The Proof of the Pudding by Meredith Nicholson - HTML preview

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CHAPTER XI
 
CANOEING

LIFE began to move more briskly for Nan. She was not aware that certain invitations that reached her were due to a few words carefully spoken in safe quarters by Eaton.

One of the first large functions of the dawning season was a tea given by Mrs. Harrington for a visitor. Mrs. Harrington not only asked Nan to assist, but she extended the invitation personally in the Farley parlor, much to Nan’s astonishment.

One or two young gentlemen who had paid Nan attentions when she first came home from school looked her up again. John Cecil Eaton was highly regarded by the younger men he met at the University Club, and was not without influence. A reference to Nan as an unusual person; some saying of hers, quoted carelessly at the round table, was instrumental in directing attention anew to her as a girl worth knowing. If any one said, “How’s her affair with Copeland going?” Eaton would retort, icily, that it wasn’t going; that there never had been anything in it but shameless gossip.

Jerry now reserved his Thursday evenings for Nan: not for any particular reason except that Eaton had taken him to the Farleys on a Thursday and from sentimental considerations he consecrated the day to repetitions of the visit. Nan was immensely kind to him; it was incredible that a girl so separated from him by immeasurable distances should be so cordial, so responsive to his overtures of friendship. Once she sent him a note—the frankest, friendliest imaginable note—to say that on a particular Thursday evening she could not see him. His disappointment was as nothing when weighed against his joy that she recognized his claim upon that particular evening and took the trouble to explain that the nurse would be out and that she would be too busy with Farley to see him. He replied with flowers—which brought him another note.

He had laid before her all his plans for self-improvement and her encouragement was even more stimulating than Eaton’s. She fell at times into a maternal attitude toward him, scolding and lecturing him, and he was meek under her criticism.

Nan felt more at home with him than with any other young man who called on her. With some of these, whose mothers and sisters had been treating her coldly, she felt herself to be playing a part—trying to assume a dignity that was not naturally hers in order that they might give a good account of her at home. With Jerry she could be herself without dissimulation. When it came to mothers, he remembered her mother perfectly and she remembered his. In a sense she and Jerry were allies, engaged in accommodating themselves to a somewhat questioning if not hostile atmosphere. In all her acquaintance he was the one person who could make the necessary allowances for her, who was able to give her full credit for her good intentions.

On his seventh call he summoned courage to ask her to join him on a Saturday afternoon excursion on the river.

“The foliage is unusually beautiful this year,” he suggested with his air of quoting, “and it’ll be too cold for canoeing pretty soon.”

“I’m afraid—” Nan began.

“I knew you’d say that; but you’re as safe in my boat as in your own rocking-chair.”

“I wasn’t going to say that,” laughed Nan. “I was going to say that I was afraid you wouldn’t enjoy the foliage so much if I were along.”

He saw that she was laughing at him. Nan and Eaton were the only persons whose mirth he suffered without resentment.

“I’ll have to ask papa about it; or maybe you’ll ask him.”

“I’ve already asked him.”

“When did you ask him?”

“About ten minutes ago, just before I came downstairs. I told him two good stories and then shot it in quick. He said he thought it would do you good!”

“I like your nerve! Why didn’t you ask me first?”

“Because it was much more proper for me to open negotiations with the man higher up. I hope you appreciate my delicacy,” he added, in Eaton’s familiar, half-mocking tone, which he had caught perfectly.

“You’re so thoughtful I suppose you’ve also arranged for a chaperone?”

“The canoe,” he replied, “is more comfortable for two.”

“Two have been in it rather often, I suppose.”

“Yes; but that was last summer. I’ve seen everything different this season. I practiced casting on a day in June and met with an experience that has changed the whole current of my life.”

“I hope it changed your luck with the rod! You got snagged on everything that would hold a hook, but I must say that you bore your troubles in a sweet spirit.”

“I learned that early in the game. Even if you refused my invitation I’d try to bear up under it.”

“I think I’ll decline, then, just to see how you take it.”

“Well, it’s only polite to say it would be a blow. I have a pocketful of strychnine and it might be unpleasant to have me die on the doorstep.”

“I could stand that probably better than the neighbors could. You’d better try a poison that’s warranted not to kill on the premises.”

Jerry tortured himself with speculations as to whether he should hire a taxi to transport them to the Little Ripple Club, but finally decided against it as an unwarranted extravagance, calculated to arouse suspicion in the mind of Farley. However, when he reached the house at two o’clock on Saturday, Nan announced that the nurse was taking her place as Farley’s companion for his regular drive and that they would carry them to the club. This arrangement caused his breast to swell.

“That will give my credit a big boost; you’ll see a lot of the boys drop dead when we roll up with Uncle Tim.”

Farley alighted to inspect the clubhouse and the fleet of canoes that bobbed at the landing. It was a great day for Jerry.

“There’s something nice about a river,” said Nan, as Jerry sent his maroon-colored craft far out into the stream. “Ever since I came away I’ve missed the old river at Belleville.”

This was one of the things he liked about Nan. She referred often to her childhood, and it even seemed that she spoke of it with a certain wistfulness.

“The last girl I had out here,” Jerry said as he plied his blade, “was Katie McCarthy, who works in the County Treasurer’s office—mighty responsible job. I used to know Katie when she stenogged at four per for a punk lawyer, but I knew she was better than that, so I pulled a few wires and got her into the court-house. Katie could be cashier in a bank—she’s that smart! No; not much to look at. I studied Katie’s case a good deal, and she’d never make any headway in offices where they’d rather have a yellow-haired girl who overdresses the part and is always slipping out for a retouch with the chamois. It’s hard to find a job for girls like Katie; their only chance is some place where they’ve got to have a girl with brains. These perfumed office darlings, that’s just got to go to vaudeville every Monday night so they can talk about it the rest of the week, never get anywhere.”

“My heart warms to Katie. I wonder,” murmured Nan lazily, as Jerry neatly negotiated a shallow passage between two sandbars, “if I had to do it—I wonder how much I could earn a week.”

“Oh, I guess you’d make good all right. You’ve got brains and I’ve never caught you touching up your complexion.”

“Which isn’t any sign I don’t,” she laughed. “I’ve all the necessary articles right here in my sweater pocket.”

“Well, somebody has to use the talcum; we handle it in carload lots. It’s one of the Copeland-Farley specialties I used to brag about easiest when I bore the weighty sample-case down the line. It was a good stunt to ask the druggist to introduce me to some of the girls that’s always loafing round the soda-counter in country-town drug stores, and I’d hand ’em out a box and ask ’em to try it on right there. It cheered up the druggist and the girls would help me pull a bigger order than I’d get on my own hook. A party like that on a sleepy afternoon in a pill-shop would lift the sky-line considerable.”

“Well, if you saw me in a drug store wrestling with a chocolate sundae and had your sample-case open and were trying to coax an order out of a druggist, just how would you approach me?”

“I wouldn’t!” he responded readily. “I’d get your number on the quiet and walk past your house when your mother was sitting on the porch all alone, darning socks, and I’d beg her pardon and say that, having heard that her daughter was the most beautiful girl in town, Copeland-Farley had sent me all the way from the capital to ask her please to accept, with the house’s compliments, a gross of our Faultless Talcum. If mother didn’t ask me to supper, it would be a sign that I hadn’t put it over.”

“But if father appeared with a shotgun—”

“I’d tell him it was the closed season for drummers, and invite him down to the hotel for a game of billiards.”

“You think you always have the answer, don’t you?” she taunted.

“I don’t think it; I’ve got to know it!”

“Well, I haven’t seen you miss fire yet. My trouble is,” she deliberated, touching the water lightly with her hand, “that I don’t have the answer most of the time.”

“I’ve noticed it sometimes,” replied Jerry, looking at her quickly.

It was unseasonably warm, and he drove the canoe on to a sandy shore in the shade of the bank. He had confessed to himself that at times, even in their juvenile badgering, Nan baffled him. From the beginning of their acquaintance he had noted abrupt changes of mood that puzzled him. Occasionally, in the midst of the aimless banter in which they engaged, she would cease to respond and a far-away look would come into her violet eyes. One of these moods was upon her now.

“Do you remember the shanty-boat people down along the river? I used to think it would be fun to live like that. I still feel that way sometimes.”

“Oh,” he answered indulgently, “I guess everybody has a spell of that now and then, when you just want to sort of loaf along, and fish a little when you’re hungry, and trust to luck for a handout at some back door when you’re too lazy to bait the hook. That feeling gets hold of me lots of times; but I shake it off pretty soon. You don’t get anywhere loafing; the people that get along have got to hustle. Cecil says we can’t just mark time in this world. We either go ahead or slide back.”

“Well, I’m a slider—if you can slide without ever getting up very far!”

“Look here,” he said, drawing in the paddle and fixing his eyes upon her intently, “you said something like that the first night Cecil took me up to see you, and you’ve got a touch of it again; but it’s the wrong talk. I’m going to hand it to you straight, because I guess I’ve got more nerve than anybody else you know: you haven’t got a kick coming, and you want to cut all that talk. Uncle Tim gets cross sometimes, but you don’t want to worry about that too much. He used to be meaner than fleas at the store sometimes, but the boys never worried about it. He’s all sound inside, and if he riles you the best thing to do is to forget it. You can’t please him all the time, but you can most of the time, and it’s up to you to do it. Now, tell me to jump in the river if you want to, but it was in my system and I had to get it out.”

“Oh, I know I ought to be grateful; but I’m wrong some way.”

“You’re all right,” he declared. “Your trouble is you don’t have enough to do. You ought to get interested in something—something that would keep you busy and whistling all the time.”

“I don’t have enough to do; I know that,” she assented.

“Well, you ought to go in good and strong for something; that’s the only ticket. Let’s get out and climb the bank and walk awhile.”

She had lost her bearings on the river, but when they had clambered to the top of the bank she found that they were near the Kinneys’. The road was a much-frequented highway, and she was sorry now that they had left the canoe; but Jerry, leading the way along a rough path that clung close to the river, continued to philosophize, wholly unconscious of the neighborhood’s associations for Nan.

Where the margin between the river and the road widened they sat on a log while Jerry amplified his views of life, with discreet applications to Nan’s case as he understood it. He was a cheery and hopeful soul, and in the light of her knowledge of him she marveled at his clear understanding of things. He confided to her that he meant to get on; he wanted to be somebody. She was wholly sympathetic and told him that he had already done a great deal; he had done a lot better than she had; and it counted for more because no one had helped him.

As they passed the Kinneys’ on their way back to the canoe, a roadster whizzed out of the gate and turned toward town. They both recognized Copeland. As he passed, his eyes fell upon them carelessly; then he glanced back and slowed down.

“Now we’re in for it!” said Nan uncomfortably.

“I guess I’m the one that’s in for it,” returned Jerry ruefully.

Copeland left his car at the roadside and walked rapidly toward them. He nodded affably to Jerry and extended his hand eagerly to Nan.

“This is great good luck! Grace is at home; why didn’t you come in?”

“Oh, Mr. Amidon is showing me the river; we just left the canoe to come up for a view from the bank.”

“Why not come back to Kinneys’; I want to see you; and this is a fine chance to have a talk.”

Jerry walked away and began throwing pebbles into the river.

“I can’t do that. And I can’t talk to you here. Papa drove me out and he’s likely to come back this way.”

“You seem to be pretty chummy with that clerk of mine,” Copeland remarked.

“I am; it began about sixteen years ago,” she answered, with a laugh. “We rose from the same ash-dump.”

He frowned, not comprehending. She was about to turn away when he began speaking rapidly:—

“You’ve got to hear me, Nan! I haven’t bothered you for a long time; you’ve treated me pretty shabbily after all there’s been between us; but you can square all that now. I’m in the deepest kind of trouble. Farley deliberately planned to ruin me and he’s about done it! I’ve paid him off, but I had to pledge half my stock in the store with the Western National to raise the money, and now my notes are due there and they’re going to pinch me. Eichberg is a director in the bank and he means to buy in that stock—you can see the game. Corbin & Eichberg are scheming to wipe me out and combine the two houses. And Farley’s put them up to it!”

His face twisted nervously as he talked. He was thinner than when she saw him last, but he bore no marks of hard living. His story was plausible; Farley had told her a month ago that he had got his money out of Copeland, but it hadn’t occurred to her that the loan might have been paid with money borrowed elsewhere.

“Of course, you won’t lose the business, Billy. It wouldn’t be square to treat you that way.”

“Square! I tell you it was all framed up, and I’ve reason to know that Farley stands in with them. It’s a fine revenge he’s taking on me for daring to love you!”

She shook her head and drew further away from him.

“Now, Billy, none of that! That’s all over.”

“No; it isn’t over! You know it isn’t, Nan! I’ve missed you; it cut me deep when you dropped me. You let Farley tell you I was all bad and going to the dogs and you didn’t even give me a chance to defend myself. I tell you I’ve suffered hell’s torments since I saw you last. But now I want you to tell me you do care. Please, dear—”

His voice broke plaintively. She shook her head.

“Of course we were good friends, Billy; but you knew we had to quit. It was wrong all the time—you knew that as well as I do.”

“I don’t see what was wrong about it! It can’t be wrong for a man to love a woman as I love you! If you hadn’t cared, it would be a different story, but you did, Nan! And you’re not the girl I know you to be if you’ve changed in these few weeks. I’ve got a big fight on and I want you to stand by me. Kinney’s in all kinds of trouble with the cement business. If he goes down, I’m ruined. But even at that you can help me make a new start. It will mean everything to have your love and help.”

He saw that his appeal had touched her. She was silent a moment.

“This won’t do, Billy; I can’t stand here talking to you; but I’m sorry for your troubles. I can’t believe you’re right about papa trying to injure you; he’s too fond of the old business for that. But we were good pals—you and I. I’ll try to think of some way to help.”

He caught her hands roughly.

“I need you; you know I love you! Farley’s told you I want to marry you for his money; but you can’t tell anything about him. Very likely he’ll cut you out, anyhow; he’s likely to do that very thing.”

She lifted her head and defiance shone for an instant in her eyes.

“I’ll let you hear from me within a week; I must have time— But keep up your spirits, Billy!”

The distant honking of a motor caused her to turn away quickly. Amidon had settled himself halfway down the bank and she called to him and began the descent....

If Jerry had expressed his feelings he would have said that Copeland’s appearance had given him a hard jar. It was annoying, just when you have reached the highest aim of your life, to have your feet knocked from under you. To have your boss spoil your afternoon with the prettiest girl in town was not only disagreeable, but it roused countless apprehensions.

For the afternoon was spoiled. Nan’s efforts to act as though nothing had happened were badly simulated, and finding that she lapsed frequently into long reveries, Jerry paddled doggedly back to the clubhouse.