And there she was--nothing left of his vague memory but the immense eyes. Even these were not clear and bright, but red in the whites and disordered with tears. For the rest (Fitz made the mental comparison himself) she reminded him of a silly baby camel that he had seen in the zoo, that had six inches of body, six feet of legs, and the most bashful expression imaginable.
Mrs. Burton, you may be sure, did not lose the start that Fitz gave before he went forward and shook hands with Eve. But she misinterpreted it. She said to herself (all the while saying other things aloud to Mrs.
Williams): "If he had only seen her a year ago, even a boy of his age would have been struck by her, and would have remembered her. But now!
Now, he"ll never forget her. And I don"t blame him. She"s so ugly that he was frightened."
But that was not why Fitz had started. The poor, gawky, long-legged, tearful, frightened, overgrown, wretched girl had not struck him as ugly; she had struck him as the most pathetic and to-be-pitied object that he had ever seen. I do not account for this. I state it. Had she been pretty and self-possessed he would have left the room presently on some excuse, but now he stayed--not attracted, but troubled and sorry and eager to put her at her ease. So he would have turned aside to help a gutter cat that had been run over and hurt, though he would have pa.s.sed the proudest, fluffiest Angora in Christendom with no more than a glance. He began to talk to her in his plainest, straightest, honestest Ohioan. It always came out strongest when he was most moved. His mother"s sharp ears heard the A"s, how they narrowed in his mouth, and smote every now and then with a homely tang against the base of his nose. "Just like his father," she thought, "when some one"s in trouble."
And she had a sudden twinge of nostalgia.
Fitz lured Eve to a far corner and showed her a set of wonderful carved chess-men that he had bought that morning; and photographs of his friends at Eton, and of the school, and of some of the masters. He talked very earnestly and elaborately about these dull matters, and pa.s.sed by the opportunities which her first embarra.s.sed replies offered for the repartee of youth. And he who was most impatient of restraint and simple occupations talked and behaved like a dull, simple, kindly old gentleman. His method may not have left Eve with a dazzling impression of him; she could not know that he was not himself, but all at once a deliberate artist seeking to soothe and to make easy.
Eve did not enjoy that call; she enjoyed nothing in those days but prayer and despair; but she got to the end of it without any more tears and crashes. And she said to her mother afterward that young Williams seemed a nice boy--but so dull. Well, they were quits. She had seemed dull enough to Fitz. A sick cat may touch your heart, but does not furnish you with lively companionship. Fitz was heartily glad when the Burtons had gone. He had worked very hard to make things possible for that absurd baby camel.
"You may call her an absurd baby camel," said his mother, "but it"s my opinion that she is going to be a very great beauty."
"_She!"_ exclaimed Fitz, thinking that the ugliness of Eve might have unhinged his mother"s beauty-loving mind.
"Oh," said his mother, "she"s at an age now--poor child! But don"t you remember how the bones of her face--"
"I am trying to forget," said Fitz with a tremendous shudder for the occasion.
IV
Fitz did not take a degree at Oxford. He left in the middle of his last term, leaving many friends behind. He stood well, and had been in no especial difficulty of mischief, and why he left was a mystery. The truth of the matter is that he had been planning for ten years to leave Oxford in the very middle of his last term. For upon that date fell his twenty-first birthday, when he was to be his own man. He spent a few hours in his mother"s house in London. And, of course, she tried to make him go back and finish, and was very much upset, for her. But Fitz was obdurate.
"If it were Yale, or Princeton, or Harvard, or Berkeley, or Squedunk,"
he said, "I would stick it out. But a degree from Oxford isn"t worth six weeks of home."
"But aren"t you going to wait till I can go with you?"
"If you"ll go with me to-night you shall have my state-room, and I"ll sleep on the coal. But if you can"t go till to-morrow, mother mine, I will not wait. I have cabled my father," said he, "to meet me at quarantine."
"Your poor, busy father," she said, "will hardly feel like running on from Cleveland to meet a boy who is coming home without a degree."
"My father," said Fitz, "will be at quarantine. He will come out in a tug. And he will arrange to take me off and put me ash.o.r.e before the others. If the ship is anywhere near on schedule my father and I will be in time to see a ball game at the Polo Grounds."
Something in the young man"s honest face and voice aroused an answering enthusiasm in his mother"s heart.
"Oh, Fitz," she said, "if I could possibly manage it I would go with you. Tell your father that I am sailing next week. I won"t cable.
Perhaps he"ll be surprised and pleased."
"I _know_ he will," said Fitz, and he folded his mother in his arms and rumpled her hair on one side and then on the other.
Those who beheld, and who, because of the wealth of the princ.i.p.al personages, took notice of the meeting between Fitz and his father, say that Fitz touched his father"s cheek with his lips as naturally and unaffectedly as if he had been three years old, that a handshake between the two men accompanied this salute, and that Williams senior was heard to remark that it had looked like rain early in the morning, but that now it didn"t, and that he had a couple of seats for the ball game. What he really said was inside, neither audible nor visible upon his smooth-shaven, care-wrinkled face. It was an outcry of the heart, so joyous as to resemble grief.
There was a young and pretty widow on that ship who had made much of Fitz on the way out and had pretended that she understood him. She thought that she had made an impression, and that, whatever happened, he would not forget her. But when he rushed up, his face all joyous, to say good-by, her heart sank. And she told her friends afterward that there was a certain irresistible, orphan-like appeal about that young Williams, and that she had felt like a mother toward him. But this was not till very much later. At first she used to shut herself up in her room and cry her eyes out.
They lunched at an uptown hotel and afterward, smoking big cigars, they drove to a hatter"s and bought straw hats, being very critical of each other"s fit and choice.
Then they hurried up to the Polo Grounds, and when it began to get exciting in the fifth inning, Fitz felt his father pressing something into his hand. Without taking his eyes from Wagsniff, who was at the bat, Fitz put that something into his mouth and began to chew. The two brothers--for that is the high relationship achieved sometimes in America, and in America alone, between father and son--thrust their new straw hats upon the backs of their round heads, humped themselves forward, and rested with their elbows on their knees and watched--no, that is your foreigner"s att.i.tude toward a contest--they _played_ the game.
I cannot leave them thus without telling the reader that they survived the almost fatal ninth, when, with the score 3-2 against, two out and a man on first, Wagsniff came once more to the bat and, swinging cunningly at the very first ball pitched to him by the famous Mr. Blatherton, lifted it over the centrefielder"s head and trotted around the bases and, grinning like a Hallowe"en pumpkin, came romping home.
At dinner that night Williams senior said suddenly:
"Fitz, what you do want to do?"
A stranger would have thought that Fitz was being asked to choose between a theatre and a roof-garden, but Fitz knew that an entirely different question was involved in those casually spoken words. He was being asked off-hand to state off-hand what he was going to do with his young life. But he had his answer waiting.
"I want to see the world," he said.
Williams senior, as a rule, thought things out in his own mind and did not press for explanations. But on the present occasion he asked:
"As how?"
Fitz smiled very youthfully and winningly.
"I"ve seen some of it," he said, "right side up. Now I want to have a look upside-down. If I go into something of yours--as myself--I don"t get a show. I"m marked. The other clerks would swipe to me, and the heads would credit me with brains before I showed whether I had any or not. I want you to get me a job in Wall Street--under any other name than my own--except Percy"--they both laughed--"your first name and mamma"s maiden name would do--James Holden. And n.o.body here knows me by sight, I"ve been abroad so much; and it seems to me I"d get an honest point of view and find out if I was any good or not, and if I could get myself liked for myself or not."
"Well," said his father; "well, that"s an idea, anyhow."
"I"ve had valets and carriages and luxuries all my life," said Fitz. "I think I like them. But I don"t _know_--do I? I"ve never tried the other thing. I"m sure I don"t want to be an underpaid clerk always. But I am sure I want to try it on for a while."
"I was planning," said his father, "to take a car and run about the country with you and show you all the different enterprises that I"m interested in. I thought you"d make a choice, find something you liked, and go into it for a starter. If you"re any good you can go pretty far with me pulling for you. You don"t like that idea?"
"Not for now," said Fitz. "I like mine better."
"Do you want to live on what you earn?"
"If I can stand it."
"You"ll be started with ten dollars a week, say. Can you do it?"
"What did grandpa start on?" asked Fitz.
"His board, two suits of clothes, and twenty-four dollars a year," said William senior with a proud ring in his voice.
"And you?"
"I began at the bottom, too. That was the old-fashioned idea. Father was rich then. But he wanted me to show that I was some good."
"Did grandpa pull for you, or did you have to find yourself?"
"Well," said the father diffidently, "I had a natural taste for business. But," and he smiled at his son, "I shouldn"t live on what you earn, if I were you. You needn"t spend much, but have a good time out of hours. You"ll find yourself working side by side with other sons of rich men. And you can bet your bottom dollar _they_ don"t live on what they can earn. Unless you make a display of downright wealth you"ll be judged on your merits. That"s what you"re driving at, isn"t it?"