The Honorable Peter Stirling and What People Thought of Him
Page 9
CHAPTER IX.
HAPPINESS BY PROXY.
The window of Peter's office faced east, and the rays of the morning sunshining dazzlingly in his eyes forced him back to a consciousness ofthings mundane. He rose, and went downstairs, to find the nightwatch-man just opening the building. Fortunately he had already met theman, so that he was not suspected as an intruder; and giving him apleasant "good-morning," Peter passed into the street. It was a goodmorning indeed, with all that freshness and coolness which even a greatcity cannot take from a summer dawn. For some reason Peter felt moreencouraged. Perhaps it was the consciousness of having beaten hisloneliness and misery by mere physical endurance. Perhaps it was onlythe natural spring of twenty years. At all events, he felt dimly, thatmiserable and unhopeful as the future looked, he was not conquered yet;that he was going to fight on, come what might.
He turned to the river front, and after bargaining with a passing cartfor a pint of what the poorer people of the city buy as milk, he turnednorth, and quickening his pace, walked till he had left the city properand had reached the new avenue or "drive," which, by the liberality ofMr. Tweed with other people's money, was then just approachingcompletion. After walking the length of it, he turned back to hisboarding-place, and after a plunge, felt as if he could face and fightthe future to any extent.
As a result of this he was for the first time late at breakfast Thepresider over the box-office had ascertained that Peter had spent thenight out, and had concluded he would have a gird or two at him. Hefailed, however, to carry out his intention. It was not the first timethat both he and his companions had decided to "roast" Peter, absent,but had done other wise with Peter, present. He had also decided to sayto Peter, "Who's your dandy letter-writer?" But he also failed to dothat. This last intention referred to a letter that lay at Peters place,and which was examined by each of the four in turn. That letter had anair about it. It was written on linen paper of a grade which, if nowcommon enough, was not so common at that time. Then it was postmarkedfrom one of the most, fashionable summer resorts of the country.Finally, it was sealed with wax, then very unusual, and the wax bore theimpression of a crest. They were all rather disappointed when Peter putthat letter in his pocket, without opening it.
Peter read the letter at his office that morning. It was as follows:
GREY-COURT, July 21st.
DEAR. OLD MAN--
Like a fool I overslept myself on the morning you left, so did not get my talk with you. You know I never get up early, and never can, so you have only your refusal to let me in that night to blame for our not having a last chat. If I had had the news to tell you that I now have, I should not have let you keep me out, even if you had forced me to break my way in.
Chum, the nicest girl in the world has told me that she loves me, and we are both as happy as happy can be, I know you will not be in a moment's doubt as to who she is, I have only run down here to break it to my family, and shall go back to the Shrubberies early next week--to talk to Mr. Pierce, you understand!
My governor has decided that a couple of years' travel will keep me out of mischief as well as anything else he can devise, and as the prospect is not unpleasant, I am not going to let my new plans interfere with it, merely making my journeyings a _solitude a deux_, instead of solus. So we shall be married in September, at the Shrubberies, and sail for Europe almost immediately.
Now, I want you to stand by me in this, as you have in other things, and help me through. I want you, in short, to be my "best man" as you have been my Best friend. "Best man," I should inform you, is an English wedding institution, which our swell people have suddenly discovered is a necessity to make a marriage ceremony legal. He doesn't do much. Holding his principal's hat, I believe, is the most serious duty that falls to him, though perhaps not stepping on the bridal dresses is more difficult.
My Mamma wants me to drive with her, so this must be continued in our next.
Aff.,
W.
Peter did not read law that morning. But after sitting in his chair fora couple of hours, looking at the opposite wall, and seeing somethingquite different, he took his pen, and without pause, or change of face,wrote two letters, as follows:
DEAR WATTS:
You hardly surprised me by your letter. I had suspected, both from your frequent visits to the Shrubberies, and from a way in which you occasionally spoke of Miss Pierce, that you loved her. After seeing her, I felt that it was not possible you did not. So I was quite prepared for your news. You have indeed been fortunate in winning such a girl. That I wish you every joy and happiness I need not say.
I think you could have found some other of the fellows better suited to stand with you, but if you think otherwise, I shall not fail you.
You will have to tell me about details, clothes, etc. Perhaps you can suggest a gift that will do? I remember Miss Pierce saying she was very fond of pearls. Would it be right to give something of that kind?
Faithfully yours,
PETER.
DEAR MISS PIERCE:
A letter from Watts this morning tells me of his good fortune. Fearing lest my blindness may perhaps still give you pain, I write to say that your happiness is the most earnest wish of my life, and nothing which increases it can be other than good news to me. If I can ever serve you in any way, you will be doing me a great favor by telling me how.
Please give my regards to Mr. and Mrs. Pierce, and believe me,
Yours ever sincerely,
PETER STIRLING.
After these letters were written, Peter studied the wall again for atime. Studied it till long after the hour when he should have lunched.The wall had three cracks in it which approximated to an outline ofItaly, but though Peter gazed at this particular wall a good many hoursin the next few weeks, he did not discover this interesting fact tilllong after this time of wall-gazing.
In the early morning and after dinner, in spite of the summer heat, hetook long walks. During the day he sat in his office doing nothing, withthe exception of an occasional letter to his mother, and one or two toWatts in respect to the coming wedding. Two visits to the tailor's, andanother to Tiffany's, which resulted in a pearl pin rather out ofproportion to his purse, were almost the sole variations of thisroutine. It was really a relief to this terrible inactivity, when hefound himself actually at the Shrubberies, the afternoon before thewedding.
Peter was rather surprised at the ease with which he went through thenext twenty-four hours. It is true that the house was too full, and eachperson too busy, to trouble the silent groomsman with attention, so hemight have done pretty much what he wished, without being noticed. Hearrived late, thus having no chance for greetings till after a hurrieddressing for dinner, when they were made in the presence of the wholeparty, who had waited his coming to go to the meal. He went through theordeal well, even that with Miss Pierce, actually showing lessembarrassment than she did. What was more astonishing, he calmly offeredhis arm to the bridesmaid who fell to his lot, and, after seating her,chatted without thinking that he was talking. Indeed, he hardly heededwhat he did say, but spoke mechanically, as a kind of refuge fromthought and feeling.
"I didn't find him a bit so," the girl said to Miss Pierce, later in theevening, with an indefiniteness which, if not merely feminine, mustpresuppose a previous conversation. "He isn't exactly talkative, but heis perfectly easy to get on with. I tried him on New York, and found hehad gone into a good many odd places and can tell about them. Hedescribes things very well, so that one sees them."
"It must be your tact, then, Miss Leroy," said Mrs. Pierce, "for wecould get nothing out of him before."
"No? I had nothing to do with it, and, between ourselves, I think hedisapproved of me. If Helen hadn't told me about him, I should have beenvery cool to him, his manner was so objectionable. He clearly talked t
ome because he felt it a duty, and not a pleasure."
"That's only that unfortunate manner of his," said Helen. "I reallythink at heart he's dreadfully afraid of us. At least that's what Wattssays. But he only behaves as if--as if--well, you know what I mean,Alice!"
"Exactly," said Alice. "You can't describe it. He's so cool, and stolid,and silent, that you feel shoddy and cheap, and any simple little remarkdoesn't seem enough to say. You try to talk up to him, and yet feelsmall all the time."
"Not at all," said Helen. "You talk down to him, as if hewere--were--your old grandfather, or some one else you admired, butthought very dull and old-fashioned."
"But the worst is the way he looks at you. So gravely, even when you tryto joke. Now I really think I'm passably pretty, but Mr. Stirling saidas plainly as could be: 'I look at you occasionally because that's theproper thing to do, when one talks, but I much prefer looking at thatpicture over your head.' I don't believe he noticed how my hair wasdressed, or the color of my eyes. Such men are absolutely maddening.When they've finished their smoke, I'm going to make him notice me."
But Miss Leroy failed in her plan, try as she would. Peter did notnotice girls any more. After worrying in his school and college days,over what women thought of him and how they treated him, he had suddenlyceased to trouble himself about them. It was as if a man, after longstriving for something, had suddenly discovered that he did not wishit--that to him women's opinions had become worthless. Perhaps in thiscase it was only the Fox and the Grapes over again. At all events, fromthis time on Peter cared little what women did. Courteous he tried tobe, for he understood this to be a duty. But that was all. They mightlaugh at him, snub him, avoid him. He cared not. He had struck women outof his plan of life. And this disregard, as we have already suggested,was sure to produce a strange change, not merely in Peter, but inwomen's view and treatment of him. Peter trying to please them, by dull,ordinary platitudes, was one thing. Peter avoiding them and talking tothem when needs must, with that distant, uninterested look and voice,was quite another.
The next morning, Peter, after finding what a fifth wheel in a coach allmen are at weddings, finally stood up with his friend. He had not beenasked to stay on for another night, as had most of the bridal party, sohe slipped away as soon as his duty was done, and took a train that puthim into New York that evening. A week later he said good-bye to theyoung couple, on the deck of a steamship.
"Don't forget us, Peter," shouted Watts, after the fasts were cast offand the steamer was slowly moving into mid-stream.
Peter waved his hat, and turning, walked off the pier.
"Could he forget them?" was the question he asked himself.