She had me off first base all right, but I don’t think she knew it. Maybe I blinked my eyes a bit, maybe not. I know my self-possession turned a flip-flop. But it landed on its feet in time for me to say, quite casually.
“At about what time this afternoon, Miss Chadwick?”
She looked at her wrist watch.
“Oh, suppose we go get the license about four o’clock, get married at five, say, and go see Herman after we’ve had dinner.”
I thought that over.
“Herman, of course, has told you to call on me?”
She shook her head.
“Nope. I’m doing this on my own. Of course, Herman has insisted on the marriage as you probably know, but that’s neither here nor there. He has me in a position where I just about have to do what he wants — not for my own sake, but for that of my mother — and he’s demanded that we get married.
“He told me this morning that he was afraid you were going to balk on the proposition, and that there was no alternative as far as I was concerned. Either I had to marry you or I could take the consequences, or rather mother could. Naturally, I ran out here to see you, and make sure you didn’t act up at the last minute. Herman gave me the address when I asked for it, and I suppose he knew what I wanted it for, but he didn’t suggest in any way that I come.”
Herman was a foxy bird, all right. He’d taken the precaution of telling this jane that I was not going to play the game, and putting her salvation right straight up to her. I determined to break through that damned air of casual flippancy the jane had. I didn’t believe she looked on the marriage with quite that saucy indifference, particularly after what I’d seen of her when Herman left the room that night at the study.
“So you really want this marriage to take place?”
She grinned, a frank, almost boyish grin. “Good gosh! Have I got to do the proposing and everything? What do you suppose I came around here for? I’ve often thought of my marriage, you know, girls dream a bit about those things, and I’ve always thought of a big church wedding” (her tone grew a bit wistful here) “but I never anticipated having any trouble with a bridegroom who was going to act stubborn. That’s why I dropped around here, to see that you didn’t get rusty at the last minute.”
She beat me. I leaned forward.
“Look here, Miss Chadwick…”
She held up her hand.
“Oh, call me Helen, Ed. Seeing we’ll be man and wife by night, you sound too blamed formal.”
“All right then, Helen; why are you so keen about this marriage?”
She stared straight at me.
“Oh, a variety of reasons. Some of ’em are private and you wouldn’t be interested in them. The rest of them are the usual ones, love at first sight, and all that; and then, I like your dog. A man who picks a dog like that must have something pretty much to him. You see I can read dogs. Can’t I, Bobo? Come over here, boy.”
Damned if he didn’t go to her. I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t seen it.
She bent over him, patting his head, while I looked at the top of her hat, the long, tapering hand, and the garter that always managed to be just barely visible. She was a flapper with a vengeance. And then I saw something else. There was a gleam of light as the reflection of the windows caught on a big, glistening tear that dropped below that hat and stuck on the dog’s head. She patted him casually, putting her hand over the tear, and if I hadn’t been watching sharply I wouldn’t have seen it.
“Helen, do you know what this marriage is going to lead to? Do you know that this man Herman is a crook, a crook of the worst type? Do you know that he’d get you in the devil of a mess without a qualm? Why, girl, after you’d married me your life will be ruined. You can get a divorce, have it annulled or anything you like, but your whole life will be ruined.”
She kept her head down, patting the dog.
“Oh, it’s not that bad. Divorces are fashionable these days. I’m young, and I’m fancy-free, as the old saying has it. How does it go — ‘footloose and fancy-free’ — and there’s mother. Mother isn’t strong and… and… well, I can’t explain it, only to say that I’m in a position where I’d do nothing, anything, to keep this man, Herman, from doing what he might do. He could kill my mother, kill her of heartbreak. He could ruin the memory of my father, when Dad isn’t here to defend himself.”
I thought things over for a minute. Of course, I knew that Herman wouldn’t hesitate a minute to use those notes, nor would he hesitate to ruin the memory of H. Bolton Chadwick, or bring about the death of the widow. There was a fixity of purpose, a ruthlessness of power in those eyes of his when he had dropped the mask for that brief second. The man would stop at nothing.
I tried to get a fatherly attitude with the girl, to make my tone kindly.
“Listen, Helen, I’m not going to marry you, or rather, I’m not going to allow you to marry me. I suggest you go to some competent lawyer and tell him all of the circumstances; tell him just what it is that Herman is holding over you, tell him the whole story, and then see what he advises.”
She looked up at that, and she had managed to get her tears back. Her eyes looked at little swimmy, but they were clear and bright.
“Thanks for that, Ed,” she said simply. “I’ve been to father’s lawyer, and I find that he has known of the particular club that Herman is holding over my head. He has known of it and feared it. If father’d lived he’d have straightened the thing out all right, but he had to die just when his affairs were all tangled up… I’m sorry, Ed, but there’s nothing more that can be done. I’ve got to go through with it.”
She looked at me dreamily for a second or two and then went on, casually, impersonally: “I’d come prepared to hate you, and to go through with it, anyhow. You’d never even have known I hated you; I’d have been that good a sport, because it wasn’t you that made the proposition. Thank God, I can get along without that hate in my heart. You’re clean, Ed, and you’re a gentleman, regardless of what else you may be. I can tell a man from his dog, as well as his manner.”
I fought back a desire to put my hand on her shoulder. The blamed little kid was such a dead game sport, such a regular little fellow, that I found myself getting sympathetic in spite of myself. The only time she’d lost control of herself and dropped a tear or two she’d taken good care that I hadn’t seen her, or thought she had. I’d been expecting the jane would pass the buck up to me to get her out of her difficulty, would cry, and mumble things about death being preferable to dishonor, and what should she do, Oh, my God, what should she do, and all the rest of it. Here came this quiet little sport, put the cards down on the table, and even ducked her head when she felt the weeps coming.
“Well,” I said finally, “I’m not going to let you marry me, but I’ll see what can be done about helping you out.”
She shook her head, quickly, fiercely.
“Ed, please, please, don’t make it harder. You can’t understand what it’s all about, and there’s nothing you can do. Ed, I’ve been square. I’ve seen a lot of life, but I’ve played on the square. I’ve been saving myself for the man I was to love, and you don’t know, you can’t know what it means, but there’s no other way out. There’s nothing you or anyone else can do. I’ve got to go ahead with it. Please, please don’t make it any harder. I’m old enough to know my own mind. I know what I’m up against. You’re just going to add more to my burden than I can stand if I have to beg or plead with you.”