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diff --git a/47434.txt b/47434.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 8de53f7..0000000 --- a/47434.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,8346 +0,0 @@ - INFATUATION - - - - -This ebook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world 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 -http://www.gutenberg.org/license. If you are not located in the United -States, you'll have to check the laws of the country where you are -located before using this ebook. - - - -Title: Infatuation -Author: Lloyd Osbourne -Release Date: November 22, 2014 [EBook #47434] -Language: English -Character set encoding: US-ASCII - - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK INFATUATION *** - - - - -Produced by Al Haines. - - - - - - *INFATUATION* - - - BY - - LLOYD OSBOURNE - - AUTHOR OF - The Motomaniacs, The Adventurer, Etc. - - - - With Illustrations by - KARL ANDERSON - - - - INDIANAPOLIS - THE BOBBS-MERRILL COMPANY - PUBLISHERS - - - - - COPYRIGHT 1909 - THE BOBBS-MERRILL COMPANY - - MARCH - - - - PRESS OF - BRAUNWORTH & CO. - BOOKBINDERS AND PRINTERS - BROOKLYN, N. Y. - - - - - *INFATUATION* - - - *CHAPTER I* - - -Phyllis Ladd lost her mother at twelve; and this bereavement, especially -terrible to an only child, brought with it two consequences that had a -far-reaching effect on her character. An ardent, high-strung nature, -acquainted so early with a poignant sorrow, gets an outlook on the world -that is so just and true as to constitute a misfortune in itself. A -child ought not to think; ought not to suffer; ought not to understand. -Individuality, sympathy, sensibility awaken--qualities that go to make a -charming human being--but which have to be paid for in the incessant -balance of our complex existence. Phyllis' school-fellows were no -longer the same to her; she felt herself a person apart; though she -played as gaily as any of them, and chattered her head off, and tripped -blithely along Chestnut Avenue entwined in the arms of her companions, -she was aware, down in her secret heart, that she was "different." - -At twelve, then, her path diverged from the commonplace, in which, as we -all have to admit, however reluctantly, the chances for a happy life are -best. - -The second consequence of her mother's death was to bring her into -contact with a scarcely known individual--her father. This grave, -handsome man, who sat behind a newspaper at breakfast, and who was not -seen again till dinner time; who drove away every morning behind a -liveried coachman and a pair of shining bays to a region called "the -office"; whose smile and voice were always a shy delight to her--this -demigod, admired, unknown, from whom there emanated a delicious sense of -security and strength, now suddenly drew her to his heart, and became -her world, her all. - -Robert T. R. Ladd was the president of the K. B. and O. Railway. Rich -himself, and the son of a rich man, his interests in Carthage were -varied and many, engaging his activities far beyond the great road that -was associated with his name. Carthage was an old-fashioned city; and -the boys who had grown up together and succeeded their fathers were -clannish to a degree little known in the newer parts of this country. -Joe, who was prominent in electricity and gas, might want to consolidate -a number of scattered plants, and to that end would seek the assistance -of Tom and Harry and Bob. George, perhaps, in forecasting the growth of -Carthage a little too generously, was in temporary straits with his -land-scheme--well, he would ask Tom and Bob to tide him over, making a -company of himself, and taking them in. Frank and his brother, in -converting their private bank into the Fifth National--induced as much -as anything by the vanity of seeing their own names on their own -greenbacks--would feel the need of a strong local man on the new -directorate. Would Bob oblige them? "Why, with pleasure, though if -somebody else would do as well--" "Oh, we must have _you_, old fellow." - -Such was Carthage--at least the Carthage of Chestnut Avenue, of the long -lines of stately and beautiful mansions on what was called the West -Side, the Carthage that supported the Symphony Orchestra, owned the -parterre boxes at the opera, dined, drove, danced, and did business -together--as compact and jealous a little aristocracy as any in Hungary -or Silesia. Of course there was another Carthage--several other -Carthages--one a teeming riverside quarter where English was an unknown -tongue, a place black with factory chimneys, full of noise and refuse, -dirt and ugliness, where forty thousand nondescript foreigners pigged -together, and contributed forty thousand pairs of very grimy and -unwilling hands to the material advancement of the city and state. -There was a business Carthage, with banks and sky-scrapers, and vast -webs of wires that darkened the sky. There was a pleasure Carthage that -awoke only at night, blazing out with a myriad lights, and a myriad -enticements. There was a middle-class residence Carthage; a -second-class residence Carthage; an immense, poor, semi-disreputable, -altogether dreary Carthage that was popularly alluded to as "South of -the slot," the name dating from the time of the first cable-car line, -now long since discarded. - -But to return to Phyllis Ladd. - -In losing her mother, it might be said she had discovered her father. -At first perhaps it was pity, loneliness, almost terror that caused Mr. -Ladd to take this little creature in his arms, and hold her as he might -a shield. He had idolized his wife; he hardly knew how to go on living -without her; one day, in his office, as his old friend Latham was -leaving him, he had pulled open a drawer, and taken a loaded revolver -from it. "Latham," he said, with a very slight tremor in his voice, -"would you mind putting this damned thing in your pocket--I--I--find it -tempts me." - -Yes, his little daughter was a shield; he held her slim body between -himself and despair; he told her this again and again, as he sat with -bowed head and suffusing eyes in the shadow of an irrevocable happiness. -And she in whom there stirred, mysteriously, dimly, the tenderness of -the sublime love that had called her into being--she, even while she -mingled her tears with his, felt within herself the welling of an -exquisite joy. To love, to solace, to protect, here again instincts -were prematurely awakened; here again her little feet departed from the -commonplace to carry her far afield. - -In time, as weeks and months rolled on, the blow, so unendurable at -first, so crushing and terrible, softened, as such things will, and a -busy world again engrossed a busy man. But the intimacy between father -and daughter remained, and continued unimpaired. Indeed, it grew even -closer, for now laughter came into it, and gay bubbling little -confidences, and a delightful hour before bedtime, full of eagerness and -zest. Mr. Ladd, cigar in mouth, and his keen handsome face as -deferential as any courtier's, listened to the interminable doings of -Satty and Nelly and Jessie, with an enjoyment that never seemed to tire. - -He, too, had his budget of the day, which, often begun whimsically, not -seldom ended in a serious exposition of his difficulties and problems. -It amused him to state such complexities in simple language; to bring -them down, by some homely metaphor, to the comprehension of this -adorable little coquette, who tried with so many childish arts to dazzle -and ensnare him. Even at thirteen she was learning the value of drawing -out a man about himself; she was quite willing to understand the -Interstate Commerce Law, and become pink and indignant over a new -classification of "Coal at the pit's mouth"--if it meant her father -would hold her a little tighter, and give her one of those sudden -glances of approval. - -Such intercourse with a shrewd, strong, brilliant mind--to a child -naturally precocious and adaptive--could not fail to have far-reaching -consequences on her development. She caught something of her father's -independence; of his lofty and yet indulgent outlook on a universe made -up so largely of fools and knaves; learned the greatest and rarest of -all imaginative processes--to put oneself in the other fellow's shoes. -When Joe Howard turned traitor at the state legislature, and sold out -the K. B. and O. on the new mileage bill, her wrath at his duplicity -rose to fever. "Well, there's his side to it," said Mr. Ladd, with -unexpected serenity. "He hasn't a cent; he's mortgaged up to the ears; -and has a sick daughter dying of consumption. He's a well-meaning man, -and I suppose would be honest if he could. But if I were in his place, -and your life was at stake, and the doctor ordered you to some -ten-dollar-a-minute place in Colorado or somewhere, I guess I'd sell out -the K. B. and O. too!" - -And for that he got a hug that nearly choked him. - -"Money and love, my lamb," he said to her once, "those are the wheels -the old wagon runs on. Miss Simpkins will fluff you up with a whole lot -of fancy fixings--but I tell you, it boils right down to that." - -"Papa," she asked him on another occasion, with round wondering eyes, -"if it's all like that, why are you honorable and noble and splendid?" - -"I don't know," he answered, smiling. "I guess it's pride more than -anything else. Theoretically the man with the fewest scruples gets -farthest in the race; but thank the Lord, most of us are handicapped -with some good qualities that stick to us like poor relations." - -"But Miss Simpkins says that anybody who is bad gets punished for it -sooner or later. She says that was why her brother-in-law's house -burned down; because he was so uncharitable." - -"It may be so with the people Miss Simpkins is acquainted with," said -Mr. Ladd, "but it doesn't hold in the railroad business, nor anywhere -else that I have seen, and I can't help thinking she's a trifle more -hopeful than the traffic can bear!" - -This philosophy, so picturesquely expressed, so genial, so amiably -cynical, was not perhaps the best training for an unusually -impressionable mind. Miss Simpkins learned to dread Phyllis' preface: -"But Papa says--" What Papa said was often a bombshell that blew shams -to pieces; tore down the pretty pink scenery of conventional illusions; -and drove cobble-stones through the gauze that separated Miss Simpkins -and her kind from the real world beyond. It was a harsh process, and -bad for gauze. - -At first, not knowing how else to maintain a fairly large establishment, -Mr. Ladd had sought the services of a "managing housekeeper." But the -trouble with her--or rather with them, for he had a succession--was that -the "managing" was considerably overdone. They were discharged, the one -after the other, without having "managed" to achieve their one consuming -ambition, which was to capture the rich widower, and lead him to the -altar. After a while, growing weary of being hunted, and altogether at -his wits' end, he invited his unmarried sister, Henrietta Ladd, to take -the foot of his table, and a place at his hearth. - -She was a thin, plain, elderly woman, with a very low voice and a -deceptive appearance of meekness. The casual guest at Mr. Ladd's board -might have taken her for a silent saint, who, unwillingly sojourning in -this vale of tears, was waiting with ladylike impatience for a heavenly -crown. In some ways this description would have fitted Aunt Henrietta -well enough, though it took no account of a perverse and interfering -nature that was more than trying to live with. The silent saint -attempted to rule her brother and her niece with a rod of iron, and so -far succeeded that her two years "tenure of the gubernatorial chair" (as -Mr. Ladd bitterly called it), was fraught with quarrels and unhappiness. -Her tyranny, like all tyrannies, ended in a revolution. Mr. Ladd -brought his "unmarried misery"--also his own phrase--to a sharp -conclusion, and Henrietta departed with a large check and a still larger -ill-will. - -"Phyllis," he said, "I guess we'll just have to rustle along by our poor -little selves. The people who take charge of us seem to take charge too -hard. They mean well, but why should they stamp on us?--Yes, let's try -it ourselves." - -And Phyllis, not quite fifteen years old, became the acknowledged -mistress of the big house. - -In her demure head she knew that to fail would be to incur a danger that -was almost too terrible to contemplate. Her father might be persuaded -into marrying again, and the thought of such a catastrophe sobered and -restrained her. She was on her mettle, and was determined to succeed. -She had her check-book, her desk, her receipted bills. She had her -morning interviews with the cook; sent curtains to the cleaners; rang up -various tradespeople on the telephone; gently criticized Mary's -window-cleaning, and George's nails, and busied herself with these, and -innumerable other little cares, while Miss Simpkins waited in the study, -restlessly drumming her long, lean fingers on a French grammar. - -Of course, she did several foolish, impulsive things, but no more than -some little bride might have done in the first novelty of controlling a -large household. She gave a tramp one of her father's best suits of -clothes; she was prevailed upon by the servants to buy many things that -neither they nor anybody else could possibly need--including an -electrically driven knife-cleaner, and a cook's table, so compact and -ingenious, that it would have been priceless on an airship, though in -her own spacious kitchen it was decidedly out of place; and it took her -several months to discover that James was apparently feeding five -elephants instead of five horses. - -But she was quick to learn better; and with the innate capacity she -inherited from her father, she soon had everything running on oiled -wheels. And all this, if you please, at fifteen, with quite a bit of -stocking between her dress and her trimly-shod feet. - -It was seldom that her father ever ventured into the realm of criticism; -but once or twice, in his smiling, easy-going way, he gently pulled her -up. - -"I don't know much about these things," he remarked once, "but don't -there seem to be a lot of new dresses in this family?" - -"One can't go naked, Papa." - -"Admitting that, my dear, which with people of our position would -certainly give rise to comment--couldn't we compromise on--well--going -_half_-naked, and perhaps show a more Spartan spirit, besides, in regard -to our hats?" - -Phyllis' eyes filled with tears; and flushing with shame, she pressed -her hot cheek against the back of the chair she was sitting in, and felt -herself the most miserable, disgraced, unworthy little creature in the -whole world. - -Mr. Ladd's voice deepened, as it always did when he was moved. - -"My darling," he said, "don't feel badly about it, because it is only a -trifle. But it is not kind to your companions to dress better than they -do, and I am sure you do not wish them to feel envious or resentful. I -just ask you to bear it in mind, that's all, and be somewhat on your -guard." - -"I will, Papa." - -"Now come and kiss your daddy, and tell him you're not cross with him -for being such an old fuss-cat." - -"Y-y-ou are n-not an old fu-u-uss-cat, but the dearest, darlingest, -bestest--" - - -"Do you think it's right to bite a railroad president's ear?" - -"Yes, if you love him!" - -"Or muss up the only hair he has, which isn't very much?" - -"Yes, if it helps you to think." - -"What's that--_thinking_?" - -"Yes, Papa." - -"It worries me, dearest, to have you doing anything as serious as that." - -"Papa, it is serious. Listen!" - -"I'm listening," - -"I've a wonderful idea--I'm going to give a party!" - -"Splendid--hope you'll ask me!" - -"And I'm going to invite Satty Morrison, and Julia Grant, and Hetty Van -Buren, and Maisie Smith, and the two Patterson girls, and perhaps Alicia -Stewart--and we are going to have ice-cream, and lady's-fingers, and -chocolate-cake, and Christmas crackers, if I can buy them this time of -year--and, Papa, it's going to be a _hat_-party." - -"Oh, a hat-party, goodness me, what's that?" - -"To give away all the silly, extravagant hats I've bought--though I'll -have to get two new ones to make them go round--but you won't mind that, -will you?" - -"No, indeed--not for a hat-party." - -And next day the invitations were out. - -This scandalous way of bringing up an only daughter caused many people -to shake their heads. - -"It'll end in a peck of trouble for Mr. Ladd some day," said the old -cats, with which Carthage was as liberally stocked as any other great -and flourishing American city. "Mark my words, my dear, no good can -come of bringing up a girl like a wild Indian, and he'll have nobody to -blame but himself if she goes headlong to the bad." - - - - - *CHAPTER II* - - -At twenty, Phyllis Ladd was one of the prettiest girls in Carthage. A -little above medium height, slim, dark, and glowing like a rose, she -moved with that charming consciousness of beauty that is in itself -almost a distinction. The French and Spanish in her mother's southern -blood showed itself in her slender feet and hands, in her grace, her -voice, her gentle, gracious, and engaging manners. One could not long -talk to her without realizing that behind those sparkling eyes there was -a fine and highly-sensitive nature, whimsical, original and intrepid; -and to know her well was to perceive that she was one of those women who -would love with rare intensity; and whose future, for good or evil, for -happiness or disaster, was irretrievably dependent on the heart. - -In a dim sort of way she had the consciousness of this herself; her -flirtations went no further than to dance with the same partner three or -four times in the course of the same evening; and Carthage, which gave -its young people a great deal of innocent liberty--and which its young -people took with the greediness of children--in time got to consider -her, in spite of deceptive appearances, as being cold, proud, and -"exclusive." Certainly her exclusiveness drew the line at being kissed -by boisterous young men, and though their company pleased and amused -her, she refused to single out one of them for any special favor. - -"They are all such idiots, Papa," she said plaintively. "Aren't there -any real men anywhere--real men that a girl _could_ love?" - -"I'm sure I don't know," returned Mr. Ladd. "I haven't come across one -I'd trust a yellow dog to, let alone my daughter. But, frankly, I'm -prejudiced on the young-man question--anybody would be who has to run a -railroad with them!" - -"Papa," she cried, throwing her arms around his neck, and her mood -changing to one of her gayest phantasies, "let's go away together, you -and I, and see if we can't find him. The Quest of the Golden Young Man! -There must be one somewhere, and we'll look for him in every hidy-hole -in the world--in street-cars and banks, and ice-cream places, and -cellars, and factories, and mountains, and ships--just you and me, with -a little steamer-trunk--and we'll run across him in the unlikeliest -spot--and he may be a bandit in a cave, or a wild, roystering cow-boy -shooting up one of those awful little western towns--but we'll know -right off that he's our Golden Young Man--and we'll take him, and put -him in a crate, and bring him home in the baggage-car, and poke him with -a long sharp stick till he's willing to marry me!" - - -The Quest of the Golden Young Man! It began sooner than Phyllis could -ever have believed possible, and with a companion she would have been -the last to dream of. Mr. Ladd had a married sister in Washington, the -wife of a highly-placed treasury official. Mrs. Sam Fensham was a very -fashionable, energetic, pushing woman, wholly absorbed in the task of -pulling competitors off the social ladder, and planting her own -faultless French shoes on the empty rung. Brother and sister had about -as much in common as you could spread on a dime; but Robert Ladd had all -the American's admiration of ability, no matter in what direction it was -exercised; and Sally Fensham dearly loved her fraternal relationship to -the K. B. and O. - -This social strategist had volunteered one of her rare visits to -Carthage under the stress of bad financial weather. Brother Bob, who -regularly brightened her Christmas with a check in four figures, had -some peculiarities of purse and heart that Mrs. Fensham was well -acquainted with. You might dash him off a letter, slashed with -underlining, and piteous in the extremity of its _cri de coeur_, and get -nothing in reply but two pages of humorous typewriting, wanting to know -why two people, without children, could not manage to scrape along in -Washington on sixteen thousand dollars a year? - -But Brother Bob, face to face, was a very different person. If you sat -on the arm of his chair, and talked of pa and ma and the old days, and -perhaps cried a little, not altogether insincerely, over faces and -things long since vanished--if, indeed, under the spell of that grave, -kindly brother, you somehow shed your cares into an infinite tenderness, -and forgot everything save that you loved him best of any one on -earth--if--but it always happened--you did not need to give another -thought, to what, after all, was the real object of your visit. - -In a day or two, Brother Bob would say; "Sally, just how many dollars -would make you feel eighteen again, and as though you were waiting for -Elmer Boyd to take you out sleighing?" - -You could answer thirty-seven hundred, and get it as readily as a -postage stamp; and with it a look of such honest affection, such a -glisten in those fine eyes, that your words of thanks stammered a little -on your tongue. - -Well, here was Aunt Sally again--arm-chair--pa and ma--the old -days--check--and in her restless, scheming eyes the birth of a vague -idea that grew ever more and more alluring,--nothing else than to take -this very pretty niece of hers back to Washington, and enhance the -Fensham position by a splendid marriage. She had a vision of balls and -dinner-parties, all paid for by her millionaire brother; a showy French -limousine; unlimited boxes at the theater and opera; and a powerful -nephew-to-be, with a name to hoist the portcullis of many a proud social -stronghold, and allow the wife of a highly-placed treasury official to -squeeze in. The Motts, the Glendennings, the Pastors, the Van -Schaicks--the Port Arthurs of Washington society--Sarah Fensham would -assail all of them, holding before her one of their cherished sons, and -defying them to shoot. A fascinating prospect indeed, and one not -beyond realization, considering the girl's beauty, and her father's -money. - -On the subject being broached to Brother Bob, it was met with a -hostility only comparable to a Polar bear being robbed of its cub. The -whole marriage-market business nauseated him, he declared; his daughter -should never be set up on the counter to be priced and pawed over; not -only would her natural refinement revolt at it, but he inconsistently -and with much warmth announced that Carthage was full of splendid young -men, the sons of his old associates, amongst whom Phyllis should find -her husband when the time came, and a fellow worth fifty of those -Washington dudes and dough-heads. - -"It's all very well for you to talk," said Sally coldly, "but I should -say it was more for Phyllis to decide than for you." - -"She wouldn't hear of such a thing," protested Mr. Ladd heatedly. "She -is a quiet, home-loving girl, and wouldn't put herself in a show-window -for anything on earth." - -"My house is not a show-window; and what is there immodest or wrong in -her meeting the nicest men in America?" - -"Besides, she wouldn't care to leave me." - -Angry as she was, there was something in this remark that suddenly -touched Sally Fensham. She was hard and aggressive, but her heart was -not altogether withered, and under extraordinary circumstances could -even be moved. - -"My poor Bob," she said, holding the lapels of his coat, and looking up -at him; "do you not know that Phyllis may meet a man to-day at dinner, -and to-morrow at tea, and the day after drive with him for an hour in -the Park--and then what's father or mother or anything in the world if -she loves him? Bob, dear, just get it out of your head that you are -going to keep Phyllis. When the right man comes you will no more count -to her than--than that chair!--Oh, yes, of course, every girl loves her -father in a way--but you have only been keeping her heart warm--and once -it's set on fire--good-by! And, Bob, dear, listen, is it not common -sense to let her see the right kind of young men; to sift them and weigh -them a bit? Is it a marriage-market to admit none but those who are -presentable and well-bred and come of nice people? Is that a -show-window? No, it's giving a girl a chance to choose--the chance I -wish to Heaven I'd had. We simply try to get the nicest man there is, -and you are more apt to get a prize from a hundred than from six!" - -"That applies just as much to Carthage as to Washington." - -"Bob, you don't know what you've been risking. Your whole way of living -is utterly crazy. Why, anybody--_anybody_ could come here, and make -love to her, and carry her off under your nose--some awful commercial -traveler or cheap pianist with frowzy hair--Oh, Bob, girls are such -fools--such crazy, crazy fools!" - -"Phyllis isn't." - -"Was I?" - -"No, I don't think you were." - -"But didn't I marry Sam Fensham?" - -"I don't see that that--" - -Sally laughed; and it was not a pleasant laugh to hear in its -self-revelation. Sam was notoriously more successful as a treasury -official than as a husband. - -"Bob, she has to go to Washington with me, and you must put your hand in -your pocket, and do things handsomely." - -"Against her will?" - -Again Sally laughed, more harshly and cynically than before. - -"Just you ask her," she said. - - -That night Mr. Ladd did so, and saw with a sinking heart the -electrifying effect it had on her. - -Go! Why, she'd jump out of her shoes to go, and wasn't daddy the -dearest, darlingest, adorablest person in the world to propose it! And -Aunt Sally's kindness--wasn't it wonderful! She would meet senators and -ambassadors, and dance in the White House with lovely barons and counts, -and try out her French on a real Frenchman and see if he could -understand it!--A winter in Washington! What could be more exciting, -more delirious! - -Mr. Ladd affected to share her delight, and manfully concealed his true -feelings, which were altogether bitter and sad. But he was a brave old -fellow, and knew how to take his disappointments smilingly. Besides, -what claim had he to resist the inevitable? What right? What -justification? He would have bitten his tongue out before he would have -reproached her, or marred, by the slightest word, her overflowing and -girlish exuberance. It was only as they kissed each other good night -that the pent-up appeal came. - -"Don't forget your old dad in the shuffle," he said. "It's--it's going -to be very hard for him without you, Phyllis." - -Her instant contrition was very sweet to him, very comforting and dear. -In fact, he had to struggle pretty desperately to allay the storm of -tenderness he evoked.--No, no, he wanted her to go to Washington. It -was the right thing to do--the only thing to do. A girl ought to see -something of the big world before she married and settled down.--Oh, -every girl said that to herself, but you couldn't get away from the fact -that they were made for men, and men for them, and a father just held -the fort till the Golden Young Man arrived. - -How they laughed, with tears in their eyes! How infinitely precious was -the love that bound them together! Dad was never to be lost in the -shuffle--never, never; and he was to write every day, and she was to -write; and if it were a hundred Washingtons she'd come straight back to -him if he were lonely, for to her there was only one real Golden Young -Man, and that was her darling, darling father. - -Yet as Mr. Ladd shut the study door, and returned to his seat beside the -lamp, he knew in spite of himself that he had said good-by. His -guardianship was over; near, now, was that unknown man, that unknown -rival, for whose pleasure he had lavished twenty years of incessant care -and devotion. Though Ladd was hardly a believer, the wish came out with -the fervency of a prayer: "Oh, my God, let him be worthy of her!" - - - - - *CHAPTER III* - - -She did write every day; sometimes the merest snippets, sometimes long, -graphic letters, full of the new life and the new people. Her debut had -been an immense success. Eddie Phelps, a horrid, tallowy, patronizing -person, but socially a dictator, had put the stamp of his approval on -her, and she had managed to receive it and not burst--which, if Papa -only knew it, was a very remarkable feat. But, anyway, she had been -hall-marked "sterling," and was enjoying herself furiously. And the -young men were so different from Carthage, so much more polished and -elegant--and pertinacious. Washington young men simply didn't know what -"No" meant, and it was like shoveling snow to get rid of them. But Aunt -Sarah was a regular White Wings, and the poor, the detrimental, and the -fast--every one, in fact, who wasn't a first-class _parti_ with -references from his last place--got carted away before he knew what had -struck him. - -And Aunt Sally! "Why, Papa, we didn't know her at all. She is as young -as I am, and twice as eager, and dances her stockings through every -other night. Washington is divided between the people who hate her, and -the people who love her, and they put a tremendous zip into either end -of it. What she really wants is to marry me at the cold end, and -strengthen her position as she calls it; and though I say it, who -shouldn't, the cold-end young men are coming in fast. When one proposes -to me, she calls it a scalp, and looks, oh, so pleased! But if I see -any of them working up to that I try to stop him in time, though it's -awfully exciting just the same. That's why I've only three scalps to -report instead of about eight. Oh, Papa, what fun it is!" - -In time her letters began to change, and there were little signs of -disillusionment. One was almost a tract on worldliness, in which she -talked about Vanity Fair, and dancing on coffins, and the inner hunger -of the soul. There were also increasing references to J. Whitlock -Pastor, always coupled with "ideals." J. Whitlock Pastor was quite a -remarkable young man of thirty, with "a beautiful austerity," and "fine -mind." His people were immensely wealthy, and immensely -fashionable--even in Carthage there was a sacredness about the name of -Pastor--and Phyllis said there was something splendid in his taking up -forestry as a life work, and devoting himself to it, heart and soul, -when he had been born--not with a silver spoon--but with a bird's-egg -diamond in his mouth. - -If there was anything to be said against J. Whitlock Pastor, it was that -he was almost too good to be true. He wanted to leave the world better -for his having been, and all that--and seemed to have what might be -called an excruciating sense of duty. "A very quiet and rather a sad -man," wrote Phyllis, "whom one might easily mistake for a muff if one -hadn't seen him on horseback. He rides superbly, and I never saw a -ring-master in a circus who could come anywhere near him." - -All this worked up to a telegram that reached Mr. Ladd a few weeks -later: "I accepted him last night, and, Papa, please come on quick and -bless us." - -Mr. Ladd hastened to Washington as speedily as his affairs would allow, -which was five days later, and arrived just in time to dress for the -introductory dinner at Mrs. Pastor's--J. Whitlock's mother's. He tried -to imagine he was delighted, and caught his daughter in his arms with -the enthusiasm of a stage parent. But Phyllis was so pale, so calm, so -undemonstrative that he hardly knew what to make of her. He put her -cool indifference down to Washington training, but still it puzzled and -troubled him. It was so unlike a girl who had met her fate--so unlike -another pair of lovers that had been so much in his head that -day--Genivieve de Levancour, and a certain Bob Ladd. The contrast gave -him a certain sense of foreboding. - -In the carriage she was very silent, and nestled against him like a -tired child. He repeated his congratulations; he strove again to be -delighted; joked, not without effort, about the exalted position of the -Pastors, and what a come-down it was for them to marry such poor white -trash as the Ladds. Then it occurred to him that perhaps this jarred -upon her! "Forgive me, Phyllis," he said humbly. "I--I hardly know what -I am saying. I--I guess I'm trying to hide what this recalls to -me--what this means to me." - -She pressed his hand, and snuggled it against her cheek, but still -shrouded herself in reserve. - -"Papa," she said suddenly, "you'd stick to me through thick and thin, -wouldn't you? Whatever I did--however foolish or silly I might be, -you'd always love me, wouldn't you?" - -"By God, yes," he answered, "though why on earth you should ask--" - -"Only to make sure," she exclaimed, brightening. "Just to be certain -that my old-dog father hadn't changed. Now say bow-wow, just to show -that you haven't!" - -Mr. Ladd, very much mystified, and not at all comfortable in his mind, -obediently bow-wowed. It set Phyllis off in a peal of laughter, and it -was with apparent hilarity that both descended at the Pastor's front -door. - -Whitlock's mother received them in the drawing-room. She was a stately, -gray-haired woman, with a subdued voice, and a graciousness that was -almost oppressive. Her guests had hardly been seated, when J. Whitlock -himself appeared, and excused himself, with faultless and somewhat -unnecessary courtesy, for not having been found awaiting their arrival. -Mr. Ladd saw before him a tall, thin young man, of a polished and -somewhat cold exterior, with a dryness of expression that was positively -parching. Like one of those priceless enamels of the Orient, one felt -that J. Whitlock Pastor had been roasted and glazed, roasted and glazed, -roasted and glazed until the substance beneath had become but a matter -of conjecture. The enamel was magnificent--but where was the man? Mr. -Ladd, with a choking sense of disappointment, began to suspect there was -none. - -J. Whitlock opened the proceedings much as the czar might have opened a -Duma. He recited a neat, dry, commonplace little address of welcome, -and sounded a key-note of constraint and formality that was rigorously -maintained throughout the evening. The address was seconded by the -empress-dowager, and then it was Mr. Ladd's turn to swear loyalty to the -throne, and burst into cheers. He did so as well as he could, but it -was a poor, lame attempt; and when, almost in despair, he went up to J. -Whitlock, and impulsively wrung the Imperial hand, the very atmosphere -seemed to shiver at the sacrilege. - -A frigid dinner followed in a dining-room of overpowering magnificence. -There was a high-class conversation to match, interrupted from time to -time by a small British army--small in number--but prodigal of inches, -and calves, and chest-measure--who stealthily pounced on plates, -obtruded thumbs, and stopped breathing when they served you. Mr. Ladd, -smarting with an inexplicable resentment, compounded of jealousy, scorn -and chagrin, writhed in his chair, and tugged at his mustache, and gazed -from his daughter to his prospective son-in-law with melancholy wonder. - -Yet Phyllis seemed to be perfectly contented, sitting there so demure, -elegant and self-possessed at the terrible board of the Romanoffs. Mr. -Ladd could have wished that she had shown a little more assertion, a -little more--well, he hardly knew what but something to offset the -unconscious arrogance of these people, and to show them that a Ladd was -as good as they were, if not a darned sight better! But Phyllis, if -anything, was too much the other way. There was a humility in her -sweetness, her deference, her touching desire to please. To her father -she seemed to have accepted too readily, too gratefully, her beggar-maid -position at that kingly table. - -But as he watched her some doubts assailed him. He remembered how -singular she had been in the carriage, how over-wrought, and unlike her -usual self. Her eyes, fixed so constantly on her intended's, had in -them more pleading than love; more a curious, studying, seeking look, as -though she, too, was trying to penetrate the enamel, and see beneath. -But her voice softened as she spoke to him; she smiled and colored at -his allusions to "us" and "our"; she shyly referred to their projected -honeymoon in the western forests, and spoke rapturously of galloping -through the glades at the head of twenty rangers, all sunburned and -jingling and armed to the teeth. - -What was an old fellow to make of it, anyway? One could bring up a girl -from a baby, and still not know her. Mr. Ladd was very much perplexed. - -After dinner, the ladies left the two men at their coffee, and retired. -The British Army set out liqueurs, cigars, a spirit-lighter, and then -noiselessly vanished. Now that they were alone together, Mr. Ladd hoped -that J. Whitlock would unbend; hoped that the long-deferred process of -making his acquaintance would begin. He might not be an ideal -son-in-law, but it was horse-sense to make the best of him. You had to -take the son-in-law God gave you. Besides, the man that Phyllis loved -was bound to have a fine nature; and if he could unveil it to her, he -surely could unveil it to her father. So, between sips of Benedictine, -and through the haze of a good cigar, Mr. Ladd essayed the task. - -He commenced by describing his own early manhood; his courtship of -Phyllis' mother; his marriage in face of a thousand difficulties. Again -and again he faltered; it was all so sacred; his eyes were often -moist--but he persevered; he had to win this young man, and how better -than by appealing to the sentiment that unites all true lovers? The -elderly railroad president could not bear utterly to be left out of -these two young lives. His daughter was lost to him; at best a husband -leaves little for a father; this stranger had it now in his power to -make that little almost nothing. Small wonder, then, that Mr. Ladd -struggled for his shred of happiness; put pride on one side; exerted -every faculty he possessed to attract the friendship of Phyllis' master. -For a husband is a master; a woman is the slave of the man she loves; -forty centuries have changed nothing but the words, and the size and -metal of the ring. - -It used to be of iron, and was worn on the neck. - -Mr. Ladd's gaze, that had been fixed in vacancy, of a sudden fell full -on J. Whitlock's face. What he saw was an expression so cold, so -delicately supercilious, so patiently polite, that he stopped as -suddenly as though he had been struck by lightning. Was it for this, -then, that he had opened this holy of holies, into which no human being -before had ever looked,--this inmost recess of his soul, now profaned, -it seemed to him, for ever? For a second his shame transcended even his -disappointment. He had dishonored the dead, besides dishonoring -himself. He had allowed this tall, thin, bored creature to hear things -too dear, too intimate, to be spoken even to Phyllis. My God, what an -old fool he had been, what an ass! - -"Had we not better join the ladies?" inquired J. Whitlock, after the -pause had lasted long enough to redeem the proposal from any appearance -of rudeness. - -"I suppose we had," returned Mr. Ladd, in a tone as dry as his host's; -and together they both sought the drawing-room. - -A long, long hour followed before, in decency, a very flustered, -embittered, and upset middle-aged gentleman could dare to say his -adieux. From the frescoed ceiling the painted angels must certainly -have wept at the sight beneath; or, if they did not weep, they surely -yawned. The labored conversation, the make-believe cordiality, the -awful gap when a topic fell to rise no more, certainly made it an -evening that never could be forgotten. Blessed Briton who said: "Mr. -Ladd's kerridge!" Twice blessed Briton who handed them into it, and -uttered the magic word "'Ome!" - - -"Did you like him, Papa?" - -"A delightful young man, Phyllis, perfectly delightful." - -"And his mother?" - -"Charming, charming!" - -"I never saw either one of them unbend as they did to you." - -"It was a great compliment. I appreciate it." - -"You don't think I could have done better?" - -"No, indeed. Not if you love him." - -"Papa?" - -"Yes, dearest?" - -"Papa, I've done something awful. Shut your eyes, and I'll try to tell -you." - -"Phyllis, what do you--?" - -"Are they shut--tight--_tight_?" - -"Yes, but I don't--" - -"Now, don't talk, Papa, but listen like a good little railroad -president, and I'll tell you what I think of J. Whitlock Pastor, and -that is he's _unbearable_! No, no, I'm not joking--I mean it, I mean -it! He's unbearable, and his mother's unbearable, and the forty yards -around them is unbearable, and I wouldn't marry him for anything under -the sun, no, not if he was the only man in the world except the -clergyman who would do it; and Papa, I'm so mortified and ashamed and -miserable that I don't know what to do. Didn't you notice me to-night, -and how shy and crushed I was, sitting there like a little Judas, and -feeling, oh, horribly wicked and treacherous? It was _all_ I could do -not to scream out that I hated him, just as loud as I could: I hate you! -I hate you! I hate you!--I was trying to tell you that when we started, -but I didn't have the courage. I wanted you to see him for yourself; to -realize how unendurable he is; I--I--wanted you not to blame me too -much, Papa." - -To Mr. Ladd it was like a reprieve at the gallows' foot. Blame her? -Why, elation ran to his head like wine; he caught her in his arms and -hugged her; had he saved her from drowning he could not have been more -passionately thankful. His opinion of the young man came out in a -torrent of unvarnished Anglo-Saxon. To every epithet he applied to him, -Phyllis added a worse. In their wild humor, and bubbling over with a -laughter that verged on the hysterical, they vied with each other in -tearing J. Whitlock to pieces. - -"But, Phyllis, Phyllis, how did you ever come to do it?" - -"I don't know, Papa." - -"But you must have liked him?" - -"I thought I did." - -"Was it the attraction of his position--his name--and all that kind of -thing?" - -"No, I thought I loved him." - -"How _could_ you have thought such a thing?" - -"It's incredible, but I did, Papa. I loved him right up to the moment -when he kissed me. And how could I stop him after having looked down at -my toes, and said 'Yes.' He's been kissing me for five days--and, Papa, -I hate him." - -The fierceness she put into these three words was vitriolic. Disgust, -revulsion, outraged pride flooded her cheek with carmine. - -"Papa, I can't make any excuses for myself. It's not prudery; it's not -that; but somehow the real _me_ didn't like the real _him_, and that's -all I can say about it!" - -"You'll have to write to him, and break it off." - -"But what am I to tell him, Papa? It's so awful and humiliating for -him. I guess I'll just put it down to insanity in my family." - -"But, good Lord, we haven't any--we've a very decent record." - -"Oh, Papa, I simply must have been insane to have got engaged to -him.--I'll write him a beautiful letter of regret, and inclose a -doctor's certificate!" - -Her incorrigible humor was again asserting itself. She outlined the -letter, her eyes dancing with merriment. Mr. Ladd, in no mood to -criticize these swift transitions, joined in whole-heartedly. They -laughed and laughed till the tears came, and arrived home like noisy -children from a party. - -Mrs. Fensham, in a very decollete gown, and looking like a sylph of -twenty-five, was waiting for the carriage to take her to a ball. She -swam up in front of Bob, and raised her two little hands to his -shoulders--a graceful gesture, and one she was very fond of. - -"And you found him a perfect dear, didn't you?" she murmured -ecstatically. - -"Well, I don't know that I did," faltered Brother Bob, placing a kiss on -the top of her head. "The fact is, Sally, we've decided to call it -off!" - -"Bob, you haven't broken the engagement!" - -Her lisping voice turned suddenly metallic. She stared from her brother -to her niece, a sylph no longer, but a woman of forty-five, pale with -apprehension and anger. - -"Phyllis has made a mistake, that's all," he said. "He looked very nice -in the show-window, but now we are going to take him back, and get a -credit-slip for something we want more." - -"A new automobile coat for Papa," put in Phyllis mischievously. - -"And you can both laugh about it!" exclaimed Aunt Sarah in appalled -accents. "Laugh at throwing over J. Whitlock Pastor! Oh, you little -Carthage nobodies--haven't you any sense at all--don't you know what you -are doing--isn't he as much a duke with us as any Marlborough or -Newcastle in England? He was too good; he was too nice; he wasn't -enough of a snob to blow and brag--and that's what he gets for it, the -'No' of a silly girl, who'd prefer a barber's block clerk to the -greatest gentleman in America!" - -She tottered to the mantelpiece and burst into tears--the first tears -she had shed in twenty worldly and scheming years--and the only tears -that did attend the rupture of the Pastor-Ladd engagement. - - - - - *CHAPTER IV* - - -There was the usual chatter, the usual slanders, the usual innuendoes -that follow such an event. Charming little assassins, in Paquin gowns -and picture hats flew about sticking pins into Phyllis' reputation. -Those worse gossips, the clubs, were not behindhand either; and old -gentlemen, who ought to have known better, unctuously laid their heads -together and passed the lies along. It is so much the custom to dwell -on the good side of human nature that we are apt to forget the existence -of another--that cruel malignancy, which, in embryo, may be seen any -time at the monkey-house in the Zoo. In its more developed human form -it jostles at our elbows every day. - -The American duke himself behaved with a beautiful propriety. Publicly -he took all the blame on his own shoulders, and hied him to the western -wilds to scourge the campers and cigarette-smokers who infested his -beloved forests. Thus congenially employed, he was quite willing to -wait for Time's healing hand to do the rest. In a year he was -completely reenameled, and took a finer polish than ever. - -Mr. Ladd hoped that Phyllis would return to Carthage to hide her head -from the storm. But she insisted on staying in Washington, and "seeing -it through," which she did with the prettiest defiance imaginable, -returning pin for pin with gay insouciance, and dancing the night out in -all manner of lions' dens. In her veins there ran the blood of that old -aristocratic South--of those fighting-cock Frenchmen, dark, lithe and -graceful, who had loved, gambled and gone the pace with headlong -recklessness and folly; of those fiery Spaniards, more grave and still -more dissolute, to whom pride was the very breath of life, and who could -call out a man and shoot him with the stateliest of courtesy.--What a -race it had been in the heyday of its wildness and youth, the torment of -women, the terror of men, alluring even now through the haze of by-gone -pistol-smoke! And though it has been dead and gone these hundred and -fifty years, the strain yet persists in some Phyllis here, some -stripling there, attenuated perhaps, but far, far from lost. - -Even to-day such intrepidity casts its spell. The eyes that are -unafraid, the mouth that can smile in peril, do we not still admire -their possessor--and that most of all in a young, high-bred and -exceedingly attractive woman? Washington certainly did in Phyllis -Ladd--young-man Washington, that is,--and they trooped after her in -cohorts, and would have drunk champagne from her little slipper had she -let them. - - -Months rolled by. The tide of Phyllis' letters rose in Mr. Ladd's -drawer--countless pages in that fine girlish hand, full of zest, full of -the joy of living, revealing, intimate, and silent only in regard to the -most important matter of all--J. Whitlock's successor. - -Mr. Ladd knew what value to set on her assertion that she was "tired of -men." He waited, not without jealousy, for preference to show itself; -reading and re-reading every allusion that might afford a clue. If she -wrote that "the ambassador was a very kind old man, with aristocratic -legs, and a profile like a horse, who singled me out for much more than -my share of attention"--Mr. Ladd would forthwith look up that -ambassador; get his diplomatic rating; and worry about his being -sixty-six, and twice a widower. - -One day, quite out of the sky, a card was brought him inscribed, -"Captain Baron Sempft von Piller, First Attache, Imperial German -Embassy, Washington." As a rule, applicants to see Mr. Ladd had first -to state their business, and undergo a certain amount of sifting before -they were admitted. In this manner inventors were weeded out, cranks, -people with a grievance against the claims' department, book-agents, -labor-leaders, charity-mongers, bogus clergymen who had been refused -half-rates--all that host who buzzed like mosquitoes outside Mr. Ladd's -net. But the First Attache of the Imperial German Embassy was given an -open track, which he took with a military stride, and the clank of an -invisible sword. - -Mr. Ladd turned in his chair, and beheld a florid, tall, fine-looking -young man of twenty-eight or so, with the stiff carriage of a Prussian -officer, and unshrinking blue eyes that had been trained not to droop in -the face of anything. - -The captain wasted no time in preliminaries. In a carefully-rehearsed -sentence, innocent of all punctuation, and delivered in a breath, he -said: "It is not my intention to trespass overlong on the time of I know -a much-engrossed gentleman but if you will kindly grant me three minutes -I shall be happy to convince you of the integrity of my character and -the honor of my intentions Mr. Ladd Sir." - -Taking another breath that swelled out his magnificent chest at least -four inches, he resumed: "This I now lay before you is my -birth-certificate these are the reports on my gymnasium courses at -Pootledam respectively marked good very good indifferent good very good -till inspired by the thought of a military career I entered on probation -subsequently made permanent by the vote of my fellow-officers the tenth -regiment of Uhlans which after six years of honorable commendation I -left regretted by every one to place myself in the diplomatic service -Mr. Ladd Sir." - -Taking a third breath, he went on: - -"By kindly glancing at this letter which I have the honor to bear from -my esteemed chief whom I am proud also to call my friend you will see to -your complete satisfaction that I am no needy adventurer trading on an -historic and greatly-renowned name but a man of substance promise and -ability with the assurance of reaching if I live the highest place it is -in the power of my country and my emperor to grant Mr. Ladd Sir." - -He was inhaling his fourth breath when Mr. Ladd managed to interpose a -speech of his own. - -"I am delighted to see you, captain," he said, "and I shall be happy to -oblige you in any way I can. Perhaps you desire to inspect what is -really one of the most perfect double-track railroad systems in this -country, operated at the minimum of expense, and with an efficiency that -makes the K. B. and O. very favorably regarded by our public. If it -falls below the high standard of your own government-owned lines, you -must credit us with a traffic at least sixteen-fold larger per mile than -that of yours. I will ask you to bear this in mind before making too -critical a comparison." - -A boyish and most engaging smile overspread the captain's features, and -for the moment he almost forgot how to go on with the set speech he had -learned so carefully. But he stiffened his shoulders, threw back his -head, and continued, like a student up for a difficult and trying -examination: "Before paying my addresses to one whose youth beauty and -charm has taken captive a heart hitherto untouched by the sentiment of -love I judged it only right as a gentleman and a former German officer -before seeking to compromise the lady's inclination in any way whatever -to provide myself with the necessary proofs of my unassailable position -and honor and lay them with profound respect in the hands of her -highly-considered and greatly-esteemed father Mr. Ladd Sir." - -Mr. Ladd nearly fell off his chair at this announcement; but controlling -himself, he bent hastily over the papers, and managed to hide his -stupefaction. He was very much bewildered, and though favorably -impressed by Von Piller, had the American's distrust of all foreigners, -particularly if titled. The word "baron" conjured up horrible stories of -imposture and mortification; hungry fortune-hunters; shameless -masqueraders preying on credulity and snobbishness, always with debts at -home and often wives; old-world wolves ravening for the trusting lambs -of the new. - -But the ambassador's letter was most explicit, and its authenticity -could be tested in an hour. The craftiest of wolves would not dare to -take such a risk. Wonder of wonders, it seemed, too, that the baron was -rich--one of the Westphalian iron kings--with great landed estates -besides. Yes, he was certainly a very eligible young man. No harm -could be done by rising and shaking hands with him. Mr. Ladd did so, -impressively. - -"You are very punctilious," he said. "I wish we had more of that -ourselves. Your conduct is manly and straightforward, and I esteem it -highly. Frankly, I should prefer my daughter to marry an American--but -if a foreigner is to win her, I should be very happy to have that -foreigner you." - -The baron, who was now quite out of set-speeches, and had to flounder in -English of his own making, murmured: "I lofe her--oh, how I lofe her! -My friends they say, 'crazy, crazy,' but I say, 'no, this tells me I am -wise.'" - -And with that he pressed his hand to his heart, with an air of such -simplicity and devotion that Mr. Ladd was touched. - -"You're a fine young man," he said, "and I wish you luck." - -"You will speak well of me to her?--Manly, straightforward--you will say -those words?" - -"With pleasure, Baron." - -The florid face beamed; the blue eyes were shining; Mr. Ladd remembered -the tendency of foreigners to embrace, and hastened to put the desk -between them. - -"I will go now," exclaimed Von Piller. "I will what you call, get busy. -I will lay at her little feet the heart of a man that adores her!" - -"Don't be in too big a hurry," said the railroad president kindly. -"Take an old fellow's advice; begin by trying to make a good -impression." - -Von Piller smiled complacently. - -"Already have I done it," he remarked. "She likes me very mooch. The -battle is half-won, and all I need is General Papa to reinforce." - -It suddenly shot through General Papa's mind that the baron was not so -simple as he appeared. Mr. Ladd's first feeling of compassion for a -hopeless suit changed to a grinding jealousy. It was intolerable to him -that anybody should carry off his precious daughter, and this amiable -young man at once took on the hue of an enemy. Their farewell was stiff -and formal; and when, two hours later, the confirming telegram arrived -from the German embassy, Mr. Ladd hotly consigned Captain Baron Sempft -von Piller to the devil. - - - - - *CHAPTER V* - - -Von Piller had not under-estimated the "good impression." It was -certainly good enough for him to become, two days later, the successful -suitor for Phyllis' hand. The engagement was in the papers, and -everybody was happy--save Mr. Ladd. On top of his natural resentment at -any poor human biped in trousers daring to aspire to his daughter, there -were two letters from Washington that embittered him beyond measure. -The one was from Phyllis; the other from Sarah Fensham; and though very -different in expression their gist was the same. He was besought _not_ -to come to Washington. - -"Dear, darling old daddy," wrote Phyllis, "The whole thing is such -gossamer, so faint and delicate and eider-downish, that one belittling -look of yours, one unguarded and critical word--would utterly destroy -it. Of course, Sempft is not the Golden Young Man, and I know it very -well, but I really do like him lots, and if you will give it six weeks -to 'set,' as masons say, I believe that it will turn very nicely into -love. But just now--! Oh, Papa, the poor little building would topple -so easily--and you know how hard I have found it already to stay too -close to those big, greedy, grasping creatures who want to race off with -one as a poodle does with a stick. Not that Sempft isn't awfully nice -and considerate, but I know there will be times when--! Oh, Papa, be -patient, and give me a chance, for if you should hurry over and catch me -in the right humor, I would send him away so fast that he would think he -was fired out of a Zalinski cannon!" - -Sarah's letter was in a more wounding strain: "For Heaven's sake, stay -away, my dearest brother, or you will ruin everything. That girl of -yours is too fastidious and wilful for belief, and from the bottom of my -heart I am sorry for the poor dear baron, who is making such a goddess -out of an icicle. She is possessed of the same insane pride that you -have, and is quite of your own opinion that nobody is good enough for -her. After bringing her up all wrong, don't add to your folly by -breaking off a second splendid match. Stay in Carthage, and try to -acquiesce in the fact that sooner or later she is bound to marry -somebody; and thank your stars that it is somebody to be proud of. I -know she is too good for any one but an archangel, but still, steel -yourself to accept a young, wealthy, handsome, brilliant, accomplished, -high-born and distinguished son-in-law, who has the world at his feet. -Naturally to you it is an intolerable prospect. I don't ask you to say -that it is not. But for Heaven's sake, remain in Carthage, and keep -your sulks at a distance." - -After his first anger had passed, Mr. Ladd took himself seriously to -task, and forced that other self of his to admit the undeniable justice -of both these letters. He was a cantankerous, cross-grained old -curmudgeon, and the right place for a cantankerous, cross-grained old -curmudgeon was unquestionably--Carthage. If he were so utterly unable to -make allowances for youth and immaturity--and he had to assent to the -fact that he was unable--he ought, at any rate, to have the grace to -keep his fault-finding face turned to the wall. Phyllis was right. -Sarah was right. Everybody was right, except a hot-headed old fellow, -with a sick and jealous heart, who, if he did not restrain himself, -would end by marring his daughter's future beyond recall.--Yes, he would -hold himself in; he would do nothing to incur reproach; he would let -things take their course, and pretend to be a sort of Sunny Jim, -smilingly regarding events from Carthage. - -It was none too easy an undertaking, but he was sustained in some degree -by the hurried little scrawls that reached him, day by day, from -Phyllis.--It was all going splendidly. She was so proud of Sempft. He -was everywhere such a favorite. He was so high-spirited, and manly--and -so crazily in love with her. It was nice to have him so crazily in love -with her. It was nice to lead such a big, swaggering soldier by a pink -ribbon--to pin him with a little, girlish ticket marked "reserved"--to -see him jump at the mere raising of an eyebrow when some embezzling -young debutante had sneaked him away into a corner.--Then there was the -engagement ring she could not pull her glove over, with diamonds so -large and flashing that they'd light the gas; there was the gorgeous -pearl-necklace, which Aunt Sarah would not allow her to accept yet; -there was the emperor's wonderful cablegram of congratulation, all about -Germany and America, as though the two countries were engaged, instead -of merely she and Sempft. It made her feel so important, so -international--and horrid, shabby men snap-shotted her on the street -like a celebrity, walking backwards with cameras in their hands while -everybody fell over everybody to see what was going on!--Oh, yes, Papa, -she was saving it up to brag about to her grandchildren--when she was a -tiresome old lady in a castle corner, with nothing to do but bore chubby -little German aristocrats. - -Her gaiety and sprightliness never wavered. Her content, her happiness -were transparent. If her ardor for Baron von Piller seemed never to -pass the big-brother limits, it might be assumed she concealed her -feelings, and was either too shy or too modest to betray them. Mr. -Ladd, who read her letters with a microscope, noticed the omission, -and--wondered. His misgivings were not untinged with pleasure. Did she -really love this man, he asked himself again and again? It was -impossible to be certain. Had it not been for the J. Whitlock Pastor -episode he would have been in less doubt. But with this in mind, he -could not help wondering--wondering a great deal. - -The answer to these conjectures came with a startling unexpectedness. -One afternoon, on his return home, he found the front door open, and an -expressman staggering up to it with a trunk. In the hall were five more -trunks, and Henry and Edwards, both in shirt-sleeves, were departing for -the upper regions with another. Before Mr. Ladd could ask a question -there was a swift rush of skirts, an inroad of barking dogs, and a -radiant young person was hanging to his neck with round, bare arms. It -was Phyllis, her eyes dancing, her face flushed with the romp she had -been having with the dogs, her hair in wild disorder, and half down her -back. - -"I'm home, Papa," she cried, "home for good, and in such awful disgrace -you oughtn't to take me in! Yes, your wayward girl has crept back to -the dear old farm, and though the snow was deep, and all she had was a -crust from a crippled child--she's here, Papa, at last, and, oh, oh, oh, -so glad!--Down, Watch, down! Teddy, you'll get one in the nose if you -don't stop!--Oh, the little wretch has got my slipper off!" - -Teddy scampered away with it, and there was a lively tussle before it -was recovered, with all manner of laughter and slaps and growls. - -"But Captain von Piller?" demanded Mr. Ladd. "Is he coming? Is he here, -too?" - -"No, Papa," she returned, "he isn't here, and he never will be here, and -I left him screaming till you could hear it all over Washington. Just -howling, Papa, and calling for warships! And Aunt Sarah was hollering, -too, till the only dignified thing left was to tie my sheets together -and let myself out, which I did before there was a riot!" - -"Phyllis, you don't mean that your engagement--" - -"Hush, Papa, we can't talk here.--Come upstairs to your den." - -There she heaped up a dozen pillows on the divan; settled herself with -Watch's head on her lap, and Wally and Teddy beside her; asked if there -were any chocolate creams, and resigned herself to there being none; and -then, pushing back the soft, thick hair from her eyes, told her father -to sit at her feet, and not to crowd a valuable dog. - -"Yes, all that's finished," she said. "It was splendid and -international, and all that, but I could not stand it any more. He was -just like poor Whitlock, only worse. I don't know how to describe it, -Papa, for he was awfully correct and all that--I wouldn't for worlds -have you think he wasn't--only he expected all the conventional things -that go with being engaged, and wanted me to nestle against his -waistcoat, and, and--pant with joy I suppose--and whisper what a -beautiful, wonderful, irresistible, bubble-bubble-bubble person he -was--and shyly kiss his hand, probably--Oh, well, Papa, I tried to, and -I didn't like it, and in spite of myself it seemed wrong and -humiliating--and he was so large, and pink, and German, and so much of -him rolled over his collar, and everybody seemed in such a conspiracy to -poke us into dark corners and leave us there, and so finally I just -said, 'No, I've made a mistake, and here's your ring, and here's the -cablegram from the Kaiser, and here's the photograph of your dead -mother--and would you mind getting out of my life, please?--and friends -are requested to accept this the only intimation.'" - -"And how did he take it?" - -"He wouldn't take it--that was the trouble. He made a frightful fuss. -He couldn't have made more if we had been really married, and I had -announced my intention of running away with the elevator-boy! He -scrunched my hands till I thought the bones would break, and might have -thrown me out of the window if tea hadn't come in the nick of time. -Then he went off to Aunt Sarah, with the German idea of stinging up the -family--as though twenty aunts could make me love a man I didn't--and -succeeded so well that she practically drove me out. Oh, her position! -I never heard the end of it--and of course she said I had ruined it, and -that she never could hold up her head again. The only thing to do was -to run. So I ran and ran and ran--to my old dad!" - -She slipped her hand down, and held her father's collar as though he, -too, were a dog, and gave it an affectionate little tug. - -"My darling old dad," she murmured. - -"It's not so bad to have one, is it?" he said. "To know where there is a -snug harbor, and an old fellow who thinks you are perfect, and -everything you do is right. You will get a lot of criticism for this, -and I suppose Washington will boil over--but to my thinking, you -couldn't have done better, and I am thankful for your courage. If you -don't love a man, for God's sake, don't marry him, even if you're both -walking up the aisle, and he's twiddling the ring!--To tell the truth, I -wasn't a bit partial to Von Piller, and found it pretty hard to sit -tight, and be told he was forty different kinds of a paragon." - -"My darling Papa," she observed sweetly, "you're never going to like -anybody who wants to marry me, and it's sure to cost me some worry when -the right person does come.--Do you suppose he ever will?" - -"Oh, I guess so." - -"In spite of the awful record I have made? Aunt Sarah says I am branded -as a coquette, and no decent man will ever have anything more to do with -me." - -"Rubbish." - -Phyllis fondled Watch's ears, which were long and silky, and tried the -effect on dog-beauty of overlapping them on his head. - -"Papa, what's the matter with me? Why haven't I any sense? Why am I -not like other girls?" - -"You are very fastidious." - -"Yes, that's true." - -"And very proud." - -"Yes, inherited." - -"And demand a great deal." - -"Yes--everything." - -"You are in love with love--and are rather in a hurry." - -"Oh, Papa--shut your eyes--I am love-hungry. I want to love--I'm crazy -to love. Only--only--" - -"The right man hasn't arrived?" - -"I hope it's that. If it isn't, I'm going to have a bad time of it. It -seems so useless; this getting engaged and then hating the poor -wretch.--It's such a terrible waste of energy and heart-beats all -round." - -"Dad included." - -"What a nuisance I am, to be sure! I've exhausted everybody's patience -except yours, and that's getting thin. It will end in my living alone -in a shanty with nothing but dogs, and the faded photographs of the men -I've thrown over. Aunt Sarah called me an awful name; called me an -engagement-buster; said that the habit would grow and grow till I was a -horrid old maid with nothing to tease but a parrot.--Though I'd love to -have a parrot--two of them--and raise little parrots! Little fluffy baby -parrots must be adorable. Papa, let's buy a pair to-morrow, and you'll -teach the he-one to swear, and I'll teach the she-one to be gentle and -submissive and always have her own way. And Papa--?" - -"Yes, dearest?" - -"You aren't cross with me, are you?" - -"Not a bit." - -"And I may live with you, and add up your bills, and bring you your -slippers, and dream all day of that Golden Young Man who doesn't exist?" - -"Oh, don't say that--He does, Phyllis." - -"Papa, he doesn't, he doesn't, he doesn't!" - - - - - *CHAPTER VI* - - -Socially speaking Carthage was as distant from Washington as is -Timbuctoo. While the Von Piller hurricane was raging in the nation's -capital, the Carthage barometer showed "fair and rising." To a -storm-tossed little mariner, it was like gaining the lee of some palmy -isle, and casting anchor in still water. The islanders, too, if a -trifle homespun and provincial, were the most delightful people, and -unspoiled by any intrusion of a higher civilization. Phyllis had not -realized how entirely her outlook had changed until she returned to her -own home. She saw her former school fellows with new eyes, and while -she could not forbear smiling at some of their ways, she liked them -better than ever before.--They, on their side, regarded with awe this -fashionable young beauty, who had jilted a Pastor, and given the mitten -to a real, live, guaranteed baron, and who had descended in their midst, -like a racer in a paddock of donkeys. - -Some of them felt very donkeyfied indeed. Tom Fergus, a gelatinous -young man, somewhat forward and familiar, who was alluded to in the -local papers as "one of the leaders of the younger set" said she was -"raving pretty, but, my stars, what was a fellow to talk to her about?" -Billy Phillpots, who worked in his father's store (many of the young -fellows "worked in his father's store") vetoed her as "insufferably -stuck up," he having escorted her home one night, and failed to extort -the usual toll at the garden-gate.--The good night kiss at the -garden-gate was quite a Carthage institution, and as innocent as the -kiss of an early Christian. - -Life in Carthage was altogether Early Christian--for the young people of -the better families. They met every night, and moved in flocks, like -sparrows, alighting first in one house and then another--taking up the -carpets for dancing, improvising suppers, crowding round the fireplaces -to sing, and tell stories. Presumably there was some social line drawn -somewhere; but money at least counted for little, and anybody that was -"nice" was allowed in. And it must be said, on the whole, that they -were remarkably "nice," and very much a credit to high-class democracy. -The boys were well-mannered, brotherly and respectful; the girls -charming in their blitheness and gaiety. Occasionally there was a -match, and a couple disappeared as completely as though they had fallen -into the river and been swept away. You couldn't marry, and still be a -sparrow. No, indeed! You passed into another world, and six months -after the sparrows would hardly know you on the street. One would not -venture to say this was cruel--though it always came as a shock to the -newly-wedded pair--it was just the sparrow way, that's all. - -Phyllis was soon flying with the rest of them, and her ready -adaptability caused her to be accepted in their midst without more than -a passing hesitation. Hiding her riper and more womanly nature, and -absorbing herself in this animated triviality, she pretended to be as -much a sparrow as any of the flock, and no less lively and empty-headed. -She was lonely, heart-tired, and very much adrift on the sea of life; -and in the engaging childishness of these girls and boys, who, though of -her own age, were mentally only up to her elbow, she found a sort of -solace, a sort of peace. They kept her from thinking; their chatter and -good spirits were exhilarating; the naive admiration of the young men -warmed, and yet did not disturb her.--Before her long flight to other -skies, the little bird might well be thankful for the sparrows. - -Spring came--summer. Her twenty-first birthday passed in the -Adirondacks, where her father had a cottage in that wilderness of woods -and lakes. She was in her twenty-second year now, and knew what it was -to feel old--oh, so old! That she was able, by the laws of the land, to -buy and hold real-estate seemed but a poor set-off to this encroachment -of time--though her father repeatedly pointed out this new privilege the -years had brought. She could marry, too, without his consent--another -empty concession to maturity, considering there was no one to marry with -or without it. Of course, there were a few silly babies running after -her as though she were a woolly sheep--but no one that the wildest -stretch of imagination could consider a man. Some of their fathers ran, -too--stout widowers panting with the unaccustomed exertion,--but that -was grotesque and disgusting. Far or wide, high or low, there wasn't a -pin feather of the Golden Young Man. His noble race was extinct. He -lived in books, but you never met him. Never, never. He had died out a -million years ago, leaving nothing save a tradition for poets and -novelists to paw over. - -Quite convinced that it was a wretched world, Phyllis danced and rode, -picnicked and camped out after deer in a bewitching Wild West costume, -and was always the first to a party, and the last to leave it--all very -much like one who found it tolerable enough. Some would have called her -an insatiable little pleasure-seeker, and been wholly misled. "What are -any of us doing except waiting for a man?" she once announced with -shocking candor. "It's the fashion to talk of 'other interests' and we -girls are all graduating, and slumming, and teaching little foreign Jews -to sing '_My Country 'Tis of Thee_, and _Columbia_, _Gem of the Ocean_, -and learning to be trained nurses and bacteriologists--just in the -effort to save our poor little self-respect. We ruin our complexions, -dim our eyes, and spoil our nice hands--all the property of some future -lord and master, whom we really are pilfering--and who's deceived? Who -takes it seriously? We don't, who do it. Poof, what a pretense it -is!--If you have to wait, why not two-step through it as I do, and be as -happy as you can, like people snowed up in a train. That's what a young -girl is--snowed up--and I only wish some one would come with a spade and -dig me out!" - -These racy confidences entertained and delighted her father, but on -other people they often had a contrary effect. The truth from the lips -of babes and sucklings, however phenomenal, is also disconcerting. Old -women, who in private taught their daughters a revolting cynicism, and -called it "putting them on their guard," were much overcome by Phyllis' -frankness. It was "bold"; it was "unladylike"; it was "dreadful." They -tore Phyllis to pieces, and prophesied the most awful things. It may be -that they were right. Selfishness is a fine ballast, and an anxious -regard for number one keeps many a little ship on an undeviating course. -Phyllis was made to smart for her unconventional sayings, and they often -came back to her, so distorted and coarsened by their travels, that her -cheeks flushed with anger. - -"There's one thing I am learning fast," she said, "and that is, all my -friends seem to be men, and all my enemies, women--and I may as well get -used to it now. I know there are a few exceptions either way, but it's -substantially that, anyhow, and one might as well face up to it, and -save trouble." - -"I'm afraid you are what they call a man's woman, my dear," said Mr. -Ladd. - -"I'm glad of it," exclaimed Phyllis saucily. "I don't want to be any -other kind of a woman, least of all one of those sneaking, cowardly, -backbiting, hypocritical things. I don't wonder they used to whip them -in the good old days. If men hadn't degenerated so terribly, they'd be -whipping them now!" - - -Autumn saw her back in Carthage again. Aunt Sarah was begging to have -her for another Washington winter, and was in a beautifully forgiving -humor. The breaches in her social position had been repaired, and the -Demon Want, confound him, was knocking loudly at the door of her elegant -establishment--so that the hope of another visit, with its accompanying -shower of Brother Bob's gold, loomed very attractively before these -cold, blue eyes. But Phyllis could not be beguiled; she had no wish to -repeat that mad winter; her mood was all the other way--for her big -tranquil house, her books, her dogs, her horses, and long dreaming hours -to herself, undisturbed. She had loved Washington, and had exhausted -it. The strain of its business-like gaiety was not to be endured again. -It was a factory of pleasure, and the hours over-long, the tasks -over-hard. Aunt Sarah might ring the bell all she wished, but the -factory that winter would be one toiler short. When a person has -entered her twenty-second year, that advanced age brings with it a -certain serenity unknown to wilder twenty. You are glad to lie back -with a dog's head in your lap, and lazily watch the procession. Silly -young men, choking in immense collars, no longer can keep you out of bed -till three A.M. Let the new debutantes have that doubtful joy. -Twenty-two preferred her book, and her silent rooms.--Not that Carthage -was without its simple relaxations, but they were well spaced out, with -long intervals between. - - -"Miss Daisy wants you on the 'phone, Miss." - -"Oh, all right--I'm coming.--Hello, hello, hello--What a dear you are to -ask me--A--matinee Wednesday? Love to!--What's it to be?" - -"Oh, Phyllis, you won't be offended, will you, but I'm so poor, and -their boxes are only five dollars, and will hold six, and they've -promised to squeeze in three more chairs--and so I've invited nine--and -it's in that cheap, horrid Thalia Theater, but nobody can hurt us in a -box, and everybody says the play's wonderful, and you can eat peanuts, -which you can't do in a real theater; and it's _Moths_, by Ouida, and -Cyril Adair is the star, and he is so wonderfully handsome--oh, you must -have seen his pictures in the barber-shop windows--and anyway, even if -he isn't, the play is delightfully wicked--because I had such a fight -with mama about it, and then Howard has been twice, which he wouldn't -have done if it wasn't; and even if it isn't, how am I to give a -theater-party on no more than five dollars? The Columbia boxes are -fifteen, and so are the Lyceum's, and when they say six, it's six, and -you simply couldn't dare to ask nine girls because they wouldn't let -them in. But the Thalia man was so pleased and impressed that I believe -he would have included ice-cream if I had asked him--and Phyllis?" - -"Yes, darling." - -"It would give such a lot of ginger to it, if you would lend me your -carriage and the dog-cart--! Oh, I knew you would! What a comfort you -are, Phyllis. I don't know how I'd get along without you, you are -always so generous and obliging. Nettie Havens has volunteered tea at -her house--just insisted on it when I told her. I guess that poor little -five never went so far in all its little history! I can't think it ever -ran a whole theater-party before, with carriages and teas. It's an awful -tacky way of doing things, I admit, but what does it matter if we have a -good time?--Yes, that's the only way to look at it, and you're a -darling. Do you know I think Harry Thayre is sweet on--! Oh, bother, -she says I've to ring off, or pay another nickel. If it was a man she'd -let him have fifteen cents' worth! Well, good-by, good-by--!" - - -It was a pretty sight they presented in their box, a veritable -flower-bed of young American womanhood. The bright, girlish faces, the -laughter, the animation, the sparkling eyes, the ripples of merriment, -the air of innocent bravado--all were in such contrast to the usual -patrons of the Thalia that the house could not take its eyes off them. -It was essentially a shop-girl-and-best-young-man theater, with a -hoodlum gallery, and a general appearance of extreme youth. Those who -did not chew gum were almost conspicuous, and a formidable young man -with a voice of brass, perambulated the aisles with a large tray, and -terrorized nickels and dimes from the pockets of swains. He had a -humorous directness that made the price of immunity seem cheap at the -money. It was worth a dime any time to escape him. - -And the play? - -It was a rousing love-story, crude, stilted, old-fashioned, but -developed with a force and earnestness that Ouida has always possessed. -The brutal Prince, the ill-used Princess, Correze, the idol of the -public, the tenor whose voice has taken the world by storm, heart-broken -and noble in his hopeless love--here were full-blooded situations to -make the heart beat. And how nine of them _did_ beat in that crowded -box. And what scalding tears rolled down those youthful cheeks! And -what little fists clenched as the Prince, passing all bounds, and -incensed to frenzy, struck--positively struck--the adorable being who -was clinging so desperately to honor and duty! Who could blame Correze -for what was to follow? Assuredly not our nine rosebuds, who, if -anything, found the splendid creature almost too backward, too -self-sacrificing. But--! - -And Cyril Adair, who played Correze with a fervid pathos that tore the -heart out of your breast! Of course, you knew he had taken the world by -storm. Of course you knew the public idolized him. Wasn't he the -handsomest, manliest, most chivalrous fellow alive? Hadn't he a voice -to melt a stone, or drive, as cutting as a rapier, through even a -Prince? His firm chin, his faultless teeth, his strange, smoldering, -compelling eyes, his vigorous yet graceful frame--small wonder that the -Princess threw everything to the winds for such a man. Under the -circumstances none of the nine would have waited half so long. The -Princess' devotion to honor and duty seemed hardly less than morbid. -Her patience under insults was positively exasperating. She clung to -respectability with both hands--screamed, raged, but stuck to it as -tight as a limpet--until a blow in the face, and the vilest of epithets -from her brutal husband, toppled her finally to perdition--that is, if -it were perdition to link the remainder of her life with that glorious -being, and abandon everything for love. - - -The box applauded wildly, and led off the whole house. The curtain was -made to rise again and again. Correze, advancing to the footlights, was -left in no doubt as to where he had scored his heaviest hit, and -rewarded those eager, girlish faces with a glance of his fine eyes, and -a bow intended for them alone. Phyllis was the least enthusiastic of -the party, and her silence during the first intermission was noisily -commented on. She ate caramels slowly, and added nothing but -monosyllables and an enigmatic smile to the rapturous demonstrations of -her companions. But had they noticed her during the further course of -the performance, they might have had something else to wonder at. With -parted lips, and breath so faint that she seemed not to breathe at -all--with a face paling to marble, and poignant with a curious and -unreasoning distress, her eyes never quitted those of Cyril Adair, and -fixed themselves on his in a stare so troubled, so fascinated, that her -soul seemed to leave her body and to pass the footlights. - - - - - *CHAPTER VII* - - -The tea that followed was but a blurred memory, a confused recollection -of noise and chatter, with a stab at the heart every time the actor's -name was mentioned. She was thankful to get home, and lock herself in -her room. She was in a tumult of shame, agitation, and an exquisite -guilty joy. She partly undressed, and threw herself on her bed, -shutting her eyes to win back the face and voice that had moved her to -the depths. What had he done to her? A few hours before she had never -known of his existence. The merest accident had revealed it to her, and -now he was causing the blood to surge through her veins, and mantle her -cheeks with dishonor. For it was dishonor. Everything in her revolted -at such a position. His preposterous name struck fiercely on her pride -and her sense of the ridiculous--Cyril Adair! How could any one, -masquerading under such an egregious alias, dare to give her a moment's -concern. She burst out laughing at herself, a contemptuous and bitter -laugh. Cyril Adair! No dazzled little housemaid could have been -sillier than she. - -Yet his face haunted her, the tones of his voice, that strange, -smoldering look in his eyes. How greedily that dreadful woman had -kissed him! Those were no stage kisses. Before a thousand people she -had abandoned herself to his arms, and fastened that painted mouth to -his in an ecstasy. The audience thought it was acting. Phyllis, with a -keener perception, saw the truth, and it made her savage with jealousy. -That dreadful woman was shameless, crazy, beside herself. She had wooed -him with every fiber of her body, pressing his head to her bosom, using -every artifice to inflame him, and what had brought down the thunders of -the house had not been a delineation of passion, but the naked thing -itself. - -It was horrible. Actors and actresses were horrible. No wonder they -were despised even while they were run after. No wonder their lives -were notorious. How could it be otherwise when--? But she envied that -woman. Yes, she envied that woman, terrible as it was to admit it. -Hated her, and envied her.--No, she pitied her as one of her own silly, -headlong sex, cursed with this need to love. She was no longer young; -she was thirty years old if a day; she was probably poor, disreputable, -with nothing in the world but a trunk full of trashy finery, and no home -but a cheap hotel. Love was the only thing she had, poor wretch, the -only thing. - -And Cyril Adair? It was hard to imagine him in private life except as -Correze. But, of course, he wasn't Correze--that was absurd. Perhaps -he would be so changed that one would scarcely know him on the street. -She had heard of such disillusions--of tottering old men playing -boys--and wasn't Bernhardt sixty? But a woman can tell, a woman -who--who--cares. That vigorous manhood was no made-up pretense; such -freshness, such warmth, such grace, could not be affected; he was -certainly not much more than thirty, on the border line of youth and -early-maturity when men, to her, possessed their greatest charm. - -Lying there, in a swoon of shy delight, she allowed her fancy to fly -away in dreams. Hand in hand, they trod a fairy-land of love and -rapture. She stole sentences from his part, and made him repeat them to -her alone--avowals, passionate and tender, in all the mellow sweetness -of the voice that still reechoed in her heart. He was Correze, and she, -in the madness of her infatuation, had forced her way to him and thrown -herself humbly at his feet. His love was not for her; she aspired to no -such heights; but she had come to be his little slave; to follow him in -his wanderings; to sleep across his door, and guard him while he slept. -To be near him was all she asked. His little slave, who, when he was -dejected and weary, would nestle beside him, and cover his hand with the -softest kisses. She wanted no reward; she would try not to be jealous -of those great ladies, though there would be times when she could not -hold back her feelings, and his hand, as she drew it across her eyes, -would be all wet with tears. - -With her maid's knock at the door there came a sudden revulsion. -Phyllis called to her to go away, unwilling to be seen in her -defenselessness, and fearful of she knew not what. But the spell was -broken. The bubble of that pretty fantasy vanished at one touch of -fact. Harsh reality obtruded itself, and with it a pitiless -self-arraignment. She had been swept off her feet by a third-class -actor, in a third-class play, full of mawkish sentiment and unreality, -in a third-class theater where they chewed gum, and ate apples while -they wept over the hero's woes! A wave of self-disgust rose within her. -She felt soiled, humiliated. How dared this cheap, showy creature reach -out to take such liberties with a woman a thousand times above him? A -creature, who in all probability ate with his knife, carried on low love -affairs with admiring shop-girls, and practised his fascinations before -a mirror, like a trick-monkey! Pah, the thought of her amorous -imaginings reddened her cheeks, and consumed her with bitterness and -shame. Where was her self-respect, her modesty? If wishes could have -killed, there would have been no performance of _Moths_ that night at -the Thalia Theater. - -At dinner she convulsed her father with an account of the play, in which -neither Adair nor the audience were in any way spared. In her zest and -mockery, it all took on a richly humorous aspect, and at times she was -interrupted by her own silvery peals of laughter. To hear her, how -could any one have guessed that she had been stirred as she had never -been stirred before, and that the screaming farce she described had been -in reality the one drama that had ever touched her? Was it in revenge -for what she had suffered? Was it perversity? Or was it the attempt to -conquer a physical attraction so irresistible that it tormented and -terrified her even while she fought it with the best of all -weapons--derision? - -She passed a wretched night, tossing and turning on her bed in a whirl -of emotions. She was haunted by that face which appeared to regard her -with such reproach. Why had she betrayed him, it seemed to ask? The -smoldering eyes, compelling always, were questioning and melancholy. -That look, of such singular intensity, and with its strange and -mysterious appeal to some other self of hers, again asserted its -resistless power. She felt herself slipping back, in a langour of -tenderness, to the mood that had shocked her so much before. In vain -she repeated the saving words--threw out those little life-buoys to a -swimmer drowning in unworthy love--"third-class actor"--"matinee -hero"--"shop-girls' idol."--The drowning swimmer continued to drown, -unhelped. The life-buoys floated away, and disappeared. Engulfing -love, worthy or unworthy, drew down her spent body to the blue and -coraled depths, and held her there, fainting with delight. - -In our secret hearts, who has not, at some time or other, felt an -unreasoning desire for one all unknown. Is love, indeed--true love, -anything else? Glamour and idealization--we would not go far without -either, and many, hand in hand, have trod the long path to the grave, -and died happy with their illusions. Nature, to screen her coarser -intent, fools us, little children that we are, with these pretty and -poetic artifices. May it always be so, for God knows, it is an ugly -world, and it does not do to peer too curiously behind the scenes. - - -There was a Mrs. Beekman that Phyllis knew, the widow of a distinguished -lawyer, left with nothing, who had bravely set herself to earn her -living as a milliner. It was to the credit of Carthage that Mrs. -Beekman's altered fortunes had not impaired its regard for her. She -kept her friends in spite of the "Hortense" over her shop, and a window -full of home-made hats, which, of themselves, would have amply justified -ostracism. It was no new thing for Mrs. Beekman to act as chaperon, and -repay, in this small measure, many kindnesses that verged on charity. -So she was not surprised, though much pleased and excited, when Phyllis -telephoned, and asked her to go with her to the theater. "I liked the -play so much I want to see it again," trickled that tiny voice into her -ear, "and though it's at that awful Thalia Theater, we can sit in a box, -and be quite safe and comfortable.--May I call for you a little after -eight, dear?" - -Mrs. Beekman, who was an indefatigable pleasure-seeker, consented with -effusiveness. Phyllis was a darling to have thought of her. One of her -girls had told her the play was splendid, and that the star--oh, what -didn't she say about the star! Was Phyllis crazy about him, too? Hee, -hee, all alike under their skins, as Kipling said! Not that she liked -Kipling--he was so unrefined--but Miss Britt (you know Miss Britt, the -silly one, with poodle eyes, and a poodle-fool if ever there was one) -Miss Britt raved for hours about his "somber beauty." Wasn't it -killing! If Adair wanted to, he could leave town with two box-cars of -conquests! My, the milliners wouldn't have a girl left, and the -ice-cream parlors would all have to shut.--At eight, dear?--And dress -quietly so as not to attract attention? Hee, hee, it was quite a lark, -wasn't it? - - -Sitting in the same box, on the same chair, but with a feeling as though -years had elapsed since she had last been there, Phyllis again saw the -curtain rise on _Moths_. The impulse that had brought her, the mad -desire to see the man who had tortured her so cruelly, had changed to a -cold critical mood, to a disdain so comprehensive that it included -herself no less than Adair. Dispassionate and contemptuous, it cost her -no effort to steel herself against his first appearance. His mouth was -undeniably rather coarse; she detected a self-complacency beneath his -Correze that his acting failed to hide; she saw his glance seek the -back-benches with a satisfaction at finding them filled, that struck her -as somehow greedy and tradesmanlike. What a disgusting business it was -to posture and rant, and choke back sham tears, and mimic the sacredest -things in life--and watch back-benches with an eye to the evening's -profits! The wretchedest laborer, with his pick and shovel, was more of -a man. At any rate he did something that was dignified, that was useful -and wanted. He was not framed in cardboard; there was no row of lights -at his honest, muddy feet; his loving was a private matter, and when he -kissed he meant it.--How fortunate it was that she had come! How -unerring the instinct that had brought her back to be cured! - -But as the play proceeded such reflections were forgotten in the -intensity of her absorption. Again she was leaning forward with parted -lips; rapt, over-borne, lost to everything, and pale with an -indescribable tumult of emotion. She was conscious of no audience; of -naught save the man who held her captive with a power so absolute and -irresistible that birth, training, pride, weighed as nothing in the -balance. His voice pierced her heart; his eyes seemed to draw the soul -from her body; she trembled at her own helplessness, though the -realization of it was also a strange and intoxicating pleasure. - -But intermingled with that pleasure, darting through it like a tongue of -flame, was a jealousy of Miss de Vere that not even the bitterest of -contempt could allay. Phyllis felt to the full the degradation of being -jealous of any one bearing so preposterous a name. Lydia de Vere! Her -lips curled at herself. Oh, that shoddy affectation of aristocracy! -Lydia de Vere! And that in a ten-twenty-thirty cent theater, and hardly -clothed above the waist; and yet, in spite of her painted face, her dyed -hair, and all of her thirty years, with shoulders and breast that a -duchess might have envied, she was handsome in her common, flamboyant, -chorus-girl way, with the meaningless good looks that one associates -with tights and gilt spears. Her acting was stilted and false; her fine -ladyism an impossible assumption; she railed at the Prince in the -accents of a cook giving notice. But her love for Correze taxed no -histrionic powers. It was vehement and real, as were the kisses she -bestowed so freely, and the caresses she lingered over with voluptuous -satisfaction. Beneath the drama of fictitious personages was another of -flesh and blood, like a splash of scarlet on a printed page. - -What fury and anguish lay pent up in one girlish bosom! What a -suffocating sense of defeat, bitterness and shame!-- To burn with -jealousy of such a woman was more lowering than to-- No, she would not -admit that word to herself. It was folly, infatuation, madness--but not -love. It would pass with the swiftness it had come, leaving her in -wonder at herself, though the scar would remain for many a long day. -This man was robbing her of something that never perhaps could be -altogether replaced. How wicked it was, how unjust--she who had done -nothing to tempt the lightning! She hated him for it; she clenched her -teeth and defied him; she understood now what she had read in books that -there are men the mind scorns even while the body surrenders. But she -was made of stronger stuff; she had pride and courage; her pearls were -not for swine to trample on. She would put him out of her head for -ever. - -It was terrible how he always got back again. There were tones in his -voice that melted every resolution. If ever laughter was music, it was -his, and the contagion of it swept the house; and his face, though not -handsome in the accepted sense, was striking in the effect it gave of an -untamed, extraordinary and powerful nature, only half revealed. What -was pride or courage or anything? What availed the hatred of that -hotly-beating little heart? Had he not but to look her way to make it -his own? Had he crushed it in his hand, would it not have died of joy? -Hatred, resentment, outraged self-respect--words, nothing but words. - -As the house streamed out she waited in dread for Mrs. Beekman's -criticism. However desperately she might belittle Adair to herself, -Phyllis shrank from hearing condemnation on other lips. The pride that -had failed so utterly to defend her, had taken sides with the enemy, -devotedly, passionately. Judge of her surprise, then, her pleasure and -relief, when Mrs. Beekman said to her solemnly: "Phyllis, that man's a -genius! He's perfectly splendid!" Misunderstanding her companion's -silence, and thinking it implied dissent, she went on with a note of -argument in her voice. "Of course one can feel somehow that he has had -no advantages--that he has probably never been within ten miles of the -people he is trying to represent--(do you remember his shaking hands -with his gloves on?)--but just the same he has a wonderful and -magnificent talent, and we'll hear of him as surely as the world heard -of Henry Irving, or Booth, or Bernhardt. Truly, Phyllis, I believe the -day will come when we'll be bragging of having admired Adair before he -was famous; that is, if you feel like me about it," she added -doubtfully. - -"I do, I do!" cried Phyllis. "I've never seen anybody on the stage I've -liked as much." - -"Well, I have," said Mrs. Beekman candidly. "He certainly suffered from -being with all those idiots, and I don't like that fling-ding walk of -his.--I guess he's about five years short of the winning-post, but we'll -see him romp in as sure as my name's Emma Beekman." - -"Romping in" jarred somewhat on Phyllis' ear, but all the same Mrs. -Beekman's admiration was very sweet to her, and in a queer sort of way -was comforting and reassuring. There was dignity in idolizing a genius; -it raised her in her own good opinion. - -She forgot the apples and the chewing-gum; she forgot even Miss de Vere; -a mantle of unreasoning happiness enveloped her, and with it came a gush -of affection for Mrs. Beekman that quite astonished the latter. She -held her hand in the dark, and tried, with many unseen blushes, to keep -the one subject uppermost. To lie back in the carriage and hear Adair -praised, thrilled her with delicious sensations. She was insatiable, -and kept the milliner repeating "genius, genius, genius," like a parrot. -It cost her an order for a twenty dollar hat, but what did she care? -She would have given the clothes off her back in the extravagance of her -desire. Fortunately Mrs. Beekman was nothing loath, and would have -chattered for ever on this entrancing topic. "I guess we're as bad as -my girls," she said, with her good-natured laugh, "and he could put us -both in the box-car, too, if he had the mind." - -"I shouldn't care if I was the only one," returned Phyllis gaily, "and -anyway, I've always loved traveling!" - -"It would be to the devil," said Mrs. Beekman half-seriously. "That's -where such men come from, and that's where they go back--and if you -could follow round the circle, I guess you'd find it mile-stoned with -silly girls." - -"Oh, if I went, I would stay to the end," cried Phyllis. "No putting me -off at a way-station. I'd take a through ticket." - -"And get there alone," put in Mrs. Beekman. "Men like that don't go far -with any girl. They are a power for mischief, and they weren't much -wrong in the old days to run them out of town--vagabonds and strolling -players, you know. I guess in those times they used to take chickens, -too, and anything portable. A bad lot, my dear, and they aren't any -better to-day." - -This was a poor return for a twenty-dollar hat, and without knowing -exactly why, it made Phyllis exceedingly miserable. She felt a -diminishing affection for Mrs. Beekman; and the world altogether -suddenly took on a cold and dismal aspect. Her spirits were not revived -by finding her father sitting up for her. - -"What was the play?" he asked, taking her wraps. - -"_Moths_, Papa." - -"What? Twice?" - -"Oh, I thought it would amuse me to see it again, and besides, Mrs. -Beekman preferred it to anything else in town, and I really went for her -sake, you know. It's a charity to take her out sometimes; her life is -so monotonous, and one feels so sorry for her." - -Mr. Ladd waited, smiling in advance, for another humorous take-off of -the piece. But there was no fun in Phyllis that night. She drank a -glass of water, kissed him good night, and went silently up to bed. - -"She doesn't seem very well," he thought, with a shade of concern, and -remembered that she had been pale and tired for some days past. "If she -doesn't pick up in a day or two, I believe I'll get the doctor." - -Had he seen her an hour later, his misgivings would have increased. -Kneeling beside her bed, her face crushed in the coverlet, she was -weeping softly and heart-brokenly to herself. - - - - - *CHAPTER VIII* - - -Friday, the day that followed, was memorable to her for its decisiveness -and remorse. She took a long ride, and between canters, busied her head -with plans of escape. Washington, Florida, Europe--it mattered little -where--so long as she got away at once. She looked at herself -dispassionately, and the more she looked the more utterly despicable did -she seem. She was undoubtedly in love with this cheap, showy -actor--(somehow in the sunshine his genius had withered, and he seemed -to share the general tawdriness of gum and apples and shop-boy -sentiment)--crazily in love, infatuated; and to refuse to admit it was -but to hide her head in the sand, like an ostrich. - -The comparison was not a pretty one, but then she was not looking for -pretty comparisons. In fact, as far as her feelings for Adair were -concerned, she was eager to find words that could make her wince. She -said them out loud, exulting in their brutality; gross words, picked up -she hardly knew where, and put out of mind as unclean and horrible. To -use them now was a form of self-flagellation, and she laid on the whip -with a will. It was good for a little fool, she said viciously. Lash! -lash! It would keep her out of mischief. Lash! lash! Let her understand -once for all what it really meant, even if the skin curled off her back. - -On her return home she stopped at the telegraph-office to carry out her -intention of volunteering a visit to Aunt Sarah's. Night or day, in -season or out, there she always had a refuge. If blood in Aunt Sarah's -case, was not thicker than water, there was the more robust bond of hard -cash always to be relied upon. A niece who descended in a shower of -gold could count with confidence on the bread and salt of hospitality, -and the sincerest of welcoming kisses. There is something to be said -for people you can count on with confidence. An affectionate, -love-you-like-a-daughter aunt might have made excuses. A money-loving, -pleasure-loving, wholly selfish aunt, living very much above her income, -was one of the certainties of life. - -But as she reined in her horse, and the groom ran to give her his hand -to dismount, she wondered, after all, whether she would telegraph. The -flagellation had been very successful; the September sunshine had killed -the pitiful glimmer of the footlights; the crisp invigorating air had -brought sanity with every breath. No, indeed, she would not telegraph, -she was not half the fool she had thought herself; it was a girlish -weakness to exaggerate everything--infatuation included. She would -telephone to that nice New Yorker instead and invite him to tea. That -oldish man with the charming distinction and courtesy, who had shown -symptoms of infatuation, too.--Yes, a good whipping to be followed by -two hours of an excessively devoted Mr. Van Suydam, and perhaps a -boy-and-girl-evening later with the carpet up--and why should anybody be -scared of anything? - -So the telegram was not sent; and a young lady, very much restored, and -looking adorably fresh and pretty on her Kentucky mare, came galloping -up Chestnut Avenue in excellent spirits and appetite. - -As for Mr. Van Suydam--he threw over a big reception to come, and was so -agreeable and eager, in such a sweet, restrained, smiling way, that he -was allowed to hold a little hand a long, long while, and murmur a whole -heartful of tender things that amounted virtually to a -declaration--which was cruel of Phyllis, not to say unladylike and -shocking; for with half-shut eyes she tried to imagine it was quite -another man who was wooing her, and abandoned herself to the fiction -with a waywardness that was inexcusable. But however unjust it was -towards Mr. Van Suydam, who was an honorable man, and meant what he -said, and was naturally much elated--his suit did Phyllis good, and even -as dummy for another, an inevitable comparison would insist upon -obtruding itself. Caste is very strong; it is difficult to associate -good-breeding, honor and distinction with a ten-twenty-thirty cent star; -and though Mr. Van Suydam, was nothing to Phyllis personally she could -not help realizing the high value she set on the qualities he -exemplified--so high, indeed, that it began to seem impossible for her -to care seriously for any man without them. - -An evening with the sparrows rounded out that day of good resolves and -healthy common sense. She danced with a zest that no -genuinely-infatuated person could have felt, and told ghost stories -afterwards before the fire, and listened to others being told, with -shudders of unaffected enjoyment. "And my dear, when she looked at that -man again, _she saw that his throat was cut from ear to ear!_"--It was a -jolly evening, innocently hilarious, and as wholesome as an ocean -breeze. Morbidity and introspection could not persist in an atmosphere -so genially youthful. Phyllis never thought once of Cyril Adair, and -flirted outrageously with Sam Hargreaves, convulsing the sparrows by -sharing his ice-cream spoon. Ordinarily quiet and backward, and even a -little disdainful, she showed herself in wild spirits that night, and -her audacity, humor and gaiety were irresistible. - - -It was very discouraging, after a night's sleep, as untroubled as a -babe's, to awaken again with a dull ache within her, and to discover, -with hopeless despondency, that she was not cured at all. Alas for the -girlish armor she had striven so hard to put about her--Mr. Van Suydam, -Sam Hargreaves, the bitter, ugly things she had said to herself, the -defiant resolutions. Where was that pride she had stung to fury? Where -was that sense of caste which yesterday had seemed so peremptory? - -The morning found her bereft of everything, wretched, defenseless, with -no longer even the will to fly. She was under the spell once more, and -powerless to throw it off. Her whole prepossession was to see Adair -again, cost what it might. Nothing else mattered. She was mad, -infatuated, contemptible to herself--but she could only be appeased by -the sight of him. Yet how was it possible? How could she contrive it? -She could not well ask Mrs. Beekman a second time. That any one should -suspect her secret was intolerable--she would rather have died. The -circle of her girl friends was too small to arrange another -theater-party without submitting herself to unbearable innuendoes and -home-thrusts. Those young women had a preternatural instinct for -detecting the dawn of love. In other things they might be stupid and -blind, but for this they were as watchful as hawks, and as merciless as -only twenty can be. What of her admirers then--Mr. Van Suydam, say, or -good-natured, fat Sam? But they could be very sharp, too--and besides, -she could not be so forward as to seek an invitation. Young girls in -Carthage had a great deal of liberty--but it had its limits. Perhaps -she could take one of the house-maids with her to the matinee--it was -Saturday and the piece was given twice. But this would appear queer, -especially if it reached her father. - -There seemed nothing for it but to dress very plainly and go by herself. -It was something to remember that matinees practically existed for women -only--though attending one alone was unheard of in Phyllis' set. It was -less a social law than a sort of fact. Girls went to matinees in pairs -apparently--always had--and apparently always would. "Who did you go -with, my dear?" was an inevitable question. Well, if necessary, one -could meet that with a fib; and if one were found out, it was no great -crime after all--but rather a mild escapade that a blush could condone. -Of course a box was out of the question. She could not sit solitary in -a box for the whole house to gape at. But there was nothing to prevent -her buying two orchestra seats, so that any one recognizing her might -draw a natural deduction. An adjoining empty seat was almost a -chaperon, besides permitting her to widen her distance from an -unpleasant neighbor. If there should be two unpleasant neighbors, she -could always rise and walk out. - -At two she was passing the Thalia Theater with an air of well-feigned -unconcern, though her steps grew slower, and she stole quick frightened -glances at the bustling entrance. She felt the need of such a -preliminary survey before she could screw her courage up to the point of -joining the in-going throng, who by daylight looked so depressingly -dingy and common that she was fairly daunted by the sight of them. Even -in the plainest clothes she possessed, she felt that she would be -noticeable among people like that, and this was brought home to her the -more by the impudent stare of several young men, who parted, none too -politely, for her to pass. They knew she had no business there alone; -that she belonged to another world; and there was speculation, as well -as forward admiration, in the looks they cast at her. She felt they had -somehow divined her hesitating purpose, and were grinning at her -humiliation. She quickened her pace, and got by with fiercely flaming -cheeks, and a desolating sense of failure. - -But the desire was so overmastering that after a few minutes she turned, -and again coerced her reluctant feet. Impudent young men could do her -no harm. What a coward she had been to let them disconcert her. She -would put down her sixty cents, and enter boldly, telling herself she -was a factory girl, whose young man happened to be late. She might even -leave the second ticket at the box-office with the phantom's name on -it--though no, that would mean too much talking, and she distrusted her -voice. But, anyhow, nothing was going to keep her out of the theater. -Didn't soldiers walk tip to breastworks, bristling with guns and -cannons--whole rows of them, with probably a very similar shakiness in -their legs? She would advance on that box-office in the same -spirit--right, left, right, left--rubadub, rubadub--with sixty cents in -her hot little hand. - -She had scarcely reached the outskirts of the crowd when she suddenly -heard her name called aloud. It went through her like a knife, and she -hardly dared turn her guilty head. There, beside the curb, in a big -automobile, was Mr. Van Suydam, with a party of women in veils and furs, -all signaling to her. There ensued an animated conversation. Where was -she going? Why shouldn't she jump in with them? Mr. Van Suydam would -sit on the floor of the tonneau, and give her his place. They were so -insistent that it was not easy to refuse. She fibbed manfully, and -invented pressing engagements.... At last they rolled off, waving their -hands.... - -But this chance meeting cost her all the poor courage she possessed. -Why, she could not explain to herself--but it was gone, and there was -nothing for it but to hasten away. She felt she had escaped detection -by a hair; the precious matinee was lost; her eyes smarted with -disappointment and chagrin. She rankled with the injustice of it, -too--the unmerited and unsought disaster that this infatuation really -was. She was so wholly innocent of any blame. She had done -nothing--absolutely nothing--to incur it. If you caught measles or -smallpox every one was sorry for you; it was admittedly a misfortune for -which you were in no way responsible. But if you caught love (she -smiled at her own phrase), it was an unspeakable disgrace! Yet what was -the difference? Did it not lie outside one's self? How unjust it was, -then, to make a criminal of a woman for what was beyond her power to -control; and the exasperating part was that she felt a criminal to -herself! - -Her heart was heavy with shame. One instinct made her love -unreasonably; another instinct arrogated the right to criticize with -unsparing venom. What a contradiction! What a cruel heritage from all -those thousands of dead people who had gone to make her body and her -mind with odds and ends of themselves! She had done no harm, yet some -blind, unknown, malignant force was grinding her under its heel. She -understood now why old-fashioned people believed so implicitly in the -devil. It was their crude explanation of the unexplainable. - -She locked herself in her room, and impelled by a thought that had been -dancing dizzily in her head, opened her desk, and drew out a sheet of -note-paper. She managed to write: "Dear Mr. Adair"; and then, blushing -crimson, covered her face with her hands, and began to tremble with an -uncontrollable emotion. To continue that letter--to send it--was to -outrage every feeling of modesty within her. Under the circumstances -any letter, however cold or conventional, was an avowal. She might -almost as well write "_je t'adore_" under her photograph, and leave it -at the stage-door. But that blind, unknown, malignant force, after a -moment of respite, again drove her on. She might shiver and blush, but -the compulsion of it was like iron, and she had to obey. - -"Dear Mr. Adair," she wrote, "I have seen _Moths_ twice, and may I, a -mere member of the public, and altogether unknown to you, take the great -liberty of expressing my admiration of your wonderful performance?" She -stopped at the last word, and debated it over with herself--quite -coolly, considering the throes she had been in a minute before. No, -"performance" would not do. Bears performed; so did acrobats; it was not -the right word at all.--She took another sheet of paper, and began -again: "Dear Mr. Adair: I have seen _Moths_ twice, and may I, a mere -member of the public, and altogether unknown to you, take the great -liberty of expressing my admiration of your powerful portrayal of a -noble nature struggling against an illicit passion? Nothing I have ever -seen on the stage has moved me so deeply, and though praise from an -absolute stranger may seem little in your eyes, I can not resist the -impulse that makes me write. Trusting you will receive this in the -spirit that prompts it, believe me, in sincere homage, Phyllis Ladd." - -She read it, and re-read it till the words lost all meaning. What would -he think of it? What sort of person would it conjure up to him? The -hand, and the paper, and the engraved address all denoted refinement and -good taste. It would be quite evident to him that she was a lady, with -a social position of the best--that is, if he knew what Chestnut Avenue -meant in Carthage, and especially such a number as 214. But there was -nothing to show that she was young, or unmarried--or--or--good-looking. -The letter might just as well have been written by a matron of fifty. -If only she could have added "aged twenty-one, and generally considered -a very pretty woman." She would have liked him to know that, even if -she were never to see him again; would have liked to tantalize his -curiosity in regard to the unknown Phyllis Ladd whose name was signed at -the end.--Though he probably received bushels of notes. All actors were -said to. And being a man he would probably like some of the warmer ones -better--those from frankly adoring shop-girls, hampered neither by -social position nor backwardness. Hers would be pushed to one side, and -never thought of again. Oh, the little fool she was to send it! What -could come of it but shame, and good Heavens, hadn't she had enough of -that already? - -But undeterred, and wilful in spite of everything, she addressed an -envelope, folded her letter inside it, and went out to drop it herself -into the box. As it slipped from her fingers she felt an intense -pleasure in her daring. It was only a coward who took no risks. There -was her letter in the box gone beyond retaking. For better or worse, -for good or evil, it had started on its road, and let come what might. - - - - - *CHAPTER IX* - - -The next morning, towards noon, Cyril Adair was lounging over the bar of -the Good Fellows' Grotto, with one well-shod foot perched on the metal -rest below. Before him was a Martini cocktail, and the admiring, -deferential face of Larry, the bar-keeper. Adair stood the scrutiny of -daylight better than most actors. Late hours, dissipation and -grease-paint had not impaired a fine and ruddy skin that the morning -razor left as fresh as a boy's. His brown eyes were clear, and there -was about him an air of unassailable health that was enhanced by broad -shoulders, a neck as firm as any ever cut from Greek marble, and a -finely-swelling chest--the physique, in fact, of what he had some -pretensions to be--a good, welter-weight boxer. His skill in this -direction was well known, and his readiness when tipsy to exercise it on -any one unfortunate enough to offend him, was one of the scandals of his -stormy and scandalous life. His engagements, nine times out of ten, had -the knack of ending in the police court, with raw beefsteak for the -plaintiff's eye, and the option of "seven day's hard" for the uncontrite -defendant. Even when stark sober--and to do him justice he drank only -in fits and starts, with long intermissions between--there was something -subtly formidable in the man, and people instinctively made way for him, -and treated him with a respect verging on fear. - -He was over-dressed in what was the last accentuation of the prevailing -fashion--with far too much braided cuff, with far too startling a -waistcoat, with far too extravagant a tie and pin--and worse than -anything, wore them all with assertiveness and self-complacency. Though -his manners were good (when he liked,) and his address agreeable, and -even ingratiating, he was too showy, too self-satisfied, too elaborately -at ease, and his assurance seemed to rest, not on the conventional -groundwork of birth and breeding, but rather on his power and will to -knock you through the door if he cared to take the trouble. - -Of course, he was profoundly ignorant, knowing nothing, reading little, -his life bounded by the footlights on one side, and the stage-door on -the other--and like all such men perpetually nervous lest he should be -found out. His inherent ability was enormous--as enormous as his -vanity. He had fought his way up from nothing--from the muddy streets -in which he had sold papers, and begged, and starved, his whole boyhood -long. He was full of instincts that had never had the chance of -becoming anything more--instincts, which, if cultivated, might have made -him a very different man. He was passionately fond of bad music; -delighted in the only pictures he knew, those in hotels and saloons; he -had, stored away in a memory that never forgot anything, half the plays -of Shakespeare, and thousands of lines of trashy verse. A savage, in -fact, in the midst of our civilization, which, after trying to grind him -into powder, and denying him everything, was unjust enough to despise -him heartily for what he had made of himself unaided. Could he have -refrained from taking offense at trifles, and from punching people's -heads, he could easily have retained the high place he had once held on -the New York stage. He had no one to thank but himself if he were now -touring the country in a fifty-class company, with an enemy in every -manager who had ever employed him. He had a strong, unusual talent. In -the delineation of somber and misunderstood natures, contradictory, -pent-up, heroic--the out and out bad man with a spark of good--he was -admitted by metropolitan critics to have no equal in America. Others -copied him slavishly and made successes, while he, their inspiration and -their model, remained comparatively unknown. There were times when he -felt very badly about it, but a pretty face and a provocative petticoat -could always divert his attention. Needless to say he had not to look -far to find either. - -"Larry," he asked nonchalantly, "do you know any people in Carthage here -named Ladd?" - -"I don't believe I do, Mr. Adair," returned Larry, scratching his head. -"Leastways, none except Robert T. R. Ladd, the railroad president." -Larry was unable to conceive that this mighty name could possibly have -any bearing on Adair's question. "No, I don't believe I do." - -"Oh, the railroad president? Any family?" - -"Just one daughter." - -"Well, go on--tell me about her." - -"Why, there isn't much to say, except people call her the prettiest girl -in Carthage--but then they always say that of a millionaire's -daughter--Emma Satterlee would turn the milk sour, and yet in the -society notes--" - -"Did you ever see her?--No, no, I don't mean that one--the railroad -man's--the Ladd girl?" - -"Yes, I saw her onst in a church fair. She hit _me_ all right. Slender -brunette, very aristocracy, with the kind of eyes that if you're _fond_ -of brunettes--seem like--" - -"How old is she?" - -"Hell, how do I know! Twenty--twenty-one--something around there. Just -a girl." - -"And the prettiest one in Carthage?" repeated Adair, sipping his -cocktail as though the description pleased him. - -"Well, I would leave _my_ happy home for her," said Larry, with a grin. -"Pretty--I'd say she was pretty--pretty enough to eat." - -"Lives out Chestnut Avenue way, doesn't she?" - -"Yes, in the stone house that's set back in a kind of park, with a big -gate in front and a driveway. The Ladds' are at the top of the top, you -know. My, I felt I was breaking into the swell bunch myself when she -told my fortune for a dollar. If I had had the nerve and the money I -guess she would be telling it yet! And she smiled so sweet when she -took it, like I was as good as anybody. God forgive me if I seem to -talk disrespectful of her, for she's a lady through and through, and I -knew it even if I was only a bar-keeper." - -"Toss you for the drinks," said Adair, draining his glass. "Hand over -the box, Larry." - -"Sure Mike," said the bar-keeper rattling the dice. - - -Adair encountered an acquaintance, a commercial traveler named Hellman, -on the sidewalk outside. - -"Just the fellow I wanted to see," he cried. "Hellman, there is such a -word as temerity, isn't there?" - -"Bet your life," said Hellman. "The temerity of my playing _Hamlet_, -you know--the temerity of you thinking yourself a better-looking man -than I am--the temerity of--" - -"And you spell it t-e-m-e-r-i-t-y?" interrupted Adair. - -"Yes, why?" - -"Oh, I used it in a letter I was writing to a girl, and I didn't want to -mail it till I was sure." He showed the envelope in his hand, with his -thumb hiding the name. - -"Always at it," said Hellman, with an unpleasant laugh. "Who are you -throwing the handkerchief at now?" - -"The prettiest girl in Carthage," returned Adair genially. "There's a -box over there--let's drop it in." - -And together they crossed the street, and sent the letter on its way. - -It was to Phyllis, begging in warm but respectful language for the -privilege of calling on her. - - - - - *CHAPTER X* - - -"Dear Mr. Adair: I hardly expected you to reply to my note, nor could I -have thought it would please you so much as you say. Indeed, I hope you -will not misjudge it--or me--for it was written on the same impulse that -makes one applaud in the theater itself, and with no ulterior idea. -Frankly, I do not think I ought to ask you to call--the circumstances -are so peculiar--and it is all so against the conventionalities. In -Washington or New York it would be different, but this little -place--like all little places--is strait-laced beyond belief. It will -be my loss more than yours, which perhaps will be some consolation to -you. Yet it seems too stupid to say no--that is, if you really _do_ -want to come--and I am going to ask you after all. Surely a little talk -over a cup of tea to-morrow at five ought not to arrest the stars in -their courses, or bring down the pillars of the universe on our -unfortunate heads? And if any one should come in, we might say that we -had met before in Washington? That would place our acquaintance on a -more correct footing, and save me, at least, the possibility of -embarrassment. Is this asking too much of you? Sincerely yours, -Phyllis Ladd." - - - - - *CHAPTER XI* - - -There are men who pursue women with a skill, zest and pertinacity that -others do bears or tigers, and with very much the same hardihood and -delight. In the rich preserves of the world, so well stocked with youth -and beauty, they find an unending enjoyment, and an unending occupation. -No sooner have they brought down one, and beheld her bleeding and -stricken at their feet, than they are up and off, with another notch on -their gun, and fresh ardor in their hearts. They are debarred from -taking the tangible trophies of skin and head; a slipper, a glove, a -bundle of letters are often all they have to show; but within them wells -the satisfaction of the hunter who has made a "kill." - -Amongst this race of sportsmen there were few hardier or more daring -than Cyril Adair. That the game was cruel or cowardly had never -occurred to him. The women he knew--all of the lower class--frequently -played their side of it with eyes wide open, and ran--not to escape--but -with the full intention of being caught. This is not urged in his -extenuation. Often he was not aware of the subterfuge. Women to him -were but prey, and in more venerable times he would have waylaid any -lady he favored, with a club. - -Behold him in immaculate afternoon costume, striding along Chestnut -Avenue--boutonniere, silk-hat, cane, new suede gloves, etc.--a devil of -a fellow in his own estimation, with an air and a swagger that reflected -his profound contentment with himself. He had never gone a-hunting -before in such a splendid wood. The thought that he was actually going -to invade one of those imposing mansions made his pulses leap. How big -they were, how aristocratic! What incomes they represented! What -mysteries of ease and luxury lay hidden behind those stately windows! -He was tremendously stirred; tremendously excited. He swelled with -self-complacency. He was hardly over thirty, he was handsome, he was a -genius--and the women loved him! - -A man-servant admitted him. Yes, Miss Ladd was expecting him. His hat -and cane were taken, while he gazed, somewhat daunted, at the immense -hall in which he found himself. He had a confused sense of tapestries; -of stone bas-reliefs very worn and old; of oriental rugs; of -strange-looking, moldy chairs, straight-backed and carved, with massive -arms, on which there was still the fading gilt of the fifteenth -century.--He was led through another room of a similar cold and spacious -magnificence, and then up-stairs to the drawing-room. Here he was left, -while the man departed to inform his mistress of the visitor's arrival. - -The elegance and beauty with which Adair found himself surrounded fairly -took his breath away. His only standard was that of fashionable hotels, -yet here was something that made the splendors of the Waldorf or the -Auditorium seem suddenly tawdry in comparison. His instinctive good -taste was ravished by the old Venetian brocades, the rich dark pictures, -the Sheriton furniture, the harmonious blending of all these, and so -many other half-seen and half-comprehended things into a gracious and -exquisite whole. Near him was the table set out for tea, with silver -that it was a joy to look at; and about the little island it made in the -vastness of the room was a wealth of red roses, marking as it were the -boundaries of coziness and intimacy. - -Adair's complacency was not proof against such aristocratic and -undreamed of surroundings. His exultation fell, and pangs of self-pity -assailed him. What was he but a child of the gutter, an outcast--a man -full of yearning for the unattainable, who had been starved and kept -down by merciless circumstances? Such swift transitions were not -unusual in his peculiar and contradictory nature. After all, he was an -artist, even if often a brute and a fool, and somewhere within him, very -much overlaid and shrouded, there was a spark of the divine fire. Yes, -he said to himself, he was coarse and common, and ignorant and -unrefined. He had done much with himself; he had achieved wonders, -considering the handicap he had always been under--but admitting all -that, what enormous deficiencies still remained! How ill at ease he was -in such a room as this! How hard he would have to strive to hide his -lack of knowledge and breeding! He had almost wished he had never come. -In such a place he was an intruder--a boor--condemned to blunder through -a part with no author's lines to help him. - -As it turned out, nothing could have been more fortunate for him than -this dejected mood. First appearances are everything, and he might -easily--so easily--have made an intolerable impression. Indeed, in the -cold fit, almost the terror, succeeding the impulse that had caused -Phyllis to invite him, she was prepared to find him forward, and perhaps -eager to take advantage of her recklessness, and misconstrue it. At the -hint of such a thing she would have frozen; and the fact that she would -only have had herself to blame would have doubled her humiliation. A -woman who makes the first advances to a man is more capable than any of -sudden revulsions. Her pride is on edge, and morbidly apprehensive. - -But the grave, quiet, handsome man awaiting her dispelled these fancies -as soon as their eyes had met. He thanked her with an embarrassment not -unbecoming under the circumstances, for the unconventionality that had -given him the privilege of meeting her. His smile as he said this was -charming; his respect and courtesy beyond reproach; that other nature of -his, the artist-nature, so quick and responsive in its intuitions warned -him to put a guard on himself. Besides, if the room had over-awed him, -how much more overpowering was the apparition of this slim and radiant -woman, the mistress of all this splendor, whose pure dark face filled -him with an indefinable sense of another world in which he was but a -clod. Though he was a connoisseur of pretty women, and had possessed in -his disreputable past many of greater physical beauty than Phyllis, not -one of them had had the least pretensions to what in her appealed to him -so strongly--distinction. From her glossy hair to the tips of her -little feet, she was the embodiment of race, of high-breeding and high -spirit; it was as marked in her girlish beauty as in any thoroughbred. -She was the child of those who had admitted no superior save their God -and their King. - -Adair found himself bereft of all his assurance. The professional -besieger, accustomed to advance with sureness and precision, -unaccountably held back, hardly knowing why his heart had turned to -water. It seemed presumptuous enough that he should even talk on terms -of equality with one so immeasurably above him. His humility was -painful. He stammered. He colored. His hand trembled on his tea-cup -as he strove to keep alive a conversation of the usual commonplaces. - -"Miss Ladd," he said suddenly, "you mustn't think I am a -gentleman--because I am not. I am not accustomed to this kind of thing; -you are the first lady I--I've ever met." He arrested the expostulation -on her lips and went on hurriedly. "It's much better to tell you that -right off. I don't know those books you speak of; I don't know anything -very much; I am awfully uncultivated and ignorant. There, I have said -it! It will make me feel more comfortable, and it will be lots better -than pretending I am something I'm not." - -"You are a great actor, Mr. Adair." - -"My God," he returned with simplicity, "sometimes I'm not so sure that I -am." Then he burst into laughter at his own artlessness--a delightful -laugh, contagious and musical, that no one could hear without liking him -the better. Phyllis laughed, too, and somehow with it the ice seemed -broken, and constraint disappeared. "Miss Ladd," he went on, "people -like you, and places like this, are the realities which we try so hard -to copy with our poor theatrical pasteboard and calico. I used to hate -Mansfield for saying we ought to work as servants amongst--well, people -we couldn't meet in any other way, and yet the ones we are audacious -enough to represent on the stage. He meant it as an insult, of -course--but he was right in some ways. Just seeing you pour tea makes -me feel how badly we do even that!" - -Phyllis, naturally, was touched and flattered. - -"Why, we just pour it anyhow," she said, smiling. - -"Precisely," exclaimed Adair, "and now let me do it our way!" He drew -nearer the table, put his hand to the tea-pot, and grimacing at an -imaginary company, proceeded to pour and pass several imaginary cups -with a grotesque affectation of grace and elegance. "Two lumps, dear -Sir James?--Patricia, the Bishop is famishing for some almond cake.--Oh, -mercy me, and what's become of the Dook?" It was an admirable bit of -mimicry, and so gay and captivating in its satire that Phyllis thought -she had never seen anything so clever. She laughed with delight and -clapped her hands. - -"Though you shock me, too," she protested. "Correze mustn't do things -like that--it isn't in keeping." - -"Correze?" - -"Yes, you are not Mr. Adair to me, though I know that's your name, and I -have invited you. I can only think of you as Correze." - -"Was I as good as that in the part?" - -"I told you what I thought of it in my note." - -"And you really meant it?" - -"Would I have written if I hadn't? It was an awful thing to do. I -can't think of it without burning with shame.--How can you say you are -not a gentleman, Mr. Adair? Only a gentleman would have put the right -construction on it." - -He was questioning her face with his fine eyes. His intuition again -stood him in good stead. This was not provocation, it was innocence. -To himself he said: "No, it is impossible." - -Then aloud: "It was the only construction--and I felt childishly -pleased. We're great children, you know, we actors; and after all, are -we to blame for liking approbation? Just think a moment. How close it -all is to the ridiculous, our standing up there and declaiming all sorts -of red-hot emotions, with painted paper on one side, and bald-headed -fiddlers on the other! Doesn't it sometimes come over a man--sort of -shoot through him--the feeling of what a monkey-spectacle he is making -of himself? _You_ go ahead and play Lady Macbeth in a nightgown; rage -and strut before those cold, scornful faces. Then let one amongst them -cry: 'Bravo, bravo,' and give you a hand!--My Lord, you'd give him your -watch and chain, your diamond pin--don't you see, he returns you your -self-respect, makes your work worth the doing?--and that's what your -note did for me, Miss Ladd." - -"Oh, Mr. Adair, don't talk to me about the cold, scornful faces at your -performance. I was there twice, and saw how they called you out!" - -"Miss Ladd," he said, his strong, handsome, eager face whimsically -alight, "let me confess the honest truth--an actor simply can't have -enough admiration!" - -"You worry me for fear I didn't make mine warm enough! For really, Mr. -Adair, in all sincerity, I--" - -"Well, go on." - -"Bravo, bravo!" Her lips parted mockingly over her white teeth as she -pretended to applaud madly. It was the daintiest teasing, and more -charming in the intimacy it implied than any downright praise. Adair -glowed with a pleasure so honest and boyish that Phyllis might be -forgiven for not suspecting the baser depths he hid so well. - -"I'm a conceited ass," he admitted, "and after all, isn't it enough to -turn a man's head to be here with you, and feel I owe it to the ginger I -put into Correze? Most people get their friends by introductions and -all that, but I just snatched you out of a whole theater full of -strangers. For you are my friend, aren't you, Miss Ladd?" - -"Yes, Correze." - -"You'll be making me jealous of the chap," he cried running his hands -through his hair with make-believe exasperation. "I think he is a good -deal of a whining humbug myself, and the sly way he throws bouquets at -himself is disgusting. Miss Ladd, I am ever so much nicer than he -is--really I am--though I see I shall never be able to convince you." - -"No reason why you shouldn't try." - -"Perhaps I am ashamed to," he returned, with an intensity of expression -that became him well. "You find me in a wretched little theater, the -cheapest of cheap stars--the hoodlum's pet, the shop-girl's dream--and -how can it help coloring your whole idea of me? You admire my Correze, -but for me myself how can you have anything but contempt? No, -no--listen--it's true--and the more you knew of my history the more -contemptuous you'd be. I've been rated very high; I've had every chance -in the world; I've played with the biggest kind of people, -and--succeeded. Yet I have always been the dog who hanged himself. No, -there is no mystery about it--there never is with a man who is -sinking--a man of ability. It's his own fault every time--every, every -time." - -His earnestness made Phyllis thrill. Adair was playing his best -role--himself, and playing it with the fire and eloquence he could -always bring to it. His voice, incomparable in the beauty and range of -its tones, was never so effective as when tinged with emotion. Nothing -was more manly, more sincere, more moving. It rose and fell in cadences -that lingered in the ear after the words themselves were -spoken--veritable music, affecting not only the listener, but the -musician as well. Under the spell of it he now found himself tempted -into strange confidences. Never before had he spoken of his childhood -and early life except to lie, to brag, to romance. Yet here, to his own -wonder, and impelled by he hardly knew what, he was unbosoming himself -of the whole ignoble truth. That instinct of his, so often wiser than -himself, so diabolically helpful, was showing him the right road. Had -Phyllis been some little milliner this would have been no road at all; -such a one would have been too familiar with the seamy side of life to -find any glamour in the tale; such a one would have preferred the bogus -palaces and bogus splendors his instinct would then have indicated. -Phyllis' intelligence was too keen thus to be deceived; even genuine -splendors would have interested her less than this pitiful story of the -slums; it not only touched her sensibility to the quick, but enhanced -Adair in her tender and sympathetic eyes. - -His father had been an Englishman--a remittance man named Mayne--George -Cyril Augustus Fitzroy Mayne. Whether his pretensions were justified or -not, and they were inordinate, including "Wales" and "Cambridge," he was -beyond all doubt a gentleman, with grand manners, a back like a ramrod, -and a curt, military directness in speaking. He used to say "dammy"; -was fond of alluding to himself as "an old Hussar"; was wont to remark -that a gentleman could always be told by his hat and his boots; and -once, when attacked on the street, had shown extraordinary courage and -adroitness in defending himself with a light cane. This was about all -Adair remembered of him, except that he drank hard; had recurring fits -of delirium tremens in which he raged and fought like a wild beast; and -finally, dying in a hospital ward, was buried like a dog in the Potter's -Field. - -Adair's mother had been an Irish peasant girl. She was kind and -warm-hearted, and spoke with a brogue; she was always laughing and -singing, even under circumstances when a right-minded person would have -thrown himself into the East River. She drank, too. Everybody drank. -He used to be given sips from her glass, and knew what it was to be -tipsy before he was eight. It was about that time he began to sell -papers on the streets, for his father was dead, and his mother-- Well, -he wouldn't go into that. But in her way she had always been good to -him. She wouldn't let the men beat him. When she was sent to the -Island for the second time he thought his little heart would break. She -didn't last long after that. How could she, gone as she was in -consumption, and drinking like a fish? Oh, what a hell it was--what a -hell! His pennies were all his own now, though he often had to fight to -keep them. He was always fighting to keep them--first in desperation, -then by degrees with some coolness and science. The bigger boys coached -him; egged him on; he became a regular little bantam. They'd make up a -purse--a quarter or something--and set two little wretches to pounding -each other. Anything was allowed, you know--biting, kicking, scrooging, -hair pulling! There was only one rule, and that was to win. - -Well, so it went on, till he was sixteen or thereabouts, the toughest -young tough you could see on Avenue A. He was nicknamed Fighting Joe, -and they used to get up cheap little matches for him in the back rooms -of saloons--real fighting, stripped to the waist, and four ounce gloves. -His only ambition was to get into the prize ring, and in his dreams at -night he would see his picture in the _Police Gazette_. Then the -Settlement workers came--a pale-looking outfit, with Mission furniture -and leaflets. They were regarded as a great infliction--as an insult to -an honest tough neighborhood. It was the correct thing to break their -windows, and lambast their followers. Fighting Joe took a prominent -part in this righteous task. What did it matter that several of them -were women? What did such brutes care for that? If ever there was a -young savage on earth it was he. - -One of the women was tall and pretty--not very young--twenty-eight or -twenty-nine perhaps. Miss Cooke, she was--Miss Grace Cooke. She would -never see him but what she would turn white with anger and fear. You -see, everything was put down to him, all that he did do, and all that he -didn't--and totaling up both sides of it, it ran to a lot. He couldn't -begin to remember the caddish things he was answerable for; he didn't -care to try; my God, what a brute he was, what a brute! And yet he -admired this woman; guessed he was in love with her in a calfy way; took -every chance to see her--and insult her! Of course, there wasn't the -faintest reason why he shouldn't have walked into the Settlement, said -he was sorry, and have been received with open arms. But people like -that can't say they are sorry--they don't know how. Besides, the social -disgrace of it would have been awful! Joe Mayne running with that -gospel gang! The thing was incredible. - -Late one winter afternoon he saw her in the midst of a crowd of -hobbledehoys, hooting and jeering at her. She was walking as fast as -she dared, looking straight ahead of her, and pretending not to notice. -It was dark; the street was empty; and if she was scared she had mighty -good reason for it. One of the fellows lurched against her, and down -she went on the sidewalk; as she tried to rise another rolled her over, -and tore her hat off. Of course, it was a great joke, and they were all -roaring with laughter. Then it was he came running up--Joe--and when -she saw him she gave him a look he would remember to the day he died. -Oh, the terror of it--the shrinking! But he smashed one on the jaw, -caught another between the eyes, and lifted her up, half fainting as she -was, and tried with his dirty hands to smooth her hair, and put on her -hat again.--That's how they came to be friends; that's how he came to be -landed in the Settlement; everything real in his life dated from that -moment. - -He was with them two years; with them as long as she lived. There -wasn't a good quality in him that she didn't put there. On census -forms, and such things, when asked his religion, he always felt inclined -to write: "Grace Cooke." By God, it would have been the truth. She was -his religion yet, far though he had fallen away from it--oh, so far--! -She stood for everything that was good and beautiful and noble. It -wasn't love. It was beyond all love. She was a Madonna, a saint, and he -had had the privilege to kneel at her feet--a Caliban of the slums, a -tough, a hoodlum, unworthy to touch the hem of her garment. Then she -died, and that was the end of it. He didn't care for the Settlement -after she died. He got a job as chucker-out in a low place called the -Crystal Palace. There was a dais, and performers used to sing. He -thought he would try it himself, and made quite a hit. Then he began -giving recitations--_The Fi-erman's Dream_, and that kind of thing, and -they caught on. He owed it all to Grace Cooke, who had taught him to -read--(not ordinary reading, he had picked that up somehow for -himself)--but real reading, dramatic reading. From this it was a step to -monologues in costume, and from that to the vaudeville stage. - -Sitting there in the growing dusk, and in an atmosphere so conducive to -confidence, Adair unfolded his early life with a tender, persuasive and -charming humor. He often laughed; often he was silent; again and again -he would look up, and seek Phyllis' eyes in a lingering glance as though -to assure himself of her interest. For once in his life he was shy; the -slim, pretty hand he gazed at so covetously was safe from any touch of -his; something told him that the least familiarity would cost him all he -had gained.--It was not policy on his part. He was too humble to think -of policy. To be with her alone seemed presumption enough--to feel her -sympathy, her friendship. Not a word or act of his should mar that -wonderful day. - -He rose, apologizing for having stayed so long. - -"It is your own fault," he said, holding out his hand, "you've made me -forget everything." - -"I'm afraid it was the other way round, Mr. Adair," she returned, trying -to smile, and thankful for the darkness that veiled her face. - -"Am I ever to see you again?" - -She shook her head. - -"You mean it is good-by, Miss Ladd?" - -"Yes, it's good-by." - -Her hand was in his, so soft, so motionless, yet somehow so reluctant to -leave his grasp. His head was turning; he could not go like that. No, -no, he could not. He suddenly pulled her towards him, and caught her in -his arms, kissing her hair, her cheek, her mouth, with a passion that -cared little whether she was crushed or smothered in his embrace. Good -God, what was he doing? After holding back so long, what diabolical -folly had tempted him to this? Yet she had said it was good-by. He had -nothing to lose. Let her pant and struggle and tremble, he would take -tribute of her beauty nevertheless, however much she was insulted or -outraged. His lips were wet with her tears. He forced her to receive -his kisses on her mouth, exulting in the strength that allowed her no -escape. But was she resisting him? A tremor of maddening delight shot -through his frame. Her mouth was seeking his, and he heard her -whispering breathlessly: "I love you, I love you, I love you!" - -It was so unexpected, so surprising, that he let her free. She sank -into a chair and covered her burning face, repelling him as he threw -himself on his knees beside her. - -"If you don't go, I shall never forgive you!" she exclaimed. "Haven't -you shamed me enough? Do you want me to die of humiliation?" Then, from -the heart, came the woman's cry: "What will you think of me?" - -That instinct, which in Adair took the place of conscience, honor, all -the conventional virtues and restraints, again came steadfastly to his -help. He bent down; kissed her on the brow; and getting his hat and -cane abruptly took his departure. - - - - - *CHAPTER XII* - - -The dictionary with unhesitating positiveness informs us that -infatuation is "unreasonable or extravagant passion." But are there not -those who have stayed unreasonably impassioned to the end, those whose -earthly parting has been but at the grave? And does not love of the -admitted, recognized, unextravagant, very much approved, -bless-you-my-children kind only too often ring out its knell in the -divorce court? That Phyllis was infatuated with this good-looking scamp -was beyond question, if by that one meant his physical attraction held -her as much a slave as any of our ravished ancestors in the Vikings' -boats. Her will was gone; her judgment; all her nicely-balanced -highly-critical young-ladyism. It was horrifying to her to realize it; -her powerlessness was at once an agony and a delight; it came over her, -with a frightening sense of injustice, that a woman's happiness lies -beyond herself, and is for ever dependent on some man. - -Naturally she sat down, and wrote him a sad little letter. He was to -forget everything that had passed, and not misjudge her for an -uncontrollable impulse. Were he to presume upon it, she would not only -die of shame, but would be forced to perceive that her trust had been -misplaced. As a gentleman and a man of honor--and she knew him to be -both--he would understand that it was impossible for them ever to meet -again, and that her good-by was indeed irrevocable. But her good wishes -would always attend him, and she would sign herself, in all sincerity, -his friend, Phyllis Ladd. This done, she waited in a fever of -impatience for his answer, hoping, dreading, tumultuously inconsistent, -hot fits and cold succeeding each other in her troubled and anxious -heart. - -It may be imagined how unkindly Adair took her commands. In his large, -straggling hand, and over six sheets of hotel paper he expressed his -energetic dissent. It was a trite letter--flowery and theatrical--her -haunting eyes, the memory of her adorable beauty, the despair of a man -who had found love only to lose it, etc. Had Phyllis been herself it -would have made her smile. Nothing, indeed, could have shown how far she -had traveled on the road of illusion than her acceptance of these -well-worn phrases. The tears sprang to her eyes at the smooth and -nicely-rounded description of his wretchedness; she glowed and thrilled -at the praise of herself, its boldness redeemed by what she ascribed to -a lover's ardor; the pathetic plea for another meeting was irresistible. -It might be unwise; it was sure to be painful; but, after all, it was -his right. He loved her; he bowed to her decision; his life was hard at -best, and now doubly so; what he asked was so little for her to give, -yet to him it was everything--to see her once more before they parted -for ever. - - -They met this time at the corner of a remote street. He was very pale, -very quiet, and it was not a lie he told her that he had been unable to -sleep for thinking of her. Had she known better what those thoughts -were she would have shrunk from him. But, fortunately or not, she did -not know. She, too, was quiet and pale, and it was with the sense of an -impending fate that she took his arm, and slowly walked with him along -the foot-path. Unconsciously he was more masterful with her, now that -she was away from that daunting house, and that awe-inspiring -drawing-room. The sanctity that had enveloped her there had largely -disappeared. Here was a situation he was used to--a distractingly -pretty girl, a sidewalk rendezvous, and an infatuation that needed but -the right handling to bring it to the proper conclusion. - -Yet with everything so plain--and apparently so easy, Adair himself was -in a whirl of strange and new emotions. Something had pierced his -colossal selfishness, and was disturbing him. It was annoying at a time -when he needed all his wits about him, and he resented it as a symptom -of unmanly weakness. One drop of real love in that ocean of sham was -threatening to poison the whole. He did not put it thus concretely. He -only knew that he was uncomfortable, and not rising as he should to the -occasion. Except for that far-away Grace Cooke he had never known a -decent woman. His counterfeit love had been lavished on counterfeit -innocence: and counterfeit purity. Fooling, he had always been fooled. - -But this proud and melting young beauty lay outside of all his -experience. Had she defended herself he would have known better how to -attack. But she made no demur when he took her hand and kissed it; she -did not resist, when, after looking up and down the street to see if -they had it to themselves, he caught her boldly in his arms, and crushed -her against himself, murmuring a torrent of words that came so readily -to his practised lips. How radiantly she smiled when he tore off a tiny -corner of her letter, and told her she had to eat it as a punishment. -Her saucy obedience put him in a seventh heaven, and it was with a sort -of ecstasy that he snatched it from her, fearful lest it might do her -harm. That letter, in one sense, had been disposed of almost as soon as -they had met. She had tried, for a moment or two, to adhere to it, and -to make him see the necessity of that good-by. But under the glamour of -his presence she faltered and broke down, and all that was left of the -matter was her incoherent plea for forgiveness. What tenderness she put -into this request! There never could be a good-by between them--never, -never--and her eyes swam with tears at her disloyalty to him. - -Both felt an uplifting gaiety and light-heartedness, as she said, in -extenuation of her happy laughter, that they were like people who had -grown rich overnight, for had they not discovered an enormous nugget--a -nugget of love? It had been lying there for any to find, but they had -been the lucky ones! They had a right to be excited, hadn't they? The -only really serious thing was the fact that they might have missed it. -They might have stubbed against it, and passed on--like idiots. She -developed this fantasy with captivating grace and archness, Adair -meanwhile lost in admiration, not only of the delicate fancy that kept -him smiling, but of her varying expressions so revealing of unexpected -charm. She grew prettier and prettier to him--more kissable, more -adorable. He kept forgetting his ulterior purpose in the rapture of -being with her; he forgot his conceit, forgot his role; he was -perilously near being in love. Perhaps he was in love. At any rate, -when he recollected to take advantage of this unconcealed regard for -him--of all this young ardor and innocent passion--the words somehow -would not leave his tongue. - -Her sensitive mouth, so responsive to every look of his, the sweet -candor of her eyes, her transparent belief in him--all forbade. There -would be time enough for that; and having made this concession to his -manhood, he straightway put the idea by, dimly realizing to himself that -it was unpleasant to him. It takes a bad man to appreciate and exalt -the best of women; he sees her in such a contrasting light; her baser -sisters give her by relief an angelic brightness. It is not for nothing -that they say the reformed rake makes the best husband. Not that Adair -had gone so far as this, however. He was not reformed, and cold chills -would have run down his back at the horrid prospect; while his own brief -career as a husband had left him with a hatred for the word and the -institution. It was merely a fleeting impulse, stronger for the moment -than he was, and induced by his artist love of beauty, which included -this time in its comprehension, a rare, gracious and exquisite nature. - -They were together for nearly two hours, and when they were forced at -last to part it seemed as though only the half had been said. Yet not -for an instant had they ever got near the realities. With Adair these -were consciously avoided. It was one thing to say: "I love you," with -mellow vibrations, and impassioned eyes; quite another to descend to the -practical considerations that might reasonably be expected to follow. -He felt neither in the humor to lie, nor to palter with the ugly truth, -and in a sort of anger dismissed both alternatives. He was intoxicated -with her; she mounted to his brain like wine; he only knew one thing, -that come what might, she should never get away from him. This was all -his dizzy head could hold. The future could take care of itself. - -As for Phyllis she was in that rapt state of happiness when a woman can -do nothing but glow and worship. Had not the king descended from his -throne for her? At last was not her long heart-hunger gloriously -appeased? Was she not so possessed with this demigod that all other -sublunary concerns seemed to vanish into insignificance? She walked on -air; she exulted in the memory of his caresses; she was the more -precious to herself now that she was his, now that she belonged to him -so utterly. She hoarded every compliment he had paid her; and wondered, -in delicious doubt, though not altogether unconvinced, whether she could -be, indeed, all that she had seemed to him. As for the deeper questions, -she had the woman's faculty of answering them in formless dreams. - -They were settled in a vague, tender and altogether perfect manner. -He--and she--and a billowing bliss on which they floated evermore, hand -pressed in hand, mouth against mouth, in an ineffable and transcendant -content. - -Adair, once beyond her influence, was aware of a certain sagging of that -higher nature she had conjured into being. Not that he loved her any -less; he was on fire for her, and his coarse passion was inflamed a -thousandfold by their second meeting. But, as he said to himself, he -had muffed it. He was not the first man to feel a twinge of guilt at -having been _good_. He was a child of his world, of his conditions, -upbringing and environment, and ought not to be blamed over-much--rather -commended for the first faint stirrings of an embryo conscience, which, -if it had died all too soon, was still a spark of grace. - -The performance tired him more than usual. He was slack, and could not -get into his part. As a consequence, to offset his disinclination, he -overplayed, and left the theater thoroughly exasperated, and out of -heart. He took supper moodily by himself, and though ordinarily -abstemious--for no one with his complexion could be accused of habitual -excess--he drank high-ball after high-ball with a brutal satisfaction in -fuddling himself. He grew wickeder with every gulp, more cold-blooded -and determined. He would see this thing through, by God. He would take -her with him on the road. She was ripe for it; she was crazy about -him--lady and all, there was the devil in her all right. The nicest -women were the worst when they let themselves go. What a fool he had -been ever to bother with the other kind. He had always been a cheap -fellow, pleased with cheap things--with raddled actresses, and silly -tiresome shop-girls. Here was a little piece that put them all in the -shade; prettier than the prettiest, dewy fresh, with a twist to -everything she said so that it was an endless pleasure to be with her. -She was so quick, so daintily impudent, so finely bred and educated. -God, what an armful! God, what a little mistress for a tired and lonely -man, sick to death of common women! - -He reeled up-stairs, half drunk, and sought his room, to sleep the sleep -of perfect health and perfect digestion. Whatever else Adair was, he -was a sound and vigorous human animal, with a constitution of iron. No -dreams disturbed his repose--no spectral finger of remorse pointed at -him. A child could not have lain more peacefully on its cot than he. - -It will be asked why he could not Have married Phyllis properly and -honestly? Apart from other considerations was she not the only daughter -of a millionaire father? How did Adair come to overlook this very -obvious advantage, and embark instead on all the troubles and vexations -attending an illicit connection? To answer this question it is -necessary to go back four or five years, and rake up his marriage with -Ruby Raeburn, the dancer. She, too, had been the daughter of a rich -man--Laidlaw Wright, the Michigan lumber king. Adair had thought he was -doing a very good thing for himself. To have a father-in-law who is a -"lumber king" has a pleasant sound. Without knowing exactly how it was -to happen, he looked forward confidently to a flow of dollars in his -direction, either in cash, or vicariously in royal "tips." Surely a -lumber king would take care of his own--and of his own's husband. Ruby -herself had not been above reproach in holding out the bait, and -everybody had congratulated him, or sneered at him for "marrying money." -Alas, for the disillusion that followed. Laidlaw Wright was the -hardest-fisted man on the Lakes, and no bulldog, guarding a lunch -basket, could have shown more formidable fangs than he at any hand -slipping towards his money-bags. Adair learned the sad truth that when -you possess the millionaire's daughter, it does not necessarily follow -that you possess the millionaire. His dead body must too often be -crossed first--and this event, however desirable, can not be unduly -hurried. - -And meanness was not the only drawback to Laidlaw Wright's character. -He could spend money as viciously as he withheld it, and make of it a -whip of scorpions for the scourging of sons-in-law. When Adair's -domestic unhappiness reached the acute stage, the cantankerous old -fellow jumped into the ring, snorting battle and destruction. Money was -poured out like water; giants of the bar were retained at enormous fees; -detective bureaus' worked night and day. Adair was shadowed; his door -was burst open at a time of all others when he would have much preferred -to have it stay shut; statutes of which he had never dreamed, lying -hidden and unrepealed in the dark recesses of the law, were evoked -against him with startling effect. He was sent to prison in default of -the bail he could not give. Then after eighteen weary days, which the -giants of the bar would willingly have made eighteen months, he was -tried, and his case dismissed. But as he left the court room he was -again arrested. That implacable old man, with his cohorts of lawyers -and detectives, had furbished up fresh charges. The indictment was a -mile long. Again there was bail, default, and gnashing of teeth in a -stinking cell. Of course, he had legal remedies, but these involved -legal tender. He had spent his last dollar; legal remedies had to be -paid for, and he had nothing to pay with. A wealthy and vindictive man, -if he choose to do so, and does not grudge the outlay, can make our -judicial machinery into a most serviceable steam-roller. - -After the divorce, when all seemed settled and done with, there were -alimony bomb-shells to be contended with. This tribute on his -son-in-law's freedom became the obsessing prepossession of Laidlaw -Wright's life. He subordinated the lumber business to collecting this -forty-five dollars a week, until it became Adair's fixed and unalterable -purpose to escape payment by every means in his power. North or South, -East or West, the battle went on. Injunctions, contempt proceedings, -printed forms in immense envelopes, beginning with the familiar phrase: -"You are cited to appear before Judge So-and-So to show cause why that -you, etc., etc."--rained on Adair's head wherever Saturday night might -find it. Incidentally eyes were blackened; blood streamed on box-office -floors; bandaged functionaries and limping attorneys cried for vengeance -in shabby court rooms--and not only cried, but often got it, in a -heaping measure. And afar, the lumber king, like a horrible spider whose -net covered the country from sea to sea, kept the wires busy and hot -with hate. - -When Ruby was killed in what was called "the hansom cab mystery"--an -ugly affair that was never really cleared up--the old man probably -mourned less for her than for the loss of his cheerless hobby--the -persecution of Cyril Adair. However wealthy you are, you can not move -the legal steam-roller without at least a pretense of justification; and -now the justification lay with Ruby Raeburn in the grave, as stilled as -her dancing feet, as finished and done with as the life that had gone -out so tragically. - -It had all left Adair with a profound hatred of marriage, and a still -profounder hatred of rich fathers-in-law. The one suggested jail, -mortification, alimony, raided box-offices, large and determined -individuals bursting in your doors; the other an unrelenting monster, -pitiless and crafty, trailing after you night and day, like a -bloodhound. There was no glamour to Adair in Robert Ladd's millions, -but rather a sinister and awful significance; and as for marrying -Phyllis, and putting his head again in that noose--who that had been in -hell ever willingly went back to it? The very thought made him shudder. -He might be weak and impulsive, and easily swept off his feet by her -damned beauty--but he wasn't as weak and impulsive as _that_! - - - - - *CHAPTER XIII* - - -As had been previously arranged he met her the next day at the same -place. He had come in a closed cab, which he had left a couple of -blocks away, and he insisted on their returning to it, and having out -their talk in its shelter. Phyllis demurred at first; it wore an -unpleasant look to her; it was not fear exactly--she trusted Adair too -absolutely for that--but rather a disinclination in which good taste -played the bigger part. It seemed to her low, and discreditable, and -unworthy. Her love was too fine a thing, and too dear to her, to have -it associated with dingy cushions, a dirty floor carpet, and the -vulgarizing secrecy of that shabby interior. It took some persuasion to -get her to consent; and though she did so at last under the spell of -that irresistible voice, it was with a sudden quenching of the -brightness that had illumined her heart. - -But it never occurred to her to think the worse of Adair. A man could -not be expected to have the sensitiveness of a woman. His love was like -himself, robust and masterful; he fastened a string to your little -collar, and dragged you after him with a splendid insouciance. Every -one of your four little paws might be holding back; you might be -whimpering most pitifully, but if he wanted a closed cab, in you had to -go, whether you liked it or not. Not that you would have had him -different; it was sweet to submit; and if he were big, and direct, and -unshakable--so, too, was his love. - -They drove slowly through the suburban streets, locked in each other's -arms. He kissed her back to happiness, to rapture, the discreet -twilight screening them in its shadow. Her qualms disappeared, her -reluctance, her shrinkings from the ugliness and commonness of that -horrid old box. Nothing mattered so long as they could be together, and -in her exaltation she even suffered some pangs of remorse for having -resisted his pleadings at all.--She had never cared for children, but as -her arms were clasped about his neck, she felt a welling tenderness for -him that opened her understanding to the love of a mother for her -babe--the divine compassion, the exquisite desire to protect and shield, -the willingness, if need be, to die herself rather than to have it -suffer the least of harm. She whispered this to him in words so sincere -and moving, with eyes so moist, and lips so quivering, and her whole -young face so glorified by the shining soul within, that Adair would -have been less than human had he not succumbed. - -He was abashed; his carefully rehearsed plans were glad to creep out of -sight and hide; it would have needed very little for him to fall on his -knees, penitent and ashamed, and blurt out--not the truth; the truth -wasn't tellable--but enough to make him seem less of a beast to himself, -less of a hypocrite and villain. But he paused midway; and the impulse, -which, if he had allowed it to control him might have carried him into -unsuspected regions of honor and manliness, died still-born; and left -him--if not exactly what he had been--at least not so very much the -better. - -With everything so favorable to his purpose, it continued to be a -mystery to him that he still held back. This backwardness, this fear, -was a new sensation. He had won prettier women in his day, and had won -them briskly and straightforwardly, move by move, with cool -premeditation. - -Why should he falter at this one, like a ninny? What was it about her -that checked and daunted him? She had flung herself at him; she had -neither the will nor the knowledge to protect herself; she was as -innocent as a child, and had delivered herself over to him as -guilelessly. But it was not her innocence that stood in his way; he had -no such scruples about innocence; innocence, if anything, ought to have -whetted the pursuit. It was something subtler than that--this -withholding force. It was more as though she were some proud young queen -who had been craftily made drunk with drugs, and then had been abandoned -in her helplessness to become the sport of a passing soldier.... How -surprised Adair would have been had he been told that the love always on -his lips, profaned with every breath he drew, a lie in every sense save -the very lowest, was, in all good earnest, stealthily making entry in -his heart! - -Making? Why, it had been there from the first, all unknown to him. But -like many a man the devious road seemed to him the straighter; it was -the one he meant to follow, anyhow, lead where it might; he would -overcome this strange squeamishness that annoyed and bewildered him. -What an ass he was! He remembered his first deer, and how the rifle had -shaken in his hands--how his teeth had chattered--how it had calmly -walked past him, not twelve yards away, and disappeared unscathed. The -boys had called it "buck fever," and had guyed him. Hell, this was a -kind of buck fever, too, though without the excuse of inexperience ... -but still there was no sense in hurrying matters. There was plenty of -time, old fellow, plenty of time. - -Thus the day lingered out in talk and vows and kisses, with nothing -achieved in any direction, and the situation apparently unchanged. Love -has a wonderful power of floating on without ever touching the banks of -reality! And when one of the lovers keeps the bark deliberately in -mid-stream, and the other poor lunatic is so lost in ecstasy that her -understanding is in the skies--hours can pass like minutes, and darkness -descend all unawares. - -Again they kissed and parted, and Phyllis returned home in the sweet -weariness of one who has drunk deep of the cup of love. No unanswered -questions fretted her, no disturbing thoughts of why he had been silent -on the most important thing of all. She was young, fresh, pretty, -well-born and rich--why then should she doubt? What, to a little -milliner, would have been the inevitable and all-engrossing conjecture, -troubled her not a bit. Men had been proposing to her for two years; -love out of wedlock, while it might be familiar in books, was -inconceivably remote to her; marriage was like breathing; it was one of -the great unconsidered facts of life; one loved--one married. - -Her preoccupation was rather with closer and dearer things--the varying -expressions of that fine and intensely alive face; the mouth with its -ever changing charm; that, smiling, could lift one to paradise, that, -laughing, seemed to gladden the whole world; the eyes so lustrous, so -melting, and yet that at a word could turn so fierce; the wavy hair that -was such a joy to her to caress; the broad shoulders that had pillowed -her girlish head, and had given her such a comforting sense of vigor and -strength--all her own by the divinest of divine rights. Womanlike, she -was trying to merge herself in the man she loved; to subordinate her own -individuality in his; to become, if she could, a slim, small, dainty -counterpart of this God-given creature who had stooped to her from high -Heaven itself. - -She ate a good dinner and enjoyed it; drank a glass of claret with a -connoisseur-like satisfaction in its fine bouquet; for she came of a -stock with a royal taste for pleasure, in little things as well as big. -If her father appeared somewhat constrained, and more grave and silent -than was his wont, she ascribed it to nothing more than a hard day at -the office; and exerted herself with all her superabundant good humor to -amuse and distract him. But for once she was unsuccessful, and as the -meal proceeded his brown study increased. After dinner, as usual when -they were alone, they went up to his "den," the custom being for him to -smoke a cigar while she glanced over the evening papers, and read to him -what seemed to be of interest. As she stood leaning negligently against -the mantelpiece she was surprised to notice that he did not settle -himself in his usual chair. He came up to her instead, and she felt a -sudden knocking at the heart as her uplifted eyes met his. - -"How long has this been going on?" he demanded in a low voice. - -"What do you mean, Papa?" - -He paused as though to control himself.--She knew very well what he -meant, and shivers ran down her back. - -"Your carrying on with this actor fellow. This--this Adair." He snapped -out the name as though it tasted bitter on his lips--spat it--his gray -mustache bristling. - -She was panic-stricken; her knees weakened beneath her; she had only -presence of mind enough to tell herself that lies could not help her. -But lies or not, at that moment she could not have uttered a word. It -was all she could do to hold to the mantel for support. - -Mr. Ladd drew out his pocket-book, and from it a letter. - -"A man like that always has some female consort," he went on brutally, -"some woman of his own class who follows his shabby fortunes, and -considers him for the time being as her especial property; and who -protects herself when that property is in danger by ways that suggest -themselves to vulgar and common minds. At least, I do not consider it -an unjust inference that this anonymous letter--" - -Phyllis uttered a little cry, and hid her face in her hands.--So that -was what it was?--She ought to have suspected it. But even in her shame -a dart of jealousy passed through her heart. Who was this woman who was -trying to rob her of Adair? - -"It is a typical letter of the kind," continued Mr. Ladd, with grim -persistence, "and written in a hand supposed to be disguised, as though -anything could disguise the greater matter of the writer's innate -vileness and swinishness. It starts with the usual pretense of good -will, of friendly warning; and then passes, with hardly a transition, to -charges that in a police court would entail its being cleared of any -women amongst the spectators. Frankly, Phyllis, it is abominable--though -I am going to read it to you, not with the idea of causing you pain, of -punishing you, but to show you much better than any words of mine could -do, the sort of cattle you are getting mixed up with. One judges men by -the company they keep; whoever this woman is, it may be presumed she -knows Adair well, and is a friend of his; otherwise what could prompt -all this venom? The letter is a mass of lies, but it has a side-light -value on this man you're letting fool you. They are a squalid, -contemptible crew, and all tarred with the same stick." - -He stopped to put his glasses on his nose; and smoothing out the letter, -began deliberately to read it: "'You ought to know the goings-on of that -girl of yours, and if nobody else is enough your friend to tell you, -I--'" - -But Phyllis cried out before he could proceed further. - -"Oh, Papa," she exclaimed in passionate entreaty, "don't, don't! You -mustn't! You're degrading me! I--I can't stand it!" - -"You know my reasons for wanting you to hear it," he said coldly. - -"And you are going to force me to?" - -"Yes, I am--for your own good, Phyllis." - -As their eyes met something within her seemed to break. In all her life -her father had been everything that was kind and gentle and indulgent. -His arms had ever been her refuge; she had cried out her baby sorrows on -his shoulder; how often, in contrast to other girls, she had thought -herself the most fortunate of women to have such a father. Now, in her -direst need he was pitiless and inflexible. He was determined to -humiliate her with that horrible letter--for his manner, everything, -said that it was horrible. To gain his point he was willing to sweep -away the fabric of all these years. Oh, the stupidity of it, the -cruelty! Nothing could ever be the same again between them after that. -He could degrade her, but it would cost him every iota of her love. - -Her bosom swelled. Her anger was at so white a heat that she no longer -felt the fears and shrinkings that had at first assailed her; her heart -beat high, but to another and a fiercer measure. - -What a moment for him to begin again: "'You ought to know the goings-on -of that girl of yours, and if nobody else--'" - -"Papa, _Papa_!" - -"My dear, you must not interrupt me. I insist on--" - -"Then let me read it to myself." - -He paused, looking at her in indecision; and from her to the coals in -the grate. She perceived the meaning of his hesitation, and laughed -scornfully. - -"Oh, you can trust me," she said, holding out her hand. "Do you want my -word, or what? I won't destroy it. Rest assured I shall give you the -pleasure of knowing I am reading every word of it." - -He resigned it to her, tugging at his mustache, and watching her -covertly as she moved nearer the light and began to read. He marveled -at her composure, her decision. She was not evading the ugly task--her -eyes moved too slowly for that, and her face reflected too clearly the -unsparing comments on her behavior. - -It was coarse beyond belief. Only a man half out of his wits could have -allowed any woman of his family to read such a thing. Many of the -expressions she had never heard before, but it is a peculiarity of gross -Anglo-Saxon to be readily understood. Nothing was lost on Phyllis, -either in the description of the man she loved, or the accusations of -the vilest kind leveled at herself. It was an infamous production, -soiling and disgusting, nakedly spiteful, and nakedly pornographic. - -She perused it unflinchingly to the end; studied the signature, "One who -knows," and handed it back to her father. - -"I thought people were put in prison for writing such letters," she said -in an even voice. - -"So they are," he returned curtly, "though that isn't quite the point." - -"What is the point?" - -"To know how much of it is true." - -Again her composure startled him. "Is it possible you believe any of -it?" she asked. - -"Yes, I do," he said.--He was holding the letter in his hand, like a -lawyer in court, cross-examining a witness. He was determined to get at -the bottom of all this. - -"Is it true you went to the theater twice?" - -"As a spectator--yes." - -"Is it true that you wrote a letter to him?" - -"Yes." - -"Is it true you invited him here?" - -"Yes, he came once." - -"And it's true you met him afterwards on one of the streets in the -Richmond district?" - -"Yes." - -"It's true you let him kiss you there before everybody--embrace you--hug -you like a silly servant-girl?" - -She ignored the insult, and answered imperturbably: "It was a deserted -place; I didn't know any one was spying on us." - -"And it's true to-day you met him again?" - -"Yes." - -"And drove together in a closed cab?" - -"Yes." - -"Now, Phyllis, my girl, on your honor; I am asking you this as your -father; I have the right to ask it, and the right to a sacredly truthful -answer--the affair has gone no further than this?" - -"No." - -"On your honor?" - -"On my honor." - -"And all the rest of it?"--He touched the letter. - -"Lies, Papa--revolting, hideous lies." - -He stumbled towards his chair; seated himself in it; reached for the -cigar-box. He had expected a scene; he had expected tears, pleading, -and repentance. He had a penetrating sense of having mismanaged -everything. Perhaps he ought not to have shown her that letter. It had -shocked her through and through, but not in the way he had intended. He -had meant it to be like a surgeon's knife--one sure swift stroke, and -she was to rise cured, disillusioned. The effect had been -disconcertingly different; he had affronted her to the quick, he had -roused a defiance all the more to be feared because it was cool, -subdued, controlled--the kind that is apt to last.--He lit his cigar, -and blew out breath after breath of smoke. He must not make another -mistake. He would think a little while before he began again. - -She glided slowly towards the door, but with an air so unconcerned, so -free from any suggestion of flight, that he suspected nothing. The fact -of her leaving the door ajar seemed to imply an immediate return. -Several minutes passed before he suddenly became uneasy. So peremptory -was his conviction that she was near that he cried: "Phyllis, Phyllis," -before rising to find out what had become of her. But she was not in -the corridor outside. He sought her boudoir--nor was she here either. -Her bedroom off it? It was empty, too. Thoroughly alarmed, he descended -the stairs, softly calling out, "Phyllis, Phyllis!" He was answered by -a servant's voice below: "Is it you, Sir?" - -"Yes, Henry, I am looking for Miss Phyllis?" - -"She went out a minute ago, Sir." - -"Went out?" - -"Yes, Sir." - -Good God, she was gone! - - - - - *CHAPTER XIV* - - -Once outside the door, she had raced downstairs like the wind, put on -her hat anyhow, and sped into the darkness, without waiting for wrap or -gloves. Her first idea had been to reach the theater, but as she turned -down side streets in order to evade pursuit and get the Fairmount Avenue -car line, she realized that this involved too much time. Her watch, -hastily looked at under a lamp, showed that it was after eight o'clock, -and that she could not hope to gain the theater before the first act -began. She decided to telephone instead, and accordingly, walking very -fast, and sometimes running until a pain in her side forced her to -desist, she made her way to Fairmount Avenue, and to a drug-store she -knew to be there. It was the matter of a moment to look up the number -of the Thalia Theater, unhook the receiver, and get central. - -"Nick-el," murmured that impersonal arbiter of human destinies. - -"I don't understand--please give me my number, I'm in such a hurry." - -"Nick-el!" - -"Drop a nickel in the slot, Miss," said the clerk helpfully. - -She had come away without her purse. She hadn't a penny! - -As quick as thought she pulled off one of her rings, and laid it on the -counter. - -"I have forgotten my purse," she said. "Please let me have a quarter, -and I'll redeem the ring to-morrow." - -She had been resourceful enough to recollect she needed more than a -nickel--there was the trolley fare to the theater and back. - -The clerk took the ring with no great willingness; examined it with -every apparent intention of denying her request; then examined her with -the same sharp look. The horrid creature recognized her, and his manner -changed to a cringing deference. "Oh, Miss Ladd, I beg your pardon, I -didn't know it was you, Miss Ladd. A quarter? Why certainly, Miss -Ladd. Only too happy to oblige you, Miss Ladd. Take back your ring, -and pay any time at your convenience, Miss Ladd." He rang open his cash -register, and passed her three nickels and a dime, together with the -ring. "Put it back where it belongs," he said, smirking and rubbing his -hands. "My, what would the boss say to me if I told him I had kept Miss -Phyllis Ladd's ring!" - -She thanked him, and again gave the number at the telephone, dropping in -the nickel that had cost her so much. The clerk, though he had moved -away, was all eyes and ears, and she had an unpleasant sensation of -being watched. But it was too late to draw back now. Her need was too -urgent, too desperate for such irritating trifles to deter her from her -purpose. The horrid creature would stare. Well, let him stare! He -would chatter about it, too, of course. Well, let him chatter! - -"Thalia Theater--box-office." - -"I want to speak to Mr. Adair at once." - -"It's impossible--he's in his dressing-room, and we ring up in eight -minutes." - -"I simply have to speak to him." - -"Can't do it--it's against the rules." - -"Oh, you must, you simply must!" - -"Who are you?" - -"Miss Ladd!" - -"Who did you say?" - -"Miss Ladd--L-A-D-D." - -"What is it, please, that you want to see Mr. Adair about?" - -"Something very important." - -"I'm sorry, but I can't do it." - -"No, no, please. Mr. Adair will never forgive you if you don't." Then -she had an inspiration. Where or how she had learned the name she hardly -knew, but it flashed across her mind at this moment. "Is Mr. Merguelis -there?" - -"I am Mr. Merguelis." - -"Mr. Tom Merguelis?" - -"Yes." - -"Then you might know who I am. Mr. Adair--" - -"Oh, say, yes--you're not the little lady that he--" - -"Yes, that's me." - -"But, my dear, he's in his dressing-room, and that's on the level." - -"I simply must talk to him for a second, and you must go and get him." - -"Hello, hello--is that you? Hello--yes, my dear, I'm sending for him. -Please hold the line." - -What an age it seemed, standing there with the receiver to her ear, and -her heart bursting with impatience. Meaningless scraps of talk strained -her attention; when these stopped she was in terror lest she had been -cut off; at last there was the peculiar jarring and disturbance that -showed someone getting into touch at the other end, followed by Adair's -strong clear challenge. - -"Who wants Mr. Adair?" - -"I do--it's Phyllis." - -"Oh, my little girl, I'm in a frightful rush. Hurry up, tell me what's -the matter?" - -"I want to see you as soon as I can--something awful has happened." - -"What?" - -"I can't tell you here--but can't you guess?" - -"Trouble at home?" - -"Yes." - -"Found out?" - -"Yes." - -"Your father?" - -"Yes." - -Adair paused. Events were moving faster than he had anticipated. He -was both thrilled and bewildered at the suddenness of it all. - -"It's risky," he said, in a voice that shook a little, "but you'll have -to come up and see me here--there's nothing else for it." - -"That's what I want to do," she answered. - -"I'll fix it up with the door-keeper to take you to my dressing-room. -Just say you have an appointment with me, and he'll understand. Wait -there for me until the first act is over--will you?" - -"Yes, Cyril." - -"And you will excuse me if I run? They'll have to hold the curtain as -it is." - -"Yes, yes--and I'll be there." - -"Au revoir, sweetheart!" - -"Good-by--I won't be long." - - -The stage-door, like most stage-doors, was to be found in a cut-throat -alley, so dark, dangerous, and forbidding in its aspect that it took all -of Phyllis' courage to enter it. A ratty-looking individual, so -compactly built into the entrance that he could open the door by a shove -of his boot, exerted this labor-saving device in answer to her knock, -and glowered at her from over the paper he was reading. - -"What do you want?" demanded the ratty individual. - -"I have an appointment with Mr. Adair." - -He rose without a word; and leading her up some steps, guided her inside -the theater. In the twilight of the wings were some stage-hands in -overalls; an actor whom she recognized as the wicked prince, sitting on -a soap-box, waiting listlessly for his cue; from the stage itself came -the sound of voices raised to an unreal pitch, and strangely exciting -and fantastic, in a cadence that was neither recitative nor speech. She -could not help noticing, even in her agitation, the shabby, dilapidated, -disorderly appearance of everything--the ropes, the dusty props, the -frayed material of the scenes, the general air of -comfortlessness--receiving the shock that comes to every one on first -seeing the theater from the wrong side. But the ratty individual gave -her no time to take more than a passing glance, leading the way with -whispered warnings through a gorge of canvas, and down a twisting iron -stair to the dressing-rooms below. He stopped at one of the little -cabin-like doors, opened it, and ushered her in. Then he left her, and -shuffled away with diminishing footfalls. - -The dressing-room was bald, bare, uncarpeted, and painted a staring -white. Below a mirror flanked by two flaring gas-jets there ran a sort -of shelf on which were grease-paints, crayons, brushes, a pot of -cold-cream, a pot of rouge, and other necessaries for "making up." From -nails on the wall--common, every-day nails--there straggled an untidy -line of men's clothes. On a box in the corner was a wash-basin, -pitcher, soap, and a towel that was none too clean. Three empty chairs, -and a wall decoration completed the picture. The wall decoration was a -printed notice, in large and emphatic letters: "Smoking positively -prohibited in this theater. Ladies must not use alcohol curling-irons." - -Most young women, in a situation so equivocal and so unfamiliar, would -have been ill at ease, frightened, apprehensive of many vague and dimly -suspected dangers. But Phyllis' faith in Adair had none of this -faltering quality. She loved, and loving she trusted. Her tremors had -ended the moment the door had closed her in--the moment, in fact, when -the others would have trembled most. To her, on the contrary, the little -room breathed security for the very reason that it was Adair's. With -adorable folly she pressed kisses on all his outstretched possessions; -nuzzled her cheek against his coat; put her little foot beside one of -his big man's shoes, delighting in the contrast--and altogether felt -greatly comforted and refreshed. - -After a while she heard a tremendous commotion overhead that swelled, -sank and swelled again as the house broke into applause at the end of -the act. There was a lumbering, scratchy, pattering sound as of a dozen -pianos being moved at once by stalwart men in slippers--it was the new -scene being set. The passageway outside, previously so still, resounded -with a rush of feet--with exclamations and laughter as the company -scudded to make their respective changes. The door was flung open, and -there, brisk and smiling, on the threshold stood Correze! - -Phyllis ran to his arms, and hiding her face against him began to cry. -She was so happy, so wretched; the misery of that last hour had tried -her more than she knew; her joy at seeing Adair seemed to exhaust the -little strength she had left, and her conflicting emotions could find -vent only in tears. How sweet it was to be petted, to be soothed--to -feel so small, and weak, and helpless in that powerful clasp! Her tears -flowed afresh. Flowed at the thought of her love for him, of his love -for her, at the beauty, wonder, and solace of it all. Nothing could -ever harm them as long as they had each other, nothing, nothing. - -She made him take a chair, and seating herself at his feet crossed her -arms on his knees and looked up at him. In this position it seemed -easier to confide, easier to answer his persistent questions, easier at -the same time to satisfy her craving to nestle close. As Adair heard of -the letter he turned as black as a thunder-cloud and his hands clenched. - -"I know whom I've to thank for that!" he exclaimed furiously. "The -damned little treacherous hound, I could choke her for it! I've seen -something working in her eyes all along, but I never dreamed she could -be as low and contemptible as that! And so she was keeping tab on us, -was she, with all her mean little eyes and ears, the dyed toad!" - -"Cyril, you really know who it is?" - -He made a hissing sound--a disgusted assent. "She isn't twenty feet from -here," he exclaimed, "unless she is at the key-hole this moment." He -rose; stepped to the door, and looked out. "Not here," he said. - -"But tell me, is she one of the actresses in the company?" - -"Never you mind," he returned roughly; and then, with a quick remorse at -the look in Phyllis' face, he apologized in a roundabout fashion by -denouncing the stage in general. "It's a low, dirty business," he -cried, "and the people in it are a low, dirty lot; and I guess I'm not -so damned much better myself; and if you had a spark of sense you'd -clear out, and never see me again! Do you hear what I'm telling you, -little chap? Do you hear, Phyllis girl?" He put down his hand, and -caught her ear between his thumb and finger, giving it a shake. "Skin -out, you darling baby. Your father's right. Go back with my -compliments, and tell him I said so!" - -His jeering tone hurt her; there was too much sincerity in his -self-contempt, too genuine a ring to his proposed dismissal. The -contradictory creature, stung to the quick by that letter, and -indignantly conscious of much of its truth, was floundering towards -righteousness, like a walrus after a floe. Hell, he didn't mean her any -harm. Let her get out. - -"You'd better hurry," he said, pinching her ear again. "I'm just a -cheap actor, as common as the dirt in the road, and you're a beautiful -young lady a million times too good for this kind of game. All that you -can get out of it is dishonor and disgrace. Go away--let's drop -it--love somebody who's worth loving." - -He tried to push her from him, but she clung only the tighter, her face -paling at his earnestness, and stubbornly looking up at his. - -"You couldn't say that if you were--what you say you are." - -"How do you know it isn't a trick!" he exclaimed, "just another move in -the game--just to get you a little further out of your depth, and then -drown you?" His hands closed round her neck with brutal pleasure in her -youth, her softness, her delicacy, her powerlessness. - -"It's strange," he said wonderingly, "but at this moment when you have -never been more tempting to me, I am willing to let you go--want to let -you go. It's the first good resolution in my life, yet you stick here -like an infatuated little noodle, waiting for it to pass." - -She snuggled closer against him. - -"Am I tempting?" - -"My God, yes." - -"And you love me?" - -"Oh, my darling, I do, I do!" - -"And wouldn't it be nice for a poor little lonesome cheap actor, who's -really a great big splendid noble person of genius, if he only knew -it--to have me to pet him and love him and adore him, and kiss away his -morbid, silly moods, and make such a darling baby of him that he'd burst -out crying if I were out of his sight a minute?" - -He looked at her sharply for an underlying meaning--a comprehension--an -assent. But her candor and innocence were transparent; the purity -beneath those limpid depths shone like a diamond in a pool. Her love -took no thought of anything base or wrong, either in him or in her; all -she sought was the assurance that he loved her, and wanted her; and this -achieved she was content to leave the rest to him with unquestioning -faith. She did not come of the class to whom marriage is vividly seen -as a protection, a safe-guard, a coveted lien on a pocket-book and a -man, enforceable by the police; to her it was more one of those -inevitable formalities that attend all the big events of life, from -being born to being buried, and which one accepts as a matter of course. - -Adair, in a gust of passion, caught her up on his knees, and crushed her -unresisting body in his arms. Everything was forgotten in the maddening -rapture of the moment. The fragrance of her young beauty over-mastered -him. His head reeled in the greatest of all intoxications--the -woman-drunkenness that makes men crazy. Between his clenched teeth he -whispered: "You are mine, and I am going to keep you--you shall never -get away now. You had your chance, but it's gone, fool that I was ever -to offer it. But now I'll kill you first; do you hear, Phyllis, I'll -kill you first, for you're mine, body and soul, and you've gone too far -ever to draw back." His voice sank lower; he was beside himself; all he -knew was that she was shaking convulsively--that her face, her lips were -burning--that love, shame, devouring fever all flamed in the eyes she -tried to hide from him. - -A knock at the door startled him to his feet. Rap, rap, rap! - -"You're called, Mr. Adair," said the voice from without. - -"All right, Williams!" - -His quick, matter-of-fact tone was as much a shock to Phyllis as the -interruption itself. To fall from the clouds, and then land so squarely -and coolly on the earth below was a performance disturbing to witness. -It seemed to cast suspicion on his sincerity up above. But the -misgiving was a fleeting one, for as he turned to her, she perceived in -his air of concern and resolution that she was still the dominant -thought in his mind. - -"See here, Phyllis," he said, speaking fast, "this means only one thing. -The company leaves Saturday night after the show to jump to Ferrisburg. -You must come with me--that's all there is to it.--Will you?" - -She bowed her head, for somehow she could not answer in words. - -"It won't do for us to see each other till then; but you ring me up on -Saturday between twelve and one at the St. Charles Hotel, and we'll fix -up the dates. Have you got that straight?" - -She bowed her head again, more overcome than ever. - -"Don't worry about a trunk, or any damned foolishness of that sort. -Trunks have busted more elopements than six-shooters--just a nightie and -a tooth-brush, and we'll manage the rest at Ferrisburg!" His glance -sought for some evasion, some backwardness, but there was neither. - -"It's the only thing to do," she said simply. "Only, only--" She was -holding fast to his hand, swaying a little. - -He waited for some objection; some silly, feminine obstacle-- - -"You do love me, don't you?" she asked as pleadingly as a child. "If -you love me I could do anything. Tell me you love me, Cyril." - -He kissed her hastily, saying "yes," and again "yes," and ran out of the -dressing-room. A thin deferential man peeped in. "I'm Mr. Adair's -dresser, Miss," he said. "He told me to show you the way out. If you -would be so good as to follow me, Miss." - - * * * * * - -"Good-night, Miss!" - - - - - *CHAPTER XV* - - -In the meanwhile, Mr. Ladd, closely buttoned up and walking to keep -himself warm, restlessly paced the drive-way, awaiting Phyllis' return. -At every nearing footfall he would stiffen and stop, and his throat -would contract with something very much like trepidation. His anger was -all gone. In its place was not only contrition and self-reproach for -having shown her that letter, but a very real alarm of the situation he -had precipitated. He had been inconceivably stupid--inconceivably unkind -and blundering. He had driven the girl straight into the fellow's arms, -and had now doubled what he had to undo. Looking back on it he seemed -to have said everything he ought not to have said; done everything he -ought not to have done. It was a case for frankness, tenderness, and -considerate understanding. Hurry, too, in such matters, was the root of -all evil. Romance, like faith, grew with persecution. Gad, if she -really thought herself in love with this egregious actor, he would put -his pride in his pocket, invite him to the house, pretend to like him, -and thus earn the right to stipulate for conventions and a long -engagement. No cruel father here, but a cool man of the world, craftily -leaving it to others to tittle-tattle, to disparage, and best of all to -deride with a laughter infinitely more effective than the sternest and -angriest of arguments. Yes, that was the program and he must put an -iron hold upon himself to see that he did not swerve from it by a hair. - -He ran forward in the dark as he heard some one coming, and recognized -Phyllis dimly against the lighted street behind. - -"Phyllis!" he cried, "Phyllis!" and he caught her hand and held it. Her -touch, even more than her silence, told him how estranged they were. -His agitation paralyzed his tongue; he hardly knew how to begin; he -murmured under his breath, "Forgive me, forgive me"; and then, louder, -with an uncontrollable resentment that flashed up in spite of all his -self-warnings: "Don't deny it--you've been to him!" - -"I wasn't going to deny it, Papa." - -"Where? At the theater?" - -"Yes." - -"You went there alone--not even a maid with you? Have you parted with -all sanity?" - -His tone was overbearing, harsh, scornful. Alas, for his good and wise -intentions! In the impact of two stubborn natures, each rousing in the -other an invincible antagonism, there could be no tenderness, no -consideration. Each was fighting with the flag nailed to the mast; she -for Adair, he for his daughter. - -"It was your doing, Papa. I had no alternative." - -"Oh, what a lie! I'd sooner have gone with you myself, however bitter -or humiliating it might have been for me." - -The picture of such an escort to such a rendezvous made her laugh in -spite of herself. It was not the kind of laughter to soften or turn -away wrath. To Ladd it seemed heartlessness itself. - -"It's unbelievable," he broke out, "my God, Phyllis, what am I to say to -you? Isn't the man self-condemned on the face of it--with his closed -cabs, and underhanded meetings, and now stripping you of every rag of -reputation by letting you come to him at his theater? And what do you -mean by the theater, anyhow?--His dressing-room, of course?" - -"Yes." - -Her answer wrung a groan from him. - -"Phyllis, Phyllis!" he exclaimed. Then in an altered voice, full of -irritated reasonableness, he went on: "Do you realize that we could have -had the same--well, disagreement--over that Pastor fellow you were -engaged to? Wouldn't you have been just as wilful in his case--just as -sure? Wouldn't it have been the same with Baron von Piller if I had -objected violently at the time you engaged yourself to him? Look back -on both these affairs. You aren't altogether a fool. Mayn't this be a -third mistake?" - -She seized his hand in both her own, and squeezed it with all her -strength. - -"It's because I love him _like that_! Not the love that comes of -compliments, of attentions and flowers, but _that_!--But of course you -don't understand--you can't." - -Mr. Ladd ignored this slight on his more limited knowledge, though his -lip curled sardonically under his mustache. - -"I am more concerned in how he loves you," he said. "He's acting like a -cad, and you know it." - -"Papa!" - -His voice outrang hers. "Love," he cried, with piercing contempt, "that -kind of love is the commonest thing there is. There isn't a drab on the -streets who hasn't tasted it to the dregs. God help you when you wake -up, and see this man as he is--schemer, scoundrel, blackguard. Do you -think I don't know? Do you think I haven't run across hundreds? Do you -think I'm going to let an adventurer like that get his hooks into you, -and drag you down into his own filthy mire? You're the only thing I have -in life; I live for you; there isn't an hour of the day when you're not -in my mind. You can't dismiss all this at the nod of a stranger. It -carries its obligations--for you, too; the obligation of more than -twenty years; not for feeding and clothing you, I don't mean anything so -banal--but the deeper one of a love that has kept you warm and -happy--that has grown without your knowing it to be a very part of you, -as it is all of me." - -Had he stopped there the harm might still have been undone. But with a -perversity inexplicable at that moment when the tide had turned, and -responsive tears were streaming down those girlish cheeks, he had a -sudden outburst of rancor that destroyed everything he had gained. - -"To think that anybody named Cyril Adair--my God, _Cyril Adair_, with -its suggestion of sticky sweetness, and tinsel, and footlights, and mock -heroics--could come between two sane, grown-up people like you and -me!--Cyril Adair!" he repeated, and laughed mirthlessly. - -There was nothing he could have urged against Adair that could have hurt -her more. A young and devoted woman can always find excuses for her -lover's past. It belongs to a time before her little hand had been -stretched out to save him, before she had brought hope and light to one -who had never known either, and had consequently--and -naturally--abandoned himself to despair. With a feeling surely divine, -and often justified by results, she never doubts her ability to wash -that black sheep to the fleecy whiteness of her own dainty wool. But -poor Cyril's name was a very different matter; it was worse in its -pinchbeck and aristocratic pretensions, and school-girl-novel -picturesqueness than the most crimson of sins. It would still be -stamped on the luckless sheep after he had been whitened as white as -snow--the Scarlet Letter of vulgarity, so to speak--affronting good -taste on every hill-side. Nothing more showed the degree of Phyllis' -infatuation than that she had been able to tolerate this name; and now, -to have it flung in her face, with an emphasis so sneering--the one -taunt for which she had no answer--was more than she felt herself able -to bear. - -She drooped beside her father, realizing the futility of any further -argument, and of a sudden so tired that the woes of the world seemed to -be on her shoulders. Her voice, when at last she broke the silence, was -weary, though with none of the weariness of surrender, but rather that -of a settled and altogether sad determination. - -"We seem to have said all there is to say--good night, Papa." - -He would have detained her, but she moved away from him, and preceded -him into the house. He followed, respecting her wish to terminate the -scene. He was weary, too, and no less willing to be alone. He had to -think and to act, and much had to be done that night. - - -They met at breakfast as usual. She kissed him dutifully, and poured -out his coffee as though this Wednesday morning was no different from -any other Wednesday morning. They talked on indifferent subjects until -the servants had left them. Then the suspended battle was renewed. - -"My dear," said Mr. Ladd, with an uncertain smile, "I am thinking of -sending you on a visit to your Aunt Sarah's. It will be better for both -of us to stay apart for a time, and see matters with a little more -calmness and--consideration for each other. There's no sense in being -over-hasty, and making momentous resolutions in this twinkling-of-an-eye -sort of way. There's lots of time--oceans of time. You may change, I -may change--for I don't set up to be inflexible, and neither do you. -Yes, you'll go to your Aunt Sarah's, and then to Paris with her if you -like, or Monte Carlo. I guess I can fix it up to the nines, even to a -look-in at Paquin's, and one of those expensive strolls down the Rue de -La Paix. Go ahead--why not?" - -"I'd rather stay here, Papa." - -"Phyllis, this is a request--a favor to me. I want you to." - -"When?" - -"Why not the noon train? I've taken a drawing-room for you, and a berth -for your maid--and Sarah's expecting you." - -"You told her?" - -He made no attempt to avoid the implication of her eyes. - -"No," he replied. "No, I don't believe in roaring out your troubles -over the long distance 'phone. It was enough to call it an impulse. -With you, my dear, that is always a sufficient reason."--They both -laughed, and Mr. Ladd's anxious cordiality redoubled at so favorable a -symptom. "If it's the real thing, Phyllis, time won't hurt it." - -"It is the real thing, Papa." - -"But you will go?" - -"No." - -"Phyllis, I insist." - -"I'm sorry, but it's impossible." - -"You have to. You must." - -"I won't!" - -It is the terrible part of stereotyped situations that people will make -use of the stereotyped expressions that go with them. Mr. Ladd was the -kindest and most devoted father on earth, yet the venerable formula rose -to his lips: "You defy me under my own roof?" - -It of course forced out the stereotyped reply: "I can leave it." - -Mr. Ladd, in silence, looked at her long and steadily; then he bent his -head. She saw nothing but the iron-gray hair; the stooping, dejected -shoulders; the hand, lying as limp as dead, on the damask cloth. - -"Papa?" - -No answer. - -"Papa?" - -She ran to his side, all revolt gone, her only thought to comfort him. -Her bare arms entwined themselves about his neck in a paroxysm of -remorse; her bosom swelled; her voice was incoherent as she lavished her -young tenderness upon him. It was a moment that would decide her life. -Had her father left the initiative to her, had he been content to accept -mutely these tokens of her surrender--he would have won, then and there, -and nothing again would ever have come between them. But with blind -stupidity he had to persevere with the intention their clash had -interrupted. - -"I will tell you my real reason for wanting you to get away," he said. -"It wasn't what you thought at all--it was to spare you unnecessary -pain. Last night I sent Reynolds, our best secret-service man, to New -York with _carte blanche_ to confer with the Pinkertons and ransack this -fellow's record from top to bottom. From what Reynolds told me he -already knew--I mean what's said down-town, I believe it will be a black -one, so black that there won't be any question about your giving him -up--just on the facts brought out--facts that can not be disproved or -contested. Reynolds--" - -"But, Papa, I don't understand. You are setting detectives to go back -over his life, like a criminal? _Detectives?_" - -"Yes." - -"But how dishonorable, how infamous!" - -"Oh, it's done every day; it's common, my dear; if the man's straight it -can't hurt him--but if he has anything to hide, why, we turn on the -search-light, and find out what's wrong.--It's all done secretly; he -won't know; don't worry about that.--I expect a full report in a few -days, and would rather not have you here when I get it." - -"And do you think that's fair or right, or anything but--fiendish?" - -"How do you know he isn't married, Phyllis?"--he shot this at her -mercilessly. "How do you know anything except what he's told you? You -may be willing to believe him, and all that--but I'm your father, and I -want to _know_, and by God, I'm going to know!" - -"Papa, don't!" - -"Aha, you're not very confident, are you?" - -"He's a man. I don't doubt he's been foolish, and bad, and fast, but to -see it written down cold-bloodedly on sheets of paper is more than I can -bear. I am willing to ignore that; I am willing to take him as he is -_now_. Oh, Papa, a woman can forgive so much." - -"Yes, my dear, and a great deal that a father never could." - -"I beg you, Papa, I implore you to telegraph to them to stop." - -"It's too late--besides it has to be done; I insist on it; I'm going to -strip that man's past to the bone." - -"Even if it costs you me? Even if this is the end of everything between -us?" - -"Fiddle-de-dee, these theatrics are unworthy of you! You're going to -take the noon train to Sarah's, and behave yourself; and this business, -however disagreeable to both of us, has got to go through." - -Her lips tightened mutinously. She was not a young woman who could be -driven. - -"I'll stay here, or walk right out of your house--and you know where." - -"Then stay," he cried, rising wrathfully, "and may God forgive you for -the misery you are bringing down on me. I'm only trying to do what's -best, and you treat me as though I was one of that fellow's cruel -parents on the stage! It's no time to mince matters, and I tell you -straight out, Phyllis, he's a blackguard and a scoundrel, and when you -see the Pinkertons' report, I guess you'll go down on your knees and beg -my pardon for your heartlessness and obstinacy." - -He glared at her, expecting a retort that would add fresh fuel to his -anger, but she was silent, downcast, trembling. The answer she made was -to herself, inaudible save to her anguished soul: "Oh, that Saturday -night were here!" - - - - - *CHAPTER XVI* - - -The four days that followed were almost unendurable in the strain they -entailed. Phyllis was heavy with her secret; beset by emotions so -conflicting that they seemed to rend her to pieces; forlorn and desolate -under her father's studied coldness. The detectives' report did not -come, or was withheld perhaps,--but the apprehension of it was always -hanging horribly above her head. It was not the facts themselves she -feared most, though she dreaded them, too; it was to hear them -tauntingly on her father's lips; to be forced to stand, and listen, and -cringe at what the human ferrets had unearthed.--Anxious days; leaden -days; sad, introspective, interminable days, never to be recalled in -after life without a peculiar depression. - -On Saturday, at the stroke of noon, she was in a telephone booth, with -shivers cascading down her back, and the eagerest heart in Carthage -thumping under her breast. In the time she took to get her number, she -had decided to go, not to go--then again to go, then again not to go. -It was awful, and she couldn't; it was awful, and she would! - - -"Hello, is that the St. Charles Hotel?" - -"Yes, Chincholchell, whodyerwant?" - -"Mr. Cyril Adair?" - -"Hold the line." - -He must have been waiting there for his voice answered immediately, -abrupt and deep: "Hello, is that you?" - -"Yes,--you know who." - -"Is it all right--you are coming?" - -"If you want me to." - -His only answer to that was a laugh that shook the wire. How manly and -confident it sounded in contrast to her own quavering whisper! - -"Now, listen, you darling baby, and get this right. We're to pick up -the Alleghany local at ten minutes past midnight, and at half-past -eleven I'll have Tom Merguelis waiting for you in a cab, across the -Avenue on the southeastern corner. Can you manage to get out of the -house, do you think?" - -"Oh, yes." - -"No trunk, you know--just the few things you need, and the fewer the -better." - -"I understand." - -"Find Tom--that's all you have to do--and the rest is for him." - -"Yes, Cyril." - -"Say it as though you meant it! I'd rather have you back out now than -fail me at the last moment. That's an awful faint 'yes.'" - -"Don't blame me if I'm scared--you'd be scared too, in my place." - -"Well, how scared are you going to be at half-past eleven--that's the -real point of it?" - -"Cyril, dearest?" - -"Yes, my darling." - -"I'm coming, I want to come, I'm crazy to come--and you mustn't think -for a single moment that I won't." - -"That's the way to talk!" - -"And you'll be good to me, won't you?" - -"My precious!" - -"And love me, oh, so well?" - -"Yes, yes!" - -"And I'll try to be the best little wife that ever made a man warm, and -comfortable, and happy--and I'm going to keep your heart-buttons sewed -on as well as the others--and darn your beautiful big soul with -girl-silk--and dress you every day in a lovely new suit of kisses, so -that people will turn round on the street, and ask who's your tailor! -And Cyril?" - -"Yes, sweetheart?". - -"I'm the happiest girl in the world, and the luckiest! And I'm not -scared a bit, and I'll be there at half-past eleven, and I love you, and -I'm going to run away with you; and I'm glad I'm going to run away with -you, and I'm twenty-one, and my own mistress, and as bold as brass, and -six policemen couldn't stop me, and I'm just a little slave panting for -her master, and I've gnawed the ropes through with my teeth, and no one -shall ever tie me up again, or keep me away from you, Amen!" - -Again there was that manly, confident laugh. - -"I think that little slave had better run home again and pretend to tie -up," he said. "It would spoil everything if your father got wind of -this--I know those rich old fellows--they can be a power for mischief -whether the law is on their side or not. Good-by, my darling, take care -of yourself, and look out for Tommy at eleven thirty. Good-by!" - -"I hope we will never say that word to each other again," exclaimed -Phyllis. "It's a horrid word and I hate it. Good-by, Cyril, and don't -forget your little slave, counting the minutes at home!" - -"Ta, ta, my lamb, I won't forget her. Couldn't if I would, ta, ta!" - -There is no harder task than to fold one's hands and wait. Adair had -his matinee and his evening performance to engross his thoughts, and -allay to some degree his fever of anticipation. But Phyllis had no such -resource. Restless, nervous, on edge with suspense--fits of joy -alternating with craven terror--she wore out the longest afternoon of -her life, and an evening that was more trying still. Her father, to make -matters worse, attempted some advances; spoke to her with unexpected -kindness; hovered on the brink of another appeal. What a little Judas -she felt, sitting opposite him for perhaps the last time, and -maintaining a constraint that was, indeed, her armor, for if she -responded at all she knew she would never go that night. So she parried -and fenced, and kept the conversation impersonal at any hazard, while -his face grew steadily more overcast, and the lines of his forehead -deepened. She excused herself early, pleading fatigue, and relaxed her -attitude to kiss him tenderly good night. - -"It'll all come right before long," she murmured softly. "Good night, -my darling daddy, and remember I love you whatever happens." - -She was off before he could take advantage of a mood so melting. But he -felt much consoled, nevertheless. - -"She's coming round," he said to himself. "I might have known she -would. That's the comfort of her being such a good girl, and so -intelligent!" - -Up-stairs, the young lady thus complacently described was stripping off -her dinner gown, and wondering what dress she would replace it with. -She was the daintiest of soubrettes in her long dark-red silk stockings, -and Watch, her Russian poodle, gazed at her with an approving, -first-row-of-the-orchestra expression that made him look too wicked and -dissipated for anything. She gave him a gentle kick on the nose to -remind him that staring wasn't gentlemanly, and finally chose a blue -tailor-made by Redfern. When this was on, the rest of her preparations -were easy. She could not well take Watch, so she took his collar, and -this was the first to go into the little hand-bag. A nightgown -followed, a pair of stockings, tooth-brush, comb and brush, -tooth-powder, some handkerchiefs, the photographs of her father and -mother, still in their frames, and a pair of patent leather slippers -with gilt buckles. Surely no little bride of her importance and social -position had ever set forth with so slender a trousseau. There it all -was, dog-collar below, slippers on top, in a bag no bigger than an -exaggerated purse. She smiled a little tremulously as she looked at it, -touched as only a woman could be by the magnitude of her sacrifice. Her -clothes and her father--tears for both, thus equally abandoned, suffused -her eyes. - -The next thing was a note of farewell, to be found the following morning -on her unused pillow. "I am going away with Mr. Adair," she wrote, -"taking my own life in my own hands for better or worse. Whether we are -to be friends--you and I--depends entirely upon yourself, although -alienation from you will be very hard for me to bear. Forgive me if you -can, and do not let your disappointment and chagrin embitter you against -me; or what would hurt me almost as much--against him. To-night when I -kissed you it was good-by, and if it is for ever it will be your own -fault, and very, very cruel, for I love you, dearest father, I love you. -Ever your devoted Phyllis." - -By half-past nine everything was ready; and it was with a consuming -impatience that she went into her boudoir with Watch, and ensconsed -herself on the sofa to wait. A confidential Russian poodle can be of -great help to a young lady in distress. Watch's sympathy; Watch's -certainty of everything coming out right; Watch's implied determination -to soften the blow to Mr. Ladd; Watch's willingness to whine over the -general tragedy of things--all were whimsically comforting. Best of -all, he could listen for ever and ever with one ear cocked up, and never -lose for an instant his air of highly gratified interest. And what -didn't he hear during that hour and three quarters on the sofa! What -secrets of longing and tenderness, of girlish hopes, of girlish dreams, -of delicious falterings and trepidations--all breathed into that woolly -ear! - -Then came the suffocating moment of departure--the quieting of an unruly -friend--the peeping from the door; the tip-toeing down the stairs; the -panicky stops to cower and listen; the stealthy passage of the great dim -hall; the groping for bolts and chains; the heavy door swinging heavily -back; the cold, dark, starry night beyond; the egress into it; the wild -sense of escape and freedom; the sound of gravel under the eager little -feet; the gate-way; the wide silent Avenue; the glimmering lights of the -cab at the farther corner; and-- - -"Yes, I'm Tom Merguelis, Miss. Jump in--everything is ready." - -She discovered herself sitting beside a very tall, very thin young man, -who smiled down at her in a quizzical, friendly manner not unsuggestive -of the Cheshire Cat. That vague, deprecatory grin was as much a part of -Mr. Merguelis as his sandy hair, his retreating chin, and the whole -amiable vacancy of his expression. His youth had been passed before the -public as "assistant" to Professor Theophilus Blitz, the exhibiting -hypnotist, who was accustomed nightly to run pins into him; make him -drink kerosene under the impression it was beer; smack his lips over -furniture-polish; eat potato peelings for sausages; bark like a dog, -meow like a cat, make love to a bolster, and generally disport himself -to the astonishment and horror of clodhopper audiences. Six years of -this had left Tommy without a digestion, and that fixed and bewildered -grin, which to Phyllis, under the unusual circumstances of their -meeting, seemed to her not without a satiric quality. - -But as they drove through the deserted streets she realized her mistake, -and corrected so unjust a first impression. The artless, gawky creature -idolized Adair, and was proud beyond measure to be serving him so -romantically. It gave him an extraordinary fellow-feeling for Phyllis -to have her also on her knees at the shrine of the demigod; and he -overflowed with a hero-worship so naive and sincere that she could not -help liking him--grin and all. Indeed, it seemed a happy augury for her -own future that Adair could excite so profound an admiration in those -about him. Mr. Merguelis seemed as infatuated as she, and saw nothing -strange in these midnight proceedings. There was approval in that -everlasting grin. Would she please call him Tommy? Mr. Adair called -him Tommy. They shook hands on it in the semi-darkness, and she knew she -had found a friend. - -Phyllis expected that Cyril would be waiting for her at the station, and -was much cast down to learn that she was to remain alone with Tommy -until the train arrived. "Then we'll all bustle on board together, and -nobody will notice you," explained Tommy. The good sense of this was -apparent, yet at the same time she could not help feeling a little -forlorn and slighted. "Nobody will notice you," said Young Lochinvar's -Tommy.--Now that the die was cast, why should she not be noticed? She -was ready to avow herself Adair's before all the world, and why not on -that dark, ill-lighted platform, when her courage was nearly spent and -her slim young body drooping? - -They sat on a bench, and waited in a corner of the vast cavern, she with -her bag in her lap, Tommy with his unrelaxing grin fixed on space. -Waited and waited, while stragglers passed, immigrants with babies and -bundles, hurrying couples returning to the suburbs from a night in town. -Above the noise there suddenly rose a louder thunder. It was the train -bursting in with a roar, hissing steam and grinding its brakes as it -slowed down, throbbing majestically. Tommy seized her by the arm and -ran along the platform. - -"Day car reserved for Steinberger's theatrical company?" - -"Third car back." - -"Day car reserved for Steinberger's theatrical company?" - -"Jump in!" - -Others were scrambling in, too. Phyllis had a fleeting glimpse of Miss -de Vere, still with dabs of make-up on her sulky, handsome face; of the -wicked Prince, loaded down with baggage, and excitedly taking the -direction of everything on his shoulders; of a stout, authoritative Jew -with a diamond pin, who was staring at her with a greedy curiosity, and -that cattleman's look, as of one who could tell the shape, age, -attractiveness, and market value of a human heifer at a single glance. -They jostled into the empty car, a dozen or more, settling themselves -anywhere, anyhow, like a big boisterous family. Tommy and Phyllis -slipped into a seat at the farther end, and they had hardly done so -before the latter felt a hand reach over and touch her cheek; and -turning, saw Adair! Tommy sprang up, and made way for him, Adair taking -the vacated place as though by right. - -Whatever pique she might have held against him vanished in the magic of -his presence. His hand, closing on hers, communicated peace and -resolution. No longer was she afraid, or lonely, or sad, or uneasily -conscious of those other prying and speculating occupants of the car. -The goal was attained; stronger shoulders than her own now lifted her -burden; she had run her race, and could now lie, all spent and weary, in -that haven of heart's content. His musical voice flowed on in caressing -cadences. Had Tommy carried out his instructions? Had Tommy explained -the need of an unobtrusive departure, so that any chance reporter or -busybody might be put off the scent?--Oh, the poor baby, how neglected -she must have felt, on this the night of nights; how utterly ignored and -forgotten! - -He drew her head against his cheap fur coat, and stroked her cheek and -tresses--his sweetheart, his darling, his little bride! It was sweet to -be petted; sweeter still to enjoy the luxury of self-pity as he -expatiated with smiling exaggeration on her sad, miserable, wretched -waiting with Tommy, in the sad, miserable, wretched station! She closed -her sleepy eyes, and nestled closer, awake only to catch every soft word -of endearment. Of these she could not have enough. It was heavenly to -doze away with: "I love you, I love you, I love you," falling in that -insatiable little ear; heavenly to feel that big hand playing with her -hair, and tempting kisses as it lingered against her mouth; heavenly to -feel so weak, and small, and helpless, and tired against that muscular -arm. Divine mystery of love! Divine the dependence of woman on man, of -man on woman, neither complete without the other, and each so -different... "My little bride" ... "I love you, ... I love you, ... I -love you..." - -The train rumbled through the darkness. The seats held the huddled -figures of the company, all as limp as sacks, as oblivion stole upon -them. Feet were cocked up; hats were pulled over brows; haggard women, -pale men, sprawling in disorder, and through long familiarity as -unrestrained as some low, coarse family--sloppy slippers and frank -stockings to the garter; unbuttoned collars, unbuttoned vests; dirty -cuffs on racks--the squalid evidences of a squalid intimacy. - -Looking down at that pure profile, and inhaling with every breath the -fragrance of an exquisite young womanhood which would be his so soon to -take, and, if he wished, to fling away, shattered and destroyed beyond -all mending, Adair felt, with dawning comprehension, and mingled elation -and pain, all that had gone to put this creature so infinitely above -him. - -What care, what money, what anxious thought had been lavished to make -her what she was. How incessant the effort; how jealous the guarding -through all these years; how elaborate and costly the training to fit -her for the proud, high position to which she had been born. It came -over him with a strange new perception that the very innocence of her -surrender was but another proof of that queenly rearing. She was not of -a world where women suspected or bargained. They lived their gracious -lives within triple walls, unaware of the sentinels and outposts for -ever watching over them. And what were the sensations of the lucky -thief, who had closed his fingers on the prize, and run? They were not -altogether as joyful as one might have thought. The thief was very much -bemused. That trusting head, snuggled against his breast, was causing a -curious commotion in the heart beneath. - -But he overcame the unmanly weakness. Hell, he would take what the gods -had sent him. He hadn't raised a hand to get her; she had thrown -herself at him; oh, she knew what she was doing, well enough, though she -probably expected him to marry her. Perhaps he would, later on. He -wasn't prepared right there to say he wouldn't. But there was plenty of -time for that. He hoped she wouldn't turn out to be one of the crying, -troublesome kind. Add a Laidlaw Wright father-in-law to that, and one -might as well shoot oneself--what with writs, attachments, box-office -seizures, injunctions, citations "to show cause," detectives going -through your pockets, black eyes, fines, contempt-proceedings--all -raining on a fellow in buckets! He smiled grimly at the recollection. -No more of that for him.--Well, if she didn't like the other way, she -would just have to make the best of it. Her innocence here again would -be a great help. The poor little lamb believed every word he said. -Besides, with women, kisses could always atone for everything. - -The train rumbled on and on. Adair succumbed to a fitful and uneasy -slumber, through which there ran a thread of tormenting dreams. He had -lost her; they had become separated, and over the heads of a crowd he -saw her disappearing in a vortex of hurrying people; he struggled -unavailingly to follow, swearing, hitting out, shouldering and elbowing -like a madman; the cruel reality of it awakened him to find her sleeping -in his arms. He awakened her, too,--roughly,--to share his relief, his -joy. He made her hold him round the neck; made her kiss him, all sleepy -as she was; crushed and cuddled her in a transport of sudden passion. -Then he nodded off again, his lips resting on her silken hair, -blissfully content, and no longer afraid to close his heavy lids. - -They were bundled off at Ferrisburg at three in the morning, all of them -so sodden with sleep that they could scarcely keep their eyes open. A -dilapidated bus, and a freckled boy received them, the former -representing the Clarendon Hotel, the latter, Miss MacGlidden's -theatrical boarding-house. The company divided accordingly, with some -grumpy facetiousness, the lesser members trailing away on foot after the -boy, the principals climbing into the bus,--the trunks of both stacked -high on the platform to await the morning. - -The hotel, in spite of its fine name, was a bare, dismal, ramshackle -place; and the lowered lights, and uncarpeted floors gave it a -peculiarly forbidding air as the doors were unlocked to admit them. -Phyllis, clinging to her lover's arm, and overcome with weariness, took -little heed of the arrangements being made for their accommodation. She -had no idea of the _Cyril Adair and wife_ that was being written almost -under her nose. Even when she accompanied Cyril up-stairs at the heels -of a yawning darky, she was equally unaware that her room was also to be -his. No sleepy child at her father's side could have been more -trusting. - -The darky shuffled off, leaving them alone together in the big, cold -bedroom. Adair took her in his arms, and kissed her, murmuring -something that she only half heard and altogether failed to understand. -All that she grasped was that he would return in a little while--that -she was to undress, and go to bed, while he went down to get his -dress-suit case. He opened her own little bag, and laughed as he -arranged the contents on the chiffonier, she with blushes, struggling to -restrain him. Then he was gone, and when she went to lock the door, she -found that the key was gone, also. - -She took off her hat, her cloak, her bodice, and with no light save a -pair of wretched candles began to brush her unloosened hair. A terrible -misgiving was stealing over her which she tried to allay by prolonging -this familiar task. The missing key, the talk of coming back--what was -she to think? A deadly fear struck at her heart. It was not all for -her honor. There was more at stake than even that--the greater disaster -of Adair's unworthiness. Could this be the love for which she had -abandoned everything? Was it all a lie, a fraud, a trick? She suddenly -seemed to lose the strength to stand, sinking into the nearest, chair, -huddled and trembling. - -No, no, he could not be so inconceivably base. She was wrong. His love -was as real as hers. He was incapable of such coldblooded -premeditation. Everything she had was his. It was not that. The -thought of giving herself to him had filled her with an unreasoning joy. -But to be cheated, to barter her life, her soul in exchange for his -pretense--oh, she would have rather died! She would have starved for -him, would have sold the clothes off her back for him, would have borne -unflinchingly odium, contempt, disgrace, asking only that he love her -well. But without that--! It was for him to choose; she had no -resistance left; but if it were, indeed, all a lie she would kill -herself the next day. One could outlive many things, but not _that_. -There are some cheats that leave one with no redress save death. - -She heard his step in the corridor; heard the door softly open; looked -up with dilating eyes to learn her fate. The words Adair meant to say -never were said. He stopped, staring down at her with a gaze as -questioning as her own. It was one of those instants that decide -eternities. All that she had thought, all that she had dreaded were -articulate in the piteous face she raised to his. It was a look, which, -mysteriously, for that perceptive instant was open for him to read. - -"They have got me a room on the other side of the house," he said, "but -I had to come back first to say good night." He ran over to her, kissed -her lightly on her bared shoulder, pressed a great handful of her hair -across his lips, and hurried away before temptation could overmaster -him. - -There was no one to be found anywhere, but he remembered the stove still -burning in the bar-room, and the empty chairs gathered socially about -it. Thither he made his way through the silent office and corridors, and -drawing his cheap fur coat close about him, settled himself to pass what -little remained of the night. There was sawdust on the floor, -spittoons, scraps of sausage-rind; the air stank stalely of beer and -spirits; the single gas-jet, turned very low, flickered over the nude -women that decorated the mean, fly-blown walls, and flickered, too, over -a man, half-slumbering in a chair, who, but glimmeringly to himself, had -taken the turning road of his life. - - - - - *CHAPTER XVII* - - -The sensation of most runaway couples, after filling up a blank form, -and having a marriage service gabbled over them by a shabby stranger in -a frock-coat, is one of unmixed astonishment at the facility of the -whole proceeding. A dog-license is no harder to obtain, and the -formalities attending vaccination are even greater. - -Phyllis emerged from the Reverend Josiah Lyell's with a ring on her -finger, and a cardboard certificate on which the Almighty, angels, and -forked lightning were depicted above her name and Adair's. The first -discussion of their married life was what to do with this monstrosity. -Phyllis was for tearing it up, but Adair, superstitiously afraid of bad -luck, insisted stoutly on its being retained. - -"I'll hide it at the bottom of my trunk," he said. - -They returned to the carriage, which was awaiting them as composedly as -though nothing in particular had happened in the ten-minute interval. -Adair wished to take a drive before going back to the hotel, thinking -that the air and repose would be soothing for their nerves,--but to his -surprise Phyllis demurred. - -"I've been married your way," she said, "now you must come and be -married mine." - -"Yours, Phyllis?" - -"Yes, tell him to drive to a Catholic church." - -He gave the order good-humoredly. "Aren't you satisfied?" he asked. -"Do you want more angels and forked lightning?" - -"You see, I've always been a sort of Catholic," she explained. "Not a -good Catholic, but a poor little straggler, galloping on half a mile -behind, like a baby sheep that's got left. I've never liked the -confession part of it, but really, Cyril, there's a sort of whiff of -Heaven about a Catholic church that I need occasionally. It's just as -though you were awfully hungry, and went in to smell a beautiful dinner -a long way off!" - -"All right, Phyllis, if we are going to get married we might as well do -it thoroughly," assented Adair. "If you think that beautiful dinner -will help us any, let's go and smell it by all means." - -As kind fate would have it, it was rather an attractive church, and -better still it was altogether deserted. The autumn sunshine was -streaming through stained-glass windows; a faint perfume of incense -lingered in the air; the peace and solitude gave an added dignity to the -altar, with its suffering pale Christ, its tall candles, its effulgent -brasses gleaming in the rosy light. Phyllis made Adair kneel at her -side, and holding his hand tightly in hers, prayed silently with -downcast eyes, and the least quiver of a smile at the corner of her -lips. - -On their way out they stopped at the font. She crossed herself, touched -her fingers to the water, and scattered some drops on Adair's face. -"That's that you will always love me," she said, with captivating -solemnity, "that's that you will always be true to me; and that's -that--I may die first!" - -Adair dabbled his own hand in the holy water, as though the act had a -religious significance, "Oh, God," he said, looking up in all -seriousness, "if there is a God--take care of this sweet wife of mine, -and guard her from every harm; and if there isn't, I swear by this I am -going to do it myself just as well as I know how!" - -They kissed each other, and were about to go, when Phyllis noticed the -poor-box. She slipped off her best ring, a little diamond such as girls -are permitted to wear, and unhesitatingly dropped it in. Adair, caught -by the picturesqueness of the offering, would have sacrificed his -horseshoe pin had he not been prevented. - -"No, that's too pretty," she cried jealously. "Haven't you something you -don't like that God _would_?" - -A little rummaging discovered a gold pencil-case which seemed to fulfill -this demand--at least on Adair's side--and it forthwith followed the -ring. Then they sought the open air. - -"Now, at last I feel really married," said Phyllis gaily, as they -climbed back into the carriage. "What a strange, dizzy, _safe_ sort of -feeling it gives one. And just think I could hug you right now before -the driver, and that old lady with the basket, and that little boy -blowing his baby brother's nose--and nobody could say Boo!" - -[Illustration: She waited for him at the stage-door.--_Page_ 284] - -She alarmed Adair by pretending to carry the hugging into effect until -he tried to push her away, and told her to behave. She replied with a -delighted, bubbling outcry over her new freedom: "Oh, but I'm married -now, and can do just what I like, and can have breakfast in bed with you -every morning, and put my shoes out with yours to be blacked, and I'm -Mrs. Adair, and have a wedding-ring, and a certificate with forked -lightning on it!" She exultantly popped up her feet on the seat in -front, showing a shocking amount of black silk stocking with a bravado -that made him grab at her skirt to pull it down; and in the ensuing romp -there was more silk stocking still, and so much happy laughter on her -part, and scandalized protestation on his that the driver turned round, -and they were all but disgraced. - -The narrowness of the escape sobered her, and for the rest of the drive -she was demureness itself. What a joy it was to recline with half-shut -eyes, and let the air fan away all the troubled memories of the night -before! Mind and body craved repose, and mind and body found it in the -cradle-like movement of the carriage. Adair was very tired, too, and -willing enough to share his pretty companion's mood. Deliciously -conscious of each other, though more asleep than awake, they abandoned -themselves to the fresh bright morning, and breathed in deep drafts of -contentment. - -On their return to the hotel, the carriage stopped and Tommy Merguelis -jumped up on the step. His perennial grin, and withered, foolish face -was not unclouded by a certain anxiety. He dropped a bunch of roses -into Phyllis' lap, with an awkward compliment which got as far as she -was a rose herself, and then ended midway with a terrified giggle. - -"I'm awful sorry," he said, addressing Adair, "but you're wanted at the -theater, Mr. Adair, and I've been chasing around after you for the last -half-hour. They want you to rehearse right off with Miss Clarke, and -coach her a bit in the business." - -"Why, what's the matter with De Vere?" asked Adair, surprised. - -A slight glaze seemed to spread itself over the grin. - -"She won't be in the bill for a day or two," said Tommy. "She's been -suddenly taken awful bad." He paused, seeking a decorous name for the -attack in question, and finally veiled it in the obscurity of a foreign -language: "A crisis de nerves," he added. - -"Oh, tantrums?" said Adair in a plainer tongue. "What a confounded -nuisance!" - -"She kept yelling and yelling until we got the doctor," went on Tommy; -"and then on top of that Miss Clarke had to get into a hair-pulling -match with Miss Larkins--and so I think you had better hurry, Mr. Adair, -if there's to be anything doing to-night." - -"Great Lord, I think so, too!" cried the latter, to whom, like all -stars, the evening performance was next to a religion. "You go on to -the hotel," he went on, turning to Phyllis, "and make yourself as -comfortable as you can." The vexation in his voice was even a better -apology than the one in words. "I'm damned sorry," he said. "It's the -most infernal shame. Forgive me, Phyllis, please do, and try not to -mind." - -Thus it was that she drove to the hotel alone, while Adair and Tommy -strode off to quiet the tempest in the theater, and start a tedious and -prolonged rehearsal with Miss de Vere's understudy. - -Phyllis went to her room, and found one alleviation of its loneliness in -examining that mysterious object, her wedding-ring. It was so strange, -so unfamiliar, so charged with significance and finality. Just a -trifling hoop of gold, and yet with what myriad meanings. Probably in -days gone by, when of brass or iron it was riveted on the neck, little -brides mirrored themselves in pools with a similar awe at their altered -state, and a similar questioning of the unknown future. - -For better or worse, for good or evil, her life was linked to Adair's -beyond all recalling, and the emblem of their compact glittered on the -hand she gazed at so long and earnestly. - -But you can not hypnotize yourself for ever with a wedding-ring--even -one not two hours old. There was another matter that called more -insistently for her attention. Cyril had promised her two hundred and -fifty dollars for her clothes, and it behooved her to get pen and ink, -and begin making her calculations. This she did with much erasing, much -crinkling of girlish brows--with a profound, wise-baby expression as -though all the world were at stake. There was a delicious immodesty in -spending Adair's money for such laced and ribboned -femininities--nightgowns, stockings, chemises, and what she wrote down -ambiguously as "those things," and colored as she wrote it. How -thrilling it was, and how exquisitely shocking! Oh, dear, what nice -ones they would have to be,--twenty-five dollars gone for six in the -twinkling of an eye, for surely economy here would be a crime, men being -notoriously fond of-- - -"Mrs. Adair?" - -Her new name was so unfamiliar that she hesitated before answering: -"Come in." - -"A gentleman to see you, Mrs. Adair." - -The door opened, and there on the threshold stood her father! His face -was white, his eyes morose and sunken, his whole air so formidable that -in the first shock of recognition Phyllis could do no more than stare at -him in terror. - -"May I enter?" he asked, in that deeper intonation of his which he never -used except under some special stress. As he spoke he looked about -sharply, and with a bristling hostility as though expecting to discover -a second occupant of the room. - -"Mr. Adair isn't here," she said, answering the silent question. "I am -all alone, Papa." - -She would have kissed him, but he brushed past her to a chair, and -seated himself heavily, laying his silk hat and his gloves on the floor -beside him. Thus stalwartly in possession of the chamber, he appeared -more formidable than ever, and the deliberate gaze he bent on Phyllis -was masterful and menacing. - -"So you've gone and thrown away your life," he said at last. "Forgive -me, my dear, if I am not able to congratulate you upon it." - -"I married Mr. Adair this morning, if that's what you mean." She hardly -knew how to say more without adding to her offense. Her father was -bound to put her in the wrong whatever reply she made. A terrible -hopelessness weighed her down, and crushed the unspoken appeal on her -lips. - -"Thrown away like that," he repeated, with a gesture. "You, who had -everything; you, with beauty, position, money, brains--my God, the folly -of it--the cruel, wicked, heartless folly of it!" - -"Don't, Papa!" she pleaded. "It's done, and so what's the good of -wounding me now?" - -"Done!" he cried out bitterly. "That depends on what you mean by the -word. I will call it done in six months when you will leave him for -good, and he will name his price for a divorce. That's the way -adventurers marry money nowadays. They enjoy the girl till they are -tired of her, and then sell!" - -Phyllis struggled to keep her composure under the affront. "You are -very unjust," she returned in a low voice that trembled in spite of -herself. "You are determined to think the worst of him, and make it -impossible for us ever to be friends. But you are wrong, Papa. He's not -an adventurer, nor anything like it. Surely I ought to know better than -you, and if I have been willing to love him, and marry him--" - -"Oh, I'm not going to argue with you about him," interrupted Mr. Ladd -harshly. "You believe in him now, of course. One can't reason with -lunatics, and I shan't try. I'll give you six months--perhaps even -less--and then I want you to remember what I am saying to you now." - -"That you were right?"--Her voice was scornful.--"Oh, Papa, this is -unworthy of you." - -"Phyllis," he retorted, "that's the last thing on earth I would ever say -to you. If you should come back to me disillusioned, broken, utterly -weary of the muddle you have made of it all, you will find everything -unchanged between us and the whole matter as ignored as though it had -never been. That's what you are to remember--that my heart and my purse -will never be closed against you." - -"Though both are dependent on my giving up my husband?" - -"He will give you up, my dear, fast enough." - -"How dare you say that, Papa--how dare you!" A mist of anger was in her -eyes, and two spots of crimson glowed dangerously on her cheeks. Never -in her life had she been more roused; up to that moment she had still -hoped to save the day and win her father over, but now she perceived the -irrevocable nature of what was being said. Yet outwardly, at least, she -restrained herself, and hid within her quivering breast a tumult that -seemed to rend her to pieces. - -"If I seem to be misjudging Mr. Adair it is only because I know more -about him that you do," continued Mr. Ladd in a tone not untinged with a -grim satisfaction. Even as he spoke he drew out a thick packet, and -unfolded it on his knee. It was a mass of typewriting, with here and -there a notorial seal on paper of a different color, and an occasional -newspaper cutting neatly pasted in the center of a little sea of -comment. "Here we have him in black and white," he went on, "and -frankly, Phyllis, he offers you a very poor promise of a happy married -life." - -"And you expect me on my wedding morning to sit down and read these -things--these abominable slanders your detectives have scraped -together?" - -"Oh, no. But I demand to have Mr. Adair sit down and answer them." - -"Would you believe him if he did?" - -"Facts are facts. He can't deny them." - -"And you called _me_ unreasonable? Oh, Papa!" - -Mr. Ladd ignored the taunt. - -"When he appreciates that his whole disreputable past is known to me," -he went on, with the same inflexible composure, "he may condescend to -consider--an arrangement." - -"An arrangement?--What do you mean?" - -"I have brought a blank check with me," he explained. "He can name -anything--and get it. I'd rather pay more now than less later." - -His brutality overwhelmed her. It took her a few seconds to understand -the incredible baseness he imputed to Adair. In the light of this her -father's previous insults paled to insignificance. She was too stunned -to make any reply, and for a while could do nothing but look at him in -speechless wonder. Then she rose, and rang the bell. - -"The marriage could be annulled," said Mr. Ladd, oblivious of everything -except his one preoccupation. "The next thing is to keep the newspapers -quiet, and that I can do. We'll go abroad--" - -The darky came running up with a pitcher of ice water. No one ever rang -for anything else in the Clarendon Hotel. He entered, jingling the ice. - -"Show this gentleman out," said Phyllis, "and I want you to remember I -shall not be home to him again." - -"Phyllis!" - -The entreaty in his voice moved her not a bit, nor the outstretched -hand, veined, wrinkled and shaking. - -"It's conceivable I may forgive you for this, Papa," she exclaimed, -"though God knows it will be hard. But if you offer that check to Cyril -I shall hate you till the day I die!" - -"Have it your own way then," he returned dully, and with a curious break -in his voice. "Take your own wilful road, and come back to me when your -heart's broken. I'll be waiting for you, Phyllis, and ready to forget -and forgive." - -She disdained to make any reply. The darky officiously gathered up the -silk hat and gloves from the floor, and presented them to Mr. Ladd. The -latter, with a last look at his daughter's unrelenting face, turned in -silence, and passed out. - -"The stairs are to the left, sah," said the darky. - - - - - *CHAPTER XVIII* - - -Whether disillusion was finally destined to arrive or not, there was -certainly not a hint of it during those succeeding weeks. There was no -happier little bride in America, than Phyllis Adair, and intimate -acquaintance with that extraordinary creature, man, only redoubled her -delight in him. The bigness, directness, simplicity, intolerance, and -dog-like devotion of her husband were an unfailing joy to her. No -little girl who had been given a coveted St. Bernard could have taken -more anxious, eager, excited care of him. She would feed Adair with the -daintiest morsels from her own plate; she would exert every faculty she -possessed to amuse and distract him when he fell into one of his -despondent moods; she would mock him with such pretty archness when he -grew irritable over trifles. "Damn it all, where did that fool Williams -put my patent leather shoes?"--"Damn it all, you will find them in the -bottom of the wardrobe neatly ranged with the others," she would answer. -No matter how ill his humor she always found the means to make him -smile; her quick wit, or her slim, audacious body each exultantly -willing to tease and bewitch him. - -Of all human gifts surely that of loving has received the least general -recognition. A genius for music, a genius for mathematics or natural -history, or sculpture, or mechanics, is at once admitted and acclaimed. -But what of a genius for loving, which of all is infinitely the rarest? -The trouble is that every one is conceited enough to think that he (or -she) is a wonder at it. But frankly, do we really indeed see so many -love-geniuses about us? Are we not rather struck instead by an almost -universal love-poverty? If the husband stays drearily at home every -night of his life, and if the wife is entirely absorbed in the baby, are -we not asked enthusiastically to applaud a happy home? This is the -national ideal, and tens of thousands are yawning heroically through it. -But where's love in any but half-pint sizes? Everybody insists it is -there in barrelfuls, much as they insisted in the fairy tale in the case -of the man with the invisible clothes.--We are not defending hubby when -he gets tangled up with the blonde lady, but emotionally speaking (only -_emotionally_, be it understood), it may be an upward step. If you have -a ten per cent. capacity to love, it is hard to be fobbed off with a -four per cent. partner. - -Phyllis was one of the chosen few in whom the capacity to love was -inordinate. Her one thought was to make herself indispensable to the -man to whom she had given herself. Adair was the last thing in her head -at night, the first at dawn. Hardly was there an act of hers in which -his personality was not a contributing factor. Her insatiable ambition -was to please and delight him, and her brain was ever busy to find fresh -ways, and improve on the old. Her finesse, her humor, her ardent and -tender imagination--all were enlisted to a single end. Passion she had -in plenty, for she was of a voluptuous nature, and the blood coursed -hotly in her veins--but she had more than that to give him, and was -possessed of a thousand captivating arts to ensnare this love that was -said to be so elusive, and bind it tight with a myriad silken threads. - -It will be asked was Adair worthy of so supreme a devotion? Is it not -enough to answer that he was not altogether unworthy? There was a lot -of human clay in the creature, and while Phyllis was exerting all her -blithe young ardor to keep the altar-fires aflame, he was content to -look on lazily, and man-like, take many things for granted. Had she -been no better, their love would have run the ordinary course, and -perished fast enough on the rocks of habit and satiety. Adair's -spiritual side was all but dormant. He was encased in materialism as -stoutly as some of us in fat; whatever gropings he had toward higher -things were all in the direction of the stage. Feelings he could not -initiate himself he took here ready made, and showed almost a genius in -their comprehension. He presented a paradox of one who could admirably -"get into" any written character, and yet who was wholly unable to "get -into" his own. - -Phyllis knew much more what laid beneath than he. To her the yearning, -troubled, inarticulate soul of the man appealed as pathetically as the -sight of some great, ashamed, bearded fellow who had never been taught -to read. In the finer sense Adair had never been taught anything. His -instincts alone had saved him from being a clod. In his fight up from -the bottom he had arrived a good deal splashed with mud; and Phyllis, -figuratively speaking, rolled back her sleeves, and set herself to -tubbing him. - -He was extraordinarily submissive in this respect, extraordinarily -grateful and responsive. He made no pretense of hiding his ignorance, -but questioned her like a child, and often as artlessly. At thirty-four -he was having the universe reconstructed for him, and the process filled -him with astonishment. Phyllis read aloud to him from such unheard-of -authors as Thackeray, Carlyle, Hardy, Stevenson, and Meredith until -these strange names became quite familiar. She could read French, too, -translating as she went, while he sat back, profoundly respectful and -impressed, his humility tinged with the zest of ownership. Yes, her -youth, her beauty, her intelligence, her love, all were his; and as he -gazed at her through the haze of his cigar, the words often fell -heedlessly on his ear as he felt the mantling of a divine contentment. - -Yet he could be very masterful on some matters. Phyllis was not allowed -to receive the advances of the company, or to associate with any of its -members, a prohibition not a little difficult to obey in the course of -their constant traveling together. But if Phyllis shrank from being -rude, Adair suffered from no similar delicacy, and was brutally direct -in making his wishes plain to his stage companions. It was not only -that he feared Lydia de Vere, whose yellowish eyes were full of enmity, -and whose powers for mischief he well knew; but in contrast to his -dainty wife these theater-people somehow began to strike him as -tarnished and common, and he was jealously reluctant to expose her to -their familiarities. Intercourse with Phyllis was sharpening his -critical faculty; his view-point was insensibly changing; there were -even times when he realized his own deficiencies.--Tommy Merguelis was -the one exception he made. The lanky young man, when weighed in the new -scales, was found to be less wanting than the others. There was -something sensitive and refined about Tommy. Ill-health, pins, and years -of furniture-polish had been as cleansing fires. He was a humble person -who would accept his humble inch and grin gratefully, and not reach out -for an ell. Yes, Phyllis might be friends with Tommy. - -With them on their travels from town to town went a punching-bag, which -Adair inflated and set up as soon as their trunks were unpacked. Every -morning, stripped to the waist, Phyllis had to double up her little -fists, and start a-pummelling for ten furious minutes. There could be -no begging off from this daily rite; it was one of the iron rules of -married life; pleadings, caresses, protests all were in vain. An icy -bath had to follow, and if she hesitated too long on the brink, or -showed too mutinous a row of toes, Adair would jump up, and tumble her -in as mercilessly as a boy with a puppy. At night, too, he was no less -rigid in regard to her prayers. His own religion was very nebulous. He -never prayed himself nor went to church; but apparently that was no -reason why Phyllis should be similarly backward. It gave him a peculiar -pleasure to see her kneeling beside the bed, her night dress flowing -about her slender, girlish body, and her hair drawn back, and held by a -circlet of red ribbon. He knew no prettier picture, nor was it without -a tender and uplifting value. For it was his name that moved on her -lips, and who would not have been proud to send so enchanting a little -deputy to plead for one before the Throne of Grace? Then it was that he -seemed to love her best; and though all unaware of it, he, too, was -praying in the deeper, unspoken language of the heart. - -"You've forgotten your prayers!" - -"Oh, it was so cold--I thought I wouldn't to-night." - -"Jump up!" - -"It's so cosy here with you--and you ought to have said it sooner--and -anyhow, I won't." - -"Jump up!" - -"Oh, Cyril, that hurts!" - -"Of course, it hurts." - -"It's wicked to pinch as hard as that." - -"It's wickeder not to say your prayers." - -"Oh, Cyril, don't, _don't_!" - -"Jump up, then." - -"I'm not in the right frame of mind now--you have pinched it all -away.--All right, all right, don't--I'll do it! Though I don't think a -pinch-prayer would be as good as a real one. Do you?" - -"This is the prayer-rush time--God won't notice it." - -"Not even if I am black and blue? Why, the angels will be shocked." - -"They are that already with the fuss you have made. Roll out, you bad -little chap,--out with you!" - -Sometimes Adair was sharp with her--impatient and fretful. He made very -little effort to control his moods, which, as with most artists, were as -changeable and capricious as those of a child. Nine women out of ten -would have retorted in kind, and the honeymoon period would have -insensibly passed, and with it much of the charm and rapture of their -union. It was due to no help of Adair's that they did not descend to -the ordinary plane of married life, with its deliquescence of nearly -everything beautiful and romantic--occasional harshness on one side, -tears and pin-prickings on the other, and departing illusions on both. -People can still get along very tolerably in this manner, and remain -fairly fond and faithful, but no one can contend it is the poet's ideal. -It was certainly not Phyllis', and she was determined to avoid such a -catastrophe. - -In her ambitious little head the honeymoon was to be only the beginning -of a sweeter intimacy beyond. She saw, lying latent in Adair, a -capacity to love as great as her own (she was presumptuous enough to -think that no one could love any better), and her one consuming endeavor -was to draw it forth. Whether or not the prize was worth the winning -never occurred to her. This big, splendid, untamed man-animal was hers, -with all his weaknesses and defects, with all his fine qualities and -bad, and she had accepted the responsibility of him with naive -self-confidence. To love was her vocation, and she set herself to it -with delight. - -Her unfailing gaiety, her pretty artifices to amuse and cajole him, her -constant study of means to give him pleasure--all were as the drops that -wear away the stone. High-spirited, quick-tempered, and with a -sensitiveness that a glance could wound, she yet put such a rein upon -herself that no provocation could draw from her an unkind word. She -might grow suddenly silent, her mouth might quiver, her eyes glisten, -but no sharp retort ever passed her lips. There are many men with whom -this would not have answered. To some, indeed, an exquisite gentleness -and forbearance almost tempts their harshness. Feeling themselves in -the wrong their vanity is insulted, and with morbid perversity they go -from bad to worse. But Adair was not of this sort. With all his faults -he was a man of generous instincts, and capable of quick and headlong -repentances. He could come in like a thunder-cloud, on edge with -nerves, snappish, morose, ready to fly off the tangent at a trifle--and -five minutes later would be sitting at Phyllis' feet, his face in her -lap, conquered, contrite, declaiming hotly against himself, his -ill-temper all striking inward. - -These lapses of his helped his love much more than they hurt it, and -through them he began to acquire some self-control, some degree of -consideration--some shame. In him devotion brought out devotion. -Instead of resenting Phyllis' strategems to keep him good-humored and -happy, he was touched to the quick. It was a new idea, this of keeping -love alight; of consecrating thought and care to it and guarding the -precious flame from extinction. It dawned upon him as something -entirely novel and unheard-of. Yet it was beautiful; he approved of it -heartily. He innocently ascribed the invention to Phyllis, and as usual -was tremendously impressed. It made him wonder whether she ever thought -of anything else but love. As he grew to know her better he saw that it -inspired all she did--that every impulse and every action sprang from -it. - -Had he been a king, and she the transient, pretty butterfly of the -moment, she could not have striven harder to fascinate and hold him. -Her saucy tongue, her fancifulness, her audacity, her often-declared -determination to be as much sweetheart as wife--all were as spice to a -love that might otherwise have cloyed. To adore a man is not -enough--there is nothing the poor darling silly animal gets tired of so -soon as being adored.--One had to keep him interested, captivated, -filling in one's own little person all his complicated needs of passion, -comradeship, entertainment, variety, and mental recreation. But how -well one was repaid! If one gave a whole harem's worth of love, one -received a whole harem's worth back, and sweetest of all one could watch -the unfolding and ripening of a really fine nature. She was sure her -infatuation had guided her truly in that respect; that her choice had -fallen on a man with heart and soul big enough to repay her devotion. -He might be rough, but she had never a moment's doubt as to the diamond, -nor as to her ability to shape and polish it. - -It was a process, unfortunately, that could not be hurried. Against her -in the endeavor were the ingrained habits and wilfulness of twenty -years. From his boyhood up Adair had lived in an atmosphere of -unrestraint, a Bohemian of Bohemians, without ties, care-free, the whim -of the moment his only guide. Some backslidings on his part were -inevitable and Phyllis, with all her illusions, was sane and cool enough -to foresee them. It was hardly a surprise to her, therefore, though -frightening and dismaying, when late one night, after awaiting him in -vain, Tommy Merguelis appeared unexpectedly in his stead. Any stranger -to the young man would have judged him to be in high spirits; his -shrill, nervous laugh was louder than usual; and he stammered and -giggled as though bubbling over with an unextinguishable good nature. -To Phyllis' practised eyes, however, these were ominous signs, and her -breath came a little quickly, as she asked news of her husband. - -"Oh, he's all right," said Tommy, standing with one hand on the -door-knob, and showing no inclination to enter the room. "Oh, Mr. Adair -is all right--and hee, hee, don't you worry about him. He's detained, -that's all, and he sent me to say he might be late, and, and--" - -"And what?" - -"They've got him into a game down at Mr. Feld's--the owner of the -theater, hee, hee--and he couldn't well refuse, or at least--" - -"Oh, Tommy, please--I don't understand." - -"Just a little game of draw." - -"Cards?" - -"Yes--poker." - -This did not strike Phyllis as anything very terrible. - -"And he sent you to tell me he would be late?" she inquired, much -reassured. - -Tommy lied manfully. As a matter of fact he had invented the -message--and the errand--to shield Adair, who had forgotten everything -in the absorption of the game. "Yes," he said, "he can't manage to be -back to supper with you, and is awful sorry about it, and hopes you -won't mind." Though Tommy could lie, he could not act. His anxiety was -obvious; he wriggled uncomfortably; and his silly, convulsive smile -presaged some disagreeable revelation. Phyllis, now thoroughly alarmed, -and with characteristic directness went straight for the truth. - -"Tommy, has he been drinking?" - -"Oh, ah, well, hee, hee--yes, he has." - -"And they are playing high?" - -"A dollar limit." - -"And you came here to warn me? Don't deny it," - -"Oh, ah, well, hee, hee--yes, I did, Mrs. Adair."--As Phyllis paused, -troubled, uncertain, full of distress, Tommy added: "I don't know as it -wouldn't be a good plan for you to come along with me and get him." - -"Would he come?" - -"Anybody would come for you, Mrs. Adair." - -"Surely he doesn't often gamble, Tommy. He has never spoken to me of -it?" - -"Oh, there's nothing he don't do when the fit takes him. Hee, hee, he's -that kind, you know--temperamental." - -The word, and the woebegone indulgence with which it was uttered made -Phyllis smile. Her humor was always close to the surface, even when -there were tears between. - -"You are a dear, good fellow," she said, "and I'll never forget your -kindness to-night, though as for doing anything, I am going to stay -here." - -He was amazed at the gentleness of her tone. - -"I am never going to be his taskmaster," she went on, as much to herself -as to Tommy. "As far as I am concerned he shall always be as free as -air. If I went after him at all, it would be to sit on his knee, and -drink with him." - -Tommy's scandalized face again made her laugh. - -"Don't be afraid," she said with tremulous gaiety, "I won't do it this -evening, anyhow. Now run away, Tommy, and tell them down-stairs we -shan't need any supper after all." - -She shut the door after him, and stood with her back to it, forlornly -regarding the empty room. She was more than hurt, more than mortified. -She had to ask herself if she had failed. - - - - - *CHAPTER XIX* - - -It was dawn when Adair staggered in, undressed and rolled in beside her. -Her long vigil had been succeeded by an overpowering slumber, and she -was not aware of his return until the streaming sunshine awakened her -toward nine o'clock. She wondered at first why her heart was so heavy, -and then, with reviving recollection, sat up, and gazed at her sleeping -husband. Even a debauch could not impair his fine complexion, and the -thick, black hair clustered against the ruddy skin softened Phyllis' -expression as she studied his face long and earnestly. The charm of -that vigorous manhood was irresistible, and whatever lurking grudge she -still had against Adair was lost in a fresh access of tenderness. His -uneasy breathing, his hot dry forehead, his parched and parted lips, all -appealed as well to the woman in her--the mother, the nurse. - -For once the routine of punching-bag and bath was forgone, and her first -task on rising was to set about preparing breakfast. This, with the -pair, was a trifling matter, consisting of rolls, cream and butter -ordered over night and set outside their door on a tray every morning, -and the coffee Phyllis made herself over a spirit lamp. She was thus -busily engaged when she was conscious of a movement on the bed, and -turned to see her husband lowering at her with bloodshot eyes. Awake, -he looked disheveled, surly, ill and exasperated. His head was -splitting, and he was in one of those vile humors when a man avenges his -physical distress on those about him. He pushed Phyllis away as she ran -over to him, and told her roughly to leave him alone. The offer of a -cup of coffee outraged him. Groaning and swearing, he pulled himself -into a sitting posture, and in a voice as intentionally disagreeable as -he could make it demanded some hot water. - -Holding the cup in both hands, he began to drink it in angry little -sips, finding a malign satisfaction in the change that had come over -Phyllis. Pale, silent, wounded and frightened, she was utterly at loss -to know what to do. Every word was a stab, and she had a stupefying -feeling that the end had come. Her only coherent thought, the only -manifestation of resentment within her, was to contribute nothing to -bring about the catastrophe. If Adair were determined to pull down -their little paradise about their ears, and destroy for ever the filmy -and poetic fabric of a perfect love, she, at least, would hold herself -innocent of the sacrilege. But, oh, the pang of it, the heartrending -misery, the disillusion! - -"Now, go ahead," he said sullenly. "I'm ready--go ahead!" - -She faltered and trembled in asking him what he meant. - -He burst out with a scornful laugh. - -"I was drunk last night," he said, "you know that as well as I do, and -here I am ready to take my medicine--can't avoid it, I know that--and -want to get it over with. You wouldn't be a woman if you didn't pay me -out." - -The vulgarity of the conception stung her. - -"I--I don't pay people out," she said simply. - -"Oh, no, you're the quiet kind," he went on with an ugly jeer, intent -somehow on putting her in the wrong. "You don't say anything, but you -sit there and freeze a fellow--and oh, my God, yes, cry! There you go, -cry, cry, cry!" - -She did break down for a moment under his deliberate cruelty, but -quickly rallying, came over, and sat beside him on the bed. - -"Don't, don't quarrel with me," she said pitifully, and then added with -a gleam of humor, "after all, it wasn't I that was drunk, you know." - -She put out her hand, and for a while he permitted it to lie against his -aching forehead. All would have been well had he not unfortunately -spilled his cup. At this his latent fury broke out anew. - -"For God's sake, don't crowd all over me!" he cried. "Sit over there, -where we can talk like sensible people. You have made me all wet with -the damned stuff." - -The fault was his own, and due to his unsteady hands, but he was -wilfully pleased to put her in the wrong. He glowered at her with -savage reproach as she moved a little farther away in obedience to his -command. She was disconcertingly quiet, and it seemed to him an added -injustice to be cheated of a scene. There was nothing but her anguished -eyes, and her drooping and utterly dispiriting attitude to tell him how -well he was succeeding. - -"You're a little fool," he announced inconsequently. - -He waited for her to answer, but she made no sign of having heard him, -sitting there stricken, numb. - -"To have tied up with such a damned goat," he added, with immense -conviction. - -Still no answer. - -"The best thing you can do is to pack up and go," he went on. - -At this she did find her voice, ghost of a one that it was. - -"Is that what you really want me to do, Cyril?" - -"It's what you ought to do," he returned, with a sternly paternal air. - -"It's for you to decide." - -His mumbling reply turned into a groan. - -"I lost nearly four hundred dollars last night," he said, after a deadly -pause. "Then I had to get into a scrap with Jake Steinberger, and -Willie Latimer, and George Wright, and there was a hell of a shindy till -somebody turned in a police-alarm, and I only dodged arrest by the skin -of my teeth--not but what I'll be summonsed to-day, sure as sure. On -top of that my engagement is gone, for I lammed Jake half to death, and -I guess he had rather break up the tour all-standing than keep me in the -bill another night. And--and--" - -"You thought you'd make a clean sweep of everything, once you were at -it, and alienate me, too?" - -"Yes, like a damned goat," he repeated dully. - -"Well, you have succeeded," she said in the same low, even tone, "I dare -say you'll be sorry some day at having broken your toys. There isn't -anything more to be said, is there, except good-by?" - -She was about to rise when Adair flung himself out of the bed, and -kneeling before her, pulled off her little slippers and began kissing -her naked feet. His repentance was so sudden, so abject that it was -almost as though he had gone crazy. It was indeed an hysterical -revulsion, and his frame shook, and his hands clenched themselves on her -flesh as he abased himself before her. He begged incoherently for -forgiveness, for mercy; he would kill himself if she were to leave him; -he loved her; he could die for her; the disgrace and despair of it all -had driven him mad. At first she resisted, struggling to free herself, -and too deeply affronted for any atoning words to touch her; but her -powerlessness in his grasp, the warmth of his quick, tumultuous breath -against her, even the physical pain he was unconsciously inflicting--all -at last took her womanhood by storm, and she drew up his head, and -allowed him to sob his heart out in her lap. - -How little did either of them know, she sitting on the bed in her -night-dress, he nestling close against her in an agony of shame and -contrition, that a battle of the soul had been fought and won; that the -finer nature had triumphed over the coarser; that an insensible but a -most real step had been taken upward. Phyllis extorted no promises; -Adair made no vows; rather they clung to each other like little children -who had safely passed the edge of a precipice, and in security beyond -were trembling at what they had risked. - -The woman, always the more practical partner, was the first to descend -from the clouds to mundane considerations. - -"And what's the poor little damned goat going to do?" she asked, the -quoted profanity on her pretty lips as piquant and tender as a lullaby; -and accompanying it with a smile so arch that Adair's face, too, could -not but light with it. - -"Face the music and then get out," returned the D. G. - -"Out where, dearest?" - -Adair grew overcast. - -"Mortimer Clark's on the road somewhere," he said reflectively, "and I'm -sure he'd make room for me if he had to fire a whole company. Then -there's Nan O'Farrell in the _Diamond Diadem_ and Leo Foster in the -_Slaves of Circumstance_. They are all on the cheap, and would jump at -the chance of getting me at their prices. As soon as I get round to it, -I'll telegraph." - -Phyllis hesitated, but at last the words came. - -"On the cheap," she repeated. "Why don't you aim higher, Cyril? Why -don't you try the real people--those who are worth while, especially -now, when you're going to break away from Steinberger?" - -His only reply was a shake of the head. - -"You know you're too good for this sort of thing," she went on. "It -isn't flattery to tell you that--you see it yourself every night--I saw -it, and that's why I-- Oh, Cyril, let's try to get where you belong." - -"You don't understand," he said moodily. "You don't understand a bit. I -had all that once, and I kicked it over. The stage is an awfully small -place--for anybody that amounts to anything, you know--though as big as -an ocean for the others. There isn't anybody of importance--manager or -star--who doesn't _hate_ me." He perceived the doubt in her glance, and -continued swiftly: "Oh, it's no conspiracy, or jealousy, or anything of -that kind--a tip-top man can override all that if there's money in him -for the box-office--but I've set them all against me. There isn't one I -haven't punched or insulted somehow. I hold the record for being the -best-detested man on Broadway. Why, Alfred Fielman once--that was six -years ago, when I was by way of being a metropolitan favorite, and all -that, ha, ha--he had me on a forty weeks' contract, and at the end of -three he gave me a check for the rest and told me he had no more use for -my services. Thirty-seven weeks' full salary--think of it--and the -door!" - -"But isn't it different now?" asked Phyllis, enfolding him with a pair -of the whitest, softest, shapeliest arms in the world, and pressing her -cheek against his face. "You've got good since then, and are now mama's -little man!" - -"Look at last night," protested mama's little man dismally. "Drinking, -fighting, gambling, and my job out of the window! That's been me right -along--two weeks' notice, and for God's sake, never come back!" - -"Just a damned goat," rippled Phyllis, her teeth shining like pearls, -and her cheeks dimpling mischievously. - -"A silly ass," ejaculated Adair with much self-contempt. - -"Now, I want to tell you my idea," cried Phyllis. "We're going to pack -up, poor booful disgraced genius--and wife (as they add on hotel -registers); and we're going to count our poor little pennies, and take a -tourist sleeper to New York, and get a little flat of the sort they rent -to dormice in reduced circumstances, and live on air and kisses and -hope--while poor Booful will go round telling everybody he's a reformed -character, and looking for an engagement. And if the top all hates him, -and if the middle is all full, why Booful will begin at the bottom, -while Mrs. Booful will wash, and cook, and darn his socks--oh, no, -listen,--yes, and darn his socks, and pet him when he is discouraged and -cross, and keep everything scrupulously clean (in books if you're -awfully poor, you're always scrupulously clean, haven't you noticed it)? -Yes, scrupulously clean, and oh, so economical of every nickel till -everybody begins to see that Booful isn't a damned goat, but a man of -splendid talent, and up, up, up he'll go like a balloon, till there -won't be a garbage-can without his name on it, or a bill-board without -somebody "presenting" him in letters six feet high, and fame and money -will pour in like a Niagara, and, and--Cyril, why shouldn't we?" - -His look of indulgence and amusement had gradually changed to downright -eagerness. - -"If you can stand it, I can," he said. - -"Oh, Cyril, I'm not afraid--let's do it!" - -"We'll be starvation poor." - -"But in a home of our own--no more of these horrid hotels, no more -traveling, and something big to live and hope for." - -"Those dormice flats are awfully squeezy--and dark." - -"So's a robin's nest, for that matter." - -"And those pretty hands--it would be wicked to spoil them." - -"Oh, I won't spoil them--besides, what would be the good of them if they -couldn't work for the man I love." - -"Scrubbing floors, and cleaning kettles and polishing the stove?" - -"You can help a little." - -"And suppose, instead of being easy, it's very hard? It takes courage -to start again. You'll have to be brave enough for two, for I've none -of that kind of grit or perseverance. Do you think you can bolster up a -great big fellow like me, who'll come home like a baby and cry?" - -"We'll bolster up each other." - -"I--I wish I was more worthy of you, Phyllis." - -"Stop kissing my toes--it tickles--and oh, Cyril, don't bite them!" - -"I'm ashamed--you are so sweet and good and clever and brave--and the -whole of me isn't worth that little pink one, and I don't think I've -ever loved you so much as I do this minute, or _respected_ you more. If -you were married to a street-car conductor I believe you'd make him -president of the United States--and if your husband mayn't bite you, who -can?" - -"You darling!" - -"And I swear by that one that I love you better than anything in the -world; and by that one I'll be true to you all my life; and by that one -I'll cut my tongue out before I'll ever say an unkind word to you again; -and by that one I'm going to do everything you say, just as though you -were an angel from Heaven, which you are if ever there was one; and by -that fat little big toe that I'm going to try to copy the tenderest, -gentlest, most exquisite nature that God ever breathed into a human -being; and by the whole chubby little white satin foot--" - -"Do sit up--it's important." - -"I thought it was all settled. We'll start for New York as soon as I am -fired--officially." - -"Cyril?" - -"Yes, sweetheart?" - -"I'm so infatuated with you that perhaps I don't see things as they are. -It is not a dream, is it, that you really could get on in New York--I -mean if you lived down all the ill will against you there? I try to -detach myself, and criticize you dispassionately--but you always seem to -me so tremendously good." - -"I am good--in my own kind of work." - -"You've no dread of failure?" - -"In handing out the goods--? Not a particle, Phyllis. Why should I? -Haven't I done it?" - -"In your New York days?" - -"Why, Phyllis, this isn't brag. I've got notices to show for it, -corking notices. What you have seen me do is not my best. No one could -do that with the support I get, and I have to carry the whole outfit -single handed. A company ought to be a string orchestra--and they give -me a brass band!" - -"Have you got the notices?--I'd love to see them!" - -"They're at the bottom of the trunk somewhere--three books of them." - -"Do get them out, and let me read some." - -After long rummaging the books were produced. Phyllis, who in the -interval had put on a peignoir, and begun to comb her hair, seized on -one of them enthusiastically. It was an unwieldy, shabby old volume, -and so heavy it was hard to hold. The exertion, and perhaps the -excitement had caused Adair's head to throb again, and he was glad to -stretch his length on the bed while Phyllis, drawing up a rocking chair, -seated herself as close as she could beside him. - -The actor had not exaggerated his past successes. For three seasons he -had been a notable figure on Broadway, and if his reputation had been -more one of promise than achievement it was in dazzling contrast to what -he had since become. He had himself almost forgotten the stir he had -made--not the deafening curtain calls, the brimming box-offices, the -deferential managers,--none could forget that--but the soberer, yet more -valuable evidence of the critics. It was electrifying to listen to them -again; to see across the mean, intervening years that other self of his -lording it so high; to realize, with mingled bitterness, wonder and hope -that he was still the same man, with the same if not richer powers, and -a new-born resolution to regain what he had so lightly valued and so -unconcernedly thrown away. - -Phyllis, pink with excitement, and tripping occasionally over the longer -words, read notice after notice with indefatigable zest, constantly -substituting Booful and other endearing epithets for the more formal -name in print, while her husband lay back, listening delightedly, and -contributing exclamations, "By George, and it was William Winter who -said that!"--"Say, that's Huneker, isn't it?" "A column in _The World_ -isn't handed out to everybody, not by a long sight." - - - BOOFUL OPENS AT WALLACK'S - THE HONOR OF THE REGIMENT PLEASES, BUT - NEEDS CUTTING. - THE STAR SCORES AS MOODY HERO, AND EXCELS - HIMSELF IN MAGNIFICENT PORTRAYAL OF - EBHARDT. - - -"Those who went last night to see _Booful_ were not disappointed, -however they may have disagreed about the play itself. For that -brilliant young _darling_ it was hardly less than a personal triumph, -and from the rise of the curtain--" - -It was a very inconsiderate moment for a heavy rap at the door. - -"Come in," cried Adair. - -In the shadow stood a bulky figure--a blue figure--a figure with -something shining on its swelling chest. Phyllis looked and quailed as -the bravest of us do at the sight of the Law, intruding its hob-nailed -boot into what is metaphorically termed our castle. In this case the -castle was so small, and the Law so large and red and impressive that -the former seemed but a trifling refuge against oppression. In the -accents of a green and troubled island the new-comer asked: "Are you -Misther Adair--Misther Surul Adair?" - -"That's me, all right," said the actor. - -"You're summonsed for assault and battery, and here's the payper, and -it's before Judge Dunn ye're to come at two o'clock." - -"Where do I go, officer?" - -"The city hall, police court number one." - -"Two o'clock, you say? Very good. Tell Judge Dunn I have much pleasure -in accepting his kind invitation." - -The functionary unbent genially. - -"Tay will be served on the lawn," he said, "and the Marine Band will be -in attendance, and some of our younger set will be there--in blue." - -It seemed incredible to poor, trembling Phyllis that Adair could burst -out laughing. But he did, and that with every indication of -undiminished spirits. - -"All right, officer, I'll be there." - -"Good morning, sorr." - -"Good morning, officer." - -The tears were streaming down Phyllis' face as she ran to Adair, and -threw her arms around his neck; but he caressed and comforted her, and -gradually got her to smile again. - -"I feel better," he said. "Be a dear, and make me some fresh -coffee.--Oh, Phyllis, isn't it jolly!" - -"Jolly? Oh, how can you--" - -"Oh, I mean about going back to New York! A fellow who's hit them once -can hit them again, and by George, with you to help me, I just know I'm -bound to land!" - -"But this awful police court!" - -"Don't worry about that--they've never hanged a Free Mason yet.--Easy -with the cream, sweetheart.--Where was it we left off? Oh, yes, here it -is: 'Adair opens at Wallack's. Those who went last night to see Cyril -Adair--'" - -[Illustration: _From the Leamington Courier of November 28th, 190--_ -AMUSING SCENE IN JUDGE DUNN'S COURT] - - - _From the Leamington Courier of November 28th, 190--._ - - *AMUSING SCENE IN JUDGE DUNN'S COURT* - -Yesterday the proceedings in Judge Dunn's court were enlivened by the -presence of Cyril Adair the actor, who, on the complaint of Jacob -Steinberger, his manager, and Messrs. Willard Latimer and George -Augustus Wright, brother players, was haled before the bar of justice -for assault and battery. The three complainants showed unmistakable -traces of a fistic encounter, and there was a subdued ripple of -merriment at their bandaged appearance. The encounter was the outcome of -a midnight game of poker, and there was a direct conflict of evidence as -to who began the fray. - -Judge Dunn finally summed up against the defendant, and in default of a -fine, ordered him to find personal security to be of good behavior for -three months. Much amusement was then caused by Mrs. Adair unexpectedly -stepping forward, and pleading most charmingly with the judge to permit -her to assume the obligation. The court was unable to resist so -attractive a bit of femininity, and though remarking it was somewhat -irregular, consented, amid general laughter, to grant her request. - -The judge made up for it, however, by giving the defendant a stiff -little lecture before dismissing the case, expressing his surprise that -the husband of so young and pretty a wife should care to pass the early -morning hours at poker and fisticuffs. Adair accepted the rebuke with -great good nature and prompted by his wife thanked his honor for his -forbearance, adding to the general hilarity by repeating aloud some of -the advice that was being whispered in his ear. Apologies followed -outside, and the whole party returned to their hotel in the same hack. -All's well that ends well! - - - - - *CHAPTER XX* - - -Adair waited until Christmas before severing his connection with -Steinberger. The holidays were bad for theatrical business, and the -prospect of a temporarily reduced salary and several extra matinees -seemed to make this period an auspicious one for departure. With two -hundred and eighty dollars, their trunks, the clothes they stood in, and -hearts beating high with eagerness and hope, the pair took the train for -the City of Success. - -Even on their way to it their respective positions began to change. The -actor, for all his broad shoulders and big voice and commanding -presence, betrayed from the first a helplessness and dependence that -both pleased and surprised his little wife. He anxiously deferred to her -in everything; fell in readily with every suggestion; listened with -profound respect to her plans. He knew New York inside out; poverty was -no stranger to him, nor the makeshifts and struggles of the poor; yet in -the crisis of their fortunes it was the girl that took the lead--the -girl who had never suffered a single privation in her life, who had been -reared in luxury, to whom money and ease were as the air she breathed. - -Left to his own unguided will Adair would have gravitated to a dingy -bedroom in a dingy boarding-house. It was Phyllis who perceived the -greater freedom, and the unspeakably greater comfort and charm of a tiny -apartment. The nest-making instinct was strong in her, and also the -bred-in-the-bone belief that it was the woman's place to guard her man's -well-being, and to send him forth to work in the best of trim. She did -not know how to cook; she had never swept out a room in her life, she -had never even folded a table-cloth, yet her self-assurance and -determination never wavered. All this could be learned--pooh, it only -needed hard work and intelligence,--she would answer for its being the -nicest little flat in New York, and would dismiss Adair every morning in -his best clothes, smiling, well-fed, and happy, to look for an -engagement. - -Brave, confident little heart! Intent little head absorbed in -calculations; magic the love that could cast effulgence over those -soiled green notes, and the phantom gray city, and the man, none too -good, or wise on whom such a treasure of devotion was lavished! But -some conception of it pierced his thick skin, and what there was in him -that was unselfish and noble felt disquieted at the contrast, and -strangely stirred and humbled. - -"Phyllis," he said huskily, "I--I didn't know what love meant until I -met you. I guess lots of men go all their lives and never know. I've -been sitting back here, thinking how nearly I might have missed it." - -"And getting quite scared and worried?--The poor precious! If it wasn't -for the conductor and that bald-headed man who's sure we're not married, -because I put my feet on the seat, and wear red stockings--I'd kiss you -right now, and give you a gurgle hug!" - -"There are lots like me," Adair went on with unaffected seriousness, -"but, Phyllis, there is only one of you. I suppose people are born like -that sometimes--just one of them--and there aren't any more.--When we -get round to it, we must have children; you mustn't be allowed to die -and disappear; it wouldn't be right by the world." - -Phyllis wrote down: "Pair tea-cups and saucers, thirty cents," and -announced that in the meanwhile the world would have to wait, as one -couldn't do everything at once. She added a duster to the list and a -pie-pan, while a smile hovered at the corners of her lips. It impelled -her to press her knee against Adair's, and whisper something so -sparklingly improper that he blushed. Then she returned to housekeeping -considerations with a pleased and saucy air, never so happy as when she -had embarrassed him. - - -Accommodation for dormice, although plentiful, left much to be desired, -except for dormice fond of grubbiness, gloom, and ill-smelling passages -and halls. For dormice willing to live on -One-hundred-and-jump-off-the-earth Street there was light and air, and -reasonably sized rooms, and even skimpy glimpses of the Hudson. But -Cyril wished to be near the theater district and the Thespian Club of -which he was a member, and this restricted their choice to below -Fifty-ninth Street. Heavens, what innumerable janitors they raised from -the depths, what miles and miles of stairs they climbed, what desperate -moments of indecision they endured, as, utterly spent, the precious -deposit was nearly tempted from their pockets! - -At last, however, at the tail of the most offensive little man in New -York, whose questions included the likelihood or not of an increase in -the family, and who had to be specifically assured that his new tenants -meditated starting neither a bagnio nor a sweatshop, nor were going to -teach music, or keep naphtha on the premises--at the tail of this -personage, who at every step remembered some fresh prohibition, and some -fresh possibility, the ideal was reached on the seventh floor of a house -between Second and Third Avenue. It was a box of a place--sitting-room, -bedroom, kitchen and bath--but shiny new, and with every window open to -the sun, and Fifty-eighth Street to look out on instead of some dismal -rear. It was taken at twenty-one dollars a month; their trunks followed -them in; and they camped out their second night in New York on the bare -boards of their new home. - -With all our talk of the value of money very few of us have any -conception of it. How many at least could believe that a small -apartment in New York could be furnished, and prettily furnished, for a -hundred and fifty dollars? On a doll-baby scale, of course, with -pictures taken from the ten cent weeklies, and framed in blue creton and -the same invaluable material accomplishing wonders over packing cases, -improvised into wash-stands, bureaus and seats. Phyllis sent Adair off -to the club, and set to work alone. She did not want him to see her -dirty, tousled, and wearing an old dressing-gown of his in that chaos of -disorder; though she presented a sweeter figure than she knew on her -knees beside the pail, and scrubbing the floor like a little stage -soubrette, or hammering creton with her mouth full of tacks and an -inspired expression that would have befitted a Madonna. She was too -girlish, too young, for anything to harm her beauty, and so gay and -charming that all who came fell under her spell. Gawky messengers -helped to move boxes, nail down matting, and elucidate the mysteries of -setting up a bed. The janitor's wife, a faded German woman with gentle -eyes and a soft voice, and all the European's respect for caste, -insisted on joining in; and when, Phyllis, with difficulty and some -shame, managed to explain she was unable to pay for such services, the -creature kissed her hand, and redoubled her exertions. Beauty is a -power everywhere, and if the poor can not pay its toll in compliments, -they can wash windows, clean up litter, and carry an offering of -frankfurters and sauerkraut up six flights of stairs; and with many an -"_Ach_" and "_lieber Gott_" urge the little "high-born" to rest and eat. - -And so amid kindliness and good will, the tiny apartment was got into -shape, while the dark wild days without turned to snow, and the frosted -panes showed nothing through but white and desolation. The dormice lay -snug in their nest, and though their money ebbed, and the cupboard was -next to bare, and the household work at times weighed hardly on -unaccustomed, slender shoulders, perhaps they were too near Heaven to -complain. - -Adair had never been a very respectable nor popular member of the -Thespian Club, that influential organization from which the New York -stage is so largely recruited; and the return of the lost sheep was not -accompanied by any particular enthusiasm. But Adair was too noticeable a -man, and his talent too well remembered for his presence not to cause -some stir, and soon there was comment on his extraordinary change for -the better. He was certainly no longer the loud, swaggering, -over-dressed Adair of the old days, with the dubious geniality, and the -restless eyes. He did not drink; he seemed to have lost his surly -streak; in many other ways more indefinite he had softened and improved. -The Thespians, who were nothing if not good-natured and generous, very -willingly let bygones be bygones, and some of the more important began -to suggest his name to managers. - -But the managers were made of sterner stuff than the actors and -playwrights; they had longer memories, and skins that still smarted. -They brightened at the name of Adair for the unexpected pleasure it gave -them to say "No." Each had his special wrong to avenge, each his -emphatic and passionate denunciation of a man they abominated. "I've -only two rules in running my theaters," said Mr. Fielman. "The first is -to give the public the best that money can buy; the second, never to -engage Mr. Cyril Adair!"--Mr. Paw went further: "My poy, they say in our -peeziness that the box-office talks, but if it said Adair all day and -all night, I'd sooner get out and sell shoe-laces on the street than see -his damn sneering face in any broduction of mine!" Niedringer was no -more encouraging, and the Fordingham Brothers were curt and profane. - -But the New York theatrical world is a big one; and these giants, while -of enormous importance, do not rule all the roost. There are always new -producers bobbing up; stars themselves make ventures into management and -branch out; many others, independent on a smaller scale, choose the -companies that support them. Then there are the second class houses, -the vaudeville houses, the stock companies--all requiring an army of -professional people. Then, too, hardly a season passes without several -incoming actors from some woolly, wild, unheard-of region, arriving, -full of eagerness to add Broadway laurels to brows already crowned in -Teepee City or Nuggetville, Nevada. Add to these, imported English -companies with the lesser parts often unfilled, and "angels," both male -and female, with barrels of money for some stagestruck pet, who, -desirous of a short cut to greatness, insists on beginning (and usually -ending) at the top;--and you will have some small conception of what New -York is--theatrically. - -Adair did not despair. Not only was the atmosphere of the Thespian Club -too redolent of success for that, but he was sustained besides by a -couple of small offers which he received for the "road." Determined -though he was to appear on Broadway, it was good for his courage and -perseverence to have these engagements to refuse. They served to take -the edge off the rebuffs he constantly experienced, and gave him -something not altogether mournful to reflect on as he waited -interminable hours in agents' and managers' anterooms. Not but what -there were times when it was almost unendurable. Rejection, with an -actor, carries with it a personal mortification; and his air of fashion, -his nosegay, his smartly folded overcoat, his affected jauntiness--all -intensify by their contrast the bitterness of his lot. He slinks off -with pitiful bravado, and eyes suspiciously bright, to pull himself -together for another attempt at another place, as dispirited a figure as -any to be seen under heaven. - -While Adair, with an effort as clumsy as it was touching, strove to hide -his disappointment from his wife, and put by in their little home a -steadily deepening sense of failure--she, on her side, was keeping him -in ignorance of a matter that troubled her exceedingly. Her father had -begun to write to her, but in such a way that a reconciliation, instead -of becoming nearer, seemed more remote and impossible than ever. With -all his tenderness and longing, and almost pathetic appeal "to be -friends again," he was unable to resist taking flings at Adair. His -hatred for the man came out in implications and covert allusions Phyllis -could not forgive. Ostensibly holding out the olive branch, his letters -served instead to heighten the estrangement, for behind everything was -his conviction it was simply her pride that kept them apart; that having -made a mess of her life, and committed an irreparable folly, she was -defiantly accepting the misery she had brought down upon herself. That -she was insanely happy--that she adored her husband--that neither -poverty nor hardship counted a jot in her decision--all these to Mr. -Ladd were incredibilities.--Yet the same story dressed up for him on the -stage or in a book, would have won his sympathy, and reached his -heart.--Of such inconsistencies are we made, and the poor puppets are -cried over when flesh and blood is denied. - -Of course, Phyllis was abnormally sensitive. Had her husband secured a -good engagement, and some recognition she would have been in a more -receptive mind to receive her father's advances. But Adair's unspoken -anxiety, their diminishing money, their meager meals and the need that -they had to take account of every penny--here were so many reasons to -accentuate her critical faculties.--And this to be held as a proof that -she had been "dragged down" was altogether too much. At first, full of -eagerness and over many a closely-written page she had tried to explain -matters to her father; but his disbelief was chilling, and from -hopelessness her feelings gradually changed to anger. For a couple of -weeks she had kept the thousand-dollar check he had sent her, hoping -that he would so far relent toward Adair that she might accept it -without disloyalty. Then, chagrined, she had returned it, though her -extremity was bitter, and the tears dripped over the letter that bore it -back. No reconciliation was possible that did not include her husband, -or that was offered to him contemptuously and grudgingly. If this were -impossible she begged her father to write no more, and spare her further -suffering. His answer was as unreasonable as the others, and he -contrived to wound even while he thought he was conceding everything. - -His next letter she sent back unopened, and also the one after that. -Then there were no more, and the postman's whistle presaged nothing -after that but a post card from Tommy. These, with pictures of a local -court house, or a new Masonic building, or some bald park, were almost -daily visitors. But they spoke of affection and remembrance, and to a -sad heart were not without their comfort. - - -Early one afternoon the sound of the key in the lock warned her that -Adair had unexpectedly returned. His face announced his good news -before he could so much as utter a word, and then the facts came out in -a panting, breathless torrent. Shamus O'Dowd--she knew Shamus O'Dowd, -the Irish comedian?--No?--What, never heard of Shamus O'Dowd?--Well, -anyway, O'Dowd was at the Herald Square--big business--seats selling -three weeks in advance--_A Broth of a Boy_, you know--and the fellow who -was playing Captain Carleton had dropped out, and the understudy wasn't -satisfactory--and--and--it was seventy-five dollars a week--and here -were the lines--and you could have knocked him over with a feather when -O'Dowd came right up to him at the club, and fixed it up in five -minutes, and they had run through a rehearsal to give him a notion of -the business, and it was a damned good character part, and--then, I -wonder if that twenty-one dollar apartment had ever seen the like--with -Phyllis sitting in Booful's lap, and her arms tight around his neck, and -talking two to his one, all rapture and exclamations as though he had -done something extraordinary instead of merely getting a job; and -Booful, no less proud and foolish and excited felt, too, he had done -something extraordinary, holding to the lines as though they were a -patent of nobility, and crazy to begin the study of them; and describing -the play with such humor and absurdity that his little wife thought she -had never heard anything so funny in her life, her teeth shining as she -laughed and laughed--especially at O'Dowd, who was described as fifty, -with a bull-neck, and ever too much of him in front and behind, with a -very short coat, and bounding fat legs, and such a Broth of a Boy that -he was ready to fight or dance or sing or make love at the drop of a -hat, and generally to caper from sheer exuberance of Irish youth.--Then -Booful turned suddenly serious, and got up, and said that on no, no -account was he to be disturbed, and began to pace like a lion up and -down the doll-baby sitting-room, mumbling his part to himself with a -far-away expression, and an occasional frown and swear as he missed a -word; while Phyllis, pretending to sew, squeezed herself into a corner, -and made as though she was not watching him, which she did in timid -little peeps, thinking how handsome he was and noble and manly and -splendid, with such returning recollections of his devotion, and -gentleness, and simple, unrepining courage in the hard days now fast -finishing, that she could have swooned from very tenderness. - -_A Broth of a Boy_ was a typical Irish drama. The central figure was a -rollicking imbecile, with a tuneful voice and the customary shillelah, -who foils the wicked mortgager, chucks colleens under the chin, does a -hair-raising leap over a waterfall, and is altogether so Brothy and gay -that no one can resist him. The usual British officer, condemned to -carry out an unpalatable order, and falling under the spell of a pair of -saucy Irish eyes, is found not to be half so bad a fellow as we had -anticipated; and though a good deal of a booby, and the target for -sarcasms that he is too obtusely English to perceive, gradually wins the -toleration and even the affection of the gallery. In real life he would -probably have been court-martialed for his arrant disregard of -instructions, nor would a bare-legged milk-maid have been considered -quite the prize the dramatist deemed her.--But one mustn't criticize -this dreamy region too harshly. That great baby, the public, loves -it,--and in the theater-world there is plenty of room for this grotesque -Ireland, and always will be; and baby's patronage feeds many worthy and -deserving people, who otherwise might have not a little trouble of it to -live. - -Yes, let us be lenient toward the Irish drama. It brought seventy-five -dollars a week to that little apartment high up in East Fifty-eighth -Street, and hope and courage to hearts that were beginning to falter. - - - - - *CHAPTER XXI* - - -In the whole house that night of Adair's return to Broadway there was -probably but one person in front who was even aware that the bill had -been changed. That rapt little spectator waited with her heart in her -mouth for the actor's appearance, and thrilled herself with fairy tales -while the play ponderously opened, and took its course. Adair would be -recognized; there would be a wild demonstration of welcome; cheers, -applause, yes, an ovation, with people standing up, and the gallery in -an uproar!--It was a dream, of course, a phantasy, for her head was too -squarely set on her shoulders to count on anything of the sort, but -nevertheless it exhilarated her enough to make the reality doubly, -trebly disappointing. - -His entrance was unheralded by a single handclap, O'Dowd having just -retired amid thunders, with part of the audience still insistently -humming the refrain of _Sweet Kitty O'Rourke_, (words by Stevowsky; -music by Cohen). Adair's first few lines were altogether lost in -consequence, the scene beginning in vehement pantomime, and the house -only gradually, and with extreme unwillingness, resigning itself to the -exit of the star. It must be said they had some right to regret him. -Adair was anxious and forced, and so desperately in earnest to be funny -that he suggested a marionette. Phyllis' surprise turned to dismay, and -dismay to an inexpressible pain. That he won many a boorish laugh only -heightened her misery. It was worse than bad, it was common, and she -could have bent down and cried in very shame. But in the throes of her -despair she was watchful, and her pretty brows corrugated with the -intensity of her attention. Poor though the part was, surely it could -be done better, oh, so much better; and if only she dared--! An -infinite compassion dimmed her eyes, an infinite pity, for was it not -for her he had stooped to this vile clowning, debasing himself, blowing -out his cheeks like a turkey-gobbler, feverishly catching at every trick -to get a grin or a titter? All this sacrifice of dignity, manhood and -self-respect to keep the poor little pot boiling on Fifty-eighth Street? - -It was terrible to sit through the play, and to realize with more and -more conviction that this sacrifice was unnecessary--that the role, -straightforwardly acted, and the comic-policeman side of it ignored, -might be made into something worth doing--not very much worth doing of -course--but still redeemed from utter banality. But Phyllis knew how -her husband bristled at the least touch of criticism. Ordinarily so -loving and indulgent, a single word of disapprobation could set him off -like an hysterical woman; before now she had inadvertently raised such -storms, and looked back on them with terror. She asked herself what she -was to do, and could find no answer. Everything in her revolted from -lying to him, and yet she would be forced to. It was not cowardice, but -the disinclination of seeing him suffer, and the dread of incurring the -harshness and anger of the man she idolized. Enmity in his eyes seemed -to strike her to the ground; her heart stopped beating; something seemed -to die within her.--No, at any cost, she must lie, lie, lie. - -She waited for him at the stage-door, a slight dejected figure under the -gaslights, and conscious for the first time that her clothes were -shabby, and that her gloves were old and worn. O'Dowd's carriage stood -by, and she envied the coachman his warm fur collar, and with it came -the thought of all she had given up to marry Adair. This put her in -better spirits, for she was pleased with everything that enhanced her -love, and gave it an unusual and romantic quality--so that for a moment -she seemed less cold, less sad, and a delicious heroine-feeling -enshrouded her. Had it not been for the fear of what was to come she -would have been altogether happy. But a pang of apprehension shot -through her, and all the pretty fancies engendered by the fur collar of -a sudden disappeared.--She was again standing on the wintry street, -tired, frightened, and disheartened. - -Adair emerged in a jubilant humor, and squeezed her arm as he passed his -own through hers, and moved in the direction of the cars. Boisterous -and gay, he was in no mood to notice Phyllis' constraint, and took her -approval for granted as he overflowed with talk. It was a great relief -to her to remain silent, and nestle close to all that bigness and -confidence, and be borne along by that strong arm. All her doubts and -fears were lost in an unreasoning gladness, and what did anything matter -but love? - -Meanwhile the genial tide of Adair's discourse continued without -intermission.--O'Dowd, who was a prince of good fellows, had patted him -on the back. Eddie Phelps was up in the air, too, and said he had -simply walked away from the other man--and oh, how good it was to be in -a theater again! It was a piffling part, but after all it was something -to have made the best of it, to have shown them what could be done in it -by a first class man. That was the beauty of the stage--a real actor -could take a janitor or an organ-grinder and create a lot out of -nothing. Did she know that all that business in the second act was -his?--Yes, positively--every bit of it his, and no wonder O'Dowd hugged -him at the wings, and said it was great--yes, just like that--before -everybody! You see, it had pulled up the whole thing where it had used -to drag, giving it zip and go. Eddie Phelps said that the other fellow -had never got a hand there. He had done better than that, hadn't he? -And if it hadn't been such a damned feeder for the star--oh, well, -success was success, if it were only an inch high! - -In this strain of self-laudation, Adair boarded a car, and praised -himself all the way home. Throughout he took Phyllis' concurrence for -granted, and his exuberance was unclouded by the least suspicion of the -truth. He had half finished his supper when with that instinct which -was one of the most unexpected endowments of his character, he all at -once perceived something to be amiss. It wasn't Phyllis' fault; she had -given not a hint of dissatisfaction; nothing was further from her -thoughts than to mar that night. - -But when he laid down his knife and fork, and stared at her across the -table she knew in an instant what was coming. - -"My God, Phyllis," he exclaimed, "it is not possible you--you didn't -like it?" - -[Illustration: It is not possible you--you didn't like it?--Page 287] - -She would have given worlds for the lie that would not come; her eyes -shrank from his; the sincerity and conviction of his tone made deceit -impossible. It was almost in a whisper that she answered: "Oh, Cyril, -Cyril,--I'm afraid I didn't." - -He pushed away his plate and got up; he could not suffer such a -mortification sitting; the flat itself seemed too small to hold his -sudden shame, his agitation, the staggering shock of what seemed to him -his wife's disloyalty. - -"What was the matter with it?" he demanded passionately. "What was it -you did not like?--No, no, you needn't try to wriggle out of it; you've -said too much to stop now; you've as good as told me it was damned bad, -and I want to know why.--The words don't matter; it isn't a question of -how you put it, nor how much I mind being knocked by the one person on -earth--! My God, Phyllis, what do you mean by saying I was bad?" - -She was terrified. No culprit in the dock ever trembled more guiltily, -or faced a brow-beating prosecutor with so stricken a look. Her -husband's bitter and contemptuous tone cut her like a lash. But it was -too late now to make excuses, to palliate the offense. There was -nothing for it but to go on--to justify herself--and the better she -could do it the more she would wound him! And all this on a night that -surely ought to have been their happiest. - -"You made the captain too--too common," she stammered. "He is supposed -to be a high-bred, aristocratic man--stupid, of course--but a gentleman -through and through. In real life--" - -"Oh, real life!" he interrupted roughly, "that's where all you ignorant, -criticizing people go wrong. He has nothing to do with real life--he's a -preposterous stage figure, a convention. I have to take what I'm given; -I'm not the dramatist; I can't write new lines for him, can I? My -business is to hide the strings that pull his arms and legs, and make -him possible--and by George, I did it!" - -"But Cyril, dearest, listen--even when you first come on you're not -polite enough, not chivalrous enough. You almost burst out laughing -at--" - -"That's to give contrast to him afterwards." - -"But you can do that, and still keep him a gen--I mean nice, and--" - -This was all she was allowed to say. Adair towered over her, convulsed, -shaking, his voice hardly governable as he stormed and raged. It was -the best thing he had ever done; it was perfect; there was fifteen years -of stage experience in that one creation. It was awful that it should -all go for nothing; it shook his nerve; it shook his confidence in -himself; he hardly knew how he could go on playing the part. He -wouldn't, he'd throw it up; he warned her to be more careful next time, -or as an actor he would be done for. It wasn't that he was afraid of -criticism--intelligent criticism--he welcomed intelligent criticism--the -criticism of those who knew the stage--helpful criticism. But to club a -man in this ignorant, crass way was simply to murder him. How could he -ever bear to let her see him again in anything? He was sensitive; he -was cruelly sensitive; it was because he had temperament; and if he -couldn't please the person he liked he had no courage or heart left, -even if he set the whole house crazy. Here was one of the best things -he had ever done, killed for ever--and it was she who had killed it! It -was the penalty of loving her that he could not go on without her -approval; he knew she was wrong; in any one else he would have dismissed -it with a shrug, and forgotten it the next minute; yet with her--! -Perhaps this sounds more ignominious than it was. To Phyllis at least -there was a great pathos in the exasperated outburst that was very far -from being due to vanity alone. The revelation of her husband's -weakness, of his utter dependence on her good opinion, atoned not a -little for the violent things he said. It enlarged her understanding of -the childishness that lies so close beneath the artist-nature--of its -swift extremes of feeling--and showed her, too, the amazing intensity -that Adair put even into a small role, and taught her afresh what a life -and death matter the stage was to him. His frenzy, therefore, instead of -rousing her resentment, and worse still her scorn and anger, rather -quickened within her a tragic pity. His burning face, his dilating -eyes, his quivering twitching mouth--all the evidences of an -uncontrollable mortification--brought forth instead that womanly -feeling, so rich in generosity and indulgence, that would sacrifice -everything for the one it loved. - -To prove that she was right seemed to her of much less importance just -then than to smooth down that wild, distraught man-creature who belonged -to her. With love in peril all other considerations were swept away. -No pride stood between, no sense of injustice; love was too precious for -such pettinesses to interfere.--Then with what piteous artifices she -began to eat her words! How adroitly did she argue so that her -surrender should not be too apparent, giving way by such fine gradations -that Adair hardly suspected the imposture. How contritely she confessed -herself in the wrong, her cringing little heart all submission, her -whole young body eager to atone her fault.--The wild, distraught -man-creature was by degrees coaxed back to tameness and sanity; the -thunders subsided; with kisses and caresses he was even prevailed upon -to resume his place at table, where, lecturing her masterfully as he -ate, though with a steadily lessening severity, dormice peace was at -length restored. By the time Phyllis had brought him his slippers, lit -his cigar, and snuggled herself against his knees, like a sweet little -Circassian who had disturbed her Bashaw, and had been graciously -forgiven by that dearest and best of men, Adair mellowed sufficiently to -feel some slight self-reproach. He apologized for having got so worked -up; fondled her glossy hair; called her his darling little stupid whom -he loved so well he couldn't endure her to find fault with him. Between -whiffs, mellowing even more, he admitted that he might have been -slightly unreasonable, even unkind, but put it all down to his -disappointment at failing to please her. "I worked so hard," he said. -"I just fell over myself to make them laugh. I--I had to think of the -seventy-five, you know, and holding down the job; and as the others -liked it, I--I thought you would. My sweetheart girl must try and make -some allowances. I couldn't help feeling cross and nervous and all -worked up--and, and, it's awful to fail, Phyllis." - -She, at this, the naughty little hypocrite, would have eaten more humble -pie; would have protested afresh that it was only one tiny-winy thing -she had objected to--though even on that she wasn't half as sure as she -had been. But Adair cut her short. In his softened humor he was -prepared to concede something to her criticism; there was a speck of -truth in what she had said, however much it had upset him; he was going -to pull up the part a bit; he was-- - -Phyllis had sprung up, and darted into the bedroom, with so sparkling a -smile, and with such an air of animation and mystery that Adair hardly -knew what to make of it all. But he was accustomed to her girlish -escapades, and lay back with his cigar, listening to bureau-drawers -being hastily opened and shut, and awaiting developments with amused -anticipation. She could be such a little devil when the fancy seized -her, and rejoiced in the most shocking exhibitions for his private -delectation. He was unprepared, however, for her to bound out in a suit -of his own, the sleeves and trousers rolled up, and her hair half-hidden -beneath a jaunty cap. She had made herself up for Captain Carleton, and -the moment she opened her mouth Adair recognized the fine parody of -himself in the role. The words she had pat, her retentive memory having -caught and retained them during his laborious "study"; and while she was -less sure of the imaginary milk-maid, she paraphrased the latter's lines -with sufficient accuracy to keep her cues straight. She knew she was -playing with fire; her face was a picture of mingled roguishness and -terror, yet she was impelled by a headlong daring that was irresistible. - -She flung herself into the scene with mad abandonment, mimicking his -voice, his gestures, his laugh, the very way he leaned against the -pasteboard gate--a whirlwind little figure, dancing crazily on the -egg-shells of his vanity. It was the cleverest, wickedest, most -unsparing travesty of his whole performance, carried through with -inordinate zest and mischief, and heightened by a slim young beauty that -had never seemed to him more alluring. Her little feet had never looked -so small as with the coarse trousers flapping about her ankles; the -audacious curves above intensified her sex; while the partly opened coat -displayed the ribbons and lace of her night-dress beneath--the whole a -vision of captivating girlhood. - -Adair at first made no sign at all except to stare at her in a sort of -stupefaction. His face grew so dark that she felt shivers running down -her back, and for a moment she wondered if she had not mortally offended -him. The first smile she wooed from him set her pulses dancing with -relief. Yes, he was smiling, he was laughing, he was clapping his -hands; and then, oh, the joy of it, he was bursting out with great, deep -"Ha, ha's" of delight! Thus encouraged, she redoubled her exertions; -she outdid herself; she was in the second scene now, and was tearing it -to pieces like a puppy with a rag-doll, panting with excitement and -success, and rapturous with victory. Adair jumped up, and in a paroxysm -of admiration, passion, exultation and self-reproach, ran and crushed -her in his arms. Phyllis felt the filmy lace-stuff rip asunder, and his -lips seeking her flesh, while all incoherent he breathed out that he -loved her, loved her, loved her, and that she was right; yes, he had -been playing it all wrong; never would he go against her judgment again, -and then and there took back every word he had said! He was just a -vain, silly, conceited, swollen-up jackass, not even worth her -finger-tip; and he couldn't forgive himself for the way he had treated -her; and the only thing he could think of doing to show how badly he -felt was to plump down and kiss her little slippers, which he forthwith -did with a humility that would have been more impressive had there been -a less frantic flurry of kicks and protests. - -Thus the evening that had begun so ill ended in tenderness and profound -accord. The very last thing Mr. Dormouse murmured as he lay locked in -his wife's arms was that she was the cleverest little actress in the -world, and pretty enough to eat, and a million times too good for -him--which on the whole was the truest thing Dormouse had said for a -long while, and showed that his ideas were improving. Little though he -knew it he was improving in every way, and could he have set himself -back six months he would have been astounded at the contrast. Women -make men in other senses than the physical, and this robust lump of -egoism, selfishness, ignorance and conceit was being slowly and -unconsciously transformed. Something of Phyllis was passing into him, -and in the magic of that soul-infiltration the grosser side of him had -begun to crumble. - - - - - *CHAPTER XXII* - - -It is disappointing to chronicle that the altered and improved rendering -of the English captain passed almost unnoticed. Mr. Kemmel, O'Dowd's -right-hand man, indeed had objected to the change; and failing to bully -Adair into submission had carried the affair up to the star. But that -comedian, with a kindness that bordered on a sublime indifference, -refused to interfere. "Hell, it don't matter how he plays it as long as -he gets the words over," was his sage comment; and a wave of a large, -fat hand dismissed the subject for ever. O'Dowd had his own private -reasons for wishing to stay on good terms with Adair, which he was too -regal, if not too cautious, to pass on at that moment to Mr. Kemmel. -O'Dowd, being star, manager, and half-author of the piece was minting -money under all three heads, and his concern for the box-office was -proportionately great--so great that he could consider the choice of an -understudy without irritation, and even accept a man who might "draw." - -On first being commanded to understudy his principal, Adair had accepted -the task much in the spirit of Mary Ann, when she is told: "Oh, I forgot -to say you must do the washing, too!" It was a drudgery and a bore that -he would have been well content to avoid, for one look at O'Dowd's red -face and vigorous frame convinced him of the remoteness of the -contingency for which he was to fit himself. He set no hopes in that -direction, and it came to him as a real surprise, a couple of weeks -after he was engaged, to be asked into the office and told of a new -contract he was to sign. - -"'The Guv'nor ain't satisfied with that fourth clause," said Mr. Kemmel. -"He says it ain't plain--hey, there, don't let Phelps go, I want him and -Klein for witnesses." - -"Where isn't it plain?" demanded Adair, who remembered the document as -one of unusual rigor, without even the usual two weeks' notice. "Do you -wish to add penal servitude to my other fifty-seven penalties?" - -Mr. Kemmel did not deign to smile. He was a pale, bald Jew of about -thirty-six, with a peculiarly bleak way of addressing actors. - -"No," he answered, "we want to clear up the understudy part of it." - -"Understudy part of it? What do you mean?" - -"Well, if you went on for five or six weeks, taking the Guv'nor's place -every night and matinee--you might make out like it was a new -engagement--and try to stick us." - -Adair was too mystified to take offense. - -"Stick you?" he repeated. - -"Yes, sue us afterwards for three or four times the salary."--Mr. Kemmel -sighed, and looked upward, as though reflecting on man's inhumanity to -man. "In this business one has to be so careful," he added, as -impersonally as though he were speaking to a stone pillar, "so -careful--well, as I was saying, here we have iron-claded it, and you are -to sign where it is penciled, and return the old contract to-morrow." - -The typewritten words swam a little as Adair gazed at them; he was -afraid of being tricked; he wanted to make sure that the precious -seventy-five a week had not been tampered with. But there it was, all -right, along with the new proviso. It was difficult to believe that -this last amounted to anything, for O'Dowd's appearance precluded the -least idea of illness. The man was as strong as a bull, with a voice -that shook your ear-drums, and the shoulders of a negro coal-heaver. He -was offensively healthy, and so limited in any interest but the theater -that he moped visibly of a Sunday. One might as well understudy the -Metropolitan Museum on the chance of its taking a night off. Adair -laughed as he signed the new contract, and hardly thought of the matter -for a day or two afterwards. - -It was Kemmel who again brought it home to him. - -"I'm keeping the orchestra for you to run over the Guv'nor's songs again -with them," he said. "You sing them good enough, but the leader says you -crowd the overture, and sometimes get ahead of him." - -There are no people in the world so unmurmuring as actors; they will -rehearse till their voices crack and their legs drop off, and all this, -too often, under volleys of insults and reproaches. Adair had played -two performances that day, and was worn out and hungry; yet it never -occurred to him to make any objection to such an unexpected order. The -poor, weary orchestra was there, as hungry and worn out as he, but as -willing as every one connected with the stage seems always to be; they -scraped and tootled and drummed and bassooned for two mortal hours, from -a quarter past eleven till after one A.M., while Adair sang Irish -melodies to the darkened house. O'Dowd himself, in a stage-box, was the -solitary though far from silent spectator. Cigar in mouth, profane, -morose and savagely critical, he bellowed furiously from his dark -crimson cave. - -"No, no, no, _no_! Hell's bells, do that again! At the second verse -there now! For God's sake, Mr. Glauber, emphasize the key-note, boom it -out on that first cornet so he can't miss it, and lam it in again on the -minor. The minor! _The minor_, damn it! And, oh Lord, Adair, call -that a brogue? Hell's bells, it's because you're in such a -hurry--Glauber will wait for you--damn it, give it again, let it stick -to your teeth--like this: 'Of owl the ma-a-a-a-ids of swate -Kilda-a-a-a-rrr--'" - -Adair had an unusually tuneful voice, and the middle register of his -rather high baritone was full of warmth and charm. These catchy -melodies appealed to him, and the sentiment was of a downright, popular -kind. One rollicked the humor and quavered the pathos, and either put -in brogue or didn't as one remembered or forgot it. As a matter of -fact--except for the brogue--he did the songs more justice than the -great O'Dowd himself, and sang them more sweetly and appealingly. He -had no conception of it that night, however, as he was hectored and -bullied without cessation until his eyes smarted, and his bewildered -head was whirling. He had a whipped feeling as he went off, and a -corroding sense of defeat and failure. It was idiotic to expect him to -sing, and now that he had been tested and found wanting he hoped the -silly goats would leave him alone. - -He turned as he was putting on his overcoat in the wings, and saw that -one of the silly goats had followed him. It was Mr. Kemmel, more -bleared and bleak than ever, and evidently with something disagreeable -to say. - -"Oh, Adair," he exclaimed in a low voice, "hold on a minute, I want to -talk to you. I've called a full rehearsal for to-morrow at nine -o'clock, orchestra and all--for you'll have to go on in the Guv'nor's -place to-morrow night!" - -"I go on?--_I_?" Adair was thunderstruck. "What do you mean, Kemmel?" - -"Just that." - -"But he's as well as I am." - -"The climate ain't agreeing with him, hee, hee!"--Kemmel's cackle was as -cold as the draft off an iceberg. - -"The climate?" - -"New York state. He's got to get right out to-night, and that with us -playing a run, and with eight weeks of our lease unexpired. If it -weren't for the lease, and my Lord, the forfeit to Boaz and Gotlieb, -he'd jump us out with him, run or no run. Ain't it awful, Mabel!" - -"But Kemmel, what's the matter?" - -"Well, it's like this, Adair. He and Julia Garrett were divorced here -two years ago, and the dime museum freaks who tried it allowed her to -marry again, and forbade him. They do things like that in New York, and -if you kick it's contempt of court! The next day he married our Mrs. -O----, Claudia Kirkwood at Chicago. See? There's nothing they can't -forget here in two years, and so we came back, feeling pretty safe--and -would have been, too, if number one hadn't got tired of the man who was -keeping her in London, and rushed over here with her little hatchet. -We've been trying to buy it, but it wasn't for sale--at least not at any -figure we could pay--so we made a bluff offer of eight thousand, and -reserved our Pullman!" - -"Are you going to try to keep the run here?" - -"_You_ are!" - -"And if I can't--if I don't draw?" - -"Then we'll close." - -"I wonder you didn't get Anderson Bailey or Henry Millard, or that man -who has just left Blanche Mortimer--what's his name?" - -"Costs too much--you're cheap." - -Then to take the edge off this remark, he added: - -"Say, that's not a knock; we wouldn't take them, anyway; I'm not -throwing any bouquets, Adair, but you are damned good in it, really -damned good--and are exactly what we want. And don't you feel sore -about the money, either. We are paying you seventy-five salary, and -four hundred and twenty-five worth of chance to make a big hit. You -wish to get on, don't you? Well, you may be a made man in eight weeks. -We're taking a gamble, and so must you. What if you are a holy frost? -Don't go around belly-aching for money, but see if you can't win out. -We believe you can; we are sure you can; go ahead!" - -Praise, opportunity, the belief of others in you--how softening they -are! Kemmel, the niggardly, the fault-finding, the lean, mean jackal of -the Irish lion, suddenly took on a new hue. Adair found himself shaking -his hand. What a good chap Kemmel was, after all! He shook his hand -cordially, effusively, all former bitterness forgotten in an -intoxication of joy. Kemmel melted too, under that irresistible spell; -had a spasm of expansiveness and indiscretion; went so far as to say, in -a darkling, confidential manner, that Adair had sung "all round" the -boss. - -"That's why I went for you like I did and balled you up now and then," -he confided. "It wouldn't do to have him think _that_, you know. He's -funny, like all of them, and while two-thirds of him is box-office, the -other third is temperament--and my, it don't do to jar it!" - -Phyllis had been sent home alone long before this, and Adair found her -sound asleep in bed. A considerate husband would have let her lie -undisturbed, and would have kept his great news till the morning. But -Adair had no more compunction in waking her up than if she had been a -pet puppy; and rolled her over, and tumbled her about almost as roughly, -and with the same clenched-teeth zest in her drowsiness, beauty and -helplessness. And she, woman-like, loved it, roughness and all--which -goes to show how stupid consideration is at times, and how misplaced. -Adair never gave it a thought, and his selfishness was rewarded by two -bare, satiny arms reaching for his neck, and the eagerest little mouth -in the world begging kisses and taking them. - -And the news? - -Don't blame him if it had grown a little. It was so truly-truly big -that there could be no harm in making it a trifle bigger. Is it not -permissible, with your adoring little wife nestling beside you in her -nightie, and holding you fast lest you might suddenly be snatched away -by some envious and ruthless agency--is it not permissible, I say, to -add a stick and a cocked hat to some ordinary, very plainly-dressed -facts? The whole rehearsal, thus gloriously reviewed in the retrospect, -was brought up to the key of Kemmel's appreciation. The unexpired lease -of the theater was seen to be a subterfuge, and no doubt O'Dowd had gone -away to organize a number two company--the shrewd fellow; he and Kemmel -mighty well knew they had made a "find"--they weren't in that business -for nothing--and both were up in the air about it. The next thing would -be a two years' contract, with a real salary and percentages! Cyril -Adair, the Irish comedian, ha, ha! Well, why not? It would bring him -back to Broadway in the right way, the big way! Bring him back to stay, -by George, for with this as a stepping-stone they'd never get him off -the grand old street again. And once solid-- - -With unloosened imagination they soared the sky, vying ecstatically with -each other in that ethereal azure where everything is possible, two -little children before the opening doors of paradise, and hardly less -simple and naive--big hand on little, voice outstripping voice, -girl-heart and man-heart blended in an idyllic love. But alas, closer -than paradise, oh, so much closer--on the next floor, in fact--was an -honest motorman of the Metropolitan Street Railway, who lumbered out of -bed, and hammered loudly on the floor for silence. On East Fifty-eighth -Street this was a hint not to disturb a sleeping toiler. Bang, bang, -bang, and the creaking springs and bedposts as the stalwart Brother of -the Ox again sought repose. He got it all right; he often had to -hammer, but never had to hammer twice; Phyllis had a great deal of -humorous tenderness for her working-men neighbors--those decent, silent -men who used to pass her so respectfully on the stairs; who played cheap -phonographs on Sunday nights, raised families and canaries, owned dogs -and took in boarders, till one wondered their apartments didn't bulge -out and burst!--So McCarthy returned to the Land of Nod, and the -dormice, reduced to whispers, soon kissed each other sleepily, and took -their own road thither. - - - - - *CHAPTER XXIII* - - -One wonders sometimes why almost anybody can not be a successful Irish -comedian? Given a good figure, a pleasing, sympathetic voice, and a -face naturally inclined to smile--and the rest seems as easy as taking -pennies from a blind man. Certainly Adair caught his house as surely as -ever did O'Dowd, and moved through the piece amid the same thunders of -applause. Younger, handsomer, and an incomparably better actor, and -with that charm, so baffling to describe, which yet was ever-present and -ever-compelling, he measured himself against his predecessor, and never -for a moment had the least doubt of the outcome. It is not often that -fairy tale came as bravely true; that the dream of overnight turned as -quickly into the fact of to-day. Small wonder that Adair, standing -there on the stage when all was done, his ears still ringing with the -applause of that departing audience, was too exalted, and much too -self-sure to fret at Kemmel's misgivings. - -"Oh, you did fine," cried Kemmel. "You were splendid, splendid! But -will they ever come back?" He jerked his head in the direction of the -curtain.--"It was O'Dowd that brought them--not you; they already had -their tickets; the pinch comes to-morrow, day after to-morrow. Can you -draw them then, ah, that's the point?--No, no, don't misunderstand me, -Adair. I'm all up in the air about you; you justified all we hoped; -more than we hoped; you don't need to be told how you hit them to-night. -But I'm scared--scared of your success--and I'm that nervous that I--!" -Again he turned towards the curtain, and his voice was almost a wail. -"Oh, my God, Adair, will they ever come back?" - - -The astonishing thing was that they did--crowded back, swarmed back, -breaking all the records of the piece. Business rose by leaps and -bounds till they were playing to capacity; till the thrilling words -"sold out" were posted almost nightly on the box-office window; till a -ravening horde of speculators took possession of the sidewalk in front, -alternately delighting Kemmel with their advertising value, and wringing -his soul with anguish at the money he saw going astray. Not that these -were his only preoccupations; he was too loyal to his employer's -interest, and too expert a theatrical man to let a success run along -without a guiding hand. Adair's name went up in electric letters; -pictures and paragraphs were scattered broadcast; an option was secured -on another theater to continue the run, and, what seemed to him the best -of all, he had Adair securely tied up by a new contract. Kemmel, in his -own words, was "on to his job," and in his letters to O'Dowd he was -already urging a number two company, and submitting estimates and names. - -The new contract, of course, was a marvel of one-sidedness; -on-to-his-job Kemmel naturally saw to that, and paid a legal iron-worker -twenty-five dollars to make it of seamless steel. But on the running -out of the existing contract at seventy-five dollars a week, it assured -Adair two hundred and fifty as long as it pleased O'Dowd to employ him. -Seamless steel could not accomplish everything, and a substantial -increase of salary had to be accorded. Adair would have stood out for -more; but Phyllis, with feminine caution, prevailed on him, to make no -demur. Booful's day would come; stick to her and he would wear -diamonds--not to speak of bells on his darling fingers and toes; but -just now money was secondary to cementing his position till he was stuck -up so high on Broadway that they'd have to feed him with a -ladder.--Besides, two hundred and fifty dollars a week was an _awful_ -lot of money. Forty weeks at two hundred and-- - -"Forty weeks, you goose!" expostulated Adair. "I'd be the last person to -object if it were forty weeks. But down there, on that smudgy blue -place, they can cancel everything in forty seconds." - -"People aren't cancelled who are playing to capacity." - -"I know, but the utter damned meanness that--" - -"Poor little Booful mustn't worry, and if he'll stop damning and -rampaging, I'll take him down to his Uncle Macy's, and show him that -lovely fur coat I want him to buy as soon as we have some money." - -"I suppose you are right, Phyllis, but it galls me to--" - -"My darling, sweetheart love," she broke in with pretty seriousness, -"nothing is so important as your success, and once make that secure, -money follows as a matter of course. Let Booful keep shinning up the -pole, even if they do pick his pockets, and never think of anything but -the gilt ball at the top, and--and _me_." - -This was good advice and Booful acted on it. The two hundred and fifty, -too, looked less despicable as every day drew it nearer; and as it -became, not an abstraction to be argued over and theoretically scorned, -but a tidy little bundle of greenbacks that would go far to ease life, -both on the spending side of it and the saving. Oh, yes, half of it was -to be laid by in the bank for a rainy day. Meanwhile, they lived up to -the last cent of the seventy-five, which once so much, now suddenly grew -meager by contrast, and by the greater inroads made upon it. Booful -rolled home in cabs; there were little restaurant suppers with a -fizzling pint of wine; Phyllis bought a coveted peignoir, made out of -pale blue fluffy-nothingness, and with a hand-embroidered collar -delicately touched with gold.--Well, why not? The nearing future was -too bright not to discount it a little in the present. - -We have said that Kemmel kept his press agent busy; and in the same -thoroughgoing spirit that placarded every garbage-can from Twenty-sixth -Street to Harlem, strove by a thousand means to get Adair's name -prominently into the papers. If he succeeded beyond all expectations he -ascribed it to his own astuteness, instead of to the fact that Adair, -for the moment, was an extremely spectacular figure in the theatrical -world. It was one of the remarkable things about this man that he -impressed himself so indelibly in the recollection of every one who had -ever known him. It was too often a disagreeable recollection; he had -sown hatred with a royal hand; yet, in a queer, negative, altogether -unprofitable way he had fascinated everybody. Others might make a -disagreeable impression and be forgotten. But no one ever forgot Adair. -Magnetism, personality, genius--whatever word one chose to call it--he -had the peculiar faculty of arresting attention, of exciting interest, -of making people talk and speculate about him. - -It was indubitably at times a most unlucky gift. With his reappearance -and success the flood-gates of his past were opened, and there gushed -forth a Niagara of malignant chatter. His amours, his fights, his -disreputable escapades, his divorce--all were revived. Every one seemed -to have a story to his discredit, and to be in haste to get it into -print. Nor was his marriage to Phyllis allowed to escape the same -soiling publicity, and the tale was embellished with slanders and -innuendoes that would have goaded a much more patient man to fury. -Adair was with difficulty restrained from knocking editorial teeth down -editorial throats; and it showed Phyllis' power over him, and the change -generally in his disposition that the police courts were untroubled by -his presence. - -Lies about herself Phyllis could bear with some fortitude, but Adair's -earlier life, as thus revealed by the sensation-mongers, cost her many a -bitter pang.--The woman who had tried to shoot him at the Cafe Martin, -and the whole revelation of that horrid affair--the Burt-Wauchope -scandal, where rather than save himself by compromising an unknown girl, -he had gone to prison for contempt; and that, not quietly and nobly, but -with a vain-glorious satisfaction in his martyrdom--the discreditable -spree on Tim Bartlett's yacht--how horrible, how unendurable it -was--this graveyard resurrection of bygone years! - -Adair never justified himself to her, never tried to palliate or explain -away the incidents of his outrageous past. That instinct, which in all -his relations with her invariably guided him aright, served him as well -now as it had always before. He was more gentle, more tender, trusting -to kisses rather than words. "Don't let this hurt you," he once said to -her, the only time he had ever ventured to speak to her, "that wasn't -me, Phyllis. There wasn't any me until you came. You know that, don't -you? No me at all, but just a big brute, and if he didn't have a soul -it was because it was in your bureau drawer along with your stockings -and handkerchiefs, and I guess you thought it was a sachet bag or -something, and never looked at it twice." - -The most jealous, dismayed and heart-sick of women could not have -resisted such pleading; not if she were in love, that is, and her -lover's voice was as appealing, and his eyes as convincing and -sincere.--In a divine commingling of wife-love and mother-love, so pure, -so uplifting that it transcended all physical expression, save alone -what the breast could give, she drew his head to her bosom, comforting -him, comforting herself in an act emblematic of all that is most -beautiful in humanity. - - -The more one studies the stage the more one is surprised by its -disregard of principles that govern every-day, ordinary affairs. -Perhaps it is because actors are all children, who have clung -tenaciously to playing Indian in the hall, and shooting tigers under the -parlor sofa long after the rest of us have grown up. It is a good thing -for the world that "temperament" is so largely confined to the -paste-board walls of the theater; or we might see our grocer sulking -over his butter, or railway presidents impetuously ordering off trains -because they had taken a sudden distaste to the landscape of some state. -Self-interest, that sheet anchor of society, is but a kedge to the -theatrical ship, and many plow the main without even that. Caprice -often outweighs all money-making considerations; and though we are far -from decrying those who sacrifice dollars to art (and there are many), -may one not be a little peevish with the others, whose vanity and -wilfulness often take such spiteful forms? - -It certainly cost Shamus O'Dowd all of twelve thousand dollars, if not -double or treble that amount to close the run at the Herald Square -Theater and bring it to a peremptory conclusion. From his Rocky -Mountain ranch he had watched, with a grinding and increasing anger, the -success of the man to whom he had left his role. The swelling royalty -returns exasperated him; the laudatory notices, sent in such profusion -by Kemmel (who was innocent enough to think they would please)--were as -tongues of flame leaping up the legs of a captive at the stake (such fat -legs as they were, and with such an ample scorching surface), and all -the talk of another theater and a second company clogged his eyes with -blood, and seared his low, coarse face with the furrows of an -intolerable indignation. - -Nightly for twenty-five years he had been taking others' crimes on his -brawny shoulders--murder, arson, embezzlement, forgery--he grabbed for -them all, never so happy as when misjudged, with only the audience in -the secret of his sacrifice; nobody on the stage could do anything wrong -without his making a rush to take the blame--and the oaths he kept with -an incredible fidelity; the superb impulses that started from him as -freely as perspiration; his goodness, chivalry, and almost insensate -honor--! Oh, the irony of reality as contrasted with those affecting -fictions! - -"Dear Kemmel," he wrote, in his ugly, sprawling, impatient hand. "Take -the bloody show right off, and fire Adair, and keep the others on -half-salary till you can fix me up a route outside of New York. In -God's name, what do you think I'm made of, that I'm to play a number two -company all around the clock while he's starring my hit on Broadway? -And don't you put up any back-talk about it, either, for I mean every -word of it if it takes my last red--though you must see that it don't. -If we have to go forfeit on the theater, hell's bells, pay the bloody -cormorants, and do you hear, Get Out!!! For I'm sick of the whole -business. Fix it up with Mallory to send out something like this, even -if you have to pay space rates for it, and I want it featured:--'The -substitution of Mr. Cyril Adair for Mr. Shamus O'Dowd in the star-role -of _A Broth of a Boy_ has resulted so disastrously to the management -that the Herald Square Theater will be dark on Monday night, and all -outstanding tickets refunded at the box-office. The experiment was an -unfortunate one for all parties, for Mr. O'Dowd, previous to his -departure from New York, owing to his doctor's orders, was playing to -enormous business, and bade fair to remain all the season. In Mr. -O'Dowd's hands _A Broth of a Boy_ has been a record money-maker, and -friends of the genial star will be enthusiastic to learn of his early -return to harness. The old adage of the lion's skin is thus verified -again, and we are not disparaging Mr. Cyril Adair when we say he was -unlucky to be cast for the Donkey.' - -"I hope this is all clear, and that I have not overlooked anything. -Perhaps when you are about it you had better fire Grace Farquar, too. -Pretty girls are cheap, and I should like another more come-on, -preferably a blonde this time. Received your check for $1,182.40. No -more for the present. Cordially yours, Shamus O'Dowd." - - - - - *CHAPTER XXIV* - - -The right girl's cheek against his own is usually worth more to a man -than all the philosophy to be found in books. Adair was stunned; he was -too helpless, too hurt even to murmur. When one is struck by a -thunderbolt, one lies where one falls. He expected Phyllis to fall -also, and in a dull, heart-broken way was surprised by her intrepidity. -She picked up the great, despairing creature; kissed him, petted him, -crooned over him like a baby, smiling through her tears, and exerting -all her pretty fancifulness to make him smile, too. Men may excel in -marching up to cannon and saving people from burning buildings, and -descending to the bottom of the sea in submarines; but in the forlorn -hopes of life it is most often the women who lead. - -After a while Adair was revived; on examination it seemed that he wasn't -seriously damaged at all, only scared--oh, yes--just scared all out of -his poor Booful wits; and a fairy potion called: "What does anything -matter as long as we have each other?" was extraordinarily effective in -pulling him together again. Then Phyllis jumbled up all the swear-words -she had ever heard, and hurled them indiscriminately at Shamus O'Dowd, -with such piquancy and humor, coming as they did from that sweet mouth, -and with such a delicious lady-intonation that Adair was convulsed, and -a tiny bit shocked--which was precisely what she had schemed for, the -daring little wretch. - -Thus began a new era of looking for an engagement; and it must be said -it was a very sad, anxious, bitter era, for they were dreadfully -poor--hungry-poor--and every time there was a knock at the door it was a -dun who had to be coaxed and persuaded into going away. Adair's recent -prominence had done little to incline managers towards him, and though -they were more civil, and he generally got greater consideration at -their hands, it was evident that their former hostility still persisted. -But his professional reputation now stood pretty high; and occasionally -one, bolder than the rest, would coquette with him, keeping him on -tenter-hooks while a frantic search was made "for somebody that would do -as well." This somebody was always found, and Adair would be told -politely that "the vacancy had been filled." - -Incidentally he learned that his parting from O'Dowd had been grossly -misrepresented by that "genial star," who had spread it about broadcast -that Adair was as impossible as ever, and so inflated and top-lofty that -it had been cheaper to break the run of the piece than to stand his -vagaries any longer. This was in such accord with Adair's former -character that it found ready credence up and down Broadway; and the -great Mr. Fielman himself enunciated the general sentiment when he said -to Rolls Reece, the dramatist: "If that fellow Adair only had the -manners and decency of a common hod-carrier, I'd give him a five years' -contract, and make a fortune out of him; but the stage is on too high a -level nowadays for men like that to get a second chance to disgrace -it--at least from me!" - - -No one appreciates more than an actor the need for being well-dressed -when seeking an engagement. His appearance is a considerable part of his -capital, both on the boards and off; he may have had little breakfast, -and less lunch, but his clothes must be good, and his linen immaculate, -and in a "profession" judged so largely by superficialities, it behooves -him, poor dog, to affect at any cost an air of fashion that but too -often is the most pathetic of masquerades. - -It was now that Phyllis rose to the occasion with an unexpected capacity -that showed she was, indeed, her father's daughter. She got the -janitress to teach her how to wash and iron white shirts; and in a short -time could glaze a bosom better than her instructress, and almost as -well as a French laundry-man. She learned how to press Adair's coats -and trousers; she turned his ties; she ironed his collars; she cleaned -his gloves with gasolene. No man was ever valeted with more assiduous -care, or sent out every morning looking sprucer or better-groomed. When -she kissed him good-by for the day it was always with a playful -admonition, for Adair bore adversity none too well, and though he tried -to hide his despondency he was beginning to break down under the long -continued strain. - - -"And he knows he's a great, big, handsome, splendid Booful?" - -"Oh, he's sure of it!" - -"And he's going to step out like a Crown Prince going down to see his -Emperor-Papa at the club?" - -"You bet he is." - -"And swing his cane as though he owned all Broadway--and throw back his -head like a Greek statue, and swagger into their horrid old offices like -a millionaire? For he _is_ a millionaire, you know--not a money-one, -but a Love-Millionaire--for don't I love him millions and millions?" - -It took a kiss to answer that; and then the Love-Millionaire, laughing a -little tremulously, would hurry away, whistling with much bravado as he -went down the stairs, two at a time, as suited a great, big, handsome, -splendid Booful; who, whatever his demerits in the past, was fast -retrieving himself before the Great Judge.--And if, on his departure, -Phyllis would lay her head on her arm and give way to uncontrollable -tears, you would be wrong to feel too sorry for her. For the misfortune -that draws a man and woman together, and extorts from each their noblest -qualities is not really a misfortune at all, but a precious and -beautiful thing that it would become us more to envy. - -Thus the days passed in a deadening, cowing, unutterably depressing -search for work. Adair was rebuffed, put off, told to call again; he -abased himself to men he despised; he forced his presence with hungry -persistence on dramatists and stars who were putting on new plays, -affecting a good fellowship that was a transparent, dismal lie. He -tried to buy them wine, cigars--inveigle them into promises, and his -lunch often went in a tip to some greedy understrapper who guarded their -portals. - -It is strange the mile-wide demarcation that divides the real stage--the -stage of Sothern, John Drew, Faversham, Maude Adams, etc., from that -other to which Adair had so long associated himself. This other had no -representative save Adair in the whole Thespian Club. It was a region -apart, and a region that Adair was determined never to return to. It -would have called him back willingly enough, and in his desperation he -might have returned to it had it not been for Phyllis. It was she who -kept his resolution alive; she was too confident of his talent to let -him throw it back into that Dead Sea; it meant the abandonment of every -serious ambition;--artistically speaking, suicide, death.--Booful -belonged to the top, and it was his business and hers to get him there. - -Brave words, but how about fulfilment? The end of the month would find -them turned out of doors. Phyllis dreaded to see herself in the glass, -she was becoming so pale and wan; in the unequal battle everything was -going except her courage; sometimes, alone in the silent apartment, even -that seemed to droop, and a daunting terror would overwhelm her--less -for herself than for Adair. He was drinking again, and justified -himself with a bitter vehemence. "They all say, 'Have a drink'!" he -exclaimed. "Nobody ever says 'Have an eat'!"--His harsh, despairing -humor recurred to her, as well as his sudden resentment at her pity. He -had made atonement, but the sting remained--or rather a foreboding of -something somber and evil that in spite of herself she could not shake -off. - - -One day at the club a card was brought Adair, inscribed Mr. John H. -Campbell; and the boy told him the gentleman was waiting to see him in -the visitors' room. Adair knew no such person, but he went out to greet -him with mingled curiosity and hope, for here perhaps was the -long-sought engagement. An imposing, distinguished looking, very -well-dressed man of fifty rose from the sofa, and asked him, with much -suavity, whether he had the pleasure of addressing Mr. Cyril Adair. -This question being quickly and politely settled, the imposing gentleman -begged for a few words of conversation; and indicating a place for Adair -beside him, he reseated himself with a bland, kind air which yet was not -without an underlying seriousness, not to say solemnity. - -"I have come on a very confidential matter," he said, fixing Adair with -his shrewd, keen, heavy-lidded eyes. "A matter, Mr. Adair, so delicate -that it is not easy to convey it except in a round-about form. May I -explain I have sought you out at the request of--Mr. Ladd?" - -There was a pause; the shrewd, heavy-lidded eyes slowly inventoried -Adair and read beneath the tarnished air of fashion. Failure, need, -hunger sap a man, and can not be hid, least of all from a professional -observer. John Hampden Campbell was one of the leaders of the New York -bar and was what they call a "court room lawyer" of high rank; which -means that others hand up the guns, while he shoots them off. His -knowledge of human nature was profound, and being profound was neither -unsympathetic nor unkind. But he could shoot straight, nevertheless, -and it was hardly a satisfaction to the victim to hear that murmur of -"poor devil!" as the eminent counsel laid aside the smoking weapon. - -"My father-in-law!" exclaimed Adair in amazement. - -"He would be happier if he could cease to bear that name," said Mr. -Campbell. - -"He can hardly very well help himself," retorted Adair bluntly. - -"No, but you could," put in the lawyer, with a vagueness that was -intentional. "By this time you must realize that it is a union that is -scarcely to your own best interests nor the young lady's." - -"Haven't noticed it," said Adair, staring at him queerly. - -"Mr. Ladd would be prepared to make very heavy sacrifices to put back -things as they were before." - -"What sort of sacrifices?"--Adair's tone was not unfriendly; it was -rather questioning and perplexed. - -"We would rather leave it to you to suggest them, though we are counting -more on your concern for her welfare. Frankly, Mr. Adair, without -meaning the least disrespect, and with a thorough knowledge of your -honorable and straightforward conduct--do you consider you're acting -rightly in holding this young lady to what most people would call a very -bad bargain?" - -"Being married to a starving actor?" - -"Oh, that is putting it too--too--" - -"Of course, she has thrown herself away--I know that." - -There was a gleam in the heavy-lidded eyes. - -"It could all be rectified," said Mr. Campbell soothingly. "Very -easily, and very quickly rectified. It is just a question, it seems to -me, of our getting together, and talking it over reasonably. In fact, -some of the details might be omitted entirely. Mr. Ladd is a man of -very large means, and is the soul of honor. He would see to it that -your future was made easy." - -"How easy?" asked Adair. - -"I mean," returned Mr. Campbell, "that he would substantially recognize -your honest desire to be guided by his wishes--wishes that you admit are -just, and so much to the young lady's advantage that you are willing to -withdraw entirely." - -"Those are all words," exclaimed Adair; "let's get to figures." - -Mr. Campbell looked pained. After having confined the interview so -skilfully within the limits of irreproachable good taste, this brutality -outraged his ear. He had not been unprepossessed by Adair, and felt -sorry for him.--But here was the cloven hoof.--The fellow was just a -low, mercenary adventurer after all. - -"The figures are ten thousand dollars," he answered coldly. - -"Why, I don't call that anything!" - -"Cash," added Campbell, with a pursing of his lips. - -"Of course, it's cash," cried Adair, "it's going to be that, whatever it -is. Only it isn't enough. She's worth more than ten thousand dollars." - -Campbell saw that his personal bias had made him err. Adair's vibrating -tone had caught the note of his own; suavity and good humor were -all-important, and he scurried back to them, like an incautious general -flying for the batteries he has left behind. When he spoke again it was -in his best lullaby manner. - -"My dear fellow," he said, "the real point is that you concede the -principle. That is so, is it not?" - -"Hell, yes," returned Adair. "I'd concede a lot for fifty thousand -dollars." - -"But that is a very, very large sum of money." - -Adair, with one hand in his trousers pocket, was restlessly turning over -the two nickels that were there--all he had. - -"I don't think so," he said. "Anyway, she's worth that, and more." - -"I was hardly authorized to commit Mr. Ladd to such an amount," objected -Mr. Campbell, "though I will not say right off that I might not -entertain it. But you understand, Mr. Adair, that it implies you will -not resist an action for divorce, and-- Well, you know we'd like to -have the matter absolutely settled and done with." - -"For fifty thousand dollars?" - -The heavy-lidded eyes were obscured by a momentary glaze. - -"We will meet you," said Mr. Campbell. - -Adair rubbed the nickels together, and asked, with a slight catch of his -breath, if he could have something on account. - -"Certainly," assented the lawyer, producing his pocket-book. He removed -a sheaf of bills, and Adair perceived that they were in denominations of -a thousand dollars each. He had never seen a thousand-dollar bill -before in his whole life, and here was a thick packet of twenty or more. -No wonder that he was overawed. Campbell noticed his fascinated stare, -and dilly-dallying with the notes, spread them out with an elaborate -carelessness. To Adair, it was all a blur of $1,000, $1,000, $1,000, -$1,000, a green mist of money, a crisp, crinkling, dizzying -affluence.--Campbell was saying something to him. There was a paper to -be signed. It was a temporary memorandum to be replaced later by a more -formal document. Buzz, buzz, buzz! The paper was handed to him. Buzz, -buzz, buzz, and the room going round and round. He was standing on his -feet, shaking with the pent-up passion that he had been so long holding -back. The actor in him had been waiting for that, but the actor was -lost in the man. - -"You're a damned hound!" he cried hoarsely, "And the man who sent you is -a damned hound, and here is your damned paper, and may it choke you -both! My wife isn't for sale, do you hear that! My wife isn't for -sale, whether it's for fifty thousand or fifty million! Is that plain? -Do you concede the principle, or shall I boot it into you? I thought I'd -lead you on; I thought I'd just see how far you'd go--you with your -sable overcoat, and fat pocket-book, and your stinking respectability. I -had you sized up all right, and was only giving you rope to hang -yourself. Get out of here, and get out quick, or I'll kick you from -here to your cab. Get out!" - -It was needless to say that John Hampden Campbell did not need to be -pressed. Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego in the fiery furnace could have -scarcely been in a bigger hurry. Cramming the notes and papers in his -pockets, he sped from the visitors' room like a large, imposing -projectile which had been fired from some monster cannon. A second -later his flying coat-tails were deposited in his cab, and he was -speeding away, considerably shaken in spirit and body, for the mountain -quiet of his twenty-eight story office. - - -Lying on Phyllis' table, all ready for mailing, was a long letter to her -father. Pride had crumbled and she had determined to seek his help. -She had begun it with constraint, attempting, none too effectually, to -conceal her sense of injury and injustice; but as page followed page the -old tenderness returned with an irresistible force. That gray, handsome -head was before her, that mellow voice was in her ears, and the -wretchedness and folly of alienation came home to her with a new and -piercing significance. The request for money; the cold, exact -exposition of her need--was passed and forgotten in the impetuous rush -of her pen. She loved her husband, she loved her father, and this -estrangement was unbearable. Like many women under the stress of a deep -emotion she wrote with a singular eloquence. She wept as she described -Cyril--his unceasing goodness, his loyalty, his fortitude, his good -humor and devotion. He was everything a woman loved best in a man; and -instead of her marriage having been a mistake, a failure, it was more -than she thought life could ever give her. Would not her father forget -all that had passed, as she, too, would forget? Their love was too -deep, too dear, to make reconciliation impossible. She would climb into -his lap again, and put her arms about him--his sad, worn, desolate -little girl--and they would whisper to each other what fools they had -been, and kiss away the last shadow of misunderstanding. - -So it ran, page after page, in her fine, delicate hand, an appeal that -no father could have resisted. A beautiful letter, touched with the -quality of tears; full of womanly longing; heart crying to heart, across -an aching void. Alas, that it never went. It was torn to pieces, and -thrown passionately on the floor. Campbell had intervened, and the news -of his offer was thus received in the little flat on East Fifty-eighth -Street. "That's the end of it," cried Phyllis, regarding the scraps of -paper. "That's the end of everything between Papa and me!" - - - - - *CHAPTER XXV* - - -It is one of the peculiarities of looking for a theatrical engagement -that hope is never quite extinguished. There is always some one who -wants you to call next week; there is always a company just short of a -part they are considering you for; there is always some friendly member -of the Thespians who has "mentioned your name," and gives you a -scribbled address or a telephone number. This is stated to explain the -fact why Adair, instead of surrendering to circumstances, as any other -man would have done in any other walk of life, still snatched at straw -after straw with egregious determination. His circumstances were -becoming absolutely desperate. Suspension from the club was staring him -in the face; in eight days his sticks of furniture and his trunks would -be dumped out on the street; it was only by the most rigid parsimony -that body and soul could be kept together. Phyllis said the dormice -were floating on a shingle, and with tearful laughter would expatiate on -the pitiful, half-drowned things, so scared and hungry on a bobbing sea. -What was to happen when they slid off?--Oh, but Booful wasn't to mind. -She'd hold his poor, pretty, dormouse head up, and swim him off to a -lovely island where there were peanuts on peanuts, and an alabaster -mousery with all modern improvements. - -That lovely island seemed a terribly long way off. As the emblem of an -engagement it lay so far over the horizon that Adair began to doubt its -very existence. His eyes grew lack-luster; he lost his confident -bearing; poverty and failure stamped him, as they stamp every man with -an unmistakable mark. We instinctively move away from the unsuccessful. -We see that mark, and widen our distance. Success likes success. It -isn't decent to be very, very poor. Fingers tighten on pocketbooks, and -respectable, prosperous legs quicken their steps.--Adair was sinking, -though the dismal masquerade still went on--the immaculate cuffs, the -once smart tie, the pressed clothes, shiny with constant ironing. There -is many such a figure on Broadway--and in some mean room there is -usually a woman who believes in him, stinting herself and starving for -his sake. - -One dark, wintry Sunday afternoon in early spring, as Phyllis was -sitting near the frosted window, sewing and thinking and dreaming by the -scanty light, she was roused by the tramp of many footsteps on the stair -outside, and a confused bumping, scuffling sound, accompanied by a -hoarse murmur of voices. With a horrible premonition she ran to the -door and opened it, giving a cry as she recognized Adair being supported -in by two companions. His face was swollen and discolored; one eye was -closed in a rim of crimson; his mouth was dribbling blood; sawdust and -filth befouled his clothes, and a stench of vile whisky exhaled from him -like a nauseating steam. He was helped over to a sofa, and allowed to -collapse, while the men hurried away as though ashamed of their task, -and thankful to have done with it. - -It was the first time he had ever appeared repugnant to Phyllis; he was -drunk, and she knew it, and the fumes of the disgusting stuff stifled -her with loathing. But she unloosened his collar, laid a couple of -pillows under his head, unlaced his shoes; and bringing a basin, rinsed -the oozing blood from his lip. With pity, yes, but with the raging, -furious pity that goes with lost illusions, and the falling of one's -little world; a pity less for him than for herself that this should be -the end of a love that to her had been the very breath of life. - -He regarded her stupidly with his one open eye, moaning faintly, and -drawing himself laboriously near the basin, spat into it. Then he put -out his hand, and tried to touch her, but she shrank from him. - -"Phyllis," he said, in a raucous whisper, "Phyllis"; and then, as though -overcome by the exertion, closed that single bleary eye, and dozed off. -But it was not for very long. He awakened again. "They loaded me up -with that cursed whisky," he whispered. "I was all in, and needed it. -God, if they didn't pour a bottle of it down my throat!"--For a while he -rambled on brokenly, spluttering with laughter as he held up his -clenched fist as though he found a strange, childish entertainment in -the action.--Little by little he pulled himself together. He was a -powerful man, sound to the core, and though he was badly spent, health -and nature were rallying to his side. - -"Come here," he said, in the same husky whisper, but with a noticeable -increase of vigor and self-command. "Come here, I wanter -tellyerboutit." - -Phyllis crouched by his side, so dejected and heartsick that it was well -for him she hid her face. - -"I was with Morty Stokes and a whole lot of them," he went on, his words -running together tipsily. "Tagging on, too, you know--royal, -open-handed fellow, Morty, good fren' of mine, always something to -eat--gives bell-boy tip that would keep us for a week. And it was down -at the Queensbury Club, pay ten dollars, and, member--one-day member, -you know--though the fight we went to see was tipped off--wasn't any, -you know--but we stayed on, Morty opening champagne, and Kid Kelly was -there who beat Cyclone Crandall last month; and somehow Morty and the -Kid got into a row about Tammany corruption, and both so blind that -neither of them could have spelled Tammany for a million, and everybody -had to pull them apart. Then Morty, just blazing said: 'I can't lick -you, but here's a fellow that can,' and he pointed at me, and says, -'Cyril, I'll give you five hundred dollars to wipe this dirty loafer off -the map!' And I took it as a joke, and said yes I would, and before I -knew it they were appointing a referee, and Kid Kelly was stripping down -to the skin." - -Adair stopped and laughed--a groaning kind of laugh, as mirthless as the -wind that rattled the window-panes. "He had only been out of training -ten days, and as for my standing up against him he might have been -Battling Nelson. But it suddenly came into my head, why here's a chance -to make something--not Morty's five hundred dollars for licking him--I'd -only drunk half a glass of wine, and knew better--but a bit at the other -end of it; and so I said, yes, four hundred for the winner, and a -hundred for the man out, and all as insultingly as I could make it, as -though that hundred was for the Kid instead of me. And finally, when it -was all settled, it all wasn't--Morty standing out for two ounce gloves, -and the others for sixes, he saying he wanted to mark the dirty mutt -with something to stay; and that it was to be two ounces or nothing, -though what was to happen to me in the mix-up wasn't mentioned, the fact -being he didn't care as long as he could see the Kid pounded; and it was -two shakes the Kid didn't pound _him_, it all worked up to such a -hullabaloo, with some of them holding him, and others the Kid, and all -of them yelling at once till at last they shoved us into the ring, with -Tom Hallahan for referee, and Billy Sands holding the stakes and keeping -time, and then we shook hands and squared off. - -"The Kid wasn't so soused but what he had an inkling of the truth, and -at the first go-off he meant to let me down easy, like the good-hearted -Irish boy he was, and I could see it in his eye--(half of fighting is in -the eyes, Phyllis)--and it was just a pat here, and a wallop there, and -a lot of quick-stepping and stage-play, all feints and parries and -pretending. But I wasn't for selling the fight, thinking Morty might -sour on it, and call the whole thing off--so I walked right into the -Kid, hammer and tongs; and by the time I had barked my knuckles on his -teeth, and landed him a lefter on the jaw for all I was worth, he was as -savage as hell, and ready to kill me; and by George, it was only -bull-headed luck that he didn't--that, and the wine he had drunk, and I -stood up to him for five rounds; and first it was for the hundred -dollars, and then for my very life. I managed to get on my legs before -I was counted out on the fifth, though the floor was heaving like a ship -at sea, and I saw about eight of him, shooting out sixteen arms, and -eighty-four fists; and down I went for keeps.--But I got it!" - -He opened his hand, and showed two fifty dollar bills. - -"They won't put us out on the street for yet a while," he said -gloatingly. "We're a hundred dollars ahead, not to speak of about nine -quarts of whisky! Take it, sweetheart, and, and--" - -Her arms were about him, and she was sobbing, her lips seeking his, -unmindful of the blood, the swollen, discolored flesh, the stale reek of -whisky, every fiber in her agonizing with tenderness and remorse. Those -things that but a minute before had filled her with an unutterable -revulsion, that had shocked and dismayed her beyond expression were of a -sudden transformed into the evidences of a tragic devotion. It was for -her that he came to be lying there, disheveled, bleeding and dirty; -covered with livid bruises; smashed, disfigured, and cruelest of -all--misjudged. No wonder that the scorching tears fell; that the -girlish arms could not hold him tight enough; that the little head -snuggled down so pitifully, so guiltily, to atone for the cruel wrong. - -"I guess the dormice are still on their shingle," said Adair, "though a -lot of skin and fur has been rubbed off one of them. Make him a cup of -tea, dearest--his little nose is hot, and I'm sure it would do him -good!" - - - - - *CHAPTER XXVI* - - -It was a week before Adair ventured to go out except at night, and it -was longer still before he outgrew the stiffness following the lost -battle. He congratulated himself on having come so well out of it, for -an ordinary man, however good an amateur boxer, runs a serious chance of -harm in a fight with a champion pugilist. The doctor passed his ribs, -passed his jaw, deliberated over his collarbone, and finally reduced the -damages to a pair of broken knuckle-bones and a badly-sprained wrist. -Privately he warned Phyllis that her husband had had a narrow escape, -and told her to keep him out of mischief for the future. "He's the -worst-mauled man I have examined for a long while," he said, "and that -blow over the heart might have killed him. Next time let him agree with -his adversary quickly according to the Gospel--or use a club, and use it -first." - -But the knuckles and the wrist were not all the damage. With lessened -strength there was lessened will, lessened courage; and acquiescence in -defeat succeeded the long spun-out endeavor to turn the tide of fortune. -Soon it was tacitly understood between them that they could strive no -longer; and when Adair, with something of a catch in his voice, said he -would go round and see Heney, Phyllis made no demur. Heney represented -that other stage of nonentities and fourth-raters; that maelstrom of -hopelessness, cheapness and shoddy; that vast theatrical system which -cadges for the public's small change, and seeks to please the -factory-girl and the artisan. To go back to it was to abandon -everything--ambition, reputation, future. - -Yet it was pleasant to be warmly received. Heney was overjoyed, gave him -a good cigar, patted him on the knee, and said he was just the chap he -had been looking for to take out _The Danites_. He had been working -over the piece himself to introduce Portolini's trained dogs, and -incidentally to "jack it up." Heney was common and underbred and talked -with a toothpick in his mouth--but he was a man not without a certain -feeling. He made no allusions that might embarrass Adair, and ignored -recent events. His consideration was increased perhaps by the -opportunity thus given him of getting Adair for _The Danites_. He had -been hoping to revivify it with the trained dogs, but here was a man who -could command success, for Adair was a money-maker and the surest "draw" -in the business. Terms were quickly settled. A hundred a week, and a -forty weeks' contract, with the usual notice on both sides. It could be -typed and signed later on; meanwhile here was a spare carbon of the play -to look over; and rehearsals would begin as soon as the dogs had -finished their vaudeville dates at One Hundred Twenty-fifth Street and -Brooklyn. - -Adair left the office feeling as though he had sold himself to the -devil. An old nickname of his recurred to him as he walked slowly -homeward: "The Four-bit Mansfield." He kept repeating it on the way, -"The Four-bit Mansfield, The Four-bit Mansfield!" Yes, that was what he -was; that was as near as he would ever get to the real thing; before he -hadn't cared, but now it was gall and wormwood to him. Yet it was as -"The Four-bit Mansfield" that he had won Phyllis. It would not do to -forget that. Winning Phyllis had been the most wonderful event in his -life, little though he had appreciated it at the time. Looking back at -it all he was astounded at his own blindness; astounded and frightened, -too, to recall how easily the affair might have had a different ending. -Love was a queer business; he hadn't really cared very much for her at -first; he had simply taken her because she was so bewitchingly -pretty--and with such innocence had offered herself; and yet, bit by -bit, it had grown to this, grown into something that was the only thing -in life. He could readily conceive himself dying for Phyllis if it -meant saving her or protecting her, and that with no tom-fool fuss -either, or theatrics. - -A fellow couldn't hope to carry away all the prizes, and he'd rather be -a "Four-bit Mansfield" with Phyllis than the biggest kind of a star -without her. What a gay, gentle, insinuating, clever little wretch she -was! He could come home in the damnedest humor--it hurt him to think -how often he had--so cranky and impatient and cross that any other woman -in the world would have flounced into a fury--and little by little she -would coax him and pet him and smooth him down till instead of flinging -plates at each other, as most people would have done, by George, she'd -be sitting on his knee, and he'd be smiling down at her, a thousand -times more in love than ever, with such a pang of self-reproach, and -such a new understanding of her sweetness and tenderness that his heart -would swell till he could hardly speak. - - -When Adair left his house that afternoon to call on Heney, he noticed a -large, luxurious limousine snailing along Fifty-eighth Street as though -the chauffeur was searching for a number; and he wondered what so fine a -car could be doing in such a mean neighborhood. Had he seen it stop in -front of his own door he would have been more surprised still, for that -was what it did, to the extreme gratification of the youngsters playing -about the sidewalk. A gentleman alighted, rang the bell marked "Adair," -pushed open the door when it began to emit mysterious clicks of welcome, -and toiled up those interminable stairs till he found Phyllis awaiting -him at the entrance of her little apartment. - -"I beg your pardon," he said, "I'm looking for Mr. Adair?" - -Phyllis saw before her a thin, dark, exceedingly well-dressed man of -about forty, with an aquiline nose, a pale handsome face, and an air of -noticeable distinction and importance. - -"I'm sorry, but he has just gone out," she answered. "I am Mrs. -Adair--will you not come in?" - -He followed her into the sitting-room with a manner of such ease and -good-breeding that Phyllis was suddenly transported back to her former -existence, and tingled with a pleasurable curiosity. - -"Perhaps I can do instead," she said, smiling, and offering the stranger -a chair. - -"Not only as well--but better," he returned. "If I had not heard about -you I should not be here at all." He kept staring at her in a keen, -questioning way with something of the penetration, and the appearance of -inner mental working of some great specialist studying a patient. -Though continuing to look at her, Phyllis could feel that those -brilliant eyes had left nothing in the room unnoticed, and she realized -with a twinge how pinched and shabby it all must seem to him. - -"I am Rolls Reece, the dramatist," he observed at last. "It may be that -you've never heard of me, though I hope you have--for it will facilitate -matters." - -Of course that name was familiar to Phyllis. Rolls Reece was the author -of more successful plays than any man in America. He was the founder of -a school--his own school--and to take a foreign word for which we have, -no equivalent he was essentially a _feministe_. In representing nice -women on the stage, women of refinement and position, he had a field in -which he stood paramount. Not that he confined himself wholly to plays -of this type, however. He was an indefatigable worker; with an ambition -that balked at nothing; he was always reaching out, always trying -experiments; a piece of his, _Money, the King_, had been strength and -brutality personified.--That it was Rolls Reece who was before her -filled Phyllis with a sudden and gratified astonishment. - -"Certainly I know your name," she said. "Who is there that doesn't!" - -He waved the compliment from him with a gesture of his hand--a hand as -fine and small as a woman's. One invariably associated Rolls Reece with -those fine, small hands, which, when he grew excited, gripped themselves -on his chair with the tenacity of a sailor's in the rigging of a ship. -It showed the importance he attached to this interview that he was -already beginning to clench the furniture. - -"My dear lady," he went on, "I have to be frank with you--and being -frank, especially in regard to an absent husband, is neither easy nor -agreeable. Perhaps I had better give you the sugar on the pill first; -and that is I have outlined a play that I should like to write with the -idea of Mr. Adair creating the central figure. If I could write it with -him in mind, I am presumptuous enough to think I could make a big thing -of it.--He could do it, of course--do it magnificently. This talk does -not turn on his talent, his ability, which is immense. No, no, these -are not compliments. Years ago when I was a nobody on the _Advertiser_, -doing theatrical criticism with a recklessness and off-handedness that -now makes my gooseflesh quiver to look back on--just a know-it-all young -ass--I remember the profound impression Mr. Adair's work used to make -upon me. I have often seen him since, going out of my way to do so--one -has had to, you know--and that original conviction of his power has -steadily grown with me." - -He stopped, giving her that curious look of his, so grave, and yet with -what might be called a smile in suspension. - -It swiftly lit up his face as Phyllis remarked: "Now for the pill?" - -"Yes, the pill," faltered Rolls Reece, gripping the arms of his chair, -and appearing acutely uncomfortable. "Ahem, the pill is--I suppose it -isn't grammatical to say are--well, in fact, some of Mr. Adair's -characteristics that those who admire him most, must deprecate and -deplore--characteristics that have unhappily hampered, or rather so far -have ruined his career. Please, please, Mrs. Adair, do not stop me! -This is not a question of personalities at all. Regard me simply as a -contractor, looking for a first-class workman--Bill, we'll call him; and -it having reached me in a round-about way that Bill has married and -pulled up, I've dropped in on Mrs. Bill to make sure." - -"Are you not afraid Mrs. Bill may be prejudiced in her husband's favor?" - -"My dear lady, it is remarkable to find any one prejudiced in Bill's -favor! That it should be his wife is all the better." - -"Better for what?" - -"I've told you I want to write that play for him." - -At this Phyllis' rising ill-will died away. There was too much of the -little Frenchwoman in her for her not to become diplomatic and cool when -her husband's interests were at stake. Instead of making a hot -rejoinder, she replied, with a frankness not at all easy under the -circumstances: "I understand perfectly what you mean, Mr. Reece. It is -true he has spoiled everything, and has an awful lot to live down. I -ought to be grateful to you as the first person--the first important -person--who has realized that he has changed. But how am I to convince -you of it?" - -"By speaking just as you do." - -"Oh, I can hardly hope that a wife's word will count for much. Yet, Mr. -Reece, it is absolutely true." - -"It is not his past that bothers me," went on Rolls Reece. "Everybody -has a past, and I was a theatrical critic once myself--but what I want -to be assured of is that he won't begin a new one. Really, Mrs. Adair, -if I put him in a big Broadway production can I be guaranteed that he -will--behave?" - -"Yes." - -"And neither drink, nor quarrel with anybody, nor punch anybody's -head--(including mine)--or calmly leave us in the lurch because he -doesn't like the pattern, say, of the dressing-room carpet?" - -"Wait and talk with him yourself.--All that folly is over and done -with." - -"The longer I live," observed Rolls Reece, "the more I appreciate that -women are the power behind the throne. Every man, in a queer, subtle -sort of way, reflects some woman. I came here to see whom Adair was -reflecting, and if I hadn't been satisfied I shouldn't have stayed. My -interest is selfish, of course. My unwritten play to me is much more -important than Mr. Adair; otherwise--to me, I mean--his peculiarities of -character would be of supreme unimportance.--May I say he reflects an -unusually charming and delightful one?" - -Phyllis smiled. - -"I hope that means it is all settled?" she asked. - -"If you'll go bond for him--yes." - -She clapped her hands. "Oh, I'm so glad," she cried. "Oh, Mr. Reece, I -can not tell you how poor we are, how desperate. It has been such a -heart-breaking struggle, and we had almost reached the giving-up -place.--But tell me, you say the play is not written yet?" - -"Oh, no, we're talking of an October opening." - -October! They were then in early April. The joy, the elation died -under that crushing blow. What was to become of them during the -intervening months? Phyllis could scarcely speak, the disappointment -was so keen. "It will be very hard for us to wait," she said at last. -"Mr. Adair has to go back to the cheap theaters, and from what he said I -am afraid he will have to sign a long contract." - -Under any other circumstances Rolls Reece would have laughed. Adair, -that disreputable genius, as a scrupulous respecter of contracts, -foregoing the star part in a New York production at the dictates of -honor and conscience was sublimely incredible. But nevertheless -Phyllis' own sincerity impressed him. Her beauty was of a fine, -sensitive, aristocratic type, the kind that the dramatist, of all men, -would recognize and appreciate the most. The proud yet touching air, -the exquisite girlishness, the arch, appealing, pretty manners--all -disturbed him with a feeling that verged on jealousy. No doubt Adair -had altered. To be believed in by such a woman surely counted for -something; to be put on a pedestal by her was to stay there, of course; -it was impossible to conceive anything low or underhanded being confided -to one who struck him as the embodiment of candor. The surprise was how -Adair had ever got her. - -"I have thought of all that," he said, referring to her last remark. -"If Mr. Adair will be satisfied with modest roles, and will consent to -go on the road, I can contrive to keep him busy the whole summer." In -the mouth of any other man, what he added would have sounded intolerably -conceited; but he had been successful too long, and had grown too used -to it, for the sentence to be anything but matter-of-fact. "I have -eight companies out, you know, and whether my managers like it or not, -they'll have to find room for your husband." - -His tone was so considerate, so kind, and his eyes gave such a sense of -dawning friendship that Phyllis' reserve melted. She spoke eagerly, -with a little tremor of emotion, and a delicious consciousness of -sympathy and responsiveness. "I want to tell you about him," she said. -"I couldn't do it before when it seemed in doubt whether you'd risk your -play with him or not. It would have seemed, oh, as though I were trying -to plead with you, and debasing myself and him to win you over. But now -that it is settled I am not ashamed--no, Mr. Reece, I am proud to make -you realize how you have misjudged him." - -With this as a beginning she told him of their coming to New York; of -their struggles and privations; of Adair's unshaken, unwavering devotion -during those bitter days. With poverty love had not flown out of the -window; no, it had drawn them closer together than ever before. She -might never have known otherwise the depth of the noblest and tenderest -heart that ever beat; he had never complained, never railed--had borne -himself throughout with a sort of silent fortitude, and oh, all this -with such an effort to be cheerful, to make light of things that were -grinding them to pieces. She told him of her father's offer, of Adair's -passionate rejection of it at a moment when he was next to starving; of -the fight with Kid Kelly, and the hundred dollars he had earned at such -a cost. Through her mist of tears she saw that Rolls Reece was not -unmoved; his eyes, too, were moist; once he took her hand, and pressed -it to his lips, with something about their being friends--always -friends. Throughout he had perceived the other side of the story, the -side she had not dwelt on, and indeed was scarcely aware of--her own -intrepid part in that comradeship, her own sustaining courage and love. -The picture she drew of Adair conjured up for the dramatist another even -more touching; and old bachelor that he was, and pessimist of pessimists -on the marriage question he momentarily turned traitor to all his -convictions. - -When she stopped, with a sudden shame at having unbosomed herself to a -stranger, and in a confusion that was all the prettier for the blush -that accompanied it, and the air at once so deprecating and scared as -though she were disgraced for ever--Rolls Reece hastened to save her -from the ensuing embarrassment. - -"You mustn't regret having taken me into your confidence," he said. -"I'm just an old sentimentalist, and belong more than anybody to that -world that loves a lover. It is worth all those stairs to hear anything -so really affecting and beautiful, and when I said I wanted to be -friends, I meant it." - -"I'm afraid you're almost as impulsive as I am, and as indiscreet." - -"Oh, my dear lady, if it wasn't for indiscretion what a dreary planet -this would be to live in.--Imagine the heartrending effect if everybody -thought before they spoke, and men were all wise, and women were all -prudent! Why, what would happen to dramatists?" - -"You are nice," she said, giving him a candid, smiling look in which -there was a lurking roguishness; "and I'm glad we're going to be -friends; and I'm not a bit sorry I gave you a peep into an awfully -hidden place--a girl's heart, you know--though, of course, you mustn't -expect to make a habit of it; and I'm glad you're the great, famous, -splendid Rolls Reece, and are going to like me, and write Cyril a -wonderful play, and be our fairy uncle for ever and ever; and some day, -when you are accused of plagiarism or something, and they put you in -jail, I'll come down to the prison and bring you a loaf of bread with a -file in it, or change clothes with you in your cell, and then it will -come home to you how very lucky you were ever to know me, and you will -skip off to South America bursting with gratitude." - -"In the meanwhile I'm afraid the fairy uncle had better bring his call -to an end," remarked Rolls Reece. "It's less spectacular--though I can -still be grateful, mayn't I? Indeed, I am so happy, Mrs. Adair, for you -have convinced me in more ways than you are aware of that we have been -unjust to your husband, and that I may safely trust the play to him." - -"I can't help doubting whether you'll ever come back?" she said, as they -stood confronting each other. "It's a dream, and you are a -dream-dramatist, and I'll wake up from a nap, and will find everything -more miserable than before because of it.--Some day you will know what -this means to us," she added poignantly. "Some day when--when it's -long, long passed, and we can talk about it like ordinary people.--You -have to get a little way off to be sorry for yourself, don't you? I am -just beginning to see how unspeakably wretched and forlorn we were, that -poor boy and I, though I should probably have never found it out if it -hadn't been for you." - -"Well, that's over," said Rolls Reece comfortingly. "If he'll work hard, -and do his best, I'll back Mr. Adair through thick and thin. He has an -unquestionable talent; it will be a pleasure, an inspiration to write -for him; if he'll do his share, I'll engage to do mine, and between us -we'll keep at it, play on play, till we land a winner. Only--" and here -he paused, and raised a warning finger. - -"He'll be as good as gold," said Phyllis, filling in the interval. -"Don't let the fairy uncle worry about that." - -"And when may I see him?" - -An appointment was forthwith made for the same evening; and the -dramatist shook hands, and was about to go when Phyllis exclaimed again -that it was a dream, and that it simply couldn't, couldn't, couldn't be -true, and asked him laughingly to leave his umbrella as something -tangible to show Adair. Rolls Reece caught at the notion, but instead of -anything as prosaic as an umbrella, slipped off a superb ruby ring -instead, and laid it on the table. - -"There's the pledge of the fairy uncle's return," he said gaily, and -hurried away before it could be restored to him. - - -"Good Heavens, Phyllis," cried Adair, "what's that thing?" - -"A ring." - -"But it's a ruby--why, it's valuable--where on earth did it come from?" - -"A fairy uncle left it." - -"Left it?"--Adair stared at her astounded. - -"Yes, I was afraid he wouldn't keep his promise to come back, so he said -I could hold it by way of a pledge." - -"But who is He?" - -"Rolls Reece, I think his name is." - -In an instant he was by her side, clutching at her arm. - -"Phyllis--my God--it wasn't really Rolls Reece?" - -"Yes, Booful-love-darling, it just was, and I've adopted him as our -fairy uncle, and he has adopted us, and he's coming back at nine this -evening to talk things over, and he wants to star you in a new play of -his, and listen, listen, Cyril, he believes in you, and says you have an -immense talent, and says he is going to write you play after play, and, -oh, my darling, my darling, my darling--!" - - - - - *CHAPTER XXVII* - - -Rolls Reece returned and redeemed his ring, and attested his sincerity -in manifold and delightful ways. He did not mince matters with Adair, -however, and put it to him straight, in a man-to-man talk that lasted -but twenty minutes yet in which everything was said, accepted, and -agreed on. The actor, dosed alternately with home-truths and praise, -emerged triumphantly from the ordeal. - -He was told he had missed a magnificent career; that it was only his own -unmitigated folly he had to thank for it; that the number of successful -dramatists who were willing to write plays for him was reduced to -precisely one--and that one was none too sure of his, Adair's, -reformation--though as confident as ever, more than ever, of his genius. -That word, like charity, covered a multitude of sins, if Rolls Reece -could say that nothing else mattered. Adair, in fact, let the whole case -against him go by default. - -"I'm changed," he said simply. "That's all behind me, Reece. The -reason for it is in the other room there--and I should think the sight -of her is worth all the denials and protestations I could make." - -"Yes, indeed, it is, Adair," said Rolls Reece. - -"I suppose there are men who can get along by themselves, and be -decent," remarked Adair. "But I need girl-ballast in my little ship, -and if I had had it earlier I shouldn't have made such a confounded ass -of myself." - -"Then we can count it as all arranged--and I'm going to start at work on -the play to-morrow." - -"It may sound commonplace," said Adair, "but apart from your play, and -success, and all that--I'd like to make her, well, you know--feel that -she hadn't drawn such an awful blank in the husband-raffle. Oh, God, -Reece, I've pulled her down to this--look at this place I've made her -live in, will you?--And I shan't breathe a free breath till I get her -out of it." - -"It is in your own hands, Adair." - -"Perhaps you overestimate my--well, what I can do?" - -"No, I don't, and I'm not alone in that either. Fielman, Fordingham, -Taylor, Niedringer--it's common talk with all of them. You can pull it -off if you want to." - -"Oh, Lord, don't say that again, Reece. If anybody on this mortal earth -ever wanted to, it's me." - -"Not another word then. You're satisfied and so am I; and if you should -ever feel discouraged, remember there are only about thirteen men in -America who can act, and you are one of them, and not the last, either. -Let's call in that charming wife of yours, and see if she doesn't agree -with me." - - -Rolls Reece secured a six weeks' engagement for Adair in a play of his -called _The Upstarts_, that was touring Washington, Baltimore, Syracuse, -Cincinnati, and what are called the near-by cities. The hundred and -fifty dollars a week seemed a veritable fortune, though it was judged -wiser to husband it by letting Phyllis remain in New York, and thus save -the heavy traveling expenses that would otherwise have been incurred for -her. The dormice had learned the value of money with a vengeance. Adair -himself, once the most careless of spenders, now showed an economy that -was laughable and pathetic. He foreswore cigars; lived in the cheapest -of cheap boarding-houses; grudged every penny that could be saved. -There was to be no more shingle for dormice, but a warm little nest -lined with green bills, from which, in hard times, they could put out -their little noses unafraid. - -Rolls Reece expected to secure him another engagement with a western -company to fill in the summer months; and with such an agent enlisted in -his service the most spendthrift of actors needed to have taken no -thought for the future. But Adair, who never did anything by halves, -was cautious to the point of penury. He was determined Phyllis should -never suffer such privations again, and those who called him miserly and -mean little suspected the reasons that made him appear so. Phyllis -herself was kept in the dark lest she should emulate his example; and -the savings-bank account rose and rose without her having the least -knowledge of it. The equivalent of cabs, good dinners, cigars, wine, -expensive rooms, and Pullman berths stacked themselves in that yellow -pass-book, and bore witness to a stoical self-denial. No more shingles -for dormice, thank you! - - -In spite of the separation Phyllis was not unhappy during those long, -silent days. Spring was in the air, and her heart, too, basked in that -inner sunshine of contentment and hope. Like a weary little soldier she -was glad to rest on the battlefield beside the parked cannon, and enjoy -the contemplation of victory. Body and soul had been sorely tried; the -reaction left both in a sweet languor; it was pleasant to do nothing; to -lie back dreaming. - -Rolls Reece came often to see her, and many a day they spent in his big -motor racing over the snowy landscape of Long Island or Westchester -County. He sent her flowers; he was assiduous in the little attentions -women like; he was always so cheerful, so helpful, so kind. For him it -was an intimacy that might have had a dangerous ending. He was -perilously near falling desperately in love with Phyllis, and the latter -never showed more address than in the way she guided him past the rock -on which their friendship might have foundered. She was quite frank -about it--disarmingly frank. She liked him too well to lose him, and -told him so, and was prettily imperious with him, and yet never -provocative nor coquettish. A man and woman friendship is nothing -without sentiment, but it has to be a loyal, tender sentiment, that can -cause neither the least self-reproach. Rolls Reece slipped by the rock -unhurt, admiring as he did so the adroitness of the young beauty whom he -knew had grown so fond of him. As to that there was never any -question--it was self-confessed--and being a man he was naturally -flattered and pleased. - -But he was high-bred, sensitive, clever, and innately a gentleman, with -an unusual perception, and a taste for the rarer and finer qualities of -women. Others in his place might have persevered harder, and then turned -sullen. He did neither. Indeed, Phyllis' whole love-story, as it came -out by degrees, touched him profoundly. Her audacity, her daring, her -blind reckless headlong surrender to the man that had captivated -her--all these to him were more than moving. A woman that could stake -everything for love was altogether to Rolls Reece's taste. And Phyllis -had not only staked everything, but had succeeded in the more difficult -task of making love endure and grow. There were many subjects on which -she knew nothing; she could not have told the name of the -vice-president, and she thought the Balkans were in South America, but -when it came to love the dramatist was amazed at her profundity. On -this topic, however, the one topic that seriously interested her, she -had an insight and a knowledge, not to speak of a whole whimsical -vocabulary that made Reece appreciate his own shortcomings. Love, -passion, sex--these were the real things of life and that demure brown -head was insatiably concerned with them. - -Of course, the new play, too, came in for an endless amount of talk and -discussion. It was to be called _The Firebrand_, and every few days -Rolls Reece had a little sheaf of manuscript to read to her. It dealt -with a young man, who, in the whirl of politics, had secured the place -of a police-court magistrate in a low quarter of Chicago. The -suffering, misery and injustice thus passing in review before him, first -startles and then rouses a nature passionately sympathetic and humane. -His decisions are original, picturesque, and conventions are torn to -pieces. He clashes with the boss who has put him into office, and -defies him. The young judge makes enemies right and left; alienates the -family of the girl he is engaged to; is sold up at auction through -liabilities assumed on behalf of a children's society he has started. - -The boss leads in the machinations to ruin him, which is made the easier -by the firebrand's own hot-headedness and indiscretion; the third act is -in an assignation house where the judge is trapped. He explains his -innocence to his triumphant tormentors; he tells of the half-grown girl -he has trailed there, and appeals, with a fine outburst, to their -humanity to help him save her; the boss refuses, and taunts him with the -scandal that next day will shake Chicago. Then the judge plays his -trump card, and tells them what he had been trying to hold back, that -the girl is no other than the boss' own daughter; and smashing open a -door discloses her and the satyr, who has brought her there. This, in -brief, was the play, shorn of all its externals--an intense, powerful, -essentially modern play, brutally real, and yet animated by a burning -purpose, and a resentment no less fiery against the diabolical -misgovernment of our large cities. - -Rolls Reece labeled it "dangerous goods," which in truth it was, and was -correspondingly uplifted. He said he was tired of writing sugar-candy -plays, and wished to show his detractors that he could grapple with big -emotions as well as the lesser, pink-tea femininities with which his -name was always associated. "And remember, Mrs. Adair," he explained, -"I don't want a goody-goody young man with a benevolent forehead and a -spotless past, and a Y.M.C.A. accent--but an impatient, -chip-on-his-shoulder, impulsive fellow, who would like to get off the -bench and fight somebody. It's a Cyril Adair play, and I am going to -fit him as carefully as a Fifth Avenue tailor. And on the police-court -judge side of it, I am going to show the public the colossal power those -men have for good or evil. They can blight more human lives in one -morning than the whole Supreme Court could do in ten years. In their -dingy little field they are absolute monarchs, from which there is no -appeal. We owe thousands of criminals to their crass stupidity, and -when they work in collusion with corrupt politicians they are a scourge -and a terror to every decent man or woman in their midst." - - -The dramatist had referred several times to a friend of his, Andrew -Hexham, whom he particularly wished Phyllis and Adair to meet. -Ordinarily so frank he was somewhat hazy and mysterious in his -references to this personage, who apparently was a man of large fortune, -and of considerable importance in theatrical affairs. Once Reece -dropped his play, and went off for three days--an extraordinary lapse -from his habit of persistent industry--and on his return mentioned he -had been, staying with Hexham, smiling in a queer, guilty kind of way -that tantalized Phyllis' curiosity. But nothing could be got out of -him--at least nothing that could explain his singular entertainment -whenever Hexham's name came up. It seemed, however, that this man had -to be won over; that _The Firebrand_ was in some dim manner dependent on -his good will; that he was a fussy, troublesome, dictatorial person, not -a little prejudiced against Adair. This had to be overcome at a -meeting; and Phyllis, especially, was commanded to go out of her way to -be "nice to him"--"You're such an irresistible little baggage when you -choose," said Rolls Reece. "I want you to tie him up in bow-knots, just -as you tied me, to dazzle him, and then we'll sign the contract right -there before he can undazzle himself." - -"I'm not much good at fascinating people unless I like them," returned -Phyllis ingenuously and doubtfully. - -"Oh, you'll like him," protested Reece. "I'll answer for that, you -know." - -"Well, I'll do my best," said Phyllis, wondering to herself what it all -meant. "I'll sit very close, and make dachshund eyes at him, and -encourage him to talk about himself. That's the secret of woman's charm -when you analyze it. See how it caught you!" - - -It was too bad, though, that Rolls Reece should have chosen the Sunday -that Adair ran over from Philadelphia, where _The Upstarts_ was booked -for a week. The pair had been separated for nearly four weeks, and -Phyllis wanted her husband all to herself. Rolls Reece, Andrew Hexham, -even _The Firebrand_ itself, were very secondary things when weighed -against the rapture of Adair's return. She pleaded with Rolls Reece to -postpone the meeting until Monday afternoon, but the dramatist with -unexpected obstinacy stood out for Sunday evening. Hints were lost on -him, and even some pink-cheeked, shy, half-murmured things merely made -him laugh instead of relenting.--Sunday night it had to be. - -But to do him justice, the dramatist tempered severity with his usual -generosity. He sent a prodigal amount of flowers, as well as a case of -champagne, and would have contributed his colored butler had he been -allowed--which he wasn't. Phyllis said that the Pest Person (as all -that day she hotly called Mr. Hexham)--the Pest Person had to take them -as they were, and if there was one thing worse than a hired butler, it -was a borrowed one. If the Pest Person didn't like the way he was -treated--if he were the sort of Pest Person who judged people by striped -nigger-trousers and gilt chandeliers, why, he could just go to the -devil.--Which went to show, incidentally, how good that four weeks' rest -had been for Phyllis, and how fast she was getting back her former -spirit. - - -At nine that evening Adair and Phyllis were both waiting for their -visitors. True to her promise to Rolls Reece the latter had dressed -herself with unusual care; and Adair, who was allowed to see but not -touch, swore she had never looked more ravishing. Her fresh young -womanhood entranced him; she was so slender, so graceful, so girlish, -and the red rose in her hair was not more exquisite. What a beauty she -was! How altogether perfect from the top of her dark head to her trim -little feet!--And the saucy mouth that was always ready to part on the -dazzling teeth; the low, sweet, eager voice; the bubbling, caressing -laugh--after four weeks of loneliness, of dismal, dreary separation, it -was as though he had never really appreciated them before; and it was -intolerable to be stuck to a chair and forbidden to move when everything -in him bade him seize her in his arms, and assert his master's right. - -Worst still, Rolls Reece and the Pest Person were late. The minutes -ticked away--five past, ten past, a quarter past, twenty past--and yet -there was neither dramatist nor Pest.--Ah, there they were at last! -Phyllis ran to admit them, fumbling at the latch of the door in her -excitement. She opened it on the dimly-lighted landing, and held out -both hands in welcome to Rolls Reece, who stood before her. His friend -was hidden in the shadow, but as she glanced towards him recognition -suddenly pierced her heart. It was her father! - -All he said was her name, and that so humbly, and with an intonation so -affecting that she flung her arms about him in a paroxysm of tenderness, -unmindful of everything save the love that suddenly flooded her whole -being. Misunderstanding, self-justification, the rights or wrongs of -their unhappy estrangement--all were forgotten, all were swept away. -Clinging to him she guided him along the passageway and into the -sitting-room, where Adair, bewildered and astonished, was waiting to -receive them. Even in the throes of that tumultuous moment Phyllis, -trying to see with her father's eyes, took in Adair with a welling -pride. Never had he appeared to her more manly, more distinguished or -noble; and when she said: "My husband, Daddy," it was with a little air -that told of her own content with the man of her choice. - -"I am here in the character of a repentant father, with ashes on his -head," said Mr. Ladd; and going up to Adair, held out his hand. "Will -you not forgive me?" he asked, "and may we not be friends?" - -Rolls Reece had looked forward to being present at this evening of -reconciliation; of being patted on the back for the big part he had -taken in it; of drinking his own champagne amid the ensuing festivity -and joy. But as he saw the two men's hands meet and grasp; as he saw -Phyllis press between them, her eyes suffusing, and sobs choking her -utterance, he realized that he was gazing at a scene too sacred for him -to share. He silently effaced himself, shut the door without noise, and -tiptoed down the stairs. - -"It's a good world," he murmured to himself, "yes, a damned good world; -and in spite of what people say, things often work out right." - - - - THE END - - - - - - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK INFATUATION *** - - - - -A Word from Project Gutenberg - - -We will update this book if we find any errors. - -This book can be found under: http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/47434 - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law 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. -Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this -license, apply to copying and distributing Project Gutenberg(tm) -electronic works to protect the Project Gutenberg(tm) concept and -trademark. 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