"I don't know what else to believe. Yes, I accept that. I don't believe
the dead have any right to talk and fool with the lives of the living
the way I've been fooled with and side-tracked." His voice was full of
fervor now. "I'm going to live my own life hereafter irrespective of the
dead--responsible only to the living. I will not be disciplined by
ghosts."
The girl laid the photographs down softly and looked at him with frank
admiration. "You're a very extraordinary young man," she said, sagely.
"No, I'm not!" he protested. "I'm just a good average. A week ago my
hottest ambition was to carry the Winona ball team to victory. If I had
the money and the courage I'd go back there to-morrow and finish my
course."
"What do you mean by courage?"
"Well, you know what I'd be loaded up with. To go back there now would
be the devil and all. Your article broke my peaceful combination just a
week ago last Sunday."
"But I have undone my work. I have vindicated your mother. You have a
right to be proud of her. She was as real a martyr as ever went to the
stake."
"I know, but I'll be a marked figure, all the same."
"You were a marked figure before. But consider all explanations have
been made--wait till you read my article. Go back!" she insisted. "I
wish you would." Her voice was rich with pleading. "It would make me
happy. I feel horribly guilty--really I do. I'm only a grubbing
reporter-person--I've had to earn my way and keep house for my
grandmother besides; but I'd gladly share my salary to help you return
to college. Please go back--it will relieve my mind of a big burden."
He took her hand in the spirit in which it was offered. "I am within a
few days of graduation, but--"
"Please go back--for the sake of a poor little newspaper wretch who
feels that she has indirectly spoiled your career." She pressed his hand
fervidly. "Promise me this and you'll take a monstrous load off my
shoulders."
She had the face, the temperament of the actress, and loved to
experiment on the hearts of men; but she was deeply in earnest now.
Bartol and Stinchfield had really changed her point of view as regards
Mrs. Ollnee, and this "situation" appealed to her at the moment with
irresistible power. Life was to her a drama, intense, never-ending,
romantic, and at the moment she loved this splendid young man orphaned
by her hand.
He could not resist her caressing voice, her appealing eyes, her
sensitive lips, and he said, "I promise."
"Thank you," she said, and, dropping his hand, she lifted burning yet
tearful eyes to his face. "You are very generous."