"He told me once that it cost over half a million dollars in this state
to be chosen Senator. Well, he's got the money, anyway----"
Miriam raised her eyebrows.
"He told you that?"
"Yes--before he got the money."
Mrs. Challoner deprecated.
"Shirley, aren't you hard on Murgatroyd? He's a man of character in the
city," and she poised her needle in the air and glanced at the girl in a
quizzical way. "I think," she went on slowly, "that I understand
Murgatroyd. I think he's a man who could go wrong once, and only once."
Shirley shrugged her shoulders. But whatever may have been her opinion
to the contrary, she was prevented from expressing it by the sound of
approaching footsteps on the stairs.
"Not a word of Murgatroyd," whispered Miriam quickly.
"It must be Laurie," thought the girl to herself, and sprang up like a
frightened hare. The next moment the door opened, and Lawrence Challoner
came into the room.
Dressed in rough, clean, business clothes, he was as different from the
Challoner of five years before as she could imagine. This man was
strong, healthy, with a ruddy flush upon his face. He had the appearance
of being a bit heavier, but better set up. He looked solid, respectable.
In fact, he looked so good that it was a willing hand that went out to
him in greeting.
"Well, this is a pleasure that is a pleasure," said Shirley, smiling. "I
need not ask how you are, Laurie, for you're the picture of health."
"And you, Shirley--why, you never looked better," and he looked at his
wife for a confirmation of his words. "What have you been doing with
yourself all these years...." The tide of his words receded there,
leaving his eyes stranded upon hers. The same thought came
simultaneously to them both.
Miriam's happiness at their spontaneous greeting was good to see.
"If I dared, I'd kiss you," Laurie went on, laughing good-naturedly; but
he compromised on his wife, who had been holding, all this time, the bit
of fancy work on which she sewed. Suddenly she glanced down at it.
"Oh," she said, conscience stricken, and running across the room,
hurriedly thrust it into a closet. Challoner watched her in surprise;
and when she returned, he put his arm about her and kissed her once
again.
"So much happiness," commented Shirley, with a pretty little pout, "and
poor me...."
Challoner laughed.
"Oh, we'll have to look after you, Shirley! I've got a dozen likely
chaps down at the works--Americans, too. Real men, every one of
them--men who work with their hands."
"The works?" Shirley looked in astonishment, first at one, and then the
other. "Oh, the selfish jades we've been--Miriam and I have talked about
every man in creation but you! Aren't you ashamed, Miriam? I am!" She
drew up her chair, and settling herself back comfortably into it, turned
to Challoner and went on excitedly:--"Now tell me about yourself."
"We've saved five hundred dollars," began Miriam, answering for him.
"And----"
"Five hundred dollars!" interrupted Shirley, entering completely into
the spirit of things. "How did you ever do it?"