“That’s what made the boss’s idea reasonable to me,” he explained. “She
couldn’t conceive why you should keep silent, and so was ready to pitch
into you on the slightest pretense. Women haven’t much use for a man
who falls in love and doesn’t say so. But of course I knew that your
debt put marriage out of the question.”
I merely nodded my head, for even to him I could not speak of my love
for you, it was so sacred to me.
He drew up a chair to the fire, and continued: “There isn’t another man
to whom I’d care to say what I’m going to say to you, but you’ve got a
heart and a head both, and won’t misunderstand me.” He finished his
glass, and set it on the mantel. “Now I don’t have to tell you that the
boss is fond of you, and when I told her that I knew of a reason why
you couldn’t marry, she forgave you on the spot. What’s more, she first
wished to learn what it was; and failing in that, she then wanted to
know if it could be remedied, so that you might have a chance to win
the girl.”
“She of course knows nothing of my position?”
“No,” he said, “but she knows something of your character, and she’s
ordered me that, if it’s possible, I’m to help you get the girl you
care for.”
“But my debt!” I exclaimed.
“How much is it now?” he queried.
“One hundred and eighteen thousand.”
“Well, I’ll lend Agnes’s husband one hundred and eighteen thousand
dollars at three per cent, and leave her the note when I die. From what
I know of marriage, I venture to assert that if she squeezes him for
payment it will be his own fault.”
I sat speechless for a moment, too bewildered by the unexpected turn to
even think.
“I was as surprised as you look,” he went on, “for although I had seen
that you and Agnes”—
“Indeed, Mr. Blodgett,” I exclaimed hastily, “I am no more to Miss
Agnes than a dozen of her friends! I”—
“So the boss says,” he interrupted. “But that doesn’t mean that you
can’t be. Though to speak the truth, my boy,” he continued, resting his
hand on my knee, “this wasn’t my plan. I had hoped that you and Maizie
would take a shine to each other, and so kiss the chalk-marks off that
old score. But when I spoke of the scheme to the boss, this evening,
she told me there had never been a chance of it; that you didn’t like
Mai, and that she is practically engaged to Whitely, and is only—Better
have some more whiskey, or that cough will shake you to pieces.”
I could only shake my head in my misery, but after a moment I was able
to say, “Mr. Blodgett, I did not understand—I”—
“I want to tell you,” he broke in, “before you say anything more, that
I never believe in putting one’s fingers into love affairs, and I
shouldn’t in this case if the boss didn’t feel so keen about it, but I
don’t choose to be the one to stand in her way. And now I’m not
offering my daughter’s hand. You know as well as I that Agnes isn’t the
kind of girl who needs a prospectus or a gold clause to work her off.
If she dropped her handkerchief to-morrow, fifty men would be
scrambling for it, eh?”
“Yes.” Then I added, “And, Mr. Blodgett, I can’t find the words to tell
how I thank you both for such a compliment. If”—
“I knew you wouldn’t misunderstand me,” he went on. “It’s a good deal
of a start in life to be born a gentleman.”
“But, Mr. Blodgett,” I said, “there has been a mistake. I—it is hard to
say, but”—then I faltered.
He looked at me keenly for a moment. “So the boss was wrong? It’s only
friendship, not love?”
“Just what she has given to me,” I answered.
“Very well. Then if you want to please the boss—and me—let that
friendship grow into something better. But don’t misunderstand me. You
must win Agnes, if she is won. We do nothing.”
“Mr. Blodgett, should you be willing to let me try to win Miss Agnes,
if I tell you that I do not love her as a man should love the woman he
seeks for his wife?”
“Marriage is a funny business,” he responded. “Now there’s the boss.
When I married her I thought she was so and so; little by little I
found she wasn’t; but by the time I had found it out I wouldn’t have
swapped her for ten of the women I had thought she was. Some men have
no business to marry unless they’re pretty strongly attached, for they
don’t run steady; but you’re a fellow that would keep in the traces no
matter what happened, and before long you’d find yourself mighty fond
of Agnes. A sense of duty is about as good a basis to marry on, if
there’s natural sympathy and liking, as all this ideal make-believe. I
don’t think you dislike Agnes, do you?”
“Indeed, no!” I exclaimed. “Nobody could. She is too charming and sweet
for any one to do that. Miss Agnes deserves far more than I can bring
her. What have I to give in return for all this?”
“You can settle that with Agnes,” he laughed; and then, as if to lessen
my poverty in my own eyes, he kindly added, “In the first place, I’ll
get a son-in-law chock-full of heart and grit and brains; and I’ve had
pretty good evidence that he isn’t fortune-hunting, which is Agnes’s
great danger. But that isn’t all, and I want you to know I’m not a
fool. I’m a big fellow down in Wall Street, and even on the Royal
Exchange, but do you think I don’t know my position? They kept me up
over two years at the Philomathean, and you four months. After you’ve
worked ten years over books with your own name on them, you’ll be
received and kotowed to by people who wouldn’t crook a finger to know
me. You won’t be famous as I am, for the number of naughts I can write
after a figure, but your name will be known everywhere, and will be
familiar long after mine has been forgotten. Who were the bankers and
rich men fifty years ago? There isn’t one person in a thousand can tell
you. But who hasn’t heard of Thackeray and Hawthorne, Macaulay and
Motley? My girl will have more money than she’ll need; so if she gets a
good husband, and one with reputation, she can’t do better. Don’t you
see I’m doing my level best for Agnes, and making a regular Jew
bargain?”
“Perhaps Miss Agnes will not agree.”
“We’ve got to take that chance; but she likes you, and good women think
a heap more of brains than they do of money. If you’ll let me tell her
your story, it won’t be long before she’ll take notice. I shouldn’t
have had to ask the boss twice if I’d had any such trump card as you’ve
got, and she was a sight less tender-hearted than Agnes!”
“Mr. Blodgett,” I said, “I can’t tell you the gratitude I feel, but I
must be frank.”
“Hold on!” he cried. “I don’t want you to say anything now. You are to
take a week on it, and not give me your answer till the end. If you
have half the gratitude in you that you pretend, you’ll do as the boss
wants.”
I had manned myself to tell him of my love for you, but I bowed assent,
for indeed, I was too bewildered to think clearly, and was glad to have
a respite. We shook hands without further parley, and I came back here,
to cough and shiver while trying to think it all out. An hour ago I
went to bed, but I was wakeful, and so sit here trying to write myself
into sleepiness.
I have thought out what my course must be. If it is true, as indeed I
know it to be, that Mr. Whitely has won you, Mr. Blodgett shall have
the truth. I shall tell him that I will put you out of my heart, as
perforce I must, and that if he is still willing I will go to Agnes,
tell her too the whole truth, and promise her such love and devotion as
I can give. So sweet a girl deserves far more, and I cannot believe
that she will accept the little I can offer; but if she does, it shall
be the labor of my life to be to her a true and tender husband. And
even if she were not what she is, the thought that through her I have
made reparation for the wrong done you will make easy both tenderness
and love for her.
For the last time, perhaps, I have the right to say, “Good-night, my
love.”