The Dust [14]
understand," she exclaimed passionately. And the light in her eyes, the color in her cheeks, restored to her for the moment the beauty of her youth that was almost gone.
"Understand what?" inquired he in a tone of gentle mockery.
"Love. You are all ambition--all self control. You can be affectionate--God knows, you have been to me, Fred. But love you know nothing about--nothing."
His was the smile a man gives when in earnest and wishing to be thought jesting--or when in jest and wishing to be thought in earnest.
"You mean Josephine? Oh, yes, I suppose you do care for her in a way--in a nice, conventional way. She is a fine handsome piece--just the sort to fill the position of wife to a man like you. She's sweet and charming, she appreciates, she flatters you. I'm sure she loves you as much as a GIRL knows how to love. But it's all so conventional, so proper. Your position--her money. You two are of the regulation type even in that you're suited to each other in height and figure. Everybody'll say, `What a fine couple--so well matched!' "
"Maybe YOU don't understand," said Norman.
"If Josephine were poor and low-born--weren't one of us--and all that--would you have her?"
"I'm sure I don't know," was his prompt and amused answer. "I can only say that I know what I want, she being what she is."
Ursula shook her head. "I have only to see you and her together to know that you at least don't understand love."
"It might be well if YOU didn't," said Norman dryly. "You might be less unhappy--and Clayton less uneasy."
"Ah, but I can't help myself. Don't you see it in me, Fred? I'm not a fool. Yet see what a fool I act."
"Spoiled child--that's all. No self-control."
"You despise everyone who isn't as strong as you." She looked at him intently. "I wonder if you ARE as self-controlled as you imagine. Sometimes I wish you'd get a lesson. Then you'd be more sympathetic. But it isn't likely you will--not through a woman. Oh, they're such pitifully easy game for a man like you. But then men are the same way with you--quite as easy. You get anything you want. . . . You're really going to stick to Josephine?"
He nodded. "It's time for me to settle down."
"Yes--I think it is," she went on thoughtfully. "I can hardly believe you're to marry. Of course, she's the grand prize. Still--I never imagined you'd come in and surrender. I guess you DO care for her."
"Why else should I marry?" argued he. "She's got nothing I need--except herself, Ursula."
"What IS it you see in her?"
"What you see--what everyone sees," replied Fred, with quiet, convincing enthusiasm. "What no one could help seeing. As you say, she's the grand prize."
"Yes, she is sweet and handsome--and intelligent --very superior, without making others feel that they're outclassed. Still--there's something lacking--not in her perhaps, but in you. You have it for her--she's crazy about you. But she hasn't it for you."
"What?"
"I can't tell you. It isn't a thing that can be put into words."
"Then it doesn't exist."
"Oh, yes it does," cried Ursula. "If the engagement were to be broken--or if anything were to happen to her--why, you'd get over it--would go on as if nothing had happened. If she didn't fit in with your plans and ambitions, she'd be sacrificed so quick she'd not know what had taken off her head. But if you felt what I mean--then you'd give up everything--do the wildest, craziest things."
"What nonsense!" scoffed Norman. "I can im- agine myself making a fool of myself about a woman as easily as about anything else. But I can't imagine myself playing the fool for anything whatsoever."
There was mysterious fire in Ursula's absent eyes. "You remember me as a girl--how mercenary I was-- how near I came to marrying Cousin Jake?"
"I saved you from that."
"Yes--and for what? I fell in love."
"And out again."
"I was deceived in Clayton--deceived myself-- naturally. How is a woman to know, without experience?"
"Oh, I'm not criticising," said the brother.
"Understand what?" inquired he in a tone of gentle mockery.
"Love. You are all ambition--all self control. You can be affectionate--God knows, you have been to me, Fred. But love you know nothing about--nothing."
His was the smile a man gives when in earnest and wishing to be thought jesting--or when in jest and wishing to be thought in earnest.
"You mean Josephine? Oh, yes, I suppose you do care for her in a way--in a nice, conventional way. She is a fine handsome piece--just the sort to fill the position of wife to a man like you. She's sweet and charming, she appreciates, she flatters you. I'm sure she loves you as much as a GIRL knows how to love. But it's all so conventional, so proper. Your position--her money. You two are of the regulation type even in that you're suited to each other in height and figure. Everybody'll say, `What a fine couple--so well matched!' "
"Maybe YOU don't understand," said Norman.
"If Josephine were poor and low-born--weren't one of us--and all that--would you have her?"
"I'm sure I don't know," was his prompt and amused answer. "I can only say that I know what I want, she being what she is."
Ursula shook her head. "I have only to see you and her together to know that you at least don't understand love."
"It might be well if YOU didn't," said Norman dryly. "You might be less unhappy--and Clayton less uneasy."
"Ah, but I can't help myself. Don't you see it in me, Fred? I'm not a fool. Yet see what a fool I act."
"Spoiled child--that's all. No self-control."
"You despise everyone who isn't as strong as you." She looked at him intently. "I wonder if you ARE as self-controlled as you imagine. Sometimes I wish you'd get a lesson. Then you'd be more sympathetic. But it isn't likely you will--not through a woman. Oh, they're such pitifully easy game for a man like you. But then men are the same way with you--quite as easy. You get anything you want. . . . You're really going to stick to Josephine?"
He nodded. "It's time for me to settle down."
"Yes--I think it is," she went on thoughtfully. "I can hardly believe you're to marry. Of course, she's the grand prize. Still--I never imagined you'd come in and surrender. I guess you DO care for her."
"Why else should I marry?" argued he. "She's got nothing I need--except herself, Ursula."
"What IS it you see in her?"
"What you see--what everyone sees," replied Fred, with quiet, convincing enthusiasm. "What no one could help seeing. As you say, she's the grand prize."
"Yes, she is sweet and handsome--and intelligent --very superior, without making others feel that they're outclassed. Still--there's something lacking--not in her perhaps, but in you. You have it for her--she's crazy about you. But she hasn't it for you."
"What?"
"I can't tell you. It isn't a thing that can be put into words."
"Then it doesn't exist."
"Oh, yes it does," cried Ursula. "If the engagement were to be broken--or if anything were to happen to her--why, you'd get over it--would go on as if nothing had happened. If she didn't fit in with your plans and ambitions, she'd be sacrificed so quick she'd not know what had taken off her head. But if you felt what I mean--then you'd give up everything--do the wildest, craziest things."
"What nonsense!" scoffed Norman. "I can im- agine myself making a fool of myself about a woman as easily as about anything else. But I can't imagine myself playing the fool for anything whatsoever."
There was mysterious fire in Ursula's absent eyes. "You remember me as a girl--how mercenary I was-- how near I came to marrying Cousin Jake?"
"I saved you from that."
"Yes--and for what? I fell in love."
"And out again."
"I was deceived in Clayton--deceived myself-- naturally. How is a woman to know, without experience?"
"Oh, I'm not criticising," said the brother.