"I'LL SEE HOW YOU BEHAVE"
The dawn of the following sacred day was bright, beautiful, and
serene, bringing to the world a new wealth of opportunity. Miss
Wildmere began its hours depressed and undecided. Her conscience and
better angel were pleading; she felt vaguely that her life and its
motives were wrong, and was uncomfortable over the consciousness. Her
phase of character, however, was one of the most hopeless. It was true
that her vanity had grown to the proportions of a disease, but even
this might be overcome. Her father's stern words had wounded it
terribly, and she had experienced twinges of self-disgust. But another
trait had become inwrought, by long habit, with every fibre of her
soul--selfishness. It was almost impossible to give up her own way and
wishes. Graydon Muir pleased her fancy, and she was bent on marrying
him. Her father's assurance that she would bring him disappointment,
not happiness, weighed little. Too many men had told her that she
was essential to their happiness to permit qualms on this score. Her
conscience did shrink, to some extent, from a loveless, business-like
marriage, and her preference for Graydon made such a union all the
more repugnant; but she was incapable of feeling that she would do him
a wrong by giving him the pretty jewelled hand for which so many had
asked. Indeed, the question now was, Could she be so self-sacrificing
as to think of it under the circumstances? If that stock would only
rise, if in some way she could be assured that the Muirs would be
sustained, and so pass on to the wealth sure to flow in upon them in
prosperous times, she would decide the question at once, whether they
would do anything for her father or not. He could scramble on in
some way, as he had done in the past. What she desired most was the
assurance that there should be no long and doubtful interregnum
of poverty and privation--that she might continue to be a queen in
society during the period of youth and beauty.
This remained the chief consideration amid the chaos of her
conflicting feelings and interests, for she had lived this life so
long that she could imagine no other as endurable. She had, moreover,
the persistence of a small nature, and longed to humiliate the Muir
pride, and to spite Madge Alden, who she half believed cherished more
than a sisterly regard for Graydon. As for her father, she did little
more than resent his words and the humiliating disquietude they had
caused. They had sorely wounded her vanity, and presented a painful
alternative.
As the day passed, and old habits of mind resumed sway, she began to
concentrate her thoughts on three questions: Should she accept Graydon
and take her chances with him? Should she accept Mr. Arnault, with his
wealth, and be safe? or should she hesitate a little longer, in the
hope that she could secure Graydon and wealth also? The persistence
of a will that had always had its own way decided finally in favor of
the last course of action. She would not give Graydon up unless she
must, and not until she must. Accustomed to consult self-interest,
she believed that her father was doing the same, that he was favoring
Arnault because the latter would be more useful to him, and that for
this reason he was exaggerating the Muirs' peril, if not inventing
it. She dismissed his words about leaving Wall Street with scarcely a
thought; he always talked in this way when the times were bad or his
ventures unlucky. They had been on the eve of ruin so many times, that
the cry of "wolf" was not so alarming as formerly.
"I suppose I must decide before this week is over," she thought.
"Arnault has practically given me this length of time, and I shall
take him at his word." Therefore, she was very sweet to him during the
morning hours, and prepared him to submit to her drive with Graydon in
the afternoon.
Arnault felt that he had given his ultimatum, and was resolved to
abide by it. At the same time he knew that it would be a terrible
wrench to give up the girl. The very difficulty of winning her had
stimulated to the utmost his passion for attainment. She was the best
that existed in his superficial world, and fulfilled his ideal. Her
delicate yet somewhat voluptuous beauty completely intoxicated him.
He too thought, and made his decision during the day. If he won her at
all it must be speedily, and it should be done by promises of devotion
and wealth if possible, and by breaking the Muirs down if this should
become necessary. The time had come for decisive action. It was
evident that her father was in sore straits; the man's appearance
confirmed this belief. Arnault was almost certain that Henry Muir was
in his power. He would not play the latter card unless he must, but he
would watch so vigilantly as to be promptly aware of the necessity. He
decided to spend several days of the present week in the mountains and
so keep himself informed how the game went here, and while in the city
he would not only be observant, but would also drop a few words
to weaken Mr. Muir's credit. One thing, however, was settled--the
problematical issue of his matrimonial scheme must soon be made
known, and he rather relished its congenial elements of speculative
uncertainty, being conscious that so much depended upon his skill and
power to pull unseen wires.
Seeing that Arnault was at Miss Wildmere's side, Graydon accompanied
his relatives to church, and soon found himself looking over the
same hymn-book with Madge. The choir were present, and she now merely
delighted Graydon with her rich alto; and so rich and true was it that
he often felt his nerves thrilling at her tones. He did not become
absorbed in the service or sermon, but thought a little wonderingly:
"Here is a faith ever finding expression all over the world, while I
ignore it. How much truth does it represent? It's evidently a reality
to Madge, although she makes so little parade of the fact. I don't
believe she would do anything contrary to its teachings as she
understands them. We men may think what we please, but we have
confidence in a woman who looks as she does now. She is not in
the least inclined to devotional rhapsodies or to subserviency
to priestcraft, like so many women abroad. She merely appears to
recognize a divine power as she accepts nature, only more reverently
and consciously. I suppose I am an agnostic as much as anything, yet
I should only be too glad to have Stella at my side with such
an expression on her face. I wonder if she will go with me this
afternoon. I will submit to this diplomacy a few days longer, and
shall then end the matter. There is an increasing revulsion of my
whole being from such tactics in my future wife. Beyond a certain
point she shall not be a partner in her father's gambling operations,
and I would have brought the affair to an end at once, were it not for
that limp little woman, his wife, and her child. But I can't sacrifice
my self-respect and Stella's character for them. I must get her out
of that atmosphere, so that her true nature may develop. Sweet Madge
Alden, with your eyes so serious and true, and again so full of mirth
and spirit, what a treasure you will prove some day if there is a man
worthy of you!"
In his deep preoccupation, he forgot his intent regard, until reminded
of it by the slow deepening of her color, which so enhanced her beauty
that he could not at once withdraw his gaze. Suddenly she turned on
him with a half-angry, half-mirthful flash in her eyes, and whispered,
"Looking at girls in church is not good form; but, if you will do it,
look at some other girl."
He was delighted at this little unexpected prick, and replied, "St.
Paul never would have complained of such a thorn." Then he saw Dr.
Sommers looking ominously at him. This factotum of the chapel sat
where he could oversee the miscellaneous little assemblage, and
his eyes instantly pounced upon any offender. Graydon pushed his
insubordination no further than making an irreverent face at the
doctor, and then addressed himself to the minister during the
remainder of the hour.
"We'll arrange it differently next Sunday, Miss Alden," said the
doctor, as Madge passed out; "I'll have Mr. Muir sit with me."
"Try it," whispered Graydon, "and if you don't fall from grace before
meeting is over I'll give you a new trout-pole. Miss Alden can manage
me better than you can."
"No doubt, no doubt. A man must be in a bad way if she couldn't make a
saint of him if she undertook it," was the doctor's laughing reply.
Greatly amused, Graydon repeated the words to Madge. "She won't
undertake it in this case," was her brusque comment. "I have no
ambition to enlighten continental heathen, with their superior
tolerance of a faith good enough for women and children."
"My charming rose has not only a thorn but a theological stiletto in
her belt."
"It is evident you have never had trouble, Graydon."
"Why is it evident?"
"Because you are content with the surface-tide of life."
"And you are not?"
"One rarely is when fearing to sink."
"What has that to do with faith?"
"Faith can sustain; that's all."
"And your faith sustained you?"
"What else was there to sustain when day after day brought, not a
choice of pleasures, but the question, Shall I live or die?"
"Poor Madge! Dear Madge! And you didn't let me know. I don't suppose I
could have helped you, though."
"No; not then."
"Madge," he said, earnestly, "won't you promise me one thing? If you
ever should have trouble of any kind again, won't you let me help you,
or at least try to?"
"I'll see how you behave," she said, laughing. "Besides, it's not
women's place to make trouble for men. The idea! Our mission is to
soothe and console you superior beings."
"Women do make a power of trouble for men. Mother Eve began wrong,
and--"
"And Adam laid all his misdeeds on her weak shoulders."
"The upshot of all this talk is, I suppose, that your shoulders are
so strong, and your spirit so high, that you can at least take care of
your own troubles."
"I hope so," she again laughed, "and be ready also to give you a lift.
When you successful men do get a tumble in life, you are the most
helpless of mortals."
"Well, well, well, to think that I am talking to little Madge, who
could not say good-by to me without fainting away!"
"Good-by meant more to me than to you. You were going away to new and
pleasant activity. I doubted whether I should see you again--or indeed
any one long," she added, hastily.
"Don't imagine that I did not feel awfully that night, dear Madge.
Tears do not come into my eyes easily, but I added a little salt
water to the ocean as I leaned over the taffrail and saw the city that
contained you fade from view."
"Did you truly, Graydon?" she asked, turning away.
"I did, indeed."
In her averted face and quickened respiration he thought he saw traces
of more than passing feeling, but she turned on him in sudden gayety,
and said: "Whenever I see the ocean I'll remember how its tides have
been increased. Graydon, I've a secret to tell you, which, for
an intense, aesthetic, and vaguely devotional woman, is a most
humiliating confession: I'm awfully hungry. When will dinner be
ready?"
"I have a secret to tell you also," he replied, with a half-vexed
flash in his eyes: "There is a girl in this house who explains
herself more or less every day, and who yet remains the most charming
conundrum that ever kept a man awake from perplexity."
"Oh, dear!" cried Madge, "is Miss Wildmere so bad as that? Poor, pale
victim of insomnia! By the way, do you and Mr. Arnault keep a ledger
account of the time you receive? or do you roughly go on the principle
of 'share and share alike'?" and with eyes flashing back laughter at
his reddening face, she ran up the steps and disappeared.
"That was a Parthian arrow," he muttered. "If we go smoothly on the
sharing principle at present, we shall soon go roughly enough, or
cease to go at all."
But the lady in question was putting forth all her resources, which
were not slight when enlisted in her own behalf, to keep the two men
_in statu quo_ until more time, with its chances, should pass.
Arnault smiled grimly when he saw her departing with Graydon. She had
been evasive, but very friendly, during the day thus far, and after
what he had said the preceding night he felt that he was committed to
her moods for a week if he could not bring her to a decision before.
Seeing Mr. Wildmere walking restlessly up and down the piazza, he
joined him, and offering a superb cigar, said, "Suppose we go out to
the lake and see where the little kid was so nearly drowned."
Soon after they were smoking in the shade, the thoughts of both
reverting to kindred anxieties. Arnault decided to make one move
before the final one. Perhaps only this would be required; perhaps
it might prepare the way for more serious action. They talked over
business. Arnault, permitting the other to see through a veiled
distinctness of language that he was prospering, remarked, "By the
way, I have a little transaction which I wish you would carry out for
us," and mentioned an affair of ordinary brokerage, concluding, in
off-hand tones, "from what you said some days since I infer that you
may find a little money handy at present. I can let you have a check
for five hundred or a thousand just as well as not. I know how dull
times are now, and you will soon make it up by commissions."
The hard-pressed man could scarcely disguise the relief which these
words brought. He began a grateful acknowledgment of the kindness,
when Arnault interrupted him by saying, "Oh, that's nothing--mere
matter of business. I will write you a check to-night for a thousand.
It's only an advance, you know," and then changed the subject.
"Will you go to town to-morrow?" Mr. Wildmere asked.
"No, not to-morrow. I'll run down Tuesday or Wednesday. In spite of
the times business doesn't give us much leeway this summer, but I've
arranged to be away more or less at present." Then he added, with what
was meant to be a frank, deprecatory laugh, "I suppose you see how
it is. It's some time since I asked permission to pay my addresses to
your daughter. I don't think I've been neglectful of opportunities,
but I don't get on as fast as I would like, and now feel that if I
would keep any chance at all I must be on hand. Muir is a formidable
rival."
"You know that you have my consent and more, Mr. Arnault."
"It's the lady's consent that I must obtain," was the reply. "Muir is
a fine fellow, and I cannot wonder that she hesitates--that is, if
she does hesitate. I may be wasting my time here and adding to the
bitterness of my disappointment, for of course it must become greater
if I see Miss Wildmere every day and still fail."
There was a covert question in this remark, and after a moment or two
Mr. Wildmere said, hesitatingly: "I do not think you are wasting your
time. I think Stella is in honest doubt as to her choice. At least,
that is my impression. You know that young ladies in our free land
do not take much counsel of parents, and Stella has ever been very
independent in her views. When once she makes up her mind you will
find her very decided and loyal. Of course I have my strong preference
in this case, and have a right also to make it known to her, as
I shall. I should be very sorry to see her engaged to a man whose
fortunes are dependent on a brother in such financial straits as Mr.
Muir is undoubtedly in."
"Do you think Henry Muir is in very great danger?"
"I do indeed."
"Hum!" ejaculated Arnault, looking serious.
"What! would he involve you?"
"Oh, no, a mere trifle; but then--Well, please make some inquiries
to-morrow, and I'll see you during the week."
"I'll do anything I can to oblige you, Mr. Arnault. I wouldn't like my
questions, however, to hurt Muir's credit, you understand."
"Of course not, nor would I wish this; but as one of our brokers you
can pick up some information, like enough. I knew, as did others, that
Muir was having a rather hard time of it, but if there is pressing
danger I may have to take some action."
"In that case of course you can command me."
"I only wish to do what is fair and considerate among business men.
We'll lunch together when I come to town, and perhaps the case will be
clearer then."
During his drive with Miss Wildmere, Graydon simply adhered to the
tactics which he had adopted, and she saw that he was waiting until
the Arnault phase of the problem should be eliminated. When, however,
she took occasion to bewail the dismal prospects of her "poor papa,"
and to open the way for him to speak naturally of his own and his
brother's affairs, he was gravely silent. She didn't like this, for
it tended to confirm her father's belief that they were in trouble,
or else it looked like suspicion of her motive. The trait of reticence
which Graydon at times shared with his brother was not agreeable, for
it suggested hidden processes of thought which might develop into
very decisive action. She came back satisfied that Graydon was still
thoroughly "in hand," and that she must obtain information in some
other way, if possible.
There was sacred music in the parlor during the evening, but neither
Miss Wildmere nor Madge would sing in solo. Graydon good-naturedly
tried to arrange a duet between the two girls. The former declined
instantly, yet took off the edge of her refusal by saying, "I would
gladly sing for you if I could, but do not care to permit all these
strangers to institute comparisons."
Therefore, the guests sang in chorus as usual, a professional playing
the accompaniments. There were few, however, who did not recognize
the strong, sweet alto which ran through each melody like a minor key.
Graydon's acute ear for music heard little else, and he said to Madge
"I shall be glad when this hotel life is over. What delicious evenings
I shall have this fall! By the way, I'm going to have your piano tuned
when I go to town."
"Perhaps."
"Perhaps what? Perhaps I shall remember about the tuner? You'll see."
"I may go back with the Waylands. I'm not at all sure that I shall not
spend my winter on the Pacific."
"Why, Madge! With your health you could spend it in Greenland."
"That's what I may do. We always have a lovely green land in that
climate."
"I must investigate Santa Barbara. You have left some one or something
there which has powerful attractions."
"Yes, memories; as well as skies so bright that you can't help smiling
back at them."
"I supposed you were going to enter society this fall and create a
_furore_."
"Oh, bah!" Then she began to laugh, and said, "A certain gentleman in
this house thought I was so bent on having my fling in society that I
didn't wish to be embarrassed by even a little fraternal counsel."
"A certain fellow in this house finds himself embarrassed by a
black-eyed clairvoyant, who reads his thoughts as if they were
sign-boards, but remains inscrutable herself."
"Such an objectionable and inconvenient creature should certainly be
banished to wilds of the West"
"As one of the Muir family I'll never consent."
"You'll soon be engrossed by cares of your own," she concluded,
laughing. "Good-night."
"Stay," said Graydon, eagerly; "one so gifted with second-sight should
be able to read the thoughts of others."
"Whose?" Madge asked, demurely.
"Whose indeed? As if you did not know! Miss Wildmere's."
"What! Reveal a woman's thoughts? I won't speak to you again
to-night;" and she left him with his tranquillity not a little
disturbed.