THE LEADING MAN
"I saw you with Cap'n Amazon going to church this morning," Lawford
said. "To the First Church, I presume?"
"And you?"
"Oh, I drove the folks over to Paulmouth. There is an Episcopal Church
there and the girls think it's more fashionable. You don't see many
soft-collared shirts among the Paulmouth Episcopalians."
There spoke the "native," Louise thought; and she smiled.
"It scarcely matters, I fancy, which denomination one attends. It is
the spirit in which we worship that counts."
He gazed upon her seriously. "You're a thoughtful girl, I guess. I
should not have looked for that--in your business."
"In my business? Oh!"
"We outsiders have an idea that people in the theatrical line are a
peculiar class unto themselves," Lawford went on.
"But I----" On the point of telling him of his mistake she hesitated.
He was unobservant of her amusement and went on with seriousness:
"I guess I'm pretty green after all. I don't know much about the
world--your world, at least. I love the sea, and sailing, and all the
seashore has to offer. Sometimes I'm out here alone all day long."
"But what is it doing for you?" she asked him rather sharply. "Surely
there can be very little in it, when all's said and done. A man with
your intelligence--you have evidently had a good education."
"I suppose I don't properly appreciate that," he admitted.
"And to really waste your time like this--loafing longshore, and
sailing boats, and--and driving an automobile. Why! you are a regular
beach comber, Mr. Tapp. It's not much of an outlook for a man I should
think."
She suddenly stopped, realizing that she was showing more interest than
the occasion called for. Lawford was watching her with smoldering eyes.
"Don't you think it is a nice way to live?" he asked. "The sea is
really wonderful. I have learned more about sea and shore already than
you can find in all the books. Do you know where the gulls nest, and
how they hatch their young? Did you ever watch a starfish feeding? Do
you know what part of the shellfish is the scallop of commerce? Do you
know that every seventh wave is almost sure to be larger than its
fellows? Do you----"
"Oh, it may be very delightful," Louise interrupted this flow of badly
catalogued information to say. He expressed exactly her own desires.
Nothing could be pleasanter than spending the time, day after day,
learning things "at first hand" about nature. For her father--and of
course for her--to do this was quite proper, Louise thought. But not
for this young fisherman, who should be making his way in the world.
"Where is it getting you?" she demanded.
"Getting me?"
"Yes," she declared with vigor, yet coloring a little. "A man should
work."
"But I'm not idle."
"He should work to get ahead--to save--to make something of himself--to
establish himself in life--to have a home."
He smiled then and likewise colored. "I--I------A man can't do that
alone. Especially the home-making part."
"You don't suppose any of these girls about here--the nice girls, I
mean--want a man who is not a home provider?"
He laughed outright then. "Some of them get that kind, I fear, Miss
Grayling. Mandy Card, for instance."
"Are you planning to be another Milt Baker?" she responded with scorn.
"Oh, now, you're hard on a fellow," he complained. "I'm always busy.
And, fixed as I am, I don't see why I should grub and moil at
unpleasant things."
Louise shrugged her shoulders and made a gesture of finality. "You are
impossible, I fear," she said and put aside--not without a secret
pang--her interest in Lawford Tapp, an interest which had been
developing since she first met the young man.
He allowed the subject to lapse and began telling her about the ledges
on which the rock cod and tautog schooled; where bluefish might be
caught on the line, and snappers in the channels going into the Haven.
"Good sport. I must take you out in the _Merry Andrew_," he said.
"She's a peach of a sailer--and my very own."
"Oh! do you own the sloop, Mr. Tapp?"
"I guess I do! And no money could buy her," he cried with boyish
enthusiasm. "She's the best lap-streak boat anywhere along the Cape.
And _sail_!"
"I love sailing," she confessed, with brightening visage.
"Say! You just set the day--so it won't conflict with your work--and
I'll take you out," he declared eagerly,
"But won't it conflict with your duties?"
"Humph!" he returned. "I thought your idea was that I didn't have any
duties. However," and he smiled again, "you need not worry about that.
When you want to go I will arrange everything so that I'll have a free
day."
"But not alone, Mr. Tapp?"
"No," he agreed gravely. "I suppose that wouldn't do. But we can
rake up a chaperon somewhere."
"Oh, yes!" and Louise dimpled again. "We'll take Betty Gallup along.
She's an able seaman, too."
"I _bet_ she is!" ejaculated Lawford with emphasis.
He handled the boat with excellent judgment, and his confidence caused
Louise to see no peril when they ran almost on the edge of the
maelstrom over Gull Rocks. "I know this coast by heart," he said. "I
believe there's not one of them sailing out of the Haven who is a
better pilot than I am. At least, I've learned _that_ outside of
textbooks," and he smiled at her.
Louise wondered how good an education this scion of a Cape Cod family
really had secured. The longer she was in his company the more she was
amazed by his language and manners. She noted, too, that he was much
better dressed to-day. His flannels were not new; indeed they were
rather shabby. But the garments' original cost must have been
prohibitive for a young man in his supposed position. Very likely,
however, they had been given him, second-hand, by some member of the
family for which he worked.
The more she saw of him, and the more she thought about it, the greater
was Louise's disappointment in Lawford Tapp. She was not exactly sorry
she had come out with him in the motor boat; but her feeling toward him
was distinctly different when she landed, from that which had been
roused in her first acquaintance.
It was true he was not an idle young man--not exactly. But he betrayed
an ability and a training that should already have raised him above his
present situation in the social scale, as Louise understood it. She
was disappointed, and although she bade Lawford Tapp good-bye
pleasantly she was secretly unhappy.
The next morning she chanced to need several little things that were
not to be found in Cap'n Abe's store and she went uptown in quest of
them. At midday she was still thus engaged, so she went to the Inn for
lunch.
Gusty Durgin spied her as she entered and found a small table for
Louise where she would be alone. A fat woman whom Gusty mentioned as
"the boss's sister, Sara Ann Whipple," helped wait upon the guests.
Several of the business men of the town, as well as the guests of the
Inn, took their dinners there.
To one man, sitting alone at a table not far distant, Louise saw that
Gusty was particularly attentive. He was typically a city man; one
could not for a moment mistake him for a product of the Cape.
He was either a young-old or an old-young looking man, his hair graying
at the temples, but very luxuriant and worn rather long. A bright
complexion and beautifully kept teeth and hands marked him as one more
than usually careful of his personal appearance. Indeed, his character
seemed to border on that of the exquisite.
His countenance was without doubt attractive, for it was intelligent
and expressed a quiet humor that seemed to have much kindliness mixed
with it. His treatment of the unsophisticated Gusty, who hovered about
him with open admiration, held just that quality of good-natured
tolerance which did not offend the waitress but that showed discerning
persons that he considered her only in the light of an artless child.
"D'you know who that is?" Gusty whispered to Louise when she found time
to do so. The plump girl was vastly excited; her hands shook as she
set down the dishes. "That's Mr. Judson Bane."
"Yes. I chanced to meet Mr. Bane once, as I told you," smiled Louise,
keeping up the illusion of her own connection with the fringe of the
theatrical world.
"And Miss Louder and Miss Noyes have come. My, you ought to see
_them_!" said the emphatic waitress. "They've got one o' them
flivvers. Some gen'leman friend of Miss Noyes' lent it to 'em.
They're out now hunting what they call a garridge for it. That's a
fancy name for a barn, I guess. And dressed!" gasped Gusty finally.
"They're dressed to kill!"
"We shall have lively times around Cardhaven now, sha'n't we?" Louise
commented demurely.
"We almost always do in summer," Gusty agreed with a sigh. "Last
summer an Italian lost his trick bear in the pine woods 'twixt here and
Paulmouth and the young 'uns didn't darest to go out of the houses for
a week. Poor critter! When they got him he was fair foundered eating
green cranberries in the bogs."
"Something doing," no matter what, was Gusty's idea of life as it
should be. Louise finished her meal and went out of the dining-room.
In the hall her mesh bag caught in the latch of the screen door and
dropped to the floor. Somebody was right at hand to pick it up for her.
"Allow me." said a deep and cultivated voice. "Extremely annoying."
It was Mr. Bane, hat in hand. He restored the bag, and as Louise
quietly thanked him they walked out of the Inn together. Louise was
returning to Cap'n Abe's store, and she turned in that direction before
she saw that Mr. Bane was bound down the hill, too.
"I fancy we are fellow-outcasts," he said. "You, too, are a visitor to
this delightfully quaint place?"
"Yes, Mr. Bane," she returned frankly. "Though I can claim
relationship to some of these Cardhaven folk. My mother came from the
Cape."
"Indeed? It is not such a far cry to Broadway from any point of the
compass, after all, is it?" and he smiled engagingly down at her.
"You evidently do not remember me, Mr. Bane?" she said, returning his
smile. "Aboard the Anders Liner, coming up from Jamaica, two years ago
this last winter? Professor Ernest Grayling is my father."
"Indeed!" he exclaimed. "You are Miss Grayling? I remember you and
your father clearly. Fancy meeting you here!" and Mr. Bane insisted on
taking her hand. "And how is the professor? No need to ask after your
health, Miss Grayling."
As they walked on together Louise took more careful note of the actor.
He had the full habit of a well-fed man, but was not gross. He was
athletic, indeed, and his head was poised splendidly on broad
shoulders. Louise saw that his face was massaged until it was as pink
and soft as a baby's, without a line of close shaving to be detected.
The network of fine wrinkles at the outer corners of his eyes was
scarcely distinguishable. That there was a faint dust of powder upon
his face she noted, too.
Judson Bane was far, however, from giving the impression of effeminacy.
Quite the contrary. He looked able to do heroic things in real life as
well as in the drama. And as their walk and conversation developed,
Louise Grayling found the actor to be an interesting person.
He spoke well and without bombast upon any subject she ventured on.
His vocabulary was good and his speaking voice one of the most pleasing
she had ever heard.
So interested was Louise in what Mr. Bane said that she scarcely
noticed Lawford Tapp who passed and bowed to her, only inclining her
head in return. Therefore she did not catch the expression on
Lawford's face.
"A fine-looking young fisherman," observed Mr. Bane patronizingly.
"Yes. Some of them are good-looking and more intelligent than you
would believe," Louise rejoined carelessly. She had put Lawford Tapp
aside as inconsequential.