CHAPTER VII
THE DARING ADVENTURE
They were married at two o'clock the next day. The wedding was inchurch, at Elsie Murray's desire. With a certain defiance expressive ofhis attitude toward all the world, Adriance, after obtaining theirlicense, took her to the rector of that costly and fashion-approvedcathedral which the Adriances graced with their membership andoccasional attendance. Of course the two were met with astonishment, butthere was a decision in the young man's speech and bearing that forbadeinterference. The clergyman did not find the familiar, easy,good-natured Tony Adriance in the man who curtly silenced delicateallusion to the wedding's unexpectedness and the surprising absence ofMr. Adriance, senior.
"I am over age, and so is Miss Murray," was the brief statement, whosefinality ended comment. "Will you be good enough not to delay us; we areleaving town?"
There were no more objections. Of course the bride was not recognized asMrs. Masterson's nurse; she simply was an unknown girl. And she did notin any way suggest that Mr. Adriance was marrying out of his world.Adriance himself entirely approved of her in this new role. He liked herdark-blue suit with its relieving white at throat and wrists, and hersmall hat with a modest white quill at just the right angle. And shewore the shining, Spanish-heeled, small shoes of his choosing. Henoticed how large her gray eyes were, when she lifted them to his,large, and clear as pure water is clear under a still, gray sky. But herheavy lashes threw shadows across them, as he had once seen lines ofshadow lie across a little lake in Maine on an autumn day. He wonderedif she was happy, or frightened. He could not tell what she was thinkingor feeling.
So they were married before the imposing altar of cream-hued marble, andthe conventional notice went to the newspapers:
Adriance-Murray. Elsie Galvez Murray to Anthony Adriance, Jr., by the Rev. Dr. Van Huyden, at St. Dunstan's Cathedral.
It was very simply done, for so daring an adventure.
When they stood outside, in the sparkling autumn sunshine, ElsieAdriance asked her first question.
"Where are we going?" she wondered, in her soft, blurred speech that nowAdriance recognized as of the South. Her middle name had caught hisattention also. There once had been a governor of Louisiana calledGalvez; New Orleans has a street named for him.
But he was not thinking of ancestry now. He looked doubtfully at hiscompanion. In spite of his repressed bearing, he was suffering aterrible excitement and a tearing conflict of will and desire. He wasacutely conscious of the finality of what had been done; and one part ofhim wished it undone. He thought of his father and Lucille as a man in afever thinks; glimpsing them in a confusion of remembered pictures,conceiving their future attitude with the exaggeration of hisunreasoning sense of guilt and belated regret. He felt himself in bonds,and the instinct of escape gripped and shook him. But he kept himself inhand.
"Where do you wish to go?" he temporized, withholding his own wish. Itbecame him to consider her first, now and hereafter.
She shook her head.
"I follow you," she reminded him, quite simply and gravely. "Wherewould--it be easiest for you? You spoke of going out of town; perhapsthat would be best. I think, it seems to me, that we should start as wemean to go on."
"Yes!" he exclaimed eagerly. She had offered him his inmost desire; inhis gratitude he caught her hand, stammering in the rush of wordsreleased. "Yes. If you will go, I have a house--our house. Let me tellyou. Yesterday, after meeting you at Masterson's the night before, I wasat the limit. I had to keep out of doors and keep moving, or go topieces. I kept seeing Fred, and Holly. Well, I took a long drive; acrossthe river, I went, perhaps because you were always looking over there asif it were some kind of a fairyland. And on the way back, on the roadalong the Palisades, I saw the house. It was--I stopped and went in. Itlooked like a place you had made a picture of. I can't explain what Imean, but I sat down there and thought things out. You won't be angry?I bought it. Not that I was so sure of you! You see, if you refused totake me, I knew I had money enough to buy fifty like it for a whim. Andif you would come, it was the house."
There was no anger in her glance, only a heartening comprehension andcordial willingness.
"Let us go there," she agreed. "I should like that best of all."
Reanimated, he put her into the waiting taxicab, gave the chauffeur hisdirections, and closed the door upon their first wedded solitude.
"But this is one of the things we must not do," she told him, bringingthe relief of humor to the situation. "We must not take taxis and letthem wait for us with a price on the head of each moment. It is morethan extravagant; it is reckless."
He laughed out, surprised.
"So it is. I am afraid you will have a lot to teach me."
"Yes," she assumed the burden. "Yes."
They rode down to the ferry, and the taxicab rolled on board the broad,unsavory-smelling boat. When the craft started, the vibration of theengine sent a throbbing sense of departure through Adriance such as henever had felt in starting a European voyage. This time he could notreturn. He was humbly grateful for Elsie's silence, which permitted hisown.
On the Jersey side their cab slowly moved through the dark ferry house,then plunged out into a sun-drenched world and swung blithely up to thelong Edgewater hill. They left the river shipping behind, presently. Thesunlight glittered through the woods that still clothe the long,rampart-like stretches along the summit of the great cliffs; a forest ofjewels like the subterranean woods of the Twelve Dancing Princesses,only instead of silver and diamonds these trees displayed the red ofcornelian and brown of topaz all set in copper and bronze. The storm ofthe night before had littered the ground with the spoils of LadyAutumn's jewel-box; the air was spicily sweet and very clear.
The village on the first slope of the hills had been dingy and poor.Here above, on the heights winding up the river, there were few houses,with long spaces between. Elsie leaned at the window, her wide eyesembracing all. Adriance leaned back, seeing nothing.
The taxicab finally stopped, nevertheless, at his signal, before alittle red cottage set far back from the road.
"Here?" the chauffeur queried, with incredulous scorn.
"Here," Adriance affirmed, swinging out their two suit-cases and hiswife. He laughed a little at the man's face. "How much?"
The toll pointed Elsie's warning. She made a grimace at her pupil. Hisspirits mounting again, Adriance answered the rebuke by catching herhand to lead her up the absurd, staggering Gothic porch in miniature.
"I'll come back for the baggage," he promised. "Come look, first."
"Is there anything inside?"
"Oh, yes. I----" he looked askance at her. "I bought things, at a shopin Fort Lee, early this morning. I suppose they're all wrong."
She met his diffidence with a smile so warm, so enchanting in its sweet,maternal raillery and indulgence that his heart melted within him. Andthen, as he fumbled with the key, she took from her hand-bag a book anda small glass bottle, and gave them to him.
"What----?" he marvelled.
"Don't you know?" she wondered at him. "'Where was you done raised,man?' Don't you know there is no luck in the house unless the firstthings carried into it are the Bible and the salt?"
He did not know, but he found the superstition of a singular charm.
"Give me the salt, then, and you take the other," he divided theceremony.
"No," she denied quietly. "You should carry the Book, because you willmake the laws. I will take the salt, because I shall keep the hearth."
So they went in, he oddly sobered by the dignity she laid upon him.
There were only two rooms on the ground floor. The one into which theystepped was large and square, with a floor of brick faded to a mellowTuscan red, and walls of soft brown plaster. A brick fireplace was builtagainst the north side; the furnishings comprehended two arm-chairs, around Sheraton table and china closet, a tall wooden clock, and fourrag rugs in red and white. In one corner, modestly retired, a plain dealtable su
pported an oil cook-stove, with an air of decent humility andshrinking from observation. The open door beyond revealed a bed-chamber,also rag-rugged, furnished with a noble meagreness, but displaying afour-posted bed of carved and time-darkened ash. Elsie took a long, fulllook, then regarded her husband with widening eyes.
"Anthony, _where_ did you buy them? And what did you pay for them?"
No one within his memory had ever called Adriance by his unabbreviatedname. It came to him as part of this new life where he was full-grownman and master. And he welcomed the frank comradeship with which sheused it, without a sentimental affectation of shyness.
"At a little place with a sign 'Antiques'," he confessed. "I had passedit in the car. I thought they might do as well as new things, since wehave got to economize. I never bought any furniture before; if theywon't do----"
"They are perfect." The mirth in her eyes deepened. "But you had betterlet me help you, next time we shop economically. Hadn't we better builda fire, first, to drive away the chill? Oh, and is there anything toeat?"
"In the cupboard over there; everything the grocer could think of," hesaid meekly. "I'll go get anything else you say. First, though, I'll rundown to the gate and bring in our suit-cases."
"Do," she approved. "I want an apron. Do you know, you never asked me ifI could cook."
"Can you?"
"Wait and see. What woman thought of the oil-stove?"
"The antiquarian's wife. She said the fireplace was more bother than itwas use and suggested stuffing it with paper to keep the draughts out."
"Well, we will stuff it with fire," she declared.
They built the fire; or rather, Adriance built it, aided by the girl'stactful advice. When the flames were roaring and leaping, she sent himto the nearest shop where lamps could be purchased, the triflingquestion of light having been overlooked.
When he hurried back from the village, the need of light was becomingimminent. Dusky twilight came early here under the edge of the hills.Climbing the steep road, Anthony Adriance looked across theviolet-tinted river toward the chain of lights marking the street whereTony Adriance had lived and idled. Already he knew himself removed,altered; he was interested in keeping on with this thing. Of course, hemust keep on, he had set a barrier blocking retreat; he had taken awife.
He opened the brown door of the shabby little cottage, and stopped.
The fire on the hearth had settled to a warm, rosy steadiness, fillingthe room with its glow and starting velvet shadows that tapestried thesimple place with an airy brocade of shifting patterns. In the centre ofthe room stood the round table, robed in white and gay with the antiqueshop's ware of blue-and-white Wedgewood. The perfume of coffee andfragrance of good food floated on the warm air. The fire snapped atintervals as if from jovial excess of spirits, and a tea-kettle wasbubbling with the furious enthusiasm of all true tea-kettles. It was theroom of his fancy, the unattainable home that Elsie had pictured on thefirst evening he had spoken to her out of his sick heart.
Elsie herself stood beside the hearth. Elsie? He never had seen her likethis. But then, he scarcely had seen her at all except in the severeblack of a nurse's livery.
She had merely taken off her jacket, now, although he did not realizethe fact. Her soft white blouse rolled away from a round, full throatpure in color and smoothness as cream. She was no sylph-slim beauty, buta deep-bosomed, young girl-woman, fashioned with that rich fulness ofcurve and outline that artists once loved, but which Fashion nowdisapproves. Her mouth, too, curved in generous, womanly softness;neither a thin line nor a round rosebud. Her dark hair rippled of itselfaround her forehead and was lustrous in the firelight.
His entrance caught her off guard. He surprised herself in her eyes,before she masked feeling in gayety. And he saw a wistful, frightenedgirl whose trembling excitement matched his own.
The latching of the door behind him ended the brief instant ofrevelation. At once she turned to him the cordial comrade's face heknew.
"Dinner is served," she announced merrily. "At least, it is waiting inthe oven. We have hot biscuits, scrambled eggs, a fifty-eighth varietyof baked beans, and strawberry jam. There is no meat, because you onlyshopped at a grocery, sir. Do you really adore canned oysters, Anthony?"
"I never tasted one," he slowly replied, putting down the packages hehad brought, without taking his gaze from her.
"Well, you bought six tins of them," she shrugged.
He made no pretense of replying, this time, moving across the roomtoward her. He was remembering that she was a bride, who by herconfession loved him, and that he had given her nothing except the goldring compelled by custom; not a caress, not a flower, even, to speak oftenderness and reassurance. He was astounded at himself, appalled byhis degree of selfish absorption. All day she had given him of herunderstanding, her warm companionship, her gracious tact and hearteningcheerfulness, exacting nothing--and he had taken. Oh, yes, he had taken!
Troubled by his silence, her color mounting in a vivid sweep, the girltried to turn aside from his approach.
"We must have a little cat," she essayed diversion. "I hope you likekittens? Purrs should go with crackling logs. Not an Angora or aPersian; just a pussy."
Her voice died away. Very quietly and firmly Adriance had taken her intohis arms.
"I've made a bad beginning," he made grave avowal. "I am learning howmuch I need to learn. And I don't deserve my luck in having you to teachme."
She rested quietly in his arms, as if conceding his right, but she didnot look at him. She was very supple and soft to hold, he found. Therebreathed from her a fresh, faint fragrance like the clean scent ofjust-gathered daffodils, but no perfume that he recognized. She wasindividual even in little things. He wondered what she was thinking. Theuneven rise and fall of her breast timed curiously with the pulse of hisheart, as she leaned there, and the fact affected him unreasonably. Hedid not want her to move; warmth and content were flowing into him.Content, yet---- Suddenly, he knew; a man confronted with a blaze oflight after long groping.
"Elsie!" he cried, his voice sounding through the room his greatamazement. "Elsie! Elsie!"
She looked at him then, putting her two little hands on his breast andforcing herself back against his arm that she might read his face. Buthe would not have it so, compelling her submission to the marvel thathad mastered him. What the church had essayed to do was done, now.Anthony Adriance had taken a wife.
"I love you," he repeated, inarticulate still with wonder, his lipsagainst her cheek. "Why didn't you tell me? I love you."
He never forgot that she met him generously, with no mean reminder ofhis tardiness. She took his surrender, and set no price on her own. Herlips were fresh as a cup lifted to his thirst for good and simplethings; he thought her kiss was to the touch what her eyes were to thegaze, and tried clumsily to tell her so.
When they finally remembered the delayed supper, that meal was in needof repairs. And because now Adriance would not suffer the width of theroom between himself and his wife, he insisted in aiding her in theprocess, thereby delaying matters still further. Nine o'clock had beenstruck by the clock in the corner when they sat down to table, lightedby the new lamp. It had a garnet shade, that lamp, upon which itspurchaser received the compliments of Mrs. Adriance.
She delivered an impromptu lecture on the subject, as the light glowedinto full radiance and illumined her, seated behind it.
"Red, sir, is the color of life. It was the color of the alchemist'sfabled rose, looked for in their mystic cauldrons, because if the ruddyimage formed on the surface of the brew, the bubbling liquid was indeedthe true elixir of youth and immortality. Red is the color of dawn, ofsunset, of a fireside; of bright blood, poured splendidly for a goodcause or daintily glimpsed in a girl's blush. Red are a cardinal'srobes, a Chinese bride's gown, a Spanish bride's flowers. To be kept ina red-draped chamber, in Queen Elizabeth's time, was believed to curebeauty of the smallpox without a scar. Lastly, red is the color of theheart."
"'Lo
rd, keep our heart's-blood red,'" paraphrased Adriance soberly. "Iam not clever like you, but I know red is the color of your own jewels."
"Mine?"
He caught her hands across the table.
"Have you forgotten what stones were likened to the value of a goodwoman? Elsie, Elsie, when I can, I will give you--not diamonds orpearls, but rubies. Rubies, for to-night."
Neither of the two was given to continued sentimentality of speech. Butthe deep happiness, the shining wonder that still dazzled them foundexpression in plans for this new future; mere suggestions for thecomfort of the house or the pleasure of their leisure together. Shementioned a much-discussed book, and he promised to read it aloud toher.
"I've always wanted to read aloud, but I never found anyone who wouldlisten," he told her, over the strawberry jam and coffee. "You can'tescape, so----! You can embroider, and listen."
"Embroider!" She heaped scorn on the word. "Let me inform you, sir, thatthere will be dish-towels to hem, and napkins. Do you know we have onlyone tablecloth, and that has a frightful border, with fringe? Bluefringe? And there are no curtains at the windows. Embroider? I shall_sew_, and listen."
"Well, so long as you listen!" He lighted a cigar and leaned backluxuriously. "What little hands you have!"
She spread them out on the table and seriously contemplated them.
"Most Southerners have. Didn't you ever notice it, even with the men?Down in Louisiana most of us have some French or Spanish blood. But minehave not been do-nothing hands, and I think they show it a little bit."
He stopped her, with a sudden distasteful memory of certain wax-white,wax-smooth and useless hands that almost had laid hold on his life.
"I hope that mine may soon show something. To-morrow I will try tobecome a wage-earner, and start a pay envelope to bring you."
"So soon?"
"Right away. Am I one of the idle rich? The fact is, our grocer tells mechauffeurs are badly needed at a certain factory near the foot of thehill. I think I should rather drive a motor truck than pilot a privatecar, open doors and touch my cap."
She nodded agreement.
"Yes, of course. What factory is it, Anthony?"
He regarded her with a whimsical humor.
"Well, to be exact, it is not a factory unfamiliar to us. It is onewhose sign you often have viewed from the aristocratic side of theHudson, and it is the property of Mr. Anthony Adriance, senior."
"Oh!" startled. "Is, is that--safe?"
"Why not?" he wondered. "We haven't broken any laws, have we? The worsthe could do, if he wanted to do something melodramatic, would be tofire me. But he will not. In the first place, why should he? In thesecond, he knows a trifle more about the natives of Patagonia than heknows about the men who drive his trucks. I don't believe he has been inthis factory for ten years. New York is his end. And I'm giving him asquare deal; he will have a very valuable chauffeur, Mrs. Adriance--onewho can drive a racing-machine, if required!"
She disclosed two dimples he had not previously observed. But her eyeshid from the challenge of his and she rose hastily to clear away thedishes.
"Let them stand," he commanded, man-like.
There she was firm in rebellion, however. Finally they compromised onhis assisting her.
"We must have a dog, too," he decided, when all was neat once more. Heglanced about the fire-bright room with a proprietary air. "One thatwill not eat your kitten."
"With a nice watch-doggy bark?"
"With anything you want!" He turned abruptly and drew her to him."Elsie, suppose I had missed you? What a poor fool I've been! Lastnight---- Why don't you take it out of me? Why don't you make me pay asI deserve?"
She smiled with the delicately-mocking indulgence he was learning toknow and anticipate; it sat upon her youth with so quaint a wisdom.
"Perhaps I am, or will."
"I believe now that I loved you from the first day. I know that I keptthinking about you and considering everything from the point of view Ifancied you would take. You"--with sudden anxiety--"you do not regretcoming with me, Elsie? What were you thinking of, just now, when youreyes darkened? You looked----"
"Of Holly," she answered simply. "I hope his new nurse will play withhim, and cuddle him."
"The baby?" Her fidelity touched him with a warm sense of promise forhis own future. "Yes, I have taken you from him. But, we left him hisfather."
The allusion brought a constraint. The words spoken, Adriance flushedlike a woman and turned his ashamed eyes away from the girl.
"You did not take me from Holly," Elsie hurriedly corrected. "Mrs.Masterson discharged me, night before last. I was to go to-day,anyhow."
"You? Why?"
She hesitated.
"She came to the nursery door while you were speaking to me of tellingHolly the story of Mait' Raoul Galvez. You know, Holly is too much ababy to hear stories, so she understood that you meant--other things.And it seems that once you had spoken to her of that story. She--madeconnections. She accused me of--of flirting with her guests; ofbeing--an improper person."
"Elsie!"
"It is all over. It does not matter, now. But that was how I knew shedid not send you away. Of course she said nothing to tell me; she is tooclever. But, you see I knew so much already; and when I saw she wasjealous even of your speaking to me----!"
The silence continued long. Both were thinking of Lucille Masterson. Asif she feared the man's thoughts, Elsie shrank away from her husband'sclasp, the movement unnoticed by him. Her clear eyes clouded withdoubt, a creeping chill extinguished their glow.
Adriance spoke first, breaking at once the pause and the barrier.
"Once they must have been like this--like us. She would have left Fred,left him down and out, for a new man; and she his wife!"
Disgust was in his voice, wondering contempt. He pressed his own wifehard against his side. But Elsie dragged her arms from the hold thatbound them, and impulsively clasped them about his neck in her firstoffered caress.
"You were thinking _that_?" she cried, fiercely glad in her triumph."Anthony, you were thinking that?"
He stooped his head to meet her glance; standing together, they lookedinto each other's eyes.