Tavernake

“ There was something almost spiritual about her pallor, the delicate outline of her figure, so imperfectly concealed by the thin silk dressing-gown, the faint, tired smile with which she welcomed him.
“You will forgive my receiving you like this, Mr. Tavernake?” she begged. “To-day I have a headache. I have been anxious for your coming. You must sit by my side, please, and tell me at once whether you have seen Beatrice.”
Tavernake did exactly as he was bidden. The chair toward which she had pointed was quite close to the sofa, but there was no other unoccupied in the room. ”

“ Tavernake awoke some hours later with a puzzled sense of having lost his own identity, of having taken up another man's life, stepped into another man's shoes. From the day of his first arrival in London, a raw country youth, till the night when he had spoken to Beatrice on the roof of Blenheim House, nothing that could properly be called an adventure had ever happened to him. ”

“ Tavernake did as he was bidden. The woman at his side was still caressing the little animal she carried. Watching her, however, Tavernake could see that her bosom was rising and falling quickly. There was an unnatural pallor in her cheeks, a terrified gleam in her eyes. Nevertheless, these things passed. In a very few seconds she was herself again.
“Come,” she said, “it is not often that I give way. The only time I am ever afraid is when there is something which I do not understand. I do not understand Mr. Pritchard to-night. I know that he is my enemy. ”

“ Tavernake made no immediate reply. Mr. Dowling was shortsighted, and in any case it would never have occurred to him to associate nervousness, or any form of emotion, with his responsible manager. The beautiful lady leaned back in her chair. Her lips were parted in a slight but very curious smile, her fingers supported her cheek, her eyelids were contracted as she looked into his face. Tavernake felt that their recognition was mutual. Once more he was back again in the tragic atmosphere of that chemist's shop, with Beatrice, half fainting, in his arms, the beautiful lady turned to stone. ”

“ Tavernake took it mechanically and held it in his fingers. It was a cheque for twelve thousand pounds.
“You see,” she said, “I have not forgotten. This is the day, isn't it? If you like, you can stay and have lunch with me up here and we will drink to the success of our speculation.”
Tavernake held the cheque in his fingers; he made no motion to put it in his pocket. She looked at him with a puzzled frown upon her face.
“Do talk or say something, please!” she exclaimed. “You look at me like some grim figure. Say something. Sit down and be natural.” ”

“ The woman on the couch winced as though some one had struck her. A more susceptible man than Tavernake must have felt a little remorseful at the tears which dimmed for a moment her beautiful eyes. Tavernake, however, although he felt a moment's uneasiness, although he felt himself assailed all the time by a curious new emotion which he utterly failed to understand, was nevertheless still immune. ”

“ You belong, to put it baldly, to altogether different social stations, and it is not easy to imagine what you could have in common.”
She paused, but Tavernake had nothing to say. His gift of silence amounted sometimes almost to genius. She leaned so close to him while she waited in vain for his reply, that the ermine about her neck brushed his cheek. The perfume of her clothes and hair, the pleading of her deep violet-blue eyes, all helped to keep him tongue-tied. ”

“ Tavernake filled her glass and his own.
“Luck to you in your new profession!” he said.
“And here is one after your own heart, you most curious of men!” she exclaimed, a few seconds later. “To the undiscovered in life!”
He drained his glass and set it down empty.
“The undiscovered,” he muttered, looking around. “It is a very good toast, Beatrice. There are many things of which one might remain ignorant all one's life if one relied wholly upon one's own perceptions.” ”

“ There were Walter Crease, Major Post, two men whom he had never seen before in his life—heavy of cheek, both, dull-eyed, but dressed with a rigid observance of the fashion of the city, in short dinner coats and black ties. And between them was Elizabeth. Tavernake gripped the sides of his chair and looked. Yes, she had altered. Her eyebrows were a trifle made up, there was a tinge in her hair which he did not recognize, a touch of color in her cheeks which he doubted. Yet her figure and her wonderful presence remained, that art of wearing her clothes as no other woman could. ”

“ Tavernake was annoyed. He said nothing, and Beatrice, glancing up, laughed at his gloomy expression.
“You certainly are,” she declared, “the most impossible, the most primitive person I ever met. London isn't Arcadia, you know, and you are not my brother. Besides, you were such an autocrat. You didn't even like my going out to supper with Mr. Grier.”
“I hate the fellow!” Tavernake admitted. “Are you seeing much of him?”
“He took us all out to supper last night,” she replied. “I thought it was very kind of him to ask me.”
“Kind, indeed! Does he want to marry you?” Tavernake demanded. ”

“ I ask you to take me to dinner and you refuse. Do you know that scarcely a man in London would not have jumped at such a chance?”
“Very likely,” Tavernake answered. “I have no experience in such matters. I only know that I am going to do something else.”
“Something you want to do very much?” she whispered.
“I am going down to a little music-hall in Whitechapel,” Tavernake said, “and I am going to meet your sister and I am going to put her in a cab and take her to have some supper, and I am going to worry her until she promises to be my wife.” ”

“ Tavernake answered. “I was thinking of those days in London; I was thinking of Beatrice's horror when she discovered that I was wearing ready-made clothes, and the amazement of Elizabeth when she found that I hadn't a dress suit. It's odd how cramped life gets back there.”
Pritchard nodded, pressing the tobacco down into the bowl of his pipe with his forefinger.
“You're right, Tavernake,” he agreed. “One loses one's sense of proportion. Men in the cities are all alike. They go about in disguise.”
“I should like,” Tavernake said, inconsequently, “to have Mr. Dowling out here.” ”

“ They watched the sea-birds together and saw the wild duck come down to the pools; felt the glow of exercise burn their cheeks; felt, too, that common and nameless exultation engendered by their loneliness in the solitude of these beautiful empty places. In the evenings they often read together, for Nicholls, although no drinker, never missed his hour or so at the village inn. Tavernake, in time, began to find a sort of comfort in her calm, sexless companionship. ”

“ Tavernake was to go up. He ascended in the lift and knocked at the door of her suite. Her maid opened it grudgingly. She scarcely took the pains to conceal her disapproval of this young man—so ordinary, so gauche. Why Madame should waste her time upon such a one, she could not imagine! ”

“ She passed on and entered a waiting motorcar, accompanied by the two men. Tavernake stood and looked after it. She did not even glance round. Except for that little gesture of cold surprise, she had ignored him. Tavernake, scarcely knowing what he did, turned slowly towards the Strand.
He was face to face now with a crisis before which he seemed powerless. Men were there in the world to be bullied, cajoled, or swept out of the way. ”

“ Tavernake sat quite still in his chair for several minutes.
“Will you take another gin fizz, Mr. Pritchard?” he asked.
“Why not?”
Tavernake gave the order. He sat on his stool whistling softly to himself.
“Then I suppose,” he said at last, “I must have looked a pretty sort of an ass coming through the wall like a madman.”
Pritchard shook his head.
“You looked just about what you were,” he answered, “a d——d good sort. I'm not playing up to you that it was all pretense. You can never trust that gang. The blackguard outside was in earnest, anyway. ”

“ Tavernake would make a great mistake,” she said, hesitatingly. “It is not well for those who have brains to work with their hands. It is not a place for those to live who have been out in the world. At most seasons of the year it is but a wilderness. Sometimes there is little enough to do, even for father.”
“I am not ambitious for over-much work or for over-much money, Miss Nicholls,” Tavernake replied. ”

“ Save for that handful of cottages, the two farmhouses a few hundred yards inland, and the deserted Hall half-hidden in its grove of pine trees, there was no dwelling-place nor any sign of human habitation for many miles. For eight hours a day Tavernake worked, mostly out of doors, in the little yard which hung over the beach. Sometimes he rested from his labors and looked seaward, looked around him as though rejoicing in that unbroken solitude, the emptiness of the gray ocean, the loneliness of the land behind. ”

“ Tavernake asked.
His companion smiled.
“If they aren't, they'll be fools. I reckon there's enough oil fields here for seven companies. There'll be a bit for us, too, Tavernake, I guess. Don't you want to come back to New York and spend it?”
Tavernake laughed once more, but this time his laugh was not wholly natural.
“Spend it!” he repeated. “What is there to spend it on? Uncomfortable clothes, false plays, drinks that are bad for you, food that's half poisoned, atmosphere that stifles. My God, Pritchard, is there anything in the world like this! Stretch out your arms, man. ”

“ Elizabeth did not at once rejoin her friends. Instead, she sank on to the low settee close to where she had been standing, and drew Tavernake down to her side. She waved her hand across at the others, who were calling for her.
“In a moment, dear people,” she said.
Then she leaned back among the cushions and laughed at her companion.
“Tell me, Mr. Tavernake,” she asked, “don't you feel that you have stepped into a sort of modern Arabian Nights?”
“Why?”
“Oh, I know Mr. Pritchard's weakness,” she continued. “He loves to throw a glamour around everything he says or does. ”

“ Tavernake, and may we meet some day in the United States!”
Tavernake drank the first cocktail in his life and wiped the tears from his eyes. The professor found safety in conversation.
“You know,” he went on, “that I am a man of science. Physiognomy delights me. Men and women as I meet them represent to me varying types of humanity, all interesting, all appealing to my peculiar love of the science of psychology. You, my dear Mr. Tavernake, if I may venture to be so personal, represent to me, as you sit there, the exact prototype of the young working Englishman. ”

“ Tavernake moved away toward the waiting-room.
The man, who according to his card was Mr. Sidney Grier, would have followed him in, but Tavernake stopped him.
“If you will wait here,” he suggested, “I will see whether my sister desires to meet you.”
Once more Mr. Sidney Grier looked surprised, but after a second glance at Tavernake he accepted his suggestion and remained outside. Tavernake took the card to Beatrice.
“Beatrice,” he announced, “there is a man outside who has heard you sing and who wants to be introduced.” ”

“ The two girls got into a taxicab together, and Tavernake breathed a sigh of relief, a relief for which he was wholly unable to account, when he saw that Grier made no effort to follow them. As soon as the taxi had rolled away, they descended and passed into the street. Then the professor suddenly changed his tone.
“Mr. Tavernake,” he said, “I know what you are thinking about me: I am a weak old man who drinks too much and who wasn't born altogether honest. I can't give up anything. I'd be happier, really happier, on a crust with Beatrice, but I daren't, I simply daren't try it. ”

“ Tavernake scribbled one out, begging for news of her return, added his address and left the place. Then he wandered aimlessly about the streets. There seemed something flat about the morning, some aftermath of the excitement of the previous night was still stirring in his blood. Nevertheless, he pulled himself together with an effort, called for a young surveyor whom he had engaged to assist him, and spent the rest of the day out upon the hill. Religiously he kept his thoughts turned upon his work until the twilight came. ”

“ Tavernake, Elizabeth terrifies me sometimes, she is so bold. I am afraid where her scheming may land us. I would be happier with Beatrice if only she had the means to satisfy my trifling wants.”
He turned to the waiter and ordered a pint of champagne.
“Veuve Clicquot '99,” he instructed the man. “At my age,” he remarked, with a sigh, “one has to be careful about these little matters. The wrong brand of champagne means a sleepless night.”
Tavernake looked at him in a puzzled way. The professor was a riddle to him. He represented no type which had come within the orbit of his experience. ”

“ We've done some grand work there, Tavernake.”
Tavernake nodded. He was lying on his side and his eyes were fixed wistfully southward, over the glimmering moonlit valley, over the great wilderness of virgin pine woods which hung from the mountains on the other side, away through the cleft in the hills to the plains beyond, chaotic, a world unseen.
“If you like to go on for a bit,” Pritchard suggested, slowly, “there's no reason why you shouldn't take McCleod and Richardson with you, and Pete and half the horses, and strike for the tin country on the other side of the Yolite Hills. ”