How could it be that she was standing in the very heart of Paris with everything that she had ever wanted being stuffed into her outstretched arms and still be wretched? How could she let her persistent, nagging, neurotic vision of a staring boy, staring with Tommy's bewildered and foolish eyes, and with that gaping countenance that her former husband assumed whenever life even for a moment failed to resemble his own idiotic concept of it, stand in the way of a virtually guaranteed bliss? How could she, a priestess of the life of reason, allow a silly fantasy to soil the goal it had taken a near miracle to enable her to achieve? Only the presence behind her kept her from stamping her foot.
What it seemed to reduce itself to was that Angelica Hill's love could not be accepted but on a basis of truth. Natica had never before, that she could remember, found it uncomfortable to wear a mask, even with close friends. Were they not wearing them too? The one exception had been Aunt Ruth, but she had been like a confidante in a French classic tragedy whose function had been to know all. There was something about the proffered friendship of Stephen's mother that seemed to require an absolute candor to assure its validity. Yet surely Mrs. Hill herself wore a mask for her husband, perhaps even for her son. Was it that a greater loyalty was prescribed among women?
"What is it, my dear? Are you all right?"
Natica turned back to gaze for a moment at her interlocutor. She felt suddenly dizzy and sat down. "It's just that I'm going to have a baby. And I don't know for sure..." She broke off, appalled. Had she really been going to say anything so crazy?
"You're not sure, but you think you may be?" At this Mrs. Hill rose and stretched out her arms again. "Oh, my dear, I do hope so. It's just what you and Stephen most need. But we must take care of you." Natica was once more folded in the silken embrace. "I wonder if we hadn't all better sail straight home. There's always the chance they may be going to start another horrid war over here."
Natica did not trust herself for the rest of her visit to do more than nod and mumble monosyllables to her mother-in-law's many solicitations. But that was all that would be expected of her now. She was to relax and be made "entirely comfortable."
When Stephen came up and took her out to an early dinner at nearby Larue, she was still in a semi-daze. But as she drank her cocktail, her lips silently articulated a prayer that she might miscarry. Was she a monster? Was she the most unnatural of women? She visibly shrugged, even as he stared at her. What did it matter what she was? She was what she was. Or she would be what she showed herself.
He wanted to know how his mother had been.
"Oh, wonderful. Perfectly wonderful."
His smile was a touch sour. "She wins everyone over. I suppose you told her about the baby."
She stared. "What about the baby?"
"Why, that you're having one, of course. What else?"
"Oh." She pondered. "Yes, I told her that. She seemed very
"She didn't think it rather soon?" He grinned.
"Well, I said I wasn't entirely sure."
"Good. What else did you talk about?"
"About what you should do when we came home. She thought you ought to work with your cousin Tyler Bennett. That it would help you to learn about the family finances."
His countenance at once darkened. "And what did you say?"
"Why, I thought it was a fine idea. Why isn't it?"
"Because I detest my cousin Tyler and everything he stands for! And Mother knows that. But does she care? Of course not. Just another silly man's idea, that's what she thinks. The poor creatures have to be kept quiet and put to work in some harmless occupation where at least they can take care of the money that buys all the things the girls want!"
"The girls?" Natica mused. "Does that mean your mother and me?"
"Well, if Mother has anything to say about it, it will. She twists people around her little finger. I'm afraid she's got you tied up already."
Natica was intrigued by his obviously very real anger. "And is that really such a bad thing? Don't you want me to get on with your mother?"
"No! She's a castrator, that's what she is."
"But she can hardly castrate me, can she?"
"Don't make a joke out of it! She can turn you into what she is. And maybe it won't be so hard at that!"
She gazed curiously into his dark eyes. Never had she seen him so violent. "Dear me, I guess I know now what people mean about recognizing the moment when the honeymoon is over. We're really married now, aren't we?"
He blanched. "My God, what have I been saying, darling? Can you ever forgive me? And in your condition, too!"
She allowed him to apologize for the rest of the meal, and then she insisted on going immediately back to their hotel and going to bed. For she had suddenly begun to feel very ill indeed.
She woke up in the middle of the night with a high fever, and Stephen, desperate, called the hotel's doctor. He diagnosed her condition as flu, but when in the morning she was worse Stephen insisted that she be admitted to the American Hospital. In the ambulance she lost consciousness.
***
It was Mrs. Hill, sitting by her bedside, who informed her gravely and sadly, in a low sweet tone, that she had miscarried.
"But everything is all right, my poor dear child. You will be able to have another baby after a proper rest. Stephen wanted me to tell you. He simply couldn't himself. He's in the most terrible state, blaming himself for upsetting you."
Natica reached out a hand to take her mother-in-law's. Her first thought was that she was going to let Stephen feel guilty, at least for a while. There was no telling how many ways it might come in handy on their return to New York.
"It's all right," she murmured to Mrs. Hill. "Maybe it's really for the best. I couldn't seem to get over the notion there was something wrong with the poor baby."
And still holding Mrs. Hill's hand she lay back and closed her eyes. She wondered if she was not perfectly happy.
M
RS.
H
ILL
was good to her word, and Stephen and Natica were able to buy a small stylish duplex apartment in upper Park Avenue with a marble-floored foyer and a winding stairwell and furnish it with colonial and federal pieces from rooms in Redwood which Angelica had chosen to do over in French styles. Stephen went docilely if a bit sullenly to work for his cousin Tyler Bennett, and Natica found herself pleasurably occupied in decorating her new home, buying new clothes, reading books and cultivating the many members of her new and, to her anyway, interesting family.
The coming of Armageddon to Europe and the period of its curious suspension known as the "phony war" blended with the initial unreality of her new life, making the transition easier for her, perhaps with its implication that nothing need be taken too seriously as nothing was likely to last. Her greatest gratification was in the unexpected welcome that she received from the Hill aunts and cousins. Her father-in-law and his two brothers, Erastus and Fred, both very much like him, were distinctly reserved, even a touch chilly, but she was quick to note that they were thus with others of the family. Their wives and children were distinctly friendly. Angelica had struck the opening note of cordiality, and it was obediently followed. Stephen's sisters were frequent callers, urging her to join them in bridge afternoons or discussion groups. Janine and Susan were certainly not stimulating companions, but Natica cared nothing for that at present. She reveled in her new sense of being included, and she was determined to let nothing interfere with whatever brief period it might continue to amuse her.
Stephen was her one disappointment. He was certainly discontented with his work, if what he did downtown could be called that, for he never discussed it and left the office early to play squash or drink with friends at the Racquet Club, but so long as he did not complain to herâand a lingering guilt about his possible role in her miscarriage kept him silentâshe decided to put off facing the problem of his ultimate occupation. Here again, might not the war take care of it? Her doctor had told her that she was well enough to start another baby, but she had persuaded him to take the position with Stephen that it would be wiser to wait a year. She needed the time to reorient herself comfortably in her new world.
As in French society an erring wife was tolerated so long as her husband condoned her conduct, so in its American counterpart a past overlooked by a mother-in-law was overlooked by all. For the first couple of months after her establishment in New York Natica found herself constantly in Mrs. Hill's company. She lunched with her mother-in-law at the Colony Club; she sat beside her in her opera box; she accompanied her on calls to such great ladies as Mrs. Cornelius Vanderbilt and the Misses Wetmore. Everyone appeared to find Natica charming; her intelligence, her good manners, her modesty, were much praised. It was generally concluded that she must have had some good reason to leave her first husband.
Reconciling her own family to her new situation proved an even easier task. When her father was invited to use Uncle Fred Hill's fishing camp in the Adirondacks, he forgot the very existence of Tommy Barnes, as did her mother when Angelica Hill engaged the contracting firm in which both Natica's brothers worked to rebuild the decaying barn and stables of Redwood.
Even Edith DeVoe, now Mrs. Tyler Bennett, did not appear to begrudge her former tutor her elevation into her own circle. She took the arbitrary and often quixotic rules of the social structure entirely for granted: if Natica was accepted, she was quite content to accept her, just as she would presumably have turned her head the other way at the spectacle of her even undeserved downfall. Besides, she welcomed an ally in the Hill family, where she was not finding herself quite as happy as she had expected to be.
"They're more of a clan than anything I've ever known," she confided in her new cousin-in-law. "There must be something about a shared fortune that holds people together. In my family we only saw the uncles and aunts at Christmas or get-together weekends. Of course, some of them lost their shirts in the crash, and Mummie used to say they only came around for a handout. But Tyler's mother telephones her sisters-in-law every blessed morning in the week. What can they have to talk about that much? Maybe all that intimacy comes from the lowly origin of the Hills. Do you suppose so? After all, the grandfather started as a clerk in a general store in some hick upstate village. They must have had to lend each other a hand in the early days of the social climb. Maybe the habit stuck."
"I didn't think they cared that much about society," Natica objected. "The men, anyway. Aren't they too serious for that sort of thing?"
"They may be
now.
But they weren't always. Have you noticed they all married into old families? Mr. Bennett, Tyler's father, is a descendant of Peter Stuyvesant on the distaff side. At least he's always telling me so. And Stephen's mother was a Kip, and Uncle Erastus Hill married a Schermerhom. It can't all be a coincidence."
"At least they didn't go in for European titles."
"But that was earlier. That had gone out of fashion. Besides, it never worked for the men. No, the Hills are smart. They always get their money's worth."
"I guess I'm the exception to that rule."
"Well, of course they didn't choose
you.
As a matter of fact, my dear, you had to be cleaned up a bit. It's quite wonderful to watch their organization once they get started."
Natica was intrigued. "How did they clean me up?"
"Don't you really know? Aunt Angelica laid down the party line. Your first marriage had to be socially annulled. They spread the story that your impoverished parents had bludgeoned you into marrying the first halfway respectable male that came along, while you were hardly old enough to know your own mind. When he turned out to be a callow lout..."
"Oh, Edith, poor Tommy!"
"I think they even implied he was impotent. That it was really a
mariage blanc.
And so, when the beautiful Stephen came along ... well, what could anyone expect?"
Natica reflected, with only mild shame, that there was an element of excitement in receiving the protection of so strong and united a tribe. But was it truly united? "I'd be surprised if my father-in-law had much to do with my rehabilitation."
"Oh, they leave the character assassination to the women. Who don't, I might add, need much help."
"But aren't you and I, as in-laws, the gainers from that kind of family loyalty?"
"I'm not quite in your boat, dearie," Edith retorted, but with more amusement than resentment. "I was a virgin bride, thanks to darling Mama's eagle eye and strong chaperonage. And I may not have been quite a Stuyvesant or Schermerhorn, but the DeVoes weren't nobodies by any means, and Tyler had done a couple of deals with Daddy at the bank ... Oh, yes, I fitted into the general scheme. Don't think my ever-loving spouse would overlook the smallest item in my list of assets!"
"Now don't tell me Tyler's mercenary. And anyway, why should he be? I'm sure he adores you, Edith."
"Are you kidding? Tyler doesn't adore anything but making money. That's why they all admire him so. They think him a throwback to Grandpa Hill. And of course his lordship must have heirs to leave the bucks he makes to. That's where I come in. Do you know, he wants six kids? Can you beat it? Well, he's got one, the sacred son, and I can tell you he's going to do some waiting before Yours Truly goes through
that
again. I envy you Stephen. He seems to do everything you say."
"He coddles me because of the miscarriage. I don't suppose that will last forever."
"Well, gather ye rosebuds, as they say."
"I'm sure you handle Tyler more than you let on."
"If only I could! Nobody handles Tyler. To tell you the honest truth, I think I'm a wee bit scared of him."
Natica decided to reassess Edith's husband after this. Tyler Bennett was slight of build and oddly boyish looking for a man in his middle thirties of such reputed ability. His hair was crew cut; his face freckled, his small nose snubbed and his eyes were a staring pale blue. And if boyish looking, he had a boy's stubborn tenacity of purpose. At family gatherings, when he sat next to Natica, he gave the impression of faintly sneering at everything and everybody, including the sacred Hill uncles, whom he seemed to consider fortunate to have a Tyler Bennett to look after their major interests.