XLI.
Mavering came to lunch the next day, and had a word with Mrs. Pasmerbefore Alice came in. Mr. Pasmer usually lunched at the club.
"We don't see much of Mrs. Saintsbury nowadays," he suggested.
"No; it's a great way to Cambridge," said Mrs. Pasmer, stifling, in alittle sigh of apparent regret for the separation, the curiosity shefelt as to Dan's motive in mentioning Mrs. Saintsbury. She was verypatient with him when he went on.
"Yes, it is a great way. And a strange thing about it is that whenyou're living here it's a good deal further from Boston to Cambridgethan it is from Cambridge to Boston."
"Yes," said Mrs. Pasmer; "every one notices that."
Dan sat absently silent for a time before he said, "Yes, I guess I mustgo out and see Mrs. Saintsbury."
"Yes, you ought. She's very fond of you. You and Alice ought both togo."
"Does Mrs. Saintsbury like me?" asked Dan. "Well, she's awfully nice.Don't you think she's awfully fond of formulating people?"
"Oh, everybody in Cambridge does that. They don't gossip; they merelyaccumulate materials for the formulation of character."
"And they get there just the same!" cried Dan. "Mrs. Saintsbury used tothink she had got me down pretty fine," he suggested.
"Yes!" said Mrs. Pasmer, with an indifference which they both knew shedid not feel.
"Yes. She used to accuse me of preferring to tack, even in a fair wind."
He looked inquiringly at Mrs. Pasmer; and she said, "How ridiculous!"
"Yes, it was. Well, I suppose I am rather circuitous about some things."
"Oh, not at all!"
"And I suppose I'm rather a trial to Alice in that way."
He looked at Mrs. Pasmer again, and she said: "I don't believe you are,in the least. You can't tell what is trying to a girl."
"No," said Dan pensively, "I can't." Mrs. Pasmer tried to render theinterest in her face less vivid. "I can't tell where she's going tobring up. Talk about tacking!"
"Do you mean the abstract girl; or Alice?"
"Oh, the abstract girl," said Dan, and they laughed together. "You thinkAlice is very straightforward, don't you?"
"Very," said Mrs. Pasmer, looking down with a smile--"for a girl."
"Yes, that's what I mean. And don't you think the most circuitous kindof fellow would be pretty direct compared with the straight-forwardestkind of girl?"
There was a rueful defeat and bewilderment in Dan's face that made Mrs.Pasmer laugh. "What has she been doing now?" she asked.
"Mrs. Pasmer," said Dan, "you and I are the only frank and open people Iknow. Well, she began to talk last night about influence--the influenceof other people on us; and she killed off nearly all the people I likebefore I knew what she was up to, and she finished with Mrs. Brinkley.I'm glad she didn't happen to think of you, Mrs. Pasmer, or I shouldn'tbe associating with you at the present moment." This idea seemed to giveMrs. Pasmer inexpressible pleasure. Dan went on: "Do you quite seethe connection between our being entirely devoted to each other and mydropping Mrs. Brinkley?"
"I don't know," said Mrs. Pasmer. "Alice doesn't like satirical people."
"Well, of course not. But Mrs. Brinkley is such an admirer of hers."
"I dare say she tells you so."
"Oh, but she is!"
"I don't deny it," said Mrs. Pasmer. "But if Alice feels somethinginimical--antipatico--in her atmosphere, it's no use talking."
"Oh no, it's no use talking, and I don't know that I want to talk."After a pause, Mavering asked, "Mrs. Pasmer, don't you think thatwhere two people are going to be entirely devoted to each other, andself-sacrificing to each other, they ought to divide, and one do all thedevotion, and the other all the self-sacrifice?"
Mrs. Pasmer was amused by the droll look in Dan's eyes. "I think theyought to be willing to share evenly," she said.
"Yes; that's what I say--share and share alike. I'm not selfish aboutthose little things." He blew off a long sighing breath. "Mrs. Pasmer,don't you think we ought to have an ideal of conduct?"
Mrs. Pasmer abandoned herself to laughter. "O Dan! Dan! You will be thedeath of me."
"We will die together, then, Mrs. Pasmer. Alice will kill me." Heregarded her with a sad sympathy in his eye as she laughed and laughedwith delicious intelligence of the case. The intelligence was perfect,from their point of view; but whether it fathomed the girl's wholeintention or aspiration is another matter. Perhaps this was not veryclear to herself. At any rate, Mavering did not go any more to see Mrs.Brinkley, whose house he had liked to drop into. Alice went severaltimes, to show, she said, that she had no feeling in the matter; andMrs. Brinkley, when she met Dan, forbore to embarrass him with questionsor reproaches; she only praised Alice to him.
There were not many other influences that Alice cut him off from;she even exposed him to some influences that might have been thoughtdeleterious. She made him go and call alone upon certain young ladieswhom she specified, and she praised several others to him, though shedid not praise them for the same things that he did. One of them was agirl to whom Alice had taken a great fancy, such as often buds into aromantic passion between women; she was very gentle and mild, and shehad none of that strength of will which she admired in Alice. One nightthere was a sleighing party to a hotel in the suburbs, where they haddancing and then supper. After the supper they danced "Little SallyWaters" for a finale, instead of the Virginia Reel, and Alice would notgo on the floor with Dan; she said she disliked that dance; but shetold him to dance with Miss Langham. It became a gale of fun, and in theheight of it Dan slipped and fell with his partner. They laughed it off,with the rest, but after a while the girl began to cry; she had receiveda painful bruise. All the way home, while the others laughed and sangand chattered, Dan was troubled about this poor girl; his anxiety becamea joke with the whole sleighful of people.
When he parted with Alice at her door, he said, "I'm afraid I hurt MissLangham; I feel awfully about it."
"Yes; there's no doubt of that. Good night!"
She left him to go off to his lodging, hot and tingling with indignationat her injustice. But kindlier thoughts came to him before he slept, andhe fell asleep with a smile of tenderness for her on his lips. He couldsee how he was wrong to go out with any one else when Alice saidshe disliked the dance; he ought not to have taken advantage of hergenerosity in appointing him a partner; it was trying for her to see himmake that ludicrous tumble, of course; and perhaps he had overdone theattentive sympathy on the way home. It flattered him that she could nothelp showing her jealousy--that is flattering, at first; and Danwas able to go and confess all but this to Alice. She received hissubmission magnanimously, and said that she was glad it had happened,because his saying this showed that now they understood each otherperfectly. Then she fixed her eyes on his, and said, "I've just beenround to see Lilly, and she's as well as ever; it was only a nervousshock."
Whether Mavering was really indifferent to Miss Langham's condition,or whether the education of his perceptions had gone so far that heconsciously ignored her, he answered, "That was splendid of you, Alice."
"No," she said; "it's you that are splendid; and you always are. Oh, Iwonder if I can ever be worthy of you!"
Their mutual forgiveness was very sweet to them, and they went onpraising each other. Alice suddenly broke away from this weakeningexchange of worship, and said, with that air of coming to business whichhe lad learned to recognise and dread a little, "Dan, don't you think Iought to write to your mother?"
"Write to my mother?"
"Why, you have written to her. You wrote as soon as you got back, andshe answered you."
"Yes; but write regularly?--Show that I think of her all the time?When I really think I'm going to take you from her, I seem so cruel andheartless!"
"Oh, I don't look at it in that light, Alice."
"Don't joke! And when I think that we're going away to leave her, forseveral years, perhaps, as soon as we're married, I can't make it seemright. I know how
she depends upon your being near her, and seeingher every now and then; and to go off to Europe for years, perhaps--Ofcourse you can be of use to your father there; but do you think it'sright toward your mother? I want you to think."
Dan thought, but his thinking was mainly to the effect that he did notknow what she was driving at. Had she got any inkling of that plan ofhis mother's for them to come and stay a year or two at the Falls aftertheir marriage? He always expected to be able to reconcile that planwith the Pasmer plan of going at once; to his optimism the two were notreally incompatible; but he did not wish them prematurely confronted inAlice's mind. Was this her way of letting him know that she knew whathis mother wished, and that she was willing to make the sacrifice? Orwas it just some vague longing to please him by a show of affectiontoward his family, an unmeditated impulse of reparation? He had animpulse himself to be frank with Alice, to take her at her word, and toallow that he did not like the notion of going abroad. This was Dan'snotion of being frank; he could still reserve the fact that he had givenhis mother a tacit promise to bring Alice home to live, but he postponedeven this. He said: "Oh, I guess that'll be all right, Alice. Atany rate, there's no need to think about it yet awhile. That can bearranged."
"Yes," said Alice; "but don't you think I'd better get into the habit ofwriting regularly to your mother now, so that there needn't be any breakwhen we go abroad?" He could see now that she had no idea of giving thatplan up, and he was glad that he had not said anything. "I think," shecontinued, "that I shall write to her once a week, and give her a fullaccount of our life from day to day; it'll be more like a diary; andthen, when we get over there, I can keep it up without any effort, andshe won't feel so much that you've gone."
She seemed to refer the plan to him, and he said it was capital. Infact, he did like the notion of a diary; that sort of historical viewwould involve less danger of precipitating a discussion of the twoschemes of life for the future. "It's awfully kind of you, Alice, topropose such a thing, and you mustn't make it a burden. Any sort oflittle sketchy record will do; mother can read between the lines, youknow."
"It won't be a burden," said the girl tenderly. "I shall seem to bedoing it for your mother, but I know I shall be doing it for you. I doeverything for you. Do you think it's right?"
"Oh; it must be," said Dan, laughing. "It's so pleasant."
"Oh," said the girl gloomily; "that's what makes me doubt it."
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