"I am sure, as I gaze into your eyes, that I trust you implicitly. The recollection of a woman whom I once trusted to my sorrow came between us for an instant, that is all. I am going to believe in you without the slightest mental reservation, but I want to say just one thing. If I discover that I am again deceived it will not be the paltry cash I shall mind. I shall only regret the new wrench to my confidence in the honesty of your sex. What you will need in the present emergency will have but little effect on my income. I would willingly make you a present of it, if no plan such as I have in mind were a part of the contract. Marjorie," I continued, leaning toward her and taking up one of her hands respectfully, "I trust you perfectly. Tell me how much money you wish and I will bring it within an hour. As the expense is caused entirely on my account, I have no idea of deducting a cent of it from your salary, which, if agreeable will be the same you already receive, twenty dollars a week. While I shall not promise too much, let me add that this will not be the extent of your compensation, by any means, if we get along together as well as I hope. Now, my dear girl, say there are no more lions in my path and that your last stipulation is agreed to."
She did not answer at once and her delay filled me with the most disagreeable forebodings.
"I want to go," she said, at last; and it was something that she did not compel me to release her hand. "I want to go, very much indeed. Only, you must not expect—" she paused again—"anything more than—"
"Do not distress yourself," I replied, divining what was in her mind. "I am going to the West Indies. Until the importation of coal begins at Newcastle, no one will dream of taking a woman on such a journey for an improper purpose."
She brightened visibly, and although she released my hand at the same moment she did it in a way that implied naught of distrust.
"It is a peculiar arrangement, though, take it altogether, is it not?" she asked, softly. "You are a man with, I judge, some knowledge of the world. What would your masculine friends say if you told them your plan? Would they believe in the innocence of your motive, as you ask me to do?"
I told her that my masculine friends were like others of their sex, I presumed, and might put the worst construction on anything, if they chose. There was not one of them to whom I had imparted my secret, and there would be none. I had looked over the "Madiana's" passenger list and seen no familiar name. There was not a chance in ten thousand that any person on the boat would know me, and if they did, there was a practical impossibility that they would know my family. I promised the most perfect discretion while on board, desiring as much as she to avoid exciting suspicion. Would she, I asked her, be any better off if I had proved what she imagined when she answered my advertisement—an elderly gentleman with rheumatism and green glasses? The proverb that there is no fool like an old fool might answer that question. As she had remarked in her letter, Mrs. Grundy could not arrange the lives of all her friends, and the best thing was to satisfy one's own self.
This seemed to please her, for she dropped the subject and asked particulars about the amount of baggage that each passenger was allowed to carry; which put me in better spirits, for it indicated that her face was at last turned toward the morning. I told her that a steamer trunk for the stateroom, a handbag, and a larger trunk to put in the hold was what I intended to take for myself, and I thought she would need the same. I asked if she had the articles, saying that, if she had not, I would be glad to order them sent to her.
"I have only a small trunk—it has managed hitherto to hold what things I have," was her reply.
"Then, with your permission, I will procure the entire outfit," I said. "Now, about the clothing and that sort of stuff. How much cash shall you require?"