_ CHAPTER XVII
Stafford smiled pleasantly when he saw the two women and only a close observer would have noticed that his greeting lacked its customary spontaneity and heartiness. He at once made himself particularly agreeable to Fanny; but, while he chatted and laughed with his sister-in-law, anyone could see that he studiously avoided addressing his wife directly or even meeting her eye. To one who knew him well, his manner would have seemed unusually nervous and embarrassed.
The truth was that Robert Stafford felt very much of a fool. If he did not dare look Virginia in the face this morning it was because he was heartily ashamed of himself. He had only a faint recollection of what had happened the previous evening, but Virginia's coolness at breakfast had told him enough. It hurt his pride to think that he, who prided himself on being able to control thousands of workmen, failed utterly when it came to a question of controlling himself. That Virginia resented his conduct of the night before was very apparent. She was deeply offended and no doubt hated him. What would she do? Would this little domestic storm blow over as the others had done before or would there be a tremendous row, ending in no one knew what? The best plan was to appear as unconcerned as possible and leave matters to shape themselves. Looking round he asked:
"Has Jimmie gone?"
"Yes!" replied Fanny. Quickly she added: "He was a little bit worried though because--"
"Worried--why?" he demanded.
"Oh, nothing!"
The millionaire looked searchingly at his sister-in-law. Imperatively he demanded:
"Why was he worried? Tell me--I insist!"
"Well, he was afraid you might forget your promises."
"Promises?"
"Those you made last night."
Stafford stared, as if trying to comprehend.
"Promises! Oh, yes--of course!"
"If you didn't really mean them--" went on Fanny.
"But I did," he interrupted hastily. "Most certainly I did," he stammered. He stopped for a moment as if trying to recollect and then went on: "I meant everything I said--but I don't quite remember what it was."
Virginia shrugged her shoulders. Caustically she said:
"Part of it was a car which you promised to send to-day as a present for my little niece."
Stafford's face brightened. If liberality could make amends for the night before he was willing to do anything.
"Of course!" he exclaimed quickly. "She's been looking rather pale and I wanted her to get out in the open more. Fine! I'll arrange about it before I leave!"
"And you raised James' salary fifty dollars a week," said Fanny timidly.
"Naturally! Naturally!" he exclaimed, "to pay for the chauffeur and the upkeep. If I increase Jimmie's expenses, it's only fair that I should fix his salary so that he can meet them."
His sister-in-law went up to him. Eagerly she said:
"Then you did mean it really? It wasn't only a--a--I mean you didn't do it just because you were--you were--well--you did?"
He nodded and with a smile he replied:
"I made up my mind about it early in the week, but I told you a little sooner than I expected--that's all."
Fanny's face was radiant with happiness.
"Oh, Robert," she cried, "it's just lovely of you! You don't know how much we shall enjoy it."
"Is that all I promised?" he laughed. "I didn't agree to make Jimmie superintendent or anything?"
"No, that was all. It was enough, too."
Stafford turned to his wife.
"Dearie?"
"Yes," she answered coldly.
"Do you mind 'phoning for Oku to bring some ice-water?"
"Not at all."
Going to the 'phone on the wall, she took off the receiver and spoke into it.
"Hello! Have Oku bring some ice-water."
"I've got a terrible headache," he went on. "The man who drinks too much is a fool--" Looking towards Virginia, who stood silently by, he added:
"You don't have to say anything--I know you agree with me. And quite right too! I'm ashamed of myself."
Fanny discreetly went towards the door.
"I--I think I'll go," she said timidly.
"Don't go," he pleaded. "Please stay awhile and give me your moral support." Glancing at his wife, he added ruefully: "I feel that I'm going to need it."
Fanny halted and at that moment there was a knock at the door.
"Come in," said Virginia.
Oku entered with a pitcher o£ ice water and glasses. Salaaming low, he said:
"Excuse--please, Excuse!"
The butler filled a glass and offered it to Virginia, but she shook her head. He then offered it to Fanny, who also declined.
"Not them," smiled Stafford, "me!"
Draining the glass he handed it back.
"Anything else?" asked the man politely.
"No."
"Then excuse, please! Excuse."
The butler apologetically picked up his tray and started to go when his master stopped him.
"Here!"
Oku stopped, and his master made a sign to him to put the tray and ice-water on the table again.
"You want me leave water?"
"Yes!"
The butler placed the tray on the table.
"Anything else, sir?"
"No."
"Then excuse, please! Excuse!"
Oku withdrew and Fanny approached her sister, who was seated at the window idly gazing into the street. Stafford rose and joined them.
"Well, dear?" he stammered nervously.
"Now I--I must go!" exclaimed Fanny.
"Please!" pleaded Stafford, motioning her not to desert him.
"But the baby," exclaimed his sister-in-law.
"Oh, come!" he laughed. "Don't desert a comrade in distress."
"But she might need me--really she might. So--excuse me."
She hurried away and for some minutes after she had gone there was complete silence. Virginia made no movement and Stafford, afraid to begin talking, contented himself by watching her. At last, unable to keep up the artificial restraint any longer he said:
"Dearie, before you say a word I want to tell you that I'm sorry for the condition I was in when I came home last night. I'm dreadfully sorry, and ashamed--"
She did not turn round and for a moment she made no reply. He thought she had not heard. Then, coldly, she said:
"Do you know what you said to me?"
He advanced closer and, in the most apologetic manner possible, went on:
"Sweetheart, I was drunk last night and I'm sorry. I'm ashamed--and I apologize! I've got a dreadful head this morning and I'm as nervous as I can be! So don't bother me any more than you have to, will you, dearie? Be nice to me this morning. Come on now, dearie, be nice to me!"
She rose from her chair and confronted him. Her face was pale and determined looking. There was no love in it now, nothing but the expression of a woman who had been hurt in her most sensitive feelings. Slowly, deliberately, in tones that cut him like a knife, she said:
"Last night you said that you had
bought and paid for me!"
"But I've explained, haven't I?" he protested. "I've said that I'm ashamed, and I've apologized. Can I do any more? You don't know how nervous I am to-day--nor how I feel! I can't stand these rackets like I used to. Be a dear, good, sweet, little girl and don't scold me. Please dearie, please!"
"You said that you had
bought and
paid for me!" she repeated icily, with emphasis on the last words.
"But, sweetheart--"
Bitterly she went on:
"It isn't the first time you have said it either. And the dreadful thing about it is--that it's true!"
"But it isn't true," he protested.
She half turned away from him, unwilling that he should see the tears that had started to her eyes.
"Yes--it is true enough," she said half hysterically. "If you hadn't been rich--I should not have married you--because I didn't feel towards you--then--as a girl should feel towards the man she is to marry."
"Virginia!" he cried, making a stride forward.
She drew back as she replied coldly:
"You know it, and last night you told me of it."
"But last night--"
"And so the fact remains that you did buy me!" Pointing to the boxes of jewels heaped high on the table, she went on: "And these are the things you bought me with! These are the things you bought me with--I give them all back to you!"
"Virginia!" he cried appealingly.
Calmly she went on:
"You bought me, but you didn't buy my self-respect. And no matter what happens I am going to keep that."
"It's the last thing in the world that I'd have you lose," he said with some show of emotion.
"Then why do you try to rob me of it? Why did you come to me--as you did last night--and insult and degrade me?"
"I'm sorry, dear."
"So you have told me before! And I've cried--and suffered--and forgiven you--and prayed that it would never happen again. And now, dear, I'm not going to cry any more, and it won't happen again."
He looked at her inquiringly--almost apprehensively.
"You--mean?" he stammered. She sank into a chair a little distance from him. The tears had disappeared from her eyes. She had recovered her self-possession. It was only a matter of business which they had to discuss now. Calmly she continued:
"I mean that we have got to have a definite and explicit understanding. I refuse to remain in a position where you can humiliate me as you have done. What must I think of myself if I do? I ask you, Robert, what must I think of myself?" He said nothing and after a short pause she went on: "A good woman must retain her respect for herself--she must know in her heart that she is sweet and fine; if she doesn't what is there left for her? There are just two ways in which I can keep my self respect--and I'm going to keep it--two and only two. One is this--you must promise me now that you will never touch drink again."
He was silent for a moment as if weighing the exact meaning of her words and their significance; then gravely he replied:
"I'm not sure that I could keep such a promise. I'll agree though to try--"
She shook her head.
"No, dear--that won't do. How many times already have you agreed to try and how many times have you failed? You can stop if you wish. You are not a weakling. You're a big man, a strong man. You can stop if you wish and you must promise me that you will or--I--"
"Or what?" he demanded.
"Or I shall take the only other course open to me and--leave you."
"Leave me!"
"Yes."
He looked at her curiously as if trying to see if she really meant what she said. He could hardly believe that she was serious. Rising, he went towards her, and bending over her said gravely:
"Let me get this straight. You say I must promise that I will never take another drink or you'll leave me. Is that it?"
"Yes."
"Your mind is made up?"
"Yes."
"Then it's an ultimatum?"
"Yes."
"And you want an answer here and now?"
"Yes."
"Very well, then, you shall have it. I won't promise."
His answer came upon her like a shock. She had expected that he would agree to anything, but he actually defied her.
"Robert!" she cried despairingly.
"I can't be driven and I won't be bullied," he said doggedly. "No man, by holding a revolver to my head, can force me to do anything I don't want to do, nor can any woman either--not even you."
As he spoke, her face grew a little paler, the lines about her mouth deepened. If that was the way he chose to look upon their relations, the sooner the end came the better.
"Very well," she said coldly.
She had turned as if to go to her room when he again spoke:
"Besides, there has to be a head of every family Just as there had to be a head of every business, and so long as I have any family I am going to be the head of it! If I had a partner and he came to me and said 'Do this thing or I quit you,' whether the thing was right or wrong, I'd say, 'Go ahead. Quit.' Because if I didn't, from that moment on, he, not I, would be the boss! So it is with us."
"Then I--am to--go," she said slowly.
"That is for you to say. But if you do go, remember that it is of your own volition. I want you to stay--you understand?"
She made no answer and he went on:
"One thing is certain. You can't think very much of me, or you couldn't even think of leaving me like this--"
"It is because I do love you," she cried hysterically, "that I must leave you. You don't understand that now but, oh! how I hope that some day you will. Good-bye!"
She went toward the dressing table as if to get her hat and coat. He halted her with a gesture.
"Just a minute, dear."
She stopped.
"Well?"
Approaching her, he said kindly:
"You are doing a very foolish thing."
She shook her head.
"I'm doing the right thing."
"I don't think so. Aside from marrying her husband, leaving him is the most serious step a woman can take. Serious steps should be given great consideration."
"I have considered this," she replied gravely.
"But not enough."
"Oh, yes, I have."
"In the first place you know that since you came into my life I haven't given any other woman even a thought. You know that, don't you?"
"Yes."
"In the next place you are leaving me! I am not leaving you. My home is still open to you and I want you for my wife--"
He stopped and looked at her as if expecting her to say something, but she was silent and he went on:
"Of course under any circumstances I shall see you are well provided for."
Virginia made a gesture of dissent.
"Oh, no!" she cried.
"You mean that you wouldn't take-any allowance?"
"Yes! I came to you with nothing--that is what I'll take away."
"Now do be a sensible little woman," he said coaxingly. "If you won't take anything from me, where are you to go, what are you to do?"
"You seem to forget that I managed to live before I met you!"
"You would try to do as you did then?"
"Why not?"
"Because it's impossible--absolutely impossible."
"I don't think so."
He made an impatient gesture as if any such action were unthinkable.
"Come now, dearie, get all such foolish thoughts out of your head. The idea is absurd, ridiculous."
"Why?" she demanded.
"Among other reasons is the fact that I wouldn't let you."
"How can you prevent me? You can't keep me a prisoner here and you can't force me to take your money unless I wish to take it. You see?"
"The idea is preposterous, I tell you. You couldn't voluntarily go back and live as you did before. It isn't in human nature."
"I can try."
"And if you do, you'll fail. And I'll tell you why! When we met you were earning ten or twelve dollars a week."
"Ten," she corrected.
"On that you had to live and provide yourself with everything. You had a little room in Harlem and used to hang on to a strap every morning and night when you went to and from your work."
"Yes."
"And now you've had the touring car in the summer and the limousine in the winter; when the weather was cold you had your furs, when it was warm you had the yacht! Since we were married you have had every luxury that money could give and luxury gets in the blood, my dear. Luxury gets in the blood! It's got into mine! Could I, of my own free will, go back and live as I used to live and be satisfied? Certainly not! No more can you!"
"I can try," she said doggedly.
"Don't try," he pleaded. "Please don't! You're a dear, fine, sensible, high-minded little woman, but you weren't made to fight against such odds, and if you try it you'll fail. It's inevitable."
"Just the same I'm going to try it."
Her words were final. There was no recalling them. She was determined upon a separation. So be it, he thought to himself. He was as proud, as obstinate as she was. If she insisted on leaving him, he would not argue with her any longer. Sternly he said:
"Then mark my words--you'll either send for me or you'll come back to me."
"I won't, I tell you!" she retorted with spirit.
"That's what you think now."
"And it's what I shall always think!" she cried. "Send for you after last night? Come back to you and these same conditions? Never! Never!"
Once more he softened. He could not forget in a moment's anger what they had been to each other. Appealingly he said:
"Listen to me for just a minute, dear. You don't realize what you are undertaking. You don't know what you propose to do. Please, please don't do anything that is going to bring you so much misery and unhappiness. Think it over a little while and then perhaps--"
"My mind is made up," she said firmly.
Going to her dressing table, she picked up her hat and placed it on her head. Again he tried to dissuade her.
"Dearie!"
"I am quite decided, I tell you," she said firmly, putting on her hat.
"Don't do it, Virginia, don't do it!" he cried. "Remember, if you leave me like this you will have to come to me or it will be--forever."
"Then it will be forever!" she said decisively. "I won't be degraded and humiliated! I won't be told that I was bought and paid for! You've been able to say it up to now, but you'll never be able to say it again!" Pointing to the jewels she added: "There they are! I give them all back to you."
She stopped and suddenly noticed the rings she was wearing. They, also, were a present from him. With a subdued exclamation she muttered:
"I had almost forgotten these!"
Taking the gems off her fingers one by one, she laid them on the table before him. Her wedding ring still remained on her finger. That she hesitated to remove. She looked from the ring to her husband and made a movement as if about to remove it. Stafford, in his distress, made a supplicating gesture.
"Don't do that!" he cried
"Why not?" she replied coldly. "Since it's to be forever, why not?"
Taking off the wedding ring she placed it on the table with the others and left the room, closing the door behind her.
After she had gone Stafford went to the table, picked up the ring and softly read the inscription to himself:
"'
From Robert to Virginia, with eternal love!' Eternal love!" he echoed bitterly to himself. "What irony!"
Slipping the ring into his pocket he stood for a time as if in deep thought. Then going to the telephone, he quickly unhooked the receiver.
"Hello! Give me Madison, 74. Hurry! Hurry! Is this Burley's Detective Agency? Is Mr. Burley there? Oh, is that you, Burley? This is Robert Stafford. I want the best man you have to meet me at my office in half an hour. Yes--your very best. What? No, no! I don't want him to watch anyone; I want him to protect someone. In half an hour, remember."
Replacing the telephone on the desk, he remained seated, and drawing from his pocket the wedding ring he gazed at it murmuring to himself:
"With eternal love!" _