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Clark's Field, a novel by Robert Herrick |
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Chapter 21 |
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_ CHAPTER XXI Of course this was precisely what Pussy Comstock had been clever enough to see when, in the idiom with which Mr. Crane was familiar, she had had the trust officer "on the carpet" and "called him down" on that memorable occasion of the day after. He might tell her, as he had recklessly done, that her own relation to the rich girl depended solely upon his consent, and hint coarsely that he knew well enough the ground of her extreme interest in Adelle's fate. Miss Comstock did not take the trouble to deny either fact. She merely smiled at the blustering banker, and intimated that the president and directors of the trust company might have views about the conduct of its trust officer towards their ward. She had heard much of the prominent social position of President West, and if she were not mistaken Mr. Nelson Glynn, the father of one of her girls, was a director in the bank. Mr. Crane wilted under this fine treatment, and departed as we have seen to do Miss Comstock's will. This blunder of Adelle's official guardian also gave Miss Comstock a great prestige with the girl herself. Pussy had so cleverly unmasked the designing man that Adelle felt only mortification for the incident and was grateful for Miss Comstock's friendship and impressed by her knowledge of the world. Miss Comstock made much of her in the ensuing weeks, and for this angular and somewhat worn middle-aged woman Adelle began to have the first real passion of her life. She was putty in her hands for a time and obeyed her slightest suggestion. Instead of curbing Adelle's tendency to extravagance, the mistress of the Villa Ponitowski encouraged it, partly for her own gratification and partly to serve warning upon the trust officer. Mr. Crane might well wonder where Adelle put the money she drew; he would have been amazed if he could have known the ingenious ways which Miss Comstock found for improving her opportunity. In all the years that she had pursued her parasitic occupation, she had never had such a free chance, and she began to dream ambitiously of appropriating Adelle and Clark's Field for life. With Pussy's approval Adelle bought another motor, a high-powered touring-car, and she kept besides several saddle-horses for use in the Bois. She generously assumed the entire rent of Miss Baxter's expensive studio when that imprudent artist found herself in difficulties; but that comes a little later. Adelle defrayed all the expenses of the Nile trip which Miss Comstock made with her family this winter. These are a few instances of the spending habit, but the great leak was the constant wastefulness to which Adelle was becoming accustomed. She spent a lot of money merely for the sake of spending it, buying nothings of all sorts to give away or throw away. It seemed as if all the penurious years of the Clarks were now being revenged in one long prodigal draft by this last representative of their line. The magic lamp responded admirably each time Adelle rubbed it by simply writing her name upon a slip of paper at the banker's. She had a child's curiosity to find out the limits of its marvelous power, and daringly increased her demands upon it. Possibly if Miss Comstock's designs had carried, she might have discovered this limit within a few years: but her fate was shaping otherwise. Meantime her little "affair" with the banker excited the other girls in the family, who felt that the rich young heiress must encounter many wonderful adventures in love. Adelle was initiated in the great theme, and for the first time began to take an interest in men. Perhaps Mr. Ashly Crane's crude love-making had broken down certain inhibitions in the girl's passive nature, had overcome an instinctive repugnance to sex encounters. The path of the next wooer would doubtless be easier. But that lucky man did not put in an appearance. Miss Comstock jealously guarded the approaches to her treasure with greater discretion than ever before. She made no effort to prepare for her an alliance with an impecunious scion of the minor Continental nobility such as she arranged later for Sadie Paul. She said that she could think of no one good enough for her dear Adelle, and anyway the girl was altogether too young to think of marrying--another year would be ample time. So Adelle was confined to the younger brothers and friends of her companions, who turned up in Paris at different times, and upon these she tried timidly her powers of charm with no great success. Apparently she was content to remain without "beaux." Luxury had made her indolent, and her days were full of petty occupations that distract the spirit. Yet at times she felt a vague emptiness in her life which she soon found means of filling in an unsuspected manner. Adelle's interest in the art of jewelry had not ceased, but she was away from Paris this second year so much that her work in Miss Baxter's studio had been sadly interrupted. After her return from the Nile in March, however, she developed anew her passion for making pins and chains and rings, and spent long afternoons in the studio on the Rue de l'Universite. Miss Comstock thought nothing of these absences; indeed, was relieved to have Adelle so harmlessly and elegantly employed. It is true that Adelle was working in the studio, but she was working under a new tutelage. A fellow-townsman of Miss Baxter's had turned up in Paris that autumn and frequented her studio as the only place where he could be sure of a welcome, warmth, and an occasional cup of tea. This young Californian, Archie Davis by name, had found his way to Paris as the traditional home of the arts, and expected to make himself famous as a painter. A graduate of the State University, he had been engaged by his father in vine culture on the sunny slopes of Santa Rosa, but the life of a California wine-grower had not appealed to him. From the slopes of Santa Rosa he soon drifted to San Francisco, and there conceived of himself as a painter. He was a large, vigorous, rather common young Californian, with reddish hair and a slightly freckled face, who was really at home on horseback in the wilds of his native land, but at a loss on the streets of Paris where he found himself frequently without much money. Viticulture was not paying well at this time in California, and Archie's father, in cutting down expenses all around, chose to begin with Archie, who had not done anything to assist the family fortunes. Archie took it good-naturedly and kept usually cheerful, though seedy and often hungry. He felt that his was the typical story of the artist, and if he would only persist, in spite of poverty and discouragement, he must ultimately become a great painter because of his discomfiture. "They can't freeze me out!" was a common saying on his lips, given with a toss of the head and a smiling face which made an impression upon women. Also his whistling philosophy, phrased as, "You never know your luck!" Miss Baxter, who had no great confidence in his ability, was kind to Archie Davis for the sake of California, where she had known his people, and because a single woman, no matter what her kind or condition may be, likes to have some man within call. Adelle met him, as she met dozens of other men, in the easy intimacy of the studio. At first she did not regard him nor he her. Sadie Paul, who happened to be present at the time, pronounced him a "bounder," which made no great impression upon Adelle, any more than had Miss Comstock's "cad" for the banker. It was not until she had settled in Paris for the spring and was a fairly regular worker in the studio that Archie began to play a part in her life. It is easy to see why they should draw together. Adelle, thanks to all the accessories that her money provided, presented a radiant and rare vision to the young Californian, who knew only women like Cornelia Baxter--mere workers--or the more vulgar intimacies of the streets and cafes. Adelle Clark did not resemble even the sturdy California lassies with whom he had been a favorite on the university campus. With her motors and gowns and jewels she was the exotic, the privileged goddess of wealth. To her Archie was at first mere Boy, then Youth. His seedy state did not disturb her. Though dainty in habit, she had not become delicate in instinct. And Archie's "freshness" amused her, his casual familiarity of the sort that exclaimed, while he fingered a bit of her handiwork,--"Say, girlie, but that is a peach of a ring!... Is it for Some One now?" She laughed at his "freshness," and felt perfectly at home with him. It was not until after several weeks of this acquaintanceship that the affair developed, unexpectedly, the opportunity being given. One rainy April afternoon when Adelle arrived at the studio she found it empty except for the presence of Archie Davis, who was dozing on the divan in front of the small stove. Adelle had come briskly up the stairs from her car, and the ride through the damp air had given her pale cheeks some color. She threw back her long coat, revealing a rose-colored bodice that made her quite pretty. Then the two discovered themselves alone in the big studio. Adelle had a faint consciousness of the fact, but supposing that Miss Baxter would return, she tossed aside her wrap and with a mere "Hello, Archie!" went over to the corner where on a small bench she was wont to pound and chisel and twist. "Say, but you look good enough to eat!" the youth remarked appreciatively. Adelle laughed at the compliment. "Why are you always thinking of eating?" she asked. "I guess because a good meal don't often come my way," he yawned in reply. Adelle wanted to find out why this was so, but could not frame her question to her satisfaction. Archie happened to be in one of those rare moments of melancholy introspection when he doubted even his divine calling to art. He was really hungry and somewhat cold, and life did not seem inviting. "I don't know," he observed after a time, "as this art game is all it looks to be from a distance--that is," he added, watching Adelle with appreciative eyes, "unless you happen to have the dough to support it on the side." "Aren't you painting?" Adelle asked after another pause. "Nope!" "Why not?" "I can't paint when I'm feeling bad." "What's the matter?..." According to the novelists love-making--"the approach of the sexes"--is an affair of infinite precision and fine intention; but according to nature, at least in those less self-conscious circles wherein are found the vast majority, it is one of the casual and apparently aimless forms of human contact. For a good hour these two played the ancient game, but the movements, the articulate ones, at least, were of the last degree of banality and insignificance--too trivial to recite even here. That consciousness of being alone with a young man, which had come over Adelle on her entrance, developed gradually into a pleasant sense of intimacy with Archie. Miss Baxter did not come back to make the tea, as she usually did at this hour. Adelle was acutely aware that the young man had counted on getting this tea and really needed the nourishment. She wanted to give him food, to be kind to him. At last she ventured to suggest,--"Don't you know some place around here where we could get something to eat? I guess Miss Baxter isn't coming back this afternoon." Archie instantly rose to the suggestion: he knew all the restaurants within the radius of two miles. And so, escorted by the young man, Adelle was soon entering a discreet small cafe, where, after infinite conversation with the proprietor, a tepid concoction was served with some excellent small cakes. Adelle then had one of the purest joys of her existence in watching the gusto with which the young Californian dispatched his tea and cakes even to the last crumbs of the brioche. She wanted to ask him to dine with her somewhere, but did not dare. In time they went back to the studio, which was now dark and still deserted, and after puttering for another half-hour Adelle departed in her car for the Villa Ponitowski. Nothing more momentous than what has been related happened, but both felt profoundly that something had happened. Archie, less daring or more skillful than his predecessor, did not press his advantage,--did not even ask to accompany the girl home,--and Adelle was left with the happy illusion of a mysterious human interest. _ |
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