Part 43 (2/2)
”Very well,” she said at last. ”Since you are in such high favor, go and tell her that she can come home, and nothing more will be said about it.
I suppose there's nothing else to do under the circ.u.mstances. But I'll teach her a lesson later!”
Quin balanced the paper-knife carefully on one finger.
”I don't think you quite understand,” he said. ”She isn't coming home.
She still says she is going to marry Mr. Phipps. He will probably get her telegram when he goes to the hotel, and when she doesn't turn up in Chicago he will take the first train down here. That's the way I've figured it out.”
”And do you think I am going to sit here, and do nothing while all this is taking place?”
”No; that's what I been driving at all along. I want you and Miss Nell to come to some compromise before he gets here.”
”What sort of compromise? Haven't I swallowed my pride and promised to say nothing if she comes back? Does she want me to get down on my knees and apologize?”
”No. That's the trouble. She don't want you to do anything. All she is thinking about is getting married and going to New York.”
”She can go to New York without that! That contemptible man! I knew all summer he was filling her head with romantic notions, but I never dreamed of this. Why, she's nothing but a child! She doesn't know what love is----” Then her voice broke in sudden panic. ”We must stop it at any cost. Go--go promise her anything. Tell her I'll send her to New York, to Europe, anywhere to get her out of that wretch's clutches. My poor child!
My poor baby!”
Her grief was no less violent than her anger had been, and her tearless sobs almost shook her worn old frame to pieces.
Quin knew just how she felt. It had been like that with him last night when he heard the news. With one stride he was beside her and had gathered her into his arms.
”There, there!” he said tenderly. ”It's going to be all right. We are going to find a way out.”
This unexpected caress, probably the first one Madam had received in many years, reduced her to a state of unprecedented humility. She transferred her resentment from Eleanor to Harold Phipps, and announced herself ready to follow whatever course Quin suggested.
”I'd offer her just this and nothing more,” he advised: ”The fare to New York, tuition at the dramatic school, and ten dollars a week.”
”She can't live on that.”
”Yes, she can. Rose Martel does.”
Madam became truculent at once.
”Don't quote that girl to me. Eleanor's been used to very different surroundings.”
”That's the point. Let her have what she hasn't been used to. You have tried giving her a bunch of your money and telling her how to spend it.
Try giving her a little of her own and letting her do as she likes with it.”
”I don't care what she does for the present, if she just won't marry that man Phipps. Make her give you her word of honor not to have anything whatever to do with him for the next six months. By that time she will have forgotten all about him.”
”I'll do my best,” said Quin, rising. ”You'll hear from me first thing in the morning.”
”Well, go now! But ring first for Hannah. We must pack the child's things to-night. The main thing is to get her out of town before that hound can get here. Don't you think either Ranny or Isobel had better take her on to New York to-morrow?”
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