The Stoic

he sought to be alone as much as possible, he pointed out the circles and lines of stone, possibly of Druidic or other early religious origin, which at certain spots lent a mysterious and plainly prehistoric atmosphere to his property. Also he talked to her of the copper and tin mines of pre-Roman days, and the great fishing fleets plying out of Mounts Bay, St. Ives, and Penzance; and of the aged and primitive folk of some of the inland villages, some of whom, on his own estate, spoke a now almost forgotten language. In Mounts Bay lay his yacht, roomy enough, as she discovered, for the entertainment of a dozen guests. And from the topmost mount of Tregasal plateau could be seen both the English and St. George’s channels.

Berenice noted, in due course, that Stane was proud of this strange country, almost as much so as of his possessions in it. Here he felt himself the lord that he was, recognized and respected by all. She wondered if presently a sobering process would not set in, which would bring him back to this region permanently. For her, however, it was not so enticing. A little too bleak and primitive, although she admired it as a spectacle. Tregasal Hall, long and gray and somber, was only saved in her esteem by its highly decorative interior. There were bright curtains and rugs, old French furniture, French and English paintings, and modern lighting and plumbing. Also she was impressed and even a little overawed by the library, collected by previous earls over a period of a hundred and fifty years and constituting an imposing bibliophilic treasure.

Throughout this visit, which included a day of yachting and one of bathing and picnicking under the cliffs, Berenice was still further impressed by a certain rugged simplicity which contrasted oddly with Stane’s love of comfort and material perfection. He was strong, as he demonstrated by chinning himself more than half a dozen times on the limb of a tree. Also an excellent swimmer. He ventured far into the waves and breakers which Berenice could only contemplate with doubt and wonder. He questioned her constantly as to her reactions in regard to all that pleased him, and enthusiastically welcomed every suggestion of concordance, and was forever busying himself throughout her visit with suggestions of things they might possibly do at some future time.

Yet charming as he was, and interesting at this time as a foil to Cowperwood and his unfaithfulness, still, as she decided, and after not a little meditation, he lacked the blazing force of Cowperwood. There was not about him that nimbus of great affairs and powers. He was more the quiet aspirant for position without the fascinating fanfare and uproar that seemed ever to accompany the great in the rush and flare of creation. And in this sense it was that Berenice was still, and always would be, dominated by Cowperwood. Although he was absent and interested in another woman, and his personality dimmed by distance, still he filled her thoughts even at the very time that she found herself moved by the charm of the less strident and more soothing personality of Stane. For was it not possible that after all she might have to forego the fascination of Cowperwood and devote herself to the matter of bringing about an ultimate social rectification for herself by capturing Stane, or someone like him? She could not deny her desire for at least some measure of security. She meditated on what Aileen might do to her once she found out she was in England, and with Cowperwood. Perhaps she did know. She was almost certain that Aileen had sent the Town Topics article. And her mother’s past life, how could that ever be hushed up? And yet, there was no doubt of Stane’s affection for her. Perhaps if certain matters could be covered up, he would marry her. Perhaps, even if he knew all, he might still seek to aid her in concealing what was most inimical to their mutual happiness.

Riding back with him early one morning toward Tregasal, after a gallop over his bleak acres, she wondered how stoutly based and centered in the customs of his class he really was, how much he might be brought to sacrifice to retain one for whom he really cared.

Chapter 48

London. The usual fanfare because of Mr. and Mrs. Cowperwood having returned. Berenice, because of previous cables, fully aware of Cowperwood’s arrival, and he really interested in but one thing: peace and affection between himself and Berenice.

And Stane very much pleased because in Cowperwood’s absence he had not only made some progress with the underground business but also with Cowperwood’s ward. In truth, Stane was half in love. He had been at Pryor’s Cove several times following Berenice’s Tregasal visit. And hope in connection with his affection was giving strength to the thought that he should persist in his quest. He might win. Berenice might fall in love with him and consent to become his wife. Cowperwood should not look too unfavorably on such a development. It should lead to a closer union between all. Of course, he would need to know more about Berenice and her true relation to Cowperwood. He had not troubled to investigate as yet. But even if he found her background not as perfect as it might be, Berenice was still the most fascinating woman he had ever known. She was certainly not attempting to lure him; it was he who was definitely pursuing her.

At the same time Berenice was at once pleased and troubled by two developments: one the fact that Stane seemed to be so very much interested in her, and the other that since her visit to Tregasal he had suggested, among other things, that she and her mother, together with the Cowperwoods, might join him for a cruise on his yacht, the Iola, before the end of autumn. The trip could include a stopover at Cowes, where King Edward and Queen Alexandra were likely to be at that time, and he would be glad to present them to their majesties, for both the king and queen were old friends of his father’s.

At the mention of Aileen, Berenice experienced a mental chill. For if Aileen went on such a cruise, neither she nor her mother could go. If Aileen did not go, some accident-proof explanation would have to be made to Stane. If Cowperwood and she together were to accept this invitation, it would mean they would have to reach a diplomatic if not exactly harmonious agreement, and this was not exactly desirable to her at the moment. If she did not go with him, or went without him, it might mean the elimination of him from her life. And that again would mean explanations and readjustments probably fatal to all concerned.

In the face of her present resentment toward Cowperwood, she was in no position to decide quickly. For dream as she might about Stane, it was quite obvious that without Cowperwood’s good will, she was not likely to extricate herself from the various complications which confronted her. Sufficiently angered, he could destroy her instantly. Sufficiently indifferent, he might allow Aileen and others to do as much. Also, in turning all this over in her mind she was confronted by the fact that her temperament as well as her general viewpoint appeared to crave Cowperwood and not Stane. She was strongest when supplemented by him. And weighing all that was to be weighed in connection with Stane, there remained the outstanding fact that he did not match Cowperwood in vigor, resourcefulness, naturalness, or the humanness of his approach to life. And it was these things more than anything else that caused her to realize that she desired to be with Cowperwood more than with anyone else, to hear his voice, to observe his gestures, sense his dynamic and seemingly unterrified approach to life. It was when he was with her that she felt her own strength magnified and without his brave support what would her personal reactions to all this now be? It caused her, in the face of Stane’s suggestions, to indulge in no definite comment other than that her guardian could, at times, be strangely perverse and intractable, and that she would be compelled to leave these invitations in abeyance pending his return to England. At the same time, as she smilingly indicated, she was very much in favor of it. And if he were willing to leave it to her, perhaps it could be arranged.

A cheerful, if slightly formal, greeting from Berenice, which gave no least hint of difficulties, was waiting for Cowperwood when he reached his hotel. However, he was one who could not only sense danger but fairly register the vigorous thoughts of others in regard to himself, and he was already aware of inimical moods in her direction. In fact, long before he reached England, he had been fully convinced that his affair with Lorna was known to Berenice. He could feel it in the region of his solar plexus. It put him on his guard and sharpened his wits for any possible emergency. Already he had decided not to attempt evasion in any form, but, rather, feel his way according to Berenice’s mood and manner.

And so, Pryor’s Cove, colored by the mood of autumn, the leaves slightly reddened and yellowed. There were wreaths of mist on the river, even at noon, the hour of his arrival. And as he drew near he was most vividly conscious of all the bright summer days he might have spent here with Berenice. But now the thing to do was to face her frankly; let her once more sense him as he really was. That method had proved so propitious and effective in connection with other difficulties that he was satisfied to think it might prove so now. Besides, was there not Stane to balance Lorna? Guilty or not, Berenice might be made to feel dubious in regard to her own position.

As he drove in, Piggott, the gardener, visible behind a hedge he was trimming, bowed a greeting. In the paddock adjoining Stane’s stables, the horses were warming themselves in the autumn sun, and about the stable