XII
Severing Old Ties.
Returning from the matinee, Belle and her friend Lou Dawson, beforeentering their house, crossed over to Fanny's. Mrs. Worthington triedthe door and finding it fastened, rang the bell, then commenced tobeat a tattoo upon the pane with her knuckles; an ingenuous mannerwhich she had of announcing her identity. Fanny opened to themherself, and the three walked into the parlor.
"I haven't seen you for a coon's age, Fanny," commenced Belle, "whereon earth have you been keeping yourself?"
"You saw me yesterday breakfast time, when you came to borrow thewrapper pattern," returned Fanny, in serious resentment to herfriend's exaggeration.
"And much good the old wrapper pattern did me: a mile too small everyway, no matter how much I let out the seams. But see here--"
"Belle's the biggest idiot about her size: there's no convincing hershe's not a sylph."
"_Thank_ you, Mrs. Dawson."
"Well, it's a fact. Didn't you think Furgeson's scales were all wrongthe other day because you weighed a hundred and eighty pounds?"
"O that's the day I had that heavy rep on."
"Heavy nothing. We were coming over last night, Fanny, but we hadcompany," continued Mrs. Dawson.
"Who d'you have?" asked Fanny mechanically and glad of the respite.
"Bert Rodney and Mr. Grant. They're so anxious to meet you. I'd 'asent over for you, but Belle--"
"See here, Fanny, what the mischief was Dave Hosmer doing here to-day,and going down town with you and all that sort o' thing?"
Fanny flushed uneasily. "Have you seen the evening paper?" she asked.
"How d'you want us to see the paper? we just come from the matinee."
"David came yesterday," Fanny said working nervously at the windowshade. "He'd wrote me a note the postman brought right after you leftwith the pattern. When you saw us getting on the car, we were goingdown to Dr. Martin's, and we've got married again."
Mrs. Dawson uttered a long, low whistle by way of comment. Mrs.Worthington gave vent to her usual "Well I'll be switched," which shewas capable of making expressive of every shade of astonishment, fromthe lightest to the most pronounced; at the same time unfastening thebridle of her bonnet which plainly hindered her free respiration aftersuch a shock.
"Say that Fanny isn't sly, after that, Belle."
"Sly? My God, she's a fool! If ever a woman had a snap! and to go towork and let a man get around her like that."
Mrs. Worthington seemed powerless to express herself in anything butdisconnected exclamations.
"What are you going to do, Fanny?" asked Lou, who having aired all theastonishment which she cared to show, in her whistle, was collectedenough to want her natural curiosity satisfied.
"David's living down South. I guess we'll go down there pretty soon.Soon's he can get things fixed up here."
"Where--down South?"
"Oh, I don't know. Somewheres in Louisiana."
"It's to be hoped in New Orleans," spoke Belle didactically, "that'sthe only decent place in Louisiana where a person could live."
"No, 'tain't in New Orleans. He's got a saw mill somewheres downthere."
"Heavens and earth! a saw mill?" shrieked Belle. Lou was lookingcalmly resigned to the startling news.
"Oh, I ain't going to live in a saw mill. I wisht you'd all let mealone, any way," she returned pettishly. "There's a lady keeps aplantation, and that's where he lives."
"Well of all the rigmaroles! a lady, and a saw mill and a plantation.It's my opinion that man could make you believe black's white, FannyLarimore."
As Hosmer approached his house, he felt mechanically in his pocket forhis latch key; so small a trick having come back to him with the oldhabit of misery. Of course he found no key. His ring startled Fanny,who at once sprang from her seat to open the door for him; but havingtaken a few steps, she hesitated and irresolutely re-seated herself.It was only his second ring that the servant unamiably condescended toanswer.
"So you're going to take Fanny away from us, Mr. Hosmer," said Belle,when he had greeted them and seated himself beside Mrs. Dawson on thesmall sofa that stood between the door and window. Fanny sat at theadjoining window, and Mrs. Worthington in the center of the room;which was indeed so small a room that any one of them might havereached out and almost touched the hand of the others.
"Yes, Fanny has agreed to go South with me," he answered briefly."You're looking well, Mrs. Worthington."
"Oh, Law yes, I'm never sick. As I tell Mr. Worthington, he'll neverget rid of me, unless he hires somebody to murder me. But I tell youwhat, you came pretty near not having any Fanny to take away with you.She was the sickest woman! Did you tell him about it, Fanny? Come tothink of it, I guess the climate down there'll be the very thing tobring her round."
Mrs. Dawson without offering apology interrupted her friend to inquireof Hosmer if his life in the South were not of the most interesting,and begging that he detail them something of it; with a look toindicate that she felt the deepest concern in anything that touchedhim.
A masculine presence had always the effect of rousing Mrs. Dawson intoan animation which was like the glow of a slumbering ember, when astrong pressure of air is brought to bear upon it.
Hosmer had always considered her an amiable woman, with ratherdelicate perceptions; frivolous, but without the vulgarisms of Mrs.Worthington, and consequently a less objectionable friend for Fanny.He answered, looking down into her eyes, which were full ofattentiveness.
"My life in the South is not one that you would think interesting. Ilive in the country where there are no distractions such as you ladiescall amusements--and I work pretty hard. But it's the sort of lifethat one grows attached to and finds himself longing for again if hehave occasion to change it."
"Yes, it must be very satisfying," she answered; for the momentperfectly sincere.
"Oh very!" exclaimed Mrs. Worthington, with a loud and aggressivelaugh. "It would just suit you to a T, Lou, but how it's going tosatisfy Fanny! Well, I've got nothing to say about it, thanks be; itdon't concern me."
"If Fanny finds that she doesn't like it after a fair trial, she hasthe privilege of saying so, and we shall come back again," he saidlooking at his wife whose elevation of eyebrow, and droop of mouthgave her the expression of martyred resignation, which St. Lawrencemight have worn, when invited to make himself comfortable on thegridiron--so had Mrs. Worthington's words impressed her with the forceof their prophetic meaning.
Mrs. Dawson politely hoped that Hosmer would not leave before Jackcame home; it would distress Jack beyond everything to return and findthat he had missed an old friend whom he thought so much of.
Hosmer could not say precisely when they would leave. He was inpresent negotiation with a person who wanted to rent the house,furnished; and just as soon as he could arrange a few businessdetails, and Fanny could gather such belongings as she wished to takewith her they would go.
"You seem mighty struck on Dave Hosmer, all of a sudden," remarkedMrs. Worthington to her friend, as the two crossed over the street. "Afeller without any more feelings than a stick; it's what I always saidabout him."
"Oh, I always did like Hosmer," replied Mrs. Dawson. "But I thought hehad more sense than to tie himself to that little gump again, afterhe'd had the luck to get rid of her."
A few days later Jack came home. His return was made palpable to theentire neighborhood; for no cab ever announced itself with quite thedash and clatter and bang of door that Jack's cabs did.
The driver had staggered behind him under the weight of the hugeyellow valise, and had been liberally paid for the service.
Immediately the windows were thrown wide open, and the lace curtainsdrawn aside until no smallest vestige of them remained visible fromthe street. A condition of things which Mrs. Worthington upstairsbitterly resented, and naturally, spoiling as it necessarily did, thegeneral _coup d'oeil_ of the flat to passers-by. But Mrs. Dawson hadwon her husband's esteem by just such acts as this one of amiable
permission to ventilate the house according to methods of his own andessentially masculine; regardless of dust that might be flying, or sunthat might be shining with disastrous results to the parlor carpet.
Clouds of tobacco smoke were seen to issue from the open windows.Those neighbors whose openings commanded a view of the Dawson'salley-gate might have noted the hired girl starting for the grocerywith unusual animation of step, and returning with her basket wellstocked with beer and soda bottles--a provision made against a needfor "dutch-cocktails," likely to assail Jack during his hours ofdomesticity.
In the evening the same hired girl, breathless from the multiplicityof errands which she had accomplished during the day, appeared at theHosmers with a message that Mrs. Dawson wanted them to "come over."
They were preparing to leave on the morrow, but concluded that theycould spare a few moments in which to bid adieu to their friends.
Jack met them at the very threshold, with warm and heartyhand-shaking, and loud protest when he learned that they had not cometo spend the evening and that they were going away next day.
"Great Scott! you're not leaving to-morrow? And I ain't going to havea chance to get even with Mrs. Hosmer on that last deal? By Jove, sheknows how to do it," he said, addressing Hosmer and holding Fannyfamiliarly by the elbow. "Drew to the middle, sir, and hang me, if shedidn't fill. Takes a woman to do that sort o' thing; and me a layingfor her with three aces. Hello there, girls! here's Hosmer and Fanny,"in response to which summons his wife and Mrs. Worthington issued fromthe depths of the dining-room, where they had been engaged inpreparing certain refreshments for the expected guests.
"See here, Lou, we'll have to fix it up some way to go and see themoff to-morrow. If you'd manage to lay over till Thursday I could joinyou as far as Little Rock. But no, that's a fact," he addedreflectively, "I've got to be in Cincinnati on Thursday."
They had all entered the parlor, and Mrs. Worthington suggested thatHosmer go up and make a visit to her husband, whom he would find upthere "poring over those everlasting books."
"I don't know what's got into Mr. Worthington lately," she said, "he'sgetting that religious. If it ain't the Bible he's poring over, wellit's something or other just as bad."
The brightly burning light guided Hosmer to the kitchen, where hefound Lorenzo Worthington seated beside his student lamp at the table,which was covered with a neat red cloth. On the gas-stove was spread asimilar cloth and the floor was covered with a shining oil-cloth.
Mr. Worthington was startled, having already forgotten that his wifehad told him of Hosmer's return to St. Louis.
"Why, Mr. Hosmer, is this you? come, come into the parlor, this is noplace," shaking Hosmer's hand and motioning towards the parlor.
"No, it's very nice and cozy here, and I have only a moment to stay,"said Hosmer, seating himself beside the table on which the other hadlaid his book, with his spectacles between the pages to mark hisplace. Mr. Worthington then did a little hemming and hawingpreparatory to saying something fitting the occasion; not wishing tobe hasty in offering the old established form of congratulation, in acase whose peculiarity afforded him no precedential guide. Hosmer cameto his relief by observing quite naturally that he and his wife hadcome over to say good-bye, before leaving for the South, adding "nodoubt Mrs. Worthington has told you."
"Yes, yes, and I'm sure we're very sorry to lose you; that is, Mrs.Larimore--I should say Mrs. Hosmer. Isabella will certainly regret herdeparture, I see them always together, you know."
"You cling to your old habit, I see, Mr. Worthington," said Hosmer,indicating his meaning by a motion of the hand towards the book on thetable.
"Yes, to a certain extent. Always within the forced limits, youunderstand. At this moment I am much interested in tracing the historyof various religions which are known to us; those which have died out,as well as existing religions. It is curious, indeed, to note thecircumstances of their birth, their progress and inevitable death;seeming to follow the course of nations in such respect. And thesimilitude which stamps them all, is also a feature worthy of study.You would perhaps be surprised, sir, to discover the points ofresemblance which indicate in them a common origin. To observe theslight differences, indeed technical differences, distinguishing theIslam from the Hebrew, or both from the Christian religion. The creedsare obviously ramifications from the one deep-rooted trunk which wecall religion. Have you ever thought of this, Mr. Hosmer?"
"No, I admit that I've not gone into it. Homeyer would have me thinkthat all religions are but mythological creations invented to satisfya species of sentimentality--a morbid craving in man for the unknownand undemonstrable."
"That is where he is wrong; where I must be permitted to differ fromhim. As you would find, my dear sir, by following carefully thehistory of mankind, that the religious sentiment is implanted, a trueand legitimate attribute of the human soul--with peremptory right toits existence. Whatever may be faulty in the creeds--that makes nodifference, the foundation is there and not to be dislodged. Homeyer,as I understand him from your former not infrequent references, is anIconoclast, who would tear down and leave devastation behind him;building up nothing. He would deprive a clinging humanity of thesupports about which she twines herself, and leave her helpless andsprawling upon the earth."
"No, no, he believes in a natural adjustment," interrupted Hosmer. "Inan innate reserve force of accommodation. What we commonly call lawsin nature, he styles accidents--in society, only arbitrary methods ofexpediency, which, when they outlive their usefulness to an advancingand exacting civilization, should be set aside. He is a littleimpatient to always wait for the inevitable natural adjustment."
"Ah, my dear Mr. Hosmer, the world is certainly to-day not prepared tostand the lopping off and wrenching away of old traditions. She musttake her stand against such enemies of the conventional. Take religionaway from the life of man--"
"Well, I knew it--I was just as sure as preaching," burst out Mrs.Worthington, as she threw open the door and confronted the twomen--resplendent in "baby blue" and much steel ornamentation. "As Itell Mr. Worthington, he ought to turn Christian Brother or somethingand be done with it."
"No, no, my dear; Mr. Hosmer and I have merely been interchanging afew disjointed ideas."
"I'll be bound they were disjointed. I guess Fanny wants you, Mr.Hosmer. If you listen to Mr. Worthington he'll keep you here tilldaylight with his ideas."
Hosmer followed Mrs. Worthington down-stairs and into Mrs. Dawson's.As he entered the parlor he heard Fanny laughing gaily, and saw thatshe stood near the sideboard in the dining-room, just clicking herglass of punch to Jack Dawson's, who was making a gay speech on theoccasion of her new marriage.
They did not leave when they had intended. Need the misery of that oneday be told?
But on the evening of the following day, Fanny peered with pale,haggard face from the closed window of the Pullman car as it movedslowly out of Union depot, to see Lou and Jack Dawson smiling andwaving good-bye, Belle wiping her eyes and Mr. Worthington lookingblankly along the line of windows, unable to see them without hisspectacles, which he had left between the pages of his Schopenhauer onthe kitchen table at home.
PART II