the price she paid-第34章

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‘‘I　know　there　isn't　anyone　else；''　he　went　on。　　‘‘So；　I'm　suredead　sure；　Mildred；　that　I　can　teach　you　to　love　me。''

She　looked　at　him　pleadingly。　　‘‘I　don't　have　to　answer　right　away？''

‘‘Certainly　not；''　laughed　he。　　‘‘But　why　shouldn't　you？　　What　is　there　against　our　getting　married？　Nothing。　　And　everything　for　it。　　Our　marriage　will　straighten　out　all　thethe　little　difficulties；　and　you　can　go　ahead　with　the　singing　and　not　bother　about　money；　or　what　people　might　say；　or　any　of　those　things。''

‘‘II've　got　to　think　about　it；　Stanley；''　she　said　gently。　　‘‘I　want　to　do　the　decent　thing　by　you　and　by　myself。''

‘‘You're　afraid　I'll　interfere　in　the　careerwon't　want　you　to　go　on？　　Mildred；　I　swear　I'm''

‘‘It　isn't　that；''　she　interrupted；　her　color　high。　‘‘The　truth　is''　she　faltered；　came　to　a　full　stop　cried；　‘‘Oh；　I　can't　talk　about　it　to…night。''

‘‘To…morrow？''　he　suggested。

‘‘Idon't　know；''　she　stammered。　　‘‘Perhaps　to…　morrow。　　But　it　may　be　two　or　three　days。''

Stanley　looked　crestfallen。　　‘‘That　hurts；　Mildred；''

he　said。　　‘‘I　was　SO　full　of　it；　so　anxious　to　be　entirely　happy；　and　I　thought　you'd　fall　right　in　with　it。　Something　to　do　with　money？　　You're　horribly　sensitive　about　money；　dear。　　I　like　that　in　you；　of　course。　Not　many　women　would　have　been　as　square；　would　have　taken　as　littleand　worked　hardand　thought　and　cared　about　nothing　but　making　good　　By　Jove；　it's　no　wonder　I'm　stark　crazy　about　YOU！''

She　was　flushed　and　trembling。　　‘‘Don't；''　she　pleaded。　　‘‘You're　beating　me　down　into　the　dust。　　I　I'm''　　She　started　up。　　‘‘I　can't　talk　to…night。　I　might　say　things　I'd　be　　I　can't　talk　about　it。　　I　must''

She　pressed　her　lips　together　and　fled　through　the　hall　to　her　own　room；　to　shut　and　lock　herself　in。　　He　stared　in　amazement。　　When　he　heard　the　distant　sound　of　the　turning　key　he　dropped　to　a　chair　again　and　laughed。　　Certainly　women　were　queer　creatures　always　doing　what　one　didn't　expect。　　Still；　in　the　end　well；　a　sensible　woman　knew　a　good　chance　to　marry　and　took　it。　　There　was　no　doubt　a　good　deal　of　pretense　in　Mildred's　delicacy　as　to　money　mattersbut　a　devilish　creditable　sort　of　pretense。　　He　liked　the　ladylike；　‘‘nice''　pretenses；　of　women　of　the　right　sort　liked　them　when　they　fooled　him；　liked　them　when　they　only　half　fooled　him。

Presently　he　knocked　on　the　door　of　the　little　library；　opened　it　when　permission　came　in　Cyrilla's　voice。　　She　was　reading　the　evening　paperhe　did　not　see　the　glasses　she　hastily　thrust　into　a　drawer。　　In　that　soft　light　she　looked　a　scant　thirty；　handsome；　but　for　his　taste　too　intellectual　of　type　to　be　attractiveexcept　as　a　friend。

‘‘Well；''　said　he；　as　he　lit　a　cigarette　and　dropped　the　match　into　the　big　copper　ash…bowl；　‘‘I'll　bet　you　can't　guess　what　I've　been　up　to。''

‘‘Making　love　to　Miss　Stevens；''　replied　she。　　‘‘And　very　foolish　it　is　of　you。　　She's　got　a　steady　head　in　that　way。''

‘‘You're　mighty　right；''　said　he　heartily。　　‘‘And　I　admire　her　for　that　more　than　for　anything　else。　　I'd　trust　her　anywhere。''

‘‘You're　paying　yourself　a　high　compliment；''　laughed　Cyrilla。

‘‘How's　that？''　inquired　he。　　‘‘You're　too　subtle　for　me。　　I'm　a　bit　slow。''

Mrs。　Brindley　decided　against　explaining。　　It　was　not　wise　to　risk　raising　an　unjust　doubt　in　the　mind　of　a　man　who　fancied　that　a　woman　who　resisted　him　would　be　adamant　to　every　other　man。　　‘‘Then　I've　got　to　guess　again？''　said　she。

‘‘I've　been　asking　her　to　marry　me；''　said　Stanley；　who　could　contain　it　no　longer。　　‘‘Mrs。　B。　was　released　from　me　to…day　by　the　court　in　Providence。''

‘‘But　SHE'S　not　free；''　said　Cyrilla；　a　little　severely。

Stanley　looked　confused；　finally　said：　　‘‘Yes；　she　is。　It's　a　queer　story。　　Don't　say　anything。　　I　can't　explain。　　I　know　I　can　trust　you　to　keep　a　close　mouth。''

‘‘Minding　my　own　business　is　my　one　supreme　talent；''　said　Cyrilla。

‘‘She　hasn't　accepted　mein　so　many　words；''　pursued　Baird；　‘‘but　I've　hopes　that　it'll　come　out　all　right。''

‘‘Naturally；''　commented　Cyrilla　dryly。

‘‘I　know　I'm　notnot　objectionable　to　her。　　And　how　I　do　love　her！''　　He　settled　himself　at　his　ease。　‘‘I　can't　believe　it's　really　me。　　I　never　thought　I'd　marryjust　for　love。　　Did　you？''

‘‘You're　very　self…indulgent；''　said　Cyrilla。

‘‘You　mean　I'm　marrying　her　because　I　can't　get　her　any　other　way。　　There's　where　you're　wrong；　Mrs。　Brindley。　　I'm　marrying　her　because　I　don't　want　her　any　other　way。　　That's　why　I　know　it's　love。　　I　didn't　think　I　was　capable　of　it。　　Of　course；　I've　been　rather　strong　after　the　ladies　all　my　life。　　You　know　how　it　is　with　men。''

‘‘I　do；''　said　Mrs。　Brindley。

‘‘No；　you　don't　either；''　retorted　he。　　‘‘You're　one　of　those　cold；　stand…me…off　women　who　can't　comprehend　the　nature　of　man。''

‘‘As　you　please；''　said　she。　　In　her　eyes　there　was　a　gleam　that　more　than　suggested　a　possibility　of　some　mansome　man　she　might　fancyseeing　an　amazingly　different　Cyrilla　Brindley。

‘‘I　may　say　I　was　daft　about　pretty　women；''　continued　Baird。　　‘‘I　never　read　an　item　about　a　pretty　woman　in　the　papers；　or　saw　a　picture　of　a　pretty　woman　that　I　didn't　wish　I　knew　herwell。　　Can　you　imagine　that？''　laughed　he。

‘‘Commonplace；''　said　Cyrilla。　　‘‘All　men　are　so。　That's　why　the　papers　always　describe　the　woman　as　pretty　and　why　the　pictures　are　published。''

‘‘Really？　　Yes；　I　suppose　so。''　　Baird　looked　chagrined。　　‘‘Anyhow；　here　I　am；　all　for　one　woman。　And　why？　　I　can't　explain　it　to　myself。　　She's　pretty；　lovely；　entrancing　sometimes。　　She　has　charm；　grace；　sweetness。　　She　dresses　well　and　carries　herself　with　a　kind　of　sweet　haughtiness。　　She　looks　as　if　she　knew　a　lotand　nothing　bad。　　Do　you　know；　I　can't　imagine　her　having　been　married　to　that　beast！　　I've　tried　to　imagine　it。　　I　simply　can't。''

‘‘I　shouldn't　try　if　I　were　you；''　said　Mrs。　Brindley。

‘‘But　I　was　talking　about　why　I　love　her。　　Does　this　bore　you？''

‘‘A　little；''　laughed　Cyrilla。　　‘‘I'd　rather　hear　some　man　talking　about　MY　charms。　　But　go　on。　　You　are　amusing；　in　a　way。''

‘‘I'll　wager　I　am。　　You　never　thought　I'd　be　caught？　I　believed　I　was　immunevaccinated　against　it。　I　thought　I　knew　all　the　tricks　and　turns　of　the　sex。　Yet　here　I　am！''

‘‘What　do　you　think　caught　you？''

‘‘That's　the　mystery。　　It's　simply　that　I　can't　do　without　her。　　Everything　she　looks　and　says　and　does　interests　me　more　than　anything　else　in　the　world。　　And　when　I'm　not　with　her　I'm　wishing　I　were　and　wondering　how　she's　looking　or　what　she's　saying　or　doing。　　You　don't　think　she'll　refuse　me？''　　This　last　with　real　anxiety。

‘‘I　haven't　an　idea；''　replied　Mrs。　Brindley。　　‘‘She's　peculiar。　　In　some　moods　she　would。　　In　others；　she　couldn't。　　And　I've　never　been　able　to　settle　to　my　satisfaction　which　kind　of　mood　was　the　real　Mary　Stevens。''

‘‘She　IS　queer；　isn't　she？''　said　Stanley　thoughtfully。　‘‘But　I've　told　her　she'd　be　free　to　go　on　with　the　career。　Fact　is；　I　want　her　to　do　it。''

Mrs。　Brindley's　eyes　twinkled。　　‘‘You　think　it　would　justify　you　to　your　set　in　marrying　her；　if　she　made　a　great　hit？''

Stanley　blushed　ingenuously。　　‘‘I'll　not　deny　that　has　something　to　do　with　it；''　he　admitted。　　‘‘And　why　not？''

‘‘Why　not；　indeed？''　said　she。　　‘‘But；　after　she　had　made　the　hit；　you'd　want　her　to　quit　the　stage　and　take　her　place　in　society。　　Isn't　that　so？''

‘‘You　ARE　a　keen　one；''　exclaimed　he　admiringly。　‘‘But　I　didn't　say　that　to　her。　　And　you　won't；　will　you？''

‘‘It's　hardly　necessary　to　ask　that；''　said　Mrs。　Brindley。　　‘‘Now；　suppose　　You　don't　mind　my　talking　about　this？''

‘‘What　I　want；''　replied　he。　　‘‘I　can't　talk　or　think　anything　but　her。''

‘‘Now；　suppose　she　shouldn't　make　a　hit。　　Suppose　she　should　failshould　not　develop　reliable　voice　enough？''

Stanley　looked　frightened。　　‘‘But　she　can't　fail；''　he　cried　with　over…energy。　　‘‘There's　no　question　about　her　voice。''

‘‘I　understand；''　Mrs。　Brindley　hastened　to　say。　　‘‘I　was　simply　making　conversation　with　her　as　the　subject。''

‘‘Oh；　I　see。''　　Stanley　settled　back。

‘‘Suppose　she　should　prove　not　to　be　a　great　artist　what　then？''　persisted　Cyrilla；　who　was　deeply　interested　in　the　intricate　obscure　problem　of　what　people　really　thought　as　distinguished　from　what　they　professed　and　also　from　what　they　imagined　they　thought。

‘‘The　fact　that　she's　a　great　artistthat's　part　of　her；''　said　Baird。　　‘‘If　she　weren't　a　great　singer；　she　wouldn't　be　shedon't　you　see？''

‘‘Yes；　I　see；''　said　Mrs。　Brindley　with　an　ironic　sadness　which　she　indulged　openly　because　there　was　no　danger　of　his　understanding。

‘‘I　don't　exactly　love　her　because　she　amounts　to　a　lotor　is　sure　to；''　pursued　he；　vaguely　dissatisfied　with　himself。　　‘‘It's　just　as　she　doesn't　care　for　me　because　I've　got　the　means　to　take　care　of　her　right；　yet　that's　part　of　meand　she'd　not　be　able　to　marry　me　if　I　hadn't。　　Don't　you　see？''

‘‘Yes；　I　see；''　said　Mrs。　Brindley　with　more　irony　and　less　sadness。　　‘‘There's　always　SOME　reason　beside　love。''

‘‘I'd　say　there's　always　some　reason　FOR　love；''　said　Baird；　and　he　felt　that　he　had　said　something　brilliant　as　is　the　habit　of　people　of　sluggish　mentality　when　they　say　a　thing　they　do　not　themselves　understand。　‘‘You　don't　doubt　that　I　love　her？''　he　went　on。　　‘‘Why　should　I　ask　her　to　marry　me　if　I　didn't？''

‘‘I　suppose　that　settles　it；''　said　Cyrilla。

‘‘Of　course　it　does；''　declared　he。

For　an　hour　he　sat　there；　talking　on；　most　of　it　a　pretty　dull　kind　of　drivel。　　Mrs。　Brindley　listened　patiently；　because　she　liked　him　and　because　she　had　nothing　else　to　do　until　bedtime。　　At　last　he　rose　with　a　long　sigh　and　said：

‘‘I　guess　I　might　as　well　be　going。''

‘‘She'll　not　come　in　to…night　again；''　said　Cyrilla　slyly。

He　laughed。　　‘‘You　are　a　good　one。　　I'll　own　up；　I've　been　staying　on　partly　in　the　hope　that　she'd　come　back。　　But　it's　been　a　great　joy　to　talk　to　you　about　her。　　I　know　you　love　her；　too。''

‘‘Yes；　I'm　extremely　fond　of　her；''　said　she。　　‘‘I've　not　known　many　womenmany　people　without　petty　mean　tricks。　　She's　one。''

‘‘Isn't　she；　though？''　exclaimed　he。

‘‘I　don't　mean　she's　perfect；''　said　Mrs。　Brindley。　‘‘I　don't　even　mean　that　she's　as　angelic　as　you　think　her。　　I'd　not　like　her；　if　she　were。　　But　she's　a　superior　kind　of　human。''

She　was　tired　of　him　now；　and　got　him　out　speedily。　As　she　closed　the　front　door　upon　him；　Mildred's　door；　down　the　hall；　opened。　　Her　head　appeared；　an　inquiring　look　upon　her　face。　　Mrs。　Brindley　nodded。　　Mil…　dred；　her　hair　done　close　to　her　head；　a　dressing…robe　over　her　nightgown　and　her　bare　feet　in　little　slippers；　came　down　the　hall。　　She　coiled　herself　up　in　a　big　chair　in　the　library　and　lit　a　cigarette。　　She　looked　like　a　handsome　young　boy。

‘‘He　told　you？''　she　said　to　Mrs。　Brindley。

‘‘Yes；''　replied　Cyrilla。

Silence。　　In　all　their　intimate　acquaintance　there　had　never　been　an　approach　to　the　confidential　on　either　side。　　It　was　Cyrilla's　notion　that　confidences　were　a　mistake；　and　that　the　more　closely　people　were　thrown　together　the　more　resolutely　they　ought　to　keep　certain　barriers　between　them。　　She　and　Mildred　got　on　too　admirably；　liked　each　other　too　well；　for　there　to　be　any　trifling　with　their　relationsand　over…intimacy　inevitably　led　to　trifling。　　Mi