The Street of the City (16 page)

“Yes, I thought so, too, Val,” said Marietta with satisfaction in her face. “You see, Val, you’ve been seen skating with a girl from the other side of the river. They are saying that you picked her up, and implying that she picked you up, and you let her do it! And it doesn’t do the least bit of good to tell them that you wouldn’t do a thing like that. That I’ve known you all my life and you aren’t sordid and horrid like that. They say, ‘Oh, my dear, you don’t know men!’ ”

“Oh, really, Marietta? And who is this person or persons doing the talking? Anybody I know?” He said it in a casual tone as if it were a mere matter of indifference to him.

“Well, I don’t think it’s quite honorable in me to tell you who it was, but it was somebody that I knew told the truth. Somebody who was truly troubled that you should have done a thing like that, and she told me in the utmost confidence. She knew I was a friend of yours, and she felt I ought to know. She hoped I would be able to explain it, perhaps know who it was that you went skating with and so perhaps there was an explanation that would leave you without reproach.”

“And were you?” asked Willoughby, amused.

“Well, I told her I thought perhaps it might be one of your nieces home on a vacation from school, but she didn’t seem to believe that.”

“I see,” said Willoughby smiling. “Well, that was kind of you, of course. But it isn’t important, is it? It can’t do any harm, so perhaps we’d better forget it. It doesn’t seem worthwhile to bother about it, does it? Certainly not tonight when we are off on a pleasant evening.”

“Valiant Willoughby, how can you be so utterly indifferent to a thing like this? Why, I supposed you would indignantly deny it and demand that I help you do something about it. What do you mean?”

“Why, Marietta, what’s the idea? Am I not to go skating anymore or ever speak to a girl that you and your friends are not acquainted with? I can’t make out what awful thing I have done.”

“But did you go skating with that unspeakable girl?” Marietta’s big blue eyes searched his face with horror in her own.

“With what unspeakable girl?” he asked, amused. “What is there unspeakable about her? And if she is unspeakable, why do they speak about it?”

There was a real twinkle in Willoughby’s eyes now, and at one corner of his lips, and Marietta was enraged that he should take it so lightly. She felt that he was making a joke of it.

“Oh Val, you are impossible! You are perfectly maddening! You know why she is unspeakable. You know she comes from a little ratty house across the river, the other side of the river, Val, and that’s enough to make her impossible, if there weren’t anything else. No girl from that region would be a fit companion for you, Valiant Willoughby!”

“Why not?” asked the young man, looking imperturbably at the impeccable girl beside him.

“Do you have to ask? Don’t you realize that the mention of a girl from that side of the river implies ignorance, coarseness, boldness, irresponsibility, uncouthness, lack of culture, and of course entire lack of ethics, unwholesomeness, even uncleanness, immorality—”

“Stop!” said Willoughby. “That will be enough! The girl I know from the other side of the river is not like that! She is not any of those things you have mentioned. And as you have never seen her I don’t understand how you dare insult her by such talk.”

“I certainly have seen her,” said Marietta. “I have some pity on girls like that, even if you do carelessly make fools of them. I went to see her this evening, just before dinner. I wanted to let her know what danger she was running in picking up young men on the river just because she was a good skater. I told her that young men from the other side of the river had no serious intentions ever toward girls of her class who lived over there, and that she was likely to have her heart broken and lose not only her self-respect but her reputation. I told her that I was warning her for her own sake, and that I wanted to help her. I told her that people were already beginning to talk about her, and that it was a shame, because if she would behave herself everybody would be glad to help her to know a few right-minded young men of her own class, and that would be so much better for her.”

Marietta suddenly finished and Willoughby regarded her solemnly.

“You say you told her that?” he asked sternly.

“I certainly did,” said the girl vivaciously.

He was still a full minute, and then he asked, “And may I inquire what answer she gave to that?”

“She laughed!” said Marietta haughtily. “She was even ruder than I had expected her to be. She only laughed. So you can see what she is. She only laughed and went away.”

“Yes,” said Willoughby thoughtfully after even a longer pause, “I should think she would laugh. I think she answered you very wisely. I feel like laughing myself to know what you have done to one of the loveliest girls I have ever known.”

“Now Val Willoughby, you don’t mean that. You are just saying that because you are angry that I dared to call you on it, but I thought you ought to know just what people were saying about you. And now you are acting as if you didn’t care at all! I never dreamed that you would react this way. You must have greatly changed since I knew you.”

“Just how did you expect me to react, Marietta?”

“Well, I certainly thought you would be ashamed to think you had been caught and recognized. I expected you to be filled with repentance and give some plausible excuse about her being sick or poor or something and you thought you had to help her out some way, like you used to do with that scrubwoman’s child when you were an exasperating kid.”

“Oh! I see!” said Willoughby coolly. “But I’m not ashamed and I’m not repentant, and I do not feel that I have done anything disgraceful. So if people decide that I have, knowing nothing whatever about it except that they saw me skating with somebody they didn’t know, I think we can let it go at that and not talk any more about it, can’t we?”

“Well, I don’t think we can,” said Marietta. “I think that respectable people who had supposed you were one of their friends have a right to an explanation of your conduct.”

“Why?”

“Because you have gone against all our traditions in having anything to do with a girl on the other side of the river, exactly as if she were as good as anybody!”

“And yet you, Marietta, not knowing anything of the facts of the case, presumed to go into that girl’s home, and according to your own account of the affair, insult her! It seems to me that I have a right to demand an explanation of your conduct.”

“Oh, indeed! Well, Val Willoughby, I like that! I didn’t go there to insult her. I went there to help her. In fact, I began by inviting her to a series of dances where I told her she could meet young men of her own class who would be suitable mates for her. I tried to make her understand that all I was saying was for her own good.”

The young man looked at her in growing amazement.

“And she laughed, did she? Well, I’m glad she had the grace to do that after your insults. But now, suppose we forget all this and stop talking about it. We’ve almost reached the Academy of Music, and we certainly won’t be in any mood to enjoy the evening if we keep this up.”

“But aren’t you going to say you are sorry for having gone with that kind of girl? Or at least offer some sort of explanation for your conduct that I can tell people who are inquiring?”

“No,” said Willoughby, “I certainly am not. I did nothing out of the way. But even if I had it was none of their business!”

“Val! But you can’t stop people’s mouths by saying it is none of their business!”

“Perhaps not, but you don’t have to discuss the matter with them, and I do not intend to do so, not even through you as a go-between.”

“Oh Val!” exclaimed Marietta in a voice of despair. “How you have changed!”

“Now, look here, Marietta, are we on the way to a symphony concert to enjoy ourselves, or shall we go to a funeral parlor and see if we can find a place to mourn? I really haven’t time to waste a whole evening if you are going to carry on like this about something you know nothing about and is none of your affair. Come, Marietta, snap out of it, and let’s talk over the music we are going to hear.”

“Well, if you’ll promise me just one thing,” said the girl in a melting tone.

“Not till I know what it is,” he said in a matter-of-fact tone.

“Well, it’s that you won’t ever do this thing again.”

“What thing?”

“Why, that you won’t ever go skating with that outrageous girl again. That you will not have anything more to do with her in any way.”

“No,” said Val Willoughby sharply. “I will not promise that! If that is your condition you had better drop me off now. Perhaps you could take the tickets and find some more congenial companion to accompany you.”

But Marietta drove on to the entrance of the Academy of Music, her head high, her mouth wearing the martyr-like downdroop of one who forgives with great effort.

“I’m greatly disappointed in you, Val,” she said as the doorman came up to take the car to the parking space, “but I’ll forgive you, of course. You’re one of my oldest and dearest friends. But I’m grieved to death about you.” And with great obvious forbearance she took his arm and assumed her haughtiest stride.

Val Willoughby hesitated an instant as she took his arm, and then acceded to her evident wish to go on with their plans for the evening. But he walked silently with a stern, set expression, and wished with all his heart that he had never embarked upon this undesirable expedition. However, it had to be gotten through somehow, and he felt that before they took their seats it would be best to establish some neutral topic for the duration of their private war, or the concert. So as they stepped into the main hallway and began making their way to the door that led to the aisle where their seats were located, he bent his head and said in a low tone that could not be heard by the lively throngs around them, “I suggest, Marietta, if we are to go through with this evening as first planned, that we select some neutral topic for what conversation we are likely to have and confine ourselves to that. And since we are attending a concert of some of the finest program music that is to be heard anywhere, suppose we talk about that. The music and anything relating to it.”

“Oh, if you are going to be disagreeable,” said Marietta in her most martyr-like tone, “I suppose we can do that. Though I don’t see why you select such a dumb topic. You know I’m not awfully fond of music, and just because I thought it was my duty to try and show you what a great mistake you were making, you get angry and try to punish me by refusing to let me talk about anything I choose; I feel you are most discourteous. I didn’t think you were so touchy, Val Willoughby! Didn’t you want me to tell you the truth?”

“Not particularly,” answered the young man haughtily, “especially as most of the things you were saying were not true.”

She flashed an angry look on him immediately.

“I don’t care to discuss this matter any further this evening,” he went on. “Is that plain?”

“You’re just plain rude!” said Marietta, tossing her haughty head.

“Sorry,” said Willoughby. “I thought you were rather rude yourself. So you see it would be better to take a neutral topic. I’ve been reading some very interesting items about the symphony we are to hear. Would you care to have me tell them to you? Don’t you think that would be better than to spend the whole evening sulking?”

“Oh, I suppose so!” said Marietta in a furious tone. “But if you want my opinion I think you are acting like a spoiled boy!”

They walked the rest of the way to their very fine seats in utter silence. Willoughby had a grave, almost haughty look on his face, but he was utmost courtesy as he seated Marietta, adjusted her wraps, and provided her with a program. But Marietta still had an angry frown on her face distorting its beauty into anything but charm.

For the first few seconds after they were seated the young man applied himself to the study of the program and then quite casually began to speak about it.

“Have you read the description of the symphony?” he asked. “It certainly promises to be quite colorful.”

“No, of course not!” snapped Marietta. “I never do. Why waste time doing that? The music is supposed to give you the full idea, isn’t it? I never could see the sense of going to work to try to explain what it’s supposed to represent. I think it’s all nonsense anyway! As if a sound could represent people and emotions. You might as well try to explain a sky or a tree or any part of a landscape in words. It’s there, isn’t it? And what more do you want? Why be sentimental about it? I like practical things. This trying to mix literature up with art is ridiculous! It’s enough to listen to a long program without having to torture your brain trying to tell what it means. Of course it doesn’t mean anything but what your imagination makes it mean, and every person has a different idea of it. I think in these times of war they waste money printing a lot of stuff like that. It would be far better to save the money and the paper and put it into war bonds.”

“Yes?” said Willoughby, with an amused twinkle. “Well, that’s an angle I hadn’t thought of, but of course there might be something in it. Why don’t you put that in writing and send it to the Board of Directors? But—now that it is printed and put in your hands, don’t you think it is up to you to see that it isn’t wasted? What if you and I put it to a thorough test this evening and see if there is anything we can get out of it? Just read each description carefully beforehand and then listen with it in mind and see whether it makes the music any more enjoyable. Suppose we try it. Now this first movement. It starts with a darkening sky and wind blowing the grasses and the leaves on the trees, you can hear the rising wind and then comes the patter of the rain as it begins to fall—!”

Marietta looked at her escort in astonishment. This was a new phase of Val Willoughby, eloquent and fanciful. Why did he waste himself talking such foolish prattle as this?

“I think that’s fantastic!” she said with a sneer. But she listened and watched him while he talked, and finally forgot her annoyance at him in admiration of his handsome face. He certainly was the best-looking one of the old crowd of men. How well he would look in a uniform! What a pity he had allowed himself to be tied up to a stupid factory when he might be in some position of high command!