"No, it _isn't_. And I wish you'd shut up about those things. You only
make me miserable."
If I had stung him, he could not have drawn back from me more sharply.
"Oh, _very_ well," he said, and threw himself back in his seat, his
face looking like a thunder-cloud.
He didn't speak another word to me, and when the carriage stopped at my
door, he got out, assisted me from the carriage, and then immediately
got in again himself. I stood at the curb, my hand on the door of the
carriage, and I said:
"Please don't go like this."
"I'm sorry, but I am taking the 6:09 train."
"Take a later train."
"No, thank you."
"Please!"
"Sorry. Good-by."
"Please don't be angry with me!"
He didn't answer. It was terrible to have him go like that, and I asked
him when he was coming back.
"I can't say," was his curt response. Then his angry glance fixed me,
and he said slowly:
"You can let me know when you take those rooms I chose for you. I'll
come then--at once."
And that is the cruel way he left me. I was heartbroken in a way, but
I was angry, too. I went up to my room, and sat on the couch, and as I
slowly pulled off my new gloves, I was not thinking kindly of Mr. R. A.
Hamilton. No man had a right to impose his will in this way on a girl
and to demand of her something that she could not do without losing her
self-respect. I asked myself whether, because I loved this man, I was
willing to make of myself a pusillanimous little door-mat, or if I had
enough pride to stand by my own convictions?
I had humbled myself enough to him; indeed, I had virtually offered
myself to him. But he did not want me. He had made that clear enough.
If, in the circumstances, I took from him the gifts he offered me, I
would roll up a debt I could never wipe out. Now, although poor and
working, I was a free woman. What I had, I honestly earned. I was no
doll or parasite who needed to be carried by others. No! To retain
my belief in my own powers, I must prove that they actually existed.
Only women without resources in themselves, without gifts or brains,
were "kept" by men, either as mistresses or wives or from charity, as
Hamilton wished to "keep" me. I had the youthful conviction that _I_
was one of the exceptional souls of the world, and could carry myself.
Was I, then, to be bought by the usual foolish things that attract the
ordinary woman? No! Not even my love could alter my character.
Now, there really was a fine streak in me, for I did want pretty things
(what young girl does not?), I hated my work, and I loved this man, and
wanted above all things on earth to please him.
Lolly said, to jerk one's mind from too much brooding over one
man, one should think of another, I discovered another method of
distraction. Pretty clothes are a balm even to a broken heart, and
although I was clever, I was also eternally feminine. My things had
arrived from the shop, and they were so lovely,--so much lovelier than
I had thought,--that I was enchanted. Lolly came in while I was lifting
the things from the boxes. I hadn't taken off my suit, and she turned
me around to look at me.
"Isn't it stunning, Lolly?" I asked. "And, just think, it was only
fifteen dollars, suit, hat, muff, and all."
Lolly's unbelieving glance swept me, then she threw her cigarette down,
and said spitefully:
"For the love of Mike, Nora, cut it out! You're a poor little liar!"
"Liar! What do you mean, Lolly Hope?"