Part 26 (1/2)
”Good!” exclaimed Dr. Porter, ”and you, Mr. Cole, had better do the same thing. You ought to take a holiday. Get some of the cobwebs off your mind and gather in a little country atmosphere to put into your next book.”
”All I need,” I said, ”is some pills. I shall get you to prescribe them for me.”
”I won't,” he retorted rudely. ”You must go to bed at a reasonable hour, consume regular meals, and breathe clean air and take plenty of exercise. So long, get a move on you and take my advice at once, undiluted.”
”It would be ever so nice, if you could go, David,” said Frances, as soon as our good little doctor had left. ”I am sure you are tired also.
As for me, I know it is not so bad as he thinks. I can take Baby up on the Palisades, and to Staten Island and back on the ferry, and perhaps on the Coney Island boat, and----”
”Nothing of the sort,” I interrupted. ”Of course I don't care anything about Baby Paul and yourself, but I have a great pecuniary interest in your voice and I am going to have my money back, and you will have to sing in order to earn it, and----”
”And you can keep on saying all the horrid things you want to,” she put in. ”Now, David, be reasonable. You know that a stay in the country would do you ever so much good.”
”Very well,” I answered. ”Then I shall hire Eulalie to elope with Baby Paul and I'll go along to watch his teething, and you can stay here and inhale benzine at Madame's, and lose all your voice and grow thin and ugly, and be well punished for disobedience and rebellion, and by the time you've----”
We were interrupted by the sound of steps on the stairs. They were somewhat heavy, but not the deliberate thumps of Frieda's climbing. It was a swift and confident progress, in which I recognized none of the inmates of our menagerie. A second later I turned. A fine young woman of healthful color and dressed in excellent taste stood at the door.
”I--I beg your pardon,” she said. ”The colored woman told me to go right up to the top floor. How--how do you do, Mr. Cole?”
It was Miss Sophia Van Rossum, big as life, with a face perhaps more womanly and handsome than I had ever given her credit for possessing. In our surroundings she appeared like a fine hot-house flower suddenly transplanted to a poor little tenement yard. She was looking curiously at Frances, who was standing at my side.
CHAPTER XVIII
DIANA AMONG MORTALS
”I am awfully sorry that you took the trouble of coming all the way up here,” I told her. ”I am afraid that the colored maid is little accustomed to social usages. There is a little parlor downstairs.”
”Oh! It's all right, Mr. Cole. I asked for you and she just pointed up with her thumb and said 'Top floor,' so I climbed up.”
She took a step towards Frances, extending her hand.
”I know I have seen you before,” she said pleasantly, ”but I can't for the moment remember where we met.”
”I think, Miss Van Rossum, that you have only been acquainted with Mrs.
Dupont through the medium of my friend Gordon's talent. You may remember a 'Mother and Child' in his studio.”
”Of course. I remembered the face at once. Gordon is such a wonderful painter, so clever in obtaining the most marvelous likenesses. And--and he didn't flatter his models a great deal, either. I am very glad to meet you, Mrs. Dupont.”
Frances smiled, in her graceful way, and expressed her own pleasure.
”You--you also know Gordon, of course, since you posed for him, Mrs.
Dupont. I--I came here to speak with Mr. Cole about him.”
”I can hardly offer you the hospitality of my room, Miss Van Rossum,” I told her. ”It is a rather disorderly bachelor's den. If you will allow me to lead you downstairs to the little parlor the landlady provides her guests with, I shall be delighted to----”
”No, if you don't mind, I shall remain here for a moment. Mr. Cole, you are Gordon's best friend; he used to say that you were the great exception, a man one could always trust in everything. I hope Mrs.
Dupont will not mind, she--she is a woman and may be able to advise me.
I have legions of friends--we know thousands of people, but it doesn't seem to me that there is another soul to whom I may come for--for a little----”