Part 52 (1/2)
”I'm awfully sorry I hurt you,” he said.
”It was this ring again,” she explained, though she had not meant to say the ”again.”
”My ring? Our ring?” he murmured, with such joy that her sportsmans.h.i.+p compelled a last effort at playing fair.
”Under the circ.u.mstances,” she said, ”I think I'd better return it to you--with thanks for the loan.”
”I don't want it back!” he gasped. ”I won't have it back.”
”You didn't agree to marry a beggar.”
”I want to marry you--just you,” he pleaded. ”The engagement stands.”
”You're terribly polite, but I can't--not for charity.”
”Charity--bos.h.!.+” he stormed. ”I can't get along without you. You couldn't get along without a lot of money, Persis. If--if you'll let the engagement stand I'll put your father on his feet again. I'll--I'll do anything.”
”How put him on his feet? I thought he was smashed?”
”He went to Chicago to raise a lot of money. He couldn't. He's coming back to face the music. It's a funeral march unless--unless--well, I could take up his obligations. I don't understand it very well myself, to say nothing of explaining it to you. But I've got a lot of money, and money is what your father's enemies want. He'll be all right if he's tided over the shallow places. So for my sake and your governor's, let me announce the engagement.”
”Think what people would say. It looks so hideously mercenary on my part.”
”We can prove that we were engaged before this thing threatened.
Everybody will have to confess it's a true love match on both sides.
Please, please, Persis! pretty please!”
She resigned herself to all the shames she foresaw, and sighed:
”All right, Willie, it will brace Dad up a bit.”
”Is he the only one you think of?” Willie pouted. ”Haven't you a word of--of love for me?” He wrung her hands in his little claws again, and they set her nerves on edge. She wanted to shriek her detestation of her plight; but she controlled herself enough to keep down her feelings. She could not, however, mimic love where she felt loathing--the best she could do was to mumble:
”We can't very well play a love scene up here before everybody, can we?
I may feel more enthusiastic when I've had a bath and a change of costume.”
She broke from him and hurried down the steps. He overtook her half-way to plead:
”Let me announce our engagement now--to the people here.”
”Not now,” she pleaded; ”not here!” And she ran on. But he followed chuckling. He had a great dramatic idea.
CHAPTER XL
That was an extraordinary dinner. The famished aristocracy hovered about the kitchen porch like waifs, pleading for the privilege of a.s.sisting.
Ten Eyck wanted to scour the cake-dish or put raisins in something. He and the rest were set to work dusting the palatial dining-hall and bringing forth the best Enslee plate. Willie stood by and warned them to be careful. He was in so triumphant a humor that he felt nearly like breaking something himself.