They had taken an early train and had gone up to Geneva Lake to look over their country house, and to prepare for its opening, later on in the spring.They had taken the decision so unexpectedly that she had no time to tell him of the change in her plans.Corthell wondered if she had--as a matter of fact--forgotten all about her appointment with him.He never quite understood the incident, and afterwards asked himself whether or no he could be so sure, after all, of the estrangement between the husband and wife.He guessed it to be possible that on this occasion Jadwin had suddenly decided to give himself a holiday, and that Laura had been quick to take advantage of it.Was it true, then, that Jadwin had but to speak the word to have Laura forget all else? Was it true that the mere nod of his head was enough to call her back to him?
Corthell was puzzled.He would not admit this to be true.She was, he was persuaded, a woman of more spirit, of more pride than this would seem to indicate.
Corthell ended by believing that Jadwin had, in some way, coerced her; though he fancied that for the few days immediately following the excursion Laura had never been gayer, more alert, more radiant.
But the days went on, and it was easy to see that his business kept Jadwin more and more from his wife.
Often now, Corthell knew, he passed the night down town, and upon those occasions when he managed to get home after the day's work, he was exhausted, worn out, and went to bed almost immediately after dinner.More than ever now the artist and Mrs.Jadwin were thrown together.
On a certain Sunday evening, the first really hot day of the year, Laura and Page went over to spend an hour with the Cresslers, and--as they were all wont to do in the old days before Laura's marriage--the party "sat out on the front stoop." For a wonder, Jadwin was able to be present.Laura had prevailed upon him to give her this evening and the evening of the following Wednesday--on which latter occasion she had planned that they were to take a long drive in the park in the buggy, just the two of them, as it had been in the days of their courtship.
Corthell came to the Cresslers quite as a matter of course.He had dined with the Jadwins at the great North Avenue house and afterwards the three, preferring to walk, had come down to the Cresslers on foot.
But evidently the artist was to see but little of Laura Jadwin that evening.She contrived to keep by her husband continually.She even managed to get him away from the others, and the two, leaving the rest upon the steps, sat in the parlour of the Cresslers' house, talking.
By and by Laura, full of her projects, exclaimed:
"Where shall we go? I thought, perhaps, we would not have dinner at home, but you could come back to the house just a little--a little bit--early, and you could drive me out to the restaurant there in the park, and we could have dinner there, just as though we weren't married just as though we were sweethearts again.Oh, I do hope the weather will be fine.""Oh," answered Jadwin, "you mean Wednesday evening.
Dear old girl, honestly, I--I don't believe I can make it after all.You see, Wednesday----"Laura sat suddenly erect.
"But you said," she began, her voice faltering a little, "you said----""Honey, I know I did, but you must let me off this time again."She did not answer.It was too dark for him to see her face; but, uneasy at her silence, he began an elaborate explanation.Laura, however, interrupted.Calmly enough, she said:
"Oh, that's all right.No, no, I don't mind.Of course, if you are busy.""Well, you see, don't you, old girl?"
"Oh, yes, yes, I see," she answered.She rose.
"I think," she said, "we had better be going home.
Don't you?"
"Yes, I do," he assented."I'm pretty tired myself.
I've had a hard day's work.I'm thirsty, too," he added, as he got up."Would you like to have a drink of water, too?"She shook her head, and while he disappeared in the direction of the Cresslers' dining-room, she stood alone a moment in the darkened room looking out into the street.She felt that her cheeks were hot.Her hands, hanging at her sides, shut themselves into tight fists.
"What, you are all alone?" said Corthell's voice, behind her.
She turned about quickly.
"I must be going," he said."I came to say good night." He held out his hand.
"Good night," she answered, as she gave him hers.Then all at once she added:
"Come to see me again--soon, will you? Come Wednesday night."And then, his heart leaping to his throat, Corthell felt her hand, as it lay in his, close for an instant firmly about his fingers.
"I shall expect you Wednesday then?" she repeated.
He crushed her hand in his grip, and suddenly bent and kissed it.
"Good night," she said, quietly.Jadwin's step sounded at the doorway.
"Good night," he whispered, and in another moment was gone.
During these days Laura no longer knew herself.At every hour she changed; her moods came and went with a rapidity that bewildered all those who were around her.
At times her gaiety filled the whole of her beautiful house; at times she shut herself in her apartments, denying herself to every one, and, her head bowed upon her folded arms, wept as though her heart was breaking, without knowing why.
For a few days a veritable seizure of religious enthusiasm held sway over her.She spoke of endowing a hospital, of doing church work among the "slums" of the city.But no sooner had her friends readjusted their points of view to suit this new development than she was off upon another tangent, and was one afternoon seen at the races, with Mrs.Gretry, in her showiest victoria, wearing a great flaring hat and a bouquet of crimson flowers.
She never repeated this performance, however, for a new fad took possession of her the very next day.She memorised the role of Lady Macbeth, built a stage in the ballroom at the top of the house, and, locking herself in, rehearsed the part, for three days uninterruptedly, dressed in elaborate costume, declaiming in chest tones to the empty room:
