CHAPTER XIII
"Why, Sylvia, my dear! I never dreamed that you would come to meet me!"
Austin was, indeed, almost beside himself with surprise and delight when,as he left the train and walked down the long platform in the GrandCentral Station, he saw Sylvia, dressed in pure white serge, standingnear the gate. He waved his hat like a schoolboy, and hurried forward,setting down his suit-case to grip her hands in both of his.
"Have you had any breakfast?" she asked, as they started off.
"Yes, indeed, an hour ago."
"Then where would you like to go first? I have the motor here, and we'reboth entirely at your disposal."
He hesitated a moment, and then said, laughing, "It didn't occur to methat you'd come to the station, and I fully intended to go somewhere andget a hair-cut that wouldn't proclaim me as coming straight fromHamstead, Vermont, and replenish the wardrobe that looked soinexhaustible to me last fall, before I presented myself to you."
Sylvia joined in his laugh. "Go ahead. I'll sit in the motor and waitfor you. Afterwards we'll go shopping together."
"To buy things like these?" he asked, eyeing her costume with approval.
"No. I have enough clothes now. I was going to begin choosing ourfurniture--and thought you might be interested. Get in, dear, this isours," she said, walking up to the limousine which Sally had describedwith such enthusiasm, and which now stood waiting for her, its door heldopen by a French chauffeur, who was smiling with true Gallic appreciationof his mistress's "affaire de coeur," "and here," she added, after theywere comfortably seated inside, taking a gardenia from the flower-holder,"is a posy I've got for you."
"Thank you. Have you anything else?" he asked, folding his hand over hersas she pinned it on.
"Oh, Austin, you're such a funny lover!"
"Why?"
"Because you nearly always--ask beforehand. Why don't you take whatyou've a perfect right to--if you want it?"
"Possibly because I don't feel I have a perfect right to--or sure that Ihave any right at all," he answered gravely, "and I can't believe it'sreally real yet, anyway. You see, I only had two days with you--the newway--before you left, and I had no means of knowing when I should haveany more--and a good deal of doubt as to whether I deserved any."
There was no reproach in the words at all, but so much genuinehumility and patience that Sylvia realized more keenly than ever howselfish she had been.
"You'll make me cry if you talk to me like that!" she said quickly. "Oh,Austin, I've countless things to say to you, but first of all I want totell you that I'll never leave you like this again, that it's--just asreal as _I am_, that you can have just as many days as you care to now,and that I'll spend them all showing you how much right you have!" Andshe threw her arms around his neck and drew his face down to hers,oblivious alike of Andre on the front seat and all the passing crowds onFifth Avenue.
"Don't," Austin said after a moment. "We mustn't kiss each other likethat when some one might see us--I forgot, for a minute, that there_was_ any one else in the world! Besides, I'm afraid, if we do, I'll letmyself go more than I mean to--it's all been stifled inside me solong--and be almost rough, and startle or hurt you. I couldn't bear tohave that happen to you--again. I want you always to feel safe andshielded with me."
"Safe! I hope I'll be as safe in heaven as I am with you! Don't you thinkI know what you've been through this last year?"
"No, I don't," he said passionately; "I hope not, anyway. And that wasbefore I ever touched you, besides. It's different now. I shan't kiss youagain to-day, my dear, except"--raising her hand to his lips--"like this.Are you going to wait for me here?" he ended quietly, as the motor beganto slow down in front of the Waldorf.
"No," she said, her voice trembling; "I'm going to church, 'to thank God,kneeling, for a good man's love.' Come for me there, when you're ready."
"Are you in earnest?"
"I never was more so."
He joined her at St. Bartholomew's an hour later, and seeking her out,knelt beside her in the quiet, dim church, empty except for themselves.She felt for his hand, and gripping it hard, whispered with downcast eyesand flushed cheeks:
"Austin, I have a confession to make."
"Of course, you have--I knew that from the moment I got your telegram.Well, how bad is it?" he said, trying to make his voice sound as light aspossible. But her courage had apparently failed her, for she did notanswer, so at last he went on:
"You didn't miss me much, at first, did you? When you thought of me Iseemed a little--not much, of course, but quite an important little--outof focus on the only horizon that your own world sees. Well, I knew thatwas bound to happen, and that if you really cared for me as much as youthought you did at the farm, it was just as well that it should--foryou'd soon find out how much your own horizon had broadened andbeautified. Don't blame yourself too much for that. I suppose the worstconfession, however, is that something occurred to make you long, just alittle, to have me with you again--just as you were glad to see me comeinto the room the last day our minister called. What was it?"
"Austin! How can you guess so much?"
"Because I care so much. Go on."
"People began to make love to me," she faltered, "and at first Idid--like it. I--flirted just a little. Then--oh, Austin, don't make metell you!"
"I never imagined," he said grimly, "that Thomas and Mr. Jessup werethe only men who would ever look at you twice. I suppose I've got toexpect that men are going to _try_ to make love to you always--unless Ilock you up where no one but me can see you, and that doesn't seem verypractical in this day and generation! But I don't see any reason--ifyou love me--why you should _let_ them. You have certainly got to tellme, Sylvia."
"I will not, if you speak to me that way," she flashed back. "Why shouldI? You wouldn't tell me all the foolish things you ever did!"
"Yes, Sylvia, I will," he said gravely, "as far as I can withoutincriminating anybody else--no man has a right to kiss--or do more thanthat--and tell, in such a way as to betray any woman--no matter what sortshe is. Some of the things I've done wouldn't be pleasant, either to sayor to hear; for a man who is as hopeless as I was before you came to usis often weak enough to be perilously near being wicked. But if you wishto be told, you have every right to. And so have I a right to an answerto my question. No one knows better than I do that I'm not worthy of youin any way. But you must think I am or you wouldn't marry me, and ifyou're going to be my wife, you've got to help me to keep you--as sacredto me as you are now. Shall I tell first, or will you? A church is awonderful place for a confession, you know, and it would be much betterto have it behind us."
"You needn't tell at all," she said, lifting her face and showing as shedid so the tears rolling down her cheeks. "_Weak_! You're as strong assteel! If all men were like you, there wouldn't be anything for me totell either. But they're not. The night before I telegraphed you, an oldfriend brought me home after a dinner and theatre party. We had all hadan awfully gay time, and--well, I think it was a little _too_ gay. Thisman wanted to marry me long ago, and I think, perhaps, I would haveaccepted him once--if he'd--had any money. But he didn't then--he's madea lot since. He began to pay me a good deal of attention again theinstant I got back to New York, and I was glad to see him again, and--Ofcourse, I ought to have told him about you right off, but some way, Ididn't. I always liked him a lot, and I enjoyed--just having him roundagain. I thought that if he began to show signs of--getting restive--Icould tell him I was engaged, and that would put an end to it. But hedidn't show any signs--any _preliminary_ signs, I mean, the way menusually do. He simply--suddenly broke loose on the way home that night,and when I refused him, he said most dreadful things to me, and--"
"Took you in his arms by force, and kissed you, in spite of yourself."Austin finished the sentence for her speaking very quietly.
"Oh, Austin, _please_ don't look at me like that! I couldn't help it!"
"Couldn't help it! No, I suppose you struggled and fought and cal
led himall kinds of hard names, and then you sent for me, expecting me to go tohim and do the same. Well, I shan't do anything of the sort. I think youwere twice as much to blame as he was. And if you ever--let yourselfin for such an experience again, I'll never kiss you again--that'sperfectly certain."
"_Austin!_"
"Well, I mean it--just that. I don't know much about society, but I knowsomething about women. There are women who are just plain bad, and womenwho are harmless enough, and attractive, in a way, but so cheap andtawdry that they never attract very deeply or very long, and women whoare good as gold, but who haven't a particle of--allure--I don't know howelse to put it--Emily Brown's one of them. Then there are women like you,who are fine, and pure, and--irresistibly lovely as well; who never do orsay or even think anything that is indelicate, but whom no man can lookat without--wanting--and who--consciously or unconsciously--I hope thelatter--tempt him all the time. You apparently feel free to--play withfire--feeling sure you won't get even scorched yourself, and not caring arap whether any one else gets burnt; and then you're awfully surprisedand insulted and all that if the--the victim of the fire, in his firstpain, turns on you. 'Said dreadful things to you'--I should think hewould have, poor devil! Perhaps young girls don't realize; but a womanover twenty, especially if she's been married, has only herself to blameif a man loses his head. Were you sweet and tender and--_aloof_, justbecause you were sick and disgusted and disillusioned, instead ofbecause that was the real _you_--are you going to prove true to yourmother's training, after all, now that you're happy and well and safeagain? If you have shown me heaven--only to prove to me that it was amirage--you might much better have left me in what I knew was hell!"
He left her, so abruptly that she could not tell in which direction hehad turned, nor at first believe that he had really gone. Then she kneltfor what seemed to her like hours, the knowledge of the justice of all hehad said growing clearer every minute, the grief that she had hurt him sogrowing more and more intolerable, the hopelessness of asking hisforgiveness seeming greater and greater It did not occur to her to try tofind him, or to expect that he would come back--she must stay there untilshe could control her tears, and then she must go home. A few women,taking advantage of the blessed custom which keeps nearly all Anglicanand Roman churches open all day for rest, meditation, and prayer, camein, stayed a few minutes, and left again. At eleven o'clock there was ashort service, the daily Morning Prayer, sparsely attended. Sylvia kneltand stood, mechanically, with the other worshippers. Then suddenly, justbefore the benediction was pronounced, Austin slid into the seat besideher, and groped for her hand. Neither spoke, nor could have spoken;indeed, there seemed no need of words between them. A very great love isusually too powerful to brook the interference of a question offorgiveness. The clergyman's voice rose clear and comforting over them:
"'The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, and the love of God, and thefellowship of the Holy Ghost, be with us all ever more. Amen.'"
"Is there a flower-shop near here?" was the perfectly commonplacequestion Austin asked as they went down the church steps together intothe spring sunshine.
"Yes, just a few steps away. Why?"
"I want to buy you some violets--the biggest bunch I can get."
"Aren't you rather extravagant?"
"Not at all. The truth is, I've come into a large fortune!"
"Austin! What do you mean?"
He evaded her question, smiling, bought her an enormous bouquet, and thensuggested that if her destination was not too far away they should walk.She dismissed the smiling Andre, and walked beside Austin in silence fora few minutes hoping that he would explain without being asked again.
"Did you say you were going to Tiffany's to buy furniture--I thoughtTiffany's was a jewelry store, and in the opposite direction?"
"It is. I'm going to the Tiffany Studios--quite a different place.Austin--don't tease me--do tell me what you mean?"
"Why? Surely you're not marrying me for my money!"
"Good gracious, you plague like a little boy! Please!"
"Well, a great-aunt who lived in Seattle, and whom I haven't seen in tenyears, has died and left me all her property!"
"How much?"
"Mercy, Sylvia, how mercenary you are! Enough so you won't have to buy mycigars and shoe-strings--aren't you glad?"
"Of course, but I wish you'd stop fooling and tell me all about it."
"Well, I shan't--if I did you'd make fun of me, because it would seem sosmall to you, and I want to be just as lavish and extravagant as I likewith it all the time I'm in New York--you'll have to let me 'treat' now!And just think! I'll be able to pay my own expenses when I take thattrip to Syracuse which you seem to think is going to complete myagricultural education. Peter's going with me, and I imagine we'll be acheerful couple!"
"How are things going in that quarter?"
"Rather rapidly, I imagine. I've given father one warning, and Ishan't interfere again, bless their hearts! I caught him kissing heron the back stairs the other night, but I walked straight on andpretended not to see."
"Thereby earning their everlasting gratitude, of course, poor babies!"
"How many years older than Edith are you?"
"Never mind, you saucy boy! Here we are--have you any suggestions youmay not care to make before the clerks as to what kind of furniture Ishall buy?"
"None at all. I want to see for myself how much sense you have in certaindirections, and if I don't like your selections, I warn you beforehandthat the offending articles will be used for kindling wood."
"Do be careful what you say. They know me here."
"Careful what _I_ say! I shall be a regular wooden image. They'll thinkI'm your second cousin from Minnesota, being shown the sights."
He did, indeed, display such stony indifference, and maintain such anexpression of stolid stupidity, that Sylvia could hardly keep her facestraight, and having chosen a big sofa and a rug for her living-room, andher dining-room table, she announced that she "would come in again" andgraciously departed.
"I have a good mind to shake you!" she said as they went down the steps."I had no idea you were such a good actor--we'll have to get up somedramatics when we get home. Did you like my selections?"
"Very much, as far as they went. Where are you going now--I see thatyour grinning Frenchman and upholstered palace on wheels are waiting foryou again."
"Well, I can't walk _all_ day--I'm going to Macy's to buy kitchen-ware.You'd better do something else--I'm afraid you'll criticize my brooms andsaucepans!"
"All right, go alone. I'm going to the real Tiffany's."
"What for?"
"To squander my fortune, Pauline Pry. I'll meet you at Sherry's atone-thirty. I suppose some kindly policeman will guide my falteringfootsteps in the right direction. Good-bye." And he closed the door ofthe car in her radiant face.
They had a merry lunch an hour later, Austin ordering the meal and payingfor it with such evident pleasure that Sylvia could not help beingtouched at his joy over his little legacy. Then he proposed that,although they were a little late, they might go to a matinee, andafterwards insisted on walking up Fifth Avenue and stopping for tea atthe Plaza.
"I've seen more beautiful cities than New York," he said, as theysauntered along, much more slowly than most of the hurryingthrong,--"Paris, for instance--fairly alive with loveliness! But I don'tbelieve there's a place in the world that gives you the feeling of_power_ that this does--especially just at this time of day, when thelights are coming on, and all these multitudes of people going home aftertheir day's work or pleasure. It's tremendous--lifts you right off yourfeet--do you know what I mean?"
They reached home a little after six, to find Uncle Mat, whose existencethey had completely forgotten, waiting for them with his eyes glued tothe clock.
"I was about to have the Hudson River dragged for you two," he said, asAustin wrung his hand and Sylvia kissed him penitently. "Where _have_ youbeen? I came home to lunch, and made several appointments to
introduceAustin to some very influential men, who I think would make valuableacquaintances for him. It's inexcusable, Sylvia, for you to monopolizehim this way."
The happy culprits exchanged glances, and then Sylvia linked her arm inAustin's and got down on her knees, dragging him after her.
"I suppose we may as well confess," she said, "because you'd guess itinside of five minutes, anyway. Please don't be very angry with us."
"What _are_ you talking about? Austin, can you explain? Has Sylvia takenleave of her senses?"
"I'm afraid so, sir," said Austin, with mock gravity; "it certainlylooks that way. For about six weeks ago she told me that--some time inthe dim future, of course--she might possibly be prevailed upon tomarry me!"
Uncle Mat declared afterwards that this last shock was too much for him,and that he swooned away. But all that Austin and Sylvia could rememberwas that after a moment of electrified silence, he embraced them both,exclaiming, "Bless my stars! I never for one moment suspected that shehad that much sense!"
The Old Gray Homestead Page 13
