It was to me continuously a matter of satisfaction and of interest to see Hortense disturbed--whether for causes real or imaginary--about the security of her title to her lover John,nor can I say that my misinterpreted bunch of roses diminished this satisfaction.I should have been glad to know if the accomplished young woman had further probed that question and discovered the truth,but it seemed scarce likely that she could do this without the help of one of three persons,Eliza and myself who knew all,or John who knew nothing;for the up-country bride,and whatever other people in Kings Port there were to whom the bride might gayly recite the tale of my roses,were none of them likely to encounter Miss Rieppe;their paths and hers would not meet until they met in church at the wedding of Hortense and John.No,she could not have found out the truth;for never in the world would she,at this eleventh hour,risk a conversation with John upon a subject so full of well-packed explosives;and so she must be simply keeping on both him and Eliza an eye as watchful as lay in her power.As for Charley,what bait,what persuasion,what duress she had been able to find that took him at an hour so critical from her side to New York,I could not in the least conjecture.
Had she said to the little banker,Go,because I must think it over alone?It did not seem strong enough.Or had she said,Go,and on your return you shall have my answer?Not adequate either,I thought.Or had it been,If you don't go,it shall be "no,"to-day and forever?This last was better;but there was no telling,nor did Beverly Rodgers,to whom Ipropounded all my theories,have any notion of what was between Hortense and Charley.He only knew that Charley was quite aware of the existence of John,but had always been merely amused at the notion of him.
"So have you been merely amused,"I reminded him.
"Not since that look I saw her give him,old chap.I know she wants him,only not why she wants him.And Charley,you know--well,of course,poor Charley's a banker,just a banker and no more;and a banker is merely the ace in the same pack where the drummer is the two-spot.Our American civilization should be called Drummer's Delight--and there's nothing in your fire-eater to delight a drummer:he's a gentleman,he'll be only so-so rich,and he's away back out of the lime-light,while poor old Charley's a bounder,and worth forty millions anyhow,and right in the centre of the glare.How should he see any danger in John?""I wonder if he hasn't begun to?"
"Well,perhaps.He and Hortense have been 'talking business';I know that.Oh--and why do you think she said he must go to New York?To make a better deal for the fire-eater's phosphates than his fuddling old trustee here was going to close with.Charley said that could be arranged by telegram.But she made him go himself!She's extraordinary.He'll arrive in town to-morrow,he'll leave next day,he'll reach here by the Southern on Saturday night in time for our Sunday yacht picnic,and then something has got to happen,I should think."Here was another key,unlocking a further piece of knowledge for me.Ihad not been able to guess why Hortense should be keeping Charley "on";but how natural was this policy,when understood clearly!She still needed Charley's influence in the world of affairs.Charley's final service was to be the increasing of his successful rival's fortune.Iwondered what Charley would do,when the full extent of his usefulness dawned upon him;and with wonder renewed I thought of General Rieppe,and this daughter he had managed to beget.Surely the mother of Hortense,whoever she may have been,must have been a very richly endowed character!
"Something has most certainly got to happen and soon,"I said to Beverly Rodgers."Especially if my busy boarding-house bodies are right in saying that the invitations for the wedding are to be out on Monday."Well,I had Friday,I had Udolpho;and there,while on that excursion,when I should be alone with John Mayrant during many hours,and especially the hours of deep,confidential night,I swore to myself on oath I would say to the boy the last word,up to the verge of offense,that my wits could devise.Apart from a certain dramatic excitement as of battle--battle between Hortense and me--I truly wished to help him out of the miserable mistake his wrong standard,his chivalry gone perverted,was spurring him on to make;and I had a comic image of myself,summoning Miss Josephine,summoning Miss Eliza,summoning Mrs.Gregory and Mrs.
Weguelin,and the whole company of aunts and cousins,and handing to them the rescued John with the single but sufficient syllable:"There!"He was in apparent spirits,was John,at that hour of our departure for Udolpho;he pretended so well that I was for a while altogether deceived.
He had wished to call for me with the conveyance in which he should drive us out into the lonely country through the sunny afternoon;but instead,I chose to walk round to where he lived,and where I found him stuffing beneath the seats of the vehicle the baskets and the parcels which con-tained the provisions for our ample supper.
"I have never seen you drink hearty yet,and now I purpose to,"said John.
As the packing was finishing Miss Josephine St.Michael came by;and the sight of the erect old lady reminded me that of all Kings Port figures known to me and seen in the garden paying their visit of ceremony to Hortense,she alone--she and Eliza La Heu--had been absent.Eliza's declining to share in that was well-nigh inevitable,but Miss Josephine was another matter.Perhaps she had considered her sister's going there to be enough;at any rate,she had not been party to the surrender,and this gave me whimsical satisfaction.Moreover,it had evidently occasioned no ruffle in the affectionate relations between herself and John.
