"How many times do you ring if you want a cocktail?"
"Twice. If you'll ring four times I'll have one with you. I spilt
mine."
So my father pushed the bell four times and complimented me on my love
of system and order, and then he returned to his first question.
"Do you think it wise?"
"Well, father," I said, "we've always been pretty good friends. Will
you tell me why you think it isn't wise?"
"Yes, I will," he said; "I think it's foolish for a man to run after
women in his own class for any other purpose than matrimony."
"So do I!" said I.
"A man," he persisted, "doesn't always know that he is running after a
woman. Nature will fool him. Look at young lovers! Why, they
actually believe in the beautiful fabric of spiritual poetry that they
weave about each other. And nature lets 'em. But men who have seen
life, and have lived, as I shouldn't be at all surprised if you had,
for instance, are able to see the ugly mundane facts through the rosy
mist. My boy, you and Lucy Fulton are being talked about. You don't
have to tell me it's none of my business, I know that. But I can't
help wanting you to steer clear of rows, and I don't want to see any
woman get mud thrown on her because of you. For a man of course,
unfortunately, consequences never amount to much. It's for the woman
that I should plead if I had any eloquence or persuasiveness. I'd say
to you, don't run away for your own sake, that's not worth while; but
run away for hers. Now you will forgive me, my dear fellow, won't you,
for butting in like this. . . ."
The cocktails came, and when the man who brought them had gone, I said:
"It's for her sake that I'm staying, father; will you listen a little?
You're the only man in the world that I can talk to without fear of
being repeated. As far as going to California is concerned I _was_
going--until a late hour this afternoon. I felt more concern at
leaving my mother than anyone else. You believe that?"
He nodded to what was left of his cocktail.
"Lucy and I may have been talked about, but there was absolutely no
reason why we should have been. We rode together this afternoon and
out of a clear sky she told me that she had fallen out of love with her
husband--for no _reason_ at all, that's the worst of it--and she
doesn't know what to do, and has no friend she feels like talking to
about it, except me. That's why I'm staying. She _asked_ me not to
go. And of course I said I wouldn't."
My father finished his cocktail, and blew his nose.
"Oh," I said, "I'm not infatuated with the situation either."
"Women certainly do beat the Dutch!" said my father. "I suppose she
wants advice, and backing when she doesn't follow it."
"If I can keep her in the path of her duty, father, be sure I will."
"And if you can't?"
"It's a real tragedy," I said. "They were the happiest and most loving
couple in the world, except you and mother, and only a short time ago."
"What time is it?" asked my father.
"I've broken my watch."
"Well, it doesn't matter if we are a little late for dinner."
He cleared his throat, and turned a fine turkey-cock red, and looked
very old-fashioned and handsome.
"I never thought to tell you this," he said; "it's like throwing mud on
a saint. Once your mother came to me and said she didn't love me any
more and that she loved another man and wanted to go away with him."
"I feel as if you'd kicked my feet out from under me."
"It doesn't seem to have come quite to that with Lucy, but it may, and
in some ways the cases are parallel. I took counsel with your
grandfather. He advised me to whip her. When I refused to do that, he
gave less drastic advice, which I followed. I told your mother and the
man that if after a year during which they should neither see each
other nor communicate they still wanted each other, I would give your
mother a divorce. I don't know when they stopped caring about each
other. I think it took your mother less than three months to get over
him. And if he lasted three weeks, why I'm the dog that--he was."