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She dropped them in Chicago, and came to Weir for rest. The evening of her arrival she strolled with Frances through the park, listening to the story of George's sudden wooing, and the quiet, hurried wedding. "It had to be quiet and hurried," said Mrs. Waldeaux, "in order to keep her ignorant of her change of fortune. He took her to the Virginia mountains, so that no newspapers could reach her.
But how eccentric all of these Americans were! Mrs. Waldeaux reached Vannes at nightfall. At last! Here was the place in this great empty world where he was. When the diligence entered the courtyard, George was so near to the gate that the smoke of his cigar was blown into her face, but he did not see her. He was lean and pale, and his eyes told his misery.
"And the money that they were flinging into the gutter was earned day by day by his old mother! Every dollar of it! I know that during the last year she has done without proper clothes and food to send their allowance to them." "You forget," said Lucy, "that George Waldeaux was doing noble work in the world. It was a small thing for his mother to help him." "Noble work?
I can't place her!" staring after her, perplexed. "I really don't believe I ever saw her before. Yet her face brings up some old story of a tragedy or crime to me." "Nonsense! The girl is not twenty. Very fetching with all her vulgarity, though. Steward, send some coffee to my stateroom. Let's go down, Jem. The fog is too chilly." Frances Waldeaux did not find the fog chilly.
"If a lizard crawls into my house will you tell me to accept it? Make the best of it? Oh, my God! The slimy vile creature!" "She is not vile! I tell you there are lovable qualities in Lisa. And even if she were as wicked as her mother, what right have you You, too, are a sinner before God." "No," said Mrs. Waldeaux gravely, "I am not. I have lived a good Christian life.
She is a sincere, modest, happy little thing. Not too clever. She is an heiress, too. And her family is good; and all underground, which is another advantage. You can mould her as you choose. She loves you already." "Or is it that she ?" "You have no right to ask that!" said Miss Vance quickly. "No, I am ashamed of myself." Mrs. Waldeaux reddened. A group of girls came up the deck.
But when I read your article, George do you know if I had written it I should have used just the phrases you did? And you signed it 'Sidney'!" She watched him breathlessly. "That was more than a coincidence, don't you think? I AM dumb, but you speak for me now. It is because we are just one. Don't you think so, George?" She held his arm tightly. Young Waldeaux burst into a loud laugh.
"And I," he used to think, "was born with an old head on my shoulders; so we have grown up together. I suppose the dear soul never had a thought in her life which she has not told me." As they sat together a steward brought Mrs. Waldeaux a note, which she read, blushing and smiling. "The captain invites us to sit at his table," she said, when the man was gone.
"'He that will not work neither let him eat," he said grimly. It was about this time that Miss Vance came home. Mrs. Waldeaux in a moment of weakness gave her a hint of his defeat. "Is the world blind," she cried, "to deny work to a man of George's capacity? What does it mean?" Clara heard of George's sufferings with equanimity.
She went on blindly toward the water, and stood there a long time. Then, in the strait of her agony, there came to Frances Waldeaux, for the first time in her life, a perception that there was help for her in the world, outside of her own strength. Her poor tortured wits discerned One, more real than her crime, or George, or the woman that she had killed.
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