sitting.Her cousin had never appeared so to her before, and for a moment shemistook. "Is it possible?" she asked herself.

  "Cynthia," he said quietly, "Miss Beth Blanchard asked me to tell youthat she is to marry Mr. Wayne."

  "No!" she cried, angry at once, her love for her cousin blazing in hereyes. "She mustn't!" Then she was ashamed, for he answered gently:

  "It seems to me a very happy fortune."

  But he could say no more, for a single dry sob burst from her. Fearingto lose his own self-command, he went up to his room.

  From that minute Miss Cynthia's admiration of her cousin, which for sometime had been passive, recommenced to grow, expanding far beyond itsformer boundaries as she found what further depths there were in hischaracter. Never, even in their early days of struggle, had he been soconsiderate, kind, and wise. Indeed, on the very day after his gr
eatdisappointment he proved his manliness.

  Pease travelled down to Chebasset and found Mather in the office asusual. The manager greeted him with an inward pity, for in the morning'smail he had received a letter from Beth, informing her dear George, whomshe had always regarded as one of her best friends, that she and Mr.Wayne--etcetera, etcetera. With sorrow for Pease, therefore, Mathergreeted him, to be surprised by the banker's smile. When his errand wasannounced Mather was surprised the more.

  "You have been saying, haven't you," asked Pease, "that you must soonhave an assistant here, to take charge of the mill while you are in thecity."

  "Yes," Mather answered. "We are running smoothly now, and my hands aremore than full, taking care of both making and selling. I must be in thecity all the time, so soon as I can find a capable man to take my placehere."

  "I have found him," announced Pease, beaming. "James Wayne!"

  "I said a _capable_ man, Mr. Pease," replied Mather. "The boy is greenand flighty."

  "Yes, I know," said Pease. "But isn't he worth the trial?"

  Mather rose and began to pace the office. Did he dare trust anything inJim's hands? "You promised me," he reminded, "that I should have fullcontrol over the business."

  "So you shall, so you shall," soothed Pease. "But a trial? Come, now!"

  Between respect for his employer, affection for Beth, and interest inWayne himself, Mather saw that he was caught. "You're too good forwords!" he said, and yielded.

  So the position was offered to Jim, and gave Beth a happy opening to herengagement. Amid all the presents which, according to the custom thatignores the chance of a broken betrothal, came pouring in, nothingpleased Beth so much as the fact that now it was open to her Jim to makehis way in the world.