They had arrived at the Wright home, where Billy’s sister and brother-in-law, Hal, as well as Mrs. Bennett, always had a warm welcome for Sydney.
There was no time for further confidential speech, for as soon as the new baby, Billy’s nephew, had been duly exhibited, dinner was served; and afterwards both boys had appointments.
Billy went out of his way to accompany Sydney, who was to attend a meeting of his troop down town, the Chetwoots (black bears), the newsboys’ troop of the Boy Scouts. Billy did not wish it known that he was to call on Erminie Fisher, especially after their conversation concerning her.
Ever since a day in early winter when she had caught her foot in a car track and fallen, and Billy that moment passing, had helped her up and back to her home, his calls had grown more and more frequent.
Conditions in his own home made these calls doubly pleasant. The advent of his small nephew had robbed him largely of both his mother and his freedom, for he was rather a noisy boy around the house, and the youngster resented noise. And in place of his mother’s good-night talks, now rare, Billy found a luring substitute in the flattering chatter of the attractive young woman at 745 East Street.
Erminie was beautiful and subtle; beautiful, because she could not help being so; subtle, partly by nature and partly because all her life, by means of wheedling and cajolery, she had adroitly managed—or evaded—her coarse, drinking, but clever father. There were times, however, when no art prevailed against his tyranny. Still she was not bad, but rather the victim of her parentage and environment. She was brilliant, generous, energetic; and when aroused to its need, sincere and faithful.
Her mother was not wise. Her hopes for Erminie were all matrimonial; and her oftenest repeated advice was, “Keep your eye peeled for the chap in the automobile, Sis. It’s money that makes the woman go; and your face is your fortune only when you’re young.”
Into this girl’s sordid life came Billy, clean, young, with high ambitions. Little he dreamed that Erminie’s foot, purposely stuck between the tracks, was as well able as the other to bear her weight during that limping walk home; and not for any bribe would she have confessed; for if the acquaintance began merely as an escapade, it had grown into a friendship which she cherished as the most beautiful thing in her life.
She was looking for him this evening and saw him when he entered the block. Before he could ring she was at the door. “Let’s walk in the park,” she said breathily, closing the door behind her. “Dad—dad and ma are quarrelling, and I can’t bear you to hear them.” She sighed and walked on rapidly, leaving Billy with no alternative but to follow.
He noticed a tone of weariness he had never heard before, for she was the embodiment of high spirits. Also he thought it strange that she should not even greet him. “Is it—is it anything you could tell me about?”