At the thought of a lover for V.V.a sudden flood of anger poured across the old man's mind, behind the still mask of his face.It infuriated him even to think of V.V., his little V.V., his own girl, entertaining a lover, being possibly--most shameful thought--IN LOVE! Like some ordinary silly female, sinking to kisses, to the deeds one could buy and pay for.His V.V.! The idea infuriated and disgusted him.He fought against it as a possibility.Once some woman in New York had ventured to hint something to him of some fellow, some affair with an artist, Caston; she had linked this Caston with V.V.'s red cross nursing in Europe....Old Grammont had made that woman sorry she spoke.Afterwards he had caused enquiries to be made about this Caston, careful enquiries.It seems that he and V.V.had known each other, there had been something.But nothing that V.V.need be ashamed of.When old Grammont's enquiry man had come back with his report, old Grammont had been very particular about that.At first the fellow had not been very clear, rather muddled indeed as to how things were--no doubt he had wanted to make out there was something just to seem to earn his money.Old Grammont had struck the table sharply and the eyes that looked out of his mask had blazed."What have you found out against her?" he had asked in a low even voice.
"Absolutely nothing, Sir," said the agent, suddenly white to the lips....
Old Grammont stared at his memory of that moment for a while.
That affair was all right, quite all right.Of course it was all right.And also, happily, Caston was among the dead.But it was well her broken engagement with Lake had been resumed as though it had never been broken off.If there had been any talk that fact answered it.And now that Lake had served his purpose old Grammont did not care in the least if he was shelved.V.V.could stand alone.
Old Grammont had got a phrase in his mind that looked like dominating the situation.He dreamt of saying to V.V.: "V.V., I'm going to make a man of you--if you're man enough." That was a large proposition; it implied--oh! it implied all sorts of things.It meant that she would care as little for philandering as an able young business man.Perhaps some day, a long time ahead, she might marry.There wasn't much reason for it, but it might be she would not wish to be called a spinster."Take a husband," thought old Grammont, "when I am gone, as one takes a butler, to make the household complete."In previous meditations on his daughter's outlook old Grammont had found much that was very suggestive in the precedent of Queen Victoria.She had had no husband of the lord and master type, so to speak, but only a Prince Consort, well in hand.Why shouldn't the Grammont heiress dominate her male belonging, if it came to that, in the same fashion? Why shouldn't one tie her up and tie the whole thing up, so far as any male belonging was concerned, leaving V.V.in all other respects free? How could one do it?
The speculative calm of the sunken brown eyes deepened.
His thoughts went back to the white face of the private enquiry agent."Absolutely nothing, Sir." What had the fellow thought of hinting? Nothing of that kind in V.V.'s composition, never fear.Yet it was a curious anomaly that while one had a thousand ways of defending one's daughter and one's property against that daughter's husband, there was no power on earth by which a father could stretch his dead hand between that daughter and the undue influence of a lover.
Unless you tied her up for good and all, lover or none....
One was left at the mercy of V.V.'s character....
"I ought to see more of her," he thought."She gets away from me.Just as her mother did." A man need not suspect his womenkind but he should know what they are doing.It is duty, his protective duty to them.These companions, these Seyffert women and so forth, were all very well in their way; there wasn't much they kept from you if you got them cornered and asked them intently.But a father's eye is better.He must go about with the girl for a time, watch her with other men, give her chances to talk business with him and see if she took them."V.V., I'm going to make a man of you," the phrase ran through his brain.The deep instinctive jealousy of the primordial father was still strong in old Grammont's blood.
It would be pleasant to go about with her on his right hand in Paris, HIS girl, straight and lovely, desirable and unapproachable,--above that sort of nonsense, above all other masculine subjugation.
"V.V., I'm going to make a man of you...."His mind grew calmer.Whatever she wanted in Paris should be hers.He'd just let her rip.They'd be like sweethearts together, he and his girl.
Old Grammont dozed off into dreamland.
Section 5
The imaginations of Mr.Gunter Lake, two days behind Mr.
Grammont upon the Atlantic, were of a gentler, more romantic character.In them V.V.was no longer a daughter in the fierce focus of a father's jealousy, but the goddess enshrined in a good man's heart.Indeed the figure that the limelight of the reverie fell upon was not V.V.at all but Mr.Gunter Lake himself, in his favourite role of the perfect lover.
An interminable speech unfolded itself."I ask for nothing in return.I've never worried you about that Caston business and I never will.Married to me you shall be as free as if you were unmarried.Don't I know, my dear girl, that you don't love me yet.Let that be as you wish.I want nothing you are not willing to give me, nothing at all.All I ask is the privilege of making life happy--and it shall be happy--for you....All I ask.All I ask.Protect, guard, cherish...."For to Mr.Gunter Lake it seemed there could be no lovelier thing in life than a wife "in name only" slowly warmed into a glow of passion by the steadfast devotion and the strength and wisdom of a mate at first despised.Until at last a day would come....
"My darling!" Mr.Gunter Lake whispered to the darkness."My little guurl.IT HAS BEEN WORTH THE WAITING...."Section 6
