WHEN THEODORE FORGOT
For the next few days Jordan Morse turned over in his mind numerous
plans to remove Jinnie from Grandoken's home, but none seemed
feasible. As long as Lafe knew his past and stood like a rock beside
the girl, as long as Theodore King was interested in her, he himself
was powerless to do anything. How to get both the cobbler and his
niece out of the way was a problem which continually worried him.
He mentioned his anxiety to Molly, asking her if by any means she
could help him.
"I did tell her I'd write to you," said Molly.
Morse's face fell.
"She's a stubborn little piece," he declared presently. "Theo's in
love with her all right."
"You don't really mean that!" stammered Molly, her heart thumping.
"Perhaps not very seriously, but such deep interest as his must come
from something more than just the girl's talent. He spoke about
sending her away to school."
"He shan't," cried Molly, infuriated.
Morse's rehearsal of Theodore's suggestion was like goads in her
soul.
"If she'd go," went on the man, "nothing you or I could do would stop
him. The only way----"
Molly whirled upon him abruptly.
"I'll help you, Jordan, I will.... Anything, any way to keep him from
her."
They were both startled and confused when Theodore came upon them
suddenly with his swinging stride, but before Morse went home, he
whispered to Molly:
"I've thought of something--tell you to-morrow."
That night Molly scarcely slept. The vision of a black-haired girl in
the arms of Theodore King haunted her through her restless dreams, and
the agony was so intense that before the dawn broke over the hill she
made up her mind to help her husband, even to the point of putting
Jinnie out of existence.
That morning Morse approached her with this command:
"You try to get Jinnie to go with you to Mottville. You wouldn't have
to stay but a day or so. There your responsibilities would end....
I'll be there at the same time.... Will you do it, Molly?"
"Yes," said Molly, and her heart began to sing and her eyes to shine.
Her manner to Jordan as he left was more cordial than since his return
from Europe.
At noon time, when Theodore King saw her walking, sweetly cool, under
the trees, he joined her. Molly had donned the dress he had
complimented most, and as he approached her, she lifted a shy gaze to
his.
"You couldn't take me to-morrow, you're sure?" she begged, her voice
low, deep and appealingly resonant.
Theodore hesitated. Being naturally chivalrous and kindly, he disliked
to refuse, but he had already sent a note to Jinnie to meet him at the
master's Saturday, and it went against his inclination to break that
appointment.
"I don't see how I can," he replied thoughtfully, "but choose any day
next week, and we'll make a real picnic of it."
"I'm so disappointed," Molly murmured sadly. "I wanted to go Saturday.
But of course----"
"I'll see if I can arrange it," he assured her. "Possibly I might go
up to hear her play to-day.... I'll see.... Later I'll 'phone you."
Leaving the house, he headed his car toward the lower end of the town.
He was glad of an excuse to go to Paradise Road. Lafe smiled through
the window at him, and he entered the shop at the cobbler's cordial,
"Come in!"
"I suppose you want Jinnie, eh?" asked Lafe.
"Yes. I'll detain her only a moment."
Bobbie got up from the floor where he was playing soldiers with tacks
and nails.
"Boy'll call Jinnie," said he, moving forward.
The two men watched the slender blind child feel his way to the door.
"Bobbie loves to take a part in things," explained Lafe. "Poor little
fellow!"
"Is he hopelessly blind?" asked Theodore.
"Yes, yes," and Lafe sighed. "I sent him once by Peg to ask a big eye
specialist. He's a good little shaver, but his heart's awful weak. You
wouldn't think he's almost eleven, would you?"
Theodore shook his head, shocked.
"It isn't possible!" he exclaimed.
"He ain't growed much since he come here over two years ago. Jinnie
can carry him in one arm."
"Poor child!" said Theodore sympathetically.
Just then Jinnie came into the room shyly. Bobbie had excitedly
whispered to her that "the beautiful big man with the nice hands"
wanted her. She hesitated at the sight of Mr. King, but advanced as
Lafe held out his hand to her.
Before Theodore could explain, she had told him:
"The master isn't giving me a lesson to-day, but he will to-morrow
because you're coming."
With pride in her voice, she said it radiantly, the color mantling
high in her cheeks. Molly's importunate insistence escaped Theodore's
mind. When with Jinnie, ordinary matters generally did fade away.
"I'm very glad," he replied. "I hope you've progressed a lot."
"She has, sir, she sure has," Lafe put in. "You'll be surprised! How
long since you've heard her play?"
"A long time," answered Theodore, and still forgetting Molly, he went
on, "I wonder if you'd like to come to the house to-morrow to dinner
and play for us. My mother was speaking about how much she'd enjoy it
only a short time ago."
Jinnie's eyes sparkled.
"I should love to come," she answered gladly.
He rose to go, taking her hand.
"Then I'll send the car for you," he promised her.
He was sitting at his office desk when Molly the Merry once more came
into his mind. An ejaculation escaped his lips, and he made a wry
face. Then, in comparison, Jinnie, with all her sparkling youth, rose
triumphant before him. He loved the child, for a child she still
seemed to him. To tell her now of his affection might harm her work.
He would wait! She was so young, so very young.
For a long time he sat thinking and dreaming of the future, and into
the quiet of his office he brought, in brilliant vision, a radiant,
raven-haired woman--his ideal--his Jinnie. Suddenly again he
remembered his promise to Molly and slowly took down the telephone.
Then deliberately he replaced it. It would be easier to explain the
circumstances face to face with her, and no doubt entered his mind but
that the woman would be satisfied and very glad that Jinnie was
coming with her violin to play for them. Molly wouldn't mind
postponing her trip for a few days.
Molly was reclining as usual in the hammock with a book in her hand
when he ran up the steps.
"Molly," he began, going to her quickly, "I want to confess."
"Confess?" she repeated, sitting up.
"Yes, it's this way: When I went out this morning I felt sure I could
arrange about to-morrow.... But what do you think?"
Miss Merriweather put down the book, stood up, her hand over her
heart.
"I can't guess," she breathed.
"Well, I went to Grandoken's----"
"You could have sent a note," Molly cut in.
Theodore looked at her curiously.
"I could, but I didn't. I wanted Jinnie to understand----"
His voice vibrated deeply when he spoke that name, and the listener's
love-laden ears caught the change immediately.
"Well?" she murmured in question.
"When I got there and saw her, I forgot about Saturday. Before I had a
chance, she told me she wasn't going to the master's to-day. Then
without another thought----"
"Well?" interviewed Molly with widening eyes.
"Pardon me, Molly," Theodore said tactlessly, "for forgetting you--you
will, won't you? I asked her to play here to-morrow night."
Molly felt the structure of her whole world tumbling down about her
ears. He had forgotten her for that girl, that jade in Paradise Road,
the girl who stood between her and all her hopes. She took one step
forward and forgot, her dignity, forgot everything but his stinging
insult.
"How dared you?" she uttered hoarsely. Her voice grew thin as it
raised to the point of a question.
"Dare!" echoed Theodore, his expression changing.
Molly went nearer him with angry, sparkling eyes.
"Yes, how dared you ask that girl to come here when I dislike her? You
know how I hate her----"
Mr. King tossed his cigar into the grass, gravity settling on his
countenance.
"I hadn't the slightest idea you disliked her," he said.
Molly eagerly advanced into the space between them.
"She is trying to gain some sort of influence over you, Theo, just the
same as she got over that Jewish cobbler."
Theodore King gazed in amazement at the reddening, beautiful face.
Surely he had not heard aright. Had she really made vile charges
against the girl? To implicate Jinnie with a thought of conspiracy
brought hot blood about his temples. He wouldn't stand that even from
an old-time friend. Of course he liked Molly very much, yes, very much
indeed, but this new antagonistic spirit in her----
"What's the matter with you, Molly?" he demanded abruptly. "You
haven't any reason to speak of the child that way."
"The child!" sneered Molly. "Why, she's a little river rat--a bold,
nasty----"
Theodore King raised his great shoulders, throwing back his closely
cropped head. Then he sprang to refute the terrible aspersion against
the girl he loved.
"Stop!" he commanded in a harsh voice, leaning over the panting woman.
"And now I'll ask you how _you_ dare?" he finished.
Molly answered him bravely, catching her breath in a sob.
"I dare because I'm a woman.... I dare because I know what she's
doing. If she hadn't played her cards well, you'd never've paid any
attention to her at all.... No one can make me believe you would have
been interested in a--in a----"
The man literally whirled from the porch, bounded into the motor,
turned the wheel, and shot rapidly away.