Part 44 (1/2)

She paused again; and still the usually fluent Channing had not found his voice.

”I thought it best,” she went on, ”to write to my friend Professor Thorpe, who introduced you to our house. Be kind enough to read his reply.”

Channing took the letter, and made pretense of reading it, though he was only too well aware of its contents.

MY DEAR KATE:

Your letter overwhelms me. I had no idea that my nephew was on terms of any intimacy in your household. Jemima, in fact, a.s.sured me that the contrary was the case, and Jemima is not often mistaken.

I blame myself deeply for having introduced Percival at Storm without explanation. It is painful for me to have to inform you that my sisters son is at present under somewhat of a cloud. To be frank, he recently made a journey to Canada in company with a certain young person whom he had the hardihood to introduce at various hotels, clubs, etc., as his wife. When he wished to terminate the arrangement, he found himself unable to do so because the woman entered claims upon him as what is termed a common-law wife.

The matter has with some difficulty been kept out of the public prints, and is now in the hands of lawyers for adjustment. My sister meanwhile claimed my hospitality for her son until such time as the scandal shall have blown over. I need not say that I regret having acceded to her request.

My nephew, being in no position to marry, was of course culpably wrong in offering attentions to any young girl. I can only hope that the peculiarities of his temperament prevented him from realizing what he was doing, and that he possibly regards Jacqueline merely as an extremely charming child, which she is.

Surely the affair cannot go deeply with one so immature as Jacqueline.

On my return to Kentucky, I shall hasten to make apologies to you in person for myself and for my nephew. I do not trust myself to communicate with Percival at present, lest I forget what is due the undeniable ties of blood.

Your devoted servant, THORPE.

Postscriptum: Percival is an egregious young a.s.s.

J. T.

Channing finished the letter, adding to it a heartfelt if unspoken ”Amen!”

”Well?” asked Mrs. Kildare. ”What have you to say, please? Do you regard Jacqueline as merely a charming child?”

”No,” he was impelled to answer. ”Not--not now.”

”Ah! Not now.” Kate's lips set grimly, but she continued in a very quiet voice, ”Have you anything to say, perhaps? I do not wish to be unfair.”

Channing had a great deal to say, but he found some difficulty in saying it. He found some difficulty in meeting Mrs. Kildare's eyes. He felt more and more like a schoolboy who is about to receive a well-deserved whipping.--And then, quite suddenly, he recalled the past career of this outraged mother, with her righteous indignation; and fluency returned to him.

”My dear lady, it's all such a tempest in a tea-pot! My uncle's an old fogy. But you're a woman of the world--you will understand.--I made a fool of myself in that affair, of course. Still, who would have supposed the woman wouldn't play the game? She's an old hand, an ex-chorus girl, and all that--Fay Lanham--any one can tell you about her. I don't know what got into her, except that I'm making a good deal of money nowadays, and I suppose she's ready to settle down. It was all quite understood, I a.s.sure you--”

Mrs. Kildare suddenly rose, and he saw for the first time how tall she was. ”I am not and have never been a woman of the world, but I know men, if that is what you mean. And I know”--her voice cut like a whip--”that when these things occur among men of honor, at least the names of their victims are not mentioned.”

He stared at her in genuine surprise. Chivalry in connection with Fay Lanham!--the combination was fantastic. ”Oh, but--professionals!” he murmured. ”I a.s.sure you she was no 'victim'--not as much a victim, perhaps, as myself.”

”That does not interest me. What I wish to know is whether you are free to marry or not.”

”Frankly, I don't know, Mrs. Kildare. The lawyers are to settle that.”

”And not knowing, you have dared to court my daughter Jacqueline?”

The repet.i.tion of the old-fas.h.i.+oned phrase jarred his over-strung nerves. ”My dear lady, if you mean by 'courting,' Have I proposed marriage to your daughter? I have not. If you mean, Have I made love to her? Yes. Naturally. Why not? I a.s.sure you, she has met me more than half way.”

The instant the words were out, he would have given much to recall them.