"We are the only nonentities,"whispered Jessica,as she looked around;"it will make us quite distinguished."We went to speak to our hostess.She stood beside her husband,looking taller than ever;and her face was white.Her long red gown of clinging silk was so pe-culiar as to give one the impression that she was dressed in character.It was easy to tell that it was one of Leroy's fancies.Ihardly heard what she said,but I know she reproached me gently for not having been to see them.I had no further word with her till some one led her to the piano,and she paused to say,--"That poet you spoke of to me --the one you said was a friend of yours --he is my friend now too,and I have learned to sing some of his songs.I am going to sing one now."She seemed to have no timidity at all,but stood quietly,with a half smile,while a young man with a Russian name played a strange minor prelude.Then she sang,her voice a wonderful contralto,cold at times,and again lit up with gleams of pas-sion.The music itself was fitful,now full of joy,now tender,and now sad:
"Look off,dear love,across the sallow sands,And mark yon meeting of the sun and sea,How long they kiss in sight of all the lands,Ah!longer,longer we.""She has a genius for feeling,hasn't she?"Leroy whispered to me.
"A genius for feeling!"I repeated,angrily."Man,she has a heart and a soul and a brain,if that is what you mean!Ishouldn't think you would be able to look at her from the standpoint of a critic."Leroy shrugged his shoulders and went off.For a moment I almost hated him for not feeling more resentful.I felt as if he owed it to his wife to take offence at my foolish speech.
It was evident that the "mountain woman"
had become the fashion.I read reports in the papers about her unique receptions.Isaw her name printed conspicuously among the list of those who attended all sorts of dinners and musicales and evenings among the set that affected intellectual pursuits.
She joined a number of women's clubs of an exclusive kind.
"She is doing whatever her husband tells her to,"said Jessica."Why,the other day I heard her ruining her voice on 'Siegfried'!"But from day to day I noticed a difference in her.She developed a terrible activity.
She took personal charge of the affairs of her house;she united with Leroy in keep-ing the house filled with guests;she got on the board of a hospital for little children,and spent a part of every day among the cots where the sufferers lay.Now and then when we spent a quiet evening alone with her and Leroy,she sewed continually on little white night-gowns for these poor babies.
She used her carriage to take the most ex-traordinary persons riding.
"In the cause of health,"Leroy used to say,"I ought to have the carriage fumi-gated after every ride Judith takes,for she is always accompanied by some one who looks as if he or she should go into quarantine."One night,when he was chaffing her in this way,she flung her sewing suddenly from her and sprang to her feet,as if she were going to give way to a burst of girlish temper.Instead of that,a stream of tears poured from her eyes,and she held out her trembling hands toward Jessica.
"He does not know,"she sobbed."He cannot understand."One memorable day Leroy hastened over to us while we were still at breakfast to say that Judith was ill,--strangely ill.All night long she had been muttering to herself as if in a delirium.Yet she answered lucidly all questions that were put to her.
"She begs for Miss Grant.She says over and over that she 'knows,'whatever that may mean."When Jessica came home she told me she did not know.She only felt that a tumult of impatience was stirring in her friend.
"There is something majestic about her,--something epic.I feel as if she were mak-ing me live a part in some great drama,the end of which I cannot tell.She is suffering,but I cannot tell why she suffers."Weeks went on without an abatement in this strange illness.She did not keep her bed.Indeed,she neglected few of her usual occupations.But her hands were burning,and her eyes grew bright with that wild sort of lustre one sees in the eyes of those who give themselves up to strange drugs or manias.She grew whimsical,and formed capricious friendships,only to drop them.
And then one day she closed her house to all acquaintances,and sat alone continu-ally in her room,with her hands clasped in her lap,and her eyes swimming with the emotions that never found their way to her tongue.
Brainard came to the office to talk with me about her one day."I am a very miser-able man,Grant,"he said."I am afraid Ihave lost my wife's regard.Oh,don't tell me it is partly my fault.I know it well enough.
And I know you haven't had a very good opinion of me lately.But I am remorseful enough now,God knows.And I would give my life to see her as she was when I found her first among the mountains.Why,she used to climb them like a strong man,and she was forever shouting and singing.And she had peopled every spot with strange modern mythological creatures.Her father is an old dreamer,and she got the trick from him.They had a little telescope on a great knoll in the centre of the valley,just where it commanded a long path of stars,and they used to spend nights out there when the frost literally fell in flakes.When I think how hardy and gay she was,how full of courage and life,and look at her now,so feverish and broken,I feel as if I should go mad.You know I never meant to do her any harm.Tell me that much,Grant.""I think you were very egotistical for a while,Brainard,and that is a fact.And you didn't appreciate how much her nature demanded.But I do not think you are re-sponsible for your wife's present condition.
