BETWEEN THE FIRES
The discovery of Louise's identity was but a mild shock to Lawford
after all. His preconceived prejudice against the ordinary feminine
member of "The Profession" had, during his intercourse with Cap'n Abe's
niece, been lulled to sleep. Miss Louder and Miss Noyes more nearly
embodied his conception of actresses--nice enough young women, perhaps,
but entirely different from Louise Grayling.
Lawford forgave the latter for befooling him in the matter of her
condition in life; indeed, he realized that he had deceived himself.
He had accepted the gossip of the natives--Milt Baker was its
originator, he remembered--as true, and so had believed Louise Grayling
was connected with the moving picture company.
Her social position made no difference to him. At first sight Lawford
Tapp had told himself she was the most charming woman he had ever seen.
For a college graduate of twenty-four he was, though unaware of the
fact, rather unsophisticated regarding women.
He had given but slight attention to girls. Perhaps they interested
him so little because of his three sisters.
He remembered now that he and Dot Johnson had been pretty good "pals"
before he had gone to college, and while Dot was still in middy blouse
and wore her hair in plaits.
Now, as he walked along the beach and thought of the daughter of his
father's partner, he groaned. He, as well as the women of the family,
knew well the Taffy King's obstinacy.
His streak of determination had enabled I. Tapp to reach the pinnacle
of business wealth and influence. When he wanted a thing he went after
it, and he got it!
If his father was really determined that Lawford should marry Dot
Johnson, and her parents were willing, the young man had an almost
uncanny feeling that the candy manufacturer's purpose would be
accomplished.
And yet Lawford knew that such was a coward-nature feeling. Why should
he give up the only thing he had ever really wanted in life--so it
seemed to him now--because of any third person's obstinacy?
"Of course, she won't have me anyway," an inner voice told him. And,
after a time, Lawford realized that that, too, was his coward-nature
speaking.
On the other hand: "Why should I give her up? Further, why should I
marry Dot Johnson against my will, whether I can get Louise Grayling or
not?"
This thought electrified him. His easy-going, placid disposition had
made a coward of him. In his heart and soul he was now ready to fight
for what he desired. It was now not merely the question of winning
Louise's love. Whether he could win her or not his determination grew
to refuse to obey his father's command. He revolted, right then and
there. Let his father keep his money. He, Lawford Tapp, would go to
work in any case and would support himself.
This was no small resolve on the part of the millionaire's son. He
could not remember of ever having put his hand into an empty pocket.
His demands on the paternal purse had been more reasonable than most
young men of his class perhaps, because of his naturally simple tastes
and the life he had led outside the classroom. Without having "gone
in" for athletics at Cambridge he was essentially an out-of-door man.
Nevertheless, to stand in open revolt against I. Tapp's command was a
very serious thing to do. Lawford appreciated his own shortcomings in
the matter of intellect. He knew he was not brilliant enough to make
his wit entirely serve him for daily bread--let alone cake and other
luxuries. If his father disinherited him he must verily expect to earn
his bread by the sweat of his brow.
It was that evening, after his fruitless call at Cap'n Abe's store,
that the young man met his father and had it out. Lawford came back to
Tapp Point in the motor boat. As he walked up from the dock there was
a sudden eruption of voices from the house, a door banged, and the
Taffy King began exploding verbal fireworks as he crunched the gravel
under foot.
"I'll show him! Young upstart! Settin' the women on me! Ha! Thinks
he can do as he pleases forever and ever, amen! I'll show him!"
Just then he came face to face with "the young upstart." I. Tapp
seized his son's arm with a vicious if puny grasp and yelled:
"What d'you mean by it?"
"Mean by what, dad?" asked the boy with that calmness that always
irritated I. Tapp.
"Settin' your ma and the girls on me? They all lit on me at once. All
crying together some foolishness about your marrying this Grayling girl
and putting the family into society."
"Into society?" murmured Lawford. "I--I don't get you."
"You know what they're after," cried the candy manufacturer. "If a
dynamite bomb would blow in the walls of that exclusive Back Bay set,
they'd use one. And now it turns out this girl's right in the
swim------I thought you said she was a picture actress?"
"I thought she was," stammered Lawford.
"Bah! You thought? You never thought a thing in your life of any
consequence."
The young man was silent at this thrust. His silence made I. Tapp even
angrier.
"But it makes no difference--no difference at all, I tell you. If she
was the queen of Sheba I'd say the same," went on the candy
manufacturer wildly. "I've said you shall marry Dorothy Johnson--I've
always meant you should; and marry her you shall!"
"No, dad, I'm not going to do any such thing."
Suddenly the Taffy King quieted down. He struggled to control his
voice and his shaking hands. A deadly calm mantled his excitement and
his eyes glittered as he gazed up at his tall son.
"Is this a straight answer, Lawford? Or are you just talking to hear
yourself talk?" he asked coldly.
"I am determined not to marry Dot."
"And you'll marry that other girl?"
"If she'll have me. But whether or no I won't be forced into marriage
with a girl I do not love."
"Love!" exploded the Taffy King. Then in a moment he was calm again,
only for that inward glow of rage. "People don't really love each
other until after marriage. Love is born of propinquity and thrives on
usage and custom. You only _think_ you love this girl. It's after two
people have been through a good deal together that they learn what love
means."
Lawford was somewhat startled by this philosophy; but he was by no
means convinced.
"Whether or no," he repeated, "I think I should have the same right
that you had of choosing a wife."
His father brushed this aside without comment. "Do you understand what
this means--if you are determined to disobey me?" he snarled.
"I suppose you won't begrudge me a bite and sup till I find a job,
dad?" the son said with just a little tremor in his voice. "I know I
haven't really anything of my own. You have done everything for me.
Your money bought the very clothes I stand in. You gave me the means
to buy the _Merry Andrew_. I realize that nothing I have called my own
actually belongs to me because I did not earn it----"
"As long as you are amenable to discipline," put in his father
gloomily, "you need not feel this way."
"But I do feel it now," said Lawford simply. "You have made me. And,
as I say, I'll need to live, I suppose, till I get going for myself."
His father winced again. Then suddenly burst out:
"D'you think for a minute that that society girl will stand for your
getting a job and trying to support her on your wages?"
"She will if she loves me."
"You poor ninny!" burst out I. Tapp. "You've got about as much idea of
women as you have of business. And where are you going to work?"
"Well," and Lawford smiled a little whimsically, serious though the
discussion was, "I've always felt a leaning toward the candy business.
I believe I have a natural adaptability for that. Couldn't I find a
job in one of your factories, dad?"
"You'll get no leg-up from me, unless you show you're worthy of it."
"But you'll give me a job?"
"I won't interfere if the superintendent of any of the factories takes
you on," growled I. Tapp. "But mind you, he'll hire you on his own
responsibility--he'll understand that from me. But I tell you right
now this is no time to apply for a job in a candy factory. We're
discharging men--not hiring them."
"I will apply for the first opening," announced the son.
I. Tapp stamped away along the graveled walk, leaving the young man
alone. Lawford's calmness was as irritating to him as sea water to a
raw wound.