She had no shyness of manner but a deep and intense shyness of the soul. Some day ... perhaps ... but never yet.
II
She turned her car after a time, for she feared that her batteries would run down. The strikers were still lounging and scowling; and this time having relaxed her mental girths she looked at them with sympathy.
She knew from the liberal education she had received at the hands of Mr. James Kirkpatrick, and the admissions of Judge Lawton and other thoughtful men, that the iniquities of employers and labor were pretty equally divided; greed and lack of tact on the one hand, greed and cla.s.s hatred and the itch for power on the part of labor leaders; and a stupidity in the ma.s.s that was more pardonable than the short-sighted stupidities of capital.... But what would you? A few centuries hence the world might be civilized, but not in her time. Nothing gave her mind less exercise. One thing at least was certain and that was that when strikes lasted too long the laborers and their families went hungry, and the employers did not. That settled the question for her and determined the course of her sympathy. (It was not yet the fashion to recognize the unfortunate "public," squeezed and helpless between these two louder demonstrators of sheer human nature.)
But her mind did not linger in the shipyards. She had problems of her own.... The chief of her compensations, having made a mess of her life, had been taken from her: her pride and her faith in the man to whom she was bound. The death of love had been so gradual that she had not noticed it in time for decent obsequies; she had not sent a regret in its wake.... She had had enough left, more than many women who had made the same blind plunge into the barbed wire maze of matrimony.... And now she had nothing. She would have liked to drive right out on to a liner about to sail through the Golden Gate ... but she would no doubt have to live on ... and on ... in changed, possibly humble, conditions ... despising the man she must meet sometime every day.... Yes, she did wish she never had been born.
CHAPTER VIII
I
She concluded, while she dressed for dinner, that she must be a coward.
Alexina was far from satisfied with herself as she was; she would have liked to possess a great talent like Gora, or be an intellectual power in the world of some sort. She was far from stultification by the national gift of complacence, careless self-satisfaction--racial rather than individual ... qualities that have made the United States lag far behind the greater European nations in all but material development and a certain inventiveness; both of which in some cases are outcla.s.sed in the older world.
A California woman of her mother"s generation had become a great and renowned archaeologist and lived romantically in a castle in the City of Mexico. She bad often wished, since her serious mental life had begun, that this gift had descended upon her--the donee had also been a member of the A. A., and this striking endowment might just as well have tarried a generation and a half longer.
She was by no means avid of publicity--people seldom are until they have tasted of it--but she would have enjoyed a rapid and brilliant development of her mental faculties with productiveness of some sort either as a sequel or an interim. It was impossible to advance much farther in her present circ.u.mstances.
No, she was far from perfect, and willing to admit it; but she had always a.s.sumed that courage, moral as well as physical, was an accompaniment of race, like breeding and certain automatic impulses.
But her hands were trembling and her cheeks drained of every drop of color because she must have a plain and serious talk with a guilty wretch. She had nothing to fear, but she could not have felt worse if she had been the culprit herself. What was human nature but a bundle of paradoxes?
At least she had the respite of the dinner hour. Only a fiend would spoil a man"s dinner--and cigar--no matter what he had done. That would make the full time of her own respite about an hour and twenty minutes.
In a moment of panic she contemplated telephoning to Aileen and begging her to come over to dinner. She also no doubt could get Bascom Luning and Jimmie Thorne. Then it would not be possible to speak to Mortimer before to-morrow as he always fell asleep at ten o"clock when there was no dancing.... To-morrow it would be easier, and wiser. One should never speak in anger....
But she was quite aware that her anger had burnt itself out. Her mind felt as cold as her hands. Better have it over. She put on a severe black frock, not only suitable to the occasion but as a protection from disarming compliments. Mortimer, who dressed so well himself that it would have been as impossible for him to overdress as to be rude to a woman, disliked dark severity in woman"s attire. He never criticized his wife"s clothes, but when they displeased him he ignored them with delicate ostentation.
II
Alexina had begun to feel that she should scream in the complete silence of the dining-room when Mortimer unexpectedly made a remark.
"Gora arrives to-morrow. Will you meet her? I shall not have time."
"Of course. I shall be delighted to see her again. It would have been an ideal arrangement if I could have left her here with you when I went to Europe."
"Yes. She was here for a week. I missed her when she left."
"W-h-at? When was she here? You never told me."
"I forgot. It was soon after you left. The ship was disabled--fire, I think,--and put back. I asked her to stay here until the next sailing."
"How jolly."
Again there was a complete silence. But Alexina did not notice it. Her brain was whirling. After all, she might be mistaken! Mortimer! He might be innocent.... To think of Gora as a thief was fantastic ... was it? ... Was she not Mortimer"s sister? ... Why he rather than she? ...
And what after all did she know of Gora? ... She inspired some people with distrust, even fear.... That might be the cause of Mortimer"s depression.... He knew it....
At all events it was a straw and she grasped it as if it had been a plank in mid-ocean. With even a bare chance that Mortimer was innocent it would be unpardonable to insult and wound him.... Nor was it quite possible to ask him if his sister were a thief. She must wait, of course.
And if Gora had taken the bonds they might be recovered. It would be like a woman to secrete them in a reaction of terror after having nerved herself up to the deed.
She wished that Gora had gone to Hong Kong. Bolted. Then she could be certain. But at least she had a respite, and she felt so ebullient that she almost forgot her loss, and swept Morty over to the Lawtons after dinner; and the Judge took them all to the movies.
CHAPTER IX
I
Alexina would listen to no remonstrance. Gora might send her trunks to Geary Street if she liked, but she must come home to Ballinger House and spend at least one night with her brother and sister, who had missed her quite dreadfully. Gora wondered how Alexina could have missed her so touchingly in Europe, but accepted the invitation, as a note from the surgeon to whom she had written by the previous steamer asked her to hold herself in readiness for an operation a week hence.
Gora was looking remarkably well, and Alexina a.s.sumed it was not only the six months of mountain life and the three months in the tropics.
She had an air of a.s.sured power, rarely absent in a woman who has found herself and achieved a definite place in life. Besides being one of the best nurses in San Francisco, in constant demand by the leading doctors and surgeons, her short stories had attracted considerable attention in the magazines, although no publisher would risk bringing them out in book form. But they were invariably mentioned in any summary of the year"s best stories, one had been included in a volume of selected short stories by modern authors, and one in a recent text-book compiled for the benefit of aspirants in the same difficult art. The remuneration had been insignificant, for her stories were not of the popular order, and she had not yet the name that alone commands the high reward; but she had advanced farther than many another as severely handicapped, and she knew through her admiring sister-in-law and Aileen Lawton that her stories were mentioned occasionally at a San Francisco dinner table and even discussed! She was "arriving." No doubt of that.
II
"When will the novel come out? I can"t wait."
"Not until the spring."
They were sitting in Alexina"s room and Gora had been placed directly in front of the cabinet, which she did not appear even to see. She had taken off her hat and coat and was holding the heavy ma.s.ses of hair away from her head.
"Do you mind? I feel as if I had a twenty-pound weight...."
"What a question! Do what you want."
Gora took out the pins and let down her hair. It was not as fine as Alexina"s, but it was brown and warm and an unusual head of hair for these days. It fell down both sides of her face, and her long cold unrevealing eyes looked paler than ever between her sun-burned cheeks and her low heavy brows.
Alexina knew that she had an antagonist far worthier of any weapons she might find in her armory than poor Morty, but she believed she could trap her if she were guilty.... And she must be ... she must....