Part 23 (1/2)

”And you are a charming little _comedienne_,” laughed Chairo, ”and you ought to have devoted yourself to the stage.”

”The world's my stage,” she said, raising her eyes with a flash of indignation. ”And there is upon it every kind of character. But while I have made a fool of many I have always respected you, and this is how you pay me for it!”

Chairo was not deceived by her pretty little air of indignation, but he said to himself that though it was a part she was playing, she played it well; so he arose, and, taking her hand, said:

”I do not mean to be unkind, Neaera, and for anything you do to help me I shall be profoundly grateful.”

”What shall I do, Chairo?” she asked, looking up appealingly to him.

”Ah! that is in your hands,” he answered.

”You can count upon me,” she said, holding his hand in both of hers.

Chairo did not wish to prolong the interview, so by way of farewell he lifted her hands to his lips. Then she fell upon her knees, kissed his hands not once but many times, and bathed them in her tears. He lifted her gently and put her in her chair.

”Good-bye, little woman,” he said gently, ”and be sure that whatever you may do, I shall feel kindly toward you,” and disengaging himself from her, he left the room.

Neaera saw him leave with something like real affection in her heart.

”He is the best of them all,” she said, ”and I might have loved him really.” And whether it was that there was in her something that might have responded to him had he love to give her or whether it was mere reaction from her own trumped-up distress, there was a moment as Neaera sat there when the little woman did sincerely think herself in love.

But the recollection that Lydia was in the next room came to her, and she wondered how much Lydia had heard. She looked in the mirror and saw there the reflection of the very agitation she wished Lydia to suspect, and so before the trace of it could disappear, she hurried to her victim. Perhaps, thought she, Lydia had heard something without hearing too much.

CHAPTER XXV

THE LIBEL INVESTIGATED

Chairo was sitting at the head of one of the tables in the hall of our building, and Ariston and I were on either side of him, when the morning papers were brought in. Since the disappearance of ”Liberty,” only two morning papers were daily published in New York: the state paper, ent.i.tled ”The New York News,” and ”Sacrifice.” Chairo rapidly perused ”The News” and handed it to me. I was absorbed half in consuming the oatmeal, with which our breakfast usually closed, and half in reading ”The News,” when I was suddenly aware of an agitation in my neighbor which caused me to look up at him.

I was surprised at the shape this agitation took; Chairo was a choleric man; as I first remember him, very slight causes of annoyance sent the blood to his face and found expression at once in a few violent sentences. This morning, the first impatient gesture over, he sat very still, pale, and with beads of cold perspiration on his forehead.

”What is it?” asked Ariston.

Chairo pushed the paper to him.

Ariston, after reading the pa.s.sage indicated, said:

”Of course I understand that publicity of any kind on such a subject must be odious to you; but after all, it is a lie, and can be easily proved to be such.”

”It is not altogether a lie,” answered Chairo. ”I was at Masters's rooms at the hour indicated, but Lydia was not there--at least,” he added, correcting himself, ”I did not see her there.” For already he began to suspect that Neaera had been at her tricks again.

”I shall go to the editor at once,” continued Chairo, ”and insist on the publication of an apology.”

The paper had by this time been handed to me and I had read the libel.

”Don't go to the editor now,” urged Ariston. ”You are justly indignant, and you have a man to deal with, in the editor, who will only add to your exasperation. Write a simple denial of the fact that you have seen or spoken to Lydia at any time or place since your arrest.”

”I won't drag her name into the paper again,” exclaimed Chairo. ”If I write anything it must be so contrived as not to introduce her name. I have a right to insist that my private affairs be no more discussed in the paper.”