Part 2 (1/2)

He got up and stood over her. ”To some self-centered cub--some puny egotist in his twenties, who'll make you a slave to his needs and whims, and discard you for another woman when you've worn out your youth and beauty,” he cried. ”But you won't marry him. I won't let you!”

Miss Weir rose. ”I think I shall go home,” she said steadily.

”You shall do nothing of the sort! There is no sense in your running away from me and giving rise to gossip--which will hurt yourself only.”

”I am not running away, but I can't stay here and listen to such things from you. It's impossible, under the circ.u.mstances, for me to continue working here, so I may as well go now.”

Bush stepped past her and snapped the latch on the office door. ”I shan't permit it,” he said pa.s.sionately. ”Girl, you don't seem to realize what this means to me. I want you--and I'm going to have you!”

”Please don't be melodramatic, Mr. Bush.”

”Melodramatic! If it is melodrama for a man to show a little genuine feeling, I'm guilty. But I was never more in earnest in my life. I want a chance to win you. I value you above any woman I have ever met.

Most women that--”

”Most women would jump at the chance,” Hazel interrupted. ”Well, I'm not most women. I don't consider myself as a marketable commodity, nor my looks as an aid to driving a good bargain in a matrimonial way. I simply don't care for you as you would want me to--and I'm very sure I never would. And, seeing that you do feel that way, it's better that we shouldn't be thrown together as we are here. That's why I'm going.”

”That is to say, you'll resign because I've told you I care for you and proposed marriage?” he remarked.

”Exactly. It's the only thing to do under the circ.u.mstances.”

”Give me a chance to show you that I can make you happy,” he pleaded.

”Don't leave. Stay here where I can at least see you and speak to you.

I won't annoy you. And you can't tell. After you get over this surprise you might find yourself liking me better.”

”That's just the trouble,” Hazel pointed out. ”If I were here you would be bringing this subject up in spite of yourself. And that can only cause pain. I can't stay.”

”I think you had better reconsider that,” he said; and a peculiar--an ugly--light crept into his eyes, ”unless you desire to lay yourself open to being the most-talked-of young woman in this town, where you were born, where all your friends live. Many disagreeable things might result.”

”That sounds like a threat, Mr. Bush. What do you mean?”

”I mean just what I say. I will admit that mine is, perhaps, a selfish pa.s.sion. If you insist on making me suffer, I shall do as much for you. I believe in paying all debts in full, even with high interest.

There are two characteristics of mine which may not have come to your attention: I never stop struggling for what I want. And I never forgive or forget an injury or an insult.”

”Well?” Hazel was beginning to see a side of Mr. Andrew Bush hitherto unsuspected.

”Well?” he repeated. ”If you drive me to it, you will find yourself drawing the finger of gossip. Also, you will find yourself unable to secure a position in Granville. Also, you may find yourself losing the--er--regard of this--ah--fortunate individual upon whom you have bestowed your affections; but you'll never lose mine,” he burst out wildly. ”When you get done b.u.t.ting your head against the wall that will mysteriously rise in your way, I'll be waiting for you. That's how I love. I've never failed in anything I ever undertook, and I don't care how I fight, fair or foul, so that I win.”

”This isn't the fifteenth century,” Hazel let her indignation flare, ”and I'm not at all afraid of any of the things you mention. Even if you could possibly bring these things about, it would only make me despise you, which I'm in a fair way to do now. Even if I weren't engaged, I'd never think of marrying a man old enough to be my father--a man whose years haven't given him a sense of either dignity or decency. Wealth and social position don't modify gray hairs and advancing age. Your threats are an insult. This isn't the stone age.

Even if it were,” she concluded cuttingly, ”you'd stand a poor chance of winning a woman against a man like--well--” She shrugged her shoulders, but she was thinking of Jack Barrow's broad shoulders, and the easy way he went up a flight of stairs, three steps at a time.

”Well, any _young_ man.”

With that thrust, Miss Hazel Weir turned to the rack where hung her hat and coat. She was thoroughly angry, and her employment in that office ended then and there so far as she was concerned.

Bush caught her by the shoulders before she took a second step.

”Gray hairs and advancing age!” he said. ”So I strike you as approaching senility, do I? I'll show you whether I'm the worn-out specimen you seem to think I am. Do you think I'll give you up just because I've made you angry? Why, I love you the more for it; it only makes me the more determined to win you.”

”You can't. I dislike you more every second. Take your hands off me, please. Be a gentleman--if you can.”