WHICH IS IN SOME RESPECTS SATISFACTORY
Judith sat in Mr. Fenno's little office, while in the larger room the
magnates were slowly gathering. She was deeply interested in the result
of the coming meeting, a little anxious as well, on account of the last
words which Mr. Fenno had said to her.
"Do you think George will accept?" he had asked.
"Why should he not?" she returned, startled.
"You see no reason?" were his words as he left her.
She puzzled to find a reason until, in the outer office, Mr. Fenno's
deep voice began to address the little meeting. Before him sat, in two
groups, the financiers and the reform politicians, whose interests were
to be reconciled. They had, between them, the power to make a new
railway president and a new mayor, but never yet had the two groups of
men worked together.
"We all know why we are here," Mr. Fenno began. "A holy crusade is our
object--or the protection of our interests."
"It is not your interests that influence you," said one of the
reformers. "We are glad to see, Mr. Fenno, that you are moved by
righteous indignation. This recent tragedy--" But Mr. Fenno stopped him
by a sudden gesture.
"My stenographer," and he emphasised the word, "my stenographer is
within hearing. If we require any other agreements than I have prepared,
she can copy them." He saw the glances which his friends exchanged at
the news of Judith's presence; moved by the sudden reference to her
misfortunes, his heavy voice trembled as he proceeded. "We all have
our--wrongs to avenge, and a good friend to place in his proper
position. Before Mr. Mather comes, suppose we arrive at an
understanding."
"Suppose," rejoined the leader of the reformers, "Mr. Fenno makes a
statement of his expectations. It seems to me," he said when the
explanation was forthcoming, "that the Good Government League is
expected to give more than it receives."
"It is more blessed----" quoted Mr. Fenno drily.
"Can't we," put in Pease mildly, "give concessions on either side? I
think we need each other."
"It is just this," said Mr. Fenno to the reformers: "Lend us your
candidate to straighten out our tangle, and we'll lend him back to
straighten yours."
"Is it possible," was the doubtful question, "that a president of the
street-railroad can stand for mayor without raising suspicion of his
motives?"
"Mather can," answered Pease promptly.
"Certainly with less suspicion than Ellis arouses," supplemented Mr.
Fenno. "Come, will you lose a chance to defeat Ellis on his first line
of battle? He will be beaten all the easier on his second."
"We are thinking of Mr. Mather's standing before the public," replied
the reformers. "He must resign from your presidency as soon as we
nominate him."
"Very well."
"That suits you?"
"Yes, if you will release him from his promise to you now."
"We will, if you will support him then."
"Here is an agreement covering these points," said Mr. Fenno. "Shall we
put our names to this?"
It was on a scene of paper-signing, then, that Mather entered. Some of
the gentlemen looked up and nodded to him; others--they were all his
seniors--continued passing the papers around the table. He paused with
his hand upon the door-knob.
"Am I in the way?" he asked.
"Everything is decided without you," answered Mr. Fenno. "We have merely
disposed of your time for the next eighteen months."
Mather laughed, threw off his coat, and took a chair. They explained
matters to him; in her seclusion Judith listened long before she heard
him say a word. Then he began to ask questions, deep and far-reaching,
but every difficulty had been considered beforehand.
"And my obligations to you, Mr. Pease?" he said once. "I was not to quit
the Electrolytic Company until the fall."
"I have arranged all that," Pease replied. "The new Chebasset manager is
very satisfactory; we will promote him."
"Well, what do you say?" asked Fenno, when every point had been covered.
Mather sat thoughtful for a while. "I may understand," he asked at
length, "that your proposition amounts to approval of my former course
as president of the street-railway?"
They assured him that it did.
"I should pursue," he next said, "the same policy. In place of Mr.
Ellis's subway bill, which was this morning thrown out of the
legislature, I should at once introduce another."
"Different in plan?" some one inquired.
"Quite," Mather answered, smiling. "Having no real estate to condemn at
high prices, I have no desire for the privilege of eminent domain."
"Have you any objection," they asked him, "to serving in these two
positions in such quick succession?"
He smiled again. "Are you sure you can elect me to either?"
"Suppose we can?" returned Mr. Fenno.
"Supposing you can," began Mather--then stopped to think.
"Well?" demanded Mr. Fenno after a moment's impatience.
Mather roused himself. "Supposing that you can elect me," he said
seriously, "there is just one thing I wish to lay before you--a
statement of my personal feelings. We all know each other well, we have
the same interests, we know and say things which are not given to the
public. I wish to define my position exactly." He paused and looked at
the attentive faces. In her little office Judith asked herself with
sudden alarm: "Will he refuse?"
"The personal element," he went on, "has recently entered into my
relations with Mr. Ellis. There are distresses which I and--friends of
mine, have suffered through him, by actions which make him morally, if
not legally, criminal. Some of you know that what I say is true."
He looked at Pease, who nodded; Fenno did the same, but no one spoke.
Mather began again with increasing energy, yet slowly, struggling for an
exact statement of his position. "I have," he said, "and acknowledge
freely, reason for the bitterest personal dislike of Mr. Ellis. And for
that reason, considering the possibility of the proposals which you make
to me, it has sometimes seemed to me as if I ought to refuse you----"
"You must consider----" cried Pease, half rising from his chair. But
Mather held up a hand to stay him.
"And yet," he said, as Pease sank back again, "I recognise the
situation here. Long ago I expressed my disapproval of Mr. Ellis as a
public man, and opposed him before--certain circumstances arose.
Besides, I am the man (excuse me if I say it) that best can meet this
strike; and again, a successful fight must be made for mayor in the
fall. I believe that I can win there for you. So if it comes to a
question between my personal feelings and my duties as a citizen,
then--if you will believe my honesty in this confession, and in trusting
myself to oppose Mr. Ellis without vindictiveness--if you will believe
this, and will fight him with me not as a man but as a force, an evil
force, then I will sign this document with you."
In her little room Judith found herself trembling in response to the
emotion which had vibrated in his voice; but in the larger office the
gentlemen rose from their chairs, crowded around Mather, and in
enthusiasm promised him their support. No one noticed the noise of the
opening of the outer door; it was a full minute before the first of them
perceived the figure which, attentive and sneering, watched them. It was
Ellis.
He heard their words and knew their purposes, yet he had guessed
beforehand what they had gathered there to do. By one of those bold
strokes which had so often succeeded for him, he had come among them in
the attempt to conciliate a strong minority. He had expected to arouse
consternation, yet on perceiving him they looked at each other as if
welcoming his presence. Still ignorant of Price's treachery, he did not
understand the sign.
"Twelve good men and true," he said, coming forward. "Is this an
inquest?"
"A funeral," Mr. Fenno replied. "Some one whom we know is dead and cold.
Will you not pronounce the benediction?"
"Ah, I am not qualified," Ellis said. "But learning that you were here
in great distress of mind, I came to see if I could not relieve you. I
hope you will excuse the interruption?"
"Willingly," Mr. Fenno answered, with much cheerfulness.
Then Ellis changed his tone; dropping the banter, he looked upon them
frankly. "Seriously, I understand that you are here to discuss what you
regard as mismanagement in the street-railway. I know I come without
invitation, yet I wish to make an offer. You have large interests in the
road, I dislike to exclude a minority from any voice in affairs, and so
I came to say that if you wish more representation on the next board of
directors----"
"Then we shall have it?" interrupted Mr. Fenno. "Gentlemen, is not Mr.
Ellis very kind?"
Ellis noted the sustained irony, and as those present murmured their
responses to the question he saw in them no conciliatory spirit. They
looked at him with that inquiring reserve which was not difficult to
meet in them singly, but which, thus directed at him by a group of the
blue-bloods, became irritatingly oppressive. And there was more in its
meaning than ever before. Suddenly he asked himself if these men could
be stronger than he had thought. He had been very busy all the morning
with messages to and from the capital in regard to his bill, and with
the strike. If anything had happened on exchange----
The serious voice of Pease began to speak. "I imagine that Mr. Ellis, in
studying the market reports to-day, failed to remark a transfer which
was recorded three minutes before the closing time. Otherwise he would
scarcely have come here."
The inquiring glances of the others grew keener, pressing upon Ellis
almost physically as those present watched for the effect of Pease's
words. Standing alone against them, Ellis felt a sudden sense of
impending calamity, between his temples a pressure began, and in the
silence his voice was scarcely audible as in spite of himself he asked
hoarsely: "What do you mean?"
"History," answered Pease slowly--never in his life before had he been
deliberately cruel--"history, Mr. Ellis, has taught some valuable
lessons, of which I should like to call two to your attention. One is
that some great men meet their Waterloo, the other that some little men
have their--Price!"
Something flashed before Ellis's eyes, and in that flash he saw the
whole treachery. His head dropped, his eyes closed, and his jaw shut
convulsively. "Price! Price!" he hissed.
Then in an instant he stood upright and faced them without flinching.
Though he saw the whole meaning of the news, though he realised the
power of the caste which, so long supine, at last had risen up against
him, even though he knew he faced two great defeats, he looked upon his
adversaries, and they saw courage in his glance. He turned to Mather.
"Mather," said Ellis, "you think you've got me."
He felt, as that same quiet glance looked down on him, the continual
irritation of it, the impossibility of ever attaining that superb
indifference. And then the answer: "For the present I have." Would they
never boast, these aristocrats--never threaten? First, despising him,
they had left him alone; even now when they turned on him they still
looked down on him. A torrent of words rushed to his lips, and yet,
feeling how powerless he was to impress those silent, attentive
spectators, he checked himself.
"For the present!" he repeated, and turned to go.
In his unfamiliar surroundings he mistook the door and opened one
leading into a little office where, facing him across a table, he
saw--who was that? Pale, intent, startled at his entrance, Judith
Blanchard rose and confronted him. For a moment he stared as at a
portent.
Then quickly he closed the door and turned to the men at his back. Fenno
and Pease had started forward; with Mather, they were the nearest to
him. He eyed them one by one. "So," he said, pointing to the little
room, "_that_ is why you are all here!"
They made no answer. "Because I wish to enter your homes, is it," he
asked, "that you combine against me? Because I nearly succeeded, I
frightened you?"
Mather did not understand, Pease and Fenno had no reply to make, but
Ellis, feeling with pain that he had pronounced a truth against himself,
waited for no answer. "But wait!" he cried, stamping. "I have avoided
you, favoured you at times, but now I am against you in everything. I
will go out of my way to meet you. What you wish, I shall oppose; what
you build, I shall throw down; what you bring in, I shall throw out! For
everything you win, you must pay; I will weary you of fighting. I will
plan while you sleep, act while you rest, work while you play. Your
virtue shall be a load to you, and I will tire your vigilance!"
He flung his phrases like bombs, to burst among his adversaries; casting
his prophecies in their faces, he startled his opponents from their
reserve. Then, turning, he rushed from the office, leaving them staring
at each other as if a whirlwind had passed.
* * * * *
One by one Mather's supporters left the office, each renewing his
promise of assistance, yet each subdued by the thoughts aroused by
Ellis's amazing words. For they recognised a challenge which would be
hard to meet--to be as persistent in their efforts as Ellis should be
with his, to meet his subtlety, to foresee his plans, to counteract his
influence, to expose his methods. And having businesses, having
families, loving repose and pleasure, only the reformers, those modern
Puritans, could promise the self-denial necessary to meet Ellis's
unceasing activities.
Pease, Fenno, and Mather at last remained in the office. "Tremendous!"
sighed Pease, breaking a period of thought which the departure of Ellis
had inaugurated for him.
"Tremendous!" repeated Fenno.
"Are we equal to it?" asked Mather seriously.
Mr. Fenno recovered his cynicism. "Sufficient to the day is its weevil,"
he answered. "Grubs breed fast, but they can be killed. I am going
home."
The three put on their coats. "We are going the same way, I suppose?"
Mather remarked.
"Pease and I have something to talk over," replied Mr. Fenno. "Yes we
have, Pease! None of your confounded straightforwardness. You must give
us a start, George; five minutes' law, if you please. And I should like
you to wait," he pointed to the door of the inner office, "in that room.
Good-evening."
"Good-evening," repeated Pease, and followed Mr. Fenno out.
Thought Mather: "What under the sun----" He opened the door of the
little room. "Judith!"
There she sat and looked at him; on her cheeks were traces of tears, but
her eyes were bright as they met his. He looked from her to the
uncovered typewriter, the pencils and note-book. "So it was you," he
said, "that Ellis saw before he turned upon us so?"
She nodded, looking on him silently.
"What is it?" he asked, coming a step nearer. "You look--Judith, are you
ill?"
Suddenly she rose and held out her hands to him. "Oh, George," she
cried, "I am so glad for you!"
"Oh," he said, relieved, "I was afraid that--Judith, you have been
crying. Is anything wrong? Was the work hard?" She shook her head. "Then
this meeting has distressed you?"
Unashamed, she wiped her cheeks. "It is not that."
"Come to the window," he said, for the early twilight was falling. But
when he studied her in the stronger light he saw nothing in her eyes
except a resolute cheerfulness; the unwonted pink in her cheeks might be
the reflection of the sunset glow.
"Nothing is wrong with me," she said, and took her jacket from the hook
on the wall. "I suppose Mr. Fenno will not want me any more to-day, so I
may as well go home." Yet while Mather helped her to put on the jacket,
the knowledge that he was studying her set her nerves to trembling, and
it was by an effort that she controlled herself.
"You are under some strain," he said with decision. "Did Ellis frighten
you?"
She answered, "I have no fear of him." Drawing her gloves from her
pocket, she tried to put them on, but her hands trembled visibly. She
abandoned the attempt at concealment, and turned to him.
"It's just that I'm glad for you, George, and proud of you, and--I've
been making an acknowledgment to myself, that's all. Now shall we go
home?"
But he took her hand and kept her face toward the window. "I should like
to hear that acknowledgment, if I may?"
Perhaps the colours deepened in the sky; at any rate, her cheeks grew
rosier as she looked away from him, out above the roofs. "If you wish
to know," she answered.
"I wish it very much."
She folded her hands before her tightly; they showed white against her
dress. "No one else will hear," she began uncertainly, "although every
one else heard your confession, George. I heard, and somehow you set me
thinking of the time we met in the Golf Club, long ago, last April."
"Last April," he repeated, and added with meaning, "Long ago."
Her voice grew stronger. "I will tell you everything," she said. "You
will see what a foolish girl I have been--how proud I was. We spoke then
of the world, and you warned me of it; you said that it was very big,
and strong, and merciless."
"I remember," Mather said.
"But I did not believe," Judith went on. "I thought that you--you had
just lost this presidency, George--I thought that you were cowed. And I
thought that I was braver than you, and stronger than you, and I
believed that I--I, George!--could conquer the world!"
She made a little gesture of amazement at herself; gravely attentive, he
did not speak. Then she pointed down at her black dress, swept her hand
toward the typewriter, and exclaimed: "And this is the result! But I
know myself now, George, and I am glad you made me say this, for I want
to beg your pardon."
"There is no need of that," he answered.
"Then," she asked, "shall we go?"
"Not yet," he replied. But he continued looking at her without saying
more, and to cover her embarrassment she said:
"Just let me tell you first that Mr. Fenno has engaged me permanently,
and I feel that I have started a new life, George."
She was attempting to be gay, a difficult task in the face of his
continued serious scrutiny; but to her relief he spoke. "A new life?
Why, that leads to an old subject, Judith. And what you have said makes
me hope that some day I may begin a new life, too."
"Yours begins next week," she said, "with the stockholders' meeting."
"It begins," he returned, "whenever you say the word." She turned
abruptly aside from him and looked out of the window; there could now be
no doubt whence came the colour that flooded her face and even touched
her ears with coral. He came close to her side.
"See," he said, pointing out the window. "The sun is going down. Shall
it not rise again on a new life for us both?"
"George," she answered, "how can I marry any one?"
"You are thinking," he asked, "of your debt to Ellis?"
She nodded. "How can I so burden you?"
He laughed. "I can pay the money out of hand; I can earn it again in
three years. Jacob served seven years for Rachel: will you not let me
work a little while for you?" He tried to draw her to him. "Judith!
Judith!"
Suddenly she turned and nestled to him. "Oh, hold me!" she sobbed. "Take
care of me always!"