XIII
DERMOTT'S INTERVIEW WITH FRANK AT THE TREVOY
In three days Frank reached New York, where he found mail at the club:from the South; from the Western mines; from women inviting him; as wellas five or six messages by wire or mail from one Philip de Peyster,soliciting an immediate interview. Even in his perturbed and planlessstate these repeated demands made an impression on Frank, and in themorning he telephoned that he was at the Trevoy for the day, and wouldbe pleased to see Mr. de Peyster at his convenience, suggesting theluncheon-hour as a time when both might be free.
Having received no response to his message, at two o'clock he enteredthe dining-room of the Trevoy alone. After ordering, he sat lookingindifferently from one group to another, and noted, with surprise, thatDermott McDermott, with his back toward him, was at the next tablelunching with a number of men, who seemed, to Frank's quick eye, benton conciliation.
There was nothing in the Irishman's appearance to suggest the man offashion whom Frank had known in Carolina. His clothes were of roughtweed, he wore an unpicturesque derby hat, and he had theunconsciousness of self which comes from intense occupation with greataffairs.
Francis listened to the jolly laugh, the quick evasion, the masterfulvoice, leading, cajoling; he knew the men were wanting something fromMcDermott, and realized, as they did not, that it was something theIrishman had determined not to give.
It was of Frank's own home they were speaking, disconnectedly, and in astrange jargon: of Loon Mountain, Way-Home River, road-beds, cost ofproduction, capitalization, bridges.
As he sat wondering at them, their concentration, their unity ofthought, their enthusiasm, by one of those throws of fate, which go fartoward the making of our lives, Dermott's voice came to him clear andscornful.
"I have heard much, I might say overmuch, recently, of family andancestors, and have sometimes wondered what those boasted ancestorsmight think were they permitted to see the ineffective descendants whobear their names with neither achievement nor distinction. Now take myown case. My family was well and bitterly known in Ireland as far backas the ninth century. And at the end it availed only enough money to getme through college and over to America. But I've done some things, andwith the conceit of the self-made man I'm fond of mentioning them.Directly or indirectly, five thousand people depend on me for dailybread. It's helped the world that I've lived. It's not what a man isborn to, I ask. Family? To hell with family! The question is: What haveyou done?"
If the words had been spoken directly to him, they could not have stungFrank more than they did. What had he done? It was Katrine's question,and he recalled the lovable, vibrant little figure on the lodge stepsdemanding of him if he had no desire to work, no wish to take part inthe great constructive affairs of men.
The group at the next table rose with an approval of Dermott's finalwords, and, cigars lighted, were going their several ways, when theIrishman turned and, apparently seeing Frank for the first time, cametoward him with a smile, hand outstretched.
"It's good to see you again, Ravenel!" he cried. "If you're alone I'llsmoke at your table for a minute or two." He waved a farewell to the menwho awaited him. It was a farewell as well as a dismissal. "You've heardthe news of Dulany, I suppose?"
"Only a few days ago. I have been fishing in the Canadian woods. I canscarcely say how sorry I am."
"Ah, well! Ah, well! Ye did all ye could for him," said McDermott,genially, "and it's probably for the best. Everything is, you know," headded. "But I thought you might be interested to hear something of thelittle girl. She has just sailed for France. I saw her off._Transatlantique_--yesterday. She has gone to Paris to study withJosef."
Both men scrutinized each other steadily for a short time, but at thegame they were now playing Francis was by far the keener.
"Mother wrote me nearly six weeks ago about somebody's suggesting such aplan for Miss Dulany. Wait a minute," he continued, feeling in hispockets, "here's her letter now."
He gave his mother's screed to McDermott, determined that the Irishmanshould not suspect the part which he had taken in Katrine's affairs,and was rewarded by seeing McDermott return the letter apparentlyconvinced.
"Nick van Rensselaer! So that's the way of it," he remarked. "Josefsimply wrote her to come, that everything had been arranged by somegreat lady. There were no conditions save that she should write to herunknown benefactor once a month. The money is to be repaid when Katrinebecomes a great singer.
"It's just as well--just as well!" Dermott said, after a silence,peering into the cloud of smoke he had blown ceilingward, as though toforetell the future. "Ye see, Mr. Ravenel, if she will so far honor me,I'm intending some day to marry Katrine Dulany."
There was again the challenge of the eyes, but Frank's training stoodhim well as he raised his brows with genuine surprise. "So?" he said. "Ithink no one suspected in Carolina." "I hope not," McDermott returned."You see, she's but a child; eighteen years! And a man protects that agefrom mistakes, as you, of course, know."
The lids came down over his inscrutable gray-blue eyes as McDermottspoke.
"And, besides, I have had so little to offer her." There was realhumility in the tone now. "When the Almighty gives special attention tothe making of such a person as Katrine Dulany, it behooves the rest ofus mortals to respect His handiwork, doesn't it? I've some poor gifts,some money, a nine-century-old name. There's a title, too, been lyingloose in the family since sixteen hundred and I forget what year. But Iwant her to be sure of herself. As for the study with Josef, it will begood for her, but the idea of Katrine on the stage is an absurdity. I'vea cousin in Paris--the Countess de Nemours, a very great lady, though Isay it as shouldn't," he said, with a laugh, "whom I am hoping tointerest in the little girl. She's no longer young. By-the-way, perhapsyou've met her! Her miniature hangs in the hail of Ravenel House."
"In the hall at Ravenel?" Francis repeated, in genuine surprise.
Dermott nodded. "Under the sconces on the left of the mantel-shelf."
"Ah!" Frank cried. "I remember, a beautiful girl in green. It was foundamong my father's papers only last year. It was a relic of his lifeabroad."
"Yes," Dermott answered, with a curious smile, "that's just what it was.A relic of his life abroad. Well, good-bye and good luck to you," hesaid, rising, and Francis noted anew the grace of movement, thedistinctive pallor, the humor of the great gray eyes as McDermott turnedsuddenly to come back to him. "Forgive me, Ravenel," he said, taking hishat and stick from a self-abasing waiter, "for dragging you into myprivate affairs in the way I have done, but somehow I thought it mightinterest you to know of my love for Katrine," and, humming an old song,he went his devious Celtic way.
"Three seventeen! Three seventeen! Mr. Ravenel! Three seventeen!"Dreaming over McDermott's story, Frank realized that a call-boy wascharging around the dining-room screaming his name and room number. "Mr.Philip de Peyster."
"Hello, old man!" Frank cried, with genuine pleasure, as Mr. de Peystercame forward. "I found so many messages from you, I fear the worst.You're wanting me to stand up with you, I take it."
De Peyster shook his head. "Nothing so bad as that. I _have_ ratheroverwhelmed you with messages and things, haven't I? It's only business,however, not matrimony. I'm sorry, Frank," he added, laughing, "to letyou in for a business talk this way. I know how you hate it. Therefore,I hurry. Ravenel Plantation lies between two large railroads. To getfrom one to another it is necessary to make triangles. There were ahalf-dozen of us here last spring who conceived the idea of building adirect road along the south bank of the Silver Fork, joining the tworoads, like the middle line of the letter H. We believed that the growthin that region of cotton mills, tanneries, and wood manufacturewarranted it. You know Dermott McDermott?" he asked, abruptly.
"Know him!" Frank answered. "The Almighty alone does that, I fancy. I amacquainted with him."
"Whether he got word of the scheme, or whether by pure accident he wentSouth about the time the plans were maturing, no one
knows; but hebought a mica-mine, started a tannery, and secured, on the south side ofthe Silver Fork, a tract of land which lies almost in the centre of ourproposed line. It's but ten or fifteen acres, but it goes from theriver's edge to Owl Mountain, and we are forced to buy from him, at hisown price, tunnel the mountain or go around it, a distance of twenty-twomiles, with two streams to bridge. A cheerful prospect! He is holdingthe piece of land for which he paid ten or twelve hundred dollars,probably, at forty-five thousand! About a week ago I discovered, throughO'Grady, that the title was in your name until quite recently."
"It was," Francis answered, with a queer smile, "it was; but, withunusual business foresight, I sold it to Mr. McDermott myself for elevenhundred dollars. He said he was going to raise eagles on it," heexplained, with a laugh.
The flowers, the lights, and the music of the night he had dined at thelodge came back to him. He recalled a touch on his arm, an upturned facewith wistful gray eyes, and remembered Katrine's warning. As he did so agreat anger came to him at the way he had been used, and his newlyawakened manhood called to him for action. There should be another sideto the matter, he determined. McDermott's overheard misprisement of theSouth! His statement of his intentions toward Katrine! The cut of thewords, "_She is but eighteen, and one protects that age_," came back tohim. There had never come a time in his life before when he would havebeen in the mood to do the thing he now offered.
"Phil," he said, "there is another bank to the Silver Fork River."
"But it is in your own plantation, and we knew the hopelessness of anyproposition to you, Southerner that you are!"
"It would be at least nine miles from Ravenel House," Frank answered,determinedly. "I find I have changed a great deal in my views of thingslately," and here he leaned forward on the table toward his friend. "DePeyster," he said, "let us build the railroad together!"
Katrine: A Novel Page 14