Part 13 (1/2)
On which the girl asks him if his mine is so rich, why does he not work it himself.
”Because I am tired of barbarism!” he cries. ”I want a home and a wife, and I wouldn't ask any woman to share a mining cabin with me.”
”What matters,” says Erma airily, ”if she loved you?”
”Do you mean that?” remarks Harry, a peculiar ring coming into his voice.
”Yes,” says the girl, rising; ”if I loved a man I believe I could give up for him--even New York. But it is growing late. You tell me we have an early breakfast to-morrow morning, Captain Lawrence?”
”Yes, six o'clock,” he says shortly, and escorts his charge to the door of the hotel, where her maid is waiting for her. Here she nonchalantly says, ”Good-night. Thank you so much!” Then, a sudden impulse impelling her, she steps to the man who is just turning from her and whispers, her eyes glowing gratefully, ”G.o.d bless you for saving Ferdie's life! G.o.d bless you for being kind to me!”
Next, seemingly frightened at herself, she runs lightly up the stairs to her bedroom, where she goes to sleep; but once she is awakened by the clanging of freight trains in the night, and this thought comes into her head: ”What manner of man is this who two days ago was a stranger to me, but who has built railroads and slain desperadoes and Indians and whom I think about waking and sleeping?” Then she utters a little affrighted cry, ”WHY, HE HAS EVEN MADE ME FORGET MY FATHER!”
The gentleman she has slighted has been under discussion on the railroad platform below.
Mr. Chauncey and Lawrence, strolling out before going to bed to take a preliminary smoke, the Captain suddenly asks, between puffs of his cigar: ”Miss Travenion's father was quite a swell in New York?”
”Was?--IS!” cries Ferdie. ”I only know him by sight, but I inspected him once or twice last year when he was in town, sitting in the Unity windows, chewing a cane, and following with his eyes any likely ankle up the Avenue. In fact, he's about as heavy a swell now as you'd want to see, though they say when he lived in New York permanently he used to be heavier.”
”Ah,” replies Harry, taking a long puff at his Havana, ”a thorough club man?”
”I should think so!” returns Mr. Chauncey. ”He is an out and outer.
There are some curious stories extant that would make your hair stand on end about Ralph Travenion in the old days. They say----”
But Ferdie stops here in sudden surprise, for Lawrence's hand is on his arm, and he is whispering: ”Don't tell me anything that would make me think less of her father!”
”Oh, of course not, if you don't wish it,” replies the boy. Then he laughingly says: ”You're not going to judge of Miss Beauty up there by her paternal, are you, old man? That would be _rather_ a heavy handicap.” A moment later he goes on, the other not replying: ”But she'd stand it. She's a good girl; even a big fortune and the adoration of Newport's smart set couldn't give her airs. She's liable to marry some fellow just for love.”
”You think so?” asks Lawrence with a hearty voice.
”Certainly. Did you notice her thanking you for saving my life?” returns the boy. ”Could she have shown more grat.i.tude if you'd been an English duke? And I thank you for it also. We Harvard men are not apt to gush, my boy; but we feel just the same. If I was in love with Erma Travenion, I'd sooner have what you did to-day to my credit than a million in bonds.”
”Would you!” cries the captain. ”Would you!” and his clasp is so cordial as he shakes Ferdie's hand on bidding him good-night that the boy goes away and mutters, ”He's got a grip like a prize-fighter--but hang it, I sent him to bed happy for saving my life--and he did save it. Good Lord, if it hadn't been for him, where would yours truly have been now? Oh ginger!” And this idea making him serious, he goes to bed and sleeps, a thing that Harry finds more difficult.
The next morning there is a very happy smile on Miss Travenion's face as she trips down to her breakfast, where she is met by Captain Lawrence and Ferdie, and the three shortly after go to the Utah Central and take train there for Salt Lake, and after running through prosperous Mormon villages and outlying farms for about an hour and a half, Erma suddenly cries, ”What is that great turtle rising out of the trees?”
To this Lawrence answers, ”The Mormon Tabernacle!” and a few minutes after they run into the ”City of the Saints,” where certain things shall come to Erma Travenion such as this young lady of New York society wots not are in the heavens above the earth, nor in the waters that are beneath it.
BOOK II.
A CURIOUS CLUB MAN.
CHAPTER VIII.
THE CITY OF SAINTS.
Here they are met by Mr. Oliver Livingston, who has a carriage in waiting. To his anxious questioning as to how they had missed the train, and had fared during the night in Ogden, Miss Travenion says shortly, ”First my father; is he not here with you?” and looks about the depot with scrutinizing eyes. A moment after she continues hurriedly, ”Your mother received my telegram?”