A SURPRISE
DURING the night Frank decided that he would not argue with Jack again
the question which was troubling them both, since it was too painful for
discussion.
However, he did not sleep much, although not once did his conviction
that he was doing the right thing waver. Frank had the belief in his own
judgment which comes to certain people with authority. Also, he disliked
to suggest to his wife any of the little, ugly, suspicious things of
life, which he knew her fine, clean nature would not consider. But all
the more for this reason did he believe that he should protect her, even
against herself.
Therefore, at breakfast the next morning, Frank made no reference to
Jack's final defiance the night before. Not for an instant did he think
that she had meant anything, except to have him appreciate how utterly
her point of view and her inclination differed from his. This he
accepted, realizing that he really could not, under the circumstances,
expect anything else. But that Jack would ignore his wish--even his
expressed command--was beyond his comprehension. She had always been
perfectly reasonable and amenable, and there was nothing to serve him as
a warning.
"I'll let you know as soon as I hear from the war office," Frank
remarked, as he left for London.
Jack simply nodded quietly in response without replying. As a matter of
fact she, too, had made up her mind in the night not to reopen the
subject upon which she and Frank were so completely at variance.
Perhaps Jack was wrong in this and in the whole proceeding which
followed. Except to say that she had the right to use her own
judgment--she never attempted to justify herself.
As soon as she had arranged her household matters and had seen her
children, she went into her private sitting room and, by using her
telephone for an hour or more, secured the information which she
desired.
She was able to locate Captain MacDonnell and also to learn that he was
still alive. Moreover, Frank telegraphed this same fact while she was
still at the telephone.
Then Jack sent word for Olive and Frieda to come to her bedroom, and
when they arrived she carefully closed the door.
They found her packing a small bag.
"What is it, Jack? Are you going up to London to join Frank?" Frieda
inquired, she and Olive having been told nothing of the contents of
Captain MacDonnell's letter, nor that there was such a letter in
existence.
Jack had taken off her morning dress and put on a light flannel wrapper
of pale grey with a white collar, as she wished to proceed with her
packing more readily.
At Frieda's question she shook her head quietly and sat down in a big
chair for a moment, asking Olive and Frieda also to be seated.
"No; I am not going to Frank," she explained, "indeed, although I am
forced to go up to London, I don't want him to know I am there, nor
where he can find me for the next day or so. Afterwards I will, of
course, write to him."
Seeing that Olive and Frieda were becoming more mystified than
enlightened by her explanation, and that she was in reality talking more
to herself than to them, Jack hesitated for a moment.
"Perhaps you won't approve what I am planning to do any more than Frank
does," Jack continued, "but Captain MacDonnell has written to ask that I
come to him in France where he may be dying, and I am going. Frank has
said I must not, but I am going anyway. I told him so last night, but I
don't believe he understood I really meant what I said."
Jack spoke without any nervousness or sentimental excitement. She looked
unhappy, but she also looked perfectly determined.
A little too surprised to answer at once, Frieda again studied her
sister's face closely.
It was Olive who protested.
"I hope you won't be angry with me, Jack, and of course I cannot hope to
influence you if Frank cannot; but I don't think you ought to do so
serious a thing without Frank's consent. In any case, please don't go
away without his knowing. You must know that this is not right and that
Frank will probably be very hurt and angry."
Jack bit her lip for an instant without replying; then she said slowly,
as if she fully weighed each word she uttered:
"Of course I realize you are right, Olive, and I am afraid Frank will be
both the things you say, and more than you may realize. I know, also,
that I ought to see him again and tell him definitely just what I intend
to do and why I intend doing it. But candidly, if I do, I fear that
Frank will not permit it. He is not an American husband, and in any
event there would be a scene between us. Frank would not understand at
first that this time I intend to keep to my determination. We might
quarrel and I don't wish that. It would make me even more unhappy and
not save me in any way from Frank's displeasure."
"But, Jack, why do you think it is more important to do what Captain
MacDonnell desires of you than what Frank wishes?" Frieda inquired, in
the cool, matter of fact voice with which she usually, to other people's
surprise, asked the leading question.
Jack did not change color. She returned her sister's look with her old
clear, straightforward gaze.
"I am glad you asked me that, Frieda, dear," she responded, "because I
don't want you or anybody else to think that is true. Nothing is so
important to me as what Frank wishes, only this time I think he is
making a great mistake, and is not being fair. Of course he does not
intend this, and is thinking of me more than of any one else, but at
the same time this is not a matter which I think Frank can decide for
me. His judgment may be right from his point of view, but it isn't from
mine. I have to do what I think is the fair thing, with the hope that I
may be able to persuade Frank to see it the same way later on."
Olive made no response, but it was self evident that Jack had not
convinced her.
Frieda, however, got up in her fluffy morning house gown and making a
soft little rush forward, threw her arms about her sister's neck.
"Go ahead, Jack, then, and no matter what happens I'll stand by you and
swear you've done the right thing to the bitter end. You have been more
right than other people as long as I've known you. I would not pay any
attention to Olive. I told you that Olive was getting to be an old maid
and that old maids always take the men's side. Only you are not being
rash, Jack, are you, so you won't have to suffer uncomfortable
consequences afterwards?" Frieda concluded with a slightly plaintive and
mysterious manner.
"You'll look after my babies for me, won't you, Olive? And Frieda, won't
you try and get Frank into a good humor with me before I come back? I
shall be gone only a few days; perhaps Bryan won't need me at all when I
arrive. I am going up to London within two hours, but I'll get away from
there as soon as I can and take the first channel boat possible. I must
finish packing, but I'll see you again before I start."
As Jack's words and manner were both final, Olive and Frieda then left
her. However, they did not separate but went together into Frieda's
sitting-room.
There Frieda's expression grew as grave as Olive's.
"Somehow I wish Jack wouldn't. Maybe at the last moment she'll see Frank
and change her mind," Frieda suggested, staring out at the winter
landscape with her small nose pressed mournfully against the window pane
like a discontented child. "I don't understand Frank's disposition very
well. He is so different from Henry. Then he has changed a great deal.
We never thought of his being autocratic when Jack married him, but he
seems rather that way to me lately, though he is terribly nice and I am
fond of him. I wouldn't be, though, if he was ever the least bit
disagreeable to Jack. She is much too good for him or any other man.
Isn't it like her to go rushing off in this quixotic fashion, knowing
that lots of people will misunderstand her, just because Captain
MacDonnell would like to feel her presence beside him, if anything has
to happen to him? Well, I suppose that is exactly what I felt when I
rushed to her the moment I left Henry? Only if Frank decides to be
horrid it would be unfortunate for us both to be having trouble with our
husbands at the same time. I suppose people would say it was because we
did not have the proper bringing up when we were children."
"Don't be absurd, Frieda," Olive answered irritably. "Of course, Frank
and Jack are not going to have any serious difficulty. She and Frank are
quite different--"
Frieda swung her pretty self around.
"Don't you ever get tired of saying that to me, Olive Van Mater? Of
course Jack is different, but I don't see that Frank is entirely unlike
other men. Oh, I know you'll be shocked and angry at this and so would
Frank and Jack, if they ever heard; but just the same I think Frank Kent
is a little bit jealous of Jack's friendship for Captain MacDonnell. He
would rather die than confess it to himself. I at least give him the
credit for not knowing it, but it's true just the same."
"I think that is very horrid of you, Frieda."
Frieda shrugged her shoulders.
"Yes, I thought you would think so. Still, I do wish it was a whole week
from today and Jack was safely home again. I am frightened about her
taking such a trip alone; and as for my attempting to get my
brother-in-law into a good humor after he learns that his august
Highness has been disobeyed--well, the task is beyond my humble powers.
In any case, Olive, you can break the news of Jack's departure to him."
But Jack spared both her sister and friend this ordeal. Instead, she
wrote a very sweet letter to her husband, asking his pardon for what she
was doing and confessing that she had no right not to have spoken of her
intention to him again. But would he see that she must do what she
believed to be right, and that Bryan might not be able to wait while
they continued to argue the question?
She left the letter on Frank's bureau.
Not finding Jack in the library that evening, where she usually awaited
his return home, Frank had gone directly upstairs, and when she was also
not in her room, he entered his apartment. The letter caught his
attention at once, but even then Lord Kent had no faintest idea of what
Jack's letter contained. He supposed she had gone out on some errand and
had written to explain that she might be late.
When he had finished reading, he quietly tore her letter into small bits
and flung the pieces upon the fire.
Afterwards, going downstairs to dinner, he said to Olive and Frieda.
"Jack has written me a note telling me that she has gone to France. You
both probably know I did not wish her to go. Please let us not speak of
this matter again."
And though there was really nothing in what Frank said, neither Olive
nor Frieda liked his expression or manner.