The Penalty Part 28

Is that right?"

"That's not all there is to it, Wilmot, by any means. But for heaven's sake believe that I'm being altogether unselfish: but you know me too well to believe anything so ridiculous."

"I know you well enough," said Wilmot, "to worship the ground you walk on. Not because my heart urges me, but my understanding. And I know you would play the game, once you had given your word, and make me a splendid wife. But what I have for you cannot be given to mere friendship and submission, I should feel that I had sinned against my love for you too greatly to be forgiven. You are closer to me than you have ever been, my dear--and yet so far away that I can only look upward as to a star, and despair of the distance. If there has been anything fine in my life, it has been my love for you. And behold, you, with every opposite intention, are tempting me to let that go rotten, too.

But, O my Barbs, if you could only love me!"

Barbara drew a long breath. "I thought I was doing right."

"You _have_ done right. It is for me to do right."

"Well," she said, "I'm bitterly disappointed, and that's all there is to it. Ought I to thank you for letting me off?"

"Yes, dear."

"Then I thank you."

Neither spoke for a long time. At last Barbara said:

"When do you go West?"

"In a very few days."

"Then you will be able to go to Mr. Blizzard's party and hear him play."

"Are you still determined on that?"

"Why, yes. It will be fun. And besides, I haven't any husband to forbid me."

Wilmot's temper rose a little. "I'll go," he said shortly. "When will the bust be finished? And the whole Blizzard episode?"

"I'm sure I don't know," said Barbara patiently. "But I think the Blizzard episode--as you call it--is rather a permanent friendship. I find reasons to like him, and to admire him."

Wilmot made no comment. He longed to speak evil of Blizzard, but the fact of his financial obligation to the man kept him silent. He contented himself with saying: "I'm glad that I haven't your artistic judgment of character. One of these days you will learn, to your cost, that men's judgment of a man is usually correct."

"I wish he had legs," said Barbara. "I'd like to do Prometheus bound to the rock."

Wilmot's disgust was intense. "Do you mean to say--" he began, and then checked himself. "Why not have your father graft a pair on him? He's succeeded, by all accounts, in doing so for all sorts of beasts."

"Do you know," said Barbara sweetly, "that is just what my father would try to do for Mr. Blizzard if some interested person would only step forward and supply the legs."

"I dare say Blizzard would find a pair quickly enough, if he thought they could be attached."

"But how could he?"

"Oh, I'm just joking, Miss Innocence. But, seriously, he could buy a pair for a price. You can buy anything in this world--except love,"

Blizzard, sitting in the sun on the steps of 17 McBurney Place, watched the pair approaching in the runabout, noted as they drew near the affectionate seriousness of their att.i.tude toward each other--for they had stopped talking of him and returned to themselves--and his whole being burned suddenly with a rage of jealousy. Controlling the expression of his face, he rose upon his crutches and descended the steps to greet Barbara at the curb.

"Glad to see you!" said she. "And how about Wednesday night for the party? Mr. Allen is coming, and I have asked three or four other people."

The legless man bowed and said: "Thank you. Wednesday at half-past nine."

He nodded affably to Allen, who returned the salute with all his charming ease and courtesy. You might have mistaken them for two men who really valued each other.

"Miss Ferris," said Blizzard, "I shall be ready for work as soon as you.

I wish to ask Mr. Allen a question."

Wilmot winced, since he noted a tone of command in Blizzard's voice, and it jarred on him, and he said good-by to Barbara and watched her disappear into the studio-building with a feeling of strong resentment against the man who had to all intents and purposes dismissed her from the scene.

"Well?" he said curtly.

But Blizzard, enjoying the childish satisfaction of having separated the pair, was no longer in the mood to take offence. "I wish to make a proposition to you," he said, "but at some length. Will you come to my place at three o'clock this afternoon? It is easier for you to get about than for me."

"I am very busy," said Wilmot; "I am getting ready to go West."

"So I have gathered. Have you anything definite in view?"

"Not very," said Wilmot. "Nor any money to put it through with. About the loan you were so kind as to make me, I can only say that I am going to turn over a new leaf, and to work very hard at something or other. If I have any luck you shall be paid."

The legless man dismissed the matter of the loan with a backward toss of his head. "If you've nothing definite in view," said he, "please come at three o'clock, I have interests in the West--legitimate interests, and influence. Perhaps I can put you in a way to clear up your debts."

"Well, by George," said Wilmot, his good nature returning, "if that's the idea, I'll turn up at three sharp. Sure thing."

XXII

Blizzard had upon his desk a specimen of the straw hats which the young ladies of his establishment were kept so busy plaiting. At exactly three o'clock he thrust it to one side, and at exactly the same moment the bell of his street door clanged, and Wilmot Allen came in out of the sunlight.

"On time," said Blizzard, "thank you. Are you a judge of hats? Try that one."

Obediently Wilmot removed his own heavy yellowish straw, and subst.i.tuted the soft and pliant article indicated. It fitted him to perfection, and the legless man smiled.

"It's yours," he said; "fold it up, and put it in your pocket."

"It'll break it."

"Here. Let me show you." And Blizzard folded the hat as if it had been a linen handkerchief. "Very handy thing," he said, "and only to be obtained as a gift. Sit down," Wilmot thrust the hat into his inside pocket and sat down on the beggar's left, facing the light. The faint hum of girls talking at their work came from the back of the establishment. A whirling fan buzzed and b.u.mped. The weather had turned very hot.

"Young man," the beggar began abruptly, "if I had your legs I'd engage in something more active and adventurous than the manufacture of straw hats. Have you ever had the wish to be a soldier of fortune? To go about the world redressing wrong, fighting upon the side of the oppressed?"

"Of course," said Wilmot simply.

"You are heavily in debt?"

"Very."