Part 50 (1/2)
He took a step toward her and seized the outstretched hand roughly.
”You are out of your senses or you wouldn't speak in this way of Miss Garrison. She's been a kind friend to you all summer; you've told me yourself self how she's gone up to brush your hair and do little things for you that the nurse couldn't do as well. You've grown morbid from being ill so long, but nothing was ever more infamous than your insinuations against Miss Garrison. She's a n.o.ble girl and it's not surprising that Aunt Sally should like her. Everybody likes her!”
Having delivered this blow he settled himself more firmly on his feet and glared.
”Everybody likes her!” she repeated, s.n.a.t.c.hing away her hand. ”I'd like to know how you come to know so much about her.”
”I know enough about her: I know all about her!”
”Then you know more than anybody else does. n.o.body else seems to know _anything_ about her!” she ended triumphantly.
”There you go again with insinuations! It's ungenerous, it's unlike you.”
”Morton Ba.s.sett,” she went on huskily, ”if you took some interest in your own children it would be more to your credit. You blamed me for letting Marian go to the Willings' and then telegraphed for her to come home. It's a beautiful relations.h.i.+p you have established with your children! She hasn't even answered your telegram. But I suppose if she had you'd have kept it from me. The newspapers talk about your secretive ways, but they don't know you, Morton Ba.s.sett, as I do. I suppose you can't imagine yourself entertaining Marian on the veranda or walking with her, talking and laughing, as I saw you with that girl.”
”Well, thank G.o.d there's somebody I can talk and laugh with! I'm glad to be able to tell you that Marian will be home to-morrow. You may have the satisfaction of knowing that if you _would_ let her go to the Willings'
with Allen Thatcher I can at least bring her back after you failed to do it.”
”So you did hear from her, did you! Of course you couldn't have told me: I suppose you confide in Miss Garrison now,” she ended drearily.
His wife's fatigue, betrayed in her tired voice, did not mitigate the stab with which he wished to punish her references to Sylvia. And he delivered it with careful calculation.
”You are quite right, Hallie. I did speak to Miss Garrison about Marian.
Miss Garrison has gone to bring Marian home. That's all; go to bed.”
CHAPTER XXVIII
A CHEERFUL BRINGER OF BAD TIDINGS
The announcement that Harwood was preparing to attack the reorganization of the White River Canneries corporation renewed the hopes of many victims of that experiment in high finance, and most of the claims reached Dan's office that summer. The legal points involved were sufficiently difficult to evoke his best energies, and he dug diligently in the State Library preparing his case. He was enjoying the cool, calm heights of a new freedom. Many older men were eking out a bare living at the law, and the ranks were sadly overcrowded, but he faced the future confidently. He meant to practice law after ideals established by men whose names were still potent in the community; he would not race with the ambulance to pick up damage suits, and he refused divorce cases and small collection business. He meant to be a lawyer, not a scandal-hunting detective or pursuer of small debtors with a constable's process.
He tried to forget politics, and yet, in spite of his indifference, hardly a day pa.s.sed that did not bring visitors to his office bent upon discussing the outlook. Many of these were from the country; men who, like Ramsay, were hopeful of at last getting rid of Ba.s.sett. Some of his visitors were young lawyers like himself, most of them graduates of the state colleges, who were disposed to take their politics seriously. Nor were these all of his own party. He found that many young Republicans, affected by the prevailing unrest, held practically his own views on national questions. Several times he gathered up half a dozen of these acquaintances for frugal dinners in the University Club rathskeller, or they met in the saloon affected by Allen's friends of Luders's carpenter shop. He wanted them to see all sides of the picture, and he encouraged them to crystallize their fears and hopes; more patriotism and less partisans.h.i.+p, they all agreed, was the thing most needed in America.
Allen appeared in Dan's office unexpectedly one hot morning and sat down on a chair piled with open lawbooks. Allen had benefited by his month's sojourn in the Adirondacks, and subsequent cruises in his motor car had tanned his face becomingly. He was far from rugged, but he declared that he expected to live forever.
”I'm full of dark tidings! Much has happened within forty-eight hours.
See about our smash-up in Chicago! Must have read it in the newspapers?”
”A nice, odorous mess,” observed Dan, filling his pipe. ”I'm pained to see that you go chasing around with the plutocrats smas.h.i.+ng lamp-posts in our large centres of population. That sort of thing is bound to establish your reputation as the friend of the oppressed. Was the chauffeur's funeral largely attended?”
”Pshaw; he was only scratched; we chucked him into the hospital to keep him from being arrested, that was all. Look here, old man, you don't seem terribly sympathetic. Maybe you didn't notice that it was _my_ car that got smashed! It looked like a junk dealer's back yard when they pulled us out. I told them to throw it into the lake: I've just ordered a new car. I never cared for that one much anyhow.”
”Another good note for the boys around Luders's joint! You're identified forever with the red-necked aristocrats who smash five thousand dollar motors and throw them away. You'd better go out in the hall and read the sign on the door. I'm a lawyer, not a father confessor to the undeserving rich.”
”This is serious, Dan,” Allen remonstrated, twirling his straw hat nervously. ”All that happened in connection with the smash-up didn't get into the newspapers.”
”The 'Advertiser' had enough of it: they printed, published, and uttered an extra with Marian's picture next to yours on the first page! You can't complain of the publicity you got out of that light adventure. How much s.p.a.ce do you think it was worth?”
”Stop chaffing and hear me out! I'm up against a whole lot of trouble, and I came to get your advice. You see, Dan, the Ba.s.setts didn't know Marian was going on that automobile trip. Her mother had written her to leave the Willings' and go home--twice! And her father telegraphed--after we left the farm. She never got the telegram. Then, when Mr. Ba.s.sett read of the smash in the papers, I guess he was warm clear through. You know he doesn't cut loose very often; and--”
”And he jumped on the train and went to Chicago to s.n.a.t.c.h Marian away from the Willings? I should think he would have done just that.”