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diff --git a/old/prpsl10.txt b/old/prpsl10.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..2a9f55c --- /dev/null +++ b/old/prpsl10.txt @@ -0,0 +1,1644 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Purple Parasol, by George Barr McCutcheon +#18 in our series by George Barr McCutcheon + +Copyright laws are changing all over the world. Be sure to check the +copyright laws for your country before downloading or redistributing +this or any other Project Gutenberg eBook. + +This header should be the first thing seen when viewing this Project +Gutenberg file. Please do not remove it. Do not change or edit the +header without written permission. + +Please read the "legal small print," and other information about the +eBook and Project Gutenberg at the bottom of this file. Included is +important information about your specific rights and restrictions in +how the file may be used. You can also find out about how to make a +donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!***** + + +Title: The Purple Parasol + +Author: George Barr McCutcheon + +Release Date: September, 2004 [EBook #6575] +[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule] +[This file was first posted on December 29, 2002] +[Date last updated: November 1, 2004] + +Edition: 10 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII, with 2 ISO-8859-1 characters + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE PURPLE PARASOL *** + + + + +Produced by Avinash Kothare, Charles Aldarondo +and the On-line Distributed Proofreading Team. + + + + + +THE PURPLE PARASOL + + +GEORGE BARR McCUTCHEON + + + + +THE PURPLE PARASOL + + + + +Young Rossiter did not like the task. The more he thought of it as he +whirled northward on the Empire State Express the more distasteful it +seemed to grow. + +"Hang it all," he thought, throwing down his magazine in disgust, "it's +like police work. And heaven knows I haven't wanted to be a cop since we +lived in Newark twenty years ago. Why the dickens did old Wharton marry +her? He's an old ass, and he's getting just what he might have expected. +She's twenty-five and beautiful; he's seventy and a sight. I've a notion +to chuck the whole affair and go back to the simple but virtuous +Tenderloin. It's not my sort, that's all, and I was an idiot for mixing in +it. The firm served me a shabby trick when it sent me out to work up this +case for Wharton. It's a regular Peeping Tom Job, and I don't like it." + +It will require but few words to explain Sam Rossiter's presence in the +north-bound Empire Express, but it would take volumes to express his +feelings on the subject in general. Back in New York there lived Godfrey +Wharton, millionaire and septuagenarian. For two years he had been husband +to one of the prettiest, gayest young women in the city, and in the latter +days of this responsibility he was not a happy man. His wife had fallen +desperately, even conspicuously, in love with Everett Havens, the new +leading man at one of the fashionable playhouses. The affair had been +going on for weeks, and it had at last become the talk of the town. By +"the town" is meant that vague, expansive thing known as the "Four +Hundred." Sam Rossiter, two years out of Yale, was an attachment to, but +not a component part of, the Four Hundred. The Whartons were of the inner +circle. + +Young Rossiter was ambitious. He was, besides, keen, aggressive, and +determined to make well for himself. Entering the great law offices of +Grover & Dickhut immediately after leaving college, he devoted himself +assiduously to the career in prospect. He began by making its foundation +as substantial as brains and energy would permit. So earnest, so +successful was he that Grover & Dickhut regarded him as the most promising +young man in New York. They predicted a great future for him, no small +part of which was the ultimate alteration of an office shingle, the name +of Rossiter going up in gilt, after that of Dickhut. And, above all, +Rossiter was a handsome, likable chap. Tall, fair, sunny-hearted, well +groomed, he was a fellow that both sexes liked without much effort. + +The Wharton trouble was bound to prove startling any way one looked at +it. The prominence of the family, the baldness of its skeleton, and the +gleeful eagerness with which it danced into full view left but little for +meddlers to covet. A crash was inevitable; it was the _clash_ that +Grover & Dickhut were trying to avert. Old Wharton, worn to a slimmer +frazzle than he had ever been before his luckless marriage, was determined +to divorce his insolent younger half. It was to be done with as little +noise as possible, more for his own sake than for hers. Wharton was proud +in, not of, his weakness. + +It became necessary to "shadow" the fair débutante into matrimony. After +weeks of indecision Mr. Wharton finally arose and swore in accents +terrible that she was going too far to be called back. He determined to +push, not to pull, on the reins. Grover & Dickhut were commanded to get +the "evidence"; he would pay. When he burst in upon them and cried in his +cracked treble that "the devil's to pay," he did not mean to cast any +aspersion upon the profession in general or particular. He was annoyed. + +"She's going away next week," he exclaimed, as if the lawyers were to +blame for it. + +"Well, and what of it?" asked Mr. Grover blandly. + +"Up into the mountains," went on Mr. Wharton triumphantly. + +"Is it against the law?" smiled the old lawyer. + +"Confound the law! I don't object to her going up into the mountains for +a rest, but--" + +"It's much too hot in town for her, I fancy." + +"How's that?" querulously. "But I've just heard that that scoundrel +Havens is going to the mountains also." + +"The same mountain?" + +"Certainly. I have absolute proof of it. Now, something has to be done!" + +And so it was that the promising young lawyer, Samuel W. Rossiter, Jr., +was sent northward into the Adirondacks one hot summer day with +instructions to be tactful but thorough. He had never seen Mrs. Wharton, +nor had he seen Havens. There was no time to look up these rather +important details, for he was off to intercept her at the little station +from which one drove by coach to the quiet summer hotel among the clouds. +She was starting the same afternoon. He found himself wondering whether +this petted butterfly of fashion had ever seen him, and, seeing him, had +been sufficiently interested to inquire, "Who is that tall fellow with the +light hair?" It would be difficult to perform the duties assigned to him +if either she or Havens knew him for what he was. His pride would have +been deeply wounded if he had known that Grover & Dickhut recommended him +to Wharton as "obscure." + +"They say she is a howling beauty as well as a swell," reflected +Rossiter, as the miles and minutes went swinging by. "And that's something +to be thankful for. One likes novelty, especially if it's feminine. Well, +I'm out for the sole purpose of saving a million or so for old Wharton, +and to save as much of her reputation as I can besides. With the proof in +hand the old duffer can scare her out of any claim against his bank +account, and she shall have the absolute promise of 'no exposure' in +return. Isn't it lovely? Well, here's Albany. Now for the dinky road up to +Fossingford Station. I have an hour's wait here. She's coming on the +afternoon train and gets to Fossingford at eleven-ten to-night. That's a +dickens of a time for a young woman to be arriving anywhere, to say +nothing of Fossingford." + +Loafing about the depot at Albany, Rossiter kept a close lookout for Mrs. +Wharton as he pictured her from the description he carried in his mind's +eye. Her venerable husband informed him that she was sure to wear a white +shirt-waist, a gray skirt, and a Knox sailor hat, because her maid had +told him so in a huff. But he was to identify her chiefly by means of a +handsome and oddly trimmed parasol of deep purple. Wharton had every +reason to suspect that it was a present from Havens, and therefore to be +carried more for sentiment than protection. + +A telegram awaited him at Fossingford Station. Fossingford was so small +and unsophisticated that the arrival of a telegraphic message that did not +relate to the movement of railroad trains was an "occasion." Everybody in +town knew that a message had come for Samuel Rossiter, and everybody was +at the depot to see that he got it. The station agent had inquired at the +"eating-house" for the gentleman, and that was enough. With the eyes of a +Fossingford score or two upon him, Rossiter read the despatch from Grover +& Dickhut. + +"Too bad, ain't it?" asked the agent, compassionately regarding the +newcomer. Evidently the contents were supposed to be disappointing. + +"Oh, I don't know," replied Rossiter easily. But just the same he was +troubled in mind as he walked over and sat down upon his steamer trunk in +the shade of the building. The telegram read: + +"She left New York five-thirty this evening. Stops over night Albany. +Fossingford to-morrow morning. Watch trains. Purple parasol. Sailor hat. +Gray travelling suit. + +"G. and D." + +It meant that he would be obliged to stay in Fossingford all night--but +where? A general but comprehensive glance did not reveal anything that +looked like a hotel. He thought of going back to Albany for the night, but +it suddenly occurred to him that she might not stop in that city, after +all. Pulling his wits together, he saw things with a new clearness of +vision. Ostensibly she had announced her intention to spend the month at +Eagle Nest, an obscure but delightful hotel in the hills; but did that +really mean that she would go there? It was doubtless a ruse to throw the +husband off the track. There were scores of places in the mountains, and +it was more than probable that she would give Eagle Nest a wide berth. +Rossiter patted his bump of perceptiveness and smiled serenely until he +came plump up against the realization that she might not come by way of +Fossingford at all, or, in any event, she might go whisking through to +some station farther north. His speculations came to an end in the shape +of a distressing resolution. He would remain in Fossingford and watch the +trains go by! + +After he had dashed through several early evening trains, the cheerful, +philosophical smile of courage left his face and trouble stared from his +eyes. He saw awkward prospects ahead. Suppose she were to pass through on +one of the late night trains! He could not rush through the sleepers, even +though the trains stopped in Fossingford for water. + +Besides, she could not be identified by means of a gray suit, a sailor +hat, and a purple parasol if they were tucked away in the berth. At eleven +o'clock he was pacing the little depot platform, waiting for the eleven- +ten train, the last he was to inspect for the night. He had eaten a scanty +meal at the restaurant nearby, and was still mad about it. The station +agent slept soundly at his post, and all the rest of the town had gone to +bed. + +The train pulled in and out again, leaving him at the far end of the +platform, mopping his harassed brow. He had visited the chair-cars and had +seen no one answering the description. A half-dozen passengers huddled off +and wandered away in the darkness. + +"I'll bet my head she's in one of those sleepers," he groaned, as he +watched the lights on the rear coach fade away into the night. "It's all +off till to-morrow, that's settled. My only hope is that she really +stopped in Albany. There's a train through here at three in the morning; +but I'm not detective enough to unravel the mystery of any woman's berth. +Now, where the deuce am _I_ to sleep?" + +As he looked about dismally, disconsolately, his hands deep in his +pockets, his straw hat pulled low over his sleepy eyes, the station agent +came up to him with a knowing grin on his face. + +"'Scuse me, boss, but she's come," he said, winking. + +"She? Who?" + +"Her. The young lady. Sure! She's lookin' fer you over in the +waitin'-room. You mus' 'a' missed her when she got off--thought she +wasn't comin' up till to-morrer. Mus' 'a' changed her mind. That's +a woming all over, ain't it?" + +Rossiter felt himself turn hot and cold. His head began to whirl and his +courage went fluttering away. Here was a queer complication. The quarry +hunting for the sleuth, instead of the reverse. He fanned himself with his +hat for one brief, uncertain moment, dazed beyond belief. Then he +resolutely strode over to face the situation, trusting to luck to keep him +from blundering his game into her hands. Just as he was about to put his +foot upon the lamp-lit door-sill the solution struck him like a blow. She +was expecting Havens to meet her! + +There was but one woman in the room, and she was approaching the door +with evident impatience as he entered. Both stopped short, she with a look +of surprise, which changed to annoyance and then crept into an nervous, +apologetic little smile; he with an unsuppressed ejaculation. She wore a +gray skirt, a white waist, and a sailor hat, and she was surpassingly good +to look at even in the trying light from the overhead lamp. Instinctively +his eye swept over her. She carried on her arm the light gray jacket, and +in one hand was the tightly rolled parasol of--he impertinently craned his +neck to see--of purple! Mr. Rossiter was face to face with the woman he +was to dog for a month, and he was flabbergasted. Even as he stopped, +puzzled, before her, contemplating retreat, she spoke to him. + +"Did that man send you to me?" she asked nervously, looking through the +door beyond and then through a window at his right, quite puzzled, he +could see. + +"He did, and I was sure he was mistaken. I knew of no one in this +God-forsaken place who could be asking for me," said he, collecting his +wits carefully and herding them into that one sentence. "But perhaps I +can help you. Will you tell me whom I am to look for?" + +"It is strange he is not here," she said a little breathlessly. "I wired +him just what train to expect me on." + +"Your husband?" ventured he admirably. + +"Oh, dear, no!" said she quickly. + +"I wish she'd wired me what train to expect her on," thought he grimly. +"She doesn't know me. That's good. She was expecting Havens and he's +missed connections somehow," shot rapidly through his brain. At the same +time he was thinking of her as the prettiest woman he had seen in all his +life. Then aloud: "I'll look on the platform. Maybe he's lost in this +great city. What name shall I call out?" + +"Please don't call very loudly. You'll wake the dead," she said, with a +pathetic smile. "It's awfully good of you. He may come at any minute, you +know. His name is--is"--she hesitated for a second, and then went on +determinedly--"Dudley. Tall, dark man. I don't know how I shall thank you. +It's so very awkward." + +Rossiter darted from her glorious but perplexed presence. He had never +seen Havens, but he was sure he could recognize an actor if he saw him in +Fossingford. And he would call him Dudley, too. It would be wise. The +search was fruitless. The only tall, dark object he saw was the mailcrane +at the edge of the platform, but he facetiously asked if its name was +Dudley. Receiving no answer, he turned back to cast additional woe into +the heart of the pretty intriguer. She was standing in the door, despair +in her eyes. Somehow he was pleased because he had not found the wretch. +She was so fair to look upon and so appealing in her distress. + +"You couldn't find him? What am I to do? Oh, isn't it awful? He promised +to be here." + +"Perhaps he's at a hotel." + +"In Fossingford?" in deep disgust. "There's no hotel here. He was to +drive me to the home of a friend out in the country." Rossiter leaned +against the wall suddenly. There was a long silence. He could not find his +tongue, but his eyes were burning deep into the plaintive blue ones that +looked up into his face. + +"I'll ask the agent," he said at last. + +"Ask him what?" she cried anxiously. + +"If he's been here. No, I'll ask if there's a place where you can sleep +to-night. Mr. Dudley will surely turn up to-morrow." + +"But I couldn't sleep a wink. I feel like crying my eyes out," she wailed. + +"Don't do that!" exclaimed he, in alarm. "I'll take another look outside." + +"Please don't. He is not here. Will you please tell me what I am to do?"-- +very much as if it was his business to provide for her in the hour of need. + +Rossiter promptly awoke the agent and asked him where a room could be +procured for the lady. Doxie's boarding-house was the only place, +according to the agent, and it was full to overflowing. Besides, they +would not "take in" strange women. + +"She can sleep here in the waiting-room," suggested the agent. "They'll +let you sleep in the parlor over at Doxie's, mister--maybe." + +Rossiter did not have the heart to tell her all that the agent said. He +merely announced that there was no hotel except the depot waiting-room. + +"By the way, does Mr. Dudley live out in the country?" he asked +insidiously. She flushed and then looked at him narrowly. + +"No. He's visiting his uncle up here." + +"Funny he missed you." + +"It's terribly annoying," she said coldly. Then she walked away from him +as if suddenly conscious that she should not be conversing with a +good-looking stranger at such a time and place and under such peculiar +circumstances. He withdrew to the platform and his own reflections. + +"He's an infernal cad for not meeting her," he found himself saying, her +pretty, distressed face still before him. "I don't care a rap whether +she's doing right or wrong--she's game. Still, she's a blamed little fool +to be travelling up here on such an outlandish train. So he's visiting an +uncle, eh? Then the chances are they're not going to Eagle Nest. Lucky I +waited here--I'd have lost them entirely if I'd gone back to Albany. But +where the deuce is she to sleep till morn--" He heard rapid footsteps +behind him and turned to distinguish Mrs. Wharton as she approached dimly +but gracefully. The air seemed full of her. + +"Oh, Mr.--Mr.--" she was saying eagerly. + +"Rollins." + +"Isn't there a later train, Mr. Rollins?" + +"I'll ask the agent." + +"There's the flyer at three-thirty A. M.," responded the sleepy agent a +minute later. + +"I'll just sit up and wait for it," she said coolly. "He has got the +trains confused." + +"Good heavens! Till three-thirty?" + +"But my dear Mr. Rollins, you won't be obliged to sit up, you know. +You're not expecting any one, are you?" + +"N-no, of course not." + +"By the way, why _are_ you staying up?" He was sure he detected +alarm in the question. She was suspecting him! + +"I have nowhere to go, Miss--Mrs.--er--" She merely smiled and he said +something under his breath. "I'm waiting for the eight o'clock train." + +"How lovely! What time will the three-thirty train get here, agent?" + +"At half-past three, I reckon. But she don't stop here!" + +"Oh, goodness! Can't you flag it--her, I mean?" + +"What's the use?" asked Rossiter. "He's not coming on it, is he?" + +"That's so. He's coming in a buggy. You needn't mind flagging her, agent." + +"Well, say, I'd like to lock up the place," grumbled the agent. "There's +no more trains to-night but Number Seventeen, and she don't even whistle +here. I can't set up here all night." + +"Oh, you wouldn't lock me out in the night, would you?" she cried in such +pretty despair that he faltered. + +"I got to git home to my wife. She's--" + +"That's all right, agent," broke in Rossiter hastily. "I'll take your +place as agent. Leave the doors open and I'll go on watch. I have to stay +up anyway." + +There was a long silence. He did not know whether she was freezing or +warming toward him, because he dared not look into her eyes. + +"I don't know who you are," she said distinctly but plaintively. It was +very dark out there on the platform and the night air was growing cold. + +"It is the misfortune of obscurity," he said mockingly. "I am a most +humble wayfarer on his way to the high hills. If it will make you feel any +more comfortable, madam, I will say that I don't know who you are. So, you +see, we are in the same boat. You are waiting for a man and I am waiting +for daylight. I sincerely trust you may not have as long to wait as I. +Believe me, I regard myself as a gentleman. You are quite as safe with me +as you will be with the agent, or with Mr.--Mr. Dudley, for that matter." + +"You may go home to your wife, Mr. Agent," she said promptly. "Mr. +Rollins will let the trains through, I'm sure." + +The agent stalked away in the night and the diminutive station was left +to the mercy of the wayfarers. + +"And now, Mr. Rollins, you may go over in that corner and stretch out on +the bench. It will be springless, I know, but I fancy you can sleep. I +will call you for the--for breakfast." + +"I'm hanged if you do. On the contrary, I'm going to do my best to fix a +comfortable place for you to take a nap. I'll call you when Mr. Dudley +comes." + +"It's most provoking of him," she said, as he began rummaging through his +steamer trunk. "What are you doing?" + +"Hunting out something to make over into a mattress. You don't mind +napping on my clothes, do you? Here's a soft suit of flannels, a heavy +suit of cheviot, a dress suit, a spring coat, and a raincoat. I can rig up +a downy couch in no time if--" + +"Ridiculous! Do you imagine that I'm going to sleep on your best clothes? +I'm going to sit up." + +"You'll have to do as I say, madam, or be turned out of the hotel," said +he, with an infectious grin. + +"But I insist upon your lying down. You have no reason for doing this for +me. Besides, I'm going to sit up. Good-night!" + +"You are tired and ready to cry," he said, calmly going on with his +preparations. She stood off defiantly and watched him pile his best +clothes into a rather comfortable-looking heap on one of the long benches. +"Now, if you don't mind, I'll make a pillow of these negligée shirts. +They're soft, you know." + +"Stop! I refuse to accept your--" she was protesting. + +"Do you want me to leave you here all alone?" he demanded. "With the +country full of tramps and--" + +"Don't! It's cowardly of you to frighten me. They say the railroads are +swarming with tramps, too. Won't you please go and see if Mr. Dudley is +anywhere in sight?" + +"It was mean of me, I confess. Please lie down. It's getting cold. Pull +this raincoat over yourself. I'll walk out and--" + +"Oh, but you are a determined person. And very foolish, too. Why should +you lose a lot of sleep just for me when--?" + +"There is no reason why two men should fail you to-night, Mrs.--Miss--" + +"Miss Dering," she said, humbled. + +"When you choose to retire, Miss Dering, you will find your room quite +ready," he said with fine gallantry, bowing low as he stood in the +doorway. "I will be just outside on the platform, so don't be uneasy." + +He quickly faded into the night, leaving her standing there, petulant, +furious, yet with admiration in her eyes. Ten minutes later he heard her +call. She was sitting on the edge of the improvised couch, smiling +sweetly, even timidly. + +"It must be cold out there. You must wear this." + +She came toward him, the raincoat in one hand, the purple parasol in the +other. He took the parasol only and departed without a word. She gasped +and would have called after him, but there was no use. With a perplexed +frown and smile she went slowly, dubiously toward the folded bed. + +Rossiter smoked three cigars and walked two miles up and down the +platform, swinging the parasol absent-mindedly, before he ventured to look +inside the room again. In that time he had asked and answered many +questions in his mind. He saw that it would be necessary to change his +plans if he was to watch her successfully. She evidently gave out Eagle +Nest to blind her husband. Somehow he was forgetting that the task before +him was disagreeable and undignified. What troubled him most was how to +follow them if Havens--or Dudley--put in an appearance for the +three-thirty train. He began to curse Everett Havens softly but potently. + +When he looked into the waiting-room she was sound asleep on the bench. +It delighted him to see that she had taken him at his word and was lying +upon his clothes. Cautiously he took a seat on the door-sill. The night +was as still as death and as lonesome as the grave. For half an hour he +sat gazing upon the tired, pretty face and the lithe young figure of the +sleeper. He found himself dreaming, although he was wide awake--never more +so. It occurred to him that he would be immensely pleased to hear that +Havens's reason for failing her was due to an accident in which he had +been killed. + +"Those clothes will have to be pressed the first thing to-morrow," he +said to himself, but without a trace of annoyance. "Hang it all, she +doesn't look like that sort of woman," his mind switched. "But just think +of being tied up to an old crocodile like Wharton! Gee! One oughtn't to +blame her!" + +Then he went forth into the night once more and listened for the sound of +buggy wheels. It was almost time for the arrival of the belated man from +the country, and he was beginning to pray that he would not appear at all. +It came to his mind that he should advise her to return to New York in the +morning. At last his watch told him that the train was due to pass in five +minutes. And still no buggy! Good! He felt an exhilaration that threatened +to break into song. + +Softly he stole back into the waiting-room, prepared to awaken her before +the train shot by. Something told him that the rumble and roar would +terrify her if she were asleep. Going quite close to her he bent forward +and looked long and sadly upon the perfect face. Her hair was somewhat +disarranged, her hat had a very hopeless tilt, her lashes swept low over +the smooth cheek, but there was an almost imperceptible choke in her +breathing. In her small white hand she clasped a handkerchief tightly, and +--yes, he was sure of it--there were tear-stains beneath her lashes. There +came to him the faint sob which lingers long in the breath of one who has +cried herself to sleep. The spy passed his hand over his brow, sighed, +shook his head and turned away irresolutely. He remembered that she was +waiting for a man who was not her husband. + +Far down the track a bright star came shooting toward Fossingford. He +knew it to be the headlight of the flyer. With a breath of relief he saw +that he was the only human being on the platform. Havens had failed again. +This time he approached the recumbent one determinedly. She was awake the +instant he touched her shoulder. + +"Oh," she murmured, sitting erect and looking about, bewildered. "Is +it--has he--oh, you are still here? Has he come?" + +"No, Miss Dering, he is not here," and added, under his breath, "damn +him!" Then aloud, "The train is coming." + +"And he didn't come?" she almost wailed. + +"I fancy you'd better try to sleep until morning. There's nothing to stay +awake for," although it came with a pang. + +"Absolutely nothing," she murmured, and his pride took a respectful tumble. + +As she began to rearrange her hair, rather clumsily spoiling a charming +effect, he remonstrated. + +"Don't bother about your hair." She looked at him in wonder for an +instant, a little smile finally creeping to her lips. He felt that she +understood something. "Maybe he'll come after all," he added quickly. + +"What are you doing with my parasol?" she asked sleepily. + +"I'm carrying it to establish your identity with Dudley if he happens to +come. He'll recognize the purple parasol, you know." + +"Oh, I see," she said dubiously. "He gave it to me for a birthday present." + +"I knew it," he muttered. + +"What?" + +"I mean I knew he'd recognize it," he explained. + +The flyer shot through Fossingford at that juncture, a long line of +roaring shadows. There was silence between them until the rumble was lost +in the distance. + +"If you don't mind, I'd like to go out on the platform for awhile," she +said finally, resignation in her eyes. "Perhaps he's out there, wondering +why the train didn't stop." + +"It's cold out there. Just slip into my coat, Miss Dering." He held the +raincoat for her, and she mechanically slipped her arms into the sleeves. +She shivered, but smiled sweetly up at him. + +"Thank you, Mr. Rollins, you are very thoughtful and very kind to me." + +They walked out into the darkness. After a turn or two in silence she +took the arm he proffered. He admired the bravery with which she was +trying to convince him that she was not so bitterly disappointed. When she +finally spoke her voice was soft and cool, just as a woman's always is +before the break. + +"He was to have taken me to his uncle's house, six miles up in the +country. His aunt and a young lady from the South, with Mr. Dudley and me, +are to go to Eagle Nest to-morrow for a month." + +"How very odd," he said with well-assumed surprise. "I, too, am going to +Eagle Nest for a month or so." + +She stopped stock-still, and he could feel that she was staring at him +hardly. + +"You are going there?" she half whispered. + +"They say it is a quiet, restful place," he said. "One reaches it by +stage over-land, I believe." She was strangely silent during the remainder +of the walk. Somehow he felt amazingly sorry for her. "I hope I may see +something of you while we are there," he said at last. + +"I imagine I couldn't help it if I were to try," she said. They were in +the path of the light from the window, and he saw the strange little smile +on her face. "I think I'll lie down again. Won't you find a place to +sleep, Mr. Rollins? I can't bear the thought of depriving you--" + +"I am the slave of your darkness," he said gravely. + +She left him, and he lit another cigar. Daylight came at last to break up +his thoughts, and then his tired eyes began to look for the man and buggy. +Fatigued and weary, he sat upon his steamer trunk, his back to the wall. +There he fell sound asleep. + +He was awakened by some one shaking him gently by the shoulder. + +"You are a very sound sleeper, Mr. Rollins," said a familiar voice, but +it was gay and sprightly. He looked up blankly, and it was a full +half-minute before he could get his bearings. + +A young woman with a purple parasol stood beside him, laughing merrily, +and at her side was a tall, dark, very good-looking young man. + +"I couldn't go without saying good-by to you, Mr. Rollins, and thanking +you again for the care you have taken of me," she was saying. He finally +saw the little gloved hand that was extended toward him. Her companion was +carrying her jacket and the little travelling-bag. + +"Oh--er--good-by, and don't mention it," he stammered, struggling to his +feet. "Was I asleep?" + +"Asleep at your post, sir. Mr. Dudley--oh, this is Mr. Dudley, Mr. +Rollins--came in ten minutes ago and found--us--both--asleep." + +"Isn't it lucky Mr. Dudley happens to be an honest man?" said Rossiter, +in a manner so strange that the smile froze on the face of the other man. +The unhappy barrister caught the quick glance that passed between them, +and was vaguely convinced that they had been discussing him while he +slept. Something whispered to him that they had guessed the nature of his +business. + +"My telegram was not delivered to him until this morning. Wasn't it +provoking?" she was saying. + +"What time is it now?" asked Rossiter. + +"Half-past seven," responded Dudley rather sharply. His black eyes were +fastened steadily upon those of the questioner. "Mr. Van Haltford's man +came in and got Miss Dering's telegram yesterday, but it was not delivered +to me until a neighbor came to the house with both the message and +messenger in charge. Joseph had drunk all the whisky in Fossingford. + +"Then there's no chance for me to get a drink, I suppose," said Rossiter +with a wry smile. + +"Do you need one?" asked Miss Dering saucily. + +"I have a headache." + +"A pick-me-up is what you want," said Dudley coldly. + +"My dear sir, I haven't been drunk," remonstrated Rossiter sharply. His +hearers laughed and he turned red but cold with resentment. + +"See, Mr. Rollins, I have smoothed out your clothes and folded them," she +said, pointing to her one-time couch. "I couldn't pack them in your trunk +because you were sitting on it. Shall I help you now?" + +"No, I thank you," he said ungraciously. "I can toss 'em in any old way." + +He set about doing it without another word. His companions stood over +near the window and conversed earnestly in words too low for him to +distinguish. From the corner of his eye he could see that Dudley's face +was hard and uncompromising, while hers was eager and imploring. The man +was stubbornly objecting to something, and she was just as decided in an +opposite direction. + +"He's finding fault and she's trying to square it with him. Oh, my +beauties, you'll have a hard time to shake off one Samuel Rossiter. +They're suspicious--or he is, at least. Some one has tipped me off to +them, I fancy." + +"I'm sorry they are so badly mussed, Mr. Rollins, but they did make a +very comfortable bed," she said, walking over to him. Her cheeks were +flushed and her eyes were gleaming. "You are going to Eagle Nest to-day?" + +"Just as soon as I can get a conveyance. There is a stage-coach at nine, +Miss Dering." + +"We will have room for you on our break," she said simply. Her eyes met +his bravely and then wavered. Rossiter's heart gave a mighty leap. + +"Permit me to second Miss Dering's invitation," said Dudley, coming over. +The suggestion of a frown on his face made Rossiter only too eager to +accept the unexpected invitation. "My aunt and Miss Crozier are outside +with the coachman. You can have your luggage sent over in the stage. It is +fourteen miles by road, so we should be under way, Mr. Rollins." + +As Rossiter followed them across the platform he was saying to himself: + +"Well, the game's on. Here's where I begin to earn my salary. I'll hang +out my sign when I get back to New York: 'Police Spying. Satisfaction +guaranteed. References given.' Hang it all, I hate to do this to her. +She's an awfully good sort, and--and--But I don't like this damned Havens!" + +Almost before he knew it he was being presented to two handsome, +fashionably dressed young women who sat together in the rear seat of the +big mountain break. + +"Every cloud has its silver lining," Miss Dering was saying. "Let me +present you to Mr. Dudley's aunt, Mrs. Van Haltford, and to Miss Crozier, +Mr. Rollins." + +In a perfect maze of emotions, he found himself bowing before the two +ladies, who smiled distantly and uncertainly. Dudley's aunt? That dashing +young creature his aunt? Rossiter was staggered by the boldness of the +claim. He could scarce restrain the scornful, brutal laugh of derision at +this ridiculous play upon his credulity. To his secret satisfaction he +discovered that the entire party seemed nervous and ill at ease. There was +a trace of confusion in their behavior. He heard Miss Dering explain that +he was to accompany the party and he saw the poorly concealed look of +disapproval and polite inquiry that went between the two ladies and +Dudley. There was nothing for it, however, now that Miss Dering had +committed herself, and he was advised to look to his luggage without delay. + +He hurried into the station to arrange for the transportation of his +trunk by stage, all the while smiling maliciously in his sleeve. Looking +surreptitiously from a window he saw the quartet, all of them now on the +break, arguing earnestly over--him, he was sure. Miss Dering was +plaintively facing the displeasure of the trio. The coachman's averted +face wore a half-grin. The discussion ended abruptly as Rossiter +reappeared, but there was a coldness in the air that did not fail to +impress him as portentous. + +"I'm the elephant on their hands--the proverbial hot coal," he thought +wickedly. "Well, they've got to bear it even if they can't grin." Then +aloud cheerily: "All aboard! We're off!" He took his seat beside the +driver. The events of the ensuing week are best chronicled by the +reproduction of Rossiter's own diary or report, with liberties in the +shape of an author's comments. + + +THURSDAY. + + +"Settled comfortably in Eagle Nest House. Devilish rugged and +out-of-the-way place. Mrs. Van Haltford is called Aunt Josephine. She and +Miss Debby Crozier have rooms on the third floor. Mine is next to theirs, +Havens's is next to mine, and Mrs. Wharton has two rooms beyond his. We +are not unlike a big family party. They're rather nice to me. I go +walking with Aunt Josephine. I don't understand why I'm sandwiched in +between Havens and Aunt Josephine. Otherwise the arrangement is neat. +There is a veranda outside our windows. We sit upon it. Aunt Josephine +is a great bluff, but she's clever. She's never napping. I've tried to +pump her. Miss Crozier is harmless. She doesn't care. Havens never takes +his eyes off Mrs. W. when they are together. She looks at him a good bit, +too. They don't pay much attention to me. Aunt Josephine's husband is +very old and very busy. He can't take vacations. Everybody went to bed +early to-night. No evidence to-day." + + +FRIDAY NIGHT. + + +"Havens and Mrs. W. went hill-climbing this afternoon and were gone for +an hour before I missed them. Then I took Aunt Jo and Debby out for a +quick climb. Confound Aunt Jo! She got tired in ten minutes and Debby +wouldn't go on without her. I think it was a put-up job. The others didn't +return till after six. She asked me if I'd like to walk about the grounds +after dinner. Said I would. We did. Havens went with us. Couldn't shake +him to save my life." + + +SATURDAY NIGHT. + + +"I have to watch myself constantly to keep from calling her Mrs. Wharton. +I believe writing her real name is bad policy. It makes me forget. After +this I shall call her Miss Dering, and I'll speak of him as Dudley. This +morning he asked me to call him 'Jim.' He calls me 'Sam.' Actors do get +familiar. When she came downstairs to go driving with him this morning +I'll swear she was the prettiest thing I ever saw. They took a lunch and +were gone for hours. I'd like to punch his face. She was very quiet all +evening, and I fancied she avoided me. I smelt liquor on his breath just +before bedtime. + +"_One A. M._--I thought everybody had gone to bed, but they are out +there on the veranda talking. Just outside her windows. I distinctly heard +him call her 'dearest.' Something must have alarmed them, for they parted +abruptly. He walked the veranda for an hour, all alone. Plenty of +evidence." + + +SUNDAY NIGHT. + + +"For appearance's sake he took Miss Crozier for a walk to-day. I went to +the chapel down the hill with Miss Dering and Aunt Josephine. Aunt +Josephine put a ten-dollar bill in the box. Thinks she's squaring herself +with the Lord, I suppose. Miss Dering was not at all talkative and gave +every sign of being uncomfortable because he had the audacity to go +walking with another girl. In the afternoon she complained of being ill +and went to her room. Later on she sent for Dudley and Mrs. Van Haltford. +They were in her room all afternoon. I smoked on the terrace with Debby. +She is the most uninteresting girl I ever met. But she's on to their game. +I know it because she forgot herself once, when I mentioned Miss Dering's +illness, and said: 'Poor girl! She is in a most trying position. Don't you +think Mr. Dudley is a splendid fellow?' I said that he was very good- +looking, and she seemed to realize she had said something she ought not to +have said and shut up. I'm sorry she's sick, though. I miss that parasol +dreadfully. She always has it, and I can see her a mile away. Usually he +carries it, though. Well, I suppose he has a right--as original owner. Jim +and I smoked together this evening, but he evidently smells a mouse. He +did not talk much, and I caught him eying me strangely several times." + + +MONDAY NIGHT. + + +"Dudley has departed. I believe they are on to me. He went to Boston this +afternoon, and he actually was gruff with me just before leaving. The size +of the matter is, some one has posted him, and they are all up to my game +as a spy. I wish I were out of it. Never was so ashamed of a thing in my +life; don't feel like looking any one in the face. They've all been nice +to me. But what's the difference? They're all interested. She went to the +train with him and--the rest of us. I'll never forget how sad she looked +as she held his hand and bade him good-by. I carried the parasol back to +the hotel, and I know I hurt her feelings when I maliciously said that it +would look well with a deep black border. She almost looked a hole through +me. Fine eyes. I don't know what is coming next. She is liable to slip out +from under my eye at any time and fly away to meet him somewhere else. I +telegraphed this message to Grover & Dickhut: + +"He has gone. She still here. What shall I do? + +"Got this answer: + +"Stay there and watch. They suspect you. Don't let her get away. + +"But how the devil am I to watch day and night?" + +The next week was rather an uneventful one for Rossiter. There was no +sign of Havens and no effort on her part to leave Eagle Nest. + +As the days went by he became more and more vigilant. In fact, his watch +was incessant and very much of a personal one. He walked and drove with +her, and he invented all sorts of excuses to avoid Mrs. Van Haltford and +Miss Crozier. The purple parasol and he had become almost inseparable +friends. The fear that Havens might return at any time kept him in a fever +of anxiety and dread. Now that he was beginning to know her for himself he +could not endure the thought that she cared for another man. Strange to +say, he did not think of her husband. Old Wharton had completely faded +from his mind; it was Havens that he envied. He saw himself sinking into +her net, falling before her wiles, but he did not rebel. + +He went to bed each night apprehensive that the next morning should find +him alone and desolate at Eagle Nest, the bird flown. It hurt him to think +that she would laugh over her feat of outwitting him. He was not guarding +her for old Wharton now; he was in his own employ. All this time he knew +it was wrong, and that she was trifling with him while the other was away. +Yet he had eyes, ears, and a heart like all men, and they were for none +save the pretty wife of Godfrey Wharton. + +He spoke to her on several occasions of Dudley and gnashed his teeth when +he saw a look of sadness, even longing, come into her dark eyes. At such +times he was tempted to tell her that he knew all, to confound her by +charging her with guilt. But he could not collect the courage. For some +unaccountable reason he held his bitter tongue. And so it was that +handsome Sam Rossiter, spy and good fellow, fell in love with a woman who +had a very dark page in her history. + +She received mail, of course, daily, but he was not sneak enough to pry +into its secrets, even had the chance presented itself. Sometimes she +tossed the letters away carelessly, but he observed that there were some +which she guarded jealously. + +Once he heard her tell Aunt Josephine that she had a letter from "Jim." +He began to discover that "Jim" was a forbidden subject and that he was +not discussed; at least, not in his presence. Many times he saw the two +women in earnest, rather cautious conversation, and instinctively felt +that Havens was the subject. Mrs. Wharton appeared piqued and discontented +after these little talks. He made this entry in his diary one night, a +week after Havens went away: + +"I almost wish he'd come back and end the suspense. This thing is wearing +on me. I was weighed to-day and I've lost ten pounds. Mrs. Van Haltford +says I look hungry and advises me to try salt-water air. I'm hanged if I +don't give up the job this week. I don't like it, anyhow. It doesn't seem +square to be down here enjoying her society, taking her walking and all +that, and all the time hunting up something with which to ruin her +forever. I'll stick the week out, but I'm not decided whether I'll produce +any evidence against her if the Wharton _vs._ Wharton case ever does +come to trial. I don't believe I could. I don't want to be a sneak." + +One day Rossiter and the purple parasol escorted the pretty trifler over +the valley to Bald Top, half a mile from the hotel. Mrs. Van Haltford and +Miss Crozier were to join them later and were to bring with them Colonel +Deming and Mr. Vincent, two friends who had lately arrived. The hotel was +rapidly filling with fashionable guests, and Mrs. Wharton had petulantly +observed, a day or two before, that the place was getting crowded and she +believed she would go away soon. On the way over she said to him: + +"I have about decided to go down to Velvet Springs for the rest of the +month. Don't you think it is getting rather crowded here?" + +"I have been pretty well satisfied," he replied, in an injured tone. "I +don't see why you should want to leave here." + +"Why should I stay if I am tired of the place?" she asked demurely, +casting a roguish glance at his sombre face. He clenched the parasol and +grated his teeth. + +"She's leading me on, confound her!" he thought. At the same time his +head whirled and his heart beat a little faster. "You shouldn't," he said, +"if you are tired. There's more of an attraction at Velvet Springs, I +suppose." + +"Have you been there?" + +"No." + +"You answered rather snappishly. Have you a headache?" + +"Pardon me; I didn't intend to answer snappishly, as you call it. I only +wanted to be brief." + +"Why?" + +"Because I wanted to change the subject." + +"Shall we talk of the weather?" + +"I suppose we may as well," he said resignedly. She was plainly laughing +at him now. "Look here," he said, stopping and looking into her eyes +intently and somewhat fiercely, "why do you want to go to Velvet Springs?" + +"Why should you care where I go?" she answered blithely, although her +eyes wavered. + +"It's because you are unhappy here and because some one else is there. +I'm not blind, Mrs.--Miss Dering." + +"You have no right to talk to me in that manner, Mr. Rollins. Come, we +are to go back to the hotel at once," she said coldly. There was steel in +her eyes. + +He met her contemptuous look for a moment and quailed. + +"I beg your pardon. I am a fool, but you have made me such," he said +baldly. + +"I? I do not understand you," and he could not but admire the clever, +innocent, widespread eyes. + +"You will understand me some day," he said, and to his amazement she +flushed and looked away. They continued their walk, but there was a +strange shyness in her manner that puzzled him. + +"When is Dudley expected back here?" he asked abruptly. + +She started sharply and gave him a quick, searching look. There was a +guilty expression in her eyes, and he muttered something ugly under his +breath. + +"I do not know, Mr. Rollins," she answered. + +"When did you hear from him last?" he demanded half savagely. + +"I do not intend to be catechized by you, sir," she exclaimed, halting +abruptly. "We shall go back. You are very ugly to-day and I am surprised." + +"I supposed you had letters from him every day," he went on ruthlessly. +She gave him a look in which he saw pain and the shadow of tears, and then +she turned and walked swiftly toward the hotel. His conscience smote him +and he turned after her. For the next ten minutes he was on his knees, +figuratively, pleading for forgiveness. At last she paused and smiled +sweetly into his face. Then she calmly turned and resumed the journey to +Bald Top, saying demurely: + +"We have nearly a quarter of a mile to retrace, all because you were so +hateful." + +"And you so obdurate," he added blissfully. He had tried to be severe and +angry with her and had failed. + +That very night the expected came to pass. Havens appeared on the scene, +the same handsome, tragic-looking fellow, a trifle care-worn perhaps, but +still--an evil genius. Rossiter ran plump into him in the hallway and was +speechless for a moment. He unconsciously shook hands with the new +arrival, but his ears were ringing so with the thuds of his heart that he +heard but few of the brisk words addressed to him. After the eager actor +had left him standing humbly in the hall he managed to recall part of what +had been said. He had come up on the express from Boston and could stay +but a day or two. Did Mr. Rossiter know whether Miss Dering was in her +room? The barrister also distinctly remembered that he did not ask for his +aunt, which would have been the perfectly natural query. + +Half an hour later Havens was strolling about the grounds, under the lamp +lights, in and out of dark nooks, and close beside him was a slim figure +in white. Their conversation was earnest, their manner secretive; that +much the harassed Rossiter could see from the balcony. His heart grew sore +and he could almost feel the tears of disappointment surging to his eyes. +A glance in his mirror had shown him a face haggard and drawn, eyes +strange and bright. He had not slept well, he knew; he had worn himself +out in this despicable watch; he had grown to care for the creature he had +been hired to spy upon. No wonder he was haggard. + +Now he was jealous--madly, fiendishly jealous. In his heart there was the +savage desire to kill the other man and to denounce the woman. Pacing the +grounds about the hotel, he soon worked himself into a fever, devilish in +its hotness. More than once he passed them, and it was all he could do to +refrain from springing upon them. At length he did what most men do: he +took a drink. Whisky flew down his throat and to his brain. In his mind's +eye he saw her in the other's arms--and he could bear it no longer! +Rushing to his room, he threw himself on the bed and cursed. + +"Good heaven! I love her! I love her better than all the world! I can't +stay here and see any more of it! By thunder, I'll go back to New York and +they can go to the devil! So can old Wharton! And so can Grover & Dickhut!" + +He leaped to his feet, dashed headlong to the telegraph office +downstairs, and ten minutes later this message was flying to Grover & +Dickhut: + +Get some one else for this job. I'm done with it. Coming home.--SAM. + +"I'm coming on the first train, too," muttered the sender, as he hurried +up-stairs. "I can pack my trunk for the night stage. I'd like to say good- +by to her, but I can't--I couldn't stand it. What's the difference? She +won't care whether I go or stay--rather have me go. If I were to meet her +now I'd--yes, by George--kiss her! It's wrong to love her, but--" + +There was nothing dignified about the manner in which big Sam Rossiter +packed his trunk. He fairly stamped the clothing into it and did a lot of +other absurd things. When he finally locked it and yanked out his watch +his brow was wet and he was trembling. It had taken just five minutes to +do the packing. His hat was on the back of his head, his collar was +melting, and his cigar was chewed to a pulp. Cane and umbrella were yanked +from behind the door and he was ready to fly. The umbrella made him think +of a certain parasol, and his heart grew still and cold with the knowledge +that he was never to carry it again. + +"I hope I don't meet any of 'em," he muttered, pulling himself together +and rushing into the hall. A porter had already jerked his trunk down the +stair steps. + +As he hastened after it he heard the swish of skirts and detected in the +air a familiar odor, the subtle scent of a perfume that he could not +forget were he to live a thousand years. The next moment she came swiftly +around a corner in the hall, hurrying to her rooms. They met and both +started in surprise, her eyes falling to his travelling-bag, and then +lifting to his face in bewilderment. He checked his hurried flight and she +came quite close to him. The lights in the hall were dim and the elevator +car had dropped to regions below. + +"Where are you going?" she asked in some agitation. + +"I am going back to New York," he answered, controlling himself with an +effort. She was so beautiful, there in the dim hallway. + +"To-night?" she asked in very low tones. + +"In half an hour." + +"And were you going without saying good-by to--to us?" she went on rapidly. + +He looked steadily down into her solemn eyes for a moment and an +expression of pain, of longing, came into his own. + +"It couldn't make any difference whether I said good-by to you, and it +would have been hard," he replied unsteadily. + +"Hard? I don't understand you," she said. + +"I didn't want to see you. Yes, I hoped to get away before you knew +anything about it. Maybe it was cowardly, but it was the best way," he +cried bitterly. + +"What do you mean?" she cried, and he detected alarm, confusion, guilt in +her manner. + +"You know what I mean. I know everything--I knew it before I came here, +before I saw you. It's why I am here, I'm ashamed to say. But, have no +fear--have no fear! I've given up the job--the nasty job--and you can do +as you please. The only trouble is that I have been caught in the web; +I've been trapped myself. You've made me care for you. That's why I'm +giving it all up. Don't look so frightened--I'll promise to keep your +secret." + +Her eyes were wide, her lips parted, but no words came; she seemed to +shrink from him as if he were the headsman and she his victim. + +"I'll do it, right or wrong!" he gasped suddenly. And in an instant his +satchel clattered to the floor and his arms were straining the slight +figure to his breast. Burning lips met hers and sealed them tight. She +shivered violently, struggled for an instant in his mad embrace, but made +no outcry. Gradually her free arm stole upward and around his neck and her +lips responded to the passion in his. His kiss of ecstasy was returned. +The thrill of joy that shot through him was almost overpowering. A dozen +times he kissed her. Unbelieving, he held her from him and looked hungrily +into her eyes. They were wet with tears. + +"Why do you go? I love you!" she whispered faintly. + +Then came the revulsion. With an oath he threw her from him. Her hands +went to her temples and a moan escaped her lips. + +"Bah!" he snarled. "Get away from me! Heaven forgive me for being as weak +as I've been to-night!" + +"Sam!" she wailed piteously. + +"Don't tell me anything! Don't try to explain! Be honest with one man, at +least!" + +"You must be insane!" she cried tremulously. + +"Don't play innocent, madam. I _know_." In abject terror she shrank +away from him. "But I have kissed you! If I live a thousand years I shall +not forget its sweetness." + +He waved his hands frantically above her, grabbed up his suit-case and +traps, and, with one last look at the petrified woman shrinking against +the wall under the blasts of his vituperation, he dashed for the stairway. +And so he left her, a forlorn, crushed figure. + +Blindly he tore downstairs and to the counter. He hardly knew what he was +doing as he drew forth his pocket-book to pay his account. + +"Going away, Mr. Rollins?" inquired the clerk, glancing at the clock. It +was eleven-twenty and the last stage-coach left for Fossingford at +eleven-thirty, in time to catch the seven o'clock down train. + +"Certainly," was the excited answer. + +"A telegram came a few moments ago for you, sir, but I thought you were +in bed," and the other tossed a little envelope out to him. Mechanically +Rossiter tore it open. He was thinking of the cowering woman in the +hallway and he was cursing himself for his brutality. + +He read the despatch with dizzy eyes and drooping jaw, once, twice, +thrice. Then he leaned heavily against the counter and a coldness assailed +his heart, so bitter that he felt his blood freezing. It read: + +What have you been doing? The people you were sent to watch sailed for +Europe ten days ago. + + GROVER & DICKHUT. + +The paper fell from his trembling fingers, but he regained it, natural +instinct inspiring a fear that the clerk would read it. + +"Good Lord!" he gasped. + +"Bad news, Mr. Rollins?" asked the clerk sympathetically, but the +stricken, bewildered man did not answer. + +What did it mean? A vast faintness attacked him as the truth began to +penetrate. Out of the whirling mystery came the astounding, ponderous +realization that he had blundered, that he had wronged her, that he had +accused her of--Oh, that dear, stricken figure in the hallway above! + +He leaped to the staircase. Three steps at a time he flew back to the +scene of the miserable tragedy. What he thought, what he felt as he rushed +into the hallway can only be imagined. She was gone--heartbroken, killed! +And she had kissed him and said she loved him! + +A light shone through the transoms over the doors that led into her +apartments. Quaking with fear, he ran down the hall and beat a violent +tattoo upon her parlor door. Again he rapped, crazed by remorse, fear, +love, pity, shame, and a hundred other emotions. + +"Who is it?" came in stifled tones from within. + +"It is I--Rossiter--I mean Rollins! I must see you--now! For pity's sake, +let me in!" + +"How dare you--" she began shrilly; but he was not to be denied. + +"If you don't open this door I'll kick it in!" he shouted. "I must see +you!" + +After a moment the door flew open and he stood facing her. She was like a +queen. Her figure was as straight as an arrow, her eyes blazing. But there +had been tears in them a moment before. + +"Another insult!" she exclaimed, and the scorn in her voice was +withering. He paused abashed, for the first time realizing that he had +hurt her beyond reparation. His voice faltered and the tears flew to his +eyes. + +"I don't know what to say to you. It has been a mistake--a frightful +mistake--and I don't know whether you'll let me explain. When I got +downstairs I found this telegram and--for heaven's sake, let me tell you +the wretched story. Don't turn away from me! You shall listen to me if I +have to hold you!" His manner changed suddenly to the violent, imperious +forcefulness of a man driven to the last resort. + +"Must I call for help?" she cried, thoroughly alarmed, once more the weak +woman, face to face, as she thought, with an insane man. + +"I love you better than my own life, and I've hurt you terribly. I'm not +crazy, Helen! But I've been a fool, and I'll go crazy if you don't give me +a chance to explain." + +Whether she gave the chance or no he took it, and from his eager, +pleading lips raced the whole story of his connection with the Wharton +affair from first to last. + +He humbled himself, accused himself, ridiculed himself, and wound up by +throwing himself upon her mercy, uttering protestations of the love which +had really been his undoing. + +She heard him through without a word. The light in her eyes changed; the +fear left them and the scorn fled. Instead there grew, by stages, wonder, +incredulity, wavering doubt and--joy. She understood him and she loved +him! The awful horror of that meeting in the hallway was swept away like +unto the transformation scene in the fairy spectacle. + +When he fell upon his knee and sought to clasp her fingers in his cold +hand she smiled, and, stooping over, placed both hands on his cheeks and +kissed him. + +What followed her kiss of forgiveness may be more easily imagined than +told. + +"You see it was perfectly natural for me to mistake you for Mrs. +Wharton," he said after awhile. "You had the gray jacket, the sailor hat, +the purple parasol, and you are beautiful. And, besides all that, you were +found red-handed in that ridiculous town of Fossingford. Why shouldn't I +have suspected you with such a preponderance of evidence against you? +Anybody who would get off of a night train in Fossingford certainly ought +to be ashamed of something." + +"But Fossingford is on the map, isn't it? One has a perfect right to get +off where she likes, hasn't she, provided it is on the map?" + +"Not at all! That's what maps are for: to let you see where you don't get +off." + +"But I was obliged to get off there. My ticket said 'Fossingford,' and, +besides, I was to be met at the station in a most legitimate manner. You +had no right to jump at conclusions." + +"Well, if you had not descended to earth at Fossingford I wouldn't be in +heaven at Eagle Nest. Come to think of it, I believe you did quite the +proper thing in getting off at Fossingford--no matter what the hour." + +"You must remember always that I have not taken you to task for a most +flagrant piece of--shall I say indiscretion?" + +"Good Heavens!" + +"You stopped off at Fossingford for the sole purpose of seeing another +woman." + +"That's all very fine, dear, but you'll admit that Dudley was an +excellent substitute for Havens. Can't you see how easy it was to be +mistaken?" + +"I won't fall into easy submission. Still, I believe I could recommend +you as a detective. They usually do the most unheard of things--just as +you have. Poor Jim Dudley an actor! Mistaken for such a man as you say +Havens is! It is even more ridiculous than that I should be mistaken for +Mrs. Wharton." + +"Say, I'd like to know something about Dudley. It was his confounded +devotion to you that helped matters along in my mind. What is he to you?" + +"He came here to-night to repeat a question that had been answered +unalterably once before. Jim Dudley? Have you never heard of James Dudley, +the man who owns all of those big mines in South America, the man who--" + +"Who owns the yachts and automobiles and--and the railroad trains? Is he +the one? The man with the millions? Good Lord! And you could have had him +instead of me? Helen, I--I don't understand it. Why didn't you take him?" + +She hesitated a moment before answering brightly: + +"Perhaps it is because I have a fancy for the ridiculous." + + +THE END + + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Purple Parasol, by George Barr McCutcheon + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE PURPLE PARASOL *** + +This file should be named prpsl10.txt or prpsl10.zip +Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks get a new NUMBER, prpsl11.txt +VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, prpsl10a.txt + +Produced by Avinash Kothare, Charles Aldarondo +and the On-line Distributed Proofreading Team. + +Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the US +unless a copyright notice is included. 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