“I don’t know that she’s in town, even,” little Barlow replied, “but if she is, I’ve nothing left to sell her, and I don’t know how to beg. If it were for anyone else, say Bolton or Sidney for instance, I might try to do it, but for myself, or you, or the little ones—who after all are part of me—I really couldn’t. I’m afraid I’ve too much pride left even yet!”
“Well,” said his wife, “if that is the only objection, I can suggest an ingenious course of action for you. An idea, which is nothing short of brilliant, has just occurred to me. Why don’t you ask her for the money as though it were for some one else? You can give her that impression easily without telling an untruth. You can say that you know a man—which you do, don’t you, you big goose?”—she rattled on, laughing heartily—“that you know a man who is in great trouble—which is again true, isn’t it? You can expatiate on the sad particulars of his case just as much as ever you please, in fact the more you do so the better. If this will save your pride and enable you to ask her for the money, I don’t think, all things considered, the deceit is an unpardonable one. We were given our wits by a kind Providence, and there’s no law that I know of—either in Heaven or Earth—against our using them on desperate occasions like this.”
Little Barlow, in spite of his sorry plight, joined his wife in a burst of laughter on the conclusion of her monologue and rolled over and over on the sofa in convulsions of irrepressible merriment.
“Yes,” continued his wife, laughing so that she could hardly speak, “let’s save our pride and try to get out of our difficulty at the same time. Mrs. Harvey thinks we are fairly well off, as we dress well, have rather a swell looking studio and apartment, and appear tolerably prosperous to the outside world, so she will never suspect she is assisting you, whom, I am sure, however, she would much rather help than a perfect stranger. However, to be doubly secure, we will start a subscription book for the unhappy mortal, whose name you must not disclose out of consideration for his sensitiveness, and I will put my name down at the very top of the list for sixty francs. You must also make Bolton and Sidney each write down their names and the amounts they have loaned you as if they were contributions.”
“You’re a genius,” said little Barlow admiringly, giving vent to a fresh burst of laughter, “and I’ll take your advice. It’s too bad we’re obliged to impose on the old lady’s credulity, but it won’t hurt her seriously, and it will save us all from certain ruin; besides, we can pay her back later when something lucky turns up.”
Accordingly, the next evening, little Barlow decked himself out very carefully in his best suit, pinned a gardenia in the lapel of his coat, and, looking exceedingly prosperous and handsome, called on Mrs. Harvey at the hotel Continental. He was fortunate enough to find her at home, and alone. He chatted with her pleasantly on all sorts of subjects, and finally leading the conversation ’round with considerable tact to the heart breaking case of THE MAN HE KNEW, surprised himself at the success of his hypocrisy.
He told the old lady the most navrante details of his situation, and so worked on her sympathies with the probabilities of the wife and babies becoming homeless, that she positively shed tears, and felt in her pocket for her purse; and when—judging the moment to be opportune—he showed her the subscription book, she tremulously wrote her name down for one hundred francs and paid him the money then and there.
He felt rather mean and uncomfortable in taking it, but it meant life and hope to him again, so he thanked her fervently for the MAN HE KNEW and, promising to give her news of him in the near future, somewhat abruptly took his departure.
His little wife was overjoyed at the success of her scheme; but they still lacked twelve francs. This sum they finally raised by pawning a silver belt-buckle, two broken scarf pins, and their four remaining coffee spoons, and little Barlow was able to pay the horrid frame-maker in full and tell him what he thought of him in perfect safety.