The Definite Object Part 21

"G.o.d bless you for a generous soul!" said he, and laughed rather queerly; also his grey eyes were a little brighter than usual. "Why should you trust me so far?"

"Well, you look honest, I guess. An' then we all help each other in Mulligan's now an' then, one way or another; we jest have to. There's Mrs. Bowker, third floor--the tea an' sugar as I've loaned that woman--an' last week a lovely beef-bone! Well, there! But if you want the loan of that twenty-five--"

"Mrs. Trapes, I don't. Things aren't so desperate as that yet. All I need is a job of some sort."

"What kind o' job?"

"I'm not particular."

"Well--what have you been used to?"

"Alas, Mrs. Trapes, hitherto I have lived a life of--er--riotous ease!"

"That means as you ain't worked at all, I guess. Hm!" said Mrs. Trapes, viewing him with her sharp, hawk's eye, "and yet you ain't got the look of a confidence man nor yet a swell crook, consequently I take it you was the only son of your father an' lost all he left you, eh?"

"Mrs. Trapes, you are a truly wonderful woman!"

"T' be born the only son of a rich father is a pretty bad disease, I reckon!" she continued, "yes, siree, it's bad for the child an' worse for the man; it's bound to be his ruination in the end--like drink! And talkin' o' drink, I'm glad to see that b'y Arthur's so fond o' you."

"Oh, why?"

"Because you don't drink."

"Well, I don't go to bed in my boots, do I, Mrs. Trapes? But then I promised you I wouldn't, and, for another thing, I'm not a poet, you see," said he and yawned lazily.

"Hermy says she's glad too."

Mr. Ravenslee cut short his yawn in the middle.

"Hermione? Did she say so? When?"

"Ah, I guessed that would wake ye up a bit!" said Mrs. Trapes, noting his suddenly eager look. "It's a pity you're so poor, ain't it?"

"Why? What do you mean?"

"I mean if you had been in a good situation an' making good money--twenty-five per, say--you might have asked her."

"Asked her?" repeated Ravenslee, staring, "asked her what?"

"Why, t' marry you, o' course," nodded Mrs. Trapes. "You love her about as much as any man can love--which is sometimes a thimbleful an'

sometimes a bit more--but you sure love her as much as a man knows how, I guess. An' don't try for ter deny it, Mr. Geoffrey, I ain't blind, leastways I can see a bit out o' one eye sometimes--specially where Hermy's concerned, I can so. Of course, you ain't worthy of her--but then no man is, to my mind!"

"No, I'm not worthy of her, G.o.d knows!" said Ravenslee, quite humbly.

"An' Hermy's goin' to marry a man with money. Her heart's set on it--firm!"

"Money!" said Ravenslee, scowling. "She seems anything but mercenary."

"Mercenary!" cried Mrs. Trapes, "I should say not! I tell ye, she could be a-rollin' around in a six-thousand-dollar automobile at this very hour if she was that kind. With her face an' figure! She could so!"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean as there's men--rich men, an' married too--as is mad after her--"

"Ah!" said Ravenslee, frowning again.

"You may well say 'ah!'" nodded Mrs. Trapes. "Men is all beasts more or less! Why, I could tell you things--well, there! Hermy ain't no innocent babe but there's some things better than innocence an' that's a chin--will-power, Mr. Geoffrey. If a woman's sweet an' strong an'

healthy like Hermy, an' got a chin--nothin' can harm her. But beauty like hers is a curse to any good woman if she's poor, beauty being a quick-seller, y' see!"

"Yes, I see--I know!" said Ravenslee, clenching his hands and frowning blacker than ever.

"But," continued Mrs. Trapes, and here she leaned forward to touch him with an impressive, toil-worn hand, "Hermy Chesterton's jest a angel o'

light an' purity; she always has been an' always will be, but she knows about as much as a good girl can know. She's seen the worst o' poverty, an' she's made up her mind, when she marries, to marry a man as is a man an' can give her all the money she wants. So y' see it ain't no good you wastin' your time danglin' around after her an' sighin'--now is it?"

"Why, no, Mrs. Trapes, I think I'll speak to her to-night--"

"My land! ain't I jest been tryin' to show you as you ain't a fit or worthy party to speak, an' as you won't have a chance if you do speak, her 'eart bein' set on wealth? But you can't speak--you won't speak--I know you won't!"

"Why not?"

"First, because t' night she's away at Englewood makin' a dress for Mrs.

Crawley as is very fond of her. An' second, because you ain't the man to ask a girl to marry him when he ain't got nothin' t' keep her on--you know you ain't!"

"Which brings us back to the undoubted fact that I must get a job--at once."

"Hm!" said, Mrs. Trapes, viewing his clean-cut features and powerful figure with approval, "what could y' do?"

"Anything, so long as I can make good, Mrs. Trapes. What should you suggest?"

"Well," said Mrs. Trapes, caressing an elbow thoughtfully, "grocers'

a.s.sistants makes good money--an' I know Mr. Smith wants a b.u.t.terman."

"Good," nodded Ravenslee, "I should like to batter b.u.t.ter about--"

"Are ye used to b.u.t.ter?"

"Oh, I've a decided taste for it!"

"Know much about it?"

"Certainly--it is a yellowish, fatty substance concocted by human agency supposedly from the lacteous secretion of the graminivorous quadruped familiarly known as the common (or garden) cow."

"Land sakes!" said Mrs. Trapes, drawing a deep breath, "you sure do know something about it. Ever worked in it before?"

"Only with my teeth."

"Oh--quit your jollying, Mr. Geoffrey, if you want me t' help you!"

"Solemn as an owl, Mrs. Trapes!"