CHAPTER IX

CONSCIENCE SCOURGED AN UPROAR IN NEW RICHMOND

ARLY the following morning Dr. Culpepper and Harold

called on Samuel Simonson to make the amende honorable for the lamentable occurrence at Judge Gildersleeve's, though there was little to be said.

"My daughter, sir," said Dr. Culpepper, with deep emotion, "has wounded you most grievously. For her offense, so utterly without warrant or provocation, there can be no excuse or palliation. I can only say, sir, that we deplore it, more than I can find language to express. Fortunately, you suffer only a transient annoyance. For you the unhappy incident is already but a fleeting memory, happily presently to be forgotten; for, believe me, we esteem you highly. But for us there can be no erasure or forgetting of the fact that a beloved member of our family has been guilty of a most atrocious outrage. Our only consolation is, though a sorrowful one, my daughter at the time was not mentally responsible. Something, unknown to us, has unsettled her mind. Besides, she now is very ill. Indeed, at midnight her condition was so alarming I summoned Dr. Boynton, who is still at her bedside."

Harold added: "Mother and I are deeply grieved, and, earnestly crave your merciful consideration."

The young lawyer thanked them for their courtesy, assured them he felt no animosity, expressed the hope that Miss Culpepper's illness would be of brief duration, and felt relieved when they departed.

"It was damnable," said Hugh Grant, who called a little later; "but Vergie always was queer. Pure as an angel, proud as a peacock, and high-tempered as the devil." The young lawyer smiled.

"And beautiful-distressingly handsome! And passionshe's a tigress; belongs to the genus Felis. Why, were she to fall in love with a man, she'd pounce on him and-and devour him, then penitently grieve herself to death. The matter with her is, she's too . vital; needs a husband like Petruchio, and some-babies. Vitality in a woman is all right, but when one can't touch her without being volted over, and his nerves being set to tingling like telegraph-wires on a stormy night, and his brain being electrolyzed till his imagination runs riot and takes leave of Words failed him.

reason

"But what I came up to say is, every son and daughter of us there last night is for you. After leaving the Judge's the whole party dropped in at Freda's and joined in a conspiracy. Now, don't *'concursus bonorum omnium' or "hic munitissimus habendi senatus locus' us. Rest assured, Simonson, there was no Vargunteius or Cornelius or Quintus Curius there, and of Fulvias there is none in New Richmond. Al Levering made a little speech-you know, Al's just home from Hampden-Sidney College-and said you were an honor to the community; that you were always honor-bright; that your blood and brain and brawn had no yellow streak or splotch; and that you might be a Johnbrownist and a Wendellphillipist and a Williamlloydgarrisonist and an Abrahamlincolnist all in one-and, you know, folks will talk, old man-you were nevertheless a scholar and a gentleman, and that he, for one, proposed to stand by you. And Freda, the little minx, jumped to her feet

The assembly of all the good.

This most fortified place of holding the senate.

and said, "Many's in favor of the motion, stand up!' And, do you know, every sonuvagun 'n daughteruvagoddess was standing quicker'n a wink."

There were other callers, all expressing deepest sympathy. Under ordinary circumstances such an outpouring of sympathy would have been infinitely comforting, and such assurances of confidence and esteem would have both cheered and strengthened him; but now words seemed to have lost their normal potency. He could understand their meaning, but could not feel their force or sequence. He observed the long second-hand of the clock completing the circumference of the dial in three mighty strides, twenty seconds to a stride, but was not conscious of the flight of time. The room was growing chill; he felt the discomfort, but did not observe the open window, though he was looking at it.

The clock on the mantel tirelessly, ceaselessly, droned, "Tick-tock, tock-tick, tick-tock, tock-tick"; so something within him-something he couldn't control-kept repeating, "Vergie-Marjorie, Marjorie-Vergie.”

Vergie Culpepper had dealt him a stunning blow; and the method and manner with which she had done it caused him to writhe. Yet there was no feeling of resentment-only the horror of it; and the almost unendurable pain. Why did she so hate him? Why had she assailed him? Why had she chosen such a time and place to pour upon him the phials of her contemptuous wrath and scorn? Vainly he sought an answer. He had accepted her father's explanation, but all the while he knew better. She hated him deeply, malevolently, furiously-he knew it. But why? And thus his mind went the weary round like one lost in a maze.

Occasionally he thought of Marjorie, and this was even more painful because it brought self-accusation and remorse. Writhing at the remembrance of Vergie's vitriolic taunt, he could cool and soothe his burning anguish with self-pity. He

was innocent; had done her no wrong. Yes, as Hugh had said, "Vergie's a tigress," and she had plunged her cruel fangs into his very soul-and that, too, without provocation; even her father and brother had said so.

But Marjorie! Against her he had sinned. She for whom he would have died—it's a strong word, but in this case not too strong-he had betrayed. He was not a rouê, nor had he committed the unpardonable sin. But lips that were not his to kiss, that were pledged to another, he had kissed, not once only, but many times, not conventionally, but in a very tempest of passion. Likewise a form pledged to another, that he knew was pledged to another, he had held in his arms, madly pressed to his bosom. A priceless, irrestorable treasure he had taken; to his account he charged a sacrilege for which there could be no atonement.

And the manner of it! He had taken advantage of her tender compassion; had answered pity with outrage. Her noble soul had clothed him with all the attributes of knighthood and he had proved himself a rake. True, she had absolved him; like a glorious expiating priestess, she had taken the guilt upon herself; but that did not make his act any less criminal, or his crime any less flagitious.

"Who am I, what am I," he mercilessly questioned himself, "that I should visit wrath upon Virginia Culpepper, when, in the sight of heaven, I am guilty of an offense so much more heinous ?"

Late in the afternoon Judge Gildersleeve called. The Judge was very kind, very gentle, very solemn-unusually so. He wasted no time on preliminaries.

"Sammy, I've called on business. It's in a manner confidential. Are we quite alone?"

"Yes, Judge," wonderingly; "and to secure ourselves from interruption, I'll close and lock the door."

"You remember, Sammy, Cæsar begins his brochure, De

127 Bello Gallico, by saying, *Gallia est omnis divisa in partes tres'; so what I have to say comes under three heads."

"First, I want to ask a favor of you." He paused, slowly filled the bowl of his pipe, ignited a match on his trouserleg, and, after a few vigorous whiffs, continued, “Sammy, I want you to share my office with me."

The young lawyer opened his mouth to reply, but the old Judge stopped him.

"You haven't heard all the evidence in the case," gravely. "When I leased my suite over the bank, I thought Fred would study law with me and ultimately become my partner. This he has decided not to do; so I have an unoccupied room. I might take a student, but I don't care to do that. What I want is some one that is companionable, with whom I can converse, and with whom I can consult, in whom I can confide, and who is agreeable to my family. Occasionally, too, I need an expert opinion, a precedent that is not worn threadbare a decision handed down by some great Greek or Roman or English jurist unknown to our courts. You see, I'm a little vain of my reputation, but, if I do say it myself, my standing is rather high at Springfield; and even Justice Taney the other day quoted one of my decisions. Now, I'd really like to form a partnership with you. 'Gildersleeve & Simonson' wouldn't look bad, eh, Sammy? But as I am on the bench, that wouldn't do. However, there's no reason why we shouldn't work together, assuming that you are willing; and for your services I'll pay you any amount you may require."

The young lawyer's torture was intense. The old Judge was so gentle and lovable; his faith in him, though a comparative stranger, was so complete! "Oh, if he but knew, if he but knew-Marjorie-if Marjorie were to tell her father-if-"

*All Gaul is divided into three parts.