The Delafield Affair
Page 2
CHAPTER II
THE EVIL THAT MEN DO
Lucy Bancroft and her father were unusually silent as they drove towardhome. After an effort to chatter gayly she grew quiet--to her father'ssurprise, for she was ordinarily a vivacious companion. Speculatinguneasily whether or not she had heard Conrad's story, and reassuringhimself that it could mean nothing to her in any event, he made severalefforts to draw her into speech. But she answered with her mind soevidently intent elsewhere that he gave up the attempt. The fear grew onhim that she had overheard the conversation and that it had left anundue impression on her mind.
A mirage of singularly perfect illusion lay across the plain to theirleft, and he drew her attention to its silvery surface, the treesbordering its unreal banks, the cattle standing knee-deep in its waters,and the steamboat puffing across its breast. Lucy admired and wonderedfor a moment, then turned the other way and looked back at the greentree clusters and white buildings of the ranch they had left. Her gazelingered there until they crossed the hill, and its summit hid the scenefrom view.
Bancroft sought to reassure himself. Did she not say she had beenasleep? And the door was shut. Surely she could not have heard! Even ifshe had why should she care about it? Nevertheless, her silence made himanxious. It annoyed him to think that her mind was intent upon Conrad'sstory. He made another effort to draw her out of her abstraction byasking how soon she expected their friend, Louise Dent, who was comingto spend the Summer with them. Lucy showed interest in this and theydiscussed plans for her entertainment. But presently she fell silentagain, looking straight ahead with a little frown on her brow.
The conviction gripped Bancroft's mind that she had overheard thecattleman's recital of his wrongs. Alarm stirred in his heart ashe tried to imagine what impression it had made upon her. Wouldshe sympathize with Conrad? For the moment he forgot everythingelse--business deals and political contests, friendships and enmities,in his desire to know what had been the effect upon the girl beside himof Conrad's outburst. But much as he wished to know, he feared stillmore the surety of what her feeling might be, and he could not bringhimself to ask the questions that would draw her out.
Presently Lucy's voice broke suddenly upon their silence. "I wonder whatbecame of his sisters!" Her color rose as she spoke and she gazed withexaggerated interest at a tall, yellow-flowered cactus beside the road.
"Whose sisters, Lucy?" her father asked carelessly, flicking the horsesto a faster pace. But his heart sank as he thought, "She did hear itall!"
"Why, Mr. Conrad's. You know he said he was left when he was onlyfifteen with two younger sisters and a little brother to take care of."
"Oh--Conrad--I don't know. They are probably married by this time. Thatwas a long time ago. I've heard him mention his sisters before, I think.Yes; I recall now that he has told me they are both married andprosperous somewhere in Illinois or Iowa."
"And his younger brother?"
"Oh, he's just a young fellow, and Curtis is putting him throughcollege. Conrad banks with me, and I've noticed his checks sometimeswhen they come back."
"How good he is to them! It must have been very hard on him," Lucy'stone was sympathetic, but her father replied briskly:
"Oh, I don't know! Responsibility is sometimes just the thing to bringout all the good there is in a young fellow and show what sort of stuffhe's made of."
"I suppose that's why he's never married," Lucy went on, following herown line of thought, her voice still sounding the sympathetic note,"because he had to take care of the others."
"I don't suppose that's a fault in your eyes, my dear."
"Of course not, daddy!" Lucy flashed back, smiling and dimpling. "Ofcourse a girl likes a young man better because he's more interesting andcan pay her more attention. You would yourself, daddy, if you were agirl."
"Very likely, my dear. But I like Curtis Conrad well enough, even if I'mnot as young as you are and of your sex. I was disappointed in himto-day, though, and surprised as well. You must have heard what he said;how did it strike you to hear a young man boast of his intention tocommit murder?"
He spoke so earnestly and the persuasive quality in his voice was soinsistent that Lucy turned upon him a quick look of surprise andquestion. Then her eyes fell as a sudden rush of emotion, coming sheknew not whence or why, almost choked her utterance.
"I don't know," she began tremulously, "perhaps he wouldn't really doit--I don't believe he would--he seems too good and kind to be reallywicked or cruel." She stopped a moment, only to break out abruptly:
"And it was such a wicked thing that man Delafield did! Oh, he must havebeen a villain! As wicked and cruel--oh, as bad as he could be! I can'tblame Mr. Conrad for feeling as he does. I know it seems an awful thingfor me to say, but I really can't blame him, daddy, when I think whatthat man made him suffer--and he was only one; there must have been manyothers. I might even feel the same way if I were in his place and it hadbeen you that was killed!" There was a thrill in her voice that seemedin her father's ears to be the echo of that which had vibrated throughCurtis Conrad's words when he so passionately declared his purpose. Herwords were as knife-thrusts in his heart as she went on, "Oh, how Ishould hate him! I know I should hate him with all my strength!"
He made no immediate reply, leaning forward to tap the horses with thewhip-lash. Lucy choked down a sob or two, turned, threw her arms aroundhis neck, and burst into tears. He put his arm about her with a suddenclose pressure, and she, with her eyes hidden against his shoulder,could not see that his face had gone suddenly white and that underneathhis brown moustache and pointed beard his lips were pale and tense.
"Well, well, Lucy," he said presently, his voice calm and caressing,"there's no need to be tragic over it. Is it any of our affair, even ifConrad is our good friend? Possibly Delafield wasn't as bad as hesays--it's likely Curt exaggerates about him--he usually does when hedislikes anybody. And perhaps Delafield suffered as much as--the others.Come, dear, brace up and don't be hysterical."
Lucy straightened up and gave her father a wavering, wistful smile. "Itwas silly of me, wasn't it, daddy, to act like that! I'm ashamed ofmyself. I don't know why I cried--I guess it was because I am tired."