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| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 02:47:58 -0700 |
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diff --git a/29654-h/29654-h.htm b/29654-h/29654-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..e84b7a0 --- /dev/null +++ b/29654-h/29654-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,9071 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" +"http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> +<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Wall Street Girl, by Frederick Orin Bartlett.</title> + +<style type="text/css"> + @media screen { + hr.pb {margin:30px 0; width:100%; border:none;border-top:thin dashed silver;} + .pagenum {display: inline; font-size: x-small; text-align: right; position: absolute; right: 2%; padding: 1px 3px; font-style: normal; font-variant:normal; font-weight:normal; text-decoration: none; background-color: inherit; border:1px solid #eee;} + .pncolor {color: silver;} + } + @media print { + hr.pb {border:none;page-break-after: always;} + .pagenum { display:none; } + } + span.rindent8 {margin-left: 0; padding-left:0; width: 3.2em; padding-right: 0; margin-right: 0; display: block; float: right;} + a {text-decoration: none;} + body {margin-left: 11%; margin-right: 10%;} + td.chalgn {text-align:right; margin-top:0; padding-right:1em;} + span.indent4 {margin-left: 0; padding-left:0; width: 1.6em; padding-right: 0; margin-right: 0; display: block; float: left;} + .figcenter {margin: 2em auto 2em auto; text-align: center; width: auto;} + .figtag {height: 1px;} + p.lalign {text-align: left !important;} + .chsp {margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em;} + p {margin-top: 0.5em; text-align: justify; margin-bottom: 0.5em;} + span.rindent2 {margin-left: 0; padding-left:0; width: 0.8em; padding-right: 0; margin-right: 0; display: block; float: right;} + p.ralign {text-align: right !important;} + hr.toprule {width: 65%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 2em; border:none; border-bottom:1px solid silver; clear:both;} + .caption {font-size: 90%; text-align:center;} + span.rindent14 {margin-left: 0; padding-left:0; width: 5.6em; padding-right: 0; margin-right: 0; display: block; float: right;} + hr.tb {border: none; border-bottom:1px solid black; width: 33%; margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px;} + table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; clear: both;} + span.indent8 {margin-left: 0; padding-left:0; width: 3.2em; padding-right: 0; margin-right: 0; display: block; float: left;} + span.rindent16 {margin-left: 0; padding-left:0; width: 6.4em; padding-right: 0; margin-right: 0; display: block; float: right;} + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps} + h3 {font-size:1.0em;} + h1,h2,h3 {text-align:center; font-weight:normal;} + blockquote {display: block; margin: .75em 5%; font-size: 90%;} + p.tp {font-size:1em; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0; text-align:center;} + h1 {font-size:1.4em;} + h2 {font-size:1.2em;} +</style> + +</head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +Project Gutenberg's The Wall Street Girl, by Frederick Orin Bartlett + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Wall Street Girl + +Author: Frederick Orin Bartlett + +Illustrator: George Ellis Wolfe + +Release Date: August 10, 2009 [EBook #29654] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE WALL STREET GIRL *** + + + + +Produced by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<div class='figtag'> +<a name='linki_1' id='linki_1'></a> +</div> +<div class='figcenter'> +<img src='images/ifpc.jpg' alt='' title='' width='341' height='464' /><br /> +<p class='caption'> +“DON DEAR, YOU’RE LIVING TOO MUCH DOWNTOWN”<br /> +</p> +</div> +<hr class='pb' /> +<p class='tp' style='font-size:1.8em;margin-top:40px;'>THE</p> +<p class='tp' style='font-size:2.2em;margin-bottom:20px;'>WALL STREET GIRL</p> +<p class='tp' >BY</p> +<p class='tp' style='font-size:1.4em;margin-bottom:80px;'>FREDERICK ORIN BARTLETT</p> +<p class='tp' style='font-size:smaller;'>WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY</p> +<p class='tp' style='font-size:1.2em;'>GEORGE ELLIS WOLFE</p> +<div style='margin:50px auto; text-align:center;'><img alt='emblem' src='images/iemb.png' /></div> +<p class='tp' style='letter-spacing:0.2em;'>NEW YORK</p> +<p class='tp' style='letter-spacing:0.2em;font-size:1.25em;'>GROSSET & DUNLAP</p> +<p class='tp' style='letter-spacing:0.2em;margin-bottom:40px;'>PUBLISHERS</p> +<hr class='pb' /> +<p class='tp' style='margin-top:20px;font-size:smaller;'>COPYRIGHT, 1915 AND 19l6, BY EVERY WEEK CORPORATION</p> +<p class='tp' style='font-size:smaller;'>COPYRIGHT, 1916, BY FREDERICK ORIN BARTLETT</p> +<p class='tp' style='margin-top:15px;font-size:smaller;'>ALL RIGHTS RESERVED</p> +<p class='tp' style='margin-bottom:20px;margin-top:20px;font-style:italic;'>Published September 1916</p> +<hr class='pb' /> +<p class='tp' ><span style='font-size:smaller;'>TO</span><br />THALIA</p> +<hr class='pb' /> +<h3>CONTENTS</h3> +<table border='0' cellpadding='2' cellspacing='0' summary='Contents' style='margin:1em auto;'> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>I.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>Don Receives a Jolt</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_I_DON_RECEIVES_A_JOLT'>1</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>II.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>It Becomes Necessary to Eat</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_II_IT_BECOMES_NECESSARY_TO_EAT'>11</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>III.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>The Queen Was in the Parlor</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_III_THE_QUEEN_WAS_IN_THE_PARLOR'>20</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>IV.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>Concerning Sandwiches</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_IV_CONCERNING_SANDWICHES'>27</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>V.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>Business</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_V_BUSINESS'>43</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>VI.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>Two Girls</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_VI_TWO_GIRLS'>64</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>VII.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>Roses</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_VII_ROSES'>71</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>VIII.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>A Man of Affairs</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_VIII_A_MAN_OF_AFFAIRS'>80</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>IX.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>It Will Never Do</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_IX_IT_WILL_NEVER_DO'>93</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>X.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>Dictation</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_X_DICTATION'>100</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>XI.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>Steak, With Mushrooms and Advice</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XI_STEAK_WITH_MUSHROOMS_AND_ADVICE'>111</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>XII.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>A Social Widow</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XII_A_SOCIAL_WIDOW'>123</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>XIII.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>Dear Sir––</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XIII_DEAR_SIR'>129</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>XIV.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>In Reply</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XIV_IN_REPLY'>138</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>XV.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>Cost</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XV_COST'>144</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>XVI.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>A Memorandum</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XVI_A_MEMORANDUM'>153</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>XVII.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>On the Way Home</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XVII_ON_THE_WAY_HOME'>161</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>XVIII.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>A Discourse on Salaries</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XVIII_A_DISCOURSE_ON_SALARIES'>171</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>XIX.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>A Letter</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XIX_A_LETTER'>184</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>XX.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>Stars</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XX_STARS'>185</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>XXI.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>In the Dark</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XXI_IN_THE_DARK'>193</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>XXII.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>The Sensible Thing</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XXII_THE_SENSIBLE_THING'>200</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>XXIII.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>Looking Ahead</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XXIII_LOOKING_AHEAD'>207</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>XXIV.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>Vacations</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XXIV_VACATIONS'>215</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>XXV.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>In the Park</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XXV_IN_THE_PARK'>223</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>XXVI.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>One Stuyvesant</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XXVI_ONE_STUYVESANT'>238</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>XXVII.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>The Stars Again</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XXVII_THE_STARS_AGAIN'>247</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>XXVIII.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>Seeing</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XXVIII_SEEING'>256</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>XXIX.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>Mostly Sally</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XXIX_MOSTLY_SALLY'>264</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>XXX.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>Don Explains</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XXX_DON_EXPLAINS'>275</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>XXXI.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>Sally Decides</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XXXI_SALLY_DECIDES'>295</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>XXXII.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>Barton Appears</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XXXII_BARTON_APPEARS'>305</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>XXXIII.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>A Bully World</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XXXIII_A_BULLY_WORLD'>317</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>XXXIV.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>Don Makes Good</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XXXIV_DON_MAKES_GOOD'>321</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>XXXV.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>“Home, John”</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XXXV_HOME_JOHN'>330</a></td> +</tr> +</table> +<hr class='pb' /> +<h1>THE WALL STREET GIRL</h1> +<hr class='pb' /> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_1' name='page_1'></a>1</span></div> +<p style='text-align:center;margin-top:1.5em;margin-bottom:1em;font-size:1.3em;'>THE WALL STREET GIRL</p> +<div class='chsp' style='padding-top:0'> +<a name='CHAPTER_I_DON_RECEIVES_A_JOLT' id='CHAPTER_I_DON_RECEIVES_A_JOLT'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER I</h2> +<h3>DON RECEIVES A JOLT</h3> +</div> +<p>Before beginning to read the interesting document +in front of him, Jonas Barton, senior +member of Barton & Saltonstall, paused to +clean his glasses rather carefully, in order to +gain sufficient time to study for a moment the +tall, good-looking young man who waited indifferently +on the other side of the desk. He had +not seen his late client’s son since the latter had +entered college––a black-haired, black-eyed +lad of seventeen, impulsive in manner and +speech. The intervening four years had tempered +him a good deal. Yet, the Pendleton +characteristics were all there––the square jaw, +the rather large, firm mouth, the thin nose, the +keen eyes. They were all there, but each a +trifle subdued: the square jaw not quite so +square as the father’s, the mouth not quite so +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_2' name='page_2'></a>2</span> +large, the nose so sharp, or the eyes so keen. On +the other hand, there was a certain fineness that +the father had lacked.</p> +<p>In height Don fairly matched his father’s six +feet, although he still lacked the Pendleton +breadth of shoulder.</p> +<p>The son was lean, and his cigarette––a +dilettante variation of honest tobacco-smoking +that had always been a source of irritation to +his father––did not look at all out of place +between his long, thin fingers; in fact, nothing +else would have seemed quite suitable. Barton +was also forced to admit to himself that the +young man, in some miraculous way, managed +to triumph over his rather curious choice of +raiment, based presumably on current styles. +In and of themselves the garments were not +beautiful. From Barton’s point of view, Don’s +straw hat was too large and too high in the +crown. His black-and-white check suit was too +conspicuous and cut close to the figure in too +feminine a fashion. His lavender socks, which +matched a lavender tie, went well enough with +the light stick he carried; but, in Barton’s +opinion, a young man of twenty-two had no +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_3' name='page_3'></a>3</span> +business to carry a light stick. By no stretch +of the imagination could one picture the elder +Pendleton in such garb, even in his jauntiest +days. And yet, as worn by Don, it seemed as +if he could not very well have worn anything +else. Even the mourning-band about his left +arm, instead of adding a somber touch, afforded +an effective bit of contrast. This, however, was +no fault of his. That mourning has artistic +possibilities is a happy fact that has brought +gentle solace to many a widow.</p> +<p>On the whole, Barton could not escape the +deduction that the son reflected the present +rather than the past. Try as he might, it was +difficult for him to connect this young man with +Grandfather Pendleton, shipbuilder of New +Bedford, or with the father who in his youth +commanded the Nancy R. But that was by no +means his duty––as Don faintly suggested +when he uncrossed his knees and hitched forward +impatiently.</p> +<p>“Your father’s will is dated three years ago +last June,” began Barton.</p> +<p>“At the end of my freshman year,” Don +observed.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_4' name='page_4'></a>4</span></div> +<p>Jonas Barton adjusted his spectacles and began +to read. He read slowly and very distinctly, +as if anxious to give full value to each syllable:</p> +<p>“New York City, borough of Manhattan, +State of New York. I, Donald Joshua Pendleton, +being of sound mind and––”</p> +<p>Donald Pendleton, Jr., waved an objection +with his cigarette.</p> +<p>“Can’t you cut out all the legal stuff and +just give me the gist of it? There’s no doubt +about father having been of sound mind and +so forth.”</p> +<p>“It is customary––” began the attorney.</p> +<p>“Well, we’ll break the custom,” Don cut in +sharply.</p> +<p>Barton glanced up. It might have been his +late client speaking; it gave him a start.</p> +<p>“As you wish,” he assented. “Perhaps, however, +I may be allowed to observe that in many +ways your father’s will is peculiar.”</p> +<p>“It wouldn’t be father’s will if it wasn’t +peculiar,” declared Don.</p> +<p>Barton pushed the papers away from him.</p> +<p>“Briefly, then,” he said, “your father leaves +his entire estate to you––in trust.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_5' name='page_5'></a>5</span></div> +<p>Don leaned forward, his stick grasped in his +gloved hands.</p> +<p>“I don’t get that last.”</p> +<p>“In trust,” repeated Barton with emphasis. +“He has honored our firm with the commission +of serving as a board of trustees for carrying out +the terms of the will.”</p> +<p>“You mean to fix my allowance?”</p> +<p>“To carry out the terms of the will, which +are as follows: namely, to turn over to you, +but without power of conveyance, the paternal +domicile on West Sixtieth Street with all its +contents.”</p> +<p>Don frowned.</p> +<p>“Paternal domicile––I can translate that all +right. I suppose you mean the house. But what’s +that line ‘without power of conveyance’?”</p> +<p>“It means that you are at liberty to occupy +the premises, but that you are to have no power +to sell, to rent, or to dispose of the property in +any way whatsoever.”</p> +<p>Don appeared puzzled.</p> +<p>“That’s a bit queer. What do you suppose +Dad thought I wanted of a place that size to +live in?”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_6' name='page_6'></a>6</span></div> +<p>“I think your father was a man of considerable +sentiment.”</p> +<p>“Eh?”</p> +<p>“Sentiment,” Barton repeated. “It was +there you were born, and there your mother +died.”</p> +<p>“Yes, that’s all correct; but––well, go on.”</p> +<p>“The rest of the document, if you insist upon +a digest, consists principally of directions to the +trustees. Briefly, it provides that we invest the +remainder of the property in safe bonds and +apply the interest to meet taxes on the aforesaid +paternal domicile, to retain and pay the wages +of the necessary servants, to furnish fuel and +water, and to maintain the house in proper +repair.”</p> +<p>“Well, go on.”</p> +<p>“In case of your demise––”</p> +<p>“You may skip my demise; I’m not especially +interested in that.”</p> +<p>“Then I think we have covered all the more +important provisions,” Barton concluded.</p> +<p>“All?” exclaimed Don. “What do you think +I’m going to live on?”</p> +<p>Here was the clash for which Barton had +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_7' name='page_7'></a>7</span> +been waiting. His face hardened, and he +shoved back his chair a little.</p> +<p>“I am not able to find any provision in the +will relating to that,” he answered.</p> +<p>“Eh? But what the deuce––”</p> +<p>For a moment Don stared open-mouthed at +the lawyer. Then he reached in his pocket for +his cigarettes, selected one with some deliberation, +and tapped an end upon the case.</p> +<p>“You said Dad had considerable sentiment,” +he observed. “It strikes me he has shown more +humor than sentiment.”</p> +<p>Barton was still aggressive. To tell the truth, +he expected some suggestion as to the possibility +of breaking the will; but if ever he had +drawn a paper all snug and tight, it was the one +in question.</p> +<p>“Damme,” Pendleton, Sr., had said. +“Damme, Barton, if the lad is able to break +the will, I’ll rise in my grave and haunt you the +rest of your days.”</p> +<p>If the boy wished to test the issue, Barton +was ready for him. But the boy’s thoughts +seemed to be on other things.</p> +<p>“I suppose,” mused Pendleton, Jr., “I suppose +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_8' name='page_8'></a>8</span> +it was that freshman scrape that worried +him.”</p> +<p>“I was not informed of that,” replied Barton.</p> +<p>“It made good reading,” the young man confided. +“But, honest, it was not so bad as the +papers made it out. Dad was a good sport +about it, anyhow. He cleared it up and let me +go on.”</p> +<p>“If you will allow me to advance an opinion,––a +strictly personal opinion,––it is that Mr. +Pendleton devised the entire will with nothing +else but your welfare in mind. He had a good +deal of pride, and desired above all things to +have you retain the family home. If I remember +correctly, he said you were the last lineal +descendant.”</p> +<p>Don nodded pleasantly.</p> +<p>“The last. Kind of looks as if he wanted me +to remain the last.”</p> +<p>“On the contrary,” ventured Barton, “I +think he hoped you might marry and––”</p> +<p>“Marry?” broke in Don. “Did you say +<i>marry?</i>”</p> +<p>“I even understood, from a conversation +with your father just before his death, that +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_9' name='page_9'></a>9</span> +you––er––were even then engaged. Am I mistaken?”</p> +<p>“No; that’s true enough. But say––look +here.”</p> +<p>The young man reached in his pocket and +brought forth a handful of crumpled bills and +loose change. He counted it carefully.</p> +<p>“Twelve dollars and sixty-three cents,” he +announced. “What do you think Frances +Stuyvesant will say to that?”</p> +<p>Barton refrained from advancing an opinion.</p> +<p>“What do you think Morton H. Stuyvesant +will say?” demanded Don.</p> +<p>No point of law being involved in the query, +Jonas Barton still refrained.</p> +<p>“What do you think Mrs. Morton H. Stuyvesant +will say, and all the uncles and aunties +and nephews and nieces?”</p> +<p>“Not being their authorized representative, +I am not prepared to answer,” Barton replied. +“However, I think I can tell you what your +father would do under these circumstances.”</p> +<p>“What?” inquired Don.</p> +<p>“He would place all the facts in the case +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_10' name='page_10'></a>10</span> +before the girl, then before her father, and learn +just what they had to say.”</p> +<p>“Wrong. He wouldn’t go beyond the girl,” +answered Don.</p> +<p>He replaced the change in his pocket.</p> +<p>“Ah,” he sighed––“them were the happy +days.”</p> +<p>“If I remember correctly,” continued Jonas +Barton thoughtfully, “twelve dollars and sixty-three +cents was fully as much as your father +possessed when he asked your mother to marry +him. That was just after he lost his ship off +Hatteras.”</p> +<p>“Yes, them were the happy days,” nodded +Don. “But, at that, Dad had his nerve with +him.”</p> +<p>“He did,” answered Barton. “He had his +nerve with him always.”</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_11' name='page_11'></a>11</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_II_IT_BECOMES_NECESSARY_TO_EAT' id='CHAPTER_II_IT_BECOMES_NECESSARY_TO_EAT'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER II</h2> +<h3>IT BECOMES NECESSARY TO EAT</h3> +</div> +<p>In spite of the continued efforts of idealists to +belittle it, there is scarcely a fact of human experience +capable of more universal substantiation +than that in order to live it is necessary to +eat. The corollary is equally true: in order to +eat it is necessary to pay.</p> +<p>Yet until now Pendleton had been in a +position to ignore, if not to refute, the latter +statement. There was probably no detail of his +daily existence calling for less thought or effort +than this matter of dining. Opportunities were +provided on every hand,––at the houses of his +friends, at his club, at innumerable cafés and +hotels,––and all that he was asked to contribute +was an appetite.</p> +<p>It was not until he had exhausted his twelve +dollars and sixty-three cents that Don was in +any position to change his point of view. But +that was very soon. After leaving the office of +Barton & Saltonstall at eleven, he took a taxi to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_12' name='page_12'></a>12</span> +the Harvard Club, which immediately cut down +his capital to ten dollars and thirteen cents. +Here he met friends, Higgins and Watson and +Cabot of his class, and soon he had disposed of +another dollar. They then persuaded him to +walk part way downtown with them. On his +return, he passed a florist’s, and, remembering +that Frances was going that afternoon to a <i>thé +dansant</i>, did the decent thing and sent up a +dozen roses, which cost him five dollars. +Shortly after this he passed a confectioner’s, +and of course had to stop for a box of Frances’s +favorite bonbons, which cost him another +dollar.</p> +<p>Not that he considered the expense in the +least. As long as he was able to reach in his +pocket and produce a bill of sufficient value to +cover the immediate investment, that was +enough. But it is surprising how brief a while +ten dollars will suffice in a leisurely stroll on +Fifth Avenue. Within a block of the confectionery +store two cravats that took his fancy +and a box of cigarettes called for his last bill, +and actually left him with nothing but a few +odd pieces of silver. Even this did not impress +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_13' name='page_13'></a>13</span> +him as significant, because, as it happened, his +wants were for the moment fully satisfied.</p> +<p>It was a clear October day, and, quite unconscious +of the distance, Don continued up the +Avenue to Sixtieth Street––to the house where +he was born. In the last ten years he had been +away a good deal from that house,––four years +at Groton, four at Harvard,––but, even so, the +house had always remained in the background +of his consciousness as a fixed point.</p> +<p>Nora opened the door for him, as she had for +twenty years.</p> +<p>“Are you to be here for dinner, sir?” she +inquired.</p> +<p>“No, Nora,” he answered; “I shall dine out +to-night.”</p> +<p>Nora appeared uneasy.</p> +<p>“The cook, sir, has received a letter––a very +queer sort of letter, sir––from a lawyer gentleman.”</p> +<p>“Eh?”</p> +<p>“He said she was to keep two accounts, sir: +one for the servants’ table and one for the +house.”</p> +<p>“Oh, that’s probably from old Barton.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_14' name='page_14'></a>14</span></div> +<p>“Barton––yes, sir, that was the name. Shall +I bring you the letter, sir?”</p> +<p>“Don’t bother, Nora. It’s all right. He’s +my new bookkeeper.”</p> +<p>“Very well, sir. Then you’ll give orders for +what you want?”</p> +<p>“Yes, Nora.”</p> +<p>In the library an open fire was burning +brightly on the hearth, as always it had been +kept burning for his father. With his hands +behind his back, he stood before it and gazed +around the big room. It seemed curiously +empty with the old man gone. The machinery +of the house as adjusted by him still continued +to run on smoothly. And yet, where at certain +hours he should have been, he was not. It was +uncanny.</p> +<p>It was a little after one; Don determined to +change his clothes and stroll downtown for +luncheon––possibly at Sherry’s. He was always +sure there of running across some one he +knew.</p> +<p>He went to his room and dressed with some +care, and then walked down to Forty-fourth +Street. Before deciding to enter the dining-room, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_15' name='page_15'></a>15</span> +however, he stood at the entrance a moment +to see if there was any one there he recognized. +Jimmy Harndon saw him and rose at +once.</p> +<p>“Hello, Jimmy,” Don greeted him.</p> +<p>“Hello, Don. You came in the nick of time. +Lend me ten, will you?”</p> +<p>“Sure,” answered Don.</p> +<p>He sought his bill-book. It was empty. For +a moment he was confused.</p> +<p>“Oh, never mind,” said Jimmy, perceiving +his embarrassment. “I’ll ’phone Dad to send it +up by messenger. Bit of fool carelessness on my +part. You’ll excuse me?”</p> +<p>Harndon hurried off to the telephone.</p> +<p>Don stared at his empty pocket-book, at the +head waiter, who still stood at the door expectantly, +and then replaced the empty wallet in +his pocket. There was no use waiting here any +longer. He could not dine, if he wished. Never +before in his life had he been confronted by such +a situation. Once or twice he had been in Harndon’s +predicament, but that had meant no more +to him than it meant to Harndon––nothing +but a temporary embarrassment. The difference +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_16' name='page_16'></a>16</span> +now was that Harndon could still telephone +his father and that he could not. Here +was a significant distinction; it was something +he must think over.</p> +<p>Don went on to the Harvard Club. He +passed two or three men he knew in the lobby, +but shook his head at their invitation to join +them. He took a seat by himself before an open +fire in a far corner of the lounge. Then he took +out his bill-book again, and examined it with +some care, in the hope that a bill might have +slipped in among his cards. The search was +without result. Automatically his father’s telephone +number suggested itself, but that number +now was utterly without meaning. A new tenant +already occupied those offices––a tenant +who undoubtedly would report to the police a +modest request to forward to the Harvard Club +by messenger a hundred dollars.</p> +<p>He was beginning to feel hungry––much +hungrier than he would have felt with a pocket +full of money. Of course his credit at the club +was good. He could have gone into the dining-room +and ordered what he wished. But credit +took on a new meaning. Until now it had been +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_17' name='page_17'></a>17</span> +nothing but a trifling convenience, because at +the end of the month he had only to forward +his bill to his father. But that could not be done +any longer.</p> +<p>He could also have gone to any one of a +dozen men of his acquaintance and borrowed +from five to fifty dollars. But it was one thing +to borrow as he had in the past, and another to +borrow in his present circumstances. He had no +right to borrow. The whole basis of his credit +was gone.</p> +<p>The situation was, on the face of it, so absurd +that the longer he thought it over the more +convinced he became that Barton had made +some mistake. He decided to telephone Barton.</p> +<p>It was with a sense of relief that Don found +the name of Barton & Saltonstall still in the +telephone-book. It would not have surprised +him greatly if that too had disappeared. It was +with a still greater sense of relief that he finally +heard Barton’s voice.</p> +<p>“Look here,” he began. “It seems to me +there must be some misunderstanding somewhere. +Do you realize that I’m stony broke?”</p> +<p>“Why, no,” answered Barton. “I thought +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_18' name='page_18'></a>18</span> +you showed me the matter of thirteen dollars +or so.”</p> +<p>“I did; but that’s gone, and all I have now is +the matter of thirteen cents or so.”</p> +<p>“I’m sorry,” answered Barton. “If a small +loan would be of any temporary advantage––”</p> +<p>“Hang it!” cut in Don. “You don’t think +I’m trying to borrow, do you?”</p> +<p>“I beg your pardon. Perhaps you will tell +me, then, just what you do wish.”</p> +<p>“I must eat, mustn’t I?”</p> +<p>“I consider that a fair presumption.”</p> +<p>“Then what the deuce!”</p> +<p>Don evidently expected this ejaculation to be +accepted as a full and conclusive statement. +But, as far as Barton was concerned, it was not. +“Yes?” he queried.</p> +<p>“I say, what the deuce?”</p> +<p>“I don’t understand.”</p> +<p>“What am I going to do?”</p> +<p>“Oh, I see. You mean, I take it, what must +you do in order to provide yourself with funds.”</p> +<p>“Exactly,” growled Don.</p> +<p>“Of course, the usual method is to work,” +suggested Barton.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_19' name='page_19'></a>19</span></div> +<p>“Eh?”</p> +<p>“To find a position with some firm which, in +return for your services, is willing to pay you a +certain fixed sum weekly or monthly. I offer +you the suggestion for what it is worth. You +can think it over.”</p> +<p>“Think it over!” exclaimed Don. “How long +do you think I can think on thirteen cents?”</p> +<p>“If you authorize me to act for you, I have +no doubt something can be arranged.”</p> +<p>“You seem to hold all the cards.”</p> +<p>“I am merely obeying your father’s commands,” +Barton hastened to assure him. “Now, +can you give me any idea what you have in +mind?”</p> +<p>“I’ll do anything except sell books,” Don +answered promptly.</p> +<p>“Very well,” concluded Barton. “I’ll advise +you by mail as soon as anything develops.”</p> +<p>“Thanks.”</p> +<p>“In the mean while, if you will accept a +loan––”</p> +<p>“Thanks again,” answered Don; “but I’ll go +hungry first.” He hung up the receiver and +went back to the lounge.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_20' name='page_20'></a>20</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_III_THE_QUEEN_WAS_IN_THE_PARLOR' id='CHAPTER_III_THE_QUEEN_WAS_IN_THE_PARLOR'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER III</h2> +<h3>THE QUEEN WAS IN THE PARLOR</h3> +</div> +<p>Stuyvesant was proud of his daughter––proud +of her beauty, proud of her ability to +dress, proud of her ability to spend money. She +gave him about the only excuse he now had for +continuing to hold his seat on the Stock Exchange. +The girl was tall and dark and slender, +and had an instinct for clothes that permitted +her to follow the vagaries of fashion to their +extremes with the assurance of a Parisienne, +plus a certain Stuyvesant daring that was +American. At dinner that night she wore, for +Don’s benefit, a new French gown that made +even him catch his breath. It was beautiful, +but without her it would not have been beautiful. +Undoubtedly its designer took that into +account when he designed the gown.</p> +<p>The dinner was in every way a success, and a +credit to the Stuyvesant chef––who, however, +it must be said, seldom had the advantage of +catering to a guest that had not lunched. Stuyvesant +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_21' name='page_21'></a>21</span> +was in a good humor, Mrs. Stuyvesant +pleasantly negative as usual, and Frances radiant. +Early in the evening Stuyvesant went off +to his club for a game of bridge, and Mrs. +Stuyvesant excused herself to write notes.</p> +<p>“I met Reggie Howland at the tea this afternoon,” +said Frances. “He was very nice to +me.”</p> +<p>“Why shouldn’t he be?” inquired Don.</p> +<p>“I rather thought you would come. Really, +when one goes to all the bother of allowing one’s +self to be engaged, the least one expects is a +certain amount of attention from one’s fiancée.”</p> +<p>She was standing by the piano, and he went +to her side and took her hand––the hand wearing +the solitaire that had been his mother’s.</p> +<p>“You’re right,” he nodded; “but I was all +tied up with business this afternoon.”</p> +<p>She raised her dark brows a trifle.</p> +<p>“Business?”</p> +<p>“Lots of it,” he nodded. “Come over here +and sit down; I want to tell you about it.”</p> +<p>He led her to a chair before the open fire. He +himself continued to stand with his back to +the flames. He was not serious. The situation +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_22' name='page_22'></a>22</span> +struck him now as even funnier than it had in +Barton’s office. He had in his pocket just thirteen +cents, and yet here he was in Stuyvesant’s +house, engaged to Stuyvesant’s daughter.</p> +<p>“It seems,” he began––“it seems that Dad +would have his little joke before he died.”</p> +<p>“Yes?” she responded indifferently. She was +bored by business of any sort.</p> +<p>“I had a talk to-day with Barton––his +lawyer. Queer old codger, Barton. Seems he’s +been made my guardian. Dad left him to me in +his will. He left me Barton, the house, and +twelve dollars and sixty-three cents.”</p> +<p>“Yes, Don.”</p> +<p>She did not quite understand why he was +going into details. They did not seem to concern +her, even as his fiancée.</p> +<p>“Of that patrimony I now have thirteen +cents left,” Don continued. “See, here it is.”</p> +<p>He removed from his pocket two nickels and +three coppers.</p> +<p>“It doesn’t look like much, does it?”</p> +<p>“Oh, Don,” she laughed, “do be serious!”</p> +<p>“I am serious,” he assured her. “I’ve been +serious ever since I went to Sherry’s for lunch, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_23' name='page_23'></a>23</span> +and found I did not have enough for even a club +sandwich.”</p> +<p>“But, Don!” she gasped.</p> +<p>“It’s a fact. I had to leave.”</p> +<p>“Then where <i>did</i> you lunch?”</p> +<p>“I didn’t lunch.”</p> +<p>“You mean you did not have enough change +to buy something to eat?”</p> +<p>“I had thirteen cents. You can’t buy anything +with that, can you?”</p> +<p>“I––I don’t know.”</p> +<p>Suddenly she remembered how, once on her +way home from Chicago, she lost her purse and +did not have sufficient change left even to wire +her father to meet her. She was forced to walk +from the station to the house. The experience +had always been like a nightmare to her. She +rose and stood before him.</p> +<p>“But, Don––what are you going to do?”</p> +<p>“I telephoned Barton, and he suggested I +take some sort of position with a business house. +He’s going to find something for me. I’m not +worrying about that; but what I want to know +is what I ought to do about you.”</p> +<p>“I don’t understand, Don.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_24' name='page_24'></a>24</span></div> +<p>“I mean about our engagement.”</p> +<p>She looked puzzled.</p> +<p>“I’m afraid I’m very stupid.”</p> +<p>“We can’t be married on thirteen cents, can +we?”</p> +<p>“But we needn’t be married until you have +more, need we?”</p> +<p>“That’s so. And you’re willing to wait?”</p> +<p>“You know I’ve told you I didn’t wish to +be married before spring, anyway. I think it’s +much pleasanter staying just as we are.”</p> +<p>“We can’t be engaged all our lives,” he +protested.</p> +<p>“We can be engaged as long as we wish, +can’t we?”</p> +<p>“I want to marry you as soon as I can.”</p> +<p>Her eyes brightened and she placed a soft +hand upon his arm.</p> +<p>“That’s nice of you, Don,” she said. “But +you don’t know what a frightfully expensive +burden I’ll be as a wife.”</p> +<p>“If I earned, to start with, say fifty dollars a +week––would you marry me on that?”</p> +<p>“If I did, what would we live on?” she +inquired.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_25' name='page_25'></a>25</span></div> +<p>“Well, I have the house. That’s provided +for––all except the table.”</p> +<p>“But if I spent the fifty dollars for a new hat, +then what would we have left for provisions?”</p> +<p>“You mustn’t spend it all on a new hat,” he +warned.</p> +<p>“Then, there are gowns and––oh, lots of +things you don’t know anything about.”</p> +<p>“Couldn’t you get along with a little less?”</p> +<p>She thought a moment.</p> +<p>“I don’t see how,” she decided. “I never get +anything I don’t want.”</p> +<p>“That’s something,” he nodded approvingly. +“Then you think I must earn more than +fifty a week?”</p> +<p>“I only know that Dad gives me an allowance +of ten thousand a year, and there’s never +anything left,” she answered.</p> +<p>“Ten thousand a year!” he exclaimed.</p> +<p>“Everything is so expensive to-day, Don. +All this talk sounds frightfully vulgar, but––there’s +no use pretending, is there?”</p> +<p>“Not a bit,” he answered. “If ten thousand +a year is what you need, ten thousand a year +is what I must earn.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_26' name='page_26'></a>26</span></div> +<p>“I don’t believe it’s very hard, because Dad +does it so easily,” she declared.</p> +<p>“I’ll get it,” he nodded confidently. “And, +now that it’s all settled, let’s forget it. Come +over to the piano and sing for me.”</p> +<p>He sat down before the keys and played her +accompaniments, selecting his own songs. +They ran through some of the latest opera successes, +and then swung off to the simpler and +older things. It was after “Annie Laurie” that +he rose and looked deep into her eyes.</p> +<p>“I’ll get it for you,” he said soberly.</p> +<p>“Oh, Don!” she whispered. “Sometimes +nothing seems important but just you.”</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_27' name='page_27'></a>27</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_IV_CONCERNING_SANDWICHES' id='CHAPTER_IV_CONCERNING_SANDWICHES'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER IV</h2> +<h3>CONCERNING SANDWICHES</h3> +</div> +<p>The arrangement that Barton made for his +late client’s son was to enter the banking house +of Carter, Rand & Seagraves, on a salary of +twelve hundred dollars a year. Don found the +letter at the Harvard Club the next morning, +and immediately telephoned Barton.</p> +<p>“Look here!” he exclaimed. “I appreciate +what you’ve tried to do and all that, but what +in thunder good is twelve hundred dollars a +year?”</p> +<p>“It is at least twelve hundred more than you +have now,” suggested Barton.</p> +<p>“But how can I live on it?”</p> +<p>“You must remember you have the house––”</p> +<p>“Hang the house,” Don interrupted. “I +must eat and smoke and buy clothes, mustn’t +I? Besides, there’s Frances. She needs ten +thousand a year.”</p> +<p>“I have no doubt but that, in time, a man of +your ability––”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_28' name='page_28'></a>28</span></div> +<p>“How long a time?”</p> +<p>“As to that I am not prepared to give an +opinion,” replied Barton.</p> +<p>“Because it isn’t when I’m eighty that I +want it.”</p> +<p>“I should say the matter was entirely in your +own hands. This at least offers you an opening, +and I advise you to accept it. However, you +must decide for yourself; and if at any later date +I may be of service––”</p> +<p>Don returned to the lounge to think the +matter over. It was ten o’clock and he had not +yet breakfasted. As he had neglected to send +any provisions to the house, Nora, acting upon +his orders of the day before, had not prepared +anything for him––there was nothing to prepare.</p> +<p>However, whether he ate breakfast or not +was a detail. That is to say, it was a detail when +he left the house; but now, after the brisk walk +to the club in the snapping cold air, it had +grown in importance. Watson, on his way into +the dining-room, passed him.</p> +<p>“Join me?” he asked, waving a greeting +with the morning paper.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_29' name='page_29'></a>29</span></div> +<p>“Thanks,” answered Don. “Guess I’ll wait +a bit.”</p> +<p>Watson went on.</p> +<p>Don returned to a consideration of Barton’s +proposal. He was forced to admit that the old +lawyer had an irritating knack of ignoring all +incidental issues and stripping a problem to a +statement of irrefutable fact. It was undeniable, +for example, that what Don might desire in the +way of salary did not affect the truth of Barton’s +contention that twelve hundred dollars +was a great deal more than nothing. With a +roof over his head assured him, it was possible +that he might, with economy, be able at least to +keep alive on this salary. That, of course, was +a matter to be considered. As for Frances, she +was at present well provided for and need not +be in the slightest affected by the smallness of +his income. Then, there was the possibility of +a rapid advance. He had no idea how those +things were arranged, but his limited observation +was to the effect that his friends who went +into business invariably had all the money they +needed, and that most of his older acquaintances––friends +of his father––were presidents +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_30' name='page_30'></a>30</span> +and vice-presidents with unlimited bank accounts. +Considering these facts, Don grew +decidedly optimistic.</p> +<p>In the mean time his hunger continued to +press him. His body, like a greedy child, demanded +food. Watson came out and, lighting a +fresh cigarette, sank down comfortably into a +chair next him.</p> +<p>“What’s the matter, Don––off your feed?” +he inquired casually.</p> +<p>“Something of the sort,” nodded Don.</p> +<p>“Party last night?”</p> +<p>“No; guess I haven’t been getting exercise +enough.”</p> +<p>He rose. Somehow, Watson bored him this +morning.</p> +<p>“I’m going to take a hike down the Avenue. +S’long.”</p> +<p>Don secured his hat, gloves, and stick, and +started from the club at a brisk clip.</p> +<p>From Forty-fourth Street to the Twenties +was as familiar a path as any in his life. He had +traversed it probably a thousand times. Yet, this +morning it suddenly became almost as strange +as some street in Kansas City or San Francisco.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_31' name='page_31'></a>31</span></div> +<p>There were three reasons for this, any one of +which would have accounted for the phenomenon: +he was on his way to secure a job; he had +in his pocket just thirteen cents; and he was +hungry.</p> +<p>The stores before which he always stopped +for a leisurely inspection of their contents took +on a different air this morning. Quite automatically +he paused before one and another of +them and inspected the day’s display of cravats +and waistcoats. But, with only thirteen cents +in his pocket, a new element entered into his +consideration of these things––the element of +cost. It was at the florist’s that his situation +was brought home to him even more keenly. +Frances liked flowers, and she liked to receive +them from him. Here were roses that looked +as if they had been plucked for her. But they +were behind a big plate-glass window. He +had never noted before that, besides being +transparent, plate-glass was also thick and +hard. And he was hungry. The fact continually +intruded itself.</p> +<p>At last he reached the address that Barton +had given him. “Carter, Rand & Seagraves, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_32' name='page_32'></a>32</span> +Investment Securities,” read the inscription on +the window. He passed through the revolving +doors and entered the office.</p> +<p>A boy in buttons approached and took his +card.</p> +<p>“Mr. Carter, Mr. Rand, or Mr. Seagraves,” +said Don.</p> +<p>The boy was soon back.</p> +<p>“Mr. Farnsworth will see you in a few +minutes,” he reported.</p> +<p>“Farnsworth?” inquired Don.</p> +<p>“He’s the gent what sees every one,” explained +the boy. “Ticker’s over there.”</p> +<p>He pointed to a small machine upon a stand, +which was slowly unfurling from its mouth a +long strip of paper such as prestidigitators produce +from silk hats. Don crossed to it, and +studied the strip with interest. It was spattered +with cryptic letters and figures, much like those +he had learned to use indifferently well in a +freshman course in chemistry. The only ones he +recalled just then were +H<sub>2</sub>O and CO<sub>2</sub>, +and he amused himself by watching to see if they +turned up.</p> +<p>“Mr. Pendleton?”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_33' name='page_33'></a>33</span></div> +<p>Don turned to find a middle-aged gentleman +standing before him with outstretched hand.</p> +<p>“Mr. Barton wrote to us about you,” Farnsworth +continued briskly. “I believe he said you +had no business experience.”</p> +<p>“No,” admitted Don.</p> +<p>“Harvard man?”</p> +<p>Don named his class.</p> +<p>“Your father was well known to us. We are +willing to take you on for a few months, if you +wish to try the work. Of course, until you learn +something of the business you won’t be of much +value; but if you’d like to start at––say +twenty-five dollars a week––why, we’d be +glad to have you.”</p> +<p>At the beginning Don had a vague notion of +estimating his value at considerably more; but +Mr. Farnsworth was so decided, it did not seem +worth while. At that moment, also, he was +reminded again that he had not yet breakfasted.</p> +<p>“Thanks,” he replied. “When shall I begin?”</p> +<p>“Whenever you wish. If you haven’t anything +on to-day, you might come in now, meet +some of the men, and get your bearings.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_34' name='page_34'></a>34</span></div> +<p>“All right,” assented Don.</p> +<p>Within the next five minutes Farnsworth had +introduced him to Blake and Manson and +Wheaton and Powers and Jennings and Chandler. +Also to Miss Winthrop, a very busy stenographer. +Then he left him in a chair by Powers’s +desk. Powers was dictating to Miss Winthrop, +and Don became engrossed in watching the +nimbleness of her fingers.</p> +<p>At the end of his dictation, Powers excused +himself and went out, leaving Don alone with +Miss Winthrop. For a moment he felt a bit uncomfortable; +he was not quite sure what the +etiquette of a business office demanded in a situation +of this sort. Soon, however, he realized +that the question was solving itself by the fact +that Miss Winthrop was apparently oblivious +to his presence. If he figured in her consciousness +any more than one of the office chairs, she +gave no indication of it. She was transcribing +from her notebook to the typewriter, and her +fingers moved with marvelous dexterity and +sureness. There was a sureness about every +other movement, as when she slipped in a new +sheet of paper or addressed an envelope or +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_35' name='page_35'></a>35</span> +raised her head. There was a sureness in her +eyes. He found himself quite unexpectedly staring +into them once, and they didn’t waver, +although he was not quite certain, even then, +that they saw him. They were brown eyes, +honest and direct, above a good nose and a +mouth that, while retaining its girlish mobility, +also revealed an unexpected trace of almost +manlike firmness. It was a face that interested +him, but, before he was able to determine in +just what way, she finished her last letter +and, rising abruptly, disappeared into a rear +room. Presently she emerged, wearing a hat +and coat.</p> +<p>It was, on the whole, a very becoming hat and +a very becoming coat, though they would not +have suited at all the critical taste of Frances +Stuyvesant. But they had not been designed +for that purpose.</p> +<p>Miss Winthrop paused to readjust a pin and +the angle of her hat. Then she took a swift +glance about the office.</p> +<p>“I guess the boys must have gone,” she said +to Don. “This is the lunch hour.”</p> +<p>Don rose.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_36' name='page_36'></a>36</span></div> +<p>“Thank you for letting me know,” he replied +cordially.</p> +<p>“Most of them get back at one,” she informed +him.</p> +<p>“Then you think I may go out until then?”</p> +<p>“I don’t see why not. But I’d be back at one +sharp if I were you.”</p> +<p>“Thanks, I will.”</p> +<p>Don gave her an opportunity to go out the +door and disappear before he himself followed. +He had a notion that she could have told him, +had he asked, where in this neighborhood it was +possible to get the most food for the least +money. He had a notion, also, that such a +question would not have shocked her. It was +difficult to say by just what process he reached +this conclusion, but he felt quite sure of it.</p> +<p>Don was now firmly determined to invest a +portion of his thirteen cents in something to eat. +It had no longer become a matter of volition, +but an acute necessity. For twenty minutes he +wandered about rather aimlessly; then, in a +sort of alley, he found a dairy lunch where in +plain figures coffee was offered at five cents a +cup, and egg sandwiches at the same price. The +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_37' name='page_37'></a>37</span> +place was well filled, but he was fortunate in +slipping into a chair against the wall just as a +man was slipping out. It was a chair where one +broad arm served as a table. Next to him sat +a young woman in a black hat, munching a +chocolate éclair. She looked up as he sat +down, and frowned. Don rose at once.</p> +<p>“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t know you +were here. Honest I didn’t.”</p> +<p>“Well, it’s a public lunch, isn’t it?” she +inquired. “I’m almost through.”</p> +<p>“Then you don’t mind if I stay?”</p> +<p>“It’s no business of mine,” she said curtly.</p> +<p>“But I don’t want you to think I––I’m +intruding.”</p> +<p>She glanced at him again.</p> +<p>“Let’s forget it,” she decided. “But you +might sit there all day and you wouldn’t get +anything to eat.”</p> +<p>He looked around, uncertain as to just what +she meant.</p> +<p>“You go to the counter, pick out what you +want, and bring it back here,” she explained. +“I’ll hold your seat for you.”</p> +<p>Don made his way into the crowd at the rear. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_38' name='page_38'></a>38</span> +At the counter he found he had for ten cents a +wide choice; but her éclair had looked so good +he selected one of those and a cup of coffee. In +returning he lost a portion of the coffee, but he +brought the éclair through safely. He deposited +it on the arm of the chair and sat down. In spite +of his utmost effort at self-control, that éclair +made just four mouthfuls. It seemed to him +that he had no more than picked up his fork +than it was gone. However, he still had his +coffee, and he settled back to enjoy that in a +more temperate fashion.</p> +<p>Without apparently taking the slightest interest +in him, Miss Winthrop observed the +rapidity with which he concluded his lunch. +She knew something about being hungry, and +if she was any judge that tidbit produced no +more impression upon this six-foot man than a +peanut on an elephant.</p> +<p>“That all you’re going to eat?” she demanded.</p> +<p>Don was startled. The question was both +unexpected and pointed. He met her eyes––brown +eyes and very direct. The conventional +explanation that he had ready about not caring +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_39' name='page_39'></a>39</span> +for much in the middle of the day seemed +scarcely worth while.</p> +<p>“Yes,” he answered.</p> +<p>“Broke?” she inquired.</p> +<p>He nodded.</p> +<p>“Then you ought to have had an egg sandwich +instead of one of those things,” she informed +him.</p> +<p>“But the one you had looked so good,” he +smiled.</p> +<p>“I had an egg sandwich to start with; this +was dessert.”</p> +<p>“I didn’t know,” he apologized.</p> +<p>“You ought to get one now. You won’t last +until night on just that.”</p> +<p>“How much are they?” he inquired.</p> +<p>“A nickel.”</p> +<p>“Then I guess I won’t have one.”</p> +<p>“Haven’t you five cents?” she cross-examined.</p> +<p>“Only three cents,” he answered.</p> +<p>“And you begin work to-day?”</p> +<p>“Yes.”</p> +<p>“It’s only Tuesday, and you won’t get paid +until Saturday.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_40' name='page_40'></a>40</span></div> +<p>“So?”</p> +<p>“Do you expect to make that éclair go until +then?”</p> +<p>“I hadn’t thought much about it,” he answered +uneasily.</p> +<p>“You don’t look as if you would,” she said. +“You are new to this, aren’t you?”</p> +<p>“Yes.”</p> +<p>He did not resent her questioning; and it did +not occur to him to give her an evasive reply.</p> +<p>“Just out of college?”</p> +<p>“Last fall.”</p> +<p>“What you been doing since then?”</p> +<p>“Why, nothing,” he admitted. “You see, +my father died only last month, and––”</p> +<p>“Oh, I see,” she said more gently. “That’s +hard luck.”</p> +<p>“It makes a good deal of a difference,” he +said.</p> +<p>“I know.”</p> +<p>It had made a difference in her life when her +father died.</p> +<p>She turned to her éclair; but, as she was raising +the fork to her lips, she caught his eyes and +put it down again.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_41' name='page_41'></a>41</span></div> +<p>“Look here,” she said; “you must eat something. +You can’t get along without food. I’ve +tried it.”</p> +<p>“You!” he exclaimed.</p> +<p>“Indeed, yes.”</p> +<p>“Dieting?”</p> +<p>“Hardly,” she replied grimly.</p> +<p>He had heard of men going perforce without +food, but he did not remember ever having +heard of a woman in that predicament. Certainly +he had never before met one.</p> +<p>“You mean that you’ve gone broke, too?”</p> +<p>“Why, certainly,” she answered. “The firm +I was with first went broke, and it was a couple +of months before I found another position. +But that’s over now. What I want to know is +what <i>you’re</i> going to do until Saturday.”</p> +<p>“Oh, I’ll worry along,” he answered confidently.</p> +<p>She shook her head.</p> +<p>“Worry won’t carry you along.”</p> +<p>She hesitated a moment, and then said +impulsively:––</p> +<p>“Now, look here––don’t get peeved at what +I’m going to say, will you?”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_42' name='page_42'></a>42</span></div> +<p>“I don’t believe it’s possible to get peeved +with you,” he declared.</p> +<p>She frowned.</p> +<p>“Well, let it go at that. What I want to do is +to lend you a couple of dollars until Saturday. +It isn’t much, but––”</p> +<p>Don caught his breath. “You––”</p> +<p>She did not give him time to finish. From +somewhere she produced a two-dollar bill and +slipped it into his hand.</p> +<p>“Take this and get an egg sandwich right +now.”</p> +<p>“But look here––”</p> +<p>“Don’t talk. Go get a sandwich.”</p> +<p>He seemed to have no alternative; but when +he came back with it she had disappeared.</p> +<p>He sat down, but he could not understand +why she should have gone like that. He missed +her––missed her more than he would have +thought possible, considering that he had met +her only some two hours before. Without her +this place seemed empty and foreign. Without +her he felt uneasy here. He hurried through his +sandwich and went out––anxious to get back +to her.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_43' name='page_43'></a>43</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_V_BUSINESS' id='CHAPTER_V_BUSINESS'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER V</h2> +<h3>BUSINESS</h3> +</div> +<p>When Don came back to the office he found +Miss Winthrop again at her typewriter, but she +did not even glance up as he took his former +place at Powers’s desk. If this was not particularly +flattering, it at least gave him the privilege +of watching her. But it was rather curious that +he found in this enough to hold his attention for +half an hour. It is doubtful whether he could +have watched Frances herself for so long a time +without being bored.</p> +<p>It was the touch of seriousness about the +girl’s eyes and mouth that now set him to wondering––a +seriousness that he had sometimes +noted in the faces of men who had seen much +of life.</p> +<p>Life––that was the keynote. He felt that +she had been in touch with life, and had got the +better of it: that there had been drama in her +past, born of contact with men and women. +She had been dealing with such problems as securing +food––and his experience of the last +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_44' name='page_44'></a>44</span> +twenty-four hours had hinted at how dramatic +that may be; with securing lodgings for the +night; with the problem of earning not more +money but enough money to keep her alive. +All this had left its mark, not in ugliness, but +in a certain seriousness that made him keen +to know about her. Here was a girl who was +not especially concerned with operas, with +books, with the drama, but with the stuff of +which those things are made.</p> +<p>Miss Winthrop removed from her typewriter +the final page of the long letter she had finished +and rapidly went over it for errors. She found +none. But, as she gathered her papers together +before taking them into the private office of Mr. +Farnsworth, she spoke. She spoke without even +then glancing at Don––as if voicing a thought +to herself.</p> +<p>“Believe me,” she said, “they are not going +to pay you for sitting there and watching me.”</p> +<p>Don felt the color spring to his cheeks.</p> +<p>“I beg your pardon,” he apologized.</p> +<p>“It doesn’t bother me any,” she continued, +as she rose. “Only there isn’t any money for +the firm in that sort of thing.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_45' name='page_45'></a>45</span></div> +<p>“But there doesn’t seem to be anything +around here for me to do.”</p> +<p>“Then make something,” she concluded, as +she moved away.</p> +<p>Blake, to whom he had been introduced, was +sitting at his desk reading an early edition of an +evening paper. Spurred on by her admonition, +he strolled over there. Blake glanced up with a +nod.</p> +<p>“How you making it?” he inquired.</p> +<p>“There doesn’t seem to be much for me to +do,” said Don. “Can you suggest anything?”</p> +<p>“Farnsworth will dig up enough for you later +on. I wouldn’t worry about that.”</p> +<p>“But I don’t know anything about the +game.”</p> +<p>“You’ll pick it up. Did I understand Farnsworth +to say you were Harvard?”</p> +<p>“Yes.”</p> +<p>“I’m Princeton. Say, what sort of a football +team have you this year?”</p> +<p>Don knew football. He had played right end +on the second team. He also knew Princeton, +and if the information he gave Blake about the +team ever went back to New Jersey it did not +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_46' name='page_46'></a>46</span> +do the coaching staff there any good. However, +it furnished a subject for a pleasant half hour’s +conversation. Then Blake went out, and Don +returned to his former place back of Powers’s +desk.</p> +<p>“I’ll bet you didn’t get much out of him,” +observed Miss Winthrop, without interrupting +the click of her machine.</p> +<p>“He seems rather a decent sort,” answered +Don.</p> +<p>“Perhaps he is,” she returned.</p> +<p>“He’s a Princeton man,” Don informed her.</p> +<p>“He’s Percy A. Blake,” she declared––as if +that were a fact of considerably more importance.</p> +<p>He waited to see if she was ready to volunteer +any further information, but apparently +she considered this sufficient.</p> +<p>At that point Farnsworth came out and took +a look about the office. His eyes fell upon Don, +and he crossed the room.</p> +<p>He handed Don a package.</p> +<p>“I wish you would deliver these to Mr. +Hayden, of Hayden & Wigglesworth,” he requested.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_47' name='page_47'></a>47</span></div> +<p>Farnsworth returned to his office, leaving +Don staring helplessly at the package in his +hands.</p> +<p>“For Heaven’s sake, get busy!” exclaimed +Miss Winthrop.</p> +<p>“But where can I find Mr. Hayden?” +inquired Don.</p> +<p>“Get out of the office and look up the firm in +a directory,” she returned sharply. “But hustle +out of here just as if you did know.”</p> +<p>Don seized his hat and obeyed. He found +himself on the street, quite as ignorant of where +to find a directory as he was of where to find +Mr. Hayden, of Hayden & Wigglesworth. But +in rounding a corner––still at full speed––he +ran into a messenger boy.</p> +<p>“Take me to the office of Hayden & Wigglesworth +and there’s a quarter in it for you,” he +offered.</p> +<p>“I’m on,” nodded the boy.</p> +<p>The office was less than a five minutes’ walk +away. In another two minutes Don had left +his package with Mr. Hayden’s clerk and was +back again in his own office.</p> +<p>“Snappy work,” Miss Winthrop +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_48' name='page_48'></a>48</span> +complimented him. “The closing prices must be out +by now. You’d better look them over.”</p> +<p>“Closing prices of what?” he inquired.</p> +<p>“The market, of course. Ask Eddie––the +boy at the ticker. He’ll give you a sheet.”</p> +<p>So Don went over and asked Eddie, and was +handed a list of closing quotations––which, for +all he was concerned, might have been football +signals. However, he sat down and looked them +over, and continued to look them over until +Farnsworth passed him on his way home.</p> +<p>“You may as well go now,” Farnsworth +said. “You’ll be here at nine to-morrow?”</p> +<p>“Nine to-morrow,” nodded Don.</p> +<p>He returned to Miss Winthrop’s desk.</p> +<p>“He says I may go now,” he reported.</p> +<p>“Then I’d go,” she advised.</p> +<p>“But I––I want to thank you.”</p> +<p>“For Heaven’s sake, don’t!” she exploded. +“I’m busy.”</p> +<p>“Good-night.”</p> +<p>“Good-night.”</p> +<p>He took the Subway back to the Grand +Central, and walked from there to the club. +Here he found a message from Frances:––</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_49' name='page_49'></a>49</span></div> +<p>Dad sent up a box for the theater to-night. +Will you come to dinner and go with us?</p> +<p>When Don, after dressing, left his house for +the Stuyvesants’ that evening, it was with a +curious sense of self-importance. He now had +the privilege of announcing to his friends that +he was in business in New York––in the banking +business––with Carter, Rand & Seagraves, +as a matter of fact. He walked with a freer +stride and swung his stick with a jauntier air +than he had yesterday.</p> +<p>He was full of this when, a few minutes before +dinner, Frances swept down the stairs.</p> +<p>“I’m glad you could come, Don,” she said. +“But where in the world have you been all +day?”</p> +<p>“Downtown,” he answered. “I’m with +Carter, Rand & Seagraves now.”</p> +<p>He made the announcement with considerable +pride.</p> +<p>“Poor Don!” she murmured. “But, if you’re +going to do that sort of thing, I suppose you +might as well be with them as any one. I wonder +if that Seagraves is Dolly Seagraves’s +father.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_50' name='page_50'></a>50</span></div> +<p>For a second he was disappointed––he had +expected more enthusiasm from her.</p> +<p>“I haven’t met the families of the firm +yet,” he answered.</p> +<p>“I thought you knew Dolly. I’ll ask her up +for my next afternoon, to meet you.”</p> +<p>“But I can’t come in the afternoon, Frances.”</p> +<p>“How stupid! You’re to be downtown all +day?”</p> +<p>“From nine to three or later.”</p> +<p>“I’m not sure I’m going to like that.”</p> +<p>“Then you’ll have to speak to Farnsworth,” +he laughed.</p> +<p>“Farnsworth?”</p> +<p>“He’s the manager.”</p> +<p>“I imagine he’s very disagreeable. Oh, Don, +please hurry and make your fortune and have +it over with!”</p> +<p>“You ought to give me more than one day, +anyhow.”</p> +<p>“I’ll give you till June,” she smiled. “I really +got sort of homesick for you to-day, Don.”</p> +<p>“Honest?”</p> +<p>“Honest, Don. I’ve no business to tell you +such a secret, but it’s true.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_51' name='page_51'></a>51</span></div> +<p>“I’m glad you told me,” he answered +soberly. “What have you been doing all +day?”</p> +<p>“I had a stupid morning at the tailor’s, and a +stupid bridge in the afternoon at the Martins’. +Oh, I lost a disgraceful lot of money.”</p> +<p>“How much?” he inquired.</p> +<p>She shook her head. “I won’t tell; but that’s +why I told Dad he must take me to see something +cheerful this evening.”</p> +<p>“Tough luck,” he sympathized.</p> +<p>They went in to dinner. Afterward the +Stuyvesant car took them all to a vaudeville +house, and there, from the rear of a box, Don +watched with indifferent interest the usual +vaudeville turns. To tell the truth, he would +have been better satisfied to have sat at the +piano at home and had Frances sing to him. +There were many things he had wished to talk +over with her. He had not told her about the +other men he had met, his adventure on his first +business assignment, his search for a place to +lunch, or––Miss Winthrop. Until that moment +he had not thought of her himself.</p> +<p>A singing team made their appearance and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_52' name='page_52'></a>52</span> +began to sing sentimental ballads concerned +with apple blossoms in Normandy. Don’s +thoughts went back, strangely enough, to the +white-tiled restaurant in the alley. He smiled +as he contrived a possible title for a popular +song of this same nature. “The White-Tiled +Restaurant in the Alley” it might read, and it +might have something to do with “Sally.” Perhaps +Miss Winthrop’s first name was Sally––it +fitted her well enough. She had been funny +about that chocolate éclair. And she had lent +him two dollars. Unusual incident, that! He +wondered where she was to-night––where she +went after she left the office at night. Perhaps +she was here. He leaned forward to look at the +faces of people in the audience. Then the singing +stopped, and a group of Japanese acrobats +occupied the stage.</p> +<p>Frances turned, suppressing a yawn.</p> +<p>“I suppose one of them will hang by his +teeth in a minute,” she observed. “I wish he +wouldn’t. It makes me ache.”</p> +<p>“It is always possible to leave,” he suggested.</p> +<p>“But Mother so enjoys the pictures.”</p> +<p>“Then, by all means, let’s stay.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_53' name='page_53'></a>53</span></div> +<p>“They always put them at the end. Oh, +dear me, I don’t think I shall ever come +again.”</p> +<p>“I enjoyed the singing,” he confessed.</p> +<p>“Oh, Don, it was horrible!”</p> +<p>“Still, that song about the restaurant in the +alley––”</p> +<p>“The <i>what?</i>” she exclaimed.</p> +<p>“Wasn’t it that or was it apple blossoms? +Anyhow, it was good.”</p> +<p>“Of course there’s no great difference between +restaurants in alleys and apple blossoms +in Normandy!” she commented.</p> +<p>“Not so much as you’d think,” he smiled.</p> +<p>It was eleven before they were back at the +house. Then Stuyvesant wanted a rarebit and +Frances made it, so that it was after one before +Don reached his own home.</p> +<p>Not until Nora, in obedience to a note he had +left downstairs for her, called him at seven-thirty +the next morning did Don realize he had +kept rather late hours for a business man. Bit +by bit, the events of yesterday came back to +him; and in the midst of it, quite the central +figure, stood Miss Winthrop. It was as if she +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_54' name='page_54'></a>54</span> +were warning him not to be late. He jumped +from bed.</p> +<p>But, even at that, it was a quarter-past eight +before he came downstairs. Nora was anxiously +waiting for him.</p> +<p>“You did not order breakfast, sir,” she +reminded him.</p> +<p>“Why, that’s so,” he admitted.</p> +<p>“Shall I prepare it for you now?”</p> +<p>“Never mind. I haven’t time to wait, anyway. +You see, I must be downtown at nine. +I’m in business, Nora.”</p> +<p>“Yes, sir; but you should eat your breakfast, +sir.”</p> +<p>He shook his head. “I think I’ll try going +without breakfast this week. Besides, I didn’t +send up any provisions.”</p> +<p>Nora appeared uneasy. She did not wish to +be bold, and yet she did not wish her late master’s +son to go downtown hungry.</p> +<p>“An egg and a bit of toast, sir? I’m sure the +cook could spare that.”</p> +<p>“Out of her own breakfast?”</p> +<p>“I––I beg your pardon, sir,” stammered +Nora; “but it’s all part of the house, isn’t it?”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_55' name='page_55'></a>55</span></div> +<p>“No,” he answered firmly. “We must play +the game fair, Nora.”</p> +<p>“And dinner, sir?”</p> +<p>“Dinner? Let’s not worry about that as +early in the morning as this.”</p> +<p>He started to leave, but at the door turned +again.</p> +<p>“If you should want me during the day, +you’ll find me at my office with Carter, Rand & +Seagraves. Better write that down.”</p> +<p>“I will, sir.”</p> +<p>“Good-day, Nora.”</p> +<p>Don took the Subway this morning, in company +with several hundred thousand others for +whom this was as much a routine part of their +daily lives as the putting on of a hat. He had +seen all these people coming and going often +enough before, but never before had he felt +himself as coming and going with them. Now +he was one of them. He did not resent it. In +fact, he felt a certain excitement about it. But +it was new––almost foreign.</p> +<p>It was with some difficulty that he found his +way from the station to his office. This so delayed +him that he was twenty minutes late. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_56' name='page_56'></a>56</span> +Miss Winthrop, who was hard at work when he +entered, paused a second to glance at the watch +pinned to her dress.</p> +<p>“I’m only twenty minutes late,” he apologized +to her.</p> +<p>“A good many things can happen around +Wall Street in twenty minutes,” she answered.</p> +<p>“I guess I’ll have to leave the house a little +earlier.”</p> +<p>“I’d do something to get here on time,” she +advised. “Out late last night?”</p> +<p>“Not very. I was in bed a little after one.”</p> +<p>“I thought so.”</p> +<p>“Why?”</p> +<p>“You look it.”</p> +<p>She brought the conversation to an abrupt +end by resuming her work.</p> +<p>He wanted to ask her in just what way he +looked it. He felt a bit hollow; but that was because +he hadn’t breakfasted. His eyes, too, +were still a little heavy; but that was the result, +not of getting to bed late, but of getting up too +early.</p> +<p>She, on the other hand, appeared fresher +than she had yesterday at noon. Her eyes were +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_57' name='page_57'></a>57</span> +brighter and there was more color in her cheeks. +Don had never seen much of women in the forenoon. +As far as he was concerned, Frances did +not exist before luncheon. But what experience +he had led him to believe that Miss Winthrop +was an exception––that most women continued +to freshen toward night and were at their +best at dinner-time.</p> +<p>“Mr. Pendleton.” It was Eddie. “Mr. +Farnsworth wants to see you in his office.”</p> +<p>Farnsworth handed Don a collection of circulars +describing some of the securities the firm +was offering.</p> +<p>“Better familiarize yourself with these,” he +said briefly. “If there is anything in them you +don’t understand, ask one of the other men.”</p> +<p>That was all. In less than three minutes Don +was back again at Powers’s desk. He glanced +through one of the circulars, which had to do +with a certain electric company offering gold +bonds at a price to net four and a half. He read +it through once and then read it through again. +It contained a great many figures––figures +running into the millions, whose effect was to +make twenty-five dollars a week shrink into +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_58' name='page_58'></a>58</span> +insignificance. On the whole, it was decidedly +depressing reading––the more so because he +did not understand it.</p> +<p>He wondered what Miss Winthrop did when +she was tired, where she lived and how she +lived, if she played bridge, if she spent her summers +abroad, who her parents were, whether she +was eighteen or twenty-two or -three, and if she +sang. All of which had nothing to do with the +affairs of the company that wished to dispose of +its gold bonds at a price to net four and a half.</p> +<p>At twelve Miss Winthrop rose from her machine +and sought her hat in the rear of the office. +At twelve-five she came back, passed him as if +he had been an empty chair, and went out the +door. At twelve-ten he followed. He made his +way at once to the restaurant in the alley. She +was not in the chair she had occupied yesterday, +but farther back. Happily, the chair next to her +was empty.</p> +<p>“Will you hold this for me?” he asked.</p> +<p>“Better drop your hat in it,” she suggested +rather coldly.</p> +<p>He obeyed the suggestion, and a minute later +returned with a cup of coffee and an egg sandwich. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_59' name='page_59'></a>59</span> +She was gazing indifferently across the +room as he sat down, but he called her attention +to his lunch.</p> +<p>“You see, I got one of these things to-day.”</p> +<p>“So?”</p> +<p>“Do you eat it with a fork or pick it up in +your fingers?” he asked.</p> +<p>She turned involuntarily to see if he was +serious. She could not tell, but it was a fact +he looked perplexed.</p> +<p>“Oh, pick it up in your fingers,” she exclaimed. +“But look here; are you coming here +every day?”</p> +<p>“Sure,” he nodded. “Why not?”</p> +<p>“Because, if you are, I’m going to find another +place.”</p> +<p>“You––what?” he gasped.</p> +<p>“I’m going to find another place.”</p> +<p>The sandwich was halfway to his lips. He +put it down again.</p> +<p>“What have I done?” he demanded.</p> +<p>She was avoiding his eyes.</p> +<p>“Oh, it isn’t you,” she answered. “But if +the office ever found out––”</p> +<p>“Well,” he insisted.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_60' name='page_60'></a>60</span></div> +<p>“It would make a lot of talk, that’s all,” she +concluded quickly. “I can’t afford it.”</p> +<p>“Whom would they talk about?”</p> +<p>“Oh, they wouldn’t talk about you––that’s +sure.”</p> +<p>“They would talk about you?”</p> +<p>“They certainly would.”</p> +<p>“What would they say?”</p> +<p>“You think it over,” she replied. “The thing +you want to remember is that I’m only a stenographer +there, and you––well, if you make +good you’ll be a member of the firm some day.”</p> +<p>“I don’t see what that has to do with where +you eat or where I eat.”</p> +<p>“It hasn’t, as long as we don’t eat at the +same place. Can’t you see that?”</p> +<p>She raised her eyes and met his.</p> +<p>“I see now,” he answered soberly. “They’ll +think I’m getting fresh with you?”</p> +<p>“They’ll think I’m letting you get fresh,” +she answered, lowering her eyes.</p> +<p>“But you don’t think that yourself?”</p> +<p>“I don’t know,” she answered slowly. “I +used to think I could tell; but now––oh, I +don’t know!”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_61' name='page_61'></a>61</span></div> +<p>“But good Heavens! you’ve been a regular +little trump to me. You’ve even lent me the +money to buy my lunches with. Do you think +any man could be so low down––”</p> +<p>“Those things aren’t fit to eat when they’re +cold,” she warned him.</p> +<p>He shoved his plate aside and leaned toward +her. “Do you think––”</p> +<p>“No, no, no!” she exclaimed. “Only, it +isn’t what <i>I</i> think that matters.”</p> +<p>“That’s the only thing in this case that does +matter,” he returned.</p> +<p>“You wait until you know Blake,” she +answered.</p> +<p>“Of course, if any one is to quit here, it is I,” +he said.</p> +<p>“You’d better stay where you are,” she +answered. “I know a lot of other places just +like this.”</p> +<p>“Well, I can find them, can’t I?”</p> +<p>She laughed––a contagious little laugh.</p> +<p>“I’m not so sure,” she replied.</p> +<p>“You don’t think much of my ability, do +you?” he returned, somewhat nettled.</p> +<p>She lifted her eyes at that.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_62' name='page_62'></a>62</span></div> +<p>“If you want to know the truth,” she said, +“I do. And I’ve seen a lot of ’em come and go.”</p> +<p>He reacted curiously to this unexpected +praise. His color heightened and unconsciously +he squared his shoulders.</p> +<p>“Thanks,” he said. “Then you ought to +trust me to be able to find another lunch-place. +Besides, you forget I found this myself. Are +you going to have an éclair to-day?”</p> +<p>She nodded and started to rise.</p> +<p>“Sit still; I’ll get it for you.”</p> +<p>Before she could protest he was halfway to +the counter. She sat back in her chair with an +expression that was half-frown and half-smile.</p> +<p>When he came back she slipped a nickel upon +the arm of his chair.</p> +<p>“What’s this for?” he demanded.</p> +<p>“For the éclair, of course.”</p> +<p>“You––you needn’t have done that.”</p> +<p>“I’ll pay my own way, thank you,” she +answered, her face hardening a little.</p> +<p>“Now you’re offended again?”</p> +<p>“No; only––oh, can’t you see we––I must +find another place?”</p> +<p>“No, I don’t,” he answered.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_63' name='page_63'></a>63</span></div> +<p>“Then that proves it,” she replied. “And +now I’m going back to the office.”</p> +<p>He rose at once to go with her.</p> +<p>“Please to sit right where you are for five +minutes,” she begged.</p> +<p>He sat down again and watched her as she +hurried out the door. The moment she disappeared +the place seemed curiously empty––curiously +empty and inane. He stared at the +white-tiled walls, at the heaps of pastry upon +the marble counter, prepared as for wholesale. +Yet, as long as she sat here with him, he had +noticed none of those details. For all he was +conscious of his surroundings, they might have +been lunching together in that subdued, pink-tinted +room where he so often took Frances.</p> +<p>He started as he thought of her. Then he +smiled contentedly. He must have Frances to +lunch with him in the pink-tinted dining-room +next Saturday.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_64' name='page_64'></a>64</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_VI_TWO_GIRLS' id='CHAPTER_VI_TWO_GIRLS'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER VI</h2> +<h3>TWO GIRLS</h3> +</div> +<p>That night, when Miss Winthrop took her +place in the Elevated on her way to the uptown +room that made her home, she dropped her +evening paper in her lap, and, chin in hand, +stared out of the window. That was decidedly +unusual. It was so unusual that a young man +who had taken this same train with her month +after month, and who had rather a keen eye for +such things, noticed for the first time that she +had in profile rather an attractive face. She +was wondering just how different this Pendleton +was from the other men she met. Putting +aside for a moment all generalizations affecting +the sex as a whole, he was not like any of them. +For the first time in a long while she found herself +inclined to accept a man for just what he +appeared to be. It was difficult not to believe in +Pendleton’s eyes, and still more difficult not to +believe in his smile, which made her smile back. +And yet, if she had learned anything, those were +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_65' name='page_65'></a>65</span> +the very things in a man she had learned to +question.</p> +<p>Not that she was naturally cynical, but her +downtown experience had left her very skeptical +about her ability to judge men from such +details. Blake, for instance, could smile as innocently +as a child and meet any woman’s eyes +without flinching. But there was this difference +between Blake and Pendleton: the latter was +new to New York. He was fresh to the city, as +four years ago she had been. In those days she +had dreamed of such a man as Pendleton––a +dream that she was sure she had long since forgotten. +Four years was a long while. It gave +her rather a motherly feeling as she thought of +Pendleton from that distance. And she rather +enjoyed that. It left her freer to continue thinking +of him. This she did until she was almost +carried beyond her street.</p> +<p>After that she almost forgot to stop at +the delicatessen store for her rolls and butter +and cold meat. She hurried with them to her +room––hurried because she was anxious to +reach the place where she was more at liberty +than anywhere else on earth. She tossed aside +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_66' name='page_66'></a>66</span> +her hat and coat and sat by the radiator to +warm her hands.</p> +<p>She wondered if Pendleton would go the +same way Blake had gone. It was so very easy +to go the one way or the other. Farnsworth +himself never helped. His theory was to allow +new men to work out their own salvation, and +to fire them if they did not. He had done that +with young Brown, who came in last year; and +it had seemed to her then a pity––though she +had never liked Brown. This was undoubtedly +what he would do with Pendleton.</p> +<p>But supposing––well, why shouldn’t she +take an interest in Pendleton to the extent of +preventing such a finish if she could? There +need be nothing personal in such an interest; +she could work it out as an experiment.</p> +<p>Miss Winthrop, now thoroughly warm, began +to prepare her supper. She spread a white cloth +upon her table, which was just large enough to +seat one. She placed upon this one plate, one +cup and saucer, one knife and fork and spoon. +It was a very simple matter to prepare supper +for one. She sliced her small portion of cold +meat and placed this on the table. She removed +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_67' name='page_67'></a>67</span> +her rolls from a paper bag and placed them beside +the cold meat. By this time the hot water +was ready, and she took a pinch of tea, put it in +her tea-ball, and poured hot water over it in +her cup. Then she took her place in the one +chair.</p> +<p>But, oddly enough, although there was no +place for him, another seemed to be with her in +the room.</p> +<hr class='tb' /> +<p>“Let me have your engagement-book a moment,” +Frances requested.</p> +<p>Don complied. He had taken his dinner that +night at the dairy lunch, and after returning to +the house to dress had walked to his fiancée’s.</p> +<p>Frances puckered her brows.</p> +<p>“You are to have a very busy time these next +few weeks,” she informed him. “Let me see––to-day +is Wednesday. On Friday we are to go +to the Moores’. Evelyn’s débutante dance, you +know.”</p> +<p>She wrote it in his book.</p> +<p>“On Saturday we go to the opera. The +Warringtons have asked us to a box party.”</p> +<p>She wrote that.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_68' name='page_68'></a>68</span></div> +<p>“Next Wednesday comes the Stanley cotillion. +Have you received your invitation?”</p> +<p>“Haven’t seen it,” he answered.</p> +<p>“The Stanleys are always unpardonably late, +but I helped Elise make out her list. On the following +Friday we dine at the Westons’.”</p> +<p>She wrote that.</p> +<p>“On the following Saturday I’m to give a +box party at the opera––the Moores and +Warringtons.”</p> +<p>She added that, and looked over the list.</p> +<p>“And I suppose, after going to this trouble, +I’ll have to remind you all over again on the +day of each event.”</p> +<p>“Oh, I don’t know; but––” He hesitated.</p> +<p>“Well?” she demanded.</p> +<p>“Seems to me we are getting pretty gay, +aren’t we?”</p> +<p>“Don’t talk like an old man!” she scolded. +“So far, this has been a very stupid season.”</p> +<p>“But––”</p> +<p>“Well?”</p> +<p>“You know, now I’m in business––”</p> +<p>“Please don’t remind me of that any more +than is necessary,” she interrupted.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_69' name='page_69'></a>69</span></div> +<p>“Oh, all right; only, I do have to get up in the +morning.”</p> +<p>“Why remind me of that? It’s disagreeable +enough having to think of it even occasionally.”</p> +<p>“But I do, you know.”</p> +<p>“I know it, Don. Honestly I do.”</p> +<p>She seated herself on the arm of his chair, +with an arm about his neck and her cheek +against his hair.</p> +<p>“And I think it quite too bad,” she assured +him––“which is why I don’t like to talk about +it.”</p> +<p>She sprang to her feet again.</p> +<p>“Now, Don, you must practice with me +some of the new steps. You’ll get very rusty if +you don’t.”</p> +<p>“I’d rather hear you sing,” he ventured.</p> +<p>“This is much more important,” she replied.</p> +<p>She placed a Maxixe record on the Victrola +that stood by the piano; then she held out her +arms to him.</p> +<p>“Poor old hard-working Don!” she laughed +as he rose.</p> +<p>It was true that it was as poor old hard-working +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_70' name='page_70'></a>70</span> +Don he moved toward her. But there +was magic in her lithe young body; there was +magic in her warm hand; there was magic in her +swimming eyes. As he fell into the rhythm of +the music and breathed the incense of her hair, +he was whirled into another world––a world +of laughter and melody and care-free fairies. +But the two most beautiful fairies of all were +her two beautiful eyes, which urged him to +dance faster and faster, and which left him in +the end stooping, with short breaths, above her +upturned lips.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_71' name='page_71'></a>71</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_VII_ROSES' id='CHAPTER_VII_ROSES'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER VII</h2> +<h3>ROSES</h3> +</div> +<p>When Miss Winthrop changed her mind and +consented not to seek a new luncheon place, she +was taking a chance, and she knew it. If ever +Blake heard of the new arrangement,––and he +was sure to hear of it if any one ever saw her +there with Don,––she was fully aware how he +would interpret it to the whole office.</p> +<p>She was taking a chance, and she knew it––knew +it with a curious sense of elation. She was +taking a chance for him. This hour at noon was +the only opportunity she had of talking to Don. +If she let that pass, then she could do nothing +more for him. She must stand back and watch +him go his own way, as others had gone their +way.</p> +<p>For one thing was certain: she could allow +no further conversations in the office. She had +been forced to stop those, and had warned him +that he must not speak to her again there except +on business, and that he must not sit at +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_72' name='page_72'></a>72</span> +Powers’s desk and watch her at work. When +he had challenged her for a reason, she had +blushed; then she had replied simply:––</p> +<p>“It isn’t business.”</p> +<p>So, when on Saturday morning Don came +in heavy-eyed for lack of sleep after the Moore +dance, she merely looked up and nodded +and went on with her work. But she studied +him a dozen times when he did not know she +was studying him, and frowned every time he +suppressed, with difficulty, a yawn. He appeared +tired––dead tired.</p> +<p>For the first time in months she found herself +looking forward to the noon hour. She glanced +at her watch at eleven-thirty, at eleven-forty-five, +and again at five minutes before twelve.</p> +<p>To-day she reserved a seat for him in the +little lunch-room. But at fifteen minutes past +twelve, when Don usually strode in the door, +he had not come. At twenty minutes past he +had not come. If he did not come in another +five minutes she resolved to make no further +effort to keep his place––either to-day or at +any future time. At first she was irritated; +then she was worried. It was possible he was +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_73' name='page_73'></a>73</span> +lunching with Blake. If he began that––well, +she would be freed of all further responsibility, +for one thing. But at this point Don entered. +He made no apologies for having kept her waiting, +but deposited in the empty chair, as he +went off for his sandwich and coffee, a long, +narrow box done up in white paper. She gave +him time to eat a portion of his lunch before she +asked:––</p> +<p>“Out late again last night?”</p> +<p>“Went to a dance,” he nodded.</p> +<p>She was relieved to hear that. It was a better +excuse than some, but still it was not a justifiable +excuse for a man who needed all his +energies.</p> +<p>“You didn’t get enough sleep, then.”</p> +<p>“I should say not,” Don admitted cheerfully. +“In bed at four and up at seven.”</p> +<p>“You look it.”</p> +<p>“And I feel it.”</p> +<p>“You can’t keep that up long.”</p> +<p>“Sunday’s coming, and I’m going to sleep +all day,” he declared.</p> +<p>“But what’s the use of getting into that +condition?” she inquired.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_74' name='page_74'></a>74</span></div> +<p>He thought a moment.</p> +<p>“Well, I don’t suppose a man can cut off +everything just because he’s in business.”</p> +<p>“That’s part of the business––at the beginning,” +she returned.</p> +<p>“To work all the time?”</p> +<p>“To work all the time,” she nodded. “I wish +I had your chance.”</p> +<p>“My chance to work?” he laughed.</p> +<p>“Your chance to get ahead,” she answered. +“It’s all so easy––for a man!”</p> +<p>“Easy?”</p> +<p>“You don’t have to do anything but keep +straight and keep at work. You ought to have +taken those circulars home with you last night +and learned them by heart.”</p> +<p>“I’ve read ’em. But, hang it all, they don’t +mean anything.”</p> +<p>“Then find out what they mean. Keep at it +until you do find out. The firm isn’t going to +pay you for what you <i>don’t</i> know.”</p> +<p>“But last night––well, a man has to get +around a little bit.”</p> +<p>“Around where?” she questioned him.</p> +<p>“Among his friends. Doesn’t he?”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_75' name='page_75'></a>75</span></div> +<p>She hesitated.</p> +<p>“It seems to me you’ll have to choose between +dances and business.”</p> +<p>“Eh?”</p> +<p>She nodded.</p> +<p>“Between dances and business. I tell you, +this next six months is going to count a lot +on how you make good with Farnsworth.”</p> +<p>“Well, he isn’t the only one,” he said.</p> +<p>“He’s the only one in this office––I know +what I’m talking about.”</p> +<p>“But outside the office––”</p> +<p>She put down her fork.</p> +<p>“I don’t know why I’m mixing up in your +business,” she declared earnestly. “Except +that I’ve been here three years now, and have +seen men come and go. Every time they’ve +gone it has been clear as daylight why they +went. Farnsworth is square. He hasn’t much +heart in him, but he’s square. And he has eyes +in the back of his head.”</p> +<p>She raised her own eyes and looked swiftly +about the room as if she half-expected to discover +him here.</p> +<p>“What’s the matter?” he inquired.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_76' name='page_76'></a>76</span></div> +<p>She did not answer his question, but as she +ran on again she lowered her voice:––</p> +<p>“You’ve been in his office to-day?”</p> +<p>“He gave me some more circulars,” Don +admitted.</p> +<p>“Then you’d better believe he knew you +didn’t get to bed last night until 4 a.m. And +you’d better believe he has tucked that away in +his mind somewhere.”</p> +<p>Don appeared worried.</p> +<p>“He didn’t say anything.”</p> +<p>“No, he didn’t say anything. He doesn’t +say anything until he has a whole collection of +those little things. Even then he doesn’t say +much; but what he does say––counts.”</p> +<p>“You don’t think he’s getting ready to fire +me?” he asked anxiously.</p> +<p>“He’s always getting ready,” she answered. +“He’s always getting ready to fire or advance +you. That’s the point,” she went on more +earnestly. “What I don’t understand is why +the men who come in here aren’t getting ready +too. I don’t see why they don’t play the game. +I might stay with the firm twenty years and I’d +still be pounding a typewriter. But you––”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_77' name='page_77'></a>77</span></div> +<p>She raised her eyes to his. She saw that +Don’s had grown less dull, and her own warmed +with this initial success.</p> +<p>“You used to play football, didn’t you?” +she asked.</p> +<p>“A little.”</p> +<p>“Then you ought to know something about +doing things hard; and you ought to know +something about keeping in training.”</p> +<p>“But look here, it seems to me you take this +mighty seriously.”</p> +<p>“Farnsworth does,” she corrected. “That’s +why he’s getting ten thousand a year.”</p> +<p>The figures recalled a vivid episode.</p> +<p>“Ten thousand a year,” he repeated after +her. “Is that what he draws?”</p> +<p>“That’s what they say. Anyway, he’s +worth it.”</p> +<p>“And you think I––I might make a job like +that?”</p> +<p>“I’ll bet I’d try for it if I were in your boots,” +she answered earnestly.</p> +<p>“I’ll bet you’d land it if you were in my +boots.” He raised his coffee-cup. “Here’s to +the ten thousand a year,” he drank.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_78' name='page_78'></a>78</span></div> +<p>Miss Winthrop rose. She had talked more +than she intended, and was somewhat irritated +at herself. If, for a second, she thought she +had accomplished something, she did not think +so now, as he too rose and smiled at her. He +handed her the pasteboard box.</p> +<p>“Your two dollars is in there,” he explained.</p> +<p>She looked perplexed.</p> +<p>“Shall I wait five minutes?”</p> +<p>“Yes,” she answered, as he thrust the box +into her hands.</p> +<p>That box worried her all the afternoon. Not +having a chance to open it, she hid it beneath +her desk, where it distracted her thoughts until +evening. Of course she could not open it on the +Elevated, so it lay in her lap, still further to +distract her thoughts on the way home. It +seemed certain that a two-dollar bill could not +occupy all that space.</p> +<p>She did not wait even to remove her hat before +opening it in her room. She found a little +envelope containing her two-dollar bill nestling +in five dollars’ worth of roses.</p> +<p>It was about as foolish a thing as she had +ever known a man to do.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_79' name='page_79'></a>79</span></div> +<p>She placed the flowers on the table when she +had her supper. All night long they filled the +room with their fragrance.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_80' name='page_80'></a>80</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_VIII_A_MAN_OF_AFFAIRS' id='CHAPTER_VIII_A_MAN_OF_AFFAIRS'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER VIII</h2> +<h3>A MAN OF AFFAIRS</h3> +</div> +<p>When, with some eighteen dollars in his +pocket, Don on Sunday ordered Nora to prepare +for him on that day and during the following +week a breakfast of toast, eggs, and coffee, he +felt very much a man of affairs. He was paying +for his own sustenance, and with the first money +he had ever earned. He drew from his pocket +a ten-dollar bill, a five-dollar bill, a two-dollar +bill, and some loose change.</p> +<p>“Pick out what you need,” he ordered, as he +held the money toward her.</p> +<p>“I don’t know how much it will be, sir. I’ll +ask the cook, sir.”</p> +<p>“Very well; ask the cook. About dinners––I +think I’d better wait until I see how I’m +coming out. Dinners don’t matter so much, +any way, because they come after I’m through +work.”</p> +<p>Don ate his breakfast in the dining-room +before the open fire, as his father used to do. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_81' name='page_81'></a>81</span> +In smoking-jacket and slippered feet, he enjoyed +this as a rare luxury––even this matter +of breakfasting at home, which until now had +been merely a negative detail of routine.</p> +<p>When he had finished he drew his chair closer +to the flames and lighted a cigarette. He had +been cutting down on cigarettes. He had always +bought them by the hundred; he was now +buying them by the box. Until this week he +never realized that they represented money. +He was paying now twenty-five cents for a box +of ten; and twenty-five cents, as he had learned +in the restaurant in the alley, was a sum of +money with tremendous possibilities. It would +buy, for one thing, five egg sandwiches; and five +egg sandwiches would keep a man from being +uncomfortably hungry a good many hours.</p> +<p>Thus a quarter, from being merely an odd +piece of loose change, took on a vital, tangible +character of its own. Translated into smokes, +it gave a smoke a new value. He had started in +to make a box of cigarettes last a day; but he +was now resolved to make them last two days. +This allowed him one after each meal and two +in the evening.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_82' name='page_82'></a>82</span></div> +<p>If at first he had considered this a hardship, +he was beginning to appreciate the fact that it +had its compensating advantages. This morning, +for instance, he felt that he had never +tasted such good tobacco in his life. Like his +breakfast, it was a pleasure to be prolonged––to +give his thought to. He smoked slowly and +carefully and keenly. With his head against the +back of his chair, he watched the white cloudlets +curl upward after he had inhaled their +fragrance. This was no dull habit indulged in +automatically.</p> +<p>In this moment of indulgence his thoughts +turned to Miss Winthrop. It was nearing +twelve, and perhaps this had something to do +with it. He was going to miss that luncheon +hour. He had come to look forward to it as +quite the most interesting event of the day. +From his comfortable position before the fire, +he wondered why.</p> +<p>It was impossible to say she had any definite +physical attractions, although her eyes were not +bad. They piqued a man’s curiosity, those eyes. +One remembered them. That was true also of +her mouth. Don had no very definite notion of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_83' name='page_83'></a>83</span> +its exact shape, but he remembered how it surprised +one by changing from the tenderness of a +young girl’s mouth to the firmness of a man’s a +dozen times in the course of a few minutes’ +conversation.</p> +<p>It was quarter-past twelve. If he had known +her telephone number he would have called her +up now, just to say “Hello.” He would be taking +a chance, however; for, as likely as not, she +would inquire what he was doing, and would, he +felt sure, scold him for having so late a breakfast.</p> +<p>Odd, that a woman should be so energetic! +He had always thought of them as quite the +opposite. Leisureliness was a prerogative of the +sex. He had always understood that it was a +woman’s right to pamper herself.</p> +<p>Undoubtedly she would object to his sitting +on here before the open fire. Farnsworth would +not waste a morning like this––he seemed to +hear her telling him so. If he wanted that ten +thousand a year, he ought to be working on +those circulars. A man was not paid for what he +didn’t know. Here, with nothing else to do, +was a good time to get after them. Well, he had +gone so far as to bring them home with him.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_84' name='page_84'></a>84</span></div> +<p>He rose reluctantly, went upstairs to his +room, and brought them down. He began on +the electric company which was offering gold +bonds at a price to net four and a half per +cent. Then Nora came in to call him to the +telephone.</p> +<p>“Who is it, Nora?”</p> +<p>“Miss Stuyvesant, sir.”</p> +<p>“Oh, yes.”</p> +<p>He hurried to the telephone.</p> +<p>“Good-morning, Frances.”</p> +<p>“Dad and Mother have gone to church and +it’s very stupid here,” she complained. “Can’t +you come over?”</p> +<p>He hesitated the fraction of a second.</p> +<p>“Oh, of course,––if you don’t want to,––” +she began quickly.</p> +<p>“It isn’t that, Frances. Of course I want to +come; only, there were some papers I brought +home from the office––”</p> +<p>“Well?”</p> +<p>“I can go over them some other time. I’ll be +right up.”</p> +<hr class='tb' /> +<p>A discovery that encouraged Don the following +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_85' name='page_85'></a>85</span> +week was that by some unconscious power +of absorption he grew sufficiently familiar with +the financial jargon of the office to feel that it +really was within the possibilities that some day +he might understand it fully. He found several +opportunities to talk with Powers, and the +latter, after recovering from his surprise at the +primitive nature of some of Don’s questions +about notes and bonds, went to some trouble +to answer them. Not only that, but he mentioned +certain books that might supply fuller +and more fundamental information.</p> +<p>“I know these sound like fool questions,” +Don apologized, “but I’ve never been down in +this end of the town much.”</p> +<p>“That’s all right,” replied Powers. “Come +to me any time you’re stuck.”</p> +<p>After Powers went out, Don sat down and +tried to recall some of the things he had been +told. He remembered some of them and some +of them he didn’t. But that day at lunch +Miss Winthrop handed him a stenographic report +of the entire conversation. Don looked +over it in amazement. It was in the form of +question and answer.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_86' name='page_86'></a>86</span></div> +<p><i>Mr. Pendleton:</i> Say, old man, what is a gold +bond, anyway?</p> +<p><i>Mr. Powers:</i> I beg your pardon?</p> +<p>And so on down to Don’s final apology.</p> +<p><i>Mr. Pendleton:</i> I know these sound like fool +questions––</p> +<p><i>Mr. Powers:</i> That’s all right––</p> +<p>“Read it over in your spare time,” advised +Miss Winthrop; “then you won’t ask him the +same questions twice.”</p> +<p>“But how in thunder did you get this?” he +inquired.</p> +<p>“I wasn’t busy just then, and took it down. +I knew you’d forget half he told you.”</p> +<p>“It was mighty good of you,” he answered. +“But I wish you had left out my talk. Now +that I see it in type, it sounds even more foolish +than I thought it was.”</p> +<p>“I’ve seen a lot of things that didn’t turn +out well in type,” she nodded. “But you needn’t +read that part of it. What Powers said +was worth while. He knows what he’s talking +about, and that’s why he’s the best bond salesman +in the house.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_87' name='page_87'></a>87</span></div> +<p>“What sort of a salary does <i>he</i> draw?”</p> +<p>“I don’t know,” she answered. “And if I +were you I’d forget the salary end of my job +for a while.”</p> +<p>“It’s a mighty important end,” he declared.</p> +<p>“I don’t see it,” she returned frankly. “I +suppose you’re starting on twenty-five?”</p> +<p>“That’s all,” he admitted.</p> +<p>“It’s all you’re worth. Any one to support +besides yourself?”</p> +<p>“No.”</p> +<p>“Then what you worrying about?”</p> +<p>“But, good Heavens, a man can’t live on +that––any length of time.”</p> +<p>“Can’t? I know men who support a wife +and children on less.”</p> +<p>“Eh?”</p> +<p>“And do it decently,” she nodded. “I live +on half of that myself.”</p> +<p>“You?”</p> +<p>“Of course. Did you think I drew a salary +like Farnsworth?”</p> +<p>She laughed at his open astonishment. It +appeared genuine.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_88' name='page_88'></a>88</span></div> +<p>“You live on half of twenty-five dollars a +week?” he repeated.</p> +<p>She did not care to pursue the subject. It +was a bit too personal.</p> +<p>“So do hundreds of thousands of others,” +she informed him. “On that and less than that. +Now, you put that paper away in your pocket, +and don’t ask Powers another question until +you know it by heart. Then get after him again. +When you run across something you don’t +know, why don’t you write it down?”</p> +<p>He took out his engagement-book on the +spot and made an entry.</p> +<p>“I’ve written down that you say it’s possible +to live on twenty-five dollars a week,” he +informed her, as he replaced the book in his +pocket.</p> +<p>“Don’t be silly,” she warned. “You’d better +write down something about not worrying +about your salary at all.”</p> +<p>“I’ll do that,” he returned.</p> +<p>He took out his engagement-book again +and scribbled a line.</p> +<p>“Miss Winthrop says not to worry about +my salary.”</p> +<div class='figtag'> +<a name='linki_2' id='linki_2'></a> +</div> +<div class='figcenter'> +<img src='images/i088.jpg' alt='' title='' width='520' height='355' /><br /> +<p class='caption'> +“CAN’T? I KNOW MEN WHO SUPPORT A WIFE AND CHILDREN ON LESS”<br /> +</p> +</div> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_89' name='page_89'></a>89</span></div> +<p>“I didn’t say it,” she protested.</p> +<p>“Them’s your very words.”</p> +<p>“I mean––” she grew really confused. “I +mean––you needn’t put it down that I said +it. You ought to say it to yourself.”</p> +<p>He shook his head. “That’s too deep for +me.”</p> +<p>“Then let’s drop the subject,” she answered +curtly. “Only don’t get the idea that it’s I +who am worrying about your salary, one way +or the other.”</p> +<p>“No need of getting peeved about it,” he +suggested.</p> +<p>“Not in the slightest,” she agreed.</p> +<p>But she did not wait for her éclair, and went +back to the office in anything but a good humor.</p> +<p>On the whole, Miss Winthrop was rather +disappointed in him as a result of this last interview––the +more so because he had begun the +day so well. Her hopes had risen high at the +way he approached Powers, and at the seriousness +with which he had listened to what Powers +had to say. He had acted like a man eager +to learn. Then he had spoiled it all by placing +undue emphasis on the salary end.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_90' name='page_90'></a>90</span></div> +<p>This new development in Pendleton came +as a surprise. It did not seem consistent with +his nature as she read it in his eyes. It was not +in character. It left her doubting her judgment +about him along other lines. She did not object +to his ambition. That was essential. He ought +to work for Farnsworth’s position––but for the +position, not the salary. The position stood +for power based upon ability. That was the +sort of success she would be keen about if she +were a man.</p> +<p>Curious, too, that Mr. Pendleton should be +so keen about money in this one direction. She +had thought his tendency all the other way, +and had made a mental note that sometime +she must drive home to him a few facts about +having a decent respect for money. A man who +would return the loan of a two-dollar bill in +five dollars’ worth of roses was not the sort of +man one expected to have a vaulting ambition +for thousands for their own sake. One thing +was sure––he was not the type of man who +ought to occupy so much of her attention on a +busy afternoon.</p> +<p>At a few minutes before five, just as Miss +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_91' name='page_91'></a>91</span> +Winthrop was jabbing the last pin into her hat, +a messenger boy hurried into the office with a +parcel bearing a noticeable resemblance to a +one-pound candy box. He inquired of Eddie +for Miss Winthrop, and Eddie, with considerable +ceremony, escorted the boy to the desk of +that astonished young woman.</p> +<p>“Sign here,” the boy ordered.</p> +<p>Miss Winthrop gave a swift glance around +the office. Mr. Pendleton was at work at Powers’s +desk and didn’t even look up. It was a +remarkable exhibition of concentration on his +part. Blake, however, swung around in his +chair and raised his brows.</p> +<p>Miss Winthrop seized the pencil and wrote +her name, dotting the “i” and crossing the “t” +with vicious jabs. Then she picked up the box +and hurried toward the door.</p> +<p>“From a devoted admirer?” inquired Blake, +as she passed him.</p> +<p>Don saw the color spring to Miss Winthrop’s +cheeks, but she hurried on without a word in +reply. He understood now what it was she did +not like about Blake. Don was not at all of an +aggressive nature, but at that moment he could +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_92' name='page_92'></a>92</span> +have struck the man with the greatest satisfaction. +It seemed the only adequate way of expressing +himself. Blake was still smiling.</p> +<p>“Sort of caught her with the goods that +time, eh?” observed Blake.</p> +<p>“I don’t get you,” answered Don.</p> +<p>“Candy by messenger? Well, I’ve been looking +for it. And when those haughty ones do +fall, believe me, they fall hard.”</p> +<p>“Maybe,” answered Don. “But I’ll bet you +five dollars to a quarter you’re wrong about +her.”</p> +<p>Blake’s eyes narrowed a trifle.</p> +<p>“I’ll take you,” he answered. “What’s your +proof?”</p> +<p>“I sent her that stuff myself.”</p> +<p>“You? Holy smoke, that’s going some!”</p> +<p>“I sent her that to pay for some typewriting +she did for me and because I knew she wouldn’t +take any money.”</p> +<p>“I lose. Come out and have a drink?”</p> +<p>“Thanks,” answered Don. “I’m on my way +uptown. Give that quarter to Eddie.”</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_93' name='page_93'></a>93</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_IX_IT_WILL_NEVER_DO' id='CHAPTER_IX_IT_WILL_NEVER_DO'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER IX</h2> +<h3>IT WILL NEVER DO</h3> +</div> +<p>If Miss Winthrop ever had more than a nodding +acquaintance with Mr. Pendleton, she +gave no indication of that fact when she came +in the next morning. With a face as blank as a +house closed for the season, she clicked away +at her typewriter until noon, and then hurried +out to lunch as if that were a purely business +transaction also. Don followed a little sooner +than usual. The little restaurant was not at all +crowded to-day, but she was not there. He +waited ten minutes, and as he waited the conviction +grew that she did not intend to come.</p> +<p>Don went out and began an investigation. +He visited five similar places in the course of +the next fifteen minutes, and in the last one +he found her. She was seated in a far corner, +and she was huddled up as if trying to make +herself as inconspicuous as possible. As he +strode to her side with uplifted hat, she shrank +away like a hunted thing finding itself trapped.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_94' name='page_94'></a>94</span></div> +<p>“What did you run away for?” he demanded.</p> +<p>“What did you hunt me up for?” she replied.</p> +<p>“Because I wanted to see you.”</p> +<p>“And I came here because I did <i>not</i> want to +see you.”</p> +<p>“Now, look here––” he began.</p> +<p>“So I should think you’d go along and leave +me alone,” she interrupted.</p> +<p>“If I did that, then I’d never know what the +trouble is all about,” he explained.</p> +<p>“Well, what of it?”</p> +<p>“May I sit down?”</p> +<p>There was an empty chair next to her.</p> +<p>“I can’t prevent you, but I’ve told you I +want to be alone.”</p> +<p>“When you look that way, you’re just as +much alone as if I weren’t here,” he returned, +as he took the chair. “And every one knows +it.”</p> +<p>She gave a swift glance about the room, as if +expecting to find half the crowd looking at her.</p> +<p>“Maybe they are too polite to let on,” he +continued; “but I know just what they are +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_95' name='page_95'></a>95</span> +saying to themselves. They are saying, ‘She +certainly hasn’t much use for him. You’d +think he’d take the tip and get out.’”</p> +<p>“You don’t seem to care much, then, about +what they say.”</p> +<p>“I don’t care a hang,” he admitted.</p> +<p>She pushed her plate away as if ready to go.</p> +<p>“Wait a minute,” he pleaded. “It doesn’t +seem like you to go off and leave a man in the +dark. How in thunder am I going to know any +better next time if you don’t tell me where I +made the break?”</p> +<p>“I don’t believe you’d know if I did tell +you,” she answered more gently.</p> +<p>“The least you can do is to try.”</p> +<p>She did not want to tell him. If he was sincere––and +the longer she talked with him, the +more convinced she was that this was the case––then +she did not wish to disillusionize him.</p> +<p>“The least you can do is to give me a +chance,” he persisted.</p> +<p>“The mistake came in the beginning, Mr. +Pendleton,” she said, with an effort. “And it +was all my fault. You––you seemed so different +from a lot of men who come into the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_96' name='page_96'></a>96</span> +office that I––well, I wanted to see you get +started straight. In the three years I’ve been +there I’ve picked up a lot of facts that aren’t +much use to me because––because I’m just +Miss Winthrop. So I thought I could pass +them on.”</p> +<p>“That was mighty white of you,” he nodded.</p> +<p>The color flashed into her cheeks.</p> +<p>“I thought I could do that much without +interfering in any other way with either of +our lives.”</p> +<p>“Well?”</p> +<p>“There were two or three things I didn’t +reckon with,” she answered.</p> +<p>“What were they?” he demanded.</p> +<p>“Blake is one of them.”</p> +<p>“Blake?” His face brightened with sudden +understanding. “Then the trouble is all about +that box of candy?”</p> +<p>“You shouldn’t have sent it. You should +have known better than to send it. You––had +no right.”</p> +<p>“But that was nothing. You were so darned +good to me about the typewriting and it was +all I could think of.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_97' name='page_97'></a>97</span></div> +<p>“So, you see,” she concluded, “it won’t do. +It won’t do at all.”</p> +<p>“I don’t see,” he returned.</p> +<p>“Then it’s because you didn’t see the way +Blake looked at me,” she said.</p> +<p>“Yes, I saw,” he answered. “I could have +hit him for it. But I fixed that.”</p> +<p>“You––fixed that?” she gasped.</p> +<p>“I certainly did. I told him I sent the box, +and told him why.”</p> +<p>“Oh!” she exclaimed. “Then they’ll all +know, and––what am I going to do? Oh, what +am I going to do?”</p> +<p>It was a pitiful cry. He did not understand +why it was so intense, because he did not see +what she saw––the gossip increasing in maliciousness; +the constant watching and nods and +winks, until in the end it became intolerable +either to her or to Farnsworth. Nor was that +the possible end. To leave an office under these +conditions was a serious matter––a matter so +serious as to affect her whole future.</p> +<p>“Now, see here,” he pleaded. “Don’t take +it so hard. You’re making too much of it. Blake +isn’t going to talk any more. If he does––”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_98' name='page_98'></a>98</span></div> +<p>She raised her head.</p> +<p>“If he does, there isn’t anything you can do +about it.”</p> +<p>“I’ll bet there is.”</p> +<p>“No––no––<i>no</i>. There isn’t. I know! But +you mustn’t come here any more. And you +mustn’t talk to me any more. Then perhaps +they’ll forget.”</p> +<p>He grew serious.</p> +<p>“It seems too bad if it’s got to be that +way,” he answered.</p> +<p>“I ought to have known,” she said.</p> +<p>“And I ought to have known, too. I was a +fool to send that box into the office, but I +wanted you to get it before you went home.”</p> +<p>She raised her eyes to his a moment. Then +a queer, tender expression softened her mouth.</p> +<p>“This is the end of it,” she answered. “And +now I’m glad you did not know any better.”</p> +<p>She rose to go, and then she noticed that +he had not lunched.</p> +<p>“I’ll wait here until you come back with +your sandwich,” she said.</p> +<p>“I don’t want a sandwich,” he protested.</p> +<p>“Please hurry.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_99' name='page_99'></a>99</span></div> +<p>So she waited there until he came back with +his lunch, and then she held out her hand to +him.</p> +<p>“To-morrow you go to the old place,” she +said, “and I’ll come here.”</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_100' name='page_100'></a>100</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_X_DICTATION' id='CHAPTER_X_DICTATION'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER X</h2> +<h3>DICTATION</h3> +</div> +<p>As far as Don was concerned, Miss Winthrop, +instead of merely changing her lunch-place, +might just as well have taken a steamer and +sailed for Europe. He saw her at her desk +every morning when he came in, and she always +looked up and nodded––as she did, for +that matter, to every one, including Blake. +Then she turned to her work, and that was +the end of her until the next morning. As far +as he was able to judge, Miss Winthrop had +completely and utterly forgotten the preceding +weeks and even the incident that led to this +disastrous climax.</p> +<p>But the situation that left her so unaffected +got on Don’s nerves. He was by nature too +much of a social being to endure being left to +himself very long. This lunching alone day +after day was a dreary affair. The egg sandwiches +began to pall upon his taste, and he felt +that he could not have eaten an éclair had he +been starving.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_101' name='page_101'></a>101</span></div> +<p>Sometimes he had only a cup of coffee, and +then hurried out and wandered about the +streets for the remainder of his hour. It was a +long hour––a tedious hour. Most of the time +he spent in the hope that, by some lucky +chance, he might meet her. He did not hunt +for her. He avoided her usual course. If he +met her, it must be honestly by chance. But +he never met her. He passed thousands of +other young women, but he never met her. He +used to return to the office sometimes doubting +that she existed. But at one o’clock she +was always there back of her machine.</p> +<p>He spent a good deal of time that week with +Powers; and seemed to make some progress. +He had now a definite knowledge of bonds and +notes, and had even mastered, in a general +way, the important details of some of the issues +the house was handling. Twice he had taken +home his papers and actually spent several +hours upon them. Some of them he knew almost +by heart. It was encouraging, but it +would have been much more encouraging if he +had been able to tell Miss Winthrop about it.</p> +<p>Somehow, he did not feel that he really +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_102' name='page_102'></a>102</span> +knew those things until he had told her he +knew them. This was a curious frame of mind +to be in, but it was a fact.</p> +<p>As far as he was concerned, he would have +broken through this embargo long ago. But +she had made him see, and see clearly, that he +was <i>not</i> alone concerned. That was the whole +trouble. If Blake talked only about him, and +let it go at that, no harm would be done.</p> +<p>One Friday morning, toward eleven o’clock, +Blake was out of the office, and Don had just +finished a long talk with Powers, when he +noticed that Miss Winthrop was not for the +moment busy.</p> +<p>Don had an inspiration. He caught Powers +just as he was about to leave.</p> +<p>“Look here, old man,” he said in an undertone. +“Is there any objection to my dictating +a letter to Miss Winthrop?”</p> +<p>“Why, no,” answered Powers. “She’s there +for the use of the staff.”</p> +<p>“Thought I’d like to have her take down +some of the things we’ve been talking about,” +he explained.</p> +<p>“Good idea,” nodded Powers.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_103' name='page_103'></a>103</span></div> +<p>A minute later Miss Winthrop caught her +breath as Don calmly walked to her desk, seated +himself in a chair near her, and, producing +a circular from his pocket, followed Blake’s +formula in asking:––</p> +<p>“Can you take a letter for me, Miss Winthrop?”</p> +<p>Almost as automatically as she answered +Blake, she replied:––</p> +<p>“Certainly.”</p> +<p>She reached for her notebook and pencil.</p> +<p>“<i>My dear Madame</i>,” he began.</p> +<p>“Any address, Mr. Pendleton?”</p> +<p>“I don’t know the exact address,” he answered. +“Just address it to the little restaurant +in the alley.”</p> +<p>She looked up.</p> +<p>“Mr. Pendleton!”</p> +<p>“To the little restaurant in the alley,” he +continued calmly. “Do you use Madame or +Mademoiselle to an unmarried lady?” he inquired.</p> +<p>“I suppose this is a strictly business letter, +or you would not be dictating it in office hours,” +she returned.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_104' name='page_104'></a>104</span></div> +<p>“I’ll make it partly business,” he nodded. +“Ready?”</p> +<p>“Yes, Mr. Pendleton; but I don’t think––”</p> +<p>“Who is introducing the personal element +now?” he demanded.</p> +<p>“Ready, Mr. Pendleton.”</p> +<blockquote> +<p><i>My dear Madame</i>:––</p> +<p>In reply to your advice that I acquire certain +information relative to the securities which our +firm is offering for sale, I beg to report that, after +several talks with our Mr. Powers, I am prepared +to give you any information you may desire.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>“Try me on one of them?” he suggested, interrupting +himself.</p> +<p>She raised her eyes and glanced anxiously +around the office. Then she replied, as if reading +from her notebook:––</p> +<p>“You forget, Mr. Pendleton, that I am taking +a letter from you.”</p> +<p>“Try me on one of the bonds,” he insisted.</p> +<p>“You mustn’t act like this. Really, you +mustn’t.”</p> +<p>“Then I’ll dictate some more. Ready?”</p> +<p>“Yes, Mr. Pendleton.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_105' name='page_105'></a>105</span></div> +<p>Our Miss Winthrop has just informed me that +you have lost your interest in the whole matter.</p> +<p>“I didn’t say that, Mr. Pendleton,” she +interrupted.</p> +<p>“What did you say, then?”</p> +<p>“I said that here in the office––”</p> +<p>“Oh, I see. Then scratch that sentence out.”</p> +<p>She scratched it out.</p> +<p>“Have it read this way”:––</p> +<p>Our Miss Winthrop informs me––</p> +<p>“Why need you bring me in at all?” she +asked.</p> +<p>“Please don’t interrupt.”</p> +<p>––informs me that, owing to the lack of privacy +in the office, you cannot discuss these matters +here with me. Therefore I suggest that, as long as +the luncheon hour is no longer convenient (for the +same reasons), an arrangement be made whereby +I may have the pleasure of dining with you some +evening.</p> +<p>Miss Winthrop’s brows came together.</p> +<p>“That is absolutely impossible!” she exclaimed.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_106' name='page_106'></a>106</span></div> +<p>If the idea does not appeal to you as a pleasure,––</p> +<p>he went on in the most impersonal of tones,––</p> +<p>perhaps you would be willing to consider it as a +favor. Our Miss Winthrop informs me that the +suggestion is impossible, but personally I don’t +see how anything could be more easily arranged. +I would prefer Saturday evening, as on that date +I am quite sure of being sufficiently well provided +with ducats––</p> +<p>“You’d better save them,” she interrupted.</p> +<p>––to insure a proper settlement with the +waiter,––</p> +<p>he concluded his sentence.</p> +<p>Please let me know, then, where I may meet +you on Saturday evening next.</p> +<p>“I told you that was quite impossible, Mr. +Pendleton,” she reminded him.</p> +<p>“You haven’t told me why.”</p> +<p>“There are a hundred reasons, and they +can’t be discussed here.”</p> +<p>“That’s it,” he exclaimed triumphantly. +“That’s the whole trouble! We can’t discuss +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_107' name='page_107'></a>107</span> +things here; so let’s have our little dinner, and +then there’ll be all the chance in the world for +you to tell me why you shouldn’t come.”</p> +<p>“You’re absurd,” she declared, with an involuntary +smile.</p> +<p>Hoping for the favor of an early reply,––</p> +<p>he concluded,––</p> +<p>I beg to remain, Madame, most sincerely yours.</p> +<p>“Is that all?”</p> +<p>“You might add this postscript”:––</p> +<p>I shall be at the Harvard Club at seven to-night, +and a ’phone message there might be the +most convenient way of replying.</p> +<p>“You don’t really wish this typed, Mr. Pendleton?”</p> +<p>“I think it best,” he replied as he rose, +“unless you’re too tired?”</p> +<p>“I’m never tired in business hours.”</p> +<p>He returned to his desk; in a few seconds he +heard the click of her machine.</p> +<p>Miss Winthrop did not stop at the delicatessen +store that night, but went direct to her +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_108' name='page_108'></a>108</span> +room. She removed her hat and coat, and +then sat down, chin in hands, to think this +problem out.</p> +<p>She had missed Pendleton at the luncheon +hour to a distinctly discomfiting degree. Naturally +enough, she held him wholly responsible +for that state of mind. Her life had been going +along smoothly until he took it upon himself +to come into the office. There had been no +complications––no worries. She was earning +enough to provide her with a safe retreat at +night, and to clothe and feed her body; and +this left her free, within certain accepted +limits, to do as she pleased. This was her enviable +condition when Mr. Pendleton came +along––came from Heaven knew where, and +took up his position near her desk. Then he +had happened upon her at the little restaurant. +And he was hungry and had only thirteen +cents.</p> +<p>Perhaps right there was where she had made +her mistake. It appeared that a woman could +not be impersonally decent to a man without +being held personally responsible. If she did +not telephone him to-night, Pendleton would +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_109' name='page_109'></a>109</span> +be disappointed, and, being disappointed, +Heaven only knew what he would do.</p> +<p>Under the circumstances, perhaps the wisest +thing she could do was to meet him this once +and make him clearly understand that she was +never to meet him again. Pendleton was young, +and he had not been long enough in the office +to learn the downtown conventions. It was +her fault that she had interested herself in him +in the first place. It was her fault that she +had allowed him to lunch with her. It was her +fault that she had not been strictly businesslike +with him in the office. So she would have dinner +with him, and that would end it.</p> +<p>She had some tea and crackers, and at half-past +six put on her things and took a short +walk. At seven she went into a public pay +station, rang up the Harvard Club, and called +for Mr. Pendleton. When she heard his voice +her cheeks turned scarlet.</p> +<p>“If you insist I’ll come to-morrow night,” +she informed him. “But––”</p> +<p>“Say, that’s fine!” he interrupted.</p> +<p>“But I want you to understand that I don’t +approve of it.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_110' name='page_110'></a>110</span></div> +<p>“Oh, that’s all right,” he assured her. +“Where may I call for you?”</p> +<p>“I––I don’t know.”</p> +<p>“Where do you live?”</p> +<p>She gave her address.</p> +<p>“Then I’ll call there.”</p> +<p>“Very well,” she answered.</p> +<p>“Now, I call that mighty good of you,” he +ran on. “And––”</p> +<p>“Good-night,” she concluded sharply.</p> +<p>She hung up the receiver and went back to +her room in anything but a comfortable frame +of mind.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_111' name='page_111'></a>111</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XI_STEAK_WITH_MUSHROOMS_AND_ADVICE' id='CHAPTER_XI_STEAK_WITH_MUSHROOMS_AND_ADVICE'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XI</h2> +<h3>STEAK, WITH MUSHROOMS AND ADVICE</h3> +</div> +<p>All of Miss Winthrop that occupied a desk +in the office of Carter, Rand & Seagraves on +the next day was that for which Farnsworth +was paying a weekly wage of twelve dollars. +From the moment she entered that morning +until she left that afternoon she made this perfectly +clear to every one, including Don. But +he also was busy. He had determined to make +himself letter perfect on several bond issues. +To this end he worked as hard as ever he had +the day before a final examination. Besides +this, Farnsworth found three or four errands +for him to do, which he accomplished with dispatch. +All that week Farnsworth had used +him more and more––a distinctly encouraging +sign. Don knew offhand now the location +of some ten or fifteen offices, and was received +in them as the recognized representative of +Carter, Rand & Seagraves. In some places he +was even known by name and addressed as +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_112' name='page_112'></a>112</span> +Mr. Pendleton––which filled him with considerable +pride.</p> +<p>Don went direct to his house from the office, +dressed, and went to the club.</p> +<p>“If any one rings me up, get the name,” +he ordered the doorman.</p> +<p>He avoided the crowd before the bar, and +went upstairs to the library. He had brought +his circulars with him, and now went over +them once again in order to refresh his memory +on some of the details. He was as anxious +about getting this right as if Miss Winthrop +were a prospective customer. Perhaps +she might be. Women invested money, and if +he was persuasive enough he might sell her a +thousand-dollar bond. If he did not sell one +to her, he might sell a few to Barton. Barton +was always investing money––investing the +Pendleton money, in fact. He might suggest +Barton to Farnsworth, and drop around and +see him to-morrow. Then Barton might suggest +some one else. Before night he might in +this way sell a couple of dozen of these bonds. +He grew excited at the idea. He felt a new instinct +stirring within him.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_113' name='page_113'></a>113</span></div> +<p>Don had never sold anything in his life except +a few old clothes to second-hand clothes +men in Cambridge. Strictly speaking, that +was more in the nature of a gift than a sale: +for a hundred dollars’ worth of clothes, he received +perhaps ten dollars, which he felt +obliged to spend on his friends at the first +opportunity.</p> +<p>Don had always been a buyer––a talent +that required neither preparation nor development. +Money had always passed from him +to some one else. This was pleasant enough, +but undramatic. There was no clash; it called +for no effort on his part. To reverse all this +and watch the money pass in the other direction––from +some one else to him––impressed +him as a pleasant variation.</p> +<p>At seven o’clock Don replaced his circulars +in his pocket and went downstairs. Wadsworth +passed him, and for a moment Don was +tempted to stop him and try out his knowledge +of bonds on him. The club, however, was +hardly the place for that. But if ever he met +Wadsworth on the street he would see what +he could do. Wadsworth had never been more +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_114' name='page_114'></a>114</span> +than an acquaintance of his, but now he saw +in him a prospective customer.</p> +<p>Don stepped into a taxi at the door and gave +the driver the address supplied by Miss Winthrop. +The cab after a little came to a stop +before one of several entrances in a long brick +block. Before Don had time to reach the door +Miss Winthrop stepped out. He had rather +hoped for an opportunity to meet some of her +family.</p> +<p>“Am I late?” he inquired anxiously.</p> +<p>He could not account in any other way for +the fact that she had hurried out before he had +a chance to send in his card.</p> +<p>“No,” she answered. “Did you come in +that?”</p> +<p>She was looking at the taxi.</p> +<p>He nodded, and stood at the door, ready to +assist her in.</p> +<p>“Well, you may send it away now,” she informed +him.</p> +<p>“But––”</p> +<p>“I won’t go in it,” she insisted firmly.</p> +<p>“Afraid it will break down?”</p> +<p>“Are you going to send it away?”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_115' name='page_115'></a>115</span></div> +<p>Without further argument he paid the driver +and sent him off.</p> +<p>“It isn’t right to waste money like that,” +she told him.</p> +<p>“Oh, that was the trouble? But it wouldn’t +have cost more than a couple of dollars to have +gone back with him.”</p> +<p>“Two dollars! That’s carfare for three +weeks.”</p> +<p>“Of course, if you look at it that way. But +here we are away uptown, and––hanged if I +know how to get out.”</p> +<p>He looked around, as bewildered as a lost +child. She could not help laughing.</p> +<p>“If you’re as helpless as that I don’t see how +you ever get home at night,” she said.</p> +<p>He looked in every direction, but he did not +see a car line. He turned to her.</p> +<p>“I won’t help you,” she said, shaking her +head.</p> +<p>“Then we’ll have to walk until we come to +the Elevated,” he determined.</p> +<p>“All right,” she nodded. “Only, if you don’t +go in the right direction you will walk all night +before you come to the Elevated.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_116' name='page_116'></a>116</span></div> +<p>“I can ask some one, can’t I?”</p> +<p>“I certainly would before I walked very far.”</p> +<p>“Then I’m going to ask you.”</p> +<p>He raised his hat.</p> +<p>“I beg pardon, madame, but would you be +so good––”</p> +<p>“Oh, turn to the right,” she laughed. “And +do put on your hat.”</p> +<p>It was a quiet little French restaurant of +the better kind to which he took her––a place +he had stumbled on one evening, and to which +he occasionally went when the club menu did +not appeal to him. Jacques had reserved a +table in a corner, and had arranged there the +violets that Monsieur Pendleton had sent for +this purpose. On the whole, it was just as well +Miss Winthrop did not know this, or of the tip +that was to lead to a certain kind of salad and +to an extravagant dish with mushrooms to +come later. It is certain that Monsieur Pendleton +knew how to arrange a dinner from every +other but the economical end.</p> +<p>Don was very much himself to-night, and in +an exceedingly good humor. In no time he +made her also feel very much herself and put +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_117' name='page_117'></a>117</span> +her into an equally good humor. Her cares, her +responsibilities, her fears, vanished as quickly +as if the last three or four years had taught her +nothing. She had started with set lips, and +here she was with smiling ones. In the half-hour +that she waited in her room for him, she +had rehearsed a half-dozen set speeches; now +she did not recall one of them.</p> +<p>Don suggested wine, but she shook her head. +She had no need of wine. It was wine enough +just to be out of her room at night; wine enough +just to get away from the routine of her own +meals; wine enough just not to be alone; wine +enough just to get away from her own sex for +a little.</p> +<p>Don chatted on aimlessly through the anchovies, +the soup, and fish, and she enjoyed +listening to him. He was the embodiment of +youth, and he made even her feel like a care-free +girl of sixteen again. This showed in her +face, in the relaxed muscles about her mouth, +and in her brightened eyes.</p> +<p>Then, during the long wait for the steak and +mushrooms, his face became serious, and he +leaned across the table.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_118' name='page_118'></a>118</span></div> +<p>“By the way,” he began, “the house has received +a new allotment of bonds; I want to tell +you about them.”</p> +<p>He had his facts well in hand, and he spoke +with conviction and an unconventionality of +expression that made her listen. She knew a +good salesman when she heard one, whether +she was familiar with the particular subject-matter +or not. The quality of salesmanship +really had nothing to do with the subject-matter. +A good salesman can sell anything. +It has rather to do with that unknown gift +which distinguishes an actor able to pack a +house from an actor with every other quality +able only to half fill a house. It has nothing to +do with general intelligence; it has nothing to +do with conscientious preparation; it has nothing +to do with anything but itself. It corresponds +to what in a woman is called charm, and +which may go with a pug nose or freckles or a +large mouth. But it cannot be cultivated. It +either is or is not.</p> +<p>It was the mushrooms and steak that interrupted +him. Jacques was trying to draw his +attention to the sizzling hot platter which he +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_119' name='page_119'></a>119</span> +was holding for his inspection––a work of art +in brown and green. Ordinarily Monsieur +Pendleton took some time to appreciate his +efforts. Now he merely nodded:––</p> +<p>“Good.”</p> +<p>Jacques was somewhat disappointed.</p> +<p>“Madame sees it?” he ventured.</p> +<p>Madame, who was sitting with her chin +in her hands, staring across the table at Monsieur, +started.</p> +<p>“Yes,” she smiled. “It is beautiful.”</p> +<p>But, when Jacques turned away to carve, +she continued to stare again at Mr. Pendleton.</p> +<p>“It’s in you,” she exclaimed. “Oh, what a +chance you have!”</p> +<p>“You think I’ll do?”</p> +<p>“I think that in two years you’ll be outselling +any one in the office,” she answered.</p> +<p>His face flushed at the praise.</p> +<p>“That’s straight?”</p> +<p>“That’s straight,” she nodded. “And within +another year Farnsworth will pay you anything +you demand.”</p> +<p>“Ten thousand?”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_120' name='page_120'></a>120</span></div> +<p>“A gift like yours is worth that to the house––if +you don’t spoil it.”</p> +<p>“What do you mean by that?”</p> +<p>“Oh, I mean you must keep it fresh and +clean and free, and not mix it up with money,” +she ran on eagerly. “You must keep right on +selling for the fun of the game and not for the +gain. The gain will come fast enough. Don’t +worry about that. But if you make it the end, it +may make an end of your gift. And you mustn’t +get foolish with success. And you mustn’t––oh, +there are a hundred ways of spoiling it all.”</p> +<p>It was her apparent sure knowledge of these +things that constantly surprised him.</p> +<p>“How do you know?” he demanded.</p> +<p>“Because I’ve seen and heard. All I can do +is to stop, look, and listen, isn’t it?”</p> +<p>“And warn the speeders?” he laughed.</p> +<p>“If I could do that much it would be something,” +she answered wistfully.</p> +<p>“Will you warn me?”</p> +<p>“I’m warning you now.”</p> +<p>She met his eyes with a puzzled frown.</p> +<p>“I’ve seen a lot of men start right, but they +don’t stay right. Why don’t they?”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_121' name='page_121'></a>121</span></div> +<p>“But a lot of them do,” he answered.</p> +<p>“And they are the kind that just stay. I +hate that kind. I hate people who just stay. +That’s why I hate myself sometimes.”</p> +<p>He looked up at her quickly. It was the first +indication he had that she was not continually +in an unbroken state of calm content. He +caught her brown eyes grown suddenly full, +as if they themselves had been startled by the +unexpected exclamation.</p> +<p>“What’s that you said?” he demanded.</p> +<p>She tried to laugh, but she was still too +disconcerted to make it a successful effort. +She was not often goaded into as intimate a +confession as this.</p> +<p>“It isn’t worth repeating,” she answered +uneasily.</p> +<p>“You said you hated yourself sometimes.”</p> +<p>“The steak is very, very good,” she answered, +smiling.</p> +<p>“Then you aren’t hating yourself now?”</p> +<p>“No, no,” she replied quickly. “It’s only +when I get serious and––please don’t let’s be +serious.”</p> +<p>The rest of the dinner was very satisfactory, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_122' name='page_122'></a>122</span> +for he left her nothing to do but sit back and +enjoy herself. And he made her laugh, sharing +with him his laughter. It was half-past ten +when they arose and went out upon the street. +There she kept right on forgetting. It was +not until she stood in her room, half-undressed, +that she remembered she had not told Pendleton +that to-night was positively to bring +to an end this impossible friendship.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_123' name='page_123'></a>123</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XII_A_SOCIAL_WIDOW' id='CHAPTER_XII_A_SOCIAL_WIDOW'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XII</h2> +<h3>A SOCIAL WIDOW</h3> +</div> +<p>With the approach of the holiday season, +when pretty nearly every one comes back to +town, Frances found her engagements multiplying +so rapidly that it required a good deal +of tact and not a little arithmetic to keep them +from conflicting. In this emergency, when she +really needed Don, not only was he of no practical +help, but he further embarrassed her by +announcing a blanket refusal of all afternoon +engagements. This placed her in the embarrassing +position of being obliged to go alone +and then apologize for him.</p> +<p>“Poor Don is in business now,” was her stock +explanation.</p> +<p>She was irritated with Don for having placed +her in this position. In return for having surrendered +to him certain privileges, she had +expected him to fulfill certain obligations. If +she had promised to allow him to serve exclusively +as her social partner, then he should +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_124' name='page_124'></a>124</span> +have been at all times available. He had no +right to leave her a social widow––even when +he could not help it. As far as the afternoons +were concerned, the poor boy could not help +it––she knew that; but, even so, why should +her winter be broken up by what some one +else could not help?</p> +<p>She had given her consent to Don, not to +a business man. As Don he had been delightful. +No girl could ask to have a more attentive +and thoughtful fiancé than he had been. +He allowed her to make all his engagements for +him, and he never failed her. He was the only +man she knew who could sit through a tea +without appearing either silly or bored. And he +was nice––but not too nice––to all her girl +friends, so that most of them were jealous of her. +Decidedly, she had had nothing to complain of.</p> +<p>And she had not complained, even when he +announced that he was penniless. This did +not affect her feeling toward Don himself. It +was something of a nuisance, but, after all, +a matter of no great consequence. She had +no doubt he could make all the money he +wanted, just as her father had done.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_125' name='page_125'></a>125</span></div> +<p>But of late it had been increasingly difficult +to persuade him, on account of business, to +fulfill even his evening engagements. He was +constantly reminding her of bonds and things +that he must study. Well, if it was necessary +for him to study bonds and things, he should +find some way of doing it that would not interfere +with her plans.</p> +<p>The climax came when he asked to be excused +from the Moore cotillion because he had +three other dances for that week.</p> +<p>“You see,” he explained, “Farnsworth is +going to let me go out and sell as soon as I’m +fit, and so I’m putting in a lot of extra time.”</p> +<p>“Who is Farnsworth?” she inquired.</p> +<p>“Why, he’s the general manager. I’ve told +you about him.”</p> +<p>“I remember now. But, Don dear, you +aren’t going to <i>sell</i> things?”</p> +<p>“You bet I am,” he answered enthusiastically. +“All I’m waiting for is a chance.”</p> +<p>“But what do you sell?” she inquired.</p> +<p>“Investment securities.”</p> +<p>He seemed rather pleased that she was showing +so much interest.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_126' name='page_126'></a>126</span></div> +<p>“You see, the house buys a batch of securities +wholesale and then sells them at retail––just +as a grocer does.”</p> +<p>“Don!”</p> +<p>“It’s the same thing,” he nodded.</p> +<p>“Then I should call it anything but an attractive +occupation.”</p> +<p>“That’s because you don’t understand. +You see, here’s a man with some extra money +to invest. Now, when you go to him, maybe +he has something else in mind to do with that +money. What you have to do––”</p> +<p>“Please don’t go into details, Don,” she interrupted. +“You know I wouldn’t understand.”</p> +<p>“If you’d just let me explain once,” he urged.</p> +<p>“It would only irritate me,” she warned. +“I’m sure it would only furnish you with another +reason why you shouldn’t go about as +much as you do.”</p> +<p>“It would,” he agreed. “That’s why I want +to make it clear. Don’t you see that if I keep +at this for a few years––”</p> +<p>“Years?” she gasped.</p> +<p>“Well, until I get my ten thousand.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_127' name='page_127'></a>127</span></div> +<p>“But I thought you were planning to have +that by next fall at the latest.”</p> +<p>“I’m going to try,” he answered. “I’m going +to try hard. But, somehow, it doesn’t look +as easy as it did before I started. I didn’t understand +what a man has to know before he’s +worth all that money.”</p> +<p>“I’m sure I don’t find ten thousand to be +very much,” she observed.</p> +<p>“Perhaps it isn’t much to spend,” he admitted, +“but it’s a whole lot to earn. I know +a bunch of men who don’t earn it.”</p> +<p>“Then they must be very stupid.”</p> +<p>“No; but somehow dollars look bigger downtown +than they do uptown. Why, I know a +little restaurant down there where a dollar +looks as big as ten.”</p> +<p>“Don, dear, you’re living too much downtown,” +she exclaimed somewhat petulantly. +“You don’t realize it, but you are. It’s making +you different––and I don’t want you +different. I want you just as you used to be.”</p> +<p>She fell back upon a straight appeal––an +appeal of eyes and arms and lips.</p> +<p>“I miss you awfully in the afternoons,” she +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_128' name='page_128'></a>128</span> +went on, “but I’ll admit that can’t be helped. +I’ll give up that much of you. But after dinner +I claim you. You’re mine after dinner, Don.”</p> +<p>She was very tender and beautiful in this +mood. When he saw her like this, nothing else +seemed to matter. There was no downtown or +uptown; there was only she. There was nothing +to do but stoop and kiss her eager lips. +Which is exactly what he did.</p> +<p>For a moment she allowed it, and then with +an excited laugh freed herself.</p> +<p>“Please to give me one of your cards, Don,” +she said.</p> +<p>He handed her a card, and she wrote upon +it this:––</p> +<p>“<i>December sixteenth, Moore cotillion</i>.”</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_129' name='page_129'></a>129</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XIII_DEAR_SIR' id='CHAPTER_XIII_DEAR_SIR'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XIII</h2> +<h3>DEAR SIR––</h3> +</div> +<p>Don never had an opportunity to test his +knowledge of the bonds about which he had +laboriously acquired so much information, because +within the next week all these offerings +had been sold and their places taken by new +securities. These contained an entirely different +set of figures. It seemed to him that all his +previous work was wasted. He must begin +over again; and, as far as he could see, he must +keep on beginning over again indefinitely. He +felt that Farnsworth had deprived him of an +opportunity, and this had the effect of considerably +dampening his enthusiasm.</p> +<p>Then, too, during December and most of +January Frances kept him very busy. He had +never seen her so gay or so beautiful. She +was like a fairy sprite ever dancing to dizzy +music. He followed her in a sort of daze from +dinner to dance, until the strains of music +whirled through his head all day long.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_130' name='page_130'></a>130</span></div> +<p>The more he saw of her, the more he desired +of her. In Christmas week, when every +evening was filled and he was with her from +eight in the evening until two and three and +four the next morning, he would glance at his +watch every ten minutes during the following +day. The hours from nine to five were interminable. +He wandered restlessly about the +office, picking up paper and circular, only to +drop them after an uneasy minute or two. The +entire office staff faded into the background. +Even Miss Winthrop receded until she became +scarcely more than a figure behind a typewriter. +When he was sent out by Farnsworth, +he made as long an errand of it as he could. +He was gone an hour, or an hour and a half, on +commissions that should not have taken half +the time.</p> +<p>It was the week of the Moore cotillion that +Miss Winthrop observed the change in him. +She took it to be a natural enough reaction +and had half-expected it. There were very few +men, her observation had told her, who could +sustain themselves at their best for any length +of time. This was an irritating fact, but being +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_131' name='page_131'></a>131</span> +a fact had to be accepted. As a man he was +entitled to an off day or two––possibly to an +off week.</p> +<p>But when the second and third and fourth +week passed without any notable improvement +in him, Miss Winthrop became worried.</p> +<p>“You ought to put him wise,” she ventured +to suggest to Powers.</p> +<p>“I?” Powers had inquired.</p> +<p>“Well, he seems like a pretty decent sort,” +she answered indifferently.</p> +<p>“So he is,” admitted Powers, with an indifference +that was decidedly more genuine +than her own. It was quite clear that Powers’s +interest went no further. He had a wife and +two children and his own ambitions.</p> +<p>For a long time she saw no more of him +than she saw of Blake. He nodded a good-morning +when he came in, and then seemed to +lose himself until noon. Where he lunched she +did not know. For a while she had rather +looked for him, and then, to cure herself of +that, had changed her own luncheon place. +At night he generally hurried out early––a +bad practice in itself: at least once, Farnsworth +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_132' name='page_132'></a>132</span> +had wanted him for something after he was +gone; he had made no comment, but it was the +sort of thing Farnsworth remembered. When, +on the very next day, Mr. Pendleton started +home still earlier, it had required a good deal +of self-control on her part not to stop him. But +she did not stop him. For one thing, Blake +was at his desk at the time.</p> +<p>It was a week later that Miss Winthrop was +called into the private office of Mr. Seagraves +one afternoon. His own stenographer had been +taken ill, and he wished her to finish the day. +She took half a dozen letters, and then waited +while Farnsworth came in for a confidential +consultation upon some business matters. It +was as the latter was leaving that Mr. Seagraves +called him back.</p> +<p>“How is Pendleton getting along?” he inquired.</p> +<p>Miss Winthrop felt her heart stop for a beat +or two. She bent over her notebook to conceal +the color that was burning her cheeks. For an +impersonal observer she realized they showed +too much.</p> +<p>“I think he has ability,” Farnsworth answered +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_133' name='page_133'></a>133</span> +slowly. “He began well, but he has let +down a little lately.”</p> +<p>“That’s too bad,” answered Mr. Seagraves. +“I thought he would make a good man for us.”</p> +<p>“I can tell better in another month,” Mr. +Farnsworth answered.</p> +<p>“We need another selling man,” declared +Mr. Seagraves.</p> +<p>“We do,” nodded Farnsworth. “I have my +eye on several we can get if Pendleton doesn’t +develop.”</p> +<p>“That’s good. Ready, Miss Winthrop.”</p> +<p>The thing Miss Winthrop had to decide that +night was whether she should allow Mr. Pendleton +to stumble on to his doom or take it +upon herself to warn him. She was forced to +carry that problem home with her, and eat +supper with it, and give up her evening to it. +Whenever she thought of it from that point of +view, she grew rebellious and lost her temper. +There was not a single sound argument why +her time and her thought should be thus monopolized +by Mr. Pendleton.</p> +<p>She had already done what she could for him, +and it had not amounted to a row of pins. She +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_134' name='page_134'></a>134</span> +had told him to go to bed at night, so that he +could get up in the morning fresh, and he had +not done it. She had advised him to hustle +whenever he was on an errand for Farnsworth, +and of late he had loafed. She had told +him to keep up to the minute on the current +investments the house was offering, and to-day +he probably could not have told even the names +of half of them. No one could argue that it +was her duty to keep after him every minute––as +if he belonged to her.</p> +<p>And then, in spite of herself, her thoughts +went back to the private office of Mr. Seagraves. +She recalled the expression on the faces +of the two men––an expression denoting only +the most fleeting interest in the problem of Mr. +Pendleton. If he braced up, well and good; if +he did not, then it was only a question of selecting +some one else. It was Pendleton’s affair, +not theirs.</p> +<p>That was what every one thought except +Pendleton himself––who did not think at all, +because he did not know. And if no one told +him, then he would never know. Some day +Mr. Farnsworth would call him into the office +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_135' name='page_135'></a>135</span> +and inform him his services were no longer +needed. He would not tell him why, even if +Don inquired. So, with everything almost +within his grasp, Pendleton would go. Of +course, he might land another place; but it +was no easy thing to find the second opportunity, +having failed in the first.</p> +<p>Yet this was all so unnecessary. Mr. Pendleton +had in him everything Farnsworth +wanted. If the latter could have heard him +talk as she had heard him talk, he would have +known this. Farnsworth ought to send him +out of the office––let him get among men +where he could talk. And that would come +only if Mr. Pendleton could hold on here long +enough. Then he <i>must</i> hold on. He must cut +out his late hours and return to his old schedule. +She must get hold of him and tell him. +But how?</p> +<p>The solution came the next morning. She +decided that if she had any spare time during +the day she would write him what she had to +say. When she saw him drift in from lunch at +twenty minutes past one, she took the time +without further ado. She snatched a sheet of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_136' name='page_136'></a>136</span> +office paper, rolled it into the machine, snapped +the carriage into position, and began.</p> +<blockquote> +<p class='lalign'><span class='smcap'>MR. DONALD PENDLETON</span>,<br /> +<span class='indent4'> </span>Care Carter, Rand & Seagraves,<br /> +<span class='indent8'> </span>New York, N.Y.</p> +<p><i>Dear Sir</i>:––</p> +<p>Of course it is none of my business whether you +get fired or not; but, even if it isn’t, I like to see +a man have fair warning. Farnsworth doesn’t +think that way. He gives a man all the rope he +wants and lets him hang himself. That is just +what he’s doing with you. I had a tip straight +from the inside the other day that if you keep on +as you have for the last six weeks you will last +here just about another month. That isn’t a +guess, either; it’s right from headquarters.</p> +<p>For all I know, this is what you want; but if it +is, I’d rather resign on my own account than be +asked to resign. It looks better, and helps you +with the next job. Most men downtown have a +prejudice against a man who has been fired.</p> +<p>You needn’t ask me where I got my information, +because I won’t tell you. I’ve no business to +tell you this much. What you want to remember +is that Farnsworth knows every time you get in +from lunch twenty minutes late, as you did to-day; +and he knows when you get in late in the +morning, as you have eleven times now; and he +knows when you take an hour and a half for a +half-hour errand, as you have seven times; and he +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_137' name='page_137'></a>137</span> +knows when you’re in here half-dead, as you’ve +been all the time; and he knows what you don’t +know about what you ought to know. And no one +has to tell him, either. He gets it by instinct.</p> +<p>So you needn’t say no one warned you, and +please don’t expect me to tell you anything more, +because I don’t know anything more. I am,</p> +<p class='ralign'>Respectfully yours,<span class='rindent8'> </span><br /> +<span class='smcap'>SARAH K. WINTHROP</span>.<span class='rindent2'> </span></p> +</blockquote> +<p>She addressed this to the Harvard Club, +and posted it that night on her way home. It +freed her of a certain responsibility, and so +helped her to enjoy a very good dinner.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_138' name='page_138'></a>138</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XIV_IN_REPLY' id='CHAPTER_XIV_IN_REPLY'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XIV</h2> +<h3>IN REPLY</h3> +</div> +<p>Don did not receive Miss Winthrop’s letter +until the following evening. He had dropped +into the club to join Wadsworth in a bracer,––a +habit he had drifted into this last month,––and +opened the envelope with indifferent interest, +expecting a tailor’s announcement. He +caught his breath at the first line, and then read +the letter through some five times. Wadsworth, +who was waiting politely, grew impatient.</p> +<p>“If you’re trying to learn that by heart––” +he began.</p> +<p>Don thrust the letter into his pocket.</p> +<p>“I beg your pardon,” he apologized. “It––it +was rather important.”</p> +<p>They sat down in the lounge.</p> +<p>“What’s yours?” inquired Wadsworth, as in +response to a bell a page came up.</p> +<p>“A little French vichy,” answered Don.</p> +<p>“Oh, have a real drink,” Wadsworth urged.</p> +<p>“I think I’d better not to-night,” answered +Don.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_139' name='page_139'></a>139</span></div> +<p>Wadsworth ordered a cock-tail for himself.</p> +<p>“How’s the market to-day?” he inquired. +He always inquired how the market was of his +business friends––as one inquires as to the +health of an elderly person.</p> +<p>“I don’t know,” answered Don.</p> +<p>“You don’t mean to say you’ve cut out business?” +exclaimed Wadsworth.</p> +<p>“I guess I have,” Don answered vaguely.</p> +<p>“Think of retiring?”</p> +<p>“To tell the truth, I hadn’t thought of it +until very lately; but now––”</p> +<p>Don restrained a desire to read his letter +through once more.</p> +<p>“Take my advice and do it,” nodded Wadsworth. +“Nothing in it but a beastly grind. +It’s pulling on you.”</p> +<p>As a matter of fact, Don had lost some five +pounds in the last month, and it showed in his +face. But it was not business which had done +that, and he knew it. Also Miss Winthrop +knew it.</p> +<p>It was certainly white of her to take the +trouble to write to him like this. He wondered +why she did. She had not been very much in +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_140' name='page_140'></a>140</span> +his thoughts of late, and he took it for granted +that to the same degree he had been absent +from hers. And here she had been keeping +count of every time he came in late. Curious +that she should have done that!</p> +<p>In the library, he took out the letter and read +it through again. Heavens, he could not allow +himself to be discharged like an unfaithful +office-boy! His father would turn in his grave. +It would be almost as bad as being discharged +for dishonesty.</p> +<p>Don’s lips came together in thin lines. This +would never do––never in the world. As Miss +Winthrop suggested, he had much better resign. +Perhaps he ought to resign, anyway. No matter +what he might do in the future, he could not redeem +the past; and if Farnsworth felt he had +not been playing the game right, he ought to +take the matter in his own hands and get off the +team. But, in a way, that would be quitting––and +the Pendletons had never been quitters. It +would be quitting, both inside the office and +out. He had to have that salary to live on. +Without it, life would become a very serious +matter. The more he thought of this, the more +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_141' name='page_141'></a>141</span> +he realized that resigning was out of the question. +He really had no alternative but to make +good; so he <i>would</i> make good.</p> +<p>The resolution, in itself, was enough to brace +him. The important thing now was, not to +make Carter, Rand & Seagraves understand +this, not to make Farnsworth understand this: +it was to make Miss Winthrop understand it. +He seized a pen and began to write.</p> +<blockquote> +<p><span class='smcap'>MY DEAR SARAH K. WINTHROP</span> [he began]:––</p> +<p>Farnsworth ought to be sitting at your desk +plugging that machine, and you ought to be holding +down his chair before the roll-top desk. You’d +get more work out of every man in the office in a +week than he does in a month. Maybe he knows +more about bonds than you do, but he doesn’t +know as much about men. If he did he’d have +waded into me just the way you did.</p> +<p>I’m not saying Farnsworth hasn’t good cause +to fire me. He has, and that’s just what you’ve +made clear. But, honest and hope to die, I didn’t +realize it until I read your letter. I knew I’d been +getting in late and all that; but, as long as it +didn’t seem to make any difference to any one, I +couldn’t see the harm in it. I’d probably have +kept on doing it if you hadn’t warned me. And +I’d have been fired, and deserved it.</p> +<p>If that had happened I think my father would +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_142' name='page_142'></a>142</span> +have risen from his grave long enough to come +back and disown me. He was the sort of man I +have a notion you’d have liked. He’d be down to +the office before the doors were open, and he’d +stay until some one put him out. I guess he was +born that way. But I don’t believe he ever stayed +up after ten o’clock at night in his life. Maybe +there wasn’t as much doing in New York after +ten in those days as there is now.</p> +<p>I don’t want to make any excuses, but, true as +you’re living, if I turned in at ten I might just as +well set up business in the Fiji Islands. It’s about +that time the evening really begins. How do you +work it yourself? I wish you’d tell me how you +get in on time, looking fresh as a daisy. And what +sort of an alarm-clock do you use? I bought one +the other day as big as a snare-drum, and the +thing never made a dent. Then I tried having +Nora call me, but I only woke up long enough to +tell her to get out and went to sleep again. If your +system isn’t patented I wish you’d tell me what +it is. In the mean while, I’m going to sit up all +night if I can’t get up any other way.</p> +<p>Because I’m going to make the office of Carter, +Rand & Seagraves on time, beginning to-morrow +morning. You watch me. And I’ll make up for +the time I’ve overdrawn on lunches by getting +back in twenty minutes after this. As for errands––you +take the time when Farnsworth sends me +out again.</p> +<p>You’re dead right in all you said, and if I can’t +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_143' name='page_143'></a>143</span> +make good in the next few months I won’t wait +for Farnsworth to fire me––I’ll fire myself. But +that isn’t going to happen. The livest man in +that office is going to be</p> +<p class='ralign'>Yours truly,<span class='rindent14'> </span><br /> +<span class='smcap'>Donald Pendleton, Jr.</span><span class='rindent2'> </span></p> +</blockquote> +<p>Don addressed the letter to the office, mailed +it, and went home to dress. But before going +upstairs he called to Nora.</p> +<p>“Nora,” he said, “you know that I’m in +business now?”</p> +<p>“Yes, sir.”</p> +<p>“And you wouldn’t like to see me fired, +would you?”</p> +<p>“Oh, Lord, sir!” gasped Nora.</p> +<p>“Then you get me up to-morrow morning at +seven o’clock, because if I’m late again that is +just what is going to happen. And you know +what Dad would say to that.”</p> +<p>The next morning Don stepped briskly into +the office five minutes ahead of Miss Winthrop.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_144' name='page_144'></a>144</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XV_COST' id='CHAPTER_XV_COST'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XV</h2> +<h3>COST</h3> +</div> +<p>It was quite evident that Farnsworth had +something in mind; for, beginning that week, he +assigned Don to a variety of new tasks––to +checking and figuring and copying, sometimes +at the ticker, sometimes in the cashier’s cage of +the bond department, sometimes on the curb. +For the most part, it was dull, uninspiring +drudgery of a clerical nature, and it got on +Don’s nerves. Within a month he had reached +the conclusion that this was nothing short of a +conspiracy on Farnsworth’s part to tempt him +to resign. It had the effect of making him hold +on all the more tenaciously. He did his work +conscientiously, and––with his lips a little +more tightly set than was his custom––kept +his own counsel.</p> +<p>He had no alternative. His new work gave +him little opportunity to talk with Miss Winthrop, +and she was the one person in the world +in whom he felt he could confide safely and at +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_145' name='page_145'></a>145</span> +length. She herself was very busy. Mr. Seagraves, +having accidentally discovered her ability, +was now employing her more and more in +his private office.</p> +<p>It was about this time that a lot of petty outside +matters came up, further to vex him. Up +to this point Don’s wardrobe had held out fairly +well; but it was a fact that he needed a new +business suit, and a number of tailors were +thoughtfully reminding him that, with March +approaching, it was high time he began to consider +seriously his spring and summer outfit. +Until now such details had given him scarcely +more concern than the question of food in his +daily life. Some three or four times a year, at +any convenient opportunity, he strolled into his +tailor’s and examined samples at his leisure. +Always recognizing at sight just what he +wanted, no great mental strain was involved. +He had merely to wave his cigarette toward any +pleasing cloth, mention the number of buttons +desired on coat and waistcoat, and the matter +was practically done.</p> +<p>But when Graustein & Company announced +to him their new spring importations, and he +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_146' name='page_146'></a>146</span> +dropped in there one morning on his way downtown, +he recognized the present necessity of +considering the item of cost. It was distinctly +a disturbing and embarrassing necessity, which +Mr. Graustein did nothing to soften. He looked +his surprise when Don, in as casual a fashion as +possible, inquired:––</p> +<p>“What will you charge for making up this?”</p> +<p>“But you have long had an account with +us!” he exclaimed. “Here is something here, +Mr. Pendleton,––an exclusive weave.”</p> +<p>“No,” answered Don firmly; “I don’t want +that. But this other––you said you’d make +that for how much?”</p> +<p>Graustein appeared injured. He waved his +hand carelessly.</p> +<p>“Eighty dollars,” he replied. “You really +need two more, and I’ll make the three for two +hundred.”</p> +<p>“Thanks. I will tell you when to go ahead.”</p> +<p>“We like to have plenty of time on your +work, Mr. Pendleton,” said Graustein.</p> +<p>Two hundred dollars! Once upon the street +again, Don caught his breath. His bill at +Graustein’s had often amounted to three times +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_147' name='page_147'></a>147</span> +that, but it had not then come out of a salary of +twenty-five dollars a week. Without extra expenses +he seldom had more than a dollar left on +Saturday. By the strictest economy, he figured, +it might be possible to save five. To pay a bill of +two hundred dollars would at that rate require +forty working weeks. By then the clothes +would be worn out.</p> +<p>It was facts like these that brought home to +Don how little he was earning, and that made +that ten-thousand-dollar salary appear like an +actual necessity. It was facts like these that +helped him to hold on.</p> +<p>But it was also facts like these that called his +attention to this matter of cost in other directions. +Within the next two months, one item +after another of his daily life became reduced +to figures, until he lived in a world fairly bristling +with price-tags. Collars were so much +apiece, cravats so much apiece, waistcoats and +shoes and hats so much. As he passed store +windows the price-tags were the first thing he +saw. It seemed that everything was labeled, +even such articles of common household use as +bed-linen, chairs and tables, carpets and draperies. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_148' name='page_148'></a>148</span> +When they were not, he entered and +asked the prices. It became a passion with him +to learn the cost of things.</p> +<p>It was toward the middle of May that +Frances first mentioned a possible trip abroad +that summer.</p> +<p>“Dolly Seagraves is going, and wishes me to +go with her,” she announced.</p> +<p>“It will take a lot of money,” he said.</p> +<p>“What do you mean, Don?”</p> +<p>One idle evening he had figured the cost of +the wedding trip they had proposed. He estimated +it at three years’ salary.</p> +<p>“Well, the tickets and hotel bills––” he +began.</p> +<p>“But, Don, dear,” she protested mildly, “I +don’t expect you to pay my expenses.”</p> +<p>“I wish to Heavens I could, and go with +you!”</p> +<p>“We had planned on June, hadn’t we?” she +smiled.</p> +<p>“On June,” he nodded.</p> +<p>She patted his arm.</p> +<p>“Dear old Don! Well, I think a fall wedding +would be nicer, anyway. And Dolly has an +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_149' name='page_149'></a>149</span> +English cousin or something who may have us +introduced at court. What do you think of +that?”</p> +<p>“I’d rather have you right here. I thought +after the season here I might be able to see +more of you.”</p> +<p>“Nonsense! You don’t think we’d stay in +town all summer? Don, dear, I think you’re +getting a little selfish.”</p> +<p>“Well, you’d be in town part of the summer.”</p> +<p>She shook her head.</p> +<p>“We shall sail early, in order to have some +gowns made. But if you could meet us there for +a few weeks––you do have a vacation, don’t +you?”</p> +<p>“Two weeks, I think.”</p> +<p>“Oh, dear, then you can’t.”</p> +<p>“Holy smoke, do you know what a first-class +passage costs?”</p> +<p>“I don’t want to know. Then you couldn’t +go, anyway, could you?”</p> +<p>“Hardly.”</p> +<p>“Shall you miss me?”</p> +<p>“Yes.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_150' name='page_150'></a>150</span></div> +<p>“That will be nice, and I shall send you a +card every day.”</p> +<p>“Good Heavens!” he exclaimed. “If your +father would only go broke before then. If only +he would!”</p> +<p>Stuyvesant did not go broke, and Frances +sailed on the first of June. Don went to the +boat to see her off, and the band on the deck +played tunes that brought lumps to his throat. +Then the hoarse whistle boomed huskily, and +from the Hoboken sheds he watched her until +she faded into nothing but a speck of waving +white handkerchief. In twenty minutes he +was back again in the office of Carter, Rand & +Seagraves––back again to sheets of little +figures with dollar signs before them. These he +read off to Speyer, who in turn pressed the +proper keys on the adding-machine––an endless, +tedious, irritating task. The figures ran to +hundreds, to thousands, to tens of thousands.</p> +<p>Nothing could have been more uninteresting, +nothing more meaningless. He could not even +visualize the sums as money. It was like adding +so many columns of the letter “s.” And yet, it +was the accident of an unfair distribution of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_151' name='page_151'></a>151</span> +these same dollar signs that accounted for the +fact that Frances was now sailing out of New +York harbor, while he remained here before this +desk.</p> +<p>They represented the week’s purchase of +bonds, and if the name “Pendleton, Jr.,” had +appeared at the head of any of the accounts he +might have been by her side.</p> +<p>Something seemed wrong about that. Had +she been a steam yacht he could have understood +it. Much as he might have desired a +steam yacht, he would have accepted cheerfully +the fact that he did not have the wherewithal to +purchase it. He would have felt no sense of +injustice. But it scarcely seemed decent to consider +Frances from this point of view, though a +certain parallel could be drawn: her clean-cut +lines, her nicety of finish, a certain air of silver +and mahogany about her, affording a basis of +comparison; but this was from the purely artistic +side. One couldn’t very well go further +and estimate the relative initial cost and +amount for upkeep without doing the girl an +injustice. After all, there was a distinction +between a gasolene engine and a heart, no +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_152' name='page_152'></a>152</span> +matter how close an analogy physicians might +draw.</p> +<p>And yet, the only reason he was not now with +her was solely a detail of bookkeeping. It was +a matter of such fundamental inconsequence as +the amount of his salary. He was separated +from her by a single cipher.</p> +<p>But that cipher had nothing whatever to do +with his regard for her. It had played no part +in his first meeting with her, or in the subsequent +meetings, when frank admiration had developed +into an ardent attachment. It had nothing +to do with the girl herself, as he had seen +her for the moment he succeeded in isolating +her in a corner of the upper deck before she +sailed. It had nothing to do with certain moments +at the piano when she sang for him. It +had nothing to do with her eyes, as he had seen +them that night she had consented to marry +him. To be sure, these were only detached +moments which were not granted him often; +but he had a conviction that they stood for +something deeper in her than the everyday +moments.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_153' name='page_153'></a>153</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XVI_A_MEMORANDUM' id='CHAPTER_XVI_A_MEMORANDUM'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XVI</h2> +<h3>A MEMORANDUM</h3> +</div> +<p>During that next week Don found a great +deal of time in which to think. He was surprised +at how much time he had. It was as if +the hours in the day were doubled. Where +before he seldom had more than time to hurry +home and dress for his evening engagements, he +now found that, even when he walked home, he +was left with four or five idle hours on his hands.</p> +<p>If a man is awake and hasn’t anything else +to do, he must think. He began by thinking +about Frances, and wondering what she was +doing, until young Schuyler intruded himself,––Schuyler, +as it happened, had taken the same +boat, having been sent abroad to convalesce +from typhoid,––and after that there was not +much satisfaction in wondering what she was +doing. He knew how sympathetic Frances +was, and how good she would be to Schuyler +under these circumstances. Not that he mistrusted +her in the least––she was not the kind +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_154' name='page_154'></a>154</span> +to lose her head and forget. But, at the same +time, it did not make him feel any the less lonesome +to picture them basking in the sun on the +deck of a liner while he was adding innumerable +little figures beneath an electric light in the rear +of the cashier’s cage in a downtown office. It +did not do him any good whatever.</p> +<p>However, the conclusion of such uneasy +wondering was to force him back to a study of +the investment securities of Carter, Rand & +Seagraves. Right or wrong, the ten thousand +was necessary, and he must get it. On the +whole, this had a wholesome effect. For the +next few weeks he doubled his energies in +the office. That this counted was proved by +a penciled note which he received at the club +one evening:––</p> +<blockquote> +<p><span class='smcap'>Mr. Donald Pendleton.</span></p> +<p><span class='smcap'>Dear Sir:––</span></p> +<p>You’re making good, and Farnsworth knows it.</p> +<p class='ralign'>Sincerely yours,<span class='rindent16'> </span><br /> +<span class='smcap'>Sarah Kendall Winthrop</span>.<span class='rindent2'> </span></p> +</blockquote> +<p>To hear from her like this was like meeting +an old friend upon the street. It seemed to say +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_155' name='page_155'></a>155</span> +that in all these last three weeks, when he +thought he was occupying the city of New +York all by himself, she, as a matter of fact, +had been sharing it with him. She too had +been doing her daily work and going home +at night, where presumably she ate her dinner +and lived through the long evenings right +here in the same city. He seldom caught a +glimpse of her even in the office now, for +Seagraves took all her time. Her desk had +been moved into his office. Yet, she had been +here all the while. It made him feel decidedly +more comfortable.</p> +<p>The next day at lunch-time Don waited outside +the office for her, and, unseen by her, +trailed her to her new egg sandwich place. He +waited until she had had time to order, and +then walked in as if quite by accident. She was +seated, as usual, in the farthest corner.</p> +<p>“Why, hello,” he greeted her.</p> +<p>She looked up in some confusion. For several +days she had watched the entrance of every +arrival, half-expecting to see him stride in. But +she no longer did that, and had fallen back into +the habit of eating her lunch quite oblivious of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_156' name='page_156'></a>156</span> +all the rest of the world. Now it seemed like +picking up the thread of an old story, and she +was not quite sure she desired this.</p> +<p>“Hello,” he repeated.</p> +<p>“Hello,” she answered.</p> +<p>There was an empty seat next to hers.</p> +<p>“Will you hold that for me?” he asked.</p> +<p>“They don’t let you reserve seats here,” she +told him.</p> +<p>“Then I guess I’d better not take a chance,” +he said, as he sat down in it.</p> +<p>He had not changed any in the last few +months.</p> +<p>“Do you expect me to go and get your lunch +for you?” she inquired.</p> +<p>“No,” he assured her. “I don’t expect to +get any lunch.”</p> +<p>She hesitated.</p> +<p>“I was mighty glad to get your note,” he +went on. “I was beginning to think I’d got lost +in the shuffle.”</p> +<p>“You thought Mr. Farnsworth had forgotten +you?”</p> +<p>“I sure did. I hadn’t laid eyes on him for a +week.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_157' name='page_157'></a>157</span></div> +<p>“Mr. Farnsworth never forgets,” she answered.</p> +<p>“How about the others?”</p> +<p>“There isn’t any one else worth speaking of +in that office.”</p> +<p>“How about you?”</p> +<p>“I’m one of those not worth speaking of,” +she replied.</p> +<p>She met his eyes steadily.</p> +<p>“Seagraves doesn’t seem to feel that way. +He keeps you in there all the time now.”</p> +<p>“The way he does his office desk,” she +nodded. “You’d better get your lunch.”</p> +<p>“I’ll lose my chair.”</p> +<p>“Oh, get your sandwich; I’ll hold the chair +for you,” she answered impatiently.</p> +<p>He rose immediately, and soon came back +with his plate and coffee-cup.</p> +<p>“Do you know I haven’t had one of these +things or a chocolate éclair since the last time I +was in one of these places with you?”</p> +<p>“What <i>have</i> you been eating?”</p> +<p>“Doughnuts and coffee, mostly.”</p> +<p>“That isn’t nearly so good for you,” she +declared.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_158' name='page_158'></a>158</span></div> +<p>He adjusted himself comfortably.</p> +<p>“This is like getting back home,” he said.</p> +<p>“Home?”</p> +<p>She spoke the word with a frightened, cynical +laugh.</p> +<p>“Well, it’s more like home than eating alone +at the other places,” he said.</p> +<p>“They are all alike,” she returned––“just +places in which to eat.”</p> +<p>She said it with some point, but he did not +see the point. He took a bite of his egg sandwich.</p> +<p>“Honest, this tastes pretty good,” he assured +her.</p> +<p>He was eating with a relish and satisfaction +that he had not known for a long time. It was +clear that the credit for this was due in some +way to Sarah Kendall Winthrop, though that +was an equally curious phenomenon. Except +that he had, or assumed, the privilege of talking +to her, she was scarcely as intimate a feature of +his life as Nora.</p> +<p>“How do you like your new work?” she +inquired.</p> +<p>“It’s fierce,” he answered. “It’s mostly +arithmetic.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_159' name='page_159'></a>159</span></div> +<p>“It all helps,” she said. “All you have to do +now is just to keep at it. Keeping posted on the +bonds?”</p> +<p>“Yes. But as fast as I learn a new one, it’s +sold.”</p> +<p>“That’s all right,” she answered. “The more +you learn, the better. Some day Mr. Farnsworth +will call you in and turn you loose on +your friends.”</p> +<p>“You think so?”</p> +<p>“I know it, if you keep going. But you can’t +let up––not for one day.”</p> +<p>“If I can only last through the summer,” +he reflected aloud. “Have you ever spent a +summer in town?”</p> +<p>“Where else would I spend a summer?” she +inquired.</p> +<p>“I like the mountains myself. Ever been to +Fabyan House?”</p> +<p>She looked to see if he was joking. He was +not. He had spent the last three summers very +pleasantly in the White Mountains.</p> +<p>“No,” she answered. “A ten-cent trolley +trip is my limit.”</p> +<p>“Where?”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_160' name='page_160'></a>160</span></div> +<p>“Anywhere I can find trees or water. You +can get quite a trip right in Central Park, and +it’s good fun to watch the kiddies getting an +airing.”</p> +<p>There was a note in her voice that made him +turn his head toward her. The color sprang +to her cheeks.</p> +<p>“It’s time I was getting back,” she announced +as she rose. “This is Mr. Seagraves’s +busy day.”</p> +<p>“But look here; I haven’t finished my +éclair!”</p> +<p>“Then you’d better devote the next five minutes +to that,” she advised.</p> +<p>She disappeared through the door, and in +another second was blended with a thousand +others.</p> +<p>Don drew out his memorandum book and +made the following entry:––</p> +<p>“Visit Central Park some day and watch +the kiddies.”</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_161' name='page_161'></a>161</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XVII_ON_THE_WAY_HOME' id='CHAPTER_XVII_ON_THE_WAY_HOME'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XVII</h2> +<h3>ON THE WAY HOME</h3> +</div> +<p>Frances wrote him enthusiastically from London. +In her big, sprawling handwriting the +letter covered eight pages. Toward the end +she added:––</p> +<p>I miss you quite a lot, Don, dear, especially on +foggy days. Please don’t work too hard, and +remember that I am, as always,</p> +<blockquote> +<p>Your <span class='smcap'>FRANCES</span>.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Well, that was something to know––that +she was always his, even in London. London +was a long way from New York, and of +course he could not expect her to go abroad +and then spend all her time writing to him. +He went up to the club after reading this, and +wrote her a letter twenty pages long. It was a +very sentimental letter, but it did him good. +The next day he returned to the office decidedly +refreshed. In fact, he put in one of the +best weeks there since he had taken his position. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_162' name='page_162'></a>162</span> +When Saturday came he was sorry that +it was a half-holiday: he would have liked to +work even through Sunday.</p> +<p>He left the office that day at a little before +twelve, and stood on the corner waiting for +Miss Winthrop. They had lunched together +every day during the week; but he had not +mentioned meeting her to-day, because he had +come to the conclusion that the only successful +way to do that was to capture her. So she +came out quite jauntily and confidently, and +almost ran into him as he raised his hat.</p> +<p>She glanced about uneasily.</p> +<p>“Please––we mustn’t stand here.”</p> +<p>“Then I’ll walk a little way with you.”</p> +<p>So he accompanied her to the Elevated +station, and then up the steps, and as near as +she could judge purposed entering the train +with her. He revealed no urgent business. +He merely talked at random, as he had at +lunch.</p> +<p>She allowed two trains to pass, and then +said:––</p> +<p>“I must go home now.”</p> +<p>“It seems to me you are always on the point +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_163' name='page_163'></a>163</span> +of going home,” he complained. “What do you +do after you get there?”</p> +<p>“I have a great many things to do,” she +informed him.</p> +<p>“You have dinner?”</p> +<p>“Yes.”</p> +<p>“Sometimes I have dinner too,” he nodded. +“Then what do you do?”</p> +<p>“I have a great many things to do,” she +repeated.</p> +<p>“I don’t have anything to do after dinner,” +he said. “I just wander around until it’s time +to go to bed.”</p> +<p>“That’s a waste of time.”</p> +<p>“I know it. It’s just killing time until the +next day.”</p> +<p>She appeared interested.</p> +<p>“You have many friends?”</p> +<p>“They are all in London and Paris,” he +answered.</p> +<p>“You have relatives.”</p> +<p>“No,” he answered. “You see, I live all +alone. Dad left me a house, but––well, he +didn’t leave any one in it except the servants.”</p> +<p>“You live in a house all by yourself?”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_164' name='page_164'></a>164</span></div> +<p>He nodded.</p> +<p>Mr. Pendleton lived in a house! That was a +wonderful thing to her. She had almost forgotten +that any one lived in whole houses any +more. She was eager to hear more. So, when +the next train came along she stepped into it, +and he followed, although she had not intended +to allow this.</p> +<p>“I wish you would tell me about your house,” +she said wistfully.</p> +<p>So, on the way uptown, he tried to describe it +to her. He told her where it was, and that quite +took away her breath; and how his father had +bought it; and how many rooms there were; and +how it was furnished; and, finally, how he came +to be living in it himself on a salary of twenty-five +dollars a week. As she listened her eyes +grew round and full.</p> +<p>“My, but you’re lucky!” she exclaimed. “I +should think you’d want to spend there every +minute you could get.”</p> +<p>“Why?” he asked in surprise.</p> +<p>“Just because it’s your house,” she answered. +“Just because it’s all your own.”</p> +<p>“I don’t see it,” he answered.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_165' name='page_165'></a>165</span></div> +<p>“And what do <i>you</i> want of ten thousand a +year?” she demanded. “You can live like a +king on what you’re drawing now.”</p> +<p>“You don’t mean that?” he asked.</p> +<p>“I don’t mean you ought to give up trying for +the big jobs,” she said quickly. “You ought to +try all the harder for those, because that’s all +that’s left for you to try for. With everything +else provided, you ought to make a name for +yourself. Why, you’re free to work for nothing +else.”</p> +<p>“On twenty-five dollars a week?”</p> +<p>“And a house that’s all your own. With a +roof over your head no one can take away, and +heat and light––why, it’s a fortune and your +twenty-five so much extra.”</p> +<p>“Well, I have to eat,” he observed.</p> +<p>“Yes, you have to eat.”</p> +<p>“And wear clothes.”</p> +<p>She was doing that and paying her rent out of +fifteen.</p> +<p>“I don’t see what you do with all your +money,” she answered.</p> +<p>At this point she stepped out of the train, and +he followed her. She went down the stairs to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_166' name='page_166'></a>166</span> +the street, and he continued to follow. She was +on her way to the delicatessen store to buy +her provisions for the night and Sunday. Apparently +it was his intention to go there with +her. At the door of the little shop she stopped.</p> +<p>“I’m going in here,” she informed him, as if +that concluded the interview.</p> +<p>He merely nodded and opened the door for +her. She was beginning to be worried. At this +rate there was no knowing but what he might +follow her right home.</p> +<p>“I’m going to buy my provisions for to-morrow,” +she further informed him.</p> +<p>“I suppose I must get something too,” he +answered. “Can’t I buy it here?”</p> +<p>“It’s a public place,” she admitted.</p> +<p>“Then come on.”</p> +<p>So they entered together, and Hans greeted +them both with a smile, as if this were the most +natural thing in the world. But Miss Winthrop +herself was decidedly embarrassed. This +seemed a very intimate business to be sharing +with a man. On the other hand, she did not +propose to have her plans put out by a man. So +she ordered half a pound of butter and a jar of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_167' name='page_167'></a>167</span> +milk and some cheese and some cold roast and +potato salad for that night and a lamb chop for +Sunday, and one or two other little things, the +whole coming to eighty-five cents.</p> +<p>“Now,” he asked, when she had concluded, +“what do you think <i>I’d</i> better order?”</p> +<p>Her cheeks were flushed, and she knew it.</p> +<p>“I’m sure I don’t know,” she answered.</p> +<p>He saw some eggs.</p> +<p>“I might as well have a dozen eggs to start +with,” he began.</p> +<p>“Is there only yourself?” she inquired.</p> +<p>“Yes,” he answered.</p> +<p>“Then I should think a half-dozen would do.”</p> +<p>“A half-dozen,” he corrected the order.</p> +<p>Then he thought of chops.</p> +<p>“A pound or two of chops,” he ordered.</p> +<p>“If you have eggs for breakfast, you will need +chops only for dinner. Two chops will be +enough.”</p> +<p>Before she was through she had done practically +all his ordering for him,––because she +could not bear to see waste,––and the total +came to about one half what it usually cost him. +He thought there must be some mistake, and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_168' name='page_168'></a>168</span> +insisted that Hans make a second reckoning. +The total was the same.</p> +<p>“I shall trade with you altogether after +this,” he informed the pleased proprietor.</p> +<p>There were several packages, but Hans +bound them together into two rather large-sized +ones. With one of these in each hand, Don +came out upon the street with Miss Winthrop.</p> +<p>“I’m going home now,” she announced.</p> +<p>“There you are again!” he exclaimed.</p> +<p>“But I must.”</p> +<p>“I suppose you think I ought to go home.”</p> +<p>“Certainly.”</p> +<p>“Look here––doesn’t it seem sort of foolish +to prepare two lunches in two different places. +Doesn’t it seem rather wasteful?”</p> +<p>Offhand, it did. And yet there was something +wrong with that argument somewhere.</p> +<p>“It may be wasteful, but it’s necessary,” she +replied.</p> +<p>“Now, is it?” he asked. “Why can’t we go +downtown somewhere and lunch together?”</p> +<p>“You must go home with your bundles,” she +said, grasping at the most obvious fact she +could think of at the moment.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_169' name='page_169'></a>169</span></div> +<p>“If that’s the only difficulty, I can call a +messenger,” he replied instantly.</p> +<p>“And lose all you’ve saved by coming ’way +up here? I won’t listen to it.”</p> +<p>“Then I’ll go home with them and come +back.”</p> +<p>“It will be too late for lunch then.”</p> +<p>“I can take a taxi and––”</p> +<p>“No wonder your salary isn’t enough if you +do such things!” she interrupted. “If you had +ten thousand a year, you would probably +manage to spend it all.”</p> +<p>“I haven’t a doubt of it,” he answered cheerfully. +“On the other hand, it would get me out +of such predicaments as these.”</p> +<p>Apparently he was content to stand here in +front of the little shop the rest of the afternoon, +debating this and similar points. It was necessary +for her to take matters into her own +hands.</p> +<p>“The sensible thing for you to do is to go +home and have lunch,” she decided.</p> +<p>“And then?”</p> +<p>“Oh, I can’t plan your whole day for you. +But you ought to get out in the sunshine.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_170' name='page_170'></a>170</span></div> +<p>“Then I’ll meet you in the park at three?”</p> +<p>“I didn’t say that.”</p> +<p>“Will you come?”</p> +<p>She was upon the point of saying no, when +she made the mistake of meeting his eyes. They +were honest, direct, eager. It was so easy to +promise whatever they asked and so hard to be +always opposing them. She answered impulsively:––</p> +<p>“Yes.”</p> +<p>But she paid for her impulse, as she generally +did, by being sorry as soon as she was out of +sight of him. The first thing she knew, she +would be back where she was a month ago, and +that would never do––never do at all.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_171' name='page_171'></a>171</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XVIII_A_DISCOURSE_ON_SALARIES' id='CHAPTER_XVIII_A_DISCOURSE_ON_SALARIES'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XVIII</h2> +<h3>A DISCOURSE ON SALARIES</h3> +</div> +<p>Until Miss Winthrop allowed Pendleton to +spend with her that afternoon in the park, the +period between the close of business on Saturday +and the opening on Monday had furnished +her with a natural protective barrier. On one +side of this stood the business world of Carter, +Rand & Seagraves, to which Pendleton himself +belonged; on the other side was her own private, +personal world. Now that barrier was down. +Without realizing at the time the significance of +his request,––a request so honestly and smilingly +made that it took her off her guard,––she +had allowed him, for a period of a couple of +hours, to enter that personal world. By her side +he had explored with her the familiar paths in +the park which until then had been all her own. +He had made himself a part of them. Never +again could she follow them without, in a sense, +having him with her.</p> +<p>She realized this because when, at five o’clock, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_172' name='page_172'></a>172</span> +she had told him to leave her at the foot of the +Elevated, she had watched him out of sight, +and then, instead of going home as she intended, +she had turned and gone back to the park. She +had a vague notion that she must put her life +back upon its normal basis before returning to +her room. If only for a few moments, she must +go over the old paths alone.</p> +<p>It was impossible. Everywhere she turned, +it was to recall some careless phrase or gesture +or expression of his––to react to them again +exactly as when he had been with her. And this +man had nothing whatever to do with the office +of Carter, Rand & Seagraves. She could not +force him back there; he insisted upon remaining +on the personal side of the barrier.</p> +<p>It was curious how quickly she accepted the +situation after her first startled surprise. After +all, if she was going to retain her interest in him +in any way, it was as necessary to help him outside +the office as within. One opportunity had +been offered her that very afternoon in making +him understand that it was perfectly possible +to enjoy a half-holiday without spending all the +money in his pocket.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_173' name='page_173'></a>173</span></div> +<p>His attitude toward money puzzled her. In +one way he seemed to place too much value +upon it, and in another way not enough. He +overemphasized the importance of a ten-thousand-dollar +salary, making that the one goal of +his business efforts, and then calmly proposed +squandering dollar bills on confectionery and +what not as an incident to as simple an amusement +as a walk in the park. He neither knew +how little a dollar was worth, nor how much. +She herself had learned out of hard experience, +and if she could only make him understand––well, +that at least furnished her with some sort +of excuse for allowing this new relationship to +continue.</p> +<p>For all any one knows, there may be some +divine reason that prompts women to find excuses +in such matters––which, in a way, forces +them willy-nilly to the making of such excuses.</p> +<p>And yet, she had to admit that it was stretching +the excuse pretty far when, a week later, she +meekly allowed him to come with her on her +usual Sunday outing into the country. By +steady cross-examination he had made her divulge +the fact that it was her interesting habit +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_174' name='page_174'></a>174</span> +to prepare a luncheon of bread and butter and +cake, and, taking a train, to spend the day by +the side of a brook she had discovered.</p> +<p>“Fine,” he nodded. “Next Sunday I’ll go +with you.”</p> +<p>That afternoon he started making his preparations.</p> +<p>Obviously, the first thing necessary was a +luncheon basket, and on his way uptown he +saw one of English wicker that took his fancy. +It had compartments with bottles and a whole +outfit of knives and forks and plates and little +drinking-cups and what not. What it cost is nobody’s +business. Then he stopped at a very nice +grocery store on Fifth Avenue and asked the +advice of the clerk about the more substantial +contents, and the clerk gave his advice very +willingly. He bought some French sardines and +English marmalade, and some fruit and confectionery +and some strictly fresh eggs and dainty +crackers and some jelly and olives and cheese +and several other little things.</p> +<p>“Now,” suggested the clerk, “a small chicken +roasted and served cold would be very nice.”</p> +<p>“Right,” nodded Don.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_175' name='page_175'></a>175</span></div> +<p>“I could order it for you from here.”</p> +<p>“Right again,” agreed Don.</p> +<p>It was to be sent to the house, so that Nora +could have it roasted that afternoon.</p> +<p>He accomplished these things on his way uptown, +and felt quite satisfied with himself. This +preparing of a picnic basket was, after all, a +very simple matter.</p> +<p>When Miss Winthrop came into the station +for the nine-thirty, he was waiting for her with +the big wicker basket in his hand.</p> +<p>They rode to a little village hardly large +enough to have a name, and getting out there +took to the open road.</p> +<p>Don enjoyed the tramp of three miles that +followed, but, on the whole, he was glad when +they reached the border of the brook. The +walking and the flowers and the scenery occupied +too much of the girl’s attention. Not only +that, but this English wicker basket became +heavy in the course of time. At the end of a +mile or so it seemed as if the clerk must have +lined the bottom of his basket with stones. Don +meant to investigate at the first opportunity.</p> +<p>The stream that she had discovered only +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_176' name='page_176'></a>176</span> +after several seasons of ardent exploration was +not, geographically considered, of any especial +importance to the world at large. But behind +the clump of alders out of which it crept was +a bit of pasture greensward about as big as a +room. Here one might lunch in as complete +seclusion as if in the Canadian woods or in the +heart of Africa.</p> +<p>She was as eager to have him pleased as if +this were some house of her planning. “It’s a +better dining-place than any in town, isn’t it?” +she asked.</p> +<p>“I should say so,” he nodded.</p> +<p>With her permission, he lighted a cigarette +and, stretching himself out on the grass, enjoyed +it as only a man can who has limited his +smokes to so many a day. She sat near the +brook, and she too was quite content and very +comfortable.</p> +<p>“I don’t see why you didn’t tell me about +this place before,” he observed.</p> +<p>“I wasn’t quite sure you’d like it here, for +one thing,” she answered.</p> +<p>“Why not?”</p> +<p>“It isn’t a very gay place, is it?”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_177' name='page_177'></a>177</span></div> +<p>“It’s considerably gayer than my house on a +Sunday,” he answered.</p> +<p>“It’s your own fault you don’t enjoy your +house more,” she declared.</p> +<p>“How is it?”</p> +<p>“Why, it’s a wonderful thing to have a house +all of your own. I used to pretend this was a +house all of my own.”</p> +<p>“Don’t you any longer?”</p> +<p>She was wondering how it would be about +that, now that she had allowed him to enter. +Of course, she might treat him merely as a +guest here; but that was difficult, because +the only thing she based her sense of ownership +on was the fact that no one else knew +anything about the place. She shook her +head.</p> +<p>“It’s hard to pretend anything except when +you’re alone,” she answered.</p> +<p>He sat up.</p> +<p>“Then you oughtn’t to have let me come +here with you.”</p> +<p>She smiled.</p> +<p>“How could I help it? You just came.”</p> +<p>“I know it,” he admitted. “I’m always butting +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_178' name='page_178'></a>178</span> +in, and you ought to tell me so every now +and then.”</p> +<p>“Would that make any difference?”</p> +<p>“I don’t know as it would,” he admitted. +“But it might make me uncomfortable.”</p> +<p>“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. +I think you manage to make yourself uncomfortable +enough, as it is. And that’s absurd, +because just being a man ought to keep you +happy all the time.”</p> +<p>“I don’t see how you figure that,” he +answered.</p> +<p>“Being a man is being able to do about anything +you wish.”</p> +<p>“Don’t you believe it,” he replied. “Having +money is the only thing that makes you able to +do what you wish.”</p> +<p>“Oh, dear!” she exclaimed. “Are you going +back to that ten thousand a year?”</p> +<p>“Pretty soon now it will be September,” he +reflected irrelevantly.</p> +<p>“And then?”</p> +<p>“I had rather hoped to get it by then.”</p> +<p>“Well, you won’t, so you’d better forget it. +I shouldn’t wonder but what you received a +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_179' name='page_179'></a>179</span> +raise to two thousand if Farnsworth gets you +out selling, and that ought to satisfy you.”</p> +<p>Don looked up. Somehow, every time she +put it that way it did sound enough. Beside the +brook it sounded like plenty.</p> +<p>“Look here,” he exclaimed. “Would you +marry a man who was only drawing a salary of +two thousand?”</p> +<p>For a moment the question confused her, but +only for a moment.</p> +<p>“If I was willing to take my chance with a +man,” she said, “his salary of two thousand +would be the least of my troubles.”</p> +<p>“You mean you think two could live on +that?”</p> +<p>“Of course they could,” she answered shortly.</p> +<p>“And have enough to buy clothes and all +those things?”</p> +<p>“And put money in the bank if they weren’t +two fools,” she replied.</p> +<p>“But look here,” he continued, clinging to +the subject when it was quite evident she was +willing to drop it. “I’ve heard that hats cost +fifty dollars and more apiece, and gowns anywhere +from two hundred to five.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_180' name='page_180'></a>180</span></div> +<p>“Yes,” she nodded; “I’ve heard that.”</p> +<p>“Well, don’t they?” he persisted.</p> +<p>“I don’t remember ever getting any bill of +that size,” she answered with a smile.</p> +<p>“What do your bills amount to?” he inquired.</p> +<p>Miss Winthrop hesitated a moment.</p> +<p>“If you want to know,” she answered finally, +“this hat cost me some three dollars with the +trimmings. And if I ever paid more than +twenty-five dollars for a suit, I’d want some one +to appoint a guardian for me.”</p> +<p>There certainly was a wide margin of difference +here in the estimates made by two women––a +difference not accounted for, as far as Don +could see, in the visible results. He would have +liked to continue more into details, but Miss +Winthrop rose as if to put an end to this +subject.</p> +<p>“I’m hungry,” she announced.</p> +<p>“Right,” he nodded. “There’s my basket +over there, and I’ll let you set the table.”</p> +<p>Her idea had been that he was to eat his +luncheon and she hers. However, she had no +objection to making things ready for him. So +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_181' name='page_181'></a>181</span> +she brought the basket over in front of him and +opened it. She gave one look into it.</p> +<p>“Did you buy all this?” she demanded.</p> +<p>“Why, yes,” he answered.</p> +<p>She removed the napkin and saw the cold +chicken.</p> +<p>“Didn’t you know any better, or were you +just trying to see how much money you could +throw away?” she inquired.</p> +<p>“Don’t you like chicken?”</p> +<p>“Yes, I like chicken,” she answered.</p> +<p>“There are other things underneath, and hot +coffee in the bottles,” he announced.</p> +<p>Just to see how far he had gone, she took out +the other things. She caught her breath.</p> +<p>“Well, it’s your own affair,” she commented. +“But, if you eat all this, I’m sorry for you.”</p> +<p>She spread a napkin before him and placed +the chicken on it, surrounding it with the tin of +sardines, the boxes of crackers, the jar of marmalade, +the cheese, the confectionery, and +other things. Then she unrolled her own package +of sandwiches, and proceeded to munch one.</p> +<p>“Look here!” he exclaimed. “You didn’t +think I bought this all for myself?”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_182' name='page_182'></a>182</span></div> +<p>“I’d rather think that than to think you +thought I was silly enough to want you to throw +away your money.”</p> +<p>He was carving the chicken, and he handed +her a portion upon one of the bright aluminum +plates. But she shook her head in refusal.</p> +<p>“You aren’t going to have any of this?”</p> +<p>“No, thank you.”</p> +<p>“I call that rather too bad, because if you +don’t it will be wasted.”</p> +<p>“It was wasted when you bought it.”</p> +<p>“But you didn’t tell me what to get.”</p> +<p>“I told you we’d each bring our own luncheon,” +she reminded him.</p> +<p>“And so we did; but I don’t call it very +friendly of you not to share with me.”</p> +<p>“I have quite enough of my own.”</p> +<p>She seemed determined about the matter, so +he put all the things back again in the basket, +closed and fastened the lid, and, placing it to +one side, lighted a fresh cigarette. She watched +him in amazement.</p> +<p>“Aren’t you going to eat your lunch?” she +demanded.</p> +<p>“I refuse to eat alone.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_183' name='page_183'></a>183</span></div> +<p>“I’m the one who is eating alone,” she said.</p> +<p>“That seems to be what you want.”</p> +<p>“You’ve no right to do things and then +blame me for them,” she protested.</p> +<p>“You’re doing all the blaming yourself,” he +returned.</p> +<p>For a moment she continued to eat her sandwich +in silence and to watch his set face. She +was quite sure he would remain stubborn in the +stand he had taken.</p> +<p>“It was silly enough to buy all those expensive +things, but it would be even sillier to throw +them away,” she asserted.</p> +<p>“It would at least be too bad,” he confessed. +“But I can’t help it, can I? I can’t <i>make</i> you +eat, you know.”</p> +<p>There he went again, placing the whole +blame on her.</p> +<p>“Hand me that basket,” she ordered.</p> +<p>He handed her the basket, and she brought +out the delicacies.</p> +<p>“Next time I shall prepare both lunches,” she +declared.</p> +<p>“That will be very nice,” he nodded.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_184' name='page_184'></a>184</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XIX_A_LETTER' id='CHAPTER_XIX_A_LETTER'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XIX</h2> +<h3>A LETTER</h3> +</div> +<p>Letter from Miss Frances Stuyvesant to Donald +Pendleton, Esq.:––</p> +<blockquote> +<p><span class='smcap'>PARIS, FRANCE</span>, June 20.</p> +<p><span class='smcap'>DEAR OLD DON</span>:––</p> +</blockquote> +<p>I’m having a very good time, Don, dear, and I +know you’ll be glad to hear that. Dolly has a +great many friends in Paris, and so has Dad, and +so has Chic. Between them all we are very gay. +But it is raining to-day, and somehow I’ve been +worrying about your being in town with nothing +to do but work. I do hope you are taking care of +yourself and running to the shore or the mountains +for the week-ends.</p> +<p>Now I must hurry up and dress; but please +remember that I am still, as always,</p> +<blockquote> +<p>Your <span class='smcap'>FRANCES</span>.</p> +</blockquote> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_185' name='page_185'></a>185</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XX_STARS' id='CHAPTER_XX_STARS'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XX</h2> +<h3>STARS</h3> +</div> +<p>At lunch one warm Wednesday, Don suggested +to Miss Winthrop that after the close of +business they take a car for the beach instead +of going to their respective homes.</p> +<p>“We can go down there, have our supper, +and then get out of the crowd and smell the +ocean awhile,” he said.</p> +<p>He had a knack for putting in a most reasonable +light anything he wished to do. It was a +feature of his selling gift, and she recognized it +as such.</p> +<p>“What do you say?” he pressed her.</p> +<p>She blushed at her own hesitancy.</p> +<p>“Oh, I’ll go,” she answered.</p> +<p>The incident remained uppermost in her +thoughts all the rest of the afternoon. If she +had known about this excursion the day before, +she would have put on a different shirt-waist. +She had a new silk waist which was very pretty +and which she had meant to wear next Sunday.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_186' name='page_186'></a>186</span></div> +<p>He met her at the Elevated station, but it +was she who had to direct him to the proper +trolley for Coney, or they might have landed +anywhere along the Sound.</p> +<p>Stopping only long enough to buy an ice for +supper and a bag of peanuts, they sought the +beach. He threw himself down full length on +the sand, and she sat with her hands clasped +over her knees. The salt air swept her cheeks +and cooled them, and the waves before her ran +up the beach in play and song. This was certainly +a decided improvement over such a night +in her room.</p> +<p>“See those stars!” he exclaimed, as if this +were the first time he had ever seen them.</p> +<p>She lifted her eyes and looked at them.</p> +<p>“I often look at them,” she said.</p> +<p>Then she laughed gently to herself.</p> +<p>“Do you know what I do when I’m silly +enough to want jewels?” she asked.</p> +<p>“What?”</p> +<p>“I take a look at those stars, and then I don’t +want jewels any more.”</p> +<p>“A man could give away diamonds by the +handful if women would take that kind,” he +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_187' name='page_187'></a>187</span> +exclaimed. “See that big fellow up there?” +He pointed it out, and she nodded.</p> +<p>“I’ll give you that one,” he offered.</p> +<p>She laughed lightly––confidently.</p> +<p>“But I don’t have to come to you or to any +one,” she reminded him. “I can just give it to +myself.”</p> +<p>“That isn’t quite the same thing, is it?”</p> +<p>No, it was not quite the same thing. She +knew it. But she was not telling all she +knew.</p> +<p>“It’s a wonder to me you’ve never married,” +he said.</p> +<p>She caught her breath. She had come to look +for unexpected remarks from him, but this was +a trifle more unexpected than usual. She tried +to laugh as she usually did, but she could not +laugh.</p> +<p>“I suppose you’ve figured out that, with all +your free diamonds, you’re better off as you +are,” he suggested.</p> +<p>She did not answer.</p> +<p>“Is that the way of it?” he persisted.</p> +<p>She tried to make her voice natural, but +there was a tightening in her throat.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_188' name='page_188'></a>188</span></div> +<p>“I haven’t done much figuring of any kind +along that line,” she said.</p> +<p>He was looking out to sea.</p> +<p>“I don’t know but what both men and +women are better off unmarried,” he said.</p> +<p>“They aren’t,” she answered.</p> +<p>It was some one within her rather than she +herself who spoke. He turned to look at her, +but her eyes were out at sea.</p> +<p>“You mean that?” he said.</p> +<p>“I mean it,” she answered.</p> +<p>“Even if a man hasn’t much money?”</p> +<p>She turned her eyes again to the sky.</p> +<p>“What has money to do with the stars?” she +asked.</p> +<p>“Do you think a man in my position has any +right to ask a woman to marry him?”</p> +<p>“What has your position to do with it?” she +asked.</p> +<p>“It has a lot if the woman wants five times +what I’m earning,” he answered.</p> +<p>She gave a little startled cry. The stars +swam before her.</p> +<p>“Oh!” she gasped. “You mean––you mean +you’re thinking of some one like––like that?”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_189' name='page_189'></a>189</span></div> +<p>“Yes,” he answered.</p> +<p>He had a vague notion this was not the sort +of thing one ordinarily discussed with another +woman. But Miss Winthrop was different from +other women: she had both experience and +common sense.</p> +<p>“I asked her to marry me a year ago,” he +said.</p> +<p>The stars were still swimming before her.</p> +<p>“And––and she said––?”</p> +<p>“She said she thought I ought to wait until I +was earning ten thousand.”</p> +<p>“And that’s the reason you––you wanted +the ten thousand?”</p> +<p>“Yes. You didn’t think I wanted it for +myself, did you?”</p> +<p>“I didn’t know,” she answered.</p> +<p>It was like a load removed from his shoulders. +He breathed freer.</p> +<p>“You’re the most sensible woman I ever +met, and I thought you could help me.”</p> +<p>She hated that word sensible now, though +when Mr. Seagraves had used it to her it had +seemed like a compliment.</p> +<p>“You see, I had plenty of money when we +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_190' name='page_190'></a>190</span> +were first engaged, and so it didn’t make any +difference, even if she had plenty too. Then, +when Dad tied up my share, why, it made things +different. We talked it over and decided that +ten thousand was about right; but––well, I +didn’t think it would take so long to get it.”</p> +<p>“Where is––where is she now?” Miss Winthrop +demanded.</p> +<p>“She went abroad in June to stay until +September.”</p> +<p>“And left you here?”</p> +<p>“Of course. I couldn’t go.”</p> +<p>“And left you here?” she repeated.</p> +<p>“That’s what you get for being in business,” +he explained. “We had planned to go +together––on our honeymoon.”</p> +<p>The air was getting chill. She shivered.</p> +<p>“Aren’t you warm enough?” he asked.</p> +<p>He started to remove his jacket to throw over +her shoulders, but she objected.</p> +<p>“I’m all right.”</p> +<p>“Better put it on.”</p> +<p>“No; I don’t want it.”</p> +<p>They were silent a moment, and then she +said, almost complainingly:––</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_191' name='page_191'></a>191</span></div> +<p>“As long as you couldn’t go, why didn’t she +stay here with you?”</p> +<p>The question startled him.</p> +<p>“In town?” he exclaimed.</p> +<p>“Why didn’t she stay here and look after +you?”</p> +<p>“Why, she couldn’t do that when she was +going abroad.”</p> +<p>“Then she had no business to go abroad,” +she answered fiercely.</p> +<p>“Now, look here,” he put in. “We aren’t +married, you know. We’re only engaged.”</p> +<p>“But <i>why</i> aren’t you married?”</p> +<p>“We couldn’t afford it.”</p> +<p>“That isn’t true. You could afford it on half +what you’re earning.”</p> +<p>He shook his head. “You don’t know.”</p> +<p>“She should have married you, and if she +wanted more she should have stayed and +helped you get more.”</p> +<p>“And helped?” he exclaimed.</p> +<p>She was looking up at the stars again. They +were getting steadier.</p> +<p>“It’s the only way a woman can show––she +cares.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_192' name='page_192'></a>192</span></div> +<p>Then she rose. She was shivering again.</p> +<p>“I think we’d better go now.”</p> +<p>“But we haven’t been here a half-hour,” he +protested.</p> +<p>“We’ve been here quite a long while,” she +answered. “Please, I want to go home now.”</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_193' name='page_193'></a>193</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XXI_IN_THE_DARK' id='CHAPTER_XXI_IN_THE_DARK'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XXI</h2> +<h3>IN THE DARK</h3> +</div> +<p>An hour or so later Miss Winthrop lay in her +bed, where, with the door tight locked and the +gas out, she could feel just the way she felt like +feeling and it was nobody’s business. She cried +because she wished to cry. She cried because it +was the easiest and most satisfactory way she +knew of relieving the tenseness in her throat. +She burrowed her face in the pillow and cried +hard, and then turned over on her pig-tails and +sobbed awhile. It did not make any difference, +here in the dark, whether the tears made lines +down her face or not––whether or not they +made her eyes red, and, worst of all, her nose +red.</p> +<p>From sobbing, Miss Winthrop dwindled to +sniveling, and there she stopped. She was not +the kind to snivel very long––even by herself. +She did not like the sound of it. So she took her +wadded handkerchief and jammed it once into +each eye and jabbed once at each cheek, and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_194' name='page_194'></a>194</span> +then, holding it tight in her clenched fist, made +up her mind to stop. For a minute or two an +occasional sob broke through spasmodically; +but finally even that ceased, and she was able +to stare at the ceiling quite steadily. By that +time she was able to call herself a little fool, +which was a very good beginning for rational +thinking.</p> +<p>There was considerable material upon which +to base a pretty fair argument along this line. +Admitting that Don Pendleton was what she +had been crying about,––a purely hypothetical +assumption for the sake of a beginning,––she +was able to start with the premise that a +woman was a fool for crying about any man. +Coming down to concrete facts, she found herself +supplied with even less comforting excuses. +If she had been living of late in a little fool’s +paradise, why, she had made it for herself. She +could not accuse him of having any other part +in it than that of merely being there. If she +went back a month, or three months, or almost +a year, she saw herself either taking the initiative +or, what was just as bad, passively submitting. +Of course, her motive had been merely to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_195' name='page_195'></a>195</span> +help him in an impersonal sort of way. She had +seen that he needed help, but she had not +dreamed the reason for it. She had no warning +that he had been deserted by her who should +have helped him. She had no way of knowing +about this other. Surely that ignorance was not +her fault.</p> +<p>Here is where she jabbed her handkerchief +again into each eye and lay back on her pig-tails +long enough to get a fresh grip upon herself. +Her skin grew hot, then cold, then hot +again. It really had all been more the fault of +this other than Mr. Pendleton’s. She had no +business to go away and leave him for some one +else to care for. She had no business to leave +him, anyway. She ought to have married him +away back when he first went to work to make +a fortune for her. Why didn’t she take the +money it cost to go to Europe and spend it on +him? She had let a whole year go wasted, when +she had such an opportunity as this! Here was +a house waiting for her; here was Don waiting +for her; and she had gone to Europe!</p> +<p>To put one’s self in another’s place––in a +place of so delicate a nature as this––is a dangerous +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_196' name='page_196'></a>196</span> +business, but Miss Winthrop did not +do it deliberately. Lying there in the dark, her +imagination swept her on. The thought that +remained uppermost in her mind was the +chance this other girl had missed. She would +never have it again. In the fall Don would +receive his raise and be sent out to sell, and +after that his career was assured. It remained +only for him to hold steady––an easy matter +after the first year––and his income was bound +to increase by thousand-dollar jumps until he +won his ten thousand and more. And with that +there was not very much left, as far as she could +see, for a woman to do. The big fight would be +all over. A woman could no longer claim a +partnership; she would simply be bought.</p> +<p>If last fall she had had the chance of that +other, she would have had him out selling a +month ago. Give her a year or two, and she +would have him in that firm or some other. +She could do it. She felt the power that minute.</p> +<p>This raised a new question. What was she to +do from now on? Until now she had had the +excuse of ignorance; but there was still another +month before Don’s fiancée would be back. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_197' name='page_197'></a>197</span> +And this month would count a whole lot to him. +It was the deciding month. Farnsworth had +been watching him closely, and had about made +up his mind; but he was still on the alert for any +break. He had seen men go so far and then +break. So had she. It was common enough. +She herself had every confidence in Don, but +she was doubtful about how long it was wise to +leave even him alone. Men could not stand +being alone as well as women. They had not the +same experience. It took a special kind of +nerve to be alone and remain straight.</p> +<p>Well, supposing he did break, what was that +to her, now that she knew about this other? +Here was a perfectly fair and just question. +The man had made his selection and given over +his future into the care of the woman of his +choice, and she alone was responsible. There +could be no dispute about this. It was a fair +question; and yet, as soon as she framed it, she +recognized it as unworthy of her. Furthermore, +it led to an extremely dangerous deduction––namely, +that her interest, after all, was not +entirely impersonal; for if it were what difference +did one woman or twenty other women +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_198' name='page_198'></a>198</span> +make in her relations with him? To put the +matter bluntly, she was acting exactly as if she +were in love with him herself!</p> +<p>When Miss Winthrop faced that astounding +fact she felt exactly as if her heart stopped beating +for a full minute. Then it started again as if +trying to make up for the lapse in a couple of +breaths. She gasped for breath and, throwing +off the bedclothes, jumped up and lighted the +gas. Here was something to be met in the light. +But, as soon as she caught sight of her flushed +cheeks and her staring eyes, she hurriedly +turned out the gas again and climbed back into +bed. Here she lay like some trapped thing, +panting and helpless. Over and over again she +whispered, “I’m not! I’m not!” as if some +one were bending over her and taunting her +with the statement. Then she whispered, “It +isn’t true! Oh, it isn’t true!” She denied it +fiercely––vehemently. She threw an arm over +her eyes even there in the dark.</p> +<p>It was such an absurd accusation! If she had +been one of those silly, helpless creatures with +nothing else to do in life but fall in love, it +might have had some point; but here she was, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_199' name='page_199'></a>199</span> +a self-respecting, self-supporting girl who had +seen enough of men to know distinctly better +than to do anything so foolish. It had been the +confidence born of this knowledge that had allowed +her from the start to take an impersonal +interest in the man. And the proof of this was +that she had so conducted herself that he had +not fallen in love with her.</p> +<p>Then what in the world was she crying about +and making such a fuss about? She asked herself +that, and, with her lips firm together, determined +that the best answer was to do no +more crying and make no more fuss. So she +settled back again upon her pig-tails, and stared +at the ceiling and stared at the ceiling and +stared at the ceiling.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_200' name='page_200'></a>200</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XXII_THE_SENSIBLE_THING' id='CHAPTER_XXII_THE_SENSIBLE_THING'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XXII</h2> +<h3>THE SENSIBLE THING</h3> +</div> +<p>When Miss Winthrop rose the next morning, +she scarcely recognized the woman she saw in +the glass as the woman she had glimpsed for a +second last night when she had risen and lighted +the gas. Her cheeks were somewhat paler than +usual, and her eyes were dull and tired. She +turned from the glass as soon as possible, and +donned a freshly laundered shirt-waist. Then +she swallowed a cup of coffee, and walked part +way to the office, in the hope that the fresh air +might do something toward restoring her color. +In this she was successful, but toward noon the +color began to fade again.</p> +<p>The problem that disturbed her the entire +morning long had to do with luncheon. She +recognized that here she must strike the keynote +to all her future relations with Mr. Pendleton. +If she was to eliminate him entirely and go +back to the time when he was non-existent, then +she must begin to-day. It was so she preferred +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_201' name='page_201'></a>201</span> +to handle disagreeable tasks. She detested +compromises. When she had anything to do, +she liked to do it at once and thoroughly. If she +had consulted her own wishes and her own interests +alone, she would never have seen him +again outside the office. But if she did this, what +would become of him during this next month?</p> +<p>The trouble was that Don would get lonesome––not +necessarily for her, but for that +other. He was the sort of man who needed some +one around all the time to take an interest in +him. This deduction was based, not upon guesswork, +but upon experience. For almost a year +now she had seen him every day, and had +watched him react to just such interest on her +part. She was only stating a fact when she said +to herself that, had it not been for her, he +would have lost his position months before. She +was only stating another fact when she said to +herself that even now he might get side-tracked +into some clerical job. Give him a month to +himself now, and he might undo all the effort of +the last six months. Worse than that, he might +fall into the clutches of Blake and go to pieces +in another way.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_202' name='page_202'></a>202</span></div> +<p>There was not the slightest use in the +world in retorting that this, after all, was +the affair of Don and his fiancée rather than +hers. She had brought him through so far, +and she did not propose to see her work +wasted. No one would gain anything by such +a course.</p> +<p>The alternative, then, was to continue to +meet him and to allow matters to go on as before. +It was toward the latter part of the forenoon +that she reached this conclusion. All this +while she had been taking letters from Mr. Seagraves +and transcribing them upon her typewriter +without an error. She had done no conscious +thinking and had reached no conscious +conclusion. All she knew was that in the early +forenoon she had been very restless, and that +suddenly the restlessness vanished and that she +was going on with her typewriting in a sort of +grim content. Half-past eleven came, and then +twelve. She finished the letter, and went for +her hat as usual, putting it on without looking +in the glass.</p> +<p>Don met her a little way from the office, and +she fell into step at his side.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_203' name='page_203'></a>203</span></div> +<p>“I was sort of worried about you last night,” +he said. “You looked tired.”</p> +<p>“I guess I was,” she answered.</p> +<p>“Don’t you get a vacation before long?”</p> +<p>She could have had her vacation a month +ago, but there seemed to be no reason for +taking it. She had not been able to think of any +place to which she wished to go. Then she had +forgotten about it.</p> +<p>“I’ve decided to take it next month,” she +answered.</p> +<p>She decided that much on the spot.</p> +<p>“I suppose there’s one due me, too,” he said. +“Blake said something about it a while ago. +But I don’t know what I’d do with a vacation +if I took one.”</p> +<p>“I should think you had something very important +to do with it,” she answered quickly.</p> +<p>“What do you mean?”</p> +<p>“Take it for your wedding trip.”</p> +<p>The suggestion made him catch his breath. +“Look here,” he exclaimed. “That means getting +married!”</p> +<p>“Surely it does,” she nodded.</p> +<p>They had reached the little restaurant, and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_204' name='page_204'></a>204</span> +she hurried in. Without waiting for his assistance, +she secured a cup of coffee and a sandwich +for herself. Then she found a chair and sat +down. She did not know how she was ever +going to swallow anything, but she had to have +something to do to occupy her hands.</p> +<p>“You put that up to a man as if it were the +easiest thing in the world,” he observed, sitting +in the next chair.</p> +<p>“Well, it is, isn’t it––once you’ve made up +your mind?”</p> +<p>“Looks to me as if it was one thing to make +up your mind to get married some day, and +another really to get married.”</p> +<p>“It’s better to do it than to waste your +time thinking about it,” she declared. “When +Farnsworth hands you that raise, believe me, +he’ll want you to have both feet on the +ground.”</p> +<p>“Eh?”</p> +<p>“He won’t want you to be drifting in with +only three hours’ sleep, the way you did most +of last winter. He has a lot more confidence +in married men, anyhow.”</p> +<p>Don laughed.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_205' name='page_205'></a>205</span></div> +<p>“That phrase makes a man feel ten years +married.”</p> +<p>She had been trying hard to eat her lunch, +but without much success. He noticed this.</p> +<p>“What’s the matter with you?” he inquired.</p> +<p>“I don’t happen to be hungry, that’s all,” +she answered.</p> +<p>“You didn’t catch cold last night?”</p> +<p>“No.”</p> +<p>“But look here––”</p> +<p>“Oh, I’m all right,” she answered.</p> +<p>He went to the counter and returned with +some doughnuts for himself and a piece of cake +for her.</p> +<p>“This looked so good I thought you might +like it,” he said, as he placed it on the arm of her +chair. “It’s so much easier to talk when eating. +I want to hear more about this scheme of yours +for marrying me off.”</p> +<p>“It isn’t exactly my suggestion.”</p> +<p>“You proposed it a minute ago.”</p> +<p>“All I said was that if you mean to get married, +you’d better do it right away and be done +with it.”</p> +<p>“During my vacation?”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_206' name='page_206'></a>206</span></div> +<p>She brought her lips together.</p> +<p>“Yes.”</p> +<p>“Do you know, that rather appeals to me,” +he answered thoughtfully.</p> +<p>She turned aside her head.</p> +<p>“It’s the only sensible thing,” she assured +him.</p> +<p>“It would give a man a chance to settle down +and attend to business.”</p> +<p>“And give his wife a chance to help him.”</p> +<p>“By Jove, I’m going to propose that to +Frances the day she lands!” he exclaimed.</p> +<p>He was finishing his last doughnut. Miss +Winthrop rose. Once outside, she could breathe +freely. She said:––</p> +<p>“Her––her name is Frances?”</p> +<p>“Frances Stuyvesant,” he nodded.</p> +<p>“When do you expect her home?”</p> +<p>“The first of September.”</p> +<p>“Then you’d better put in a bid to have your +vacation the first two weeks in September,” +she advised. “Business will begin to pick up +right after that, and Farnsworth will need you.”</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_207' name='page_207'></a>207</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XXIII_LOOKING_AHEAD' id='CHAPTER_XXIII_LOOKING_AHEAD'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XXIII</h2> +<h3>LOOKING AHEAD</h3> +</div> +<p>It was now the first week in August. If she +could sustain his interest in the project for three +weeks and get him married in the fourth, then +she could settle back into the routine of her life. +It was the only possible way of straightening +out the tangle. Once he was safely married, +that was the end. Their relations would cease +automatically. The conventions would attend +to that. As a married man he, of course, could +not lunch with her or spend Saturday afternoons +in the park with her, or Sunday in the +country with her, or mid-week evenings anywhere +with her. He would be exiled from her +life as effectively as if he himself should go to +Europe. In fact, the separation would be even +more effective, because there would not be any +possible hope of his coming back. For her it +would be almost as if he died.</p> +<p>Back in her room that night, Miss Winthrop +saw all these things quite clearly. And she saw +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_208' name='page_208'></a>208</span> +that this was the only way. In no other way +could she remain in the office of Carter, Rand & +Seagraves. If he did not marry in September,––she +had applied that afternoon for her own +vacation to parallel his,––then she must resign. +Unmarried, he would be as irresponsible this +coming winter as he was last, and if she remained +would be thrown back upon her. She +could not allow that––she could not endure +it.</p> +<p>She had lost so many things all at once. She +did not realize until now how much dreaming +she had done in these last few months. Dreams +of which at the time she had scarcely been conscious +returned to-night to mock her with +startling vividness. It was not so much that +she wished to be loved as that she wished to +love. That was where she had deceived herself. +Had Don made love to her, she would have +recognized the situation and guarded herself. +But this matter of loving him was an attack +from a quarter she had not anticipated.</p> +<p>In the next three weeks she left him little +chance to think of anything but of his work and +of Frances. She talked of nothing else at lunch; +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_209' name='page_209'></a>209</span> +she talked of nothing else on Saturday afternoons +and on Sundays and whenever they met +on other days. This had its effect. It accustomed +him to associate together the two chief +objectives in his life until in his thoughts they +became synonymous. For the first time since +their engagement, he began to think of Frances +as an essential feature of his everyday affairs.</p> +<p>He began to think about what changes in the +house would be necessary before she came. He +talked this over with Miss Winthrop.</p> +<p>“I wish you could come up and look the place +over before Frances gets here,” he said to her +one day.</p> +<p>If the color left her face for a second, it came +back the next with plenty to spare. The idea +was preposterous, and yet it appealed to her +strangely.</p> +<p>“I wish I could,” she answered sincerely.</p> +<p>“Well, why can’t you?” he asked.</p> +<p>“It’s impossible––of course,” she said.</p> +<p>“I could arrange a little dinner and ask some +one to chaperon,” he suggested.</p> +<p>“It’s out of the question,” she answered +firmly. “You can tell me all about it.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_210' name='page_210'></a>210</span></div> +<p>“But telling you about it isn’t like letting +you see it,” he said.</p> +<p>“It is almost as good, and––almost as good +is something, isn’t it?”</p> +<p>There was a suppressed note in her voice that +made him look up. He had caught many such +notes of late. Sometimes, as now, he half expected +to find her eyes moist when he looked +up. He never did; he always found her +smiling.</p> +<p>“I’d have Nora give everything a thorough +cleaning before September,” she advised.</p> +<p>“I’ll do that,” he nodded.</p> +<p>He wrote it down in his notebook, and that +night spoke to Nora about it. She appeared +decidedly interested.</p> +<p>“It’s possible that in the fall you may have +some one else besides me to look after,” he +confided to her in explanation.</p> +<p>“It’s to be soon, sir?” she asked eagerly.</p> +<p>“In September, perhaps,” he admitted.</p> +<p>“It would please your father, sir,” she answered +excitedly. “It’s lonesome it’s been for +you, sir.”</p> +<p>He did not answer, but he thought about that +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_211' name='page_211'></a>211</span> +a little. No, it had not been exactly lonesome +for him––not lately. That was because he was +looking ahead. That was it.</p> +<p>“It hasn’t seemed quite natural for you to +be living on here alone, sir,” she ventured.</p> +<p>“Dad lived here alone,” he reminded her.</p> +<p>“Not at your age, sir,” answered Nora.</p> +<p>From that moment there was much ado in +the house. Don came home at night to find +certain rooms draped in dusting clothes, later to +appear as fresh and immaculate as if newly +furnished. This gave him a great sense of responsibility. +He felt married already. He came +downtown in the morning a little more serious, +and took hold of his work with greater vigor.</p> +<p>The next few weeks passed rapidly. Frances +had finished her trip to Scotland and was on her +way back to London. She was to sail in a few +days now. He cabled her to let him know when +she started, and three days later she answered. +He showed her reply to Miss Winthrop.</p> +<p>Sail Monday on the Mauretania, but Dolly +wants me to spend next two weeks after arrival +in the Adirondacks with her.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_212' name='page_212'></a>212</span></div> +<p>Miss Winthrop returned the cable with a +none too steady hand.</p> +<p>“She mustn’t do that,” she said firmly.</p> +<p>“Of course she mustn’t,” he agreed. “You +see, she doesn’t know she is to be married +right away. Do you think I ought to cable her +that?”</p> +<p>“I don’t think I would,” Miss Winthrop +replied. “But I would let her know I didn’t +approve of her arrangement.”</p> +<p>“Supposing I just say, ‘Have other plans for +you’?”</p> +<p>“That would do,” she nodded.</p> +<p>So he sent her this message, and that evening +at dinner Miss Winthrop spoke to him of another +matter.</p> +<p>“I don’t think you have shown much attention +to her parents this summer. Oughtn’t you +to see them and let them know what you +intend?”</p> +<p>“Tell Stuyvesant?” he exclaimed.</p> +<p>“Why should he object?” she asked.</p> +<p>“I don’t know as he will. Then again he +might. You see, I’ve never told him just how +Dad tied things up.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_213' name='page_213'></a>213</span></div> +<p>“What difference does that make?” she demanded. +“With the house and what you’re +earning, you have enough.”</p> +<p>“It isn’t as much as he expects a man to give +his daughter, though,––not by a long shot.”</p> +<p>“It’s enough,” she insisted. “Why, even +without the house it would be enough.”</p> +<p>“Yes,” he answered, with a smile. “When +you say it––it’s enough. I wish Stuyvesant +knew you.”</p> +<p>The blood came into her cheeks. She wished +he wouldn’t say things like that.</p> +<p>“It seems to me you ought to see him and +tell him,” she said thoughtfully.</p> +<p>He shook his head.</p> +<p>“What’s the use of seeing him until I’ve seen +Frances?”</p> +<p>“It’s all settled about her.”</p> +<p>“That she’ll marry me in September?”</p> +<p>“Of course,” she answered excitedly. “Why, +she’s been waiting a whole year. Do you think +she’ll want to wait any longer? As soon as +she knows how well you’ve done, why––why, +that’s the end of it. Of course that’s the end +of it.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_214' name='page_214'></a>214</span></div> +<p>“I wish I were as confident as you!”</p> +<p>“You must be,” she answered firmly. “You +mustn’t feel any other way. The house is all +ready, and you are all ready, and––that’s all +there is to it.”</p> +<p>“And Frances is all ready?”</p> +<p>“When she promised to marry you she was +ready,” she declared. “You don’t understand. +I guess women are different from men. They––they +don’t make promises like that until they +are quite sure, and when they are quite sure +they are quite ready. This last year should +have been hers. You made a mistake, but +there’s no sense in keeping on with the mistake. +Oh, I’m quite sure of that.”</p> +<p>She was wearing a light scarf,––this was at +Jacques’,––and she drew it over her shoulders. +Somehow, the unconscious act reminded him of +a similar act on the beach at Coney....</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_215' name='page_215'></a>215</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XXIV_VACATIONS' id='CHAPTER_XXIV_VACATIONS'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XXIV</h2> +<h3>VACATIONS</h3> +</div> +<p>During this next week––the week Frances +was on the ocean and sailing toward him––he +gained in confidence day by day. Miss Winthrop +was so absolutely sure of her point of +view that it was difficult in her presence to have +any doubts.</p> +<p>Frances was due to arrive on Monday, and +for Sunday he had arranged at Jacques’ a very +special little dinner for Miss Winthrop. Miss +Winthrop herself did not know how special it +was, because all dinners there with him were +special. There were roses upon the table. Their +odor would have turned her head had it not +been for the realization that her trunk was all +packed and that to-morrow morning she would +be upon the train. She had written to an aunt +in Maine that she was coming––to this particular +aunt because, of the three or four she +knew at all, this aunt was the farthest from +New York.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_216' name='page_216'></a>216</span></div> +<p>As for him, he had forgotten entirely that +Monday marked the beginning of her vacation. +That was partly her fault, because for the last +week she had neglected to speak of it.</p> +<p>Ordinarily she did not permit him to come +all the way back to the house with her; but this +night he had so much to talk about that she +did not protest. Yes, and she was too weak +to protest, anyway. All the things he talked +about––his fears, his hopes, speculations, and +doubts––she had heard over and over again. +But it was the sound of his voice to which she +clung. To-morrow and after to-morrow everything +would be changed, and she would never +hear him talk like this again. He was excited +to-night, and buoyant and quick with life. He +laughed a great deal, and several times he spoke +very tenderly to her.</p> +<p>They had reached her door, and something in +her eyes––for the life of him he could not tell +what––caused him to look up at the stars. +They were all there in their places.</p> +<p>“Look at ’em,” he said. “They seem nearer +to-night than I’ve ever seen them.”</p> +<div class='figtag'> +<a name='linki_3' id='linki_3'></a> +</div> +<div class='figcenter'> +<img src='images/i216.jpg' alt='' title='' width='447' height='332' /><br /> +<p class='caption'> +“I GUESS WOMEN ARE DIFFERENT FROM MEN”<br /> +</p> +</div> +<p>She was a bit jealous of those stars. It had +been when with her that he had first seen +them.</p> +<p>“You aren’t looking,” he complained.</p> +<p>She turned her eyes to the sky. To her they +seemed farther away than ever.</p> +<p>“Maybe Frances is looking at those same +stars,” he said.</p> +<p>She resented the suggestion. She turned her +eyes back to the street.</p> +<p>“Where’s the star I gave you?” he asked.</p> +<p>“It’s gone,” she answered.</p> +<p>“Have you lost it?”</p> +<p>“I can’t see it.”</p> +<p>“Now, look here,” he chided her lightly. “I +don’t call that very nice. You don’t have a star +given you every night.”</p> +<p>“I told you I didn’t need to have them +given to me, because I could take all I wanted +myself. You don’t own the stars too.”</p> +<p>“I feel to-night as if I did,” he laughed. “I’ll +have to pick out another for you.” He searched +the heavens for one that suited him. He found +one just beyond the Big Dipper, that shone +steadily and quietly, like her eyes. He pointed +it out to her.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_217' name='page_217'></a>217</span></div> +<p>“I’ll give you that one, and please don’t lose +it.”</p> +<p>She was not looking.</p> +<p>“Do you see it?” he insisted.</p> +<p>She was forced to look. After all, he could +afford to give her one out of so many, and it +would be something to remember him by.</p> +<p>“Yes,” she answered, with a break in her +voice.</p> +<p>“That one is yours,” he assured her.</p> +<p>It was as if he added, “All the rest belong to +Frances.”</p> +<p>She held out her hand to him.</p> +<p>“Thank you for your star,” she said. “And––and +I wish you the best of luck.”</p> +<p>He took her hand, but he was confused by the +note of finality in her voice.</p> +<p>“I don’t see any need of being so solemn +about saying good-night,” he returned.</p> +<p>He continued to hold her hand firmly.</p> +<p>“But it’s good-bye and––God-speed, too,” +she reminded him.</p> +<p>“How do you make that out?”</p> +<p>“You’re going on a long journey, and I––I’m +going on a little journey.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_218' name='page_218'></a>218</span></div> +<p>“You? Where are you going?”</p> +<p>He didn’t want her to go anywhere. He +wanted her to stay right where she was. Come +to think of it, he always wanted her to stay +right where she was. He always thought of her +as within reach.</p> +<p>“My vacation begins to-morrow,” she answered.</p> +<p>“And you’re going away––out of town?”</p> +<p>She nodded.</p> +<p>“You can’t do that,” he protested. “Why, +I was depending upon you these next few +days.”</p> +<p>It was difficult for her to tell at the moment +whether the strain in her throat was joy or pain. +That he needed her––that was joy; that he +needed her only for the next few days––that +was not joy.</p> +<p>“You mustn’t depend upon any one these +next few days but yourself,” she answered +earnestly. “And after that––just yourself and +her.”</p> +<p>“That’s well enough if everything comes out +all right.”</p> +<p>“Make it come out right. That’s your privilege +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_219' name='page_219'></a>219</span> +as a man. Oh, that’s why it’s so good to +be a man!”</p> +<p>“You ought to have been a man yourself,” +he told her.</p> +<p>She caught her breath at that, and insisted +upon withdrawing her hand.</p> +<p>“I used to think I’d like to be,” she answered.</p> +<p>“And now?”</p> +<p>She shook her head.</p> +<p>He had swung the talk back to her again, +when the talk should have been all of him and +Frances.</p> +<p>“It’s in you to get everything in the +world you want,” she said. “I’m sure of +that. All you have to do is to want it hard +enough. And now there are so many things +right within your grasp. You won’t let go of +them?”</p> +<p>“No,” he answered.</p> +<p>“Your home, your wife, and your work––it’s +wonderful to make good in so many things +all at once! So––good-bye.”</p> +<p>“You talk as if you were not coming back +again!”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_220' name='page_220'></a>220</span></div> +<p>“I’m coming back to Carter, Rand & Seagraves––if +that’s what you mean.”</p> +<p>“And you’re coming back here––to your +home?”</p> +<p>“Yes; I’m coming back here.”</p> +<p>“Then we’ll just say s’long.”</p> +<p>“No. We must say good-bye.”</p> +<p>She had not wished to say this in so many +words. She had hoped he would take the new +situation for granted.</p> +<p>“When I come back you must look on me as––as +Mr. Farnsworth does.”</p> +<p>“That’s nonsense.”</p> +<p>“No; it’s very, very good sense. It’s the only +thing possible. Can’t you see?”</p> +<p>“No.”</p> +<p>“Then Frances will help you see.”</p> +<p>“She won’t want to make a cad of me; I +know that.”</p> +<p>“I’m going in now.”</p> +<p>She opened the door behind her.</p> +<p>“Wait a moment,” he pleaded.</p> +<p>“No, I can’t wait any longer. Good-bye.”</p> +<p>She was in the dark hall now.</p> +<p>“Good-bye,” she repeated.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_221' name='page_221'></a>221</span></div> +<p>“S’long,” he answered.</p> +<p>Softly, gently, she closed the door upon him. +Then she stumbled up the stairs to her room, +and in the dark threw herself face down on her +bed.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_222' name='page_222'></a>222</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XXV_IN_THE_PARK' id='CHAPTER_XXV_IN_THE_PARK'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XXV</h2> +<h3>IN THE PARK</h3> +</div> +<p>Either Frances had grown more beautiful +in the last three months, or Don had forgotten +how really beautiful she was when she left; for, +when she stepped down the gangplank toward +him, he was quite sure that never in his life had +he seen any one so beautiful as she was then. +Her cheeks were tanned, and there was a foreign +touch in her costume that made her look more +like a lady of Seville than of New York. As she +bent toward him for a modest kiss, he felt for a +second as if he were in the center of some wild +plot of fiction. This was not she to whom he +was engaged,––she whom he purposed to +marry within the week,––but rather some +fanciful figure of romance.</p> +<p>He stepped into her car,––he did not know +even if he was asked,––and for a half-hour +listened to her spirited narration of incidents of +the voyage. It was mostly of people, of this +man and that, this woman and that, with the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_223' name='page_223'></a>223</span> +details of the weather and deck sports. Under +ordinary circumstances he might have enjoyed +the talk; but, with all he had to tell her, it +sounded trivial.</p> +<p>They reached the house. Even then, there +was much talk of trunks and other things of no +importance to him whatever. Stuyvesant hung +around in frank and open admiration of his +daughter; and Mrs. Stuyvesant beamed and +listened and stayed. Don had a feeling that, +in spite of his position in the family, they +looked upon him at this moment as an intruder.</p> +<p>It was another half-hour before he found +himself alone with her. She came to his side at +once––almost as if she too had been awaiting +this opportunity.</p> +<p>“Dear old Don,” she said. “It’s good to see +you again. But you look tired.”</p> +<p>“And you look beautiful!” he exclaimed.</p> +<p>Now that he was alone with her, he felt again +as he had at the steamer––that this woman +was not she to whom he was engaged, but some +wonderful creature of his imagination. The +plans he had made for her became commonplace. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_224' name='page_224'></a>224</span> +One could not talk over with her the +matter-of-fact details of marrying and of housekeeping +and of salaries. And those things that +yesterday had filled him with inspiration, that +had appeared to him the most wonderful things +in life, that had been associated with the stars, +seemed tawdry. She had been to London to see +the Queen, and the flavor of that adventure was +still about her.</p> +<p>“Don, dear, what’s the matter?”</p> +<p>He was so long silent that she was worried. +He passed his hand over his forehead.</p> +<p>“I don’t know,” he answered honestly. +“There were a lot of things I wanted to say to +you, and now I can’t think of them.”</p> +<p>“Nice things?”</p> +<p>“Perhaps it’s the house,” he replied vaguely. +“I wish we could get out of here for a little +while. After lunch I want you to come to walk +with me. Will you?”</p> +<p>“Where, Don?”</p> +<p>He smiled.</p> +<p>“In the park.”</p> +<p>“What an odd fancy!” she answered.</p> +<p>“Here I get you all mixed up with your +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_225' name='page_225'></a>225</span> +father and mother and the Queen,” he ran on. +“I want to talk to you alone.”</p> +<p>He sounded more natural to her when he +talked like that.</p> +<p>“All right, Don, though there are a hundred +things I ought to do this afternoon. And I must +decide about going to the mountains with +Dolly. What <i>were</i> those other plans you cabled +me about?”</p> +<p>“Those are what I want to talk over with +you,” he answered.</p> +<p>“What are they? I’m dying to know.”</p> +<p>“I’ll tell you in the park. Now I’ll go, so +that you’ll have time to do some of the hundred +things you want to do.”</p> +<p>He turned.</p> +<p>“Don’t you want to––to––”</p> +<p>She held out her arms to him. He kissed her +lips. Then she seemed to come back to him as +she had been before she sailed. He could have +said all he wished to say then. But her mother +was calling her.</p> +<p>“I’ll be here at two. And, this once––you +must cancel every other engagement.”</p> +<p>“Yes, Don.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_226' name='page_226'></a>226</span></div> +<p>She came to the door with him, and stood +there until he turned the corner. He did not +know where to go, but unconsciously his steps +took him downtown. He stopped at a florist’s +and ordered a dozen roses to be sent back to the +house. He stopped to order a box of her favorite +bonbons. Then he kept on downtown toward +the office of Carter, Rand & Seagraves. But +this was the first day of his vacation, and so he +had no object in going there. He must find a +place to lunch. He came to a dairy lunch, and +then he knew exactly what it was he needed. +He needed Sally Winthrop to talk over his +complication with him.</p> +<p>As he made his way to the counter for his +sandwich and coffee, he frowned. He had told +her that he would surely need her. Now she +was gone. He suddenly recalled that she had +not even left her address.</p> +<p>Only two days before he had been discussing +with her the final details of the house awaiting +Frances, and she had made him feel that everything +was perfect.</p> +<p>“She will love it,” she had assured him.</p> +<p>It was as if he heard her voice again repeating +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_227' name='page_227'></a>227</span> +that sentence. Once again he reacted to her +enthusiasm and saw through her eyes. She had +made him feel that money––the kind of money +Stuyvesant stood for––was nonsense. A salary +of twelve hundred a year was enough for the +necessities, and yet small enough to give his +wife an opportunity to help.</p> +<p>“When the big success comes,” she had said +to him, “then Frances can feel that it is partly +her success too. A woman doesn’t become a +wife by just marrying a man, does she? It’s +only when she has a chance to help that she can +feel herself really a wife.”</p> +<p>As she said it he felt that to be true, although +to him it was a brand-new point of view.</p> +<p>And Sally Winthrop had given him, in her +own life, a new point of view on woman. He +understood that she had never married because +she had never happened to fall in love. She had +always been too busy. But if ever she did fall in +love, what a partner she would make! Partner––that +was the word.</p> +<p>“It’s in you to get everything in the world +you want,” she had said last night, when she +was leaving him.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_228' name='page_228'></a>228</span></div> +<p>So it was. He gulped down the rest of his +coffee and glanced at his watch. It was shortly +after one. He must stay down here another half-hour––stay +around these streets where he had +walked with her and where she had made him +see straight––until he had just time to meet +Frances.</p> +<p>He went out and walked past the office of +Carter, Rand & Seagraves, and then walked to +the Elevated station where she took the train at +night for home. The sight of the steps up which +they had climbed together made him almost +homesick. He wished to Heaven that she had +postponed her vacation another day. If only he +could see her a few minutes right now, he would +be absolutely sure of himself.</p> +<p>It was after two when he reached the house, +but Frances was not ready. She was never +quite ready.</p> +<p>“I’ll wait outside,” he told the maid.</p> +<p>The maid raised her brows a trifle, but answered +civilly:––</p> +<p>“Very well, sir.”</p> +<p>As he walked back and forth the Stuyvesant +machine also drew up before the door and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_229' name='page_229'></a>229</span> +waited. He viewed it with suspicion. He could +not say what he had to say in that. She must +be afoot, as Sally Winthrop always was.</p> +<p>He was making his turn at the end of the +street when she came down the steps and before +he could reach her stepped into the machine.</p> +<p>“I have several little things to do after +we’ve had our walk,” she explained to Don, as +he came up.</p> +<p>She made room for him by her side. Because +he did not wish to argue before the chauffeur, +he took his allotted place; but he himself gave +the order to the driver:––</p> +<p>“Central Park.”</p> +<p>Then he turned to her.</p> +<p>“When we get there we must get out and +walk.”</p> +<p>“Very well, Don,” she submitted; “but I +think we’d be much more comfortable right +here.”</p> +<p>She regarded him anxiously.</p> +<p>“Is anything worrying you, Don?”</p> +<p>“Only you,” he answered.</p> +<p>“I?” she exclaimed. “If it’s because of +Jimmy Schuyler, you needn’t worry any more. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_230' name='page_230'></a>230</span> +He was very nice at first, but later––well, he +was too nice. You see, he forgot I was engaged.”</p> +<p>“The little cad!” exclaimed Don.</p> +<p>“You mustn’t blame him too much. He just +forgot. And now he is very attentive to Dolly.”</p> +<p>“She allows it?”</p> +<p>“I think she rather likes him. She has invited +him up to camp. And, Don, dear, she +wants you to come too. It would be very nice +if we could all go. Can’t you manage it?”</p> +<p>“It doesn’t appeal to me just now,” he +answered.</p> +<p>The machine had swung into the park. He +ordered the chauffeur to stop.</p> +<p>“Come,” he said to Frances.</p> +<p>He found the path from the drive where the +children played, and he found the bench where +he had sat with Sally Winthrop. Then all she +had told him came back to him, as it had in the +dairy lunch.</p> +<p>“It’s about the other plans I want to tell you +out here,” he began eagerly.</p> +<p>“Yes, Don.”</p> +<p>“I’ve done a lot of work while you were +away,” he said proudly.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_231' name='page_231'></a>231</span></div> +<p>“It seems a pity it was necessary,” she +answered.</p> +<p>“It’s been the best thing that ever happened +to me,” he corrected her. “It has made me see +straight about a lot of things. And it’s helped +me to make good in the office.”</p> +<p>She looked puzzled.</p> +<p>“You mean you’ve been made a partner or +something?”</p> +<p>“Hardly that––yet,” he smiled. “But it’s +pretty sure I’ll be put to selling when I come +back.”</p> +<p>“You’re going away?”</p> +<p>“I’m on my vacation,” he explained. “This +is the first day of my vacation.”</p> +<p>“Oh, then you <i>can</i> come with us?”</p> +<p>“I’d rather you came with me.”</p> +<p>“With you, Don? But where?”</p> +<p>“Anywhere you wish, as long as we go together +and alone. Only we must get back in +two weeks.”</p> +<p>“Don, dear!”</p> +<p>“I mean it,” he went on earnestly. “I want +to marry you to-morrow or next day. Your +trunks are all packed, and you needn’t unpack +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_232' name='page_232'></a>232</span> +them. We’ll spend all the time we can spare in +the mountains, and then come back––to the +house. It’s all ready for you, Frances. It’s +waiting for you.”</p> +<p>She stared about in fear lest some one might +be overhearing his rambling talk.</p> +<p>“Don,” she gasped.</p> +<p>“Nora has cleaned every room,” he ran on, +“and I’ve saved a hundred dollars for the trip. +And Farnsworth is going to give me a raise +before December. He hasn’t promised it, but I +know he’ll do it, because I’m going to make +good. You and I together will make good.”</p> +<p>She did not answer. She could not. She was +left quite paralyzed. He was leaning forward +expectantly.</p> +<p>“You’ll come with me?”</p> +<p>It was a full minute before she could answer. +Then she said:––</p> +<p>“It’s so impossible, Don.”</p> +<p>“Impossible?”</p> +<p>“One doesn’t––doesn’t get married that +way!”</p> +<p>“What does it matter how one gets married?” +he answered.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_233' name='page_233'></a>233</span></div> +<p>“What would people say?”</p> +<p>“I don’t care what they’d say.”</p> +<p>“You mustn’t get like that, Don, dear,” she +chided him. “Why, that’s being an anarchist +or something, isn’t it?”</p> +<p>“It’s just being yourself, little girl,” he explained +more gently. “The trouble with us is, +we’ve thought too much about other people +and––other things. It’s certain that after +we’re married people aren’t going to worry +much about us, so why should we let them +worry us before that? No, it’s all our own affair. +As for the salary part of it, we’ve been +wrong about that, too. We don’t need so much +as we thought we did. Why, do you know you +can get a good lunch downtown for fifteen +cents? It’s a fact. You can get an egg sandwich, +a chocolate éclair, and a cup of coffee for +that. I know the place. And I’ve figured that, +with the house all furnished us, we can live easy +on twenty-five a week until I get more. You +don’t need your ten thousand a year. It’s a +fact, Frances.”</p> +<p>She did not answer, because she did not quite +know what he was talking about. Yet, her +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_234' name='page_234'></a>234</span> +blood was running faster. There was a new +light in his eyes––a new quality in his voice +that thrilled her. She had never heard a man +talk like this before.</p> +<p>“You’ll have to trust me to prove all those +things,” he was running on. “You’ll have to +trust me, because I’ve learned a lot this summer. +I’ve learned a lot about you that you +don’t know yourself yet. So what I want you +to do is just to take my hand and follow. Can +you do that?”</p> +<p>At that moment it seemed that she could. +On the voyage home she had sat much on the +deck alone and looked at the stars, and there +had been many moments when she felt exactly +as she felt now. Thinking of him and looking +at the stars, nothing else had seemed to matter +but just the two of them.</p> +<p>There had been a child on board who had +taken a great fancy to her––a child about the +age of one that was now running about the grass +under the watchful eyes of a nurse. His name +was Peter, and she and Peter used to play tag +together. One afternoon when he was very tired +he had crept into her arms, and she had carried +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_235' name='page_235'></a>235</span> +him to her steamer-chair and wrapped him in +her steamer-rug and held him while he slept. +Then she had felt exactly as when she looked at +the stars. All the things that ordinarily counted +with her did not at that moment count at all. +She had kissed the little head lying on her +bosom and had thought of Don––her heart +pounding as it pounded now.</p> +<p>“Oh, Don,” she exclaimed, “it’s only people +in stories who do that way!”</p> +<p>“It’s the way we can do––if you will.”</p> +<p>“There’s Dad,” she reminded him.</p> +<p>“He let you become engaged, didn’t he?”</p> +<p>“Yes; but––you don’t know him as well +as I.”</p> +<p>“I’ll put it up to him to-day, if you’ll let me. +Honest, I don’t think it’s as much his affair as +ours, but I’ll give him a chance. Shall I?”</p> +<p>She reached for his hand and pressed it.</p> +<p>“I’ll give him a chance, but I can’t wait. We +haven’t time to bother with a wedding––do +you mind that?”</p> +<p>“No, Don.”</p> +<p>“Then, if he doesn’t object––it’s to-morrow +or next day?”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_236' name='page_236'></a>236</span></div> +<p>“You––you take away my breath,” she +answered.</p> +<p>“And if he does object?”</p> +<p>“Don’t let’s think of that––now,” she said. +“Let’s walk a little––in the park. It’s wonderful +out here, Don.”</p> +<p>Yes, it was wonderful out there––how wonderful +he knew better than she. She had not +had his advantages. She had not had Sally +Winthrop to point out the wonders and make a +man feel them. Of course, it was not the place +itself––not the little paths, the trees, or even +the big, bright sky that Frances meant or he +meant. It was the sense of individuality one +got here: the feeling of something within bigger +than anything without. It was this that permitted +Sally Winthrop to walk here with her +head as high as if she were a princess. It was +this that made him, by her side, feel almost like +a prince. And now Frances was beginning to +sense it. Don felt his heart quicken.</p> +<p>“This is all you need,” he whispered. “Just +to walk out here a little.”</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_237' name='page_237'></a>237</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XXVI_ONE_STUYVESANT' id='CHAPTER_XXVI_ONE_STUYVESANT'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XXVI</h2> +<h3>ONE STUYVESANT</h3> +</div> +<p>That evening, before Frances left Don alone in +the study, she bent over him and kissed him. +Then she heard her father’s footsteps and ran. +Don was remarkably cool. So was Stuyvesant; +but there was nothing remarkable about that. +When his daughter told him that Don was waiting +to see him, his eyes narrowed the least bit +and he glanced at his watch. He had a bridge +engagement at the club in half an hour. Then +he placed both hands on his daughter’s shoulders +and studied her eyes.</p> +<p>“What’s the matter, girlie?” he asked.</p> +<p>“Nothing, Dad,” she answered. “Only––I’m +very happy.”</p> +<p>“Good,” he nodded. “And that is what I +want you to be every minute of your life.”</p> +<p>Entering his study, Stuyvesant sat down +in a big chair to the right of the open fire +and waved his hand to another opposite +him.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_238' name='page_238'></a>238</span></div> +<p>“Frances said you wished to talk over something +with me,” he said.</p> +<p>“Yes, sir,” answered Don. He did not sit +down. He could think better on his feet. “It’s +about our marriage.”</p> +<p>Stuyvesant did not answer. He never answered +until the other man was through. Then +he knew where he stood.</p> +<p>“I don’t know whether or not you know the +sort of will father left,” began Don.</p> +<p>Stuyvesant did know, but he gave no indication +of the fact. He had been waiting a year for +something of this sort.</p> +<p>“Anyhow,” Don went on, “he took a notion +to tie up most of the estate. Except for the +house––well, he left me pretty nearly strapped. +Before that, he’d been letting me draw on him +for anything I wanted. When I asked you for +Frances I expected things would go on as they +were.</p> +<p>“When the change came, I had a talk with +Frances, and we agreed that the thing to do was +for me to go out and earn about the same sum +Dad had been handing to me. Ten thousand +a year seemed at the time what we needed. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_239' name='page_239'></a>239</span> +She said that was what her allowance had +been.”</p> +<p>Again Don paused, in the hope that Stuyvesant +might wish to contribute something to the +conversation. But Stuyvesant waited for him +to continue.</p> +<p>“So I went out to earn it. Barton found a +position for me with Carter, Rand & Seagraves, +and I started in. It’s a fact I expected to get +that ten thousand inside of a year.”</p> +<p>Don lighted a cigarette. The further he +went, the less interest he was taking in this explanation. +Stuyvesant’s apparent indifference +irritated him.</p> +<p>“That was a year ago,” Don resumed. “To-day +I’m drawing the same salary I started +with––twelve hundred. I expect a raise soon––perhaps +to twenty-five hundred. But the +point is this: I figure that it’s going to take me +some five years to get that ten thousand. I +don’t want to wait that long before marrying +Frances. Another point is this: I don’t think +any longer that it’s necessary. I figure that we +can live on what I’m earning now. So I’ve put +it up to her.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_240' name='page_240'></a>240</span></div> +<p>Don had hurried his argument a little, but, +as far as he was concerned, he was through. +The whole situation was distasteful to him. +The longer he stayed here, the less it seemed to +be any of Stuyvesant’s business.</p> +<p>“You mean you’ve asked my daughter to +marry you on that salary?” inquired Stuyvesant.</p> +<p>“I asked her this afternoon,” nodded Don. +“I suggested that we get married to-morrow +or next day. You see, I’m on my vacation, and +I have only two weeks.”</p> +<p>Stuyvesant flicked the ashes from his cigar. +“What was her reply?”</p> +<p>“She wanted me to put the proposition +before you. That’s why I’m here.”</p> +<p>“I see. And just what do you expect of me?”</p> +<p>“I suppose she wants your consent,” answered +Don. “Anyhow, it seemed only decent +to let you know.”</p> +<p>Stuyvesant was beginning to chew the end of +his cigar––a bit of nervousness he had not been +guilty of for twenty years. “At least, it would +have been rather indecent not to have informed +me,” he answered. “But, of course, you don’t +expect my consent to such an act of idiocy.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_241' name='page_241'></a>241</span></div> +<p>It was Don’s turn to remain silent.</p> +<p>“I’ve no objection to you personally,” Stuyvesant +began. “When you came to me and +asked for my daughter’s hand, and I found that +she wanted to marry you, I gave my consent. +I knew your blood, Pendleton, and I’d seen +enough of you to believe you clean and straight. +At that time also I had every reason to believe +that you were to have a sufficient income +to support the girl properly. If she had +wanted to marry you within the next month, I +wouldn’t have said a word at that time. When +I learned that conditions had been changed by +the terms of your father’s will, I waited to see +what you would do. And I’ll tell you frankly, I +like the way you’ve handled the situation up to +now.”</p> +<p>“I don’t get that last,” Don answered quietly.</p> +<p>“Then let me help you,” Stuyvesant resumed +grimly. “In the first place, get that love-in-a-cottage +idea out of your head. It’s a pretty +enough conceit for those who are forced to make +the best of their personal misfortunes, but that +is as far as it goes. Don’t for a moment think +it’s a desirable lot.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_242' name='page_242'></a>242</span></div> +<p>“In a way, that’s just what I <i>am</i> thinking,” +answered Don.</p> +<p>“Then it’s because you don’t know any better. +It’s nonsense. A woman wants money +and wants the things she can buy with money. +She’s entitled to those things. If she can’t have +them, then it’s her misfortune. If the man she +looks to to supply them can’t give them to her, +then it’s his misfortune. But it’s nothing for +him to boast about. If he places her in such a +situation deliberately, it’s something for him to +be ashamed of.”</p> +<p>“I can see that, sir,” answered Don, “when +it’s carried too far. But you understand that +I’m provided with a good home and a salary +large enough for the ordinary decent things of +life.”</p> +<p>“That isn’t the point,” broke in Stuyvesant. +“We’ll admit the girl won’t have to go hungry, +but she’ll go without a lot of other things that +she’s been brought up to have, and, as long as I +can supply them, things she’s entitled to have. +On that salary you won’t supply her with many +cars, you won’t supply her with the kind of +clothes she is accustomed to, you won’t supply +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_243' name='page_243'></a>243</span> +her with all the money she wants to spend. +What if she does throw it away? That’s her +privilege now. I’ve worked twenty-five years +to get enough so that she can do just that. +There’s not a whim in the world she can’t satisfy. +And the man who marries her must give +her every single thing I’m able to give her––and +then something more.”</p> +<p>“In money?” asked Don.</p> +<p>“The something more––not in money.”</p> +<p>He rose and stood before Don.</p> +<p>“I’ve been frank with you, Pendleton, and +I’ll say I think the girl cares for you. But I +know Frances better than you, and I know that, +even if she made up her mind to do without all +these things, it would mean a sacrifice. As far +as I know, she’s never had to make a sacrifice +since she was born. It isn’t necessary. Get +that point, Pendleton. It isn’t necessary, and +I’ll not allow any man to make it necessary if I +can help it.”</p> +<p>He paused as if expecting an outburst from +Don. The latter remained silent.</p> +<p>“I’ve trusted you with the girl,” Stuyvesant +concluded. “Up to now I’ve no fault to find +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_244' name='page_244'></a>244</span> +with you. You’ve lost your head for a minute, +but you’ll get a grip on yourself. Go ahead and +make your fortune, and come to me again. In +the mean while, I’m willing to trust you +further.”</p> +<p>“If that means not asking Frances to marry +me to-morrow, you can’t, sir.”</p> +<p>“You––you wouldn’t ask her to go against +my wishes in the matter?”</p> +<p>“I would, sir.”</p> +<p>“And you expect her to do so?”</p> +<p>“I hope she will.”</p> +<p>“Well, she won’t,” Stuyvesant answered. +He was chewing his cigar again.</p> +<p>“You spoke of the something more, sir,” said +Don. “I think I know what that means, and +it’s a whole lot more than anything your ten +thousand can give. When I found myself stony +broke, I was dazed for a while, and thought a +good deal as you think. Then this summer I +found the something more. I wouldn’t swap +back.”</p> +<p>“Then stay where you are,” snapped Stuyvesant. +“Don’t try to drag in Frances.”</p> +<p>Don prepared to leave.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_245' name='page_245'></a>245</span></div> +<p>“It’s a pity you aren’t stony broke too,” he +observed.</p> +<p>“Thanks,” answered Stuyvesant. “But I’m +not, and I don’t intend to have my daughter +put in that position.”</p> +<p>“You haven’t forgotten that I have a house +and twelve hundred?”</p> +<p>“I haven’t forgotten that is all you have.”</p> +<p>“You haven’t forgotten the something +more?”</p> +<p>Stuyvesant looked at his watch.</p> +<p>“I must be excused now, Pendleton,” he +concluded. “I think, on the whole, it will be +better if you don’t call here after this.”</p> +<p>“As you wish,” answered Pendleton. “But +I hope you’ll come and see us?”</p> +<p>“Damn you, Pendleton!” he exploded.</p> +<p>Then he turned quickly and left the room. +So, after all, it was he in the end who lost his +temper.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_246' name='page_246'></a>246</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XXVII_THE_STARS_AGAIN' id='CHAPTER_XXVII_THE_STARS_AGAIN'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XXVII</h2> +<h3>THE STARS AGAIN</h3> +</div> +<p>Don went to the nearest telephone and rang +up Frances.</p> +<p>“Your father lost his temper,” he explained. +“He ordered me not to call again; so will you +please to meet me on the corner right away?”</p> +<p>“I’ve just seen him,” she answered. “Oh, +Don, it was awful!”</p> +<p>“It is the best thing that could have happened,” +he said. “We have to meet in the park +now. It’s the only place left.”</p> +<p>“Don, dear, he told me not to meet you +anywhere again. He––he was quite savage +about it.”</p> +<p>“He had no right to tell you that,” Don +answered. “Anyhow, I must see you. We’ll +talk it over under the stars.”</p> +<p>“But, Don––”</p> +<p>“Please to hurry,” he said.</p> +<p>She slipped a scarf over her hair and a cape +over her shoulders, and walked to the corner, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_247' name='page_247'></a>247</span> +looking about fearfully. He gripped her arm +and led her confidently away from the house +and toward the park. The sky was clear, and +just beyond the Big Dipper he saw shining +steadily the star he had given Sally Winthrop. +He smiled. It was as if she reassured him.</p> +<p>“What did you say to him, Don?” she +panted.</p> +<p>“I told him I wished to marry you to-morrow,” +he answered.</p> +<p>“And he––”</p> +<p>“He said I shouldn’t. He said he could give +you more with his ten thousand than I could +give you with my twelve hundred. I told him +I could give you more with my twelve hundred +than he could with his ten thousand.”</p> +<p>“I’ve never seen him so angry,” she trembled.</p> +<p>“I’d never before seen him angry at all,” he +admitted. “But, after all, that isn’t important, +is it? The important thing is whether or +not he’s right. That’s what you and I must +decide for ourselves.”</p> +<p>She did not quite understand. She thought +her father had already decided this question. +However, she said nothing. In something of a +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_248' name='page_248'></a>248</span> +daze, she allowed herself to be led on toward the +park––at night a big, shadowy region with a +star-pricked sky overhead. Like one led in a +dream she went, her thoughts quite confused, +but with the firm grip of his hand upon her arm +steadying her. He did not speak again until the +paved street and the stone buildings were behind +them––until they were among the trees +and low bushes and gravel paths. He led her to +a bench.</p> +<p>“See those stars?” he asked, pointing.</p> +<p>“Yes, Don.”</p> +<p>“I want you to keep looking at them while +I’m talking to you,” he said.</p> +<p>Just beyond the Big Dipper he saw the star +he had given Sally Winthrop. It smiled reassuringly +at him.</p> +<p>“What I’ve learned this summer,” he said, +“is that, after all, the clear sky and those stars +are as much a part of New York as the streets +and high buildings below them. And when you +live up there a little while you forget about the +twelve hundred or the ten thousand. Those +details don’t count up there. Do you see that?”</p> +<p>“Yes, Don.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_249' name='page_249'></a>249</span></div> +<p>“The trouble with your father, and the +trouble with you, and the trouble with me, until +a little while ago, is that we didn’t get out here +in the park enough where the stars can be seen. +I’m pretty sure, if I’d been sitting here with +your father, he’d have felt different.”</p> +<p>She was doing as he bade her and keeping her +eyes raised. She saw the steady stars and the +twinkling stars and the vast purple depths. So, +when she felt his arm about her, that did not +seem strange.</p> +<p>“It’s up there we’ll be living most of the +time,” he was saying.</p> +<p>“Yes, Don.”</p> +<p>“And that’s all free. The poorer you are, the +freer it is. That’s true of a lot of things. +You’ve no idea the things you can get here in +New York if you haven’t too much money. +Your father said that if you don’t have cash +you go without, when as a matter of fact it’s +when you have cash you go without.”</p> +<p>She lowered her eyes to his. What he was +saying sounded topsy-turvy.</p> +<p>“It’s a fact,” he ran on. “Why, you can get +hungry if you don’t have too much money; and, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_250' name='page_250'></a>250</span> +honest, I’ve had better things to eat this summer, +because of that, than I ever had in my +life. Then, if you don’t have too much money, +you can work. It sounds strange to say there’s +any fun in that, but there is. I want to get +you into the game, Frances. You’re going to +like it. Farnsworth is going to let me sell next +month. It’s like making the ’Varsity. I’m going +to have a salary and commission, so you +see it will be partly a personal fight. You +can help me. Why, the very things we were +planning to get done with before we married are +the very things that are worth while. We can +stand shoulder to shoulder now and play the +game together. You can have part of the fun.”</p> +<p>She thrilled with the magic of his voice, but +his words were quite meaningless.</p> +<p>“You aren’t looking at the stars,” he reminded +her. She looked up again.</p> +<p>“So,” he said, “there’s no sense in waiting +any longer, is there? The sooner we’re married, +the sooner we can begin. If we’re married to-morrow, +we’ll have almost two weeks in the +mountains. And then––”</p> +<p>She appeared frightened.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_251' name='page_251'></a>251</span></div> +<p>“Oh, Don, we––we couldn’t get married +like that, anyway.”</p> +<p>“Why not?” he demanded.</p> +<p>“It––it isn’t possible.”</p> +<p>“Certainly it’s possible.”</p> +<p>She shook her head.</p> +<p>“No, no. I––I couldn’t. Oh, Don, you’ll +have to give me time to think.”</p> +<p>“There isn’t time,” he frowned.</p> +<p>“We must take time. I’m––I’m afraid.”</p> +<p>“Afraid of what?”</p> +<p>“Afraid of myself,” she answered quickly. +“Afraid of Dad. Oh, I’m afraid of every +one.”</p> +<p>“Of me?” He took her hand.</p> +<p>“When you speak of to-morrow I am,” she +admitted. “While you were talking, there were +moments when––when I could do as you wish. +But they didn’t last.”</p> +<p>“That’s because you didn’t keep your eyes +on the stars,” he assured her gently.</p> +<p>“That’s what I’m afraid of––that I shouldn’t +be able to keep them there. Don, dear, you +don’t know how selfish I am and––and how +many things I want.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_252' name='page_252'></a>252</span></div> +<p>She was seeing herself clearly now and +speaking from the depths of her soul.</p> +<p>“Maybe it isn’t all my fault. And you’re +wonderful, Don. It’s that which makes me see +myself.”</p> +<p>He kissed her hand. “Dear you,” he whispered, +“I know the woman ’way down deep in +you, and it’s she I want.”</p> +<p>She shook her head.</p> +<p>“No,” she answered. “It’s some woman +you’ve placed there––some woman who might +have been there––that you see. But she isn’t +there, because––because I can’t go with you.”</p> +<p>Some woman he had put there. He looked +at the stars, and the little star by the Big +Dipper was shining steadily at him. He passed +his hand over his forehead.</p> +<p>“If she were really in me, she’d go with you +to-morrow,” Frances ran on excitedly. “She’d +want to get into the game. She’d want to be +hungry with you, and she wouldn’t care about +anything else in the world but you. She––she’d +want to suffer, Don. She’d be almost +glad that you had no money. Her father +wouldn’t count, because she’d care so much.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_253' name='page_253'></a>253</span></div> +<p>She drew her cape about her shoulders.</p> +<p>“Yes,” he answered in a hoarse whisper; +“she’s like that.”</p> +<p>“So, don’t you see––”</p> +<p>“Good Lord, I do see!” he exclaimed.</p> +<p>Now he saw.</p> +<p>With his head swimming, with his breath +coming short, he saw. But he was as dazed as +a man suddenly given sight in the glare of the +blazing sun.</p> +<p>Frances was frightened by his silence.</p> +<p>“I––I think we’d better go back now,” she +said gently.</p> +<p>He escorted her to the house without quite +knowing how he found the way. At the door +she said:––</p> +<p>“Don’t you understand, Don?”</p> +<p>“Yes,” he answered; “for the first time.”</p> +<p>“And you’ll not think too badly of me?”</p> +<p>“It isn’t anything you can help,” he answered. +“It isn’t anything I can help, either.”</p> +<p>“Don’t think too badly of Dad,” she pleaded. +“He’ll cool down soon, and then––you must +come and see me again.”</p> +<p>She held out her hand, and he took it. Then +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_254' name='page_254'></a>254</span> +swiftly she turned and went into the house. +He hurried back to the path––to the path +where on Saturday afternoons he had walked +with Sally Winthrop.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_255' name='page_255'></a>255</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XXVIII_SEEING' id='CHAPTER_XXVIII_SEEING'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XXVIII</h2> +<h3>SEEING</h3> +</div> +<p>He saw now. Blind fool that he had been, +month after month! He sank on a bench and +went back in his thoughts to the first time he +had ever seen Sally Winthrop. She had reminded +him that it was luncheon time, and +when he had gone out she had been waiting for +him. She must have been waiting for him, or +he never would have found her. And she had +known he was hungry.</p> +<p>“She’d want to be hungry with you,” +Frances had said.</p> +<p>How had Sally Winthrop known that he +was hungry? She had known, and had shared +with him what she had.</p> +<p>Then incident after incident in the office +came back to him. It was she who had taught +him how to work. It was for her that he had +worked.</p> +<p>Frances had used another phrase: “She’d +be almost glad you had no money.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_256' name='page_256'></a>256</span></div> +<p>There was only one woman in the world he +knew who would care for a man like that––if +she cared at all. That brought him to his feet +again. He glared about as if searching for +her in the dark. Why wasn’t she here now, so +that he might ask her if she did care? She had +no business to go off and leave him like this! +He did not know where she was.</p> +<p>Don struck a match and looked at his watch. +It was eight-thirty. Somehow, he must find +her. He had her old address, and it was possible +that she had left word where she had gone. +At any rate, this was the only clue he had.</p> +<p>He made his way back to the Avenue, and, +at a pace that at times almost broke into a run, +went toward the club and the first taxi he saw. +In twenty minutes he was standing on the +steps where he had last seen her. She had +wished him to say “good-bye”; but he remembered +that he had refused to say “good-bye.”</p> +<p>The landlady knew Miss Winthrop’s address, +but she was not inclined to give it to him. At +first she did not like the expression in his eyes. +He was too eager.</p> +<p>“Seems to me,” she argued, “she’d have +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_257' name='page_257'></a>257</span> +told parties where she was going if she wanted +them to know.”</p> +<p>“This is very important,” he insisted.</p> +<p>“Maybe it’s a lot more important to you +than it is to her,” she replied.</p> +<p>“But––”</p> +<p>“You can leave your name and address, and +I’ll write to her,” she offered.</p> +<p>“Look here,” Don said desperately. “Do +you want to know what my business is with +her?”</p> +<p>“It’s none of my business, but––”</p> +<p>“I want to ask her to marry me,” he broke +in. “That’s a respectable business, isn’t it?”</p> +<p>He reached in his pocket and drew out a bill. +He slipped it into her hand.</p> +<p>“Want to marry her?” exclaimed the woman. +“Well, now, I wouldn’t stand in the way of +that. Will you step in while I get the address?”</p> +<p>“I’ll wait here. Only hurry. There may be +a late train.”</p> +<p>She was back in a few seconds, holding a slip +of paper in her hand.</p> +<p>“It’s to Brenton, Maine, she’s gone.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_258' name='page_258'></a>258</span></div> +<p>Don grabbed the paper.</p> +<p>“Thanks.”</p> +<p>He was halfway down the steps when she +called after him:––</p> +<p>“Good luck to ye, sir.”</p> +<p>“Thanks again,” he called back.</p> +<p>Then he gave his order to the driver:––</p> +<p>“To the Grand Central.”</p> +<p>Don found that he could take the midnight +train to Boston and connect there with a ten-o’clock +train next morning. This would get +him into Portland in time for a connection that +would land him at Brenton at four that afternoon. +He went back to the house to pack his +bag. As he opened the door and went in, it +seemed as if she might already be there––as +if she might be waiting for him. Had she +stepped forward to greet him and announce +that dinner was ready, he would not have been +greatly surprised. It was as if she had been +here all this last year. But it was only Nora +who came to greet him.</p> +<p>“I’m going away to-night for a few days––perhaps +for two weeks,” he told Nora.</p> +<p>“Yes, sir.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_259' name='page_259'></a>259</span></div> +<p>“I’ll wire you what my plans are––either +to-morrow or next day.”</p> +<p>“And it is to be soon, sir?”</p> +<p>“I can’t tell you for sure, Nora, until I’ve +cleared up one or two little matters; but––you +can wish me luck, anyway.”</p> +<p>“I’ll do that, sir.”</p> +<p>“And the house is ready, isn’t it?”</p> +<p>“Everything is ready, sir.”</p> +<p>“That’s fine. Now I’m going to pack.”</p> +<p>His packing finished, Don went downstairs +with still an hour or more on his hands before +train-time. But he did not care to go anywhere. +He was absolutely contented here. He +was content merely to wander from room to +room. He sat down at the piano in the dark, +and for a long while played to her––played +to her just the things he knew she would +like.</p> +<p>It was half-past eleven before he left the +house, and then he went almost reluctantly. +She was more here than anywhere in the world +except where he was going. He found himself +quite calm about her here. The moment he +came out on the street again he noticed a difference. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_260' name='page_260'></a>260</span> +His own phrase came back to frighten +him:––</p> +<p>“She’d care like that––if she cared at all.”</p> +<p>Supposing that after he found her, she did +not care?</p> +<p>At the station he wondered if it were best to +wire her, but decided against it. She might +run away. It was never possible to tell what a +woman might do, and Sally Winthrop was an +adept at concealing herself. He remembered +that period when, although he had been in the +same office with her, she had kept herself as +distant as if across the ocean. She had only to +say, “Not at home,” and it was as if she said, +“I am not anywhere.”</p> +<p>He went to his berth at once, and had, on +the whole, a bad night of it. He asked himself +a hundred questions that he could not answer––that +Sally Winthrop alone could answer. +Though it was only lately that he had +prided himself on knowing her desires in everything, +he was forced to leave all these questions +unanswered.</p> +<p>At ten the next morning he took the train +for Portland. At two he was on the train for +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_261' name='page_261'></a>261</span> +Brenton and hurrying through a strange country +to her side.</p> +<p>When he reached Brenton he was disappointed +not to find her when he stepped from +the train. The station had been so closely +identified with her through the long journey +that he had lost sight of the fact that it existed +for any other purpose. But only a few station +loafers were there to greet him, and they revealed +but an indifferent interest. He approached +one of them.</p> +<p>“Can you tell me where Miss Winthrop is +stopping?”</p> +<p>The man looked blank.</p> +<p>“No one of that name in this town,” he +finally answered.</p> +<p>“Isn’t this Brenton?”</p> +<p>“It’s Brenton, right enough.”</p> +<p>“Then she’s here,” declared Don.</p> +<p>“Is she visitin’?” inquired the man.</p> +<p>Don nodded.</p> +<p>“A cousin, or something.”</p> +<p>A second man spoke up:––</p> +<p>“Ain’t she the one who’s stopping with Mrs. +Halliday?”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_262' name='page_262'></a>262</span></div> +<p>“Rather slight, with brown eyes,” volunteered +Don.</p> +<p>“Dunno the color of her eyes,” answered the +first man, with a wink at the second. “But +thar’s some one stoppin’ thar. Been here couple +days or so.”</p> +<p>“That’s she,” Don decided.</p> +<p>He drew a dollar bill from his pocket.</p> +<p>“I want one of you to take a note to her from +me.”</p> +<p>He wrote on the back of a card:––</p> +<p>I’m at the station. I must see you at once.</p> +<blockquote> +<p><span class='smcap'>DON</span>.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>“Take that to her right away and bring me +an answer,” he ordered.</p> +<p>The man took both bill and card and disappeared.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_263' name='page_263'></a>263</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XXIX_MOSTLY_SALLY' id='CHAPTER_XXIX_MOSTLY_SALLY'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XXIX</h2> +<h3>MOSTLY SALLY</h3> +</div> +<p>It was an extremely frightened girl who within +five minutes appeared upon the station platform. +She was quite out of breath, for she had +been running. As he came toward her with +outstretched hands, she stared at him from +head to foot, as if to make sure he was not +minus an arm or a leg.</p> +<p>“Won’t you even shake hands with me?” he +asked anxiously.</p> +<p>“You––you gave me such a fright,” she +panted.</p> +<p>“How?”</p> +<p>“I thought––I thought you must have +been run over.”</p> +<p>He seemed rather pleased.</p> +<p>“And you cared?” he asked eagerly.</p> +<p>She was fast recovering herself now.</p> +<p>“Well, it wouldn’t be unnatural to care, +would it, if you expected to find a friend all +run over?”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_264' name='page_264'></a>264</span></div> +<p>“And, now that you find I’m not a mangled +corpse, you don’t care at all.”</p> +<p>Of course he wouldn’t choose to be a corpse, +because he would not have been able to enjoy +the situation; but, on the whole, he was sorry +that he did not have a mangled hand or something +to show. Evidently his whole hand did +not interest her––she had not yet offered to +take it.</p> +<p>“How in the world did you get here?” she +demanded.</p> +<p>“I took the train.”</p> +<p>“But––has anything happened?”</p> +<p>“Lots of things have happened,” he said. +“That’s what I want to tell you about.”</p> +<p>He looked around. His messenger was taking +an eager interest in the situation.</p> +<p>“That’s why I came to see you,” he explained. +“Of course, if it’s necessary to confide +also in your neighbor over there, I’ll do it; +but I thought that perhaps you could suggest +some less public place.”</p> +<p>She appeared frightened in a different sort +of way now.</p> +<p>“But, Mr. Pendleton––”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_265' name='page_265'></a>265</span></div> +<p>“I’m going to remain here perhaps a day or +two,” he interrupted.</p> +<p>To him the most obvious course was for her +to ask him to meet her aunt and invite him +to remain there.</p> +<p>“Is there a hotel in town?” he asked.</p> +<p>“I––I don’t think so,” she faltered.</p> +<p>“Then,” he decided, “I must find some sort +of camping-place. If you know a bit of woods +where I can spend the night, you might direct +me.”</p> +<p>He was quite himself now. It was a relief +to her. It put her quite off her guard.</p> +<p>“Won’t you come and meet my aunt?” she +invited.</p> +<p>He picked up his suitcase at once.</p> +<p>“It will be a pleasure,” he answered.</p> +<p>She could not imagine what her aunt would +think when she appeared so abruptly escorting +a young man with a suitcase, but that did not +seem to matter. She knew no better than her +aunt what had brought him here; but, now +that he was here, it was certain that she must +take care of him. She could not allow him to +wander homelessly around the village or permit +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_266' name='page_266'></a>266</span> +him to camp out like a gypsy. It did not +occur to her to reason that this predicament +was wholly his fault. All the old feeling of +responsibility came back.</p> +<p>As they walked side by side down the street, +he was amazed to see how much good even +these two days in the country had done her. +There was more color in her cheeks and more +life in her walk. She was wearing a middy +blouse, and that made her look five years +younger.</p> +<p>She looked up at him.</p> +<p>“I––I thought you had something very +important to do in these next few days,” she +reminded him.</p> +<p>“I have,” he answered.</p> +<p>“Then––I don’t understand how you came +here.”</p> +<p>On the train it had seemed to him that he +must explain within the first five minutes; but, +now that she was actually within sound of his +voice, actually within reach, there seemed to +be no hurry. In her presence his confidence +increased with every passing minute. For one +thing, he could argue with her, and whenever +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_267' name='page_267'></a>267</span> +in the past he had argued with her he had succeeded.</p> +<p>“I needed you to explain certain things to +me,” he replied.</p> +<p>She looked away from him.</p> +<p>“About what?” she asked quickly.</p> +<p>“About getting me married.”</p> +<p>“Oh!” she exclaimed.</p> +<p>He could not tell what she meant by the +little cry. He would have asked her had they +not at that moment turned into a gate that led +through an old-fashioned garden to a small +white cottage.</p> +<p>“I’ll have to run ahead and prepare Mrs. +Halliday,” she said.</p> +<p>So she left him upon the doorstep, and he +took off his hat to the cool, pine-laden breeze +that came from a mountain in the distance. +He liked this town at once. He liked the elm-lined +village street, and the snug white houses +and the quiet and content of it. Then he found +himself being introduced rather jerkily to Mrs. +Halliday––a tall, thin New England type, +with kindly eyes set in a sharp face. It was +evident at once that after her first keen inspection +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_268' name='page_268'></a>268</span> +of this stranger she was willing to accept +him with much less suspicion than Miss Winthrop.</p> +<p>“I told Sally this morning, when I spilled +the sugar, that a stranger was coming,” she exclaimed. +“Now you come right upstairs. I +reckon you’ll want to wash up after that long +ride.”</p> +<p>“It’s mighty good of you to take me in this +way,” he said.</p> +<p>“Laws sake, what’s a spare room for?”</p> +<p>She led the way to a small room with white +curtains at the windows and rag rugs upon the +floor and a big silk crazy-quilt on an old four-poster +bed. She hurried about and found soap +and towels for him, and left him with the hope +that he would make himself at home.</p> +<p>And at once he did feel at home. He felt at +home just because Sally Winthrop was somewhere +in the same house. That was the secret +of it. He had felt at home in the station as soon +as she appeared; he had felt at home in the village +because she had walked by his side; and +now he felt at home here. And by that he +meant that he felt very free and very happy and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_269' name='page_269'></a>269</span> +very much a part of any section of the world +she might happen to be in. It had been so in +New York, and it was so here.</p> +<p>He was downstairs again in five minutes, +looking for Sally Winthrop. It seemed that +Mrs. Halliday’s chief concern now was about +supper, and that Sally was out in the kitchen +helping her. He found that out by walking in +upon her and finding her in a blue gingham +apron. Her cheeks turned very red and she +hurriedly removed the apron.</p> +<p>“Don’t let me disturb you,” he protested.</p> +<p>That was very easy to say, but he did disturb +her. Then Mrs. Halliday shooed her out +of the kitchen.</p> +<p>“You run right along now; I can attend to +things myself.”</p> +<p>“I’d like to help, too,” said Don.</p> +<p>“Run along––both of you,” insisted Mrs. +Halliday. “You’d be more bother than +help.”</p> +<p>So the two found themselves on the front +steps again, and Don suggested they remain +there. The sun was getting low and bathing +the street in a soft light.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_270' name='page_270'></a>270</span></div> +<p>“I have something very important to say +to you,” he began.</p> +<p>“To me?” she exclaimed.</p> +<p>Again there was the expression of astonishment +and––something more.</p> +<p>“It’s about my getting married,” he +nodded.</p> +<p>“But I thought that was all settled!”</p> +<p>“It is,” he admitted.</p> +<p>“Oh!”</p> +<p>“I think it was settled long before I knew +it.”</p> +<p>“Then you’re to be married right away?”</p> +<p>“I hope so.”</p> +<p>“That will be nice.”</p> +<p>“It will be wonderful,” he exclaimed. “It +will be the most wonderful thing in the world!”</p> +<p>“But why did you come ’way down +here?”</p> +<p>“To talk it over with you. You see, a lot +depends upon you.”</p> +<p>“Me?”</p> +<p>Again that questioning personal pronoun.</p> +<p>“A great deal depends upon you. You are +to say when it is to be.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_271' name='page_271'></a>271</span></div> +<p>“Mr. Pendleton!”</p> +<p>“I wish you’d remember I’m not in the +office of Carter, Rand & Seagraves now. Can’t +you call me just Don?”</p> +<p>She did not answer.</p> +<p>“Because,” he explained, “I mean to call +you Sally.”</p> +<p>“You mustn’t.”</p> +<p>“I mean to call you that all the rest of my +life,” he went on more soberly. “Don’t you +understand how much depends upon you?”</p> +<p>Startled, she glanced up swiftly. What she +saw in his eyes made her catch her breath. He +was speaking rapidly now:––</p> +<p>“Everything depends upon you––upon no +one else in all the world but you. I discovered +that in less than a day after you left. It’s +been like that ever since I met you. I love you, +and I’ve come down here to marry you––to +take you back with me to the house that’s all +ready––back to the house you’ve made +ready.”</p> +<p>She gave a little cry and covered her face +with her hands.</p> +<p>“Don’t do that,” he pleaded.</p> +<div class='figtag'> +<a name='linki_4' id='linki_4'></a> +</div> +<div class='figcenter'> +<img src='images/i272.jpg' alt='' title='' width='342' height='402' /><br /> +<p class='caption'> +“IT’S ABOUT MY GETTING MARRIED”<br /> +</p> +</div> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_272' name='page_272'></a>272</span></div> +<p>She looked as if she were crying.</p> +<p>“Sally––Sally Winthrop, you aren’t crying?”</p> +<p>He placed a hand upon her arm.</p> +<p>“Don’t touch me!” she sobbed.</p> +<p>“Why shouldn’t I touch you?”</p> +<p>“Because––because this is all a horrible +mistake.”</p> +<p>“I’m trying to correct a horrible mistake,” +he answered gently.</p> +<p>“No––no––no. You must go back to her––right +away.”</p> +<p>“To Frances?”</p> +<p>She nodded.</p> +<p>“You don’t understand. She doesn’t want +to marry me.”</p> +<p>“You asked her?”</p> +<p>“Yes.”</p> +<p>“And then––and then you came to me?”</p> +<p>“Yes, little girl. She sent me to you. She––why, +it was she that made me see straight!”</p> +<p>Her face was still concealed.</p> +<p>“I––I wish you’d go away,” she sobbed.</p> +<p>“You don’t understand!” he answered +fiercely. “I’m not going away. I love you, and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_273' name='page_273'></a>273</span> +I’ve come to get you. I won’t go away until +you come with me.”</p> +<p>She rose to her feet, her back toward him.</p> +<p>“Go away!” she cried.</p> +<p>Then she ran into the house, leaving him +standing there dazed.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_274' name='page_274'></a>274</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XXX_DON_EXPLAINS' id='CHAPTER_XXX_DON_EXPLAINS'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XXX</h2> +<h3>DON EXPLAINS</h3> +</div> +<p>It seemed that, in spite of her business training +and the unsentimental outlook on life upon +which she had rather prided herself, Sally Winthrop +did not differ greatly from other women. +Shut up in her room, a deep sense of humiliation +overwhelmed her. He had asked this other +girl to marry him, and when she refused he had +come to her! He thought as lightly of her as +that––a mere second choice when the first was +made impossible. He had no justification for +that. This other had sent him to her––doubtless +with a smile of scorn upon her pretty +lips.</p> +<p>But what was she crying about and making +her nose all red? She should have answered +him with another smile and sent him back again. +Then he would have understood how little she +cared––would have understood that she did +not care enough even to feel the sting of such +an insult as this. For the two days she had +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_275' name='page_275'></a>275</span> +been here awaiting the announcement of his +marriage she had said over and over again that +she did not care––said it the first thing upon +waking and the last thing upon retiring. Even +when she woke up in the night, as she did many +times, she said it to herself. It had been a +great comfort to her, for it was a full and complete +answer to any wayward thoughts that +took her unaware.</p> +<p>She did not care about him, so what was she +sniveling about and making her nose all red? +She dabbed her handkerchief into her eyes and +sought her powder-box. If he had only kept +away from her everything would have been +all right. Within the next ten or eleven days +she would have readjusted herself and been +ready to take up her work again, with another +lesson learned. She would have gone back to +her room wiser and with still more confidence +in herself. And now he was downstairs, waiting +for her. There was no way she could escape +him. She must do all those things without the +help of seclusion. She must not care, with him +right before her eyes.</p> +<p>She began to cry again. It was not fair. It +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_276' name='page_276'></a>276</span> +was the sense of injustice that now broke her +down. She was doing her best, and no one +would help her. Even he made it as hard for +her as possible. On top of that he had added +this new insult. He wished a wife, and if he +could not have this one he would take that +one––as Farnsworth selected his stenographers. +He had come to her because she had +allowed herself to lunch with him and dine with +him and walk with him. He had presumed +upon what she had allowed herself to say to +him. Because she had interested herself in +him and tried to help him, he thought she was +to be as lightly considered as this. He had not +waited even a decent interval, but had come +to her direct from Frances––she of the scornful +smile.</p> +<p>Once again Sally stopped crying. If only +she could hold that smile before her, all might +yet be well. Whenever she looked into his eyes +and thought them tender, she must remember +that smile. Whenever his voice tempted her +against her reason, she must remember that––for +to-night, anyhow; and to-morrow he must +go back. Either that or she would leave. She +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_277' name='page_277'></a>277</span> +could not endure this very long––certainly +not for eleven days.</p> +<p>“Sally––where are you?”</p> +<p>It was Mrs. Halliday’s voice from downstairs.</p> +<p>“I’m coming,” she answered.</p> +<p>The supper was more of an epicurean than +a social success. Mrs. Halliday had made hot +biscuit, and opened a jar of strawberry preserves, +and sliced a cold chicken which she had +originally intended for to-morrow’s dinner; but, +in spite of that, she was forced to sit by and +watch her two guests do scarcely more than +nibble.</p> +<p>“I declare, I don’t think young folks eat as +much as they useter in my days,” she commented.</p> +<p>Don tried to excuse himself by referring to a +late dinner at Portland; but Sally, as usual, +had no excuse whatever. She was forced to +endure in silence the searching inquiry of Mrs. +Halliday’s eyes as well as Don’s. For the half-hour +they were at table she heartily wished she +was back again in her own room in New York. +There, at least, she would have been free to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_278' name='page_278'></a>278</span> +shut herself up, away from all eyes but her +own. Moreover, she had to look forward to +what she should do at the end of the meal. For +all she saw, she was going to be then in even a +worse plight than she was now. For he would +be able to talk, and she must needs answer and +keep from crying. Above all things else, she +must keep from crying. She did not wish him +to think her a little fool as well as other things.</p> +<p>She was forced to confess that after the first +five minutes Don did his best to relieve the +tension. He talked to Mrs. Halliday about one +thing and another, and kept on talking. And, +though it was quite evident to her that he had +no appetite, he managed to consume three of +the hot biscuit. After supper, when she rose +to help her aunt in the kitchen, he wished +also to help. But Mrs. Halliday would have +neither of them. That made it bad for her +again, for it left her with no alternative but to +sit again upon the front porch with him. So +there they were again, right back where they +started.</p> +<p>“What did you run into the house for?” he +demanded.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_279' name='page_279'></a>279</span></div> +<p>“Please let’s not talk any more, of that,” she +pleaded.</p> +<p>“But it’s the nub of the whole matter,” he +insisted.</p> +<p>“I went in because I did not want to talk +any more.”</p> +<p>“Very well. Then you needn’t talk. But +you can listen, can’t you?”</p> +<p>“That’s the same thing.”</p> +<p>“It’s exactly the opposite thing. You can +listen, and just nod or shake your head. Then +you won’t have to speak a word. Will you do +that?”</p> +<p>It was an absurd proposition, but she was +forced either to accept it or to run away again. +Somehow, it did not appear especially dignified +to keep on running away, when in the end +she must needs come back again. So she +nodded.</p> +<p>“Let’s go back to the beginning,” he suggested. +“That’s somewhere toward the middle +of my senior year. I’d known Frances before +that, but about that time she came on to +Boston, and we went to a whole lot of dances +and things together.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_280' name='page_280'></a>280</span></div> +<p>He paused a moment.</p> +<p>“I wish I’d brought a picture of her with +me,” he resumed thoughtfully, “because she’s +really a peach.”</p> +<p>Miss Winthrop looked up quickly. He was +apparently serious.</p> +<p>“She’s tall and dark and slender,” he went +on, “and when she’s all togged up she certainly +looks like a queen. She had a lot of friends in +town, and we kept going about four nights a +week. Then came the ball games, and then +Class Day. You ever been to Class Day?”</p> +<p>Miss Winthrop shook her head with a quick +little jerk.</p> +<p>“It’s all music and Japanese lanterns, and +if you’re sure of your degree it’s a sort of fairyland +where nothing is quite real. You just +feel at the time that it’s always going to be +like that. It was then I asked her to marry +me.”</p> +<p>Miss Winthrop was sitting with her chin in +her hands, looking intently at the brick path +leading to the house.</p> +<p>“You listening?”</p> +<p>She nodded jerkily.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_281' name='page_281'></a>281</span></div> +<p>“It seemed all right then. And it seemed all +right after that. Stuyvesant was agreeable +enough, and so I came on to New York. Then +followed Dad’s death. Dad was a queer sort, +but he was square as a die. I’m sorry he went +before he had a chance to meet you. I didn’t +realize what good pals we were until afterward. +But, anyway, he died, and he tied the property +all up as I’ve told you. Maybe he thought +if he didn’t I’d blow it in, because I see now +I’d been getting rid of a good many dollars. I +went to Frances and told her all about it, and +offered to cancel the engagement. But she was +a good sport and said she’d wait until I earned +ten thousand a year. You listening?”</p> +<p>She nodded.</p> +<p>“Because it’s right here you come in. I +was going to get it inside a year, and you know +just about how much chance I stood. But it +looked easy to her, because her father was pulling +down about that much a month, and not +killing himself either. I didn’t know any more +about it than she did; but the difference between +us was that as soon as I was on the inside +I learned a lot she didn’t learn. I learned +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_282' name='page_282'></a>282</span> +how hard it is to get ten thousand a year; more +than that, I learned how unnecessary it is to get +it. That’s what you taught me.”</p> +<p>“I––I didn’t mean to,” she interrupted.</p> +<p>“You’re talking,” he reminded her.</p> +<p>She closed her lips firmly together.</p> +<p>“Whether you meant to or not isn’t the +point. You did teach me that and a lot of +other things. I didn’t know it at the time, and +went plugging ahead, thinking everything was +just the same when it wasn’t at all. Frances +was headed one way and I was headed another. +Then she went abroad, and after that I learned +faster than ever. I learned what a home can +be made to mean, and work can be made to +mean, and life can be made to mean. All those +things you were teaching me. I didn’t know it, +and you didn’t know it, and Frances didn’t +know it. That ten thousand grew less and less +important to me, and all the while I thought +it must be growing less and less important to +her. I thought that way after the walks in the +park and the walks in the country and that +night at Coney.”</p> +<p>She shuddered.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_283' name='page_283'></a>283</span></div> +<p>“I thought it even after she came back––even +after my talk with Stuyvesant. He told +me I was a fool and that Frances wouldn’t listen +to me. I didn’t believe him and put it up +to her. And then––for the first time––I saw +that what I had been learning she had not been +learning.”</p> +<p>Don turned and looked at the girl by his side. +It was growing dark now, so that he could not +see her very well; but he saw that she was huddled +up as he had found her that day in the +little restaurant.</p> +<p>“Frances didn’t have the nerve to come +with me,” he said. “Her father stood in the +way, and she couldn’t get by him. I want to +be fair about this. At the beginning, if she’d +come with me I’d have married her––though +Lord knows how it would have worked out. +But she didn’t dare––and she’s a pretty good +sport, too. There’s a lot in her she doesn’t +know anything about. It would do her good to +know you.”</p> +<p>Again he paused. It was as if he were trying +hard to keep his balance.</p> +<p>“I want her to know you,” he went on. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_284' name='page_284'></a>284</span> +“Because, after all, it was she who made me +see you. There, in a second, in the park, she +pointed you out to me, until you stood before +me as clear as the star by the Big Dipper. She +said, ‘It’s some other girl you’re seeing in me––a +girl who would dare to go hungry with +you.’ Then I knew. So I came right to you.”</p> +<p>She was still huddled up.</p> +<p>“And here I am,” he concluded.</p> +<p>There he was. He did not need to remind +her of that. Even when she closed her eyes so +that she might not see him, she was aware of it. +Even when he was through talking and she did +not hear his voice, she was aware of it. And, +though she was miserable about it, she would +have been more miserable had he been anywhere +else.</p> +<p>“I’m here, little girl,” he said patiently.</p> +<p>“Even after I told you to go away,” she +choked.</p> +<p>“Even after you told me to go away.”</p> +<p>“If you only hadn’t come at all!”</p> +<p>“What else was there for me to do?”</p> +<p>“You––you could have gone to that camp +with her. She wanted you to go.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_285' name='page_285'></a>285</span></div> +<p>“I told her I couldn’t go there––long before +I knew why.”</p> +<p>“You could have gone––oh, there are so +many other places you could go! And this is +the only place I <i>could</i> go.”</p> +<p>“It’s the only place I could go, too. Honest, +it was. I’d have been miserable anywhere else, +and––well, you aren’t making it very comfortable +for me here.”</p> +<p>It seemed natural to have him blame her for +his discomfort when it was all his own fault. It +seemed so natural, in the midst of the confusion +of all the rest of the tangle, that it was restful.</p> +<p>“I’m sorry,” she said.</p> +<p>“That’s something,” he nodded.</p> +<p>“I––I guess the only thing for me to do is +to go away myself.”</p> +<p>“Where?”</p> +<p>“Back to New York. Oh, I wish I hadn’t +taken a vacation!”</p> +<p>“We’ll go back if you say so; but it seems +foolish after traveling all this distance.”</p> +<p>“I meant to go back alone,” she hastened to +correct him.</p> +<p>“And leave me with Mrs. Halliday?”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_286' name='page_286'></a>286</span></div> +<p>“Please don’t mix things all up!”</p> +<p>“It’s you who are mixing things all up,” +he said earnestly. “That isn’t like you, little +girl. It’s more like you to straighten things +out. There’s a straight road ahead of us now, +and if you’ll only take it we’ll never leave it +again. All we’ve got to do is to hunt up a parson +and get married, and then we’ll go anywhere +you say, or not go anywhere at all. It’s +as simple as that. Then, when our vacation is +up, I’ll go back to Carter, Rand & Seagraves, +and I’ll tell Farnsworth he’ll have to get a new +stenographer. Maybe he’ll discharge me for +that, but if he doesn’t I’ll tell him I want to +get out and sell. And then there’s nothing +more to it. With you to help––”</p> +<p>He tried to find her hands, but she had them +pressed over her eyes.</p> +<p>“With you back home to help,” he repeated––“there’s +not anything in the world we +won’t get.”</p> +<p>And the dream woman in Sally answered +to the woman on the steps:––</p> +<p>“There’s not anything more in the world +we’ll want when we’re home.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_287' name='page_287'></a>287</span></div> +<p>But Don did not hear that. All he heard +was a sigh. To the dream woman what he said +sounded like music; but the woman on the +steps answered cynically:––</p> +<p>“All he is saying to you now he said to +that other. There, where the music was playing +and the Japanese lanterns were bobbing, +he said it to her. That was a fairy world, +as this is a fairy night; but back in New York +it will all be different. There are no fairies in +New York. Every time you have thought +there were, you have been disappointed.”</p> +<p>She rose swiftly to her feet.</p> +<p>“Oh, we mustn’t talk about it!” she exclaimed.</p> +<p>He too rose, and he placed both his hands +upon her shoulders.</p> +<p>“I don’t understand,” he said quickly. +“What is it you don’t believe?”</p> +<p>“I don’t believe in fairies,” she answered +bitterly.</p> +<p>“Don’t you believe that I love you?”</p> +<p>“To-night––perhaps,” she answered.</p> +<p>Her eyes were not meeting his.</p> +<p>“You don’t believe my love will last?”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_288' name='page_288'></a>288</span></div> +<p>“I––I don’t know.”</p> +<p>“Because of Frances?”</p> +<p>“Everything is so different in New York,” +she answered.</p> +<p>“Because of Frances?”</p> +<p>She was not sure enough herself to answer +that. She did not wish to be unfair. He removed +his hands from her shoulders and stood +back a little.</p> +<p>“I thought you’d understand about her. I +thought you were the one woman in the world +who’d understand.”</p> +<p>She looked up quickly.</p> +<p>“Perhaps it’s easier for men to understand +those things than women,” she said.</p> +<p>“There’s so little to understand.”</p> +<p>As he spoke, truly it seemed so. But it was +always that way when she was with him. Always, +if she was not very careful, he made her +see exactly as he saw. It was so at Jacques’; +it was so at Coney. But her whole life was at +stake now. If she made a mistake, one way or +the other, she must live it out––in New York. +She must be by herself when she reached her +decision.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_289' name='page_289'></a>289</span></div> +<p>“In the morning,” she gasped.</p> +<p>“All right,” he answered.</p> +<p>He took her hand––catching her unawares.</p> +<p>“See,” he said. “Up there is the star I gave +you. It will always be there––always be yours. +And, if you can, I want you to think of me as +like that star.”</p> +<p>Upstairs in her room that night, Miss Winthrop +sat by her window and tried to place +herself back in New York––back in the office +of Carter, Rand & Seagraves. It was there, +after all, and not up among the stars, that she +had gained her experience of men.</p> +<p>From behind her typewriter she had watched +them come and go, or if they stayed had +watched them in the making. It was from behind +her typewriter she had met Don. She +remembered every detail of that first day: how +he stood at the ticker like a boy with a new +toy, waiting for Farnsworth; how he came from +Farnsworth’s office and took a seat near her, +and for the next half-hour watched her fingers +until she became nervous. At first she thought +he was going to be “fresh.” Her mind was +made up to squelch him at the first opportunity. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_290' name='page_290'></a>290</span> +Yet, when it had come lunch-time and +he sat on, not knowing what to do, she had +taken pity on him. She knew he would sit on +there until night unless some one showed an +interest in him. She was glad now that she +had, because he had been hungry. Had it +not been for her, he would not have had anything +to eat all day––possibly not all that +week. She would never cease being glad that +she had discovered this fact in time.</p> +<p>But she had intended that her interest should +cease, once she had made sure that he was fed +and in receipt of his first week’s salary. That +much she would do for any man, good, bad, or +indifferent. That was all she had intended. +She could say that honestly. When he had +appeared at her lunch-place the second and +third time, she had resented it. But she had +also welcomed his coming. And, when she +had bidden him not to come, she had missed +him.</p> +<p>Right here she marked a distinction between +him and the others. She missed him outside +the office––not only at noon, but at night. +When she had opened that absurd box of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_291' name='page_291'></a>291</span> +flowers, she brought him into her room with +her. She saw now that at the precise moment +she opened that box she had lost her point of +view. If she had wished to maintain it, she +should have promptly done the box up again +and sent it back to him.</p> +<p>After this their relation had changed. There +could be no doubt about that. However, except +for the initial fault of not returning the +roses, she could not see where it was distinctly +her fault. She had gone on day after +day, unaware that any significant change was +taking place. There had been the dinner at +Jacques’, and then––</p> +<p>With her chin in her hands, she sat by the +open window and lived over again those days. +Her eyes grew afire and her cheeks grew rosy +and a great happiness thrilled her. So––until +they reached that night at Coney and Frances +smiled through the dark at her.</p> +<p>Then she sprang to her feet and paced the +floor, with the color gone from her cheeks. +During all those glorious days this other girl +had been in the background of his thoughts. +It was for her he had been working––of her +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_292' name='page_292'></a>292</span> +he had been thinking. She clenched her hands +and faced the girl.</p> +<p>“Why didn’t you stay home with him, +then?” she cried. “You left him to me and I +took care of him. He’d have lost his position +if it hadn’t been for me.</p> +<p>“I kept after him until he made good,” she +went on. “I saw that he came to work on time, +I showed him what to learn. It was I, not you, +that made him.”</p> +<p>She was speaking out loud––fiercely. Suddenly +she stopped. She raised her eyes to the +window––to the little star by the Big Dipper. +Gently, as a mother speaks, she said again:––</p> +<p>“I made him––not you.”</p> +<p>Sally Winthrop sank into a chair. She began +to cry––but softly now.</p> +<p>“You’re mine, Don,” she whispered. “You’re +mine because I took care of you.”</p> +<p>A keen breeze from the mountains swept in +upon her. She rose and stole across the hall to +Mrs. Halliday’s room. That good woman +awoke with a start.</p> +<p>“What is it?” she exclaimed.</p> +<p>“Oh, I’m sorry if I woke you,” answered +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_293' name='page_293'></a>293</span> +the girl. “But it’s turned cold, and I wondered +if Don––if Mr. Pendleton had enough bedclothes.”</p> +<p>“Laws sake,” answered Mrs. Halliday. “I +gave him two extra comforters, and if that +ain’t enough he deserves to freeze.”</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_294' name='page_294'></a>294</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XXXI_SALLY_DECIDES' id='CHAPTER_XXXI_SALLY_DECIDES'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XXXI</h2> +<h3>SALLY DECIDES</h3> +</div> +<p>The clarion call of Mrs. Halliday’s big red +rooster announcing fervently his discovery of +a thin streak of silver light in the east brought +Don to his elbow with a start. For a moment +he could not place himself, and then, as he realized +where he was and what this day meant for +him, he took a long deep breath.</p> +<p>“In the morning,” she had said.</p> +<p>Technically it was now morning, though his +watch informed him that it was not yet five. +By now, then, she had made her decision. +Somewhere in this old house, perhaps within +sound of his voice, she was waiting with the +verdict that was to decide whether he was +going back to New York the happiest or the +unhappiest man in all Christendom. No, that +was not quite right either. Even if she said +“No” that would not decide it. It would mean +only another day of waiting, because he was +going to keep right on trying to make her +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_295' name='page_295'></a>295</span> +understand––day after day, all summer and +next winter and the next summer if necessary. +He was going to do that because, if he ever let +go of this hope, then he would be letting go +of everything.</p> +<p>He found it quite impossible to sleep again +and equally impossible to lie there awake. +Jumping from bed he dressed, shaved, and went +downstairs, giving Mrs. Halliday the start of +her life when he came upon her as she was +kindling the kitchen fire.</p> +<p>“Land sakes alive,” she gasped, “I didn’t +expect to see you for a couple hours.”</p> +<p>“I know it’s early,” he answered uncomfortably; +“I don’t suppose Sally is up?”</p> +<p>Mrs. Halliday touched a match to the kindling +and put the stove covers back in place.</p> +<p>“There isn’t anything lazy about Sally, +but she generally does wait until the sun is up,” +she returned.</p> +<p>She filled the teakettle and then, adjusting +her glasses, took a more critical look at Don.</p> +<p>“Wasn’t ye warm enough last night?” she +demanded.</p> +<p>“Plenty, thank you,” he answered.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_296' name='page_296'></a>296</span></div> +<p>“Perhaps bein’ in new surroundings bothered +you,” she suggested; “I can’t ever sleep +myself till I git used to a place.”</p> +<p>“I slept like a log,” he assured her.</p> +<p>“Is this the time ye ginerally git up in New +York?”</p> +<p>“Not quite as early as this,” he admitted. +“But, you see, that rooster––”</p> +<p>“I see,” she nodded. “And ye kind of hoped +it might wake up Sally too?”</p> +<p>“I took a chance,” he smiled.</p> +<p>“Well, now, as long as ye seem so anxious +I’ll tell ye something; maybe it did. Anyhow, +I heard her movin’ round afore I came down. +Draw a chair up to the stove and make yourself +comfortable.”</p> +<p>“Thanks.”</p> +<p>The dry heat from the burning wood was +already warming the room. Outside he heard +the morning songs of the birds. It no longer +seemed early to him. It was as though the +world were fully awake, just because he knew +now that Sally was awake. For a few minutes +Mrs. Halliday continued her tasks as though +unmindful that he was about. It was such a +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_297' name='page_297'></a>297</span> +sort of friendly acceptance of him as part of +the household that he began to feel as much +at home here as though it were his usual custom +to appear at this hour. There was something +more friendly about even Mrs. Halliday’s +back than about the faces of a great +many people he knew. It looked as though it +had borne a great many burdens, but having +borne them sturdily was ready for more. It +invited confidences. Then the teakettle began +to bubble and sing and that invited confidences +too. He was choking with things he +wished to say––preferably to Sally herself, +but if that were not possible, then Mrs. Halliday +was certainly the next best confidante. +Besides, being the closest relative of Sally’s +it was only fitting and proper that she should +be told certain facts. Sooner or later she must +know and now seemed a particularly opportune +time. Don rose and moved his chair to +attract her attention.</p> +<p>“Mrs. Halliday––” he began.</p> +<p>“Wal?” she replied, without turning. She +was at that moment busy over the biscuit +board.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_298' name='page_298'></a>298</span></div> +<p>“There’s something I think I ought to tell +you.”</p> +<p>She turned instantly at that––turned, adjusted +her spectacles, and waited.</p> +<p>“I––I’ve asked Sally to marry me,” he +confessed.</p> +<p>For a moment her thin, wrinkled face +remained immobile. Then he saw a smile +brighten the shrewd gray eyes.</p> +<p>“You don’t say!” she answered. “I’ve been +wonderin’ just how long ye’d be tellin’ me +that.”</p> +<p>“You knew? Sally told you?” he exclaimed.</p> +<p>“Not in so many words, as ye might say,” +she answered. “But laws sake, when a girl +wakes me up to say she doesn’t think a young +man has blankets enough on his bed in this kind +of weather––”</p> +<p>“She did that?” interrupted Don.</p> +<p>“Thet’s jest what she did. But long afore +thet you told me yourself.”</p> +<p>“I?”</p> +<p>“Of course. It’s jest oozin’ out all over +you.”</p> +<p>She came nearer. For a second Don felt as +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_299' name='page_299'></a>299</span> +though those gray eyes were boring into his +soul.</p> +<p>“Look here, young man,” she said. “What +did Sally say?”</p> +<p>“She said she’d let me know this morning,” +he answered.</p> +<p>“And you’ve been blamin’ my old rooster +for gettin’ you up?”</p> +<p>“Not blaming him exactly,” he apologized.</p> +<p>“And you aren’t sure whether she’s goin’ +to say yes or goin’ to say no?”</p> +<p>Don’s lips tightened.</p> +<p>“I’m not sure whether she’s going to say +yes or no this morning. But, believe me, Mrs. +Halliday, before she dies she’s going to say yes.”</p> +<p>Mrs. Halliday nodded approvingly. She +went further; she placed a thin hand on Don’s +shoulder. It was like a benediction. His heart +warmed as though it had been his mother’s +hand there.</p> +<p>“Don,” she said, as naturally as though she +had been saying it all her life, “I don’t know +much about you in one way. But I like your +face and I like your eyes. I go a lot by a man’s +eyes. More’n that, I know Sally, and there +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_300' name='page_300'></a>300</span> +was never a finer, honester girl made than she +is. If she has let you go as far as this, I don’t +think I’d worry myself to death.”</p> +<p>“That’s the trouble,” he answered. “She +didn’t let me go as far as this. I––I just +went.”</p> +<p>Mrs. Halliday smiled again.</p> +<p>“Mebbe you think so,” she admitted.</p> +<p>“You see––” he stammered.</p> +<p>But at that moment he heard a rustle of +skirts behind him. There stood Sally herself––her +cheeks very red, with a bit of a frown +above her eyes. It was Mrs. Halliday who +saved the day.</p> +<p>“Here, now, you two,” she stormed as she +went back to her biscuit board. “Both of you +clear out of here until breakfast is ready. You +belong outdoors where the birds are singing.”</p> +<p>“I’ll set the table, Aunty,” replied Sally +grimly.</p> +<p>“You’ll do nothing of the kind,” replied +Mrs. Halliday.</p> +<p>She crossed the room and, taking Sally by +one arm she took Don by the other. She led +them to the door.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_301' name='page_301'></a>301</span></div> +<p>“Out with you,” she commanded.</p> +<p>Alone with her Don turned to seek Sally’s +eyes and saw the frown still there.</p> +<p>“I––I told her,” he admitted; “I couldn’t +help it. I’ve been up for an hour and I had to +talk to some one.”</p> +<p>He took her arm.</p> +<p>“You’ve decided?” he asked.</p> +<p>His face was so tense, his voice so eager, that +it was as much as she could do to remain vexed. +Still, she resented the fact that he had spoken +to her aunt without authority. It was a presumption +that seemed to take for granted her +answer. It was as though he thought only one +answer possible.</p> +<p>“Heart of me,” he burst out, “you’ve decided?”</p> +<p>“You––you had no right to tell her,” she +answered.</p> +<p>“Come down the road a bit,” he pleaded.</p> +<p>He led her down the path and along the +country road between fields wet with dew. The +air was clean and sweet and the sky overhead +a spotless blue. It was the freshest and cleanest +world he had ever seen and she was one with it.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_302' name='page_302'></a>302</span></div> +<p>“I only told her what she already knew,” +he said.</p> +<p>“She knew?”</p> +<p>He spoke in a lower voice––a voice gentle +and trembling.</p> +<p>“She said you came in last night after she +had gone asleep––”</p> +<p>Sally covered her face with her hands.</p> +<p>“Oh,” she gasped, “she––she told you +that?”</p> +<p>He reached up and gently removed her +hands. He held them tight in both of his.</p> +<p>“It was good of you to think of me like +that. It was like you,” he said.</p> +<p>All the while he was drawing her nearer +and nearer to him. She resisted. At least she +thought she was resisting, but it didn’t seem +to make any difference. Nearer his eyes came +to hers; nearer his lips came to hers. She gave +a quick gasp as one before sudden danger. +Then she felt his warm lips against hers and +swayed slightly. But his arms were about her. +They were strong about her, so that, while +she felt as though hanging dizzily over a precipice, +she at the same moment never felt safer +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_303' name='page_303'></a>303</span> +in her life. With his lips against her lips, she +closed her eyes until, to keep from losing herself +completely, she broke free. Her cheeks +scarlet, her breath coming short, her eyes like +stars, she stared at him a moment, and then +like a startled fawn turned and ran for the +house. He followed, but her feet were tipped +with wings. He did not catch her until she +had burst into the kitchen, where in some fear +Mrs. Halliday gathered her into her arms.</p> +<p>“She hasn’t answered me even yet,” he explained +to Mrs. Halliday.</p> +<p>“Oh, Don,” cried the trembling girl, her +voice smothered in Mrs. Halliday’s shoulder. +“You dare say that after––”</p> +<p>“Well, after what?” demanded Mrs. Halliday.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_304' name='page_304'></a>304</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XXXII_BARTON_APPEARS' id='CHAPTER_XXXII_BARTON_APPEARS'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XXXII</h2> +<h3>BARTON APPEARS</h3> +</div> +<p>The details of the wedding Mrs. Halliday decided +to take over into her own hands.</p> +<p>“You two can just leave that to me,” she +informed them.</p> +<p>“But look here,” protested Don, “I don’t +see why we need bother with a lot of fuss +and––”</p> +<p>“What business is this of yours?” Mrs. +Halliday challenged him.</p> +<p>“Only we haven’t much time,” he warned.</p> +<p>“There’s going to be time enough for Sally +to be married properly,” she decided.</p> +<p>That was all there was to it. It seems that +tucked away up in the attic there was an old +trunk and tucked away in that a wedding +dress of white silk which had been worn by +Sally’s mother.</p> +<p>“It’s been kept ag’in’ this very day,” explained +Mrs. Halliday, “though I will say that +I was beginnin’ to git discouraged.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_305' name='page_305'></a>305</span></div> +<p>The dress was brought out, and no more +auspicious omen could have been furnished +Mrs. Halliday than the fact that, except in +several unimportant details, Sally could have +put it on and worn it, just as it was. Not only +did it fit, but the intervening years had brought +back into style again the very mode in which +it had been designed, so that, had she gone to a +Fifth Avenue dressmaker, she could have found +nothing more in fashion. Thus it was possible +to set the wedding date just four days off, for +Saturday. That was not one moment more of +time than Mrs. Halliday needed in which to +put the house in order––even with the hearty +coöperation of Don, who insisted upon doing +his part, which included the washing of all the +upper windows.</p> +<p>Those were wonderful days for him. For +one thing he discovered that not only had +there been given into his keeping the clear-seeing, +steady-nerved, level-headed woman +who had filled so large a share of his life this +last year, but also another, who at first startled +him like some wood nymph leaping into +his path. She was so young, so vibrant with +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_306' name='page_306'></a>306</span> +life, so quick with her smiles and laughter––this +other. It was the girl in her, long suppressed, +because in the life she had been leading +in town there had been no playground. Her +whole attention there had been given to the +subjection of the wild impulses in which she +now indulged. She laughed, she ran, she reveled +in being just her care-free, girlish self. +Don watched her with a new thrill. He felt as +though she were taking him back to her early +youth––as though she were filling up for him +all those years of her he had missed.</p> +<p>At night, about the usual time he was dining +in town, Mrs. Halliday insisted that Sally +should go to bed, as she herself did, which, of +course, left Don no alternative but to go himself. +There was no possible object in his remaining +up after Sally was out of sight. But +the early morning belonged to her and to him. +At dawn he rose and when he came downstairs, +he found her waiting for him. Though Mrs. +Halliday protested that Sally was losing her +beauty sleep she was not able to produce any +evidence to prove it. If any one could look +any fresher or more wonderful than Sally, as +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_307' name='page_307'></a>307</span> +she stepped out of the house by his side into +the light of the newborn day, then there was +no sense in it, because, as she was then, she +filled his eyes and his heart to overflowing. +She wore no hat, but except for this detail he +was never conscious of how she was dressed. +There was always too much to occupy him in +her brown eyes, in her mouth, which, while +losing nothing of its firmness, had acquired a +new gentleness. He had always thought of her +lips as cold, but he knew them better now. At +the bend in the road where he had kissed her +first, he kissed her again every morning. She +always protested. That was instinctive. But +in the end she submitted, because it always +seemed so many hours since she had seen him +last, and because she made him understand +that not until the next day could he expect +this privilege.</p> +<p>“What’s the use of being engaged if I can’t +kiss you as often as I wish?” he demanded +once.</p> +<p>“We’re engaged in order to be married,” +she explained.</p> +<p>“And after we are married––”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_308' name='page_308'></a>308</span></div> +<p>“You wait and see,” she answered, her +cheeks as red as any schoolgirl’s.</p> +<p>“But that’s three days off,” he complained.</p> +<p>Even to her, happy as she was, confident as +she was, the interval to Saturday sometimes +seemed like a very long space of time. For one +thing, she felt herself at night in the grip of a +kind of foreboding absolutely foreign to her. +Perhaps it was a natural reaction from the high +tension of the day, but at night she sometimes +found herself starting to her elbow in an agony +of fear. Before the day came, something would +happen to Don, because such happiness as +this was not meant for her. She fell a victim +to all manner of wild fears and extravagant +fancies. On the second night there was a +heavy thunderstorm. She did not mind such +things ordinarily. The majesty of the darting +light and the rolling crash of the thunder always +thrilled her. But this evening the sky was +blotted out utterly and quick light shot from +every point of the compass at once. As peal +followed peal, the house shook. Even then it +was not of herself she thought. She had no +fear except for Don. This might be the explanation +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_309' name='page_309'></a>309</span> +of her foreboding. It happened, too, +that his room was beneath the big chimney +where if the house were hit the bolt would be +most apt to strike. Dressing hastily in her +wrapper and bedroom slippers, she stole into +the hall. A particularly vicious flash illuminated +the house for a second and then plunged +it into darkness. She crept to Don’s very door. +There she crouched, resolved that the same +bolt should kill them both. There she remained, +scarcely daring to breathe until the +shower passed.</p> +<p>It was a silly thing to do. When she came +back to her own room, her cheeks were burning +with shame. The next morning she was +miserable in fear lest he discover her weakness. +He did not, though he marveled at a new tenderness +in her that had been born in the night.</p> +<p>The fourth day broke fair and Don found +himself busy until noon helping with the +decorations of green and of wild flowers; for +though only a dozen or so neighbors had been +asked, Mrs. Halliday was thorough in whatever +she undertook. Had she been expecting a +hundred she could have done no more in the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_310' name='page_310'></a>310</span> +way of preparation except perhaps to increase +the quantity of cake and ices.</p> +<p>Don himself had asked no one except old +Barton, of Barton & Saltonstall, and him he +did not expect, although he had received no +reply to his invitation. What, then, was his +surprise when toward the middle of the forenoon, +as he was going into the house with an +armful of pine boughs, he heard a voice behind +him,––</p> +<p>“How do, Don?”</p> +<p>Turning, he saw Barton in a frock coat and +a tall hat that he might have worn last at +Pendleton, Senior’s, wedding.</p> +<p>“For Heaven’s sake!” exclaimed Don, +dropping his pine boughs on the doorstep and +rushing to meet him. “I call this mighty good +of you.”</p> +<p>“I could hardly do less for Pendleton’s boy,” +answered Barton.</p> +<p>“Well, sir, you’re mighty welcome. Come +right in. Oh, Sally,” he called.</p> +<p>Sally came on the run, not knowing what +had happened. She wore a calico apron and +had not found time to do her hair since morning. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_311' name='page_311'></a>311</span> +It was not exactly the costume she would +have chosen in which first to meet Mr. Barton. +Her cheeks showed it.</p> +<p>“Sally,” said Don, “this is Mr. Barton––my +father’s lawyer. Mr. Barton, this is Miss +Winthrop.”</p> +<p>Barton bowed low with old-fashioned courtesy. +Then he allowed his keen gray eyes to +rest a moment upon hers.</p> +<p>“I am very glad to meet you,” he said.</p> +<p>“Will you come in?” she asked. “I’m afraid +the house is very much in disorder just now, +but I want you to meet my aunt.”</p> +<p>Mrs. Halliday was scarcely more presentable +than Miss Winthrop, but the latter found +a certain relief in that fact.</p> +<p>“I’m glad to know you,” Mrs. Halliday +greeted him cordially.</p> +<p>But what to do with him at just this time +was a problem which would have baffled her +had he not solved it for himself.</p> +<p>“Please don’t let me interrupt the preparations,” +he begged. “I should not have ventured +here––at just this time––except that I +wanted to see Don about a few legal matters.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_312' name='page_312'></a>312</span></div> +<p>“Mr. Barton,” explained Don to Sally, “is +the man who had the pleasant duty thrust +upon him of telling me that I was cut off without +a cent.”</p> +<p>“It was an unpleasant duty,” nodded Barton, +“but I hope it may be my good fortune +to make up for that.”</p> +<p>“I’m afraid the only place you can sit is on +the front doorstep,” laughed Sally.</p> +<p>“As good a place as any,” answered Don, +leading the way.</p> +<p>“Well,” asked Don good-naturedly as soon +as they were seated there, “what’s the trouble +now? I tell you right off it’s got to be +something mighty serious to jar me any at just +this time.”</p> +<p>“There was still another codicil to your +father’s will,” explained Barton at once––“a +codicil I have not been at liberty to read to +you until now. It had, in fact, no point except +in the contingency of your marriage.”</p> +<p>“I hope you aren’t going to take the house +away from me,” scowled Don.</p> +<p>“No,” answered Barton slowly. “It has to +do rather with an additional provision. The +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_313' name='page_313'></a>313</span> +substance of it is that in case you married any +one––er––meeting with my approval, you +were to be given an allowance of two thousand +a year.”</p> +<p>“Eh?”</p> +<p>“Two thousand a year. After that, one +thousand a year additional for each child +born of that marriage until the total allowance +amounts to five thousand dollars. At that +point the principal itself is to be turned over to +you.”</p> +<p>“Oh, Sally!” called Don.</p> +<p>She came running again. It was still four +hours before they would be safely married and +many things might happen in four hours.</p> +<p>“Sit down here and listen to this,” he commanded. +“Now, do you mind saying that all +over again?”</p> +<p>Barton repeated his statement.</p> +<p>“What do you think of that?” inquired Don. +“It’s just as though I had my salary raised two +thousand a year. Not only that––but the +rest is up to you.”</p> +<p>“Don!”</p> +<p>“Well, it is.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_314' name='page_314'></a>314</span></div> +<p>“And besides,” she gasped, “Mr. Barton +has not yet said he approves.”</p> +<p>Mr. Barton arose.</p> +<p>“May I say that at once?” he smiled. “I do +not think I have always given Don as much +credit for his good judgment as I feel he should +have been given.”</p> +<p>“Good old Barton!” choked Don.</p> +<p>“There’s one thing more,” said Barton––“a––a +little present for myself.”</p> +<p>He handed Don an envelope.</p> +<p>“Thank you, sir,” said Don, thrusting it +unopened in his pocket. “And now it seems +to me the least the bride can do is to let you +kiss her.”</p> +<p>“I’m not a bride yet,” answered Sally demurely, +“but––”</p> +<p>She came to Barton’s side and he kissed her +on the cheek.</p> +<p>“It’s too bad that Pendleton couldn’t have +lived to know his son’s wife,” he said.</p> +<p>A little later Don gave Sally the envelope +to open. It contained a check for five hundred +dollars.</p> +<p>“Good Heavens!” exclaimed Don, “we’re +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_315' name='page_315'></a>315</span> +rolling in wealth. I guess when we get back +to town we’ll have to buy a car.”</p> +<p>“When we get back to town we’ll open a +bank account,” corrected Sally.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_316' name='page_316'></a>316</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XXXIII_A_BULLY_WORLD' id='CHAPTER_XXXIII_A_BULLY_WORLD'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XXXIII</h2> +<h3>A BULLY WORLD</h3> +</div> +<p>As Sally came down the stairs at a quarter of +three in her white silk wedding gown the wonder +was how, after a morning of such honest +hard work as she had put in, it was possible +for her to look so fresh. Many a town bride, +after spending the entire morning resting in +preparation for such an event, has at the last +moment failed to turn up with such apple-red +cheeks or brilliant eyes. There was a gently +serious expression about her mouth, to be +sure, but that was not due to fatigue. In spite +of her light-heartedness during the last few +days she had been all the while keenly conscious +that she was accepting a great responsibility. +She was about to marry not only a +lover, but a man whose future was to be in her +keeping. Among other things he was to be a +future partner in the firm of Carter, Rand & +Seagraves, and that meant several years of +very hard work ahead of them. Then there +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_317' name='page_317'></a>317</span> +were the secret responsibilities––the unborn +responsibilities. These were not very definite, +to be sure, but she felt them, timidly, gravely, +in queer little tuggings at her heart.</p> +<p>When finally she stood in front of the clergyman +with Don by her side, she felt, not that +she was in a bower of wild flowers, but before +an altar. The ritual for her had a deeply religious +significance. She made her responses in +a steady voice heard by every one in the room. +When she made the promise “to love, cherish, +and obey,” she spoke it as though she meant +it. It did not disturb her in the slightest to +utter the word “obey,” because she knew well +that whatever commands came to her from +Don would be of her own inspiring. To her +this promise was no more than an agreement +to obey her own best impulses.</p> +<p>The service seemed almost too brief for so +solemn an undertaking, but when it was over, +she reached for Don’s hand and took it in a +hearty grip that was more of a pledge than the +ring itself. It sent a tingle to his heart and +made his lips come together––the effect, a +hundred times magnified, of the coach’s slap +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_318' name='page_318'></a>318</span> +upon the back that used to thrill him just before +he trotted on the field before a big game. +He felt that the harder the obstacles to be +overcome for her dear sake, the better. He +would like to have had a few at that moment as +a relief to his pent-up emotions.</p> +<p>He remembered in a sort of impatient daze +the congratulations that followed––with the +faces of Mrs. Halliday and Barton standing +out a trifle more prominently––and then the +luncheon. It seemed another week before she +went upstairs to change into her traveling-dress; +another week before she reappeared. +Then came good-byes and the shower of rice, +with an old shoe or so mixed in. He had sent +her trunk the day before to the mountain +hotel where they were to be for a week, but +they walked to the station, he carrying her +suitcase. Then he found himself on the train, +and in another two hours they were at the +hotel. It was like an impossible dream come +true when finally they stood for the first time +alone––she as his wife. He held out his arms +to her and she came this time without protest.</p> +<p>“Heart of mine,” he whispered as he kissed +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_319' name='page_319'></a>319</span> +her lips again and again,––“heart of mine, +this is a bully old world.”</p> +<p>“You’ve made it that, Don.”</p> +<p>“I? I haven’t had anything to do about it +except to get you.”</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_320' name='page_320'></a>320</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XXXIV_DON_MAKES_GOOD' id='CHAPTER_XXXIV_DON_MAKES_GOOD'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XXXIV</h2> +<h3>DON MAKES GOOD</h3> +</div> +<p>They had not one honeymoon, but two or +three. When they left the hotel and came back +to town, it was another honeymoon to enter +together the house in which she had played so +important a part without ever having seen it. +When they stepped out of the cab she insisted +upon first seeing it from the outside, instead +of rushing up the steps as he was for doing.</p> +<p>“Don,” she protested, “I––I don’t want +to have such a pleasure over with all at once. +I want to get it bit by bit.”</p> +<p>There was not much to see, to be sure, but a +door and a few windows––a section similar to +sections to the right and left of which it was a +part. But it was a whole house, a house with +lower stories and upper stories and a roof––all +his, all hers. To her there was something +still unreal about it.</p> +<p>He humored her delay, though Nora was +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_321' name='page_321'></a>321</span> +standing impatiently at the door, anxious to +see the Pendleton bride. But when she finally +did enter, Nora, at the smile she received, had +whatever fears might have been hers instantly +allayed.</p> +<p>“Gawd bless ye,” she beamed.</p> +<p>Sally refused to remove her wraps until she +had made her inspection room by room, sitting +down in each until she had grasped every detail. +So they went from the first floor to the +top floor and came back to the room which +he had set apart for their room.</p> +<p>“Does it suit you, wife of mine?” he asked.</p> +<p>With the joy of it all, her eyes filled.</p> +<p>“It’s even more beautiful than I thought it +would be,” she trembled.</p> +<p>For him the house had changed the moment +she stepped into it. With his father alive, it had +been his father’s home rather than his; with his +father gone, it had been scarcely more than a +convenient resting-place. There had been moments––when +he thought of Frances here––that +it had taken on more significance, but even +this had been due to Sally. When he thought +he was making the house ready for another, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_322' name='page_322'></a>322</span> +it had been her dear hand who had guided him. +How vividly now he recalled that dinner at +the little French restaurant when he had described +his home to her––the home which was +now her home too. It was at that moment she +had first made her personality felt here.</p> +<p>Sally removed her hat and tidied her hair +before the mirror in quite as matter-of-fact a +fashion as though she had been living here +ever since that day instead of only the matter +of a few minutes. When she came downstairs, +Nora herself seemed to accept her on that +basis. To her suggestions, she replied, “Yes, +Mrs. Pendleton,” as glibly as though she had +been saying it all her life.</p> +<p>They returned on a Saturday. On Monday +Don was to go back to the office. Sally had +sent in her resignation the day of her marriage +and had received nice letters from both Carter +and Farnsworth, with a check enclosed from +the former for fifty dollars and from the latter +for twenty-five dollars.</p> +<p>“What I’ll have to do,” said Don, as he retired +Sunday night, “is to get a larger alarm-clock. +It won’t do to be late any more.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_323' name='page_323'></a>323</span></div> +<p>“You’re right,” agreed Sally. “But you +won’t need an alarm-clock.”</p> +<p>“Eh?”</p> +<p>“You wait and see.”</p> +<p>Sally was awake at six the next morning and +Don himself less than one minute after.</p> +<p>“Time to get up,” she called.</p> +<p>“I’m sleepy,” murmured Don.</p> +<p>“Then to-morrow night you’ll get to bed +one hour earlier. But––up with you.”</p> +<p>“Right-o,” he answered as he sprang from +bed. “But there’s no need of your getting up.”</p> +<p>“I’d be ashamed of myself if I didn’t.”</p> +<p>She had breakfast with him that first work +morning as she planned to do every morning +of her life after that.</p> +<p>“Now, Don,” she warned as he was ready +to leave, “mind you don’t say anything about +a raise in salary for a little while yet. I know +Farnsworth, and he’ll give it to you the moment +he feels you’ve made good. Besides, we +can afford to wait and––I don’t know as I +want you to have any more money than you +have now. It’s ridiculous for you to have that +two thousand from your father.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_324' name='page_324'></a>324</span></div> +<p>“I guess we can use it, little woman,” he +laughed.</p> +<p>“We can save it,” she insisted. “And, of +course, it’s pretty nice to have an emergency +fund, only it sort of takes half the fun out of +life to be so safe.”</p> +<p>“It takes half the worry with it, too,” he +reminded her.</p> +<p>She thought a moment. Then she kissed him.</p> +<p>“Maybe it’s good for people to worry a bit,” +she answered.</p> +<p>“You’ve already done your share,” he returned. +“You’re going to meet me for lunch +at twelve?”</p> +<p>“Yes, Don.”</p> +<p>“Sure?”</p> +<p>“Of course, it’s sure.”</p> +<p>“I wish it were twelve now.”</p> +<p>“You’re not to think of me again until +twelve comes––not once. You’re to tend to +business.”</p> +<p>“I know, but––”</p> +<p>She kissed him again.</p> +<p>“Along with you.”</p> +<p>She took his arm and led him to the door and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_325' name='page_325'></a>325</span> +there––where, for all he cared, the whole street +might have seen him––he turned quickly and +kissed her once more.</p> +<p>Don was decidedly self-conscious when he +stepped briskly into the office of Carter, Rand +& Seagraves, with a brave attempt to give the +impression that nothing whatever out of the +ordinary had happened to him during his brief +vacation. But Blake, as he expressed it to her +later, was there with bells on. He spied him +the moment he came through the door and +greeted him with a whistled bar from the +“Wedding March.” Not content with that, +he tore several sheets of office stationery into +small bits and sprinkled him with it. He +seemed to take it as more or less of a joke.</p> +<p>“You certainly put one over on us,” exclaimed +Blake.</p> +<p>“Well, let it go at that,” Don frowned.</p> +<p>He was willing to take the horse-play, but +there was something in the spirit with which +it was done that he did not like.</p> +<p>“Always heard bridegrooms were a bit +touchy,” returned Blake.</p> +<p>Don stepped nearer.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_326' name='page_326'></a>326</span></div> +<p>“Touchy isn’t the word, Blake,” he said; +“proud comes nearer it. Remember that I’m +proud as the devil of the girl you used to see +here. Just base your future attitude toward +her and me on that.”</p> +<p>A few minutes later Farnsworth restored +his good humor. As he came into the private +office, Farnsworth rose and extended his hand.</p> +<p>“I want to congratulate you, Pendleton,” +he said sincerely.</p> +<p>“Thank you,” answered Don.</p> +<p>“We feel almost as though we had lost a +partner in the firm,” he smiled. “But I’m +mighty glad for both of you. She was fitted +for something a whole lot bigger than Wall +Street.”</p> +<p>“She taught me all I know about the game,” +confessed Don.</p> +<p>“You couldn’t have had a better teacher. +Sit down. I want to talk over a change I have +in mind.”</p> +<p>Don felt his heart leap to his throat.</p> +<p>“I’ve wanted for some time another man +to go out and sell,” said Farnsworth. “Do you +think you can handle it?”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_327' name='page_327'></a>327</span></div> +<p>“You bet,” exclaimed Don.</p> +<p>Farnsworth smiled.</p> +<p>“You see,” ran on Don in explanation, “I’ve +been selling bonds to Sally––er––Mrs. Pendleton, +for a month or more now.”</p> +<p>“Selling her?”</p> +<p>“Imaginary bonds, you know.”</p> +<p>Farnsworth threw back his head and laughed.</p> +<p>“Good! Good! But the true test will come +when you try to sell her a real one. I’ll bet it +will have to be gilt-edged.”</p> +<p>“And cheap,” nodded Don.</p> +<p>“Well,” said Farnsworth, “I want to try +you on the selling staff for a while, anyway. +Now, about salary––”</p> +<p>“Sally told me to forget that,” said Don.</p> +<p>“I guess because she knew me well enough +to know I wouldn’t forget it. My intention +is to pay men in this office what they are worth. +Just what you may be worth in your new position +I don’t know, but I’m going to advance +you five hundred; and if you make good you’ll +be paid in proportion as you make good. That +satisfactory?”</p> +<p>“Absolutely.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_328' name='page_328'></a>328</span></div> +<p>“Then we’re off,” concluded Farnsworth.</p> +<p>Don met Sally at noon at the dairy lunch +where they had gone so often.</p> +<p>“Come on, little woman,” he greeted her. +“This place may be all right for the wife of a +clerk, but now you’re the wife of a bond salesman.”</p> +<p>“Don!”</p> +<p>“On a five-hundred-dollar raise.”</p> +<p>“We’ll stay right here,” she said; “but I’m +going to celebrate by having two chocolate +éclairs.”</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_329' name='page_329'></a>329</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XXXV_HOME_JOHN' id='CHAPTER_XXXV_HOME_JOHN'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XXXV</h2> +<h3>“HOME, JOHN”</h3> +</div> +<p>In December of the following year Frances +came into her mother’s room one afternoon, +drawing on her gloves.</p> +<p>“Your new gown is very pretty,” her mother +said. “Where are you calling?”</p> +<p>“I have bridge at the Warrens’ at four,” she +answered. “But I thought I might have time +before that to drop in at Don’s. He has telephoned +me half a dozen times to call and see +his baby, and I suppose he’ll keep on until I +go.”</p> +<p>“You really ought to go.”</p> +<p>Frances became petulant. “Oh, I know it, +but––after all, a baby <i>isn’t</i> interesting.”</p> +<p>“They say it’s a pretty baby. It’s a boy, +isn’t it?”</p> +<p>“I don’t know. Why don’t you come along +with me?”</p> +<p>“I’m not dressed, dear, but please to extend +my congratulations.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_330' name='page_330'></a>330</span></div> +<p>“Yes, mother.”</p> +<p>As John started to close the door of the limousine, +Frances glanced at her watch.</p> +<p>“I wish to call at Mr. Pendleton’s, but I +must be at the Warrens’ at four promptly. +How much time must I allow?”</p> +<p>“A half hour, Miss.”</p> +<p>“Very well, John.”</p> +<p>Nora took her card, and came back with the +request that she follow upstairs. “The baby’s +just waked up,” Nora said.</p> +<p>Frances was disappointed. If she had to see +a baby, she preferred, on the whole, seeing it +asleep.</p> +<p>Mrs. Pendleton came to the nursery door +with the baby in her arms––or rather a bundle +presumably containing a baby.</p> +<p>“It’s good of you to come,” she smiled. “I +think he must have waked up just to see +you.”</p> +<p>She spoke unaffectedly and with no trace of +embarrassment, although when Nora presented +the card she had for a second become confused. +She had hoped that Don would be at home +when this moment came.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_331' name='page_331'></a>331</span></div> +<p>“You’re sure it’s convenient for me to +stay?” questioned Frances uneasily.</p> +<p>“Quite,” answered Mrs. Pendleton. “I––I +want you to see him when he’s good-natured.”</p> +<p>She crossed the room to the window, and +removed a layer of swaddling clothes very +gently. And there, revealed, lay Don, Jr. His +face was still rather red, and his nose pudgy; +but when he opened his eyes Frances saw Don’s +eyes. It gave her a start.</p> +<p>“He has his father’s eyes,” said the mother.</p> +<p>“There’s no doubt of that,” exclaimed +Frances.</p> +<p>“And his nose––well, he hasn’t much of +any nose yet,” she smiled.</p> +<p>“He seems very small––all over.”</p> +<p>“He weighed ten pounds this morning,” +said the mother.</p> +<p>Don, Jr., was waving his arms about, rather +feebly, but with determination.</p> +<p>“He is very strong,” the mother informed +her. “Don declares that he has all the earmarks +of a football player.”</p> +<p>It seemed odd to hear this other speak so +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_332' name='page_332'></a>332</span> +familiarly of Don. Frances glanced up quickly––and +met Mrs. Pendleton’s eyes. It was as +if the two challenged each other. But Frances +was the first to turn away.</p> +<p>“Would you like to hold him a minute?” +asked Mrs. Pendleton.</p> +<p>Frances felt her breath coming fast.</p> +<p>“I’m afraid I’d be clumsy.”</p> +<p>“Hold out your arms and I’ll put him in +them.”</p> +<p>Frances held out her arms, and Mrs. Pendleton +gently laid the baby across them.</p> +<p>“Now hold him up to you,” she said.</p> +<p>Frances obeyed. The sweet, subtle aroma of +his hair reached her. The subtle warmth of his +body met hers. As the mystic eyes opened +below her eyes, a crooning lullaby hidden +somewhere within her found its way to her +throat and there stuck. She grew dizzy and +her throat ached. Don, Jr., moved uneasily.</p> +<p>“He wants to come back now,” said the +mother as she took him.</p> +<p>“Good-bye,” whispered Frances. “I may +come again?”</p> +<p>“Come often,” smiled Mrs. Pendleton.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_333' name='page_333'></a>333</span></div> +<p>Frances tiptoed from the room, and tiptoed +all the way downstairs and through the hall.</p> +<p>As she stepped into the limousine, she said +to John: “Home, please.”</p> +<p>“But you said you must be at the Warrens’ +at four,” John respectfully reminded her.</p> +<p>She sank back wearily in the seat.</p> +<p>“Home, John, please,” she repeated.</p> +<p style='text-align:center;margin-top:1.5em;margin-bottom:1em'>THE END</p> +<hr class='pb' /> +<div style='margin:10px auto; text-align:center;'> +<img alt='advertisement' src='images/a349.jpg' /> +</div> +<hr class='pb' /> +<div style='margin:10px auto; text-align:center;'> +<img alt='advertisement' src='images/a350.jpg' /> +</div> +<hr class='pb' /> +<div style='margin:10px auto; text-align:center;'> +<img alt='advertisement' src='images/a351.jpg' /> +</div> +<div style='margin:10px auto; text-align:center;'> +<img alt='advertisement' src='images/a356.jpg' /> +</div> +<hr class='pb' /> +<div style='margin:10px auto; text-align:center;'> +<img alt='advertisement' src='images/a353.jpg' /> +</div> +<hr class='pb' /> +<div style='margin:10px auto; text-align:center;'> +<img alt='advertisement' src='images/a354.jpg' /> +</div> +<hr class='pb' /> +<div style='margin:10px auto; text-align:center;'> +<img alt='advertisement' src='images/a355.jpg' /> +</div> +<hr class='pb' /> +<div style='margin:10px auto; text-align:center;'> +<img alt='advertisement' src='images/a356.jpg' /> +</div> + +<!-- generated by ppg.rb version: ppg0809 --> +<!-- timestamp: Sun Aug 09 18:06:12 -0600 2009 --> + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Wall Street Girl, by Frederick Orin Bartlett + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE WALL STREET GIRL *** + +***** This file should be named 29654-h.htm or 29654-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/2/9/6/5/29654/ + +Produced by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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