He had not before alluded to Mrs. Whitney, though I suppose he understood that she had gone; I appreciated his delicacy.
"I'm afraid you'll be asked about that," he went on; "asked, I mean, how a young woman without money maintains a fine apartment. They'll inquire about your servants, the daily expenses of your table, your wine bills, if you ever have any; then they'll question you about your visitors, their character and number, and try to wring admissions from you, and to give sinister shades to innocent relations. The reporters will all be there, a swarm of them. You're a semi-public character, more's the pity, and some lawyers like to be known for their severity to debtors. What a field day for the press! The beautiful Miss Winship in supplementary proceedings—columns of testimony, pages of pictures—! Ugh! In a word, the experience is so severe that you cannot undergo it."
"I don't see how it's to be helped; is it a crime to live alone?" I said. "I won't ask Uncle Timothy for money—and have Aunt Frank know about it."
Again he hesitated, then he said more slowly, but plumping out the last words in a kind of desperation: "I've heard a woman—once—asked if she had a lover—to pay the money, you know."
I didn't understand at first; then a flush deepened upon my face.
"They wouldn't dare! This woman knows all about me; why, she's Meg Van Dam's dressmaker; Mrs. Whitney's too—" I said.
"I've heard it done," John repeated patiently. "You must pardon me. I didn't want to go into this phase of it, but it may explain what, with your permission, I am about to do. Now, before I go—for I must go at once to find this attorney, at his house, the Democratic Club, anywhere—I must be frank with you."
He was already at the door, where he turned and faced me, looking almost handsome in his sturdy manliness, his colour heightened by excitement.
"I must tell you one thing," he went on very slowly. "I haven't in all the world a fraction of the money called for by this one bill; but in a way I have made some success. I am beginning to be known. If I myself offer terms, so much cash down, so much a month, pledging my word for the payment, the woman's lawyer will agree. She'll be glad to get the money in that way, or in any way. But I must guard your reputation. I shall tell plaintiff's counsel that you are my affianced wife, that I didn't know how badly you were in debt—both statements are true—and that I assume payment. I wish to assure you that, in thus asserting our old relation, I shall not presume upon the liberty I am obliged to take."
I think I have treated John badly; yet he brought me help. And he had no thought of recompense. Since he has seen how useless it was, he has ceased to pester me with love making, but has been simply, kindly helpful. And I have been so lonely, so harassed and tormented.