by Leroy Scott
CHAPTER XVII
THE CUP OF BLISS
The next morning Katherine lay abed in that delicious lassitude whichis the compound of complete exhaustion and of a happiness that tinglesthrough every furthermost nerve. And as she lay there she thoughtdazedly of the miracle that had come to pass. She had not even guessedthat she was in love with Arnold Bruce. In fact, she had beenresisting her growing admiration for him, and the day before she couldhardly have told whether her liking was greater than her hostility.Then, suddenly, out there in the storm, all complex counter-feelingshad been swept side, and she had been revealed to herself.
She was tremulously, tumultuously happy. She had had likings for menbefore, but she had never guessed that love was such a mighty,exultant thing as this. But, as she lay there, the thoughts that hadnever come to her in the storm out there on the River Road, slippedinto her mind. Into her exultant, fearful, dizzy happiness there crepta fear of the future. She clung with all her soul to the ideas of thelife she wished to live; she knew that he, in all sincerity, wasmilitantly opposed to those ideas. Difference in religious belief hadbrought bitterness, tragedy even, into the lives of many a pair oflovers. The difference in their case was no less firmly held to oneither side, and she realized that the day must come when their ideasmust clash, when they two must fight it out. Quivering with lovethough she was, she could but look forward to that inevitable day withfear.
But there were too many other new matters tossing in her brain for herto dwell long upon this dread. At times she could but smilewhimsically at the perversity of love. The little god was doubtlesslaughing in impish glee at what he had brought about. She had alwaysthought in a vague way that she would sometime marry, but she hadalways regarded it as a matter of course that the man she would fallin love with would be one in thorough sympathy with her ideas and whowould help her realize her dream. And here she had fallen in love withthat dreamed-of man's exact antithesis!
And yet, as she thought of Arnold Bruce, she could not imagine herselfloving any other man in all the world.
Love gave her a new cause for jubilation over her last night'sdiscovery. Victory, should she win it, and win it before election, hadnow an added value--it would help the man she loved. But as shethought over her discovery, she realized that while she might create ascandal with it, it was not sufficient evidence nor the particularevidence that she desired. Blake and Peck would both deny the meeting,and against Blake's denial her word would count for nothing, either incourt or before the people of Westville. And she could not be presentat another conference with two or three witnesses, for the pair hadlast night settled all matters and had agreed that it would beunnecessary to meet again. Her discovery, she perceived more clearlythan on the night before, was not so much evidence as the basis for amore enlightened and a more hopeful investigation.
Another matter, one that had concerned her little while Bruce had heldbut a dubious place in her esteem, now flashed into her mind andassumed a large importance. The other party, as she knew, was usingBruce's friendship for her as a campaign argument against him; not onthe platform of course--it never gained that dignity--but in thestreet, and wherever the followers of the hostile camps engaged inpolitical skirmish. Its sharpest use was by good housewives, with whomsuffrage could be exercised solely by influencing their husbands'ballots. "What, vote for Mr. Bruce! Don't you know he's a friend ofthat woman lawyer? A man who can see anything in that Katherine Westis no fit man for mayor!"
All this talk, Katherine now realized, was in some degree injuringBruce's candidacy. With a sudden pain at the heart she now demanded ofherself, would it be fair to the man she loved to continue this openintimacy? Should not she, for his best interests, urge him, requirehim, to see her no more?
She was in the midst of this new problem, when her Aunt Rachel broughther in a telegram. She read it through, and on the instant the problemfled her mind. She lay and thought excitedly--hour after hour--and herold plans altered where they had been fixed, and took on definite formwhere previously they had been unsettled.
The early afternoon found her in the office of old HosieHollingsworth.
"What do you think of that?" she demanded, handing him the telegram.
Old Hosie read it with a puzzled look. Then slowly he repeated italoud:
"'Bouncing boy arrived Tuesday morning. All doing well. John.'" Heraised his eyes to Katherine. "I'm always glad to see people lend thecensus a helping hand," he drawled. "But who in Old Harry is John?"
"Mr. Henry Manning. The New York detective I told you about."
"Eh? Then what----"
"It's a cipher telegram," Katherine explained with an excited smile."It means that he will arrive in Westville this afternoon, and willstay as long as I need him."
"But what should he send that sort of a fool thing for?"
"Didn't I tell you that he and I are to have no apparent relationswhatever? An ordinary telegram, coming through that gossiping Mr.Gordon at the telegraph office, would have given us away. Now I'vecome to you to talk over with you some new plans for Mr. Manning. Butfirst I want to tell you something else."
She briefly outlined what she had learned the night before; and then,without waiting to hear out his ejaculations, rapidly continued: "Itold Mr. Manning to come straight to you, on his arrival, to learn howmatters stood. All my communications to him, and his to me, are to bethrough you. Tell him everything, including about last night."
"And what is he to do?"
"I was just coming to that." Her brown eyes were gleaming withexcitement. "Here's my plan. It seems to me that if Blind Charlie Peckcould force his way into Mr. Blake's scheme and become a partner init, then Mr. Manning can, too."
Old Hosie blinked.
"Eh? Eh? How?"
"You are to tell Mr. Manning that he is Mr. Hartsell, or whoever hepleases, a real estate dealer from the East, and that his ostensiblebusiness in Westville is to invest in farm lands. Buying in run-downor undrained farms at a low price and putting them in good condition,that's a profitable business these days. Besides, since you are anagent for farm lands, that will explain his relations with you.Understand?"
"Yes. What next?"
"Secretly, he is to go around studying the water-works. Only not sosecretly that he won't be noticed."
"But what's that for?"
"Buying farm land is only a blind to hide his real business," she wenton rapidly. "His real business here is to look into the condition ofthe water-works with a view to buying them in. He is a private agentof Seymour & Burnett; you remember I am empowered to buy the systemfor Mr. Seymour. When Mr. Blake and Mr. Peck discover that a man issecretly examining the water-works--and they'll discover it all right;when they discover that this man is the agent of Mr. Seymour, with allthe Seymour millions behind him--and we'll see that they discoverthat, too--don't you see that when they make these discoveries thismay set them to thinking, and something may happen?"
"I don't just see it yet," said Old Hosie slowly, "but it sounds likethere might be something mighty big there."
"When Mr. Blake learns there is another secret buyer in the field, arival buyer ready and able to run the price up to three times what heexpects to pay--why, he'll see danger of his whole plan going to ruin.Won't his natural impulse be, rather than run such a risk, to try totake the new man in?--just as he took in Blind Charlie Peck?"
"I see! I see!" exclaimed Old Hosie. "By George, it's mighty clever!Then what next?"
"I can't see that far. But with Mr. Manning on the inside, our case iswon."
Old Hosie leaned forward.
"It's great! Great! If you're not above shaking hands with a mereman----"
"Now don't make fun of me," she cried, gripping the bony old palm.
"And while you're quietly turning this little trick," he chuckled,"the Honourable Harrison Blake will be carefully watching every moveof Elijah Stone, the best hippopotamus in the sleuth business, and bedoing right smart of private snickering at the simplicity ofwomankind."
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She flushed, but added soberly:
"Of course it's only a plan, and it may not work at all."
They talked the scheme over in detail. At length, shortly before thehour at which the afternoon express from the East was due to arrive,Katherine retired to her own office. Half an hour later, looking downfrom her window, she saw the old surrey of Mr. Huggins' draw up besidethe curb, in it a quietly dressed, middle-aged passenger who had theappearance of a solid man of affairs. He crossed the sidewalk and alittle later Katherine heard him enter Old Hosie's office on the floorbelow. After a time she saw the stranger go out and drive around theSquare to the Tippecanoe House, Peck's hotel, where Katherine haddirected that Mr. Manning be sent to facilitate his being detected bythe enemy.
Her plan laid, Katherine saw there was little she could do but awaitdevelopments--and in the meantime to watch Blake, which Mr. Mannings'role would not permit his doing, and to watch and study DoctorSherman. Despite this new plan, and her hopes in it, she realized thatit was primarily a plan to defeat Blake's scheme against the city. Shestill considered Doctor Sherman the pivotal character in her father'scase; he was her father's accuser, the man who, she believed morestrongly every day, could clear him with a few explanatory words. Soshe determined to watch him none the less closely because of her newplan--to keep her eyes upon him for signs that might show hisrelations to Blake's scheme--to watch for signs of the breaking of hisnerve, and at the first sign to pounce accusingly upon him.
When she reached home that afternoon she found Bruce awaiting her.Since morning, mixed with her palpitating love and her desire to seehim, there had been dread of this meeting. In the back of her mind thequestion had all day tormented her, should she, for his own interests,send him away? But sharper than this, sharper a hundredfold, was thefear lest the difference between their opinions should come up.
But Bruce showed no inclination to approach this difference. Love wastoo new and near a thing for him to wander from the present. For thisdelay she was fervently grateful, and forgetful of all else she leanedback in a big old walnut chair and abandoned herself completely to herhappiness, which might perhaps be all too brief. They talked of athousand things--talk full of mutual confession: of their formerhostility, of what it was that had drawn their love to one another, oflast night out in the storm. The spirits of both ran high. Their joy,as first joy should be, was sparkling, effervescent.
After a time she sat in silence for several moments, smilinghalf-tenderly, half-roguishly, into his rugged, square-hewed face,with its glinting glasses and its _chevaux de frise_ of bristlinghair.
"Well," he demanded, "what are you thinking about?"
"I was thinking what very bad eyes I have."
"Bad eyes?"
"Yes. For up to yesterday I always considered you----But perhaps youare thin-skinned about some matters?"
"Me thin-skinned? I've got the epidermis of a crocodile!"
"Well, then--up to yesterday I always thought you--but you're sure youwon't mind?"
"I tell you I'm so thick-skinned that it meets in the middle!"
"Well, then, till yesterday I always thought you rather ugly."
"Glory be! Eureka! Excelsior!"
"Then you don't mind?"
"Mind?" cried he. "Did you think that I thought I was pretty?"
"I didn't know," she replied with her provoking, happy smile, "for menare such conceited creatures."
"I'm not authorized to speak for the rest, but I'm certainlyconceited," he returned promptly. "For I've always believed myself oneof the ugliest animals in the whole human menagerie. And at last mymerits are recognized."
"But I said 'till yesterday'," she corrected. "Since then, somehow,your face seems to have changed."
"Changed?"
"Yes. I think you are growing rather good-looking." Behind her happyraillery was a tone of seriousness.
"Good-looking? Me good-looking? And that's the way you dash my hopes!"
"Yes, sir. Good-looking."
"Woman, you don't know what sorrow is in those words you spoke! Justto think," he said mournfully, "that all my life I've fondled thebelief that when I was made God must have dropped the clay while itwas still wet."
"I'm sorry----"
"Don't try to comfort me. The blow's too heavy." He slowly shook hishead. "I never loved a dear gazelle----"
"Oh, I don't mean the usual sort of good-looking," she consoled him."But good-looking like an engine, or a crag, or a mountain."
"Well, at any rate," he said with solemn resignation, "it's somethingto know the particular type of beauty that I am."
Suddenly they both burst into merry laughter.
"But I'm really in earnest," she protested. "For you really aregood-looking!"
He leaned forward, caught her two hands in his powerful grasp andalmost crushed his lips against them.
"Perhaps it's just as well you don't mind my face, dear," hehalf-whispered, "for, you know, you're going to see a lot of it."
She flushed, and her whole being seemed to swim in happiness. They didnot speak for a time; and she sat gazing with warm, luminous eyes intohis rugged, determined face, now so soft, so tender.
But suddenly her look became very grave, for the question of themorning had recurred to her. Should she not give him up?
"May I speak about something serious?" she asked with an effort."Something very serious?"
"About anything in the world!" said he.
"It's something I was thinking about this morning, and all day," shesaid. "I'm afraid I haven't been very thoughtful of you. And I'mafraid you haven't been very thoughtful of yourself."
"How?"
"We've been together quite often of late."
"Not often enough!"
"But often enough to set people talking."
"Let 'em talk!"
"But you must remember----"
"Let's stop their tongues," he interrupted.
"How?"
"By announcing our engagement." He gripped her hands. "For we areengaged, aren't we?"
"I--I don't know," she breathed.
"Don't know?" He stared at her. "Why, you're white as a sheet! You'renot in earnest?"
"Yes."
"What does this mean?"
"I--I had started to tell you. You must remember that I am anunpopular person, and that in my father I am representing an unpopularman. And you must remember that you are candidate for mayor."
He had begun to get her drift.
"Well?"
"Well, I am afraid our being together will lessen your chances. And Idon't want to do anything in the world that will injure you."
"Then you think----"
"I think--I think"--she spoke with difficulty--"we should stop seeingeach other."
"For my sake?"
"Yes."
He bent nearer and looked her piercingly in the eyes.
"But for your own sake?" he demanded.
She did not speak.
"But for your own sake?" he persisted.
"For my sake--for my sake----" Half-choked, she broke off.
"Honest now? Honest?"
She did not realize till that moment all it would mean to her to seehim no more.
"For my own sake----" Suddenly her hands tightened about his and shepressed them to her face. "For my sake--never! never!"
"And do you think that I----" He gathered her into his strong arms."Let them talk!" he breathed passionately against her cheek. "We'llwin the town in spite of it!"
