i
what is written is written. grace moved to graystone hall and halsey remained at the factory cottage; nor did the separation, which was regarded by both as merely temporary after all, afflict either to the extent that both had supposed it would. grace now became acting mistress of a large and elaborate ménage. as to her husband, his domestic affairs fell into the hands of mrs. ann sullivan, wife of jim sullivan, halsey's most trusted foreman in the factory.
mrs. sullivan, blessed with six children of her own, alleged that it would be no trouble whatever to her to take on the sweeping, mending, and all else for an additional household, and to furnish meals for the solitary head thereof; and such was her ability to make proof of all these statements that she in part was to blame for the sad truth that halsey was not as unhappy as he ought to have been.
the chief reason for halsey's easy readjustment, however, lay somewhere in his comparison of the halsey blood with blood half rawn. grace had been cold, after all. she had openly been discontented, and especially unhappy since the birth of the deformed child. she had left him and gone to her father with no great protest; nor did she, at the occasions of their rare and lessening visits, display more than lukewarm interest in her husband and her former home. within six months she was beginning to blossom out in raiment, in demeanor. she spoke of things not in his knowledge though in hers. she was changing. she was going up in the world. he, for the time at least, was doing no better than to stand still; as the factory now was doing, and international power, also—marking time, waiting for something.
ii
ann sullivan was not a bad philosopher, besides being a good cook, and at times she did not hesitate to engage mr. halsey in conversation when they met at this or that time of the day; as when by chance, one noontide when he came home for lunch, he found her sweeping down the front stair.
"you're lookin' lonesome to-day, mr. halsey," she remarked without much preliminary. "you're fair grievin' for your wife, i suppose? but why should you expict anny woman to stay here whin she has such a pa, with such a house as her pa has?"
"would you have gone over there, mrs. sullivan?" asked halsey, stopping and feeling in his pocket for a pipe of tobacco. it was a question they often had discussed.
"would i? in a minnit! i'd lave jim sullivan for iver if i'd one chanct such as your wife had."
she grinned, but her look belied her speech.
"what i'm wantin', mr. halsey," she went on, "is what anny woman wants. i want a di'mond star to wear on me head whin i'm sweeping flures. i need di'mond earrings and bracelets to wear whin i'm makin' your beds, you mind; and a silk dress that hollers 'i'm a-comin'!' whin i start out to scrub the steps. ain't it the truth, mr. halsey? ain't that what ivery woman in the wurrld, at laste in america, is wantin'?"
"sure," nodded halsey. "don't forget the automobile while you're wishing."
"true it is! whut woman of anny social position has not got her awtomobeel to-day? luk at me. if i had me rights, i'd have me electric bro'om brought to the coorb ivery mornin' for me to go to market; and ivery evenin', after i'd got me sweepin' done, i'd have me long gray torpedy corm around to take me and jim out fer a fast spin up the bullyvard. me with di'monds on my hair, with rings on me fingers an' bells on me toes, a-settin' there an' lukkin' scornful. oh, i was born in ireland, but i'm american now. the day jim sullivan gives me what is me due, and i git me first awtomobeel, 'twill be the proud day fer me—the day whin i'm first fined fer vi'latin' the speed law of the city. 'tis a great counthry this!"
iii
mrs. sullivan grinned happily at her romancing; but presently set her broom against the door-jamb and turned to speak more in her real mind.
"anny woman wants to blackguard a little once in a while, mr. halsey, sir, and all women like to lie twice in a while. i'm just lyin' to you now, because the birds is singin' and the weather is so fine.
"listen! anny woman that's goin' to be happy is goin' to be happy because of the stomach she has for eatin', and the joy she has for dancin', and the heart she has for love of her man and her childern. and anny woman that has her heart in the right place is goin' to stand by them and not by herself; and not by anny one ilse. try me and see if i'm lyin' now! you're the boss. fire jim sullivan to-day, and see do i stick with him, or do i go with some man that gives me di'monds, and awtamobeels. i'd stick—and so'd anny other woman that loved her man and her childern."
"i'm glad you think so, mrs. sullivan."
"you know i think so! oh, maybe it's because i wasn't born in this country. over there, 'tis the woman helps to make the stake. here, she helps to spend it. 'tis a fine counthry this—fer policemin. so far as bein' happy in it's concerned, i dunno! maybe it's the irish in me that's happy, and not the american. i dunno again. 'tis all a question which you want to be, rich or happy!"
"or useful!" ventured halsey.
"they're the same. bein' useful is bein' happy. ain't it the truth?"
halsey nodded again and mrs. sullivan reached once more for her implement of industry.
"jim sullivan fits in his job," said she. "he's strong and can hold his job all right. i'm strong, and i can hold mine here, just the same. we've only six childern, and i wish 'twas a dozen. no, it's no trouble to take care of this house, too. i'm only thinkin' of that little lamb of yours she tuk away with her. 'tis a mother she nades."
"please don't, mrs. sullivan," said halsey quietly.
"i mane no harm, and i'm feelin' fer you, me boy, you havin' a crippled child to face the world where even the strong has hard enough times ahead. still, she'll have money, maylike!"
"well, mrs. sullivan, i'm not sure of that—"
"of course it's none of me business—of course not. but only look at the sky and only hear the birds this mornin'! you're young, and god may give you two yet the dozen that i have longed for, denied as i do be with only six. you'll be goin' up yerself some day, with all thim rich folks, mr. halsey, boy. i'm stayin' here with jim sullivan. whin we can't afford sparrowgrass we eats potaties."
iv
"but tell me, mr. halsey," she went on shrewdly, "how long will we be havin' even potaties to eat? ye don't keep min there in the factory long—there's not many at wurrk now. besides, there's no smoke in thim chimbleys! and 'tis time. what's the mystery there, boy?"
"a good deal of labor troubles," commented halsey non-committally.
"more than that!" she insisted, drawing close to him. "listen! i mean well to you, boy, and so does jim. he'll stick. but jim told me the night that he could walk out, and pick up a clean tin thousand dollars fer the walkin'!"
halsey controlled himself. this was news of staggering sort. "why doesn't he, then, mrs. sullivan? that's a good deal of money," he said quietly.
"yes, why doesn't he?—with me half american and gettin' more so aich year,—me a-needin' di'monds and awtomobeels! the fool irish! 'tis maybe his ijiotic idea he ought to stick."
halsey made no answer except to look over at the gaunt factory buildings. a blue-coated figure was pacing back and forth before the door.
"there's jim sullivan workin' inside, and there's tim carney walkin' beat outside," she resumed; "and the pickets tryin' to break in, and some one else tryin' to break in. what's it about, mr. halsey? for the company? what's the company?"
"it furnishes asparagus for some, and potatoes for others, mrs. sullivan."
"oh, does it, thin? does it mind that potaties costs more than they did, and so pay us better, or worse, for what we do? if what we eat goes up, we can't live; and if we can't live, them that can has got to support us somehow. ain't it the truth? what's the ind of it, me boy?
"i'm not askin' about the justice of it, but about the business of it. if our men starve, what'll we do? mr. halsey, sir, we'll raise hell! that's what we'll do! too much asparagus in this country, and too few potaties, and thim of a bad class, is goin' to raise hell in this counthry. ain't it the truth?
"luk at jim workin' there. and luk at tim protectin' of him. 'tis fine, isn't it? i'm thankin' god, meself, there's birds and sunshine in the world. if it wasn't for thim and the priest, i'm wonderin' sometimes what us poor folks would do."
v
"the theory is that some men are born stronger than others, mrs. sullivan, and so entitled to the asparagus," smiled halsey.
"is it so? jim sullivan yonder is strong in what makes a man. in what makes a woman i'm strong. hasn't god got a place fer us, as well as mr. rawn? and if god don't give it, haven't such as us just got to take it?—i don't mean the asparagus, but just the potaties?"
"but i've said enough," she went on, turning suddenly. "'tis only because i'm fond of you, me boy, that i've said so much. there's devilment and mystery goin' on here. i don't ask you what your mystery is, so don't ask me what is mine. jim's likely to stick, and so am i. 'tis likely we can be useful in the world, and as for bein' strong, we're strong enough to have each other. and as i was sayin', we've the birds and the sunshine—and the priest! so take your mystery you've got in there, and match it up with mine. l'ave jim sullivan alone, and when these two mysteries git together, yours and ours, why, maybe there'll be hell!"
halsey did some thinking when he was alone. he knew now, and had known, that something, somebody besides the pickets of the labor unions, had an eye on this mysterious factory of theirs. he had felt for a long time that there was an enemy working somewhere, that a spy was making definite attempts to get secret information. now, this unknown enemy was able to offer ten thousand dollars bribe money. the case was serious enough.
it was worse than serious. he had been sufficiently warned. why, then, his pipe cold in his teeth, did he sit staring now and think of things altogether apart from the factory? why did he dream of the birds and the sunshine? why did comparisons still force themselves into his mind, and why did he long for something life had not yet brought to him—something that ann sullivan and her man owned, though they had so little else?
