CHAPTER IV.
SMILES AND TEARS.
“Now there is no use in your arguing, Sadie––I love him and I have given him my promise.”
The two cousins were alone again speeding up Fifth avenue in an automobile, a long-bodied foreign car that had been put at the disposal of Mrs. Burton by the New York agent of Mr. Hogg. The Omaha suitor for the hand of the fair Helen had also thrown in a red-headed French chauffeur, which is travelling a bit in the matter of chauffeurs. But as he understood only automobile English it was a delightful arrangement for Helen and Sadie, and permitted them absolute freedom of speech while riding behind him.
“If I had only known him longer, or had been introduced to him differently,” sighed Sadie.
“But haven’t I known all about him for years?” protested Helen Burton. “Of course, we were only school girls when he made that wonderful rescue at Narragansett Pier. Don’t you remember how we rushed down to the beach to see him, but got there just too late? He had gone out to his yacht or 29 something. Oh, it was just splendid, Sadie. And he is so wonderfully modest about it. Why, when I reminded him of his heroism he pretended to have forgotten all about it. Just imagine Mr. Hogg forgetting a thing like that! Do you know what Jabez Hogg would do under similar circumstances, Sadie Burton? Well, I’ll tell you––he’d hire the biggest hall in Omaha and reproduce the whole thing with moving pictures as an advertisement for his beef canneries.”
The young girl had worked herself into a passion and was making savage little gestures with her clenched fists.
“But what I can’t understand, Helen dear, is why a man like Travers Gladwin should make such a mystery of himself and try to avoid introducing you to his friends. I am sure,” persisted Sadie, despite the gathering anger in her companion’s eyes, “that Aunt Elvira would not object to him. You know she is just crazy to break into the swim here in New York, and the Gladwins are the very best of people. I think it wouldn’t take much to urge her even to throw over Mr. Hogg for Gladwin, if you’d only let her take charge of the wedding.”
“Nothing of the sort,” denied Helen hotly. “Aunt Elvira is bound on her solemn word of honor to Mr. Hogg. She will fight for him to the last ditch, though she knows I hate him.”
“Don’t you think, Helen,” said the younger girl, 30 more soberly, “that you are simply trying to make yourself look at it that way? I know Mr. Hogg isn’t a pretty man and he has an awful name, but”–––