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Page 72
Noblesse oblige and only five silver dollars are not strictly romantic
compatibles, but sometimes they can be made to jibe. It was mine to
be Sir Oracle, and then pay the freight. So I assumed an air that
mingled Solomon's with that of the general passenger agent of the Long
Island Railroad.
"Miss Lowery," said I, as impressively as I could, "life is rather a
queer proposition, after all." There was a familiar sound to these
words after I had spoken them, and I hoped Miss Lowery had never heard
Mr. Cohan's song. "Those whom we first love we seldom wed. Our
earlier romances, tinged with the magic radiance of youth, often fail
to materialize." The last three words sounded somewhat trite when
they struck the air. "But those fondly cherished dreams," I went on,
"may cast a pleasant afterglow on our future lives, however
impracticable and vague they may have been. But life is full of
realities as well as visions and dreams. One cannot live on memories.
May I ask, Miss Lowery, if you think you could pass a happy--that is,
a contented and harmonious life with Mr.-er--Dodd--if in other ways
than romantic recollections he seems to--er--fill the bill, as I might
say?"
"Oh, Hi's all right," answered Miss Lowery. "Yes, I could get along
with him fine. He's promised me an automobile and a motor-boat. But
somehow, when it got so close to the time I was to marry him, I
couldn't help wishing--well, just thinking about George. Something
must have happened to him or he'd have written. On the day he left,
he and me got a hammer and a chisel and cut a dime into two pieces. I
took one piece and he took the other, and we promised to be true to
each other and always keep the pieces till we saw each other again.
I've got mine at home now in a ring-box in the top drawer of my
dresser. I guess I was silly to come up here looking for him. I
never realized what a big place it is."
And then Tripp joined in with a little grating laugh that he had,
still trying to drag in a little story or drama to earn the miserable
dollar that he craved.
"Oh, the boys from the country forget a lot when they come to the city
and learn something. I guess George, maybe, is on the bum, or got
roped in by some other girl, or maybe gone to the dogs on account of
whiskey or the races. You listen to Mr. Chalmers and go back home,
and you'll be all right."
But now the time was come for action, for the hands of the clock were
moving close to noon. Frowning upon Tripp, I argued gently and
philosophically with Miss Lowery, delicately convincing her of the
importance of returning home at once. And I impressed upon her the
truth that it would not be absolutely necessary to her future
happiness that she mention to Hi the wonders or the fact of her visit
to the city that had swallowed up the unlucky George.
She said she had left her horse (unfortunate Rosinante) tied to a tree
near the railroad station. Tripp and I gave her instructions to mount
the patient steed as soon as she arrived and ride home as fast as
possible. There she was to recount the exciting adventure of a day
spent with Susie Adams. She could "fix" Susie--I was sure of that--
and all would be well.
And then, being susceptible to the barbed arrows of beauty, I warmed
to the adventure. The three of us hurried to the ferry, and there I
found the price of a ticket to Greenburg to be but a dollar and eighty
cents. I bought one, and a red, red rose with the twenty cents for
Miss Lowery. We saw her aboard her ferryboat, and stood watching her
wave her handkerchief at us until it was the tiniest white patch
imaginable. And then Tripp and I faced each other, brought back to
earth, left dry and desolate in the shade of the sombre verities of
life.
The spell wrought by beauty and romance was dwindling. I looked at
Tripp and almost sneered. He looked more careworn, contemptible, and
disreputable than ever. I fingered the two silver dollars remaining
in my pocket and looked at him with the half-closed eyelids of
contempt. He mustered up an imitation of resistance.
"Can't you get a story out of it?" he asked, huskily. "Some sort of a
story, even if you have to fake part of it?"
"Not a line," said I. "I can fancy the look on Grimes' face if I
should try to put over any slush like this. But we've helped the
little lady out, and that'll have to be our only reward."
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