CHAPTER VIII--DAN'S SIMPLICITY
The Duchess of Breakwater was not sure how close Dan Blair's thoughtswere to marriage, but the boy from Montana was the easiest prey that hadcome across the beautiful and unscrupulous woman's range. He had toldher that he stayed on up in London to see a man from home, and whenafter four days he still lingered in town, she found his absenceunbearable, and sent him a wire so worded that if he had a spark ofinterest in her he must immediately return to the Park. She had neverbeen more lovely than when Dan found her waiting for him.
She had ordered tea in her sitting-room. She told him that he lookedfrightfully seedy, asked him what he had been doing and why he hadstopped so long away, and Blair told her that old Ruggles, his father'sfriend, had run over to see him with a lot of papers for Dan to read andsign and closed with a smile, telling her that he guessed she "didn'tknow much about business."
"I only know the horrid things of business--debts, and loans, and bills,and fussing."
"Those things are not business," Dan answered wisely; "they are justcommon or garden carelessness."
She asked him why he had not brought Ruggles out to Osdene, and he toldher he couldn't have done a stroke of work with the old boy down here atthe Park.
Stirring his tea, he appreciated the duchess. The agreeable picture shemade impressed him mightily.
"Do you know," he asked suddenly, "what you make me think of?"
And she responded softly: "No, dear."
"A box of candy. This room with its stuffed walls, and you in it aregood enough--"
"To eat?" she laughed aloud. "Oh, you perfectly killing creature, whatan idea!"
And as he met her eyes with his clear ones, with a simplicity she couldnever hope to reach, he put his tea-cup down; and as he did so theduchess observed his strong hands, their vigor, well-kept and muscular,but not the dandified hands of the man who goes often to the manicure.
"If it hadn't been for one thing," the boy went on, "I would havethought of nothing else but you, every minute I've been away."
"Mr. Ruggles?" suggested the duchess.
"No, the Gaiety girl, Letty Lane. You know I told you in the box thatshe was from my town."
The young man, who had flown back to Osdene Park in answer to atelegram, began to take his companion into his confidence.
"I knew that girl," Dan said, "when she wasn't more than fourteen. Shesold me soda-water over the drug store counter. I always thought she wasbully, bright as a button and pretty as a peach. Once, I remember, Itook six chocolate sodas in one day just to go in and see her. I had anawful time. I most died of that jag, and yet," he said meditatively, "Idon't think I ever spoke three words to her, just said 'sarsaparilla' or'chocolate' or whatever it might happen to be. Ever since that day, eversince that jag," he said with feeling, "I couldn't _see_ a stick ofchocolate and keep my head up! Well," went on the boy, "Sarah Towneysang in our church for a missionary meeting, and I was there. I canremember the song she sang." He spoke with unconscious ardor. He didn'trefer to the hymn, however, but went on with his narrative. "Shedisappeared from Blairtown. I never had a peep at her again until theother night. Gosh!" he said fervently, "when I saw her there on thestage, why, I felt as though cold water was running up and down myspine."
The duchess, as a rule, was amused by his slang. It seemed vulgar to hernow.
"Heavens," she drawled, "you are really too dreadful!"
He didn't seem to hear her.
"She's turned out a perfect wonder, hasn't she? A world-beater! Why,everybody tells me there isn't another like her in her specialty. Ofcourse I have heard of Letty Lane, but I haven't been out to thingssince I went in mourning, and I've never run up against her."
"Really," drawled the duchess again, "now that you have 'run up againsther' what are you going to do with her? Marry her?"
His honest stare was the greatest relief she had ever experienced. Herepeated bluntly: "Marry her? Why the dickens should I?"
"You seem absorbed in her."
He agreed with her. "I am. I think she's great, don't you?"
"Hardly."
But the cold voice of the duchess did not chill him. "Simply great," hecontinued, "and I'm sorry for her down to the ground. That is what isthe matter. Didn't you notice her when she came into the Carlton thatnight?"
"What of it, silly? I thought she looked as thin as a shad in that blackdress, and the way Poniotowsky goes about with her proves what an ass heis."
"Well, I hate him," Blair simply stated; "I would wring his neck fortwenty cents. But she's very ill; that is what is the matter with her."
"They all look like that off the stage," the duchess assuredindifferently. "They are nothing but footlight beauties: they lookghastly off the boards. I dare say that Letty Lane _is_ ill, though; thepace she goes would kill anybody. Have some more tea?"
He held out his cup and agreed with her.
"She works too hard--this playing almost every night, singing and dancingtwice at the matinees, I should think she would be dead."
"Oh, I don't mean her professional engagements," murmured the duchess.
A revolt such as had stung him when they criticized her at the Carltonrose in him now.
"It is hard to believe," he said, "when you hear her sing that dove songand that cradle song."
But his companion's laugh stopped his championship short.
"You dear boy, don't be a silly, Dan. She doesn't need your pity or yourgood opinion. She is perfectly satisfied. She has got a fortune inPoniotowsky, and she really is 'a perfect terror,' you know."
Affected slightly by her cold dismissal of his subject, he paused for amoment. But his own point of view was too strong to be shaken by thiswoman's light words.
"I suppose if she wasn't from my town--" At his words the vision of LettyLane with the coral strands on her dress, came before his eyes, and hesaid honestly: "But I do take an interest in her just the same, andshe's going to pieces, that's clear. Something ought to be done."
The Duchess of Breakwater was very much annoyed.
"Are you going to talk about her all the time?" she asked with sharpsweetness. "You are not very flattering, Dan."
And he returned peacefully, "Why, I thought you might be able to helpher in some way or another."
"_Me!_" She laughed aloud. "Me help Letty Lane? Really--"
"Why, you might get her to sing out here," he suggested. "That wouldsort of get hold of her; women know how to do those things."
His preposterous simplicity overwhelmed her. She stirred her tea, andsaid, controlling herself, "Why, what on earth would you have me to sayto Letty Lane?"
"Oh, just be nice to her," he suggested. "Tell her to take care ofherself and to brace up. Get some nice woman to--"
The duchess helped him. "To reform her?"
"Do her good," the boy said gently.
"You're too silly for words. If you were not such a hopeless child Iwould be furious with you. Why, my dear boy, she would laugh in yourface and in mine."
As the duchess left the tea-table she repeated: "Is this what you cameup from London to talk to me about?"
And at the touch of her dress as she passed him--at the look she gave himfrom her eyes, Dan flushed and said honestly: "Why, I told you that shewas the only thing that kept me from thinking about you all the time."
The Girl From His Town Page 8
