The Avalanche - Page 55/95

And this seemed to him an ideal arrangement!

II

When they left the table and walked through the more luxurious part of

the court, they saw Madame Delano alone and enthroned as usual in the

largest but most upright of the armchairs. And as ever she watched under

her fat drooping eyelids the passing throng of smartly dressed women,

hurrying men, sauntering, staring tourists. Here and there under the

palms sat small groups of men, leaning forward, talking in low earnest

tones, their faces, whether of the keen, narrow, nervous, or of the

fleshy, heavy, square-jawed, unimaginative, aggressive, ruthless type,

equally expressing that intense concentration of mind which later would

make their luncheon a living torment.

Helene threw herself into a chair beside her mother and fondled her hand.

Ruyler noted that after Madame Delano's surprised smile of welcome she

darted a keen glance of apprehension from one to the other, and her tight

little mouth relaxed uncontrollably in its supporting walls of flesh. But

she lowered her lids immediately and looked approvingly at her daughter,

who in her new gown of gray, with gray hat and gloves and shoes, was a

dainty and refreshing picture of Spring. Then she looked at Ruyler with

what he fancied was an expression of relief.

"I wonder you do not do this oftener," she said.

"I never know until the last moment when or where I shall be able to take

lunch, and then I often have to meet three or four men. Such is life in

the city of your adoption."

"There is no city in the world where women are so abominably idle and

useless!" And at the moment, whatever Madame Delano may have been, her

voice and mien were those of a virtuous and outraged bourgeoisie. "You

are all very well, Ruyler, but if I had known what the life of a rich

young woman was in this town, I'd have married Helene to a serious young

man of her own class in Rouen; a husband who would have given her

companionship in a normal civilized life, who would have taken care of

her as every young wife should be taken care of, and who would have

insisted upon at least two children as a matter of course. With us The

Family is a religion. Here it is an incident where it is not an

accident."

Ruyler, who was still standing, looked down at his mother-in-law with

profound interest. He had never heard her express herself at such length

before. "Do you think I fail as a husband?" he asked humbly. "God knows

I'd like to give my wife about two-thirds of my time, but at least I have

perfect confidence in her. I should soon cease to care for a wife I was

obliged to watch."