Part 27 (1/2)
”No, of course he ain't,” replied Tom. ”Do you think I'd take him out calling, with such clothes as he wears, to see any of the girls?”
”I hope not,” answered Rita, struggling with a smile.
”No, sir,” insisted Tom, ”and if I lose my place because you mistreat Williams on Dic's account, he shan't come into this house. Do you understand? If he does, I'll kick him out.”
”You kick Dic!” returned Rita, laughing. ”You would be afraid to say 'boo' to him. Tom, I should be sorry to see you after you had tried to kick Dic.”
”Well, I'll tell you now, Sis,” said Tom, threateningly, ”you treat Williams right. If you don't, your big, jakey friend will suffer.”
”It is on Dic's capital that father is making so much money,” responded Rita. ”Had it not been for him we would still be on Blue. I certainly wish we were back there.”
”Your father will soon pay Dic his money,” said Mrs. Bays, solemnly, ”and then we will be free to act as we wish.”
”The debt to Dic is no great thing,” said Tom. ”The firm owes Williams nearly four times that amount, and he isn't a man who will stand much foolishness. Father is not making so much money, either, as you think for, and the first thing you know, with your smartness, you will ruin him and me both, if you keep on making a fool of yourself. But that wouldn't hurt you. You don't think of n.o.body but yourself.”
”That has always been Rita's chief fault,” remarked the Chief Justice, sitting in solemn judgment upon a case that was not before her. Poor Rita was beginning to feel that she was a monster of selfishness. Her father came feebly to her defence.
”I don't believe the girl lives,” said Thomas, Sr., ”who is less selfish than Rita. But Fisher and I do owe Williams a great deal of money, and are not making as much as we did at first. The crops failed last summer, and collections are hard. Williams has been pressing for money, and I hope all the family will treat him well, for he is the kind of man who might take out his spite upon me, for the sake of getting even with somebody else.”
Rita's heart sank. Her father, though a weak va.s.sal, had long been her only ally.
Had Williams not been a suitor for her hand, Rita would have found him agreeable; and if her heart had been free, he might have won it. So long as he maintained the att.i.tude of friend and did not conflict with Dic's claims, he was well received; but when he became a lover--a condition difficult to refrain from--she almost hated and greatly feared him.
Despite her wretchedness, she accepted his visits and invitations for her father's sake, and at times felt that she was under the spell of a cruel wizard from Boston. With all these conditions, the battle of Dic's wooing, though he held the citadel,--Rita's heart,--was by no means an even fight. There were other causes operating that might eventually rout him, even from that citadel.
One evening, while sitting before Billy Little's fire, Dic's campaign was discussed in detail. The young man said:--
”Rita and I are to be married soon after I return from New York. If her mother consents, well and good; if she refuses, we will bear up manfully under her displeasure and ignore it. I have often thought of your remark about Mrs. Bays as a mother-in-law.”
”She certainly would be ideal,” responded Billy. ”But I hope you will get the girl. She's worth all the trouble the old lady can make.”
”Why do you say 'hope'?” asked Dic. ”I'm sure of getting her. Why, Billy Little, if I were to lose that girl, I believe I should go mad.”
”No, you wouldn't,” returned his friend. ”You would console yourself with the dimpler.”
”Why, Billy Little, you are crazy--excuse me--but you don't understand,”
expostulated Dic. ”For me, all that is worth possessing in the whole big universe is concentrated in one small bit of humanity. Her little body encompa.s.ses it all. Sukey Yates could be nothing to me, even though I cared nothing for Rita. She has too many other friends, as she calls them, and probably is equally generous to all.”
”If you care for Rita, you should remain away from Sukey,” remarked Billy. ”She may be comprehensive in her affections, and she may have been--to state it mildly--overtender at times; but when a girl of her ardent temperament falls in love, she becomes dangerous, because she is really very attractive to the eye.”
”I don't go there often, and I'll take your advice and remain away. I have feared the danger you speak of, but--”
”Speak out, Dic; you may trust me,” said Billy. Dic continued:--
”I don't like to speak of a girl as I was going to speak of Sukey, but I'll explain. I have, of course, been unable to explain to Rita, and I'm a selfish brute to go to Sukey's at all. Rita has never complained, but there is always a troubled look in her eyes when she jestingly speaks of Sukey as my 'other girl.' Well, it's this way: Sukey often comes to see mother, who prefers her to Rita, and if she comes in the evening, of course I take her home. I believe I have not deliberately gone over to see her three times in all my life. Sometimes I ride home from church with her and spend part of the evening. Sukey is wonderfully pretty, and her health is so good that at times she looks like a little nymph. She is, in a way, entertaining too. As you say, she appeals to the eye, and when she grows affectionate, her purring and her dimples make a formidable array not at all to be despised. You are right. She is the same to a score of men, and I could not fall in love with her were she the only girl on earth. I should be kicked for speaking so of her or of any girl, but you know I would not speak so freely to any one but you.
Speaking to you seems almost like thinking.”
”If it makes you think, I shall be glad you spoke,” answered Billy.
”No more Sukey for me,” said Dic. ”I'll have nothing more to do with her. I want to be decent and worthy of Rita. I want to be true to her, and Sukey is apt to lead me in the other direction, without even the excuse on my part of caring for her. An honest man will not deliberately lead himself into temptation.”