Nevertheless, there were times, necessarily, when a writer wished that he had no relative and secretary at all; and this, in a word, was one of them. Charles did not wish, to-night, to go over and over one set of primitive facts indefinitely; he did not wish to listen to sporting anecdote and reminiscence, hour after hour; in chief, he did not wish to go to bed at half-past ten o"clock. However, he did each and all of these things, perforce.
"Always retire early after a fight!--that was my father"s rule, long as he lived!" cried Uncle George, his black eyes dangerously bright....
"No--let"s see. _Before_ a fight--that was father"s way! Well, good gad!--too late for that now! You come along to bed, my dear fellow!..."
But, in time, a sweet snoring from the parallel white couch indicated freedom, welcome solitude, at last. And then the young man rose noiselessly in the dark, and slipped back to the familiar Studio, where all his personal life had so long had its heart and center. On the old writing-table, in front of which he had sat and pondered so many hours, so many nights, the green-domed lamp was set burning anew. However, Charles did not sit at his table now. Beside the lamp, Big Bill without surcease ticked off the flying minutes of a writer"s prized leisure. But Charles heeded not Big Bill. Wrapped in a bathrobe grown too short for his long shanks, he paced his carpet on slippered feet, up and down; and there was no such thing as bedtime now. For this day the authority had made the last and the best of all his many discoveries about Woman: and he did not see how he could ever sleep again.
XXIV
Luemma, the twelve-dollar cook, had never dreamed of having opera-gla.s.ses of her own; hence she looked pleased, for once in her life, when her departing young mistress unexpectedly presented her with a pair: old and somewhat shabby, doubtless, but still possessing the valuable power of bringing distant objects near. And it must be a.s.sumed that the nice man who sold the gasoline was equally glad to have the Fordette for his own: else he would probably not have fattened up the trousseau, one day, by purchasing the interesting little vehicle (cheap) for cash.
Because of mourning in the bride"s family, the Flower-Manford nuptials would be "very quiet." Invitations were strictly limited to near relatives of the contracting parties, with a very few of the most intimate friends. So the social columns of the "Post" had warned and notified all persons in due season. However, Charles Garrott, reading, was not cast down. As the groom"s chosen supporter in his "most need,"
Charles had had his fixed place from the beginning.
Further, he considered himself fully ent.i.tled to be present in the category of intimate friends, not to mention his peculiar relation as one who had narrowly escaped a yet closer privilege in the premises.
Angela"s was an afternoon wedding: the hour of "taking place," five o"clock. At four o"clock on the set day, Charles prematurely snapped his tutorial watch at Miss Grace (who was still waiting), and rushed away to his rooms. At half-past four, after scenes of wild haste, he stood out in the Studio, for final inspection. He was arrayed in what the Britons like to call a "morning coat": a morning coat new-pressed by Judge Blenso"s skillful hand and patent iron, made glorious by Judge Blenso"s best new waistcoat, especially urged for the occasion. Now the admiring secretary pinned a white carnation in the morning-coat lapel, as excited over it all, oddly enough, as if the wedding afoot were his young employer"s own. So dismissed with a blessing, Charles jumped into a taxicab, at four thirty-five precisely, and shot away to the Bellingham.
Here, in a bedroom upstairs, a brief delay occurred, owing to the appearance and behavior of the bridegroom. The face that Donald, in his regalia, turned upon his best man, bursting in, was seen to be a pale green in color; his voice and speech were highly erratic, his attempt at a brave smile a sight to rend one"s heart. On this pitiful funk, Charles"s gibes, his appeals to the higher nature, had but small effect.
"Here"s the ring," said the groom, with a sick croak. "Charlie, hadn"t I better take one little drink?"
However, the cab was swift. The drive to Center Street was but a matter of five minutes. Once more the two young men were stepping, side by side, up the worn brick walkway. It made Charles think of the day they had come to return the books. But this time the line of vehicles before the weather-beaten door was conclusive testimony to the triumphant activity within.
In the hall, a lady greeted them, a near relative doubtless. A dim pleased significant hush seemed to emanate from the lady, and pervade the house. From behind the dark curtains of the parlor, there proceeded the murmur of a.s.sembled persons, waiting. Even the hatstand, though essentially unchanged, somehow conveyed a mysterious expectancy.
They were sent aloft to an upper chamber, conceived to be Wallie"s. Here they were instructed to wait quietly till somebody had need of them.
The waiting was rather trying. Tete-a-tete in the small bare room, groom and attendant talked but fitfully. Donald seemed to have drawn little courage from his dram. He sat stiffly on a chair-edge, jumping at each peal of the loud little bell below. Much more unreasonably, the best man showed signs of nervousness, too: it was observed that he had cut himself twice while shaving. And suddenly, jerking out his watch, he announced that probably he had better step out for a minute--reconnoiter--see what he could see.
"They ought to want you now, seems to me," quoth he. "I"ll see. You sit tight, right there."
"Awright," croaked Donald.
So Charles stepped out from the nuptial waiting-room, and closed the door behind him. Having done this, he came to a standstill, abruptly: for here, in the Flowers" still upstairs hall, he beheld just the sight he had gone forth to seek.
At the other end of the hall, in the dimness, stood the bride"s attendant, Cousin Mary Wing. She, too, had just come out of a door, it seemed; she, too, had stopped and was gazing. And the first look of the blue eyes, over the s.p.a.ce, released in him, the old helper with his secret help, a vast content; just touched with a subtle sadness that such a little gain could mean so much to her now.
He moved toward her in the expectant quiet....
Doubtless, it was no small thing that Mr. Mysinger had kept, more or less, that promise he had made under threat and duress; marvel enough that he had, in fact, "personally requested" Mr. Senff to "see what could be done," etc., as agreed. Surely the whole matter had been fuller of openings for double-dealing than an egg was of meat. And yet, to Charles, the upshot of all the hoping and planning had been a cruel disappointment. For Life, alas, still differs from Romance, realities still refuse to fade like a dream, at just the suitable moment. In brief, the School Board, by a majority of one, had yesterday ruled that Mary should have her reappointment to the High School staff, "as soon as arrangements would permit"; but of the a.s.sistant princ.i.p.al"s office no word was said.
To one who had voluntarily surrendered her great promotion, this seemed but a scanty recompense. And as for the new plan, his and Hazen"s, concerning the a.s.sistant Superintendency of Schools next year--no less--("There"s really a good chance, now that the Mysinger bunch are showing a better spirit," said Hazen)--that was much too remote to seem very substantial just now....
In the dark upstairs hall, the friends greeted briefly, in voices scarcely above a whisper. Mary said hurriedly: "Donald"s here? Angela"ll be ready to see him in just a second."
"I"ll produce him--dead or alive."
The best man laid his hand on the banister. But his subconsciousness warned him that the banisters were dusty, and he took his hand away.
"You look happy to-day."
"Yes--shouldn"t I be? Weren"t you--pleased, when you read--"
"They"ve treated you abominably--no other way to express it."
She smiled at him, but looked away. And he perceived, or thought he did, that the memory of their last meeting remained with her, touching her manner with a faint self-consciousness.
"You are hard to satisfy," she said. "I"ve felt like singing all day....
Will you tell Donald to come now?"
"Yes. I"m going to see you after this is over?"
But no, she, the busy, was to stay here for the night, it seemed, keeping Mrs. Flower company in her daughterlessness. And Charles, having antic.i.p.ated this occasion princ.i.p.ally as her holiday-time and his own, turned away with the sense that most of the wedding was over....
Yet this, of course, was but the side-play of elders, counting for nothing. Now the prime action of the day, the culminating hour, was at hand.
Donald was whisked away for a brief glimpse at his love. Returning, he confronted almost immediately the moment of his public appearance and confession. Word came to Wallie"s room that the gentlemen were to descend forthwith, for better or worse. "Now then!" whispered Charles, as they started down--"chest out, chin up!" And Donald grinned back feebly, as if to prove to himself that he still could. Now the dim hush deepened and thickened, the little house seemed to hold its breath.
There was no music to cover these preliminaries, because of the mourning. In complete stillness, groom and escort stepped through the curtains into the a.s.sembled company, which, though limited in numbers as it was, seemed to fill the little car-shaped parlor. Through a narrow lane between vaguely discerned relatives and friends, the young men moved to their appointed place. Here they stood, almost stepping on a stout clergyman, undergoing his frank, interested scrutiny, through a dreadful pause. Then at last a stir in the company made it clear that the bride was at hand; and after that Donald could feel that n.o.body was paying any attention to him.
So without great pomp or ritual, fuss or feathers, came the great moment to which all one woman"s life had looked forward, to which, conceivably, it might all look back. Standing statue-like a few feet from her, the fingers of one hand feeling in Judge Blenso"s waistcoat-pocket for the ring, those of the other resting lightly on the cold Latrobe, Charles listened to the beautiful words which converted Angela Flower into Mrs.
Donald Manford.
Angela "was married in a traveling-suit." She was a little pale, like her lord and master; her responses were just audible. And never had Charles seen her look so maidenly sweet, so feminine and engaging and desirable. Her soft and pretty face, yet unbroken by a line, was immensely serious. Her look into the beyond was faintly wistful, a little awed, supremely innocent. A wonder dawned in the great dark eyes.
Here girlhood ended: in great happiness, doubtless, yet in great mysteries too. Here came change, so colossal that no man could ever know change in these terms. Where led this unknown parting of the ways, what was the heart and meaning of Life?
And Mary Wing"s face, glimpsed once or twice over the bride"s shoulder, was surprised wearing much the same look too. No woman, perhaps, even a fighting educator, listens quite unmoved to these old words. Sweetly pensive, Mary gazed at her so different cousin. And Charles wondered if she had got quite philosophical now, and wished that she had something much bigger to feel like singing about to-day....
"I p.r.o.nounce you _mon_ and wife," cried the parson: and it was not the first thing he had p.r.o.nounced loudly, either.
So came relaxation from the solemn stiffness. There was a flutter of movement, human speech again, the swift embrace of bride and bride"s mother. Then speech became free and general, and the near relatives rushed upon the happy pair.
Charles, having wrung Donald"s hand in the approved manner, had his due turn before the center of the visible world. It was the first time he had seen Angela, to speak to, since the day of the party-call. But, though she was naturally a little nervous and staccato in the circ.u.mstances, he considered that she received his felicitations with dignity and graciousness.
"Donald and I appreciated your gift so much. I hope you got my note? It was perfectly lovely. We shall think of you whenever we use it."
Interesting, indeed, it was to Charles to see these pretty eyes, that he had once caused to weep, resting upon him with this genuine bright restless indifference.
"When you"re in New York, you must be sure to let us know. Donald and I will always be so glad to see you. I hope we"ll have a guest-room, and then you must come to stay with us. I do hope you will have better luck with your stories, Mr. Garrott. I"ll be watching for you in the magazines--remember! How do you do, Cousin Annie? Donald and I appreciated your gift so much ..."
So Charles Garrott pa.s.sed on, a bachelor still, still thinking about his "story."
In the "small reception following"--to quote the "Post" again--Charles did what he could to make the affair a success, circulating about like a valued member of the family, speaking winningly to old ladies whom he did not know, heartening the timid with cake and wine. His own best moments in the reception were short talks with two Flowers, brothers of the bride. But Wallie, the chemist and lamp-repairer,--so it was now written on the stars,--was down for his Easter vacation only: he was returning to college next week. "The Wings want mother to visit them, till I come back in June," he let fall, with truly masculine unconsciousness; and felt no irony in his sister"s impending departure to lead her own life, while Mary Wing, staying at home, took care of her mother.
As for the older brother, the wealthy and generous Tommy, it seemed that he had run on all the way from Pittsburg for the express purpose of "giving Angela away." A handsome volatile little chap, Tommy proved to be, with a mustache, a manner, and a worried look in the corners of his eyes: and Charles, introduced, examined him with unaffected interest.
For Charles had often thought of Tommy, often wondered if Tommy might not be, at heart, a master humorist. Unluckily, that interesting point was never settled, the acquaintance being cut short untimely by the general movement toward the hall.
The embarkation of Mr. and Mrs. Manford was "very quiet." There was no hurling of old slippers, no unseemly merriment. They came down the narrow stairs amid a little rice, a last subdued chorus of farewells.