CHAPTER I
Late one brilliant April afternoon Professor Lucius Wilson stood at the head of Chestnut Street looking about him with the pleased air of a man of taste who does not very often get to Boston He had lived there as a student but for twenty years and more since he had been Professor of Philosophy in a Western university he had seldom come East except to take a steamer for some foreign port Wilson was standing quite still contemplating with a whimsical smile the slanting street with its worn paving its irregular gravely colored houses and the row of naked trees on which the thin sunlight was still shining The gleam of the river at the foot of the hill made him blink a little not so much because it was too bright as because he found it so pleasant The few passersby glanced at him unconcernedly and even the children who hurried along with their schoolbags under their arms seemed to find it perfectly natural that a tall brown gentleman should be standing there looking up through his glasses at the gray housetops
The sun sank rapidly the silvery light had faded from the bare boughs and the watery twilight was setting in when Wilson at last walked down the hill descending into cooler and cooler depths of grayish shadow His nostril long unused to it was quick to detect the smell of wood smoke in the air blended with the odor of moist spring earth and the saltiness that came up the river with the tide He crossed Charles Street between jangling street cars and shelving lumber drays and after a moment of uncertainty wound into Brimmer Street The street was quiet deserted and hung with a thin bluish haze He had already fixed his sharp eye upon the house which he reasoned should be his objective point when he noticed a woman approaching rapidly from the opposite direction Always an interested observer of women Wilson would have slackened his pace anywhere to follow this one with his impersonal appreciative glance She was a person of distinction he saw at once and moreover very handsome She was tall carried her beautiful head proudly and moved with ease and certainty One immediately took for granted the costly privileges and fine spaces that must lie in the background from which such a figure could emerge with this rapid and elegant gait Wilson noted her dress too—for in his way he had an eye for such things—particularly her brown furs and her hat He got a blurred impression of her fine color the violets she wore her white gloves and curiously enough of her veil as she turned up a flight of steps in front of him and disappeared
Wilson was able to enjoy lovely things that passed him on the wing as completely and deliberately as if they had been dugup marvels long anticipated and definitely fixed at the end of a railway journey For a few pleasurable seconds he quite forgot where he was going and only after the door had closed behind her did he realize that the young woman had entered the house to which he had directed his trunk from the South Station that morning He hesitated a moment before mounting the steps Can that he murmured in amazement—can that possibly have been Mrs Alexander
When the servant admitted him Mrs Alexander was still standing in the hallway She heard him give his name and came forward holding out her hand
Is it you indeed Professor Wilson I was afraid that you might get here before I did I was detained at a concert and Bartley telephoned that he would be late Thomas will show you your room Had you rather have your tea brought to you there or will you have it down here with me while we wait for Bartley
Wilson was pleased to find that he had been the cause of her rapid walk and with her he was even more vastly pleased than before He followed her through the drawingroom into the library where the wide back windows looked out upon the garden and the sunset and a fine stretch of silvercolored river A harpshaped elm stood stripped against the palecolored evening sky with ragged last years birds nests in its forks and through the bare branches the evening star quivered in the misty air The long brown room breathed the peace of a rich and amply guarded quiet Tea was brought in immediately and placed in front of the wood fire Mrs Alexander sat down in a highbacked chair and began to pour it while Wilson sank into a low seat opposite her and took his cup with a great sense of ease and harmony and comfort
You have had a long journey havent you Mrs Alexander asked after showing gracious concern about his tea And I am so sorry Bartley is late Hes often tired when hes late He flatters himself that it is a little on his account that you have come to this Congress of Psychologists
It is Wilson assented selecting his muffin carefully and I hope he wont be tired tonight But on my own account Im glad to have a few moments alone with you before Bartley comes I was somehow afraid that my knowing him so well would not put me in the way of getting to know you
Thats very nice of you She nodded at him above her cup and smiled but there was a little formal tightness in her tone which had not been there when she greeted him in the hall
Wilson leaned forward Have I said something awkward I live very far out of the world you know But I didnt mean that you would exactly fade dim even if Bartley were here
Mrs Alexander laughed relentingly Oh Im not so vain How terribly discerning you are
She looked straight at Wilson and he felt that this quick frank glance brought about an understanding between them
He liked everything about her he told himself but he particularly liked her eyes when she looked at one directly for a moment they were like a glimpse of fine windy sky that may bring all sorts of weather
Since you noticed something Mrs Alexander went on it must have been a flash of the distrust I have come to feel whenever I meet any of the people who knew Bartley when he was a boy It is always as if they were talking of someone I had never met Really Professor Wilson it would seem that he grew up among the strangest people They usually say that he has turned out very well or remark that he always was a fine fellow I never know what reply to make
Wilson chuckled and leaned back in his chair shaking his left foot gently I expect the fact is that we none of us knew him very well Mrs Alexander Though I will say for myself that I was always confident hed do something extraordinary
Mrs Alexanders shoulders gave a slight movement suggestive of impatience Oh I should think that might have been a safe prediction Another cup please
Yes thank you But predicting in the case of boys is not so easy as you might imagine Mrs Alexander Some get a bad hurt early and lose their courage and some never get a fair wind Bartley—he dropped his chin on the back of his long hand and looked at her admiringly—Bartley caught the wind early and it has sung in his sails ever since
Mrs Alexander sat looking into the fire with intent preoccupation and Wilson studied her halfaverted face He liked the suggestion of stormy possibilities in the proud curve of her lip and nostril Without that he reflected she would be too cold
I should like to know what he was really like when he was a boy I dont believe he remembers she said suddenly Wont you smoke Mr Wilson
Wilson lit a cigarette No I dont suppose he does He was never introspective He was simply the most tremendous response to stimuli I have ever known We didnt know exactly what to do with him
A servant came in and noiselessly removed the teatray Mrs Alexander screened her face from the firelight which was beginning to throw wavering bright spots on her dress and hair as the dusk deepened
Of course she said I now and again hear stories about things that happened when he was in college
But that isnt what you want Wilson wrinkled his brows and looked at her with the smiling familiarity that had come about so quickly What you want is a picture of him standing back there at the other end of twenty years You want to look down through my memory
She dropped her hands in her lap Yes yes thats exactly what I want
At this moment they heard the front door shut with a jar and Wilson laughed as Mrs Alexander rose quickly There he is Away with perspective No past no future for Bartley just the fiery moment The only moment that ever was or will be in the world
The door from the hall opened a voice called Winifred hurriedly and a big man came through the drawingroom with a quick heavy tread bringing with him a smell of cigar smoke and chill outofdoors air When Alexander reached the library door he switched on the lights and stood six feet and more in the archway glowing with strength and cordiality and rugged blond good looks There were other bridgebuilders in the world certainly but it was always Alexanders picture that the Sunday Supplement men wanted because he looked as a tamer of rivers ought to look Under his tumbled sandy hair his head seemed as hard and powerful as a catapult and his shoulders looked strong enough in themselves to support a span of any one of his ten great bridges that cut the air above as many rivers
After dinner Alexander took Wilson up to his study It was a large room over the library and looked out upon the black river and the row of white lights along the Cambridge Embankment The room was not at all what one might expect of an engineers study Wilson felt at once the harmony of beautiful things that have lived long together without obtrusions of ugliness or change It was none of Alexanders doing of course those warm consonances of color had been blending and mellowing before he was born But the wonder was that he was not out of place there—that it all seemed to glow like the inevitable background for his vigor and vehemence He sat before the fire his shoulders deep in the cushions of his chair his powerful head upright his hair rumpled above his broad forehead He sat heavily a cigar in his large smooth hand a flush of afterdinner color in his face which wind and sun and exposure to all sorts of weather had left fair and clearskinned
You are off for England on Saturday Bartley Mrs Alexander tells me
Yes for a few weeks only Theres a meeting of British engineers and Im doing another bridge in Canada you know
Oh every one knows about that And it was in Canada that you met your wife wasnt it
Yes at Allway She was visiting her greataunt there A most remarkable old lady I was working with MacKeller then an old Scotch engineer who had picked me up in London and taken me back to Quebec with him He had the contract for the Allway Bridge but before he began work on it he found out that he was going to die and he advised the committee to turn the job over to me Otherwise Id never have got anything good so early MacKeller was an old friend of Mrs Pemberton Winifreds aunt He had mentioned me to her so when I went to Allway she asked me to come to see her She was a wonderful old lady
Like her niece Wilson queried
Bartley laughed She had been very handsome but not in Winifreds way When I knew her she was little and fragile very pink and white with a splendid head and a face like fine old lace somehow—but perhaps I always think of that because she wore a lace scarf on her hair She had such a flavor of life about her She had known Gordon and Livingstone and Beaconsfield when she was young—every one She was the first woman of that sort Id ever known You know how it is in the West—old people are poked out of the way Aunt Eleanor fascinated me as few young women have ever done I used to go up from the works to have tea with her and sit talking to her for hours It was very stimulating for she couldnt tolerate stupidity
It must have been then that your luck began Bartley said Wilson flicking his cigar ash with his long finger Its curious watching boys he went on reflectively Im sure I did you justice in the matter of ability Yet I always used to feel that there was a weak spot where some day strain would tell Even after you began to climb I stood down in the crowd and watched you with—well not with confidence The more dazzling the front you presented the higher your facade rose the more I expected to see a big crack zigzagging from top to bottom—he indicated its course in the air with his forefinger—then a crash and clouds of dust It was curious I had such a clear picture of it And another curious thing Bartley Wilson spoke with deliberateness and settled deeper into his chair is that I dont feel it any longer I am sure of you
Alexander laughed Nonsense Its not I you feel sure of its Winifred People often make that mistake
No Im serious Alexander Youve changed You have decided to leave some birds in the bushes You used to want them all
Alexanders chair creaked I still want a good many he said rather gloomily After all life doesnt offer a man much You work like the devil and think youre getting on and suddenly you discover that youve only been getting yourself tied up A million details drink you dry Your life keeps going for things you dont want and all the while you are being built alive into a social structure you dont care a rap about I sometimes wonder what sort of chap Id have been if I hadnt been this sort I want to go and live out his potentialities too I havent forgotten that there are birds in the bushes
Bartley stopped and sat frowning into the fire his shoulders thrust forward as if he were about to spring at something Wilson watched him wondering His old pupil always stimulated him at first and then vastly wearied him The machinery was always pounding away in this man and Wilson preferred companions of a more reflective habit of mind He could not help feeling that there were unreasoning and unreasonable activities going on in Alexander all the while that even after dinner when most men achieve a decent impersonality Bartley had merely closed the door of the engineroom and come up for an airing The machinery itself was still pounding on
Bartleys abstraction and Wilsons reflections were cut short by a rustle at the door and almost before they could rise Mrs Alexander was standing by the hearth Alexander brought a chair for her but she shook her head
No dear thank you I only came in to see whether you and Professor Wilson were quite comfortable I am going down to the musicroom
Why not practice here Wilson and I are growing very dull We are tired of talk
Yes I beg you Mrs Alexander Wilson began but he got no further
Why certainly if you wont find me too noisy I am working on the Schumann Carnival and though I dont practice a great many hours I am very methodical Mrs Alexander explained as she crossed to an upright piano that stood at the back of the room near the windows
Wilson followed and having seen her seated dropped into a chair behind her She played brilliantly and with great musical feeling Wilson could not imagine her permitting herself to do anything badly but he was surprised at the cleanness of her execution He wondered how a woman with so many duties had managed to keep herself up to a standard really professional It must take a great deal of time certainly and Bartley must take a great deal of time Wilson reflected that he had never before known a woman who had been able for any considerable while to support both a personal and an intellectual passion Sitting behind her he watched her with perplexed admiration shading his eyes with his hand In her dinner dress she looked even younger than in street clothes and for all her composure and selfsufficiency she seemed to him strangely alert and vibrating as if in her too there were something never altogether at rest He felt that he knew pretty much what she demanded in people and what she demanded from life and he wondered how she squared Bartley After ten years she must know him and however one took him however much one admired him one had to admit that he simply wouldnt square He was a natural force certainly but beyond that Wilson felt he was not anything very really or for very long at a time
Wilson glanced toward the fire where Bartleys profile was still wreathed in cigar smoke that curled up more and more slowly His shoulders were sunk deep in the cushions and one hand hung large and passive over the arm of his chair He had slipped on a purple velvet smokingcoat His wife Wilson surmised had chosen it She was clearly very proud of his good looks and his fine color But with the glow of an immediate interest gone out of it the engineers face looked tired even a little haggard The three lines in his forehead directly above the nose deepened as he sat thinking and his powerful head drooped forward heavily Although Alexander was only fortythree Wilson thought that beneath his vigorous color he detected the dulling weariness of oncoming middle age
The next afternoon at the hour when the river was beginning to redden under the declining sun Wilson again found himself facing Mrs Alexander at the teatable in the library
Well he remarked when he was bidden to give an account of himself there was a long morning with the psychologists luncheon with Bartley at his club more psychologists and here I am Ive looked forward to this hour all day
Mrs Alexander smiled at him across the vapor from the kettle And do you remember where we stopped yesterday
Perfectly I was going to show you a picture But I doubt whether I have color enough in me Bartley makes me feel a faded monochrome You cant get at the young Bartley except by means of color Wilson paused and deliberated Suddenly he broke out He wasnt a remarkable student you know though he was always strong in higher mathematics His work in my own department was quite ordinary It was as a powerfully equipped nature that I found him interesting That is the most interesting thing a teacher can find It has the fascination of a scientific discovery We come across other pleasing and endearing qualities so much oftener than we find force
And after all said Mrs Alexander that is the thing we all live upon It is the thing that takes us forward
Wilson thought she spoke a little wistfully Exactly he assented warmly It builds the bridges into the future over which the feet of every one of us will go
How interested I am to hear you put it in that way The bridges into the future—I often say that to myself Bartleys bridges always seem to me like that Have you ever seen his first suspension bridge in Canada the one he was doing when I first knew him I hope you will see it sometime We were married as soon as it was finished and you will laugh when I tell you that it always has a rather bridal look to me It is over the wildest river with mists and clouds always battling about it and it is as delicate as a cobweb hanging in the sky It really was a bridge into the future You have only to look at it to feel that it meant the beginning of a great career But I have a photograph of it here She drew a portfolio from behind a bookcase And there you see on the hill is my aunts house
Wilson took up the photograph Bartley was telling me something about your aunt last night She must have been a delightful person
Winifred laughed The bridge you see was just at the foot of the hill and the noise of the engines annoyed her very much at first But after she met Bartley she pretended to like it and said it was a good thing to be reminded that there were things going on in the world She loved life and Bartley brought a great deal of it in to her when he came to the house Aunt Eleanor was very worldly in a frank EarlyVictorian manner She liked men of action and disliked young men who were careful of themselves and who as she put it were always trimming their wick as if they were afraid of their oils giving out MacKeller Bartleys first chief was an old friend of my aunt and he told her that Bartley was a wild illgoverned youth which really pleased her very much I remember we were sitting alone in the dusk after Bartley had been there for the first time I knew that Aunt Eleanor had found him much to her taste but she hadnt said anything Presently she came out with a chuckle MacKeller found him sowing wild oats in London I believe I hope he didnt stop him too soon Life coquets with dashing fellows The coming men are always like that We must have him to dinner my dear And we did She grew much fonder of Bartley than she was of me I had been studying in Vienna and she thought that absurd She was interested in the army and in politics and she had a great contempt for music and art and philosophy She used to declare that the Prince Consort had brought all that stuff over out of Germany She always sniffed when Bartley asked me to play for him She considered that a newfangled way of making a match of it
When Alexander came in a few moments later he found Wilson and his wife still confronting the photograph Oh let us get that out of the way he said laughing Winifred Thomas can bring my trunk down Ive decided to go over to New York tomorrow night and take a fast boat I shall save two days
CHAPTER II
On the night of his arrival in London Alexander went immediately to the hotel on the Embankment at which he always stopped and in the lobby he was accosted by an old acquaintance Maurice Mainhall who fell upon him with effusive cordiality and indicated a willingness to dine with him Bartley never dined alone if he could help it and Mainhall was a good gossip who always knew what had been going on in town especially he knew everything that was not printed in the newspapers The nephew of one of the standard Victorian novelists Mainhall bobbed about among the various literary cliques of London and its outlying suburbs careful to lose touch with none of them He had written a number of books himself among them a History of Dancing a History of Costume a Key to Shakespeares Sonnets a study of The Poetry of Ernest Dowson etc Although Mainhalls enthusiasm was often tiresome and although he was often unable to distinguish between facts and vivid figments of his imagination his imperturbable good nature overcame even the people whom he bored most so that they ended by becoming in a reluctant manner his friends In appearance Mainhall was astonishingly like the conventional stageEnglishman of American drama tall and thin with high hitching shoulders and a small head glistening with closely brushed yellow hair He spoke with an extreme Oxford accent and when he was talking well his face sometimes wore the rapt expression of a very emotional man listening to music Mainhall liked Alexander because he was an engineer He had preconceived ideas about everything and his idea about Americans was that they should be engineers or mechanics He hated them when they presumed to be anything else
While they sat at dinner Mainhall acquainted Bartley with the fortunes of his old friends in London and as they left the table he proposed that they should go to see Hugh MacConnells new comedy Bog Lights
Its really quite the best thing MacConnells done he explained as they got into a hansom Its tremendously well put on too Florence Merrill and Cyril Henderson But Hilda Burgoynes the hit of the piece Hughs written a delightful part for her and shes quite inexpressible Its been on only two weeks and Ive been half a dozen times already I happen to have MacConnells box for tonight or thered be no chance of our getting places Theres everything in seeing Hilda while shes fresh in a part Shes apt to grow a bit stale after a time The ones who have any imagination do
Hilda Burgoyne Alexander exclaimed mildly Why I havent heard of her for—years
Mainhall laughed Then you cant have heard much at all my dear Alexander Its only lately since MacConnell and his set have got hold of her that shes come up Myself I always knew she had it in her If we had one real critic in London—but what can one expect Do you know Alexander—Mainhall looked with perplexity up into the top of the hansom and rubbed his pink cheek with his gloved finger—do you know I sometimes think of taking to criticism seriously myself In a way it would be a sacrifice but dear me we do need some one
Just then they drove up to the Duke of Yorks so Alexander did not commit himself but followed Mainhall into the theatre When they entered the stagebox on the left the first act was well under way the scene being the interior of a cabin in the south of Ireland As they sat down a burst of applause drew Alexanders attention to the stage Miss Burgoyne and her donkey were thrusting their heads in at the half door After all he reflected theres small probability of her recognizing me She doubtless hasnt thought of me for years He felt the enthusiasm of the house at once and in a few moments he was caught up by the current of MacConnells irresistible comedy The audience had come forewarned evidently and whenever the ragged slip of a donkeygirl ran upon the stage there was a deep murmur of approbation every one smiled and glowed and Mainhall hitched his heavy chair a little nearer the brass railing
You see he murmured in Alexanders ear as the curtain fell on the first act one almost never sees a part like that done without smartness or mawkishness Of course Hilda is Irish—the Burgoynes have been stage people for generations—and she has the Irish voice Its delightful to hear it in a London theatre That laugh now when she doubles over at the hips—who ever heard it out of Galway She saves her hand too Shes at her best in the second act Shes really MacConnells poetic motif you see makes the whole thing a fairy tale
The second act opened before Philly Doyles underground still with Peggy and her battered donkey come in to smuggle a load of potheen across the bog and to bring Philly word of what was doing in the world without and of what was happening along the roadsides and ditches with the first gleam of fine weather Alexander annoyed by Mainhalls sighs and exclamations watched her with keen halfskeptical interest As Mainhall had said she was the second act the plot and feeling alike depended upon her lightness of foot her lightness of touch upon the shrewdness and deft fancifulness that played alternately and sometimes together in her mirthful brown eyes When she began to dance by way of showing the gossoons what she had seen in the fairy rings at night the house broke into a prolonged uproar After her dance she withdrew from the dialogue and retreated to the ditch wall back of Phillys burrow where she sat singing The Rising of the Moon and making a wreath of primroses for her donkey
When the act was over Alexander and Mainhall strolled out into the corridor They met a good many acquaintances Mainhall indeed knew almost every one and he babbled on incontinently screwing his small head about over his high collar Presently he hailed a tall bearded man grimbrowed and rather batteredlooking who had his opera cloak on his arm and his hat in his hand and who seemed to be on the point of leaving the theatre
MacConnell let me introduce Mr Bartley Alexander I say Its going famously tonight Mac And what an audience Youll never do anything like this again mark me A man writes to the top of his bent only once
The playwright gave Mainhall a curious look out of his deepset faded eyes and made a wry face And have I done anything so fool as that now he asked
Thats what I was saying Mainhall lounged a little nearer and dropped into a tone even more conspicuously confidential And youll never bring Hilda out like this again Dear me Mac the girl couldnt possibly be better you know
MacConnell grunted Shell do well enough if she keeps her pace and doesnt go off on us in the middle of the season as shes more than like to do
He nodded curtly and made for the door dodging acquaintances as he went
Poor old Hugh Mainhall murmured Hes hit terribly hard Hes been wanting to marry Hilda these three years and more She doesnt take up with anybody you know Irene Burgoyne one of her family told me in confidence that there was a romance somewhere back in the beginning One of your countrymen Alexander by the way an American student whom she met in Paris I believe I dare say its quite true that theres never been any one else Mainhall vouched for her constancy with a loftiness that made Alexander smile even while a kind of rapid excitement was tingling through him Blinking up at the lights Mainhall added in his luxurious worldly way Shes an elegant little person and quite capable of an extravagant bit of sentiment like that Here comes Sir Harry Towne Hes another whos awfully keen about her Let me introduce you Sir Harry Towne Mr Bartley Alexander the American engineer
Sir Harry Towne bowed and said that he had met Mr Alexander and his wife in Tokyo
Mainhall cut in impatiently
I say Sir Harry the little girls going famously tonight isnt she
Sir Harry wrinkled his brows judiciously Do you know I thought the dance a bit conscious tonight for the first time The fact is shes feeling rather seedy poor child Westmere and I were back after the first act and we thought she seemed quite uncertain of herself A little attack of nerves possibly
He bowed as the warning bell rang and Mainhall whispered You know Lord Westmere of course—the stooped man with the long gray mustache talking to Lady Dowle Lady Westmere is very fond of Hilda
When they reached their box the house was darkened and the orchestra was playing The Cloak of Old Gaul In a moment Peggy was on the stage again and Alexander applauded vigorously with the rest He even leaned forward over the rail a little For some reason he felt pleased and flattered by the enthusiasm of the audience In the halflight he looked about at the stalls and boxes and smiled a little consciously recalling with amusement Sir Harrys judicial frown He was beginning to feel a keen interest in the slender barefoot donkeygirl who slipped in and out of the play singing like some one winding through a hilly field He leaned forward and beamed felicitations as warmly as Mainhall himself when at the end of the play she came again and again before the curtain panting a little and flushed her eyes dancing and her eager nervous little mouth tremulous with excitement
When Alexander returned to his hotel—he shook Mainhall at the door of the theatre—he had some supper brought up to his room and it was late before he went to bed He had not thought of Hilda Burgoyne for years indeed he had almost forgotten her He had last written to her from Canada after he first met Winifred telling her that everything was changed with him—that he had met a woman whom he would marry if he could if he could not then all the more was everything changed for him Hilda had never replied to his letter He felt guilty and unhappy about her for a time but after Winifred promised to marry him he really forgot Hilda altogether When he wrote her that everything was changed for him he was telling the truth After he met Winifred Pemberton he seemed to himself like a different man One night when he and Winifred were sitting together on the bridge he told her that things had happened while he was studying abroad that he was sorry for—one thing in particular—and he asked her whether she thought she ought to know about them She considered a moment and then said No I think not though I am glad you ask me You see one cant be jealous about things in general but about particular definite personal things—here she had thrown her hands up to his shoulders with a quick impulsive gesture—oh about those I should be very jealous I should torture myself—I couldnt help it After that it was easy to forget actually to forget He wondered tonight as he poured his wine how many times he had thought of Hilda in the last ten years He had been in London more or less but he had never happened to hear of her All the same he lifted his glass heres to you little Hilda Youve made things come your way and I never thought youd do it
Of course he reflected she always had that combination of something homely and sensible and something utterly wild and daft But I never thought shed do anything She hadnt much ambition then and she was too fond of trifles She must care about the theatre a great deal more than she used to Perhaps she has me to thank for something after all Sometimes a little jolt like that does one good She was a daft generous little thing Im glad shes held her own since After all we were awfully young It was youth and poverty and proximity and everything was young and kindly I shouldnt wonder if she could laugh about it with me now I shouldnt wonder— But theyve probably spoiled her so that shed be tiresome if one met her again
Bartley smiled and yawned and went to bed
CHAPTER III
The next evening Alexander dined alone at a club and at about nine oclock he dropped in at the Duke of Yorks The house was sold out and he stood through the second act When he returned to his hotel he examined the new directory and found Miss Burgoynes address still given as off Bedford Square though at a new number He remembered that in so far as she had been brought up at all she had been brought up in Bloomsbury Her father and mother played in the provinces most of the year and she was left a great deal in the care of an old aunt who was crippled by rheumatism and who had had to leave the stage altogether In the days when Alexander knew her Hilda always managed to have a lodging of some sort about Bedford Square because she clung tenaciously to such scraps and shreds of memories as were connected with it The mummy room of the British Museum had been one of the chief delights of her childhood That forbidding pile was the goal of her truant fancy and she was sometimes taken there for a treat as other children are taken to the theatre It was long since Alexander had thought of any of these things but now they came back to him quite fresh and had a significance they did not have when they were first told him in his restless twenties So she was still in the old neighborhood near Bedford Square The new number probably meant increased prosperity He hoped so He would like to know that she was snugly settled He looked at his watch It was a quarter past ten she would not be home for a good two hours yet and he might as well walk over and have a look at the place He remembered the shortest way
It was a warm smoky evening and there was a grimy moon He went through Covent Garden to Oxford Street and as he turned into Museum Street he walked more slowly smiling at his own nervousness as he approached the sullen gray mass at the end He had not been inside the Museum actually since he and Hilda used to meet there sometimes to set out for gay adventures at Twickenham or Richmond sometimes to linger about the place for a while and to ponder by Lord Elgins marbles upon the lastingness of some things or in the mummy room upon the awful brevity of others Since then Bartley had always thought of the British Museum as the ultimate repository of mortality where all the dead things in the world were assembled to make ones hour of youth the more precious One trembled lest before he got out it might somehow escape him lest he might drop the glass from overeagerness and see it shivered on the stone floor at his feet How one hid his youth under his coat and hugged it And how good it was to turn ones back upon all that vaulted cold to take Hildas arm and hurry out of the great door and down the steps into the sunlight among the pigeons—to know that the warm and vital thing within him was still there and had not been snatched away to flush Caesars lean cheek or to feed the veins of some bearded Assyrian king They in their day had carried the flaming liquor but today was his So the song used to run in his head those summer mornings a dozen years ago Alexander walked by the place very quietly as if he were afraid of waking some one
He crossed Bedford Square and found the number he was looking for The house a comfortable wellkept place enough was dark except for the four front windows on the second floor where a low even light was burning behind the white muslin sash curtains Outside there were window boxes painted white and full of flowers Bartley was making a third round of the Square when he heard the farflung hoofbeats of a hansomcab horse driven rapidly He looked at his watch and was astonished to find that it was a few minutes after twelve He turned and walked back along the iron railing as the cab came up to Hildas number and stopped The hansom must have been one that she employed regularly for she did not stop to pay the driver She stepped out quickly and lightly He heard her cheerful Goodnight cabby as she ran up the steps and opened the door with a latchkey In a few moments the lights flared up brightly behind the white curtains and as he walked away he heard a window raised But he had gone too far to look up without turning round He went back to his hotel feeling that he had had a good evening and he slept well
For the next few days Alexander was very busy He took a desk in the office of a Scotch engineering firm on Henrietta Street and was at work almost constantly He avoided the clubs and usually dined alone at his hotel One afternoon after he had tea he started for a walk down the Embankment toward Westminster intending to end his stroll at Bedford Square and to ask whether Miss Burgoyne would let him take her to the theatre But he did not go so far When he reached the Abbey he turned back and crossed Westminster Bridge and sat down to watch the trails of smoke behind the Houses of Parliament catch fire with the sunset The slender towers were washed by a rain of golden light and licked by little flickering flames Somerset House and the bleached gray pinnacles about Whitehall were floated in a luminous haze The yellow light poured through the trees and the leaves seemed to burn with soft fires There was a smell of acacias in the air everywhere and the laburnums were dripping gold over the walls of the gardens It was a sweet lonely kind of summer evening Remembering Hilda as she used to be was doubtless more satisfactory than seeing her as she must be now—and after all Alexander asked himself what was it but his own young years that he was remembering
He crossed back to Westminster went up to the Temple and sat down to smoke in the Middle Temple gardens listening to the thin voice of the fountain and smelling the spice of the sycamores that came out heavily in the damp evening air He thought as he sat there about a great many things about his own youth and Hildas above all he thought of how glorious it had been and how quickly it had passed and when it had passed how little worth while anything was None of the things he had gained in the least compensated In the last six years his reputation had become as the saying is popular Four years ago he had been called to Japan to deliver at the Emperors request a course of lectures at the Imperial University and had instituted reforms throughout the islands not only in the practice of bridgebuilding but in drainage and roadmaking On his return he had undertaken the bridge at Moorlock in Canada the most important piece of bridgebuilding going on in the world—a test indeed of how far the latest practice in bridge structure could be carried It was a spectacular undertaking by reason of its very size and Bartley realized that whatever else he might do he would probably always be known as the engineer who designed the great Moorlock Bridge the longest cantilever in existence Yet it was to him the least satisfactory thing he had ever done He was cramped in every way by a niggardly commission and was using lighter structural material than he thought proper He had vexations enough too with his work at home He had several bridges under way in the United States and they were always being held up by strikes and delays resulting from a general industrial unrest
Though Alexander often told himself he had never put more into his work than he had done in the last few years he had to admit that he had never got so little out of it He was paying for success too in the demands made on his time by boards of civic enterprise and committees of public welfare The obligations imposed by his wifes fortune and position were sometimes distracting to a man who followed his profession and he was expected to be interested in a great many worthy endeavors on her account as well as on his own His existence was becoming a network of great and little details He had expected that success would bring him freedom and power but it had brought only power that was in itself another kind of restraint He had always meant to keep his personal liberty at all costs as old MacKeller his first chief had done and not like so many American engineers to become a part of a professional movement a cautious board member a Nestor de pontibus He happened to be engaged in work of public utility but he was not willing to become what is called a public man He found himself living exactly the kind of life he had determined to escape What he asked himself did he want with these genial honors and substantial comforts Hardships and difficulties he had carried lightly overwork had not exhausted him but this dead calm of middle life which confronted him—of that he was afraid He was not ready for it It was like being buried alive In his youth he would not have believed such a thing possible The one thing he had really wanted all his life was to be free and there was still something unconquered in him something besides the strong workhorse that his profession had made of him He felt rich tonight in the possession of that unstultified survival in the light of his experience it was more precious than honors or achievement In all those busy successful years there had been nothing so good as this hour of wild lightheartedness This feeling was the only happiness that was real to him and such hours were the only ones in which he could feel his own continuous identity—feel the boy he had been in the rough days of the old West feel the youth who had worked his way across the ocean on a cattleship and gone to study in Paris without a dollar in his pocket The man who sat in his offices in Boston was only a powerful machine Under the activities of that machine the person who in such moments as this he felt to be himself was fading and dying He remembered how when he was a little boy and his father called him in the morning he used to leap from his bed into the full consciousness of himself That consciousness was Life itself Whatever took its place action reflection the power of concentrated thought were only functions of a mechanism useful to society things that could be bought in the market There was only one thing that had an absolute value for each individual and it was just that original impulse that internal heat that feeling of ones self in ones own breast
When Alexander walked back to his hotel the red and green lights were blinking along the docks on the farther shore and the soft white stars were shining in the wide sky above the river
The next night and the next Alexander repeated this same foolish performance It was always Miss Burgoyne whom he started out to find and he got no farther than the Temple gardens and the Embankment It was a pleasant kind of loneliness To a man who was so little given to reflection whose dreams always took the form of definite ideas reaching into the future there was a seductive excitement in renewing old experiences in imagination He started out upon these walks half guiltily with a curious longing and expectancy which were wholly gratified by solitude Solitude but not solitariness for he walked shoulder to shoulder with a shadowy companion—not little Hilda Burgoyne by any means but some one vastly dearer to him than she had ever been—his own young self the youth who had waited for him upon the steps of the British Museum that night and who though he had tried to pass so quietly had known him and come down and linked an arm in his
It was not until long afterward that Alexander learned that for him this youth was the most dangerous of companions
One Sunday evening at Lady Walfords Alexander did at last meet Hilda Burgoyne Mainhall had told him that she would probably be there He looked about for her rather nervously and finally found her at the farther end of the large drawingroom the centre of a circle of men young and old She was apparently telling them a story They were all laughing and bending toward her When she saw Alexander she rose quickly and put out her hand The other men drew back a little to let him approach
Mr Alexander I am delighted Have you been in London long
Bartley bowed somewhat laboriously over her hand Long enough to have seen you more than once How fine it all is
She laughed as if she were pleased Im glad you think so I like it Wont you join us here
Miss Burgoyne was just telling us about a donkeyboy she had in Galway last summer Sir Harry Towne explained as the circle closed up again Lord Westmere stroked his long white mustache with his bloodless hand and looked at Alexander blankly Hilda was a good storyteller She was sitting on the edge of her chair as if she had alighted there for a moment only Her primrose satin gown seemed like a soft sheath for her slender supple figure and its delicate color suited her white Irish skin and brown hair Whatever she wore people felt the charm of her active girlish body with its slender hips and quick eager shoulders Alexander heard little of the story but he watched Hilda intently She must certainly he reflected be thirty and he was honestly delighted to see that the years had treated her so indulgently If her face had changed at all it was in a slight hardening of the mouth—still eager enough to be very disconcerting at times he felt—and in an added air of self-possession and selfreliance She carried her head too a little more resolutely
When the story was finished Miss Burgoyne turned pointedly to Alexander and the other men drifted away
I thought I saw you in MacConnells box with Mainhall one evening but I supposed you had left town before this
She looked at him frankly and cordially as if he were indeed merely an old friend whom she was glad to meet again
No Ive been mooning about here
Hilda laughed gayly Mooning I see you mooning You must be the busiest man in the world Time and success have done well by you you know Youre handsomer than ever and youve gained a grand manner
Alexander blushed and bowed Time and success have been good friends to both of us Arent you tremendously pleased with yourself
She laughed again and shrugged her shoulders Oh soso But I want to hear about you Several years ago I read such a lot in the papers about the wonderful things you did in Japan and how the Emperor decorated you What was it Commander of the Order of the Rising Sun That sounds like The Mikado And what about your new bridge—in Canada isnt it and its to be the longest one in the world and has some queer name I cant remember
Bartley shook his head and smiled drolly Since when have you been interested in bridges Or have you learned to be interested in everything And is that a part of success
Why how absurd As if I were not always interested Hilda exclaimed
Well I think we wont talk about bridges here at any rate Bartley looked down at the toe of her yellow slipper which was tapping the rug impatiently under the hem of her gown But I wonder whether youd think me impertinent if I asked you to let me come to see you sometime and tell you about them
Why should I Ever so many people come on Sunday afternoons
I know Mainhall offered to take me But you must know that Ive been in London several times within the last few years and you might very well think that just now is a rather inopportune time—
She cut him short Nonsense One of the pleasantest things about success is that it makes people want to look one up if thats what you mean Im like every one else—more agreeable to meet when things are going well with me Dont you suppose it gives me any pleasure to do something that people like
Does it Oh how fine it all is your coming on like this But I didnt want you to think it was because of that I wanted to see you He spoke very seriously and looked down at the floor
Hilda studied him in wideeyed astonishment for a moment and then broke into a low amused laugh My dear Mr Alexander you have strange delicacies If you please that is exactly why you wish to see me We understand that do we not
Bartley looked ruffled and turned the seal ring on his little finger about awkwardly
Hilda leaned back in her chair watching him indulgently out of her shrewd eyes Come dont be angry but dont try to pose for me or to be anything but what you are If you care to come its yourself Ill be glad to see and you thinking well of yourself Dont try to wear a cloak of humility it doesnt become you Stalk in as you are and dont make excuses Im not accustomed to inquiring into the motives of my guests That would hardly be safe even for Lady Walford in a great house like this
Sunday afternoon then said Alexander as she rose to join her hostess How early may I come
She gave him her hand and flushed and laughed He bent over it a little stiffly She went away on Lady Walfords arm and as he stood watching her yellow train glide down the long floor he looked rather sullen He felt that he had not come out of it very brilliantly
CHAPTER IV
On Sunday afternoon Alexander remembered Miss Burgoynes invitation and called at her apartment He found it a delightful little place and he met charming people there Hilda lived alone attended by a very pretty and competent French servant who answered the door and brought in the tea Alexander arrived early and some twentyodd people dropped in during the course of the afternoon Hugh MacConnell came with his sister and stood about managing his teacup awkwardly and watching every one out of his deepset faded eyes He seemed to have made a resolute effort at tidiness of attire and his sister a robust florid woman with a splendid joviality about her kept eyeing his freshly creased clothes apprehensively It was not very long indeed before his coat hung with a discouraged sag from his gaunt shoulders and his hair and beard were rumpled as if he had been out in a gale His dry humor went under a cloud of absentminded kindliness which Mainhall explained always overtook him here He was never so witty or so sharp here as elsewhere and Alexander thought he behaved as if he were an elderly relative come in to a young girls party
The editor of a monthly review came with his wife and Lady Kildare the Irish philanthropist brought her young nephew Robert Owen who had come up from Oxford and who was visibly excited and gratified by his first introduction to Miss Burgoyne Hilda was very nice to him and he sat on the edge of his chair flushed with his conversational efforts and moving his chin about nervously over his high collar Sarah Frost the novelist came with her husband a very genial and placid old scholar who had become slightly deranged upon the subject of the fourth dimension On other matters he was perfectly rational and he was easy and pleasing in conversation He looked very much like Agassiz and his wife in her oldfashioned black silk dress overskirted and tightsleeved reminded Alexander of the early pictures of Mrs Browning Hilda seemed particularly fond of this quaint couple and Bartley himself was so pleased with their mild and thoughtful converse that he took his leave when they did and walked with them over to Oxford Street where they waited for their bus They asked him to come to see them in Chelsea and they spoke very tenderly of Hilda Shes a dear unworldly little thing said the philosopher absently more like the stage people of my young days—folk of simple manners There arent many such left American tours have spoiled them Im afraid They have all grown very smart Lamb wouldnt care a great deal about many of them I fancy
Alexander went back to Bedford Square a second Sunday afternoon He had a long talk with MacConnell but he got no word with Hilda alone and he left in a discontented state of mind For the rest of the week he was nervous and unsettled and kept rushing his work as if he were preparing for immediate departure On Thursday afternoon he cut short a committee meeting jumped into a hansom and drove to Bedford Square He sent up his card but it came back to him with a message scribbled across the front
So sorry I cant see you Will you come and
dine with me Sunday evening at halfpast seven
HB
When Bartley arrived at Bedford Square on Sunday evening Marie the pretty little French girl met him at the door and conducted him upstairs Hilda was writing in her livingroom under the light of a tall desk lamp Bartley recognized the primrose satin gown she had worn that first evening at Lady Walfords
Im so pleased that you think me worth that yellow dress you know he said taking her hand and looking her over admiringly from the toes of her canary slippers to her smoothly parted brown hair Yes its very very pretty Every one at Lady Walfords was looking at it
Hilda curtsied Is that why you think it pretty Ive no need for fine clothes in Macs play this time so I can afford a few duddies for myself Its owing to that same chance by the way that I am able to ask you to dinner I dont need Marie to dress me this season so she keeps house for me and my little Galway girl has gone home for a visit I should never have asked you if Molly had been here for I remember you dont like English cookery
Alexander walked about the room looking at everything
I havent had a chance yet to tell you what a jolly little place I think this is Where did you get those etchings Theyre quite unusual arent they
Lady Westmere sent them to me from Rome last Christmas She is very much interested in the American artist who did them They are all sketches made about the Villa dEste you see He painted that group of cypresses for the Salon and it was bought for the Luxembourg
Alexander walked over to the bookcases Its the air of the whole place here that I like You havent got anything that doesnt belong Seems to me it looks particularly well tonight And you have so many flowers I like these little yellow irises
Rooms always look better by lamplight—in London at least Though Marie is clean—really clean as the French are Why do you look at the flowers so critically Marie got them all fresh in Covent Garden market yesterday morning
Im glad said Alexander simply I cant tell you how glad I am to have you so pretty and comfortable here and to hear every one saying such nice things about you Youve got awfully nice friends he added humbly picking up a little jade elephant from her desk Those fellows are all very loyal even Mainhall They dont talk of any one else as they do of you
Hilda sat down on the couch and said seriously Ive a neat little sum in the bank too now and I own a mite of a hut in Galway Its not worth much but I love it Ive managed to save something every year and that with helping my three sisters now and then and tiding poor Cousin Mike over bad seasons Hes that gifted you know but he will drink and loses more good engagements than other fellows ever get And Ive traveled a bit too
Marie opened the door and smilingly announced that dinner was served
My diningroom Hilda explained as she led the way is the tiniest place you have ever seen
It was a tiny room hung all round with French prints above which ran a shelf full of china Hilda saw Alexander look up at it
Its not particularly rare she said but some of it was my mothers Heaven knows how she managed to keep it whole through all our wanderings or in what baskets and bundles and theatre trunks it hasnt been stowed away We always had our tea out of those blue cups when I was a little girl sometimes in the queerest lodgings and sometimes on a trunk at the theatre—queer theatres for that matter
It was a wonderful little dinner There was watercress soup and sole and a delightful omelette stuffed with mushrooms and truffles and two small rare ducklings and artichokes and a dry yellow Rhone wine of which Bartley had always been very fond He drank it appreciatively and remarked that there was still no other he liked so well
I have some champagne for you too I dont drink it myself but I like to see it behave when its poured There is nothing else that looks so jolly
Thank you But I dont like it so well as this Bartley held the yellow wine against the light and squinted into it as he turned the glass slowly about You have traveled you say Have you been in Paris much these late years
Hilda lowered one of the candleshades carefully Oh yes I go over to Paris often There are few changes in the old Quarter Dear old Madame Anger is dead—but perhaps you dont remember her
Dont I though Im so sorry to hear it How did her son turn out I remember how she saved and scraped for him and how he always lay abed till ten oclock He was the laziest fellow at the Beaux Arts and thats saying a good deal
Well he is still clever and lazy They say he is a good architect when he will work Hes a big handsome creature and he hates Americans as much as ever But Angel—do you remember Angel
Perfectly Did she ever get back to Brittany and her bains de mer
Ah no Poor Angel She got tired of cooking and scouring the coppers in Madame Angers little kitchen so she ran away with a soldier and then with another soldier Too bad She still lives about the Quarter and though there is always a soldat she has become a blanchisseuse de fin She did my blouses beautifully the last time I was there and was so delighted to see me again I gave her all my old clothes even my old hats though she always wears her Breton headdress Her hair is still like flax and her blue eyes are just like a babys and she has the same three freckles on her little nose and talks about going back to her bains de mer
Bartley looked at Hilda across the yellow light of the candles and broke into a low happy laugh How jolly it was being young Hilda Do you remember that first walk we took together in Paris We walked down to the Place SaintMichel to buy some lilacs Do you remember how sweet they smelled
Indeed I do Come well have our coffee in the other room and you can smoke
Hilda rose quickly as if she wished to change the drift of their talk but Bartley found it pleasant to continue it
What a warm soft spring evening that was he went on as they sat down in the study with the coffee on a little table between them and the sky over the bridges was just the color of the lilacs We walked on down by the river didnt we
Hilda laughed and looked at him questioningly He saw a gleam in her eyes that he remembered even better than the episode he was recalling
I think we did she answered demurely It was on the Quai we met that woman who was crying so bitterly I gave her a spray of lilac I remember and you gave her a franc I was frightened at your prodigality
I expect it was the last franc I had What a strong brown face she had and very tragic She looked at us with such despair and longing out from under her black shawl What she wanted from us was neither our flowers nor our francs but just our youth I remember it touched me so I would have given her some of mine off my back if I could I had enough and to spare then Bartley mused and looked thoughtfully at his cigar
They were both remembering what the woman had said when she took the money God give you a happy love It was not in the ingratiating tone of the habitual beggar it had come out of the depths of the poor creatures sorrow vibrating with pity for their youth and despair at the terribleness of human life it had the anguish of a voice of prophecy Until she spoke Bartley had not realized that he was in love The strange woman and her passionate sentence that rang out so sharply had frightened them both They went home sadly with the lilacs back to the Rue SaintJacques walking very slowly arm in arm When they reached the house where Hilda lodged Bartley went across the court with her and up the dark old stairs to the third landing and there he had kissed her for the first time He had shut his eyes to give him the courage he remembered and she had trembled so—
Bartley started when Hilda rang the little bell beside her Dear me why did you do that I had quite forgotten—I was back there It was very jolly he murmured lazily as Marie came in to take away the coffee
Hilda laughed and went over to the piano Well we are neither of us twenty now you know Have I told you about my new play Mac is writing one really for me this time You see Im coming on
Ive seen nothing else What kind of a part is it Shall you wear yellow gowns I hope so
He was looking at her round slender figure as she stood by the piano turning over a pile of music and he felt the energy in every line of it
No it isnt a dressup part He doesnt seem to fancy me in fine feathers He says I ought to be minding the pigs at home and I suppose I ought But hes given me some good Irish songs Listen
She sat down at the piano and sang When she finished Alexander shook himself out of a reverie
Sing The Harp That Once Hilda You used to sing it so well
Nonsense Of course I cant really sing except the way my mother and grandmother did before me Most actresses nowadays learn to sing properly so I tried a master but he confused me just
Alexander laughed All the same sing it Hilda
Hilda started up from the stool and moved restlessly toward the window Its really too warm in this room to sing Dont you feel it
Alexander went over and opened the window for her Arent you afraid to let the wind low like that on your neck Cant I get a scarf or something
Ask a theatre lady if shes afraid of drafts Hilda laughed But perhaps as Im so warm—give me your handkerchief There just in front He slipped the corners carefully under her shoulderstraps There that will do It looks like a bib She pushed his hand away quickly and stood looking out into the deserted square Isnt London a tomb on Sunday night
Alexander caught the agitation in her voice He stood a little behind her and tried to steady himself as he said Its soft and misty See how white the stars are
For a long time neither Hilda nor Bartley spoke They stood close together looking out into the wan watery sky breathing always more quickly and lightly and it seemed as if all the clocks in the world had stopped Suddenly he moved the clenched hand he held behind him and dropped it violently at his side He felt a tremor run through the slender yellow figure in front of him
She caught his handkerchief from her throat and thrust it at him without turning round Here take it You must go now Bartley Goodnight
Bartley leaned over her shoulder without touching her and whispered in her ear You are giving me a chance
Yes Take it and go This isnt fair you know Goodnight
Alexander unclenched the two hands at his sides With one he threw down the window and with the other—still standing behind her—he drew her back against him
She uttered a little cry threw her arms over her head and drew his face down to hers Are you going to let me love you a little Bartley she whispered
CHAPTER V
It was the afternoon of the day before Christmas Mrs Alexander had been driving about all the morning leaving presents at the houses of her friends She lunched alone and as she rose from the table she spoke to the butler Thomas I am going down to the kitchen now to see Norah In half an hour you are to bring the greens up from the cellar and put them in the library Mr Alexander will be home at three to hang them himself Dont forget the stepladder and plenty of tacks and string You may bring the azaleas upstairs Take the white one to Mr Alexanders study Put the two pink ones in this room and the red one in the drawingroom
A little before three oclock Mrs Alexander went into the library to see that everything was ready She pulled the window shades high for the weather was dark and stormy and there was little light even in the streets A foot of snow had fallen during the morning and the wide space over the river was thick with flying flakes that fell and wreathed the masses of floating ice Winifred was standing by the window when she heard the front door open She hurried to the hall as Alexander came stamping in covered with snow He kissed her joyfully and brushed away the snow that fell on her hair
I wish I had asked you to meet me at the office and walk home with me Winifred The Common is beautiful The boys have swept the snow off the pond and are skating furiously Did the cyclamens come
An hour ago What splendid ones But arent you frightfully extravagant
Not for Christmastime Ill go upstairs and change my coat I shall be down in a moment Tell Thomas to get everything ready
When Alexander reappeared he took his wifes arm and went with her into the library When did the azaleas get here Thomas has got the white one in my room
I told him to put it there
But I say its much the finest of the lot
Thats why I had it put there There is too much color in that room for a red one you know
Bartley began to sort the greens It looks very splendid there but I feel piggish to have it However we really spend more time there than anywhere else in the house Will you hand me the holly
He climbed up the stepladder which creaked under his weight and began to twist the tough stems of the holly into the framework of the chandelier
I forgot to tell you that I had a letter from Wilson this morning explaining his telegram He is coming on because an old uncle up in Vermont has conveniently died and left Wilson a little money—something like ten thousand Hes coming on to settle up the estate Wont it be jolly to have him
And how fine that hes come into a little money I can see him posting down State Street to the steamship offices He will get a good many trips out of that ten thousand What can have detained him I expected him here for luncheon
Those trains from Albany are always late Hell be along sometime this afternoon And now dont you want to go upstairs and lie down for an hour Youve had a busy morning and I dont want you to be tired tonight
After his wife went upstairs Alexander worked energetically at the greens for a few moments Then as he was cutting off a length of string he sighed suddenly and sat down staring out of the window at the snow The animation died out of his face but in his eyes there was a restless light a look of apprehension and suspense He kept clasping and unclasping his big hands as if he were trying to realize something The clock ticked through the minutes of a halfhour and the afternoon outside began to thicken and darken turbidly Alexander since he first sat down had not changed his position He leaned forward his hands between his knees scarcely breathing as if he were holding himself away from his surroundings from the room and from the very chair in which he sat from everything except the wild eddies of snow above the river on which his eyes were fixed with feverish intentness as if he were trying to project himself thither When at last Lucius Wilson was announced Alexander sprang eagerly to his feet and hurried to meet his old instructor
Hello Wilson What luck Come into the library We are to have a lot of people to dinner tonight and Winifreds lying down You will excuse her wont you And now what about yourself Sit down and tell me everything
I think Id rather move about if you dont mind Ive been sitting in the train for a week it seems to me Wilson stood before the fire with his hands behind him and looked about the room You HAVE been busy Bartley if Id had my choice of all possible places in which to spend Christmas your house would certainly be the place Id have chosen Happy people do a great deal for their friends A house like this throws its warmth out I felt it distinctly as I was coming through the Berkshires I could scarcely believe that I was to see Mrs Bartley again so soon
Thank you Wilson Shell be as glad to see you Shall we have tea now Ill ring for Thomas to clear away this litter Winifred says I always wreck the house when I try to do anything Do you know I am quite tired Looks as if I were not used to work doesnt it Alexander laughed and dropped into a chair You know Im sailing the day after New Years
Again Why youve been over twice since I was here in the spring havent you
Oh I was in London about ten days in the summer Went to escape the hot weather more than anything else I shant be gone more than a month this time Winifred and I have been up in Canada for most of the autumn That Moorlock Bridge is on my back all the time I never had so much trouble with a job before Alexander moved about restlessly and fell to poking the fire
Havent I seen in the papers that there is some trouble about a tidewater bridge of yours in New Jersey
Oh that doesnt amount to anything Its held up by a steel strike A bother of course but the sort of thing one is always having to put up with But the Moorlock Bridge is a continual anxiety You see the truth is we are having to build pretty well to the strain limit up there Theyve crowded me too much on the cost Its all very well if everything goes well but these estimates have never been used for anything of such length before However theres nothing to be done They hold me to the scale Ive used in shorter bridges The last thing a bridge commission cares about is the kind of bridge you build
When Bartley had finished dressing for dinner he went into his study where he found his wife arranging flowers on his writingtable
These pink roses just came from Mrs Hastings she said smiling and I am sure she meant them for you
Bartley looked about with an air of satisfaction at the greens and the wreaths in the windows Have you a moment Winifred I have just now been thinking that this is our twelfth Christmas Can you realize it He went up to the table and took her hands away from the flowers drying them with his pocket handkerchief Theyve been awfully happy ones all of them havent they He took her in his arms and bent back lifting her a little and giving her a long kiss You are happy arent you Winifred More than anything else in the world I want you to be happy Sometimes of late Ive thought you looked as if you were troubled
No its only when you are troubled and harassed that I feel worried Bartley I wish you always seemed as you do tonight But you dont always She looked earnestly and inquiringly into his eyes
Alexander took her two hands from his shoulders and swung them back and forth in his own laughing his big blond laugh
Im growing older my dear thats what you feel Now may I show you something I meant to save them until tomorrow but I want you to wear them tonight He took a little leather box out of his pocket and opened it On the white velvet lay two long pendants of curiously worked gold set with pearls Winifred looked from the box to Bartley and exclaimed—
Where did you ever find such gold work Bartley
Its old Flemish Isnt it fine
They are the most beautiful things dear But you know I never wear earrings
Yes yes I know But I want you to wear them I have always wanted you to So few women can There must be a good ear to begin with and a nose—he waved his hand—above reproach Most women look silly in them They go only with faces like yours—very very proud and just a little hard
Winifred laughed as she went over to the mirror and fitted the delicate springs to the lobes of her ears Oh Bartley that old foolishness about my being hard It really hurts my feelings But I must go down now People are beginning to come
Bartley drew her arm about his neck and went to the door with her Not hard to me Winifred he whispered Never never hard to me
Left alone he paced up and down his study He was at home again among all the dear familiar things that spoke to him of so many happy years His house tonight would be full of charming people who liked and admired him Yet all the time underneath his pleasure and hopefulness and satisfaction he was conscious of the vibration of an unnatural excitement Amid this light and warmth and friendliness he sometimes started and shuddered as if some one had stepped on his grave Something had broken loose in him of which he knew nothing except that it was sullen and powerful and that it wrung and tortured him Sometimes it came upon him softly in enervating reveries Sometimes it battered him like the cannon rolling in the hold of the vessel Always now it brought with it a sense of quickened life of stimulating danger Tonight it came upon him suddenly as he was walking the floor after his wife left him It seemed impossible he could not believe it He glanced entreatingly at the door as if to call her back He heard voices in the hall below and knew that he must go down Going over to the window he looked out at the lights across the river How could this happen here in his own house among the things he loved What was it that reached in out of the darkness and thrilled him As he stood there he had a feeling that he would never escape He shut his eyes and pressed his forehead against the cold window glass breathing in the chill that came through it That this he groaned that this should have happened to ME
On New Years day a thaw set in and during the night torrents of rain fell In the morning the morning of Alexanders departure for England the river was streaked with fog and the rain drove hard against the windows of the breakfastroom Alexander had finished his coffee and was pacing up and down His wife sat at the table watching him She was pale and unnaturally calm When Thomas brought the letters Bartley sank into his chair and ran them over rapidly
Heres a note from old Wilson Hes safe back at his grind and says he had a bully time The memory of Mrs Bartley will make my whole winter fragrant Just like him He will go on getting measureless satisfaction out of you by his study fire What a man he is for looking on at life Bartley sighed pushed the letters back impatiently and went over to the window This is a nasty sort of day to sail Ive a notion to call it off Next week would be time enough
That would only mean starting twice It wouldnt really help you out at all Mrs Alexander spoke soothingly And youd come back late for all your engagements
Bartley began jingling some loose coins in his pocket I wish things would let me rest Im tired of work tired of people tired of trailing about He looked out at the stormbeaten river
Winifred came up behind him and put a hand on his shoulder Thats what you always say poor Bartley At bottom you really like all these things Cant you remember that
He put his arm about her All the same life runs smoothly enough with some people and with me its always a messy sort of patchwork Its like the song peace is where I am not How can you face it all with so much fortitude
She looked at him with that clear gaze which Wilson had so much admired which he had felt implied such high confidence and fearless pride Oh I faced that long ago when you were on your first bridge up at old Allway I knew then that your paths were not to be paths of peace but I decided that I wanted to follow them
Bartley and his wife stood silent for a long time the fire crackled in the grate the rain beat insistently upon the windows and the sleepy Angora looked up at them curiously
Presently Thomas made a discreet sound at the door Shall Edward bring down your trunks sir
Yes they are ready Tell him not to forget the big portfolio on the study table
Thomas withdrew closing the door softly Bartley turned away from his wife still holding her hand It never gets any easier Winifred
They both started at the sound of the carriage on the pavement outside Alexander sat down and leaned his head on his hand His wife bent over him Courage she said gayly Bartley rose and rang the bell Thomas brought him his hat and stick and ulster At the sight of these the supercilious Angora moved restlessly quitted her red cushion by the fire and came up waving her tail in vexation at these ominous indications of change Alexander stooped to stroke her and then plunged into his coat and drew on his gloves His wife held his stick smiling Bartley smiled too and his eyes cleared Ill work like the devil Winifred and be home again before you realize Ive gone He kissed her quickly several times hurried out of the front door into the rain and waved to her from the carriage window as the driver was starting his melancholy dripping black horses Alexander sat with his hands clenched on his knees As the carriage turned up the hill he lifted one hand and brought it down violently This time—he spoke aloud and through his set teeth—this time Im going to end it
On the afternoon of the third day out Alexander was sitting well to the stern on the windward side where the chairs were few his rugs over him and the collar of his furlined coat turned up about his ears The weather had so far been dark and raw For two hours he had been watching the low dirty sky and the beating of the heavy rain upon the ironcolored sea There was a long oily swell that made exercise laborious The decks smelled of damp woolens and the air was so humid that drops of moisture kept gathering upon his hair and mustache He seldom moved except to brush them away The great open spaces made him passive and the restlessness of the water quieted him He intended during the voyage to decide upon a course of action but he held all this away from him for the present and lay in a blessed gray oblivion Deep down in him somewhere his resolution was weakening and strengthening ebbing and flowing The thing that perturbed him went on as steadily as his pulse but he was almost unconscious of it He was submerged in the vast impersonal grayness about him and at intervals the sidelong roll of the boat measured off time like the ticking of a clock He felt released from everything that troubled and perplexed him It was as if he had tricked and outwitted torturing memories had actually managed to get on board without them He thought of nothing at all If his mind now and again picked a face out of the grayness it was Lucius Wilsons or the face of an old schoolmate forgotten for years or it was the slim outline of a favorite greyhound he used to hunt jackrabbits with when he was a boy
Toward six oclock the wind rose and tugged at the tarpaulin and brought the swell higher After dinner Alexander came back to the wet deck piled his damp rugs over him again and sat smoking losing himself in the obliterating blackness and drowsing in the rush of the gale Before he went below a few bright stars were pricked off between heavily moving masses of cloud
The next morning was bright and mild with a fresh breeze Alexander felt the need of exercise even before he came out of his cabin When he went on deck the sky was blue and blinding with heavy whiffs of white cloud smokecolored at the edges moving rapidly across it The water was roughish a cold clear indigo breaking into whitecaps Bartley walked for two hours and then stretched himself in the sun until lunchtime
In the afternoon he wrote a long letter to Winifred Later as he walked the deck through a splendid golden sunset his spirits rose continually It was agreeable to come to himself again after several days of numbness and torpor He stayed out until the last tinge of violet had faded from the water There was literally a taste of life on his lips as he sat down to dinner and ordered a bottle of champagne He was late in finishing his dinner and drank rather more wine than he had meant to When he went above the wind had risen and the deck was almost deserted As he stepped out of the door a gale lifted his heavy fur coat about his shoulders He fought his way up the deck with keen exhilaration The moment he stepped almost out of breath behind the shelter of the stern the wind was cut off and he felt like a rush of warm air a sense of close and intimate companionship He started back and tore his coat open as if something warm were actually clinging to him beneath it He hurried up the deck and went into the saloon parlor full of women who had retreated thither from the sharp wind He threw himself upon them He talked delightfully to the older ones and played accompaniments for the younger ones until the last sleepy girl had followed her mother below Then he went into the smokingroom He played bridge until two oclock in the morning and managed to lose a considerable sum of money without really noticing that he was doing so
After the break of one fine day the weather was pretty consistently dull When the low sky thinned a trifle the pale white spot of a sun did no more than throw a bluish lustre on the water giving it the dark brightness of newly cut lead Through one after another of those gray days Alexander drowsed and mused drinking in the grateful moisture But the complete peace of the first part of the voyage was over Sometimes he rose suddenly from his chair as if driven out and paced the deck for hours People noticed his propensity for walking in rough weather and watched him curiously as he did his rounds From his abstraction and the determined set of his jaw they fancied he must be thinking about his bridge Every one had heard of the new cantilever bridge in Canada
But Alexander was not thinking about his work After the fourth night out when his will suddenly softened under his hands he had been continually hammering away at himself More and more often when he first wakened in the morning or when he stepped into a warm place after being chilled on the deck he felt a sudden painful delight at being nearer another shore Sometimes when he was most despondent when he thought himself worn out with this struggle in a flash he was free of it and leaped into an overwhelming consciousness of himself On the instant he felt that marvelous return of the impetuousness the intense excitement the increasing expectancy of youth
CHAPTER VI
The last two days of the voyage Bartley found almost intolerable The stop at Queenstown the tedious passage up the Mersey were things that he noted dimly through his growing impatience He had planned to stop in Liverpool but instead he took the boat train for London
Emerging at Euston at halfpast three oclock in the afternoon Alexander had his luggage sent to the Savoy and drove at once to Bedford Square When Marie met him at the door even her strong sense of the proprieties could not restrain her surprise and delight She blushed and smiled and fumbled his card in her confusion before she ran upstairs Alexander paced up and down the hallway buttoning and unbuttoning his overcoat until she returned and took him up to Hildas livingroom The room was empty when he entered A coal fire was crackling in the grate and the lamps were lit for it was already beginning to grow dark outside Alexander did not sit down He stood his ground over by the windows until Hilda came in She called his name on the threshold but in her swift flight across the room she felt a change in him and caught herself up so deftly that he could not tell just when she did it She merely brushed his cheek with her lips and put a hand lightly and joyously on either shoulder Oh what a grand thing to happen on a raw day I felt it in my bones when I woke this morning that something splendid was going to turn up I thought it might be Sister Kate or Cousin Mike would be happening along I never dreamed it would be you Bartley But why do you let me chatter on like this Come over to the fire youre chilled through
She pushed him toward the big chair by the fire and sat down on a stool at the opposite side of the hearth her knees drawn up to her chin laughing like a happy little girl
When did you come Bartley and how did it happen You havent spoken a word
I got in about ten minutes ago I landed at Liverpool this morning and came down on the boat train
Alexander leaned forward and warmed his hands before the blaze Hilda watched him with perplexity
Theres something troubling you Bartley What is it
Bartley bent lower over the fire Its the whole thing that troubles me Hilda You and I
Hilda took a quick soft breath She looked at his heavy shoulders and big determined head thrust forward like a catapult in leash
What about us Bartley she asked in a thin voice
He locked and unlocked his hands over the grate and spread his fingers close to the bluish flame while the coals crackled and the clock ticked and a street vendor began to call under the window At last Alexander brought out one word—
Everything
Hilda was pale by this time and her eyes were wide with fright She looked about desperately from Bartley to the door then to the windows and back again to Bartley She rose uncertainly touched his hair with her hand then sank back upon her stool
Ill do anything you wish me to Bartley she said tremulously I cant stand seeing you miserable
I cant live with myself any longer he answered roughly
He rose and pushed the chair behind him and began to walk miserably about the room seeming to find it too small for him He pulled up a window as if the air were heavy
Hilda watched him from her corner trembling and scarcely breathing dark shadows growing about her eyes
It it hasnt always made you miserable has it Her eyelids fell and her lips quivered
Always But its worse now Its unbearable It tortures me every minute
But why NOW she asked piteously wringing her hands
He ignored her question I am not a man who can live two lives he went on feverishly Each life spoils the other I get nothing but misery out of either The world is all there just as it used to be but I cant get at it any more There is this deception between me and everything
At that word deception spoken with such selfcontempt the color flashed back into Hildas face as suddenly as if she had been struck by a whiplash She bit her lip and looked down at her hands which were clasped tightly in front of her
Could you—could you sit down and talk about it quietly Bartley as if I were a friend and not some one who had to be defied
He dropped back heavily into his chair by the fire It was myself I was defying Hilda I have thought about it until I am worn out
He looked at her and his haggard face softened He put out his hand toward her as he looked away again into the fire
She crept across to him drawing her stool after her When did you first begin to feel like this Bartley
After the very first The first was—sort of in play wasnt it
Hildas face quivered but she whispered Yes I think it must have been But why didnt you tell me when you were here in the summer
Alexander groaned I meant to but somehow I couldnt We had only a few days and your new play was just on and you were so happy
Yes I was happy wasnt I She pressed his hand gently in gratitude Werent you happy then at all
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath as if to draw in again the fragrance of those days Something of their troubling sweetness came back to Alexander too He moved uneasily and his chair creaked
Yes I was then You know But afterward
Yes yes she hurried pulling her hand gently away from him Presently it stole back to his coat sleeve Please tell me one thing Bartley At least tell me that you believe I thought I was making you happy
His hand shut down quickly over the questioning fingers on his sleeves Yes Hilda I know that he said simply
She leaned her head against his arm and spoke softly—
You see my mistake was in wanting you to have everything I wanted you to eat all the cakes and have them too I somehow believed that I could take all the bad consequences for you I wanted you always to be happy and handsome and successful—to have all the things that a great man ought to have and once in a way the careless holidays that great men are not permitted
Bartley gave a bitter little laugh and Hilda looked up and read in the deepening lines of his face that youth and Bartley would not much longer struggle together
I understand Bartley I was wrong But I didnt know Youve only to tell me now What must I do that Ive not done or what must I not do She listened intently but she heard nothing but the creaking of his chair You want me to say it she whispered You want to tell me that you can only see me like this as old friends do or out in the world among people I can do that
I cant he said heavily
Hilda shivered and sat still Bartley leaned his head in his hands and spoke through his teeth Its got to be a clean break Hilda I cant see you at all anywhere What I mean is that I want you to promise never to see me again no matter how often I come no matter how hard I beg
Hilda sprang up like a flame She stood over him with her hands clenched at her side her body rigid
No she gasped Its too late to ask that Do you hear me Bartley Its too late I wont promise Its abominable of you to ask me Keep away if you wish when have I ever followed you But if you come to me Ill do as I see fit The shamefulness of your asking me to do that If you come to me Ill do as I see fit Do you understand Bartley youre cowardly
Alexander rose and shook himself angrily Yes I know Im cowardly Im afraid of myself I dont trust myself any more I carried it all lightly enough at first but now I dont dare trifle with it Its getting the better of me Its different now Im growing older and youve got my young self here with you Its through him that Ive come to wish for you all and all the time He took her roughly in his arms Do you know what I mean
Hilda held her face back from him and began to cry bitterly Oh Bartley what am I to do Why didnt you let me be angry with you You ask me to stay away from you because you want me And Ive got nobody but you I will do anything you say—but that I will ask the least imaginable but I must have SOMETHING
Bartley turned away and sank down in his chair again Hilda sat on the arm of it and put her hands lightly on his shoulders
Just something Bartley I must have you to think of through the months and months of loneliness I must see you I must know about you The sight of you Bartley to see you living and happy and successful—can I never make you understand what that means to me She pressed his shoulders gently You see loving some one as I love you makes the whole world different If Id met you later if I hadnt loved you so well—but thats all over long ago Then came all those years without you lonely and hurt and discouraged those decent young fellows and poor Mac and me never heeding—hard as a steel spring And then you came back not caring very much but it made no difference
She slid to the floor beside him as if she were too tired to sit up any longer Bartley bent over and took her in his arms kissing her mouth and her wet tired eyes
Dont cry dont cry he whispered Weve tortured each other enough for tonight Forget everything except that I am here
I think I have forgotten everything but that already she murmured Ah your dear arms
CHAPTER VII
During the fortnight that Alexander was in London he drove himself hard He got through a great deal of personal business and saw a great many men who were doing interesting things in his own profession He disliked to think of his visits to London as holidays and when he was there he worked even harder than he did at home
The day before his departure for Liverpool was a singularly fine one The thick air had cleared overnight in a strong wind which brought in a golden dawn and then fell off to a fresh breeze When Bartley looked out of his windows from the Savoy the river was flashing silver and the gray stone along the Embankment was bathed in bright clear sunshine London had wakened to life after three weeks of cold and sodden rain Bartley breakfasted hurriedly and went over his mail while the hotel valet packed his trunks Then he paid his account and walked rapidly down the Strand past Charing Cross Station His spirits rose with every step and when he reached Trafalgar Square blazing in the sun with its fountains playing and its column reaching up into the bright air he signaled to a hansom and before he knew what he was about told the driver to go to Bedford Square by way of the British Museum
When he reached Hildas apartment she met him fresh as the morning itself Her rooms were flooded with sunshine and full of the flowers he had been sending her She would never let him give her anything else
Are you busy this morning Hilda he asked as he sat down his hat and gloves in his hand
Very Ive been up and about three hours working at my part We open in February you know
Well then youve worked enough And so have I Ive seen all my men my packing is done and I go up to Liverpool this evening But this morning we are going to have a holiday What do you say to a drive out to Kew and Richmond You may not get another day like this all winter Its like a fine April day at home May I use your telephone I want to order the carriage
Oh how jolly There sit down at the desk And while you are telephoning Ill change my dress I shant be long All the morning papers are on the table
Hilda was back in a few moments wearing a long gray squirrel coat and a broad fur hat
Bartley rose and inspected her Why dont you wear some of those pink roses he asked
But they came only this morning and they have not even begun to open I was saving them I am so unconsciously thrifty She laughed as she looked about the room Youve been sending me far too many flowers Bartley New ones every day Thats too often though I do love to open the boxes and I take good care of them
Why wont you let me send you any of those jade or ivory things you are so fond of Or pictures I know a good deal about pictures
Hilda shook her large hat as she drew the roses out of the tall glass No there are some things you cant do Theres the carriage Will you button my gloves for me
Bartley took her wrist and began to button the long gray suede glove How gay your eyes are this morning Hilda
Thats because Ive been studying It always stirs me up a little
He pushed the top of the glove up slowly When did you learn to take hold of your parts like that
When I had nothing else to think of Come the carriage is waiting What a shocking while you take
Im in no hurry Weve plenty of time
They found all London abroad Piccadilly was a stream of rapidly moving carriages from which flashed furs and flowers and bright winter costumes The metal trappings of the harnesses shone dazzlingly and the wheels were revolving disks that threw off rays of light The parks were full of children and nursemaids and joyful dogs that leaped and yelped and scratched up the brown earth with their paws
Im not going until tomorrow you know Bartley announced suddenly Ill cut off a day in Liverpool I havent felt so jolly this long while
Hilda looked up with a smile which she tried not to make too glad I think people were meant to be happy a little she said
They had lunch at Richmond and then walked to Twickenham where they had sent the carriage They drove back with a glorious sunset behind them toward the distant goldwashed city It was one of those rare afternoons when all the thickness and shadow of London are changed to a kind of shining pulsing special atmosphere when the smoky vapors become fluttering golden clouds nacreous veils of pink and amber when all that bleakness of gray stone and dullness of dirty brick trembles in aureate light and all the roofs and spires and one great dome are floated in golden haze On such rare afternoons the ugliest of cities becomes the most poetic and months of sodden days are offset by a moment of miracle
Its like that with us Londoners too Hilda was saying Everything is awfully grim and cheerless our weather and our houses and our ways of amusing ourselves But we can be happier than anybody We can go mad with joy as the people do out in the fields on a fine Whitsunday We make the most of our moment
She thrust her little chin out defiantly over her gray fur collar and Bartley looked down at her and laughed
You are a plucky one you He patted her glove with his hand Yes you are a plucky one
Hilda sighed No Im not Not about some things at any rate It doesnt take pluck to fight for ones moment but it takes pluck to go without—a lot More than I have I cant help it she added fiercely
After miles of outlying streets and little gloomy houses they reached London itself red and roaring and murky with a thick dampness coming up from the river that betokened fog again tomorrow The streets were full of people who had worked indoors all through the priceless day and had now come hungrily out to drink the muddy lees of it They stood in long black lines waiting before the pit entrances of the theatres—shortcoated boys and girls in sailor hats all shivering and chatting gayly There was a blurred rhythm in all the dull city noises—in the clatter of the cab horses and the rumbling of the busses in the street calls and in the undulating tramp tramp of the crowd It was like the deep vibration of some vast underground machinery and like the muffled pulsations of millions of human hearts
See The Barrel Organ by Alfred Noyes Ed I have placed it at the end for your convenience
Seems good to get back doesnt it Bartley whispered as they drove from Bayswater Road into Oxford Street London always makes me want to live more than any other city in the world You remember our priestess mummy over in the mummyroom and how we used to long to go and bring her out on nights like this Three thousand years Ugh
All the same I believe she used to feel it when we stood there and watched her and wished her well I believe she used to remember Hilda said thoughtfully
I hope so Now lets go to some awfully jolly place for dinner before we go home I could eat all the dinners there are in London tonight Where shall I tell the driver The Piccadilly Restaurant The musics good there
There are too many people there whom one knows Why not that little French place in Soho where we went so often when you were here in the summer I love it and Ive never been there with any one but you Sometimes I go by myself when I am particularly lonely
Very well the soles good there How many street pianos there are about tonight The fine weather must have thawed them out Weve had five miles of Il Trovatore now They always make me feel jaunty Are you comfy and not too tired
Im not tired at all I was just wondering how people can ever die Why did you remind me of the mummy Life seems the strongest and most indestructible thing in the world Do you really believe that all those people rushing about down there going to good dinners and clubs and theatres will be dead some day and not care about anything I dont believe it and I know I shant die ever You see I feel too—too powerful
The carriage stopped Bartley sprang out and swung her quickly to the pavement As he lifted her in his two hands he whispered You are—powerful
CHAPTER VIII
The last rehearsal was over a tedious dress rehearsal which had lasted all day and exhausted the patience of every one who had to do with it When Hilda had dressed for the street and came out of her dressingroom she found Hugh MacConnell waiting for her in the corridor
The fogs thicker than ever Hilda There have been a great many accidents today Its positively unsafe for you to be out alone Will you let me take you home
How good of you Mac If you are going with me I think Id rather walk Ive had no exercise today and all this has made me nervous
I shouldnt wonder said MacConnell dryly Hilda pulled down her veil and they stepped out into the thick brown wash that submerged St Martins Lane MacConnell took her hand and tucked it snugly under his arm Im sorry I was such a savage I hope you didnt think I made an ass of myself
Not a bit of it I dont wonder you were peppery Those things are awfully trying How do you think its going
Magnificently Thats why I got so stirred up We are going to hear from this both of us And that reminds me Ive got news for you They are going to begin repairs on the theatre about the middle of March and we are to run over to New York for six weeks Bennett told me yesterday that it was decided
Hilda looked up delightedly at the tall gray figure beside her He was the only thing she could see for they were moving through a dense opaqueness as if they were walking at the bottom of the ocean
Oh Mac how glad I am And they love your things over there dont they
Shall you be glad for—any other reason Hilda
MacConnell put his hand in front of her to ward off some dark object It proved to be only a lamppost and they beat in farther from the edge of the pavement
What do you mean Mac Hilda asked nervously
I was just thinking there might be people over there youd be glad to see he brought out awkwardly Hilda said nothing and as they walked on MacConnell spoke again apologetically I hope you dont mind my knowing about it Hilda Dont stiffen up like that No one else knows and I didnt try to find out anything I felt it even before I knew who he was I knew there was somebody and that it wasnt I
They crossed Oxford Street in silence feeling their way The busses had stopped running and the cabdrivers were leading their horses When they reached the other side MacConnell said suddenly I hope you are happy
Terribly dangerously happy Mac—Hilda spoke quietly pressing the rough sleeve of his greatcoat with her gloved hand
Youve always thought me too old for you Hilda—oh of course youve never said just that—and here this fellow is not more than eight years younger than I Ive always felt that if I could get out of my old case I might win you yet Its a fine brave youth I carry inside me only hell never be seen
Nonsense Mac That has nothing to do with it Its because you seem too close to me too much my own kind It would be like marrying Cousin Mike almost I really tried to care as you wanted me to away back in the beginning
Well here we are turning out of the Square You are not angry with me Hilda Thank you for this walk my dear Go in and get dry things on at once Youll be having a great night tomorrow
She put out her hand Thank you Mac for everything Goodnight
MacConnell trudged off through the fog and she went slowly upstairs Her slippers and dressing gown were waiting for her before the fire I shall certainly see him in New York He will see by the papers that we are coming Perhaps he knows it already Hilda kept thinking as she undressed Perhaps he will be at the dock No scarcely that but I may meet him in the street even before he comes to see me Marie placed the teatable by the fire and brought Hilda her letters She looked them over and started as she came to one in a handwriting that she did not often see Alexander had written to her only twice before and he did not allow her to write to him at all Thank you Marie You may go now
Hilda sat down by the table with the letter in her hand still unopened She looked at it intently turned it over and felt its thickness with her fingers She believed that she sometimes had a kind of secondsight about letters and could tell before she read them whether they brought good or evil tidings She put this one down on the table in front of her while she poured her tea At last with a little shiver of expectancy she tore open the envelope and read—
Boston February —
MY DEAR HILDA—
It is after twelve oclock Every one else is in bed and I am sitting alone in my study I have been happier in this room than anywhere else in the world Happiness like that makes one insolent I used to think these four walls could stand against anything And now I scarcely know myself here Now I know that no one can build his security upon the nobleness of another person Two people when they love each other grow alike in their tastes and habits and pride but their moral natures whatever we may mean by that canting expression are never welded The base one goes on being base and the noble one noble to the end
The last week has been a bad one I have been realizing how things used to be with me Sometimes I get used to being dead inside but lately it has been as if a window beside me had suddenly opened and as if all the smells of spring blew in to me There is a garden out there with stars overhead where I used to walk at night when I had a single purpose and a single heart I can remember how I used to feel there how beautiful everything about me was and what life and power and freedom I felt in myself When the window opens I know exactly how it would feel to be out there But that garden is closed to me How is it I ask myself that everything can be so different with me when nothing here has changed I am in my own house in my own study in the midst of all these quiet streets where my friends live They are all safe and at peace with themselves But I am never at peace I feel always on the edge of danger and change
I keep remembering locoed horses I used to see on the range when I was a boy They changed like that We used to catch them and put them up in the corral and they developed great cunning They would pretend to eat their oats like the other horses but we knew they were always scheming to get back at the loco
It seems that a man is meant to live only one life in this world When he tries to live a second he develops another nature I feel as if a second man had been grafted into me At first he seemed only a pleasureloving simpleton of whose company I was rather ashamed and whom I used to hide under my coat when I walked the Embankment in London But now he is strong and sullen and he is fighting for his life at the cost of mine That is his one activity to grow strong No creature ever wanted so much to live Eventually I suppose he will absorb me altogether Believe me you will hate me then
And what have you to do Hilda with this ugly story Nothing at all The little boy drank of the prettiest brook in the forest and he became a stag I write all this because I can never tell it to you and because it seems as if I could not keep silent any longer And because I suffer Hilda If any one I loved suffered like this Id want to know it Help me Hilda
B.A.
CHAPTER IX
On the last Saturday in April the New York Times published an account of the strike complications which were delaying Alexanders New Jersey bridge and stated that the engineer himself was in town and at his office on West Tenth Street
On Sunday the day after this notice appeared Alexander worked all day at his Tenth Street rooms His business often called him to New York and he had kept an apartment there for years subletting it when he went abroad for any length of time Besides his sleepingroom and bath there was a large room formerly a painters studio which he used as a study and office It was furnished with the castoff possessions of his bachelor days and with odd things which he sheltered for friends of his who followed itinerant and more or less artistic callings Over the fireplace there was a large oldfashioned gilt mirror Alexanders big worktable stood in front of one of the three windows and above the couch hung the one picture in the room a big canvas of charming color and spirit a study of the Luxembourg Gardens in early spring painted in his youth by a man who had since become a portraitpainter of international renown He had done it for Alexander when they were students together in Paris
Sunday was a cold raw day and a fine rain fell continuously When Alexander came back from dinner he put more wood on his fire made himself comfortable and settled down at his desk where he began checking over estimate sheets It was after nine oclock and he was lighting a second pipe when he thought he heard a sound at his door He started and listened holding the burning match in his hand again he heard the same sound like a firm light tap He rose and crossed the room quickly When he threw open the door he recognized the figure that shrank back into the bare dimly lit hallway He stood for a moment in awkward constraint his pipe in his hand
Come in he said to Hilda at last and closed the door behind her He pointed to a chair by the fire and went back to his worktable Wont you sit down
He was standing behind the table turning over a pile of blueprints nervously The yellow light from the students lamp fell on his hands and the purple sleeves of his velvet smokingjacket but his flushed face and big hard head were in the shadow There was something about him that made Hilda wish herself at her hotel again in the street below anywhere but where she was
Of course I know Bartley she said at last that after this you wont owe me the least consideration But we sail on Tuesday I saw that interview in the paper yesterday telling where you were and I thought I had to see you Thats all Goodnight Im going now She turned and her hand closed on the doorknob
Alexander hurried toward her and took her gently by the arm Sit down Hilda youre wet through Let me take off your coat—and your boots theyre oozing water He knelt down and began to unlace her shoes while Hilda shrank into the chair Here put your feet on this stool You dont mean to say you walked down—and without overshoes
Hilda hid her face in her hands I was afraid to take a cab Cant you see Bartley that Im terribly frightened Ive been through this a hundred times today Dont be any more angry than you can help I was all right until I knew you were in town If youd sent me a note or telephoned me or anything But you wont let me write to you and I had to see you after that letter that terrible letter you wrote me when you got home
Alexander faced her resting his arm on the mantel behind him and began to brush the sleeve of his jacket Is this the way you mean to answer it Hilda he asked unsteadily
She was afraid to look up at him Didnt—didnt you mean even to say goodby to me Bartley Did you mean just to—quit me she asked I came to tell you that Im willing to do as you asked me But its no use talking about that now Give me my things please She put her hand out toward the fender
Alexander sat down on the arm of her chair Did you think I had forgotten you were in town Hilda Do you think I kept away by accident Did you suppose I didnt know you were sailing on Tuesday There is a letter for you there in my desk drawer It was to have reached you on the steamer I was all the morning writing it I told myself that if I were really thinking of you and not of myself a letter would be better than nothing Marks on paper mean something to you He paused They never did to me
Hilda smiled up at him beautifully and put her hand on his sleeve Oh Bartley Did you write to me Why didnt you telephone me to let me know that you had Then I wouldnt have come
Alexander slipped his arm about her I didnt know it before Hilda on my honor I didnt but I believe it was because deep down in me somewhere I was hoping I might drive you to do just this Ive watched that door all day Ive jumped up if the fire crackled I think I have felt that you were coming He bent his face over her hair
And I she whispered—I felt that you were feeling that But when I came I thought I had been mistaken
Alexander started up and began to walk up and down the room
No you werent mistaken Ive been up in Canada with my bridge and I arranged not to come to New York until after you had gone Then when your manager added two more weeks I was already committed He dropped upon the stool in front of her and sat with his hands hanging between his knees What am I to do Hilda
Thats what I wanted to see you about Bartley Im going to do what you asked me to do when you were in London Only Ill do it more completely Im going to marry
Who
Oh it doesnt matter much One of them Only not Mac Im too fond of him
Alexander moved restlessly Are you joking Hilda
Indeed Im not
Then you dont know what youre talking about
Yes I know very well Ive thought about it a great deal and Ive quite decided I never used to understand how women did things like that but I know now Its because they cant be at the mercy of the man they love any longer
Alexander flushed angrily So its better to be at the mercy of a man you dont love
Under such circumstances infinitely
There was a flash in her eyes that made Alexanders fall He got up and went over to the window threw it open and leaned out He heard Hilda moving about behind him When he looked over his shoulder she was lacing her boots He went back and stood over her
Hilda youd better think a while longer before you do that I dont know what I ought to say but I dont believe youd be happy truly I dont Arent you trying to frighten me
She tied the knot of the last lacing and put her bootheel down firmly No Im telling you what Ive made up my mind to do I suppose I would better do it without telling you But afterward I shant have an opportunity to explain for I shant be seeing you again
Alexander started to speak but caught himself When Hilda rose he sat down on the arm of her chair and drew her back into it
I wouldnt be so much alarmed if I didnt know how utterly reckless you CAN be Dont do anything like that rashly His face grew troubled You wouldnt be happy You are not that kind of woman Id never have another hours peace if I helped to make you do a thing like that He took her face between his hands and looked down into it You see you are different Hilda Dont you know you are His voice grew softer his touch more and more tender Some women can do that sort of thing but you—you can love as queens did in the old time
Hilda had heard that soft deep tone in his voice only once before She closed her eyes her lips and eyelids trembled Only one Bartley Only one And he threw it back at me a second time
She felt the strength leap in the arms that held her so lightly
Try him again Hilda Try him once again
She looked up into his eyes and hid her face in her hands
CHAPTER X
On Tuesday afternoon a Boston lawyer who had been trying a case in Vermont was standing on the siding at White River Junction when the Canadian Express pulled by on its northward journey As the daycoaches at the rear end of the long train swept by him the lawyer noticed at one of the windows a mans head with thick rumpled hair Curious he thought that looked like Alexander but what would he be doing back there in the daycoaches
It was indeed Alexander
That morning a telegram from Moorlock had reached him telling him that there was serious trouble with the bridge and that he was needed there at once so he had caught the first train out of New York He had taken a seat in a daycoach to avoid the risk of meeting any one he knew and because he did not wish to be comfortable When the telegram arrived Alexander was at his rooms on Tenth Street packing his bag to go to Boston On Monday night he had written a long letter to his wife but when morning came he was afraid to send it and the letter was still in his pocket Winifred was not a woman who could bear disappointment She demanded a great deal of herself and of the people she loved and she never failed herself If he told her now he knew it would be irretrievable There would be no going back He would lose the thing he valued most in the world he would be destroying himself and his own happiness There would be nothing for him afterward He seemed to see himself dragging out a restless existence on the Continent—Cannes Hyeres Algiers Cairo—among smartly dressed disabled men of every nationality forever going on journeys that led nowhere hurrying to catch trains that he might just as well miss getting up in the morning with a great bustle and splashing of water to begin a day that had no purpose and no meaning dining late to shorten the night sleeping late to shorten the day
And for what For a mere folly a masquerade a little thing that he could not let go AND HE COULD EVEN LET IT GO he told himself But he had promised to be in London at midsummer and he knew that he would go It was impossible to live like this any longer
And this then was to be the disaster that his old professor had foreseen for him the crack in the wall the crash the cloud of dust And he could not understand how it had come about He felt that he himself was unchanged that he was still there the same man he had been five years ago and that he was sitting stupidly by and letting some resolute offshoot of himself spoil his life for him This new force was not he it was but a part of him He would not even admit that it was stronger than he but it was more active It was by its energy that this new feeling got the better of him His wife was the woman who had made his life gratified his pride given direction to his tastes and habits The life they led together seemed to him beautiful Winifred still was as she had always been Romance for him and whenever he was deeply stirred he turned to her When the grandeur and beauty of the world challenged him—as it challenges even the most selfabsorbed people—he always answered with her name That was his reply to the question put by the mountains and the stars to all the spiritual aspects of life In his feeling for his wife there was all the tenderness all the pride all the devotion of which he was capable There was everything but energy the energy of youth which must register itself and cut its name before it passes This new feeling was so fresh so unsatisfied and light of foot It ran and was not wearied anticipated him everywhere It put a girdle round the earth while he was going from New York to Moorlock At this moment it was tingling through him exultant and live as quicksilver whispering In July you will be in England
Already he dreaded the long empty days at sea the monotonous Irish coast the sluggish passage up the Mersey the flash of the boat train through the summer country He closed his eyes and gave himself up to the feeling of rapid motion and to swift terrifying thoughts He was sitting so his face shaded by his hand when the Boston lawyer saw him from the siding at White River Junction
When at last Alexander roused himself the afternoon had waned to sunset The train was passing through a gray country and the sky overhead was flushed with a wide flood of clear color There was a rosecolored light over the gray rocks and hills and meadows Off to the left under the approach of a weatherstained wooden bridge a group of boys were sitting around a little fire The smell of the wood smoke blew in at the window Except for an old farmer jogging along the highroad in his boxwagon there was not another living creature to be seen Alexander looked back wistfully at the boys camped on the edge of a little marsh crouching under their shelter and looking gravely at their fire They took his mind back a long way to a campfire on a sandbar in a Western river and he wished he could go back and sit down with them He could remember exactly how the world had looked then
It was quite dark and Alexander was still thinking of the boys when it occurred to him that the train must be nearing Allway In going to his new bridge at Moorlock he had always to pass through Allway The train stopped at Allway Mills then wound two miles up the river and then the hollow sound under his feet told Bartley that he was on his first bridge again The bridge seemed longer than it had ever seemed before and he was glad when he felt the beat of the wheels on the solid roadbed again He did not like coming and going across that bridge or remembering the man who built it And was he indeed the same man who used to walk that bridge at night promising such things to himself and to the stars And yet he could remember it all so well the quiet hills sleeping in the moonlight the slender skeleton of the bridge reaching out into the river and up yonder alone on the hill the big white house upstairs in Winifreds window the light that told him she was still awake and still thinking of him And after the light went out he walked alone taking the heavens into his confidence unable to tear himself away from the white magic of the night unwilling to sleep because longing was so sweet to him and because for the first time since first the hills were hung with moonlight there was a lover in the world And always there was the sound of the rushing water underneath the sound which more than anything else meant death the wearing away of things under the impact of physical forces which men could direct but never circumvent or diminish Then in the exaltation of love more than ever it seemed to him to mean death the only other thing as strong as love Under the moon under the cold splendid stars there were only those two things awake and sleepless death and love the rushing river and his burning heart
Alexander sat up and looked about him The train was tearing on through the darkness All his companions in the daycoach were either dozing or sleeping heavily and the murky lamps were turned low How came he here among all these dirty people Why was he going to London What did it mean—what was the answer How could this happen to a man who had lived through that magical spring and summer and who had felt that the stars themselves were but flaming particles in the faraway infinitudes of his love
What had he done to lose it How could he endure the baseness of life without it And with every revolution of the wheels beneath him the unquiet quicksilver in his breast told him that at midsummer he would be in London He remembered his last night there the red foggy darkness the hungry crowds before the theatres the handorgans the feverish rhythm of the blurred crowded streets and the feeling of letting himself go with the crowd He shuddered and looked about him at the poor unconscious companions of his journey unkempt and travelstained now doubled in unlovely attitudes who had come to stand to him for the ugliness he had brought into the world
And those boys back there beginning it all just as he had begun it he wished he could promise them better luck Ah if one could promise any one better luck if one could assure a single human being of happiness He had thought he could do so once and it was thinking of that that he at last fell asleep In his sleep as if it had nothing fresher to work upon his mind went back and tortured itself with something years and years away an old longforgotten sorrow of his childhood
When Alexander awoke in the morning the sun was just rising through pale golden ripples of cloud and the fresh yellow light was vibrating through the pine woods The white birches with their little unfolding leaves gleamed in the lowlands and the marsh meadows were already coming to life with their first green a thin bright color which had run over them like fire As the train rushed along the trestles thousands of wild birds rose screaming into the light The sky was already a pale blue and of the clearness of crystal Bartley caught up his bag and hurried through the Pullman coaches until he found the conductor There was a stateroom unoccupied and he took it and set about changing his clothes Last night he would not have believed that anything could be so pleasant as the cold water he dashed over his head and shoulders and the freshness of clean linen on his body
After he had dressed Alexander sat down at the window and drew into his lungs deep breaths of the pinescented air He had awakened with all his old sense of power He could not believe that things were as bad with him as they had seemed last night that there was no way to set them entirely right Even if he went to London at midsummer what would that mean except that he was a fool And he had been a fool before That was not the reality of his life Yet he knew that he would go to London
Half an hour later the train stopped at Moorlock Alexander sprang to the platform and hurried up the siding waving to Philip Horton one of his assistants who was anxiously looking up at the windows of the coaches Bartley took his arm and they went together into the station buffet
Ill have my coffee first Philip Have you had yours And now what seems to be the matter up here
The young man in a hurried nervous way began his explanation
But Alexander cut him short When did you stop work he asked sharply
The young engineer looked confused I havent stopped work yet Mr Alexander I didnt feel that I could go so far without definite authorization from you
Then why didnt you say in your telegram exactly what you thought and ask for your authorization Youd have got it quick enough
Well really Mr Alexander I couldnt be absolutely sure you know and I didnt like to take the responsibility of making it public
Alexander pushed back his chair and rose Anything I do can be made public Phil You say that you believe the lower chords are showing strain and that even the workmen have been talking about it and yet youve gone on adding weight
Im sorry Mr Alexander but I had counted on your getting here yesterday My first telegram missed you somehow I sent one Sunday evening to the same address but it was returned to me
Have you a carriage out there I must stop to send a wire
Alexander went up to the telegraphdesk and penciled the following message to his wife—
I may have to be here for some time Can you come up at once Urgent
BARTLEY
The Moorlock Bridge lay three miles above the town When they were seated in the carriage Alexander began to question his assistant further If it were true that the compression members showed strain with the bridge only two thirds done then there was nothing to do but pull the whole structure down and begin over again Horton kept repeating that he was sure there could be nothing wrong with the estimates
Alexander grew impatient Thats all true Phil but we never were justified in assuming that a scale that was perfectly safe for an ordinary bridge would work with anything of such length Its all very well on paper but it remains to be seen whether it can be done in practice I should have thrown up the job when they crowded me Its all nonsense to try to do what other engineers are doing when you know theyre not sound
But just now when there is such competition the younger man demurred And certainly thats the new line of development
Alexander shrugged his shoulders and made no reply
When they reached the bridge works Alexander began his examination immediately An hour later he sent for the superintendent I think you had better stop work out there at once Dan I should say that the lower chord here might buckle at any moment I told the Commission that we were using higher unit stresses than any practice has established and weve put the dead load at a low estimate Theoretically it worked out well enough but it had never actually been tried Alexander put on his overcoat and took the superintendent by the arm Dont look so chopfallen Dan Its a jolt but weve got to face it It isnt the end of the world you know Now well go out and call the men off quietly Theyre already nervous Horton tells me and theres no use alarming them Ill go with you and well send the end riveters in first
Alexander and the superintendent picked their way out slowly over the long span They went deliberately stopping to see what each gang was doing as if they were on an ordinary round of inspection When they reached the end of the river span Alexander nodded to the superintendent who quietly gave an order to the foreman The men in the end gang picked up their tools and glancing curiously at each other started back across the bridge toward the riverbank Alexander himself remained standing where they had been working looking about him It was hard to believe as he looked back over it that the whole great span was incurably disabled was already as good as condemned because something was out of line in the lower chord of the cantilever arm
The end riveters had reached the bank and were dispersing among the toolhouses and the second gang had picked up their tools and were starting toward the shore Alexander still standing at the end of the river span saw the lower chord of the cantilever arm give a little like an elbow bending He shouted and ran after the second gang but by this time every one knew that the big river span was slowly settling There was a burst of shouting that was immediately drowned by the scream and cracking of tearing iron as all the tension work began to pull asunder Once the chords began to buckle there were thousands of tons of ironwork all riveted together and lying in midair without support It tore itself to pieces with roaring and grinding and noises that were like the shrieks of a steam whistle There was no shock of any kind the bridge had no impetus except from its own weight It lurched neither to right nor left but sank almost in a vertical line snapping and breaking and tearing as it went because no integral part could bear for an instant the enormous strain loosed upon it Some of the men jumped and some ran trying to make the shore
At the first shriek of the tearing iron Alexander jumped from the downstream side of the bridge He struck the water without injury and disappeared He was under the river a long time and had great difficulty in holding his breath When it seemed impossible and his chest was about to heave he thought he heard his wife telling him that he could hold out a little longer An instant later his face cleared the water For a moment in the depths of the river he had realized what it would mean to die a hypocrite and to lie dead under the last abandonment of her tenderness But once in the light and air he knew he should live to tell her and to recover all he had lost Now at last he felt sure of himself He was not startled It seemed to him that he had been through something of this sort before There was nothing horrible about it This too was life and life was activity just as it was in Boston or in London He was himself and there was something to be done everything seemed perfectly natural Alexander was a strong swimmer but he had gone scarcely a dozen strokes when the bridge itself which had been settling faster and faster crashed into the water behind him Immediately the river was full of drowning men A gang of French Canadians fell almost on top of him He thought he had cleared them when they began coming up all around him clutching at him and at each other Some of them could swim but they were either hurt or crazed with fright Alexander tried to beat them off but there were too many of them One caught him about the neck another gripped him about the middle and they went down together When he sank his wife seemed to be there in the water beside him telling him to keep his head that if he could hold out the men would drown and release him There was something he wanted to tell his wife but he could not think clearly for the roaring in his ears Suddenly he remembered what it was He caught his breath and then she let him go
The work of recovering the dead went on all day and all the following night By the next morning fortyeight bodies had been taken out of the river but there were still twenty missing Many of the men had fallen with the bridge and were held down under the debris Early on the morning of the second day a closed carriage was driven slowly along the riverbank and stopped a little below the works where the river boiled and churned about the great iron carcass which lay in a straight line two thirds across it The carriage stood there hour after hour and word soon spread among the crowds on the shore that its occupant was the wife of the Chief Engineer his body had not yet been found The widows of the lost workmen moving up and down the bank with shawls over their heads some of them carrying babies looked at the rusty hired hack many times that morning They drew near it and walked about it but none of them ventured to peer within Even halfindifferent sightseers dropped their voices as they told a newcomer You see that carriage over there Thats Mrs Alexander They havent found him yet She got off the train this morning Horton met her She heard it in Boston yesterday—heard the newsboys crying it in the street
At noon Philip Horton made his way through the crowd with a tray and a tin coffeepot from the camp kitchen When he reached the carriage he found Mrs Alexander just as he had left her in the early morning leaning forward a little with her hand on the lowered window looking at the river Hour after hour she had been watching the water the lonely useless stone towers and the convulsed mass of iron wreckage over which the angry river continually spat up its yellow foam
Those poor women out there do they blame him very much she asked as she handed the coffeecup back to Horton
Nobody blames him Mrs Alexander If any one is to blame Im afraid its I I should have stopped work before he came He said so as soon as I met him I tried to get him here a day earlier but my telegram missed him somehow He didnt have time really to explain to me If hed got here Monday hed have had all the men off at once But you see Mrs Alexander such a thing never happened before According to all human calculations it simply couldnt happen
Horton leaned wearily against the front wheel of the cab He had not had his clothes off for thirty hours and the stimulus of violent excitement was beginning to wear off
Dont be afraid to tell me the worst Mr Horton Dont leave me to the dread of finding out things that people may be saying If he is blamed if he needs any one to speak for him—for the first time her voice broke and a flush of life tearful painful and confused swept over her rigid pallor—if he needs any one tell me show me what to do She began to sob and Horton hurried away
When he came back at four oclock in the afternoon he was carrying his hat in his hand and Winifred knew as soon as she saw him that they had found Bartley She opened the carriage door before he reached her and stepped to the ground
Horton put out his hand as if to hold her back and spoke pleadingly Wont you drive up to my house Mrs Alexander They will take him up there
Take me to him now please I shall not make any trouble
The group of men down under the riverbank fell back when they saw a woman coming and one of them threw a tarpaulin over the stretcher They took off their hats and caps as Winifred approached and although she had pulled her veil down over her face they did not look up at her She was taller than Horton and some of the men thought she was the tallest woman they had ever seen As tall as himself some one whispered Horton motioned to the men and six of them lifted the stretcher and began to carry it up the embankment Winifred followed them the halfmile to Hortons house She walked quietly without once breaking or stumbling When the bearers put the stretcher down in Hortons spare bedroom she thanked them and gave her hand to each in turn The men went out of the house and through the yard with their caps in their hands They were too much confused to say anything as they went down the hill
Horton himself was almost as deeply perplexed Mamie he said to his wife when he came out of the spare room half an hour later will you take Mrs Alexander the things she needs She is going to do everything herself Just stay about where you can hear her and go in if she wants you
Everything happened as Alexander had foreseen in that moment of prescience under the river With her own hands she washed him clean of every mark of disaster All night he was alone with her in the still house his great head lying deep in the pillow In the pocket of his coat Winifred found the letter that he had written her the night before he left New York watersoaked and illegible but because of its length she knew it had been meant for her
For Alexander death was an easy creditor Fortune which had smiled upon him consistently all his life did not desert him in the end His harshest critics did not doubt that had he lived he would have retrieved himself Even Lucius Wilson did not see in this accident the disaster he had once foretold
When a great man dies in his prime there is no surgeon who can say whether he did well whether or not the future was his as it seemed to be The mind that society had come to regard as a powerful and reliable machine dedicated to its service may for a long time have been sick within itself and bent upon its own destruction
EPILOGUE
Professor Wilson had been living in London for six years and he was just back from a visit to America One afternoon soon after his return he put on his frockcoat and drove in a hansom to pay a call upon Hilda Burgoyne who still lived at her old number off Bedford Square He and Miss Burgoyne had been fast friends for a long time He had first noticed her about the corridors of the British Museum where he read constantly Her being there so often had made him feel that he would like to know her and as she was not an inaccessible person an introduction was not difficult The preliminaries once over they came to depend a great deal upon each other and Wilson after his days reading often went round to Bedford Square for his tea They had much more in common than their memories of a common friend Indeed they seldom spoke of him They saved that for the deep moments which do not come often and then their talk of him was mostly silence Wilson knew that Hilda had loved him more than this he had not tried to know
It was late when Wilson reached Hildas apartment on this particular December afternoon and he found her alone She sent for fresh tea and made him comfortable as she had such a knack of making people comfortable
How good you were to come back before Christmas I quite dreaded the Holidays without you Youve helped me over a good many Christmases She smiled at him gayly
As if you needed me for that But at any rate I needed YOU How well you are looking my dear and how rested
He peered up at her from his low chair balancing the tips of his long fingers together in a judicial manner which had grown on him with years
Hilda laughed as she carefully poured his cream That means that I was looking very seedy at the end of the season doesnt it Well we must show wear at last you know
Wilson took the cup gratefully Ah no need to remind a man of seventy who has just been home to find that he has survived all his contemporaries I was most gently treated—as a sort of precious relic But do you know it made me feel awkward to be hanging about still
Seventy Never mention it to me Hilda looked appreciatively at the Professors alert face with so many kindly lines about the mouth and so many quizzical ones about the eyes Youve got to hang about for me you know I cant even let you go home again You must stay put now that I have you back Youre the realest thing I have
Wilson chuckled Dear me am I Out of so many conquests and the spoils of conquered cities Youve really missed me Well then I shall hang Even if you have at last to put ME in the mummyroom with the others Youll visit me often wont you
Every day in the calendar Here your cigarettes are in this drawer where you left them She struck a match and lit one for him But you did after all enjoy being at home again
Oh yes I found the long railway journeys trying People live a thousand miles apart But I did it thoroughly I was all over the place It was in Boston I lingered longest
Ah you saw Mrs Alexander
Often I dined with her and had tea there a dozen different times I should think Indeed it was to see her that I lingered on and on I found that I still loved to go to the house It always seemed as if Bartley were there somehow and that at any moment one might hear his heavy tramp on the stairs Do you know I kept feeling that he must be up in his study The Professor looked reflectively into the grate I should really have liked to go up there That was where I had my last long talk with him But Mrs Alexander never suggested it
Why
Wilson was a little startled by her tone and he turned his head so quickly that his cufflink caught the string of his noseglasses and pulled them awry Why Why dear me I dont know She probably never thought of it
Hilda bit her lip I dont know what made me say that I didnt mean to interrupt Go on please and tell me how it was
Well it was like that Almost as if he were there In a way he really is there She never lets him go Its the most beautiful and dignified sorrow Ive ever known Its so beautiful that it has its compensations I should think Its very completeness is a compensation It gives her a fixed star to steer by She doesnt drift We sat there evening after evening in the quiet of that magically haunted room and watched the sunset burn on the river and felt him Felt him with a difference of course
Hilda leaned forward her elbow on her knee her chin on her hand With a difference Because of her you mean
Wilsons brow wrinkled Something like that yes Of course as time goes on to her he becomes more and more their simple personal relation
Hilda studied the droop of the Professors head intently You didnt altogether like that You felt it wasnt wholly fair to him
Wilson shook himself and readjusted his glasses Oh fair enough More than fair Of course I always felt that my image of him was just a little different from hers No relation is so complete that it can hold absolutely all of a person And I liked him just as he was his deviations too the places where he didnt square
Hilda considered vaguely Has she grown much older she asked at last
Yes and no In a tragic way she is even handsomer But colder Cold for everything but him Forget thyself to marble I kept thinking of that Her happiness was a happiness a deux not apart from the world but actually against it And now her grief is like that She saves herself for it and doesnt even go through the form of seeing people much Im sorry It would be better for her and might be so good for them if she could let other people in
Perhaps shes afraid of letting him out a little of sharing him with somebody
Wilson put down his cup and looked up with vague alarm Dear me it takes a woman to think of that now I dont you know think we ought to be hard on her More even than the rest of us she didnt choose her destiny She underwent it And it has left her chilled As to her not wishing to take the world into her confidence—well it is a pretty brutal and stupid world after all you know
Hilda leaned forward Yes I know I know Only I cant help being glad that there was something for him even in stupid and vulgar people My little Marie worshiped him When she is dusting I always know when she has come to his picture
Wilson nodded Oh yes He left an echo The ripples go on in all of us He belonged to the people who make the play and most of us are only onlookers at the best We shouldnt wonder too much at Mrs Alexander She must feel how useless it would be to stir about that she may as well sit still that nothing can happen to her after Bartley
Yes said Hilda softly nothing can happen to one after Bartley
They both sat looking into the fire