It was now December and the Senate had been in session for over a
week. Jefferson had not forgotten his promise, and one day, about
two weeks after Mr. Bagley's spectacular dismissal from the Ryder
residence, he had brought Shirley the two letters. She did not ask
him how he got them, if he forced the drawer or procured the key.
It sufficed for her that the precious letters--the absolute proof
of her father's innocence--were at last in her possession. She at
once sent them off by registered mail to Stott, who immediately
acknowledged receipt and at the same time announced his departure
for Washington that night. He promised to keep her constantly
informed of what he was doing and how her father's case was going.
It could, he thought, be only a matter of a few days now before
the result of the proceedings would be known.
The approach of the crisis made Shirley exceedingly nervous, and
it was only by the exercise of the greatest self-control that she
did not betray the terrible anxiety she felt. The Ryder biography
was nearly finished and her stay in Seventy-fourth Street would
soon come to an end. She had a serious talk with Jefferson, who
contrived to see a good deal of her, entirely unsuspected by his
parents, for Mr. and Mrs. Ryder had no reason to believe that
their son had any more than a mere bowing acquaintance with the
clever young authoress. Now that Mr. Bagley was no longer there to
spy upon their actions these clandestine interviews had been
comparatively easy. Shirley brought to bear all the arguments she
could think of to convince Jefferson of the hopelessness of their
engagement. She insisted that she could never be his wife;
circumstances over which they had no control made that dream
impossible. It were better, she said, to part now rather than
incur the risk of being unhappy later. But Jefferson refused to be
convinced. He argued and pleaded and he even swore--strange,
desperate words that Shirley had never heard before and which
alarmed her not a little--and the discussion ended usually by a
kiss which put Shirley completely _hors de combat_.
Meantime, John Ryder had not ceased worrying about his son. The
removal of Kate Roberts as a factor in his future had not
eliminated the danger of Jefferson taking the bit between his
teeth one day and contracting a secret marriage with the daughter
of his enemy, and when he thought of the mere possibility of such
a thing happening he stormed and raved until his wife, accustomed
as she was to his choleric outbursts, was thoroughly frightened.
For some time after Bagley's departure, father and son got along
together fairly amicably, but Ryder, Sr. was quick to see that
Jefferson had something on his mind which was worrying him, and he
rightly attributed it to his infatuation for Miss Rossmore. He was
convinced that his son knew where the judge's daughter was,
although his own efforts to discover her whereabouts had been
unsuccessful. Sergeant Ellison had confessed absolute failure;
Miss Rossmore, he reported, had disappeared as completely as if
the earth had swallowed her, and further search was futile.
Knowing well his son's impulsive, headstrong disposition, Ryder,
Sr. believed him quite capable of marrying the girl secretly any
time. The only thing that John Ryder did not know was that Shirley
Rossmore was not the kind of a girl to allow any man to inveigle
her into a secret marriage. The Colossus, who judged the world's
morals by his own, was not of course aware of this, and he worried
night and day thinking what he could do to prevent his son from
marrying the daughter of the man he had wronged.
The more he pondered over it, the more he regretted that there
was not some other girl with whom Jefferson could fall in love
and marry. He need not seek a rich girl--there was certainly
enough money in the Ryder family to provide for both. He wished
they knew a girl, for example, as attractive and clever as Miss
Green. Ah! he thought, there was a girl who would make a man of
Jefferson--brainy, ambitious, active! And the more he thought of
it the more the idea grew on him that Miss Green would be an ideal
daughter-in-law, and at the same time snatch his son from the
clutches of the Rossmore woman.
Jefferson, during all these weeks, was growing more and more
impatient. He knew that any day now Shirley might take her
departure from their house and return to Massapequa. If the
impeachment proceedings went against her father it was more than
likely that he would lose her forever, and if, on the contrary,
the judge were acquitted, Shirley never would be willing to marry
him without his father's consent; and this, he felt, he would
never obtain. He resolved, therefore, to have a final interview
with his father and declare boldly his intention of making Miss
Rossmore his wife, regardless of the consequences.
The opportunity came one evening after dinner. Ryder, Sr. was
sitting alone in the library, reading, Mrs. Ryder had gone to the
theatre with a friend, Shirley as usual was writing in her room,
giving the final touches to her now completed "History of the
Empire Trading Company." Jefferson took the bull by the horns and
boldly accosted his redoubtable parent.
"May I have a few minutes of your time, father?"
Ryder, Sr. laid aside the paper he was reading and looked up. It
was unusual for his son to come to him on any errand, and he liked
to encourage it.
"Certainly, Jefferson. What is it?"
"I want to appeal to you, sir. I want you to use your influence,
before it is too late, to save Judge Rossmore. A word from you at
this time would do wonders in Washington."
The financier swung half-round in his chair, the smile of greeting
faded out of his face, and his voice was hard as he replied
coldly:
"Again? I thought we had agreed not to discuss Judge Rossmore any
further?"
"I can't help it, sir," rejoined Jefferson undeterred by his
sire's hostile attitude, "that poor old man is practically on
trial for his life. He is as innocent of wrongdoing as a child
unborn, and you know it. You could save him if you would."
"Jefferson," answered Ryder, Sr., biting his lip to restrain his
impatience, "I told you before that I could not interfere even if
I would; and I won't, because that man is my enemy. Important
business interests, which you cannot possibly know anything about,
demand his dismissal from the bench."
"Surely your business interests don't demand the sacrifice of a
man's life!" retorted Jefferson. "I know modern business methods
are none too squeamish, but I should think you'd draw the line at
deliberate murder!"
Ryder sprang to his feet and for a moment stood glaring at the
young man. His lips moved, but no sound came from them. Suppressed
wrath rendered him speechless. What was the world coming to when a
son could talk to his father in this manner?
"How dare you presume to judge my actions or to criticise my
methods?" he burst out; finally.
"You force me to do so," answered Jefferson hotly. "I want to tell
you that I am heartily ashamed of this whole affair and your
connection with it, and since you refuse to make reparation in the
only way possible for the wrong you and your associates have done
Judge Rossmore--that is by saving him in the Senate--I think it
only fair to warn you that I take back my word in regard to not
marrying without your consent. I want you to know that I intend to
marry Miss Rossmore as soon as she will consent to become my wife,
that is," he added with bitterness, "if I can succeed in
overcoming her prejudices against my family--"
Ryder, Sr. laughed contemptuously.
"Prejudices against a thousand million dollars?" he exclaimed
sceptically.
"Yes," replied Jefferson decisively, "prejudices against our
family, against you and your business practices. Money is not
everything. One day you will find that out. I tell you definitely
that I intend to make Miss Rossmore my wife."
Ryder, Sr. made no reply, and as Jefferson had expected an
explosion, this unnatural calm rather startled him. He was sorry
he had spoken so harshly. It was his father, after all.
"You've forced me to defy you, father," he added. "I'm sorry--"
Ryder, Sr. shrugged his shoulders and resumed his seat. He lit
another cigar, and with affected carelessness he said:
"All right, Jeff, my boy, we'll let it go at that You're sorry--so
am I. You've shown me your cards--I'll show you mine."
His composed unruffled manner vanished. He suddenly threw off the
mask and revealed the tempest that was raging within. He leaned
across the desk, his face convulsed with uncontrollable passion, a
terrifying picture of human wrath. Shaking his fist at his son he
shouted:
"When I get through with Judge Rossmore at Washington, I'll start
after his daughter. This time to-morrow he'll be a disgraced man.
A week later she will be a notorious woman. Then we'll see if
you'll be so eager to marry her!"
"Father!" cried Jefferson.
"There is sure to be something in her life that won't bear
inspection," sneered Ryder. "There is in everybody's life. I'll
find out what it is. Where is she to-day? She can't be found. No
one knows where she is--not even her own mother. Something is
wrong--the girl's no good!"
Jefferson started forward as if to resent these insults to the
woman he loved, but, realizing that it was his own father, he
stopped short and his hands fell powerless at his side.
"Well, is that all?" inquired Ryder, Sr. with a sneer.
"That's all," replied Jefferson, "I'm going. Good-bye."
"Good-bye," answered his father indifferently; "leave your address
with your mother."
Jefferson left the room, and Ryder, Sr., as if exhausted by the
violence of his own outburst, sank back limp in his chair. The
crisis he dreaded had come at last. His son had openly defied his
authority and was going to marry the daughter of his enemy. He
must do something to prevent it; the marriage must not take place,
but what could he do? The boy was of age and legally his own
master. He could do nothing to restrain his actions unless they
put him in an insane asylum. He would rather see his son there, he
mused, than married to the Rossmore woman.
Presently there was a timid knock at the library door. Ryder rose
from his seat and went to see who was there. To his surprise it
was Miss Green.
"May I come in?" asked Shirley.
"Certainly, by all means. Sit down."
He drew up a chair for her, and his manner was so cordial that it
was easy to see she was a welcome visitor.
"Mr. Ryder," she began in a low, tremulous voice, "I have come to
see you on a very important matter. I've been waiting to see you
all evening--and as I shall be here only a short time longer
I--want to ask you a great favour--perhaps the greatest you were
ever asked--I want to ask you for mercy--for mercy to--"
She stopped and glanced nervously at him, but she saw he was
paying no attention to what she was saying. He was puffing heavily
at his cigar, entirely preoccupied with his own thoughts. Her
sudden silence aroused him. He apologized:
"Oh, excuse me--I didn't quite catch what you were saying."
She said nothing, wondering what had happened to render him so
absent-minded. He read the question in her face, for, turning
towards her, he exclaimed:
"For the first time in my life I am face to face with
defeat--defeat of the most ignominious kind--incapacity--inability
to regulate my own internal affairs. I can rule a government, but
I can't manage my own family--my own son. I'm a failure. Tell me,"
he added, appealing to her, "why can't I rule my own household,
why can't I govern my own child?"
"Why can't you govern yourself?" said Shirley quietly.
Ryder looked keenly at her for a moment without answering her
question; then, as if prompted by a sudden inspiration, he said:
"You can help me, but not by preaching at me. This is the first
time in my life I ever called on a living soul for help. I'm only
accustomed to deal with men. This time there's a woman in the
case--and I need your woman's wit--"
"How can I help you?" asked Shirley.
"I don't know," he answered with suppressed excitement. "As I
told you, I am up against a blank wall. I can't see my way." He
gave a nervous little laugh and went on: "God! I'm ashamed of
myself--ashamed! Did you ever read the fable of the Lion and the
Mouse? Well, I want you to gnaw with your sharp woman's teeth at
the cords which bind the son of John Burkett Ryder to this
Rossmore woman. I want you to be the mouse--to set me free of
this disgraceful entanglement."
"How?" asked Shirley calmly.
"Ah, that's just it--how?" he replied. "Can't you think--you're a
woman--you have youth, beauty--brains." He stopped and eyed her
closely until she reddened from the embarrassing scrutiny. Then he
blurted out: "By George! marry him yourself--force him to let go
of this other woman! Why not? Come, what do you say?"
This unexpected suggestion came upon Shirley with all the force of
a violent shock. She immediately saw the falseness of her
position. This man was asking for her hand for his son under the
impression that she was another woman. It would be dishonorable of
her to keep up the deception any longer. She passed her hand over
her face to conceal her confusion.
"You--you must give me time to think," she stammered. "Suppose I
don't love your son--I should want something--something to
compensate."
"Something to compensate?" echoed Ryder surprised and a little
disconcerted. "Why, the boy will inherit millions--I don't know
how many."
"No--no, not money," rejoined Shirley; "money only compensates
those who love money. It's something else--a man's honour--a man's
life! It means nothing to you."
He gazed at her, not understanding. Full of his own project, he
had mind for nothing else. Ignoring therefore the question of
compensation, whatever she might mean by that, he continued:
"You can win him if you make up your mind to. A woman with your
resources can blind him to any other woman."
"But if--he loves Judge Rossmore's daughter?" objected Shirley.
"It's for you to make him forget her--and you can," replied the
financier confidently. "My desire is to separate him from this
Rossmore woman at any cost. You must help me." His sternness
relaxed somewhat and his eyes rested on her kindly. "Do you know,
I should be glad to think you won't have to leave us. Mrs. Ryder
has taken a fancy to you, and I myself shall miss you when you
go."
"You ask me to be your son's wife and you know nothing of my
family," said Shirley.
"I know you--that is sufficient," he replied.
"No--no you don't," returned Shirley, "nor do you know your son.
He has more constancy--more strength of character than you
think--and far more principle than you have."
"So much the greater the victory for you," he answered good
humouredly.
"Ah," she said reproachfully, "you do not love your son."
"I do love him," replied Ryder warmly. "It's because I love him
that I'm such a fool in this matter. Don't you see that if he
marries this girl it would separate us, and I should lose him. I
don't want to lose him. If I welcomed her to my house it would
make me the laughing-stock of all my friends and business
associates. Come, will you join forces with me?"
Shirley shook her head and was about to reply when the telephone
bell rang. Ryder took up the receiver and spoke to the butler
downstairs:
"Who's that? Judge Stott? Tell him I'm too busy to see anyone.
What's that? A man's life at stake? What's that to do with me?
Tell him--"
On hearing Stott's name, Shirley nearly betrayed herself. She
turned pale and half-started up from her chair. Something serious
must have happened to bring her father's legal adviser to the
Ryder residence at such an hour! She thought he was in Washington.
Could it be that the proceedings in the Senate were ended and the
result known? She could hardly conceal her anxiety, and
instinctively she placed her hand on Ryder's arm.
"No, Mr. Ryder, do see Judge Stott! You must see him. I know who
he is. Your son has told me. Judge Stott is one of Judge
Rossmore's advisers. See him. You may find out something about the
girl. You may find out where she is. If Jefferson finds out you
have refused to see her father's friend at such a critical time it
will only make him sympathize more deeply with the Rossmores, and
you know sympathy is akin to love. That's what you want to avoid,
isn't it?"
Ryder still held the telephone, hesitating what to do. What she
said sounded like good sense.
"Upon my word--" he said. "You may be right and yet--"
"Am I to help you or not?" demanded Shirley. "You said you wanted
a woman's wit."
"Yes," said Ryder, "but still--"
"Then you had better see him," she said emphatically.
Ryder turned to the telephone.
"Hello, Jorkins, are you there? Show Judge Stott up here." He laid
the receiver down and turned again to Shirley. "That's one thing I
don't like about you," he said. "I allow you to decide against me
and then I agree with you." She said nothing and he went on
looking at her admiringly. "I predict that you'll bring that boy
to your feet within a month. I don't know why, but I seem to feel
that he is attracted to you already. Thank Heaven! you haven't a
lot of troublesome relations. I think you said you were almost
alone in the world. Don't look so serious," he added laughing.
"Jeff is a fine fellow, and believe me an excellent catch as the
world goes."
Shirley raised her hand as if entreating him to desist.
"Oh, don't--don't--please! My position is so false! You don't know
how false it is!" she cried.
At that instant the library door was thrown open and the butler
appeared, ushering in Stott. The lawyer looked anxious, and his
dishevelled appearance indicated that he had come direct from the
train. Shirley scanned his face narrowly in the hope that she
might read there what had happened. He walked right past her,
giving no sign of recognition, and advanced direct towards Ryder,
who had risen and remained standing at his desk.
"Perhaps I had better go?" ventured Shirley, although tortured by
anxiety to hear the news from Washington.
"No," said Ryder quickly, "Judge Stott will detain me but a very
few moments."
Having delivered himself of this delicate hint, he looked towards
his visitor as if inviting him to come to the point as rapidly as
possible.
"I must apologize for intruding at this unseemly hour, sir," said
Stott, "but time is precious. The Senate meets to-morrow to vote.
If anything is to be done for Judge Rossmore it must be done
to-night."
"I fail to see why you address yourself to me in this matter,
sir," replied Ryder with asperity.
"As Judge Rossmore's friend and counsel," answered Stott, "I am
impelled to ask your help at this critical moment."
"The matter is in the hands of the United States Senate, sir,"
replied Ryder coldly.
"They are against him!" cried Stott; "not one senator I've spoken
to holds out any hope for him. If he is convicted it will mean his
death. Inch by inch his life is leaving him. The only thing that
can save him is the good news of the Senate's refusal to find him
guilty."
Stott was talking so excitedly and loudly that neither he nor
Ryder heard the low moan that came from the corner of the room
where Shirley was standing listening.
"I can do nothing," repeated Ryder coldly, and he turned his back
and began to examine some papers lying on his desk as if to notify
the caller that the interview was ended. But Stott was not so
easily discouraged. He went on:
"As I understand it, they will vote on strictly party lines, and
the party in power is against him. He's a marked man. You have the
power to help him." Heedless of Ryder's gesture of impatience he
continued: "When I left his bedside to-night, sir, I promised to
return to him with good news; I have told him that the Senate
ridicules the charges against him. I must return to him with good
news. He is very ill to-night, sir." He halted for a moment and
glanced in Shirley's direction, and slightly raising his voice so
she might hear, he added: "If he gets worse we shall send for his
daughter."
"Where is his daughter?" demanded Ryder, suddenly interested.
"She is working in her father's interests," replied Stott, and, he
added significantly, "I believe with some hope of success."
He gave Shirley a quick, questioning look. She nodded
affirmatively. Ryder, who had seen nothing of this by-play, said
with a sneer:
"Surely you didn't come here to-night to tell me this?"
"No, sir, I did not." He took from his pocket two letters--the two
which Shirley had sent him--and held them out for Ryder's
inspection. "These letters from Judge Rossmore to you," he said,
"show you to be acquainted with the fact that he bought those
shares as an investment--and did not receive them as a bribe."
When he caught sight of the letters and he realized what they
were, Ryder changed colour. Instinctively his eyes sought the
drawer on the left-hand side of his desk. In a voice that was
unnaturally calm, he asked:
"Why don't you produce them before the Senate?"
"It was too late," explained Stott, handing them to the financier.
"I received them only two days ago. But if you come forward and
declare--"
Ryder made an effort to control himself.
"I'll do nothing of the kind. I refuse to move in the matter. That
is final. And now, sir," he added, raising his voice and pointing
to the letters, "I wish to know how comes it that you had in your
possession private correspondence addressed to me?"
"That I cannot answer," replied Stott promptly.
"From whom did you receive these letters?" demanded Ryder.
Stott was dumb, while Shirley clutched at her chair as if she
would fall. The financier repeated the question.
"I must decline to answer," replied Stott finally.
Shirley left her place and came slowly forward. Addressing Ryder,
she said:
"I wish to make a statement."
The financier gazed at her in astonishment. What could she
know about it, he wondered, and he waited with curiosity to
hear what she was going to say. But Stott instantly realized
that she was about to take the blame upon herself, regardless
of the consequences to the success of their cause. This must
be prevented at all hazards, even if another must be sacrificed,
so interrupting her he said hastily to Ryder:
"Judge Rossmore's life and honour are at stake and no false sense
of delicacy must cause the failure of my object to save him. These
letters were sent to me by--your son."
"From my son!" exclaimed Ryder, starting. For a moment he
staggered as if he had received a blow; he was too much overcome
to speak or act. Then recovering himself, he rang a bell, and
turned to Stott with renewed fury:
"So," he cried, "this man, this judge whose honour is at stake and
his daughter, who most likely has no honour at stake, between them
have made a thief and a liar of my son! false to his father, false
to his party; and you, sir, have the presumption to come here and
ask me to intercede for him!" To the butler, who entered, he said:
"See if Mr. Jefferson is still in the house. If he is, tell him I
would like to see him here at once."
The man disappeared, and Ryder strode angrily up and down the room
with the letters in his hand. Then, turning abruptly on Stott, he
said:
"And now, sir, I think nothing more remains to be said. I shall
keep these letters, as they are my property."
"As you please. Good night, sir."
"Good night," replied Ryder, not looking up.
With a significant glance at Shirley, who motioned to him that she
might yet succeed where he had failed, Stott left the room. Ryder
turned to Shirley. His fierceness of manner softened down as he
addressed the girl:
"You see what they have done to my son--"
"Yes," replied Shirley, "it's the girl's fault. If Jefferson
hadn't loved her you would have helped the judge. Ah, why did they
ever meet! She has worked on his sympathy and he--he took these
letters for her sake, not to injure you. Oh, you must make some
allowance for him! One's sympathy gets aroused in spite of
oneself; even I feel sorry for--these people."
"Don't," replied Ryder grimly, "sympathy is often weakness. Ah,
there you are!" turning to Jefferson, who entered the room at that
moment.
"You sent for me, father?"
"Yes," said Ryder, Sr., holding up the letters. "Have you ever
seen these letters before?"
Jefferson took the letters and examined them, then he passed them
back to his father and said frankly:
"Yes, I took them out of your desk and sent them to Mr. Stott in
the hope they would help Judge Rossmore's case."
Ryder restrained himself from proceeding to actual violence only
with the greatest difficulty. His face grew white as death, his
lips were compressed, his hands twitched convulsively, his eyes
flashed dangerously. He took another cigar to give the impression
that he had himself well under control, but the violent trembling
of his hands as he lit it betrayed the terrific strain he was
under.
"So!" he said, "you deliberately sacrificed my interests to save
this woman's father--you hear him, Miss Green? Jefferson, my boy,
I think it's time you and I had a final accounting."
Shirley made a motion as if about to withdraw. He stopped her with
a gesture.
"Please don't go, Miss Green. As the writer of my biography you
are sufficiently well acquainted with my family affairs to warrant
your being present at the epilogue. Besides, I want an excuse for
keeping my temper. Sit down, Miss Green."
Turning to Jefferson, he went on:
"For your mother's sake, my boy, I have overlooked your little
eccentricities of character. But now we have arrived at the
parting of the ways--you have gone too far. The one aspect of this
business I cannot overlook is your willingness to sell, your own
father for the sake of a woman."
"My own father," interrupted Jefferson bitterly, "would not
hesitate to sell me if his business and political interests
warranted the sacrifice!"
Shirley attempted the rôle of peacemaker. Appealing to the younger
man, she said:
"Please don't talk like that, Mr. Jefferson." Then she turned to
Ryder, Sr.: "I don't think your son quite understands you, Mr.
Ryder, and, if you will pardon me, I don't think you quite
understand him. Do you realize that there is a man's life at
stake--that Judge Rossmore is almost at the point of death and
that favourable news from the Senate to-morrow is perhaps the only
thing that can save him?"
"Ah, I see," sneered Ryder, Sr. "Judge Stott's story has aroused
your sympathy."
"Yes, I--I confess my sympathy is aroused. I do feel for this
father whose life is slowly ebbing away--whose strength is being
sapped hourly by the thought of the disgrace--the injustice that
is being done him! I do feel for the wife of this suffering man!"
"Ah, its a complete picture!" cried Ryder mockingly. "The dying
father, the sorrowing mother--and the daughter, what is she
supposed to be doing?"
"She is fighting for her father's life," cried Shirley, "and you,
Mr. Jefferson, should have pleaded--pleaded--not demanded. It's no
use trying to combat your father's will."
"She is quite right, father. I should have implored you. I do so
now. I ask you for God's sake to help us!"
Ryder was grim and silent. He rose from his seat and paced the
room, puffing savagely at his cigar. Then he turned and said:
"His removal is a political necessity. If he goes back on the
bench every paltry justice of the peace, every petty official will
think he has a special mission to tear down the structure that
hard work and capital have erected. No, this man has been
especially conspicuous in his efforts to block the progress of
amalgamated interests."
"And so he must be sacrificed?" cried Shirley indignantly.
"He is a meddlesome man," insisted Ryder "and--"
"He is innocent of the charges brought against him," urged
Jefferson.
"Mr. Ryder is not considering that point," said Shirley bitterly.
"All he can see is that it is necessary to put this poor old man
in the public pillory, to set him up as a warning to others of his
class not to act in accordance with the principles of Truth and
Justice--not to dare to obstruct the car of Juggernaut set in
motion by the money gods of the country!"
"It's the survival of the fittest, my dear," said Ryder coldly.
"Oh!" cried Shirley, making a last appeal to the financier's heart
of stone, "use your great influence with this governing body for
good, not evil! Urge them to vote not in accordance with party
policy and personal interest, but in accordance with their
consciences--in accordance with Truth and Justice! Ah, for God's
sake, Mr. Ryder! don't permit this foul injustice to blot the name
of the highest tribunal in the Western world!"
Ryder laughed cynically.
"By Jove! Jefferson, I give you credit for having secured an
eloquent advocate!"
"Suppose," went on Shirley, ignoring his taunting comments,
"suppose this daughter promises that she will never--never see
your son again--that she will go away to some foreign country!"
"No!" burst in Jefferson, "why should she? If my father is not man
enough to do a simple act of justice without bartering a woman's
happiness and his son's happiness, let him find comfort in his
self-justification!"
Shirley, completely unnerved, made a move towards the door, unable
longer to bear the strain she was under. She tottered as though
she would fall. Ryder made a quick movement towards his son and
took him by the arm. Pointing to Shirley he said in a low tone:
"You see how that girl pleads your cause for you! She loves you,
my boy!" Jefferson started. "Yes, she does," pursued Ryder, Sr.
"She's worth a thousand of the Rossmore woman. Make her your wife
and I'll--"
"Make her my wife!" cried Jefferson joyously. He stared at his
parent as if he thought he had suddenly been bereft of his senses.
"Make her my wife?" he repeated incredulously.
"Well, what do you say?" demanded Ryder, Sr.
The young man advanced towards Shirley, hands outstretched.
"Yes, yes, Shir--Miss Green, will you?" Seeing that Shirley made
no sign, he said: "Not now, father; I will speak to her later."
"No, no, to-night, at once!" insisted Ryder. Addressing Shirley,
he went on: "Miss Green, my son is much affected by your
disinterested appeal in his behalf. He--he--you can save him from
himself--my son wishes you--he asks you to become his wife! Is it
not so, Jefferson?"
"Yes, yes, my wife!" advancing again towards Shirley.
The girl shrank back in alarm.
"No, no, no, Mr. Ryder, I cannot, I cannot!" she cried.
"Why not?" demanded Ryder, Sr. appealingly. "Ah, don't--don't
decide hastily--"
Shirley, her face set and drawn and keen mental distress showing
in every line of it, faced the two men, pale and determined. The
time had come to reveal the truth. This masquerade could go on no
longer. It was not honourable either to her father or to herself.
Her self-respect demanded that she inform the financier of her
true identity.
"I cannot marry your son with these lies upon my lips!" she cried.
"I cannot go on with this deception. I told you you did not know
who I was, who my people were. My story about them, my name,
everything about me is false, every word I have uttered is a lie,
a fraud, a cheat! I would not tell you now, but you trusted me and
are willing to entrust your son's future, your family honour in my
keeping, and I can't keep back the truth from you. Mr. Ryder, I am
the daughter of the man you hate. I am the woman your son loves. I
am Shirley Rossmore!"
Ryder took his cigar from his lips and rose slowly to his feet.
"You? You?" he stammered.
[Photo, from the play, of Jefferson and Shirley appealing
to Mr. Ryder]
"For God's sake, Mr. Ryder, don't permit this foul
injustice."--Act III.
"Yes--yes, I am the Rossmore woman! Listen, Mr. Ryder. Don't turn
away from me. Go to Washington on behalf of my father, and I
promise you I will never see your son again--never, never!"
"Ah, Shirley!" cried Jefferson, "you don't love me!"
"Yes, Jeff, I do; God knows I do! But if I must break my own heart
to save my father I will do it."
"Would you sacrifice my happiness and your own?"
"No happiness can be built on lies, Jeff. We must build on truth
or our whole house will crumble and fall. We have deceived your
father, but he will forgive that, won't you?" she said, appealing
to Ryder, "and you will go to Washington, you will save my
father's honour, his life, you will--?"
They stood face to face--this slim, delicate girl battling for her
father's life, arrayed against a cold-blooded, heartless,
unscrupulous man, deaf to every impulse of human sympathy or pity.
Since this woman had deceived him, fooled him, he would deal with
her as with everyone else who crossed his will. She laid her hand
on his arm, pleading with him. Brutally, savagely, he thrust her
aside.
"No, no, I will not!" he thundered. "You have wormed yourself into
my confidence by means of lies and deceit. You have tricked me,
fooled me to the very limit! Oh, it is easy to see how you have
beguiled my son into the folly of loving you! And you--you have
the brazen effrontery to ask me to plead for your father? No! No!
No! Let the law take its course, and now Miss Rossmore--you will
please leave my house to-morrow morning!"
Shirley stood listening to what he had to say, her face white, her
mouth quivering. At last the crisis had come. It was a fight to
the finish between this man, the incarnation of corporate greed
and herself, representing the fundamental principles of right and
justice. She turned on him in a fury:
"Yes, I will leave your house to-night! Do you think I would
remain another hour beneath the roof of a man who is as blind to
justice, as deaf to mercy, as incapable of human sympathy as you
are!"
She raised her voice; and as she stood there denouncing the man of
money, her eyes flashing and her head thrown back, she looked like
some avenging angel defying one of the powers of Evil.
"Leave the room!" shouted Ryder, beside himself, and pointing to
the door.
"Father!" cried Jefferson, starting forward to protect the girl he
loved.
"You have tricked him as you have me!" thundered Ryder.
"It is your own vanity that has tricked you!" cried Shirley
contemptuously. "You lay traps for yourself and walk into them.
You compel everyone around you to lie to you, to cajole you, to
praise you, to deceive you! At least, you cannot accuse me of
flattering you. I have never fawned upon you as you compel your
family and your friends and your dependents to do. I have always
appealed to your better nature by telling you the truth, and in
your heart you know that I am speaking the truth now."
"Go!" he commanded.
"Yes, let us go, Shirley!" said Jefferson.
"No, Jeff, I came here alone and I'm going alone!"
"You are not. I shall go with you. I intend to make you my wife!"
Ryder laughed scornfully.
"No," cried Shirley. "Do you think I'd marry a man whose father is
as deep a discredit to the human race as your father is? No, I
wouldn't marry the son of such a merciless tyrant! He refuses to
lift his voice to save my father. I refuse to marry his son!"
She turned on Ryder with all the fury of a tiger:
"You think if you lived in the olden days you'd be a Caesar or an
Alexander. But you wouldn't! You'd be a Nero--a Nero! Sink my
self-respect to the extent of marrying into your family!" she
exclaimed contemptuously. "Never! I am going to Washington without
your aid. I am going to save my father if I have to go on my knees
to every United States Senator. I'll go to the White House; I'll
tell the President what you are! Marry your son--no, thank you!
No, thank you!"
Exhausted by the vehemence of her passionate outburst, Shirley
hurried from the room, leaving Ryder speechless, staring at his
son.