MR. PALMER'S INFATUATION.
In about twenty minutes Miss Churchill appeared. She was a stout young
lady, weighing at least one hundred and sixty pounds. She had a high
color, black hair, and a loud metallic voice.
Mr. Palmer surveyed her with rapt intensity.
"That's she!" he whispered. "Didn't I tell you she was a daisy?"
Robert was tempted to smile. He had a very indefinite idea of what
might be considered a feminine daisy, but he recognized his companion's
conception of the term.
Miss Churchill sang in a loud voice and with plenty of action one of
the popular songs of the day. Livingston Palmer looked the picture
of rapture. With his head thrown back and his eyes fastened upon his
charmer, he could hardly fail to attract her attention.
She paused between two of the verses, and looked at him with a smile.
"Did you see?" he whispered in delight, "she smiled at me."
"Yes," answered Robert, "I noticed that she did."
"It looks as if she was sweet on me, don't you think so?"
"Perhaps so, I don't know much about young ladies. I can't read their
thoughts."
"How would it do for me to write her a note?"
"What could you write? You don't know her?"
"But she has taken notice of me. I might ask her for an interview."
"I don't feel competent to give you advice, Mr. Palmer; I am only a
boy."
"That is true. I--I think I will venture."
"But what will it lead to? Your attachment is not serious, I presume?"
"I don't know but it may be. The fact is, Robert, I am in love."
"Were you ever in love before, Mr. Palmer?"
"Never. This is the first time I have met my ideal."
"You surely wouldn't think of marrying her," said Robert.
"Why not?"
"I thought perhaps you would not care to marry on ten dollars a week."
"I could not. But she is probably earning considerably more. If we both
of us worked, there would be a nice income between us."
"Then you would not object to your wife appearing in a theater?"
"No, Robert. I have no narrow prejudices."
"Then you think she would marry you?"
"You saw for yourself how sweetly she smiled on me. Oh, Robert, I am
very happy!" and the infatuated young man looked in the seventh heaven
of bliss.
"Excuse me for ten minutes, Robert," he said. "I am going into the
Sherman House to write a note. I will try to get it to her this
evening."
Robert smiled. He was a good deal amused by Palmer's romantic
infatuation, but he did not feel called upon to remonstrate with him.
"I will wait for you here," he said.
In fifteen minutes Livingston Palmer returned to his seat.
"Well, have you written the note?" asked Robert.
"Yes, here it is. Cast your eye over it, and see what you think of it."
Robert glanced at the note.
This was the way it was expressed:
* * * * *
"Adorable Alameda:
"Doubtless you will know from whom this note comes. It is from the
young man in the fourth row of the orchestra on whom you smiled so
sweetly this evening. I am sure you read my devotion in my face. I have
never spoken to you, but I feel that I love you, and I have never loved
before. Will you appoint a time when I can meet you? Perhaps I flatter
myself too much when I say that you seem to be kindly disposed towards
me. I will send this by the usher, and will beg for a reply.
"Yours devotedly,
"Livingston Palmer."
"What do you think of it?" asked Palmer eagerly.
"I think it ought to make a favorable impression on the young lady,"
said Robert, doubtfully, however.
"I think it is pretty good, myself," said Palmer complacently.
When the entertainment was over, Palmer went up to one of the ushers.
"My friend," he said, "do you know Miss Alameda Churchill, the singer?"
"Yes, sir."
"Can you manage to put this note into her hands?"
"When?"
"To-night."
"Well, I might if----"
"I will pay you for your trouble."
"All right, sir. I see you are a gentleman. Give it to me."
"I shall be glad if she will send me an answer."
A few minutes later the usher returned.
"Did you give it to her?" asked Palmer eagerly.
"Yes, sir."
"Did she send an answer?"
"Here it is."
It was a small scrap of paper, folded diagonally.
Palmer opened and read it, his heart beating with feverish excitement.
Then he smiled.
"Shall I read it to you, Robert?" he asked.
"Yes, if you like."
* * * * *
"Many thanks for your pretty note. To-morrow evening at eleven be under
the window at No. 98 Lemore street.
"Alameda."
"What do you think of that?" said Livingston Palmer triumphantly. "Do
you notice that she signs herself Alameda?"
"Yes."
"That seems nice and friendly, doesn't it?"
"Yes, it seems so."
"She is evidently taken with me. Oh, Robert, I never was so happy."
Robert, of course, being a boy, could not enter fully into Palmer's
feelings. However, he answered in a sympathetic tone which satisfied
his fellow clerk.
"I never thought I should be so fortunate," he said. "Oh, Robert, you
don't know how I feel towards that girl."
"No, I suppose not, Mr. Palmer."
"It isn't to be expected, for you are only a boy."
"Yes, I am only a boy."
"I suppose I was the same at your age. How fortunate it was that you
invited me to accompany you this evening. I feel under the greatest
obligations to you," and Palmer, seizing our hero's hand, shook it with
impulsive energy.
"I am sure you are quite welcome, Mr. Palmer."
Robert was beginning to be weary. To his mind, Palmer seemed to be
acting in a very silly manner. However, as he reflected, he was only a
boy, and could not comprehend the effect of a grand passion on a man
like his fellow clerk.
The next day Palmer was like a man in a dream. He was at his desk
in the office, but he found it hard to attend to his duties in an
intelligent manner. He made some ludicrous blunders, which finally
attracted his employer's notice.
"It seems to me, Mr. Palmer," he said quietly, "that you are not quite
yourself. Where did the man you just waited on wish to go?"
"Alameda," blurted out Palmer. "No," he corrected himself in some
confusion, "Denver, Colorado."
"You seem to have Alameda on the brain. We don't sell tickets to
Alameda."
"No, sir."
"Do you know where Alameda is?"
"No," answered Palmer hesitatingly.
"I believe there is such a place in California, but we never had any
tickets for it."
"Yes, sir."
"For the rest of the day try to keep your wits about you."
"Do you think he suspects?" asked Palmer in a whisper to Robert, when
Mr. Gray had gone out for a minute.
"No; how should he?"
"Really, I hope not. It makes me feel embarrassed and confused."
"I see it does. Can't you put the matter out of your mind during
business hours?"
"I will try to, but oh, Robert, when I think of to-night I feel like
dancing a Highland fling right in the office."
"If you did I am sure Mr. Gray would think you were crazy."
"Of course, I don't mean that exactly, Robert, I was speaking
figuratively."
"You refer to the figure you would cut when you were dancing the
Highland fling?"
"I see you are witty, Robert."
"No one ever accused me of that before," said Robert demurely.
Livingston Palmer laughed, and managed with an effort to devote himself
for the rest of the day strictly to business.
"You will be with me to-night, Frost," he said, as they closed the
office, and started on their way to supper.
"Do you mean that I am to go to 98 Lemore street with you?"
"Yes, you could stand on the other side of the street."
"Your appointment is at eleven o'clock. What are you going to do before
that time comes? Will you go to the theater?"
"No. I could not enjoy it. May I pass the evening in your room?"
"Certainly, if you like."
"You know we can speak of her. That will be better than having my
thoughts taken up by a variety entertainment. But, oh, how long the
evening will be!"
"We shall get through it after a while. You might go round and take
supper with me. I look upon you as my confidential friend."