"Your FRIENDS, Lily--how can you think it?"
"Who are one"s friends at such a time? Who, but you, you poor trustful darling? And heaven knows what YOU suspect me of!" She kissed Gerty with a whimsical murmur. "You"d never let it make any difference--but then you"re fond of criminals, Gerty! How about the irreclaimable ones, though? For I"m absolutely impenitent, you know."
She drew herself up to the full height of her slender majesty, towering like some dark angel of defiance above the troubled Gerty, who could only falter out: "Lily, Lily--how can you laugh about such things?"
"So as not to weep, perhaps. But no--I"m not of the tearful order. I discovered early that crying makes my nose red, and the knowledge has helped me through several painful episodes." She took a restless turn about the room, and then, reseating herself, lifted the bright mockery of her eyes to Gerty"s anxious countenance.
"I shouldn"t have minded, you know, if I"d got the money--" and at Miss Farish"s protesting "Oh!" she repeated calmly: "Not a straw, my dear; for, in the first place, they wouldn"t have quite dared to ignore me; and if they had, it wouldn"t have mattered, because I should have been independent of them. But now--!" The irony faded from her eyes, and she bent a clouded face upon her friend.
"How can you talk so, Lily? Of course the money ought to have been yours, but after all that makes no difference. The important thing----" Gerty paused, and then continued firmly: "The important thing is that you should clear yourself--should tell your friends the whole truth."
"The whole truth?" Miss Bart laughed. "What is truth? Where a woman is concerned, it"s the story that"s easiest to believe. In this case it"s a great deal easier to believe Bertha Dorset"s story than mine, because she has a big house and an opera box, and it"s convenient to be on good terms with her."
Miss Farish still fixed her with an anxious gaze. "But what IS your story, Lily? I don"t believe any one knows it yet."
"My story?--I don"t believe I know it myself. You see I never thought of preparing a version in advance as Bertha did--and if I had, I don"t think I should take the trouble to use it now."
But Gerty continued with her quiet reasonableness: "I don"t want a version prepared in advance--but I want you to tell me exactly what happened from the beginning."
"From the beginning?" Miss Bart gently mimicked her. "Dear Gerty, how little imagination you good people have! Why, the beginning was in my cradle, I suppose--in the way I was brought up, and the things I was taught to care for. Or no--I won"t blame anybody for my faults: I"ll say it was in my blood, that I got it from some wicked pleasure-loving ancestress, who reacted against the homely virtues of New Amsterdam, and wanted to be back at the court of the Charleses!" And as Miss Farish continued to press her with troubled eyes, she went on impatiently: "You asked me just now for the truth--well, the truth about any girl is that once she"s talked about she"s done for; and the more she explains her case the worse it looks.--My good Gerty, you don"t happen to have a cigarette about you?"
In her stuffy room at the hotel to which she had gone on landing, Lily Bart that evening reviewed her situation. It was the last week in June, and none of her friends were in town. The few relatives who had stayed on, or returned, for the reading of Mrs. p.e.n.i.ston"s will, had taken flight again that afternoon to Newport or Long Island; and not one of them had made any proffer of hospitality to Lily. For the first time in her life she found herself utterly alone except for Gerty Farish. Even at the actual moment of her break with the Dorsets she had not had so keen a sense of its consequences, for the d.u.c.h.ess of Beltshire, hearing of the catastrophe from Lord Hubert, had instantly offered her protection, and under her sheltering wing Lily had made an almost triumphant progress to London. There she had been sorely tempted to linger on in a society which asked of her only to amuse and charm it, without enquiring too curiously how she had acquired her gift for doing so; but Selden, before they parted, had pressed on her the urgent need of returning at once to her aunt, and Lord Hubert, when he presently reappeared in London, abounded in the same counsel. Lily did not need to be told that the d.u.c.h.ess"s championship was not the best road to social rehabilitation, and as she was besides aware that her n.o.ble defender might at any moment drop her in favour of a new PROTEGEE, she reluctantly decided to return to America.
But she had not been ten minutes on her native sh.o.r.e before she realized that she had delayed too long to regain it. The Dorsets, the Stepneys, the Brys--all the actors and witnesses in the miserable drama--had preceded her with their version of the case; and, even had she seen the least chance of gaining a hearing for her own, some obscure disdain and reluctance would have restrained her. She knew it was not by explanations and counter-charges that she could ever hope to recover her lost standing; but even had she felt the least trust in their efficacy, she would still have been held back by the feeling which had kept her from defending herself to Gerty Farish--a feeling that was half pride and half humiliation. For though she knew she had been ruthlessly sacrificed to Bertha Dorset"s determination to win back her husband, and though her own relation to Dorset had been that of the merest good-fellowship, yet she had been perfectly aware from the outset that her part in the affair was, as Carry Fisher brutally put it, to distract Dorset"s attention from his wife. That was what she was "there for": it was the price she had chosen to pay for three months of luxury and freedom from care. Her habit of resolutely facing the facts, in her rare moments of introspection, did not now allow her to put any false gloss on the situation. She had suffered for the very faithfulness with which she had carried out her part of the tacit compact, but the part was not a handsome one at best, and she saw it now in all the ugliness of failure.
She saw, too, in the same uncompromising light, the train of consequences resulting from that failure; and these became clearer to her with every day of her weary lingering in town. She stayed on partly for the comfort of Gerty Farish"s nearness, and partly for lack of knowing where to go.
She understood well enough the nature of the task before her. She must set out to regain, little by little, the position she had lost; and the first step in the tedious task was to find out, as soon as possible, on how many of her friends she could count. Her hopes were mainly centred on Mrs. Trenor, who had treasures of easy-going tolerance for those who were amusing or useful to her, and in the noisy rush of whose existence the still small voice of detraction was slow to make itself heard. But Judy, though she must have been apprised of Miss Bart"s return, had not even recognized it by the formal note of condolence which her friend"s bereavement demanded. Any advance on Lily"s side might have been perilous: there was nothing to do but to trust to the happy chance of an accidental meeting, and Lily knew that, even so late in the season, there was always a hope of running across her friends in their frequent pa.s.sages through town.
To this end she a.s.siduously showed herself at the restaurants they frequented, where, attended by the troubled Gerty, she lunched luxuriously, as she said, on her expectations.
"My dear Gerty, you wouldn"t have me let the head-waiter see that I"ve nothing to live on but Aunt Julia"s legacy? Think of Grace Stepney"s satisfaction if she came in and found us lunching on cold mutton and tea!
What sweet shall we have today, dear--COUPE JACQUES or PECHES A LA MELBA?"
She dropped the MENU abruptly, with a quick heightening of colour, and Gerty, following her glance, was aware of the advance, from an inner room, of a party headed by Mrs. Trenor and Carry Fisher. It was impossible for these ladies and their companions--among whom Lily had at once distinguished both Trenor and Rosedale--not to pa.s.s, in going out, the table at which the two girls were seated; and Gerty"s sense of the fact betrayed itself in the helpless trepidation of her manner. Miss Bart, on the contrary, borne forward on the wave of her buoyant grace, and neither shrinking from her friends nor appearing to lie in wait for them, gave to the encounter the touch of naturalness which she could impart to the most strained situations. Such embarra.s.sment as was shown was on Mrs. Trenor"s side, and manifested itself in the mingling of exaggerated warmth with imperceptible reservations. Her loudly affirmed pleasure at seeing Miss Bart took the form of a nebulous generalization, which included neither enquiries as to her future nor the expression of a definite wish to see her again. Lily, well-versed in the language of these omissions, knew that they were equally intelligible to the other members of the party: even Rosedale, flushed as he was with the importance of keeping such company, at once took the temperature of Mrs.
Trenor"s cordiality, and reflected it in his off-hand greeting of Miss Bart. Trenor, red and uncomfortable, had cut short his salutations on the pretext of a word to say to the head-waiter; and the rest of the group soon melted away in Mrs. Trenor"s wake.
It was over in a moment--the waiter, MENU in hand, still hung on the result of the choice between COUPE JACQUES and PECHES A LA MELBA--but Miss Bart, in the interval, had taken the measure of her fate. Where Judy Trenor led, all the world would follow; and Lily had the doomed sense of the castaway who has signalled in vain to fleeing sails.
In a flash she remembered Mrs. Trenor"s complaints of Carry Fisher"s rapacity, and saw that they denoted an unexpected acquaintance with her husband"s private affairs. In the large tumultuous disorder of the life at Bellomont, where no one seemed to have time to observe any one else, and private aims and personal interests were swept along unheeded in the rush of collective activities, Lily had fancied herself sheltered from inconvenient scrutiny; but if Judy knew when Mrs. Fisher borrowed money of her husband, was she likely to ignore the same transaction on Lily"s part? If she was careless of his affections she was plainly jealous of his pocket; and in that fact Lily read the explanation of her rebuff. The immediate result of these conclusions was the pa.s.sionate resolve to pay back her debt to Trenor. That obligation discharged, she would have but a thousand dollars of Mrs. p.e.n.i.ston"s legacy left, and nothing to live on but her own small income, which was considerably less than Gerty Farish"s wretched pittance; but this consideration gave way to the imperative claim of her wounded pride. She must be quits with the Trenors first; after that she would take thought for the future.
In her ignorance of legal procrastinations she had supposed that her legacy would be paid over within a few days of the reading of her aunt"s will; and after an interval of anxious suspense, she wrote to enquire the cause of the delay. There was another interval before Mrs. p.e.n.i.ston"s lawyer, who was also one of the executors, replied to the effect that, some questions having arisen relative to the interpretation of the will, he and his a.s.sociates might not be in a position to pay the legacies till the close of the twelvemonth legally allotted for their settlement.
Bewildered and indignant, Lily resolved to try the effect of a personal appeal; but she returned from her expedition with a sense of the powerlessness of beauty and charm against the unfeeling processes of the law. It seemed intolerable to live on for another year under the weight of her debt; and in her extremity she decided to turn to Miss Stepney, who still lingered in town, immersed in the delectable duty of "going over" her benefactress"s effects. It was bitter enough for Lily to ask a favour of Grace Stepney, but the alternative was bitterer still; and one morning she presented herself at Mrs. p.e.n.i.ston"s, where Grace, for the facilitation of her pious task, had taken up a provisional abode.
The strangeness of entering as a suppliant the house where she had so long commanded, increased Lily"s desire to shorten the ordeal; and when Miss Stepney entered the darkened drawing-room, rustling with the best quality of c.r.a.pe, her visitor went straight to the point: would she be willing to advance the amount of the expected legacy?
Grace, in reply, wept and wondered at the request, bemoaned the inexorableness of the law, and was astonished that Lily had not realized the exact similarity of their positions. Did she think that only the payment of the legacies had been delayed? Why, Miss Stepney herself had not received a penny of her inheritance, and was paying rent--yes, actually!--for the privilege of living in a house that belonged to her.
She was sure it was not what poor dear cousin Julia would have wished--she had told the executors so to their faces; but they were inaccessible to reason, and there was nothing to do but to wait. Let Lily take example by her, and be patient--let them both remember how beautifully patient cousin Julia had always been.
Lily made a movement which showed her imperfect a.s.similation of this example. "But you will have everything, Grace--it would be easy for you to borrow ten times the amount I am asking for."
"Borrow--easy for me to borrow?" Grace Stepney rose up before her in sable wrath. "Do you imagine for a moment that I would raise money on my expectations from cousin Julia, when I know so well her unspeakable horror of every transaction of the sort? Why, Lily, if you must know the truth, it was the idea of your being in debt that brought on her illness--you remember she had a slight attack before you sailed. Oh, I don"t know the particulars, of course--I don"t WANT to know them--but there were rumours about your affairs that made her most unhappy--no one could be with her without seeing that. I can"t help it if you are offended by my telling you this now--if I can do anything to make you realize the folly of your course, and how deeply SHE disapproved of it, I shall feel it is the truest way of making up to you for her loss."
Chapter 5
It seemed to Lily, as Mrs. p.e.n.i.ston"s door closed on her, that she was taking a final leave of her old life. The future stretched before her dull and bare as the deserted length of Fifth Avenue, and opportunities showed as meagrely as the few cabs trailing in quest of fares that did not come. The completeness of the a.n.a.logy was, however, disturbed as she reached the sidewalk by the rapid approach of a hansom which pulled up at sight of her.
From beneath its luggage-laden top, she caught the wave of a signalling hand; and the next moment Mrs. Fisher, springing to the street, had folded her in a demonstrative embrace.
"My dear, you don"t mean to say you"re still in town? When I saw you the other day at Sherry"s I didn"t have time to ask----" She broke off, and added with a burst of frankness: "The truth is I was HORRID, Lily, and I"ve wanted to tell you so ever since."
"Oh----" Miss Bart protested, drawing back from her penitent clasp; but Mrs. Fisher went on with her usual directness: "Look here, Lily, don"t let"s beat about the bush: half the trouble in life is caused by pretending there isn"t any. That"s not my way, and I can only say I"m thoroughly ashamed of myself for following the other women"s lead. But we"ll talk of that by and bye--tell me now where you"re staying and what your plans are. I don"t suppose you"re keeping house in there with Grace Stepney, eh?--and it struck me you might be rather at loose ends."
In Lily"s present mood there was no resisting the honest friendliness of this appeal, and she said with a smile: "I am at loose ends for the moment, but Gerty Farish is still in town, and she"s good enough to let me be with her whenever she can spare the time."
Mrs. Fisher made a slight grimace. "H"m--that"s a temperate joy. Oh, I know--Gerty"s a trump, and worth all the rest of us put together; but A LA LONGUE you"re used to a little higher seasoning, aren"t you, dear?
And besides, I suppose she"ll be off herself before long--the first of August, you say? Well, look here, you can"t spend your summer in town; we"ll talk of that later too. But meanwhile, what do you say to putting a few things in a trunk and coming down with me to the Sam Gormers"
tonight?"
And as Lily stared at the breathless suddenness of the suggestion, she continued with her easy laugh: "You don"t know them and they don"t know you; but that don"t make a rap of difference. They"ve taken the Van Alstyne place at Roslyn, and I"ve got CARTE BLANCHE to bring my friends down there--the more the merrier. They do things awfully well, and there"s to be rather a jolly party there this week----" she broke off, checked by an undefinable change in Miss Bart"s expression. "Oh, I don"t mean YOUR particular set, you know: rather a different crowd, but very good fun. The fact is, the Gormers have struck out on a line of their own: what they want is to have a good time, and to have it in their own way. They gave the other thing a few months" trial, under my distinguished auspices, and they were really doing extremely well--getting on a good deal faster than the Brys, just because they didn"t care as much--but suddenly they decided that the whole business bored them, and that what they wanted was a crowd they could really feel at home with. Rather original of them, don"t you think so? Mattie Gormer HAS got aspirations still; women always have; but she"s awfully easy-going, and Sam won"t be bothered, and they both like to be the most important people in sight, so they"ve started a sort of continuous performance of their own, a kind of social Coney Island, where everybody is welcome who can make noise enough and doesn"t put on airs. I think it"s awfully good fun myself--some of the artistic set, you know, any pretty actress that"s going, and so on. This week, for instance, they have Audrey Anstell, who made such a hit last spring in "The Winning of Winny"; and Paul Morpeth--he"s painting Mattie Gormer--and the d.i.c.k Bellingers, and Kate Corby--well, every one you can think of who"s jolly and makes a row. Now don"t stand there with your nose in the air, my dear--it will be a good deal better than a broiling Sunday in town, and you"ll find clever people as well as noisy ones--Morpeth, who admires Mattie enormously, always brings one or two of his set."
Mrs. Fisher drew Lily toward the hansom with friendly authority. "Jump in now, there"s a dear, and we"ll drive round to your hotel and have your things packed, and then we"ll have tea, and the two maids can meet us at the train."
It was a good deal better than a broiling Sunday in town--of that no doubt remained to Lily as, reclining in the shade of a leafy verandah, she looked seaward across a stretch of greensward picturesquely dotted with groups of ladies in lace raiment and men in tennis flannels. The huge Van Alstyne house and its rambling dependencies were packed to their fullest capacity with the Gormers" week-end guests, who now, in the radiance of the Sunday forenoon, were dispersing themselves over the grounds in quest of the various distractions the place afforded: distractions ranging from tennis-courts to shooting-galleries, from bridge and whiskey within doors to motors and steam-launches without.
Lily had the odd sense of having been caught up into the crowd as carelessly as a pa.s.senger is gathered in by an express train. The blonde and genial Mrs. Gormer might, indeed, have figured the conductor, calmly a.s.signing seats to the rush of travellers, while Carry Fisher represented the porter pushing their bags into place, giving them their numbers for the dining-car, and warning them when their station was at hand. The train, meanwhile, had scarcely slackened speed--life whizzed on with a deafening" rattle and roar, in which one traveller at least found a welcome refuge from the sound of her own thoughts. The Gormer MILIEU represented a social out-skirt which Lily had always fastidiously avoided; but it struck her, now that she was in it, as only a flamboyant copy of her own world, a caricature approximating the real thing as the "society play" approaches the manners of the drawing-room. The people about her were doing the same things as the Trenors, the Van Osburghs and the Dorsets: the difference lay in a hundred shades of aspect and manner, from the pattern of the men"s waistcoats to the inflexion of the women"s voices. Everything was pitched in a higher key, and there was more of each thing: more noise, more colour, more champagne, more familiarity--but also greater good-nature, less rivalry, and a fresher capacity for enjoyment.
Miss Bart"s arrival had been welcomed with an uncritical friendliness that first irritated her pride and then brought her to a sharp sense of her own situation--of the place in life which, for the moment, she must accept and make the best of. These people knew her story--of that her first long talk with Carry Fisher had left no doubt: she was publicly branded as the heroine of a "queer" episode--but instead of shrinking from her as her own friends had done, they received her without question into the easy promiscuity of their lives. They swallowed her past as easily as they did Miss Anstell"s, and with no apparent sense of any difference in the size of the mouthful: all they asked was that she should--in her own way, for they recognized a diversity of gifts--contribute as much to the general amus.e.m.e.nt as that graceful actress, whose talents, when off the stage, were of the most varied order. Lily felt at once that any tendency to be "stuck-up," to mark a sense of differences and distinctions, would be fatal to her continuance in the Gormer set. To be taken in on such terms--and into such a world!--was hard enough to the lingering pride in her; but she realized, with a pang of self-contempt, that to be excluded from it would, after all, be harder still. For, almost at once, she had felt the insidious charm of slipping back into a life where every material difficulty was smoothed away. The sudden escape from a stifling hotel in a dusty deserted city to the s.p.a.ce and luxury of a great country-house fanned by sea breezes, had produced a state of moral la.s.situde agreeable enough after the nervous tension and physical discomfort of the past weeks. For the moment she must yield to the refreshment her senses craved--after that she would reconsider her situation, and take counsel with her dignity. Her enjoyment of her surroundings was, indeed, tinged by the unpleasant consideration that she was accepting the hospitality and courting the approval of people she had disdained under other conditions.
But she was growing less sensitive on such points: a hard glaze of indifference was fast forming over her delicacies and susceptibilities, and each concession to expediency hardened the surface a little more.
On the Monday, when the party disbanded with uproarious adieux, the return to town threw into stronger relief the charms of the life she was leaving. The other guests were dispersing to take up the same existence in a different setting: some at Newport, some at Bar Harbour, some in the elaborate rusticity of an Adirondack camp. Even Gerty Farish, who welcomed Lily"s return with tender solicitude, would soon be preparing to join the aunt with whom she spent her summers on Lake George: only Lily herself remained without plan or purpose, stranded in a backwater of the great current of pleasure. But Carry Fisher, who had insisted on transporting her to her own house, where she herself was to perch for a day or two on the way to the Brys" camp, came to the rescue with a new suggestion.
"Look here, Lily--I"ll tell you what it is: I want you to take my place with Mattie Gormer this summer. They"re taking a party out to Alaska next month in their private car, and Mattie, who is the laziest woman alive, wants me to go with them, and relieve her of the bother of arranging things; but the Brys want me too--oh, yes, we"ve made it up: didn"t I tell you?--and, to put it frankly, though I like the Gormers best, there"s more profit for me in the Brys. The fact is, they want to try Newport this summer, and if I can make it a success for them they--well, they"ll make it a success for me." Mrs. Fisher clasped her hands enthusiastically. "Do you know, Lily, the more I think of my idea the better I like it--quite as much for you as for myself. The Gormers have both taken a tremendous fancy to you, and the trip to Alaska is--well--the very thing I should want for you just at present."
Miss Bart lifted her eyes with a keen glance. "To take me out of my friends" way, you mean?" she said quietly; and Mrs. Fisher responded with a deprecating kiss: "To keep you out of their sight till they realize how much they miss you."
Miss Bart went with the Gormers to Alaska; and the expedition, if it did not produce the effect antic.i.p.ated by her friend, had at least the negative advantage of removing her from the fiery centre of criticism and discussion. Gerty Farish had opposed the plan with all the energy of her somewhat inarticulate nature. She had even offered to give up her visit to Lake George, and remain in town with Miss Bart, if the latter would renounce her journey; but Lily could disguise her real distaste for this plan under a sufficiently valid reason.
"You dear innocent, don"t you see," she protested, "that Carry is quite right, and that I must take up my usual life, and go about among people as much as possible? If my old friends choose to believe lies about me I shall have to make new ones, that"s all; and you know beggars mustn"t be choosers. Not that I don"t like Mattie Gormer--I DO like her: she"s kind and honest and unaffected; and don"t you suppose I feel grateful to her for making me welcome at a time when, as you"ve yourself seen, my own family have unanimously washed their hands of me?"
Gerty shook her head, mutely unconvinced. She felt not only that Lily was cheapening herself by making use of an intimacy she would never have cultivated from choice, but that, in drifting back now to her former manner of life, she was forfeiting her last chance of ever escaping from it. Gerty had but an obscure conception of what Lily"s actual experience had been: but its consequences had established a lasting hold on her pity since the memorable night when she had offered up her own secret hope to her friend"s extremity. To characters like Gerty"s such a sacrifice const.i.tutes a moral claim on the part of the person in whose behalf it has been made. Having once helped Lily, she must continue to help her; and helping her, must believe in her, because faith is the main-spring of such natures. But even if Miss Bart, after her renewed taste of the amenities of life, could have returned to the barrenness of a New York August, mitigated only by poor Gerty"s presence, her worldly wisdom would have counselled her against such an act of abnegation. She knew that Carry Fisher was right: that an opportune absence might be the first step toward rehabilitation, and that, at any rate, to linger on in town out of season was a fatal admission of defeat. From the Gormers" tumultuous progress across their native continent, she returned with an altered view of her situation. The renewed habit of luxury--the daily waking to an a.s.sured absence of care and presence of material ease--gradually blunted her appreciation of these values, and left her more conscious of the void they could not fill. Mattie Gormer"s undiscriminating good-nature, and the slap-dash sociability of her friends, who treated Lily precisely as they treated each other--all these characteristic notes of difference began to wear upon her endurance; and the more she saw to criticize in her companions, the less justification she found for making use of them.
The longing to get back to her former surroundings hardened to a fixed idea; but with the strengthening of her purpose came the inevitable perception that, to attain it, she must exact fresh concessions from her pride. These, for the moment, took the unpleasant form of continuing to cling to her hosts after their return from Alaska. Little as she was in the key of their MILIEU, her immense social facility, her long habit of adapting herself to others without suffering her own outline to be blurred, the skilled manipulation of all the polished implements of her craft, had won for her an important place in the Gormer group. If their resonant hilarity could never be hers, she contributed a note of easy elegance more valuable to Mattie Gormer than the louder pa.s.sages of the band. Sam Gormer and his special cronies stood indeed a little in awe of her; but Mattie"s following, headed by Paul Morpeth, made her feel that they prized her for the very qualities they most conspicuously lacked. If Morpeth, whose social indolence was as great as his artistic activity, had abandoned himself to the easy current of the Gormer existence, where the minor exactions of politeness were unknown or ignored, and a man could either break his engagements, or keep them in a painting-jacket and slippers, he still preserved his sense of differences, and his appreciation of graces he had no time to cultivate. During the preparations for the Brys" TABLEAUX he had been immensely struck by Lily"s plastic possibilities--"not the face: too self-controlled for expression; but the rest of her--gad, what a model she"d make!"--and though his abhorrence of the world in which he had seen her was too great for him to think of seeking her there, he was fully alive to the privilege of having her to look at and listen to while he lounged in Mattie Gormer"s dishevelled drawing-room.
Lily had thus formed, in the tumult of her surroundings, a little nucleus of friendly relations which mitigated the crudeness of her course in lingering with the Gormers after their return. Nor was she without pale glimpses of her own world, especially since the breaking-up of the Newport season had set the social current once more toward Long Island.