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Unleavened Bread, a novel by Robert Grant

Book 3. The Success - Chapter 3

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_ BOOK III. THE SUCCESS
CHAPTER III

Miss Luella Bailey was not elected. The unenlightened prejudice of man to prefer one of his own sex, combined with the hostility of the Reform Club, procured her defeat, notwithstanding that the rest of her ticket triumphed at the polls. There was some consolation for her friends in the fact that her rival, Miss Snow, had a considerably smaller number of votes than she. Selma solaced herself by the reflection that, as she had been consulted only at the twelfth hour, she was not responsible for the result, but she felt nerved by the defeat to concentrate her energies against the proposed bill for an appointed school board.

Her immediate attention and sympathy were suddenly invoked by the illness of Mr. Parsons, who had seemed lacking in physical vigor for some weeks, and whose symptoms culminated in a slight paralysis, which confined him to his bed for a month, and to his house during the remainder of the autumn. Selma rejoiced in this opportunity to develop her capacities as a nurse, to prove how adequate she would have been to take complete charge of her late husband, had Dr. Page chosen to trust her. She administered with scrupulous regularity to the invalid such medicines as were ordered, and kept him cheerful by reading and conversation, so that the physician in charge complimented her on her proficiency. Trained nurses were unknown in Benham at this time, and any old or unoccupied female was regarded as qualified to watch over the sick. Selma appreciated from what she had observed of the conduct of Wilbur's nurse that there was a wrong and a right way of doing things, but she blamed Dr. Page for his failure to appreciate instinctively that she was sure to do things suitably. It seemed to her that he had lacked the intuitive gift to discern latent capabilities--a fault of which the Benham practitioner proved blameless.

From the large, sunny chamber in which Mr. Parsons slowly recovered some portion of his vitality, Selma could discern the distant beginnings of Wetmore College, pleasantly situated on an elevation well beyond the city limits on the further side of the winding river. An architect had been engaged to carry out Wilbur's plans, and she watched the outlines of the new building gradually take shape during the convalescence of her benefactor. She recognized that the college would be theoretically a noble addition to the standing of Benham as a city of intellectual and aesthetic interests, but it provoked her to think that its management was in the hands of Mrs. Hallett Taylor and her friends, between whom and herself she felt that a chasm of irreconcilable differences of opinion existed. Mrs. Taylor had not called on her since her return. She believed that she was glad of this, and hoped that some of the severely indignant criticism which she had uttered in regard to the Reform Club movement had reached her ears. Or was Mrs. Taylor envious of her return to Benham as the true mistress of this fine establishment on the River Drive, so superior to her own? Nevertheless, it would have suited Selma to have been one of the trustees of this new college--her husband's handiwork in the doing of which he had laid down his promising life--and the fact that no one had sought her out and offered her the honor as a fitting recognition of her due was secretly mortifying. The Benham Institute had been prompt to acknowledge her presence by giving a reception in her honor, at which she was able to recite once more, "Oh, why should the Spirit of Mortal be proud?" with old-time success, and she had been informed by Mrs. Earle that she was likely to be chosen one of the Vice-Presidents at the annual meeting. But these Reform Club people had not even done her the courtesy to ask her to join them or consider their opinions. She would have spurned the invitation with contempt, but it piqued her not to know more about them; it distressed her to think that there should exist in Benham an exclusive set which professed to be ethically and intellectually superior and did not include her, for she had come to Benham with the intention of leading such a movement, to the detriment of fashion and frivolity. With Mr. Parsons's money at her back, she was serenely confident that the houses of the magnates of Benham--the people who corresponded in her mind's eye to the dwellers on Fifth Avenue--would open to her. Already there had been flattering indications that she would be able to command attention there. She had expected to find this so; her heart would have been broken to find it otherwise. Still, her hope in shaking the dust of New York from her feet had been to find in Benham an equally admirable and satisfactory atmosphere in regard to mental and moral progress. She had come just in time, it is true, to utter her vehement protest against this exclusive, aristocratic movement--this arrogant affectation of superiority, and to array herself in battle line against it, resolved to give herself up with enthusiasm to its annihilation. Yet the sight of the college buildings for the higher education of women, rising without her furtherance and supervision, and under the direction of these people, made her sad and gave her a feeling of disappointment. Why had they been permitted to obtain this foothold? Someone had been lacking in vigilance and foresight. Thank heaven, with her return and a strong, popular spirit like Mr. Lyons in the lead, these unsympathetic, so-called reformers would speedily be confounded, and the intellectual air of Benham restored to its original purity.

One afternoon while Selma's gaze happened to be directed toward the embryo college walls, and she was incubating on the situation, Mr. Parsons, who had seemed to be dozing, suddenly said:

"I should like you to write to Mr. Lyons, the lawyer, and ask him to come to see me."

"I will write to-night. You know he called while you were ill."

"Yes, I thought him a clever fellow when we met two or three times on railroad matters, and I gather from what you told me about his speech at the political meeting that he's a rising man hereabouts. I'm going to make my will, and I need him to put it into proper shape."

"I'm sure he'd do it correctly."

"There's not much for him to do except to make sure that the language is legal, for I've thought it all out while I've been lying here during these weeks. Still, it's important to have in a lawyer to fix it so the people whom I don't intend to get my money shan't be able to make out that I'm not in my right mind. I guess," he added, with a laugh, "that the doctor will allow I've my wits sufficiently for that?"

"Surely. You are practically well now."

Mr. Parsons was silent for a moment. He prided himself on being close-mouthed about his private affairs until they were ripe for utterance. His intention had been to defer until after the interview with his lawyer any statement of his purpose, but it suddenly occurred to him that it would please him to unbosom his secret to his companion because he felt sure in advance that she would sympathize fully with his plans. He had meant to tell her when the instrument was signed. Why not now?

"Selma," he said, "I've known ever since my wife and daughter died that I ought to make a will, but I kept putting it off until it has almost happened that everything I've got went to my next of kin--folk I'm fond of, too, and mean to remember--but not fond enough for that. If I give them fifty thousand dollars apiece--the three of them--I shall rest easy in my grave, even if they think they ought to have had a bigger slice. It's hard on a man who has worked all his days, and laid up close to a million of dollars, not to have a son or a daughter, flesh of my flesh, to leave it to; a boy or a girl given at the start the education I didn't get, and who, by the help of my money, might make me proud, if I could look on, of my name or my blood. It wasn't to be, and I must grin and bear it, and do the next best thing. I caught a glimpse of what that thing was soon after I lost my wife and daughter, and it was the thought of that more than anything which kept me from going crazy with despair. I'm a plain man, an uneducated man, but the fortune I've made has been made honestly, and I'm going to spend it for the good of the American people--to contribute my mite toward helping the cause of truth and good citizenship and free and independent ideas which this nation calls for. I'm going to give my money for benevolent uses."

"Oh, Mr. Parsons," exclaimed Selma, clasping her hands, "how splendid! how glorious! How I envy you. It was what I hoped."

"I knew you would be pleased. I've had half a mind once or twice to let the cat out of the bag, because I guessed it would be the sort of thing that would take your fancy; but somehow I've kept mum, for fear I might be taken before I'd been able to make a will. And then, too, I've been of several minds as to the form of my gift. I thought it would suit me best of all to found a college, and I was disappointed when I learned that neighbor Flagg had got the start of me with his seminary for women across the river. I wasn't happy over it until one night, just after the doctor had gone, the thought came to me, 'Why, not give a hospital?' And that's what it's to be. Five hundred thousand dollars for a free hospital in the City of Benham, in memory of my wife and daughter. That'll be useful, won't it? That'll help the people as much as a college? And, Selma," he added, cutting off the assuring answer which trembled on her tongue and blazed from her eyes, "I shan't forget you. After I'm gone you are to have twenty thousand dollars. That'll enable you, in case you don't marry, to keep a roof over your head without working too hard."

"Thank you. You are very generous," she said. The announcement was pleasant to her, but at the moment it seemed of secondary importance. Her enthusiasm had been aroused by the fact and character of his public donation, and already her brain was dancing with the thought of the prospect of a rival vital institution in connection with which her views and her talents would in all probability be consulted and allowed to exercise themselves. Her's, and not Mrs. Taylor's, or any of that censorious and restricting set. In that hospital, at least, ambition and originality would be allowed to show what they could do unfettered by envy or paralyzed by conservatism. "But I can't think of anything now, Mr. Parsons, except the grand secret you have confided to me. A hospital! It is an ideal gift. It will show the world what noble uses our rich, earnest-minded men make of their money, and it will give our doctors and our people a chance to demonstrate what a free hospital ought to be. Oh, I congratulate you. I will write to Mr. Lyons at once."

A note in prompt response stated the hour when the lawyer would call. On his arrival he was shown immediately to Mr. Parsons's apartments, with whom he was closeted alone. Selma managed to cross the hall at the moment he was descending, and he was easily persuaded to linger and to follow her into the library.

"I was anxious to say a few words to you, Mr. Lyons," she said. "I know the purpose for which Mr. Parsons sent for you. He has confided to me concerning his will--told me everything. It is a noble disposition of his property. A free hospital for Benham is an ideal selection, and one envies him his opportunity."

"Yes. It is a superb and generous benefaction."

"I lay awake for hours last night thinking about it; thinking particularly of the special point I am desirous to consult you in regard to. I don't wish to appear officious, or to say anything I shouldn't, but knowing from what I heard you state in your speech the other day that you feel as I do in regard to such matters, I take the liberty of suggesting that it seems to me of very great importance that the management of this magnificent gift should be in proper hands. May I ask you without impropriety if you will protect Mr. Parsons so that captious or unenthusiastic persons, men or women, will be unable to control the policy of his hospital? He would wish it so, I am sure. I thought of mentioning the matter to him myself, but I was afraid lest it might worry him and spoil the satisfaction of his generosity or retard his cure. Is what I ask possible? Do I make myself clear?"

"Perfectly--perfectly. A valuable suggestion," he said. "I am glad that you have spoken--very glad. Alive as I am to the importance of protecting ourselves at all points, I might not have realized this particular danger had you not called it to my attention. Perhaps only a clever woman would have thought of it."

"Oh, thank you. I felt that I could not keep silence, and run the risk of what might happen."

"Precisely. I think I can relieve your mind by telling you--which under the circumstances is no breach of professional secrecy, for it is plain that the testator desires you to know his purpose--that Mr. Parsons has done me the honor to request me to act as the executor of his will. As such I shall be in a position to make sure that those to whom the management of his hospital is intrusted are people in whom you and I would have confidence."

"Ah! That is very satisfactory. It makes everything as it should be, and I am immensely relieved."

"Now that you have spoken," he added, meeting her eager gaze with a propitiating look of reflective wisdom, "I will consider the advisability of taking the further precaution of advising the testator to name in his will the persons who shall act as the trustees of his charity. That would clinch the matter. The selection of the individuals would necessarily lie with Mr. Parsons, but it would seem eminently natural and fitting that he should name you to represent your sex on such a board. I hope it would be agreeable to you to serve?"

Selma flushed. "It would be a position which I should prize immensely. Such a possibility had not occurred to me, though I felt that some definite provision should be made. The responsibility would be congenial to me and very much in my line."

"Assuredly. If you will permit me to say so, you are just the woman for the place. We have met only a few times, Mrs. Littleton, but I am a man who forms my conclusions of people rapidly, and it is obvious to me that you are thoughtful, energetic, and liberal-minded--qualities which are especially requisite for intelligent progress in semi-public work. It is essentially desirable to enlist the co-operation of well-equipped women to promote the national weal."

Lyons departed with an agreeable impression that he had been talking to a woman who combined mental sagacity and enterprise with considerable fascination of person. This capable companion of Mr. Parsons was no coquettish or simpering beauty, no mere devotee of fashionable manners, but a mature, well-poised character endowed with ripe intellectual and bodily graces. Their interview suggested that she possessed initiative and discretion in directing the course of events, and a strong sense of moral responsibility, attributes which attracted his interest. He was obliged to make two more visits before the execution of the will, and on each occasion he had an opportunity to spend a half-hour alone in the society of Selma. He found her gravely and engagingly sympathetic with his advocacy of democratic principles; he told her of his ambition to be elected to Congress--an ambition which he believed would be realized the following autumn. He confided to her, also, that he was engaged in his leisure moments in the preparation of a literary volume to be entitled, "Watchwords of Patriotism," a study of the requisites of the best citizenship, exemplified by pertinent extracts from the public utterances of the most distinguished American public servants.

Selma on her part reciprocated by a reference to the course of lectures on "Culture and Higher Education," which she had resolved to deliver before the Benham Institute during the winter. In these lectures she meant to emphasize the importance of unfettered individuality, and to comment adversely on the tendencies hostile to this fundamental principle of progress which she had observed in New York and from which Benham itself did not appear to her to be entirely exempt. After delivering these lectures in Benham she intended to repeat them in various parts of the State, and in some of the large cities elsewhere, under the auspices of the Confederated Sisterhood of Women's Clubs of America, the Sorosis which Mrs. Earle had established on a firm basis, and of which at present she was second vice-president. As a token of sympathy with this undertaking, Mr. Lyons offered to procure her a free pass on the railroads over which she would be obliged to travel. This pleased Selma greatly, for she had always regarded free passes as a sign of mysterious and enviable importance.

Two months later Selma, as secretary of the sub-committee of the Institute selected to oppose before the legislature the bill to create an appointed school board, had further occasion to confer with Mr. Lyons. He agreed to be the active counsel, and approved of the plan that a delegation of women should journey to the capital, two hours and a half by rail, and add the moral support of their presence at the hearing before the legislative committee.

The expedition was another gratification to Selma--who had become possessed of her free pass. She felt that in visiting the state-house and thus taking an active part in the work of legislation she was beginning to fulfil the larger destiny for which she was qualified. Side by side with Mrs. Earle at the head of a delegation of twenty Benham women she marched augustly into the committee chamber. The contending factions sat on opposite sides of the room. Through its middle ran a long table occupied by the Committee on Education to which the bill had been referred. Among the dozen or fifteen persons who appeared in support of the bill Selma perceived Mrs. Hallett Taylor, whom she had not seen since her return. She was disappointed to observe that Mrs. Taylor's clothes, though unostentatious, were in the latest fashion. She had hoped to find her dowdy or unenlightened, and to be able to look down on her from the heights of her own New York experience.

The lawyer in charge of the bill presented lucidly and with skill the merits of his case, calling to the stand four prominent educators from as many different sections of the State, and several citizens of well-known character, among them Babcock's former pastor, Rev. Henry Glynn. He pointed out that the school committee, as at present constituted, was an unwieldy body of twenty-four members, that it was regarded as the first round in the ladder of political preferment, and that the members which composed it were elected not on the ground of their fitness, but because they were ambitious for political recognition.

The legislative committee listened politely but coldly to these statements and to the testimony of the witnesses. It was evident that they regarded the proposed reform with distrust.

"Do you mean us to understand that the public schools of this State are not among the best, if not the best, in the world?" asked one member of the committee, somewhat sternly.

"I recognize the merits of our school system, but I am not blind to its faults," responded the attorney in charge of the bill. He was a man who possessed the courage of his convictions, but he was a lawyer of tact, and he knew that his answer went to the full limit of what he could safely utter by way of qualification without hopelessly imperilling his cause.

"Are not our public schools turning out yearly hundreds of boys and girls who are a growing credit to the soundness of the institutions of the country?" continued the same inquisitor.

Here was a proposition which opened such a vista of circuitous and careful speech, were he to attempt to answer it and be true to conscience without being false to patriotism, that Mr. Hunter was driven to reply, "I am unable to deny the general accuracy of your statement."

"Then why seek to harass those who are doing such good work by unfriendly legislation?"

The member plainly felt that he had disposed of the matter by this triumphant interrogation, for he listened with scant attention to a repetition of the grounds on which, relief was sought.

Mr. Lyons's method of reply was a surprise to Selma. She had looked for a fervid vindication of the principle of the people's choice, and an eloquent, sarcastic setting forth of the evils of the exclusive and aristocratic spirit. He began by complimenting the members of the committee on their ability to deal intelligently with the important question before them, and then proceeded to refer to the sincere but mistaken zeal of the advocates of the bill, whom he described as people animated by conscientious motives, but unduly distrustful of the capacity of the American people. His manner suggested a desire to be at peace with all the world and was agreeably conciliatory, as though he deprecated the existence of friction. He said that he would not do the members of the committee the injustice to suppose that they could seriously favor the passage of a bill which would deprive the intelligent average voter of one of his dearest privileges; but that he desired to put himself on record as thinking it a fortunate circumstance, on the whole, that the well-intentioned promoters of the bill had brought this matter to the attention of the legislature, and had an opportunity to express their views. He believed that the hearing would be productive of benefit to both parties, in that on the one hand it would tend to make the voters more careful as to whom they selected for the important duties of the school board, and on the other would--he, as a lover of democratic institutions, hoped--serve to convince the friends of the bill that they had exaggerated the evils of the situation, and that they were engaged in a false and hopeless undertaking in seeking to confine by hard and fast lines the spontaneous yearnings of the American people to control the education of their children. "We say to these critics," he continued, "some of whom are enrolled under the solemn name of reformers, that we welcome their zeal and offer co-operation in a resolute purpose to exercise unswerving vigilance in the selection of candidates for the high office of guardians of our public schools. So far as they will join hands with us in keeping undefiled the traditions of our forefathers, to that extent we are heartily in accord with them, but when they seek to override those traditions and to fasten upon this community a method which is based on a lack of confidence in democratic theories, then I--and gentlemen, I feel sure that you--are against them."

Lyons sat down, having given everyone in the room, with the exception of a few discerning spirits on the other side, the impression that he had intended to be pre-eminently fair, and that he had held out the olive branch when he would have been justified in using the scourge. The inclination to make friends, to smooth over seamy situations and to avoid repellent language in dealing with adversaries, except in corporation cases before juries and on special occasions when defending his political convictions, had become a growing tendency with him now that he was in training for public office. Selma did not quite know what to make of it at first. She had expected that he would crush their opponents beneath an avalanche of righteous invective. Instead he took his seat with an expression of countenance which was no less benignant than dignified. When the hearing was declared closed, a few minutes later, he looked in her direction, and in the course of his passage to where she was sitting stopped to exchange affable greetings with assemblymen and others who came in his way. At his approach Mrs. Earle uttered congratulations so comprehensive that Selma felt able to refrain for the moment from committing herself. "I am glad that you were pleased," he said. "I think I covered the ground, and no one's feelings have been hurt." As though he divined what was passing through Selma's mind, he added in an aside intended only for their ears, "It was not necessary to use all our powder, for I could tell from the way the committee acted that they were with us."

"I felt sure they would be," exclaimed Mrs. Earle. "And, as you say, it is a pleasure that no one's feelings were hurt, and that we can all part friends."

"Which reminds me," said Lyons, "that I should be glad of an introduction to Mrs. Taylor as she passes us on her way out. I wish to assure her personally of my willingness to further her efforts to improve the quality of the school board."

"That would be nice of you," said Mrs. Earle, "and ought to please and encourage her, for she will be disappointed, poor thing, and after all I suppose she means well. There she is now, and I will keep my eye on her."

"But surely, Mr. Lyons," said Selma, dazed yet interested by this doctrine of brotherly love, "don't you think our school committee admirable as it is?"

"A highly efficient body," he answered. "But I should be glad to have our opponents--mistaken as we believe them to be--appreciate that we no less than they are zealous to preserve the present high standard. We must make them recognize that we are reformers and in sympathy with reform."

"I see," said Selma. "For, of course, we are the real reformers. Convert them you mean? Be civil to them at least? I understand. Yes, I suppose there is no use in making enemies of them." She was thinking aloud. Though ever on her guard to resent false doctrine, she was so sure of the loyalty of both her companions that she could allow herself to be interested by this new point of view--a vast improvement on the New York manner because of its ethical suggestion. She realized that if Mr. Lyons was certain of the committee, it was right, and at the same time sensible, not to hurt anyone's feelings unnecessarily--although she felt a little suspicious because he had asked to be introduced to Mrs. Taylor. Indeed, the more she thought of this attitude, on the assumption that the victory was assured, the more it appealed to her conscience and intelligence; so much so that when Mrs. Earle darted forward to detain Mrs. Taylor, Selma was reflecting with admiration on his magnanimity.

She observed intently the meeting between Mr. Lyons and Mrs. Taylor. He was deferential, complimentary, and genial, and he made a suave, impressive offer of his personal services, in response to which Mrs. Taylor regarded him with smiling incredulity--a smile which Selma considered impertinent. How dared she treat his courtly advances with flippant distrust!

"Are you aware, Mr. Lyons," Mrs. Taylor was saying, "that one of the present members of the school board is a milkman, and another a carpenter--both of them persons of very ordinary efficiency from an educational standpoint? Will you co-operate with us, when their terms expire next year and they seek re-election, to nominate more suitable candidates in their stead?"

"I shall be very glad when the time comes to investigate carefully their qualifications, and if they are proved to be unworthy of the confidence of the people, to use my influence against them. You may rely on this--rely on my cordial support, and the support of these ladies," he added, indicating Mrs. Earle and Selma, with a wave of his hand, "who, if you will permit me to say so, are no less interested than you in promoting good government."

"Oh, yes, indeed. We thought we were making an ideal choice in Miss Luella Bailey," said Mrs. Earle with effusion. "If Mrs. Taylor had seen more of her, I feel sure she would have admired her, and then our Institute would not have been dragged into politics."

Mrs. Taylor did not attempt to answer this appeal. Instead she greeted Selma civilly, and said, "I was sorry to hear that you were against us, Mrs. Littleton. We were allies once in a good cause, and in spite of Mr. Lyons's protestations to the contrary, I assure you that this is another genuine opportunity to improve the existing order of things. At least," she added, gayly but firmly, "you must not let Mr. Lyons's predilection to see everything through rose-colored spectacles prevent you from looking into the matter on your own account."

"I have done so already," answered Selma, affronted at the suggestion that she was uninformed, yet restrained from displaying her annoyance by the sudden inspiration that here was an admirable opportunity to practise the proselytizing forbearance suggested by Mr. Lyons. The idea of patronizing Mrs. Taylor from the vantage-ground of infallibility, tinctured by magnanimous condescension, appealed to her. "I have made a thorough study of the question, and I never could look at it as you do, Mrs. Taylor. I sided with you before because I thought you were right--because you were in favor of giving everyone a chance of expression. But now I'm on the other side for the same reason--because you and your friends are disposed to deprive people of that very thing, and to regard their aspirations and their efforts contemptuously, if I may say so. That's the mistake we think you make--we who, as Mr. Lyons has stated, are no less eager than you to maintain the present high character of everything which concerns our school system. But if you only would see things in a little different light, both Mrs. Earle and I would be glad to welcome you as an ally and to co-operate with you."

Selma had not expected to make such a lengthy speech, but as she proceeded she was spurred by the desire to teach Mrs. Taylor her proper place, and at the same time to proclaim her own allegiance to the attitude of optimistic forbearance.

"I knew that was the way they felt," said Lyons, ingratiatingly. "It would be a genuine pleasure to us all to see this unfortunate difference of opinion between earnest people obviated."

Mrs. Taylor, as Selma was pleased to note, flushed at her concluding offer, and she answered, drily, "I fear that we are too far apart in our ideas to talk of co-operation. If our bill is defeated this year, we shall have to persevere and trust to the gradual enlightenment of public sentiment. Good afternoon."

Selma left the State-house in an elated frame of mind. She felt that she had taken a righteous and patriotic stand, and it pleased her to think that she was taking an active part in defending the institutions of the country. She chatted eagerly as she walked through the corridors with Mr. Lyons, who, portly and imposing, acted as escort to her and Mrs. Earle, and invited them to luncheon at a hotel restaurant. Excitement had given her more color than usual, to which her mourning acted as a foil, and she looked her best. Lyons was proud of being in the company of such a presentable and spirited appearing woman, and made a point of stopping two or three members of the legislature and introducing them to her. When they reached the restaurant he established them at a table where they could see everybody and be seen, and he ordered scolloped oysters, chicken-salad, ice-cream, coffee, and some bottles of sarsaparilla. Both women were in high spirits, and Selma was agreeably conscious that people were observing them. Before the repast was over a messenger brought a note to Mr. Lyons, which announced that the legislative committee had given the petitioners leave to withdraw their bill, which, in Selma's eyes, justified the management of the affair, and set the seal of complete success on an already absorbing and delightful occasion. _

Read next: Book 3. The Success: Chapter 4

Read previous: Book 3. The Success: Chapter 2

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