The Empty Sack Part 17

"Made me go and get a license and marry him. He said"-her lips and tongue were so parched that it was hard to form the words-"he said he was going away in a few days to South America, and that he couldn't go unless he knew I was his wife. I begged him to let me off, but he-he wouldn't. Oh, Mrs. Collingham, what am I to do?"

The appeal helped Junia to rally her stricken powers. It enabled her to say inwardly: "I must act through this girl herself. If I estrange her, I may lose my son." A flash of the lioness wrath with which she trembled might lead to an irretrievably false step. So she made her tone kindly, sympathetic, almost affectionate.

"And Bob-does he know that-that you care for some one else?"

"He never asked me."

"But don't you think you should have told him?"

"That's not so very easy when-"

"But there was some sort of understanding between you and Hubert, wasn't there?"

Jennie's only answer to this was to clasp her hands and say,

"Oh, Mrs. Collingham, how do people get divorces?"

This being more than Junia had hoped for, she tried to use the opening to the best of her ability.

"They-they do something that-that makes the other person want to be free." Trying to explain this further, she ran the risk of citing a case perhaps too close to the point. "For instance, if my husband wanted to be free, he'd do something that would make me willing to divorce him."

"And would you?"

"You see, I'm taking the case of _his_ wanting to be free. In that situation, _he's_ the one who would do the thing. If I wanted to be free, I suppose-I suppose I should do it."

"So that if I wanted to be free, it would be up to me to do the thing rather than up to Bob."

A moral issue being here at stake, Junia was obliged, in the expressive American phrase, "to sidestep," though she supposed that the suggestion in the air was of no more than Jennie had done already. As an artist's model, it would be part of her professional occupation.

"I'm not giving you advice, my dear; I'm only trying to answer your question. I'm so sorry for you that I'd do anything I could to help you unravel the tangle."

"Then you think there are ways of unraveling it?"

"Oh, certainly, if you were willing to-"

"To what, Mrs. Collingham. There's almost nothing I wouldn't do-to get us all out-when you've been so kind to me."

Having a conscience of her own, Junia continued to "sidestep."

"My dear, I can't tell you what to do. I'm not sure that I know-very well. You see, it's your trouble, and you must get out of it. I'll help you. I _will_ do that. In every way I can I'll make it easy for you. But I couldn't advise-or-or put anything in your way that might be considered as-as temptation."

But conscientious scruples were not in Jennie's line. When eager to reach a point, she went to it straight.

"If Bob came back from South America and found I was living with Hubert, wouldn't he have to divorce me then?"

Junia rose in the agitation of one unused to plain talk, and shocked by it.

"Jennie-your name _is_ Jennie, isn't it?-I must go and speak to Mr.

Collingham. You'll stay here-won't you?-till I come back. I may have something then rather important to say."

The girl sat still, looking up adoringly.

"Are you going to tell him?"

"No; I think not. But there's something I want to ask him. I don't think that either you or I had better say anything to anyone. What do you think?"

Jennie shook her head.

"I don't want to. I wish n.o.body would ever have to know."

"I wish Hubert didn't have to know. Perhaps he won't; and yet-Let us think." She dropped into a chair nearer to Jennie than the one behind the tea table. "One thing I _must_ ask you. What happened after you and Bob went through that ceremony yesterday afternoon?"

"Nothing happened. He motored back to his friends on Long Island and I took the ferry and went home. He said he'd see me on Sat.u.r.day to say good-by."

"Where?"

"Oh, I don't know. In Central Park, I expect. He's asked me to meet him there once or twice already."

"But I wouldn't go anywhere else with him if I were you-not into a house, or anything."

"I won't if he doesn't make me."

"I'd be firm about that. You see, if you did-well, I'm sure you understand-it might-it might make it harder for you to find your way out to where you'd be happy again. Are you sure you see what I mean?"

"I've had that out with him. He'd said that nothing would happen till he got back from South America."

Relieved by this simple statement, Junia went on.

"And if I were you, I wouldn't say a word to anybody-not even to your own father and mother. Your mother is living, isn't she? Don't even tell Bob that you've seen me. Don't tell anyone anything. Let it be your secret and mine. I want you to feel that I'm your friend and anxious to help you out of the muddle in which you've tied up your happiness. At first, when you told me, I thought more of Hubert; but now that we've talked I'm thinking of you, too, and how much I should like to see you-"

A dim smile conveyed the rest of the thought while she rose again. "Now I'll go. Don't be alarmed if I'm a little long. Max will take care of you."

Left to herself, Jennie's emotions came in waves of conflicting calculation. Had she only been in love with Bob, and not with Hubert, all this graciousness would have lapped her round in silk and softness.

Nothing would have been denied her from a limousine to pearls. There would have been the villa for the family, with Gussie and Gladys turned into "buds."

But, as an offset to it, there would be the renunciation. Somehow, since cutting herself away from Hubert by the ceremony with Bob, he seemed nearer to her than before. Things she had supposed to be out of the question now presented themselves as more in the line of those that could be done. Within twenty-four hours she had lived much; she had ripened much. Now that she had had this talk with Mrs. Collingham, Hubert became more definitely an alternative. She could choose him and let this wealth and beauty go, or she could choose the wealth and beauty and let him....

But at the thought of turning her back on him something seemed to choke her. To choose what money could buy instead of this great love was treachery to all she knew as sublime. She clutched herself over the heart. It was as if she were going to die. Max was so startled that he sprang upon her with his mighty paws in the roughness of young consternation.

On the other hand, home conditions were well-nigh imperative. Love and Hubert were all very well, but they were part of the world of romance.

The family, with their concrete needs, were actuality. Jennie thought of each one of them in turn, but of Teddy most of all. Among those of her own generation, he was her favorite. If she became openly Mrs. Robert Bradley Collingham, Junior, of Marillo Park, Teddy would go far. He might have a place like Mr. Brunt's. Only the other day her father had said of Mr. Brunt, "There's one who don't have any trouble in pickling down his ten a week." To see Teddy pickling down his ten a week, which would be more than five hundred dollars in a year, Jennie was ready to submit to almost anything-even Bob's hands on her person. She might get used to them, and, if she didn't, why, the daily sacrifice would be not without its reward.

She had reached something like this decision when Mrs. Collingham came back. Watching her from the minute when she rounded the corner of the flagged pavement, Jennie noted a rapid change in her expression. At first it was terrible-that of a queen in wrath. As she approached the bird cage, however, it cleared so quickly that by the time she reached the threshold it was almost tender.

"That's because she likes me," Jennie said to herself. She was accustomed to being liked, though especially by men. "I think it will cheer her up if I say right off that I've come to stay with her."

To make this announcement she had risen to her feet, with lips already parted; but Mrs. Collingham forestalled her.

"Sit down again, my dear. I want to talk to you some more. I must tell you about Mr. Collingham." She herself sank into the chair near Jennie which she had already occupied. She panted as after a difficult experience. "Oh dear! It's been so trying! You don't know him, do you?