miss billie married-第17部分

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haven't　climbed　a　mountain　or　paddled　a　canoe；

for　a　year。　　I've　been　in　Chicago　cultivating　the

acquaintance　of　John　Doe　and　Richard　Roe。''



‘‘You　meanlaw？''



‘‘Sure。　　I　studied　it　here　for　a　while；　before

that　bout　of　ours　a　couple　of　years　ago。　　Billy

drove　me　away；　then。''



‘‘Billy！erMrs。　Henshaw？''



‘‘Yes。　　I　thought　I　told　you。　　She　turned　down

my　tenth…dozen　proposal　so　emphatically　that　I

lost　all　interest　in　Boston　and　took　to　the　tall

timber　again。　　But　I've　come　back。　　A　friend　of

my　father's　wrote　me　to　come　on　and　consider　a

good　opening　there　was　in　his　law　office。　　I　came

on　a　month　ago；　and　considered。　　Then　I　went

back　to　pack　up。　　Now　I've　come　for　good；　and

here　I　am。　　You　have　my　history　to　date。　　Now

tell　me　of　yourself。　　You're　looking　as　fit　as　a

penny　from　the　mint；　even　though　you　have

discarded　that　‘lovely'　brown　beard。　　Was　that

a　concession　toer_Mary　Jane_？''



Arkwright　lifted　a　quick　hand　of　protest。



‘‘　‘Michael　Jeremiah；'　please。　　There　is　no

‘Mary　Jane；'　now；''　he　said　a　bit　stiffly。



The　other　stared　a　little。　　Then　he　gave　a　low

chuckle。



‘‘　‘Michael　Jeremiah；'　''　he　repeated　musingly；

eyeing　the　glowing　tip　of　his　cigar。　　‘‘And　to

think　how　that　mysterious　‘M。　J。'　used　to

tantalize　me！　　Do　you　mean；''　he　added；　turning

slowly；　‘‘that　no　one　calls　you　‘Mary　Jane'

now？''



‘‘Not　if　they　know　what　is　best　for　them。''



‘‘Oh！''　Calderwell　noted　the　smouldering　fire

in　the　other's　eyes　a　little　curiously。　　‘‘Very

well。　　I'll　take　the　hintMichael　Jeremiah。''



‘‘Thanks。''　　Arkwright　relaxed　a　little。　　‘‘To

tell　the　truth；　I've　had　quite　enough　nowof

Mary　Jane。''



‘‘Very　good。　　So　be　it；''　nodded　the　other；　still

regarding　his　friend　thoughtfully。　　‘‘But　tell　me

what　of　yourself？''



Arkwright　shrugged　his　shoulders。



‘‘There's　nothing　to　tell。　　You've　seen。　　I'm

here。''



‘‘Humph！　　Very　pretty；''　scoffed　Calderwell。　

‘‘Then　if　_you_　won't　tell；　I　_will_。　　I　saw　Billy　a

month　ago；　you　see。　　It　seems　you've　hit　the　trail

for　Grand　Opera；　as　you　threatened　to　that　night

in　Paris；　but　you　_haven't_　brought　up　in　vaudeville；

as　you　prophesied　you　would　dothough；　for

that　matter；　judging　from　the　plums　some　of　the

stars　are　picking　on　the　vaudeville　stage；　nowadays；

that　isn't　to　be　sneezed　at。　　But　Billy　says

you've　made　two　or　three　appearances　already　on

the　sacred　boards　themselvesone　of　them　a

subscription　performanceand　that　you　created

no　end　of　a　sensation。''



‘‘Nonsense！　　I'm　merely　a　student　at　the　Opera

School　here；''　scowled　Arkwright。



‘‘Oh；　yes；　Billy　said　you　were　that；　but　she　also

said　you　wouldn't　be；　long。　　That　you'd　already

had　one　good　offerI'm　not　speaking　of　marriage

and　that　you　were　going　abroad　next

summer；　and　that　they　were　all　insufferably

proud　of　you。''



‘‘Nonsense！''　scowled　Arkwright；　again；　coloring

like　a　girl。　　‘‘That　is　only　some　ofof　Mrs。

Henshaw's　kind　flattery。''



Calderwell　jerked　the　cigar　from　between　his

lips；　and　sat　suddenly　forward　in　his　chair。



‘‘Arkwright；　tell　me　about　them。　　How　are

they　making　it　go？''



Arkwright　frowned。



‘‘Who？　　Make　what　go？''　he　asked。



‘‘The　Henshaws。　　Is　she　happy？　　Is　heon

the　square？''



Arkwright's　face　darkened。



‘‘Well；　really；''　he　began；　but　Calderwell　interrupted。



‘‘Oh；　come；　don't　be　squeamish。　　You　think

I'm　butting　into　what　doesn't　concern　me；　but

I'm　not。　　What　concerns　Billy　does　concern　me。　

And　if　he　doesn't　make　her　happy；　I'llI'll　kill

him。''



In　spite　of　himself　Arkwright　laughed。　　The

vehemence　of　the　other's　words；　and　the　fierceness

with　which　he　puffed　at　his　cigar　as　he　fell

back　in　his　chair　were　most　expressive



‘‘Well；　I　don't　think　you　need　to　load　revolvers

nor　sharpen　daggers；　just　yet；''　he　observed　grimly。



Calderwell　laughed　this　time；　though　without

much　mirth。



‘‘Oh；　I'm　not　in　love　with　Billy；　now；''　he

explained。　　‘‘Please　don't　think　I　am。　　I　shouldn't

see　her　if　I　was；　of　course。''



Arkwright　changed　his　position　suddenly；　bringing

his　face　into　the　shadow。　　Calderwell　talked

on　without　pausing。



‘‘No；　I'm　not　in　love　with　Billy。　　But　Billy's

a　trump。　　You　know　that。''



‘‘I　do。''　　The　words　were　low；　but　steadily

spoken。



‘‘Of　course　you　do！　　We　all　do。　　And　we　want

her　happy。　　But　as　for　her　marrying　Bertram

you　could　have　bowled　me　over　with　a　soap　bubble

when　I　heard　she'd　done　it。　　Now　understand：

Bertram　is　a　good　fellow；　and　I　like　him。　　I've

known　him　all　his　life；　and　he's　all　right。　　Oh；　six

or　eight　years　ago；　to　be　sure；　he　got　in　with　a　set

of　fellowsBob　Seaver　and　his　cliquethat

were　no　good。　　Went　in　for　Bohemianism；　and

all　that　rot。　　It　wasn't　good　for　Bertram。　　He's

got　the　confounded　temperament　that　goes　with

his　talent；　I　supposethough　why　a　man　can't

paint　a　picture；　or　sing　a　song；　and　keep　his　temper

and　a　level　head　I　don't　see！''



‘‘He　can；''　cut　in　Arkwright；　with　curt　emphasis。



‘‘Humph！　　Well；　that's　what　I　think。　　But；

about　this　marriage　business。　　Bertram　admires

a　pretty　face　wherever　he　sees　it_to　paint_；　and

always　has。　　Not　but　that　he's　straight　as

a　string　with　womenI　don't　mean　that；

but　girls　are　always　just　so　many　pictures　to　be

picked　up　on　his　brushes　and　transferred　to　his

canvases。　　And　as　for　his　settling　down　and

marrying　anybody　for　keeps；　right　alongGreat

Scott！　imagine　Bertram　Henshaw　as　a　_domestic_

man！''



Arkwright　stirred　restlessly　as　he　spoke　up　in

quick　defense：



‘‘Oh；　but　he　is；　I　assure　you。　　II've　seen

them　in　their　home　togethermany　times。　　I

think　they　arevery　happy。''　　Arkwright　spoke

with　decision；　though　still　a　little　diffidently。



Calderwell　was　silent。　　He　had　picked　up　the

little　gilt　band　he　had　torn　from　his　cigar　and　was

fingering　it　musingly。



‘‘Yes；　I've　seen　themonce；''　he　said；　after

a　minute。　　‘‘I　took　dinner　with　them　when　I　was

on；　a　month　ago。''



‘‘I　heard　you　did。''



At　something　in　Arkwright's　voice；　Calderwell

turned　quickly。



‘‘What　do　you　mean？　　Why　do　you　say　it　like

that？''



Arkwright　laughed。　　The　constraint　fled　from

his　manner。



‘‘Well；　I　may　as　well　tell　you。　　You'll　hear　of

it。　　It's　no　secret。　　Mrs。　Henshaw　herself　tells　of

it　everywhere。　　It　was　her　friend；　Alice　Greggory；

who　told　me　of　it　first；　however。　　It　seems

the　cook　was　gone；　and　the　mistress　had　to　get

the　dinner　herself。''



‘‘Yes；　I　know　that。''



‘‘But　you　should　hear　Mrs。　Henshaw　tell　the

story　now；　or　Bertram。　　It　seems　she　knew　nothing

whatever　about　cooking；　and　her　trials　and

tribulations　in　getting　that　dinner　on　to　the

table　were　only　one　degree　worse　than　the　dinner

itself；　according　to　her　story。　　Didn't　youer

notice　anything？''



‘‘Notice　anything！''　exploded　Calderwell。　　‘‘I

noticed　that　Billy　was　so　brilliant　she　fairly

radiated　sparks；　and　I　noticed　that　Bertram　was

so　glum　hehe　almost　radiated　thunderclaps。　

Then　I　saw　that　Billy's　high　spirits　were　all

assumed　to　cover　a　threatened　burst　of　tears；

and　I　laid　it　all　to　him。　　I　thought　he'd　said

something　to　hurt　her；　and　I　could　have　punched

him。　　Great　Scott！　　Was　_that_　what　ailed　them？''



‘‘I　reckon　it　was。　　Alice　says　that　since　then

Mrs。　Henshaw　has　fairly　haunted　the　kitchen；

begging　Eliza　to　teach　her　everything；　_every　single

thing_　she　knows！''



Calderwell　chuckled。



‘‘If　that　isn't　just　like　Billy！　　She　never　does

anything　by　halves。　　By　George；　but　she　was

game　over　that　dinner！　　I　can　see　it　all　now。''



‘‘Alice　says　she's　really　learning　to　cook；　in

spite　of　old　Pete's　horror；　and　Eliza's　pleadings

not　to　spoil　her　pretty　hands。''



‘‘Then　Pete　is　back　all　right？　　What　a　faithful

old　soul　he　is！''



Arkwright　frowned　slightly。



‘‘Yes；　he's　faithful；　but　he　isn't　all　right；　by

any　means。　　I　think　he's　a　sick　man；　myself。''



‘‘What　makes　Billy　let　him　work；　then？''



‘‘Let　him！''　sniffed　Arkwright。　　‘‘I'd　like　to

see　you　try　to　stop　him！　　Mrs。　Henshaw　begs　and

pleads　with　him　to　stop；　but　he　scouts　the　idea。　

Pete　is　thoroughly　and　unalterably　convinced

that　the　family　would　starve　to　death　if　it　weren't

for　him；　and　Mrs。　Henshaw　says　that　she'll

admit　he　has　some　grounds　for　his　opinion　when

one　remembers　the　condition　of　the　kitchen　and

dining…room　the　night　she　presided　over　them。''



‘‘Poor　Billy！''　chuckled　Calderwell。　　‘‘I'd

have　gone　down　into　the　kitchen　myself　if　I'd

suspected　what　was　going　on。''




Arkwright　raised　his　eyebrows。



‘‘Perhaps　it's　well　you　didn'tif　Bertram's

picture　of　what　he　found　there　when　he　went

down　is　a　true　one。　　Mrs。　Henshaw　acknowledges

that　even　the　cat　sought　refuge　under　the　stove。''



‘‘As　if　the　veriest　worm　that　crawls　ever　needed

to　seek　refuge　from　Billy！''　scoffed　Calderwell。　

‘‘By　the　way；　what's　this　Annex　I　hear　of？　　Bertram

mentioned　it；　but　I　couldn't　get　either　of

them　to　tell　what　it　was。　　Billy　wouldn't；　and

Bertram　said　he　couldn'tnot　with　Billy　shaking

her　head　at　him　like　that。　　So　I　had　my　suspicions。　

One　of　Billy's　pet　charities？''



‘‘She　doesn't　call　it　that。''　　Arkwright's　face

and　voice　softened。　　‘‘It　is　Hillside。　　She　still

keeps　it　open。　　She　calls　it　the　Annex　to　her

home。　　She's　filled　it　with　a　crippled　woman；　a

poor　little　music　teacher；　a　lame　boy；　and　Aunt

Hannah。''



‘‘But　howextraordinary！''



‘‘She　doesn't　think　so。　　She　says　it's　just　an

overflow　house　for　the　extra　happiness　she　can't

use。''



There　was　a　moment's　silence。　　Calderwell　laid

down　his　cigar；　pulled　out　his　handkerchief；　and

blew　his　nose　furiously。　　Then　he　got　to　his　feet

and　walked　to　the　fireplace。　　After　a　minute　he

turned。



‘‘Well；　if　she　isn't　the　beat　'em！''　he　spluttered。　

‘‘And