the conflict-第20部分

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They　were　nearing　Martha's　gates。　　Jane　said：　　‘‘Yes；　Davy；　you've　got　a　good　chance。　　And　as　soon　as　she　gets　used　to　our　way　of　living；　she'll　make　you　a　good　wife。''　　She　laughed　gayly。

‘‘She'll　not　be　quite　so　pretty　when　she　settles　down　and　takes　on　flesh。　　I　wonder　how　she'll　look　in　fine　clothes　and　jewels。''

She　measured　Hull's　stature　with　a　critical　eye。　　‘‘She's　only　about　half　as　tall　as　you。　　How　funny　you'll　look　together！''　　With　sudden　soberness　and　sweetness；　‘‘But；　seriously；　David；　I'm　proud　of　your　courage　in　taking　a　girl　for　herself　regardless　of　her　surroundings。　　So　few　men　would　be　willing　to　face　the　ridicule　and　the　criticism；　and　all　the　social　difficulties。''　　She　nodded　encouragingly。　　‘‘Go　in　and　win！　　You　can　count　on　my　friendshipfor　I'm　in　love　with　her　myself。''

She　left　him　standing　dazedly；　looking　up　and　down　the　street　as　if　it　were　some　strange　and　pine…beset　highway　in　a　foreign　land。

After　taking　a　few　steps　she　returned　to　the　gates　and　called　him：　　‘‘I　forgot　to　ask　do　you　want　me　to　regard　what　you've　told　me　as　confidential？　　I　was　thinking　of　telling　Martha　and　Hugo；　and　it　occurred　to　me　that　you　might　not　like　it。''

‘‘Please　don't　say　anything　about　it；''　said　he　with　panicky　eagerness。　　‘‘You　seenothing's　settled　yet。''

‘‘Oh；　she'll　accept　you。''

‘‘But　I　haven't　even　asked　her；''　pleaded　Hull。

‘‘Ohall　rightas　you　please。''

When　she　was　safely　within　doors　she　dropped　to　a　chair　and　burst　out　laughing。　　It　was　part　of　Jane's　passion　for　the　sense　of　triumph　over　the　male　sex　to　felt　that　she　had　made　a　‘‘perfect　jumping　jack　of　a　fool''　of　David　Hull。　　‘‘And　I　rather　think；''　said　she　to　herself；　‘‘that　he'll　soon　be　back　where　he　belongs。''　　This　with　a　glance　at　the　tall　heels　of　the　slippers　on　the　good…looking　feet　she　was　thrusting　out　for　her　own　inspection。　　‘‘How　absurd　for　him　to　imagine　he　could　do　anything　unconventional。　　Is　there　any　coward　anywhere　so　cowardly　as　an　American　conventional　man？　　No　wonder　I　hate　to　think　of　marrying　one　of　them。　　ButI　suppose　I'll　have　to　do　it　some　day。　　What's　a　woman　to　do？　　She's　GOT　to　marry。''

So　pleased　with　herself　was　she　that　she　behaved　with　unusual　forbearance　toward　Martha　whose　conduct　of　late　had　been　most　trying。　　Not　Martha's　sometimes　peevish；　sometimes　plaintive　criticisms　of　her；　these　she　did　not　mind。　　But　Martha's　way　of　ordering　her　own　life。　　Jane；　moving　about　in　the　world　with　a　good　mind　eager　to　improve；　had　got　a　horror　of　a　woman's　going　to　piecesand　that　was　what　Martha　was　doing。

‘‘I'm　losing　my　looks　rapidly；''　was　her　constant　complaint。　　As　she　had　just　passed　thirty　there　was；　in　Jane's　opinion；　not　the　smallest　excuse　for　this。　　The　remedy；　the　preventive；　was　obviousdiet　and　exercise。　　But　Martha；　being　lazy　and　self…indulgent　and　not　imaginative　enough　to　foresee　to　what　a　pass　a　few　years　more　of　lounging　and　stuffing　would　bring　her；　regarded　exercise　as　unladylike　and　dieting　as　unhealthful。　　She　would　not　weaken　her　system　by　taking　less　than　was　demanded　by　‘‘nature's　infallible　guide；　the　healthy　appetite。''　　She　would　not　give　up　the　venerable　and　aristocratic　tradition　that　a　lady　should　ever　be　reposeful。

‘‘Another　year　or　so；''　warned　Jane；　‘‘and　you'll　be　as　steatopygous　as　the　bride　of　a　Hottentot　chief。''

‘‘What　does　steatthat　word　mean？''　said　Martha　suspiciously。

‘‘Look　in　the　dictionary；''　said　Jane。　　‘‘Its　synonyms　aren't　used　by　refined　people。''

‘‘I　knew　it　was　something　insulting；''　said　Martha　with　an　injured　sniff。

The　only　concessions　Martha　would　make　to　the　latter…day　craze　of　women　for　youthfulness　were　buying　a　foolish　chin…strap　of　a　beauty　quack　and　consulting　him　as　to　whether；　if　her　hair　continued　to　gray；　she　would　better　take　to　peroxide　or　to　henna。

Jane　had　come　down　that　day　with　a　severe　lecture　on　fat　and　wrinkles　laid　out　in　her　mind　for　energetic　delivery　to　the　fast…seeding　Martha。　　She　put　off　the　lecture　and　allowed　the　time　to　be　used　by　Martha　in　telling　Jane　what　were　her　（Jane's）　strongest　and　less　strongnot　weaker　but　less　strong；　points　of　physical　charm。

It　was　cool　and　beautiful　in　the　shade　of　the　big　gardens　behind　the　old　Galland　house。　　Jane；　listening　to　Martha's　honest　and　just　compliments　and　to　the　faint　murmurs　of　the　city's　dusty；　sweaty　toil；　had　a　delicious　sense　of　the　superiority　of　her　lota　feeling　that　somehow　there　must　be　something　in　the　theory　of　rightfully　superior　and　inferior　classesthat　in　taking　what　she　had　not　earned　she　was　not　robbing　those　who　had　earned　it；　as　her　reason　so　often　asserted；　but　was　being　supported　by　the　toil　of　others　for　high　purposes　of　aesthetic　beauty。　　Anyhow；　why　heat　one's　self　wrestling　with　these　problems？

When　she　was　sure　that　Victor　Dorn　must　have　returned　she　called　him　on　the　telephone。　　‘‘Can't　you　come　out　to　see　me　to…night？''　said　she。　　‘‘I've　something　importantsomething　YOU'LL　think　important　to　consult　you　about。''　　She　felt　a　refusal　forming　at　the　other　end　of　the　wire　and　hastened　to　add：　　‘‘You　must　know　I'd　not　ask　this　if　I　weren't　certain　you　would　be　glad　you　came。''

‘‘Why　not　drop　in　here　when　you're　down　town？''　suggested　Victor。

She　wondered　why　she　did　not　hang　up　the　receiver　and　forget　him。

But　she　did　not。　　She　murmured；　‘‘In　due　time　I'll　punish　you　for　this；　sir；''　and　said　to　him：　　‘‘There　are　reasons　why　it's　impossible　for　me　to　go　there　just　now。　　And　you　know　I　can't　meet　you　in　a　saloon　or　on　a　street　corner。''

‘‘I'm　not　so　sure　of　that；''　laughed　he。　　‘‘Let　me　see。　　I'm　very　busy。　　But　I　could　come　for　half　an　hour　this　afternoon。''

She　had　planned　an　evening　session；　being　well　aware　of　the　favorable　qualities　of　air　and　light　after　the　matter…of…fact　sun　has　withdrawn　his　last　rays。　　But　she　promptly　decided　to　accept　what　offered。　　‘‘At　three？''

‘‘At　four；''　replied　he。

‘‘You　haven't　forgotten　those　books？''

‘‘Books？　　Oh；　yesyes；　I　remember。　　I'll　bring　them。''

‘‘Thank　you　so　much；''　said　she　sweetly。　　‘‘Good…by。''

And　at　four　she　was　waiting　for　him　on　the　front　veranda　in　a　house　dress　that　waswell；　it　was　not　quite　the　proper　costume　for　such　an　occasion；　but　no　one　else　was　to　see；　and　he　didn't　know　about　that　sort　of　thingand　the　gown　gave　her　charms　their　best　possible　exposure　except　evening　dress；　which　was　out　of　the　question。　　She　had　not　long　to　wait。　　One　of　the　clocks　within　hearing　had　struck　and　another　was　just　beginning　to　strike　when　she　saw　him　coming　toward　the　house。　　She　furtively　watched　him；　admiring　his　walk　without　quite　knowing　why。　　You　may　perhaps　know　the　walk　that　was　Victor'sa　steady　forward　advance　of　the　whole　body　held　firmly；　almost　rigidly　the　walk　of　a　man　leading　another　to　the　scaffold；　or　of　a　man　being　led　there　in　conscious　innocence；　or　of　a　man　ready　to　go　wherever　his　purposes　may　orderready　to　go　without　any　heroics　or　fuss　of　any　kind；　but　simply　in　the　course　of　the　day's　business。　　When　a　man　walks　like　that；　he　is　worth　observing　and　it　is　well　to　think　twice　before　obstructing　his　way。

That　steady；　inevitable　advance　gave　Jane　Hastings　an　absurd　feeling　of　nervousness。　　She　had　an　impulse　to　fly；　as　from　some　oncoming　danger。　　Yet　what　was　coming；　in　fact？　　A　clever　young　man　of　the　working　class；　dressed　in　garments　of　the　kind　his　class　dressed　in　on　Sunday；　and　plebeianly　carrying　a　bundle　under　his　arm。

‘‘Our　clock　says　you　are　three　seconds　late；''　cried　she；　laughing　and　extending　her　hand　in　a　friendly；　equal　way　that　would　have　immensely　flattered　almost　any　man　of　her　own　class。　　‘‘But　another　protests　that　you　are　one　second　early。''

‘‘I'm　one　of　those　fools　who　waste　their　time　and　their　nerves　by　being　punctual；''　said　he。

He　laid　the　books　on　the　wicker　sofa。　　But　instead　of　sitting　Jane　said：　　‘‘We　might　be　interrupted　here。　　Come　to　the　west　veranda。''

There　she　had　him　in　a　leafy　solitudehe　facing　her　as　she　posed　in　fascinating　grace　in　a　big　chair。　　He　looked　at　hernot　the　look　of　a　man　at　a　woman；　but　the　look　of　a　busy　person　at　one　who　is　about　to　show　cause　for　having　asked　for　a　portion　of　his　valuable　time。　　She　laughedand　laughter　was　her　best　gesture。　　‘‘I　can　never　talk　to　you　if　you　pose　like　that；''　said　she。　　‘‘Honestly　now；　is　your　time　so　pricelessly　precious？''

He　echoed　her　laugh　and　settled　himself　more　at　his　ease。　　‘‘What　did　you　want　of　me？''　he　asked。

‘‘I　intend　to　try　to　get　better　hours　and　better　wages　for　the　street　car　men；''　said　she。　　‘‘To　do　it；　I　must　know　just　what　is　rightwhat　I　can　hope　to　get。　　General　talk　is　foolish。　　If　I　go　at　father　I　must　have　definite　proposals　to　make；　with　reasons　for　them。　　I　don't　want　him　to　evade。　　I　would　have　gotten　my　information　　elsewhere；　but　I　could　think　of　no　one　but　you　who　might　not　mislead　me。''

She　had　confidently　expected　that　this　carefully　thought　out　scheme　would　do　the　trick。　　He　would　admire　her；　would　be　interested；　would　be　drawn　into　a　position　where　she　could　enlist　him　as　a　constant　adviser。　　He　moved　toward　the　edge　of　his　chair　as　if　about　to　rise。　　He　said；　pleasantly　enough　but　without　a　spark　of　enthusiasm：

‘‘That's　very　nice　of　you；　Miss　Hastings。　　But　I　can't　advise　youbeyond　saying