Dick's recovery was very slow. The town was gold and green with
April before he was allowed to sit up in his chair beside the window.
At first he was contented to just sit and watch life and movement in
the street below him.
But as he grew stronger he called for books. So Mother Gregory and
Mrs. O'Hara took turns reading aloud to him.
One afternoon when Gloria was passing his door he called to her.
"Will you see if you can find Stevenson's 'Treasure Island' for me in
the book-cases downstairs?" he asked. Gloria brought it.
"This," he said to her, "is the greatest book for boys that was ever
written. Wait until I have a kid of my own to read it to...."
He broke off, and looked thoughtfully at his wife.
His response to her beauty quickened every day. He would find
something new--a wave in her red-gold hair or the long line of her
neck--that made an exquisite discovery.
He put out a hand now, and closed it around her wrist.
"You're like a little flame," Dick told her. "They said something
when they named you 'Gloria.' You are a glory!"
Gloria moved away from him.
She was thankful when the telephone rang, at that moment.
"Hello, Russet!" It was Stanley Wayburn's voice.
"Hello," Gloria cried, trying to keep her sudden gladness out of her
own.
"I'm homesick to see you," Stan said frankly. "And I have a fine bit
of news for you, too. If I promise to hide all the pictures of my
old sweethearts, will you come over to see me this afternoon?"
Gloria hesitated.
"Come on ... be a sport and say 'Yes,'" Stan urged.
"All right, I will," Gloria answered.
She hated herself for yielding.
But her longing to see Wayburn swept everything else from her mind....
He greeted her jauntily. He tried to put his arms around her, as he
helped her off with her coat. But she slipped out of them.
"What's your wonderful news?" Gloria asked. She took refuge in a
dignity that was new to her.
"Nothing except that I think I've landed a job in New York," he said
carelessly, dropping into a chair opposite her.
Gloria felt as if he had dropped a bomb-shell at her feet.
"Well, of all things!" she cried. "In New York!"
This was the end, then! Stan's luck had changed.
He would have his chance on Broadway. And, of course, he would make
a hit. And she would never see him again ... except from across the
footlights.
"Oh, I can't bear it.... I can't bear it!" she cried, suddenly
bursting into tears. She put her head down on the arm of her chair
and sobbed. Her heart seemed to be breaking.
Stan came over to her, and lifted her head. He looked into her
tear-stained face.
"I haven't gone yet," he said. "There's many a slip 'twixt the man
and his job, you know! ... But you do love me a little, don't you,
Russet?"
He looked down at her intently.
"Do you know you're an awfully sweet little kid?" he murmured into
her hair.
Gloria couldn't speak. There was nothing in the world for her at
that moment but the sound of Stan's voice, the blue of his eyes that
looked down into hers, and his arms that held her.... These, and the
aching thought that soon he would be gone away from her.
"You do care for me a little," he repeated. He kissed her long and
clingingly upon her heavy lips.
Gloria didn't resist him. She seemed to be under a spell, an
enchantment. Her head drooped like a flower that is too heavy for
its stalk. Her eyes fastened themselves on Stan's hand where it
grasped her arm so tightly that it had whitened along the knuckles.
Suddenly she noticed that the sleeve of his gray coat was shiny and
frayed along the cuff. She gave a little gasp of pity.
Wayburn's eyes followed hers to the frayed sleeve.
He freed her, and stood looking at it with a rueful smile.
"I have a suit for every occasion, and this is it!" he said lightly.
Gloria laughed.
The spell that held her was broken.
"It's getting late," she said. "I must go."
Wayburn gripped her by both wrists.
Gloria pulled herself away from him and she put on her hat. From
under its wide brim she looked at Wayburn with distress in her eyes.
"It was dreadful of me to let you know I noticed your raggedy sleeve,
Stan," she said, finally. "But so long as I have..."
She bit her lip in embarrassment.
"Well, go on. What were you going to say?" Wayburn asked impatiently.
"Only this ... you can't go down to New York in that old suit.
You've got to have some new clothes," Gloria answered. "The more
prosperous you look the better job you'll land."
"Nobody knows that any better than I do!" Wayburn said harshly. "But
new clothes don't grow on bushes, Russet. If they did, I'd have
picked off a couple of new suits weeks ago, believe me!"
"If I were a man friend of yours, you'd let me lend you some money,
wouldn't you?" Gloria asked.
Wayburn nodded.
"Well, think of me just as a friend ... not a woman, then," Gloria
went on. "If I could get hold of some money somewhere, to help you
out, would you take it?"
"No, it would be out of the question," Wayburn answered. "No decent
man ever borrows from a woman."
Gloria suddenly remembered the day at the tea-house, when Stan had
borrowed five dollars from her, and forgotten to pay it back. She
remembered the two ten-dollar bills she had left in this very room a
few week before, for him. And she hated herself for remembering.
"If you'd promise to let me pay it back with interest, I might
consider borrowing a little money from you," Wayburn surprised her,
"just to tide me over until I get my job in New York...."
Gloria nodded.
"All right, Stan," she said. "I'll get it for you." And so the
matter was settled.
For the next week Gloria racked her brain, wondering how she was
going to get hold of at least $200 for Stanley Wayburn.
She looked at her engagement ring, her wrist watch, and the little
platinum bracelet Dick had given her for Christmas. She wondered how
much they would bring if she pawned them.
And besides, she hated the thought of giving up her jewelry,
There must be some other way she could get the money.
She was wondering about it one afternoon, as she sat beside Dick.
"A penny for your thoughts, Gloria," he said suddenly. He sat up in
bed, and the book that he had been reading tumbled to the floor.
Gloria bent to pick it up. She laid it on the counterpane.
Instantly Dick's arms were around her.
Gloria wrenched herself out of them, and stood up.
"Don't do that!" she cried sharply. "Let me alone!"
The look of tenderness that had been in Dick's eyes was blotted out.
Gloria knew that she had cut him to the heart when she had snatched
herself away from him. But she didn't care.
"Can't I kiss you any more, Gloria?" Dick asked. "After all, you're
my wife, you know."
"Yes, but I belong to myself first!" Gloria answered. "And I don't
want to be kissed right this minute, as it happens."
The minute she had said it she was sorry.
... How could she have been so brutal to Dick when he was still so
weak and sick? It was not his fault that she had married him without
being sure of herself. His only crime had been that he loved her too
well.
"Don't mind what I say, to-day. I'm in a fiendish mood, I guess,"
she said.
She was. She was in a frenzy of worry ... wondering how to get the
money for Stanley Wayburn.
"I'm sorry I was cross, Dick," she said softly.
But the gentleness in her voice only fanned the slow anger in Dick to
sudden flame.
"There's something behind all this coldness of yours. I'm not
blind!" he flared up. "You can't make a fool of me! ... How about
this guy, Wayburn? You still see him, don't you?"
Gloria gasped. At times like this life with Dick was not lacking in
adventure!
And Gloria, like all women, thrilled to adventure. She knew how to
meet it. It was the breath of life to her!
Moreover, Dick as the Male Proper, in a jealous mood, was much easier
to deal with than Dick the Model Husband. Gloria understood him....
She had learned all about jealousy from Stanley Wayburn.
She went over to Dick and laid her small hand against his mouth.
"Hush!" she said. "You mustn't get excited like this. You'll make
yourself sick! ... And you know that what you're saying is crazy
nonsense, anyway!"
Dick's senses ached with the longing to take her in his arms. The
warm nearness of her made his head go round. But he clenched his
hands at his sides, until the nails bit into his palms.
"I'm tired," he said. "I think I'll go to sleep for a while.
Perhaps you'd better go."
And to his relief, Gloria went. Dick heard the door of her room
close, and the bolt slide into place.