Part 79 (1/2)

Forbes took the money, promising himself that he would scatter it in beautiful deeds of charity.

But he didn't.

One never does.

In the first place, money in large quant.i.ties has singular adhesive and cohesive properties. In the second place, when the news of his wealth was published he received such serial avalanches of begging letters of every sort, n.o.ble and ign.o.ble, that he was dismayed. He showed a stack of them to Ten Eyck, who said:

”You could give away your fortune in a week, and make about as much of a show as if you drove a sprinkling-cart along the main street of h.e.l.l.

All millionaires grow callous; if they don't, they cease to be millionaires.”

Forbes answered a few of the appeals with cheques, and planned to file the others alphabetically for future reference. But he never got round to filing them.

This was not the only sarcasm of his wealth. He had returned to his duties as a line captain and was restored to Governor's Island. But here again there was discomfort. His fellow-officers envied him his luck, but despised him for not profiting by it. And it did seem peculiarly grotesque that a man of his important means should be trudging about on a drill-ground giving orders to stupid privates and taking orders from stupid superiors. His very men seemed to think he was a ludicrous fanatic. He felt that he must leave the service.

He poured out his woes to Ten Eyck again, who advised caution. ”Don't jump out of the frying-pan, Forbes, till you've tested the fire with your big toe. You might be even unhappier out of the army than in it.

Ask for a long leave of absence--say, six months, and see how you like it. Then you can resign or go back.”

”They won't give me six months' leave without a good reason,” Forbes demurred, though he was fascinated by the idea.

”A lot of money is a good reason for nearly anything. Anybody will give a rich man what he asks for,” Ten Eyck insisted. ”Take some of the high boys out in your car, and blow them off to a gorgeous evening, and promise them some more of the same. Then pop the question.”

Forbes made the attempt, and it succeeded with surprising ease; he was granted six months' leave of absence without pay ”for special research and experiment.”

His research was into the comforts of wealth, and his experiment was the effect of life without labor or ambition.

Forbes had a car now. He had not intended to get one, but after dodging salesmen for weeks one of them lay in ambush for him and carried him off for a ride--a demonstration in disguise. He was so captivated by the 1915 model and the enlarged powers it gave him that he capitulated and bought. He learned to be his own chauffeur; but this was so inconvenient at times that he was soon hiring a charioteer. And, of course, he never skimmed the earth or sped through beauties of landscape that he did not wish for Persis at his side. He had a better car than Enslee's now. He could buy Persis the costly, cozy little runabout she wanted; he could hire her father's chauffeur and Nichette. He could buy her great quant.i.ties of clothes, and he had leisure for her entertainment. But he had not her, nor the right to buy things for her.

Away from her he found that time was softening his remorse without hardening his heart against her. His wealth was mockery, his leisure was mockery. His mind was hardly more than a music-box eternally purling one little tune: ”Persis-Persis-Persis!”

And then Persis came back, as if his longing had pulsed across the sea.

She had no difficulty in persuading Willie to return to New York. He felt positively footsore from travel.

As they came up the Bay on a home-bound liner her heart was beating as if she were entering a dark room full of ghosts. As Governor's Island was reached she studied it again with a marine-gla.s.s.

She thought of the little homes of the officers' wives, the little garage-less quarters where there must be so much content. She wished to G.o.d that she were living in one of those little homes there.

If she had married Forbes she would never have caused the Amba.s.sador's death; she would not have given herself to Willie Enslee. She could not have had more unhappiness, more loneliness and vain regrets. She would have dwelt in Forbes' arms; she would have been his all day long and all the long nights. All this past and horrible year would have been a true honeymoon. Love would have been wealth enough.

As she had told Alice Neff, ”Almost anything that we are not used to is a luxury.” She had learned the corollary, that almost any luxury becomes a poverty as soon as one is used to it. She was all too familiar with splendor. She hungered for a life of little comforts. The word ”cozy”

grew magically beautiful.

She had not been long ash.o.r.e before she learned the new status of Forbes. It was Mrs. Neff who told her, taunting her with having jumped into the marital noose with Willie too soon.

She had not been long ash.o.r.e before she met Forbes. And once more it was Willie who brought her into his presence.

Forbes was now a member of several of the more important clubs. Willie met him at one of them, and asked him to join a crowd he was inviting up to the country place.

Forbes' heart began to knock at his breast at the thought of being with Persis again in the Enslee Eden. A remnant of honesty led him to decline the invitation on the ground of another engagement, but Willie insisted.

”You had such a rotten time there last spring,” he said. ”I want to make up. There won't be any lilacs yet; but there'll be servants--and something to eat.”