Temple Bailey

“ Jane changed to a loose straight frock of orange cotton, and without a hat, feeling actual physical freedom in the breaking of her bonds, she swung along the path to the little grove. It was aromatic with the warm scent of the pines, and there was a cool shade in the heart of it. Jane had brought a bag of stockings to mend, and sat down to her homely task, smiling a little as she thought of the contrast between this afternoon and yesterday, when she had sat on the rim of the fountain and watched Adelaide and the peacock. She had no feeling of rancor against Adelaide. ”

“ Loneliness. And Jane would be with Frederick Towne.
He had for Jane a feeling of hopeless adoration. She would never be his. For how could he try to keep her? “I’ll be a gull over the sea—a ship in full sail—a gypsy on the road—never a ghost in a fog.”
And he was just a ghost in a fog! Oh, what was the use of ever “climbing up the climbing wave”? One must have something of hope to live on. A dream or two—ahead.
How long he sat there he did not know. And all at once he was aware of a pale blur against the prevailing gloom. And then he heard Jane’s voice calling, “Evans? Evans?” ”

“ Oh, bravo, bravo, little Lucy, not to risk boring this fashionable young husband with a conventional honeymoon! Edith wanted to clap her hands. But she made no sign, except to meet Lucy’s quiet glance with a lift of the eyebrows.
Edith and Baldy lingered after the bride and groom had driven off in a great gray car—bound for the Virginia country place which Delafield had bought, and made ready for the occupancy in the twinkling of an eye. ”

“ But death had transfigured them. They would remain always in the eyes of this world as young and splendid.
And there beneath them sat this morning a man who had, too, been young and splendid. But who was wrapped in no shining armor of illusion. He had come back a hero, but had been among them long enough to lose his halo. It was manifestly unfair. Jane resolved that she would keep in her heart always that vision of Evans as a shining knight. Whoever else forgot, she would not forget.
Evans, with his mother in the pew, looked straight ahead of him. ”

“ Jane crossed the hall to Evans’ room. It faced south and was big and square. It had the same studied bareness that made the rest of the house beautiful. There was a mahogany bed and dresser, many books, deep window-seats with faded velvet cushions.
Evans’ desk was in an alcove by the east window which overlooked Sherwood. It was a mahogany desk of the secretary type, and there was nothing about it to drain the color from Jane’s cheeks, to send her hand to her heart. ”

“ Baldy having brought Edith, put on her skates, and they flew away like birds. She was all in warm white wool—with white furs, and Baldy wore a white sweater and cap. The silver of the night seemed to clothe them in shining armor.
Baldy said things to her that made her pulses beat. She found herself a little frightened.
“You’re such a darling poet. But life isn’t in the least what you think it.” ”

“ Jane felt as if clutched by a nightmare. “Stay here, and don’t worry. I’ll get him out——”
It was a cruel thing to face. There was blood and that little trembling body. The cry reduced now to an agonized whimpering. How she opened the trap she never knew, but she did open it, and made a bandage from her blouse which she tore from her shoulders regardless of the cold. And after what seemed to be ages, she staggered back to Evans with her dreadful burden wrapped in her cape. “We’ve got to get him to a veterinary. Run down to the road and see if there’s a car in sight.” ”

“ Delafield purred like a pussy-cat. “I shall name my first rose the ‘Little Lucy Logan.’”
Edith, locking arms with Jane, a little later, as they strolled under a wisteria-hung trellis towards the fountain, said, “Lucy’s making a man of him because she loves him. And I would have laughed at him. We would have bored each other to death.”
“They will never be bored,” Jane decided, “with their roses and their little pigs.” ”

“ Be a good sport, Baldy. Things are bound to come your way if you wait.”
He gave a short laugh and rose. “I wish I had your optimism.”
“I wish you had.”
They faced each other, looking for the moment rather like two young cockerels. Jane’s bobbed hair emphasized the boyish effect of her straight, slim figure. Baldy towered above her, his black hair matching hers, his eyes, too, matching—gray and lighted-up.
Jane was the first to turn her eyes away. She looked at the clock. “You’ll be late.”
He got his hat and coat and came back to her. “I’m a blamed sorehead. Give me a kiss, Janey.” ”

“ Jane loved the marble figures that circled the Hall. Years ago there had not been so many. They had been, then, perhaps, more distinctive. As a child, she had chosen as her favorites the picturesque Colonials, the frontiersmen in leather tunics and coonskin caps. She had never liked the statesmen in stiff shirts and frock coats, although she had admitted their virtues. Even the incongruous classic draperies were more in keeping with the glamour which the past flung over the men who had given their best to America. ”

“ He lighted another match and came towards her, as Waldron, with a brace of candles, appeared in one door and Baldy and Edith in another.
Frederick lifted Jane in his strong arms. “Why, you’re crying,” he said; “don’t, my darling, don’t.”
Then Baldy came up and demanded, “What’s the matter, Kitten? You’ve never been afraid of storms.”
She tried to smile at him. “Well, I’ve gone through such a lot lately.” But Baldy wasn’t satisfied. A Jane who dissolved into tears was a disturbing and desolating object. He glowered at Frederick, holding him responsible. ”

“ Merrymaid came down the path, her tail a plume. The kitten followed. A bronze butterfly floated across their vision, and they leaped for it—but it went above them—joyously towards the open blue of the sky. The two cats gazed after it, then composed themselves carefully like a pair of miniature lions—their paws in front of them, sleepy-eyed but alert for more butterflies, or for Jane’s busy thread. ”

“ And it was these things in her which had attracted Frederick.
Jane was unfastening the earrings. “Aren’t they heavenly, Mrs. Laramore?”
“The sapphires?” Mrs. Laramore sat down on the couch. Her evening wrap slipped back, showing her white neck. Her fair hair was swept up from her forehead. She had a long face, with pink cheeks and pencilled eyebrows. She was like a portrait on porcelain, and she knew it, and emphasized the effect. “The sapphires? Yes. They’re the choice of the lot.” ”

“ There was the coal grate, the table drawn up to the fire, the twinkling silver on its massive tray, violets in a low vase—and rising to meet him a slender, glowing child, with a banner of orange wool behind her.
[39] “Jane,” said young Barnes, “may I present Mr. Towne?” and Jane held out her hand and said, “This is very good of you.”
He found himself unexpectedly gracious. He was not always gracious. He had felt that he couldn’t be. A man with money and position had to shut himself up sometimes in a shell of reserve, lest he be imposed upon. ”

“ I have had Christmas letters from Evans and Edith and Mr. Towne. Baldy, Mr. Towne wants to marry me. I haven’t told you before. It is rather like a dream and I’m not going to think about it. I don’t love him, and so, of course, that settles it. But he says he can make me, and, Baldy, sometimes I wish that he could. It would be such a heavenly thing for the whole family. Of course that isn’t the way to look at it, but I believe Judy wants it. She believes in love in a cottage, but she says that love in a palace might be equally satisfying, with fewer things to worry about. ”

“ Bob was eager. “Now look here, Janey, I’m talking to you like a Dutch uncle. It isn’t as if I were advising you to do it for our sakes. It is for your own sake, too. Why, it would be great, old girl. Never another worry. Somebody always to look after you.”
The wind outside was singing a wild song, a roaring, cynical song, it seemed to Jane. She wanted to say to Bob, “But I’ve always been happy in my little house with Baldy and Philomel, and the chickens and the cats.” But of course Bob could say, “You’re not happy now, and anyhow what are you going to do about Judy?” ”

“ When Jane said that she must be getting home, they pressed around her, sniffing her flowers, saying pleasant things of her prettiness—hinting of Towne’s absorption in her.
She laughed and sparkled. It was a joyous experience. Mr. Towne had a way of making her feel important. And the adulation of the old ladies added to her elation.
As Frederick and Jane walked across the street towards the little house on the terrace, a gaunt figure rose from the top step and greeted them.
“Evans,” Jane scolded, “you need a guardian. Don’t you know that you shouldn’t sit out in such weather as this?” ”

“ She enjoyed good food as she enjoyed a new frock, violets in the spring, the vista from the west front of the Capitol, free verse, and the book of Job. There were really no limits to Jane’s enthusiasms. She spoke again of the percolator. “It’s as nice as a kettle on the hob, isn’t it?”
[10] Young Baldwin read on.
“I simply love breakfast,” she continued.
“Is there anything you don’t love, Janey?” with a touch of irritation.
“Yes.”
“What?”
“You.”
He stared at her over the top of the sheet. “I like that!”
“Well, you won’t talk to me, Baldy. It isn’t my fault if you hate the world.” ”

“ Judy, rather austere, with her black braids on each side of her white face, said, “Janey, do you know that not one girl in a thousand has a chance to marry a man like Frederick Towne?”
There was a breathless excitement about the invalid which warned Jane. “Now, darling, what real difference will it make if I don’t marry him? There are other men in the world.” ”

“ The wind caught up her ruffles, so that she seemed to float in a cloud.
She laughed, and tucked her whirling draperies about her. “I love the wind, don’t you?”
Adelaide did not love the wind. It rumpled her hair. She felt spitefully ready to hurt Jane.
“It is a pity,” she said, after a pause, “that Ricky can’t dine with us.”
Jane agreed. “Mr. Towne always seems to be a very busy person.”
Adelaide carried a little gauze fan with gold-lacquered sticks. When she spoke she kept her eyes upon the fan. “Do you always call him ‘Mr. Towne’?” ”

“ Lucy’s fair cheeks were flushed. “Why, of course I do.”
“Well, we don’t—not many of us,” said Edith. “The thing you have got to do is to interest Del in something. Don’t just go sailing away with him in his yacht. Buy a farm over in Virginia, and help him make a success of it.”
“But he lives in New York.”
“Of course he does. But he can live anywhere. He’s so rich that he doesn’t have to earn anything, and his office is just a fiction. You must make him work. Go in for a fad; blooded horses, cows, black Berkshires. Do you know what a black Berkshire is, Lucy?” ”

“ Lucy was still to Eloise Harper the stenographer of Frederick Towne. Out of place, of course, in this fine country house, with its formal gardens, its great stables, its retinue of servants.
“What do you do with yourselves?” she asked her hostess, as she came down, ready for dinner, in revealing apricot draperies and found Lucy crisp in white organdie with a band of black velvet around her throat.
“Do?” Lucy’s smile was ingenuous. “We are very busy, Del and I. We feed the pigs.” ”

“ In the matters of romance, Jane’s thoughts had always ventured. She had dreamed of a gallant lover, a composite hero, one who should combine the reckless courage of a Robin Hood with the high moralities of a Galahad. With such a lover one might gallop through life to a piping tune. ”

“ Jane looked up at her. “The rest of you? What do you mean, Mrs. Laramore?”
“Oh, the women that Ricky has loved,” lightly.
The winds fluttered the ribbons of Jane’s frock, fluttered her ruffles. The peacock on the lawn uttered a discordant note. ”

“ Of a living-room where a fire burned bright whose windows looked upon a little garden—crocuses and hyacinths in the spring, roses in June, snow in winter, with all the birds coming up for Jane to feed them. A library with books to the ceiling, and himself reading to Jane. A kitchen, a shining place, with a crisp maid to save Jane from drudgery. Two crisp maids, perhaps, some day, if there were kiddies.
He asked no more than that. Why, it was all the world for a man.... ”

“ Baldy, coming in, wrung Evans’ hand. “The boys and I will get the pine, and Edith Towne is coming out to help. I called her up to tell her——”
Baldy stopped at that. He could not speak here of the glory that encompassed him. He had said, “If death should come to us, Edith! Does anything else count?” And she had said, “Nothing.” And now she was coming and they would pick roses together in the garden. And love and life would minister to a greater mystery....
When Baldy and the boys had gone, Jane and Evans opened the windows and pulled up the shades. ”

“ Jane had not yet learned that one may be in love with being loved, which is not in the least the same as loving. Against the benefits which Towne bestowed upon her, she could set only her dreams of Galahad, of Robin Hood! Of romantic adventure! Her memories—of Evans Follette.
She sighed as she thought of him. He would be unhappy. Oh, darling old Evans! She cried a little into her pillow. She mustn’t think of him. The thing was done. She was going to marry Frederick Towne! ”

“ On the bedside table in Evans’ room lay the valentine he had bought for Jane. There it was, with its cupids and bleeding hearts—its forget-me-nots—and golden darts.
Of course he could not send it now. He couldn’t ever send another valentine to Jane. She belonged to Towne.
It didn’t seem credible. It was one of the things [257] —like war—that men refused to believe could ever happen. Yet it had happened.
After this Jane would be out of his life—utterly. It was all very well to talk of friendship. But he wouldn’t be her friend. He didn’t want to see her. He didn’t want to hear her voice. ”