American fiction -- 19th century; California -- Social life and customs -- Fiction; Short stories; Western stories
On the contrary, prolonging his stay at the hotel with plausible
reasons, he managed to frequently visit the committee room or its
vicinity, at different and unsuspected hours of the day and night.
More than that, he found opportunities to visit the office, and under
pretexts of business connected with the economy of the hotel management,
informed himself through Miss Marsh on many points. A few of these
details naturally happened to refer to herself, her prospects, her
tastes, and education. He learned incidentally, what he had partly
known, that her father had been in better circumstances, and that she
had been gently nurtured--though of this she made little account in her
pride in her own independence and devotion to her duties. But in his
own persistent way he also made private notes of the breadth of her
shoulders, the size of her waist, her height, length of her skirt, her
movements in walking, and other apparently extraneous circumstances. It
was natural that he acquired some supplemental facts,--that her
eyes, under her eye-glasses, were a tender gray, and touched with the
melancholy beauty of near-sightedness; that her face had a sensitive
mobility beyond the mere charm of color, and like most people lacking
this primitive and striking element of beauty, what was really fine
about her escaped the first sight. As, for instance, it was only
by bending over to examine her accounts that he found that her
indistinctive hair was as delicate as floss silk and as electrical. It
was only by finding her romping with the children of a guest one evening
that he was startled by the appalling fact of her youth! But about this
time he left the hotel and returned to his house.
On the first yearly anniversary of the great strike at Excelsior there
were some changes in the settlement, notably the promotion of Mr. Marsh
to a more important position in the company, and the installation of
Miss Cassie Marsh as manageress of the hotel. As Miss Marsh read the
official letter, signed by the president, conveying in complimentary but
formal terms this testimony of their approval and confidence, her lip
trembled slightly, and a tear trickling from her light lashes dimmed
her eye-glasses, so that she was fain to go up to her room to recover
herself alone. When she did so she was startled to find a wire dummy
standing near the door, and neatly folded upon the bed two elegant
dresses. A note in the president's own hand lay beside them. A swift
blush stung her cheek as she read,--
DEAR MISS MARSH,--Will you make me happy by keeping the secret that no
other woman but yourself knows, and by accepting the clothes that no
other woman but yourself can wear?
The next moment, with the dresses over her arm and the ridiculous dummy
swinging by its wires from her other hand, she was flying down the
staircase to Committee Room No. 4. The door opened upon its sole
occupant, the president.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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