Palla

“ People who talk never strike. Are you anxious, darling?”
Palla smiled: “Not a bit––only such cowardice saddens me.... And the days are grey enough....”
“Why do you say that? I think it is a wonderful winter––a beautiful year!”
Palla lifted her brown eyes and let them dwell on the beauty of this clear-skinned, golden-haired girl who had discovered beauty in the aftermath of the world’s great tragedy.
Ilse smiled: “Life is good,” she said. “This world is all to be done over in the right way. We have it all before us, you and I, Palla, and those who love and understand.” ”

“ Those who have nothing would take, then, from those who have!”
“I think not!” cried another,“––not in the Urals!”
Thunderous laughter from their comrades and cries of, “Palla! Let us hear our pretty boy, who has made for the whole world a law.”
Palla Dumont, her slender hands thrust deep in her great coat sleeves, and standing like a nun lost in mystic revery, looked up with gay audacity––not like xxxviii a nun at all, now, save for the virginal allure that seemed a part of the girl. ”

“ After a tiresome day, Palla left a new Hostess House which she had aided to establish, and took a Fifth Avenue bus, too weary to walk home.
The day had been clear and sunny, and she wondered dully why it had left with her the impression of grey skies.
Dusk came before she arrived at her house. She went into her unlighted living room, and threw herself on the lounge, lying with eyes closed and the back of one gloved hand across her temples. ”

“ Palla watched her to the foot of the stairs; the door closed; the engine of a taxi began to hum.
Her telephone was ringing when she returned to the living room, and the quick leap of her heart averted her of the hope revived.
But it was a strange voice on the wire,––a man’s voice, clear, sinister, tainted with a German accent:
“Iss this Miss Dumont? Yess? Then this I haff to say to you: You shall find yourself in serious trouble if you do not move your foolish club of vimmen out of the vicinity of which you know. We giff you one more chance. ”

“ War slays all yesterdays, so that human interest lives only in the fierce and present moment, or blazes anew at thought of what may be to-morrow.
Only the chronicles of the burning hour can hold human attention where war is. For last week is already a decade ago; and last year a dead century; but to-day is vital and to-morrow is immortal.
It was so with Palla. Her listless eyes swept the ranks of handsome, old-time books––old favourites bound in gold and leather, masters of English prose and poetry gathered and garnered by her grand-parents when books were rare in Shadow Hill. ”

“ So he got his hat and overcoat, and they went out together into the winter sunshine.
Angelo Puma, seated in a taxi across the street, observed them. He wore a gardenia in his lapel. He might have followed Palla had she emerged alone from the offices of Sharrow & Co.
Shotwell Junior had a jolly morning of it. And, if the routine proved a trifle monotonous, Palla, too, appeared to amuse herself.
She inspected various types of houses, expensive and inexpensive, modern and out of date, well built and well kept and “jerry-built” and dirty. ”

“ That is all, except, an hour ago we saw your sleigh.”
“You have been hiding with the Cossacks ever since!” exclaimed Estridge to Palla.
“That is her history,” replied Ilse, “and mine. And,” 11 she added cheerfully but tenderly, “my little comrade, here, is very, very homesick, very weary, very deeply and profoundly unhappy in the loss of her closest friend... and perhaps in the loss of her faith in God.”
“I am tranquil and I am not unhappy,”––said Palla. “And if I ever win free of this murderous country I shall, for the first time in my life, understand what the meaning of life really is. ”

“ For a moment Marya continued to arrange her hair by the aid of the mantel mirror, then she turned very lithely and let her green gaze rest full on Palla’s face.
What she might possibly have divined was hidden behind the steady brown eyes that met hers may have determined her attitude and words; for she laughed with frank carelessness and plunged into it all:
“Fancy, Palla, my encountering Jim Shotwell in the Biltmore, and dining with him at that noisy Palace of Mirrors last night! Did he tell you?”
“I haven’t seen him.”
“––Over the telephone, perhaps?” ”

“ And Palla’s careless gaze, slowly sweeping the circle, finally met Marya’s––as she knew it must. Both smiled, 113 touching each other at once with invisible antennæ––always searching, exploring under the glimmering aura what no male ever discovered or comprehended. ”

“ First came Estridge,––handsome, athletic, standing over six feet, and already possessed of that winning and reassuring manner which means success for a physician.
“It’s nice of you to ask me, Palla,” he said. “And is Miss Westgard really coming to-night?”
“But here she is now!” exclaimed Palla, as the maid announced her. “––Ilse! You astonishing girl! How long have you been in New York?”
And Shotwell beheld the six-foot goddess for the first time––gazed with pleasurable awe upon this young super-creature with the sea-blue eyes and golden hair and a skin of roses and cream. ”

“ Ilse said very calmly to Estridge: “With me it is my reason and not mere hope that convinces me of God’s existence. I try to reason with Palla because one is indeed to be pitied who has lost belief in God–––”
“You are mistaken,” said Palla drily; “––one merely becomes one’s self when once the belief in that sort of God is ended.” ”

“ No man ever has successfully divined any motive which any woman desires to conceal.
Why his mother had not spoken of Palla to him he did not know. He was aware, of course, that nobody within the circle into which he had been born would tolerate Palla’s social convictions. ”

“ Yet, partly it came from the ruptured comradeship which always haunted her mind, partly because of Ilse and the uncertainty of what might happen to her––may have happened already for all Palla knew––and partly because––although she did not realise it––in the profound deeps of her girl’s being she was vaguely conscious of something latent which seemed to have lain hidden there for a long, long time––something inert, inexorable, indestructible, which, if it ever stirred from its intense stillness, must be reckoned with in years to come. ”

“ Palla looked at her steadily: “I am the American companion to the Grand Duchess Marie; and I am journeying to the village where the Imperial family is detained, because she has obtained permission for me to rejoin her.”
There was a short silence; the blue eyes of the xx Swedish girl had become frosty as two midwinter stars. Suddenly they glimmered warm again as twin violets:
“Kharasho!” she said smiling. “And do you love your little comrade duchess?”
“Next only to God.”
“That is very beautiful, Palla. She is a child to be enlightened. Teach her the greater truth.”
“She has learned it, Ilse.” ”

“ Shotwell said bitterly:
“I do care for Palla. I like Ilse. All the women one encounters at Palla’s parties are gay, accomplished, clever, piquant. The men also are more or less amusing. The conversation is never dull. Everybody seems to be well bred, sincere, friendly and agreeable. But there’s something lacking. One feels it even before one is enlightened concerning the ultra-modernism of these admittedly interesting people. And I’ll tell you what 172 it is. Actually, deep in their souls, they don’t believe in themselves.
“Take Palla. She says there is no God––no divinity except in herself. ”

“ Palla looked at him miserably, conscious of her own keen fears as well as of his sorrow. “Don’t you think she’ll come back? Do you suppose it is really so serious––what she thinks about––Mr. Shotwell?”
He shook his head: “I don’t know.... If it is so, it is so. Freedom is of first importance. Our creed 280 is our creed. We must abide by what we teach and believe.”
“Yes.”
He nodded absently, staring palely into space.
Perhaps his lost gaze evoked the warm-skinned, sunny-haired girl who had gone out of the semi-light of this still place, leaving the void unutterably vast around him. ”

“ Skidder, snapping his eyes, “is 50 silly sentiment, not business. But please yourself Palla. I ain’t saying a word. I ain’t trying to tell you I can get a lot more for you than your house is worth––what with values falling and houses empty and the mills letting men go because there ain’t going to be any more war orders!––but please yourself, Palla. ”

“ She took Palla’s hands and bent her lips to them, then lifted her tawny head:
“What do words matter? Slava, slava, under the moon! Words are but symbols of needs––your need and Ilse’s and mine––and Jack’s and Vanya’s––and the master-word differs as differ our several needs. And if I say Christ and Buddha and I are one, let me so 339 believe, if that be my need. ”

“ TUNIC (O. Eng. tunice, tunical, taken, before the Norman conquest, directly from Lat. tunica, of which the origin is unknown) , properly the name given in Latin to the principal undergarment of men and women, answering to the chiton (χιτών) of the Greeks, and covered by the outer garment, the palla (Gr. ἱμάτιον) , in the case of women, and by the peculiar Roman garment, the toga, in the case of men. The male tunica differed from the χιτών in usually having short sleeves (see further Costume: § Ancient Greek and Roman) . ”

“ He closed the book and laid it on the piano.
“Now,” he said, “either we’re really a rotten and decadent race, and might as well behave like one, or we’re sound and sane.”
Something unusual in his voice––in the sudden grim whiteness of his face––disturbed Palla.
“I want you to marry me,” he said. “You care for no other man. And if you don’t love me enough to do it, you’ll learn to afterward.”
“Jim,” she said gently, and now rather white herself, 246 “that is an outrageous thing to say to me. Don’t you realise it?”
“I’m sorry. But I love you––I need you so that I’m fit for nothing else. ”

“ What is there for me to do but to accept things as they are?”
“You mean, ‘accept me as I am!’ Oh, Jim, it’s so dear of you. And you know well enough that I care for no other man as I do for you–––”
The waitress with the tea-tray cut short that sort of 188 conversation. Palla’s appetite was a healthy one. She unpinned her hat and flung it on the piano. Then she nestled down sideways on the sofa, one leg tucked under the other knee, her hair in enough disorder to worry any other girl––and began to tuck away tea and cakes. ”

“ Had there been anything about Palla––the faintest hint of inferiority of any sort––Elorn Sharrow could have dismissed the episode with proud, if troubled, philosophy. For many among her girl friends had cub brothers. And the girl had learned that men are men––sometimes even the nicest––although she could not understand it.
But this brown-eyed girl in black was evidently her own sort––Jim’s sort. And that preoccupied her; and she lent only an inattentive ear to the animated monologue of the man beside her. ”

“ Pall-mall, pel-mel′, n. an old game, in which a ball was driven through an iron ring with a mallet: an alley where the game used to be played, hence the street in London.—adv. in pall-mall fashion. [O. Fr. pale-maille—Old It. palamaglio—palla—Old High Ger. pallá (Ger. ball, Eng. ball) , and maglio—L. malleus, a hammer.]
Pallometric, pal-o-met′rik, adj. pertaining to the measurement of artificial vibrations in the earth's surface. [Gr. pallein, to shake, metron, a measure.]
Pallone, päl-lō′nā, n. a game like tennis played with a ball, which is struck by the arm covered by a guard. [It.] ”

“ The chivalrous love of Pallas casts for a moment its light and glory round his life, but the light and glory sink into gloom again beneath the spear of Turnus. Æneas is left alone with his destiny to the very end, but it is a destiny that has grown into a passion that absorbs the very life of the man. ”

“ Palla gazed at Marya, profoundly preoccupied by the astounding revelation that she had been Vanya’s legal wife; and in her brown eyes the stunned wonder of it still remained, nor could she seem to think of anything except of that amazing fact.
When they stood up to take leave of Marya, the rosebud dropped from Palla’s lap, and Marya picked it up and offered it again.
“It should open,” she said, her strange smile glimmering. “Cold water and a little salt, my Palla––that is all rosebuds need––that is all we women need––a little water to cool and freshen us ”

“ Insulting Man! what thou thy self shalt be?
Astonish'd at the Voice, he stood amaz'd,
And all around with inward Horror gaz'd:
When Pallas swift descending from the Skies,
Pallas, the Guardian of the Bold and Wise,
Bids him plow up the Field, and scatter round
The Dragon's Teeth o'er all the furrow'd Ground;
Then tells the Youth how to his wond'ring Eyes
Embattled Armies from the Field should rise.
⁠He sows the Teeth at Pallas's Command,
And flings the future People from his Hand.
The Clods grow warm, and crumble where he sows ”

“ Eros [turning suddenly] .
Ah! Pallas! What, you have brought that ivory box with you? Why did you burden your hands with that?
Pallas.
I snatched it from the burning palace. There is something strange at the bottom of it—something like an opal, with a violet flame in it.
[Pg 12] Eros.
Alas! we have no great need of jewels here. This shining beech-leaf is the treasure you should wear, Pallas. See, a little bough of it, bent just above the white enamel of your forehead. It will be as green as a beryl to-day, and red like copper to-morrow, and perhaps you will need no third adornment. ”

“ Pallas, with the nine Muses, stands wondering what [Pg 159] horrible thing this may be, and Pan, embracing a Nymph who is trembling with fear, seems to wish to save her from the glowing fires and the lightning-flashes with which the heavens are filled. Apollo stands in the chariot of the sun, and some of the Hours seem to be seeking to restrain the course of his horses. ”