CHAPTER XXXI
Eleanor had no intention of going to Mrs. Newbolt's. "She'd talk Edithto me!" she said to herself; "I _can't_ understand why she likes her!"Instead of dining with her aunt, she meant to walk about the streetsuntil she was sure that Maurice had started for the train; then shewould go back to her own house. So she wandered down the avenue until,tired of looking with unseeing eyes into shop windows, it occurred toher to go into the park; there, on a bench on one of the unfrequentedpaths, she sat down, hoping that no one would recognize her; it wascold, and she shivered and looked at her watch. Only six o'clock! Itwould be two hours before Maurice would leave the house for the station.It seemed absurd to be here in the dampness of the March evening; butshe couldn't go home and get into any discussion with him; she mightburst out again about Edith!--which always made him angry. She wishedthat she had not told him that Edith was in love with him. "It ought todisgust him, but it might flatter him!" And she oughtn't to have saidthat other thing; she oughtn't to have accused him of caring for Edith."Of course he doesn't. And it was a horrid thing to say. I was angry,because I was jealous; but it wasn't true. I wish I hadn't said it. I'llwrite to him, and ask him to forgive me." But the other thing _was_true: "I saw it in her eyes! She loves him. But I oughtn't to have putthe idea into his head!"
The more she thought of what she had put into Maurice's head, the moreuneasy she became. Oh, if she only had Jacky! Then, Edith could be asbrazen as she pleased, and Maurice would never notice her! "Of course hedoesn't love her; I'm certain of _that_!" she said again andagain,--and all her schemes, wise and foolish, for getting possessionof the boy, began to crowd into her mind.
Then an idea came to her which fairly took her breath away! A perfectlywild idea, which she dared not stop to analyze: suppose, instead ofsitting here in the cold, she should go, now, boldly, to Lily, and askfor Jacky? "I believe _I_ could persuade her to give him to us! Shewouldn't do it for Maurice, but she might for me!"
She got on her feet with a spring! Her spiritual energy was like herphysical energy that night on the mountain. Again she waslifting--lifting! This time it was the weight of a Love which might die!She was dragging it, carrying it! her very soul straining under herpurpose of keeping it alive by the touch of a child's hand! ... Why notgo and see Lily _now_? "She'll have finished her supper by the time Iget to her house; it's at the very end of Maple Street!" If Lilyconsented, Eleanor might even get back to her own house in time to seeMaurice, and tell him what she had accomplished before he started forhis train! But she would have to hurry....
She actually ran out of the park toward the street; then stood for anendless five minutes, waiting for the Medfield car. "Perhaps I can makeher let me bring Jacky home with me!" she said--which showed to whatheights beyond common sense she had risen.
At the little house on Maple Street she rang the bell, though she had acrazy impulse to bang upon the door to hurry Lily! But she rang, andrang again, before she heard a child's voice: "Maw. Somebody at thedoor."
"Well, go open it, can't you?"
She heard little scuffing steps on the oilcloth in the hall; then thedoor opened, and Jacky stood there. He fixed his blue, impersonal eyesupon her, and waited.
"Is your mother in?" Eleanor said, breathlessly.
"Yes, ma'am," said Jacky.
"Who is it?" Lily called to him; she was somewhere in the back of thehouse, and Eleanor could hear the clatter of dishes being gathered upfrom an unseen supper table. Jacky, unable to answer his mother'squestion, was calmly silent.
"My land! That child's a reg'lar dummy! Jacky, who _is_ it?"
"_I_ do' know," Jacky called back.
"I am Mrs. Curtis," Eleanor said; "I want to see your mother."
"She says," Jacky called--then paused, because it occurred to him tohang on to the door knob and swing back and forth, his heels scrapingover the oilcloth; "she says," said Jacky, "she's Mrs. Curtis."
The noise of the dishes stopped short. In the dining room Lily stoodstock-still; "My God!" she said. Then her eyes narrowed and her jaw set;she whipped off her apron and turned down her sleeves; she had made upher mind: "_I'll lie it through._"
She came out in the hall, which was scented with rose geraniums andreeked with the smell of bacon fat, and said, with mincing politeness,"Were you wishing to see me?"
"Yes," Eleanor said.
"Step right in," said Lily, opening the parlor door. "Won't you beseated?" Then she struck a match on the sole of her shoe, lit the gas,blew out the match, and turned to look at her visitor. She put her handover her mouth and gasped. Under her breath she said, "His _mother_!"
"Mrs. Dale," Eleanor began--
"Well, there!" said Lily, pleasantly (but she was pale); "I guess youhave the advantage of me. What did you say your name was?"
"My name is Curtis. Mrs. Dale, I--I know about your little boy."
"Is that so?" Lily said, with the simper proper when speaking tostrangers.
"I mean," Eleanor said, "I know about--" her lips were so dry shestopped to moisten them--"about Mr. Curtis and you."
"I ain't acquainted with your son."
Eleanor caught her breath, but went on, "I haven't come to reproachyou."
Lily tossed her head. "Reproach? _Me?_ Well, I must say, I don't see nocause why you should! _I_ don't know no Mr. Curtis!" She was alertly onguard for Maurice; "I guess you've mixed me up with some other lady."
"Please!" Eleanor said; "I _know_. He told me--about Jacky."
Instantly Lily's desire to defend Maurice was tempered by impatiencewith him; the idea of him letting on to his mother! Then, noticing herboy, who was silently observing the caller from the doorway, she said:
"Jacky! Go right out of this room."
"Won't," said Jacky. "She gimme the horn," he remarked.
"Aw, now, sweety, go on out!" Lily entreated.
Jacky said, calmly, "Won't."
At which his mother got up and stamped her foot. "Clear right out ofthis room, or I'll see to you! Do you hear me? Go on, now, or I'll giveyou a reg'lar spanking!"
Jacky ran. He never obeyed her when he could help it, but he alwaysrecognized the moment when he couldn't help it. Lily closed the door,and stood with her back against it, looking at her caller.
"Well," she said, "if you _are_ on to it, I'm sure you ain't going tomake trouble for him with his wife."
"I am his wife."
"His _wife_?" They looked at each other for a speechess moment. Then thetears sprang to Lily's eyes. "Oh, you poor soul!" she said. "Say, don'tfeel bad! It's pretty near ten years ago; he was just a kid. Sincethen--honest to God, I give you my word, he 'ain't hardly said 'How doyou do' to me!"
"I know," Eleanor said; her hands were gripped hard together; "I knowthat. I know he has been ... perfectly true to me--lately. I am notsaying a word about that. It's the child. I want to make a propositionto you about the child." Her lips trembled, but she smiled; sheremembered to smile, because if she didn't look pleasant Lily might getangry. She was a little frightened; but she gave a nervous laugh. Shespoke with gentleness, almost with sweetness. "I came to see you, Mrs.Dale, because I hope you and I can make some arrangement about thelittle boy. I want to help you by relieving you of--of his support. Imean," said Eleanor, still smiling with her trembling lips, "I mean, Iwill take him, and bring him up, so as to save you the expense." Lily'samazed recoil made her break into entreaty; "My husband wants him, and Ido, too! I thought perhaps you'd let him go home with me to-night? I--Ipromise I'll take the best of care of him!"
Lily was too dumfounded to speak, but her thoughts raced. "For theland's sake!" she said under her breath. She was sitting down now, buther hands in her lap had doubled into rosy fighting fists.
Her silence terrified Eleanor. "If you'll give him to me," she said, "Iwill do anything for you--anything! If you'll just let Mr. Curtis havehim." She did not mean to, but suddenly she was crying, and began tofumble for her handkerchief.
"Well, if this ain't the limit!" said Lily,
and jumped up and ran toher, and put her arms around her. ("Here, take mine! It's clean.") "Say,I'm that sorry for you, I don't know what to do!" Her own tearsoverflowed.
Eleanor, wincing away from the gush of perfumery from the little cleanhandkerchief, clutched at Lily's small plump hand--"_I'll_ tell you whatto do," Eleanor said; "_Give me Jacky!_"
Lily, kneeling beside her, cried, honestly and openly. "There!--now!"she said, patting Eleanor's shoulder; "don't you cry! Mrs. Curtis, nowlook,"--she spoke soothingly, as if to a child, with her arm aroundEleanor--"you know I _can't_ let my little boy go? Why, think how you'dfeel yourself, if you had a little boy and anybody tried to get him.Would you give him up? 'Course you wouldn't! Why, I wouldn't let Jackygo away from me, even for a day, not for the world! An' he ain'tanything to Mr. Curtis. Honest! That's the truth. Now, don't you cry,dear!"
"You can see him often; I promise you, you can see him."
In spite of her pity, Lily's yellow eyes gleamed: "'See' my own child?Well, I guess!"
"I'll give you anything," Eleanor said; "I have a little money--aboutsix hundred dollars a year; I'll give it to you, if you'll let Mr.Curtis have him."
"Sell Jacky for six hundred dollars?" Lily said. "I wouldn't sell himfor six thousand dollars, or six million!" She drew away from Eleanor'sbeseeching hands. "How long has Mr. Curtis thought enough of Jacky topay six hundred dollars for him? You can tell Mr. Curtis, from me, thatI ain't no cheap trader, to give away my child for six hundred dollars!"She sprang up, putting her clenched fists on her fat hips, and waggingher head. "Why," she demanded, raucously, "didn't you have a child ofyour own for him, 'stead of trying to get another woman's child awayfrom her?"
It was a hideous blow. Eleanor gasped with pain; and instantly Lily'sanger was gone.
"Say! I didn't mean that! 'Course you couldn't, at your age. I oughtn'tto have said it!"
Eleanor, dumb for a moment after that deadly question, began, faintly:"Mr. Curtis will do so much for him, Mrs. Dale; he'll educate him,and--"
"I can educate him," Lily said; "you tell Mr. Curtis that; you tell himI thank him for nothing!--_I_ can educate my child to beat the band. Idon't want any help from _him_. But--" she was on her knees again,stroking Eleanor's shoulder--"but if he's mean to you because youhaven't had any children, I--I--I'll see to him! Well--I've alwaysthought, what with him fussing about 'grammar,' and 'truth,' he'd be ahard man to live with. But if he's been mean to you he'd ought to beashamed of himself!"
"Oh, he doesn't even know that I have come!" Eleanor said; "he mustn'tknow it. Oh, please!" She was terrified. "Don't tell him, Mrs. Dale.Promise me you won't! He would be angry."
Her frightened despair was pitiful; Lily was at her wits' end. "My souland body!" she thought, "what am I going to do with her?" But what wasall this business? Mrs. Curtis asking for Jacky--and Mr. Curtis notknowing it? What was all this funny business? "Now I tell you," shesaid; "you and me are just two ladies who understand each other, and I'mgoing to be straight with you: if Mr. Curtis is trying to get my childaway from me, he'll have a sweet time doing it! There's other placesthan Medfield to live in. I have a friend in New York, a society lady;she's always after me to come and live there. Mind! I'm not mad at_you_, you poor woman that couldn't have a baby--it's him I'm mad at! Heknows Jacky is mine, and I'll go to New York before I'll--"
"Oh, don't say that!" Eleanor pleaded; "my husband hasn't tried to getJacky; it's just I!"
She saw, with panic, that what Maurice had said was true--Lily might"run"! If she did, there would be no hope of getting Jacky ... and Edithwould be in Mercer....
"Mrs. Dale, _promise_ me you'll stay in Medfield? It was only I who wastrying to get Jacky; Mr. Curtis never thought of such a thing! I wantedhim. I'd do everything for him; I'd--I'd give him music lessons."
"Honest," said Lily, soberly, "I believe you're crazy."
She looked crazy--this poor, gray-haired woman of pitiful dignity andbreeding. ("I bet she's sixty!" Lily thought)--this old, childlesswoman, with a "Mrs." to her name, pleading with a mother to give up herboy, so he could have "music lessons"! "And Mr. Curtis's up against_that_," Lily thought, and instantly her anger at Maurice ebbed. "There,dear," she said, touching Eleanor's wet cheeks gently with that perfumedhandkerchief; "I don't believe you've had any supper. I'm going to getyou something to eat--"
"No, please; _please_ no!" Eleanor said. She had risen. She thought,"If she says 'dear' again, I'll--I'll die!" ... "I promise you on myword of honor," she said, faintly, "that I won't try to take Jacky awayfrom you, if--" she paused; it was terrible to have a secret with thiswoman; it put her in her power, but she couldn't help it--"I won't tryto get him, if you won't tell Mr. Curtis that I ... have been here?_Please_ promise me!"
"Don't you worry," Lily said, reassuringly; "I won't give you away tohim."
Eleanor was moving, stumbling a little, toward the door; Lily hesitated,then ran and caught her own coat and hat from the rack in the hall.
"Wait!" she said, pinning her hat on at a hasty and uncertain angle;"I'm going with you! It ain't right for you to go by yourself ...Jacky," she called out to the kitchen, "you be a good boy! Maw'll behome soon."
Eleanor shook her head in wordless protest. But Lily had tucked her handunder her arm, and was walking along beside her. "He ought to look outfor you!" Lily said; "I declare, I've a mind to tell that man what Ithink of him!" On the car, while Eleanor with shaking hands was openingher purse, Lily quickly paid both fares, saying, politely, in answer toEleanor's confused protest, "_That's_ all right!" There was no talkbetween them. Lily was too perplexed to say anything, and Eleanor wastoo frightened. So they rode, side by side, almost to Maurice's door.There, standing on the step while Eleanor took her latch key from herpocketbook, Lily said, cheerfully, "Now you go and get a cup oftea--you're all wore out!" Then she hurried off to catch a Medfield car."I declare," said little Lily, "I don't know which is the worse off, himor her!"
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