Time Will Darken It (42 page)

“I didn’t think anything about it,” Nora said.

“I hear you’re reading law in Mr. King’s office,” Mary Caroline said. “I’m sure you must find it interesting.”

“Yes,” Nora said. Her smile was both vague and lavish with some shining inner pleasure.

“How is your brother?” Mary Caroline asked.

“He’s fine,” Nora said. “I guess he’s fine. He never writes. Nothing in the world would make him write a letter.”

When Nora smiled, Mary Caroline noticed that there was something about the shape of her eyes and the curve of her mouth that was like Randolph. Nora was nice looking, she looked like someone it would be exciting to know, but her face didn’t, of course, make all other faces look flat and commonplace the way his did. There was only this fleeting similarity of expression. Mary Caroline was surprised that she had never seen it before, when it was quite noticeable.

“Do you like the girl he’s engaged to?”

“Engaged?”

“Perhaps I shouldn’t have asked about it. He told me in confidence, but I thought of course that you knew.”

“No,” Nora said kindly. “I’m afraid I don’t even know what girl you’re talking about.”

“There must be some mistake,” Mary Caroline said, colouring. “I must have misunderstood him. But he told me——at least I thought he said he was engaged. It seems to me—I could be mistaken—that he said she was a beautiful girl from New Orleans, whose father was a millionaire.”

“Oh, that one,” Nora said. “No, he’s not engaged to her, and never has been, so far as I know. Did he really tell you that?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t know what makes him tell such terrible lies,” Nora said. “Except that he can’t bear things the way they really are. Do you have any brothers?”

Mary Caroline shook her head.

“I’ve often wished that I had another brother besides Randolph,” Nora said. “Because as it is, there’s no basis of comparison. I don’t know whether the way Randolph acts is usual with boys or not.”

Nora could have told Mary Caroline how to get even with Randolph, and have led her to the holly tree from which the arrow would have to be fashioned that slew the darling of the gods. What Randolph could not endure was indifference. All Mary Caroline would have had to do was not to be touched by him, not to care in the least whether he lived or died, and he would have moved heaven and earth to make her care.

“I know lots of boys at school,” Mary Caroline said, “and I assure you that Randolph isn’t at all like them.”

“Probably not,” Nora said, patting a pillow into shape. “But sometimes I wish he weren’t so vain.”

“Is he vain?” Mary Caroline asked, sitting forward in her chair.

“Terribly.”

“Well, I’ve never seen that side of him,” Mary Caroline said. “But I suppose it’s hard not to be vain if you look like Randolph. I’m glad you told me. I feel I understand him better. And it’s nice, don’t you think, when people who seem so perfect in every way turn out to have some small fault? It makes you like them all the more.”

As a result, apparently, of this remark, the vague and yet shining smile was once more interposed between them.

From where Mary Caroline was sitting, through the parlour
window, she saw a rig drive up and stop in front of the Kings’ house. She leaned closer to the lace curtain and then said, “It’s Dr. Seymour. Is somebody sick at the Kings’?”

“Mrs. King,” Nora said gravely.

“Oh dear,” Mary Caroline said. “Nobody told me.”

“She has to stay in bed all the time, from now until the baby comes.”

“What a
shame
!” Mary Caroline said. “I must go and see her.”

Feeling that she had already said more than she should about Randolph to his sister, Mary Caroline began to talk about the glee club cantata. She stayed until it began to get dark outside, and Nora went with her to the door. She had heard very little of what Mary Caroline said during the last half hour, and she had no idea that part of an undying devotion had been transferred from Randolph to her.

“I’ll call you in a day or so and perhaps we can do something together,” Mary Caroline said.

Watching Mary Caroline go off into the twilight and the rain, Nora said
You must not think I don’t appreciate all you have done for me. If I don’t speak of it, it’s because …

Deeply committed to a conversation with Austin King that never ended, Nora did not forget that he had a wife, but she found no room in her heart for jealousy. Cousin Martha was married to him and that was all. She had no interest in his work, no curiosity about what went on in his mind. For that he turned to Nora, who gave him her complete and rapt attention, no matter where she was or what claims the outside world made on her.
I realize perfectly that there are things which I cannot possibly say to you, which you do not wish to hear
, she said as she shepherded the children past the dangerous inter-urban crossing.
I think I have discovered something important
, she said as she put the pots and pans away in the cupboard.
No, I didn’t actually discover it. You directed my thinking and there it was.… You may have friends who are
nearer and dearer to you
, she said to the image in the mirror while she brushed and braided her hair,
but I doubt if there is anyone who cares more deeply about your happiness than I do.… I hear everything you say, everything
, she said, and let the coffee boil over on the stove.

11

“I appreciate your thoughtfulness in coming to tell me,” Martha King said. “But you and I know, Miss Ewing, that Mr. King isn’t that kind of a man.”

This statement, which didn’t follow logically what Miss Ewing had just been saying, confused and dismayed her. She was not in the habit of paying social calls on Mrs. King, and the long wait downstairs had given her ample time to consider whether it wouldn’t have been better not to come. If she had known that Mrs. King was not well, that she would be received in Mrs. King’s bedroom, her courage would have failed her. It was sustained now by the belief that what she was doing was for the best interests of the firm of King and Holby. Leaning forward anxiously, she said, “Of course, there’s no one like Mr. King. That’s why I was so surprised when he called her into his office and——”

What other strange visions Miss Ewing’s eyes had seen lately—the synagogue of Satan, the four beasts full of eyes before and behind and within, hail and fire mingled with blood and all green grass burnt up, the star that is called Wormwood falling from heaven, and the air darkened by reason of the smoke of the pit—their unnatural glitter attested to.

“Naturally I’m sorry to learn that people have been talking about him and Miss Potter,” Martha said kindly. “But it’s
something he is in no way responsible for. People have to gossip and if they can’t find something that’s true to gossip about, they’re likely to make something up. I’m sure you’ll do everything in your power to stop it. What a lovely umbrella! Is it new?”

“It was my mother’s,” Miss Ewing said, her attention shifting helplessly to the carved umbrella handle, in the likeness of a monkey’s head with the two paws covering the mouth. Though Martha King was lying in bed, she managed to convey that her guest had stayed as long as politeness would allow. Miss Ewing rose and, further dismayed by the glimpse of herself which she caught in the dressing-table mirror (she certainly had no intention of being a busybody and a meddler), took leave. Outside in the hall, she made a wrong turning and soon afterward found herself face to face with the backstairs. Rather than run the risk of having to stop and explain this social error if she retraced her steps, Miss Ewing went on, arrived in the pantry, and, trembling with agitation, eventually found her way out of the labyrinth.

“I don’t think anybody would believe her stories,” Martha said when she finished telling Austin about her visitor that evening, “except that she isn’t the only person who has been talking. You said it would cause a certain amount of talk and it has. Mrs. Jouette felt obliged to warn me of what people—mostly Mrs. Jouette, I have no doubt—are saying. I also heard it from Mrs. Ellis.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Austin asked.

“Because I didn’t want to worry you. I knew you’d take it seriously, even though it’s so preposterous, and a week from now they’ll be gossiping about somebody else. But Miss Ewing’s stories were really quite vicious. She’s let her imagination run away with her, and if she’s told anyone else what she told me this afternoon——”

“Let them talk,” Austin said.

“It can’t do us any harm,” Martha said slowly, “but what about Nora? If being in your office is going to give her a bad reputation——”

“But how
can
they talk that way about her?”

“They can and they will as long as Nora behaves as she does,” Martha said.

“What do you mean?”

“Apparently she tries very hard to pretend that she’s simply a friend of the family. But she mentions your name a good deal oftener than there is any need for, and the way she looks at you as you walk through the outer office is enough under the circumstances to convict you both. If she shouted her love from the housetops, people wouldn’t be any quicker to believe the worst.”

“Oh,” Austin said. And then, “I suppose if she gives up her plan of becoming a lawyer, and it’s understood that she isn’t to come to the office any more, or here, and if she manages to avoid speaking to me when we happen to meet somewhere, then they’d be satisfied?”

“It would help,” Martha said.

“They can’t hurt Nora,” Austin said.

12

“Come in, come in,” Austin called cheerfully, and to his surprise, Dave Purdy said, “Hello, Austin, how are you?” and walked into Mr. Holby’s office instead.

A few minutes later Miss Stiefel brought Austin some letters to sign. Unable to find a trained law secretary, he had taken a girl out of business college. Her typing was adequate, but not to be compared, of course, with the perfection of Miss
Ewing’s spacing and paragraphing. Miss Stiefel was pale, with blue eyes, and hair and eyebrows and eyelashes so blonde that they seemed almost white. Her face, just now, indicated that she knew more than it was expedient to show.