Jewel Weed Part 15

"You know, d.i.c.k, the attention that seems like a trifle to you, with a life full of interests, may look like a serious affair to her."

"See here, old man, you needn't be so snippy. Must I confine my philanthropy to the old and ugly to keep it above suspicion? I'm just so far interested in this, and no more, that I'm sorry for that little girl, and if I saw a chance, I'd do her a good turn, as I pa.s.s along; and if I didn't think more of you than of any other man, I wouldn't give you the satisfaction of rendering so much of an account of myself."

Ellery was silent and looked at the river with its whirlpools, at the cliffs, gray with stone and pale green with May, and sometimes at d.i.c.k, who leaned forward with his chin in his hand, apparently absorbed in thought, but occasionally shooting a glance at Lena who laughed and chattered with Mr. Nolan in a sort of intermittent fever.

The steamer tooted and splashed at the landing below the fort, and turned herself about for the return trip. Sand-martins dropped from their holes in the cliffs and skimmed across the bows, and the breeze blew fresher as they headed up stream. Still the two friends sat in silence, though once Percival looked across and laughed, as though he enjoyed the other's seriousness.

"Norris, you are funny," he said.

"Why?"

"You always see consequences to things."

"Most things have both causes and effects," Ellery retorted, ruffled.

"I deny it," said d.i.c.k.

When they creaked at the dock, d.i.c.k suddenly pushed forward so that he almost touched Lena in the crowd that was hurrying to sh.o.r.e.

"Good afternoon, Miss Quincy," he said. "I hope you have enjoyed this little sail as much as I have."

Knowing that he had watched her ever since they started, she looked up at him with flushed inquiry.

"Yes, it was lovely," she said.

"Come on, Lena," exclaimed her escort, seizing her arm. "I guess we ought to hurry. There'll be an awful crowd on the street-cars."

"If you'll allow me," said d.i.c.k, "I have an automobile up near the Falls, and I'd be delighted to--"

"We come by the cars and I guess they're good enough for us to go home by," Mr. Nolan interrupted roughly. "We're blocking the way here. Come, Lena." He glowered at d.i.c.k's lifted hat and added quite audibly: "Confound the dude! Thought he could cut in, did he?"

"Now then," said d.i.c.k as he dropped back, "the oaf made a mistake. If he'd gracefully accepted my offer, he'd have gone up several pegs in her estimation. As it is, when her pretty little feet get trodden on by the crowd on the back platform, she will view us with regret as we whizz by.

Poor little Andromeda!"

They loitered as the other "trippers", now filled with zeal to catch the trolley, pushed past them up the glen, and soon they were practically alone. Nature rea.s.serted her sway as though there had never been laughter and babble along the musical stream and under the over-arching trees. The friends walked more and more slowly. A white thing lay on the path before them, and d.i.c.k stooped to pick it up, while Ellery looked on with mild curiosity.

"It's a letter, stamped and sealed." Percival peered at it closely, for though the level sunlight flooded the tops of the trees, down here by the stream it was fast growing dark.

"Not much sealed, either," he added, noticing what a tiny spot of the flap stuck tight to the paper beneath. "Some one has dropped it here. By Jove, Ellery, it's addressed to William Barry! I'd give a farm in North Dakota to know what's in it."

He turned it again and stared at the back.

"I noticed," said Ellery, "that there was a mail-box near where we left the automobile. You can post it as we go along."

"Yes," a.s.sented d.i.c.k. He glared at the name of William Barry as though it fascinated him. Then he tucked the letter into his breast pocket.

As the motor began to champ its bit, Norris remarked:

"You forgot to mail that letter, d.i.c.k."

"So I did," said d.i.c.k. "No matter. I'll post it in town. It will go all the quicker."

CHAPTER IX

AN INVITATION

A full month slipped away after the little excursion down the river before d.i.c.k saw Lena Quincy again. In fact he had almost forgotten her.

That day, if it was recalled at all, was chiefly memorable because it marked a change in his att.i.tude toward his chosen occupation. It seemed that revelation after revelation poured upon him. The intricate threads of city politics fascinated him more and more as he began to understand whence they led and whither.

But one day on the street d.i.c.k met and pa.s.sed Lena. She gave him a little bow--wistful, it seemed to him, and she looked tired and thin.

His conscience smote him. He had really meant to do a common kindly thing to cheer this girl, but it had slipped his mind. That night he hunted up her address in his note-book and found his way to the dismal lodging-house.

Four cheap-looking young persons were loitering in the parlor, two were drumming on a piano that was out of tune, and the room smelled fusty.

The a.s.sembled group giggled and disappeared upon his entrance, and Lena, when she came down the stairs, flushing with embarra.s.sment and pleasure, looked as much out of place as he felt. He stood before her, hat in hand. It would be impossible to talk to her in such a room.

"Miss Quincy," he said, "it is such a perfect night that it is neither more nor less than self-torture to stay indoors. Can't you be a bit unconventional and go out with me to the band concert in the park?" He remembered that she went about with the oaf.

Lena hesitated. She realized that this call was a crucial affair to her, though his long delay in coming proved it to be a casual matter to Mr.

Percival. She must make no mistake. In her instant's hesitation, while her soft eyes were looking inquiringly into his face, she had an inspiration.

"I should love it, Mr. Percival," she said with that little air of reserve that set her apart. "But don't you see, I--I--can't go with you--until--until you know my mother and unless she approves."

"Of course," said d.i.c.k, quite unconscious of Lena's play-acting.

Lena turned and twisted a bit of worn blue plush tr.i.m.m.i.n.g on the shelf over the gas-log before she showed him a blushing face.

"The only thing I can do is to ask you to come up stairs and meet mother. She can hardly move about enough to come down."

She led the way with anxiety in her heart as to how her mother would behave. Would she show irritable astonishment if Lena treated her with gentle deference, and asked her permission to be out in the evening with a strange young man? But Mrs. Quincy knew a thing or two as well as her daughter, and d.i.c.k saw only that the room was very ugly, that Lena moved about with lips compressed and voice gentle and full of tender consideration, to make her mother as comfortable as possible before she went away.

"And I shan't keep you up late, mother, dear," Lena said with a final kiss that made Mrs. Quincy wink to keep back the statement that she saw herself waiting for the return of her daughter.

The fresh evening air was delicious after this. d.i.c.k felt all his chivalry again stirred. It made no difference that Lena said little to keep up her share in the conversation. d.i.c.k was content to do the entertaining himself, and satisfied when Lena laughed. He bubbled over with fancies old and new, and even the old ones took fresh life. The college stories and jokes that everybody knew, the commonplaces of his world, set Lena exclaiming with delight. The excitement of the night, and they two alone in the crowd, made the little girl cling to his arm for fear they might be separated! There were quieter moments when they wandered to the outskirts and found a bench for a moment's rest.

Once he spoke of some of the rough sides of her work, and she answered quietly that she was used to such things and managed to forget their hardship. d.i.c.k glanced at her face, self-contained in the gas-light. He remembered her mother and the ugly room. He had a vision of a sweet spirit bearing an adverse fate with dignity, and now giving him, in return for his small act of courtesy, the perfume of her presence, her beauty, her wondering admiration. For the time it seemed to Lena herself that she was what he fancied her. She was only showing him, she thought, the best side of herself. It was natural that she should hide the other.

The clock in the steeple far above tinkled out ten, and Lena drew herself to attention.

"Oh, not yet," d.i.c.k exclaimed. "Let's go somewhere and get an ice."

Again Lena hesitated. Even so small a luxury tempted her for its own sake, and she liked to be with Mr. Percival. With Jim Nolan she would have gone in a moment, but she was determined that this man should not think her too easy of access.

"I think not," she said reluctantly. "I must go home to mother. She isn't used to being up late, and she needs my help."