Vision House

"Ah, now I'm sure of something I only wondered about before!"

"Will you tell me what that is?"

"A note for Meesis Garth from the Hotel El Tovar," announced the voice of the half-breed maid.

"Bring it to me!" Marise ordered.

The girl, instinctively aware that she'd interrupted a "scene," tripped across the terrace with an apologetic air. Marise almost snatched an envelope from a little silver tray and tore it open. Her strong young eyes could just make out through the dusk a few lines of written words.

"This is from Zélie Marks!" she exclaimed, looking up at Garth. "She wants me to come over at once and see her at the hotel. She says she has been ill, and that's the reason she's staying on there."

"She tells the truth. She had appendicitis. They thought there'd have to be an operation, but they cured her up – or nearly – without. Why does she ask to see you?"

"She says she'll explain everything when I get there."

"Do you intend to go?"

"Yes. I'd like to hear – her story."

"All right – go. You shall have the car, of course. But there are a few things I'd prefer to tell you myself first."

"I'd rather hear everything from her."

Garth gave a shrug. "Very well. As you please. But you and she both seem to forget dinner-time. You'll be hungry if – "

"I won't be hungry!" cried Marise. "I want to start now."

"I'll see to it for you," said Garth, with that quiet, rather heavy air which irritated Marise sometimes and always puzzled her. For that was one of the things about him which upset her judgment of his character.

CHAPTER XXXVII

ZÉLIE GETS EVEN

"Will you step into Miss Marks's sitting-room? She's expecting you," Marise was greeted, arriving at the hotel.

"A private sitting-room! And Jack Garth's money pays for it," she thought dully. But of course it was nothing to her. At least, it would have been nothing if, while keeping it secret, he was not bent on driving away the man who loved her – Marise. Oh, and that reminded her of an important thing! It had been on her lips to accuse him of giving Zélie the jewels, but she had been interrupted, or had forgotten. Then the note had come from the hotel… She would have the truth out of Zélie herself.

The sitting-room was on the ground floor, and had a loggia all its own, lit by a red-shaded electric lamp, like an illuminated poppy. Zélie was there in a huge American rocking-chair, gazing Canyonward under the moon, when Mrs. Garth was shown into the room. Instantly the girl jumped up, and Marise saw her framed in the door. She looked pale, and thinner than she had been in New York. But the change wasn't unbecoming.

The conventional thing would have been for Zélie to say, "How good of you to come! I hope you didn't mind my sending for you, as I've been ill." Whereupon Marise would naturally have answered, "Not at all."

But nothing of the kind happened. The two girls eyed each other like fencers, or even like cats. Then Marise said, "You see, I've come."

"Yes," replied Zélie, "I supposed you would, after what Lord Severance told me."

Marise was startled. "Lord Severance! What did he tell you?"

"That you suspected your husband and me of all sorts of unmentionable things, and that you wouldn't be satisfied until you'd had it out with me. Well – now you can have it out with me. Fire away, Mrs. Garth. I've nothing to be ashamed of. It's all the other way round."

"What do you mean?" gasped Marise.

"Well, frankly, I mean that you should be ashamed of suspecting him. You ought to know him better."

"I said not one word to Lord Severance about suspecting my – Major Garth," Marise broke out in self-defence.

"Didn't you?" echoed Zélie. "Well, that's funny, since he sent up his card and told me you were wild. He urged and urged, if I had any friendship for Jack Garth, to write and get you here."

"That's very strange," said Marise. "But I suppose – one must suppose! – he meant well. Now I am here, if you have anything to tell me you might as well tell it."

"Does Jack know you've come?" asked Zélie quietly.

"He does. We were talking about you when your note arrived. You see, Lord Severance mentioned that you were at the hotel."

"Then why did you want to talk with me? Surely you'd believe Jack? I shouldn't think anyone ever accused him of lying!"

"I never did! But I – well, when your note came I thought I'd rather hear everything from you. It wouldn't have occurred to me otherwise."

"You mean you wouldn't have proposed coming over here if I hadn't written?"

"I shouldn't even have thought of it."

"Then it's a game of Lord Severance's we seem to be playing."

"I don't see his object," puzzled Marise.

"Neither do I," replied Zélie – "yet. But as you say – now you are here, we might as well talk. Won't you sit down?"

"No, thank you," said Marise. "I'd rather stand."

"Well, if you don't mind, I'll sit. I'm not very strong yet, as I told you in my letter, that's why I'm still here."

"Oh, please do sit down!" cried Marise, more gently. "In that case I will sit, too."

"In justice to Jack I ought to tell you the whole story of why I came out," said Zélie. "He and I decided it would be best for you not to know. At least, I decided, because I'm a woman and realise how a woman feels about such things. However, as he let you come here to see me, he must have expected you to hear the truth. Goodness knows, it's simple enough, and won't take long in the telling! The morning after you were married he called early to see me, and asked if I'd do him a big favour. Of course I said yes. The favour was, to start out West at once, buy pretty things to decorate your room at Vision House, get the whole place in apple-pie order, and engage servants from somewhere – no matter where, and no matter what wages. Mothereen wasn't strong enough to have the whole work thrown on her shoulders, though she'd have loved it. But when I'd finished a lot of commissions at Kansas City, I stopped at Albuquerque and told her about you."

"I wonder what you told?" Marise laughed a little nervously.

"What Jack would have wanted me to tell, not what you deserved."

Mrs. John Garth stiffened. "Are you the judge of what I deserve?"

"God help you if I were! All I know about you is, that you're the most spoiled, conceited girl I ever saw, and that you're not capable of appreciating Jack Garth – no, not capable!"

"You don't know in the least what I'm capable of!" The cheeks of Marise were burning now. They felt as if they had been slapped. "I never showed my real self to you. Why should I?"

"Why, indeed? But you showed me all your gladdest rags, and your jewels and newspaper notices, and let me answer lots of your love-letters, meaning to make the poor secretary envious."

"What horrid thoughts you had of me! I never meant that."

"Subconsciously, if not consciously, that's just what you did mean."

"I won't dispute with you, Miss Marks. But speaking of jewels – since you're being so frank – tell me if Major Garth didn't make a present to you of a rope of pearls, an emerald laurel wreath, a sapphire and diamond pendant – "

Zélie was strongly tempted to answer bluntly "Yes." If she did, and left it at that, Marise would be furious. She would go back to Vision House and quarrel with Jack, even if the two hadn't quarrelled irrevocably already, and the divorce which might give Jack to her would come soon. But no, she had vowed to herself that she would be loyal to Jack through everything. She had vowed, too, that she would "get even" with Marise Sorel some day – and now was the day when she could "bring off the stunt," as she said to herself. But she wouldn't get even in a way to hurt Jack. If possible, she'd do it in a way to help him.

"He gave me those things to take out to Mothereen and ask her to keep them for you, till you came," lied Zélie. And lying, she looked more indignantly virtuous than when she had been telling the simple truth.

Marise believed her.

"Is there anything more you want to know?" inquired

Miss Marks. "Because if you do, I can't think of much which would especially concern or interest you, except that Mothereen – Mrs. Mooney – came to the Grand Canyon with me and helped as much in the work as she was strong enough to do. So you needn't imagine she told you any fibs. If there were reservations, I'm responsible. She'd have blabbed out everything if I hadn't warned her you wouldn't be pleased to hear that I'd been Jack's chosen messenger. You didn't like me much, I said. You and your mother thought I was rather forward and above my place. You'd think so a heap more if you knew. Mothereen promised to hold her tongue. It must have been a struggle for her. She's as ingenuous as a child. So is Jack in some ways. He'd have told you all about me if I hadn't made him see it wouldn't do."

"You seem to have been awfully solicitous on my account," said Marise.

"It was on Jack's account really," explained Zélie.

"I didn't want his apple-cart to be upset – no matter what I thought of the apples. I didn't care a hang for them personally."

Marise laughed. "The apples were me."

"That's it. Pretty, good-smelling apples, with pink cheeks and satin skin. But at heart – r-o-t-t-e-n!"

"Thanks!" choked Marise, and got up. "Thank you for all your frankness. I could return some of it, but you've been ill, and I don't like being rude. I must just say one thing, however, before I go. You've given yourself away dreadfully."

Zélie stumbled to her feet. "How?"

"By showing me exactly what your feeling is for Major Garth."

"I'm his pal from the beginning to the end."

Marise ignored the evasion. "You needn't be afraid that I'll be cad enough to go and tell him what I think about you. He probably knows your feelings and returns them, but – "

"He doesn't. Are you a damn fool, or are you only pretending?"

"I daresay I'm a damn fool," repeated Marise sweetly. "In any case, I'm not pretending."

"Then you're doubly a fool!" shrilled Zélie. "A damned fool not to know how Jack feels for you, and a damneder one not to know enough to feel right towards him. Jack's the salt of the earth. There's more courage and good faith and everything noble and big in his little finger than in your whole lovely body. So now you can go home. And put that in your pocket!"

Marise went. She shut the door softly, so softly and considerately that it hurt worse than a loud slam.

"I did get even with her!" Zélie thought. And plumped down on the sofa with a sob.

CHAPTER XXXVIII

WHEN SEVERANCE THREW DOWN THE KEY

Not far from the door of Zélie Marks's room another door stood open. Marise would have whirled past it without noticing, had not her name been called.

She turned her head, with a slight start, and saw Severance.

"Come here a moment, my dear one," he said. "I have to speak to you."

Marise hesitated. Her brain was not clear. She felt dazed, as if Zélie had boxed her ears, as she had boxed Tony's earlier. She longed for sympathy. No one – not even Garth himself! – had ever been so horrid to her before, as Zélie had.

Severance took her hand and drew her gently over the threshold into a private sitting-room much like Miss Marks's. Then, when she was safely inside the room, he shut the door, locked it, and jerked out the key.

"Tony!" cried Marise. She felt as if some scene in one of her plays had come true. Except that – Tony wasn't the villain who locked the heroine in. Surely he wasn't the villain!

"This isn't the right time for a joke," she said.

"And this isn't a joke," said Severance.

"Well, unlock the door at once, please, and let me out," she insisted. "I must go – "

"Where must you go?" he asked.

"Where! Ho – back, of course."

"To Garth – after what happened between us three at his house this evening? It's impossible for you to go back to him, Marise. He can't expect it himself. When you came away to-night – if he knew you came – he must have known the whole thing was finished, the farce played out."

The girl felt as if a chilly breeze blew over her. She did not answer for a moment. She was wondering in an awed way if Tony were right. Was that the reason Garth had let her go so easily, to answer Zélie's note in person? But no. He had only just reminded her the moment before how he'd never intended giving her up to Severance. Still – when she thought of it – what was there to go back for, unless she intended to stay married to Garth – to be married to him as other women were married to their husbands?

She had never contemplated that, even at the times – and there had been times – when she'd admired Garth, admired him with a secret thrill. Besides, no matter how much Garth had wanted her, in the first throes of his infatuation, he didn't want her now – for good. Oh, such an end to the play wasn't to be dreamed of, from whichever side you looked at it!

"If I go away anywhere from Vision House, it will be to my mother," she said at last.

"Yes, of course. That's where I'm going to take you. We'll go to-night. There's a train we – "

"I can't possibly go with you!" she cried. "Don't you see, to do that would cause the very scandal we've all sacrificed so much to prevent?"

"I do see," said Tony. "But you said yourself to-day that 'everything had changed.' We don't need to be afraid of scandal any more. It can't hurt us now. It will do us good. Marise, I've been thinking things over, and I believe that the only way we can get that brute to free you is by deliberately making a scandal. All the trouble comes from your throwing yourself at the fellow's head in such a hurry. If you'd waited, Œnone dying when she did would have made your marriage useless. You and I would both have been free – "

"We were both free before you decided you'd have to marry Œnone," broke in Marise.

"That was different. I was in debt and hadn't a penny to play with. I couldn't live on you. Now my debts are paid, and though they've not left me a very rich man, I've got something to go on with – "

"You have, because Jack Garth won't take your money."

"Oh, wouldn't he, if he could get it?"

"No!"

"Well, again, there'd be no question of money at present between him and me if you'd waited, and hadn't tangled yourself up in this beastly knot to spite me. Now I'll have to get you out of the tangle as best I can. You can't do it yourself, and Garth will hang on to you for the same motive you had – spite, if nothing more. Go with me to-night. Be brave. Make a scandal. Then for the sake of that mother of his – and for his pride if he has any, if not, for the appearance of it – he'll free you."

Marise was very pale. "A little while ago," she said, "you spoke of Zélie Marks being here to give – an excuse for divorce."

"Yes. That seems the likely thing. Garth probably arranged it when he expected money from me, to make divorce worth his while. Now we've had a row, more or less, and he knows that at best he can't get much. His cry is 'all or nothing.' He won't use Miss Marks as a pretext."

"I tell you he never intended to accept money!" insisted Marise.

"That's a new opinion of yours, isn't it?"

"I never felt he would touch it. But I didn't know surely. Now I do."

"I wonder how?"

"I do – that's all."

"Well, by Jove; I never expected to hear you taking Garth's part against me!" Tony exploded.

"I'm not doing that," Marise said. "We've all been horrid and detestable in this business, you and I, and even poor Mums – for my sake – "

"What about Garth? Is he on a higher plane?"

"Yes, he is!" exclaimed the girl. "He loved me once. He wanted to marry me then – just for love. How he felt afterwards – or how he feels now – I don't know. But – he's not a beast."

"And I am?"

"Oh, I put myself and Mums in the same box with you. I'm saying nothing of you I don't say of ourselves."

"Well, so be it!" said Severance. "I'm a beast, if you like, and you're the female of my kind. All the more reason why you belong to me. Nothing shall separate us again. Even if we can't marry – "

"Let me go out of this room!" the girl cried sharply.

"No! Your mother approved of my plan, I tell you, Marise. She saw it was the only way, for me to take you – "

"I don't believe it! There's not an unconventional drop of blood in Mums' veins. If she wanted me to be 'taken' anywhere, it would be to her. She would have come to this hotel, and received me. Then, perhaps, I would have stayed – but not for you. I don't love you, Tony! I've discovered that. I wouldn't marry you if I could."

"You're out of your senses!" he cried. "You may think what you say at this minute, because you're angry. But your heart's mine. I won't let you go – "

"If you don't, I'll scream," threatened Marise. "Open that door at once, or I'll yell at the top of my lungs."

"I don't think you will," said Severance. "You don't like scenes, except on the stage. Besides, I don't care a damn if you do yell. It won't change things in the end."

The girl's answer was to lift her voice and shriek as only a trained actress can shriek.

Instantly, before she had reached her highest note, Garth stepped over the low window-sill.

"I was waiting for that," he said. "I knew you were here, Marise, so I lurked on the loggia. Unlock that door, Severance."

The other man was olive grey with rage and disappointment. It occurred to Marise that he looked seasick.

"Unlock the damned thing yourself!" he spat, and flung the key on the floor.

It landed near Garth's feet. But Garth did not stoop.

"Pick up the key," he said quietly.

"I'm damned if I will!" sputtered Severance.

"Not so many damns, please," said Garth. "They bore me." He took a Browning from his pocket and aimed it neatly at the centre of Severance's forehead. "Better pick up the key," he added.

Severance picked it up.

"Now unlock the door."

Severance unlocked it, and walked out into the hall. Then he slammed the door after him. Voices were heard.

"Somebody's come to inquire why somebody screamed," said Garth, pocketing the weapon again. "If they knock here, it's all right. Mr. and Mrs. Garth have a right to a tête-à-tête anywhere. I'll say you thought you saw a mouse. That'll settle their doubts forever."

But nobody knocked.

"Don't be afraid," Garth went on. "Even if you came in here because you wanted to come, I shan't make a row. But somehow I've got a 'hunch' that you didn't want to."

"I didn't," said Marise.

"He pulled you in?"

"Yes. I didn't think much of it at first. But – "

"Well, I don't believe he'll trouble you again. Not ever. I felt he might make a fool of himself to-night, though. So I came over, in case I should be needed. Now, what do you want to do – I mean, really want? I consider Severance wiped off the map —your map. So if you wish to be free of me, I'll make you so. While Severance was in the offing I'd have stuck to you like a leech, because you're too good for him. That Browning wasn't loaded. But I'd have killed the fellow sooner than give you up to him. It's different now. I'll take you to Los Angeles, to your mother at Bell Towers to-night if you like."

Marise was silent.

"You've only got to say," he prompted her.

To his intense surprise and her own, Marise began to cry. Tears poured down her cheeks. She flung herself on a sofa and sobbed. "I'm so – so unhappy!"

Garth's face grew slowly red as he looked at her. "I'm sorry for that," he said. "Once I was willing you should be unhappy. I'm past that now. But you needn't be unhappy long. You don't even have to spend another night in Vision House. Your mother – "

"You want me to go," gulped Marise. "You really love Zélie Marks – "

"You're talking in your hat," he sharply cut her short. "You know I don't love Zélie Marks. What Severance said about her and me to-day was disgusting. She and I are friends. She's a good girl and a grand pal. I wouldn't hurt her even for you. And I tell you this, Marise, now that I know – for I do know! – that you won't marry that cad Severance, you can divorce me. But it will have to be done decently. You can go to Reno and live there for a few months with Mrs. Sorel. Then you can free yourself on the grounds that our tempers are incompatible. But no woman's to be lugged in, even a stranger. I won't stand for that. For the sake of Mothereen and my Victoria Cross I won't be dragged in the dirt. I'll not give you what the lawyers call 'cause.' So there you are. Now you know."

But Marise still sobbed. "I don't – don't wish to drag anyone in the dust!" she wailed.

"I'm sure you don't," said Garth, in an impersonal tone, a tone of kind encouragement. "You've changed quite a lot since New York, though the time's been short. You can't measure these things by time! I hoped you'd change. You were an adorable girl, but I told you once that you were spoiled and selfish, and you were – all of that. You weren't a woman. Now you are. I counted a bit on the effect of Mothereen. And I counted a whole lot on the Canyon. They're both worked their spells more or less, I shouldn't wonder. But you haven't changed to me. Not that I ever really dared expect that. But I sort of hoped– at first. I'm not blaming you, though. I took the risk – and let you take it. Now for the next thing."

"Now for – the next thing!" repeated Marise, between sobs; and searched wildly in her gold-mesh bag. "For Heaven's sake lend me a handkerchief," she wept.

Garth lent it, a linen one, not scented as Severance's handkerchief would have been, but fresh and clean-smelling.

"We're still in that cad's room," Garth said, looking round with a frown. "But he won't bother us. And we'd better thrash things out, now we're about it. We must decide where you're to go. You know, Marise, I'm on long leave. I never quite made up my mind whether to go back to my regiment, or chuck the army for good, and stay over here. I thought some day I'd hear a clear call, one way or the other, while there was time to decide. And I knew Mothereen wouldn't long be far off from me, whatever I did. But now I leave it to you to settle the matter for me. I expect I owe you that, for all my sulkiness. If you want to live over on this side, I'll go back to England – my father's country. If you'd like to take up your career there again, rather than you should risk running up against me all the time, I'll resign my commission – as Severance and a lot of fellows like him hoped they could make me do! – settle down in Arizona and – forget the war."

"Forget me, you mean!" said Marise.

His tone changed, and he spoke in a lower voice. "I don't expect ever to forget you, Marise."

"But you'd like to!"

"I'm not so sure of that, in spite of all."

"You will be, when you marry Zélie Marks."

"Zélie Marks again!"

"Or somebody else."

"I shall never marry, Marise. That's as certain as that I'm alive. I haven't any love to give another woman after you. You had it every bit. But that's not an interesting subject to you, is it? Can you make up your mind to-night and answer my question? Shall it be England for you and America for me, or —vice versa?"

"You liked the army, didn't you? You didn't want to give it up."

"I wasn't going to be driven out by Severance and Co. I shouldn't mind so much going of my own accord."

"Wouldn't you like to stay in the Guards for some years anyhow, and reap the reward of what you've done? – coming over here to Vision House now and then on leave, till you're ready to rest and settle down for good?"

"Sounds pretty ideal, as you put it. But I'll be content enough either way. It's for you to decide for me, as things stand. But oh, by the by, I forgot! I'm really rather a rich man, Marise. I've made my fortune three times over, and I've got umpteen thousands more than I need for myself or Mothereen. I want you to have alimony – "

"Oh no!" she exclaimed. "I'm rich too – quite rich, enough."

"But I wish you to take something of mine, don't you understand? And money's the only thing I have that you could possibly care to have."