David Dunne Part 26

"We are on our way to California to spend the winter," she replied, in answer to his eager question, "and father proposed stopping here until after election."

"You come in and out of my life like a comet," he complained wistfully.

Mrs. Winthrop came in, smiling and charming as ever. She was very cordial to David, and interested in his campaign, but it seemed to him that she was a little too gracious, as if she wished to impress him with the fact that it was a concession to meet him on an equal social footing. For Mrs. Winthrop was inclined to be of the world, worldly.

"You have arrived at an auspicious time," he a.s.sured her. "To-night the Democrats will have the biggest parade ever scheduled for this city. Joe calls it the round-up."

"Oh, is Joe here?" asked Carey eagerly.

"Yes; and another friend of yours, Fletcher Wilder."

"I knew that he was here," she said, with an odd little smile.

"We had expected to see him in New York, and were surprised to learn he was out here," said Mrs. Winthrop.

"He came to help me in my campaign," informed David.

"Fletcher interested in politics! How strange!"

"His interest is purely personal. We were together in South America, you know."

"I am glad that you have a friend in him," said Mrs. Winthrop affably.

"The parade will pa.s.s here, and Fletcher is coming up, of course. Why not come up, too, if you can spare the time?"

"This is not my night," laughed David. "It's purely and simply a Democratic night. I shall be pleased to come."

"Bring Joe, too," reminded Carey.

When Mr. Winthrop came in David had no doubt as to the welcome he received from the head of the family.

"A man's measure of a man," thought David, "is easily taken, and by natural laws, but oh, for an understanding of the scales by which women weigh! And yet it is they who hold the balance."

"Fletcher and David and Joe are coming to-night to watch the parade from here," said Carey.

"You shall all dine with us," said Mr. Winthrop.

"Thank you," replied David, "but--"

"Oh, but you must," insisted Mrs. Winthrop, who always warmly seconded any proffer of hospitality made by her husband. "Fletcher will dine with us, of course. We can have a little dinner served here in our rooms. Write a note to Mr. Forbes, Carey."

The marked difference in type of her three guests as they entered the sitting room that night struck Mrs. Winthrop forcibly. Joe, lean and brown, with laughing eyes, was the typical frontiersman; Fletcher, quiet and substantial looking, with his air of culture and ease and his modulated voice, was the type of a city man; David--"What a man he is!" she was forced to admit as he stood, head uplifted in the white glare under the chandelier, the brilliant light shining upon his dark hair, and his eyes glowing like stars. His lithe figure, perfect in poise and balance, of virile strength that was toil-proof, wore the look of the outdoor life. His smile banished everything that was ordinary from his face and trans.m.u.ted it into a glowing personality.

His eyes, serious with that insight of the observer who knows what is going on without and within, were clear and steady.

The table was laid for six in the sitting room, the flowers and candles giving it a homelike look.

As Mrs. Winthrop listened to the conversation between her husband and David she was forced to admit that the young candidate for governor was a man of mark.

"I never knew a man without good birth to have such perfect breeding,"

she thought. "He really appears as well as Fletcher, and, well, of course, he has more temperament. If he could have been born on a different plane," thinking of her long line of Virginia ancestors.

She had ceded a great deal to her husband's and Carey's democracy, and reserved many an unfavorable criticism of their friends and their friends' ways with a tactfulness that had blinded their eyes to her true feelings. Yet David knew instinctively her standpoint; she partly suspected that he knew, and the knowledge did not disturb her; she intuitively gauged his pride, and welcomed it, for a suitor of the Fletcher Wilder station of life was more to her liking.

Carey led David away from her father's political discourse, and encouraged him to give reminiscences of old days. Joe told a few inimitable western stories, and before the cozy little meal was finished Mrs. Winthrop, though against her will, was feeling the compelling force of David's winning sweetness. The sound of a distant band hurried them from the table to the balcony.

"They've certainly got a fair showing of floating banners and transformations," said Joe.

As the procession came nearer the face of the hardy ranchman flushed crimson and his eyes flashed dangerously. He made a quick motion as if to obstruct David's vision, but the young candidate had already seen. He stood as if at bay, his face pale, his eyes riveted on those floating banners which bore in flaming letters the inscriptions:

"The father of David Dunne died in state prison!"

"His mother was a washerwoman!"

CHAPTER VI

The others were stricken into shocked silence which they were too stunned for the moment to break. It was Fletcher who recovered first, but then Fletcher was the only one present who did not know that the words had struck home.

"We mustn't wait another moment, David," he said emphatically, "to get out sweeping denials and--"

"We can't," said David wearily. "It is true."

"Oh," responded Fletcher lamely.

There was another silence. Something in David's voice and manner had made the silence still more constrained.

"I'll go down and smash their banners!" muttered Joe, who had not dared to look in David's direction.

Mr. Winthrop restrained him.

"The matter will take care of itself," he counseled.

It is mercifully granted that the intensity of present suffering is not realized. Only in looking back comes the pang, and the wonder at the seemingly pa.s.sive endurance.

Again David's memory was bridging the past to unveil that vivid picture of the patient-eyed woman bending over the tub, and the pity for her was hurting him more than the cruel banner which was flaunting the fact before a jeering, applauding crowd.

Mrs. Winthrop gave him a covert glance. She had great pride in her lineage, and her well-laid plans for her daughter's future did not include David Dunne in their scope, but she was ever responsive to distress.

Before the look in his eyes every sensation save that of sympathy left her, and she went to him as she would have gone to a child of her own that had been hurt.

"David," she said tenderly, laying her hand on his arm, "any woman in the world might be glad to take in washing to bring up a boy to be such a man as you are!"

Deeply moved and surprised, he looked into her br.i.m.m.i.n.g eyes and met there the look he had sometimes seen in the eyes of his mother, of M'ri, and once in the eyes of Janey. Moved by an irresistible impulse, he stooped and kissed her.

The situation was relieved of its tenseness.