In this eager, fast-living, nervous, high-strung man's world Keith took
to himself a prominent part. He was so fully-occupied in other
directions that his practice did not lead him into criminal law, so he
missed an influence that must have either ended by blunting or
repelling him. He corresponded to what nowadays would be called a
corporation lawyer. His clients were few, but wealthy, powerful, and
remunerative; his cases were subtle and hard fought, He enjoyed the
intricate game for its own sake, and he enjoyed his success in it. In
the inevitable give and take of a complicated world he knew, of course,
of shady doings beneath; but he was not personally involved; he
accepted them as part of the make-up of society, human nature, the
medium--of work.
But Nan was necessarily left more and more to her own devices. And,
further, she was left alone without even the preoccupation furnished
her domestic side by such an affair as that with Mrs. Morrell. She knew
that Keith was wholly absorbed in his business. She was loyal to his
unexpressed idea that in these propitious beginnings he must devote all
his energies to his career. She was loyal to his preoccupation. It was
the only way in which she could help. And yet, without being given
cause for grievance, she was temporarily thrust outside his life, put
in cold storage, as it were, until she should be wanted. He bolted
immediately after breakfast; often he did not come home to lunch; was
quite likely to go out again in the evening.
It followed that Nan had to make her own life out of the materials at
hand. This was at first difficult, for all the materials were novel to
her. Gradually, however, she fitted herself into the social
transformation that was taking place.
Heretofore, society had not existed. Now, vaguely, it was beginning to
take coherence and form. A transition period was on. The "nobs" were
evolving from chaos. People of the fast Morrell type were losing their
influence and ascendency, were being pushed aside to the fringes by the
more "solid" elements. Wealth and arrogant dignity were coming into
their innings. Formal functions, often on an elaborate scale, were
taking the place of the harum-scarum informal parties. There came up
some questions of social leadership. In short, social life was
developing into the usual game. Lacking other interests, Nan found it
amused her to play at it, to contend with the leaders, to form
alliances, to declare war, to assume by right and talent her place
among the best.
This pleased Keith. Social standing helped him in business; and he
enjoyed the sight of his beautiful young wife queening it serenely over
the city's best. He was always eager to advance money for new gowns or
expensive parties. At first he went out with her, but soon found that
three o'clock in the morning meant a next day's brain dulled of its
keenest edge. But he would not hear of her staying at home on his
account.
"I'm tired, and I'm going to bed right away," he told her. "You go and
uphold the splendour of the family. Get Ben to take you."
Ben Sansome was to Keith a tremendous convenience. He was the only idle
man in town, always on tap, ready to stay out any and every night until
the cocks crowed. Why shouldn't he? He had nothing to do all next day,
except, perhaps, to decide which stick he should carry! With a busy
man's good-humoured contempt for the mere idler, Keith looked upon
Sansome as a harmless household-pet sort of person; good natured,
accommodating, pleasant to talk to, good looking, foppish in dress, but
beneath any serious human being's notice. Sansome was on easy terms of
intimacy with the Keiths. It was mighty good of him to look out for
Nan. If he did not, Keith would have to.
In this formative period Ben Sansome was, however, a very important
figure in the woman's world. Social construction was a ticklish matter.
There were so many things to be decided; small items of etiquette, the
"proper thing"--procedure, decorations, good form, larger matters as to
whether so-and-so should be received, and if so, how extensively. Ben
Sansome was past master of such things. He was the only man in town who
knew--or cared--how to "draw lines." He became truly a modern _arbiter
elegantiarum_. For San Francisco had begun in real earnest to "draw
lines."
They were rather strange lines at times. Of course such people as the
Brannans, Montgomerys, Terrys, Bushs, Bakers, Caldwells, and other "old
families" (three or four years old), went without saying. Also were
included the greater merchants and their feminine representatives, such
as Palmer, Cook, Adams, Wilkins, and the like. Also there seemed to be
a solid foundation of those respectable and powerful with plenty of
wealth--"but hopeless, my dear, absolutely hopeless!" groaned some of
the livelier members.
Lightning struck capriciously at those on whom this new society might
frown, on those who as lately as last year had ridden the crest of the
wave. For example, it spared Sally Warner, with her spotted veils drawn
close around her face, her red belts, and her red tufts on her small
toques, but it blasted the Morrells. Mrs. Morrell clung tenaciously to
the outskirts, but she knew only too well that she did not "belong." In
her heart she ascribed this fact to Mrs. Keith. This was unjust, but it
added to her bitterness against her neighbours.
Perhaps her suspicions were not unnatural, for Nan won easily in this
game. She was undoubtedly the social leader. It seemed eminently
fitting that, lacking her husband, she should go out much with Ben
Sansome. Most women thought her lucky to have acquired so valuable a
social acquisition. Some people, like fat, coarse, sensible Mrs. Dick
Blatchford, were a little doubtful.
"Shucks!" snorted Sally Warner, slapping her little riding boot
dashingly with her latest novelty, an English hunting crop, "Nan Keith
impresses me as one who knows her way about. And, anyway, as long as
Mr. Keith is satisfied, I'm sure we should be!"