While little Tony had been growing, waxing strong and sturdy: while Juliet
had been tending and training him, learning, as every mother does, more
than she could impart: Anthony, in his place, had not stood still. The
strength and determination he had from the first hour put into his daily
work had begun to tell. His position in a great mercantile establishment
had steadily advanced as he had made himself more and more indispensable
to its heads.
Cathcart, the successful architect, began to talk about a new home for the
man into whose hands Henderson and Henderson were putting large interests
to manage for them, and whose salary, he asserted, must now justify,
indeed call for, life under more ideal surroundings than the little home
in the unfashionable suburb which poverty had at first made necessary.
"Let me draw some plans for you," urged Cathcart, one evening in June,
when he had run out to see his friend. Juliet was by chance away, and
Cathcart took advantage of this to call Anthony's attention, in a politely
frank fashion, to the shortcomings of his present residence. "It's all
right in its way," he said, standing upon a corner of the lawn with
Anthony, and surveying the house critically. "Mrs. Robeson certainly
deserves full credit for the admirable way in which she restored the old
house and added just the changes in keeping with its possibilities. I've
always said it couldn't have been better done, with the means you've told
me you were able to put at her disposal. But the place is too small for
you now."
"I don't think we feel it so," said Anthony tentatively, strolling beside
Cathcart along the edge of the lawn, his hands in his pockets, lifting
friendly eyes at the little house. "Since we put in the bathroom--that
small room off the upper hall, you know--and added the nursery and den,
we're very comfortable. The furnace keeps us warm as toast, and we're soon
to have the water system out here, so we won't have to depend upon our
present expedients. I'm fond of the place, and I'm confident Mrs. Robeson
is devoted to it."
"I can understand that," agreed Cathcart. "Of course, the spot where you
began life together will always have its charm for you both--in fact the
sentiment of the matter may blind you to the real inadequacies of the
place for a man in your position."
"My position isn't so stable that I want to build a marble palace on it
yet," said Anthony, a humorous twinkle in his eye. He enjoyed watching
another man manoeuvre for his favourable hearing of a scheme. It was an
art in which he was himself accomplished; it was one of the points of his
value to Henderson and Henderson.
"Everybody knows that you're in a fair way to become head man with the
Hendersons," said Cathcart, "and everybody also knows that you might as
well have struck a gold-mine. It's superb, the way you have come into the
confidence of those old conservatives."
"That's all well enough; but I don't see that it entails upon me the duty
of laying out all I've saved on a new house. I know what you fellows
are--when you begin to draw plans your love of the ideal runs away with
the other man's pocketbook."
"Not at all," declared Cathcart. "Particularly when he's a friend and you
understand just what he can afford to do."
"Why don't you talk about enlarging the old house? That's much more likely
to appeal to my desires."
The two had reached the back of the house and were close by the kitchen
windows. Cathcart reached up and took hold of a sill. With a strong hand
he wrenched and pounded about the window, until he succeeded in showing
that it was old and uncertain.
"That's why," he said, dusting his hand with his handkerchief. "The house
is old--fairly rotten in places. The minute you began to enlarge it in any
ambitious way you'd find it would be cheaper to tear it down and begin
again. But the site, Robeson--the site isn't desirable. The place is
respectable enough, but it has no future. The good building is all going
south, not north, of the city. You don't want to spend a lot of money
here--you couldn't sell out except at a loss."
"Your arguments are good, very good," admitted Anthony; "so good that I'd
like to put you on your mettle to draw me a set of plans for just the sort
of thing you think I ought to have--or Mrs. Robeson ought to have, for
she's the one to be considered. Anything will do for me. I'll let you do
this--on one condition."
"Name it."
"That you also do your level best to demonstrate to me what a clever man
and an artist of your proportions could make out of this house, provided
he really wanted to show the extent of his ability. Now, that's fair. If
you really care to convince me you won't fool with this proposition,
you'll make a study of the one problem as thoroughly as you do of the
other, and let me decide the case on its merits. If I thought you weren't
giving the old house a fair chance I should take up its cause out of pure
affection."
He smiled at Cathcart's discontented face with so brilliant a good humour
that the architect cleared up.
"By Jove, Robeson," he said, "I think I see what endears you to the
Hendersons. I wouldn't have said you could have induced me to try my hand
at the old house, but I'll be hanged if I don't follow your instructions
to the letter--and win out, too."
"Good," said Anthony. "And don't mention it to my wife. We'll keep it for
a surprise; and I promise you when the time comes I won't prejudice her in
any way."
Cathcart drew out a notebook and pencil and entered some memoranda on the
spot, while Anthony, coming up on the piazza of the dining-room, laid upon
the old Dutch house-door a hand which seemed to caress it. He was
wondering if by any possible magic Cathcart could create, in the rarest
abode in the world, a new door which he should ever care to enter as he
now cared to enter this.
* * * * *
"I think," said Juliet decidedly, "you're wrong about it."
"And I know," returned Anthony with emphasis, "that you are."
The two faced each other. They were walking through a short stretch of
woodland, which lay as yet untouched by the hand of suburban property
owners. It was a favourite ground for the diversions of the Robesons, when
they had not time to spend in getting farther away. They had been
strolling through it now, in the early June evening, discussing a matter
relative to the investment of a certain moderate sum of money which had
come into Anthony's hands. It developed that their ideas about it differed
radically.
"It's not safe to do as you propose," said Juliet.
"To do what you propose would be only one better than tying it up in an
old stocking--or putting it away in the coffee pot. It's essentially a
woman's plan--no man would do it the honour of considering it a moment."
Juliet flushed brilliantly. Even in Anthony's cheek the colour rose a
little. Their eyes met with a challenge.
"Very well," said Juliet proudly. "I'll offer no more woman's plans.
Invest the money as you like. Then, when you've lost it----"
Anthony's eyes flashed. "When I've lost it----" he began, and turned away
with a gesture of impatience. Then he stopped short. "That isn't like
you," he said.
Juliet stared at him an instant. Then she shut her lips together and
walked on in silence. Anthony shut his lips together also. It was not
their habit to indulge in sharp altercation. While both had decided ideas
about things, both were also much too well bred to be willing to allow
differences of opinion--which must arise as inevitably as two human beings
live under the same roof--to degenerate into the deplorable thing commonly
referred to as a quarrel.
When they had proceeded a few rods Juliet turned abruptly off from the
path and picked up from the ground a slender straight stick, evidently cut
and trimmed by some boy and then thrown aside. She looked about her and
after some search found another, of similar size, untrimmed. She held out
the latter to Anthony. He accepted it with a look of surprise. Then she
walked into the path in front of him, stood stiff and straight, her small
heels together, and made him the fencer's salute. "_On guard!_" she
cried.
His lips relaxing, Anthony grasped his stick and fell into position. A
moment more and two accomplished fencers were engaged in close combat.
Juliet happened to be wearing a trim linen skirt of short walking length,
which impeded her movements as slightly as anything not strictly adapted
to the exercise could do. Although her fencing lessons were some years
past, the paraphernalia belonging both to herself and Anthony were in the
house, and an occasional bout with the masks and foils was a means of
exercise and diversion which both thoroughly enjoyed. Although Juliet was
no match for the superior skill and endurance of her husband, she was
nevertheless no mean antagonist, and her alertness of eye and hand usually
gave him sufficient to do to make the encounter a stimulating one.
On the present occasion Anthony, challenged to combat with his coat and
cuffs on, and wielding the more awkward weapon of the two impromptu foils,
found himself distinctly at a disadvantage. Moreover, he was at the moment
not precisely in the mood for fun, and he began to defend himself with a
somewhat lazy indifference. After a minute or two, however, he discovered
that his adversary's slightly ruffled temper was inspiring her hand and
wrist to distinctly effective work, and he found himself forced to look to
his methods.
Attack and parade, disengagement and thrust--the battle was waged over the
uneven ground of the wood. And presently Anthony discovered that the
richly glowing face opposite his was a smiling one. The absurdity of the
match struck him irresistibly and he smiled in return. He tripped a little
over an obtruding oak-root, and Juliet took advantage of her opportunity
to press him hard. He fended off the attack and himself assumed the
aggressive. An instant more and he had disarmed her and had thrown his own
stick flying after hers. Both were laughing heartily enough.
"Forgive the trick," cried Anthony. "A man must disarm his wife when she
becomes his enemy."
Breathless, Juliet sank upon a small knoll, her hand at her side. "If I'd
been dressed for it--" she panted.
"You need coaching on your time thrusts, but you gave me plenty to do as
it was," Anthony admitted. "More than that, you've presented me with a
chance to recover my equilibrium. I was hot inside before. Now it's all on
the outside."
He looked down at her affectionately. She smiled back. "I was crosser than
sticks," she said. "I really can't imagine why, now. I apologise."
"So do I." He threw himself down on the ground at her feet, lay flat on
his back, his clasped hands behind his head, and gazed up into the
tree-tops.
"I'll take your advice into careful consideration," said he.
"I know you won't do anything rash," said she, and they both laughed
again.
"How much more diplomatic that sort of talk is," he observed. "Why do we
ever allow ourselves to use any other?"
"Because we are human, I suppose." Juliet was putting a mass of waving
brown hair, disordered by the fight, into shape again. "It isn't nice. We
don't do it often. To-night you came home tired, and found a wife who had
been entertaining people from town all the afternoon. But it's all right
now, isn't it?"
She bent forward, and Anthony took her outstretched hand in his own and
gave it a grip which made it sting. He began to whistle cheerfully.
"Should we be happier if we never disagreed?" she asked thoughtfully.
The whistle stopped. "Jupiter, no! I want a thinking being to talk things
over with, not a mental pincushion."
"Thank you.--Isn't it lovely here?"
"Delightful.--Julie, do you know we'll have been married five years next
September?"
"It doesn't seem possible."
"I shouldn't know it, to look at you," he observed. He rolled upon his
left side and regarded her from under intent brows. "You haven't grown a
day older."
"I'm not sure that's a compliment."
"It's meant for one. Do you know you're a beauty?"
"I never was one and never shall be," she answered laughing, but she could
not object to the obvious sincerity of his opinion as he delivered it.
"You're near enough to satisfy me. I'd rather have your good looks than
all the--Well, I sat in front of a newly married pair on the way home
to-night--that fellow Scrivener and his bride. _She's_ what people call a
raving beauty, I suppose. I wouldn't have her in the house at a dollar an
hour. She's a whiner. Had him doing something to satisfy her whim every
minute. I heard him trying to tell her about something that interested
him, but she couldn't take time from herself to listen. His voice had a
note of fatigue in it, already, or I'm not Robeson. I tell you,
Juliet--that's the sort of thing that makes a bachelor vow to stay single,
and he can't be blamed."
"Suppose a bachelor had overheard us half an hour ago?"
"I'm glad none did--but if he had it wouldn't have disgusted him the way
the other sort of thing did me to-day. A brisk little altercation is
nothing, with unlimited hours of friendliness and understanding before and
after. But a perpetual drizzle of fault finding and exactions--would make
a fellow go hang himself. Mrs. Robeson, do you know, you're a very
exceptional young person?"
"In what way, sir?"
"Whatever you do, you never nag. I've an awful suspicion that Judith Carey
nags. You know how to let a man alone when he's in the mood for being
alone. She never does. Carey had me out there not long ago, for what he
called a quiet, confidential talk on some business matters. We went into
what is supposed to be his private room and shut the door. Probably she
came to that door not less than twelve times during that two hours. She
called Carey away on every sort of pretext. Once she got him to do a
stroke of work for her that took up at least ten minutes neither of us
could spare. And she looked like a thundercloud every time I caught a
glimpse of her face. Caesar!--think of having to live with that sort of
person. No wonder Carey looks old before his time."
"It's certainly unfortunate. But I'm not an exception, Tony. There are
plenty of women who know when to keep out of the way."
"Well, then, they're erratic on some other line, that's all. You're
absolutely the only thoroughly sweet and sane woman I know."
"My dear boy! Remember how snappish I was just this evening."
"I was grouchy enough to match it. I tell you, Julie--the women who don't
talk you to death on every subject, important or trivial, bore you with
idiotic questions or impertinence about your affairs. How do I know so
much about 'em? My dear, dozens of them come into the office every day,
and Mr. Henderson has acquired a habit lately of turning them all over to
me. I earn a double salary every hour I spend that way--wish I could put
in a demand for it. Speaking of salaries, dear"--Anthony suddenly sat
up--"I've no right to be grouchy, for I'm promised another advance next
month."
"Splendid!" She put out her hand, and the two shook hands vigorously
again, like the pair of comrades they were.
"Juliet," said her husband, watching her face closely. "It's been a happy
five years, hasn't it?"
"A happy five years, Tony."
"Do you mean it?" He smiled at her. "You've never been sorry?" Then he got
to his feet and held out his hand again to help her up. "The mortal combat
we engaged in gave you a magnificent colour," he commented, and passed
affectionate fingers across the smooth cheek near his shoulder.
"Sweetheart----" he drew her into his arms--"I may fence with you once in
a while with sharp words for weapons, but--do you know how I love you?"
"I wonder why?"
"It's strange, isn't it?--after all these years. To be really up-to-date,
we should long since have become interested each in some other----"
A hand came gently but effectually upon his mouth. He kissed the hand.
"No, I won't say it. It's a cynical philosophy, and I'll not take its
language on my lips--not with my wife in my arms, giving the lie to that
sort of thing. Julie, we're not sentimentalists because we still
care----"
"Who thinks we are?"
"Plenty of envious skeptics, I'll wager. I see it in their green-eyed
glances. They can't believe it's genuine. Dear--is it genuine? Look up,
and tell me."
She looked up, and seeing his heart in his eyes, met his deep caress with
a tenderness which told him more than she could have put into the words
she suddenly found it impossible to speak.