the conflict-第60章
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She was beginning to resent Charlton's manner bluff； unceremonious； candid； at times rude。 He treated women exactly as he treated men； and he treated all men as intimates； free and easy fellow travelers afoot upon a dusty； vulgar highway。 She had found charm in that manner； so natural to the man of no pretense； of splendid physical proportions； of the health of a fine tree。 She was beginning to get into the state of mind at which practically all very rich people in a civilized society sooner or later arrivea state of mind that makes it impossible for any to live with or near them except hirelings and dependents。 The habit of power of any kind breeds intolerance of equality of level intercourse。 This is held in check； often held entirely in check； where the power is based upon mental superiority； for the very superiority of the mind keeps alive the sense of humor and the sense of proportion。 Not so the habit of money power。 For money power is brutal； mindless。 And as it is the only real power in any and all aristocracies； aristocracies are inevitably brutal and brutalizing。
If Jane had been poor； or had remained a few years longeruntil her character was better setunder the restraining influence of her unfrilled and unfrillable father； her passion for power； for superiority would probably have impelled her to develop her mind into a source of power and position。 Fate abruptly gave her the speediest and easiest means to power known in our plutocratic civilization。 She would have had to be superhuman in beauty of character or a genius in mind to have rejected the short and easy way to her goal and struggled on in the long and hardand doubtfulway。
She did not herself appreciate the change within herself。 She fancied she was still what she had been two weeks before。 For as yet nothing had occurred to enable her to realize her changed direction； her changed view of life。 Thus； she was still thinking of Victor Dorn as she had thought of him； and she was impatient to see him。 She was now free FREE！ She could； without consulting anybody； have what she wanted。 And she wanted Victor Dorn。
She had dropped from her horse and with her arm through the bridle was strolling along one of the quieter roads which Victor often took in his rambles。 It was a tonic October day； with floods of sunshine upon the gorgeous autumnal foliage； never more gorgeous than in that fall of the happiest alternations of frost and warmth。 She heard the pleasant rustle of quick steps in the fallen leaves that carpeted the byroad。 She knew it was he before she glanced； and his first view of her face was of its beauty enhanced by a color as delicate and charming as that in the leaves about them。
She looked at his hands in which he was holding something half concealed。 ‘‘What is it？'' she said； to cover her agitation。
He opened his hands a little wider。 ‘‘A bird；'' said he。 ‘‘Some hunter has broken its wing。 I'm taking it to Charlton for repairs and a fair start for its winter down South。''
His eyes noted for an instant significantly her sombre riding costume； then sought her eyes with an expression of simple and friendly sympathy。 The tears came to her eyes； and she turned her face away。 She for the first time had a sense of loss； a moving memory of her father's goodness to her； of an element of tenderness that had passed out of her life forever。 And she felt abjectly ashamedashamed of her relief at the lifting of the burden of his long struggle against death； ashamed of her miserable wranglings with Martha and Billy's wife； ashamed of her forgetfulness of her father in the exultation over her wealth； ashamed of the elaborately fashionable mourning she was wearingand of the black horse she had bought to match。 She hoped he would not observe these last flauntings of the purely formal character of a grief that was being utilized to make a display of fashionableness。
‘‘You always bring out the best there is in me；'' said she。
He stood silently before hernot in embarrassment； for he was rarely self…conscious enough to be embarrassed； but refraining from speech simply because there was nothing to say。
‘‘I haven't heard any of the details of the election；'' she went on。 ‘‘Did you come out as well as you hoped？''
‘‘Better；'' said he。 ‘‘As a result of the election the membership of the League has already a little more than doubled。 We could have quadrupled it； but we are somewhat strict in our requirements。 We want only those who will stay members as long as they stay citizens of Remsen City。 But I must go on to Charlton or he'll be out on his rounds。''
She caught his glance； which was inclined to avoid hers。 She gave him a pleading look。 ‘‘I'll walk with you part of the way；'' she said。
He seemed to be searching for an excuse to get away。 Whether because he failed to find it or because he changed his mind； he said： ‘‘You'll not mind going at a good gait？''
‘‘I'll ride；'' said she。 ‘‘It's not comfortable； walking fast in these boots。''
He stood by to help her； but let her get into the saddle alone。 She smiled down at him with a little coquetry。 ‘‘Are you afraid to touch meto…day？'' she asked。
He laughed： ‘‘The bird IS merely an excuse；'' he admitted。 ‘‘I've got back my self…control； and I purpose to keep it。''
She flushed angrily。 His frankness now seemed to her to be flavored with impertinent assurance。 ‘‘That's amusing；'' said she； with an unpleasant smile。 ‘‘You have an extraordinary opinion of yourself； haven't you？''
He shrugged his shoulders as if the subject did not interest him and set off at a gait that compelled her horse to a rapid walk。 She said presently：
‘‘I'm going to live at the old place alone for the present。 You'll come to see me？''
He looked at her。 ‘‘No；'' he said。 ‘‘As I told you a moment ago； that's over。 You'll have to find some one else to amuse youfor； I understand perfectly； Jane； that you were only doing what's called flirting。 That sort of thing is a waste of timefor me。 I'm not competent to judge whether it's a waste for you。''
She looked coldly down at him。 ‘‘You have changed since I last saw you；'' she said。 ‘‘I don't mean the change in your manner toward me。 I mean something deeper。 I've often heard that politics makes a man deteriorate。 You must be careful； Victor。''
‘‘I must think about that；'' said he。 ‘‘Thank you for warning me。''
His prompt acceptance of her insincere criticism made her straightway repentant。 ‘‘No； it's I that have changed；'' she said。 ‘‘Oh； I'm horrid！simply horrid。 I'm in despair about myself。''
‘‘Any one who thinks about himself is bound to be；'' said he philosophically。 ‘‘That's why one has to keep busy in order to keep contented。'' He halted。 ‘‘I can save a mile and half an hour by crossing these fields。'' He held the wounded bird in one hand very carefully while he lifted his hat。
She colored deeply。 ‘‘Victor；'' she said； ‘‘isn't there any way that you and I can be friends？''
‘‘Yes；'' replied he。 ‘‘As I told you before； by becoming one of us。 Those are impossible terms； of course。 But that's the only way by which we could be of use to each other。 Jane； if I； professing what I do profess； offered to be friends with you on any other terms； you'd be very foolish not to reject my offer。 For； it would mean that I was a fraud。 Don't you see that？''
‘‘Yes；'' she admitted。 ‘‘But when I am with you I see everything exactly as you represent it。''
‘‘It's fortunate for you that I'm not disposed to take advantage of thatisn't it？'' said he； with good…humored irony。
‘‘You don't believe me！''
‘‘Not altogether；'' he confessed。 ‘‘To be quite candid； I think that for some reason or other I rouse in you an irresistible desire to pose。 I doubt if you realize it wholly。 But you'd be hard pressed just where to draw the line between the sincere and the insincere； wouldn't youhonestly？''
She sat moodily combing at her horse's mane。
‘‘I know it's cruel；'' he went on lightly； ‘‘to deny anything； however small； to a young lady who has always had her own way。 But in self…defense I must do it。''
‘‘Why DO I take these things from you？'' she cried； in sudden exasperation。 And touching
