CHAPTER IV
THE WOMAN WHO GRASPED
The Mastersons' apartment had, like many such apartments, a charminglittle foyer. It was lighted by a jade-green lamp, swung in bronzechains delicately green from the tinting of time; and the notes ofbronze and dull jade were carried through all the furnishings, throughleather and tapestry and even a great, dragon-clasped Chinese vase. Butthose greenish lights were not always becoming to visitors. When TonyAdriance entered the foyer that evening they were so unbecoming to himthat the maid privately decided he was ill. Her master not infrequentlycame home with that worn look about the eyes and mouth. She wondered ifMr. Adriance gambled.
None of the other guests had arrived. Indeed, it was not yet time. Theclink of glass and bustle of servants in the dining-room alone told ofthe coming event in hospitality. Hospitality? Tony Adriance stood still,arrested in his movement toward the drawing-room; the sick distaste ofall the last weeks finally culminated in paralysis before the prospectof the farce he was expected to play out, with his unconscious host asspectator.
"I--am not ready," he found himself temporizing with the maid. Hisglance fell upon a desk and prompted him. "I have forgotten an importantletter; I will write it before I go in. Don't wait; I know my way."
She obeyed him. Of course he had nothing to write, but he fumbled for asheet of paper and picked up a pen. He was awake at last to the enormityof his presence here as a guest; before he had glimpsed it, now he sawit, stripped naked.
He could not go on. There was no reason why the conviction should havecome to him at this moment, but it did so. As he sat there, thatknowledge rose slowly to full stature before his vision like an actualfigure reared in the path he had been following. It was no longer aquestion of Lucille's desires or his own; he could not do this thing.
He was not accustomed to intricate windings of thought, or toself-analysis. He hardly understood, as yet, what was aroused in him, orwhy. But he knew that he must act; that his time of passive drifting wasended. Once Lucille had reproached him with cowardice. To-day, the girlin the pavilion had innocently brought the charge again. And the girlwas right; it was cowardly to let a wrong grow and grow. Masterson'sfriend in Masterson's house! Adriance dropped the pen his clenchingfingers had bent, and stood up.
The maid had gone back to that centre of approaching activities, thekitchen. Alone, Adriance went down the corridor to the drawing-room.
Mrs. Masterson was alone there, moving some introduced chairs into lessconspicuous situations. The alien chairs were covered in rose-color andmarred the clouded-blue effect of the room. She pushed them about with avicious force, as though she hated the inanimate offenders; herexpression was sullen and fretful.
That expression altered too quickly, when she saw Adriance standing onthe threshold. He caught the skilful change that transformed it intowinning plaintiveness.
"You, Tony?" she greeted him, advancing to give him her hand. "I am soglad it was no one else. _You_ know how I must contrive and make thebest of what little I have. How I loathe this cramped place, andbringing chairs from bed-chambers to have enough, and all pinching----!"She glanced about her with a flare of contempt, her smooth scarlet liplifting in a sneer.
Adriance slowly looked over the room, not very large, perhaps, yetscarcely cramped; made lovely by opalescent lamps and fragrant by theperfume of roses set in high, slender vases of rock-crystal. All onewall was smothered in the silken warmth of a Chinese rug, against whoseblue was lifted the creamy whiteness of an ivory elephant quaintlycarved and poised on its pedestal. Even to his eyes nothing herewarranted discontent.
"I thought this very pretty," he dissented. "I thought Masterson haddone things very well, here."
"Well enough, for a nook in a house; not for the house," she retorted."I hate living in apartments. I always have wanted stairs; wide, shiningstairs down which I would pass to cross broad rooms!"
She drew a thirsty breath. In the gleaming gown which left uncovered asmuch of her beauty as an indulgent fashion allowed, her large light eyesavid, her yellow head thrown slightly forward as she looked up at theman, she was a vivid and unconscious embodiment of greed. Not thepitiful greed of necessity, but the greed which, having much, covetsmore. As if he shared her mind, Adriance knew that she pictured herselfdescending the stairs in his father's house gowned and jewelled as Mrs.Tony Adriance could be and Lucille Masterson could not.
He was not aware of the change in his own face until he saw itsreflection in the sudden alarm and question clouding hers. He answeredher expression, then, compelling his voice to hold its low evenness ofspeech with the inborn distaste of well-bred modern man for betrayedemotion.
"That is it," he interpreted. "That is why you would marry me and leaveMasterson. You want more than he can give you. If he had as much to giveas I have, it would not matter what he did. You would bear with him.Perhaps you have been bearing with me."
"Tony!" she stammered.
"It is quite true. I have been a solemn fool. I have been nerving myselfto lay down my self-respect without flinching, because I believed that Ihad led you to count upon me; and all the while you were counting uponwhat I owned."
She gathered her forces together after the surprise.
"Rather severe, Tony, because I dislike expensive tenement life!" shecommented, with careful irony. Turning aside, she laid her lace scarfacross a table, gaining a respite from his gaze. "Have I ever pretendednot to care for beautiful, luxurious things? And does that argue that Icare for nothing else? I think you should apologize--and pay more heedto your digestion."
He paused an instant, steadying himself. As usual, she had contrived tomake him feel in the wrong and ashamed.
"I do apologize," he said, less certainly. "I did not come in here tosay all that, Lucille. But I did come to say what reaches the same end.We cannot finish this thing we have begun. We could not stand it. Thinkwhatever you may of me as a coward, I am not going on."
"Indeed, I think you have gone far enough," she calmly returned."Suppose we sit down and be civilized. Will you smoke before dinner?"
He shook his head, baffled in spite of himself by her elusiveness, butalso angered to resolution. And he knew that he had seen her truly amoment since; the loveliness that had glamoured his sight for a yearcould not hide from memory that glimpse of her mind.
"I am not staying to dinner, thanks," he refused. "And I am not playing.Our matter looked bad enough as it was, but you showed me a worse thing,just now. It was bad enough to take my friend's wife for love; I can'tand won't take her by means of my father's money."
She wheeled about, swiftly and hotly aflame, and they stared at eachother as strangers.
"You have forgotten that we are engaged," she said stingingly. "Ordoesn't your conscience heed a broken word?"
"Perhaps it is heeding the tactfulness of being engaged to one man whileyou are married to another," he struck back, goaded to a brutalityforeign to his nature.
The faint chime of touching glasses checked them on the brink of abreach that would have made reconciliation impossible. Mrs. Mastersondropped into a chair, snatching up a fan to shade her flushed face.Adriance stood stiffly, where he was, wisely making no attempt atartificial nonchalance. The servant who entered saw only composure inhis immobility.
Mrs. Masterson eagerly lifted the offered cocktail to her lips, as ifanger had parched them. Adriance took a glass from the tray presented tohim, but at once set it aside upon the table; now that he realized, hefelt that the hospitality of this house was not for him. But the briefinterlude helped both of them.
When the servant had gone, Adriance spoke with restored calmness.
"You see, even now the situation has warped us all awry. If it werenot so, I should like to buy things for you, I suppose. I canimagine----"
He broke the sentence; quite suddenly he had remembered the littlebuckled shoes bought for the girl in the pavilion. He had lookedinterestedly at other things in the shop, while he waited for hisparcel. It would have given
him delight to purchase certain elaboratestockings and absurd lace-frilled handkerchiefs.
"I can imagine that I should," he finished lamely. "Lucille, you willcome to agree with me, I hope. But even if you do not, I cannot go on."
She rose and came up to him with a swift movement that brought both herhands against his shoulders before he grasped her intention. Her warmface was directly beneath his own.
"Is there someone else, Tony?" she demanded. "Some girl? Of course itwould be a young girl who inspired all this; 'pure as water'--and astasteless! Is that it?"
She might have struck him with less effect. Tony Adriance wentabsolutely numb with disgusted wrath. What preposterous thing did sheimply? The shining gray eyes of the girl in the pavilion looked at himacross the alert, probing gaze of Lucille Masterson; looked at him withbeautiful candor, with indignation. He felt outraged, as if the younggirl herself had been made present in this nasty scene. And withoutcause! He had no thought of loving that sober little figure; he was sickof love.
"I am sorry you cannot credit me with one disinterested motive," he saidcoldly. "As it happens, you are wrong. There is no one except you. I amgoing away because you are neither unmarried nor a widow, since youforce me to repeat all this. If you were either----"
"You would stay?" she whispered.
He looked down at her, and as always before her magic his strength grewweak. He lifted her hands from his shoulders, before replying.
"Yes," he conceded, his voice changed. "But it is over, Lucille. TellMasterson I have gone abroad; to stay."
As he moved toward the door, Mrs. Masterson turned to the table andcaught up his untouched glass. Fear and chagrin were swept from herface; it still glowed from her late rage, but her eyes were lightedwith confidence and ironic relief.
"To your safe voyage and pleasant return!" she exclaimed lightly, facinghim across the room. "For you will come back, Tony. The spasm will pass;and leave you lonely. I can wait, then. Good-night."
She laughed outright at the consternation in his glance, as he paused.But he turned and went out, leaving her leaning across the arm of one ofthe discordant rose-colored chairs, watching him.
Back in the foyer, Adriance stopped to recover a conventional composureof bearing before going out. He recalled that he must pass inspection bythe elevator boy and footman; must meet their wonder, no less obviousbecause dumb, at his departure before the dinner.
The heavy blankness of his waiting was broken by the gayest sound in theworld. The gurgling laughter of a happy child rippled through thesilence like a brook, cascading down in a cadence of chuckles. As if toconfirm the recognition to which Adriance started, a girl's clear laughjoined the baby merriment. Opposite him, light showed in a thin linethrough a curtained doorway. Without the slightest remembrance ofproprieties or conventions, he sprang that way and swung the door open.
He was on the threshold of a nursery; a room pink as the inside of arosebud, gay with all the adorable paraphernalia babyhood demands,fragrant with violet-powder and warm as a nest. At the foot of a shininglittle bed, clutching the brass rail for support while executing astamping dance, was the lord of the domain; his silk-fine, frankly redhair rumpled into glinting ringlets about his moist, rosy face, his blueeyes crinkled shut by mirth. The girl knelt opposite, steadying thechubby figure and serenely indifferent to the small, mischievous fingersthat had loosened her dark hair from its braids. Without her hat, shewas younger, even more wholesome and good than he had thought. Shelooked as fresh and candid as the damp, open-lipped kisses the babylavished upon her.
Perhaps the intruder moved, perhaps she felt his gaze, for as he watchedthe girl broke up the picture. She rose abruptly, turned, and saw himstanding there.
At first her startled face told only of surprise; indeed his merepresence there gave her no reason to feel more. But in his dismay andbewilderment and complete obsession Tony Adriance betrayed himself.
"I didn't know," he stammered, grasping blindly at justification andapology. "I didn't know who Holly was--or that you lived here. I amsorry; I should not have spoken----"
He stopped short. He had forgotten the fiction of a third person withwhich he had masked his confidence in the park; forgotten that the girlknew neither his name nor his purpose in this house. Quite withoutnecessity he had enlightened her.
For the girl was swift of perception. Perhaps his expression alone wouldhave told her the truth, if he had been silent. Mechanically she had putone arm around the baby, now she drew it closer, as if in protection.Her rain-gray eyes grieved, reproached, rebuked him. Possessed ofLucille Masterson's plans, holding her son, she faced him in judgment.
Of course he had known Lucille had a child, somewhat as he knew hisfather owned the factory behind the electric sign. He never had seeneither of them, except distantly; they meant nothing actual to him. Butnow, there seemed nothing in the world so important. The girl had notspoken, yet she had abruptly brought him face to face with new things.
"You know, I would have taken him, too," he tried to answer all she leftunsaid, hating himself for the unsteady humility he could not keep fromhis voice. "I always meant to. I meant to do everything for the boy. Icould--I am Anthony Adriance."
She spoke, then, her smooth voice all roughened.
"You can buy him everything? You cannot buy him his father. And nothingwill make up for that."
"But----"
She struck down the weak protest.
"I _know_. I have a good father. And Holly," the infinite compassion ofher glance embraced the baby, "he has not even a real mother to do herhalf. It is not right; you cannot make it right."
"But I have! I am going----!"
He faltered. How was he to explain to her the scene that had just beenenacted? Was it decent to Lucille?
"I've done my best," he stammered. "I told you; you know I've not likedthis."
The exclamation blended defiance and appeal; it was almost a cry wrestedfrom him. His position had been hard enough before the introduction ofthis new element. The girl understood, for the anger died from her eyeslike a blown-out flame.
"There must be a way," she said quite gently. "There is always a rightway, if one can only find it. I think you had better not stay here, now.Mr. Masterson always comes at this time; it is even late for him."
The warning had been delayed too long. Almost with the last word, aman's step sounded in the foyer, the curtains rustled apart and the doorswung.
"What, Tony in a nursery!" exclaimed the master of the house, with anoddly tired gayety. He came forward and gave his hand to Adriance, hisamused scrutiny wholly cordial. If he wondered how the other man camehere, he was both too indifferent and too well-bred to betray the fact."You have caught me; here is the only place I am behind the times," headded. "Hello, son!"
Adriance was spared the necessity of replying. The baby, who had stoodstaring round-eyed at the visitor, exploded into a very madness ofchuckles and shouts, twisting out of the girl's hold and plunging towardthe newcomer with fat arms insistently spread. With an apologetic,half-diffident glance at his guest, Masterson caught and swung Hollyinto the game of romps demanded.
It was a good game, evidently the result of practice. The pink room rangwith treble shrieks of glee; and Masterson laughed, too, occasionallyinterjecting phrases of caution or comment.
"Jove, what a punch! How's that for muscle, Tony? Easy, son! How do_you_ like your wig pulled? Steady, now."
THERE WOULD HAVE BEEN NO MORE BEDTIME ROMPS FOR MASTERSONAND HIS SON]
The two in the background looked on. Adriance's throat was contracting;he was suffocating with a terrible sense of barely having escaped ashameful action. He understood the girl even better now. Only, if heloathed himself so much, yet knew that at least he had ended the wrong,how much more must her clear sight find him despicable in her ignoranceof his tardy amendment! He dared not look at her. He tried to rememberLucille Masterson's regretfully murmured plaints of Fred's carelessnesswith money, his "wildness" and neglect of he
r. But he could only thinkheavily that if Mrs. Masterson had obtained a divorce, the custody ofthe child would surely have been awarded to her, the irreproachablewife. There would have been no more bedtime romps for Fred Masterson andhis son. How much alike the two looked! He had forgotten how very auburnFred's hair was, and how boyish his eyes were when he laughed.
With a final toss and shout the dishevelled, panting baby was replacedin the bed, one cheek poppy-red from a rough masculine caress. A littleshame-faced over the sentimentality, Masterson turned to his guest.
"All over!" he affected lightness. "Come have a Martini before dinner,Tony."
"No, thanks. I couldn't." Adriance pulled himself together with a sharpeffort. "I heard your kiddie laughing, and just looked in here. I oughtto apologize; I have not yet met this lady----"
Masterson regarded him curiously.
"Miss Elsie Murray, Mr. Adriance," he obeyed the implied request. "MissMurray is good enough to be Holly's guardian, since no one of his familyhas time for that--or inclination."
She was a nurse. The simple fact came home to Adriance for the firsttime. The severe black dress, the little white cuffs and collar thatmade it a uniform, her constant attendance upon the baby--all theobvious evidence had been overshadowed for him by her face and bearing,the personality out of all accord with the position in which she was.
There was no change in her face. He comprehended that she never hadimagined him ignorant of her relation to Holly. Through all hiswhirling confusion of thought, Adriance contrived to hold outwardcomposure and acknowledge the introduction as he would that to anygentlewoman. The quaint word seemed to suit her.
She met him with a poise at least equal to his own. But it was he whooffered his hand, heedless of Masterson's observation. It seemed to himthat he never had desired anything in his life so desperately, with suchpassionate eagerness as he desired to be justified before this girl. Hewanted her to know the very thing he could not honorably tell anyone:that he had broken with Lucille Masterson of his own free will. His eyessought hers, unconsciously beseeching her grace of comprehension;indeed, he had a confused idea that she would comprehend that hisoffered handclasp was ventured only because he was not going to do thewrong they both hated.
Perhaps she did understand. At least, she gave him her hand, for thefirst time in their acquaintance. He grasped it with a brightening ofhis drawn face, leaning toward her.
"Thank you!" he said. "I congratulate Holly; you will teach him in timeabout Maitre Raoul Galvez."
That speech took her by surprise; for an instant she did not withdrawher hand, her direct gaze meeting his. He saw her gray eyes cloud andclear, and cloud again; abruptly her dark lashes cloaked them from him.
"Yes," she murmured. "Yes."
Masterson was staring at the two, his lips parted by cynical interest.But no one perceived the second observer. Mrs. Masterson had come to thedoorway while Masterson was playing with the baby and still stood there,narrowed, incredulous eyes appraising the amazing tableau offered by hernursemaid and Tony Adriance. She herself had followed Adriance for alast word, unaware of her husband's return home. And she had found thisgroup, in her nursery.
When the others moved, she drew back. The curtains noiselessly fellshut. The two men came into the foyer almost immediately, but the bronzelamp lighted an empty room.
Masterson asked no questions of his guest as they paused outside thenursery, but Adriance had recollected himself enough to shelter thegirl from embarrassment.
"I stopped one day to speak to your boy in the park," he remarkedcasually. "Miss Murray was telling him an odd fairy tale that struck myfancy; Creole, I should think."
Masterson dropped his hand on the other's shoulder with an intimacy longunused between them, ignoring the explanation.
"We never seem to get together, any more, except at some societynonsense," he regretted. "We used to be pretty close, Tony. Rememberthat night in the Maine camp after the canoe had upset, when there wasonly one blanket left and we tossed up for it? I don't remember who won,but I know we both slept under it----as much as we could get under." Helaughed reminiscently. "Well, it's a far cry from there to here! Shallwe go in to Lucille?"
"Thank you, but I have made my excuses to Mrs. Masterson," Adrianceanswered steadily. "I had a telegram----! I am off for the rest of theyear; perhaps longer. I am going to South America."
"Your father's business? I remember you once spoke of some such thing.I wish I were going with you."
He sighed with impatient fatigue, and the two stood for a silent moment.Masterson aroused himself to hold out his slender, nervous hand.
"Well, good luck go with you, Tony. It usually does, though! 'To himwho hath----.'"
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