He was not happy himself for many reasons,and two of them were Elinor and Vic,who separately,and differently,seemed to wear out his energy.
Dennie Saxon never wore on anybody's nerves.
"Yes,I do,often,"Dennie answered.
"Why do you do this?"he queried.
"To get my college education."Dennie smiled,hopefully.
"I like the nice things and nice ways of life.
So I'm working for them."
"Elinor has all these without working for them,"Vincent thought.
Then for no reason at all his mind leaped to Dennie's father and his own vow on the stormy night in October.
"What would you do if your father were taken from you,Miss Dennie?"he asked.
"I've always had to depend on myself somewhat.I would keep on,I suppose."Dennie looked up bravely.Her father was her joy and her shame.
Well,what had Burgess expected?That she would depend on him?
He was in love with Elinor Wream.Why should he feel disappointed?
And why should his eye follow the soft little ripples of her sunny hair,giving a pretty outline to her face and neck.
"Could you really take care of yourself?He was talking at random.
"I might do like that woman out at Pigeon Place."Burgess did n't catch the pathos in Dennie's tone.He was only a man.
"How's that?"he asked.
"Oh,live alone and keep a big dog,and sell chickens.
That's what Mrs.Marian does.By the way,she looks just a little bit like you.""Thank you!"
"She was at the game on Thanksgiving Day,strange to say,for she seldom leaves home.Did you see a pretty white-haired woman,right south of where we were?""Is that how I look?No,I didn't see her.I was n't at the game.""You weren't?Why not?You missed a wonderful thing."And Burgess told her the whole story from his viewpoint,of course.
What he was too proud to mention to Dr.Fenneben or Elinor he spoke of freely to Dennie,and he felt as if the weight of the limestone ledge was lifted from him with the telling.
"Don't you think the young ruffian was pretty hard on me?"he asked.
"No,I don't,"Dennie said,frankly."I think you were pretty hard on him."A sudden resolve seized Burgess.He came around to Dennie's side of the table.
"Miss Dennie,I want to tell you something,unimportant in itself,but better shared than kept.On the night of our picnic in October your father,who was not quite himself--""Yes,I understand,"Dennie said,with downcast eyes.
"Pardon me,Dennie,I would not hurt your feelings."His voice was very gentle,and Dennie looked up gratefully.
"On that night your father made me promise--made me hold up my hand and swear--I'm easily forced,you will think--to look after you if he were taken away.I did it to pacify him,not to ever embarrass you.He also told me enough about young Burleigh to make me wish,in the office of protector,to warn you.""Was my father quite himself then?"Dennie asked.
"Not quite,"Burgess replied.
"Listen to him some day when he is.He is another man then.But,"she added,"I know you mean well."In spite of her courage her eyes were full of tears,and for the first time in his sheltered pleasant life the real spirit of sympathy woke in the soul of Vincent Burgess.
"You are a brave,good girl,Dennie.If I can ever serve you in any way,it will be a privilege to me to do it."Ten minutes after they had left the library Trench,who had been stationary in the north alcove,slowly came to life.
He had been posing as a statue,Winged Victory with a head on,he declared afterward to Vic Burleigh,to whom he told the whole story.
"Let me sing my swan song,"he declared."Then me for Lagonda's whirlpool.
I'm not fit to live in a decent community,a blithering idiot and rascally villain,who lies in wait to hear and see like a fool.
I thought Dennie knew I was there and would be in to dust me out in a minute.
And when it was too late I turned to a pillar of salt and waited.
But I believe I'll change my mind,after all.I'll live;and if Professor Burgess,A.B.of Cambridge-by-the-bean-patch,dares to make love to Dennie Saxon--on the side--he'll go head foremost into the whirlpool to feed Lagonda's rapacious spirit.
I've said it."