Martha got up and spoke quietly.
"Mother doesn't want us quarreling," she said. "You know that. It
makes her feel worse. That's my letter and I'm not going to let you
see it. I won't talk to you now. You're too mad. I'm going
upstairs. You can talk it over together."
Bob sat helplessly down near his wife. He wanted so greatly, so
clumsily to comfort her, that she lifted her face to him. She wiped
her eyes, but her thoughts were too painful.
"Oh, did you hear how she said that? She's in LOVE with him, Bob!"
She wept again.
He answered, shortly: "Well, don't you worry. If she is, she'll have
to get over it. What business has she got being in love with a
married man?"
"It's too horrible! It makes me sick. I see it all now. She has
been infatuated with him since that first night. The way she looked
at him--even then!"
"He's a skunk, Emily. He's a damned skunk. The nerve of him, coming
down here to tell her he was getting a divorce! She thinks she's
going to marry him. Why, the girl's a perfect fool! I'm going to
see Fairbanks about this! Who is he, anyway? I'll get the goods on
him! I'll put an end to this, once for all. Don't you cry, old
girl! We can't have this going on any longer!"
That was true. They could not have this going on. They considered
what to do. But every time Emily thought of the child saying
that--of those words "Richard Quin is getting a divorce"--as if the
words came fresh out of glory, she had to hold her breath to keep
from sobbing. The poor, silly, inexperienced girl, caught in this
trap of pain. They sat there bewilderedly, trying to plan--to hope--
Then Johnnie Benton knocked on the screen and walked into the room,
as he often did. He was embarrassed about something and dead in
earnest. He saw at once that Emily had been crying.
"Oh!" he began apologetically. "I didn't---- I want to see Martha."
Bob, intending naturally to hide the family sorrow from sight, got up
and went to the stairs and called up:
"Martha, here's Johnnie."
He got no answer, and repeated it shouting.
Martha opened her door and answered:
"I'm busy. I haven't got time to see him."
"Come in again later," Bob said to him. "She's dressing, or
something."
But Johnnie wasn't satisfied.
"Well--I want to---- No. This is important. I can't wait. I'm in
a hurry."
Bob shouted up again:
"Martha! Johnnie's in a hurry! It's something important. Come on
down."
Johnnie heard her answer. Emily heard it. There was no
misunderstanding it.
"I'm not coming down. I don't want to see him."
"I'm not going away till I see her."
"What's the matter?" asked Emily, annoyed by his persistence. He
stood there as if he was planted deep in the rug.
"Look here, Mrs. Kenworthy, I want this announced. We're engaged.
Maybe we ought to have told you before, but it's going to be
announced right now."
"Who's engaged?" Bob exclaimed.
"Martha and I."
"Why, _Johnnie_!" Emily babbled. She had suddenly leaned forward,
and was sitting up, looking at the boy.
He grew red, but his eyes never wavered under her scrutiny. He was
dead in earnest, for once. "You ask her to come down," he begged.
Emily got up slowly. Was she, then, waking from a hideous nightmare?
Oh, if it was only some nice boy like Johnnie that could make the
girl's voice shake!
"Martha!" she called up, and her voice was so alive with excitement
that Martha came to the top of the stairs.
"What is it, mother?" she asked, eager for conciliation.
"Come down here, Martha!"
So Martha came down. She came into the living room slowly, warily.
She looked at Johnnie. She looked at her mother inquiringly.
"Martha," said Emily, quietly, "Johnnie says---- You tell her," she
said to him.
"Martha, we're going to announce our engagement to-day. Right now!"
The girl stood looking at him steadily in composed disapproval.
"Whom are you engaged to? Why the excitement?"
"I'm engaged to you, Martha." He wasn't going to be fooled with.
"What a----" It seemed plain that she was about to say "lie," but
she thought better of dignifying his statement by emphasis.
"What makes you say a thing like that?" she asked.
"You know very well what makes me say it."
Bob could not tolerate her indifference.
"Are you engaged to him or not?" he demanded.
"I certainly am not," she said. "Is that all you wanted?" she asked
her mother.
"Now look here, Martha," Johnnie burst out with determination, "it's
time to stop this fooling. That other thing's announced. That's in
the paper. _This_ is going to be announced."
"What's in the paper?" Bob cried, suspiciously.
"Everything except her name. Everybody knows who it is." And
Johnnie stopped short in confusion, looking at Emily. "You were
crying----" he pleaded for his excuse, lamely. "I thought you knew."
Bob had jumped for the paper. "What is it?" he cried.
"I thought, of course, you had seen it." And as Bob urged him, he
pointed to it almost without looking, as if he knew by heart the very
place the words had in their column. And Bob read, spluttering,
gurgling:
"Mrs. Richard Quin, who has been visiting her father, returned this
morning to Chicago to start divorce proceedings against her husband.
She names as corespondent the daughter of a prominent family of this
town."
"I thought, of course, you knew," Johnnie murmured.
"He did," said Martha. "I told them."
Emily had been to look over Bob's shoulder. She was taking the paper
into her own hands, as if, unless she looked at it closely, she could
not believe the words.
"You didn't tell us THIS! You said HE was getting the divorce!" She
had reduced Bob again to spluttering.
"What difference does it make?" she murmured. And Bob could only
echo her words dazedly. But Johnnie was challenging her.
"As soon as I saw you were in trouble, I made up my mind. I'm not
going to wait any longer." There was no mistaking either his words
or his tone.
"Oh!" And then, "Am I in trouble?" She spoke with indifferent
curiosity, as if the idea was unimportant to her. "What trouble am I
in?"
"My God!" Bob shouted at her. "Are you in trouble! Cut that out, I
tell you. You ought to be thankful to get a decent man to marry you,
after this."
She paid no attention to him. She was still looking imperturbably at
Johnnie.
"You think it is a disgrace, I suppose, to have my name connected
with his. So you come over and offer to marry me. To give me your
precious name! Are you going into the movies, Johnnie?"
It is altogether likely that Bob, at this point, would have seized
her by the arm and given her that shaking she had been so long
inviting, if into the room just then had not stalked the cause of
Johnnie's haste. His mother seemed to be perfectly in tune with the
occasion, for she demanded, excitedly, having looked about and fixed
her eyes on Emily:
"What has he been saying? I _told_ you I'd tell the Kenworthys!
Emily, what has Johnnie been saying to you?"
Before Emily could answer, Bob, to save her the trouble, exclaimed:
"He says he's engaged to her!" And then from those four, Emily being
at one side, in less than a minute there came a volley of sharp
sentences, as if they were standing in a circle firing at a target in
the center.
Instantly Mrs. Benton exploded:
"Well, he isn't! He can't be! I will NOT give my consent! He can't
stop school. He never earned a cent in his life. I won't allow him
to marry! Understand that!"