The Opened Shutters. Clara Louise Burnham
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Название: The Opened Shutters
Автор: Clara Louise Burnham
Издательство: Bookwire
Жанр: Языкознание
isbn: 4064066176624
isbn:
This time the speaker did not vanish into the handkerchief, but caught her lip between her little teeth, and looking away, struggled for composure in a way that drew on John's heartstrings.
This slender creature, not yet strong from the illness that had crowned her head with those silky tendrils, and with no supporting arm save that of a barn-storming actor, mediocre in his middle age, what was Judge Trent's representative to do or say to prevent her from taking some foolish and desperate course!
"Now you simply must have money to tide you over," he announced. "Let's not have any nonsense. You can't knock about this hotel. Judge Trent knew what he was doing when he said the Young Women's Christian Association. He wanted you guarded, and he wasn't—he didn't—he couldn't very well guard you himself." Dunham stammered, but collected himself with praiseworthy dignity. He had recalled his six feet of height, and rising, began to make the most of the last inch, and to try the effect of a frown down on the flower face whose eyes, looking a little startled, encouraged him. He frowned more heavily as he took a bill book from his pocket and counted out five five-dollar bills.
"Now take that money and put it away in some safe place," he said briefly. "I'll take you over to the Association myself. No, indeed, I'm not Aunt Martha, and you're going with me."
The girl let the bills drop into her lap while she drew her hands away from them.
"I'd rather go and jump into the water!" she began passionately.
"Don't—be—silly!" returned Dunham, in a biting, big-brother tone which seemed to have an effect.
"Is this Uncle Calvin's money?"
"Of course it is. What would your mother say if she were here? Of course I understand you're not going to be dependent upon Judge Trent. You've made up your mind to that, and I'm not going to try to shake you; but I suppose you're not so childish as to refuse a small gift from your mother's brother, just because you're disappointed in him, or angry with him—or whatever you choose to call it. I'm rather pressed for time," continued John, after a short pause, assuming the tone he reserved for a book agent on his busy day, and taking out his watch he gave it a sweeping glance. "It would oblige me very much if you could hurry a little. You can't stay here, you know, and I'll have a carriage ready."
Sylvia rose undecidedly. "You take a great deal for granted," she said. "I—there's only one condition on which I'll go, and that is that you don't tell either my uncle or my aunt where I am. I will not see them. I'll have no more of their sense of duty! I won't have Aunt Martha come back there."
"Oh, very well," Dunham gave a hasty and rather bored nod.
"But do you promise?" The blue eyes began to dry and to sparkle again.
"Well, yes, of course. I promise."
She left the room; and the various shades of dignity, sarcasm, and boredom gradually vanished from the young man's countenance. He smiled and shrugged his big shoulders with the gesture of a ten-year-old schoolboy, and moving over to a hoary mirror with a freckled gilt frame, he executed a brief and silent clog before it.
"I'm not so bad," he commented to his reflection. "Nat isn't the only star in the profession."
CHAPTER V
JUDGE TRENT'S STUDY
Dunham took care not to see Miss Lacey again until their train was nearing its destination. Then as he approached the seat where she gazed out the car window he observed that her eyes bore traces of tears.
She gave a nervous start as she recognized him.
"Oh, there you are. I've been afraid you missed the train. I'm very glad you've come, for I'm going straight to Judge Trent's office with you, Mr. Dunham."
"Oh, are you?" responded the young man dubiously. He seemed to see his employer's warning glance. "I rather think Judge Trent will have gone home. It's pretty late."
"Very well," returned Miss Lacey decisively, "then we go on to his house. This is no time to stand on ceremony. Every moment counts."
Whatever was in her mind her companion saw that she had worked herself to a pitch of excitement which made a railroad train no fitting environment for its expression; and to avoid further conversation he moved to the door and stood looking through the glass, meditating upon the approaching interview.
The station reached, Miss Lacey waited while Dunham telephoned to the office. There was no reply.
"The judge has evidently gone home," he said, returning to anxious Miss Martha.
"Then, as I told you," she answered, with firmness, "I am going to his house."
She had turned this possibility over in her mind several times. The long spring day was bright. Neighbors would observe her and comment upon her action, and she was not indifferent to this.
It did not occur to Dunham that she might consider the present situation an ordeal, but he was certain of Judge Trent's frame of mind, and he felt it incumbent upon him to do what he could.
"Shan't I put you on the car for home, Miss Lacey?" he asked persuasively, "and bring Judge Trent to see you?"
"It would be very nice if you could," she returned briefly, "but you couldn't."
"Oh, I assure you,"—began John smoothly.
Miss Lacey emitted a sort of impatient groan. "Don't talk," she exclaimed brusquely. "You don't know anything about it. He'll go on shirking just the way he's begun if I give him the chance. Isn't that the car coming? Oh, no, it isn't!"
"Probably you'd rather see him alone," suggested John, seizing upon a sudden hope. "Being so essentially a family matter and—eh—don't you think?"
"No, I don't think!" returned Miss Lacey. "If I'd had my way it would have been a family matter. Calvin and I ought to have attended to it entirely alone; but he would drag you into it—yes, I know it's very uncomfortable for you, but you are in, and I need you for a witness and to back me up, and you must come, Mr. Dunham; there's the car now."
John yielded to the inevitable. He remembered grimly one item of his memoranda. "Follow Miss Lacey's lead."
Whatever of humor was in the situation was in abeyance. He had an irritating consciousness that what should have been the problem of these people had been shifted upon himself in a manner most unfair of Fortune. The desolate face that he had left haunted his thoughts; and the girl's pride and obstinacy in binding him to secrecy made the coming interview awkward.
Judge Trent, all unsuspicious, was sitting in his study. He had slipped on the dressing-gown with the indistinguishable pattern, and the rusty slippers that his soul loved. His silk hat formed a shadow for his eyes, and his big table was covered with a riot of books and papers.
At the moment chosen by his visitors for their entrance, the down-trodden heels were also resting on the table as the judge leaned back luxuriously in his desk chair and read the Boston papers.
Miss Lacey declined to allow Hannah to announce their visit.
"He might get out some back way," she declared СКАЧАТЬ