Gather the idea, girls all black, you know, with the preference for crêpe de oh, crêpe de Chine[403] thats it. All black, and that sad, faraway look, and the hair shining under the black veil (you have to be a blonde, of course), and try to look as if, although your young life had been blighted just as it was about to give a hop-skip-and-a-jump over the threshold of life, a walk in the park might do you good, and be sure to happen out the door at the right moment, and oh, itll fetch em every time. But its fierce, now, how cynical I am, aint it? to talk about mourning costumes this way.
Mr. Donovan suddenly reinscribed Miss Conway upon the tablets of his consideration. He threw away the remaining inch-and-a-quarter of his cigar, that would have been good for eight minutes yet, and quickly shifted his center of gravity to his low cut patent leathers.
Its a fine, clear evening, Miss Conway, he said; and if the Weather Bureau could have heard the confident emphasis of his tones it would have hoisted the square white signal, and nailed it to the mast.
To them that has the heart to enjoy it, it is, Mr. Donovan, said Miss Conway, with a sigh.
Mr. Donovan, in his heart, cursed fair weather. Heartless weather! It should hail and blow and snow to be consonant with the mood of Miss Conway.
I hope none of your relatives I hope you havent sustained a loss? ventured Mr. Donovan.
Death has claimed, said Miss Conway, hesitating not a relative, but one who but I will not intrude my grief upon you, Mr. Donovan.
Intrude? protested Mr. Donovan. Why, say, Miss Conway, Id be delighted, that is, Id be sorry I mean Im sure nobody could sympathize with you truer than I would.
Miss Conway smiled a little smile. And oh, it was sadder than her expression in repose.
Laugh, and the world laughs with you; weep, and they give you the laugh, she quoted. I have learned that, Mr. Donovan. I have no friends or acquaintances in this city. But you have been kind to me. I appreciate it highly.
Miss Conway smiled a little smile. And oh, it was sadder than her expression in repose.
Laugh, and the world laughs with you; weep, and they give you the laugh, she quoted. I have learned that, Mr. Donovan. I have no friends or acquaintances in this city. But you have been kind to me. I appreciate it highly.
He had passed her the pepper twice at the table.
Its tough to be alone in New York thats a cinch, said Mr. Donovan. But, say whenever this little old town does loosen up and get friendly it goes the limit. Say you took a little stroll in the park, Miss Conway dont you think it might chase away some of your mullygrubs[404]? And if youd allow me
Thanks, Mr. Donovan. Id be pleased to accept of your escort if you think the company of one whose heart is filled with gloom could be anyways agreeable to you.
Through the open gates of the iron-railed, old, downtown park, where the elect once took the air, they strolled, and found a quiet bench.
There is this difference between the grief of youth and that of old age: youths burden is lightened by as much of it as another shares; old age may give and give, but the sorrow remains the same.
He was my fiance, confided Miss Conway, at the end of an hour. We were going to be married next spring. I dont want you to think that I am stringing you, Mr. Donovan, but he was a real Count. He had an estate and a castle in Italy. Count Fernando Mazzini was his name. I never saw the beat of him for elegance. Papa objected, of course, and once we eloped, but papa overtook us, and took us back. I thought sure papa and Fernando would fight a duel. Papa has a livery business in Pkipsee, you know.
Finally, papa came round, all right, and said we might be married next spring. Fernando showed him proofs of his title and wealth, and then went over to Italy to get the castle fixed up for us. Papas very proud, and when Fernando wanted to give me several thousand dollars for my trousseau[405] he called him down something awful. He wouldnt even let me take a ring or any presents from him. And when Fernando sailed I came to the city and got a position as cashier in a candy store.
Three days ago I got a letter from Italy, forwarded from Pkipsee, saying that Fernando had been killed in a gondola[406] accident.
That is why I am in mourning. My heart, Mr. Donovan, will remain forever in his grave. I guess I am poor company, Mr. Donovan, but I cannot take any interest in no one. I should not care to keep you from gayety and your friends who can smile and entertain you. Perhaps you would prefer to walk back to the house?
Now, girls, if you want to observe a young man hustle out after a pick and shovel, just tell him that your heart is in some other fellows grave. Young men are grave-robbers by nature. Ask any widow. Something must be done to restore that missing organ to weeping angels in crêpe de Chine. Dead men certainly get the worst of it from all sides.
Im awfully sorry, said Mr. Donovan, gently. No, we wont walk back to the house just yet. And dont say you havent no friends in this city, Miss Conway. Im awful sorry, and I want you to believe Im your friend, and that Im awful sorry.
Ive got his picture here in my locket, said Miss Conway, after wiping her eyes with her handkerchief. I never showed it to anybody; but I will to you, Mr. Donovan, because I believe you to be a true friend.
Mr. Donovan gazed long and with much interest at the photograph in the locket that Miss Conway opened for him. The face of Count Mazzini was one to command interest. It was a smooth, intelligent, bright, almost a handsome face the face of a strong, cheerful man who might well be a leader among his fellows.
I have a larger one, framed, in my room, said Miss Conway. When we return I will show you that. They are all I have to remind me of Fernando. But he ever will be present in my heart, thats a sure thing.
A subtle task confronted Mr. Donovan, that of supplanting the unfortunate Count in the heart of Miss Conway. This his admiration for her determined him to do. But the magnitude of the undertaking did not seem to weigh upon his spirits. The sympathetic but cheerful friend was the rôle he essayed; and he played it so successfully that the next half-hour found them conversing pensively across two plates of ice-cream, though yet there was no diminution of the sadness in Miss Conways large gray eyes.
Before they parted in the hall that evening she ran upstairs and brought down the framed photograph wrapped lovingly in a white silk scarf. Mr. Donovan surveyed it with inscrutable eyes.
He gave me this the night he left for Italy, said Miss Conway. I had the one for the locket made from this.
A fine-looking man, said Mr. Donovan, heartily. How would it suit you, Miss Conway, to give me the pleasure of your company to Coney next Sunday afternoon?
A month later they announced their engagement to Mrs. Scott and the other boarders. Miss Conway continued to wear black.
A week after the announcement the two sat on the same bench in the downtown park, while the fluttering leaves of the trees made a dim kinetoscopic picture of them in the moonlight. But Donovan had worn a look of abstracted gloom all day. He was so silent to-night that loves lips could not keep back any longer the questions that loves heart propounded.
Whats the matter, Andy, you are so solemn and grouchy to-night?
Nothing, Maggie.
I know better. Cant I tell? You never acted this way before. What is it?
Its nothing much, Maggie.
Yes it is; and I want to know. Ill bet its some other girl you are thinking about. All right. Why dont you go get her if you want her? Take your arm away, if you please.
Ill tell you then, said Andy, wisely, but I guess you wont understand it exactly. Youve heard of Mike Sullivan, havent you? Big Mike Sullivan, everybody calls him.
No, I havent, said Maggie. And I dont want to, if he makes you act like this. Who is he?
Hes the biggest man in New York, said Andy, almost reverently. He can about do anything he wants to with Tammany[407] or any other old thing in the political line. Hes a mile high and as broad as East River. You say anything against Big Mike, and youll have a million men on your collarbone in about two seconds. Why, he made a visit over to the old country awhile back, and the kings took to their holes like rabbits.
Well, Big Mikes a friend of mine. I aint more than deuce-high in the district as far as influence goes, but Mikes as good a friend to a little man, or a poor man as he is to a big one. I met him to-day on the Bowery, and what do you think he does? Comes up and shakes hands. Andy, says he, Ive been keeping cases on you. Youve been putting in some good licks over on your side of the street, and Im proud of you. Whatll you take to drink? He takes a cigar, and I take a highball[408]. I told him I was going to get married in two weeks. Andy, says he, send me an invitation, so Ill keep in mind of it, and Ill come to the wedding. Thats what Big Mike says to me; and he always does what he says.
You dont understand it, Maggie, but Id have one of my hands cut off to have Big Mike Sullivan at our wedding. It would be the proudest day of my life. When he goes to a mans wedding, theres a guy being married thats made for life. Now, thats why Im maybe looking sore to-night.
Why dont you invite him, then, if hes so much to the mustard? said Maggie, lightly.
Theres a reason why I cant, said Andy, sadly. Theres a reason why he mustnt be there. Dont ask me what it is, for I cant tell you.
Oh, I dont care, said Maggie. Its something about politics, of course. But its no reason why you cant smile at me.
Maggie, said Andy, presently, do you think as much of me as you did of your as you did of the Count Mazzini?
He waited a long time, but Maggie did not reply. And then, suddenly she leaned against his shoulder and began to cry to cry and shake with sobs, holding his arm tightly, and wetting the crêpe de Chine with tears.
There, there, there! soothed Andy, putting aside his own trouble. And what is it, now?
Andy, sobbed Maggie. Ive lied to you, and youll never marry me, or love me anymore. But I feel that Ive got to tell. Andy, there never was so much as the little finger of a count. I never had a beau in my life. But all the other girls had; and they talked about em; and that seemed to make the fellows like em more. And, Andy, I look swell in black you know I do. So I went out to a photograph store and bought that picture, and had a little one made for my locket, and made up all that story about the Count, and about his being killed, so I could wear black. And nobody can love a liar, and youll shake me, Andy, and Ill die for shame. Oh, there never was anybody I liked but you and thats all.