<h3 id="id00991" style="margin-top: 3em">CHAPTER VI</h3>
<p id="id00992" style="margin-top: 2em"><i>The Song of a Bird</i></p>
<p id="id00993" style="margin-top: 2em">"Leslie," said the voice of Mrs. James Minturn over the telephone, "is
there any particular time of the day when that bird of yours sings
better than at another?"</p>
<p id="id00994">"Morning, Mrs. Minturn; five, the latest. At that time one hears the
full chorus, and sees the perfect beauty. Really, I wouldn't ask you,
if I were not sure, positively sure, that you'd find the trip worth
while."</p>
<p id="id00995">"I'll be ready in the morning, but that's an unearthly hour!" came the
protest.</p>
<p id="id00996">"It is almost unearthly sights and sounds to which you are going,"
answered Leslie. "And be sure you wear suitable clothing."</p>
<p id="id00997">"What do you call suitable clothing?"</p>
<p id="id00998">"High heavy shoes," said Leslie, "short stout skirts."</p>
<p id="id00999">"As if I had such things!" laughed Mrs. Minturn.</p>
<p id="id01000">"Let me send you something of mine," offered Leslie. "I've enough for
two."</p>
<p id="id01001">"You're not figuring on really going in one of those awful places, are
you?" questioned Mrs. Minturn.</p>
<p id="id01002">"Surely!" cried Leslie. "The birds won't sing to an automobile. And you
wouldn't miss seeing such flowers on their stems as you saw at Lowry's
for any money. It will be something to tell your friends about."</p>
<p id="id01003">"Send what I should have. I'd ride a llama through a sea of champagne
for a new experience."</p>
<p id="id01004">Mrs. Minturn turned from the telephone with a contemptuous sneer on her
face; but Leslie's gay laugh persisted in her ears. Restlessly she
moved through her rooms thinking what she might do to divert herself,
and shrinking from all the tiresome things she had been doing for years
until there was not a drop of the fresh juice of life to be extracted
from them.</p>
<p id="id01005">"I'm going to take a bath, go to bed early and see if I can sleep," she
muttered. "I don't know what it is that James is contemplating, but his
face haunts me. Really, if he doesn't be more civil, and stop his
morose glowering when I do see him, I'll put him or myself where we
won't come in contact. He makes it plain every day that he blames me
about Elizabeth. Why should he? He couldn't possibly know of the call
of that wild-eyed reformer. So unfortunate that she should come just at
that time too! Of course hundreds of children die from spoiled milk
every summer, the rich as well as the poor. I'll never get over
regretting that I didn't finish what I started to do; but I'd scarcely
touched her in her life. She always was so pink and warm, and that
awful whiteness chilled me to the soul. I wish I had driven, forced
myself! Then I could defy James with more spirit. That's what I
lack—<i>spirit!</i> Maybe this trip to the swamp will steady my nerves!
Something must be done soon, and I believe, actually I believe he is
thinking of doing it! Pooh! What <i>could</i> he do? There isn't an
irregularity in my life he can lay his fingers on!"</p>
<p id="id01006">She rang for her maid and cancelling two engagements for the evening,
went to bed, but not to sleep. When she was called early in the
morning, she gladly arose, and was dressed in Leslie Winton's short
skirts, a waist of khaki, and high shoes near enough her size to be
comfortable. Her bath had refreshed her, a cup of hot coffee stimulated
her, and despite the lack of sleep she felt better than she had that
spring as she went down to the car. On the threshold she met her
husband. Evidently he had been out all night on strenuous business. His
face was haggard, his eyes bloodshot, while in both hands he gripped a
small, square paper-wrapped package. They looked at each other a second
that seemed long to both, then the woman laughed.</p>
<p id="id01007">"Evidently an accounting is expected," she said. "Leslie Winton at the
door and the roll of music I carry should be sufficient to prove why I
am going out at this hour. You heard us make the arrangement. Thank
Heaven I've no interest in knowing where you have been, or what your
precious package contains."</p>
<p id="id01008">His expression and condition frightened her.</p>
<p id="id01009">"For the weight of a straw overbalance," he said, "only for a hint that
you have a soul, I'd freeze it for all time with the contents of this
package."</p>
<p id="id01010">"A threat? You to me?" she cried in amazement.</p>
<p id="id01011">"Verily, Madam," he said. "I wish you all the joy of the birds and
flowers this morning."</p>
<p id="id01012">"You've gone mad!" she cried.</p>
<p id="id01013">"Contrarily, I have come to my senses after years of insanity," he
said. "I will see you when you return."</p>
<p id="id01014">She stood bewildered, watching him go down the hall and enter his
library. That and his sleeping room were the only places in the house
sacred to him. No one entered, no one, not even the incorrigible
children, touched anything there. She slowly went to the car, trying to
rally to Leslie's greeting, struggling to fix her mind on anything
pointed out to her as something she might enjoy.</p>
<p id="id01015">At last she said: "I don't know what is the matter with me Leslie.
James is planning something, I haven't an idea what; but his grim,
reproachful face is slowly driving me wild. I'm getting so I can't
sleep. You saw him come home as I left. He talked positively crazy, as
if he had the crack of doom in his hands and were prepared to crack it.
He said he 'would see me when I came back.' Indeed he will—to his
sorrow! He will be as he used to be, or we will separate. The idea,
with scarcely a cent to his name, of him undertaking to dictate to me,
<i>to me!</i> Do you blame me Leslie? You heard him the other day! You know
how he insulted me!"</p>
<p id="id01016">Leslie leaned forward, laying a firm hand in a grip on Mrs. Minturn's
arm.</p>
<p id="id01017">"Since you ask me," she said, "I will answer. If you find life with Mr.
Minturn insufferable, an agony to both of you, I <i>would</i> separate, and
<i>speedily</i>. If it has come to the place where you can't see each other
or speak without falling into unpleasantness, then I'd keep apart."</p>
<p id="id01018">"That is exactly the case!" cried Mrs. Minturn. "Oh Leslie, I am so
glad you agree with me!"</p>
<p id="id01019">"But I haven't finished," said Leslie, "you interrupted me in the
middle. If you are absolutely sure you can't go on peaceably, I would
stop; but if I once had loved a man enough to give my life and my
happiness into his keeping, to make him the father of my children, I
would not separate from him, until I had exhausted every resource, to
see if I couldn't in some possible way end with credit."</p>
<p id="id01020">"If you had been through what I have," said Mrs. Minturn, "you wouldn't
endure it any longer."</p>
<p id="id01021">"Perhaps," said Leslie. "But you see dear Mrs. Minturn, I am
handicapped by not knowing <i>what</i> you have been through. To your world
you appear to be a woman of great wealth, who does exactly as she
pleases and pays her own bills. You seem to have unlimited money,
power, position, leisure for anything you fancy. I'll wager you don't
know the names of half the servants in your house; a skillful
housekeeper takes the responsibility off your hands. You never are seen
in public with your children; competent nurses care for them. You don't
appear with your husband any more; yet he is a man of fine brain,
unimpeachable character, who handles big affairs for other men, and
father says he believes his bank account would surprise you. He has
been in business for years; surely all he makes doesn't go to other
men."</p>
<p id="id01022">"You know I never thought of that!" cried Mrs. Minturn. "He had nothing
to begin on and I've always kept our establishment; he's never paid for
more than his clothing. Do you suppose that he has made money?"</p>
<p id="id01023">"I know that he has!" said Leslie. "Not so fast as he might! Not so
much as he could, for he is incorruptible; but money, yes! He is a
powerful man, not only in the city, but all over the state. Some of
these days you're going to wake up to find him a Senator, or Governor.
You seem to be the only person who doesn't know it, or who doesn't care
if you do. But when it comes about, as it will, you'll be so proud of
him! Dear Mrs. Minturn, please, please go slowly! Don't, oh don't let
anything happen that will make a big regret for both."</p>
<p id="id01024">"Leslie, where did you get all this?" asked Mrs. Minturn in tones of
mingled interest and surprise.</p>
<p id="id01025">"From my father!" answered Leslie. "And from Douglas Bruce. Douglas'
office is across the hall from Mr. Minturn's; they meet daily, and from
the first they have been friends. Mr. Minturn took Douglas to his
clubs, introduced him and helped him into business, so often they work
together. Why only yesterday Douglas came to me filled with delight.
Mr. Minturn secured an appointment for him to make an investigation for
the city which will be a great help to Douglas. It will bring him in
contact with prominent men, give him big work and a sample of how
mercenary I am—it will bring him big pay and he knows how to use the
money in a big way. Douglas knows Mr. Minturn so well, and respects him
so highly, yet no one can know him as you do——"</p>
<p id="id01026">"That is quite true! I live with him! I know the real man!" cried Mrs.<br/>
Minturn.<br/></p>
<p id="id01027">"How mean of you!" laughed Leslie, "to distort my reasoning like that!
I don't ask you to think up all the little things that have massed into
one big grievance against him; I mean stop that for to-day, out here in
the country where everything is so lovely, and go back where I am."</p>
<p id="id01028">"He surely has an advocate! Leslie, when did you start making an
especial study of Mr. Minturn?"</p>
<p id="id01029">"When Douglas Bruce began speaking to me so frequently of him!"
answered Leslie. "Then I commenced to watch him and to listen to what
people were saying about him, and to ask Daddy."</p>
<p id="id01030">"It's very funny that every one seems so well informed and so
enthusiastic just at the time when I feel that life is unendurable with
him," said Mrs. Minturn. "I can't understand it!"</p>
<p id="id01031">"Mrs. Minturn, try, oh do try to get my viewpoint before you do
anything irreparable," begged Leslie. "Away up here in the woods let's
think it out! Let's discuss James Minturn in every phase of his nature
and see if the big manly part doesn't far outweigh the little
irritations. Let's see if you can't possibly go to the meeting he wants
when we return with a balance struck in his favour. A divorced woman is
always—well, it's disagreeable. Alone you'd feel stranded. Attempt
marrying again, where would you find a man with half the points that
count for good, to replace him? In after years when your children
realize the man he is, how are you going to explain to them why you
couldn't live with him?"</p>
<p id="id01032">"From your rush of words, it is evident you have your arguments at
hand," said Mrs. Minturn. "You've been thinking more about my affairs
than I ever did. You bring up points I never have thought of; you make
me see things that would not have occurred to me; yet as you put them,
they have awful force. You haven't exactly said it, but what you mean
is that you believe <i>me</i> in the wrong; so do all my friends. All of you
sympathize with Mr. Minturn! All of you think him a big man worthy of
every consideration and me deserving none."</p>
<p id="id01033">"You're putting that too strong," retorted Leslie. "You are right about
Mr. Minturn; but I won't admit that I find you 'worthy of no
consideration at all,' or I wouldn't be imploring you to give yourself
a chance at happiness."</p>
<p id="id01034">"'Give myself a chance at happiness!'"</p>
<p id="id01035">"Dear Mrs. Minturn, yes!" said Leslie. "All your life, so far, you have
lived absolutely for yourself; for your personal pleasure. Has
happiness resulted?"</p>
<p id="id01036">"Happiness?" cried Mrs. Minturn in amazement. "You little fool! With my
husband practically a madman, my children incorrigible, my nerves on
edge until I can't sleep, because one thought comes over and over."</p>
<p id="id01037">"Well you achieved it in society!" said Leslie. "It's the result of
doing exactly what you <i>wanted to!</i> You can't say James Minturn was to
blame for what you had the money and the desire to do. You can't think
your babies would have preferred their mother to the nurses and
governesses they have had——"</p>
<p id="id01038">"If you say another word about that I'll jump from the car and break my
neck," threatened Mrs. Minturn. "No one sympathizes with me!"</p>
<p id="id01039">"That is untrue," said Leslie. "I care, or I wouldn't be doing what I
am now. And as for sympathy, I haven't a doubt but every woman of your
especial set will weep tears of condolence with you, if you'll tell
them what you have me. There is Mrs. Clinton and Mrs. Farley, and a
dozen women among your dearest friends who have divorced their
husbands, and are free lances or remarried; you can have friends enough
to suit you in any event."</p>
<p id="id01040">"Fools! Shallow-pated fools!" cried Mrs. Minturn. "They never read
anything! Their idea of any art would convulse you! They don't know a
note of real music!"</p>
<p id="id01041">"But they are your best friends," interposed Leslie. "What then is
their attraction?"</p>
<p id="id01042">"I am sure I don't know!" said Mrs. Minturn. "I suppose it's unlimited
means to follow any fad or fancy, to live extravagantly as they choose,
to dress faultlessly as they have taste, freedom to go as they please!
Oh they do have a good time!"</p>
<p id="id01043">"Are you sure that they didn't go through the same 'good time' you are
having right now, before they lost the men they loved and married, and
then became mothers who later deliberately orphaned their own children?"</p>
<p id="id01044">"Leslie, for God's sake where did you learn it?" cried Mrs. Minturn.<br/>
"How can you hit like that? You make me feel like a—like a——! Oh<br/>
Lord!"<br/></p>
<p id="id01045">"Don't let's talk any more, Mrs. Minturn," suggested Leslie. "You know
what all refined, home-loving people think. You know society and what
it has to offer. You're making yourself unhappy, while I am helping
you, but if some one doesn't stop you, you may lose the love of a good
man, the respect of the people worth while, and later of your own
children! See, here is the swamp and this is as close as we can go with
the car."</p>
<p id="id01046">"Is this where you found the flowers for your basket?"</p>
<p id="id01047">"Yes," said Leslie.</p>
<p id="id01048">"No snakes, no quicksands?"</p>
<p id="id01049">"Snakes don't like this kind of moss," answered Leslie; "this is an old
lake bed grown up with tamaracks and the bog of a thousand years."</p>
<p id="id01050">"Looks as if ten thousand might come closer!"</p>
<p id="id01051">"Where you ever in such a place?" asked Leslie.</p>
<p id="id01052">"Never!" said Mrs. Minturn.</p>
<p id="id01053">"Well to do this to perfection," said Leslie, "we should go far enough
for you to see the home life of our rarest wild flowers and to get the
music full effect. We must look for a high place to spread this
waterproof sheet I have brought along, then nestle down and keep still.
The birds will see us going in, but if we make ourselves inconspicuous,
they will soon forget us. Have you the score?"</p>
<p id="id01054">"Yes," answered Mrs. Minturn. "Go ahead!"</p>
<p id="id01055">Leslie had not expected Mrs. Minturn's calm tones and placid acceptance
of the swamp. The girl sent one searching look the woman's way, then
came enlightenment. This was a stunt. Mrs. Minturn had been doing
stunts in the hope of new sensations all her life. What others could
do, she could, if she chose; in this instance she chose to penetrate a
tamarack swamp at six o'clock in the morning, to listen to the notes of
a bird.</p>
<p id="id01056">"I'll select the highest places and go as nearly where we were as I
can," said Leslie. "If you step in my tracks you'll be all right."</p>
<p id="id01057">"Why, you're not afraid, are you?" asked Mrs. Minturn.</p>
<p id="id01058">"Not in the least," said Leslie. "Are you?"</p>
<p id="id01059">"No!" said Mrs. Minturn. "One strikes almost everything motoring
through the country, in the mountains or at sea, and travelling. This
looks interesting. How deep could one sink anyway?"</p>
<p id="id01060">"Deeply enough to satisfy you," laughed Leslie. "Come quietly now!"</p>
<p id="id01061">Grasping the score she carried, Mrs. Minturn unconcernedly plunged
after Leslie. Purposely the girl went slowly, stooping beneath
branches, skirting too wet places, slipping over the high hummocks,
turning to indicate by gesture a moss bed, a flower, or glancing upward
to try to catch a glimpse of some entrancing musician.</p>
<p id="id01062">Once Leslie turned to look back and saw Mrs. Minturn on her knees
separating the silvery green moss heads and thrusting her hand deeply
to learn the length of the roots. She noticed the lady's absorbed face,
and the wet patches spreading around her knees. Leslie fancied she
could see Mrs. Minturn entering the next gathering of her friends,
smiling faintly and crying: "Dear people, I've had a perfectly new
experience!" She could hear every tone of Mrs. Minturn's voice saying:
"Ferns as luxuriant as anything in Florida! Moss beds several feet
deep. A hundred birds singing, and all before sunrise, my dears!" When
Mrs. Minturn arose Leslie went forward slowly until she reached the
moccasin flowers, but remembering, she did not stop. The woman did. She
stooped and Leslie winced as she snapped one to examine it critically.
She held it up in the gray light, turning it.</p>
<p id="id01063">"Did you ever see—little Elizabeth?" she asked.</p>
<p id="id01064">"Yes," said Leslie.</p>
<p id="id01065">"Do you think——?" She stopped abruptly.</p>
<p id="id01066">"That one is too deep," said Leslie. "The colour he saw was on a
freshly opened one like that."</p>
<p id="id01067">She pointed to a paler moccasin of exquisite pink with red lavender
veining. Mrs. Minturn assented.</p>
<p id="id01068">"He can't forget anything," she said, "or let any one else. He always
will keep harping."</p>
<p id="id01069">"We were peculiarly unfortunate that day," said Leslie. "He really had
no intention of saying anything, if he hadn't been forced."</p>
<p id="id01070">"Oh he doesn't require forcing," said Mrs. Minturn. "He's always at the
overflow point about her."</p>
<p id="id01071">"Perhaps he was very fond of her," suggested Leslie.</p>
<p id="id01072">"He was perfectly foolish about her," said Mrs. Minturn impatiently. "I
lost a nurse or two through his interference. When I got such a
treasure as Lucette I just told her to take complete charge, make him
attend his own affairs, and not try being a nursery maid. It really
isn't done these days!"</p>
<p id="id01073">Leslie closed her lips, moving forward until she reached the space
where the ragged boys and the fringed girls floated their white
banners, where lacy yellow and lavender blooms caressed each other,
there on the highest place she could select, across a moss-covered log,
she spread the waterproof sheet, and seating herself, motioned Mrs.
Minturn to do the same. She reached for the music and opening it ran
over the score. Her finger paused on the notes she had whistled, while
with eager face she sat waiting.</p>
<p id="id01074">Mrs. Minturn dropped into an attitude of tense listening. The sun began
dissipating the gray mists and heightening the exquisite tints on all
sides. Every green imaginable was there from palest silver to the
deepest, darkest shades; all dew wet, rankly growing, gold tinted and
showing clearer each minute. Gradually Mrs. Minturn relaxed, made
herself comfortable as possible, then turned to the orchids of the open
space. The colour flushed and faded on her tired face, she nervously
rolled the moccasin stem in her fingers, or looked long at the delicate
flower. She was thinking so intently that Leslie saw she was neither
seeing the swamp, nor hearing the birds.</p>
<p id="id01075">It was then that a little gray singer straying through the tamaracks
sent a wireless to his mate in the bushes of borderland, in which he
wished to convey to her all there was in his heart about the wonders of
spring, the joy of mating, the love of her, and their nest. He waited a
second, then tucking his tail, swelled his throat, and made sure he had
done his best.</p>
<p id="id01076">At the first measure, Leslie thrust the sheet before Mrs. Minturn,
pointing to the place. Instantly the woman scanned the score, then
leaned forward listening. As the bird flew, Leslie faced Mrs. Minturn
with questioning eyes. She cried softly: "He did it! Perfectly! If I
hadn't heard I never would have believed."</p>
<p id="id01077">"There is another that can do this from Verdi's <i>Traviata</i>." Leslie
whistled the notes. "We may hear him also."</p>
<p id="id01078">Again they waited. Leslie realized that Mrs. Minturn was not listening,
and would have to be recalled if the bird sang. Leslie sat silent. The
same bird sang, and others, but to the girl had come the intuition that
Mrs. Minturn was having her hour in the garden, so wisely she remained
silent. After an interminable time she arose, making her way forward as
far as she could penetrate and still see the figure of the woman, then
hunting an old stump, climbed upon it and did some thinking herself.</p>
<p id="id01079">At last she returned to the motionless figure. Mrs. Minturn was leaning
against the tamarack's scraggy trunk, her head resting on a branch,
lightly sleeping. A rivulet staining her cheeks from each eye showed
where slow tears had slipped from under her closed lids. Leslie's heart
ached with pity. She thought she never had seen any one seem so sad, so
alone, so punished for sins of inheritance and rearing. She sat beside
Mrs. Minturn, waiting until she awakened.</p>
<p id="id01080">"Why I must have fallen asleep!" she cried.</p>
<p id="id01081">"For a minute," said Leslie.</p>
<p id="id01082">"But I feel as if I had rested soundly a whole night," said Mrs.
Minturn. "I'm so refreshed. And there goes that bird again. Verdi to
take his notes! Who ever would have thought of it? Leslie, did you
bring any lunch? I'm famished."</p>
<p id="id01083">"We must go back to the car," said Leslie.</p>
<p id="id01084">They spread the waterproof sheet on the ground where it would be
bordered with daintily traced partridge berry, and white-lined plantain
leaves, and sitting on it ate their lunch. Leslie did what she could to
interest Mrs. Minturn and cheer her, but at last that lady said: "Thank
you dear, you are very good to me; but you can't entertain me to-day.
Some other time we'll come back and bring the scores you suggest, and
see what we can really hear from these birds. But to-day, I've got the
battle of my life to fight. Something is coming; I should be in a
measure prepared, and as I don't know what to expect, it takes all the
brains I have to figure things out."</p>
<p id="id01085">"You don't know, Mrs. Minturn?" asked Leslie.</p>
<p id="id01086">"No," she said wearily. "I know James hates the life I lead; he thinks
my time wasted. I know he's a disappointed man, because he thought when
he married me he could cut me out of everything worth while in the
world, and set me to waiting on him, and nursing his children. Every
single thing I have done since, or wanted or had, has been a
disappointment to him. I know now he never would have married me, if he
hadn't figured he was going to make me over; shape me and my life to
suit his whims, and throw away my money to please his fancies. He's
been utterly discontented since Elizabeth was born. Why Leslie, we
haven't lived together since then. He said if I were going to persist
in bringing 'orphans' into the world, babies I wouldn't mother myself,
or wouldn't allow him to father, there would be no more children. I
laughed at him, because I didn't think he meant it; but he did, so that
ended even a semblance of content. Half the time I don't know where he
is, or what he is doing; he seldom knows where I am; if we appear
together it is accidental; I thought I had my mind made up to leave
him, and soon; but what you say, coupled with doubts I had myself, have
set me to thinking, till I don't know. I hate a scandal. You know how
careful I always have been. All my closest friends have jeered me for a
prude; there isn't a flaw he can find, there has been none!"</p>
<p id="id01087">"Certainly not," said Leslie. "Every one knows that."</p>
<p id="id01088">"Leslie, you don't know, do you?" asked Mrs. Minturn. "He didn't say
anything to Bruce, did he?"</p>
<p id="id01089">"You want an honest answer?" questioned Leslie.</p>
<p id="id01090">"Of course I do!" cried Mrs. Minturn.</p>
<p id="id01091">"Douglas did tell me in connection with Mr. Minturn joining the
Brotherhood and taking a gamin from the streets into his office, that
he said he was scarcely allowed to see his own sons, not to exercise
the slightest control, so he was going to try his theories on a Little
Brother. But Douglas wouldn't mention it, only to me, and of course I
wouldn't repeat it to any one. Mr. Minturn seemed to feel that Douglas
thought it peculiar for a man having sons, to take so much pains with a
newsboy; they're great friends, so he said that much to Bruce."</p>
<p id="id01092">"'He said that much——'" scoffed Mrs. Minturn.</p>
<p id="id01093">"Well, even so, that is very little compared with what you've said
about him to me," retorted Leslie. "You shouldn't complain on that
score."</p>
<p id="id01094">"I suppose, in your eyes, I shouldn't complain about anything," said<br/>
Mrs. Minturn.<br/></p>
<p id="id01095">"A world of things, Mrs. Minturn, but not the ones you do," said Leslie.</p>
<p id="id01096">"Oh!" cried Mrs. Minturn.</p>
<p id="id01097">"I think your grievance is that you were born in, and reared for,
society," said Leslie, "and in your extremity it has failed you. I
believe I can give you more help to-day than any woman of your age and
intimate association."</p>
<p id="id01098">"That's true Leslie, quite true!" exclaimed Mrs. Minturn eagerly. "And<br/>
I need help! Oh I do!"<br/></p>
<p id="id01099">"You poor soul, you!" comforted Leslie. "Turn where you belong! Turn to
your own blood!"</p>
<p id="id01100">"My mother would jeer me for a weakling," said Mrs. Minturn. "She has
urged me to divorce James, ever since Elizabeth was born."</p>
<p id="id01101">"I didn't mean your mother," said Leslie. "I meant closer relatives, I
meant your husband and sons."</p>
<p id="id01102">"My husband would probably tell me he had lost all respect for me,
while my sons would very likely pull my hair and kick my shins if I
knelt to them for sympathy," said Mrs. Minturn. "They are perfect
little animals."</p>
<p id="id01103">"Oh Mrs. Minturn!" cried Leslie amazed. "Then you simply must take them
in charge and save them; they are so fine looking, while you're their
mother, you are!"</p>
<p id="id01104">"It means giving up life as I have known it always, just about
everything!" said Mrs. Minturn.</p>
<p id="id01105">"Look at yourself now!" said Leslie. "I should think you would be glad
to give up your present state."</p>
<p id="id01106">"Leslie, do you think it wrong to gather those orchids?"</p>
<p id="id01107">"I think it unpardonable sin to <i>exterminate</i> them," answered Leslie.
"If you have any reason for wanting a few, and merely gather the
flowers, leaving the roots to spread and bloom another year, I should
say take them."</p>
<p id="id01108">"Will you wait in the car until I go back?" she asked.</p>
<p id="id01109">"But I wish to be alone," said Mrs. Minturn.</p>
<p id="id01110">"You're not afraid? You won't become lost?"</p>
<p id="id01111">"I am not afraid, and I will not lose myself," said Mrs. Minturn. "Must<br/>
I hurry?"<br/></p>
<p id="id01112">"Take all the time you want," said Leslie.</p>
<p id="id01113">It was mid-afternoon when she returned, her hands filled with a
dripping moss ball in which she had embedded the stems of a mass of
feathery pink-fringed orchids. Her face was flushed with tears, but her
eyes were bright, her step quick and alert.</p>
<p id="id01114">"Leslie, what do you think I am going to do?" she cried. Then without
awaiting a reply: "I'm going to ask James to go with me to take these
to Elizabeth, to beg him to forgive my neglect of her; to pledge the
rest of my life to him and the boys."</p>
<p id="id01115">Leslie caught Mrs. Minturn in her arms. "Oh you darling!" she exulted.<br/>
"Oh you brave, wonderful girl!"<br/></p>
<p id="id01116">"After all, it's no more than fair," Mrs. Minturn said. "I have had
everything my way since we were married. And I did love James. He's the
only man I have ever really wanted. Leslie, he will forgive me and
start over, won't he?"</p>
<p id="id01117">"He'll be at your feet!" cried Leslie.</p>
<p id="id01118">"Fortunately, I have decided to be at his," said Mrs. Minturn. "I've
reached the place where I will even wipe James Jr.'s nose and dress
Malcolm, and fix James' studs if it will help me to sleep, and have
only a tinge of what you seem to be running over with. Leslie, you are
the most joyous soul!"</p>
<p id="id01119">"You see, I never had to think about myself," said Leslie. "Daddy
always thought for me, so there was nothing left for me to spend my
time and thought on but him. It was a beautiful arrangement."</p>
<p id="id01120">"Leslie, this is your car, but won't you dear, drive fast!" begged Mrs.<br/>
Minturn.<br/></p>
<p id="id01121">"Of course Nellie!" exclaimed the girl.</p>
<p id="id01122">"Leslie, will you stand by me, and show me the way, all you can?" asked
Mrs. Minturn anxiously. "I'll lose every friend I have got; my house
must be torn down and built up from the basement on a new system, as to
management; and I haven't an idea <i>how</i> to do it. Oh, I hope James can
help me."</p>
<p id="id01123">"You may be sure James will know and can help you," comforted Leslie.
"You'll be leaving for the seashore in a few days; install a complete
new retinue, and begin all fresh. Half the servants you keep, really
interested in their work, would make you far more comfortable than you
are now."</p>
<p id="id01124">"Yes, I think that too!" agreed Mrs. Minturn eagerly. "Some way I feel
as if I were turning against Lucette. I never want to see her again,
after I tell her to go; not that I know what I shall do without her.
The boys will probably burn down the house, and where I'll find a woman
who will tolerate them, I don't know."</p>
<p id="id01125">"Employ a man until you get control," suggested Leslie. "They are both
old enough; hire a man, and explain all you want to him. They'd be
afraid of a man."</p>
<p id="id01126">"Afraid!" cried Mrs. Minturn. "They are afraid of Lucette! I can't
understand it. I wonder if James——"</p>
<p id="id01127">"Poor James!" laughed Leslie. "Honestly Nellie, don't impose too much
of your—your work on him. Undertake it yourself. Show him what a woman
you are."</p>
<p id="id01128">"Great Heavens, Leslie, you don't know what you are saying!" cried Mrs.<br/>
Minturn. "My only hope lies in deceiving him. If I showed him the woman<br/>
I am, as I saw myself back there in that swamp an hour ago, he'd take<br/>
one look, and strangle me for the public good."<br/></p>
<p id="id01129">"How ridiculous!" exclaimed Leslie. "Why must a woman always rush from
one extreme to the other? Choose a middle course and keep it."</p>
<p id="id01130">"That's what I am telling you I must do," said Mrs. Minturn. "Leslie,
it is wonderful how I feel. I'm almost flying. Do you honestly think it
is possible that there is going to be something new, something
interesting, something really worth while in the world for me?"</p>
<p id="id01131">"I know it," said Leslie. "Such interest, such novelty, such joy as you
never have experienced!"</p>
<p id="id01132">With that hope in her heart, her eyes filled with excitement, Nellie<br/>
Minturn rang her bell, ran past her footman and hurried up the stairs.<br/>
She laid her flowers on a table, summoned her maid, then began throwing<br/>
off her hat and outer clothing.<br/></p>
<p id="id01133">"Do you know if Mr. Minturn is here?"</p>
<p id="id01134">"Yes. He——" began the maid.</p>
<p id="id01135">"Never mind what 'he.' Get out the prettiest, simplest dress I own, and
the most becoming," she ordered. "Be quick! Can't you see I'm in a
hurry?"</p>
<p id="id01136">"Mrs. Minturn, I think you will thank me for telling you there is an
awful row in the library," said the maid.</p>
<p id="id01137">"'An awful row?'" Mrs. Minturn paused.</p>
<p id="id01138">"Yes. I think they are killing Lucette," explained the maid. "She's
shrieked bloody murder two or three times."</p>
<p id="id01139">"Who? What do you mean?" demanded Mrs. Minturn.</p>
<p id="id01140">She slipped on the bathrobe she had picked up, and stood holding it
together, gazing at the maid.</p>
<p id="id01141">"Mr. Minturn came with two men. One was a park policeman we know. They
went into the library and sent for Lucette. There she goes again!"</p>
<p id="id01142">"Is there any way I could see, could hear, what is going on, without
being seen?"</p>
<p id="id01143">"There's a door to the den from the back hall, and that leads to the
library," suggested the maid.</p>
<p id="id01144">"Show me! Help me!" begged Mrs. Minturn.</p>
<p id="id01145">As they passed the table the orchids hanging over the edge caught on
the trailing robe and started to fall. Mrs. Minturn paused to push them
back, then studied the flowers an instant, and catching up the bunch
carried it along. She closed the den door after her without a sound,
and creeping beside the wall, hid behind the door curtain and peeped
into the library. There were two men who evidently were a detective and
a policeman. She saw Lucette backed against the wall, her hands
clenched, her eyes wild with fear. She saw her husband's back, and on
the table beside him a little box, open, its wrappings near, its
contents terrifying to the woman.</p>
<p id="id01146">"To sum up then," said Mr. Minturn in tones she never before had heard:
"I can put on oath this man, who will be forced to tell what he
witnessed or be impeached by others who saw it at the same time, and
<i>are ready to testify to what he said;</i> I can produce the boy who came
to tell me the part he took in it; I have the affidavit and have just
come from the woman who interfered and followed you here in an effort
to save Elizabeth; I have this piece of work in my hands, done by one
of the greatest scientists and two of the best surgeons living.
Although you shrink from it, I take pleasure in showing it to you. This
ragged seam is an impress of the crack you made in a tiny skull lying
in a vault out at Forest Hill."</p>
<p id="id01147">He paused, holding a plaster cast before the woman.</p>
<p id="id01148">"It's a little bit of a thing," he said deliberately. "She was a tiny
creature to have been done to death at your hands. I hope you will see
that small pink face as I see it, and feel the soft hair in your
fingers, and—after all, I can't go on with that. But I am telling you,
and showing you exactly what you are facing, because you must go from
this house with these men; your things will be sent. You must leave
this city and this country on the boat they take you to, and where you
go you will be watched; if ever you dare take service handling a
<i>child</i> again, I shall have you promptly arrested and forced to answer
for the cold-blooded murder of my little daughter. Live you must, I
suppose, but not longer by the torture of children. Go, before I
strangle you as you deserve!"</p>
<p id="id01149">How Mrs. Minturn came to be standing beside her husband, she never
afterward knew; only that she was, pulling down his arm to stare at the
white cast. Then she looked up at him and said simply: "But Lucette
didn't murder her; it was I. I was her mother. I knew she was beaten. I
knew she was abused! I didn't stop my pleasure to interfere, lest I
should lose a minute by having to see to her myself! A woman did come
to me, and a boy! I knew they were telling the truth! I didn't know it
was so bad, but I knew it must have been dreadful, to bring them. I had
my chance to save her. I went to her as the woman told me to, and
because she was quiet, I didn't even turn her over. I didn't run a
finger across her little head. I didn't call a surgeon. I preferred an
hour of pleasure to taking the risk of being disturbed. I am quite as
guilty as Lucette! Have them take me with her."</p>
<p id="id01150">James Minturn stepped back, gazing at his wife. Then he motioned the
men toward the door, so with the woman they left the room.</p>
<p id="id01151">"Lucette just had her sentence," he said, "now for yours! Words are
useless! I am leaving your house with my sons. They <i>are</i> my sons, and
with the proof I hold, you will not claim them. If you do, you will not
get them. I am taking them to the kind of a house I deem suitable for
them, and to such care as I can provide. I shall keep them in my
presence constantly as possible until I see just what harm has been
done, and how to remedy what can be changed. I shall provide such
teachers as I see fit for them, and devote the remainder of my life to
them. All I ask of you is to spare them the disgrace of forcing me to
<i>prove</i> my right to them, or ever having them realize just <i>what</i>
happened to their sister, and <i>your</i> part in it."</p>
<p id="id01152">She held the flowers toward him.</p>
<p id="id01153">"I brought these——" she began, then paused. "You wouldn't believe me,
if I should tell you. You are right! Perfectly justified! Of course I
shall not bring this before the public. Go!"</p>
<p id="id01154">At the door he looked back. She had dropped into a chair beside the
table, holding the cast in one hand, the fringed orchids in the other.</p>
<div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />