THAT same afternoon Donald Keith, arrived at the top of Mrs.Belloc's steps, met Mildred coming out.
Seeing their greeting, one would have thought they had seen each other but a few minutes before or were casual acquaintances.Said she:
``I'm going for a walk.''
``Let's take the taxi,'' said he.
There it stood invitingly at the curb.She felt tired.
She disliked walking.She wished to sit beside him and be whirled away--out of the noisy part of the city, up where the air was clean and where there were no crowds.
But she had begun the regimen of Lucia Rivi.She hesitated.What matter if she began now or put off beginning until after this one last drive?
``No, we will walk,'' said she.
``But the streets are in frightful condition.''
She thrust out a foot covered with a new and shiny storm-rubber.
``Let's drive to the park then.We'll walk there.''
``No.If I get into the taxi, I'll not get out.Send it away.''
When they were moving afoot up Madison Avenue, he said: ``What's the matter? This isn't like you.''
``I've come to my senses,'' replied she.``It may be too late, but I'm going to see.''
``When I called on Mrs.Brindley the other day,''
said he, ``she had your note, saying that you were going into musical comedy with Crossley.''
``That's over,'' said she.``I lost my voice, and Ilost my job.''
``So I heard,'' said he.``I know Crossley.Idropped in to see him this morning, and he told me about a foolish, fashionable girl who made a bluff at going on the stage--he said she had a good voice and was a swell looker, but proved to be a regular `four-flusher.' I recognized you.''
``Thanks,'' said she dryly.
``So, I came to see you.''
She inquired about Mrs.Brindley and then about Stanley Baird.Finding that he was in Italy, she inquired: ``Do you happen to know his address?''
``I'll get it and send it to you.He has taken a house at Monte Carlo for the winter.''
``And you?''
``I shall stay here--I think.''
``You may join him?''
``It depends''--he looked at her--``upon you.''
He could put a wonderful amount of meaning into a slight inflection.She struggled--not in vain--to keep from changing expression.
``You realize now that the career is quite hopeless?''
said he.
She did not answer.
``You do not like the stage life?''
``No.''
``And the stage life does not like you?''
``No.''
``Your voice lacks both strength and stability?''
``Yes.''
``And you have found the one way by which you could get on--and you don't like it?''
``Crossley told you?'' said she, the color flaring.
``Your name was not mentioned.You may not believe it, but Crossley is a gentleman.''
She walked on in silence.
``I did not expect your failure to come so soon--or in quite that way,'' he went on.``I got Mrs.Brindley to exact a promise from you that you'd let her know about yourself.I called on Mrs.Belloc one day when you were out, and gave her my confidence and got hers --and assured myself that you were in good hands.
Crossley's tale gave me--a shock.I came at once.''
``Then you didn't abandon me to my fate, as Ithought?''
He smiled in his strange way.``I?--when I loved you? Hardly.''
``Then you did interest yourself in me because you cared--precisely as I said,'' laughed she.
``And I should have given you up if you had succeeded--precisely as I said,'' replied he.
``You wished me to fail?''
``I wished you to fail.I did everything I could to help you to succeed.I even left you absolutely alone, set you in the right way--the only way in which anyone can win success.''
``Yes, you made me throw away the crutches and try to walk.''
``It was hard to do that.Those strains are very wearing at my time of life.''
``You never were any younger, and you'll never be any older,'' laughed she.``That's your charm--one of them.''
``Mildred, do you still care?''
``How did you know?'' inquired she mockingly.
``You didn't try to conceal it.I'd not have ventured to say and do the things I said and did if I hadn't felt that we cared for each other.But, so long as you were leading that fatuous life and dreaming those foolish dreams, I knew we could never be happy.''
``That is true--oh, SO true,'' replied she.
``But now--you have tried, and that has made a woman of you.And you have failed, and that has made you ready to be a wife--to be happy in the quiet, private ways.''
She was silent.
``I can make enough for us both--as much as we will need or want--as much as you please, if you aren't too extravagant.And I can do it easily.It's making little sums--a small income--that's hard in this ridiculous world.Let's marry, go to California or Europe for several months, then come back here and live like human beings.''
She was silent.Block after block they walked along, as if neither had anything especial in mind, anything worth the trouble of speech.Finally he said:
``Well?''
``I can't answer--yet,'' said she.``Not to-day--not till I've thought.''
She glanced quickly at him.Over his impassive face, so beautifully regular and, to her, so fascinating, there passed a quick dark shadow, and she knew that he was suffering.He laughed quietly, his old careless, indifferent laugh.
``Oh, yes, you can answer,'' said he.``You have answered.''
She drew in her breath sharply.
``You have refused.''
``Why do you say that, Donald?'' she pleaded.
``To hesitate over a proposal is to refuse,'' said he with gentle raillery.``A man is a fool who does not understand and sheer off when a woman asks for time.''
``You know that I love you,'' she cried.
``I also know that you love something else more.
But it's finished.Let's talk about something else.''
``Won't you let me tell you why I hesitate?'' begged she.
``It doesn't matter.''
``But it does.Yes, I do refuse, Donald.I'll never marry you until I am independent.You said a while ago that what I've been through had made a woman of me.Not yet.I'm only beginning.I'm still weak--still a coward.Donald, I must and will be free.''
