A FACE FROM THE PAST.
Madame Medjora turned at the sound of her husband's voice with mingled
emotion,--pleasure at seeing him at home again, for she still loved
him with the passionate ardor of those earlier days, and anxiety,
because her keen ear detected a tone of reproval in his words. Had she
been a thoroughly wise woman that note of warning would have served to
make her desist, but she was not to be baffled, when once she had
determined to learn the meaning of anything that had aroused her
curiosity or excited her suspicion. So instead of abandoning the
subject, and welcoming her husband with an effusiveness which would
have smoothed the wrinkles from his forehead, she turned upon him
almost angrily, and said:
"Why do you prompt him? Is he an idiot that he cannot tell his name?"
"Not at all," said the Doctor, hopeful of dispersing the threatened
storm, and therefore becoming slightly explanatory and conciliatory.
"You have evidently confused Mr. Grath by your manner of questioning
him, that is all. He is a country boy, unused to city ways, and you
must excuse him if he is not as ready with an answer, as he will be
after we make a citizen of him."
"He must be from the country indeed," was the sneering reply. "He must
have been raised in a forest, to be so confused because I ask him his
name." Then altering her tone, and speaking more rapidly, she
continued: "Do not think that your wife is a fool, Dr. Medjora. Even a
dog knows his name. There is something about this that you wish to
hide from me. But I will not submit to it. You shall not bring any
nameless beggars into my house!"
Leon uttered a cry as though wounded, and started to leave the
apartment, but the Doctor, livid with anger, detained him by clutching
his arm, as he would have passed, and turning upon his wife uttered
but one word:
"Cora!"
That was all, but his voice implied such a threat, that the woman
shrunk back, awed, and frightened, and utterly subdued, she merely
murmured:
"Emanuel, forgive me!"
"Go to your room!" ejaculated the Doctor, sternly, and after one
appealing glance at him, which he ignored, she swiftly glided through
the door, and closed it softly after her. Thus the two men were left
to themselves. Leon was the first to speak:
"Dr. Medjora," he began, "I thank you most heartily for what you have
intended to do for me, but we have made a mistake. I cannot enter your
home now. I can never hope that your wife will forget what has
occurred to-day. Therefore were I to remain, my presence must become
intolerably obnoxious to her; and her unhappiness would be but a
blight upon your own peace."
"Perhaps you are right," said the Doctor quietly, and as though
meditating upon the affair. "It is possible that you would not be as
happy here as I would wish you to be. But if you go away from me, what
will you do?"
"Work!" answered the youth, succinctly.
"Well answered," said the Doctor. "But, my boy, that is more easily
decided upon than accomplished. You are a stranger, not only in the
city, but to city manners and city methods. You would start out with
determination to succeed, and in the first day you would apply at many
places. But at them all you would be met with such questions as 'Where
did you work last?' 'What experience have you?' 'What references can
you offer?' You would answer them all unsatisfactorily, and you would
be dismissed with a shrug of the shoulders."
"I have no doubt, Doctor, that it will be hard to obtain a place; but,
as ignorant as I am, I have formed an idea upon this subject. I
believe that in this country, where surely nine tenths of all men earn
a livelihood, the small proportion of idlers have themselves to blame
for their condition. Of course there must be a meritorious few who are
unfortunate, but I speak of the greater number. Therefore I think that
if I seek work, without any scruples as to what work it may be, I
shall not starve."
"But are you ready to go right out into the world, single handed? Do
you mean that you would begin the battle at once, to-day?"
"I do!"
"You do? Then I have faith in you. I, too, believe that you will
succeed. I wish you God speed!"
Leon said "Thank you," and then there was a pause. In a moment,
however, Leon started towards the front door, and the Doctor followed
him in silence. The youth took down his hat from the jutting spur of a
gnarled cedar stump, which, polished and varnished, served as a
hat-rack, and a moment later stood upon the stoop extending his hand
in farewell.
"Dr. Medjora," said Leon, "you must not think that I am ungrateful,
nor that I am too proud to accept your aid. I am only doing what I
deem to be my duty after--after what has passed. Good-by."
"Good-by, Leon," said the Doctor, shaking his hand warmly.
Leon started away, and, passing along the path, was nearing the gate
that led to the street, when suddenly he paused, turned, and quickly
retraced his steps. He found the Doctor standing where he had parted
from him. Rushing up the steps, he essayed to speak, but a sob choked
his utterance, and it was with difficulty that he said:
"Lossy!" Then he stopped, looking anxiously at the Doctor. It was
surely a pretty picture. The lad had not hesitated to cast himself
against the rude pricks of Fate, but the recollection of his dog made
him tremble.
"Lossy will be brought here this afternoon," said the Doctor. "I have
already sent my man down to get him out of his box, and bring him.
What do you wish me to do about him?"
"Oh, Doctor," exclaimed the boy, appealingly, "if you would only keep
my dog! You were kind enough to buy him for me. But now--now--unless
you will keep him awhile--why--why--" Here he broke down utterly and
ceased to speak, while a tear-drop in each eye glistened in the
sunlight which crossed his handsome features, illuminated by the love
that welled up from his heart; love for this dumb beast that had been
his friend for so long a time.
"I will keep Lossy for you, Leon," began the Doctor, but he was
interrupted by Leon, who grasped his hand impulsively, crying:
"Heaven bless you, Doctor!"
"But, I will keep you, also, my boy," continued the Doctor, tightening
his grasp of Leon's hand, so that he could not get away.
"No! No!" cried the lad.
"Yes! Yes!" said the Doctor. "Now come back into the house and let me
explain myself." Half forcibly he drew the youth after him, and they
returned to the room where they had first been. Then the Doctor
resumed:
"Leon, did you suppose that I meant to let you go away? That I would
bring you so far and then abandon you to your own resources? Never for
one instant did I harbor such a thought. But when you spoke as you
did, I determined to try you; to see whether you were speaking in
earnest, or for effect. Therefore I seemed to acquiesce. Therefore I
let you go without even offering you some money, or telling you to
come back to me if in distress. My boy, you stood the trial nobly. I
was proud of you as you walked down the path, and I was about to
follow you when I saw you pause and turn back. For an instant I feared
that you had wavered, but I was more than gratified that it was to
plead for the dog, and not for yourself that you returned."
"But Doctor, how can I remain?" asked the lad, helplessly, for already
he began to feel the necessity of submitting to the domination of this
man, as so many others had experienced.
"How can you remain? Why, simply by doing so. You mean, what will my
wife think? She will think just what I wish her to think. It is a
habit of hers to do so." Here he laughed significantly. "But you need
not fear Madame. You believe that she will resent what she would term
an intrusion. But you are mistaken. You will meet her next at dinner,
and you will see that she will be quite friendly. In fact, she did not
understand matters this morning. She was angry with me because I had
not notified her that I would bring home a guest, but when I shall
have talked with her that will be all changed."
So the matter was determined, and, as usual, Dr. Medjora's will
decided the issue. Meanwhile, Madame had ascended to her room in high
dudgeon. Since the day when we last saw her she had altered very
little. Her most prominent characteristics had not changed, except as
they had become more fully developed. But in many ways this
development had been deceptive, for, whereas many who knew her
believed that certain unpleasing features had been eliminated from her
character, the truth was that she had merely suppressed them, as a
matter of policy.
The union of such a woman with a man like Dr. Medjora, was an
interesting study in matrimonial psychology. In all marriages one of
two results is usually to be anticipated. The stronger individuality
will dominate the other and mould it into submission, or the two
characters will become amalgamated, each altering the other, until a
plane is reached on which there is possible a harmony of desires. In
this case neither of these conditions had been fulfilled, although
nearly all who were acquainted with the Doctor and his wife supposed
that the husband was the ruling spirit. The truth, however, was that
while Dr. Medjora controlled his wife in important matters, he had by
no means succeeded in merging her character into his own. Where
contention arose, she obeyed his commands, but she never submitted her
will. She surrendered, like a wise general, to superior force, but she
secretly resented her defeat, and sought a way of retreat by which in
the end she might compass her own designs.
By these means, she had deceived all of her acquaintances, and she
enjoyed the idea that she had also deceived her husband. In this she
was mistaken. Dr. Medjora understood thoroughly that his wife only
yielded to him under protest, and in many instances he had refrained
from making a move, when by doing so he could have thwarted her
subsequent efforts to have her own way. Thus he adroitly avoided open
warfare, satisfied that in secret strategy he was his wife's equal, if
not her superior. In this manner they had lived together for so many
years, enjoying their relationship as much as is usual with married
folks, and keeping up an outward show that caused all to believe that,
with them, matrimony was a great success. And so it was, if one could
only overlook the fact that beneath this semblance of happiness there
smouldered a fire, which might at any time be aroused by a chance
spark, and grow into a blaze which would consume the whole fabric of
their existence. The embers of this fire were, jealousy and suspicion
on the side of the woman, and secretiveness in the man. Madame Medjora
had never forgotten that her inquiry as to whether her husband had had
a child by his previous wife had been unanswed; nor had she quite
abandoned the hope of satisfying herself upon the subject.
During the later years, she had much regretted to see what she
considered one source of power slowly slipping away from her. In the
beginning, her husband had not hesitated to call upon her for funds
with which to advance his interests, but as the years passed his own
resources had increased so rapidly, that he was now entirely
independent of her, and, indeed, owing to shrinkages in the values of
her property, he was really richer than she. The house in which they
lived had been rebuilt by him, and by degrees he had paid off the
mortgages out of his earnings, until he owned it freed from debt.
So, as she sat in her room and meditated upon the fact that she had
said that Leon should not be admitted to the house, she remembered
with a feeling of bitterness that she was the mistress in the house
only by right of wifehood, and not because she held any privileges
arising from proprietorship.
She had been anticipating pleasure from the reunion with her husband,
and now, because of "that country boy," she had received only unkind
words from the Doctor. Naturally, she exonerated herself from all
fault, and, because of her love, she would not blame her husband.
There was no other course but to attribute the whole trouble to Leon.
But for him, she argued, all would have been pleasant, therefore he
must bear the brunt of her resentment. Already she began to hate him.
To hate him as only a tropical temperament can hate. She was in this
mood when the Doctor entered. At once she arose to greet him. In an
instant she hid within the depths of her bosom all emotions save those
of love, and any one, other than the Doctor, would have believed that
she harbored no unpleasant recollections or ill feeling because of the
recent scene. He was not deceived. He had lived with her for more than
fifteen years, and in that time he had appraised her correctly. Now,
however, it suited him best to accept her caresses, and to return them
with a show of warmth, which made the blood course faster through her
veins, the more so because she had expected him to be angry, and
because he rarely exhibited much feeling. This wily man well knew the
weak spot in this woman's armor, and when he most desired to sway her
actions, he first touched her heart.
"Well, _cara mia_, are you glad to have me with you again?" He folded
her close to his breast, and kissed her lips. She nestled within his
arms, and returned the salute rapturously. Presently he spoke again.
"You were naughty, down stairs, little one?"
There was scarcely a reproach in his voice; he spoke rather as an
indulgent parent chides an erring, but beloved child. She looked up
into his eyes and merely murmured,
"You will forgive me?"
Some may doubt that the warmer demonstrations of love could survive
the destroying influences of a companionship covering so many years,
and be still expressed with the fervor of youth. To such I say, what
has not come within your own experience is not necessarily false.
Love, especially in woman, is a hardy plant and will blossom and
flower, long after its earlier excitations have ceased to exist. The
beauty of form, and attractiveness of manner, which first arouses the
tender passion within our breast, may pass away from the object of our
admiration, and yet our love may be deeper, fuller, and wider than at
its inception. Yea, it may even retain its fullest demonstrativeness.
In many cases it thrives most by harsh treatment, where it might
expire by over-tending. Madame Medjora's affection was of this sort.
Had her husband yielded to her all that she demanded, she would long
ago have been surfeited, and not improbably she would have left him.
This, however, he had never done. She had always feared that he did
not love her as she yearned to be loved, and therefore she was ever
ready with cajolery, flattery, and other means familiar to women, to
win from him a fuller responsiveness.
At this moment, intoxicated by his caresses, she spoke from her heart
when she asked him to forgive her. The slight reproof of his words,
however gently spoken, was the tiny bit of cloud upon her present
clear sky of joy. She wished to dissipate it utterly, and then bask in
the full sunshine of his love, as dear to her to-day as before her
nuptials. But by no means did she regret the act which had called
forth his speech, except as it affected her momentary happiness. She
was ready to yield outwardly to anything that he might demand of her
in such a mood, but, later, she would return to her purpose with zeal.
That purpose, in this instance, would be to make Leon as miserable as
she could if he remained, but to have him out of the house if
possible. The game was now worth watching, for both players were very
skilful, and each was intent upon carrying the day eventually. Each
was as patient as persistent.
"You ask me to forgive you, Cora," was the Doctor's reply. "Do you
admit that you behaved very badly?"
"Now you are going to scold," said his wife, in a demure tone that
sounded odd from one of her years. But Madame often assumed the airs
of youthfulness, without realizing how poorly they suited her.
"I would never scold you, Cora, if you would only think always before
you act. You have been both unwise and unreasonable."
"I would not have been if you had informed me in advance that the boy
was coming. But you never tell me anything, Emanuel."
"Perhaps I should have done so in this case. But I only decided
yesterday, just before I left the country. A letter would not have
reached you, and I would not telegraph, because you are always
frightened by a despatch."
"The horrid things! I hate telegrams!"
"Exactly! It was from consideration for you that I did not notify you.
As soon as I reached home I came here to find you and explain, but you
had run down the other stairway, and so unfortunately you met Leon
before I intended you should."
"Leon Grath?" There was an accent upon the last name, and an
inflection of the voice very delicately expressed, which intimated
that there was a doubt. Madame could not resist speaking thus quickly,
hoping that a glance, an expression, however fleeting, might cross the
Doctor's face, which would be a clue upon which she might base her
future investigation. But she gained nothing by the manoeuvre, and
the Doctor continued, as though unsuspicious of her intent.
"Yes, Leon Grath. Sit down and I will tell you about him. Some years
ago I first met Leon, while hunting in the vicinity of his home, he
had broken his leg, and I set it for him. Subsequently in succeeding
years we have hunted together. This summer I was intending to look him
up, as a companion on a fishing excursion. Arriving in his
neighborhood, I learned that his mother had just died, leaving no
will, and that the farm would be sold and the boy left penniless,
through a technicality which made the small estates revert to the
surviving sisters. These old hags hated Leon, and, consequently, from
a comfortable home, he was about to become an outcast. I therefore
decided to bring him home with me. He will now live with us."
"Forever?" gasped Madame, surprised to learn that, instead of a guest,
the lad was destined to be a permanent addition to their household.
"Forever!" replied the Doctor, with just a little severity; enough to
check the expression of resentment which he saw rising. Then in order
to give her time to regain control of herself he went on. "Yes! I have
long needed an assistant, and I am sure that Leon will prove an apt
pupil and rapidly learn enough to become useful to me. However, I may
be mistaken. He may prove a failure, and then I should find him a
position elsewhere." This was offered as a sort of compromise for her
acceptance. He held out the possibility that Leon would leave them.
Madame was in nowise deceived. She had appreciated the tone of her
husband's voice as he uttered the word, "Forever," and she knew that
Leon would never leave them on account of proving a failure as a
student. However, she accepted the situation, and assumed a
satisfaction which was mere dissembling.
"Now that I understand the facts, Emanuel, I shall do all in my power
to make the boy happy while he is here, even though it be only for a
short time." The last words were in response to her husband's
suggestion, but he understood her motive as well as she had
comprehended his. Thus they fenced with one another.
"I knew that you would do so, Cora," replied the Doctor. "Will you
come down now and speak to Leon before I take him out with me? I must
have some clothing ordered for him."
Together they descended to where Leon sat awaiting them, and the
youth's fears were set at rest, for the time being at least. Madame
approached him with her most alluring manner, and welcomed him, in
words, to his new home. She even asked him to forget her brusqueness
at their first meeting, and then, suggesting that he must be hungry,
rang a bell and ordered light refreshments.
The Doctor sat apart from them, apparently looking over his letters,
but in reality observing closely all that transpired, and while Leon
was thoroughly charmed by the altered manner of his hostess, Dr.
Medjora decided, within his own mind, that in relation to this boy his
wife's actions would require the closest scrutiny.
Presently a gong sounded, and a few moments later a servant announced:
"Judge Dudley. Miss Dudley."
The Judge came in with extended hand, and was warmly greeted by the
Doctor, while the young lady went up to Madame, who kissed her on her
cheek, and received her with an outward show of cordiality, which a
close observer might have seen was but a polite veneer. The Doctor
hastened to bring Leon forward, and presented him first to the Judge,
and then to Miss Agnes Dudley.
The young people bowed their acknowledgments, and as they raised their
heads, so that their eyes met, both started slightly. Leon was
astonished to recognize the face of the girl whom he had met when
studying Venus, and whose image had recurred to him that night on Lake
Massabesic.