While the butler was serving the cocktails, Virginia roamed through
the splendid suite of rooms, taking keen delight in examining at
closer range one and all of the art treasures they contained. She went
into silent ecstasies before a Da Vinci, a Rembrandt and other fine
examples of the old masters, and was held spellbound by the beautiful
modelling of a piece of modern French sculpture. She was not enough of
a connoisseur to be able to estimate each picture, each curio at its
true value, but she knew enough to realize that it was a very valuable
collection and one which very few persons were privileged to view. The
books with their fine bindings were likewise a source of particular
delight.
How happy, she mused, the possessor of such a paradise ought to be!
She wondered if he spent much time at home or if he preferred to
answer the call of the gay metropolis. He looked like a man who
enjoyed life. Why had he taken all this trouble for such obscure
persons as themselves? Why had he looked at her in that persistent,
admiring way? Could it be possible that he was really attracted to her
and had begun to think of her as a man does of the woman he wants to
marry? Was it conceivable that she could ever be the mistress of such
a beautiful home as this? What folly to even dream of such a
possibility! Possibly, he was attracted to her and liked her company,
but there was a vast difference between a fleeting whim and wishing to
make her his wife. And when her glance fell on Jimmie and Fanny
squabbling in the distance it was with some bitterness that she
realized the difference in their station, the width of the social
chasm between her and the set to which their host belonged.
"Excuse--please--excuse," spluttered the polite little Jap as he
gracefully presented the salver to each guest.
Fanny took a glass, followed in turn by Jimmie, who, extending his
clumsy hand, snatched one of the dainty glasses and put it to his
lips. The butler, all smiles and civility, placed the tray on a table
and again bowed low. Pointing to the tray, he said:
"Cigarettes and cigars! Is there anything else?"
"Not for me," replied Jimmie, making himself comfortable in a chair on
the other side of the table.
"Nor for me," smiled Fanny, graciously.
"No, thank you," added Virginia quickly. "We need nothing else."
"Then excuse, please. Excuse--"
The butler salaamed and withdrew, leaving Jimmie and Fanny sipping
their cocktails, while Virginia, still interested in the hundred and
one curios scattered about the rooms, strolled around alone.
"Some cocktail, eh?" grinned Jimmie, smacking his lips.
"Fine!" exclaimed his fiancée, emptying her glass and putting it down
on the table.
Suddenly the clerk's eyes, wandering idly around the room, alighted on
the tray filled with cigar and cigarette boxes which the butler had
left behind. Rising and going to the table, he stood staring greedily
at some expensive perfectos. Finally, unable any longer to withhold
his itching palm, he put out his hand and selected one. He lit it and
for a few moments puffed away with evident satisfaction. The more he
puffed and inhaled the weed's fragrant aroma, the more sorry he was
that he had none of the same brand at home. Acting on a sudden
impulse, he went back to the table and took half a dozen cigars out of
the box. He was about to stuff them into his pocket when Virginia,
stepping quickly forward, interfered:
"Jimmie!" she exclaimed indignantly.
He stayed his hand and rather shamefacedly placed the cigars back in
the box. Looking up, he demanded:
"Why not? He wouldn't mind."
"Just the same, it isn't a gentlemanly thing to do," she said
severely.
"If it comes to that," he retorted sharply, "I ain't a gentleman--I'm
a shipping clerk."
"Then, of course, there's nothing more to say," she answered, turning
her back. Picking up a book, she dropped into a chair and, ignoring
him, relapsed into a dignified silence.
But Jimmie was not to be suppressed by a mere rebuff. After a long,
sulky silence, during which he puffed viciously at his cigar, he
followed his prospective sister-in-law across the room. After staring
at her for some time, he inquired:
"How did you first come to know Mr. Stafford?"
At first the girl made no answer, pretending to be absorbed in what
she was reading. He repeated the question so pointedly that she would
not ignore it any longer. Looking up, she said rather impatiently:
"How many more times must I tell you? I was at my desk in the hotel
about three months ago and he came and wanted long distance--I think
it was Washington. There was some trouble getting his party and, as
people will, we got into conversation about it. I had no idea who he
was--"
Fanny, who had come up, listened intently to the conversation, and, to
encourage her little sister to become confidential, arranged some
pillows behind her back in motherly fashion. Long before this the
elder sister had come to conclusions of her own concerning Virginia's
acquaintance with the millionaire. When a man of his wealth and
position took the trouble to pay a girl of Virginia's station such
marked attention, capping the climax with this present invitation to
dine at his house, either his intentions were not avowable or else he
was very much in love and wanted to marry her, which last hypothesis
sent a thrill down the good sister's back. Virgie the wife of a
millionaire! It seemed incredible--too good to be true. It would be
the making of all of them. She was glad Jimmie had brought up the
subject.
"Did you know then who he was?" she asked.
Virginia laughed as if the question amused her.
"No," she replied, "to tell you the truth, I didn't much care. A girl
who handles a telephone desk at our hotel hasn't got much time to
bother about anything else."
"When _did_ you find out?" inquired Jimmie, suddenly taking a
lively interest in the conversation.
"About a month later--that day he sent downstairs for a stenographer.
I told you all about it at the time. I asked at the desk if it was all
right to go to his rooms. They told me who he was and explained that
he often transacted a lot of business there. That's how we got
acquainted. Since then, as you know, I have seen a great deal of him,
telephoning and doing copying for him. He has been very kind, indeed.
One day he asked me to go to dinner with him--"
"Did you?" demanded Jimmie.
"Certainly not," replied the girl emphatically. "Then he used to come
nearly every day. One time I--I think he had been--drinking."
"He was--drunk?" exclaimed Fanny in surprise.
"Oh, no! Not that," said Virginia quickly, "but I could see he had
been drinking."
"Just lit up a bit to show that he's human, eh?" said Jimmie with a
grin.
Paying no attention to the interruption, Virginia went on:
"I didn't like him quite so much after that. He asked me again--"
"And you wouldn't?" interrupted Fanny.
"Of course not!"
Jimmie chuckled. Crossing his legs and striking the ashes from his
cigar, he said:
"Say, but that was foxy!"
"What was?" demanded Virginia quickly.
"Making him think that he having money made no difference."
"It didn't."
"Sure it didn't," he laughed. "That was the way to play it."
"What do you mean?" cried the girl indignantly. "I wasn't 'playing'
anything or anybody."
Paying no heed to the frantic signs which Fanny was making for him to
keep silent, the shipping clerk went on:
"Why not? It's all in the game."
Ignoring him, Virginia continued:
"He finally asked me to dine with him here and to bring you and Jim. I
had told him about your being engaged."
The young man nodded approvingly. With a patronizing air he said:
"I'm beginning to think this fellow Stafford's on the level. He might
even want to marry you."
Virginia flushed scarlet. Confusedly she exclaimed:
"Don't be absurd!"
"But if he did," insisted Fanny, "_would_ you marry him?"
Jimmie laughed loudly:
"_Would_ she!" he chuckled. "Say, Fanny, are you crazy?"
Virginia shook her head. Slowly she said:
"I don't know that I would."
"What!" exclaimed the clerk, half starting from his chair. "Do you
mean to say that if any man as rich as Stafford was to ask you on the
level to be his wife that you wouldn't jump at the chance?"
Quite unmoved by his indignant outburst, the girl replied calmly:
"I've seen men who are twice as rich as Mr. Stafford that I wouldn't
marry if they gave me half their money as a wedding present."
The shipping clerk made a grimace, but reluctantly nodded approval.
Carelessly he said:
"In a way I can't say that I blame you. I've seen pictures of a lot of
these financiers and, believe me, they are the rummiest looking bunch
I ever set eyes on! But I didn't think Stafford was that kind."
"I thought he was rather distinguished looking," interrupted Fanny.
"He is," said Virginia quickly. "What's more--he's a gentleman."
Jimmie rose and walking over to where Virginia was sitting, stood
looking at her, his hands in his pockets. Almost sarcastically he
asked:
"Then see here, if--this--Mr. Stafford is distinguished looking and a
gentleman, as well as rich, will you please tell me what kind of a man
you want?"
The girl made no reply, but with a thoughtful expression on her face,
gazed through the window. It was now quite dark outside and the river
below was dotted here and there with the lights of steamboats and
sailing boats as they made their way up and down the broad stream.
Jim's chance remark had set her thinking. Others beside herself were
speculating as to the purport of Mr. Stafford's attentions? That they
were honorable she had not the slightest doubt, although at one time
she had been a little afraid of him. Those invitations to dinner and
his manner on one or two occasions she had rather resented, but for
some time past now he had quite changed. He was more respectful, more
sincere. Supposing the impossible were to happen--supposing he were to
ask her to be his wife? For all she knew, the proposal might come that
very evening. It might be part of the plan of this sudden impromptu
dinner. What would she say to him? Did she love him? Frankly she did
not--yet. Could she ever love him? The answer to that was in the
future. Ought a girl to marry a man whom she knew in her heart she did
not love? He was rich, the marriage was in every way desirable. She
would have every comfort, but could real happiness come of a marriage
which on both sides would be, after all, only a mockery, a hollow
sham?
Jimmie, impatient, repeated his question.
"Will you kindly tell us what kind of a man you want?"
Virginia looked up. Calmly she answered:
"I--I want a man I can love."
The clerk gave a low whistle. Sarcastically he said:
"If you can't love a man as rich as Mr. Stafford, take my advice and
go see a heart specialist."
"A girl can't love a man just because she wants to," replied Virginia
with dignity. "Love doesn't go where it's sent; it goes where it
pleases."
"That's right," interrupted Fanny. Turning to her fiancé she said:
"You don't suppose I loved a fourteen-dollar-a-week shipping clerk
because I wanted to, do you?"
Jimmie squirmed in his chair.
"What?" he exclaimed.
Quickly Fanny mended matters. With a conciliatory smile she added:
"I loved him just because I had to."
Immediately placated, the young man rose and, approaching his fiancée
in a manner intended to suggest the tenderest sentiment, he stuttered:
"Same here. The first time I ever set eyes on you, Fanny, something
inside o' me said: 'Me for her!'"
The girl laughed. Placing her hand over her heart, she said mockingly:
"And something here said, 'Him for me!'"
He stooped and kissed her and, taking her hand, they sat side by side
on the sofa together in the manner of all conventional lovers.
Virginia, who had watched them with amusement, shook her head. Sadly
she said:
"My heart never said anything like _that_ to _me_."
"Then perhaps it won't be that way with you," said Jimmie. "Perhaps
you'll learn to care for him by degrees like you would--say, for Mr.
Stafford."
"Don't talk nonsense," cried Virginia.
"He's interested in you, and if you play your cards right--"
"I'm not _going_ to play any cards."
"Let me tell you one thing," he said, rising and going to the table,
"a chance like this don't come to one girl in a million."
"Please!--" exclaimed Virginia, putting up her hand to stop his
talk.
But Jimmie was not so easily suppressed. Earnestly he went on:
"It's a chance of a life time. It means a lot to me and Fanny too."
"Yes, that's true," chimed in his fiancée.
Virginia turned and looked at her sister.
"How?" she demanded.
Jimmie, as usual, replied for his slower-witted partner:
"Do you think," he said, "I want to be a shipping clerk all my life?
Well, I don't. I've got ambitions. Yes, and I've got the ability. All
I need is a chance and I'd be one of 'em, too."
"One of what?"
"A captain of industry, a magnate, a financier."
"You!"
"Me."
"He could do it," exclaimed Fanny admiringly.
"You bet I could," he said positively. Turning to Virginia, he went
on: "And if you married Mr. Stafford and he gave me a chance, which as
his brother-in-law he certainly would--well, if I ever got a flying
start I'd show 'em a few things. I've got ability, I have."
"Why don't you prove it by getting eighteen dollars a week?" retorted
Virginia sarcastically.
Turning her back on him, she walked away and took a seat near the
window, where she could look out on the street. But he followed her:
"I thought you'd say something like that," he said. "It just shows how
much you know."
"Explain it to her, Jimmy," exclaimed Fanny.
"What's the good?" he replied scornfully. "She wouldn't understand.
But I will say this: If I had an opportunity to show some rich man
just what I could do, I'd be worth perhaps a million dollars in ten or
twelve years, and that would mean a swell house for you and me, and
servants, and automobiles and everything like that. I'd show 'em!"
Overcome by the vivid picture he had drawn, Fanny took his hands.
Enthusiastically she cried:
"Oh, Jimmy, wouldn't it be lovely? And perhaps we could get into real
society, too--perhaps we might meet the social leaders from Harlem and
Brooklyn whose pictures are in the papers every Sunday!"
"There'd be nobody we couldn't meet," he cried proudly.
"And fancy!" exclaimed Fanny--"fancy going to the dressmaker's,
picking out half a dozen dresses, having them sent home without even
asking the price, and letting them charge just as much as they like!
Wouldn't that be heavenly?"
"You can have all that and more," he cried exultingly.
Virginia shrugged her shoulders. The topic was becoming distasteful to
her. Impatiently she exclaimed:
"It's perfectly ridiculous!"
Going over to her sister, Fanny put her arm around her neck:
"All I want is for you to be happy, sis."
"I know it, dear," replied Virginia. "That's the way you've been
always."
"You're different to me," went on the elder sister.
"No, I'm not."
"Yes, you are. You'd do any man credit."
"Oh, Fanny!"
"But I'd hate to see you try to keep house on eighteen per. That means
doing your own work, including the cooking--yes, and the washing--and
you weren't made for that."
"Don't worry about me--I'll be all right."
"I hope so," sighed Fanny.
"I will, don't fear," smiled Virginia.
Not yet discouraged the shipping clerk returned to the attack. Folding
his arms in authoritative fashion and addressing his future
sister-in-law he said severely:
"Will you give me a straight answer to a plain question? If Mr.
Stafford does ask you to marry him, will you? Come on, now, will you?"
"I won't talk about such things," retorted the girl.
Her face flushed up. It was easy to see that she was getting angry.
Shrugging his shoulders, the young man walked away, but sarcastically
he said:
"Well, if he does and you don't accept him, you'll be the biggest fool
that ever lived!"
"That's just what I say," laughed Fanny. "Ha! I wish he'd ask me!"
Quickly Virginia turned to her sister.
"Would you accept him?" she asked.
"Would I?" laughed Fanny. "Oh, would I?"
"And throw Jimmie over?"
"I'd throw Jimmie so far and so hard he'd think he was struck by a
cyclone."
"And I wouldn't blame her," said the young man, scratching his head.
Virginia looked in amazement from one to the other.
"I can't understand either of you," she exclaimed.
Never at a loss for an answer the clerk proceeded to explain:
"Why should I expect any girl to stick to me and fourteen per when she
can have a place like this? Look at this swell furniture, these rugs,
and them ornaments--" Going, over to the mantelpiece, he picked up one
of the costly Peach Blow vases, examined it critically for a moment
and turned to the girls: "I suppose this is one of them
peach--peach--something or other--vases I've read about."
"Peach Blow," corrected Virginia.
"That's it," he grinned. "I suppose it's worth six or seven thousand
dollars--"
"Be careful!" exclaimed Virginia warningly, "or you'll drop it."
The words were hardly uttered when Jimmie's foot caught in the rug and
he stumbled, dropping the vase, which broke into two pieces.
Bewildered, horrified, he stood still, surveying with dismay the
fragments at his feet.
"Now you've done it!" he exclaimed hoarsely.
"I have?" exclaimed Virginia indignantly.
"Yes--I shouldn't have dropped it if you hadn't shouted at me."
Picking up the pieces, he tried to fit them together.
Fanny, frightened out of her wits, was speechless.
"I think we'd better go home!" she gasped.
Virginia alone remained cool.
"Don't be foolish," she said.
"Wait a bit! Wait a bit!" cried Jimmie; picking up the pieces and
putting them together. "Look here. How's that for luck? They fit
perfectly. No one will know the difference." Replacing the mended vase
where he had found it, he added: "We'll leave it just like that and
he'll think the Jap did it."
"Fine!" cried Fanny thoughtlessly, grasping at any excuse which
promised to exonerate them.
But Virginia would not permit it.
"We'll do nothing of the kind," she exclaimed indignantly.
"If we don't, he'll think we've done it," said Jimmie apprehensively.
The girl gave him a look that made him quail.
"He's not only got to think it," she said severely--"he has got to
know it."
"But if he does--"
As he spoke the front door bell rang in the outer hall. Quickly he
added: "I'll bet that's him! Shall you tell him?"
"I certainly shall if you don't," replied Virginia firmly.
Oku passed hurriedly through the room on his way to open the front
door.
"Excuse, please, excuse--"
Nervous at meeting her host, Fanny began to mop her face desperately.
"I'm so nervous!" she said. "Do I shake hands with him when I'm
introduced or just say 'pleased to meet you?'"
Virginia laughed heartily.
"Behave as you would with anyone else," she said.
"How do you feel, Jimmie?" inquired Fanny.
There was an expression of comical consternation on the shipping
clerk's face as he pointed to the broken vase.
"I'm not worrying about meeting him," he said ruefully. "I'm worrying
about that--"
The next instant the door leading to the hall opened and Robert
Stafford entered.