Part 20

Lucy had forgotten the troubles which brought her there and rose from her chair with fear in her eyes.

“Stop, Jim,” she commanded. “I’ve trusted you, too, and you have no right to talk this way.”

Jim had risen also, and now he came around the desk and stood in front of her, his eyes seeking hers insistently.

“Right!” he repeated. “I have the right that my love gives me, a love that never let me think of another woman since I first saw you. You’ve trusted me and you ought to have, because I’m worthy to be trusted. You trusted your husband too, and he allows the first miserable flirt that comes into his house to----”

“I’m going, Jim. I can’t listen to such things.” Lucy moved toward the door.

“Stop, Lucy,” he pleaded. “Don’t go.”

She hesitated. Her manner was hunted.

“I’ll talk reasonably,” he promised. He was very pale. His voice was low again. “Sit down, please,” he added as she remained undecided.

She reseated herself, smoothing out her gloves over and over with shaking fingers. Jim took his place in his chair by the desk and picked up the pencil. They regarded each other with fear and questioning. He had the look of a man prepared to overcome hard things.

“I suppose you’re thinking of John’s confidence in me, and what I owe myself in view of it, and all that,” he began.

“No, I don’t judge you. You have always seemed so like a--no, not like a brother, but like a dear friend and comrade that I could always depend on--I never thought----” The words would not come and Lucy continued smoothing her gloves.

Jim had himself in hand again and began speaking very carefully, drawing circles and squares on a piece of paper as he talked.

“John and I have been together nearly all our lives. I am not going to say anything against him, Lucy, but before I knew you I realized that he was--was not as strong as he should be. When I saw you I gave you the devotion of my soul that--I needed somebody, Lucy--that I had been trying to give him, because you were worthy of it. I knew you were the most desirable woman I had ever seen and I acknowledged this to myself without cant. I was proud to give you this honor in my heart, and I was prouder that I gave it to you as you really were. What John gave to you was a hazy outline of a woman seen through a mist of sex idealism. Anyone else would have done as well as you. But I never doubted the reality of his love, such as it was.”

Lucy began to show uneasiness again. Jim noticed it and hastened on.

“When your mother came I realized at once that you were in for a hard time and I stood ready to help John. I saw that she wanted to be a high priestess between you two and I set out to combat her influence over him. I tried my best, but he didn’t want any help. He could have stood with you and it would have been easy, for your mother is too cowardly to carry anything through against opposition. But he fell for any suggestion she put out, and turned against me, which wasn’t so bad, and then against you who were more loyal to him than I even. Every cheap, despicable little woman’s trick that a baby could see through was another excuse for turning away from the straightest and most lovable woman in the world and putting a little contemptible, shallow----”

“Jim, please,” interrupted Lucy, stretching out her hand and touching his.

His body stiffened at the contact, but with a strong effort he restrained himself from another outburst.

“Lucy, I can’t help it. His idea of woman is the harem idea. He doesn’t want you because you are too big and too good. She suits him better. They don’t want you. They don’t want us. We’ve only got each other. We need each other, Lucy. I would never have said a word or made a sign if he’d been square--if he’d appreciated you and wanted you. But you’ve wanted honesty in your relation with him, and he couldn’t stand it. He’s failed. He’s had his chance. You don’t owe him anything more, and I don’t. We’re free, Lucy. We’re free to take each other. My darling, if you knew how I love you----” His voice grew husky with emotion.

Lucy rose again, pale as he. Jim sprang to her and placed his hands on her shoulders.

“Lucy! You can’t, you shan’t leave me without saying you love me. I won’t allow you to let a convention rob you of my love. You’re mine, Lucy, mine, mine, mine!” and he strained her to him.

For an instant her resistance was broken and she rested in his arms as though it were at last a place where she could be safe. Then she gently drew herself away and Jim sank into the chair beside her, his head in his hands.

“I’m sorry,” she began in a shaking voice. “I believe you are a noble man, Jim. You stand for more to me now than anyone else in the world, but--I can’t. Poor Jim, I--I----” She was crying softly.

Jim raised his head and looked at her. His eyes hungrily took in the rounded forehead, the straight nose, beautiful in profile, the ear set too high for harmony and spoiling the effect of the line of the jaw, the almost perfect mouth and chin, so appealingly feminine. His gaze devoured her eyes with their clear unflinching depths of honesty, suggesting little of sex as it is generally sought for by men; the brown of her hair with almost golden strands arranged, as always, low on her too generous brow and swept down over her ears with the exact curve that she instinctively knew would hide and pick out all the points that needed suppression or emphasis; her clear skin, so really white and delicate of texture as he knew by the glimpses her morning dresses had given him of her neck down by the shoulder and of the inner surface of her forearms; her hands and feet of normal efficient size, the hands with supple slender fingers widened at the tips; her body, the waist but moderately restricted and the bosom low, suggesting the long and willing nursing of her child--he knew her so well!

Suddenly he groaned. Beads of cold moisture were on his brow.

“I can’t give you up.” He spoke with difficulty. “Lucy, Lucy, he’s not fit for you!”

Lucy did not try to hide the tears that coursed down her cheeks.

“My whole life is yours,” he continued with suppressed intensity. Then, springing to his feet again he strode toward her. “Nothing can keep me away from you, Lucy!” he said hoarsely.

She put out her hand and as it touched his breast he stopped. “I can’t, Jim! Oh, don’t you see I can’t?” she begged.

Then she turned and went swiftly out of the office.

Jim stared at the closed door for several minutes. At last he sat down slowly at his desk. He covered his face with his hands and began to sob.

* * * * *

Lucy walked the streets and the park until dusk.

When she reached home neither John nor Nannie was there.

“Dey’s done et deir dinnah. I ’lows dey’s gone to de t’eayter, Miss Lucy,” volunteered Katy.

Dimmie was asleep on the sofa in the dining room. Lucy carried him upstairs and undressed him.

When the child, whom she but half awakened, had gone to sleep again she lay face downward on the bed and wept until John and Nannie were heard ascending the stairs.

* * * * *

Lucy did not go to breakfast the next morning. Katy came up with a tray.

“I don’t care for any, thank you,” Lucy said through the locked door.

When she descended the stairs she was surprised to find John still at home, smoking by the dining room table. Mrs. Merwent was not to be seen.

“Aren’t you going to the office?” Lucy inquired of him.

“No. I want to talk to you,” he answered. His face was stern and his voice was cold.

“Where’s Mother?”

“She has gone some place with Miss Powell.”

Lucy seated herself by the window.

“I came back to the office yesterday evening,” John began.

Lucy looked at him.

“As I came around the corner I saw you coming out of the building. I went in to see if there were any letters and Jim Sprague was there alone, and, what is more, he seemed very surprised to see me.”

“Well?” Lucy’s tone was dull.

“I want to know what this means. That’s what I want to know.” His voice grew less controlled as he proceeded. They gazed at each other with hostile faces. Dimmie entered the room.

“I’m ready to go to Mrs. Hamilton’s,” he announced.

Lucy kissed him, inspected his clothes, and straightened his hat.

“Good-bye, little son,” she smiled.

“Good-bye, Papa,” Dimmie called as he went out.

“Good-bye,” John responded impatiently.

“What do you send that boy over to Mrs. Hamilton’s every day for?” he demanded harshly.

“To go to kindergarten.”

“Kindergarten! There’s no sense in his going to kindergarten in the summer. But if there was, why couldn’t he go from here?”

“He could.”

“Then what’s the use of bothering your neighbors?”

“I send him early so as to get him away from Mother as much as possible,” admitted Lucy.

“We’ll discuss that later,” John’s lip curled, “but first I want an explanation of why you went to the office yesterday.”

“I shall explain nothing, John,” Lucy answered.

“Did you see Jim Sprague?”

“Yes, I did.”

“Well, didn’t you know I wouldn’t be there?”

“I did.”

“Then why did you pick out a day when I would be away?”

“I wanted to see Jim alone.”

“What for?” John’s face grew redder.

“I wanted to consult him.”

“Alone?” sneered John.

“Yes, alone.”

“What did you need to consult him about?” John demanded in a more peremptory tone.

“That is my own affair, John.”

“Well, it just isn’t your own affair. I’m not going to stand this kind of thing any longer.”

“Neither am I.”

“You won’t have to,” snarled John.

“Exactly. I have decided just that.” He stared at her in astonishment.

“What do you mean, Lucy?” He lowered his voice.

“I mean that I am going to leave.”

“With Jim Sprague?” John almost shouted, springing to his feet and walking back and forth.

“Katy will hear you, John.”

“Damn Katy! I don’t care who hears!” he snapped.

“Very well then. Neither do I,” returned Lucy calmly.

“I’ll just tell you one thing right here,” John continued, “and that is that you and Jim Sprague are not going to take my child away from me.” He was breathing heavily and his eyes were suffused.

“We will settle about the child legally,” replied Lucy, in the same manner, “but you are mistaken about Jim. I am not going away with him. I am going alone.”

“How will you support yourself? I suppose your father’s wife will do that.” John almost ground his teeth.

“She knows nothing about my plans. I shall do anything I can to earn a living for myself and Dimmie. Miss Storms will take me in till I can get started. I can do book binding. I don’t intend ever to be dependent on anybody again.”

A frightened expression came into John’s eyes.

“Lucy, you are crazy! You’re trying to scare me. What reason have you got for leaving your home--your husband and child?”

“I don’t intend to leave my child!” she retorted.

John gazed at her in silence, his face paling. When he spoke again his manner was conciliatory.

“Lucy! Lucy, you don’t know what you are saying.”

“Yes, I do. I know precisely what I am saying.”

“Lucy,” John was on the defensive now. “I can’t understand what has changed you so. I’m not accusing you of anything in regard to Jim Sprague, but it’s natural that I shouldn’t want you to get yourself talked about. You used to think I was always right, but now you seem almost to despise me.” His voice quivered a little. “Let’s talk things over, Lucy, and not go on like this.” The last words were almost beseeching.

“Very well, John, if you really want to talk over matters and are ready to see things squarely, I am ready, too, but if not, I have made up my mind and know exactly what I shall do.”

John sat down again and tried to light a cigarette, but his hand shook so that he desisted and put the cigarette in his pocket.

“What is it, Lucy?” he asked at length.

“Well, in the first place, my mother must leave here.”

“Now, Lucy,” he began querulously, “I knew you were going to say that. Why you should be so prejudiced and so vindictive against Nannie is beyond me. What earthly reason is there for putting _her_ in the street--for she’s got no place to go if she leaves here!”

“If you hadn’t flattered her and influenced her she would probably have been married by now.”

“Lucy!” John was horror stricken. “Married to that----!” He could not find a word to express his feelings. “You are absolutely without heart, Lucy,” he protested.

“Well, if you insist on her staying,” cried Lucy, rising from her chair, “I will apply for a divorce and the custody of my child and will name my mother as correspondent in the case!”

“Lucy!” articulated John. “You’re crazy!”

“No, I’m not crazy,” she went on tensely. “That’s a dozen times you’ve told me I was since she came, but I’m not. You are the one who is crazy, and if you can’t come to your senses in any other way, I’ll bring you to them right now.”

“You wouldn’t dare do such a thing, Lucy! Why, it’s ridiculous,” John argued. “How could you prove such a fantastic joke? Where are your witnesses?” John grew almost hysterical. “You’re crazy, Lucy!”

“You’ll find out I’m sane.” Lucy’s calm was ominous. “There are witnesses enough to prove what she is--my father, Miss Storms, Jim Sprague, the Hamiltons, the two servants we’ve had, and plenty in Russellville. If you think it’s a joke, John Winter, you just go on and find out who the joke is on. Everybody but you sees through her contemptible tricks. I won’t stand it!” she continued wildly. “I’ll go right now. I’m going to kindergarten to get Dimmie. Oh, to think that I ever thought I loved such a pitiable excuse for a man! Let me get away from the sight of you! I hate you! I despise you! I--I--oh! How can I say what I feel for you! Get out of my way!” and she started swiftly for the hall door.

John caught hold of her hand.

“Don’t touch me again--ever--ever!” she almost screamed, wrenching herself free.

“Lucy, Lucy--please--how can you say such things!” John was cowed. He regarded her pleadingly. Tears were in his eyes.

Lucy stood pale and defiant, her eyes shining as if with exaltation.

“Then choose this instant between me and my mother!” she commanded hotly.

“I will, Lucy--I will. If you think best for her to go, I won’t say anything more. But, Lucy----”

“There are no ’buts’ about it,” interrupted Lucy remorselessly.

“I don’t mean that I want her to stay,” explained John hastily, “but you hurt me so when you say such awful things. You have told me a thousand times how you looked up to me, and now, after what you have said, I can never feel that you respect me.” He appeared almost ridiculously like a small boy.

“You’ve hurt _me_, John, for a long time, and that’s why I said them,” Lucy replied more gently.

John sat down in a chair and buried his face in his hands. Suddenly he began to sob, his shoulders heaving and the tears dripping through his fingers. Lucy hesitated and then came slowly up to him and laid her hand on his hair.

“Don’t, John,” she entreated in a soft, almost maternal tone.

“You’ve hurt--me--so,” he faltered abjectly, his voice choked.

“Have I, John? Poor boy! Oh, John, _why_ couldn’t you see without all this?” she whispered wistfully.

“Lucy----” John reached up and put his arm around her. “Lucy--you didn’t mean all those things you said about--about--me--about my being--only an excuse for a man, and about--despising me?” He still kept one hand over his eyes.

Lucy hesitated an instant. “No--John. I don’t think I really meant them,” she admitted.

John reached for his handkerchief and wiped his eyes.

“And you didn’t mean that you hated me?” He pulled her down to his knee. “You still love me, don’t you, Lucy?”

“Yes, John, I still love you.”

They sat several minutes in silence.

“Now I’m going down to the office.” He lifted Lucy up gently and rose from his chair.

She followed him to the hall.

“Good-bye,” he said. He took up his hat and held out his arms. She came into them and he kissed her forehead as of old.

“Good-bye, dear. Come home as early as you can.” Lucy smiled at him as he went down the steps.

She watched him as he halted in the gateway to light a cigarette.

XXIX

John entered the office and, after hesitating slightly, greeted Jim rather ungraciously. Jim’s reply was scarcely audible. Their eyes met for an instant but each showed that he was anxious to avoid the other’s gaze. They exchanged a few necessary remarks. Jim held out the photograph of a lately completed house. His hand was unsteady as he called John’s attention to the picture. John barely glanced at it. Coughing nervously, he walked to the window. After a few moments he murmured something unintelligible about Layard’s and, taking up his hat, went out.

When Jim was alone, he stood irresolute for a time, then, taking his own hat and coat, followed John’s example.

In the street, Jim took the first surface car, without even noticing the destination indicated on the front, and he did not reappear at the office until late that evening.

Nannie did not return to Rosedene until nearly five o’clock in the afternoon. She came at once, through the dining room, into the kitchen where Lucy was making a dessert.

“Just look at my clothes! I have little enough without having this ruined.” Mrs. Merwent held out her linen skirt which was ripped at the hem and had a small tear suggestive of the imprint of a man’s boot heel. “The cars were so crowded! It was so hot standing there and I missed the first train. Miss Powell had an engagement and couldn’t wait with me. If I had only known I was going to be so late I could have gone to John’s office. Hasn’t he come yet?” Nannie’s air was injured.

“No, he hasn’t come yet.” Lucy bent over her work.

“Why, I already told Katy to have peaches and cream!” Mrs. Merwent’s eye took in Lucy’s preparations and her voice rose irritably.

Lucy made no response. “Did you fix the celery soup?” Mrs. Merwent asked the negress.

“No, Miss Nannie. You see Miss Lucy wanted me to have----”

“You needn’t bother about the dinner. Everything is ready,” interrupted Lucy, looking full at her mother.

“Now, Lucy, there was no need for your working in the kitchen. I had instructed Katy about everything, and two heads only make confusion.”

“There’s only one head,” replied Lucy.

“Of course I know that you are the mistress, but I have taken things over for you, and it only mixes things up----”

“You haven’t taken things over,” Lucy interrupted. “I don’t need your help any longer.”

“Why, Lucy----”

“From now on I shall attend to my own household. There is absolutely nothing for you to do.”

“Why, Lucy, what has happened?” demanded Nannie in a voice in which was mingled astonishment and alarm.

“A lot of things have happened, but suppose we don’t talk them over before the servant.” Katy had gone into the dining room.

“Well! When John comes home I think I’ll ask about this!”

“Do,” advised Lucy as Katy returned to the kitchen.

Nannie left the room and went upstairs to experiment with a new device for curling the hair, one of the day’s purchases.

“Hello, Mamma!” shouted Dimmie shortly afterward, coming in from the back yard.

“Hello, Sonny,” beamed Lucy. “Here, let me get you ready for dinner. Papa will be home soon.”

“Has Nannie come?” inquired Dimmie.

“Yes,” answered Lucy, washing his face and hands.

“Where is she?” he insisted. “Don’t wash so hard, Mamma. It hurts.”

“Oh, she’s upstairs, I think. Now come let me brush your hair.”

“I’m goin’ upstairs to see what Nannie’s got for me!” Dimmie was impatient.

John’s key was heard in the latch. “There’s Papa!” exclaimed Lucy. “Let’s run to meet him.” And catching Dimmie’s hand, she ran with him into the hall.

Smiling uneasily, she waited for John. She wore a blue muslin dress and had fastened a half opened white rose in her hair.

“Well, dear,” she greeted him.

His glance passed abstractedly over the dress and the rose. He kissed her forehead but said nothing. He seemed worried and depressed.

“Is anything the matter, John?” she asked, regarding him timidly.

“No-o,” he responded indefinitely.

“I’m here, Papa,” called Dimmie who had not been kissed.

“Yes?” John noticed absently.

“Get washed, dear. Dinner is all ready to put on the table,” said Lucy.

“Has Nannie come back yet?” He avoided Lacy’s gaze as he spoke.

“Yes. She’s in her room.”

John’s frown deepened. He mounted the stairs.

Lucy superintended the placing of the meal on the table and John reappeared almost immediately.

“Isn’t she coming down to dinner?” he inquired nervously.

“Go and call Mrs. Merwent, Katy,” Lucy bade the servant.

Nannie followed Katy downstairs and entered the dining room. Her hair was beautifully curled and as she came in she put her hand to her head with a self conscious gesture.

“Why, how are you, John?” she began. “I didn’t know you had come home.”

The meal proceeded in constrained silence.

“Miss Powell and I had such a nice day,” remarked Nannie at length, “but this evening I got into a jam on the car. I did so wish you had been with me, John. The most insulting man! He crowded me so I almost ruined my dress. But that’s the way with these Chicagoans. If you had been around he would have behaved mighty differently.”

John smiled slightly but kept his eyes on his plate. Neither he nor Lucy replied to the remark. “We thought of coming past your office but we were afraid you might be busy.”

“I’ve been very busy today,” said John.

“Then I’m glad we didn’t. And John, sometime next month I want you to take me up the lake. Miss Powell says it’s such a lovely trip in the early summer. You will, won’t you?”

John fidgeted uncomfortably and Lucy attended assiduously to Dimmie’s wants.

“Why--of course,” John agreed after some hesitation. “That is, so far as I know now.” He laughed uneasily and added, “We may all be dead by that time.”

Silence hovered over the group once more.

“You look frightfully glum, John. I’m almost afraid of you tonight,” observed Mrs. Merwent after some minutes. She, too, laughed rather forcedly as she spoke.

“I didn’t know I was glum,” apologized John. “I’m rather tired. I’ve had a hard day.” It was obvious that he talked with an effort.

“I’m through,” Dimmie announced with a sigh of satisfaction.