"Now this indenture witnesseth,--comma,--that the said party of the
first part,--comma,--for the better securing the payment of the said sum
of money mentioned in the condition of the said bond or
obligation,--comma,--with interest thereon,--comma,--according to the
true intent and meaning thereof,--semicolon,--and also for and in
consideration of the sum of one dollar,--comma,--to him in hand well and
duly paid----"
Suddenly she halted and fingered the copy lying on the table at her
right.
"Twenty more pages--I can't do them now ..." she muttered half-aloud,
and crossing the room unsteadily, threw herself upon the bed--a cheap
bed that groaned and creaked as if it felt her weight upon it.
"... tired--I'm so tired," she moaned, as she lay there supinely for
some time. All of a sudden, she sat bolt upright in bed, for the sound
of a timid knock on the door had reached her ears; but thinking,
perhaps, that she had been dreaming, she waited until the knock was
repeated, and only then did she cry out:--
"Well? What is it?"
There was no answer. A moment more, and she was at the door confronting
a man and a woman, both gaily caparisoned. They stood hand in hand,
sheepishly, smilingly, the woman looking more like some guilty child,
who was being brought to task by an over-indulgent parent. For a brief
second, that seemed interminably long to Mrs. Challoner waiting for them
to speak, they stood thus; and it was not until they called her name
that she recognised them.
"Mrs. Challoner--we thought--" they stammered in chorus.
"Why, it's Stevens," Mrs. Challoner broke in, at last, "and you too,
Foster!" and the colour instantly went flying from her lips to her
cheeks.
"Yes, ma'am," again came in chorus from Stevens and Foster, late butler
and lady's maid to Mrs. Challoner, and still hand in hand.
"Oh, Mrs. Challoner," then spoke up Foster, "what do you think? We've
gone and got married!"
"Married? Foster! Stevens! Why, yes, of course, you do look like bride
and groom," said Mrs. Challoner, her heart for the moment sinking at all
this happiness; and then: "Come in, and do tell me all about it."
"Mrs. Challoner," quickly put in Stevens, as they came into the room,
"she pestered me 'till I had to marry her--there was no getting rid of
her."
A faint smile crossed Miriam's face, and soon she found herself entering
into the happiness of this couple, just as she would have done in the
old days; and so well did they succeed in making her forget her present
position, that she was actually trying to determine what would be a most
appropriate and, at the same time, a most pleasing gift to them.
Absorbed, therefore, in her laudable perplexities, it was quite a long
time before she fully realised that there were but two chairs, a fact
which had not escaped the eyes of these well-trained servants, who still
remained standing in the centre of the room; and when, at last, the
truth dawned upon her, it was with the greatest difficulty that she kept
back the tears, as half-coaxingly, half-authoritatively she prevailed
upon the terribly embarrassed pair to occupy them, while she seated
herself on the edge of the bed.
"Yes, ma'am," resumed Foster, determined to tell all there was to tell,
"there were about six men that I could have married as well as not--not
like Stevens, but big, fine-looking men, every one of them. But Stevens
here got in such a way about it, that I felt sorry for him, and I gave
them all the go-by for him. But there's one thing certain," she
concluded with a sigh, "I didn't marry for good looks, nor for money
either, for that matter."
"You married for love, Foster, and that is so much better," commented
Mrs. Challoner, revelling in their joy.
"I dare say," conceded Foster, "that I'll come to love him in time."
"Yes, ma'am," put in Stevens, eager to get in a word, "she bothered me
until I finally succumbed, though my tastes were--well, ma'am, I must
admit that I like 'em a little plumper."
To Miriam Challoner, it was indeed a treat to hear their good-natured
banter. Presently she asked with interest:--
"What are you doing now, Stevens?"
"He's a _sho_fer, ma'am," spoke up Foster quickly with pride.
"A what?" inquired Mrs. Challoner.
"A show_fure_, ma'am," corrected Stevens with dignity. "She'll learn in
time.... I'm working for Bernhardt, the brewer--a hundred dollars a
month, ma'am."
"Indeed! So you're a chauffeur, and earning one hundred dollars a
month!" exclaimed Miriam Challoner. "Why that's fine!" And a hundred
dollars never seemed larger to any one's eyes.