Betty Wales, B. A.: A story for girls

by Edith K. Dunton

The girls nodded. “Do go on,” urged Madeline.

“Well,” Billy took up the tale, “this morning we started out in a taximeter cab. First we went to two or three big stores and Trevelyan looked at rugs and curtains and one thing and another that his sister had selected and ordered them sent out to their house. At least he said so. My not speaking French made me an easy mark for any tale he wanted to tell me. Once or twice he counted his money to see if he had enough to do one more errand with before we went to the bank. It was too early to go when we started.”

“Did he actually pay for the curtains and things?” asked Babe.

Billy hesitated. “I—well, I guess I didn’t notice. Judging by the sequel I’m pretty sure he didn’t. But he pretended that he had, and finally he said we must go to the bank next. I waited in the carriage. When he came back he was awfully put out. It seems there is a rule in this town that you can’t draw money from a bank—from that one where he had his account anyway—until you’ve been here three days. Something to do with the police regulations about foreign visitors. His three days wouldn’t be up till to-morrow, so he couldn’t draw any money. He said he’d known the rule before but he’d forgotten about it.”

“Well, couldn’t his shopping wait a day?” asked Babe.

“All but one item,” answered Billy solemnly. “You see the ball to-night was to be in honor of his sister’s birthday, and he wanted to take her a birthday present. She’d chosen that, too, at his request, and we went to look at it. It was a beauty of a pearl pendant. Trevelyan told the shop-keeper how he was fixed, and ordered the pendant kept for him until to-morrow. Naturally I asked if I couldn’t accommodate him with a little loan, so we could take the pendant out with us to-night. But he thanked me and said he couldn’t think of borrowing of me, and we drove off. He was awfully cut up about the pendant, though he kept saying it didn’t matter at all, only, as he put it, ‘You know how women are about such things. They like a present at the time. If they’re going to have a birthday, they want their gifts on the day. By the next day they’ve forgotten all about it.’ But this time it couldn’t be helped, he said, and it didn’t really matter. And then he’d remark again that he was afraid his sister would be awfully disappointed, especially as he’d made a point of her picking out the pendant and all. But when I offered to lend him some money again, he seemed almost hurt and refused quick as a flash. Finally he changed the subject, said it was a shame to make me waste a morning in Paris over his private affairs, and asked me where we should go sightseeing. It made me feel awfully small to think how considerate and unselfish he was, and I pulled out all the money I had and fairly forced it into his hands. He seemed pleased and thanked me but said it wouldn’t be any use to him because it wasn’t enough. The pendant cost fifty pounds, and he needed forty to make up what he had. So I thought how we were to be together all the afternoon at the Louvre with you girls and at the ball in the evening, and then sleeping in adjoining rooms, and in the morning he could get his money all right. So I stuffed my beggarly thirty dollars into my pocket, and told him to tell the man to drive straight to the American Express, so I could get two hundred dollars’ worth of checks cashed.”

“And that time he didn’t object?” asked Betty.

Billy shook his head. “Told me I was a good fellow, wrung my hand till it ached, and assured me that it was only a day’s loan or he wouldn’t think of taking it. Then we got the money, had a gay little lunch, and stopped at our hotel on our way to meet you. I didn’t go in. Trevelyan wanted to change his coat for a lighter one, because it had turned so hot. He stopped for the mail to be distributed, so he was gone some minutes, and we were ten minutes late in meeting you.”

“And then you went to the wrong place,” said Babbie severely.

“You can’t blame me for that,” returned Billy. “I asked right away if there could be any mistake about the meeting-place and Trevelyan said no. Later he explained that there was another principal entrance, though he didn’t suppose any one would consider it the main one, and he suggested that I wait while he went to look for you at the other entrance and in some of the galleries. He’d been gone about five minutes when I remembered my two hundred dollars, saw through his little game, and started in hot pursuit.”