dining in their rooms? Perish the possibility! And he looked in vain
for the count. A quarter-past nine. Mr. Robert's anxiety was becoming
almost unendurable. Nine-thirty. He was about to surrender in despair.
His partridge lay smoking on his plate, and he was on the point of
demolishing it, when, behold! they came. The colonel entered first,
then his daughter, her hand--on--the--arm--of--the--count! Warburton
never fully described to me his feelings at that moment; but, knowing
him as I do, I can put together a very, respectable picture of the
chagrin and consternation that sat on his countenance.
"To think of being nearly six days aboard," Mr. Robert once bawled at
me, wrathfully, "and not to know that that Russian chap knew her!" It
_was_ almost incredible that such a thing should happen.
The three sat down at a table seven times removed from Warburton's. He
could see only an adorable profile and the colonel's handsome but
care-worn face. The count sat with his back turned. In that black
evening gown she was simply beyond the power of adjectives. What
shoulders, what an incomparable throat! Mr. Robert's bird grew cold;
the bouquet from his glass fainted and died away. How her face lighted
when she laughed, and she laughed frequently! What a delicious curve
ran from her lips to her young bosom! But never once did she look in
his direction. Who invented mirrors, the Egyptians? I can not say.
There were mirrors in the room, but Mr. Robert did not realize it. He
has since confessed to me that he hadn't the slightest idea how much
his bird and bottle cost. Of such is love's young dream! (Do I worry
you with all these repetitious details? I am sorry.)
At ten o'clock Miss Annesley rose, and the count escorted her to the
elevator, returning almost immediately. He and the colonel drew their
heads together. From time to time the count shrugged, or the colonel
shook his head. Again and again the Russian dipped the end of his cigar
into his coffee-cup, which he frequently replenished.
But for Mr. Robert the gold had turned to gilt, the gorgeous to the
gaudy. She was gone. The imagination moves as swiftly as light, leaping
from one castle in air to another, and still another. Mr. Robert was
the architect of some fine ones, I may safely assure you. And he didn't
mind in the least that they tumbled down as rapidly as they builded:
only, the incentive was gone. What the colonel had to say to the count,
or the count to the colonel, was of no interest to him; so he made an
orderly retreat.
I am not so old as not to appreciate his sleeplessness that night. Some
beds are hard, even when made of the softest down.
In the morning he telephoned to the Holland House. The Annesleys, he
was informed, had departed for parts unknown. The count had left
directions to forward any possible mail to the Russian Embassy,
Washington. Sighs in the _doloroso_; the morning papers and numerous
cigars; a whisky and soda; a game of indifferent billiards with an
affable stranger; another whisky and soda; and a gradual reclamation of
Mr. Robert's interest in worldly affairs.
She was gone.
IV
A FAMILY REUNION
Warburton had not been in the city of Washington within twelve years.
In the past his furloughs had been spent at his brother's country home
in Larchmont, out of New York City. Thus, when he left the train at the
Baltimore and Potomac station, he hadn't the slightest idea where Scott
Circle was. He looked around in vain for the smart cab of the northern
metropolis. All he saw was a line of omnibuses and a few ramshackle
vehicles that twenty years back might very well have passed for
victorias. A grizzled old negro, in command of one of these sea-going
conveyances, caught Warburton's eye and hailed jovially. Our hero (as
the good novelists of the past generation would say, taking their
readers into their innermost confidences) handed him his traveling case
and stepped in.
"Whar to, suh?" asked the commodore.
"Scott Circle, and don't pommel that old nag's bones in trying to get
there. I've plenty of time."
"I reckon I won't pommel him, suh. Skt! skt!" And the vehicle rattled
out into broad Pennsylvania Avenue, but for the confusion and absurdity
of its architectural structures, the handsomest thoroughfare in
America. (Some day I am going to carry a bill into Congress and read
it, and become famous as having been the means of making Pennsylvania
Avenue the handsomest highway in the world.)
Warburton leaned back luxuriously against the faded horse-hair cushion
and lighted a cigar, which he smoked with relish, having had a hearty
breakfast on the train. It was not quite nine o'clock, and a warm
October haze lay on the peaceful city. Here were people who did not
rush madly about in the pursuit of riches. Rather they proceeded along
soberly, even leisurely, as if they knew what the day's work was and
the rewards attendant, and were content. Trucks, those formidable
engines of commerce, neither rumbled nor thundered along the pavements,
nor congested the thoroughfares. Nobody hurried into the shops, nobody
hurried out. There were no scampering, yelling newsboys. Instead, along
the curbs of the market, sat barelegged negro boys, some of them
selling papers to those who wanted them, and some sandwiched in between
baskets of popcorn and peanuts. There was a marked scarcity of the
progressive, intrusive white boy. Old negro mammies passed to and fro
with the day's provisions.
Glancing over his shoulder, Warburton saw the Capitol, shining in the
sun like some enchanted palace out of Wonderland. He touched his cap,
conscious of a thrill in his spine. And there, far to his left, loomed
the Washington monument, glittering like a shaft of opals. Some
orderlies dashed by on handsome bays. How splendid they looked, with
their blue trousers and broad yellow stripes! This was before the Army
adopted the comfortable but shabby brown duck. How he longed to throw a
leg over the back of a good horse and gallop away into the great green
country beyond!
In every extraordinary looking gentleman he saw some famed senator or
congressman or diplomat. He was almost positive that he saw the
secretary of war drive by in a neat brougham. The only things which
moved with the hustling spirit of the times were the cables, and
doubtless these would have gone slower but for the invisible and
immutable power which propelled them. On arriving in New York, one's
first thought is of riches; in Washington, of glory. What a difference
between this capital and those he had seen abroad! There was no
militarism here, no conscription, no governmental oppression, no signs
of discontent, no officers treading on the rights and the toes of
civilians.
But now he was passing the huge and dingy magic Treasury Building,
round past the Executive Mansion with its spotless white stone, its
stately portico and its plush lawns.
"Go slow, uncle; I haven't seen this place since I was a boy."
"Yes, suh. How d' y' like it? Wouldn' y' like t' live in dat house,
suh?"--the commodore grinned.
"One can't stay there long enough to please me, uncle. It takes four
years to get used to it; and then, when you begin to like it, you have
to pack up and clear out."
"It's de way dey goes, suh. We go eroun' Lafayette, er do yuh want t'
see de Wa' Depa'tment, suh?"
"Never mind now, uncle; Scott Circle."
"Scott Circle she am, suh."
The old ark wheeled round Lafayette Square and finally rolled into
Sixteenth Street. When at length it came to a stand in front of a
beautiful house, Warburton evinced his surprise openly. He knew that
his brother's wife had plenty of money, but not such a plenty as to
afford a house like this.
"Are you sure, uncle, that this is the place?"
"Dere's de Circle, suh, an' yuh can see de numbuh fo' y'se'f, suh."
"How much do I owe you?"
"I reckon 'bout fifty cents 'll make it, suh."
Warburton gave him a dollar, marveling at the difference between the
cab hire here and in New York. He grasped his case and leaped up the
steps two at a bound, and pressed the bell A prim little maid answered
the call.
"Does Mr. John Warburton live here?" he asked breathlessly.
"Yes, sir."
"Fortunate John!" he cried, pushing past the maid and standing in the
hall of his brother's household, unheralded and unannounced. "Jack!" he
bawled.
The maid eyed the handsome intruder, her face expressing the utmost
astonishment. She touched his arm.
"Sir!--" she began.
"It's all right, my dear," he interrupted.
She stepped back, wondering whether to scream or run.
"Hi, Jack! I say, you old henpecked, where are you?"
The dining-room door slid back and a tall, studious-looking gentleman,
rather plain than otherwise, stood on the threshold.
"Jane, what is all this--Why, Bob, you scalawag!"--and in a moment they
were pumping hands at a great rate. The little maid leaned weakly
against the balustrade.
"Kit, Kit! I say, Kit, come and see who's here!" cried John.
An extraordinarily pretty little woman, whose pallor any woman would
have understood, but no man on earth, and who was dressed in a charming
pink negligee morning-gown, hurried into the hall.
"Why, it's Bob!" She flung her arms around the prodigal and kissed him
heartily, held him away at arm's length, and hugged and kissed him
again. I'm not sure that Mr. Robert didn't like it.
Suddenly there was a swish of starched skirts on the stairs, and the
most beautiful woman in all the world (and I am always ready to back
this statement with abundant proofs!) rushed down and literally threw
herself into Mr. Robert's eager, outstretched arms.
"Nancy!"
"Bob! Bob! you wicked boy! You almost break our hearts. Not a line in
two months!--How could you!--You might have been dead and we not know
it!"--and she cried on his shoulder.
"Come now, Nancy; nonsense! You'll start the color running out of this
tie of mine!" But for all his jesting tone, Mr. Robert felt an
embarrassing lump wriggle up and down in his throat.
"Had your breakfast?" asked the humane and practical brother.
"Yep. But I shouldn't mind another cup of coffee."
And thereupon he was hustled into the dining-room and pushed into the
best chair. How the clear women fussed over him, pressed this upon him
and that; fondled and caressed him, just as if the beggar was worth all
this trouble and love and affection!
"Hang it, girls, it's worth being an outlaw to come to this," he cried.
He reached over and patted Nancy on the cheek, and pressed the young
wife's hand, and smiled pleasantly at his brother. "Jack, you lucky
pup, you!"
"Two years," murmured Nancy; "and we haven't had a glimpse of you in
two long years."
"Only in photograph," said the homeless one, putting three lumps of
sugar into his coffee because he was so happy he didn't know what he
was about.
"And you have turned twenty-eight," said Kit, counting on her fingers.
"That makes you twenty-four, Nan," Jack laughed.
"And much I care!" replied Nancy, shaking her head defiantly. I've a
sneaking idea that she was thinking of me when she made this
declaration. For if _I_ didn't care, why should she?
"A handsome, stunning girl like you, Nan, ought to be getting married,"
observed the prodigal. "What's the matter with all these dukes and
lords and princes, anyhow?"
An embarrassed smile ran around the table, but Mr. Robert missed it by
some several inches.
Jack threw a cigar across the table. "Now," said he, "where the deuce
did you come from?"
"Indirectly from Arizona, which is a synonym, once removed, for war."
Jack looked at his plate and laughed; but Mrs. Jack wanted to know what
Bob meant by that.
"It's a word used instead of war, as applied by the late General
Sherman," Jack replied. "And I am surprised that a brother-in-law of
yours should so far forget himself as to hint it, even."
Knowing that she could put him through the inquisition later, she asked
my hero how his leg was.
"It aches a little when it rains; that's about all."
"And you never let us know anything about it till the thing was all
over," was Nancy's reproach.
"What's the use of scaring you women?" Robert demanded. "You would have
had hysterics and all that."
"We heard of it quick enough through the newspapers," said Jack. "Come,
give us your own version of the rumpus."
"Well, the truth is,"--and the prodigal told them his tale.
"Why, you are a hero!" cried Mrs. Jack, clasping her hands.
"Hero nothing," sniffed the elder brother. "He was probably star-gazing
or he wouldn't have poked his nose into an ambush."
"Right you are, brother John," Robert acknowledged, laughing.
"And how handsome he has grown, Nancy," Mrs. Jack added, with an
oblique glance at her husband.
"He does look 'distangy'," that individual admitted. A handsome face
always went through John's cuirass. It was all nonsense, for his wife
could not have adored him more openly had he been the twin to Adonis.
But, there you are; a man always wants something he can not have. John
wasn't satisfied to be one of the most brilliant young men in
Washington; he also wanted to be classed among the handsomest.
"By the way, Jack," said my hero, lighting the cigar and blowing the
first puff toward the ceiling, his face admirably set with nonchalance,
"do you know of a family named Annesley--Colonel Annesley?" I knew it
would take only a certain length of time for this question to arrive.
"Colonel Annesley? Why, yes. He was in the War Department until a year
or so ago. A fine strategist; knows every in and out of the coast
defenses, and is something of an inventor; lots of money, too. Tall,
handsome old fellow?"
"That's the man. A war volunteer?"
"No, a regular. Crippled his gun-fingers in some petty Indian war, and
was transferred to the Department. He was a widower, if my recollection
of him is correct; and had a lovely daughter."
"Ah!" There was great satisfaction evident in this syllable. "Do you
know where the colonel is now?"
"Not the faintest idea. He lived somewhere in Virginia. But he's been
on the travel for several years."
Robert stirred his coffee and took a spoonful--and dropped the spoon.
"Pah! I must have put in a quart of sugar. Can you spare me another
cup?"
"Annesley?" Nancy's face brightened. "Colonel Annesley? Why, I know
Betty Annesley. She was my room-mate at Smith one year. She was in my
graduating class. I'll show you her picture later. She was the dearest
girl! How she loved horses! But why are you so interested?"--slyly.
"I ran across them coming home."
"Then you met Betty! Isn't she just the loveliest girl you ever saw?"
"I'm for her, one and indivisible. But hang my luck, I never came
within a mile of an introduction."
"What? You, and on shipboard where she couldn't get away?" John threw
up his hands as a sign that this information had overcome him.
"Even the captain shied when I approached him," said Robert, gloomily.
"I begin to see," said the brother.
"See what?"
"Have a match; your cigar has gone out."
Robert relighted his cigar and puffed like a threshing-machine engine.
John leaned toward Nancy. "Shall I tell him, Nan?"
Nancy blushed. "I suppose he'll have to know sooner or later."
"Know what?" asked the third person singular
"Your charming sister is about to bring you a brother-in-law."
"What?" You could have heard this across the street.
"Yes, Bobby dear. And don't look so hurt. You don't want me to become
an old maid, do you?"
"When did it happen?"--helplessly. How the thought of his sister's
marrying horrifies a brother! I believe I can tell you why. Every
brother knows that no man is good enough for a good woman. "When did it
happen?" Mr. Robert repeated, with a look at his brother, which said
that _he_ should be held responsible.
"Last week."
Robert took in a long breath, as one does who expects to receive a blow
of some sort which can not be warded off, and asked: "Who is it?" Nancy
married? What was the world coming to, anyhow?
"Charlie Henderson,"--timidly.
Then Robert, who had been expecting nothing less than an English duke,
let loose the flaming ions of his righteous wrath.
"Chuck Henderson?--that duffer?" (Oh, Mr. Robert, Mr. Robert; and after
all I've done for you!)
"He's not a duffer!" remonstrated Nancy, with a flare in her mild eyes.
(How I wish I might have seen her as she defended me!) "He's the
dearest fellow in the world, and I love him with all my heart!" (How do
you like that, Mr. Robert? Bravo, Nancy! I may be a duffer, true
enough, but I rather object to its being called out from the
housetops.) And Nancy added: "I want you to understand distinctly,
Robert, that in my selection of a husband you are not to be consulted."
This was moving him around some.
"Hold on, Nan! Drat it, don't look like that! I meant nothing, dearie;
only I'm a heap surprised. Chuck _is_ a good fellow, I'll admit; but
I've been dreaming of your marrying a prince or an ambassador, and
Henderson comes like a jolt. Besides, Chuck will never be anything but
a first-rate politician. You'll have to get used to cheap cigars and
four-ply whisky. When is it going to happen?"
"In June. I have always loved him, Bob. And he wants you to be his best
man."
Robert appeared a bit mollified at this knowledge. "But what shall I do
after that?" he wailed. "You're the only person I can order about, and
now you're going the other side of the range."
"Bob, why don't you get married yourself?" asked Mrs. Warburton. "With
your looks you won't have to go far nor begging for a wife."
"There's the rub, sister mine by law and the admirable foresight of my
only brother. What am I good for but ordering rookies about? I've no
business head. And it's my belief that an Army man ought never to wed."
"Marry, my boy, and I'll see what can be done for you in the diplomatic
way. The new administration will doubtless be Republican, and my
influence will have some weight,"--and John smiled affectionately
across the table. He loved this gay lad opposite, loved him for his own
self and because he could always see the mother's eyes and lips. "You
have reached the age of discretion. You are now traveled and a fairly
good linguist. You've an income of forty-five hundred, and to this I
may be able to add a berth worth two or three thousand. Find the girl,
lad; find the girl."
"Honestly, I'll think it over, Jack."
"Oh!"
Three of the quartet turned wonderingly toward Mrs. Jack.
"What's the matter?" asked Jack.
"We have forgotten to show Bob the baby!"
"Merciful heavens!" bawled Robert. "A baby? This is the first time I've
heard anything about a baby,"--looking with renewed interest at the
young mother.
"Do you mean to tell me, John Warburton, that you failed to mention the
fact in any of your letters?" indignantly demanded Mrs. John.
"Why--er--didn't I mention it?" asked the perturbed father.
"Nary a word, nary a word!" Robert got up. "Now, where is this
wonderful he?--or is it a she?"
"Boy, Bob; greatest kid ever."
And they all trooped up the stairs to the nursery, where Mr. Robert was
forced to admit that, as regarded a three-months-old, this was the
handsomest little colt he had ever laid eyes on! Mr. Robert even
ventured to take the boy up in his arms.
"How d'ye hold him?" he asked.
Mrs. John took the smiling cherub, and the manner in which she folded
that infant across her young breast was a true revelation to the
prodigal, who felt his loneliness more than ever. He was a rank
outsider.
"Jack, you get me that diplomatic post, and I'll see to it that the
only bachelor in the Warburton family shall sleep in yonder cradle."
"Done!"
"How long is your furlough?" asked Nancy.
"Whom do you think the baby resembles?" asked the mother.
"One at a time, one at a time! The baby at present doesn't resemble any
one."
"There's your diplomat!" cried John, with a laugh.
"And my furlough is for several years, if not longer."
"What?" This query was general and simultaneous.
"Yes, I've disbanded. The Army will now go to rack and ruin. I am a
plain citizen of the United States. I expect to spend the winter in
Washington."
"The winter!" echoed Jack, mockingly dejected.
"John!" said his wife. John assumed a meek expression; and Mrs. John,
putting the baby in the cradle, turned to her brother-in-law. "I
thought the Army was a hobby with you."
"It was. I've saved up quite a sum, and I'm going to see a lot of fine
scenery if my leg doesn't give out."
"Or your bank account," supplemented John.
"Well, or my bank account."
"Draw on me whenever you want passage out West," went on the statesman
in chrysalis.
Whereupon they all laughed; not because John had said anything
particularly funny, but because there was a good and generous measure
of happiness in each heart.
"Bob, there's a ball at the British embassy tonight. You must go with
us."
"Impossible!" said Robert. "Remember my leg."
"That will not matter," said Mrs. John; "you need not dance."
"What, not dance? I should die of intermittent fever. And if I did
dance, my leg might give out."
"You can ride a horse all right," said John, in the way of argument.
"I can do that easily with my knees. But I can't dance with my knees.
No, I shall stay at home. I couldn't stand it to see all those famous
beauties, and with me posing as a wall-flower."
"But what will you do here all alone?"
"Play with the kid, smoke and read; make myself at home. You still
smoke that Louisiana, Jack?"
"Yes,"--dubiously.
"So. Now, don't let me interfere with your plans for tonight. I haven't
been in a home in so long that it will take more than one night for the
novelty to wear off. Besides, that nurse of yours, Kit, is good to look
at,"--a bit of the rogue in his eye.
"Bob!"--from both women.
"I promise not to look at her; I promise."
"Well, I must be off," said John. "I'm late now. I've a dozen plans for
coast defenses to go over with an inventor of a new carriage-gun. Will
you go with me, while I put you up at the Metropolitan, or will you
take a shopping trip with the women?"
"I'll take the shopping trip. It will be a sensation. Have you any
horses?"
"Six."
"Six! You _are_ a lucky pup: a handsome wife, a bouncing boy, and six
horses! Where's the stable?"
"In the rear. I keep only two stablemen; one to take care of the horses
and one to act as groom. I'm off. I've a cracking good hunter, if you'd
like a leg up. We'll all ride out to Chevy Chase Sunday. By-by, till
lunch."
Mr. Robert immediately betook himself to the stables, where he soon
became intimately acquainted with the English groom. He fussed about
the harness-room, deplored the lack of a McClelland saddle, admired the
English curbs, and complimented the men on the cleanliness of the
stables. The men exchanged sly smiles at first, but these smiles soon
turned into grins of admiration. Here was a man who knew a horse from
his oiled hoofs to his curried forelock.
"This fellow ought to jump well," he said, patting the sleek neck of
the hunter.
"He does that, sir," replied the groom. "He has never taken less than a
red ribbon. Only one horse beat him at the bars last winter in New
York. It was Mr. Warburton's fault that he did not take first prize. He
rode him in the park the day before the contest, and the animal caught
a bad cold, sir."
And then it was that this hero of mine conceived his great (not to say
young and salad) idea. It appealed to him as being so rich an idea that
the stables rang with his laughter.
"Sir?" politely inquired the groom.
"I'm not laughing at your statement, my good fellow; rather at an idea
which just occurred to me. In fact, I believe that I shall need your
assistance."
"In what way, sir?"
"Come with me."
The groom followed Warburton into the yard, A conversation began in low
tones.
"It's as much as my place is worth, sir. I couldn't do it, sir,"
declared the groom, shaking his head negatively.
"I'll guarantee that you will not suffer in the least. My brother will
not discharge you. He likes a joke as well as I do. You are not handed
twenty dollars every day for a simple thing like this."
"Very well, sir. I dare say that no harm will come of it. But I am an
inch or two shorter than you."
"We'll tide that over."
"I am at your orders, sir." But the groom returned to the stables,
shaking his head dubiously. He was not thoroughly convinced.
During the morning ride down-town the two women were vastly puzzled
over their brother's frequent and inexplicable peals of laughter.
"For mercy's sake, what do you see that is so funny?" asked Nancy.
"I'm thinking, my dears; only thinking."
"Tell us, that we may laugh, too. I'll wager that you are up to some
mischief, Master Robert. Please tell," Nancy urged.
"Later, later; at present you would fail to appreciate the joke. In
fact, you might make it miscarry; and that wouldn't do at all. Have a
little patience. It's a good joke, and you'll be in it when the time
comes."
And nothing more could they worm out of him.