_ CHAPTER XVI
Daylight filtered slowly through the closed blinds of the palatial Stafford home. Through the dark nocturnal hours its inmates--master, guests and servants, had slumbered peacefully, all but one and to her sleep refused to come. Hysterical, mentally overwrought, physically exhausted from continual weeping, Virginia had tossed feverishly on her pillow until at last dawn had mercifully come to dispel the terrors of the long night.
As she lay there in the darkness, she had tried to see some way out of her misery. The truth was out at last. He had admitted it openly, had even boasted of it. He had bought her and paid for her. He considered her not as a wife, a companion to respect and love, but as a creature whom he had purchased and who must do his bidding at his command. What ignominy! There was only one thing a self-respecting woman could do in such circumstances. She must boldly assert her independence and leave him, no matter at what sacrifice of her comfort and happiness. It would be better to undergo any privation rather than endure such suffering, such degradation as this.
She could earn her own living. Perhaps she could get back the same position at the hotel, and if Fanny and Jim would have her, she could go and live with them. It would mean the sacrifice of many luxuries and much pride, but at least she would be able to lift up her head and look all decent people squarely in the face again. She would give him back all his jewels--every one. Much as she loved them, she would return them all--the diamond sunburst, the pearl necklace, the ruby cross--everything. They were the things he had bought her with. Hadn't he said so? Maybe it was true that she had married him only for his money. Well, if it was true, this was her punishment, the cross she must carry for her wickedness, and it was also why she must leave him. She would never give him another opportunity to accuse her of having bartered away her self-respect.
What should she say to him at breakfast? No doubt he would be very penitent and full of apologies. No matter what he might say, her mind was made up. She would listen in silence, and, breakfast over, begin to make her preparations for departure. Fanny, of course, must be told everything, but not yet. There was plenty of time to tell her. The rupture would interfere, no doubt, with Jimmie's prospects, but it could not be helped. She could not be expected to go on suffering for their sake. They must all try and get along without the assistance of the rich Mr. Stafford. He would respect them the more if they did.
Everything occurred just as she had foreseen. Stafford woke with a terrific headache and thoroughly ashamed of himself. He had no distinct remembrance of the happenings of the evening before, but that he was drunk and had made a fool of himself he was pretty well sure. If he had not been, Virginia's cold demeanor would have soon enlightened him. At the breakfast table he mumbled an apology and tried to awaken some sympathy for his headache. But his wife paid no attention and beyond the merest commonplaces, made no attempt at conversation whatever and the meal ended as it began, in icy silence.
After breakfast she went to her room and, ringing for Josephine, ordered her to get out her blue cloth walking suit. The maid opened wide her eyes in surprise. Her mistress did not usually go walking so early.
"Madame va se promener de si bonne heure?"
"Don't ask questions, Josephine," replied her mistress sharply. "Do as I tell you. I'm going out of town. Pack my two trunks at once."
"Oui, Madame."
While the girl hurried to carry out her instructions, Virginia went to her safe, opened it, and, taking out the jewel cases one by one, carried them into the library, where she piled them high on the table. Soon there was quite a large heap of dainty boxes of every shape and color, each bearing the trademark of a fashionable jeweller. For a full hour the young wife worked steadily, packing and dressing, until at last nothing more remained to be done.
"Is that everything?" she asked Josephine, pointing to the boxes of jewelry on the table.
"Oui, Madame! All except those in the safe deposit vault, Madame."
"Oh, yes--I'll give you an order. You will go for them," said her mistress, going to a desk.
"Oui, Madame."
Virginia was just writing the order on the Safe Deposit Company when there came a knock on the boudoir door. The maid went to answer.
"Shall I open, Madame?"
"Yes."
The girl opened the door and Fanny entered, fresh and buoyant after a good night's sleep.
"Good morning!" exclaimed the newcomer cheerfully.
"Good morning, dear," replied Virginia quietly as she finished the note and put it in an envelope. Handing it to Josephine, she said quietly: "Give that to John."
"Oui, Madame."
The girl took the note and left the room. Fanny looked inquiringly at her sister. There was something in her manner which she did not like. At last she said hesitatingly:
"I'm so sorry about last night, dear."
"Don't, please!" said Virginia, quickly raising her hand.
"Have you seen him this morning?"
"No."
"Then you don't know how he is?"
"Oh, yes, I do."
"How do you know?"
"Previous experience," said Virginia bitterly.
Fanny took both her sister's hands in hers and gently drew her to her breast as a mother, full of gentle pity, would caress and console an unhappy child. For a moment Virginia tried to keep back the flood of tears that were choking her utterance, but the effort was too great and suddenly, with a stifled moan of distress, she broke into a torrent of passionate weeping.
Her sister made no attempt to quiet her. She felt it would be useless. All she did was to stroke her beautiful hair and murmur:
"Don't cry, dear, everything will be all right."
In broken sentences, interrupted every now and then by renewed weeping, Virginia cried:
"I'm so unhappy--dear--so unhappy--you will never know. This thing is not of yesterday--I've endured it so long--until I could stand it no longer. He despises me--he said he did. He bought me--and paid for me. How can he have anything but contempt for me?"
"What did he do or say?" demanded Fanny, at a loss what to advise. "What does he say this morning? Have you spoken to him?"
Virginia, more calm, shook her head.
"No--I've scarcely exchanged a word with him. He can't definitely recall what he said or did, but he is thoroughly repentant and ashamed."
"That's something anyway," said Fanny encouragingly.
Virginia shook her head. Doubtfully she asked:
"Is it--when it gives no guarantee for the future?"
Fanny was silent. There are some crises in a woman's life when even a sister cannot advise, when a woman must decide for herself. Slowly she said: "But after all's said and done, dear--he is your husband and that makes everything right, doesn't it?"
"No," retorted Virginia bitterly, "it merely makes it legal."
"Legal?"
"Yes, lecherous old men of eighty marry girls in their teens--but does that make their relations right? Avaricious young men in their twenties marry women in their fifties. Does marriage make their relations right? In some States white women can marry black men--marry them just as properly as you and I are married--but does marriage make their relations right? No, marriage merely makes them legal."
"Do you mean to tell me that if a woman has a marriage certificate--"
"Precisely. She has documentary evidence that she is lawfully entitled to live with a man--that's all. A marriage certificate has nothing to do with the morality of marriage! Nothing!"
"Then what has?"
"Love--and self-respect," said Virginia. "The legal thing isn't always the right thing, and if I am ever forced to choose between what is legal and what is right I shall choose what is right."
"Are you going to do--anything?"
"What can I do?"
"I don't know," stammered Fanny. She was rather afraid of her impulsive little sister. She might do something rash--something that would hurt them all. Anxiously she said:
"And yet I feel that you are going to do something. Aren't you?"
Virginia made no reply and she repeated:
"Tell me--whatever it is--promise that you won't do anything rash."
"I can promise that freely enough," replied Virginia with a sad smile.
"I'm so glad!" exclaimed Fanny with a gesture of relief and starting forward to embrace her sister.
Virginia raised her hand. Quickly she said:
"And you--you too, must promise me something."
"What?"
"Promise me whatever happens, that you will never tell Jimmie about--Robert--and me."
"Very well."
"If you do, I shall never forgive you! Never!"
"I won't."
"Whatever happens--remember!"
"Then something is going to happen?" demanded Fanny.
"That depends," said Virginia evasively.
"Oh, I'm so worried!" exclaimed Fanny. "I couldn't sleep last night for thinking about you. I was so nervous that I kept James awake too. I'm glad you're not going to do anything rash."
Before Virginia could reply there came a loud knock at the door.
"Come in!" cried Virginia.
The door opened and Jimmie entered, cheerful and debonair as usual.
"Morning, Virgie!" he chuckled.
"Good morning," she replied gravely.
"Just dropped in to say good-bye before I hike along."
"I'm glad you did," she smiled amiably.
"We've had a bully little visit." Turning to his wife, he said: "Haven't we, Fanny?"
"Yes, indeed," she smiled.
"Great finish too," he chuckled, "what with my raise and the car."
"Yes, isn't that fine?" chimed in his wife.
"I hope it's a late model," he went on, scratching his head. "I hate those old-fashioned things!"
"I'll be satisfied with any kind of a car," laughed Fanny.
"So will I--in a way," he said. "But I hate folks to think I'm not up to date." Turning to Virginia he added: "If Robert's ready we can go down together. Is he?"
Shaking her head, she said quietly:
"I don't think so."
He laughed loudly.
"I didn't expect he would be after last night's illumination! He was 'full' all right--circuited from tower to basement! On the level, he was so lit up that if every light on his machine had gone out the cops couldn't have said a word!"
"James! Keep still!" whispered his wife, giving her sister a significant glance.
"Why?" he exclaimed surprised. "Is there anything criminal in a man getting tanked up once in a while?"
Fanny colored with vexation. Angrily she said: "Take my advice--don't you ever try it!"
"And if I should," he demanded defiantly, "what can you do about it?"
"The husband's unanswerable question," smiled Virginia sadly, "what can you do about it?"
"Sure! What can you?" he repeated.
"I'll tell you what I'd do," cried Fanny, warming up. "I'd leave you at once."
Virginia started and looked thoughtfully at her sister, as if her words but echoed a determination that was in her own heart.
"Yes, you would!" he sneered.
"Yes, I would," she cried hotly. "I wouldn't stand for any drunken husband. I'd leave him so quick that--that--"
She stopped abruptly, realizing what her words meant to one very dear to her. Virginia said nothing, but rising, walked to the other side of the room.
"That what?" demanded Jimmie.
"Nothing!" replied his wife crossly.
"You needn't worry, anyway," he continued, "I just can't stand the stuff. Give me three drinks and next morning my head's full of Roman candles. Huh! Not for mine, thank you!"
"I'm glad of it," said Fanny, with a sigh of relief.
Jimmie chuckled. With a side glance at his sister-in-law he exclaimed in an undertone: "Gee! But I'd like to be here when he comes in. I wonder what he'll say."
"He won't remember anything about it."
"Oh, that's the kind, is it--one of those convenient, witness stand, I-have-no-recollection things, eh! Well, you take it from me, that's the best kind to have. You can agree to any old thing and not remember it, you can make all kinds of promises and then forget 'em. You can--Say!"
The young man suddenly gasped and turned pale. Fanny, alarmed, started forward, thinking he was ill.
"What's the matter?" she exclaimed, anxiously.
"Good Lord!" he cried, "suppose he should forget about my raise!"
Reassured, his wife laughed nervously. Crossly she said:
"How you frightened me!" Quickly she said: "Oh, Robert won't forget about that."
A determined, defiant expression came into her husband's face as he went on:
"You can just bet he won't while I have the power of speech. He won't come that 'I--can't--recall' gag on me."
"Of course not," said Fanny soothingly.
Anxiously he continued:
"I've calculated exactly what I'd do with that extra fifty. I reckoned that after we'd paid the chauffeur and for the gasoline and things we'd have about twenty left, so I figured we'd be able to leave a Hundred and Fortieth Street and move down town to a Hundred and Twenty-fifth. Then I'd pictured old McLoughlin's face when he'd heard I'd got another raise and what he'd look like every morning when I drove to the office in my own car. And I'd picked out the places we'd go to for the next four Sundays--yes, and a lot of other things too."
"How did you find the time?"
"I had plenty of time last night, after we went to bed and you kept me awake by doing your grand combined kicking and contortion act. You take it from me--every time you get one of your restless fits, you smash all world's records for landing sudden and violent kicks in unexpected places."
Fanny laughed good-humoredly.
"Can I help it if I'm a little nervous once in a while?" she said.
"Of course not, and I don't blame you for it, but that doesn't give me back my sleep, does it?" Taking out his watch he added: "I've got to skin. I'll be a bit late as it is and McLoughlin's sure to be there waiting for me with a few pleasant words."
He stooped to kiss his wife.
"Good-bye, dear!" he said. "Get home early so as to be sure the dinner's all right, won't you?"
"Yes, dear."
Hurriedly he went on:
"If it's O.K. about the car, have Virgie's chauffeur drive you home and leave it in front of the building where the neighbors can get a peek at it. I'll arrange about the garage when I get back."
"Very well."
Waving his hand, he made his way toward the door:
"Then good-bye. If we don't get that machine now after it being promised to us, after all the figuring I've done on it, it'll be hell, that's what it'll be--just hell!"
He disappeared and Fanny rose from her seat to go in search of her sister. She looked for her in the adjoining room but she was not there. Wondering where she could be, she went out into the hall and called:
"Virgie--Virgie!"
Virginia entered from the bedroom where she had been busy packing some things. Running up to her, Fanny said quickly:
"You know I didn't mean what I said about leaving him."
Virginia looked steadily at her without answering. There was a moment's pause during which each sister looked at the other, as if trying to read her most secret thoughts. Finally, the younger one said:
"You didn't really?"
"No--honest, I didn't. I don't think I could leave him, no matter what he did. I love him! And you love Robert, don't you?"
"Yes."
"Well, a woman couldn't deliberately leave the man she loves, could she?"
Virginia made no reply and, anxiously, Fanny demanded again.
"Could she?"
Virginia nodded. Slowly she said:
"I think a woman might--and be justified in it."
"Even if she loved him?"
"No matter how much she loved him."
Fanny was about to protest when there came a knock at the door, and Josephine entered, laden with jewel boxes of all sorts and sizes.
"These are all but the ruby cross, Madame. That is at the jeweller's. John showed me the receipt for it."
"Yes, I remember," said Virginia hurriedly.
The girl placed the boxes on the table near the other jewels.
"Aren't they beautiful!" exclaimed Fanny enthusiastically. Quickly she asked: "Which is your favorite?"
"The pearls," replied Virginia quietly.
Going to the table, the elder sister opened some of the boxes and took the jewels in her hand admiringly.
"They must have cost a fortune!" she went on ecstatically. "This is the first time I've seen them together. They're simply great!"
Josephine turned to address her mistress.
"Will Madame go out this morning?"
Virginia nodded.
"Probably."
"What furs will Madame wear?"
"None. Bring my cloth coat and the hat that goes with it."
"Oui, Madame."
Fanny was still standing spellbound before the table, feasting her eyes on the valuable collection of costly gems.
"If these were mine," she went on enthusiastically, "I'd have them out and count 'em up every day. They'd have no chance to get away from me! My, but they're stunning! Robert's very good to you, isn't he?"
"Very," replied her sister dryly.
Picking up a diamond solitaire ring and examining it, Fanny asked:
"This was his first present, wasn't it?"
"Yes."
"Do you remember how scared we both were that somebody might break into the room and steal it and how we used to hide it under the mattress every night and take it out again when we got up?"
Virginia nodded. With averted face she said:
"Yes--I remember."
"And the morning we were in a hurry and forgot it till we were on the car! I can see you now, reaching for the bell and then getting off the wrong way. And how you did run! If you had gone in the ladies' race at the Shipping Clerks' Annual Picnic and had run as fast as that, you'd have won the genuine tortoise-shell side combs sure!"
Virginia smiled in spite of herself. Quietly she replied:
"I suppose I was excited. It was the first piece of real jewelry I had ever owned."
"And now see what you've got!"
Virginia remained silent and her sister opened another box. Taking out a superb necklace of pearls, she held it up admiringly.
"This was his wedding present! I remember you tried it on at least fifty times the first night you had it! I did the same with Jimmie's. It was a horse-shoe--that big!--of near-diamonds. I never wear it now, but I wouldn't part with it for the world."
Virginia smiled.
"Jimmie's a pretty good husband, isn't he?" she said.
"Yes, indeed. He's stubborn at times--and cranky--and selfish--and wants everything his own way, but he's pretty good as husbands go! And then--we've got the baby."
At that moment Josephine re-entered with the coat and hat which she put down on a chair near the dressing table.
"Anything else, Madame?"
"No, Josephine, you needn't wait."
"Oui, Madame."
When the girl had left the room Fanny said:
"Josie's an awfully nice girl. Where did you get her?"
Before her sister could answer the question the door opened and the master of the house entered. _