The Main Chance

by Meredith Nicholson

  CHAPTER XV

  AT THE COUNTRY CLUB

  To show that she was not limited to her own particular set in her choiceof guests, Mabel had asked Raridan, whom she wished to know better, andWheaton, who had danced with her at the carnival ball, to be of herparty. Chaperons were tolerated but not required in Clarkson. For thisreason Mabel had thought it wise to ask Mrs. Whipple, whom she wished toimpress; and as she liked to surprise her fellow citizens, it was worthwhile in this instance to yield something to the _convenances_. Thegeneral was too old for such nonsense; but he was willing to sacrificehis wife, and she went, giving as her excuse for taking "that Margravegirl's bait," that she was doing it in Evelyn's interest.

  The coach rolled with loud yodeling to the Porter door, where there wasmuch laughing and bantering as the guests settled into their places.When the locked wheels ground the hillside and the horn was bravelyblown by an admirer of Mabel's from Keokuk, it was clear to every onethat Timothy Margrave's daughter was achieving another triumph. Theyoung man from Keokuk was zealous with the horn; a four-in-hand was notoften seen in the streets of Clarkson, albeit this same vehicle wasalways to be had from the leading liveryman, and town and country turnedadmiring eyes on the party as the coach rolled along in the golden hazeof early October. The sun warmed the dry air; and far across theMissouri flats its light fell mildly upon yellow bluffs where the claywas exposed in broad surfaces which held the light. The foliage of thehills beyond the river was lit with color in many places; a shower inthe morning had freshened the green things of earth, giving them a new,brief lease of life, and there was no dust in the highways. In such aday the dying year bends benignantly to earth and is fain to loiter inthe ways of youth.

  The paint was still fresh in the club house, which was a long bungalow,set in a clump of cottonwoods. There was an amplitude of veranda, andthe rooms within were roughly furnished in Texas pine. The older peopleof the town looked upon the club with some suspicion as something newand untried. The younger element was just beginning to know theimplements and vocabulary of golf. The first tee was only a few feetfrom the veranda, so that a degree of heroism and Christian resignationwas essential in those who began their game under the eyes of a fullgallery. There were the usual members of both sexes who talked a gooddeal about their swing without really having any worth mentioning; andthere were others more given to reading the golf news in the golf papersat the club house, than to playing, to the end that they might discussthe game volubly without the discomfort of acquiring practicalknowledge.

  The walls of the dining-room had not been smoothed or whitened. Theywere hung with prints which ranged in subject from golf to Gibson girls.Mabel had supplemented the meager furnishings of the club pantry withembellishments from her own house, and had given her own touch to thetable. As her touch carried a certain style, her crystal and silvershone to good advantage under the lamps which she had substituted forthe bare incandescents of the room. The young man from Keokuk who was,just then, as the gossips said, "devoted" to Mabel, had supplied aprodigal array of flowers, ordered by telegraph from Chicago for theoccasion. The table was served by colored men, who had been previouslysubsidized by Mabel, in violation of the club rules; and theyaccordingly made up in zeal what they lacked in skill.

  Mabel talked a great deal about informality, and drove her guests intothe dining-room without any attempt at order, and they found theirname-cards with the surprises and exclamations which usuallycharacterize that proceeding.

  Captain Wheelock sat at the end of the oblong table opposite Mabel, whoplaced the man from Keokuk at her right and Raridan at her left. Evelynwas between Raridan and one of Mabel's "men," who was evidentlyimpressed by this propinquity. He was the Assistant General Something ofone of the railroads and owned a horse that was known as far away fromhome as the Independence, Iowa, track. There was a great deal of talkingback and forth, and Evelyn told herself that it did not much matter thather guests had fallen into rather poor hands. She was quite sure thatCaptain Wheelock, who liked showy girls, would not be much interestedin Annie Warren, who was distinctly not showy. Belle Marshall, with herdrollery, was not likely to be dismayed by Wheaton's years and povertyof small talk. Belle was not easily abashed, and when the others pausednow and then under the spell of her dialect, which seemed funny when shedid not mean it to be so, she was not distressed. She had grown used tohaving people listen to her drawl, and to complimentary speeches from"you No'the'ne's" on her charming accent. Evelyn found that it wasunnecessary to talk to Raridan; he and Mabel seemed to get on very welltogether, and in her pique at him, Evelyn was glad to have it so.

  Mabel's supper was bountiful, and Raridan, who thought he knew thepossibilities of the club's cuisine, marveled at the chicken, fried inMaryland style, and at the shoestring potatoes and flaky rolls, whichmarked an advance on anything that the club kitchen had produced before.There was champagne from the stock which the Margraves carried in theircar, and it foamed and bubbled in the Venetian glasses that Mabel hadbrought from home, at a temperature that Mabel herself had regulated.Captain Wheelock made much of frequently lifting his glass to Mabel inimaginary toasts. The man from Keokuk drank his champagne with awe; hehad heard that Mabel Margrave was a "tank," and he thought this adelightful thing to be said of a girl. Mrs. Whipple noted with wonderMabel's capacity, while most of the others tried not to be conscious ofit. Mabel grew a little boisterous at times through the dinner, but noone dared think that it was the champagne. Mrs. Whipple remembered withsatisfaction that she had no son to marry Mabel. There were, sheconsidered, certain things which one escapes by being childless, and abibulous daughter-in-law was one of them.

  Attention was arrested for a time by a colloquy between Mrs. Whipple andCaptain Wheelock as to the merits of army girls compared with theircivilian sisters; and the whole table gave heed. Wheelock maintainedthat the army girl was the only cosmopolitan type of American girl, andMrs. Whipple combated the idea. She took the ground that American girlsare never provincial; that they all wear the same clothes, though, sheadmitted, they wore them with a difference; and that the army girl as adistinct type was a myth.

  "My furniture," she said, "has followed the flag as much as anybody's;but the army girl is only a superstition among fledgling lieutenants. Onmy street are people from Maine, Indiana and Georgia. You don't have togo to the army to find cosmopolitan young women; they are the firstgeneration after the founders of all this western country. Right here inthe Missouri valley are the real Americans, made by the mingling ofelements from everywhere. Am I stepping on anybody's toes?" she asked,looking around suddenly.

  "Oh, don't mind us," drawled Belle, turning with a mournful air toAnnie.

  "We've counting on you to marry and settle amongst us," said Mrs.Whipple palliatingly.

  "Gentlemen!" exclaimed Raridan, looking significantly from one man toanother; "destiny is pointing to us!"

  "You're in no danger, Mr. Raridan," Belle flung back at him. "MissWarren and I can go back where we came from."

  Raridan's rage at Evelyn had spent itself; he was ready for peace. Shehad been politely indifferent to him at the table, to the mischievousjoy of Belle Marshall, who had an eye for such little bits of comedy. Asthey all stood about after supper in the outer hall, Evelyn chatted withWheaton, and continued to be oblivious of Raridan, who watched her overthe shoulder of one of Mabel's particular allies and waited for atete-a-tete. Warry had the skill of long practice in such matters; therewere men whom it was difficult to dislodge, but Wheaton was not one ofthem. He took advantage of a movement toward benches and chairs toattach himself to Evelyn and to shunt Wheaton into Belle's company,--amanoeuver which that young woman understood perfectly and did not enjoy.There was something so open and casual in Warry's tactics that thebeholder was likely to be misled by them. Evelyn was half disposed tothwart him; he had been distinctly disagreeable at the ball, and had notappeared at the house since. She knew what he wanted, and she had nointention of making his approaches easy. Some of the others
moved towardthe verandas, and Warry led the way thither, while he talked on, tellingsome bits of news about a common acquaintance from whom he had justheard. It was cool outside and she sent him for her cape, and then theywalked the length of the long promenade. He paused several times topoint out to her some of the improvements which were to be made in thegrounds the following spring. This also was a part of the game; itserved to interrupt the walk; and he spoke of the guests at the Hill,and said that it was too bad they had not come when things werelivelier. Then he stood silent for a moment, busy with his cigarette.Evelyn gathered her golf cape about her, leaned against a pillar andtapped the floor with her shoe.

  "You haven't been particularly attentive to them, have you?" she said."I thought you really liked them."

  "Of course I like them, but I've been very busy." Warry stared ahead ofhim across the dim starlit golf grounds.

  "That's very nice," she said, still tapping the floor and looking pasthim into the night. "Industry is always an excuse for any one. But, cometo think of it, you were very good in showing them about at the ball. Iappreciate it, I'm sure."

  It was of his conduct at the ball that he wished to speak; she knew it,and tried to make it hard for him.

  "See here, Evelyn, you know well enough why I kept away from you thatnight. I told you before the ball that I didn't,--well, I didn't likeit! If I hadn't cared a whole lot it wouldn't have made anydifference--but that show was so tawdry and hideous--"

  Evelyn readjusted her cape and sat down on the veranda railing.

  "Oh, I was tawdry, was I?" she asked, sweetly. "I knew some one wouldtell me the real truth about it if I waited."

  "I didn't come here to have you make fun of me," he said, bitterly. Heimagined that since the ball he had been suffering a kind of martyrdom.

  Evelyn could not help laughing.

  "Poor Warry!" she exclaimed in mock sympathy. "What a hard time youmake yourself have! Just listen to Mr. Foster laughing on the other sideof the porch; it must be much cheerfuller over there." Mr. Foster wasthe young man from Keokuk; he wore a secret society pin in his cravat,and Warry hated him particularly.

  "What an ass that fellow is!" he blurted, savagely. He had just lighteda fresh cigarette, and threw away the stump of the discarded one with anunnecessary exercise of strength.

  "But he's cheerful, and has very nice manners!" said Evelyn. Warry wasstill looking away from her petulantly. Her attitude toward him just nowwas that of an older sister toward a young offending brother. He feltthat the interview lacked dignity on his side, and he swung aroundsuddenly.

  "You know we can't go on this way. You know I wouldn't offend you foranything in the world,--that if I've been churlish it's simply because Icare a great deal; because it has hurt me to find you getting mixed upwith the wrong people. If you knew what your coming home meant to me,how much I've been counting on it! and then to find that you wouldn'tmeet me on our old friendly basis, and didn't want any suggestions fromme."

  He had, almost unconsciously, been expecting her to interrupt him; butshe did not do so, and left him to flounder along as best he could. Whenhe paused helplessly, she said, still like a forbearing sister:

  "I didn't know you could be so tragic, Warry. The first thing I knowyou'll be really quarreling with me, and I don't intend to have that.Why don't you change your tactics and be a good little boy? You've beenspoiled by too much indulgence of late. Now I don't intend to spoil youa bit. You were terribly rude,--I didn't think you capable of it, andall because I wouldn't offend my father and his friends and other verygood people, by refusing to take part in the harmless exercises of thatperfectly ridiculous but useful society, the Knights of Midas. That'sall over now; and the sun comes up every morning just as it used to. Youand I live in the same small town and it's too small to quarrel in."

  She paused and laughed, seeing how he was swaying between the impulse toaccept her truce and the inclination to parley further. He had beenpersuading himself that he loved her, and he had found keen joy in themisery into which he had worked himself, thinking that there wassomething ideal and noble in his attitude. He did not know Evelyn aswell as he thought he did; when she came home he had imagined that allwould go smoothly between them; he had meant to monopolize her, and todictate to her when need be. He had assumed that they would meet on aplane that would be accessible to no other man in Clarkson; and hisconceit was shaken to find that she was disposed to be generouslyhospitable toward all. It was this that enraged him particularly againstWheaton, who stood quite as well with her, he assured himself, as hedid. Her beauty and sweetness seemed to mock him; if he did not love hernow as he thought he did, he at least was deeply appreciative of thequalities which set her apart from other women.

  There are men like Raridan, who are devoid of evil impulse, and who areswayed and touched by the charm of women through an excess in themselvesof that nicer feeling which we call feminine, usually in depreciation,as if it were contemptible. But there is something appealing and fineabout it; it is not altogether a weakness; doers of the world'sworthiest tasks have been notable possessors of this quality. Raridanhad a true sense of personal honor, and yet his imagination was strongenough to play tricks with his conscience. He had argued himself into amood of desperate love; he felt that he was swayed by passion; but itwas of jealousy and not of love.

  Evelyn walked a little way toward the door and he followed gloomilyalong. He called her name and she paused. They were not alone on theveranda, and she did not want a scene. Raridan began again:

  "Why, ever since we were children together I've looked forward to thistime. It always seemed the most natural thing in the world that I shouldlove you. When you went away to college, I never had any fear that itwould make any difference; when I saw you down there you were alwayskind,--"

  "Of course I was kind," she interrupted; "and I don't mean to beanything else now."

  "You know what I mean," he urged, though he did not know himself what hemeant. "I had no idea that your going away would make any difference; ifI had dreamed of it, I should have spoken long ago. And when I went tosee you those few times at college--"

  "Yes, you came and I was awfully glad to see you, too; but how manywomen's colleges have you visited in these four years? There was thatBrooklyn girl you were devoted to at Bryn Mawr; and that pretty littleFrench Canadian you rushed at Wellesley,--but of course I don't pretendto know the whole catalogue of them. That was all perfectly proper, youunderstand; I'm not complaining--"

  "No; I wish you were," he said, bitterly. If he had known it, he wasreally enjoying this; there was, perhaps, at the bottom of his heart, alittle vanity which these reminiscences appealed to. He rallied now:

  "But you could afford to have me see other girls," he said. "You oughtto know--you should have known all the time that you were the only onein all the world for me."

  "That's a trifle obvious, Warry;" and she laughed. "You're not living upto your reputation for subtlety of approach."

  "Evelyn"--his voice trembled; he was sure now that he was very much inlove; "I tried to tell you before the carnival that the reason I didn'twant you to appear in the ball was that I cared a great deal,--so verymuch,--that I love you!"

  She stepped back, drawing the cape together at her throat.

  "Please, Warry," she said pleadingly, "don't spoil everything by talkingof such things. I wished that we might be the best of friends, but youinsist on spoiling everything."

  "Oh, I know," he broke in, "that I spoil things, that I'm a failure--ane'er-do-well." It was not love that he was hungry for half so much assympathy; they are often identical in such natures as his.

  She bent toward him, as she always did when she talked earnestly, and asfrankly as though she were speaking to a girl.

  "Warry Raridan, it's exactly as I told you a moment ago. You've beenspoiled, and it shows in a lot of ways. Why, you're positivelychildish!" She laughed softly. He had thrust his hands into his pocketsand was feeling foolish. He wanted to make another effort to ma
intainhis position as a serious lover, but was not equal to it. She went on,with growing kindness in her tone: "Now, I'll say to you frankly that Ididn't at all like being mixed up in the Knights of Midas ball; if youhad been as wise as I have always thought, you might have known it. Youought to have shown your interest in me by helping me; but you chose totake a very ungenerous and unkind attitude about it; you helped to makeit harder for me than it might have been. I relied on you as an oldfriend, but you deserted me at your first chance to show that you reallyhad my interests at heart. If you had cared about me, you certainlywouldn't have acted so."

  "Why, Evelyn, I wouldn't hurt you for anything in the world; if I hadunderstood--"

  "But that's the trouble," she interrupted, still very patiently. She sawthat she had struck the right chord in appealing to his chivalry, and inconceding as much as she had by the reference to their old comradeship.She had never liked him better than she did now; but she certainly didnot love him.

  She had directed the talk safely into tranquil channels, and he wasgrowing happier, and, if he had known it, relieved besides. He wanted tobe nearer to her than any one else, and he was touched by herdeclaration that she had needed him, and that he had failed her.

  "But sometime--you will not forget--"

  "Oh, sometime! we are not going to bother about that now. Just atpresent it's getting too cool for the open air and we must go inside."

  "But is it all right? You will pardon my offenses, won't you? And youwon't let any one else--"

  "Oh, you must be careful, and very good," she answered lightly, andgathered up her skirts in her hand. "We must go in, and," she lookeddown at him, laughing, "there must be a smile on the face of the tiger!"

  A fire of pinyon logs, brought from the Colorado hills, blazed in thewide fireplace at the end of the hall, and Evelyn and Warry joined thecircle which had formed about it.

  "Has the moon gone down?" asked Captain Wheelock, as a place was madefor them.

  "Not necessarily," said Raridan coolly. "Anybody but you would know thatthe moon isn't due yet."

  "It was getting cool outside," said Evelyn, finding a seat in theingle-nook.

  "Oh!" exclaimed the captain significantly, and looking hard at Raridan."Poor Mr. Raridan! The weather bureau has hardly reported a single frostthus far, and yet--and yet!" The others laughed, and Evelyn looked athim reproachfully.

  "You might try the weather conditions yourself," said Raridan easily,wishing to draw the fire to himself. "But at your age a man must becareful of the night air."

  He and Wheelock abused each other until the others begged them todesist; then some one attacked the piano and a few couples began todance. Mabel was anxious to stimulate the interest of the young man fromKeokuk, who had not thus far manifested sufficient courage to lead heroff for a tete-a-tete. He had proved a little slow, and she sought totreat him cruelly by seeming very much interested in Raridan, who satdown to talk to her. Warry was certainly much more distinguished thanany other young man in Clarkson,--a conclusion which was, in her mind,based on the fact that Warry lived without labor. The pilgrim fromKeokuk was the vice-president of an elevator company, and it seemed toher much nobler to live on the income of property that had been acquiredby one's ancestors than to be immediately concerned in earning alivelihood. She and Warry took several turns about the hall to the waltzwhich Belle Marshall was playing, and when the music ceased suddenlythey were in a far corner of the room. The chain on which herheart-pendant hung caught on a button of Raridan's coat as they stopped,and he took off his glasses to find and loosen the tangle, while shestood in a kind of triumphant embarrassment, knowing that Evelyn couldsee them from her corner by the fire. After the chain had been freed sheled the way to the window seat and sat down with a great show of fatiguefrom her dance.

  "A girl that wears her heart on a chain is likely to have daws peckingat it, isn't she?" suggested Raridan, wiping his glasses, and lookingat her with the vagueness of near-sighted eyes. This was, he knew,somewhat flirtatious; but he could no more help saying such things toyoung women than he could help his good looks. The fact that he had afew moments before been making love to another girl, with what hebelieved at the time to be real ardor, did not deter him. Mabel was agirl, and therefore pretty speeches were to be made to her. She wasunmistakably handsome, and a handsome girl, in particular, deserves aman's tribute of admiration. Mabel was not, however, used to Raridan'smethods; the men she had known best did not paraphrase Shakspere to her.But it was very agreeable to be sitting thus with the most eligible andbrilliant young man of Clarkson. Evelyn Porter, she could see, wasentertaining the young man from Keokuk, and the situation pleased her.

  "Oh, the chain is strong enough to hold it," she answered, running theslight strands through her fingers, and looking up archly. Her blackeyes were fine; she exercised a kind of witchery with them.

  "Lucky chap--the victim inside," continued Raridan, indicating theheart.

  "Well, that depends on the way you look at it."

  "I hope he knows," continued Warry. "It would be a shame for a man toenjoy that kind of distinction and not know it."

  Mabel held the silver heart in one hand and stroked it carefully withthe other. Most of the men she knew would be capable of taking theheart, even at the cost of a scuffle, and looking into it. She felt safewith Raridan. The young romantic actor whose picture enjoyed thedistinction of a place in the trinket did not know, of course, and wouldhave been bored if he had.

  "It would hardly be fair to carry his picture around if he didn't knowit, would it?" asked Mabel.

  "Of course not," said Warry; "I didn't imagine that you bought it!"

  "It wouldn't be nice for you to," said Mabel. The fact that she hadacquired it for twenty-five cents at a local bookstore did not troubleher.

  The music had begun again, but they continued talking, though otherswere dancing. Wheaton had joined Evelyn in the ingle-nook; and Evelynwas aware, without looking, that Mabel was making the most of heropportunity with Raridan; and she knew, too, that he was not averse to abit of by-play with her. She knew that if she really cared for him itwould hurt her to see him thus talking to another girl, but she wasconscious of no pang. Her heart burned with anger for a moment at thethought that he must think her conquest assured; but this was, sheremembered, "Warry's way," falling back on a phrase that was oftenspoken of him. She was a little tired, and experienced a feeling ofrelief in sitting here with Wheaton and listening to his commonplacetalk, which could be followed without effort.

  Wheaton was finding himself much at ease at Mabel's party, though hequestioned its propriety; he had a great respect for conventions. He waswell aware that there were differences between Evelyn Porter and herfriends, and Miss Margrave and those whom he knew to be her intimates.Miss Porter was much finer in her instincts and her intelligence; hewould have been puzzled for an explanation of the points of variance,but he knew that they existed. The young man from Keokuk had moved awayand left him with Evelyn, and it was certainly very pleasant to besitting in a quiet corner with a girl whom everybody admired, and whowas, he felt sure, easily the most distinguished girl in town. He hadarrived late, to be sure, in the first social circle of Clarkson, but hehad found the gate open, and he was suffered to enter and make himselfat home just as thoroughly as any other man might--as completely so, forinstance, as Warrick Raridan, who had wealth and the prestige of an oldfamily behind him.

  "I'm sure we shall all get much pleasure out of the Country Club," saidEvelyn, who sat on the low bench between him and the fire.

  "Yes, and the house is pretty good, considering the small amount ofmoney that was put into it."

  "Another case where good taste is better than money. We Americans havebeen so slow about such things; but now there seems to be widespreadinterest in outdoor life." Wheaton knew only vaguely that there was, buthe was learning that it was not necessary to know much about things tobe able to talk of them; so he acquiesced, and they fell to discussinggolf, or at least Evelyn did,
with the zeal of the fresh convert.

  "I think I'll have to take it up. You make it sound very attractive."

  "The Scotch owed us something good," said Evelyn; "they gave us oatmealfor breakfast, and made life unendurable to that extent. But we canforgive them if they take us out of doors and get us away from officesand houses. Our western business men are incorrigible, though. Thefarther west you go, the more hours a day men put into business."

  Evelyn soon sent Wheaton to bring Mrs. Whipple and Annie Warren, whowere stranded in a corner, and they became spectators of the pranks ofsome of the others, who had now gathered about the piano, where CaptainWheelock had undertaken to lead in the singing of popular airs. Thesingers were not taking their efforts very seriously. All knew some ofthe words of "Annie Carroll," but none knew all, so that their effortswere marked by scattering good-will rather than by unanimity ofknowledge. When one lost the words and broke down, they all laughed inderision. Mabel and Raridan had joined the circle, and Warry enteredinto the tentative singing with the spirit he always brought to anyoccasion. Mabel, who imported all the new songs from New York, gave"Don't Throw Snowballs at the Soda-water Man" as a solo, and did itwell--almost too well. Occasionally one of the group at the piano turnedto demand that those who lingered by the fireside join in the singing,but Wheaton was shy of this hilarity, and was comfortable in his beliefthat Evelyn was showing a preference for him in electing to remainaloof. He did not understand that her evident preference was due to afeeling that he was older than the rest and too stiff and formal fortheir frivolity.

  Mrs. Whipple made little effort to talk to Wheaton, though sheoccasionally threw out some comment on the singers to Evelyn. Wheatondid not amuse Mrs. Whipple. He had only lately dawned on her horizon,and she had already appraised him and filed her impression away in hermemory. He was not, she had determined, a complex character; she knew,as perfectly as if he had made a full confession of himself to her, hisnew ambitions, his increasing conceit and belief in himself. She hadbeen more successful in preventing marriages than in effecting them, andshe sat watching him with a quizzical expression in her eyes; for theremight be danger in him for this girl, though it had not appeared. Butwhen her eyes rested on Evelyn she seemed to find an answer that allayedher fears; Evelyn was hardly a girl that would need guardianship. As thenoise from the group at the piano rose to the crescendo at which itbroke into laughing discord, Evelyn met suddenly the gaze with whichthis old friend had been regarding her, and gave back a nod and smilethat were in themselves unconsciously reassuring.

  Some one suggested presently that if they were to drive home in themoonlight they should be going; and the coach soon swung away from thedoor into the moon's floodtide. The wind was still, as if in awe of thelighted world. The town lay far below in a white pool. Mabel again tookthe reins, and as the coach rumbled and crunched over the road, lighthearts had recourse to song; but even the singing was subdued, and thetrumpeter's note failed miserably when the horses' hoofs struck smartlyon the streets of the town.