 This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Paul Hansen. Thoroughly Ruxton by Philip Viral-Migales. Chapter 1. A Sunset. At the end of a perfect day in June with indolent warmth and perfume in the air, New Haven Harbour was a theatre of colour, life and song. The sun splashed the dancing tides with gold, vermilion, liquid fire and blue. A hundred rose-white wings of yachts, canyons and cat boats were lifted gracefully against the impurpling shadows as they glided to and fro in the paths of pleasure. And a crew of lusty college youths sang tuneful melodies which floated on the lazy breeze and charming harmony with hour and scene and season. It was one of those evenings perilous throughout the world in which the very atmosphere becomes the subtlest of love's filters and youth rises gladly to the draught. Among the winged watercraft was one particularly striking sloop, fast parting the ripples of amethyst and green as she slipped straight homeward toward the landing stage, which was still half a mile to the lee. It was not that the sloop was extra-large, it was merely that her sails were gorgeously tinted in the manner of boats that ply the waterways of Venice. It was a wonderful tint of orange she spread against the sky with a strange device and gold far up in the peak of her canvas. In the glory of the sun's last riot of color she seemed some fragment of the sea and sky's mosaic, blown adrift upon it all and bearing away to the green of the wooded shores. And, as if to complete her perfections in the scene, her slender red tiller lay snugly in the palm of a girl of exceptional beauty. It was thoroughly ruckston, bare of arm and bare of head with her eyes gazing straight past Galard, sitting near to the landing stage for which she was skillfully heading. What a marvel of colors she presented. Her hair was gold, absolute gold, of astonishing luxuriance and luster. Her eyes were the deepest of chocolate brown. Her brows were almost black and arched with exquisite lightness of outline. In her cheeks glowed the warmth of a soft, red rose against a white rose tint of neck and chin. Her lips, which out-reddened the sun's at its own vermilion, were slightly parted over teeth of daintiest regularity and pearliness. Her costume of gold-brown Pongee silk, with a tiny crimson tie, found the most engaging completeness in her little red loka shoes near the big shining brown ones of Galard. The boat was Galard's Tigris. Thurley had sailed it before, while he as now had sat there to watch her in his calm, an emotional manner nodding approval from time to time with an air of conceited lordship overall. Perhaps it was something in this lordship attitude that appealed to Thurley's nature. She was capable, fearless, and self-reliant herself, when such a woman loves in a man the strong primordial assumption of ownership. She had, however, loved him from the first, and five long months of consent in her heart had effaced all possibility of analysis, either of her own emotions or of Galard's character. She was happy in his presence, particularly happy here this evening, and that was almost enough. The fact that no actual pledge had passed between them was the least of her negligible worries. By a thousand signs she felt secure in possession of his love. Despite the fact that her gaze was apparently fixed on the shoreward course, she was watching him now and thrilling anew as she felt his frequent glances fall upon her. She met one such look with all the glory of her eyes, giving him generously the fondness, the admiration, the confession of her inmost self, while a warm tide of color rose to her face from the quick, happy tripping of her heart. He was handsome, big, and athletic, a smooth-shaved, blue-eyed fellow of robust health and color, with the blackest of hair and the straightest, most perfect of features. In his white flannel suit, immaculate and absolutely faultless, he fitted a niche on his spotless sloop as a diamond fits in its setting. He was possibly a trifle-over-perfect, a conditioned due perhaps to lifelong familiarity with wealth and all its tendencies to focus one's attentions on oneself, but thoroughly was gratified thoroughly in all the demands of her being. He was a splendid product of the very latest moment she loved him and Heaven's. What a setting for love was this tropic water, air, and sky. A cat-boat crowded full of Eli's joyous sons went frothing by not twenty yards away. With one accord, the boyish skipper in his company swung off their caps to Thurley, calling out in gladness of the meeting, and all were repaid by her friendly smile, despite their deep-laid envy of Gaylord. They were gone in a moment, yet in Thurley's heart they left exaltation. She was honestly glad to be popular, glad to be admired, and glad to know what homage she declined from day to day in her absolute devotion to himself. The more she could bring him of these gifts refused, the more precious she would be in his sight, and to be to him dearer than all the world, to be as priceless in his daily estimation as he had become to herself. This was the dream for which, at last, she had given the kiss that symbolized to her the custody of all her sacred being. Yet the look she beheld in Gaylord's face when the boys had surged by in their course was needlessly inscrutable, even to her unexacting mind. But the end of the cruise was at hand. She guided the sloop with automatic skill, doubling round to come up in the wind and so make the landing at the stage. Then at last she observed as they neared their goal the tall slender figure of Major John Phipps as he lifted his hat and salute. If a momentary twinge of disappointment occasioned by Gaylord's neglect to snatch a moment in which to murmur some sweet bit of nothingness all for themselves slightly colored the joy of the outing's end, she cast it aside with other trifling flaws and the deep lying pleasure of the hour. The sloop knows quietly up beside the planks and was caught by the jacky there in charge. The Major his face aglow beneath his crown of snow-white hair and overhanging brows stepped like the various young gallant to the rail to offer a hand for Thurley's disembarking. "'By Pollux,' he said, "'you manage a boat like a mast, Ms. Russell, yes you do, I swear. I've been watching, watching for the last fifteen minutes. Superb! How are you, Acton? How do you do?' "'Okay,' responded Gaylord succinctly, "'thanks.' Thurley gave one hand to Gaylord and the other to the Major and bounded out upon the stage. She was smiling and genuine pleasure. "'It's the tigress you find superb,' she said, superbly trained and tamed. "'But thank you, Major Phipps. I shall treasure your compliment most highly.' "'I meant it, Miss Thurley. I meant it all,' declared the Major earnestly. "'Let me add, and proof of my sincerity. Then I'm looking out for a clever young woman to steer the course of my literary labours down at my New York headquarters. And I said to myself, as I saw you bring in the tigress, "'Now, there's the young woman for the business.' "'I did, by Pollux.' I said so emphatically.' Gaylord was looking at him stonily. Thurley slightly colored white. "'But what an idea!' "'Excellent, I call it excellent,' continued the Major. "'Someone said you're teaching French and German here, Miss Thurley. Limited field, and probably quite inadequate remuneration for any young woman of your ability, takes brains to sail a sloop. I wish I might prevail upon you now, right here, to undertake the guidance of my labours.' "'Well, that, of course, of you,' he left it unfinished, as he noted on her cheeks the tell-tale banner of color. Gaylord was still dumb and staring. "'You are very, very thoughtful,' said Thurley quietly, turning a momentary glance on Gaylord. "'But I fear I shall have to,' she paused, and the moment grew embarrassing. "'Oh, I see, I see,' said the Major hurriedly, reddening himself and smiling, understandingly on them both. "'By Pollux, of course, pardonable blindness, I trust. "'No such oversight intended. "'Glad to know you'll guide a far more poetic.' "'But I assure you I feel my loss keenly, Miss Thurley, "'very keenly indeed, especially after I'd made up my mind too. "'But, uh, act in what a gorgeous sunset!' "'Very fine,' said Gaylord, and he took out his watch and gave it a glance with a barely perceptible show of impatience. "'The sunset reminds me, Major, that we must hurry,' said Thurley, feeling some constraint in Gaylord's manner. "'Thank you very much, and good-bye.' "'She held out her hand, which the Major took, for a momentary pressure. "'And when they had gone, he stood gazing earnestly "'on the regal young figure of the girl at Gaylord's side, "'as the two walked away toward town.' End of chapter 1 This is a Librebox recording. All Librebox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit Librebox.org Recording by Paul Hansen Thurley-Ruckston by Philip Viral-Migels Chapter 2 A Departed Glory They'd always walked the mile to Thurley's home to prolong their hour of pleasure. Tonight, as the dusk of evenings slowly gathered, they were both exceptionally silent. Gaylord, indeed, had been far more than usually reserved all afternoon. To Thurley's feminine intuition was presently vouchsafed in inkling of portent in the air. From time to time she cast a glance at Gaylord's face as if to read his thoughts. She found him gazing straight ahead persistently. A worry that she could not gloss with day-end happiness was present in her mind. When she spoke at last she went, frankly, to the issue that she felt had been presented. What a very odd encounter with the major. It was, well, just a little bit embarrassing. Gaylord answered, Yes, he still looked straight ahead. For some strange, inexplicable reason Thurley felt a sinking at her heart. She summoned her courage to proceed. It was kind of the major, I am sure, to make me such an offer. But of course she halted it there, wishing to have him complete her thought, wishing to see him flare up warmly, declare his ownership in all she was and even abuse the major for his blunder. But he stared up the thoroughfare and was silent while she waited at his side. Then at last he said somewhat hoarsely, Why didn't you accept what he offered? For a moment she was certain she had heard incorrectly that some unreal fear in her breast had voiced itself as if from his scarcely parted lips, but looking intently on his set averted face she felt an almost overwhelming weakness attack her and her cheeks lost their color and were white. But, Acton, you... Well, how could I, she faltered hopelessly. After all, that's happened between... and she halted as before. Oh, what he said after a moment. He could hardly have asked a question more brutal. She realized suddenly that all she had given her love, her kiss, which to her had been so very much indeed meant possibly nothing at all to him, save a pleasure to be taken for the asking, even then she did not and could not hold a creditor's senses. Oh, what? She repeated weakly. Oh, what? Yes, oh, what? His voice was increasing in firmness as he found her weak instead of accusing. I should think you'd be glad of the major's splendid offer. It might mean a very great improvement. Do you mean, she said as one in a dream, that all you've said to me and all the attention that everything we've... everything means nothing at all? You're not suggesting really. See here thoroughly. He broke in immediately. This sort of thing couldn't go on forever. You know that. I'm going away tomorrow and I'm going abroad next week. All the weight of his meaning, suspended before, crashed down on her unprotected head as it were and left her partially stunned. She could barely think. She could not reason. She could not rise to anger. This sort of thing, she repeated. Certainly. Just the usual college sort of thing, he confessed baldly. You knew all along I'd someday leave and follow my career. The career my family will naturally expect, which of course never contemplated this. She closed her eyes for the shame that rushed upon her. Not so much for his intimation that between his family and hers there could be no hint of equality. Not so much for this as for the sickening characterization of their association as usual college sort of thing. Her whole nature shrank upon itself, abashed and quivering. The love she had given him she could not snatch away. It had gone beyond recalling, but the love she had folded to her heart, his love, was gone. While still her hands were blindly groping, it had never been hers. It had been a college loan to be taken away like a pin or any trinket. It seemed incredible the whole affair untrue that a man could change like this within a time so brief after all he had said and all he had done and all she had given of her love. Her voice was trembling when she spoke. You, Acton, you surely don't mean that I'm not to see you anymore that this is why of course we may meet sometime again, he interposed. Now let's forget it, we've been good friends and what more could we ask? You've always been a thoroughbred and I thought of course you'd be one to the end. A thoroughbred. The end. She could make no reply. She walked on in silence at his side. The shades of evening enfolded the world. The city lights were gleaming in their mundane firmament. A thin chill stratum in the atmosphere swept by and almost made her shiver. She felt strangely benumbed and unreal incapable for the moment of accepting as her own the pain that had come to her breast. The little side gate at the house where Thurley lived was standing wide open when at last they came to the end of their walk in the dusk. Galard went in behind her as she felt he would and caught at her hand when they came to the all-concealing arbor in the garden. It was here he had kissed her just a week ago. Good-bye, Thurley, he said. You're a thoroughbred all right. It's no good to be foolish in harboreal feelings, you'll admit. He drew her forward in his way of ownership to kiss her as before. No, she said. No. She pushed him off in anger that was rising in her nature. No more of the college sort of thing. Not even a college good-bye. She had snatched her hand from his grasp. Her eyes took on a look of molten lava. During one scorching second she studied his face for a sign, overlooked in her former trust, and beheld it on his lip and on his brow. Then suddenly turning she left him there and swiftly escaped to the house. He stood for a moment gazing toward the door and even started to follow up the path. But he presently faced about to the gate and slowly retreated down the street. The dream was at an end. The sky had taken on a leaden gray, all the duller for the now-departed glories. For to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org Recording by Paul Hansen Thoroughly Ruxton by Philip Viral-Migels Chapter 3 A College Widow The house where Thoroughly made her home was a boarding place exclusively for women. The building itself had once been a fine dwelling in a fashionable quarter of the town. The quarter had, however, long since been deserted by the more exclusive set, now gone to an avenue of gold. The property had come by descent to the ownership of Mrs. Prue and LaVenia Libri. Both spinsters, gray of hair but of admirable disposition in the care of whom half a dozen young women, including Thoroughly Ruxton, had flourished in exceptional comfort. Tonight, as she let herself in at the door, Thoroughly crept to the stairs like a robber. She could not bear to meet the various inmates of the place and have them read her story in her face. She fled to her room without a sound, slipped in, locked the door and then stood swaying with her eyes tightly closed and one hand pressed upon her bosom. It was over, all of it. Over and gone, and she, the proud, untouched by the rouge of mere flirtation after months of exceptional popularity with all its attendant temptations, she, no less than the weakest of her sex, was the nearest college widow, after all. A wave of mortification submerged her at the thought. A college widow. Another of the wretched abandoned amusements with which the town was tragically populated, a college widow. The name itself was ribaldry, a scornful derision that would raise a smile to the lips of countless students still to come who in turn would flirt, awaken love and finally depart, leaving another college widow in their course. And even yet it was not her pride that was wounded most, not yet, despite this outcome that she felt so detestably degrading. Her love had gone deeper than her pride and in this she suffered shame and poignant anguish. She had loved him so completely, so joyously with all her strong young nature. She had loved him this evening out in the sunset glow with a new sweet sense of surrender which it seemed he must almost have felt and understood. She had loved him so trustfully, dreaming her dreams that now, with revulsions engulfing all her soul, she was rendered fairly faint with changed emotions. She groped her way to the couch at last and fell on it in a mood of anger, despair and humiliation. She did not cry, she simply hit her face and clenched both her fists till they ached. Through every stage of wounded love she passed to the stages of anger. Her pride had undergone indignities and when it came to share in the woundings of her heart she was slowly making ready for reaction. It came at last as a heated resentment that tinged every nerve of her being. She was angry all through and something superb was in her indignation. Nevertheless she did not descend to the evening meal but lay for an hour on the couch before she felt she could even light the gas and stand face to face with her mirror. When she did rise she stood abruptly, charged all at once with a resolution splendid in its strength. She would not succumb, she would not permit her heart to ache to breaking, she would not permit the world to know that another college widow was to let. Gauld and her pride by Gaylord's intimation that her origin was not on par with his own, smarted by a realization that something of his hint was doubtless true and stung by the sense that as long as she remained a teacher of languages in this college town she would be but a target for futile admiration and passing affairs. She resolved that everything would change and fate become her slave and not her master. A thoroughbred. Yes, she proved she was a thoroughbred. No pain of heart should lie upon her sleeve, no sallow cheek, no faded smile, no sunken eye or trembling lip should advertise her plight. She meant to laugh, to flirt, to sing, and then in a week or maybe even less go down to New York, accept the offer made by major Phipps and deliberately undertake the task of forcing herself to the top. She knew not how such a thing could be achieved. She merely knew that it had been accomplished by others in the past and she felt that though a thousand obstacles should loom across her path she could find the strength in her outraged heart to meet and surmount them all. She lotted her gas. There on her bureau lay an envelope and behind it stood a photograph of Gaylord mutely gazing on her face. Tempted for a moment to catch it up and tear it into fragments, she altered her mind, opened the drawer and swept it in, face downward among a lot of empty bonbon boxes, faded roses and ribbons which had come with many of his favours. The envelope fell to the floor and she bent and took it up. For a moment she glanced at it idly before she tore it apart. Then she knew what it was, an invitation wrongly addressed and hence delayed but sent three days before by Mrs. Clayton White, one of New Haven's newest newly rich to the topsy-turvy ball at her home this present night. The ball was one to which women were privileged to invite male acquaintances of their choice. Not only did Thurley decide on the instant to attend but she also determined to ask as her escort a hopeful admirer, good-natured Harry Shattuck who alone of Gaylord's set had bested him at fencing and at chess. Color leaped warmly to her face at the thought that Gaylord himself would almost certainly be at the ball. She glanced at the mirror, gave a few restoring sweeps to her hair then ran to the door and down the stairs to the phone at the rear of the parlor. Shattuck responded across the wire in a spirit of youthful exaltation. Not only was he free to go to the ball but also he was wild to attend and would call it nine with his limousine car and he knew they'd have a ripping time. Half an hour later Thurley was roving in her room with one of the girls of the house to dress her hair. She had swallowed a cold, belated dinner but had never appeared more animated in her life. The light in her eyes was a flame of warming fire. The pride in the poise of her regal little head was the natural, unstudied outcome of her newly completed resolve. She was gowned at last in a shimmering pale green toilet as flimsy as gossamer. It was cut only slightly décloté but with the marvelously contrasted colouring of her lips, brows, eyes and hair it made a startling combination of things irresistibly charming. Only a faint flush of rose tint played in the perfect oval of her face a colour moving now toward her temples now toward her chin as if some zephyr wafted it thus about as it wafts a changing tint upon a meadow. Shattuck arrived ahead of time in his car softly purred at the gate. Then, when at length it was halted at the Clayton whites and Thurley and Shattuck alighted the one thing possible to make her moment triumphantly complete actually had the grace to occur. Gaylord arrived with a little miss snow driven in an ordinary cab and there in the glare of a white electric arc a greeting was exchanged between the four. The smile and nod with which apparently so far as Thurley was concerned the affair of the afternoon was dismiss disconcerted Gaylord utterly. Indeed the last person he expected to encounter here was Thurley Rockston already his evening was beginning to scowl. It was Thurley's hour. Never had any hour within her life been more thoroughly conceded to her queenship. Gaylord, unable to endure it longer forced his way as if by unsurrendered right through the group to her side she met his gaze and nodded brightly. May I ask for your card he said burning red to his ears I hope for a waltz or two or three. Oh, there isn't one too bad she said smiling at him gaily perhaps you could ask for an extra ask Mrs. White. I will he said he didn't was granted his boon Thurley danced with him gladly and something that savoured of divinity and motion was generously bestowed upon her something possessed her to waltz and gaylord's arms as she had never waltzed in her life she led him to the brinks of new infatuation all to hide the truth that for an hour he had crushed her like a rose beneath his feet it appeared to all that nothing had been changed as they watched the pair together on the floor Gaylord himself was bewildered not only by her wonderful recovery but far more than ever by her beauty some mad impatience to snatch back his ownership goaded his vanity anew thoroughly he said looking down into her eyes I want one more of those waltzes I've got to have two or three more she laughed oh, doesn't that sound like little Oliver Twist mustn't be dreadful to want more mush, school mush or college mush especially when there isn't any more left he felt she was laughing at him treating his wishes as a joke I didn't know you were coming here tonight he said you might have invited me oh I thought you might be packing your trunk she's answered innocently I'm almost sure you said you were leaving tomorrow he glared down at her half angrily you don't care, he said about what she answered dancing? oh yes I do and that tall, ungainly looking billy, linkerton waltzes like a swallow you'd never believe it in the world he's a bifurcated poem he glides like a jelly-fishing cream you'd as soon expect a ladder to attempt a minuet but he really has a soul for rhythmic motion she could think of nothing further to add to this frippery and galered utterly incapable of comprehending her mood and annoyed in peak relapsed into sullenness to thoroughly in the moment that the waltz was ended came ineffable relief a dozen eager swains were presently swarming about her as before and galered could do nothing but retreat nevertheless she was faint at heart now that the worst of it was over the dance with galered had proved to be an ordeal taxing all her powers she was weak despite her air of buoyancy and conscious always of a deep lying hurt by twelve o'clock when her purpose was fulfilled the reaction came upon her beginning to be physically exhausted she found herself the ready prey of all the aches postponed by her artificial joys her game had been played her triumph was complete but she had barely the strength to meet the demands of her most exacting rule through the process of making her escape she left with shattuck in his waiting car and was taken directly home a final sparkle of incandescence was conjured to her eyes in the smiles she gave him at parting then at last she was once more alone in her room sadly requiring rest End Chapter 3 This is a LibriVox recording All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org Recording by Paul Hansen Thurley Ruxton by Philip V. Miguel Chapter 4 A fateful encounter What an eon of time a few heavy weeks may seem when an unexpected crisis has inaugurated a new life's calendar it was nearly five months since that sunset hour Thurley Ruxton's dream had faded in the sky and even less since she had taken charge of the work for major flips yet it seemed a time that extended far back into other ages of her being today with fates and change once more impending she felt she knew not what she was not precisely sick at heart but perhaps merely overwhelmed and utterly belittled by the size, the indifference the ceaseless heave and tumult of gigantic New York the city that having been made by man now made and unmade him in an hour the huge device of stone and iron had received her as the sea receives a raindrop she was one of a swarm of beings all blindly working working working as bees seemed to work no one individual for himself alone but each for all despite himself to gratify the law of existence it was not to be escaped, comprehended or measured this unrelenting engineering of life there seemed to be nothing absolutely nothing she could do to lift herself apart she was simply submerged in the human tide which must rise and fall with the mighty laws that govern the cosmic scheme she was sitting alone in central park far out on its western border pondering all her former dreams of rising to some brilliant eminence on which to receive the tribute of the world the day had been cool a few drops of rain had driven scores of park visitors back to their homes thoroughly was weary enough after four miles of walking to be glad of a rest on a bench during the first exciting weeks of her metropolitan adventure she had sought with conspicuous success to achieve an understanding of the ways to genuine usefulness in directing the work that major fits was so mightily toiling to produce she had likewise been confident of bounding soon to splendid things she had won the major's approval his gratitude and trust from the first of her employment but she had found herself uncomfortably popular with all his force of clerks and then her disillusionment had presently begun the major was her loyal friend sincere and earnest in his praise and that was all she had neither expected nor desired social equality or opening of the magical door from the source of this association she had readily discovered a fairly agreeable domicile her wages were saving themselves altogether it appeared as if after all the commonplace fates had assumed a foster parenthood to guard her on a simple modest way regardless of her dreams a certain sort of utilitarian career seemed in its sphere even fair and promising but then there was something that constantly in most heart the one brief effort she had made to discover a cousin Edith Steck by name whom she had vaguely known to be somewhere in New York City failed and had never since been renewed she had thought at the time that loneliness explained the sum total of her cares she knew at last it was not that only but things that went deep she had purposely avoided proffered friendship of the useless unedifying description choosing to remain aloof from anything save mere acknowledgments of acquaintance with all her fellow workers and the people of the house where she lived today she wondered if it had paid she almost wished for any sort of friends provided they were honest and sincere for fifteen minutes she scarcely stirred sitting there lost in meditation to what would it lead this toil and hope this excursion into the maelstrom of the town what might anyone situated thus achieve at last now that she was launched upon the tide a faint, mirthless smile crept slowly to her lips freshening the radiance of her beauty she shook her head as if her knowing self thus gently rebuked the self of groundless dreams how beautiful was all the scene this was almost enough to require the bright green grass with scattered leaves of vermilion and amber upon it the golden garnet trees the cool sweet air saturated full of essences phenomenal idly she gazed across the park then at a squirrel frisking joyously by thus her glance came presently to rest on a small white object lying on the grass just at the end of her bench the object was a handkerchief a dainty lace confection immaculately clean folded in the neatest little square and marked with a small raised as hind she took it up a faint, subtle fragments was wafted to her senses the tiny thing was of cobweb frailty the design was a crest wrought with exquisite art in the tissue she was holding it carelessly when a muffled percussion attracted her gaze down the level roadway to a shadowed turn and softened the trees there a large blue touring car was leisurely rolling into view in charge of a bare-headed man a fine but bored appearing young viking who was driving about alone thoroughly watching felt a sudden splash of rain which brought her to her feet with quick decision to move to better shelter but the shower broke almost as if it had spilled through a sieve it was one of those downpourds swift and violent against which an umbrella is practically no protection thoroughly raised her silken tent at once however and fled to the base of a tree still watching the car and the road the driver she noted was clean shaven, broad, shouldered and ruddy he was obviously disturbed by the drenching of a robe in the rear of his car and cast a quick look upward at the sky making a momentary spurt as if to race and so abbreviate his discomfort or concern he abruptly altered his mind halting the car not 50 feet from the place where thoroughly stood then attempting to leap out hurriedly over his levers and the casing for extra tires he was tripped and thrown with exceptional violence landing face downward in the road with an arm crumpled awkwardly beneath him thoroughly uttered a little cry to see him plunge so heavily on his untwisted hand she moved a few steps forward in the rain he scrambled at once to his feet and turned his face tensely drawn and excessively white his left hand clinging his right wrist as he weakly reeled back against the car that the man was in agony was obvious the eloquence of pain was in his poise he could barely stand the rain beat down on him savagely out across the intervening space thoroughly ran without a moment's hesitation her umbrella was raised and rain was bouncing from its roof you're hurt, she said as she came to the car perhaps there's something I can do the man had seen her coming he gazed at her mutely for a moment his lips compressed with pain it's... it's broken, he said my wrist thoroughly had come sufficiently close to hold her umbrella above him it had all been done in obedience to something impulsive in her nature the man was suffering intensely she had utterly forgotten herself of tell me what to do, she said in her earnest manner I know it pained you horribly what shall I do to help he tried to smile then closed his eyes leaning heavily against the wheel a muscle twitching near his mouth the rain entirely ceased as abruptly as it had come ah, I suppose I'll have to let someone drive me home, he said struggling with a quiver of pain in all his being but I hardly like to impose upon you to ask you to look me up a man well, couldn't I drive you to the nearest relief as thoroughly simply it might take so long to find help he looked at her curiously his eyes despite his hurt burned warmly in tribute to her beauty never in his life beheld a face so nearly divine and indeed as thoroughly stood there by the car unconsciously sublimated by her sympathy she presented a vision that for sheer sweet loveliness could scarcely have been matched in all the world you drive, he said with no attempt to conceal an astonished incredulity do you mean that you could really take the wheel oh yes, if you need me, need my help she answered readily it can't be very far I'm sure to a place where of course she will do much better she hesitated looking at him gravely adding I couldn't do less I knew you were hurt I couldn't stand by and do nothing you're very kind he said looking at her oddly as before I hope you will pardon my wretched limpness I'll probably feel much better sitting down shall I help you get into the car she inquired perhaps you'd better lean on my arm no, no I'm all right quite all right if you'll just get in he replied and weakly he followed where she passed round in front of the car to mount the unobstructed side if you'll tell me where to go she said as she took her place with the wheel in hand and speeded up the motor I'll do my best to down through the park to Columbus Circle he interrupted sinking limply in his seat kindly overlook my impatience she dropped back the brake with her foot on the clutch set the speed control at the first and the car glided smoothly up the road half a minute later she had shifted too direct and her passenger nodded his approval he continued to cling to his wrist the pain had surged entirely through his system down as far as his knees it had sickened and rendered him utterly nervous nevertheless as he looked on her face he was strangely abstracted from his suffering a sudden outburst of sunlight was poured down on her at a parting of the clouds and the gold of it made her a goddess she had dropped the dainty lace handkerchief down beside his foot but neither of them knew it was there round a narrow curve she swung the car and the man beside her stared uttered a smothered note of apprehension and rigidly froze in his seat bearing down on them in criminal madness of speed two huge red cars with hoods abreast were racing like motion-crazy demons they practically occupied the road and to it they clung each of the drivers stubbornly determined that the other must slack or give off to the side to let the blue touring car pass thoroughly was out at the middle of the road there was neither time nor opportunity to shift her position the two wild comets charging lawlessly upon her were scarcely more than four feet apart from wheel to wheel a momentary indecision a gasp of helpless fright and she and her passenger car and all would be hopelessly in collision with one or the other of the fools in the road where death might claim them all the man at her side was out of it absolutely cold sweat broke out on his forehead so imminent did the disaster appear even had he held the wheel himself he could scarcely have known what to do it happened in the briefest fraction of a minute thoroughly stayed with the middle of the thoroughfare driving as true as a die for the space between the on rushing monsters it was far too narrow to let her through when she headed for the gap she only hoped to wedge it wider for a terrible second everything seemed hopeless the wreckage of all three cars seemed inescapable as the coughing minotaurs hurtled upon her position to the swerve of an inch a second son steadiness the slightest panic at the steering post and the crash would startle the air she was almost upon the race tide pair when they gave to the nerve she was displaying even then they relinquished but a trifle apiece and between the two as they racketed by she passed with a hands width to spare the fools cried the man who wrote at Thurley's side then he sank even deeper into his seat from sheer relief to all his throbbing nerves plus the pain unrelenting in his wrist that was superb a wave of color passed lightly across Thurley's cheek she began to realize the strangeness of the situation now that the threatened climax to the ride had sped away to the rear you are going to a doctor first I suppose she glanced about for a possible policeman and gave the car a perceptible touch of speed your hand must pain you dreadfully we're going we'll see he answered undecidedly after a moment he added perhaps I can manage to present my card and he started as if to grope in a pocket with his uninjured hand please don't she beg she cast him a quick inquiring glance is it necessary up to now there had been for her no element of personality in all the encounter he tried to smile again despite being is anything necessary anything that you or I did for a moment she did not answer then she said well it happened here we are yes it happened perhaps you'd rather I'd not introduce myself or inquire who you are she colored some way she did not care to confess that she was thoroughly ruckston ex teacher of French and German in a college town and at present and menu answers for a reminiscent major of the army she some way felt that for the moment at least she occupied a sphere far different and she had come to New York to escape the past and escape her very self more over the touch of mystery the moment afforded like a cloak in which to wrap herself appealed the presence of humor and the fitness of the situation she flashed him a sunlit glance your wrist is the only thing that counts he continued to study her face to marvel at her beauty her poise her mastery over the car at least I I'd like to know whom to thank he said that would gratify me greatly but effective proof the love that she had ever had they were lustrous with excitement her natural animation impostor prompted this and more grave seriously hurt. You were helpless. I hope I was not inexcusably bold. Oh, please, he pleaded. Please be more kind to a pure, uncalculating spirit of humanism, if not to me. It was my wrist that was impaired, not my discernment. Thoroughly made no immediate reply. Apparently all her faculties were focused on the cart. They rode for a time in silence. Oh, what a splendid team. Those horses, she presently exclaimed, partly to relieve the situation that she felt was becoming hard to sustain. Their beauties! The team in question was approaching in the road far ahead. They were glossy bays, each with white feet that rose and fell in perfect unison, to the tinkle and ringing of the silver equipment on their harnesses. They were driven to a landow of dark maroon, with coachmen and footmen and white maroon and black. On the cushions alone and discontented sat a woman well toward thirty-five, in the costliest of furs and infinitely bored with all the world. The man at Thoroughly's side glanced quickly from her face to the carriage they were about to encounter. Oh, I wonder if you'd mind stopping, he asked her hurriedly, just for half a moment. Thoroughly immediately threw out the clutch and applied the brake. The woman in the landow had not only seen them approaching and recognized the owner of the car, but was gracefully waving him to halt. Her carriage rolled up beside the big machine. Well, robbly stivering, she said, as he raised his cap, I see you in town after all, perhaps prepared to give me a few more trifling disappointments. She was a beautiful woman in a somewhat artificial manner, despite a certain smallness of her features. The man in the car attempted to smile. He was still very white. Really, Alice, Mrs. Van Kirk, he said, I ought to be ashamed. I am indeed I am. I thoroughly intended to come last Friday evening and I counted on tonight, but just a little bit ago, robbly interrupted Mrs. Van Kirk, meantime, gazing and wrapped admiration on thoroughly at the wheel. I really cannot consent to another excuse this evening. I've broken my wrist, he told her simply. If it weren't for the kindness of he turned thoroughly, Mrs. Van Kirk permit me to present my deliverer, Miss Samaritan. He purposely mumbled the Samaritan in order to conceal his natural confusion. Thoroughly, and Mrs. Van Kirk exchanged a conventional murmur. Broken your wrist, said the latter, in genuine sympathy, but studying thoroughly with penetrative eyes. Dear me, that is simply castley. I thought you looked a bit peaked. Why, robbly, this is serious. I'm tremendously sorry. Isn't there something I can do? If you'd rather I should drive you home. Thanks, no, he interrupted blandly, but I trust my excuse is valid for tonight. Mrs. Van Kirk hardly heard what he said, so intent was her inspection of the girl at Stiver and Seid. Never in her life, she felt, had she seen a young woman more beautiful, more abounding in possibilities, more desirable as an asset, a magnet, for a lifeless drawing-room. She was busily wondering who and what she could be, what relationship she bore to Stiver and where he could possibly have found her. The party of the evening had slipped from her mind for the moment. Your excuse, she echoed, valid? Oh, indeed it is, my poor dear boy. It's cruel of me to keep you here waiting like this, but at least you'll come see me. You don't walk on your wrist. Both of you come, do come soon. You'll be out of it, robbly, driving your car, riding, everything. Do come and let me supply a little pleasure. Goodbye, I'll expect you soon. She nodded and smiled at Thurley quite as much as at robbly Stivern. Then once again her landow rolled along to the jingling of silver on the trappings. The car with Thurley at the wheel proceeded on its way. End of Chapter 4. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Paul Hanson. Thurley Ruxton by Philip Viral Miguelz. Chapter 5. Temptation and a Crest. Stivern did not speak at once, and Thurley was busy with her task. A few more carriages and several cars enticed thus quickly to the park by promise of the sun were met and passed. Still clinging to his broken wrist, the man with Thurley watched her intently, more and more engrossed by her beauty. You saw my embarrassment, my predicament, he said at length, referring to the recent introduction. Now that you are acquainted with mine, don't you think I ought to at least to know your name? We're almost there. Columbus Circle, she answered nodding toward the slender, graceful monument visible now beyond the trees. In a moment you will have a better driver. After that, she left the sentence incomplete. After that, he repeated, You will certainly let me see you again if only to thank you too. She glanced at him brightly. O, but you have thanked me already quite sufficiently. Where shall I drive you now? He suddenly felt that he could not permit her to go so soon. Behold, her vanish as strangely as she had arrived, leaving him nothing save the memory of a singularly delightful encounter. If you do not mind, perhaps I'd be wiser to go home at once, he told her tentatively. If it takes you too far from your own destination, the car is entirely at your service. She flushed with pleasure at the thought of prolonging the joy already experienced, not only with the car, but also with its owner. She felt herself greatly tempted. It almost seemed as if the fates had bestowed this opportunity upon her, this opening into the wondrous world whose gate she was eagerly seeking. It might be so easy to push a little forward here, avail herself of this man's acquaintance, attempt to meet and cultivate Mrs. Van Kirk, and forge toward the gilded social goal. But she dared not assume the risk. They would find her out. She could not play the role. It was not the path by which she had hoped to succeed. As a matter of fact, she was unprepared for the developments the fates had brought about, and could follow her instinct only. But to take this injured fellow being home, that at least was barely human. She asked him quietly, where do you live? On the farther side of the park? Fifth Avenue, he answered and told her the number and corner of the street. Is it an imposition, he added? Because, of course, I'll drive you there, she interrupted. I hope there's a doctor nearby. And then you'll let me send you home, of course. She flushed to the tips of her ears, permit him thus to discover the poor old Toddry Place that was all she could call her home. She would rather have walked to the ends of the earth. She gave him the briefest of glances. I shall ask you to have me return to the park, to the place where you found me, if you please. Oh, but is it very much to ask? It's nothing. Nothing less than nothing, but I hoped I rather wished it occurred to him suddenly that she might have alighted from a car or carriage of her own to sit for a time in the park. She might be missed by those who had left her with the squirrels. Perhaps some man, perhaps some princely husband, he wondered why he'd thought of a prince in glance that her wedding finger only to find her hand was gloved. I wish to do anything to please you, to restore you to your previous enjoyment of the day, he told her honestly. Are you sure that is all I may do? Quite sure. They were gliding swiftly through 59th Street. They came to the plaza with its huge hotels, its dull gold equestrian statue of Sherman, and its tide of carriages and automobiles going into and out of the park. Thoroughly turned the corner, entered Fifth Avenue, steered out round one of the huge green autobuses and continued northward on her way. Stiver and more worried by the thought of presently losing the thrill of her presence at his side than he was by his swollen wrist, could think of nothing to say or to do that would penetrate the mystery of her personality. He had never felt so baffled or so eager in his life. He cuddled his wits for a means of attaining his desire to know her and exact a promise she would permit him to see her again, but all in vain. The impending termination of their rides seemed rather to confuse them to clear his senses. It does seem as if you might let me thank you, see you, and thank you properly. When I more like myself, he suggested at last, as thoroughly observed, they had only another block to travel. In your own words, is that so much for me to ask? This is your street, said Thoroughly, once more coloring. Uptown or downtown corner? Uptown, said Stiver and reluctantly, and the car was brought to a halt beside the curb. He alighted experiencing a new attack of weakness and pain from his hurt. For the first time he noted the dainty bit of handkerchief lying at Thoroughly's feet. Then she too stepped out to the curb to turn it once to the tonneau, open its door, and seat herself therein. I hope you will get immediate relief, she said. Please do not delay any longer. He fancied that some sense of embarrassment, together with impatience to return to her friends in the park, was revealed by the look in her eyes. I'll send someone once, he answered, loath to lose her from his sight. I trust we're not saying goodbye. Thoroughly too regretted the passing of the hour, her one golden hour in many months. She smiled, shall it be of wheat as in? His left hand, supporting his broken wrist, abandoned its charge for a moment. He raised his cap, enduring great pain in the effort, of wheat or zane. For we shall meet again, he said. I believe in fate. Oh, your wrist, she exclaimed. Please hurry with your wrist. He nodded and smiled whitely, once more supporting his arm in his hand. Then up the steps he ascended as the door abruptly opened and a servant in livery appeared. Thoroughly watched him till he turned in the vestibule, and smiled again wandily. Then the servant shut his stoic suffering from sight. Barely five minutes later another servitor appeared, saluting Thoroughly with a semi-military gesture he first, surrepetitiously secured and pocketed the tiny lace handkerchief lying near the wheel post of the car, all by special order. Then assumed the seat so recently occupied by Thoroughly herself, and headed at once for the park. In the briefest seeming time they had come to the spot where Stiverin's accident occurred. Here the man halted the auto and alighted to open the door. You are quite certain, miss. I may not drive you elsewhere. May not be of further service? Quite certain, thank you, answered Thoroughly, already experiencing a certain sensation of loneliness and depression, thus to face once more the desolation of her life, and she stepped from the car with a regal grace that made the man salute her as before. He hesitated, uncertainly for a moment, then in strict obedience to instructions, once more resumed his seat and drove away. Thoroughly sat down, she had nothing else to do, save to wonder at what it transpired. Once again the clouds obscured the sun, the gold and vermilion of the foliage dulled, and the lights burned lower in her eyes. She rose at last to walk from the park to the elevated road for a train that would carry her home. Meantime Stiverin racked with pain as his surgeon set the broken bone in place with all impatience for his man's return with the car. That worthy arrived with commendable promptness and set up the flimsy bit of lace he felt he had shamefully stolen. No sooner was the injured man alone than he shook out the faintly perfumed gossamer and eagerly scanned the tiny mark embroidered in one of its corners. A sense of joy and a sense akin to hopelessness arose in his being together. A crest he murmured excitedly. I knew it. I felt it in the air. End of Chapter 5 This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Paul Hansen. Thoroughly Ruxton by Philip Viral Miguelz. Chapter 6 The Gods of Chance The one particularly fateful element in Thorley's unique adventure in the park was not entirely the fact produced upon young Stiverin. It was quite as much the meeting with Alice Van Kirk. In addition to being the niece of Major John Phipps, she was one of the wealthiest, uneasiest, and most original women in all New York. She was likewise one of the cleverest and shrewdest in gaining her ends. Married, 35, domiciled in a modern Fifth Avenue palace, and consumed by social ambitions never yet wholly gratified, she presented a study in restless enterprise not to be lightly ignored. For one brief season she had flashed so brilliantly on the rainbow peaks of social eminence as to dazzle the most blasé. Scores of the moths that flipped to the blinding glare of gold had molted their wings to remain within the circle. Then had come Envy, successful rivalry, a species of defeat for her, and retirement from the center of the stage. For two seasons she had sought in vain for the magical wand that would place again within her grasp the queenship she felt essential to existence. Van Kirk, who detested the social cyclone, was a way to the north scouring Canada gun in hand and tent upon moose. His wife, with the season once more opening for lions and conquests and Gotham, had for weeks been ready for anything socially desperate, and had felt herself helplessly baffled. A hundred times she had conned the old devices employed in all her set, and a hundred times had flung them out as worthless for her needs. She was amply aware that nothing short of something new, and resistlessly magnetic, something gleamingly startling, could avail to establish her anew. Today in the park the germ of a thought had sunk to the tropics of her brain, there to sprout with prodigious clarity, and expand a luxuriant foliage. The germ had been planted by the sight of Thurley Ruckston driving Stiverin's car. With such a girl as that to exploit, what ends might she not achieve? Who in the world could the girl have been, and where had Robby found her? That any young woman so brilliantly, unartificially beautiful, and able more ever to drive a car, could have entered the social constellation without her knowledge was to Alice Van Kirk a positive sting. She felt humiliated, excluded, reflecting that the Stiverins and others of their circle had, as it were, kept her from knowledge that this exquisite girl had dawned upon their world. Arrived at home, she took no time for removal of furs or gloves. In her haste to employ the phone, she called up the Stiverin residents, and soon had Robby on the wire. My poor dear boy, she purred in the mouthpiece sympathetically, I am positively worried about your wrist. You had it treated, of course? Oh, right as a trivet answered Stiverin cheerfully. Good of you to call me up, I'm sure. And, by the way, Alice Robly, who is she, you lucky animal, interrupted the woman impatiently. You know in your pain you merely mumbled her name. No, not in pain and desperation, he confessed himself, no less eager than Alice to discover Thurley's identity and devise some chance to meet her without delay. I'm glad you called me up. You may be the one being on earth who can help me find out who she is and where I may encounter her again. Robly, said his sympathetic friend, you don't mean to astonish this incredulous wire with the assertion that you don't know who she is. Why, my boy, but where harken, he admonished. You're aware that Princess Thurvinia is here in America in cog? I am, of course, but it may not be she. I'm half hopeful, half afraid it is. She was all alone in the park when I had my fall. She came to my aid with all the simplicity and courage of royalty. I felt the indefinable air of something regal about her from the start. She would not reveal the first little hint of who she was and insisted on being taken back where I'd found her by my man. Why, Robly, snipe that isn't all. She dropped a little handkerchief in the car. I, uh, I've got it now. Alice, the corner is marked with a crest. Now, how could it be Princess Thurvinia? Of course, she'd speak English perfectly, but her servants, her retinue, her equipage and all. When we know she's here in cog, Nito, he answered. How could she move about in the guise of a plain American woman if Rhett News and Royal Coaches tagged her all through the park? I can't be sure, but if you had really seen her and read the descriptions of the Princess Cut, gracious, I never thought of that. Do fancy any woman would have overlooked her wonderful eyes and brows that gold of her hair, that color? Robly Alice, he interrupted. There isn't a single being in the world with your cleverness to help me find her out. Don't you see that I've got to find her now? A man can't have the luck to break his wrist like that but once in a lifetime. How will you manage to find her? Heavens answered Alice laughingly, exactly as I'd pounce on any needle in a haystack. I'm disappointed in you, Robly, to be candid. You've been stupid, really, to permit her to escape like this. By George, if I hadn't been wounded, you wouldn't have found her at all. Of course, but and you mean to say that when you were hurt she came running to your assistance alone? In the pouring rain, with all her sky sails, her umbrella set, I never felt so weak in my life. The pain went straight down to my heels. She said I needed help, I did. She said she could drive and she drove. There was never anything quite so superb in the world as the way she drove the car between. You've got to come over to see me, Alice interrupted. Come tomorrow, sure. I can understand that with your broken wrist you need even such poor assistance as mine. I'm really quite distressed about your hand. Distressed, he echoed over the wire. Great roaring ghosts. What a rank of front to look. I'll be over in the afternoon tomorrow and please be prepared with a little first aid to the second aid. Second-handed aid she interrupted. Now go and rest. Goodbye. She hung up the instrument and the period afterward known to her three-day fever had begun. It might with propriety have been termed an exasperation on her part and a desperation on the part of Robby Stiverand. Both made prodigious but futile efforts to rediscover thoroughly, and the mystery of who and what and where she was assumed new depth with every hour. Meantime, thoroughly was plunged once more into the hopelessly commonplace affairs of daily labour and boarding-house existence. Her dream of an hour already receding from her grasp over the ever-present planes of stern reality. There were moments of almost savage regret in her thoughts as she faced her grind. The barren outlook of day succeeding day and the mockery of social splendour and achievement to be glimpsed and comprehended from afar. Some vague and insistent sophistry of her more unthinking self argued repeatedly that had she only maneuvered more adroitly, played the cards supplied her by that fickle visitor opportunity, more shrewdly, she might already be scheduled for some romantic escape from the yoke she must otherwise bear. She was not deceived. She was certain in her heart of hearts that she had done the only possible thing in refusing her name to robbly stivalent and retreating from his can unknown. And yet, to be snatched from it all so soon, to be obliged to realise her own remoteness from the only sphere her nature craved was galling. She had anger with her fate. There were moments when, in her indignation at the slights put upon her by Acton Gaylord in the spring, she felt entitled to revenge on all his kind, entitled to injure all creatures of his ilk by the powers and arts and bates of love that had swept her own happiness away. For she had suffered much during all this time alone in merciless Manhattan, with recurrent dreams of the might of bends and in contemplation of the ruins of castles one time built of the stuff of summer clouds. There was never a moment, however, when she seriously thought of arranging even a second accidental meeting with the man with a broken wrist. She had taken no time to consider his personality and he, aside from his natural sense of gratitude for the little she had done, had been too much in pain, she was sure, to observe her with attention. Yet, she tugged at her fetters and assailed the major's work as if it had been a foe. Wednesday afternoon the tantalising fates took another unexpected step, and thoroughly unaware was confronting the gate in the wall, the gate to the modern Eden, the major it was who prodded the gods of change, with no such intention in his mind. He had been to this stronghold of a publisher who the day before had received the first half of the volume on which he was working. He came to Alice Van Kirk's like a boy unable to compass his delight. He had come to the gorgeous empty house to dine ostensibly. His appetite, however, was for talk. Alice was alone except for the presence of the fourteen servants in the house, and she had never in her life and more heartily glad to give him welcome. Thy politics, my dear, he said as he kissed her with genuine warmth and affection. I've never been so happy since and teetom, never. The book is a hit with my publishers, bullseye, straight and clean. And the title changed to personal recollections of seventeen engagements in the Civil War. I'm the luckiest old curmudgeon in the country. I am, by George, unbelievable luck. All that young woman's doing, order out of chaos, my raw recruits of fact in line all ready for dress parade or charge. Recollections all wheeled into battalions like magic. The second half is practically finished. As an author I feel I begin to awe, though, with that young woman's assistance. I had a run right up and tell you. You are very kind, said Alice warmly. It's a pity the pattern of your young woman paragon had not been more generously employed. If only they were made beautiful, regal, and discoverable more often. The rest of us might almost approximate a toleration of existence. Pessimism, my dear, pessimism, answered the major heartily. The world is full of beautiful women. This exotic of mine, exotic, that's the proper description, is extraordinary. She is, by Pollux, gifted, alert, sensible, too sensible to know how absolutely beautiful she is. Even with all my force so dead in love with her, they work like bees about their queen. She's the finest product of the feminine gender I've seen outside of this room, by Pollux. Admiral retreat with guns intact, commented Alice dryly. Is she blond to Burnett? I've forgotten which you preferred a month ago. Where you are by George, replied the major triumphantly. She's neither. They both, well, golden hair, I admit, real, you know, real. Magnificent, no bleach by Pollux none. And the darkest brows, no penciling, I swear it, at the cannon's mouth, and eyes brown as a seal. No chance to paint her peroxide eyes, you'll admit. You're bound to, you're bound to admit. And there you are. I have a notion to write another book to keep her near. Beautiful. My dear, if I were only young, cease firing. She interrupted with a waking-ming interest. Are you sure of what you are describing? Remember, this is not the eighteenth engagement in the Civil War, and I want the facts. Do you repeat blonde hair, brown eyes, browsed, darkly black, and complexion, rose, and white? I hadn't come to a complexion, but by George it is. It is roses. That's it, roses, white ones, and red. How in the world I ever got her to come exactly, his niece interrupted. Where and how did you get her? Who is this girl? It's the one you mentioned before. The major sat down, repeatedly told you about her way last June, mentioned her frequently at Newport, always with enthusiasm too, maybe with Arter, probably with Arter. Tell you all I know about her wonderful young woman. With commendable optimism and some perspicacity of statement, he proceeded at once to enlighten his niece as fully as his information permitted as to who and what Miss Thurley Roxton was, and how he had come to employ her. He made scant mention of the apparent relationship she had enjoyed with Acton Gaylord, but admitted he had met her frequently in Gaylord's company, and accepted her socially, in fact, on Gaylord's endorsement, and had asked her nothing at all concerning her antecedents, having always been far more interested in the phases of her cleverness, her beauty, and her remarkable popularity. Alice listened to all this recital with an interest peculiarly intent. Why don't you bring her up and let me see the girl she presently demanded? But no. On the whole, I think I shall call it your office. By tomorrow afternoon, a servant appeared and announced the dinner served. Thurley Roxton by Philip Viral Miguel's Chapter 7 A Cinderella Proposition When Thurley, complying with the major's request, stepped briskly into his army headquarters to find herself confronted by a tall, grey-eyed woman from the palace on Fifth Avenue, she was merely a trifle surprised. There was no recognition in the fleeting glance with which she met the scrutiny that Alice bent upon her. Ah, here we are by Pollux. Yes, said the major in his mildest artillery utterance. Alice served. Permit me to present Miss Thurley Roxton. Yes, Miss Roxton. My niece, Miss Van Kirk, interested. Wish to meet you. Have a little chat. I'll leave you here together. He disappeared and closed the door as Thurley turned gaze inquiringly at the visitor whose name she would never forget. Alice met her astonished look with an arch and radiant smile. Not only had she instantly recognized the girl who had driven Stiverin's car, but also with equal promptness had her mind conceived an extraordinary plan. Miss Roxton, she said, advancing without stretched hand, I am exceedingly glad to meet you again. You hardly knew me for a moment. Thurley took the proffered hand, almost mechanically. She flushed with colour which instantly heightened her beauty as she wondered what the meeting might imply. I, ah, I remember now she faltered, perhaps a trifle embarrassed by the thought of thus being discovered revealed in her real capacity and personality. Our meeting before was quite informal, Alice interrupted, but altogether delightful, nevertheless, that is for me. Frankly, Miss Roxton, I've been hoping to find you ever since. I want you to sit down for a little friendly talk. Thurley followed to the corner where the older woman led, but was halted in the act of turning a chair about to face her visitor. Oh, sit here on the Davenport with me, said Alice, engagingly. I might as well tell you that I like you at once, and have it over. I've really come back to make a proposition. Thurley smiled, she hardly knew why, or her customary ease of manner returned with the smile as she took the seat denoted. I'm not in the least a literary person if it's anything more on books. She knew intuitively it was not concerning books that Alice Van Kirk had appeared. Vaguely she wondered what this woman of the world imagined, concerning herself and Robby Stiverand. She mirrored a menuensis. He, the probable scion of an old and wealthy family, and the pair of them seen in his automobile, returning from, who might say, where? An aspect of dread, the dread of being possibly misunderstood, assailed her unexpectedly. It had never even occurred to her mind before. Oh, books, said Alice, with an eloquent gesture of depreciation. Do I look like that in the least? Thurley smiled. Oh, that sort of genius sometimes runs in families. Infests them, you mean, my dear, but the major is only my uncle. Let's be perfectly candid, you and I. First, I may as well confess, I know all about your meeting with Robby Stiverand last Saturday afternoon. He told me, of course. He doesn't know who you are in the least, thanks to your innate ladyhood. I can also readily understand that you hardly wish him to discover. Thurley flushed anew. Oh, not because of anything. Dear child, can't you trust me to understand? And no less than yourself, I prefer he should not know. Thurley was thoroughly puzzled. Her natural wonder was what Robby Stiverand could possibly be to Alice Van Kirk, and why she should come here today. She could only echo, you prefer he should not know? Exactly. Now comes my proposition. I want you to come to my house, live with me, become my protégé, and meet him and all my friends on a social equality immediately, at least by the end of the week. Thurley could scarcely credit her senses, but Mrs. Van Kirk, I know you don't understand it, of course, naturally. Why, I should wish it, but what possible advantage I hope to derive from such an arrangement. But I told you I meant to be frank. She paused to lean forward and take the girl's soft hand in her own. I need you very much indeed, and I rather hope you need me, before you say anything at all. I wish to assure you there will be no dubious conditions, no string to the offer I am making. Candidly, I require a magnet. Such a magnet as all the gold in the world may never be, a living radiant magnet to brighten my home, to draw success and interest about me. Such a magnet as you, my dear, would supply. I shall wish to treat you precisely as I might, a younger sister. Just come out and would exact only a promise that no matter what might be conjectured as to whence you came, you divulge nothing to the world, assert nothing, deny nothing, and agree not to marry or to promise yourself in marriage for at least a year from our association. More and more thoroughly's bewilderment increased. But I can't in the least understand your motive, she confessed. What could I possibly do that repay you for your venture? Oh dear child, you can wear gorgeous jewels, furs, and gowns, like a princess. You can go with me everywhere, help me entertain, fill my hollow house with the people I wish to attract, give me the things I most desire, and better your fortunes by the process. Thoroughly shook her head gravely. I don't see why you think so, Mrs. Van Kerk. I I have never had that sort of education, but you've always been popular. Oh, a little with the college boys, I suppose. I hoped so, thought so once. I was certain of that from the first, said Alice decisively. My dear, that is all I desire. Thoroughly looked at her quickly, a light of girlish inquiry burning in her eyes. Do you mean you would wish me to attract a lot of men? Men, of course, men and women of the social set that once paid me tribute slavishly, and now, well, things are different now. I am no longer novel, I suppose. Perhaps I'm too respectable, but you could help me bring them back. Oh, all of it nicely, my dear, nothing dubious. I said before, and I repeat, I wish you to occupy just such a place as I'd give to a younger sister of whom I could always be proud and fond. Doesn't that clear away your doubts? Heavens, I haven't the slightest thought that I might be misunderstood. Thoroughly burned a warmer color, but you can see how strange it seems to me. Why, yes, child, I see it perfectly. That's why I'm going to ask you to think it over first. I asked the major to bring you home to dine with me tonight, but perhaps you'd rather go in the car with me. Only he might tell you all about me, as he told me a little of you. I want you to know there is nothing sinister behind my offer, nothing you may not accept with pride and honor. There are elements of business to it, of course, for I expect you to make my existence much more happy, as I should hope to make yours more bright and promising. That's all. I am dying to make the fairy-like transformation on a girl already lovely, and surely you're not without ambition, thoroughly smiled. It is a fairy story, isn't it? The way it comes and all. It sounds too good for New York City, shall I say? And coming like this, to me, fate, my dear, believe me. How otherwise should you happen to be sitting in the park when Robbly Stiverant comes along breaks his big strong wrist, thoroughly colored, an exquisite tint. I hope his wrist is better. I mean, it was really terrible. Alice arched her brows. He called the incident a favor of the gods. He is nearly insane to meet his princess again. The red fairly surged Thurley's cheeks at this and down all her ivory neck. You—he—I'd be expected to meet him, as you said? Naturally. His enthusiasm, I confess, incubated my resolve to find you if I could, but don't forget what I named as my conditions. I couldn't permit you to engage yourself for a year, not even to Robbly. After all that romantic meeting, you see, I am very scheming after all. Oh, Alice Rose, will you come tonight with the major or with me? Thurley's excitement returned. Did I promise to come? To look us over, certainly. Where anything you like, my dear? We three shall be alone. She held out her hand as before, and smiled with a charm of her own that Thurley knew was honest. You can think things over rapidly, from all I learn of your character. Perhaps you can give me your answer tonight. Thurley's smile was a trifle timid. Perhaps the older woman quickly took her other hand. There was something wistful in the look she bestowed on the eyes so deeply brown. If you make up your mind to come, you'll call me Alice. If I come? Alice gave added pressure to her hands. I think you'll be a little more comfortable if you come with the major, she concluded. We'll consider that arranged. Till then, my dear, goodbye. Goodbye, said Thurley, and followed to the door. Alice turned and kissed her suddenly. There, I simply couldn't help it. She laughed her own face, flushing girlishly. I know we are going to be friends. Then she went, and Thurley stood there marveling, a thrill suddenly creeping to her heart. End of Chapter 7 This is a Librebox recording. All Librebox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit Librebox.org. Recording by Paul Hansen. Thurley-Ruckston by Philip Viral-Migels. Chapter 8 Wanted A Discovery The transformation was complete, the most absolute magical transformation one could possibly imagine, and still Thurley hardly believed it had come for more than one midnight hour. It seemed impossible for such a dream to assume substantiality. Its vanishment, like Cinderella's coach and Steeds, would have seemed the natural incident when twelve solemn strokes should sound from some darkened tower. That first exciting dinner with Alice and the Major was already two days old, its impression embossed on Thurley's malleable mind as a ball relief uplifted from her former plane of existence. But tonight, this first real occupancy of her wondrous cocoon from which she was destined to emerge into new and startling loveliness. This was too magical for credence. Alice herself had brought her to the suite of rooms henceforth to be sacred to her uses. Alice herself had appointed two smart deferential maids to attend to her slightest needs. Her old world had slunk away like smokey fog, old labours, old apartments, old gowns and hats and shoes. There was nothing left to suggest her past attachments save two or three trinkets of gold in her mother's diamond ring. She stood at last alone with her thoughts, robed in a faintly shimmering gossamer of night apparel delightedly regarding her home. Her maids had prepared her for retirement and left her in possession, mistress of her warmly glowing kingdom. Yet she dared not and could not experience a sense of ownership either in the walls and furnishings or in all the dainty finery, exquisite gowns, the costly furs and sparkling gems already secured and bestowed upon her as the mere first requisites of her wardrobe. New purchases which Alice had assured her were soon to be supplemented properly when modists, tailors and others of their ilk should have time to prepare things to order. A feeling of strangeness pervaded the thrills she underwent and she once more explored her gilded bower by herself, from the splendid spaciousness and delicate perfections of her drawing-room through her lofty blue and gold chamber and her holy enchanting dressing-room to the fairy grotto of the bath and bathk. She moved with the lingering appreciation of a princess who, after long banishment, is once more restored to her own. She opened the wardrobes one by one and gazed at their treasures in joy. The jewels that gleamed from her golden casket were reflected brilliantly in the rapture of her eyes. All her old dreams of conquest of Manhattan had contained no such element as this. It had faded like the tawdry thing in the light of this dazzling reality. All the old resentments felt against Acton Gaylord and his sort, together with desire for swift retaliation had gone with the grimy fog of former days. Exultation and pure, girlish ecstasy with the love of all the lovelier phases of existence possessed and thrilled her being. It was hers, this world of beauty. Perhaps for an hour she moved about the place, now sitting in the throne-like chair, now merely standing in the center of the room to contemplate its charms. At last she pushed a button in the paneled wall and the soft rose lights of her fairyland faded in their crystal spheres. A mellowed twilight crept through the windows westward where they overlooked Fifth Avenue. She went there happily and by habit ran up the shades. Below the pavement, Dully reflected the scattered lights widely dotting out the long perspective. A handsome went by, the horse's hooves musically clop-clopping as he trotted briskly toward the plaza. Across the way loomed the wall and the half denuded trees of Central Park. Here and there a star-like lamp glowed steadily between dark masses of foliage, increasing the sense of peace. The sky was clear and the constellations swung brilliantly across the firmament, lustrous with cosmic magnificence. But Dully's eyes beheld again a man falling forward in the rain. She saw him presently seated by her side and the pulse of a mighty motor shook her being. She wondered and she wondered. At last, with a sigh of newfound rapture, she returned to the holy, intoxicating luxury of her couch. What a pity it seemed to waste a moment of a world so marvellous and sleeps a-facing oblivion. Yet when she awakened by the morning light, the wonder was fresher than ever. She had barely entered the hallway of miracles to which, in the way of her kind, she would presently grow amazingly accustomed. Nevertheless, for the two or three days next succeeding, her emotions of bewilderment increased. Neither her mind nor her nature could grasp the full significance of Alice van Kirk's prodigious wealth. She could not behold the prodigiality of spending upon herself and avoid feeling staggered and appalled. Alice induced her gently with skill and finesse of the utmost art toward the nonchalance, poise, and deportment of those long accustomed to the favours of the gods. Her pupil was apt and pliant. Her natural grace, plus her exceptional powers of observation and intuition rendered thoroughly instantly amenable to the slightest desires and pressures of the woman now molding her anew. That certain regal essence of her being, naturally inherent, flowered in exquisite charm. Graciousness claimed her for its own. Her beauty was heightened and refined. Over coachmen and footmen who were assigned with her own particular carriages to her needs, she assumed a monarchal proprietorship that delighted their very souls. By every possible device of modesty and retirement, Alice conducted the schooling of her princes, as it were, behind the scenes. Not even Robby Stiverand was aware of his a-better's fine. He had fretted, stormed, implored the fates and Alice to run amok through drawing-rooms, and the first of the season's functions without, of course, so much as encountering a single person who had ever seen or heard of the girl he sought. Meantime, rumours that a princess of extraordinary beauty, wealth, and cleverness was actually adrift incognito in America, and had been credited with truth despite the fact that all eager swelldom had vainly sought to find her out from somewhat vague descriptions. She was said to be blonde and brunette together, headstrong, entirely cosmopolitan, weary of Europe, inclined toward an American alliance, and the promised guest of some woman once met abroad. To Alice van Kirk these stories came and met exceptionally cordial hospitality. Such excitement as her nature and spirit permitted increased in her being every hour. At the end of the week of Thurley's tuition, the well-known van Kirk impatience chafed no longer, however, at the mere delay in presenting of her protégé, but instead at her own fastidiousness of choice in means whereby to promote the impending discovery to best advantage. The horse show was a week away, the opera nearly two. Before the former and the metropolitan opening Thurley should already be heralded, or much valued time would be lost, a veritable triumph at Madison Square was the premiere of Alice's demands of the situation. Such power would the victory bestow. She dared not jeopardize a structure built upon the frailty of this new experiment by undue haste, unwisdom, or self-started claims concerning Thurley. The cleverness of her intentions was worthy of her well-known ingenuity and clarity of vision, hence the worry that possessed her day and night as she pummeled her wits to meet the crucial moment, an event of launching Thurley forth upon a social startled world that would think it instantly pierced her identity for itself. She thought and planned till she was nearly ill. In vain, some hazy scheme of inviting robly-styrant to a motor-ride in the park and picking Thurley up at the spot where the young man's wrist had been broken was the nearest approach she could possibly invent by way of something accidental. It met her requirements in romanticism, even perhaps too well. It lacked, however, in its powers for publicity. She dismissed it with the rest. Saturday morning arrived, a day more brilliant than the sunset hour of the day when robly broke his wrist. Alice awoke in a fever induced by tossing in sleeplessness as she thought of the problem she must meet. There was no further time to be lost and nothing had come to her assistance. Then Thurley, plus her helpful fate, brought it all to crystallization, unguessed by Alice at the time. Oh, Alice! she said at breakfast. What a gorgeous day! Could we order the horses for a gallop in the park? Alice avidly welcomed the suggestion. Why, yes, by all means, Thurley, order yours for this afternoon. I'll ride like a cat on skates, you know, but I'd rather you went than not. Oh, said Thurley, I hope we might go together. Alice smiled at her archly. Even though you might perchance meet a motorist, disabled and forlorn, fiddle-sticks, order your horse. For three, and James will trail behind.