The Penalty - LightNovelsOnl.com
You're reading novel online at LightNovelsOnl.com. Please use the follow button to get notifications about your favorite novels and its latest chapters so you can come back anytime and won't miss anything.
"Harry," he said simply.
"The man who was here before?"
"Yes, Miss Barbara."
"What's he doing in my rooms?"
"He was just sitting, and chinning," said Bubbles.
Miss Ferris was displeased. "Tell him," she said, "that I can't have my apartment turned into a Young Men's Club."
"Yes, miss."
Bubbles retired, reluctantly, with the message, only to return in a moment.
"He says will you let him speak to you a moment, please."
She hesitated. And then, "Yes," she said. "I suppose he wishes to apologize."
He was even more charming-looking than the memory of him. She made an effort to look a little displeased, and a little unfriendly. She failed, because the May-weather message had gotten into her blood, and because certain forces of which as yet she knew little had established connecting links between herself and the young secret-service agent.
"I am going to scold you," said Barbara. "Bubbles has his work to do."
"But I was helping him with it."
"He said you were just sitting and--and chinning."
"When we had finished working."
"Have you been here long?"
The young man looked her steadily in the face, and said gravely: "Ever since Blizzard came."
Barbara lifted her chin a little. "I am quite able to take care of myself," she said.
He shook his head sadly.
"Do you make it your business"--she had succeeded in making herself angry--"to keep an eye on all young women whom you fancy unable to take care of themselves?"
"I only wish to G.o.d I could," he said earnestly. "But of course it's impossible. So I just do the best I can."
"And why have you chosen me? Surely others are even _more_ helpless than I am." She managed to convey a good deal of scorn. "Why," she continued, "must I be the particular creature singled out for your chivalrous notice?"
"I don't know," he said simply.
All the anger went out of Barbara, and a delicious little thrill pa.s.sed through her from head to foot, leaving in its wake a clear rosy coloring.
"Bubbles," said the young man, "would die for you; but he is only a little boy. I am very strong."
Barbara refused to rise at the implication that the strong young man was also ready and even eager to die for her. "Tell me more about Blizzard," she said.
"He's one of the half-dozen men in the city that we would like to have an eye on night and day. We want him."
"Oh," she said, "then you are not here entirely on my account? It is also your business to be here?"
He nodded, not altogether pleased with the turn the matter had taken.
"In that case," she said, "I have no wish to stand in your way. But--I don't propose to be a cat's-paw. You may sit in Bubbles's room if you like, but I won't have you on your hands and knees at the studio door listening at the key-hole. That must be understood."
The young man flushed with righteous anger. "You don't _look_" he said, "as if you could say a thing like that to a fellow."
Instantly, and almost humbly, she begged his pardon.
"Then I may come to-morrow?" he asked.
"And the next day," said Barbara. "And, by the way, what is your name?"
"Harry," he said.
"Harry what?"
A look very much like pathos came into his handsome eyes. "I want to be honest with you," he said. "I don't own any other name. I call myself West. But I've no right to it. I don't know who my father was or what he was."
"You don't have to explain," said Barbara. "I think you would have been quite within your rights in saying that your name was West and letting it go at that."
It was not her intention to receive Mr. West's confidences either at this time or any other. And so, of course, ten minutes later, as she drove uptown, she was "dying" to know all that there was to be known about him. He had gone downstairs with her, and put her into her cab. He might have been a prince with a pa.s.sion for good manners. He seemed to her wonderfully graceful and at ease, in all that he did.
XIII
Dr. Ferris smiled tolerantly, and said to the footman who had brought the card: "I shall be very glad to see Mr. Allen." And he kept on smiling after the footman had gone. The interview which he foresaw was of that kind which not only did him honor but amused him. Wilmot Allen would not be the first young man to whom the rich surgeon had had the pleasure of putting embarra.s.sing questions: "What can you tell me of your past life and habits?" "Can you support my daughter in the way to which she has always been accustomed?" etc., etc.
But Wilmot Allen did not at once ask permission to address Barbara. He entered with that good-natured air of easy laziness which was rather attractive in him, and without looking in the least troubled announced that what he had come to say embarra.s.sed him greatly.
"And furthermore," he said, "if Barbara hears of it, she'll be furious.
She would take the natural and even correct point of view that it's none of my business, and she would select one of the thousand ruthless and brutal methods which young women have at their disposition for the disciplining of young men. So, please, will you consider my visit professional and, if you like," he grinned mischievously, "charge me the regular fee for consultation?"
Dr. Ferris laughed. "I shall be delighted to play father confessor," he said, "if you'll sit down, and smoke a cigar."
Mr. Allen would. He lighted one of Dr. Ferris's cigars with the care due to a thing of value, settled himself in a deep chair, and appeared by slightly pausing to be gathering scattered thoughts into a focus.
"Yes," he said at last, "there's no doubt about it. I am about to be very impertinent. If you like you shall turn me out of your house, with or without kicks, as seems best to you. Barbara needs a nurse, and it seems to me you ought to know it; because in a way it's a reflection on you."
"Quite so," said Dr. Ferris. "I am not at all pleased with Barbara. What has she done?"