_A Chapter Devoted to the Proposition that All Mankind Are Born of Woman_
He began by suddenly filling the air with canary birds; they flew and
chirped and fluttered about her head, until, bewildered, she shrank back,
almost frightened at the golden hurricane.
To reassure her he began doing incredible things with the big silver
hoops, forming chains and linked figures under her amazed eyes, although
each hoop seemed solid and without a break in its polished circumference.
Then, one by one, he tossed the rings up and they vanished in mid-air
before her very eyes.
"How did you do that?" she cried, enchanted.
He laughed and produced the big, white Persian cats, changed them into
kittens, then into birds and butterflies, and finally into a bowl full of
big, staring goldfish. Then he picked up a ladle, dipped out the fish,
carefully fried them over an electric lamp, dumped them from the smoking
frying pan back into the water, where they quietly swam off again,
goggling their eyes in astonishment.
"That," said the girl, excitedly, "is miraculous!"
"Isn't it?" he said, delighted as a boy at her praise. "What card will
you choose?"
And he handed her a pack.
"The ace of hearts, if you please."
"Draw it from the pack."
"Any card?" she inquired. "Oh! how on earth did you make me draw the ace
of hearts?"
"Hold it tightly," he warned her.
She clutched it in her pretty fingers.
"Are you sure you hold it?" he asked.
"Perfectly."
"Look!"
She looked and found that it was the queen of diamonds she held so
tightly; but, looking again to reassure herself, she was astonished to
find that the card was the jack of clubs. "Tear it up," he said. She tore
it into small pieces.
"Throw them into the air!"
She obeyed, and almost cried out to see them take fire in mid-air and
float away in ashy flakes.
Face flushed, eyes brilliant, she turned to him, hanging on his every
movement, every expression.
Before her rapt eyes the multicolored mice danced jigs on slack wires,
then were carefully rolled up into little balls of paper which
immediately began to swell until each was as big as a football. These
burst open, and out of each football of white paper came kittens,
turtles, snakes, chickens, ducks, and finally two white rabbits with
silly pink eyes that began gravely waltzing round and round the room.
"Please stand up and shake your skirts," he said.
She rose hastily and obeyed; a rain of silver coins fell, then gold, then
banknotes, littering the floor. Then precious stones began to drop about
her; she shook them from her hair, her collar, her neck; she clenched her
hands in nervous amazement, but inside each tight little fist she felt
something, and opening her fingers she fairly showered the floor with
diamonds.
"Can't you save one for me?" he asked. "I really need it." But when again
she looked for the glittering heap at her feet, it was gone; and, search
as she might, not one coin, not one gem remained.
Glancing up in dismay she found herself in a perfect storm of white
butterflies--no, they were red--no, green!
"Is there anything in this world you desire?" he asked her.
"A--a glass of water----"
She was already holding it in her hands, and she cried out in amazement,
spilling the brimming glass; but no water fell, only a rain of little
crimson flames.
"I can't--can't drink this--can I?" she faltered.
"With perfect safety," he smiled, and she tasted it.
"Taste it again," he said.
She tried it; it was lemonade.
"Again."
It was ginger ale.
"Once more."
She stared at the glass, frothing with ice-cream soda; there was a long
silver spoon in it, too.
Enchanted, she lay back, savoring her ice, shyly watching him.
He went on gayly doing uncanny or charming things; her eyes were tired,
dazzled, but not too weary to watch him, though she scarcely followed the
marvelous objects that appeared and vanished and glittered and flamed
under his ceaselessly busy hands.
She did notice with a shudder the appearance of an owl that sat for a
while on his shoulder and then turned into a big fur muff which was all
right as long as he held it, but walked away on four legs when he tossed
it to the floor.
A shower of brilliant things followed like shooting stars; two or three
rose trees grew, budded, and bloomed before her eyes; and he laid the
fresh, sweet blossoms in her hands. They turned to violets later, but
that did not matter; nothing mattered any longer as long as she could lie
there and gaze at him--the most splendid man her maiden eyes had ever
unclosed upon.
About two thousand yards of brilliant ribbons suddenly fell from the
ceiling; she looked at him with something perilously close to a sigh. Out
of an old hat he produced a cage full of parrots; every parrot repeated
her first name decorously, monotonously, until packed back into the hat
and stuffed into a box which was then set on fire.
Her heart was pretty full now; for she was only eighteen and she had been
considering his poverty. So when in due time the box burned out and from
the black and charred _débris_ the parrots stepped triumphantly forth,
gravely repeating her name in unison; and when she saw that the
entertainment was at an end, she rose, setting her ice-cream soda upon a
table, and, although the glass instantly changed into a teapot, she
walked straight up to him and held out her hand.
"I've had a perfectly lovely time," she said. "And I want to say to you
that I have been thinking of several things, and one is that it is
perfectly ridiculous for you to be poor."
"It is rather ridiculous," he admitted, surprised. "Isn't it! And no need
of it at all. Your father made a fortune for my father. All you have to
do is to let my father make a fortune for you."
"Is that all?" he asked, laughing.
"Of course. Why did you not tell him so? Have you seen him?"
"No," he said gravely.
"Why not?"
"I saw others--I did not care to try--any more--friends."
"Will you--now?"
He shook his head.
"Then I will."
"Please don't," he said quietly. Her hand still lay in his; she looked up
at him; her eyes were starry bright and a little moist.
"I simply can't stand this," she said, steadying her voice.
"What?"
"Your--your distress--" She choked; her sensitive mouth trembled.
"Good Heavens!" he breathed; "do you care!"
"Care--care," she stammered. "You saved my life with a laugh! You face
st-starvation with a laugh! Your father made mine! Care? Yes, I care!"
But she had bent her head; a bright tear fell, spangling his polished
shoes; the pulsating seconds passed; he laid his other hand above both of
hers which he held, and stood silent, stunned, scarcely daring to
understand.
Nor was it here he could understand or even hope--his instinct held him
stupid and silent. Presently he released her hands.
She said "Good-by" calmly enough; he followed her to the door and opened
it, watching her pass through the hall to her own door. And there she
paused and looked back; and he found himself beside her again.
"Only," she began, "only don't do all those beautiful magic things for
any--anybody else--will you? I wish to have--have them all for myself--to
share them with no one----"
He held her hands imprisoned again. "I will never do one of those things
for anybody but you," he said unsteadily.
"Truly?" Her face caught fire.
"Yes, truly."
"But how--how, then, can you--can----"
"I don't care what happens to me!" he said. To look at him nobody would
have thought him young enough to say that sort of thing.
"I care," she said, releasing her hands and stepping back into her
studio.
For a moment her lovely, daring face swam before his eyes; then, in the
next moment, she was in his arms, crying her eyes out against his
shoulder, his lips pressed to her bright hair.
And that was all right in its way, too; madder things have happened in
our times; but nothing madder ever happened than a large, bald gentleman
who came up the stairs in a series of bounces and planted his legs apart
and tightened his pudgy grip upon his malacca walking stick, and
confronted them with distended eyes and waistband.
In vigorous but incoherent English he begged to know whether this scene
was part of an education in art.
"Papah," she said calmly, "you are just in time. Go into the studio and
I'll come in one moment."
Then giving her lover both hands and looking at him with all her soul in
her young eyes: "I love you; I'll marry you. And if there's trouble"--she
smiled upon her frantic father--"if there is trouble I will follow you
about the country exhibiting green mice----"
"What!" thundered her father.
"Green mice," she repeated with an adorable smile at her lover--"unless
my father finds a necessity for you in his business--with a view to
partnership. And I'm going to let you arrange that together. Good-by."
And she entered her studio, closing the door behind her, leaving the two
men confronting one another in the entry.
For one so young she had much wisdom and excellent taste; and listening,
she heard her father explode in one lusty Saxon word. He always said it
when beaten; it was the beginning of the end, and the end of the sweetest
beginning that ever dawned on earth for a maid since the first sunbeam
stole into Eden.
So she sat down on her little camp stool before her easel and picked up a
hand glass; and, sitting there, carefully removed all traces of tears
from her wet and lovely eyes with the cambric hem of her painting apron.
"Damnation!" repeated Mr. Carr, "am I to understand that the only thing
you can do for a living is to go about with a troupe of trained mice?"
"I've invented a machine," observed the young man, modestly. "It ought to
be worth millions--if you'd care to finance it."
"The idea is utterly repugnant to me!" shouted her father.
The young man reddened. "If you wouldn't mind examining it--" He drew
from his pocket a small, delicately contrived bit of clockwork. "This is
the machine----"
"I don't want to see it!"
"You _have_ seen it. Do you mind sitting down a moment? Be careful of
that kitten! Kindly take this chair. Thank you. Now, if you would be good
enough to listen for ten minutes----"
"I don't want to be good enough! Do you hear!"
"Yes, I hear," said young Destyn, patiently. "And as I was going to
explain, the earth is circumscribed by wireless currents of
electricity----"
"I--dammit, sir----"
"But those are not the only invisible currents that are ceaselessly
flowing around our globe!" pursued the young man, calmly. "Do you see
this machine?"
"No, I don't!" snarled the other.
"Then--" And, leaning closer, William Augustus Destyn whispered into
Bushwyck Carr's fat, red ear.
"What!!!"
"Certainly."
"You can't _prove_ it!"
"Watch me."
* * * * *
Ethelinda had dried her eyes. Every few minutes she glanced anxiously at
the little French clock over her easel.
"What on earth can they be doing?" she murmured. And when the long hour
struck she arose with resolution and knocked at the door.
"Come in," said her father, irritably, "but don't interrupt. William and
I are engaged in a very important business transaction."
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V