SHE went down to Fourth Street, along it to Race, to the _Commercial_ building.At the entrance to the corridor at the far side of which were elevator and stairway, she paused and considered.She turned into the business office.
"Is Mr.Roderick Spenser here?" she asked of a heavily built, gray-bearded man in the respectable black of the old-fashioned financial employee, showing the sobriety and stolidity of his character in his dress.
"He works upstairs," replied the old man, beaming approvingly upon the pretty, stylish young woman.
"Is he there now?"
"I'll telephone." He went into the rear office, presently returned with the news that Mr.Spenser had that moment left, was probably on his way down in the elevator."And you'll catch him if you go to the office entrance right away."Susan, the inexperienced in the city ways of men with women, did not appreciate what a tribute to her charms and to her character, as revealed in the honest, grave eyes, was the old man's unhesitating assumption that Spenser would wish to see her.She lost no time in retracing her steps.As she reached the office entrance she saw at the other end of the long hall two young men coming out of the elevator.After the habit of youth, she had rehearsed speech and manner for this meeting; but at sight of him she was straightway trembling so that she feared she would be unable to speak at all.The entrance light was dim, but as he glanced at her in passing he saw her looking at him and his hand moved toward his hat.His face had not changed--the same frank, careless expression, the same sympathetic, understanding look out of the eyes.But he was the city man in dress now--notably the city man.
"Mr.Spenser," said she shyly.
He halted; his companion went on.He lifted his hat, looked inquiringly at her--the look of the enthusiast and connoisseur on the subject of pretty women, when he finds a new specimen worthy of his attention.
"Don't you know me?"
His expression of puzzled and flirtatious politeness gradually cleared away.The lighting up of his eyes, the smile round his mouth delighted her; and she grew radiant when he exclaimed eagerly, "Why, it's the little girl of the rock again! How you've grown--in a year--less than a year!""Yes, I suppose I have," said she, thinking of it for the first time.Then, to show him at once what a good excuse she had for intruding again, she hastened to add, "I've come to pay you that money you loaned me."He burst out laughing, drew her into the corridor where the light was brighter."And you've gone back to your husband," he said--she noted the quick, sharp change in his voice.
"Why do you think that?" she said.
The way his eyes lingered upon the charming details toilet that indicated anything but poverty might of a have given her a simple explanation.He offered another.
"I can't explain.It's your different expression--a kind of experienced look."The color flamed and flared in Susan's face.
"You are--happy?" he asked.
"I've not seen--him," evaded she."Ever since I left Carrollton I've been wandering about.""Wandering about?" he repeated absently, his eyes busy with her appearance.
"And now," she went on, nervous and hurried, "I'm here in town--for a while.""Then I may come to see you?"
"I'd be glad.I'm alone in a furnished room I've taken--out near Lincoln Park.""Alone! You don't mean you're still wandering?""Still wandering."
He laughed."Well, it certainly is doing you no harm.The reverse." An embarrassed pause, then he said with returning politeness: "Maybe you'll dine with me this evening?"She beamed."I've been hoping you'd ask me.""It won't be as good as the one on the rock.""There never will be another dinner like that," declared she.
"Your leg is well?"
Her question took him by surprise.In his interest and wonder as to the new mystery of this mysterious young person he had not recalled the excuses he made for dropping out of the entanglement in which his impulses had put him.The color poured into his face."Ages ago," he replied, hurriedly."I'd have forgotten it, if it hadn't been for you.I've never been able to get you out of my head." And as a matter of truth she had finally dislodged his cousin Nell--without lingering long or vividly herself.Young Mr.Spenser was too busy and too self-absorbed a man to bother long about any one flower in a world that was one vast field abloom with open-petaled flowers.
"Nor I you," said she, as pleased as he had expected, and showing it with a candor that made her look almost the child he had last seen."You see, I owed you that money, and I wanted to pay it.""Oh--_that_ was all!" exclaimed he, half jokingly."Wait here a minute." And he went to the door, looked up and down the street, then darted across it and disappeared into the St.Nicholas Hotel.He was not gone more than half a minute.
"I had to see Bayne and tell him," he explained when he was with her again."I was to have dined with him and some others--over in the cafe.Instead, you and I will dine upstairs.You won't mind my not being dressed?"It seemed to her he was dressed well enough for any occasion.
"I'd rather you had on the flannel trousers rolled up to your knees," said she."But I can imagine them.""What a dinner that was!" cried he."And the ride afterward,"with an effort at ease that escaped her bedazzled eyes."Why didn't you ever write?"He expected her to say that she did not know his address, and was ready with protests and excuses.But she replied:
"I didn't have the money to pay what I owed you." They were crossing Fourth Street and ascending the steps to the hotel.
"Then, too--afterward--when I got to know a little more about life I----Oh, no matter.Really, the money was the only reason."But he had stopped short.In a tone so correctly sincere that a suspicious person might perhaps have doubted the sincerity of the man using it, he said:
