"What the d.i.c.kens is to pay?"
That gentleman chose to make things more comfortable before he answered.
He unceremoniously appropriated sofa and cushions for the almost fainting girl, and said, peremptorily:
"Bring a gla.s.s of water. Mr. Hastings, that fan if you please. Don"t be alarmed, Mrs. Hastings, she will be all right in a few moments."
Then there was no resisting the storm of questions that followed, and he told the story as briefly as possible, only trying to impress one thought, that liquor was at the bottom of what had so nearly been a tragedy. Dora revived sufficiently to impress the fact that but for _him_ she would not have been there to speak; and Mr. Hastings, in his excitement and exasperation against poor Jonas, whose quarter paid for the liquor which had almost brought death into their home, and would help to swell Mr. Hastings" own cash account on this Sat.u.r.day evening, recognized in this deliverer of his child poor, ignorant, degraded Tode Mall, and forgot the lapse of time and possible changes of position, and seeking to do him honor, and do a safe thing for his family at the same time, spoke hurriedly:
"Where is that villain of a coachman? I"ll discharge him this very hour.
You must be a good driver, Tode, or you never could have got here alive with _those_ horses after such a time. Don"t you want the position of coachman?"
"Papa," said Dora, sitting erect, and with scarlet cheeks, "Mr. Mallery is Mr. S. S. Stephens" confidential clerk!"
Then the great man turned and looked on his ex-waiter at the Euclid House--the erect, well-built, well-dressed young man, standing hat in hand, with a curious blending of dignity and amus.e.m.e.nt on his face, and actually stammered, and muttered something about "not noticing, not thinking, not meaning, and everlasting obligations," in the midst of which the ex-coachman glanced at his watch, noticed the lateness of the hour in some dismay, signaled from the window a pa.s.sing car, and hurriedly made his escape.
This lengthy and unexpected interruption made a grievous tangle in his day"s work. Arrived at the store he flew about in eager haste, and then rushed with more than usual speed to the bank. Just five minutes too late; the last shutter was being closed as he reached the steps. "The first failure!" he said to himself in a disappointed tone. "But it can hardly be said to be my fault this time." His next engagement was an appointment to dine with Mr. Stephens at four o"clock, and with that, too, he was a little behind time.
"Well, sir," said Mr. Stephens, meeting him in the hall, "as sure as I"m alive you are five minutes behind time! I begin to be encouraged. It seems that you _are_ a compound of flesh and blood after all."
Theodore smiled faintly; his peril was too recent for him to have regained his usual demeanor.
"Here is your mail," he said, pa.s.sing over a handful of letters and papers. "By being ten minutes late I was enabled to get the latest news, and I see there is a Lyons letter among them."
"Ah," said Mr. Stephens, "that is fortunate for Lyons. Suppose we step into the library, Mallery, and see what they say for themselves."
So the two pa.s.sed into the business room and ran over the contents of the letter in question, as well as several others, conversing together in a manner which showed that the younger man had a marked knowledge of the other"s business affairs, and that his opinions were listened to as if they carried weight with them.
"But the mail was not what detained me," said Theodore, presently. "And Mr. Stephens, I was too late for the bank."
"Well, it will do to-morrow, will it not?" queried the elder gentleman, composedly.
"Oh yes, sir, it will _do_; but then you know it is not the way in which we do business."
Mr. Stephens laughed.
"I used to consider myself the most prompt and particular man living,"
he said, gaily; "but I believe you are going to make one several notches above me. I am really curious to know what has thrown you out of your orbit this afternoon."
Theodore"s face flushed.
"I have been permitted to prevent a murder this afternoon, even after a father had furnished the weapons for his daughter"s destruction," he said, speaking sharply. He was very savage on that question of intemperance.
"Horrible!" said Mr. Stephens, looking aghast. "Mallery, what _do_ you mean?"
And then followed a recital of the afternoon"s adventures. Had Theodore Mallery been the hero of a first-cla.s.s novel he would have remained modestly and obstinately silent about a matter in which he had taken so prominent a part, but being very like a flesh and blood young man, it did not occur to him to hesitate or stammer--in fact he thought he had succeeded in doing a good brave deed, and he was very glad and thankful.
Presently they left the library and went toward the parlor.
"Do you know I have another guest to-day?" asked Mr. Stephens, as they went down the hall together. "A Mr. Ryan, a lawyer. I think you are not acquainted with him."
"Ryan!" said Theodore, looking puzzled and racking his memory. "The name sounds familiar, but--oh!" and then he laughed, "Edgar Ryan?"
"The same. Do you know him?"
"Why, yes, sir. I used to know him very well; served him every day at the Euclid House."
"Did you indeed! Well, I know very little about him, save that his father was a good friend to me once."
When Mr. Stephens presented his confidential clerk to Mr. Ryan there was a start, a look of bewilderment and confused recollection, accompanied by a sudden roguish twinkle of recognition, and then the polished lawyer became oblivious to the existence of "Tode Mall," and "Habakkuk," and "bottles," and greeted "Mr. Mallery" in a manner that became a guest of Mr. Stephens, toward Mr. Stephens" honored clerk. Then they all went out to dinner. And the dinner progressed finely until the coffee and dessert were served, and Mr. Stephens had dismissed the waiters and prepared for a half-way business talk; then suddenly his clerk gave a quick nervous push from him of the plate on which quivered a tiny mound of jelly, its symmetry destroyed by just one mouthful, and the crimson blood rolled to his very forehead. His confusion was too apparent and continued to admit of being overlooked, and Mr. Stephens asked, with a mixture of curiosity and anxiety:
"What is the trouble, Mallery?"
"Mr. Stephens," said Theodore, earnestly with just a little tremble of pain in his voice, "you have made me disregard for the first time in my life the only prayer that my mother ever prayed for me."
Mr. Stephens, who knew the story of his life, looked bewildered and troubled, and said gently; "I don"t understand, Theodore;" while Mr.
Ryan"s eyes had the roguish twinkle in them again, because he did understand.
Theodore silently inclined his head toward the rejected plate.
"Oh," said Mr. Stephens, looking relieved, "do you object to the wine jelly? Why, my dear boy, isn"t that almost straining a point? I don"t understand the art of interfering with cookery."
"This is an excellent opportunity for me," began Mr. Ryan. "I"ve been wishing enlightenment for a long time on an abstruse question connected with the temperance theory. Mr. Mallery, you are a stanch upholder of the cause, I believe. May I question you?"
Theodore had regained his composure, and was quietly sipping his coffee.
"You may, sir, certainly," he said, playfully. "I believe nothing is easier than to ask questions. Whether I can answer them or not is, of course, another matter."
Mr. Ryan laughed.
"But you used to be, or that is--well, something leads me to think that you are one of the Bible temperance men. Are you not?"
Theodore fixed a pair of full, earnest, unashamed eyes on the questioner"s face before he said:
"Yes, sir, I entirely agree with Habakkuk on that subject to-day as in the past."
"Well then," said Mr. Ryan, dashing into the subject, "I"m in need of enlightenment. Isn"t there a story in the Bible about a certain wedding, at which our Savior countenanced the use of wine not only by his presence, but by actually furnishing the wine itself by his own miraculous power?"
"There _is_ such a story," said Theodore, continuing to quietly sip his coffee.
"Well, how do you account for it?"
"I suppose, sir, you know how great and good men account for it?"
questioned Theodore.
"Oh yes, I know the story by heart, about two kinds of wine--one intoxicating, the other _not_, and that this wine at the marriage feast was of the non-intoxicating sort; but that at best is only supposition, not argument. I have as good a right to suppose it _was_ intoxicating as you have to suppose it was not."
"Have you?" said Theodore, with elevated eyebrows. "In that we should differ."
"Then that is the very point upon which I need enlightenment," answered Mr. Ryan, with a good-humored laugh. "Won"t you please proceed?"