Sam Slawson had gone to the Adirondacks in January, personally conducted
by Mr. Blennerhasset, Mr. Ronald's secretary, Mr. Ronald, in the most
unemotional and business-like manner, having assumed all the
responsibilities connected with the trip and Sam's stay at the
Sanatorium.
It was Claire who told Mr. Ronald of the Slawsons' difficulty. How
Martha saw no way out, and still was struggling gallantly on, trying
single-handed to meet all obligations at home and, in addition, send her
husband away.
"That's too much--even for Martha," he observed.
"If I only knew how to get Sam to the mountains," Claire said in a sort
of desperation.
"You have just paved the way."
"How?"
"You have told me."
"You are going to help?"
"Yes."
"O, how beautiful!"
"I am glad that, for once, I have the good fortune to please you."
Claire's happy smile faded. She turned her face away, pretending to
busy herself with Radcliffe's books.
"I see I have offended once more."
She hesitated a moment, then faced him squarely.
"There can be no question of your either pleasing or offending me, Mr.
Ronald. What you are doing for Martha makes me glad, of course, but that
is only because I rejoice in any good that may come to her. I would not
take it upon myself to praise you for doing a generous act, or to blame
you if you didn't do it."
"'Cr-r-rushed again!'" observed Francis Ronald gravely, but with a
lurking, quizzical light of laughter in his eyes.
For an instant Claire was inclined to be resentful. Then, her sense of
humor coming to the rescue, she dropped her heroics and laughed out
blithely.
"How jolly it must be to have a lot of money and be able to do all sorts
of helpful, generous things!" she said lightly.
"You think money the universal solvent?"
"I think the lack of it the universal _in_solvent."
"I hope you don't lay too much emphasis on it."
"Why?"
"Because it might lead you to do violence to your better impulses, your
higher instincts."
"Why should a man think he has the right to say that sort of thing to a
woman? Would you consider it a compliment if I suggested that your
principles were hollow--negotiable? That they were For Sale or To Let,
like an empty house?"
"I suppose most men would tell you they have no use for principle in
their business--only principal."
"And you think women--"
"Generally women have both principle and interest in the business of
life. That's why we look to them to keep up the moral standard. That's
why we feel it to be unworthy of her when a girl makes a mercenary
marriage."
The indignant blood sprang to Claire's cheeks. What business had he to
interfere in her affairs, to warn her against marrying Bob Van Brandt,
assuming that, if she did marry him, it would be only for money. She was
glad that Radcliffe bounded in just then, throwing himself upon her in
his eagerness to tell her all that had befallen him during their long
separation of two hours, when he had been playing on the Mall under
Beetrice's unwatchful eye.
In spite of Martha, Claire had just been on the point of confessing to
Mr. Ronald. He had seemed so friendly, so much less formidable than at
any time since that first morning. But she must have been mistaken, for
here were all the old barriers up in an instant, and with them the
resentful fire in her heart.
Perhaps it was the memory of this conversation that made her feel so ill
at ease with Robert Van Brandt. She could not understand herself. Why
should she feel so uncomfortable with her old friend? She could not help
being aware that he cared for her, but why did the thought of his
telling her so make her feel like a culprit? Why should he not tell her?
Why should she not listen? One thing she felt she knew--if he did tell
her, and she refused to listen, he would give it up. He would not
persist.
She remembered how, as a little girl, she had looked up to him
reverentially as "big Robby Van Brandt." He was a hero to her in those
days, until--he had let himself be balked of what he had started out to
get. If he had only persisted, _in_sisted, who knows--maybe--.
She was sure that if he offered her his love and she refused to accept
it, he would not, like the nursery-rhyme model, try, try again. He would
give up and go away--and in her loneliness she did not want him to go
away. Was she selfish? she wondered. Selfish or no, she could not bring
herself to follow Martha's advice and "let'm get his perposal offn his
chest."
It was early in April before he managed to do it.
She and Radcliffe had gone to the Park. Radcliffe was frisking about in
the warm sunshine, while Claire watched him from a nearby bench, when,
suddenly, Mr. Van Brandt dropped into the seat beside her.
He did not approach his subject gradually. He plunged in desperately,
headlong, heartlong, seeming oblivious to everything and every one save
her.
When, at last, he left her, she, knowing it was for always, was sorely
tempted to call him back. She did care for him, in a way, and the life
his love opened up to her would be very different from this. And yet--
She closed her cold fingers about Radcliffe's little warm ones, and rose
to lead him across the Plaza. She did not wonder at his being so
conveniently close at hand, nor at his unwonted silence all the way
home. She had not realized, until now that it was snapped, how much the
link between this and her old home-life had meant to her. It meant so
much that tears were very near the surface all that day, and even at
night, when Martha was holding forth to her brood, they were not
altogether to be suppressed.
"Easter comes early this year," Mrs. Slawson observed.
"'M I going to have a new hat?" inquired Cora.
"What for do you need a new hat, I should like to know? I s'pose you
think you'll walk up Fifth Avenoo in the church parade, an' folks'll
stare at you, an' nudge each other an' whisper--'Looka there! That's
Miss Cora Slawson that you read so much about in the papers. That one on
the right-hand side, wearin' the French _shappo_, with the white ribbon,
an' the grand vinaigrette onto it. Ain't she han'some?'"
"I think you're real mean to make fun of me!" pouted Cora.
"I got a dollar an' a half for the Easter singin'," announced Sammy.
"Coz I'm permoted an' I'm goin' to sing a solo!"
"Careful you don't get your head so turned you sing outer the other side
o' your mouth," cautioned Martha. "'Stead o' crowin' so much, you better
make sure you know your colic."
"What you goin' to do with your money?" inquired Francie, unable to
conceive of possessing such vast riches.
"I do' know."
"Come here an' I'll tell you," said his mother. "Whisper!"
At first Sammy's face did not reveal any great amount of satisfaction at
the words breathed into his ear, but after a moment it fairly glowed.
"Ain't that grand?" asked Martha.
Sammy beamed, then went off whistling.
"He's goin' to invest it in a hat for Cora as a s'prise, me addin' my
mite to the fun' an' not lettin' him be any the wiser. An' Cora, she's
goin' to get _him_ a pair o' shoes with her bank pennies, an' be this
an' be that, the one thinks he's clothin' the other, an' is proud as
Punch of it, which they're learnin' manners the same time they're bein'
dressed," Martha explained to Claire later.
"I wish you'd tell that to Radcliffe," Claire said. "He loves to hear
about the children, and he can learn so much from listening to what is
told of other kiddies' generosities and self-denials."
Martha shook her head. "There's nothin' worth tellin'," she said. "An'
besides, if I told'm, he might go an' tell his mother or his Uncle
Frank, an' they might think I was puttin' in a bid for a Easter-egg on
my own account. Radcliffe is a smart little fella! He knows a thing or
two--an' sometimes three, an' don't you forget it."
That Radcliffe "knew a thing or two--an' sometimes three," he proved
beyond a doubt to Martha next day when, as she was busy cleaning his
Uncle Frank's closet, he meandered up to her and casually observed:
"Say, you know what I told you once 'bout Miss Lang bein' Mr. Van
Brandt's best girl?"
"Yes."
"Well, she ain't!"
"Why ain't she?"
"I was lookin' out o' the window in my mother's sittin'-room yesterday
mornin', an' when my mother an' my Uncle Frank they came up from
breakfast, they didn't see me coz I was back o' the curtains. My mother
she had a letter Shaw, he just gave her, and when she read it she
clapped her hands together an' laughed, an' my Uncle Frank he said, 'Why
such joy?' an' she said, 'The greatest news! Amy Pelham is engaged to
Mr. Van Brandt!' An' my Uncle Frank, his face got dark red all at once,
an' he said to my mother, 'Catherine, are you 'sponsible for that?' an'
she said, 'I never lifted a finger. I give you my word of honor, Frank!'
An' then my Uncle Frank he looked better. An' my mother she said, 'You
see, he couldn't have cared for Miss Lang, after all--I mean, the way we
thought.' An' he said, 'Why not?' An' she said, 'Coz if he had asked
her, she would have taken him, for no poor little governess is going to
throw away a chance like that. No sensible girl would say _no_ to Bob
Van Brandt with all his 'vantages. She'd jump at him, an' you couldn't
blame her.'
"An' then my mother an' my Uncle Frank _they_ jumped, for I came out
from behind the curtains where I'd been lookin' out, an' I said, 'She
would too say _no_! My Miss Lang, she's sensible, an' one time in the
Park, when Mr. Van Brandt he asked her to take him an' everything he had
(that's what he said! "Take me an' everything I have, an' do what you
want with me!"), Miss Lang she said, "No, Bob, I can't! I wish I could,
for your sake, if you want me so--but--I can't." An' Mr. Van Brandt he
felt so bad, I was sorry. When I thought Miss Lang was his best girl, I
didn't like him, but I didn't want him to feel as bad as that. An' he
went off all alone by himself, an' Miss Lang--'Only I couldn't tell any
more, for my Uncle Frank, he said reel sharp, 'That's enough,
Radcliffe!' But last night he brought me home a dandy boat I can sail on
the Lake, with riggin' an' a center-board, an', O, lots o' things! An'
so I guess he wasn't so very mad, after all."