On the day following the engagement to Peter, Marcia had written Lucy Cunningham the news. She had not written hastily nor carelessly. She had torn up half a dozen letters before she managed one to her satisfaction. She knew Lucy so well! And after she had mailed the letter, she had waited anxiously for an answer. But as the days sped by and the date she and Peter had chosen for their wedding came closer and closer, she began to fear that she had not been as clever as she had thought.
It was a morning just four days before the wedding date when Lucy’s answer came.
Marcia:
Have you lost your mind? Are you mad? You must be even to think of such a thing as to marry a blind man. What if he is comfortably off and can help you with your music? You must know that I simply will not stand for it! I have great plans for you and your voice. You must have known that when I sent you off down there to that dreadful place to rest! And I certainly don’t propose to have you throw everything away.
You are to return to New York immediately — do you understand? I have arranged a fund at the bank, sufficient to pay for your training. You can pay it back later if you like, or you can use it to help someone else. Anyway, I simply won’t have you spoiling your life with another foolish marriage!
I have taken a house in Taxco, for the winter. You and I will go there — Mexico is enchanting! In the spring we will return to New York, and you can go on with your studies. Wire me when you will arrive, so I can have someone meet you. I was in Maine when your letter came, and that is the reason I have not written earlier. Hurry back, darling! I’ve missed you. You are the only amusing person I know, and we will have fun in Taxco — or if we get bored, Mexico City is quite gay.
Fondly,
Lucy
P.S. — Don’t try to tell me any nonsense about being in love with this blind man. I know it isn’t true! You couldn’t possibly be!
Marcia dropped the letter in her lap and sat very still for a while, trying to control the shaking of her hands. Lucy had come through handsomely! Marcia knew that if she had gone to Lucy frankly and asked for a loan large enough to take care of her training, she would have refused it. Lucy liked the feeling of being very generous — and she could be at times. But it had to be at her own impulse. She could never be coerced, or even cajoled. She alternated fits of generosity with fits of extreme parsimony. There were times when she was fond of the world, and generous to a degree, but there were other times when she announced bitterly that she hadn’t a real friend, and that people hung about her only because they had designs on her money. And at such times, her big luxurious apartment, or any one of the many country places she maintained, was not a pleasant place.
Marcia looked down at the letter and drew in a deep breath. Lucy had at last done the thing she had hoped for, and had not dared ask. Lucy had established a fund for her musical training! And now she, Marcia, was free.
She would have to tell Peter the truth, of course, and that wasn’t going to be easy. But there was a hard little core of honesty in her, surprising, perhaps, to those who knew her best She would not He to Peter nor pretend. She had a liking for neat finishes; there must be no loose ends dangling. Peter loved her — she was honestly sorry that she must hurt him. But the kindest thing, in the long run, would be the brutal thing now. She would tell him straight out, frankly and flatly, that she no longer needed him and that she would not even consider marrying him.
Marcia was in her room, packing, when she heard the tap of Peter’s cane on the veranda. She went down the stairs as he stepped into the hall, and he turned swiftly toward her. She saw his face light up with a smile, as he released Gus and let him go outdoors.
“Hello, darling!” he said, moving to take her into his arms.
Marcia evaded him easily. “Let’s go into the living room, Peter,” she suggested.
“Fine with me,” Peter spoke lightly, but there was a hint of anxiety in his face, because her tones had been slightly strained.
“What I have to say is not going to be pleasant, but I hope you won’t mind too much,” said Marcia. Before he could answer, she added, “I’ve changed my mind, Peter. I can’t marry you.”
He stood very still, a foot or two away from her, and she saw his face grow taut.
“Of course not, Marcia,” he said presently. “I think I knew that from the first. But I was fool enough to let myself hope. It’s because I’m blind, of course.”
“No, Peter, it’s not that.” Marcia tried to sound convincing. “It’s that — well, I had a letter from Lucy Cunningham this morning. She wants me to spend the winter with her in Mexico. She has established a fund that will guarantee my musical training — ”
“And you don’t need me any more,” Peter finished.
“If that’s the way you want to put it.”
“There’s no other way to put it.”
“I’m sorry, of course,” she said stiffly.
“You needn’t be. It’s only what I should have expected.”
“Well, after all, you said yourself, when you asked me to marry you, that you didn’t expect me to be in love with you,” she reminded him.
“But you insisted you were.”
“I tried.”
“Thanks. I don’t appreciate that very much, somehow,” he cut in. “I’m delighted to know that you are going to be taken care of, and I’m sure you’ll be very happy.”
He turned, and felt with the tip of his cane for the way to the door. Outside, in the hot morning sunlight, he whistled for Gus, who came leaping to his side. Peter snapped the wooden harness into place and he and Gus set out.
• • •
Professor Hartley turned his head, listening intently, as he caught the sound of an approaching footstep. A moment later, he said eagerly:
“Peter — good morning! This is a pleasant surprise!”
“Thanks, sir.”
Peter dropped into a chair, released Gus, and lit a cigarette.
“Something’s wrong, Peter,” said Professor Hartley.
Peter’s mouth tightened a little and he hesitated. Then:
“I’m not sure about it, Professor. Maybe something’s been wrong, but now it’s right. I’ve been walking and doing a lot of thinking. I seem to be able to think straight this morning for the first time in a long time. Marcia,” he added, “has broken our engagement.”
“I — I scarcely know what to say, Peter.”
“Why not say what everybody else in town will be saying — that it’s no more than should have been expected; that I was a fool to think a girl like Marcia Eldon would tie herself down to a blind man.”
“You know that’s not what people will say. It’s a bitter blow to you, and I’m terribly sorry, but you can face up to it, Peter. It’s another challenge.”
“Sure, I know,” said Peter. “It’s funny, but somehow it’s not as devastating as I’d thought it would be. It’s a blow, of course, but I think I must have been expecting it. I don’t think I ever really believed she’d go through with it. It seemed too much luck for a man in my position.”
The professor was silent, realizing that it was a relief to Peter to talk; to empty from his mind all the thoughts that had gathered there during the last few weeks, sure that Professor Hartley, sharing with him the blight of blindness, would understand.
“I think, too, I dreaded the thought of leaving Centerville, and living in a New York apartment,” Peter went on. “Even if you can’t see, there are many compensations for a blind man in a little town like Centerville that would be missing in New York. And I knew Marcia wouldn’t have much time for me there, because she would be busy with her studies. Somehow, I’m a little annoyed at myself to find that I don’t feel as badly as I might have.”
“I’m sincerely glad for that, Peter.”
“Thanks, sir. I was sure you’d understand,” said Peter, and they sat for a long time in a companionable silence… .
In the Drummond living room, Edith was saying to Betsy, “I hear Marcia’s leaving town — alone.”
“Who said she was leaving?” Betsy asked.
“She told me. She came to say goodbye,” Edith said.
Edith felt her mistake even as she spoke.