The Restless Sex. Chambers Robert William

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      "Very well. But I sha'n't permit you to adopt her."

      "Why not?"

      "I may want her myself when I'm too old and worn out to work here. I wish her to keep her name."

      "Madame – "

      "I insist. What did you say her name is? Stephanie? Then her name is to remain Stephanie Quest."

      "If you insist – "

      "I do! And that's flat! And you need not settle an income on her – "

      "I shall do so," he interrupted firmly. "I have ample means to provide for the future of anybody dependent on me, Madame."

      "Do you presume to dictate to me what I shall do concerning my own will?" she demanded; and her belligerent eyes fairly snapped at him.

      "Do what you like, Madame, but it isn't necessary to – "

      "Don't instruct me, Mr. Cleland!"

      "Very well, Madame – "

      "I shall do as I always have done, and that is exactly as I please," she said, glancing at him. "And if I choose to provide for the child in my will, I shall do so without requesting your opinion. Pray understand me, Mr. Cleland. If I let you have her it is only because I am self-distrustful. I failed with Harry Quest. I have not sufficient confidence in myself to risk failure with his daughter.

      "Let the matter stand this way until I can consult my attorney and investigate the entire affair. Take her into your home. But remember that she is to bear her own name; that the legal guardianship shall be shared by you and me; that I am to see her when I choose, take her when I choose… Probably I shall not choose to do so. All the same, I retain my liberty of action."

      Cleland said in a low voice:

      "It would be – heartless – if – "

      "I'm not heartless," she rejoined tartly. "Therefore, you need not worry, Mr. Cleland. If you love her and she loves you – I tell you you need not worry. All I desire is to retain my liberty of action. And I intend to do it. And that settles it!"

      Cleland Senior went home in his automobile.

      In a few days the last legal objection was removed. There were no other relatives, no further impediments; merely passionate tears from the child at parting with Schmidt; copious, fat tears from the carpenter's wife; no emotion from the children; none from the canary bird.

      CHAPTER IV

      In February the child departed from the Schmidts' in charge of an elderly, indigent gentlewoman, recommended to Mr. Cleland at an exorbitant salary. Mrs. Westlake was her name; she inhabited, with a mild and useless husband, the ancient family mansion in Pelham. And here the preliminary grooming of Stephanie Quest began amid a riot of plain living, lofty thinking, excision of double negatives acquired at hazard, and a hospital régime of physical scrubbing.

      During February and March the pitiless process continued, punctuated by blessed daily visits from Cleland Senior, laden with offerings, edible and otherwise. And before April, he had won the heart of Stephanie Quest.

      The first night that she slept under Cleland's roof, he was so excited that he sat up in the library all night, listening for fear she should awake, become frightened, and cry out.

      She slept perfectly. Old Janet had volunteered as nurse and wardrobe mistress, and a new parlour-maid took her place. Janet, aged sixty, had been his dead wife's childhood nurse, his son's nurse in babyhood: then she had been permitted to do in the household whatever she chose; and she chose to dust the drawing-room, potter about the house, and offer herself tea between times.

      Janet, entering the library at six in the morning, found Mr. Cleland about ready to retire to bed after an all-night vigil.

      "What do you think of what I've done – bringing this child here?" he demanded bluntly, having lacked the courage to ask Janet's opinion before.

      Janet could neither read nor write. Her thoughts were slow in crystallizing. For a few moments master and ancient servant stood confronted there in the dusk of early morning.

      "Maybe it was God's will, sor," she said at last, in her voice which age had made a little rickety.

      "You don't approve?"

      "Ah, then Mr. Cleland, sor, was there annything you was wishful for but the dear Missis approved?"

      That answer took him entirely by surprise. He had never even thought of looking at the matter from such an angle.

      And after Janet went away into the dim depths of the house, he remained standing there, pondering the old Irishwoman's answer.

      Suddenly his heart grew full and the tears were salt in his throat – hot and wet in his closed eyes.

      "Not that memory and love are lessened, dear," he explained with tremulous, voiceless lips, " – but you have been away so long, and here on earth time moves slowly without you – dearest – dearest – "

      "Th' divil's in that young wan," panted Janet outside his chamber door. "She won't be dressed! She's turning summersalts on her bed, God help her!"

      "Did you bathe her?" demanded Cleland, hurriedly buttoning his collar and taking one of the scarfs offered by old Meacham.

      "I did, sor – and it was like scrubbing an eel. Not that she was naughty, sor – the darlint! – only playful-like and contrayry – all over th' tub, under wather and atop, and pretindin' the soap and brush was fishes and she another chasin' them – "

      "Janet!"

      "Sorr?"

      "Has she had her breakfast?"

      "Two, sorr."

      "What?"

      "Cereal and cream, omelet and toast, three oranges and a pear, and a pint of milk – "

      "Good heavens! Do you want to kill the child?"

      "Arrah, sorr, she'll never be kilt with feedin'! It's natural to the young, sorr – and she leppin' and skippin' and turnin' over and over like a young kid! – and how I'm to dress her in her clothes God only knows – "

      "Janet! Stop your incessant chatter! Go upstairs and tell Miss Stephanie that I want her to dress immediately."

      "I will, sorr."

      Cleland looked at Meacham and the little faded old man looked back out of wise, tragic eyes which had seen hell – would see it again more than once before he finished with the world.

      "What do you think of my little ward, Meacham?"

      "It is better not to think, sir; it is better to just believe."

      "What do you mean?"

      "Just that, sir. If we really think we can't believe. It's pleasanter to hope. The young lady is very pretty, sir."

      Cleland Senior always wore a fresh white waistcoat, winter and summer, and a white carnation in his button-hole. He put on and buttoned the one while Meacham adjusted the other.

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