"I"m not a ghost," he cried. "You look at me as if I had crept out of my grave."
She looked again at the telegram. "Why, David," she began falteringly.
Then her face cleared. A glad smile broke over it, and both her hands were extended. "It really _is_ you? I am not seeing visions? Yes, you are flesh and blood! You dear, dear David! I am _so_ glad to see you.
How does it happen that you are here? Where do you come from and--" She went on with the eagerness of a child, asking more questions than he could remember, much less answer. "And how wonderfully you have grown up!"
"I have seen Christine," he said eagerly. "She is perfection--she is marvelous."
"Seen her? Where? But we cannot talk here. We must have hours and hours all by ourselves. Come to my father"s house to-night. We are living with him, you know. There is so much that we have to tell each other--all that has happened in the five long years."
"I am here solely to remind you that the five years are ended, Mrs.
Braddock. Mahomet has come to the mountain, you see."
Her face clouded. She glanced quickly through the window. His gaze followed hers. Christine and young Stanfield were driving away together in a hansom. He read her thoughts. "I"ll take my chances," he remarked confidently.
"I know that she has not forgotten, David," she said after a moment of deliberation, "but--well, I will be frank with you. She has suddenly shot past my comprehension. It is the privilege of a girl to change her mind, you know, when she changes the length of her frocks."
"You haven"t changed, have you?" he asked bluntly. She stared. "I?"
"I mean, you are still my champion?"
"Of course," she replied readily.
"Then, as I said before, I"ll take my chances with the rest. I"ll not hold her to that girlhood bargain. That would be unfair. But, if you"ll permit me, I"ll go in and win her as she is to-day--if I can."
She smiled at his ardor. "I hope you may win, David. But you must win for yourself. Do not look to me for help. She must decide for herself."
He did not refer to the young man who had taken her away in the cab.
Mrs. Braddock noted this and was not slow to divine the well-bred restraint that lay behind the omission.
"That was young Stanfield," she observed. "He is delightful. My father is devoted to him."
David smiled. "I hope to have the pleasure of meeting him soon."
"You may meet to-night."
If she expected to see a trace of annoyance in his face, she was disappointed. He gracefully confessed his interest in the prospective meeting.
"I shall be more than delighted to come," he said.
"And I am glad he will be there to engage Christine"s attention while I devote myself to you, Mrs. Braddock."
"You nice boy!"
She extended her hand. "I must not keep my father waiting out there.
You don"t know how glad I am that you are here, David." Suddenly a wave of red mounted to her cheek; an expression of utter loathing came into her deep eyes. In some alarm he glanced over his shoulder.
Colonel Grand was standing at the door through which she would have to pa.s.s. He was not looking at her, but his motive in placing himself there was only too plain.
"Confound him!" involuntarily fell from David"s lips.
"If he dares to address me--" she began, her face going white. "David, I have not seen that man since the day I left the show. Why is he here to-day? Is it to annoy--to torment me in--"
"He won"t do that," announced David firmly.
"I have a strange foreboding, David,--of evil, of something dreadful.
Perhaps it is due to the unexpected sight of--his horrid face. I--"
"That"s it," said he promptly. Nevertheless, a slight chill entered his heart. There was Tom Braddock to be considered. "I"ll come early to-night, if I may," he said, more soberly than he meant. "There are some very important things to discuss. Now I"ll take you to your carriage."
During their talk she had absently folded the telegram. He observed it in her hand and said:
"The telegram--don"t forget that, Mrs. Braddock."
Her smile was enigmatic. With a diverted smile for the waiting clerk she said: "I shall not send it, after all."
David walked with her to the door. They pa.s.sed so close to Colonel Grand that David"s elbow touched his arm, but neither of them looked at him. She hastily entered the waiting carriage, a sort of panic overtaking her.
Thrusting the crumpled bit of paper into David"s hand, her eyes steadfastly held against the impulse to look at the satiric figure in the doorway, she said in a half-whisper:
"Take it, David--and come to-night."
He stood there with his hat in his hand as the carriage drove off, sorely perplexed by her action. Suddenly a light broke in upon his understanding. He spread out the small sheet and read:
"The five years have pa.s.sed. I redeem my promise. You are not obliged to keep yours, however." It was signed "Mary Braddock."
Colonel Grand was smiling sardonically in the doorway.
CHAPTER V
THE LOVE THAT WAS STAUNCH
"I shall depend on you, David, to bring my husband here to see me.
Search for him until you find him."
The white-faced, distressed woman said this to David Jenison a few hours later in the Portman library. They sat alone in the half-light.
Stanfield"s married sister had taken Christine off earlier in the evening, to a concert. Mrs. Braddock, in a spirit of whimsicality, forbore mentioning the appearance of David to the girl, planning to surprise her when she returned from the concert. If David was disappointed at not finding her, he went to considerable pains to hide the fact from the mother. As a matter of fact he was secretly relieved, strange as it may seem, after the first shock of disappointment.
Christine"s absence was providential, after all. He had ugly news for Mrs. Braddock; he could wait on the opportunity to see Christine, but what he had to say to the mother could not be put off for a moment.
He had gone at once to his room in the hotel after leaving Mrs.
Braddock at the ferry. He was startled almost out of his boots by the discovery that d.i.c.k Cronk was there ahead of him, calmly occupying the easiest chair and reading the evening paper. A skeleton key had provided the means of admission to the room; a brave heart and cunning brain did the rest.
d.i.c.k"s news created great unrest in David"s breast. Braddock, it appeared, had gone, early in the afternoon, to the apartment hotel in which Grand lived. Fortunately the Colonel was not about the place.
d.i.c.k, on missing the ex-convict, had hurried at once to Grand"s hotel, finding his man there, seated in the small lobby, a sinister example of respectability, waiting patiently for the return of his enemy. The self-appointed guardian coaxed him away from the place, conducting him to the cheap, ill-favored thieves" lodging-house where he had taken a single room for temporary occupancy. Braddock, after a show of obduracy, finally had consented to make an effort to see his wife before visiting his wrath upon Colonel Grand.
d.i.c.k informed David: "He"s set on doing something nasty, kid, that"s all there is to it. He _won"t_ be turned aside. Those years in the pen have put something into his backbone that never was there before. Maybe Mrs. Braddock can talk him out of it, but I dunno. She always had influence over him, but that was before he took to getting tight. It"s different now. If we can"t do anything else we"ll have to warn Grand, that"s all. I hate to do it, but--I guess it"s the only way left."