THE WOMAN.
Only a little brown woman she.
Man of the world and profligate he,
Hard and conscienceless, cynical, yet,
Somehow, when he and the woman met,
He learned what other there is in life
Than passion-feeding and careless strife.
There came resolve and a sense of shame,
For she made as his motto but "Faith and fame."
The world is foolish: we cover truth;
We're barred by the gates that we built in youth.
Two were they surely, and two might stay,
But she turned him into the better way;
His thoughts were purified even when
He chafed and raged at the might-have-been;
He learned that living is not a whim,
For the soul in her entered into him.
He fights, as others, to win or fall,
And the spell of the Woman is over all.
Bravely they battle in their degree,
For--"The woman I love shall be proud of me!"
And the man and woman, the one in heart,
May be buried together or hurled apart,
But the strong will battle in his degree,
For--"The woman I love shall be proud of me!"
There were men and women, and music and flowers, and some of the people
had intelligence, and I drifted about at the Laffins' party, and rather
enjoyed myself. Of course I wanted to see the woman a fancy for whom
had gripped Harlson so hardly. I had forgotten about her until, with a
pleasant and clever person upon my arm, I had found something to eat
and had come upstairs again, and released her to another. I wandered
into an adjacent room, and there ran upon Harlson among a group. I was
presented to Miss Cornish.
I do not know how to describe a woman. This one, whom I have known
better than any other woman in the world, is most difficult of all for
me to picture. She stood there, not uninterested altogether, for, no
doubt, Harlson had been telling her already of his closest friend, his
lieutenant in many things, and I had an opportunity to study her with
all closeness as we exchanged the commonplaces. I understood, when I
saw her, how it was that he had referred to her so absurdly as a little
brown streak of a thing. Little she was, assuredly, and brown, and so
slender, that his simile was not bad, but the brownness and the
slenderness were by no means all there was noticeable of her. She was
not imposing, this woman, but she was not commonplace. Supple of
figure she was, and there were the big eyes this stricken friend of
mine had told me of, and rather pronounced eyebrows, and her lips were
full and red, and there was that fullness of the chin, or, rather, the
vague dream or hint or vision of a daintily double chin at fifty, which
means so much, but the forehead was what a woman's should be, and the
glance of the eyes was clean and pure, though, in a clever woman's way,
observant and comprehensive. It was a cultivated and fascinating woman
whom I met.
We talked together, and Grant Harlson looked on gratified, and she
seemed to like me. She made me feel, in her own way, that she liked me
because she knew of me, and as we were talking I felt that she was
paying, unconsciously, the greatest compliment she could to the man
beside us. I knew it was because of the other, and of something that
he had said of me, that she was so readily on terms of comradeship.
And I knew, in the same connection, and from the same reasoning, that
she had already begun to care as much for him as he for her--the man
who, the night before, had so comported himself with me. Of course, it
appears absurd that I could reach such a conclusion upon so little
basis, but to tell when people are interested in each other is not
difficult sometimes, even for so dull a man as I.
"You have known Mr. Harlson many years, I believe," she said, and added
smilingly: "What kind of a man is he?"
"A very bad man," I replied, gravely.
She turned to him in a charming, judicial way:
"If your friends so describe you, Mr. Harlson, what must your enemies
say? And what have you to say in your own defense? What you yourself
have owned to me in the past is recognition of the soundness of the
authority."
"I haven't a word to say. Of course, I had not expected this
unfriendly villain to be what he has proved himself, but what he says
is, no doubt, true. I'm going to reform, though. In fact, I've
already begun."
"When was the revolution inaugurated?"
He looked at her so earnestly that there came a faint flush to her
cheek. "Since my eyes were opened, and I saw the light," he answered.
She diverted the conversation by turning to me, and saying that, while
the information I had given her was no doubt valuable, and that she
should regulate her course accordingly, and advise all her friends to
do the same, yet she felt it her duty to reprimand me for telling the
truth so bluntly. She knew that I had done it for the best, but if
there were really any hope for this wicked man, if he had really
decided upon a new life, we ought to encourage him. Did I think him in
earnest?
I told her that it hurt me to say it, but that I had no great
confidence in Mr. Harlson's protestations. He was of the earth,
earthy. A friend, it was true, should bear a friend's infirmities, but
he should not ask other people to bear them, nor should he testify to
anything but the truth. Mr. Harlson might or might not be in earnest
in what he had declared, but, even if in earnest, there was the matter
of persistency. I doubted seriously his ability to overcome the habits
of a lifetime.
She was becoming really interested in the chaffing.
"What is the nature of Mr. Harlson's great iniquity?"
"There, Miss Cornish, I am justified in drawing the line in my reply.
I have conscientiously explained that he was, in a general way, a
villain of the deepest dye, but to make specifications would be
unfriendly, and I know you wouldn't have me that."
Harlson said that he was very much obliged for my toleration, or would
be until he got me alone, and Miss Cornish showed a proper spirit, and
so I left them. But I had no evidence that she believed what I had
said.
As we walked home together in the early morning, Harlson told me more
of the young lady. She was living with an aunt, he said, and was,
otherwise, alone in the world. She had but a little income, barely
enough to live on, but she had courage unlimited, and tact, and was not
insignificant as a social factor. She had the sturdiness of her
ancestry, in which the name of Jean ran.
"I like it," Harlson said; "it fits her--'Jean Cornish'--little brown
'Jean Cornish'--little leopardess, little, wise, good woman."
I told him that he was mixing his similes, and that in a broad,
comprehensive way he had become a fool.
"I tell you I'm in love with her already," he blurted out, "and
somehow, some day, I will have her, and wear her and care for her!"
"But, my dear boy, don't be insane. There is the problem we were
discussing last night. Have you a solution of it? And first catch
your hare. Have you caught your pretty hare yet? I'll admit it's
possible. Women are fools over such fellows as you when they should be
adhesive to good, plodding members of society, like the friend who is
now advising you, but Miss Cornish is not a fool, you see, and I don't
think you deserve her."
"For that matter, neither do I," he answered; "but I will deserve her
yet. I must do more of many things, and cease to do many things. I
believe I comprehend better now than I ever did the words in the
service, 'We have done those things and left undone,' and all that.
But you'll see a difference. I'll make her proud of me. That's the
right way to become clean, isn't it, old man?"
I said I thought it a wholesome and commendable resolution, on general
principles, and, of course, the idol would gradually disintegrate. All
idols were of clay. But it didn't matter about the idol, so long as
the effect was produced. He might count on me any time for good
advice. He only glared at me, and called me hard names, and we dropped
in at the club and finished our cigars, and separated.