The Cords of Vanity Part 40

I read no further. "Oh, Stella! they have all forgotten. They all insist to-day that you were an angel, and they have come almost to believe that you habitually flew about the world in a night-gown, with an Easter lily in your hand--But I remember, dear. I know you'd scratch her eyes out. I know you'd do it now, if only you were able, because you loved this Peter Blagden."

Thereafter I must have wasted a full quarter of an hour in recalling all sorts of bygone unimportant happenings, and I was not bothering one way or the other about Avis ...

3

In the moonlighted garden I found Bettie. But with her was Josiah Clarriker, Fairhaven's leading business-man. He shook hands, and whatever delight he may have felt at seeing me was admirably controlled.

"Now don't let me interfere with your eloquence," I urged, "but go right on with the declamation."

"I make no pretension to eloquence, Mr. Townsend. I was merely recalling to Miss Hamlyn's attention the beautiful lines of our immortal poet, Owen Meredith, which run, as I remember them:

"'I thought of the dress she wore that time That we stood under the cypress-tree together, In that land, in that clime, And I turned and looked, and she was sitting there In the box next to the stage, and dressed In that muslin dress, with that full soft hair And that jessamine blossom at her breast.'"

"But I am not permitted to wear flowers when Mr. Townsend is about,"

said Bettie. "Did you know, Jo, that he is crazy about that too?"

"Well--! Anyhow, Meredith is full of very beautiful sentiments," said Mr. Clarriker, "and I have always been particularly fond of that piece.

It is called _'Ox Italians.'_"

"Yes, I have been previously affected by it," said I, "and very deeply moved."

"And so--as I was about to observe, Miss Hamlyn,--you will notice that the poet Meredith gowned one of the most beautiful characters he ever created in white, and laid great stress upon the fact that her beauty was immeasurably enhanced by the dainty simplicity of her muslin dress.

This fabric, indeed, suits all types of faces and figures, and is Economical too, especially the present popular mercerised waistings and vestings that are fast invading the realm of silks. We show at our Emporium an immense quant.i.ty of these beautiful goods, in more than a hundred styles, elaborate enough for the most formal occasions, at fifty and seventy-five cents a yard; and--as I was about to observe, Miss Hamlyn,--I would indeed esteem it a favour should you permit me to send up a few samples to-morrow, from which to make a selection at, I need not add, my personal expense.

"You see, Mr. Townsend," he continued, more inclusively, "we have no florists in Fairhaven, and I have heard that candy--" He talked on, hygienically now....

4

"And that," said I, when Mr. Clarriker had gone, "is what you are actually considering! I have always believed d.i.c.kens invented that man to go into one of the latter chapters of _Edwin Drood_. It is the solitary way of explaining certain people,--that they were invented by some f.a.gged novelist who unfortunately died before he finished the book they were to be locked up in. As it was, they got loose, to annoy you by their incredibility. No actual human being, you know, would suggest a white s.h.i.+rtwaist as a subst.i.tute for a box of candy."

"Oh, I have seen worse," said Bettie, as in meditation. "It's just Jo's way of expressing the fact that I am stupendously beautiful in white.

Poor dear, my loveliness went to his head, I suppose, and got tangled with next week's advertis.e.m.e.nt for the _Gazette_. Anyhow, he is a deal more considerate than you. For instance, I was crazy to go to the show on Tuesday night, and Josiah Clarriker was the only person who thought to ask me, even though he is one of those little fireside companions who always get so syrupy whenever they take you anywhere that you simply can't stand it. The combination both prevented my acceptance and accentuated his devotion; and quite frankly, Robin, I am thinking of him, for at bottom Jo is a dear."

I laid one hand on each of Bettie's shoulders; and it was in my mind at the time that this was the gesture of a comrade, and had not any s.e.xual tinge at all. I wished that Bettie had better teeth, of course, but that could not be helped.

"You are to marry me as soon as may be possible," said I, "and preferably to-morrow afternoon. Avis has thrown me over, G.o.d bless her, and I am free,--until of course you take charge of me. There was a clever woman once who told me I was not fit to be the captain of my soul, though I would make an admirable lieutenant. She was right. It is understood you are to henpeck me to your heart's content and to my ultimate salvation."

"I shall a.s.suredly not marry you," observed Miss Hamlyn, "until you have at least asked me to do so. And besides, how dared she throw you over--!"

"But I don't intend to ask you, for I have not a single bribe to offer.

I merely intend to marry you. I am a ne'er-do-well, a debauchee, a tippler, a compendium of all the vices you care to mention. I am not a bit in love with you, and as any woman will forewarn you, I am sure to make you a vile husband. Your solitary chance is to bully me into temperance and propriety and common-sense, with precisely seven million probabilities against you, because I am a seasoned and accomplished liar. Can you do that bullying, Bettie,--and keep it up, I mean?"

And she was silent for a while. "Robin," she said, at last, "you'll never understand why women like you. You will always think it is because they admire you for some quality or another. It is really because they pity you. You are such a baby, riding for a fall--No, I don't mean the boyishness you trade upon. I have known for a long while all that was just put on. And, oh, how hard you've tried to be a boy of late!"

"And I thought I had fooled you, Bettie! Well, I never could. I am sorry, though, if I have been annoyingly clumsy--"

"But you were doing it for me," she said. "You were doing it because you thought I'd like it. Oh, can't you understand that I _know_ you are worthless, and that you have never loved any human being in all your life except that flibbertigibbet Stella Blagden, and that I know, too, you have so rarely failed me! If you were an admirable person, or a person with commendable instincts, or an unselfish person, or if you were even in love with me, it wouldn't count of course. It is because you are none of these things that it counts for so much to see you honest with me--sometimes,--and even to see you scheming and play-acting--and so transparently!--just to bring about a little pleasure for me. Oh, Robin, I am afraid that nowadays I love you _because_ of your vices!"

"And I you because of your virtues," said I; "so that there is no possible apprehension of either affection ever going into bankruptcy.

Therefore the affair is settled; and we will be married in November."

"Well," Bettie said, "I suppose that somebody has to break you of this habit of getting married next November--"

Then, and only then, my hands were lifted from her shoulders. And we began to talk composedly of more impersonal matters.

5

It was two days later that John Charteris came to Fairhaven; and I met him the same afternoon upon Cambridge street. The little man stopped short and in full view of the public achieved what, had he been a child, were most properly describable as making a face at me.

"That," he explained, "expresses the involuntary confusion of Belial on re-encountering the anchorite who escaped his diabolical machinations.

But, oh, dear me! haven't you been translated yet? Why, I thought the carriage would have called long ago, just as it did for Elijah."

"Now, don't be an a.s.s, John. I _was_ rather idiotic, I suppose--"

"Of course you were," he said, as we shook hands. "It is your unfailing charm. You silly boy, I came from the pleasantest sort of house-party at Matocton because I heard you were here, and I have been foolish enough to miss you. Anne and the others don't arrive until October. Oh, you adorable child, I have read the last book, and every one of the short stories as well, and I want to tell you that in their own peculiar line the two volumes are masterpieces. Anne wept and chuckled over them, and so did I, with an equal lack of restraint; only it was over the n.o.ble and self-sacrificing portions that Anne wept, and she laughed at the places where you were droll intentionally. Whereas I--!! Well, we will let the aposiopesis stand."

"Of course," I sulkily observed, "if you have simply come to Fairhaven to make fun of me, I can only pity your limitations."

He spoke in quite another voice. "You silly boy, it was not at all for that. I think you must know I have read what you have published thus far with something more than interest; but I wanted to tell you this in so many words. _Afield_ is not perhaps an impeccable masterwork, if one may be thus brutally frank; but the woman--modeled after discretion will not inquire whom,--is distinctly good. And what, with you only twenty-five, does _A field_ not promise! Child, you have found your metier. Now I shall look forward to the accomplishment of what I have always felt sure that you could do. I am very, very glad. More so than I can say. And I had thought you must know this without my saying it."

The man was sincere. And I was very much pleased, and remembered what invaluable help he could give me on my unfinished book, and what fun it would be to go over the ma.n.u.script with him. And, in fine, we became again, upon the spot as it were, the very best of friends.

6

It was excellent to have Charteris to talk against. The little man had many tales to tell me of those dissolute gay people we had known and frolicked with; indeed, I think that he was trying to allure me back to the old circles, for he preoccupied his life by scheming to bring about by underhand methods some perfectly unimportant consummation, which very often a plain word would have secured at once. But now he swore he was not "making tea."

That had always been a byword between us, by the way, since I applied to him the phrase first used of Alexander Pope--"that he could not make tea without a conspiracy." And it may be that in this case Charteris spoke the truth, and had come to Fairhaven just for the pleasure of seeing me, for certainly he must have had some reason for leaving the Musgraves'

house-party so abruptly.

"You are very well rid of the Hardresses," he adjudged. "Did I tell you of the male one's exhibition of jealousy last year! I can a.s.sure you that the fellow now entertains for me precisely the same affection I have always borne toward cold lamb. It is the real tragedy of my life that Anne is ethically incapable of letting a week pa.s.s without partaking of a leg of mutton. She is not particularly fond of it, and indeed I never encountered anybody who was; she has simply been reared with the notion that 'people' always have mutton once a week. What, have you never noticed that with 'people,' to eat mutton once a week is a sort of guarantee of respectability? I do not refer to chops of course, which are not wholly inconsistent with depravity. But the ability to eat mutton in its roasted form, by some odd law of nature, connotes the habit of paying your pew-rent regularly and of changing your flannels on the proper date. However, I was telling you about Jasper Hardress--" And Charteris repeated the story of their imbroglio in such a fas.h.i.+on that it sounded farcical.

"But, after all, John, you _did_ make love to her."

"I have forgotten what was exactly the last observation of the lamented Julius Caesar," Mr. Charteris leisurely observed,--"though I remember that at the time it impressed me as being uncommonly appropriate--But to get back: do you not see that this clause ought to come here, at the end of the sentence? And, child, on all my ancient bended knees, I implore you to remember that 'genuine' does not mean the same thing as 'real'...."

7

Meanwhile he and Bettie got on together a deal better than I had ever antic.i.p.ated.

Charteris, though, received my confidence far too lightly. "You are going to marry her! Why, naturally! Ever since I encountered you, you have been 'going to marry' somebody or other. It is odd I should have written about the Foolish Prince so long before I knew you. But then, _I_ helped to mould you--a little--"

And resolutely Bettie said the most complimentary things about him. But I trapped her once.

"Still," I observed, when he had gone, and she had finished telling me how delightful Mr. Charteris was, "still he shan't ever come to _our_ house, shall he?"