Bought and Paid For; From the Play of George Broadhurst Part 44

Seeing that it was useless, f.a.n.n.y did not attempt to dissuade her. On the contrary, now she was acquainted with all the facts in the case, she was indignant herself and gave her sister credit for displaying so much spirit. Of course, it meant a serious pecuniary loss to them all.

Jimmie could not possibly remain in his position, in view of this rupture; he would resign his lucrative job and they would be compelled to go back to the days when they struggled along on fourteen dollars a week. It was hard, but better that, she told Virginia with an affectionate hug, than that millionaires should go around thinking they could buy and sell women like so many cattle.

So everything was quickly settled. Virginia, of course, would live henceforth with them. She applied for her old position at the hotel, and after some delay secured it. This was a great relief to her, for she would never have consented to being a burden on her sister and it a.s.sured her a competence as long as she chose to stay.

Jimmie, much to his disgust, handed in his resignation, which was accepted more promptly than he had secretly hoped, the flat in One Hundred and Fortieth street was given up and the Gillies moved into one a little less pretentious, but more in keeping with their curtailed income. A job of some kind to keep the kettle boiling was very necessary, so Jimmie reluctantly applied for his old job and became once more a $14 a week s.h.i.+pping clerk. This however was a temporary makes.h.i.+ft, he protested. He was chock full of good ideas, and now he was rid of Stafford, who he claimed, had really paralyzed his efforts, he would be able to give free rein to his inventive genius. f.a.n.n.y listened patiently. By this time she had few illusions left concerning her husband's chances of success in life. All she asked was that they should get along respectably and happily.

So the time had pa.s.sed. It was now three months since Virginia had left her husband, and in all that time she had made no attempt to communicate with him. She had no desire to do so. If, sometimes, she had a secret yearning, if she sometimes hoped that he would miss her and come and fetch her back, she stifled it instantly. The very fact that he had made no attempt to come after her, showed plainly enough that he had never really cared for her. She thanked G.o.d that they had had no children. At least she was spared the torture of having brought unhappiness on innocent heads. At times she saw his name mentioned in the newspapers, and she smiled bitterly when she read accounts of sensational supper parties, scandalous proceedings which had attracted the attention of the public in which he had figured prominently. That was the kind of life he liked, the only kind he knew. How could she ever have dreamed that he was a man who would make her a good husband?

"Mr. Brown! Mr. Robinson! Mr. Brown! Mr. Robinson!"

The monotonous, shrill voices of the pages as they wearily made their rounds calling out the names of invisible guests, the orders of clerks and doormen, the chattering and laughing of the people as they pa.s.sed and re-pa.s.sed up and down the corridors made a perfect babel of conflicting sound. The afternoon was now well advanced. The crowds had begun to dispense. There was more breathing s.p.a.ce in the pa.s.sages. For the time being the rush was over and Virginia sat back in her chair, glad of a moment's respite after the busy day. She saw nothing and heard nothing of the commotion all around her. The noise and the crowds in the hotel lobby did not exist for her. Her thoughts, in spite of herself, were far away, with the man who before G.o.d's altar had solemnly promised to s.h.i.+eld and protect her, and then permitted her to go out alone in the cold, unsympathetic world to earn her own living as best she could, without even making an effort to find how or where she was. With all his faults, she had always thought Robert kind-hearted. Why, then, should he have treated her in this cruel, heartless, indifferent manner? A man's voice suddenly aroused her from her words. In a cold, business-like tone it said:

"Are you busy? I have some letters to dictate."

Instantly aroused to a sense of her duties, Virginia sat up with a start. Without looking up, accustomed to be at the beck and call of the first stranger who came along, she said wearily:

"No, I'm not busy. I'll take the dictation."

The newcomer sat down at her desk. Virginia slipped a piece of paper into her machine and was ready to begin. Suddenly the man uttered an exclamation. She looked up and nearly fell from her chair.

"Mr. Hadley!" she exclaimed.

It was her husband's most intimate friend. Chance had brought him to the hotel and having some business letters to write, he had stopped at the desk of the first stenographer who appeared to be unoccupied. When he saw who the young operator was he could scarcely believe his eyes.

With a gesture of the greatest concern, he exclaimed:

"Mrs. Stafford! You here?"

She smiled sadly.

"Yes. I've been here some time, ever since--" She stopped short, not knowing how much he might know of her difference with her husband. As yet the world knew nothing of the scandal that had shattered a home and as far as she was concerned it never would. After a pause she added timidly: "You see I am not rich--I have to support myself."

Hadley leaned forward and sympathetically grasped her hand. He had always liked Virginia. Her womanliness and spirit appealed strongly to him. Stafford had treated her like a brute. He ought never to have let her go. Many a time he had berated his friend for what he termed his pigheaded obstinacy.

"Oh, Mrs. Stafford!" he went on warmly. "I had no idea you were here.

How n.o.ble and plucky it is of you--"

"Any self-respecting woman would do the same," she said quietly.

Hadley shrugged his shoulders. Cynically he replied:

"Some might, most wouldn't. You don't find women in our set making sacrifices even for a principle when it comes to giving up their comforts and their luxuries. I think you've acted splendidly and so does Bob, only he won't admit it. He's a good fellow at heart. The trouble was that he married too late in life. His habits were formed.

He did not realize that to be happy in married life one must give as well as take; in other words, that a really happy marriage is a compromise. Always having had his own way, accustomed to imposing his will upon that of others, he failed to realize that when he married he conferred certain rights on the woman to whom he gave his name. Now it is different. He sees his mistake. It has been a bitter lesson to him."

A deep flush spread over Virginia's pale face. What did these words mean? Could it be true that her husband still loved her?

"You see him sometimes?" she murmured.

"Almost every day. I dined with him at the club last night."

"Is he well?"

Hadley made no answer, but bending forward, looked more closely at his friend's wife. He took quick note of her tired-looking eyes, the pallor of her face. Slowly he said:

"And you? Are you well? I think that is more important."

She smiled wearily as she answered:

"Oh, I'm a little tired, that's all. This work is very confining. In fact, I've quite gotten out of the way of it."

He looked at her intently for a moment in silence. Then he said:

"I had no idea where you had gone. None of his friends knew. Some think you are abroad. Bob has let that impression get about. Even I, his most intimate friend, did not know all the particulars! I guessed the truth. Yet Bob knew where you were."

Virginia, startled, looked up quickly:

"He knows?" she exclaimed.

Hadley nodded.

"Yes--he has employed a man to watch you constantly from a distance.

Not because he believed you would ever give him cause for divorce--to be fair to him, that has never entered his mind; but he wanted someone to watch over you, protect you--"

Virginia flushed; her heart was beating violently. In a low tone, she said:

"He has done that?" she exclaimed. "Then he has not forgotten me after all--"

The young man laughed.

"Forgotten you! I should think not. You are never out of his thoughts.

He won't admit it, but I know it. He loves you to-day better than he ever did."

"Then why, if he knows where I am, doesn't he come to me?"

Hadley clenched his fist. Vehemently, almost angrily, he answered:

"Because he's a fool. He said he wouldn't come to you until you sent for him, and he hasn't the moral courage to change his mind--he's afraid to be laughed at."

Virginia shook her head. Sadly she said:

"Then I'm afraid the breach will never be healed. If he is proud, I am not less so. I shall never send for him."

"But you can't go on like this, my dear Mrs. Stafford," he protested.

"You really can't. You'll make yourself ill. It's not the kind of life you're fitted for."

"What else can I do?" she inquired. "Teach? I have not the patience.

Go into a store? It is too humiliating. No, this is the best I can think of. I'm living with my sister. I am comfortable and as happy as I can expect to be under the circ.u.mstances."

"But won't you change your mind, won't you forgive Bob?" he persisted.

"Let me go back to him now with a message from you. It is all he is waiting for, I know it--just one word. It will make him the happiest of men!"