Part 22 (1/2)
”He said that.”
”Who, Warrington?” puzzled.
”He said almost the same thing. Would he say that if he were a liar?”
”I haven't accused him of being that. Indeed, he struck me as a truthful young man. But he confessed to me that ten years ago he robbed his employer of eight thousand dollars. By the way, what is the name of the firm your father founded?”
”The Andes Construction Company. Do you think we could find him something to do there?” eagerly. ”He builds bridges.”
”I shouldn't advise that. But we have gone astray. You ought not to see him again.”
”I have made up my mind not to.”
”Then pardon me for all this pother. I know what is in your heart, Elsa. You want to help the poor devil back to what he was; but he'll have to do that by himself.”
”It is a hateful world!” Elsa appealed to the wife.
”It is, Elsa, dear. But James is right.”
”You'll get your balance,” said the guardian, ”when you reach home.
When's the wedding?”
”I'm not sure that I'm going to be married.” Elsa twirled the sunshade again. ”I really wish I had stayed at home. I seem all topsy-turvy.
I could have screamed when I saw the man standing on the ledge above the boat that night. No; I do not believe I shall marry. Fancy marrying a man and knowing that his ghost was at the same time wandering about the earth!” She rose and the sunshade described a half-circle as she spoke. ”Oh, bother with it all! Dinner at eight, in the big dining-room.”
”Yes. But the introductions will be made on the cafe-veranda. These people out here have gone mad over c.o.c.k-tails. And look your best, Elsa. I want them to see a real American girl to-night. I'll have some roses sent up to you.”
Elsa had not the heart to tell him that all interest in his dinner had suddenly gone from her mind; that even the confusion of the colonel no longer appealed to her bitter malice. She knew that she was going to be bored and miserable. Well, she had promised. She would put on her best gown; she would talk and laugh and jest because she had done these things many times when her heart was not in the play of it.
When she was gone, the consul-general's wife said: ”Poor girl!”
Her husband looked across the room interestedly. ”Why do you say that?”
”I am a woman.”
”That phrase is the City of Refuge. All women fly to it when confronted by something they do not understand.”
”Oh, but I do understand. And that's the pity of it.”
XIV
ACCORDING TO THE RULES
Elsa sought the hotel rickshaw-stand, selected a st.u.r.dy coolie, and asked to be run to the botanical gardens and back. She wanted to be alone, wanted breathing-s.p.a.ce, wanted the breeze to cool her hot cheeks. For she was angry at the world, angry at the gentle consul-general, above all, angry at herself. To have laid herself open to the charge of indiscretion! To have received a lecture, however kindly intended, from the man she loved and respected next to her father! To know that persons were exchanging nods and whispers behind her back!
It was a detestable world. It was folly to be honest, to be kind, to be individual, to have likes and dislikes, unless these might be regulated by outsiders. Why should she care what people said? She did not care. What made her furious was the absolute stupidity of their deductions. She had not been indiscreet; she had been merely kindly and human; and if they wanted to twist and misconstrue her actions, let them do so.
She hated the word ”people.” It seemed to signify all the useless inefficient persons in the world, ma.s.sed together after the manner of sheep and cattle, stupidest of beasts, always wanting something and never knowing what; not an individual among them. And they expected her to conform with their ways! Was it necessary for her to tell these meddlers why she had sought the companions.h.i.+p of a self-admitted malefactor? . . . Oh, that could not be! If evil were to be found in such a man, then there was no good anywhere. What was one misstep?