The dinner hour arrived and with it the Ledyards and their house-guests, Angela Wetherill, Millicent Reeves, the Perrines, Jane Loring, Percy Endicott, Coleman Van Duyn and some of the Warrenton folk. Dinner tables, each with six chairs, had been laid in the dining-room and hall, but so perfect was the machinery6 of the great establishment that the influx7 of guests made no apparent difference in its orderly procedure. There were good-natured[298] comments on Bibby Worthington’s defeat in the afternoon, congratulations for Nina Jaffray on her dual8 achievement, uncomplimentary remarks about Virginia clay, flattering ones about Virginia hospitality and the usual discussion about breeds of hounds and horses, back of which was to be discovered the ancient rivalry9 between the Cedarcroft and Apawomeck hunt clubs.
Nellie Pennington directed the destinies of the table at which Gallatin sat. Nina Jaffray was on his right, Larry Kane beyond her, Coleman Van Duyn on Mrs. Pennington’s left and Jane Loring opposite. Nothing could possibly have been arranged which could conspire10 more thoroughly11 to lacerate the feelings of those assembled. Gallatin saw Jane halt when she was directed to her seat, he heard Nina’s titter of delight beside him, caught Larry Kane’s glare and Coley Van Duyn’s flush, but the stab of Jane’s eyes hardened him into an immediate12 gayety in which Nina was not slow to follow. Mrs. Pennington having devised the situation, calmly sat and proceeded to enjoy it. Good breeding, she knew, made a fair amalgam13 of the most heterogeneous14 elements, but she gave a short sigh when they were all seated and each began talking rapidly to his neighbor, Jane to Larry Kane, Nina to Phil and herself to Coley. Pangs15 in every heart except her own! It was the perfection of social cruelty, and she enjoyed it hugely, aware that two, perhaps three, of the persons at the table might never care to speak to her again, but stimulated16 by the reflection, whether for bad or good, something must come out of her crucible17. The first shock of dismay over, it was apparent that her dinner partners had decided18 to make the best of the situation. The table was small, and general conversation inevitable19, but she chose for the present to let matters take their course, trusting to Nina to provide[299] that element of uncertainty20 which was to make the plot of her comedy fruitful.
Indeed, Nina seemed in her element, and, when a sudden silence fell, broke the ice with a carelessness which showed her quite oblivious21 of its existence.
“So nice of you, Nellie, to have us all together! I was just saying to Phil that dinners at small tables can be such a bore, if the people are not all congenial.”
“Jolly, isn’t it?” laughed Nellie. “Jane, why weren’t you hunting this morning?”
“Oh, Coley didn’t want to,” she said quickly, her rapier flashing in two directions.
Nellie Pennington understood.
“You are getting heavy, aren’t you, Coley?” she asked sweetly. “Didn’t Honora have anything up to your weight?”
“I didn’t ask,” returned Van Duyn peevishly22. “Dreadful bore, huntin’——”
“Hear the man!” exclaimed Nellie. “You’re spoiling him, Jane.”
“There’s no hope for any creature who doesn’t like hunting,” put in Nina in disgust.
“Except the fox,” said Gallatin.
“And there’s not much for him when Nina rides,” laughed Larry Kane. “Lord, Nina, but you did take some chances to-day.”
“I believe in taking chances,” put in Miss Jaffray calmly. “The element of uncertainty is all that makes life worth while. Nothing in the world is so deadly as the obvious.”
“You’ll be kept busy avoiding it,” sighed Nellie. “I’ve been.”
“Oh, I simply ignore it,” she returned, with a quick gesture. “Jane won’t approve, of course; but the unusual,[300] the daring, the unconventional are the only things that interest me at all.”
“They interest others when you do them, Nina,” Jane replied smiling calmly.
“Of course, they do. And you ought to be grateful.”
“We are. I’m sure we’d be very dull without you. Personally I’m a bromide.”
“Heaven forbid! The things that are easiest are not worth trying for. Whether your game is fish, fowl23 or beast (and that includes man), try the most difficult. The thrill of delight when you bag your game is worth all the pains of the effort. Isn’t it, Nellie?”
“I don’t know,” the other replied, between oysters24. “I bagged Dick, but then I didn’t have to try very hard. I suppose I would have bagged him just the same. A woman can have any man she wants, you know.”
“The trouble is,” laughed Larry Kane, “that she doesn’t know what she wants.”
“And, if she does, Larry,” said Gallatin slowly, “he’s usually the wrong one.”
Nina laughed.
“His sex must be blamed for that. The right men are all wrong and the wrong men are all right. That’s my experience. ‘Young saint, old devil; young devil, old saint.’ You couldn’t provide me with a better recommendation for a good husband than a bad reputation as a bachelor. And think of the calm delights of regeneration!”
“You’ll have no difficulty in finding him, Nina,” said Jane.
“I’m afraid there’s no hope for me,” laughed Kane. “I, for one, am too good for any use.”
“Too good to be true,” sniffed25 Nina.
[301]
“Or too true to be interesting,” he added, below his breath.
Nellie Pennington, having led her companions into deep water, now turned and guided them into the shoals of the commonplace. Jane Loring’s eyes and Phil Gallatin’s had met across the table. The act was unavoidable for they sat directly opposite each other and, though each looked away at once, the current established, brief as it was, was burdened with meaning. Gallatin read a hundred things, but love was not one of them. Jane read a hundred things any one of which might have been love, but, as far as she knew, was not. Gallatin caught the end of a gaze she had given him while he was talking to Nina, and he fancied it to be a kind of indignant curiosity, not in the slightest degree related to the scorn of her surprise at being detected in the midst of her inspection26. Gallatin found her face thinner, which made her eyes seem larger and the shadows under them deeper. He had seen fresh young beauty such as hers break and fade during one season in New York, but it shocked him a little to find these marks so evident in so short a time. It was as though a year, two years even, had been crowded into the few weeks since he had seen her last, as though she had lived at high tension, letting nothing escape her that could add to the sum of experience. Her eyes sparkled, and on her cheeks was a patch of red clearly defined, like rouge27, but not rouge, for it came and went with her humor. She had grown older, more intense, more fragile, her features more clearly carved, more refined and—except for the hard little shadows at the corners of her lips—more spiritual.
He glanced at the heavy, bovine28 face of Coley Van Duyn beside her and wondered. Coley had been drinking freely and his face was flushed, his laugh open-mouthed and louder than Nellie Pennington’s humor seemed to warrant.[302] How could she? God! How could she do it?
A blind rage came upon Gallatin, a sudden wave of intolerance and rebellion, and he clenched29 his fists beneath the table. This man drank as much as he liked and when he pleased. He was the club glutton30. He ate immoderately and drank immoderately, because he liked to do it, and because that was his notion of comfort. Not, as had been the case with Gallatin, because he had not been able to live without it. Van Duyn could stop drinking when he liked, when he had had enough, when he didn’t want any more. He drank for the mere31 pleasure of drinking. Gallatin bit his lip and stared at his untouched wine glasses. Pleasure? With Gallatin it had been no pleasure. It had been a medicine, a desperate remedy for a desperate pain, a poisonous medicine which cured and killed at the same time.
“Phil!” Nina’s voice sounded suddenly at his ear. “Are you ill?”
“Not in the least.”
“You haven32’t listened to a word I’ve been saying, and it was so interesting.”
He laughed.
“What were you thinking of?”
“My sins.”
“Then I don’t wonder that you looked so badly.”
But it was clear that she understood him, for after a short silence she spoke33 of other things.
The dinner having progressed to the salad course, visiting was in order, and the guests sauntered from table to table, exchanging chairs and partners. Jane Loring was one of the first to take advantage of this opportunity to escape, and found a seat at Honora Ledyard’s table between Bibby Worthington and Percy Endicott.
Nellie Pennington watched her departure calmly, for[303] she had learned what she had set out to learn. All women, no matter how youthful, are clever at dissimulation34, but the art being common to all women, deceives none. And Jane, skillful though she had been in hiding her thoughts from Gallatin, deceived neither Nellie Pennington nor Nina Jaffray.
Dinner over, Nellie Pennington followed the crowd to the gunroom. The married set were already at their auction35 and somebody beckoned36 to her to make a four, but she refused. On this night she had a mission. She wandered from group to group, keeping one eye on Jane and the other on Phil, until the music began, when with one accord, all but the most devoted37 of the bridge-players returned to the hall, from which the furniture had been cleared, and where the polished wax surface shone invitingly38. Mrs. Pennington waited until the waltz was well under way and saw Jane Loring circling the room safely with Larry Kane, when she went into the library alone. Her thought had crystallized into a definite plan.
It was at the end of the third dance when Jane, on the arm of Percy Endicott was on her way to the terrace for a breath of air, that Bibby Worthington slipped a note into her fingers. She excused herself and took it to the nearest electric bulb. She knew the handwriting at once. It was in Nina Jaffray’s picturesque39 scrawl40.
“Jane, dear,” it ran. “I must see you for a moment about something which concerns you intimately. Meet me at twelve by the fountain in the loggia of the tennis court.
“Nina.”
Jane turned the note over and re-read it; then with quick scorn, tore it into tiny pieces and scattered41 them into the bushes. The impudence42 of her! She had given Nina credit for better taste. What right had she to[304] intrude43 again in Jane’s private affairs when she must know how little her offices were appreciated? And yet, what was this she had to say? Something that concerned Jane intimately? What could that be unless——
Coleman Van Duyn appeared and claimed the next dance, which he begged that she would sit out. Jane agreed because it would give her a chance to think. There was little real exertion44 required in talking to Coley.
What could Nina want to tell her? And where—did she say? In the loggia of the tennis court—at twelve. It must be almost that now.
At five minutes of twelve Nellie Pennington handed Gallatin a note.
“From Nina,” she whispered. “It’s really outrageous45, Phil, the way you’re flirting46 with that trusting child. I’m sure you ought to be ashamed of yourself.”
The tennis court was at the far end of the long house. It was reached by passing first a succession of rooms which made up the main building, into the conservatory47, by the swimming-pool and loggia. The loggia was a red-tiled portico48, enclosed in glass during the winter, in the center of which was a fountain surrounded by a circular marble bench, all filched49 from an old Etruscan villa50. To-night it was unlighted except by the glow from the bronze Japanese lamps in the conservatory; an ideal spot for a tryst51, so far removed from the main body of the house and so cool in winter that it was seldom used except as a promenade52 or as a haven by those purposely belated. Gallatin, the scrap53 of paper in his fingers, strolled through the deserted54 halls, smoking thoughtfully. Nina Jaffray was beginning to grate just a little on his nerves. He had no idea what she wanted of him and he didn’t much care.
He only knew that it was almost time for him to make[305] his meaning clear to her in terms which might not be misunderstood. As he entered the obscurity of the loggia, he saw the head and shoulders of a figure in white above the back of the stone bench.
“You wanted to see me?” he said.
At the sound of his voice, the figure rose, stood poised55 breathless, and he saw that it was not Nina.
“I?” Jane’s voice answered.
He stopped and the cigarette slipped from his fingers.
“I—I beg pardon. I was told that——”
“That I wanted to see you?” she broke in scornfully.
“No. Not you—” he replied, still puzzled.
“There has been a mistake, Mr. Gallatin. I do not want to see you. If you’ll excuse me——”
She made a movement to go, but Gallatin stood in the aperture56, the only avenue of escape, and did not move. His hands were at his sides, his head bent57 forward, his eyes gazing into the pool.
“Wait—” he muttered, as though to himself. “Don’t go yet. I’ve something to say—just a word—it will not take a moment. Will you listen?”
“I suppose I—I must,” she stammered58.
“I hear—” he began painfully, “that it’s true that you’re going to marry Mr. Van Duyn.”
“And what if it is?” she flashed at him.
“Nothing—except that I hope you’ll be happy. I wish you——”
“Thanks,” dryly. “When I’m ready for the good wishes—of—of anybody, I’ll ask for them. At present—will you let me pass, please?”
“Yes—in a moment. I thought perhaps you might be willing to tell me whether it’s true, the report of your engagement?”
[306]
“I can’t see how that can be any interest of yours.”
“Only the interest of one you once cared for and who——”
“Mr. Gallatin, I forbid it,” she said hurriedly. “Would you be so unmanly as to take advantage of your position here? Isn’t it enough that I no longer care to know you, that I prefer to choose my own friends?”
“Will you answer my question?” he repeated doggedly59.
“No. You have no right to question me.”
“I’m assuming the right. Your memory of the past——”
“There is no past. It was the dream of a silly child in another world where men were honest and women clean. I’ve grown older, Mr. Gallatin.”
“Yes, but not in mercy, not in compassion60, not in charity.”
“Speak of virtue61 before you speak of mercy, of pride before compassion, of decency62 before charity—if you can,” she added contemptuously.
“You’re cruel,” he muttered, “horribly so.”
“I’m wiser than I was. The world has done me that service. And if cruelty is the price of wisdom, I’ll pay it. Baseness, meanness, improbity in business or in morals no longer surprise me. They’re woven into the tissue of life. I can abominate63 the conditions that cause them, but they are the world. And, until I choose to live alone, I must accept them even if I despise the men and women who practice them, Mr. Gallatin.”
“And you call this wisdom? This disbelief in everything—in everybody, this threadbare creed64 of the jaded65 women of the world?”
“Call it what you like. Neither your opinions nor your principles (or the lack of them) mean anything to[307] me. If I had known you were here I should not have come to-night. I pray that we may never meet again.”
He stood silent a long moment, searching her face with his eyes. She was so cold, so white and wraithlike66, and her voice was so strange, so impersonal67, that he was almost ready to believe that she was some one else. It was the voice of a woman without a soul—a calm, ruthless voice which sought to wound, to injure or destroy. It had been on his lips to speak of the past, to translate into the words the pain at his heart. He had been ready to take one step forward, to seize her in his arms and compel her by the might of his tenderness to return the love that he bore her. If he had done so then, perhaps fortune would have favored him—have favored them both; for in the hour of their greatest intolerance women are sometimes most vulnerable. But he could not. Her words chilled him to insensibility, scourged68 his pride and made him dumb and unyielding.
“If that is your wish,” he said quietly, “I will do my best to respect it. I’d like you to remember one thing, though, and that is that this meeting was not of my seeking. If I’ve detained you, it was with the hope that perhaps you might be willing to listen to the truth, to learn what a dreadful mistake you have made, of the horrible wrong you have done——”
“To you?”
“No,” sternly. “To Nina Jaffray. Think what you like of me,” he went on with sudden passion. “It doesn’t matter. You can’t make a new pain sharper than the old one. But you’ve got to do justice to her.”
“What is the use, Mr. Gallatin?”
“It’s a lie that they’ve told, a cruel lie, as you’ll learn some day when it will be too late to repair the wrong you’ve done.”
[308]
“I don’t believe that it was a lie, Mr. Gallatin. A lie will not persist against odds69. This does. You’ve done your duty. Now please let me go.”
“Not yet. You needn’t be afraid of me.”
“Let me pass.”
“In a moment—when you listen. You must. Nina Jaffray is blameless. She would not deny such a story. It would demean her to deny it as it demeans me.”
“It does demean you,” she broke in pitilessly, “as other things have demeaned you. Shame, Mr. Gallatin! Do you think I could believe the word of a man who seeks revenge for a woman’s indifference70? Who finding her invulnerable goes to the ends of his resources to attack the members of her family? Trying by methods known only to himself and those of his kind to hinder the success of those more diligent71 than himself, to smirch the good name of an honest man, to obtain money——”
“Stop,” cried Gallatin hoarsely72, and in spite of herself she obeyed. For he was leaning forward toward her, the long fingers of one hand trembling before him.
“You’ve gone almost too far, Miss Loring,” he whispered. “You are talking about things of which you know nothing. I will not speak of that, nor shall you, for whatever our relations have been or are now, nothing in them justifies73 that insult. Time will prove the right or the wrong of the matter between Henry K. Loring and me as time will prove the right and the wrong to his daughter. I ask nothing of her now, nor ever shall, not even a thought. The girl I am thinking of was gentle, kind, sincere. She looked with the eyes of compassion, the far-seeing gaze of innocence74 unclouded by bitterness or doubt. I gave her all that was best in me, all that was honest, all that was true, and in return she gave me courage, purpose, resolution. I loved her for herself, because she was[309] herself, but more for the things she represented—purity, nobility, strength which I drew from her like an inspiration. It was to her that I owed the will to conquer myself, the purpose to win back my self-respect. I thanked God for her then and I’m thankful now, but I’m more thankful that I’m no longer dependent on her.”
Jane had sunk on the bench again, her head bent and a sound came from her lips. But he did not hear it.
“I do not need her now,” he went on quietly. “What she was is only a memory; what she is, only a regret. I shall live without her. I shall live without any woman, for no woman could ever be to me what that memory is. I love it passionately75, reverently76, madly, tenderly, and will be true to it, as I have always been. And, if ever the moment comes when the woman that girl has grown to be looks into the past, let her remember that love knows not doubt or bitterness, that it lives upon itself, is sufficient unto itself and that, whatever happens, is faithful until death.”
He stopped and stepped aside.
“I have finished, Miss Loring. Now go!”
The peremptory77 note startled her and she straightened and slowly rose. His head was bowed but his finger pointed78 toward the door of the conservatory. As she passed him she hesitated as though about to speak, and then slowly raising her head walked past him and disappeared.
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1
leisurely
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| adj.悠闲的；从容的，慢慢的 | |
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knack
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| n.诀窍，做事情的灵巧的，便利的方法 | |
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derisive
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| adj.嘲弄的 | |
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plunge
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| v.跳入，(使)投入，(使)陷入；猛冲 | |
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dressing
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| n.(食物)调料；包扎伤口的用品，敷料 | |
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machinery
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| n.(总称)机械，机器；机构 | |
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influx
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| n.流入，注入 | |
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dual
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| adj.双的；二重的，二元的 | |
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rivalry
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| n.竞争，竞赛，对抗 | |
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conspire
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| v.密谋，（事件等）巧合，共同导致 | |
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thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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immediate
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| adj.立即的；直接的，最接近的；紧靠的 | |
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amalgam
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| n.混合物；汞合金 | |
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heterogeneous
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| adj.庞杂的；异类的 | |
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pangs
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| 突然的剧痛( pang的名词复数 )； 悲痛 | |
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stimulated
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| a.刺激的 | |
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crucible
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| n.坩锅，严酷的考验 | |
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decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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inevitable
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| adj.不可避免的，必然发生的 | |
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uncertainty
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| n.易变，靠不住，不确知，不确定的事物 | |
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oblivious
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| adj.易忘的，遗忘的，忘却的，健忘的 | |
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peevishly
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| adv．暴躁地 | |
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fowl
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| n.家禽，鸡，禽肉 | |
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oysters
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| 牡蛎( oyster的名词复数 ) | |
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sniffed
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| v.以鼻吸气，嗅，闻( sniff的过去式和过去分词 )；抽鼻子（尤指哭泣、患感冒等时出声地用鼻子吸气）；抱怨，不以为然地说 | |
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inspection
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rouge
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| n.胭脂，口红唇膏；v.(在…上)擦口红 | |
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bovine
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clenched
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| v.紧握，抓紧，咬紧( clench的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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glutton
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| n.贪食者，好食者 | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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haven
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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dissimulation
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| n.掩饰，虚伪，装糊涂 | |
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auction
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| n.拍卖；拍卖会；vt.拍卖 | |
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beckoned
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devoted
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| adj.忠诚的，忠实的，热心的，献身于...的 | |
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invitingly
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| adv. 动人地 | |
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picturesque
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| adj.美丽如画的，（语言）生动的，绘声绘色的 | |
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scrawl
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| vt.潦草地书写；n.潦草的笔记，涂写 | |
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scattered
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| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
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impudence
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| n.厚颜无耻；冒失；无礼 | |
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intrude
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| vi.闯入；侵入；打扰，侵扰 | |
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exertion
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| n.尽力，努力 | |
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outrageous
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| adj.无理的，令人不能容忍的 | |
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flirting
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| v.调情，打情骂俏( flirt的现在分词 ) | |
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conservatory
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| n.温室，音乐学院；adj.保存性的，有保存力的 | |
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portico
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| n.柱廊，门廊 | |
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filched
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| v.偷（尤指小的或不贵重的物品）( filch的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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villa
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| n.别墅，城郊小屋 | |
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51
tryst
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| n.约会；v.与…幽会 | |
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promenade
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| n./v.散步 | |
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scrap
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| n.碎片；废料；v.废弃，报废 | |
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deserted
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| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
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poised
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| a.摆好姿势不动的 | |
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aperture
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| n.孔，隙，窄的缺口 | |
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bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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stammered
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| v.结巴地说出( stammer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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doggedly
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| adv.顽强地，固执地 | |
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compassion
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| n.同情，怜悯 | |
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virtue
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| n.德行，美德；贞操；优点；功效，效力 | |
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decency
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| n.体面，得体，合宜，正派，庄重 | |
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abominate
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| v.憎恨，厌恶 | |
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creed
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| n.信条；信念，纲领 | |
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jaded
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| adj.精疲力竭的；厌倦的；（因过饱或过多而）腻烦的；迟钝的 | |
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wraithlike
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impersonal
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| adj.无个人感情的，与个人无关的，非人称的 | |
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scourged
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| 鞭打( scourge的过去式和过去分词 )； 惩罚，压迫 | |
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odds
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| n.让步，机率，可能性，比率；胜败优劣之别 | |
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indifference
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| n.不感兴趣，不关心，冷淡，不在乎 | |
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diligent
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| adj.勤勉的，勤奋的 | |
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hoarsely
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| adv.嘶哑地 | |
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justifies
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| 证明…有理( justify的第三人称单数 )； 为…辩护； 对…作出解释； 为…辩解（或辩护） | |
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innocence
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| n.无罪；天真；无害 | |
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passionately
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| ad.热烈地，激烈地 | |
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reverently
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| adv.虔诚地 | |
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peremptory
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| adj.紧急的，专横的，断然的 | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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