THE WAY OF A MAID WITH A MAID
The Duke found his grandson in an anteroom where the half dozen excited,
wondering men had conveyed him.
The old man and the young man stood for a few moments and gazed at each
other. Harlan was breathless, disheveled, his knuckles were bleeding.
"Where is she?"
The Duke came close to him. "She went away. Now keep your mouth closed.
You talk about disgracing a girl," he muttered in his grandson's ear;
"if you haven't disgraced her and yourself and all of us here to-day it
isn't because you haven't done your best! God only knows why I didn't
leave you in the woods where you belong!"
"I'm going out to find her," insisted his grandson. "This is my own
business from now on."
"You try to leave this room in the shape you're in and I'll have you
committed to the insane asylum across the river. The girl has more sense
than you've got."
While he was speaking Presson came in. He pulled the House bill from his
pocket.
"Thornton," he said, walking up to Harlan, "I didn't think there could
be anything more important just now than the damnable performance you've
just been through and the part my family plays in it. But here's
something I propose to take while it's hot!" He shook the document at
the young man. Harlan swept it out of his grasp before he could prevent,
and buttoned it in his breast-pocket.
"That is mine," he stated, not flinching under the indignant protest.
"If it's yours will you inform me what you intend to do with it?"
"I intend to introduce it in the House at to-morrow's session and work
for its passage."
"He's got a bill there," roared the chairman, turning to the Duke,
"that's written by the Devil himself! It makes old Waymouth archfiend of
all the ramrodders in this State! Our sheriffs are made his deputies and
the Russian Tsar becomes a hog-reeve beside him." He blurted out the
purport of the measure, garnishing the recital with good, round oaths.
"So you're loaded with that, are you?" inquired the elder Thornton. He
was as careless of the presence of the listeners as the chairman had
been. He began invective, but the young man broke in.
"Grandfather," he said, firmly, "I've listened long enough to that kind
of talk from you and Mr. Presson--I've listened to all kinds of reasons
why a man should come here and sell his soul for the sake of getting
ahead in politics." He was thinking of the temptation that had come to
him in the form of Madeleine Presson. "I don't want any more of it. I
don't know of any reason why this State shouldn't obey its laws so long
as they remain laws. As to my private business, I suggest that the two
of you keep still."
They had no appetite for further discourse with this young madman just
then.
The Duke turned on his heel and walked out. Presson followed.
"Gentlemen," said the young man to those who remained, "I have no
quarrel with you. I do not want any. Do you understand?" He wiped his
hands with his handkerchief, smoothed his hair, and walked past them.
As calmly as he could he hurried through the lobbies and the rotunda of
the State House. The crowds were thinning. The band had gone. The women
had scattered to prepare for the ball of the evening. Among the few that
were left he could not find her.
He went back to his committee-room and pondered until dusk fell.
One matter presented itself to his mood as a duty. He called a carriage
and was driven to the Presson home.
Madeleine came down in answer to his card. But as she entered the
reception-room her father followed at her heels, beginning threats as he
came in.
"Father," she said, quietly, "I have just listened to you. You need not
fear that I do not understand myself and my duty. I ask you to retire."
He stood there a moment, still muttering his wrathful protest, but in
the end her dignity mastered him. He went away.
What she did next amazed the young man who stood there waiting. She came
to him and patted his cheek.
"My poor boy," she said, softly, and drew him down beside her on a
couch.
For a moment the words he had come prepared to say deserted him. He
could not speak. He found sincere compassion in her eyes--sympathy and
something else which he did not fathom.
"I can do at least one decent thing to-day," he burst out. "I can come
to you man-fashion and ask you to release me from our engagement of this
evening. I know, of course, you wouldn't go to the ball with me after
what has happened. But there's a deeper reason. I am going to tell it to
you. Don't misunderstand me. I don't know the right words to use. Any
way I put it may sound as though I were a cad. But understand me,
Madeleine--as my friend, understand me--for God's sake, do! You have
been wise. You have counselled me. I need a friend now!" His voice
broke, and she waited. "I've come to my senses. Oh, it's no discredit to
you that I thought I loved you. I thought so."
"Your love would honor any woman, Harlan."
He looked at her piteously. He understood how his confession would
sound. Only his resolve to be honest with her availed to drive him to
the confession he intended to make.
"I couldn't say it to some girls," he cried. "They would not see how it
was. But I can only tell you the truth!"
"Wait a moment," she said, interrupting. "You are not just yourself. Let
me talk to you. Only a little while ago a girl came to me."
He started up, but she restrained him.
"Listen! She had heard. There were plenty to tell her when she asked. We
have given occasion for gossip. Gossip has eyes and ears and good
imagination. It has even been reported that our engagement would be
announced after the legislative ball. Wait! She heard all that from the
first one she asked. She has told me so. She believes it!"
"Believes it! What did you tell her?"
"Wait, I say! I have shown patience this afternoon. I waited for her to
speak. Let me tell you what she said while I waited. She said she wanted
you to be a great man. She knew, so she told me, that she only brought
trouble and distress to you. She wanted to see me so that she might know
if I were the one who could help you in your career. I'll not tell you
what she said to me about myself. She is a sweet and gracious girl, that
little Clare, Harlan! She said she knew I could help you in your work in
life. And she wanted to tell me the little story of you two--she wanted
to forestall gossip that might hurt you in my eyes. And she gave you to
me. Harlan, I have heard of that kind of love--but I didn't believe it
existed. Did you?"
Tears were on his cheeks.
"I know her!" he choked.
She understood his answer. She waited a little while.
"And I love her above all the honors and treasures of this world!"
She stood up.
"I'm going to find her," he went on. "You understand me, don't you,
Madeleine?"
"I understand. But you shall not go to find her"--she smiled into his
startled eyes--"for she is hidden in my room, waiting to tell me
more--waiting until I tell her something that will take the burden from
her heart. I had been listening to her when my father came in with his
story; I had not made my confession. It would have comforted her--it
will comfort her, for I can tell her truthfully I have not yet met the
man I can love, Harlan--you were not the one!" She left with him the
consolation of a smile and hastened away. She did not even reproach him
because of his affair with Linton.
He stood waiting at the door. He heard the steps on the stairs. He was
ready to clasp her.
But Madeleine Presson came in alone. "The girl has gone, Harlan. The
maid said she ran away after I left her. I was a fool. I dropped your
card!"
He stood dumb and motionless.
"Gone, believing that!" he gasped.
She shook him. "But you can find her. Remember that she is young. She
believed gossip too quickly. You must find her. Hurry! She will only
have to see your eyes to know that they all lied."
He rushed to the door.
"Bring her to me," cried the girl. "I'll know how to help you."
At the railroad station he was told that the special trains had gone
with the visitors who were not in town for the ball.
He did not even know the name of the school from which she had come.
At the State House he at last found some one who had seen and known the
group--an attaché of the State educational department. There was no
train that way until midnight. He took it. How he passed the time of
waiting he never knew. He was at the doors of the institution as early
as decency permitted. He did not wish to compromise her.
He was assured in a manner that left no room for doubt that Miss
Kavanagh had not returned with the others. They were much worried and
had notified her father.
Harlan sent an appealing telegram to him, daring even to solicit that
ogre of the North. But no word came to him.
He wired orders to his caretaker at "The Barracks" to investigate at
that end, and returned to the State capital, distracted, baffled, not
knowing what step to take next. The session had not closed for the day
when he arrived at the State House.
Men in the lobby stared at him as he passed. It was evident that tongues
had been busy with his affairs. His grandfather, striding up and down,
tried to intercept him, but he kept on to his seat. All the eyes of the
House were on him. Word of the "Thornton Bill" had gone abroad. Now, in
spite of his mental distress, he remembered his duty.
When he rose to ask the privilege of introducing a bill, interrupting
the order of business, he anticipated objection.
No objection was made.
The opposition did not propose to waste effort on pettifogging
preliminaries.
The bill went in and on its way--and that night the capital buzzed with
the discussion of it.
Harlan Thornton spent half the night at the telegraph-office, his mind
intent on something far from prospective legislation.
But no word came to comfort him--no clew that he could pursue.
Days grew into weeks. He did not attempt search in person. It would have
been vague wandering about the country. He remained to hold up the hands
of Governor Waymouth, finding relish for fight in the rancor that
settled within him.
He and Linton silently faced the gossip that beat about them in regard
to their encounter--and kept away from each other. Theirs was a balanced
account.
And Madeleine Presson somewhat ostentatiously permitted the attentions
of the young Secretary of State!