THE PROFESSOR'S BOOK.
For some weeks matters went on quietly at our boarding-house. Prof.
Poppendorf, in spite of the failure of his matrimonial schemes, ate,
smoked, and drank as tranquilly as ever. Ruth was grateful to him that
he had accepted her refusal as final, and disturbed her no more. They
still sat near each other at the table, but there was never anything in
his manner to indicate that there had been any romantic passages between
them.
The Disagreeable Woman remained as great a mystery as ever. Sometimes
she was absent for three or four days together. Then she would suddenly
reappear. No one ever asked where she had been. It would have taken rare
courage to do that. Nor did she ever volunteer any explanation.
Whether she possessed large means or not no one could conjecture. She
always paid her board bill, and with unfailing regularity, at the end of
every week. Her dress was always plain, but oftentimes of costly
material. She seldom indulged in conversation, though she was always
ready with an answer when spoken to. Perhaps I may mention as exceptions
to her general rule of reticence the young woman from Macy's and myself.
She seemed to feel more kindly toward us than toward any of the others.
There had been various attempts to find out where she lived. None had
succeeded. One day Mrs. Wyman asked the question directly.
"Where do you live, Miss Blagden, if you will allow me to ask?"
"I will allow you to ask," returned the Disagreeable Woman, coolly. "Do
you propose to call on me?"
"If you will permit me."
"It is hardly necessary. We meet at the table every day. I am a hermit,"
she added after a pause, "I do not care to receive visitors."
"I once heard of a hermit who lived in one of the cottages on the rocks
near Central Park," said the widow, rather impertinently.
"I don't live there!" said the Disagreeable Woman, composedly.
"Of course not. I did not suppose you did."
"Thank you. You are right as usual."
If Miss Blagden meant to be sarcastic, nothing in her tone revealed it.
She had warded off the attack dictated by curiosity.
Whether Miss Blagden was rich or not, she was always ready to contribute
to any public or private cause. When Prof. Poppendorf announced that he
was about to publish a book, enlarged from his lecture on "The Material
and The Immaterial." Miss Blagden subscribed for two copies.
"One is for you, Dr. Fenwick!" she said, in a low tone.
"Thank you, Miss Blagden. You are very kind. Am I expected to read it?"
"If you can," she responded with a grim smile.
The other boarders were asked, but each had some excuse.
"I have just bought a new hat," said Mrs. Wyman.
"I no understand English," said the Count.
"Do you think I ought to subscribe, Miss Blagden?" asked Ruth.
"No, child. Why should you? You have a use for your money. Besides, you
would not understand it. If you wish, I will buy one for you?"
"No, thank you, Miss Blagden. It would be of no use to me, but I
thought the Professor would think it friendly."
She could not explain that she wished to make amends for refusing his
suit, for she had with rare delicacy abstained from mentioning the
learned German's uncouth courtship. Perhaps Miss Blagden, who was very
observing, penetrated her motive, for she said: "There is something in
that. Subscribe, and I will pay for the book."
Upon this Ruth gently told the Professor that she would take a copy.
He was surprised and delighted.
"By all means Mees Ruth, but perhaps I should give you one."
"No, no, Prof. Poppendorf. I want to show my interest in you--and your
book."
"You are so good. I will give you the first copy."
"Thank you," said Ruth, shyly.
"What do you want of the old fossil's book?" asked Mrs. Wyman later,
when the Professor was out of hearing. "I suspect that you are in love
with the Professor."
"No, you don't suspect that," said Ruth, composedly.
"At any rate he seems struck with you."
"I suppose I am either material or immaterial," returned Ruth, laughing.
"You went to walk with him one evening."
"I am afraid you are jealous, Mrs. Wyman."
The widow laughed and the conversation ended.