The unhappy marriages of which Grace had known had failed for obvious
reasons, but Trenton’s case was fascinating in its subtleties. He
spoke of his wife as a man might speak of a woman he admired in a
detached sort of way without really knowing her. In spite of his
amiable attitude toward Mrs. Trenton, Grace found herself instantly
his partisan; she was sure his failure as he called it was his wife’s
fault. She greatly disliked this woman she had never seen. She started
and flushed when he said abruptly, almost as though he had read her
thoughts:
“You’re getting ready to pity me--but don’t do it! It’s something in
me that’s wrong. We don’t quarrel and throw dishes across the table or
call each other names. We respect each other tremendously. It isn’t
even one of these triangular affairs,--another man or woman. When we
meet now and then we talk quite sanely and sensibly of the news of
the day and the arts and sciences, as two strangers might talk in a
smoking car. The trouble may lie right there. A man and wife must be
necessary to each other to make a perfect marriage and we are not. For
seven or eight years we’ve mostly gone our separate ways. She has her
own interests, plenty of them. If I tell her I’m going to Hong Kong
to do a job and ask her to go along she’ll say that she doesn’t think
it would amuse her. She’ll go to Paris and stay till I come back. All
cheerful, you understand; no row! Mrs. Trenton’s quite able to do as
she pleases,--as to money, I mean,--independently of me. And she knows
people everywhere and they like to have her around. I like having her
around myself!”
“Perhaps one of these days everything will come right,” said Grace.
“Possibly,” he said. “But that’s enough of me. Let’s talk about you a
little.”
He drew her out as to her experiences at the university but when these
were exhausted he told her something of his own history. He had been
thrown upon the world at an early age, and, not without difficulty,
had worked his way through a technical school. His profession had
carried him to every part of the world. He told amusing stories of the
reaction of remote foreign peoples to the magic of modern machinery.
No other man had ever interested Grace half so much. Trenton was like
a pilgrim from another and larger world; she was fascinated by the
cosmopolitan fashion in which he changed the scene of his adventures
from China to South Africa and from South America to far-flung islands
whose very names were touched with the glamour of romance. Some of
his journeys had been merely pleasure excursions; he got restless
sometimes, he said, and had to go somewhere; but chiefly he had
traveled to sell or to install machinery, or to work out mechanical
problems under new and difficult conditions. There was no conceit in
him--a vein of self-mockery ran through most of his talk. He made light
of the perplexities and dangers he had encountered; there was no fun,
he said, in the performance of easy tasks. He knew usually when he was
employed that his services were sought in the hope that he might be
able to solve riddles which other very capable persons had given up.
Grace studied him at leisure through his desultory monologue,
interrupting only to ask questions to keep him assured of her interest.
Her mind turned back repeatedly to what he had said of his wife. She
was quite sure that Mrs. Trenton didn’t appreciate her husband’s
fine qualities. He was a man of genius, and as such probably wasn’t
always easy to understand; but it was Mrs. Trenton’s business, the
girl reflected, to learn to understand him, to seek ways of making him
happy. She was more and more struck by his seeming indifference to most
things, even to is own achievements. Her imagination played upon him
with girlish romanticism. He ought to be aroused, awakened; he deserved
to be loved, to have the companionship he craved. And yet from the
manner in which he spoke of his wife it was a serious question whether
he didn’t love her. Whether the unknown woman loved him was another
question that kept thrusting itself into her thoughts.
As he rambled on through the hour they were alone he played fitfully
with the end of a gold locket which he carried on his watch chain.
He would draw this from his right hand waistcoat pocket, seemingly
unconscious of what he was doing, and hold it in his hand or smooth it
caressingly. She speculated as to whether it did not contain a picture
of Mrs. Trenton; she even considered asking him to let her see it.
Again steps and voices were heard above and Trenton looked at his watch.
“It’s eleven o’clock and Tommy and I are taking the midnight train for
St. Louis,” he said. “We’ve got to beat it.”
She rose and stood beside him, sorry that the evening was so nearly
over.
“I’ll always remember tonight; you’ve been awfully nice to me!” she
said.
“Please don’t! If you begin thanking me I’ll know you feel I’m older
than the hills. I see it all now! I made my story cover too many years!”
“Oh, that’s not it at all!” she protested. “I was just wondering how
you ever crowded so much into your young life!”
“You do that sort of thing very prettily! And when you look at me like
that you become dangerous.”
“You really don’t think I’m dangerous--not in the least little bit!”
“I’m not to be caught in that trap! A wise man never acknowledges to
a woman that she’s dangerous. They ought to have taught you that at
the university. But you’re patient! You’ve listened to me as Desdemona
listened to Othello!”
“I believe,” she said daringly, tilting her head, “I believe I’d like
to flirt with you--oh, just a little bit!”
He took a step nearer, his hands thrust into his pockets in his
characteristic way. He drew them out and they fell to his side as he
regarded her fixedly with a smile on his lips. Then very gently he took
her cheeks between his hands. She thrilled at the touch. They were fine
strong hands; she had noted repeatedly all through the evening how
finely formed they were, and the strength implied in them.
“It’s meant very much to me to meet you--you can’t know how much. I
almost feel that I know you a little bit.”
“It’s meant so much more to me,” she returned sincerely. “I’d be
ashamed if I wasn’t grateful. And that doesn’t mean at all that I feel
that you’re a day older than I am!”
They were smiling gravely into each other’s eyes. There was not for the
moment at least any question of a disparity of years. She drew away
slowly until her face was free of his touch; then she laid her hands
lightly on his shoulders.
“Please kiss me,” she whispered, and their lips met.
“Here, you two!”
They swung around to find Kemp in the door, watch in hand.
“We’ve just got time to make it. Your bag is at the station, Ward? All
right. Go up and get your things, Grace. And tell Irene to hurry.”
Kemp was again the man of business, his preoccupation with the journey
already showing in his eyes.
Irene was giving the last touches to her hair when Grace found her.
“Ready in just a minute,” she said. “How did you get on with good old
Ward?”
“He’s perfectly lovely! He’s the most interesting man I ever met!”
“That’s what they all say. Have any luck vamping him?”
“Of course not,” replied Grace, putting on her hat. “You couldn’t
expect me to make a hit with a man like that. He’s too big and much too
wise.”
“Oh, the wiser they are the harder they fall!” replied Irene
carelessly. “It’s something that he didn’t leave you and go out for a
walk all by his lonesome. That’s the way he treated a girl I wished
on him once. Actually, my dear, walked out of the house and didn’t
come back till Tommy and I were ready to go! But she got soused, the
little fool. I guess I was lit up for a little while tonight and Tommy
certainly was feeling his poison when Jerry put the wine away. He’s all
right now. It hits him quick and then it’s all over.”
Jerry appeared to bow them ceremoniously into the car. On the way into
town they talked only fitfully. When the men spoke it was to discuss
the business that was calling them to St. Louis.
“I’m going to Minnie Lawton’s for the night, Grace,” said Irene. “You’d
better stop there with me. It’s easier doing that than explaining
things at home. There won’t be time for you to stop at Minnie’s to
change your things.”
Grace had considered the possible embarrassment that might result from
going home at midnight in the new gown. She meant to explain that she
had changed before leaving the store and had gone home with Irene
after the French lesson, and some of Irene’s friends had dropped in.
“Don’t take a chance of being scolded,” remarked Kemp. “You know your
family and I suppose you have some leeway. I’d hate for you to get into
trouble.”
“Oh, I’ll fix everything all right. It isn’t so awfully late. I’ll be
home by twelve.”
They dropped Irene at Minnie’s and then swung westward. Grace indicated
a point a block from home where they might leave her.
“If you like The Shack I hope you’ll come again,” said Kemp. “It’s been
fine to have you along.”
“We’ll meet again,” said Trenton. “We didn’t settle much! There’ll have
to be some more talks--many of them I hope!”
“I hope so too! Thank you both ever so much.”
When she reached the Durland gate she caught a last glimpse of the tail
light as the car swung southward round the park.