Barr Robert
Lord Stranleigh Abroad

IV. – THE MAD MISS MATURIN

“Would you like to meet the most beautiful woman in America?” asked Edward Trenton of his guest.

Lord Stranleigh drew a whiff or two from the favourite pipe he was smoking, and the faint suggestion of a smile played about his lips.

“The question seems to hint that I have not already met her,” he said at last.

“Have you?”

“Of course.”

“Where?”

“In every town of any size I ever visited.”

“Oh, I daresay you have met many pretty girls, but only one of them is the most beautiful in America.”

Again Stranleigh smiled, but this time removed his pipe, which had gone out, and gently tapped it on the ash tray.

“My dear Ned,” he said at last, “on almost any other subject I should hesitate to venture an opinion that ran counter to your own experience, yet in this instance I think you wrong the great Republic. I am not very good at statistics, but if you will tell me how many of your fellow-countrymen are this moment in love, I’ll make a very accurate estimate regarding the number of most beautiful women there are in the United States.”

“Like yourself, Stranleigh, I always defer to the man of experience, and am glad to have hit on one subject in which you are qualified to be my teacher.”

“I like that! Ned Trenton depreciating his own conquests is a popular actor in a new rôle. But you are evading the point. I was merely trying in my awkward way to show that every woman is the most beautiful in the world to the man in love with her.”

“Very well; I’ll frame my question differently. Would you like to meet one of the most cultured of her sex?”

“Bless you, my boy, of course not! Why, I’m afraid of her already. It is embarrassing enough to meet a bright, alert man, but in the presence of a clever woman, I become so painfully stupid that she thinks I’m putting it on.”

“Then let me place the case before you in still another form. Would your highness like to meet the richest woman in Pennsylvania?”

“Certainly I should,” cried Stranleigh, eagerly.

Trenton looked at him with a shade of disapproval on his brow.

“I thought wealth was the very last qualification a man in your position would care for in a woman, yet hardly have I finished the sentence, than you jump at the chance I offer.”

“And why not? A lady beautiful and talented would likely strike me dumb, but if she is hideously rich, I may be certain of one thing, that I shall not be asked to invest money in some hare-brained scheme or other.”

“You are quite safe from that danger, or indeed from any other danger, so far as Miss Maturin is concerned. Nevertheless, it is but just that you should understand the situation, so that if you scent danger of any kind, you may escape while there is yet time.”

“Unobservant though I am,” remarked Stranleigh, “certain signs have not escaped my notice. This commodious and delightful mansion is being prepared for a house-party. I know the symptoms, for I have several country places of my own. If, as I begin to suspect, I am in the way here, just whisper the word and I’ll take myself off in all good humour, hoping to receive an invitation for some future time.”

“If that’s your notion of American hospitality, Stranleigh, you’ve got another guess coming. You’re a very patient man; will you listen to a little family history? Taking your consent for granted, I plunge. My father possessed a good deal of landed property in Pennsylvania. This house is the old homestead, as they would call it in a heart-throb drama. My father died a very wealthy man, and left his property conjointly to my sister and myself. He knew we wouldn’t quarrel over the division, and we haven’t. My activity has been mainly concentrated in coal mines and in the railways which they feed, and financially I have been very fortunate. I had intended to devote a good deal of attention to this estate along certain lines which my father had suggested, but I have never been able to do so, living, as I did, mostly in Philadelphia, absorbed in my own business. My sister, however, has in a measure carried out my father’s plans, aided and abetted by her friend, Miss Constance Maturin. My sister married a man quite as wealthy as herself, a dreamy, impractical, scholarly person who once represented his country as Minister to Italy, in Rome. She enjoyed her Italian life very much, and studied with great interest the progress North Italy was making in utilising the water-power coming from the Alps. In this she was ably seconded by Miss Maturin, who is owner of forests and farms and factories further down the river which flows past our house. Her property, indeed, adjoins our own, but she does not possess that unlimited power over it which Sis and I have over this estate, for her father, having no faith in the business capacity of woman, formed his undertakings into a limited liability company where, although he owned the majority of stock during his life, he did not leave his daughter with untrammelled control. Had the old man known what trouble he was bequeathing to his sole heir, I imagine he would have arranged things a little differently. Miss Maturin has had to endure several expensive law-suits, which still further restricted her power and lessened her income. So she has ceased to take much interest in her own belongings, and has constituted herself adviser-in-chief to my dear sister, who has blown in a good deal of money on this estate in undertakings that, however profitable they may be in the future, are unproductive up to date. I am not criticising Sis at all, and have never objected to what she has done, although I found myself involved in a very serious action for damages, which I had the chagrin of losing, and which ran me into a lot of expense, covering me with injunctions and things of that sort. No rogue e’er felt the halter draw, with a good opinion of the law, and perhaps my own detestation of the law arises from my having frequently broken it. If this long diatribe bores you, just say so, and I’ll cut it short.”

“On the contrary,” said Stranleigh, with evident honesty, “I’m very much interested. These two ladies, as I understand the case, have been unsuccessful in law – ”

“Completely so.”

“And unsuccessful in the projects they have undertaken?”

“From my point of view, yes. That is to say, they are sinking pots of money, and I don’t see where any of it is coming back.”

“Of what do these enterprises consist?”

“Do you know anything about the conservation controversy now going on in this country?”

“I fear I do not. I am a woefully ignorant person.”

“My father had ideas about conservation long before the United States took it up. It is on these ideas that Sis has been working. You preserve water in times of flood and freshet to be used for power or for irrigation throughout the year. Her first idea was to make a huge lake, extending several miles up the valley of this river. That’s where I got into my law-suit. The commercial interests down below held that we had no right to put a huge concrete dam across this river.”

“Couldn’t you put a dam on your own property?”

“It seems not. If the river ran entirely through my own property, I could. Had I paid more attention to what was being done, I might perhaps have succeeded, by getting a bill through the Legislature. When I tried that, I was too late. The interests below had already applied to the courts for an injunction, which, quite rightly, they received. Attempting to legalise the action, not only did I find the Legislature hostile, but my clever opponents got up a muck-raking crusade against me, and I was held up by the Press of this State as a soulless monopolist, anxious to increase my already great wealth by grabbing what should belong to the whole people. The campaign of personal calumny was splendidly engineered, and, by Jupiter! they convinced me that I was unfit for human intercourse. Tables of statistics were published to prove how through railway and coal-mine manipulation I had robbed everybody, and they made me out about a hundred times richer than I am, although I have never been able to get any of the excess cash. Sermons were preached against me, the Pulpit joining the Press in denunciation. I had no friends, and not being handy with my pen, I made no attempt at defence. I got together a lot of dynamite, blew up the partially-constructed dam, and the river still flows serenely on.”

“But surely,” said Stranleigh, “I saw an immense dam on this very river, when you met me at Powerville railway station the other day?”

Trenton laughed.

“Yes; that was Miss Maturin’s dam.”

“Miss Maturin’s!” cried Stranleigh in astonishment.

“It was built years ago by her father, who went the right way about it, having obtained in a quiet, effective way, the sanction of legislature. Of course, when I say it belongs to Miss Maturin, I mean that it is part of the estate left by her father, and the odd combination of circumstances brought it about that she was one of my opponents in the action-at-law, whereas in strict justice, she should have been a defendant instead of a plaintiff. The poor girl was horrified to learn her position in the matter, and my sister was dumbfounded to find in what a dilemma she had placed me. Of course, the two girls should have secured the advice of some capable, practical lawyer in the first place, but they were very self-confident in those days, and Sis knew it was no use consulting her husband, while her brother was too deeply immersed in his own affairs to be much aid as a counsellor.

“Well, they kept on with their conservation scheme after a time, and both on this property and on Miss Maturin’s, dams have been erected on all the streams that empty into the river; streams on either side that take their rise from outlying parts of the estate. They have built roads through the forest, and have caused to be formed innumerable lakes, all connected by a serviceable highway that constitutes one of the most interesting automobile drives there is in all the United States; a drive smooth as a floor, running for miles through private property, and therefore overshadowed by no speed limit.”

“By Jove, Ned,” exclaimed Stranleigh, “you must take me over that course.”

“I’ll do better than that, my boy. Constance Maturin is one of the best automobilists I know, and she will be your guide, for these dams are of the most modern construction, each with some little kink of its own that no one understands better than she does. There is a caretaker living in a picturesque little cottage at the outlet of every lake, and in each cottage hangs a telephone, so that no matter how far you penetrate into the wilderness, you are in touch with civilisation. From this house I could call up any one of these water-wardens, or send out a general alarm, bringing every man of the corps to the ’phone, and the instructions given from here would be heard simultaneously by the whole force. I think the organisation is admirable, but it runs into a lot of money.”

“‘But what good came of it at last, Quoth little Peterkin,’”

asked Stranleigh. “Do these artificial lakes run any dynamos, or turn any spindles? Now tell me all about the war, and what they dammed each streamlet for.”

“Ah, you have me there! The ladies have not taken me into their counsel: I’ve got troubles enough of my own. One phase of the subject especially gratifies me: their activities have in no instance despoiled the landscape; rather the contrary. These lakes, wooded to their brims, are altogether delightful, and well stocked with fish. A great many of them overflow, causing admirable little cascades, which, although not quite so impressive as Niagara, are most refreshing on a hot day, while the cadence of falling waters serves as an acoustic background to the songs of the birds; a musical accompaniment, as one might call it.”

“Bravo, Ned; I call that quite poetical, coming as it does from a successful man of business. I find myself eager for that automobile ride through this forest lakeland. When do you say Miss Maturin will arrive?”

“I don’t know. I expect my sister will call me up by telephone. Sis regards this house as her own. She is fond of leaving the giddy whirl of society, and settling down here in the solitude of the woods. I clear out or I stay in obedience to her commands. You spoke of a house-party a while ago. There is to be no house-party, but merely my sister and her husband, with Miss Maturin as their guest. If you would rather not meet any strangers, I suggest that we plunge further into the wilderness. At the most remote lake on this property, about seven miles away, quite a commodious keeper’s lodge has been built, with room for, say, half a dozen men who are not too slavishly addicted to the resources of civilisation. Yet life there is not altogether pioneering. We could take an automobile with us, and the telephone would keep us in touch with the outside world. Fond of fishing?”

“Very.”

“Then that’s all right. I can offer you plenty of trout, either in pond or stream, while in a large natural lake, only a short distance away, is excellent black bass. I think you’ll enjoy yourself up there.”

Stranleigh laughed.

“You quite overlook the fact that I am not going. Unless ejected by force, I stay here to meet your sister and Miss Maturin.”

For a moment Trenton seemed taken aback. He had lost the drift of things in his enthusiasm over the lakes.

“Oh, yes; I remember,” he said at last. “You objected to meet anyone who might wish you to invest good money in wild-cat schemes. Well, you’re quite safe as far as those two ladies are concerned, as I think I assured you.”

Ned was interrupted, and seemed somewhat startled by a sound of murmured conversation ending in a subdued peal of musical laughter.

“Why, there’s Sis now,” he said, “I can tell her laugh anywhere.”

As he rose from his chair, the door opened, and there entered a most comely young woman in automobile garb, noticeably younger than Trenton, but bearing an unmistakable likeness to him.

“Hello, Ned!” she cried. “I thought I’d find you here,” then seeing his visitor, who had risen, she paused.

“Lord Stranleigh,” said Trenton. “My sister, Mrs. Vanderveldt.”

“I am very glad to meet you, Lord Stranleigh,” she said, advancing from the door and shaking hands with him.

“Why didn’t you telephone?” asked her brother.

His sister laughed merrily.

“I came down like a wolf on the fold, didn’t I? Why didn’t I telephone? Strategy, my dear boy, strategy. This is a surprise attack, and I’d no wish that the garrison, forewarned, should escape. I am sure, Lord Stranleigh, that he has been descanting on the distraction of the woods and the camp, or perhaps the metropolitan dissipation of Philadelphia, depending on whether the yearning for sport, or his business in town was uppermost in his mind.”

“My dear Sis,” cried Ned with indignation, “that is a libellous statement. I never so much as mentioned Philadelphia, did I, Stranleigh? You can corroborate what I say.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” said Stranleigh, lightly. “Your attempt to drag me into your family differences at this point of the game is futile. I’m going to lie low, and say nothing, as Brer Rabbit did, until I learn which of you two is the real ruler of this house. I shall then boldly announce myself on the side of the leader. My position here is much too comfortable to be jeopardised by an injudicious partisanship.”

“As for who’s boss,” growled Ned, “I cravenly admit at once that Sis here is monarch of all she surveys.”

“In that case,” rejoined Stranleigh, heaving a deep sigh of apparent relief, “I’m on the side of the angels. Mrs. Vanderveldt, he did mention Philadelphia and his office there, speaking much about business interests, coal-mines, and what not, during which recital I nearly went to sleep, for I’m no business man. He also descanted on the lakes and the waterfalls and the fishing, and on trout and black bass, and would doubtless have gone on to whales and sea-serpents had you not come in at the opportune moment. Please accept me as your devoted champion, Mrs. Vanderveldt.”

“I do, I do, with appreciation and gratitude,” cried the lady merrily. “I’ve long wished to meet you, Lord Stranleigh, for I heard such glowing accounts of you from my brother here, with most fascinating descriptions of your estates in England, and the happy hours he spent upon them while he was your guest in the old country. I hope we may be able to make some slight return for your kindness to this frowning man. He is always on nettles when I am talking; so different from my husband in that respect.”

“Poor man, he never has a chance to get a word in edgewise,” growled Ned. “My soul is my own, I’m happy to say.”

“Ah, yes,” laughed the lady, “pro tem. But although I am saying so much for myself, I speak with equal authority for my friend Constance Maturin.”

“Did you bring her with you, or is she coming later?” asked Trenton with some anxiety.

“She is here, dear brother, but I could not induce her to enter this room with me. Doubtless she wishes to meet you alone. She is a dear girl, Lord Stranleigh, and it will be my greatest joy to welcome her as a sister-in-law.”

A warm flush was added to the frown on her brother’s brow, but he made no remark.

“Gracious me!” cried the lady, laughing again “have I once more put my foot in it? Why Ned, what a fine confidential friend you are. If I were a young man, and so sweet a girl had promised to marry me, I should proclaim the fact from the house-tops.”

“You wouldn’t need to,” groaned Ned, “if you had a sister.”

“Never mind him,” said Stranleigh, “you have betrayed no secret, Mrs. Vanderveldt. His own confused utterances when referring to the young lady, rendered any verbal confession unnecessary. I suspected how the land lay at a very early stage of our conversation.”

“Well, I think he may congratulate himself that you do not enter the lists against him. You possess some tact, which poor Ned has never acquired, and now I’ll make him sit up by informing him that Connie Maturin took a special trip over to England recently, in order to meet you.”

“To meet me?” cried Stranleigh in astonishment.

“Yes, indeed, and an amazed girl she was to learn that you had sailed for America. She came right back by the next boat. She has a great plan in her mind which requires heavy financing. My brother here isn’t rich enough, and I, of course, am much poorer than he is, so she thought if she could interest you, as the leading capitalist of England – ”

“Good heavens, girl,” interrupted Ned, the perspiration standing out on his brow, “do show some consideration for what you are saying! Why, you rattle on without a thought to your words. Lord Stranleigh just made it a proviso that – . Oh, hang it all, Sis; you’ve put your foot in it this time, sure enough.”

The lady turned on him now with no laughter on her lips, or merriment in her tone.

“Why, Ned, you’re actually scolding me. I promised Connie Maturin to help her, and my way of accomplishing anything is to go directly for it.”

“Oh, heaven help me,” murmured Ned, “the law courts have already taught me that.”

“Mrs. Vanderveldt,” said the Earl of Stranleigh, very quietly, “please turn to your champion, and ignore this wretched man, whose unnecessary reticence is finding him out.”

The only person to be embarrassed by this tangle of concealments and revelations was Constance Maturin, who had indulged in neither the one nor the other. The Earl of Stranleigh found it difficult to become acquainted with her. She seemed always on her guard, and never even approached the subject which he had been given to understand chiefly occupied her thoughts.

On the day set for their automobile ride, Miss Maturin appeared at the wheel of the very latest thing in runabouts; a six-cylindered machine of extraordinary power, that ran as silently and smoothly as an American watch, and all merely for the purpose of carrying two persons. Stranleigh ran his eye over the graceful proportions of the new car with an expert’s keen appreciation, walking round it slowly and critically, quite forgetting the girl who regarded him with an expression of amusement. Looking up at last, he saw a smile playing about her pretty lips.

“I beg your pardon,” he said.

“I’m not sure that I shall grant it,” she replied, laughing. “To be ignored in this callous fashion for even the latest project of engineering, is not in the least flattering.”

“Not ignored, Miss Maturin,” said Stranleigh, “for I was thinking of you, although I may have appeared absorbed in the machine.”

“Thinking of me!” she cried. “You surely can’t expect me to believe that! The gaze of a man fascinated by a piece of machinery is quite different from that of a man fascinated by a woman. I know, because I have seen both.”

“I am sure you have seen the latter, Miss Maturin. But what I have just been regarding is an omen.”

“Really? How mysterious! I thought you saw only an automobile.”

“No, I was looking through the automobile, and beyond, if I may put it that way. I am quite familiar with the plan of this car, although this is the first specimen that I have examined. The car is yours by purchase, I suppose, but it is mine by manufacture. Your money bought it, but mine made it, in conjunction with the genius of a young engineer in whom I became interested. Perhaps you begin to see the omen. Some time ago I was fortunate enough to be of assistance to a young man, and the result has been an unqualified success. To-day perhaps I may be permitted to aid a young woman with a success that will be equally gratifying.”

Stranleigh gazed steadily into the clear, honest eyes of the girl, who returned his look with a half-amused smile. Now she seemed suddenly covered with confusion, and flushing slightly, turned her attention to the forest that surrounded them. Presently she said —

“Do you men worship only the god of success? You have used the word three or four times.”

“Most men wish to be successful, I suppose, but we all worship a goddess, too.”

“I’m sorry,” said Miss Maturin, “that Mrs. Vanderveldt mentioned my search for a capitalist. I have abandoned the quest. I am now merely your guide to the lakes. Please take a seat in this automobile of yours, Lord Stranleigh, and I will be your conductor.”

The young man stepped in beside her, and a few moments later they were gliding, rather than running over a perfect road, under the trees, in a machine as noiseless as the forest. The Earl of Stranleigh had seen many beautiful regions of this world, but never any landscape just like this. Its artificiality and its lack of artificiality interested him. Nothing could be more businesslike than the construction of the stout dams, and nothing more gently rural than the limpid lakes, with the grand old forest trees marshalled round their margins like a veteran army that had marched down to drink, only to be stricken motionless at the water’s edge.

It seemed that the silence of the motor-car had enchanted into silence its occupants. The girl devoted her whole attention to the machine and its management. Stranleigh sat dumb, and gave himself up to the full enjoyment of the Vallombrosic tour.

For more than half an hour no word had been spoken; finally the competent chauffeur brought the auto to a standstill at a view-point near the head of the valley, which offered a prospect of the brawling main stream.

“We have now reached the last of the lakes in this direction,” she said quietly. “I think your automobile is admirable, Lord Stranleigh.”

The young man indulged in a deep sigh of satisfaction.

“As a landscape gardener on a marvellous scale, you are without a competitor, Miss Maturin.”

The girl laughed very sweetly.

“That is a compliment to nature rather than to me. I have merely let the wilderness alone, so far as road-making and dam-building would allow me.”

“In that very moderation lies genius – the leaving alone. Will you forgive the inquisitiveness of a mere man whom you suspected at our outset of success-worship, if he asks what practical object you have in view?”

“Oh, I should have thought that was self-evident to an observant person like yourself,” she said airily. “These lakes conserve the water, storing it in time of flood for use in time of scarcity. By means of sluices we obtain partial control of the main stream.”

“You flatter me by saying I am observant. I fear that I am rather the reverse, except where my interest is aroused, as is the case this morning. Is conservation your sole object, then?”

“Is not that enough?”

“I suppose it is. I know little of civil engineering, absorbing craft though it is. I have seen its marvels along your own lines in America, Egypt, India, and elsewhere. As we progressed I could not help noticing that the dams built to restrain these lakes seemed unnecessarily strong.”

A slight shadow of annoyance flitted across the expressive countenance of Constance Maturin, but was gone before he saw it.

“You are shrewder than you admit, Lord Stranleigh, but you forget what I said about freshets. The lakes are placid enough now, but you should see them after a cloud-burst back in the mountains.”

“Nevertheless, the dams look bulky enough to hold back the Nile.”

“Appearances are often deceitful. They are simply strong enough for the work they have to do. American engineering practice does not go in for useless encumbrance. Each dam serves two purposes. It holds back the water and it contains a power-house. In some of these power-houses turbines and dynamoes are already placed.”

“Ah, now I understand. You must perceive that I am a very stupid individual.”

“You are a very persistent person,” said the young woman decisively.

Stranleigh laughed.

“Allow me to take advantage of that reputation by asking you what you intend to do with the electricity when you have produced it?”

“We have no plans.”

“Oh, I say!”

“What do you say?”

“That was merely an Anglicised expression of astonishment.”

“Don’t you believe me?”

“No.”

They were sitting together on the automobile seat, deep in the shade of the foliage above them, but when he caught sight of the indignant face which she turned towards him, it almost appeared as if the sun shone upon it. She seemed about to speak, thought better of it, and reached forward to the little lever that controlled the self-starting apparatus. She found his hand there before she could carry out her intention.

“I am returning, Lord Stranleigh,” she said icily.

“Not yet.”

She leaned back in the seat.

“Mr. Trenton told me that you were the most polite man he had ever met. I have seldom found him so mistaken in an impression.”

“Was it a polite man you set out to find in your recent trip to Europe?”

As the girl made no reply, Stranleigh went on —

“My politeness is something like the dams we have been considering. It contains more than appears on the surface. There is concealed power within it. You may meet myriads of men well qualified to teach me courtesy, but when this veneer of social observance is broken, you come to pretty much the same material underneath. I seldom permit myself the luxury of an escape from the conventions, but on rare occasions I break through. For that I ask your pardon. Impressed by your sincerity, I forgot for the moment everything but your own need in the present crisis.”

“What crisis?” she asked indignantly.

“The financial crisis caused by your spending every available resource on this so-called conservation policy. To all intents and purposes you are now a bankrupt. Mrs. Vanderveldt has contributed all she can, and both you and she are afraid to tell her brother the true state of the case. You fear you will get little sympathy from him, for he is absorbed in coal-mines and railways, and both of you have already felt his annoyance at the law-suit in which you have involved him. Hence your desperate need of a capitalist. A really polite man would be a more pleasant companion than I, but he is not worth that, Miss Maturin!”

Stranleigh removed his hand from the lever long enough to snap fingers and thumb, but he instantly replaced it when he saw her determination to start the machine.

“The man of the moment, Miss Maturin, is a large and reckless capitalist. I am that capitalist.”

He released his hold of the lever, and sat upright. The sternness of his face relaxed.

“Now, Miss Maturin, turn on the power; take me where you like; dump me into any of those lakes you choose; the water is crystal clear, and I’m a good swimmer,” and with this Stranleigh indulged in a hearty laugh, his own genial self once more.

“You are laughing at me,” she said resentfully.

“Indeed I am not. Another contradiction, you see! I am laughing at myself. There’s nothing I loathe so much as strenuousness, and here I have fallen into the vice. It is the influence of that brawling river below us, I think. But the river becomes still enough, and useful enough, when it reaches the great lake at Powerville, which is big enough to swallow all these little ponds.”

The girl made no motion towards the lever, but sat very still, lost in thought. When she spoke, her voice was exceedingly quiet.

“You complimented Nature a while ago, intending, as I suppose, to compliment me, but I think after all the greater compliment is your straight talk, which I admire, although I received it so petulantly. I shall make no apology, beyond saying that my mind is very much perturbed. Your surmise is absolutely correct. It isn’t that I’ve spent the whole of my fortune and my friend’s fortune in this conservation scheme. It is because I have built a model city on the heights above Powerville. I was promised assistance from the banks, which is now withheld, largely, I suspect, through the opposition of John L. Boscombe, a reputed millionaire. To all intents and purposes Boscombe and I are the owners of Powerville and the mills there, but although this place was founded and built up by my father, I am a minority stock-holder, and powerless. Boscombe exercises control. Any suggestions or protests of mine are ignored, for Boscombe, like my father, has little faith – no faith at all, in fact – in the business capacity of a woman.