Bellsmith

“ He continued to smoke thoughtfully with his eyes fixed absently on Bellsmith's feet. Bellsmith, becoming aware of the scrutiny, moved his feet nervously, and the doctor diverted his eyes to a point on the carpet.
"Mr. Bellsmith," he began, at last, slowly, "you are quite right about one thing. It is too much to face a man coldly with a certain thing—charity, business, or anything else—and order him deliberately to become interested in it. The human mind does not work that way. You might as well face a man with a certain heavy food and order him to like it—not merely to eat it but to like it." ”

“ On this particular evening no words passed between Bellsmith and William. In fact, William, seeing no occasion for ceremony, merely picked up the evening paper and was half-way down the hall before Bellsmith began to ascend the heavily carpeted stairs, already feeling the unhappy weight of an adventure to which he knew that he was committed but which, for no reason except his dread of commitments in general, he was unwilling to face. ”

“ Even to think of Miss Marshall still excited him as the thought of no other human being on earth had ever excited him, but still, there it was! The dirt of the alley even clung to her innocent skirts. This was Bellsmith at his best and his worst, instinctively fine or instinctively contemptible. One can take one's choice. But something within him gripped his arm as in a vise of steel every time he sat down to write that letter or sat down to call on the telephone. ”

“ For years Arnold Bellsmith had been the sole possessor of one of those quiet but ponderous fortunes which are found in every New England city, fortunes which have been massed up by nothing more than the simple accumulation of three or four generations and which, in their silent, impregnable bulk, form the despair of eager young business men who are tempted to be exultant in the pride of their first hard-earned and precarious thousands. ”

“ Without another word, he picked up his book and continued reading. With a queer, gulpy feeling, like that of a country boy in search of his first job, Bellsmith turned to the empty lobby where now even the janitor had finished his sketchy and superficial sweeping. ”

“ From some vague, far-off recollection, Bellsmith recognized him as one of the stewards on one of the river boats.
"Excuse me, sir," repeated the man, "but can you direct me to the office of Dr. MacVickar?"
Bellsmith motioned over his shoulder.
"Right in there. Take the elevator. It's on the second floor."
"Thank you, sir."
But as the trim, erect little man disappeared into the shadows of the hall with his rapid, deck-treading steps, Bellsmith looked after him, musing.
"Now, what in the world," he wondered, "can be the matter with him?" ”

“ He laid down the menu-card and moved a glass.
"Do you shoot people," he asked slowly, "who say, at moments like this, 'I think two people can understand each other better when they 're silent than when they are talking'?"
The girl looked at him in incredulous delight. "I do," she answered. "I shoot them at sight."
"That's nice," replied Bellsmith, "because, you know, I should have had to shoot you a minute ago if you had said, 'A penny for your thoughts'!"
The girl made no reply. She now was looking down, and for a moment Bellsmith almost thought she was angry. ”

“ Having delivered himself of this slightly venomed dart, the doctor laid down his pen and looked squarely at Bellsmith.
"Mr. Bellsmith," he began, "your trouble is simply that of any wealthy young man who is neither exceptionally vigorous nor exceptionally vicious. You have simply followed the line of the least resistance until you have reached the end of it. You have reached the irreducible minimum. You have got down to things so elemental that even you can't avoid them. ”

“ Of course, in reality, the worldly young men at "The Courier" office had never for an instant taken Bellsmith's remarks seriously. That is to say—well! From their point of view, that was, in fact, the very "juice" of the "story." Bellsmith would never have gone to bed at all if he had known that, when a laughing reporter had outlined the telephone conversation, the night city editor had commanded: "Go to it! Eat it! ”

“ While the newspapers, with a lively appreciation of the news value both of profligate wealth and of "local interest," were waging this legal and hypothetical battle, current gossip at luncheons, in offices, in pool-rooms and in clubs was building up a fictitious history of poor Bellsmith that would have amazed him. It was, moreover, "The Courier's" conception of Bellsmith and not the Pilgrim Trust Co.'s which was accepted by popular acclaim. ”

“ At the sight of Bellsmith in company with the manager, who had not been one of the party on the previous evening, she stopped uncertainly.
"What in the world are you doing here?" she demanded. Her tone was unconsciously one of proprietorship, not merely that of a sister but that of a sister who was much older than he.
Israels could not resist the temptation to break the great news.
"Mr. Bellsmith," he announced, "can come in here any time he wants. He is the big boss now. He cracks the whip over us all. He has bought the show." ”

“ Out in the alley the girl took his arm but dropped it as soon as they reached the street, whether to Bellsmith's relief or to his regret he was not at all certain.
In front of the theater they paused while Bellsmith looked around wildly.
"I 'll see whether I can get a taxi," he began, but the girl interrupted him.
"What nonsense!" she said. "Can't we walk?"
"That's what I should do myself," admitted Bellsmith, "but where would you like to go? There is some kind of dancing at both of the hotels, or perhaps—"
"I don't feel very much like dancing," replied Miss Marshall. ”

“ Miss Marshall shook her head. "No," she mused, "I am surer than ever that you will prove in the end to be really a dealer in hay, grain, and feed. Your many facets are too good to be true.
"Will you play to me some time?" she added quietly. "Very gladly," said Bellsmith. [1]
Again suddenly the director on the stage clapped his hands for attention and again was interrupted.
"Wait a minute. What time is it getting to be?" asked the voice in the darkness, and the question also brought Bellsmith up standing. ”

“ To no one did it appear more incredible than it did to Bellsmith himself. At first, indeed, he had refused to take the legal injunction with any seriousness at all. One can understand, sometimes, the point of view of anarchists, for the fact does remain that to people like Bellsmith the law most often appears as something which applies to any one but themselves. ”

“ Bellsmith was instantly as rueful as a school-boy.
"Doctor," he said, "I didn't mean to speak flippantly but, for more than three years, I have been trying to laugh myself out of this state of wretchedness, I have been calling my trouble just what I have called it now—damn foolishness. I have tried exercise. I have tried"—he smiled "—I have tried calomel. Most of all I have tried will power. None of them have done me the slightest atom of good. In a day or two I always am back where I was before—in a sort of dull, hopeless melancholia." ”

“ Bellsmith turned to the nurse, feeling, vaguely, that, under the circumstances, she might feel it her duty to amuse him, but the nurse was already seated at her little telephone-desk and, with a great show of business, had begun to write rapidly on one of the doctor's endless catalogue-cards. Bellsmith sat down on the oak settle by the entrance door and watched her idly.
"What innumerable ways," he pondered, "the human race has of keeping busy!" ”

“ The very seclusion in which the Bellsmith family had always lived, the very mystery which had always hung over the gloomy old house on Main Street, only made Bellsmith a more likely subject. In the case of a rich man about whom nobody knew very much, anything might be possible—and probably was. One harmless collision which his touring-car had had with a bridge on an icy evening ten years before was now raked up from the memory of some policeman and was even guardedly mentioned in "The Courier" as a wild midnight exploit. ”

“ Even the lobby offered no consolation as, in truth, it seldom offered much to Harcourt or Israels. Not a soul was in sight except the Boston version of Oliver who was yawning behind his brass grill. With one of those inane impulses which seize men in moments of crowded loneliness Bellsmith wandered over to the little glass window, asked for a telegraph blank, and wrote a message to Dr. MacVickar:
Success to all appearances, but feeling rather lost. ”

“ Due to a rumor that the Equity building was on fire a large crowd speedily gathered, and The Courier office was kept answering inquiries until the last edition went to press at 4:30 a.m.
Conservative estimate places the value of the Bellsmith residence, including the land, at $750,000. This represents only a small portion of the Bellsmith holdings in Leicester. Mr. Bellsmith, it is understood, takes no part in his own business affairs, being entirely a man of pleasure. ”

“ He leaned over to whisper to Israels, but the later had disappeared and Bellsmith found himself standing alone.
As the act went on, ushers, the check-room girl, occasionally Oliver, and at all times various ones of those unattached men who apparently have no occupation in life except that of standing in the darkened rear of a theater came and went, leaning a few moments against the high rail beside him and then passing on. Toward the end of the act Bellsmith heard one of the volunteers turn to Oliver. ”

“ As he said the words that every one in the corridor had been dreading, the little comedian threw a sharp look at him over his shoulder. He said nothing, but Bellsmith had not missed the look.
"But is it fair?" asked Bellsmith, weakly.
For answer Israels merely shrugged, but suddenly the little comedian turned from his dressing-table, both hands, at the ends of his pink shirt-sleeves, held out before him.
"No! I can tell you. It ain't fair!" he burst out. ”

“ The doctor looked up expectantly, but poor Bellsmith was rather alarmed.
"Why, certainly, doctor," he began vaguely. "I should be glad to do anything that I can. Possibly she would like to have me send my car so that she could get out a bit. Would she care to meet some of the people in Leicester? What is she fond of? What sort of things does she like to do?"
The doctor laughed outright. "I don't think that she would like anything in the world except a plain human being to talk to."
Bellsmith blushed crimson. "I know, doctor, but I'm such a dumbhead where people of that kind are concerned. ”

“ The usual unattached individuals, mostly women, waiting for "friends with the tickets," were lined up along the wall searching anxiously each face as it entered the door. The door-man was in his position beside the tall boxes while, on the other side of the lobby, stood a stolid fireman in uniform.
With an attitude unconsciously but ludicrously professional, Bellsmith found himself settling back to watch the entering crowd, strangely feeling himself already an official part of the scene. ”

“ As Bellsmith looked at the man at the desk in his crisp, starched linen, he reflected that Dr. MacVickar would probably succeed in making it seem cool wherever he might be, for, outside in the streets, waves of heat were rising from the soft asphalt pavements. As it was, even the doctor still showed little blue shadows under his eyes.
"You look tired," Bellsmith suggested.
The doctor shrugged. "It's been a hard summer."
"And it's not easy work shouldering other people's troubles all day long?" ”

“ Bellsmith," remarked the doctor, "a man as astute as you are ought to be ashamed of himself for getting into the state that you are in now. I own up. It does n't make any difference, because you would have found out anyway. The point is, will you take those seats this evening—or one of them—and use it?"
"Very gladly, " said Bellsmith.
The doctor sat looking thoughtfully at his desk-blotter, then spoke slowly, a faint smile twitching at the corners of his close-cropped mustache.
"That young lady whom you saw here this afternoon is Miss Tilly Marshall. She is a—a sort of connection of mine. ”

“ Bellsmith had been standing, very erect and self-conscious under the eyes of the dining-room. He acknowledged the introduction with a formal nod, while Miss Winner took him in with a swift, appraising glance not unlike that of the chorus girl on the circular stairway—a look which lost no detail yet was not unfriendly. Jules or Jacques, meantime, was eagerly holding a chair just behind her knees so that, if she should happen to unbend in the least degree, behold! she would find herself seated. Surely a head waiter could do no more. ”

“ Bellsmith," he pleaded gently, "would n't it give you a little pride to pull that show off the road for three or four weeks—just let it lie idle—until—well, damn it! until Miss Marshall gets better?"
Bellsmith did not move his eyes from the flames but the tongs moving idly in his hands became suddenly still.
"You don't mean give up altogether?"
"Oh, no!" cried Barnes. "Hold it together. Hold the company but just lie quiet until we can all get into better shape. We could rebuild the whole show in three or four weeks. Make it a thousand times better. ”