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Page 81
It was a raw March day, with a steely sun going down in a pale-gray sky.
Patches of snow lingered in sheltered brushy places. This bit of woodland
had a floor of soft sand that dragged at Carley's feet. There were sere and
brown leaves still fluttering on the scrub-oaks. At length Carley came out
on the edge of the bluff with the gray expanse of sea beneath her, and a
long wandering shore line, ragged with wreckage or driftwood. The surge of
water rolled in--a long, low, white, creeping line that softly roared on
the beach and dragged the pebbles gratingly back. There was neither boat
nor living creature in sight.
Carley felt the scene ease a clutching hand within her breast. Here was
loneliness and solitude vastly different from that of Oak Creek Canyon, yet
it held the same intangible power to soothe. The swish of the surf, the
moan of the wind in the evergreens, were voices that called to her. How
many more miles of lonely land than peopled cities! Then the sea--how vast!
And over that the illimitable and infinite sky, and beyond, the endless
realms of space. It helped her somehow to see and hear and feel the eternal
presence of nature. In communion with nature the significance of life might
be realized. She remembered Glenn quoting: "The world is too much with us.
. . . Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers." What were our powers?
What did God intend men to do with hands and bodies and gifts and souls?
She gazed back over the bleak land and then out across the broad sea. Only
a millionth part of the surface of the unsubmerged earth knew the populous
abodes of man. And the lonely sea, inhospitable to stable homes of men, was
thrice the area of the land. Were men intended, then, to congregate in few
places, to squabble and to bicker and breed the discontents that led to
injustice, hatred, and war? What a mystery it all was! But Nature was
neither false nor little, however cruel she might be.
Once again Carley fell under the fury of her ordeal. Wavering now,
restless and sleepless, given to violent starts and slow spells of apathy,
she was wearing to defeat.
That spring day, one year from the day she had left New York for Arizona,
she wished to spend alone. But her thoughts grew unbearable. She summed up
the endless year. Could she live another like it? Something must break
within her.
She went out. The air was warm and balmy, carrying that subtle current
which caused the mild madness of spring fever. In the Park the greening of
the grass, the opening of buds, the singing of birds, the gladness of
children, the light on the water, the warm sun--all seemed to reproach her.
Carley fled from the Park to the home of Beatrice Lovell; and there,
unhappily, she encountered those of her acquaintance with whom she had
least patience. They forced her to think too keenly of herself. They
appeared carefree while she was miserable.
Over teacups there were waging gossip and argument and criticism. When
Carley entered with Beatrice there was a sudden hush and then a murmur.
"Hello, Carley! Now say it to our faces," called out Geralda Conners, a
fair, handsome young woman of thirty, exquisitely gowned in the latest
mode, and whose brilliantly tinted complexion was not the natural one of
health.
"Say what, Geralda?" asked Carley. "I certainly would not say anything
behind your backs that I wouldn't repeat here."
"Eleanor has been telling us how you simply burned us up."
"We did have an argument. And I'm not sure I said all I wanted to."
"Say the rest here," drawled a lazy, mellow voice. "For Heaven's sake, stir
us up. If I could get a kick out of anything I'd bless it."
"Carley, go on the stage," advised another. "You've got Elsie Ferguson tied
to the mast for looks. And lately you're surely tragic enough."
"I wish you'd go somewhere far off!" observed a third. "My husband is dippy
about you."
"Girls, do you know that you actually have not one sensible idea in your
heads?" retorted Carley.
"Sensible? I should hope not. Who wants to be sensible?"
Geralda battered her teacup on a saucer. "Listen," she called. "I wasn't
kidding Carley. I am good and sore. She goes around knocking everybody and
saying New York backs Sodom off the boards. I want her to come out with it
right here."
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