Part 15 (1/2)

”Infamy!” gasped Mrs. Tresslyn. ”Infamy? What rot,-what utter rot!”

”Just the same, I shall confine myself to the original bargain. It is bad enough. I shan't make it any worse by taking money that doesn't belong to me.”

”Those bonds are yours,” snapped Mrs. Tresslyn. ”You are certainly ent.i.tled to the interest. You-”

”They are _not_ mine,” returned Anne decisively. ”Not until Mr. Thorpe is dead, if you please. I am to have my pay after he has pa.s.sed away, no sooner. That was the bargain.”

”You did not hesitate to accept some rather expensive pearls if I remember correctly,” said Mrs. Tresslyn bitingly.

”That was his affair, not mine,” said Anne coolly. ”He despises me so thoroughly that he thought he could go beyond his contract and tempt me with this interest we are quarrelling about, mother. He was sure that I would jump at it as a greedy fish snaps at the bait. But I disappointed him. I shall never forget the look of surprise,-no, it was wonder,-that came into his eyes when I flatly refused to take this interest. That was nearly a year ago. He began to treat me with a little respect after that.

There is scarcely a month goes by that he does not bring up the subject. I think he has never abandoned the hope that I may give in, after all.

Lately he has taken to chuckling when I make my monthly protest against accepting this money. He can't believe it of me. He thinks there is something amusing about what I have been foolish enough to call my sense of honour. Still, I believe he has a little better opinion of me than he had at first. And now, mother, once and for all, let us consider the matter closed. I will not take the interest until the princ.i.p.al is indisputably mine.”

”You are a fool, Anne,” said her mother, in her desperation; ”a simple, ridiculous fool. Why shouldn't you take it? It is yours. You can't afford to throw away ninety thousand dollars. The bank has orders to pay it over to you, and it is deposited to your account. That ought to settle the matter. If it isn't yours, may I enquire to whom does it belong?”

”Time enough to decide that, mother,” said Anne, so composedly that Mrs.

Tresslyn writhed with exasperation. ”I haven't quite decided who is to have it in the end. You may be sure, however, that I shall give it to some worthy cause. It shan't be wasted.”

”Do you mean to say that you will give it away-give it to charity?”

groaned her mother.

”Certainly.”

Words failed Mrs. Tresslyn. She could only stare in utter astonishment at this incomprehensible creature.

”I may have to ask your advice when the time comes,” went on Anne, complacently. ”You must a.s.sist me in selecting the most worthy charity, mother dear.”

”I suppose it has never occurred to you that there is some justice in the much abused axiom that charity begins at home,” said Mrs. Tresslyn frigidly.

”Not in our home, however,” said Anne. ”That's where it ends, if it ends anywhere.”

”I have hesitated to speak to you about it, Anne, but I am afraid I shall now have to confess that I am sorely pressed for money,” said Mrs.

Tresslyn deliberately, and from that moment on she never ceased to employ this argument in her crusade against Anne's ingrat.i.tude.

There was no estrangement. Neither of them could afford to go to such lengths. They saw a great deal of each other, and, despite the constant bickerings over the idle money, there was little to indicate that they were at loggerheads. Mrs. Tresslyn was forced at last to recognise the futility of her appeals to Anne's sense of duty, and contented herself with occasional bitter references to her own financial distress. She couldn't understand the girl, and she gave up trying. As a matter of fact, she began to fear that she would never be able to understand either one of her children. She could not even imagine how they could have come by the extraordinary stubbornness with which they appeared to be afflicted.

As for George Tresslyn, he was going to the dogs as rapidly and as accurately as possible. He took to drink, and drink took him to cards. The efforts of Simmy Dodge and other friends, including the despised Percy Wintermill, were of no avail. He developed a pugnacious capacity for resenting advice. It was easy to see what was behind the big boy's behaviour: simple despair. He counted himself among the failures. In due time he lost his position in Wall Street and became a complaining dependent upon his mother's generosity. He met her arguments with the furious and constantly reiterated charge that she had ruined his life.

That was another thing that Mrs. Tresslyn could not understand. How, in heaven's name, had she ruined his life?

He took especial delight in directing her attention to the upward progress of the discredited Lutie.

That attractive young person, much to Mrs. Tresslyn's disgust, actually had insinuated her vulgar presence into comparatively good society, and was coming on apace. Blithe, and gay, and discriminating, the former ”mustard girl” was making a place for herself among the moderately smart people. Now and then her name appeared in the society columns of the newspapers, where, much to Mrs. Tresslyn's annoyance, she was always spoken of as ”Mrs. George Dexter Tresslyn.” Moreover, in several instances, George's mother had found her own name printed next to Lutie's in the alphabetical list of guests at rather large entertainments, and once,-heaven forfend that it should happen again!-the former ”mustard girl's” picture was published on the same page of a supplement with that of the exclusive Mrs. Tresslyn and her daughter, Mrs. Templeton Thorpe, over the caption: ”The Tresslyn Triumvirate,” supplied by a subsequently disengaged art editor.

George came near to being turned out into the street one day when he so far forgot himself as to declare that Lutie was worth the whole Tresslyn lot put together, and she ought to be thankful she had had ”the can tied to her” in time. His mother was livid with fury.

”If you ever mention that person's name in this house again, you will have to leave it forever. If she's worth anything at all it is because she has appropriated the Tresslyn name that you appear to belittle. You-”