BARBARA'S RETURN
When Lister had gone Cartwright returned to the tea-table and looked at
Hyslop, who got up and went off. Hyslop did not altogether want to go
but he had cultivated discretion, and it was plain his step-father meant
to get rid of him. Then Cartwright gave his wife a sympathetic glance.
Mrs. Cartwright was calm, but when she put some cups together her hand
shook.
"Leave the things alone," said Cartwright in a soothing voice. "Vernon's
plot was clever."
"Do you think Harry planned that Lister should tell us?"
"It looks like that," said Cartwright dryly. "He was keen about bringing
his friend over, but was cautious enough to wait until the fellow began
to know us. When he talked about Lister's adventures I wondered where he
was leading. The other was puzzled, and didn't see until near the end."
"But why didn't Harry, himself, tell us all he knew?"
"Vernon's a good sort and more fastidious than one thinks; he saw he'd
be forced to venture on rather awkward ground, and there was some doubt.
He wanted us to weigh the story and judge if the clew he gave us ought
to be followed. This was not Vernon's job, although I think he was
satisfied."
"But you are satisfied?"
"Yes," said Cartwright "Lister's portrait of Barbara was lifelike and
his own was pretty good. I think he drew himself and her better than he
knew, and perhaps it's lucky we have to deal with fellows like these. A
good Canadian is a fine type. However, we must bring Barbara back."
"Ah!" said Mrs. Cartwright, "I want her back! One must hide one's hurt,
but to hide it is hard--" She pulled herself up and added: "Will you
send a cablegram?"
"I think not. The girl is proud and as wild as a hawk. She thinks she
has humiliated us, and if she's startled, she'll probably run away."
"You don't think she has humiliated us?" Mrs. Cartwright said in a
hesitating voice.
Cartwright smiled. "It's plain that her escapade must not be talked
about but we can trust these Canadians and I know Barbara. In a sense,
Lister's narrative wasn't necessary. The girl is headstrong, but I was
persuaded she would find the rascal out. Looks as if she did so soon
after they got on board the cars, and I imagine Shillito had an awkward
few moments; Barbara's temper is not mild. Then it's important that she
was desperately anxious to escape from him. There's no more to be said."
Mrs. Cartwright gave him a grateful look. Her husband had never failed
her and he had justified her trust again.
"If you don't send a cablegram, how shall we get Barbara back?"
"I'll go myself," said Cartwright "If she can't be persuaded, I'll bring
her by force. It's lucky I can charge the cost to the office. The new
wheat is coming down to Montreal, and the _Conference_ people have a
plan to get it all, but I expect to beat them and engage some cargo for
our boats before the St. Lawrence freezes. However, since I'm going, I
must get to work."
He started for the house and met his step-son at the porch. Mortimer
looked thoughtful, and held an unlighted cigarette. Cartwright studied
him with scornful amusement.
"Have you been speculating about the proper way of handling an awkward
situation?"
"I have been talking to Grace," Hyslop replied in an even voice.
"I rather think Grace has been talking to you, but expect you agreed.
You have, no doubt, decided the best plan is to leave your headstrong
sister alone?"
"We did agree about something like that," said Hyslop coolly, although
when Cartwright fixed his eyes on his he turned his head. "We thought if
Barbara were given an allowance, she might, for example, stay with the
Vernons. Grace's notion--"
Cartwright's mouth got hard and his mustache bristled. When he was moved
his urbanity vanished and his talk was very blunt.
"We'll let Grace's notion go. My form is not my step-children's, but I
try to moderate my remarks about women. We'll admit Grace is a woman,
although I sometimes doubt. Anyhow, you are not a man; you haven't a
drop of warm blood in your veins! You're a curled and scented fine
lady's lap-dog pup!"
"I don't see much use in talking about my qualities, sir."
"You don't see," Cartwright agreed. "That's your drawback! You see
nothing that's rude and human; you're afraid to look. All that's obvious
is, Barbara must not come home to throw an awkward reflection on Grace's
Puritanical virtue. People might find out something and talk? If anybody
talks while I'm about, I'll ram the implication down his throat! You
don't see, or perhaps you don't mind, the drawbacks to separating
Barbara from her mother and banishing her from home? She's trustful,
rash, and fiery, and not a statue like Grace. Anyhow, Barbara is coming
back, and if you don't approve, I'll expect you to be resigned. Now get
off before I let myself go!"
Hyslop went. One gained nothing by arguing with a brute like Cartwright,
and since Mrs. Cartwright's infatuation for her husband could not be
disturbed Hyslop knew he must acquiesce. Cartwright, rather braced by
the encounter, went to the library and wrote some letters to Liverpool.
A few days afterwards, he packed his trunk and was driven to the station
in Mrs. Cartwright's car. Grace got up an hour earlier than usual in
order to see him off, and when she brought his scarf and gloves
Cartwright accepted her ministrations with politeness. Although he knew
she disapproved of him, she thought her duty was to do things like this,
and he played up.
When the throb of the car was getting faint she met Mortimer going to
the lake. He stopped and looked up at the valley, which was streaked by
a thin line of dust.
"For three or four weeks we'll be undisturbed," he said. "I admit I like
Carrock better when my step-father is away."
"Barbara's coming back with him," Grace remarked. "In some ways, her
return will be awkward, but perhaps she ought to come."
Mortimer gave her a surprised glance. "This was not your view!"
"Oh, well, I have been thinking. Barbara is rash and very young. In
Canada, she would be free from all control, and one must not weigh
drawbacks against one's duty. Perhaps Cartwright takes the proper line,
although of course it costs him nothing. You didn't tell me what he said
the other evening."
Mortimer shrugged. "As a rule, my step-father's remarks won't bear
re-stating. He was a little franker than usual."
"He _is_ coarse," said Grace. "One feels he gets coarser, as if his
thoughts had begun to react on his body. There is a link, and, of
course, with his habits--"
"I rather think you mean with his appetites. Cartwright does not often
let himself go when he's at home, but when he is away he's another man."
Grace looked thoughtful. "One likes restraint. All the same, I sometimes
think rude, primitive people have a vigor we have not. It's strange, but
indulgence seems to go with force. One feels our friends are rather
_bloodless_--I'm using Cartwright's phrase."
"Our Canadian friends are not bloodless. I expect you have remarked that
Barbara's the type they like."
"She has an appeal for men like that," Grace agreed, and mused.
It was hard to own, but she began to see that when she thought Barbara
ought to stop in Canada she was inspired by jealousy. Barbara's charm
for men was strong and when she was about they left Grace alone. Still
she had a vague perception that her sister's charm was not altogether
physical. She herself had a classical beauty that did not mark the
younger girl; it looked as if Barbara had attractive qualities that were
not hers. Lister, for example, was not a brute like Cartwright, but it
was plain that Barbara had attracted him. Grace approved his soberness
and frank gravity; and then she pulled herself up. She must not be
jealous about her sister.
"Cartwright's power is stronger because he does not use our money,"
Mortimer resumed. "I don't know if it was cleverness or scruples that
urged him to refuse. All the same, if he were forced to ask mother's
help, his influence would be less."
"But his needing help is not probable. He's managing owner of the line."
Mortimer smiled. "He gets a commission on the boat's earnings, but does
not hold many shares. Then the fleet is small and the boats don't earn
very much. Things are not going smoothly and some shareholders would
like to put Cartwright off the Board. At the last meeting, one fellow
talked about the need for fresh blood. However, I expect Cartwright's
clever enough, to keep off the rocks, and when one can't get rid of a
drawback one must submit."
Lighting a cigarette, he started for the lake and Grace returned
thoughtfully to the house. Mortimer hated Cartwright and Grace admitted
he had some grounds. Although her brother was indolent and
philosophical, he did not forget. Rude disputes jarred him, but if by
some chance he was able to injure the other, Grace thought he would do
so. Grace, herself, strongly disapproved of Cartwright. All the same, he
was her step-father and she had tried to cultivate her sense of duty.
She was prejudiced, cold, and censorious, but she meant to be just and
did not like Mortimer's bitterness.
Cartwright was occupied for some time at Montreal, and the birch leaves
had fallen when he returned. The evening was dark, and chilly mist
rolled down the dale, but a big fire burned in the hall at Carrock and
tall lamps threw a cheerful light on the oak paneling. A flooded beck
roared in the hollow of a ghyll across the lawn and its turmoil echoed
about the hall. Mrs. Cartwright stood by the fire, Grace moved
restlessly about, and Mortimer appeared to be absorbed by the morning's
news.
"I wish you would sit down, mother," he said presently. "You can hear
the car, you know, and the train is often late."
For a few minutes Mrs. Cartwright did not move, and then she started and
fixed her eyes on the door. She heard an engine throb, there was a noise
in the porch, and a cold wind blew into the room. Then the door opened
and Cartwright entered, shaking the damp from his fur coat. He turned,
beckoning somebody behind, and Barbara came out from the arch. Her face
was flushed, her eyes were hard, and she stopped irresolutely. Mortimer
advanced to take the coat she carried and Grace crossed the floor, but
Barbara waited, as if she did not see them. Then her strained look
vanished, for Mrs. Cartwright went forward with awkward speed and took
her in her arms.
Cartwright saw his wife had forgotten him, and turning to the others
with a commanding gesture, drove them and the servants from the hall.
When they had gone he gave Mrs. Cartwright a smile.
"I've brought her back," he said. "Not altogether an easy job. Barbara's
ridiculous, but she can fight."
He went off and Barbara clung to her mother. She was shaking and her
breath came hard.
"You were ridiculous," said Mrs. Cartwright in a gentle voice. "I expect
you were very obstinate. But he was kind?"
"He's a dear; I love him!" Barbara replied. "He understands everything.
I think he ought to have stopped at Liverpool; the secretary met us and
talked about some business, but if he hadn't come with me, I could not
have borne--"
She stopped, and resting her head on Mrs. Cartwright's shoulder, began
to cry. Mrs. Cartwright said nothing, but kissed and soothed her with
loving gentleness.
When, some time afterwards, Barbara came down the stairs that occupied
one side of the hall she was composed, but tea by the fire was something
of a strain. It was plain that Grace's careless talk was forced and
Mortimer's efforts to keep on safe ground were marked. Now and then
Cartwright's eyes twinkled and Barbara thought she knew why he sometimes
made a joke that jarred the others. When the meal was over he took them
away.
"I imagine your sister understands Grace and you are willing to take her
back and forget the pain she gave you," he said to Hyslop. "Your
handling of the situation was tactful and correct, but you can leave her
to her mother."
Mrs. Cartwright stopped with Barbara, who brought a footstool to the
hearthrug, and sitting down leaned against her knee.
"I have been an obstinate, selfish, romantic fool!" she broke out.
Mrs. Cartwright touched her hair and smiled, for she felt comforted.
This was the tempestuous Barbara she thought she had lost.
"My dear!" she said. "It's not important since you have come back.''
"I oughtn't to have come back. If you had not sent father, I would not
have come. He's determined, but he's gentle. You know he sympathizes."
"Although I wanted him to go, I did not send him," Mrs. Cartwright
replied. "He went because he loves you, but we can talk about this
again." She hesitated for a moment and went on: "It was not long, I
think, before you found Shillito was a thief? Mr. Lister's story
indicated this."
A wave of color came to Barbara's skin, but she looked up and her eyes
flashed.
"At the beginning, I did not know he was a thief; I found out he was a
cunning brute. Afterwards, when I read about his escape in the
newspapers, I rather wished the trooper who shot at him had not
missed--" She shook with horror and anger and it was a moment or two
before she resumed: "I can't tell you all, mother. I was frightened, but
anger gave me pluck. He said I must stick to him because I could not go
back. I think I struck him, and then I ran away. People were going to
their berths in the Pullman and he durst not use force. When I got to
the car platform and was going to jump off I saw Mr. Lister--but he has
told you--"
Mrs. Cartwright nodded, for she was satisfied.
"My dear," she said, "it's done with. Still I wonder why you were
willing to leave us."
"Sometimes I wonder. To begin with, I have owned I was a fool; but
things were dreary and I wanted a thrill. Then I had begun to feel
nobody at home wanted me. Father and you were kind, but he seemed to
think me an amusing, willful child. Grace always disapproved, and
Mortimer sneered. They knew I was not their sort and very proper people
are cruel if you won't obey their rules. I hated rules; Grace's
correctness made me rebel. Then Louis came and declared I was all to
him. He was handsome and romantic, and I was tired of restraint. I
thought I loved him, but it was ridiculous, because I hate him now.
Mortimer's a prig, but Louis is a brute!"
Mrs. Cartwright sighed. She liked tranquillity and the girl's passion
jarred. She tried to soothe her, and presently Barbara asked in a level
voice: "Where is Harry Vernon?"
"He went to town a few days since."
"When he knew I would soon arrive? His going is significant. I shall
hate Harry next!"
"You must not be unjust. I imagine he thought to meet him would
embarrass you."
"It would have embarrassed me, but Harry would not have known," Barbara
declared. "If I have been a fool, I can pay. Still I ought to have
stayed in Canada. Father's obstinate and I wanted to come home, but
things will be harder than at Montreal."
Mrs. Cartwright kissed her. "My poor child, the hurt is not as deep as
you think. We will try to help you to forget."