No. 13 Washington Square Part 4

The young man was in earnest, deadly earnest; yet he could not help his wide mouth tilting slightly upward to the right. Plainly there was something here that amused him.

"But, Clara, you don't seem to understand that business--and you don't seem to understand me."

"No, I must say I don't!" she said caustically.

"Well, perhaps I can't blame you," he admitted soothingly, "for I don't always understand myself. But really, my dear, you're not seeing this in the right light. Oh, I'm not going to defend myself. It's sad, very sad, but I'll confess I'm no chromo of sweet and haloed rect.i.tude to be held up for the encouragement and beatification of young John D.

Rockefeller's Bible Cla.s.s. Still, I get my living quite as worthily as many of the guests who grace"--with a light wave of his hand about the great chamber--"this n.o.ble habitation. Though," in a grieved tone, "I'll confess some of my methods are not yet adequately recognized and protected by law."

"Won't you ever take anything seriously?" she cried in exasperation.

"Besides yourself, what is there to take seriously?"

"Don't consider me in your calculations, if you please!" And then with sudden suspicion: "See here--you're not here to try any of your tricks on this house, or on Mrs. De Peyster!"

"I was thinking," said he, smiling about the room, "that you might hide me here till the police become infatuated with some other party.

A fashionable house closed for the summer--nothing could possibly be superior for my purposes."

"I'd never do it! Besides, Mrs. De Peyster's housekeeper will be here."

"But Mrs. De Peyster's housekeeper would never know I was here."

"I can't stand your talk another minute," she burst out. "Go!"

He did not stir; continued to smile at her pleasantly. "Oh, I'm not really asking the favor, Clara. I'm pretty safe where I'm staying."

"Go, I say! And if you don't care for your own danger, then at least consider mine."

"Yours?"

"I've told you of Mrs. De Peyster's att.i.tude toward married--"

"Then leave her, my dear. Even though it wouldn't be safe for you to be with me till the police resume their interrupted nap--still, you can have your own flat and your own bank account. Nothing would make me happier."

"Understand this, Mr. Bradford,--I'm going to have nothing to do with you!"

For a moment he sobered. "Come, Clara: give me a chance to make good--"

"Will you turn straight?" she caught him up sharply. "And will you fix up the affair of the Jefferson letters?"

"That last is a pretty stiff proposition; I don't see how it's to be done. As to the first--but, really, Clara,"--smiling again appeasingly,--"really, you take this thing altogether too seriously."

"Too seriously!" She almost choked. "Why--why--I'm through with you!

That's final! And I don't dare stay here another minute! Good-bye."

"Wait, Clara." He caught her hand as she turned to go, and spoke rapidly. "I don't think I'm so bad as you think I am--honest. You may change your mind; I hope you do, dear; and if you do, write me, 'phone me, telegraph me, cable me, wireless me. But, of course, not to me direct; the police, you know. Address me in care of the Reverend Mr. Pyecroft." Tense though the moment was to him, the young man could not restrain his odd whimsical smile. "The Reverend Mr.

Pyecroft has taken an interest in me; like you he is trying to make me a better man. He'll see that I get your message. Herbert E.

Pyecroft--P-y-e-c-r-o-f-t--remember his name. Here's a card of the boarding-house at which he is staying." He thrust the bit of pasteboard into her free hand. "Remember, dear, I really am your husband."

With an outraged gesture she flung the card to the floor. "There'll be no message!" Her voice was raised; she trembled in fierce humiliation, and in scorn of him. "You ... my husband!"

"Yes, your husband!" he said firmly. "And I'm going to make you love me!"

It was at just this moment that Mrs. De Peyster, ascending from her scene with the reporters, was pa.s.sing without, and it was these last words that she overheard. And it was at just this moment that her knock sounded upon the door.

"Quick, you mustn't be seen here!" breathed Miss Gardner. "The French windows there, and out the back way through the stable!"

With a cat's silent swiftness he was at the windows, Miss Gardner beside him. But in the back-yard stood William, the coachman, sunning himself. That way was closed.

"Into the study," whispered Miss Gardner, pointing at a door, "and watch your chance to get out!"

In the same instant the heavy sound-proof mahogany door closed softly behind him--leaving Miss Gardner in the middle of the room, with heightened color, breathing rapidly. Into the library swept Mrs. De Peyster, followed by Olivetta and Matilda.

There was a lofty sternness in Mrs. De Peyster's manner. "Miss Gardner, I believe I heard you speaking with a man."

"You did." Miss Gardner was stiff, proudly erect, for she sensed what might be coming.

"Where is he?"

"He went out through the window," said Miss Gardner.

"Ah, he did not want me to find out about you. But by chance I overheard him say he was your husband."

"He is." Then with an effort: "But husband or no husband, Mrs. De Peyster, I believe I would be of equal value--"

"I desire no scene, no argument," interrupted Mrs. De Peyster, dignified, not a strident note in her voice--for she never lost her self-possession or the true grand manner. "I believe you will remember, Miss Gardner, that when you applied for your present position two months ago, I told you that I made it a rule to have no servants or employees of any kind who were married. As I desired that you should understand my reasons, I informed you that I had once had a cook and a footman who were married, and who paid so much attention to one another that they had time to pay no attention to me. I then asked you if you were married. You informed me you were not."

"And I was not, at that time."

"Indeed! Then you have married since. That makes your deception all the worse. Remember, Miss Gardner, it was on the distinct understanding that you were unmarried that I employed you. I have no desire to pa.s.s judgment upon you. I try to be fair and just and generous with all my employees. If you had been what you declared yourself to be, and remained such, you could have stayed with me indefinitely. Matilda there came to me as my son's nurse over twenty years ago, and has been with me ever since--happy, as she will tell you, with no desire to change her state whatever."

"N--no--none--none at all!"

Matilda hastily dropped her eyes. Mechanically her eyes noted the rejected card Mr. Bradford had tendered Miss Gardner. Her long habit of perfect orderliness, and perhaps the impulse to hide the slight confusion that suddenly had seized upon her, prompted her to bend over and secure this bit of litter. She glanced at it, would have put it in the waste-basket had that receptacle not been across the room, then thrust it into the capacious slit-pocket of her black skirt.

Mrs. De Peyster continued in her tone of exact justice: "Miss Gardner, you have the perfect right to be married or unmarried. I have the perfect right to have the sort of employees I prefer. But since you are not what you declared yourself to be, I no longer require your service."

Miss Gardner bowed stiffly.

"Matilda, see that Miss Gardner is paid in full to the end of her month; and also pay her one month in advance. And telephone about until you can find me a maid--do not bother about the secretary part of it--a maid who is _not_ married, and who can come at once. That is all."

Matilda, still somewhat pale and agitated, started to follow out the proud Miss Gardner, who gave a swift glance at the study door--while Mrs. De Peyster looked on with her invariable calm majesty.

CHAPTER III

MISTRESS OF HER HOUSE