Together Part 22

"I don't know what to believe," the older woman replied. "I know it's terrible,--it's like war!"

"Of course it's war, and men must do the fighting."

"And fight fair."

"Of course,--as fair as the others. What are you driving at?"

"I wonder if the A. and P. always fights fair?"

"It isn't a charitable organization, my dear.... But Steve and John are just officers. They don't have to decide. They take their orders from headquarters and carry them out."

"No matter what they are?"

"Naturally,--that's what officers are for, isn't it? If they don't want to carry them out, they must resign."

"But they can't always resign,"

"Why not?"

"Because of you and me and the children!"

"Oh, don't worry about it! They don't worry. That's what I like a man for.

If he's good for anything, he isn't perpetually pawing himself over."

This did not seem wholly to satisfy Alice, but she leaned over Isabelle and kissed her:--

"Only get well, my dear, and paw some of your notions over,--it won't do you any harm!"

That evening when the Lanes were alone, after they had discussed the topics that Isabelle had enumerated, with the addition of the arrangements for the trip to the Springs, Isabelle asked casually:--

"John, is it easy to be honest in business?"

"That depends," he replied guardedly, "on the business and the man. Why?"

"You don't believe what those magazine articles say about the Senator and the others?"

"I don't read them."

"Why?"

"Because the men who write them don't understand the facts, and what they know they distort--for money."

"Um," she observed thoughtfully. "But are there facts--like those? _You_ know the facts."

"I don't know all of them."

"Are those you know straight or crooked?" she asked, feeling considerable interest in the question, now that it was started.

"I don't know what you would mean by crooked,--what is it you want to know?"

"Are you honest?" she asked with mild curiosity. "I mean in the way of railroad business. Of course I know you are other ways."

Lane smiled at her childlike seriousness.

"I always try to do what seems to me right under the circ.u.mstances."

"But the circ.u.mstances are sometimes--queer?"

"The circ.u.mstances are usually complex."

"The circ.u.mstances are complex," she mused aloud. "I'll tell Alice that."

"What has Alice to do with it?"

"She seems bothered about the circ.u.mstances--that's all,--the circ.u.mstances and Steve."

"I guess Steve can manage the circ.u.mstances by himself," he replied coldly, turning over the evening paper. "She probably reads the magazines and believes all she hears."

"All intelligent women read the magazines--and believe what they hear or else what their husbands tell them," she rejoined flippantly. Presently, as Lane continued to look over the stock page of the paper, she observed:--

"Don't you suppose that in Vickers's case the circ.u.mstances may have been--complex?"

Lane looked at her steadily.

"I can't see what that has to do with the question."

"Oh?" she queried mischievously. He considered the working of her mind as merely whimsical, but she had a sense of logical triumph over the man.

Apparently he would make allowances of "circ.u.mstances" in business, his life, that he would not admit in private affairs. As he kissed her and was turning out the light, before joining the Colonel for another cigar, she asked:--

"Supposing that you refused to be involved in circ.u.mstances that were--complex? What would happen?"

"What a girl!" he laughed cheerfully. "For one thing I think we should not be going to the Springs to-morrow in a private car, or buying the Jackson house--or any other. Now put it all out of your head and have a good rest."

He kissed her again, and she murmured wearily:--

"I'm so useless,--they should kill things like me! How can you love me?"

She was confident that he did love her, that like so many husbands he had accepted her invalidism cheerfully, with an unconscious chivalry for the wife who instead of flowering forth in marriage had for the time being withered. His confidence, in her sinking moods like this, that it would all come right, buoyed her up. And John was a wise man as well as a good husband; the Colonel trusted him, admired him. Alice Johnston's doubts slipped easily from her mind. Nevertheless, there were now two subjects of serious interest that husband and wife would always avoid,--Vickers, and business honesty!

She lay there feeling weak and forlorn before the journey, preoccupied with herself. These days she was beset with a tantalizing sense that life was slipping past her just beyond her reach, flowing like a mighty river to issues that she was not permitted to share. And while she was forced to lie useless on the bank, her youth, her own life, was somehow running out, too.

Just what it was that she was missing she could not say,--something alluring, something more than her husband's activity, than her child, something that made her stretch out longing hands in the dark.... She would not submit to invalidism.

CHAPTER XIX

The Virginia mountains made a narrow horizon of brilliant blue. On their lower slopes the misty outlines of early spring had begun with the budding trees. Here and there the feathery forest was spotted by dashes of pink coolness where the wild peach and plum had blossomed, and the faint blue of the rhododendron bushes mounted to the sky-line. The morning was brilliant after a rain and the fresh mountain air blew invigoratingly, as Isabelle left the car on her husband's arm. With the quick change of mood of the nervous invalid she already felt stronger, more hopeful. There was color in her thin face, and her eyes had again the vivacious sparkle that had been so largely her charm.