Oh, Money! Money! Part 47

"Wouldn't care for YOU if I did for John Smith! Why, you ARE John Smith. What do you mean?" she demanded, her eyes slowly sweeping him from head to foot and back again. "What DO you mean?"

"MISS MAGGIE!" Instinctively his tongue went back to the old manner of address, but his hands still held her shoulders. "You don't mean--you can't mean that--that you didn't understand--that you DON'T understand that I am--Oh, good Heavens! Well, I have made a mess of it this time,"

he groaned. Releasing his hold on her shoulders, he turned and began to tramp up and down the room. "Nice little John-Alden-Miles-Standish affair this is now, upon my word! Miss Maggie, have I got to--to propose to you all over again for--for another man, now?"

"For--ANOTHER MAN! I--I don't think I understand you." Miss Maggie had grown a little white.

"Then you don't know--you didn't understand a few minutes ago, when I--I spoke first, when I asked you about--about those twenty millions--"

She lifted her hand quickly, pleadingly.

"Mr. Smith, please, don't let's bring money into it at all. I don't care--I don't care a bit if you haven't got any money."

Mr. Smith's jaw dropped.

"If I HAVEN'T got any money!" he e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed stupidly.

"No! Oh, yes, I know, I said I loved money." The rich red came back to her face in a flood. "But I didn't mean--And it's just as much of a test and an opportunity when you DON'T have money--more so, if anything. I didn't mean it--that way. I never thought of--of how you might take it--as if I WANTED it. I don't. Indeed, I don't! Oh, can't you-understand?"

"Understand! Good Heavens!" Mr. Smith threw up both his hands. "And I thought I'd given myself away! Miss Maggie." He came to her and stood close, but he did not offer to touch her. "I thought, after I'd said what I did about--about those twenty millions that you understood--that you knew I was--Stanley Fulton himself."

"That you were--who?" Miss Maggie stood motionless, her eyes looking straight into his, amazed incredulous.

"Stanley Fulton. I am Stanley Fulton. My G.o.d! Maggie, don't look at me like that. I thought--told you. Indeed, I did!"

She was backing away now, slowly, step by step. Anger, almost loathing, had taken the place of the amazement and incredulity in her eyes.

"And YOU are Mr. Fulton?"

"Yes, yes! But--" "And you've been here all these months--yes, years--under a false name, pretending to be what you weren't--talking to us, eating at our tables, winning our confidence, letting us talk to you about yourself, even pretending that--Oh, how could you?" Her voice broke.

"Maggie, dearest," he begged, springing toward her, "if you'll only let me--"

But she stopped him peremptorily, drawing herself to her full height.

"I am NOT your dearest," she flamed angrily. "I did not give my love--to YOU."

"Maggie!" he implored.

But she drew back still farther.

"No! I gave it to John Smith--gentleman, I supposed. A man--poor, yes, I believed him poor; but a man who at least had a right to his NAME! I didn't give it to Mr. Stanley G. Fulton, spy, trickster, who makes life itself a masquerade for SPORT! I do not know Mr. Stanley G. Fulton, and--I do not wish to." The words ended in a sound very like a sob; but Miss Maggie, with her head still high, turned her back and walked to the window.

The man, apparently stunned for a moment, stood watching her, his eyes grieved, dismayed, hopeless. Then, white-faced, he turned and walked toward the door. With his hand almost on the k.n.o.b he slowly wheeled about and faced the woman again. He hesitated visibly, then in a dull, lifeless voice he began to speak.

"Miss Maggie, before John Smith steps entirely out of your life, he would like to say just this, please, not on justification, but in explanation of----of Stanley G. Fulton. Fulton did not intend to be a spy, or a trickster, or to make life a masquerade for--sport. He was a lonely old man--he felt old. He had no wife or child. True, he had no one to care for, but--he had no one to care for HIM, either. Remember that, please. He did have a great deal of money--more than he knew what to do with. Oh, he tried--various ways of spending it. Never mind what they were. They are not worth speaking of here. They resulted, chiefly, in showing him that he wasn't--as wise as he might be in that line, perhaps."

The man paused and wet his lips. At the window Miss Maggie still stood, with her back turned as before.

"The time came, finally," resumed the man, "when Fulton began to wonder what would become of his millions when he was done with them. He had a feeling that he would like to will a good share of them to some of his own kin; but he had no nearer relatives than some cousins back East, in--Hillerton."

Miss Maggie at the window drew in her breath, and held it suspended, letting it out slowly.

"He didn't know anything about these cousins," went on the man dully, wearily, "and he got to wondering what they would do with the money. I think he felt, as you said to-day that you feel, that one must know how to spend five dollars if one would get the best out of five thousand.

So Fulton felt that, before he gave a man fifteen or twenty millions, he would like to know--what he would probably do with them. He had seen so many cases where sudden great wealth had brought--great sorrow.

"And so then he fixed up a little scheme; he would give each one of these three cousins of his a hundred thousand dollars apiece, and then, unknown to them, he would get acquainted with them, and see which of them would be likely to make the best use of those twenty millions. It was a silly scheme, of course,--a silly, absurd foolishness from beginning to end. It--"

He did not finish his sentence. There was a rush of swift feet, a swish of skirts, then full upon him there fell a whirlwind of sobs, clinging arms, and incoherent e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.ns.

"It wasn't silly--it wasn't silly. It was perfectly splendid! I see it all now. I see it all! I understand. Oh, I think it was--WONDERFUL! And I--I'm so ASHAMED!"

Later--very much later, when something like lucid coherence had become an attribute of their conversation, as they sat together upon the old sofa, the man drew a long breath and said:--

"Then I'm quite forgiven?"

"There is nothing to forgive."

"And you consider yourself engaged to BOTH John Smith and Stanley G.

Fulton?"

"It sounds pretty bad, but--yes," blushed Miss Maggie.

"And you must love Stanley G. Fulton just exactly as well--no, a little better, than you did John Smith."

"I'll--try to--if he's as lovable." Miss Maggie's head was at a saucy tilt.

"He'll try to be; but--it won't be all play, you know, for you. You've got to tell him what to do with those twenty millions. By the way, what WILL you do with them?" he demanded interestedly.

Miss Maggie looked up, plainly startled.

"Why, yes, that's so. You--you--if you're Mr. Fulton, you HAVE got--And I forgot all about--those twenty millions. And they're YOURS, Mr.

Smith!"

"No, they're not Mr. Smith's," objected the man. "They belong to Fulton, if you please. Furthermore, CAN'T you call me anything but that abominable 'Mr. Smith'? My name is Stanley. You might--er--abbreviate it to--er--' Stan,' now."

"Perhaps so--but I shan't," laughed Miss Maggie,--"not yet. You may be thankful I have wits enough left to call you anything--after becoming engaged to two men all at once."

"And with having the responsibility of spending twenty millions, too."

"Oh, yes, the money!" Her eyes began to shine. She drew another long breath. "Oh, we can do so much with that money! Why, only think what is needed right HERE--better milk for the babies, and a community house, and the streets cleaner, and a new carpet for the church, and a new hospital with--"

"But, see here, aren't you going to spend some of that money on yourself?" he demanded. "Isn't there something YOU want?"

She gave him a merry glance.

"Myself? Dear me, I guess I am! I'm going to Egypt, and China, and j.a.pan--with you, of course; and books--oh, you never saw such a lot of books as I shall buy. And--oh, I'll spend heaps on just my selfish self--you see if I don't! But, first,--oh, there are so many things that I've so wanted to do, and it's just come over me this minute that NOW I can do them! And you KNOW how Hillerton needs a new hospital."

Her eyes grew luminous and earnest again. "And I want to build a store and run it so the girls can LIVE, and a factory, too, and decent homes for the workmen, and a big market, where they can get their food at cost; and there's the playground for the children, and--"