When Magdaléna drew the dagger out of her hair that night, she laughed a
little and tossed it into her handkerchief box. She had seen men carried
off their feet for the first time, not caring whether the world laughed
or not. She had also noted the exact order of homage that she was to
expect from men. Helena infatuated. The other girls inspired admiration
in varying measure. Respect for her father's millions was her portion.
She had watched and compared all the evening. It would have distressed
and appalled her had she made her début last winter. As it was, it
mattered little.
Occasionally there is a lively winter in San Francisco. This promised to
be almost brilliant. There were six balls in the next two weeks. At each
Helena's triumphs were reiterated. The men waited in a solid body
between the front door and the staircase, and she had promised, divided,
and subdivided every dance before she had set foot on the lowest step.
It was almost impossible to begin a party until her arrival. Kettledrums
had been inaugurated the previous winter, and hardly a man been got to
them. Now the men would have begged for invitations. They even began to
attend church; and Helena's "evening" was so crowded that she was
obliged to ask five or six of her girl friends to help her. Alan Rush,
Eugene Fort, Carter Howard, a Southerner of charming manners, infinite
tact, and little conversation, and "Dolly" Webster, a fledgeling of
enormous length and well-proportioned brain, were her shadows, her
serfs, her determined, trembling adorers. They barely hated one another,
so devoured were they by the sovereign passion; and as they were treated
with exasperating similitude, there was nothing to set them at one
another's throats.
Helena had all the gifts and arts of the supreme coquette. She allured
and mocked, appealed and commanded; adapted herself with the suppleness
of bronze to mould, with enchanting flashes of egotism; discarded all
perception of man's existence in the abstract, when she had surrendered
her attention to one, to jerk him out of his heaven by ordering him to
go and send her his rival; possessed a quickness of intuition which
finished a man's sentences with her eyes, an exquisite sympathy which
made a man feel that here at last he was understood (as he would wish
himself understood, rather than as he understood himself); an audacity
which never failed to surprise, and never shocked; a fund of talk which
never wore itself into platitudes, and a willing ear; and an absolute
confidence in herself and her destiny. In addition she had great beauty,
the high light spirits of her mercurial temperament, a charming and
equable manner (when not engaged in judiciously tormenting her slaves),
and a shrewd brain. What wonder that her sovereignty was something for
the men who worshipped her to remember when they too were old beaux, and
that their present condition was abject? The wonder was that the women
did not hate her; but so impulsive and unaffected a creature disarms her
own sex, particularly when her gowns are faultless, and she is not
lifeless in their company, to scintillate the moment a man enters the
room.
And they forbore to criticise the dictates of her royal fancy. It is
true that she deferred to no one's opinion, but she escaped criticism
nevertheless. If she capriciously refused to dance at a party, but sat
the night through with one man, not recognising the existence of her
lowering train, people merely smiled and shrugged their shoulders,
saving their scowls for those who were not the fashion. Sometimes these
flirtations took place in the open ball-room, sometimes in the
conservatory; it was all one to Helena, whose powers of concentration
amounted to genius. At one of the Presidio hops she spent the
evening--it was moonlight--in a boat on the bay with an officer who was
as accomplished a flirt as herself. The appearance of Rush, Fort,
Howard, and Webster upon this occasion was pitiable. On her evening, if
she tired of her admirers before they could reasonably be expected to
leave, she walked out of the room without excuse and went to bed. She
not only ran to fires when the humour seized her, but she commanded her
quartette to rush every time the alarm sounded, that they might be at
her beck in the event of officious policemen. As fires are frequent in
San Francisco, these enamoured young men were profoundly thankful when
they occurred at such times as they happened to be in their tyrant's
presence: they were willing to bundle into their clothes at two in the
morning, or to leave their duties at midday, were they sure of meeting
her; but as she was as capricious about fires as about everything else,
their chances were as one in ten. They hinted once that she might advise
them of her pleasure by telephone, but were peremptorily snubbed. Helena
never made concessions.
It was at the end of the second month that her father imported a coach
from New York. She had driven since her baby days, and could handle four
horses as scientifically as one. Thereafter, one of the sights of Golden
Gate Park on fine afternoons was Helena on the box of the huge black and
yellow structure, tooling a party of her delighted friends, her father
beside her, one of her admirers crouched at her indifferent shoulder. It
was the only gentleman's coach in California, for in the Eighties the
youth of the city had not turned their wits and prowess to sport. Few of
them could drive with either grace or assurance, and Helena's
accomplishment was the more renowned. Occasionally Colonel Belmont was
allowed to drive, a favour which he enjoyed with all the keenness of his
dashing youth.
"I told you how it would be," said Ila to Rose. "She is not only belle,
but leader. That's the real reason Caro's gone to New York. We are
nowhere. I'd turn eccentric, regularly shock people, if I had the good
luck to be the fashion. But I've got to marry well. When I have--you'll
see."
"We can't all be raving belles," said Rose. "If Helena were so much as
doubled, the men would be gibbering idiots. I don't care, so long as I
have a good time; and I hold my own. So do you. As for Tiny, she may not
be mobbed, but she has one man in love with her after another. As soon
as poor Charley Rollins got his congé, Bob Payne took the vacant seat,
and I see a third climbing over the horizon with business in his eye.
There can be only one sun, but we're all stars of the first magnitude."
"But we'd each like to be the sun, all the same."
V
Magdaléna, although much interested in Helena's performances, felt at
times as if dream-walking, half expecting to awaken at the foot of her
little altar. In the days when she had prayed, full of faith, for beauty
and its triumphs, although ignorance had handled the brush of her
imagination, yet the vigorous outline sketch had closely resembled all
that was now the portion of her friend. She pondered on the fancy she
had had as a child that Helena realised all her own little ambitions.
She certainly had realised all her larger, but one. She dreaded to ask
Helena if she had ever cared to write, fearing to surprise a confession
to the authorship of the novel of the day. This, she concluded, after
due reflection, was exaggeration; for if Helena had written, even
without publication, she certainly would have talked about it, reticence
being no vice of hers. But the suggestion might prick a latent talent
into action. This was just the one thing Magdaléna could not endure, and
she decided to let the talent sleep. The rest mattered little, aside
from the sense of failure which the vicarious accomplishment of ambition
must always induce; for she had her advantage of Helena, the greatest
one woman can have of another. She was happy, but Helena was only
satisfied for the moment; so restless and passionate a heart would not
long remain content with the husks. It was true that Trennahan had not
gone mad over herself as other men over Helena; but what of that? It was
a question of years alone.
It was now three months since he had left California. He had found his
mother's affairs in a serious condition, but had managed to gather up
the threads, and the knot would be tied before long. There was no doubt
about his desire to return. In fact, as the time waned, his ardour
waxed. Sometimes Magdaléna was driven to wonder if his yearning for
California or herself were the greater; but on the whole she was
satisfied, for she liked to accept his fancy that the two were
indissoluble. He wrote delightful letters, witty and graceful, full of
interesting gossip, and with many personal and tender pages. But the
novelty of his absence had worn off some time since, and she longed
impatiently for his return. She was caught in the whirl of social
activity, and was the restless Helena's constant companion;
nevertheless, there were lonely hours, when the future with its
imperious demands routed the past.
The engagement was still a profound secret; Magdaléna had told Helena at
once, but it was unguessed by anyone else. Mrs. Yorba had insisted that
her daughter should have one brilliant girl season. The truth was that
she was delighted at Don Roberto's sudden interest in the world of
fashion, and was determined to make the most of it. He developed,
indeed, into an untiring seeker after the innocent amusements of his
wife's exclusive kingdom, and had given a fashionable tailor permission
to bring his wardrobe down to date; he had hitherto worn clothes of the
same cut for twenty years. The girls always gave him a square dance;
during the round dances he stood against the wall with Mr. Polk and
Colonel Belmont, and fairly beamed with good-will. The Yorbas seldom
spent an evening at home unless their own doors were open, and Don
Roberto consented to two parties and several large dinners. Mrs. Yorba
shuddered sometimes at the weakening of her inborn and long-nurtured
economical faculty, but thoroughly enjoyed herself--forming an important
item of the dado--and hoped that her husband's enthusiasm would endure.