The winter had passed agreeably and rapidly for Adelle. But London did
not please her because Miss Comstock insisted upon a rather rigorous
course of museums and churches and show places, which always fatigued
and bored Adelle. She was also taken to garden parties where she was
expected to talk, and that was the last thing Adelle liked doing.
Whatever expressive reaction to life she had could never be put into
words for the casual comer. She would stand helpless before the most
persistent man, seeking a means of escape, and as men are rarely
persistent or patient with a dumb girl she stood alone much of the time
in spite of her reputation for wealth, which Miss Comstock carefully
disseminated to prepare the way for her.
One morning while her maid was brushing her hair, an operation that
Adelle particularly liked and over which she would dawdle for hours, a
card was brought to her, which bore the name--"Mr. Ashly Crane"--and
underneath this simple and sufficient explanation--"The Washington Trust
Company." Adelle had almost forgotten Mr. Crane's existence. He had
become more a signature than a person to her. Nevertheless, the memory
of her girlish triumph the last time they had met caused her to hasten
her toilet and put in an appearance in the private salon she had at the
hotel in something less than half an hour. There she found the young
banker very spruce in his frock coat and silk hat, which he had
furnished himself with in America and assumed the day of his arrival on
English soil. He was taking a vacation, he promptly explained to Adelle,
in which, of course, he should do several pieces of important business.
But he gave the girl to understand that she was not on this business
list: he had looked her up purely as a pleasure. In fact, the trust
people had become somewhat uneasy over Miss Clark's frequent drafts,
which altogether exceeded the liberal sum that President West felt was
suitable for a young woman to spend, though well within her present
income, and suggested that Mr. Crane should find out what she was doing
and if she were likely to get into mischief. The young banker had had it
in mind to see Adelle in any case--she had left a sufficiently distinct
impression with him for that. There may have revived in his
subconsciousness that earlier dream of capturing for himself the
constantly expanding Clark estate, although as yet nothing had defined
itself positively in his active mind.
When at last the girl entered the little hotel salon where he had been
cooling his heels for the half-hour, he had a distinct quickening of
this latent purpose. Adelle Clark was not at this period, if she ever
was, what is usually called a pretty girl. She had grown a little, and
now gave the impression of being really tall, which was largely an
effect of her skillful dressmaker. Pale and slender and graceful,
exquisitely draped in a gown subtly made for her, with a profusion of
barbaric jewelry which from this time on she always affected, Adelle was
what is commonly called striking. She had the enviable quality of
attracting attention to herself, even on the jaded streets of Paris, as
suggesting something pleasurably different from the stream of
passers-by. The American man of affairs did not stop to analyze all
this. He was merely conscious that here was a woman whom no man need be
ashamed of, even if he married her for other reasons than her beauty.
And he set himself at once, not to catechize the bank's ward about her
expenditures, but to interest the girl in himself. They went to the
Savoy for luncheon, and the trust officer noted pleasurably the
attention they received as they made their way through the crowded
breakfast-room. And in spite of Adelle's monosyllabic habit of
conversation, they got on very well over their food, about which Adelle
had well-formulated ideas. He suggested taking a cab and attending the
cricket match, and so after luncheon they gayly set forth on the long
ride to Hurlingham in the stream of motors and cabs bound for the match.
Adelle smiled shyly at Mr. Crane's heavy sarcasm upon British ways, and
replied briefly to his questions about her winter in Paris. The
situation was a novel one to her, and she enjoyed it. The one thing her
money had thus far not done for her was to bring her men--she had,
indeed, done nothing herself to attract them. But now for five hours she
had the constant attention of a good-looking, well-dressed, mature man.
To be sure Mr. Ashly Crane was much older than she. He gave her the
curious sensation of being in some way a relative. Was the Washington
Trust Company not the nearest thing to a relative that she had? And Mr.
Ashly Crane was the personal symbol to her of the trust company--its
voice and lungs and clothes. So she felt a faint emotion over the
incident. As they were returning from the cricket field in the English
twilight, with the scurry of moving vehicles all about them, Mr. Crane
ventured on more personal topics than he had hitherto broached. He felt
that by this time they must be quite good friends. So he began,--
Did she like living in Europe?
Yes, she found it very pleasant and Miss Comstock was the nicest teacher
she had ever had--really not like a teacher at all; and she liked Miss
Baxter and the metal-work. (This was a long and complicated statement
for Adelle.)
She must show him some of her work. Was that chain (taking it familiarly
in his hands to look at it) her own handiwork?
Oh, no; that was a Lalique ... the chief artist in this _genre_ in
Paris. (The banker mentally accounted for some of the recent drafts.)
Didn't he think it pretty?--such an unusual arrangement of the stones!
He should not call it exactly pretty--odd rather;--but it was very
becoming to her.... He should like to see some of her own work, etc.
Oh, she should never dare to show him anything she had done. She was
nothing but a beginner, etc., etc.
Later on, as they entered the dark precincts of the city, another step
nearer the personal was taken.
She would want to spend another year in Europe probably?
Oh, yes, they had the loveliest plans. Miss Comstock was going to take
her and Eveline Glynn on a visit to some friends who had an estate in
Poland, in the mountains, a real castle, etc. (Mental note by the
banker--"Must look up this Comstock woman--seems to have a good deal of
influence upon the girl.") And then they were all going to Italy again
in the spring and perhaps Greece, though everybody said that was too
hard on account of the poor hotels. And she did want to go up the Nile
and see the Sphynx and all the rest of it, etc., etc. (Pause).
Had she any idea what she would like to do afterwards, where she wanted
to live?
When?
Why, after she had finished her education.
Oh, she wanted to go on making pretty things--she should have a studio
of her own, of course, like Miss Baxter.
"Where?"
"Why in Paris,--perhaps New York," Adelle replied vaguely,
indifferently.
That gave Mr. Crane an opportunity for an improving homily on the folly
of expatriation, the beauty of living in one's own country among one's
own people, and so forth, which brought them to the door of Adelle's
hotel. Mr. Crane came in and met Miss Comstock and the girls she had
with her. Then he disappeared and returned later in full dress and took
the party to the Carlton for dinner and then to a light opera. The girls
were entranced with Mr. Crane, especially the two Californians, and
redoubled their envy of the fortunate Adelle in having this handsome
substitute for a parent. They called him her "beau," by which
designation Mr. Ashly Crane was henceforth known among Pussy Comstock's
girls during their sojourn in London.
He had not made quite the same favorable impression upon Miss Comstock,
who was acquainted with all sorts and conditions of men. The two
recognized immediately an antagonism of interests, and spent this first
evening of their acquaintance in reconnoitering each other's position
with Adelle. "Little bounder," Miss Comstock pronounced with the quick
perception of a woman; "he's after the girl's money." While the man said
to himself, with the more ponderous indirectness of the male,--"That
woman is not quite the influence that an unformed girl should have about
her. She's working the girl, too, for motors and things." And yet both
smiled and joked companionably across the shoulders of the unconscious
Adelle.
As the trust officer returned to his hotel in his hansom, he jingled a
few stray coins in his pocket, the remains of twenty pounds in gold that
the day had cost him. A long education in finance, however, had taught
him to be indifferent to these petty matters of preliminary expense.
Nevertheless, before retiring he entered up the sum to the Clark estate
expense account. Poor Adelle, dreaming of her "beau"! Her first real
spree with a man was charged to her own purse.