Besides Osborne and Balderstone and Miss Andrewsof whom I shall at this time not speak at length, since the balance of this little narrative is to be devoted to the setting forth of her peculiarities and charmsthere were a number of minor characters, not so necessary to the story perhaps as they might have been, but interesting enough in their way, and very well calculated to provide the material needed for the filling out of the required number of pages. Furthermore, they completed the picture.
I dont want to put in three vivid figures, and leave the reader to imagine that the rest of the world has been wiped out of existence, said Harley, as he talked it over with me. That is not art. There should be three types of character in every bookthe positive, the average, and the negative. In that way you grade your story off into the rest of the world, and your reader feels that while he may never have met the positive characters, he has met the average or the negative, or both, and is therefore by one of these links connected with the others, and that gives him a personal interest in the story; and its the readers personal interest that the writer is after.
So Miss Andrews was provided with a very conventional auntthe kind of woman you meet with everywhere; most frequently in church squabbles and hotel parlors, however. Mrs. Corwin was this ladys name, and she was to enact the rôle of chaperon to Miss Andrews. With Mrs. Corwin, by force of circumstances, came a pair of twin children, like those in the Heavenly Twins, only more real, and not so Sarah Grandiose in their manners and wit.
These persons Harley booked for the steamship New York, sailing from New York City for Southampton on the third day of July, 1895. The action was to open at that time, and Marguerite Andrews was to meet Horace Balderstone on that vessel on the evening of the second day out, with which incident the interest of Harleys story was to begin. But Harley had counted without his heroine. The rest of his cast were safely stowed away on ship-board and ready for action at the appointed hour, but the heroine missed the steamer by three minutes, and it was all Harleys own fault.
II
A PRELIMINARY TRIAL
Ill not be made a soft and dull-eyed fool
To shake the head, relent, and sigh, and yield.
The extraordinary failure of Miss Andrews, cast for a star rôle in Stuart Harleys tale of Love and Villany, to appear upon the stage selected by the author for her débût, must be explained. As I have already stated at the close of the preceding chapter, it was entirely Harleys own fault. He had studied Miss Andrews too superficially to grasp thoroughly the more refined subtleties of her nature, and he found out, at a moment when it was too late to correct his error, that she was not a woman to be slighted in respect to the conventionalities of polite life, however trifling to a man of Harleys stamp these might seem to be. She was a stickler for form; and when she was summoned to go on board of an ocean steamship there to take part in a romance for the mere aggrandizement of a young author, she intended that he should not ignore the proprieties, even if in a sense the proprieties to which she referred did antedate the period at which his story was to open. She was willing to appear, but it seemed to her that Stuart Harley ought to see to it that she was escorted to the scene of action with the ceremony due to one of her position.
What does he take me for? she asked of Mrs. Corwin, indignantly, on the eve of her departure. Am I a mere marionette, to obey his slightest behest, and at a moments notice? Am I to dance when Stuart Harley pulls the string?
Not at all, my dear Marguerite, said Mrs. Corwin, soothingly. If he thought that, he would not have selected you for his story. I think you ought to feel highly complimented that Mr. Harley should choose you for one of his books, and for such a conspicuous part, too. Look at me; do I complain? Am I holding out for the proprieties? And yet what is my situation? Im simply dragged in by the hair; and my poor children, instead of having a nice, noisy Fourth of July at the sea-shore, must needs be put upon a great floating caravansary, to suffer seasickness and the other discomforts of ocean travel, so as to introduce a little juvenile fun into this great work of Mr. Harleysand yet I bow my head meekly and go. Why? Because I feel that, inconspicuous though I shall be, nevertheless I am highly honored that Mr. Harley should select me from among many for the uses of his gifted pen.
You are prepared, then, retorted Marguerite, to place yourself unreservedly in Mr. Harleys hands? Shall you flirt with the captain if he thinks your doing so will add to the humorous or dramatic interest of his story? Will you permit your children to make impertinent remarks to every one aboard ship; to pick up sailors slang and use it at the dining-tablein short, to make themselves obnoxiously clever at all times, in order that Mr. Harleys critics may say that his book fairly scintillates with wit, and gives gratifying evidence that the rising young author has made a deep and careful analysis of the juvenile heart?
Mr. Harley is too much of a gentleman, Marguerite, to place me and my children in a false or ridiculous light, returned Mrs. Corwin, severely. And even if he were not a gentleman, he is too true a realist to make me do anything which in the nature of things I should not dowhich disposes of your entirely uncalled-for remark about the captain and myself. As for the children, Tommie would not repeat sailors lingo at the table under any circumstances, and Jennie will not make herself obnoxiously clever at any time, because she has been brought up too carefully to fail to respect her elders. Both she and Tommie understand themselves thoroughly; and when Mr. Harley understands them, which he cannot fail to do after a short acquaintance, he will draw them as they are; and if previous to his complete understanding of their peculiarities he introduces into his story something foreign to their natures and obnoxious to me, their mother, I have no doubt he will correct his error when he comes to read the proofs of his story and sees his mistake.
You have great confidence in Stuart Harley, retorted Miss Andrews, gazing out of the window with a pensive cast of countenance.
Havent you? asked Mrs. Corwin, quickly.
As a man, yes, returned Marguerite. As an author, however, I think he is open to criticism. He is not always true to the real. Look at Lord Barncastle, in his study of English manners! Barncastle, as he drew him, was nothing but a New York society man with a title, living in England. That is to say, he talked like an American, thought like onethere was no point of difference between them.
And why should there be? asked Mrs. Corwin. If a New York society man is generally a weak imitation of an English peerand no one has ever denied that such is the casewhy shouldnt an English peer be represented as a sort of intensified New York society man?
Besides, said Miss Andrews, ignoring Mrs. Corwins point, I dont care to be presented too really to the reading public, especially on board a ship. I never yet knew a woman who looked well the second day out, and if I were to be presented as I always am the second day out, I should die of mortification. My hair goes out of curl, my face is the color of an unripe peach, and if I do go up on deck it is because I am so thoroughly miserable that I do not care who sees me or what the world thinks of me. I think it is very inconsiderate of Mr. Harley to open his story on an ocean steamer; and, what is more, I dont like the American line. Too many Americans of the brass-band type travel on it. Stuart Harley said so himself in his last book of foreign travel; but he sends me out on it just the same, and expects me to be satisfied. Perhaps he thinks I like that sort of American. If he does, hes got more imagination than he ever showed in his books.
Besides, said Miss Andrews, ignoring Mrs. Corwins point, I dont care to be presented too really to the reading public, especially on board a ship. I never yet knew a woman who looked well the second day out, and if I were to be presented as I always am the second day out, I should die of mortification. My hair goes out of curl, my face is the color of an unripe peach, and if I do go up on deck it is because I am so thoroughly miserable that I do not care who sees me or what the world thinks of me. I think it is very inconsiderate of Mr. Harley to open his story on an ocean steamer; and, what is more, I dont like the American line. Too many Americans of the brass-band type travel on it. Stuart Harley said so himself in his last book of foreign travel; but he sends me out on it just the same, and expects me to be satisfied. Perhaps he thinks I like that sort of American. If he does, hes got more imagination than he ever showed in his books.
You must get to the other side in some way, said Mrs. Corwin. It is at Venice that the trouble with Balderstone is to come, and that Osborne topples him over into the Grand Canal, and rescues you from his baleful influence.
Humph! said Marguerite, with a scornful shrug of her shoulders. Robert Osborne! A likely sort of person to rescue me from anything! He wouldnt have nerve enough to rescue me from a grasshopper if he were armed to the teeth. Furthermore, I shall not go to Venice in August. Its bad enough in Aprildamp and hotthe home of malariaan asylum for artistic temperaments; and insecty. No, my dear aunt, even if I overlook everything else to please Mr. Harley, hell have to modify the Venetian part of that story, for I am determined that no pen of his shall force me into Italy at this season. I wouldnt go there to please Shakespeare, much less Stuart Harley. Let the affair come off at Interlaken, if it is to come off at all, which I doubt.
There is no Grand Canal at Interlaken, said Mrs. Corwin, sagely; for she had been an omnivorous reader of Baedeker since she had learned the part she was to play in Harleys book, and was therefore well up in geography.
No; but theres the Jungfrau. Osborne can push Balderstone down the side of an Alp and kill him, returned Miss Andrews, viciously.
Why, Marguerite! How can you talk so? Mr. Harley doesnt wish to have Balderstone killed, cried Mrs. Corwin, aghast. If Osborne killed Balderstone hed be a murderer, and theyd execute him.
Which is exactly what I want, said Miss Andrews, firmly. If he lives, it pleases the omnipotent Mr. Harley that I shall marry him, and I positivelyWell, just you wait and see.
There was silence for some minutes.
Then I suppose you will decline to go abroad altogether? asked Mrs. Corwin after a while; and Mr. Harley will be forced to get some one else; and II shall be deprived of a pleasant tourbecause Im only to be one of the party because Im your aunt.
Mrs. Corwins lip quivered a little as she spoke. She had anticipated much pleasure from her trip.
No, I shall not decline to go, Miss Andrews replied. I expect to go, but it is entirely on your account. I must say, however, that Stuart Harley will find out, to his sorrow, that I am not a doll, to be worked with a string. I shall give him a scare at the outset which will show him that I know the rights of a heroine, and that he must respect them. For instance, he cannot ignore my comfort. Do you suppose that because his story is to open with my beautiful self on board that ship, Im to be there without his making any effort to get me there? Not I! You and the children and Osborne and Balderstone may go down any way you please. You may go on the elevated railroad or on foot. You may go on the horse-cars, or you may go on the luggage-van. It is immaterial to me what you do; but when it comes to myself, Stuart Harley must provide a carriage, or I miss the boat. I dont wish to involve you in this. You want to go, and are willing to go in his way, which simply means turning up at the right moment, with no trouble to him. From your point of view it is all right. You are anxious to go abroad, and are grateful to Mr. Harley for letting you go. For me, however, he must do differently. I have no particular desire to leave America, and if I go at all it is as a favor to him, and he must act accordingly. It is a case of carriage or no heroine. If Im left behind, you and the rest can go along without me. I shall do very well, and it will be Mr. Harleys own fault. It may hurt his story somewhat, but that is no concern of mine.
I suppose the reason why he doesnt send a carriage is that that part of your life doesnt appear in his story, explained Mrs. Corwin.
That doesnt affect the point that he ought to send one, said Marguerite. He neednt write up the episode of the ride to the pier unless he wants to, but the fact remains that its his duty to see me safely on board from my home, and that he shall do, or I fail him at the moment he needs me. If he is selfish enough to overlook the matter, he must suffer the consequences.
All of which, I think, was very reasonable. No heroine likes to feel that she is called into being merely to provide copy for the person who is narrating her story; and to be impressed with the idea that the moment she is off the stage she must shift entirely for herself is too humiliating to be compatible with true heroism.
Now it so happened that in his meditations upon that opening chapter the scene of which was to be placed on board of the New York, Stuart realized that his story of Miss Andrewss character had indeed been too superficial. He found that out at the moment he sat down to describe her arrival at the pier, as it would be in all likelihood. What would she say the moment shethe moment she what?the moment she emerged from the perilous stream of vehicles which crowd West Street from morning until night, or the moment she stepped out of the cab as it drew up at the foot of the gangway? That was the point. How would she arriveon foot or in a cab? Which way would she come, and at what time must she start from home? Should she come alone, or should Mrs. Corwin and the twins come with her?or would a woman of her stamp not be likely to have an intimate friend to accompany her to the steamer? Stuart was a rapid thinker, and as he pondered over these problems it did not take him long to reach the conclusion that a cab was necessary for Miss Andrews; and that Mrs. Corwin and the twins, with Osborne and Balderstone, might get aboard in their own way. He also decided that it would be an excellent plan to have Marguerites old school friend Mrs. Willard accompany her to the steamer. By an equally rapid bit of thought he concluded that if the cab started from the Andrews apartment at Fifty-ninth Street and Central Park at 9.30 A.M., the trip to the pier could easily be made in an hour, which would be in ample time, since the sailing hour of the New York was eleven. Unfortunately Harley, in his hurry, forgot two or three incidents of departures generally, especially departures of women, which he should not have overlooked. It was careless of him to forget that a woman about to travel abroad wants to make herself as stunning as she possibly can on the day of departure, so that the impression she will make at the start shall be strong enough to carry her through the dowdy stage which comes, as Marguerite had intimated, on the second and third days at sea; and to expect a woman like Marguerite Andrews, who really had no responsibilities to call her up at an early hour, to be ready at 9.30 sharp, was a fatal error, unless he provided his cab with an unusually fast horse, or a pair of horses, both of which Harley neglected to do. Miss Andrews was twenty minutes late at starting the first time, and just a half-hour behind schedule time when, having rushed back to her rooms for her gloves, which in the excitement of the moment she had forgotten, she started finally for the ship. Even then all would have been well had the unfortunate author not overlooked one other vital point. Instead of sending the cab straight down Fifth Avenue, to Broadway, to Barclay Street, he sent it down Sixth, and thence through Greenwich Village, emerging at West Street at its junction with Christopher, and then the inevitable happened.