第142章 PART FIFTH(17)

I feel as if I had lived a whole lifetime since it happened.I don't want you to pity me for it,"she said,forestalling a politeness from Mrs.March."I'm the last one to be thought of,and you mustn't mind me if I try to make you.I came to find out all of the truth that I can,and when I know just what that is I shall know what to do.I have read the inquest;it's all burned into my brain.But I don't care for that--for myself:you must let me say such things without minding me.I know that your husband--that Mr.March was there;I read his testimony;and Iwished to ask him--to ask him--"She stopped and looked distractedly about."But what folly!He must have said everything he knew--he had to."Her eves wandered to him from his wife,on whom she had kept them with instinctive tact.

"I said everything--yes,"he replied."But if you would like to know--""Perhaps I had better tell you something first.I had just parted with him--it couldn't have been more than half an hour--in front of Brentano's;he must have gone straight to his death.We were talking,and I--I said,Why didn't some one go among the strikers and plead with them to be peaceable,and keep them from attacking the new men.I knew that he felt as I did about the strikers:that he was their friend.Did you see--do you know anything that makes you think he had been trying to do that?""I am sorry,"March began,"I didn't see him at all till--till I saw him lying dead.""My husband was there purely by accident,"Mrs.March put in."I had begged and entreated him not to go near the striking anywhere.And he had just got out of the car,and saw the policeman strike that wretched Lindau--he's been such an anxiety to me ever since we have had anything to do with him here;my husband knew him when he was a boy in the West.

Mr.March came home from it all perfectly prostrated;it made us all sick!Nothing so horrible ever came into our lives before.I assure you it was the most shocking experience."Miss Vance listened to her with that look of patience which those who have seen much of the real suffering of the world--the daily portion of the poor--have for the nervous woes of comfortable people.March hung his head;he knew it would be useless to protest that his share of the calamity was,by comparison,infinitesimally small.

After she had heard Mrs.March to the end even of her repetitions,Miss Vance said,as if it were a mere matter of course that she should have looked the affair up,"Yes,I have seen Mr.Lindau at the hospital--""My husband goes every day to see him,"Mrs.March interrupted,to give.

a final touch to the conception of March's magnanimity throughout.

"The poor man seems to have been in the wrong at the time,"said Miss Vance.

"I could almost say he had earned the right to be wrong.He's a man of the most generous instincts,and a high ideal of justice,of equity--too high to be considered by a policeman with a club in his hand,"said March,with a bold defiance of his wife's different opinion of Lindau.

"It's the policeman's business,I suppose,to club the ideal when he finds it inciting a riot.""Oh,I don't blame Mr.Lindau ;I don't blame the policeman;he was as much a mere instrument as his club was.I am only trying to find out how much I am to blame myself.I had no thought of Mr.Dryfoos's going there--of his attempting to talk with the strikers and keep them quiet;I was only thinking,as women do,of what I should try to do if I were a man.

But perhaps he understood me to ask him to go--perhaps my words sent him to his death."She had a sort of calm in her courage to know the worst truth as to her responsibility that forbade any wish to flatter her out of it."I'm afraid,"said March,"that is what can never be known now."After a moment he added:"But why should you wish to know?If he went there as a peacemaker,he died in a good cause,in such a way as he would wish to die,I believe.""Yes,"said the girl;"I have thought of that.But death is awful;we must not think patiently,forgivingly of sending any one to their death in the best cause.""I fancy life was an awful thing to Conrad Dryfoos,"March replied."He was thwarted and disappointed,without even pleasing the ambition that thwarted and disappointed him.That poor old man,his father,warped him from his simple,lifelong wish to be a minister,and was trying to make a business man of him.If it will be any consolation to you to know it,Miss Vance,I can assure you that he was very unhappy,and I don't see how he could ever have been happy here.""It won't,"said the girl,steadily."If people are born into this world,it's because they were meant to live in it.It isn't a question of being happy here;no one is happy,in that old,selfish way,or can be;but he could have been of great use.""Perhaps he was of use in dying.Who knows?He may have been trying to silence Lindau.""Oh,Lindau wasn't worth it!"cried Mrs.March.

Miss Vance looked at her as if she did not quite understand.Then she turned to March."He might have been unhappy,as we all are;but I know that his life here would have had a higher happiness than we wish for or aim for."The tears began to run silently down her cheeks.

"He looked strangely happy that day when he left me.He had hurt himself somehow,and his face was bleeding from a scratch;he kept his handkerchief up;he was pale,but such a light came into his face when he shook hands--ah,I know he went to try and do what I said!"They were all silent,while she dried her eyes and then put her handkerchief back into the pocket from which she had suddenly pulled it,with a series of vivid,young-ladyish gestures,which struck March by their incongruity with the occasion of their talk,and yet by their harmony with the rest of her elegance."I am sorry,Miss Vance)"be began,"that I can't really tell you anything more--""You are very kind,"she said,controlling herself and rising quickly.