In Apple-Blossom Time Part 20

"I think I shall never be afraid again. I've sounded the depths of fear in the last week."

The two sat looking into one another's eyes and the appeal in those long-lashed orbs of Geraldine continued the havoc that they had begun.

Her lips were very grave as she recalled the precipice from which she had been s.n.a.t.c.hed.

"I saw that he frightened you terribly that day he gave me such a warm welcome."

"He was going to marry me," explained Geraldine simply.

"How could he--the old ogre?"

"I was to consent in order to save my father's name. I'm going to tell you about it because you're a lawyer, aren't you, and the finest man in the world? I have it here."

Geraldine loosened her coat and felt inside her white blouse for Miss Upton's letter.

Ben laughed and blushed to his ears. "I haven't attained the former yet.

The latter, of course, I can't deny."

Geraldine produced the letter, inside of which was folded that from her father.

"Miss Upton wrote me about you and--"

"You're not going to show it to me," interrupted Ben hastily. "I'm afraid the dear woman spread it on too thick for the victim to view."

"You see, she knew how I hate men," explained Geraldine, "and she knew how friendless I was and she wanted me to trust you."

"And do you?" asked Ben with ardor.

"Yes, perfectly. I have to, you know." She tucked back the rejected letter in its hiding-place.

"And you're not going to hate me?"

"I should think not," returned the girl with the same simple gravity; "not when you've done me the greatest kindness of my whole life!"

"I'm so glad I haven't named the plane yet," said Ben impulsively. "You shall name it."

"There's no name good enough," she replied--"unless--unless we name it for that carrier pigeon that was such a hero in the War. We might name it _Cher Ami_."

"Good," declared Ben. "It is surely a homing bird."

"And such a _cher ami_ to me," added Geraldine fervently.

Ben wondered if this marvelous girl never smiled.

"You were going to tell me how the ogre was able to force you to marry him," he said.

"Yes; I don't like to tell you. It is very sad, and he crushed me with it." The girl's lips trembled for a silent moment, and Cupid alone knows how Ben longed to kiss them, close to him as they were.

"He said that my father forged two checks, and that he only refrained from prosecuting him because of me. He said my father had promised that he should have me."

Ben scowled, and the dark eyes fixed upon him brightened with sudden eagerness. "But that was a lie--about father giving me to him. I have Daddy's letter here." She felt again inside her blouse. "You will have to know everything--how my poor father was his own worst enemy and came to rely for money on that impossible man."

She took out the letter and gave it to Ben and he read it in silence.

"Probably it was a lie also about the checks," he said when he had finished.

"No, oh, no," she replied earnestly. "He showed me those. He said that my father was held in affectionate remembrance at his clubs and among his friends, and that he could ruin all that and hold him up to contempt as a criminal, unless--unless I married him." Geraldine's bosom heaved convulsively. "I have been wild with joy ever since you came," she declared. "If I ever go to heaven I can't be happier than I was flying up from that meadow where there seemed a curse even on the poor little wild flowers but you can see how it is going to keep coming over me in waves that perhaps I have done wrong. You see, Daddy tells me not to consider him; but should I not guard his name in spite of that? That is the question that will keep coming up to me. Nevertheless"--she made a gesture of despair--"if I went through with it--if I married Mr. Carder, I'm sure I should lose all control and kill myself. I'm sure of it."

Here Ben gave rein to the dastardly instinct which occasionally causes a poor mortal to fling all conscience to the winds when he sees an unexpected opportunity to attain a longed-for prize.

"For you to become his wife cannot be right," declared Ben, endeavoring to speak with mature and legal poise; "but as you say, that heartrending doubt of your duty may attack you at times. How would it be to put it beyond your power to yield to his wishes by marrying some one else--me, for instance?"

Geraldine regarded the speaker with grief and reproach. "Can you joke about my trouble?" She turned away and he suspected hurt tears.

"Miss Melody--Geraldine." What Ben had fondly hoped was the judicial manner disappeared in a whirlwind of words. "I'm in earnest! I've thought of nothing but you since the day I saw you with that cut-throat.

It's my highest desire to guard you, to make you happy. Give me the right, and every day of my life will prove it. Of course, I saw that Carder had some hold over you. I've spent all my time ever since that day trying to ferret out facts that could give me some hold on him. I haven't found them. The fox has always left himself a loophole. Marry me to-day: now: before we go home. I'm well known in the town yonder. I can arrange it. Marry me, and whatever comes you will be safe from him.

Geraldine!"

The girl's gaze was fixed on the flushed face and glowing eyes beside her and she leaned as far away from him as possible.

"You really mean it?" she said when he paused.

"As I never meant anything before in my life."

"Have you a mother?"

"The best on earth."

"And yet you would do this to her, just because I have nice eyes."

It was a frigid bucket of water, but Ben stood up under it.

"Yes, I could give her nothing better."

"You don't even know me," said Geraldine. "How strange men are."

"Yes, those you hate; but how about me? You said you liked me."

At this the girl did smile, and the effect was so wonderful that it knocked what little sense Ben Barry had left into oblivion.

"Love at first sight is a fact," he declared. "No one believes it till he's. .h.i.t, but then there's no questioning. You looked that day as if you would have liked to speak to me--yes"--boldly--"as if to escape Carder you would have mounted that motor-cycle with me and we should have done that Tennyson act, you know--'beyond the earth's remotest rim the happy princess followed him'--or something like that. I don't know it exactly but I'm going to learn it from start to finish and read law afterward.

I've dreamed of you all night and worked for you all day ever since and yet I haven't accomplished anything!"

"Haven't!" exclaimed Geraldine. "You've done the most wonderful thing in the world."

"Oh, well, _Cher Ami_ did that. Tell me you'll let me take care of you always, and knock Carder's few remaining teeth down his throat if he ever comes in sight. Tell me you do--you like me a little."

Geraldine's entrancing smile was still lighting her pensive eyes.