Bought and Paid For; From the Play of George Broadhurst Part 26

"Certainly," replied Virginia.

CHAPTER XIII

Mr. James Gillie looked to-day an entirely different person to what he had appeared when he first came courting his wife. He had never lacked a bold front, at any time, but in those early days his salary of $14 per did not permit any great lat.i.tude in the important matter of furnishing his wardrobe. Compelled to be satisfied with the cheapest ready-made garments, the knowledge of his sartorial shortcomings had always exercised a certain sobering effect on him, especially when in presence of his superiors. But now conditions had changed. Thanks to his present employer's liberality, he was able to stamp himself with the hall mark of success. As Robert Stafford's right-hand man, drawing $5,000 a year, self-denial was no longer necessary; he could indulge his taste to the limit. Dressed in a fashionably cut evening dress coat, with white tie and waistcoat, patent-leather pumps and silk socks with embroidered trees, anyone might have easily taken him for a gentleman--until they heard him talk. His speech, crude and slangy as ever, seemed to have lagged behind in his climb toward business and social recognition.

Nor could it be said that the young man, so fertile in ideas, had lived up to all the brilliant promises which he had made. After two years rich with opportunities of a kind which fall to the lot of few men, he had accomplished nothing that was at all likely to prove of lasting or even temporary benefit to his fellow man. Much to his astonishment and mortification, his most cherished inventions had been openly derided as little better than the ravings of a lunatic, and he soon discovered that no one in the railroad office--not even the office boy--took him seriously. He was tolerated by the office staff because he happened to be the husband of the boss' sister-in-law, but no one dreamed for an instant of entrusting him with any work involving responsibility. He was given an occupation in which he would do the least harm, and for his services his millionaire employer, anxious to help his sister-in-law in every way possible, humorously invented quite a novel rate of remuneration. He decided to pay Jimmie exactly ten times what he was actually worth. Thus at first when the clerk was actually worth $5 he was given $50; later when he was worth $10 he was raised to $100. Being quite unaware of this carefully graduated scale of wages, made specially in his honor, Jimmy went to the Stafford office every day wearing the same jaunty self-confident air, convinced that his employer was underpaying him and that he was a very valuable person, indeed.

As he entered f.a.n.n.y ran up to him and kissed him impulsively. Jimmie looked at her in surprise. Comically he remarked:

"What's that for? A touch?"

She laughed heartily.

"Not this time." Looking admiringly at her husband, she added:

"Well, I guess this was some night for the Gillie family, eh?"

"Yes--wasn't it!" exclaimed Virginia, still occupied in preparing for the night.

Jimmie grinned. Good-humoredly he said:

"You were queens--both of you! The others were only deuces!"

"I'd be sure to think that, anyway!" laughed f.a.n.n.y.

"So would anybody with good eyes," he went on. "Honest--I never saw so much paint on a bunch of women in my life! When it comes to complexion, they make the crowd at the French Maids' Ball look like a lot of schoolgirls just out of the convent."

"It was pretty bad," a.s.sented his wife.

"The funny thing," he continued, "was that the old ones were the worst. There was one old party in particular--the one that wore that long fur coat--what a fur coat!--I'm not sure what kind of fur it was, but it looked to me like unborn plush!"

"James!" exclaimed his wife, scandalized.

"Well," he proceeded, "that dame was so outrageously made up that you could have used her face for a danger signal--on the level you could--and yet I'll bet she was so old it would break a fellow just to buy candles for her birthday cake."

"I know the one you mean," laughed f.a.n.n.y.

"Why do they do it?" he demanded with an air of superiority. "Do they think folks are blind? Or does each woman imagine that while she can spot it on every other woman a mile off, n.o.body can see it on her?"

"I think you have guessed it!"

"We were all right, weren't we?" interrupted Virginia with a smile.

"That's what you were!" he exclaimed enthusiastically. Then, surveying his own clothes in the mirror with great satisfaction, he went on: "While we are on the subject, what is the matter with 'yours truly'?"

"Splendid!" cried Virginia, looking him over.

f.a.n.n.y beamed with pride. Laughingly she exclaimed:

"James got a Tuxedo a year ago, but this is the first time he has worn full evening dress."

"Yes," said her husband ruefully, "I felt all right in it except my hands and feet. My hands are no bigger than any other fellow's; but while I had on the white kids I felt there was nothing to me but the lunch hooks!"

"James!" cried f.a.n.n.y, shocked at his vulgarity.

"Honest!" he grinned, "they felt so big that every time I put my foot down I thought I was going to step on one of 'em!"

Virginia looked admiringly at his silk hose.

"What beautiful socks!" she exclaimed.

Drawing up his trousers, Jimmie showed more of the hose above the pump. Grumbling, he said:

"Yes, they're all right. But what I object to is the draught that comes through the open windows! I wouldn't be a bit surprised if I had caught a severe cold in the instep! Pretty good looking suit, though, isn't it?"

"Yes, indeed!" exclaimed f.a.n.n.y, examining the material more closely.

Her husband pointed with pride to his imitation pearl studs.

"And say--what do you think of my near-pearls?"

"I'll get you some genuine ones," laughed his sister-in-law.

"Don't you do it!" he retorted. "I looked the other fellows over and you couldn't tell 'em from mine! If you have any money to invest on me, put it into something that'll show."

"I will," said Virginia, much amused. "And now tell me, what did you really think of the opera, Jimmie?"

First he looked at his sister-in-law to see if she was seriously consulting his opinion; then solemnly he said:

"I hoped I wouldn't have to mention it."

"Why?" she demanded, laughing.

Making a gesture of protest, he exclaimed:

"Won't you please drop the 'Jimmie' and call me 'James'?"

"Why?"

"I'm going to be a millionaire some day," he explained, "and when I am, 'James Gillie' will be bad enough, but 'Jimmie Gillie'--Jimmy Gillie wouldn't sound as though I had a cent."

Virginia nodded. Smilingly she replied: "I see! Well, from this time on it shall be 'James'."