Part 50 (1/2)

Her head went up. ”I am a good nurse. But I am more than a nurse, I am a woman. Oh, I know you are blaming me for what you think I have done. But if you stood under a tree and a great ripe peach hung just out of your reach, could you be blamed for shaking the tree? Well, I shook the tree.”

She was very handsome as she gave her defense with flas.h.i.+ng eyes.

”The General asked me to marry him, and that's more than you would ever have done. You liked to think that I was half in love with you. You liked to pretend that you were half in love with me. But would you ever have offered me ease and rest from hard work? Would you ever have thought that I might some day be your daughter's equal in your home?

Oh, I have wanted good times. I used to sit night after night alone in the office while you and Jean went out and did the things I was dying to do. I wanted to go to dances and to the theater and to supper with a gay crowd. But you never seemed to think of it. I am young and I want pretty clothes--yet you thought I was satisfied to have you come home and say a few careless pleasant words, and to tease me a little.

That was all you ever did for me--all you ever wanted.

”But the General wants more than that. He wants me here in the big house, to be his wife, and to meet his friends. He had a man come up the other day with a lot of rings, and he bought me this.” She showed the great diamonds flas.h.i.+ng on her third finger. ”I have always wanted a ring like this, and now I can have as many as I want. Do you blame me for shaking the tree?”

He sat, listening, spellbound to her sophistry. But was it sophistry?

Wasn't some of it true? He saw her for the first time as a woman wanting things like other women.

She swept out her hand to include the contents of the little room. ”I have always longed for a place like this. I don't know a thing about china. But I know that all that stuff in the cabinet cost a fortune.

And it's a pretty room, and some day when I am the General's wife, I'll ask you here to take tea with me, and I'll wear a silver gown like your daughter wears, and I think you'll be surprised to see that I can do it well.”

He flung up his hand. ”I can't argue it, Hilda. I can't a.n.a.lyze it.

But it is all wrong. In all the years that you worked for me, while I laughed at you, I respected you. But I don't respect you now.”

She shrugged. ”Do you think I care? And a man's respect after all is rather a cold thing, isn't it? But I am sorry you feel as you do about it. I should have been glad to have you wish me happiness.”

”Happiness--” His anger seemed to die suddenly. ”You won't find happiness, Hilda, if you separate a son from his father.”

”Did he tell you that? I had nothing to do with it. His father was angry at his--interference.”

He stood up. ”We won't discuss it. But you may tell him this. That I am glad his son is poor, for my daughter will marry now the man and not his money.”

”Then he will marry her?”

”Yes. On Christmas Day.”

She wished that she might tell him the date of her own wedding, but she did not know it. The General seemed in no hurry. He had carefully observed the conventions; had hired a housekeeper and a maid, and there was, of course, the day nurse. Having thus surrounded his betrothed with a sort of feminine bodyguard, he spoke of the wedding as happening in the spring. And he was hard to move. As has been said, the General had once commanded a brigade. He was immensely entertained and fascinated by the lady who was to be his wife. But he was not to be managed by her. She found herself, as he grew stronger, quite strangely deferring to his wishes. She found herself, indeed, rather unexpectedly dominated.

She came back to the Doctor. ”Aren't you going to wish me happiness?”

”No. How can I, Hilda?”

After he had left her, she stood very still in the middle of the room.

She could still see him as he had towered above her--his crinkled hair waving back from his handsome head. She had always liked the youth of him and his laughter and his boyish fun.

The rich man upstairs was--old--.

CHAPTER XX

THE VISION OF BRAVE WOMEN

And now the Tin Soldier was to go to the wars!