My Dear Mr. Camwell—[this was the way it read]—Since you were here yesterday I have given a great deal of thought to the matter of which we spoke. It is a little more serious than I imagined when I answered your advertisement, and I am somewhat in doubt even now what I ought to say. ["When a woman hesitates, she is lost!" came to my mind.] Will you pardon me for being perfectly frank, [Pardon her? I would pardon her anything but a refusal] in relation to a few personal matters? I wish to tell you my exact situation, and then I will leave it to you to decide. [Joy! It was coming.]I am at present employed by a man—excuse me if I do not say gentleman—who pays me what I consider the liberal salary of twenty dollars a week, my services occupying only a portion of the morning hours. For reasons which I need not give in full I find the place very distasteful. In fact, had I been able to afford it, I would have resigned the position long ago. I am, however, entirely dependent upon my exertions for a livelihood, and not only that, there is another who looks to me for a certain amount of help, which I cannot, nor do I wish to withhold. When I read your notice in the Herald it seemed to contain two opportunities that I would be glad to secure. One was to change mysituation, the other to absent myself from the city for a time, where I would escape annoyances which have become almost unbearable.Now, on the other hand, as I told you when here, you are a much younger man that I expected to see. It is a little difficult to believe—you will excuse my frankness—that you wish my companionship from a purely business standpoint; indeed, you admitted that one of your reasons was a disinclination to travel alone. You cannot deny that a trip such as you contemplate, taken in my company, would subject me to unpleasant suspicions from any person we might happen to meet, who has known me before or should discover that the relationship claimed between us is a false one. A girl who has her way to make in this world cannot always listen to Mrs. Grundy, but there are certain precautions which she can hardly be excused from taking. How can I best protect my good name, if I accept your generous offer? That is one of the prime questions you must help me to settle.Again, while, in a friendly journey like the one suggested, the matter of compensation seems almost impertinent, in the present case it cannot be treated as such. Were my circumstances what I could wish them, I would gladly make the journey without thinking of payment; candidly, I do not feel that the services I might render you would justify me ordinarily in accepting money for them. Necessity, it has well been said, knows no law. I have never learned how to live and assist those depending on me without cash, that brutal desirability. You have expressed a willingness to pay a salary in addition to travelling expenses, and I, if I go, shall be compelled to accept it, reluctant though I am to do so.On looking over my wardrobe I find that there are more things required than I supposed when you were here. When you call this afternoon I willmake that matter plainer by exhibiting exactly what I have suitable to the climate to which you are going. I do not wish to influence you in the least, and I beg that if my needs are greater than you desire to supply, you will say so without fear. All of the money I could spare was expended very recently for winter garments, of which I have a supply suitable to a girl in my station. I had no warning that I should be asked to exchange them at this season for others suitable to a tropical clime. If I do so, I know no source from which the cost can come except your purse. There! Could anything be more candid than this straightforward statement?If I see you at my room this afternoon, I shall understand that you appreciate the candor with which I write, and are willing to accede to my requests. If there is a doubt in your mind as to the advisability of doing so, it will be best for us both that you do not come. I shall comprehend and leave the field open to some happier girl, who may be able to accept your generous offer without these disagreeable preliminaries.Yours,M.M.No. — West Forty-fifth Street.
My Dear Mr. Camwell—[this was the way it read]—Since you were here yesterday I have given a great deal of thought to the matter of which we spoke. It is a little more serious than I imagined when I answered your advertisement, and I am somewhat in doubt even now what I ought to say. ["When a woman hesitates, she is lost!" came to my mind.] Will you pardon me for being perfectly frank, [Pardon her? I would pardon her anything but a refusal] in relation to a few personal matters? I wish to tell you my exact situation, and then I will leave it to you to decide. [Joy! It was coming.]
I am at present employed by a man—excuse me if I do not say gentleman—who pays me what I consider the liberal salary of twenty dollars a week, my services occupying only a portion of the morning hours. For reasons which I need not give in full I find the place very distasteful. In fact, had I been able to afford it, I would have resigned the position long ago. I am, however, entirely dependent upon my exertions for a livelihood, and not only that, there is another who looks to me for a certain amount of help, which I cannot, nor do I wish to withhold. When I read your notice in the Herald it seemed to contain two opportunities that I would be glad to secure. One was to change mysituation, the other to absent myself from the city for a time, where I would escape annoyances which have become almost unbearable.
Now, on the other hand, as I told you when here, you are a much younger man that I expected to see. It is a little difficult to believe—you will excuse my frankness—that you wish my companionship from a purely business standpoint; indeed, you admitted that one of your reasons was a disinclination to travel alone. You cannot deny that a trip such as you contemplate, taken in my company, would subject me to unpleasant suspicions from any person we might happen to meet, who has known me before or should discover that the relationship claimed between us is a false one. A girl who has her way to make in this world cannot always listen to Mrs. Grundy, but there are certain precautions which she can hardly be excused from taking. How can I best protect my good name, if I accept your generous offer? That is one of the prime questions you must help me to settle.
Again, while, in a friendly journey like the one suggested, the matter of compensation seems almost impertinent, in the present case it cannot be treated as such. Were my circumstances what I could wish them, I would gladly make the journey without thinking of payment; candidly, I do not feel that the services I might render you would justify me ordinarily in accepting money for them. Necessity, it has well been said, knows no law. I have never learned how to live and assist those depending on me without cash, that brutal desirability. You have expressed a willingness to pay a salary in addition to travelling expenses, and I, if I go, shall be compelled to accept it, reluctant though I am to do so.
On looking over my wardrobe I find that there are more things required than I supposed when you were here. When you call this afternoon I willmake that matter plainer by exhibiting exactly what I have suitable to the climate to which you are going. I do not wish to influence you in the least, and I beg that if my needs are greater than you desire to supply, you will say so without fear. All of the money I could spare was expended very recently for winter garments, of which I have a supply suitable to a girl in my station. I had no warning that I should be asked to exchange them at this season for others suitable to a tropical clime. If I do so, I know no source from which the cost can come except your purse. There! Could anything be more candid than this straightforward statement?
If I see you at my room this afternoon, I shall understand that you appreciate the candor with which I write, and are willing to accede to my requests. If there is a doubt in your mind as to the advisability of doing so, it will be best for us both that you do not come. I shall comprehend and leave the field open to some happier girl, who may be able to accept your generous offer without these disagreeable preliminaries.
Yours,M.M.
No. — West Forty-fifth Street.
I was all impatience till I read the very latest line, fearing there would be some qualification that I could not meet. When I found that it had resolved itself into a question so easily solved I sprang up and shouted in glee.
She would go! She was going! My dream was to become a reality!
Seizing a sheet of paper I began to write a note in response to the one I had received. She might get it only a short time before the hour of two, but it would prepare her for my coming, and clinch thebargain a little sooner. For five minutes I wrote rapidly, and when I stopped to peruse the lines I tore up the sheet.
Had she been my sweetheart for ages I could hardly have used more extravagant language than I had been guilty of on that first page. Would I never learn the first principles of common sense? I had begun with the words, "My Darling Marjorie," and gone on to state that "your sweet letter fills me with supreme happiness;" "I shall not breathe until once more I am in your loved presence.
"Already I contemplate those heavenly hours when you and I will sail out upon the seas of Elysium," was another sample sentence, a type of the others. I paused in the rapid walk that I took up and down my room to look in my mirror, and was almost frightened at what I saw there. My cheeks were suffused with unusual color, my eyes dilated, my hair dishevelled, where I had run my nervous hands through it. My collar was rumpled, my tie disarranged, and in a room where the mercury was not above seventy the beads of perspiration stood on my forehead.
Dame! I went to the bath-room that formed a part of my little suite, let the icy water run till it filled the bowl and bathed my hands and face in it. Slowly I dried them with the towel, and then applied bay rum in liberal quantity.
I realized disagreeably for the hundredth time how that awful neurasthenia had left its traces upon me, and that if I was ever to wholly recover I must regain control of my emotions. With this in view Iagain seated myself at my desk and indited the following:
Dear Miss May:—It is with much satisfaction that I have perused your letter. The amount necessary to purchase the articles you need shall be left entirely to you. I will furnish whatever sum you decide upon. I will be at your lodging promptly at two. If there is anything else that occurs to you, please consider yourself at full liberty to mention it then. In the meantime I am going to Cook's office to pay the balance on the two rooms, as the time for doing so will soon expire.Your Friend,D.C.
Dear Miss May:—It is with much satisfaction that I have perused your letter. The amount necessary to purchase the articles you need shall be left entirely to you. I will furnish whatever sum you decide upon. I will be at your lodging promptly at two. If there is anything else that occurs to you, please consider yourself at full liberty to mention it then. In the meantime I am going to Cook's office to pay the balance on the two rooms, as the time for doing so will soon expire.
Your Friend,
D.C.
It was pretty sensible, I thought, as I read it over; a sort of medium between the cold tone of an ordinary employer and the unrestrained ardor of a happy boy. I was glad, however, to get out of doors and breathe the frosty air, for my temperature was still excessive. At Cook's I learned that several new names had been booked, and that there would soon be no more room, as things were going.
"I have given Mr. Wesson the upper berth in your room, subject to your approval," added the clerk. "He has a positive dread of bunking with an absolute stranger and he says you made him a conditional promise."
"That's all right," I said, pleased at the news. "I am sure we shall get along together finely. You may register the berth in the opposite room, that you have reserved for me, in the name of 'Miss M. May.' I have finally prevailed upon my cousin to go."
While he was entering the name, I wrote a checkfor the balance, upon receiving which the clerk handed me the tickets, from New York to St. Thomas.
"Hadn't you better book for the entire cruise?" he asked. "I don't believe you will care to remain at St Thomas longer than the day the Madiana is to be there."
"Oh, yes, I shall," I answered. "I stayed on the island three weeks the last time, and found it delightful. Probably I shall join some of your later cruises, but I must go unhampered."
"Supposing when you are ready to take one of the other boats you find every cabin full?" he asked, in a good-natured way.
"That's a risk I must run. The Royal Mail comes every fortnight, and there are three or four steamers a week, of one kind or another, at St. Lucia. There are ways enough to keep moving and I am unlimited as to time."
"Well, if I don't see you again," he said, with that affability that only one of Cook & Son's clerks can assume, "I wish you a very pleasant voyage."
"I am sure to have that," I replied.
I wondered if he would doubt it if he knew all!
Before leaving I purchased several books about the Caribbean, for the purpose of giving them to Miss May. There was "English in the West Indies," as entertaining as a romance, though in some respects hardly more reliable; Stark's "History and Guide to Barbados and Caribbee Islands," better than nothing, in the absence of a really desirable work on the subject; and half a dozen paper covered documents, issued by the Quebec SS. Company, a perusal of which revealed so many discrepancies as to makeone doubt whether the line actually ran any boats to that part of the world. With these under one arm I went over to the "Lambs" and partook of a brace of chops and some musty ale. Then, after smoking a cigar, I found the clock indicating that I might with safety begin my second pilgrimage to the Mecca of my ambition.
Crossing Broadway, great was my astonishment, and very small my satisfaction, to come suddenly upon Miss Statia Barton. She was looking undeniably pretty in her fur turban and cloth jacket, but she had no charms for me at that moment and I was sorry to lose the few seconds necessary to be courteous to her.
"Have you deserted us entirely?" she asked, with a constrained smile. "Tom said this morning he hadn't seen you for nearly a week."
"My time is much occupied," I answered. "You know it is but a few days now before I sail."
Had I been less full of another subject I should certainly have noticed that the coldness of my manner hurt her, and I hope I am not brute enough to do that intentionally. But, I did not think of such a thing then, nor till a long, long time after.
"Have you arranged the—the other matter?" she asked, with short breath.
"Excuse me. We can gain nothing by talking on that subject," said I.
"Then your charmer has decided not to go with you?" she said, interrogatively, but with a hard little laugh. "I thought it would come to that."
I was foolish enough to take out Miss May's letter and hold it up.
"On the contrary, since you insist on knowing,"I answered, "here is the final decision, and it is in favor of the plaintiff."
Her eyes opened as the conviction that I was telling the truth forced itself upon her. She was evidently not pleased.
"Mr. Camran," she said, in tones as clear and cutting as ice, "I asked you a moment ago why you had not been to my home. I now say you need never call there again, as far as I am concerned, and I shall endeavor to have my brother write you to the same effect."
"Don't put Tom to so much trouble," I replied, stung by her manner. "I have business too important and too pleasant to allow much time for mere duty calls."
Lifting my hat, an action that she did not see, as her eyes were bent on the sidewalk, I resumed my stroll. I should have been more annoyed at the occurrence if another subject had not so fully filled my head. The clocks struck two before I reached the number I sought, and I walked more rapidly.
"Miss May said you were to come to her room at once," said the colored servant, when she recognized my features. Needing no second invitation I mounted the stairs.
Her door stood slightly open and as I entered, without knocking, she rose from a low rocker and came toward me.
I could not have resisted had I been liable to execution for the offense; I met her in the middle of the apartment and held out both my hands.
In the most unaffected and delightful manner she extended her own and I clasped them.
"It is settled, then?" I cried. "You are going!"
"Take a seat," she said, releasing herself composedly. "There are still a few things that I must talk over with you."
The blood rushed back upon my heart, leaving my face pale. I was very glad to get the support of the arm-chair to which she motioned me.
"I have recently been ill, as I told you," I said in pleading tones, "and doubts, whatever their nature, are trying to me. Tell me only this—you are going?"
She breathed deeply for several seconds and then, with her head slightly on one side, looked at me.
"Do you really want me to?" she asked, gently.
GETTING READY FOR MY JOURNEY.
She could not know the pain she gave me by her evasions, that was the excuse I found for her. The dread that after all she intended to disappoint me pressed like a heavy weight upon my brain. She must have seen something in my face that alarmed her, for she asked if I would like a glass of water—or wine. When I replied in the negative she came at once to the preliminaries that were in her mind.
"I am going, of course," she said. "That is, if you think it worth while to grant all the demands I find necessary. I shall be glad when this disagreeable part of our bargain is ended, and I believe you will be equally, if not more so."
"What is it now?" I inquired, rather querulously. "What do you want? Come to the point, I beg, without further delay."
She turned to a mirror, and with a brush that lay on the bureau pushed back the hair that was half tumbling over her face—hair that was light and yet not blonde; hair that matched well with her blue-gray eyes and her regular features.
"It is not so easy as you may think to detail these things," she said, when her face was again turned toward me. "I have to depend on myself for my living, but I hate to assume the guise of a beggar. Still, as I told you in the first place, my purse is practically empty. There are many articles needed if I am to go with you, that I would not otherwise want at this season of the year. They will cost money. I—"
"All that was settled in my letter to-day," I interrupted. "Have you not received it?"
"Yes, I received the letter, and I want to thank you for its kindness of tone. As I understand it, you offer to advance me what I need to prepare for the journey. This, I presume, is to be deducted from my salary, which under ordinary circumstances, would be quite acceptable. But, as I told you, I have another to support, and I have to rely upon my weekly stipend for that purpose."
For a moment I doubted the girl. Was she after all an adventuress who meant to get what she could in advance, and disappear when the time of departure came? No man likes to be made the victim of a schemer. I do not care any more for a few dollars than the average of my fellows, but the thought of having them cheated out of me is not pleasant to contemplate. I imagined my chagrin if I should go sailing off to the Caribbean with the reflection that I had been the victim of a smooth-tongued woman—I, who had been through the same mill, and ought to have learned something.
"I see my suggestion does not please you," came in low tones from my companion. "I was a little afraid it would not. I am such a stranger that I cannot wonder if you distrust me. Well, I have no desire to influence you. I have told you my situation."
Rousing myself from my reverie I looked earnestly into the fair young face.
"Marjorie," I began; "may I call you 'Marjorie?'"
"As you please."
"I am sure, as I gaze into your eyes, that I trust you implicitly. The recollection of a woman whom I once trusted to my sorrow came between us for an instant, that is all. I am going to believe in you without the slightest mental reservation, but I want to say just one thing. If I discover that I am again deceived it will not be the paltry cash I shall mind. I shall only regret the new wrench to my confidence in the honesty of your sex. What you will need in the present emergency will have but little effect on my income. I would willingly make you a present of it, if no plan such as I have in mind were a part of the contract. Marjorie," I continued, leaning toward her and taking up one of her hands respectfully, "I trust you perfectly. Tell me how much money you wish and I will bring it within an hour. As the expense is caused entirely on my account, I have no idea of deducting a cent of it from your salary, which, if agreeable will be the same you already receive, twenty dollars a week. While I shall not promise too much, let me add that this will not be the extent of your compensation, by any means, if we get along together as well as I hope. Now, my dear girl, say there are no more lions in my path and that your last stipulation is agreed to."
She did not answer at once and her delay filled me with the most disagreeable forebodings.
"I want to go," she said, at last; and it was something that she did not compel me to release her hand. "I want to go, very much indeed. Only, you mustnot expect—" she paused again—"anything more than—"
"Do not distress yourself," I replied, divining what was in her mind. "I am going to the West Indies. Until the importation of coal begins at Newcastle, no one will dream of taking a woman on such a journey for an improper purpose."
She brightened visibly, and although she released my hand at the same moment she did it in a way that implied naught of distrust.
"It is a peculiar arrangement, though, take it altogether, is it not?" she asked, softly. "You are a man with, I judge, some knowledge of the world. What would your masculine friends say if you told them your plan? Would they believe in the innocence of your motive, as you ask me to do?"
I told her that my masculine friends were like others of their sex, I presumed, and might put the worst construction on anything, if they chose. There was not one of them to whom I had imparted my secret, and there would be none. I had looked over the "Madiana's" passenger list and seen no familiar name. There was not a chance in ten thousand that any person on the boat would know me, and if they did, there was a practical impossibility that they would know my family. I promised the most perfect discretion while on board, desiring as much as she to avoid exciting suspicion. Would she, I asked her, be any better off if I had proved what she imagined when she answered my advertisement—an elderly gentleman with rheumatism and green glasses? The proverb that there is no fool like an old fool might answer that question. As she had remarked in her letter, Mrs. Grundy could not arrange the lives of all her friends, and the best thing was to satisfy one's own self.
This seemed to please her, for she dropped the subject and asked particulars about the amount of baggage that each passenger was allowed to carry; which put me in better spirits, for it indicated that her face was at last turned toward the morning. I told her that a steamer trunk for the stateroom, a handbag, and a larger trunk to put in the hold was what I intended to take for myself, and I thought she would need the same. I asked if she had the articles, saying that, if she had not, I would be glad to order them sent to her.
"I have only a small trunk—it has managed hitherto to hold what things I have," was her reply.
"Then, with your permission, I will procure the entire outfit," I said. "Now, about the clothing and that sort of stuff. How much cash shall you require?"
She drew a long breath, and conceiving that she was afraid to name a sum I came again to the rescue.
"I will bring you two hundred and fifty dollars this afternoon," I said. "That ought to take you through."
Indeed, I thought the amount very liberal, and supposed she would say that it was even more than she expected. She did nothing of the kind, however, but only nodded acquiescence.
"There is something I was to ask you," I said, remembering what Mr. Cook's clerk had requested. "The berths are getting scarce on the 'Madiana'—and the agent wishes to know if you are willing to have another person share your room."
The young woman drew herself up and surveyed me with a cold expression. It was several seconds before I divined its cause, and then I had sense enough to pretend not to notice.
"A passenger who is going to occupy a room in that part of the boat wants, if possible, to have his niece near him," I continued. "She will take the upper berth, if you are willing, in your cabin, but it rests with you. I have arranged for the entire room."
Her icy features relaxed and she was herself again.
"I am quite willing," she answered. "In fact, had I known you intended to reserve an entire room for me I should have protested. Of course, it adds to the expense and I would rather have some one there than not. Are you going to occupy your room alone?"
I told her about Wesson, and she endorsed my action unreservedly.
"Where a trip cost so much, there is no need of adding to the expense," she said, thoughtfully. "I want to say another thing: As I am putting you to so much cost, you need not feel obliged on my account to stop at the highest priced hotels, when we are on shore. Anything comfortable and respectable will satisfy me."
I laughed as I responded that the best hotels in the Caribbean were neither very dear nor very luxurious. I would take her where I should have gone had I been alone and I hoped she would find herself "comfortable," as she expressed it, at all of them. I glanced at my watch at this juncture and suggestedthat perhaps I had best be going. If she was to do any shopping that day she would have to receive the "needful" very soon.
"Oh, to-morrow will do for the shopping," she replied. "If it is convenient you may send the money to-night, but I could not make much progress after this hour of the day. I shall probably have to get my suits ready made and submit to alterations. There is very little time left us now."
There was a partnership in this expression that pleased me greatly. I said as I rose that I hoped no new doubts would creep into her head, for I felt as if the journey we were to make together had actually begun.
"I cannot conceive of a reason to change my mind, unless it comes from some action of yours," said Miss May. "And I feel quite certain there will not be any."
"You may be positive of it," I replied. "I will go now to order the trunks, which may not, however, arrive before morning. As to the money, I will send it by a messenger as soon as possible. Au revoir."
"Au revoir," she said. "Let me add one thing more before you go. I am very grateful for the kindness you are showing me, more so than I fear I make plain, and as far as lies in my power I will endeavor to prove it."
"Don't mention it," I said, affected by her words. "All the obligation has been and will continue to remain on my side. Expect me Saturday afternoon."
I had again escaped without yielding to a temptation to do something foolish, for which I thanked mystars. It was with positive elation that I walked toward Sixth Avenue.
The dream was coming true. She was going with me. Nothing would come between us now!
I went without delay to my bank and drew four hundred dollars in fifty dollars bills, three hundred of which I enclosed in an envelope and sent at once to Miss May, by a district messenger. I thought it would drive another nail in the transaction to increase the amount I had promised, and fifty dollars was to me, in this connection, like a brass farthing to a millionaire.
Taking a passing car I rode to Macy's, where I purchased a large and a small trunk of compressed bamboo, covered with cloth of imitation leather, the lightest and strongest trunk that human ingenuity has yet invented. The larger one had several trays and a hat box, and was pronounced by the salesman the very latest thing. The bag gave me more trouble, but I settled at last on a tasty affair, with special arrangements for toilet articles, which was to be its main object of use, and heard to my delight that all of the things would be delivered without fail that very evening.
On returning to my room I picked up the letters received from the Herald office and read them over again, laughing occasionally at something particularly amusing. What a lot of silly women there must be in New York, when a modest "Personal" like mine had set so many of them spoiling good stationery with such nonsense. The only two worth giving any thought to were those from Marjorie and Miss Brazier. A whimsical notion struck me to write to"Alice" and tell her how near she had been to winning the "prize" in my case. In the course of fifteen minutes I had produced the following letter:
My Dear Miss Brazier:—As there were but two answers to my Herald advertisement (out of nearly as many hundred) worth noticing, and as yours was one of them, I may be pardoned for telling you that your Hated Rival has been secured by me for my Tropical Trip. Had you given me the least chance to discover your excellencies, it might quite as likely have been your fate to accompany me, so you will see how very narrow was your escape. Having recently recovered from a long illness (whence the necessity of a Southern voyage) I had no desire to meet your angry relatives, and I have yet to learn how to gauge a young lady's personality by mail. So you put yourself out of the running to begin with.I am sure, however, it will please you to know that Another has satisfied herself with my proposals and is now engaged in preparations to accompany me to a warmer clime. She is not only "all my fancy painted her," but more. As near as I can tell in the absence of actual measurements, she is about S feet 4 inches in height, well made, full chested, with a face to dream about, bluish gray eyes and hair of a rather light shade. But this description fails utterly to convey an adequate idea of her exquisite charm.I am to pay her—imagine making a pecuniary arrangement with an houri!—twenty dollars a week and expenses, only; except that the wardrobe which she finds it necessary to purchase for a climate averaging 78 deg. at this season, is also to be charged to me.Was ever so much given for so little? I shall certainly insist on her accepting a nice little purse of "conscience money" on her return, if we decide,on mature reflection, to terminate our contract at that time.Now, be magnanimous and write me a note of congratulation; I am sure you have a kind heart and will be glad all my correspondents did not threaten me with gouty and quick tempered uncles in case I wished to call on a purely business errand.Very Truly,David Camwell, Lambs Club.New York, Dec. 30, 1897.
My Dear Miss Brazier:—As there were but two answers to my Herald advertisement (out of nearly as many hundred) worth noticing, and as yours was one of them, I may be pardoned for telling you that your Hated Rival has been secured by me for my Tropical Trip. Had you given me the least chance to discover your excellencies, it might quite as likely have been your fate to accompany me, so you will see how very narrow was your escape. Having recently recovered from a long illness (whence the necessity of a Southern voyage) I had no desire to meet your angry relatives, and I have yet to learn how to gauge a young lady's personality by mail. So you put yourself out of the running to begin with.
I am sure, however, it will please you to know that Another has satisfied herself with my proposals and is now engaged in preparations to accompany me to a warmer clime. She is not only "all my fancy painted her," but more. As near as I can tell in the absence of actual measurements, she is about S feet 4 inches in height, well made, full chested, with a face to dream about, bluish gray eyes and hair of a rather light shade. But this description fails utterly to convey an adequate idea of her exquisite charm.
I am to pay her—imagine making a pecuniary arrangement with an houri!—twenty dollars a week and expenses, only; except that the wardrobe which she finds it necessary to purchase for a climate averaging 78 deg. at this season, is also to be charged to me.
Was ever so much given for so little? I shall certainly insist on her accepting a nice little purse of "conscience money" on her return, if we decide,on mature reflection, to terminate our contract at that time.
Now, be magnanimous and write me a note of congratulation; I am sure you have a kind heart and will be glad all my correspondents did not threaten me with gouty and quick tempered uncles in case I wished to call on a purely business errand.
Very Truly,
David Camwell, Lambs Club.
New York, Dec. 30, 1897.
I summoned a district messenger, by a call in my room, and dispatched this to East Sixteenth Street, though why I did not put it in the mail I do not know. There was certainly no haste required. The steward of the club would send an answer, if one was received, without delay, for I had given him my pseudonym, and he was too wise to ask questions.
That night I dreamed I was at St. Thomas; that Marjorie had somehow changed into the Quarantine Keeper's daughter; and that Laps, the Danish dog, was proceeding to tear her in pieces, when I interfered and treated him as Samson did the Lion in the Hebrew tale. The girl had fainted in my arms and, I was calling wildly upon Heaven to restore her senses, when a servant, up late, woke me by knocking on my door and inquiring if I wished for anything.
I searched for a bootjack to throw at the fellow's head, and not finding it in the dark, I threw a few uncomplimentary expletives instead. But sleep had vanished for that night, and after taking a cold bath I threw myself on a sofa, where with a pipe in my mouth I spent the long hours till morning drawing pictures of the happiness so soon to be mine.
"A WOMAN I LIKE VERY WELL."
The first thought that struck me when I was ready for breakfast was that my new secretary ought to terminate her arrangement with that disagreeably affectionate employer and keep open house during each entire day and evening for my benefit. The mornings that were to elapse before the sailing of the "Madiana" would be terribly dull. I had tried to make it clear to Miss May that her salary had already begun to be reckoned and I did not see why she should carry on two business engagements at the same time.
When I rose from the table on which my coffee and eggs had been spread, it was to receive a letter which had passed through the Lambs Club and was undoubtedly a reply to the one I had sent Miss Brazier on the previous day. It would at least entertain me for a few moments to know what that apparently lively young lady had to say:
Dear Sir:—[it began—coldly enough, I thought] Your communication has been duly received and its contents noted. Although it is unlikely, and certainly, on my part, not desired, that we shall ever meet, I must inform you that my answer to your advertisement was written purely in fun and without the least idea of accepting your remarkable proposition. I will add that I am surprised that youhave succeeded in inducing any woman of the least respectability to undertake such a journey, and I fear that your impression of her high character will receive some severe wrenches before your return.It must require unusual "nerve" to start off for several months with an unmarried man (or a married one, for that matter) putting ones self at his mercy, for that is what it amounts to. When the individual is wholly unknown to the woman who is to accompany him—when he may, for all she knows, be a "Jack, the Ripper"—the foolhardiness of the idea grows on one. I am sure I do not envy your companion, though it is by no means certain but you, and not she, will be the most swindled in the affair.I conjure you, however, though a total stranger, that if your friend proves to be merely a misguided girl of good intentions, you will not soil your soul with the greatest guilt of which a man can be capable. Remember, if your thoughts are dishonorable, that you have or have had a Mother, perhaps a Sister, whose memory should make you pause before you inflict irreparable ruin on one of the same sex.Yours Sincerely,A.B.New York, Dec. 31, 1897.
Dear Sir:—[it began—coldly enough, I thought] Your communication has been duly received and its contents noted. Although it is unlikely, and certainly, on my part, not desired, that we shall ever meet, I must inform you that my answer to your advertisement was written purely in fun and without the least idea of accepting your remarkable proposition. I will add that I am surprised that youhave succeeded in inducing any woman of the least respectability to undertake such a journey, and I fear that your impression of her high character will receive some severe wrenches before your return.
It must require unusual "nerve" to start off for several months with an unmarried man (or a married one, for that matter) putting ones self at his mercy, for that is what it amounts to. When the individual is wholly unknown to the woman who is to accompany him—when he may, for all she knows, be a "Jack, the Ripper"—the foolhardiness of the idea grows on one. I am sure I do not envy your companion, though it is by no means certain but you, and not she, will be the most swindled in the affair.
I conjure you, however, though a total stranger, that if your friend proves to be merely a misguided girl of good intentions, you will not soil your soul with the greatest guilt of which a man can be capable. Remember, if your thoughts are dishonorable, that you have or have had a Mother, perhaps a Sister, whose memory should make you pause before you inflict irreparable ruin on one of the same sex.
Yours Sincerely,
A.B.
New York, Dec. 31, 1897.
A strange letter, I thought, take it altogether. I read it over slowly for the second time. The first few lines indicated disappointment, and a perusal of the remaining portion did not remove this impression, entirely. The final sentences sobered me. The reflections they induced were certainly not exhilarating. Although I have no sister and cannot remember my mother, I have a great veneration for my lost parents,and there is no string so susceptible of influence on my actions as the one this writer touched.
I made a new resolution that I would carry myself like a gentleman in the truest sense of the word with Miss May. I had been honest in the expressions I used when talking the matter over with Harvey Hume. The earnest admonitions of Dr. Chambers had not been without effect. I meant to prove by this journey that I was capable of being in the close companionship of a young lady without becoming either a brute or a Don Juan.
Looking at it even from the standpoint of an enlightened selfishness I was sure to get more satisfaction in a voyage with a woman whom I could respect than with one who assumed the role of a cyprienne.
Loose creatures are to be found in plenty in the Caribbee Islands, as well as in New York. A sweet, true, honest, intelligent bit of femininity was quite another thing, and infinitely to be preferred, from any sensible view.
Marjorie! So far as my uncertain mind could do so I pledged to her a purity of intercourse such as a man might give to his affianced sweetheart.
I had folded the letter up and put it in my pocket when a visitor was announced, no less a person than Tom Barton. He came toward me with a distressed look on his honest countenance and it was plain that he was far from being at ease.
"Don," he said, paying no attention to my motion toward a chair, "what is the trouble between you and Statia? I can't believe you have done anything intentionally to set her so against you, and yet—"
"Sit down and don't get excited," I responded quickly, deciding to dispose of the matter in the calmest way. "Have you had your coffee? If not, let me ring for another pot. You don't seem well this morning, old boy."
"I'm not well," he said, in a dispirited tone, taking the chair at last. "But you can make me so with one word. Last night Statia came to me with her eyes full of tears. 'Tom,' she said, 'if you love me I want you to promise never to see Donald Camran again.' 'Never to see Don!' I exclaimed, unable to believe my ears. 'Yes,' said she, 'I've told him I don't wish him to call here and I want you to write him to the same effect.' You may imagine what a staggerer that was. There's not another fellow in the world of whom I wouldn't rather she'd have said that. I tried to get her to give some reason—any reason, or the hint of one—but it was no use. She only cried the harder, and when at last I went to bed, I tell you I didn't get much sleep. Tell me, Don, what it means."
"It seems you didn't make your sister the promise," I replied. "And you were quite right. The whim of a girl should not come between stanch friends like us."
That did not satisfy him, however. He murmured that we had been good friends—that he couldn't bear to think we should ever be otherwise—but he wanted to understand what his sister meant. As she wouldn't tell him, he had come to ask that favor of me.
"Supposing I don't care to say anything about it," I replied, quietly. "If Statia is set on keeping thewonderful secret, how can you expect me to divulge it?"
He struggled a moment with this idea, for Tom was always slow in grasping abstruse problems.
"You'll have to help me clear up the mystery," he said, at last. "I've only got one sister, Don, and she and I are all there are to the family now. If it comes to losing my sister or my best friend, I must stand by Statia."
I felt a chill going over my flesh as he spoke. I liked Tom, and I liked Statia—yes, in spite of the silly meeting of the day before. It was better to back down a little than to lose such friends.
"What a serious matter you make of it!" I exclaimed. "You ask me what is the trouble between Statia and me. Well, the fact is, I hardly know. She met me in Broadway yesterday and wanted to make me promise something that I could not see—to be candid—was any affair of hers. When I declined, as courteously as I knew how, she flew at me with the statement that I need never call at her house again. I had no choice in the matter, Tom, not the least. I wouldn't do anything to justify her in talking to me in that way, if I could help it, but one must retain a few of his personal rights, you know."
"And what was it about?" asked Tom, very earnestly.
"It was about a woman. A woman I like very well, and who happens to be going on the same steamer I am to the Tropics. There! The terrible secret is out."
Tom studied the answer a long time, but evidently could make nothing of it.
"Statia has always liked you immensely, Don," he said. "I've been almost jealous of you sometimes. She wouldn't go against you all of a sudden without what seemed to her a strong reason."
"And I like Statia," was my reply. "Yes, in spite of the ugly attitude she has chosen to take toward me. Why, Tom—I don't know but, under the circumstances, I ought to tell you—I asked her only a week ago to marry me."
"Ah!" he exclaimed, in a mixture of happiness and pain, that was very touching.
"Yes, and she refused positively. I was disappointed, you may believe, for I had thought she entertained a decided feeling in my favor, and would have asked long before except for that illness of mine. Her attitude might have thrown me back into the doctor's hands, for my head is not yet any too strong, but I managed to crush down my thoughts and bear up under it. I hope it's not wrong to tell you this, old chap, but I don't think I ought to let you go off with wrong impressions of me."
He shook his head in mute dismay.
"The other woman—the one you and she were speaking about," he said. "Who is she? It seems as if the key to the whole trouble was there."
"Now, Tom," I replied, "you have no right to ask me a question like that and I shall have to decline to bring the name of a third person into this discussion. I have the greatest regard for you and the highest respect for Statia. If you decide to throw me over, the responsibility must rest where it belongs."
"Would you—would you come round to thehouse and talk it over with both of us together?" he asked, after a long pause. "It troubles me more than I can tell you. Would you come over, say Tuesday evening?"
"Yes," I said, smilingly, "if Statia writes me a letter asking me to do so."
"She must write it," he said, brightening. "I can't have our friendship broken up like this. Shall you be at home all day?"
I answered that I would be there just before dinner, at least, to receive any communication that might be sent, and Tom, taking my hand in his hearty grasp for the first time since he had been in the room, said 'Good-by' and left me, evidently much relieved.
I was by no means as certain as he that Statia would make any such back-down. I have noticed that women are more apt than men to stick to a position they have once taken, even after they find that the mistake is on their side.
But, I really hoped some avenue would be opened for a reconciliation without my having to go on bended knees to either of them, which I saw no reason for doing.
I had told Tom all it would be safe to tell. He was so immaculate in all his thoughts of women that there was no saying how my plan, if fully presented, would strike his mind. I certainly did not mean to risk it.
It was a day that had begun disagreeably and I was looking forward to at least a pleasant afternoon, when a note from Miss May came, to dash that prospect to the ground. Here it is:
My Dear Mr. C.:—I fear you have undertaken a larger contract than you anticipated when you began. To be plain, the amount you left in my hands will hardly suffice to provide all the necessaries for a lady travelling as your relation and equal. If you are satisfied I will consent, though I am sure I would not have done so at first, to go as your ward, merely,—as a young woman whom you have promised some friend to see on her journey to a point where she is to be a governess or whatever you like to say.In that case you will not be disgraced if I do not dress very well. I cannot endure the thought of being suspected; and a lady such as you wish me to appear would have three or four gowns suitable for appearing at table, with at least a little jewelry—of which, alas! I have practically nothing.I write you this with a heavy heart, for I fear you will begin to consider me a nuisance, but I hope you will understand. I went out this morning and priced several gowns, but finding that the money you left me would be exhausted before the really necessary things were obtained, I returned to my room without breaking one of the banknotes.Please reply by messenger, stating what you think it best to do. If I am going to cost you more than you wish to expend, tell me so frankly and I will release you from every obligation. I resigned my other position last night, but am certain my old employer will gladly take me back if I have to ask it. Ugh! that is the most disagreeable thought in connection with this entire matter!Understand, I am ready to go with you—I want to go—and I leave the position I am supposed to occupy to your own judgment. If I am to pass as a governess, in whom you have no special interest, you may return me half of the money enclosed and I shall find it amply sufficient. If I amto be your "cousin," I fear it will have to be doubled.Please do not decide in a way you will regret. I am obliged to leave the city on an early train, to remain over New Years with friends, but shall expect you Tuesday at any hour after ten. That is, if you wish to see me again.Yours Faithfully,M.M.P.S. The trunks and bag are splendid. Of course, I shall hold them subject to your orders if you decide to drop our arrangement.
My Dear Mr. C.:—I fear you have undertaken a larger contract than you anticipated when you began. To be plain, the amount you left in my hands will hardly suffice to provide all the necessaries for a lady travelling as your relation and equal. If you are satisfied I will consent, though I am sure I would not have done so at first, to go as your ward, merely,—as a young woman whom you have promised some friend to see on her journey to a point where she is to be a governess or whatever you like to say.
In that case you will not be disgraced if I do not dress very well. I cannot endure the thought of being suspected; and a lady such as you wish me to appear would have three or four gowns suitable for appearing at table, with at least a little jewelry—of which, alas! I have practically nothing.
I write you this with a heavy heart, for I fear you will begin to consider me a nuisance, but I hope you will understand. I went out this morning and priced several gowns, but finding that the money you left me would be exhausted before the really necessary things were obtained, I returned to my room without breaking one of the banknotes.
Please reply by messenger, stating what you think it best to do. If I am going to cost you more than you wish to expend, tell me so frankly and I will release you from every obligation. I resigned my other position last night, but am certain my old employer will gladly take me back if I have to ask it. Ugh! that is the most disagreeable thought in connection with this entire matter!
Understand, I am ready to go with you—I want to go—and I leave the position I am supposed to occupy to your own judgment. If I am to pass as a governess, in whom you have no special interest, you may return me half of the money enclosed and I shall find it amply sufficient. If I amto be your "cousin," I fear it will have to be doubled.
Please do not decide in a way you will regret. I am obliged to leave the city on an early train, to remain over New Years with friends, but shall expect you Tuesday at any hour after ten. That is, if you wish to see me again.
Yours Faithfully,
M.M.
P.S. The trunks and bag are splendid. Of course, I shall hold them subject to your orders if you decide to drop our arrangement.
I looked at the six fifty dollar bills lying on the table, where they had fallen from the envelope. The messenger boy looked at them also, as if he half wished he had run away with the package instead of delivering it. His presence disturbed me and I told him to walk around the block, returning in a quarter of an hour. This he hesitated to do and I shoved a two dollar bill into his fist, as a guarantee of my good faith.
What a criss-cross of ideas piled upon my brain when I was alone! At one instant I said to myself that Miss May was a schemer, who had determined to "play me for a sucker,"—to use a common, though not over delicate expression. She had been indiscreet in returning my cash; I would put it in my pocket and forget her. On the other hand, the thought of going south alone was enough to madden me. I did not care two straws that the cost of the trip would be doubled, if it possessed the charming features I had allowed myself to paint.
The woman's going into the country for two whole days when the question was unsettled was also mostexasperating. If I could proceed immediately to her room and talk with her face to face it would be easier to decide.
The fifteen minutes passed, the boy returned, and I was still in a quandary. Finally, when the young imp presented himself in a business-like attitude, I seized a pen and wrote as follows: