it was the last day of the cattle week. a week which, for at least three people, was fraught with something in the nature of epoch-making events. all that the simple heart of nan tristram had looked forward to, yearned for, had been denied her from the first moment she had beheld that unmistakable lightening up of jeff's eyes on his meeting with elvine van blooren. it had been a revelation of dread. her own secret hopes had been set shaking to their very foundations. and from that moment on, during the rest of the week, brick by brick the whole edifice of them had been set tumbling. by the last day nothing but a pile of debris remained.
holiday! it had been a good deal less than holiday. she had looked forward to one all too brief succession of days of delight. jeff, who had been honored by his fellows in the world which was theirs. jeff, the leader in the great industry which absorbed them all. jeff, the man by his very temperament marked out for a worldly success only bounded by the limitations of his personal ambitions. she had been so proud of him. she had been so thankful to be allowed to share in his triumphs. she had shared in them, too--up till that meeting with elvine van blooren at the reception. after that--ah, well, there had been very little after for nan.
and the man himself. four days had sufficed to reduce jeff's feelings to a condition of love-sickness such as is best associated with extreme youth. furthermore its hold upon him was deeper, more lasting by reason of the innate strength of his character.
as for elvine van blooren it would be less easy to say. her beauty was of a darkly reticent order. hers was the face, the eyes, the manner yielding up few secrets. she rarely imparted confidence even to her mother. and a woman who denies her mother rarely yields confidence to any other human creature.
perhaps in her case, however, she had good reason. mrs. john d. carruthers, who possessed a simple erudite professor for a husband, a man who possessed no worldly ambitions of any sort, and who readily accepted his pension from the trustees of st. bude's college at the earliest date, so that he might devote all his riper years to the prosecution of his passion for classical research, was a painful example of worldliness, and a woman who regarded position and wealth before all things. there was little enough sympathy between mother and daughter. mrs. john d. carruthers only saw in elvine's unusual beauty an asset in her schemes of advancement. while elvine displayed a cold disregard for the older woman's efforts, and went her own way.
elvine was strong, even as jeffrey masters was strong. but while the man's strength lay in the single purpose of achievement, elvine looked for the ease and luxury which life could legitimately afford her. elvine and her mother possessed far too much in common ever to have sympathy for one another.
it was this very attitude which inspired an acrimonious half hour in the somewhat pretentious parlor on maple avenue just before jeff was to pay his farewell call at the close of the cattle week.
elvine was occupied with a small note-book on the| pages of which there were many figures. with a small gold pencil she was working out sums, which, apparently, were solely for her own edification. she communicated nothing to her mother, who covertly glanced over at her from the fancy work she was engaged upon at the far side of the room.
the room was such as might be found in any of the better middle-class houses in a western city. its furnishing was a trifle ornate. comfortable chairs predominated, and their woodwork shone with an extreme lustre, or were equally aggressive in their modern fictitious mission house style. the carpet and rugs were broadly floral and bright. there was altogether a modernity about the character of it which decidedly belonged to the gray-haired showiness of the wife of john carruthers. for all that, there was nothing absolutely untasteful about elvine's surroundings. the daughter would never have permitted such a thing. it was only modern, extremely modern. that type of modern which belongs to those homes where money is a careful consideration.
at last elvine closed her note-book and returned it to the rather large pocketbook which was lying in her lap. her fine eyes were half smiling, and a faint tinge of color deepened her perfect cheeks. she sighed.
"we didn't do so badly at the races, momma," she said, more for her own satisfaction than her mother's information. "guess i've got most all of it in and--i'm satisfied."
"maybe you are, my dear," came the ungracious response.
her mother was bending over her work, nor did she trouble to raise her eyes in her daughter's direction.
"that sounds as if somebody else wasn't."
elvine raised a pair of beautifully rounded arms above her head and rested the back of her neck upon her clasped hands.
the gray head was lifted sharply. a pair of brilliant black eyes shot a disapproving glance across the room. then the mother continued her work, shaking her head emphatically.
"what's the use of a few dollars? he's going back to his ranch to-morrow, and--nothing's happened."
there was something crude, almost brutal in the manner of it. there was something which on a woman's lips might well have revolted any man. but it was an attitude to which the daughter was used. besides, it saved her any qualms she might otherwise have had in pursuing her own way under the shelter of her mother's roof.
"i really can't see what you've to complain of, momma," elvine laughed, without any display of mirth. "i guess if you wanted to marry a man you'd leave him about as much chance as he'd have with a wildcat." then her smile died out. "anyway it doesn't seem to be a matter for other folk to concern themselves with. i'm not a child."
"no. but you're going to throw away the chance of a lifetime if you don't act right now. why, girl, jeff masters is the pick of the whole bunch of cattlemen around this district. he's going to be one of the cattle kings of the country, or i don't guess i know a thing. he's right here to your hand, and as tame as a lap-dog. to-morrow he's off again to the ranch, and that girl of his partner's will have him to herself for a year. why, you're crazy to let him go. four years you've lived here since--since----"
"i wish you'd stop worrying, momma--and," the girl added with unconcealed resentment, "get on with your knitting."
elvine had risen to her feet. she moved swiftly over to the window which gave on to a wide stoop, the roof of which was supported on well-built rag stone columns. she was more angry than her words admitted. her fine eyes were sparkling, her delicately penciled brows were slightly knitted.
she made a handsome picture. her wealth of dark hair was carefully dressed, but with the usual consummate simplicity. her figure was superb, with all the ripeness of maturity, but without the smallest inclination toward any gross development. she was statuesque, with all the perfect cunning of nature's art. she was a woman to find favor in any eyes, man's or woman's, and to perform that dual feat was a test which few women could hope to survive.
the mother's reply came sharply and without yielding.
"it's just four years since you came back to home. five or more since you first married. anyway, you've sat around here for four years having a good time without a thought of the future. you're spending your money, which didn't amount to----"
the girl flashed round.
"i won't tolerate it. i just won't, momma," she cried, with an energy which brought the other's eyes swiftly to her face. "you've talked of four years wasted, but you don't say a word of the other year, the fifth. it's taken me all that time to--forget what your judgment might have saved me from. oh, yes. you know it just as well as i do. don't blind yourself. i was foolish then, i thought i was in love, and it was the moment when the advice of a woman worth having might have helped me. you urged me in my folly to marry then, the same as you're urging me now. you saw everything you hoped for in that marriage, and you let me plunge myself into a living hell without a single qualm. the result. oh, i've tried to forget. but i can't i haven't forgotten. i never shall forget. but i've learned. i certainly have. i've learned to think wholly for myself--of myself. i don't need advice now. i don't need a thing. you'll never see things my way, and i don't fancy to see them yours. i shall marry. and when i marry again i promise you i'll marry right, and," she laughed bitterly, "i guess i'll hand you the rake off which you're looking for. but," she went on, with a swift, ruthless candor which stung even the worldly heart of the older woman, "i'll make no experimental practice. i'll marry the man i want to, first because i like him, and second, because he's a right man, and can hand me the life i need. maybe that's pretty hard sounding, but i tell you, momma, it's nothing to the hardness that makes you talk the way you do. anyway, i want you to get it fixed in your mind right now i'm no priceless gem in a jewelry store that you're going to sell at the price you figure. i'll dispose of myself when, and to whom, i choose, and my motives will be my own. now we'll quit it, once for all. jeffrey masters is coming right along down the sidewalk."
the mother's black eyes snapped angrily.
"very well," she exclaimed sharply. "see to it you make good. your father's pension isn't even sufficient for two, and your own money is limited. meanwhile, don't forget the tristram girl's just as pretty as a picture."
but elvine's exasperation had passed. there was a slight softening in her eyes as they surveyed the handsome, elaborately dressed gray head and the careful toilet of her unlovely mother. she understood the bitter carping of this disappointed woman. her spirit soared far beyond the lot of the wife of a pensioned school-teacher. she knew, too, that somewhere, lost in some dim recess of a coldly calculating nature, there was a tiny, glowing spot which burned wholly for her.
there was an unusual softness in her tone when she replied.
"but she needs framing, momma," she said lightly. "and anyway, a girl who lives more or less on the premises with a man for five years or so, and hasn't married him--well, i guess she never will."
* * * * * *
the whole method of jeff's life was rapidity of thought and swift execution supported by a perfect genius for clear thinking. it was these characteristics which had lifted him so rapidly in the world of cattle he had made his own. it was these which had shown him the possibilities of the now great obar ranch.
it might have been claimed for him that he lacked many of the lovable weaknesses of human nature. it might have been said that he was hard, cold. yet such was his passionate ambition beneath a cool, deliberate exterior that it would have been foolish to believe that his outward display was the real man. he was perhaps a powerfully controlled fire, but the hot tide ran strong within him, and the right torch at the right moment might easily stir the depths of him and bring their fiery display to the surface.
bud knew him. bud understood something of the deep human tide flowing through his strong veins. once he had seen that tide at the surface, and it had left an impression not easily forgettable. nan, too, was not without understanding of him. but hers was the understanding of her sex for an idol she had set up in her heart. her knowledge of his shortcomings and his best characteristics was perhaps the reflection of her feelings for him, feelings which make it possible for a woman to endow any object of her profound regard with the virtues she would have it possess. to her there was nothing of the iron, relentless, purposeful soul about him. he was just "honest jeff," as she loved to call him. a creature full of kindly thought for others as well as strong in his own personal attitude toward life.
for himself jeff knew nothing of the emotions lying dormant within him until some chance happening stirred them from their slumbers and sent them pulsating through his senses. he accepted the tide of life as he found it, and only on his journey, swimming down its many currents, he endeavored by skilful pilotship to avoid the shoals, and seek the beneficent backwaters so that his muscles and courage might be strengthened for the completion of the task he had still before him.
elvine van blooren had held the right torch at their first meeting during the cattle week. one look into her beautiful eyes had set his soul aflame, as all the years of his life spent in association with nan tristram had failed to do. did she only know it, the first waltz with him at the subsequent ball had completely made her mistress of his destiny.
again with his rapid, clear-thinking mind he had not only promptly admitted this truth to himself, but he reveled in the enchantment of the thought it inspired. he desired it. he regretted only that fortune had so long denied him the contemplation of such delights. he felt he had never before lived. he had merely existed, something more than a physical and mental machine, something less than a man.
something of all this stimulated his sensations during that ostensible farewell call upon the woman who had inspired the change. and, as his hungry eyes dwelt upon her great beauty, he became a prey to an impulse that was irresistible. why should this be a farewell? why should there ever be a farewell between them? there could be none. then, to his support came that steady determination which never failed him in crises. there should be no farewell.
he was clad in sober conventional garb. there was only the bronzing upon his fair brow and firm cheeks to suggest the open air life that was his. his slim, powerful figure was full of an ease which caught and held, and pleased elvine van blooren's fancy, and awoke in her more material mind something of the dreams which had driven her almost unthinkingly into the arms of her first husband. his fine blue eyes were alight with possibilities which came near to overbalancing the calculations of her mature mind. but, even so, she felt that the ground was so safe under her feet that, even with the background of the past ever in her memory, she could safely indulge her warmth of fancy to its full.
they were alone in the little modern parlor. at another time jeff must have observed its atmosphere without enthusiasm, just now he welcomed it. it represented the intimate background of a beautiful woman's life. this was the shrine of the goddess whom he had set up for his own worship. again there was no half measure.
they were talking in that intimate fashion which belongs to the period when a man and a woman have made up their minds that there remains no obstacle to the admission of mutual regard.
"it's just wonderful to have done it all in so short a time," elvine said in her low even tones.
jeff had been talking of the obar ranch which was more precious to him than a schoolboy's first big achievement in the playing fields. he had been talking of it, not in the spirit of vain glory, but out of the deep affection of a strong heart for the child of his own creation.
"oh, i guess it would have been wonderful with any other feller for a partner than bud tristram," jeff responded promptly. "as an enterprise, why, i guess it's my thought. as a success, it's bud's genius for setting cattle prospering. say, you can't handle a wide proposition right by reckoning up figures and fixing deeds of sale and partnership. i allow you need to do some thinking that way. but when it's all figgered right, why, the real practical man needs to get busy or the figgers aren't worth the ink an' paper you've used to make 'em. bud's the feller of the obars. i just sit around and talk wise when he needs talk, which i don't guess is frequent."
jeff's smile was genuine. there was no false modesty that made him place the credit of the obar's success at bud's door. the credit was bud's. he knew it. and, with frank honesty, was only too ready to admit it, and even advertise it.
elvine nodded. her dark eyes were warmly returning his smile.
"i like that," she said simply. and she meant it.
the blood mounted to the man's brow. he felt that he had forced her to make the admission, and regarded his act with some shame.
"say, don't feel you've got to say that," he said earnestly. "you mustn't just think i'm asking your applause. these are simple facts which i can't deny. i'd like to feel the sun just rises and sets around my work, but if i did i'd be the same sort of fool as those pharisee fellers in the bible. bud's a bully feller, and i'll owe him more than i can ever hand him back just as long as i live."
elvine was comparing this man's big generosity with her understanding of most of the men she had ever known. she was thinking, too, of days long since passed, and events which even a wide distance of time had not succeeded in rendering mellow.
she sighed. somehow "honest jeff" was hurting her in a way she would never have believed any man could hurt her--now.
"this bud tristram's daughter--nan. she's a pretty creature," elvine went on, feeling their topic needed changing.
jeff's smile deepened.
"she's pretty--right through to her soul," came his prompt and earnest response.
elvine's eyes observed him closely. she laughed in a challenging fashion.
"and she is still her father's daughter?"
jeff flushed. her meaning could not be mistaken. his impulse was to speak out of the depth of a strong abiding regard for his friend's "little gal." but he rejected the impulse. time and his own desires were pressing.
"oh, i guess she'll marry some fellow some day. maybe he'll be good enough----"
"and more than likely he won't." elvine's reply was emphatic. she suddenly sat forward in the deep rocker, and a great earnestness shone in her eyes. "i tell you no woman in this life has a right to be as 'pretty' as you believe her to be," she said with intense bitterness. "if i had my way every girl would be taught to reason for herself on those things in life which make for her well-being. i'd make her think that way before everything else. to me it is the direst cruelty of providence that we should be left to become the prey of our own emotions, and at the mercy of any man of whatever quality who can sufficiently stir them. maybe you do not agree to that. but just think of the awful position that every wretched, physically feeble woman stands in in the life about her. i tell you no girl on her own resources has much better than a dog's chance of getting through life without disaster. our emotions are the most absurdly foolish type it is possible to think of. i guess we can do things with our normal reason which would shame a whole asylum of crazy folk who can't be let run around free. oh, i'd like to know her better, to tell her, to warn her. i don't guess i've ever done good in the world, but i'd like to. if i could save one of my sex from some of the pitfalls lying around, maybe i'd feel i'd been some use."
"why not know her better? say, nan's no end of a good sort. she'd be real glad."
jeff's invitation sounded lame, even to himself. but he was struggling under an emotion that made words difficult.
elvine laughed.
"would she? i wonder."
then she hurried on lest her observation should be interpreted.
"and you're going to quit our city to-morrow for your wonderful ranch. i guess the cattle week's liable to bore folks who've real work in the world--like you. it's just a week of show, and glitter, and ceremony, all those things which have no real place in the world of things that matter. but there, after all, i wonder what are the things that matter. and do they matter anyway? we have no guide. we're just left to grope around and search for ourselves, and every folk's ideas are different from every other folk's. i'm restless. i sort of feel there's so much to be done in the world--if we only knew how, and what."
the half-bantering manner of the woman did not disguise her earnestness. jeff shook his head.
"guess i can't say. guess none of us can--rightly. but why not come around to the ranch and see things? see if you can worry out an answer. see if you think the work we're doing matters. it certainly does matter to me, to us. but in the world. i don't know. just now i sort of feel it don't. just now i'm wondering whether i'll go back there to-morrow. what do you say?"
"i? how can i say?"
jeff laughed.
"i don't guess there's a thing easier." his eyes were shining as he took in the girl's dark beauty. "seems to me i'm beginning to wonder about the things that matter myself. it's been a bully week. the sort of week some folks would write about in their secret diary. guess i don't keep a secret diary--except somewhere right in here." he tapped his breast. "i don't seem to feel i've ever had such a time, or ever will again, unless----"
"unless?" elvine was caught in the mood of the moment. this man was exercising a fascination over her which had nothing to do with the calculations she had laid down for the guidance of her sex.
"why, unless i add another week to it."
"d'you think you could duplicate it then?"
"that just depends on--you."
elvine rose from her chair and moved toward the window. jeff, too, left his chair. he stood tall and straight--waiting.
her back was turned to him.
"it is not for me to say," she replied without turning.
"why not?"
"your work--in the world."
"can wait. there's always--bud tristram."
suddenly elvine turned about. her eyes were smiling, and full of a light which had not lived in them for several years. there was not a shadow of calculation in them now.
she held out her hand in token of dismissal.
"we had some fine rides--together," she said.
"my horses are still here."
"and--the dances. they were--very pleasant."
"maybe they can be danced--again."
"good-bye," she said, her beautiful hand lingering in his for a moment.
"for the present," jeff added with decision.
then he mechanically glanced at his timepiece. his "farewell" call had lasted over two hours. but even so it had been all too short for him.
