Fortunately Adelle was not of an imaginative habit of mind. She rarely
envisaged with keenness anything of the future, and thus escaped many of
the perplexities and annoyances of life, with some of its pleasures.
Hers was always a single road,--from desire to the gratification of
desire,--as it had been with Archie. Thus far her nature had developed
few disturbing impulses, which accounts for the simple, not to say dull,
character of her story up to the present. Even the supreme desire of
woman's heart had come to her in a commonplace way and had been
fulfilled precipitately, as the desires of the untutored usually are,
but uncomplexly. As she fondly contemplated her husband the next
morning, she did not realize that in one swift day she had accomplished
the main drama of her existence and henceforth must be content with the
humdrum course of life. Archie was scarcely more concerned with mental
complexities.
"Won't Pussy Comstock be jarred!" was about the depth of his reaction to
the momentous step they had taken.
Adelle smiled a wary smile in answer: she distinctly enjoyed having both
outwitted Pussy and escaped the bother of opposition to her desires and
the shafts of ridicule. She stroked her master's bright red hair and
kissed him again. They felt very well content with themselves this
morning. Archie certainly ought to have congratulated himself. He had a
young wife, who loved him to distraction and who was extremely
well-to-do, and, moreover, had no inconvenient relatives to "cut up
ugly" over her imprudent step. There was only a trust company to reckon
with, and what can a trust company do when it feels fussed and
aggrieved?...
After a leisurely breakfast and more love-making under the plane trees
in the little garden behind the inn, the pair had to reckon with fact.
They must get some money at once: they had only enough loose silver in
their two purses to pay the modest charges at the _cabaret_ and buy a
litre or two of _petrol_ to get them to Paris. Yet they dallied on in
the way of young love and drove up to the bank just before it closed.
When Adelle in her nonchalant manner asked the young man at the window
to give her five thousand francs in notes, she received a great
shock--the worst shock of her life. The young cashier, who had paid out
to her through the little brass _guichet_ many tens of thousands of
pretty white notes and gold-pieces, informed her that he could not give
her any money. It developed, under a storm of exclamation and protest,
that only that noon the bankers had received a cablegram from their
correspondent in America curtly directing them not to cash further
drafts drawn by Miss Clark against the Washington Trust Company. The
magic lamp had gone out most inopportunely! In vain Adelle expostulated,
declared there was a mistake, even introduced to the cashier "my
husband," who looked uncomfortable, but tried to assume authority and
demanded reasons for the bank's treatment of his wife. All the reason
lay in that brief cablegram. The couple at last turned dejectedly into
the street and again got into Adelle's runabout, which obviously was in
need of more _petrol_.
"It's Pussy," Adelle pronounced with divination.
"If it is, she's got in her fine work fast."
The two might reflect sadly that if they had been prudent, they would
not have spent all that morning in love-making, having a lifetime for
that, but would have taken prompt measures to secure funds as soon as
the bank opened. Of course, it had never occurred to either of them that
trouble would fall in just this way.
And now what was to be done? Adelle felt that they should drive at once
to the Villa Ponitowski, secure her clothes and jewelry, and make Pussy,
who she had no doubt was there, bank them until the embargo on her
drafts was raised. But neither had what Archie called "the nerve" to do
this. So they went for refuge to the only place they knew, Miss Baxter's
studio.
There they found Miss Comstock. She had come to Paris, of course, by the
first train the day before, arriving at the studio shortly after they
had left in search of food. She had vibrated between the studio and the
Neuilly villa ever since, sure that when Adelle was short of funds she
would go home to roost. And Pussy had taken immediate measures to cut
off funds by cabling to the trust company the exact facts of Adelle's
disappearance in company with the Californian. She received them
amiably.
"My dear Adelle," she began, "you should not be so eccentric. You gave
us all a shock!... I was coming up to Paris and would have been glad to
motor up with you and--er--Mr. Davis, I believe." There was a deadly
pause while she scrutinized the guilty couple through her glasses, as if
she were determining the exact extent of the mischief already done. She
looked disgustedly over the dusty studio and observed,--"It's not a
sweet place for--er--love-making is it? Why didn't you go to the Villa,
my dear, and let Marie look after you?"
Archie laughed inanely. Adelle felt that she could not stand more of
this feline fooling. She said bluntly,--
"We're married."
"Married! So soon! How--er--nice!" Pussy commented.
"Yes, we're married, Miss Comstock," Archie added lamely, mopping his
brow.
"You don't mean that?" Miss Comstock said quickly, her tone changing.
Adelle nodded.
"Then it is really a serious matter."
Adelle's blood froze.
"I can't believe you have been such a fool," she said to the girl. "Or
you such a scamp," she turned upon the frightened youth.
It seemed to Adelle that Pussy would have condoned anything or
everything except that fatal visit to the consulate. Pussy's morals, she
knew, were of the strictly serviceable sort, and she was gladder than
ever that she had prodded Archie into having the ceremony performed at
once. Now Pussy could do nothing but scold.
But Miss Comstock accepted only the inevitable, and she was not yet
convinced that the visit to the consulate and the ceremony there
constituted an inevitable marriage. She pleaded with Adelle to leave her
so-called husband and come back with her to the Neuilly villa "until the
matter could be straightened out, and an announcement of the marriage
made to the world," as she was wily enough to put it. But Adelle was
adamant. Archie, to whom the woman next appealed, was more yielding. She
succeeded in frightening him, talking about the dangers of French laws
that had to do with minors. Of course they had lied about Adelle's age,
and there were all sorts of complications besides the scandal, which was
perfectly needless in any case. And Miss Comstock assured them that the
trust company would probably take every step to annul the marriage.
There was a very hard road ahead of them if they persisted in their
idiotic course. Finally she even suggested that Archie might return to
the Villa with them until his status could be determined. Adelle,
however, feared Pussy's cleverness and would not stir from the studio.
All through the protracted interview in this crisis, when her heart's
desire was threatened, Adelle displayed surprising courage and
steadfastness of purpose. Her courage naturally was an egotistic
courage: it amounted in sum to this--nobody should take away her toy
from her this time. And finally Miss Comstock retired from the scene
defeated and somewhat venomous.
"I hope, my dear," she sent as a parting shot, "that Mr. Davis can give
you the comforts you are used to. I think it may be extremely difficult
for you to use your own money for the present."
Adelle seemed quite indifferent to the comforts she had been used to,
although she well knew that there was not a five-franc piece in the
studio, when Miss Comstock departed to cable the trust company the
results of her interview. The trust company, it may be said in passing,
was much upset over the news, and after consultation decided to send the
third vice-president across the ocean to examine into the matter, Mr.
Ashly Crane having declined to undertake the delicate mission. Meantime
they did not rescind their instructions to their Paris correspondent,
and so for some days to come the young people were reduced to absurd
straits for the want of money.
* * * * *
After Pussy had gone, with her threat, Adelle burst into tears and
accused Archie of not supporting her in this battle. Was she not giving
up everything for him?--etc. Archie had his first lesson in being the
husband of an heiress, even a much-petted husband. It was finally
learned, and kisses were exchanged. Then they thought to appease their
hunger, which by this time was acute, and debated how this was to be
done. Adelle was confident that on the morrow she could sell what
jewelry she had with her for enough to support them pleasantly until she
could make it right with the trust company and get hold of her lamp
again. For this evening she borrowed five francs from the suspicious and
unwilling concierge, and with the money Archie went forth to the corner
and brought back a dubious mess of cold food and a bottle of poor wine,
which they consumed in the dark studio, then went to sleep upon the
divan in each other's arms like a couple of romance. Rather late in the
day on the morrow Adelle sallied out in a cab to the Rue de la Paix
confident that she would return with much gold. She found naturally that
her own handiwork was unsalable at any price, and that the fashionable
shops where she had dealt prodigally would not advance her a cent even
upon their own wares. Pussy, she realized, had shut off also this avenue
to ease! They were obliged to induce the concierge's wife to pledge at
the pawnshop the more marketable things Adelle had with her. With the
few francs thus derived they managed to picnic in the studio for the
next week. They became acquainted with busses and the _batteau mouche_
and other lowly forms of transportation and amusement, but spent most of
their time in the studio, love-making, of which Adelle did not weary.
Archie was used to the devices of a short purse and Adelle thought it
all a great lark for love's sake. Besides, it must end soon, and the
high noon of prosperity return with the possession of her precious lamp.
To hasten that event she wrote a rather peremptory note to the
Washington Trust Company, notifying them of her change of name and
complaining of the mistake they had made in cutting off her drafts. It
would take a fortnight at the most to get a reply, and then all would be
right. Archie did not feel so confident.