Not a bad guess, dad; you havent missed it far.
Ah, said Anthony, keenly; whats her name?
Richard began to walk up and down the library floor. There was enough comradeship and sympathy in this crude old father of his to draw his confidence.
Why dont you ask her? demanded old Anthony. Shell jump at you. Youve got the money and the looks, and youre a decent boy. Your hands are clean. Youve got no Eureka soap on em. Youve been to college, but shell overlook that.
I havent had a chance, said Richard.
Make one, said Anthony. Take her for a walk in the park, or a straw ride, or walk home with her from church. Chance! Pshaw!
I havent had a chance, said Richard.
Make one, said Anthony. Take her for a walk in the park, or a straw ride, or walk home with her from church. Chance! Pshaw!
You dont know the social mill, dad. Shes part of the stream that turns it. Every hour and minute of her time is arranged for days in advance. I must have that girl, dad, or this town is a blackjack swamp forevermore. And I cant write it I cant do that.
Tut! said the old man. Do you mean to tell me that with all the money Ive got you cant get an hour or two of a girls time for yourself?
Ive put it off too late. Shes going to sail for Europe at noon day after to-morrow for a two years stay. Im to see her alone to-morrow evening for a few minutes. Shes at Larchmont[129] now at her aunts. I cant go there. But Im allowed to meet her with a cab at the Grand Central Station to-morrow evening at the 8.30 train. We drive down Broadway to Wallacks[130] at a gallop, where her mother and a box party will be waiting for us in the lobby. Do you think she would listen to a declaration from me during that six or eight minutes under those circumstances? No. And what chance would I have in the theatre or afterward? None. No, dad, this is one tangle that your money cant unravel. We cant buy one minute of time with cash; if we could, rich people would live longer. Theres no hope of getting a talk with Miss Lantry before she sails.
All right, Richard, my boy, said old Anthony, cheerfully. You may run along down to your club now. Im glad it aint your liver. But dont forget to burn a few punk sticks in the joss house to the great god Mazuma[131] from time to time. You say money wont buy time? Well, of course, you cant order eternity wrapped up and delivered at your residence for a price, but Ive seen Father Time get pretty bad stone bruises on his heels when he walked through the gold diggings.
That night came Aunt Ellen, gentle, sentimental, wrinkled, sighing, oppressed by wealth, in to Brother Anthony at his evening paper, and began discourse on the subject of lovers woes.
He told me all about it, said brother Anthony, yawning. I told him my bank account was at his service. And then he began to knock money. Said money couldnt help. Said the rules of society couldnt be bucked for a yard by a team of ten-millionaires.
Oh, Anthony, sighed Aunt Ellen, I wish you would not think so much of money. Wealth is nothing where a true affection is concerned. Love is all-powerful. If he only had spoken earlier! She could not have refused our Richard. But now I fear it is too late. He will have no opportunity to address her. All your gold cannot bring happiness to your son.
At eight oclock the next evening Aunt Ellen took a quaint old gold ring from a moth-eaten case and gave it to Richard.
Wear it to-night, nephew, she begged. Your mother gave it to me. Good luck in love she said it brought. She asked me to give it to you when you had found the one you loved.
Young Rockwall took the ring reverently and tried it on his smallest finger. It slipped as far as the second joint and stopped. He took it off and stuffed it into his vest pocket, after the manner of man. And then he phoned for his cab.
At the station he captured Miss Lantry out of the gadding mob at eight thirty-two.
We mustnt keep mamma and the others waiting, said she.
To Wallacks Theatre as fast as you can drive! said Richard loyally.
They whirled up Forty-second to Broadway, and then down the white-starred lane that leads from the soft meadows of sunset to the rocky hills of morning.
At Thirty-fourth Street young Richard quickly thrust up the trap and ordered the cabman to stop.
Ive dropped a ring, he apologised, as he climbed out. It was my mothers, and Id hate to lose it. I wont detain you a minute I saw where it fell.
In less than a minute he was back in the cab with the ring.
But within that minute a crosstown car had stopped directly in front of the cab. The cabman tried to pass to the left, but a heavy express wagon cut him off. He tried the right, and had to back away from a furniture van that had no business to be there. He tried to back out, but dropped his reins and swore dutifully. He was blockaded in a tangled mess of vehicles and horses.
One of those street blockades had occurred that sometimes tie up commerce and movement quite suddenly in the big city.
Why dont you drive on? said Miss Lantry, impatiently. Well be late.