The Foolish Virgin
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Thomas Dixon >> The Foolish Virgin
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"What's the matter?" he asked.
"Nothing. I'm just happy."
She blushed and wondered if he had read her
thoughts by some subtle power of clairvoyance. She was
speculating on the effects of love at first sight on
such a man. Would he hesitate, back and fill and hang
on for months trying in vain to gain the courage to
speak? Or would he spring with the leap of a young
tiger the moment he realized what he wanted?
Her own attitude was purely one of joyous
expectancy. It would, of course, be a long time before
her feelings could take any definite attitude toward a
man. For the moment she was supremely happy. It was
enough. She made no effort to probe her feelings. She
might return to earth tomorrow. Today she was in
Heaven. She would make the most of it.
They skimmed the wooded cliffs of Bay Ridge, her
heart beating in ecstasy at the revelation of beauty of
whose existence she had not dreamed.
"I bet you never saw this drive before, now did
you?" he asked with boyish enthusiasm.
"No--it's wonderful."
"Some view--eh?"
"Entrancing!"
"You know when I make my pile, I'd like a palace of
white marble perched on this cliff with the windows
on the south looking out over Sandy Hook, and the
windows on the west looking over that fort on the top
of Staten Island with its black eyes gazing over the
sea. How would you like that?"
She turned away to mask the smile she couldn't
repress.
"That would be splendid, wouldn't it?"
"I like the water, don't you?"
"I love it."
"Water and hills both right together! I reckon my
father must 'a' been a sea-captain and my mother from
the mountains----"
He said this with a pathos that found the girl's
heart. What a pitiful, lonely life, a boy's without
even the memory of a mother or father! The mother
instinct rose in a resistless flood of pity. Her eyes
grew suddenly dim.
"Well," he said briskly, "now for the dainty job!
I've got to jump my way through that Coney Island
bunch. You see my low speed's a racing pace for an
everyday car. All I can do in a crowd is to jump from
one crossing to the next and cut her power off every
time. You can bet I'll make a guy or two jump with
me----"
"You won't hurt anyone?" she pleaded.
"Lord, no! I wouldn't dare to put her
through that mob in the afternoon. I'd kill a
regiment of 'em. But it's early--just the shank of the
morning. There's nobody down here yet."
The car suddenly leaped into the Avenue that runs
through the heart of Coney Island, the deep-throated
horn screaming its warning. The crowd scattered like
sheep before a lion.
The girl laughed in spite of her effort at self-
control.
"Watch 'em hump!" Jim grunted.
"It's funny, isn't it?"
"When you're in the car--yes. It don't seem so
funny when you're on foot. Well, some people were made
to walk and some to ride. I had to hoof it at first.
I like riding better--don't you?"
"To be perfectly honest--yes!"
The car leaped forward again, the horn screaming.
The wheel passed within a foot of a fat woman's skirt.
With a cry of terror she fled to the sidewalk and shook
her fist at Jim, her face purple with anger.
He waved his hand back at her:
"Never touched you, dearie! Never touched you!"
Mary lost all fear of accident and watched him
handle the machine with the skill of a master. She
could understand now the spirit of deviltry in a
chauffeur who knows his business. It seemed a wicked,
cruel thing from the ground--this swift plunge of a car
as if bent on murder. But now that she felt the sure,
velvet grip of the brake in a master's hand, she saw
that the danger was largely a myth.
It was fun to see people jump at the approach of an
avalanche of steel that always stopped just short of
harm. Of course, it took a steady nerve and muscle to
do the trick. The man by her side had both. He was
always smiling. Nothing rattled him.
Her trust was now implicit. She relaxed the
tension of the first two hours of doubt and fear, and
yielded to the spell of his strength. It seemed
inseparable from the throbbing will of the giant
machine. He was its incarnate spirit. She was being
swept through space now on the wings of omnipotent
power--but power always obedient to her whim.
With steady, even pulse they glided down the long,
broad Avenue to Prospect Park, swung through its
winding lanes, on through the streets of Brooklyn and
once more into the open road.
"Now for Long Beach and a good lunch!" he cried.
"I'll show you something--but you'll have to shut your
eyes to see it."
With a sudden bound, the car leaped into the air,
and shot through the sky with the hiss and shriek of a
demon.
The girl caught her breath and instinctively
gripped his arm.
"Look out, Kiddo!" he shouted. "Don't touch me--or
we'll both land in Kingdom Come. I ain't ready for a
harp just yet. I'd rather fool with this toy for a
while down here."
She braced her feet and gripped the sides of the
car, gasping for breath, steadied herself at last and
crouched low among the furs to guard her throat from
the icy daggers of the wind.
The landscape whirled in a circle of trees and sky,
while above the dark line of hills hung the boiling
cauldron of cloud-banked heavens.
"Are you game?" he called above the roar.
"Yes," she gasped. "Don't stop----"
Her soul had risen at last to the ecstasy of the
mania for speed that fired the man's spirit and nerved
his hand. It was inconceivable until experienced--this
awful joy! Her spirit sank with childish
disappointment as he slowly lowered the power.
"Got to take a sharp curve down there," he
explained. "We turn to the right for the meadows and
the Beach--how was that?"
"Wonderful," she cried, with dancing eyes. "Let
her go again if you want to--I'm game--now."
Jim laughed.
"A little rattled at first?"
"Yes----"
"Well, we can't let her out on this road. It's too
narrow--have to take a ditch sometimes to pass. That
wouldn't do for an eighty-mile clip, you know--now
would it?"
"Hardly."
"I might risk it alone--but my first name's `Old
Man Caution' today--you get me?"
Mary nodded and turned her head away again.
"I got you the first time, sir," she answered
playfully taking his tone.
He ran the car into the garage at the Beach, sprang
out and lifted Mary to the ground with quick, firm
hand. They threw off their heavy coats and left them.
"Look out for this junk now, sonny," he cried to
the attendant, tossing him a half dollar.
"Sure, Mike!"
"Fill her up to the chin by the time we get
back."
"Righto!"
Quickly they walked to the hotel and in five
minutes were seated beside a window in the dining-room,
watching the lazy roll of the sea sweep in on the sands
at low tide.
"I'm hungry as a wolf!" he whispered.
"So am I----"
"We'll eat everything in sight--start at the top
and come down."
He handed her the menu card and watched her from
the depths beneath the drooping eyelids.
Conscious of his gaze and rejoicing in its frank
admiration, she ordered the dinner with instinctive
good taste. No effort at conversation was made by
either. They were both too hungry. As Jim lighted his
cigarette when the coffee was served, he leaned back in
his chair and watched the breakers in silence.
"That's the best dinner I ever had in my life," he
said slowly.
"It was good. We were hungry."
"I've been hungry before, many a time. It was
something else, too." He paused and rose abruptly.
"Let's walk up the Beach."
"I'd love to," she answered, slowly rising.
CHAPTER VI
BESIDE THE SEA
They strolled leisurely along the board-walk, found the
sand, walked in the firm, dry line of the high-water
mark for a mile to the east, and sat down on a clump of
sea-grass on the top of a sand dune.
"I like this!" she cried joyously.
"So do I," he answered soberly, and lapsed into
silence.
The sun was warm and genial. The wind had died,
and the waves of the rising tide were creeping up the
long, sloping stretches of the sand with a lazy,
soothing rush. A winter gull poised above their heads
and soared seaward. The smoke of an ocean liner
streaked the horizon as she swept toward the channel
off Sandy Hook.
Jim looked at the girl by his side and tried to
speak. She caught the strained expression in his
strong face and lowered her eyes.
He began to trace letters in the sand.
She knew with unerring instinct that he had made
his first desperate effort to speak his love and
failed. Would he give it up and wait for weeks and
possibly months--or would he storm the citadel in one
mad rush at the beginning?
He found his voice at last. He had recovered from
the panic of his first impulse.
"Well, how do you like my idea of a good day as far
as you've gone?" he asked lightly.
She met his gaze with perfect frankness. "The
happiest day I ever spent in my life," she confessed.
"Honest?"
"Honest."
"Oh, shucks--what's the use!" he cried, with sudden
fierce resolution. "You've got me, Kiddo, you've got
me! I've been eatin' out of your hand since the minute
I laid my eyes on you in that big room. I'm all yours.
You can do anything you want with me. For God's sake,
tell me that you like me a little."
The blood slowly mounted to her cheeks in red waves
of tremulous emotion.
"I like you very much," she said in low tones.
He seized her hand and held it in a desperate grip.
"I love you, Kiddo," he went on passionately. "You
don't mind me calling you Kiddo? You're so dainty
and pretty and sweet, and that dimple keeps coming in
your cheek, it just seems like that's the word--you
don't mind?"
"No----"
"You don't know how I've been starvin' all my life
for the love of a pure girl like you. You're the first
one I ever spoke to. I was scared to death yesterday
when I saw you. But I'd 'a' spoke to you if it killed
me in my tracks. I couldn't help it. It just looked
like an angel had dropped right down out of the gold
clouds from that ceilin'. I was afraid I'd lose you in
the crowd and never see you again. It didn't seem you
were a stranger anyhow--I didn't seem strange to you,
did I?"
Her lips quivered, and she was silent.
"Didn't you feel like you'd known me somewhere
before?" he pleaded.
"Yes."
"I just felt you did, and that's what give me
courage. Oh, Kiddo, you've got to love me a little--
I've never been loved by a human soul in all my life.
The first thing I remember was hidin' under a stoop
from a brute who beat me every night. I ran away and
slept in barrels and crawled into coal shutes till I
was big enough to earn a livin' sellin' papers. For
years I never knew what it meant to have enough to
eat. I just scratched and fought my way through the
streets like a little hungry wolf till I got in a
blacksmith's shop down on South Street and learned to
handle tools. I was quick and smart, and the old man
liked me and let me sleep in the shop. I had enough to
eat then and got strong as an ox. I went to the night
schools and learned to read and write. I don't know
anything, but I'm quick and you can teach me--you will,
won't you?"
"I'll try," was the low answer.
"You do like me, Kiddo? Say it again!"
She rose to her feet and looked out over the sea,
her face scarlet.
"Yes, I do," she said at last.
With a sudden resistless sweep he clasped her in
his arms and kissed her lips.
Her heart leaped in mad response to the first kiss
a lover had ever given. Her body quivered and relaxed
in his embrace. It was sweet--it was wonderful beyond
words.
He kissed her again, and she clung to him, lifting
her eyes to his at last in a long, wondering gaze and
then pressed her own lips to his.
"Oh, my God, Kiddo, you love me! It beats the
world, don't it? Love at first sight for both of
us!
I've heard about it, but I didn't think it would
ever happen to me like this--did you?"
She shook her head and bit her lips as the tears
slowly dimmed her eyes.
"It takes my breath," she murmured. "I can't
realize what it all means. It seems too wonderful to
be true."
"And you won't turn me down because I don't know
who my father and mother was?"
"No--my heart goes out to you in a great pity for
your lonely, wretched boyhood."
"I couldn't help that--now could I?"
"Of course not. It's wonderful that you've made
your way alone and won the fight of life."
He gripped her hands and held her at arms' length,
devouring her with his deep, slumbering eyes.
"Gee, but you're a brick, little girl! I thought
you were an angel when I first saw you. Now I know it.
Just watch me work for you! I'll show you a thing or
two. You'll marry me right away, won't you?"
He bent close, his breath on her lips.
Her eyes drooped under his passionate gaze, and the
tears slowly stole down her cheeks. Her hour of life
had struck! So suddenly, so utterly unexpectedly, it
rang a thunderbolt from the clear sky.
"You will, won't you?" he pleaded.
She smiled at him through her tears and slowly
said:
"I can't say yes today."
"Why--why?"
"You've swept me off my feet--I--I can't think."
"I don't want you to think--I want you to marry me
right now."
"I must have a little time."
His face fell in despair.
"Say, little girl, don't turn me down--you'll kill
me."
"I'm not turning you down," she protested tenderly.
"I only want time to see that I'm not crazy. I have to
pinch myself to see if I'm awake. It all seems a
dream"--she paused and lifted her radiant face to his--
"a beautiful dream--the most wonderful my soul has ever
seen. I must be sure it's real!"
He drew her into his arms, and her body again
relaxed in surrender as his lips touched hers.
"Isn't that the real thing?" he laughed.
She lay very still, her eyes closed, her face a
scarlet flame. She was frightened at the swift
realization of its overwhelming reality. The touch of
his hand thrilled to the last fiber and nerve of her
body. Her own trembling fingers clung to him with
desperate longing tenderness. She roused herself with
an effort and drew away.
"That's enough now. I must have a little common-
sense. Let's go----"
He clung to her hand.
"You'll let me come to see you, tomorrow night?"
"Yes----"
"And the next night--and every night this week--
what's the difference? There's nobody to say no, is
there?"
"No one."
"You'll let me?"
"Tomorrow sure. Maybe you won't want to come the
next night."
"Maybe I won't! Just wait and see!"
He seized both hands again and held her at arms'
length.
"Don't go yet--just let me look at you a minute
more! The only girl I ever had in my life--and she's
the prettiest thing God ever made on this earth. Ain't
I the lucky boy?"
"We must go now," she cried, blushing again under
his burning eyes.
He dropped her hands suddenly and saluted military
fashion.
"All right, teacher! I'm the little boy that does
exactly what he's told."
They strolled leisurely along the shining sands in
silence. Now and then his slender hand caught hers and
crushed it. The moment he touched her a living flame
flashed through her body--and through every moment of
contact her nerves throbbed and quivered as if a
musician were sweeping the strings of a harp. If this
were not love, what could it be?
Her whole being, body and soul, responded to his.
Her body moved instinctively toward his, drawn by some
hidden, resistless power. Her hands went out to meet
his; her lips leaped to his.
She must test it with time, of course. And yet she
knew by a deep inner sense that time could only fan the
flame that had been kindled into consuming fire that
must melt every barrier between them.
She had asked him nothing of himself, his business
or his future, and knew nothing except what he had told
her in the first impetuous rush of his confession of
love. No matter. The big thing today was the fact of
love and the new radiance with which it was beginning
to light the world. The effect was stunning. Their
conversation had been the simplest of commonplace
questions and answers--and yet the day was the one
miracle of her life--her happiness something
unthinkable until realized.
She had not asked time in order to know him better.
She had only asked time to see herself more clearly in
the new experience. Not for a moment did she raise the
question of the worthiness of the man she loved. It
was inconceivable that she should love a man not worthy
of her. The only questions asked were soul-searching
ones put to herself.
Through the sweet, cool drive homeward, a hundred
times she asked within:
"Is this love?"
And each time the answer came from the depths:
"Yes--yes--a thousand times yes. It's the voice of
God. I feel it and I know it."
He throttled the racer down to the lowest speed and
took the longest road home.
Again and again he slipped his left hand from the
wheel and pressed hers.
"You won't let anybody knock me behind my back, now
will you, little girl?"
She pressed his hand in answer.
"I ain't got a single friend in all God's world to
stand up for me but just you."
"You don't need anyone," she whispered.
"You'll give me a chance to get back at 'em if any
of your friends knock me, won't you?"
"Why should they dislike you?"
He shrugged his shoulders.
"Well, I ain't exactly one o' the high-flyers now
am I?"
"I'm glad you're not."
"Sure enough?"
"Yes."
"Then it's me for you, Kiddo, for this world and
the next."
The car swung suddenly to the curb and Mary lifted
her eyes with a start to find herself in front of her
home.
Jim sprang to the ground and lifted her out.
"Keep this coat," he whispered. "We'll need it
tomorrow. What time is your school out?"
"At three o'clock."
"I can come at four?"
"You don't have to work tomorrow?"
He hesitated a moment.
"No, I'm on a vacation till after Christmas.
They're putting through my new patent."
He followed her inside the door and held her hand
in the shadows of the hall.
"All right, at four," she said.
"I'll be here."
He stooped and kissed her, turned and passed
quickly out.
She stood for a moment in the shadows and listened
to the throb of the car until it melted into the roar
of the city's life, her heart beating with a joy so new
it was pain.
CHAPTER VII
A VAIN APPEAL
A week passed on the wings of magic.
Every day at four o'clock the car was waiting at
her door. The drab interior of the school-room had
lost its terror. No annoyance could break the spell
that reigned within. Her patience was inexhaustible,
her temper serene.
Walking with swift step down the Avenue to her home
she wondered vaguely how she could have been lonely in
all the music and the wonder of New York's marvelous
life. The windows of the stores were already crowded
with Christmas cheer, and busy thousands passed through
their doors. Each man or woman was a swift messenger
of love. Somewhere in the shadows of the city's
labyrinth a human heart would beat with quickened joy
for every step that pressed about these crowded
counters. Love had given new eyes to see, new ears to
hear and a new heart to feel the joys and sorrows of
life.
She hadn't given her consent yet. She was
still asking her silly heart to be sure of herself.
Of her lover, the depth and tenderness, the strength
and madness of his love, there could be no doubt. Each
day he had given new tokens.
For Saturday afternoon she had told him not to
bring the car.
When they reached Fifth Avenue, across the Square,
he stopped abruptly and faced her with a curious,
uneasy look:
"Say, tell me why you wanted to walk?"
"I had a good reason," she said evasively.
"Yes, but why? It's a sin to lay that car up a day
like this. Look here----"
He stopped and tried to gulp down his fears.
"Look here--you're not going to throw me down after
leading me to the very top of the roof, are you?"
She looked up with tender assurance.
"Not today----"
"Then why hoof it? Let me run round to the garage
and shoot her out. You can wait for me at the Waldorf.
I've always wanted to push my buzz-wagon up to that big
joint and wait for my girl to trip down the steps."
"No. I've a plan of my own today. Let me have my
way."
"All righto--just so you're happy."
"I am happy," she answered soberly.
At the foot of the broad stairs of the Library she
paused and looked up smilingly at its majestic front.
"Come in a moment," she said softly.
He followed her wonderingly into the vaulted hall
and climbed the grand staircase to the reading-room.
She walked slowly to the shelf on which the Century
Dictionary rested and looked laughingly at the seat in
which she sat Saturday afternoon a week ago at exactly
this hour.
Jim smiled, leaned close and whispered:
"I got you, Kiddo--I got you! Get out of here
quick or I'll grab you and kiss you!"
She started and blushed.
"Don't you dare!"
"Beat it then--beat it--or I can't help it!"
She turned quickly and they passed through the
catalogue room and lightly down the stairs.
He held her soft, round arm with a grip that sent
the blood tingling to the roots of her brown hair.
"You understand now?" she whispered.
"You bet! We walk the same way up the Avenue,
through the Park to the little house on the laurel
hill. And you're goin' to be sweet to me today, my
Kiddo--I just feel it. I----"
"Don't be too sure, sir!" she interrupted,
solemnly.
He laughed aloud.
"You can't fool me now--and I'm crazy as a June
bug! You know I like to walk--if I can be with you!"
At the Park entrance she stopped again and smiled
roguishly.
"We'll find a seat in one of the summer houses
along the Fifty-ninth Street side."
"All right," he responded.
"No--we'll go on where we started!"
With a laugh, she slipped her hand through his arm.
"You were a little scared of me last Saturday about
this time, weren't you?"
"Just a little----"
"It hurt me, too, but I didn't let you know."
"I'm sorry."
"It's all right now--it's all right. Gee I but
we've traveled some in a week, haven't we?"
"I've known you more than a week," she protested
gayly.
"Sure--I've known you since I was born."
They walked through the stately rows of elms on the
Mall in joyous silence. Crowds of children and
nurses, lovers and loungers, filled the seats and
thronged the broad promenade.
Scarcely a word was spoken until they reached the
rustic house nestling among the trees on the hill.
"Just a week by the calendar," she murmured. "And
I've lived a lifetime."
"It's all right then--little girl? You'll marry me
right away? When--tonight?"
"Hardly!"
"Tomorrow, then?"
She drew the glove from her hand and held the
slender fingers up before him.
"You can get the ring----"
"Gee! I do have to get a ring, don't I?"
"Yes----"
"Why didn't you tell me? You know I never got
married before."
"I should hope not!"
He seized her hand and kissed it, drew her into his
arms, held her crushed and breathless and released her
with a quick, impulsive movement.
"You'll help me get it?" he asked eagerly.
"If you like."
"A big white sparkler?"
"No--no----"
"No?"
"A plain little gold band."
"Let me get you a big diamond!"
"No--a plain gold band."
"It's all settled then?"
"We're engaged. You're my fiance."
"But for God's sake, Kiddo--how long do I have to
be a fiance?"
A ripple of laughter rang through the trees.
"Don't you think we've done pretty well for seven
days?"
"I could have settled it in seven minutes after we
met," he answered complainingly. "You won't tell me
the day yet?"
"Not yet----"
"All right, we'll just have to take blessings as
they come, then."
Through the beautiful afternoon they sat side by
side with close-pressed hands and planned the future
which love had given. A modest flat far up among the
trees on the cliffs overlooking the Hudson, they
decided on.
"We'll begin with that," he cried enthusiastically,
"but we won't stay there long. I've got big plans.
I'm going to make a million. The white house down by
the sea for me, a yacht out in the front yard and a
half-dozen thundering autos in the garage. If this
deal I'm on now goes through, I'll make my pile in a
year----"
They rose as the shadows lengthened.
"I must go home and feed my pets," she sighed.
"All right," he responded heartily. "I'll get the
car and be there in a jiffy. We'll take a spin out to
a road-house for dinner."
She lifted her eyes tenderly.
"You can come right up to my room--now that we're
engaged."
He swept her into his arms again, and held her in
unresisting happiness.
It was dark when he swung the gray car against the
curb and sprang out. He didn't blow his horn for her
to come down. The privilege she had granted was too
sweet and wonderful. He wouldn't miss it for the
world.
The stairs were dark. Ella was late this afternoon
getting back to her work. His light footstep scarcely
made a sound. He found each step with quick,
instinctive touch. The building seemed deserted. The
tenants were all on trips to the country and the
seashore. The day was one of rare beauty and warmth.
Someone was fumbling in the dark on the third floor
back.
He made his way quickly to her room, and softly
knocked, waited a moment and knocked again. There was
no response. He couldn't be mistaken. He had seen her
lean out of that window every day the past week.
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