Chapter XI: Archie Decides

"ANOTHER disturbing time," said Val, curling her feet under her as she tucked her small self away in a big chair. "I hate these making up your mind spots to come. Don't you, Theo?"

"Yes," replied Theo; "although I must say, my own decisions were reached some time ago."

"Oh, you old Mother Bunch. Of course you want to go home. So do I, for that matter. But I do love New York, and I wish we could just keep on this way for years and years. It's all very well for people to say, 'Be sure you're right, then go ahead.' It isn't the going ahead that's hard, it's the being sure you're right. Now, if you and auntie could go to Europe with me, I should like it of all things. But when auntie leaves it all to me, I don't want quite so much to go."

"Auntie thinks we are old enough to exercise some judgment in such matters."

"Well, so we are."

"You will like the excitement of travelling and meeting people. You know you will, Val. I don't believe you would care to settle down quietly anywhere."

"Now, Theo."

"Oh, I don't mean that you would be unhappy with us, but that you are just the one to go about and be in a stir."

"I must confess I do like excitement," admitted Val, "but I wish you would go. You could, Theo. Don't you believe you could?"

"I wouldn't leave auntie alone; and if Archie decided to stay here, auntie would be alone. And if he decides to go back to Roseville, it would be deserting him, in a measure. So you see, that is the way of it. I should enjoy immensely a trip to Europe. Of course I should; but just now it seems better for me to stay here."

"And Nannie is going, too," observed Val.

"I shall miss you both," said Theo, a little sadly.

"And if Archie should not stay here, Mr. Smith will be disappointed, though he will not advise him to stay. How hard it is to suit everybody in this world, and how queer that we should all be in this uncertain state of mind just at the same time. What do you suppose Archie will conclude to do?"

"That will depend upon several things," replied Theo, thoughtfully.

"If it depends upon one thing, I should be willing to prophesy that he will not stay here," remarked Val.

"Don't prophesy," Theo warned. "Archie will do what he believes to be right, I am sure, no matter what may influence him."

"I know that. I wonder if I shall like travelling with Mrs. Westerly. She is a dear woman. But when one has to be day in and day out with a person, it is a pretty severe strain. I'd better say, no doubt, how will she like travelling with me. I think it is very good of her to be willing to do it."

"Why don't you try to persuade the Colonel to go, too?" asked Theo. "That would make it so pleasant for Mrs. Westerly: She is about as fond of her brother as I am of mine."

"That would be a scheme," agreed Val. "I'll begin to coax the Colonel to-night. I don't believe he will consent to stay two years, though he might as well as not. Think of it, Theo. Two whole years to stay away! Don't it seem an age?"

"It does, certainly; and yet we have been in New York nearly that long."

"I wonder what will happen before I get back," said Val, thoughtfully. "So much might, you know; it makes me dread going so far away."

"I wouldn't take a gloomy view of it. We shall all probably live along in a jog-trot sort of a way while you are flying about acquiring information. I believe I do envy you a little bit, Val."

"But not enough to make up your mind to go with us; and it would be such an advantage to you, Theo."

"No more tempting, if you please," returned Theo, shaking her head determinedly. "'I'se 'bleedged to stay,' as Mammy would say."

"I know one thing that I think will happen before I get back," said Val, suddenly. "Jack will come back. I was talking to the Colonel yesterday, and he said he did not think Jack would stay away much longer. Why, Theo, do you know anything? You look so—so funny."

"Do I look funny?" And Theo turned her head so Val could see only the tips of two very pink little ears.

But that did not satisfy Val, who got up and went around directly in front of Theo, looking at her searchingly. But Theo would not give her so much as a glance.

"Look at me," ordered Val, peremptorily.

And Theo raised her eyes with a look in them half proud, half deprecating.

"Theo, you're a fraud," was Val's only comment. Then she walked away, and for some time stood looking out of the window in silence.

Theo did not follow her, nor did she in any way contradict Val's assertion.

And presently Nannie came in, full of her own plans for the next year.

"Just think, girls," she said. "I have been to see Miss Van Arsdale, and she has given me a lot of points about Paris. She was there for three years, you know, and knows all about it,—all the cheap places and everything,—and if I can get another girl to go with me, we can live so economically. Oh, if you all could go, it would be so nice; but I suppose there is no use hoping for it. I have exhausted all my eloquence on you, Theo, so I shall have to give up that idea. Miss Van Arsdale told me of a cunning apartment that she thinks I can get. Some friends of hers are occupying it now, but they are going to leave very soon; and I'm going to write about it right away. I'll have to furnish it with trunk-trays and things; but I can manage, I know."

"Trunk-trays!" exclaimed Val.

"Yes; don't you know? I can make tops of tables and all sorts of things that way. I know how. To-morrow I am going to see Katherine Armistead. She half thought she would go over; and if she finds how much we can save by going together, I believe she will join me. She is such a nice girl; I am sure we could get along together. Oh, girls! Just think—my dream is to be fulfilled, my dream of going to Paris! It is so good of mamma not to object. She said if I could live there as cheaply as here, and if I could find some nice somebody to go with me, she would give her consent. I have saved enough for my passage; so, of course, if I can induce Katherine to go, there will be nothing at all in the way. And, oh, Val! I shall see you over there. You have decided to go, haven't you?"

"I am deciding," replied Val. "If the Colonel will go, I will; it would be so nice to have him to squabble with. I should never feel like squabbling with Mrs. Westerly. I couldn't 'get a rise out of her,' as Archie says. She would smile me down in that gently tolerant way she has, and there would be no fun in trying to tease her. But the Colonel,—I love to 'sass' the Colonel. He never gets used to it, and it would be so exciting, especially when he didn't know the language and I did. We could have such spats, and I could put him down so nicely with my superior knowledge. Oh, I do hope he will go. When shall you sail, Nan?"

"Oh, I don't know; as soon as I can. I am poring over sailing lists and getting cheap rates and comparing different routes now; so I shall come to a conclusion before long. I wish we could go over together, but you will probably be taking some steamer whose rates would ruin me. And then I shall probably be sailing before you are ready to go."

"What a breaking up it will be," said Theo. "Auntie and I will have to console each other and Archie."

"Oh, Archie would be happy anywhere," remarked Nannie, lightly. "I don't believe he would care much where he went; he would always manage to have a good time."

But Archie did care, for when that evening Nannie told him of her plans, he listened a little impatiently. "How long shall you be away?" he asked.

"How can I tell?" answered Nannie, smiling. "As long as I can get needful study, but not too long to stamp me as a foreigner. I believe too much in the future of American art to content myself with a whole life spent in exile."

"Then you don't want to go?" he said, brightening up.

"Oh, yes, I do, above all things; it has been my dream for years. I shall not even be content if I am fortunate enough to exhibit once in the Salon. I shall work and work till I can stand entirely alone wherever I may be."

"But maybe you will not always want to stand alone," suggested Archie.

"Why? What do you mean?"

"You might marry; women do sometimes."

"I shall not."

"I wouldn't be too sure."

"But I don't want to. I think there are some women who are happier single. I love my work better than I could any man; or, at least, I should never be willing to give it up for any other life."

"Perhaps you would not be called upon to do that."

"Oh, well, maybe, if I could meet some great artist who could be generous enough to allow me to work side by side with him, I might think of it. But there is hardly the remotest possibility of that."

"And no one else could ever persuade you?"

"No, indeed," laughed Nannie, looking at him with clear eyes. "I am quite sure. How you men do love to argue a woman into giving up a career. You cannot convince me that I do not know myself. I do, and am delighted at my prospect of a free, unhampered life. I want to paint, and I don't want to keep house, and go to market, and bother about servants and shirt-buttons and gas-bills. I don't want to be held responsible for my misdemeanors or mistakes to any one but Nannie Talcott, spinster."

"A woman need not be hampered because she is married."

"She needn't be always, but she generally is, anyhow. Oh, Archie, what is the use of keeping up the argument? This is not a case at law. Go to, good barrister, tell me your plans. This has been a great week for decisions. We each seem to have come to some Rubicon."

"I am going back to Virginia," said Archie, slowly.

"Oh, are you? I felt sure you would stay here."

"Why?"

"I don't know. A big city seems to offer more opportunities. Mr. Smith is so fond of you, and would, no doubt, be able to send you many a client."

"No doubt."

"How laconic you are. And then, oh, I don't know, but I should think you would like it here. You will find it stupid to go back to a little place after being here, I'm afraid."

Archie did not reply.

"Don't you think you will find it stupid?" asked Nannie, finding her remarks met no response.

"I don't know whether I shall or not."

"What is the matter, Archie?" inquired Nannie, looking at him curiously. "You don't seem like yourself."

"Oh, nothing," and Archie roused himself. "I was just lost in thought. To tell you the truth, Nannie, I was meditating most seriously upon your remarks. Yes, I shall be stupid. I am stupid. I was stupid."

"Goose! I didn't say you were stupid. I said you would find a small place stupid after New York. You were not listening at all."

"Yes, I was; but nevertheless I am. I was stupid. I reckon I'd best go back and stay with auntie and Theo. I'd spend too much money here, and I'd be on my uppers before long."

"Oh, nonsense!"

"It's a fact. I seem to be given over to wastefulness."

"I thought you were improving. Theo said you were. That's all talk, Archie. You have more strength of mind than to be utterly spendthrifty."

"No, I haven't. You don't know me. Why, I can't pass a shop-window without being seized with an inordinate desire to go in and buy everything displayed. The other day I was on the point of purchasing eight different kinds of pie, they presented such a tempting array in quarter-sections all along in a row in a window. But, fortunately, as I was trying to decide which I would eat first, I realized that I could not possibly consume them all, and the fact confronted me that some would have to be left, and that alone saved me from buying the whole lot. No, I shall go back to Roseville, where they do not exhibit pie in the windows, and then I shall be able to save up all my pennies, hiding them away in a stocking, between rafters or mattresses or some such place. So when your Salon picture is offered for sale, I shall be able to buy it."

Archie had recovered himself, and was running on in his usual style.

"How nice!" declared Nannie. "It will be such an incentive to me. I suppose you will not mind what subject I choose?"

"No; as long as it isn't the heathen mothers throwing their infants to the crocodiles, or the car of Juggernaut, or any of those unpleasant things."

Nannie laughed. "I can safely promise it will be none of those. I don't see why you chose law as a profession, if you are so tender-hearted. I suppose you'll always let the villains go scot free."

"Not a bit of it. In my judicial capacity, I am inflexible; it is only gory subjects in pictures to which I object."

"Seriously, though," continued Nannie, "shall you really go back to Virginia?"

"Seriously—very seriously."

"Oh, you know what I mean, silly."

"I know what you mean; yes."

"Well, then, talk about it like a rational being. Speaking of your being admitted to the bar, how do you do?"

"I am quite well, I thank you. How are you?"

Nannie laughed. "Archie, you are the most utterly incorrigible person I ever saw. Now, I forget what I was going to ask you. Oh, yes; now do be sensible and tell me. After you have been admitted somewhere, you can practise anywhere, can't you?"

"Is that a riddle? It sounds like it. After I have—no—after you have been admitted anywhere, you can practise somewhere. Was that it? Ask it over again, Nannie?"

"Archie Nelson, you can be the most absurd person I ever saw. I shall not ask you anything."

"All right," said Archie, briskly. "I didn't know the answer to that, anyhow."

Then, as Nannie kept silence, he went on, "I'll be good, Nan. Yes, I have decided to go back to Virginia. I think my chances there are as good as anywhere. An old friend of my father's, Squire Meredith, made me an offer before I came here, and the offer still holds good."

"That is Jessie Meredith's father?"

"Yes; the Squire has no sons, and will, in time, give up his practice to me. I shall go in with him, win my laurels, take my native State by storm, conduct some famous suit, be called Squire, run for Judge, be elected, grow wise and old on the bench, and die full of years and honors. There you have it. You could not ask a fuller account."

"I am so glad to know," laughed Nannie. "What a comfort it must be to have one's future so positively arranged."

"It is," acquiesced Archie. "You see if it doesn't turn out just as I say."

"And you'll buy my first Salon picture?"

"Provisionally."

"That is, if the subject is not gory?"

"Exactly."

"Very well; I depend upon you."

And then, an interruption came in their talk,—Val and Theo entered excitedly.

"Where have you two been?" asked Nannie. "Archie has been here ever so long waiting for you."

"I wasn't waiting, especially," remarked he.

"Well, you've been here a long time; ever since Miss Nelson and I came in from dinner. Where were you, girls?"

"Why, we went to dinner with the Colonel," explained Theo, "and Val has actually persuaded him to go to Europe with her and Mrs. Westerly."

"Really?"

"Yes; so that is one thing settled."

"From what Archie says, there is another thing settled; he says he has decided to return to his native heath," Nan informed them.

"Oh, Archie!" from both the girls.

Archie nodded, confirming Nannie's statement.

"Have you really made up your mind?" said Theo, going over and sitting down by him, resting a hand on his shoulder.

Archie turned, and gave her a little faint, reassuring smile. "That is about it," he answered.

Theo made no comment, but slipped her hand in his arm, giving it a little squeeze.

"I thought you would be delighted, and you look half disappointed," averred Nannie.

Theo looked at her steadily, but there was not a shadow of consciousness in the honest eyes which met hers. "I am very, very glad Archie is not going to desert us," replied Theo, "if it is best for him."

"It is best for me," said Archie, quietly.

"And auntie will be overjoyed," declared Val. "I can imagine just how delighted she will be. I think it has given her a great pang every time she considered the possibility of losing you, Archie. Have you told her?"

"Not yet. I will go now and tell her."

Later Archie took his leave, but it was not to go directly to his rooms.

Long past midnight he was walking the streets, but whatever conflict went on, he never told of it, and was as sweet and sunny as ever the next time the girls saw him; so that even Theo did not suspect what hope her brother had buried that spring midnight.