COMPLETE TALES

Auckland Star, Volume XXXVII, Issue 299, 22 December 1906, Page 15

COMPLETE TALES

'' . (By Mary Roberts Binehart.) i'

POVERTY AND PETULANCE.

IT was raining, and raining hard. Burton raised Ms umbrella, and waited -while Janet gathered up her skirts. Around them swirled and eddied a closely packed mob of people, stainpeding for cars, beaten back by fresh torrents of rain, while those fortunate enough to have carriages or automobiles drew their light wraps around Qem and waited for their numbers to te called. '•"We can get across the street to Me--Rierson's-" Burton said, after a look offtskLe. "'get somethng to eat, and take c cab home from there." ' "*lfs not a rain: it's a cloudburst," Janet said pettishly, as they waited for a, break in the line of carriages. "And Jj am as sure as can be that my gown Vpots -ffith. every drop that touches it." I .-Doa't worry about a little thing like that/'•■ Burton said. "Ifs a pretty gown -and it suits you, but—fhinlc of the wonders ef the trousseau! 5 " Janet dimpled in spite of her anxiety. "Some day," she said saucily, '"'you iriil be very stem on such occasions. You say, '"why in the world do women • buy-such perishable things? 3 and '1 Jeaimoi possibly afford to have you get jTusther one this quarter. 5 " "Sever!" Burton turned in the shadow of the umbrella, and looked down gt; her with ardent eyes. '""But of course," he added, witt a twitch at the corners of mouth, needn't tell your fa,ther, that I'm pining to buy gowns for x*m. Costly thy trousseau as thy purse esn buy- If "we want to go down the j Shine ** -'• Janet squeezed his arm furtively. ."Dc-nt," she said. "Tf I get to thinking about Europe, and —and you, at the Eame time, I can't go to sleep at all. 1 begin to plan what I shall wear here, aiid what I shall weax there, and I nave to get up and count things to get to sleep. 3 They had reached McPherson's now r .Janet "stepped inside the storm-doors and Burton put down his umbrella- At that an elderly man, poorly clad and dripping, emerged from the shadows of the building. "Could you give mc a" quarter, he said to Burton whiningiv. ~Tve no place to sleep to-night and I've had no sup-

Burton put his hand in his pocket; then he hesitated. "You've been drinking/ he said sharply, pausing with the I door partly open. "Only a drop. The man took off ids hat and shook the rain from the. rim. "Only a drog, to keep out the cold/; ac whimpered- But Burton's face set -jfj-p a flint, and he turned and •went inJ. letting the door slam in the other man's lace. From just inside Janet had -witnessed ■tie scene -without hearing the conversation. She -was almost shocked at Burton's refusal to assist the beggar outside fnuTshe-bflld her face averted as he passed , to'-cheek. &TS-hat «nd umbreUa. ♦_■ , "'.The-man still stood,"/locking in. ~fse- ' - TODd. the screen "of "palms" at the doorway in orchestra «as playing; there/were ■jsmk-shaded lights, pretty gowns, Appetizing odours. Outside the rain beat down 5 on the shining pavements on steaming horses protected -with rubber blankets, and on the forlorn figure of the mendicant. With a sudden impulse Janet opened ier purse and she emptied, out its small change. Then she pushed open the "etormdoor and thrust out her/hand. " ~ ir ßexeJ* she said clearly, "take this and go home. You -will have pneumonia." It -was on this little tableau.: that Burton appeared, just in time to see Janet's v impulsive gesture, and the man slinking ■ off into the shadows. : The ■- attendant at the oSoor having iratched the incident throughout, sufficiently forgot hie dignity to follow the chief actors with hie eyes as they moved io & table. Being in small measure a student of human and inhuman nature, 'is realised what was portended by the jnan's stiff erectness, the-girl's cold dig-

BHy. . It -was a sorry supper after all that "the evening had promised. Burton studied the menu -with an impassive face: iJanst lifrp all women, careful of appearances, and -with a due regard for tie waiter at her elbow, talked carelessly x& anything, everything, to cover the break. Neither of them ate:anything when the "supper was finally brought. Janet, the conventional, toyed with hers, but Burton looked gloomllv over the room and dug holes in the cloth wife bis fork. When the officious waiter! had left them to "taemselves, Burton' prepared to have it "Now," look here, Janet." he said, "folding his arms on the table and leanfcjg forward, "look here, sweetheart. •cooldct you. nave trusted my judgment in a case like that* Don't you. think it ■was —yelL conspicuous, anyhow, to give that fellow money when the man with you had refused it to him. It isn't the Jsonev, or the/giving—you know that. It is'the idea-fof this vicarious charity

T . fl wouldn't let a dog stay in that Tain. 1, she burst out. Iv "I don't thfatr you •understand,'* he persisted, stSI gently. "Men. like that make begging an occupation- They taka a rainy night as philosophically as—as a, doctor does a case of smallpox. It's all in the day's -work. Besides, that fellow 'had been drinking." ife --"It is £he smallness of the thing," ' Janet's eyes were flashing. "All my life "I have given, what I could afford, and -Sometimes more, I espeet. And I —l wouldn't want to- feel that in the future ItnT —mv husband, that is—that my good were going to be hampered. Jhat I wouldn't" be allowed to help the joor. lib isn't a week." she went on acaisingly, ''since you refused to buy out ijj little newsy who said he couldn't go home until all his papers were sold." -j.. Burton's brows contracted. guilty/ he said, "although 'thad no idea I was being weighed ia the balance. If you insist on -knowing, those eewsies buy oat old editions for a song, . tnd play the same racket night after ..night, usually trying to work the men *no are accompanied by women. I am Jerfeetly willing to give* and to have my wife give, to worthy objects. But I do \lot believe in promiscuous charity." I • Janet drew on her gloves with great * e*re. .

: - "Then, as I understand it," she said ' finally, looking up, "yon. do not approve :- ef any generosity that is not coldly calI elating/* ~ ■ i .

' I Berton was rather alarmed at her face. .•- "I think you* know mc well enough, \ie*t, to kaosf th»t I would nev« am-

sume the position of my wife's mentor. | I will defer to her opinions, as I hope she will to mine. We would not disagree over it if she did feed tramps at the kitchen door, or give away my old clothes : without investigating - a \

"üßt you would not approve?" broke in Janet.

'•No," said Burton slowly. "I would not approve."

»The drive home was very silent. Burton possessed himself of one of Janet's hands, but it lay coldly- unresponsive in his clasp. Janet's profile, seen as they passed in the comparative brightness oE the street lights, seemed not so much hurt or angry as thoughtful.

Burton had the uncomfortable feeling that he was being weighed in the balance once more and found wanting. And yet he would not recede from the position he had taken. Once she turned to him.

"Perhaps. I had better tell you," she said coldly, "that I am in the habit of feeding all the stray cats and dogs I find."

"Wny, of course?" he said, puzzled. as men have been before, by the intricacies of her logic. "Of course, feed ail you want to. The more the merrier. That hasn't anything to do with, the matter we have been discussing."

it?" she asked, with raised eyebrows. And he raged inwardly at the feminine unreason, which could not discriminate between humanity and principle — between feeding homeless sm-mals and pauperising the worthless poor.

Burton dismissed the cab at the Millard house, and, according to his custom, went in for a last five minutes before the twenty-four hour separation that lay ahead.

To-night, however, Janet pleaded a headache for cutting fhe usual five minutes to two. When Burton left, it was with the baSed conviction that he and Janet were farther apart, with their wedding a short six weeks away, than they had been at any time in the last year-.

He walked home slowly. The rain was over new; only an occasional breeze showered him with drops from the dripprog trees, and there was a smell of wet asphalt in the air. A cat slipped across tS.e street in front of him and disappeared liitd an area. Burton remembered what Janet had said about stray cats and dogs, and sighed.

The next day at noon he received a note from Janet. She--was -writing this before going to bed, she said, while the events of the evening were fresh in her mind. ■ ; .

She wanted him to'know that she was not angry; only a iittle hurt, and perhaps disappointed. She had suddenly realised how little, after all. they each other, and how different thenopinions -were on the most elementary things. And so she thought it wise that they take a little time to think things over.

Would he please jopt come for st week, or perhaps" Setter In the meantime she "was enclosing a pamohlet called. '-"Humanity," -which might (this -was implied) lighten the darkness of his ignorance.

Burton put the leter in Ms pocket. Tlis copy, of " Humanity " he threw Into the -waste-paper basket, where it lay for ten minutes, at the end of which time he took it out, smoothed it repentantly, and put it in a certain small drawer in his desk. Then he went back to the world of finance, whose only charity lies in giving the calf sufficient rope to insure a speedy death.

Janet got up with a headache the next morning. Somehow, Burton's conduct the previous evening seemed less heinous in the cold light of morning. She had to go over every detail again to bring herself to a proper state of indignation.

After breakfast she shut herself in her room and began systematically to. review the situation. If she married Burton —there was a sob in the " if " — what would become of the Moriarity family, good-natured, worthless parasites that "they were, who had squeezed their feet into" her cast-oS shoes for years?

What" of the Finnegans, by taking off the trains and converting them into extra side-gores, had been able, with extreme caution, to get into her last year's gowns? The absurdity of the thing struck her finally, and relieved the tension somewhat. "Imagine," she thought, '"asking Molly Finnegan if she could prove that she absolutely needed or deserved my last year's polka-dot silk! Or examining the family history of the mar-ket-boy before I gave him an orange!" But, although she laughed, the tears were close. This last sis weeks had meant so much to her—and to have them spoiled now!—if, indeed, there would ever be a wedding! Whereupon, finrfi-np herself growing somewhat hysterical, she proceeded to hunt out a bundle of discarded garments for the street-sweeper's family. Although it was midsummer, she went unselfishly through layers of tax-paper and camphor-bags; she revelled in flannels for the approaching winter; she hunted out old shoes, old top-coats of her father's; antique and ragged furs —even a flattened pink-net ballgown, after a moment's hesitation, joined the others.

When she finished at last, there was a considerable heap of old clothing on the attic floor, and Janet was sobbing her heart out over the pink ball-gown, torn beyond repair, where Burton had danced 'through it; trampled, as she thought her heart was, by her idol's feet of clay.

AVTftOftS.

That afternoon a middle-aged tramp stopped at the kitchen door and. asked for a pair of shoes. The cook, stony at first, finally appealed to Janet, the generous. "Does he look—worthy? Janet asked, somewhat mindful of the previous evening's experience. " I can't say as to that/'.said Maggie. *»He looks dirty enough, and his toes is out." Finally Janet went to the kitchen door. v Yes Tit," said the tramp glibly.. " Pra a mechanic out of a job. Everything's shut down in n*7 town, 'count of a strike, and Fve wore out 'my shoea hnntin' work. Tfes'm, I'd be right glad to get a pair o> pants. These has seen their best days." Janet went to the attic and returned triumphant -with a pair of English trousers, somewhat frayed at the bottom, * full-dress shirt, as much frayed at the cuffs, a pair of patent-leather Oxford shoes, and a folding opera-hat _ , «If you could get a cost seat gteV

she said, "you would be quite neatly dressed. I know a Tn«.n about your size wlio might have a—-but never mind," she added hastily, " and I hope you will be able to find work now."

The tramp thanked her profusely but hurriedly, as if he feared she might be pent of her generosity before he got away; then he left, by way of the area door. If he had looked up, lie might have seen a young man sauntering past; a man who viewed vm and his bundle with hostile eyes and the suspicion of a rueful smile.

During the week which Janet bad taken to think things over, she bad many occasions to-be glad of the heap on the attic floor. The day after the tramp came, a forlorn-looking woman in a black sunbonnet knocked at the kitchen door. She had a basket of merchandise for sale—gaudy dust-caps, checked gingham aprons, and under everything else, some thread lace.

" She had made it herself, every bit of it. And if the lady didn't care to buy anything, would she like to have her fortune told? Who could say, there migtk be " " Ain't yez ashamed? " said Maggie, virtuously- a Don't yez know it's agin' the law to tell fortunes? If Mr. Flaherty was to drop in '

Janet entered in time to hear the woman's voluble defence.

What was a poor woman to do when her man left her, and eight dollars rent owin', and the children cryin' because over Sunday there was nothing but dry bread? Sixteen of them, yes, ma'am, and the oldest girl could work and help her, only she had nothing to wear.

On this entered Janet. Once more she went to the attic, returning with a miscellaneous array of high-heeled slippers, bodices whose available trimmings had been removed, turn-over collars, and last and not without a pang, a gray skirt and jacket, perfectly good. She had always liked that suit; it was the one she had worn on that motor-trip to Eversley, the time —but it was foolish to think of that now.

" I hope your daughter can wear it," she said, packing it on top of the aprons and dustcaps. "I—-I was always fond of it myself."

" God bless you," said the woman fervently, and hurried away. At the street she stopped to replace the cover of the basket. A young man, sauntering past, spied the gleam of gray from within, and smiled, as before, mirthlessly.

"You're a perfect goose, Janet," her sister May said angrily, -whan she heard of the gray gown, i Just because you are going to be married, and are gerfing everything new, you needn't think the : rest of us are. I have been planning for a month to put my- Irish lace collar and cuffs on thart jack's*, and to wear the . suit myself this fall." "I think you are very selfish," said Janet loftily, but with a secret nisgiving. If you- had seen how distressed wasf;■ -,-.. >TS -j,t"l.i»<' ■■. '■> -. "Ppoiil" 'said May'"with scorn. "How do you know she deserves anything? Hew do you know she has a daughter? Maggie says she was telling fortunes."

"I wish you would try to remember, May." Janet said coldly, " that it was my gown I gave away, and tfc&t I shall continue to give away whatever of mine I see fit, without consulting my sisters."

As Janet stemmed the door behind her, she heard a few words flung after her in triumph.

" Father—looking everywhere—patent leather Oxford " and she locked herself in her room. . What a cold, mercenary world it was! Even her nearest and dearest, May, and—and Burton— they were selfish,' calculating.

Her lover, whom she had thought big and magnanimous—even he would quibble over a , 'mite to a beggar. She wished she had taken up settlement work, and had never thought of being married. And fhen, looking for a handkerchief to dry her eyes, she came across a bundle of old ribbons, and stopped to sort oat hair-ribbons for the laundress , daughter.

Four days dragged their weary length along. Burton sulked at his club in the evenings, and took long solitary walks after business hours in the afternoon. At the end of the fourth day, however, he was less sure of himself than he had been. He had ceased jumping to his desk-telephone when the bell rang; the arrival of the mail held no possibilities.

There would be no summons, he knew now, until the time had expired, and Janet had ''thought things over!" Nevertheless, he walked past the Mlllard house daily, from sheer force of habit, and it was on one such occasion that he met May. "Come on in,' , she said c ~ Janet's out, taking flannels to some one's new baby, and I want to talk to you." So Burton went into the familiar hall and into the library, sacred for months to bis evenings with Janet—an empty shrine now, without its goddess. " You're a dandy,' 3 said May brutally, unpinning her hat. " Six weeks to your wedding day, and tyrannizing over your fiancee "

"I am not the tyrant," eaid Burton. "Ton*re got the wrong end. Im merely the tyrantee."

"I see/ said May, with sisterly candour. "Janet has got you down, and is holding your head under. I've been there."

"If that's what you wanted to say," Burton said uncomfortably, "I knew it before I came. And I wasn't to come here for a week at least."

f 'Toirre my guest," said May. "I know a little about the fuss; not much. Janet don't talk. But here's my hand— you have my sympathy. If you want to preserve your household gods and your wedding presents, you will have to nail Chem down- Janet in a generous mood is^—well, she's sacrificial."

"It isn't that I object to giving/ , said Burton feebly, —itfs these confounded fakirs that go around and impose on an unselfish girl, and " "Listen." said May. "I made a discovery to-day. Do you remember fchai rose-coloured ball-gown of Janet's? The one you'stepped on and tore?" ""Co I?" 'yanet gave it away yesterday to some gjxl to be married in. I could "have fixed it up for myself, too. It makes mc perfectly forions. But wait until I tell you." For three minutes Barton sad May talked in «n undertone. Thm Barton got Hβ. /•>'*£

fiWie "a tamp, May,** he said, *»nd if this was six weeks from now I would loss you. 1. By the next day; the "sbcfch, Jaaefc was liored to distraction. rtiggested i'walkj she consented. " - "You need exercise/ May said-with . sisterly frankness. "You're getting yellow:' A luce-looking- bride" youTT be." And-Janet, pale- and wan, went. The two girls wandered aimlessly for; a time. Once Janet stopped to give alms to a legless beggar who rolled hunpelf around in a small waggon,"and- who rewarded'fhe calloused'- crowd which passed Mm with vituperation. • After a little May led the way to Tenth' Street. "I found a fascinating second-hand shop here," she said over her shoulder, as Janet lagged hahind, "with brass candlesticks and an old mahogany settle. Perhaps yon can pick up something for your house." Janet followed willingly enough, but at tho door of the second-hand shop she 1 balked.

"It looks dirty in there, May/ she said. "I think I'll wait out here. Yon go in; I don't want anything." '"Xook in the windows," May said, and vanished.

Left alone, Janet looked at the co\lection of rubbish around the door, broken chairs, cheap dressers, an old mahogany settle that looked so genuine that one doubted it; then, quite casually, she looked in the window.

It was a very dingy window, and inside, hanging from hooks, spread over boxes', swinging from wire hangers, were, garments—clothing of every kind. But the piece de resistance, hanging well to the front, its soft lines drooping dejectedly, was a pink net mended above the hem, and bearing a card—"Cheap at two-;fifty." Janet's heart stopped and raced on again. There could be no error;, it wa3 her old baa-gown, the one she had given Molly Frnnegan to be married in. And what was that beside it? Janet looked and choked. Her gray tailor gown, unmistakably, labelled: -The swellest thing out. Four-seventy-five." . "And it cost a hundred," Janet thought miserably. Even as she looked a hand reached into the window and took down the grey suit. Evidently "the swellest thing out" was sold. Janet drew a long breath. After that she was scarcely surprised to discover a pair of English ■ checked trousers lying folded for display, flanked on one side by an opera-hat, and on the other by a pair of patent-leather Oxford shoes, almost new. There were other shoes, too, vaguely familiar; in fact, the whole window seemed to. be filled with familiar garments, like the memory of old friends.

And then May came out. She had a, package under her arm, and there was some one vrith hex. Janet blinked hard —she had lost so many illusions—and. recognised Burton.

'•'Think cf my finding him. in there!" said May gaily. ''I bought tack that grey gown, Janet—the one you gave to one of your protegees, you remember. I'm going to have it fumigated. I -would have bought father's shoes—yon know he has been searching fof them high, anil lov,-—but I didnft feel altogether easy as to who might have been wearing them." "Oh, don't!" cried Janet, tortured. Then she held out her hand to Burton, and looked at him for the first time. Her eyes wers defiant, and, more than that, appealing.

It was a critical : moment. Had Burton taken it tc impress the lesson, who what.gjight-lj2.ve jfgppgp~tli_ Cut Bur ton 'was wise; he held her" nana" for a. moment without smiling. May was examining the mahoguny settle with a more than natural interest. "I see now," Janet said lamely, "tliat I hare been a little—reckless in my giving. I —l'm afraid my faith, in human nature is leaving mc. , "Not at all," said Burton cheerfully. "There are plenty of people who need help, and you and I can look them up together. In the meantime there's one poor beggar I know who neede help more than I can tell you. He's starving, famishing, fainting away " Janet's eyes were startled, <f WheTe?" she asked. "Eight before you," said Burton, and £here was no mistaking the thrill in his voice. 'Tm hungry for you, Janet. You're so fond of giving; now give yourself to mc." "Will you hang mc in a second-hand shop?" she flashed. •"My heart is an empty chamber, swept and garnished for you, , " he quoted smiling. "1 wait——"

"Do you care to look at the mahogany settle?" asked a voice behind them. Janet turned with a start. There, prosperous and weli-aproned, was the fortune-telling lady with the large family-

Janet clutched Burton's coat-sleeve, and together they fled.—"American Magazine."