Out in the World CHAPTER 11.
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"I saw your old friend Madeline on the street, today." The speaker raised his eyes from a book. He was a serious looking man, with hard lips, and gloomy, discontented eyes. The tone in which this remark was uttered, expressed no kind feelings. It was plain, that the "old friend" did not stand high in his regard.
"Ah?" responded his wife, who sat sewing. The husband had been reading to himself, and the wife, while sewing, thinking to herself. There was no light on his face as he spoke, and no light on hers, as she uttered her simple "Ah."
"Yes," said the husband, "and she looked like a crazy woman." There was a covert pleasure in his voice.
"Crazy, Mr. Lawrence!" The large dark eyes, gentle and tender — yet slightly veiled by pensive shadows, lifted themselves quickly.
"Crazy, or something else. She was driving along like a frightened bird!"
"Alone?" said Mrs. Lawrence.
"Yes. All alone. I looked straight into her face — but she didn't notice me. In fact, I don't think she saw anything. There's trouble in her wigwam, I imagine. Why not? Jealousy on the one hand — and free love on the other, are by no means favorable to domestic peace."
"Indeed, Mr. Lawrence, you are unjust to Madeline!" said the wife, in earnest deprecation. "She may be mirthful and thoughtless — fond of admiration and society — but I will stake my life on her purity."
Mr. Lawrence shrugged his shoulders, and looked his doubts.
"How did she appear?" asked Mrs. Lawrence, returning to the fact mentioned by her husband. "Flurried, for one thing. Pale as a ghost for another. Half frightened into the bargain. There's something wrong, I can tell you, Jessie."
"What time was it?"
"A little before dark. I was near the South Ferry, and she had, to all appearance, just come over from Brooklyn. The thought struck me that she might have called here."
"O no. She wasn't here," said Mrs. Lawrence. "And you say she was pale and agitated?"
"Frightened is the true word," answered Mr. Lawrence.
"What can it mean?" Mrs. Lawrence spoke in a troubled voice.
"Simply, that she's reached the end of her tether, and been brought up with a shock. Such things are sure to occur sooner or later. To say the least, Madeline has been forwardand imprudent. The public doesn't soon forget a circumstance like the one that happened with her a year or two ago — how she flirted with a man-about-town, whose impure character was patent to everybody, to the disgust and indignation of her husband, who resented the outrage in a way that she did not soon forget."
"I never believed half of that story," said Mrs. Lawrence.
"You are less credulous than I am, Jessie. The fact is, to my thinking, the half was never told. There must be something very wrong between a man and his young wife, when he leaves her, in anger, at a large party, to make her way home after midnight as best she can."
"The hasty act of a jealous husband should never be held as conclusive against his wife," answered Mrs. Lawrence. "Jealousy has been blind and cruel from the beginning. I know Madeline better than all of you who are so ready to take up an evil report against her. She is a creature of impulse — strong-willed, and wrong-headed at times; but pure and true. It is not right to judge of all dispositions and temperaments by one rule. Minds are as different as faces. The very thing which in one would be an indecorum, in another might be as innocent as the deed of an artless child."
"I was never a believer in Madeline's artlessness," said Mr. Lawrence, "To me, she is a bundle of arts and flirtations. Nothing solid or truthful about her. And I'm not surprised at her being in trouble. How could it be otherwise?"
Mrs. Lawrence understood her husband well enough to know, that, from a spirit of opposition, if for no other reason, he would depreciate Mrs. Jansen as long as she continued the defense; so she kept back what it was still in her heart to say, and taking up the sewing from her lap, went on with her evening's work. Mr. Lawrence did not at the same time resume his book. The pleasure he had found in its pages was not strong enough to draw him quickly back from the pleasure of paining his wife by denouncing her friend — a recreation indulged in by a great many husbands — so, after a brief silence he went on, speaking with a virtuous indignation of manner, which did not deceive his wife, He had a pique against Madeline, and disliked her in consequence — the more, because Mrs. Lawrence would not turn against her.
"The fact is," said he, warming to his pleasant work, "Madeline has taken to bad company."
His wife dropped her needle hand with a startle. A painful expression swept over her face.
"What is your authority for saying this?" she demanded, a low chill of indignation in her tones.
"Common report," answered Mr. Lawrence, coolly.
"What do you mean by common report? I have heard nothing like this against her."
"Men who are about every day hear more than women who stay at home," said Mr. Lawrence. "There is a great deal of hard talk against Mrs. Jansen, and the people with whom she keeps company. They have a free love association at Mrs. Woodbine's; so the story goes."
"I don't like Mrs. Woodbine," said Mrs. Lawrence, "and I've told Madeline, often, that she was neither a sincere friend, nor a safe adviser. But this talk about free love is all a lie."
Mr. Lawrence really enjoyed his wife's excitement. So he answered —
"Very far from being a lie, let me tell you Jessie. I believe every word of the story. It's making a stir in the city. In last Sunday's Mercury, there was an article on the subject so pointed that several individuals were recognized, and their names bandied from lip to lip. 'A bright, dashing young beauty, whose husband would do well to look after her a little more closely' — so the article reads — evidently refers to your friend Madeline."
"Don't, don't say that!" replied Mrs. Lawrence, in painful astonishment. "A woman's reputation is too sacred a thing to be trifled with."
"And, therefore," said he, "a pure woman will not associate with the impure, lest an evil thing be said of her. We judge of people by the company they keep. Birds of a feather, flock together. Similar things attract; dissimilar things repel. If Madeline were really the pure being you imagine her to be, she would keep company only with the pure; the fact that she does not, is evidence against her, and I accept it as conclusive. But, wrong ways always end in trouble to those who walk therein, and she is finding this out. She's had a flare up with her husband, probably. Some kind friend has informed him, no doubt, that his wife is the dashing young beauty referred to in the Mercury. People, you know, always havekind friends ready to tell them the latest bad news."
A servant opened the door, and said — "There's a lady downstairs, ma'am."
"Who is it?" inquired Mrs. Lawrence.
"I think she said Mrs. Jankin, or Mrs. Janton. I asked her over again — but she spoke so low that I can't be certain."
Mr. and Mrs. Lawrence turned, with a slight startle, and looked at each other.
"Don't see her," said the husband, in an undertone.
"Mrs. Jansen, perhaps?" Mrs. Lawrence spoke to the servant.
"Yes, ma'am, I guess that was it," replied the girl.
"Say that I will be down in a moment" —
"Jessie!" Mr. Lawrence littered his wife's name in authoritative remonstrance; but she did not recall her words. The servant went out. As she closed the door, Mr. Lawrence said speaking resolutely —
"You must not see this woman!"
"Why not?" calmly asked his wife, who had already laid aside her work.
"I think reasons enough have been stated here tonight," replied Mr. Lawrence.
"Not satisfactory to my mind," was firmly answered. "You know that I am no summer friend — that when I have faith, it is not easily shaken. My poor friend must be in sore trouble, or she would not come all the way from her home in New York to visit me at this late hour. Of course I shall see her. She can do me no harm, and I may do her much good."
And rising, she moved past her husband with a quiet firmness of manner that he made no effort to oppose, understanding, as he did, the strength of her will when she acted fromlove or duty.
"Why, Madeline! What has happened?" Mrs. Lawrence entered the parlor hurriedly, and stood face to face with her unhappy friend. A faint smile tried, for an instant to form itself on Madeline's lips — but lost itself amid lines of suffering. An effort to speak followed — but only mute signs were visible. Her face was pale and pinched, like the face of one who had been sick.
"What has happened, dear?" Mrs. Lawrence repeated her question in a tenderer voice, as she held tightly her friend's hand. "Have you been sick?" A new thought came, in explanation of this untimely visit and the strange appearance of Madeline. She had been ill, and wandering in mind, had risen and gone away from home without being observed. The thought chilled her with a feeling of alarm.
"Have you been sick?" She asked the question again.
"I am sick — sick! O yes, I am sick, Jessie!" sobbed out Mrs. Jansen, her eyes flooding with tears; and she bent down her face and hid it on the bosom of her friend, who drew an arm tightly around her. She was trembling like a frightened child. As she stood, shrinking down against her, Mrs. Lawrence perceived the tremor of her body growing less, and at the same time noticed the weight increasing, so that she had to brace herself to its support.
"Madeline!" she said, anxiously. But there was no reply.
"Madeline!" she repeated. Even while the name parted her lips, she was grasping her poor friend tightly to keep her from falling to the floor. Drawing her to a sofa, she laid her down, and as her head fell back upon one of the cushions, Mrs. Lawrence saw that she had fainted!
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