He made me quite cross,--the feminine presentation of America,the spoiled woman who has shed responsibilities and is beginning to have a glimpse--just a little one--of the emptiness of it all."I was stirred.
"Then why do you accept it,if it isn't you?"I demanded."One doesn't refuse Czesky's canvases,"she replied."And what difference does it make?It amused him,and he was fairly subtle about it.Only those who are looking for romance,like you,are able to guess what he meant,and they would think they saw it anyway,even if he had painted me--extinct.""Extinct!"I repeated.
She laughed.
"Hugh,you're a silly old goose!"
"That's why I came here,I think,to be told so,"I said.
Tea was brought in.A sense of at-homeness stole over me,--I was more at home here in this room with Nancy,than in any other place in the world;here,where everything was at once soothing yet stimulating,expressive of her,even the smaller objects that caught my eye,--the crystal inkstand tipped with gold,the racks for the table books,her paper-cutter.Nancy's was a discriminating luxury.And her talk!The lightness with which she touched life,the unexplored depths of her,guessed at but never fathomed!Did she feel a little the need of me as Ifelt the need of her?
"Why,I believe you're incurably romantic,Hugh,"she said laughingly,when the men had left the room."Here you are,what they call a paragon of success,a future senator,Ambassador to England.I hear of those remarkable things you have done--even in New York the other day a man was asking me if I knew Mr.Paret,and spoke of you as one of the coming men.
I suppose you will be moving there,soon.A practical success!It always surprises me when I think of it,I find it difficult to remember what a dreamer you were and here you turn out to be still a dreamer!
Have you discovered,too,the emptiness of it all?"she inquired provokingly."I must say you don't look it"--she gave me a critical,quizzical glance--"you look quite prosperous and contented,as though you enjoyed your power."I laughed uneasily.
"And then,"she continued,"and then one day when your luncheon has disagreed with you--you walk into a gallery and see a portrait of--of an old friend for whom in youth,when you were a dreamer,you professed a sentimental attachment,and you exclaim that the artist is a discerning man who has discovered the secret that she has guarded so closely.She's sorry that she ever tried to console herself with baubles it's what you've suspected all along.But you'll just run around to see for yourself--to be sure of it."And she handed me my tea."Come now,confess.Where are your wits--I hear you don't lack them in court.""Well,"I said,"if that amuses you--""It does amuse me,"said Nancy,twining her fingers across her knee and regarding me smilingly,with parted lips,"it amuses me a lot--it's so characteristic.""But it's not true,it's unjust,"I protested vigorously,smiling,too,because the attack was so characteristic of her.
"What then?"she demanded.
"Well,in the first place,my luncheon didn't disagree with me.It never does."She laughed."But the sentiment--come now--the sentiment?Do you perceive any hint of emptiness--despair?"Our chairs were very close,and she leaned forward a little.
"Emptiness or no emptiness,"I said a little tremulously,"I know that Ihaven't been so contented,so happy for a long time."She sat very still,but turned her gaze on the fire.
"You really wouldn't want to find that,Hugh,"she said in another voice,at which I exclaimed."No,I'm not being sentimental.But,to be serious,I really shouldn't care to think that of you.I'd like to think of you as a friend--a good friend--although we don't see very much of one another.""But that's why I came,Nancy,"I explained."It wasn't just an impulse--that is,I've been thinking of you a great deal,all along.I miss you,I miss the way you look at things--your point of view.I can't see any reason why we shouldn't see something of each other--now--"She continued to stare into the fire.
"No,"she said at length,"I suppose there isn't any reason."Her mood seemed suddenly to change as she bent over and extinguished the flame under the kettle."After all,"she added gaily,"we live in a tolerant age,we've reached the years of discretion,and we're both too conventional to do anything silly--even if we wanted to--which we don't.
We're neither of us likely to quarrel with the world as it is,I think,and we might as well make fun of it together.We'll begin with our friends.What do you think of Mr.Scherer's palace?""I hear you're building it for him.""I told him to get Eyre,"said Nancy,laughingly,"I was afraid he'd repeat the Gallatin Park monstrosity on a larger scale,and Eyre's the only man in this country who understands the French.It's been rather amusing,"she went on,"I've had to fight Hilda,and she's no mean antagonist.How she hates me!She wanted a monstrosity,of course,a modernized German rock-grotto sort of an affair,I can imagine.She's been so funny when I've met her at dinner.'I understand you take a great interest in the house,Mrs.Durrett.'Can't you hear her?""Well,you did get ahead of her,"I said.
"I had to.I couldn't let our first citizen build a modern Rhine castle,could I?I have some public spirit left.And besides,I expect to build on Grant Avenue myself.""And leave here?""Oh,it's too grubby,it's in the slums,"said Nancy."But I really owe you a debt of gratitude,Hugh,for the Scherers.""I'm told Adolf's lost his head over you.""It's not only over me,but over everything.He's so ridiculously proud of being on the board of the Children's Hospital....You ought to hear him talking to old Mrs.Ogilvy,who of course can't get used to him at all,--she always has the air of inquiring what he's doing in that galley.
