by Leroy Scott
CHAPTER XIX
WHEN GREEK MEETS GREEK
Two hours later Bruce was striding angrily up and down the Westparlour, telling Katherine all about it.
She refrained from saying, "I told you so," by either word or look.She was too wise for such a petty triumph. Besides, there wassomething in that afternoon's _Express_, which Bruce had handed herthat interested her far more than his wrathful recital of BlindCharlie's treachery; and although she was apparently giving Bruce herentire attention, and was in fact mechanically taking in his words,her mind was excitedly playing around this second piece of news.
For Doctor Sherman, so said the _Express_, had that day suddenly leftWestville. He had been failing in health for many weeks and was onthe verge of a complete breakdown, the _Express_ sympatheticallyexplained, and at last had yielded to the importunities of hisworried congregation that he take a long vacation. He had gone tothe pine woods of the North, and to insure the unbroken rest he soimperatively required, to prevent the possibility of appealing lettersof inconsiderate parishioners or other cares from following him intohis isolation, he had, at his doctor's command, left no addressbehind.
Katherine instantly knew that this vacation was a flight. Thesituation in Westville had grown daily more intense, and DoctorSherman had seemed to her to be under an ever-increasing strain.Blake, she was certain, had ordered the young clergyman to leave,fearing, if he remained, that his nerve might break and he mightconfess his true relation to her father's case. She realized that now,when Doctor Sherman was apparently weakening, was the psychologicaltime to besiege him with accusation and appeal; and while Bruce wasrehearsing his scene with Blind Charlie she was rapidly consideringmeans for seeking out Doctor Sherman and coming face to face with him.
Her mind was brought back from its swift search by Bruce swinging achair up before her and sitting down.
"But, Katherine--I'll show Peck!" he cried, fiercely, exultantly. "Hedoesn't know what a fight he's got ahead of him. This frees meentirely from him and his machine, and I'm going to beat him so badthat I'll drive him clear out of politics."
She nodded. That was exactly what she was secretly striving to helphim do.
He became more composed, and for a hesitant, silent moment he peeredthoughtfully into her eyes.
"But, Katherine--this affair with Peck this afternoon shows me I am upagainst a mighty stiff proposition," he said, speaking with theslowness of one who is shaping his statements with extreme care. "Ihave got to fight a lot harder than I thought I would have to threehours ago, when I thought I had Peck with me. To beat him, and beatBlake, I have got to have every possible weapon. Consequently,circumstances force me to speak of a matter that I wish I did not haveto talk about." He reached forward and took her hand. "But, remember,dear," he besought her tenderly, "that I don't want to hurt you.Remember that."
She felt a sudden tightening about the heart.
"Yes--what is it?" she asked quietly.
"Remember, dear, that I don't want to hurt you," he repeated. "It'sabout your father's case. You see how certain victory would be if weonly had the evidence to prove what we know?"
"I see."
"I don't mean to say one single unkind word about your not havingmade--having made--more encouraging progress." He pressed her hand;his tone was gentle and persuasive. "I'll confess I have secretly feltsome impatience, but I have not pressed the matter because--well, yousee that in this critical situation, with election so near, I'm forcedto speak about it now."
"What would you like?" she said with an effort.
"You see we cannot afford any more delays, any more risks. We have gotto have the quickest possible action. We have got to use every measurethat may get results. Now, dear, you would not object, would you, ifat this critical juncture, when every hour is so valuable, we were toput the whole matter in the hands of my Indianapolis lawyer friend Ispoke to you about?"
The gaze she held upon his continued steady, but she was pulsingwildly within and she had to swallow several times before she couldspeak.
"You--you think he can do better than I can?"
"I do not want to say a single word that will reflect on you, dear.But we must admit the facts. You have had the case for over fourmonths, and we have no real evidence as yet."
"And you think he can get it?"
"He's very shrewd, very experienced. He'll follow up every clue withdetectives. If any man can succeed in the short time that remains, hecan."
"Then you--you think I can't succeed?"
"Come, dear, let's be reasonable!"
"But I think I can."
"But, Katherine!" he expostulated.
She felt what was coming.
"I'm sure I can--if you will only trust me a little longer!" she saiddesperately.
He dropped her hand.
"You mean that, though I ask you to give it up, you want to continuethe case?"
She grew dizzy, his figure swam before her.
"I--I think I do."
"Why--why----" He broke off. "I can't tell you how surprised I am!" heexclaimed. "I have said nothing of late because I was certain that, ifI gave nature a little time in which to work, there would be no needto argue the matter with you. I was certain that, now that love hadentered your life, your deeper woman's instincts would assertthemselves and you would naturally desire to withdraw from the case.In fact, I was certain that your wish to practise law, your ambitionfor a career outside the home, would sink into insignificance--andthat you would have no desire other than to become a true woman of thehome, where I want my wife to be, where she belongs. Oh, come now,Katherine," he added with a rush of his dominating confidence, takingher hand again, "you know that's just what you're going to do!"
She sat throbbing, choking. She realized that the long-feared battlewas now inevitably at hand. For the moment she did not know whethershe was going to yield or fight. Her love of him, her desire to pleasehim, her fear of what might be the consequence if she crossed him, allimpelled her toward surrender; her deep-seated, long-clung-toprinciples impelled her to make a stand for the life of her dreams.She was a tumult of counter instincts and emotions. But excited as shewas, she found herself looking on at herself in a curious detachment,palpitantly wondering which was going to win--the primitive woman inher, the product of thousands of generations of training to fit man'sdesire, or this other woman she contained, shaped by but a few briefyears, who had come ardently to believe that she had the right to bewhat she wanted to be, no matter what the man required.
"Oh, come now, dear," Bruce assured her confidently, yet halfchidingly, "you know you are going to give it all up and be just mywife!"
She gazed at his rugged, resolute face, smiling at her now with thatpeculiar forgiving tenderness that an older person bestows upon achild that is about to yield its childish whim.
"There now, it's all settled," he said, smoothing her hand. "And we'llsay no more about it."
And then words forced their way up out of her turbulent indecision.
"I'm afraid it isn't settled."
His eyebrows rose in surprise.
"No?"
"No. I want to be your wife, Arnold. But--but I can't give up theother."
"What! You're in earnest?" he cried.
"I am--with all my heart!"
He sank back and stared at her. If further answer were needed, herpale, set face gave it to him. His quick anger began to rise, but heforced it down.
"That puts an entirely new face on the matter," he said, trying tospeak calmly. "The question, instead of merely concerning the next fewweeks, concerns our whole lives."
She tried to summon all her strength, all her faculties, for the shockof battle.
"Just so," she answered
"Then we must go over the matter very fully," he said. His commandover himself grew more easy. He believed that what he had to do was tobe patient, and talk her out of her absurdity. "You must understand,of course," he went on, smiling at her tenderly, "that I want tosupport my wife,
and that I am able to support my wife. I want toprotect her--shield her--have her lean upon me. I want her to be thegoddess of my home. The goddess of my home, Katherine! That's what Iwant. You understand, dear, don't you?"
She saw that he confidently expected her to yield to his ideal andaccept it, and she now knew that she could never yield. She paused aspace before she spoke, in a sort of terror of what might be theconsequence of the next few moments.
"I understand you," she said, duplicating his tone of reason. "Butwhat shall I do in the home? I dislike housework."
"There's no need of your doing it," he promptly returned. "I canafford servants."
"Then what shall I do in the home?" she repeated.
"Take things easy. Enjoy yourself."
"But I don't want to enjoy myself. I want to do things. I want towork."
"Come, come, be reasonable," he said, with his tolerant smile. "Youknow that's quite out of the question."
"Since you are going to pay servants," she persisted, "why should Iidle about the house? Why should not I, an able-bodied person, be outhelping in the world's work somehow--and also helping you to earn aliving?"
"Help me earn a living!" He flushed, but his resentment subsided."When I asked you to marry me I implied in that question that I wasable and willing to support you. Really, Katherine, it's quite absurdfor you to talk about it. There is no financial necessity whatever foryou to work."
"You mean, then, that I should not work because, in you, I have enoughto live upon?"
"Of course!"
"Do you know any man, any real man I mean," she returned quickly, "whostops work in the vigour of his prime merely because he has enoughmoney to live upon? Would you give up your work to-morrow if some onewere willing to support you?"
"Now, don't be ridiculous, Katherine! That's quite a differentquestion. I'm a man, you know."
"And work is a necessity for you?"
"Why, of course."
"And you would not be happy without it?" she eagerly pursued.
"Certainly not."
"And you are right there! But what you don't seem to understand is,that I have the same need, the same love, for work that you have. Ifyou could only recognize, Arnold, that I have the same feelings inthis matter that you have, then you would understand me. I demand formyself the right that all men possess as a matter of course--theright to work!"
"If you must work," he cried, a little exasperated, "why, of course,you can help in the housework."
"But I also demand the right to choose my work. Why should I do workwhich I do not like, for which I have no aptitude, and which I shoulddo poorly, and give up work which interests me, for which I have beentrained, and for which I believe I have an aptitude?"
"But don't you realize, in doing it, if you are successful, you aretaking the bread out of a man's mouth?" he retorted.
"Then every man who has a living income, and yet works, is also takingthe bread out of a man's mouth. But does a real man stop work becauseof that? Besides, if you use that argument, then in doing my ownhousework I'd be taking the bread out of a woman's mouth."
"Why--why----" he stammered. His face began to redden. "We shouldn'tbelittle our love with this kind of talk. It's all so material, sosordid."
"It's not sordid to me!" she cried, stretching out a hand to him."Don't be angry, Arnold. Try to understand me--please do, please do.Work is a necessity of life to you. It is also a necessity of life tome. I'm fighting with you for the right to work. I'm fighting withyou for my life!"
"Then you place work, your career, above our happiness together?" hedemanded angrily.
"Not at all," she went on rapidly, pleadingly. "But I see no reasonwhy there should not be both. Our happiness should be all the greaterbecause of my work. I've studied myself, Arnold, and I know what Ineed. To be thoroughly happy, I need work; useful work, work thatinterests me. I tell you we'll be happier, and our happiness will lastlonger, if only you let me work. I know! I know!"
"Dream stuff! You're following a mere will-o'-the-wisp!"
"That's what women have been following in the past," she returnedbreathlessly. "Look among your married friends. How many ideally happycouples can you count? Very, very few. And why are there so few? Onereason is, because the man finds, after the novelty is worn off, thathis wife is uninteresting, has nothing to talk about; and so his lovecools to a good-natured, passive tolerance of her. Most married men,when alone with their wives, sit in stupid silence. But see how thehusband livens up if a man joins them! This man has been out in theinteresting world. The wife has been cooped up at home. The man hassomething to talk about. The wife has not. Well, I am going to be outin the interesting world, doing something. I am going to havesomething to talk to my husband about. I am going to be interesting tohim, as interesting to him as any man. And I am going to try to holdhis love, Arnold, the love of his heart, the love of his head, to thevery end!"
He was exasperated by her persistence, but he still held himself incheck.
"That sounds very plausible to you. But there is one thing in yourargument you forget."
"And that?"
"We are grown-up people, you and I. I guess we can talk straight out."
"Yes. Go on!"
He gazed at her very steadily for a moment.
"There are such things as children, you know."
She returned his steady look.
"Of course," she said quickly. "Every normal woman wants children. AndI should want them too."
"There--that settles it," he said with triumph. "You can't combinechildren and a profession."
"But I can!" she cried. "And I should give the children the very bestpossible care, too! Of course there are successive periods in whichthe mother would have to give her whole attention to the children. Butif she lives till she is sixty-five the sum total of her forty orforty-five married years that she has to give up wholly to herchildren amounts to but a few years. There remains all the balance ofher life that she could give to other work. Do you realize howtremendously the world is changing, and how women's work is changingwith it?"
"Oh, let's don't mix in statistics, and history, and economics withour love!"
"But we've got to if our love is to last!" she cried. "We're living ina time when things are changing. We've got to consider the changes.And the greatest changes are, and are going to be, in woman's work. Upin our attic are my great-grandmother's wool carders, her spinningwheel, her loom, all sorts of things; she spun, wove, made all theclothing, did everything. These things are now done by professionalexperts; that sort of work has been taken away from woman. Now allthat's left for the woman to do in the home is to cook, clean, andcare for children. Life is still changing. We are still developing.Some time these things too will be done, and better done, byprofessional experts--though just how, or just when, I can't evenguess. Once there was a strong sentiment against the child being takenfrom the mother and being sent to school. Now most intelligent parentsare glad to put their children in charge of trained kindergartners atfour or five. And in the future some new institution, some new varietyof trained specialist, may develop that will take charge of the childfor a part of the day at an even earlier age. That's the way the worldis moving!"
"Thanks for your lecture on the Rise, Progress and Future ofCivilization," he said ironically, trying to suppress himself. "Butinteresting as it was, it has nothing whatever to do with the case.We're not talking about civilization, and the universe, and evolution,and the fourth dimension, and who's got the button. We're talkingabout you and me. About you and me, and our love."
"Yes, Arnold, about you and me and our love," she cried eagerly. "Ispoke of these things only because they concern you and me and ourlove so very, very much."
"Of all things for two lovers to talk about!" he exclaimed withmounting exasperation.
"They are the things of all things! For our love, our life, hangs uponthem!"
"Well, anyhow, you haven't got these new institutions, these newexperts," he retorted,
brushing the whole matter aside. "You're livingto-day, not in the millennium!"
"I know, I know. In the meantime, life for us women is in a stage oftransition. Until these better forms develop we are going to have ahard time. It will be difficult for me to manage, I know. But I'mcertain I can manage it."
He stood up. His face was very red, and he swallowed once or twicebefore the words seemed able to come out.
"I'm surprised, Katherine--surprised!--that you should be sopersistent in this nonsense. What you say is all against nature. Itwon't work."
"Perhaps not. But at least you'll let me try! That's all I ask ofyou--that you let me try!"
"It would be weak in me, wrong in me, to yield."
"Then you're not willing to give me a chance?"
He shook his head.
She rose and moved before him.
"But, Arnold, do you realize what you are doing?" she cried withdesperate passion. "Do you realize what it is I'm asking you for?Work, interesting work--that's what I need to make me happy, to makeyou happy! Without it, I shall be miserable, and you will be miserablein having a miserable wife about you--and all our years together willbe years of misery. So you see what a lot I'm fighting for: work,development, happiness!--the happiness of all our married years!"
"That's only a delusion. For your sake, and my sake, I've got to standfirm."
"Then you will not let me?"
"I will not."
She stared palely at his square, adamantine face.
"Arnold!" she breathed. "Arnold!--do you know what you're trying todo?"
"I am trying to save you from yourself!"
"You're trying to break my will across yours," she cried a littlewildly. "You're trying to crush me into the iron mould of your idea ofa woman. You're trying to kill me--yes, to kill me."
"I am trying to save you!" he repeated, his temper breaking its frailleash. "Your ideas are all wrong--absurd--insane!"
"Please don't be angry, Arnold!" she pleaded.
"How can I help it, when you won't listen to reason! When you are soperversely obstinate!"
"I'm not obstinate," she cried breathlessly, holding one of his handstightly in both her own. "I'm just trying to cling as hard as I can tolife--to our happiness. Please give me a chance, Arnold! Please,please!"
"Confound such obstinate wrong-headedness!" he exploded. "No, I tellyou! No! And that settles it!"
She shrank back.
"Oh!" she cried. Her breast began to rise and fall tumultuously, andher cheeks slowly to redden. "Oh!" she cried again. Then her wordsleaped hotly out: "Oh, you bigot!"
"If to stand by what I know is right, and to save you from making afool of yourself, is to be a bigot--then I'm a bigot all right, and Ithank the God that made me one!"
"And you think you are going to save me from myself?" she demanded.
He stepped nearer, and towering over her, he took hold of hershoulders in a powerful grasp and looked down upon her dominantly.
"I know I am! I am going to make you exactly what I want you to be!"
Her eyes flamed back up into his.
"Because you are the stronger?"
"Because I am the stronger--and because I am right," he returnedgrimly.
"I admit that you are the superior brute," she said with fiercepassion. "But you will never break me to your wishes!"
"And I tell you I will!"
"And I tell you you will not!"
There was a strange and new fire in her eyes.
"What do you mean?" he asked.
"I mean this," she returned, and the hands that gripped her shouldersfelt her tremble through all her body. "I should not expect you tomarry a woman who was so unreasonable as to demand that you, for hersake, should give up your loved career. And, for my part, I shallnever marry a man so unreasonable as to make the same demand of me."
He fell back a pace.
"You mean----"
"Was I not plain enough? I mean that you will never have the chance tocrush me into your iron mould, for I will never marry you."
"What!" And then: "So I'm fired, am I?" he grated out.
"Yes, for you're as narrow and as conventional as the rest of men,"she rushed on hotly. "You never say a word so long as a woman's workis unpleasant! It's all right for her to scrub, and wash dishes, andwear her life away in factories. But as soon as she wants to do anywork that is pleasant and interesting and that will gain herrecognition, you cry out that she's unwomanly, unsexed, that she'sflying in the face of God! Oh, you are perfectly willing that woman,on the one hand, should be a drudge, or on the other the pampered petof your one-woman harem. But I shall be neither, I tell you. Never!Never! Never!"
They stared at one another, trembling with passion.
"And you," he said with all the fierce irony of his soul, "and you, Isuppose, will now go ahead and clear your father, expose Blake, andperform all those other wonders you've talked so big about!"
"That's just what I am going to do!" she cried defiantly.
"And that's just what you are not!" he blazed back. "I may haveadmired the woman in you--but, for those things, you have not thesmallest atom of ability. Your father's trial, your failure to getevidence--hasn't that shown you? You are going to be a failure--afizzle--a fiasco! Did you hear that? A pitiable, miserable, humiliatedfiasco! And time will prove it!"
"We'll see what time will prove!" And she swept furiously past him outof the room.
