The Cords of Vanity. A Comedy of Shirking

that I had absolutely no sense of the responsibilities of life? Well, I really haven't, dear stranger, as you appraise them; and, indeed, I fear we must postpone our agreement upon any possible subject, until the coming of the Coquecigrues. We see the world so differently, you and I,—and for that same reason I cannot but adore you, Rosalind. For with you I can always speak my true thought and know that you will never for a moment suspect it to be anything but irony. Ah, yes, we can laugh and joke together, and be thorough friends; but if there is anything certain in this world of uncertainties, it is that I am not, and cannot be, in love with you. And yet—I wonder now?' said I, and I rose and paced Aunt Marcia's parlour.

'You wonder? Don't you understand even now?' the girl said shyly. 'I am not as clever as you, of course; I have known that for a long while, Jaques; and to-night in particular I don't quite follow you, my dear, but I love you, and—why, there is nothing I could deny you!'

'Then give me back my freedom,' said I. 'For, look you, Rosalind, marriage is proverbially a slippery business. Always there are a variety of excellent reasons for perpetrating matrimony; but the rub of it is that not any one of them insures you against to-morrow. Love, for example, we have all heard of; but I have known fine fellows to fling away their chances in life, after the most approved romantic fashion, on account of a pretty stenographer, and to beat her within the twelvemonth. And upon my word, you know, nobody has a right to blame the swindled lover for doing this—'

I paused to inspect the china pug-dog which squatted on the pink-tiled hearth and which glared inanely at the huge brass coal-box just opposite. Then I turned from these two abominations and faced Rosalind with a bantering flirt of my head.

'—For put it that I marry some entrancing slip of girlhood, what am I to say when, later, I discover myself irrevocably chained to a fat and dowdy matron? I married no such person, I have indeed sworn eternal fidelity to an entirely different person; and this unsolicited usurper of my hearth is nothing whatever to me, unless perhaps the object of my entire abhorrence. Yet am I none the less compelled to justify the ensuing action before an irrational audience, which faces common logic in very much the attitude of Augustine's famed adder! Decidedly I think that, on the whole, I would prefer my Freedom.'

It was as though I had struck her. She sat as if frozen. 'Jaques, is there another woman in this?'

'Why, in a fashion, yes. Yet it is mainly because I am really fond of you, Rosalind.'

She handed me that exceedingly expensive ring the jeweler had charged to me. I thought her action damnably theatrical, but still, it was not as though I could afford to waste money on rings, so I took the trinket absent-mindedly.

'You are unflatteringly prompt in closing out the account,' I said, with a grieved smile….

'Good-bye!' said Rosalind, and her voice broke. 'Oh, and I had thought—! Well, as it is, I pay for the luxury of thinking, just as you forewarned me, don't I, Jaques? And you won't forget the hall-light? Aunt Marcia, you know— but how glad she will be! I feel rather near to Aunt Marcia to-night,' said Rosalind.

7

She left Lichfield the next day but one, and spent the following winter with the aunt that lived in Brooklyn. She was Rosalind Gelwix the next time I saw her….

And Aunt Marcia, whose taste is upon a par with her physical attractions, inserted a paragraph in the 'Social Items' of the Lichfield Courier-Herald to announce the breaking-off of the engagement. Aunt Marcia also took the trouble to explain, quite confidentially, to some seven hundred and ninety-three people, just why the engagement had been broken off: and these explanations were more creditable to Mrs. Dumby's imagination than to me.

And I remembered, then, that the last request my mother made of me was to keep out of the newspapers —'except, of course, the social items'….

20. He Dines Out, Impeded by Superstitions

1

Within the week I had repented of what I termed my idiotic quixotism, and for precisely nine days after that I cursed my folly. And then, at the Provises, I comprehended that in breaking off my engagement to Rosalind Jemmett I had acted with profound wisdom, and I unfolded my napkin, and said:

'Do you know I didn't catch your name—not even this time?'

She took a liberal supply of lemon juice. 'How delightful!' she murmured, 'for I heard yours quite distinctly, and these oysters are delicious.'

I noted with approval that her gown was pink and fluffy; it had also the advantage of displaying shoulders that were incredibly white, and a throat which was little short of marvellous. 'I am glad,' I whispered, confidentially, 'that you are still wearing that faint vein about your left temple. I thought it admirable for early morning wear upon the house tops of Liege, but it seems equally effective for dinner parties.'

She raised her eyebrows slightly and selected a biscuit.

'You see,' said I, 'I was horribly late. And when Kittie Provis said, 'Allow me,' and I saw—well, I didn't care,' I concluded, lucidly, 'because to have every one of your dreams come true, all of a sudden, leaves you past caring.'

'It really is funny,' she confided to a spoonful of consomme a la Julienne. 

'After almost two years!' sighed I, ever so happily. But I continued, with reproach, 'To go without a word— that very day—'

'Mamma—' she began.

I recalled the canary-bird, and the purple shawl. 'I sought wildly,' said I; 'you were evanished. The proprietaire was tearing his hair—no insurance—he knew nothing. So I too tore my hair; and I said things. There was a row. For he also said things: 'Figure to yourselves, messieurs! I lose the Continental—two ladies come and go, I know not who—I am ruined, desolated, is it not?—and this pig of an American blusters—ah, my new carpets, just down, what horror!' And then, you know, he launched into a quite feeling peroration concerning our notorious custom of tomahawking one another—

'Yes,' I coldly concluded into Mrs. Clement Dumby's ear, 'we all behaved disgracefully. As you very justly observe, liquor has been the curse of the South.' It was of a piece with Kittie Provis to put me next to Aunt Marcia, I reflected.

And mentally I decided that even though a portion of my assertions had not actually gone through the formality of occurring, it all might very easily have happened, had I remained a while longer in Liege; and then ensued a silent interval and an entree.

'And so—?'

'And so I knocked about the world, in various places, hoping against hope that at last—'

'Your voice carries frightfully—'

I glanced toward Mrs. Clement Dumby, who, as a dining dowager of many years' experience, was, to all appearances, engrossed by the contents of her plate. 'My elderly neighbour is as hard of hearing as a telephone- girl,' I announced. She was the exact contrary, which was why I said it quite audibly. 'And your neighbour—why, his neighbour is Nannie Allsotts. We might as well be on a desert island, Elena—' And the given name slipped out so carelessly as to appear almost accidental.

'Sir!' said she, with proper indignation; 'after so short an acquaintance—'

'Centuries,' I suggested, meekly. 'You remember I explained about that.'