A Gamble with Life Part 67

"I don't think Rufus Sterne would ever become a tyrant."

"He might, my child, under some circ.u.mstances. Never trust a man too far. I hear he is coming east."

"Indeed!"

"Has some new scheme on hand, I expect," and Mr. Graythorne picked up his hat and smiled knowingly.

Left alone again, the look of perplexity in Madeline's eyes deepened.

She had told Mr. Graythorne that she would take his advice and accept the Harveys' invitation. But she was disposed to change her mind again.

She did not want to leave New York at present. She might hide the truth from other people, but she could not hide it from herself, that if Rufus Sterne came to New York she wanted to see him.

She would not own to herself that she was in love, or anything approaching it. But she was undeniably interested. She had been from the first. Rufus Sterne appealed to her as no other man had done. His loneliness, his self-reliance, his courage, his independence made him an object of curiosity, to use no stronger term.

Moreover, there was a certain aloofness about him--a curious air of detachment, that quickened her curiosity into something she had no name for. In their last conversation he had been wonderfully frank--had opened his heart to her in a way that touched her sympathies to the quick, yet she knew she had not fathomed him yet. She had a feeling all the time that he was greater than he appeared, that his reticence was much more marked than its opposite.

He had suffered wrong without a murmur, and suffered wrong for her sake.

He had kept her name out of what he had called a sordid quarrel, and gone on his way in silence, asking no sympathy and seeking no revenge.

How was it possible, therefore, that she could fail to be interested in him? He was so different from most of the men she knew. So strong, so self-contained, so doggedly determined.

Some day he would find her out; she was sure of that. He was not the kind of man to remain in anyone's debt. She did not doubt for a moment that he guessed long ago who had sent him the money, but with the true instinct of chivalry he had not thrust himself upon her. He had allowed the months to go by, and had made no effort to find her; and during those months he had proved the stuff of which he was made. In an age of rush and greed and money-grabbing he had shown a fidelity to principle that even his detractors admired.

He might have "made his pile," in the slang phrase of the time, but he had shown no eagerness to do so. He had gambled once with life itself (though she did not know that); he would not gamble now with the things of life, with what men called "the world."

He had learnt his lesson and he would never forget it. To wrong a community was just as wicked as to wrong an individual. He refused to treat his employees as "hands"; they were men, not serfs to be exploited, but human beings to be protected and helped. He introduced a new industrial code and made himself one with his fellows.

Mr. Graythorne, who had followed his movements with great interest and curiosity, gave hints to Madeline every now and then, though he was never quite able to take the measure of Madeline's interest in him.

In truth, however, her interest had been a growing quant.i.ty. Silence and separation but quickened her imagination. The hints and fragments of news that reached her concerning him all helped in the same direction.

His apparent indifference to her made her all the more curious to see him again.

"No, I cannot leave New York," she said to herself, at length. "If he comes I want to be here. He may think I have tried to discharge my debt with dollars and do not want to see him again. To convey such an impression would be to wrong myself, and--and--him, for there was a time----"

She did not finish the sentence, however, but the warm colour stole swiftly to her neck and face and a bright light came into her eyes.

On the following day she told the Harveys--much to Kitty's grief and disappointment--that she could not accept their invitation.

CHAPTER x.x.xVI

HIS HEART'S DESIRE

Rufus made his way to New York with the fixed intention of finding Madeline Grover if that were possible. He had come to very definite conclusions as to the part she had played; but there was a good deal still that wanted explaining, and he was eager to get the riddle solved and his fate determined once for all.

Of his own feelings he had no doubt. She was the one woman in the world he loved or ever could love. He owed to her not only his life, but all that made life worth living--his faith, his vision of G.o.d, his hope of immortality. It was she who had come to him in the darkest mental and moral night that had ever fallen upon him, and had touched his eyes with a new vision, and had opened up to him the promise of a larger day.

But what her feelings were in regard to him he did not know. That she was grateful he had had proof enough, but grat.i.tude might exist where there was little or no love. It might exist even with positive dislike.

Her attempts to discharge her debt of grat.i.tude might not be any proof of affection. They might rather be evidence of a desire to get rid of an unpleasant responsibility.

He had hope, however, that Providence was in this as in other things.

That G.o.d had moved her heart to send him help when he needed it most he could no longer doubt. And since she had been the inspiration of what was best in his life, it might be the purpose of that Higher Will that she should stand by his side during the rest of his life.

At any rate, he would prove the matter for himself, as far as it could be proved. New York--or even America--was not so big but he might find her with patience and determination.

On reaching New York he made his way to Mr. Graythorne's office.

Presuming that it was she who had commissioned him to send the money, he would know where she lived. If it was not she, a new riddle would confront him, which he would have to try to solve sooner or later.

Mr. Graythorne received him, as before, without enthusiasm, and with no manifestation of surprise. Indeed, he quite expected that sooner or later he would call.

Rufus plunged into the object of his visit without any waste of words.

Indeed, his first question was so sudden and direct that it threw Mr.

Graythorne completely off his guard.

"I have called to ask you for the address of Miss Madeline Grover," he said.

Mr. Graythorne gave a start, and turned half round in his chair.

"Eh--eh? What's that?" he asked, abruptly.

"Miss Grover is a client of yours, I believe----"

"Who said she was a client of mine?"

Rufus smiled. "Of course, if you object to give me her address," he said, "I will not press the matter."

"I did not say I refuse, but such a request is somewhat unusual. Miss Grover may not care to have people calling on her. Her business affairs she leaves in my hands."

"And she is no doubt well advised in so doing. But I don't think Miss Grover will object to my calling."

"You know her?"

"A little. We met a few times when she was staying with the Tregonys."

"Oh, indeed." Mr. Graythorne expected he would say something about the five thousand dollars, but that was no part of his programme just then.

The lawyer felt in a quandary. He did not know what to do for the best.

He could not very well refuse her address, and yet he was not sure she would like being pounced upon by this young man without a moment's warning. Unfortunately, he could not ring her up, for she had no telephone in her house. What was he to do? Rufus stood looking at him with a smile on his face.

"If you are acquaintances," he said at length, "that of course settles the matter," and he wrote the address on a sheet of paper and handed it to his visitor.

Rufus thanked him and turned to go at once.

"Your property has turned out all right, I hear?" the lawyer said, insinuatingly.

"Oh, yes, excellently."