The House of the Misty Star Part 18

XV

PINKEY CHALMERS CALLS AGAIN

Never having been within hailing distance before of the processes of love and proceedings of courtship there were no signposts in my experience to guide me as to what should be my next step, if it were mine to take. I had been too busy a woman to indulge in many novels, but in the few I had read the hero lost no time in saying, "Will you?" and at once somebody began to practise the wedding march. I suppose the fashion in lovemaking changes as much as the styles; nothing I ever thought or dreamed on the subject seemed to fit the case in hand.

I waited for Zura to tell me, but she didn't. She only sang the more as she went about her work, doubling her efforts in making sweet the home and herself. She seemed to find fresh joy in every hour.

Any thoughts I'd cherished that young Hanaford would come at once, clear up all the confusion about himself, frankly declare his love for Zura and be happy forever afterward died from lack of nourishment.

Only my deep affection for the boy restrained my anger at his silence.

The love and sympathy which bolstered up my faith in him were reinforced by his gentle breeding and high mental quality; but circ.u.mstances forced me reluctantly to admit that the story he told when he first came was not true. Page Hanaford was not only under a shadow, but also was undoubtedly seeking to conceal his whereabouts. And why? The question sat on the foot of my bed at night and made faces at me, scrawled itself all over my work and met me around every corner.

It was next to impossible to connect him with dishonesty or baseness when looking into his face, or hearing him talk. But why didn't he speak out, and why hide his talents in this obscure place? He was gifted. His cla.s.ses had increased to large numbers, and so excellent were his methods his fame had gone abroad. The Department of Education had offered him a lucrative position as teacher in the Higher Normal College in a neighboring city. But, instead of s.n.a.t.c.hing at this good fortune, he asked for time to consider.

He came frequently to talk it over with me; at least that's what he said he came for. The law required the applicant for such a position to answer questions concerning himself and all his ancestors. In my talks with Page about this law I emphasized every detail of the intimate questions that would be put to him. I tried to impress upon him the necessity of having either a clean record, or a very clever tongue when he went before the judgment seat of the j.a.panese authorities. I hoped my seriousness would bring about a speedy explanation, denial, declaration--anything, so it came quickly. The truth is I don't believe he ever heard a word of what I said on the subject.

If Zura was out of the room, his eyes were glued to the door watching for it to open. If she were present, his eyes would be fixed on her face. If I made an excuse to leave the room, Page made another to keep me, as if he feared the thing he most desired. What did it all mean? If Page Hanaford could not explain himself honorably, what right had he to look at the girl with his heart in his eyes? If no explanation could be given, what right had Zura Wingate to grow prettier and happier every day?

I had always believed that love was as simple and straightforward as finding the end of a blind alley. There was good reason for me to change my belief as the days pa.s.sed and nothing was said on the subject.

Of course, I could have hauled the two up before me, like children, and told them what I had seen and was still seeing; but I dreaded to force the man's secret and I had to acknowledge that, for the time, I was no more equal to guiding this thing called "love" than I was to instructing birds to build a nest.

Jane was not a bit of help to me. Refusing to discuss anything except the sentimental side of the affair, she repeated verse till I was almost persuaded this poetical streak was a disease rather than a habit.

Between stanzas she proffered food and drink to Page, in quant.i.ties sufficient to end quickly both man and mystery, had he accepted. Her att.i.tude to Zura was one of perfect understanding and entire sympathy.

Every time she looked at the girl, she sighed and went off into more poetry.

Troubled thoughts stormed my brain as hailstones pelt a tin roof. I prayed for wisdom as I had never prayed for happiness.

The announcement one day that Mr. Tom Chalmers had called caused no sudden rise in my spirits, but a second card, bearing the name of Mrs.

Tom, somewhat relieved my mind. Their coming offered a diversion and proved Pinkey of a forgiving spirit.

They were on their wedding journey, he told us after I had summoned Zura. Greetings and congratulations were soon over. While the steamer was coaling in a near-by port he thought he would just run over in jinrikishas to say "h.e.l.lo!" and show Mrs. Chalmers to us. Yankee Doodle with a hat full of feathers could not have been more proud.

What there was of Mrs. Pinkey to exhibit was indeed a show. Her youthful prettiness belonged more to the schoolroom period than wifehood; and Heaven forbid that the clothes she wore should be typical of my country; there was not enough material in her skirt to make me a comfortable pair of sleeves! I marveled how, in so limited a s.p.a.ce, she advanced one limb before the other.

Later Zura explained the process to me: "It's a matter of politeness, Ursula. One knee says to the other, 'You let me pa.s.s this time, and I'll step aside when your turn comes.'"

Even this courtesy had failed to prevent a catastrophe; one seam of her dress was ripped for a foot above the ankle. The coat of this remarkable costume was all back and no front, and from the rear edge of her hat floated a wonderful feather like a flag from the stern of a gunboat.

I could see by her face how funny she thought my clothes. I hoped she did not realize how near to scandalous her outfit seemed to me. Usually the point of view depends on which side of the ocean one is when delivering judgment.

Pinkey was as eloquent on the subject of his wedding as if he had been the only Adam who ever marched down a church aisle. He was most joyful at the prospect of showing to his bride all the curiosities and shortcomings of the East. He felt he had encompa.s.sed wide and intimate knowledge of it in his two or three trips. I asked Mrs. Chalmers how she liked j.a.pan.

She took her adoring eyes off her newly-acquired husband long enough to answer: "It is lovely. Wonderful little people--so progressive and clean. It's too bad they are so dishonest; of course you must have lost a lot of money."

"No, I can't say that I have. I've been in the country thirty years and never lost a 'rin' except when my pocket was torn. Come to think of it, if histories, travelers and police records state facts, dishonesty is not peculiar to the Orient."

The little bride answered: "I don't know about that; but the j.a.panese must be awfully tricky, for Pinkey says so and the captain of the ship, who hates every inhabitant of the Empire, said the banks had to employ Chinese clerks."

Why waste words? What were real facts, or the experience of a lifetime against such unimpeachable authority as Mr. Pinkey Chalmers and the captain of a Pacific steamer! Why condemn the little bride, for after all she was human. Nationally and individually, the tighter we hug our own sins and hide their faces, the more clearly we can see the distorted features of our neighbor's weakness. There was more of pity than anger due a person who, ignoring all the beauty in the treasure house before her, chose as a souvenir a warped and very ancient skeleton of a truth and found the same pleasure in dangling it, that a child would in exhibiting a newly-extracted tooth.

Mr. Chalmers had been talking to Zura, but when he caught the word "bank" he included the entire company in his conversation. "Talking banks, are you? Well that is a pretty sore subject with me. Just lost my whole fortune in a bank. Had it happened before the wedding I'd have been obliged to put the soft pedals on the merry marriage bells. Guess you heard about the million-dollar robbery of the Chicago Bank; biggest pile any one fellow ever got away with. And that's the wonder: he got clean away, simply faded into nothing. It happened months ago and not a trace of him since. Detectives everywhere are on the keen jump; big reward hung up. He's being gay somewhere with seventy-five dollars of my good money."

Tea was served and we indulged in much small talk, but I was not sorry when Pinkey said he "must be moving along" to the steamer. He charged us to wireless him, if we saw a strange man standing around with a bushel of gold concealed about his person. It was sure to be the missing cashier. "By-the-way," he asked, pausing at the door, "where is that chap I met when I was here before, who took such an interest in my business? Maybe he is among those absent wanted ones. What was he doing here anyhow?"

Zura answered with what I thought unnecessary color that Mr. Hanaford was in the city, and was soon to be promoted to a very high position in the educational world.

Pinkey looked into her face and, turning, gave me a violent wink. "Oho!

Now I'm getting wise." At the same time humming a strain supposed to be from a wedding march.

Oh, but I wished I could slap him! Think of his seeing in a wink what I hadn't seen in months!

My visitors said good-by and went their happy way, but in the story of the missing cashier Mr. Chalmers left behind a suggestion that was as hateful as it was painful and haunting.

Page spent that evening with us. He was lighter of heart than I had ever seen him, more at ease and entertaining, and as far removed from crime as courage is from cowardice.

My heart ached as I looked at him, for I longed for his happiness as I yearned to know he was clean of soul.

If some cruel mistake had darkened his life, why did he not say so and let us, his friends, help him forget? Why not start anew with love as a guide?

It was another Page we were seeing that night. Was it the magic of love that made him hopeful, almost gay? Or was it for the moment he was permitted one more joyous flight in the blue skies of freedom before he was finally caught in the snare of the shadow?

For the time he sunned his soul in the garden of friendship and love and gave us, not only glimpses of other worlds, but disclosed another side of himself. If the new man I was seeing in Page Hanaford captivated me the revelation of the undiscovered woman in Zura mystified and amazed me. Till now her every characteristic was so distinctly of her father's race, everything about her so essentially Western, that I was beginning to think she had tricked a favorite law of Nature and defied maternal influence.

As much as she loved pretty clothes, and regardless of the pressure brought to bear by her grandfather, she had refused to wear the native garb, preferring the shabby garments she brought with her from America.

I had never thought of her being j.a.panese; but that evening, when Page was announced and Zura walked into the room clothed in kimono and obi, my eyes were astonished with as fair a daughter of old Nippon as ever pompadoured her hair or wore sandals on her feet.

She was like a new creature to me. Her daring and sparkling vivacity were tempered by a tranquil charm, as if a slumbering something, wholly of the East had suddenly awakened and claimed her. With eyes half lowered she responded with easy familiarity to Page's talk of other lands. She said her father had traveled far and had spent many of their long winter evenings in spinning yarns of foreign countries for her enjoyment. She'd been brought up more regularly on pictures than she had food. Once they had copies of all the great paintings. Mother sold the last one to get money to pay the pa.s.sage to come to j.a.pan.

And so they talked. Jane, snug in her chair, was content to listen, and I, who had been blind, was now dumb with the startling surprises that the game of life being played before me revealed.

The girl glowed as softly bright as a firefly and the light lured the man to happy forgetfulness. For once he let love have full sway. He neither sought to conceal what he felt, nor to stem the tide which was fast sweeping him--he knew not nor cared not whither so long as his eyes might rest upon the dearness of Zura's face, as with folded feet and hands she sat on a low cushion, the dull red fire reflecting its glory in the gold embroidery of her gown.

There had been a long silence. Then Zura recalled the event of the day: "Oh, Mr. Hanaford, by the way. You remember Pinkey Chalmers, don't you--the nice boy you and Ursula entertained so beautifully in the garden when he called the last time? He was here again to-day; had his bride with him. Ursula will tell you what she looked like. I do wish you had been here. Mr. Chalmers told us the most exciting news about a Chicago cashier who skipped away with a million dollars and hid both himself and the money--n.o.body knows where. They think he is out this way and I think I am going to find him."

In the pa.s.sing of one second the happiness in Page Hanaford's face withered. Like a mask fear covered it. He thrust his strained body forward and with shaking hand grasped the shoulder of the girl. "Hid it!

Tell me, in heaven's name, tell me where could a man hide a million dollars?" His voice was tense to the breaking point. He searched the girl's face as if all eternity depended upon her reply.

Before she could make it he sank back in his chair, pitifully white and limp. He begged for air. We opened the window. Zura ran for water. While I bathed his face he said, looking at Zura: "I beg your pardon. I'm not at all well, but I didn't mean to startle you."

"I'm not startled," she answered, and lightly added: "but I was just wondering why anybody would care so much where a million old dollars were hid. I know a hundred things I'd rather find."