Mrs. Balfame Part 28

"That means he's rehea.r.s.ed her," whispered Miss Lauretta Lea, who had reported many trials, to Miss Tracy, who was a novice. "But that's all right."

"Well, I suppose I should begin with the scene at the Club--that is to say, I do not care to speak of it in detail,--quite aside from a natural regard for good taste,--but it seems to have been given a unique importance."

"Just so," said Miss Austin encouragingly. "Do let us have your version.

The public simply longs for it."

"Well--I should tell you first that, although my husband was sometimes irritable, he really was a good husband and we never had any vulgar quarrels. It was only when he was not quite himself that he sometimes said more than he meant, and he never quite forgot himself as he did that day out at the Country Club.

"I was playing bridge in one of the smaller rooms when I heard his voice pitched in a very excited key. I knew that something unusual had occurred, and went out into the large central room at once. There I saw him at the upper end of the room surrounded by several of the men, who were apparently trying to induce him to leave. He was shouting and saying such extraordinary things that my first impression was that he was ill or had lost his mind.

"I reasoned with him, and as it did no good and as I was deeply hurt and mortified, I left him to the men and returned to the bridge-room.

There, in spite of the kindness of my friends, I found I was too overcome to play, and Dr. Anna Steuer offered to drive me home. That is all, as far as the scene at the clubhouse is concerned, except that I cannot sufficiently emphasise that he never had acted in a similar manner before. If he had, I should not have continued to live with him--not that I should have obtained a divorce, for I do not approve of the inst.i.tution; but I should have moved out. I have a little money of my own, left me by my father."

"Ah--yes. Thanks. And after you were in your own house? Do you mind? Of course, we have read the story you told the men, but we should like our own story. Perhaps you may have thought of some other points since."

"Yes, there are one or two. I had entirely forgotten in the agitation of that time that I went below, after packing my husband's suitcase, to get a drink of filtered water and thought I heard some one try the kitchen door. I also thought I heard some one upstairs, and called the name of my maid. Of course, a good deal will be made of this omission, but considering the terrible circ.u.mstances and the fact that I never had been interviewed before, I do not find it in the least remarkable.

"But, of course, you want me to begin at the beginning." And in her pleasant shallow voice, she told the story she had immediately concocted for her friends.

As Miss Austin asked a few questions in the endeavour to inject some essence of personality into the bald story, Rush permitted the sensation of dismay with which he had listened to take implacable form.

He never had heard a less convincing story on the witness stand. Mrs.

Balfame had talked glibly, far too glibly. It was evident to the least initiated that she had been rehea.r.s.ed. Was her mind really as colourless as her voice? Had she no sense of drama? He had hoped that the excitement of this interview, coming after weeks of supreme monotony, would kindle her to animation and a natural enrichment of vocabulary; and, witnessing its effect upon these friendly women, she would be encouraged to simulate both on the witness-stand. It was a pity, he reflected bitterly, that a woman who could lie to her counsel with such a fine front of innocence could not "put over" the large dramatic lie that would help him so materially in his difficult task.

Miss Austin, despairing of colour, made a shift with psychology. "Would you mind telling us, Mrs. Balfame, if you feel a very great dread of the trial? We realise that it must loom a terrible ordeal."

"Oh, of course, the mere thought of all that publicity horrifies me whenever I permit myself to think of it, but it has to be, and that is the end of it, since the real culprit will not come forward. But I feel confident I shall not break down under the strain. I might have done so if the trial had followed immediately upon my arrest, but all these weeks in jail have prepared me for anything."

"But you are not terrified--of--of the outcome? We know and rejoice that the chances are all in your favour, but men are so queer."

"I am not in the least terrified. It is impossible to convict an innocent woman in this country; and then"--inclining her head graciously to the watchful Rush,--"I have the first criminal lawyer in Brabant County to defend me. It is a detestable thought,--to be stared at in the courtroom as if I were an object in a museum,--but I shall keep thinking that in a few days at most it will be over and that I shall then return to the private life I love."

"Yes. And would you mind telling us something of your plans? Shall you continue to live in Elsinore?"

"I shall go far away, to Europe, if possible. I suppose I shall return in time. Of course" (in hasty afterthought) "I should not be contented for very long without my friends; they have grown to be doubly valuable--and valued--during this long term of incarceration. But I must travel for a while."

"That is quite natural. How normal you are, dear Mrs. Balfame!" It was Miss Lauretta Lea who spoke up with enthusiasm. "You are just a sweet, serene, normal woman who couldn't commit a violent act if you tried. Be sure the public shall see you as you are. I don't wonder your friends adore you. Don't mind being stared at. The more people that see you, the more friends you will have."

Her eyes moved to Rush, and she was rewarded by a smile that expressed relief. She was a very experienced reporter and knew exactly how he felt.

"And believe me," she said as they trooped down the stairs, having pa.s.sed before the Balfame throne and received a limp handshake of dismissal, "that poor man's worried half to death. He'll get about as much help from her on the stand as he would from a tired codfish. But she really is a divinely sweet woman and lovely to look at, and so I'll sob over her for all I'm worth and seclude from the cynical and the sentimental that she has distilled crystal in her veins."

"Did you ever know such a perfectly rotten interview!" Miss Austin was scowling fiercely. "The men did a thousand times better because they took her by surprise, but even they cursed her. I figure out she has made up her Friday Club mind to look the marble G.o.ddess minus every female instinct, including a natural desire to shoot a brute of a husband. But I wish she had brain enough to put it over with some pep.

She was afraid to be dramatic,--or couldn't be,--and so she was trying to be literary--"

"I don't agree with you!" And arguing and scolding, they wended their disapproving way over to the Dobton Inn and sat them down at tables to make the most of their bare material.

"No censorship needed here," growled Miss Austin. "She froze my very imagination."

CHAPTER XXVIII

Rush walked up and down the room for a few moments in silence. Mrs.

Balfame sat back and folded her hands. She was haunted by a vague sense of inefficiency, of having not quite risen to the occasion, but she felt there could be no doubt that she not only had impressed the reporters as an innocent woman but as a perfect lady. The rest didn't matter.

"Are you really not a bit nervous?" demanded Rush, swinging on his heel and confronting her.

"I will not permit myself to be. And except that I hate publicity, I really do not dread the trial. It means the beginning of the end of this detestable prison life. I want to be out and free. A week in a courtroom is not too heavy a price to pay."

"Have you ever been to a murder trial?"

"Of course not. Such a thing would never have occurred to me."

Rush sighed. She had no imagination. But as her counsel he reminded himself that he should be grateful for the lack; he wanted no scenes, either in the courtroom or here in the imminent hours. But he would have welcomed a little more feminine shrinking, appeal to his superior strength. Even when he had worshipped her from afar, she had never moved him so powerfully as on the day of her arrest when she had flung herself over the table in an abandonment to despair as complete as the most exacting male could wish. That incident had long since taken on the shifting outlines of a dream. If she had felt any tremors since then she had concealed them from him.

"Tell me," he asked almost wistfully, "are you not terribly frightened at times? You are alone here so much. And it has been an experience to try even a strong man's nerves."

"Women nowadays really have better nerves than men. We not only lead a far fuller and more varied life than our predecessors, but you men work at such a terrific strain that it is a wonder you retain any control of your nerves at all. I will admit that I did have attacks of fear at first. It was all so strange and odd. But I got over them. You can get used to anything, I guess. And I have a strong will. I just made myself think about something else. This war has been a G.o.dsend. Have you noticed my new maps? I've really read about twenty war books, besides all the editorials, and they have given me a distaste for lighter reading, and really developed my--my--intellect. That seems such a big word. And then I've knitted dozens of things for the children and soldiers, and felt as if I were of some use for the first time in my life."

She glanced at him shyly, as he stared through the bars of one of the windows. The suppressions of a lifetime made it impossible to betray any depth of feeling save under terrible stress. She was ashamed of her breakdown before him on the day of her arrest, but she was conscious of the wish that she were able to infuse her cool even tones with warmth, to make them tremulous at the right moment; but if she attempted to betray something of her newer self even in her eyes, self-consciousness overcame her and she dropped the lids almost in a panic.

She wondered if love broke down those cliffs of ice that seemed to encompa.s.s a new-born soul. Or was it merely that the other members of her personal company, mature, jealous, self-sufficient, resented the intrusion of this shrinking alien? They had got on quite well without it; they felt no yearning for possible complications, readjustments.

With all their quiet force they discouraged the stranger. Before any of the supreme experiences, including love, they might be routed, the new force might spring up in an instant like a flower from the magic soils of India--but not while the conventions bulwarked them. Their sum was Mrs. Balfame of Elsinore, and not for a moment did they permit themselves to forget it.

Moreover, it was quite true that she had conquered her first apprehensions and welcomed the trial as the initial step toward freedom.

Her poise had always been remarkable, the result in part of a self-centred life and a will driven relentlessly in a narrow groove.

More than ever was she determined to sit through those long days in the courtroom with the cold aloofness of the unfortunate women of history.

The very ascents she had made of secret and solitary heights alone would have restored her poise, for she felt on far more friendly terms with herself than when living with a wretch she loathed, and dreaming of no higher alt.i.tudes then complete success in Elsinore. But she wished for the first time that she were a younger woman, or had made those ascents many years ago; she would have liked to reveal herself spontaneously to this interesting young man who was so deeply in love with her.

Suddenly she wondered if he were as ardently in love with her as in that brief period when they had talked of themselves. Not loving him in return, she had been content with lip-service, the sure knowledge that all his fine abilities were at work upon the obstacles to her freedom; and she would have been deeply annoyed if he had broken the pact made on the day of her arrest and reiterated his devotion and his hopes.

But significant happenings--omissions--a certain flatness.... She turned her head sharply and looked at him. He was still staring moodily through the bars.

If far too diffident to show the best that was in her, she found it comparatively simple to practice the feminine art of angling, albeit with a somewhat heavy hand.

She asked softly: "Don't you think I did the wise thing to tell them I intended to travel as soon as I was acquitted? It surely would be in better taste than to settle down here--in that house!"

"Did you mean it? The intention would make a good impression on the public, certainly."

"Why, of course I meant it. I am not a good hand at saying things merely for effect."

"Where shall you go? Europe is rather impossible."

"Oh, not altogether. There is always Italy. And there is no danger from Zeppelins in the interior of Great Britain. And there is Spain--"

"I think Europe a very good place for women to keep away from until the war is over. Any of the nations may become involved at any minute--ourselves, for that matter. Better follow the advice of advertisers and see America first."