Part 16 (1/2)
”All right, go alone. I'm going to the real Tiffany's.”
”What for?”
”To squander my fortune, Pauline Pry. I'll meet you at Sherry's at one-thirty. I suppose some kindly policeman will guide my faltering footsteps in the right direction. Good-bye.” And he closed the door of the car in her radiant face.
They had a merry lunch an hour later, Austin ordering the meal and paying for it with such evident pleasure that Sylvia could not help being touched at his joy over his little legacy. Then he proposed that, although they were a little late, they might go to a matinee, and afterwards insisted on walking up Fifth Avenue and stopping for tea at the Plaza.
”I've seen more beautiful cities than New York,” he said, as they sauntered along, much more slowly than most of the hurrying throng,--”Paris, for instance--fairly alive with loveliness! But I don't believe there's a place in the world that gives you the feeling of _power_ that this does--especially just at this time of day, when the lights are coming on, and all these mult.i.tudes of people going home after their day's work or pleasure. It's tremendous--lifts you right off your feet--do you know what I mean?”
They reached home a little after six, to find Uncle Mat, whose existence they had completely forgotten, waiting for them with his eyes glued to the clock.
”I was about to have the Hudson River dragged for you two,” he said, as Austin wrung his hand and Sylvia kissed him penitently. ”Where _have_ you been? I came home to lunch, and made several appointments to introduce Austin to some very influential men, who I think would make valuable acquaintances for him. It's inexcusable, Sylvia, for you to monopolize him this way.”
The happy culprits exchanged glances, and then Sylvia linked her arm in Austin's and got down on her knees, dragging him after her.
”I suppose we may as well confess,” she said, ”because you'd guess it inside of five minutes, anyway. Please don't be very angry with us.”
”What _are_ you talking about? Austin, can you explain? Has Sylvia taken leave of her senses?”
”I'm afraid so, sir,” said Austin, with mock gravity; ”it certainly looks that way. For about six weeks ago she told me that--some time in the dim future, of course--she might possibly be prevailed upon to marry me!”
Uncle Mat declared afterwards that this last shock was too much for him, and that he swooned away. But all that Austin and Sylvia could remember was that after a moment of electrified silence, he embraced them both, exclaiming, ”Bless my stars! I never for one moment suspected that she had that much sense!”
CHAPTER XIV
”Are you two young idiots going out again this evening?” asked Uncle Mat as the three were eating their dessert, glancing from Sylvia's low-necked white gown to Austin's immaculate dress-suit.
”No. This is entirely in each other's honor. But I hope you are, for I want to talk to Austin.”
”Good gracious! What have you been doing all day? What do you expect _me_ to do?”
”You can go to your club and have five nice long rubbers of bridge,” said Sylvia mercilessly, ”and when you come back, please cough in the hall.”
”I want to write a few lines to my mother, after I've had a little talk with Mr. Stevens--then I'm entirely at your disposal,” said Austin, as she lighted their cigars and rose to leave them.
”I'm glad some one wants to talk to me,” murmured Uncle Mat meekly.
Sylvia hugged him and kissed the top of his head. ”You dear jealous old thing! I've got some telephoning and notes to attend to myself. Come and knock on my door when you're ready, Austin.”
”You have a good deal of courage,” remarked Uncle Mat, nodding in Sylvia's direction as she went down the hall.
”Perhaps you think effrontery would be the better word.”
”Not at all, my dear boy--you misunderstand me completely. Sylvia's the dearest thing in the world to me, and I've been worrying a good deal about her remarriage, which I knew was bound to come sooner or later. I'm more than satisfied and pleased at her choice--I'm relieved.”
”Thank you. It's good to know you feel that way, even if I don't deserve it.”
”You do deserve it. In speaking of courage, I meant that the poor husband of a rich wife always has a good deal to contend with; and aside from the money question, you're supersensitive about what you consider your lack of advantages and polish--though Heaven knows you don't need to be!” he added, glancing with satisfaction at the handsome, well-groomed figure stretched out before him. ”I never saw any one pick up the veneer of good society, so called, as rapidly as you have. It shows that real good breeding was back of it all the time.”