The Self-Enchanted (12 page)

S
he was in the hospital for three weeks. When her fever had gone down they told her that she was not to be alarmed, that she was blind, but that she would see again. And it was true. In a few days she could see, dimly at first, but then more clearly. They told her that her recovery was only a matter of time, but the time went slowly. Her doctor had a narrow beard and one of her nurses a wart on one cheek, but that was all she knew about them. She did not even know where the hospital was, or how she had got there. One morning she saw the old-fashioned bureau with a vase of roses on it, and the exact size of the window, and outside she heard the sudden alarmed chirrup of a robin and the sound of a heavy truck going by. And once more life came into focus.

It was her day nurse who told her that she was in Reno. The nurse was a nun, and in her headdress her face looked pale, unreal, like a winter rose. But she had firm,
muscular
arms and a reassuring professional bustle about her.

Her biggest surprise was when they brought her a
mirror
. She was startled to see herself so clearly. She looked as she had always looked. It was like looking out at the face of a girl. Her face was more innocent than she was, for inside she had somehow grown older. It was a strange
sensation. She felt bigger and more competent than her own body.

She tried not to think of Christopher, and she did not know what she would do now. Each day the flowers in her room were renewed, and she knew that they came from him, but he sent no message. She disciplined herself to remember every moment of her life with him, from the first meeting to that awful scene in the boat. She could remember what had happened, but she could not
remember
how she had felt about any of it. She had passed over a bridge, from one self to another. The difference made her sad, though she did not know quite why.

She saw her doctor every day. His name was Hanley, and he was young and she had confidence in him. He was the only outsider she saw, and that made his visits the more important to her. Thinking about the doctor, she realized the truth about Christopher, or so she thought. He was mad; not insane, but mad. What had driven him so she did not know. And he was not mad all the time. That horrible old woman in the portrait had been mad as well. Once she realized that, she began to look forward to seeing him again. For she had married him and she could not turn back. She did not even want to any more. She did not, she thought, love him, but she did want to see what would happen next. She was ready for life again.

It was Dr. Hanley who brought the subject up.

“Oh,” she said. “Is he in Reno?”

“Yes. He told me to notify him when I thought you would be well enough to see him, so I wired.” Dr. Hanley seemed ill at ease. He wandered about the room and stopped at the roses.

“What did he tell you about all this?” she asked.

“That you fell overboard,” said Hanley. Looking at him, she saw that it was what he preferred to believe. “And will you see him?” he asked.

“Yes, I’ll see him.” A calm had settled over her that made it difficult to think. She did not greatly care. She did wonder why she had been allowed to remain alone for so long, for if she was right, Christopher did not dare to leave her alone. She did not even feel angry with him. He had almost killed her, yet it did not seem to matter.

When he did come, the nurse announced him. When he came in he seemed altered. Somehow he had shrunk. He had lost weight, and his gestures were nervous. She was shocked. There was something pleading in his eyes, and she looked away. He waited for the nurse to leave. The change in him was alarming. She wondered what had happened.

“How are you?” he asked awkwardly.

“Much better. And you?”

“Well enough,” he said shortly. “I’ve been busy.”

“The doctor said you were in San Francisco.”

“I was.” He moved idly round the room, not wanting to come too close to her. He fiddled with the roses. “Did you like the flowers?” he asked. “I should have sent a decent vase.”

“It’s quite pretty.”

There was little to say, and she sat watching him. His eyes were dead. Unexpectedly, with a touch of his old manner, he turned to her, as though searching for
something
.

“I think I’ve learned a lesson from this,” he said. He hesitated. “I want you to come back. Never mind why.”

“I think I know why.”

This seemed to upset him. “We won’t go back to the house,” he said. “We’ll go anywhere you please. Perhaps you’d like to go to San Francisco.”

She wondered why he wanted to go to San Francisco, but it did not seem important.

“I can’t stand it,” he said. “I’ve got to have help. And, well, I’ve left you everything. I’ve made my will.”

There was something wrong with his voice that she could not identify. Looking at him, she made up her mind, realizing at the same time that there was nothing else for her to do. She knew she must not ask him if he was ill.

“Very well,” she said. It was all she could say.
Enthusiasm
or kindness would not come.

“The doctor says you can leave to-morrow. You needn’t if you don’t want to. I’ve taken a suite at the Mapes. I won’t call for you. I’ll have a car sent out.” He stopped, crossed the room, and kissed her swiftly on the forehead. “Thanks,” he said, and left the room.

Long after he was gone, she tried to think it over. His promises meant nothing. He would break his promises. But that kiss had been different. It had been pathetic, and that was another and more puzzling Christopher. But she could not puzzle it out. It was useless to try.

*

A week later they flew down to San Francisco.

She had wanted to go there all her life, yet she could not feel that thrill she had always imagined. It was spring, and yet she felt old. As she looked out the window of the plane, she saw spread below her all the world that she had never seen, from the higher mountains, still locked in winter, with here and there a frozen lake, to the foothills, already covered with the poignant flowered
grass. At last she saw below her the sparkle of sluggish water that was San Francisco Bay. The hills were lushly green all around the water, and the sun caught the
windows
of tall buildings, so that the world looked as though it were sprinkled with diamonds. And there, across the Bay, rose San Francisco itself, fretted with wharves. She remembered pictures she had seen of the city
at night, when the bay was an immense lagoon, fringed and dotted with white and yellow lights, and when the pink glare of neon lit up the heavens in a glowing cloud. It seemed that it was the most beautiful city in the world, and she
wondered
what would happen to her there.

Yet she was still trapped in a world of arrangements, of chartered automobiles, planes, and railroad compartments, a world in which Christopher felt he had to keep her locked in. For he had not changed. It was foolish of her to imagine that he could change. Looking at him, no matter what his mood was now, she felt that she was too weak either to stand up to him or to get away from him. She was a prisoner for life. He asked her if she felt all right, and she said yes, but she felt like crying. Even more than in the mountains, she knew she would have to stay with Christopher. She could not face all these strangers alone.

Their hotel, which was on Nob Hill, was the biggest building she had ever seen in her life, all plush and gold. In the elevator she felt herself rising upward through a world in which she could never have a part.

They had a suite on the fifth floor at the front. She could see over the square, and sometimes she watched the people pass by. She would wake up in the middle of the night with the feeling that she was slipping down through infinite space. Her body ached for someone to comfort
her. She was miserably lonely, for Christopher seemed eager to keep her at a distance. She did not dare to ask him anything.

*

It was on the third day that a note arrived from Nora Blake.

It came early, when they were dressing for breakfast. She heard someone at the door, and when she came into the sitting-room he was standing at the door and
re-reading
the note.

“What is it?”

“It’s a note from someone called Nora. She’s a friend of mine. And of Curt’s. At least, we know each other,” he said, with a wry expression. “She wants us to come for cocktails, this afternoon.”

“Do you want to go?”

He hesitated, fingering the letter with a shade of his familiar smile back on his face again. “Yes,” he said. “Yes, I think I do.” He straightened up. “Don’t look so puzzled. We’ll go, if you feel well enough.”

“Will there be a lot of people there?”

“I don’t know. There usually are. They needn’t worry you. Nora’s friends are interested only in themselves.”

“I’ve never been to a cocktail party before.”

“So what?” he said.

*

It was not far, so they walked. It was a building
half-way
down the hill, in whose courtyard she had often seen a fountain playing. The entry to Nora’s was very smart. The walls were red and white stripes, and over the door was a checkered canopy with a stuffed bird perched on the edge of it, looking down. The inside of the apartment
was like that, too. A Filipino answered the door and put their coats on a silver tree that was used as a coat rack. They went into the living-room. It was large and crowded with people. Christopher led her to a chair by a window. “Wait here,” he said. “Nobody’s going to bite you. I’ll go and find Nora.”

He went away and left her. Everybody ignored her completely, and she was glad that they did. Then he came back and led her through the crowd. Sitting in a chair in front of the fireplace was a cleverly-dressed woman of about sixty. Her hair was cut in bangs over her forehead, and her skin was drawn back painfully from her face, which made her mouth pout. Her legs were crossed, and she had very young-looking legs. Sally felt herself being examined shrewdly. The woman had round malicious eyes which she tried to soften with a smile. She sent Christopher off to get Sally a drink.

“Sit down, dear,” she said. “I’ve been curious about you for so long, and Christopher likes to keep his little secrets hidden.” Her voice was metallic. “I must say, I never thought he would marry, but then I suppose his mother’s death upset him. And he’s an odd man. He needs a woman’s hand. I’ve always thought that.” She looked up sharply. “Are you happy? But then I needn’t ask that. I’m sure you are.” Her voice was somewhat dry. “Have a drink,” she said, as Christopher reappeared. “Take my experience: people are awful until you’ve had a couple of drinks.”

If anything else was clear to Sally, it was that
Christopher
and Nora hated each other. Yet Christopher said, “I was thinking maybe you might help Sally get the hang of things.”

Nora put down her glass. “I don’t think she needs to be taught anything,” she said. “She’s a dear the way she is.” She reached over and patted Sally’s hand. Christopher shrugged and moved away.

Nora glanced after him. “Do you know Curt?” she asked unexpectedly.

“Yes, I know him.” Sally became aware of the hissing of the fire in the fireplace. It grew louder, until she thought her head would burst with the sound of it.

“He’s a bit of a fool, but he means well,” said Nora. “I got him that job, you know. I understand he’s starting up on his own now.”

Sally said nothing. She felt suddenly ill.

“I hope Christopher won’t try to interfere. He
sometimes
does, you know.”

Sally felt dizzier
and dizzier. Nora got up and took her arm. “Come with me,” she said. “I want to show you the house.” She led her the length of the room and through a door. It was clearly Nora’s bedroom. “Lie down and you’ll feel better,” said Nora. “No one will disturb you here. Would you like some ice?”
Sally shook her head. “I’ll tell Christopher you weren’t feeling well. Stay here as long as you like.”

She looked at Sally absently, and Sally began to cry. Her head was whirling madly. “You’ve been ill and you’re overtired,” said Nora. “And if you ever want to talk to someone, well, you must lead a lonely life. Come and see me.” She left the room.

Sally rolled over on her stomach, not quite sure why she was crying, and tried to stop the whirring in her head. For Christopher would not forgive her for having too much to drink.

It wasn’t until next morning at breakfast that he asked her if she had liked Nora.

“I liked her very much.”

“I’d rather you didn’t see too much of her, all the same. You shouldn’t go out too much. Dr. Hanley said you’d had some kind of nervous shock.”

“Did you tell him what kind?”

Christopher winced. “You’re free to come and go as you like,” he said. “You know that. But I don’t think that in your condition it would be a good idea.”

“You don’t give a damn about my condition.”

They were in the public dining-room, and he told her to keep her voice down. “Go if you wish,” he said, “but take a cab.”

“You know it’s safe for me to go out, since I don’t know anybody in town, don’t you?”

“You’re being hysterical.”

“I’m not being hysterical.” Her mind wavered round to something else. “What have you got against Nora?”

Christopher put down his cup and looked at her sharply. “Nora hates my guts and I hate hers. It’s none of your affair. It’s a business matter.”

“But if you hate her, and you think she’s dangerous, why did you take me there?”

He had finished his breakfast and crumpled up his napkin. “She dared me on. I thought I’d call her bluff, that’s all. If you want to go out, go.”

“I think I shall,” she said unsteadily.

He was angry. “Very well. I suppose you’ll be back for dinner.”

“I’ll be back when I feel like it.”

After he had gone, she realized that she was alone in the
expanses of the hotel coffee shop, and that everyone could see that she had had a quarrel with her husband and that she was ill. She went up to their suite. Christopher was not there. She was determined to go out, and afraid that in some way he might prevent her doing so. Instead of taking the elevator, she went down the stairs and out through the lobby. From the hotel she took a cable car down town. It was a bright day, and the light hurt her
eyes.
She went window shopping, and at last went into a store. She did not know what she wanted, and the clerk confused her. It was then that she saw Nora. Nora, dressed in black, was standing at a glove counter, arguing with a tired-looking salesgirl.