Chapter 13

Thus almost before Archie knew it he had taken to himself Adelle Clark as wife, the ceremony being witnessed by the consular clerk,--Morris McBride of Chicago,--and an ex-sailor on his way back to New York of the name of Harrington. Adelle distributed the remaining pieces of gold in her purse in the way of _pour-boires_, and then the two found themselves in the runabout on the Avenue de l'Opéra--married.

"I didn't know it could be done so easily," Archie observed breathlessly.

"Anything can be done when you want to, if you have the money," Adelle replied, evincing how thoroughly she had mastered the philosophy of the magic lamp.

"And what shall we do now?" her husband inquired.

(They say that in marriage the first trivial events are significant of what will happen thereafter, like straws upon the stream betraying which way the current flows. Possibly Archie's question indicates the quality of this marriage, also the fact that presently Adelle set their course.)

The consular clerk, judging that his compatriots were affluent, had hinted at the propriety of a wedding feast at the Café de Paris; but Adelle, who hated dinners, vetoed the suggestion. Archie was for returning unsentimentally to the empty studio for their wedding night, as they were short of cash and it was after banking hours. But Adelle had not dashed madly across half of France in the night to spend the first hours of her honeymoon in a dusty, hot studio on the Rue de l'Université. She turned the car into the great Avenue and swept on past the Arch, through the Bois, out into the open country. Ultimately the lack of _petrol_ stopped them at a little wayside _cabaret_ some miles outside of the fortifications, where, too exhausted to proceed farther, they decided to spend the night.

XXIV

Fortunately Adelle was not of an imaginative habit of mind. She rarely envisaged with keenness anything of the future, and thus escaped many of the perplexities and annoyances of life, with some of its pleasures. Hers was always a single road,--from desire to the gratification of desire,--as it had been with Archie. Thus far her nature had developed few disturbing impulses, which accounts for the simple, not to say dull, character of her story up to the present. Even the supreme desire of woman's heart had come to her in a commonplace way and had been fulfilled precipitately, as the desires of the untutored usually are, but uncomplexly. As she fondly contemplated her husband the next morning, she did not realize that in one swift day she had accomplished the main drama of her existence and henceforth must be content with the humdrum course of life. Archie was scarcely more concerned with mental complexities.

"Won't Pussy Comstock be jarred!" was about the depth of his reaction to the momentous step they had taken.

Adelle smiled a wary smile in answer: she distinctly enjoyed having both outwitted Pussy and escaped the bother of opposition to her desires and the shafts of ridicule. She stroked her master's bright red hair and kissed him again. They felt very well content with themselves this morning. Archie certainly ought to have congratulated himself. He had a young wife, who loved him to distraction and who was extremely well-to-do, and, moreover, had no inconvenient relatives to "cut up ugly" over her imprudent step. There was only a trust company to reckon with, and what can a trust company do when it feels fussed and aggrieved?...

After a leisurely breakfast and more love-making under the plane trees in the little garden behind the inn, the pair had to reckon with fact. They must get some money at once: they had only enough loose silver in their two purses to pay the modest charges at the _cabaret_ and buy a litre or two of _petrol_ to get them to Paris. Yet they dallied on in the way of young love and drove up to the bank just before it closed. When Adelle in her nonchalant manner asked the young man at the window to give her five thousand francs in notes, she received a great shock--the worst shock of her life. The young cashier, who had paid out to her through the little brass _guichet_ many tens of thousands of pretty white notes and gold-pieces, informed her that he could not give her any money. It developed, under a storm of exclamation and protest, that only that noon the bankers had received a cablegram from their correspondent in America curtly directing them not to cash further drafts drawn by Miss Clark against the Washington Trust Company. The magic lamp had gone out most inopportunely! In vain Adelle expostulated, declared there was a mistake, even introduced to the cashier "my husband," who looked uncomfortable, but tried to assume authority and demanded reasons for the bank's treatment of his wife. All the reason lay in that brief cablegram. The couple at last turned dejectedly into the street and again got into Adelle's runabout, which obviously was in need of more _petrol_.

"It's Pussy," Adelle pronounced with divination.

"If it is, she's got in her fine work fast."

The two might reflect sadly that if they had been prudent, they would not have spent all that morning in love-making, having a lifetime for that, but would have taken prompt measures to secure funds as soon as the bank opened. Of course, it had never occurred to either of them that trouble would fall in just this way.

And now what was to be done? Adelle felt that they should drive at once to the Villa Ponitowski, secure her clothes and jewelry, and make Pussy, who she had no doubt was there, bank them until the embargo on her drafts was raised. But neither had what Archie called "the nerve" to do this. So they went for refuge to the only place they knew, Miss Baxter's studio.

There they found Miss Comstock. She had come to Paris, of course, by the first train the day before, arriving at the studio shortly after they had left in search of food. She had vibrated between the studio and the Neuilly villa ever since, sure that when Adelle was short of funds she would go home to roost. And Pussy had taken immediate measures to cut off funds by cabling to the trust company the exact facts of Adelle's disappearance in company with the Californian. She received them amiably.

"My dear Adelle," she began, "you should not be so eccentric. You gave us all a shock!... I was coming up to Paris and would have been glad to motor up with you and--er--Mr. Davis, I believe." There was a deadly pause while she scrutinized the guilty couple through her glasses, as if she were determining the exact extent of the mischief already done. She looked disgustedly over the dusty studio and observed,--"It's not a sweet place for--er--love-making is it? Why didn't you go to the Villa, my dear, and let Marie look after you?"

Archie laughed inanely. Adelle felt that she could not stand more of this feline fooling. She said bluntly,--

"We're married."

"Married! So soon! How--er--nice!" Pussy commented.

"Yes, we're married, Miss Comstock," Archie added lamely, mopping his brow.

"You don't mean that?" Miss Comstock said quickly, her tone changing.

Adelle nodded.

"Then it is really a serious matter."

Adelle's blood froze.

"I can't believe you have been such a fool," she said to the girl. "Or you such a scamp," she turned upon the frightened youth.

It seemed to Adelle that Pussy would have condoned anything or everything except that fatal visit to the consulate. Pussy's morals, she knew, were of the strictly serviceable sort, and she was gladder than ever that she had prodded Archie into having the ceremony performed at once. Now Pussy could do nothing but scold.

But Miss Comstock accepted only the inevitable, and she was not yet convinced that the visit to the consulate and the ceremony there constituted an inevitable marriage. She pleaded with Adelle to leave her so-called husband and come back with her to the Neuilly villa "until the matter could be straightened out, and an announcement of the marriage made to the world," as she was wily enough to put it. But Adelle was adamant. Archie, to whom the woman next appealed, was more yielding. She succeeded in frightening him, talking about the dangers of French laws that had to do with minors. Of course they had lied about Adelle's age, and there were all sorts of complications besides the scandal, which was perfectly needless in any case. And Miss Comstock assured them that the trust company would probably take every step to annul the marriage. There was a very hard road ahead of them if they persisted in their idiotic course. Finally she even suggested that Archie might return to the Villa with them until his status could be determined. Adelle, however, feared Pussy's cleverness and would not stir from the studio. All through the protracted interview in this crisis, when her heart's desire was threatened, Adelle displayed surprising courage and steadfastness of purpose. Her courage naturally was an egotistic courage: it amounted in sum to this--nobody should take away her toy from her this time. And finally Miss Comstock retired from the scene defeated and somewhat venomous.

"I hope, my dear," she sent as a parting shot, "that Mr. Davis can give you the comforts you are used to. I think it may be extremely difficult for you to use your own money for the present."

Adelle seemed quite indifferent to the comforts she had been used to, although she well knew that there was not a five-franc piece in the studio, when Miss Comstock departed to cable the trust company the results of her interview. The trust company, it may be said in passing, was much upset over the news, and after consultation decided to send the third vice-president across the ocean to examine into the matter, Mr. Ashly Crane having declined to undertake the delicate mission. Meantime they did not rescind their instructions to their Paris correspondent, and so for some days to come the young people were reduced to absurd straits for the want of money.

* * * * *

After Pussy had gone, with her threat, Adelle burst into tears and accused Archie of not supporting her in this battle. Was she not giving up everything for him?--etc. Archie had his first lesson in being the husband of an heiress, even a much-petted husband. It was finally learned, and kisses were exchanged. Then they thought to appease their hunger, which by this time was acute, and debated how this was to be done. Adelle was confident that on the morrow she could sell what jewelry she had with her for enough to support them pleasantly until she could make it right with the trust company and get hold of her lamp again. For this evening she borrowed five francs from the suspicious and unwilling concierge, and with the money Archie went forth to the corner and brought back a dubious mess of cold food and a bottle of poor wine, which they consumed in the dark studio, then went to sleep upon the divan in each other's arms like a couple of romance. Rather late in the day on the morrow Adelle sallied out in a cab to the Rue de la Paix confident that she would return with much gold. She found naturally that her own handiwork was unsalable at any price, and that the fashionable shops where she had dealt prodigally would not advance her a cent even upon their own wares. Pussy, she realized, had shut off also this avenue to ease! They were obliged to induce the concierge's wife to pledge at the pawnshop the more marketable things Adelle had with her. With the few francs thus derived they managed to picnic in the studio for the next week. They became acquainted with busses and the _batteau mouche_ and other lowly forms of transportation and amusement, but spent most of their time in the studio, love-making, of which Adelle did not weary. Archie was used to the devices of a short purse and Adelle thought it all a great lark for love's sake. Besides, it must end soon, and the high noon of prosperity return with the possession of her precious lamp. To hasten that event she wrote a rather peremptory note to the Washington Trust Company, notifying them of her change of name and complaining of the mistake they had made in cutting off her drafts. It would take a fortnight at the most to get a reply, and then all would be right. Archie did not feel so confident.

XXV

Prosperity did not return as completely as Adelle expected, nor as easily. Mr. Solomon Smith, the vice-president of the trust company, arrived in Paris in due course on the seventh day and fell naturally first into the hands of Miss Comstock. For Pussy, realizing to the full the consequences of this situation to herself as an exploiter of rich American girls from the very best families, had moved her family back to the Villa Ponitowski and had set the stage demurely and convincingly for the arrival of the trust company's emissary. She impressed Mr. Smith easily as an intelligent and prudent woman, who was terribly concerned over Adelle's false step, and quite blameless in the affair.

"Such an unfortunate accident," she explained to him, "from every point of view:--think of my dear girls, the example to them!... And such deceit,--one would not have expected it of the girl, I must say!... I know nothing whatever about the young man, except that he comes from the West--from California. One of my girls--a daughter of Hermann Paul, the rich San Francisco railroad man, you know--tells me that this Davis fellow is of most ordinary people, what is called a 'bounder,' you know. Adelle naturally did not meet him here, but at the studio of one of her friends. I knew nothing whatever about it until just before the elopement--the very day before, in fact, when I surprised them together in a motor-car. I spoke to the girl that night, of course, kindly but severely. I had no idea she could do such a thing! It must have been in her mind a long time. The girl showed great powers of duplicity, all the trickiness of a parvenue, to be quite frank. I never had a girl of such low tastes, I may say;--all my girls are from the very best families, most carefully selected."

Thus Miss Comstock skillfully contrived to throw the responsibility for Adelle's misstep upon her birth and upon the trust company which had brought her up. In doing this she but confirmed Mr. Smith in his opinion that the guardianship of minor girls was not a branch of the business that the Washington Trust Company should undertake. They lacked the proper facilities, as he would express it, and it was more of a nuisance than it was worth. He had had a tempestuous September passage across the ocean and dreaded the return voyage.

Having won a vantage-point Miss Comstock next proceeded to give a piquant account of Mr. Ashly Crane's dealings with the girl, who in a way had been his special charge.

"Fortunately I nipped that affair in the bud," she said, "although, as it turned out, I suppose he might have been less objectionable than the fellow she took. I am afraid that Mr. Crane lowered the girl's ideals of manhood and thus paved the way for her fall," she added gravely.

Mr. Smith listened to the tale of Mr. Crane's futile attempt in rising astonishment and wrath. He was himself a married man with a family of growing daughters. He made a mental note of Mr. Crane's conduct, which ultimately terminated that promising young banker's career in finance with the trust company.

"Where is the girl?" he asked at the end, sighing. "I must see her, I suppose, though it seems too late to do anything now."

Pussy had sagely taken account of Mr. Solomon Smith's character and concluded that the banker was the sort of middle-class American who might insist upon the young couple's being married all over again in due form if he suspected anything irregular, and so to save bother all around she assured him that she herself had made inquiry at the consulate and found that the marriage performed there was binding enough,--"unless the trust company wished to intervene as guardian of the minor and contest its validity on the ground of misrepresentation of Adelle's age," which, of course, must involve considerable scandal.

"It would be very unpleasant, indeed," she said meaningly.

The banker, who hated all publicity for himself and for his institution, hastened to say that he had no idea of taking such action; merely wished to be sure that the girl was really married and that her children, if any came to her, would be born in lawful wedlock. Miss Comstock hid a smile and set his mind at rest on that point.

(One sequel of this affair, by the way, was the prompt conclusion of Mr. Morris McBride's diplomatic career: he returned presently to a patient fatherland to renew in Cook County, Illinois, his services to the Republican Party.)

After a delectable luncheon at Miss Comstock's, Mr. Smith drove alone from the Neuilly villa to Miss Baxter's studio, where he found the young couple somewhat in négligé, recovering from one of the concierge's indigestible repasts, funds now running too low to permit them to indulge in restaurant life. The untidy studio and the disheveled couple themselves made a very bad impression upon the trust company's officer, who loathed from the depths of his orderly soul all slatternness and especially "bohemian art." He examined the young husband through his horn-bowed glasses so sternly that Archie slunk into the darkest corner of the studio and remained there during the banker's visit, which he left to Adelle to bear. Mr. Smith could not be harsh with the young bride, no matter how foolish and wrong-headed he thought her.

"Mrs.--er--Davis," he began, going straight to the point like a business man, "I am informed that you are regularly married. It might be possible to have such a marriage as you have chosen to make set aside on the ground that you are a minor--still a ward of an American court--and misrepresented your age to the consular officer."

Adelle opened her gray eyes in consternation. Were they, after all, thinking of taking Archie from her? But she was reassured by the trust officer's next words.

"Your guardians, however, will in all likelihood not take any such steps--I shall not recommend it. Although you yet lack eighteen months of being legally of age, and of course ought not to have married without our consent, nevertheless you are of an age when many young women assume the responsibilities of marriage. The facts being what they are,"--he paused to look around disgustedly at the evidences of the picnicking _mênage_,--"I see no use in our interfering now in this unfortunate affair."

Adelle's pale face brightened. He was a good old sort, she thought, and wasn't going to make trouble, after all,--merely lecture them a bit, and she composed her face properly to receive his scolding. It came, but it was not very bad, at least Adelle did not feel its sting.

"It is also needless for me to pain you," he began, "by telling you what I--what every mature person--must think of your rash step. Its consequences upon your own future life will probably manifest themselves only too soon. For a young girl like you, carefully brought up under the best educational influences, and still in the charge of a--er--companion,--" Adelle smiled demurely at Mr. Smith's difficulty in finding the right word to describe Pussy Comstock,--"to deceive the kind watchfulness, the confidence reposed in you, and carry on clandestine relations"--What's that? thought Adelle--"with the first young fellow who presents himself, indicates a serious lack on your part of something that every woman should have to--er--to cope with life successfully," he concluded, letting her down at the end softly.

This long sentence, by the way, was an interesting composite of several "forms" that Mr. Smith used frequently on different occasions. It did not impress Adelle as it should. She felt, as a matter of fact, that in deceiving Pussy, she had merely pitted her feeble will and intelligence against a much stronger one of an experienced woman, who was none too scrupulous in her own methods. Also that in acting as she had in running away with Archie, she had displayed the first real gleam of character in her whole life. But she could not put these things into words. So she let Mr. Smith continue without protest, which was the best way.

"As for the husband you have chosen, I know nothing about him of course. I can only say that men of standing have slight regard for any man who takes advantage of the weakness and folly of a school-girl, especially when he has everything to gain financially from her and nothing to give."

Archie winced at this truthful statement and nervously dropped a palette with which he had been fussing. It clattered to the floor and broke, setting the nerves of all three on edge.

"Such a man," Mr. Smith proceeded in his most acid tones, glaring at Archie, "is properly called an adventurer, and rarely if ever proves to have character enough to retain the respect of the woman he has wheedled into sacrificing herself."

This was a bit unfair, for Archie had been wheedled rather than wheedled Adelle. Moreover, the world is full, as Mr. Smith must surely know, of young men who have committed matrimony with girls financially to their advantage and who have retained not only their own self-respect, but won the admiration of their acquaintances into the bargain for their skill and good luck.

And Adelle resented the slur for Archie even more than the young man did. She felt vaguely that Archie ought to do something to demonstrate that he was not a worthless character, possibly kick Mr. Smith out of the studio, at least protest at being called a "cad" and "adventurer." But Archie took it all meekly and busied himself with recovering the pieces of the broken palette from the floor. Mr. Smith did not press his dialectic advantage; in other words, did not specifically hit Archie again. Perhaps a human compunction, for the sake of the young girl who had just rashly hazarded her life's happiness with the young man, restrained him. He turned instead again to Adelle in a gentler tone.

"I feel sincerely sorry for you, Mrs. Davis. A young woman in your position, without family or near friends to shield her, is exposed to all the evil selfishness of the world. You have succumbed, I am afraid, to a delusion, although the trust company did its best to supply your lack of natural protectors, to shield you."

He reflected, perhaps, that the trust company had been, even from the easy American standard, a rather negligent parent, chiefly concerned with its ward's fortune, and hastened to say defensively,--"We placed you with an excellent woman,"--Adelle had placed herself, but it made no difference,--"one in whom we have every confidence not only as a teacher, but also as a friend and guide." Even Adelle smiled broadly at this description of Pussy. "But all our care has been in vain: you have put us now where we cannot help you further!"

Adelle lowered her eyes, but felt happier--the sermon was coming to an end.

"It is useless for me to continue, however. It rests with you alone, with you and your husband,"--he pronounced the term with infinite scorn,--"to prove that your rash choice is not what it seems,--the end of your career, the end of your happiness. And it rests with you, sir," he added severely, looking over at Archie, "to prove that you are man enough to be a kind husband to the girl who has married you under such circumstances. I sincerely hope that your future will be better than your act promises!"

Here was another opening for the kick, but Archie failed to grasp it. He took his cue from Adelle and maintained a sulky silence.

"There remains but one more thing for me to speak of, Mrs. Davis, and that is your property, of which the trust company must continue guardian for nearly two years more until you become of age and the company is released from its guardianship by the court."

The couple pricked up their ears with relief at the mention of property.