langes schmales wohnzimmer einrichten
chapter 14 gerty farish, the morning after thewellington brys' entertainment, woke from dreams as happy as lily's. if they were less vivid in hue, moresubdued to the half-tints of her personality and her experience, they werefor that very reason better suited to her mental vision. such flashes of joy as lily moved in wouldhave blinded miss farish, who was accustomed, in the way of happiness, tosuch scant light as shone through the cracks of other people's lives.
now she was the centre of a littleillumination of her own: a mild but unmistakable beam, compounded of lawrenceselden's growing kindness to herself and the discovery that he extended his likingto lily bart. if these two factors seem incompatible tothe student of feminine psychology, it must be remembered that gerty had always been aparasite in the moral order, living on the crumbs of other tables, and content to look through the window at the banquet spreadfor her friends. now that she was enjoying a little privatefeast of her own, it would have seemed incredibly selfish not to lay a plate for afriend; and there was no one with whom she
would rather have shared her enjoyment thanmiss bart. as to the nature of selden's growingkindness, gerty would no more have dared to define it than she would have tried tolearn a butterfly's colours by knocking the dust from its wings. to seize on the wonder would be to brushoff its bloom, and perhaps see it fade and stiffen in her hand: better the sense ofbeauty palpitating out of reach, while she held her breath and watched where it wouldalight. yet selden's manner at the brys' hadbrought the flutter of wings so close that they seemed to be beating in her own heart.
she had never seen him so alert, soresponsive, so attentive to what she had to say. his habitual manner had an absent-mindedkindliness which she accepted, and was grateful for, as the liveliest sentimenther presence was likely to inspire; but she was quick to feel in him a change implying that for once she could give pleasure aswell as receive it. and it was so delightful that this higherdegree of sympathy should be reached through their interest in lily bart! gerty's affection for her friend--asentiment that had learned to keep itself
alive on the scantiest diet--had grown toactive adoration since lily's restless curiosity had drawn her into the circle ofmiss farish's work. lily's taste of beneficence had wakened inher a momentary appetite for well-doing. her visit to the girls' club had firstbrought her in contact with the dramatic contrasts of life. she had always accepted with philosophiccalm the fact that such existences as hers were pedestalled on foundations of obscurehumanity. the dreary limbo of dinginess lay allaround and beneath that little illuminated circle in which life reached its finestefflorescence, as the mud and sleet of a
winter night enclose a hot-house filledwith tropical flowers. all this was in the natural order ofthings, and the orchid basking in its artificially created atmosphere could roundthe delicate curves of its petals undisturbed by the ice on the panes. but it is one thing to live comfortablywith the abstract conception of poverty, another to be brought in contact with itshuman embodiments. lily had never conceived of these victimsof fate otherwise than in the mass. that the mass was composed of individuallives, innumerable separate centres of sensation, with her own eager reachings forpleasure, her own fierce revulsions from
pain--that some of these bundles of feeling were clothed in shapes not so unlike herown, with eyes meant to look on gladness, and young lips shaped for love--thisdiscovery gave lily one of those sudden shocks of pity that sometimes decentralizea life. lily's nature was incapable of suchrenewal: she could feel other demands only through her own, and no pain was long vividwhich did not press on an answering nerve. but for the moment she was drawn out ofherself by the interest of her direct relation with a world so unlike her own. she had supplemented her first gift bypersonal assistance to one or two of miss
farish's most appealing subjects, and theadmiration and interest her presence excited among the tired workers at the club ministered in a new form to her insatiabledesire to please. gerty farish was not a close enough readerof character to disentangle the mixed threads of which lily's philanthropy waswoven. she supposed her beautiful friend to beactuated by the same motive as herself-- that sharpening of the moral vision whichmakes all human suffering so near and insistent that the other aspects of lifefade into remoteness. gerty lived by such simple formulas thatshe did not hesitate to class her friend's
state with the emotional "change of heart"to which her dealings with the poor had accustomed her; and she rejoiced in the thought that she had been the humbleinstrument of this renewal. now she had an answer to all criticisms oflily's conduct: as she had said, she knew "the real lily," and the discovery thatselden shared her knowledge raised her placid acceptance of life to a dazzled sense of its possibilities--a sense fartherenlarged, in the course of the afternoon, by the receipt of a telegram from seldenasking if he might dine with her that evening.
while gerty was lost in the happy bustlewhich this announcement produced in her small household, selden was at one with herin thinking with intensity of lily bart. the case which had called him to albany wasnot complicated enough to absorb all his attention, and he had the professionalfaculty of keeping a part of his mind free when its services were not needed. this part--which at the moment seemeddangerously like the whole--was filled to the brim with the sensations of theprevious evening. selden understood the symptoms: herecognized the fact that he was paying up, as there had always been a chance of hishaving to pay up, for the voluntary
exclusions of his past. he had meant to keep free from permanentties, not from any poverty of feeling, but because, in a different way, he was, asmuch as lily, the victim of his environment. there had been a germ of truth in hisdeclaration to gerty farish that he had never wanted to marry a "nice" girl: theadjective connoting, in his cousin's vocabulary, certain utilitarian qualities which are apt to preclude the luxury ofcharm. now it had been selden's fate to have acharming mother: her graceful portrait, all
smiles and cashmere, still emitted a fadedscent of the undefinable quality. his father was the kind of man who delightsin a charming woman: who quotes her, stimulates her, and keeps her perenniallycharming. neither one of the couple cared for money,but their disdain of it took the form of always spending a little more than wasprudent. if their house was shabby, it wasexquisitely kept; if there were good books on the shelves there were also good disheson the table. selden senior had an eye for a picture, hiswife an understanding of old lace; and both were so conscious of restraint anddiscrimination in buying that they never
quite knew how it was that the billsmounted up. though many of selden's friends would havecalled his parents poor, he had grown up in an atmosphere where restricted means werefelt only as a check on aimless profusion: where the few possessions were so good that their rarity gave them a merited relief,and abstinence was combined with elegance in a way exemplified by mrs. selden's knackof wearing her old velvet as if it were new. a man has the advantage of being deliveredearly from the home point of view, and before selden left college he had learnedthat there are as many different ways of
going without money as of spending it. unfortunately, he found no way as agreeableas that practised at home; and his views of womankind in especial were tinged by theremembrance of the one woman who had given him his sense of "values." it was from her that he inherited hisdetachment from the sumptuary side of life: the stoic's carelessness of materialthings, combined with the epicurean's pleasure in them. life shorn of either feeling appeared tohim a diminished thing; and nowhere was the blending of the two ingredients soessential as in the character of a pretty
woman. it had always seemed to selden thatexperience offered a great deal besides the sentimental adventure, yet he could vividlyconceive of a love which should broaden and deepen till it became the central fact oflife. what he could not accept, in his own case,was the makeshift alternative of a relation that should be less than this: that shouldleave some portions of his nature unsatisfied, while it put an undue strainon others. he would not, in other words, yield to thegrowth of an affection which might appeal to pity yet leave the understandinguntouched: sympathy should no more delude
him than a trick of the eyes, the grace ofhelplessness than a curve of the cheek. but now--that little but passed like asponge over all his vows. his reasoned-out resistances seemed for themoment so much less important than the question as to when lily would receive hisnote! he yielded himself to the charm of trivialpreoccupations, wondering at what hour her reply would be sent, with what words itwould begin. as to its import he had no doubt--he was assure of her surrender as of his own. and so he had leisure to muse on all itsexquisite details, as a hard worker, on a holiday morning, might lie still and watchthe beam of light travel gradually across
his room. but if the new light dazzled, it did notblind him. he could still discern the outline offacts, though his own relation to them had changed. he was no less conscious than before ofwhat was said of lily bart, but he could separate the woman he knew from the vulgarestimate of her. his mind turned to gerty farish's words,and the wisdom of the world seemed a groping thing beside the insight ofinnocence. blessed are the pure in heart, for theyshall see god--even the hidden god in their
neighbour's breast! selden was in the state of impassionedself-absorption that the first surrender to love produces. his craving was for the companionship ofone whose point of view should justify his own, who should confirm, by deliberateobservation, the truth to which his intuitions had leaped. he could not wait for the midday recess,but seized a moment's leisure in court to scribble his telegram to gerty farish. reaching town, he was driven direct to hisclub, where he hoped a note from miss bart
might await him. but his box contained only a line ofrapturous assent from gerty, and he was turning away disappointed when he washailed by a voice from the smoking room. "hallo, lawrence! dining here?take a bite with me--i've ordered a canvas- back." he discovered trenor, in his day clothes,sitting, with a tall glass at his elbow, behind the folds of a sporting journal.selden thanked him, but pleaded an engagement.
"hang it, i believe every man in town hasan engagement tonight. i shall have the club to myself.you know how i'm living this winter, rattling round in that empty house. my wife meant to come to town today, butshe's put it off again, and how is a fellow to dine alone in a room with the looking-glasses covered, and nothing but a bottle of harvey sauce on the side-board? i say, lawrence, chuck your engagement andtake pity on me--it gives me the blue devils to dine alone, and there's nobodybut that canting ass wetherall in the club."
"sorry, gus--i can't do it." as selden turned away, he noticed the darkflush on trenor's face, the unpleasant moisture of his intensely white forehead,the way his jewelled rings were wedged in the creases of his fat red fingers. certainly the beast was predominating--thebeast at the bottom of the glass. and he had heard this man's name coupledwith lily's! bah--the thought sickened him; all the wayback to his rooms he was haunted by the sight of trenor's fat creased hands----on his table lay the note: lily had sent it to his rooms.
he knew what was in it before he broke theseal--a grey seal with beyond! beneath a flying ship. ah, he would take her beyond--beyond theugliness, the pettiness, the attrition and corrosion of the soul----gerty's little sitting-room sparkled with welcome when selden entered it. its modest "effects," compact of enamelpaint and ingenuity, spoke to him in the language just then sweetest to his ear. it is surprising how little narrow wallsand a low ceiling matter, when the roof of the soul has suddenly been raised.gerty sparkled too; or at least shone with
a tempered radiance. he had never before noticed that she had"points"--really, some good fellow might do worse...over the little dinner (and here,again, the effects were wonderful) he told her she ought to marry--he was in a mood topair off the whole world. she had made the caramel custard with herown hands? it was sinful to keep such gifts toherself. he reflected with a throb of pride thatlily could trim her own hats--she had told him so the day of their walk at bellomont. he did not speak of lily till after dinner.
during the little repast he kept the talkon his hostess, who, fluttered at being the centre of observation, shone as rosy as thecandle-shades she had manufactured for the occasion. selden evinced an extraordinary interest inher household arrangements: complimented her on the ingenuity with which she hadutilized every inch of her small quarters, asked how her servant managed about afternoons out, learned that one mayimprovise delicious dinners in a chafing- dish, and uttered thoughtfulgeneralizations on the burden of a large establishment.
when they were in the sitting-room again,where they fitted as snugly as bits in a puzzle, and she had brewed the coffee, andpoured it into her grandmother's egg-shell cups, his eye, as he leaned back, basking in the warm fragrance, lighted on a recentphotograph of miss bart, and the desired transition was effected without an effort.the photograph was well enough--but to catch her as she had looked last night! gerty agreed with him--never had she beenso radiant. but could photography capture that light? there had been a new look in her face--something different; yes, selden agreed
there had been something different. the coffee was so exquisite that he askedfor a second cup: such a contrast to the watery stuff at the club! ah, your poor bachelor with his impersonalclub fare, alternating with the equally impersonal cuisine of the dinner-party! a man who lived in lodgings missed the bestpart of life--he pictured the flavourless solitude of trenor's repast, and felt amoment's compassion for the man...but to return to lily--and again and again he returned, questioning, conjecturing,leading gerty on, draining her inmost
thoughts of their stored tenderness for herfriend. at first she poured herself outunstintingly, happy in this perfect communion of their sympathies.his understanding of lily helped to confirm her own belief in her friend. they dwelt together on the fact that lilyhad had no chance. gerty instanced her generous impulses--herrestlessness and discontent. the fact that her life had never satisfiedher proved that she was made for better things. she might have married more than once--theconventional rich marriage which she had
been taught to consider the sole end ofexistence--but when the opportunity came she had always shrunk from it. percy gryce, for instance, had been in lovewith her--every one at bellomont had supposed them to be engaged, and herdismissal of him was thought inexplicable. this view of the gryce incident chimed toowell with selden's mood not to be instantly adopted by him, with a flash ofretrospective contempt for what had once seemed the obvious solution. if rejection there had been--and hewondered now that he had ever doubted it!-- then he held the key to the secret, and thehillsides of bellomont were lit up, not
with sunset, but with dawn. it was he who had wavered and disowned theface of opportunity--and the joy now warming his breast might have been afamiliar inmate if he had captured it in its first flight. it was at this point, perhaps, that a joyjust trying its wings in gerty's heart dropped to earth and lay still. she sat facing selden, repeatingmechanically: "no, she has never been understood----" and all the while sheherself seemed to be sitting in the centre of a great glare of comprehension.
the little confidential room, where amoment ago their thoughts had touched elbows like their chairs, grew tounfriendly vastness, separating her from selden by all the length of her new vision of the future--and that future stretchedout interminably, with her lonely figure toiling down it, a mere speck on thesolitude. "she is herself with a few people only; andyou are one of them," she heard selden saying. and again: "be good to her, gerty, won'tyou?" and: "she has it in her to become whatever she is believed to be--you'll helpher by believing the best of her?"
the words beat on gerty's brain like thesound of a language which has seemed familiar at a distance, but on approachingis found to be unintelligible. he had come to talk to her of lily--thatwas all! there had been a third at the feast she hadspread for him, and that third had taken her own place. she tried to follow what he was saying, tocling to her own part in the talk--but it was all as meaningless as the boom of wavesin a drowning head, and she felt, as the drowning may feel, that to sink would be nothing beside the pain of struggling tokeep up.
selden rose, and she drew a deep breath,feeling that soon she could yield to the blessed waves. "mrs. fisher's?you say she was dining there? there's music afterward; i believe i had acard from her." he glanced at the foolish pink-faced clockthat was drumming out this hideous hour. "a quarter past ten?i might look in there now; the fisher evenings are amusing. i haven't kept you up too late, gerty?you look tired--i've rambled on and bored you."
and in the unwonted overflow of hisfeelings, he left a cousinly kiss upon her cheek. at mrs. fisher's, through the cigar-smokeof the studio, a dozen voices greeted selden. a song was pending as he entered, and hedropped into a seat near his hostess, his eyes roaming in search of miss bart. but she was not there, and the discoverygave him a pang out of all proportion to its seriousness; since the note in hisbreast-pocket assured him that at four the next day they would meet.
to his impatience it seemed immeasurablylong to wait, and half-ashamed of the impulse, he leaned to mrs. fisher to ask,as the music ceased, if miss bart had not dined with her. "lily?she's just gone. she had to run off, i forget where.wasn't she wonderful last night?" "who's that? lily?" asked jack stepney, from the depthsof a neighbouring arm-chair. "really, you know, i'm no prude, but whenit comes to a girl standing there as if she was up at auction--i thought seriously ofspeaking to cousin julia."
"you didn't know jack had become our socialcensor?" mrs. fisher said to selden with a laugh;and stepney spluttered, amid the general derision: "but she's a cousin, hang it, andwhen a man's married--town talk was full of her this morning." "yes: lively reading that was," said mr.ned van alstyne, stroking his moustache to hide the smile behind it."buy the dirty sheet? no, of course not; some fellow showed it tome--but i'd heard the stories before. when a girl's as good-looking as that she'dbetter marry; then no questions are asked. in our imperfectly organized society thereis no provision as yet for the young woman
who claims the privileges of marriagewithout assuming its obligations." "well, i understand lily is about to assumethem in the shape of mr. rosedale," mrs. fisher said with a laugh."rosedale--good heavens!" exclaimed van alstyne, dropping his eye-glass. "stepney, that's your fault for foistingthe brute on us." "oh, confound it, you know, we don't marryrosedale in our family," stepney languidly protested; but his wife, who sat inoppressive bridal finery at the other side of the room, quelled him with the judicial reflection: "in lily's circumstances it's amistake to have too high a standard."
"i hear even rosedale has been scared bythe talk lately," mrs. fisher rejoined; "but the sight of her last night sent himoff his head. what do you think he said to me after hertableau? 'my god, mrs. fisher, if i could get paulmorpeth to paint her like that, the picture'd appreciate a hundred per cent inten years.'" "by jove,--but isn't she about somewhere?"exclaimed van alstyne, restoring his glass with an uneasy glance."no; she ran off while you were all mixing the punch down stairs. where was she going, by the way?what's on tonight?
i hadn't heard of anything." "oh, not a party, i think," said aninexperienced young farish who had arrived late. "i put her in her cab as i was coming in,and she gave the driver the trenors' address.""the trenors'?" exclaimed mrs. jack stepney. "why, the house is closed--judy telephonedme from bellomont this evening." "did she?that's queer. i'm sure i'm not mistaken.
well, come now, trenor's there, anyhow--i--oh, well--the fact is, i've no head for numbers," he broke off, admonished by thenudge of an adjoining foot, and the smile that circled the room. in its unpleasant light selden had risenand was shaking hands with his hostess. the air of the place stifled him, and hewondered why he had stayed in it so long. on the doorstep he stood still, rememberinga phrase of lily's: "it seems to me you spend a good deal of time in the elementyou disapprove of." well--what had brought him there but thequest of her? it was her element, not his.but he would lift her out of it, take her
beyond! that beyond! on her letter was like a cryfor rescue. he knew that perseus's task is not donewhen he has loosed andromeda's chains, for her limbs are numb with bondage, and shecannot rise and walk, but clings to him with dragging arms as he beats back to landwith his burden. well, he had strength for both--it was herweakness which had put the strength in him. it was not, alas, a clean rush of wavesthey had to win through, but a clogging morass of old associations and habits, andfor the moment its vapours were in his throat.
but he would see clearer, breathe freer inher presence: she was at once the dead weight at his breast and the spar whichshould float them to safety. he smiled at the whirl of metaphor withwhich he was trying to build up a defence against the influences of the last hour. it was pitiable that he, who knew the mixedmotives on which social judgments depend, should still feel himself so swayed bythem. how could he lift lily to a freer vision oflife, if his own view of her was to be coloured by any mind in which he saw herreflected? the moral oppression had produced aphysical craving for air, and he strode on,
opening his lungs to the reverberatingcoldness of the night. at the corner of fifth avenue van alstynehailed him with an offer of company. "walking?a good thing to blow the smoke out of one's head. now that women have taken to tobacco welive in a bath of nicotine. it would be a curious thing to study theeffect of cigarettes on the relation of the sexes. smoke is almost as great a solvent asdivorce: both tend to obscure the moral issue."
nothing could have been less consonant withselden's mood than van alstyne's after- dinner aphorisms, but as long as the latterconfined himself to generalities his listener's nerves were in control. happily van alstyne prided himself on hissumming up of social aspects, and with selden for audience was eager to show thesureness of his touch. mrs. fisher lived in an east side streetnear the park, and as the two men walked down fifth avenue the new architecturaldevelopments of that versatile thoroughfare invited van alstyne's comment. "that greiner house, now--a typical rung inthe social ladder!
the man who built it came from a milieuwhere all the dishes are put on the table at once. his facade is a complete architecturalmeal; if he had omitted a style his friends might have thought the money had given out. not a bad purchase for rosedale, though:attracts attention, and awes the western sight-seer. by and bye he'll get out of that phase, andwant something that the crowd will pass and the few pause before.especially if he marries my clever cousin-- --"
selden dashed in with the query: "and thewellington brys'? rather clever of its kind, don't youthink?" they were just beneath the wide whitefacade, with its rich restraint of line, which suggested the clever corseting of aredundant figure. "that's the next stage: the desire to implythat one has been to europe, and has a standard. i'm sure mrs. bry thinks her house a copyof the trianon; in america every marble house with gilt furniture is thought to bea copy of the trianon. what a clever chap that architect is,though--how he takes his client's measure!
he has put the whole of mrs. bry in his useof the composite order. now for the trenors, you remember, he chosethe corinthian: exuberant, but based on the best precedent. the trenor house is one of his best things--doesn't look like a banqueting-hall turned inside out. i hear mrs. trenor wants to build out a newball-room, and that divergence from gus on that point keeps her at bellomont. the dimensions of the brys' ball-room mustrankle: you may be sure she knows 'em as well as if she'd been there last night witha yard-measure.
who said she was in town, by the way? that farish boy?she isn't, i know; mrs. stepney was right; the house is dark, you see: i suppose guslives in the back." he had halted opposite the trenors' corner,and selden perforce stayed his steps also. the house loomed obscure and uninhabited;only an oblong gleam above the door spoke of provisional occupancy. "they've bought the house at the back: itgives them a hundred and fifty feet in the side street. there's where the ball-room's to be, with agallery connecting it: billiard-room and so
on above. i suggested changing the entrance, andcarrying the drawing-room across the whole fifth avenue front; you see the front doorcorresponds with the windows----" the walking-stick which van alstyne swungin demonstration dropped to a startled "hallo!" as the door opened and two figureswere seen silhouetted against the hall- light. at the same moment a hansom halted at thecurb-stone, and one of the figures floated down to it in a haze of evening draperies;while the other, black and bulky, remained persistently projected against the light.
for an immeasurable second the twospectators of the incident were silent; then the house-door closed, the hansomrolled off, and the whole scene slipped by as if with the turn of a stereopticon. van alstyne dropped his eye-glass with alow whistle. "a--hem--nothing of this, eh, selden? as one of the family, i know i may count onyou--appearances are deceptive--and fifth avenue is so imperfectly lighted----" "goodnight," said selden, turning sharplydown the side street without seeing the other's extended hand.alone with her cousin's kiss, gerty stared
upon her thoughts. he had kissed her before--but not withanother woman on his lips. if he had spared her that she could havedrowned quietly, welcoming the dark flood as it submerged her. but now the flood was shot through withglory, and it was harder to drown at sunrise than in darkness.gerty hid her face from the light, but it pierced to the crannies of her soul. she had been so contented, life had seemedso simple and sufficient--why had he come to trouble her with new hopes?and lily--lily, her best friend!
woman-like, she accused the woman. perhaps, had it not been for lily, her fondimagining might have become truth. selden had always liked her--had understoodand sympathized with the modest independence of her life. he, who had the reputation of weighing allthings in the nice balance of fastidious perceptions, had been uncritical and simplein his view of her: his cleverness had never overawed her because she had felt athome in his heart. and now she was thrust out, and the doorbarred against her by lily's hand! lily, for whose admission there she herselfhad pleaded!
the situation was lighted up by a drearyflash of irony. she knew selden--she saw how the force ofher faith in lily must have helped to dispel his hesitations. she remembered, too, how lily had talked ofhim--she saw herself bringing the two together, making them known to each other. on selden's part, no doubt, the woundinflicted was inconscient; he had never guessed her foolish secret; but lily--lilymust have known! when, in such matters, are a woman'sperceptions at fault? and if she knew, then she had deliberatelydespoiled her friend, and in mere
wantonness of power, since, even to gerty'ssuddenly flaming jealousy, it seemed incredible that lily should wish to beselden's wife. lily might be incapable of marrying formoney, but she was equally incapable of living without it, and selden's eagerinvestigations into the small economies of house-keeping made him appear to gerty astragically duped as herself. she remained long in her sitting-room,where the embers were crumbling to cold grey, and the lamp paled under its gayshade. just beneath it stood the photograph oflily bart, looking out imperially on the cheap gimcracks, the cramped furniture ofthe little room.
could selden picture her in such aninterior? gerty felt the poverty, the insignificanceof her surroundings: she beheld her life as it must appear to lily. and the cruelty of lily's judgments smoteupon her memory. she saw that she had dressed her idol withattributes of her own making. when had lily ever really felt, or pitied,or understood? all she wanted was the taste of newexperiences: she seemed like some cruel creature experimenting in a laboratory. the pink-faced clock drummed out anotherhour, and gerty rose with a start.
she had an appointment early the nextmorning with a district visitor on the east side. she put out her lamp, covered the fire, andwent into her bedroom to undress. in the little glass above her dressing-table she saw her face reflected against the shadows of the room, and tears blottedthe reflection. what right had she to dream the dreams ofloveliness? a dull face invited a dull fate. she cried quietly as she undressed, layingaside her clothes with her habitual precision, setting everything in order forthe next day, when the old life must be
taken up as though there had been no breakin its routine. her servant did not come till eighto'clock, and she prepared her own tea-tray and placed it beside the bed. then she locked the door of the flat,extinguished her light and lay down. but on her bed sleep would not come, andshe lay face to face with the fact that she hated lily bart. it closed with her in the darkness likesome formless evil to be blindly grappled with. reason, judgment, renunciation, all thesane daylight forces, were beaten back in
the sharp struggle for self-preservation. she wanted happiness--wanted it as fiercelyand unscrupulously as lily did, but without lily's power of obtaining it.and in her conscious impotence she lay shivering, and hated her friend---- a ring at the door-bell caught her to herfeet. she struck a light and stood startled,listening. for a moment her heart beat incoherently,then she felt the sobering touch of fact, and remembered that such calls were notunknown in her charitable work. she flung on her dressing-gown to answerthe summons, and unlocking her door,
confronted the shining vision of lily bart.gerty's first movement was one of revulsion. she shrank back as though lily's presenceflashed too sudden a light upon her misery. then she heard her name in a cry, had aglimpse of her friend's face, and felt herself caught and clung to. "lily--what is it?" she exclaimed.miss bart released her, and stood breathing brokenly, like one who has gained shelterafter a long flight. "i was so cold--i couldn't go home. have you a fire?"gerty's compassionate instincts, responding
to the swift call of habit, swept aside allher reluctances. lily was simply some one who needed help--for what reason, there was no time to pause and conjecture: disciplined sympathychecked the wonder on gerty's lips, and made her draw her friend silently into the sitting-room and seat her by the darkenedhearth. "there is kindling wood here: the fire willburn in a minute." she knelt down, and the flame leapt underher rapid hands. it flashed strangely through the tearswhich still blurred her eyes, and smote on the white ruin of lily's face.
the girls looked at each other in silence;then lily repeated: "i couldn't go home." "no--no--you came here, dear!you're cold and tired--sit quiet, and i'll make you some tea." gerty had unconsciously adopted thesoothing note of her trade: all personal feeling was merged in the sense ofministry, and experience had taught her that the bleeding must be stayed before thewound is probed. lily sat quiet, leaning to the fire: theclatter of cups behind her soothed her as familiar noises hush a child whom silencehas kept wakeful. but when gerty stood at her side with thetea she pushed it away, and turned an
estranged eye on the familiar room."i came here because i couldn't bear to be alone," she said. gerty set down the cup and knelt besideher. "lily!something has happened--can't you tell me?" "i couldn't bear to lie awake in my roomtill morning. i hate my room at aunt julia's--so i camehere----" she stirred suddenly, broke from herapathy, and clung to gerty in a fresh burst of fear. "oh, gerty, the furies...you know the noiseof their wings--alone, at night, in the
dark?but you don't know--there is nothing to make the dark dreadful to you----" the words, flashing back on gerty's lasthours, struck from her a faint derisive murmur; but lily, in the blaze of her ownmisery, was blinded to everything outside it. "you'll let me stay?i shan't mind when daylight comes--is it late?is the night nearly over? it must be awful to be sleepless--everything stands by the bed and stares---- "miss farish caught her straying hands.
"lily, look at me! something has happened--an accident?you have been frightened--what has frightened you?tell me if you can--a word or two--so that i can help you." lily shook her head."i am not frightened: that's not the word. can you imagine looking into your glasssome morning and seeing a disfigurement-- some hideous change that has come to youwhile you slept? well, i seem to myself like that--i can'tbear to see myself in my own thoughts--i hate ugliness, you know--i've always turnedfrom it--but i can't explain to you--you
wouldn't understand." she lifted her head and her eyes fell onthe clock. "how long the night is!and i know i shan't sleep tomorrow. some one told me my father used to liesleepless and think of horrors. and he was not wicked, only unfortunate--and i see now how he must have suffered, lying alone with his thoughts! but i am bad--a bad girl--all my thoughtsare bad--i have always had bad people about me.is that any excuse? i thought i could manage my own life--i wasproud--proud! but now i'm on their level---
-"sobs shook her, and she bowed to them like a tree in a dry storm. gerty knelt beside her, waiting, with thepatience born of experience, till this gust of misery should loosen fresh speech. she had first imagined some physical shock,some peril of the crowded streets, since lily was presumably on her way home fromcarry fisher's; but she now saw that other nerve-centres were smitten, and her mindtrembled back from conjecture. lily's sobs ceased, and she lifted herhead. "there are bad girls in your slums.
tell me--do they ever pick themselves up?ever forget, and feel as they did before?" "lily! you mustn't speak so--you'redreaming." "don't they always go from bad to worse? there's no turning back--your old selfrejects you, and shuts you out." she rose, stretching her arms as if inutter physical weariness. "go to bed, dear! you work hard and get up early.i'll watch here by the fire, and you'll leave the light, and your door open.all i want is to feel that you are near me."
she laid both hands on gerty's shoulders,with a smile that was like sunrise on a sea strewn with wreckage."i can't leave you, lily. come and lie on my bed. your hands are frozen--you must undress andbe made warm." gerty paused with sudden compunction."but mrs. peniston--it's past midnight! what will she think?" "she goes to bed.i have a latch-key. it doesn't matter--i can't go back there.""there's no need to: you shall stay here. but you must tell me where you have been.
listen, lily--it will help you to speak!"she regained miss bart's hands, and pressed them against her."try to tell me--it will clear your poor listen--you were dining at carry fisher's."gerty paused and added with a flash of heroism: "lawrence selden went from here tofind you." at the word, lily's face melted from lockedanguish to the open misery of a child. her lips trembled and her gaze widened withtears. "he went to find me? and i missed him!oh, gerty, he tried to help me. he told me--he warned me long ago--heforesaw that i should grow hateful to
myself!" the name, as gerty saw with a clutch at theheart, had loosened the springs of self- pity in her friend's dry breast, and tearby tear lily poured out the measure of her anguish. she had dropped sideways in gerty's bigarm-chair, her head buried where lately selden's had leaned, in a beauty ofabandonment that drove home to gerty's aching senses the inevitableness of her owndefeat. ah, it needed no deliberate purpose onlily's part to rob her of her dream! to look on that prone loveliness was to seein it a natural force, to recognize that
love and power belong to such as lily, asrenunciation and service are the lot of those they despoil. but if selden's infatuation seemed a fatalnecessity, the effect that his name produced shook gerty's steadfastness with alast pang. men pass through such superhuman loves andoutlive them: they are the probation subduing the heart to human joys. how gladly gerty would have welcomed theministry of healing: how willingly have soothed the sufferer back to tolerance oflife! but lily's self-betrayal took this lasthope from her.
the mortal maid on the shore is helplessagainst the siren who loves her prey: such victims are floated back dead from theiradventure. lily sprang up and caught her with stronghands. "gerty, you know him--you understand him--tell me; if i went to him, if i told him everything--if i said: 'i am bad throughand through--i want admiration, i want excitement, i want money--' yes, money! that's my shame, gerty--and it's known,it's said of me--it's what men think of me- -if i said it all to him--told him thewhole story--said plainly: 'i've sunk lower than the lowest, for i've taken what they
take, and not paid as they pay'--oh, gerty,you know him, you can speak for him: if i told him everything would he loathe me?or would he pity me, and understand me, and save me from loathing myself?" gerty stood cold and passive.she knew the hour of her probation had come, and her poor heart beat wildlyagainst its destiny. as a dark river sweeps by under a lightningflash, she saw her chance of happiness surge past under a flash of temptation.what prevented her from saying: "he is like other men?" she was not so sure of him, after all!but to do so would have been like
blaspheming her love. she could not put him before herself in anylight but the noblest: she must trust him to the height of her own passion. "yes: i know him; he will help you," shesaid; and in a moment lily's passion was weeping itself out against her breast. there was but one bed in the little flat,and the two girls lay down on it side by side when gerty had unlaced lily's dressand persuaded her to put her lips to the warm tea. the light extinguished, they lay still inthe darkness, gerty shrinking to the outer
edge of the narrow couch to avoid contactwith her bed-fellow. knowing that lily disliked to be caressed,she had long ago learned to check her demonstrative impulses toward her friend. but tonight every fibre in her body shrankfrom lily's nearness: it was torture to listen to her breathing, and feel the sheetstir with it. as lily turned, and settled to completerrest, a strand of her hair swept gerty's cheek with its fragrance. everything about her was warm and soft andscented: even the stains of her grief became her as rain-drops do the beatenrose.
but as gerty lay with arms drawn down herside, in the motionless narrowness of an effigy, she felt a stir of sobs from thebreathing warmth beside her, and lily flung out her hand, groped for her friend's, andheld it fast. "hold me, gerty, hold me, or i shall thinkof things," she moaned; and gerty silently slipped an arm under her, pillowing herhead in its hollow as a mother makes a nest for a tossing child. in the warm hollow lily lay still and herbreathing grew low and regular. her hand still clung to gerty's as if toward off evil dreams, but the hold of her fingers relaxed, her head sank deeper intoits shelter, and gerty felt that she slept.
