With a sigh of intense relief, Laura sank utterly exhausted into the
armchair which Brockton had vacated.
Everything had come so suddenly that the girl's brain was all awhirl.
John might arrive any moment. She must decide at once on what was to be
done. What could she say to him? How much did she wish to say; how much
would he believe? Was it possible that Providence had relented, and
that, after all, she was to be truly happy, marry the only man she had
ever truly, unselfishly loved, and still have all those luxuries which
she could not live without? John was now a rich man. That made all the
difference in the world. It would not make her love him any the more,
but, as a rich man's wife, as _his_ wife, she knew she would be truly
happy. She might have married him, even if he had been unsuccessful and
returned to her penniless, but would their happiness have lasted, could
their love have survived all the hardships which poverty brings in its
train? Of course, she could not tell him about Brockton. He was not the
kind of man she dare tell it to. He would never forgive her; he might
even kill her. No, she must go on lying to the end, until she was
safely married, and then she would turn over a new leaf altogether.
While she sat there, her elbows between her knees, her chin on her
hands, engrossed in thought, Annie entered and began to dust the room.
Laura watched her in moody silence for a few minutes. Then she said:
"Annie!"
"Yassum."
"Do you remember in the boarding-house--when we finally packed up--what
you did with everything?"
"Yassum."
"You remember that I used to keep a pistol?"
"Yo' mean dat one yo' say dat gemman out West gave yuh once?"
"Yes."
"Yassum, Ah 'membuh it."
"Where is it now?"
"Last Ah saw of it was in dis heah draw' in de writin'-desk."
Crossing to the other side of the room, the negress opened the desk and
began to fumble among a lot of old papers. Finally she drew out a
small, thirty-two calibre revolver, which she held out gingerly.
"Is dis it?"
Laura turned and looked.
"Yes," she said quickly. "Put it back. I thought that perhaps it was
lost."
Annie had no sooner replaced the weapon in the drawer when the front
door-bell rang. Laura turned pale and started to her feet. Could that
be John? Instinctively, she gathered her negligee gown closer to her
frail, trembling figure, and, hurrying to the mirror, put those little
finishing touches to her hair which no woman, jealous of her personal
appearance, would think of neglecting, even though the house was on
fire. She was so unstrung and agitated that she could hardly stand; she
had to hold the table with one hand to maintain her balance. She could
not articulate; her voice stuck in her throat.
"See--who--that is--and let me know," she gasped.
"Yassum."
The maid went out into the private hall and opened the door.
Immediately was heard the voice of Elfie St. Clair.
"Hello, Annie. Folks in?"
"Yassum; she's in."
Laura breathed more freely, and ran to greet her friend, who bounced
in, smiling and good-natured. Elfie was beautifully gowned in a morning
dress, with an over-abundance of trimmings and all the furbelows that
generally accompany the extravagant raiment affected by women of her
type. Advancing effusively, she exclaimed:
"Hello, dearie!"
"Hello, Elfie!" said Laura, unable to conceal how genuinely glad she
was to see her friend.
"It's a bully day out," said Elfie, looking at herself in the mirror.
"I've been shopping all morning long; just blew myself until I'm broke,
that's all. My goodness, don't you ever get dressed? Listen--talk about
cinches! I copped out a gown, all ready made. It fits me like the paper
on the wall for thirty-seven and one-half dollars. Looks like it might
have cost $200. Anyway, I had them charge $200 on the bill, and I kept
the change. There are two or three more down there, and I want you to
go down and look them over. Models, you know, being sold out. My--how
you look this morning! You've got great black circles round your eyes.
I don't blame you for not getting up earlier."
Sitting down at the table without noticing Laura further, she rattled
on:
"That was some party last night! I know you didn't drink a great deal,
but gee! what an awful tide Will had on! How do you feel?" Stopping
short in her prattle, and looking at her friend, she exclaimed with
concern: "What's the matter, are you sick? You look all in. What you
want to do is this--put on your duds and go out for an hour. It's a
perfectly grand day out. My Gaud! How the sun does shine! Clear and
cold. Well, much obliged for the conversation. Don't I get a
'Good-morning,' or a 'How-dy-do,' or a something of that sort?"
"I'm tired, Elfie, and blue--terribly blue."
The caller rose, and, going up to her friend, said:
"Well, now, you just brace up and cut out all that emotional stuff. I
came down to take you for a drive. You'd like it; just through the
park. Will you go?"
"Not this morning, dear; I'm expecting somebody."
"A man?"
In spite of herself, Laura could not restrain a smile.
"No--a gentleman," she corrected.
"Same thing. Do I know him?"
"I think you do."
"Well, don't be so mysterious. Who is he?"
Ignoring the question, Laura asked anxiously:
"What is your time, Elfie?"
The girl looked at her watch. "Five minutes past eleven."
"I'm slow," exclaimed Laura. "I didn't know it was so late. Just excuse
me, won't you, while I get some clothes on. He may be here any moment."
Going to the end of the room, where the heavy _portieres_ separated the
parlor from the sitting-room, she called out: "Annie!"
"Who is it?" insisted Elfie.
"I'll tell you when I get dressed. Make yourself at home, won't you,
dear?"
"I'd sooner hear," replied Elfie. "What is the scandal, anyway?"
"I'll tell you in a moment," laughed Laura; "just as soon as Annie gets
through with me."
She went out, leaving her visitor alone. Elfie, left to herself,
wandered about the room. Finding a candy box on the desk, she helped
herself to the sugared contents. Aloud, she said:
"Do you know, Laura, I think I'll go back on the stage?"
"Yes?" came the answer from the inner room.
"Yes," went on Elfie, "I'm afraid I'll have to. I think I need a sort
of a boost to my popularity."
"How a boost?"
"I think Jerry is getting cold feet. He's seeing a little too much of
me nowadays."
"What makes you think that?"
"I think he is getting a relapse of that front-row habit. There's no
use in talking, Laura, it's a great thing for a girl's credit when a
man like Jerry can take two or three friends to the theatre, and when
you make your entrance delicately point to you with his forefinger, and
say: 'The third one from the front on the left belongs to muh.' The old
fool's hanging around some of these musical comedies lately, and I'm
getting nervous every time rent day comes."
Laura laughed incredulously. She had too high an opinion of her
friend's business ability to believe the danger very serious.
Pointedly, she said:
"Oh, I guess you'll get along all right."
Elfie rose, and, going to the mirror, gave her hat and hair a few deft
little touches, after which she surveyed herself critically. With
serene self-satisfaction, she said:
"Oh, that's a cinch! But I like to leave well enough alone, and if I
had to make a change right now it would require a whole lot of thought
and attention, to say nothing of the inconvenience, and I'm so nicely
settled in my flat." Suddenly her eye lighted on the pianola. Going to
it, she exclaimed: "Say, dearie, when did you get the piano-player? I
got one of them phonographs, but this has got that beat a city block.
How does it work? What did it cost?"
"I don't know," laughed Laura.
"Well, Jerry's got to stake me to one of these." Looking over the rolls
on top, she mumbled to herself: "Tannhauser, William Tell, Chopin."
Louder, she said: "Listen, dear. Ain't you got anything else except all
this high-brow stuff?"
"What do you want?"
"Oh, something with a regular tune to it." Looking at the empty box on
the pianola, she exclaimed: "Oh, here's one; just watch me tear this
off."
The roll was the ragtime tune of "_Bon-Bon Buddy--My Chocolate Drop_."
She started to play. Pushing wide open the _tempo_ lever she worked the
pedals with the ingenuous delight and enthusiasm of a child.
"Ain't it grand?" she cried.
"Gracious, Elfie, don't play so loud!" exclaimed Laura, who reentered.
"What's the matter?"
Her visitor stopped playing. Smiling, she explained:
"I shoved over that thing marked 'swell.' I sure will have to speak to
Jerry about this. I'm stuck on this 'swell' thing. Hurry up!" Noticing
Laura's white, anxious-looking face, she exclaimed sympathetically:
"Gee! you look pale! I'll just bet you and Will had a fight. He always
gets the best of you, doesn't he, dearie? Listen. Don't you think you
can ever get him trained? I almost threw Jerry down the stairs the
other night, and he came right back with a lot of American beauties and
a cheque. I told him if he didn't look out, I'd throw him downstairs
every night. He's getting too d----d independent, and it's got me
nervous." Sinking into a seat, she exclaimed, with a sigh: "Oh, dear, I
s'pose I will have to go back on the stage."
"In the chorus?" inquired Laura quietly.
Elfie looked up in mock indignation.
"Well, I should say not. I'm going to give up my musical career.
Charlie Burgess is putting on a new play, and he says he has a part in
it for me if I want to go back. It isn't much, but very important--sort
of a pantomime part. A lot of people talk about me and just at the
right moment I walk across the stage and make an awful hit. I told
Jerry that if I went on he'd have to come across with one of those
Irish crochet lace gowns. He fell for it. Do you know, dearie, I think
he'd sell out his business just to have me back on the stage for a
couple of weeks, just to give box parties every night for my entrance
and exits."
Laura went over to the sofa, picked up the candy box, placed it on the
desk, and took the telegram from the table. Then, taking her friend by
the hand, she led her over to the sofa.
"Elfie," she said seriously.
"Yes, dear."
"Come over here and sit down."
"What's up?"
"Do you know what I'm going to ask of you?"
Elfie took a seat opposite. With a wry face, she said:
"If it's a touch, you'll have to wait until next week."
"No," smiled Laura; "just a little advice."
Her friend looked relieved.
"Well, that's cheap," she laughed; "and the Lord knows you need it.
What's happened?"
Laura took the crumpled and torn telegram which Brockton had left on
the table, and handed it to her companion. Elfie put the two pieces
together, and read it very carefully. When she reached the middle of
the despatch she gave an exclamation of surprise and looked up quickly
at her companion. Then, finishing it, she laid it down.
"Well?" she demanded.
Rather at a loss how to explain, Laura flushed and stammered:
"Will suspected. There was something in the paper about Mr.
Madison--the telegram came--then we had a row."
"Serious?"
"Yes. Do you remember what I told you about that letter--the one Will
made me write--I mean to John--telling him what I had done?"
"Yes, you burned it."
"I tried to lie to Will--he wouldn't have it that way. He seemed to
know. He was furious."
"Did he hit you?"
"No, he made me admit that John didn't know, and then he said he'd stay
here and tell him himself that I'd made him lie, and he said something
about liking the other man and wanting to save him."
"Save him?" exclaimed Elfie derisively. "Shucks! He's jealous!"
"I told him if he'd only go I'd--tell John myself when he came, and
now, you see, I'm waiting--and I've got to tell--and--and I don't know
how to begin--and--and I thought you could help me--you seem so sort of
resourceful, and it means--it means so much to me. If John turned on me
now I couldn't go back to Will, and, Elfie--I don't think I'd care
to--stay here any more."
"What!" exclaimed Elfie.
Impulsively, she took Laura in her arms.
"Dearie," she said earnestly, "get that nonsense out of your head and
be sensible. I'd just like to see any two men who could make me think
about--well--what you seem to have in your mind."
"But I don't know what to do," went on Laura. "Can't you see, Elfie, I
don't know what to do. If I don't tell him, Will will come back and
he'll tell him. I know John, and maybe----" Fearfully she added: "Do
you know, I think John would kill him!"
"Nonsense!" laughed the girl. "Don't waste your time worrying about
that. Now, let's get down to cases. We haven't much time. Business is
business, and love is love. You're long on love, and I'm long on
business, and, between the two of us, we ought to straighten this thing
out. Now, evidently John is coming on here to marry you."
"Yes."
"And you love him?"
"Yes."
"And, as far as you know, the moment that he comes in here, it's quick
to the justice and a wedding?"
"Yes; but you see how impossible it is----"
"I don't see that anything is impossible. From all you've said to me
about this fellow, there is only one thing to do."
"What is that?"
"To get married--quick. You say he has the money, and you have the
love. You're sick of Brockton, and you want to switch and do it in the
decent, respectable, conventional way, and he's going to take you away.
Haven't you got sense enough to know that once you're married to Mr.
Madison that Will Brockton wouldn't dare go to him? Even if he did,
Madison wouldn't believe him. A man will believe a whole lot about his
girl, but nothing about his wife."
Laura turned and looked at her. There was a long pause.
"Elfie--I--I--don't think I could do that to John. I don't think--I
could deceive him."
Her companion made a gesture of impatience. Rising, she cried:
"You make me sick! You're only a novice! Lie to all men--they all lie
to you. Protect yourself. You seem to think that your happiness depends
on this. Now do it. Listen: Don't you realize that you and me, and all
the girls that are shoved into this life, are practically the common
prey of any man who happens to come along? Don't you know that they've
got about as much consideration for us as they have for any pet animal
around the house, and the only way that we've got it on the animal is
that we've got brains? This is a game, Laura, _not a sentiment_. Do you
suppose that Madison--now don't get sore--hasn't turned these tricks
himself before he met you, and I'll gamble he's done it since. A man's
natural trade is a heartbreaking business. Don't tell me about women
breaking men's hearts. The only thing they can ever break is their
bankroll. And, besides, this is not Will's business; he has no right to
interfere. You've been decent with him, and he's been nice to you; but
I don't think that he's given you any the best of it. Now, if you want
to leave, and go your own way, and marry any Tom, Dick or Harry that
you want to, it's nobody's affair but yours."
"But you don't understand--it's John. I can't lie to him," cried Laura.
"Well, that's too bad about you. I used to have that truthful habit
myself, and the best I ever got was the worst of it. All this talk
about love and loyalty and constancy is fine and dandy in a book, but
when a girl has to look out for herself, take it from me, whenever
you've got that trump card up your sleeve, just play it, and rake in
the pot." Taking Laura's hand, she added affectionately: "You know,
dearie, you're just about the only one in the world I've left to care
for."
"Elfie!" cried Laura, taking her companion's hand, sympathetically.
Her eyes filled with tears, Elfie put her handkerchief up to her face
to conceal her emotion. Under the coarseness and flippancy of the
courtesan were glimpses of an unhappy woman, a human being conscious of
her own irretrievable degradation. For the first time in years, she was
making another the confidant of her life's tragedy, the sad,
commonplace story of a woman's ruin. Recovering herself, she went on
quickly:
"Since I broke away from the folks up-State, and they've heard things,
there ain't any more letters coming to me with an Oswego postmark. Ma's
gone, and the rest don't care. You're all I've got in the world, Laura,
and I'm making you do this only because I want to see you happy. I was
afraid this complication would arise. The thing to do now is to grab
your happiness, no matter how you get it, nor where it comes from.
There ain't a whole lot of joy in this world for you and me and the
others we know, and what little you get you've got to take when you're
young, because when those gray hairs begin to show and the make-up
isn't going to hide the wrinkles, unless you're well fixed, it's going
to be h--ll. You know what a fellow doesn't know doesn't hurt him.
He'll love you just the same, and you'll love him. As for Brockton, let
him get another girl. There are plenty around. Why, if this chance came
to me, I'd tie a can to Jerry so quick that you could hear it rattle
all the way down Broadway!"
She rose, and, leaning over the back of Laura's chair, put her arms
lovingly around her neck. Tenderly, she said: "Promise me, dearie, that
you won't be a d----d fool. Will you promise?"
Laura looked up at her, and smiled faintly: "I promise."
Elfie took her gloves and parasol.
"Well, good-by, dear; I must be going. Ta-ta, dearie. Give my regards
to your charmer."
Laura accompanied her to the door.
"Good-by, dear."
Left alone, Laura returned to the parlor. Drawing aside the portieres
that shut off the maid's quarters, she called out:
"Annie!"
"Yassum!"
"I'm expecting a gentleman, Annie. When he comes, ask him in."