CHAPTER XXXIV
A WOMAN'S WILES
The bubble of Rockhaven, the flight of Weston, the suicide of Hillfurnished a few items for the city press, a little gossip amonginterested ones for a week, then passed into history, to be forgotten bymost people. Page, lionized for a day by other brokers whose scalps hehad saved, resumed his operations as usual with an increased clientele;while Simmons, the defeated one in this battle of values, was seldomseen on the floor of the exchange. Jack Nickerson returned to his wontedexistence, speculating a little, gambling in the club when congenialspirits gathered, and, as usual, sneering at the weaknesses of all humankind; while Winn, growing more despondent day by day at the turn in thetide of affairs, hardly knew what to do with himself. Occasionally hewalked past the door of Weston & Hill's office, now closed by the handof law, and glancing at the legal paper pasted inside it, muttered acurse and went his way. Sometimes he visited the exchange to watch theunceasing tossing of stock dice for an hour, to kill time; then toPage's office to chat with him, and then to the club, feeling himselfless and less in touch with this grind of city life as the days went by.
He lived, too, in daily expectation of a letter from Mona, and receivingnone, that added to his gloom. Just why, he could not understand; andthen a species of pride crept into his feelings, and he imagined shemight have been cautioned by her mother not to answer him. He began tofeel a little hurt at the thought that this timid girl might feel afraidof him; and although swayed by emotions and seemingly his own when theyparted, he feared that on reflection she had decided it best to end thematter thus.
To one who is despondent, all things seem awry, and Winn was now so lowdown in spirits that he was ready to believe himself of no account toany one--even this simple child of nature whose soul was attuned to herviolin. That Jess was his cordial friend he felt sure; but a timid girl,utterly lacking in worldly wisdom and as wayward in feelings as thevarying sounds of the waves beating against her island home, was anothermatter.
Winn's thoughts now were full of bitterness.
One Sunday, coming out of church ahead of his aunt who had paused tochat with some one, he encountered in the vestibule, dressed infaultless fall costume, a picture of beauty and good taste,--EthelSherman!
"Why, Winn," she said, advancing and extending a gloved hand, "I am veryglad to see you back again. I've heard all about you and the fame youhave achieved and how good you have been to your aunt. I must insistthat you call this evening and tell me all about it. I've a bone to pickwith you also, you naughty boy, for not answering my letter."
And Winn, moved as any man would be by such captivating words uttered bya young goddess in fashionable raiment, forgot all his old-timeresentment for a moment, and answered as any well-bred and susceptibleyoung man would.
"I am very glad to see you, Ethel," he said cordially, "and it's nice ofyou to say such pleasant things. If you haven't any better amusement forthis evening, I will call."
And call he did, to find this imperious beauty arrayed in an exquisiteevening gown, in his honor, fairly exhaling sweet smiles and gracefulwords. And with them came back, also, all the old-time charm of hersiren voice, her keen wit, her polished sarcasms, her devil-may-care_bon camaraderie_.
For two years Ethel Sherman had been a daily thorn in Winn's side. Hehad met her occasionally, when he simply bowed and exchanged thecivilities of polite society, but nothing more. Occasionally his aunt, aborn match-maker, had let fall a word of praise for Ethel, the intent ofwhich was palpable to Winn, but in spite of which he had determined toput her out of his thoughts. When her letter reached him on the island,he mentally contrasted her with Mona and to the former's detriment, morethan ever thinking of her as the type of a fashionable young womansneered at by Nickerson. His illusions regarding her had all vanishedand he saw her as she was,--a beautiful, heartless, ambitious Circe,conscious of her power, and enjoying it.
And this evening, seated in her daintily furnished parlor, and facingthe most exquisite adornment it contained, he regarded her as he did themarble copy of the Greek Slave, perched on a pedestal in one corner.
But Ethel Sherman was not the girl to be long considered marble, whethershe was or not; and was just now piqued by Winn's coolly politeindifference.
"Well, my dear friend," she said eagerly, when the first commonplaceshad been exchanged, "tell me all about this unheard-of island where youhave been buried all summer, and this queer old fellow you brought upin the city, and the barefooted fisher maids you met there, and whichone caught your fancy. I've just been dying to hear."
"You seem to want an entire chapter of a novel in one breath," answeredWinn, smiling. "How did you find out I brought any one to the city?"
"Oh, I am still able to read the papers," she laughed, "and Jack calledthe other evening. It's all over the city, as well as your firm'scollapse and the part you played in it. Oh, you have become famous in aday, as it were, and people who have never set eyes on you are talkingabout you."
Winn smiled, for what man could resist such subtile flattery.
"I wasn't aware that I was a mark for gossip," he said, "though Weston &Hill must have been, and deservedly. I'm not sorry for Hill, however,for I despised him, but I rather liked Weston, even after I discoveredhe was a rascal, he was such a jolly, good-natured one."
"So Jack says," answered Ethel, "and happily indifferent as to whom heswindled. It was first come, first served, with him."
"He served Hill the worst dose," said Winn, "and it looks as if Hillwere the ultimate object of his plot, and the rest of us only pawns inhis game."
"You at least called 'checkmate' to him," answered Ethel, smilingadmiration, "but tell me about the island. That is of more interest tome. The city end of this affair is now ancient history."
"Oh, the island is a poem," replied Winn, earnestly, "a spot to forgetthe world on and learn a new life. Its people are poor, but honest,kind, and truthful; their houses turkey coops, their customs ancient,their religion sincere, their livelihood gained by fishing, and theisland a wild spruce-clad ledge of granite with bold sea-washed cliffsand an interior harbor that is a dream of peace, seldom rippled. Thereis an ancient beacon built by the Norsemen on a hill nine centuries ago,a ravine surpassingly grand with a cave called the Devil's Oven, and anold tide-mill at the head of their harbor, where a love-lorn girl oncehanged herself."
"A charming spot, truly," said Ethel, "and if I had known all this lastJuly, and there had been a comfortable hotel there, we should havesummered on this delightful island instead of on the mountains."
"It would have amused you a week," replied Winn, smiling, "but notlonger. There were no golf links or young dudes to flirt with there."
Ethel colored slightly.
"That is the worst of having friends," she said, "they are bound togossip about one. I don't mind," she added gayly; "I am a flirt andadmit it cheerfully, but what else are men good for?"
"Not much, I admit," answered Winn, sarcastically, "especially if theyhave money or prospects of it; and if not, they are good to practiseon."
"Now, Winn, my dear fellow, don't emulate Jack Nickerson," she respondedsuavely, "the role doesn't become you. You can be an adorable bear, butnot a barking puppy."
"Jack's not a puppy," asserted Winn.
"I never said he was," answered Ethel. "He can be worse than that; hecan be a gossipy old maid, always sneering, and that is more abominablethan a puppy any day. But tell me about the people on the island, andwhich fisher maid you fell in love with."
"Why should you imagine I looked twice at any island maid?" answeredWinn.
"Oh, you were bound to," asserted Ethel, laughing. "You wouldn't be thedelightful man you are unless you did, so tell me all about her. Did shewear her flaxen hair in a braid and ask from beneath a sunbonnet, 'Whatare the wild waves saying?' while she stood barefoot beside you on thebeach?"
"Oh, yes, and chewed spruce gum at the same time," he responded, alsolaughing.
"Even when you kissed her?
" queried Ethel. "It must have lent adelightfully aromatic flavor."
Winn made no answer to this pointed sally. Instead he stroked hismoustache musingly, while his thoughts flew back to Rockhaven and Mona.
Ethel eyed him keenly.
"Quit mooning," she said at last, "and come back to Erin. I do notexpect you to admit you kissed this fair fisher maid. It wouldn't begallant. But you can at least describe her. Is she dark or fair?"
"I haven't the least idea," he said, "she was so sweet and charming; hereyes might have been sea-green for all I can tell."
"You evade fairly well," rejoined his tormentor, "but not over well. Youstill need practice. Now tell me about this old fellow Jack described asa 'barnacled curiosity.'"
"Oh, Jess Hutton," replied Winn, relieved; "he is a curiosity, and ofthe salt of the earth. If there was any one I fell in love with on theisland, it was he."
"That was fairly well done," laughed Ethel; "you are improving and intime may hope to deceive even me."
"Never," responded Winn, sarcastically; "you are too well skilled in thefine art of dissembling. You almost persuaded me to-day that you werereally glad to see me, instead of anxious to find out all aboutRockhaven and its fisher maids."
"That is unkind," replied Ethel, in a hurt tone, "and you know it.Didn't I write you a nice letter, and have I shown the least resentmentat your failure to answer it? Come now, be nice and like your old dearself, you big bear. I don't care if you did fall in love with an islandgirl. You certainly would have been stupid not to if there was one worthit, and I respect you the more for protecting her. Your friend Nickersonwouldn't."
And Winn, mollified by this occult flattery, came near admitting--Monaand all the summer's illusion--for that was Winn Hardy's way. Only onething saved her name from passing his lips,--the fact that no answer hadcome to his letter. He began to feel that none was likely to, and thatthe summer's idyl was destined to be but a memory like to the sound ofchurch bells in his boyhood days.
Then, while his thoughts went back to the island and all it contained,he told the story of his sojourn there, of Jess and his fiddle, of thelittle church and its parson, the quarry and his men, of Mrs. Moore andCaptain Roby and the fishermen who each day sailed away to return atnight.
Only Mona was omitted.
And Ethel, listening, became entranced at his recital.
"Your stay there has done you good," she said, when it was ended, "andmade a broader man of you. You are not the callow boy you were, and theheroism you have shown toward your poor aunt proves it. When she toldme, the tears almost came to my eyes; and while I bow to the nobleimpulse you displayed, it was foolish after all. It would have beenwiser to have kept the money in your own hands and taken care of her.She may be led again to make ducks and drakes of her money by anotherWeston. The world is full of them."
"It didn't occur to me then," answered Winn. "I did it on a suddenimpulse, and now I think you are right."
And be it said parenthetically that this worldly yet sincere assertionof Ethel Sherman elevated her greatly in Winn's estimation.
"Come, Ethel," he said after a pause, "I want to forget all thisbusiness; now don't say any more about it. Most likely I actedfoolishly--it isn't the first time, and may not be the last. If you wantto cheer me up, play and sing for me. I've not heard a piano since Ileft the city."
Ethel, glad of the chance so to entertain him, complied. Strange to saythe song she selected and rendered, as she well could, with exquisitefeeling, was "Robin Adair." Then followed another of the samenationality.
"I've taken to the old Scotch songs lately," she said, when she turnedfrom the piano, "and they are quite a fad with me now. They have so muchmore heart and soul in them than modern compositions."
"Give me 'Annie Laurie' now," suggested Winn, a shade on his face. Andlistening well while the graceful, ring-glittering fingers of EthelSherman leaped lightly over the ivory keys, her sweet voice gave newpower to the immortal ballad of olden time, while he thought only of onesummer day in the cave at Rockhaven and--Mona.
When he was taking his leave, and Ethel, unconscious of the mood she hadevoked, stood beside him in the dimly lighted hall, she held out herhand. Her red, ripe lips were upraised, as if in temptation, and hereyes were tender with the spirit of her songs.
"I hope you have had a pleasant evening, Winn," she said tenderly, "andwill call again soon. I'll promise not to mention the fisher maid anymore if you will."
And Winn, glancing into the bright eyes that had once lured him to aheartache, held her hand a moment and then bade her good night.
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