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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/29654-8.txt b/29654-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..7213002 --- /dev/null +++ b/29654-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,9279 @@ +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 + + + + + + + + + +Transcriber's Note: + +The underscore character "_" is used in this book to indicate italics +markup in the original, as in "Then he _must_ hold on." The only +exception to this is where it is used to indicate a subscript, +specifically in H_20 and CO_2, the common chemical formulas for water +and carbon dioxide referenced in the text. + + + + +[Illustration: "DON DEAR, YOU'RE LIVING TOO MUCH DOWNTOWN"] + + + + +THE WALL STREET GIRL + +BY + +FREDERICK ORIN BARTLETT + +WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY + +GEORGE ELLIS WOLFE + +NEW YORK + +GROSSET & DUNLAP + +PUBLISHERS + + + + +COPYRIGHT, 1915 AND 1916, BY EVERY WEEK CORPORATION + +COPYRIGHT, 1916, BY FREDERICK ORIN BARTLETT + +ALL RIGHTS RESERVED + +Published September 1916 + + + + +TO + +THALIA + + + + +CONTENTS + + I. Don Receives a Jolt 1 + II. It Becomes Necessary to Eat 11 + III. The Queen Was in the Parlor 20 + IV. Concerning Sandwiches 27 + V. Business 43 + VI. Two Girls 64 + VII. Roses 71 + VIII. A Man of Affairs 80 + IX. It Will Never Do 93 + X. Dictation 100 + XI. Steak, With Mushrooms and Advice 111 + XII. A Social Widow 123 + XIII. Dear Sir-- 129 + XIV. In Reply 138 + XV. Cost 144 + XVI. A Memorandum 153 + XVII. On the Way Home 161 + XVIII. A Discourse on Salaries 171 + XIX. A Letter 184 + XX. Stars 185 + XXI. In the Dark 193 + XXII. The Sensible Thing 200 + XXIII. Looking Ahead 207 + XXIV. Vacations 215 + XXV. In the Park 223 + XXVI. One Stuyvesant 238 + XXVII. The Stars Again 247 + XXVIII. Seeing 256 + XXIX. Mostly Sally 264 + XXX. Don Explains 275 + XXXI. Sally Decides 295 + XXXII. Barton Appears 305 + XXXIII. A Bully World 317 + XXXIV. Don Makes Good 321 + XXXV. "Home, John" 330 + + + + +THE WALL STREET GIRL + + + + +CHAPTER I + +DON RECEIVES A JOLT + + +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 large, the nose so sharp, or the +eyes so keen. On the other hand, there was a certain fineness that the +father had lacked. + +In height Don fairly matched his father's six feet, although he still +lacked the Pendleton breadth of shoulder. + +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 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. + +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. + +"Your father's will is dated three years ago last June," began +Barton. + +"At the end of my freshman year," Don observed. + +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: + +"New York City, borough of Manhattan, State of New York. I, Donald +Joshua Pendleton, being of sound mind and--" + +Donald Pendleton, Jr., waved an objection with his cigarette. + +"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." + +"It is customary--" began the attorney. + +"Well, we'll break the custom," Don cut in sharply. + +Barton glanced up. It might have been his late client speaking; it +gave him a start. + +"As you wish," he assented. "Perhaps, however, I may be allowed to +observe that in many ways your father's will is peculiar." + +"It wouldn't be father's will if it wasn't peculiar," declared Don. + +Barton pushed the papers away from him. + +"Briefly, then," he said, "your father leaves his entire estate to +you--in trust." + +Don leaned forward, his stick grasped in his gloved hands. + +"I don't get that last." + +"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." + +"You mean to fix my allowance?" + +"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." + +Don frowned. + +"Paternal domicile--I can translate that all right. I suppose you mean +the house. But what's that line 'without power of conveyance'?" + +"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." + +Don appeared puzzled. + +"That's a bit queer. What do you suppose Dad thought I wanted of a +place that size to live in?" + +"I think your father was a man of considerable sentiment." + +"Eh?" + +"Sentiment," Barton repeated. "It was there you were born, and there +your mother died." + +"Yes, that's all correct; but--well, go on." + +"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." + +"Well, go on." + +"In case of your demise--" + +"You may skip my demise; I'm not especially interested in that." + +"Then I think we have covered all the more important provisions," +Barton concluded. + +"All?" exclaimed Don. "What do you think I'm going to live on?" + +Here was the clash for which Barton had been waiting. His face +hardened, and he shoved back his chair a little. + +"I am not able to find any provision in the will relating to that," he +answered. + +"Eh? But what the deuce--" + +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. + +"You said Dad had considerable sentiment," he observed. "It strikes me +he has shown more humor than sentiment." + +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. + +"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." + +If the boy wished to test the issue, Barton was ready for him. But the +boy's thoughts seemed to be on other things. + +"I suppose," mused Pendleton, Jr., "I suppose it was that freshman +scrape that worried him." + +"I was not informed of that," replied Barton. + +"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." + +"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." + +Don nodded pleasantly. + +"The last. Kind of looks as if he wanted me to remain the last." + +"On the contrary," ventured Barton, "I think he hoped you might marry +and--" + +"Marry?" broke in Don. "Did you say _marry?_" + +"I even understood, from a conversation with your father just before +his death, that you--er--were even then engaged. Am I mistaken?" + +"No; that's true enough. But say--look here." + +The young man reached in his pocket and brought forth a handful of +crumpled bills and loose change. He counted it carefully. + +"Twelve dollars and sixty-three cents," he announced. "What do you +think Frances Stuyvesant will say to that?" + +Barton refrained from advancing an opinion. + +"What do you think Morton H. Stuyvesant will say?" demanded Don. + +No point of law being involved in the query, Jonas Barton still +refrained. + +"What do you think Mrs. Morton H. Stuyvesant will say, and all the +uncles and aunties and nephews and nieces?" + +"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." + +"What?" inquired Don. + +"He would place all the facts in the case before the girl, then +before her father, and learn just what they had to say." + +"Wrong. He wouldn't go beyond the girl," answered Don. + +He replaced the change in his pocket. + +"Ah," he sighed--"them were the happy days." + +"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." + +"Yes, them were the happy days," nodded Don. "But, at that, Dad had +his nerve with him." + +"He did," answered Barton. "He had his nerve with him always." + + + + +CHAPTER II + +IT BECOMES NECESSARY TO EAT + + +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. + +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. + +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 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 _thé dansant_, +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. + +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 him as significant, because, as it +happened, his wants were for the moment fully satisfied. + +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. + +Nora opened the door for him, as she had for twenty years. + +"Are you to be here for dinner, sir?" she inquired. + +"No, Nora," he answered; "I shall dine out to-night." + +Nora appeared uneasy. + +"The cook, sir, has received a letter--a very queer sort of letter, +sir--from a lawyer gentleman." + +"Eh?" + +"He said she was to keep two accounts, sir: one for the servants' +table and one for the house." + +"Oh, that's probably from old Barton." + +"Barton--yes, sir, that was the name. Shall I bring you the letter, +sir?" + +"Don't bother, Nora. It's all right. He's my new bookkeeper." + +"Very well, sir. Then you'll give orders for what you want?" + +"Yes, Nora." + +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. + +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. + +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, +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. + +"Hello, Jimmy," Don greeted him. + +"Hello, Don. You came in the nick of time. Lend me ten, will you?" + +"Sure," answered Don. + +He sought his bill-book. It was empty. For a moment he was confused. + +"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?" + +Harndon hurried off to the telephone. + +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 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. + +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. + +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 +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +"Look here," he began. "It seems to me there must be some misunderstanding +somewhere. Do you realize that I'm stony broke?" + +"Why, no," answered Barton. "I thought you showed me the matter of +thirteen dollars or so." + +"I did; but that's gone, and all I have now is the matter of thirteen +cents or so." + +"I'm sorry," answered Barton. "If a small loan would be of any +temporary advantage--" + +"Hang it!" cut in Don. "You don't think I'm trying to borrow, do +you?" + +"I beg your pardon. Perhaps you will tell me, then, just what you do +wish." + +"I must eat, mustn't I?" + +"I consider that a fair presumption." + +"Then what the deuce!" + +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. + +"I say, what the deuce?" + +"I don't understand." + +"What am I going to do?" + +"Oh, I see. You mean, I take it, what must you do in order to provide +yourself with funds." + +"Exactly," growled Don. + +"Of course, the usual method is to work," suggested Barton. + +"Eh?" + +"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." + +"Think it over!" exclaimed Don. "How long do you think I can think on +thirteen cents?" + +"If you authorize me to act for you, I have no doubt something can be +arranged." + +"You seem to hold all the cards." + +"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?" + +"I'll do anything except sell books," Don answered promptly. + +"Very well," concluded Barton. "I'll advise you by mail as soon as +anything develops." + +"Thanks." + +"In the mean while, if you will accept a loan--" + +"Thanks again," answered Don; "but I'll go hungry first." He hung up +the receiver and went back to the lounge. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +THE QUEEN WAS IN THE PARLOR + + +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. + +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 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. + +"I met Reggie Howland at the tea this afternoon," said Frances. "He +was very nice to me." + +"Why shouldn't he be?" inquired Don. + +"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." + +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. + +"You're right," he nodded; "but I was all tied up with business this +afternoon." + +She raised her dark brows a trifle. + +"Business?" + +"Lots of it," he nodded. "Come over here and sit down; I want to tell +you about it." + +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 +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. + +"It seems," he began--"it seems that Dad would have his little joke +before he died." + +"Yes?" she responded indifferently. She was bored by business of any +sort. + +"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." + +"Yes, Don." + +She did not quite understand why he was going into details. They did +not seem to concern her, even as his fiancée. + +"Of that patrimony I now have thirteen cents left," Don continued. +"See, here it is." + +He removed from his pocket two nickels and three coppers. + +"It doesn't look like much, does it?" + +"Oh, Don," she laughed, "do be serious!" + +"I am serious," he assured her. "I've been serious ever since I went +to Sherry's for lunch, and found I did not have enough for even a +club sandwich." + +"But, Don!" she gasped. + +"It's a fact. I had to leave." + +"Then where _did_ you lunch?" + +"I didn't lunch." + +"You mean you did not have enough change to buy something to eat?" + +"I had thirteen cents. You can't buy anything with that, can you?" + +"I--I don't know." + +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. + +"But, Don--what are you going to do?" + +"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." + +"I don't understand, Don." + +"I mean about our engagement." + +She looked puzzled. + +"I'm afraid I'm very stupid." + +"We can't be married on thirteen cents, can we?" + +"But we needn't be married until you have more, need we?" + +"That's so. And you're willing to wait?" + +"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." + +"We can't be engaged all our lives," he protested. + +"We can be engaged as long as we wish, can't we?" + +"I want to marry you as soon as I can." + +Her eyes brightened and she placed a soft hand upon his arm. + +"That's nice of you, Don," she said. "But you don't know what a +frightfully expensive burden I'll be as a wife." + +"If I earned, to start with, say fifty dollars a week--would you marry +me on that?" + +"If I did, what would we live on?" she inquired. + +"Well, I have the house. That's provided for--all except the table." + +"But if I spent the fifty dollars for a new hat, then what would we +have left for provisions?" + +"You mustn't spend it all on a new hat," he warned. + +"Then, there are gowns and--oh, lots of things you don't know anything +about." + +"Couldn't you get along with a little less?" + +She thought a moment. + +"I don't see how," she decided. "I never get anything I don't want." + +"That's something," he nodded approvingly. "Then you think I must earn +more than fifty a week?" + +"I only know that Dad gives me an allowance of ten thousand a year, +and there's never anything left," she answered. + +"Ten thousand a year!" he exclaimed. + +"Everything is so expensive to-day, Don. All this talk sounds +frightfully vulgar, but--there's no use pretending, is there?" + +"Not a bit," he answered. "If ten thousand a year is what you need, +ten thousand a year is what I must earn." + +"I don't believe it's very hard, because Dad does it so easily," she +declared. + +"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." + +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. + +"I'll get it for you," he said soberly. + +"Oh, Don!" she whispered. "Sometimes nothing seems important but just +you." + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +CONCERNING SANDWICHES + + +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. + +"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?" + +"It is at least twelve hundred more than you have now," suggested +Barton. + +"But how can I live on it?" + +"You must remember you have the house--" + +"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." + +"I have no doubt but that, in time, a man of your ability--" + +"How long a time?" + +"As to that I am not prepared to give an opinion," replied Barton. + +"Because it isn't when I'm eighty that I want it." + +"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--" + +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. + +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. + +"Join me?" he asked, waving a greeting with the morning paper. + +"Thanks," answered Don. "Guess I'll wait a bit." + +Watson went on. + +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 and vice-presidents with unlimited bank +accounts. Considering these facts, Don grew decidedly optimistic. + +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. + +"What's the matter, Don--off your feed?" he inquired casually. + +"Something of the sort," nodded Don. + +"Party last night?" + +"No; guess I haven't been getting exercise enough." + +He rose. Somehow, Watson bored him this morning. + +"I'm going to take a hike down the Avenue. S'long." + +Don secured his hat, gloves, and stick, and started from the club at a +brisk clip. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +At last he reached the address that Barton had given him. "Carter, +Rand & Seagraves, Investment Securities," read the inscription on the +window. He passed through the revolving doors and entered the office. + +A boy in buttons approached and took his card. + +"Mr. Carter, Mr. Rand, or Mr. Seagraves," said Don. + +The boy was soon back. + +"Mr. Farnsworth will see you in a few minutes," he reported. + +"Farnsworth?" inquired Don. + +"He's the gent what sees every one," explained the boy. "Ticker's over +there." + +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_2O and CO_2, and +he amused himself by watching to see if they turned up. + +"Mr. Pendleton?" + +Don turned to find a middle-aged gentleman standing before him with +outstretched hand. + +"Mr. Barton wrote to us about you," Farnsworth continued briskly. "I +believe he said you had no business experience." + +"No," admitted Don. + +"Harvard man?" + +Don named his class. + +"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." + +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. + +"Thanks," he replied. "When shall I begin?" + +"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." + +"All right," assented Don. + +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. + +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 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. + +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. + +Miss Winthrop paused to readjust a pin and the angle of her hat. Then +she took a swift glance about the office. + +"I guess the boys must have gone," she said to Don. "This is the lunch +hour." + +Don rose. + +"Thank you for letting me know," he replied cordially. + +"Most of them get back at one," she informed him. + +"Then you think I may go out until then?" + +"I don't see why not. But I'd be back at one sharp if I were you." + +"Thanks, I will." + +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. + +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 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. + +"I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't know you were here. Honest I didn't." + +"Well, it's a public lunch, isn't it?" she inquired. "I'm almost +through." + +"Then you don't mind if I stay?" + +"It's no business of mine," she said curtly. + +"But I don't want you to think I--I'm intruding." + +She glanced at him again. + +"Let's forget it," she decided. "But you might sit there all day and +you wouldn't get anything to eat." + +He looked around, uncertain as to just what she meant. + +"You go to the counter, pick out what you want, and bring it back +here," she explained. "I'll hold your seat for you." + +Don made his way into the crowd at the rear. 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. + +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. + +"That all you're going to eat?" she demanded. + +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 for much in the middle of the day +seemed scarcely worth while. + +"Yes," he answered. + +"Broke?" she inquired. + +He nodded. + +"Then you ought to have had an egg sandwich instead of one of those +things," she informed him. + +"But the one you had looked so good," he smiled. + +"I had an egg sandwich to start with; this was dessert." + +"I didn't know," he apologized. + +"You ought to get one now. You won't last until night on just that." + +"How much are they?" he inquired. + +"A nickel." + +"Then I guess I won't have one." + +"Haven't you five cents?" she cross-examined. + +"Only three cents," he answered. + +"And you begin work to-day?" + +"Yes." + +"It's only Tuesday, and you won't get paid until Saturday." + +"So?" + +"Do you expect to make that éclair go until then?" + +"I hadn't thought much about it," he answered uneasily. + +"You don't look as if you would," she said. "You are new to this, +aren't you?" + +"Yes." + +He did not resent her questioning; and it did not occur to him to give +her an evasive reply. + +"Just out of college?" + +"Last fall." + +"What you been doing since then?" + +"Why, nothing," he admitted. "You see, my father died only last month, +and--" + +"Oh, I see," she said more gently. "That's hard luck." + +"It makes a good deal of a difference," he said. + +"I know." + +It had made a difference in her life when her father died. + +She turned to her éclair; but, as she was raising the fork to her +lips, she caught his eyes and put it down again. + +"Look here," she said; "you must eat something. You can't get along +without food. I've tried it." + +"You!" he exclaimed. + +"Indeed, yes." + +"Dieting?" + +"Hardly," she replied grimly. + +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. + +"You mean that you've gone broke, too?" + +"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 _you're_ going to do +until Saturday." + +"Oh, I'll worry along," he answered confidently. + +She shook her head. + +"Worry won't carry you along." + +She hesitated a moment, and then said impulsively:-- + +"Now, look here--don't get peeved at what I'm going to say, will +you?" + +"I don't believe it's possible to get peeved with you," he declared. + +She frowned. + +"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--" + +Don caught his breath. "You--" + +She did not give him time to finish. From somewhere she produced a +two-dollar bill and slipped it into his hand. + +"Take this and get an egg sandwich right now." + +"But look here--" + +"Don't talk. Go get a sandwich." + +He seemed to have no alternative; but when he came back with it she +had disappeared. + +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. + + + + +CHAPTER V + +BUSINESS + + +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. + +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. + +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 +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. + +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. + +"Believe me," she said, "they are not going to pay you for sitting +there and watching me." + +Don felt the color spring to his cheeks. + +"I beg your pardon," he apologized. + +"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." + +"But there doesn't seem to be anything around here for me to do." + +"Then make something," she concluded, as she moved away. + +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. + +"How you making it?" he inquired. + +"There doesn't seem to be much for me to do," said Don. "Can you +suggest anything?" + +"Farnsworth will dig up enough for you later on. I wouldn't worry +about that." + +"But I don't know anything about the game." + +"You'll pick it up. Did I understand Farnsworth to say you were +Harvard?" + +"Yes." + +"I'm Princeton. Say, what sort of a football team have you this +year?" + +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 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. + +"I'll bet you didn't get much out of him," observed Miss Winthrop, +without interrupting the click of her machine. + +"He seems rather a decent sort," answered Don. + +"Perhaps he is," she returned. + +"He's a Princeton man," Don informed her. + +"He's Percy A. Blake," she declared--as if that were a fact of +considerably more importance. + +He waited to see if she was ready to volunteer any further information, +but apparently she considered this sufficient. + +At that point Farnsworth came out and took a look about the office. +His eyes fell upon Don, and he crossed the room. + +He handed Don a package. + +"I wish you would deliver these to Mr. Hayden, of Hayden & Wigglesworth," +he requested. + +Farnsworth returned to his office, leaving Don staring helplessly at +the package in his hands. + +"For Heaven's sake, get busy!" exclaimed Miss Winthrop. + +"But where can I find Mr. Hayden?" inquired Don. + +"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." + +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. + +"Take me to the office of Hayden & Wigglesworth and there's a quarter +in it for you," he offered. + +"I'm on," nodded the boy. + +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. + +"Snappy work," Miss Winthrop complimented him. "The closing prices +must be out by now. You'd better look them over." + +"Closing prices of what?" he inquired. + +"The market, of course. Ask Eddie--the boy at the ticker. He'll give +you a sheet." + +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. + +"You may as well go now," Farnsworth said. "You'll be here at nine +to-morrow?" + +"Nine to-morrow," nodded Don. + +He returned to Miss Winthrop's desk. + +"He says I may go now," he reported. + +"Then I'd go," she advised. + +"But I--I want to thank you." + +"For Heaven's sake, don't!" she exploded. "I'm busy." + +"Good-night." + +"Good-night." + +He took the Subway back to the Grand Central, and walked from there to +the club. Here he found a message from Frances:-- + +Dad sent up a box for the theater to-night. Will you come to dinner +and go with us? + +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. + +He was full of this when, a few minutes before dinner, Frances swept +down the stairs. + +"I'm glad you could come, Don," she said. "But where in the world have +you been all day?" + +"Downtown," he answered. "I'm with Carter, Rand & Seagraves now." + +He made the announcement with considerable pride. + +"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." + +For a second he was disappointed--he had expected more enthusiasm from +her. + +"I haven't met the families of the firm yet," he answered. + +"I thought you knew Dolly. I'll ask her up for my next afternoon, to +meet you." + +"But I can't come in the afternoon, Frances." + +"How stupid! You're to be downtown all day?" + +"From nine to three or later." + +"I'm not sure I'm going to like that." + +"Then you'll have to speak to Farnsworth," he laughed. + +"Farnsworth?" + +"He's the manager." + +"I imagine he's very disagreeable. Oh, Don, please hurry and make your +fortune and have it over with!" + +"You ought to give me more than one day, anyhow." + +"I'll give you till June," she smiled. "I really got sort of homesick +for you to-day, Don." + +"Honest?" + +"Honest, Don. I've no business to tell you such a secret, but it's +true." + +"I'm glad you told me," he answered soberly. "What have you been doing +all day?" + +"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." + +"How much?" he inquired. + +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." + +"Tough luck," he sympathized. + +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. + +A singing team made their appearance and 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. + +Frances turned, suppressing a yawn. + +"I suppose one of them will hang by his teeth in a minute," she +observed. "I wish he wouldn't. It makes me ache." + +"It is always possible to leave," he suggested. + +"But Mother so enjoys the pictures." + +"Then, by all means, let's stay." + +"They always put them at the end. Oh, dear me, I don't think I shall +ever come again." + +"I enjoyed the singing," he confessed. + +"Oh, Don, it was horrible!" + +"Still, that song about the restaurant in the alley--" + +"The _what?_" she exclaimed. + +"Wasn't it that or was it apple blossoms? Anyhow, it was good." + +"Of course there's no great difference between restaurants in alleys +and apple blossoms in Normandy!" she commented. + +"Not so much as you'd think," he smiled. + +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. + +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 were warning him not to +be late. He jumped from bed. + +But, even at that, it was a quarter-past eight before he came +downstairs. Nora was anxiously waiting for him. + +"You did not order breakfast, sir," she reminded him. + +"Why, that's so," he admitted. + +"Shall I prepare it for you now?" + +"Never mind. I haven't time to wait, anyway. You see, I must be +downtown at nine. I'm in business, Nora." + +"Yes, sir; but you should eat your breakfast, sir." + +He shook his head. "I think I'll try going without breakfast this +week. Besides, I didn't send up any provisions." + +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. + +"An egg and a bit of toast, sir? I'm sure the cook could spare that." + +"Out of her own breakfast?" + +"I--I beg your pardon, sir," stammered Nora; "but it's all part of the +house, isn't it?" + +"No," he answered firmly. "We must play the game fair, Nora." + +"And dinner, sir?" + +"Dinner? Let's not worry about that as early in the morning as this." + +He started to leave, but at the door turned again. + +"If you should want me during the day, you'll find me at my office +with Carter, Rand & Seagraves. Better write that down." + +"I will, sir." + +"Good-day, Nora." + +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. + +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. Miss +Winthrop, who was hard at work when he entered, paused a second to +glance at the watch pinned to her dress. + +"I'm only twenty minutes late," he apologized to her. + +"A good many things can happen around Wall Street in twenty minutes," +she answered. + +"I guess I'll have to leave the house a little earlier." + +"I'd do something to get here on time," she advised. "Out late last +night?" + +"Not very. I was in bed a little after one." + +"I thought so." + +"Why?" + +"You look it." + +She brought the conversation to an abrupt end by resuming her work. + +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. + +She, on the other hand, appeared fresher than she had yesterday at +noon. Her eyes were 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. + +"Mr. Pendleton." It was Eddie. "Mr. Farnsworth wants to see you in his +office." + +Farnsworth handed Don a collection of circulars describing some of the +securities the firm was offering. + +"Better familiarize yourself with these," he said briefly. "If there +is anything in them you don't understand, ask one of the other men." + +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 insignificance. On the whole, it was decidedly depressing +reading--the more so because he did not understand it. + +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. + +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. + +"Will you hold this for me?" he asked. + +"Better drop your hat in it," she suggested rather coldly. + +He obeyed the suggestion, and a minute later returned with a cup of +coffee and an egg sandwich. She was gazing indifferently across the +room as he sat down, but he called her attention to his lunch. + +"You see, I got one of these things to-day." + +"So?" + +"Do you eat it with a fork or pick it up in your fingers?" he asked. + +She turned involuntarily to see if he was serious. She could not tell, +but it was a fact he looked perplexed. + +"Oh, pick it up in your fingers," she exclaimed. "But look here; are +you coming here every day?" + +"Sure," he nodded. "Why not?" + +"Because, if you are, I'm going to find another place." + +"You--what?" he gasped. + +"I'm going to find another place." + +The sandwich was halfway to his lips. He put it down again. + +"What have I done?" he demanded. + +She was avoiding his eyes. + +"Oh, it isn't you," she answered. "But if the office ever found +out--" + +"Well," he insisted. + +"It would make a lot of talk, that's all," she concluded quickly. "I +can't afford it." + +"Whom would they talk about?" + +"Oh, they wouldn't talk about you--that's sure." + +"They would talk about you?" + +"They certainly would." + +"What would they say?" + +"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." + +"I don't see what that has to do with where you eat or where I eat." + +"It hasn't, as long as we don't eat at the same place. Can't you see +that?" + +She raised her eyes and met his. + +"I see now," he answered soberly. "They'll think I'm getting fresh +with you?" + +"They'll think I'm letting you get fresh," she answered, lowering her +eyes. + +"But you don't think that yourself?" + +"I don't know," she answered slowly. "I used to think I could tell; +but now--oh, I don't know!" + +"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--" + +"Those things aren't fit to eat when they're cold," she warned him. + +He shoved his plate aside and leaned toward her. "Do you think--" + +"No, no, no!" she exclaimed. "Only, it isn't what _I_ think that +matters." + +"That's the only thing in this case that does matter," he returned. + +"You wait until you know Blake," she answered. + +"Of course, if any one is to quit here, it is I," he said. + +"You'd better stay where you are," she answered. "I know a lot of +other places just like this." + +"Well, I can find them, can't I?" + +She laughed--a contagious little laugh. + +"I'm not so sure," she replied. + +"You don't think much of my ability, do you?" he returned, somewhat +nettled. + +She lifted her eyes at that. + +"If you want to know the truth," she said, "I do. And I've seen a lot +of 'em come and go." + +He reacted curiously to this unexpected praise. His color heightened +and unconsciously he squared his shoulders. + +"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?" + +She nodded and started to rise. + +"Sit still; I'll get it for you." + +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. + +When he came back she slipped a nickel upon the arm of his chair. + +"What's this for?" he demanded. + +"For the éclair, of course." + +"You--you needn't have done that." + +"I'll pay my own way, thank you," she answered, her face hardening a +little. + +"Now you're offended again?" + +"No; only--oh, can't you see we--I must find another place?" + +"No, I don't," he answered. + +"Then that proves it," she replied. "And now I'm going back to the +office." + +He rose at once to go with her. + +"Please to sit right where you are for five minutes," she begged. + +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. + +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. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +TWO GIRLS + + +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 the very things in a man +she had learned to question. + +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. + +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 her hat +and coat and sat by the radiator to warm her hands. + +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. + +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. + +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 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. + +But, oddly enough, although there was no place for him, another seemed +to be with her in the room. + + * * * * * + +"Let me have your engagement-book a moment," Frances requested. + +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. + +Frances puckered her brows. + +"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." + +She wrote it in his book. + +"On Saturday we go to the opera. The Warringtons have asked us to a +box party." + +She wrote that. + +"Next Wednesday comes the Stanley cotillion. Have you received your +invitation?" + +"Haven't seen it," he answered. + +"The Stanleys are always unpardonably late, but I helped Elise make +out her list. On the following Friday we dine at the Westons'." + +She wrote that. + +"On the following Saturday I'm to give a box party at the opera--the +Moores and Warringtons." + +She added that, and looked over the list. + +"And I suppose, after going to this trouble, I'll have to remind you +all over again on the day of each event." + +"Oh, I don't know; but--" He hesitated. + +"Well?" she demanded. + +"Seems to me we are getting pretty gay, aren't we?" + +"Don't talk like an old man!" she scolded. "So far, this has been a +very stupid season." + +"But--" + +"Well?" + +"You know, now I'm in business--" + +"Please don't remind me of that any more than is necessary," she +interrupted. + +"Oh, all right; only, I do have to get up in the morning." + +"Why remind me of that? It's disagreeable enough having to think of it +even occasionally." + +"But I do, you know." + +"I know it, Don. Honestly I do." + +She seated herself on the arm of his chair, with an arm about his neck +and her cheek against his hair. + +"And I think it quite too bad," she assured him--"which is why I don't +like to talk about it." + +She sprang to her feet again. + +"Now, Don, you must practice with me some of the new steps. You'll get +very rusty if you don't." + +"I'd rather hear you sing," he ventured. + +"This is much more important," she replied. + +She placed a Maxixe record on the Victrola that stood by the piano; +then she held out her arms to him. + +"Poor old hard-working Don!" she laughed as he rose. + +It was true that it was as poor old hard-working 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. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +ROSES + + +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. + +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. + +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 Powers's desk and watch her at work. When he had +challenged her for a reason, she had blushed; then she had replied +simply:-- + +"It isn't business." + +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. + +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. + +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 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:-- + +"Out late again last night?" + +"Went to a dance," he nodded. + +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. + +"You didn't get enough sleep, then." + +"I should say not," Don admitted cheerfully. "In bed at four and up at +seven." + +"You look it." + +"And I feel it." + +"You can't keep that up long." + +"Sunday's coming, and I'm going to sleep all day," he declared. + +"But what's the use of getting into that condition?" she inquired. + +He thought a moment. + +"Well, I don't suppose a man can cut off everything just because he's +in business." + +"That's part of the business--at the beginning," she returned. + +"To work all the time?" + +"To work all the time," she nodded. "I wish I had your chance." + +"My chance to work?" he laughed. + +"Your chance to get ahead," she answered. "It's all so easy--for a +man!" + +"Easy?" + +"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." + +"I've read 'em. But, hang it all, they don't mean anything." + +"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 _don't_ know." + +"But last night--well, a man has to get around a little bit." + +"Around where?" she questioned him. + +"Among his friends. Doesn't he?" + +She hesitated. + +"It seems to me you'll have to choose between dances and business." + +"Eh?" + +She nodded. + +"Between dances and business. I tell you, this next six months is +going to count a lot on how you make good with Farnsworth." + +"Well, he isn't the only one," he said. + +"He's the only one in this office--I know what I'm talking about." + +"But outside the office--" + +She put down her fork. + +"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." + +She raised her own eyes and looked swiftly about the room as if she +half-expected to discover him here. + +"What's the matter?" he inquired. + +She did not answer his question, but as she ran on again she lowered +her voice:-- + +"You've been in his office to-day?" + +"He gave me some more circulars," Don admitted. + +"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." + +Don appeared worried. + +"He didn't say anything." + +"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." + +"You don't think he's getting ready to fire me?" he asked anxiously. + +"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--" + +She raised her eyes to his. She saw that Don's had grown less dull, +and her own warmed with this initial success. + +"You used to play football, didn't you?" she asked. + +"A little." + +"Then you ought to know something about doing things hard; and you +ought to know something about keeping in training." + +"But look here, it seems to me you take this mighty seriously." + +"Farnsworth does," she corrected. "That's why he's getting ten +thousand a year." + +The figures recalled a vivid episode. + +"Ten thousand a year," he repeated after her. "Is that what he +draws?" + +"That's what they say. Anyway, he's worth it." + +"And you think I--I might make a job like that?" + +"I'll bet I'd try for it if I were in your boots," she answered +earnestly. + +"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. + +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. + +"Your two dollars is in there," he explained. + +She looked perplexed. + +"Shall I wait five minutes?" + +"Yes," she answered, as he thrust the box into her hands. + +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. + +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. + +It was about as foolish a thing as she had ever known a man to do. + +She placed the flowers on the table when she had her supper. All night +long they filled the room with their fragrance. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +A MAN OF AFFAIRS + + +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. + +"Pick out what you need," he ordered, as he held the money toward +her. + +"I don't know how much it will be, sir. I'll ask the cook, sir." + +"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." + +Don ate his breakfast in the dining-room before the open fire, as his +father used to do. 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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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 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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +"Who is it, Nora?" + +"Miss Stuyvesant, sir." + +"Oh, yes." + +He hurried to the telephone. + +"Good-morning, Frances." + +"Dad and Mother have gone to church and it's very stupid here," she +complained. "Can't you come over?" + +He hesitated the fraction of a second. + +"Oh, of course,--if you don't want to,--" she began quickly. + +"It isn't that, Frances. Of course I want to come; only, there were +some papers I brought home from the office--" + +"Well?" + +"I can go over them some other time. I'll be right up." + + * * * * * + +A discovery that encouraged Don the following 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. + +"I know these sound like fool questions," Don apologized, "but I've +never been down in this end of the town much." + +"That's all right," replied Powers. "Come to me any time you're +stuck." + +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. + +_Mr. Pendleton:_ Say, old man, what is a gold bond, anyway? + +_Mr. Powers:_ I beg your pardon? + +And so on down to Don's final apology. + +_Mr. Pendleton:_ I know these sound like fool questions-- + +_Mr. Powers:_ That's all right-- + +"Read it over in your spare time," advised Miss Winthrop; "then you +won't ask him the same questions twice." + +"But how in thunder did you get this?" he inquired. + +"I wasn't busy just then, and took it down. I knew you'd forget half +he told you." + +"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." + +"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." + +"What sort of a salary does _he_ draw?" + +"I don't know," she answered. "And if I were you I'd forget the salary +end of my job for a while." + +"It's a mighty important end," he declared. + +"I don't see it," she returned frankly. "I suppose you're starting on +twenty-five?" + +"That's all," he admitted. + +"It's all you're worth. Any one to support besides yourself?" + +"No." + +"Then what you worrying about?" + +"But, good Heavens, a man can't live on that--any length of time." + +"Can't? I know men who support a wife and children on less." + +"Eh?" + +"And do it decently," she nodded. "I live on half of that myself." + +"You?" + +"Of course. Did you think I drew a salary like Farnsworth?" + +She laughed at his open astonishment. It appeared genuine. + +"You live on half of twenty-five dollars a week?" he repeated. + +She did not care to pursue the subject. It was a bit too personal. + +"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?" + +He took out his engagement-book on the spot and made an entry. + +"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. + +"Don't be silly," she warned. "You'd better write down something about +not worrying about your salary at all." + +"I'll do that," he returned. + +He took out his engagement-book again and scribbled a line. + +"Miss Winthrop says not to worry about my salary." + +[Illustration: "CAN'T? I KNOW MEN WHO SUPPORT A WIFE AND CHILDREN ON +LESS"] + +"I didn't say it," she protested. + +"Them's your very words." + +"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." + +He shook his head. "That's too deep for me." + +"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." + +"No need of getting peeved about it," he suggested. + +"Not in the slightest," she agreed. + +But she did not wait for her éclair, and went back to the office in +anything but a good humor. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +At a few minutes before five, just as Miss 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. + +"Sign here," the boy ordered. + +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. + +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. + +"From a devoted admirer?" inquired Blake, as she passed him. + +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 have struck the man with the greatest +satisfaction. It seemed the only adequate way of expressing himself. +Blake was still smiling. + +"Sort of caught her with the goods that time, eh?" observed Blake. + +"I don't get you," answered Don. + +"Candy by messenger? Well, I've been looking for it. And when those +haughty ones do fall, believe me, they fall hard." + +"Maybe," answered Don. "But I'll bet you five dollars to a quarter +you're wrong about her." + +Blake's eyes narrowed a trifle. + +"I'll take you," he answered. "What's your proof?" + +"I sent her that stuff myself." + +"You? Holy smoke, that's going some!" + +"I sent her that to pay for some typewriting she did for me and +because I knew she wouldn't take any money." + +"I lose. Come out and have a drink?" + +"Thanks," answered Don. "I'm on my way uptown. Give that quarter to +Eddie." + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +IT WILL NEVER DO + + +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. + +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. + +"What did you run away for?" he demanded. + +"What did you hunt me up for?" she replied. + +"Because I wanted to see you." + +"And I came here because I did _not_ want to see you." + +"Now, look here--" he began. + +"So I should think you'd go along and leave me alone," she interrupted. + +"If I did that, then I'd never know what the trouble is all about," he +explained. + +"Well, what of it?" + +"May I sit down?" + +There was an empty chair next to her. + +"I can't prevent you, but I've told you I want to be alone." + +"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." + +She gave a swift glance about the room, as if expecting to find half +the crowd looking at her. + +"Maybe they are too polite to let on," he continued; "but I know just +what they are 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.'" + +"You don't seem to care much, then, about what they say." + +"I don't care a hang," he admitted. + +She pushed her plate away as if ready to go. + +"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?" + +"I don't believe you'd know if I did tell you," she answered more +gently. + +"The least you can do is to try." + +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. + +"The least you can do is to give me a chance," he persisted. + +"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 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." + +"That was mighty white of you," he nodded. + +The color flashed into her cheeks. + +"I thought I could do that much without interfering in any other way +with either of our lives." + +"Well?" + +"There were two or three things I didn't reckon with," she answered. + +"What were they?" he demanded. + +"Blake is one of them." + +"Blake?" His face brightened with sudden understanding. "Then the +trouble is all about that box of candy?" + +"You shouldn't have sent it. You should have known better than to send +it. You--had no right." + +"But that was nothing. You were so darned good to me about the +typewriting and it was all I could think of." + +"So, you see," she concluded, "it won't do. It won't do at all." + +"I don't see," he returned. + +"Then it's because you didn't see the way Blake looked at me," she +said. + +"Yes, I saw," he answered. "I could have hit him for it. But I fixed +that." + +"You--fixed that?" she gasped. + +"I certainly did. I told him I sent the box, and told him why." + +"Oh!" she exclaimed. "Then they'll all know, and--what am I going to +do? Oh, what am I going to do?" + +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. + +"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--" + +She raised her head. + +"If he does, there isn't anything you can do about it." + +"I'll bet there is." + +"No--no--_no_. 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." + +He grew serious. + +"It seems too bad if it's got to be that way," he answered. + +"I ought to have known," she said. + +"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." + +She raised her eyes to his a moment. Then a queer, tender expression +softened her mouth. + +"This is the end of it," she answered. "And now I'm glad you did not +know any better." + +She rose to go, and then she noticed that he had not lunched. + +"I'll wait here until you come back with your sandwich," she said. + +"I don't want a sandwich," he protested. + +"Please hurry." + +So she waited there until he came back with his lunch, and then she +held out her hand to him. + +"To-morrow you go to the old place," she said, "and I'll come here." + + + + +CHAPTER X + +DICTATION + + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +Somehow, he did not feel that he really 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. + +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 _not_ +alone concerned. That was the whole trouble. If Blake talked only +about him, and let it go at that, no harm would be done. + +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. + +Don had an inspiration. He caught Powers just as he was about to +leave. + +"Look here, old man," he said in an undertone. "Is there any objection +to my dictating a letter to Miss Winthrop?" + +"Why, no," answered Powers. "She's there for the use of the staff." + +"Thought I'd like to have her take down some of the things we've been +talking about," he explained. + +"Good idea," nodded Powers. + +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:-- + +"Can you take a letter for me, Miss Winthrop?" + +Almost as automatically as she answered Blake, she replied:-- + +"Certainly." + +She reached for her notebook and pencil. + +"_My dear Madame_," he began. + +"Any address, Mr. Pendleton?" + +"I don't know the exact address," he answered. "Just address it to the +little restaurant in the alley." + +She looked up. + +"Mr. Pendleton!" + +"To the little restaurant in the alley," he continued calmly. "Do you +use Madame or Mademoiselle to an unmarried lady?" he inquired. + +"I suppose this is a strictly business letter, or you would not be +dictating it in office hours," she returned. + +"I'll make it partly business," he nodded. "Ready?" + +"Yes, Mr. Pendleton; but I don't think--" + +"Who is introducing the personal element now?" he demanded. + +"Ready, Mr. Pendleton." + + _My dear Madame_:-- + + 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. + +"Try me on one of them?" he suggested, interrupting himself. + +She raised her eyes and glanced anxiously around the office. Then she +replied, as if reading from her notebook:-- + +"You forget, Mr. Pendleton, that I am taking a letter from you." + +"Try me on one of the bonds," he insisted. + +"You mustn't act like this. Really, you mustn't." + +"Then I'll dictate some more. Ready?" + +"Yes, Mr. Pendleton." + +Our Miss Winthrop has just informed me that you have lost your +interest in the whole matter. + +"I didn't say that, Mr. Pendleton," she interrupted. + +"What did you say, then?" + +"I said that here in the office--" + +"Oh, I see. Then scratch that sentence out." + +She scratched it out. + +"Have it read this way":-- + +Our Miss Winthrop informs me-- + +"Why need you bring me in at all?" she asked. + +"Please don't interrupt." + +--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. + +Miss Winthrop's brows came together. + +"That is absolutely impossible!" she exclaimed. + +If the idea does not appeal to you as a pleasure,-- + +he went on in the most impersonal of tones,-- + +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-- + +"You'd better save them," she interrupted. + +--to insure a proper settlement with the waiter,-- + +he concluded his sentence. + +Please let me know, then, where I may meet you on Saturday evening +next. + +"I told you that was quite impossible, Mr. Pendleton," she reminded +him. + +"You haven't told me why." + +"There are a hundred reasons, and they can't be discussed here." + +"That's it," he exclaimed triumphantly. "That's the whole trouble! We +can't discuss 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." + +"You're absurd," she declared, with an involuntary smile. + +Hoping for the favor of an early reply,-- + +he concluded,-- + +I beg to remain, Madame, most sincerely yours. + +"Is that all?" + +"You might add this postscript":-- + +I shall be at the Harvard Club at seven to-night, and a 'phone message +there might be the most convenient way of replying. + +"You don't really wish this typed, Mr. Pendleton?" + +"I think it best," he replied as he rose, "unless you're too tired?" + +"I'm never tired in business hours." + +He returned to his desk; in a few seconds he heard the click of her +machine. + +Miss Winthrop did not stop at the delicatessen store that night, but +went direct to her room. She removed her hat and coat, and then sat +down, chin in hands, to think this problem out. + +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. + +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 be disappointed, and, being disappointed, Heaven only +knew what he would do. + +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. + +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. + +"If you insist I'll come to-morrow night," she informed him. "But--" + +"Say, that's fine!" he interrupted. + +"But I want you to understand that I don't approve of it." + +"Oh, that's all right," he assured her. "Where may I call for you?" + +"I--I don't know." + +"Where do you live?" + +She gave her address. + +"Then I'll call there." + +"Very well," she answered. + +"Now, I call that mighty good of you," he ran on. "And--" + +"Good-night," she concluded sharply. + +She hung up the receiver and went back to her room in anything but a +comfortable frame of mind. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +STEAK, WITH MUSHROOMS AND ADVICE + + +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 Mr. Pendleton--which filled him with considerable pride. + +Don went direct to his house from the office, dressed, and went to the +club. + +"If any one rings me up, get the name," he ordered the doorman. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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 +than an acquaintance of his, but now he saw in him a prospective +customer. + +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. + +"Am I late?" he inquired anxiously. + +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. + +"No," she answered. "Did you come in that?" + +She was looking at the taxi. + +He nodded, and stood at the door, ready to assist her in. + +"Well, you may send it away now," she informed him. + +"But--" + +"I won't go in it," she insisted firmly. + +"Afraid it will break down?" + +"Are you going to send it away?" + +Without further argument he paid the driver and sent him off. + +"It isn't right to waste money like that," she told him. + +"Oh, that was the trouble? But it wouldn't have cost more than a +couple of dollars to have gone back with him." + +"Two dollars! That's carfare for three weeks." + +"Of course, if you look at it that way. But here we are away uptown, +and--hanged if I know how to get out." + +He looked around, as bewildered as a lost child. She could not help +laughing. + +"If you're as helpless as that I don't see how you ever get home at +night," she said. + +He looked in every direction, but he did not see a car line. He turned +to her. + +"I won't help you," she said, shaking her head. + +"Then we'll have to walk until we come to the Elevated," he +determined. + +"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." + +"I can ask some one, can't I?" + +"I certainly would before I walked very far." + +"Then I'm going to ask you." + +He raised his hat. + +"I beg pardon, madame, but would you be so good--" + +"Oh, turn to the right," she laughed. "And do put on your hat." + +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. + +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 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. + +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. + +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. + +Then, during the long wait for the steak and mushrooms, his face +became serious, and he leaned across the table. + +"By the way," he began, "the house has received a new allotment of +bonds; I want to tell you about them." + +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. + +It was the mushrooms and steak that interrupted him. Jacques was +trying to draw his attention to the sizzling hot platter which he 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:-- + +"Good." + +Jacques was somewhat disappointed. + +"Madame sees it?" he ventured. + +Madame, who was sitting with her chin in her hands, staring across the +table at Monsieur, started. + +"Yes," she smiled. "It is beautiful." + +But, when Jacques turned away to carve, she continued to stare again +at Mr. Pendleton. + +"It's in you," she exclaimed. "Oh, what a chance you have!" + +"You think I'll do?" + +"I think that in two years you'll be outselling any one in the +office," she answered. + +His face flushed at the praise. + +"That's straight?" + +"That's straight," she nodded. "And within another year Farnsworth +will pay you anything you demand." + +"Ten thousand?" + +"A gift like yours is worth that to the house--if you don't spoil +it." + +"What do you mean by that?" + +"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." + +It was her apparent sure knowledge of these things that constantly +surprised him. + +"How do you know?" he demanded. + +"Because I've seen and heard. All I can do is to stop, look, and +listen, isn't it?" + +"And warn the speeders?" he laughed. + +"If I could do that much it would be something," she answered +wistfully. + +"Will you warn me?" + +"I'm warning you now." + +She met his eyes with a puzzled frown. + +"I've seen a lot of men start right, but they don't stay right. Why +don't they?" + +"But a lot of them do," he answered. + +"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." + +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. + +"What's that you said?" he demanded. + +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. + +"It isn't worth repeating," she answered uneasily. + +"You said you hated yourself sometimes." + +"The steak is very, very good," she answered, smiling. + +"Then you aren't hating yourself now?" + +"No, no," she replied quickly. "It's only when I get serious +and--please don't let's be serious." + +The rest of the dinner was very satisfactory, 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. + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +A SOCIAL WIDOW + + +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. + +"Poor Don is in business now," was her stock explanation. + +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 +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? + +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. + +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. + +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. + +The climax came when he asked to be excused from the Moore cotillion +because he had three other dances for that week. + +"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." + +"Who is Farnsworth?" she inquired. + +"Why, he's the general manager. I've told you about him." + +"I remember now. But, Don dear, you aren't going to _sell_ things?" + +"You bet I am," he answered enthusiastically. "All I'm waiting for is +a chance." + +"But what do you sell?" she inquired. + +"Investment securities." + +He seemed rather pleased that she was showing so much interest. + +"You see, the house buys a batch of securities wholesale and then +sells them at retail--just as a grocer does." + +"Don!" + +"It's the same thing," he nodded. + +"Then I should call it anything but an attractive occupation." + +"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--" + +"Please don't go into details, Don," she interrupted. "You know I +wouldn't understand." + +"If you'd just let me explain once," he urged. + +"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." + +"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--" + +"Years?" she gasped. + +"Well, until I get my ten thousand." + +"But I thought you were planning to have that by next fall at the +latest." + +"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." + +"I'm sure I don't find ten thousand to be very much," she observed. + +"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." + +"Then they must be very stupid." + +"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." + +"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." + +She fell back upon a straight appeal--an appeal of eyes and arms and +lips. + +"I miss you awfully in the afternoons," she 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." + +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. + +For a moment she allowed it, and then with an excited laugh freed +herself. + +"Please to give me one of your cards, Don," she said. + +He handed her a card, and she wrote upon it this:-- + +"_December sixteenth, Moore cotillion_." + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +DEAR SIR-- + + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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 a fact had to be +accepted. As a man he was entitled to an off day or two--possibly to +an off week. + +But when the second and third and fourth week passed without any +notable improvement in him, Miss Winthrop became worried. + +"You ought to put him wise," she ventured to suggest to Powers. + +"I?" Powers had inquired. + +"Well, he seems like a pretty decent sort," she answered indifferently. + +"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. + +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 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. + +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. + +"How is Pendleton getting along?" he inquired. + +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. + +"I think he has ability," Farnsworth answered slowly. "He began well, +but he has let down a little lately." + +"That's too bad," answered Mr. Seagraves. "I thought he would make a +good man for us." + +"I can tell better in another month," Mr. Farnsworth answered. + +"We need another selling man," declared Mr. Seagraves. + +"We do," nodded Farnsworth. "I have my eye on several we can get if +Pendleton doesn't develop." + +"That's good. Ready, Miss Winthrop." + +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. + +She had already done what she could for him, and it had not amounted +to a row of pins. She 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. + +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. + +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 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. + +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 _must_ 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? + +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 office +paper, rolled it into the machine, snapped the carriage into position, +and began. + + MR. DONALD PENDLETON, + Care Carter, Rand & Seagraves, + New York, N.Y. + + _Dear Sir_:-- + + 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. + + 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. + + 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 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. + + 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, + + Respectfully yours, + SARAH K. WINTHROP. + +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. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +IN REPLY + + +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. + +"If you're trying to learn that by heart--" he began. + +Don thrust the letter into his pocket. + +"I beg your pardon," he apologized. "It--it was rather important." + +They sat down in the lounge. + +"What's yours?" inquired Wadsworth, as in response to a bell a page +came up. + +"A little French vichy," answered Don. + +"Oh, have a real drink," Wadsworth urged. + +"I think I'd better not to-night," answered Don. + +Wadsworth ordered a cock-tail for himself. + +"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. + +"I don't know," answered Don. + +"You don't mean to say you've cut out business?" exclaimed Wadsworth. + +"I guess I have," Don answered vaguely. + +"Think of retiring?" + +"To tell the truth, I hadn't thought of it until very lately; but +now--" + +Don restrained a desire to read his letter through once more. + +"Take my advice and do it," nodded Wadsworth. "Nothing in it but a +beastly grind. It's pulling on you." + +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. + +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 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! + +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. + +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 he realized that resigning was out +of the question. He really had no alternative but to make good; so he +_would_ make good. + +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. + + MY DEAR SARAH K. WINTHROP [he began]:-- + + 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. + + 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. + + If that had happened I think my father would 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. + + 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. + + 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. + + You're dead right in all you said, and if I can't 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 + + Yours truly, + DONALD PENDLETON, JR. + +Don addressed the letter to the office, mailed it, and went home to +dress. But before going upstairs he called to Nora. + +"Nora," he said, "you know that I'm in business now?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"And you wouldn't like to see me fired, would you?" + +"Oh, Lord, sir!" gasped Nora. + +"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." + +The next morning Don stepped briskly into the office five minutes +ahead of Miss Winthrop. + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +COST + + +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. + +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 length. She herself was +very busy. Mr. Seagraves, having accidentally discovered her ability, +was now employing her more and more in his private office. + +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. + +But when Graustein & Company announced to him their new spring +importations, and he 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:-- + +"What will you charge for making up this?" + +"But you have long had an account with us!" he exclaimed. "Here is +something here, Mr. Pendleton,--an exclusive weave." + +"No," answered Don firmly; "I don't want that. But this other--you +said you'd make that for how much?" + +Graustein appeared injured. He waved his hand carelessly. + +"Eighty dollars," he replied. "You really need two more, and I'll make +the three for two hundred." + +"Thanks. I will tell you when to go ahead." + +"We like to have plenty of time on your work, Mr. Pendleton," said +Graustein. + +Two hundred dollars! Once upon the street again, Don caught his +breath. His bill at Graustein's had often amounted to three times +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. + +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. + +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. When they were not, he entered and asked the prices. It +became a passion with him to learn the cost of things. + +It was toward the middle of May that Frances first mentioned a +possible trip abroad that summer. + +"Dolly Seagraves is going, and wishes me to go with her," she +announced. + +"It will take a lot of money," he said. + +"What do you mean, Don?" + +One idle evening he had figured the cost of the wedding trip they had +proposed. He estimated it at three years' salary. + +"Well, the tickets and hotel bills--" he began. + +"But, Don, dear," she protested mildly, "I don't expect you to pay my +expenses." + +"I wish to Heavens I could, and go with you!" + +"We had planned on June, hadn't we?" she smiled. + +"On June," he nodded. + +She patted his arm. + +"Dear old Don! Well, I think a fall wedding would be nicer, anyway. +And Dolly has an English cousin or something who may have us +introduced at court. What do you think of that?" + +"I'd rather have you right here. I thought after the season here I +might be able to see more of you." + +"Nonsense! You don't think we'd stay in town all summer? Don, dear, I +think you're getting a little selfish." + +"Well, you'd be in town part of the summer." + +She shook her head. + +"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?" + +"Two weeks, I think." + +"Oh, dear, then you can't." + +"Holy smoke, do you know what a first-class passage costs?" + +"I don't want to know. Then you couldn't go, anyway, could you?" + +"Hardly." + +"Shall you miss me?" + +"Yes." + +"That will be nice, and I shall send you a card every day." + +"Good Heavens!" he exclaimed. "If your father would only go broke +before then. If only he would!" + +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. + +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 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. + +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. + +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 matter how close an analogy physicians might +draw. + +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. + +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. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +A MEMORANDUM + + +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. + +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 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. + +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:-- + + MR. DONALD PENDLETON. + + DEAR SIR:-- + + You're making good, and Farnsworth knows it. + + Sincerely yours, + SARAH KENDALL WINTHROP. + +To hear from her like this was like meeting an old friend upon the +street. It seemed to say 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. + +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. + +"Why, hello," he greeted her. + +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 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. + +"Hello," he repeated. + +"Hello," she answered. + +There was an empty seat next to hers. + +"Will you hold that for me?" he asked. + +"They don't let you reserve seats here," she told him. + +"Then I guess I'd better not take a chance," he said, as he sat down +in it. + +He had not changed any in the last few months. + +"Do you expect me to go and get your lunch for you?" she inquired. + +"No," he assured her. "I don't expect to get any lunch." + +She hesitated. + +"I was mighty glad to get your note," he went on. "I was beginning to +think I'd got lost in the shuffle." + +"You thought Mr. Farnsworth had forgotten you?" + +"I sure did. I hadn't laid eyes on him for a week." + +"Mr. Farnsworth never forgets," she answered. + +"How about the others?" + +"There isn't any one else worth speaking of in that office." + +"How about you?" + +"I'm one of those not worth speaking of," she replied. + +She met his eyes steadily. + +"Seagraves doesn't seem to feel that way. He keeps you in there all +the time now." + +"The way he does his office desk," she nodded. "You'd better get your +lunch." + +"I'll lose my chair." + +"Oh, get your sandwich; I'll hold the chair for you," she answered +impatiently. + +He rose immediately, and soon came back with his plate and coffee-cup. + +"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?" + +"What _have_ you been eating?" + +"Doughnuts and coffee, mostly." + +"That isn't nearly so good for you," she declared. + +He adjusted himself comfortably. + +"This is like getting back home," he said. + +"Home?" + +She spoke the word with a frightened, cynical laugh. + +"Well, it's more like home than eating alone at the other places," he +said. + +"They are all alike," she returned--"just places in which to eat." + +She said it with some point, but he did not see the point. He took a +bite of his egg sandwich. + +"Honest, this tastes pretty good," he assured her. + +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. + +"How do you like your new work?" she inquired. + +"It's fierce," he answered. "It's mostly arithmetic." + +"It all helps," she said. "All you have to do now is just to keep at +it. Keeping posted on the bonds?" + +"Yes. But as fast as I learn a new one, it's sold." + +"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." + +"You think so?" + +"I know it, if you keep going. But you can't let up--not for one +day." + +"If I can only last through the summer," he reflected aloud. "Have you +ever spent a summer in town?" + +"Where else would I spend a summer?" she inquired. + +"I like the mountains myself. Ever been to Fabyan House?" + +She looked to see if he was joking. He was not. He had spent the last +three summers very pleasantly in the White Mountains. + +"No," she answered. "A ten-cent trolley trip is my limit." + +"Where?" + +"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." + +There was a note in her voice that made him turn his head toward her. +The color sprang to her cheeks. + +"It's time I was getting back," she announced as she rose. "This is +Mr. Seagraves's busy day." + +"But look here; I haven't finished my éclair!" + +"Then you'd better devote the next five minutes to that," she +advised. + +She disappeared through the door, and in another second was blended +with a thousand others. + +Don drew out his memorandum book and made the following entry:-- + +"Visit Central Park some day and watch the kiddies." + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +ON THE WAY HOME + + +Frances wrote him enthusiastically from London. In her big, sprawling +handwriting the letter covered eight pages. Toward the end she +added:-- + +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, + + Your FRANCES. + +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. When Saturday came he was sorry that it was a half-holiday: +he would have liked to work even through Sunday. + +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. + +She glanced about uneasily. + +"Please--we mustn't stand here." + +"Then I'll walk a little way with you." + +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. + +She allowed two trains to pass, and then said:-- + +"I must go home now." + +"It seems to me you are always on the point of going home," he +complained. "What do you do after you get there?" + +"I have a great many things to do," she informed him. + +"You have dinner?" + +"Yes." + +"Sometimes I have dinner too," he nodded. "Then what do you do?" + +"I have a great many things to do," she repeated. + +"I don't have anything to do after dinner," he said. "I just wander +around until it's time to go to bed." + +"That's a waste of time." + +"I know it. It's just killing time until the next day." + +She appeared interested. + +"You have many friends?" + +"They are all in London and Paris," he answered. + +"You have relatives." + +"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." + +"You live in a house all by yourself?" + +He nodded. + +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. + +"I wish you would tell me about your house," she said wistfully. + +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. + +"My, but you're lucky!" she exclaimed. "I should think you'd want to +spend there every minute you could get." + +"Why?" he asked in surprise. + +"Just because it's your house," she answered. "Just because it's all +your own." + +"I don't see it," he answered. + +"And what do _you_ want of ten thousand a year?" she demanded. "You +can live like a king on what you're drawing now." + +"You don't mean that?" he asked. + +"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." + +"On twenty-five dollars a week?" + +"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." + +"Well, I have to eat," he observed. + +"Yes, you have to eat." + +"And wear clothes." + +She was doing that and paying her rent out of fifteen. + +"I don't see what you do with all your money," she answered. + +At this point she stepped out of the train, and he followed her. She +went down the stairs to 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. + +"I'm going in here," she informed him, as if that concluded the +interview. + +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. + +"I'm going to buy my provisions for to-morrow," she further informed +him. + +"I suppose I must get something too," he answered. "Can't I buy it +here?" + +"It's a public place," she admitted. + +"Then come on." + +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 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. + +"Now," he asked, when she had concluded, "what do you think _I'd_ +better order?" + +Her cheeks were flushed, and she knew it. + +"I'm sure I don't know," she answered. + +He saw some eggs. + +"I might as well have a dozen eggs to start with," he began. + +"Is there only yourself?" she inquired. + +"Yes," he answered. + +"Then I should think a half-dozen would do." + +"A half-dozen," he corrected the order. + +Then he thought of chops. + +"A pound or two of chops," he ordered. + +"If you have eggs for breakfast, you will need chops only for dinner. +Two chops will be enough." + +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 insisted that Hans make a second reckoning. The total +was the same. + +"I shall trade with you altogether after this," he informed the +pleased proprietor. + +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. + +"I'm going home now," she announced. + +"There you are again!" he exclaimed. + +"But I must." + +"I suppose you think I ought to go home." + +"Certainly." + +"Look here--doesn't it seem sort of foolish to prepare two lunches in +two different places. Doesn't it seem rather wasteful?" + +Offhand, it did. And yet there was something wrong with that argument +somewhere. + +"It may be wasteful, but it's necessary," she replied. + +"Now, is it?" he asked. "Why can't we go downtown somewhere and lunch +together?" + +"You must go home with your bundles," she said, grasping at the most +obvious fact she could think of at the moment. + +"If that's the only difficulty, I can call a messenger," he replied +instantly. + +"And lose all you've saved by coming 'way up here? I won't listen to +it." + +"Then I'll go home with them and come back." + +"It will be too late for lunch then." + +"I can take a taxi and--" + +"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." + +"I haven't a doubt of it," he answered cheerfully. "On the other hand, +it would get me out of such predicaments as these." + +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. + +"The sensible thing for you to do is to go home and have lunch," she +decided. + +"And then?" + +"Oh, I can't plan your whole day for you. But you ought to get out in +the sunshine." + +"Then I'll meet you in the park at three?" + +"I didn't say that." + +"Will you come?" + +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:-- + +"Yes." + +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. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +A DISCOURSE ON SALARIES + + +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. + +She realized this because when, at five o'clock, 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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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 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. + +"Fine," he nodded. "Next Sunday I'll go with you." + +That afternoon he started making his preparations. + +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. + +"Now," suggested the clerk, "a small chicken roasted and served cold +would be very nice." + +"Right," nodded Don. + +"I could order it for you from here." + +"Right again," agreed Don. + +It was to be sent to the house, so that Nora could have it roasted +that afternoon. + +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. + +When Miss Winthrop came into the station for the nine-thirty, he was +waiting for her with the big wicker basket in his hand. + +They rode to a little village hardly large enough to have a name, and +getting out there took to the open road. + +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. + +The stream that she had discovered only 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. + +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. + +"I should say so," he nodded. + +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. + +"I don't see why you didn't tell me about this place before," he +observed. + +"I wasn't quite sure you'd like it here, for one thing," she +answered. + +"Why not?" + +"It isn't a very gay place, is it?" + +"It's considerably gayer than my house on a Sunday," he answered. + +"It's your own fault you don't enjoy your house more," she declared. + +"How is it?" + +"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." + +"Don't you any longer?" + +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. + +"It's hard to pretend anything except when you're alone," she +answered. + +He sat up. + +"Then you oughtn't to have let me come here with you." + +She smiled. + +"How could I help it? You just came." + +"I know it," he admitted. "I'm always butting in, and you ought to +tell me so every now and then." + +"Would that make any difference?" + +"I don't know as it would," he admitted. "But it might make me +uncomfortable." + +"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." + +"I don't see how you figure that," he answered. + +"Being a man is being able to do about anything you wish." + +"Don't you believe it," he replied. "Having money is the only thing +that makes you able to do what you wish." + +"Oh, dear!" she exclaimed. "Are you going back to that ten thousand a +year?" + +"Pretty soon now it will be September," he reflected irrelevantly. + +"And then?" + +"I had rather hoped to get it by then." + +"Well, you won't, so you'd better forget it. I shouldn't wonder but +what you received a raise to two thousand if Farnsworth gets you out +selling, and that ought to satisfy you." + +Don looked up. Somehow, every time she put it that way it did sound +enough. Beside the brook it sounded like plenty. + +"Look here," he exclaimed. "Would you marry a man who was only drawing +a salary of two thousand?" + +For a moment the question confused her, but only for a moment. + +"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." + +"You mean you think two could live on that?" + +"Of course they could," she answered shortly. + +"And have enough to buy clothes and all those things?" + +"And put money in the bank if they weren't two fools," she replied. + +"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." + +"Yes," she nodded; "I've heard that." + +"Well, don't they?" he persisted. + +"I don't remember ever getting any bill of that size," she answered +with a smile. + +"What do your bills amount to?" he inquired. + +Miss Winthrop hesitated a moment. + +"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." + +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. + +"I'm hungry," she announced. + +"Right," he nodded. "There's my basket over there, and I'll let you +set the table." + +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 she +brought the basket over in front of him and opened it. She gave one +look into it. + +"Did you buy all this?" she demanded. + +"Why, yes," he answered. + +She removed the napkin and saw the cold chicken. + +"Didn't you know any better, or were you just trying to see how much +money you could throw away?" she inquired. + +"Don't you like chicken?" + +"Yes, I like chicken," she answered. + +"There are other things underneath, and hot coffee in the bottles," he +announced. + +Just to see how far he had gone, she took out the other things. She +caught her breath. + +"Well, it's your own affair," she commented. "But, if you eat all +this, I'm sorry for you." + +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. + +"Look here!" he exclaimed. "You didn't think I bought this all for +myself?" + +"I'd rather think that than to think you thought I was silly enough to +want you to throw away your money." + +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. + +"You aren't going to have any of this?" + +"No, thank you." + +"I call that rather too bad, because if you don't it will be wasted." + +"It was wasted when you bought it." + +"But you didn't tell me what to get." + +"I told you we'd each bring our own luncheon," she reminded him. + +"And so we did; but I don't call it very friendly of you not to share +with me." + +"I have quite enough of my own." + +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. + +"Aren't you going to eat your lunch?" she demanded. + +"I refuse to eat alone." + +"I'm the one who is eating alone," she said. + +"That seems to be what you want." + +"You've no right to do things and then blame me for them," she +protested. + +"You're doing all the blaming yourself," he returned. + +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. + +"It was silly enough to buy all those expensive things, but it would +be even sillier to throw them away," she asserted. + +"It would at least be too bad," he confessed. "But I can't help it, +can I? I can't _make_ you eat, you know." + +There he went again, placing the whole blame on her. + +"Hand me that basket," she ordered. + +He handed her the basket, and she brought out the delicacies. + +"Next time I shall prepare both lunches," she declared. + +"That will be very nice," he nodded. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +A LETTER + + +Letter from Miss Frances Stuyvesant to Donald Pendleton, Esq.:-- + + PARIS, FRANCE, June 20. + + DEAR OLD DON:-- + +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. + +Now I must hurry up and dress; but please remember that I am still, as +always, + + Your FRANCES. + + + + +CHAPTER XX + +STARS + + +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. + +"We can go down there, have our supper, and then get out of the crowd +and smell the ocean awhile," he said. + +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. + +"What do you say?" he pressed her. + +She blushed at her own hesitancy. + +"Oh, I'll go," she answered. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +"See those stars!" he exclaimed, as if this were the first time he had +ever seen them. + +She lifted her eyes and looked at them. + +"I often look at them," she said. + +Then she laughed gently to herself. + +"Do you know what I do when I'm silly enough to want jewels?" she +asked. + +"What?" + +"I take a look at those stars, and then I don't want jewels any +more." + +"A man could give away diamonds by the handful if women would take +that kind," he exclaimed. "See that big fellow up there?" He pointed +it out, and she nodded. + +"I'll give you that one," he offered. + +She laughed lightly--confidently. + +"But I don't have to come to you or to any one," she reminded him. "I +can just give it to myself." + +"That isn't quite the same thing, is it?" + +No, it was not quite the same thing. She knew it. But she was not +telling all she knew. + +"It's a wonder to me you've never married," he said. + +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. + +"I suppose you've figured out that, with all your free diamonds, +you're better off as you are," he suggested. + +She did not answer. + +"Is that the way of it?" he persisted. + +She tried to make her voice natural, but there was a tightening in her +throat. + +"I haven't done much figuring of any kind along that line," she said. + +He was looking out to sea. + +"I don't know but what both men and women are better off unmarried," +he said. + +"They aren't," she answered. + +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. + +"You mean that?" he said. + +"I mean it," she answered. + +"Even if a man hasn't much money?" + +She turned her eyes again to the sky. + +"What has money to do with the stars?" she asked. + +"Do you think a man in my position has any right to ask a woman to +marry him?" + +"What has your position to do with it?" she asked. + +"It has a lot if the woman wants five times what I'm earning," he +answered. + +She gave a little startled cry. The stars swam before her. + +"Oh!" she gasped. "You mean--you mean you're thinking of some one +like--like that?" + +"Yes," he answered. + +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. + +"I asked her to marry me a year ago," he said. + +The stars were still swimming before her. + +"And--and she said--?" + +"She said she thought I ought to wait until I was earning ten +thousand." + +"And that's the reason you--you wanted the ten thousand?" + +"Yes. You didn't think I wanted it for myself, did you?" + +"I didn't know," she answered. + +It was like a load removed from his shoulders. He breathed freer. + +"You're the most sensible woman I ever met, and I thought you could +help me." + +She hated that word sensible now, though when Mr. Seagraves had used +it to her it had seemed like a compliment. + +"You see, I had plenty of money when we 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." + +"Where is--where is she now?" Miss Winthrop demanded. + +"She went abroad in June to stay until September." + +"And left you here?" + +"Of course. I couldn't go." + +"And left you here?" she repeated. + +"That's what you get for being in business," he explained. "We had +planned to go together--on our honeymoon." + +The air was getting chill. She shivered. + +"Aren't you warm enough?" he asked. + +He started to remove his jacket to throw over her shoulders, but she +objected. + +"I'm all right." + +"Better put it on." + +"No; I don't want it." + +They were silent a moment, and then she said, almost complainingly:-- + +"As long as you couldn't go, why didn't she stay here with you?" + +The question startled him. + +"In town?" he exclaimed. + +"Why didn't she stay here and look after you?" + +"Why, she couldn't do that when she was going abroad." + +"Then she had no business to go abroad," she answered fiercely. + +"Now, look here," he put in. "We aren't married, you know. We're only +engaged." + +"But _why_ aren't you married?" + +"We couldn't afford it." + +"That isn't true. You could afford it on half what you're earning." + +He shook his head. "You don't know." + +"She should have married you, and if she wanted more she should have +stayed and helped you get more." + +"And helped?" he exclaimed. + +She was looking up at the stars again. They were getting steadier. + +"It's the only way a woman can show--she cares." + +Then she rose. She was shivering again. + +"I think we'd better go now." + +"But we haven't been here a half-hour," he protested. + +"We've been here quite a long while," she answered. "Please, I want to +go home now." + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +IN THE DARK + + +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. + +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 +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. + +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 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. + +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! + +To put one's self in another's place--in a place of so delicate a +nature as this--is a dangerous 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. + +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. + +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. 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. + +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 make in her relations with him? To +put the matter bluntly, she was acting exactly as if she were in love +with him herself! + +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. + +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, 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. + +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. + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + +THE SENSIBLE THING + + +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. + +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 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? + +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. + +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. + +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. + +Don met her a little way from the office, and she fell into step at +his side. + +"I was sort of worried about you last night," he said. "You looked +tired." + +"I guess I was," she answered. + +"Don't you get a vacation before long?" + +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. + +"I've decided to take it next month," she answered. + +She decided that much on the spot. + +"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." + +"I should think you had something very important to do with it," she +answered quickly. + +"What do you mean?" + +"Take it for your wedding trip." + +The suggestion made him catch his breath. "Look here," he exclaimed. +"That means getting married!" + +"Surely it does," she nodded. + +They had reached the little restaurant, and 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. + +"You put that up to a man as if it were the easiest thing in the +world," he observed, sitting in the next chair. + +"Well, it is, isn't it--once you've made up your mind?" + +"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." + +"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." + +"Eh?" + +"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." + +Don laughed. + +"That phrase makes a man feel ten years married." + +She had been trying hard to eat her lunch, but without much success. +He noticed this. + +"What's the matter with you?" he inquired. + +"I don't happen to be hungry, that's all," she answered. + +"You didn't catch cold last night?" + +"No." + +"But look here--" + +"Oh, I'm all right," she answered. + +He went to the counter and returned with some doughnuts for himself +and a piece of cake for her. + +"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." + +"It isn't exactly my suggestion." + +"You proposed it a minute ago." + +"All I said was that if you mean to get married, you'd better do it +right away and be done with it." + +"During my vacation?" + +She brought her lips together. + +"Yes." + +"Do you know, that rather appeals to me," he answered thoughtfully. + +She turned aside her head. + +"It's the only sensible thing," she assured him. + +"It would give a man a chance to settle down and attend to business." + +"And give his wife a chance to help him." + +"By Jove, I'm going to propose that to Frances the day she lands!" he +exclaimed. + +He was finishing his last doughnut. Miss Winthrop rose. Once outside, +she could breathe freely. She said:-- + +"Her--her name is Frances?" + +"Frances Stuyvesant," he nodded. + +"When do you expect her home?" + +"The first of September." + +"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." + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + +LOOKING AHEAD + + +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. + +Back in her room that night, Miss Winthrop saw all these things quite +clearly. And she saw 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. + +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. + +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; 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. + +He began to think about what changes in the house would be necessary +before she came. He talked this over with Miss Winthrop. + +"I wish you could come up and look the place over before Frances gets +here," he said to her one day. + +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. + +"I wish I could," she answered sincerely. + +"Well, why can't you?" he asked. + +"It's impossible--of course," she said. + +"I could arrange a little dinner and ask some one to chaperon," he +suggested. + +"It's out of the question," she answered firmly. "You can tell me all +about it." + +"But telling you about it isn't like letting you see it," he said. + +"It is almost as good, and--almost as good is something, isn't it?" + +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. + +"I'd have Nora give everything a thorough cleaning before September," +she advised. + +"I'll do that," he nodded. + +He wrote it down in his notebook, and that night spoke to Nora about +it. She appeared decidedly interested. + +"It's possible that in the fall you may have some one else besides me +to look after," he confided to her in explanation. + +"It's to be soon, sir?" she asked eagerly. + +"In September, perhaps," he admitted. + +"It would please your father, sir," she answered excitedly. "It's +lonesome it's been for you, sir." + +He did not answer, but he thought about that a little. No, it had not +been exactly lonesome for him--not lately. That was because he was +looking ahead. That was it. + +"It hasn't seemed quite natural for you to be living on here alone, +sir," she ventured. + +"Dad lived here alone," he reminded her. + +"Not at your age, sir," answered Nora. + +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. + +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. + +Sail Monday on the Mauretania, but Dolly wants me to spend next two +weeks after arrival in the Adirondacks with her. + +Miss Winthrop returned the cable with a none too steady hand. + +"She mustn't do that," she said firmly. + +"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?" + +"I don't think I would," Miss Winthrop replied. "But I would let her +know I didn't approve of her arrangement." + +"Supposing I just say, 'Have other plans for you'?" + +"That would do," she nodded. + +So he sent her this message, and that evening at dinner Miss Winthrop +spoke to him of another matter. + +"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?" + +"Tell Stuyvesant?" he exclaimed. + +"Why should he object?" she asked. + +"I don't know as he will. Then again he might. You see, I've never +told him just how Dad tied things up." + +"What difference does that make?" she demanded. "With the house and +what you're earning, you have enough." + +"It isn't as much as he expects a man to give his daughter, +though,--not by a long shot." + +"It's enough," she insisted. "Why, even without the house it would be +enough." + +"Yes," he answered, with a smile. "When you say it--it's enough. I +wish Stuyvesant knew you." + +The blood came into her cheeks. She wished he wouldn't say things like +that. + +"It seems to me you ought to see him and tell him," she said +thoughtfully. + +He shook his head. + +"What's the use of seeing him until I've seen Frances?" + +"It's all settled about her." + +"That she'll marry me in September?" + +"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." + +"I wish I were as confident as you!" + +"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." + +"And Frances is all ready?" + +"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." + +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.... + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV + +VACATIONS + + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +"Look at 'em," he said. "They seem nearer to-night than I've ever seen +them." + +[Illustration: "I GUESS WOMEN ARE DIFFERENT FROM MEN"] + +She was a bit jealous of those stars. It had been when with her that +he had first seen them. + +"You aren't looking," he complained. + +She turned her eyes to the sky. To her they seemed farther away than +ever. + +"Maybe Frances is looking at those same stars," he said. + +She resented the suggestion. She turned her eyes back to the street. + +"Where's the star I gave you?" he asked. + +"It's gone," she answered. + +"Have you lost it?" + +"I can't see it." + +"Now, look here," he chided her lightly. "I don't call that very nice. +You don't have a star given you every night." + +"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." + +"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. + +"I'll give you that one, and please don't lose it." + +She was not looking. + +"Do you see it?" he insisted. + +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. + +"Yes," she answered, with a break in her voice. + +"That one is yours," he assured her. + +It was as if he added, "All the rest belong to Frances." + +She held out her hand to him. + +"Thank you for your star," she said. "And--and I wish you the best of +luck." + +He took her hand, but he was confused by the note of finality in her +voice. + +"I don't see any need of being so solemn about saying good-night," he +returned. + +He continued to hold her hand firmly. + +"But it's good-bye and--God-speed, too," she reminded him. + +"How do you make that out?" + +"You're going on a long journey, and I--I'm going on a little +journey." + +"You? Where are you going?" + +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. + +"My vacation begins to-morrow," she answered. + +"And you're going away--out of town?" + +She nodded. + +"You can't do that," he protested. "Why, I was depending upon you +these next few days." + +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. + +"You mustn't depend upon any one these next few days but yourself," +she answered earnestly. "And after that--just yourself and her." + +"That's well enough if everything comes out all right." + +"Make it come out right. That's your privilege as a man. Oh, that's +why it's so good to be a man!" + +"You ought to have been a man yourself," he told her. + +She caught her breath at that, and insisted upon withdrawing her +hand. + +"I used to think I'd like to be," she answered. + +"And now?" + +She shook her head. + +He had swung the talk back to her again, when the talk should have +been all of him and Frances. + +"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?" + +"No," he answered. + +"Your home, your wife, and your work--it's wonderful to make good in +so many things all at once! So--good-bye." + +"You talk as if you were not coming back again!" + +"I'm coming back to Carter, Rand & Seagraves--if that's what you +mean." + +"And you're coming back here--to your home?" + +"Yes; I'm coming back here." + +"Then we'll just say s'long." + +"No. We must say good-bye." + +She had not wished to say this in so many words. She had hoped he +would take the new situation for granted. + +"When I come back you must look on me as--as Mr. Farnsworth does." + +"That's nonsense." + +"No; it's very, very good sense. It's the only thing possible. Can't +you see?" + +"No." + +"Then Frances will help you see." + +"She won't want to make a cad of me; I know that." + +"I'm going in now." + +She opened the door behind her. + +"Wait a moment," he pleaded. + +"No, I can't wait any longer. Good-bye." + +She was in the dark hall now. + +"Good-bye," she repeated. + +"S'long," he answered. + +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. + + + + +CHAPTER XXV + +IN THE PARK + + +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. + +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 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. + +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. + +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. + +"Dear old Don," she said. "It's good to see you again. But you look +tired." + +"And you look beautiful!" he exclaimed. + +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. 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. + +"Don, dear, what's the matter?" + +He was so long silent that she was worried. He passed his hand over +his forehead. + +"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." + +"Nice things?" + +"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?" + +"Where, Don?" + +He smiled. + +"In the park." + +"What an odd fancy!" she answered. + +"Here I get you all mixed up with your father and mother and the +Queen," he ran on. "I want to talk to you alone." + +He sounded more natural to her when he talked like that. + +"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 _were_ those other plans you cabled me about?" + +"Those are what I want to talk over with you," he answered. + +"What are they? I'm dying to know." + +"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." + +He turned. + +"Don't you want to--to--" + +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. + +"I'll be here at two. And, this once--you must cancel every other +engagement." + +"Yes, Don." + +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. + +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. + +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. + +"She will love it," she had assured him. + +It was as if he heard her voice again repeating 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. + +"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." + +As she said it he felt that to be true, although to him it was a +brand-new point of view. + +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. + +"It's in you to get everything in the world you want," she had said +last night, when she was leaving him. + +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. + +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. + +It was after two when he reached the house, but Frances was not ready. +She was never quite ready. + +"I'll wait outside," he told the maid. + +The maid raised her brows a trifle, but answered civilly:-- + +"Very well, sir." + +As he walked back and forth the Stuyvesant machine also drew up before +the door and 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. + +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. + +"I have several little things to do after we've had our walk," she +explained to Don, as he came up. + +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:-- + +"Central Park." + +Then he turned to her. + +"When we get there we must get out and walk." + +"Very well, Don," she submitted; "but I think we'd be much more +comfortable right here." + +She regarded him anxiously. + +"Is anything worrying you, Don?" + +"Only you," he answered. + +"I?" she exclaimed. "If it's because of Jimmy Schuyler, you needn't +worry any more. He was very nice at first, but later--well, he was +too nice. You see, he forgot I was engaged." + +"The little cad!" exclaimed Don. + +"You mustn't blame him too much. He just forgot. And now he is very +attentive to Dolly." + +"She allows it?" + +"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?" + +"It doesn't appeal to me just now," he answered. + +The machine had swung into the park. He ordered the chauffeur to +stop. + +"Come," he said to Frances. + +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. + +"It's about the other plans I want to tell you out here," he began +eagerly. + +"Yes, Don." + +"I've done a lot of work while you were away," he said proudly. + +"It seems a pity it was necessary," she answered. + +"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." + +She looked puzzled. + +"You mean you've been made a partner or something?" + +"Hardly that--yet," he smiled. "But it's pretty sure I'll be put to +selling when I come back." + +"You're going away?" + +"I'm on my vacation," he explained. "This is the first day of my +vacation." + +"Oh, then you _can_ come with us?" + +"I'd rather you came with me." + +"With you, Don? But where?" + +"Anywhere you wish, as long as we go together and alone. Only we must +get back in two weeks." + +"Don, dear!" + +"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 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." + +She stared about in fear lest some one might be overhearing his +rambling talk. + +"Don," she gasped. + +"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." + +She did not answer. She could not. She was left quite paralyzed. He +was leaning forward expectantly. + +"You'll come with me?" + +It was a full minute before she could answer. Then she said:-- + +"It's so impossible, Don." + +"Impossible?" + +"One doesn't--doesn't get married that way!" + +"What does it matter how one gets married?" he answered. + +"What would people say?" + +"I don't care what they'd say." + +"You mustn't get like that, Don, dear," she chided him. "Why, that's +being an anarchist or something, isn't it?" + +"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." + +She did not answer, because she did not quite know what he was talking +about. Yet, her 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. + +"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?" + +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. + +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 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. + +"Oh, Don," she exclaimed, "it's only people in stories who do that +way!" + +"It's the way we can do--if you will." + +"There's Dad," she reminded him. + +"He let you become engaged, didn't he?" + +"Yes; but--you don't know him as well as I." + +"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?" + +She reached for his hand and pressed it. + +"I'll give him a chance, but I can't wait. We haven't time to bother +with a wedding--do you mind that?" + +"No, Don." + +"Then, if he doesn't object--it's to-morrow or next day?" + +"You--you take away my breath," she answered. + +"And if he does object?" + +"Don't let's think of that--now," she said. "Let's walk a little--in +the park. It's wonderful out here, Don." + +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. + +"This is all you need," he whispered. "Just to walk out here a +little." + + + + +CHAPTER XXVI + +ONE STUYVESANT + + +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. + +"What's the matter, girlie?" he asked. + +"Nothing, Dad," she answered. "Only--I'm very happy." + +"Good," he nodded. "And that is what I want you to be every minute of +your life." + +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. + +"Frances said you wished to talk over something with me," he said. + +"Yes, sir," answered Don. He did not sit down. He could think better +on his feet. "It's about our marriage." + +Stuyvesant did not answer. He never answered until the other man was +through. Then he knew where he stood. + +"I don't know whether or not you know the sort of will father left," +began Don. + +Stuyvesant did know, but he gave no indication of the fact. He had +been waiting a year for something of this sort. + +"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. + +"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. She said that was what her allowance had been." + +Again Don paused, in the hope that Stuyvesant might wish to contribute +something to the conversation. But Stuyvesant waited for him to +continue. + +"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." + +Don lighted a cigarette. The further he went, the less interest he was +taking in this explanation. Stuyvesant's apparent indifference +irritated him. + +"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." + +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. + +"You mean you've asked my daughter to marry you on that salary?" +inquired Stuyvesant. + +"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." + +Stuyvesant flicked the ashes from his cigar. "What was her reply?" + +"She wanted me to put the proposition before you. That's why I'm +here." + +"I see. And just what do you expect of me?" + +"I suppose she wants your consent," answered Don. "Anyhow, it seemed +only decent to let you know." + +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." + +It was Don's turn to remain silent. + +"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." + +"I don't get that last," Don answered quietly. + +"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." + +"In a way, that's just what I _am_ thinking," answered Don. + +"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." + +"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." + +"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 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." + +"In money?" asked Don. + +"The something more--not in money." + +He rose and stood before Don. + +"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." + +He paused as if expecting an outburst from Don. The latter remained +silent. + +"I've trusted you with the girl," Stuyvesant concluded. "Up to now +I've no fault to find 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." + +"If that means not asking Frances to marry me to-morrow, you can't, +sir." + +"You--you wouldn't ask her to go against my wishes in the matter?" + +"I would, sir." + +"And you expect her to do so?" + +"I hope she will." + +"Well, she won't," Stuyvesant answered. He was chewing his cigar +again. + +"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." + +"Then stay where you are," snapped Stuyvesant. "Don't try to drag in +Frances." + +Don prepared to leave. + +"It's a pity you aren't stony broke too," he observed. + +"Thanks," answered Stuyvesant. "But I'm not, and I don't intend to +have my daughter put in that position." + +"You haven't forgotten that I have a house and twelve hundred?" + +"I haven't forgotten that is all you have." + +"You haven't forgotten the something more?" + +Stuyvesant looked at his watch. + +"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." + +"As you wish," answered Pendleton. "But I hope you'll come and see +us?" + +"Damn you, Pendleton!" he exploded. + +Then he turned quickly and left the room. So, after all, it was he in +the end who lost his temper. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVII + +THE STARS AGAIN + + +Don went to the nearest telephone and rang up Frances. + +"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?" + +"I've just seen him," she answered. "Oh, Don, it was awful!" + +"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." + +"Don, dear, he told me not to meet you anywhere again. He--he was +quite savage about it." + +"He had no right to tell you that," Don answered. "Anyhow, I must see +you. We'll talk it over under the stars." + +"But, Don--" + +"Please to hurry," he said. + +She slipped a scarf over her hair and a cape over her shoulders, and +walked to the corner, 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. + +"What did you say to him, Don?" she panted. + +"I told him I wished to marry you to-morrow," he answered. + +"And he--" + +"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." + +"I've never seen him so angry," she trembled. + +"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." + +She did not quite understand. She thought her father had already +decided this question. However, she said nothing. In something of a +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. + +"See those stars?" he asked, pointing. + +"Yes, Don." + +"I want you to keep looking at them while I'm talking to you," he +said. + +Just beyond the Big Dipper he saw the star he had given Sally +Winthrop. It smiled reassuringly at him. + +"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?" + +"Yes, Don." + +"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." + +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. + +"It's up there we'll be living most of the time," he was saying. + +"Yes, Don." + +"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." + +She lowered her eyes to his. What he was saying sounded topsy-turvy. + +"It's a fact," he ran on. "Why, you can get hungry if you don't have +too much money; and, 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." + +She thrilled with the magic of his voice, but his words were quite +meaningless. + +"You aren't looking at the stars," he reminded her. She looked up +again. + +"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--" + +She appeared frightened. + +"Oh, Don, we--we couldn't get married like that, anyway." + +"Why not?" he demanded. + +"It--it isn't possible." + +"Certainly it's possible." + +She shook her head. + +"No, no. I--I couldn't. Oh, Don, you'll have to give me time to +think." + +"There isn't time," he frowned. + +"We must take time. I'm--I'm afraid." + +"Afraid of what?" + +"Afraid of myself," she answered quickly. "Afraid of Dad. Oh, I'm +afraid of every one." + +"Of me?" He took her hand. + +"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." + +"That's because you didn't keep your eyes on the stars," he assured +her gently. + +"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." + +She was seeing herself clearly now and speaking from the depths of her +soul. + +"Maybe it isn't all my fault. And you're wonderful, Don. It's that +which makes me see myself." + +He kissed her hand. "Dear you," he whispered, "I know the woman 'way +down deep in you, and it's she I want." + +She shook her head. + +"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." + +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. + +"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." + +She drew her cape about her shoulders. + +"Yes," he answered in a hoarse whisper; "she's like that." + +"So, don't you see--" + +"Good Lord, I do see!" he exclaimed. + +Now he saw. + +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. + +Frances was frightened by his silence. + +"I--I think we'd better go back now," she said gently. + +He escorted her to the house without quite knowing how he found the +way. At the door she said:-- + +"Don't you understand, Don?" + +"Yes," he answered; "for the first time." + +"And you'll not think too badly of me?" + +"It isn't anything you can help," he answered. "It isn't anything I +can help, either." + +"Don't think too badly of Dad," she pleaded. "He'll cool down soon, +and then--you must come and see me again." + +She held out her hand, and he took it. Then 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. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII + +SEEING + + +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. + +"She'd want to be hungry with you," Frances had said. + +How had Sally Winthrop known that he was hungry? She had known, and +had shared with him what she had. + +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. + +Frances had used another phrase: "She'd be almost glad you had no +money." + +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. + +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. + +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." + +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. + +"Seems to me," she argued, "she'd have told parties where she was +going if she wanted them to know." + +"This is very important," he insisted. + +"Maybe it's a lot more important to you than it is to her," she +replied. + +"But--" + +"You can leave your name and address, and I'll write to her," she +offered. + +"Look here," Don said desperately. "Do you want to know what my +business is with her?" + +"It's none of my business, but--" + +"I want to ask her to marry me," he broke in. "That's a respectable +business, isn't it?" + +He reached in his pocket and drew out a bill. He slipped it into her +hand. + +"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?" + +"I'll wait here. Only hurry. There may be a late train." + +She was back in a few seconds, holding a slip of paper in her hand. + +"It's to Brenton, Maine, she's gone." + +Don grabbed the paper. + +"Thanks." + +He was halfway down the steps when she called after him:-- + +"Good luck to ye, sir." + +"Thanks again," he called back. + +Then he gave his order to the driver:-- + +"To the Grand Central." + +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. + +"I'm going away to-night for a few days--perhaps for two weeks," he +told Nora. + +"Yes, sir." + +"I'll wire you what my plans are--either to-morrow or next day." + +"And it is to be soon, sir?" + +"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." + +"I'll do that, sir." + +"And the house is ready, isn't it?" + +"Everything is ready, sir." + +"That's fine. Now I'm going to pack." + +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. + +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. +His own phrase came back to frighten him:-- + +"She'd care like that--if she cared at all." + +Supposing that after he found her, she did not care? + +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." + +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. + +At ten the next morning he took the train for Portland. At two he was +on the train for Brenton and hurrying through a strange country to +her side. + +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. + +"Can you tell me where Miss Winthrop is stopping?" + +The man looked blank. + +"No one of that name in this town," he finally answered. + +"Isn't this Brenton?" + +"It's Brenton, right enough." + +"Then she's here," declared Don. + +"Is she visitin'?" inquired the man. + +Don nodded. + +"A cousin, or something." + +A second man spoke up:-- + +"Ain't she the one who's stopping with Mrs. Halliday?" + +"Rather slight, with brown eyes," volunteered Don. + +"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." + +"That's she," Don decided. + +He drew a dollar bill from his pocket. + +"I want one of you to take a note to her from me." + +He wrote on the back of a card:-- + +I'm at the station. I must see you at once. + + DON. + +"Take that to her right away and bring me an answer," he ordered. + +The man took both bill and card and disappeared. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIX + +MOSTLY SALLY + + +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. + +"Won't you even shake hands with me?" he asked anxiously. + +"You--you gave me such a fright," she panted. + +"How?" + +"I thought--I thought you must have been run over." + +He seemed rather pleased. + +"And you cared?" he asked eagerly. + +She was fast recovering herself now. + +"Well, it wouldn't be unnatural to care, would it, if you expected to +find a friend all run over?" + +"And, now that you find I'm not a mangled corpse, you don't care at +all." + +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. + +"How in the world did you get here?" she demanded. + +"I took the train." + +"But--has anything happened?" + +"Lots of things have happened," he said. "That's what I want to tell +you about." + +He looked around. His messenger was taking an eager interest in the +situation. + +"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." + +She appeared frightened in a different sort of way now. + +"But, Mr. Pendleton--" + +"I'm going to remain here perhaps a day or two," he interrupted. + +To him the most obvious course was for her to ask him to meet her aunt +and invite him to remain there. + +"Is there a hotel in town?" he asked. + +"I--I don't think so," she faltered. + +"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." + +He was quite himself now. It was a relief to her. It put her quite off +her guard. + +"Won't you come and meet my aunt?" she invited. + +He picked up his suitcase at once. + +"It will be a pleasure," he answered. + +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 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. + +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. + +She looked up at him. + +"I--I thought you had something very important to do in these next few +days," she reminded him. + +"I have," he answered. + +"Then--I don't understand how you came here." + +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 in the past he had +argued with her he had succeeded. + +"I needed you to explain certain things to me," he replied. + +She looked away from him. + +"About what?" she asked quickly. + +"About getting me married." + +"Oh!" she exclaimed. + +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. + +"I'll have to run ahead and prepare Mrs. Halliday," she said. + +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 of this stranger she was +willing to accept him with much less suspicion than Miss Winthrop. + +"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." + +"It's mighty good of you to take me in this way," he said. + +"Laws sake, what's a spare room for?" + +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. + +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 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. + +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. + +"Don't let me disturb you," he protested. + +That was very easy to say, but he did disturb her. Then Mrs. Halliday +shooed her out of the kitchen. + +"You run right along now; I can attend to things myself." + +"I'd like to help, too," said Don. + +"Run along--both of you," insisted Mrs. Halliday. "You'd be more +bother than help." + +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. + +"I have something very important to say to you," he began. + +"To me?" she exclaimed. + +Again there was the expression of astonishment and--something more. + +"It's about my getting married," he nodded. + +"But I thought that was all settled!" + +"It is," he admitted. + +"Oh!" + +"I think it was settled long before I knew it." + +"Then you're to be married right away?" + +"I hope so." + +"That will be nice." + +"It will be wonderful," he exclaimed. "It will be the most wonderful +thing in the world!" + +"But why did you come 'way down here?" + +"To talk it over with you. You see, a lot depends upon you." + +"Me?" + +Again that questioning personal pronoun. + +"A great deal depends upon you. You are to say when it is to be." + +"Mr. Pendleton!" + +"I wish you'd remember I'm not in the office of Carter, Rand & +Seagraves now. Can't you call me just Don?" + +She did not answer. + +"Because," he explained, "I mean to call you Sally." + +"You mustn't." + +"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?" + +Startled, she glanced up swiftly. What she saw in his eyes made her +catch her breath. He was speaking rapidly now:-- + +"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." + +She gave a little cry and covered her face with her hands. + +"Don't do that," he pleaded. + +[Illustration: "IT'S ABOUT MY GETTING MARRIED"] + +She looked as if she were crying. + +"Sally--Sally Winthrop, you aren't crying?" + +He placed a hand upon her arm. + +"Don't touch me!" she sobbed. + +"Why shouldn't I touch you?" + +"Because--because this is all a horrible mistake." + +"I'm trying to correct a horrible mistake," he answered gently. + +"No--no--no. You must go back to her--right away." + +"To Frances?" + +She nodded. + +"You don't understand. She doesn't want to marry me." + +"You asked her?" + +"Yes." + +"And then--and then you came to me?" + +"Yes, little girl. She sent me to you. She--why, it was she that made +me see straight!" + +Her face was still concealed. + +"I--I wish you'd go away," she sobbed. + +"You don't understand!" he answered fiercely. "I'm not going away. I +love you, and I've come to get you. I won't go away until you come +with me." + +She rose to her feet, her back toward him. + +"Go away!" she cried. + +Then she ran into the house, leaving him standing there dazed. + + + + +CHAPTER XXX + +DON EXPLAINS + + +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. + +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 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. + +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. + +She began to cry again. It was not fair. It 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. + +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 could not endure this very long--certainly not for +eleven days. + +"Sally--where are you?" + +It was Mrs. Halliday's voice from downstairs. + +"I'm coming," she answered. + +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. + +"I declare, I don't think young folks eat as much as they useter in my +days," she commented. + +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 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. + +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. + +"What did you run into the house for?" he demanded. + +"Please let's not talk any more, of that," she pleaded. + +"But it's the nub of the whole matter," he insisted. + +"I went in because I did not want to talk any more." + +"Very well. Then you needn't talk. But you can listen, can't you?" + +"That's the same thing." + +"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?" + +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. + +"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." + +He paused a moment. + +"I wish I'd brought a picture of her with me," he resumed thoughtfully, +"because she's really a peach." + +Miss Winthrop looked up quickly. He was apparently serious. + +"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?" + +Miss Winthrop shook her head with a quick little jerk. + +"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." + +Miss Winthrop was sitting with her chin in her hands, looking intently +at the brick path leading to the house. + +"You listening?" + +She nodded jerkily. + +"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?" + +She nodded. + +"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 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." + +"I--I didn't mean to," she interrupted. + +"You're talking," he reminded her. + +She closed her lips firmly together. + +"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." + +She shuddered. + +"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." + +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. + +"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." + +Again he paused. It was as if he were trying hard to keep his +balance. + +"I want her to know you," he went on. "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." + +She was still huddled up. + +"And here I am," he concluded. + +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. + +"I'm here, little girl," he said patiently. + +"Even after I told you to go away," she choked. + +"Even after you told me to go away." + +"If you only hadn't come at all!" + +"What else was there for me to do?" + +"You--you could have gone to that camp with her. She wanted you to +go." + +"I told her I couldn't go there--long before I knew why." + +"You could have gone--oh, there are so many other places you could go! +And this is the only place I _could_ go." + +"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." + +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. + +"I'm sorry," she said. + +"That's something," he nodded. + +"I--I guess the only thing for me to do is to go away myself." + +"Where?" + +"Back to New York. Oh, I wish I hadn't taken a vacation!" + +"We'll go back if you say so; but it seems foolish after traveling all +this distance." + +"I meant to go back alone," she hastened to correct him. + +"And leave me with Mrs. Halliday?" + +"Please don't mix things all up!" + +"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--" + +He tried to find her hands, but she had them pressed over her eyes. + +"With you back home to help," he repeated--"there's not anything in +the world we won't get." + +And the dream woman in Sally answered to the woman on the steps:-- + +"There's not anything more in the world we'll want when we're home." + +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:-- + +"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." + +She rose swiftly to her feet. + +"Oh, we mustn't talk about it!" she exclaimed. + +He too rose, and he placed both his hands upon her shoulders. + +"I don't understand," he said quickly. "What is it you don't +believe?" + +"I don't believe in fairies," she answered bitterly. + +"Don't you believe that I love you?" + +"To-night--perhaps," she answered. + +Her eyes were not meeting his. + +"You don't believe my love will last?" + +"I--I don't know." + +"Because of Frances?" + +"Everything is so different in New York," she answered. + +"Because of Frances?" + +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. + +"I thought you'd understand about her. I thought you were the one +woman in the world who'd understand." + +She looked up quickly. + +"Perhaps it's easier for men to understand those things than women," +she said. + +"There's so little to understand." + +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. + +"In the morning," she gasped. + +"All right," he answered. + +He took her hand--catching her unawares. + +"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." + +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. + +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. 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. + +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. + +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 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. + +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-- + +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. + +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 he had been thinking. She clenched her hands and +faced the girl. + +"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. + +"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." + +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:-- + +"I made him--not you." + +Sally Winthrop sank into a chair. She began to cry--but softly now. + +"You're mine, Don," she whispered. "You're mine because I took care of +you." + +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. + +"What is it?" she exclaimed. + +"Oh, I'm sorry if I woke you," answered the girl. "But it's turned +cold, and I wondered if Don--if Mr. Pendleton had enough bedclothes." + +"Laws sake," answered Mrs. Halliday. "I gave him two extra comforters, +and if that ain't enough he deserves to freeze." + + + + +CHAPTER XXXI + +SALLY DECIDES + + +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. + +"In the morning," she had said. + +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 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. + +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. + +"Land sakes alive," she gasped, "I didn't expect to see you for a +couple hours." + +"I know it's early," he answered uncomfortably; "I don't suppose Sally +is up?" + +Mrs. Halliday touched a match to the kindling and put the stove covers +back in place. + +"There isn't anything lazy about Sally, but she generally does wait +until the sun is up," she returned. + +She filled the teakettle and then, adjusting her glasses, took a more +critical look at Don. + +"Wasn't ye warm enough last night?" she demanded. + +"Plenty, thank you," he answered. + +"Perhaps bein' in new surroundings bothered you," she suggested; "I +can't ever sleep myself till I git used to a place." + +"I slept like a log," he assured her. + +"Is this the time ye ginerally git up in New York?" + +"Not quite as early as this," he admitted. "But, you see, that +rooster--" + +"I see," she nodded. "And ye kind of hoped it might wake up Sally +too?" + +"I took a chance," he smiled. + +"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." + +"Thanks." + +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 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. + +"Mrs. Halliday--" he began. + +"Wal?" she replied, without turning. She was at that moment busy over +the biscuit board. + +"There's something I think I ought to tell you." + +She turned instantly at that--turned, adjusted her spectacles, and +waited. + +"I--I've asked Sally to marry me," he confessed. + +For a moment her thin, wrinkled face remained immobile. Then he saw a +smile brighten the shrewd gray eyes. + +"You don't say!" she answered. "I've been wonderin' just how long ye'd +be tellin' me that." + +"You knew? Sally told you?" he exclaimed. + +"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--" + +"She did that?" interrupted Don. + +"Thet's jest what she did. But long afore thet you told me yourself." + +"I?" + +"Of course. It's jest oozin' out all over you." + +She came nearer. For a second Don felt as though those gray eyes were +boring into his soul. + +"Look here, young man," she said. "What did Sally say?" + +"She said she'd let me know this morning," he answered. + +"And you've been blamin' my old rooster for gettin' you up?" + +"Not blaming him exactly," he apologized. + +"And you aren't sure whether she's goin' to say yes or goin' to say +no?" + +Don's lips tightened. + +"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." + +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. + +"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 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." + +"That's the trouble," he answered. "She didn't let me go as far as +this. I--I just went." + +Mrs. Halliday smiled again. + +"Mebbe you think so," she admitted. + +"You see--" he stammered. + +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. + +"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." + +"I'll set the table, Aunty," replied Sally grimly. + +"You'll do nothing of the kind," replied Mrs. Halliday. + +She crossed the room and, taking Sally by one arm she took Don by the +other. She led them to the door. + +"Out with you," she commanded. + +Alone with her Don turned to seek Sally's eyes and saw the frown still +there. + +"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." + +He took her arm. + +"You've decided?" he asked. + +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. + +"Heart of me," he burst out, "you've decided?" + +"You--you had no right to tell her," she answered. + +"Come down the road a bit," he pleaded. + +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. + +"I only told her what she already knew," he said. + +"She knew?" + +He spoke in a lower voice--a voice gentle and trembling. + +"She said you came in last night after she had gone asleep--" + +Sally covered her face with her hands. + +"Oh," she gasped, "she--she told you that?" + +He reached up and gently removed her hands. He held them tight in both +of his. + +"It was good of you to think of me like that. It was like you," he +said. + +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 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. + +"She hasn't answered me even yet," he explained to Mrs. Halliday. + +"Oh, Don," cried the trembling girl, her voice smothered in Mrs. +Halliday's shoulder. "You dare say that after--" + +"Well, after what?" demanded Mrs. Halliday. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXII + +BARTON APPEARS + + +The details of the wedding Mrs. Halliday decided to take over into her +own hands. + +"You two can just leave that to me," she informed them. + +"But look here," protested Don, "I don't see why we need bother with a +lot of fuss and--" + +"What business is this of yours?" Mrs. Halliday challenged him. + +"Only we haven't much time," he warned. + +"There's going to be time enough for Sally to be married properly," +she decided. + +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. + +"It's been kept ag'in' this very day," explained Mrs. Halliday, +"though I will say that I was beginnin' to git discouraged." + +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. + +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 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. + +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 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. + +"What's the use of being engaged if I can't kiss you as often as I +wish?" he demanded once. + +"We're engaged in order to be married," she explained. + +"And after we are married--" + +"You wait and see," she answered, her cheeks as red as any schoolgirl's. + +"But that's three days off," he complained. + +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 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. + +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. + +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 way of preparation except perhaps +to increase the quantity of cake and ices. + +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,-- + +"How do, Don?" + +Turning, he saw Barton in a frock coat and a tall hat that he might +have worn last at Pendleton, Senior's, wedding. + +"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." + +"I could hardly do less for Pendleton's boy," answered Barton. + +"Well, sir, you're mighty welcome. Come right in. Oh, Sally," he +called. + +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. It +was not exactly the costume she would have chosen in which first to +meet Mr. Barton. Her cheeks showed it. + +"Sally," said Don, "this is Mr. Barton--my father's lawyer. Mr. +Barton, this is Miss Winthrop." + +Barton bowed low with old-fashioned courtesy. Then he allowed his keen +gray eyes to rest a moment upon hers. + +"I am very glad to meet you," he said. + +"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." + +Mrs. Halliday was scarcely more presentable than Miss Winthrop, but +the latter found a certain relief in that fact. + +"I'm glad to know you," Mrs. Halliday greeted him cordially. + +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. + +"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." + +"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." + +"It was an unpleasant duty," nodded Barton, "but I hope it may be my +good fortune to make up for that." + +"I'm afraid the only place you can sit is on the front doorstep," +laughed Sally. + +"As good a place as any," answered Don, leading the way. + +"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." + +"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." + +"I hope you aren't going to take the house away from me," scowled +Don. + +"No," answered Barton slowly. "It has to do rather with an additional +provision. The 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." + +"Eh?" + +"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." + +"Oh, Sally!" called Don. + +She came running again. It was still four hours before they would be +safely married and many things might happen in four hours. + +"Sit down here and listen to this," he commanded. "Now, do you mind +saying that all over again?" + +Barton repeated his statement. + +"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." + +"Don!" + +"Well, it is." + +"And besides," she gasped, "Mr. Barton has not yet said he approves." + +Mr. Barton arose. + +"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." + +"Good old Barton!" choked Don. + +"There's one thing more," said Barton--"a--a little present for +myself." + +He handed Don an envelope. + +"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." + +"I'm not a bride yet," answered Sally demurely, "but--" + +She came to Barton's side and he kissed her on the cheek. + +"It's too bad that Pendleton couldn't have lived to know his son's +wife," he said. + +A little later Don gave Sally the envelope to open. It contained a +check for five hundred dollars. + +"Good Heavens!" exclaimed Don, "we're rolling in wealth. I guess when +we get back to town we'll have to buy a car." + +"When we get back to town we'll open a bank account," corrected +Sally. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIII + +A BULLY WORLD + + +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 +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. + +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. + +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 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. + +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. + +"Heart of mine," he whispered as he kissed her lips again and +again,--"heart of mine, this is a bully old world." + +"You've made it that, Don." + +"I? I haven't had anything to do about it except to get you." + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIV + +DON MAKES GOOD + + +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. + +"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." + +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. + +He humored her delay, though Nora was 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. + +"Gawd bless ye," she beamed. + +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. + +"Does it suit you, wife of mine?" he asked. + +With the joy of it all, her eyes filled. + +"It's even more beautiful than I thought it would be," she trembled. + +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, 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. + +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. + +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. + +"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." + +"You're right," agreed Sally. "But you won't need an alarm-clock." + +"Eh?" + +"You wait and see." + +Sally was awake at six the next morning and Don himself less than one +minute after. + +"Time to get up," she called. + +"I'm sleepy," murmured Don. + +"Then to-morrow night you'll get to bed one hour earlier. But--up with +you." + +"Right-o," he answered as he sprang from bed. "But there's no need of +your getting up." + +"I'd be ashamed of myself if I didn't." + +She had breakfast with him that first work morning as she planned to +do every morning of her life after that. + +"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." + +"I guess we can use it, little woman," he laughed. + +"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." + +"It takes half the worry with it, too," he reminded her. + +She thought a moment. Then she kissed him. + +"Maybe it's good for people to worry a bit," she answered. + +"You've already done your share," he returned. "You're going to meet +me for lunch at twelve?" + +"Yes, Don." + +"Sure?" + +"Of course, it's sure." + +"I wish it were twelve now." + +"You're not to think of me again until twelve comes--not once. You're +to tend to business." + +"I know, but--" + +She kissed him again. + +"Along with you." + +She took his arm and led him to the door and there--where, for all he +cared, the whole street might have seen him--he turned quickly and +kissed her once more. + +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. + +"You certainly put one over on us," exclaimed Blake. + +"Well, let it go at that," Don frowned. + +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. + +"Always heard bridegrooms were a bit touchy," returned Blake. + +Don stepped nearer. + +"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." + +A few minutes later Farnsworth restored his good humor. As he came +into the private office, Farnsworth rose and extended his hand. + +"I want to congratulate you, Pendleton," he said sincerely. + +"Thank you," answered Don. + +"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." + +"She taught me all I know about the game," confessed Don. + +"You couldn't have had a better teacher. Sit down. I want to talk over +a change I have in mind." + +Don felt his heart leap to his throat. + +"I've wanted for some time another man to go out and sell," said +Farnsworth. "Do you think you can handle it?" + +"You bet," exclaimed Don. + +Farnsworth smiled. + +"You see," ran on Don in explanation, "I've been selling bonds to +Sally--er--Mrs. Pendleton, for a month or more now." + +"Selling her?" + +"Imaginary bonds, you know." + +Farnsworth threw back his head and laughed. + +"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." + +"And cheap," nodded Don. + +"Well," said Farnsworth, "I want to try you on the selling staff for a +while, anyway. Now, about salary--" + +"Sally told me to forget that," said Don. + +"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?" + +"Absolutely." + +"Then we're off," concluded Farnsworth. + +Don met Sally at noon at the dairy lunch where they had gone so +often. + +"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." + +"Don!" + +"On a five-hundred-dollar raise." + +"We'll stay right here," she said; "but I'm going to celebrate by +having two chocolate éclairs." + + + + +CHAPTER XXXV + +"HOME, JOHN" + + +In December of the following year Frances came into her mother's room +one afternoon, drawing on her gloves. + +"Your new gown is very pretty," her mother said. "Where are you +calling?" + +"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." + +"You really ought to go." + +Frances became petulant. "Oh, I know it, but--after all, a baby +_isn't_ interesting." + +"They say it's a pretty baby. It's a boy, isn't it?" + +"I don't know. Why don't you come along with me?" + +"I'm not dressed, dear, but please to extend my congratulations." + +"Yes, mother." + +As John started to close the door of the limousine, Frances glanced at +her watch. + +"I wish to call at Mr. Pendleton's, but I must be at the Warrens' at +four promptly. How much time must I allow?" + +"A half hour, Miss." + +"Very well, John." + +Nora took her card, and came back with the request that she follow +upstairs. "The baby's just waked up," Nora said. + +Frances was disappointed. If she had to see a baby, she preferred, on +the whole, seeing it asleep. + +Mrs. Pendleton came to the nursery door with the baby in her arms--or +rather a bundle presumably containing a baby. + +"It's good of you to come," she smiled. "I think he must have waked up +just to see you." + +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. + +"You're sure it's convenient for me to stay?" questioned Frances +uneasily. + +"Quite," answered Mrs. Pendleton. "I--I want you to see him when he's +good-natured." + +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. + +"He has his father's eyes," said the mother. + +"There's no doubt of that," exclaimed Frances. + +"And his nose--well, he hasn't much of any nose yet," she smiled. + +"He seems very small--all over." + +"He weighed ten pounds this morning," said the mother. + +Don, Jr., was waving his arms about, rather feebly, but with +determination. + +"He is very strong," the mother informed her. "Don declares that he +has all the earmarks of a football player." + +It seemed odd to hear this other speak so 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. + +"Would you like to hold him a minute?" asked Mrs. Pendleton. + +Frances felt her breath coming fast. + +"I'm afraid I'd be clumsy." + +"Hold out your arms and I'll put him in them." + +Frances held out her arms, and Mrs. Pendleton gently laid the baby +across them. + +"Now hold him up to you," she said. + +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. + +"He wants to come back now," said the mother as she took him. + +"Good-bye," whispered Frances. "I may come again?" + +"Come often," smiled Mrs. Pendleton. + +Frances tiptoed from the room, and tiptoed all the way downstairs and +through the hall. + +As she stepped into the limousine, she said to John: "Home, please." + +"But you said you must be at the Warrens' at four," John respectfully +reminded her. + +She sank back wearily in the seat. + +"Home, John, please," she repeated. + +THE END + + + + +ZANE GREY'S NOVELS + +May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset & Dunlap's list + +THE LIGHT OF WESTERN STARS + +A New York society girl buys a ranch which becomes the center of frontier +warfare. Her loyal superintendent rescues her when she is captured by +bandits. A surprising climax brings the story to a delightful close. + +THE RAINBOW TRAIL + +The story of a young clergyman who becomes a wanderer in the great western +uplands--until at last love and faith awake. + +DESERT GOLD + +The story describes the recent uprising along the border, and ends with +the finding of the gold which two prospectors had willed to the girl who +is the story's heroine. + +RIDERS OF THE PURPLE SAGE + +A picturesque romance of Utah of some forty years ago when Mormon +authority ruled. The prosecution of Jane Withersteen is the theme of the +story. + +THE LAST OF THE PLAINSMEN + +This is the record of a trip which the author took with Buffalo Jones, +known as the preserver of the American bison, across the Arizona desert +and of a hunt in "that wonderful country of deep canons and giant +pines." + +THE HERITAGE OF THE DESERT + +A lovely girl, who has been reared among Mormons, learns to love a young +New Englander. The Mormon religion, however, demands that the girl shall +become the second wife of one of the Mormons--Well, that's the problem of +this great story. + +THE SHORT STOP + +The young hero, tiring of his factory grind, starts out to win fame and +fortune as a professional ball player. His hard knocks at the start are +followed by such success as clean sportsmanship, courage and honesty ought +to win. + +BETTY ZANE + +This story tells of the bravery and heroism of Betty, the beautiful young +sister of old Colonel Zane, one of the bravest pioneers. + +THE LONE STAR RANGER + +After killing a man in self defense, Buck Duane becomes an outlaw along +the Texas border. In a camp on the Mexican side of the river, he finds a +young girl held prisoner, and in attempting to rescue her, brings down +upon himself the wrath of her captors and henceforth is hunted on one side +by honest men, on the other by outlaws. + +THE BORDER LEGION + +Joan Randle, in a spirit of anger, sent Jim Cleve out to a lawless Western +mining camp, to prove his mettle. Then realizing that she loved him--she +followed him out. On her way, she is captured by a bandit band, and +trouble begins when she shoots Kells, the leader--and nurses him to health +again. Here enters another romance--when Joan, disguised as an outlaw, +observes Jim, in the throes of dissipation. A gold strike, a thrilling +robbery--gambling and gun play carry you along breathlessly. + +THE LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS, + +By Helen Cody Wetmore and Zane Grey + +The life story of Colonel William F. Cody, "Buffalo Bill," as told by his +sister and Zane Grey. It begins with his boyhood in Iowa and his first +encounter with an Indian. We see "Bill" as a pony express rider, then near +Fort Sumter as Chief of the Scouts, and later engaged in the most +dangerous Indian campaigns. There is also a very interesting account of +the travels of "The Wild West" Show. No character in public life makes a +stronger appeal to the imagination of America than "Buffalo Bill" whose +daring and bravery made him famous. + +Grosset & Dunlap, Publishers, New York + + + + +KATHLEEN NORRIS' STORIES + +May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset & Dunlap's list. + +MOTHER. Illustrated by F. C. Yohn. + +This book has a fairy-story touch, counterbalanced by the sturdy reality +of struggle, sacrifice, and resulting peace and power of a mother's +experiences. + +SATURDAY'S CHILD. + +Frontispiece by F. Graham Cootes. + +Out on the Pacific coast a normal girl, obscure and lovely, makes a quest +for happiness. She passes through three stages--poverty, wealth and +service--and works out a creditable salvation. + +THE RICH MRS. BURGOYNE. + +Illustrated by Lucius H. Hitchcock. + +The story of a sensible woman who keeps within her means, refuses to be +swamped by social engagements, lives a normal human life of varied +interests, and has her own romance. + +THE STORY OF JULIA PAGE. + +Frontispiece by Allan Gilbert. + +How Julia Page, reared in rather unpromising surroundings, lifted herself +through sheer determination to a higher plane of life. + +THE HEART OF RACHAEL. + +Frontispiece by Charles E. Chambers. + +Rachael is called upon to solve many problems, and in working out these, +there is shown the beauty and strength of soul of one of fiction's most +appealing characters. + +Ask for Complete free list of G. & D. Popular Copyrighted Fiction + +Grosset & Dunlap, Publishers, New York + + + + +THE NOVELS OF MARY ROBERTS RINEHART + +May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset & Dunlap's list. + +"K." Illustrated. + +K. LeMoyne, famous surgeon, drops out of the world that has known him, and +goes to live in a little town where beautiful Sidney Page lives. She is in +training to become a nurse. The joys and troubles of their young love are +told with that keen and sympathetic appreciation which has made the author +famous. + +THE MAN IN LOWER TEN. + +Illustrated by Howard Chandler Christy. + +An absorbing detective story woven around the mysterious death of the "Man +in Lower Ten." The strongest elements of Mrs. Rinehart's success are found +in this book. + +WHEN A MAN MARRIES. + +Illustrated by Harrison Fisher and Mayo Bunker. + +A young artist, whose wife had recently divorced him, finds that his aunt +is soon to visit him. The aunt, who contributes to the family income and +who has never seen the wife, knows nothing of the domestic upheaval. How +the young man met the situation is humorously and most entertainingly +told. + +THE CIRCULAR STAIRCASE. Illus. by Lester Ralph. + +The summer occupants of "Sunnyside" find the dead body of Arnold +Armstrong, the son of the owner, on the circular staircase. Following the +murder a bank failure is announced. Around these two events is woven a +plot of absorbing interest. + +THE STREET OF SEVEN STARS. + +Illustrated (Photo Play Edition.) + +Harmony Wells, studying in Vienna to be a great violinist, suddenly +realizes that her money is almost gone. She meets a young ambitious doctor +who offers her chivalry and sympathy, and together with world-worn Dr. +Anna and Jimmie, the waif, they share their love and slender means. + +Grosset & Dunlap, Publishers, New York +STORIES OF RARE CHARM BY GENE STRATTON-PORTER + +May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset & Dunlap's list. + +MICHAEL O'HALLORAN, Illustrated by Frances Rogers. + +Michael is a quick-witted little Irish newsboy, living in Northern +Indiana. He adopts a deserted little girl, a cripple. He also assumes the +responsibility of leading the entire rural community upward and onward. + +LADDIE. Illustrated by Herman Pfeifer. + +This is a bright, cheery tale with the scenes laid in Indiana. The story +is told by Little Sister, the youngest member of a large family, but it is +concerned not so much with childish doings as with the love affairs of +older members of the family. Chief among them is that of Laddie and the +Princess, an English girl who has come to live in the neighborhood and +about whose family there hangs a mystery. + +THE HARVESTER. Illustrated by W. L. Jacobs. + +"The Harvester," is a man of the woods and fields, and if the book had +nothing in it but the splendid figure of this man it would be notable. But +when the Girl comes to his "Medicine Woods," there begins a romance of the +rarest idyllic quality. + +FRECKLES. Illustrated. + +Freckles is a nameless waif when the tale opens, but the way in which he +takes hold of life; the nature friendships he forms in the great +Limberlost Swamp; the manner in which everyone who meets him succumbs to +the charm of his engaging personality; and his love story with "The Angel" +are full of real sentiment. + +A GIRL OF THE LIMBERLOST. Illustrated. + +The story of a girl of the Michigan woods; a buoyant, loveable type of the +self-reliant American. Her philosophy is one of love and kindness towards +all things; her hope is never dimmed. And by the sheer beauty of her soul, +and the purity of her vision, she wins from barren and unpromising +surroundings those rewards of high courage. + +AT THE FOOT OF THE RAINBOW. Illustrations in colors. + +The scene of this charming love story is laid in Central Indiana. The +story is one of devoted friendship, and tender self-sacrificing love. The +novel is brimful of the most beautiful word painting of nature, and its +pathos and tender sentiment will endear it to all. + +THE SONG OF THE CARDINAL. Profusely illustrated. + +A love ideal of the Cardinal bird and his mate, told with delicacy and +humor. + +Grosset & Dunlap, Publishers, New York + + + + +MYRTLE REED'S NOVELS + +May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset and Dunlap's list. + +LAVENDER AND OLD LACE. + +A charming story of a quaint corner of New England, where bygone romance +finds a modern parallel. The story centers round the coming of love to the +young people on the staff of a newspaper--and it is one of the prettiest, +sweetest and quaintest of old-fashioned love stories. + +MASTER OF THE VINEYARD. + +A pathetic love story of a young girl, Rosemary. The teacher of the +country school, who is also master of the vineyard, comes to know her +through her desire for books. She is happy in his love till another woman +comes into his life. But happiness and emancipation from her many trials +come to Rosemary at last. The book has a touch of humor and pathos that +will appeal to every reader. + +OLD ROSE AND SILVER. + +A love story,--sentimental and humorous,--with the plot subordinate to the +character delineation of its quaint people and to the exquisite +descriptions of picturesque spots and of lovely, old, rare treasures. + +A WEAVER OF DREAMS. + +This story tells of the love affairs of three young people, with an +old-fashioned romance in the background. A tiny dog plays an important +role in serving as a foil for the heroine's talking ingeniousness. There +is poetry, as well as tenderness and charm, in this tale of a weaver of +dreams. + +A SPINNER IN THE SUN. + +An old-fashioned love story, of a veiled lady who lives in solitude and +whose features her neighbors have never seen. There is a mystery at the +heart of the book that throws over it the glamour of romance. + +THE MASTER'S VIOLIN. + +A love story in a musical atmosphere. A picturesque, old German virtuoso +consents to take for his pupil a handsome youth who proves to have an +aptitude for technique, but not the soul of an artist. The youth cannot +express the love, the passion and the tragedies of life as can the master. +But a girl comes into his life, and through his passionate love for her, +he learns the lessons that life has to give--and his soul awakes. + +Grosset & Dunlap, Publishers, New York + + + + +BOOTH TARKINGTON'S NOVELS + +May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset & Dunlap's list. + +SEVENTEEN. Illustrated by Arthur William Brown. + +No one but the creator of Penrod could have portrayed the immortal young +people of this story. Its humor is irresistible and reminiscent of the +time when the reader was Seventeen. + +PENROD. Illustrated by Gordon Grant. + +This is a picture of a boy's heart, full of the lovable, humorous, tragic +things which are locked secrets to most older folks. It is a finished, +exquisite work. + +PENROD AND SAM. Illustrated by Worth Brehm. + +Like "Penrod" and "Seventeen," this book contains some remarkable phases +of real boyhood and some of the best stories of juvenile prankishness that +have ever been written. + +THE TURMOIL. Illustrated by C. E. Chambers. + +Bibbs Sheridan is a dreamy, imaginative youth, who revolts against his +father's plans for him to be a servitor of big business. The love of a +fine girl turns Bibb's life from failure to success. + +THE GENTLEMAN FROM INDIANA. Frontispiece. + +A story of love and politics,--more especially a picture of a country +editor's life in Indiana, but the charm of the book lies in the love +interest. + +THE FLIRT. Illustrated by Clarence F. Underwood. + +The "Flirt," the younger of two sisters, breaks one girl's engagement, +drives one man to suicide, causes the murder of another, leads another to +lose his fortune, and in the end marries a stupid and unpromising suitor, +leaving the really worthy one to marry her sister. + +Ask for Complete free list of G. & D. Popular Copyrighted Fiction + +Grosset & Dunlap, Publishers, New York + + + + +SEWELL FORD'S STORIES + +May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset & Dunlap's list. + +SHORTY McCABE. Illustrated by Francis Vaux Wilson. + +A very humorous story. The hero, an independent and vigorous thinker, sees +life, and tells about it in a very unconventional way. + +SIDE-STEPPING WITH SHORTY. + +Illustrated by Francis Vaux Wilson. + +Twenty skits, presenting people with their foibles. Sympathy with human +nature and an abounding sense of humor are the requisites for +"side-stepping with Shorty." + +SHORTY McCABE ON THE JOB. + +Illustrated by Francis Vaux Wilson. + +Shorty McCabe reappears with his figures of speech revamped right up to +the minute. He aids in the right distribution of a "conscience fund," and +gives joy to all concerned. + +SHORTY McCABE'S ODD NUMBERS. + +Illustrated by Francis Vaux Wilson. + +These further chronicles of Shorty McCabe tell of his studio for physical +culture, and of his experiences both on the East side and at swell +yachting parties. + +TORCHY. Illus. by Geo. Biehm and Jas. Montgomery Flagg. + +A red-headed office boy, overflowing with wit and wisdom peculiar to the +youths reared on the sidewalks of New York, tells the story of his +experiences. + +TRYING OUT TORCHY. Illustrated by F. Foster Lincoln. + +Torchy is just as deliriously funny in these stories as he was in the +previous book. + +ON WITH TORCHY. Illustrated by F. Foster Lincoln. + +Torchy falls desperately in love with "the only girl that ever was," but +that young society woman's aunt tries to keep the young people apart, +which brings about many hilariously funny situations. + +TORCHY, PRIVATE SEC. Illustrated by F. Foster Lincoln. + +Torchy rises from the position of office boy to that of secretary for the +Corrugated Iron Company. The story is full of humor and infectious +American slang. + +WILT THOU TORCHY. Illus. by F. Snapp and A. W. Brown. + +Torchy goes on a treasure search expedition to the Florida West Coast, in +company with a group of friends of the Corrugated Trust and with his +friend's aunt, on which trip Torchy wins the aunt's permission to place an +engagement ring on Vee's finger. + +Grosset & Dunlap, Publishers, New York + + + + +JACK LONDON'S NOVELS + +May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset & Dunlap's list. + +JOHN BARLEYCORN. Illustrated by H. T. Dunn. + +This remarkable book is a record of the author's own amazing experiences. +This big, brawny world rover, who has been acquainted with alcohol from +boyhood, comes out boldly against John Barleycorn. It is a string of +exciting adventures, yet it forcefully conveys an unforgettable idea and +makes a typical Jack London book. + +THE VALLEY OF THE MOON. Frontispiece by George Harper. + +The story opens in the city slums where Billy Roberts, teamster and +ex-prize fighter, and Saxon Brown, laundry worker, meet and love and +marry. They tramp from one end of California to the other, and in the +Valley of the Moon find the farm paradise that is to be their salvation. + +BURNING DAYLIGHT. Four illustrations. + +The story of an adventurer who went to Alaska and laid the foundations of +his fortune before the gold hunters arrived. Bringing his fortunes to the +States he is cheated out of it by a crowd of money kings, and recovers it +only at the muzzle of his gun. He then starts out as a merciless exploiter +on his own account. Finally he takes to drinking and becomes a picture of +degeneration. About this time he falls in love with his stenographer and +wins her heart but not her hand and then--but read the story! + +A SON OF THE SUN. Illustrated by A. O. Fischer and C. W. Ashley. + +David Grief was once a light-haired, blue-eyed youth who came from England +to the South Seas in search of adventure. Tanned like a native and as +lithe as a tiger, he became a real son of the sun. The life appealed to +him and he remained and became very wealthy. + +THE CALL OF THE WILD. Illustrations by Philip R. Goodwin and Charles +Livingston Bull. Decorations by Charles E. Hooper. + +A book of dog adventures as exciting as any man's exploits could be. Here +is excitement to stir the blood and here is picturesque color to transport +the reader to primitive scenes. + +THE SEA WOLF. Illustrated by W. J. Aylward. + +Told by a man whom Fate suddenly swings from his fastidious life into the +power of the brutal captain of a sealing schooner. A novel of adventure +warmed by a beautiful love episode that every reader will hail with +delight. + +WHITE FANG. Illustrated by Charles Livingston Bull. + +"White Fang" is part dog, part wolf and all brute, living in the frozen +north; he gradually comes under the spell of man's companionship, and +surrenders all at the last in a fight with a bull dog. Thereafter he is +man's loving slave. + +Grosset & Dunlap, Publishers, New York + + + + + +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 29654-8.txt or 29654-8.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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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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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: ASCII + +*** 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 + + + + + + + + + +Transcriber's Note: + +The underscore character "_" is used in this book to indicate italics +markup in the original, as in "Then he _must_ hold on." The only +exception to this is where it is used to indicate a subscript, +specifically in H_20 and CO_2, the common chemical formulas for water +and carbon dioxide referenced in the text. + + + + +[Illustration: "DON DEAR, YOU'RE LIVING TOO MUCH DOWNTOWN"] + + + + +THE WALL STREET GIRL + +BY + +FREDERICK ORIN BARTLETT + +WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY + +GEORGE ELLIS WOLFE + +NEW YORK + +GROSSET & DUNLAP + +PUBLISHERS + + + + +COPYRIGHT, 1915 AND 1916, BY EVERY WEEK CORPORATION + +COPYRIGHT, 1916, BY FREDERICK ORIN BARTLETT + +ALL RIGHTS RESERVED + +Published September 1916 + + + + +TO + +THALIA + + + + +CONTENTS + + I. Don Receives a Jolt 1 + II. It Becomes Necessary to Eat 11 + III. The Queen Was in the Parlor 20 + IV. Concerning Sandwiches 27 + V. Business 43 + VI. Two Girls 64 + VII. Roses 71 + VIII. A Man of Affairs 80 + IX. It Will Never Do 93 + X. Dictation 100 + XI. Steak, With Mushrooms and Advice 111 + XII. A Social Widow 123 + XIII. Dear Sir-- 129 + XIV. In Reply 138 + XV. Cost 144 + XVI. A Memorandum 153 + XVII. On the Way Home 161 + XVIII. A Discourse on Salaries 171 + XIX. A Letter 184 + XX. Stars 185 + XXI. In the Dark 193 + XXII. The Sensible Thing 200 + XXIII. Looking Ahead 207 + XXIV. Vacations 215 + XXV. In the Park 223 + XXVI. One Stuyvesant 238 + XXVII. The Stars Again 247 + XXVIII. Seeing 256 + XXIX. Mostly Sally 264 + XXX. Don Explains 275 + XXXI. Sally Decides 295 + XXXII. Barton Appears 305 + XXXIII. A Bully World 317 + XXXIV. Don Makes Good 321 + XXXV. "Home, John" 330 + + + + +THE WALL STREET GIRL + + + + +CHAPTER I + +DON RECEIVES A JOLT + + +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 large, the nose so sharp, or the +eyes so keen. On the other hand, there was a certain fineness that the +father had lacked. + +In height Don fairly matched his father's six feet, although he still +lacked the Pendleton breadth of shoulder. + +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 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. + +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. + +"Your father's will is dated three years ago last June," began +Barton. + +"At the end of my freshman year," Don observed. + +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: + +"New York City, borough of Manhattan, State of New York. I, Donald +Joshua Pendleton, being of sound mind and--" + +Donald Pendleton, Jr., waved an objection with his cigarette. + +"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." + +"It is customary--" began the attorney. + +"Well, we'll break the custom," Don cut in sharply. + +Barton glanced up. It might have been his late client speaking; it +gave him a start. + +"As you wish," he assented. "Perhaps, however, I may be allowed to +observe that in many ways your father's will is peculiar." + +"It wouldn't be father's will if it wasn't peculiar," declared Don. + +Barton pushed the papers away from him. + +"Briefly, then," he said, "your father leaves his entire estate to +you--in trust." + +Don leaned forward, his stick grasped in his gloved hands. + +"I don't get that last." + +"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." + +"You mean to fix my allowance?" + +"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." + +Don frowned. + +"Paternal domicile--I can translate that all right. I suppose you mean +the house. But what's that line 'without power of conveyance'?" + +"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." + +Don appeared puzzled. + +"That's a bit queer. What do you suppose Dad thought I wanted of a +place that size to live in?" + +"I think your father was a man of considerable sentiment." + +"Eh?" + +"Sentiment," Barton repeated. "It was there you were born, and there +your mother died." + +"Yes, that's all correct; but--well, go on." + +"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." + +"Well, go on." + +"In case of your demise--" + +"You may skip my demise; I'm not especially interested in that." + +"Then I think we have covered all the more important provisions," +Barton concluded. + +"All?" exclaimed Don. "What do you think I'm going to live on?" + +Here was the clash for which Barton had been waiting. His face +hardened, and he shoved back his chair a little. + +"I am not able to find any provision in the will relating to that," he +answered. + +"Eh? But what the deuce--" + +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. + +"You said Dad had considerable sentiment," he observed. "It strikes me +he has shown more humor than sentiment." + +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. + +"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." + +If the boy wished to test the issue, Barton was ready for him. But the +boy's thoughts seemed to be on other things. + +"I suppose," mused Pendleton, Jr., "I suppose it was that freshman +scrape that worried him." + +"I was not informed of that," replied Barton. + +"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." + +"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." + +Don nodded pleasantly. + +"The last. Kind of looks as if he wanted me to remain the last." + +"On the contrary," ventured Barton, "I think he hoped you might marry +and--" + +"Marry?" broke in Don. "Did you say _marry?_" + +"I even understood, from a conversation with your father just before +his death, that you--er--were even then engaged. Am I mistaken?" + +"No; that's true enough. But say--look here." + +The young man reached in his pocket and brought forth a handful of +crumpled bills and loose change. He counted it carefully. + +"Twelve dollars and sixty-three cents," he announced. "What do you +think Frances Stuyvesant will say to that?" + +Barton refrained from advancing an opinion. + +"What do you think Morton H. Stuyvesant will say?" demanded Don. + +No point of law being involved in the query, Jonas Barton still +refrained. + +"What do you think Mrs. Morton H. Stuyvesant will say, and all the +uncles and aunties and nephews and nieces?" + +"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." + +"What?" inquired Don. + +"He would place all the facts in the case before the girl, then +before her father, and learn just what they had to say." + +"Wrong. He wouldn't go beyond the girl," answered Don. + +He replaced the change in his pocket. + +"Ah," he sighed--"them were the happy days." + +"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." + +"Yes, them were the happy days," nodded Don. "But, at that, Dad had +his nerve with him." + +"He did," answered Barton. "He had his nerve with him always." + + + + +CHAPTER II + +IT BECOMES NECESSARY TO EAT + + +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. + +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 cafes and hotels,--and all +that he was asked to contribute was an appetite. + +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 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 _the dansant_, +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. + +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 him as significant, because, as it +happened, his wants were for the moment fully satisfied. + +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. + +Nora opened the door for him, as she had for twenty years. + +"Are you to be here for dinner, sir?" she inquired. + +"No, Nora," he answered; "I shall dine out to-night." + +Nora appeared uneasy. + +"The cook, sir, has received a letter--a very queer sort of letter, +sir--from a lawyer gentleman." + +"Eh?" + +"He said she was to keep two accounts, sir: one for the servants' +table and one for the house." + +"Oh, that's probably from old Barton." + +"Barton--yes, sir, that was the name. Shall I bring you the letter, +sir?" + +"Don't bother, Nora. It's all right. He's my new bookkeeper." + +"Very well, sir. Then you'll give orders for what you want?" + +"Yes, Nora." + +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. + +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. + +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, +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. + +"Hello, Jimmy," Don greeted him. + +"Hello, Don. You came in the nick of time. Lend me ten, will you?" + +"Sure," answered Don. + +He sought his bill-book. It was empty. For a moment he was confused. + +"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?" + +Harndon hurried off to the telephone. + +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 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. + +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. + +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 +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +"Look here," he began. "It seems to me there must be some misunderstanding +somewhere. Do you realize that I'm stony broke?" + +"Why, no," answered Barton. "I thought you showed me the matter of +thirteen dollars or so." + +"I did; but that's gone, and all I have now is the matter of thirteen +cents or so." + +"I'm sorry," answered Barton. "If a small loan would be of any +temporary advantage--" + +"Hang it!" cut in Don. "You don't think I'm trying to borrow, do +you?" + +"I beg your pardon. Perhaps you will tell me, then, just what you do +wish." + +"I must eat, mustn't I?" + +"I consider that a fair presumption." + +"Then what the deuce!" + +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. + +"I say, what the deuce?" + +"I don't understand." + +"What am I going to do?" + +"Oh, I see. You mean, I take it, what must you do in order to provide +yourself with funds." + +"Exactly," growled Don. + +"Of course, the usual method is to work," suggested Barton. + +"Eh?" + +"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." + +"Think it over!" exclaimed Don. "How long do you think I can think on +thirteen cents?" + +"If you authorize me to act for you, I have no doubt something can be +arranged." + +"You seem to hold all the cards." + +"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?" + +"I'll do anything except sell books," Don answered promptly. + +"Very well," concluded Barton. "I'll advise you by mail as soon as +anything develops." + +"Thanks." + +"In the mean while, if you will accept a loan--" + +"Thanks again," answered Don; "but I'll go hungry first." He hung up +the receiver and went back to the lounge. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +THE QUEEN WAS IN THE PARLOR + + +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. + +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 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. + +"I met Reggie Howland at the tea this afternoon," said Frances. "He +was very nice to me." + +"Why shouldn't he be?" inquired Don. + +"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 fiancee." + +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. + +"You're right," he nodded; "but I was all tied up with business this +afternoon." + +She raised her dark brows a trifle. + +"Business?" + +"Lots of it," he nodded. "Come over here and sit down; I want to tell +you about it." + +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 +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. + +"It seems," he began--"it seems that Dad would have his little joke +before he died." + +"Yes?" she responded indifferently. She was bored by business of any +sort. + +"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." + +"Yes, Don." + +She did not quite understand why he was going into details. They did +not seem to concern her, even as his fiancee. + +"Of that patrimony I now have thirteen cents left," Don continued. +"See, here it is." + +He removed from his pocket two nickels and three coppers. + +"It doesn't look like much, does it?" + +"Oh, Don," she laughed, "do be serious!" + +"I am serious," he assured her. "I've been serious ever since I went +to Sherry's for lunch, and found I did not have enough for even a +club sandwich." + +"But, Don!" she gasped. + +"It's a fact. I had to leave." + +"Then where _did_ you lunch?" + +"I didn't lunch." + +"You mean you did not have enough change to buy something to eat?" + +"I had thirteen cents. You can't buy anything with that, can you?" + +"I--I don't know." + +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. + +"But, Don--what are you going to do?" + +"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." + +"I don't understand, Don." + +"I mean about our engagement." + +She looked puzzled. + +"I'm afraid I'm very stupid." + +"We can't be married on thirteen cents, can we?" + +"But we needn't be married until you have more, need we?" + +"That's so. And you're willing to wait?" + +"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." + +"We can't be engaged all our lives," he protested. + +"We can be engaged as long as we wish, can't we?" + +"I want to marry you as soon as I can." + +Her eyes brightened and she placed a soft hand upon his arm. + +"That's nice of you, Don," she said. "But you don't know what a +frightfully expensive burden I'll be as a wife." + +"If I earned, to start with, say fifty dollars a week--would you marry +me on that?" + +"If I did, what would we live on?" she inquired. + +"Well, I have the house. That's provided for--all except the table." + +"But if I spent the fifty dollars for a new hat, then what would we +have left for provisions?" + +"You mustn't spend it all on a new hat," he warned. + +"Then, there are gowns and--oh, lots of things you don't know anything +about." + +"Couldn't you get along with a little less?" + +She thought a moment. + +"I don't see how," she decided. "I never get anything I don't want." + +"That's something," he nodded approvingly. "Then you think I must earn +more than fifty a week?" + +"I only know that Dad gives me an allowance of ten thousand a year, +and there's never anything left," she answered. + +"Ten thousand a year!" he exclaimed. + +"Everything is so expensive to-day, Don. All this talk sounds +frightfully vulgar, but--there's no use pretending, is there?" + +"Not a bit," he answered. "If ten thousand a year is what you need, +ten thousand a year is what I must earn." + +"I don't believe it's very hard, because Dad does it so easily," she +declared. + +"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." + +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. + +"I'll get it for you," he said soberly. + +"Oh, Don!" she whispered. "Sometimes nothing seems important but just +you." + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +CONCERNING SANDWICHES + + +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. + +"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?" + +"It is at least twelve hundred more than you have now," suggested +Barton. + +"But how can I live on it?" + +"You must remember you have the house--" + +"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." + +"I have no doubt but that, in time, a man of your ability--" + +"How long a time?" + +"As to that I am not prepared to give an opinion," replied Barton. + +"Because it isn't when I'm eighty that I want it." + +"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--" + +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. + +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. + +"Join me?" he asked, waving a greeting with the morning paper. + +"Thanks," answered Don. "Guess I'll wait a bit." + +Watson went on. + +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 and vice-presidents with unlimited bank +accounts. Considering these facts, Don grew decidedly optimistic. + +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. + +"What's the matter, Don--off your feed?" he inquired casually. + +"Something of the sort," nodded Don. + +"Party last night?" + +"No; guess I haven't been getting exercise enough." + +He rose. Somehow, Watson bored him this morning. + +"I'm going to take a hike down the Avenue. S'long." + +Don secured his hat, gloves, and stick, and started from the club at a +brisk clip. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +At last he reached the address that Barton had given him. "Carter, +Rand & Seagraves, Investment Securities," read the inscription on the +window. He passed through the revolving doors and entered the office. + +A boy in buttons approached and took his card. + +"Mr. Carter, Mr. Rand, or Mr. Seagraves," said Don. + +The boy was soon back. + +"Mr. Farnsworth will see you in a few minutes," he reported. + +"Farnsworth?" inquired Don. + +"He's the gent what sees every one," explained the boy. "Ticker's over +there." + +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_2O and CO_2, and +he amused himself by watching to see if they turned up. + +"Mr. Pendleton?" + +Don turned to find a middle-aged gentleman standing before him with +outstretched hand. + +"Mr. Barton wrote to us about you," Farnsworth continued briskly. "I +believe he said you had no business experience." + +"No," admitted Don. + +"Harvard man?" + +Don named his class. + +"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." + +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. + +"Thanks," he replied. "When shall I begin?" + +"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." + +"All right," assented Don. + +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. + +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 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. + +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. + +Miss Winthrop paused to readjust a pin and the angle of her hat. Then +she took a swift glance about the office. + +"I guess the boys must have gone," she said to Don. "This is the lunch +hour." + +Don rose. + +"Thank you for letting me know," he replied cordially. + +"Most of them get back at one," she informed him. + +"Then you think I may go out until then?" + +"I don't see why not. But I'd be back at one sharp if I were you." + +"Thanks, I will." + +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. + +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 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 +eclair. She looked up as he sat down, and frowned. Don rose at once. + +"I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't know you were here. Honest I didn't." + +"Well, it's a public lunch, isn't it?" she inquired. "I'm almost +through." + +"Then you don't mind if I stay?" + +"It's no business of mine," she said curtly. + +"But I don't want you to think I--I'm intruding." + +She glanced at him again. + +"Let's forget it," she decided. "But you might sit there all day and +you wouldn't get anything to eat." + +He looked around, uncertain as to just what she meant. + +"You go to the counter, pick out what you want, and bring it back +here," she explained. "I'll hold your seat for you." + +Don made his way into the crowd at the rear. At the counter he found +he had for ten cents a wide choice; but her eclair 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 eclair through safely. He +deposited it on the arm of the chair and sat down. In spite of his +utmost effort at self-control, that eclair 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. + +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. + +"That all you're going to eat?" she demanded. + +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 for much in the middle of the day +seemed scarcely worth while. + +"Yes," he answered. + +"Broke?" she inquired. + +He nodded. + +"Then you ought to have had an egg sandwich instead of one of those +things," she informed him. + +"But the one you had looked so good," he smiled. + +"I had an egg sandwich to start with; this was dessert." + +"I didn't know," he apologized. + +"You ought to get one now. You won't last until night on just that." + +"How much are they?" he inquired. + +"A nickel." + +"Then I guess I won't have one." + +"Haven't you five cents?" she cross-examined. + +"Only three cents," he answered. + +"And you begin work to-day?" + +"Yes." + +"It's only Tuesday, and you won't get paid until Saturday." + +"So?" + +"Do you expect to make that eclair go until then?" + +"I hadn't thought much about it," he answered uneasily. + +"You don't look as if you would," she said. "You are new to this, +aren't you?" + +"Yes." + +He did not resent her questioning; and it did not occur to him to give +her an evasive reply. + +"Just out of college?" + +"Last fall." + +"What you been doing since then?" + +"Why, nothing," he admitted. "You see, my father died only last month, +and--" + +"Oh, I see," she said more gently. "That's hard luck." + +"It makes a good deal of a difference," he said. + +"I know." + +It had made a difference in her life when her father died. + +She turned to her eclair; but, as she was raising the fork to her +lips, she caught his eyes and put it down again. + +"Look here," she said; "you must eat something. You can't get along +without food. I've tried it." + +"You!" he exclaimed. + +"Indeed, yes." + +"Dieting?" + +"Hardly," she replied grimly. + +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. + +"You mean that you've gone broke, too?" + +"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 _you're_ going to do +until Saturday." + +"Oh, I'll worry along," he answered confidently. + +She shook her head. + +"Worry won't carry you along." + +She hesitated a moment, and then said impulsively:-- + +"Now, look here--don't get peeved at what I'm going to say, will +you?" + +"I don't believe it's possible to get peeved with you," he declared. + +She frowned. + +"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--" + +Don caught his breath. "You--" + +She did not give him time to finish. From somewhere she produced a +two-dollar bill and slipped it into his hand. + +"Take this and get an egg sandwich right now." + +"But look here--" + +"Don't talk. Go get a sandwich." + +He seemed to have no alternative; but when he came back with it she +had disappeared. + +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. + + + + +CHAPTER V + +BUSINESS + + +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. + +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. + +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 +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. + +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. + +"Believe me," she said, "they are not going to pay you for sitting +there and watching me." + +Don felt the color spring to his cheeks. + +"I beg your pardon," he apologized. + +"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." + +"But there doesn't seem to be anything around here for me to do." + +"Then make something," she concluded, as she moved away. + +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. + +"How you making it?" he inquired. + +"There doesn't seem to be much for me to do," said Don. "Can you +suggest anything?" + +"Farnsworth will dig up enough for you later on. I wouldn't worry +about that." + +"But I don't know anything about the game." + +"You'll pick it up. Did I understand Farnsworth to say you were +Harvard?" + +"Yes." + +"I'm Princeton. Say, what sort of a football team have you this +year?" + +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 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. + +"I'll bet you didn't get much out of him," observed Miss Winthrop, +without interrupting the click of her machine. + +"He seems rather a decent sort," answered Don. + +"Perhaps he is," she returned. + +"He's a Princeton man," Don informed her. + +"He's Percy A. Blake," she declared--as if that were a fact of +considerably more importance. + +He waited to see if she was ready to volunteer any further information, +but apparently she considered this sufficient. + +At that point Farnsworth came out and took a look about the office. +His eyes fell upon Don, and he crossed the room. + +He handed Don a package. + +"I wish you would deliver these to Mr. Hayden, of Hayden & Wigglesworth," +he requested. + +Farnsworth returned to his office, leaving Don staring helplessly at +the package in his hands. + +"For Heaven's sake, get busy!" exclaimed Miss Winthrop. + +"But where can I find Mr. Hayden?" inquired Don. + +"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." + +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. + +"Take me to the office of Hayden & Wigglesworth and there's a quarter +in it for you," he offered. + +"I'm on," nodded the boy. + +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. + +"Snappy work," Miss Winthrop complimented him. "The closing prices +must be out by now. You'd better look them over." + +"Closing prices of what?" he inquired. + +"The market, of course. Ask Eddie--the boy at the ticker. He'll give +you a sheet." + +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. + +"You may as well go now," Farnsworth said. "You'll be here at nine +to-morrow?" + +"Nine to-morrow," nodded Don. + +He returned to Miss Winthrop's desk. + +"He says I may go now," he reported. + +"Then I'd go," she advised. + +"But I--I want to thank you." + +"For Heaven's sake, don't!" she exploded. "I'm busy." + +"Good-night." + +"Good-night." + +He took the Subway back to the Grand Central, and walked from there to +the club. Here he found a message from Frances:-- + +Dad sent up a box for the theater to-night. Will you come to dinner +and go with us? + +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. + +He was full of this when, a few minutes before dinner, Frances swept +down the stairs. + +"I'm glad you could come, Don," she said. "But where in the world have +you been all day?" + +"Downtown," he answered. "I'm with Carter, Rand & Seagraves now." + +He made the announcement with considerable pride. + +"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." + +For a second he was disappointed--he had expected more enthusiasm from +her. + +"I haven't met the families of the firm yet," he answered. + +"I thought you knew Dolly. I'll ask her up for my next afternoon, to +meet you." + +"But I can't come in the afternoon, Frances." + +"How stupid! You're to be downtown all day?" + +"From nine to three or later." + +"I'm not sure I'm going to like that." + +"Then you'll have to speak to Farnsworth," he laughed. + +"Farnsworth?" + +"He's the manager." + +"I imagine he's very disagreeable. Oh, Don, please hurry and make your +fortune and have it over with!" + +"You ought to give me more than one day, anyhow." + +"I'll give you till June," she smiled. "I really got sort of homesick +for you to-day, Don." + +"Honest?" + +"Honest, Don. I've no business to tell you such a secret, but it's +true." + +"I'm glad you told me," he answered soberly. "What have you been doing +all day?" + +"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." + +"How much?" he inquired. + +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." + +"Tough luck," he sympathized. + +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. + +A singing team made their appearance and 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 eclair. 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. + +Frances turned, suppressing a yawn. + +"I suppose one of them will hang by his teeth in a minute," she +observed. "I wish he wouldn't. It makes me ache." + +"It is always possible to leave," he suggested. + +"But Mother so enjoys the pictures." + +"Then, by all means, let's stay." + +"They always put them at the end. Oh, dear me, I don't think I shall +ever come again." + +"I enjoyed the singing," he confessed. + +"Oh, Don, it was horrible!" + +"Still, that song about the restaurant in the alley--" + +"The _what?_" she exclaimed. + +"Wasn't it that or was it apple blossoms? Anyhow, it was good." + +"Of course there's no great difference between restaurants in alleys +and apple blossoms in Normandy!" she commented. + +"Not so much as you'd think," he smiled. + +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. + +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 were warning him not to +be late. He jumped from bed. + +But, even at that, it was a quarter-past eight before he came +downstairs. Nora was anxiously waiting for him. + +"You did not order breakfast, sir," she reminded him. + +"Why, that's so," he admitted. + +"Shall I prepare it for you now?" + +"Never mind. I haven't time to wait, anyway. You see, I must be +downtown at nine. I'm in business, Nora." + +"Yes, sir; but you should eat your breakfast, sir." + +He shook his head. "I think I'll try going without breakfast this +week. Besides, I didn't send up any provisions." + +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. + +"An egg and a bit of toast, sir? I'm sure the cook could spare that." + +"Out of her own breakfast?" + +"I--I beg your pardon, sir," stammered Nora; "but it's all part of the +house, isn't it?" + +"No," he answered firmly. "We must play the game fair, Nora." + +"And dinner, sir?" + +"Dinner? Let's not worry about that as early in the morning as this." + +He started to leave, but at the door turned again. + +"If you should want me during the day, you'll find me at my office +with Carter, Rand & Seagraves. Better write that down." + +"I will, sir." + +"Good-day, Nora." + +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. + +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. Miss +Winthrop, who was hard at work when he entered, paused a second to +glance at the watch pinned to her dress. + +"I'm only twenty minutes late," he apologized to her. + +"A good many things can happen around Wall Street in twenty minutes," +she answered. + +"I guess I'll have to leave the house a little earlier." + +"I'd do something to get here on time," she advised. "Out late last +night?" + +"Not very. I was in bed a little after one." + +"I thought so." + +"Why?" + +"You look it." + +She brought the conversation to an abrupt end by resuming her work. + +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. + +She, on the other hand, appeared fresher than she had yesterday at +noon. Her eyes were 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. + +"Mr. Pendleton." It was Eddie. "Mr. Farnsworth wants to see you in his +office." + +Farnsworth handed Don a collection of circulars describing some of the +securities the firm was offering. + +"Better familiarize yourself with these," he said briefly. "If there +is anything in them you don't understand, ask one of the other men." + +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 insignificance. On the whole, it was decidedly depressing +reading--the more so because he did not understand it. + +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. + +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. + +"Will you hold this for me?" he asked. + +"Better drop your hat in it," she suggested rather coldly. + +He obeyed the suggestion, and a minute later returned with a cup of +coffee and an egg sandwich. She was gazing indifferently across the +room as he sat down, but he called her attention to his lunch. + +"You see, I got one of these things to-day." + +"So?" + +"Do you eat it with a fork or pick it up in your fingers?" he asked. + +She turned involuntarily to see if he was serious. She could not tell, +but it was a fact he looked perplexed. + +"Oh, pick it up in your fingers," she exclaimed. "But look here; are +you coming here every day?" + +"Sure," he nodded. "Why not?" + +"Because, if you are, I'm going to find another place." + +"You--what?" he gasped. + +"I'm going to find another place." + +The sandwich was halfway to his lips. He put it down again. + +"What have I done?" he demanded. + +She was avoiding his eyes. + +"Oh, it isn't you," she answered. "But if the office ever found +out--" + +"Well," he insisted. + +"It would make a lot of talk, that's all," she concluded quickly. "I +can't afford it." + +"Whom would they talk about?" + +"Oh, they wouldn't talk about you--that's sure." + +"They would talk about you?" + +"They certainly would." + +"What would they say?" + +"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." + +"I don't see what that has to do with where you eat or where I eat." + +"It hasn't, as long as we don't eat at the same place. Can't you see +that?" + +She raised her eyes and met his. + +"I see now," he answered soberly. "They'll think I'm getting fresh +with you?" + +"They'll think I'm letting you get fresh," she answered, lowering her +eyes. + +"But you don't think that yourself?" + +"I don't know," she answered slowly. "I used to think I could tell; +but now--oh, I don't know!" + +"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--" + +"Those things aren't fit to eat when they're cold," she warned him. + +He shoved his plate aside and leaned toward her. "Do you think--" + +"No, no, no!" she exclaimed. "Only, it isn't what _I_ think that +matters." + +"That's the only thing in this case that does matter," he returned. + +"You wait until you know Blake," she answered. + +"Of course, if any one is to quit here, it is I," he said. + +"You'd better stay where you are," she answered. "I know a lot of +other places just like this." + +"Well, I can find them, can't I?" + +She laughed--a contagious little laugh. + +"I'm not so sure," she replied. + +"You don't think much of my ability, do you?" he returned, somewhat +nettled. + +She lifted her eyes at that. + +"If you want to know the truth," she said, "I do. And I've seen a lot +of 'em come and go." + +He reacted curiously to this unexpected praise. His color heightened +and unconsciously he squared his shoulders. + +"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 eclair to-day?" + +She nodded and started to rise. + +"Sit still; I'll get it for you." + +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. + +When he came back she slipped a nickel upon the arm of his chair. + +"What's this for?" he demanded. + +"For the eclair, of course." + +"You--you needn't have done that." + +"I'll pay my own way, thank you," she answered, her face hardening a +little. + +"Now you're offended again?" + +"No; only--oh, can't you see we--I must find another place?" + +"No, I don't," he answered. + +"Then that proves it," she replied. "And now I'm going back to the +office." + +He rose at once to go with her. + +"Please to sit right where you are for five minutes," she begged. + +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. + +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. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +TWO GIRLS + + +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 the very things in a man +she had learned to question. + +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. + +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 her hat +and coat and sat by the radiator to warm her hands. + +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. + +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. + +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 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. + +But, oddly enough, although there was no place for him, another seemed +to be with her in the room. + + * * * * * + +"Let me have your engagement-book a moment," Frances requested. + +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 +fiancee's. + +Frances puckered her brows. + +"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 debutante dance, you know." + +She wrote it in his book. + +"On Saturday we go to the opera. The Warringtons have asked us to a +box party." + +She wrote that. + +"Next Wednesday comes the Stanley cotillion. Have you received your +invitation?" + +"Haven't seen it," he answered. + +"The Stanleys are always unpardonably late, but I helped Elise make +out her list. On the following Friday we dine at the Westons'." + +She wrote that. + +"On the following Saturday I'm to give a box party at the opera--the +Moores and Warringtons." + +She added that, and looked over the list. + +"And I suppose, after going to this trouble, I'll have to remind you +all over again on the day of each event." + +"Oh, I don't know; but--" He hesitated. + +"Well?" she demanded. + +"Seems to me we are getting pretty gay, aren't we?" + +"Don't talk like an old man!" she scolded. "So far, this has been a +very stupid season." + +"But--" + +"Well?" + +"You know, now I'm in business--" + +"Please don't remind me of that any more than is necessary," she +interrupted. + +"Oh, all right; only, I do have to get up in the morning." + +"Why remind me of that? It's disagreeable enough having to think of it +even occasionally." + +"But I do, you know." + +"I know it, Don. Honestly I do." + +She seated herself on the arm of his chair, with an arm about his neck +and her cheek against his hair. + +"And I think it quite too bad," she assured him--"which is why I don't +like to talk about it." + +She sprang to her feet again. + +"Now, Don, you must practice with me some of the new steps. You'll get +very rusty if you don't." + +"I'd rather hear you sing," he ventured. + +"This is much more important," she replied. + +She placed a Maxixe record on the Victrola that stood by the piano; +then she held out her arms to him. + +"Poor old hard-working Don!" she laughed as he rose. + +It was true that it was as poor old hard-working 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. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +ROSES + + +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. + +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. + +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 Powers's desk and watch her at work. When he had +challenged her for a reason, she had blushed; then she had replied +simply:-- + +"It isn't business." + +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. + +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. + +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 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:-- + +"Out late again last night?" + +"Went to a dance," he nodded. + +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. + +"You didn't get enough sleep, then." + +"I should say not," Don admitted cheerfully. "In bed at four and up at +seven." + +"You look it." + +"And I feel it." + +"You can't keep that up long." + +"Sunday's coming, and I'm going to sleep all day," he declared. + +"But what's the use of getting into that condition?" she inquired. + +He thought a moment. + +"Well, I don't suppose a man can cut off everything just because he's +in business." + +"That's part of the business--at the beginning," she returned. + +"To work all the time?" + +"To work all the time," she nodded. "I wish I had your chance." + +"My chance to work?" he laughed. + +"Your chance to get ahead," she answered. "It's all so easy--for a +man!" + +"Easy?" + +"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." + +"I've read 'em. But, hang it all, they don't mean anything." + +"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 _don't_ know." + +"But last night--well, a man has to get around a little bit." + +"Around where?" she questioned him. + +"Among his friends. Doesn't he?" + +She hesitated. + +"It seems to me you'll have to choose between dances and business." + +"Eh?" + +She nodded. + +"Between dances and business. I tell you, this next six months is +going to count a lot on how you make good with Farnsworth." + +"Well, he isn't the only one," he said. + +"He's the only one in this office--I know what I'm talking about." + +"But outside the office--" + +She put down her fork. + +"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." + +She raised her own eyes and looked swiftly about the room as if she +half-expected to discover him here. + +"What's the matter?" he inquired. + +She did not answer his question, but as she ran on again she lowered +her voice:-- + +"You've been in his office to-day?" + +"He gave me some more circulars," Don admitted. + +"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." + +Don appeared worried. + +"He didn't say anything." + +"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." + +"You don't think he's getting ready to fire me?" he asked anxiously. + +"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--" + +She raised her eyes to his. She saw that Don's had grown less dull, +and her own warmed with this initial success. + +"You used to play football, didn't you?" she asked. + +"A little." + +"Then you ought to know something about doing things hard; and you +ought to know something about keeping in training." + +"But look here, it seems to me you take this mighty seriously." + +"Farnsworth does," she corrected. "That's why he's getting ten +thousand a year." + +The figures recalled a vivid episode. + +"Ten thousand a year," he repeated after her. "Is that what he +draws?" + +"That's what they say. Anyway, he's worth it." + +"And you think I--I might make a job like that?" + +"I'll bet I'd try for it if I were in your boots," she answered +earnestly. + +"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. + +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. + +"Your two dollars is in there," he explained. + +She looked perplexed. + +"Shall I wait five minutes?" + +"Yes," she answered, as he thrust the box into her hands. + +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. + +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. + +It was about as foolish a thing as she had ever known a man to do. + +She placed the flowers on the table when she had her supper. All night +long they filled the room with their fragrance. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +A MAN OF AFFAIRS + + +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. + +"Pick out what you need," he ordered, as he held the money toward +her. + +"I don't know how much it will be, sir. I'll ask the cook, sir." + +"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." + +Don ate his breakfast in the dining-room before the open fire, as his +father used to do. 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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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 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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +"Who is it, Nora?" + +"Miss Stuyvesant, sir." + +"Oh, yes." + +He hurried to the telephone. + +"Good-morning, Frances." + +"Dad and Mother have gone to church and it's very stupid here," she +complained. "Can't you come over?" + +He hesitated the fraction of a second. + +"Oh, of course,--if you don't want to,--" she began quickly. + +"It isn't that, Frances. Of course I want to come; only, there were +some papers I brought home from the office--" + +"Well?" + +"I can go over them some other time. I'll be right up." + + * * * * * + +A discovery that encouraged Don the following 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. + +"I know these sound like fool questions," Don apologized, "but I've +never been down in this end of the town much." + +"That's all right," replied Powers. "Come to me any time you're +stuck." + +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. + +_Mr. Pendleton:_ Say, old man, what is a gold bond, anyway? + +_Mr. Powers:_ I beg your pardon? + +And so on down to Don's final apology. + +_Mr. Pendleton:_ I know these sound like fool questions-- + +_Mr. Powers:_ That's all right-- + +"Read it over in your spare time," advised Miss Winthrop; "then you +won't ask him the same questions twice." + +"But how in thunder did you get this?" he inquired. + +"I wasn't busy just then, and took it down. I knew you'd forget half +he told you." + +"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." + +"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." + +"What sort of a salary does _he_ draw?" + +"I don't know," she answered. "And if I were you I'd forget the salary +end of my job for a while." + +"It's a mighty important end," he declared. + +"I don't see it," she returned frankly. "I suppose you're starting on +twenty-five?" + +"That's all," he admitted. + +"It's all you're worth. Any one to support besides yourself?" + +"No." + +"Then what you worrying about?" + +"But, good Heavens, a man can't live on that--any length of time." + +"Can't? I know men who support a wife and children on less." + +"Eh?" + +"And do it decently," she nodded. "I live on half of that myself." + +"You?" + +"Of course. Did you think I drew a salary like Farnsworth?" + +She laughed at his open astonishment. It appeared genuine. + +"You live on half of twenty-five dollars a week?" he repeated. + +She did not care to pursue the subject. It was a bit too personal. + +"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?" + +He took out his engagement-book on the spot and made an entry. + +"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. + +"Don't be silly," she warned. "You'd better write down something about +not worrying about your salary at all." + +"I'll do that," he returned. + +He took out his engagement-book again and scribbled a line. + +"Miss Winthrop says not to worry about my salary." + +[Illustration: "CAN'T? I KNOW MEN WHO SUPPORT A WIFE AND CHILDREN ON +LESS"] + +"I didn't say it," she protested. + +"Them's your very words." + +"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." + +He shook his head. "That's too deep for me." + +"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." + +"No need of getting peeved about it," he suggested. + +"Not in the slightest," she agreed. + +But she did not wait for her eclair, and went back to the office in +anything but a good humor. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +At a few minutes before five, just as Miss 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. + +"Sign here," the boy ordered. + +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. + +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. + +"From a devoted admirer?" inquired Blake, as she passed him. + +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 have struck the man with the greatest +satisfaction. It seemed the only adequate way of expressing himself. +Blake was still smiling. + +"Sort of caught her with the goods that time, eh?" observed Blake. + +"I don't get you," answered Don. + +"Candy by messenger? Well, I've been looking for it. And when those +haughty ones do fall, believe me, they fall hard." + +"Maybe," answered Don. "But I'll bet you five dollars to a quarter +you're wrong about her." + +Blake's eyes narrowed a trifle. + +"I'll take you," he answered. "What's your proof?" + +"I sent her that stuff myself." + +"You? Holy smoke, that's going some!" + +"I sent her that to pay for some typewriting she did for me and +because I knew she wouldn't take any money." + +"I lose. Come out and have a drink?" + +"Thanks," answered Don. "I'm on my way uptown. Give that quarter to +Eddie." + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +IT WILL NEVER DO + + +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. + +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. + +"What did you run away for?" he demanded. + +"What did you hunt me up for?" she replied. + +"Because I wanted to see you." + +"And I came here because I did _not_ want to see you." + +"Now, look here--" he began. + +"So I should think you'd go along and leave me alone," she interrupted. + +"If I did that, then I'd never know what the trouble is all about," he +explained. + +"Well, what of it?" + +"May I sit down?" + +There was an empty chair next to her. + +"I can't prevent you, but I've told you I want to be alone." + +"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." + +She gave a swift glance about the room, as if expecting to find half +the crowd looking at her. + +"Maybe they are too polite to let on," he continued; "but I know just +what they are 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.'" + +"You don't seem to care much, then, about what they say." + +"I don't care a hang," he admitted. + +She pushed her plate away as if ready to go. + +"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?" + +"I don't believe you'd know if I did tell you," she answered more +gently. + +"The least you can do is to try." + +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. + +"The least you can do is to give me a chance," he persisted. + +"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 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." + +"That was mighty white of you," he nodded. + +The color flashed into her cheeks. + +"I thought I could do that much without interfering in any other way +with either of our lives." + +"Well?" + +"There were two or three things I didn't reckon with," she answered. + +"What were they?" he demanded. + +"Blake is one of them." + +"Blake?" His face brightened with sudden understanding. "Then the +trouble is all about that box of candy?" + +"You shouldn't have sent it. You should have known better than to send +it. You--had no right." + +"But that was nothing. You were so darned good to me about the +typewriting and it was all I could think of." + +"So, you see," she concluded, "it won't do. It won't do at all." + +"I don't see," he returned. + +"Then it's because you didn't see the way Blake looked at me," she +said. + +"Yes, I saw," he answered. "I could have hit him for it. But I fixed +that." + +"You--fixed that?" she gasped. + +"I certainly did. I told him I sent the box, and told him why." + +"Oh!" she exclaimed. "Then they'll all know, and--what am I going to +do? Oh, what am I going to do?" + +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. + +"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--" + +She raised her head. + +"If he does, there isn't anything you can do about it." + +"I'll bet there is." + +"No--no--_no_. 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." + +He grew serious. + +"It seems too bad if it's got to be that way," he answered. + +"I ought to have known," she said. + +"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." + +She raised her eyes to his a moment. Then a queer, tender expression +softened her mouth. + +"This is the end of it," she answered. "And now I'm glad you did not +know any better." + +She rose to go, and then she noticed that he had not lunched. + +"I'll wait here until you come back with your sandwich," she said. + +"I don't want a sandwich," he protested. + +"Please hurry." + +So she waited there until he came back with his lunch, and then she +held out her hand to him. + +"To-morrow you go to the old place," she said, "and I'll come here." + + + + +CHAPTER X + +DICTATION + + +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. + +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 eclair had he been starving. + +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. + +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. + +Somehow, he did not feel that he really 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. + +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 _not_ +alone concerned. That was the whole trouble. If Blake talked only +about him, and let it go at that, no harm would be done. + +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. + +Don had an inspiration. He caught Powers just as he was about to +leave. + +"Look here, old man," he said in an undertone. "Is there any objection +to my dictating a letter to Miss Winthrop?" + +"Why, no," answered Powers. "She's there for the use of the staff." + +"Thought I'd like to have her take down some of the things we've been +talking about," he explained. + +"Good idea," nodded Powers. + +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:-- + +"Can you take a letter for me, Miss Winthrop?" + +Almost as automatically as she answered Blake, she replied:-- + +"Certainly." + +She reached for her notebook and pencil. + +"_My dear Madame_," he began. + +"Any address, Mr. Pendleton?" + +"I don't know the exact address," he answered. "Just address it to the +little restaurant in the alley." + +She looked up. + +"Mr. Pendleton!" + +"To the little restaurant in the alley," he continued calmly. "Do you +use Madame or Mademoiselle to an unmarried lady?" he inquired. + +"I suppose this is a strictly business letter, or you would not be +dictating it in office hours," she returned. + +"I'll make it partly business," he nodded. "Ready?" + +"Yes, Mr. Pendleton; but I don't think--" + +"Who is introducing the personal element now?" he demanded. + +"Ready, Mr. Pendleton." + + _My dear Madame_:-- + + 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. + +"Try me on one of them?" he suggested, interrupting himself. + +She raised her eyes and glanced anxiously around the office. Then she +replied, as if reading from her notebook:-- + +"You forget, Mr. Pendleton, that I am taking a letter from you." + +"Try me on one of the bonds," he insisted. + +"You mustn't act like this. Really, you mustn't." + +"Then I'll dictate some more. Ready?" + +"Yes, Mr. Pendleton." + +Our Miss Winthrop has just informed me that you have lost your +interest in the whole matter. + +"I didn't say that, Mr. Pendleton," she interrupted. + +"What did you say, then?" + +"I said that here in the office--" + +"Oh, I see. Then scratch that sentence out." + +She scratched it out. + +"Have it read this way":-- + +Our Miss Winthrop informs me-- + +"Why need you bring me in at all?" she asked. + +"Please don't interrupt." + +--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. + +Miss Winthrop's brows came together. + +"That is absolutely impossible!" she exclaimed. + +If the idea does not appeal to you as a pleasure,-- + +he went on in the most impersonal of tones,-- + +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-- + +"You'd better save them," she interrupted. + +--to insure a proper settlement with the waiter,-- + +he concluded his sentence. + +Please let me know, then, where I may meet you on Saturday evening +next. + +"I told you that was quite impossible, Mr. Pendleton," she reminded +him. + +"You haven't told me why." + +"There are a hundred reasons, and they can't be discussed here." + +"That's it," he exclaimed triumphantly. "That's the whole trouble! We +can't discuss 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." + +"You're absurd," she declared, with an involuntary smile. + +Hoping for the favor of an early reply,-- + +he concluded,-- + +I beg to remain, Madame, most sincerely yours. + +"Is that all?" + +"You might add this postscript":-- + +I shall be at the Harvard Club at seven to-night, and a 'phone message +there might be the most convenient way of replying. + +"You don't really wish this typed, Mr. Pendleton?" + +"I think it best," he replied as he rose, "unless you're too tired?" + +"I'm never tired in business hours." + +He returned to his desk; in a few seconds he heard the click of her +machine. + +Miss Winthrop did not stop at the delicatessen store that night, but +went direct to her room. She removed her hat and coat, and then sat +down, chin in hands, to think this problem out. + +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. + +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 be disappointed, and, being disappointed, Heaven only +knew what he would do. + +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. + +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. + +"If you insist I'll come to-morrow night," she informed him. "But--" + +"Say, that's fine!" he interrupted. + +"But I want you to understand that I don't approve of it." + +"Oh, that's all right," he assured her. "Where may I call for you?" + +"I--I don't know." + +"Where do you live?" + +She gave her address. + +"Then I'll call there." + +"Very well," she answered. + +"Now, I call that mighty good of you," he ran on. "And--" + +"Good-night," she concluded sharply. + +She hung up the receiver and went back to her room in anything but a +comfortable frame of mind. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +STEAK, WITH MUSHROOMS AND ADVICE + + +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 Mr. Pendleton--which filled him with considerable pride. + +Don went direct to his house from the office, dressed, and went to the +club. + +"If any one rings me up, get the name," he ordered the doorman. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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 +than an acquaintance of his, but now he saw in him a prospective +customer. + +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. + +"Am I late?" he inquired anxiously. + +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. + +"No," she answered. "Did you come in that?" + +She was looking at the taxi. + +He nodded, and stood at the door, ready to assist her in. + +"Well, you may send it away now," she informed him. + +"But--" + +"I won't go in it," she insisted firmly. + +"Afraid it will break down?" + +"Are you going to send it away?" + +Without further argument he paid the driver and sent him off. + +"It isn't right to waste money like that," she told him. + +"Oh, that was the trouble? But it wouldn't have cost more than a +couple of dollars to have gone back with him." + +"Two dollars! That's carfare for three weeks." + +"Of course, if you look at it that way. But here we are away uptown, +and--hanged if I know how to get out." + +He looked around, as bewildered as a lost child. She could not help +laughing. + +"If you're as helpless as that I don't see how you ever get home at +night," she said. + +He looked in every direction, but he did not see a car line. He turned +to her. + +"I won't help you," she said, shaking her head. + +"Then we'll have to walk until we come to the Elevated," he +determined. + +"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." + +"I can ask some one, can't I?" + +"I certainly would before I walked very far." + +"Then I'm going to ask you." + +He raised his hat. + +"I beg pardon, madame, but would you be so good--" + +"Oh, turn to the right," she laughed. "And do put on your hat." + +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. + +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 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. + +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. + +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. + +Then, during the long wait for the steak and mushrooms, his face +became serious, and he leaned across the table. + +"By the way," he began, "the house has received a new allotment of +bonds; I want to tell you about them." + +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. + +It was the mushrooms and steak that interrupted him. Jacques was +trying to draw his attention to the sizzling hot platter which he 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:-- + +"Good." + +Jacques was somewhat disappointed. + +"Madame sees it?" he ventured. + +Madame, who was sitting with her chin in her hands, staring across the +table at Monsieur, started. + +"Yes," she smiled. "It is beautiful." + +But, when Jacques turned away to carve, she continued to stare again +at Mr. Pendleton. + +"It's in you," she exclaimed. "Oh, what a chance you have!" + +"You think I'll do?" + +"I think that in two years you'll be outselling any one in the +office," she answered. + +His face flushed at the praise. + +"That's straight?" + +"That's straight," she nodded. "And within another year Farnsworth +will pay you anything you demand." + +"Ten thousand?" + +"A gift like yours is worth that to the house--if you don't spoil +it." + +"What do you mean by that?" + +"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." + +It was her apparent sure knowledge of these things that constantly +surprised him. + +"How do you know?" he demanded. + +"Because I've seen and heard. All I can do is to stop, look, and +listen, isn't it?" + +"And warn the speeders?" he laughed. + +"If I could do that much it would be something," she answered +wistfully. + +"Will you warn me?" + +"I'm warning you now." + +She met his eyes with a puzzled frown. + +"I've seen a lot of men start right, but they don't stay right. Why +don't they?" + +"But a lot of them do," he answered. + +"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." + +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. + +"What's that you said?" he demanded. + +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. + +"It isn't worth repeating," she answered uneasily. + +"You said you hated yourself sometimes." + +"The steak is very, very good," she answered, smiling. + +"Then you aren't hating yourself now?" + +"No, no," she replied quickly. "It's only when I get serious +and--please don't let's be serious." + +The rest of the dinner was very satisfactory, 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. + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +A SOCIAL WIDOW + + +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. + +"Poor Don is in business now," was her stock explanation. + +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 +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? + +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 fiance 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. + +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. + +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. + +The climax came when he asked to be excused from the Moore cotillion +because he had three other dances for that week. + +"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." + +"Who is Farnsworth?" she inquired. + +"Why, he's the general manager. I've told you about him." + +"I remember now. But, Don dear, you aren't going to _sell_ things?" + +"You bet I am," he answered enthusiastically. "All I'm waiting for is +a chance." + +"But what do you sell?" she inquired. + +"Investment securities." + +He seemed rather pleased that she was showing so much interest. + +"You see, the house buys a batch of securities wholesale and then +sells them at retail--just as a grocer does." + +"Don!" + +"It's the same thing," he nodded. + +"Then I should call it anything but an attractive occupation." + +"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--" + +"Please don't go into details, Don," she interrupted. "You know I +wouldn't understand." + +"If you'd just let me explain once," he urged. + +"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." + +"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--" + +"Years?" she gasped. + +"Well, until I get my ten thousand." + +"But I thought you were planning to have that by next fall at the +latest." + +"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." + +"I'm sure I don't find ten thousand to be very much," she observed. + +"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." + +"Then they must be very stupid." + +"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." + +"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." + +She fell back upon a straight appeal--an appeal of eyes and arms and +lips. + +"I miss you awfully in the afternoons," she 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." + +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. + +For a moment she allowed it, and then with an excited laugh freed +herself. + +"Please to give me one of your cards, Don," she said. + +He handed her a card, and she wrote upon it this:-- + +"_December sixteenth, Moore cotillion_." + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +DEAR SIR-- + + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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 a fact had to be +accepted. As a man he was entitled to an off day or two--possibly to +an off week. + +But when the second and third and fourth week passed without any +notable improvement in him, Miss Winthrop became worried. + +"You ought to put him wise," she ventured to suggest to Powers. + +"I?" Powers had inquired. + +"Well, he seems like a pretty decent sort," she answered indifferently. + +"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. + +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 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. + +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. + +"How is Pendleton getting along?" he inquired. + +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. + +"I think he has ability," Farnsworth answered slowly. "He began well, +but he has let down a little lately." + +"That's too bad," answered Mr. Seagraves. "I thought he would make a +good man for us." + +"I can tell better in another month," Mr. Farnsworth answered. + +"We need another selling man," declared Mr. Seagraves. + +"We do," nodded Farnsworth. "I have my eye on several we can get if +Pendleton doesn't develop." + +"That's good. Ready, Miss Winthrop." + +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. + +She had already done what she could for him, and it had not amounted +to a row of pins. She 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. + +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. + +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 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. + +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 _must_ 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? + +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 office +paper, rolled it into the machine, snapped the carriage into position, +and began. + + MR. DONALD PENDLETON, + Care Carter, Rand & Seagraves, + New York, N.Y. + + _Dear Sir_:-- + + 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. + + 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. + + 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 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. + + 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, + + Respectfully yours, + SARAH K. WINTHROP. + +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. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +IN REPLY + + +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. + +"If you're trying to learn that by heart--" he began. + +Don thrust the letter into his pocket. + +"I beg your pardon," he apologized. "It--it was rather important." + +They sat down in the lounge. + +"What's yours?" inquired Wadsworth, as in response to a bell a page +came up. + +"A little French vichy," answered Don. + +"Oh, have a real drink," Wadsworth urged. + +"I think I'd better not to-night," answered Don. + +Wadsworth ordered a cock-tail for himself. + +"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. + +"I don't know," answered Don. + +"You don't mean to say you've cut out business?" exclaimed Wadsworth. + +"I guess I have," Don answered vaguely. + +"Think of retiring?" + +"To tell the truth, I hadn't thought of it until very lately; but +now--" + +Don restrained a desire to read his letter through once more. + +"Take my advice and do it," nodded Wadsworth. "Nothing in it but a +beastly grind. It's pulling on you." + +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. + +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 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! + +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. + +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 he realized that resigning was out +of the question. He really had no alternative but to make good; so he +_would_ make good. + +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. + + MY DEAR SARAH K. WINTHROP [he began]:-- + + 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. + + 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. + + If that had happened I think my father would 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. + + 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. + + 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. + + You're dead right in all you said, and if I can't 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 + + Yours truly, + DONALD PENDLETON, JR. + +Don addressed the letter to the office, mailed it, and went home to +dress. But before going upstairs he called to Nora. + +"Nora," he said, "you know that I'm in business now?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"And you wouldn't like to see me fired, would you?" + +"Oh, Lord, sir!" gasped Nora. + +"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." + +The next morning Don stepped briskly into the office five minutes +ahead of Miss Winthrop. + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +COST + + +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. + +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 length. She herself was +very busy. Mr. Seagraves, having accidentally discovered her ability, +was now employing her more and more in his private office. + +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. + +But when Graustein & Company announced to him their new spring +importations, and he 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:-- + +"What will you charge for making up this?" + +"But you have long had an account with us!" he exclaimed. "Here is +something here, Mr. Pendleton,--an exclusive weave." + +"No," answered Don firmly; "I don't want that. But this other--you +said you'd make that for how much?" + +Graustein appeared injured. He waved his hand carelessly. + +"Eighty dollars," he replied. "You really need two more, and I'll make +the three for two hundred." + +"Thanks. I will tell you when to go ahead." + +"We like to have plenty of time on your work, Mr. Pendleton," said +Graustein. + +Two hundred dollars! Once upon the street again, Don caught his +breath. His bill at Graustein's had often amounted to three times +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. + +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. + +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. When they were not, he entered and asked the prices. It +became a passion with him to learn the cost of things. + +It was toward the middle of May that Frances first mentioned a +possible trip abroad that summer. + +"Dolly Seagraves is going, and wishes me to go with her," she +announced. + +"It will take a lot of money," he said. + +"What do you mean, Don?" + +One idle evening he had figured the cost of the wedding trip they had +proposed. He estimated it at three years' salary. + +"Well, the tickets and hotel bills--" he began. + +"But, Don, dear," she protested mildly, "I don't expect you to pay my +expenses." + +"I wish to Heavens I could, and go with you!" + +"We had planned on June, hadn't we?" she smiled. + +"On June," he nodded. + +She patted his arm. + +"Dear old Don! Well, I think a fall wedding would be nicer, anyway. +And Dolly has an English cousin or something who may have us +introduced at court. What do you think of that?" + +"I'd rather have you right here. I thought after the season here I +might be able to see more of you." + +"Nonsense! You don't think we'd stay in town all summer? Don, dear, I +think you're getting a little selfish." + +"Well, you'd be in town part of the summer." + +She shook her head. + +"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?" + +"Two weeks, I think." + +"Oh, dear, then you can't." + +"Holy smoke, do you know what a first-class passage costs?" + +"I don't want to know. Then you couldn't go, anyway, could you?" + +"Hardly." + +"Shall you miss me?" + +"Yes." + +"That will be nice, and I shall send you a card every day." + +"Good Heavens!" he exclaimed. "If your father would only go broke +before then. If only he would!" + +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. + +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 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. + +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. + +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 matter how close an analogy physicians might +draw. + +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. + +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. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +A MEMORANDUM + + +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. + +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 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. + +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:-- + + MR. DONALD PENDLETON. + + DEAR SIR:-- + + You're making good, and Farnsworth knows it. + + Sincerely yours, + SARAH KENDALL WINTHROP. + +To hear from her like this was like meeting an old friend upon the +street. It seemed to say 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. + +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. + +"Why, hello," he greeted her. + +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 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. + +"Hello," he repeated. + +"Hello," she answered. + +There was an empty seat next to hers. + +"Will you hold that for me?" he asked. + +"They don't let you reserve seats here," she told him. + +"Then I guess I'd better not take a chance," he said, as he sat down +in it. + +He had not changed any in the last few months. + +"Do you expect me to go and get your lunch for you?" she inquired. + +"No," he assured her. "I don't expect to get any lunch." + +She hesitated. + +"I was mighty glad to get your note," he went on. "I was beginning to +think I'd got lost in the shuffle." + +"You thought Mr. Farnsworth had forgotten you?" + +"I sure did. I hadn't laid eyes on him for a week." + +"Mr. Farnsworth never forgets," she answered. + +"How about the others?" + +"There isn't any one else worth speaking of in that office." + +"How about you?" + +"I'm one of those not worth speaking of," she replied. + +She met his eyes steadily. + +"Seagraves doesn't seem to feel that way. He keeps you in there all +the time now." + +"The way he does his office desk," she nodded. "You'd better get your +lunch." + +"I'll lose my chair." + +"Oh, get your sandwich; I'll hold the chair for you," she answered +impatiently. + +He rose immediately, and soon came back with his plate and coffee-cup. + +"Do you know I haven't had one of these things or a chocolate eclair +since the last time I was in one of these places with you?" + +"What _have_ you been eating?" + +"Doughnuts and coffee, mostly." + +"That isn't nearly so good for you," she declared. + +He adjusted himself comfortably. + +"This is like getting back home," he said. + +"Home?" + +She spoke the word with a frightened, cynical laugh. + +"Well, it's more like home than eating alone at the other places," he +said. + +"They are all alike," she returned--"just places in which to eat." + +She said it with some point, but he did not see the point. He took a +bite of his egg sandwich. + +"Honest, this tastes pretty good," he assured her. + +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. + +"How do you like your new work?" she inquired. + +"It's fierce," he answered. "It's mostly arithmetic." + +"It all helps," she said. "All you have to do now is just to keep at +it. Keeping posted on the bonds?" + +"Yes. But as fast as I learn a new one, it's sold." + +"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." + +"You think so?" + +"I know it, if you keep going. But you can't let up--not for one +day." + +"If I can only last through the summer," he reflected aloud. "Have you +ever spent a summer in town?" + +"Where else would I spend a summer?" she inquired. + +"I like the mountains myself. Ever been to Fabyan House?" + +She looked to see if he was joking. He was not. He had spent the last +three summers very pleasantly in the White Mountains. + +"No," she answered. "A ten-cent trolley trip is my limit." + +"Where?" + +"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." + +There was a note in her voice that made him turn his head toward her. +The color sprang to her cheeks. + +"It's time I was getting back," she announced as she rose. "This is +Mr. Seagraves's busy day." + +"But look here; I haven't finished my eclair!" + +"Then you'd better devote the next five minutes to that," she +advised. + +She disappeared through the door, and in another second was blended +with a thousand others. + +Don drew out his memorandum book and made the following entry:-- + +"Visit Central Park some day and watch the kiddies." + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +ON THE WAY HOME + + +Frances wrote him enthusiastically from London. In her big, sprawling +handwriting the letter covered eight pages. Toward the end she +added:-- + +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, + + Your FRANCES. + +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. When Saturday came he was sorry that it was a half-holiday: +he would have liked to work even through Sunday. + +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. + +She glanced about uneasily. + +"Please--we mustn't stand here." + +"Then I'll walk a little way with you." + +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. + +She allowed two trains to pass, and then said:-- + +"I must go home now." + +"It seems to me you are always on the point of going home," he +complained. "What do you do after you get there?" + +"I have a great many things to do," she informed him. + +"You have dinner?" + +"Yes." + +"Sometimes I have dinner too," he nodded. "Then what do you do?" + +"I have a great many things to do," she repeated. + +"I don't have anything to do after dinner," he said. "I just wander +around until it's time to go to bed." + +"That's a waste of time." + +"I know it. It's just killing time until the next day." + +She appeared interested. + +"You have many friends?" + +"They are all in London and Paris," he answered. + +"You have relatives." + +"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." + +"You live in a house all by yourself?" + +He nodded. + +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. + +"I wish you would tell me about your house," she said wistfully. + +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. + +"My, but you're lucky!" she exclaimed. "I should think you'd want to +spend there every minute you could get." + +"Why?" he asked in surprise. + +"Just because it's your house," she answered. "Just because it's all +your own." + +"I don't see it," he answered. + +"And what do _you_ want of ten thousand a year?" she demanded. "You +can live like a king on what you're drawing now." + +"You don't mean that?" he asked. + +"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." + +"On twenty-five dollars a week?" + +"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." + +"Well, I have to eat," he observed. + +"Yes, you have to eat." + +"And wear clothes." + +She was doing that and paying her rent out of fifteen. + +"I don't see what you do with all your money," she answered. + +At this point she stepped out of the train, and he followed her. She +went down the stairs to 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. + +"I'm going in here," she informed him, as if that concluded the +interview. + +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. + +"I'm going to buy my provisions for to-morrow," she further informed +him. + +"I suppose I must get something too," he answered. "Can't I buy it +here?" + +"It's a public place," she admitted. + +"Then come on." + +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 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. + +"Now," he asked, when she had concluded, "what do you think _I'd_ +better order?" + +Her cheeks were flushed, and she knew it. + +"I'm sure I don't know," she answered. + +He saw some eggs. + +"I might as well have a dozen eggs to start with," he began. + +"Is there only yourself?" she inquired. + +"Yes," he answered. + +"Then I should think a half-dozen would do." + +"A half-dozen," he corrected the order. + +Then he thought of chops. + +"A pound or two of chops," he ordered. + +"If you have eggs for breakfast, you will need chops only for dinner. +Two chops will be enough." + +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 insisted that Hans make a second reckoning. The total +was the same. + +"I shall trade with you altogether after this," he informed the +pleased proprietor. + +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. + +"I'm going home now," she announced. + +"There you are again!" he exclaimed. + +"But I must." + +"I suppose you think I ought to go home." + +"Certainly." + +"Look here--doesn't it seem sort of foolish to prepare two lunches in +two different places. Doesn't it seem rather wasteful?" + +Offhand, it did. And yet there was something wrong with that argument +somewhere. + +"It may be wasteful, but it's necessary," she replied. + +"Now, is it?" he asked. "Why can't we go downtown somewhere and lunch +together?" + +"You must go home with your bundles," she said, grasping at the most +obvious fact she could think of at the moment. + +"If that's the only difficulty, I can call a messenger," he replied +instantly. + +"And lose all you've saved by coming 'way up here? I won't listen to +it." + +"Then I'll go home with them and come back." + +"It will be too late for lunch then." + +"I can take a taxi and--" + +"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." + +"I haven't a doubt of it," he answered cheerfully. "On the other hand, +it would get me out of such predicaments as these." + +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. + +"The sensible thing for you to do is to go home and have lunch," she +decided. + +"And then?" + +"Oh, I can't plan your whole day for you. But you ought to get out in +the sunshine." + +"Then I'll meet you in the park at three?" + +"I didn't say that." + +"Will you come?" + +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:-- + +"Yes." + +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. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +A DISCOURSE ON SALARIES + + +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. + +She realized this because when, at five o'clock, 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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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 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. + +"Fine," he nodded. "Next Sunday I'll go with you." + +That afternoon he started making his preparations. + +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. + +"Now," suggested the clerk, "a small chicken roasted and served cold +would be very nice." + +"Right," nodded Don. + +"I could order it for you from here." + +"Right again," agreed Don. + +It was to be sent to the house, so that Nora could have it roasted +that afternoon. + +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. + +When Miss Winthrop came into the station for the nine-thirty, he was +waiting for her with the big wicker basket in his hand. + +They rode to a little village hardly large enough to have a name, and +getting out there took to the open road. + +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. + +The stream that she had discovered only 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. + +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. + +"I should say so," he nodded. + +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. + +"I don't see why you didn't tell me about this place before," he +observed. + +"I wasn't quite sure you'd like it here, for one thing," she +answered. + +"Why not?" + +"It isn't a very gay place, is it?" + +"It's considerably gayer than my house on a Sunday," he answered. + +"It's your own fault you don't enjoy your house more," she declared. + +"How is it?" + +"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." + +"Don't you any longer?" + +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. + +"It's hard to pretend anything except when you're alone," she +answered. + +He sat up. + +"Then you oughtn't to have let me come here with you." + +She smiled. + +"How could I help it? You just came." + +"I know it," he admitted. "I'm always butting in, and you ought to +tell me so every now and then." + +"Would that make any difference?" + +"I don't know as it would," he admitted. "But it might make me +uncomfortable." + +"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." + +"I don't see how you figure that," he answered. + +"Being a man is being able to do about anything you wish." + +"Don't you believe it," he replied. "Having money is the only thing +that makes you able to do what you wish." + +"Oh, dear!" she exclaimed. "Are you going back to that ten thousand a +year?" + +"Pretty soon now it will be September," he reflected irrelevantly. + +"And then?" + +"I had rather hoped to get it by then." + +"Well, you won't, so you'd better forget it. I shouldn't wonder but +what you received a raise to two thousand if Farnsworth gets you out +selling, and that ought to satisfy you." + +Don looked up. Somehow, every time she put it that way it did sound +enough. Beside the brook it sounded like plenty. + +"Look here," he exclaimed. "Would you marry a man who was only drawing +a salary of two thousand?" + +For a moment the question confused her, but only for a moment. + +"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." + +"You mean you think two could live on that?" + +"Of course they could," she answered shortly. + +"And have enough to buy clothes and all those things?" + +"And put money in the bank if they weren't two fools," she replied. + +"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." + +"Yes," she nodded; "I've heard that." + +"Well, don't they?" he persisted. + +"I don't remember ever getting any bill of that size," she answered +with a smile. + +"What do your bills amount to?" he inquired. + +Miss Winthrop hesitated a moment. + +"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." + +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. + +"I'm hungry," she announced. + +"Right," he nodded. "There's my basket over there, and I'll let you +set the table." + +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 she +brought the basket over in front of him and opened it. She gave one +look into it. + +"Did you buy all this?" she demanded. + +"Why, yes," he answered. + +She removed the napkin and saw the cold chicken. + +"Didn't you know any better, or were you just trying to see how much +money you could throw away?" she inquired. + +"Don't you like chicken?" + +"Yes, I like chicken," she answered. + +"There are other things underneath, and hot coffee in the bottles," he +announced. + +Just to see how far he had gone, she took out the other things. She +caught her breath. + +"Well, it's your own affair," she commented. "But, if you eat all +this, I'm sorry for you." + +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. + +"Look here!" he exclaimed. "You didn't think I bought this all for +myself?" + +"I'd rather think that than to think you thought I was silly enough to +want you to throw away your money." + +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. + +"You aren't going to have any of this?" + +"No, thank you." + +"I call that rather too bad, because if you don't it will be wasted." + +"It was wasted when you bought it." + +"But you didn't tell me what to get." + +"I told you we'd each bring our own luncheon," she reminded him. + +"And so we did; but I don't call it very friendly of you not to share +with me." + +"I have quite enough of my own." + +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. + +"Aren't you going to eat your lunch?" she demanded. + +"I refuse to eat alone." + +"I'm the one who is eating alone," she said. + +"That seems to be what you want." + +"You've no right to do things and then blame me for them," she +protested. + +"You're doing all the blaming yourself," he returned. + +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. + +"It was silly enough to buy all those expensive things, but it would +be even sillier to throw them away," she asserted. + +"It would at least be too bad," he confessed. "But I can't help it, +can I? I can't _make_ you eat, you know." + +There he went again, placing the whole blame on her. + +"Hand me that basket," she ordered. + +He handed her the basket, and she brought out the delicacies. + +"Next time I shall prepare both lunches," she declared. + +"That will be very nice," he nodded. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +A LETTER + + +Letter from Miss Frances Stuyvesant to Donald Pendleton, Esq.:-- + + PARIS, FRANCE, June 20. + + DEAR OLD DON:-- + +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. + +Now I must hurry up and dress; but please remember that I am still, as +always, + + Your FRANCES. + + + + +CHAPTER XX + +STARS + + +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. + +"We can go down there, have our supper, and then get out of the crowd +and smell the ocean awhile," he said. + +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. + +"What do you say?" he pressed her. + +She blushed at her own hesitancy. + +"Oh, I'll go," she answered. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +"See those stars!" he exclaimed, as if this were the first time he had +ever seen them. + +She lifted her eyes and looked at them. + +"I often look at them," she said. + +Then she laughed gently to herself. + +"Do you know what I do when I'm silly enough to want jewels?" she +asked. + +"What?" + +"I take a look at those stars, and then I don't want jewels any +more." + +"A man could give away diamonds by the handful if women would take +that kind," he exclaimed. "See that big fellow up there?" He pointed +it out, and she nodded. + +"I'll give you that one," he offered. + +She laughed lightly--confidently. + +"But I don't have to come to you or to any one," she reminded him. "I +can just give it to myself." + +"That isn't quite the same thing, is it?" + +No, it was not quite the same thing. She knew it. But she was not +telling all she knew. + +"It's a wonder to me you've never married," he said. + +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. + +"I suppose you've figured out that, with all your free diamonds, +you're better off as you are," he suggested. + +She did not answer. + +"Is that the way of it?" he persisted. + +She tried to make her voice natural, but there was a tightening in her +throat. + +"I haven't done much figuring of any kind along that line," she said. + +He was looking out to sea. + +"I don't know but what both men and women are better off unmarried," +he said. + +"They aren't," she answered. + +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. + +"You mean that?" he said. + +"I mean it," she answered. + +"Even if a man hasn't much money?" + +She turned her eyes again to the sky. + +"What has money to do with the stars?" she asked. + +"Do you think a man in my position has any right to ask a woman to +marry him?" + +"What has your position to do with it?" she asked. + +"It has a lot if the woman wants five times what I'm earning," he +answered. + +She gave a little startled cry. The stars swam before her. + +"Oh!" she gasped. "You mean--you mean you're thinking of some one +like--like that?" + +"Yes," he answered. + +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. + +"I asked her to marry me a year ago," he said. + +The stars were still swimming before her. + +"And--and she said--?" + +"She said she thought I ought to wait until I was earning ten +thousand." + +"And that's the reason you--you wanted the ten thousand?" + +"Yes. You didn't think I wanted it for myself, did you?" + +"I didn't know," she answered. + +It was like a load removed from his shoulders. He breathed freer. + +"You're the most sensible woman I ever met, and I thought you could +help me." + +She hated that word sensible now, though when Mr. Seagraves had used +it to her it had seemed like a compliment. + +"You see, I had plenty of money when we 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." + +"Where is--where is she now?" Miss Winthrop demanded. + +"She went abroad in June to stay until September." + +"And left you here?" + +"Of course. I couldn't go." + +"And left you here?" she repeated. + +"That's what you get for being in business," he explained. "We had +planned to go together--on our honeymoon." + +The air was getting chill. She shivered. + +"Aren't you warm enough?" he asked. + +He started to remove his jacket to throw over her shoulders, but she +objected. + +"I'm all right." + +"Better put it on." + +"No; I don't want it." + +They were silent a moment, and then she said, almost complainingly:-- + +"As long as you couldn't go, why didn't she stay here with you?" + +The question startled him. + +"In town?" he exclaimed. + +"Why didn't she stay here and look after you?" + +"Why, she couldn't do that when she was going abroad." + +"Then she had no business to go abroad," she answered fiercely. + +"Now, look here," he put in. "We aren't married, you know. We're only +engaged." + +"But _why_ aren't you married?" + +"We couldn't afford it." + +"That isn't true. You could afford it on half what you're earning." + +He shook his head. "You don't know." + +"She should have married you, and if she wanted more she should have +stayed and helped you get more." + +"And helped?" he exclaimed. + +She was looking up at the stars again. They were getting steadier. + +"It's the only way a woman can show--she cares." + +Then she rose. She was shivering again. + +"I think we'd better go now." + +"But we haven't been here a half-hour," he protested. + +"We've been here quite a long while," she answered. "Please, I want to +go home now." + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +IN THE DARK + + +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. + +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 +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. + +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 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. + +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! + +To put one's self in another's place--in a place of so delicate a +nature as this--is a dangerous 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. + +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. + +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 fiancee would be back. 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. + +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 make in her relations with him? To +put the matter bluntly, she was acting exactly as if she were in love +with him herself! + +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. + +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, 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. + +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. + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + +THE SENSIBLE THING + + +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. + +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 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? + +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. + +There was not the slightest use in the world in retorting that this, +after all, was the affair of Don and his fiancee 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. + +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. + +Don met her a little way from the office, and she fell into step at +his side. + +"I was sort of worried about you last night," he said. "You looked +tired." + +"I guess I was," she answered. + +"Don't you get a vacation before long?" + +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. + +"I've decided to take it next month," she answered. + +She decided that much on the spot. + +"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." + +"I should think you had something very important to do with it," she +answered quickly. + +"What do you mean?" + +"Take it for your wedding trip." + +The suggestion made him catch his breath. "Look here," he exclaimed. +"That means getting married!" + +"Surely it does," she nodded. + +They had reached the little restaurant, and 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. + +"You put that up to a man as if it were the easiest thing in the +world," he observed, sitting in the next chair. + +"Well, it is, isn't it--once you've made up your mind?" + +"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." + +"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." + +"Eh?" + +"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." + +Don laughed. + +"That phrase makes a man feel ten years married." + +She had been trying hard to eat her lunch, but without much success. +He noticed this. + +"What's the matter with you?" he inquired. + +"I don't happen to be hungry, that's all," she answered. + +"You didn't catch cold last night?" + +"No." + +"But look here--" + +"Oh, I'm all right," she answered. + +He went to the counter and returned with some doughnuts for himself +and a piece of cake for her. + +"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." + +"It isn't exactly my suggestion." + +"You proposed it a minute ago." + +"All I said was that if you mean to get married, you'd better do it +right away and be done with it." + +"During my vacation?" + +She brought her lips together. + +"Yes." + +"Do you know, that rather appeals to me," he answered thoughtfully. + +She turned aside her head. + +"It's the only sensible thing," she assured him. + +"It would give a man a chance to settle down and attend to business." + +"And give his wife a chance to help him." + +"By Jove, I'm going to propose that to Frances the day she lands!" he +exclaimed. + +He was finishing his last doughnut. Miss Winthrop rose. Once outside, +she could breathe freely. She said:-- + +"Her--her name is Frances?" + +"Frances Stuyvesant," he nodded. + +"When do you expect her home?" + +"The first of September." + +"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." + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + +LOOKING AHEAD + + +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. + +Back in her room that night, Miss Winthrop saw all these things quite +clearly. And she saw 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. + +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. + +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; 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. + +He began to think about what changes in the house would be necessary +before she came. He talked this over with Miss Winthrop. + +"I wish you could come up and look the place over before Frances gets +here," he said to her one day. + +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. + +"I wish I could," she answered sincerely. + +"Well, why can't you?" he asked. + +"It's impossible--of course," she said. + +"I could arrange a little dinner and ask some one to chaperon," he +suggested. + +"It's out of the question," she answered firmly. "You can tell me all +about it." + +"But telling you about it isn't like letting you see it," he said. + +"It is almost as good, and--almost as good is something, isn't it?" + +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. + +"I'd have Nora give everything a thorough cleaning before September," +she advised. + +"I'll do that," he nodded. + +He wrote it down in his notebook, and that night spoke to Nora about +it. She appeared decidedly interested. + +"It's possible that in the fall you may have some one else besides me +to look after," he confided to her in explanation. + +"It's to be soon, sir?" she asked eagerly. + +"In September, perhaps," he admitted. + +"It would please your father, sir," she answered excitedly. "It's +lonesome it's been for you, sir." + +He did not answer, but he thought about that a little. No, it had not +been exactly lonesome for him--not lately. That was because he was +looking ahead. That was it. + +"It hasn't seemed quite natural for you to be living on here alone, +sir," she ventured. + +"Dad lived here alone," he reminded her. + +"Not at your age, sir," answered Nora. + +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. + +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. + +Sail Monday on the Mauretania, but Dolly wants me to spend next two +weeks after arrival in the Adirondacks with her. + +Miss Winthrop returned the cable with a none too steady hand. + +"She mustn't do that," she said firmly. + +"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?" + +"I don't think I would," Miss Winthrop replied. "But I would let her +know I didn't approve of her arrangement." + +"Supposing I just say, 'Have other plans for you'?" + +"That would do," she nodded. + +So he sent her this message, and that evening at dinner Miss Winthrop +spoke to him of another matter. + +"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?" + +"Tell Stuyvesant?" he exclaimed. + +"Why should he object?" she asked. + +"I don't know as he will. Then again he might. You see, I've never +told him just how Dad tied things up." + +"What difference does that make?" she demanded. "With the house and +what you're earning, you have enough." + +"It isn't as much as he expects a man to give his daughter, +though,--not by a long shot." + +"It's enough," she insisted. "Why, even without the house it would be +enough." + +"Yes," he answered, with a smile. "When you say it--it's enough. I +wish Stuyvesant knew you." + +The blood came into her cheeks. She wished he wouldn't say things like +that. + +"It seems to me you ought to see him and tell him," she said +thoughtfully. + +He shook his head. + +"What's the use of seeing him until I've seen Frances?" + +"It's all settled about her." + +"That she'll marry me in September?" + +"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." + +"I wish I were as confident as you!" + +"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." + +"And Frances is all ready?" + +"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." + +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.... + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV + +VACATIONS + + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +"Look at 'em," he said. "They seem nearer to-night than I've ever seen +them." + +[Illustration: "I GUESS WOMEN ARE DIFFERENT FROM MEN"] + +She was a bit jealous of those stars. It had been when with her that +he had first seen them. + +"You aren't looking," he complained. + +She turned her eyes to the sky. To her they seemed farther away than +ever. + +"Maybe Frances is looking at those same stars," he said. + +She resented the suggestion. She turned her eyes back to the street. + +"Where's the star I gave you?" he asked. + +"It's gone," she answered. + +"Have you lost it?" + +"I can't see it." + +"Now, look here," he chided her lightly. "I don't call that very nice. +You don't have a star given you every night." + +"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." + +"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. + +"I'll give you that one, and please don't lose it." + +She was not looking. + +"Do you see it?" he insisted. + +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. + +"Yes," she answered, with a break in her voice. + +"That one is yours," he assured her. + +It was as if he added, "All the rest belong to Frances." + +She held out her hand to him. + +"Thank you for your star," she said. "And--and I wish you the best of +luck." + +He took her hand, but he was confused by the note of finality in her +voice. + +"I don't see any need of being so solemn about saying good-night," he +returned. + +He continued to hold her hand firmly. + +"But it's good-bye and--God-speed, too," she reminded him. + +"How do you make that out?" + +"You're going on a long journey, and I--I'm going on a little +journey." + +"You? Where are you going?" + +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. + +"My vacation begins to-morrow," she answered. + +"And you're going away--out of town?" + +She nodded. + +"You can't do that," he protested. "Why, I was depending upon you +these next few days." + +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. + +"You mustn't depend upon any one these next few days but yourself," +she answered earnestly. "And after that--just yourself and her." + +"That's well enough if everything comes out all right." + +"Make it come out right. That's your privilege as a man. Oh, that's +why it's so good to be a man!" + +"You ought to have been a man yourself," he told her. + +She caught her breath at that, and insisted upon withdrawing her +hand. + +"I used to think I'd like to be," she answered. + +"And now?" + +She shook her head. + +He had swung the talk back to her again, when the talk should have +been all of him and Frances. + +"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?" + +"No," he answered. + +"Your home, your wife, and your work--it's wonderful to make good in +so many things all at once! So--good-bye." + +"You talk as if you were not coming back again!" + +"I'm coming back to Carter, Rand & Seagraves--if that's what you +mean." + +"And you're coming back here--to your home?" + +"Yes; I'm coming back here." + +"Then we'll just say s'long." + +"No. We must say good-bye." + +She had not wished to say this in so many words. She had hoped he +would take the new situation for granted. + +"When I come back you must look on me as--as Mr. Farnsworth does." + +"That's nonsense." + +"No; it's very, very good sense. It's the only thing possible. Can't +you see?" + +"No." + +"Then Frances will help you see." + +"She won't want to make a cad of me; I know that." + +"I'm going in now." + +She opened the door behind her. + +"Wait a moment," he pleaded. + +"No, I can't wait any longer. Good-bye." + +She was in the dark hall now. + +"Good-bye," she repeated. + +"S'long," he answered. + +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. + + + + +CHAPTER XXV + +IN THE PARK + + +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. + +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 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. + +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. + +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. + +"Dear old Don," she said. "It's good to see you again. But you look +tired." + +"And you look beautiful!" he exclaimed. + +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. 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. + +"Don, dear, what's the matter?" + +He was so long silent that she was worried. He passed his hand over +his forehead. + +"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." + +"Nice things?" + +"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?" + +"Where, Don?" + +He smiled. + +"In the park." + +"What an odd fancy!" she answered. + +"Here I get you all mixed up with your father and mother and the +Queen," he ran on. "I want to talk to you alone." + +He sounded more natural to her when he talked like that. + +"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 _were_ those other plans you cabled me about?" + +"Those are what I want to talk over with you," he answered. + +"What are they? I'm dying to know." + +"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." + +He turned. + +"Don't you want to--to--" + +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. + +"I'll be here at two. And, this once--you must cancel every other +engagement." + +"Yes, Don." + +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. + +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. + +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. + +"She will love it," she had assured him. + +It was as if he heard her voice again repeating 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. + +"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." + +As she said it he felt that to be true, although to him it was a +brand-new point of view. + +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. + +"It's in you to get everything in the world you want," she had said +last night, when she was leaving him. + +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. + +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. + +It was after two when he reached the house, but Frances was not ready. +She was never quite ready. + +"I'll wait outside," he told the maid. + +The maid raised her brows a trifle, but answered civilly:-- + +"Very well, sir." + +As he walked back and forth the Stuyvesant machine also drew up before +the door and 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. + +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. + +"I have several little things to do after we've had our walk," she +explained to Don, as he came up. + +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:-- + +"Central Park." + +Then he turned to her. + +"When we get there we must get out and walk." + +"Very well, Don," she submitted; "but I think we'd be much more +comfortable right here." + +She regarded him anxiously. + +"Is anything worrying you, Don?" + +"Only you," he answered. + +"I?" she exclaimed. "If it's because of Jimmy Schuyler, you needn't +worry any more. He was very nice at first, but later--well, he was +too nice. You see, he forgot I was engaged." + +"The little cad!" exclaimed Don. + +"You mustn't blame him too much. He just forgot. And now he is very +attentive to Dolly." + +"She allows it?" + +"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?" + +"It doesn't appeal to me just now," he answered. + +The machine had swung into the park. He ordered the chauffeur to +stop. + +"Come," he said to Frances. + +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. + +"It's about the other plans I want to tell you out here," he began +eagerly. + +"Yes, Don." + +"I've done a lot of work while you were away," he said proudly. + +"It seems a pity it was necessary," she answered. + +"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." + +She looked puzzled. + +"You mean you've been made a partner or something?" + +"Hardly that--yet," he smiled. "But it's pretty sure I'll be put to +selling when I come back." + +"You're going away?" + +"I'm on my vacation," he explained. "This is the first day of my +vacation." + +"Oh, then you _can_ come with us?" + +"I'd rather you came with me." + +"With you, Don? But where?" + +"Anywhere you wish, as long as we go together and alone. Only we must +get back in two weeks." + +"Don, dear!" + +"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 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." + +She stared about in fear lest some one might be overhearing his +rambling talk. + +"Don," she gasped. + +"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." + +She did not answer. She could not. She was left quite paralyzed. He +was leaning forward expectantly. + +"You'll come with me?" + +It was a full minute before she could answer. Then she said:-- + +"It's so impossible, Don." + +"Impossible?" + +"One doesn't--doesn't get married that way!" + +"What does it matter how one gets married?" he answered. + +"What would people say?" + +"I don't care what they'd say." + +"You mustn't get like that, Don, dear," she chided him. "Why, that's +being an anarchist or something, isn't it?" + +"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 +eclair, 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." + +She did not answer, because she did not quite know what he was talking +about. Yet, her 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. + +"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?" + +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. + +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 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. + +"Oh, Don," she exclaimed, "it's only people in stories who do that +way!" + +"It's the way we can do--if you will." + +"There's Dad," she reminded him. + +"He let you become engaged, didn't he?" + +"Yes; but--you don't know him as well as I." + +"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?" + +She reached for his hand and pressed it. + +"I'll give him a chance, but I can't wait. We haven't time to bother +with a wedding--do you mind that?" + +"No, Don." + +"Then, if he doesn't object--it's to-morrow or next day?" + +"You--you take away my breath," she answered. + +"And if he does object?" + +"Don't let's think of that--now," she said. "Let's walk a little--in +the park. It's wonderful out here, Don." + +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. + +"This is all you need," he whispered. "Just to walk out here a +little." + + + + +CHAPTER XXVI + +ONE STUYVESANT + + +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. + +"What's the matter, girlie?" he asked. + +"Nothing, Dad," she answered. "Only--I'm very happy." + +"Good," he nodded. "And that is what I want you to be every minute of +your life." + +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. + +"Frances said you wished to talk over something with me," he said. + +"Yes, sir," answered Don. He did not sit down. He could think better +on his feet. "It's about our marriage." + +Stuyvesant did not answer. He never answered until the other man was +through. Then he knew where he stood. + +"I don't know whether or not you know the sort of will father left," +began Don. + +Stuyvesant did know, but he gave no indication of the fact. He had +been waiting a year for something of this sort. + +"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. + +"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. She said that was what her allowance had been." + +Again Don paused, in the hope that Stuyvesant might wish to contribute +something to the conversation. But Stuyvesant waited for him to +continue. + +"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." + +Don lighted a cigarette. The further he went, the less interest he was +taking in this explanation. Stuyvesant's apparent indifference +irritated him. + +"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." + +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. + +"You mean you've asked my daughter to marry you on that salary?" +inquired Stuyvesant. + +"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." + +Stuyvesant flicked the ashes from his cigar. "What was her reply?" + +"She wanted me to put the proposition before you. That's why I'm +here." + +"I see. And just what do you expect of me?" + +"I suppose she wants your consent," answered Don. "Anyhow, it seemed +only decent to let you know." + +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." + +It was Don's turn to remain silent. + +"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." + +"I don't get that last," Don answered quietly. + +"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." + +"In a way, that's just what I _am_ thinking," answered Don. + +"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." + +"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." + +"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 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." + +"In money?" asked Don. + +"The something more--not in money." + +He rose and stood before Don. + +"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." + +He paused as if expecting an outburst from Don. The latter remained +silent. + +"I've trusted you with the girl," Stuyvesant concluded. "Up to now +I've no fault to find 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." + +"If that means not asking Frances to marry me to-morrow, you can't, +sir." + +"You--you wouldn't ask her to go against my wishes in the matter?" + +"I would, sir." + +"And you expect her to do so?" + +"I hope she will." + +"Well, she won't," Stuyvesant answered. He was chewing his cigar +again. + +"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." + +"Then stay where you are," snapped Stuyvesant. "Don't try to drag in +Frances." + +Don prepared to leave. + +"It's a pity you aren't stony broke too," he observed. + +"Thanks," answered Stuyvesant. "But I'm not, and I don't intend to +have my daughter put in that position." + +"You haven't forgotten that I have a house and twelve hundred?" + +"I haven't forgotten that is all you have." + +"You haven't forgotten the something more?" + +Stuyvesant looked at his watch. + +"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." + +"As you wish," answered Pendleton. "But I hope you'll come and see +us?" + +"Damn you, Pendleton!" he exploded. + +Then he turned quickly and left the room. So, after all, it was he in +the end who lost his temper. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVII + +THE STARS AGAIN + + +Don went to the nearest telephone and rang up Frances. + +"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?" + +"I've just seen him," she answered. "Oh, Don, it was awful!" + +"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." + +"Don, dear, he told me not to meet you anywhere again. He--he was +quite savage about it." + +"He had no right to tell you that," Don answered. "Anyhow, I must see +you. We'll talk it over under the stars." + +"But, Don--" + +"Please to hurry," he said. + +She slipped a scarf over her hair and a cape over her shoulders, and +walked to the corner, 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. + +"What did you say to him, Don?" she panted. + +"I told him I wished to marry you to-morrow," he answered. + +"And he--" + +"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." + +"I've never seen him so angry," she trembled. + +"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." + +She did not quite understand. She thought her father had already +decided this question. However, she said nothing. In something of a +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. + +"See those stars?" he asked, pointing. + +"Yes, Don." + +"I want you to keep looking at them while I'm talking to you," he +said. + +Just beyond the Big Dipper he saw the star he had given Sally +Winthrop. It smiled reassuringly at him. + +"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?" + +"Yes, Don." + +"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." + +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. + +"It's up there we'll be living most of the time," he was saying. + +"Yes, Don." + +"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." + +She lowered her eyes to his. What he was saying sounded topsy-turvy. + +"It's a fact," he ran on. "Why, you can get hungry if you don't have +too much money; and, 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." + +She thrilled with the magic of his voice, but his words were quite +meaningless. + +"You aren't looking at the stars," he reminded her. She looked up +again. + +"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--" + +She appeared frightened. + +"Oh, Don, we--we couldn't get married like that, anyway." + +"Why not?" he demanded. + +"It--it isn't possible." + +"Certainly it's possible." + +She shook her head. + +"No, no. I--I couldn't. Oh, Don, you'll have to give me time to +think." + +"There isn't time," he frowned. + +"We must take time. I'm--I'm afraid." + +"Afraid of what?" + +"Afraid of myself," she answered quickly. "Afraid of Dad. Oh, I'm +afraid of every one." + +"Of me?" He took her hand. + +"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." + +"That's because you didn't keep your eyes on the stars," he assured +her gently. + +"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." + +She was seeing herself clearly now and speaking from the depths of her +soul. + +"Maybe it isn't all my fault. And you're wonderful, Don. It's that +which makes me see myself." + +He kissed her hand. "Dear you," he whispered, "I know the woman 'way +down deep in you, and it's she I want." + +She shook her head. + +"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." + +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. + +"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." + +She drew her cape about her shoulders. + +"Yes," he answered in a hoarse whisper; "she's like that." + +"So, don't you see--" + +"Good Lord, I do see!" he exclaimed. + +Now he saw. + +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. + +Frances was frightened by his silence. + +"I--I think we'd better go back now," she said gently. + +He escorted her to the house without quite knowing how he found the +way. At the door she said:-- + +"Don't you understand, Don?" + +"Yes," he answered; "for the first time." + +"And you'll not think too badly of me?" + +"It isn't anything you can help," he answered. "It isn't anything I +can help, either." + +"Don't think too badly of Dad," she pleaded. "He'll cool down soon, +and then--you must come and see me again." + +She held out her hand, and he took it. Then 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. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII + +SEEING + + +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. + +"She'd want to be hungry with you," Frances had said. + +How had Sally Winthrop known that he was hungry? She had known, and +had shared with him what she had. + +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. + +Frances had used another phrase: "She'd be almost glad you had no +money." + +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. + +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. + +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." + +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. + +"Seems to me," she argued, "she'd have told parties where she was +going if she wanted them to know." + +"This is very important," he insisted. + +"Maybe it's a lot more important to you than it is to her," she +replied. + +"But--" + +"You can leave your name and address, and I'll write to her," she +offered. + +"Look here," Don said desperately. "Do you want to know what my +business is with her?" + +"It's none of my business, but--" + +"I want to ask her to marry me," he broke in. "That's a respectable +business, isn't it?" + +He reached in his pocket and drew out a bill. He slipped it into her +hand. + +"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?" + +"I'll wait here. Only hurry. There may be a late train." + +She was back in a few seconds, holding a slip of paper in her hand. + +"It's to Brenton, Maine, she's gone." + +Don grabbed the paper. + +"Thanks." + +He was halfway down the steps when she called after him:-- + +"Good luck to ye, sir." + +"Thanks again," he called back. + +Then he gave his order to the driver:-- + +"To the Grand Central." + +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. + +"I'm going away to-night for a few days--perhaps for two weeks," he +told Nora. + +"Yes, sir." + +"I'll wire you what my plans are--either to-morrow or next day." + +"And it is to be soon, sir?" + +"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." + +"I'll do that, sir." + +"And the house is ready, isn't it?" + +"Everything is ready, sir." + +"That's fine. Now I'm going to pack." + +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. + +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. +His own phrase came back to frighten him:-- + +"She'd care like that--if she cared at all." + +Supposing that after he found her, she did not care? + +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." + +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. + +At ten the next morning he took the train for Portland. At two he was +on the train for Brenton and hurrying through a strange country to +her side. + +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. + +"Can you tell me where Miss Winthrop is stopping?" + +The man looked blank. + +"No one of that name in this town," he finally answered. + +"Isn't this Brenton?" + +"It's Brenton, right enough." + +"Then she's here," declared Don. + +"Is she visitin'?" inquired the man. + +Don nodded. + +"A cousin, or something." + +A second man spoke up:-- + +"Ain't she the one who's stopping with Mrs. Halliday?" + +"Rather slight, with brown eyes," volunteered Don. + +"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." + +"That's she," Don decided. + +He drew a dollar bill from his pocket. + +"I want one of you to take a note to her from me." + +He wrote on the back of a card:-- + +I'm at the station. I must see you at once. + + DON. + +"Take that to her right away and bring me an answer," he ordered. + +The man took both bill and card and disappeared. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIX + +MOSTLY SALLY + + +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. + +"Won't you even shake hands with me?" he asked anxiously. + +"You--you gave me such a fright," she panted. + +"How?" + +"I thought--I thought you must have been run over." + +He seemed rather pleased. + +"And you cared?" he asked eagerly. + +She was fast recovering herself now. + +"Well, it wouldn't be unnatural to care, would it, if you expected to +find a friend all run over?" + +"And, now that you find I'm not a mangled corpse, you don't care at +all." + +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. + +"How in the world did you get here?" she demanded. + +"I took the train." + +"But--has anything happened?" + +"Lots of things have happened," he said. "That's what I want to tell +you about." + +He looked around. His messenger was taking an eager interest in the +situation. + +"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." + +She appeared frightened in a different sort of way now. + +"But, Mr. Pendleton--" + +"I'm going to remain here perhaps a day or two," he interrupted. + +To him the most obvious course was for her to ask him to meet her aunt +and invite him to remain there. + +"Is there a hotel in town?" he asked. + +"I--I don't think so," she faltered. + +"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." + +He was quite himself now. It was a relief to her. It put her quite off +her guard. + +"Won't you come and meet my aunt?" she invited. + +He picked up his suitcase at once. + +"It will be a pleasure," he answered. + +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 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. + +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. + +She looked up at him. + +"I--I thought you had something very important to do in these next few +days," she reminded him. + +"I have," he answered. + +"Then--I don't understand how you came here." + +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 in the past he had +argued with her he had succeeded. + +"I needed you to explain certain things to me," he replied. + +She looked away from him. + +"About what?" she asked quickly. + +"About getting me married." + +"Oh!" she exclaimed. + +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. + +"I'll have to run ahead and prepare Mrs. Halliday," she said. + +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 of this stranger she was +willing to accept him with much less suspicion than Miss Winthrop. + +"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." + +"It's mighty good of you to take me in this way," he said. + +"Laws sake, what's a spare room for?" + +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. + +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 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. + +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. + +"Don't let me disturb you," he protested. + +That was very easy to say, but he did disturb her. Then Mrs. Halliday +shooed her out of the kitchen. + +"You run right along now; I can attend to things myself." + +"I'd like to help, too," said Don. + +"Run along--both of you," insisted Mrs. Halliday. "You'd be more +bother than help." + +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. + +"I have something very important to say to you," he began. + +"To me?" she exclaimed. + +Again there was the expression of astonishment and--something more. + +"It's about my getting married," he nodded. + +"But I thought that was all settled!" + +"It is," he admitted. + +"Oh!" + +"I think it was settled long before I knew it." + +"Then you're to be married right away?" + +"I hope so." + +"That will be nice." + +"It will be wonderful," he exclaimed. "It will be the most wonderful +thing in the world!" + +"But why did you come 'way down here?" + +"To talk it over with you. You see, a lot depends upon you." + +"Me?" + +Again that questioning personal pronoun. + +"A great deal depends upon you. You are to say when it is to be." + +"Mr. Pendleton!" + +"I wish you'd remember I'm not in the office of Carter, Rand & +Seagraves now. Can't you call me just Don?" + +She did not answer. + +"Because," he explained, "I mean to call you Sally." + +"You mustn't." + +"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?" + +Startled, she glanced up swiftly. What she saw in his eyes made her +catch her breath. He was speaking rapidly now:-- + +"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." + +She gave a little cry and covered her face with her hands. + +"Don't do that," he pleaded. + +[Illustration: "IT'S ABOUT MY GETTING MARRIED"] + +She looked as if she were crying. + +"Sally--Sally Winthrop, you aren't crying?" + +He placed a hand upon her arm. + +"Don't touch me!" she sobbed. + +"Why shouldn't I touch you?" + +"Because--because this is all a horrible mistake." + +"I'm trying to correct a horrible mistake," he answered gently. + +"No--no--no. You must go back to her--right away." + +"To Frances?" + +She nodded. + +"You don't understand. She doesn't want to marry me." + +"You asked her?" + +"Yes." + +"And then--and then you came to me?" + +"Yes, little girl. She sent me to you. She--why, it was she that made +me see straight!" + +Her face was still concealed. + +"I--I wish you'd go away," she sobbed. + +"You don't understand!" he answered fiercely. "I'm not going away. I +love you, and I've come to get you. I won't go away until you come +with me." + +She rose to her feet, her back toward him. + +"Go away!" she cried. + +Then she ran into the house, leaving him standing there dazed. + + + + +CHAPTER XXX + +DON EXPLAINS + + +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. + +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 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. + +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. + +She began to cry again. It was not fair. It 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. + +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 could not endure this very long--certainly not for +eleven days. + +"Sally--where are you?" + +It was Mrs. Halliday's voice from downstairs. + +"I'm coming," she answered. + +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. + +"I declare, I don't think young folks eat as much as they useter in my +days," she commented. + +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 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. + +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. + +"What did you run into the house for?" he demanded. + +"Please let's not talk any more, of that," she pleaded. + +"But it's the nub of the whole matter," he insisted. + +"I went in because I did not want to talk any more." + +"Very well. Then you needn't talk. But you can listen, can't you?" + +"That's the same thing." + +"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?" + +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. + +"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." + +He paused a moment. + +"I wish I'd brought a picture of her with me," he resumed thoughtfully, +"because she's really a peach." + +Miss Winthrop looked up quickly. He was apparently serious. + +"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?" + +Miss Winthrop shook her head with a quick little jerk. + +"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." + +Miss Winthrop was sitting with her chin in her hands, looking intently +at the brick path leading to the house. + +"You listening?" + +She nodded jerkily. + +"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?" + +She nodded. + +"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 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." + +"I--I didn't mean to," she interrupted. + +"You're talking," he reminded her. + +She closed her lips firmly together. + +"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." + +She shuddered. + +"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." + +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. + +"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." + +Again he paused. It was as if he were trying hard to keep his +balance. + +"I want her to know you," he went on. "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." + +She was still huddled up. + +"And here I am," he concluded. + +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. + +"I'm here, little girl," he said patiently. + +"Even after I told you to go away," she choked. + +"Even after you told me to go away." + +"If you only hadn't come at all!" + +"What else was there for me to do?" + +"You--you could have gone to that camp with her. She wanted you to +go." + +"I told her I couldn't go there--long before I knew why." + +"You could have gone--oh, there are so many other places you could go! +And this is the only place I _could_ go." + +"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." + +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. + +"I'm sorry," she said. + +"That's something," he nodded. + +"I--I guess the only thing for me to do is to go away myself." + +"Where?" + +"Back to New York. Oh, I wish I hadn't taken a vacation!" + +"We'll go back if you say so; but it seems foolish after traveling all +this distance." + +"I meant to go back alone," she hastened to correct him. + +"And leave me with Mrs. Halliday?" + +"Please don't mix things all up!" + +"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--" + +He tried to find her hands, but she had them pressed over her eyes. + +"With you back home to help," he repeated--"there's not anything in +the world we won't get." + +And the dream woman in Sally answered to the woman on the steps:-- + +"There's not anything more in the world we'll want when we're home." + +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:-- + +"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." + +She rose swiftly to her feet. + +"Oh, we mustn't talk about it!" she exclaimed. + +He too rose, and he placed both his hands upon her shoulders. + +"I don't understand," he said quickly. "What is it you don't +believe?" + +"I don't believe in fairies," she answered bitterly. + +"Don't you believe that I love you?" + +"To-night--perhaps," she answered. + +Her eyes were not meeting his. + +"You don't believe my love will last?" + +"I--I don't know." + +"Because of Frances?" + +"Everything is so different in New York," she answered. + +"Because of Frances?" + +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. + +"I thought you'd understand about her. I thought you were the one +woman in the world who'd understand." + +She looked up quickly. + +"Perhaps it's easier for men to understand those things than women," +she said. + +"There's so little to understand." + +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. + +"In the morning," she gasped. + +"All right," he answered. + +He took her hand--catching her unawares. + +"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." + +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. + +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. 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. + +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. + +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 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. + +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-- + +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. + +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 he had been thinking. She clenched her hands and +faced the girl. + +"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. + +"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." + +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:-- + +"I made him--not you." + +Sally Winthrop sank into a chair. She began to cry--but softly now. + +"You're mine, Don," she whispered. "You're mine because I took care of +you." + +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. + +"What is it?" she exclaimed. + +"Oh, I'm sorry if I woke you," answered the girl. "But it's turned +cold, and I wondered if Don--if Mr. Pendleton had enough bedclothes." + +"Laws sake," answered Mrs. Halliday. "I gave him two extra comforters, +and if that ain't enough he deserves to freeze." + + + + +CHAPTER XXXI + +SALLY DECIDES + + +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. + +"In the morning," she had said. + +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 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. + +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. + +"Land sakes alive," she gasped, "I didn't expect to see you for a +couple hours." + +"I know it's early," he answered uncomfortably; "I don't suppose Sally +is up?" + +Mrs. Halliday touched a match to the kindling and put the stove covers +back in place. + +"There isn't anything lazy about Sally, but she generally does wait +until the sun is up," she returned. + +She filled the teakettle and then, adjusting her glasses, took a more +critical look at Don. + +"Wasn't ye warm enough last night?" she demanded. + +"Plenty, thank you," he answered. + +"Perhaps bein' in new surroundings bothered you," she suggested; "I +can't ever sleep myself till I git used to a place." + +"I slept like a log," he assured her. + +"Is this the time ye ginerally git up in New York?" + +"Not quite as early as this," he admitted. "But, you see, that +rooster--" + +"I see," she nodded. "And ye kind of hoped it might wake up Sally +too?" + +"I took a chance," he smiled. + +"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." + +"Thanks." + +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 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. + +"Mrs. Halliday--" he began. + +"Wal?" she replied, without turning. She was at that moment busy over +the biscuit board. + +"There's something I think I ought to tell you." + +She turned instantly at that--turned, adjusted her spectacles, and +waited. + +"I--I've asked Sally to marry me," he confessed. + +For a moment her thin, wrinkled face remained immobile. Then he saw a +smile brighten the shrewd gray eyes. + +"You don't say!" she answered. "I've been wonderin' just how long ye'd +be tellin' me that." + +"You knew? Sally told you?" he exclaimed. + +"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--" + +"She did that?" interrupted Don. + +"Thet's jest what she did. But long afore thet you told me yourself." + +"I?" + +"Of course. It's jest oozin' out all over you." + +She came nearer. For a second Don felt as though those gray eyes were +boring into his soul. + +"Look here, young man," she said. "What did Sally say?" + +"She said she'd let me know this morning," he answered. + +"And you've been blamin' my old rooster for gettin' you up?" + +"Not blaming him exactly," he apologized. + +"And you aren't sure whether she's goin' to say yes or goin' to say +no?" + +Don's lips tightened. + +"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." + +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. + +"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 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." + +"That's the trouble," he answered. "She didn't let me go as far as +this. I--I just went." + +Mrs. Halliday smiled again. + +"Mebbe you think so," she admitted. + +"You see--" he stammered. + +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. + +"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." + +"I'll set the table, Aunty," replied Sally grimly. + +"You'll do nothing of the kind," replied Mrs. Halliday. + +She crossed the room and, taking Sally by one arm she took Don by the +other. She led them to the door. + +"Out with you," she commanded. + +Alone with her Don turned to seek Sally's eyes and saw the frown still +there. + +"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." + +He took her arm. + +"You've decided?" he asked. + +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. + +"Heart of me," he burst out, "you've decided?" + +"You--you had no right to tell her," she answered. + +"Come down the road a bit," he pleaded. + +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. + +"I only told her what she already knew," he said. + +"She knew?" + +He spoke in a lower voice--a voice gentle and trembling. + +"She said you came in last night after she had gone asleep--" + +Sally covered her face with her hands. + +"Oh," she gasped, "she--she told you that?" + +He reached up and gently removed her hands. He held them tight in both +of his. + +"It was good of you to think of me like that. It was like you," he +said. + +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 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. + +"She hasn't answered me even yet," he explained to Mrs. Halliday. + +"Oh, Don," cried the trembling girl, her voice smothered in Mrs. +Halliday's shoulder. "You dare say that after--" + +"Well, after what?" demanded Mrs. Halliday. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXII + +BARTON APPEARS + + +The details of the wedding Mrs. Halliday decided to take over into her +own hands. + +"You two can just leave that to me," she informed them. + +"But look here," protested Don, "I don't see why we need bother with a +lot of fuss and--" + +"What business is this of yours?" Mrs. Halliday challenged him. + +"Only we haven't much time," he warned. + +"There's going to be time enough for Sally to be married properly," +she decided. + +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. + +"It's been kept ag'in' this very day," explained Mrs. Halliday, +"though I will say that I was beginnin' to git discouraged." + +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 cooperation of Don, who insisted upon doing his part, +which included the washing of all the upper windows. + +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 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. + +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 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. + +"What's the use of being engaged if I can't kiss you as often as I +wish?" he demanded once. + +"We're engaged in order to be married," she explained. + +"And after we are married--" + +"You wait and see," she answered, her cheeks as red as any schoolgirl's. + +"But that's three days off," he complained. + +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 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. + +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. + +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 way of preparation except perhaps +to increase the quantity of cake and ices. + +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,-- + +"How do, Don?" + +Turning, he saw Barton in a frock coat and a tall hat that he might +have worn last at Pendleton, Senior's, wedding. + +"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." + +"I could hardly do less for Pendleton's boy," answered Barton. + +"Well, sir, you're mighty welcome. Come right in. Oh, Sally," he +called. + +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. It +was not exactly the costume she would have chosen in which first to +meet Mr. Barton. Her cheeks showed it. + +"Sally," said Don, "this is Mr. Barton--my father's lawyer. Mr. +Barton, this is Miss Winthrop." + +Barton bowed low with old-fashioned courtesy. Then he allowed his keen +gray eyes to rest a moment upon hers. + +"I am very glad to meet you," he said. + +"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." + +Mrs. Halliday was scarcely more presentable than Miss Winthrop, but +the latter found a certain relief in that fact. + +"I'm glad to know you," Mrs. Halliday greeted him cordially. + +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. + +"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." + +"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." + +"It was an unpleasant duty," nodded Barton, "but I hope it may be my +good fortune to make up for that." + +"I'm afraid the only place you can sit is on the front doorstep," +laughed Sally. + +"As good a place as any," answered Don, leading the way. + +"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." + +"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." + +"I hope you aren't going to take the house away from me," scowled +Don. + +"No," answered Barton slowly. "It has to do rather with an additional +provision. The 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." + +"Eh?" + +"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." + +"Oh, Sally!" called Don. + +She came running again. It was still four hours before they would be +safely married and many things might happen in four hours. + +"Sit down here and listen to this," he commanded. "Now, do you mind +saying that all over again?" + +Barton repeated his statement. + +"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." + +"Don!" + +"Well, it is." + +"And besides," she gasped, "Mr. Barton has not yet said he approves." + +Mr. Barton arose. + +"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." + +"Good old Barton!" choked Don. + +"There's one thing more," said Barton--"a--a little present for +myself." + +He handed Don an envelope. + +"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." + +"I'm not a bride yet," answered Sally demurely, "but--" + +She came to Barton's side and he kissed her on the cheek. + +"It's too bad that Pendleton couldn't have lived to know his son's +wife," he said. + +A little later Don gave Sally the envelope to open. It contained a +check for five hundred dollars. + +"Good Heavens!" exclaimed Don, "we're rolling in wealth. I guess when +we get back to town we'll have to buy a car." + +"When we get back to town we'll open a bank account," corrected +Sally. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIII + +A BULLY WORLD + + +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 +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. + +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. + +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 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. + +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. + +"Heart of mine," he whispered as he kissed her lips again and +again,--"heart of mine, this is a bully old world." + +"You've made it that, Don." + +"I? I haven't had anything to do about it except to get you." + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIV + +DON MAKES GOOD + + +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. + +"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." + +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. + +He humored her delay, though Nora was 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. + +"Gawd bless ye," she beamed. + +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. + +"Does it suit you, wife of mine?" he asked. + +With the joy of it all, her eyes filled. + +"It's even more beautiful than I thought it would be," she trembled. + +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, 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. + +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. + +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. + +"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." + +"You're right," agreed Sally. "But you won't need an alarm-clock." + +"Eh?" + +"You wait and see." + +Sally was awake at six the next morning and Don himself less than one +minute after. + +"Time to get up," she called. + +"I'm sleepy," murmured Don. + +"Then to-morrow night you'll get to bed one hour earlier. But--up with +you." + +"Right-o," he answered as he sprang from bed. "But there's no need of +your getting up." + +"I'd be ashamed of myself if I didn't." + +She had breakfast with him that first work morning as she planned to +do every morning of her life after that. + +"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." + +"I guess we can use it, little woman," he laughed. + +"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." + +"It takes half the worry with it, too," he reminded her. + +She thought a moment. Then she kissed him. + +"Maybe it's good for people to worry a bit," she answered. + +"You've already done your share," he returned. "You're going to meet +me for lunch at twelve?" + +"Yes, Don." + +"Sure?" + +"Of course, it's sure." + +"I wish it were twelve now." + +"You're not to think of me again until twelve comes--not once. You're +to tend to business." + +"I know, but--" + +She kissed him again. + +"Along with you." + +She took his arm and led him to the door and there--where, for all he +cared, the whole street might have seen him--he turned quickly and +kissed her once more. + +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. + +"You certainly put one over on us," exclaimed Blake. + +"Well, let it go at that," Don frowned. + +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. + +"Always heard bridegrooms were a bit touchy," returned Blake. + +Don stepped nearer. + +"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." + +A few minutes later Farnsworth restored his good humor. As he came +into the private office, Farnsworth rose and extended his hand. + +"I want to congratulate you, Pendleton," he said sincerely. + +"Thank you," answered Don. + +"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." + +"She taught me all I know about the game," confessed Don. + +"You couldn't have had a better teacher. Sit down. I want to talk over +a change I have in mind." + +Don felt his heart leap to his throat. + +"I've wanted for some time another man to go out and sell," said +Farnsworth. "Do you think you can handle it?" + +"You bet," exclaimed Don. + +Farnsworth smiled. + +"You see," ran on Don in explanation, "I've been selling bonds to +Sally--er--Mrs. Pendleton, for a month or more now." + +"Selling her?" + +"Imaginary bonds, you know." + +Farnsworth threw back his head and laughed. + +"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." + +"And cheap," nodded Don. + +"Well," said Farnsworth, "I want to try you on the selling staff for a +while, anyway. Now, about salary--" + +"Sally told me to forget that," said Don. + +"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?" + +"Absolutely." + +"Then we're off," concluded Farnsworth. + +Don met Sally at noon at the dairy lunch where they had gone so +often. + +"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." + +"Don!" + +"On a five-hundred-dollar raise." + +"We'll stay right here," she said; "but I'm going to celebrate by +having two chocolate eclairs." + + + + +CHAPTER XXXV + +"HOME, JOHN" + + +In December of the following year Frances came into her mother's room +one afternoon, drawing on her gloves. + +"Your new gown is very pretty," her mother said. "Where are you +calling?" + +"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." + +"You really ought to go." + +Frances became petulant. "Oh, I know it, but--after all, a baby +_isn't_ interesting." + +"They say it's a pretty baby. It's a boy, isn't it?" + +"I don't know. Why don't you come along with me?" + +"I'm not dressed, dear, but please to extend my congratulations." + +"Yes, mother." + +As John started to close the door of the limousine, Frances glanced at +her watch. + +"I wish to call at Mr. Pendleton's, but I must be at the Warrens' at +four promptly. How much time must I allow?" + +"A half hour, Miss." + +"Very well, John." + +Nora took her card, and came back with the request that she follow +upstairs. "The baby's just waked up," Nora said. + +Frances was disappointed. If she had to see a baby, she preferred, on +the whole, seeing it asleep. + +Mrs. Pendleton came to the nursery door with the baby in her arms--or +rather a bundle presumably containing a baby. + +"It's good of you to come," she smiled. "I think he must have waked up +just to see you." + +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. + +"You're sure it's convenient for me to stay?" questioned Frances +uneasily. + +"Quite," answered Mrs. Pendleton. "I--I want you to see him when he's +good-natured." + +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. + +"He has his father's eyes," said the mother. + +"There's no doubt of that," exclaimed Frances. + +"And his nose--well, he hasn't much of any nose yet," she smiled. + +"He seems very small--all over." + +"He weighed ten pounds this morning," said the mother. + +Don, Jr., was waving his arms about, rather feebly, but with +determination. + +"He is very strong," the mother informed her. "Don declares that he +has all the earmarks of a football player." + +It seemed odd to hear this other speak so 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. + +"Would you like to hold him a minute?" asked Mrs. Pendleton. + +Frances felt her breath coming fast. + +"I'm afraid I'd be clumsy." + +"Hold out your arms and I'll put him in them." + +Frances held out her arms, and Mrs. Pendleton gently laid the baby +across them. + +"Now hold him up to you," she said. + +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. + +"He wants to come back now," said the mother as she took him. + +"Good-bye," whispered Frances. "I may come again?" + +"Come often," smiled Mrs. Pendleton. + +Frances tiptoed from the room, and tiptoed all the way downstairs and +through the hall. + +As she stepped into the limousine, she said to John: "Home, please." + +"But you said you must be at the Warrens' at four," John respectfully +reminded her. + +She sank back wearily in the seat. + +"Home, John, please," she repeated. + +THE END + + + + +ZANE GREY'S NOVELS + +May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset & Dunlap's list + +THE LIGHT OF WESTERN STARS + +A New York society girl buys a ranch which becomes the center of frontier +warfare. Her loyal superintendent rescues her when she is captured by +bandits. A surprising climax brings the story to a delightful close. + +THE RAINBOW TRAIL + +The story of a young clergyman who becomes a wanderer in the great western +uplands--until at last love and faith awake. + +DESERT GOLD + +The story describes the recent uprising along the border, and ends with +the finding of the gold which two prospectors had willed to the girl who +is the story's heroine. + +RIDERS OF THE PURPLE SAGE + +A picturesque romance of Utah of some forty years ago when Mormon +authority ruled. The prosecution of Jane Withersteen is the theme of the +story. + +THE LAST OF THE PLAINSMEN + +This is the record of a trip which the author took with Buffalo Jones, +known as the preserver of the American bison, across the Arizona desert +and of a hunt in "that wonderful country of deep canons and giant +pines." + +THE HERITAGE OF THE DESERT + +A lovely girl, who has been reared among Mormons, learns to love a young +New Englander. The Mormon religion, however, demands that the girl shall +become the second wife of one of the Mormons--Well, that's the problem of +this great story. + +THE SHORT STOP + +The young hero, tiring of his factory grind, starts out to win fame and +fortune as a professional ball player. His hard knocks at the start are +followed by such success as clean sportsmanship, courage and honesty ought +to win. + +BETTY ZANE + +This story tells of the bravery and heroism of Betty, the beautiful young +sister of old Colonel Zane, one of the bravest pioneers. + +THE LONE STAR RANGER + +After killing a man in self defense, Buck Duane becomes an outlaw along +the Texas border. In a camp on the Mexican side of the river, he finds a +young girl held prisoner, and in attempting to rescue her, brings down +upon himself the wrath of her captors and henceforth is hunted on one side +by honest men, on the other by outlaws. + +THE BORDER LEGION + +Joan Randle, in a spirit of anger, sent Jim Cleve out to a lawless Western +mining camp, to prove his mettle. Then realizing that she loved him--she +followed him out. On her way, she is captured by a bandit band, and +trouble begins when she shoots Kells, the leader--and nurses him to health +again. Here enters another romance--when Joan, disguised as an outlaw, +observes Jim, in the throes of dissipation. A gold strike, a thrilling +robbery--gambling and gun play carry you along breathlessly. + +THE LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS, + +By Helen Cody Wetmore and Zane Grey + +The life story of Colonel William F. Cody, "Buffalo Bill," as told by his +sister and Zane Grey. It begins with his boyhood in Iowa and his first +encounter with an Indian. We see "Bill" as a pony express rider, then near +Fort Sumter as Chief of the Scouts, and later engaged in the most +dangerous Indian campaigns. There is also a very interesting account of +the travels of "The Wild West" Show. No character in public life makes a +stronger appeal to the imagination of America than "Buffalo Bill" whose +daring and bravery made him famous. + +Grosset & Dunlap, Publishers, New York + + + + +KATHLEEN NORRIS' STORIES + +May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset & Dunlap's list. + +MOTHER. Illustrated by F. C. Yohn. + +This book has a fairy-story touch, counterbalanced by the sturdy reality +of struggle, sacrifice, and resulting peace and power of a mother's +experiences. + +SATURDAY'S CHILD. + +Frontispiece by F. Graham Cootes. + +Out on the Pacific coast a normal girl, obscure and lovely, makes a quest +for happiness. She passes through three stages--poverty, wealth and +service--and works out a creditable salvation. + +THE RICH MRS. BURGOYNE. + +Illustrated by Lucius H. Hitchcock. + +The story of a sensible woman who keeps within her means, refuses to be +swamped by social engagements, lives a normal human life of varied +interests, and has her own romance. + +THE STORY OF JULIA PAGE. + +Frontispiece by Allan Gilbert. + +How Julia Page, reared in rather unpromising surroundings, lifted herself +through sheer determination to a higher plane of life. + +THE HEART OF RACHAEL. + +Frontispiece by Charles E. Chambers. + +Rachael is called upon to solve many problems, and in working out these, +there is shown the beauty and strength of soul of one of fiction's most +appealing characters. + +Ask for Complete free list of G. & D. Popular Copyrighted Fiction + +Grosset & Dunlap, Publishers, New York + + + + +THE NOVELS OF MARY ROBERTS RINEHART + +May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset & Dunlap's list. + +"K." Illustrated. + +K. LeMoyne, famous surgeon, drops out of the world that has known him, and +goes to live in a little town where beautiful Sidney Page lives. She is in +training to become a nurse. The joys and troubles of their young love are +told with that keen and sympathetic appreciation which has made the author +famous. + +THE MAN IN LOWER TEN. + +Illustrated by Howard Chandler Christy. + +An absorbing detective story woven around the mysterious death of the "Man +in Lower Ten." The strongest elements of Mrs. Rinehart's success are found +in this book. + +WHEN A MAN MARRIES. + +Illustrated by Harrison Fisher and Mayo Bunker. + +A young artist, whose wife had recently divorced him, finds that his aunt +is soon to visit him. The aunt, who contributes to the family income and +who has never seen the wife, knows nothing of the domestic upheaval. How +the young man met the situation is humorously and most entertainingly +told. + +THE CIRCULAR STAIRCASE. Illus. by Lester Ralph. + +The summer occupants of "Sunnyside" find the dead body of Arnold +Armstrong, the son of the owner, on the circular staircase. Following the +murder a bank failure is announced. Around these two events is woven a +plot of absorbing interest. + +THE STREET OF SEVEN STARS. + +Illustrated (Photo Play Edition.) + +Harmony Wells, studying in Vienna to be a great violinist, suddenly +realizes that her money is almost gone. She meets a young ambitious doctor +who offers her chivalry and sympathy, and together with world-worn Dr. +Anna and Jimmie, the waif, they share their love and slender means. + +Grosset & Dunlap, Publishers, New York +STORIES OF RARE CHARM BY GENE STRATTON-PORTER + +May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset & Dunlap's list. + +MICHAEL O'HALLORAN, Illustrated by Frances Rogers. + +Michael is a quick-witted little Irish newsboy, living in Northern +Indiana. He adopts a deserted little girl, a cripple. He also assumes the +responsibility of leading the entire rural community upward and onward. + +LADDIE. Illustrated by Herman Pfeifer. + +This is a bright, cheery tale with the scenes laid in Indiana. The story +is told by Little Sister, the youngest member of a large family, but it is +concerned not so much with childish doings as with the love affairs of +older members of the family. Chief among them is that of Laddie and the +Princess, an English girl who has come to live in the neighborhood and +about whose family there hangs a mystery. + +THE HARVESTER. Illustrated by W. L. Jacobs. + +"The Harvester," is a man of the woods and fields, and if the book had +nothing in it but the splendid figure of this man it would be notable. But +when the Girl comes to his "Medicine Woods," there begins a romance of the +rarest idyllic quality. + +FRECKLES. Illustrated. + +Freckles is a nameless waif when the tale opens, but the way in which he +takes hold of life; the nature friendships he forms in the great +Limberlost Swamp; the manner in which everyone who meets him succumbs to +the charm of his engaging personality; and his love story with "The Angel" +are full of real sentiment. + +A GIRL OF THE LIMBERLOST. Illustrated. + +The story of a girl of the Michigan woods; a buoyant, loveable type of the +self-reliant American. Her philosophy is one of love and kindness towards +all things; her hope is never dimmed. And by the sheer beauty of her soul, +and the purity of her vision, she wins from barren and unpromising +surroundings those rewards of high courage. + +AT THE FOOT OF THE RAINBOW. Illustrations in colors. + +The scene of this charming love story is laid in Central Indiana. The +story is one of devoted friendship, and tender self-sacrificing love. The +novel is brimful of the most beautiful word painting of nature, and its +pathos and tender sentiment will endear it to all. + +THE SONG OF THE CARDINAL. Profusely illustrated. + +A love ideal of the Cardinal bird and his mate, told with delicacy and +humor. + +Grosset & Dunlap, Publishers, New York + + + + +MYRTLE REED'S NOVELS + +May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset and Dunlap's list. + +LAVENDER AND OLD LACE. + +A charming story of a quaint corner of New England, where bygone romance +finds a modern parallel. The story centers round the coming of love to the +young people on the staff of a newspaper--and it is one of the prettiest, +sweetest and quaintest of old-fashioned love stories. + +MASTER OF THE VINEYARD. + +A pathetic love story of a young girl, Rosemary. The teacher of the +country school, who is also master of the vineyard, comes to know her +through her desire for books. She is happy in his love till another woman +comes into his life. But happiness and emancipation from her many trials +come to Rosemary at last. The book has a touch of humor and pathos that +will appeal to every reader. + +OLD ROSE AND SILVER. + +A love story,--sentimental and humorous,--with the plot subordinate to the +character delineation of its quaint people and to the exquisite +descriptions of picturesque spots and of lovely, old, rare treasures. + +A WEAVER OF DREAMS. + +This story tells of the love affairs of three young people, with an +old-fashioned romance in the background. A tiny dog plays an important +role in serving as a foil for the heroine's talking ingeniousness. There +is poetry, as well as tenderness and charm, in this tale of a weaver of +dreams. + +A SPINNER IN THE SUN. + +An old-fashioned love story, of a veiled lady who lives in solitude and +whose features her neighbors have never seen. There is a mystery at the +heart of the book that throws over it the glamour of romance. + +THE MASTER'S VIOLIN. + +A love story in a musical atmosphere. A picturesque, old German virtuoso +consents to take for his pupil a handsome youth who proves to have an +aptitude for technique, but not the soul of an artist. The youth cannot +express the love, the passion and the tragedies of life as can the master. +But a girl comes into his life, and through his passionate love for her, +he learns the lessons that life has to give--and his soul awakes. + +Grosset & Dunlap, Publishers, New York + + + + +BOOTH TARKINGTON'S NOVELS + +May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset & Dunlap's list. + +SEVENTEEN. Illustrated by Arthur William Brown. + +No one but the creator of Penrod could have portrayed the immortal young +people of this story. Its humor is irresistible and reminiscent of the +time when the reader was Seventeen. + +PENROD. Illustrated by Gordon Grant. + +This is a picture of a boy's heart, full of the lovable, humorous, tragic +things which are locked secrets to most older folks. It is a finished, +exquisite work. + +PENROD AND SAM. Illustrated by Worth Brehm. + +Like "Penrod" and "Seventeen," this book contains some remarkable phases +of real boyhood and some of the best stories of juvenile prankishness that +have ever been written. + +THE TURMOIL. Illustrated by C. E. Chambers. + +Bibbs Sheridan is a dreamy, imaginative youth, who revolts against his +father's plans for him to be a servitor of big business. The love of a +fine girl turns Bibb's life from failure to success. + +THE GENTLEMAN FROM INDIANA. Frontispiece. + +A story of love and politics,--more especially a picture of a country +editor's life in Indiana, but the charm of the book lies in the love +interest. + +THE FLIRT. Illustrated by Clarence F. Underwood. + +The "Flirt," the younger of two sisters, breaks one girl's engagement, +drives one man to suicide, causes the murder of another, leads another to +lose his fortune, and in the end marries a stupid and unpromising suitor, +leaving the really worthy one to marry her sister. + +Ask for Complete free list of G. & D. Popular Copyrighted Fiction + +Grosset & Dunlap, Publishers, New York + + + + +SEWELL FORD'S STORIES + +May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset & Dunlap's list. + +SHORTY McCABE. Illustrated by Francis Vaux Wilson. + +A very humorous story. The hero, an independent and vigorous thinker, sees +life, and tells about it in a very unconventional way. + +SIDE-STEPPING WITH SHORTY. + +Illustrated by Francis Vaux Wilson. + +Twenty skits, presenting people with their foibles. Sympathy with human +nature and an abounding sense of humor are the requisites for +"side-stepping with Shorty." + +SHORTY McCABE ON THE JOB. + +Illustrated by Francis Vaux Wilson. + +Shorty McCabe reappears with his figures of speech revamped right up to +the minute. He aids in the right distribution of a "conscience fund," and +gives joy to all concerned. + +SHORTY McCABE'S ODD NUMBERS. + +Illustrated by Francis Vaux Wilson. + +These further chronicles of Shorty McCabe tell of his studio for physical +culture, and of his experiences both on the East side and at swell +yachting parties. + +TORCHY. Illus. by Geo. Biehm and Jas. Montgomery Flagg. + +A red-headed office boy, overflowing with wit and wisdom peculiar to the +youths reared on the sidewalks of New York, tells the story of his +experiences. + +TRYING OUT TORCHY. Illustrated by F. Foster Lincoln. + +Torchy is just as deliriously funny in these stories as he was in the +previous book. + +ON WITH TORCHY. Illustrated by F. Foster Lincoln. + +Torchy falls desperately in love with "the only girl that ever was," but +that young society woman's aunt tries to keep the young people apart, +which brings about many hilariously funny situations. + +TORCHY, PRIVATE SEC. Illustrated by F. Foster Lincoln. + +Torchy rises from the position of office boy to that of secretary for the +Corrugated Iron Company. The story is full of humor and infectious +American slang. + +WILT THOU TORCHY. Illus. by F. Snapp and A. W. Brown. + +Torchy goes on a treasure search expedition to the Florida West Coast, in +company with a group of friends of the Corrugated Trust and with his +friend's aunt, on which trip Torchy wins the aunt's permission to place an +engagement ring on Vee's finger. + +Grosset & Dunlap, Publishers, New York + + + + +JACK LONDON'S NOVELS + +May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset & Dunlap's list. + +JOHN BARLEYCORN. Illustrated by H. T. Dunn. + +This remarkable book is a record of the author's own amazing experiences. +This big, brawny world rover, who has been acquainted with alcohol from +boyhood, comes out boldly against John Barleycorn. It is a string of +exciting adventures, yet it forcefully conveys an unforgettable idea and +makes a typical Jack London book. + +THE VALLEY OF THE MOON. Frontispiece by George Harper. + +The story opens in the city slums where Billy Roberts, teamster and +ex-prize fighter, and Saxon Brown, laundry worker, meet and love and +marry. They tramp from one end of California to the other, and in the +Valley of the Moon find the farm paradise that is to be their salvation. + +BURNING DAYLIGHT. Four illustrations. + +The story of an adventurer who went to Alaska and laid the foundations of +his fortune before the gold hunters arrived. Bringing his fortunes to the +States he is cheated out of it by a crowd of money kings, and recovers it +only at the muzzle of his gun. He then starts out as a merciless exploiter +on his own account. Finally he takes to drinking and becomes a picture of +degeneration. About this time he falls in love with his stenographer and +wins her heart but not her hand and then--but read the story! + +A SON OF THE SUN. Illustrated by A. O. Fischer and C. W. Ashley. + +David Grief was once a light-haired, blue-eyed youth who came from England +to the South Seas in search of adventure. Tanned like a native and as +lithe as a tiger, he became a real son of the sun. The life appealed to +him and he remained and became very wealthy. + +THE CALL OF THE WILD. Illustrations by Philip R. Goodwin and Charles +Livingston Bull. Decorations by Charles E. Hooper. + +A book of dog adventures as exciting as any man's exploits could be. Here +is excitement to stir the blood and here is picturesque color to transport +the reader to primitive scenes. + +THE SEA WOLF. Illustrated by W. J. Aylward. + +Told by a man whom Fate suddenly swings from his fastidious life into the +power of the brutal captain of a sealing schooner. A novel of adventure +warmed by a beautiful love episode that every reader will hail with +delight. + +WHITE FANG. Illustrated by Charles Livingston Bull. + +"White Fang" is part dog, part wolf and all brute, living in the frozen +north; he gradually comes under the spell of man's companionship, and +surrenders all at the last in a fight with a bull dog. Thereafter he is +man's loving slave. + +Grosset & Dunlap, Publishers, New York + + + + + +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.txt or 29654.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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