Part 46 (1/2)

PLIGHTED TROTH.

”Helen, you seem tired,” John said as I met him at the door--at first I peeped out from behind it, I remember, as if I feared the bogey-man--”Have you been too hard at work?”

”I've been out all the afternoon,” I said, ”and I suppose I am rather tired, but it was pleasant and warm; and I wore a veil.”

There was a little awkward pause after I had ushered him to the reception room, and then, guiding the talk through channels he thought safe, he spoke about his law work, the amusing things that happen at the office, his gratifying progress in his profession.

”Oh,” I said, ”talking of the law reminds me--some stupid paper was left here to-day.”

I found with some difficulty and handed to him the stiff folded legal cap the man had brought.

He glanced through it with apprehensive surprise, skipping the long sentences to the end.

”Why, this is returnable to-morrow,” he said; ”Nelly, I had no idea you were in such urgent money troubles; why didn't you send for me at once; this morning?”

”Oh, if that's all--I've had so many duns that I'm tired of them: tired to death of them.”

”But this isn't a dun,” he began in the unnaturally quiet tone of a man who is trying to keep his temper and isn't going to succeed. ”It is a court order; and people don't ignore court orders unless they want to get into trouble. This paper calls you to court to-morrow morning in supplementary proceedings.”

”I don't know what they are.”

”You don't want to know what they are. You mustn't know. It's an ordeal so terrible that most creditors employ it only as a last resort, especially against a woman. This plaintiff, being herself a woman, is less merciful.”

”Why is it so terrible? I have no money; they can't make me pay what I haven't got, can they? Is it the Inquisition?”

”Yes, of a sort; it's an inquiry into your ability to pay, and almost no question that could throw light upon that is barred. You'll be asked about your business in New York, your income and expenses, your family and your father's means. It will be a turning inside out of your most intimate affairs.”

”Why, I should expect all that,” I said.

”But, Nelly--” he hesitated. ”You're alone here?”

He had not before alluded to Mrs. Whitney, though I suppose he understood that she had gone; I appreciated his delicacy.

”I'm afraid you'll be asked about that,” he went on; ”asked, I mean, how a young woman without money maintains a fine apartment. They'll inquire about your servants, the daily expenses of your table, your wine bills, if you ever have any; then they'll question you about your visitors, their character and number, and try to wring admissions from you, and to give sinister shades to innocent relations. The reporters will all be there, a swarm of them. You're a semi-public character, more's the pity, and some lawyers like to be known for their severity to debtors. What a field day for the press! The beautiful Miss Wins.h.i.+p in supplementary proceedings-- columns of testimony, pages of pictures--! Ugh! In a word, the experience is so severe that you cannot undergo it.”

”I don't see how it's to be helped; is it a crime to live alone?” I said.

”I won't ask Uncle Timothy for money--and have Aunt Frank know about it.”

Again he hesitated, then he said more slowly, but plumping out the last words in a kind of desperation: ”I've heard a woman--once--asked if she had a lover--to pay the money, you know.”

I didn't understand at first; then a flush deepened upon my face.

”They wouldn't dare! This woman knows all about me; why, she's Meg Van Dam's dressmaker; Mrs. Whitney's too--” I said.

”I've heard it done,” John repeated patiently. ”You must pardon me. I didn't want to go into this phase of it, but it may explain what, with your permission, I am about to do. Now, before I go--for I must go at once to find this attorney, at his house, the Democratic Club, anywhere--I must be frank with you.”

He was already at the door, where he turned and faced me, looking almost handsome in his st.u.r.dy manliness, his colour heightened by excitement.

”I must tell you one thing,” he went on very slowly. ”I haven't in all the world a fraction of the money called for by this one bill; but in a way I have made some success. I am beginning to be known. If I myself offer terms, so much cash down, so much a month, pledging my word for the payment, the woman's lawyer will agree. She'll be glad to get the money in that way, or in any way. But I must guard your reputation. I shall tell plaintiff's counsel that you are my affianced wife, that I didn't know how badly you were in debt--both statements are true--and that I a.s.sume payment. I wish to a.s.sure you that, in thus a.s.serting our old relation, I shall not presume upon the liberty I am obliged to take.”

I think I have treated John badly; yet he brought me help. And he had no thought of recompense. Since he has seen how useless it was, he has ceased to pester me with love making, but has been simply, kindly helpful. And I have been so lonely, so hara.s.sed and tormented.