The entries of May 6, 7, and 8 related that he had walked past “her” house. He avoided mentioning her name, as an ancient Hebrew would have avoided mentioning the name of Jehovah, or a modern Japanese the name of his emperor.
On Monday, May 9, Mr. Francis wrote in the book:
“I have a note from her, thanking me for my efforts in her behalf and regretting that McDavitt’s is so unprogressive. She ends: ‘I shall apply to you again when your store has got out of the rut of ages. I like McDavitt’s for its air of gentility and old-fashioned niceness.’ How she can write! I shall treasure her note. She says she would have written, thanking me, before, but my note reached her just as they were moving to another apartment. She sends me the new address unconsciously on the heading of her letter. I am glad I know she has moved. Suppose I had continued to walk before her former residence, thinking she still lived there? And yet that might have served me just as well, as long as I thought she was there.
“Now I have to record a very unpleasant matter. Mr. A. I. Sugenheim, an attorney-at-law, was in the store to-day to see me, and he said Mrs. Benson had decided to start a suit for breach of promise against me for $10,000; but if I wished to avoid the disgrace of having my name and picture in all the papers, I could pay the money, and he would not start the suit. He gave me an unpleasant impression. I said I should have to consult a lawyer before I decided. I recognized Mrs. Benson had grounds for damages, but I didn’t have $10,000. He said I could pay in instalments.
“I said I would consider the matter. He then said he would compromise for $5000 cash. My dealings with traveling-salesmen stood me in good stead. I said I would not think of paying a cent more than $2000. I had $1200 in the savings-bank, and I would pay the rest $100 a month.
“He begged me to remember that I had committed a very grave offense. Both from a legal and moral point of view I was culpable, and I had no right to pinch pennies to put myself square with the world. I was obliged to admit all this. But I did not like the way he said it; his manner did not give me a feeling of frankness and sincerity. I answered that $2000 was a great deal of money. ‘Make it $2500, for your conscience’ sake, at least,’ he said. I saw he was weakening; his nature was exactly like that of many of the salesmen I have to deal with. I turned away, saying, ‘I will make it $2100 and I cannot in conscience make it a cent more.’ He caught me by the arm and told me to believe him I would regret it to my dying day if I did not make it $2400, anyway; but I was firm. Finally he agreed to accept $2100. Unpleasant as the details were, I have a great feeling of relief. To-morrow I shall withdraw all my savings from the savings-bank and meet him at his office at 6:30 P.M. After that I shall be free.
“Walked past her new home this evening. It is perhaps not so nice as the other place, but eminently respectable. I debated all the way whether I would act unwarrantedly if I wrote her another note in answer to her last. How she would despise me if she knew the unfortunate details of my private life! I bow my head in shame when I think of her and of them.”
“Tuesday, May 10.
“Mr. Sugenheim said last night Mrs. Benson had refused to accept $2100. She had been wounded too deeply, and disgraced forever in the eyes of the boarders. I was overcome with grief at this news. But she would accept $2400. I at once agreed. I can save nearly two hundred dollars a month out of my salary by living carefully, and I feel more absolved from my turpitude than if I had paid a smaller amount. But it is a base thing to try to feel that I can acquit myself by a money payment. This will be a lesson to me never to trifle with a woman’s feelings again unless I really love her. I think I can say on my honor that I never really loved Mrs. Benson. This makes me feel at once more blameworthy and more relieved than if I had loved her. It is hard to explain just how.
“Walked past her new home again this evening. I have chosen another window on the third floor, right-hand corner, as the one that belongs to her. This is foolish, but why should I not do it if it pleases me? I started to write several notes to her this evening, but tore them up. I have no excuse to inflict myself upon her.”