CHAPTER XLIX.MR. MAHONE.
Ellen Post went down to the kitchen just after Boyce entered it with his basket of groceries, and there she found Robert conversing in a low, eager voice with the grocer’s clerk. As the two stood together, the girl remarked the wonderful likeness that existed between them, in form and color. Both were strong, and, if not tall, well built and active. Boyce was talking earnestly, and glanced around now and then to make sure that no one was listening. There was a look of triumph in his face, that Robert seemed to share, for he smiled broadly, while he listened, and laying his hand on the clerk’s shoulder, seemed to commend him for something he had done.
Ellen Post was impatient, and watched all this with irritation. She wished to speak with Robert, and was angry that he did not come forward the moment she entered the room.
“Mr. Mahone,” exclaimed the irate maid. “Mr. Mahone, I am waiting to speak with you!”
“Mahone,” repeated Boyce, with a sly wink at the footman. “She might spell that with five letters, and begin them with a B.”
Boyce spoke in the lowest possible voice, but Robert checked him severely, almost whispering.
“Hush, you young rascal. Don’t you know that women have sharp ears. Can I never learn you to be prudent.”
“About the time I learn you to be fair,” answered Boyce, a little savagely. “But, remember, this time you’ve got to toe the mark. I don’t mean to do all the work, and feed on the crumbs. So put that in your pipe, and smoke it, Bob.”
“Mr. Mahone!”
“Yes, Miss Post, the minute I have settled up with this fellow. He’s no more idea of figures than a donkey. Only I notice he always makes the mistake on his side. As I recommended him here, you understand, it’s my place to see that everything is on the square.”
Ellen Post gave her French cap a toss that set all its ribbons in quick motion, and would have left the room in high dudgeon, but for the business that she had in hand. As it was, she marched up to the young men, and broke up their conference at once.
“You stay here. We may have something to say to you,” she said, addressing Boyce, as if she had been that female tyrant, Elizabeth, and he a servant in her path. “Mr. Mahone will tell you if you are wanted. So wait.”
Boyce laughed broadly, and took a seat in the kitchen, while Ellen Post and Robert went to the servants’ parlor, and shut themselves in, the maid observing that the cook was always prying about, and, this thing being serious, they must have no listeners. With this caution, she seated herself on the hair-cloth sofa, and invited him, with her eyes, to take the vacant place by her side.
Robert, nothing loth, took the seat, and his arm crept along the back, until it almost embraced the long, thin waist of the lady’s maid, who looked around sharply to make sure that it was not indecorously near.
“Mr. Mahone!”
“My angel! My—my——”
“Never mind, Robert; this is business. I despise mixing up things.”
“Business is pleasure, where you are concerned, Miss Post.”
“That is just what I hope it will lead to in the end, for it’s a great thing, I can tell you.”
“Indeed! Well, that don’t astonish me! You was born to great things, Miss Post. No mistake about that!”
“Which I am ready to share,” answered Ellen, “for it will take more than one to earn five thousand dollars!”
“Five thousand dollars! Why, Ellen, you take away my breath.”
“It took away mine, at first; but now I am ready for work. Are you?”
“Am I ready to make five thousand dollars! Try me, that’s all.”
“Robert, you know a boy by the name of Laurence. He comes here with groceries now and then.”
“Yes, I know all about him. He’s in the same store with Boyce.”
“He’s got a sister?”
“Yes. I’ve seen her. A stunning girl.”
“That girl has set her foot on Miss Spicer!”
“What! There must be some mistake about that; they don’t travel the same road.”
“No mistake at all. I know what I’m saying. More than that, she has offended the madam, who is bitter against her.”
“You don’t say so!”
“She is handsome.”
“Stupendously so. Her face fairly took me off my feet.”
“Mr. Mahone?”
Mr. Mahone dropped his arm, and almost leaped to his feet; a whole volley of small shot rolled off in that one exclamation.
“I beg ten thousand pardons, Miss Post. I was speaking of the opinion others might have. As for me, I have eyesonly for one woman, this side of sunrise, and that woman is Ellen Post.”
“Mr. Mahone, sit down. It is hard when the heart is wounded to stick to business; but stick we must.”
“Well, Ellen, I don’t object. You were speaking of Miss Laurence. I know all about her!”
“But how?” demanded Ellen, forgetting business again, in a sharp fit of jealousy. “Mr. Mahone, do you visit that creature?”
“Me? me? Do you think I haven’t better taste than Mr. Ivon? He visits her; but, as for me, I’d rather be excused, not being necessitated to go away from home.”
“This is not business,” exclaimed Ellen, growing practical, as her jealousy was appeased. “The long and the short of it is, this girl has been forcing herself into the company of her betters, which neither the madam or Miss Spicer will stand. Mr. Ivon has taken to her in a way quite ridiculous; so has another person of quite as much importance. The ladies don’t want her to cross their path again. We must see that she don’t.”
“But how?”
“The Laurence family, root and branch, must be brought to disgrace. Being poor as Job’s cat isn’t enough, for some rich people have taken them up. She must be so covered with shame, that no one will have the courage to speak to her in the street.”
“But how is it to be done. We might get up a big scandal; but people are getting shy of believing such things, when they come from the basement; but for that, I am capital at building castles out of card-houses. In our line now, I could work wonders against any girl——”
“Not any girl, Mr. Mahone,” broke in Ellen, with a hot burst of pride. “There are persons that slander cannot reach!”
“I meant any girl like that, if she belonged to our spear,Miss Ellen. Of course, there are women as high as the stars. Having a sample before me, I can say that, and defy contradiction.
“The girl is awful proud of her family; poor but honest, you know,” said Ellen, once more mollified to the business point.
“Honest! My eyes! that is good! Why, Boyce was just telling me that the boy has been robbing like sixty—hand in hand with a lot of burglars. It’s a secret; but the detectives are on his track now.”