A Top-Floor Idyl

by George Van Schaick

  CHAPTER XIV

  I BEGIN TO PLOT

  I had the mourning band taken from my silk hat, while I have worn myfrock coat so little that it looked very nicely. A new pair of glovesand a scarf purchased for the occasion completed my war-paint for theVan Rossum reception, as I made my way to the mansions glorifying theeastern edge of the Park. It was a civility due to my friend and a markof respect I was only too glad to pay so handsome and unaffected a youngmillionairess as Miss Sophia; moreover, as a second, and perhapsunworthy, thought, I considered that a visit to such a princelyestablishment might give me the atmosphere I so often needed during thecourse of some of my stories. Hummingbirds, bees and novelists gladlydraw sustenance from the humblest flowers, at times, but are neveraverse to the juices of scions of the horticultural nobility.

  My hat and coat were seized upon in an anteroom, after I had depositedmy card in a great chased receptacle, and I made my way up the widestaircase, softly carpeted in crimson and adorned at the sides withbalusters of ancient, black, carved oak. The great hallway I had justleft gave an impression of respectable age, like a neat and primped upold gentleman still able to wear a flower in his buttonhole. There werejust enough ancient cavaliers looking from the walls to afford, with twoshining suits of armor, a suggestion that the Van Rossums were reapingthe just reward due to the offspring of noble swashbucklers.

  In my ascension I closely followed three young ladies and blessed thefate that had abolished long trains. But for its decree, I should havebeen filled with the hot trepidation of the man who knows that he isapt, at the slightest opportunity, to tread on sweeping flounces, andwho has had his share of furious and transfixing haughty looks. Otherswere coming behind me in a stream. The music of fiddles and mandolinshidden in a bower of palms, on the landing, mingled with a murmur ofmany voices. I soon entered a great parlor, through huge doors, andfollowed a line of matrons and damsels diversified by a scattering ofthe masculine element.

  I immediately recognized Mrs. Van Rossum, very resplendent in pearl graysilk, and her daughter's goodnatured face, very smiling and friendly toall. Gordon was standing quite near, chatting with some ladies. Mr. VanRossum I knew at once, since his countenance has been, many times andoft, represented in the press among other portraits of enviable men ofwealth. So urbane and mild did he look that I wondered how any one couldhesitate to borrow a million from him. My chance to make my bow camevery soon. The elder lady smiled to me most charmingly, in most evidentand utter forgetfulness of my identity, but Miss Sophia showed anexcellent memory.

  "My dear Mr. Cole! How very kind of you to come! Yes, it's a mostcharming day. Lucy, dearest, this is Mr. Cole who writes the mostdelightful books. You must read them, but he will tell you all aboutthem."

  Swiftly, she turned to others and I was left in the care of the dearestlittle lady, just five feet nothing in highest heels, who looked like arosebud wrapped in lace, and smiled at me.

  "I am going to take you right over there by the window," she said. "Ijust dote on people who write books and I remember your name perfectlywell. You are the author of 'The World's Grist' and 'Meg's Temptation.'"

  She sat down, with a little sign extending her gracious permission forme to do likewise, whereupon I hastened to assure her that I made noclaim to the reputation so thoroughly deserved by the authors of thosemagnificent novels.

  "Then, tell me the names of your books, won't you?"

  Somewhat diffidently I acquainted her with a few of the titles,whereupon she joyfully declared that she remembered one of themperfectly.

  "The heroine was called Rose," she said, triumphantly.

  "It seems to me that it was Kate," I replied, modestly.

  "Yes, Kate, of course, and do you really think she was happy ever afterwith that extraordinary man Jonas?"

  "I think I recollect marrying her off to one Fitzjames, but that is onlya minor detail. A novelist, my dear young lady, may assert with someshow of confidence that the weddings he brings about are warranted notto crock, but you must remember he deals with fiction. The future liesin the hollow of no man's hand and, since I write chiefly of moderndays, I save myself the saddening task of following my heroines to thegrave. To me they are all alive, yet, happy as the day is long,revelling in sunshine and basking in undying love."

  She folded her little hands on her lap, opened her big blue eyes verywidely and sighed gently.

  "How awfully delightful!" she said, "and I think you're ever so clever.But--but I think you'll have to pardon me."

  I rose, as she gained her feet and smiled at me again. Then she rushedoff to another corner of the room and placed her hand on the coatsleeveof a six-footer who looked at her, joyfully. Her little turned-up face,in a fraction of a second, must have spoken several volumes. Then,slowly and very casually, they drifted off towards the big conservatoryto the left.

  Twenty minutes later, floating with the crowd, I chanced to be behindthem. It is possible that they had found the retreat too populous.

  "I am sure that you must have flirted disgracefully before I came," theman accused her, tenderly.

  "Not a bit! I just sat down with the dearest old fogy who is supposed towrite novels, so that you shouldn't be jealous, if you saw me," shereplied, contentedly.

  I moved away, rather swiftly. I should evidently have been delighted atthe opportunity of rendering such signal service to so charming a littleperson. I had served as an aegid for her, as a buckler to protect herinnocence and display it to the world in general and to six feet ofstalwart manhood in particular. Yet, I confess that this little bud haddriven a tiny thorn in me.

  "Well," I reflected, "it is perhaps good to be an old fogy with scantyhair and the beginning of crow's feet. At any rate it helps make Friedafond of me and has given me the trustful friendship of Frances. BabyPaul, I think, also appreciates his venerable friend."

  Just then, Gordon came to me.

  "By Jove, Dave! You're rather a fine figure of a man, when you'reproperly groomed," he told me.

  "That's nonsense," I told him, severely. "I have just had a wirelessinforming me that I am a back number. Why are you no longer receiving atthe side of your intended bride? She looks exceedingly handsome andgraceful."

  "The engagement has really not been announced yet," he answered. "It isnot official. The Van Rossums are going to Florida, because the oldgentleman has lost some tarpon he wants to find again. After that theyare going to California where he is to look up something about an oilwell. I may possibly run over there to see them. The--It won't happenfor ever so long, perhaps not till fall. Wish I could go out with youand beat you at billiards, but I'm to stay till the bitter end. Isn'tshe looking splendidly?"

  My eyes turned to where Miss Van Rossum was still receiving guests. Shewas certainly a fine creature, full of the joy of living. If some of hertastes in the way of pursuits were somewhat masculine, it detractednothing from her elegance and charm. These might, in later years, becomerather exuberant, I reflected, looking at the amplitude of formdisplayed by her parents, but, after all, none of us are beyond thegrasp of Father Time.

  "Just as splendidly as she does in your exquisite painting," I replied,nodding towards the portrait, wonderfully framed, that stood on an easelin the best light that could have been found for it.

  A moment later he was torn away from me. From time to time he returnedto the side of the young lady, who was always much occupied inconversation and pleasant laughter with many friends.

  If Gordon thinks that the engagement is as yet something of a secret, heis badly in error. Hints, glances, little movements of heads in hisdirection, constantly apprised me that the information was scattered farand wide. Two dowagers close to me indulged in a stage whisper thatrevealed to me the fact that they wondered whether the projectedmarriage would not be something of a _mesalliance_ on the part of dearSophia.

  "After all, you know, he's nothing but a painter, and no one heard ofhim until three or four years ago!"

  "But they say he charges enormously
," said the other.

  This, evidently, was quite a redeeming feature in my friend's favor, butI am afraid it was the only one, from their point of view.

  I soon decided that I had done my full duty and sought the stairwayagain. Here, I once more ran into Gordon.

  "I know just what the hippo in the zoo feels like," he confided to me,"and he has the advantage of a thicker skin. But I'm putting it all downto advertising expense. Good-by, Dave, old boy, give my kindest regardsto--to Frieda."

  I was glad when I reached the sidewalk again. I am no cynical detractorof the advantages of wealth, breeding, education and all the things thatgo towards refining away some of the dross which clings to the originalman. Were it not for the hope of lucre, how many would be the works ofart, how great would be the achievements of the world! Still, I feltthat a man can have a little too much of the scent of roses, a surfeitof gilded lilies and gems in profusion. The good, old, hard sidewalkseemed to give me just as pleasant a welcome as that extended by softestrugs, while the keen and bracing air filled my lungs more agreeably thanthe warmed and perfumed atmosphere I had just left. I climbed on top ofone of the auto-busses, holding on to my hat, and was taken all the waydown to Washington Square, where some of the ancient aristocracy ofGotham lives cheek by jowl with the proletariat burrowing a littlefurther south.

  I walked away, slowly, seeking to remember in that crowded assemblyuptown some face I could favorably compare with that of Frances. No, ithad been a road from Dan to Beersheba, barren of such beauty as blossomson the fourth floor back, of what Gordon calls my menagerie. One of myventuresome fancies painted for me the Murillo-woman gliding throughthose rooms. She would have been like a great evening star amongtwinkling asteroids. My imagination vaguely clothed her with a raimentof beauty, but the smile of her needed no changing.

  I reached the house just as the young ladies who sell candy werereturning. My silk hat, I think, impressed them, as well as my yellowgloves and the ancient gold-mounted Malacca I inherited from my father.

  "My! Ain't you handsome to-day, Mr. Cole!" exclaimed one of them.

  "You been to a weddin', Mr. Cole?" asked another.

  "I have been to pay my respects to two people who are drifting that way,if signs don't fail," I answered. "I should be happy indeed to look justas handsome whenever any of you favors me with an invitation to hermarriage."

  At this they giggled, appearing rather pleased, and I made my wayupstairs, glad indeed to climb them. How fortunate it is that I selectedthe higher levels, considering that they would give me greater privacyand less interference with typewriting at night! My lucky star, when Iso decided, was plainly in its apogee.

  I have been told that I am rather quiet and silent of movement. Icertainly did not seek to conceal my coming, but when I reached the topfloor I saw that my neighbor's door was open and a voice that was mostfamiliar and yet utterly new to me was crooning something. I listened.It was a bit of a dear old Breton song with a little meaningless_ritournelle_:

  _Gaiement je chante et chanterai; Ti-ho-ho, Car mon bonheur je garderai. Ti-ho-ho-ho._

  For a moment my heart stood still and I awaited, breathless. But therewas no more, they were the last two words of the song. She had beensinging to her little one, very low and sweetly, and the huskinessseemed to have disappeared. I thought upon these words "Gaily I sing andI will sing, for my happiness I will keep." Was the great wish of herheart coming to her now? Would Baby Paul be able to listen to the voicethat had entranced his father and crow with delight at the loving notesthat had stolen the man's heart?

  A tiny pain shot through me. The bird was finding its song; would it nowalso use its wings? Is Frances destined to become a great singer again?Will her life, after a time, be led away from humbler surroundings, fromher modest friends, and is her personality to become in my memory butone of those dear and charming recollections every man stores away inhis heart, as some hide away faded flowers, a scented note, or perchancethe glove that has touched a beloved hand?

  I coughed, prudently, to announce my coming. She was in the big chairwith Baby Paul on her lap and put her finger to her lips, thusannouncing that her offspring had fallen asleep. I entered on tiptoe anddrew a chair towards her, with due precaution, assuming the air of aGrand Inquisitor.

  "Frances," I accused her, severely, but in a low voice, "you have beenguilty of singing. This you have most certainly done without thefaculty's permission. Dr. Porter would scold you most sternly, if heheard of it, and I feel that it is my duty to take so disagreeable a jobfrom his shoulders. You are a bad, bold, rebellious creature and I don'tknow what I shall do to you!"

  "I--I think I shall be able to sing again," she whispered, her eyesshining brightly. "Dear--dear David, I--I am so happy!"

  Across the body of Baby Paul she extended her arm and hand. I took herfingers in mine.

  "You deserve to have them well rapped with a ruler," I told her, "but,as no such instrument of torture is at hand, I shall punish youotherwise."

  So I was bold enough to touch them to my lips for a second and abandonedthem, suddenly possessed by a huge fear that I had taken an inexcusableliberty, but she looked at the baby, smiling.

  "Indeed, Frances, I share your happiness and trust that youranticipations are to be realized in fullest measure. A mean, little,selfish feeling came to me, a moment ago, that the fulfilment of yourhopes might take you away from us. I confess that I am shamed andcontrite at the thought, but I have become very fond of--of Baby Paul.Now, however, I rejoice with you. But, my dear child, for Heaven's sakeremember what our good little doctor told you! I beg you not to spoilhis magnificent work!"

  "Oh! David! I'll be ever so careful, I promise, and, whatever happens,you will always be the same dear old David to us. I assure you I won'ttry again, for ever so long. I think I just began without knowing what Iwas doing. The first thing I knew I was just humming that bit of song toPaul, and then the words came quite clear, so easily that I hardlyrealized I was singing. But I won't try again, until Dr. Porter allowsme to. And then, it will be very little at a time, ever so little."

  "And then, you will have to go to the very best man in New York, andtake more lessons and practise a lot, because your throat has been idleso long that it has forgotten all it ever knew, and--and----"

  "And it would cost a dreadful lot of money, and I have none, and it isall a great big lovely dream, but I must awaken from it and go back toMr. McGrath's for a few days more, and then to Felicie's shop, becauseit opens again next week and she declares she can't get along withoutme. I am afraid, my poor David, that I shall have to be quite contentwith singing to Baby Paul, as best I can, and, perhaps, to Frieda andyou."

  I rose, angrily, and paced the room several times.

  "That's arrant nonsense," I finally declared. "You will go to Gordon'sand you will also return to Madame Felicie Smith's, for a short time. Inthe meanwhile I will have the piano moved into your room, because it isa silly incumbrance in mine. You can practise a little by yourself, ifPorter allows you to. Then, as soon as he says it is all right, you willgo to the Signora Stefano, or to Richetti or some such expert teacher.I have some money in the bank and I am going to advance it to you,because you can return it later on, when you give concerts or sing atthe opera. If you don't give it back, I'll dun you, sue you, set theminions of the law after you, if such a promise can give you anycomfort. Don't you dare answer, it is bad for your throat to speak toomuch, especially when it is nonsense. And I'm going to make a lot moremoney besides. I have an idea about an old maid and a canary that themagazines will bid for, hungrily. It's the finest thing I ever wrote,although it is still incubating in my head."

  She rose, ever so carefully, so as not to awaken Baby Paul, anddeposited him in his crib. Then she came to me with both handsoutstretched.

  "Do you really think, David, that I would squander your poor littlesavings? Do you think I am one to speculate on friendship and try tocoin money out of kindness?"

  She held both my should
ers, her great beautiful eyes seeming to searchmy soul, which the tears that trembled on her lashes appeared to sear asif they had been drops of molten lead. With some effort, I brought asmile to my lips and shook my head.

  "You are a silly infant," I told her, gravely. "Little Paul, on theother hand, is a man, an individual endowed with intelligence beyond hismonths. He will understand that you are not at all concerned in thismatter and that I only want to help him out. I want to give him a motherof whom he will be proud, one who will make the little scrivener she meton a top floor ever boastful that once upon a time he was a friend andstill maintains her regard. I am only seeking to help him, since we aregreat pals, to graduate from long frocks to trousers, in anticipation ofcollege and other steps towards useful manhood. He is a particularfriend of mine; he smiles upon me; he has drooled upon my shirtfront andpulled my moustache. We understand one another, Paul and I, and togetherwe deplore your feminine obstinacy."

  To my frightful embarrassment Frances let go of my shoulders and seizedmy hands, which she carried swiftly as a flash to her lips, before Icould draw them away.

  "When I teach him to pray, you will not be forgotten, David. We--we willspeak of this some other time, because, perhaps, after all, my voicewill never return--as it was before, and then all this will have beenbut--but idle speculations--and--and I will never forget your goodness."

  Just then, Baby Paul, perhaps thinking that our conversation had lastedlong enough, gave the signal for me to retire. He is a rather impatientyoung man, and I stepped out, closing the door behind me, and went to myroom where I thankfully removed the frock coat, after which, David washimself again.

  Richetti, I have heard, is a marvelous teacher, and there is no betterjudge of the possibilities of a voice. I am going to interview him andexplain the intricacies of the case. Then, I shall tell him that if hesees the slightest chance he will put me under lasting obligation bysending the bills to me, meanwhile, assuring Frances that he is teachingher gratuitously, in order to enhance his reputation by turning out sucha consummate artist. She will fall in my snare and be captured by mywiles.

  There are various fashions, I have always heard, of causing the demiseof a cat. Here is where the shrewd and clever conspirator is going touse the plots of his fiction in real life. I am thankful that myprofessional training is at last to serve me so well!