Part 10 (1/2)

”Yes; women that a man has been used to for many long weary years,--to put it in another way.”

”But surely you find Ila very fascinating?”

”Oh, yes; but one understands the fascination so well; and it gives so much pleasure to--twenty-two, that it is almost immoral for an old fogy like myself to monopolise it. I don't understand you in the least, so I am here.”

Magdalena trembled a little. The nineteen years of her life suddenly a.s.sumed a glad complexion, lifting her spirit to the level of her mates.

She tried to recall the sad and bitter experiences of her brief past, but they scampered down into the roots of memory.

He did not speak again for a time, beyond asking if he might smoke. He was quite sincere for the moment; but he understood the much of her that was salient to his trained eye. Her parents, her timid reserve, so unlike that of other American girls favoured by fortune, her ignorance of certain conventionalities, the very fas.h.i.+on of her hair, the very incompatibility of her costume and colouring, told him two thirds of her short history. Of the history of her inner life he guessed little, but believed that she had both depth of mind and intensity of feeling. To get her confidence would be next to impossible; it was therefore well worth the effort. If she proved as interesting as he suspected, he believed that he should feel disposed to marry her did she only have a complexion. He was weary straight down into the depths of his weary soul of the women and the girls of the world; but he also abhorred a sallow skin. He had wors.h.i.+pped beauty in his day, and was by no means impervious to it yet; but he felt that he could overlook Magdalena's nose and mouth and elementary figure for the sake of her eyes and originality, did she only possess the primary essential of beauty. A man regards a woman's lack of complexion as a personal grievance.

If the American habit of monologue had been a part of Trennahan's inheritance, his foreign training had long since lifted it up by the roots; but he saw that if he was to make progress with this silent girl, he must do the talking. He could be both brilliant and amusing when he chose, and he exerted himself as he had not done for some time. He was rewarded by a rapt attention, a humble and profound admiration that would have flattered a demi-G.o.d. And in truth he was a demi-G.o.d to this girl, with her experience of elderly old-fas.h.i.+oned men and an occasional callow youth encountered on a verandah in summer.

They followed the driveway that curved between one of the two larger lawns and the deer park. The lawn was set thickly along its edge and spa.r.s.ely on its sweep with fragrant trees and shrubs. Beyond the deer park was the black ma.s.s of the woods. The air was sweet with the mingled breath of June roses, orange blossoms, and the pepper-tree. After a time their way lay through a dark avenue of immense oaks, and the perfumes came from the Mariposa lilies in the fields beyond.

If Trennahan had been with Ila, he would have conducted himself as his surroundings and his companion demanded: he would have made love. But he was a man who rarely made a mistake; he talked to Magdalena of the difference between California and the many other countries he had visited, and answered her eager questions about life in the great capitals. As they were returning, he said to her,--

”You say you ride before breakfast. Do you think I might join you to-morrow? Your father has been kind enough to place his stable at my disposal.”

”Oh--I--I don't know. My father is very--Spanish, although he doesn't like you to call it that.”

”May I ask him?”

”Oh, yes, you could ask him.”

When they reached the house he sought his host in the billiard-room. The game was over, and Don Roberto, Mr. Polk, and Mr. Was.h.i.+ngton were seated in front of the mantel-piece with their feet on the shelf. It was Don Roberto's favourite att.i.tude; he felt that it completed the structure of his Americanism. He could only reach the tip of the shelf with the points of his little elegant feet, but he was just as comfortable as Mr.

Polk, whose feet, large and booted, were planted against the wall. Mr.

Was.h.i.+ngton, who was a most correct gentleman, with the ill.u.s.trious forbears his name suggested, had never lifted his feet to one of his own mantels in his life; but Don Roberto's guests always humoured this little hobby, among many others.

”Ay, the Mr. Trennahan,” said Don Roberto, graciously. ”We make room for you.”

The others moved along, and Trennahan, seeing what was expected of him, brought a chair and elevated his feet among the Chinese bric-a-brac. He accepted a choice cigar--there were certain luxuries in which Don Roberto never economised--and added his quota to the anecdotes of the hearthstone. As his were fresh and the others as worn as an old wedding-ring, it was not long before he had an audience which would brook no interruption but applause.

A Chinaman brought a peremptory message from Mrs. Was.h.i.+ngton, and the feet on the mantel were reduced to six. When these came down, two hours later, Trennahan said to Don Roberto,--

”May I ride with Miss Yorba to-morrow before breakfast?”

”Yes; I no mind,” said the don, beaming with approval of his new friend.

”But the boy, he go too. My daughter, no must ride alone with the gentleman. And you no leave the grounds, remember.”

XVI

When Magdalena went up to her room, she spread all her pretty gifts on the table and asked herself if they were the secret of this novel feeling of content with herself and her world. She studied the mirror and fancied that she was not so plain as usual. Her eyes returned to her presents, and she shook her head. Her mind worked slowly, but it worked logically; nor was that imagination hers which keeps woman in a fool's paradise long after all but the husk of her Adam has gone.

”It is Mr. Trennahan,” she admitted reluctantly but ruthlessly. ”He is so clever and so agreeable--no, fascinating--that for the first time I forgot myself, and when I remembered was not unhappy because I am not beautiful nor clever. The world must be much nicer than I thought if there are many people like that in it.”

To love she did not give a thought, but she smiled to herself after the light was out, and, still smiling, fell asleep.