Love stories; Unmarried mothers -- Fiction; Women household employees -- Fiction
“Be sure and tell me when you decide,” he laughed, and passed on to be
presented to distinguished strangers by Mrs. De Lincum who aided Mrs.
Gerald in receiving.
The talk was stimulating. Lester was always at his ease intellectually,
and this mental atmosphere revived him. Presently he turned to greet
Berry Dodge, who was standing at his elbow.
Dodge was all cordiality. “Where are you now?” he asked. “We haven’t
seen you in—oh, when? Mrs. Dodge is waiting to have a word with you.”
Lester noticed the change in Dodge’s attitude.
“Some time, that’s sure,” he replied easily. “I’m living at the
Auditorium.”
“I was asking after you the other day. You know Jackson Du Bois? Of
course you do. We were thinking of running up into Canada for some
hunting. Why don’t you join us?”
“I can’t,” replied Lester. “Too many things on hand just now. Later,
surely.”
Dodge was anxious to continue. He had seen Lester’s election as a
director of the C. H. & D. Obviously he was coming back into the world.
But dinner was announced and Lester sat at Mrs. Gerald’s right hand.
“Aren’t you coming to pay me a dinner call some afternoon after this?”
asked Mrs. Gerald confidentially when the conversation was brisk at the
other end of the table.
“I am, indeed,” he replied, “and shortly. Seriously, I’ve been wanting
to look you up. You understand though how things are now?”
“I do. I’ve heard a great deal. That’s why I want you to come. We need
to talk together.”
Ten days later he did call. He felt as if he must talk with her; he was
feeling bored and lonely; his long home life with Jennie had made hotel
life objectionable. He felt as though he must find a sympathetic,
intelligent ear, and where better than here? Letty was all ears for his
troubles. She would have pillowed his solid head upon her breast in a
moment if that had been possible.
“Well,” he said, when the usual fencing preliminaries were over, “what
will you have me say in explanation?”
“Have you burned your bridges behind you?” she asked.
“I’m not so sure,” he replied gravely. “And I can’t say that I’m
feeling any too joyous about the matter as a whole.”
“I thought as much,” she replied. “I knew how it would be with you. I
can see you wading through this mentally, Lester. I have been watching
you, every step of the way, wishing you peace of mind. These things are
always so difficult, but don’t you know I am still sure it’s for the
best. It never was right the other way. It never could be. You couldn’t
afford to sink back into a mere shell-fish life. You are not organized
temperamentally for that any more than I am. You may regret what you
are doing now, but you would have regretted the other thing quite as
much and more. You couldn’t work your life out that way—now, could
you?”
“I don’t know about that, Letty. Really, I don’t. I’ve wanted to come
and see you for a long time, but I didn’t think that I ought to. The
fight was outside—you know what I mean.”
“Yes, indeed, I do,” she said soothingly.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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