The Golden Slipper, and Other Problems for Violet StrangeGreen, Anna Katharine
General
The Golden Slipper, and Other Problems for Violet Strange
Green, Anna Katharine
Detective and mystery stories, American
Next minute my last doubt fled! She had fallen her length on the floor
and lay with her face buried in her hands in a dead faint.
Oh, Roger, Roger, Roger! I had that dear head on my breast in a moment.
I talked to her, I whispered prayers in her unconscious ear. I did
everything I should not have done till they all thought me demented.
When she came to, as she did under other ministrations than mine, I
was for carrying her off in my limousine. But she shook her head with
a gesture of such disapproval, that I realized I could not do that. The
limousine was my father’s, and nothing of his was ever to be used for
her again. I would call a cab; but she told me that she had not the
money to pay for it and she would not take mine. Carfare she had; five
cents would take her home. I need not worry.
She smiled as she said this and for an instant I saw my dream-sister
again in this weary half-disheartened woman. But the smile was a
fleeting one, for this was to be her last day in the store; she had no
talent as a saleswoman and was merely working out her week.
I felt my heart sink heavily at this, for the evidences of poverty
were plainly to be seen in her clothes and the thinness of her face and
figure. How could I help? What could I do? I took her to a restaurant
for food and talk, and before she would order, she looked into her
purse, with the result that we had only a little toast and tea. It was
all she could afford and I, with a hundred dollars in bills at that
moment in my bag, could not offer her anything more though she was
needing nourishment and dishes piled with savoury meats were going by us
every moment.
I think, if she had let me, I would have dared my father’s displeasure
and been disobedient to his wishes by giving her one wholesome meal.
But she was as resolute of mind as he, and, as she said afterwards,
had chosen her course in life and must abide by it. My love she would
accept. It took nothing from Father and gave her what her heart was
pining for--had pined for for years. But nothing more--not another thing
more. She would not even let me go home with her; and I knew why when
her eyes fell at the searching look I gave her. Something would turn
up, and when her husband’s health was better and she had found another
position she would send me her address and then I could come and see
her. As we walked out of the restaurant we ran against a gentleman
I knew. He stopped me for a passing word and in that minute she
disappeared. I did not try to follow her. I could get her street and
number from the store where she had worked.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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