The Man from Home Part 18

ETHEL. You didn't consider it indelicate to write to strangers about my intimate affairs?

PIKE [placatingly]. Why, Jim Cooley's home-folks! His office used to be right next to mine in Kokomo.

ETHEL. It's monstrous--and when _they_ find what you've done--Oh, hadn't you shamed me enough without this?

PIKE. I expect this letter'll show who ought to be ashamed. Now just let's sit down here and try to work things out together.

ETHEL [with a slight, bitter laugh]. "Work things out together!"

PIKE. I'm sorry--for _you_, I mean. But I don't see any other way to do it, except--together. Won't you?

[She moves slowly forward and sits at extreme left of the bench. He watches her, noticing how far she withdraws from him, bows his head humbly, with a sad smile, then sits, not quite at the extreme right of the bench, but near it.]

PIKE. I haven't opened the letter yet. I want you to read it first, but I ought to tell you there's probably things in it'll hurt your feelings, sort of, mebbe.

ETHEL [icily]. How?

PIKE. Well, I haven't much of a doubt but Jim'll have some statements in it that'll show you I'm right about these people. If he's got the facts, I _know_ he will.

ETHEL. _How_ do you know it?

PIKE. Because I've had experience enough of life--

ETHEL. In Kokomo?

PIKE. Yes, ma'am! there's just as many kinds of people in Kokomo as there is in Pekin, and I didn't serve a term in the legislature without learning to pick underhand men at sight. Now that Earl, let alone his havin' a bad eye--his ways are altogether too much on the stripe of T.

Cuthbert Bentley's to suit me.

[He opens the envelope slowly, continuing.]

T. Cuthbert was a Chicago gentleman with a fur-lined overcoat. He opened up a bank in our town, and when he caught the Canadian express, three months later, all he left in Kokomo was the sign on the front door. That was _painted_ on. And as for the son. But there--I don't know as I have a call to say more.

[Takes the letter from the envelope.]

Here's the letter; read it for yourself.

[Gives it to her, watching her as she reads.]

ETHEL [reading]. "Dear Dan: The Earldom of Hawcastle is one of the oldest in the Kingdom, and the St. Aubyns have distinguished themselves in the forefront of English battles from Agincourt and Crecy to Sebastopol.

[She reads this in a ringing voice and glances at him.]

[PIKE looks puzzled and depressed.]

"The present holder of the t.i.tle came into it unexpectedly through a series of accidental deaths. He was a younger son's younger son, and had spent some years in Russia in business--what, I do not know--under another name. I suppose he a.s.sumed it that the historic name of St.

Aubyn might not be tarnished by a.s.sociation with trade. He has spent so much of his life out of England that it is difficult to find out a great deal about him. Nothing here in his English record is seriously against him; though everything he has is mortgaged over its value, the entail having been broken.

[ETHEL pauses and looks at PIKE, who, much disturbed, rises, and crosses the stage.]

"As to his son, the Honorable Almeric, there's no objection alleged against his character. That's all I've been able to learn."

[She finishes with an air of triumphant finality, and rises with a laugh.]

A terrible indictment! So that was what you counted on to convince me of my mistake?

PIKE [distressed]. Yes--it _was_!

ETHEL. Do you a.s.sert there is _one_ word in this seriously discreditable to the reputation of Lord Hawcastle or Mr. St. Aubyn?

PIKE [humbly]. No.

ETHEL. And you remember, it is the testimony offered by your own friend [scornfully]--by your own detective!

PIKE [ruefully]. Oh, if I wanted a detective I wouldn't get Jim Cooley--at least, not any _more_!

[His att.i.tude is thoroughly crestfallen.]

ETHEL [triumphantly, almost graciously]. I shall tell Lord Hawcastle that you will be ready to take up the matter of the settlement the moment his solicitor arrives.

PIKE. No, I wouldn't do that.

ETHEL [in a challenging voice]. Why not?

PIKE [doggedly]. Because I won't take up the matter of settlements with him or any one else.

ETHEL [angrily]. Do you mean you cannot see what a humiliation your interference has brought upon you in this?

PIKE. No; I see that plain enough.

ETHEL. Have you, after this, any further objections to my alliance with Mr. St. Aubyn?

PIKE. It ain't an alliance with Mr. St. Aubyn that you're after.

ETHEL. Then what am I [pauses and lays scornful emphasis on the next word] _after_?

[Ill.u.s.tration: "YOU'RE AFTER SOMETHING THERE ISN'T ANYTHING TO"]

PIKE [slowly]. You're after something there isn't anything to. If I'd let you buy what you want to with your money and your whole life, you'd find it as empty as the morning after Judgment Day.

[She turns from him, smiling and superior.]

You think because I'm a jay country lawyer I don't understand it and couldn't understand _you_! Why, we've got just the same thing at home.

There was little Annie Hoffmeyer. Her pa was a carpenter and doing well.

But Annie couldn't get into the Kokomo Ladies' Literary Club, and her name didn't show up in the society column four or five times every Sat.u.r.day morning, so she got her pa to give her the money to marry Artie Seymour, the minister's son--and a _regular_ minister's son he was!

Almost broke Hoffmeyer's heart, but he let her have her way and went in debt and bought them a little house on North Main Street. That was two years ago. Annie's workin' at the depoe candy-stand now and Artie's workin' at the hotel bar--in front--drinking up what's left of old Hoffmeyer's--settlement!

ETHEL [outraged]. And you say you understand--you who couple the name of a tippling yokel with that of a St. Aubyn--a gentleman of distinction.

PIKE. Distinction? I didn't know he was distinguished.