The Conflict Part 47

"Why do you laugh?" said Charlton. "What is there absurd in a sensible marriage?"

"Would you marry a woman because she was a good housekeeper?"

"That would be one of the requirements," said Charlton. "I've sense enough to know that, no matter how much I liked a woman before marriage, it couldn't last long if she were incompetent. She'd irritate me every moment in the day. I'd lie awake of nights despising her.

And how she would hate me!"

"I can't imagine you a husband," laughed Jane.

"That doesn't speak well for your imagination," rejoined Charlton. "I have perfect health--which means that I have a perfect disposition, for only people with deranged interiors are sour and snappy and moody. And I am sympathetic and understanding. I appreciate that women are rottenly brought up and have everything to learn--everything that's worth while if one is to live comfortably and growingly. So, I shouldn't expect much at the outset beyond a desire to improve and a capacity to improve. Yes, I've about all the virtues for a model husband--a companionable, helpful mate for a woman who wants to be more of a person every day she lives."

"No, thanks," said Jane, mockingly. "The advertis.e.m.e.nt reads well, but I don't care to invest."

"Oh, I looked you over long ago," said Charlton with a coolness that both amused and exasperated her. "You wouldn't do at all. You are very attractive to look at and to talk with. Your money would be useful to some plans I've got for some big sanatoriums along the line of Schulze's up at Saint Christopher. But---" He shook his head, smiling at her through a cloud of cigarette smoke.

"Go on," urged Jane. "What's wrong with me?"

"You've been miseducated too far and too deeply. You KNOW too much that isn't so. You've got the upper cla.s.s American woman habit of thinking about yourself all the time. You are an indifferent housekeeper, and you think you are good at it. You don't know the practical side of life--cooking, sewing, house furnis.h.i.+ng, marketing.

You're ambitious for a show career--the sort Davy Hull--excuse me, Governor David Hull--is making so noisily. There's just the man for you. You ought to marry. Marry Hull."

Jane was furiously angry. She did not dare show it; Charlton would merely laugh and walk away, and perhaps refuse to be friends with her.

It exasperated her to the core, the narrow limitations of the power of money. She could, through the power of her money, do exactly as she pleased to and with everybody except the only kind of people she cared about dominating; these she was apparently the less potent with because of her money. It seemed to put them on their mettle and on their guard.

She swallowed her anger. "Yes, I've got to get married," said she.

"And I don't know what to do about it."

"Hull," said Charlton.

"Is that the best advice you can give?" said she disdainfully.

"He needs you, and you need him. You like him--don't you?"

"Very much."

"Then--the thing's done. Davy isn't the man to fail to seize an opportunity so obviously to his advantage. Not that he hasn't a heart.

He has a big one--does all sorts of gracious, patronizing, kind things--does no end of harm. But he'd no more let his emotions rule his life than--than--Victor Dorn--or I, for that matter."

Jane colored; a pathetic sadness tinged the far-away expression of her eyes.

"No doubt he's half in love with you already. Most men are who know you. A kindly smile and he'll be kneeling."

"I don't want David Hull," cried Jane. "Ever since I can remember they've been at me to marry him. He bores me. He doesn't make me respect him. He never could control me--or teach me--or make me look up to him in any way. I don't want him, and I won't have him."

"I'm afraid you've got to do it," said Charlton. "You act as if you realized it and were struggling and screaming against manifest destiny like a child against a determined mother."

Jane's eyes had a look of terror. "You are joking," said she. "But it frightens me, just the same."

"I am not joking," replied he. "I can hear the wedding bells--and so can you."

"Don't!" pleaded Jane. "I've so much confidence in your insight that I can't bear to hear you saying such things even to tease me.... Why haven't you told me about these sanatoriums you want?"

"Because I've been hoping I could devise some way of getting them without the use of money. Did it ever occur to you that almost nothing that's been of real and permanent value to the world was built with money? The things that money has done have always been badly done."

"Let me help you," said Jane earnestly. "Give me something to do.

Teach me how to do something. I am SO bored!--and so eager to have an occupation. I simply can't lead the life of my cla.s.s.

"You want to be a lady patroness--a lady philanthropist," said Charlton, not greatly impressed by her despair. "That's only another form of the life of your cla.s.s--and a most offensive form."

"Your own terms--your own terms, absolutely," cried Jane in desperation.

"No--marry Hull and go into upper and middle cla.s.s politics. You'll be a lady senator or a lady amba.s.sador or cabinet officer, at least."

"I will not marry David Hull--or anybody, just yet," cried Jane. "Why should I? I've still got ten years where there's a chance of my being able to attract some man who--attracts me. And after that I can buy as good a husband as any that offers now. Doctor Charlton, I'm in desperate, deadly earnest. And I ask you to help me."

"My own terms?"

"I give you my word."

"You'll have to give your money outright. No strings attached. No chance to be a philanthropist. Also, you'll have to work--have to educate yourself as I instruct you."

"Yes--yes. Whatever you say."

Charlton looked at her dubiously. "I'm a fool to have anything to do with this," he said. "You aren't in any way a suitable person--any more than I'm the sort of man you want to a.s.sist you in your schemes.

You don't realize what tests you're to be put through."

"I don't care," said Jane.

"It's a chance to try my theory," mused he. "You know, I insist we are all absolutely the creatures of circ.u.mstance--that character adapts itself to circ.u.mstance--that to change a man or a town or a nation--or a world--you have only to change their fundamental circ.u.mstances."

"You'll try me?"

"I'll think about it," said Charlton. "I'll talk with Victor Dorn about it."

"Whatever you do, don't talk to him," cried Jane, in terror. "He has no faith in me--" She checked herself, hastily added--"in anybody outside his own cla.s.s."

"I never do anything serious without consulting Victor," said Charlton firmly. "He's got the best mind of any one I know, and it is foolish to act without taking counsel of the best."

"He'll advise against it," said Jane bitterly.

"But I may not take his advice literally," said Charlton. "I'm not in mental slavery to him. I often adapt his advice to my needs instead of adopting it outright."

And with that she had to be content.

She pa.s.sed a day and night of restlessness, and called him on the telephone early the following morning. As she heard his voice she said:

"Did you see Victor Dorn last night?"

"Where are you?" asked Charlton.