the portygee- 第57部分

〃Have　what？〃

〃Changed。　　You　have　changed　a　good　deal。　　I　don't　know　whether　I
like　it　or　not。　　Perhaps　I　shall　be　more　certain　by　and　by。　　Now
show　me　your　war　cross。　　At　least　you　have　brought　that；　even　if
you　haven't　brought　your　uniform。〃

He　had　the　cross　in　his　pocket…book　and　he　showed　it　to　her。　　She
enthused　over　it；　of　course；　and　wished　he　might　wear　it　even　when
in　citizen's　clothes。　　She　didn't　see　why　he　couldn't。　　And　it　was
SUCH　a　pity　he　could　not　be　in　uniform。　　Captain　Blanchard　had
called　the　evening　before；　to　see　Mother　about　some　war　charities
she　was　interested　in；　and　he　was　still　in　uniform　and　wearing　his
decorations；　too。　　Albert　suggested　that　probably　Blanchard　was
still　in　service。　　Yes；　she　believed　he　was；　but　she　could　not　see
why　that　should　make　the　difference。　　Albert　had　BEEN　in　service。

He　laughed　at　this　and　attempted　to　explain。　　She　seemed　to　resent
the　attempt　or　the　tone。

〃I　do　wish；〃　she　said　almost　pettishly；　〃that　you　wouldn't　be　so
superior。〃

He　was　surprised。　　〃Superior！〃　he　repeated。　　〃Superior！　　I？
Superiority　is　the　very　least　of　my　feelings。　　Isuperior！　　That's
a　joke。〃

And；　oddly　enough；　she　resented　that　even　more。　　〃Why　is　it　a
joke？〃　she　demanded。　　〃I　should　think　you　had　the　right　to　feel
superior　to　almost　any　one。　　A　heroand　a　genius！　　You　ARE
superior。〃

However；　the　little　flurry　was　but　momentary；　and　she　was　all
sweetness　and　smiles　when　she　kissed　him　good　night。　　He　was　shown
to　his　room　by　a　servant　and　amid　its　array　of　comfortsto　him；
fresh　from　France　and　the　camp　and　his　old　room　at　South　Harniss；
it　was　luxuriously　magnificenthe　sat　for　some　time　thinking。　　His
thoughts　should　have　been　happy　ones；　yet　they　were　not　entirely
so。　　This　is　a　curiously　unsatisfactory　world；　sometimes。

The　next　day　he　went　shopping。　　Fosdick　had　given　him　a　card　to　his
own　tailor　and　Madeline　had　given　him　the　names　of　several　shops
where；　so　she　declared；　he　could　buy　the　right　sort　of　ties　and
things。　　From　the　tailor's　Albert　emerged　looking　a　trifle　dazed；
after　a　visit　to　two　of　the　shops　the　dazed　expression　was　even
more　pronounced。　　His　next　visits　were　at　establishments　farther
downtown　and　not　as　exclusive。　　He　returned　to　the　Fosdick　home
feeling　fairly　well　satisfied　with　the　results　achieved。　　Madeline；
however；　did　not　share　his　satisfaction。

〃But　Dad　sent　you　to　his　tailor；〃　she　said。　　〃Why　in　the　world
didn't　you　order　your　evening　clothes　there？　　And　Brett　has　the
most　stunning　ties。　　Every　one　says　so。　　Instead　you　buy　yours　at　a
department　store。　　Now　why？〃

He　smiled。　　〃My　dear　girl；〃　he　said；　〃your　father's　tailor
estimated　that　he　might　make　me　a　very　passable　dress　suit　for　one
hundred　and　seventy…five　dollars。　　Brett's　ties　were　stunning；　just
as　you　say；　but　the　prices　ranged　from　five　to　eight　dollars；　which
was　more　stunning　still。　　For　a　young　person　from　the　country　out
of　a　job；　which　is　my　condition　at　present；　such　things　may　be
looked　at　but　not　handled。　　I　can't　afford　them。〃

She　tossed　her　head。　　〃What　nonsense！〃　she　exclaimed。　　〃You're　not
out　of　a　job；　as　you　call　it。　　You　are　a　writer　and　a　famous
writer。　　You　have　written　one　book　and　you　are　going　to　write　more。
Besides；　you　must　have　made　heaps　of　money　from　The　Lances。　　Every
one　has　been　reading　it。〃

When　he　told　her　the　amount　of　his　royalty　check　she　expressed　the
opinion　that　the　publisher　must　have　cheated。　　It　ought　to　have
been　ever　and　ever　so　much　more　than　that。　　Such　wonderful　poems！

The　next　day　she　went　to　Brett's　and　purchased　a　half　dozen　of　the
most　expensive　ties；　which　she　presented　to　him　forthwith。

〃There！〃　she　demanded。　　〃Aren't　those　nicer　than　the　ones　you
bought　at　that　old　department　store？　　Well；　then！〃

〃But；　Madeline；　I　must　not　let　you　buy　my　ties。〃

〃Why　not？　　It　isn't　such　an　unheard…of　thing　for　an　engaged　girl　to
give　her　fiance　a　necktie。〃

〃That　isn't　the　idea。　　I　should　have　bought　ties　like　those　myself；
but　I　couldn't　afford　them。　　Now　for　you　to〃

〃Nonsense！　　You　talk　as　if　you　were　a　beggar。　　Don't　be　so　silly。〃

〃But；　Madeline〃

〃Stop！　　I　don't　want　to　hear　it。〃

She　rose　and　went　out　of　the　room。　　She　looked　as　if　she　were　on
the　verge　of　tears。　　He　felt　obliged　to　accept　the　gift；　but　he
disliked　the　principle　of　the　things　as　much　as　ever。　　When　she
returned　she　was　very　talkative　and　gay　and　chatted　all　through
luncheon。　　The　subject　of　the　ties　was　not　mentioned　again　by
either　of　them。　　He　was　glad　he　had　not　told　her　that　his　new　dress
suit　was　ready…made。

While　in　France；　awaiting　his　return　home；　he　had　purchased　a　ring
and　sent　it　to　her。　　She　was　wearing　it；　of　course。　　Compared　with
other　articles　of　jewelry　which　she　wore　from　time　to　time；　his
ring　made　an　extremely　modest　showing。　　She　seemed　quite　unaware　of
the　discrepancy；　but　he　was　aware　of　it。

On　an　evening　later　in　the　week　Mrs。　Fosdick　gave　a　reception。
〃Quite　an　informal　affair；〃　she　said；　in　announcing　her　intention。
〃Just　a　few　intimate　friends　to　meet　Mr。　Speranza；　that　is　all。
Mostly　lovers　of　literaturediscerning　people；　if　I　may　say　so。〃

The　quite　informal　affair　looked　quite　formidably　formal　to　Albert。
The　few　intimate　friends　were　many；　so　it　seemed　to　him。　　There　was
still　enough　of　the　former　Albert　Speranza　left　in　his　make…up　to
prevent　his　appearing　in　the　least　distressed　or　ill　at　ease。　　He
was；　as　he　had　always　been　when　in　the　public　eye；　even　as　far　back
as　the　school　dancing…classes　with　the　Misses　Bradshaw's　young
ladies；　perfectly　self…possessed；　charmingly　polite；　absolutely
self…assured。　　And　his　good　looks　had　not　suffered　during　his　years
of　imprisonment　and　suffering。　　He　was　no　longer　a　handsome　boy；
but　he　was　an　extraordinarily　attractive　and　distinguished　man。

Mrs。　Fosdick　marked　his　manner　and　appearance　and　breathed　a　sigh
of　satisfaction。　　Madeline　noted　them。　　Her　young　friends　of　the
sex　noted　them　and　whispered　and　looked　approval。　　What　the　young
men　thought　does　not　matter　so　much；　perhaps。　　One　of　these　was　the
Captain　Blanchard；　of　whom　Madeline　had　written　and　spoken。　　He　was
a　tall；　athletic　chap；　who　looked　well　in　his　uniform；　and　whose
face　was　that　of　a　healthy；　clean…living　and　clean…thinking　young
American。　　He　and　Albert　shook　hands　and　looked　each　other　over。
Albert　decided　he　should　like　Blanchard　if　he　knew　him　better。　　The
captain　was　not　talkative；　in　fact；　he　seemed　rather　taciturn。
Maids　and　matrons　gushed　when　presented　to　the　lion　of　the　evening。
It　scarcely　seemed　possible　that　they　were　actually　meeting　the
author　of　The　Lances　of　Dawn。　　That　wonderful　book！　　Those　wonderful
poems！　　〃How　CAN　you　write　them；　Mr。　Speranza？〃　　〃When　do　your　best
inspirations　come；　Mr。　Speranza？〃　　〃Oh；　if　I　could　write　as　you　do　I
should　walk　on　air。〃　　The　matron　who　breathed　the　last…quoted
ecstasy　was　distinctly　weighty；　the　mental　picture　of　her　pedestrian
trip　through　the　atmosphere　was　interesting。　　Albert's　hand　was
patted　by　the　elderly　spinsters；　young　women's　eyes　lifted　soulful
glances　to　his。

It　was　the　sort　of　thing　he　would　have　revelled　in　three　or　four
years　earlier。　　Exactly　the　sort　of　thing　he　had　dreamed　of　when
the　majority　of　the　poems　they　gushed　over　were　written。　　It　was
much　the　same　thing　he　remembered　having　seen　his　father　undergo
in　the　days　when　he　and　the　opera　singer　were　together。　　And　his
father　had；　apparently；　rather　enjoyed　it。　　He　realized　all　this
and　he　realized；　too；　with　a　queer　feeling　that　it　should　be　so；
that　he　did　not　like　it　at　all。　　It　was　silly。　　Nothing　he　had
written　warranted　such　extravagances。　　Hadn't　these　people　any
sense　of　proportion？　　They　bored　him　to　desperation。　　The　sole
relief　was　the　behavior　of　the　men；　particularly　the　middle…aged　or
elderly　men；　obviously　present　through　feminine　compulsion。　　They
seized　his　hand；　moved　it　up　and　down　with　a　pumping　motion；
uttered　some　stereotyped　prevarications　about　their　pleasure　at
meeting　him　and　their　having　enjoyed　his　poems　very　much；　and　then
slid　on　in　the　direction　of　the　refreshment　room。

And　Albert；　as　he　shook　hands；　bowed　and　smiled　and　was　charmingly
affable；　found　his　thoughts　wandering　until　they　settled　upon
Private　Mike　Kelly　and　the　picturesque　language　of　the　latter　when
he；　as　sergeant；　routed　him　out　for　guard　duty。　　Mike　had　not
gushed　over　him　nor　called　him　a　genius。　　He　had　called　him　many
things；　but　not　that。

He　was　glad　indeed　when　he　could　slip　away　for　a　dance　with
Madeline。　　He　found　her　chatting　gaily　with　Captain　Blanchard；　who
had　been　her　most　recent　partner。　　He　claimed　her　from　the　captain
and　as　he　led　her　out　to　the　dance　floor　she　whispered　that　she　was
very　proud　of　him。　　〃But　I　DO　wish　YOU　could　wear　your　war　cross；〃
she　added。

The　quite　informal　affair　was　the　first　of　many　quite　as　informally
formal。　　Also　Mrs。　Fosdick's　satellites　and　friends　of　the　literary
clubs　and　the　war　work　societies　seized　the　opportunity　to　make
much　of　the　heroic　author　of　The　Lances　of　Dawn。　　His　society　was
requested　at　teas；　at　afternoon　as　well　as　evening　gatherings。　　He
would　have　refused　most　of　these　invitations；　but　Madeline　and　her
mother　seemed　to　take　his　acceptance　for　granted；　in　fact；　they
accepted　for　him。　　A　ghastly　habit　developed　of　asking　him　to　read
a　few　of　his　own　poems　on　these　occasions。　　〃PLEASE；　Mr。　Speranza。
It　will　be　such　a　treat；　and　such　an　HONOR。〃　　Usually　a　particular
request　was　made　that　he　read　〃The　Greater　Love。〃　　Now　〃The　Greater
Love〃　was　the　poem　which；　written　in　those　rapturous　days　when　he
and　Madeline　first　became　aware　of　their　mutual　adoration；　was
refused　by　one　editor　as　a　〃trifle　too　syrupy。〃　　To　read　that
sticky　effusion　over　and　over　again　became　a　torment。　　There　were
occasions　when　if　a　man　had　referred　to　〃The　Greater　Love；〃　its
author　might　have　howled　profanely　and　offered　bodily　violence。
But　no　men　ever　did　refer　to　〃The　Greater　Love。〃

On　one　occasion　when　a　sentimental　matron　and　her　gushing　daughter
had　begged　to　know　if　he　did　not　himself　adore　that　poem；　if　he　did
not　consider　it　the　best　he　had　ever　written；　he　had　answered
frankly。　　He　was　satia