A RAILWAY TRIP
The speculator on a large scale feels no more elated over the rescue of
a fortune from anticipated loss than did Miss Lacey in the recovery of
her one thousand dollars. In the expansion of ideas which it caused she
determined to celebrate by taking a chair in the parlor car for Boston
on Wednesday morning.
John Dunham boarded the train just as it was pulling out of the
station, and as he approached his seat suddenly heard himself
greeted:--
"It _is_ Sir Walter," said a pleased voice. "I wasn't sure till you
took your hat off."
The young man paused in the act of hanging up his hat and looked down
upon the occupant of the next chair. She was regarding him with
interest.
"Why, good-morning, Miss Lacey," he responded, and perhaps his smile
would not have been so pronounced but for the quick consideration of
Judge Trent's situation had he not transferred his ticket this morning.
Dunham even wondered if Miss Lacey might not have learned in some way
who it was that had engaged this chair and made her arrangements
accordingly. However, the surprise with which she recognized him was
certainly genuine.
"Aren't these seats comfortable?" she went on as he sank into his. "I
never traveled in one before. I'm just being reckless this morning."
Her triumphant, half-defiant regard did not indicate that she was
laboring under any disappointment.
Upon Dunham's acquiescence she continued: "Perhaps, being in the
office, you know about my windfall?"
"I hadn't heard, but I'm glad there was a windfall."
Miss Martha scrutinized the speaker's countenance approvingly. "He's
about as pleasant-looking a man as I ever laid eyes on," she thought.
"It isn't exactly a windfall, because it's only my own come back to me;
but it's money I never expected to see again, and if Cal--if Judge
Trent wasn't a good deal smarter than the average I never should have,
either."
"Not many people can get ahead of him," returned Dunham.
"I guess not," said Miss Lacey, and she bridled proudly in a manner not
lost upon her neighbor. "So I just said to myself this morning, 'What's
the use of always being so careful?' Said I, 'I believe I'll see for
once how it feels to go to Boston like a nabob.'"
Dunham smiled and nodded, perceiving that Miss Martha felt that her
extravagance must be explained even if it could not be justified.
The extra alertness of her look suffered a slight cloud as she
continued: "One thing that made me feel reckless was that affairs are
taking a turn that may make me be more careful and more economical than
I ever was before, and I just thought before I found out I'd have one
good time!"
As she finished, the defiant expression returned, and she cast a glance
at her companion which seemed to challenge his disapproval. "I notice
you don't--I notice lots of folks don't mind the extravagance."
"Ah, but Judge Trent pays my expenses, you see."
Miss Lacey drew herself up under the smiling regard. "He came very near
paying mine," was her unspoken thought, and she would have been
astonished to know how close her companion came to reading it.
"Of course that makes a difference," she returned, and she regarded her
neighbor curiously, wishing she knew just what his business arrangement
was with the judge.
"And I would have known, too, if I'd married him," she thought.
Dunham had been handling a magazine, watching for the moment when he
could open it; but gaining more and more the impression that Miss Lacey
felt his companionship to be a perquisite which rendered more
reasonable the price of her chair, he dropped the periodical in his
lap.
"Well, for my part, Miss Lacey," he said, leaning his head back
definitely, "I think some well-distributed extravagance isn't so
disreputable."
"Perhaps not," she returned, "but if you were a lone spinster without a
bank account you might have your doubtful moments."
There was a hint of childlike excitement in the speaker's manner which
Dunham found rather touching.
"Don't pretend to me that you ever have doubtful moments," he said,
regarding the alert face with curiosity as to how it had appeared in
those days when Judge Trent had wanted "just that one girl."
"My!" exclaimed Miss Lacey. "I'm having a doubtful moment right now;
not one, but dozens! I'm on the most ticklish errand of my life. That's
what I called on Judge Trent about the other day."
"That's right," commented Dunham gravely. "Never move without legal
advice."
"And if I'd had any idea I was going to meet _you_, I'd have brought
your handkerchief. I've done it up as smooth as satin."
"How good of you!"
"And it's pretty near as fine as satin, too; and that worked monogram
is a beauty; but it's lucky you're a lawyer, for it would take one to
figure out what the letters are;--but you needn't tell your sweetheart
I said so."
Dunham laughed. "I won't. It would break her heart."
"Don't you ever wipe off chairs with it again. It's wicked," declared
Miss Lacey emphatically.
"Then don't you ever come into the office and give me heart failure by
your unkind comments."
"I don't know as I ever shall," returned Miss Lacey, suddenly pensive
and looking into space. "The other day I was clear out of Judge Trent's
office and into the street, and it was too late to go back, before I
realized that I'd scarcely got three words from him that were really
definite or any use to me. Has he mentioned to you anything about a
niece of his who has come to Boston? I suppose he hasn't."
"Yes, he has."
"Indeed? Well, she's mine, too, and this minute I'm on my way to see
her." Miss Lacey made the declaration impressively. "He ought to be
here himself. But I won't shirk my duty if he does his. She's come
clear from Illinois, and I don't know what for. I wish I was like some
folks and could let her shift for herself; but she isn't twenty yet,
and I haven't got the heart. I haven't been smart, I saw that
afterward; for if I'd gone to Judge Trent and just said I was too poor
to do anything for Sylvia and stuck to it, and carried matters with a
high hand and told him I wasn't going near her, he'd have had to. I see
that as plain as day now, but he came at me with the good news about my
money, and kind of sidled me toward the door, and while I was gasping
and trying to realize it, the first thing I knew I was downstairs."
Dunham received her injured look with a nod as she paused.
"I live all alone," she went on, and John wondered who then customarily
received her flow of conversation; "and all this sudden business is a
great disturbance to me. I've laid awake over the matter, and prayed
over it, and here I am, not knowing yet what I'm going to do."
She fell silent. She could not tell this stranger that it was the
ne'er-do-well character of her only brother which caused her panic at
the mere hint of taking the responsibility of his daughter, many years
motherless and the companion of his wholly slipshod methods of life. In
years past Calvin Trent had been wont to say it was like pouring water
into a sieve to endeavor to help Sam Lacey.
While Miss Martha was indulging in a résumé of the dismal situation her
companion took a folded memorandum from an inside pocket and scanned
it.
* * * * *
"Girl at Hotel Frisbie.
"Name Sylvia Lacey.
"Age nineteen.
"Her mother, my sister, dead for ten years.
"Her father, recently deceased, an alleged artist, a rolling stone
and a scapegrace all his life.
"Be present at interview between Miss Martha Lacey and the girl.
"Let Miss Martha take the lead."
* * * * *
There were a few further instructions, but Miss Lacey here broke in
upon the reading.
"I'm going to ask you to do one more gallant thing for me, Sir Walter."
"I'm ready."
"Put me on the right car for Hotel Frisbie. The Boston street-cars are
a hopeless muddle to me,--always were and always will be."
"I'll escort you to the hotel."
"Oh, that's too kind!" exclaimed Miss Martha. "I'm not quite _non
compos_. I can get out all right. It's the getting _in_ that's the
puzzle."
"But I have to go there myself. Judge Trent thought you might need a
lieutenant. He has sent me to help you."
The color rushed to Miss Martha's face. Calvin was thinking of her,
after all. Her eyes glistened with sudden hope.
"What is he willing to do?" she demanded.
"Nothing--that is, very little," responded Dunham hastily. "You, I
suppose, are acquainted with this young lady?"
"Indeed I'm not!" Miss Martha repudiated the charge with energy. "And
I'm not nearly as well able to help her as Calvin is. So he sent you.
He has a conscience about it, after all. I don't suppose he'd consent
to her living with him?"
"Not for one moment," returned Dunham quickly. "Whatever course you
consider, that idea must be dismissed."
"Whatever course I consider," repeated Miss Lacey bitterly. "Judge
Trent has no business to leave all the considering to me. It's
cowardly, and it's mean, and I don't care one bit if you tell him I
said so!"
"I shan't," returned Dunham. "He has sent me. He is prepared to do
something, anything in reason that you think best."
After this Miss Lacey's problem descended heavily upon her, and she
averted her head and looked gloomily at the flying landscape; so Dunham
opened his magazine and read until they reached Boston.