“Ward’s a free man,” said Irene dreamily. “He’ll probably marry again.”
“Irene! It was silly of me to be as crazy about him as I was. That freedom I used to talk about was all rubbish. We can’t do as we please in this world,—you and I both learned that! And after—well—after all that happened I could never marry Ward. And it would be a mistake for him to marry me—a girl—who——”
“Grace Durland!” Irene interrupted with lofty scorn, “you are talking like an idiot! You’re insulting yourself and you’re insulting Ward. I know a few things. He telephoned you at Miss Reynolds’s twice and asked to see you and you refused. Don’t let Miss Beulah Reynolds intimidate you! She took you to Colorado hoping you’d forget Ward!”
“Miss Reynolds is perfectly fine!” Grace flared. “She’s never said a word against Ward!”
“Oh, she wouldn’t need to say it! She’s just trying to keep you away from him. I’m not knocking Beulah—she’s all right; but when there’s a man in the world who is eating his heart out about you, you just can’t stick your nose in the air and pretend you don’t know he’s alive.”
Grace had been proud of her strength in denying Trenton the interview for which he had asked; but she left Irene with an unquiet heart. Trenton was lonely, and his letter had been written in a fine and tender spirit. She knew that she was guilty of dishonesty in trying to persuade herself that the nature of their past association made marriage with him impossible. He had said nothing that even remotely suggested this. On the other hand he had declared plainly that sooner or later he would have her, meaning, of course, through marriage. She despised herself for her inconsistencies. She had told him that she loved him; love alone could have justified their relationship; and yet she was viewing him in the harshest light without giving him the hearing for which he had asked at the earliest moment possible.
IX
She looked forward eagerly to the promised talk with Irene and after supper she hurried down town and was shot upward in the tall office building. She found Irene and John sitting opposite each other at a large flat top desk. Irene was helping John to compare descriptions of property but she would be free in a moment. He showed Grace into the big library and laughingly gave her a law magazine to read, saying it was the lightest literature the place afforded.
The dingy volumes on the shelves impressed her with a sense of the continuity of law through all the ages. She glanced idly at the titles, Torts, Contracts, Wills, Injunctions,—there must, in this world, be order, rule and law! Life, nobly considered, was impossible without law. It was the height of folly that she had ever fancied herself a rebel, confident of her right to do as she pleased. She had made her mistakes; henceforth she meant to walk circumspectly in the eyes of all men. She envied Irene her happiness with John; as for herself, love had brought her nothing but sorrow and heartache.
Her speculations were interrupted by the rustle of papers in the adjoining room. The door was half ajar and glancing in she saw a man seated at a desk, busily scanning formidable looking documents and affixing his signature.