Partners (22 page)

So she kept her face bright during those last minutes when Noel and Aunt Ettie were officiously trying to help him pack, and she gave him a bright smile when he said a hurried good-bye. And that smile stayed with him all the time he was gone, persistently coming in between other things and dividing his attention between what he had been doing and what he was about to do.

"I wish you were all going with me," he said with a radiant farewell smile as he was about to drive away from the cottage. His eyes lingered a moment on Gillian's slim figure, in her neat pink print.

Gillian caught her breath softly, with a faint flush in her cheeks, which she instantly subdued to its normal pallor, and gave an impersonal smile.

"Oh, that would be pleasant," she said, "but I'm afraid I wouldn't fit into the environment where you are going."

But Reuben answered quickly, fervently:

"Oh, yes, you would fit in
any
where!" And then he drove away, smiling. But those unconsidered words of his stayed with her all the evening, though she did her best to banish them and tell herself they were only polite nothings, a kind of patter that all people of the world used for pleasant conversation. But at least it served to lift her out of the inferiority complex into which she had been slipping. Then she sat down with the evening paper in front of her as if she were reading and tried to think out a plan for living in such a way that Noel could have the right kind of environment while she was away at the office. Next week, of course, she should go back to the office and begin to earn money again.

Those few dollars that had been given to her from various sources would not last very long when she got back to the city and was on her own. Of course, beyond buying those cheap dresses, she hadn't had to spend any of it yet so far; and when she did return to the city, she wouldn't have to worry lest they wouldn't have a square meal the first night. But she must guard every cent now and save them to care for Noel.

Of course, if any of the money her father thought he left for them would materialize, as Reuben seemed very sure it would sometime, then they could be comfortable. But she simply must not count on that, nor even let herself think about it, until it did come, if it came at all.

She played a game with Noel, with her thoughts on ways and means more than on the game, and Noel finally wearied of it and decided to go to bed.

"Do you think Reuben will come back tomorrow morning, Gillian?" he said wistfully as she kissed him good night.

"Oh, no," said Gillian decidedly. "I think he intended to stay several days. And, Noel, you must get over the idea that Reuben belongs to you. He has only been nice and kind to help us when we were in trouble. And he has a great many interests of his own that will occupy him most of his time. We'll have to learn to take care of ourselves and have a good time without him. Come now, shut your eyes and go to sleep, and in the morning you and I will take a nice long walk on the beach and pick up some lovely shells to take back to the city for you to play with."

So Noel smiled again and went to sleep, secretly hoping that somehow Reuben would overcome this depression that seemed to have befallen them, and come back to make a nice time again. He couldn't believe that Reuben was going to slough them off the way Gillian seemed to think he would.

Meantime, Reuben rode into another world, his mind gradually turning from the pleasures of the past few days to the duties of the moment. He had to plan just how quickly and how many of his plans for his shopping could be performed when he reached the city, before the stores were closed and it was time for him to speed toward Glindenwold.

 

 

 

Glindenwold was approached by a long road, almost like a bridge, stretching to a far island like a mirage against the horizon.

The road of the approach was as perfect as a road could be. A heavy white fence that looked like marble guarded either side above the blueness of the water, bay on one side, sea on the other. And in the distance the dark green of pines and other decorative shrubbery grew, continuing the illusion of an island of palms in the tropics.

The sunset light came from behind Reuben's car and dyed the water all about with rainbow shimmers of evening, and suddenly Reuben found himself wishing that Gillian was there to see it. How she would appreciate the beauty of the scene! And even Noel would bring some of his choice beauty-loving phrases to describe it.

Then came the remembrance of how Gillian had said with that quick recoil that she wouldn't fit where he was going. He wondered if she had come in sharp contact sometime, somewhere, with the young daughter of her employer. His soul resented any possible discourtesy on her part toward Gillian. She wouldn't be able to understand how rare Gillian was, he felt quite sure.

As he approached nearer to the island, a shadowy form of a palace began to rear its head. White marble, with all the traditional beauty of a palace. And it grew upon the vision, the nearer he drew.

Then he thought of Noel's remark about wishing for some very strong glasses so they could see some angels going by. If Noel were here now, he would say this island home looked like the Heavenly City. But Reuben was very sure that when he got there, it would fall very far short of his ideal of the Heavenly City.

There was a wide imposing entrance arch, with great iron gates that were standing wide when Reuben reached his destination, and within there were many trees and lovely foliage, much of it with a foreign look, as if it were hand-trained and ought to be under glass.

Reuben drove slowly in the winding drive, glimpsing tennis courts, swimming pools, even the first tee of a private golf links, and nearer the house two large conservatories, as if the outside grounds themselves were not enough for the needs of the house.

The drive led about through lovely vistas, where one could glimpse the sea now and then, dashing and spreading high foam above great rocks beyond. At length he came to the great white palace itself.

Almost in awe, Reuben got out of his car and surrendered it to the uniformed servant who advanced to meet him.

He went slowly up the steps, followed by another uniformed man who was carrying his modest luggage. He suddenly felt as Gillian had expressed it, that he didn't belong here, and he wished he hadn't come! If he had been back in his car at that instant, he would have turned around and driven back to the city. But he wasn't in the car, and a train of servants was about him, ready to announce his arrival. He had never supposed himself to be a coward, so he went on up the marble steps.

Just at the top he turned and looked across behind him through a wide vista that showed the sea in its majesty, and something in that vision gave him strength. For suddenly there came to him the memory of a sweet poem set to an old English melody that he and Gillian had sung together the night before, each so surprised and pleased that the other knew it.

 

This is my Father's world, and to my listening ears

All nature sings, and round me rings the music of the spheres.

This is my Father's world: I rest me in the thought

Of rocks and trees, of skies and seas,

His hand the wonders wrought.

 

He stood there an instant steadying himself with the thought, and the echo of another line rang in his heart:

 

O let me ne'er forget

That though the wrong seems oft so strong, God is the ruler yet.

 

And then he turned and followed the servant into the wide reception hall, presently arriving in a gorgeously appointed chamber, with the information that dinner would be served in a short time.

A man arrived and took possession of his suitcase, unpacking his things and putting them in closets and drawers, laying out on the bed things suitable for the evening.

Reuben had never been accustomed to a manservant, presuming to dictate his movements. He knew enough to smile and take it all as if it were his habit, but he didn't like it. Still, it was what he had let himself in for in coming to a place like this, and he smiled in derision at himself for being in such a position. "Posing as a man of the world," he murmured to himself. Well, it didn't matter. One could profit by all sorts of experiences of course, and it would be amusing to look back upon. Why would one want all this affectation?

So presently he thanked the man and dismissed him and went about his dressing rapidly enough, spending most of his time looking about the room, gazing out of the windows, taking in the thought of living in a place like this. Supposing he were rich and had no conscience to hinder him, would he like all this ostentation?

Well, perhaps he might get used to it, but it wouldn't be his choice. He liked better the thought of the little white cottage. Then he went on humming the words of the song:

 

This is my Father's world: He shines in all that's fair;

In rustling grass I hear Him pass;

He speaks to me everywhere.

 

Was that true? Would there be anyone here who would be aware of God tonight, in this beautiful place? Were there people here who knew God at all? If he was sure there were none, then why was he here? What was making him have these strange serious thoughts? Questions such as his mother used to ask? Such thoughts as the little boy Noel had voiced? Well, evidently he didn't belong here any more than Gillian.

Then came the announcement of dinner, and he knew he must go downstairs. He brushed his hands over his forehead and eyes to put such thoughts away for the present. He was here, he must go through with this thing, and he must do it with honor, not dishonor, and not by yielding any of his principles!

Down in the wide splendid rooms, among a throng of jovial people milling about in garments that were the last word in fashion, he was met by cocktails on every hand. Everybody was drinking cocktails. He didn't drink and didn't intend to, but he found it was a continuous process to try to convince the waiters that he didn't.

And then came Anise, dawning on him in a golden dress that emphasized her golden hair. It was set off by golden jewels and touches of black velvet in straps on her white, white flesh, a great deal of which was in evidence. Anise in the full regalia of her world. She was lovely, yes! He forced himself to consider her and found that indeed she was beautiful, more beautiful than he had ever found her before in daytime fashionable attire. There was a glamour about her now that she did not ordinarily wear.

She had beside her a young man to whom he had been introduced just before they came out to dinner, and who apparently was the young actor who had taken the part she had wanted Reuben to take. He gathered that they had been seen a good deal together of late and were supposed to be very much attached. At least, Anise was allowing that impression to get around. He watched her furtively and felt almost relieved that it seemed to be so. And yet, he rather wondered at himself. Here was he, indifferent toward a friendship that had been offered him, almost forced upon him indeed. All this wealth and beauty did not tempt him to wish he accepted it when he could have had it. Was she purposely giving such noticeable attention to the actor, he wondered. He saw her glance his way now and then, but most casually. Well, it was all right with him.

He wondered what she would say if she could know that several times he had thought of Gillian in comparison, and always with a sense of rest and peace. Gillian was lovely. She wasn't just a painted glamour girl like Anise. Anise was exotic as a flower but not one really to love.

He was startled at that thought. It hadn't occurred to him before, that thought about loving in connection with Gillian. He put it away peremptorily, as not to be even considered in this atmosphere. It seemed a desecration of Gillian.

And then, of course, in the back of his mind there was always the thought of Agnes. She had been there through several years. For he had always meant, since high school days, that someday he would go back to Agnes. The bright high spots of his boyhood still hovered on the edges of his memory. He had stayed away from her at first because his mother felt he was too young yet for such close ties. She thought he needed more maturity for such momentous decisions as the selection of a life partner. And he, because he adored his mother and felt her judgment to be wise, had yielded. And then when his mother was gone, he had been interested in his own career to the extent of devoting his entire thought to being a successful businessman. Being out of the habit of Agnes, and in the habit of waiting till wisdom dictated it was time to move, he had not suffered disappointment in waiting a little longer before going to see Agnes again. In fact, he had almost forgotten that he was keeping that as a sort of goal for the future in the back of his mind. He just hadn't been thinking about girls. Yet he still felt that he owed a kind of fealty in his very thoughts, to Agnes. At least until he was sure she was
not
the girl he wanted for his life companion.

When dinner was over, the company drifted toward the theater, and Reuben with the rest found a pleasant seat, with the girl who had been sitting on his right at dinner. She was doing her best to be entertaining, although Reuben wasn't entertained. He was wondering at that moment whether Noel had remembered to put the crumbs on the plate at the back door for the birds. But he would of course, dear little fellow who loved the birds so much that he would gladly have gone without his own supper rather than have the birds miss theirs!

And as he sat there idly talking with a girl who was desolate because the man she wanted was with another girl, he wondered why, after all, he had come to this affair. It was not out of curiosity, just to see this famous costly establishment. Not just because he feared his employer might be offended and he might lose his job. No! He wanted no job that was dependent upon an employer's whims! Was it because his employer's daughter had been so attractive? He studied her from afar as she drifted about among her guests. She was attractive of course, graceful and willowy, lithe and with pretty, regular features, though her expression was one of habitual discontent. Had he been intrigued by this girl? Was that the reason why he was here, to test her out and be sure he did not want a closer friendship? Well, if that was it, he would likely know before this evening was over whether he wanted to waste any more time in an atmosphere like this or not. It seemed to him now that just the atmosphere--all these people, their way of thinking and doing--was so alien to his own way of living that the answer was plain enough. Could he ever win a girl like Anise to live a simpler life? Was it worthwhile to even try, even if he cared for her? After all this prodigality of luxury, could she be content to keep a little home like other young women and be happy just in their life together? Probably not.