The poor idiot had made up his mind to throw himself on Minnie’s mercy,
to confide in her, and he did.
“I can’t stand it!” he told her. “It’s too much--it’s breaking her
heart. And it’s--too much for me. Sensible or not, it doesn’t matter.
You’re a woman, you ought to understand. I--I beg you to help us.
To--have pity. I ... I’m not much good at talking--but if you knew how
I--care for Frankie, and what she is to me.... We--it’s not right, by
Jove! It’s not _right_ for us to be separated. I’m no good without her.
I need her. If I have her with me, I’m sure I can amount to something.
But not alone. I’m no good without her,” he repeated.
In the twilight he couldn’t see her face, but her voice, when she
replied, was not unsympathetic.
“I’ll see,” she said, “I’ll think.”
“No!” he answered, with unusual decision, “Please decide now. I can’t
wait. I can’t stand another night. If you’ll lend me five dollars more,
I’ll go to her to-morrow morning.”
“I haven’t got it now. I don’t get my week’s salary until to-morrow.”
“And you’ll let me have it then?”
“I--oh, yes, I will!” she answered, with a sort of sob.
“You’re a brick--Minnie!” he cried, joyfully, and seized her warm little
hand. “Sister Minnie! I won’t forget this!” And hastened off to send a
telegram to Frankie.
“_Coming to-morrow._ LIONEL.”
Minnie walked home very slowly. In the evenings she always played cards
with the old lady from the time when she woke up from her after-dinner
nap until eleven. This evening was just as usual. During the nap, which
was never mentioned, Minnie sat looking over the morning paper, a
decorous and sober little figure; then, when the querulous old voice
suggested a game, she rose with well-paid cheerfulness, brought out the
pack and the folding table, played conscientiously and amiably, led the
old lady upstairs at the proper time, said “Good-night,” fetched her a
glass of water, and then was free.
She retired to her own little room, locked the door after her, and stood
still in the dark, with clenched hands.
“She shan’t have him!” she whispered. “I won’t give him up! I won’t! I
won’t!”
Lionel didn’t suspect the effect his innocent grey eyes had had upon
that heart, never before touched! But _she_ had been fully aware, from
the first time she had seen him. It was too startling and intense a
feeling to be mistaken. She had made up her mind then. He was the one
man on earth for her. She had never even fancied herself in love before,
and never did again. It was her unique passion.
She didn’t deceive herself. She admitted that she intended to get Lionel
away from Frankie by hook or by crook. Of course, being Minnie, she felt
that it would be for his good and for Frankie’s good, and that she was
doing it largely for their sakes. She and she alone was the infallible
judge of what was best for everyone on earth. She had no misgivings on
that score. Her only anxiety lay in her knowledge that Lionel was not at
all attracted by her, and that, left to himself, he never would be. She
wasn’t the sort of woman he liked.
Her original intention, when she had seen ample time ahead, had been to
enlist old Mrs. Lounsbury on her side, to make everything very correct,
very regular, in contrast to Frankie’s wildness. And then, later, to
hold out prospects, all sorts of alluring prospects, of assistance from
the old lady, of an unassailable “position” in their married life, of
respectability and money, which she had seen that he coveted. For, like
all women who can “manage” men, Minnie had an unerring flair for the
weak point; that being the pivot upon which they may most easily be
swung. She knew what she was doing when she asked Lionel to tea. She had
first carefully prepared her aunt with stories, wholly fictitious, of
his social standing and eligibility, and his affection for herself. She
knew that he would appreciate the atmosphere of money and solidity
there, and that it would reflect credit upon herself. The next step,
already arranged with her approving aunt, was an invitation to dinner.
But that wouldn’t serve now, if he were going to be so impetuous. She
would have to work quickly. If he saw Frankie again, or had many more
letters from her, all would be lost. A desperate step was necessary, and
she took it.