CHAPTER XII
NO QUARTER
DURING the time of Jack's absence, Frank Kent passed through a strangestate of mind, one which he did not himself understand. He was bothangry and miserable. Resentment against another human being is alwaysfolly, since one suffers as much, if not more than the other person.
However, Frank did not answer a single one of Jack's letters, althoughshe managed to write him several times, telling of her safe arrival, ofthe kindness which had been shown her along the way, and of CaptainMacDonnell's recognition of her and his pleasure in finding an oldfriend near him. Jack also wrote that there was hope of his partialrecovery, but that he would probably be unable to fight again. She wouldbe able to tell more on her return home.
Two weeks after the day of her departure, Jack came back to Kent House.She had telegraphed when she reached British soil so that her familyknew when to expect her. Frank was not at home when she arrived, so shesaw her children and Olive and Frieda first. Then, after dressing fordinner, she went down into the library alone to wait for her husband.
Jack was very tired from the strain of her trip and from the sights shehad witnessed in the past fourteen days. She felt as if she wereentering a new world in coming back tonight to her home in the peacefulKentish country. Whatever human beings might be suffering inwardly,there were at least no changes in the tranquillity of the blue hills andthe gentle, mist-veiled English landscape.
It had required an effort for Jack to dress, but she did not know inwhat spirit Frank would meet her and did not wish to have him think shewas too much exhausted by the experience which she had wilfully chosenfor herself. She feared that Frank was still aggrieved, because of hisnot having written or sent her a message of any kind, and yet she ratherhoped the reunion with her and the news she brought back would softenhim.
Partly because of her fatigue, partly because it seemed impossible towear gay clothes after those days and nights in the hospital, Jack hadput on a black satin gown which she had had some time. It was madesimply as her evening clothes always were, but the black tulle whichcovered it was caught with jet ornaments on each shoulder and looselybelted in at the waist, falling in beautiful lines to her feet. At herbelt Jack wore a golden rose which the old gardener had brought up tothe house as a special offering. The rose had bloomed that morning inone of the greenhouses. Jack's hair was coiled closely about her smallhead, and she had less color than usual.
She was resting in one of the big library chairs with her eyes closed,when she heard her husband enter the hall, and after making someinquiry, move toward the library door.
At this she rose up at once and ran forward with her arms outstretchedto meet him, her face glowing with happiness.
"Oh, Frank, I am so glad to be at home again. It has all been sodistressing. Poor Bryan is going to get well, but I fear he will hate itwhen he does, for he may never walk again. He does not know this yet."
Frank turned his eyes so that he could not see Jack's beauty norappreciate her warm sweetness so close beside him.
"I am horribly sorry for Bryan," he replied. But he made no effort tokiss Jack or to express the least pleasure in her return. Instead, hewalked away a few steps and began taking off his overcoat, which he hadnot removed before.
"You are still angry with me, Frank?" Jack queried, though the questionwas scarcely a necessary one. "You have not yet seen that I had theright to judge for myself in this thing about Bryan? After all, whatpossible wrong have I done? And I did give Bryan pleasure; he does notdream, of course, that I went to him without your consent."
Although Frank still remained silent, Jack's sweetness did not deserther. She followed after him, in spite of the fact that he had turned hisback upon her.
"After all, Frank, even if you do continue to disapprove of me and tothink I did wrong to disobey you, won't you make friends with me? Pleasesay I'm forgiven?"
At this Jack smiled and stood with her hands clasped together againstthe soft, black folds of her dress.
In fact, she had not yet appreciated the extent of Frank's anger againsther, nor the unbending quality of his nature. Though they had beenmarried a number of years, this was the first serious difficulty betweenthem. Jack had too great an admiration for her husband, too deep abelief in him, to think that he could continue to sulk and to hurt herthrough a kind of stupid obstinacy.
And for a single instant Frank did hesitate, but the next he made up hismind that unless Jack was made to realize the extent of his displeasureshe would probably never yield to him again. He honestly believed thathe had the right to be the master in his own family.
"I presume, Jack, that you consider it a very simple matter for me tosay I forgive you and to overlook your utter disregard of my wishes, andyour deception in the matter. But I cannot see the thing in that light.You have not only wounded me, but you have made me ridiculous. To say Iforgive you, or feel as I did before would not be the truth."
"Very well, Frank," Jack answered quietly and went out of the room.
A little later she came down to dinner, revealing no sign of what hadtaken place between herself and her husband and hoping that Frieda andOlive would not guess that she was still unforgiven. Frank's manner wasperfectly polite and they talked freely of Captain MacDonnell and of thetragedy of his recovering only to find his work as a soldier ended.
Afterwards, Jack excused herself early in the evening, because, ofcourse, she had every reason to feel weary.
But even if Frieda and Olive did not grasp the situation at once, theycould not continue to remain long in ignorance, for Jack and Frank didnot return to their old intimacy and devotion.
But, as the days went on, this was, perhaps, as much Jack's fault as herhusband's.
Never before had she ever made an overture to any human being who hadnot responded. Moreover, she could not tell Frank that she was sorry forwhat she had done, for she was not sorry, nor did she regret her ownaction. She was merely disillusioned concerning her husband.
Always Jack had said that she had more of the Indian in her than Oliveever had, in spite of Olive's upbringing. By this she meant that for onething she could hide better the things that hurt her. Yet in a way shewas difficult for anyone to approach on an intimate subject at thistime, certainly neither Olive nor Frieda made any mention that they sawher continuing trouble with Frank.
Unconsciously Jack held her head up before people unfailingly. Nooutsider would have guessed at any change. Only those who cared for herdeeply realized how she was hurt by Frank's attitude.
Several times it occurred to Frank that perhaps he and Jack were makinga mistake to allow their estrangement to go on too long. The next timehis wife asked his pardon Lord Kent had concluded to forgive her.
Moreover, he and Frieda had an interview which annoyed and amused him,but which he did not forget then, or ever afterwards.
It was one Sunday afternoon in early March, an unexpected spring-likeday, and he and Frieda were taking a motor ride together. They had onlyone small car on the estate, having sent the large one to be turned intoan ambulance.
After their midday dinner Frank had found himself in need of diversion,Olive and Jack having explained that they were going to see a friend whowas ill. And as a matter of fact Frieda diverted Frank from seriousaffairs more than any other grown up person he knew and consequently hefell in readily with her suggestion for the ride. He had not thefaintest idea that she was not in a friendly mood toward him, for Friedahad wisely concealed the fact, although in reality she was thoroughlyenraged.
It seemed to her that Frank's treatment of Jack was almost unpardonable.It is true that she, perhaps, had rather an exaggerated opinion of hersister's virtues, but then Jack had been a kind of mother to her always.Although they quarreled a little now and then, as most sisters do, itwas beyond Frieda's comprehension that anyone could believe Jack wouldwilfully do wrong, or be forced to suffer the consequences. Moreover,what Frieda still thought of as her own "misfortune" made herparticularly "touchy" at pres
ent.
However, she and Frank started off cheerfully, Frank admiring anespecially pretty bright blue motor coat and small close fitting bluesilk hat, which Frieda had purchased in New York a few days beforesailing. Nevertheless Frieda had already planned to have a talk withFrank before their return and only awaited the proper opportunity.
She was quiet at first, allowing her brother-in-law to tell her storiesabout the country and his neighbors, stories in which she was really notmuch interested. But Frieda smiled and answered, "yes and no," at theproper times, and this was what Frank really wished. Most men wouldrather talk intimately to women than to other men and Frank had missedhis long hours of conversation with Jack more than he appreciated.
Yet Frieda's inattention finally forced itself upon his notice, so thather brother-in-law turned and smiled at her.
"What are you thinking about, Frieda? Certainly not of what I just saidto you."
Frieda turned her large blue eyes with their heavy golden lashes halfveiling them toward her companion.
"Still I was thinking of you, Frank," she answered, smiling, "and thatis the attention men like best, isn't it?"
Lord Kent laughed. "Perhaps as a matter of vanity, yes, Frieda? But ofcourse a good deal depends upon what one is thinking. What were youthinking of me?"
"Oh, only how unlike you and Henry are," she replied sweetly.
However, Frank understood something of her hidden meaning, for heflushed.
"Well, considering the fact that you didn't find it possible to continueto live with 'Henry,' I suppose I ought to be flattered. Only as amatter of fact, Frieda, I admire Professor Russell very much."
This time Frieda flushed, realizing that Frank had scored.
"Yet even though that is true, Frank, Henry never took the tone with meof insisting that he was always right and I was always in the wrong. Doyou know, Frank, I am beginning to think--oh well, Henry was never sohorrid to me as you are to Jack. He isn't a bit of a bully."
"So you think I am 'horrid' to Jack and a bully besides, do you,Frieda?" Frank returned grimly. He was angry, but not as angry as hefelt he had the right to be. Somehow he could not manage to get into aviolent state of mind with his youthful sister-in-law.
Frieda nodded energetically in response, without appearing the least bitfrightened.
"Of course you are going to think I am interfering, Frank, and no oneever pays any real attention to what I say, but I just thought I'd tellyou anyhow. You are making a big mistake. Of course I realize that youare not so silly as not to appreciate Jack, but I don't believe youhave ever thought what it might mean to lose her. You see she isn't likemost women, she really does not know how to quarrel for any length oftime. But when she was hurt or seriously angry as a girl she used tokeep still for a long time not saying a word. Then she used to dosomething unexpected." Frieda's voice shook a little with strongerfeeling than she often showed.
"I've been afraid lately that Jack might do something queer now,something no one of us dreams she would think of doing. She is so veryunhappy. You remember, Frank, don't you, what a long time it took you towin Jack? I wonder if it might not take you even longer to win her backagain!"
Frank stiffened. "I cannot discuss my relations with Jack, even withyou, Frieda. That is a matter between us alone."
Frieda nodded pensively.
"Certainly I appreciate your point of view, Frank, from my own sadexperience."