V.V.'s Eyes

The Project Gutenberg eBook, V. V.'s Eyes, by Henry Sydnor Harrison, Illustrated by Raymond M. Crosby

"IS THIS MISS HETH?"( page 44)

V.V.'s Eyes

BY

HENRY SYDNOR HARRISON

AUTHOR OF"QUEED"

WITH ILLUSTRATIONS

1913

To my first, second, and third reader

NORVELL

Who raises books by hand

CONTENTS

I

Two Houses, with a great Gulf between; of V. Vivian, M.D., and

what he thought of John the Baptist

1

II

Two Persons of More Importance, and why they went to the Beach in

October; Miss Carlisle Heth, and how she met an Unwelcome

Swain at Sea; how this Swain could swim enough for one

12

III

How Carlisle screamed when the Boat upset, or else didn't, as the

Case might be; also of Mrs. Heth, who went down Six Floors to

nail Falsehoods, etc.

26

IV

Mr. Hugo Canning, of the well-known Pursuing-Sex; how the Great

You ng Man pursued Miss Heth to a Summer-House, and what

stopped his Thundering Feet

36

VDialogue between V. Vivian, of the Slums, and Mr. Heth's Daughter

(or his Niece); and what the lovely Hun saw in the Mr. Vivian's

eyes, just before he asked God to pity her

48

VI

Of Carlisle's Bewilderment over all the Horrid Talk; of how it wasn't

her Fault that Gossip was so Unreliable; of the Greatest Game in the

World; also, of Mr. Heth, who didn't look like a Shameless Homicide

61

VII

How the Great Parti, pursued or pursuing to Cousin Willie Kerr's

Apartment, begins thundering again

73

VIII

Supper with the Cooneys: Poor Relations, but you must be Nice to them; of

Hen Cooney's friend V.V., as she irritatingly calls him; also relating how

Cally is asked for her Forgiveness, and can't seem to think what to say

87

IX

Concerning an Abandoned Hotel, and who lived there; also of an Abandoned You th,

who lived somewhere else, Far Away; how a Slum Doctor dressed for a Function,

such as involved Studs; and how Kern Garland wishted she was a Lady

105

XA Beautiful New Year's Party, and who spoiled it, and how; how

Something is done, after all, for she tells the Man plainly that he

mustn't speak to her any more

120

XI

In which Mr. Canning must go South for his Health, and Cally lies

awake to think

134

XII

How V. Vivian still felt the Same about the Huns, No Matter what

Sam Thought; also how Kern Garland lost Something at the

Works, and what made Mr. V.V. look at her That Way

146

XIII

How Life was Gray and Everything was Horrid; how Carlisle went to Little Africa

with Hen; how the Man spoke to her again, just the same, and what happened then;

further, reporting a Confidential Talk with a Best Girl-Friend

159

XIV

In which Cally tells a Certain Person that she isn't Happy--Very

180

XV

In which she goes to New York and is very Happy indeed

190

XVI

Of Happiness continuing, and what all the World loves; revealing,

however, that not Every Girl can do what the French People once did

201

XVII

Cally crosses the Great Gulf; and it isn't quite Clear how she will ever

cross back again

216

XVIII

Night-Thoughts on the Hardness of Religious Fellows, compelling you to be Hard,

too; Happier Things again, such as Hugo, Europe, Trousseaux, etc.; concluding

with a Letter from Texas and a Little Vulgarian in a Red Hat

235

XIX

How it is One Thing to run away from yourself, and another to escape; how Cally

orders the Best Cocktails, and gazes at her Mother asleep; also of Jefferson 4127,

and why Mamma left the Table in a hurry at the Café des Ambassadeurs

249

XX

In which Jack Dalhousie wears a New Dignity, and the Lame

Stranger comes to the House of Heth

266

XXI

That Day at the Beach, as we sit and look back at it; how Hugo

journeys to shield his Love from Harm, and Small Beginnings

can end with Uproars and a Proverb

278

XXII

One Summer in the Old Hotel; of the World's wagging on, Kern Garland,

and Prince Serge Suits; of how Kern leaves the Works for Good and has a

Dream about Mr. V.V.'s Beautiful Lady; of how Mr. V.V. came to sit in

the Still Watches and think again of John the Baptist

296

XXIII

One Summer in Europe, which she never speaks of now; Home again, with

what a Difference; Novel Questionings, as to what is a Friend, etc

320

XXIV

How the Best People came to the Old Hotel again; how Cally is Ornamental,

maybe, but hardly a Useful Person; how she encounters Three Surprises

from Three Various Men, all disagreeable but the Last

334

XXV

In which the Name of Heth is lifted beyond the Reach of Hateful Malice,

and Mamma wishes that she had the Ten Thousand back again

351

XXVI

Concerning Women who won't remember their Place, and a Speech to

Two Hundred of them, by Mr. V.V., no less; also revealing why

Hen Cooney never found V.V. in the Crowd around the Platform

363

XXVII

Of one of the Triumphs of Cally's Life, and the Tête-à-tête following,

which vaguely depresses her; of the Little Work-Girl who brought

the Note that Sunday, oddly remet at Gentlemen's Furnishings

378

XXVIII

A Little Visit to the Birthplace of the Family; how Cally thinks

Socialism and almost faints, and Hugo's Afternoon of Romance

ends Short in the Middle

394

XXIX

One Hour, in which she apologizes twice for her Self, her Life and

Works; and once she is beautifully forgiven, and once she never

will be, this Side of the Last Trump

410

XXX

How it sounded like an Epitaph, but still she would not cry; how she

thinks of the Beach again, and hugs a Hateful Word to her

Bosom; how Hugo starts suddenly on a sort of We dding-Trip

427

XXXI

Second Cataclysm in the House; of the Dark Cloud obscuring the New Day,

and the Violets that had faded behind a Curtain, etc.; but chiefly of

a Little Talk with Mamma, which produced Moral Results, after all

443

XXXII

Time's Jests, and now the Perfect Apology, to stand a Lifetime in

Brick and Stone; concluding with a Little Scene, which she will

remember while she lives

459

XXXIII

Her Last Day, in this His tory; how she wakes with a Wonder in her

Heart, has her Banquet laid at the Board of the Cooneys, dreams

back over the Long Strange Year; finally how she learns Something

that not Everybody Knows: what it is like at the End of the World

476

XXXIV

In which to love much is to be much loved, and Kern's Dearest Dream

(but one) comes True

495

ILLUSTRATIONS

"IS THIS MISS HETH?"( page 44)

Frontispiece

"THERE'S SOMETHING WRONG, SIR, MR. V.V."

118

"PLEASE DON'T TROUBLE, HUGO"

260

"PAPA--I WANT TO INTRODUCE A GOOD FRIEND OF MINE--DR. VIVIAN"

474

From drawings by Raymond M. Crosby

V.V.'s Eyes

ITwo Houses, with a great Gulf between; of V. Vivian, M.D., and what he thought of John the Baptist.

V. Vivian, M.D. by the paint upon his window, dwelt in the Dabney House; Mr. Heth--pronounced Heath if you value his wife's good opinion--dwelt in the House of his cognomen. Between the two lay a scant mile of city streets. But then this happened to be the particular mile which traversed, while of course it could not span, the Great Gulf fixed.

In one sense (though the wrong one) the Dabney House was the more impressive of the pair of domiciles: for it was seven stories tall and had two hundred rooms; while the House of Heth was only four stories and basement, and had but fourteen rooms, counting in the trunk-room. But physical size is size only: whereby hang few tales. Over and in the Heth House there prevailed the most charming air of ease with dignity, of taste plus means, that you could well imagine: while the circumambient atmosphere of the Dabney House, not to put too fine a point on it, was the abomination of desolation, or that abomination's little brother. Before the one stretched a brilliant street where imposing residences crowded each other just as close as they could crowd, and still be imposing, and residences. Behind the other stretched the likeliest the city could show in the way of slums, and, farther back, just over the brow of the sinister Hill, something less cheering than honest slums. One glittered upon the future; the other decayed into the past. And it would cost you--to clinch the comparison with the true and only--two thousand dollars a year, say, to secure Mr. Heth's house, negotiating with his executor at that; while in the great pile of the eponymous Dabney, you could have all of three rooms and (portable) bath for twelve dollars a month, though strictly cash in advance....

Cartographers, with their miserable mathematics, called this a statute mile, which, as we say, a brisk man can walk in the smoking of a cigarette. But the authors of the Blue Book, grave fellows who have better struck the scales from their eyes, would have computed you this distance at N, which is infinity: and so closed up the book. For what bridge shall cross the uncrossable, what ferryman ply for silver pounds on the Great Gulf? An image-breaking age; no doubt; but there are limits, in decency. No thread of destiny or clue of circumstance shall connect two Houses set upon the poles of the world....

So spoke the Blue Book: judging somewhat by the look of it, after all, pronouncing not without a touch of the weary wisdom which comes of knowing too much. But is it not written how the hussy Appearance wears a painted face, justly open to interrogation?--how there stands a summit from which a man shall see yet more sharply than his most admired authors, above referred to? Hence, look down. And behold, against the sunny day two clues now visible upon the bosom of the Gulf, to wit: the dark-eyed lad so oddly taking hired-carriage exercise up and down Washington Street, between eight-thirty and ten-thirty A.M.; and yon half-column of winged words in"The People's Forum"column of this morning's"Post,"under the caption (supplied by the editor):"Severe Arraignment of Local Factory Conditions."

The Dabney House felt the pluckings first. They were Nobodies there; and by that token they were early risers.

She was fluttered to-day, was Mrs. Garland, by the nocturnal reappearance of her errant husband, Mister, as simply called: but she did not forget the iron rule. The"Post"was under the door by seven o'clock. Dr. Vivian perused by seven-fifteen. He perused with a peculiar and paternal gusto: for doctoring was not his meat and drink, and he had written these winged words himself. But of the vehicular lad he heard nothing till some hours later, when Labor Commissioner O'Neill, skirting the old park from Centre Street, where he had been for cigars, dropped in on the way back to his office.

Even here, the words came first. O'Neill had a"Post"in his hand.

It was then nearing eleven o'clock. The doctor sat at a tall old"secretary"between his windows, swinging round with expectancy as his friend entered. The re were still people of a sort, human beings in a manner of speaking, in the waiting-room; but he let them wait now, that being what the room was for.

"We ll?... How'd it strike you?"

The Labor Commissioner mopped his brow with a snowy handkerchief, which released into the office the scent of cologne. He was a stoutish man, and the morning, for autumn, was astonishingly warm.

"We ll, it's ill-timed, V.V.,"said he, without ill-humor."And--kind of extreme. I told you the other day how I felt about it."

The face of the medico fell.

"I thought you said you approved of a good, pertinent letter, to show that the laity were backing you up!"

"I said a mild, easy-tempered letter might be all right. But--"

"Why, Sam, don't you think that's an Awfully mild letter? You ought to see what I edited out of it."

"We ll, you left in enough to let the'Post'in for a damage suit, all right. You, too.... Only you won't have much to lodge a judgment against, long's you haven't got a billhead printed and charge regular fees like I told you."

"I'm perfectly responsible--far as that goes. Don't you worry."

The doctor's look showed that he considered O'Neill's pleasantry in bad taste, to say the least of it. He had told Sam often enough, one would think, that he meant before long to put in a good businesslike system of fees, small fees....

The Commissioner was continuing:"Point is, V.V., there's nothing gained getting these people's backs way up. They're sore now. A little tact, a little bit of--"

"Tact!"

"Sure thing. Look here, old boy, remember it's only a week since my report was in the papers, practically blacklisting those four plants, and I've already called personally on every one of'em, putting it right up to'em. You heard me at Heth's and the Pickle people's, yourself. I guess I put it up about as strong as could be done, hey? And that's all can be done till I get me some more law. Put it right square...."

But V. Vivian, gazing steadily over the chair-back, had obviously been stoking his inner fuel.

"Ah! Rousing public opinion's no use at all?... Why, don't you

know that public opinion is the grandfather of your little statute-book laws? Don't you--"

"Yair. Know. See you say that in your letter."

"We ll, it's a great truth!... How tactful will you feel some day, when one of those floors at the Heth Works collapses and kills a hundred people?"

Labor Commissioner O'Neill seemed unterrified by the grisly picture. He was strolling about the very large, bare, and strange-looking medical office, flicking cigar-ash where he would: a good-natured-looking Commissioner of thirty, wearing a glossy brown suit and strong yellow gloves. And his present pacific air was undoubtedly to his credit; certainly he had been annoyed when his eye first fell on the"Severe Arraignment,"over his morning rasher....

"And that isn't the worst of it,"shot the doctor again, flinging out an Arm."It's only a detail, I say, this factory end of it; only a symptom, don't you see? What we're dealing with is the most dangerous element in the life of this city! Tact!... When fire couldn't sweep through that new house of yours faster than the corrupting ideals of these people'll lick through this community!"

"Whe-ew!"said Sam O'Neill, this ground being not unfamiliar...."Got to take'em along slowly, Doctor, all the same. Rome wasn't built in a day."

"But mark my words, the vandals kicked it down in about fifteen minutes."

O'Neill felt vaguely worsted by this riposte. He was the older man, the practical man, with a proven ability to make money out of real estate; but old V.V., though talking like an Anarchist of late, was admitted to have a verbal dexterity at debate. Argument was forced upon Sam, as it were. He demanded authority for calling these people corrupting; desired to know if V.V. knew any of'em personally. And presently he was reading aloud from the letter in the"Post,"reading retributively; one swingeing phrase after another.

"And here--here! Listen to this, will you?--'Why should we stand by and permit these shameless egoists of industry to bleed the strength from the community's sinew and grow rich by homicide at the cost of the race?'..."