Part Two - EIGHT

by Willa Cather

　　One morning when a warm May wind was whirling the dust up thestreet, Mrs. Forrester came smiling into Judge Pommeroy's office,wearing a new spring bonnet, and a short black velvet cape,fastened at the neck with a bunch of violets. "Please be niceenough to notice my new clothes, Niel," she said coaxingly. "Theyare the first I've had in years and years."

　　He told her they were very pretty.

　　"And aren't you glad I have some at last?" she smiled enquiringlythrough her veil. "I feel as if you weren't going to be cross withme today, and would do what I ask you. It's nothing verytroublesome. I want you to come to dinner Friday night. If youcome, there will be eight of us, counting Annie Peters. They areall boys you know, and if you don't like them, you ought to! Yes,you ought to!" she nodded at him severely. "Since you mind whatpeople say, Niel, aren't you afraid they'll be saying you're asnob, just because you've been to Boston and seen a little of theworld? You mustn't be so stiff, so--so superior! It isn'tbecoming, at your age." She drew her brows down into a level frownso like his own that he laughed. He had almost forgotten her oldtalent for mimicry.

　　"What do you want me for? You used always to say it was no goodasking people who didn't mix."

　　"You can mix well enough, if you take the trouble. And this timeyou will, for me. Won't you?"

　　When she was gone, Niel was angry with himself for having beenpersuaded.

　　On Friday evening he was the last guest to arrive. It was a warmnight, after a hot day. The windows were open, and the perfume ofthe lilacs came into the dusky parlour where the boys were sittingabout in chairs that seemed too big for them. A lamp was burningin the dining-room, and there Ivy Peters stood at the sideboard,mixing cocktails. His sister Annie was in the kitchen, helping thehostess. Mrs. Forrester came in for a moment to greet Niel, thenexcused herself and hurried back to Annie Peters. Through the opendoor he saw that the silver dishes had reappeared on the dinnertable, and the candlesticks and flowers. The young men who satabout in the twilight would not know the difference, he thought, ifshe had furnished her table that morning, from the stock in Wernz'squeensware store. Their conception of a really fine dinner servicewas one "hand painted" by a sister or sweetheart. Each boy satwith his legs crossed, one tan shoe swinging in the air anddisplaying a tan silk sock. They were talking about clothes; JoeSimpson, who had just inherited his father's clothing business, waseager to tell them what the summer styles would be.

　　Ivy Peters came in, shaking his drinks. "You fellows are like abunch of girls,--always talking about what you are going to wearand how you can spend your money. Simpson wouldn't get rich veryfast if you all wore your clothes as long as I do. When did I getthis suit, Joe?"

　　"Oh, about the year I graduated from High School, I guess!"

　　They all laughed at Ivy. No matter what he did or said, theylaughed,--in recognition of his general success.

　　Mrs. Forrester came back, fanning herself with a little sandalwoodfan, and when she appeared the boys rose,--in alarm, one might havethought, from the suddenness of it. That much, at any rate, shehad succeeded in teaching them.

　　"Are your cocktails ready, Ivy? You will have to wait for me amoment, while I put some powder on my nose. If I'd known how hotit would be tonight, I'm afraid I wouldn't have had a roast foryou. I'm browner than the ducks. You can pour them though.I won't be long."

　　She disappeared into her own room, and the boys sat down with thesame surprising promptness. Ivy Peters carried the tray about, andthey held their glasses before them, waiting for Mrs. Forrester.When she came, she took Niel's arm and led him into the dining-room. "Did you notice," she whispered to him, "how they hold theirglasses? What is it they do to a little glass to make it look sovulgar? Nobody could ever teach them to pick one up and drink outof it, not if there were tea in it!"

　　Aloud she said, "Niel, will you light the candles for me? And thentake the head of the table, please. You can carve ducks?"

　　"Not so well as--as my uncle does," he murmured, carefully puttingback a candle-shade.

　　"Nor as Mr. Forrester did? I don't ask that. Nobody can carve nowas men used to. But you can get them apart, I suppose? The placeat your right is for Annie Peters. She is bringing in the dinnerfor me. Be seated, gentlemen!" with a little mocking bow and aswinging of earrings.

　　While Niel was carving the ducks, Annie slipped into the chairbeside him, her naturally red face glowing from the heat of thestove. She was several years younger than her brother, whom sheobeyed unquestioningly in everything. She had an extremely badcomplexion and pale yellow hair with white lights in it, exactlythe colour of molasses taffy that has been pulled until itglistens. During the dinner she did not once speak, except to say,"Thank you," or "No, thank you." Nobody but Mrs. Forrester talkedmuch until the first helping of duck was consumed. The boys hadnot yet learned to do two things at once. They paused only to asktheir hostess if she "would care for the jelly," or to answer herquestions.

　　Niel studied Mrs. Forrester between the candles, as she noddedencouragingly to one and another, trying to "draw them out,"laughing at Roy Jones' heavy jokes, or congratulating Joe Simpsonupon his new dignity as a business man with a business of his own.The long earrings swung beside the thin cheeks that were none thebetter, he thought, for the rouge she had put on them when she wentto her room just before dinner. It improved some women, but nother,--at least, not tonight, when her eyes were hollow withfatigue, and she looked pinched and worn as he had never seen her.He sighed as he thought how much work it meant to cook a dinnerlike this for eight people,--and a beefsteak with potatoes wouldhave pleased them better! They didn't really like this kind offood at all. Why did she do it? How would she feel about ittonight, when she sank dead weary into bed, after these stupid boyshad said good-night, and their yellow shoes had carried them downthe hill?

　　She was not eating anything, she was using up all her vitality toelectrify these heavy lads into speech. Niel felt that he musthelp her, or at least try to. He addressed them one after anotherwith energy and determination; he tried baseball, politics,scandal, the corn crop. They answered him with monosyllables orexclamations. He soon realized that they didn't want his politeremarks; they wanted more duck, and to be let alone with it.

　　Dinner was soon over, at any rate. The hostess' attempts toprolong it were unavailing. The salad and frozen pudding weredispatched as promptly as the roast had been. The guests went intothe parlour and lit cigars.

　　Mrs. Forrester had the old-fashioned notion that men should bealone after dinner. She did not join them for half an hour.Perhaps she had lain down upstairs, for she looked a little rested.The boys were talking now, discussing a camping trip Ed Elliott wasgoing to take in the mountains. They were giving him advice aboutcamp outfits, trout flies, mixtures to keep off mosquitoes.

　　"I'll tell you, boys," said Mrs. Forrester, when she had listenedto them for a moment, "when I go back to California, I intend tohave a summer cabin up in the Sierras, and I invite you, one andall, to visit me. You'll have to work for your keep, youunderstand; cut the firewood and bring the water and wash the potsand pans, and go out and catch fish for breakfast. Ivy can bringhis gun and shoot game for us, and I'll bake bread in an iron pot,the old trappers' way, if I haven't forgotten how. Will you come?"

　　"You bet we will! You know those mountains by heart, I expect?"said Ed Elliott.

　　She smiled and shook her head. "It would take a life-time to dothat, Ed, more than a life-time. The Sierras,--there's no end tothem, and they're magnificent."

　　Niel turned to her. "Have you ever told the boys how it was youfirst met Captain Forrester in the mountains out there? If theyhaven't heard the story, I think they would like it."

　　"Really, would you? Well, once upon a time, when I was a veryyoung girl, I was spending the summer at a camp in the mountains,with friends of my father's."

　　She began there, but that was not the beginning of the story; longago Niel had heard from his uncle that the beginning was a scandaland a murder. When Marian Ormsby was nineteen, she was engaged toNed Montgomery, a gaudy young millionaire of the Gold Coast. A fewweeks before the date set for their marriage, Montgomery was shotand killed in the lobby of a San Francisco hotel by the husband ofanother woman. The subsequent trial involved a great deal ofpublicity, and Marian was hurried away from curious eyes and sentup into the mountains until the affair should blow over.

　　Tonight Mrs. Forrester began with "Once upon a time." Sitting atone end of the big sofa, her slippers on a foot-stool and her headin shadow, she stirred the air before her face with the sandalwoodfan as she talked, the rings glittering on her white fingers. Shetold them how Captain Forrester, then a widower, had come up to thecamp to visit her father's partner. She had noticed him verylittle,--she was off every day with the young men. One afternoonshe had persuaded young Fred Harney, an intrepid mountain climber,to take her down the face of Eagle Cliff. They were almost down,and were creeping over a projecting ledge, when the rope broke, andthey dropped to the bottom. Harney fell on the rocks and waskilled instantly. The girl was caught in a pine tree, whicharrested her fall. Both her legs were broken, and she lay in thecanyon all night in the bitter cold, swept by the icy canyondraught. Nobody at the camp knew where to look for the two missingmembers of the party,--they had stolen off alone for theirfoolhardy adventure. Nobody worried, because Harney knew all thetrails and could not get lost. In the morning, however, when theywere still missing, search parties went out. It was CaptainForrester's party that found Marian, and got her out by the lowertrail. The trail was so steep and narrow, the turns round thejutting ledges so sharp, that it was impossible to take her out ona litter. The men took turns carrying her, hugging the canyonwalls with their shoulders as they crept along. With her brokenlegs hanging, she suffered terribly,--fainted again and again. Butshe noticed that she suffered less when Captain Forrester carriedher, and that he took all the most dangerous places on the trailhimself. "I could feel his heart pump and his muscles strain," shesaid, "when he balanced himself and me on the rocks. I knew thatif we fell, we'd go together; he would never drop me."

　　They got back to camp, and everything possible was done for her,but by the time a surgeon could be got up from San Francisco, herfractures had begun to knit and had to be broken over again.

　　"It was Captain Forrester I wanted to hold my hand when the surgeonhad to do things to me. You remember, Niel, he always boasted thatI never screamed when they were carrying me up the trail. Hestayed at the camp until I could begin to walk, holding to his arm.When he asked me to marry him, he didn't have to ask twice. Do youwonder?" She looked with a smile about the circle, and drew herfinger-tips absently across her forehead as if to brush awaysomething,--the past, or the present, who could tell?

　　The boys were genuinely moved. While she was answering theirquestions, Niel thought about the first time he ever heard her tellthat story: Mr. Dalzell had stopped off with a party of friendsfrom Chicago; Marshall Field and the president of the Union Pacificwere among them, he remembered, and they were going through in Mr.Dalzell's private car to hunt in the Black Hills. She had, afterall, not changed so much since then. Niel felt tonight that theright man could save her, even now. She was still her indomitableself, going through her old part,--but only the stage-hands wereleft to listen to her. All those who had shared in fineundertakings and bright occasions were gone.