"Nothing's the matter. Did you bring any message from Mr. Hart?" she asked, drying her eyes with an assumption of dignity.
"Yes; the telephone at the shop is out of order, and I told him I'd come round and deliver this note. See here, Annie," Rachel interrupted herself, "tell me what's bothering you."
"Oh—it's just Alexander!" returned Annie, and without more persuasion unburdened herself. "You see what my life is here?" she wailed. "And we might live so differently if Alexander wished—if he cared—if he even did the things he ought to do in connection with the Company; if he wasn't a fool, in short. Now take that radiometer," she went on, "you know as well as I do that it's considered wonderful. Well, only yesterday, your husband sent someone from Columbia University to inspect it; the college thought of getting one. Emil was out, so I showed the gentleman the old model, for the new one isn't done, and I was just thinking what we'd make on the sale, when in comes Alexander. 'Oh, that's trash!' he cries. 'That ought to go in the junk heap! Don't take that; I have something else on hand that will put that in the shade completely.' So," she finished in a tone between tragedy and disgust, "the sale was ruined. And if that kind of thing has happened once, it's happened dozens of times."
"But the college will get the instrument eventually?" Rachel asked; and, as she looked at Annie, in spite of her sympathy, she was conscious of an inclination to laugh.
"Possibly, but we'll likely as not be dead, for Alexander goes on perfecting a thing and perfecting it and the people can wait an eternity and he doesn't care. Sometimes," she concluded, "I'm tempted to give it all up."
As she reviewed the situation, Rachel also for the moment was forced into depression. Similar complaints reached her from every side. Scarcely a day passed when Simon was not moved to anger by some shortcoming on the part of the inventor. Now it was his failure to be on hand at a critical moment to sign necessary papers; again it was his mysterious disappearance from the city. In fact, his unbusiness-like methods placed the struggling company in many an embarrassing situation. More than once Simon had threatened to withdraw from the enterprise and it was only her own persuasions that restrained him. His faith in the inventor, never of the strongest, was clearly on the wane.
"And you mustn't think it's just one thing," resumed Annie, putting renewed pathos in her voice, "it's a whole succession of things. Take that Washington matter. You never heard the rights of that, I'll be bound. And I'm going to tell you. You remember, don't you, that time a month or two ago when the Government showed such interest in that colour wave device, and the Company were so encouraged? Well, your husband thought it would be a good plan for them to send Alexander to Washington instead of anyone else because Alexander could explain the thing eloquently. And he did explain it—to the wrong official. He went there, as I found out afterward from a letter, and demonstrated it to the wrong man. Then he returned home, blandly satisfied with himself, and of course nothing came of the matter on which the Company had built such hopes. But I never said a word to explain it; I was so ashamed."
Looking at Annie's little woe-begone visage, Rachel burst out laughing.
The other, however, stared at her angrily.
"I don't see anything to laugh at. Alexander is enough to try the patience of a saint; and I guess if you were married to him, you'd know it."