Of course, Maida assented, but her lip trembled and her eyes showed signs of ready tears.
Cheer up, Genevieve babbled on. Im your friend whatever comes with time!
So am I, put in Curtis Keefe. Good-bye for a few days, Miss Wheeler.
How Maida did it, she scarcely knew herself, but she forced a smile, and even when Samuel Appleby gave her a warning glance at parting she bravely responded to his farewell words, and even gaily waved her hand as the car rolled down the drive.
Once out of earshot, Appleby broke out:
I played my trump card! No, you neednt ask me what I was, for I dont propose to tell you. But it will take the trick, Im sure. Why, its got to!
It must be something pretty forcible, then, said Keefe, for it looked to me about as likely as snow in summertime, that any of those rigid Puritans would ever give in an inch to your persuasions.
Or mine, added Genevieve. Never before have I failed so utterly to make any headway when I set out to be really persuasive.
You did your best, Miss Lane, and Appleby looked at her with the air of one appraising the efficiency of a salesman. I confess I didnt think Wheeler would be quite such a hardshell after all these years.
Hes just like concrete, Keefe observed. They all are. I didnt know there were such conscientious people left in this wicked old world!
Theyre not really in the world, Appleby declared. Theyve merely vegetated in that house of theirs, never going anywhere
Oh, come now, Mr. Appleby, and Genevieve shook her head, Boston isnt the only burg on the planet! They often go to New York, and thats going some!
Not really often I asked Wheeler. He hasnt been for five or six years, and though Maida goes occasionally, to visit friends, she soon runs back home to her father.
It doesnt matter, Keefe said, theyre by no means mossbacks or hayseeds. Theyre right there with the goods, when it comes to modern literature or up-to-date news
Oh, yes, theyre a highbrow bunch, Appleby spoke impatiently; but a recluse like that is no sort of a man! The truth is, Im at the end of my patience! Ive got to put this thing over with less palaver and circumlocution. I thought Id give him a chance just put the thing up to him squarely once and, as he doesnt see fit to meet me half-way, hes got to be the loser, thats all.
He seems to be the loser, as it is. This from Keefe.
But nothing to whats coming to him! Why, the idea of my sparing him at all is ridiculous! If he doesnt come down, hes got to be wiped out! Thats what it amounts to!
Wiped out how?
Figuratively and literally! Mentally, morally and physically! Thats how! Ive stood all I can Ive waited long enough too long and now Im going to play the game my own way! As I said, I played a trump card I raised one pretty definite ruction just before we left. Now, that may do the business and, it may not! If not, then desperate measures are necessary and will be used!
Good gracious, Mr. Appleby! Genevieve piped up from her fur collar which nearly muffled her little face. You sound positively murderous!
Murder! Pooh, Id kill Dan Wheeler in a minute, if that would help Sam! But I dont want Wheeler dead I want him alive I want his help his influence yet, when he sits there looking like a stone wall, and about as easy to overthrow, I declare I could kill him! But I dont intend to. Its far more likely hed kill me!
Why? exclaimed Keefe. Why should he? And but youre joking.
Not at all. Wheeler isnt of the murderer type, or Id be taking my life in my hands to go into his house! He hates me with all the strength of a hard, bigoted, but strictly just nature. He thinks I was unjust in the matter of his pardon, he thinks I was contemptible, and false to our old-time friendship; and he would be honestly and truly glad if I were dead. But thank heaven hes no murderer!
Of course not! cried Genevieve. How you do talk! As if murder were an everyday performance! Why, people in our class dont kill each other!
The placid assumption of equality of class with her employer was so consistently Miss Lanes usual attitude, that it caused no mental comment from either of her hearers. Her services were so valuable that any such little idiosyncrasy was tolerated.
Of course we dont often, agreed Appleby, but Id wager a good bit that if Dan Wheeler could bump me off without his conscience knowing it off Id go!
I dont know about that, said Genevieve, musingly but I do believe that girl would do it!
What? cried Keefe. Maida!
Yes; shes a lamb for looks, but shes got a lions heart if anybody ever had one! Talk about a tigress protecting her cubs; it would be a milk-and-water performance beside Maida Wheeler shielding her father or fighting for him yes, or killing somebody for him!
Rubbish! laughed Appleby. Maida might be willing enough, in that lion heart of hers but little girls dont go around killing people.
I know it, and I dont expect her to. But I only say shes capable of it.
Goethe says (Keefe spoke in his superior way) We are all capable of crime, even the best of us.
I remember that phrase, mused Appleby. Is it Goethes? Well, I dont say its literally true, for lots of people are too much of a jellyfish makeup to have such a capability. But I do believe there are lots of strong, forcible people, who are absolutely capable of crime if the opportunity offers.
Thats it, and Genevieve nodded her head wisely. Opportunity is what counts. Ive read detective stories, and they prove it. Be careful, Mr. Appleby, how you trust yourself alone with Mr. Wheeler.
That will do, he reprimanded. I can take care of myself, Miss Lane.
Genevieve always knew when she had gone too far, and, instead of sulking, she tactfully changed the subject and entertained the others with her amusing chatter, at which she was a success.
At that very moment, Maida Wheeler, alone in her room, was sobbing wildly, yet using every precaution that she shouldnt be heard.
Thrown across her bed, her face buried in the pillows, she fairly shook with the intensity of her grief.
But, as often happens, after she had brought her crying spell to a finish and exhausted Nature insists on a finish she rose and bathed her flushed face and sat down to think it out calmly.
Yet the more she thought the less calm she grew.
For the first time in her life she was face to face with a great question which she could not refer to her parents. Always she had confided in them, and matters that seemed great to her, even though trifling in themselves, were invariably settled and straightened out by her wise and loving father or mother.
But now, Samuel Appleby had told her a secret a dreadful secret that she must not only weigh and decide about, but must at least, until she decided keep from her parents.
For, Maida thought, if I tell them, theyll at once insist on knowing who the rightful heir is, theyll give over the place to him and what will become of us?
Her conscience was as active as ever it was, her sense of right and wrong was in no way warped or blunted, but instinct told her that she must keep this matter entirely to herself until she had come to her own conclusion. Moreover, she realized, the conclusion must be her own the decision must be arrived at by herself, and unaided.
Finally, accepting all this, she resolved to put the whole thing out of her mind for the moment. Her parents were so intimately acquainted with her every mood or shade of demeanor, they would see at once that something was troubling her mind, unless she used the utmost care to prevent it. Care, too, not to overdo her precaution. It would be quite as evident that she was concealing something, if she were unusually gay or carefree of manner.
So the poor child went downstairs, determined to forget utterly the news she had heard, until such time as she could be again by herself.
And she succeeded. Though haunted by a vague sense of being deceitful, she behaved so entirely as usual, that neither of her parents suspected her of pretense.
Moreover, the subject of Samuel Applebys visit was such a fruitful source of conversation that there was less chance of minor considerations.
Never will I consent, her father was reiterating, as Maida entered the room. Why, Sara, Id rather have the conditional pardon rescinded, rather pay full penalty of my conviction, than stand for the things young Sams campaign must stand for!
A clenched fist came down on the table by way of emphasis.
Now, dad, said Maida, gaily, dont thump around like that! You look as if youd like to thump Mr. Appleby!
And I should! I wish I could bang into his head just how I feel about it
Oh, he knows! and Mrs. Wheeler smiled. He knows perfectly how you feel.
But, truly, mother, dont you think dad could well, not do anything wrong but just give in to Mr. Appleby for for my sake?
Maida dear that is our only stumbling-block. Your father and I would not budge one step, for ourselves but for you, and for Jeffrey oh, my dear little girl, thats what makes it so hard.
For us, then father, cant you for our sake
Maida broke down. It wasnt for her sake she was pleading nor for the sake of her lover. It was for the sake of her parents that they might remain in comfort and yet, comfort at the expense of honesty? Oh, the problem was too great she hadnt worked it out yet.
I cant think, her fathers grave voice broke in on her tumultuous thoughts. I cant believe, Maida, that you would want my freedom at the cost of my seared conscience.
No, oh, no, father, I dont you know I dont. But what is this dreadful thing youd have to countenance if you linked up on the Appleby side? Are they pirates or rascals?
Not from their own point of view, and Dan Wheeler smiled. They think we are! You cant understand politics, child, but you must know that a man who is heart and soul in sympathy with the principles of his party cant conscientiously cross over and work for the other side.
Yes, I know that, and I know that tells the whole story. But, father, think what there is at stake. Your freedom and ours!
I know that, Maida dear, and you can never know how my very soul is torn as I try to persuade myself that for those reasons it would be right for me to consent. Yet
He passed his hand wearily across his brow, and then folding his arms on the table he let his head sink down upon them.
Maida flew to his side. Father, dearest, she crooned over him, as she caressed his bowed head, dont think of it for a minute! You know Id give up anything Id give up Jeff if it means one speck of good for you.
I know it, dear child, but run away, now, Maida, leave me to myself.
Understanding, both Maida and her mother quietly left the room.
Im sorry, girlie dear, that you have to be involved in these scenes, Mrs. Wheeler said fondly, as the two went to the sitting-room.
Dont talk that way, mother. Im part of the family, and Im old enough to have a share and a voice in all these matters. But just think what it would mean, if father had his pardon! Look at this room, and think, he has never been in it! Never has seen the pictures the view from the window, the general coziness of it all.
I know, dear, but thats an old story. Your father is accustomed to living only in his own rooms
And not to be able to go to the other end of the dining-room or living-room, if he chooses! Its outrageous!
Yes, Maida, I quite agree but no more outrageous than it was last week or last year.
Yes, it is! It grows more outrageous every minute! Mother, what did that old will say? That you must live in Massachusetts?
Yes you know that, dear.
Of course I do. And if you lived elsewhere, what then?
I forfeit the inheritance.
And what would become of it?
In default of any other heirs, it would go to the State of Massachusetts.
And there are no other heirs?
What ails you, Maida? You know all this. No, there are no other heirs.
Youre sure?
As sure as we can be. Your father had every possible search made. There were advertisements kept in the papers for years, and able lawyers did all they could to find heirs if there were any. And, finding none, we were advised that there were none, and we could rest in undisturbed possession.
Suppose one should appear, what then?
Then, little girl, wed give him the keys of the house, and walk out.
Where would we walk to?
Ive no idea. In fact, I cant imagine where we could walk to. But that, thank heaven, is not one of our troubles. Your father would indeed be desperately fixed if it were! You know, Maida, from a fine capable business man, he became a wreck, because of that unjust trial.
Father never committed the forgery?
Of course not, dear.
Who did?
We dont know. It was cleverly done, and the crime was purposely fastened on your father, because he was about to be made the rival candidate of Mr. Appleby, for governor.
I know. And Mr. Appleby was at the bottom of it!
Your father doesnt admit that
He must have been.
Hush, Maida. These matters are not for you to judge. You know your father has done all he honestly could to be fully pardoned, or to discover the real criminal, and as he hasnt succeeded, you must rest content with the knowledge that there was no stone left unturned.
But, mother, suppose Mr. Appleby has something more up his sleeve. Suppose he comes down on dad with some unexpected, some unforeseen blow that
Maida, be quiet. Dont make me sorry that we have let you into our confidence as far as we have. These are matters above your head. Should such a thing as you hint occur, your father can deal with it.
But I want to help
And you can best do that by not trying to help! Your part is to divert your father, to love him and cheer him and entertain him. You know this, and you know for you to undertake to advise or suggest is not only ridiculous but disastrous.
All right, mother, Ill be good. I dont mean to be silly.
You are, when you assume ability you dont possess. Mrs. Wheelers loving smile robbed the words of any harsh effect. Run along now, and see if dad wont go for a walk with you; and dont refer to anything unpleasant.
Maida went, and found Wheeler quite ready for a stroll
Which way? he asked as they crossed the south veranda.
Round the park, and bring up under the tree, and have tea there, dictated Maida, her heart already lighter as she obeyed her mothers dictum to avoid unpleasant subjects.