Robbins, fifty, something of an overweight beau, and addicted5 to first nights and hotel palm-rooms, pretended to be envious6 of his partner's commuter's joys.
"Going to be something doing in the humidity line to-night," he said. "You out-of-town chaps will be the people, with your katydids and moonlight and long drinks and things out on the front porch."
Hartley, twenty-nine, serious, thin, good-looking, nervous, sighed and frowned a little.
"Yes," said he, "we always have cool nights in Floralhurst, especially in the winter."
A man with an air of mystery came in the door and went up to Hartley.
"I've found where she lives," he announced in the portentous7 half-whisper that makes the detective at work a marked being to his fellow men.
Hartley scowled8 him into a state of dramatic silence and quietude. But by that time Robbins had got his cane9 and set his tie pin to his liking10, and with a debonair11 nod went out to his metropolitan12 amusements.
"Here is the address," said the detective in a natural tone, being deprived of an audience to foil.
Hartley took the leaf torn out of the sleuth's dingy13 memorandum14 book. On it were pencilled the words "Vivienne Arlington, No. 341 East ––––th Street, care of Mrs. McComus."
"Moved there a week ago," said the detective. "Now, if you want any shadowing done, Mr. Hartley, I can do you as fine a job in that line as anybody in the city. It will be only $7 a day and expenses. Can send in a daily typewritten report, covering—"
"You needn't go on," interrupted the broker3. "It isn't a case of that kind. I merely wanted the address. How much shall I pay you?"
"One day's work," said the sleuth. "A tenner will cover it."
Hartley paid the man and dismissed him. Then he left the office and boarded a Broadway car. At the first large crosstown artery16 of travel he took an eastbound car that deposited him in a decaying avenue, whose ancient structures once sheltered the pride and glory of the town.
Walking a few squares, he came to the building that he sought. It was a new flathouse, bearing carved upon its cheap stone portal its sonorous17 name, "The Vallambrosa." Fire-escapes zigzagged18 down its front—these laden19 with household goods, drying clothes, and squalling children evicted20 by the midsummer heat. Here and there a pale rubber plant peeped from the miscellaneous mass, as if wondering to what kingdom it belonged—vegetable, animal or artificial.
Hartley pressed the "McComus" button. The door latch21 clicked spasmodically—now hospitably22, now doubtfully, as though in anxiety whether it might be admitting friends or duns. Hartley entered and began to climb the stairs after the manner of those who seek their friends in city flat-houses—which is the manner of a boy who climbs an apple-tree, stopping when he comes upon what he wants.
On the fourth floor he saw Vivienne standing23 in an open door. She invited him inside, with a nod and a bright, genuine smile. She placed a chair for him near a window, and poised24 herself gracefully25 upon the edge of one of those Jekyll-and-Hyde pieces of furniture that are masked and mysteriously hooded26, unguessable bulks by day and inquisitorial racks of torture by night.
Hartley cast a quick, critical, appreciative27 glance at her before speaking, and told himself that his taste in choosing had been flawless.
Vivienne was about twenty-one. She was of the purest Saxon type. Her hair was a ruddy golden, each filament28 of the neatly29 gathered mass shining with its own lustre30 and delicate graduation of colour. In perfect harmony were her ivory-clear complexion31 and deep sea-blue eyes that looked upon the world with the ingenuous32 calmness of a mermaid33 or the pixie of an undiscovered mountain stream. Her frame was strong and yet possessed34 the grace of absolute naturalness. And yet with all her Northern clearness and frankness of line and colouring, there seemed to be something of the tropics in her—something of languor35 in the droop36 of her pose, of love of ease in her ingenious complacency of satisfaction and comfort in the mere15 act of breathing—something that seemed to claim for her a right as a perfect work of nature to exist and be admired equally with a rare flower or some beautiful, milk-white dove among its sober-hued companions.
She was dressed in a white waist and dark skirt—that discreet37 masquerade of goose-girl and duchess.
"Vivienne," said Hartley, looking at her pleadingly, "you did not answer my last letter. It was only by nearly a week's search that I found where you had moved to. Why have you kept me in suspense38 when you knew how anxiously I was waiting to see you and hear from you?"
The girl looked out the window dreamily.
"Mr. Hartley," she said hesitatingly, "I hardly know what to say to you. I realize all the advantages of your offer, and sometimes I feel sure that I could be contented39 with you. But, again, I am doubtful. I was born a city girl, and I am afraid to bind40 myself to a quiet suburban41 life."
"My dear girl," said Hartley, ardently42, "have I not told you that you shall have everything that your heart can desire that is in my power to give you? You shall come to the city for the theatres, for shopping and to visit your friends as often as you care to. You can trust me, can you not?"
"To the fullest," she said, turning her frank eyes upon him with a smile. "I know you are the kindest of men, and that the girl you get will be a lucky one. I learned all about you when I was at the Montgomerys'."
"Ah!" exclaimed Hartley, with a tender, reminiscent light in his eye; "I remember well the evening I first saw you at the Montgomerys'. Mrs. Montgomery was sounding your praises to me all the evening. And she hardly did you justice. I shall never forget that supper. Come, Vivienne, promise me. I want you. You'll never regret coming with me. No one else will ever give you as pleasant a home."
The girl sighed and looked down at her folded hands.
A sudden jealous suspicion seized Hartley.
"Tell me, Vivienne," he asked, regarding her keenly, "is there another—is there some one else ?"
"You shouldn't ask that, Mr. Hartley," she said, in some confusion. "But I will tell you. There is one other—but he has no right—I have promised him nothing."
"His name?" demanded Hartley, sternly.
"Townsend."
"Rafford Townsend!" exclaimed Hartley, with a grim tightening44 of his jaw45. "How did that man come to know you? After all I've done for him—"
"His auto46 has just stopped below," said Vivienne, bending over the window-sill. "He's coming for his answer. Oh I don't know what to do!"
The bell in the flat kitchen whirred. Vivienne hurried to press the latch button.
"Stay here," said Hartley. "I will meet him in the hall."
Townsend, looking like a Spanish grandee47 in his light tweeds, Panama hat and curling black mustache, came up the stairs three at a time. He stopped at sight of Hartley and looked foolish.
"Go back," said Hartley, firmly, pointing downstairs with his forefinger48.
"Go back," repeated Hartley, inflexibly50. "The Law of the Jungle. Do you want the Pack to tear you in pieces? The kill is mine."
"All right," said Hartley. "You shall have that lying plaster to stick upon your traitorous52 soul. But, go back." Townsend went downstairs, leaving a bitter word to be wafted53 up the draught54 of the staircase. Hartley went back to his wooing.
"Vivienne," said he, masterfully. "I have got to have you. I will take no more refusals or dilly-dallying."
"When do you want me?" she asked.
"Now. As soon as you can get ready."
She stood calmly before him and looked him in the eye.
"Do you think for one moment," she said, "that I would enter your home while Héloise is there?"
Hartley cringed as if from an unexpected blow. He folded his arms and paced the carpet once or twice.
"She shall go," he declared grimly. Drops stood upon his brow. "Why should I let that woman make my life miserable55? Never have I seen one day of freedom from trouble since I have known her. You are right, Vivienne. Héloise must be sent away before I can take you home. But she shall go. I have decided56. I will turn her from my doors."
"When will you do this?" asked the girl.
"To-night," he said, resolutely59. "I will send her away to-night."
"Then," said Vivienne, "my answer is 'yes.' Come for me when you will."
She looked into his eyes with a sweet, sincere light in her own. Hartley could scarcely believe that her surrender was true, it was so swift and complete.
"Promise me," he said feelingly, "on your word and honour."
"On my word and honour," repeated Vivienne, softly.
At the door he turned and gazed at her happily, but yet as one who scarcely trusts the foundations of his joy.
"To-morrow," she repeated with a smile of truth and candour.
In an hour and forty minutes Hartley stepped off the train at Floralhurst. A brisk walk of ten minutes brought him to the gate of a handsome two-story cottage set upon a wide and well-tended lawn. Halfway61 to the house he was met by a woman with jet-black braided hair and flowing white summer gown, who half strangled him without apparent cause.
When they stepped into the hall she said:
"Mamma's here. The auto is coming for her in half an hour. She came to dinner, but there's no dinner."
"I've something to tell you," said Hartley. "I thought to break it to you gently, but since your mother is here we may as well out with it."
He stooped and whispered something at her ear.
His wife screamed. Her mother came running into the hall. The dark-haired woman screamed again—the joyful62 scream of a well-beloved and petted woman.
"Oh, mamma!" she cried ecstatically, "what do you think? Vivienne is coming to cook for us! She is the one that stayed with the Montgomerys a whole year. And now, Billy, dear," she concluded, "you must go right down into the kitchen and discharge Héloise. She has been drunk again the whole day long."
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1
gilt
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| adj.镀金的；n.金边证券 | |
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brokers
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| n.（股票、外币等）经纪人( broker的名词复数 )；中间人；代理商；（订合同的）中人v.做掮客（或中人等）( broker的第三人称单数 )；作为权力经纪人进行谈判；以中间人等身份安排… | |
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broker
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| n.中间人，经纪人；v.作为中间人来安排 | |
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puff
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| n.一口(气)；一阵(风)；v.喷气，喘气 | |
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addicted
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| adj.沉溺于....的，对...上瘾的 | |
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envious
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| adj.嫉妒的，羡慕的 | |
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portentous
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| adj.不祥的，可怕的，装腔作势的 | |
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scowled
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| 怒视，生气地皱眉( scowl的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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cane
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| n.手杖，细长的茎，藤条；v.以杖击，以藤编制的 | |
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10
liking
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| n.爱好；嗜好；喜欢 | |
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debonair
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| adj.殷勤的，快乐的 | |
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metropolitan
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| adj.大城市的，大都会的 | |
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dingy
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| adj.昏暗的，肮脏的 | |
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memorandum
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| n.备忘录，便笺 | |
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15
mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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16
artery
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| n.干线，要道；动脉 | |
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sonorous
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| adj.响亮的，回响的；adv.圆润低沉地；感人地；n.感人，堂皇 | |
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18
zigzagged
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| adj.呈之字形移动的v.弯弯曲曲地走路，曲折地前进( zigzag的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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laden
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| adj.装满了的；充满了的；负了重担的；苦恼的 | |
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20
evicted
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| v.（依法从房屋里或土地上）驱逐，赶出( evict的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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21
latch
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| n.门闩，窗闩；弹簧锁 | |
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hospitably
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| 亲切地，招待周到地，善于款待地 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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24
poised
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| a.摆好姿势不动的 | |
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gracefully
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| ad.大大方方地；优美地 | |
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26
hooded
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| adj.戴头巾的；有罩盖的；颈部因肋骨运动而膨胀的 | |
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27
appreciative
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| adj.有鉴赏力的，有眼力的；感激的 | |
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filament
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| n.细丝；长丝；灯丝 | |
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neatly
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| adv.整洁地，干净地，灵巧地，熟练地 | |
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30
lustre
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| n.光亮，光泽；荣誉 | |
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31
complexion
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| n.肤色；情况，局面；气质，性格 | |
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32
ingenuous
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| adj.纯朴的，单纯的；天真的；坦率的 | |
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mermaid
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| n.美人鱼 | |
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possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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languor
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| n.无精力，倦怠 | |
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36
droop
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| v.低垂，下垂；凋萎，萎靡 | |
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37
discreet
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| adj.(言行)谨慎的；慎重的；有判断力的 | |
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38
suspense
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| n.（对可能发生的事）紧张感，担心，挂虑 | |
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39
contented
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| adj.满意的，安心的，知足的 | |
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40
bind
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| vt.捆，包扎；装订；约束；使凝固；vi.变硬 | |
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41
suburban
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| adj.城郊的，在郊区的 | |
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42
ardently
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| adv.热心地，热烈地 | |
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43
rosy
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| adj.美好的，乐观的，玫瑰色的 | |
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44
tightening
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| 上紧，固定，紧密 | |
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45
jaw
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| n.颚，颌，说教，流言蜚语；v.喋喋不休，教训 | |
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46
auto
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| n.(=automobile)(口语)汽车 | |
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47
grandee
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| n.贵族；大公 | |
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48
forefinger
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| n.食指 | |
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49
feigning
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| 假装，伪装( feign的现在分词 )； 捏造（借口、理由等） | |
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50
inflexibly
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| adv.不屈曲地，不屈地 | |
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51
plumber
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| n.(装修水管的)管子工 | |
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52
traitorous
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| adj. 叛国的, 不忠的, 背信弃义的 | |
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53
wafted
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| v.吹送，飘送，（使）浮动( waft的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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54
draught
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| n.拉，牵引，拖；一网（饮，吸，阵)；顿服药量，通风；v.起草，设计 | |
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55
miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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56
decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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57
clinched
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| v.（尤指两人）互相紧紧抱[扭]住( clinch的过去式和过去分词 )；解决（争端、交易），达成（协议） | |
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58
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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59
resolutely
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| adj.坚决地，果断地 | |
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60
reminder
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| n.提醒物，纪念品；暗示，提示 | |
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61
halfway
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| adj.中途的，不彻底的，部分的；adv.半路地，在中途，在半途 | |
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62
joyful
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| adj.欢乐的，令人欢欣的 | |
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