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A Poor Wise Man

Page 29

by Mary Roberts Rinehart


  CHAPTER XXX

  At midnight Howard Cardew reached home again, a tired and broken man.Grace had been lying awake in her bedroom, puzzled by his unexplainedabsence, and brooding, as she now did continually, over Lily's absence.

  At half past eleven she heard Anthony Cardew come in and go upstairs,and for some time after that she heard him steadily pacing back andforth overhead. Sometimes Grace felt sorry for Anthony. He had madehimself at such cost, and now when he was old, he had everything and yetnothing.

  They had never understood women, these Cardews. Howard was gentle withthem where Anthony was hard, but he did not understand, either. Sheherself, of other blood, got along by making few demands, but the Cardewwomen were as insistent in their demands as the men. Elinor, Lily--Sheformed a sudden resolution, and getting up, dressed feverishly. She hadno plan in her mind, nothing but a desperate resolution to put Lily'scase before her grandfather, and to beg that she be brought home withoutconditions.

  She was frightened as she went up the stairs. Never before had shepermitted things to come to an issue between herself and Anthony. Butnow it must be done. She knocked at the door.

  Anthony Cardew opened it. The room was dark, save for one lamp burningdimly on a great mahogany table, and Anthony's erect figure was littlemore than a blur of black and white.

  "I heard you walking about," she said breathlessly. "May I come in andtalk to you?"

  "Come in," he said, with a sort of grave heaviness. "Shall I light theother lamps?"

  "Please don't."

  "Will you sit down? No? Do you mind if I do? I am very tired. I supposeit is about Lily?"

  "Yes. I can't stand it any longer. I can't."

  Sitting under the lamp she saw that he looked very old and very weary. Atired little old man, almost a broken one.

  "She won't come back?"

  "Not under the conditions. But she must come back, father. To let herstay on there, in that house, after last night--"

  She had never called him "father" before. It seemed to touch him.

  "You're a good woman, Grace," he said, still heavily. "We Cardews allmarry good women, but we don't know how to treat them. Even Howard--"His voice trailed off. "No, she can't stay there," he said, after apause.

  "But--I must tell you--she refuses to give up that man."

  "You are a woman, Grace. You ought to know something about girls. Doesshe actually care for him, or is it because he offers the libertyshe thinks we fail to give her? Or"--he smiled faintly--"is it Cardewpig-headedness?"

  Grace made a little gesture of despair.

  "I don't know. She wanted to come home. She begged--it was dreadful."Grace hesitated. "Even that couldn't be as bad as this, father," shesaid. "We have all lived our own lives, you and Howard and myself, andnow we won't let her do it."

  "And a pretty mess we have made of them!" His tone was grim. "No, Ican't say that we offer her any felicitous examples. But the fellow'splan is transparent enough. He is ambitious. He sees himself installedhere, one of us. Mark my words, Grace, he may love the child, but hisreal actuating motive is that. He's a Radical, because since he can'tclimb up, he'll pull down. But once let him get his foot on the Cardewladder, and he'll climb, over her, over all of us."

  He sat after that, his head dropped on his chest, his hands resting onthe arms of his chair, in a brooding reverie. Grace waited.

  "Better bring her home," he said finally. "Tell her I surrender. I wanther here. Let her bring that fellow here, too, if she has to see him.But for God's sake, Grace," he added, with a flash of his old fire,"show her some real men, too."

  Suddenly Grace bent over and kissed him. He put up his hand, and pattedher on the shoulder.

  "A good woman, Grace," he said, "and a good daughter to me. I'm sorry.I'll try to do better."

  As Grace straightened she heard the door close below, and Howard'svoice. Almost immediately she heard him coming up the staircase, andgoing out into the hall she called softly to him.

  "Where are you?" he asked, looking up. "Is father there?"

  "Yes."

  "I want you both to come down to the library, Grace."

  She heard him turn and go slowly down the stairs. His voice had beenstrained and unnatural. As she turned she found Anthony behind her.

  "Something has happened!"

  "I rather think so," said old Anthony, slowly.

  They went together down the stairs.

  In the library Lily was standing, facing the door, a quiet figure,listening and waiting. Howard had dropped into a chair and was staringahead. And beyond the circle of lights was a shadowy figure, vaguelyfamiliar, tall, thin, and watchful. Willy Cameron.

 

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