THE REVELATION
The toilets of the young ladies were nearly completed, but, without
waiting to add another touch, all hastened to the place where they had
left Dennis. One of the colorless young ladies appeared upon the scene
with a shawl around her bare shoulders, and a great deal of color on
one cheek, and none on the other as yet; but this slight discrepancy
was unnoted in the dire calamity they feared.
Many were the exclamations and lamentations.
"Why, the people will be here in fifteen minutes," said Miss Winthrop,
in a nervous tremor.
"Did he leave no word?" asked Miss Brown of the servants.
"No word, mum," was the dismal echo.
"What shall we do?" they said, looking at one another with blank faces;
but none could answer.
"I do hate such proud, freakish people. There is no managing or
depending on them," said Miss Brown, spitefully.
Miss Winthrop bit her lips to keep from saying to her hostess what
would be more true than polite. There was a flash of anger in
Christine's dark blue eyes, and she said, coldly: "I imagine that you
have finished the business this time, Miss Brown. But I confess that
I am greatly surprised, for he said I could depend upon him for
to-night."
"So you can," said Dennis, coming in behind them. "I am sorry you have
had this needless alarm. But the fact is, I am a plain, ordinary mortal,
and live in a very material way."
"There was plenty of lunch in the dining-room," said Miss Brown, tartly.
"You need not have gone out and made all this trouble."
"Pardon me for slighting your hospitality," said Dennis, with slight
emphasis on the word.
Again significant glances were exchanged. Miss Brown darted a black
look at Dennis, and left the room.
"I can assure you, ladies," added he, "that all is ready. I can lay
my hand in a moment on whatever is needed. Therefore you need give
yourselves no further anxiety."
There was a general stampede for the dressing-rooms, but Miss Winthrop
lingered. When Dennis was alone she went up to him and frankly gave
her hand, saying: "Mr. Fleet, I wish to thank you for your course
to-day. Between Miss Ludolph's unwitting sermon and your brave and
unexpected vindication of our faith, I hope to become more deserving
of the name of Christian. You are a gentleman, sir, in the truest and
best sense of the word, and as such it will ever be a pleasure to
welcome you at my father's house;" and she gave him her card.
A flush of grateful surprise and pleasure mantled Dennis's face, but
before he could speak she was gone.
The audience were soon thronging in. By half-past eight the performers
were all in the back parlor, and there was a brilliant army of actors
and actresses in varied and fanciful costume, many coming to the house
dressed for their parts. There were gods and goddesses, shepherds and
shepherdesses, angels, crusaders, who would take leave of languishing
ladies, living statuary, and tableaux of all sorts. Dennis was much
shocked at the manner in which ladies exposed themselves in the name
of art and for the sake of effect. Christine seemed perfectly Greek
and pagan in this respect, yet there was that in her manner that forbade
a wanton glance. But, as he observed the carriage of the men around
him, he was more than satisfied that no plea of art could justify the
"style," and felt assured that every pure-minded woman would take the
same view if she realized the truth. Under the name of fashion and art
much is done in society that would be simply monstrous on ordinary
occasions.
The music, as far as possible, was in character with the scenes. The
entertainment went forward with great applause. Every one was radiant;
and the subtile, exhilarating spirit of assured success glowed in every
eye, and gave a richer tone and coloring to everything.
Christine appeared in several and varied characters, and Dennis had
eyes only for her. The others he glanced over critically as the artist
in charge, and then dismissed them from his thoughts; but on Christine
his eyes rested in a spell-bound admiration that both amused and pleased
her. She loved power of every kind, and when she read approval in the
trained and critical eye of Dennis Fleet she knew that all the audience
were applauding.
But Dennis had little time for musing, so great was the strain upon
him to prevent confusion. His voice excited great surprise and applause,
many inquiring vainly who he was. When he and Christine sung together
the audience were perfectly carried away, and stormed and applauded
without stint. Indeed, it seemed that they could not be satisfied. The
call was so urgent that several asked Christine to sing again, and she
did so alone. For ten minutes she held the audience perfectly entranced,
and no one more so than Dennis. Usually she was too cold in all that
she did, but now in her excitement she far surpassed herself, and he
acknowledged that he had never heard such music before.
The very soul of song seemed breathed into her, and every nook and
corner of the house appeared to vibrate with melody. Even the servants
in distant rooms said that it seemed that an angel was singing. After
she ceased, the audience sat spellbound for a moment, and then followed
prolonged thunders of applause, the portly brewer, Mr. Brown himself,
leading off again and again.
"Now let the tenor sing alone," he said, for, though a coarse man, he
was hearty and good-natured.
The audience emphatically echoed his wish, but Dennis as decidedly
shook his head.
Then came a cry, "Miss Ludolph and the tenor again"; and the audience
took it up with a clamor that would not be denied.
Christine looked inquiringly at Dennis, and he replied in a low tone,
"You command me this evening."
Again she thanked him with her eyes, and from a music stand near
chose a magnificent duet from Mendelssohn, in which he must sing several
difficult solos.
"Act your pleasure. I am familiar with it," he said, smiling at the
way she had circumvented him in his refusal to sing alone.
Christine sat down and played her own accompaniment, while Dennis stood
at her side. He determined to do his best and prove that though he
swept a store he could also do something else. Many of the strains
were plaintive, and his deep and unconscious feeling for his fair
companion in song gave to his voice a depth, and at times a pathos,
that both thrilled and _touched_ the heart, and there were not a few wet
eyes in the audience. Unconsciously to himself and all around, he was
singing his love; and even Christine, though much preoccupied with her
part, wondered at the effect upon herself, and recognized the deep
impression made upon the audience.
As the last notes died away the sliding-doors were closed.
Dennis had achieved a greater success than Christine, because, singing
from the heart, he had touched the heart. His applause could be read
in moist eyes and expressive faces rather than in noisy hands. She saw
and understood the result. A sad, disappointed look came into her face,
and she said in a low, plaintive tone, as if it were wrung from her:
"There must be something wrong about me. I fear I shall never reach
true art. I can only win admiration, never touch the heart."
Dennis was about to speak eagerly, when they were overwhelmed by the
rush and confusion attendant on the breaking up of the entertainment.
Part of the older guests at once left for their homes, and the rest
stayed for supper. The parlors were to be cleared as soon as possible
for dancing. Christine was joined by her father, who had sat in the
audience, scarcely believing his eyes, much less his ears. Was that
the young man who was blacking old Schwartz's boots the other day?
His daughter was overwhelmed with compliments, but she took them very
coolly and quietly, for her heart was full of bitterness. That which
her ambitious spirit most desired she could not reach, and to the
degree that she loved art was her disappointment keen. She almost
envied poor Dennis, but she knew not the secret of his success; nor
did he, either, in truth. His old manner returned, and he busied himself
in rapidly packing up everything that he had brought. Mr. Ludolph, who
had received a brief explanation from Christine, came and said, kindly,
"Why, Fleet, you have blossomed out strongly to-day."
"Indeed, sir, I think I have never had a more rigorous pruning," was
the reply.
When the story had been told Mr. Ludolph in full, he understood the
remark. Christine was waiting for the crowd to disperse somewhat, in
order to speak to Dennis also, for her sense of justice and her genuine
admiration impelled her to warm and sincere acknowledgment. But at
that moment Mr. Mellen came in, exclaiming, "Miss Ludolph, they are
all waiting for you to lead the dance, for to you is given this honor
by acclamation, and I plead your promise to be my partner"; and he
carried her off, she meaning to return as soon as possible, and
supposing Dennis would remain.
A moment after, light, airy music was heard in the front parlor,
followed by the rhythmical cadence of light feet and the rustle of
silks like a breeze through a forest.
For some reason as she went away Dennis's heart sank within him.
Reaction followed the strong excitements of the day, and a strange
sense of weariness and despondency crept over him. The gay music in
the other room seemed plaintive and far away, and the tripping feet
sounded like the patter of rain on autumn leaves. The very lights
appeared to burn dimmer, and the color to fade out of his life.
Mechanically he packed up the few remaining articles, to be called for
in the morning, and then leaned heavily against a pillar, intending
to rest a moment before going out into the night alone.
Some one pushed back the sliding-door a little and passed into the
room. Through the opening he caught a glimpse of the gay scene
within. Suddenly Christine appeared floating lightly through the waltz
in her gauzy drapery, as if in a white, misty cloud. Through the narrow
opening she seemed a radiant, living portrait. But her partner whirled her
out of the line of vision. Thus in the mazes of the dance she kept
appearing and disappearing, flashing in sight one moment, leaving a blank
in the crowded room the next.
"So it will ever be, I suppose," he said to himself, bitterly; "chance
and stolen glimpses my only privilege."
Again she appeared, smiling archly on the man whose arm clasped her
waist.
A frown black as night gathered on Dennis's brow; then a sudden pallor
overspread his face to his very lips. The revelation had come! Then
for the first time he knew--knew it as if written in letters of fire
before him--that he loved Christine Ludolph.
At first the knowledge stunned and bewildered him, and his mind was
a confused blur; then as she appeared again, smiling upon and in the
embrace of another man, a sharp sword seemed to pierce his heart.
Dennis was no faint shadow of a man who had frittered away in numberless
flirtations what little heart he originally had. He belonged to the
male species, with something of the pristine vigor of the first man,
who said of the one woman of all the world, "This is now bone of my
bones, and flesh of my flesh"; and one whom he had first seen but a
few short months since now seemed to belong to him by the highest and
divinest right. But could he ever claim his own?
In his morbid, wearied state, there seemed a "great gulf fixed" between
them. For a moment he fairly felt faint and sick, as if he had received
a wound. He was startled by hearing Miss Winthrop say at his side:
"Mr. Fleet, you will not leave yet. I have many friends wishing an
introduction to you. What is the matter? You look as if you were ill."
At her voice he flushed painfully. He was so vividly conscious of his
love himself that he felt that every one else must be able to see it,
and darkness and solitude now seemed a refuge. Recovering himself by
a great effort he said, "Pardon me, I do--I am not well--nothing is
the matter--a little rest and I shall be myself again."
"No wonder. You have been taxed every way beyond mortal endurance, and
I think that it is a shame the way you have been treated. Pray do not
judge Chicago society altogether by what you have seen here. Let me
get you some refreshment, and then I will acquaint you with some people
who can recognize a gentleman when they meet him."
"No, Miss Winthrop," said Dennis, courteously but firmly; "you are not
in your own home, and by staying I should not be accepting your
hospitality. I appreciate your kindness deeply, and thank your friends
who have expressed a willingness to make my acquaintance. It would not
be right to stay longer in this house than is necessary. I do not feel
resentful. I have no room in my memory for Miss Brown and her actions,
but at the same time self-respect requires that I go at once;" and he
took his hat.
"I am not surprised that you feel as you do. But give me the pleasure
of welcoming you at my own home as soon as possible," she said, and
gave her hand to him in parting.
Dennis took it respectfully and bowed low, saying, "I shall not
willingly deny myself so great a pleasure." and was gone.
Christine came in a few moments later, and found only servants clearing
the room for dancing.
"Where is Mr. Fleet?" she asked.
"Gone, mum."
"Yes," said Miss Winthrop, coming in at the same time; "he has gone
now in very truth; and I don't think the power exists that could lead
him to darken these doors again. I doubt if I ever come myself. I never
saw a clearer instance of--of--well--_shoddy_."
"It seems to me that you Christians are as proud as any of us."
"Isn't there a difference between pride and self-respect? I am satisfied
that if Miss Brown were in trouble, or poor, Mr. Fleet would be the
first to help her. Oh, Christine, we have treated him shamefully!"
"You seem to take a wonderful interest in this unknown knight in rusty
armor." (Dennis's dress was decidedly threadbare.)
"I do," said the impulsive girl, frankly, "because he is wonderfully
interesting. What man of all the large audience present to-night could
have acted the part he did? I am satisfied that that man is by birth
and education a gentleman. Are you ready, with your aristocratic
notions, to recognize chiefly Miss Brown's title to position? What
could her coat-of-arms be but the dollar symbol and the beer-barrel?"
"Come, remember she is our hostess."
"You are right; I should not speak so here; but my indignation gets
the better of me."
"Would you invite him to your house?"
"Certainly. I have asked him; and what is more, he has promised to
come. Supposing that he is poor, are not many of your noblemen as poor
as poverty? My parlors shall be haunted only by men of ability and
character."
"You are not going to shut out this little heathen," said Christine,
putting her arm about her friend.
"Never!" said Miss Winthrop, returning the embrace with double warmth.
Then she added, sadly: "You are not an unbeliever from conviction and
knowledge, Christine, but from training and association. While I admire
and honor your father as a splendid and gifted man, I regret his and
your scepticism more deeply than you can ever know."
"Well, Susie," said Christine, with a smile, "if they shut out such
as you from your Paradise, I do not wish to go there."
"If, with my clear knowledge of the conditions of entrance, I _shut
myself out_, I shall have no right to complain," said Miss Winthrop,
sadly.
But the absence of two such belles could not long remain unnoted; and,
having been discovered, they were pounced upon by half a dozen young
gentlemen, clamorous for the honor of their hands in the "German."
In spite of herself, Christine was vexed and annoyed. Dennis had seemed,
in his obscurity, a nice little bit of personal property, that she
could use and order about as she pleased. He had been so subservient
and eager to do her will, that she had never thought of him otherwise
than as her "humble servant." But now her own hand had suddenly given
him the role of a fine gentleman. Christine was too logical to think
of continuing to order about a man who could sing Mendelssohn's music
as Dennis had done.
She congratulated herself that the arrangement of the store was nearly
completed, and that only one show-room was unfinished.
"I suppose he will be very dignified when we meet again," she thought
to herself. "I should not be at all surprised if my impulsive little
friend Susie loses her heart to him. Well, I suppose she can to any
one she chooses. As for me, rich or poor, stupid or gifted, the men
of this land are all alike;" and with a half-sigh she plunged resolutely
into the gayeties of the evening, as if to escape from herself.