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The Falkners were perpetually changing their two servants, or were getting on without them. "Mrs. Lane's maids all wear caps," Mrs. Falkner had observed frequently to her husband. Bessie had strict ideas of how a house should be run, ideas derived from the best houses that she was familiar with.
But Tom Darnell was so interesting, his wife urged, and she was presentable. And the Falkners? There was no special reason for having them, but Isabelle thought it might be a good thing for Rob to meet some influential people, and Bessie would surely amuse the men. Isabelle's executive energy was thoroughly aroused. The flowers and the wines were ordered from St.
"What a silly world, talk and flutter and gadding, all about nothing!" Isabelle did not see much of the Falkners as time went on. Little lines of social divergence began to separate them more and more widely. "After all, one sees chiefly the people who do the same things one does," Isabelle explained to herself.
But the novelist, even he who has the courage to write a dull book, can touch but here and there, on the little promontories of daily life, where it seems to him the spiritual lava boils up near the surface and betrays most poignantly the nature of the fire beneath.... It was a little over three years since the Falkners had moved into the Buena Vista Pleasance house.
How is Bessie?" "Very well, I believe. She is in Denver, you know." When he had gone back to the boy, Isabelle said to Conny: "We used to know the Falkners very well. There is a story! ... Strange he should be here. But I heard he was in the East somewhere." Conny did not seem interested in Rob Falkner and his turning up at this juncture.
It was a gusty March day when the Falkners went out with the architect to consider the lot, and spent an afternoon trying to decide how to secure the most sun. Falkner, weary of the whole matter, listened to the glib young architect. Another windy day in April they returned to the lot to look at the excavation. The contracts were not yet signed.
Just what was meant by "natural" was not clear to Isabelle, but the word accorded with the general belief of her class that the best way to help in the world was to help one's self, to become useful to others by becoming important in the community, a comfortable philosophy. But there was one definite thing that they might accomplish, and that was to help the Falkners into easier circumstances.
Torso, she had felt at that time, was cramping, full of commonplace, ordinary people that one did not care to know. She had been very anxious to escape to something larger, to St. Louis and then to New York. She wondered what she would think of it now if she should go back, of Mrs. Fraser and the Griscoms. Then she remembered the Falkners, and how badly it had gone since with Bessie.
Instead of giving mutually, they stole mutually, and the end of that sort of life must be concubinage or the divorce court or a spiritual readjustment beyond the horizon of either Falkner or his wife. "Did you know that the Falkners were going to give up their house?" Lane asked his wife. "No, indeed.
Perhaps he could do something for the Falkners also. The thought took her out of herself for a little while. Men were free to work out their destiny in life, to go hither and thither, to alter fate. But a woman had to bear children. John was growing all this time, and she was separated from him.
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