"DO YOU REALLY WANT ME?"
I did not sleep well, that night, and as I tossed from one side of my
bed to the other, I began to fear that the insomnia from which I had
escaped, and whose return I so much dreaded, would fasten itself on me
once more. During the long, still hours I had many moments when I was
inclined to give up my plan of travelling in the company of a charming
young woman, and even to drop the entire trip itself. I imagined my
condition in a far land, with no physician at hand who understood my
case or had the history of my illness. Only one who has known the
horrors of sleepless months can conceive the terror which a possible
renewal of its symptoms inspired. The mere thought of meeting my fair
correspondent had deranged my arterial circulation. The sight of her,
our conversation, though carried on in the quietest manner, had thrown
my heart out of equipoise, speaking physically. What would happen when
she and I were alone together for weeks and weeks?
She was very pretty--there was no doubt of that. She was also
marvellously self-contained, and in a conflict of desires would
certainly prove the stronger. Was it not the part of common prudence to
"foresee the evil and hide?"
I had almost decided to adopt this course, when the sleep which had
evaded me descended and for four hours I was blissfully unconscious.
It was nearly eight o'clock when I awoke, and with returning reason all
the fears of the night vanished. I could only count the minutes now
before the expected message would arrive--that message, I assured
myself, which would confirm the hopes I so fondly cherished. Not a
single doubt remained of the perfect wisdom of the double journey I had
planned. I thought again of Dr. Chambers' advice not to travel alone; of
Uncle Dugald's wish that the "genealogy" should be pushed to completion
as rapidly as possible; of the advantage of having with me a constant
companion, to while away the inevitable hours of loneliness. I raised
Miss May to the highest pedestal as a young lady of excellent attributes
and delightful personality.
Whatever happened, I would not go alone. If Miss May failed me, I would
fall back on Miss Brazier. If she also proved obdurate or
unsatisfactory, I would go through my other answers and try again.
But I came back always to the original point. It was Miss May I wanted,
Miss May I meant to have.
Why should I not induce her to go? She needed a situation, or she would
not have written for it. She had seen me and expressed herself candidly
in my favor. There could hardly be anything now in the way, except the
financial aspect of the case, and I was prepared to meet her on any
ground she chose to name.
I lingered as long over my breakfast as possible, to kill the time, and
read the morning papers, advertisements and all. Especially closely did
I scan the "professional situations wanted," thinking perhaps there
might be among them one from which I could fashion another "string to my
bow." Most of the advertisers that morning were, however, either German
governesses, or elderly ladies who wished positions in private families.
There were several professional models, who would "pose" for the figure
at from one to two dollars an hour. In my desperation I almost resolved
to turn painter and carry one of these off with me, if worse came to
worst. Anything was better than making the journey alone, in my present
state of mind.
A knock at the door startled me, and to my faint "Come in," a boy
responded, wearing the uniform of a messenger. I looked at him like one
in a dream, as he walked across the carpet and handed me an envelope.
Was there anything to pay? I inquired, and when he responded in the
negative, I put a silver dollar into his hand for himself. Did I wish
him to wait for an answer? No, I did not. I wished him to get out of the
room as soon as possible, and to close the door behind him; which he
proceeded at once to do.
For what seemed hours, and yet did not probably exceed ten minutes, I
held that envelope in my hand, before I found courage to open it. Laugh
at me, ye who will, your siege with nervous prostration has evidently
not yet arrived. No prisoner awaiting the decision of a governor as to
whether his sentence of death is to be commuted could lay greater stress
on the contents of a message. I wanted Miss May to take that journey
with me, as I had never wanted anything else. Her decision undoubtedly
lay within that bit of paper.
I stared at the name I had given her, written in a bold, and still
feminine hand, strong, clear, handsome. I turned the envelope over and
noted the sealing wax with the impress of some sort of stamp which I
could not entirely make out. And at last, with shaking fingers, I took
up my paper cutter and made the requisite incision which released the
note within.
My Dear Mr. Camwell--[this was the way it read]--Since you were here
yesterday I have given a great deal of thought to the matter of
which we spoke. It is a little more serious than I imagined when I
answered your advertisement, and I am somewhat in doubt even now
what I ought to say. ["When a woman hesitates, she is lost!" came to
my mind.] Will you pardon me for being perfectly frank, [Pardon her?
I would pardon her anything but a refusal] in relation to a few
personal matters? I wish to tell you my exact situation, and then I
will leave it to you to decide. [Joy! It was coming.]
I am at present employed by a man--excuse me if I do not say
gentleman--who pays me what I consider the liberal salary of twenty
dollars a week, my services occupying only a portion of the morning
hours. For reasons which I need not give in full I find the place
very distasteful. In fact, had I been able to afford it, I would
have resigned the position long ago. I am, however, entirely
dependent upon my exertions for a livelihood, and not only that,
there is another who looks to me for a certain amount of help, which
I cannot, nor do I wish to withhold. When I read your notice in the
Herald it seemed to contain two opportunities that I would be glad
to secure. One was to change my situation, the other to absent
myself from the city for a time, where I would escape annoyances
which have become almost unbearable.
Now, on the other hand, as I told you when here, you are a much
younger man that I expected to see. It is a little difficult to
believe--you will excuse my frankness--that you wish my
companionship from a purely business standpoint; indeed, you
admitted that one of your reasons was a disinclination to travel
alone. You cannot deny that a trip such as you contemplate, taken in
my company, would subject me to unpleasant suspicions from any
person we might happen to meet, who has known me before or should
discover that the relationship claimed between us is a false one. A
girl who has her way to make in this world cannot always listen to
Mrs. Grundy, but there are certain precautions which she can hardly
be excused from taking. How can I best protect my good name, if I
accept your generous offer? That is one of the prime questions you
must help me to settle.
Again, while, in a friendly journey like the one suggested, the
matter of compensation seems almost impertinent, in the present case
it cannot be treated as such. Were my circumstances what I could
wish them, I would gladly make the journey without thinking of
payment; candidly, I do not feel that the services I might render
you would justify me ordinarily in accepting money for them.
Necessity, it has well been said, knows no law. I have never learned
how to live and assist those depending on me without cash, that
brutal desirability. You have expressed a willingness to pay a
salary in addition to travelling expenses, and I, if I go, shall be
compelled to accept it, reluctant though I am to do so.
On looking over my wardrobe I find that there are more things
required than I supposed when you were here. When you call this
afternoon I will make that matter plainer by exhibiting exactly
what I have suitable to the climate to which you are going. I do not
wish to influence you in the least, and I beg that if my needs are
greater than you desire to supply, you will say so without fear. All
of the money I could spare was expended very recently for winter
garments, of which I have a supply suitable to a girl in my station.
I had no warning that I should be asked to exchange them at this
season for others suitable to a tropical clime. If I do so, I know
no source from which the cost can come except your purse. There!
Could anything be more candid than this straightforward statement?
If I see you at my room this afternoon, I shall understand that you
appreciate the candor with which I write, and are willing to accede
to my requests. If there is a doubt in your mind as to the
advisability of doing so, it will be best for us both that you do
not come. I shall comprehend and leave the field open to some
happier girl, who may be able to accept your generous offer without
these disagreeable preliminaries.
Yours, M.M.
No. -- West Forty-fifth Street.
I was all impatience till I read the very latest line, fearing there
would be some qualification that I could not meet. When I found that it
had resolved itself into a question so easily solved I sprang up and
shouted in glee.
She would go! She was going! My dream was to become a reality!
Seizing a sheet of paper I began to write a note in response to the one
I had received. She might get it only a short time before the hour of
two, but it would prepare her for my coming, and clinch the bargain a
little sooner. For five minutes I wrote rapidly, and when I stopped to
peruse the lines I tore up the sheet.
Had she been my sweetheart for ages I could hardly have used more
extravagant language than I had been guilty of on that first page. Would
I never learn the first principles of common sense? I had begun with the
words, "My Darling Marjorie," and gone on to state that "your sweet
letter fills me with supreme happiness;" "I shall not breathe until once
more I am in your loved presence.
"Already I contemplate those heavenly hours when you and I will sail out
upon the seas of Elysium," was another sample sentence, a type of the
others. I paused in the rapid walk that I took up and down my room to
look in my mirror, and was almost frightened at what I saw there. My
cheeks were suffused with unusual color, my eyes dilated, my hair
dishevelled, where I had run my nervous hands through it. My collar was
rumpled, my tie disarranged, and in a room where the mercury was not
above seventy the beads of perspiration stood on my forehead.
Dame! I went to the bath-room that formed a part of my little suite, let
the icy water run till it filled the bowl and bathed my hands and face
in it. Slowly I dried them with the towel, and then applied bay rum in
liberal quantity.
I realized disagreeably for the hundredth time how that awful
neurasthenia had left its traces upon me, and that if I was ever to
wholly recover I must regain control of my emotions. With this in view
I again seated myself at my desk and indited the following:
Dear Miss May:--It is with much satisfaction that I have perused
your letter. The amount necessary to purchase the articles you need
shall be left entirely to you. I will furnish whatever sum you
decide upon. I will be at your lodging promptly at two. If there is
anything else that occurs to you, please consider yourself at full
liberty to mention it then. In the meantime I am going to Cook's
office to pay the balance on the two rooms, as the time for doing so
will soon expire.
Your Friend,
D.C.
It was pretty sensible, I thought, as I read it over; a sort of medium
between the cold tone of an ordinary employer and the unrestrained ardor
of a happy boy. I was glad, however, to get out of doors and breathe the
frosty air, for my temperature was still excessive. At Cook's I learned
that several new names had been booked, and that there would soon be no
more room, as things were going.
"I have given Mr. Wesson the upper berth in your room, subject to your
approval," added the clerk. "He has a positive dread of bunking with an
absolute stranger and he says you made him a conditional promise."
"That's all right," I said, pleased at the news. "I am sure we shall get
along together finely. You may register the berth in the opposite room,
that you have reserved for me, in the name of 'Miss M. May.' I have
finally prevailed upon my cousin to go."
While he was entering the name, I wrote a check for the balance, upon
receiving which the clerk handed me the tickets, from New York to St.
Thomas.
"Hadn't you better book for the entire cruise?" he asked. "I don't
believe you will care to remain at St Thomas longer than the day the
Madiana is to be there."
"Oh, yes, I shall," I answered. "I stayed on the island three weeks the
last time, and found it delightful. Probably I shall join some of your
later cruises, but I must go unhampered."
"Supposing when you are ready to take one of the other boats you find
every cabin full?" he asked, in a good-natured way.
"That's a risk I must run. The Royal Mail comes every fortnight, and
there are three or four steamers a week, of one kind or another, at St.
Lucia. There are ways enough to keep moving and I am unlimited as to
time."
"Well, if I don't see you again," he said, with that affability that
only one of Cook & Son's clerks can assume, "I wish you a very pleasant
voyage."
"I am sure to have that," I replied.
I wondered if he would doubt it if he knew all!
Before leaving I purchased several books about the Caribbean, for the
purpose of giving them to Miss May. There was "English in the West
Indies," as entertaining as a romance, though in some respects hardly
more reliable; Stark's "History and Guide to Barbados and Caribbee
Islands," better than nothing, in the absence of a really desirable work
on the subject; and half a dozen paper covered documents, issued by the
Quebec SS. Company, a perusal of which revealed so many discrepancies as
to make one doubt whether the line actually ran any boats to that part
of the world. With these under one arm I went over to the "Lambs" and
partook of a brace of chops and some musty ale. Then, after smoking a
cigar, I found the clock indicating that I might with safety begin my
second pilgrimage to the Mecca of my ambition.
Crossing Broadway, great was my astonishment, and very small my
satisfaction, to come suddenly upon Miss Statia Barton. She was looking
undeniably pretty in her fur turban and cloth jacket, but she had no
charms for me at that moment and I was sorry to lose the few seconds
necessary to be courteous to her.
"Have you deserted us entirely?" she asked, with a constrained smile.
"Tom said this morning he hadn't seen you for nearly a week."
"My time is much occupied," I answered. "You know it is but a few days
now before I sail."
Had I been less full of another subject I should certainly have noticed
that the coldness of my manner hurt her, and I hope I am not brute
enough to do that intentionally. But, I did not think of such a thing
then, nor till a long, long time after.
"Have you arranged the--the other matter?" she asked, with short breath.
"Excuse me. We can gain nothing by talking on that subject," said I.
"Then your charmer has decided not to go with you?" she said,
interrogatively, but with a hard little laugh. "I thought it would come
to that."
I was foolish enough to take out Miss May's letter and hold it up.
"On the contrary, since you insist on knowing," I answered, "here is
the final decision, and it is in favor of the plaintiff."
Her eyes opened as the conviction that I was telling the truth forced
itself upon her. She was evidently not pleased.
"Mr. Camran," she said, in tones as clear and cutting as ice, "I asked
you a moment ago why you had not been to my home. I now say you need
never call there again, as far as I am concerned, and I shall endeavor
to have my brother write you to the same effect."
"Don't put Tom to so much trouble," I replied, stung by her manner. "I
have business too important and too pleasant to allow much time for mere
duty calls."
Lifting my hat, an action that she did not see, as her eyes were bent on
the sidewalk, I resumed my stroll. I should have been more annoyed at
the occurrence if another subject had not so fully filled my head. The
clocks struck two before I reached the number I sought, and I walked
more rapidly.
"Miss May said you were to come to her room at once," said the colored
servant, when she recognized my features. Needing no second invitation I
mounted the stairs.
Her door stood slightly open and as I entered, without knocking, she
rose from a low rocker and came toward me.
I could not have resisted had I been liable to execution for the
offense; I met her in the middle of the apartment and held out both my
hands.
In the most unaffected and delightful manner she extended her own and I
clasped them.
"It is settled, then?" I cried. "You are going!"
"Take a seat," she said, releasing herself composedly. "There are still
a few things that I must talk over with you."
The blood rushed back upon my heart, leaving my face pale. I was very
glad to get the support of the arm-chair to which she motioned me.
"I have recently been ill, as I told you," I said in pleading tones,
"and doubts, whatever their nature, are trying to me. Tell me only
this--you are going?"
She breathed deeply for several seconds and then, with her head slightly
on one side, looked at me.
"Do you really want me to?" she asked, gently.