She remembered some lines from a poem she had liked in her schooldays:--Henceforth the world will only be A wider prison-house to me,--and sighed. A disgust of life weighed upon her heart; some such feeling as had twice frozen Frank Shabata's features while they talked together. She wished she were back on the Divide.
When Alexandra entered her hotel, the clerk held up one finger and beckoned to her. As she approached his desk, he handed her a telegram.
Alexandra took the yellow envelope and looked at it in perplexity, then stepped into the ele-vator without opening it. As she walked down the corridor toward her room, she reflected that she was, in a manner, immune from evil tid-ings. On reaching her room she locked the door, and sitting down on a chair by the dresser, opened the telegram. It was from Hanover, and it read:--Arrived Hanover last night. Shall wait here until you come. Please hurry.
CARL LINSTRUM.
Alexandra put her head down on the dresser and burst into tears.
Alexandra III
The next afternoon Carl and Alexandra were walking across the fields from Mrs.
Hiller's. Alexandra had left Lincoln after mid-night, and Carl had met her at the Hanover station early in the morning. After they reached home, Alexandra had gone over to Mrs. Hiller's to leave a little present she had bought for her in the city. They stayed at the old lady's door but a moment, and then came out to spend the rest of the afternoon in the sunny fields.
Alexandra had taken off her black traveling-suit and put on a white dress; partly because she saw that her black clothes made Carl un-comfortable and partly because she felt op-pressed by them herself. They seemed a little like the prison where she had worn them yester-day, and to be out of place in the open fields.
Carl had changed very little. His cheeks were browner and fuller. He looked less like a tired scholar than when he went away a year ago, but no one, even now, would have taken him for a man of business. His soft, lustrous black eyes, his whimsical smile, would be less against him in the Klondike than on the Divide. There are always dreamers on the frontier.
Carl and Alexandra had been talking since morning. Her letter had never reached him.
He had first learned of her misfortune from a San Francisco paper, four weeks old, which he had picked up in a saloon, and which con-tained a brief account of Frank Shabata's trial.
When he put down the paper, he had already made up his mind that he could reach Alexandra as quickly as a letter could; and ever since he had been on the way; day and night, by the fastest boats and trains he could catch. His steamer had been held back two days by rough weather.
As they came out of Mrs. Hiller's garden they took up their talk again where they had left it.
"But could you come away like that, Carl, without arranging things? Could you just walk off and leave your business?" Alexandra asked.
Carl laughed. "Prudent Alexandra! You see, my dear, I happen to have an honest partner.
I trust him with everything. In fact, it's been his enterprise from the beginning, you know.
I'm in it only because he took me in. I'll have to go back in the spring. Perhaps you will want to go with me then. We haven't turned up millions yet, but we've got a start that's worth following. But this winter I'd like to spend with you. You won't feel that we ought to wait longer, on Emil's account, will you, Alexandra?"Alexandra shook her head. "No, Carl; I don't feel that way about it. And surely you needn't mind anything Lou and Oscar say now. They are much angrier with me about Emil, now, than about you. They say it was all my fault. That I ruined him by sending him to college.""No, I don't care a button for Lou or Oscar. The moment I knew you were in trou-ble, the moment I thought you might need me, it all looked different. You've always been a triumphant kind of person." Carl hesitated, looking sidewise at her strong, full figure. "But you do need me now, Alex-andra?"
She put her hand on his arm. "I needed you terribly when it happened, Carl. I cried for you at night. Then everything seemed to get hard inside of me, and I thought perhaps I should never care for you again. But when I got your telegram yesterday, then--then it was just as it used to be. You are all I have in the world, you know."Carl pressed her hand in silence. They were passing the Shabatas' empty house now, but they avoided the orchard path and took one that led over by the pasture pond.
"Can you understand it, Carl?" Alexandra murmured. "I have had nobody but Ivar and Signa to talk to. Do talk to me. Can you un-derstand it? Could you have believed that of Marie Tovesky? I would have been cut to pieces, little by little, before I would have betrayed her trust in me!"Carl looked at the shining spot of water before them. "Maybe she was cut to pieces, too, Alexandra. I am sure she tried hard; they both did. That was why Emil went to Mexico, of course. And he was going away again, you tell me, though he had only been home three weeks. You remember that Sunday when Iwent with Emil up to the French Church fair?
