It was near midnight before the manifest fatigue of the ladies
overcame my selfish desire to prolong as much as possible this most
interesting visit. Meteorological science in Mars has been carried to
high perfection; and the director warned me that but three or four
equally favourable opportunities might offer in the course of the next
half year.
Time passed on, marked by no very important incident, while I made
acquaintance with manners and with men around me, neither one nor the
other worth further description. Nothing occurred to confirm the
alarms Davilo constantly repeated.
I called the ladies one day into the outer grounds to see a new
carriage, capable, according to its arrangement, of containing from
two to eight persons, and a balloon of great size and new construction
which Davilo had urgently counselled me to procure, as capable of
sudden use in some of those daily thickening perils, of which I could
see no other sign than occasional evidence that my steps were watched
and dogged. Both vehicles enlisted the interest and curiosity of
Eunané and her companions. Eveena, after examining with as much
attention as was due to the trouble I took to explain it, the
construction of the carriage, concentrated her interest and
observation upon the balloon, the sight of which evidently impressed
her. When we had returned to the peristyle, and the rest had
dispersed, I said—
"I see you apprehend some part of my reasons for purchasing the
balloon. The carriage will take us to-morrow to Altasfe (a town some
ten miles distant). 'Shopping' is an amusement so gratifying to all
women on Earth, from the veiled favourites of an Eastern seraglio to
the very unveiled dames of Western ballrooms, that I suppose the
instinct must be native to the sex wherever women and trade co-exist.
If you have a single feminine folly, you will enjoy this more than you
will own. If you are, as they complain, absolutely faultless, you will
enjoy with me the pleasure of the girls in plaguing one after another
all the traders of Altasfe:" and with these words I placed in her
hands a packet of the thin metallic plates constituting their
currency. Her extreme and unaffected surprise was amusing to witness.
"What am I to do with this?" she inquired, counting carefully the
uncounted pile, in a manner which at once dispelled my impression that
her surprise was due to childish ignorance of its value.
"Whatever you please, Madonna; whatever can please you and the
others."
"But," she remonstrated, "this is more than all our dowries for
another year to come; and—forgive me for repeating what you seem
purposely to forget—I cannot cast the shadow between my equals and
the master. Would you so mortify
me
as to make me take from Eunané's
hand, for example, what should come from yours?"
"You are right, Madonna, now as always," I owned; wincing at the name
she used, invariably employed by the others, but one I never endured
from her. Her looks entreated pardon for the form of the implied
reproof, as I resumed the larger part of the money she held out to me,
forcing back the smaller into her reluctant hands. "But what has the
amount of your dowries to do with the matter? The contracts are meant,
I suppose, to secure the least to which a wife has a right, not to fix
her natural share in her husband's wealth. You need not fear, Eveena;
the Prince has made us rich enough to spend more than we shall care
for."
"I don't understand you," she replied with her usual gentle frankness
and simple logical consistency. "It pleases you to say 'we' and 'ours'
whenever you can so seem to make me part of yourself; and I love to
hear you, for it assures me each time that you still hold me tightly
as I cling to you. But you know those are only words of kindness.
Since you returned my father's gift, the dowry you then doubled is my
only share of what is yours, and it is more than enough."
"Do you mean that women expect and receive no more: that they do not
naturally share in a man's surplus wealth?"
While I spoke Enva had joined us, and, resting on the cushions at my
feet, looked curiously at the metallic notes in Eveena's hand.
"You do not," returned the latter, "pay more foe what you have
purchased because you have grown richer. You do not share your wealth
even with those on whose care it chiefly depends."
"Yes, I do, Eveena. But I know what you mean. Their share is settled
and is not increased. But you will not tell me that this affords any
standard for household dealings; that a wife's share in her husband's
fortune is really bounded by the terms of the marriage contract?"
"Will you let Enva answer you?" asked Eveena. "She looks more ready
than I feel to reply."
This little incident was characteristic in more ways than one.
Eveena's feelings, growing out of the realities of our relation, were
at issue with and perplexed her convictions founded on the theory and
practice of her world. Not yet doubting the justice of the latter, she
instinctively shrank from their application to ourselves. She was
glad, therefore, to let Enva state plainly and directly a doctrine
which, from her own lips, would have pained as well as startled me. On
her side, Enva, though encouraged to bear her part in conversation,
was too thoroughly imbued with the same ideas to interpose unbidden.
As she would have said, a wife deserved the sandal for speaking
without leave; nor—experience notwithstanding—would she think it
safe to interrupt in my presence a favourite so pointedly honoured as
Eveena. 'She waited, therefore, till my eyes gave the permission which
hers had asked.
"Why should you buy anything twice over, Clasfempta, whether it be a
wife or an ambâ? A girl sells her society for the best price her
attractions will command. These attractions seldom increase. You
cannot give her less because you care less for them; but how can she
expect more?"
"I know, Enva, that the marriage contract here is an open bargain and
sale, as among my race it is generally a veiled one. But, the bargain
made, does it really govern the after relation? Do men really spend
their wealth wholly on themselves, and take no pleasure in the
pleasure of women?"
"Generally, I believe," Enva replied, "they fancy they have paid too
much for their toy before they have possessed it long, and had rather
buy a new one than make much of those they have. Wives seldom look on
the increase of a man's wealth as a gain to themselves. Of course you
like to see us prettily dressed, while you think us worth looking at
in ourselves. But as a rule our own income provides for that; and
we
at any rate are better off than almost any women outside the Palace.
The Prince did not care, and knew it would not matter to you, what he
gave to make his gift worthy of him and agreeable to you. Perhaps,"
she added, "he wished to make it secure by offering terms too good to
be thrown away by any foolish rebellion against a heavier hand or a
worse temper than usual. You hardly understand yet half the advantages
you possess."
The latent sarcasm of the last remark did not need the look of
pretended fear that pointed it. If Enva professed to resent my
inadequate appreciation of the splendid beauty bestowed on me by the
royal favour more than any possible ill-usage for which she supposed
herself compensated in advance, it was not for me to put her sincerity
to proof.
"Once bought, then, wives are not worth pleasing? It is not worth
while to purchase happy faces, bright smiles, and willing kisses now
and then at a cost the giver can scarcely feel?"
Enva's look now was half malicious, half kindly, and wholly comical;
but she answered gravely, with a slight imitation of my own tone—
"Can you not imagine, or make Eveena tell you, Clasfempta, why women
once purchased think it best to give smiles and kisses freely to one
who can command their tears? Or do you fancy that their smiles are
more loyal and sincere when won by kindness than...."
"By fear? Sweeter, Enva, at any rate. Well, if I do not offend your
feelings, I need not hesitate to disregard another of your customs."
She received her share willingly and gratefully enough, but her smile
and kiss were so evidently given to order, that they only testified to
the thorough literality of her statement. Leenoo, Eiralé, and Elfé
followed her example with characteristic exactness. Equally
characteristic was the conduct of the others. Eunané kept aloof till
called, and then approached with an air of sullen reluctance, as if
summoned to receive a reprimand rather than a favour. Not a little
amused, I affected displeasure in my turn, till the window of her
chamber closed behind us, and her ill-humour was forgotten in
wondering alarm. Offered in private, the kiss and smile given and not
demanded, the present was accepted with frank affectionate gratitude.
Eivé took her share in pettish shyness, waiting the moment when she
might mingle unobserved with her childlike caresses the childish
reproach—
"If you can buy kisses, Clasfempta, you don't want mine. And if you
fancy I sell them, you shall have no more."
I saw Davilo in the morning before we started. After some conversation
on business, he said—
"And pardon a suggestion which I make, not as in charge of your
affairs, but as responsible to our supreme authority for your safety.
No correspondence should pass from your household unscrutinised; and
if there be such correspondence, I must ask you to place in my hand,
for the purpose of our quest, not any message, but some of the slips
on which messages have been written. This may probably furnish
precisely that tangible means of relation with some one acquainted
with the conspiracy for which we have sought in vain."
My unwillingness to meddle with feminine correspondence was the less
intelligible to him that, as the master alone commands the household
telegraph, he knew that it must have passed through my hands. I
yielded at last to his repeated urgency that a life more precious than
mine was involved in any danger to myself, so far as to promise the
slips required, to furnish a possible means of
rapport
between the
clairvoyante
and the enemy.
I returned to the house in grave thought. Eunané. corresponded by the
telegraph with some schoolmates; Eivé, I fancied, with three or four
of those ladies with whom, accompanying me on my visits, she had made
acquaintance. But I hated the very thought of domestic suspicion, and,
adhering to my original resolve, refused to entertain a distrust that
seemed ill-founded and far-fetched. If there had been treachery, it
would be impossible to obtain any letters that might have been
preserved without resorting to a compulsion which, since both Eunané
and Eivé had written in the knowledge that their letters passed
unread, would seem like a breach of faith. I asked, however, simply,
and giving no reason, for the production of any papers received and
preserved by either. Eivé, with her usual air of simplicity, brought
me the two or three which, she said, were all she had kept. Eunané
replied with a petulance almost amounting to refusal, which to some
might have suggested suspicion; but which to me seemed the very last
course that a culprit would have pursued. To give needless offence
while conscious of guilt would have been the very wantonness of
reckless temper.
"Bite your tongue, and keep your letters," I said sharply.
Turning to Eivé and looking at the addresses of hers, none of which
bore the name of any one who could be suspected of the remotest
connection with a political plot—
"Give me which of these you please," I said, taking from her hand that
which she selected and marking it. "Now erase the writing yourself and
give me the paper."
This incident gave Eunané leisure to recover her temper. She stood for
a few moments ashamed perhaps, but, as usual, resolute to abide by the
consequences of a fault. When she found that my last word was spoken,
her mood changed at once.
"I did not quite like to give you Velna's letters. They are foolish,
like mine; and besides—But I never supposed you would let me
refuse. What you won't make me do, I must do of my own accord."
Womanly reasoning, most unlike "woman's reasons!" She brought, with
unaffected alacrity, a collection of tafroo-slips whose addresses bore
out her account of their character. Taking the last from the bundle, I
bade her erase its contents.
"No," she said, "that is the one I least liked to show. If you will
not read it, please follow my hand as I read, and see for yourself how
far I have misused your trust."
"I never doubted your good faith, Eunané"—But she had begun to read,
pointing with her finger as she went on. At one sentence hand and
voice wavered a little without apparent reason. "I shall," wrote her
school-friend, some half year her junior, "make my appearance at the
next inspection. I wish the Camptâ, had left you here till now; we
might perhaps have contrived to pass into the same household."
"A very innocent wish, and very natural," I said, in answer to the
look, half inquiring, half shy, with which Eunané watched the effect
of her words. I could not now use the precaution in her case, which it
had somehow seemed natural to adopt with Eivé, of marking the paper
returned for erasure. On her part, Eunané thrust into my hand the
whole bundle as they were, and I was forced myself to erase, by an
electro-chemical process which leaves no trace of writing, the words
of that selected. The absence of any mark on the second paper served
sufficiently to distinguish the two when, of course without stating
from whom I received them, I placed, them in Davilo's hands.
When we were ready to leave the peristyle for the carriage, I observed
that Eunané alone was still unveiled, while the others wore their
cloaks of down and the thick veils, without which no lady may present
herself to the public eye.