"When we're married. Yes," he said thoughtfully, "that's the way she stated it. She wanted me to put in all I have----"
"Don't do it!" said Laura decidedly.
He glanced at her with sharp inquiry. "Do you mean you would distrust Mr. Corliss?'
"I wasn't thinking of that: I don't know whether I'd trust him or not--I think I wouldn't; there's something veiled about him, and I don't believe he is an easy man to know. What I meant was that I don't believe it would really be a good thing for you with Cora."
"It would please her, of course--thinking I deferred so much to her judgment."
"Don't do it!" she said again, impulsively.
"I don't see how I can," he returned sorrowfully.
"It's my work for all the years since I got out of college, and if I lost it I'd have to begin all over again. It would mean postponing everything. Cora isn't a girl you can ask to share a little salary, and if it were a question of years, perhaps--perhaps Cora might not feel she could wait for me, you see."
He made this explanation with plaintive and boyish sincerity, hesitatingly, and as if pleading a cause. And Laura, after a long look at him, turned away, and in her eyes were actual tears of compassion for the incredible simpleton.
"I see," she said. "Perhaps she might not."
"Of course," he went on, "she's fond of having nice things, and she thinks this is a great chance for us to be millionaires; and then, too, I think she may feel that it would please Mr. Corliss and help to save him from disappointment. She seems to have taken a great fancy to him."
Laura glanced at him, but did not speak.
"He IS attractive," continued Richard feebly. "I think he has a great deal of what people call `magnetism': he's the kind of man who somehow makes you want to do what he wants you to. He seems a manly, straightforward sort, too--so far as one can tell--and when he came to me with his scheme I was strongly inclined to go into it. But it is too big a gamble, and I can't, though I was sorry to disappoint him myself. He was perfectly cheerful about it and so pleasant it made me feel small. I don't wonder at all that Cora likes him so much. Besides, he seems to understand her."
Laura looked very grave. "I think he does," she said slowly.
"And then he's `different,'" said Richard. "He's more a `man of the world' than most of us here: she never saw anything just like him before, and she's seen US all her life. She likes change, of course. That's natural," he said gently. "Poor Vilas says she wants a man to be different every day, and if he isn't, then she wants a different man every day."
"You've rather taken Ray Vilas under your wing, haven't you?" asked Laura.
"Oh, no," he answered deprecatingly. "I only try to keep him with me so he'll stay away from downtown as much as possible."
"Does he talk much of Cora?"
"All the time. There's no stopping him. I suppose he can't help it, because he thinks of nothing else."
"Isn't that rather--rather queer for you?"
"`Queer'?" he repeated.
"No, I suppose not!" She laughed impatiently. "And probably you don't think it's `queer' of you to sit here helplessly, and let another man take your place----"
"But I don't `let' him, Laura," he protested.
"No, he just does it!"
"Well," he smiled, "you must admit my efforts to supplant him haven't----"
"It won't take any effort now," she said, rising quickly.
Valentine Corliss came into their view upon the sidewalk in front, taking his departure. Seeing that they observed him, he lifted his hat to Laura and nodded a cordial good-day to Lindley.
Then he went on.
Just before he reached the corner of the lot, he encountered upon the pavement a citizen of elderly and plain appearance, strolling with a grandchild. The two men met and passed, each upon his opposite way, without pausing and without salutation, and neither Richard nor Laura, whose eyes were upon the meeting, perceived that they had taken cognizance of each other. But one had asked a question and the other had answered.
Mr. Pryor spoke in a low monotone, with a rapidity as singular as the restrained but perceptible emphasis he put upon one word of his question.
"I got you in the park," he said; and it is to be deduced that "got" was argot. "You're not DOING anything here, are you?"
"No!" answered Corliss with condensed venom, his back already to the other. He fanned himself with his hat as he went on. Mr. Pryor strolled up the street with imperturbable benevolence.
"Your coast is cleared," said Laura, "since you wouldn't clear it yourself."
"Wish me luck," said Richard as he left her.
She nodded brightly.
