"Oh, 'anything' is nothing at all! That's too easily said." Mrs. Gereth,
reclining more completely, closed her eyes with an air of disgust, an
air indeed of inviting slumber.
Fleda looked at her quiet face, which the appearance of slumber always
made particularly handsome; she noted how much the ordeal of the last
few weeks had added to its indications of age. "Well then, try me with
something. What is it you demand?"
At this, opening her eyes, Mrs. Gereth sprang straight up. "Get him away
from her!"
Fleda marveled: her companion had in an instant become young again.
"Away from Mona? How in the world--?"
"By not looking like a fool!" cried Mrs. Gereth very sharply. She kissed
her, however, on the spot, to make up for this roughness, and summarily
took off her hat, which, on coming into the house, our young lady had
not removed. She applied a friendly touch to the girl's hair and gave a
businesslike pull to her jacket. "I say don't look like an idiot,
because you happen not to be one, not the least bit. _I_'m idiotic; I've
been so, I've just discovered, ever since our first days together. I've
been a precious donkey; but that's another affair."
Fleda, as if she humbly assented, went through no form of controverting
this; she simply stood passive to her companion's sudden refreshment of
her appearance. "How _can_ I get him away from her?" she presently
demanded.
"By letting yourself go."
"By letting myself go?" She spoke mechanically, still more like an
idiot, and felt as if her face flamed out the insincerity of her
question. It was vividly back again, the vision of the real way to act
upon Mrs. Gereth. This lady's movements were now rapid; she turned off
from her as quickly as she had seized her, and Fleda sat down to steady
herself for full responsibility.
Her hostess, without taking up her ejaculation, gave a violent poke at
the fire and then faced her again. "You've done two things, then,
to-day--haven't you?--that you've never done before. One has been asking
me the service, or favor, or concession--whatever you call it--that you
just mentioned; the other has been telling me--certainly too for the
first time--an immense little fib."
"An immense little fib?" Fleda felt weak; she was glad of the support of
her seat.
"An immense big one, then!" said Mrs. Gereth irritatedly. "You don't in
the least 'hate' Owen, my darling. You care for him very much. In fact,
my own, you're in love with him--there! Don't tell me any more lies!"
cried Mrs. Gereth with a voice and a face in the presence of which Fleda
recognized that there was nothing for her but to hold herself and take
them. When once the truth was out, it was out, and she could see more
and more every instant that it would be the only way. She accepted
therefore what had to come; she leaned back her head and closed her eyes
as her companion had done just before. She would have covered her face
with her hands but for the still greater shame. "Oh, you're a wonder, a
wonder," said Mrs. Gereth; "you're magnificent, and I was right, as soon
as I saw you, to pick you out and trust you!" Fleda closed her eyes
tighter at this last word, but her friend kept it up. "I never dreamed
of it till a while ago, when, after he had come and gone, we were face
to face. Then something stuck out of you; it strongly impressed me, and
I didn't know at first quite what to make of it. It was that you had
just been with him and that you were not natural. Not natural to _me_,"
she added with a smile. "I pricked up my ears, and all that this might
mean dawned upon me when you said you had asked nothing about Mona. It
put me on the scent, but I didn't show you, did I? I felt it was _in_
you, deep down, and that I must draw it out. Well, I _have_ drawn it,
and it's a blessing. Yesterday, when you shed tears at breakfast, I was
awfully puzzled. What has been the matter with you all the while? Why,
Fleda, it isn't a crime, don't you know that?" cried the delighted
woman. "When I was a girl I was always in love, and not always with such
nice people as Owen. I didn't behave as well as you; compared with you I
think I must have been horrid. But if you're proud and reserved, it's
your own affair; I'm proud too, though I'm not reserved--that's what
spoils it. I'm stupid, above all--that's what I am; so dense that I
really blush for it. However, no one but you could have deceived me. If
I trusted you, moreover, it was exactly to be cleverer than myself. You
must be so now more than ever!" Suddenly Fleda felt her hands grasped:
Mrs. Gereth had plumped down at her feet and was leaning on her knees.
"Save him--save him: you _can_!" she passionately pleaded. "How could
you _not_ like him, when he's such a dear? He _is_ a dear, darling;
there's no harm in my own boy! You can do what you will with him--you
know you can! What else does he give us all this time for? Get him away
from her; it's as if he besought you to, poor wretch! Don't abandon him
to such a fate, and I'll never abandon _you_. Think of him with that
creature, that future! If you'll take him I'll give up everything.
There, it's a solemn promise, the most sacred of my life! Get the better
of her, and he shall have every stick I removed. Give me your word, and
I'll accept it. I'll write for the packers to-night!"
Fleda, before this, had fallen forward on her companion's neck, and the
two women, clinging together, had got up while the younger wailed on the
other's bosom. "You smooth it down because you see more in it than there
can ever be; but after my hideous double game how will you be able to
believe in me again?"
"I see in it simply what _must_ be, if you've a single spark of pity.
Where on earth was the double game, when you've behaved like such a
saint? You've been beautiful, you've been exquisite, and all our trouble
is over."
Fleda, drying her eyes, shook her head ever so sadly. "No, Mrs. Gereth,
it isn't over. I can't do what you ask--I can't meet your condition."
Mrs. Gereth stared; the cloud gathered in her face again. "Why, in the
name of goodness, when you adore him? I know what you see in him," she
declared in another tone. "You're right!"