CHAPTER III
ONE of the most comfortable things about Frederick Mostyn was his almostboyish delight in the new life which New York opened to him. Every phaseof it was so fresh, so unusual, that his Yorkshire existence at MostynHall gave him no precedents and no experiences by which to measureevents. The simplest things were surprising or interesting. He was neverweary of taking those exciting "lifts" to the top of twenty-three storybuildings and admiring the wonderful views such altitudes gave him. Hedid not perhaps comprehend how much he was influenced by the frictionof two million wills and interests; did not realize how they evokedan electric condition that got behind the foreground of existence andstirred something more at the roots of his being than any previousexperience had ever done. And this feeling was especially entrancingwhen he saw the great city and majestic river lying at his feet in thewhite, uncanny light of electricity, all its color gone, its breathcold, its life strangely remote and quiet, men moving like shadows,and sounds hollow and faint and far off, as if they came from a distantworld. It gave him a sense of dreamland quite as much as that ofreality. The Yorkshire moors and words grew dull and dreary in hismemory; even the thought of the hunting field could not lure his desire.New York was full of marvelous novelties; its daily routine, even in thehotel and on the streets, gripped his heart and his imagination; and heconfessed to himself that New York was life at first hand; fresh drawn,its very foam sparkling and intoxicating. He walked from the Park to theBattery and examined all that caught his eye. He had a history ofthe city and sought out every historical site; he even went over toWeehawken, and did his best to locate the spot where Burr and Hamiltonfought. He admired Hamilton, but after reading all about the two men,gave his sympathy to Burr, "a clever, unlucky little chap," he said."Why do clever men hate each other?" and then he smiled queerly as heremembered political enemies of great men in his own day and his owncountry; and concluded that "it was their nature to do so."
But in these outside enthusiasms he did not forget his personalrelations. It took him but a few days to domesticate himself in both theRawdon houses. When the weather drove him off the streets, he found apleasant refuge either with Madam or with Ethel and Miss Bayard. Ethelhe saw less frequently than he liked; she was nearly always with DoraDenning, but with Ruth Bayard he contracted a very pleasant friendship.He told her all his adventures and found her more sympathetic than Madamever pretended to be. Madam thought him provincial in his tastes, andwas better pleased to hear that he had a visiting entry at two goodclubs, and had hired a motor ear, and was learning how to manage it.Then she told herself that if he was good to her, she would buy him oneto be proud of before he returned to Yorkshire.
It was at the Elite Club Bryce Denning first saw him. He came in withShaw McLaren, a young man whose acquaintance was considered as mostdefinitely satisfactory. Vainly Bryce Denning had striven to obtain anynotice whatever from McLaren, whose exclusiveness was proverbial. Whothen was this stranger he appeared so anxious to entertain? His look ofsupreme satisfaction, his high-bred air, and peculiar intonation quicklysatisfied Bryce as to his nationality.
"English, of course," he reflected, "and probably one of the aristocratsthat Shaw meets at his recently ennobled sister's place. He is foreverbragging about them. I must find out who Shaw's last British lion is,"and just as he arrived at this decision the person appeared who couldsatisfy him.
"That man!" was the reply to the inevitable question--"why, he is somerelative of the old lady Rawdon. He is staying at the Holland House,but spends his time with the Rawdons, old and young; the young one is abeauty, you know."
"Do you think so? She is a good deal at our house. I suppose the fellowhas some pretentions. Judge Rawdon will be a man hard to satisfy with ason-in-law."
"I fancy his daughter will take that subject in her own hand. Shelooks like a girl of spirit; and this man is not as handsome as mostEnglishmen."
"Not if you judge him by bulk, but women want more than mere bulk; hehas an air of breeding you can't mistake, and he looks clever."
"His name is Mostyn. I have heard him spoken of. Would you like to knowhim?"
"I could live without that honor"--then Bryce turned the conversationupon a recent horse sale, and a few moments later was sauntering up theavenue. He was now resolved to make up his quarrel with Dora. ThroughDora he could manage to meet Mostyn socially, and he smiled inanticipation of that proud moment when he should parade in his ownfriendly leash McLaren's new British lion. Besides, the introduction toMr. Mostyn might, if judiciously managed, promote his own acquaintancewith Shaw McLaren, a sequence to be much desired; an end he hadpersistently looked for.
He went straight to his sister's apartments and touched the bell quitegently. Her maid opened the door and looked annoyed and uncertain. Sheknew all about the cruelly wicked opposition of Miss Denning's brotherto that nice young man, Basil Stanhope; and also the general attitude ofthe Denning household, which was a comprehensive disapproval of all thatMr. Bryce said and did.
Dora had, however, talked all her anger away; she wished now to befriends with her brother. She knew that his absence from her weddingwould cause unpleasant notice, and she had other reasons, purelyselfish, all emphasizing the advantages of a reconciliation. So she wentto meet Bryce with a pretty, pathetic air of injury patiently endured,and when Bryce put out his hands and said, "Forgive me, Dodo! I cannotbear your anger any longer!" she was quite ready for the next act, whichwas to lay her pretty head on his shoulder and murmur, "I am not angry,Bryce--I am grieved, dear."
"I know, Dodo--forgive me! It was all my fault. I think I was jealous ofyou; it was hard to find that you loved a stranger better than you lovedme. Kiss me, and be my own sweet, beautiful sister again. I shall try tolike all the people you like--for your sake, you know."
Then Dora was charming. She sat and talked and planned and told himall that had been done and all that was yet to do. And Bryce neveronce named either Ethel or Mr. Mostyn. He knew Dora was a shrewd littlewoman, and that he would have to be very careful in introducing thesubject of Mr. Mostyn, or else she would be sure to reach the centraltruth of his submission to her. But, somehow, things happen for thosewho are content to leave their desires to contingencies and accidentals.The next morning he breakfasted with the family and felt himselfrepaid for his concession to Dora by the evident pleasure their renewedaffection gave his father and mother; and though the elder Denningmade no remark in the renewed family solidarity, Bryce anticipated manylittle favors and accommodations from his father's satisfaction.
After breakfast he sat down, lit his cigar and waited. Both his motherand Dora had much to tell him, and he listened, and gave them suchexcellent advice that they were compelled to regret the arrangementsalready made had lacked the benefit of his counsels.
"But you had Ethel Rawdon," he said. "I thought she was everybody rolledinto one."
"Oh, Ethel doesn't know as much as she thinks she does," said Mrs.Denning. "I don't agree with lots of things she advises."
"Then take my advice, mother."
"Oh, Bryce, it is the best of all."
"Bryce does not know about dress and such things, mother. Ethel findsout what she does not know. Bryce cannot go to modistes and millinerswith me."
"Well, Ethel does not pay as much attention as she might--she isalways going somewhere or other with that Englishman, that she says is arelative--for my part, I doubt it."
"Oh, mother!"
"Girls will say anything, Dora, to hide a love affair. Why does shenever bring him here to call?"
"Because I asked her not. I do not want to make new friends, especiallyEnglish ones, now. I am so busy all day, and of course my eveningsbelong to Basil."
"Yes, and there is no one to talk to me. Ethel and the Englishmanwould pass an hour or two very nicely, and your father is very fond offoreigners. I think you ought to ask Ethel to introduce him to us;then we could have a little dinner for him and invite him to our operabox--don't you agree with me, Bryce?"
"
If Dora does. Of course, at this time, Dora's wishes and engagementsare the most important. I have seen the young man at the club with ShawMcLaren and about town with Judge Rawdon and others. He seems a nicelittle fellow. Jack Lacy wanted to introduce me to him yesterday, but Itold him I could live without the honor. Of course, if Dora feelslike having him here that is a very different matter. He is certainlydistinguished looking, and would give an air to the wedding."
"Is he handsome, Bryce?"
"Yes--and no. Women would rave about him; men would think him finicaland dandified. He looks as if he were the happiest fellow in theworld--in fact, he looked to me so provokingly happy that I dislikedhim; but now that Dodo is my little sister again, I can be happy enoughto envy no one."
Then Dora slipped her hand into her brother's hand, and Bryce knew thathe might take his way to his little office in William Street, the adventof Mr. Mostyn into his life being now as certain as anything in thisquestionable, fluctuating world could be. As he was sauntering downthe avenue he met Ethel and he turned and walked back with her to theDenning house. He was so good-natured and so good-humored that Ethelcould not avoid an inquisitive look at the usually glum young man, andhe caught it with a laugh and said, "I suppose you wonder what is thematter with me, Miss Rawdon?"
"You look more than usually happy. If I suppose you have found a wife ora fortune, shall I be wrong?"
"You come near the truth; I have found a sister. Do you know I am veryfond of Dora and we have made up our quarrel?"
Then Ethel looked at him again. She did not believe him. She was surethat Dora was not the only evoker of the unbounded satisfaction inBryce Denning's face and manner. But she let the reason pass; she hadno likely arguments to use against it. And that day Mrs. Denning, with aslight air of injury, opened the subject of Mr. Mostyn's introduction tothem. She thought Ethel had hardly treated the Dennings fairly. Everyonewas wondering they had not met him. Of course, she knew they were notaristocrats and she supposed Ethel was ashamed of them, but, for herpart, she thought they were as good as most people, and if it came tomoney, they could put down dollar for dollar with any multi-millionairein America, or England either, for that matter.
When the reproach took this tone there seemed to be only one thing forEthel to say or to do; but that one thing was exactly what she did notsay or do. She took up Mrs. Denning's reproach and complained that "herrelative and friend had been purposely and definitely ignored. Dora hadtold her plainly she did not wish to make Mr. Mostyn's acquaintance;and, in accord with this feeling, no one in the Denning family hadcalled on Mr. Mostyn, or shown him the least courtesy. She thought thewhole Rawdon family had the best of reasons for feeling hurt at theneglect."
This view of the case had not entered Mrs. Denning's mind. She wasquickly sorry and apologetic for Dora's selfishness and her ownthoughtlessness, and Ethel was not difficult to pacify. There was thenno duty so imperative as the arrangement of a little dinner for Mr.Mostyn. "We will make it quite a family affair," said Mrs. Denning,"then we can go to the opera afterwards. Shall I call on Mr. Mostyn atthe Holland House?" she asked anxiously.
"I will ask Bryce to call," said Dora. "Bryce will do anything to pleaseme now, mother."
In this way, Bryce Denning's desires were all arranged for him, and thatevening Dora made her request. Bryce heard it with a pronounced pout ofhis lips, but finally told Dora she was "irresistible," and as his timefor pleasing her was nearly out, he would even call on the Englishman ather request.
"Mind!" he added, "I think he is as proud as Lucifer, and I may getnothing for my civility but the excuse of a previous engagement."
But Bryce Denning expected much more than this, and he got all that heexpected. The young men had a common ground to meet on, and they quicklybecame as intimate as ever Frederick Mostyn permitted himself to be witha stranger. Bryce could hardly help catching enthusiasm from Mostyn onthe subject of New York, and he was able to show his new acquaintancephases of life in the marvelous city which were of the greatest interestto the inquisitive Yorkshire squire--Chinese theaters and opium dives;German, Italian, Spanish, Jewish, French cities sheltering themselveswithin the great arms of the great American city; queer restaurants,where he could eat of the national dishes of every civilized countryunder the sun; places of amusement, legal and illegal, and the vastunder side of the evident life--all the uncared for toiling of thethousands who work through the midnight hours. In these excursions theyoung men became in a way familiar, though neither of them ever told theother the real feelings of their hearts or the real aim of their lives.
The proposed dinner took place ten days after its suggestion. There wasnothing remarkable in the function itself; all millionaires havethe same delicacies and the same wines, and serve these things withprecisely the same ceremonies. And, as a general thing, the companyfollow rigidly ordained laws of conversation. Stories about publicpeople, remarks about the weather and the opera, are in order; butoriginal ideas or decided opinions are unpardonable social errors.Yet even these commonplace events may contain some element that shallunexpectedly cut a life in two, and so change its aims and desires asto virtually create a new character. It was Frederick Mostyn who inthis instance underwent this great personal change; a change totallyunexpected and for which he was absolutely unprepared. For the peoplegathered in Mrs. Denning's drawing-room were mostly known to him, andthe exceptions did not appear to possess any remarkable traits, exceptBasil Stanhope, who stood thoughtfully at a window, his pale, loftybeauty wearing an air of expectation. Mostyn decided that he wasnaturally impatient for the presence of his fiancee, whose delayedentrance he perceived was also annoying Ethel. Then there was a slightmovement, a sudden silence, and Mostyn saw Stanhope's face flush andturn magically radiant. Mechanically he followed his movement and thenext moment his eyes met Fate, and Love slipped in between. Dora wasthere, a fairy-like vision in pale amber draperies, softened with silklace. Diamonds were in her wonderfully waved hair and round her fairwhite neck. They clasped her belt and adorned the instep of her littleamber silk slippers. She held a yellow rose in her hand, and yellowrosebuds lay among the lace at her bosom, and Mostyn, stupefied by herundreamed-of loveliness, saw golden emanations from the clear pallor ofher face. He felt for a moment or two as if he should certainly faint;only by a miracle of stubborn will did he drag his consciousness fromthat golden-tinted, sparkling haze of beauty which had smitten him likean enchantment. Then the girl was looking at him with her soft, dark,gazelle eyes; she was even speaking to him, but what she said, or whatreply he made, he could never by any means remember. Miss Bayard wasto be his companion, and with some effort and a few indistinct words hegave her his arm. She asked if he was ill, and when a shake of the headanswered the query, she covered the few minutes of his disconcertionwith her conversation. He looked at her gratefully and gathered hispersonality together. For Love had come to him like a two-edged sword,dividing the flesh and the spirit, and he longed to cry aloud andrelieve the sweet torture of the possession.
Reaction, however, came quickly, and with it a wonderful access ofall his powers. The sweet, strong wine of Love went to his brain likecelestial nectar. All the witty, amusing things he had ever heard cametrooping into his memory, and the dinner was long delayed by his finehumor, his pleasant anecdotes, and the laughing thoughts which otherscaught up and illustrated in their own way.
It was a feast full of good things, but its spirit was not able to beartransition. The company scattered quickly when it was over to the operaor theater or to the rest of a quiet evening at home, for at the endenthusiasm of any kind has a chilling effect on the feelings. Noneof the party understood this result, and yet all were, in their way,affected by the sudden fall of mental temperature. Mr. Denning wentto his library and took out his private ledger, a penitential sort ofreading which he relished after moods of any kind of enjoyment. Mrs.Denning selected Ethel Rawdon for her text of disillusion. She "thoughtEthel had been a little jealous of Dora's dress," and Dora said, "It wasone of her surpr
ises, and Ethel thought she ought to know everything.""You are too obedient to Ethel," continued Mrs. Denning and Dora lookedwith a charming demureness at her lover, and said, "She had to beobedient to some one wiser than herself," and so slipped her handinto Basil's hand. And he understood the promise, and with a look ofpassionate affection raised the little jeweled pledge and kissed it.
Perhaps no one was more affected by this chill, critical after-hourthan Miss Bayard and Ethel. Mostyn accompanied them home, but he wasdepressed, and his courtesy had the air of an obligation. He said hehad a sudden headache, and was not sorry when the ladies bid him "goodnight" on the threshold. Indeed, he felt that he must have refused anyinvitation to lengthen out the hours with them or anybody. He wantedone thing, and he wanted that with all his soul--solitude, that he mightfill it with images of Dora, and with passionate promises that either byfair means or by foul, by right or by wrong, he would win the bewitchingwoman for his wife.
The Man Between: An International Romance Page 3