Part 58 (1/2)

”I know what you're thinking,” he said, when Alston stopped, with a last splutter, and wiped his eyes. ”You're thinking, between us we've broken all the codes. I have vilified my wife. I've warned you against her and you haven't resented it. It shows the value of extreme common-sense in affairs of the heart. It shows also that I haven't an illusion left about Esther, and that you haven't either. And if we say another word about it we shall have to get up and fight, to save our self-respect.”

So Alston did now light his cigarette and they went on smoking. They talked about the boys at their game and only when the players came down to the scow, presumably to push over and buy doughnuts of Ma'am Fowler, did they get up to go. As they turned away from the scene of boyish intimacies, involuntarily they stiffened into another manner; there was even some implication of mutual dislike in it, of guardedness, one against the other. But when they parted at the corner of the street Alston, out of his perplexity, ventured a question.

”I should be very glad to be told if, as you say, you took the necklace out of Esther's bag, why you took it.”

”Sorry,” said Jeff. ”You deserve to be told the whole business. But you can't be.”

So he went home, knowing he was going to an inquiring Lydia. And how would an exalted common-sense work if presented to Lydia? He thought of it all the way. How would it do if, in these big crises of the heart, men and women actually told each other what they thought? It was not the way of nature as she stood by their side prompting them to their most picturesque att.i.tude, that her work might be accomplished, saying to the man, ”Prove yourself a devil of a fellow because the girl desires a hero,” and to the girl, ”Be modesty and gentleness ineffable because that is the complexion a hero loves.” And the man actually believes he is a hero and the girl doesn't know she is hiding herself behind a veil too dazzling to let him see her as she is. How would it be if they outwitted nature at her little game and gave each other the fealty of blood brothers, the interchange of the true word?

Lydia came to the supper table with the rest. She was rather quiet and absorbed and not especially alive to Jeff's coming in. No quick glance questioned him about the state of things as he had left them. But after supper she lingered behind the others and asked him directly:

”Couldn't we go out somewhere and talk?”

”Yes,” said he. ”We could walk down to the river.”

They started at once, and Anne, seeing them go, sighed deeply. Lydia was shut away from her lately. Anne missed her.

Lydia and Jeff went down the narrow path at the back of the house, a path that had never, so persistent was it, got quite grown over in the years when the maiden ladies lived here. Perhaps boys had kept it alive, running that way. At the foot and on the river bank were bushes, alder and a wilderness of small trees bound by wild grape-vines into a wall.

Through these Lydia led the way to the fallen birch by the waterside.

She turned and faced Jeffrey in the gathering dusk. He fancied her face looked paler than it should.

”Does she know it?” asked Lydia.

”Who?”

”Esther. Does she know I stole it out of the bag?”

”Yes,” said Jeff. Suddenly he determined to tell the truth to Lydia. She looked worthy of it. He wouldn't save her pain that belonged to the tangle where they groped. He and she would share the pain together. ”She guessed it. n.o.body told her she was right.”

”Then,” said Lydia, ”I must go away.”

”Go away?”

”To save Farvie and Anne. They mustn't know it. I wanted to go this afternoon, just as soon as you took the necklace away from me and I realised what people would say. But I knew that would be silly. People can't run away and leave notes behind. But I can tell Anne I want to go to New York and get pupils. And I could get them. I can do housework, too.”

She was an absolutely composed Lydia. She had forestalled him in her colossal common-sense.

”But, Lydia,” said he, ”you don't need to. Madame Beattie has her necklace. I gave it back into her hand. I daresay the old harpy will want hush money, but that's not your business. It's mine. I can't give her any if I would, and she knows it. She'll simply light here like a bird of prey for a while and harry me for money to s.h.i.+eld Esther, to s.h.i.+eld you, and when she finds she can't get it she'll sail peacefully off.”

”Madame Beattie wouldn't do anything hateful to me,” said Lydia.

”Oh, yes, she would, if she could get an income out of it. She wouldn't mean to be hateful. That night-hawk isn't hateful when it spears a mole.”

”Do you mean,” said Lydia, ”that just because Madame Beattie has her necklace back, they couldn't arrest me? Because if they could I've certainly got to go away. I can't kill Farvie and Anne.”

”n.o.body will arrest anybody,” said Jeff. ”You are absolutely out of it.

And you must keep your mouth tight and stay out.”