Part 16 (1/2)
She came forward and stood looking at him.
”I've been thinking,” she said, ”that I can do you no kinder service than to destroy those papers and let you go home.”
For a moment he thought she was joking, then something in her expression changed his opinion and he took a step forward, eyes fixed on her face.
”Yes,” he said, ”it would be the kindest thing you can do for me. Shall I tell you why? It's because I'm hopelessly near-sighted. I wear gla.s.ses when I'm alone in my study, where n.o.body can see me.”
”What in the world has that to do with my leaving you?” she asked, colouring up.
”Suffragettes would never marry a near-sighted man, would they?”
”They ought not to.”
”You wouldn't, would you?”
”Why do you ask--such a thing?”
”I want to know.”
”But how does your myopia concern me?” she said faintly.
”Couldn't it--ever?” he asked, reddening.
”No,” she said, turning pale.
”Then we'd better not stay here; and I'm going to be as generous as you are,” he said, advancing toward her. ”I'm going to let you go home.”
She backed away, thrusting the papers behind her; his arm slipped around her, after them, strove to grasp them, to hold and restrain her, but there was a strength in her tall, firm young body which matched his own; she resisted, turned, twisted, confronted him with high colour, and lips compressed, and they came to a deadlock, breathing fast and irregularly.
Again, coolly, dexterously, he pitted his adroitness, then his sheer strength against hers; and it came again to a deadlock.
Suddenly she crook'd one smooth knee inside of his; her arms slid around him like lightning; he felt himself rising into the air, descending--there came a crash, a magnificent display of ocular fireworks, and nothing further concerned him until he discovered himself lying flat on the floor and heard somebody sobbing incoherencies beside him.
He was mean enough to keep his eyes shut while she, on her knees beside him, slopped water on his forehead and begged him to speak to her, and told him her heart was broken and she desired to die and repose in mortuary simplicity beside him forever.
Certain terms she employed in addressing what she feared were only his mortal remains caused him to p.r.i.c.k up his ears. He certainly was one of the meanest of men.
”Dear,” she sobbed, ”I--I have l-loved you ever since your lithographs were displayed during the election! Only speak to me! Only open those beloved eyes! I don't care whether they are near-sighted! Oh, please, please wake up!” she cried brokenly. ”I'll give you back your papers. What do I care about that old bill? I'm p-perfectly willing to do all those things! Oh, oh, oh! How conscience does make Haus-fraus of us all!”
His meanness now became contemptible; he felt her trembling hands on his brow; the fragrant, tearful face nearer, nearer, until her hot, flushed cheeks and quivering lips touched his. And yet, incredible as it seems, and to the everlasting shame of all his s.e.x, he kept eyes and mouth shut until a lively knocking on the door brought him bolt upright.
She uttered a little cry and shrank away from him on her knees, the tears glimmering in her startled and wide open eyes.
”Good heavens, darling!” he said seriously; ”how on earth are we going to explain this?”
They scrambled hastily to their feet and gazed at each other while kicks and blows began to rain on the door.
”I believe it's Dill,” he whispered; ”and I seem to hear the Mayor's voice, too.”
”Help! Help! For heaven's sake!” screamed the Mayor, ”let us in, George! There's a mob of suffragettes coming up the stairs!”
The Governor unlocked the door and jerked it open, just as several unusually beautiful girls seized Mr. Dill and the Military Secretary.
The Mayor, however, rushed blindly into the room, his turban-swirl was over one eye, his skirt was missing, his ap.r.o.n hung by one pin.
He ran headlong for a sofa and tried to scramble under it, but lovely and vigorous arms seized his s.h.i.+ns and drew him triumphantly forth.
”Hurrah!” they cried delightedly, ”we have carried the entire ticket!”
”Hurrah!” echoed a sweet but tremulous voice, and a firm young arm was slipped through the Governor's.
He turned to meet her beautiful, level gaze.
”Check!” she said.
”Make it check-mate,” he said steadily.
”Mate you?”
”Will you?”
She bent her superb head a moment, then lifted her splendid eyes to his.
”Of course I will,” she said, as steadily as her quickening heart permitted. ”Why do you suppose I ran after you?”
”Why?” whispered that infatuated man.
”Because,” she said, navely, ”I was afraid some other girl would get you... . A girl never can be sure what another girl might do to a man... . And I wanted you for myself.”
”Thank G.o.d,” he said, ”that six-foot Professor Challis will never get me, anyway.”
She bent her adorable face close to his.
”Your excellency,” she murmured, ”I am Professor Challis!”
At that instant a pretty and excited suffragette dashed up the stairs and saluted.
”Professor,” she cried, ”all over the city desirable young men are being pursued and married by the thousands! We have swept the State, with Brooklyn and West Point yet to hear from!” Her glance fell upon the Governor; she laughed glee-fully.
”Shall I call a taxi, Professor?” she asked.
An exquisite and modest pride transformed the features of Professor Betty Challis to a beauty almost celestial.
”Let George do it,” she said tenderly.