The Empty Sack Part 41

"Does she-does she know what I've done?"

She threw it off, as if casually.

"She knows all that's been in the papers; and I don't believe they've left anything out, not judging by the things they've said."

"How's Gussie? How's Gladys?"

Having answered these questions to the best of her ability, Jennie raised the subject of what she could bring him to eat. The guard who had remained in the room informed her that she could bring him anything, at which she promised to return next day. For the minute she was at the end of her forces. If she went on much longer they would snap.

"I'll run away now, Ted," she said, rising. "It's splendid to see you so bucked up. I'll be here again about this time to-morrow, and bring you something nice. Momma's busy already making you a fruit cake." She added, as she held him by the hand, "I suppose you'll have to have a lawyer."

A memory came to him like that of something heard while under an anaesthetic.

"I think the judge said this morning that he'd appoint some one to-to defend me."

"Oh, we'll do better than that," she smiled, cheerily. "I've got some money. We'll have a lawyer of our own."

The journey home was the hardest thing Jennie had ever had to face.

Teddy! Teddy! Teddy brought to this! It was all she could say to herself. The bare fact dwarfed all its causes, immediate or remote.

Eager for privacy in which to sob, she was speeding along Indiana Avenue when, happening to glance in the direction of her home, she saw Gladys standing on the sidewalk. Gladys, having at the same minute perceived her, started with a violent bound in her direction. She, too, had a newspaper in her hand, leading Jennie to expect a repet.i.tion of Gussie's episode that morning.

It was such a repet.i.tion, and it was not. It was, to the extent that Gladys had been informed of Teddy's drama much as her elder sister at Corinne's, though later in the day. At a minute when trade was slack and Gladys ruminantly chewing gum, Miss Hattie Belweather, a cash girl in the gloves, slipped up to her to say:

"Oh, Gladys Follett, if you knew what Sunshine Bright's been saying about you, _you'd_ never speak to her again!" Hattie Belweather, who had the blank, innocent expression of a sheep, having paused for the natural inquiry, went on breathlessly. "She says your brother Teddy robbed a bank and killed a man and is in jail over at Ellenbrook and-"

Such foolish calumny Gladys could so far contemn as to say with quiet force:

"You tell Sunshine Bright that the next time I go by the notions I'll stop and break her neck. See?"

Hattie Belweather, having sped away to carry this challenge, Gladys found herself confronted by Miss Flossie Grimm, a saleslady in the stockings, to which department Gladys herself in a minor capacity was also attached. Feeling that the Follett child was ignorant of facts of which she should be in possession, Miss Grimm said, reprovingly:

"You've got a chunk of gall! Look at that!"

_That_ was one of the papers giving the story of Teddy's downfall, so that Gladys, too, was soon making her way homeward. But she was not a cash girl for nothing, while the instincts of the city _gamine_ endowed her with alertness of mind beyond either of her sisters. She remembered that the paper she had seen was a morning one, and that by this hour those of the afternoon would be on the news stands. They would not only give further details, but might possibly tell her that the whole story was untrue. Somewhere she had heard that among the New York evening papers one was renowned for solemnity and exact.i.tude. Veracity costing a cent more than she usually spent for the evening news, when she spent anything, which was rare, she felt the occasion worth the extravagance.

In these pages, Teddy's case was condensed into so small a paragraph that she had difficulty in finding it; but during the search she lighted on something else. It was something so extraordinary, so unbelievable, so impossible to a.s.similate, as to thrust even Teddy's situation well into the second place.

After that, all the known methods of locomotion were slow to Gladys in her efforts to reach home; but before she could enter the house she had seen Jennie advancing up the avenue, and so ran back to meet her.

"Oh, Jen! Look!"

It was all she had breath to say, so that Jennie naturally did as she was bidden. But she, too, found the paragraph thrust beneath her eyes extraordinary, unbelievable, and impossible to a.s.similate, though for other reasons than those that swayed her sister.

_Collingham-Follett._ On May 11th, at St. t.i.tus's Rectory, Madison Avenue, by the Rev. Larned Goodbody, Robert Bradley Collingham, Jr., of Marillo Park, N. Y., to Jane Scarborough Follett, of Pemberton Heights, N. J.

Of the many things Jennie didn't comprehend, she comprehended this paragraph least of all. Who had put it in the paper, and what did it mean? She walked on dreamily, Gladys trotting beside her, a living interrogation point.

"Oh, Jen, what's it all about? Are you married to him really?"

Jennie answered as best she knew how.

"Not-not exactly."

But here Gladys was too quick for her.

"If you're married to him at all, it's got to be exactly, hasn't it?"

"I-I did go through-through the ceremony."

"Well then, you've got the law on him," Gladys declared, earnestly.

"He'll have to pay you alimony anyhow."

"I-I don't want him to pay me anything."

"Not pay you anything, and him with a wad as big as a haystack? Oh, Jen, you're not going dippy like poor momma, are you?"

Jennie wondered if she was. It seemed to her as if she could stand little more in the line of revolution without her mind giving way.

And yet within a few minutes she received another shock. It came through Gussie, who ran to meet them at the door.

"For mercy's sake, Jen, what's all this about?"

She fluttered a yellow envelope, on which the address was typewritten.

_Mrs. Bradley Collingham, Jr._ Care _Mrs. Follett_ _11 Indiana Avenue_ _Pemberton Heights, N. J._

"I told the boy it didn't belong here-" Gussie was beginning to explain when Gladys interrupted.

"Yes, it does. Read that."

Gussie read and read again.

"Well, of all-" She stopped only because she lacked the words with which to continue.

In the meanwhile Jennie had opened her telegram and read:

Have asked father to engage best counsel in New York to defend boy. Sailing to-morrow on _Venezuela_, and will take all responsibilities off your hands. Placed two thousand dollars to your account at Pemberton National Bank. See manager. Devoted love. Your husband, _Bob_.

Jennie let the yellow slip flutter to the entry floor while she stood gazing into the air. Gussie having picked it up, the two younger sisters read it together.

"Some cla.s.s!" Gladys commented, dryly.

But Gussie could only stare at Jennie awesomely, as if a miracle had transformed her.