"I don't know much about 'em myself," hazarded Jadwin, looking at the pictures, "but Laura can tell you.We bought most of 'em while we were abroad, year before last.Laura says this is the best." He indicated a large "Bougereau" that represented a group of nymphs bathing in a woodland pool.
"H'm!" said the broker, "you wouldn't want some of your Sunday-school superintendents to see this now.This is what the boys down on the Board would call a bar-room picture."But Jadwin did not laugh.
"It never struck me in just that way," he said, gravely.
"It's a fine piece of work, though," Gretry hastened to add."Fine, great colouring.""I like this one pretty well," continued Jadwin, moving to a canvas by Detaille.It was one of the inevitable studies of a cuirassier; in this case a trumpeter, one arm high in the air, the hand clutching the trumpet, the horse, foam-flecked, at a furious gallop.In the rear, through clouds of dust, the rest of the squadron was indicated by a few points of colour.
"Yes, that's pretty neat," concurred Gretry."He's sure got a gait on.Lord, what a lot of accoutrements those French fellows stick on.Now our boys would chuck about three-fourths of that truck before going into action....Queer way these artists work," he went on, peering close to the canvas."Look at it close up and it's just a lot of little daubs, but you get off a distance"--he drew back, cocking his head to one side--"and you see now.Hey--see how the thing bunches up.
Pretty neat, isn't it?" He turned from the picture and rolled his eyes about the room.
"Well, well," he murmured."This certainly is the real thing, J.I suppose, now, it all represents a pretty big pot of money.""I'm not quite used to it yet myself," said Jadwin."Iwas in here last Sunday, thinking it all over, the new house, and the money and all.And it struck me as kind of queer the way things have turned out for me....
Sam, do you know, I can remember the time, up there in Ottawa County, Michigan, on my old dad's farm, when Iused to have to get up before day-break to tend the stock, and my sister and I used to run out quick into the stable and stand in the warm cow fodder in the stalls to warm our bare feet.
She up and died when she was about eighteen--galloping consumption.Yes, sir.By George, how I loved that little sister of mine! _You_ remember her, Sam.
Remember how you used to come out from Grand Rapids every now and then to go squirrel shooting with me?""Sure, sure.Oh, I haven't forgot."
"Well, I was wishing the other day that I could bring Sadie down here, and--oh, I don't know--give her a good time.She never had a good time when she was alive.
Work, work, work; morning, noon, and night.I'd like to have made it up to her.I believe in ****** people happy, Sam.That's the way I take my fun.But it's too late to do it now for my little sister.""Well," hazarded Gretry, "you got a good wife in yonder to----"Jadwin interrupted him.He half turned away, thrusting his hands suddenly into his pockets.Partly to himself, partly to his friend he murmured:
"You bet I have, you bet I have.Sam," he exclaimed, then turned away again."...Oh, well, never mind,"he murmured.
Gretry, embarrassed, constrained, put his chin in the air, shutting his eyes in a knowing fashion.
"I understand," he answered."I understand, J.""Say, look at this organ here," said Jadwin briskly.
"Here's the thing I like to play with."
They crossed to the other side of the room.
"Oh, you've got one of those attachment things,"observed the broker.
"Listen now," said Jadwin.He took a perforated roll from the case near at hand and adjusted it, Gretry looking on with the solemn interest that all American business men have in mechanical inventions.Jadwin sat down before it, pulled out a stop or two, and placed his feet on the pedals.A vast preliminary roaring breath soughed through the pipes, with a vibratory rush of power.Then there came a canorous snarl of bass, and then, abruptly, with resistless charm, and with full-bodied, satisfying amplitude of volume the opening movement of the overture of "Carmen.""Great, great!" shouted Gretry, his voice raised to make himself heard."That's immense."The great-lunged harmony was filling the entire gallery, clear cut, each note clearly, sharply treated with a precision that, if mechanical, was yet effective.Jadwin, his eyes now on the stops, now on the sliding strip of paper, played on.Through the sonorous clamour of the pipes Gretry could hear him speaking, but he caught only a word or two.
"Toreador...horse power...Madame Calve...
electric motor...fine song...storage battery."The "movement thinned out, and dwindled to a strain of delicate lightness, sustained by the smallest pipes and developing a new motive; this was twice repeated, and then ran down to a series of chords and bars that prepared for and prefigured some great effect close at hand.There was a short pause, then with the sudden releasing of a tremendous rush of sound, back surged the melody, with redoubled volume and power, to the original movement.
"That's bully, bully!" shouted Gretry, clapping his hands, and his eye, caught by a movement on the other side of the room, he turned about to see Laura Jadwin standing between the opened curtains at the entrance.
Seen thus unexpectedly, the broker was again overwhelmed with a sense of the beauty of Jadwin's wife.Laura was in evening dress of black lace; her arms and neck were bare.Her black hair was piled high upon her head, a single American Beauty rose nodded against her bare shoulder.She was even yet slim and very tall, her face pale with that unusual paleness of hers that was yet a colour.Around her slender neck was a marvellous collar of pearls many strands deep, set off and held in place by diamond clasps.
With Laura came Mrs.Gretry and Page.The broker's wife was a vivacious, small, rather pretty blonde woman, a little angular, a little faded.She was garrulous, witty, slangy.She wore turquoises in her ears morning, noon, and night.
