The Lever Part 38

"I'm not alone," she insisted. "Riley is down-stairs in my pony cart.

Phillips didn't know where you lived, but he's only a groom, so I brought Riley. Now, how shall we get rid of him, and have you made a hundred thousand dollars with my money?"

"I'm ashamed to say I haven't--I was too late. The storks had all gone South for the winter, but I must give you back your bank."

Allen turned into his room, closely followed by Patricia.

"Then you haven't money enough to get married?" she asked in a pathetic little voice. Suddenly her face brightened. "But I don't mind; I'll keep house for you without any money; and storks always come to newly married people, I've heard them say so."

"We couldn't do that, Lady Pat; we'd starve to death unless we ate the storks. Come, let's go and find Riley."

But Riley's anxiety had resulted in his antic.i.p.ating them, and the familiar face at that moment showed above the stairway, as the old man approached them, out of breath.

"Ah, there ye are, praise be ter th' Virgin Mary," he panted. "Ah, sich a mess as ye're gettin' poor old Riley in. I cudn't hilp it, Misther Allen, I cudn't nohow," heading off any criticism from that quarter--"she wud have it, and that's th' ind iv it. I'm thinkin' that's why they named her Miss Pat--'tis th' Irish persistency iv her name that crops out, an' th' cajolery. I cudn't hilp it, nohow."

"Of course he couldn't help it." Patricia a.s.sented. "I had to see you, and some one had to show me where you lived. But you may go now if you want to, Riley."

"We had better come inside and talk it over--if we can get in," Allen suggested, opening the door again, and pushing the things one side.

"Ah, Misther Allen--all ye'er clothes will be spiled, kickin' 'round like this. Shall I fold 'em up an' put 'em in th' thrunks fer ye, sor?"

Riley was in his element again, and Allen grasped at the old man's offer with an eagerness not a.s.sumed.

"That's just the thing," he said. "You pack the trunk, Riley, while Lady Pat and I sit on the window-seat and have a little visit."

"Here are my things, too, Riley." Patricia handed the old man her satchel and book. "Perhaps you'd better pack those on top."

"Why should I pack thim in Misther Allen's thrunk?" he demanded.

"Because we're going away to be married," she announced, grandly. "You are the first one in the family to know it, and you mustn't tell."

Riley started to speak, but a signal from Allen silenced him; so he continued his work, bringing order out of chaos so quickly that he won instant admiration.

"Now, look here, Lady Pat," said Allen, kindly, as the child sat on her heels in front of him on the window-seat, "we must talk this matter over very carefully."

"Yes, Sir Launcelot," Patricia a.s.sented, expectantly.

"In the first place, I have made your father very angry with me."

"Were you a naughty boy?"

"He thinks so, and he must be right; but it wouldn't do to make him any more angry by taking you away without his permission. You see that, don't you?"

"But they wouldn't blame you--they'd blame me," the child persisted.

"Alice would frown at me and say 'Pa-tri-ci-a.' Papa would be severe and say, 'I shall have to ask mamma Eleanor to punish you,' and mamma Eleanor would look sad and say, 'Oh, my darling,' But she'd forget all about it as soon as I kissed her."

"No; they would blame me, because I'm older--and, besides, a true knight could never stand by and see his Lady Fair blamed, could he? The only thing is for me to go away, and for you to go back home with Riley, and then, later, for me to storm the castle and carry you off."

"But if you did that, you might carry off Alice instead of me," she objected.

"That's so," Allen a.s.sented, laughing, "unless she hurries up and gets married. That was our agreement, Lady Pat--as long as Alice is free, we can't make any plans for ourselves."

"Wouldn't it be grand to have you storm the castle and carry me off!"

Patricia was quite taken by the idea. "Anyhow, next to Alice, you love me best, don't you, Sir Launcelot?"

"I certainly do," Allen said, truthfully. "Now, you'll go home with Riley and wait to see what happens, won't you?"

"All right," the child said, entirely satisfied. "Gee, but I wish Mr.

Covington would hurry up!"

Patricia rose obediently and took Riley's hand, as they left the room.

"Wit ye well," she said as she bade Allen good-bye at the elevator. "I shall wait at the window with a silken ladder every night until you come."

Allen turned slowly back into his room, closed the door, and sat down alone on the window-seat which had so recently also sustained his animated little companion. Not until now had the full force of the wrench come upon him, and he was conscious of a lump in his throat as he thought of Alice, first always, then of Mr. Gorham, and last of the city itself. During the months since he had accidentally met Alice in Washington, there had never been a wavering of his purpose. She was the one girl to him among the many he met during the social rounds into which he had plunged while living in New York. He had been undaunted by her att.i.tude, undismayed by the seeming hopelessness of it all--but now her very sympathy proved to him the necessity of at last giving up the one great hope upon which he had set his heart. The pain at separating from his chief, while of a different nature, was no less keen. Mr.

Gorham still stood to Allen as the epitome of the best that a man could express. The shock which had come to him when Gorham admitted a knowledge of Covington's investment of Alice's money, did not weaken his respect for the man, but rather was the final event to convince him that his own conception of business must be entirely wrong. If Mr. Gorham sanctioned it, then it was right, it could be nothing else; but all his efforts, conscientious as he knew them to have been, to master the intricacies of the code his preceptor had tried to teach him, had accomplished nothing.

And the great city, which contained so many of his cla.s.smates and friends, who had made him welcome in their homes, must in the future receive him only as a stranger. He loved the individuality of the great towering buildings, the wonderful harbor with its kaleidoscopic shipping, the surging ma.s.ses of the striving people in the streets, the blinding glare of Broadway at night, and the tense, eager business compet.i.tion keeping each man, irrespective of position, constantly on his taps to hold his own or to forge ahead against the incoming tide of growing prosperity. Everything he craved seemed centred here, yet he had been a part of it all, and had failed to keep his grip. His opportunity had been given him, and he had not taken advantage of it. The city contained no room for failures--only those who could force success from its grinding turmoil belonged within its ever-grasping arms. He must turn his back upon it all, and go to some place less critical, less overpowering, taking with him as memories, in place of triumphs, the thoughts of what might have been.

Amid the gloom which surrounded him, a childish face forced its sweet features upon him, and it relieved the tension of the moment. Dear little Patricia, at least, had faith in him. Alice's att.i.tude was that of sympathy and pity, but little Pat saw in him, the failure, those attributes which belong to the Knight Courageous, undaunted by the hostile flings of Fortune. As she grew older, she too would discover that the gold was paint and the silver, tinsel; but until then, he knew her faith was in him. He pressed his hands against his aching temples--"G.o.d bless her for that," he said, softly, "G.o.d bless her for that."

XXVIII

The first train which left Pittsburgh after the arrival of Mr. Gorham's letter bore Stephen Sanford to New York. Gorham had found time, even with the pressure of the conflicting details, to write his old friend at length regarding the situation which made it necessary for Allen to terminate his connection with the Consolidated Companies. There was no word of censure against the boy--he even took pains to express in full his admiration for certain sterling qualities which this, Allen's first business experience, had brought out.

"_The time has come_," he wrote, "_when Allen needs the sympathy and a.s.sistance of his father more than he ever has, or ever will need it again. I believe I know you well enough, Stephen, to feel certain that you won't refuse it to him simply because he has not asked for it. What I have tried to do for him has been more for your sake than for his own, though you have misunderstood my motive. The boy has developed rapidly, and possesses an ability for business naturally inherited from you; but when his mind is once made up it seems impossible to change him. I hope you will set him a good example by showing him your own strength of character in going to him now. As for our relations, Stephen, in spite of the last stormy interview, and your att.i.tude since, I know that I have no firmer friend than you, and you know well that my affection for you has not lessened because of anything so trivial as what has pa.s.sed.

Old friends are like old wine in more than one respect--the explosion made by the blowing out of the cork does not affect the quality. Come to me first, and let me tell you the whole story_."

"I'll do nothing of the sort," Sanford fumed as he finished the letter; yet the first train leaving Pittsburgh which he could catch carried him to New York.

The months which had intervened had left their impress upon him, and his friends had noticed it, though ignorant of the cause. Allen had been away from home so much during the past few years, that his failure to appear beneath the parental roof after his return from Europe was no occasion for comment. Yet it was not the fact that he was separated from the boy that wore on Stephen Sanford, but rather the knowledge that a barrier had arisen between them. He had honestly expected that Allen would refuse to take him seriously when he cast him adrift. They had quarrelled before and nothing had come of it, so he had no reason to think that this would be any exception. He knew the boy's tastes, and while blaming him for his extravagances, he was proud to have him "live like a gentleman." Even with the income a.s.sured from the position given him by Mr. Gorham, Sanford knew how small it must be compared with the allowance which Allen had previously received; and he suffered over again the privations of his own youth while thinking of the self-denials which his son must be obliged to practise. Picturing him living in a hall bedroom of meagre proportions, taking his meals at cheap restaurants and generally resorting to those economies common to ambitious youth fighting its battle against the world, the father would many times have sent him a substantial check if he could have made sure that the source would remain unknown.

Yet he insisted to himself that Allen must come to him. He would respond to Gorham's letter to the extent of going to New York and discussing the matter, but he refused to admit any possibility of a reconciliation unless the overtures came from the boy himself. As he hastened to arrange matters for his departure, he muttered imprecations against him with the same breath that drew an unquestioned joy from the thought that a sight of him was near at hand; and no idea entered his mind other than to reach New York at the earliest possible moment.

Covington was surprised that the blow did not fall upon him immediately after the meeting of the committee adjourned. He was ignorant of the exact contents of the papers handed to Gorham by Litchfield, but they could scarcely fail to give his chief all the information necessary to show his connection with the transaction, and he knew well how great would be Gorham's resentment. Yet no mention was made of the matter during the few minutes which remained of the business day after the others had taken their departure. There were two or three routine matters which Gorham turned over to him, with a few words of comment, then he said good-night and left the office. Could it be that something still intervened to keep the real facts covered up?

All doubts were removed the following morning. Gorham sent for him to come to his office, and when he appeared he found that Brady was also present. Covington seemed not to recognize him, but Brady's face a.s.sumed a significant and satisfied expression.

"Mr. Brady has been good enough to respond to my request," Gorham began, "and is here to supply me with fuller details concerning the matter which was brought up at the meeting of the committee yesterday. As it interests you even more than it does me, I have asked you to be present during our interview."

Covington seated himself in silence.

"Now, Mr. Brady," Gorham continued, "I understand that you made a statement to Mr. Litchfield to the effect that I had personally secured some of the stock in the New York Street Railways Company, with a view to profiting by the advance in price made inevitable by its proposed merger into the Manhattan Traction Company, of which I was cognizant at the time."