Horn for the Leightons filled him with indignation toward her,toward himself.There was no reason why he should not have ignored them as he had done;but there was a feeling.It was his nature to be careless,and he had been spoiled into recklessness;he neglected everybody,and only remembered them when it suited his whim or his convenience;but he fiercely resented the inattentions of others toward himself.He had no scruple about breaking an engagement or failing to keep an appointment;he made promises without thinking of their fulfilment,and not because he was a faithless person,but because he was imaginative,and expected at the time to do what he said,but was fickle,and so did not.As most of his shortcomings were of a society sort,no great harm was done to anybody else.He had contracted somewhat the circle of his acquaintance by what some people called his rudeness,but most people treated it as his oddity,and were patient with it.One lady said she valued his coming when he said he would come because it had the charm of the unexpected."Only it shows that it isn't always the unexpected that happens,"she explained.
It did not occur to him that his behavior was immoral;he did not realize that it was creating a reputation if not a character for him.While we are still young we do not realize that our actions have this effect.It seems to us that people will judge us from what we think and feel.Later we find out that this is impossible;perhaps we find it out too late;some of us never find it out at all.
In spite of his shame about the Leightons,Beaton had no present intention of looking them up or sending Mrs.Horn their address.As a matter of fact,he never did send it;but he happened to meet Mr.Wetmore and his wife at the restaurant where he dined,and he got it of the painter for himself.He did not ask him how Miss Leighton was getting on;but Wetmore launched out,with Alma for a tacit text,on the futility of women generally going in for art."Even when they have talent they've got too much against them.Where a girl doesn't seem very strong,like Miss Leighton,no amount of chic is going to help."His wife disputed him on behalf of her ***,as women always do.
"No,Dolly,"he persisted;"she'd better be home milking the cows and leading the horse to water."Do you think she'd better be up till two in the morning at balls and going all day to receptions and luncheons?""Oh,guess it isn't a question of that,even if she weren't drawing.
You knew them at home,"he said to Beaton.
"Yes."
"I remember.Her mother said you suggested me.Well,the girl has some notion of it;there's no doubt about that.But--she's a woman.The trouble with these talented girls is that they're all woman.If they weren't,there wouldn't be much chance for the men,Beaton.But we've got Providence on our own side from the start.I'm able to watch all their inspirations with perfect composure.I know just how soon it's going to end in nervous breakdown.Somebody ought to marry them all and put them out of their misery.""And what will you do with your students who are married already?"his wife said.She felt that she had let him go on long enough.
"Oh,they ought to get divorced."
"You ought to be ashamed to take their money if that's what you think of them.""My dear,I have a wife to support."
Beaton intervened with a question."Do you mean that Miss Leighton isn't standing it very well?""How do I know?She isn't the kind that bends;she's the kind that breaks."After a little silence Mrs.Wetmore asked,"Won't you come home with us,Mr.Beaton?""Thank you;no.I have an engagement."
"I don't see why that should prevent you,"said Wetmore."But you always were a punctilious cuss.Well!"Beaton lingered over his cigar;but no one else whom he knew came in,and he yielded to the threefold impulse of conscience,of curiosity,of inclination,in going to call at the Leightons'.He asked for the ladies,and the maid showed him into the parlor,where he found Mrs.
Leighton and Miss Woodburn.
The widow met him with a welcome neatly marked by resentment;she meant him to feel that his not coming sooner had been noticed.Miss Woodburn bubbled and gurgled on,and did what she could to mitigate his punishment,but she did not feel authorized to stay it,till Mrs.
Leighton,by studied avoidance of her daughter's name,obliged Beaton to ask for her.Then Miss Woodburn caught up her work,and said,"Ah'll go and tell her,Mrs.Leighton."At the top of the stairs she found Alma,and Alma tried to make it seem as if she had not been standing there.
"Mah goodness,chald!there's the handsomest young man asking for you down there you evah saw.Alh told you'mothah Ah would come up fo'you.""What--who is it?"
"Don't you know?But bo'could you?He's got the most beautiful eyes,and he wea's his hai'in a bang,and he talks English like it was something else,and his name's Mr.Beaton.""Did he-ask for me?"said Alma,with a dreamy tone.She put her hand on the stairs rail,and a little shiver ran over her.
"Didn't I tell you?Of coase he did!And you ought to go raght down if you want to save the poo'fellah's lahfe;you'mothah's just freezin'him to death."V.
"She is?"cried Alma."Tchk!"She flew downstairs,and flitted swiftly into the room,and fluttered up to Beaton,and gave him a crushing hand-shake.
