married now. Mrs. K-C was frightfully excited to think that I’d actually seen her and knew of her. Eleanor kept on saying How awful, poor Jeannie. She really is astounding, Mrs. Dorval I mean, to have lived through so much storm and fury and caused it too, and not a sign on her face. She simply can’t
mind
. I wonder if you’ll ever see her again.”
By this time Mother must have received a letter from me, crossing hers, telling her about meeting Hetty but not stressing it much. Things always look more important or morefoolish, you never can tell which, when they’re written, and I had not enlarged on the implications of the meeting.
Now what to do? Probably Rick had never received my letter, but if he had,
after
he’d fallen for Hetty, how he would loathe me.
Paula put her head into my room. “Well? Finished? Hurry up. Aren’t you coming out?” and then she came in and stood looking at me. “Why, what’s the matter?”
“Oh, Paula,” I said, “I think I’ll tell you all about it.” And I did, from the first time that I rode with Hetty over the sage and along the dusty road from Lillooet, down to the time that she went off in the cab with Richard and Molly, right down to Molly’s revealing exuberant letter, and to Mother’s story.
Paula regarded me with her hard, wise, impudent face grown serious. “What shall I do?” I said. “I’ll
have
to go back, Paula. I’ve got to see Hetty. I can’t see Rick now, he’ll just hate me. And I couldn’t do anything with Molly. Uncle David, perhaps. No, I’ve got to see Hetty but probably the harm’s done. If it is harm, and I think it is.”
“Frankie, you must go, at once,” said Paula. “We’ll go out and get your tickets now and you beat it. That’s what you’ll do.”
I left for England.
THIRTEEN
A s the train slid towards London I recognized within myself from time to time the startling nature of this journey for me, inexperienced as I was. At some moments I seemed to be a straw in a stream of cause and effect; but I knew that this was not so and that the very nature and strength of the decision to leave a planned course and come to London alone, to tackle the experienced Hetty alone and try to see her as she was, and to battle her if necessary showed that I had more force than I had given myself credit for. This gave confidence. But Hetty was
terra incognita
and I could not yet estimate my powers there. I said to myself: “Hetty arms herself in silence and withdrawal. So can you. Don’t let her silence reach you.” The strength of Hetty’s silence would be this – that her friend (could she really have a friend?) or lover or antagonist would waste himself in emotion and talk, and Hetty would remain serene and unwasted. Having taken the decision to come to London and seek her out, I no longer felt adolescent. I was armed and adequate, but I was wary enough to suspect the queer exhilaration that I felt. This exhilaration did not come from any power that new knowledge of Hettyhad given me. I was not even glad to have this power because, mistrust her as I might, I yet could not dislike Hetty and did not escape from her attraction. The knowledge which I had, served only to make clear my way. The situation had resolved itself. There was Cliff House, infused always by the mutual trust and affection of people who would never expose each other to grief or shame. And there was Hetty who did not feel the responsibility that love engenders, and for whose complete selfishness her beauty and charm could not atone. Hetty could enter a life and then leave it like the seven devils. And I was sure that if Hetty in an idle or lonely moment entered the integrity of Cliff House, she would later as idly depart and leave wreckage behind. And it would be on Rick that the desolation would chiefly fall. Feeling along this frightening unfamiliar path I found a touchstone. If, when I should see Hetty and show her my mind, she should become either angry or
mind
. I wonder if you’ll ever see her again.”
By this time Mother must have received a letter from me, crossing hers, telling her about meeting Hetty but not stressing it much. Things always look more important or morefoolish, you never can tell which, when they’re written, and I had not enlarged on the implications of the meeting.
Now what to do? Probably Rick had never received my letter, but if he had,
after
he’d fallen for Hetty, how he would loathe me.
Paula put her head into my room. “Well? Finished? Hurry up. Aren’t you coming out?” and then she came in and stood looking at me. “Why, what’s the matter?”
“Oh, Paula,” I said, “I think I’ll tell you all about it.” And I did, from the first time that I rode with Hetty over the sage and along the dusty road from Lillooet, down to the time that she went off in the cab with Richard and Molly, right down to Molly’s revealing exuberant letter, and to Mother’s story.
Paula regarded me with her hard, wise, impudent face grown serious. “What shall I do?” I said. “I’ll
have
to go back, Paula. I’ve got to see Hetty. I can’t see Rick now, he’ll just hate me. And I couldn’t do anything with Molly. Uncle David, perhaps. No, I’ve got to see Hetty but probably the harm’s done. If it is harm, and I think it is.”
“Frankie, you must go, at once,” said Paula. “We’ll go out and get your tickets now and you beat it. That’s what you’ll do.”
I left for England.
THIRTEEN
A s the train slid towards London I recognized within myself from time to time the startling nature of this journey for me, inexperienced as I was. At some moments I seemed to be a straw in a stream of cause and effect; but I knew that this was not so and that the very nature and strength of the decision to leave a planned course and come to London alone, to tackle the experienced Hetty alone and try to see her as she was, and to battle her if necessary showed that I had more force than I had given myself credit for. This gave confidence. But Hetty was
terra incognita
and I could not yet estimate my powers there. I said to myself: “Hetty arms herself in silence and withdrawal. So can you. Don’t let her silence reach you.” The strength of Hetty’s silence would be this – that her friend (could she really have a friend?) or lover or antagonist would waste himself in emotion and talk, and Hetty would remain serene and unwasted. Having taken the decision to come to London and seek her out, I no longer felt adolescent. I was armed and adequate, but I was wary enough to suspect the queer exhilaration that I felt. This exhilaration did not come from any power that new knowledge of Hettyhad given me. I was not even glad to have this power because, mistrust her as I might, I yet could not dislike Hetty and did not escape from her attraction. The knowledge which I had, served only to make clear my way. The situation had resolved itself. There was Cliff House, infused always by the mutual trust and affection of people who would never expose each other to grief or shame. And there was Hetty who did not feel the responsibility that love engenders, and for whose complete selfishness her beauty and charm could not atone. Hetty could enter a life and then leave it like the seven devils. And I was sure that if Hetty in an idle or lonely moment entered the integrity of Cliff House, she would later as idly depart and leave wreckage behind. And it would be on Rick that the desolation would chiefly fall. Feeling along this frightening unfamiliar path I found a touchstone. If, when I should see Hetty and show her my mind, she should become either angry or
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