CHAPTER XXIV

TRICKERY

The conventional living room was rendered gay by masses of spring flowers. Padding from vase to vase, Mme. Petrovskey inhaled their fragrance with triumphant nostrils. A tribute to her motherhood from some of Alexis' admirers, she breathed them in luxuriantly.

Now that Alexis had become a personage again, there was no telling what the future might contain. Visions of reconciliation loomed enticingly before her. If he came to-night, and he would surely come (she had worded her letter with guile) she had that to suggest which ought to render him eternally grateful. The hated stumbling block, once removed from his path, he would turn to her again and she would bask not only in the vicarious sunshine of his fame, but in those benign social rays shed by his pinnacle amongst the élite. And it would be she, his mother, who had thrust him there.

Not that she really hated Claire. Poor, dear child, she had been very useful up to the time of the marriage, and even afterwards--for a while! But now she was no longer desirable. The other woman could do so much more for Alexis. Abetted by fortune and prestige, his genius would soar untrammeled. Claire must be forced to see reason. Gently, of course, if possible. But if she refused (Mme. Petrovskey shrugged) drastic measures must be applied.

Besides, she was sick of the very sight of the girl. Heavy-bodied and heavy-eyed, she crept about the rooms like a doomed Madonna. Her idle days seemed to pass in a dread anticipation, as if the horizon were stunted, the whole future cramped into the next few weeks. That her thoughts did not progress beyond the birth of the child, Mme. Petrovskey was almost certain, although a deep-seated joy over Alexis' success shone from the somber eyes, when she read the criticisms in the papers. After a concert, she would sometimes sit for hours, the articles crumpled in ardent hands, only showing animation when Dr. Elliott came around. Then she would dress with unusual care, and covering her clumsy little figure with a heavy coat, sally forth to dinner or the theater with a grateful air, very irritating to a bored mother-in-law. At such times, Mme. Petrovskey suspected Claire of using rouge. For the small face bloomed into unexpected beauty.

That Dr. Elliott found it so, was amusingly apparent to the watchful older woman, whose eyes, more subtle than those of Claire, pierced his armor to the palpitating, defenseless flesh. Decidedly, the man was in love with Claire. Whether this love had been declared was problematical and immaterial. It suited Mme. Petrovskey's purpose, and provided her with a weapon almost invincible. That the weapon was poisoned, contrary to the laws of honorable warfare, troubled her not one whit.

And to-night the stage was set, the scene garnished for the blow. The time itself nicely calculated. To insure her tête-à-tête, Mme. Petrovskey had chosen an evening when she knew that Claire expected to go to the movies with the doctor. She had even taken the precaution to send Ito out. His stolid devotion to the girl might prove a nuisance. And she did not intend to risk any eavesdropping from behind pantry doors.

As the time approached for Alexis to come, her calm, superficially stolid, was agitated to the depths. Beyond a few words, after his recital, this was the first opportunity she had had for an interview, and the very utmost must be gleaned from it. There was no telling when another would be forthcoming; so unfilial had Alexis become. Perhaps when the fear of encountering Claire had been removed, his visits might become more frequent. Of the absurdity of hoping that he ever would live with her again, she was not guilty. When the bird has once flown, the nest soon becomes outgrown. It would not even be desirable. In the dazzling future, Alexis would necessarily reside (her own pompous word) elsewhere.

The weaving of these half-poetic, entirely vulgar dreams filled the woman with anticipatory satisfaction. When the door-bell shrilled, it surprised her. She responded in dignified leisure that belied the turmoil within.

"It's Ito's evening out," she explained rather effusively.

Stiff, very correct, Alexis answered her smile with constraint. As he hung his hat and coat upon the rack, a wave of nausea sickened him; an influx of memories not to be borne. Not for anything in the world, except the veiled promise contained in his mother's letter, would he have entered here again. He followed her into the living room, glancing about him apprehensively.

"You said Claire would not be at home," he articulated thickly.

"And so she isn't!" Mme. Petrovskey plumped herself into a large tapestry chair and motioned him to do likewise.

"She and Dr. Elliott have gone out on one of their little sprees."

Her sprightly manner irritated Alexis unbearably, and he was silent.

"I thought it would be nice for us to be alone. Don't you think so?"

"I have no desire to see Claire, as you know."

"So I imagine, dear boy. But don't let us speak of that now. First I want to congratulate you upon your success. It simply delights me. You're twice as good as ever. More assured, more mature. Your rendering of the Brahm's Concerto was perfection. Lauer was transported by it. He said you were the best pupil he had ever had."

Alexis's eyes lighted momentarily at the mention of his old master.

"He came around to see me afterwards and was--very kind," he said almost eagerly.

"He ought to be pleased! Even Sascha doesn't do him more credit!" she exclaimed with complacence.

But the glow had departed from Alexis' face. He had not come to discuss music, and he wished she would get to the point.

Although she could not always comprehend his moods, his impatience did not escape her now.

"I suppose you are wondering why I wrote you to come to-night?"

"Frankly, yes."

"May I speak plainly?"

"Why not?"

"It has not taken much intuition on my part to know that you would like to divorce Claire."

He avoided the over-eager gaze. His mother's attitude towards Claire had always filled him with distaste. "I think a divorce would be better for us both."

His obvious reluctance made her impatient.

"What have you done about it?" she asked with a return of the imperious manner.

He raised offended brows, but replied quietly enough. "I have applied to Rome for an annulment."

She laughed curtly.

"Do you think there is a chance of its being granted?"

"Perhaps not. But I have stated the facts and hope to get justice."

Her lips curled disdainfully. "There isn't the slightest chance for you, Alexis. Claire is a devoted daughter of the Church, and they won't risk losing her for an agnostic like yourself. If I were you, I shouldn't lay any hopes upon it, but put all my energy into procuring a divorce."

"But Claire refuses to divorce me. It would be easy enough for her, God knows, if she wanted to!"

"On the charge of desertion, I suppose!" A smile played about the tiny mouth.

His anger disdained subterfuge. "On the charge of infidelity."

She shook her head, mandarin-wise. "But that would ruin your career."

"Why should it? People don't go to hear an artist because he's a woolly lamb. Music isn't dependent upon the blue laws. If Puritans were able to interpret it, I know many a Symphony that would have to be discarded."

Her laugh was full of camaraderie. "You are right. But suppose you should want to marry again? The scandal might prove a detriment to the lady."

He looked disconcerted. It had never occurred to him that Anne's reputation might suffer if his freedom came as the result of scandal. It had been abominably careless of him. But why worry since Claire refused to divorce him?

His mother noted his discomfiture with amusement. When she considered that he had sufficiently digested it, she tackled him once again.

"It is you who must do the divorcing," she announced judicially.

"I?" He stared at her in bewilderment. "But that would be impossible. In the first place it would be dastardly. In the second, there are no grounds, as you know."

"Are there not?" Her smile angered him.

"I'm sure I don't know what we are talking about. We are getting nowhere. If you have any communication to make, please do so at once, as I have an engagement."

The baby-blue stare narrowed into a slit. "Wasn't it natural that I should desire to see my own son again?" she asked sweetly.

He looked sulky. "If you are anxious about money, arrangements are being made for both you and Claire, which ought to secure you an ample income. That is, if my strong right arm continues to wield the bow."

"That is generous of you, my son." She waved a gracious hand. A dissatisfied look crept into her eyes. "But since you insist upon being so frank, I may as well tell you that money has nothing to do with my invitation. I asked you to come because I can help you, if not in your career, at least in your happiness."

"My happiness? I don't understand you!"

She continued to smile blandly. "I think I can show you a way out of your marriage."

"How?" His scornful eyes were incredulous.

Mme. Petrovskey smoothed her silken lap, as a cat smoothes its fur. "There is a man in Claire's life, Alexis."

"I don't believe you!"

She nodded ponderously. "She is out with him now."

"Oh, you mean the doctor?" There was comical relief in his voice. "What harm is there in that?"

"Much harm could be construed from it. Besides, the man is in love with her."

Alexis stared. The idea of any one being in love with Claire seemed both preposterous and impertinent.

"What makes you think so?"

"He is here almost every day. They go out together at least one night a week."

"He is probably sorry for her, or lonesome, or both! You're not trying to insinuate there is anything wrong!" The male's hatred of being betrayed, even when it affords him a loophole for escape rang in his voice.

"One must avoid the appearance of evil," she said sanctimoniously.

"Nonsense. What are you driving at? If you don't approve of what they are doing, why do you permit it, as Claire is presumably under your protection?"

"Sometimes it is better to let matters run their course." She fixed her eyes upon him cunningly. A flicker of comprehension twisted his features.

"So you were willing to abet them?" he retorted with contempt. "'Adultery made easy for beginners,' or 'Homely Hints from a Fond Mother-in-law!' Oh, this is detestable! I am going!" He flung his hair out of his eyes and started towards the hall.

"I merely tried to help you," she followed him with ponderous lightness. "You may be sorry that you didn't take advantage of my advice."

He started to put on his coat. "But I don't believe any of this, mother. It is all such utter rot. Claire is incapable of such a thing."

"Perhaps she is, and perhaps she isn't! At any rate, how could she prove her innocence?"

She laid a heavy hand upon Alexis's arm. He shrank away.

"Do you imagine I would ruin an innocent woman? What kind of a man do you think I am?"

She shrugged fat shoulders. "Not if it were avoidable, of course. But how do you know she is innocent? She has had every opportunity to deceive you. A lonely woman will do desperate things, Alexis. Love is a great temptation to a girl like Claire, and half a loaf is better than none!"

"But Claire! I can't imagine Claire being unfaithful. She is the most loyal creature alive."

"She may be loyal, but she is also passionate. You at least should retain some memory of that." The innocent eyes concealed amusement.

He flushed. The memory of Claire's surrenders was like a vague but abject nightmare. Yes, the girl possessed a lurid kind of passivity, a submission as unlike Anne's goddess-like generosity as night from day. Mme. Petrovskey pursued her advantage.

"It remains to be seen which of the two traits is the stronger."

"I believe I know. It would take Claire's own words to convince me to the contrary." But his manner was less ironical, almost receptive.

Mme. Petrovskey took up her theme complacently. "Think it over, Alexis. Don't permit an obstinate girl to ruin your life. You love another woman----"

A dangerous gleam in his eye, he checked her quickly. "We will not speak of that!"

"Very well. Only, as I was going to say before, it is not as if you loved Claire and she could keep you. By clinging stubbornly to you, she is merely ruining her own life as well. I believe Dr. Elliott would marry her if she were free."

A new eagerness flitted over Alexis' face. "If I thought there was a chance of that!"

"She would have to be forced into it, of course. She is as obstinate about her religion as she is weak about you."

"I don't intend to force her! I'm sorry I came. When I received your