``Yes, I see,'' said Mrs.Brindley with an ironic sadness which she indulged openly because there was no danger of his understanding.
``I don't exactly love her because she amounts to a lot--or is sure to,'' pursued he, vaguely dissatisfied with himself.``It's just as she doesn't care for me because I've got the means to take care of her right, yet that's part of me--and she'd not be able to marry me if I hadn't.Don't you see?''
``Yes, I see,'' said Mrs.Brindley with more irony and less sadness.``There's always SOME reason beside love.''
``I'd say there's always some reason FOR love,'' said Baird, and he felt that he had said something brilliant--as is the habit of people of sluggish mentality when they say a thing they do not themselves understand.
``You don't doubt that I love her?'' he went on.``Why should I ask her to marry me if I didn't?''
``I suppose that settles it,'' said Cyrilla.
``Of course it does,'' declared he.
For an hour he sat there, talking on, most of it a pretty dull kind of drivel.Mrs.Brindley listened patiently, because she liked him and because she had nothing else to do until bedtime.At last he rose with a long sigh and said:
``I guess I might as well be going.''
``She'll not come in to-night again,'' said Cyrilla slyly.
He laughed.``You are a good one.I'll own up, I've been staying on partly in the hope that she'd come back.But it's been a great joy to talk to you about her.I know you love her, too.''
``Yes, I'm extremely fond of her,'' said she.``I've not known many women--many people without petty mean tricks.She's one.''
``Isn't she, though?'' exclaimed he.
``I don't mean she's perfect,'' said Mrs.Brindley.
``I don't even mean that she's as angelic as you think her.I'd not like her, if she were.But she's a superior kind of human.''
She was tired of him now, and got him out speedily.
As she closed the front door upon him, Mildred's door, down the hall, opened.Her head appeared, an inquiring look upon her face.Mrs.Brindley nodded.Mil-dred, her hair done close to her head, a dressing-robe over her nightgown and her bare feet in little slippers, came down the hall.She coiled herself up in a big chair in the library and lit a cigarette.She looked like a handsome young boy.
``He told you?'' she said to Mrs.Brindley.
``Yes,'' replied Cyrilla.
Silence.In all their intimate acquaintance there had never been an approach to the confidential on either side.It was Cyrilla's notion that confidences were a mistake, and that the more closely people were thrown together the more resolutely they ought to keep certain barriers between them.She and Mildred got on too admirably, liked each other too well, for there to be any trifling with their relations--and over-intimacy inevitably led to trifling.Mildred had restrained herself because Mrs.Brindley had compelled it by rigid example.Often she had longed to talk things over, to ask advice; but she had never ventured further than generalities, and Mrs.Brindley had never proffered advice, had never accepted opportunities to give it except in the vaguest way.She had taught Mildred a great deal, but always by example, by doing, never by saying what ought or ought not to be done.Thus, such development of Mildred's character as there had been was natural and permanent.
``He has put me in a peculiar position,'' said Mildred.``Or, rather, I have let myself drift into a peculiar position.For I think you're right in saying that oneself is always to blame.Won't you let me talk about it to you, please? I know you hate confidences.
But I've got to--to talk.I'd like you to advise me, if you can.But even if you don't, it'll do me good to say things aloud.''
``Often one sees more clearly,'' was Cyrilla's reply--noncommittal, yet not discouraging.
``I'm free to marry him,'' Mildred went on.``That is, I'm not married.I'd rather not explain--''
``Don't,'' said Mrs.Brindley.``It's unnecessary.''
``You know that it's Stanley who has been lending me the money to live on while I study.Well, from the beginning I've been afraid I'd find myself in a difficult position.''
``Naturally,'' said Mrs.Brindley, as she paused.
``But I've always expected it to come in another way--not about marriage, but--''
``I understand,'' said Mrs.Brindley.``You feared you'd be called on to pay in the way women usually pay debts to men.''
Mildred nodded.``But this is worse than I expected --much worse.''
``I hadn't thought of that,'' said Cyrilla.``Yes, you're right.If he had hinted the other thing, you could have pretended not to understand.If he had suggested it, you could have made him feel cheap and mean.''
``I did,'' said Mildred.``He has been--really wonderful--better than almost any man would have been--more considerate than I deserved.And I took advantage of it.''
``A woman has to,'' said Cyrilla.``The fight between men and women is so unequal.''
``I took advantage of him,'' repeated Mildred.
``And he apologized, and I--I went on taking the money.I didn't know what else to do.Isn't that dreadful?''
``Nothing to be proud of,'' said Cyrilla.``But a very usual transaction.''
``And then,'' pursued Mildred, ``I discovered that I--that I'd not be able to make a career.But still I kept on, though I've been trying to force myself to--to show some pride and self-respect.I discovered it only a short time ago, and it wasn't really until to-day that I was absolutely sure.''
``You ARE sure?''
``There's hardly a doubt,'' replied Mildred.``But never mind that now.I've got to make a living at something, and while I'm learning whatever it is, I've got to have money to live on.And I can get it only from him.Now, he asks me to marry him.He wouldn't ask me if he didn't think I was going to be a great singer.He doesn't know it, but I do.''
Mrs.Brindley smiled sweetly.
``And he thinks that I love him, also.If I accept him, it will be under doubly false pretenses.If I refuse him I've got to stop taking the money.''
