XXV

In parting with the Rev. Mr. Prentiss without personal rancor and yet

with an open avowal of his conviction that Constance would marry him in

the end, Gordon Perry both made an admission and issued a challenge.

His admission on the surface was simply that he recognized the rector's

sincerity. In his own consciousness it went further; he recognized the

validity of the conflict between them to an extent which he had up to

this time failed to perceive, or at least to acknowledge.

The effect of this was to intensify the ardor of his convictions, but

at the same time to cause him as a lawyer to respect his opponent's

position, though he believed it to be utterly false. The interview had

been absorbing to him sociologically, for it had crystallized in his

own mind as concrete realities certain drifts or tendencies of which he

had been aware, but which he had hitherto never formulated in words.

Now that the occasion was come for doing so, the indictment--for it was

that--had risen spontaneously to his lips. It was clear to him, as he

had informed Mr. Prentiss, that there was a direct strife in American

social evolution between those who sought eternal truth through the

free processes of the human spirit and those who accepted it distilled

through an hierarchy.

Just as in his sociological perplexities Gordon, yearning to be a sane

spirit, had abstained from radicalism and had sought relief in concrete

practical activities, he had watched the theological firmament and had

felt his way. If he realized that the Christian organizations which

saw in the human soul a dignity which rejected mediation were merely

holding their own as formal bodies, he comforted himself with the

knowledge that the thousands of men and women who rarely entered the

churches--among them many of the most thoughtful and busiest workers in

the land--were to a unit sympathizers with the creed of soul-freedom

and soul-development. Not merely this; he knew that among orthodox

worshippers the secret belief of the majority of the educated already

rejected as superfluous or antiquated most of the old dogmas. But with

his reverence for religion as an institution, Gordon had no ambition to

outstrip his generation; simply to be in the van of it. There was no

attraction for him in iconoclasm; he craved illumination, yet not at

the expense of rationalism. Now suddenly the practical issue of the

Church's interference with the State, of the Church's imposition on

mankind of a cruel, inflexible ideal, labelled as superior purity, had

become both an immediate and a personal concern. His soul felt seared

as by an iron; all his instincts of sympathy with common humanity, the

helpless victims of an arbitrary aim to preserve the family at the

expense of the blameless individual, were aroused and intensified.

Viewed as a general issue, Gordon felt no question as to the outcome.

Was it not already decided? The Church had never ceased to deplore as

usurpation society's constantly louder claim the world over of the

right to regulate marriage, but without avail. It was only abuse by

the State which had produced a reaction and given sacerdotalism another

chance. But the particular, the personal issue, was a very different

matter. For him it meant everything, and his whole being revolted at

the possibility of losing the great joy of life through such a

misapprehension of spiritual duty on the part of her who, so far as he

was concerned, was the one woman in existence. Yet during the next

weeks following the interview with the clergyman he experienced a sense

of flatness which was almost despondency, for he realized that he had

exhausted his resources. Mr. Prentiss had refused to aid him; on the

contrary, had virtually defied him by expressing a triumphant

conviction that Constance's decision was final. Could it be that she,

whose lucidity of mind he had been wont to admire, would refuse to

understand that the barrier which seemed to separate them was but an

illusion? Surely it was not for the good of the world that true

love--its most vital force--should be starved because the marriage tie

was played fast and loose with by others. And yet he appreciated

apprehensively the subtlety of this plea for the world's good; how

modern it was, and how attractive to woman when made the motive for the

exercise of renunciation. Truly, the priest had argued shrewdly, yet

Gordon refused to admit that Constance could be deceived for long.

That seemed too incompatible with her previous outlook and their

delightful comradeship which had held love in disguise.

He concluded forthwith that his best hope lay in terminating that

comradeship. To resume it would make them brother and sister, a

relation tantalizing to him, and which might be better than nothing to

her, and thus strengthen her resolve. Accordingly, with Spartan

courage, he never visited her. But he chose by his letters and his

gifts to let her know unequivocally that he was waiting for her to

relent--would wait until the end of time. He wrote to her that her

dear image was the constant inspiration of his thoughts, and that he

sighed for the sound of her voice.

While thus he chafed within, and yet endeavored to pursue his work as

earnestly as though he had been able to forget, he received and

accepted an invitation from the Citizens' Club to become a candidate

for the State Assembly. He saw in this both relief and an incentive;

public service would tend to divert and refresh his thoughts, and

opportunity would be afforded him to promote legislation. It would

suit him to become a member of the free parliament of men where,

whatever its abuses and shortcomings, the needs of ordinary humanity

were threshed out, and where true, practical reforms were piece by

piece won from the vested traditions of the past.

At the same time he declared to the members of the committee which

waited on him that in accepting their nomination he was not to be

understood as offering himself to the voters as a denunciatory radical

or as advocating all the so-called grievances aired at the Citizens'

Club. His words were, "I agree to support every measure which I

believe would be an immediate benefit to the community from the

standpoint of justice and public usefulness. If you are content with

that guarded generalization, I shall be proud to serve you; but if you

insist on my playing the demagogue or wearing the livery of the enemies

of constituted society, I must decline the nomination."

"That's all right," asserted Hall Collins, who was the spokesman.

"What we want this trip are two or three new pieces of timber in the

ship of state, repairs we'll call them if you like it so, and we've

chosen you as carpenter for the job. Side with us when you can, and

when you can't we'll know you're honest."

This voiced the sentiment of the Citizens' Club, and it was no

disparagement to the sincerity of its action that those who directed

the club's affairs cherished hopes that the nominee, through his

standing, would gain support from other quarters than the radical

element and thus be more likely to win. Their hopes were justified.

Gordon had a comfortable majority in his district, though it was

understood that he had affiliations with so-called socialists and labor

reformers.

During the first year of his service as a legislator he made no effort

to fix public attention on himself by forensic readiness. He was

studying the methods of procedure and familiarizing himself with the

personnel of the assembly. But though his name did not appear

conspicuously in the press notices--which was a disappointment to a

certain lady constantly on the watch for it--this did not mean that he

failed to attract the attention of his associates. On the contrary,

his thoroughness, patience, and fairness were soon recognized, and when

he rose to speak--which he did more frequently in the later weeks of

the session in relation to bills of importance where the vote was

likely to be close--the members paid attention as though they were glad

to know his reasons. It was perceived that he inclined to the party of

progress rather than to the conservatives, but that he did not hesitate

to turn a cold shoulder towards or to rebuke mere blatherskite or

visionary measures.

A modern legislature has to deal with questions which vitally affect

the development of the body politic; the relations of powerful

corporations to the public and it to them; the demands of toiling

bread-winners for shorter hours of labor and hygienic safeguards, and

the newly fermented strife between the right to hold and the obligation

to share the fruits of the earth and the profits of superior ability

and industry. These were problems which particularly interested

Gordon, and, as one by one they arose for action, he sought to solve

each on its merits without prejudice and with an eye to justice. It

was understood that he would be a candidate for the next assembly, and

in making their forecast the sophisticated referred to him as a coming

leader, one of the men who would control the balance of power by force

of his intelligence and independence. The Citizens' Club was content

with the part which he had played. Several measures in which it was

interested had become law through his advocacy; others, though

defeated, had gained ground; two notable bills conferring valuable

franchises for next to nothing upon plausible capitalists had been

exposed and given their quietus in spite of a persistent lobby; and the

candidate had promised during the next session to press the bill for a

progressive legacy tax, an amendment to the existing legacy tax law,

which would increase the sum levied in progressive ratio with the size

of every estate transferred by death. This was a reform which Hall

Collins and his intimates had at heart, and they had won Gordon to

their side as an enthusiastic supporter of its essential

reasonableness. The bill had been killed in committee for the past two

years; yet the present year the adverse report had been challenged in

the house and had been sustained by a comparatively small majority

after strenuous and excited appeals to what was termed the sober,

conservative sense of the American people. Gordon's speech in behalf

of the measure was listened to with a silence which suggested a desire

for enlightenment. After the debate was over there had been prophecies

that another year it would stand a good chance of passing.

It was toward the close of Gordon's first session in the assembly that

the harrowing death of Loretta's child occurred, and, owing to the

prominence of the parties concerned in the homicide, which was the

first automobile accident in Benham, became town talk. The newspaper

artists illustrated the tragedy with drawings of the red devil in the

act of striking the victim, portraits of everybody concerned, from

Tottie to the apothecary into whose shop she had been carried, and

camera cuts of the obsequies. There were appropriate editorials on the

iniquity of allowing furious engines to be propelled at a rapid rate

through the streets; and sensational conflicting rumors were rife in

the news columns as to the amount by which the repentant

multi-millionaire had sought to idemnify the mother for his

carelessness. Conjecture fixed it at various sums from one thousand to

fifty thousand dollars, and one imaginative scribe conjured up the

information that Tottie was to be replaced as far as possible by the

most beautiful baby which the Howard family could procure by search or

advertisement.

In his genuine distress for the irreparable evil he had wrought Paul

Howard had gone straightway to Loretta to pour out his contrition and

to express a willingness to make such amends as were possible for the

catastrophe. He saw her twice; the first time on the day following the

accident, when she appeared excited but dazed; the second on the

morning after the funeral. Then her condition of mind bordered closely

on exaltation as the result of being the temporary focus of public

attention. She was surrounded by newspapers, and she insisted on

calling Paul's notice to all the reportorial features. With special

pride she made him note a cut which showed that the coffin had been

piled high with the most exquisite flowers--a joint contribution from

Mrs. Wilson and himself. Loretta's own apartment was also a bower of

roses from the same sympathizing source, and the young woman was in her

best dress-festal mourning--as though she were expecting visitors.

Paul found some difficulty in broaching the question of indemnity. He

was in the mood to draw his check for any sum in reason which the

bereaved mother should declare to be satisfactory compensation for her

loss even though it were excessive, so that he might adjust the matter

then and there. He had every intention of being generous; moreover he

knew that all this publicity concerning the accident was injuring his

canvass for the Congressional nomination, and he hoped to create a

reaction in his favor by behaving handsomely. But Loretta, though she

obviously understood what he was driving at, evaded the topic, and

when, in order to clinch matters, he told her in plain terms that he

wished to make her a present and asked her to name the sum, she looked

knowing and suspicious, as much as to say that she knew her rights and

had no intention of committing herself.

Paul, who mistook her contrariness for diffidence, was on the point of

naming an amount which would have made her open her eyes when she

suddenly said with a leer intended to convey the impression of

shrewdness:

"I'm going to talk with my lawyer first. People say it was all your

fault, and that I ought to get a fortune. I've witnesses for my side."

Paul was taken aback. "It was all my fault. I've told you already

that I was entirely to blame. And I'm anxious for you to tell me how

much I ought to pay as damages. So there won't be any need of a lawyer

on either side."

Loretta argued to herself that she was not to be caught by any such

smooth words. She tossed her head.

"I don't know about that. I'm going to get one of the smartest

attorneys in Benham to attend to my case." She waited a moment, then

added triumphantly, believing that her announcement would carry dismay

to her crafty visitor, "It's Gordon Perry, Esq., Counsellor-at-Law."

"Gordon Perry?"

Loretta construed his inflection of astonishment as consternation.

"Yes," she said, "I'm going to consult him this afternoon."

It was on Paul's lips to inform her that Gordon was his lawyer too, but

her uncompromising attitude had produced its natural effect, and he

felt at liberty to practise a little craft in his turn. If he were to

disclose the truth, she would be likely to consult someone else;

whereas Gordon and he could come to terms speedily. So he merely

responded that he knew Mr. Perry to be an excellent attorney, and that

he would be content to abide by his decision.

The final settlement required some diplomacy on Gordon's part on

account of the difference in point of view between the contracting

parties. Loretta had definitely fixed on ten thousand dollars as the

Mecca of her hopes, than which, as she declared to Gordon at their

first interview, she would not accept a cent less; whereas Paul was

disposed to make her comfortable for life by a donation of twenty-five

thousand. He naturally had discussed the subject with his aunt, and

this was the sum which had been agreed on between them as fitting.

Mrs. Wilson was overwhelmed by the disaster; it haunted her thoughts;

and, though she remembered Loretta's original indifference regarding

the child, it seemed to her that the only possible expiation would be a

princely benefaction, such as would thrill the bereaved recipient. But

when she in her turn mentioned the matter to Constance, the latter, who

had been mulling over the insinuation uttered by Dr. Dale, informed her

what he had said. The effect of this intelligence was to strengthen

the purpose which Mrs. Wilson and Paul had already formed to have the

gift tied up so that Loretta could use only the income, and thus be

protected indefinitely against designing companions and herself. But

when Gordon, who had abstained from revealing the extent of Paul's

intended liberality, suggested this arrangement, he encountered sour

opposition from his client. It was manifest that Loretta had set her

heart on being complete mistress of the ten thousand dollars, and that

any curtailment of her power to exhibit it and spend it as she saw fit

would be a bitter disappointment. Either she did not understand, or

declined to understand what was meant by a trust, and plainly she

regarded the proposition as a subterfuge on the part of the donor to

keep his clutch on the money. Gordon endeavored to reason with her and

to show her the disinterested wisdom of the plan, but she shook her

head no less resolutely after he had finished. When her repugnance was

stated to Paul, he bade Gordon pay her the ten thousand dollars in cash

and say nothing about the remainder. He added good-naturedly:

"I suppose it's natural enough that she should like to finger the

money. Let her blow it in as she chooses, and when it's gone I'll

settle an annuity on her."

Loretta came to Constance on the following day with glittering eyes and

exhibited her treasure-trove--a bank book and a roll of bills.

"It's all there," she said. "My lawyer went with me and he saw me hand

it all over except this hundred dollars to the man in the cage. My

lawyer made me count it first. He's smart--Gordon Perry, Esq.,

Counsellor-at-Law. I'm rich now."

"But you will go on nursing just the same, won't you, Loretta? It's

your profession, you know."

Loretta looked non-committal. "Perhaps. But I'm going to take a rest

first and--and buy a few things." She spread out proudly the new crisp

bank bills like a pack of cards. "I've never been able to buy anything

before."

Solicitous as she felt regarding the future, Constance had not the

heart to repress sympathy with this radiant mood. Blood money as it

was, it would, nevertheless, mean many pleasures and comforts to the

pensioner. It was no time for advice or for extracting promises of

good behavior. So in a few words she showed the approach to envy which

was expected of her.

By way of recompense, or because she had been waiting for

congratulations to be paid first, Loretta presently paused, looked

knowing, and giving Constance a nudge whispered oracularly, as one

whose views were now entitled to respectful consideration, "I sounded

him about you, Constance, and it's all right. I could see it is,

though I guess he didn't like much my speaking. And what do you

suppose I told him? That he mustn't get discouraged, for one had only

to look at you to know that you were perfectly miserable without him."

"How dare you tell him such a thing? What right had you to meddle?"

cried Constance, beside herself with anger and humiliation. She

clenched her hands; she wished that she might throw herself upon this

arch, complacent busybody and box her ears. "This is too much!

Besides, it is not true--it is not true."

"True? Of course it's true. And why should you mind its being true if

you love him? I was trying to help you, Constance, so there's no use

in getting mad."

Obviously Loretta on her side was surprised at the reception accorded

her good offices, and at a loss to explain such an abnormal outburst on

the part of her habitually gentle comrade. Perception of this swiftly

checked the current of Constance's wrath, but, as her equanimity

returned, the eyes of her mind became pitilessly fixed on herself.

Perfectly miserable! Was not that indeed the real truth? And true not

only of her but of him? Of him, who had told her that she was

sacrificing the joy of both their lives to a fetich. Loretta's rude

probing had made one thing clear--that it was futile to try longer to

persuade herself that she was happy.

Yet her reply was, "I take you at your word, Loretta, that you meant no

harm. Please remember, however, hereafter that my relations with Mr.

Perry are a subject not to be spoken of to either of us, if you do not

wish to be unkind."

Loretta stared, and laughed as though she suspected that this appeal

was designed to put her off the scent. But she was too much absorbed

in her own altered status to care to bandy words on the matter. Two

days later she disappeared from Lincoln Chambers. But the fact of her

absence awakened no concern in the mind of Constance for several weeks

inasmuch as she had gathered from Mrs. Harrity that Loretta had gone to

another patient. But presently it transpired that she had taken all

her belongings with her, and had made the charwoman promise to make no

mention of that mysterious fact for the time being. Mrs. Harrity could

throw no further light on the lodger's exodus, but admitted that under

the spell of one of the crisp new bills she had asked no questions and

subsequently held her tongue.

Constance immediately imparted her fears to Mrs. Wilson, who instituted

promptly a search through the police authorities. Investigation

disclosed that a woman answering to the description of Loretta had been

seen at some of the restaurants and entertainment resorts of flashy

character in the company of a man with whom there was reason to believe

she had left town. It was found also on inquiry at the bank where here

funds had been placed that the entire deposit had been withdrawn some

three weeks subsequent to the date when the account was opened.

Confronted with this disagreeable intelligence Mrs. Wilson felt aghast.

It occasioned her grievous personal distress that her ward should have

fallen so signally from grace at the very moment when the spirit of

righteousness should have triumphed, and she was displeased to think

that her philanthropic acumen had been at fault. But the elasticity of

her spirit presently prevailed, and it was with an exculpating sense of

recovery and of illumination which was almost breathless that she said

to Constance:

"I fear that we must face the fact that she is a degenerate; one of

those unhappy beings whom the helping hands of society are powerless to

uplift because of their inherent preference for evil."

Upon her lips the word "degenerate" had the sound of the ring of fate

and of modern scientific sophistication withal.