We Three Part 25

He laughed gently.

"Lucy," he said, "must have thought that I wasn't ever coming back.

She's been trying to put the house in order."

"How do you mean?"

"Oh, finding out how much money's owed, and making a beginning of tying up loose ends."

"Kids all right? I haven't set eyes on 'em for three or four days."

"Yes, the kids are fine," and he added, after a pause, "and Lucy's fine too."

There were several men in the club and they made John heartily welcome, and told him how much better he looked than when he went away. As a matter of fact he looked much worse.

We all had tea together and asked questions about Palm Beach, and if he had seen so and so, and if he'd brought any money away from the gambling place, and what was new, and amusing, etc.

"Do you know," he said all of a sudden, "there was one very interesting thing that happened. Anybody mind if I talk shop?"

n.o.body did; so he went on: "I had a telegram from a Baron Schroeder asking if it would be convenient for me to see him. He came all the way down to Palm Beach, talked to me all the time between trains, and flew away north again. He wanted to know how many rifle cartridges I could make in a year, at a price, a very round price, how many in five years. He wanted to know if I could convert any of my plant into a manufactory for shrapnel, and so on. What interested me is that he should take all that trouble over a small concern like mine. It looks as if someone saw a time when there would be a great dearth of ammunition. Two days ago Schroeder had gone away. I was braced, while in swimming, by a Russian gentleman. He apologized and plied me with the same sort of questions; I gave him the same sort of offhand answers that I had given Schroeder, and then I asked him what it was all about, and I told him about Schroeder without mentioning names. He said he could only guess, but that if I would sign a contract he would keep my plant running full for five years. It looks, doesn't it, as if somebody had decided to change the map of Europe, and as if others suspected the design?"

"Well, what came of it? Did you land a contract? Tell more."

"Nothing has come of it yet. But I think something will. I'm to meet the Russian in New York shortly."

"Why the Russian? The Baron saw you first."

"The Russian had better manners," said Fulton simply. "I think he liked me, and I know I liked him!"

Fulton asked me to dinner, but I refused, and so it was nearly four days before I saw Lucy again. In the meanwhile Harry Colemain told me more about the Palm Beach trip. The ammunition inquiries had, it seemed, strengthened Fulton's nerves; there had been no repet.i.tion of the hysterics.

"A man," Harry said, "must be even more down and out than Fulton not to be braced by a prospect of good business. From what he told me, if the contract goes through, he stands to make a fortune."

"Is there anything peculiarly good about the Fulton cartridges, or is Europe just out to gather up all the ammunition she can?"

"It looks rather like a sudden general demand. But of course n.o.body _knows_ anything except the insiders. Fulton says if the contract goes through he can die any time and be sure that his family will be well provided for. That feeling will stiffen his backbone. But you haven't told me if you said anything to Lucy?"

I had been dreading that question as one which could not be answered with complete frankness. I don't enjoy lying. Not that my moral sense revolts, but because I am lazy. Lying calls for deliberate efforts of invention.

"In a general way, yes," I evaded. "But her own good sense has come to the rescue. John's absence gave her a chance to see how she really felt about things. She won't leave him. Indeed, she'll try to make up to him in every way she can for her failure of affection."

"If she does _that_," said Harry, "I daresay the affection will come back. The more you benefit a person the more you like that person.

The more you fail in your duty to a person, the less you like that person. I'm delighted with what you say. With all her charm and beauty she can make him happy if she tries."

"I think it's not a question of charm and beauty," I said. "It's a question of keeping house for him, and being a good mother to the children, and being loyal to him and them."

"There are reservations?"

"She doesn't love him."

"Oh," said Harry scornfully, "_that_ sort of thing won't work."

"We know a good many cases where that sort of thing seems to work."

"It only works when the husband acts like a natural man. Fulton won't.

For him only Lucy is possible. There can be no subst.i.tute. No. In this case it won't work. He's too young and she's too good-looking."

"Then it won't work," I said shortly.

"She makes me sick," said Harry. "She gets her board and lodging and her clothes and spending money from him, and love and protection, and--Oh, it isn't as if there'd never been anything between them.

After all, as far as he's concerned, she's no novice."

"The moment she stopped loving him she became spiritually separated from him."

"Spiritually be d.a.m.ned!" exclaimed Harry. "Don't talk to me. There are women in New York who to keep from starvation, will make love to any man that comes along, for a pittance. They do the very best they can to earn the money. I can't help admiring 'em. But your fashionable married woman, she's too refined, too delicately souled, too spiritual to do anything but eat herself sick on her man's money and spend him into a hole. It's bad enough to be a prost.i.tute who plays the game, but it's a d.a.m.ned sight worse to be a prost.i.tute who doesn't."

"I'm not going to get angry with you, Harry. We've been through too much together. But I think you have said enough. Lucy is one of the finest, purest-minded women in the world."

"Then she ought to be her husband's wife, or get out. If she's not his wife, she's no business grafting on him for board and lodging and pocket money. How long does a pure-minded, good-looking woman keep off the streets if she can't raise the wind any other way? Not long. And how many men can she graft on? Plenty of 'em--once. But not twice.

The word goes round about her. 'She's a beauty to look at,' says the word, 'but she doesn't earn her money.'"

"Many marriages," I said, "_have_ to be re-arranged and compromised."

"Don't say _have_ to be, say _are_."

"Harry," I said with great firmness, "the country needs rain like the devil."

After a moment, good humor returned to his face. He said; "You've just won an argument. I also am dry as a bone."

XXIV

"This isn't the last ride together," said Lucy, "but almost. This time we are really going."

We had turned into Lovers' Lane, outward-bound, the ponies walking.

"John will have to be in New York for many days about this Russian contract, and he doesn't want to take the long trip back. So we're all going together."

"I shan't stay here very long after you've gone."

"No, you mustn't."

"We'll have lots of nice parties in New York."

"John says he's going to sell our house here, or rent it, or get rid of it somehow."

"Why?"