Edith and John Part 42

Throwing one arm over his knee, and her head upon her arm, she burst into a fit of pa.s.sionate grief that shook her frame.

"My dear Edith," said he, placing his hand on her head, grieved himself by her outburst of new affliction, "you cause me grief. I would not hurt your dear little heart for anything. Now, come, explain to me fully what that heart of yours tells you?"

She arose, half laughing, half crying, almost hysterically discomposed, rubbing her tears away, as she smiled through them rolling down her face.

"I feel ashamed, papa, for being so weak; but I cannot help it," she said, sitting down on his knee, and throwing her head upon his shoulder and one arm around his neck.

"Well! Edith. I am in sympathy with you," said he; "but you gave me a severe shock being so plainly spoken about such an affair of the heart.

Does he suspect it of you?"

"I do not think so, papa--but, papa, he told Star that he loved me, and told her not to tell--and, goosey that she is, she told me, and caused me more--because he said he could not expect to ever meet me on the same level; and that is all I have against him--"

"Well! Of all things I ever heard of," said the father. "I had not been inclined to interfere with you, Edith, in such affairs; but I--" he hesitated. "You make your choice, but be careful, child; be careful."

"Don't you think he is good, papa?" she asked.

"Very good--fine--perfect, Edith! I should not disfavor him; but he must love you for your own dear self before I shall ever give my consent."

"He may never find it out, papa," she said, drearily; "and if he does not, I shall never let him know, and shall go through the world alone."

"That is n.o.ble in you, Edith," said her father, kissing her. "It is time for me to go," he said, as she released him.

On arriving at his office, Mr. Jarney was informed that Mr. Monroe had quietly taken himself off that morning for New York. He was further informed that Mr. Monroe had been requested to make the trip by certain members of the Board of Directors; and further, that he was entrusted with a large sum of money, in the form of drafts, made payable to the order of the treasurer of the company at the Broadway office. When this news was flashed upon Mr. Jarney, there seemed to penetrate his tractable mind, like a thunderbolt, the concatenating links of a plot, too realistic to be waived aside; which he was p.r.o.ne to do, when Edith gave him her story that morning.

Side by side with the facts concerning Monroe's leave-taking and purpose, he also learned that the genteel ghost had taken with him certain office books and papers, to be used in checking over accounts while auditing the books of the branch office. This was not in accordance with precedence, and proved another corroborative circ.u.mstance in the duplicity of the culpable Monroe.

Putting all these correlated facts together, Mr. Jarney, after due deliberation, and after duely weighing them all as incriminating integral parts, and after combining them with the main story of the plot, arrived at the inevitable conclusion that Monroe was up to some deviltry that should be probed to the bottom. He, therefore, called a meeting of the Board of Directors, and put the whole question, in all its phases, before that body. It was almost noon when the board met.

They must act without going through the circ.u.mlocution of formal discussion and the entanglements of red tape, he told them. Some of the members were for postponing the meeting till the next day, to await a telegram from New York, so great was their faith in Monroe's honor.

Monroe, they said, would be in the metropolis on the morrow. The procrastinating members prevailed in their vote on the question, and adjournment was had till the next day.

But Mr. Jarney was not disconcerted, nor did he allow himself to be wholly blocked in his plan of action. So as soon as the board had arrived at the decision to go slow, he took it upon himself, knowing the shrewdness of John Winthrope, to send him a private wire, addressed personally, briefly saying:

"Beware of Monroe; I will be there tomorrow afternoon, if possible."

Dispatching this message, Mr. Jarney returned home, related to Edith what he had discovered as confirmatory evidence against Monroe, got ready, and left on the next train for the seat of trouble.

Edith, from the morning of her conversation with her father to the time she received a wire from him, went through a siege of terrible mental conflicts. She confided in no one, at first, not even Star, the cause of her father's sudden call to New York. She was in a highly nervous fright throughout the hours that seemed never to pa.s.s between his going and the receipt of the telegram. Her flights of fancy went to unreasonable complications for the doomed young man in the New York office. She thought she must rescue him at all odds to her health. Had she been in a condition physically able to bear the journey, she would have gone alone, if need be; or with her father, if permitted; but as it was, she remained in her prison like an unwilling subject in a sanitorium. Thus exhibiting an excitable demeanor in her actions, her mother and Star made futile attempts to draw from her the cause of her fervid agitation.

Still strung to a high tension of determination, still overcome with an uncommon fear, still anxious and studiously meditating over the eventualities that might come to pa.s.s before her father should reach his destination, she wandered about the house in uncontrollable perturbation, sticking tenaciously to her secret.

"Edith," said Star, approaching her in one of her rounds of walking the floor, "come, tell me what is agitating you so today, that I might be of help."

Placing her arm around Star's waist, without a word, she drew Star along in her walk, looking dreamily, and seeing nothing, save what the illusive eye might see in the distance. Star returned the friendly embrace of Edith, and with their arms around each other, the two walked and walked, both silent. Edith silent over what she was pondering on, Star silent over what she feared was an unnatural mental balance.

"Are you ill today, Edith?" asked Star.

"Oh, no, Star; I am feeling very well today," replied Edith.

"But you are so quiet and unresponsive that I can't quite make you out,"

said Star.

Then leading Star to the window where she sat with her father the day before, Edith asked her to sit down that she might have a word with her.

"Star," she said, seriously, relenting in her purpose to keep her secret longer, "what you told me two nights ago I have discovered to be too true--at least in a circ.u.mstantial way," said Edith.

"Why, then, haven't you told me, Edith, so that I could have a fellow-feeling for you?" asked Star.

"Papa requested me to keep it a secret till he returns; which I should do. But, deary, you know I am like you, it is hard to keep a secret,"

said Edith, still uncertain whether to proceed farther.

"Now, my dear Edith! I never tell anybody any secrets but you, and you tell them to n.o.body else, and you never tell any to me, so that is as far as yours ever get."

"Star. I must refreshen your memory a little," said Edith, playfully. "I am not scolding you, you know; but just reminding you a little. Now, didn't you tell Mr. Winthrope something?"

"Well, wasn't he ent.i.tled to it?" said Star, laughing.

"Then you won't, in this instance, tell anybody?"

"No--o--hope'm'die," returned Star, crossing her breast.

"Papa has gone to New York to intercept Monroe."

"Has he?" said Star, with wide eyes. "Monroe, then, has gone?"

"Went yesterday morning before papa reached his office. Papa learned some things that substantiated what Mr. Dieman told you, and, putting everything together, he became convinced of the truthfulness of the stratagem of that man Monroe to bring Mr. Winthrope into disrepute.

Star, had Monroe succeeded in his designs before I had learned the true status of affairs, I should not have believed anything against him; but now that I have been forewarned, I shall never lose faith in his honor and integrity. Star, I told papa of my love for him, which papa did not accept pleasantly at first, thinking I was in fun, or doing it as a lark to tease him; but when he realized I was never more serious, he called him a fine, perfect young man, and was pleased. There, Star, I have told you what has been on my mind since yesterday. Am I a goosey still?"

"You are a little dove, Edith," said Star, sweetly.

"Star, I should like to see Mr. Dieman," said Edith, changing the subject. "Can you have him come here?"

"I may; but it is doubtful."

"I would go to him, if I could."

"He has a young man named Eli Jerey, who transacts business matters for him. He might be summoned. Mr. Dieman places implicit confidence in him.

Everything now must be conveyed through him to Mr. Dieman, I am told. I have seen Mr. Jerey; and I can have him called here to see you for whatever you might want to impose upon Mr. Dieman."

"Is Mr. Dieman so exclusive as that?" asked Edith.

"He is, indeed, Edith. Since his marriage to mother, he has set up in great state, and does nothing but look after his family affairs personally, and transacts other affairs by the way of Mr. Jerey."

"You will vouch for his trustworthiness? at least you can promise that much through what Mr. Dieman represents him to be?"

"Oh, yes; whatever Mr. Dieman says can be relied on."

"Then you may have Mr. Jerey call here at eight o'clock this evening, if he can come."