Part 30 (1/2)
”I mean to say that I think the whole business is discreditable to both of you--to his intelligence, to your character.”
”You are frank,” said she, trying to hide her anger.
”I am frank,” replied he, undisturbed. He looked at her. ”Why should I not be?”
”You know that I need you, that I don't dare resent,” said she. ”So isn't it--a little cowardly?”
”Why do you need me? Not for money, for you know you'll not get that.”
”I don't want it,” cried she, agitated. ”I never thought of it.”
”Yes, you've probably thought of it,” replied he coolly. ”But you will not get it.”
”Well, that's settled--I'll not get it.”
”Then why do you need me? Of what use can I be to you? Only one use in the world. To tell you the truth--the exact truth. Is not that so?”
”Yes,” she said. ”That is what I want from you--what I can't get from anyone else. No one else knows the truth--not even Mrs. Brindley, though she's intelligent. I take back what I said about your being cowardly. Oh, you do stab my vanity so! You mustn't mind my crying out. I can't help it--at least, not till I get used to you.”
”Cry out,” said he. ”It does no harm.”
”How wonderfully you understand me!” exclaimed she. ”That's why I let you say to me anything you please.”
He was smiling peculiarly--a smile that somehow made her feel uncomfortable. She nerved herself for some still deeper stab into her vanity. He said, his gaze upon her and ironical:
”I'm sorry I can't return the compliment.”
”What compliment?” asked she.
”Can't say that you understand me. Why do you think I am doing this?”
She colored. ”Oh, no indeed, Mr. Keith,” she protested, ”I don't think you are in love with me--or anything of that sort. Indeed, I do not. I know you better than that.”
”Really?” said he, amused. ”Then you are not human.”
”How can you think me so vain?” she protested.
”Because you are so,” replied he. ”You are as vain--no more so, but just as much so--as the average pretty and attractive woman brought up as you have been. You are not obsessed by the notion that your physical charms are all-powerful, and in that fact there is hope for you. But you attach entirely too much importance to them. You will find them a hindrance for a long time before they begin to be a help to you in your career. And they will always be a temptation to you to take the easy, stupid way of making a living--the only way open to most women that is not positively repulsive.”
”I think it is the most repulsive,” said Mildred.
”Don't cant,” replied he, unimpressed. ”It's not so repulsive to your sort of woman as manual labor--or as any kind of work that means no leisure, no luxury and small pay.”
”I wonder,” said Mildred. ”I--I'm afraid you're right. But I WON'T admit it. I don't dare.”
”That's the finest, truest thing I've ever heard you say,” said Keith.
Mildred was pleased out of all proportion to the compliment. Said she with frank eagerness, ”Then I'm not altogether hopeless?”
”As a character, no indeed,” replied he. ”But as a career-- I was about to say, you may set your mind at rest. I shall never try to collect for my services. I am doing all this solely out of obstinacy.”
”Obstinacy?” asked the puzzled girl.