MR. FORBES read his wife’s second letter with dry eyes. His
face, during the past weeks, had been habitually hard and severe. He
looked older. It was a long letter. It was fragrant with love and
admitted remorse; but it reasserted that unless he made the required
settlement three weeks from receipt she would hand over to the Duke’s
attorneys all she possessed.
Mr. Forbes tore the letter into strips and threw them on the fire.
His face had flushed as he read; and as he lay back in his chair, it
relaxed somewhat.
“If she were here would I yield?” he thought. “I am thankful that she
is not. Or am I? I don’t know. What fools we mortals be--in the hands
of a woman. Five millions seem a small price to have her back. But
to pay them, unfortunately, means the free gift of my self-respect.
What is to come? What is to come? I had believed at times that this
woman read my very soul and touched it. Her intuitions, her sympathy,
her subtle comprehension of the highest wants of a man’s nature and
reverence for them amounted to something like genius. Indeed, she had a
genius for loving--a most uncommon gift. Or so it seemed to me. But I
think that few men would appreciate that they were idealising a woman
like Virginia Forbes. And now? I am to take back the beautiful woman,
the companionable mind, I suppose--nothing more. But it is something
to have been a fool for twenty-two years. I cannot say that I have any
regrets. And possibly it was my own fault that I could not make her
love me better.”
He looked up at the picture. “Several times,” he thought, “I have felt
like mounting a chair and kissing it. And if I did, I should feel as if
I were kissing the lips of a corpse.”
“Ned! Are you there?”
Mr. Forbes rose instantly. The door had opened, and a tall woman, not
unlike Augusta, but with something more of mellowness, had entered.
“I am glad to see you, Harriet,” he said. “What brings you at this
hour? Have you come to help me through my solitary dinner?”
“I will stay to dinner, certainly.” Mrs. Van Rhuys took the chair he
offered, and looked at him keenly. “I have just received a letter
from Augusta,” she said. “Do withdraw your opposition, Ned. Yield
gracefully, before the world knows what it is beginning to suspect. And
a man can never hold out against his womankind. He might just as well
give in at once and save wrinkles.”
“What is your personal opinion of the Duke of Bosworth?” asked Mr.
Forbes curtly.
“Well, I certainly should have chosen a finer sample of the English
aristocracy for Augusta, but I cannot sympathise with your violent
antipathy to him. His manners are remarkably good for an Englishman,
and it would be one of the most notable marriages in American history.”
“You women are all alike,” said Mr. Forbes contemptuously. “Would you
give your daughter to this man?”
“Assuredly. I am positive that when the little Duke settles down he
will be all that could be desired. He has something to live for now.
Poor thing! He has been hampered with debts ever since he came of age.
The old Duke was a sad profligate, but a very charming man. What it
is I do not pretend to define, and I say it without any snobbishness,
for I am devoted to New York; but there is something about the English
aristocracy----”
“Oh!”--Mr. Forbes rattled the shovel among the coals--“Do, please,
spare me. You’re all peer-bewitched, every one of you. Don’t let us
discuss the subject any farther. It is loathsome to me, and I am
ashamed of my womankind.”
“Are you determined to let Virginia sell her houses and jewels, Ned? It
will break her heart.”
“She knew what she was doing when she struck the bargain. It was an
entirely voluntary act on her part. I see no reason why she should not
stand the consequences. Shall we go in to dinner?”