the price she paid-第17节

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he　thing　from　all　sides。　　Especially；　I'd　look　at　it　from　HIS　standpoint。''

Mildred；　somewhat　quieter；　but　still　mocking；　said：　‘‘If　I　should　decide　to　quit；　would　my　expenses　be　paid　back　to　where　I　was　engaged？　　I　fancy　not。''

Harding　looked　grave。　　‘‘If　you　had　had　money　enough　to　pay　your　own　expenses　about；　would　you　have　married　him？''　said　he。　　‘‘Isn't　he　payingpaying　liberally；　Mrs。　Siddallfor　ALL　he　gets？''

Mildred；　stung；　drew　herself　up　haughtily；　gave　him　a　look　that　reminded　him　who　she　was　and　who　he　was。　But　Harding　was　not　impressed。

‘‘You　said　a　moment　agotrulythat　we　are　all　in　the　same　boat；''　observed　he。　　‘‘I　put　those　questions　to　you　because　I　honestly　wish　to　help　youbecause　I　wish　you　not　to　act　foolishly；　hastily。''

‘‘Thank　you；　Mr。　Harding；''　said　Mildred　coldly。　And　with　a　slight　nod　she　went；　angry　and　ashamed　that　she　had　so　unaccountably　opened　up　her　secret　soul；　bared　its　ugly　wounds；　before　a　man　she　knew　so　slightly；　a　man　in　a　position　but　one　remove　from　menial。　　However；　she　took　his　advicenot　as　to　trying　to　view　the　matter　from　all　sides；　for　she　was　convinced　that　there　was　only　the　one　side；　but　as　to　calming　herself　by　a　long　drive　alone　in　the　woods　and　along　quiet　roads。　　When　she　returned　she　was　under　control　once　more。

She　found　the　general　impatiently　awaiting　her。　Many　packages　had　comefrom　the　jewelers；　from　the　furriers；　from　a　shop　whose　specialty　was　the　thinnest　and　most　delicate　of　hand…made　underwear。　　The　general　loved　to　open　and　inspect　finery　for　her　loved　it　more　than　he　loved　inspecting　finery　for　himself；　because　feminine　finery　was　far　more　attractive　than　masculine。　　To　whet　his　pleasure　to　the　keenest　she　must　be　there　to　admire　with　him；　to　try　on；　to　exhibit。　　As　she　entered　the　salon　where　the　little　man　was　fussing　about　among　the　packages；　their　glances　met。　　She　saw　that　Harding　had　told　himat　least　in　discreet　outlineof　their　conversation。　　She　also　saw　that　if　she　reopened　the　subject　she　would　find　herself　straightway　whirled　out　upon　a　stormy　sea　of　danger　that　might　easily　overwhelm　her　flimsy　boat。　　She　silently　and　sullenly　dropped　into　her　place；　she　ministered　to　the　general's　pleasure　in　packages　of　finery。　But　she　did　not　exclaim；　or　admire；　or　respond　in　any　way。　　The　honeymoon　was　over。　　Her　dream　of　wifehood　was　dissipated。

She　understood　now　the　look　she　so　often　had　seen　on　the　faces　of　rich　men's　poor　wives　driving　in　state　in　Fifth　Avenue。　　That　night；　as　she　inspected　herself　in　the　glass　while　the　general's　maid　for　her　brushed　her　long　thick　hair；　she　saw　the　beginnings　of　that　look　in　her　own　face。　　‘‘I　don't　know　just　what　I　am；''　she　said　to　herself。　　‘‘But　I　do　know　what　I　am　not。　　I　am　not　a　wife。''

She　sent　away　the　maid；　and　sat　there　in　the　dressing…　room　before　the　mirror；　waiting；　her　glance　traveling　about　and　noting　the　profuse　and　prodigal　luxury。　　In　the　corner　stood　a　circular　rack　loaded　with　dressing…　gownsmore　than　a　score　of　exquisite　combinations　of　silk　and　lace　or　silk　and　chiffon。　　It　so　happened　that　there　was　nowhere　in　sight　a　single　article　of　her　apparel　or　for　her　toilet　that　was　not　bought　with　the　general's　money。　　No；　there　were　some　hairpins　that　she　had　paid　for　herself；　and　a　comb　with　widely　separated　teeth　that　she　had　chanced　to　see　in　a　window　when　she　was　alone　one　day。　　Anything　else？　Yes；　a　two…franc　box　of　pins。　　And　that　was　all。　Everything　else　belonged　to　the　general。　　In　the　closets；　in　the　trunksall　the　general's；　part　of　the　trousseau　he　had　paid　for。　　Not　an　undergarment；　not　an　outer　garment；　not　a　hat　or　a　pair　of　shoes；　not　a　wrap；　not　a　pair　of　gloves。　　All；　the　general's。

He　was　in　the　door　of　the　dressing…roomthe　small　wiry　figure　in　rose…silk　pajamas。　　The　mustache　and　imperial　were　carefully　waxed　as　always；　day　and　night。　On　the　little　feet　were　high…heeled　slippers。　　On　the　head　was　a　rose…silk　Neapolitan　nightcap　with　gay　tassel。　The　nightcap　hid　the　bald　spot　from　which　the　lofty　toupee　had　been　removed。　　A　grotesque　little　figure；　but　not　grotesque　to　her。　　Through　the　mask　of　the　vain；　boastful　little　face　she　saw　the　general　watching　her；　as　she　had　seen　him　that　afternoon　when　she　came　inthe　mysterious　and　terrible　personality　that　had　made　the　vast　fortune；　that　had　ridden　ruthlessly　over　friend　and　foe；　over　man　and　woman　and　childto　the　goal　of　its　desires。

‘‘It's　late；　my　dear？''　said　the　little　man。　　‘‘Come　to　bed。''

She　rose　to　obeyshe　in　the　general's　purchases　of　filmy　nightgown　under　a　pale…pink　silk　dressing…gown。

He　smiled　with　that　curious　noiseless　mumbling　and　smacking　of　the　thin　lips。　　She　sat　down　again。

‘‘Don't　keep　me　waiting。　　It's　chilly；''　he　said；　advancing　toward　her。

‘‘I　shall　sleep　in　here　to…nighton　the　couch；''　said　she。　　She　was　trembling　with　fright　at　her　own　audacity。　She　could　see　a　fifty…centime　piece　and　a　copper　dancing　before　her　eyes。　　She　felt　horribly　alone　and　weak；　but　she　had　no　desire　to　retract　the　words　with　which　she　had　thrown　down　the　gauntlet。

The　little　general　halted。　　The　mask　dropped；　the　man；　the　monster；　looked　at　her。　　‘‘What's　the　matter？''　said　he　in　an　ominously　quiet　voice。

‘‘Mr。　Harding　delivered　your　message　to…day；''　said　she；　and　her　steady　voice　astonished　her。　　‘‘So　I　am　going　back　home。''

He　waited；　looking　steadily　at　her。

‘‘After　he　told　me　and　I　thought　about　it；　I　decided　to　submit；　but　just　now　I　saw　that　I　couldn't。　　I　don't　know　what　possesses　me。　　I　don't　know　what　I'm　going　to　do；　or　how　I'm　going　to　do　it。　　But　it's　all　over　between　us。''　　She　said　this　rapidly；　fluently；　in　a　decisive　way；　quite　foreign　to　her　character　as　she　had　thought　it。

‘‘You　are　coming　to　bed；　where　you　belong；''　said　he　quietly。

‘‘No；''　replied　she；　pressing　herself　against　her　chair　as　if　force　were　being　used　to　drag　her　from　it。　　She　cast　about　for　something　that　would　make　yielding　impossible。　　‘‘You　arerepulsive　to　me。''

He　looked　at　her　without　change　of　countenance。　Said　he：　　‘‘Come　to　bed。　　I　ask　you　for　the　last　time。''

There　was　no　anger　in　his　voice；　no　menace　either　open　or　covert；　simply　finalitythe　last　word　of　the　man　who　had　made　himself　feared　and　secure　in　the　mining…camps　where　the　equation　of　personal　courage　is　straightway　applied　to　every　situation。　　Mildred　shivered。　　She　longed　to　yield；　to　stammer　out　some　excuse　and　obey　him。　　But　she　could　not；　nor　was　she　able　to　rise　from　her　chair。　　She　saw　in　his　hard　eyes　a　look　of　astonishment；　of　curiosity　as　to　this　unaccountable　defiance　in　one　who　had　seemed　docile；　who　had　apparently　no　alternative　but　obedience。　　He　was　not　so　astonished　at　her　as　she　was　at　herself。　　‘‘What　is　to　become　of　me？''　her　terror…stricken　soul　was　crying。　‘‘I　must　do　as　he　saysI　mustyet　I　cannot！''　And　she　looked　at　him　and　sat　motionless。

He　turned　away；　moved　slowly　toward　the　door；　halted　at　the　threshold　to　give　her　time；　was　gone。　　A　fit　of　trembling　seized　her；　she　leaned　forward　and　rested　her　arms　upon　the　dressing…table　or　she　would　have　fallen　from　the　chair　to　the　floor。　　Yet；　even　as　her　fear　made　her　sick　and　weak；　she　knew　that　she　would　not　yield。

The　cold　drove　her　to　the　couch；　to　lie　under　half　a　dozen　of　the　dressing…gowns　and　presently　to　fall　into　a　sleep　of　exhaustion。　　When　she　awoke　after　what　she　thought　was　a　few　minutes　of　unconsciousness；　the　clamor　of　traffic　in　the　Rue　de　Rivoli　startled　her。　　She　started　up；　glanced　at　the　clock　on　the　chimneypiece。　It　was　ten　minutes　past　nine！　　When；　by　all　the　rules　governing　the　action　of　the　nerves；　she　ought　to　have　passed　a　wakeful　night　she　had　overslept　more　than　an　hour。　　Indeed；　she　had　had　the　first　sound　and　prolonged　sleep　that　had　come　to　her　since　the　honeymoon　began；　for　until　then　she　had　slept　alone　all　her　life　and　the　new　order　had　almost　given　her　chronic　insomnia。　She　rang　for　her　maid　and　began　to　dress。　　The　maid　did　not　come。　　She　rang　again　and　again；　apparently　the　bell　was　broken。　　She　finished　dressing　and　went　out　into　the　huge；　grandly　and　gaudily　furnished　salon。　　Harding　was　at　a　carved　old…gold　and　lacquer　desk；　writing。　　As　she　entered　he　rose　and　bowed。

‘‘Won't　you　please　call　one　of　the　servants？''　said　she。　　‘‘I　want　my　coffee。　　I　guess　the　bell　in　my　room　is　broken。　　My　maid　doesn't　answer。''

‘‘No；　the　bell　is　not　broken；''　said　Harding。

She　looked　at　him　questioningly。

‘‘The　general　has　issued　an　order　that　nothing　is　to　be　done　in　this　apartment；　and　nothing　served；　unless　he　personally　authorizes　it。''

Mildred　paled；　drew　herself　up　in　what　seemed　a　gesture　of　haughtiness　but　was　an　effort　to　muster　her　strength。　　To　save　herself　from　the　humiliation　of　a　breakdown　before　him；　she　hastily　retreated　by　the　way　she　had　come。　　After　perhaps　a　quarter　of　an　hour　she　reappeared　in　the　salon；　she　was　now　dressed　for　the　street。　　Harding　looked　up　from　his　writing；　rose　and　bowed　gravely。　　Said　she：

‘‘I　am　going　out　for　a　walk。　　I'll　be　back　in　an　hour　or　so。''

‘‘One　moment；''　said　Harding；　halting　her　as　she　was　opening　the　door　into　the　public　hall。　　‘‘The　general　has　issued　an　order　that　if　you　go　out；　you　are　not　to　be　allowed　to　return。''

Her　hand　fell　from　the　knob。　　With　flashing