McGUIRE ELLIS WAKES UP
On implication of the Highest Authority we have it that the leopardcannot change his spots. The Great American Pumess is a feline ofanother stripe. Stress of experience and emotion has been known tomodify sensibly her predatory characteristics. In the very beautifulspecimen of the genus which, from time to time, we have had occasion tostudy in these pages, there had taken place, in a few short months, analteration so considerable as to be almost revolutionary.
Many factors had contributed to the result. No woman of inherentfineness can live close to human suffering, as Esm?had lived in herslum work, without losing something of that centripetal self-concernwhich is the blemish of the present-day American girl. Constantassociation with such men as Hugh Merritt and Norman Hale, men who sawin her not a beautiful and worshipful maiden, but a useful agency in thework which made up their lives, gave her a new angle from which toconsider herself. Then, too, her brief engagement to Will Douglas hadsobered her. For Douglas, whatever his lack of independence andmanliness in his professional relations, had endured the jilting withquiet dignity. But he had suffered sharply, for he had been genuinely inlove with Esm? She felt his pain the more in that there was the sametooth gnawing at her own heart, though she would not acknowledge it toherself. And this taught her humility and consideration. The Pumess wasnot become a Saint, by any means. She still walked, a lovely peril toevery susceptible male heart. But she no longer thirsted withunquenchable ardor for conquests.
Meek though a reformed pumess may be, there are limits to meekness.When Miss Eleanor Stanley Maxwell Elliot woke up to find herselfpilloried as an enemy to society, in the very paper which she had triedto save, she experienced mingled emotions shot through with fierystreaks of wrath. Presently these simmered down to a residue of angryamazement and curiosity. If you have been accustomed all your life toregard yourself as an empress of absolute dominance over slavishmasculinity, and are suddenly subjected to a violent slap across theface from the hand of the most highly favored slave, some allowance isdue you of outraged sensibilities. Chiefly, however Esm?wondered WHY.WHY, in large capitals, and with an intensely ascendant inflection.
Her first impulse had been to telephone Hal a withering message. Moredeliberate thought suggested the wisdom of making sure of her ground,first. The result was a shock. From her still infuriated guardian shehad learned that, technically, she was the owner, with full moralresponsibility for the "Pest-Egg." The information came like a dash ofextremely cold water, which no pumess, reformed or otherwise, likes.Miss Elliot sat her down to a thoughtful consideration of the "Clarion."She found she was in good company. Several other bright and shininglights of the local firmament, social, financial, and commercial, sharedthe photographic notoriety. Slowly it was borne in upon her open mindthat she had not been singled out for reprehension; that she was simplya part of the news, as Hal regarded news--no, as the "Clarion" regardednews. That Hal would deliberately have let this happen, she declined tobelieve. Unconsciously she clung to her belief in the naturalinviolability of her privilege. It must have been a mistake. Hal wouldtell her so when he saw her. Yet if that were so, why had he sent word,the day after, that he couldn't keep his appointment? Would he come atall, now?
Doubt upon this point was ended when Dr. Elliot, admitted on thestrength of his profession to the typhus ward, and still exhibitingmottlings of wrath on his square face, had repeated his somewhatcensored account of his encounter with "that puppy." Esm?haughtilyadvised her dear Uncle Guardy that the "puppy" was her friend. UncleGuardy acidulously counseled his beloved Esm?not to be every species ofa mildly qualified idiot at one and the same time. Esm?elevated hernose in the air and marched out of the room to telephone Hal Surtaineforthwith. What she intended to telephone him (very distantly, ofcourse) was that her uncle had no authority to speak for her, that shewas quite capable of speaking for herself, and that she was ready tohear any explanation tending to mitigate his crime--not in those wordsprecisely, but in a tone perfectly indicative of her meaning.Furthermore, that the matter on which she had wished to speak to him wasa business matter, and that she would expect him to keep the brokenappointment later. None of which was ever transmitted. Fate, playing ther鬺e of Miching Mallecho, prevented once again. Hal was out.
In the course of time, Esm?s quarantine (a little accelerated, thoughnot at any risk of public safety) was lifted and she returned to theworld. The battle of hygiene vs. infection was now at its height. Esm?threw herself into the work, heart and soul. For weeks she did not seteyes on Hal Surtaine, except as they might pass on the street. Twice shenarrowly missed him at the hospital where she found time to make anoccasional visit to Ellis. A quick and lively friendship had sprung upbetween the spoiled beauty and the old soldier of the print-columns, andfrom him, as soon as he was convalescent, she learned something of thedeeper meanings of the "Clarion" fight and of the higher standards whichhad cost its owner so dear.
"I suppose," he said, "the hardest thing he ever had to do in his lifewas to print your picture."
"Did he have to print it?"
"Didn't he? It was news."
"And that's your god, isn't it, Mr. Mac?" said his visitor, smiling.
"It's only a small name for Truth. Good men have died for that."
"Or killed others for their ideal of it."
"Miss Esm?" said the invalid, "Hal Surtaine has had to face two tests.He had to show up his own father in his paper."
"Yes. I read it. But I've only begun to understand it since our talks."
"And he had to print that about you. Wayne told me he almost killed thestory himself to save Hal. 'I couldn't bear to look at the boy's facewhen he told me to run it,' Wayne said. And he's no sentimentalist.Newspapermen generally ain't."
"Aren't you?" said Esm? with a catch in her breath. "I should thinkyou were, pretty much, at the 'Clarion' office."
From that day she knew that she must talk it out with Hal. Yet at everythought of that encounter, her maidenhood shrank, affrighted, with asweet and tremulous fear. Inevitable as was the end, it might have beenlong postponed had it not been for a word that Ellis let drop the daywhen he left the hospital. Mrs. Festus Willard, out of friendship forHal, had insisted that the convalescent should come to her house untilhis strength was quite returned, instead of returning to his small andstuffy hotel quarters, and Esm?had come in her car to transfer him. Itwas the day after the Talk-It-Over Breakfast at which Hal had announcedthe prospective fall of the "Clarion."
"I'll be glad to get back to the office," said Ellis to Esm? "Theycertainly need me."
"You aren't fit yet," protested the girl.
"Fitter than the Boss. He's worrying himself sick."
"Isn't everything all right?"
"All wrong! It's this cussed Pierce libel case that's taking the heartout of him."
"Oh!" cried Esm? on a note of utter dismay. "Why didn't you tell me,Mr. Mac?"
"Tell you? What do you know about it?"
"Lots! Everything." She fell into silent thoughtfulness. "I supposedthat you had heard from Mr. Pierce, or his lawyer, at the office. Imust see Hal--Mr. Surtaine--now. Does he still come to see you?"
"Everyday."
"Send word to him to be at the Willards' at two to-morrow. And--and,please, Mr. Mac, don't tell him why."
"Now, what kind of a little game is this?" began Ellis, teasingly. "Am Ian amateur Cupid, or what's my cue?" He looked into the girl's face andsaw tears in the great brown eyes. "Hello!" he said with a change ofvoice. "What's wrong, Esm? I'm sorry."
"Oh, I'm wrong!" she cried. "I ought to have spoken long ago. No, no!I'm all right now!" She smiled gloriously through her tears. "Here weare. You'll be sure that he's there?"
"Fear not, but lean on Dollinger And he will fetch you through"--
quoted the other in oratorical assurance, and turned to Mrs. Willard'sgreeting.
At one-thirty on the following day, Mr. McGuire Ellis was where heshouldn't have been, asleep in a curtained alcove window-seat of the bigWillard library. At one minute past two he was where he should have beenstill less; that is, in the same place and condition. Now Mr. Ellis isnot only the readiest hair-trigger sleeper known to history, but he isalso one of the most profound and persistent. Entrances and exitsdisturb him not, nor does the human voice penetrate to the region ofhis dreams. To everything short of earthquake, explosion, or physicalcontact, his slumber is immune. Therefore he took no note when Miss Esm?Elliot came in, nor when, a moment later, Mr. Harrington Surtainearrived, unannounced. Nor, since he was thoroughly shut in by thedraperies, was either of them aware of his presence.
Esm?rose slowly to her feet as Hal entered. She had planned aleading-up to her subject, but at sight of him she was startled out ofany greeting, even.
"Oh, how thin you look, and tired!" she exclaimed.
"Strenuous days, these," he answered. "I didn't expect to see you here.Where's Ellis?"
"Upstairs. Don't go. I want to speak to you. Sit down there."
At her direction Hal drew up a chair. She took the corner of the loungenear by and regarded him silently from under puckered brows.
"Is it about Ellis?" said Hal, alarmed at her hesitation.
"No. It is about Mr. Pierce. There won't be any libel suit."
"What!"
"No." She shook her head in reassurance of his evident incredulity."You've nothing to worry about, there."
"How can you know?"
"From Kathie."
"Did her father tell her?"
"She told her father. There's a dreadful quarrel."
"I don't understand at all."
"Kathie absolutely refuses to testify for her father. She says that theaccident was her own fault, and if there's a trial she will tell thetruth."
Before she had finished, Hal was on his feet. Her heart smote her as shesaw the gray worry pass from his face and his shoulders square as fromthe relief of a burden lifted, "Has it lain so heavy on your mind?" sheasked pitifully.
"If you knew!" He walked half the length of the long room, then turnedabruptly. "You did that," he said. "You persuaded her."
"No. I didn't, indeed."
The eager light faded in his face. "Of course not. Why should youafter--Do you mind telling me how it happened?"
"It isn't my secret. But--but she has come to care very much for someone, and it is his influence."
"Wonderful!" He laughed boyishly. "I want to go out and run around andhowl. Would you mind joining me in the college yell? Does Mac know?"
"Nobody knows but you."
"That's why Pierce kept postponing. And I, living under the shadow ofthis! How can I thank you!"
"Don't thank me," she said with an effort. "I--I've known it for weeks.I meant to tell you long ago, but I thought you'd have learned it beforenow--and--and it was made hard for me."
"Was that what you had to tell me about the paper, when you asked me tocome to see you?"
She nodded.
"But how could I come?" he burst out. "I suppose there's no use--I mustgo and tell Mac about this."
"Wait," she said.
He stopped, gazing at her doubtfully.
"I'm tearing down the tenement at Number 9."
"Tearing it down?"
"As a confession that--that you were right. But I didn't know I ownedit. Truly I didn't. You'll believe that, won't you?"
"Of course," he cried eagerly. "I did know it, but too late."
"If you'd known in time would you have--"
"Left that out of the paper?" he finished, all the life gone from hisvoice. "No, Esm? I couldn't have done that. But I could have said inthe paper that you didn't know."
"I thought so," she said very quietly.
He misinterpreted this. "I can't lie to you, Esm?" he said with a sadsincerity. "I've lived with lies too long. I can't do it, not for anyhope of happiness. Do I seem false and disloyal to you? Sometimes I doto myself. I can't help it. All a man can do is to follow his own light.Or a woman either, I suppose. And your light and mine are worlds apart."
Again, with a stab of memory, he saw that desperate smile on her lips.Then she spoke with the clear courage of her new-found womanliness.
"There is no light for me where you are not."
He took a swift step toward her. And at the call, sweetly andstraightly, she came to meet his arms and lips.
"Poor boy!" she said, a few minutes later, pushing a lock of hair fromhis forehead. "I've let you carry that burden when a word from me wouldhave lifted it."
"Has there ever been such a thing as unhappiness in the world,sweetheart?" he said. "I can't remember it. So I don't believe it."
"I'm afraid I've cost you more than I can ever repay you for," she said."Hal, tell me I've been a little beast!--Oh, no! That's no way to tellit. Aren't you sorry, sir, that you ever saw this room?"
"Finest example of interior architecture I know of. Exact replica of theplumb center of Paradise."
"It's where all your troubles began. You first met me here in this veryroom."
"Oh, no! My troubles began from the minute I set eyes on you, that dayat the station."
"Don't contradict me." She laid an admonitory finger on his lips, then,catching at his hand, gently drew him with her. "Right in that verywindow-seat there--" She whisked the hangings aside, and brushed McGuireEllis's nose in so doing.
"Hoong!" snorted McGuire Ellis.
"Oh!" cried Esm? "Were you there all the time? We--I--didn't know--Haveyou been asleep?"
"I have been just that," replied the dormant one, yawning.
"I hope we haven't disturbed--" began Esm?in the same breath with Hal'sawkward "Sorry we waked you up, Mac."
"Don't be--" Ellis checked his familiar growl, looked with growingsuspicion from Esm?s flushed loveliness to Hal's self consciousconfusion, leaped to his feet, gathered the pair into a sudden, violent,impartial embrace, and roared out:--
"Go ahead! Be young! You can only be it once in a lifetime."