The Bacillus of Beauty Part 49

"'Wa-al,' I says to Frenchy, 'Helen 'Lizy was al'ays han'some.'

"'D'know 'bout zat,' says Frenchy, only he says it in his lingo, 'but she was one vair cute li'l gal.'

"'Han'some as a picter,' I tol' him; 'an' cutes' little tyke y'ever see.'"

"How is Mother?" asked Helen constrainedly.

"Ma's lottin' on havin' ye home; wants t' hear all 'bout the good times.

School done? All packed and ready for a start, ain't ye? But ye don't seem to be feeling any too good. Don't New York agree with ye, Sissy? Been studying too hard?"

"She is a goot organism; New York agrees vit her," I said. "Wasn't that how poor old Darmstetter put it, Nelly? Mr. Wins.h.i.+p, Nelly has overworked, but with your consent, she is about to let a tyrannical husband take care of her."

At my heedless mention of Darmstetter, Helen's white face grew whiter. Her trembling hand strayed, seeking support.

"Al'ays s'posed you'n' Sis'd be marryin' some day," said Mr. Wins.h.i.+p, dubiously watching her, while he stroked his beard; "but seems mos's if ye'd better wait a spell, till Ma's chirked her up some. Han'some place here."

His eyes examined the luxurious, disordered room.

"These here things ain't yourn, Sis?"

"Not all of them."

"I ain't refusin' to let Sis marry, if ye're both sot on't," he conceded.

Then he caught sight of the Van Nostrand painting, and his slow glance travelled from it to Helen. "That done for you, Sis? I never helt with bare necks. Yes, Sis can marry, if she says so, though Ma wants her home.

But she ain't been writin' real cheerful. She--she's asked for money, that's the size on't. An' here ye are up in arms an' she nigh sick. I don't want nothing hid away f'om me; how come ye livin' in a place like this?"

He rose laboriously, surveying through the open doorway the beautiful hall and the dining-room; while I interposed some jesting talk on other matters, for I had hoped to get Helen out of the Nicaragua before her father's arrival, and still hoped to spare him knowledge of our worst troubles.

"If Sis has been buyin' all this here, I ain't denying that I'll feel the expense," he said, sticking to the subject; "but I guess we can manage."

Fumbling for his wallet, he drew some papers from it and handed them to Helen, adding:--

"There, Sis; there they are."

"Money, Father?" she asked with indifference. "I don't believe I need any."

"Don't ye? Ye wrote 'bout mortgagin'. I didn't want to do it, 'count o'

Ma, partly; but we kep' worryin' an' worryin' 'bout ye. Ma couldn't sleep o' nights or eat her victuals; an fin'lly--'Ezry,' she says, 'we was possessed to let Helen 'Lizy, at her age, an' all the chick or child we got, go off alone to the city. Ezry,' she says, 'you go fetch her home.

Like's not Tim can let ye have the money,' she says; 'his wife bein' an own cousin, right in the family, y'know.' So I've brought the deeds, Sis, an'--"

"What!" cried Helen, starting up. "The deeds of the farm? Let me see!"

She reached out a shaking hand for the papers.

"I'll pay you back!" she cried. "Why didn't you come sooner? How much can you get? How much money?"

"Not much more'n three thousan', I'm afeared, on a mortgage; cap'tal's kind o' skeery--but Tim--"

"Three thousand dollars!"

Laughing hysterically, she fell back in her chair.

"I had ought 'a come sooner; an' three thousan' ain't a gre't deal, I don't suppose, here in the city; but it's been spend, spend--not that I grutch it--an' things ain't so flouris.h.i.+n' as they was. I'm gittin' too old to manage, mebbe--"

"Mr. Wins.h.i.+p," I said, "Nelly has told you the truth; she doesn't need money; she--"

"Three thousand will save me!" Helen cried. "I can pay a little to everybody. I can hold out, I can--"

"Please, Miss--the furniture--"

Behind Clesta appeared two men who gaped at Helen in momentary forgetfulness of their errand.

Helen's creditors have proved more than reasonable, with the exception of the furniture people; their demands were such that there seemed no alternative but to surrender the goods. As the men who came for them advanced into the room, stammering questions about the articles they were to remove, Helen struggled to her feet and started to meet them, then stopped, clutching at a table for support. Their eyes never left her face.

"Are they takin' your things, Sis?" asked Mr. Wins.h.i.+p.

Her feverish glance answered him.

"What's to pay?" he inquired.

"Want to keep the stuff, Boss?" asked the head packer.

"Yes," I said, seeing her distress, and resolving desperately to find the means, somehow.

"It ain't none o' your look-out," interposed Mr. Wins.h.i.+p. "Sis ain't a- goin' to be beholden to her husband, not till she's married. Ezry Wins.h.i.+p al'ays has done for his own, an' he proposes to do, jes' as fur's he's able. Sis'll tell ye I hain't stented her--What's to pay?"

I couldn't see all his savings go for gauds!

"You may take the goods," I said to the men, with sudden revulsion of feeling. "There's no room for them," I added gruffly to Mr. Wins.h.i.+p, "in our--the rooms--where we are to live."

"All right, Boss," said the head packer; "which gent speaks for the lady?"

"Father!" Helen gasped.

"What's to pay?" insisted Mr. Wins.h.i.+p.

"Take the goods," I repeated.

"All right, Boss;" and the two men went about their work, still glancing at us with sidelong looks of curiosity.

Helen gazed at me with eyes that stabbed. Then slowly her glance dulled.

She dropped on a packing box and sat silent--a bowed figure of despair-- forgetting apparently that she was not alone.

Mr. Wins.h.i.+p made no further attempt to interfere with events. He stood by Helen's side, puzzled and taciturn.

I, too, was silent, reproaching myself for the brutality of my action, unable to decide what I should have done or ought to do. Helen herself had suggested that we give up the furniture, and I had not mourned the necessity, for I hated the stuff, with its reminders of the General and the Whitney woman and Bellmer and the Earl and all those strange people that I used to see around her. But I might have known that she could not, all at once, wean herself from the trumpery.

A minute later Clesta ushered in the man who was to take the trunks, and when I had given him his directions, I asked:--