Part 35 (1/2)

This she would not listen to. She said her husband that was to be must become a famous writer, for she wanted to be very proud of him. And Mr.

Fern came in to the room, and having the question put to him, decided it in the same manner, as he was sure to do when he learned that his younger daughter held that opinion.

The retired merchant bore the appearance of a man from whose shoulders the severe burden of a great weight had fallen. The tiger that had crouched so long in his path, ready at any moment to spring, had been vanquished. Beyond the profound humiliation of knowing that his sin was exposed to the gaze of two of his intimate friends, he had no cause for present grief. Both of them had proved friends indeed, and nothing was to be feared from any quarter. Hannibal had disappeared immediately after the interview at the Hoffman House, and it was supposed had gone back to France.

There was to be no haste about the wedding, after all. Now that the young couple felt perfectly sure of each other they were more willing than they had been to wait. The freedom that an understood engagement brings to Americans was theirs. If Millicent had only known the true condition of affairs, and was content with them, they would have been perfectly satisfied.

An old story tells how a certain colony of mice came to the unanimous conclusion that a bell should be hung around the neck of a cat for which they had a well-defined fear; and it also relates that none of the rodents were willing to undertake the task of placing the warning signal in the desired position. Both s.h.i.+rley and Daisy wished heartily that Millicent could be told the exact condition of their hopes and expectations, but neither had the courage to inform her. Many of their long conversations referred to this matter, and one day, when they had discussed it as usual, Daisy hit upon a bright idea.

”You don't suppose, do you, that Mr. Weil would tell Millie for us? He has done so many nice things, he might do one more.”

Roseleaf wore a thoughtful expression. He realized how much Archie had already done for him--realized it more fully than Daisy did; but he said the matter was worth thinking of. He wanted very much to have it settled.

”Would--would you--ask him?” he stammered. ”He would do anything for you.”

”Yes,” she responded, softly, ”I will ask him. But we had best be together. I do not want to broach the matter unless you are there.”

In a few days the opportunity came. Mr. Weil heard the voice he loved best explaining the situation.

”We want Millie to understand,” said Daisy. ”If she--if she still likes s.h.i.+rley herself, there may be an unpleasant scene, and you will see how difficult it is for either of us to tell her. But you, who have done so many kindnesses for us, could convey the information to her without the diffidence we should feel. Will you, dear Mr. Weil?”

And Archie said he would, and that it would be a pleasure to him. And a bright light illumined the faces of the young people, as another stone was rolled out of the pathway their feet were to tread.

Mr. Weil did not know how to approach his subject except by a more or less direct route. One day he was talking with Miss Fern about her new novel, and she spoke of Mr. Roseleaf in connection with its nearness to the required revision.

”I don't know as s.h.i.+rley will find time to help you out,” he replied.

”He is so busy just now with Miss Daisy.”

She did not seem to comprehend him in the least.

”Oh, he is merely filling in the time, as a matter of amus.e.m.e.nt,” she answered. ”When I am ready he will be.”

He looked at her earnestly.

”Is it fair to speak of love-making as a matter of amus.e.m.e.nt, Miss Fern?”

”Love-making? Is he, then, practicing for his novel with Daisy, also?”

she inquired. ”I am afraid he will get erroneous views of love in that quarter. She is such a child that she can have little knowledge of the subject.”

She had evidently no suspicion of the truth, and he determined to become more explicit.

”Perhaps that is exactly what he wishes,” said he. ”The virgin heart of a young girl certainly affords tempting ground for the explorations of a novelist.”

For the first time she showed a slightly startled face.

”I trust you do not mean that Mr. Roseleaf is deceiving my sister with pretended affection?” she said. ”I did not think him that kind of man.

If he is making love to her, as you call it, surely she understands that it is only for the purposes of his forthcoming novel?”