Now, Mr. Platt, said Zizzbaum, I want you to see these princess gowns in the light shades. They will be the thing in your climate. This first, if you please, Miss Asher.
Swiftly in and out of the dressing-room the prize model flew, each time wearing a new costume and looking more stunning with every change. She posed with absolute self-possession before the stricken buyer, who stood, tongue-tied and motionless, while Zizzbaum orated oilily of the styles. On the models face was her faint, impersonal professional smile that seemed to cover something like weariness or contempt.
When the display was over Platt seemed to hesitate. Zizzbaum was a little anxious, thinking that his customer might be inclined to try elsewhere. But Platt was only looking over in his mind the best building sites in Cactus City, trying to select one on which to build a house for his wife-to-be who was just then in the dressing-room taking off an evening gown of lavender and tulle.
Take your time, Mr. Platt, said Zizzbaum. Think it over to-night. You wont find anybody else meet our prices on goods like these. Im afraid youre having a dull time in New York, Mr. Platt. A young man like you of course, you miss the society of the ladies. Wouldnt you like a nice young lady to take out to dinner this evening? Miss Asher, now, is a very nice young lady; she will make it agreeable for you.
Why, she doesnt know me, said Platt, wonderingly. She doesnt know anything about me. Would she go? Im not acquainted with her.
Would she go? repeated Zizzbaum, with uplifted eyebrows. Sure, she would go. I will introduce you. Sure, she would go.
He called Miss Asher loudly.
She came, calm and slightly contemptuous, in her white shirt waist and plain black skirt.
Mr. Platt would like the pleasure of your company to dinner this evening, said Zizzbaum, walking away.
Sure, said Miss Asher, looking at the ceiling. Id be much pleased. Nine-eleven West Twentieth street. What time?
Say seven oclock.
All right, but please dont come ahead of time. I room with a school teacher, and she doesnt allow any gentlemen to call in the room. There isnt any parlor, so youll have to wait in the hall. Ill be ready.
At half past seven Platt and Miss Asher sat at a table in a Broadway restaurant. She was dressed in a plain, filmy black. Platt didnt know that it was all a part of her days work.
With the unobtrusive aid of a good waiter he managed to order a respectable dinner, minus the usual Broadway preliminaries.
Miss Asher flashed upon him a dazzling smile.
Maynt I have something to drink? she asked.
Why, certainly, said Platt. Anything you want.
A dry Martini, she said to the waiter.
When it was brought and set before her Platt reached over and took it away.
What is this? he asked.
A cocktail, of course.
I thought it was some kind of tea you ordered. This is liquor. You cant drink this. What is your first name?
To my intimate friends, said Miss Asher, freezingly, it is Helen.
Listen, Helen, said Platt, leaning over the table. For many years every time the spring flowers blossomed out on the prairies I got to thinking of somebody that Id never seen or heard of. I knew it was you the minute I saw you yesterday. Im going back home to-morrow, and youre going with me. I know it, for I saw it in your eyes when you first looked at me. You neednt kick, for youve got to fall into line. Heres a little trick I picked out for you on my way over.
He flicked a two-carat diamond solitaire ring[286] across the table. Miss Asher flipped it back to him with her fork.
Dont get fresh, she said, severely.
Im worth a hundred thousand dollars, said Platt. Ill build you the finest house in West Texas.
You cant buy me, Mr. Buyer, said Miss Asher, if you had a hundred million. I didnt think Id have to call you down. You didnt look like the others to me at first, but I see youre all alike.
All who? asked Platt.
All you buyers. You think because we girls have to go out to dinner with you or lose our jobs that youre privileged to say what you please. Well, forget it. I thought you were different from the others, but I see I was mistaken.
Platt struck his fingers on the table with a gesture of sudden, illuminating satisfaction.
Ive got it! he exclaimed, almost hilariously the Nicholson place, over on the north side. Theres a big grove of live oaks and a natural lake. The old house can be pulled down and the new one set further back.
Put out your pipe, said Miss Asher. Im sorry to wake you up, but you fellows might as well get wise, once for all, to where you stand. Im supposed to go to dinner with you and help jolly you along so youll trade with old Zizzy, but dont expect to find me in any of the suits you buy.
Do you mean to tell me, said Platt, that you go out this way with customers, and they all they all talk to you like I have?
They all make plays, said Miss Asher. But I must say that youve got em beat in one respect. They generally talk diamonds, while youve actually dug one up.
How long have you been working, Helen?
Got my name pat, havent you? Ive been supporting myself for eight years. I was a cash girl and a wrapper and then a shop girl until I was grown, and then I got to be a suit model. Mr. Texas Man, dont you think a little wine would make this dinner a little less dry?
Youre not going to drink wine any more, dear. Its awful to think how Ill come to the store to-morrow and get you. I want you to pick out an automobile before we leave. Thats all we need to buy here.
Oh, cut that out. If you knew how sick I am of hearing such talk.
Oh, cut that out. If you knew how sick I am of hearing such talk.
After the dinner they walked down Broadway and came upon Dianas little wooded park. The trees caught Platts eye at once, and he must turn along under the winding walk beneath them. The lights shone upon two bright tears in the models eyes.
I dont like that, said Platt. Whats the matter?
Dont you mind, said Miss Asher. Well, its because well, I didnt think you were that kind when I first saw you. But you are all like. And now will you take me home, or will I have to call a cop?
Platt took her to the door of her boarding-house. They stood for a minute in the vestibule. She looked at him with such scorn in her eyes that even his heart of oak began to waver. His arm was half way around her waist, when she struck him a stinging blow on the face with her open hand.
As he stepped back a ring fell from somewhere and bounded on the tiled floor. Platt groped for it and found it.
Now, take your useless diamond and go, Mr. Buyer, she said.
This was the other one the wedding ring, said the Texan, holding the smooth gold band on the palm of his hand.
Miss Ashers eyes blazed upon him in the half darkness.
Was that what you meant? did you
Somebody opened the door from inside the house.
Good-night, said Platt. Ill see you at the store to-morrow.
Miss Asher ran up to her room and shook the school teacher until she sat up in bed ready to scream Fire!
Where is it? she cried.
Thats what I want to know, said the model. Youve studied geography, Emma, and you ought to know. Where is a town called Cac Cac Carac Caracas[287] City, I think, they called it?
How dare you wake me up for that? said the school teacher. Caracas is in Venezuela, of course.
Whats it like?
Why, its principally earthquakes and negroes and monkeys and malarial fever and volcanoes.
I dont care, said Miss Asher, blithely; Im going there to-morrow.
The Badge of Policeman ORoon
It cannot be denied that men and women have looked upon one another for the first time and become instantly enamored. It is a risky process, this love at first sight, before she has seen him in Bradstreet or he has seen her in curl papers. But these things do happen; and one instance must form a theme for this story though not, thank Heaven, to the overshadowing of more vital and important subjects, such as drink, policemen, horses and earldoms.
During a certain war a troop calling itself the Gentle Riders[288] rode into history and one or two ambuscades. The Gentle Riders were recruited from the aristocracy of the wild men of the West and the wild men of the aristocracy of the East. In khaki there is little telling them one from another, so they became good friends and comrades all around.
Ellsworth Remsen, whose old Knickerbocker[289] descent atoned for his modest rating at only ten millions, ate his canned beef gayly by the campfires of the Gentle Riders. The war was a great lark to him, so that he scarcely regretted polo and planked shad.
One of the troopers was a well set up, affable, cool young man, who called himself ORoon. To this young man Remsen took an especial liking. The two rode side by side during the famous mooted up-hill charge that was disputed so hotly at the time by the Spaniards and afterward by the Democrats.
After the war Remsen came back to his polo and shad. One day a well set up, affable, cool young man disturbed him at his club, and he and ORoon were soon pounding each other and exchanging opprobrious epithets after the manner of long-lost friends. ORoon looked seedy and out of luck and perfectly contented. But it seemed that his content was only apparent.
Get me a job, Remsen, he said. Ive just handed a barber my last shilling.
No trouble at all, said Remsen. I know a lot of men who have banks and stores and things downtown. Any particular line you fancy?
Yes, said ORoon, with a look of interest. I took a walk in your Central Park this morning. Id like to be one of those bobbies on horseback. That would be about the ticket. Besides, its the only thing I could do. I can ride a little and the fresh air suits me. Think you could land that for me?
Remsen was sure that he could. And in a very short time he did. And they who were not above looking at mounted policemen might have seen a well set up, affable, cool young man on a prancing chestnut steed attending to his duties along the driveways of the park.
And now at the extreme risk of wearying old gentlemen who carry leather fob chains, and elderly ladies who but no! grandmother herself yet thrills at foolish, immortal Romeo there must be a hint of love at first sight.
It came just as Remsen was strolling into Fifth avenue from his club a few doors away.
A motor car was creeping along foot by foot, impeded by a freshet of vehicles that filled the street. In the car was a chauffeur and an old gentleman with snowy side whiskers and a Scotch plaid cap which could not be worn while automobiling except by a personage. Not even a wine agent would dare do it. But these two were of no consequence except, perhaps, for the guiding of the machine and the paying for it. At the old gentlemans side sat a young lady more beautiful than pomegranate blossoms, more exquisite than the first quarter moon viewed at twilight through the tops of oleanders. Remsen saw her and knew his fate. He could have flung himself under the very wheels that conveyed her, but he knew that would be the last means of attracting the attention of those who ride in motor cars. Slowly the auto passed, and, if we place the poets above the autoists[290], carried the heart of Remsen with it. Here was a large city of millions, and many women who at a certain distance appear to resemble pomegranate blossoms. Yet he hoped to see her again; for each one fancies that his romance has its own tutelary guardian and divinity.