Our Mr. Wrenn: The Romantic Adventures of a Gentle Man Part 45

Their eyes were like a circle of charging bayonets as he opened and read the message--a s.h.i.+p's wireless.

Meet me _Hesperida._--ISTRA.

"It's just--a--a business message," he managed to say, and splashed his soup. This was not the place to take the feelings out of his thumping heart and examine them.

Dinner was begun. Picnics were conversationally considered in all their more important phases--historical, dietetical, and social. Mr. Wrenn talked much and a little wildly. After dinner he galloped out to buy a paper. The S.S. _Hesperiida_ was due at ten next morning.

It was an evening of frightened confusion. He tottered along Lexington Avenue on a furtive walk. He knew only that he was very fond of Nelly, yet pantingly eager to see Istra. He d.a.m.ned himself--"d.a.m.ned" is literal--every other minute for a cad, a double-faced traitor, and all the other horrifying things a man is likely to declare himself to be for making the discovery that two women may be different and yet equally likable. And every other minute he reveled in an adventurous gladness that he was going to see Istra--actually, incredibly going to see her, just the next day! He returned to find Nelly sitting on the steps of Mrs. Arty's.

"h.e.l.lo."

"h.e.l.lo."

Both good sound observations, and all they could say for a time, while Mr. Wrenn examined the under side of the iron steps rail minutely.

"Billy--was it something serious, the telegram?"

"No, it was--Miss Nash, the artist I told you about, asked me to meet her at the boat. I suppose she wants me to help her with her baggage and the customs and all them things. She's just coming from Paris."

"Oh yes, I see."

So lacking in jealousy was Nelly that Mr. Wrenn was disappointed, though he didn't know why. It always hurts to have one's thunderous tragedies turn out realistic dialogues.

"I wonder if you would like to meet her. She's awful well educated, but I dunno--maybe she'd strike you as kind of sn.o.bbish. But she dresses I don't think I ever seen anybody so elegant. In dressing, I mean. Course"--hastily--"she's got money, and so she can afford to. But she's--oh, awful nice, some ways. I hope you like--I hope she won't--"

"Oh, I sha'n't mind if she's a sn.o.b. Of course a lady gets used to that, working in a department store," she said, chillily; then repented swiftly and begged: "Oh, I _didn't_ mean to be snippy, Billy. Forgive me! I'm sure Miss Nash will be real nice. Does she live here in New York?"

"No--in California.... I don't know how long she's going to stay here."

"Well--well--hum-m-m. I'm getting _so_ sleepy. I guess I'd better go up to bed. Good night."

Uneasy because he was away from the office, displeased because he had to leave his beloved letters to the Southern trade, angry because he had had difficulty in getting a pa.s.s to the wharf, and furious, finally, because he hadn't slept, Mr. Wrenn nursed all these c.u.mulative emotions attentively and waited for the coming of the _Hesperida_. He was wondering if he'd want to see Istra at all. He couldn't remember just how she looked. Would he like her?

The great steamer swung side-to and was coaxed alongside the wharf. Peering out between rows of crowding shoulders, Mr.

Wrenn coldly inspected the pa.s.sengers lining the decks. Istra was not in sight. Then he knew that he was wildly agitated about her. Suppose something had happened to her!

The smallish man who had been edging into the crowd so politely suddenly dashed to the group forming at the gang-plank and pushed his way rudely into the front rank. His elbow dug into the proper waistcoat of a proper plump old gentleman, but he didn't know it. He stood grasping the rope rail of the plank, gazing goggle-eyed while the plank was lifted to the steamer's deck and the long line of smiling and waving pa.s.sengers disembarked. Then he saw her--tall, graceful, nonchalant, uninterested, in a smart check suit with a lively hat of black straw, carrying a new Gladstone bag.

He stared at her. "Gee!" he gasped. "I'm crazy about her.

I am, all right."

She saw him, and their smiles of welcome made them one.

She came from the plank and hastily kissed him.

"Really here!" she laughed.

"Well, well, well, well! I'm so glad to see you!"

"Glad to see you, Mouse dear."

"Have good tr--"

"Don't ask me about it! There was a married man _sans_ wife who persecuted me all the way over. I'm glad _you_ aren't going to fall in love with me."

"Why--uh--"

"Let's hustle over and get through the customs as soon as we can. Where's N? Oh, how clever of it, it's right by M.

There's one of my trunks already. How are you, Mouse dear?"

But she didn't seem really to care so very much, and the old bewilderment she always caused was over him.

"It is good to get back after all, and--Mouse dear, I know you won't mind finding me a place to live the next few days, will you?" She quite took it for granted. "We'll find a place this morning, _n'est-ce pas?_ Not too expensive. I've got just about enough to get back to California."

Man fas.h.i.+on, he saw with acute clearness the pile of work on his desk, and, man fas.h.i.+on, responded, "No; be glad tuh."

"How about the place where you're living? You spoke about its being so clean and all."

The thought of Nelly and Istra together frightened him.

"Why, I don't know as you'd like it so very much."

"Oh, it'll be all right for a few days, anyway. Is there a room vacant."

He was sulky about it. He saw much trouble ahead.

"Why, yes, I suppose there is."

"Mouse dear!" Istra plumped down on a trunk in the confused billows of incoming baggage, customs officials, and indignant pa.s.sengers that surged about them on the rough floor of the vast dock-house. She stared up at him with real sorrow in her fine eyes.

"Why, Mouse! I thought you'd be glad to see me. I've never rowed with you, have I? I've tried not to be temperamental with you. That's why I wired you, when there are others I've known for years."

"Oh, I didn't mean to seem grouchy; I didn't! I just wondered if you'd like the house."

He could have knelt in repentance before his G.o.ddess, what time she was but a lonely girl in the clatter of New York. He went on:

"And we've got kind of separated, and I didn't know--But I guess I'll always--oh--kind of wors.h.i.+p you."

"It's all right, Mouse. It's--Here's the customs men."

Now Istra Nash knew perfectly that the customs persons were not ready to examine her baggage as yet. But the discussion was ended, and they seemed to understand each other.

"Gee, there's a lot of rich Jew ladies coming back this time!"

said he.

"Yes. They had diamonds three times a day," she a.s.sented.