"Some people think so."
"Is he trustworthy?"
"Far from it. He takes the cases nobody else will take. He may treat
Mrs. Forrester honestly. But if he does, it will not be from principle."
"This is very distressing news. Go on with your work, my boy. I must
think this over." Mr. Ogden rose and walked about the room, his hands
behind him. Niel turned to an unfinished letter on his desk, in order to
leave his visitor the more free.
Mr. Ogden's position, he understood, was a difficult one. He had been
devoted to Mrs. Forrester, and before Constance had made up her mind to
marry Frank Ellinger, before the mother and daughter began to angle for
him, Mr. Ogden had come to the Forresters' more frequently than any of
their Denver friends. He hadn't been back, Niel believed, since that
Christmas party when he and his family were there with Ellinger. Very
soon afterward he must have seen what his women-folk were up to; and
whether he approved or disapproved, he must have decided that there was
nothing for him to do but to keep out. It hadn't been the Forresters'
reversal of fortune that had kept him away. One could see that he was
deeply troubled, that he had her heavily on his mind.
Niel had finished his letter and was beginning another, when Mr. Ogden
stopped beside his desk, where he stood twisting his imperial tighter
and tighter. "You say this young lawyer is unprincipled? Sometimes
rascals have a soft spot, a sentiment, where women are concerned."
Niel stared. He immediately thought of Ivy's dimples.
"A soft spot? A sentiment? Mr. Ogden, why not go to his office? A glance
would convince you."
"Oh, that's not necessary! I understand." He looked out of the window,
from which he could just see the tree-tops of the Forrester grove, and
murmured, "Poor lady! So misguided. She ought to have advice from some
of Daniel's friends." He took out his watch and consulted it, turning
something over in his mind. His train was due in an hour, he said.
Nothing could be done at present. In a few moments he left the office.
Afterward, Niel felt sure that when Mr. Ogden stood there uncertainly,
watch in hand, he was considering an interview with Mrs. Forrester. He
had wanted to go to her, and had given it up. Was he afraid of his
women-folk? Or was it another kind of cowardice, the fear of losing a
pleasant memory, of finding her changed and marred, a dread of something
that would throw a disenchanting light upon the past? Niel had heard his
uncle say that Mr. Ogden admired pretty women, though he had married a
homely one, and that in his deep, non-committal way he was very gallant.
Perhaps, with a little encouragement, he would have gone to see Mrs.
Forrester, and he might have helped her. The fact that he had done
nothing to bring this about, made Niel realize how much his own feeling
toward that lady had changed.
It was Mrs. Forrester herself who had changed. Since her husband's death
she seemed to have become another woman. For years Niel and his uncle,
the Dalzells and all her friends, had thought of the Captain as a drag
upon his wife; a care that drained her and dimmed her and kept her from
being all that she might be. But without him, she was like a ship
without ballast, driven hither and thither by every wind. She was
flighty and perverse. She seemed to have lost her faculty of
discrimination; her power of easily and graciously keeping everyone in
his proper place.
Ivy Peters had been in Wyoming at the time of Captain Forrester's
illness and death,--called away by a telegram which announced that oil
had been discovered near his land-holdings. He returned soon after the
Captain's funeral, however, and was seen about the Forrester place more
than ever. As there was nothing to be done on his fields in the winter,
he had amused himself by pulling down the old barn after office hours.
One was likely to come upon him, smoking his cigar on the front porch as
if he owned the place. He often spent the evening there, playing cards
with Mrs. Forrester or talking about his business projects. He had not
made his fortune yet, but he was on the way to it. Occasionally he took
a friend or two, some of the town boys, over to dine at Mrs.
Forrester's. The boys' mothers and sweethearts were greatly scandalized.
"Now she's after the young ones," said Ed Elliott's mother. "She's
getting childish."
At last Niel had a plain talk with Mrs. Forrester. He told her that
people were gossiping about Ivy's being there so much. He had heard
comments even on the street.
"But I can't bother about their talk. They have always talked about me,
always will. Mr. Peters is my lawyer and my tenant; I have to see him,
and I'm certainly not going to his office. I can't sit in the house
alone every evening and knit. If you came to see me any oftener than you
do, that would make talk. You are still younger than Ivy,--and
better-looking! Did that never occur to you?"
"I wish you wouldn't talk to me like that," he said coldly. "Mrs.
Forrester, why don't you go away? to California, to people of your own
kind. You know this town is no place for you."
"I mean to, just as soon as I can sell this place. It's all I have, and
if I leave it to tenants it will run down, and I can't sell it to
advantage. That's why Ivy is here so much, he's trying to make the place
presentable; pulling down the old barn that had become an eyesore,
putting new boards in the porch floor where the old ones had rotted.
Next summer, I am going to paint the house. Unless I keep the place up,
I can never get my price for it." She talked nervously, with exaggerated
earnestness, as if she were trying to persuade herself.
"And what are you asking for it now, Mrs. Forrester?"
"Twenty thousand dollars."
"You'll never get it. At least, not until times have greatly changed."
"That's what your uncle said. He wouldn't attempt to sell it for more
than twelve. That's why I had to put it into other hands. Times have
changed, but he doesn't realize it. Mr. Forrester himself told me it
would be worth that. Ivy says he can get me twenty thousand, or if not,
he will take it off my hands as soon as his investments begin to bring
in returns."
"And in the meantime, you are simply wasting your life here."
"Not altogether." She looked at him with pleading plausibility. "I am
getting rested after a long strain. And while I wait, I'm finding new
friends among the young men,--those your age, and a little younger. I've
wanted for a long while to do something for the boys in this town, but
my hands were full. I hate to see them growing up like savages, when all
they need is a civilized house to come to, and a woman to give them a
few hints. They've never had a chance. You wouldn't be the boy you are
if you'd never gone to Boston,--and you've always had older friends
who'd seen better days. Suppose you had grown up like Ed Elliot and Joe
Simpson?"
"I flatter myself I wouldn't be exactly like them, if I had! However,
there is no use discussing it, if you've thought it over and made up
your mind. I spoke of it because I thought you mightn't realize how it
strikes the townspeople."
"I know!" She tossed her head. Her eyes glittered, but there was no
mirth in them,--it was more like hysterical defiance. "I know; they call
me the Merry Widow. I rather like it!"
Niel left the house without further argument, and though that was three
weeks ago, he had not been back since. Mrs. Forrester had called to see
his uncle in the meantime. The Judge was as courtly as ever in his
manner toward her, but he was deeply hurt by her defection, and his
cherishing care for her would never be revived. He had attended to all
Captain Forrester's business for twenty years, and since the failure of
the Denver bank had never deducted a penny for fees from the money
entrusted to him. Mrs. Forrester had treated him very badly. She had
given him no warning. One day Ivy Peters had come into the office with a
written order from her, requesting that an accounting, and all funds and
securities, be turned over to him. Since then she had never spoken of
the matter to the Judge,--or to Niel, save in that conversation about
the sale of the property.