i
so they were married. graystone hall at last had a mistress worthy of its architect and decorator when—love and affection and other good considerations moving thereto, as the law hath it—the new mrs. rawn moved into the place of the old mrs. rawn. thereafter matters went at least as merry as most marriage bells celebrating the nuptials of middle age and youth, of wealth and beauty.
as mr. rawn had spent a million dollars to free himself from one wife, he seemed willing to spend much more in the process of taking on another. it became current rumor that the one great diamond show of the western city was virginia rawn. the sobriquet, "the lady of the lightnings," passed from new york to chicago and became permanent there. not that that lady delighted in display; but there were occasional operatic or theatrical events which demanded compliance with her husband's wishes, in which event she blazed almost better than the best.
but, gradually, she showed the tastes of the aristocrat, as alien to vulgar display as to crude manners. gradually the tone, color, atmosphere, of graystone hall began to change. the porcelains which virginia rawn purchased were not large and gorgeous, but a connoisseur would have called them worthy. the vast and brilliantly framed paintings came down one by one, and one by one masterpieces went up, selected by one who knew. the walks, the grounds, took on simpler and cleaner lines. rawn of the international got a new credit as a person of taste. he was accepted as a collector, a patron of the arts, a connoisseur, in fact, yet more a worthy and a rising citizen.
the hospitality of mr. rawn's mansion house also now increased perceptibly, and, delighted that at last numbers came to see him, mr. rawn at first did not analyze those numbers very closely. even the fastidious, many of whom came to be amused, were unanimous in the feeling that mr. rawn's house, its furnishings, its decorations, its pictures, its works of art, its hospitality also, were beyond reproach. the trace of gaucherie was gone. the spirit of the place was delicately reserved, dignified, yet well assured. the seal of approval was placed upon graystone hall. who, indeed, should smile at the man who had made so meteoric a rise, who had by a few years of labor become master of this mansion, its furnishings and its mistress? who, upon the other hand, might smile at that mistress, whose appearance upon the front page of the leading journals of the city became now a matter of course—a lady of such reserved tastes as led her to forsake the larger marts, and to set the seal of fashionable approval upon a little florist, a little modiste, a little milliner all her own—even a little surgeon hither-to unknown, who honored a little hospital and made it fashionable, by taking there this distinguished patient for a little operation?
ii
rawn himself expanded in all this social success. he saw doors hitherto closed, opening before him, saw his future unrolling before him also like a scroll. a hundred times a week he walked to his young wife, caught her in his arms, uxoriously infatuated with her youth, her beauty, her aplomb, her fitness for this life which he had chosen. for once he almost forgot to regard himself as a collector of beautiful objects, although the truth was that his wife, virginia, became more beautiful each day, more superb of line, more calmly easy in air, more nearly faultless of garb and demeanor. she took her place easily and surely among the young matrons of the wealthier circles of the western city. whereas thousands of auto-cars had passed by graystone hall and only a dozen stopped, scores now, of the largest, drove up its winding walks and halted at its doors. the dearest dream of both seemed realized. the hunt in couple had won! they had gained what they desired; that is to say, self-indulgence, ease, idleness, adulation, freedom from care. what more is there to seek? and is not this america?
gradually john rawn had been losing the rusticity which had accompanied him well up to middle age. the city now began to leave its imprint. the waistcoat of mr. rawn gradually attained a curve unknown to it in earlier years, so that his watch fob now hung in free air when he stood erect. his face was perhaps more florid, his hair certainly more gray. his skin remained fresh and clean, and always he was well-groomed, having the able assistance of his wife now in the selection of his tailoring, as well as her coaching in social usage. they always looked their part. at morning, at noon, or at dewy eve, in any assemblage or any chance situation, they both played in the r?le assigned to them in their own ambitions. born of environment wholly unconventional, they now took on that of conventionality as though born to that instead. you could not have found a more perfect type of respectability than john rawn, a more absolutely valid exemplar of good social form than his wife, virginia. all things prospered under their magic touch, the genii of the lamp seemed theirs. no problems remained for them to solve. they had in their own belief attained what may be attained in american life, and they were happy. or, that is to say, they should at least have been happy, if their theory of life and success, and of those like to theirs, be correct. at least they were what they were—products of a wonderful country which makes millionaires overnight and produces out of bakeries women of one generation fit to be the wives of princes born of forty kings.
iii
we are, some of us at least, accustomed to worship such as these as they ride by upon the high car of success, accustomed to envy and to emulate them. if that vehicle be the car of juggernaut, crushing under its wheels multitudes of those who worship, it is no concern of those who sit aloft. for a long time mr. rawn and his wife remained ignorant of the fact that one victim under the wheels of their success was none other than mr. rawn's daughter, grace.
alas! for that young lady. she unfortunately had been now for almost a year an aspirant in her own right to a seat upon the car of ease and luxury; yet here she saw herself swiftly supplanted, and worse than that, swiftly forgotten! her year of quasi-place and power had left her unwilling to return to her own humble home. she remained on at graystone hall, now rarely visited by her husband. she found herself calmly accepted, yet calmly neglected as well. very naturally she hated the new mrs. rawn with all her soul; a hatred which that lady repaid with nothing better than a straight look into grace's dark eyes, a look innocent, calm, and wholly fearless. grace must now see the very jewels her own mother should have worn, blazing at the neck and hands of her stepmother; must see that lady taking assuredly and as of right, what grace could now never ask or expect for herself. with an unapproachable and wholly hateful air of distinction and good breeding which rankled most of all in crude mrs. halsey's heart, virginia rawn sat high on the car of juggernaut; and the car of juggernaut passed on. in pride and delight over his young wife, john rawn really forgot his daughter. the young new wife did the same, or appeared to do so.
iv
john rawn had told the truth to his wife when first he had declared his sentiments toward her—he never before that time really had known love, or at least had not known infatuated love such as that he felt for her. he exulted in the vistas of delight which he saw before them, fancying them endless. the very sight of his wife, cool, faultless, self-possessed, haughty, filled him with a sense of his own importance, making him feel that he was one of god's chosen. she was his, he had found her, discovered her, collected her. she was his to put upon a pedestal, to admire, to display, to worship, to load down with jewels. he had something now which other men coveted and envied. he flaunted his ownership of such a woman in their faces. what more can a rich man do than that same? is that not the dream and test of power—to secure what others may not have, to secure special privileges in this life? and is not the quest of beauty the first business of him who has attained power? of all these special privileges which had come to john rawn so swiftly in these late rapid years, none so delicately and warmly filled his heart as that of being able to call virginia rawn his own. why blame him? the sultans of thirty or forty generations have devised nothing better than this test of power.
john rawn, with all properly aristocratic leanings toward sultanry, lacked certain elements of sultanhood in strength, but had others in weakness. he did not know that in reality he was in the hands of a stronger nature than his own. "she's got him jumping through hoops," was the comment of one young man. "he'll sit up and bark whenever she gives the word!" but rawn did not know that he was barking and jumping, his tongue hanging out excitedly. in all his mental pictures of himself he fancied himself to be a figure of dignity, of strength, indeed of majesty.
