AN AMERICAN STORY:

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XXXV, Issue 18, 4 November 1905, Page 6

AN AMERICAN STORY:

Wherein a Wise Young Business Man in Love Displays His Practical Side

By

TOM MASSON

/&. PATTER GSON stood on the piazza of the Crest View House, look- - ing out over the ocean. A blueII II II [| f]~ flannel coat hung in graceful lines over his athletic shoulders. A pair ,1 JJJ of white - flannel trousers correctly covered his Apollo legs. In his hand he idly swung a golf club. His face, browned to a mahogany tint by the summer sun, was strong and self-pos-sessed. Henry Bronson, screened from the glare of the beach, sat in a large wicker chair on the piazza about thirty feet away from Patterson, smoking his morninw cigar. Bronson -was about sixty years ° old. He had a well-kept but grizzly beard. His face was aggressive, but. his eye, though keen, kas kindly. There were moments when Bronson was fierce. He could look one clear through. And yet always, stowed away somewhere under his closely buttoned coat, one felt sure there was a large manly heart. Patterson turned for an instant to look through the door into the hotel lobby. As he did so he caught sight of Bronson. He bowed, raising his hand to his cap in military style. The old man motioned to him. There was no one else about. Most of the guests were either eating a late breakfast or were strolling down to the beach. "(lood-morning, sir. Sit down.” Patterson sat down. Tor a moment the two heavy chairs rocked simultaneously. Finally Patterson spoke: “I was looking for your daughter, sir.” “So I thought. She has gone for her golf clothes. I believe that she is going to play golf this morning with some- • With me, sir.” “I’m. You play a good game of golf. Margaret says you play what she is pleased to term a rattling game.” “I have devoted some attention to it.” "You won the cup the other day. didn’t you?” “Yes.'” “Made it in ” ■Eighty-three bogey.” "I believe yon are also a good swimmer.” “Fair. I’m fond of the water.” "Wasn’t that yon yesterday swim ming about half a mile out?” “Yes, sir.” “Dangerous sport that. Foolish, with this undertow.” “Last week I swam out to the lightship.” “How far is that?” “Oh. two and a half miles.” “I'm. You play tennis, don’t you? Didn’t f see you in the court yester“Yes. sir.” “Play a pretty good game?” “Fair. Beaten in the doubles; won in the singles. Guess I’m as good as the average.” Bronson turned his face so that lie could look Patterson through. 1 judge from what my daughter says that you are a pretty good hand at making love.” “Fair, sir, fair.” There was a brief silence. Patterson meditatively tapped the tip of his russet slum with his golf club. Bronson puffed his cigar faster than usual. Then lie spoke again. “Young man, I rather like you. But 1 should like to ask you a question. Yon are here, I believe, on a vacation.”

“I am.” “Two weeks?” "Two weeks.” “Then you must be engaged in some business.” “I am, sir.” “Very well then. Now what I want to know is this- if you are such a first-class golf player, such a good tennis player, such a good swimmer, and know how to make love as well as you seem to, how, sir, have you had time to do anything else?” This question seemed to disconcert Patterson to an unusual degree—for him. He frowned. He straightened back his shoulders. He raised his head in the air. He looked at Bronson almost severely. “Your daughter must have been telling you that I am going to marry her.” “No such thing, no such thing! You marry her? That’s news to me. Ha!” “Then yon must have spoken to her about it?” “Look here, my young friend? I’m not going to be cross-examined by you — not at my time of life.” “I beg your pardon, sir. You did not understand me. What 1 mean is this. If Miss Margaret herself has spoken to you about me, she has done something which was wrong, however innocently she may have acted, because this ought to be my privilege.

I should dislike to have you think for one moment that I would permit her to do something that is solely my duty. But if, on the hand, you have first spoken to her, and asked her the question as to who I am, then you are doing no more than I should expect you to do. lou are doing no more than I have done in your case.” Bronson’s face turned decidedly red. He was plainly becoming angry. “No more than yon have done? What do yon mean, sir? You don’t mean to tell me that you have had the effrontery to look me up.” “Certainly.” “What? You impudent young whippersnapper! How dare you do such a thing? I shall refuse to permit my daughter to’ have anything more to do with you. You are an insolent puppy, sir. Goodmorning, sir!” Bronson rose from his chair. He puffed savagely at his cigar, emitting clouds of smoke. He began to pace the piazza. By his side paced Patterson, in perfect

step. When Bronson increased his pace, Patterson increased his. When Bronson slowed down, Patterson slowed down. Thus they walked for some time. No word was spoken. Up and down, up and down, they went, until finally at a remote end of the piazza the elder man turned once more upon his companion. “Young man, perhaps I was too hastv. But your manner irritated me extremely. I don’t know when I have been so coolly insulted. I am not used to being patronised. sir. If you wish to continue your attentions to my daughter, you may do so. I’ve brought her up to think for herself, and I believe she is amply able to take care of herself.” Patterson held out his hand. “It was my fault, sir. 1 was the one to blame. 1 didn’t mean to be insolent. The fact is, I had a great deal at stake. I shouldn’t think of going near Miss Margaret, unless I had your sanction. I wanted your approval. I was, perhaps, too anxious to have you believe that I knew what I was about, and it rubbed me the wrong way to feel that the wind had been taken out of my sails—that Miss Margaret should have even mentioned the subject, when I should have been the one. Will you forgive me, sir?” “Ha! That’s better. Now be kind enough to tell me why you looked me up. and pray, sir, how did you do it?* “It was this way. I never met a girl in my life that I took to the way I did to Miss Margaret. She—you’ve been in love, haven’t you. Mr. Bronson?” The old man’s face lighted up with a reminiscent look. Back over the long years his mind sped. He was a young man again. The sweet face of Margaret s mother, now only a hallowed memory, rose before him. He cleared his throat. “Yes. yes!” he said, with an assumption of impatience. “I realised, almost when it W-s too late, that I was getting terribly in love with your daughter, and that I must either'quit altogether for my own peace of mind, or else be in a position to go in and win her. Suppose I had gone on blindly and so far that my bridges were all burned behind me? Now you know that multi-millionaires are as thick as thieves. How did I know but you were one? I felt, simply as a matter of business —f or there is a business end to real love —that I ought to know whether, by asking your daughter to marry. I could hope to do as well by her as you were doing.” ( “And what did you find out? ’ “Oh, I merely sent to town, made a few inquiries about you, found that you were comfortably off and a man of honour and repute, and it then seemed to me that I had a perfect Tight to go in and win—if I could.” “Don’t you think that was taking an unfair advantage of me—of us?” “Not necessarily, sir. You see, I already had looked myself up.” “Um. And you believed you filled the bill? You haven’t a very small opinion of yourself, have you? Suppose we didn’t happen to agree with you?” “I know. Mr. Bronson, that all this must look to you as if I was a conceited prig, and I’m sorry—truly sorry, because I never come up to what I hope to be. Yet I have never done anything that I am ashamed of. I’ve done my best to make a success of myself. And I suppose I have acquired a certain amount of confidence.” “Suppose that Margaret and I —or let us say Margaret herself —should decide that you were not the right sort of young man —that you wouldn’t fill the bill—what then?” Patterson’s eyes glistened. “I don’t think I should ever give her up, sir. I suppose it’s my nature to fight. And

if it’s a losing game, I’ll fight all the harder.” “Do you think you are worthy of my daughter?” “No, sir. I’ve never met any man who was.” Bronson lighted another cigar. Then he motioned Patterson to sit down. Together they rocked once more, looking over the distant sand-dunes, with the roar of the ocean in their ears “My boy,” said Bronson, “now I’ll tell you my side. When you arrived at this hotel ten days ago, and began to play golf and tennis, and sit on the beach and make love to my little girl, I watched you at first out of the corner of my eye with considerable interest, but no concern whatever. Boys will be boys, and girls will be girls. I was young myself once. Besides, my experience is that when you have to watch a girl too hard she'll fool you anyway. That’s the way I've brought up Margaret—to take care of herself. Her mother died when she was only 15, which was—well, it was more or less of a tragedy for both of us. 1 knew, of course, that some day some young chap would come along and carry her off, and when that time came I wanted Margaret to be able to decide the question for herself. And so I began by trusting her, and it wasn’t very long before, knowing that I was- trust ing her. she felt the responsibility. The result was that I have never had the slightest doubt but that, when the inevitable moment did come, she would be able to make a wise choice. Not only this, but I’ve brought her up to be more or less of a business woman. She has been my private secretary; I’ve taught her to manage accounts. Allot which has made her judgment worth while. Would not think it, would you?” “No, sir. I never suspected that in her.”

“Well, it’s true. It’s the American way. It’s the right way, too. And now I want to tell you that she didn’t speak to me first about this matter. I saw yesterday that something was troubling her. I suspected that it might be you. for- I know Margaret pretty well, and saw that she was more than usually interested in vou. So I spoke to her ab ut it.” “Did she tell you that I had asked her to marry me?” “Yes.” “And that she had ” “She said to me, young man. what I have just said to you. She said: ‘How can a man who plays golf so well, swims so well, and does other things so well, have had any time to do anything else?’ .The idea was original with her. She wanted to know-. Being an American girl, she asked a purely American question. And so I called vou over this morning to find out.” Patterson smiled. “You are both perfectly right.” he said. “I asked Miss Margaret to marry me, and she said it was entirely out of the question; and when I persisted she told me she would think it over. Now I understand. She wants to know me better. There is only one way to do this, sir, and that is— ah. hero she comes now!” Bronson and Patterson both rose as Miss Margaret came forward. “Ah I late?” she inquired. “Too late for golf,” said Patterson. “But never mind. We can go to the beach.” He raised his hat to Bronson. “With your permission, sir.” “Certainly, sir. I see the New York papers are just coming in.” They strolled down on the sand and sat just far enough away from the bathers to hear each other’s voices. “I’ve been talking with your father, Miss Margaret.”

*1 knew von had. J saw it in his fIHV.” “I told him lhat 1 loved you.” •'And what did he ?ay?” “He said it uas a question for you to decide.’’ “That’s just like papa. lie trusts me so.” “It makes you feel the responsibility, does it not?’’ “Yes.” “Is that why yon have not been willing to give me your answer?” "Pos-ib’y. 1 might disappoint myself, \ou know; but I couldn't afford to disappoint papa.’’ ■“You didn’t tell me that before, Miss Margaret •*’ “1 couldn't. 1 was afraid you would not understand. You might have thought mew ‘Too practical?” “Well, yes.” “That only makes me love you all the more. I supposed a great many girls take things too much for granted. They meet a man and fall in love and marry him, knowing absolutely nothing about him.” “I suppose so.” “You don’t care for money, do you, Miss Margaret?” “1 have never thought about it.” “But naturally you wouldn't marry a man who couldn’t support you.” “Probably not.” “1 think J understand what you mean. The man’s manner of making money would count a great (leal, would it not? You wouldn't care to marry a . quack doctor, even if he was making a. million a year.” • Hardly.” “Miss Margaret, 1 want you to know about me. I want you to judge for yourself. It’s an important thing to marry the right man. It’s important for the man also. 1 want to make a success of my life. It was right of you to wonder how a man could play golf and tennis and swim and yet amount to anything else. And you shall know. To-morrow my vacation is over. I go back to town. I want you to visit me at my office. Will you do it?” She. looked at him. “At your office?” “(’erlainly. In no other way can you judge of me so well.” “But ” “Your father tells me you have kepi, his accounts. You can present yourself ns a yonr<g woman who has a business engagement- with me: you .thus will bo itbl“ to observe me and judge whether 1 am the sort of man lhat your father would approve of as your husband. Will you fOiiM*?’’

The girl at his side looked out over the distant stretch of water. “It is lather startling,” she replied. “And yet why not? I’ll think it over.” One week later at precisely nine o'clock in the morning Patterson entered bis office. On the door in small black letters was the word “Manager.” t He touched a bell, and a girl of twenty-tivc appeared. “Miss Rose, 1 am expecting a young woman this morning. I wish to make her acquainted with our office work, with a possible view to a permanent position. When she comes show her in.” “Very well, sir.” 'l'he firm of which Patterson was the manager occupied the entire building, Patterson’s office was on the fifth floor. A hundred clerks ami book-keepers, arranged in serried rows of desks, with huge books beside them, were all under his eye. Miss Rose entered. “The young lady is here, sir.” “Show her in. Also bring in the mail.” There was the rustle of a skirt, 1 he door opened and Miss Maiga ret Bronson entered. Patterson held out his hand cordially. “Miss Margaret, good morning. Yon are prompt.” He bent over her hand. “It isn’t business,” he said, “just, now, but —I. love you!” Aliss Rose entered with an armful of mail which she deposited on Patterson's desk. “Miss Bronson, this is ’Miss Rose. Miss Bronson will remain here long enough to got an idea of the business. Give her any information she asks for.” The telephone bell at Patterson's desk rang. He answered it.. “Hello, Mr Peters! How do you do, sir. Yes, sir, seventy thousand is our lowest figure. Aery well, sir, you may see the head of the.firm about it, but it will do you no good. What’s that? Yes, my price. Think it over. Drop in. No, that s final. Good-bye.”. He turned to Miss Rose. “Make a memorandum that Mr Peters wished a reduction of ton thousand dollars, which 1 refused, and put it on Mr Leighton’s desk.” “Mr Leighton,” he explained, “is the head of the firm.” He. rose and showed Miss Bronson to the door of his office, where they could look out over the floor. “In a large manufacturing concern like ours,” he said, “where goods are being shipped all over the world, systemi is everything. Here for instance is an adding-machine that saves us incalculable labour. Then every, bookkeeper has a telephone at his desk by which he can communicate with every department. Now if you will excuse me v. hile I look over the mail I will ask Miss Rose to show you round.” Miss Rose was poJite ami communicative. “You couldn’t have a nicer man to work for than Mr Patterson,” she said. “I don’t know what he intends you to do —1 believe he said something about,-bookkeeping or accounts. ’ “What is his position here?” “Oh. he is the manager. Ho has been here only three years, but he has completely revolutionised the business.” "He must get a good salary.” “Twelve thousand a year.” \fter going through the various departments, they went back to Patterson's office. While they were gone that young man had gone rapidly through his mail, answered three telephone calls, sent four telegrams and math* an engagement to play golf Saturday afternoon. As they came in he c.dled a boy. “Is Mr Leighton in?” “Very well. I have an appointment with him in five minutes. Miss Margaret. what do you think of our business?” “It is wonderful.” “Xow I want tn take you in to see Mr Leighton. I have told him about you.” They went upstairs in the elevator to a light airy room done in light mahogany, with oil paintings on |h ( ‘ wall and a general air of luxury about it. A tall soldierly man rose as they entered. “Ah, Gilbert, good-morning.” “Good-morning, Mr Leighton. Permit, me to introduce you Io Miss Bronson.’’ “Mbs Bronson, I am pleased to meet you. Mr Patterson has told me about you." he added, significantly. “What do you think of our business?” “It is splendid wonderful.” “Did you know that your father waa

one of the stockholders in our company?” "1 did not know it until papa told me last night.” The hell rang. ■■Come in,” said Leighton. Bronson entered. "Ah, Ja-ighton. good-morning. Well, Margaret, you got here before me. How are you, Mr Patterson?” "(lood-morning, sir.” Leighton turned to Bronson. “I was just asking your (laughter if she knew you were one of our stockholders, but (lid not tell her that during the past two years your stock had almost doubled in value.” He put his hand on Gilbert Patterson's shoulder. “All due to this young man,” he said. "We were getting into a rut, when lie stepped in and put some new blood into us.” Bronson’s grizzled face lighted up. “Do you know what 1 asked him a week ago ?’’ "No, sir. What was your question?” “I said to him: ‘Young man, how is it that a chap like you can play golf and tennis so well, swim so well’ he winked at LeigTiton—‘make love so well. - and find time to do anything, else?’ ” Leighton smiled. “That, sir,” he replied, “is the American way. When he plays golf he plays it for ail he’s worth, when he puts his mind on business he

does it for all he's worth, and unless I’m very much in error, sir, when lie makes love he makes it for all he’s worth. Eh, Gilbert?”