Fred was to leave for New York on the first of November, and that was
only a week off. The firm had decided to retain me, after all, in
the Chicago offices, but I was determined I would not remain there,
and planned to go to New York as soon as possible, when Fred would
immediately engage me. He said he'd "fire" any girl he had then for me.
I had been saving from week to week for my fare and a set of furs. My
suit, though only two months old, had already begun to show wear, and
it was thin, as Mr. Hamilton had said. The girls at the yards were
already wearing furs, but furs were beyond my purse for months to come.
Lolly had beautiful furs, black, silky lynx, that some one had given
her the previous Christmas.
It was now five weeks since I had seen Mr. Hamilton, and two since Dick
had gone. I had had a few letters from Dick. They were not exactly
love-letters. Dick's letters were more, as it were--well, written for
publication. I don't know why they seemed like that to me. I suppose he
could not help writing for effect, for although he said tender things,
and very brilliantly, too, somehow they did not ring true to me.
I did not think very seriously of our engagement, though I liked my
ring, and showed it to all the girls at the yards.
My stories came back with unflattering regularity from the magazines to
which I sent them. Lolly, however, gave two of my stories to her paper,
and I was to be paid space rates (four dollars a column, I think it
was) on publication. I was a long time waiting for publication.
Dissatisfied, unhappy, and restless, as I now really was, I did not
even feel like writing at night. I now no longer ran up-stairs to my
room, with an eager, wishful heart, hoping that _he_ might be there.
Alas! I felt sure he had abandoned me forever. He had even ceased, I
told myself, to be interested in me.
Then one night he came. I had had a hard day at the yards. Not hard
in the sense of work; but Fred was to leave the following day, and a
Mr. Hopkins was to take his place. We had spent the day going over all
the matters of our department, and it's impossible for me to say how
utterly wretched I felt at the thought of working under another "boss"
than Fred.
So I came home doleful enough, went out and ate my solitary dinner in a
nearby restaurant, and then returned to the house.
He called, "Hello, little girl!" while I was opening the door.
I stood speechlessly staring at him for a moment, so glad was I to
see him. It seemed an incredible and a joyous thing to me that he was
really there, and that he appeared exactly the same--tall, with his
odd, tired face and musing eyes.
"Well, aren't you glad to see me?" he asked, smiling, and holding out
his hand.
I seized it and clung to it with both of mine, and I wouldn't let it
go. That made him laugh again, and then he said:
"Well, what has my wonderful girl been doing?"
That was nearly always his first question to me.
"I wrote to you four times," I said, "and you never answered me once."
"I'm not much of a hand at letter-writing," he said.
"I thought that you'd forgotten me," I told him, "and that you were
never going to come and see me again."
He put his hand under my chin, raised my face, and looked at it
searchingly.
"Would it have mattered so much, then?" he asked gently.
"You know very well I'm in love with you," I told him desperately, and
he said, as always:
"Nonsense!" though I know he liked to hear me say that.
Then he wanted to inspect me, and he held me off at arm's-length, and
turned me around, too. I think it was my suit he was looking at, though
he had seen it before. Then he made me sit down, and said we were
going to have a "long talk." Of course I had to tell him everything
that had happened to me since I had seen him. I omitted all mention of
Dick!
I told him about Fred's wanting me to join him in New York, and he
remarked:
"Fred can jump up. You're not going."
I did not argue that with him. I no longer wanted to go. I was quite
happy and contented now that he was here. I didn't care whether he
returned my love or not. I was satisfied as long as he was with me.
That was much.
He always made me tell him every little detail of my life, and when I
said I found it difficult to write, because of so many men coming to
see Lolly,--I didn't mention that they were coming to see me, too!--he
said:
"You're going to move out of this place right away. We'll look about
for rooms to-morrow."
So then I knew he was not going back that night, and I was so glad that
I knelt down beside him and cuddled up against his knee. I wished that
he would put his arm about me, but all he did was to push back the
loose hair that slipped over my cheek, and after that he kept his hand
on my head.
He was much pleased with my description of the rooms at Mrs.
Kingston's. He said we'd go there the next day and have a look at them.
He said I was to stay home from work the next day, but I protested that
I couldn't do that--Fred's last day! Unless I did just what he told
me, it exasperated him always, and he now said:
"Then go away from me. I don't want anything to do with a girl who
won't do even a trifling thing to please me."
I said that it wasn't trifling, and that I might lose my position; for
the new man was to take charge to-morrow, and I ought to be there.
"Damn the new man!" he said.
He was a singularly unreasonable man, and he could sulk and scowl for
all the world like a great boy. I told him so, and he unwillingly
laughed, and said I was beyond him. To win him back to good humor, I
got out some of my new stories, and, sitting on the floor at his feet,
read them to him. I read two stories. When I was through, he got up and
walked up and down, pulling at his lower lip in that way he had.
"Well," I challenged, "can I write?"
He said:
"I'm afraid you can." Then he took my manuscripts from me, and put them
in his pocket.
It was late now, for it had taken me some time to read my stories,
but he did not show any signs of going. He was sitting in our one
big chair, smoking, with his legs stretched out in front of him, and
although his eyes were half closed, he was watching me constantly. I
began to yawn, because I was becoming sleepy. He said he supposed I
wanted him to get out. I said no, I didn't; but my landlady probably
did. She didn't mind our having men callers as long as they went
before midnight. It was nearly that now. He said:
"Damn the landlady!" just as he had said, "Damn the new man!" Then he
added, "You're not going to be run by every one, you know."