Bought and Paid For; From the Play of George Broadhurst Part 36

The girl opened the door and f.a.n.n.y entered, fresh and buoyant after a good night's sleep.

"Good morning!" exclaimed the newcomer cheerfully.

"Good morning, dear," replied Virginia quietly as she finished the note and put it in an envelope. Handing it to Josephine, she said quietly: "Give that to John."

"Oui, Madame."

The girl took the note and left the room. f.a.n.n.y looked inquiringly at her sister. There was something in her manner which she did not like.

At last she said hesitatingly:

"I'm so sorry about last night, dear."

"Don't, please!" said Virginia, quickly raising her hand.

"Have you seen him this morning?"

"No."

"Then you don't know how he is?"

"Oh, yes, I do."

"How do you know?"

"Previous experience," said Virginia bitterly.

f.a.n.n.y took both her sister's hands in hers and gently drew her to her breast as a mother, full of gentle pity, would caress and console an unhappy child. For a moment Virginia tried to keep back the flood of tears that were choking her utterance, but the effort was too great and suddenly, with a stifled moan of distress, she broke into a torrent of pa.s.sionate weeping.

Her sister made no attempt to quiet her. She felt it would be useless.

All she did was to stroke her beautiful hair and murmur:

"Don't cry, dear, everything will be all right."

[Ill.u.s.tration: "I'M SO UNHAPPY, DEAR," CRIED VIRGINIA. PAGE 241]

In broken sentences, interrupted every now and then by renewed weeping, Virginia cried:

"I'm so unhappy--dear--so unhappy--you will never know. This thing is not of yesterday--I've endured it so long--until I could stand it no longer. He despises me--he said he did. He bought me--and paid for me.

How can he have anything but contempt for me?"

"What did he do or say?" demanded f.a.n.n.y, at a loss what to advise.

"What does he say this morning? Have you spoken to him?"

Virginia, more calm, shook her head.

"No--I've scarcely exchanged a word with him. He can't definitely recall what he said or did, but he is thoroughly repentant and ashamed."

"That's something anyway," said f.a.n.n.y encouragingly.

Virginia shook her head. Doubtfully she asked:

"Is it--when it gives no guarantee for the future?"

f.a.n.n.y was silent. There are some crises in a woman's life when even a sister cannot advise, when a woman must decide for herself. Slowly she said: "But after all's said and done, dear--he is your husband and that makes everything right, doesn't it?"

"No," retorted Virginia bitterly, "it merely makes it legal."

"Legal?"

"Yes, lecherous old men of eighty marry girls in their teens--but does that make their relations right? Avaricious young men in their twenties marry women in their fifties. Does marriage make their relations right? In some States white women can marry black men--marry them just as properly as you and I are married--but does marriage make their relations right? No, marriage merely makes them legal."

"Do you mean to tell me that if a woman has a marriage certificate--"

"Precisely. She has doc.u.mentary evidence that she is lawfully ent.i.tled to live with a man--that's all. A marriage certificate has nothing to do with the morality of marriage! Nothing!"

"Then what has?"

"Love--and self-respect," said Virginia. "The legal thing isn't always the right thing, and if I am ever forced to choose between what is legal and what is right I shall choose what is right."

"Are you going to do--anything?"

"What can I do?"

"I don't know," stammered f.a.n.n.y. She was rather afraid of her impulsive little sister. She might do something rash--something that would hurt them all. Anxiously she said:

"And yet I feel that you are going to do something. Aren't you?"

Virginia made no reply and she repeated:

"Tell me--whatever it is--promise that you won't do anything rash."

"I can promise that freely enough," replied Virginia with a sad smile.

"I'm so glad!" exclaimed f.a.n.n.y with a gesture of relief and starting forward to embrace her sister.

Virginia raised her hand. Quickly she said:

"And you--you too, must promise me something."

"What?"

"Promise me whatever happens, that you will never tell Jimmie about--Robert--and me."

"Very well."

"If you do, I shall never forgive you! Never!"

"I won't."