CHAPTER XXII

The two men were in striking contrast. Glamorgan, massive, shrewd-eyed,

of big affairs and world interests and Peter Courtlandt patrician,

dreamy-eyed, who dwelt largely in the realm of books and art, were

smoking on the terrace of the Manor. They could look down the

box-bordered paths of the garden to where stone steps led to a small

landing on the shore of the river. A tender swung at its moorings.

Motor-boats and steam-boats plied busily back and forth on the water

which rippled into scales of gold. From a man-o'-war anchored

down-stream came the sound of a ship's band. The sun was setting with

lavish prodigality of color, spreading great swaths of crimson and gold

and violet above the hills. One steady brilliant star shone in the west.

From the garden drifted the scent of heliotrope. The light breeze

stirred the awning over the terrace, gently lifted the soft rings of

white hair on Peter Courtlandt's head, impertinently flicked the sheets

of the letter Glamorgan held.

Courtlandt withdrew his eyes from the river and looked at his guest.

The large man was smiling broadly, at his thoughts, doubtless, as his

eyes were fixed unseeingly on the star. His host suddenly remembered

that he had not seen the oil-king smile like that since Jerry and Steve

had left the Manor; he had appeared like a man spiritually burdened.

Could his furious indignation because his daughter had gone West with

her husband have accounted for his gravity? Courtlandt tossed the

remains of his cigar over the terrace wall and addressed his companion.

"You said that you had a letter to read to me," he suggested.

Glamorgan's eyes flashed to his--was there a hint of tears in them?--the

smile on his lips spread and spread until his host was reminded of the

moon in all the glory of its fullness. He laughed in sympathy. "It must

be amusing, if one judges by your expression." The oil-king indulged in

a throaty chuckle; it sounded like the delight of a boy in some

satisfactorily accomplished bit of mischief.

"It isn't the letter which is so amusing, though I'll hand it to Peg

when it comes to expression that has punch, it is what I can read

between the lines. Listen to what she writes and you'll understand." He

settled huge horn-rimmed eye-glasses in place and began to read from the

letter in his hand.

"DEAR DAD:

"By this time you must have received my letter about the near

hold-up, _poor_ Mr. Denbigh, Beechy, Tommy (Benson the Bluffer

the outfit call him now) and your she's-a-hero daughter. I

penned that throbbing epistle on the morning after our return

from Slippy Bend when my mind was a red hot molten mass of

_thrills_. Well, to quote Scripture (don't give me the credit

of this, Tommy Benson reeled it off when I expressed amazement

at what was happening and I copied it from the Bible), 'There

be three things which are too wonderful for me, yea, four which

I know not: The way of an eagle in the air; the way of a

serpent upon a rock; the way of a ship in the midst of the sea;

and the way of a man with a maid.' It is that last phrase which

has to do with the situation here. When I first came Steve had

_about_ as much expression in his face when he looked at Jerry

as has that granite civil war veteran in the park at Oil City.

Jerry was as bad. They were the nearest to cold-storage

newly-weds that I had ever seen. Now--ye gods!--when I look up

and see Steve's eyes on Jerry my heart _stampedes_. I feel as

though I had made the unpardonable break of opening a closed

door without knocking. Jerry behaves a little better. She keeps

her eyes to heel but her _voice_----

"'The devil hath not in all his quiver's choice an arrow for

the heart like a sweet voice.' Tommy Benson again. He is a more

liberal education than English 27 at College. I asked him if the

lines were Shakespeare or the Bible and he said that a gentleman

named Byron wrote them but that I was _not_ to cultivate his

acquaintance indiscriminately. I have sent east for _all_ of Mr.

Byron's poems. But I digress.

"To return to Steve and Jerry. They start on a camping trip

to-morrow, up into the wilderness to inspect some silly old

silver mine. Steve has sent Marcelle O'Neil ahead with

packhorses, guns, provisions, and rods. Thank heaven they

didn't ask _me_ to go. I'm to stay at the Double O with Tommy

Benson's mother, who arrived yesterday. She's a stylish-stout

of about fifty with wonderful skin and teeth, eyes that make

you feel you'd like to _drown_ in them they are so like

clear-blue pools; hair like dull gold and a smile--well, I

walked _straight_ into her arms when she turned it on me.

"I wrote you that Jerry seemed terribly short of money. You

_must_ do something about it. Her Tiffany flame has found an

Alexandrite that she wants. When I told her the price, a

_miserable_ little two thousand dollars, you would have thought

I'd mentioned the amount of the Allied war debt. Why don't you

send her the ring?

"From my limited observation (there's been something doing

every minute since I set foot on the Double O), I should say

that ranching was a great life when the coyotes didn't steal

your chickens, when the Shorthorns didn't break away, or when a

disgruntled fragment of your outfit didn't shoot up the

neighborhood. Jerry says that she and Steve will spend their

winters at the Manor after they have been here a year,

something to do with Uncle Nick's will, _you_ probably know

about it. Steve will take Tommy Benson into partnership and he

will be manager-in-chief. It's a _great_ chance for Tommy. He

is the poor-man-with-a-future type. He's _super_-sensitive

about his lack of money, though. Bruce Greyson brought a

perfectly _stunning_ man to call the other day, heir to a

fortune. Of course I had to be nice to him. Ye gods! You should

have seen Tommy while he was here. After the plutocrat had

departed I asked him why he had looked as though he could have

crunched mountain lion in the raw. He just _glowered_ and

quoted:

"'O what a world of vile, ill favoured faults

Looks handsome in three thousand pounds a year.'

"From my window I can see Sandy's flivver in the distance; that

means that I must wind up this letter--pronto. That carrier is

the _funniest_ sight. He wears a tall white hat and a linen

duster and looks for all the world like the Mad Hatter in

'Alice.' I almost expect to hear him snap when he sees me

coming, 'Your hair needs cutting,' the way the Hatter does in

the story. _Heaps_ of love,

"PEG.

"P.S. Praise be! Careful Cosmetics has departed. That's what I

call the Denbigh woman."

Glamorgan removed his glasses and threw back his head with a chuckling

laugh. Courtlandt laughed with him.

"Peggy certainly wields a facile pen. I--I am glad of what she writes

about Steve and Jerry. I confess that I feared----"

"I want to talk to you about that, Courtlandt," interrupted Glamorgan

eagerly. "It has taken all my strength of will and then some, not to

take you into my confidence but--but I promised your brother-in-law

that----"

"Nicholas Fairfax!"

"I don't wonder you are astonished. You see, from the moment I saw him I

fell for him. I'd known a lot of men like him. Chestnut burrs outside

but sound and sweet in their hearts. He must have felt that I understood

him for he hadn't been at the Manor long before he confided his doubts

and hopes to me. Old Nick was keener than you or I. He hadn't been here

twenty-four hours before he had sized up the situation between Jerry and

Steve. He realized that they were heading straight for the matrimonial

reefs where so many of their friends had come to grief. I guess he

realized also that I was a little more anxious for that marriage to turn

out a success than even he was. The Lord only knows the burden of guilt

I would have carried the rest of my life if it hadn't."

"You wouldn't have been the only one."

"I know that, Courtlandt. Nick realized that he hadn't long to live. He

felt sure of Jerry's loyalty, that all that was needed to right matters

between the two was to give Steve money and make the girl dependent on

him. He knew the boy well enough to know that his pride would stand

between them as long as Jerry was spending my money. That was where I

came in. He had me cast for the stern parent act. I was to oppose

Jerry's going to the ranch. Opposition, he figured, would steel her

determination to go with her husband, if she was tempted to waver. I

knew my girl better. I knew that she would keep the covenant but I

consented to please Old Nick. I almost caved in the day she went away,

when I saw her watch the gate wistfully until the train started, but I

kept out of sight."

"Who would have believed to have seen Nick in those last days that he

was planning so shrewdly."

"That wasn't all he planned. He had the dickens of a time with Greyson.

He wanted him to invite Mrs. Denbigh to the X Y Z for the summer as a

sort of acid test for Steve."

"What a diabolical idea."

"I'm not so sure of that. His argument was that if the woman had the

slightest lure for Steve----"

"But she hadn't," Courtlandt denied sharply.

"I couldn't see how she could have, but then vamps aren't in my line.

Nick was possessed by the idea. Greyson kicked like a steer against it

but finally gave in. You can't tell. Fairfax may have had other reasons

up his sleeve. Denbigh was at the Bear Creek ranch. He might have

thought, have hoped, that he and Felice would come together again. In

spite of his ill-health and absorption in his ranch, your brother-in-law

was a profound thinker on social and economic questions. I spent hours

arguing with him. He contended that the great weakness of the American

people lay in their lack of stability, that they could be swept along on

a wave of enthusiasm but that when it came to the steady tide of

determination they wouldn't even tread water; that lack of stability was

at the root of the divorce habit, which if it wasn't checked would

insidiously undermine the character of the nation."

"He was right, but," with a profound sigh of relief, "it looks as though

Jerry and Steve had escaped the reefs, doesn't it?"

"I'll say it does," with a reminiscent chuckle. "Now you know why I

gloated over that letter of Peg's. The child didn't realize how she was

easing my mind. Do you know, I like what she writes about that Benson

boy. Next to a man with family background I have a deep and abiding

respect for a man who has the best in literature at his tongue's end.

He's a rare bird these days."

"Then you wouldn't object if Peg and Tommy--he hasn't the kind of family

you want behind him."

"I don't care who Peggy marries if he is clean and upstanding, with

self-respect and love for my girl. I'm through meddling, though I'm not

sorry for what I did with Jerry. She stood nine chances out of ten of

marrying a fortune-hunter; Steve wasn't that; he had to be forcibly fed

with money. In spite of that fact I haven't drawn an easy breath since

Nick told me his suspicions, until now." He glanced at the letter. "I

think I'll send that Alexandrite as a sort of peace offering."

"You're too late. Steve wired to me to have it sent."

"He did! Then you knew all I have been telling you?"

"No. I only put two and two together when I got Steve's message."

Glamorgan rose, shook himself like a bear and extended one hand to his

host. His voice was curiously rough as he laid the other on his shoulder

and confided awkwardly:

"Good-night! I--I hope they'll name the first son Peter, Courtlandt."

Courtlandt put his free hand on the big man's shoulder. His laugh was

unsteady but his voice was vibrant with feeling as he countered:

"And I--I hope they'll name the second one--Dan. Good-night." They stood

shaking hands furiously, laughing boyishly, and patting one another's

shoulders as the lights flashed up on the river and night rang down the

curtain of dusk.

BOOKS BY EMILIE LORING

THE TRAIL OF CONFLICT

HERE COMES THE SUN!

A CERTAIN CROSSROAD

THE SOLITARY HORSEMAN

GAY COURAGE

SWIFT WATCH

LIGHTED WINDOWS

FAIR TOMORROW

UNCHARTED SEAS

HILLTOPS CLEAR

WE RIDE THE GALE!

WITH BANNERS

IT'S A GREAT WORLD

GIVE ME ONE SUMMER

AS LONG AS I LIVE

TODAY IS YOURS

HIGH OF HEART

ACROSS THE YEARS

THERE IS ALWAYS LOVE

WHERE BEAUTY DWELLS

STARS IN YOUR EYES

RAINBOW AT DUSK

WHEN HEARTS ARE LIGHT AGAIN

KEEPERS OF THE FAITH

BEYOND THE SOUND OF GUNS

BRIGHT SKIES

BECKONING TRAILS

I HEAR ADVENTURE CALLING

LOVE CAME LAUGHING BY

TO LOVE AND TO HONOR

FOR ALL YOUR LIFE

MY DEAREST LOVE

I TAKE THIS MAN

THE SHADOW OF SUSPICION

WHAT THEN IS LOVE

LOOK TO THE STARS

BEHIND THE CLOUD

WITH THIS RING

HOW CAN THE HEART FORGET

THROW WIDE THE DOOR

FOLLOW YOUR HEART

The Trail of Conflict · 第 22 / 22 章