Part 3 (2/2)
”Do--do you know who I am?”
”Sure, you're Miss Ainsworth, old Jim Hodgin's private secretary.”
”How long have you been there?”
”About a year and a half.”
”I never noticed,” she said, and there was pain in her voice.
”Oh, well,” he said soothingly, ”there's always a jam going up and down when you do, and you are tired evenings.”
”But you are in the jam, too, and you are tired as well as I, but you have seen.”
”That's my job,” he said complacently. ”I got to know the folks in our building.”
”How much do you know about me?” she pursued with morbid curiosity.
He grinned at her again, companionably. ”You're twenty-five years old, and you're stuck on that fellow Inglish, with Morrow and Mayne over at the Holland Building. You used to live with your aunt up on Thorn Street, but she died and you got the house. B. T. Raines is your brother-in-law, and he's got two kids, but his wife is not as good-looking as you are.
You stayed with them two months after your aunt died, but last week you got a bunch of your beaux, soldiers and things, to build you some steps up the outside of your house and now you live up there by yourself. Gee, I'd think you'd be afraid of pirates and Greasers and things coming up that canyon from the bay to rob you--you being just a woman alone up there.”
Eveley gazed upon him in blank astonishment. ”Do--do you know that much about everybody in our building?” she asked.
”Well, I know plenty about most of 'em, and some things that some of 'em don't know I know, and wouldn't be keen on having talked around among strangers. But of course I pays the most attention to the good-lookers,”
he admitted frankly.
”Thank you,” said Eveley, with a faint smile. Then she flushed. ”What nerve for me to talk of a.s.similation,” she said. ”We don't know how to go about it. We have been asleep and blind and careless and stupid, but you--why, you will a.s.similate us, if we don't look out. You are a born a.s.similator, Angelo, do you know that?”
”I guess so,” came the answer vaguely, but politely. ”I live about half a mile below you, Miss Ainsworth, at the foot of the canyon on the bay front. That's all the diff there is between us and you highbrows in Mission Hills--about half a mile of canyon.” He smiled broadly, pleased with his fancy.
”That isn't much, is it, Angelo? And it will be less pretty soon, now that we are trying to open our eyes. Good night, Angelo. I will see you to-morrow--really see you, I mean. And please don't a.s.similate me quite so fast--you must give me time. I--I am new to this business and progress very slowly.”
Then she said good night again, and went away. And Angelo swaggered back to his companions. ”Gee, ain't she a beaut?” he gloated. ”All the swells in our building is nuts on that dame. But she gives 'em all the go-by.”
Then the Irish-American League, without the a.s.similator, went into a private session with cigarettes and near-beer in a small dingy room far down on Fifth Street--a session that lasted far into the night.
But Eveley Ainsworth did not know that. She was sitting in the dark beside her window, staring out at the lights that circled the bay. But she did not see them.
”a.s.similate the foreign element,” she whispered in a frightened voice. ”I am afraid we can't. It is too late. They got started first--and they are so shrewd. But we've got to do something, and quickly, or--they will a.s.similate us, beyond a doubt. And weren't they right about it, after all? Isn't it patriotism and loyalty for them to go out to foreign countries to pick up the finest and best of our civilization and take it back to enrich their native land? It is almost--blasphemous--to teach them a new patriotism to a new country. And yet we have to do it, to make our country safe for us. But who has brains enough and heart enough to do it? Oh, dear! And they do not call it duty that brings them here to take what we can give them--they call it love--not love of us and of America, but love of the little Wops and the little Greasers and the little Polaks in their own home-land. Oh, dear, such a frightful mess we have got ourselves into. And what a dunce I was to go to that silly meeting and get myself mixed up in it.”
CHAPTER V
HER INHERITANCE
The worries of the night never lived over into the sunny day with Eveley, and when she arose the next morning and saw the amethyst mist lifting into suns.h.i.+ne, when she heard the sweet ecstatic chirping of little Mrs.
Bride beneath, she smiled contentedly. The world was still beautiful, and love remained upon its throne.
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