The Edward Bellamy MEGAPACK ®. Edward Bellamy

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СКАЧАТЬ are withholding from me. Really, doesn’t it seem a little hard that a person in my position should not be given all the information possible concerning himself?”

      “It does not concern you—that is, not directly. It is not about you exactly,” she replied, scarcely audibly.

      “But it concerns me in some way,” I persisted. “It must be something that would interest me.”

      “I don’t know even that,” she replied, venturing a momentary glance at my face, furiously blushing, and yet with a quaint smile flickering about her lips which betrayed a certain perception of humor in the situation despite its embarrassment—”I am not sure that it would even interest you.”

      “Your father would have told me,” I insisted, with an accent of reproach. “It was you who forbade him. He thought I ought to know.”

      She did not reply. She was so entirely charming in her confusion that I was now prompted, as much by the desire to prolong the situation as by my original curiosity, to importune her further.

      “Am I never to know? Will you never tell me?” I said.

      “It depends,” she answered, after a long pause.

      “On what?” I persisted.

      “Ah, you ask too much,” she replied. Then, raising to mine a face which inscrutable eyes, flushed cheeks, and smiling lips combined to render perfectly bewitching, she added, “What should you think if I said that it depended on—yourself?”

      “On myself?” I echoed. “How can that possibly be?”

      “Mr. West, we are losing some charming music,” was her only reply to this, and turning to the telephone, at a touch of her finger she set the air to swaying to the rhythm of an adagio. After that she took good care that the music should leave no opportunity for conversation. She kept her face averted from me, and pretended to be absorbed in the airs, but that it was a mere pretense the crimson tide standing at flood in her cheeks sufficiently betrayed.

      When at length she suggested that I might have heard all I cared to, for that time, and we rose to leave the room, she came straight up to me and said, without raising her eyes, “Mr. West, you say I have been good to you. I have not been particularly so, but if you think I have, I want you to promise me that you will not try again to make me tell you this thing you have asked to-night, and that you will not try to find it out from any one else—my father or mother, for instance.”

      To such an appeal there was but one reply possible. “Forgive me for distressing you. Of course I will promise,” I said. “I would never have asked you if I had fancied it could distress you. But do you blame me for being curious?”

      “I do not blame you at all.”

      “And some time,” I added, “if I do not tease you, you may tell me of your own accord. May I not hope so?”

      “Perhaps,” she murmured.

      “Only perhaps?”

      Looking up, she read my face with a quick, deep glance. “Yes,” she said, “I think I may tell you—some time”: and so our conversation ended, for she gave me no chance to say anything more.

      That night I don’t think even Dr. Pillsbury could have put me to sleep, till toward morning at least. Mysteries had been my accustomed food for days now, but none had before confronted me at once so mysterious and so fascinating as this, the solution of which Edith Leete had forbidden me even to seek. It was a double mystery. How, in the first place, was it conceivable that she should know any secret about me, a stranger from a strange age? In the second place, even if she should know such a secret, how account for the agitating effect which the knowledge of it seemed to have upon her? There are puzzles so difficult that one cannot even get so far as a conjecture as to the solution, and this seemed one of them. I am usually of too practical a turn to waste time on such conundrums; but the difficulty of a riddle embodied in a beautiful young girl does not detract from its fascination. In general, no doubt, maidens’ blushes may be safely assumed to tell the same tale to young men in all ages and races, but to give that interpretation to Edith’s crimson cheeks would, considering my position and the length of time I had known her, and still more the fact that this mystery dated from before I had known her at all, be a piece of utter fatuity. And yet she was an angel, and I should not have been a young man if reason and common sense had been able quite to banish a roseate tinge from my dreams that night.

      CHAPTER 24

      In the morning I went down stairs early in the hope of seeing Edith alone. In this, however, I was disappointed. Not finding her in the house, I sought her in the garden, but she was not there. In the course of my wanderings I visited the underground chamber, and sat down there to rest. Upon the reading table in the chamber several periodicals and newspapers lay, and thinking that Dr. Leete might be interested in glancing over a Boston daily of 1887, I brought one of the papers with me into the house when I came.

      At breakfast I met Edith. She blushed as she greeted me, but was perfectly self-possessed. As we sat at table, Dr. Leete amused himself with looking over the paper I had brought in. There was in it, as in all the newspapers of that date, a great deal about the labor troubles, strikes, lockouts, boycotts, the programmes of labor parties, and the wild threats of the anarchists.

      “By the way,” said I, as the doctor read aloud to us some of these items, “what part did the followers of the red flag take in the establishment of the new order of things? They were making considerable noise the last thing that I knew.”

      “They had nothing to do with it except to hinder it, of course,” replied Dr. Leete. “They did that very effectually while they lasted, for their talk so disgusted people as to deprive the best considered projects for social reform of a hearing. The subsidizing of those fellows was one of the shrewdest moves of the opponents of reform.”

      “Subsidizing them!” I exclaimed in astonishment.

      “Certainly,” replied Dr. Leete. “No historical authority nowadays doubts that they were paid by the great monopolies to wave the red flag and talk about burning, sacking, and blowing people up, in order, by alarming the timid, to head off any real reforms. What astonishes me most is that you should have fallen into the trap so unsuspectingly.”

      “What are your grounds for believing that the red flag party was subsidized?” I inquired.

“Why simply because they must have seen that their course made a thousand enemies of their professed cause to one friend. Not to suppose that they were hired for the work is to credit them with an inconceivable folly.4 In the United States, of all countries, no party could intelligently expect to carry its point without first winning over to its ideas a majority of the nation, as the national party eventually did.”

      “The national party!” I exclaimed. “That must have arisen after my day. I suppose it was one of the labor parties.”

      “Oh no!” replied the doctor. “The labor parties, as such, never could have accomplished anything on a large or permanent scale. For purposes of national scope, their basis as merely class organizations was too narrow. It was not till a rearrangement of the industrial and social system on a higher ethical basis, and for the more efficient production of wealth, was recognized as the interest, not of one class, but equally of all classes, of rich and poor, cultured and ignorant, old and young, weak and strong, men and women, that there was any prospect that it would be achieved. Then СКАЧАТЬ