HOW A SCANDAL-MONGER WAS SERVED
To have voluntarily exiled oneself, and to find when one wishes to
return that every door is closed against one, is not a pleasant
experience!
Philip Barrimore realized that in leaving Hawk’s Nest he had not only
done it of his own free will, but against the wishes of all concerned.
Now, though he could certainly go back and take possession of his old
room if he would, yet the door of the old home was closed against him;
or, to put the thing more plainly, the old home no longer existed. Mrs.
Henderson and her boys were installed there. His mother would be going
away. Hawk’s Nest remained, but the home was practically gone.
In the story Philip had read aloud at the White House, he had
ventilated views which had closed another door to him--the door of
love. Dan--wise Dan!--had entered at that door--so Philip thought! The
bungalow became a horror of loneliness.
Philip tried to work, but no ideas came. He would go out on Soda,
coming home wearied, but not refreshed.
At night he invariably walked across the field and looked upon the
White House.
Often he saw the light of Alvin’s lantern going to the little wood.
Always he saw the light through the blind of the window he had
accidentally learned was Miss Le Breton’s.
Another fact he had definitely learned--it had been on the drive home
to Gissing, after the animated picture show at the Public Hall--was
that he loved Eweretta’s half-sister more passionately even than he had
ever loved Eweretta. And she was also lost to him! He was stranded, a
lonely man who was now starving for love and sympathy.
In his mother’s happiness, which was indirectly of his making, he had
no part. Colonel Lane had never really liked him. A good many people
did not like him; but Alvin seemed to do so. For this reason Philip
began to have an affection for the rough Colonial. Uncle Robert’s
affection he had done his best to kill. True, Uncle Robert was always
kind to him, but when had Uncle Robert ever been anything but kind to
any human being?
There was no comfort in going to Hawk’s Nest now. Those two boys, Eric
and Will, played tricks on him. Why were they not sent to Brighton
College yet? They were not going till after Christmas. They turned
Hawk’s Nest into a pandemonium, and Uncle Robert seemed to like it! Two
or three nights a week he took those boys to the Hippodrome.
The mother was home again. She was preparing for her wedding, and
Colonel Lane was constantly there. Of course, Colonel Lane had got well
as by a miracle!
But Dan? How was it Dan did not turn up at the White House? Philip
dreaded his coming, but he resented his absence. If he had been in
Dan’s shoes he would have been again at the White House before now!
It was strange, too, that Dan was never mentioned by Alvin. Once or
twice Philip had mentioned Dan to Alvin in hopes that he would say
something about the engagement. Philip wanted to know if Miss Le
Breton was happy about it, but he could not ask a direct question.
At last a letter came from Dan. He wrote from Nice, where he said
he had installed his mother and aunt for the winter. He said he had
been seedy himself. But not one word of the Madonna! Could it be
possible?--no, he dared not think of it! Yet, would not Dan speak of
his happiness if Miss Le Breton had accepted him?
It was a dull November morning when Philip got Dan’s letter. He could
not rest, so he told Davis to get Soda out, deciding to ride in to
Hastings.
As he was starting, Alvin rode up alone. He too was riding into
Hastings, and hailed the chance of Philip’s company.
“I heard from Dan Webster to-day,” Philip said, as they rode side by
side. He glanced at the Colonial furtively to see the effect of the
announcement.
“Poor Webster!” muttered Alvin.
Philip’s heart bounded. “_Poor Webster!_”--why did Alvin say _poor_
Webster?
“He was pretty hard hit, poor devil!” went on Alvin. “I blundered too.
I thought my niece cared for him.”
Philip took off his cap and mopped his brow.
“Where does he write from?”
“He is in Nice, with his mother and aunt. He is seedy,” answered
Philip, “but he says he is returning at once to work.”
“There is no understanding women,” Alvin next said. “I think Aimée
means to remain unmarried. I should like her to marry some good man.
Mrs. Le Breton could live with them. I should make that a condition;
and I should go back to Canada. I thought I should like living a
gentleman’s life, as John did. But I don’t. I would rather be in Canada
and ‘hire out.’”
“But surely with all your money you would not need to ‘hire out’?”
laughed Philip.
He was glad of an excuse to laugh out. He felt like shouting. It was
all very well for Alvin to say his niece wanted to remain unmarried!
She should not remain unmarried if Philip could help it!
“You see,” said Alvin uneasily, “I have been used to hard work all my
life, and I am like a fish out of water.”
“But why _hire out_?” asked Philip. “Couldn’t you buy a farm and work
it?”
“Young man, there are things you do not understand,” Alvin told him a
little curtly.
Philip was silent.
Alvin himself was silent too for some time. His thoughts, awakened by
Philip’s natural question, brought his sin vividly before him. He buy
a farm, indeed! was he not at this very moment living on Eweretta’s
charity? He could not bear it! He was still strong and hearty. There
were years more work in him. If only he could see Eweretta happily
married, he would then disappear.
If only Eweretta would let him confess his crime, and give her her own
identity, then he felt sure Philip would claim her. He had that very
morning had a painful interview with the girl on this subject. But she
obstinately refused to give him permission to speak.
Alvin resolved to go to Father Donelli, tell him the whole story, and
beg him to use his influence with Eweretta. She liked the old priest;
moreover, he could, if he would, use compulsion.
Things could not go on as the were. The “Thirteenth Man” had, he felt,
sold his soul to rid himself of his ill-luck. Surely Eweretta, as a
good Catholic, would not wish him to remain with such a sin on his
conscience if Father Donelli made her see it in its true light?
Very little conversation took place between the two men after this.
Each was full of his own thoughts.
A diversion occurred as they came to Blacklands.
A big crowd was gathered at the corner by the church. In the centre of
the crowd was a policeman holding by the arm a bedraggled and dripping
woman, who was sobbing angrily, while the crowd jeered.
Alvin inquired of a man what was the matter.
“Old Tom Jones has ducked a woman in the sea for slandering his wife,”
said the man, “and the bobby is seeing her home. Serve her right, the
old cat! she’s always spreading scandals about people!”
“I know that woman by sight,” Philip remarked to Alvin. “I have seen
her at Pickett’s farm; but not just lately.”
“It must be that Mrs. Hannington,” said Alvin. “Aimée went for her at
the farm because she was scandalizing someone. The Picketts have thrown
her over.”
They rode on, parting at the gate of Hawk’s Nest.
“Come in to-night, won’t you?” called Alvin as he rode off.
“Thank you, I will,” Philip called back.