Mate selection -- Fiction; Women -- Suffrage -- United States -- Fiction; Young women -- Fiction
"What's the matter with going out in my car this afternoon?" he asked.
But she put him off until the next day. She was thinking that she must
brace the house up and arrange for a rattling good supper! "We'll have a
big fire," she thought, cozily, "and we'll sit up and talk till all's
blue.... You'll stay all night?" she said. "I've a very decent little
guest-room."
For once she startled him, but her frank gaze made him almost ashamed of
his instinctive sense of fitness. He said no, he wouldn't stay all
night; he had to be on hand very early the next morning to look after a
consignment of freight. "But I'll turn up at Payton Street in the car
to-morrow afternoon, about four. Is that right?"
"Just right," she said. She had decided quickly that she would send
Flora out Friday morning with provisions. "I bet he'll take notice when
I feed him!" she thought. "What kind of a salad shall I have? Not one of
those footling 'ladies' luncheon' things, all nuts and apples and
stuffed truck. Men want just lettuce or tomatoes. No fancy doings!"
She was anxious to get rid of him and go home and make her plans. It
occurred to her to ask her mother what kind of cheese a man would like.
But no, that would involve her in a lot of talk about "propriety." She
nodded to him over her shoulder as he left the office, and the next
minute she heard the elevator door clang behind him. Then, with a
furtive glance about the room, as if to make sure she was alone, she
stooped and picked up that half-burnt match which had lighted his
cigarette.... For a minute she held it in her hand, then laughed,
shamefacedly, and put it in her pocket-book. Her face was vivid with
happiness. She pulled down the top of her desk, then flung it up again,
and scrawled on one of her business cards: "Closed until Monday
morning." "I'll stick that in the door," she said; "I sha'n't be able to
spare a minute for the office to-morrow." But, despite her haste, she
stood for a dreamy moment smiling into space. Then she sat down in her
revolving chair and sunk her chin on her fist.
_He couldn't stand it any longer!_
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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