The Lever Part 23

The next day after receiving the message, Covington again found himself within Levy's dingy offices, and this time he experienced no delay in being conducted to the sanctum in the rear, where he found the lawyer ready to receive him with a genial smile and a cordiality which expressed itself in the briskness with which he rubbed his hands together.

"I think you will be well pleased with the rapid progress of our investigations," Levy began.

"I judged so by your letter." Covington was noncommittal.

"There will be no difficulty in having the divorce decree granted to Mrs. Buckner--now Mrs. Gorham--set aside whenever you say the word. Here is the affidavit of Buckner himself, and the fellow is not only willing but eager to push the case through."

Covington took the doc.u.ment in his hand and examined it carefully.

Then: "How would you undertake to do it?" he asked.

"It is a principle of our firm not to discuss methods with our clients.

Results are what count, and our reputation for securing these is perhaps a sufficient guarantee that my statement is based on facts."

"Your position is undoubtedly fully justified," Covington replied, a slight expression of amus.e.m.e.nt showing in his face. "We hardly need to discuss that phase of it, however, as this is probably as far as I shall ask you to go."

"Oh, Mr. Covington, you wouldn't drop a nice case like this, would you?"

Levy begged. "There is a lot of money in it for both of us."

Covington answered him, coldly: "I believe the terms of our business arrangement were clearly understood at the beginning."

"Yes, but it is such a nice case," Levy still pleaded. "You need not appear in it at all if you don't want to. Mr. Buckner can become the plaintiff, and it need not cost you anything. We can make Mr. Gorham pay all the bills."

"That's enough of that," was the sharp reply. "Now, what was it that you found out about Mrs. Gorham's early history?"

Levy accepted the inevitable with equanimity, contenting himself with a gesture which expressed more than words.

"I have learned that after her child's death Mrs. Gorham, then Mrs.

Buckner, disappeared for a period of two weeks, during which time she is alleged to have lived in a prospector's shack alone with him. Do you catch the significance?"

Covington again held out his hand, taking the second affidavit, which he scrutinized with the same care he gave the first.

"This is merely the unconfirmed statement of a prejudiced party," he remarked; "it is of no value unless you could prove it."

Levy smiled. "My dear Mr. Covington, we can prove anything--that is our business."

"Well"--Covington rose--"you seem to have carried out your end of the affair." He drew a roll of bills from his pocket. "Here is the balance due you. If I decide to make use of these doc.u.ments, I will see you again and make a trade. Kindly give me an acknowledgment of my payment."

Levy held up a hand protestingly. "I explained before that we never give receipts--"

"Oh, yes; it had slipped my mind," Covington acquiesced.

"I hope to see you again soon, Mr. Covington," Levy said in parting. "It is a nice case, such a nice case."

The departing client gave no evidence that he heard the words, but after pushing his way to the street he drew a long breath, which might have indicated relief after sitting in the close office, or satisfaction that he held in his possession new weapons which could easily be made useful in case of need.

XVI

The mail-order business came to an abrupt end three months after Alice Gorham became its head. This in no way reflected upon its management, but it was too trifling an enterprise for the Consolidated Companies to retain. Covington was enthusiastic in his reports to Mr. Gorham regarding Alice's proficiency and natural ability along business lines.

This experience had been an interesting and valuable one to her, he explained, but would it not accomplish the same purpose and be better for Miss Gorham--still, of course, under his guidance--to take personal charge of her own property and thus become thoroughly familiar with the various investments?

Gorham heartily approved of Covington's suggestion, and so did Alice. To the former it seemed to offer a natural vent for his daughter's desires; to the girl it appeared as a real promotion. It was not necessary for Covington to explain to his chief that the arrangement actually went into effect several weeks before it was submitted to him for his approval, nor did he take any credit to himself for the handsome profit in certain street railways stock, which netted Alice thirty thousand dollars as a result of her first investment. In fact, he modestly cautioned his pupil to say nothing about it, on the ground that the next investment might show a loss, and her father would be interested only in final results.

During the weeks which succeeded the merger of the New York street railways, Covington was more a.s.siduous than ever in his attentions to Alice, yet, even with Allen's jealous suggestions, the girl saw in them nothing more than a continuation of their previous relations. His skill in manipulating her securities increased her admiration, and the incredible success filled her with joy. She was bursting with enthusiasm, and longed for an opportunity to share her happiness at least with Eleanor; but since the first confidences with her, she had become convinced that her preceptor's restrictions included Eleanor as well.

In spite of the care with which he selected the moment and the words, when Covington actually declared himself it came to Alice not only as a surprise, but as a distinct shock. At first she could not believe him sincere, but he succeeded in convincing her on this point. He interpreted her long silence and evident surprise as the natural expression of a young girl face to face with the most vital problem which ever comes to her. As a matter of fact, had Alice a.n.a.lyzed her feelings, the compound would have proved to be made up in equal parts of gratification, astonishment, and a broken idol. She was flattered that this man should really wish to marry her, she was amazed that his declaration did not arouse in her all those sentimental emotions which she had a.s.sociated with a moment such as this; and she instinctively felt that he could not possibly be the great man she had considered him, to desire what he had asked.

"I thought you and I had decided that I was to be a business woman,"

Alice said at last, questioningly.

"Only for the time being," Covington smiled, well satisfied. "That is all right as a pastime, and you shall indulge in it as much as you like, but Mrs. John Covington will have more of a position to live up to even than Miss Alice Gorham."

"That's just it," she said, slowly. "It doesn't seem to me that I am ready to a.s.sume any 'position,' as you call it. Until you and daddy gave me this chance to do something else besides dances and theatre-parties and all those things we girls fill our time with, I was drifting hopelessly. This tiny bit of responsibility has been just the anchor I needed. What I read means so much more to me, what people talk about is of increased interest because I am just that much more conversant with what is going on; and the dances and the theatre-parties are lots more fun too. What you have asked, Mr. Covington, is enough to make any girl feel proud and happy, but--I don't believe I'm ready yet to give up my girlhood now when I am enjoying it most."

"There need be no haste in your decision," he said, graciously.

"Needn't there? Then you will give me a long time to think it over?"

"Not too long, I hope," he answered, significantly.

"But, truly," Alice's pout was exceedingly becoming, "I don't want to be married at all. Why should I when I am so happy?"

"Isn't that an unusual position for a young girl to take?"

"Perhaps it's because I am young," she admitted, smiling. "But I see so many--what shall I call them?--semi-detached couples, that it makes me wonder."

"Semi-detached?" Covington queried.

"Why, yes," she explained; "you know what I mean: the only way they can live happily together is to live apart."

"You are not very complimentary to me."

"Oh, please!" Alice interrupted quickly. "But you've noticed it, haven't you?"

"We notice many things which do not require personal application. In the present instance I think we possess so many interests in common that our marriage would be considered an ideal one. It would make me very happy."

"You have been so kind," Alice said, looking at him gratefully. "You know that I appreciate it, don't you? But I had no idea--you quite took my breath away, you are so much older than I am, and--"

"Am I so terribly old?"

"Oh, no; I mean it is I who am so terribly young. I never felt quite so young before. I suppose it is the surprise of it all. But you said I might have a long time. I must talk with daddy and Eleanor, you know.

And I shall think it all over most carefully, please believe me." Alice held out her hand cordially. "Will you excuse me now--I really must see Eleanor."

Covington watched the girl in amazement as she hastily withdrew her hand and fled from the room. The self-possessed young woman whom he had met day after day had vanished, and in her place he saw the youthful school-girl, frightened into a loss of self-control by the offer of marriage he had just tendered her. Yet the whole episode amused him hugely. He smiled as he thought of his wife-to-be--the future Mrs. John Covington--running like a frightened deer from the first situation which took her by surprise! It was not as he had pictured it, but youth is a malady from which one's convalescence is ever speedy, and he could enjoy it while it lasted. He found his way to the front door unguided, where he paused for a moment and looked back, as if expecting to see the lithe form of the girl peering over the banister; but no sound came from the floor above, and the staircase was vacant.