The Beauty and the Bolshevist
Page 6
expression--at onceilluminated and determined--that made him unusual. And the effect ofhis night and morning had been to intensify this, so that now, as hestood a moment in the doorway, he was a very attractive and compellingfigure.
"I came to see my brother, Mr. Cord," he said, simply, "but I hearhe's not here any more. If I could speak to you alone for a fewminutes--" He glanced at Eddie, whom he instantly recognized as theman who had not known how to talk to the woman in the world best worthtalking to.
"Oh, you may speak before Mr. Verriman," said Cord. "He knows thesituation--knows your brother--knows my children--knows about you.In fact, we were just speaking about your paper when you camein. However, I must tell you that Mr. Verriman doesn't approve of_Liberty_. At least, I believe I understood you right, Eddie." And Mr.Cord, having thus assured himself a few minutes to regain his poise,leaned back comfortably in his chair.
"What's wrong with the paper, Mr. Verriman?" said Ben, pleasantly.
Eddie did not love the adventure of mental combat, but he was nocoward. "It seems to me," he said, "that it preaches such radicalchanges in our government that it is seditious. To be frank, Mr.Moreton, I think the government ought to suppress it."
"But we don't break the law. The government can't suppress us."
"Then the laws ought to be changed so that it can."
"That's all we advocate, Mr. Verriman, the changing of the law. Itisn't any more seditious for me to say it than for you to, is it?"
Of course in Eddie's opinion it was--much, much more seditious. Onlysomehow it was a difficult point to make clear, if a person was sowrongheaded he couldn't see it for himself. The point was that he,Eddie, was right in wanting the laws changed and Moreton was wrong.Anyone, it seemed to Eddie, would agree to that, unless he happenedto agree with Moreton beforehand, and those were just the people whoought to be deported, imprisoned, or even perhaps in rare instances,as examples, strung up to lamp-posts. Only each time he tried to putthese very natural opinions in words, they kept sounding wrong andtyrannical and narrow--qualities which Eddie knew he was entirelywithout. In order to counteract this effect, he tried at first tospeak very temperately and calmly, but, unhappily, this only had theeffect of making him sound patronizing to Ben's ears.
In short, it was hardly to be expected that the discussion would beamicable, and it was not. Each man began to be angry in his own way.Eddie shouted a little, and Ben expressed himself with turns of phrasequite needlessly insulting. Ben found Verriman's assumption that theprofits of capital were bound up with patriotism, family life, andthe Christian religion almost as irritating as Verriman found Ben'sassumption that the government of labor as a class would be entirelywithout the faults that have always marked every form of classgovernment.
"And suppose you got socialism," said Eddie, at last, "suppose you diddivide everything up equally, don't you suppose that in a few yearsthe clever, strong, industrious men would have it all in their ownhands?"
"Very likely," said Ben, "but that would be quite a change from thepresent arrangement, wouldn't it?"
Mr. Cord had a narrow escape from laughing out loud, which would havecost him the friendship of the man with whom on the whole he reallyagreed. He thought it was time to interfere.
"This is very interesting, Mr. Moreton," he said, "but I fancy itwasn't about the general radical propaganda that you came to see me."
"No," said Ben, turning slowly. He felt as a dog feels who is draggedout of the fight just as it begins to get exciting. "No, I came to seeyou about this unfortunate engagement of my brother's."
"Unfortunate?" asked Mr. Cord, without criticism.
"I should consider it so, and I understand you do, too."
Cord did not move an eyelash; this was an absolutely new form ofattack. It had certainly never crossed his mind that any objectioncould come from the Moreton family.
"You consider it unfortunate?" said Eddie, as if it would be mereinsolence on Ben's part to object to his brother's marrying anyone.
"Will you give me your reasons for objecting?" said Cord.
Ben smiled. "You ought to understand them," he said, "for I imaginethey're pretty much the same as your own. I mean they are both foundedon class consciousness. I feel that it will be destructive to thethings I value most in David to be dependent on, or associated with,the capitalistic group. Just as you feel it will be destructive toyour daughter to be married to a tutor--a fellow with radical viewsand a seditious brother--"
"One moment, one moment," said Cord; "you've got this all wrong sofar as I'm concerned. I do most emphatically disagree with the radicalpropaganda. I think the radical is usually just a man who hasn't gotsomething he wants."
"And the conservative is a man who wants to keep something he's got,"said Ben, less hostilely than he had spoken to Eddie.
"Exactly, exactly," said Cord. "In ideality there isn't much to choosebetween them, but, generally speaking, I have more respect for the manwho has succeeded in getting something to preserve than for the manwho hasn't got anything to lose."
"If their opportunities were equal."
"I say in general. There is not much to choose between the two types;but there is in my opinion a shade in favor of the conservative onthe score of efficiency, and I am old-fashioned perhaps, but I likeefficiency. If it came to a fight, I should fight on the conservativeside. But this is all beside the point. My objections to your brother,Mr. Moreton, are not objections to his group or class. They arepersonal to him. Damned personal."
"You don't like David?"
"Why, he's an attractive young fellow, but, if you'll forgive mysaying so, Mr. Moreton, I don't think he's any good. He's weak, he'sidle, he entirely lacks that aggressive will that--whether we haveyour revolution or not--is the only bulwark a woman has in this world.Why, Mr. Moreton, you are evidently a very much more advanced anddangerous radical than your brother, but I should not have half theobjection to you that I have to him. There is only one thing thatmakes a difference in this world--character. Your brother hasn't gotit."
For an instant the perfect accuracy of Cord's statements about Davidleft Ben silent. Then he pulled himself together and said, with afirmness he did not wholly feel:
"You hardly do David justice. He may not have great force, but he hastalent, great sweetness, no vices--"
"Oh, quite, quite, quite, quite," said Cord, with a gesture of hislong hand that should somehow have recalled to Ben the motion of ahand he had recently kissed.
"However," said Ben, "there is no use in arguing about ourdifferences. The point is we are agreed that this marriage ought notto be. Let us co-operate on that. Where could I find David? I believeif I could see him I'd have some effect on him."
"You mean you could talk him out of marrying the girl he loves?"
"I might make him see the folly of it."
"Well, I haven't said anything as bad about your brother as that, Mr.Moreton. But you do him injustice. You couldn't talk him out of it,and if you could, she'd talk him right back into it again. But thereis one thing to consider. I understand you make him an allowance. Howabout stopping that?"
"I wouldn't consider that for a moment," said Ben, with more temperthan he had so far shown. "I don't make him that allowance so thatI can force him to do what I think best. I give it to him because heneeds it. I don't believe in force, Mr. Cord."
"Oh yes, you do, Mr. Moreton."
"What do you mean?"
"You were proposing to use a much more pernicious kind of force whenyou proposed talking the boy out of his first love. However, to becandid with you, I must tell you that the issue is dead. They ran offyesterday and were married in Boston."
There was a short silence and then Ben moved toward the door.
"Won't you stay to lunch?" said Mr. Cord, politely.
"Thank you, no," said Ben. He wanted to be alone. Like all dominatingpeople who don't get their own way in an altruistic issue, hisfeelings were deeply wounded. He took his hat from the disapprovingTomes, and went out to the sea to
think. He supposed he was going tothink about David's future and the terrible blow his paper had justreceived.
As the door closed behind him, Eddie turned to Mr. Cord with a worldof reproach in his eyes.
"Well," he said, "I must say, sir, I think you were unnecessarilygentle with that fellow."
"Seemed to me a fine young fellow," said Mr. Cord.
"Asking him to lunch," said Eddie.
"I did that for Crystal," replied Cord, getting up and