John Marsh's Millions Part 8

"Not one word against her," he went on anxiously. "I know your first impulses are never friendly."

Mrs. Parkes nodded her head sagaciously.

"If--if she inherits all her father's money--you might do worse."

"No--no, mother," replied her son, shrugging his shoulders. "You're mistaken. I love her for herself--not for her money. Besides, she may not get the money after all. Mr. Ricaby, her lawyer, telephoned last night that there is a new move now against her. You see her father made a will leaving her all his money. Her Uncle James is contesting the will and the estate is tied up and she can't get any of it. She hasn't money enough even to get good lawyers. I think Ricaby's an old fluff. It's a shame the way her relations are trying to do her out of it. How I do hate relations!"

"How can they deprive her of her property if it's hers?" inquired Mrs.

Parkes incredulously.

"I don't know," said Harry, scratching his head. "They're doing it, that's all. Last night after talking to her lawyer over the 'phone she broke down and burst into tears. Said she was all alone in the world--had no one to protect her--and I--mother--human nature couldn't stand it. I--offered to protect her----"

Mrs. Parkes sighed.

"Your father would have done the same," she said.

"Kindly refrain from a.s.sociating my father's name with this matter," he cried impatiently.

Mrs. Parkes seemed lost in thought. Her eyes filled with tears.

"At a time like this I can't forget him--bad as he was--I can't help thinking of him." With a deep sigh, she added: "Well, what did--what did she say----?"

"Nothing," rejoined Harry carelessly, "she looked haughtily at me and walked out of the room. Perhaps I was wrong, mother. I had no right to take advantage of her distressed condition of mind. I'm going to apologize to her. I came away from business early to-day on purpose to do so. It was too soon for a proposal--she doesn't know me well enough----"

Mrs. Parkes tossed back her head indignantly.

"I don't see why you should apologize," she said; "you're as good as she is--and maybe better. If I remember rightly there was some question as to her mother being legally married to the father."

"That's a d.a.m.nable lie invented by her relations so as to deprive her of her rights to her father's estate!" broke in Harry hotly.

"And her father----" went on his mother, "they say he was crazy when he made his will."

"Another lie!" he cried indignantly. "Don't you know that's what lawyers always say about a man who doesn't leave his estate to their clients. And they can get any number of people to prove it, too--if the estate is large enough."

His mother was silent for a moment; then, with an air of unconcern, she asked:

"How much money is there?"

"I don't know--a whole pile. If there wasn't, Bascom Cooley wouldn't be the lawyer for the other side--you can bet on that."

"It's very strange," mused Mrs. Parkes; "she promised me three weeks ago that she'd pay me what was owing."

Harry put his hand in his pocket and brought out a roll of bank notes.

"Here, mother, I'm going to pay that bill. When she gives you the money you can pay me back. I don't want you to mention it to her. Will you promise me?"

Mrs. Parkes looked fondly at her son.

"Is it as bad as all that?" she said.

Harry looked sheepishly down at the carpet.

"Yes--I'm--I'm a goner this time----" he murmured.

"Well," exclaimed Mrs. Parkes, with a laugh, "your father never would have done that. No, Harry, I won't take your money. I can wait. Food is dear, rent is high, and times are hard, but I can wait----"

The young man bounded forward and again threw his arms around her.

"You know, mother, that's what I like about you. You're barking all the time, but you never bite."

Mrs. Parkes, overcome at this unusual display of filial affection, put her handkerchief to her eyes. Whimpering, she said:

"You know, Harry, I always did like that girl. There's something about her one can't help liking. She came here from the swellest hotel on Fifth Avenue and took what we gave her without a murmur. At first I thought she was a leading lady out of an engagement, until I found that she went down to the slums every day and worked among the poor. I tell you I was kinder scared when she told me about her lawsuit. Two years ago I had a young lady who occupied the front parlor and back--and private bath, too. She was a show girl, and she ran up five hundred dollars on the strength of a lawsuit she had against a Wall Street man for breach of promise. She lost the case and I lost my money." With a sigh she went on: "It was your father's fault. He advised me to trust her, but this one's different. Yes, quite different." She stopped and burst into tears: "Harry, my boy, you're all I have. I don't want to lose you--I don't----"

Harry looked distressed.

"Now--now--don't cry," he said. "You won't lose me. You'll get a daughter--that's all."

"G.o.d knows I've always wanted a daughter!"

"Well, let me pick one out for you. I think my judgment is better than yours."

The little door opposite which Harry had been watching so eagerly suddenly opened, and a young woman quietly entered the sitting room. It was Paula Marsh, dressed in her street clothes.

She nodded to mother and son in a friendly but reserved manner, and was about to pa.s.s out through another door into the outer hall without speaking when she seemed to remember something. Opening a small bag, she said amiably:

"Oh, Mrs. Parkes, I was looking for you. I've just come in. Here is what I owe you. I am sorry----"

Mrs. Parkes, all fl.u.s.tered, rose from the chair.

"Oh, please--not now--there's no hurry--not just now. You look so tired--sit down a moment and rest yourself."

Paula smiled at her landlady's solicitude, and, taking off her hat and coat, thrust some money in the elder woman's hand.

"Yes--yes--I insist," she said. "I've been downtown all morning, waiting for my lawyer in a stuffy little office--and even then I didn't succeed in seeing Mr. Ricaby. Nothing makes one so tired as failing to do what one starts out to do."

"Sit down, dear, and rest yourself," said Mrs. Parkes, proceeding to bustle about. "Let me get you a cup of tea--now, do--you look so tired!"

"Don't say that, please," protested the young girl. "It makes me feel ten times more tired than I really am."

"But I insist. The water is boiling," said the landlady, hurrying out of the room. "I won't be a moment. A nice cup of tea is just the thing.

Harry will keep you company while I'm gone." With a mischievous wink at her son, she added, as she disappeared: "Won't you, Harry--like a good boy?"

CHAPTER VII.