第73章
She felt all at once as though a whole new world were opened to her.She stood on Pisgah.And she was ashamed and confused at her ignorance of those things which Corthell tactfully assumed that she knew as a matter of course.What wonderful pleasures she had ignored! How infinitely removed from her had been the real world of art and artists of which Corthell was a part! Ah, but she would make amends now.No more Verdi and Bougereau.She would get rid of the "Bathing Nymphs." Never, never again would she play the "Anvil Chorus." Corthell should select her pictures, and should play to her from Liszt and Beethoven that music which evoked all the turbulent emotion, all the impetuosity and fire and exaltation that she felt was hers.
She wondered at herself.Surely, surely there were two Laura Jadwins.One calm and even and steady, loving the quiet life, loving her home, finding a pleasure in the duties of the housewife.This was the Laura who liked plain, homely, matter-of-fact Mrs.Cressler, who adored her husband, who delighted in Mr.Howells's novels, who abjured society and the formal conventions, who went to church every Sunday, and who was afraid of her own elevator.
But at moments such as this she knew that there was another Laura Jadwin--the Laura Jadwin who might have been a great actress, who had a "temperament," who was impulsive.This was the Laura of the "grand manner,"who played the role of the great lady from room to room of her vast house, who read Meredith, who revelled in swift gallops through the park on jet-black, long-tailed horses, who affected black velvet, black jet, and black lace in her gowns, who was conscious and proud of her pale, stately beauty--the Laura Jadwin, in fine, who delighted to recline in a long chair in the dim, beautiful picture gallery and listen with half-shut eyes to the great golden organ thrilling to the passion of Beethoven and Liszt.
The last notes of the organ sank and faded into silence--a silence that left a sense of darkness like that which follows upon the flight of a falling star, and after a long moment Laura sat upright, adjusting the heavy masses of her black hair with thrusts of her long, white fingers.She drew a deep breath.
"Oh," she said, "that was wonderful, wonderful.It is like a new language--no, it is like new thoughts, too fine for language.""I have always believed so," he answered."Of all the arts, music, to my notion, is the most intimate.At the other end of the scale you have architecture, which is an expression of and an appeal to the common multitude, a whole people, the mass.Fiction and painting, and even poetry, are affairs of the classes, reaching the groups of the educated.But music--ah, that is different, it is one soul speaking to another soul.The composer meant it for you and himself.No one else has anything to do with it.Because his soul was heavy and broken with grief, or bursting with passion, or tortured with doubt, or searching for some unnamed ideal, he has come to you--you of all the people in the world--with his message, and he tells you of his yearnings and his sadness, knowing that you will sympathise, knowing that your soul has, like his, been acquainted with grief, or with gladness; and in the music his soul speaks to yours, beats with it, blends with it, yes, is even, spiritually, married to it."And as he spoke the electrics all over the gallery flashed out in a sudden blaze, and Curtis Jadwin entered the room, crying out:
"Are you here, Laura? By George, my girl, we pulled it off, and I've cleaned up five--hundred--thousand--dollars."
Laura and the artist faced quickly about, blinking at the sudden glare, and Laura put her hand over her eyes.
"Oh, I didn't mean to blind you," said her husband, as he came forward."But I thought it wouldn't be appropriate to tell you the good news in the dark."Corthell rose, and for the first time Jadwin caught sight of him.
"This is Mr.Corthell, Curtis," Laura said."You remember him, of course?""Why, certainly, certainly," declared Jadwin, shaking Corthell's hand."Glad to see you again.I hadn't an idea you were here." He was excited, elated, very talkative."I guess I came in on you abruptly," he observed."They told me Mrs.Jadwin was in here, and Iwas full of my good news.By the way, I do remember now.When I came to look over my mail on the way down town this morning, I found a note from you to my wife, saying you would call to-night.Thought it was for me, and opened it before I found the mistake.""I knew you had gone off with it," said Laura.
"Guess I must have mixed it up with my own mail this morning.I'd have telephoned you about it, Laura, but upon my word I've been so busy all day I clean forgot it.I've let the cat out of the bag already, Mr.
Corthell, and I might as well tell the whole thing now.
I've been putting through a little deal with some Liverpool fellows to-day, and I had to wait down town to get their cables to-night.You got my telephone, did you, Laura?""Yes, but you said then you'd be up in half an hour.""I know--I know.But those Liverpool cables didn't come till all hours.Well, as I was saying, Mr.
Corthell, I had this deal on hand--it was that wheat, Laura, I was telling you about this morning--five million bushels of it, and I found out from my English agent that I could slam it right into a couple of fellows over there, if we could come to terms.We came to terms right enough.
Some of that wheat I sold at a profit of fifteen cents on every bushel.My broker and I figured it out just now before I started home, and, as I say, I'm a clean half million to the good.So much for looking ahead a little further than the next man." He dropped into a chair and stretched his arms wide."Whoo! I'm tired Laura.Seems as though I'd been on my feet all day.
Do you suppose Mary, or Martha, or Maggie, or whatever her name is, could rustle me a good strong cup of tea.