John Endor had arranged that after his meeting at Hellington he should
go on to Wyndham, his mother’s house, some twenty miles away in the
neighboring county of Middleshire, and there spend the week-end. Helen
had promised to join him on the Saturday. She had yet to make the
acquaintance of Lady Elizabeth, but now that the Rubicon was as good as
crossed, she was called upon to face the rather dreaded music of the
maternal criticism.
As things turned out, this week-end plan chimed very well with the
course of events. Thursday was the day of the Hellington meeting; it
was also the day of Helen’s powerfully disturbing talk with Saul Hartz.
And at the breakfast table on Friday morning, when she opened her
_Planet_ prior to setting out for the Office, she received a further
shock. Two heavy captions on the paper’s front page at once caught her
eye:
RIOT AT HELLINGTON
M. P.’S MEETING BROKEN UP
It was no more than she expected. John had been refused a hearing.
Missiles had been thrown, and, finally, a hostile mob had stormed the
platform. Moreover, in the course of the fierce _mêlée_ which had
followed, the would-be speaker had sustained an injury to his head.
On the way to the Office, Helen’s first act was to telegraph to Wyndham
for fuller particulars. The three hours which had to elapse before a
reply came were spent in great bitterness of spirit. John might or
might not be sorely hurt, but this harsh sequel to the wrong he had
already suffered was going to make it very difficult to forgive the
authors of the mischief.
Precisely who those authors were, Helen, as yet, was in a position only
to surmise. The whole thing was a cruel blunder on the part of the U.
P. And yet, as far as Helen was concerned, the real tragedy lay in Saul
Hartz’s defense of it.
As soon as she reached the Office, she at once pointed out to the Chief
what had happened. He professed a sincere regret and promised that
Mr. Endor’s denial of his misreported Blackhampton speech, which had
provoked the trouble, should be immediately circulated.
“But one understood,” said Helen, “that the contradiction was to appear
this morning.”
“You are quite right,” said the Chief, with a fine appearance of
candor. “Presently I will go into the whole matter with Mr. Gage
and Mr. Fuller and Mr. Bryant. They are entitled to stand their
ground. One feels for them--in fact, one quite sympathizes with
their attitude--but they must not ignore instructions. Mr. Endor’s
contradiction, as I have already promised you, shall be given full
publicity.”
“Too late, I’m afraid, to be of the slightest use now,” said Helen,
bitterly.
“We’ll hope not,” said the Chief, with an oleaginous purr. “It’s never
too late to repair an indiscretion.”
But Helen’s temper showed a rising insurgency. “To my mind,” she said,
“the whole thing is indefensible. It’s a blunder or worse, on the part
of somebody.”
Mr. Hartz did his best with soft words, but Helen was deeply angry.
Clearly he was afraid of losing her and, rather than do so, he was
ready to grovel. Several times, indeed, in the course of this painful
interview, she was on the point of taking a definite, irrevocable step,
but the consummate tact of the man with whom she was dealing was just
able to stave off a final decision. And yet, in Helen’s own mind, it
was not this diplomacy which really turned the scale; it was, when all
was said, a sense of deep loyalty to one from whom she had received
much kindness that became the determining factor.
“I understand you’ve telegraphed for further news. As soon as you hear,
please let me know how he is, unfortunate fellow!”
With that almost angelic valediction in her ears, Helen retired. But
anger, impatience, bitterness were running riot. Her spirit was more
than ever at war. Why had she not the resolution to break with this
man? As soon as she had forsaken the presence of this spell-binder for
the privacy of her own room, the stern question had to be met. A breach
was almost inevitable now.
In a state of miserable indecision she returned to her work. But all
the morning her thoughts were elsewhere. She could think of little save
the answer to her telegram. Just before one o’clock, however, came the
welcome news that John’s injury was not serious and that he was looking
forward to seeing her on the morrow at Wyndham.