She would always know hereafter how it felt to be one of those favored ones down here. She was having her taste of the delights of luxury, and she would enjoy concerts all the more after having this broader view of life.
Sitting thus with the crimson background, the crimson roses against the soft tan of her dress, Marion was beautiful. Isabel Cresson, on the other side of the house in a gloomy proscenium box, attended by her aunt, was unable to recognize her. There was nothing about her costume that could be criticized. It had the stamp of a foreign maker just because the owner had caught the cunning of the great originators of her models.
Isabel was baffled by the sight and much disquieted within her. She studied the other girl again and again through the afternoon; but not once did she dream that she was the plain, despised Marion Warren, sitting in the seat of the mighty and looking as lovely as one of them. She tried once to signal Lyman to bring his friend around to meet her; but he did not seem to see her, and she had to solace herself with watching his devotion to his beautiful companion.
From the moment when the great pianist came to the platform until the last lingering note of the last encore was over, and the last bow was received with
jubilant applause, Marion was utterly unconscious of self. The strong, fine personality of the musician, which seemed to fill the great auditorium and dominate every being in it from the moment of his entrance, charmed her.
Marion's heart swelled with wonder at the miracle of the music. No player or players, no singer or instrument, had ever affected her quite as this great man did.
She listened with her soul in her eyes as the master fingers struck the keys, and the instrument responded as if it were glad of the hand that touched it. The music seemed to drip from his finger-tips like liquid jewels flashing as they fell. The young untaught girl drank it in most eagerly, forgetting everything besides; and the man who had brought her forgot to listen in watching her keen delight. The great master of the keys might be at his best, and at another time this man would have rejoiced in it; but to-day the music was but a lovely setting for his love, which shone like priceless pearls amidst it all.
After the programme w^as over they called the pianist back, seven, eight times; and each time he played again as if he could not bear to deny them the gift to which they had accorded so great applause. When at last he was gone, and the reluctant audi-
ence came down to earth again and began to pick up their belongings. Marion turned to her companion with a radiant face and a sigh of ecstasy.
"Oh, it has been like being in heaven for a little while and hearing someone who had learned of God."
"Perhaps he has," said Lyman reverently. "It seems as if no other man could so nearly reach our ideals of the heavenly music."
"I shall remember it always," said the girl, her eyes shining like two stars.
Then suddenly, as they passed from the hall into the thronged street, she realized that it was over, and her task-time had come.
She must tell him. But all the simple speech she had fashioned took flight, and left her trembling so that she tottered as she went down the wide stone steps to the pavement; Lyman put out his hand, and steadied her courteously.
"You have no call to hurry home, have you?" he said. "Suppose we go somewhere and have dinner together. I always like to talk it out after hearing a concert like that, and I want to know your impressions."
"That would be beautiful," she said wistfully; "but I oughtn't to. I must go right home, I think."
Because he had very much set his heart upon
this little dinner together, and would be greatly disappointed not to have it, he urged her.
"Oh, why? Is someone expecting you? Have you promised?"
"Oh, no!" she answered quickly. "No, there is no one, but "
"But what? Can't you give me this little pleasure? I had quite counted on it, you see—but perhaps I should have told you beforehand. Of course, if it isn't convenient "
"Oh, no!" she said desperately. "It's not anything like that, and it's very kind of you to ask me, and to say it would be a pleasure to you; but '*
"Well, it would be a pleasure, a great, big pleasure," he said pointedly; and she felt that there was something more than ordinary feeling behind the words. Then she plunged blindly in.
"It's just that I felt that I have been having too good a time lately, and I must stop it, or I shall be spoiled. You see I'm not used to many good times, and I might get very much discontented with my life." She stumbled along, hardly knowing what she was saying; and he smiled indulgently down into her face, and drew her arm gently within his own in a protecting way as they came to the street-crossing, guiding her skilfully between the crowding impatient motor-cars that were huddled in the street
"I'd like a chance to spoil you a little," he said, and his voice was very tender. The glance of his eyes even in the electric glow of the street made her heart stand still, as if she looked into a mighty joy upon which she must herself shut the door.
"Oh, but you don't understand!" she said desperately. "It's very kind and nice, and it's been so beautiful, but I ought to have told you before. I
ought not to have let you think " She paused,
unable to find words; and another congested street-crossing interrupted their conversation for a moment. She never noticed that he was guiding her steps toward the region of the better class of downtown tea-rooms and restaurants. She was not familiar with these places, and would never have thought of it if she had noticed.
"Let me think what, please?" he asked gravely when they were safe on the other side of the street. His own heart was beating hard now. Was she going to tell him that she had a lover somewhere struggling to earn enough for her support, and that she could not accept his attentions any longer? His hand trembled as he laid it upon her little gloved one that rested on his arm so lightly.
"I have let you think I'm just like those other g^rls you know."
"Oh, you're mistaken about that," he answered
quickly. "I never thought you were like them. Thank God you are not. If you had been, I should not have cared to have your company. You knew that the first night at the church reception."
"Oh, that is not it, either," she said desperately. It seemed so very hard to make him understand. And she felt a great sob swelling up through her throat. What should she do when it arrived?
*Xook here," he said, and his voice was very peremptory; "tell me this." He paused at the cor^ ner, and detained her a little out of the crowd of passers. "Just tell me this one thing. Do you belong to someone else? Is there any reason why it is not right for you to go with me to-night ?*•
"Oh, no," she gasped, almost laughing, "there isn't anyone at all. I don't belong to anyone in the whole wide world any more, and there's nobody belongs to me except my brother Tom and his family; but they have each other, and they haven't time to think about me. I certainly am making a terrible mess of telling you, and you will think I am very stupid to make so much out of it all; only I've enjoyed it so much, and I knew I ought to explain it for your sake."
"There!" said Lyman, laughing joyously, and drawing her onward again. "There; don't say another word about it till we've had something to eat.
If there isn't anyone else, I'm sure what you have to say won't matter in the least. Anyway, it can wait until we're out of the crowd."
He guided her carefully through the maze of people hurrying hither and yon away from business or pleasure to their homes and dinners. All the time his strong, firm hand was held close over her little, trembling one, steadying and seeming to want to comfort and reassure her; and in a moment more he )ed her into a great, brilliant room lined with palms and set with little tables where snowy linen, glittering glass and silver, and delicate china glowed under the warm light of rosy candle-shades. Low-voiced men and women were seated here and there conversing while a sweet-stringed orchestra, concealed, somewhere not too near by, sent forth delicious sounds like some sweet, subtle perfume fil
ling the air.
He seated her at one of the little tables in a far corner, where a screen of palm half hid them from the room and yet revealed its beauties to them. She felt as if she were suddenly plunged into a wonderful fairy-land where she had no right to be, yet could not get away. Delight and distress were struggling for the mastery in her face, and the pretty color came and went, making her more vividly beautiful than he had ever seen her yet. He looked at her vrits?
deep satisfaction and admiration as he hung up his coat and seated himself opposite to her.
"I wonder what you like," he said, smiling, **May I try and see if I can please you?"
"Oh, anything!" she said, embarrassed. What would he think of her way of ordering, always looking at the figures in the right-hand column of the menu first to pick out the cheapest viands, and then choosing from those?
With the ease of one accustomed, Lyman took up the menu, and, running down the list, in a low voice rapidly mentioned what he wanted to the deferential waiter, who seemed to understand at once, and vanished, leaving them alone.
''Now," said Lyman, "If you will feel better to tell me at once, I will listen. What is it that you thought I ought to know?" His kindly eyes were upon her, and the color flamed into her cheeks until they rivalled the roses at her breast.
"I think you ought to knov/ that I am a very poor girl, who have to earn my own living— and——" She paused for more words.
"I surmised as much," said he; "did you think I was mercenary, that I had to choose my friends from among wealthy people only?"
"Oh, no," she said in great distress. "You do not understand yet! I am not only poor, but I am
uneducated. I have had very few opportunities. I have never been to college All those other girls have."
He laughed.
''Why, I have been to college myself; and I'm not so sure that I'm much better off for it, either. The fact is, I fooled much of my time away in college, and learned more outside afterwards. I hadn't learned what college was for before I went, perhaps. As for those other girls, I doubt if Isabel Cresson is the wiser for her college course. I myself heard her tell a woman, a friend of mine, that all she went for was to get into the sororities. She could not possibly have enjoyed that music as you did this afternoon."
But Marion was struggling with her task. How could she overcome his great kindness and make plain to him what she meant?
" Thank you," she said gently; *' but there is
something she has which I have not, and which must
always be a great lack in the eyes of everybody.
She comes of a fine old family, and she has culture
and refinement behind her. She is used to going
among people. She knows how to move and speak
and act. My father was a plain mechanic. He
worked in the Houghton Locomotive Works. We
were not so very poor while he lived, because he 16
earned good wages. He meant to give me a good education. That was what he wanted above everything else, but he died before he was able to accomplish it. He was only a mechanic, but he was a good
man and a dear father "
*' I know," said Lyman gently. " He had the accident from which he died through doing a kindness for another man who was in trouble. I have stood beside his own machine at Houghton's and heard the foreman tell the whole story. He described the scene when your father was found hurt, and they were about to take him home. He said there wasn't a dry eye in the room. He said that for days afterward the men kept coming to him and telling him of little things that Mr. Warren had done for them. Some told how he'd followed them into a saloon and persuaded them to come out, how he'd stayed with them and walked out of his way night after night to go home with them and get them safely by temptation till they were strong enough to go alone. Some told how he'd stayed after hours and done their work when their wives or children were sick, and they needed to be away from the shop; and one man told how your father divided his pay with him for weeks when he was getting over an operation and could work only half-time. You are mistaken. Miss Warren; your father was a gentle-
man, and yours was a royal family if there ever was one. Do you know how Miss Cresson's father died ? It was in a drunken row in some fine banquet-hall, and, before he died he had killed another man. Perhaps she is not so much to blame for being what she is with such a father, but tell me, which is the fine old family, yours or hers? I should prefer yours."
CHAPTER XIV
The tears had come now in spite of all Marion's struggles, though they were happy tears, and she tried to hurry them away with smiles.
" Oh," she said, " how beautiful of you, how beautiful to say that about my dear father! I knew he was all that and a great deal more, too, but I thought—I thought you would not count "
'* You thought that I was a snob," he said, smiling.
'' Oh, no!'" she said aghast. " Oh, no I I never thought that."
" Yes, yes, you did. There's no use in denying it. You thought, because I had enjoyed advantages that had not been yours that I would count those advantages greater than all other noble things in earth, and that I would despise you when I knew that you had been without them. Isn't that so? "
" No, not that exactly," she said with troubled look. " It was just that I thought you did not know, and that, when you found out, you would think I had not been honest with you to let you put yourself in that light before people. Isabel Cresson and all those girls know who I am. They probably thought it verv strangle of vou to sit and talk with me when
they were near by, and when they knew that I was such an insignificant Httle thing. It was not that I did not think you nobfe enough to be kind to me, even if you did know about me; but I was not one you would be hkely to pick out for a friend, I knew, and I felt that I must make you understand it at once. It has troubled me all the week that I did not tell you last Saturday evening, but I did so want to
go to-day—just this once more before—before "
she stopped in dismay, and knew not what to say.
"Before what?" he asked, watching her with gentle indulgence in his eyes.
" Why, before it ended," she finished bravely with scarlet cheeks.
" Then you thought I would drop you as soon as I knew? "
** Why, I supposed—that would be the end," she answered lamely.
" Answer me truly, and look right in my eyes," he insisted teasingly. *' Did you really think I would drop you as soon as I knew ? Please look up while you answer. You can't possibly deceive yourself into saying the wrong thing while you're looking at me, you know."
She raised her eyes in beautiful embarrassment to his, and wavered under his steady gaze.
" I thought—you— ought to."
" You thought I ought?" he laughed merrily. " Ah! Now, then, the question just once more; and please, if you don't mind, look up again for a minute. Did you really think I would drop you? "
" I " there was a long pause, and then the
eyes dropped in deep embarrassment—** I do not— know," she finished.
" Ah! Then you will admit just a little doubt of my criminality?" The troubled eyes gave him one beautiful look of reproach, and then the long lashes drooped on the crimson cheeks.
" Forgive me! " he said quickly. " I did not mean to tease you. I am sorry. I only wanted to be sure whether you thought me that kind of a fellow or not. Now let me assure you that I do not intend to drop you in the least. If there's any dropping, it will have to be done by you and not me. By the way, have you any idea where I first saw you?"
His ordinary tone reassured her, and she lifted her gaze once more shyly, the light coming into her eyes at the remembrance.
•^Oh, yes, I shall never forget that, it was at the church. Mr. Radnor introduced you. I thought it so kind of him, because nobody else ever noticed me much. Mr. Radnor appreciated father a little, I think."
** He did, yes. Fm sure he did from some things he said to me," sai
d Lyman thoughtfully; then, frowning slightly at the memory of some other things Mr. Radnor had said; ** but I don't think he appreciates his daughter as much as I do. He has never got well enough acquainted. Some day I hope he will."
Marion smiled.
*' I don't suppose he'll ever see enough of me to know more than he does now about me. He is a very busy man, and I'm quite inconspicuous."
She spoke with a sweet humility, and the young man thought how very lovely she looked as she said it.
" Time changes all things," said Lyman, smJling. " You might find the order reversed, and Mr. Radnor may one day find you conspicuous enough on his horizon to warrant the time for appreciation. However, just at present I don't care much, do you? I prefer to appreciate you myself. And, by the way, you're all off about where I first saw you. I did not see you that night for the first time, by any means."
" Oh, you mean at the store when you bought the ribbon roses," she said. "Of course! How stupid of me! But I felt you did not recognize me then."
"Oh, but I did," he said; "but that wasn't the
first time, either. I had seen you on several differeni occasions before that, besides once when I couldn't see you very well."
" Oh, what can you possibly mean ? " she said, looking at him with such an air of utter bewilderment, as if her world had suddenly turned upside down, that he laughed joyfully again; and the deferential waiter, appearing just then to serve the first course, was relieved to see that his delay had not been noticed.
Marion sat wondering and watching while the waiter served them, laying so carefully before her the delicate china, heavy silver, and crystal as if she were a queen. How did it come that all this beauty and honor were for her even for a night? She could not understand it; and, looking up at the man across the table, she found her answer in his eyes, and her own drooped once more, while her heart beat rapid, joyous time in tune with the orchestra.
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