LIGHT AND DARKNESS
Not unnaturally Dolores failed to realize at once the utter ruin that
Blake had brought upon himself by overthrowing the pillars of his
temple. She was too intent upon her own tragedy. With Blake out of the
way, Lord James would of course have no difficulty in winning
Genevieve. There was now no hope for her.
She flung herself down in a chair, with a childlike wail. "Why did he
do it? Oh! why did he do it? Oh, Jimmy! you'll never look at me now! If
only I could _hurt_ mamma!"
She bent over, weeping with bitter grief and anger.
She was still sobbing and crying when, sometime later, Lord James
slipped hastily in from the cardroom. He closed the door swiftly and
hurried toward the table, his eyes widening with his attempt to see
clearly in the half light of the library.
"Tom, old man!" he called eagerly. "I'm now free to see you home. We'll
slip out the side entrance--" He stopped short, perceiving that the big
chair was empty, and that the figure in the chair across was not a
man's.
"Er--beg pardon!" he stammered. "I--er--expected to find my friend
here. Believe me, I would not have intruded--"
"So you d--don't consider me a friend!" retorted Dolores, vainly
striving to hide her grief under a scornful tone.
"Miss Gantry!" he exclaimed. "Is it you?"
"It's not Vievie, that's certain. The sooner you run along and mind
your business, the better."
"Miss Dolores, I--I really can't see why you hold such a dislike to me.
I'll go immediately. I hadn't the remotest idea of intruding. You'll
believe that? Only, y'know, I left Tom--Mr. Blake--in here. I came to
go home with him. He was quite knocked-up. He should not have come
to-night."
"You knew it!--you knew it, and left him in here alone!"
"Why, what do you mean, Miss Dolores? You alarm me! I left him
asleep--fancied he'd not be disturbed in here--that an hour or so of
sleep would freshen him up for the drive home."
"So you left him--alone--for mamma and that despicable creature to do
their worst!"
"Miss Dolores, I--I beg your pardon, but I quite fail to take you. If
anything has happened to Tom--"
"Regrets! What's the good of them, when it's too late?"
"Too late? Surely you cannot mean that he--?"
"Yes, the worst, the very worst,--and that miserable, detestable
creature knew it when he offered him the wine. I believe he brought it
in deliberately to tempt him."
"Wine? He drank! How long ago? Where is he now? I must try to check
him."
"If only you could! But it's too late. He went off with Laffie."
"Not too late! The craving has been checked once--I've seen it done."
"But this time it's not the craving."
"How's that?"
"It's because he was driven desperate. He took it
deliberately--intentionally."
"Impossible! Tom would never--"
"He would! He did! I saw him. But don't you blame him. She's the one.
How could he know better, in his condition?--utterly tired out! She
drove him to it, I tell you."
"She--Genevieve? I assure you--"
"No, no! mamma, of course! She told him a pack of lies--took away all
his hope. She made him think that Vievie had never really loved him."
"Impossible!--unless your mother herself believes it."
"Oh, she believes it--or thinks she does. She's so anxious--so
anxious!" The girl sprang up and stamped her foot. "Oh! I wish she and
her meddling were in Hades!"
"My dear Miss Dolores!" protested Lord James, tugging nervously at his
mustache.
She whirled upon him in hysterical fury. "Don't you call me that! Don't
you dare call me that! I won't have it! I won't! I'm not your dear! I
tell you--"
His look of blank astonishment checked her in the midst.
"I--I--I didn't mean--" she gasped. "Oh! what must you think of me!"
She turned from him, her face scarlet with shame. But in the same
instant she remembered Blake, and forgot herself in the disaster to him.
"How selfish of me, when he--Poor Mr. Blake! What can be done? We must
do something--at once!"
"If anything can be done!" said Lord James in a hopeless tone. "You say
he took it deliberately?"
"Yes. Can't you see? Mamma had stuffed him with a lot of rot about
gratitude--about Vievie sacrificing herself to him on account of
gratitude. It's easy enough to guess mamma's little game. Oh! it's
simply terrible! Of course he believed it, and of course he planned at
once to go away--that's the kind of man he is! He planned to go
away--run off--so that Vievie couldn't sacrifice herself."
"My word!"
"And just then Laffie Ashton came back with the wine. I believe he did
it a-purpose--that he _wanted_ to get Mr. Blake intoxicated!"
"The unmitigated cad! Yet why should he? It seems impossible that any
man--"
"How should I know? He's vicious enough to do _anything_. But what does
that matter? It's Mr. Blake. Can't you see why he took it? He was
getting himself out of the way. I didn't understand then what he
said--about the bad place being nearer than Alaska--but now I do. What
he was determined to do was to get himself out of Vievie's way for
good. The quickest that he could do it was to start drinking--go on a
spree."
"Gad!"
"And now you stand here like a dummy, when there's a way to save him."
"Yes, yes! I'll go after him!" He started alertly toward the door.
She sprang before him, "No! What good would that do? You know he's set
on saving Vievie. He'll not listen to you."
"Gad! That's true. He's hard enough to handle, at best. With this
added--Yet I cannot but make the effort. I'll phone Mr. Griffith."
"Griffith? What's the use of wasting time? There's just one person who
can save him, and you know it."
"No, unless Griffith--"
"Are you absolutely stupid? Can't you see? It's Vievie alone who--"
"Genevieve!"
"Now's the time for her to do something. She must prove her love. That
alone can stop him."
"If she does love him."
"Can you doubt it?"
"She has doubted it."
"She may think she does. But it's all due to mamma's knocking and
suggesting. Vievie loves him as much as he loves her. Needn't tell me!
I know all about it. She made him fail--the time you took him up to
Michamac. This time it's all mamma's fault. Vievie has got to save him!"
"Most assuredly it is hopeless unless she--"
"That's no reason for you to stand here gawking! You've got to go and
tell her. She wouldn't listen to me; but you're a man and his friend.
You can make her see the injustice of it all. She's to blame as much as
mamma. This never would have happened if it hadn't been for her
shillyshallying."
Lord James paused before replying, his clear gray eyes dark with doubt
and indecision.
"My word!" he murmured. "Could I but feel certain--This second failure,
in so short a time! There is _her_ future to be considered, as well."
"Her future as Countess of Avondale!" scoffed the girl.
"No, I assure you, no!" he insisted. "Can you believe I could be so
low?--and at such a time as this! It was of the consequences to her as
well as to him--He has failed again. Can he ever win out, even should
he have her aid?"
"You claim to be his friend!"
"For his sake, no less than hers--Consider what it would mean to a man
of his nature, unable to check himself in his downward course, yet
conscious that it was wrecking her happiness, possibly her life."
"It won't happen, not if she really loves him. You don't half know him.
He could do anything--anything!--if she went to him and asked him to do
it for her sake."
"Could I but be sure of that!"
"_Pah!_ You pretend to be his friend. How long would you stand here
fiddling and fussing, if you didn't want her yourself?"
"That--it is too much!" he said, his face pale and very quiet. "I had
ventured to hope that I might overcome your dislike. Now I see that it
is as well that you have refused to regard me other than as you have."
"Why, what do you mean? I--I don't understand."
"You have always been candid. Permit me to be the same. The truth is
that I had begun to wish Tom success--not alone because of my
friendship for him. But now I realize that his fight is hopeless. I
shall do my utmost to make your cousin happy."
Dolores stared at him with dilating eyes. "Jimmy!" she whispered. "It
can't be you mean that you--that you--?"
"Yes," he answered. "Pardon me for saying anything about it. I shall
not bother you again."
"Oh, thank you!" she scoffed. "So now you're going to stay quiet and
wait for Vievie to fling herself into your arms when she hears about
your rival."
The young Englishman flushed and as suddenly became white, yet his
voice was as steady as it was low. "I shall do whatever she wishes, if
she finds that she does not love him."
"And that's all?" she jeered. "You'll calmly keep out of it while he
commits hara-kiri, and then you'll step into his shoes."
"No. I shall go to her at once and ask her to save my friend--if she
loves him."
"You will?"
"Yes."
"You will!" cried the girl, her cheeks flushing and her black eyes
sparkling with delight--"You will! Oh, Jimmy!"
Even as the words left her lips, she became conscious of what she had
done, and her flush brightened into a vivid scarlet blush. She turned
and fled from him, panic-stricken.
He stood dazed, unable at first to believe what her tone and look had
betrayed to him. When, after some moments, his doubt gave way to
certainty, his face lighted with what might be termed joyous
exasperation.
"My word!" he murmured. "The little witch! I'll pay her out jolly well
for it all!"
But his blissfully exultant vexation was no more than a flash that
deepened the gloom with which he recalled the disaster to his friend.
"Gad!" he reproached himself. "What am I thinking of--with her and
Tom--"
He turned quickly to the door of the cardroom.