Part 17 (2/2)

”I shall be nineteen my next birthday and I'll have you understand that boys have been plentiful in my career, Mr. Benson. Of course if you don't care to talk with me----”

”I do--I do, Peg-o'-my-heart!” Courtlandt's name for her slipped unconsciously from Tommy's lips. He looked at her apologetically but the girl was too engrossed in her troubled thoughts to notice what he called her. Rea.s.sured he answered her question. ”I think that Steve and Jerry are bully pals.”

”Pals! Ye G.o.ds, and that's all. Honest now, Tommy, have you ever seen Steve catch Jerry's hand as though he just couldn't help it?” Benson met her triumphant glance with a sternly accusing eye.

”Oh, the precocity and sophistication of twentieth century youth! Look here, young woman, what have you been reading?”

”Reading! Tommy, you're overdoing it. You're too innocent to be true,”

with a little rush of laughter. ”Now I ask you, would you want a wife who was as distantly friendly to you as Jerry is to Steve?”

”I should not,” with convincing emphasis. ”But why should your sister have married Courtlandt if she didn't love him? I can't conceive of his not being mad about her.”

”Dad was the why. I didn't know until I asked him if I might come here.

I went to San Francisco with my roommate when school closed, but I intended to come to Jerry as quickly as I politely could. When he gave me permission to come Dad told me that he expected me to marry family as Jerry had--that he had brought her up with the idea and that she had not disappointed him. That's that!”

”In the vernacular of the backwoods, 'She seen her duty an' she done it,'” interpolated Benson. ”Might--might an humble admirer ask if you are planning to please your father or--or yourself, when you marry?” He succeeded in keeping eyes and tone gayly impersonal.

”I don't intend to marry at all, that is, not for years and years and years.”

”You'll be quite a nice old lady by that time, won't you?”

”You're not nearly as good-looking when you scowl, Tommy. As I was saying, when so rudely interrupted, when I do marry it will be to please myself. I told Dad a thing or two,” and Tommy, observing the tiny flames which memory had set in her hazel eyes, allowed that she had.

”I'm puzzled about Jerry's money,” Peggy went on thoughtfully. ”Dad gives us an allowance fit for princesses of blood royal; that's an out-of-date simile now, isn't it? When I asked her this morning for five dollars with which to tip the man who brought up my trunk, first she was shocked at the idea of tipping one of the outfit, and then she grew as red as fire and stammered that she had no small bills. Ye G.o.ds, what do you know about that?” with slangy amazement.

”Sweet cookie, that's nothing. Many a time I haven't been able to pry a dollar bill loose.”

”That is different. You're--you're working and it takes time to make a living,” with sweet earnestness. Tommy shot a quick look at her. Was she laughing at him? No, she was taking his lack of funds seriously. ”About that Alexandrite ring. Once Jerry would have ordered it by wire before you could say 'Jack Robinson'--but all she said was, 'I--I'm not buying jewels now, Peg.' Has she turned miser or has Dad----” her eyes flew to Benson's in startled questioning. ”Dad was furious because Jerry and Steve left New York. Could he have stopped her allowance? But--but if he did--surely Steve would give----” she stopped in troubled uncertainty.

”Why don't you ask your sister?” suggested Benson gravely.

”I will. I can't believe that Dad would--well he'd better never try to drive me. And that's that,” with a defiant tilt of her chin.

”Would you stick to--to a man, a poor man, you loved even if you knew that your father would cut you off with the proverbial s.h.i.+lling?” Her hazel eyes met his turbulent blue ones frankly.

”Indeed I would, Mr. Tommy Benson. I shouldn't be afraid to marry a poor man, that is, a poor man with a future. I should want to be sure that he was that kind. I love to cook and sew and I should adore taking care of a ducky little house and brus.h.i.+ng my husband's coat collar when he started off for work in the morning and going to market. There is only one thing I should hate to economize about----” her expression and tone were introspective. Benson was conscious that his heart was in his eyes but he didn't care. She was adorable with that thoughtful pucker of her vivid lips. He had to steady his voice before he asked lightly:

”And what may that one thing be, Peg-o'-my-heart?”

”Children,” she answered promptly and with utter absence of self-consciousness. ”I want eight and--and I suppose that's rather extravagant for a poor man to start with, don't you, Tommy?”

Benson held his emotions in a grip of steel. At that moment the boy-he-had-been waved good-bye and slipped away forever. The man's eyes were gravely tender as he answered the girl's question with judicial deliberation.

”Perhaps--not. That is, not for a poor man with a future.” He tightened on the bridle. ”Steve will think we're quitters. Let's go!”

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