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Page 8
"And were you?"
"I swear to God, Jack, I'd have been content, and more, to have
been just there with him, seein' nobody, letting every one believe
I was dead and gone, but he said it was wrong, and weak! Maybe it
was," she added, with a shy, interrogating look at Jack, of which,
however, he took no notice. "Then when he found they wouldn't
call, what do you think he did?"
"Beat you, perhaps," suggested Jack cheerfully.
"He never did a thing to me that wasn't straight out, square, and
kind," she said, half indignantly, half hopelessly. "He thought if
HIS kind of people wouldn't see me, I might like to see my own
sort. So without saying anything to me, he brought down, of all
things! Tinkie Clifford, she that used to dance in the cheap
variety shows at 'Frisco, and her particular friend, Captain Sykes.
It would have just killed you, Jack," she said, with a sudden
hysteric burst of laughter, "to have seen Josh, in his square,
straight-out way, trying to be civil and help things along. But,"
she went on, as suddenly relapsing into her former attitude of
worried appeal, "I couldn't stand it, and when she got to talking
free and easy before Josh, and Captain Sykes to guzzling champagne,
she and me had a row. She allowed I was putting on airs, and I
made her walk, in spite of Josh."
"And Josh seemed to like it," said Hamlin carelessly. "Has he seen
her since?"
"No; I reckon he's cured of asking that kind of company for me.
And then we came here. But I persuaded him not to begin by going
round telling people who I was,--as he did the last time,--but to
leave it to folks to find out if they wanted to, and he gave in.
Then he let me fix up this house and furnish it my own way, and I
did!"
"Do you mean to say that YOU fixed up that family vault of a
sitting-room?" said Jack, in horror.
"Yes, I didn't want any fancy furniture or looking-glasses, and
such like, to attract folks, nor anything to look like the old
times. I don't think any of the boys would care to come here. And
I got rid of a lot of sporting travelers, 'wild-cat' managers, and
that kind of tramp in this way. But"-- She hesitated, and her
face fell again.
"But what?" said Jack.
"I don't think that Josh likes it either. He brought home the
other day 'My Johnny is a Shoemakiyure,' and wanted me to try it on
the organ. But it reminded me how we used to get just sick of
singing it on and off the boards, and I couldn't touch it. He
wanted me to go to the circus that was touring over at the cross
roads, but it was the old Flanigin's circus, you know, the one
Gussie Riggs used to ride in, with its old clown and its old
ringmaster and the old 'wheezes,' and I chucked it."
"Look here," said Jack, rising and surveying Mrs. Rylands
critically. "If you go on at this gait, I'll tell you what that
man of yours will do. He'll bolt with some of your old friends!"
She turned a quick, scared face upon him for an instant. But only
for an instant. Her hysteric little laugh returned, at once,
followed by her weary, worried look. "No, Jack, you don't know
him! If it was only that! He cares only for me in his own way,--
and," she stammered as she went on, "I've no luck in making him
happy."
She stopped. The wind shook the house and fired a volley of rain
against the windows. She took advantage of it to draw a torn lace-
edged handkerchief from her pocket behind, and keeping the tail of
her eyes in a frightened fashion on Jack, applied the handkerchief
furtively, first to her nose, and then to her eyes.
"Don't do that," said Jack fastidiously, "it's wet enough outside."
Nevertheless, he stood up and gazed at her.
"Well," he began.
She timidly drew nearer to him, and took a seat on the kitchen
table, looking up wistfully into his eyes.
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