by Jack Steele
CHAPTER III
TWO ENCOUNTERS
Garrison roomed in Forty-fourth Street, where he occupied a small,second-story apartment. His meals he procured at various restaurantswhere fancy chanced to lead.
To-night a certain eagerness for adventure possessed his being.
More than anything else in the world he wished to see Dorothy again; hehardly dared confess why, but told himself that she was charming--andhis nature demanded excitement.
He dined well and leisurely, bought a box of chocolates to present tohis new-found "wife," dressed himself with exceptional care, and atlength took an uptown train for his destination.
All the way on the cars he was thinking of the task he had undertakento perform. Not without certain phases of amusement, he rehearsed hispart, and made up his mind to leave nothing of the role neglected.
Arrived in the West Side street, close to the house which should havebeen Dorothy's, he discovered that the numbering on the doors had beenwretchedly mismanaged. One or the other of two brownstone fronts mustbe her residence; he could not determine which. The nearest waslighted from top to bottom. In the other a single pair of windowsonly, on the second floor, showed the slightest sign of life.
Resolved to be equal to anything the adventure might require, hemounted the steps of the lighted dwelling and rang the bell. He wasalmost immediately admitted by a serving-man, who appeared a triflesurprised to behold him, but who bowed him in as if he were expected,with much formality and deference.
"What shall I call you?" he said.
Garrison was surprised, but he announced:
"Just Mr. Jerold."
A second door was opened; a gush of perfumed air, a chorus of gay youngvoices, and a peal of laughter greeted Garrison's ears as the servantcalled out his name.
Instantly a troop of brilliantly dressed young women came running fromthe nearest room, all in fancy costume and all of them masked.Evidently a fancy-dress party was about to begin in the house.Garrison realized his blunder.
Before he could move, a stunning, superbly gowned girl, with bare neckand shoulders that were the absolute perfection of beauty, came boldlyup to where the visitor stood. The others had ceased their laughter.
"Jerold!--how good of you to come!" said the girl, and, boldly pattinghis face with her hand, she quickly darted from him, while the otherslaughed with glee.
Garrison was sure he had never seen her before. Indeed, he hadscarcely had time to note anything about her, save that on her neck shewore two necklaces--one of diamonds, the other of pearls, and both ofwonderful gems.
Then out from the room from which she had come stepped a man appareledas Satan--in red from top to toe. He, too, was in mask. He joined inthe laughter with the others.
Garrison "found himself" with admirable presence of mind.
"My one regret is that I may not remain," he said, with a bow to theladies. "I might also regret having entered the wrong house, but yourreception renders such an emotion impossible."
He bowed himself out with commendable grace, and the bold masqueraderthrew kisses as he went. Amused, quite as much as annoyed, at hisblunder, he made himself ready as best he might for another adventure,climbed the steps of the dwelling next at hand, and once more rang thebell.
Almost immediately the dark hall was lighted by the switching on oflights. Then the door was opened, and Garrison beheld a squint-eyed,thin-lipped old man, who scowled upon him and remained there, barringhis way.
"Good evening--is my wife at home--Mrs. Fairfax?" said Garrison,stepping in. "I wired her----"
"Jerold!" cried a voice, as the girl in the party-house had done. Butthis was Dorothy, half-way down the stairs, running toward him eagerly,and dressed in most exquisite taste.
Briskly stepping forward, ready with the role he had rehearsed, hecaught her in his arms as she came to the bottom of the stairs, and shekissed him like a sweet young wife, obeying the impulse of her nature.
"Oh, Jerold, I'm so glad!" she said. "I don't see why you have to goaway at nine!"
She was radiant with blushes.
He recognized a cue.
"And how's the dearest little girl in all the world?" he said, handingher the box of confections. "I didn't think I'd be able to make it,till I wired. While this bit of important business lasts we must dothe best we can."
He had thrown his arm about her carelessly. She moved away with anatural gesture towards the man who had opened the door.
"Oh, Jerold, this is my Uncle Sykey--Mr. Robinson," she said. "He andAunt Jill have come to pay me a visit. We must all go upstairs to theparlor."
She was pale with excitement, but her acting was perfect.
Garrison turned to the narrow-eyed old man, who was scowling darklyupon him.
"I'm delighted to meet you," he said, extending his hand.
"Um! Thank you," said Robinson, refusing his hand. "Extraordinaryhoneymoon you're giving my niece, Mr. Fairfax."
His manner nettled Garrison, who could not possibly have gauged thedepth of the old man's dislike, even hatred, conceived against himsimply as Dorothy's husband.
A greeting so utterly uncordial made unlooked-for demands upon his wits.
"The present arrangement will not endure very long," he saidsignificantly. "In the meantime, if Dorothy is satisfied there seemsto be no occasion for anyone else to feel distressed."
"If that's intended as a fling at me----" started Robinson, but Dorothyinterrupted.
"Please come upstairs," she said, laying her hand for a moment onGarrison's shoulder; and then she ran up lightly, looking back with allthe smiles of perfect art.
Garrison read it as an invitation to a private confidence, much neededto put him properly on guard. He bounded up as if in hot pursuit,leaving her uncle down there by the door.
She fled to the end of the upper hall, near a door that was closed.Garrison had lost no space behind her. She turned a white, tense faceas she came to a halt.
"Be careful, please," she whispered. "Some of my relatives appearedhere unexpectedly this afternoon. I had to wire on that account. Getaway just as soon as you can. You are merely passing through the city.You must write me daily letters while they are here--and--don't forgetwho you are supposed to be!"
She was radiant again with blushes. Garrison was almost dazzled by herbeauty. What reply he might have made was interrupted. Dorothy caughthim by the hand, like a fond young bride, as her uncle came rapidly upthe stairs. The door was opened at his elbow by a white-haired, almost"bearded" woman, large, sharp-sighted, and ugly, with many signs ofboth inquisitiveness and acquisitiveness upon her.
"So, that's your Mr. Fairfax," she said to Dorothy. "Come in here tillI see what you're like."
Dorothy had again taken Garrison's arm. She led him forward.
"This is Aunt Jill," she said, by way of introduction and explanation."Aunty, this is my husband, Jerold."
Aunt Jill had backed away from the door to let them enter. Garrisonrealized at once that Dorothy's marriage had excited much antagonism inthe breasts of both these relatives. A sudden accession of boldnesscame upon him, in his plan to protect the girl. He entered the roomand faced the woman calmly.
"I'm glad to meet you," he said, this time without extending his hand."I beg to impress upon both you and Mr. Robinson that, such as I am,Dorothy chose me of her own free will to occupy my present position."
Mrs. Robinson was momentarily speechless. Her husband now stood in thedoor.
Dorothy shot Garrison a look of gratitude, but her immediate desire wasfor peace.
"Let us all sit down, and try to get better acquainted," she said."I'm sure we shall all be friends."
"No doubt," said her uncle somewhat offensively.
Garrison felt himself decidedly uncertain of his ground. There wasnothing to do, however, but await developments. He looked about theroom in a quick, comprehensive manner.
It was a large apartment, furnished handsomely, perhaps even r
ichly,but in a style no longer modern, save for the installation of electriclights. It contained a piano, a fireplace, a cabinet, writing-desk,two settees, and the customary complement of chairs.
The pictures on the walls were rather above the average, even in thehomes of the wealthy. The objects of art, disposed in suitable places,were all in good taste and expensive.
Quite at a loss to meet these people to advantage, uninformed as he wasof anything vital concerning Dorothy and the game she might be playing,Garrison was rendered particularly alert by the feeling of constraintin the air. He had instantly conceived a high appreciation forDorothy's art in her difficult position, and he rose to a comprehensionof the role assigned to himself.
He had earlier determined to appear affectionate; he now saw the needof enacting the part of protector.
In the full illumination of the room, the glory of Dorothy's beauty wasstartling. His eyes sought her face with no need of acting, and theadmiration blazing in his gaze was more than genuine; it was thoroughlyspontaneous and involuntary.
The moment was awkward and fraught with suspense for Garrison, as hefound himself subjected to the flagrantly unfriendly appraisement ofhis newly acquired relations.
Aunt Jill had been wilted for a moment only. She looked their visitorover with undisguised contempt.
"Well, I dare say you _look_ respectable and healthy," she said, as ifconceding a point with no little reluctance, "but appearances are verydeceiving."
"Thank you," said Garrison. He sat down near Dorothy, occupying asmall settee.
If Mrs. Robinson was personally pugnacious, her husband harbored farmore vicious emotions. Garrison felt this in his manner. The man waslooking at him narrowly.
"How much of your time have you spent with your wife since yourmarriage?" he demanded, without the slightest preliminary introductionto the subject.
Garrison realized at once that Dorothy might have prepared a harmlessfiction with which his answers might not correspond. He assumed a calmand deliberation he was far from feeling, as he said:
"I was not aware that I should be obliged to account to anyone saveDorothy for my goings and comings. Up to the present I believe she hasbeen quite well satisfied with my deportment; haven't you, Dorothy?"
"Perfectly," said Dorothy, whose utterance was perhaps a trifle faint."Can't we all be friends--and talk about----"
"I prefer to talk about this for a moment," interrupted her uncle,still regarding Garrison with the closest scrutiny. "What's yourbusiness, anyway, Mr. Fairfax?"
Garrison, adhering to a policy of telling the truth with the greatestpossible frequency, and aware that evasion would avail them nothing,waited the fraction of a minute for Dorothy to speak. She was silent.He felt she had not committed herself or him upon the subject.
"I am engaged at present in some insurance business," he said. "Itwill take me out of town to-night, and keep me away for a somewhatindefinite period."
"H'm!" said Mr. Robinson. "I suppose you'll quit your presentemployment pretty soon?"
With no possible chance of comprehending the drift of inquiry, Garrisonresponded:
"Possibly."
"I thought so!" exclaimed the old man, with unconcealed asperity."Marrying for money is much more remunerative, hey?"
"Oh, uncle!" said Dorothy. Her pain and surprise were quite genuine.
Garrison colored instantly.
He might have been hopelessly floundering in a moment had not a naturalindignation risen in his blood.
"Please remember that up to this evening you and I have been absolutestrangers," he said, with some heat. "I am not the kind to marry formoney. Had I done so I should not continue in my present calling for avery modest compensation."
He felt that Dorothy might misunderstand or even doubt his resolutionto go on with her requirements. He added pointedly:
"I have undertaken certain assignments for my present employers which Imean to put through to the end, and no one aware of my motives couldcharge me with anything sordid."
Dorothy rose, crossed the space between her chair and the small setteewhere Garrison was seated, took the place at his side, and shyly laidher hand upon his own. It was a natural, wifely thing to do. Garrisonrecognized her perfect acting. A tingle of strange, lawless joy ranthrough his veins; nevertheless, he still faced Robinson, for his angerhad been no pretense.
There was something in his bearing, when aroused, that invited caution.He was not a man with whom to trifle. Mrs. Robinson, having felt itbefore, underwent the experience anew.
"Let's not start off with a row," she said. "No one means to offendyou, Mr. Fairfax."
"What do you think he'll do?" demanded her husband. "Order us out ofthe house? It ain't his yet, and he knows it."
Garrison knew nothing concerning the ownership of the house. Mr.Robinson's observation gave him a hint, however, that Dorothy'shusband, or Dorothy herself, would presumably own this dwelling soon,but that something had occurred to delay the actual possession.
"I came to see Dorothy, and for no other purpose," he said. "I haven'tthe slightest desire or intention to offend her relatives."
If Robinson and his wife understood the hint that he would be pleasedto see Dorothy alone, they failed to act upon it.
"We'll take your future operations as our guide," said Mr. Robinsonsignificantly. "Protestations cost nothing."
Mrs. Robinson, far more shrewd than her husband, in her way, had begunto realize that Garrison was not a man either to be frightened orbullied.
"I'm sure we shall all be friends," she said. "What's the use offighting? If, as Mr. Fairfax says, he did not marry Dorothy formoney----"
Her husband interrupted. "I don't believe it! Will you tell me, Mr.Fairfax, that when you married my niece you were not aware of herprospects?"
"I knew absolutely nothing of her prospects," said Garrison, whothought he foresaw some money struggle impending. "She can tell youthat up to the present moment I have never asked her a word concerningher financial status or future expectations."
"Why don't you tell us you never knew she had an uncle?" demandedRobinson, with no abatement of acidity.
"As a matter of fact," replied Garrison, "I have never known the nameof any of Dorothy's relations till to-night."
"This is absurd!" cried the aggravated Mr. Robinson. "Do you mean totell me----"
Garrison cut in upon him with genuine warmth. He was fencing blindlyin Dorothy's behalf, and instinct was guiding him with remarkableprecision.
"I should think you might understand," he said, "that once in a while ayoung woman, with a natural desire to be esteemed for herself alone,might purposely avoid all mention both of her relatives and prospects."
"We've all heard about these marriages for love," sneered Dorothy'suncle. "Where did you suppose she got this house?"
Garrison grew bolder as he felt a certain confidence that so far he hadmade no particular blunders. His knowledge of the value of half atruth, or even the truth entire, was intuitive.
"I have never been in this house before tonight," he said. "Our'honeymoon,' as you called it earlier, has, as you know, been brief,and none of it was spent beneath this roof."
"Then how did you know where to come?" demanded Mr. Robinson.
"Dorothy supplied me the address," answered Garrison. "It is notuncommon, I believe, for husband and wife to correspond."
"Well, here we are, and here we'll stay," said Mr. Robinson, "till thewill and all the business is settled. Perhaps you'll say you didn'teven know there was a will."
Garrison was beginning to see light, dimly. What it was that laybehind Dorothy's intentions and her scheme he could not know; he wasonly aware that to-night, stealing a glance at her sweet but worriedface, and realizing faintly that she was greatly beset with troubles,his whole heart entered the conflict, willingly, to help her through tothe end.
"You are right for once," he answered his inquisitor. "I have knownabsolutely nothing of any w
ill affecting Dorothy, and I know nothingnow. I only know you can rely upon me to fight her battles to the fullextent of my ability and strength."
"What nonsense! You don't know!" exclaimed Mr. Robinson. "Why----"
"It's the truth," interrupted Dorothy. "I have told him nothing aboutit."
"I don't believe it!" said her uncle. "But whatever he knows, I'lltell him this, that I propose to fight that will, day and night, beforemy brother's property shall go to any scheming stranger!"
Garrison felt the need for enlightenment. It was hardly fair to expecthim to struggle in the dark. He looked at his watch ostentatiously.
"I did not come here expecting this sort of reception," he saidtruthfully. "I hoped at least for a few minutes' time with Dorothy,alone."
"To cook up further stories, I presume," said Mr. Robinson, who made nomove to depart.
Garrison rose and approached Mr. Robinson precisely as he might havedone had his right been more than a fiction.
"Do you require Dorothy to go down in the hall, in her own house, toobtain a moment of privacy?" he demanded. "We might as well understandthe situation first as last."
It was a half-frightened look, full of craft and hatred, that Robinsoncast upward to his face. He fidgeted, then rose from his seat.
"Come, my dear," he said to his wife, "the persecutions have commenced."
He led the way from the room to another apartment, his wife obedientlyfollowing at his heels. The door they left ajar.