CHAPTER XXXVIII

e.AfterI’dthoughtitoverawhile,Igotbrisk.IwantedtolocateBernie.Hadaspecialreasonforit.Itwastimehegaveuphisfoolhoboingandcometohissenses.Drawingthatfifteentoldmetherewassomethinginthewind.ThemanagercommunicatedwiththeAynsleys—hiswifewasanAynsley—andfoundoutthatBernardRedfernhadboughtapearlnecklacethere.HisaddresswasgivenasBox444,PortLawrence,Muskoka,Ont.FirstIthoughtI’dwrite.ThenIthoughtI’dwaittilltheopenseasonforcarsandcomedownmyself.Ain’tnohandatwriting.I’vemotoredfromMontreal.GottoPortLawrenceyesterday.Enquiredatthepost-office.ToldmetheyknewnothingofanyBernardSnaithRedfern,buttherewasaBarneySnaithhadaP.O.boxthere.Livedonanislandouthere,theysaid.SohereIam.Andwhere’sBarney?” Valancywasfingeringhernecklace.Shewaswearingfifteenthousanddollarsaroundherneck.AndshehadworriedlestBarneyhadpaidfifteendollarsforitandcouldn’taffordit.SuddenlyshelaughedinDr.Redfern’sface. “Excuseme.It’sso—amusing,”saidpoorValancy. “Isn’tit?”saidDr.Redfern,seeingajoke—butnotexactlyhers.“Now,youseemlikeasensibleyoungwoman,andIdaresayyou’velotsofinfluenceoverBernie.Can’tyougethimtocomebacktocivilisationandlivelikeotherpeople?I’veahouseupthere.Bigasacastle.Furnishedlikeapalace.Iwantcompanyinit—Bernie’swife—Bernie’schildren.” “DidEthelTraverseevermarry?”queriedValancyirrelevantly. “Blessyou,yes.TwoyearsafterBernielevanted.Butshe’sawidownow.Prettyasever.Tobefrank,thatwasmyspecialreasonforwantingtofindBernie.Ithoughtthey’dmakeitup,maybe.But,ofcourse,that’salloffnow.Doesn’tmatter.Bernie’schoiceofawifeisgoodenoughforme.It’smyboyIwant.Thinkhe’llsoonbeback?” “Idon’tknow.ButIdon’tthinkhe’llcomebeforenight.Quitelate,perhaps.Andperhapsnottilltomorrow.ButIcanputyouupcomfortably.He’llcertainlybebacktomorrow.” Dr.Redfernshookhishead. “Toodamp.I’lltakenochanceswithrheumatism.” “Whysufferthatceaselessanguish?WhynottryRedfern’sLiniment?”quotedtheimpinthebackofValancy’smind. “ImustgetbacktoPortLawrencebeforerainstarts.Henrygoesquitemadwhenhegetsmudonthecar.ButI’llcomebacktomorrow.MeanwhileyoutalkBernieintoreason.” Heshookherhandandpattedherkindlyontheshoulder.Helookedasifhewouldhavekissedher,withalittleencouragement,butValancydidnotgiveit.Notthatshewouldhaveminded.Hewasratherdreadfulandloud—and—and—dreadful.Buttherewassomethingabouthimsheliked.Shethoughtdullythatshemighthavelikedbeinghisdaughter-in-lawifhehadnotbeenamillionaire.Ascoreoftimesover.AndBarneywashisson—andheir. ShetookhimoverinthemotorboatandwatchedthelordlypurplecarrollawaythroughthewoodswithHenryatthewheellookingthingsnotlawfultobeuttered.ThenshewentbacktotheBlueCastle.Whatshehadtodomustbedonequickly.Barneymightreturnatanymoment.Anditwascertainlygoingtorain.Shewasthankfulshenolongerfeltverybad.Whenyouarebludgeonedontheheadrepeatedly,younaturallyandmercifullybecomemoreorlessinsensibleandstupid. Shestoodbrieflylikeafadedflowerbittenbyfrost,bythehearth,lookingdownonthewhiteashesofthelastfirethathadblazedintheBlueCastle. “Atanyrate,”shethoughtwearily,“Barneyisn’tpoor.Hewillbeabletoaffordadivorce.Quitenicely.”