MOLLY AND I 
 
 OR 
 
 THE SILVER RING 
 
 FRANK R. ADAMS
 
 
 MOLLY AND I 
 
 OB 
 
 THE SILVER RING
 
 "Uncle Sam, I love you."
 
 MOLLY AND I 
 
 OB 
 
 THE SILVER RING 
 
 BY 
 
 FRANK R. ADAMS 
 
 AUTHOR OF "FIVE FRIDAYS" 
 
 ILLUSTRATED BY FRANK GODWIN 
 
 BOSTON 
 SMALL, MAYNARD & COMPANY 
 
 PUBLISHERS
 
 COPYRIGHT, 1915 
 BY SMALL, MAYNAHD & COMPANY 
 
 (iJfCOBPOBATED) 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY PRESS, CAMBRIDGE, XT. 8. A.
 
 THIS BOOK 
 
 LIKE MY HEART AND HAND, BELONGS TO 
 
 A. L. A. 
 
 WITHOUT WHOM MOLLY WOULD 
 NEVES HAVE EXISTED 
 
 2229126
 
 THE SILVER RING 
 
 The silver ring so dear that once thou gavest me, 
 Fast in its tiny circlet our vows yet encloses : 
 
 The confidant of many fond mem'ries of thee, 
 Alone, in hours of sorrow, my heart it composes. 
 
 A ribbon such as binds a nosegay sweet of roses 
 
 Still the flowers entwines, tho' faded they may be; 
 So this poor silver ring, that once thou gavest me, 
 Fast in its tiny circlet our vows yet encloses. 
 
 So when, forgetting all, my heart at length reposes 
 In the last home that nevermore my eye shall see, 
 
 When I shall lie asleep, all pale amid the roses, 
 I will that on my withering finger there be 
 The silver ring so dear that once thou gavest me. 
 
 Song by C. CHAMINADE 
 English Version by Dr. Thomas Baker
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 I MARRIAGES ARE NOT ALL MADE IN 
 
 HEAVEN 15 
 
 II FOR THAT MATTER, NEITHER ARE 
 
 WILLS 24 
 
 III THE STORY OF THE FAIRY QUEEN WHO 
 
 HAD A WOODEN LEG 37 
 
 IV A SILVER WEDDING RING 51 
 
 ! i , V INTRODUCING A VAMPIRE 63 
 
 VI A STRANGE SEA SPELL 76 
 
 VII AN APARTMENT SCARCELY LARGE 
 
 ENOUGH FOR ONE 91 
 
 VIII Is NOT LARGE ENOUGH FOR Two . . 106 
 
 IX NOT EVEN IF ONE Is A VERY SMALL 
 
 GIRL .....' 119 
 
 X So THE GlRL WILL HAVE TO LEAVE . 132 
 
 XI THE STRANGE TALE OF THE BALD- 
 HEADED MERMAID 153 
 
 XII LATER BULLETIN : THE MAN HAS TO 
 
 LEAVE 167 
 
 XIII THE APARTMENT is DISCOVERED TO 
 
 BE LARGE ENOUGH FOR Two . . 189 
 
 XIV AN ADDITION TO THE FAMILY 197
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 XV Two LADIES DISCOVER THE EXIST- 
 ENCE OF EACH OTHER 210 
 
 XVI THE COST OF LIVING 219 
 
 XVII HABITS OF THE HEN 236 
 
 XVIII THE APARTMENT is CROWDED . . 243 
 
 XIX BUT SUDDENLY BECOMES LONELY . 258 
 
 XX AND THEN DESOLATE 266 
 
 XXI Is ANYTHING AKIN TO LOVE ? . . . 273 
 XXII A MAN'S IDEAL is SHATTERED ; AND 
 
 A WOMAN'S HEART 279 
 
 XXHI A VAMPIRE TURNS OUT TO BE ONLY 
 
 A WOMAN 285 
 
 XXIV A GENTLEMAN LEARNS A FEW THINGS 
 
 ABOUT HIS WIFE 298 
 
 XXV A BACHELOR APARTMENT BECOMES 
 
 THE HOME OF A FAMILY . 305
 
 ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 PAGE 
 "Uncle Sam, I love you!" Frontispiece 
 
 Mrs. Sutherland shot Philip a glance from 
 practised eyes that brought him down, 
 literally speaking, to a position beside 
 her 66 
 
 " As a photographer, Phil," said Jack, sotto 
 
 voce,"you're a great success'*. ... 134 
 
 " If you ever discover that you don't care for 
 him so much, oh, please, please, send 
 him to me" 297
 
 PART I
 
 MOLLY AND I 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 MARRIAGES ARE NOT ALL MADE IN HEAVEN 
 
 blind man reached for his revolver. 
 It was gone. And yet not thirty 
 seconds before, he had laid it on the table 
 before him. 
 
 As far as he knew he was alone in the 
 room. One usually is when one contem- 
 plates the long lane that has no returning. 
 
 First a feeling of terror assailed him, 
 then anger that he had been interfered 
 with, and finally shame at having a fellow 
 human being see him in the depths to 
 which he had fallen. 
 
 " Well, " he said finally, in an even mono- 
 tone, " what is it all about? Who are you? " 
 
 "My name doesn't really matter, does 
 it?"
 
 16 MOLLY AND I 
 
 A voice answered him, a woman's voice, 
 rather strained with excitement. 
 
 The blind man rose awkwardly. He 
 was thin and very tall, too tall for the 
 room or for the furniture in it. 
 
 "No," he replied, after reflection. 
 "Nothing really matters to me except 
 that you have taken away the only piece 
 of property that I had left in the world. 
 I spent my last cent for it and I haven't 
 the means to buy another. What right 
 have you to strip me of my last posses- 
 sion?" 
 
 "The right of might," the woman's 
 voice answered. She stood, he judged, 
 just inside the door. "You can't help 
 yourself and I'm sure you won't call in 
 the police to make me return what I have 
 taken." 
 
 He bowed his head in token of surrender. 
 
 "You have the drop on me," he ad- 
 mitted. "Won't you come in and close
 
 NOT ALL MADE IN HEAVEN 17 
 
 the door, miss, or is it madam? You 
 needn't answer. As you suggested a while 
 ago, it doesn't matter. Now that you've 
 got me, what are you going to do with me? 
 It is only justice to tell you that I am a 
 very fragile antique and will only do for 
 an ornament. My days of usefulness are 
 past. What are you going to do with me?' 
 "I want to talk first." 
 "All right. I can still do that." 
 "Aren't you just a little ashamed of 
 feeling the way you do? Don't you think 
 you are a wee bit cowardly?" 
 
 "Not cowardly now, but I think I will 
 be if I have to go through twenty-four 
 hours more of this fearful night, knowing 
 that it is never going to lift. I have just 
 come from the office of the most eminent 
 eye specialist in New York. He cannot 
 help me. I am a writer. I made a bare 
 living by using my eyes until I used them 
 up. I went blind this morning. Think
 
 18 MOLLY AND I 
 
 if you can what that would mean to 
 
 you/' 
 
 "Is there no hope?" 
 
 "None for me. The doctor said that 
 there is a Swiss surgeon who does some- 
 thing to eyes like mine and once in a while 
 he saves a pair, but he is out of the ques- 
 tion for me. I haven't even money 
 enough to pay my fare over on a cattle 
 boat. Believe me if you can when I tell 
 you I have argued it all out to myself. If 
 I go on, merely existing, it is only a matter 
 of a very short time till I shall have to 
 make an exit in a mean and degraded 
 fashion. To-day I am in the possession 
 of all my faculties, to-morrow or next week 
 I shall be a cringing, cowering weakling, 
 afraid and lonesome in this darkness that 
 no one can share. Blindness breaks down 
 a man's moral courage. I'm not brave 
 enough to face it." He paused. "Now 
 you've made it even more difficult. You've
 
 NOT ALL MADE IN HEAVEN 19 
 
 made me feel desperately in the wrong 
 before another human being. You found 
 me out. No one else in all the world knew 
 what I was, knew that I was down and out 
 no use to anyone, including myself." 
 
 "That is the point I wish to bring up. 
 You have no right to do what you intended 
 without thinking of others." 
 
 "There isn't anyone anyone whom I 
 could benefit in the slightest degree." 
 
 "That's where you are mistaken. You 
 can help me." 
 
 : 'You will pardon me if I allow an ex- 
 pression of dismay to cross my features, 
 thus." He paused, smiling, with an ex- 
 pression that was anything but dismay. 
 "Don't tell me you are a long-lost relative? 
 Haven't I trouble enough? No? Then 
 I shall assume a puzzled look and ask 
 politely, 'How can I be of service to 
 
 you?'" 
 
 "I thought you were like that."
 
 20 MOLLY AND I 
 
 "What did you say?" he demanded. 
 
 "Nothing at all. I was wondering if I 
 dared ask you what I had in mind." 
 
 "Surely. Speak right out. My first 
 impression was that your nerve was pretty 
 good. What can I do for you?" 
 
 "Marry me." 
 
 Stunned silence fell upon the man. 
 Then he laughed, not bitterly, but whole- 
 somely and heartily. "This is so un- 
 expected," he demurred. "Explain fur- 
 ther. What is the plot? How did I come 
 to fascinate you so much that you sug- 
 gest yourself as a substitute for annihi- 
 lation?" 
 
 "I am quite serious, Mr. Smith." 
 
 "Oh, you know my name do you?" 
 
 : 'Yes. I know your first name is 
 Philip, too. I always liked that name." 
 
 "Always liked it? Have we met be- 
 fore?" Philip Smith groped desperately 
 in a mental chaos to connect the voice he
 
 NOT ALL MADE IN HEAVEN 21 
 
 was listening to with some other charac- 
 teristics of form and feature. 
 
 "Surely, we've met. Once you even 
 danced with me." 
 
 "It must have been a long time ago. 
 I haven't been attending many balls 
 lately." 
 
 "It was you were twenty and I was 
 twelve but I made up my mind then 
 that I'd marry you the very first chance 
 I got." 
 
 "I can't place you," he confessed. 
 
 " No? I remember that at the time you 
 didn't seem as enthusiastic about me as I 
 was about you." 
 
 "I am truly sorry you delayed your - 
 he started to say "proposal" and changed 
 suddenly "your proposition until I have 
 ceased to be available as husband material. 
 If you knew me ten years ago you may 
 recollect that my family fortune vanished 
 in a night and, as I have just explained to
 
 22 MOLLY AND I 
 
 you, my personal earning capacity has 
 just been blotted out with my eyesight." 
 
 " Not if you marry me. I know it sounds 
 terribly cruel to say but the fact that you 
 are blind is the thing that makes you most 
 desirable as a husband." 
 
 "Great Scott," he ejaculated, "are you 
 as bad as all that?" 
 
 "No, I'm not as bad as all that," she 
 mimicked. "Now if you'll promise not 
 to interrupt I'd like to lay this heavy re- 
 volver down and tell my story." 
 
 "Certainly. I'd draw up a chair for 
 you if I were quite certain where the fur- 
 niture in this room is. You see I've been 
 blind such a short time, and Mrs. Jeffrey, 
 that's my landlady, does provide such a 
 knobby assortment of furniture with her 
 hall-bedrooms. I'm sure there's another 
 seat though, somewhere." 
 
 He heard her draw up a chair and as she 
 sat down near him the faintest odor of a
 
 NOT ALL MADE IN HEAVEN 23 
 
 delicate perfume assailed his nostrils. A 
 heavy thud told of the revolver's being 
 dropped on the table. He judged by 
 the sound that she had placed it on his 
 left. He sank down again into his own 
 chair.
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 FOR THAT MATTER, NEITHER ARE WILLS 
 
 OHE did not begin talking at once. He 
 felt that she was studying him and he 
 was acutely conscious of his gaunt, heavily 
 lined face. When last he had seen him- 
 self his features had been those of an old 
 man. How much worse they must look 
 now that the eyes had ceased to animate 
 the mask! 
 
 The girl began: 
 
 "In the first place, I am an orphan and 
 I have always lived with my aunt Lavinia. 
 Now do you remember me? No? It 
 doesn't matter. She was very wealthy 
 and when she died last year she left all 
 her money to me on condition that I marry 
 on or before November 21, 1912, which
 
 NEITHER ARE WILLS 25 
 
 you probably know is to-morrow. What 
 do you think of that?" 
 
 "I should say that you had been reading 
 too much popular fiction. The idea of 
 an heiress who must be married by a cer- 
 tain time in order to get her legacy is old 
 stuff, it has been worked to death. I 
 tried it once myself in a novel, but the 
 publishers said I stole the plot from the 
 'Arabian Nights.'" 
 
 "But you'll do it, won't you?" 
 
 "There was a time not so long ago when 
 I seriously considered the idea of marrying 
 a wealthy woman, but I decided against 
 it. I'd rather be an honest failure under 
 my own banner than live in affluence on 
 somebody else's money. I've seen too 
 many of that type." 
 
 "This is a little different. There is 
 some more to this plot I haven't explained 
 yet. I am not asking you to share my 
 fortune with me. I merely want you to
 
 26 MOLLY AND I 
 
 do me a certain definite service, that is, 
 go through the marriage service with me, 
 for which I will make you a reasonable 
 payment. Within a year I expect to get 
 a divorce." 
 
 "Yes, that is quite conventional. But 
 why pick me out for the honor? Why 
 not choose some man from your immedi- 
 ate circle of friends?" 
 
 "One reason is because I happen to be 
 engaged to one of them and everybody 
 knows it." 
 
 Philip Smith tried to comprehend this 
 statement. "Then why not marry the 
 one you are engaged to?" he blurted out, 
 finally. 
 
 "Because, please sir," she apologized 
 meekly, "he's out exploring at the North 
 Pole. He has been gone two years and 
 won't be back until next fall anyway." 
 
 "Oh!" 
 
 "Doctor Allen, he's the specialist you
 
 NEITHER ARE WILLS 27 
 
 went to about your eyes, is my legal 
 guardian. He and I were making ar- 
 rangements for my wedding when that 
 messenger-boy led you in." 
 
 "Making arrangements?" he echoed. 
 
 "Yes, we wrote an advertisement to 
 send to all the morning papers offering 
 $1000 to the man who would marry me to- 
 morrow and promise never to see me again. 
 We had just finished it when you arrived. 
 It didn't occur to me until after you had 
 gone again that you were a direct answer 
 from Heaven to that advertisement which 
 hadn't been published yet, but as soon as 
 I got the idea I came after you." 
 
 "May I ask how you found me? Doc- 
 tor Allen doesn't know my address." 
 
 "I trailed you. It isn't hard to pick 
 up the track of a small messenger-boy 
 leading a tall, thin, blind man in a check 
 suit of an unbecoming shade." 
 
 He winced. "It's an English fabric,"
 
 28 MOLLY AND I 
 
 he defended, "a relic of days when I had 
 money." 
 
 "Anyway it helped me find you," the 
 woman's voice continued. "I got here 
 just as your messenger-boy was leaving. 
 I told him to wait downstairs and came in. 
 If I had arrived a little later I would have 
 felt like a widow. I was so set on having 
 you for a husband." Her voice broke a 
 little, telling of the intense excitement 
 she had been masking with an affectation 
 of levity. 
 
 The man debated slowly, "I still fail to 
 see why I should be so honored." 
 
 The girl laughed a little hysterically 
 and went on hastily, "Can't you under- 
 stand that I don't want to marry anybody 
 but if I have to I'd much rather be Mrs. 
 Philip Smith than the wife of John Doe, 
 the celebrated forger and blackmailer, 
 which is probably what I'll be to-morrow 
 if you don't help me out."
 
 NEITHER ARE WILLS 29 
 
 "The picture you draw of your plight is 
 truly terrifying," he commented. 
 
 "Then you'll do it?" she asked, anx- 
 iously. 
 
 He laughed out loud at the sheer non- 
 sense of it. " Just this once, if it will really 
 help you any. I don't seem to have much 
 choice in the matter. I'm your prisoner, 
 - and life's." 
 
 "It's a bargain then. We'll shake hands 
 on it." He heard her chair pushed back 
 as she rose. 
 
 He also got slowly to his feet and ex- 
 tended his hand uncertainly before him. 
 
 It was grasped firmly across the table 
 by slender, strong fingers. Hers was the 
 hand of a capable person. The look on 
 his face changed from amused tolerance 
 to one of admiration. Unconsciously he 
 stood straighter and held his head higher. 
 A man is always taller if he has the faith 
 of some woman in his keeping.
 
 30 MOLLY AND I 
 
 "By the way," he said casually, "if 
 you will hand me that weapon you took 
 away from me I'll put it out of sight and 
 dispel the atmosphere of melodrama from 
 this scene, which I see is conventional 
 comedy." 
 
 Without hesitation she placed the re- 
 volver in his outstretched hand. He broke 
 it, ejecting the chamber into his palm. 
 
 "You may have those," he offered, 
 holding out the five cartridges. 
 
 She took them silently. He opened a 
 drawer in the table and dropped the gun 
 into it noisily. 
 
 "There, that's over," he said. 
 
 "You mean that?" 
 
 "Yes. Whatever has to be faced I'll 
 meet. I should be ungrateful to you if I 
 didn't do that much after you took the 
 trouble to follow me half way across New 
 York to save me from myself. What is 
 next on the programme?"
 
 NEITHER ARE WILLS 31 
 
 "We'll get married and then we'll start 
 you off on your honeymoon." 
 
 "My honeymoon?" His voice was 
 blank astonishment. 
 
 "Yes. You're going to spend it all 
 alone with the famous Swiss surgeon. I 
 had Doctor Allen reserve a stateroom for 
 you on the Franco-American boat sailing 
 to-night." 
 
 "What if I refuse?" 
 
 :< You can't. According to law a wife can 
 arrange for medical attention for her hus- 
 band when he is ill, even against his orders." 
 
 "I never heard of that law," Philip 
 argued sceptically. "I don't believe it's 
 on the statute books of this State." 
 
 "If it isn't it ought to be. Please," 
 her voice took on a wheedling tone, "do 
 as I have arranged and don't force me 
 to make up laws in order to get my own 
 way. Can we go now? Are you ready?" 
 
 "I'm as ready as I can be. This is no
 
 32 MOLLY AND I 
 
 wedding garment I am wearing but it must 
 do. The tailor is late with my trousseau 
 and we can't keep the guests waiting." 
 He started across the room gaily, collided 
 with the other chair, paused uncertainly 
 and turned in the wrong direction. 
 
 "May I lead you?" asked the girl. 
 
 "I'm afraid you'll have to," he replied, 
 simply. " I haven't been in the dark quite 
 long enough yet to have my bearings." 
 
 On the front steps they picked up the 
 messenger-boy. The girl suggested that 
 they take him along as a witness and 
 Philip gravely introduced the young man to 
 her, mentioning "Jerry" as his name and 
 speaking of the girl only as "my fiancee." 
 
 The wedding party formed, they hailed 
 a taxi and directed the chauffeur to drive 
 to the office of the city clerk. There they 
 discovered that they could not be married 
 immediately on a New York license and 
 returned to the taxi in some perturbation.
 
 NEITHER ARE WILLS 33 
 
 "If you want to get married," said the 
 taxi driver, who took in their situation 
 from scraps of conversation, "you can 
 get a license and a justice of the peace 
 over in Jersey that can do the trick with- 
 out delay." 
 
 "Do you know right where to go?" the 
 girl questioned anxiously. 
 
 "Sure. I take a wedding party over 
 there about once a week." 
 
 "The same one?" 
 
 "No, not the entire party. I took 
 one man twice, though, with a different 
 girl each time. I guess the first knot didn't 
 hold." 
 
 "Mr. Smith," said she, "have you time 
 to go over to New Jersey with me?" 
 
 * ' C ertainly , " he replied . "I have all the 
 rest of my life to devote to carrying out 
 your wishes. I haven't any other plan for 
 whatever future there may be for me. Be- 
 hold the first slave since the Civil War!"
 
 34 MOLLY AND I 
 
 "And you, Jerry?" 
 
 "I can stay as long as you pay for me." 
 
 "Then, all aboard for the uncharted seas 
 of New Jersey. Chauffeur, you may come 
 about and head her nose into the teeth of 
 the gale. Stop at the first altar you come 
 to." 
 
 The car ran smoothly, the birds sang 
 merrily, the sun shone brightly for all but 
 one of the wedding party, and everything 
 was as smooth as the preliminaries of a 
 carefully arranged ceremony planned for 
 months ahead. A thoughtful silence set- 
 tled upon the girl. Philip engaged Jerry 
 in serious conversation. 
 
 "Jerry," he said," have you got such a 
 thing as a 'Nick Carter' about you?" 
 
 The messenger-boy preserved a suspi- 
 cious silence for a moment, then answered 
 gruffly, "No, I ain't. What did you want 
 it for?" 
 
 "I thought I'd ask you to read to my
 
 NEITHER ARE WILLS 35 
 
 fiancee and myself. I supposed messen- 
 ger-boys always carried a copy of 'Nick 
 Carter' about with them." 
 
 "Aw, I don't read them things no more. 
 Nobody but young kids reads 'Nick Car- 
 ter' these days." 
 
 " Is that so? What do you do with your 
 spare time?" 
 
 "I read the sporting dope in the pink 
 sheet, the baseball stuff and all that." 
 
 " I consider it a howling shame the way 
 we modern people outgrow our simple, 
 childish amusements. Here you've aban- 
 doned the idol of childhood at an age 
 when your grandfather was still reading 
 fairy stories." 
 
 Jerry sniffed audibly. 
 
 "I take it," continued the man, "that 
 you don't care much for fairy stories either. 
 No?" 
 
 "Aw, quit kidding me." 
 
 "Maybe you never heard a first-class,
 
 36 MOLLY AND I 
 
 hand-made, fairy story. For instance, 
 did anyone ever relate to you the authen- 
 tic history of 'The Fairy Queen Who Had 
 a Wooden Leg'?" 
 
 "Aw, go on." 
 
 "Yes, do go on." 
 
 '' You're not supposed to be listening. 
 This is a fairy story for the simple wise 
 men of the city and for the blind. Fatima, 
 put a tango record on the electric piano 
 and hearken to what we are about to 
 narrate."
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 THE STORY OF THE FAIRY QUEEN WHO 
 HAD A WOODEN LEG 
 
 upon a time there was a fairy by 
 the name of Patsy who had hard 
 luck. She was born on a very rainy Friday 
 in November when the wind was howling 
 so loud that she had to yell like a baseball 
 fan to make herself heard at all. 
 
 When finally her mother, who was the 
 queen of all the fairies, looked up and saw 
 that Patsy was born she spoke to her hus- 
 band, who was reading the paper and 
 hadn't noticed anything, either. Like 
 most women she hastened to blame the 
 man. "Look, Cyril," she said, "you've 
 got a daughter." And with that she paid 
 no more attention to Patsy but went on 
 with her breakfast, which consisted of
 
 38 MOLLY AND I 
 
 sweet alyssum flowers on toast and a blue- 
 bell cup full of dew. 
 
 Cyril laid down his paper crossly. 
 "This sort of thing has got to stop. There 
 are too many fairies already. So few chil- 
 dren believe in us nowadays that it's hard 
 enough for what fairies there are to make 
 a living without adding to the band. You 
 must think that I'm running an orphan 
 asylum. Do you know how much honey 
 is an ounce? The last we bought cost 
 nineteen sprays of goldenrod and they 
 say it's going up, too." 
 
 He walked over to Patsy and looked at 
 her searchingly. "She's an ugly little 
 thing," he commented. "It's going to be 
 hard to get the children to believe in any- 
 thing with a red nose and such large ears." 
 He paused and then went on. " By George, 
 she looks a good deal like your family." 
 
 "What's that you say about my family?" 
 The queen stopped eating and confronted
 
 STORY OF THE FAIRY QUEEN 39 
 
 her husband, her eyes blazing with anger. 
 "My family indeed! What right have 
 you to talk about my family? What were 
 you before I married you? I'll tell you. 
 You were a low-down, common, green or 
 garden kind of a fairy, that's what you 
 were. You used to say 'ain't' and 'seen' 
 and 'done' and you ate jonquil buds with 
 a knife." 
 
 Cyril was silent because he knew that 
 what she said was true. 
 
 "And," continued the queen, "just be- 
 cause you said what you did you may have 
 entire charge of the child. I have to at- 
 tend a special meeting of the Federation 
 of Fairy Godmothers." 
 
 With that she flounced out of the room. 
 Cyril was so angry at having his wife get 
 the better of him in an argument that he 
 paid no attention to Patsy whatever, save 
 to push her out of the way with his foot 
 as he grabbed up his coat and crown and
 
 40 MOLLY AND I 
 
 set out to spend the day at the club, where 
 he lost a good deal of fairy money in a 
 game of auction pinochle and drank more 
 heliotrope wine than was good for him. 
 
 With that kind of a start you could 
 hardly expect Patsy to be much of a suc- 
 cess as a fairy, and she wasn't. Her par- 
 ents, both of them, always regarded her 
 as a sort of step-child. As a result of that 
 she had to get along with a very poor 
 assortment of clothes, in fact, cast-offs 
 of every description. For instance, she 
 would often be seen wearing an old torn 
 robe made of rose petals that her mother 
 had thrown away, and a patched pair of 
 her father's cobweb pants, cut down to 
 fit, of course. You'll have to admit that 
 with that sort of a ragamuffin equipment 
 it's pretty hard to be convincing. What 
 would you think if a forlorn-looking, little 
 fairy, dressed like that, with a dirty face 
 and maybe a black eye, should suddenly
 
 STORY OF THE FAIRY QUEEN 41 
 
 appear to you and offer to grant you three 
 wishes? 
 
 Nobody would believe in her. Usually 
 they'd just laugh at her, which hurt her 
 feelings, but sometimes they would put 
 her out and threaten to squash her with 
 a fly-swatter if she came around again. 
 This was terribly discouraging, especially 
 as she wasn't any good in the world ex- 
 cept to grant wishes. Patsy started out 
 the year with the power to grant a hun- 
 dred wishes and along in November, with 
 the year nearly up, she had ninety-nine 
 of 'em left. The only wish she had been 
 able to grant was that of an old lady she 
 was trying to help with her knitting. Ac- 
 cidentally Patsy dropped the yarn and 
 got it all tangled up and the old lady said, 
 "I wish you'd go and jump in the lake." 
 Patsy had to grant her wish. The water 
 was cold, too. 
 
 There was only one thing Patsy really
 
 42 MOLLY AND I 
 
 enjoyed. That was dancing on roofs. 
 As you probably know, whenever it rains, 
 all the fairies who aren't on duty some- 
 where, turn out and dance on the roofs. 
 They like tin roofs best because they 
 tinkle so nicely, but any kind of roof will 
 do except a flat, gravel one. That kind 
 isn't any fun. Patsy had a great deal of 
 time for dancing because no one wanted 
 her for anything else. You'd think that 
 she would have become the best dancer 
 of all the fairies, but she didn't. On the 
 contrary she was always stumbling and 
 slipping. Very often she'd slip on one 
 of those slanting, shingle roofs and fall 
 several stories down to the ground. But 
 she'd laugh, pick herself up, and go back 
 to the roof and dance some more, none 
 the worse except for a bruise or so and 
 maybe another tear in her father's cob- 
 web trousers. 
 
 One night, when there was a terrific
 
 STORY OF THE FAIRY QUEEN 43 
 
 storm, Patsy found the loveliest tin roof 
 she had ever danced on. It was loose in 
 spots and rattled ever so loudly when she 
 stamped her tiny feet. She was all alone 
 on this particular roof and whirled and 
 leaped and raced to her heart's content. 
 Never before had she made so much noise. 
 The storm grew more boisterous, it light- 
 ened and thundered, and Patsy had to 
 stamp louder than ever to match the 
 thunder for racket. 
 
 All at once there was an especially loud 
 bang, the tin beneath her feet gave way 
 and she fell right through the roof. It 
 would not have damaged her at all if she 
 hadn't struck her leg on the foot-board 
 of a bed when she landed. As it was, 
 when she tried to stand up again she 
 couldn't because her leg had been broken 
 off at the knee. It didn't hurt because her 
 legs and arms and body were only made 
 of twilight mist anyway but it was mighty
 
 44 MOLLY AND I 
 
 inconvenient. She picked up the broken- 
 off piece and was trying to fit it back on 
 when she heard a nice voice saying, " Can 
 I help you?" 
 
 Patsy looked up, and there, sitting up 
 in bed, was a boy who was very pale but 
 who smiled with a friendly look that she 
 had never seen on anybody's face before. 
 She forgot all about her broken leg and 
 smiled right back at him. 
 
 "I heard you dancing up there," he 
 said, "and I was afraid that you might 
 fall through. The roof needs mending 
 but we are very poor and can't afford it." 
 
 "You heard me dancing?" exclaimed 
 Patsy, joyfully. "Then you believe in 
 me?" 
 
 "Sure," said the little sick boy, and 
 Patsy was so pleased that she danced up 
 and down on one leg, that being all she 
 had left, and crawled right up into his lap, 
 so to speak.
 
 STORY OF THE FAIRY QUEEN 45 
 
 "Now," said the little boy, "let me help 
 you mend yourself." 
 
 Patsy didn't tell him that all she had 
 to do was to take the broken pieces home 
 and have herself wished together again, 
 because she was so pleased to have some- 
 one believe in her. So she let him make 
 her a wooden leg out of a match, which 
 he tied on with a strand of his own hair 
 almost as fine and soft as a spider's 
 thread. 
 
 All that rainy afternoon she stayed and 
 played with him until his mother, who 
 worked out by the day, came home along 
 toward dusk and lit the gas with Patsy's 
 wooden leg, not noticing that Patsy was 
 attached to it. Women who work out 
 by the day scrubbing floors and washing 
 windows naturally do not believe in 
 fairies and so, of course, can't see them. 
 Patsy wasn't hurt in the least and rather 
 liked the effect of the blackened wood, when
 
 46 MOLLY AND I 
 
 the match was blown out. But fairies can't 
 stay around people who don't believe in 
 them, so Patsy assured the little boy that 
 she'd be back the next day when he was 
 alone and went through the hole in the 
 tin roof. 
 
 She came back the next day and the day 
 after that and so on for a long time until 
 they became fast friends. As he was the 
 only person in all the world who believed 
 in her, she had a lot of time to spend on him. 
 She'd dance for him by the hour on the 
 narrow foot-board of the bed, her wooden 
 leg drumming an irregular tattoo, and 
 sometimes to make him laugh she'd fall 
 and do a somersault backwards on the bed. 
 Other times she'd tell stories about things 
 that had happened to her and he'd laugh 
 over her mishaps, but always in such a way 
 that she knew he was sorry for her at the 
 same time. 
 
 Oh, they did hundreds of things, and
 
 STORY OF THE FAIRY QUEEN 47 
 
 neither of them had ever had such good 
 times before. 
 
 Then one day she found the little boy 
 too weak to sit up in bed and when he 
 tried to smile at her he couldn't because he 
 was too tired. The Fairy With a Wooden 
 Leg was alarmed but she did not want 
 to let him know it so she was twice as 
 cheerful as ever before. All day long 
 she told funny stories and danced and did 
 hand-springs but it wasn't any use. He 
 grew weaker and weaker and finally when 
 the room grew dim at twilight, he shut 
 his eyes. Patsy hovered over him to see 
 if he was asleep. No. He was still awake 
 but he was so tired that he could barely 
 breathe. 
 
 She realized that she must redouble her 
 efforts so she sang as loud as she could and 
 did somersaults for him from the foot of 
 the bed. That had always made him 
 laugh before but now he didn't even
 
 48 MOLLY AND I 
 
 see her. She danced so hard with her 
 wooden leg that she splintered it but 
 the little boy's heart-beats grew slower 
 and slower. 
 
 Patsy began to cry a little. What could 
 she do? Except the queen none of the 
 fairies is allowed to grant life to a dying 
 person. None of them would dare even 
 try it because the queen in wrath would 
 immediately destroy the reckless fairy who 
 dared to usurp her power. 
 
 The only person in the world who be- 
 lieved in her was going away on slow heart- 
 beats and Patsy couldn't overtake him 
 and stop him. What would she do with- 
 out him? Where would be the fun in 
 dancing on the roofs in the rain again all 
 by herself? Swiftly she made up her mind 
 she would try to grant life to the little 
 boy. She might be able to save him be- 
 fore the queen found out and destroyed 
 her, and she didn't mind much being de-
 
 STORY OF THE FAIRY QUEEN 49 
 
 stroyed, although she wondered what it 
 would be like. 
 
 So she began saying the magic words of 
 the royal incantation and wishing with 
 all her heart that the little boy might live. 
 As she said the words the room began to 
 grow lighter and there was a terrifying 
 hum in the air. It was power, but was 
 it being used for the little boy or against 
 her? Patsy didn't know enough about 
 the effect of the royal incantation, to be 
 sure, but she went bravely on, never falter- 
 ing. All at once there was a blinding 
 flash and that was all that she remem- 
 bered. 
 
 The next thing she knew she was lying 
 in a corner of the room, and bending over 
 the little boy's bed were two men using a 
 strange piece of machinery that hummed 
 like a swarm of bees. The little boy was 
 alive. But the strangest of all Patsy 
 noticed that the room was filled with
 
 50 MOLLY AND I 
 
 fairies, hundreds, thousands, hundreds of 
 thousands of them, all drawn up in glit- 
 tering ranks kneeling before her. She got 
 up and walked down the lines in front of 
 them, limping a little on her wooden leg. 
 
 One of the fairies threw a shimmering 
 robe of lacy spider web across her shoul- 
 ders and another set a crown, jewelled with 
 dewdrops, upon her brow. 
 
 "What does this mean?" demanded 
 Patsy. "Are you dressing me up like 
 this to destroy me?" 
 
 "No," replied one of the fairies, "we 
 dress you thus because you are our queen." 
 
 And so she was, and that explained why 
 she was able to grant life to the little boy. 
 
 The former queen, Patsy's mother, had 
 been annihilated that very morning in 
 trying to grant the wishes of some English 
 suffragettes. She thought it was a toy 
 balloon she was sitting on, but it wasn't.
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 A SILVER WEDDING RING 
 
 "'VTOW," said Philip, after a pause, "you 
 naturally ask what became of the 
 little boy, don't you?" 
 
 "Yes," said Jerry, rather ashamed to 
 admit that he had been interested in the 
 story. 
 
 "He got well. The doctors from the 
 County Hospital said the pulmotor saved 
 him but the little boy himself knows bet- 
 ter. He grew strong and when he be- 
 came a man he was one of the best pitchers 
 in the National League." 
 
 "Do you mean Matty?" 
 
 "I didn't say, but you can find out if 
 you watch for the one who goes around 
 picking up burnt matches and putting 
 them in his pockets. He's in hopes that
 
 52 MOLLY AND I 
 
 some day he'll find the one that Patsy is 
 using for a wooden leg, so he can thank 
 her." 
 
 "Tell some other adventures of the fairy 
 who had a wooden leg," suggested the 
 girl. 
 
 "I would," replied Philip, "but some- 
 thing in the feel of the air tells me that 
 we are in New Jersey, and therefore must 
 stop." 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 " Why, to be married. I hate to remind 
 you of such a thing but you suggested it 
 yourself." 
 
 " I know it. I had completely forgotten." 
 
 The car came to a stop. 
 
 "Is this the place, driver?" the girl in- 
 quired. 
 
 "Yes, ma'm. They give you the whole 
 business, including the third degree, right 
 in the same building. The clerk sells you 
 the license and a special permit and a
 
 A SILVER WEDDING RING 53 
 
 justice of the peace right across the hall 
 does the rough work, I mean, marries 
 you." 
 
 "All right." The girl got out of the 
 car and helped the blind man to follow 
 her. "Come along, Jerry, and you too, 
 driver. We'll need witnesses." 
 
 The clerk proved obliging and the mat- 
 ter of the license was quickly got over. 
 Then, marshalled by the chauffeur, who 
 was full of get-hitched-quick information, 
 the party sought the justice of the peace 
 across the hall. 
 
 There they found another wedding party 
 ahead of them and they were politely re- 
 quested to wait until the judge was at 
 liberty. This they did, fidgeting nervously 
 like patients in a dentist's ante-room. 
 
 "O dear!" murmured the girl. "I wish 
 I had a mother or a father or somebody 
 here. I feel so friendless." 
 
 "How can you feel friendless when you
 
 54 MOLLY AND I 
 
 so nearly have a husband ? ' ' Philip smiled 
 reassuringly. 
 
 "Lots of women who have really truly 
 husbands feel that way." She was silent 
 a moment and then asked, "Before you 
 marry me wouldn't you like to know what 
 I look like? Shall I describe myself to 
 you?" 
 
 "No," replied Philip slowly, "I should 
 prefer not to know what you look like." 
 
 "Oh!" 
 
 "Don't be offended. There are two 
 reasons for that. One is because if I have 
 no clue as to your appearance you are 
 doubly sure of my not bothering you any 
 in the future." 
 
 "And what's the other reason?" 
 
 "The other reason is that I have always 
 had a certain ideal for my wife and as it 
 would be ridiculous to assume that you 
 are even of that type it seems better to 
 me to retain my ideal than to have it sup-
 
 A SILVER WEDDING RING 55 
 
 planted by a contrary though charming 
 reality." 
 
 "I am just curious enough to want to 
 know what your ideal is." 
 
 "Don't you know that the hardest task 
 that a novelist has is the description of 
 his heroine?" Philip paused and after a 
 moment's thought continued, "My wife, 
 as I have pictured her, need not look like 
 anything in particular, her hair might 
 be straight and black or very fluffy and 
 light, not too blonde of course, her 
 eyes can be any color at all, so long as 
 they are soft, her nose quite Roman, " 
 
 "Oh!" breathed the girl. 
 
 "Or with the tip turned skyward, and 
 she can be any size so long as I can pick 
 her up and carry her. But there will be 
 something I shall recognize when we meet, 
 a sympathy that will reach out and enfold 
 me, an understanding that will require 
 no explanations, and I shall know her
 
 56 MOLLY AND I 
 
 step when she comes to me for it will fall 
 into perfect time with the beating of my 
 heart." Then with an abrupt change of 
 manner he added, "Of course you realize 
 that I am quoting a paragraph from one 
 of my unpublished novels." 
 
 "By George!" exclaimed the best man 
 and chauffeur. " We forgot to get a ring !" 
 
 "A ring?" Philip echoed blankly. "Do 
 we have to have a ring?" 
 
 "Well," replied the veteran of a thou- 
 sand taxi elopements, "some people are 
 married without them, I guess." 
 
 "I won't be," declared the girl firmly, 
 "and that's all there is to it. My mother 
 had a ring and I'm going to have one. 
 That's about all I'm going to get out of 
 this marriage business anyway, and I 
 want it. I wonder if there is a jewelry 
 store near." 
 
 " My mother gave me her wedding ring," 
 said Philip slowly, "and I have it now.
 
 A SILVER WEDDING RING 57 
 
 We'll use that if you are willing. I think 
 mother would be glad to have it worn by 
 her daughter-in-law." He took a small 
 silver circlet from his pocket. It was the 
 only thing he had not pawned. 
 
 "It's a curious bit of jewelry, isn't it?" 
 he added, as he handed it to her. "It's 
 silver, rather skillfully carved. The work 
 is Chinese, I believe. Some of the tracery 
 is worn very thin but it's quite distinct." 
 
 The bride took it with an exclamation 
 of delight. " Oh, it's beautiful. Will you 
 really truly let me wear it while we are 
 being married?" 
 
 "Yes, and as long as you live after that." 
 
 "Thank you ever so much. I shall al- 
 ways keep it." After a pause during 
 which she evidently examined it very 
 closely she exclaimed, "Why, there's some 
 fine engraving on the inside!" 
 
 "That," said Philip hastily, "is just 
 some sentimental nonsense my father had
 
 58 MOLLY AND I 
 
 put on. In those days people cared a lot 
 more about that sort of thing than ;they 
 do now. Don't bother to try to make it 
 out." 
 
 "But it isn't any bother. I've made it 
 out already." In a lowered voice she read 
 softly, "'Until death do us part.'" 
 
 "That sounds silly, doesn't it, in these 
 days," Philip said, a trifle wistfully. 
 
 "No, it isn't silly. I love it." 
 
 "But we are about to part right now," 
 he objected. 
 
 The judge shooed a newly married 
 couple from his office. 
 
 "All ready," he announced genially to 
 the waiting group. 
 
 "The alarm has sounded," said Philip. 
 "Maritari salutamus. Now if someone 
 will play a wedding march on a comb 
 we will advance upon the altar. Jerry, 
 you will escort the bride and I'll bring up 
 the rear with my best man."
 
 A SILVER WEDDING RING 59 
 
 Getting married was absurdly casual. 
 It didn't seem possible that life-long 
 bonds could be assumed in so short a 
 time. One moment you were a timorous, 
 cowering bachelor, free to come and go at 
 will, and the next, presto, you had said 
 "yes" once or twice and you were a sub- 
 stantial, settled, married man with more 
 obligations and responsibilities than it 
 was possible or pleasant to remember. 
 
 When it was over the judge shook hands 
 with both of them and nudged the blind 
 man jovially. 
 
 "Philip Smith," he reminded him, with 
 a laugh, "you haven't kissed your wife, 
 Mary Smith, yet. She's waiting." 
 
 Philip turned toward her with a quizzi- 
 cal smile. 
 
 "Are you?" he asked. 
 
 "Yes." The answer was soft so that 
 he barely heard it, but she placed her 
 hand in his trustingly.
 
 60 MOLLY AND I 
 
 When he started awkwardly to put his 
 arm around her he heard her laugh with 
 a catch in her voice. 
 
 "I'm not 'way up there," she said, "I'm 
 down here."
 
 PART II
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 INTRODUCING A VAMPIRE 
 
 . the big liner swung away from 
 the tender at Southampton and 
 pushed her nose luxuriously through the 
 long swells that seemed to come all the way 
 from New York, Philip Smith smiled a nice 
 contented smile and prepared to be joyful 
 all the rest of his life. A man whose sight 
 has been restored to him after nearly a year 
 in the dark has reason to be an optimist. 
 The world is a much better thing to look 
 at than we who see it all the time realize. 
 Even the bewhiskered Swiss doctor had 
 been a beautiful picture when Philip looked 
 on him as the bandages were removed for 
 the first time, and the capable, stout nurses 
 had been visions of loveliness in the six 
 weeks that he had spent in their care.
 
 64 MOLLY AND I 
 
 Think, then, how wonderful it was to 
 look forward to seeing once more the 
 Goddess of Liberty, Sandy Hook, Coney 
 Island, the Battery, the ferries and the 
 ragged, jagged skyline of the slender City 
 of Desire. 
 
 Of the passengers Philip knew only one, 
 John Herrick by name, a magazine artist 
 he had met in Paris. Herrick had been 
 a promising youngster in the early nineties 
 but the necessity of earning a living had 
 worn him out and now he was middle- 
 aged, rather fat, and unable to reach for 
 the laurel that Fame held just above his 
 head. Herrick was one to whom petty 
 success had come so easily that it had 
 robbed him of the incentive to make a su- 
 preme effort. He had sat back so long 
 promising himself that to-morrow he would 
 begin that salon painting that now he no 
 longer deceived even himself. 
 
 He was a bit of a pessimist, was Herrick,
 
 INTRODUCING A VAMPIRE 65 
 
 but not very seriously so, and his com- 
 plaints amused Philip, who discounted 
 them ninety per cent. 
 
 It was through Herrick that Philip met 
 Mrs. Sutherland the second day out. She 
 was also of the artist colony, not a worker 
 but a "hanger on." 
 
 "Here," said Herrick, halting Philip as 
 they were going around the promenade 
 for the second time, "let me introduce 
 you to Mrs. Sutherland." He faced his 
 friend toward a steamer chair in the lee 
 of the main cabin. "Mrs. Sutherland, 
 my friend Mr. Smith. Marian, get up 
 and walk with this exercise fiend and let 
 me have your steamer rug and chair. 
 Give me whatever you're reading and I'll 
 go right on with it for you." 
 
 "No, thank you, Jack. If you wish to 
 sit down, there is a chair on either side of 
 me you know, and here is my book; it's 
 the third one by Chambers that I've read
 
 66 MOLLY AND I 
 
 this month and I've got to quit soon or go 
 to a sanitarium to be cured of him. Won't 
 you sit down on the other side of me, Mr. 
 Smith?" Mrs. Sutherland shot Philip a 
 glance from practised eyes that brought 
 him down, literally speaking, to a position 
 beside her. 
 
 He discovered that she was a woman of 
 about his own age, that is, between thirty 
 and thirty-five, although the casual ob- 
 server would doubtless discount that es- 
 timate by about five years. Some women 
 voluntarily begin to grow old at thirty; 
 others, and these are the despair of the 
 debutantes, realize that perfection of fig- 
 ure and feature come only with maturity 
 and conduct themselves accordingly. Mrs. 
 Sutherland was of the latter class and 
 gave the impression of rather revelling 
 in her physical attainments, like an ath- 
 lete who takes pleasure in watching the 
 play of his own muscles. Everything
 
 Mrs. Sutherland shot Philip a glance from practised eyes 
 
 that brought him down, literally speaking, 
 
 to a position beside her
 
 INTRODUCING A VAMPIRE 67 
 
 about her was luxuriant, her dark hair, her 
 eyes, the coloring of lips and cheek, and 
 the long, soft lines of her figure. Added 
 to that was a skill in that difficult art 
 of femininity which makes the most of 
 every advantage which Nature has be- 
 stowed. You felt that here was an art- 
 ist, whose person was at once her studio 
 and her masterpiece. 
 
 "I'm glad to make your acquaintance 
 at last, Mr. Smith," she was saying. "I 
 have used so many of your cough drops." 
 
 Philip looked at her for the trace of a 
 smile. There was none. She was playing 
 straight. 
 
 "I'm afraid I'm the wrong Smith. My 
 career has to do with literature instead 
 of lungs, and as yet the only persons who 
 even know I have a career are myself and 
 those to whom I have told it. I may even 
 have failed to convince the last men- 
 tioned."
 
 68 MOLLY AND I 
 
 "An author," she mused. "I knew an 
 author once, but he was not nearly as 
 nice as you are." 
 
 "But I'm not a successful author. I'm 
 much nicer on that account. I think I've 
 heard Mr. Herrick speak of you in Paris, 
 Mrs. Sutherland. Are you an artist too, 
 and if so, what have you done?" 
 
 "I've done nothing except to be un- 
 happily married twice. But that is 
 nothing because I believe all marriages to 
 be unhappy." 
 
 "Then," Philip questioned, "why did 
 you marry more than once?" 
 
 Jack removed his attention from Mrs. 
 Sutherland's book long enough to reply, 
 "She did it to prove that she was 
 right." 
 
 "Speaking of marriage," continued Mrs. 
 Sutherland, directing an appraising glance 
 at Philip, "did you leave your wife in 
 Europe, Mr. Smith?"
 
 INTRODUCING A VAMPIRE 09 
 
 "My wife!" Philip was genuinely start- 
 led. 
 
 " Yes," Mrs. Sutherland resumed, evenly. 
 "You are married aren't you? It's no 
 disgrace, you know." 
 
 "Why, yes," he confessed. "I do hap- 
 pen to have been married, but no one, not 
 even my most intimate friend, knows it. 
 How did you guess?" 
 
 Mrs. Sutherland considered a moment. 
 "I presume it was because I liked you as 
 soon as I saw you. I never like anyone 
 without finding out that he belongs to 
 someone else." She laughed lightly. 
 
 "I suppose then," Philip went on in the 
 same vein, "that you will lose all interest 
 in me now that you know that I am mar- 
 ried." 
 
 "Not at all. Unless he takes it seri- 
 ously a marriage or two makes a man all 
 the more attractive. The fact that one 
 woman has put her tag on a man immedi-
 
 70 MOLLY AND I 
 
 ately stimulates other women to find out 
 why she did it. For another thing, mar- 
 ried men are wickeder than bachelors." 
 
 "They're not any wickeder really, but 
 they have press agents." 
 
 "Personally," she went on with a smile, 
 "I am willing to be interested in any man 
 for a short space of time and then let him 
 go. I feel that it is a sort of duty." 
 
 "How do you figure that out?" 
 
 "Well, for one thing, there are more 
 women than men in the world." 
 
 "Yes, but remember that it is quality 
 and not quantity that counts." 
 
 "And," Marian ignored the interruption, 
 "as there are so few men it is only fair for 
 one woman to keep a man a short time and 
 then let him go so that someone else can 
 have him." 
 
 "You speak of man as if he were a 
 volume in a circulating library. Are these 
 theories of yours merely a frivolous mask
 
 INTRODUCING A VAMPIRE 71 
 
 or do you really mean them? Don't you 
 ever really care?" 
 
 Her face sobered and she let her glance 
 travel past the rail to the sparkling sea 
 beyond where some gulls were conducting 
 some experiments in fancy aviation. "The 
 pity of it is that I used to care a great deal, 
 but whenever I really cared there wasn't 
 any fun in it because I always got hurt." 
 
 "So now you let the other fellow do all 
 the caring and get all the hurting." 
 
 "I find it is easier." She turned a daz- 
 zling smile on him. "I trust you don't 
 mind meeting me with my mask off this 
 way. Here I am telling you all about my- 
 self and we're not yet acquainted. It has 
 one advantage, it leaves you less to be 
 disappointed in, later." 
 
 "Since you are telling me all about 
 yourself, what manner of woman are you?" 
 
 "If you really want to know," she re- 
 plied, with engaging candor, "I'm the
 
 72 MOLLY AND I 
 
 sort of person other women never like 
 and men call 'a great girl to have a 
 good time with,' so you see I haven't 
 any real friends in the world. I admit 
 that in some ways I am attractive." 
 
 Here was an adversary so sure of her- 
 self that she dared throw all her weapons 
 on the table in the presence of her enemy. 
 
 "I have to admit that, too," he replied, 
 smiling. 
 
 "But it never amounts to anything. 
 There's something beyond just 'attract- 
 ing' that I never seem to attain. So there 
 you have me, a nice, harmless vampire 
 that you can have a lot of fun with, fear- 
 less of consequences." 
 
 "Confound such a book," Jack ex- 
 claimed, handing the volume back to 
 Mrs. Sutherland. 
 
 "What's the matter, Jack?" she en- 
 quired sympathetically. "Don't you care 
 for pure but passionate heroines?"
 
 INTRODUCING A VAMPIRE 73 
 
 "Oh, the text is all right, but the illus- 
 trations ! None of the pictures match up 
 with what the author describes. I don't 
 believe that the artist read a page of the 
 book." 
 
 "Who did the illustrating?" Philip 
 asked. 
 
 "I'll see," declared Mrs. Sutherland, 
 opening the book to the frontispiece. "It's 
 signed John Herrick. You did it your- 
 self, Jack!" 
 
 "What? Let's look. By George, I 
 remember now. I did that stuff five years 
 ago. I was too busy that season to read 
 novels. Chambers should have fixed the 
 story up after he saw the pictures." 
 
 Later, when a bugle call for dinner sent 
 Mrs. Sutherland to her stateroom to dress, 
 Philip asked the artist about her. 
 
 "I don't need to tell you. She'll do it 
 herself. I give her credit for being truth- 
 ful to those she loves."
 
 74 MOLLY AND I 
 
 "But to the rest of us what is she?" 
 "There isn't any 'rest of us,' my boy. 
 Marian loves all of us. Even I have been 
 honored with a short summer's flirtation. 
 That was years ago when I was young and 
 slender. You promise to be a shining 
 mark for her adoration because you're so 
 reticent you will make her mad and then 
 she'll have to bring you to your knees to 
 satisfy her self-respect. As an especially 
 shy bird I shall watch your subjugation 
 with interest." 
 
 "Forewarned is forearmed, so I thank 
 
 you." 
 
 "Forewarned isn't anything of the sort 
 with Marian, so don't thank me." 
 
 "What about Mr. Sutherland?" 
 
 "He is a prehistoric myth, dead, 
 divorced, or wilfully missing, maybe." 
 
 Philip allowed himself to contemplate 
 with pleasure the enforced association 
 for the length of the voyage with an at-
 
 INTRODUCING A VAMPIRE 75 
 
 tractive woman. Of course he discounted 
 Herrick's estimate of Mrs. Sutherland 
 and his prediction of a romance between 
 her and himself, but the idea of spending 
 idle, sunny days and moonlit evenings in 
 the company of a person of such definite, 
 feminine charm interested him.
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 A STRANGE SEA SPELL 
 
 A FTER dinner they met again and he 
 was startled to discover that on their 
 introduction he had not realized the full 
 extent of her beauty. She was standing 
 on the companionway leading to the main 
 saloon, a stunning woman always looks 
 best on the stairs, carrying on a com- 
 bined conversation and love scene with 
 the ship's doctor, always first aid to the 
 flirtatious. She had draped herself in an 
 evening gown of a dark metallic gray and 
 the train of it eddied around her feet and 
 overflowed to the step below giving her 
 an added and regal height. Philip's im- 
 pression was that he had never seen any 
 one so daringly and gorgeously gowned,
 
 A STRANGE SEA SPELL 77 
 
 but when he came to analyze his thoughts 
 he was at a loss to explain why. Surely 
 the color of the fabric was as modest as it 
 is possible to get, it was not cut particu- 
 larly decollete, quite the opposite in fact, 
 and was very simply designed, with none 
 of the eccentricities of modern extreme 
 fashions. Still the impression persisted 
 that her raiment was like a diaphanous 
 veil. Long afterward he decided that 
 such was the woman's magnetic person- 
 ality that she projected herself outside 
 her garments and that she wore this, as 
 well as other gowns, not as clothing but 
 as an outer skin. 
 
 She swiftly swept Philip into her con- 
 versation with the doctor and cleverly 
 gave the impression that Philip had joined 
 her by a prearranged plan. So the doctor 
 shortly afterwards excused himself and 
 with a sigh left mere inclination behind 
 and went on about his unofficial duty of
 
 78 MOLLY AND I 
 
 hunting out the shy, unpopular passen- 
 gerine and engaging her in a Dolly Dia- 
 logue. 
 
 "Shall we walk outside?" Mrs. Suther- 
 land asked, as they mounted the steps to- 
 gether, instinctively drawing away from 
 the crowd. 
 
 "If it isn't too cool for you," he agreed. 
 
 "I can get my wrap if I need it. My 
 stateroom is an outside one on the hurri- 
 cane deck." 
 
 They walked in the silence of moonlight, 
 each content in the presence of a congenial 
 personality, neither anxious to begin any 
 discussions that might break the harmony. 
 Quite naturally she tucked her hand under 
 his arm and contentedly hummed a snatch 
 of a happy little air they had both heard 
 in Paris. 
 
 Being with her away from the throng 
 and the lights, Philip found his impression 
 of her undergoing another change. In
 
 A STRANGE SEA SPELL 79 
 
 the afternoon she had seemed a cynical, 
 slightly wearied woman of the world, in 
 the saloon she was a siren, an enchantress, 
 and here, matching her stride with his 
 moderated one, she seemed only a man's 
 good comrade. He knew that she would 
 say the right thing, laugh in the proper 
 places and understand his mood no matter 
 how swiftly he changed it. 
 
 "I'm glad you have decided that you 
 like me." She stopped humming in the 
 midst of the melody. 
 
 "What makes you think I've decided?" 
 "Because I feel so comfortable with 
 you. I'm sure I couldn't feel that way 
 unless you liked me, To be with some 
 men, even the most interesting ones, is a 
 strain and I can't stand it for long, while 
 to be with others is actually restful. I 
 have an idea that we could be pretty fair 
 pals even when we weren't tuned up to 
 concert pitch."
 
 80 MOLLY AND I 
 
 "To state it differently, in a world of 
 artichokes and green peppers I am a 
 nice, sensible, boiled onion." 
 
 "No, I mean that in a world full of a 
 number of things such as you mention 
 you would be anything you wanted to be, 
 even if it were quite different from the 
 neighboring vegetables." 
 
 "I don't know that I quite understand 
 
 you." 
 
 "For that matter, no man ever under- 
 stands a woman." 
 
 "How can you say that when there are 
 so many confirmed bachelors?" 
 
 "My friend, there would be just as 
 many woman who would be bachelors if 
 nature hadn't planned otherwise. We 
 women have to marry for several reasons, 
 and the chief one is not 'for support.' 
 Almost all of us can earn a living of 
 some sort if we have to, but if a woman 
 doesn't marry she becomes an object
 
 A STRANGE SEA SPELL 81 
 
 of pity and solicitude to the rest of 
 her sex. You never heard married men 
 making fun of a bachelor of thirty-five, 
 did you?'* 
 
 "In my limited experience, no." 
 
 "There you have the key to the mat- 
 rimonial game as played by woman." 
 
 "You don't mean to say that you 
 married without being in love?" 
 
 The woman looked away to where the 
 blue depths of the night were only broken 
 by the moon-tipped crests of the waves. 
 
 "No," she answered slowly, "I've been 
 in love and I've been married, but never 
 simultaneously. I've had too many love 
 affairs, but the men I've cared about must 
 have seen through me, because I always 
 married the man who cared about me 
 instead." 
 
 "Philanthropically?" 
 
 "No, hungrily. Women are never 
 philanthropic where their hearts are con-
 
 82 MOLLY AND I 
 
 cerned. I married, hoping to find some- 
 thing that did not exist. Then when the 
 experiment proved a failure I gave it up 
 and passed on to the next one." 
 
 "Do you think, then, that a woman ought 
 to marry without loving the man in the 
 case? Do you think she is justified in de- 
 ceiving him?" 
 
 "Justified? She is compelled to or she 
 could never win one. In the woman's 
 code there are no rules only penalties 
 for losing. But if you are married you 
 know all this from experience. Did your 
 marriage bring you happiness?" 
 
 "Not yet." 
 
 "Are you going to tell me about it or 
 am I going to do all the talking clear across 
 the Atlantic?" 
 
 "I'll try to do my half. Here, then, is 
 the story of my life." Philip paused, mar- 
 shalled his thoughts and began glibly, "I 
 gave up my freedom several years ago in
 
 A STRANGE SEA SPELL 83 
 
 Europe. My prospective widow was a 
 Viennese. She was tall, well built, with 
 dark hair and eyes and, " he hesitated for 
 further description, " and she played 
 the saxaphone beautifully. I am always 
 overcome with emotion this way when I 
 think of how she played 'Way Down 
 Upon the Swanee River' with variations." 
 
 "I am afraid," murmured Marian, in 
 the pause, "that your literary training is 
 causing you to embellish your autobiog- 
 raphy." 
 
 "Which you have to admit," returned 
 Philip, "is much more ladylike than say- 
 ing I am a liar right out loud. You don 't 
 have to hear any more of this story if you 
 don't want to." 
 
 "No," she urged politely, "go on; that 
 is, if you can think of any more." 
 
 " Where was I? " he resumed. " Oh yes, 
 we were married, my wife and I and the 
 saxaphone, and we lived happily together
 
 84 MOLLY AND I 
 
 for over a year. Then I noticed a change. 
 She no longer cared to read my unfinished 
 manuscripts. I looked for the cause and 
 discovered that a slide-trombone player 
 had moved into our neighborhood. When 
 I heard them play together I knew what 
 had happened. Did you ever hear a 
 slide-trombone and a saxaphone per- 
 form simultaneously? No? Well, I had 
 reckoned without my wife's musical tem- 
 perament. It was too late to interfere. 
 They had been practising together for 
 over a week before I noticed it, and they 
 could play *O Promise Me' with hardly 
 any mistakes. There was a scandal, of 
 course, but I hushed things up as much 
 as possible considering that there was a 
 slide-trombone in the affair. After she 
 went away with him the neighbors sent 
 him a loving cup." 
 
 "Thank you so much for giving me your 
 confidence this way," said Marian, when
 
 A STRANGE SEA SPELL 85 
 
 he had concluded. "No wonder you 
 write novels when your life has been such 
 a romance." 
 
 They drifted on to talk of many things 
 and she succeeded in drawing Philip out 
 actually to tell her of his work, what he 
 hoped for and what the chances were for 
 realization. All the while he felt that her 
 interest and sympathy were genuine and 
 he gave himself over to it hungrily as one 
 who has long been away from civilization 
 steeps himself in the artificialities of life 
 when he returns. 
 
 When he had said "Good night" and 
 left her at the door of her stateroom her 
 spell still persisted and he warmed over 
 the commonplaces of their intimacy and 
 revelled in them. For years he had not 
 allowed himself to be interested in a 
 charming woman and this shipboard flir- 
 tation saw the rebirth of old social in- 
 stincts. In the light of the stars he asked
 
 86 MOLLY AND I 
 
 himself if it might not become more than 
 a flirtation. 
 
 Why not? 
 
 Here he was, without family or real 
 friends in the world. Why shouldn't he 
 take the warm affection which he knew 
 this woman would give him? There 
 seemed no question in his mind but that 
 they were very congenial. Seldom had he 
 met anyone of such ready understanding 
 and quick sympathy. He was not in 
 love with he~r no, not yet, anyway, 
 but perhaps he was too old for senti- 
 ment. He smiled at this last idea. A 
 novelist's heroes are almost always his 
 own age at the time he is writing. Ask 
 any author. 
 
 In all the world he had only one tie, his 
 wife, but surely he could consider that 
 negligible. An arrangement entered into 
 merely to accommodate a stranger seek- 
 ing to evade the law was not a moral obli-
 
 A STRANGE SEA SPELL 87 
 
 gat ion. He had never seen the lady and 
 as a souvenir of their meeting he had a 
 single letter. It must have been mailed 
 immediately after his departure for Europe 
 because he had received it before the oper- 
 ation on his eyes. 
 
 The nurse had brought it to him in the 
 darkened room to which he had been sen- 
 tenced for preparation and asked him in 
 broken English if she should read it to 
 him. 
 
 He had taken it in his hand and had 
 recognized instantly the faint perfume of 
 the sender. For a moment he thought of 
 keeping it until he should be able to read 
 it privately if he ever could read anything 
 again, then he realized that sentiment was 
 extraneous to affairs between his wife 
 and himself and directed the nurse to do 
 her worst. 
 
 She did. Translated back again into 
 English it had read:
 
 88 MOLLY AND I 
 
 Dear Friend Husband: 
 
 I have arranged by cable to have your 
 operation as soon as it is wise. Will it help 
 any if you know that I and the Fairy Queen 
 with the Wooden Leg are both wishing every 
 minute that it will not hurt much and that 
 you will be able to see us next time we meet 
 even if you don't recognize us? 
 
 Patsy, the Fairy Queen, says to tell you 
 that she is the mother of twins and that she 
 has named the prettiest one Philip after you 
 regardless of my protests regarding its gender. 
 Philip is sitting on the paper as I write, trying to 
 cut some of her fairy teeth on the end of my pen- 
 holder and tracking ink all over because she 
 stepped on a big word before it was quite dry. 
 
 Whatever lies in store for you don't forget 
 the promise you made on your wedding day 
 
 to your wife, 
 
 Mary Smith. 
 
 P.S. 
 
 I don't mean the promise you made before 
 the judge who married us, but the one you made 
 to me all alone when I first found you that day. 
 
 M.S.
 
 A STRANGE SEA SPELL 89 
 
 It had been thoughtful of her to write 
 to him when he had been all alone with no 
 one else to give him a word of encourage- 
 ment, but of course it was merely an act 
 of charity on her part. She was probably 
 even now entering suit for divorce, so he 
 could consider the incident closed. True, 
 his mind would wander back to dwell 
 curiously on the tones of her voice, her 
 laugh and the confiding trustfulness of 
 the slender hand he had held for five min- 
 utes while the magistrate mumbled the 
 only magic incantation left in our lan- 
 guage. But it all seemed unreal, a dream 
 in his night of blindness when all the things 
 he knew and was familiar with had dis- 
 appeared and he had lived in a black 
 world filled only with stumbling-blocks 
 and faraway voices. 
 
 While he walked, the ship went to sleep; 
 one by one the lights winked out, there 
 was no sound save an occasional swish of
 
 90 MOLLY AND I 
 
 water alongside, the throb of the screw 
 grew more insistent, and overhead the 
 great smokestacks trailed inky fingers 
 across the spangled sky. 
 
 Other promenaders had disappeared; 
 the only comrade of his unrest in evidence 
 was the navigating officer on the bridge. 
 Still he stayed on, unwilling to pen him- 
 self up in a stateroom. It was a night to 
 dream, to revel in unthinking beauty. 
 The joy and desire of life throbbed strong 
 in his breast and the moon bade his fancy 
 run riot in her carnival world. Before 
 long he would be back in New York, with 
 his life to begin over, to build as he would, 
 and this thought stimulated him so that 
 it was a matter of hours before he felt the 
 least desire to seek his stateroom.
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 AN APARTMENT SCARCELY LARGE ENOUGH 
 FOR ONE 
 
 A/17HEN he arrived in New York Philip 
 had allowed Herrick to arrange 
 lodgings for him in the same building with 
 his own and Mrs. Sutherland's. He had 
 no old associations that he cared to renew 
 and he was quite willing to have the artist 
 and Marian for friendly neighbors. It 
 was cheerful to have someone handy to 
 eat dinners with at the nearby cafes or to 
 call on when paper and ink failed to con- 
 nect in the form of literature. 
 
 The furnished apartment that Herrick 
 had selected for his friend was a tiny 
 affair designed for just the sort of bachelor 
 that he was. It was divided into four
 
 92 MOLLY AND I 
 
 separate cells, three of which were bed- 
 room, bathroom and kitchenette. The 
 other, more spacious, combined in itself 
 reception-hall, living-room, dining-room 
 and study. 
 
 Fortunately, the windows of the main 
 room looked out over the city and afforded 
 a view of the open sky. These windows, 
 three in number, bulged outward in bow 
 effect, and had clear glass in the lower half 
 and small leaded panes in the upper. The 
 thoughtful builder had placed the steam 
 radiator before the principal window so 
 that in winter it was uncomfortable to 
 sit near the light. 
 
 The kitchenette was rather dark, but 
 as Herrick explained you did not need 
 any light after the first few days because 
 you could reach anything in it from the 
 center of the room without moving your 
 feet. Philip shunned its mysteries at first 
 and either took all his meals at the restau-
 
 AN APARTMENT FOR ONE 93 
 
 rant in the building or had them sent up 
 to the apartment. 
 
 With an adaptability he was surprised 
 at finding that he possessed, Philip 
 settled down immediately in his new sur- 
 roundings and began to work. He man- 
 aged to find room for a second-hand desk 
 which he purchased from a nearby shop 
 and, mounting a rented typewriter upon 
 it, he was armed to assail literature in 
 her fortress. 
 
 Many hours a day he worked. By that 
 it is not meant that he worked at a feverish 
 pace for long at a stretch. Such happy 
 facility was denied him as well as most 
 authors since Sir Walter Scott. Fully 
 two thirds of his time was spent in staring 
 blankly at his typewriter or in walking 
 about the room, avoiding instinctively 
 the furniture hazards of his course. His 
 brain, however, was constantly active, 
 either in actual construction or in beating
 
 94 MOLLY AND I 
 
 unsuccessfully against a wall of refractory 
 ideas. 
 
 Some of his hours of recreation were 
 spent with Marian who had the happy 
 faculty of stimulating him when things 
 were moving along smoothly and of sooth- 
 ing him when he was "stuck." His com- 
 panionship with her had retained just 
 enough of an element of mystery to keep 
 his interest vividly alive. He felt sure 
 that he was not in love with her, because 
 thoughts of her did not interfere with his 
 work, nor was he jealous of her associa- 
 tion with other men, but he accepted grate- 
 fully the comfort of semi-intimate associ- 
 ation with an attractive woman. 
 
 Philip had returned to New York with 
 mind fully made up to take advantage of 
 his restored eyesight and to do regular 
 work at his chosen calling as a writer. 
 Despite his acknowledged pleasure in 
 Mrs. Sutherland's society, he resolutely
 
 AN APARTMENT FOR ONE 95 
 
 put out of his mind every suggestion of a 
 possible romance and deliberately treated 
 her with a hale good fellowship copied 
 after Herrick's manner with her, which 
 successfully banished sentiment to the 
 background of their relationship. 
 
 The afternoon of the fourth day of his 
 residence in the new quarters found 
 Philip's typewriter going so fast that it 
 seemed as if it were running away with 
 the author who sat behind it. It was one 
 of those "good" days that come to every- 
 one once in a while when the atmosphere 
 is charged with ideas and the right word 
 or phrase is always on the tip of the tongue 
 ready to be used. A writer is more prone 
 to have good or bad working days than 
 most people. An individual worker, he is 
 no part of a crew that will drag him along 
 when his initiative is below par or hold 
 him back when he is tapping reserve bat- 
 teries of energy.
 
 96 MOLLY AND I 
 
 That very morning had brought him 
 two things which tended to make his out- 
 look on life interesting and cheerful. One 
 was the establishment of friendly and 
 financial relations with the editor of one of 
 the popular-priced fiction magazines who 
 had bought an old manuscript of his and 
 asked for more in the same vein. The 
 price he received was what he had always 
 imagined fiction writers received, divided 
 by eight. At that rate he figured that he 
 could barely make a living if he wrote 
 every minute of the time he was awake. 
 Still it was a start in the right direction 
 and he promised himself that he would get 
 even with the publishing world by the 
 prices he would demand when his name 
 was a household word. Every author in- 
 dulges in that sort of dreaming, the ad- 
 vantage that his job has over that of a 
 bricklayer, which usually pays better. 
 
 The other event of importance of the
 
 AN APARTMENT FOR ONE 97 
 
 morning had been the arrival of the mail. 
 Philip had not been established long 
 enough in the new quarters for any of his 
 old friends to know his address, so his 
 curiosity had been aroused by the presence 
 of a letter among the circulars which al- 
 ways greet a new tenant in an apartment 
 building. The envelope bore the return 
 card of Doctor Allen whom he had notified 
 of his homecoming, but it was written in 
 long hand and the doctor's correspondence 
 was always typewritten. The handwrit- 
 ing was reminiscent but he failed to place 
 it until he glanced at the letter itself which 
 began : 
 
 My Dear Mr. Smith: 
 
 Dr. Allen tells me that you have come home 
 permanently cured. Will you believe that I 
 am very glad? I know that with returning 
 health you will find success in your chosen 
 field. 
 
 As an invalid I suppose it did not much
 
 98 MOLLY AND I 
 
 matter whether you were married or not but 
 now that you are on the road to recovery it 
 is not fair to hamper your career with a 
 "wished on" wife. Therefore I shall make 
 the arrangements for our divorce. It will 
 take some little time as I shall have to sue on 
 the grounds of desertion and I cannot do that 
 in this state, but you may have absolute lib- 
 erty as soon as possible. 
 
 I am glad that we have been of so much 
 benefit to each other and as I shall have no 
 further occasion to communicate with you, 
 permit me to thank you again for being such 
 a nice husband. 
 
 Yours sincerely, 
 Mary Smith. 
 
 He was to be free, his life was re- 
 turned to him with a future all his own, 
 every path to choose from, no avenue 
 closed to him either socially or in the line 
 of his profession. 
 
 No wonder, then, that the typewriter 
 raced away, putting in form the hap-
 
 AN APARTMENT FOR ONE 99 
 
 piness that sang in his brain. Under 
 such conditions why shouldn't he write 
 until all the blank paper in the world was 
 covered with words saleable at a price 
 varying from half a cent to ten cents 
 apiece? 
 
 * ' Ding-a-ling-a-ling ! ' ' interrupted the 
 telephone. 
 
 "Damn!" said the author, breaking off 
 in the midst of an elaborate twenty-cent 
 sentence. 
 
 "Can Marian and I come in for a 
 minute?" asked Jack over the 'phone. 
 
 At first he was tempted to send them 
 away without seeing them; then he remem- 
 bered how kind these two had been when 
 he had no other friends, and invited them 
 up. Usually Marian had never come ex- 
 cept when he was in the mood to be in- 
 terrupted. 
 
 "Don't look cross," she admonished, 
 smiling her most engaging smile. "We're
 
 100 MOLLY AND I 
 
 only going to stop a minute. I can tell 
 by the feel of the air in this room that the 
 work is going splendidly, but I thought 
 you wouldn't mind knocking off a minute 
 for the pleasure of bidding me good-bye." 
 
 "I can't see that bidding you good-bye 
 is any pleasure at all," replied Philip. 
 
 "For which she said 'Thank you.'" 
 Marian dropped him a mock curtesy. 
 
 "Incidentally," Jack broke in, "I've 
 brought you several pictures to make the 
 place look a little more real. I regret that 
 most of them are things that I have done 
 myself. Do you mind if I put them 
 up?" 
 
 "I should say not. I was wondering 
 what I could do to liven up this wall- 
 paper. Thanks." 
 
 Jack discovered a hammer and some 
 nails in the kitchenette and made a 
 tour of the room, sticking up line draw- 
 ings and water colors here and there
 
 AN APARTMENT FOR ONE 101 
 
 with nonchalant disregard for that clause 
 in Philip's lease which specified that "no 
 nails or tacks shall be driven into the 
 walls." 
 
 "Now," demanded Philip, when Jack 
 was started on his self-imposed task, 
 "explain about this * good-bye' business. 
 Where are you going and why don't you 
 take us along?" 
 
 "I'm going to visit relatives in Boston 
 and I believe that also answers your sec- 
 ond question as to why I don't take you 
 along. It's bad enough to visit one's 
 own relatives without involving yourself 
 in anyone else's. I'm a black sheep in 
 our family but I have to go back once a 
 year to show the rest of them that 'the 
 life I am leading' as they call it, has not 
 yet ruined my face and my figure. Some 
 year my mirror is going to forbid my re- 
 turn; then they'll have to look me up to 
 learn the truth."
 
 102 MOLLY AND I 
 
 "The trip accounts for the new uniform, 
 doesn't it?" 
 
 "Yes. Thanks for noticing. Do you 
 like it?" 
 
 She turned slowly for his inspection. 
 Her dress was a dull green velvet, edged 
 with black fur. Simple in design as all her 
 costumes were, it fitted with the smooth- 
 ness of a fine leather book-binding. A 
 narrow line of the fur around the low, 
 square-cut collar of the dress emphasized 
 the ivory of her neck, and with her dark 
 hair framed the dusky, healthy beauty of 
 her face. Her cheeks dull red from the 
 brisk walk she had just taken in the early 
 fall air, she might have passed for the per- 
 sonification of autumn. 
 
 "It's a corker," admitted Philip, with 
 frank admiration. "You look as if you 
 might be a pleasant dream being had by 
 the Czar of Russia." 
 
 "A trifle involved, but still understood."
 
 AN APARTMENT FOR ONE 103 
 
 "Hand me that hammer, will you," 
 said Jack from a chair, "before I swallow 
 this nail." 
 
 "Certainly," Philip did as requested, 
 "although as far as that goes we have 
 plenty more nails." 
 
 "Tell me, if you don't mind," suggested 
 Marian, "what you are so happy about." 
 
 "Do I seem oppressively cheerful?" 
 
 "Yes, and I want to be in on it. Good- 
 ness knows I need something to brighten 
 up life among the relatives." 
 
 "I've been getting along well with my 
 writing." 
 
 "Is that all?" she searched his face. 
 "No, it isn't." 
 
 He admitted that she was right. 
 
 "My wife is getting a divorce." He 
 smiled at the idea of being cheerful at 
 such a comic-weekly situation. 
 
 Marian looked at him with an added 
 sparkle in her eye.
 
 104 MOLLY AND I 
 
 "I am about to be returned to the cir- 
 culating library," added Philip, recalling 
 a figure he had used when they first met. 
 "Apparently I am not very interesting 
 reading. I'm wondering if anyone else 
 will care to take me out." 
 
 "I'm glad you are free," Marian said 
 simply. A sudden constraint had come 
 over her and she dropped her glance like 
 a schoolgirl. 
 
 Philip took a step toward her and raised 
 her hand in his own. The touch of her 
 fingers sent a compelling thrill through 
 him. 
 
 "So am I," he said in a low tone, "be- 
 cause now I can " 
 
 "All finished for the time being," an- 
 nounced Jack, dropping the hammer to 
 attract attention. "Pardon me for break- 
 ing up this John Drew scene, but we'll 
 have to leave if you're going to catch the 
 Boston express."
 
 AN APARTMENT FOR ONE 105 
 
 "When will you be back?" asked Philip, 
 an eager light in his eyes. 
 
 "Soon," Marian replied. 
 
 "I'll take dinner with you when I've 
 put Marian on the train," Jack suggested, 
 looking at his watch. 
 
 "Yes, call here for me. We'll be 
 lonesome together." 
 
 "Thanks for the compliment." Marian 
 stood at the door, a picture of vivid life 
 and color. "Please miss me a lot," she 
 smiled wistfully, then added, "both of 
 
 you."
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 IS NOT LAKGE ENOUGH FOB TWO 
 
 they were gone he returned to 
 his typewriter and wrote a single 
 sentence, then laughed. What was the 
 use of trying to arouse enthusiasm about 
 a paper and ink heroine when a creature 
 like that had stood within two feet of him, 
 begging him with eyes and lips and soul 
 to take her in his arms? After all, liter- 
 ature was pretty thin stuff when you 
 turned the limelight on it and compared 
 it to flesh and blood. 
 
 He closed the machine. There was no 
 use trying to do more that day. You 
 can't write "he said" and "she mur- 
 mured softly" when you are thinking of 
 a kiss you almost had.
 
 NOT ENOUGH FOR TWO 107 
 
 There was one thing he could do. He 
 had not told her yet that he loved her and 
 he would write it. Setting the typewriter 
 one side he got out a pen and prepared to 
 compose the first love-letter he had written 
 since he was a youth. Somehow it didn't 
 come as easily as it had when he was 
 seventeen and had felt undying passion 
 for a college girl of twenty. 
 
 At the end of an hour he had destroyed 
 half a dozen sheets of paper and sat with 
 the note half completed, staring out across 
 the house-tops to the river, over which a 
 fog was creeping as the evening began to 
 come on. 
 
 There was a rap at the door, Jack 
 returning for dinner probably. Philip 
 shouted "Come in," and returned to his 
 search for ideas among the house-tops of 
 New York. 
 
 After a moment he asked, "Where'll we 
 eat?"
 
 108 MOLLY AND I 
 
 There was no answer. Philip turned 
 toward the door. 
 
 It stood open, and in its frame, softly 
 illumined by the fading light of day, was 
 a picture from a European guide-book. 
 It was a girl, and after a hasty glance at 
 her garments Philip decided that no one 
 could be loose in New York dressed that 
 way except an emigrant just released from 
 Ellis Island. The bodice of laced blue 
 velvet over a very full, short skirt, a vari- 
 colored shawl and a cloth head-dress in- 
 stead of a hat over her flaxen hair reminded 
 him of the peasant chorus of a grand opera. 
 The feet were even more unmistakable. 
 At the ends of white-stockinged legs they 
 were encased in a pair of very heavy, 
 wooden-soled shoes. 
 
 She was really very tiny after you dis- 
 counted the voluminous clothing and her 
 face had the wide-eyed trustfulness of a 
 child's. Yet from the length of her skirts
 
 NOT ENOUGH FOR TWO 109 
 
 and the way her hair was done up on her 
 head it was evident that she, or someone, 
 thought she was a grown woman. The 
 general impression she gave was that of 
 somebody's little girl who has dressed up 
 in mother's clothes. 
 
 Swallowing his astonishment, Philip mo- 
 tioned her in and asked politely, "What 
 can I do for you?" 
 
 She came forward a few steps, making a 
 racket thereby like dropping an armful 
 of stove-wood into a box and said, "Das 
 versteh' ich nicht. Ich habe kein Englisch.'' 
 
 "You don't understand?" he repeated 
 in English. "You've got nothing on me. 
 All the German I know is locked away with 
 my college diploma. What are we going 
 to do about it?" 
 
 The German girl apparently took this 
 as an invitation to stay because she ad- 
 vanced several feet further into the room. 
 
 "Ich suche eine Stelle."
 
 110 MOLLY AND I 
 
 "Her name is Stella," murmured the 
 author, "but I can't make out the rest of 
 it." 
 
 The hall-boy from below entered the 
 open door with breathless haste. Strangely 
 enough in an ocean of colored hall-boys 
 he was a white island, a freckled one at 
 that, with the build of a jockey and the 
 alertness of a bantam. 
 
 "Aw, there you are," he exclaimed to 
 the girl, then turning to Philip he ex- 
 plained apologetically, " I stepped out 
 for a minute and she got in the main 
 entrance without me seeing her and 
 run upstairs. I been looking for her on 
 every floor. Servants ain't allowed to 
 come in that way. You'll have to tell 
 her." 
 
 "She's not my servant," denied Philip, 
 "and I can't tell her anything because she 
 doesn't understand English." 
 
 "Oh! She looks Dutch, don't she?"
 
 NOT ENOUGH FOR TWO 111 
 
 The girl turned an uncomprehending 
 gaze from one to the other of them as 
 they spoke, and smiled encouragingly on 
 both as if everything they said was a per- 
 sonal compliment. 
 
 "Do you speak any German?" inquired 
 Philip of the boy. 
 
 "Sure, my folks is Dutch and we 
 speak it a lot at home." 
 
 "Then ask her what it is she wants." 
 
 "All right. I'll try her out." The boy 
 turned to the doll-like creature and spoke 
 rapidly. "Sagen Sie mir was Sie wiin- 
 schen." 
 
 The girl's face lighted up with the first 
 look of intelligence she had displayed since 
 her arrival. She laughed like a pleased 
 baby. 
 
 "Ich suche eine Stelle." 
 
 The boy translated to Philip, "She 
 wants a job as maid." 
 
 "Well, I certainly hope she gets it."
 
 MOLLY AND I 
 
 " She means she wants to work for you, 
 boss." 
 
 The girl made an apparently unsuccess- 
 ful attempt to read in their faces what 
 they were talking about. 
 
 "I haven't any more use for a maid 
 than I have for a wooden-legged kanga- 
 roo. You tell her I can't pay for any 
 help." 
 
 The boy put that in German. 
 
 This let loose a perfect torrent of lan- 
 guage from the seeker after employment 
 which ended up in a flood of tears. 
 
 "Why did you threaten to strike her?" 
 demanded Philip. 
 
 "I didn't, boss, so help me. Honest, I 
 just told her what you said and she said 
 she didn't care about the pay. She's up 
 against it, says she just arrived from Ger- 
 many all alone. Her folks are all dead and 
 she doesn't know what to do or where to 
 go."
 
 NOT ENOUGH FOR TWO 113 
 
 "Poor kid. No wonder it makes her 
 weep. She's rather pretty too, isn't she?" 
 Philip cast an appraising glance at the 
 tear-stained face. She was little more 
 than a baby, he thought. "But look at 
 those feet. There is no danger of her ever 
 losing her balance, is there?" 
 
 The intruder wiped away a tear with a 
 corner of her apron and smiled once more 
 a timid, ingratiating smile. 
 
 "Mir gefallt er," she declared to the 
 boy. "Er ist ein so schmucker Herr," 
 then cast down her eyes shyly. 
 
 "What was that?" Philip demanded.' 
 
 "She says that she likes you because 
 you are so handsome." 
 
 "She is a very discerning young person, 
 isn't she? However I can't give her a job 
 even if I am beautiful." 
 
 "Hier ist es schon." The girl laid aside 
 her shawl. "Kann ich gleich anfangen?" 
 
 "She thinks this is a nice place,"
 
 114 MOLLY AND I 
 
 translated the hall-boy, "and she wants 
 to go to work right now." 
 
 "No, no," protested Philip in alarm. 
 "It won't do. She mustn't stay here. 
 She'll have to hunt up some place to stay 
 to-night; then to-morrow she'll get a job 
 all right." 
 
 "Was meinte er?" The puzzled for- 
 eigner appealed to her interpreter. 
 
 "She wants to know what you're say- 
 ing. I guess I'd better tell her that you 
 can't give her a job." He turned to 
 the girl. "Er kann Ihnen keine Arbeit 
 geben." 
 
 She burst into tears again. 
 
 "Ich weiss nicht, wo ich hin soil," she 
 sobbed. 
 
 "What's that?" Philip inquired anx- 
 iously. 
 
 "She has no place to go." 
 
 "Ask her if she has any money?" 
 
 "HabenSieGeld?"
 
 NOT ENOUGH FOR TWO 115 
 
 The girl stopped crying long enough to 
 murmur, "Nur wenig," and opened her 
 tightly-clenched fist to show a few pieces 
 of copper money which she apparently 
 had carried all the way across the Atlantic 
 in that manner. 
 
 "That isn't very much to begin a career 
 on, is it?" Philip was thinking how 
 hostile New York could be to the penni- 
 less stranger within her gates. "We can't 
 turn her out into the street without money 
 enough for a bed and breakfast. Here " 
 He took from his pocket a small roll from 
 which he extracted a five-dollar bill and 
 handed it to her. 
 
 She put it back in his hand with an 
 engaging smile. 
 
 "Erst nach ein paar Wochen will ich 
 den Lohn." 
 
 Philip looked inquiringly at the in- 
 terpreter, who by this time had be- 
 come so interested in the game that
 
 116 MOLLY AND I 
 
 he had forgotten his duties in the hall 
 below. 
 
 "She says not to pay her until she has 
 worked for you a couple of weeks." 
 
 "Poor beautiful idiot," commiserated 
 Philip. "I suppose she doesn't under- 
 stand that I am giving her this to get rid 
 of her. God knows that face will haunt 
 me for months, and those feet. I feel 
 like a criminal to turn her out to the mercy 
 of the street, but I can't do anything for 
 her. It's like striking a baby in the face 
 but I've got to do it." 
 
 He took her firmly by the arm and led 
 her unresistingly to the door, amid the 
 clatter of wooden shoes. He held the 
 portal wide open suggestively. 
 
 "If only she wouldn't smile so idioti- 
 cally, as if I were doing her a favor. She's 
 like a doll with the expression painted on. 
 Here "he placed the bill firmly in her 
 hand " nehmen Sie this take it in
 
 NOT ENOUGH FOR TWO 117 
 
 German or English as you like, and go, 
 gehe vamoose exit scat!" 
 He gave her a gentle push toward the 
 hall. 
 
 "Er will mich nicht," she inquired, in 
 pathetic tones. "Ich sollte eigentlich 
 fort?" 
 
 "Ja." Then to Philip the boy said, 
 "I'll go with her and put her out." 
 
 He took the girl by the hand and led 
 her away. 
 
 Philip closed the door but he did not 
 succeed in shutting out her presence be- 
 cause for a full minute he heard the 
 "clump clump" of those wooden-soled 
 shoes on the stairs and every "clump" 
 reminded him of the pathetic little figure 
 going out so inadequately equipped to do 
 battle with the city. 
 
 Once he started to go after her to call 
 her back, impelled by the thought of her 
 helplessness in a strange city, but he
 
 118 MOLLY AND I 
 
 turned back. What could he do to help 
 her? Perhaps she would meet someone 
 who could do more than he toward plac- 
 ing her in the way of employment. 
 
 The clatter of the wooden shoes grew 
 fainter, then died away entirely. Almost 
 immediately there was the sound of an 
 automobile engine being started in the 
 street below. Maybe, thought Philip, her 
 fairy godmother had met her in the street 
 and had turned one of her shoes into a 
 motor car it was big enough, and now 
 she was being whirled away like Cinder- 
 ella going to the ball in her pumpkin 
 coach.
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 NOT EVEN IF ONE IS A VERY SMALL GIRL 
 
 1LJE turned on the lights and went back 
 to his desk. The unfinished letter to 
 Marian lay face up before him. He read 
 it through and pushed it aside. That 
 could wait until to-morrow. 
 
 Under cover of darkness a storm had 
 been creeping stealthily over the city and 
 now with a few preliminary crashes of 
 artillery started a fusillade of rain that 
 beat gustily at the windows. It was one 
 of those sullen autumn storms in which 
 the elements seem out of temper, snarling 
 and hissing at the world and every once 
 in a while when their rage is sufficiently 
 worked up, shooting out cruel, forked 
 tongues of light that deal destruction 
 where they touch.
 
 120 MOLLY AND I 
 
 It was pretty hard luck for the emigrant 
 girl, thought Philip, to be out alone and 
 homeless in such weather. Probably by 
 this time, however, she was under shelter. 
 It was lucky he had given her that five 
 dollars. He would forget all about her. 
 A man couldn't carry the burdens of every 
 helpless vagrant he came in contact with. 
 Still, that trusting face with its ingratiat- 
 ing smile refused to be driven out of his 
 mind. But why should he care? He, 
 Philip Smith, had not been appointed 
 guardian of all the emigrant girls in the 
 world. She would have to look out for 
 herself. 
 
 He looked at his watch, a dollar affair, 
 and because the hands stood at eight 
 o'clock he estimated that it must be about 
 six. It gained regularly four hours a day 
 and he had set it in the morning. After 
 you got used to the mathematics of the 
 thing you could tell the hour by it just as
 
 NOT EVEN IF ONE IS SMALL 121 
 
 well as by a full-jeweled repeater. Any- 
 way it was time for Jack to return for the 
 evening meal. Philip left the desk and 
 dressed for dinner. This was not so 
 elaborate a process as you might suppose, 
 consisting as it did of washing his hands 
 and face and putting on a clean collar and 
 his other tie. 
 
 The storm outside put on a few extra 
 flourishes in the way of thunder and 
 lightning. The whole world reverber- 
 ated and jarred in sympathy. Owing 
 to that Philip did not at first hear 
 the rapping at his door. It was repeated 
 insistently. 
 
 At last in a lull it caught his ear and he 
 shouted, "Come in." 
 
 The door opened slowly. 
 
 For a ten-second interval Philip gazed 
 in helpless amazement at his visitor while 
 her clothes, absolutely soaked through, 
 dripped tiny puddles on the floor.
 
 122 MOLLY AND I 
 
 "Great Scott, you again!" he finally 
 ejaculated. 
 
 "Ja," she answered, evidently inter- 
 preting his tones if not his words. "Das 
 Geld habe ich verloren, da fing's an zu 
 regnen; ich wusste nicht wo ich hin sollte; 
 so bin ich zu Ihnen zuriickgekommen. 
 Sie sehen ja so freundlich aus!" 
 
 "Yes, of course," returned Philip, feel- 
 ing that he was called upon to say some- 
 thing in the interval, "in some respects 
 you are right, although there is a good 
 deal to be said on the other side." 
 
 She started to smile at him uncom- 
 prehendingly but an extra loud crash of 
 thunder changed her expression to one of 
 terror and dropping to her knees she has- 
 tily murmured a jargon which must have 
 been a German prayer. She was evidently 
 rushing it through in order to get her pe- 
 tition on file before the elements cut loose 
 again.
 
 NOT EVEN IF ONE IS SMALL 123 
 
 "The poor kid is frightened," said 
 Philip to himself. "I wonder if they 
 don't have thunder in Germany. They 
 haven't needed any since Wagner's time. 
 She's so wet I suppose she'll catch cold, 
 too." He held out his hand toward her. 
 "Come here," he commanded. 
 
 She looked up. 
 
 He repeated more loudly as if that 
 would make any difference in her under- 
 standing. "Come here!" He motioned 
 her toward him. 
 
 She scrambled to her feet hastily and 
 came to him, cringing a little as if she ex- 
 pected him to strike her. 
 
 "Where is your money?" he asked 
 sternly. 
 
 "What's German for money?" he asked 
 himself. "I remember, Geld. Where 
 is Geld?" 
 
 A beatific smile broke over her anxious 
 features and she held up a small piece of
 
 124 MOLLY AND I 
 
 the five-dollar bill which was firmly 
 clenched in her hands. The rest of it 
 had been torn off. 
 
 Philip examined it. 
 
 "What happened to the rest of it?" he 
 asked, then muttered to himself/' Why can't 
 I remember a couple of German words?" 
 
 He went through the motions of tearing 
 up the bill and throwing it away, looking 
 at her inquiringly. 
 
 The girl laughed and shook her head. 
 
 "Nein, nein. Ein kleines grimes Katz- 
 chen hat es gefressen." 
 
 "Wait a minute," Philip stopped her. 
 "I almost understood part of that. What 
 did you say?" 
 
 She understood and repeated slowly. 
 "Ein kleines" 
 
 "A little," he translated. 
 
 "Grimes " 
 
 "A little green " 
 
 "Katzchen "
 
 NOT EVEN IF ONE IS SMALL 125 
 
 "Kitten. A little green kitten " 
 
 "Hates" 
 
 "Has it" 
 
 "Gefressen." She looked at him anx- 
 iously to see if he comprehended. 
 
 He shook his head. 
 
 "I can't get that 'gefressen' thing." 
 
 "Gefressen, gefressen," she reiterated, 
 going through the motions of chewing and 
 swallowing. "Gefressen." 
 
 "Eating. I understand. A little green 
 kitten has it eaten. I wonder if you are 
 kidding me in German. A little green 
 kitten has eaten my five dollars. There's 
 something wrong with my German some- 
 where." 
 
 A crash of thunder brought the girl to 
 her knees again. He took her hand and 
 raised her gently. 
 
 "It's all right," he said, soothingly. 
 "Don't be scared. Uncle Dudley will 
 protect you. You can stay here until the
 
 126 MOLLY AND I 
 
 storm is over. Then I'll find you a place 
 to sleep until you get a job. We must 
 first change your clothes. I don't know 
 how we are going to do it without being a 
 fairy queen, but you're so wet we've got 
 to do something." He led her to the 
 rocking chair. "Sit down." He motioned 
 her to take a seat. 
 
 She did so, regarding her benefactor 
 with childlike interest. 
 
 "First let's get these off." He knelt at 
 her feet and unfastened the heavy shoes. 
 Taking one of them off he held it up. 
 "Your education may as well begin right 
 now!" Pointing to the shoe he repeated 
 slowly and with emphasis, " Shoe, shoe, 
 - shoe." 
 
 She smiled with quick comprehension. 
 
 "Choo, choo, choo," she said. 
 
 " No, this isn't a railroad train. Listen." 
 He spoke more deliberately and more 
 loudly each time. "Shoe, shoe, shoe."
 
 NOT EVEN IF ONE IS SMALL 127 
 
 She imitated him as closely as possible, 
 also shouting louder on each repetition, 
 "Choo, choo, -- choo." 
 
 "The train is approaching. Very fair 
 imitation without props." 
 
 He started to take off her other boot. 
 "Great Scott, look at what was inside of 
 this." He held up a very tiny foot en- 
 closed in a floppy, wet, white stocking. 
 "You seem to have shrunk since you got 
 wet." 
 
 She laughed and cooed, "Choo choo 
 choo." 
 
 "She learns quickly," said Philip, chiefly 
 to himself. "I wonder if I could teach 
 her to say 'I love you'?" 
 
 "I love - - you," repeated the girl 
 slowly. 
 
 "No, no, you mustn't." He was kneel- 
 ing in front of her, struggling with a re- 
 fractory knot in the piece of string which 
 was doing substitute duty for a shoe-lace.
 
 128 MOLLY AND I 
 
 "It's funny how easy it is to teach a 
 woman to say that. Before we go any 
 further suppose you tell me what your 
 name is. Listen. What is your name?" 
 
 The girl looked anxiously in his face but 
 remained dumb. 
 
 He pointed to her. "Name name 
 name." 
 
 She repeated carefully, " Name name 
 name." 
 
 "No, wait." He pointed to himself 
 and said distinctly, "Philip Smith." 
 
 She made the same gesture toward her- 
 self and said, "Philip Smith." 
 
 "No, no. Me Philip Smith, you 
 what?" 
 
 "Ach!" Her face wreathed in smiles. 
 "Mein Name ist Sophia Abendthaler." 
 
 "Sophia Abendthaler. It ain't possible. 
 You got that name where you bought 
 those shoes. We've got to have some name 
 that fits you with the shoes off." He
 
 NOT EVEN IF ONE IS SMALL 129 
 
 thought a moment and then said, impres- 
 sively, '"Your name is Molly, Molly, 
 -Molly!" 
 
 She laughed. "Mein Name ist Molly- 
 mollymolly. Und Sie, Sie sind Uncle 
 Sam." 
 
 "No, Philip Smith." 
 
 "Nein, Uncle Sam." 
 
 "Have it your own way. I suppose 
 that is the only English name you 
 know. I'll be Uncle Sam." He drew 
 off the shoe and placed it beside the 
 first. 
 
 "Soil ich mir die Striimpfe ausziehen?" 
 she inquired. 
 
 "I don't get you, but whatever you say 
 is all right." 
 
 She repeated her question, indicating her 
 stockings. 
 
 "Oh yes. I suppose you'll have to. I'll 
 turn my back." 
 
 He examined one of the new pictures
 
 130 MOLLY AND I 
 
 on the wall until she said "Fertig," then 
 returned to find her wiggling two sets of 
 tiny pink toes. 
 
 "Das is der Daumen," she indicated a 
 big toe, "der schiittelte die Pflaumen " 
 
 "I know that. This little pig went to 
 market." She laughed. He removed the 
 head-dress from her hair and the shawl 
 from her shoulders. 
 
 She stood and started to take off her 
 skirt. 
 
 "Just a minute. Before we go any 
 further let's find something to put on after 
 you get that off." 
 
 He went to the tiny closet which con- 
 tained his wardrobe and brought a gaudy, 
 warm-looking dressing-gown and from his 
 trunk he produced a suit of pajamas. 
 
 "This is the best I can do for a lady," 
 he apologized. "You can put them on in 
 the bathroom and we'll try to dry out 
 your own clothes before you leave."
 
 NOT EVEN IF ONE IS SMALL 131 
 
 He led her to the bathroom and handed 
 her the things. She nodded and smiled 
 brightly to show that she understood and 
 went in. 
 
 Philip returned to the rocking-chair and 
 spread out the wet shawl, head-dress and 
 stockings. The heavy shoes he picked up 
 and examined curiously, then thoughtfully 
 let one of them drop to the floor with a 
 loud thump. 
 
 "Cinderella," he murmured.
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 SO THE GIRL WILL HAVE TO LEAVE 
 
 HHHERE was a rap at the door. Jack, of 
 
 . course, he had forgotten about him. 
 Philip grabbed the clothes with one arm 
 and threw them into the kitchenette, 
 picked up a pipe, sat down and started to 
 light it. 
 
 "Come in." 
 
 "All ready?" queried Jack briskly. 
 "It's raining pitchforks out to-night so 
 let's eat in the cafe downstairs." 
 
 "All right," assented Philip. "Suppose 
 you go down and order for me. I'll be 
 down in a minute." 
 
 "There's no hurry. I'll wait until you 
 wash up." 
 
 "It isn't a question of washing. I've 
 got a letter to write."
 
 SO THE GIRL WILL LEAVE 133 
 
 "Go ahead, then. I'll wash up a bit 
 myself while you're doing it." Jack started 
 for the bathroom. 
 
 "Just a minute, don't go in there." 
 
 "Why not?" 
 
 "I've got some negatives developing in 
 there and if you open the door they'll be 
 light-struck." 
 
 "Oh, I didn't know that you were in- 
 terested in photography." 
 
 "Yes, extensively. You can order a 
 steak for me and whatever vegetables 
 sound interesting." 
 
 He took his friend by the arm and was 
 about to lead him to the hall when the 
 bathroom door opened and the emigrant 
 girl stood gazing in startled surprise at the 
 strange man. She was an unexpected 
 picture, herself, even to Philip, who had seen 
 the pajamas and dressing-gown before. 
 
 The legs and arms of the pajamas had 
 been constructed to cover about six feet
 
 134 MOLLY AND I 
 
 and a half of man and lapped over con- 
 siderably on the five-foot occupant. The 
 dressing-gown, too, of generous propor- 
 tions, made her look as if a circus tent had 
 collapsed over her. 
 
 After the first shock of surprise was 
 over, the girl dropped a curtesy and 
 smiled. 
 
 "As a photographer, Phil," said Jack, 
 sotto voce, "you're a great success." 
 
 "You might as well know the truth," 
 said Philip. " This is a girl." 
 
 "I am astonished at your frankness." 
 
 "After I present you I'll tell you about 
 her." He took the girl by the arm and 
 led her down the steps. "Molly, this is 
 Mr. Herrick." 
 
 She started to give him her hand, dis- 
 covered that it was covered by the dang- 
 ling end of a sleeve and laughed. She held 
 it out mutely to Philip to be fixed. He 
 rolled back the cuff.
 
 "As a photographer, Phil," said Jack, sotto voce, "you're 
 a great success."
 
 SO THE GIRL WILL LEAVE 135 
 
 She gravely shook hands with the artist. 
 
 "How do you do?" murmured Jack, 
 deeply mystified. 
 
 "Wie geht's, Herr Herrick, du kleiner 
 Schema?" 
 
 "What did she say? 
 
 "Don't you understand German?" 
 
 "Not a word. I can worry along in 
 French but German is beyond me." 
 
 "That makes it a good deal easier for 
 me to translate what she says to you. 
 Just then she remarked that her great 
 uncle who was shot wore a suit just like 
 the one you've got on." 
 
 "I don't believe she said that." 
 
 "I assure you," said Philip gravely, 
 "that what I said is as near an exact 
 translation of her speech as it is possible 
 for me to give. Of course you understand 
 the German language is more flexible than 
 ours and it is impossible to get the shades 
 of meaning in the English equivalent."
 
 136 MOLLY AND I 
 
 "Oh. Now supposing you tell me what 
 it is all about." Then seeing from Phil- 
 ip's eye that he was casting about in his 
 mind for an explanation, Jack went on, 
 "You might just as well tell the truth be- 
 cause I'll believe it's a lie anyway and you 
 can save your imaginative faculties for 
 your stories." 
 
 "You wrong me because I wouldn't 
 waste fiction on a person of your caliber. 
 The absolute truth of the matter is that 
 she is a girl you adopted when you were 
 abroad this summer and when she arrived 
 this afternoon you weren't home so I took 
 her in and gave her some dry clothes to 
 wear until you came." 
 
 Having ordered dinner to be sent up to 
 the apartment from the cafe downstairs, 
 Philip formed the party into a ways and 
 means committee to provide for Molly's 
 future. After telling Jack how she really 
 had arrived and showing him the wet
 
 SO THE GIRL WILL LEAVE 137 
 
 garments and the wooden-soled shoes as 
 proof of his statements, he seemed to con- 
 sider that Jack was as much involved in 
 her welfare as himself. 
 
 "But I don't see," protested the artist, 
 "why it is any of our affair.'* 
 
 "I didn't either until she came back 
 the second time. After you've let her 
 look at you for half an hour with those 
 trustful, baby eyes of hers you'll feel dif- 
 ferent about it. We've simply got to 
 find a home for her." 
 
 "You talk as if she were a kitten you 
 had found out on the sidewalk. Why 
 not advertise, * Wanted, a home for a 
 small, strong, German girl, answers to the 
 name of "Molly," very playful, fond of 
 children, color, white and pink except for 
 dark smudge of coal soot on nose.' ' 
 
 The girl, unnoticed by the two men, 
 gave a slight start and raised her hand an 
 inch from the arm of the chair in which
 
 138 MOLLY AND I 
 
 she was sitting, then with an effort con- 
 trolled the movement and rested her hand 
 hi its former position. 
 
 "But she hasn't any soot mark on her 
 nose." Philip examined her face carefully 
 and with evident pleasure. 
 
 "No, but we could put one on and it 
 makes her description sound more com- 
 plete." He produced a pipe from his 
 coat pocket. 
 
 "Did you notice the scar on her cheek, 
 though?" said Philip, continuing his scru- 
 tiny. "If anything it makes her look 
 prettier, I think. Do you know, Jack, 
 she knows I am talking about her just 
 the way a dog does when you praise it. 
 Look at the way she is blushing. She's 
 a picture!" 
 
 " If you don't look below the head, yes. 
 I never suspected you having such bad 
 taste in pajamas. That striped pattern 
 looks as if it had been picked out by a
 
 SO THE GIRL WILL LEAVE 139 
 
 blind Bulgarian who didn't even hear 
 very well." 
 
 "Can you beat her, sitting there grinning 
 like a cat while we're guying her? It's 
 lucky she doesn't understand English. 
 Look at her, Jack, can't you almost see 
 a ray of intelligence in that face? Am I 
 enthusiastic because she is pretty or does 
 she look to you as if she might have a 
 little sense?" 
 
 "I think I can detect a sort of a bright 
 look once in a while. We'll put that in 
 the advertisement. It may help to dispose 
 of her." Jack paused in the act of strik- 
 ing a match. "Ask her if she objects to 
 my pipe, will you, Phil?" 
 
 Philip hesitated a moment and then 
 said forcefully, "Ich weiss nicht was soil 
 es bedeuten dass ich so traurig bin." 
 
 "Gee, you do speak German, don't 
 you!" Jack was wide eyed with admira- 
 tion.
 
 140 MOLLY AND I 
 
 " Oh, a little," admitted Philip modestly, 
 wondering if he could remember the words 
 of any more German college songs. 
 
 Molly looked at Philip inquiringly, 
 "Was sagen Sie?" 
 
 Philip soberly repeated once more the 
 first two lines of "Die Lorelei." To his 
 astonishment the girl smiled and replied 
 gravely, "Ein kleiner roter Elefant 
 kommt sich ohne alle andern roten Ele- 
 fanten gar zu einsam vor." 
 
 "What did she say?" 
 
 "I don't like to tell you for fear it may 
 hurt your feelings." 
 
 "Go ahead, I don't mind." 
 
 "She said she doesn't mind a good pipe 
 and regular tobacco but she doesn't care 
 for the smell of burning cabbage." 
 
 "But that's what you always say about 
 this mixture, yourself. She didn't say that." 
 
 "Sure she did. I think she and I agree 
 on a great many things. I wish Marian
 
 SO THE GIRL WILL LEAVE 141 
 
 were here. She'd know what to do with 
 her." 
 
 "You bet she would," Jack grumbled, 
 putting his pipe back in his pocket. 
 "She'd give the girl a meal of ground 
 glass and a nice place to expire in." 
 
 "What makes you say that? " demanded 
 Philip. 
 
 "Because Marian doesn't like to have 
 any other woman around the man she is 
 interested in and just now she regards 
 you as her property. Savvy? I've known 
 her ten years and I never saw her so much 
 in love before in all that time. As the 
 proverb says *A word to the wise never 
 does any good.' ' 
 
 The waiter from the cafe arrived at 
 that moment with a trayful of covered 
 dishes containing the dinner and Philip 
 assisted him in getting things on the table. 
 The waiter seemed mildly interested in 
 the voluminously clad figure in the dress-
 
 142 MOLLY AND I 
 
 ing-gown but Philip volunteered no ex- 
 planation and he asked no questions. 
 
 When they were alone again Philip 
 motioned his guests to the table. "Dinner 
 is served, Mademoiselle and Monsieur," he 
 announced and drew back a chair for the 
 girl. "I wonder if she eats with her fin- 
 gers. Probably she does, so don't be 
 surprised. No, by George, I see a light of 
 understanding in her eye when she sees 
 a knife. It's all right, she is going to eat 
 with her knife. That suggests dangerous 
 possibilities, however, if she isn't very 
 skillful. Will you serve the stuff, Jack, 
 while I fix her out with all the protection 
 we have?" 
 
 Philip unfolded a napkin and tied it 
 securely around the girl's neck, bib fashion. 
 
 "Did you ever see anything like this 
 girl's hair?" he queried, standing in back 
 looking down upon her as he tied the nap- 
 kin. "Nothing but fine, soft gold and it's
 
 SO THE GIRL WILL LEAVE 143 
 
 clean too. You won't find hair like that 
 on an American girl." 
 
 "I admit she is pretty," Jack concurred, 
 "but that's no excuse for neglecting your 
 dinner. Sit down and follow the example 
 of your adopted white elephant." 
 
 Molly was busily eating the lump 
 sugar out of the bowl as fast as she could 
 gobble it. 
 
 "Here here here, Molly, stop!" 
 ejaculated Philip sternly, catching her 
 arm in mid-air as she reached for a lump. 
 "You mustn't!" He shook his head at 
 her and slapped her wrists gently. "No, 
 no, nein nein." 
 
 She looked at him gravely with a hurt 
 expression. " Hatte ich das nicht gesollt?" 
 
 "She says 'Pass the bread,'" Philip 
 translated recklessly. 
 
 "All right, but she has two pieces al- 
 ready." 
 
 Molly improved the shining moments
 
 144 MOLLY AND I 
 
 between conversation by cramming food 
 into her mouth with her knife. She was 
 not so skillful at this handy method of 
 eating as she might have been and the 
 result was highly ornamental to that por- 
 tion of her face immediately adjacent to 
 her lips. 
 
 "I hate to contemplate the result 
 when she tackles the blueberry pie," mur- 
 mured the host, horribly fascinated by 
 the girl's unsuccessful attempts to mar 
 her beauty. 
 
 "She's a lot prettier than any K. M. I 
 ever saw," Jack commented, the artist in 
 him rising to an appreciation of her fine 
 points. "Her face isn't classic or even 
 pure in outline but it is interesting. I 
 didn't know Germans ever had pug noses, 
 though." 
 
 "Halt, man," commanded Philip, "how 
 can you call anything about her 'pug'? 
 Her nose may be tip-tilted just a wee bit
 
 SO THE GIRL WILL LEAVE 145 
 
 like a rosebud turning itself up for a 
 draught of morning dew but " 
 
 "Say no more. I take back what I 
 said; I am overwhelmed with similes. A 
 nose by any other name would smell the 
 same. Tell her I think she is pretty." 
 
 "I seem to be a third party to a rather 
 desperate flirtation. Well, here goes." 
 He gravely fixed Molly with his eye and 
 soberly stated, "Ach, du lieber, lieber, 
 ach, du lieber, lieber, ein, zwei, drei, vier, 
 fiinf." 
 
 Just as gravely the girl replied, "Sehen 
 Sie doch den schwarzen Hund! Er jagt 
 die gelbe Katze. Katze kann ich schon 
 buchstabieren; K-A-T." 
 
 " Ja, ja," Philip murmured, nodding his 
 head as if he understood. "She says she 
 thanks you very much but wants to warn 
 you that she is married already and has 
 three husbands now living in Germany. 
 Look," he ejaculated in mock consterna-
 
 146 MOLLY AND I 
 
 tion, "see what she is doing with that pie. 
 Is there a doctor in the building if she 
 should cut herself?" 
 
 Molly was absorbed in the difficult 
 feat of getting a strip of pie an inch 
 wide and about three inches long into 
 her mouth without dropping it. She suc- 
 ceeded at last and all drew a breath of 
 relief. 
 
 "She won't cut herself," assured Jack. 
 "My grandfather ate with his knife all his 
 life and he's ninety-four now." 
 
 "You can get statistics to prove any- 
 thing. But don't spring a joke even in 
 English. If she should laugh now I hate 
 to think of the consequences." 
 
 When the meal was over and Philip had 
 removed the last trace of blueberry pie 
 from Molly's cheeks the waiter took away 
 the dishes. 
 
 "As it is still raining," said Philip, glanc- 
 ing out of the window at the storm which
 
 SO THE GIRL WILL LEAVE 147 
 
 was raging lustily, "I wish we could get 
 her a place to stay for the night somewhere 
 in the building. I hate to think of send- 
 ing her out into the wet." 
 
 "Why don't you ask the hall-boy? 
 He'll know if there are any vacant serv- 
 ants' quarters available." 
 
 The hall-boy informed Philip over the 
 telephone that servants' quarters were to 
 be had but there would be no room ready 
 for occupancy before the next day. He 
 added, however, that there was a cheap 
 boarding-house in the next block where 
 they might take care of her. 
 
 "That will have to do," decided Philip. 
 "Will you stay here with her, Jack, and 
 see that she gets back into her own clothes 
 while I go around there and make arrange- 
 ments?" 
 
 "Me stay here?" questioned Jack in 
 alarm. "Nothing doing. I wouldn't 
 know how to tell her anything. You
 
 148 MOLLY AND I 
 
 understand what she says, so you stay 
 here and I'll go and rent the room." 
 
 That arrangement did not annoy Philip 
 as much as he pretended it did because it 
 saved him the necessity of going out in 
 the rain, so Jack set forth in search of 
 lodging for the night. 
 
 The elements were apparently waiting 
 for him to come out because he had 
 no sooner left than pandemonium let 
 loose. In Philip's apartment the win- 
 dows banged and rattled viciously as if 
 some malignant witch were outside trying 
 to get in. 
 
 Philip, looking out over the city to see 
 signs of a clearing sky, turned away after 
 a particularly blinding flash of lightning 
 to console the little German girl. 
 
 She was nowhere to be seen. Appar- 
 ently the room was empty. 
 
 "Where are you?" shouted Philip. 
 "Molly! Molly!"
 
 SO THE GIRL WILL LEAVE 149 
 
 "Ja," came a voice from somewhere, 
 "Hier, Uncle Sam." 
 
 He looked all around before his eyes 
 fell on a face peering out from under the 
 table. 
 
 "Come out of there, you. What's the 
 matter? " 
 
 He took her hand and half pulled her 
 out from her shelter. At another crash of 
 thunder she started, however, and scram- 
 bled back. 
 
 "Are you afraid of thunder?" He 
 pointed outside. 
 
 She nodded vigorously. 
 
 "It can't hurt you, Molly." He helped 
 her out and stood her on her feet. "I 
 know just how you feel, though, because 
 I used to be afraid of thunder, too, when I 
 was a kid. Whenever it stormed I would 
 run to my mother and she'd take me in her 
 arms and rock me and tell me fairy stories 
 until I'd forget all about it."
 
 150 MOLLY AND I 
 
 Molly went to the sideboard from which 
 she took eight glasses. These she placed 
 on the floor, much to the mystification of 
 Philip. 
 
 " She's a Japanese juggler, "he murmured 
 to himself, " and this is one of her tricks." 
 
 Molly took two of the dining-room chairs 
 and placed their legs in the glasses. Then 
 she sat on one of them and curled her feet 
 up under her, a pose suggestive of the dis- 
 comfort of a Chinese god. 
 
 "I remember," commented the man, 
 "my grandmother used to do that stunt. 
 The glass is supposed to be a non-conduc- 
 tor so if you keep your feet off the floor 
 you are safe from lightning." 
 
 Molly motioned toward the other chair. 
 
 "Uncle Sam, bitte, sitzen Sie sich!" 
 
 "All right." He sat beside her. "You 
 want to save me from the general de- 
 struction do you? I don't know whether 
 I can do that trick with my feet though."
 
 SO THE GIRL WILL LEAVE 151 
 
 "Choo, choo, -- choo, Uncle Sam, I 
 love you," softly whispered Molly, getting 
 rid of all her English at once. "Singen 
 sie mir doch was vor!" 
 
 "What did you say?" 
 
 "Singen Sie!" 
 
 "Sing?" 
 
 "Ja." 
 
 "I can't." 
 
 "Bitte, Uncle Sam, I love you!" 
 
 "She doesn't know what she is saying," 
 Philip commented aloud. "I guess she 
 means it as much as most women do, at 
 that." 
 
 Molly put her hand confidingly in his. 
 "Bitte!" 
 
 "Your hand is like a baby's and I 
 turned you out into the street. Thank 
 God, you came back." 
 
 "Danke schon." She looked up at 
 him expectantly. 
 
 "I can't sing. Honest to goodness, my
 
 152 MOLLY AND I 
 
 education was neglected in that branch, 
 but I'll tell you a story and after that you 
 can dress and I'll take you to a boarding- 
 house. It won't have to be a very good 
 story because you won't understand it 
 anyway. Here follows The Strange Tale 
 of the Baldheaded Mermaid."
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 
 THE STRANGE TALE OF THE BALDHEADED 
 MERMAID 
 
 upon a time there was a mer- 
 maid by the name of Estelle who had 
 been entirely bald from birth. Never 
 upon the shiny roof of her alleged intellect 
 had there sprouted a single follicle. 
 Tresses shunned the slippery surface of 
 her head as too insecure a place to roost. 
 
 Aside from this defect Estelle's beauty 
 was as great as that of one of the heroines 
 Elinor Glyn describes so well after eating a 
 peck of catnip. By that you are supposed to 
 infer that she had a figure that would have 
 made her unpopular with women anywhere 
 in the world. Her face, too, was one that 
 would have obtained her a position on
 
 154 MOLLY AND I 
 
 one of Ziegfeld's choruses any day. It's 
 an open question, of course, whether Zieg- 
 feld ever noticed that ladies have faces. 
 
 When Estelle was a mere tadpole, so to 
 speak, and after that, when she was a 
 frisky tomboy, it didn't make much dif- 
 ference whether she had hair or not. In 
 some ways it was an advantage. She could 
 get dressed quicker than her sisters, who 
 always had to spend hours on their coif- 
 fures before they could do anything amus- 
 ing. As far as Estelle was concerned get- 
 ting up consisted of opening both eyes and 
 putting on a fresh pleasant smile. Then 
 she was ready for the day. Her father, 
 Neptune, who was incidentally the parent 
 of several hundred thousand other mer- 
 maids, was especially nice to her. One 
 reason for that was because she was the 
 only one of his daughters he could be 
 reasonably sure of the name of. The rest 
 looked more or less alike but there is no
 
 THE BALDHEADED MERMAID 155 
 
 mistaking a baldheaded mermaid, as 
 you must admit if you've ever seen one. 
 
 Neptune allowed her to have a catfish 
 and a dogfish for pets. The catfish was 
 named Tom, although it wasn't really 
 that kind of a cat. at all, and the dogfish 
 would come when you whistled, which is 
 hard to do under water, as you know. 
 Tom and the dogfish quarrelled a great 
 deal and it was a very tame evening which 
 didn't end by Neptune's kicking them 
 both out of doors. Tom also got into the 
 annoying habit of having kittens every 
 month or so. This used to break Estelle's 
 heart because her father wouldn't let her 
 keep them but insisted on tying stones 
 around their necks and drowning them. 
 After a batch of Tommy's offspring had 
 thus perished, Estelle always cried herself 
 to sleep but nobody ever knew it as the 
 water was salty, anyway. 
 
 But when she grew up into young mer-
 
 156 MOLLY AND I 
 
 maidenhood her troubles began in earnest. 
 The business of mermaids in general is to 
 sit on rocks and sing and comb their hair 
 until some sailor leaves his ship and comes 
 to them. Now Estelle had a voice like 
 the music of wind bells in a gentle breeze 
 and she could sit on a rock as well as any- 
 body. But when it came to combing the 
 hair Estelle simply was not there. Not 
 but what she had plenty of combs. One 
 of her aunts absentmindedly gave her a 
 beautiful tortoise-shell one, every Christ- 
 mas. But there was nothing to comb. 
 Sailors would hear her singing on a rock 
 and leave their ships to come to her and 
 then, when they'd get a glimpse of that 
 vacant sky -piece glistening in the moon- 
 light, they'd laugh and swim right back 
 to their ships. 
 
 As a siren Estelle left too much to the 
 imagination. 
 
 The real tragedy of Estelle's baldness
 
 THE BALDHEADED MERMAID 157 
 
 lay in the fact that she fell desperately in 
 love with a young Triton. He was quite 
 the most popular Triton in her part of the 
 ocean and all the mermaids adored him 
 and set their caps for him. It will give 
 you an idea of how handsome he was when 
 I tell you his name was Herbert and he 
 looked the part. To Estelle he paid no 
 attention whatever except to swear occa- 
 sionally when he found her lying across 
 his doorstep in the morning when he got up. 
 No matter how ingratiatingly she smiled 
 at him and wagged her tail he brushed by 
 her as if she had been a mere dogfish. 
 
 In common with everyone else in the 
 world who is bald, Estelle was the recip- 
 ient of a great deal of advice. One friend 
 advised electric treatments and for weeks 
 Estelle rubbed her head on the Atlantic 
 cable. Another said she had heard that 
 going bareheaded in the sun would grow 
 hair and after that every bright day found
 
 158 MOLLY AND I 
 
 Estelle roosting on the beach until her 
 pretty pink and white skin turned a bright 
 angry red and then a rich mahogany shade. 
 But the down failed to materialize and 
 one day when she woke up from an after- 
 noon nap and found an ostrich vainly 
 trying to hatch something out of her 
 egg-shaped cranium, she gave it up and 
 spent a week in the cool, coral caves at 
 the bottom of the ocean, thoughtfully 
 peeling herself. 
 
 Then came Estelle's deliverance. One 
 day she was swimming along beside a 
 great ocean liner, attempting to entice the 
 captain, who stood on the bridge, to jump 
 overboard. The cViptain did not notice 
 her. Neither did any of the other men on 
 board. The reason was because there was 
 an atrociously beautiful woman on the 
 ship. Her skin Was almost as beautiful as 
 Estelle's and she wore the stunningest 
 clothes she could get in Paris. But her
 
 THE BALDHEADED MERMAID 159 
 
 chiefest charm lay in her hair. It was 
 bright, shiny gold, wonderfully done up in 
 curls and ringlets and braids and pom- 
 padours. Altogether it struck Estelle, who 
 was something of a connoisseur in hair, as 
 the most desirable head-covering she had 
 ever set eyes upon. But more marvelous 
 even than the hair was a hat which nestled 
 lovingly upon her head. It was a gorgeous 
 thing of black velvet and plumes, which 
 made the golden hair seem more golden 
 and the milky white skin more dazzling. 
 Hair and hat were an irresistible combina- 
 tion. From morning till night this ra- 
 diant creature was the center of an admir- 
 ing masculine crowd. When she spoke, 
 they held their breath, when she smiled, 
 they roared in appreciative laughter and, 
 if she expressed the slightest wish, they 
 fought each other for the privilege of 
 gratifying it. 
 
 Estelle followed the ship all day, tor-
 
 160 MOLLY AND I 
 
 luring herself with envy of this woman 
 who pleased without effort. 
 
 Then suddenly toward nightfall a squall 
 came up. The beautiful woman on the 
 ship was too busy enchanting everybody 
 in sight to notice it. 
 
 That was how it happened that she was 
 standing out on the open deck when the 
 wind swooped. 
 
 It was all over in a second. The first 
 gust of the gale got under the beautiful 
 black hat and hurled it far out across the 
 waves. But horror of horrors, the 
 hat was securely fastened to the lady's 
 hair, more securely in fact than the hair 
 was attached to the lady herself. In a 
 second the lady's circle of admirers were 
 convulsed with jeering laughter. Estelle 
 recognized their laugh as the same she had 
 heard so often as the sailors swam back 
 to their ships after she had failed to charm 
 them. It was the same laugh and for the
 
 same reason. The beautiful lady was as 
 bald as Estelle herself. 
 
 All this Estelle noticed in the twink- 
 ling of an eye, while the lady's head-cover- 
 ing was flying through the air, and before 
 it finally dropped into her own out- 
 stretched arms. Her first thought was to 
 swim after the ship and give back the hair 
 to the lady but her generous impulse lasted 
 only a second. Without the hair the 
 lady looked like Estelle; with it Estelle 
 might look as the lady had. Estelle 
 turned and dived straight for the bottom 
 of the ocean. 
 
 You will have to imagine how she 
 looked when she came home that night, 
 resplendent with elaborately dressed 
 golden hair and the large, velvet hat 
 with ostrich plumes. All the Tritons 
 and mermen and even the masculine 
 fish clustered about her while other 
 mermaids hung around in an outer circle,
 
 162 MOLLY AND I 
 
 murmuring "Peroxide" as a sort of a 
 cuss-word. 
 
 Handsome Herbert, the scrumptious 
 Triton, fell for her at once and on the 
 second day after Estelle blossomed out as 
 a deep-sea show girl he proposed to her. 
 Under the golden tresses, however, Estelle 
 had developed a slight swelling that 
 blinded her to his charms and she did not 
 flop into his arms as she had often pic- 
 tured herself doing. On the contrary she 
 refused to give him a definite answer and 
 went up and sat on a rock to sing to the 
 seamen. 
 
 This time she was successful. Every 
 sailor who caught a glimpse of that golden 
 head sprang overboard and swam to her 
 side. Every evening it was the same. It 
 got so that ships had to avoid her part of 
 the ocean if they wanted to get into port. 
 Estelle was so popular and so busy siren- 
 ing that she frequently had to keep at it
 
 THE BALDHEADED MERMAID 163 
 
 until after eight bells of the dog watch 
 which is dreadful late to have to stay 
 awake. 
 
 But always when she came in, there was 
 faithful Herbert with a reproachful look 
 in his eyes, waiting to ask her if she had 
 made up her mind yet. And always she 
 yawned and told him to wait until to- 
 morrow. 
 
 That sort of thing went on for fifty 
 years. Estelle was still as beautiful as 
 ever because mermaids never grow old, 
 but the same cannot be said of the black 
 velvet hat. Estelle did not know it but 
 that kind of millinery went hopelessly out 
 of style. It got so far behind times that 
 even the sailors noticed it and laughed a 
 little at her when she was sirening. Fin- 
 ally it got so they laughed almost as 
 much as they used to when she was bald 
 and a terrible fear clutched at the heart 
 of Estelle. With tears in her eyes she
 
 164 MOLLY AND I 
 
 caught one of the seamen as he was 
 swimming back to his ship and demanded 
 an explanation of his laughter. 
 
 "It's the lid, little one," he explained, 
 floating on his back for a moment to rest. 
 "They ain't been wearing that kind of a 
 bonnet since the year Fremont ran against 
 Buchanan." 
 
 Deeply humbled, Estelle went home. 
 Herbert was waiting for her but she 
 thought she detected the suspicion of a 
 smile on his handsome mouth and she 
 whisked past him angrily, giving him a 
 slap with her tail as she went by. 
 
 For days and days she sulked in her 
 coral cave and would speak to no one. 
 Her sisters, talking among themselves, 
 commented on the fact that Herbert, the 
 Triton, no longer stood outside the door, 
 having deserted his post for the first time 
 in fifty years, and they cast commiserat- 
 ing glances at Estelle, who seemed doomed
 
 THE BALDHEADED MERMAID 165 
 
 to be an old mermaid. Bitterly she up- 
 braided herself for not marrying Herbert 
 when she had the chance. Day suc- 
 ceeded day and Estelle grew pale and 
 thin, pining for the love she might have 
 had. 
 
 Then one sunny morning Neptune came 
 to her and said that Herbert was back and 
 wanted to see her. With a thrill Estelle 
 said she would be down in a minute and 
 began taking off the hat which had not 
 left her head in fifty years. Her gol- 
 den curls she arranged as becomingly 
 as she knew how and putting on a fresh 
 pleasant smile which she fixed as firmly 
 as possible she was all ready to meet her 
 fate. 
 
 Sure enough, Herbert was there, carry- 
 ing a great, round, pasteboard box, tied 
 with ribbons, which he held out to her 
 silently. With trembling fingers she 
 opened it and there was a tiny, exquisite
 
 166 MOLLY AND I 
 
 hat of the latest fashion, with wonderful 
 aigrettes and a golden buckle on it. 
 
 With a cry of delight Estelle turned to 
 Herbert. He, wisest of all the Tritons, 
 stood with open arms.
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 
 LATER BULLETIN: THE MAN HAS TO LEAVE 
 
 what do you think he said?" 
 questioned Philip of the little peas- 
 ant girl. 
 
 She answered, sleepily, "Uncle Sam, I 
 love you," then yawned and shut her eyes, 
 as she leaned against his shoulder. 
 
 "That wasn't exactly what she said 
 but it was nearly that." 
 
 "Uncle Sam, I " She reached out 
 and slipped one of her tiny hands in his. 
 Then with a contented sigh she broke off 
 in the midst of her single English phrase 
 and fell asleep. 
 
 "Now it's time to dress and go to the 
 place where you are going to sleep," 
 suggested the man, loudly.
 
 168 MOLLY AND I 
 
 The girl turned her head on his shoulder, 
 reaching for a softer hollow, apparently 
 found it and rested more heavily against 
 him. 
 
 "I said," repeated the man, "that it's 
 time to " 
 
 He looked around helplessly. What was 
 the correct thing to do when a tiny little 
 lady in pajamas fell asleep on one's 
 shoulder? 
 
 His indecision lasted but a moment. He 
 rose, picked up the warm, slender body in 
 his arms, letting the voluminous bath robe 
 fall to the floor, and transported her, with 
 the long pajamas legs and arms dangling 
 over her feet and hands, to the adjoining 
 room and placed her on his bed. Almost 
 instantly she assumed the customary at- 
 titude of an anchovy when he sees a piece 
 of toast. Yes, she was sound asleep. It 
 would be a shame to awaken her, but, good 
 Lord ! did she always smile when she slept
 
 LATER BULLETIN 169 
 
 and was it natural for a girl's cheeks to be 
 so pink and her lips so red? Maybe she 
 was feverish. He put his hand on her 
 cheek to find out but drew it away quickly 
 when she nestled her face in it as if she 
 expected it to stay there as a pillow. No, 
 her cheek was not hot. 
 
 He covered her up warmly, opened the 
 windows wide, got his hat and coat, 
 turned out the light and tip-toed quietly 
 to the door. 
 
 Downstairs, in the hallway of the apart- 
 ment building he waited until his artist 
 friend returned. 
 
 "Where's the kid?" Jack demanded. 
 "I've found a place for her. It ain't 
 much but it will do for to-night. It's 
 on" 
 
 "Never mind telling me where it is. 
 Take me there. I'm going to sleep in it 
 myself." 
 
 Before morning he regretted his generos-
 
 170 MOLLY AND I 
 
 ity at least once an hour. Rather a 
 fastidious sleeper anyway, the squeaky 
 springs and hard, lifeless mattress of his 
 hastily requisitioned quarters compared 
 ill with the bachelor comfort of his apart- 
 ment and kept him from more than doz- 
 ing all night long. 
 
 Well, it was only one night. When he 
 got up in the morning his chief idea was 
 to get rid of her as quickly as possible. 
 Fortunately it was a fine, sunshiny day. 
 It would not be so hard to turn her adrift 
 in pleasant weather. It should be done 
 right after breakfast. 
 
 He decided not to make the move be- 
 fore breakfast because it would not be 
 fair to expect a lady to face the world un- 
 fed. Breakfast, then, was his first concern 
 and as he walked over to his own apart- 
 ment he tried to think of some restaurant 
 he might take her to where her conspicu- 
 ously foreign costume would not cause
 
 LATER BULLETIN 171 
 
 comment. A diligent search of his memory 
 failed to turn up a recollection of any such 
 a place. Possibly the hall-boy would know. 
 
 He did. Philip sent him up to his apart- 
 ment to tell Molly in German to be ready 
 for breakfast in twenty minutes and that 
 he, Mr. Philip Smith, would come for her 
 after that interval. 
 
 Philip spent the time in reading the 
 morning paper and then with mixed feel- 
 ings took the elevator up to his own floor. 
 What would she look like by daylight? 
 Of course his literary imagination had been 
 playing him tricks and a before-breakfast 
 scrutiny would reveal her as of a coarse, 
 common type, with none of the Dresden 
 china shepherdess qualities with which 
 his fancy had been investing her. Almost 
 with regret he turned the key in his own 
 door. It was too bad to spoil the recollec- 
 tion he had of her with an uninteresting 
 reality.
 
 172 MOLLY AND I 
 
 He opened the door. The air was 
 pleasantly chill as if it had just been let 
 in from outside. There was no one in the 
 room, but a delicious aroma flavored the 
 atmosphere with the unmistakable frag- 
 rance of coffee. The table was covered 
 with a hitherto unused cloth that went 
 with the apartment and the silverware 
 was more or less correctly distributed for 
 the service of one person. In amazement 
 he noted that on the table were sugar and 
 cream. His recollection of the stores in 
 his commissariat included only a lot of 
 cigars and some whiskey. 
 
 "Molly," he called sharply. 
 
 " Ja, Uncle Sam," came pleasantly from 
 the kitchenette, followed shortly by Molly 
 herself, clattering noisily across the floor in 
 her preposterous wooden-soled shoes. 
 
 Clad once more in her own costume and 
 smiling with ingratiating cheerfulness, she 
 aroused in him the pleasant sensation of
 
 LATER BULLETIN 173 
 
 a dream come true. She wasn't so bad 
 after all, even in daylight. Her hair was 
 pretty and she looked clean. 
 
 "Guten Morgen." She dropped him a 
 sort of a curtesy. 
 
 "Good morning, good morning," an- 
 swered Philip absently, still absorbed 
 in contemplation of her. "Now, where 
 did you get the coffee and cream and 
 sugar?" 
 
 She looked at him inquiringly and shook 
 her head. 
 
 "Here." He picked up the cream 
 pitcher, held it out, shook his head and 
 shrugged his shoulders. 
 
 "Ach " She took his hand and led 
 him to the kitchenette. "Komm hier." 
 
 She opened the door of the dumb waiter, 
 made the motion of pulling something up 
 and then of reaching out and taking things 
 from the tiny service elevator. Then she 
 laughed.
 
 174 MOLLY AND I 
 
 "By George! You pinched our neigh- 
 bors' supplies off from the dumb waiter, 
 did you? I suppose you thought that in 
 this country things were free." 
 
 She closed the dumb waiter and made 
 vigorous signs that he should sit down and 
 have breakfast. 
 
 He took his seat with mingled sensa- 
 tions of amusement and satisfaction. It 
 was the first time he had taken a meal in 
 a place he could call his own home since 
 he had lived with his parents. 
 
 First Molly brought in a grape fruit 
 properly prepared. She had evidently 
 seen service in some high-class family 
 abroad. Probably the tenants of the 
 apartments above would have him arrested 
 before lunch but he might as well eat 
 what there was now. 
 
 He discovered on finishing his fruit 
 that Molly had unearthed a small tap 
 bell from somewhere and when he touched
 
 LATER BULLETIN 175 
 
 it she appeared instantly and removed the 
 dishes. 
 
 The remainder of his breakfast, consist- 
 ing of broiled lamb chops, fried potatoes, 
 hot muffins and coffee, was a credit to 
 Molly's skill and his neighbor's shopping 
 ability. Never had Philip enjoyed a meal 
 more or been so attentively and unob- 
 trusively served. 
 
 After breakfast he noticed with pleas- 
 ure that his desk had been dusted, 
 the waste basket emptied and his 
 books straightened up. There was some- 
 thing, after all, in having a woman about 
 the place, especially an efficient and will- 
 ing one. Just as a personal luxury he 
 had half a mind to keep her. It would 
 be comfortable to have everything done 
 for him and to have his meals right at 
 home. 
 
 But pshaw, it was out of the question. 
 He couldn't afford it and she would un-
 
 176 MOLLY AND I 
 
 doubtedly be in the way while he was 
 working. 
 
 From the kitchenette came her voice as 
 she washed the dishes. She sang very 
 softly, evidently merely an accompani- 
 ment to happy thoughts, but Philip dis- 
 covered suddenly that he had never 
 heard any pleasanter music in the world 
 than just a woman singing about her 
 work. He made a memorandum of the 
 fact in a note-book, to use later in one of 
 his stories. 
 
 Having her turn out to be so pleasant 
 and cheerful really made it harder to send 
 her away but it must be done. When the 
 dishes were washed Molly came into the 
 living-room. Now was the time. He must 
 do it quickly and get it over so he could go 
 back to work. 
 
 What was she doing? Oh! She placed 
 the cloth head-dress on her hair and then 
 the shawl across her shoulders. She was
 
 LATER BULLETIN 177 
 
 going without being sent. Probably she 
 had realized that he could not keep a maid 
 and was leaving of her own accord to get 
 a better job. That made it easy. He 
 drew a sigh of relief not unmixed with 
 regret when he thought of that heavenly 
 breakfast. 
 
 She came to his desk and held out her 
 hand. 
 
 Rather unusual sort of a farewell from 
 a servant, thought Philip, but possibly 
 customary in Germany. He shook hands 
 with her. 
 
 "Now, Molly," he lectured wisely, "be 
 very careful in the future about getting 
 wet and not changing your clothes. You 
 seem to be very thoughtless about such 
 matters. I don't think of any other ad- 
 vice I can give you that you would under- 
 stand or remember. Good-bye." He 
 paused. "Good-bye!" he repeated with 
 emphasis.
 
 178 MOLLY AND I 
 
 " Good-bye," she enunciated uncertainly 
 after him. 
 
 He turned back to his work. 
 
 "Uncle Sam." 
 
 He looked up once more. She stood 
 with her hand out as before. 
 
 "Geld." 
 
 "Money? Why, you mercenary little 
 wretch. I suppose you think you are en- 
 titled to pay for getting my breakfast." 
 
 "Ohne Geld kann ich nicht die Speise 
 einkaufen." 
 
 " We won't argue about it. If you think 
 there is anything coming to you I am 
 willing to settle." He drew out his slen- 
 der roll of bills and gave her one of the 
 two-dollar denomination. "All right?" he 
 inquired. 
 
 "All right," she repeated gravely and 
 trotted out of the room. Scorning the 
 elevator she walked downstairs, as he could 
 tell from the "clump, clump" of the
 
 LATER BULLETIN 179 
 
 wooden shoes, that floated back to him 
 long after she had gone. 
 
 Philip laughed as he resumed the liter- 
 ary attitude of being about to work when 
 an idea comes. Two-thirds of authorship 
 consists of lining up in front of a desk 
 persistently. If you stay there long 
 enough you will be forced to write some- 
 thing. 
 
 That morning he accomplished a good 
 deal before Jack Herrick arrived, walking 
 in without knocking, as was his custom. 
 Philip always left the catch off the door 
 during the day. 
 
 "Well," said Jack, depositing his bulk 
 gingerly on one of the straight-backed 
 chairs, "did you get rid of the Dutch K. M. 
 all right?" 
 
 "Yes, she went of her own accord. 
 You ought to see the breakfast she got 
 for me, though, before she left. If the 
 French chef, down in that place where you
 
 180 MOLLY AND I 
 
 think you eat, could have tasted it he 
 would have expired with envy. It would 
 spare the world considerable indigestion 
 if he did." 
 
 "What I came to tell you this morning 
 is that before she left Marian asked us 
 both to come to Boston Friday night for 
 Saturday and Sunday. I guess she hates 
 to have you out of her sight any longer 
 than that. I told her I thought we would 
 come but I forgot to mention it to you 
 last night." 
 
 "Why, let's see " began Philip, won- 
 dering why he did not leap at the 
 invitation. 
 
 "It's nothing to me, you know," Jack 
 filled in the pause. "I'm not press agent 
 for this show. We'd probably have a 
 rotten time, anyway. I always do when I 
 visit anybody. But I told her I'd speak 
 to you and there you are." 
 
 "I'll write to Marian about it," decided
 
 LATER BULLETIN 181 
 
 Philip with a twinge of conscience, as he 
 thought of the letter he had started to 
 compose to her the night before. 
 
 "At any rate, I'll take you to lunch 
 now," Jack invited, "if you'll promise not 
 to speak once of the breakfast you had 
 this morning and compare all other food 
 in the world unfavorably with it." 
 
 "That's a fair bargain." 
 
 Philip was in the act of closing his desk 
 for the morning when the two men were 
 surprised to see the door open gently and 
 a small figure entirely surrounded by 
 bundles enter the room and pass a trifle 
 noisily to the kitchenette. 
 
 Jack stood open-mouthed. 
 
 "I thought you fired her." 
 
 "I thought I had," Philip assured him. 
 
 Molly returned after having deposited 
 her bundles in the kitchenette and gravely 
 offered Philip a dollar bill and twenty-four 
 cents in change which he accepted in
 
 182 MOLLY AND I 
 
 dazed wonder. As if it were a matter of 
 course she spread the cloth on the table 
 once more and drew up two chairs. 
 
 "I regret," stated Philip politely, watch- 
 ing this manoeuvre, "that I must decline 
 your invitation to lunch, Jack, but as a 
 sort of earnest of my good will I invite 
 you to share my humble fare instead. I 
 don't know what it is going to be but it is 
 more than you deserve." 
 
 "You aren't going to keep her?" 
 
 "I don't seem to have any choice in the 
 matter. At any rate I'm not going to fire 
 her again before lunch." 
 
 "By George, that does smell like actual 
 coffee," Jack ejaculated, sniffing the air. 
 "I guess I'll stay and eat with you." 
 
 In the intervals between the cheerful 
 rattle of pots and pans in the kitchen 
 Molly appeared to set the table. She was 
 wearing one of her purchases, a diminutive 
 white apron trimmed with a quality of
 
 LATER BULLETIN 183 
 
 lace that never came out of the five and 
 ten cent stores. Another purchase made 
 its appearance on the table in a tiny glass 
 vase, two cream-colored roses, slightly 
 pink at the curly edges of the petals. They 
 made the place a home instead of simply a 
 place to live. 
 
 The eye of the artist lighted up with 
 pleasure. "I'll tell you, Phil," he pro- 
 posed, "if you can't afford to keep this 
 girl, I'll hire her. Any servant who would 
 think of getting roses for the table can 
 darn my socks whether they need it or 
 not." 
 
 "You know, don't you," began Philip, 
 resentfully, "that maid-servants aren't 
 supposed to darn socks?" 
 
 "No, I don't, but I'm willing to pay for 
 whatever she can do. Tell her so for me, 
 will you?" 
 
 "Not until after lunch. I don't want 
 to spoil the girl's appetite."
 
 184 MOLLY AND I 
 
 "You want to get rid of her don't 
 
 you?" 
 
 "Ye-es," assented Philip doubtfully, 
 wishing that she had not come back at all 
 to torment his mind and digestion. 
 
 "Well, then, send her to me. I'll see 
 that she has good care." 
 
 " Oh, you will ? I suppose you'll give her 
 a saucer of milk and a nice basket to sleep 
 in near the stove?" 
 
 Further discussion was cut short by 
 the appearance of Molly who announced, 
 "Das zweite Fruhstiick ist fertig." 
 
 Jack frankly expressed his joy in the 
 abilities of Molly as a cook. He was 
 beginning to see himself sitting down 
 to an endless succession of perfect meals, 
 served by a quaint, little, pink and white 
 doll with wooden-soled shoes. Philip, 
 who was attempting to contemplate her 
 in the past tense, was correspondingly 
 depressed.
 
 LATER BULLETIN 185 
 
 "Cheer up, Phil." Jack allowed him- 
 self to be helped a second time to omelette 
 a petit pois. "You can drop in at my 
 place any time. There will always be a 
 place set for you." 
 
 "Thanks and go to hell," murmured 
 Philip pleasantly. 
 
 "You know you can't afford to pay for 
 meals like this. Come own up now, 
 how much did she spend for supplies?" 
 
 "Seventy-six cents." 
 
 "Including the roses? Don't make me 
 laugh. You couldn't do it in Medicine 
 Hat, North Dakota, let alone New York." 
 
 "You saw the change she gave me. I 
 gave her two dollars." In his heart Philip 
 had not the confidence that his words 
 conveyed. He was remembering with 
 dismay Molly's medieval methods of 
 securing rations that morning. He was 
 wondering if she would have time to get 
 away before the police came. Perhaps
 
 186 MOLLY AND I 
 
 she would be safe in Jack's apartment. 
 Later he could explain to his friend her 
 primitive notions of foraging. 
 
 "I think I'll take her over with me now." 
 Jack decided, after luncheon was over. 
 "Then she can sort of get used to things 
 before dinner." 
 
 "All right." Philip sighed. "Molly" 
 
 She came to him trustfully. 
 
 " Ja, Uncle Sam." 
 
 His heart smote him but he went on. 
 
 "Molly, you are to work for this gentle- 
 man. I cannot pay you but he can. 
 Listen gehe mit." He pointed to Jack. 
 " Arbeiten." He made motions as if wash- 
 ing dishes. "Geld." He placed her hand 
 in Jack's. 
 
 She shook hands gravely and said color- 
 lessly, "Good-bye." 
 
 "What?" exclaimed Jack. 
 
 "I taught her that this morning," 
 Philip hastened to explain, "when I sent
 
 LATER BULLETIN 187 
 
 her away. She doesn't know what she is 
 saying." 
 
 "Oh!" 
 
 Jack, still holding her by the hand, 
 started across the room. She followed 
 docilely enough until he opened the door, 
 then suddenly she pulled back and burst 
 into a torrent of German. 
 
 "What's it all about?" Jack was start- 
 led by the outburst. 
 
 "She wants her shawl and cap." Philip 
 interpreted, getting those articles for her. 
 
 "Nein, nein," she wailed. "Nur hier 
 soil ich arbeiten." 
 
 "Now she's ready," said Philip. 
 
 "All right, good-bye." 
 
 Jack started to lead her across the 
 threshold, then all at once dropped her 
 hand with a yell of pain. 
 
 Molly scurried like a frightened hen 
 across the living-room to the dark recess 
 of the kitchenette. Philip followed her
 
 188 MOLLY AND I 
 
 there. She fled to a corner. He stood 
 over her. She dropped on her knees and 
 took his hand, looking up into his eyes 
 with tearfully desperate earnestness. 
 "Choo, choo, choo, Uncle Sam I 
 love you, nicht good-bye," she repeated 
 pleadingly. 
 
 Philip went out to where Jack was nurs- 
 ing his right shin carefully. 
 
 "Come on," Philip invited, leading the 
 way out. "I'm going to see if I can get 
 a room in the servants' quarters in this 
 building. Molly has decided to stay." 
 
 "That's what I thought," growled his 
 friend. Then as they stood waiting for 
 the elevator Jack produced a five-dollar 
 bill which he handed to Philip. 
 
 "What's this for?" 
 
 "For shoes for Molly," said Jack, then 
 added ruefully, "without wooden soles."
 
 CHAPTER XIII 
 
 THE APARTMENT IS DISCOVERED TO BE 
 LARGE ENOUGH FOR TWO 
 
 was how Molly became a part of 
 the machinery of Philip Smith's house- 
 hold. He told her that he would soon find 
 a good position for her and return to his 
 original scheme of life. This was at first. 
 After she had been there a few days he 
 shamelessly admitted that she was a fix- 
 ture and he made a permanent arrange- 
 ment for sleeping quarters for her in the 
 same building. 
 
 He found that he felt toward her as no 
 human being has a right to regard another 
 unless he is the Czar of Russia. His was 
 a benevolent despotism which partook a 
 little of the kindly authority of parent-
 
 190 MOLLY AND I 
 
 hood. She was so guileless and ignorant 
 of American things that he felt that he 
 stood between her and destruction. Then, 
 too, he was educating her. Every day he 
 taught her a few words which she picked 
 up with surprising rapidity and it was not 
 long before she was able to understand 
 simple sentences, although she was not 
 very sure of English constructions and 
 idiom when it came to speaking herself. 
 
 She had a marvelous shopping instinct. 
 Money in her hands bought such surpris- 
 ing quantities and qualities that Philip 
 was inclined to be suspicious but as the 
 days went by and she did not get arrested 
 he ceased to think about it. 
 
 He had given her the five-dollar bill 
 which Jack had contributed toward her 
 wardrobe and instructed her to get sub- 
 stitutes for the heavy shoes. She managed 
 in addition, to secure a trim, black dress 
 which did not detract in the least from her
 
 LARGE ENOUGH FOR TWO 191 
 
 appearance, so that as far as externals 
 were concerned she passed easily as a 
 regular maid of all work. Philip almost 
 regretted the quickness with which she 
 had become Americanized. 
 
 In Molly's education Jack had also been 
 a considerable, although not necessarily a 
 helpful, factor. He had promptly forgiven 
 her for kicking him on the shins and she 
 had apologized in German with downcast 
 eyes the very next day. Jack had proved 
 his good will by staying to dinner and 
 afterwards .insisting on helping with the 
 dishes while he taught her a collection of 
 perfectly useless words such as "parabola," 
 "isosceles" and "osteopath." He gave 
 her the impression that they were highly 
 potent swear words. 
 
 All day Friday of that week Philip 
 suffered from an acute sense of something 
 he had to do. About noon he discovered 
 what it was.
 
 192 MOLLY AND I 
 
 Jack called up. 
 
 "Are we going to Boston?" he inquired 
 over the telephone. 
 
 "Great Scott!" Philip ejaculated. 
 " That's what I've been trying to think of." 
 
 "Well, don't break the machinery with 
 undue haste but shall I get tickets?" 
 
 "Why - - let's see," Philip deliberated, 
 "I don't believe I can go." 
 
 "Why not?" 
 
 "Working on a story." 
 
 "Rats. You finished that yarn last 
 night. You've struck a place in your novel 
 where you can't go any further for a while. 
 You told me so yourself. What you need 
 is to get away." 
 
 "No, honestly I can't do it." Then he 
 added, speaking his thoughts absently, 
 "I'm afraid Molly wouldn't know what to 
 do without me." 
 
 "Conceited ass," came sweetly over the 
 instrument. "If that is what's worrying
 
 LARGE ENOUGH FOR TWO 193 
 
 you I'll sacrifice myself. I'll stay home 
 and eat Molly's cooking. Marian doesn't 
 care whether I come or not, anyway." 
 
 "No, I couldn't go now. I'll tell you: 
 you wire Marian we are detained on 
 business and that we'll both come next 
 Thursday and stay as long as she 
 likes." 
 
 "Why do I send this wire? Why do I 
 stand here in this stuffy, drug-store booth, 
 while you sit quietly in your own flat, 
 listening to the preparations for lunch? 
 Why do you have all the luck? Why is it 
 that" 
 
 Philip hung up the receiver and laughed 
 silently at his mental picture of Jack ask- 
 ing himself questions until Central re- 
 quested him to drop another nickel. 
 
 That afternoon Philip sent off his latest 
 story to the friendly editor who had 
 bought some of his other work. This new 
 one he felt was much better, more real,
 
 194 MOLLY AND I 
 
 somehow, than his former efforts and he 
 was eager to receive the praise of the 
 magazine man. 
 
 On his way home Philip bought a first 
 reader and a German dictionary. The 
 English language might as well be at- 
 tacked along conventional lines. 
 
 Molly was delighted with the reader and 
 for some reason laughed herself almost 
 into hysterics when she first looked at the 
 pictures. Philip failed to see where the 
 comedy came in but he flattered himself 
 that his sense of humor was too highly 
 cultivated to be amused at the same 
 things that convulsed a German peasant 
 girl. 
 
 They had some difficulty over the first 
 lesson because Molly thought the picture 
 of the cat inaccurate and insisted on draw- 
 ing it over again with a curly tail. When 
 she had the illustration corrected to her 
 satisfaction, however, she proved a docile
 
 LARGE ENOUGH FOR TWO 195 
 
 pupil and by nightfall could read, "See 
 the cat," clear across the room. 
 
 The reading lesson became part of 
 Philip's general daily programme. The 
 rest of his time was devoted to serious 
 literary labors on his novel which strangely 
 enough commenced to write itself, even at 
 inconvenient hours of the night, when 
 Philip personally would have preferred to 
 sleep. Molly interfered not at all. Ex- 
 cept at meal times or when he gave her a 
 reading lesson, she kept to her own room 
 in the servants' quarters or went shopping 
 for bargains. 
 
 Suddenly it became "next week Thurs- 
 day" long before Philip expected it and 
 he had to go to Boston, reluctantly re- 
 linquishing the novel and Molly's educa- 
 tion. He rebelled strenuously at the idea 
 of leaving Molly alone in the city but as 
 Jack pointed out she really was old enough 
 to take care of herself.
 
 196 MOLLY AND I 
 
 Before he left, however, he gave Molly 
 explicit directions in words he had taught 
 her himself what to do while he was away. 
 He invented strange and unnecessary 
 tasks of cleaning and polishing to take up 
 her time and keep her from the tempta- 
 tions of the street. Further he commanded 
 her to write a letter to him every day to 
 let him know how she was getting along. 
 This he calculated, judging from her 
 habit of handling a pen as if it were a 
 clothes-pole would use up a lot of time and 
 would also serve to a certain extent in 
 lieu of her English lesson.
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 
 AN ADDITION TO THE FAMILY 
 
 TV/TOLLY'S first letter came to him in 
 Boston on Saturday. It was written 
 on his own stationery and consisted of 
 equal parts of scrawly words, spluttery 
 blots and blistered areas which Philip with 
 a twinge of conscience put down to tear- 
 stains called forth by the unaccustomed 
 literary task. It read: 
 
 Mein lieber Unkel Sam: 
 
 I wurk today. The kat will catch the rat. 
 I etc tafy. The boy down stares gif me him. 
 I like him. He is like suger. 
 
 Your resp, 
 Moly. 
 
 Criticized according to the standards of 
 English maintained at Harvard it didn't
 
 198 MOLLY AND I 
 
 amount to much but as the composition of 
 a scholar of only two weeks' standing it 
 ranked very high. Philip showed the 
 letter to Jack with a pride that made no 
 pretense at being restrained. 
 
 "Humph," sniffed Jack, holding it 
 gingerly by one corner, "it looks as if she 
 used her finger for a pen, doesn't it? 
 Where did she get that 'Your r-e-s-p?' 
 That doesn't sound like Molly, especially 
 the abbreviation." He turned the sheet 
 of paper over. "Oh!" he murmured. 
 
 "Oh, what?" Philip demanded. 
 
 Jack handed back the note, face 
 down. 
 
 On the back Philip read : 
 
 P.S. The hal boy rote this for me. His 
 name is Louie. 
 
 "The little devil!" Philip ejaculated. 
 "And I was feeling sorry for her ink- 
 stained fingers."
 
 ADDITION TO THE FAMILY 199 
 
 Neither of the men had mentioned 
 Molly to Marian. Philip had discovered 
 on attempting to marshal the account of 
 her adventures into words that it was a 
 hard story to tell to a woman and Jack 
 followed his lead without comment. 
 
 Marian had been unaffectedly glad to 
 see them both and every effort was made 
 by the members of the large and clannish 
 family to give them a good tune. Judged 
 from the standpoint of an outsider, Marian 
 was more popular with her relatives 
 than she admitted. She seemed in fact 
 a brilliant, adored idol, frankly admired 
 by the rest of the family, who were too 
 busy to cultivate external beauty in them- 
 selves. 
 
 Philip owned to feeling vaguely dis- 
 appointed in Marian herself. Surrounded 
 by big brothers and sisters and nephews 
 and nieces she was somehow less interest- 
 ing than when he had regarded her as a
 
 200 MOLLY AND I 
 
 single, rare, exotic flower with no apparent 
 logical connection with the commonplace 
 flora and fauna round about. Alone with 
 her, he had felt that he understood her 
 perfectly; now between him and her there 
 stood the "family" wall, which in the 
 home camp makes even the most intimate 
 friends seem foreigners. 
 
 On Sunday, Philip had suggested going 
 home but was overruled by a storm of pro- 
 tests and Marian's reminder that he had 
 promised to stay as long as she wished 
 him to. 
 
 Monday brought a second letter from 
 Molly. 
 
 Mein lieber Unkel Sam: 
 
 Louie lern me lots nu wurds. I like him. 
 I mus cloz and go muving pitchers mit Louie. 
 
 Yours resp, 
 
 Moly. 
 
 Philip packed his grip before he an- 
 nounced at luncheon that he must catch
 
 ADDITION TO THE FAMILY 201 
 
 an afternoon train to New York. This 
 time Marian made no appeal save a look 
 of reproach. 
 
 "I have to keep working on my novel or 
 I'll lose the thread of it," he lied, with a 
 voice that trembled from lack of familiar- 
 ity with untruth. 
 
 Jack laughed and then covered his con- 
 fusion with a clumsy pretense of choking 
 on an oyster. 
 
 On the train that afternoon Philip told 
 Jack of his fears. 
 
 "She ought not to go places with that 
 hall-boy. We don't know who he is." 
 
 "We don't know who Molly is, as far 
 as that is concerned," Jack returned. 
 "You can't expect her never to have any 
 more pleasure in life, just because she works 
 for you. Merely regarding your counte- 
 nance every day doesn't take the place of 
 all amusement, you know. As long as she 
 can cook a steak the way she does, what
 
 202 MOLLY AND I 
 
 do you care how she spends her time out- 
 side of work hours?" 
 
 "I feel responsible for her." 
 
 Jack sniffed and refused to discuss it 
 further. 
 
 When he came into the apartment 
 building that evening Philip was pleas- 
 antly greeted by the hall-boy who failed 
 to understand why Mr. Smith's response 
 was so gruff. 
 
 Still wearing an air of displeasure with 
 the world in general he let himself into 
 his apartment. He was determined to be 
 cross no matter what happened. 
 
 At the sound of the door closing with a 
 slam Molly came out of the kitchenette, 
 her face wreathed in smiles. 
 
 "Ach, mein Uncle Sam, Sie sind zuriick 
 heimgekommen. I bin glad." 
 
 She helped him off with his overcoat 
 and put that and his hat away. He did 
 not speak to her.
 
 ADDITION TO THE FAMILY 203 
 
 "I get etwas to eat, ja?" 
 
 '' Yes. Is there anything in the house? " 
 
 " Ja. I thinked you come to-day." 
 
 "What? You thought I'd come home 
 to-day? What made you think that? " 
 
 Molly smiled to herself and replied with 
 a long German sentence which Philip did 
 not understand. 
 
 He growled and turned automatically to 
 his desk to examine the mail. There was a 
 letter from his friend the editor returning 
 his story. He regretted, the letter ran, 
 that it was out of the line of stuff they were 
 using in his magazine and advised him to 
 stick to the more popular style of slapdash 
 fiction until he could command a market 
 with the purely literary magazines. 
 
 This was qfstinctly depressing and took 
 the edge off from the role he was playing. 
 It is poor comfort to be told your output 
 is so good you can't sell it. The world 
 was presenting to him a very cold shoulder.
 
 204 MOLLY AND I 
 
 Incidentally he had depended on the sale 
 of that manuscript for living expenses. He 
 would have to practice rigid economy until 
 he could write a potboiler of some kind. 
 
 He was occupied earnestly with the 
 problem of maintaining existence when 
 Molly announced dinner, and he absent- 
 mindedly consumed almost all of an ex- 
 cellent puree before he noticed anything 
 different about the table. 
 
 "It seems to me," he commented, "that 
 the silver looks brighter than it ever did 
 before. You didn't buy new silverware, 
 did you, Molly?" 
 
 "Nein," she replied. "I shine him ein 
 wenig, that's all." 
 
 "Oh!" Philip picked up a spoon and 
 examined the back of it. "Did you put 
 the 'Sterling' mark on it too?" 
 
 "I weiss nicht what you say, * Sterling 
 mark.'" 
 
 "No, of course not. It's funny, though,
 
 ADDITION TO THE FAMILY 205. 
 
 that an apartment building like this should 
 furnish solid silver tableware." 
 
 Everything about the apartment wore 
 a virtuous air of soap and water. The 
 somewhat shabby window curtains had 
 been replaced with soft, rather bright- 
 colored ones of some cheap material. 
 Philip inquired about them. 
 
 "Louie, he take me always to dinner," 
 Molly explained. "I buy things mit what 
 you give me for eating." 
 
 Philip found it impossible to be as cross 
 as he wished at the thought of Molly 
 going out with Louie to save money for 
 household improvements. He compro- 
 mised with his temper by saying nothing. 
 Molly seemed disappointed. 
 
 After dinner she brought a rather bulky 
 package and laid it on the table before him. 
 
 "What's that?" he demanded. 
 
 "Surprise," she ejaculated. 
 
 "Undoubtedly."
 
 .206 MOLLY AND I 
 
 "I learn me that word by Louie." 
 
 Philip untied the parcel and removed 
 the wrappings. Contained therein was a 
 magnificently .ornamental clock so bril- 
 liantly gilded that it hurt the eyes to look 
 at it. Philip was stunned. There was a 
 card attached to it. 
 
 He read, "Klok frum Moly." 
 
 Molly clapped her hands. 
 
 "Did you buy this?" he demanded. 
 
 "Der Spetzereinhandler give me him 
 for trading stamps," she explained glee- 
 fully, then contemplating their acquisition 
 critically, she added, "It ticks loud." 
 
 "That is very essential to a good 
 clock." Philip was forced to unbend be- 
 fore her delight in making him a present. 
 "You shall wind it, Molly, and no one else 
 shall ever touch it. This little clock's 
 life will depend entirely upon you. If 
 you let it run down, no one else will ever 
 start it again."
 
 ADDITION TO THE FAMILY 207 
 
 The ceremony of winding the machinery 
 and setting the hands over, Philip placed 
 the golden horror on the mantelpiece. 
 They contemplated it in an admiring si- 
 lence broken only by the cheerfully noisy 
 "tick-tock" of the new member of the 
 family. 
 
 "She clucks like a hen," Molly com- 
 mented. 
 
 "Thank you ever so much, Molly, for 
 the clock. It is just what we needed and 
 it certainly ticks beautifully. I don't 
 think I have ever been so pleased with a 
 present in my life." 
 
 " It costs not much," Molly apologized, 
 diffidently. 
 
 "That is one of the charming things 
 about poverty, Molly. People who have 
 lots of money can't appreciate little things 
 the way we can. I 'know because once I 
 had money." 
 
 "I sorry, you lose him."
 
 208 MOLLY AND I 
 
 "I'm not," Philip patted her arm 
 gently, "because if I hadn't lost my money 
 I wouldn't have found you." 
 
 "But you not find me, I find you." 
 
 "Have it your own way. It isn't 
 customary, however, for a woman to in- 
 sist on the literal translation of a near- 
 proposal. If you prefer to consider your- 
 self Columbus I will take the minor role 
 of the boiled egg or whatever it was he 
 discovered." 
 
 Molly dwelt upon his speech mystified. 
 "You use such big words 
 das ich nicht verstehen." 
 
 "That," returned Philip airily, "is why 
 I employed the polysyllables. With the 
 aid of a dictionary I could say almost any- 
 thing to you without any danger of a suit 
 for breach of promise, you adorable minx." 
 
 Molly went back to her work, humming 
 softly to herself, and Philip reluctantly 
 allowed a feeling of happiness and content-
 
 ADDITION TO THE FAMILY 209 
 
 ment to banish his grouch. After all she 
 had been thinking of his comfort while he 
 had been away and she couldn't have had 
 time for much mischief with the amount 
 of cleaning she had done. A man couldn't 
 help being agreeable while he listened to 
 that voice and that little haunting melody 
 she seemed always to be singing. He had 
 a remembrance of having heard the music 
 before but couldn't fit words to it. No 
 matter, it was probably a German folk 
 song. 
 
 He sat rocking his mind in a cradle of 
 pleasant thoughts long after Molly had 
 gone for the night. For the first time in 
 his life, without knowing just why, he 
 found that he was contented, that despite 
 the fact that he was not sure how to pay 
 for next week's groceries there was really 
 nothing he wanted that he did not have.
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 
 TWO LADIES DISCOVER THE EXISTENCE OF 
 EACH OTHER 
 
 TT was a month before Marian returned 
 
 and in celebration Philip gave a dinner 
 for her in the apartment. Jack was, of 
 course, included in the party. 
 
 Both men met her at the railroad station. 
 
 Marian was slightly mystified when they 
 spoke of eating at Philip's flat but supposed 
 that they intended having dinner brought 
 up from the cafe and made no comment. 
 
 When, however, they were seated at a 
 faultlessly appointed table and Molly 
 came in from the kitchenette with the 
 soup, Marian opened her eyes wide with 
 astonishment. Not a detail of Molly's 
 features or clothing escaped her scrutiny.
 
 TWO LADIES 211 
 
 "Explain," she requested smiling, when 
 Molly had finished serving and gone away 
 again. "Does she come from the res- 
 taurant downstairs or did you have a 
 catering company send in a meal with her 
 to serve it?" 
 
 "Molly?" Philip returned, with pon- 
 derous carelessness. "She's just my maid 
 of all work." 
 
 "Maid? Do you mean she is here all 
 the time and gets all your meals?" 
 
 " Why, yes. What do you think of her?" 
 
 "I think she is too pretty altogether," 
 Marian laughed, with a confidence bred of 
 a knowledge of her own good looks. "That 
 is, she is too pretty for you. Let me have 
 her. I'll trade you a nice, great, big, black 
 one for your tiny, little, pink one." 
 
 "It won't work," Jack declared. "I 
 tried to steal her away from him but all I 
 got for my trouble was a kick in the shins." 
 
 Marian laughed aloud.
 
 MOLLY AND I 
 
 "I can't imagine Phil kicking you in the 
 shins," she exclaimed. 
 
 Jack glanced carelessly at Philip, the 
 latter winked imperceptibly and they both 
 joined in Marian's laughter. 
 
 If the guest had made a careful inven- 
 tory of the servant's appearance there was 
 no lack of shrewdness in the appraising 
 look with which the servant honored the 
 guest when next she entered the dining- 
 room. Her feminine eye dwelt lovingly on 
 the perfect fit of Marian's gown and paid 
 tribute to the simple but effective coiffure 
 created from the wealth of Marian's hair. 
 
 Jack, who sat across the table from 
 Marian, caught Molly's eye as she was 
 standing behind the guest's chair, balanc- 
 ing a bowl of gravy in her hand. Molly 
 blushed at being discovered in envious 
 contemplation of the other woman. She 
 looked inquiringly at Jack and made a 
 motion as if to tip the contents of the
 
 TWO LADIES 213 
 
 gravy bowl over Marian's head. Jack, 
 with horror-stricken eyes, shook his head 
 vehemently. 
 
 "What on earth is the matter, St. 
 Vitus?" Marian saw his apparently mean- 
 ingless motions. 
 
 "He's flirting with Molly/ 5 Philip ex- 
 plained. "He has spoiled her so already 
 that I'll have to fire her about next week 
 if she doesn't reform." 
 
 "It seems to me that you discuss her 
 rather freely when she is present." Ma- 
 rian administered the reproof smilingly. 
 
 "She doesn't understand what we say," 
 Jack assured her. "Her residence in this 
 country has been of but six weeks' dura- 
 tion, so she knows only a few English words. 
 When Phil really wants to make her un- 
 derstand anything he tells it to her in 
 German." 
 
 Molly coughed suddenly and left the 
 room in a fit of choking.
 
 214 MOLLY AND I 
 
 The conversation shifted to other topics. 
 They were quite the light-hearted trio 
 they had always been. Marian devoted 
 most of her attention and all of her wiles 
 to Philip, but Jack took that as a matter 
 of course and interjected remarks into the 
 dialogue only when it seemed a social duty. 
 
 After the dinner he lounged out in the 
 kitchenette, ostensibly helping Molly with 
 the dishes and teaching her English. 
 
 Molly did not respond to his gaiety as 
 buoyantly as usual. 
 
 "What's the matter, youngster?" Jack 
 demanded, polishing a glass. 
 
 "Matter?" she repeated. 
 
 "Yes. Why so dismal? No smile?" 
 
 "Oh, I not know." 
 
 "Don't you like Mrs. Sutherland?" 
 
 "She much pretty, ja." Molly made a 
 gesture indicating the woman in the next 
 room. 
 
 "Exactly."
 
 TWO LADIES 215 
 
 "Why you not marry with her?" 
 
 "Me? There are lots of reasons. For 
 one thing she hasn't asked me to." 
 
 "Did she ask Uncle Sam?" 
 
 "I don't know. How would you like 
 that? Then maybe they'd have a nice 
 big flat for you to work in and later you 
 could be nursemaid and take care of their 
 babies." 
 
 "No, no." Molly stamped her foot. 
 
 Jack looked at her in surprise. 
 
 Molly suddenly picked up the glass 
 Jack had been wiping, held it to the light 
 and pointed out several specks of lint on 
 its polished surface. 
 
 "All right, I'll do it over but you needn't 
 bite off my ears just for that." 
 
 Philip called from the other room, 
 "Molly." 
 
 She hastily substituted a service apron 
 for the checkered one she was using to wash 
 dishes in and entered the living-room.
 
 216 MOLLY AND I 
 
 Marian, stretched at indolent length in 
 the Morris chair, was smoking a cigarette. 
 
 "Bring an ash tray for Mrs. Suther- 
 land," Philip directed. 
 
 Molly did so. Then she found Philip's 
 box of cigars, allowed him to select one, 
 and offered the box to Marian. 
 
 Marian laughed. "No, thank you." 
 
 The two women looked at each other 
 squarely. Finally Marian took a puff at 
 her cigarette, inhaled the smoke and blew 
 it out languidly. Molly blushed. 
 
 "You may go, Molly," Philip interjected, 
 nervously. "That is all I wanted." 
 
 A light flashed in Molly's eyes, immedi- 
 ately extinguished by a look of soft sub- 
 mission as she turned to Philip. 
 
 "Uncle Sam," she started, and then 
 stopped. 
 
 "Yes, Molly, what is it?" 
 
 "Is she," Molly nodded toward Marian, 
 "is she 'adorable minx' too?"
 
 TWO LADIES 217 
 
 In the hot silence that fell Molly scurried 
 to the kitchenette, unanswered. 
 
 For a while the dishwasher worked in 
 silence. Finally she broke her reverie. 
 
 "You take her home to-night, yes?" 
 
 "You bet," Jack replied. "Why?" 
 
 "I just ask to know." Molly sighed 
 with relief. 
 
 Late that night, while Marian, Jack and 
 Philip smoked and lounged and discussed 
 art, literature and themselves, a tiny figure 
 in a narrow bed in a box-like room down 
 in the servants' quarters tossed and 
 squirmed, buried its face in the pillow, 
 turned the pillow over, doubled it up and 
 finally threw it out on the floor. After an 
 hour or so the owner of that restless body 
 got up and turned on the light. 
 
 With feverish haste she dressed her hair 
 in a fair imitation of the way Marian wore 
 hers. Then she threw back her nightdress 
 from her slender young shoulders and
 
 218 MOLLY AND I 
 
 draped it in an impromptu decollete. 
 This done she confronted herself tragically 
 in the small mirror over her washstand 
 and subjected her face and figure to a piti- 
 less scrutiny. 
 
 At length a smile broke over her features, 
 the reflection smiled back at her, then she 
 laughed, turned out the light and went 
 back to bed. 
 
 This time she slept.
 
 CHAPTER XVI 
 
 THE COST OF LIVING 
 
 days rolled on, each of the good 
 ones being marked with the completion 
 of a chapter of the novel, the bad ones with 
 restless pacing of the floor and irritable 
 depression. Molly had the run of the house- 
 hold so completely organized and knew 
 Philip's moods so well, that she managed 
 to help a great deal by serving meals at 
 unobtrusive intervals and keeping care- 
 fully in the background at other times. 
 In fact she spoiled him so thoroughly that 
 he often doubted whether he would ever 
 be able to work under ordinary conditions 
 again without her to serve as a buffer be- 
 tween him and the annoyance of physical 
 existence.
 
 220 MOLLY AND I 
 
 He had given her what money he had 
 but it wasn't much and one morning be- 
 fore settling down to his work he held a 
 session of the finance committee. 
 
 "How much money have we got, 
 Molly?" 
 
 Molly was clearing the breakfast dishes 
 from the table but she abandoned her task. 
 
 "Wait until in the book I look him up." 
 
 She went to a drawer in the sideboard 
 and brought out a large ledger which she 
 opened on the table and pored over 
 industriously. 
 
 "How much is seventeen dollars when 
 you take it away nineteen dollars and 
 seventy-five cents?" she asked at last. 
 
 "Is that the way our books balance?" 
 
 "Ja. Yes." 
 
 "Bring it here." 
 
 She carried the ledger to Philip's desk 
 and pointed to the place with her finger. 
 
 "Here comes it in and here goes it out."
 
 THE COST OF LIVING 221 
 
 "Oh yes. What is this? Three dollars 
 for c-h-o-o-s?" 
 
 "He is for me. Choos choos 
 choos " Molly pointed at her feet. 
 "Herr Herrick give us the money. 
 Shouldn't I have done that?" 
 
 "Of course you should. How much 
 money have we got?" 
 
 "Wait." Molly went to one corner of 
 the rug, lifted it and picked up some coins 
 from beneath it. "How much is one 
 quarter, one dime, one nickel and one cent? 
 I keep one, each kind, for a set." She held 
 the money out in the palm of her hand. 
 
 " I see, so that when we haven't any 
 more we can still know what money looks 
 like. You have forty-one cents according 
 to my figures and we owe two dollars and 
 seventy -five cents besides your wages for 
 some weeks past. I think maybe we had 
 better economize until I can sell something. 
 Suppose we cut out the eggs for breakfast."
 
 222 MOLLY AND I 
 
 "Then only is left coffee and toast." 
 
 "That's enough. I've been eating too 
 much lately. I'll look like Jack Herrick 
 if you don't look out. I guess," he con- 
 cluded regretfully, "I will have to aban- 
 don the great American novel for a 
 day or so and write something with a 
 couple of murders and a burglary in it. 
 Crime may not be profitable to criminals 
 but it certainly does pay us authors and 
 playwrights." 
 
 The next morning he was a living testi- 
 mony to his industry. The breakfast table 
 found him haggard and limp from an all- 
 night session with heroic crooks and 
 virtuous burglarines. 
 
 True to his instructions, Molly served 
 him a breakfast consisting solely of toast 
 and coffee. 
 
 "Bring me the morning mail, Molly," 
 he directed. "I'm sorry I kept you wait- 
 ing but I worked late last night and over-
 
 THE COST OF LIVING 223 
 
 slept this morning. Did anyone call while 
 I was asleep?" 
 
 "Only that lady" 
 
 "Mrs. Sutherland?" 
 
 "Ja." 
 
 " Sorry I missed her. Did she leave any 
 message?" 
 
 "No. You like her very much?" 
 
 "Oh, yes. I think she is very inter- 
 esting. Don't you like her? " 
 
 "I like her better, I think maybe, if 
 you don't." 
 
 "Jealous?" 
 
 "What's jealous, Uncle Sam?" 
 
 "It's something you put on bread and 
 butter when you're a kid. Hello, what's 
 this? " Philip ceased talking as he opened 
 an envelope from which a check fell out. 
 
 There was a brief note accompanying 
 the check written on the stationery of a 
 downtown firm of lawyers. 
 
 It read:
 
 224 MOLLY AND I 
 
 Dear Sir: 
 
 Your wife wishes to make you an allowance 
 and we enclose her check for one hundred 
 dollars on account. 
 
 Yours respectfully, 
 
 Strong and McCloskey. 
 
 "Molly, come here," Philip explained. 
 "Look at this because you will never see 
 so much money again in all your life. It's 
 a check for one hundred dollars. See, 
 here's the signature, 'Mary Smith,' and 
 she's worth more thousands of dollars than 
 you have cents hidden away under the 
 rug. Look at her writing, Molly. It isn't 
 so very much better than yours but when 
 she puts her name on a paper like that 
 every man in the world would fight for it 
 while if you wrote your name there I 
 don't suppose anybody, would give a hang 
 for it except me." 
 
 Molly looked at his face and then at the 
 check.
 
 THE COST OF LIVING 225 
 
 "Then we are rich?" 
 
 Philip laughed. 
 
 "Not noticeably so. This money 
 doesn't belong to us. A very kind lady 
 sent it to us to look at, but I'm pretty sure 
 she knew we would send it back." He 
 got up and went to his desk. 
 
 Molly started to clear off the table. 
 
 "Maybe she wants to see if we would," 
 she said, thoughtfully. "Do not you love 
 Mary Smith?" Molly halted over the 
 name. 
 
 "Bless you no. She's my wife. It isn't 
 stylish to love your own wife, not in 
 New York, anyway." 
 
 "You like Mrs. Sutherland better?" 
 
 "Of course. Now you stop prying into 
 my private affairs and I'll help you with 
 the dishes." 
 
 Philip placed the check in an envelope 
 which he addressed to "Mrs. Philip Smith, 
 care of Dr. Allen."
 
 "I do dishes all right myself. What 
 you pay me for, I ask?" 
 
 "But I don't pay you, so it's no more 
 than fair that I should help. Get me an 
 apron." 
 
 Molly obediently found a plaid kitchen 
 apron and tied it around him under the 
 arms. This left a good deal of Philip 
 exposed at either end and gave him slightly 
 the appearance of a premier danseuse, 
 all but the pink tights. He did a couple 
 of grotesque steps with a plate in his hand 
 like a tambourine. 
 
 Molly laughed. "It's fun playing house, 
 yes, Uncle Sam?" 
 
 A rap on the door interrupted his 
 dancing. 
 
 Molly admitted the hall-boy from down- 
 stairs. 
 
 "How do you do, Louie?" greeted 
 Philip. "Come in." 
 
 "Thank you, sir."
 
 THE COST OF LIVING 227 
 
 "Nice day, isn't it?" 
 
 "Yes, sir." 
 
 Molly finished clearing off the table and 
 put a figured scarf on it in place of the 
 table cloth. 
 
 "Have a chair, Louie," said Philip, 
 determined to be a pleasant host. 
 
 "No, thanks. I can't stay but a 
 minute." 
 
 "Ah, I see. You came on business." 
 
 "Yes, sir. It's about the rent. The 
 agent was around this morning before you 
 was up. He asked me to get the money 
 from you. He says you're a month behind 
 and he has to have the com." Louie was 
 visibly embarrassed by his role of collec- 
 tor. is You see, sir, he don't know you very 
 well." 
 
 "No, that's true," admitted Philip, 
 "but that isn't entirely my fault. He is 
 one of the most diffident men I ever met. 
 I don't really blame him a bit for wanting
 
 228 MOLLY AND I 
 
 his money. Now, I don't happen to have 
 the cash this morning, but, let me see," 
 he went to his desk and picked up some 
 manuscript, "here is a story I am writing. 
 I figure that it is worth about seventy -five 
 dollars. I will give it to you just as it is for 
 the sixty I owe you and you can finish it up 
 to suit yourself. Shall I read it to you?" 
 
 The boy shook his head and shifted 
 nervously on his feet. 
 
 Molly went to Philip's desk, picked up 
 the envelope addressed to Mrs. Philip 
 Smith and handed it to him with an ap- 
 pealing look in her eyes. 
 
 Philip shook his head. 
 
 "No, Molly, we'll fail under our own 
 banner if we have to, but we won't accept 
 anything we can't give value received for. 
 I'm afraid we haven't anything more to 
 sell here." 
 
 He turned to Louie. 
 
 "I'll have to think up some scheme,"
 
 THE COST OF LIVING 229 
 
 he said. "Come up in a couple of hours 
 and I'll either be ready to pay you or we'll 
 move out. Molly, I'll toss you to see who 
 washes the dishes. The other one will 
 wipe 'em." He put his hand in his pocket, 
 then withdrew it empty. "Lend me a 
 coin, Louie." 
 
 The boy gave him a quarter. Philip 
 tossed it in the air and covered it between 
 his hand and the table as it came down. 
 
 "Call, Molly," he directed. 
 
 "Heads." 
 
 He uncovered the coin. 
 
 "You win. I'll wash." He gave the 
 quarter back to the hall-boy, who auto- 
 matically murmured, "Thank you," as 
 if it were a tip. 
 
 Philip disappeared into the kitchenette, 
 whence issued soon after the crash and 
 clatter of masculine dish-washing. The 
 bell-boy started to go. 
 
 "Louie." Molly halted him.
 
 230 MOLLY AND I 
 
 "Yes, ma'm." * 
 
 "Wait." 
 
 She took a roll of bills from her waist. 
 "Here, take those and don't say something 
 to him about it." She jerked her head 
 toward Philip in the kitchen. "Never 
 mind where I get him. You take those and 
 maybe Uncle Sam shall forget all about 
 it." 
 
 " Gee," exclaimed the boy, looking at the 
 roll of bills. "I'll bet that's your wages 
 for a year. Say, would you mind if I told 
 you that I think you're all right?" He 
 fumbled his cap in boyish embarrassment 
 and looked at the floor. 
 
 "Thank you, Louie, and would you 
 mind if I tell you I think you are a 
 very nice, young boy?" She patted his 
 arm. 
 
 "I ain't so darn young," he muttered, 
 kicking his heel. "I'm seventeen and I, 
 oh, darn, I can't say it."
 
 THE COST OF LIVING 231 
 
 He turned, covered with confusion, and 
 scurried away hastily. 
 
 Molly danced up and down with pleas- 
 ure at this evidence of her powers. 
 
 Philip stuck his head out of the door and 
 caught her at it. 
 
 "Say, Molly," he reminded her, sar- 
 castically, "this is no dancing-class. 
 Aren't you going to help?" 
 
 " Oh, I very sorry, Uncle Sam, but Louie, 
 he is so nice." 
 
 Philip shook his fist at the door through 
 which the boy had vanished. "Well, 
 damn that young scoundrel ! " 
 
 Molly mimicked him. "Well, damn 
 that young scoundrel!" 
 
 "No! No! "protested the man. "Don't 
 say everything that I do. It isn't nice for 
 little Dutch girls to say 'damn." 
 
 "All right," Molly agreed, with instan- 
 taneous docility, "I say 'hell' instead?" 
 
 Philip put his hand firmly over her
 
 MOLLY AND I 
 
 mouth, thus inadvertently obliterating 
 most of the rest of her features except her 
 ears, and held her, thus squirming, while 
 he delivered a lecture on profanity. 
 
 They were thus playfully engaged when 
 Jack Herrick entered, as usual, without 
 knocking. At sight of him they separated, 
 laughing but unabashed. 
 
 "Good morning, Jack," greeted Philip. 
 
 Jack replied gloomily, "Good morning." 
 
 "Good morning, Herr Herrick." 
 
 "Don't call me 'Herr Herrick.' It 
 sounds as though you were stuttering. 
 Call me 'Old Top' or 'Fat' or 'Mister.'" 
 
 "I shall call you 'Herr Mister,'" de- 
 cided Molly, as she marched off to the 
 kitchenette. 
 
 "Now, sit down, Jack, and tell me what's 
 on your mind." 
 
 "I will, if you'll take off that thing 
 you've got on, that makes you look like a 
 Scotch Salome dancer."
 
 THE COST OF LIVING 233 
 
 "All right, although as far as that goes 
 I've seen you wearing this very apron, 
 yourself." 
 
 "Maybe, but you do it with an aban- 
 don that is disgraceful." 
 
 "Well, it's off." Philip deposited the 
 offending garment on a chair. "What's 
 the matter?" 
 
 Jack glanced significantly toward the 
 kitchenette. "Molly." 
 
 Philip laughed. "You, too?" He sat 
 on the edge of his desk. 
 
 "You're doing a foolish thing, Phil." 
 
 "What's that?" 
 
 "Marian and I both noticed it and I 
 decided I'd better speak to you about it. 
 You are thinking of falling in love with 
 Molly." 
 
 Philip smiled. " You're mistaken, Jack. " 
 Then after a pause he added, "No, by 
 George, now you mention it, I believe you 
 are right, except that I'm not thinking of
 
 234 MOLLY AND I 
 
 falling in love with Molly. I don't have to 
 think. I've done it. It's accomplished." 
 
 "But, Phil, she's a servant." 
 
 "I don't know that it makes any dif- 
 ference much, what position a woman 
 occupies," Philip replied slowly, "if she is 
 like Molly. You old fraud, you are head 
 over heels in love with her yourself." 
 
 "I know it," Jack returned simply. "I 
 suppose, maybe that's why I can't stand 
 idly by and see you break her heart with- 
 out making some protest." 
 
 "Break her heart?" Philip echoed. 
 "Who is going to break her heart? Man, 
 I'll marry her." 
 
 "You're talking nonsense, old man," Jack 
 argued, patiently. "Marriage would only 
 mean unhappiness to both of you. You 
 don't even know where she came from." 
 
 "She came in a silver ship with cobweb 
 sails when the wind was blowing straight 
 from fairyland."
 
 THE .COST OF LIVING 235 
 
 "Very pretty, but not particularly sen- 
 sible. Think of introducing to your 
 friends and family a wife who speaks 
 English like Sam Bernard and eats with 
 her knife." 
 
 "She does not," retorted Philip. "She 
 uses a fork for almost everything now ' 
 he smiled reminiscently " except pie." 
 
 "You're not being fair to Molly. You 
 can't ask her to marry you, anyway. 
 You're already married." 
 
 "So I am," Philip admitted. "I will 
 be careful until I get a divorce, but I warn 
 you, there is only one way you can pre- 
 vent a horrible mesalliance between Molly 
 and me." 
 
 "How?" 
 
 "By marrying her yourself. You're an 
 artist, and artists don't have to be very 
 particular because they're bound to be 
 unhappy, anyway."
 
 CHAPTER XVII 
 
 HABITS OF THE HEN 
 
 1V/TANY times that morning after Jack 
 had gone Philip laughed silently to 
 himself. How ridiculous to apply the 
 standards of ordinary convention to his 
 relations with the little German girl. He 
 had hardly stopped to try to define what 
 those relations were before. Even now 
 he didn't know whether he thought of 
 her as a child or as a woman. Only that 
 morning, in getting out clean clothing from 
 his dresser, he had discovered that all his 
 socks, neatly darned, had been ornamented 
 with a tiny, green spider embroidered on 
 the toe. A grown woman would never 
 have done a thing like that. Nor would 
 she have traded an old pair of trousers to
 
 HABITS OF THE HEN 237 
 
 a junk dealer for a set of six iron stove 
 lids because it "seemed like a lot.*' 
 
 She was singing in the kitchenette the 
 same little melody he had heard her hum 
 so often. 
 
 Philip tapped the bell on his desk. 
 The singing stopped and Molly came 
 to a position in back of him a little 
 to one side. It was her usual re- 
 sponse to a summons, like a soldier's 
 automatic reaction to the command of 
 "Attention." 
 
 "Did you want me, Uncle Sam?" 
 
 Philip did not turn his head, but kept 
 on pretending to write. That was also 
 part of the usual routine. 
 
 Finally without looking up he said, 
 "Yes, Molly. If you will get your reader 
 I will give you your lesson." 
 
 "Yes, sir." 
 
 From a drawer in the sideboard Molly 
 brought a worn, cloth-covered book which
 
 238 MOLLY AND I 
 
 she deposited gravely on the desk at 
 Philip's left hand. 
 
 After an interval, devoted also to an 
 imitation of writing on Philip's part and 
 respectful attention on Molly's, he further 
 commanded, "Get a chair and sit here 
 beside me." 
 
 He laid down his pen with apparent re- 
 luctance and picked up the book while she 
 dragged a chair over near his. 
 
 "Let's see." He opened the book. 
 "Where were we? Oh, yes, lesson six. 
 I can tell that because the pages we have 
 been over look as if a fox terrier had been 
 using them for a doormat. Read here." 
 
 He handed her the open book. 
 
 Molly bent over the page with pain- 
 ful earnestness. After a protracted study 
 of the words, during which she mouthed 
 them over silently to herself, she read 
 slowly and haltingly. "See the hen. 
 She is awful sea sick because
 
 HABITS OF THE HEN 239 
 
 she ate a very squirmy 
 worm.'* 
 
 Philip halted her sternly. "Is that in 
 the book?" 
 
 "Not all of it," Molly returned, glibly, 
 "but it fits the picture and I don't know 
 some of the words." 
 
 "Try again," Philip ordered. 
 
 "See - - the - - hen," Molly read and 
 then stopped, twisting her feet up in the 
 rungs of her chair in an agony of uncer- 
 tainty over the next word. 
 
 "It isn't necessary to dislocate your 
 ankles to master the English language," 
 Philip observed, critically. "Try it with 
 both feet on the floor." 
 
 Molly set her shoes squarely on the rug 
 and started again. 
 
 "See --the hen." She paused and 
 went back once more as if a running start 
 might carry her over the bad spot. "See 
 the hen "
 
 240 MOLLY AND I 
 
 "You have that much perfectly," Philip 
 commended. "I can visualize the hen 
 without further reiteration." 
 
 "What is 'L-a-g-s'?" Molly looked 
 up inquiringly, her finger planted firmly on 
 the place to obviate the danger of the 
 words scurrying away while she wasn't 
 looking. 
 
 "What?" 
 
 "L-a-g-s '?" She spelled it over again 
 laboriously. 
 
 "Let me see that!" Philip was incred- 
 ulous. "That isn't a *g'; it's a 'y'" 
 
 "It looks like a *g' to me," Molly 
 insisted politely, as one who was will- 
 ing to give in but preferred to retain 
 her own convictions. "L-a-y-s.' What 
 is that?" 
 
 "Lays." 
 
 "Oh!" Molly returned to the book. 
 "See the hen. The hen lays nice " 
 
 "Well?"
 
 HABITS OF THE HEN 241 
 
 Molly resorted to spelling once more. 
 "'E-y-y-s.'" 
 
 "No," Philip corrected her patiently, 
 "those are *gV this time." 
 
 "Oh. J wish they wouldn't jump 
 around so much. 'E-g-g-s.'" She thought 
 a moment and then spelled it over. 
 " 'E-g-g-s.'" 
 
 "You know that word. What do we 
 have for breakfast?" 
 
 "Oh, I know." Molly brightened. 
 "The hen lays nice coffee." 
 
 "No! no!" 
 
 "Toast?" 
 
 "No; eggs eggs!" 
 
 "But," she objected, "we don't have 
 eggs any more. We are too poor." 
 
 As she leaned over her book a small 
 chamois bag, suspended around her neck 
 by a ribbon, slipped out from the front 
 of her waist. Before she could return it 
 Philip noticed it.
 
 MOLLY AND I 
 
 "What is that?" he asked. 
 
 "What?" 
 
 "In the bag." 
 
 Molly tucked it away hastily. 
 
 "He is something I not can tell you 
 about him now. He bring luck if you not 
 know. Some day when you send me away 
 for always, when never I come back again, 
 ever, then I give him to you, you open 
 him." 
 
 "If that's the only way I can find out, I 
 hope that I shall never know."
 
 CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 THE APARTMENT IS CROWDED 
 
 /^iNE fine afternoon Philip discovered 
 that his novel was done, corrected 
 and rewritten. 
 
 Further than that, he rather liked it. 
 Not that he had any illusions that it made 
 "The Broad Highway" look like the work 
 of a hack writer, but he felt that he had 
 done a readable yarn of a type that the 
 public can be coaxed to buy. 
 
 He called Molly in to look at the bulky 
 pile of manuscript. 
 
 "If I sell it, Molly, I'll buy you 
 a new hat and we'll take dinner at the 
 Plaza." 
 
 Her eye lighted up with joy for an in- 
 stant, then the flash died away as she said,
 
 244 MOLLY AND I 
 
 "You are so good, Uncle Sam, but that I 
 cannot did." 
 
 "Can't? Why?" 
 
 "One takes not one's servant to dine. 
 I might get what you call fresh." 
 
 "We'll see about that." 
 
 Philip was putting his manuscript to- 
 gether when Jack came in with his artist's 
 paraphernalia and asked if Molly could be 
 spared to pose for him. 
 
 "I need her for an illustration I'm doing." 
 
 "Surely," Philip acquiesced, "if she is 
 willing." 
 
 "May I draw your picture, Molly?" 
 Jack requested of the young lady herself, 
 who, with her sleeves rolled up and work- 
 apron over her dress, looked the incarna- 
 tion of industry. 
 
 "Yes, Herr Mister. Shall I dress me 
 up?" 
 
 "No, I want you just as you are. Sit 
 over here in this chair and I'll have a sketch
 
 THE APARTMENT CROWDED 245 
 
 in a minute, that is, if Philip doesn't 
 mind my working here." 
 
 "Not a bit of it," his friend rejoined, 
 " if you'll be fairly quiet. I have to write 
 a letter to go with this book, so whatever 
 you do, don't make Molly laugh, because 
 when she laughs I can't think of a single 
 other thing in all the world." 
 
 Philip inserted a piece of paper in 
 his typewriter and began to write. Jack 
 arranged his drawing-pad and silently 
 and surely began to block in a sketch 
 of Molly. 
 
 After five minutes of posing Molly be- 
 gan making frantic faces. 
 
 "Turn your head a wee bit this way, 
 Mollykin," Jack requested, "and stop 
 waggling your nose or I can't make any 
 picture." 
 
 "If I don't waggle it, it will itch me to 
 death." 
 
 "Scratch it then, but cease your imi-
 
 246 MOLLY AND I 
 
 tation of the Katzen jammer Kids while I 
 get this outline done." 
 
 Molly was silent for possibly fifteen 
 seconds and then she observed, "I don't 
 believe Uncle Sam is working at all. I 
 think he is watching us." 
 
 Philip suddenly discovered that his 
 hands were lying idle in his lap and he 
 hastily and noisily attacked his type- 
 writer. The net result of his industry 
 on paper was a statement to the effect 
 that, " Now is the time for all good 
 men and true to come to the aid of 
 their party." This was repeated several 
 times. 
 
 Jack shook his pencil at the girl. 
 
 "Molly," he said, "do you know, I am 
 beginning to think you are a fraud." 
 
 Molly thought a moment and asked, 
 "Is a fraud something that lives in a 
 puddle like a toad?" 
 
 "No, and you know it isn't. You
 
 THE APARTMENT CROWDED 247 
 
 know a lot more than anyone thinks you 
 do." 
 
 "Oh yes. I learn me lots." Molly 
 evidently regarded her education com- 
 placently. "Uncle Sam, he learn me." 
 
 "You know lots more than Uncle Sam 
 ever taught you." 
 
 "No, he learn me all, -- reading, 
 spelling, and talking, and even think- 
 ing. I think I like talking best." 
 
 "So I gathered." 
 
 "But I like to spell, too. I spell me some 
 words better as Uncle Sam. I can spell 
 'cat' with a 'k' and Uncle Sam never 
 thought of that, he says. Can I look at 
 the picture yet? " 
 
 "Not yet; maybe in a minute." 
 
 After a short pause Molly's mind as- 
 serted more thirst for information. "Are 
 you a great artist, Herr Mister?" 
 
 "No, not now," Jack confessed. "I 
 was a great artist when I was twenty-five.
 
 248 MOLLY AND I 
 
 I make better pictures now than I did then, 
 but then I always knew that I was going 
 to do something big some day; now I 
 know that I probably never will." 
 
 "I don't think," Molly halted, "that I 
 understand what you mean." 
 
 "I didn't think that you would." 
 
 Before the sitting was over Marian came 
 in, wearing a great, heavy, fur coat and 
 carrying a huge muff. 
 
 "May I bother you for a moment? " she 
 asked at the door, not coming in until she 
 was sure she was invited. 
 
 "Of course," Philip welcomed her, "if 
 you'll explain the disguise. It's rather 
 late for bears at this time of year. Most 
 of your pals have hunted up hollow trees 
 for the winter." 
 
 "My brother sent his touring car out 
 for me to play with and I've come to take 
 you and Jack riding. Will you come?" 
 
 "If you'll wait a minute or so until I
 
 THE APARTMENT CROWDED 249 
 
 can get this manuscript wrapped up, we'll 
 take it along and leave it on the door-step 
 of a publisher I've heard of who is very 
 kind to orphan novels. In the meantime 
 let's take off the Siberian Mother Hub- 
 bard so you won't take cold." 
 
 As he put his arms across her shoulders 
 from the back to lift the fur coat she turned 
 her face and the back of his hand touched 
 her cheek which was pleasantly cold. 
 Shamelessly she turned her head a little 
 further until her lips brushed his hand. 
 
 Then she laughed impudently in his face. 
 
 Philip surveyed her slender figure with 
 approval. 
 
 "Inside the husk you aren't big enough 
 to scare me at all. You peel down like a 
 Chinese nested egg." 
 
 "Sir!" she exclaimed, with a mock ex- 
 pression of horror, then smiled. "Accord- 
 ing to the latest dictates of modern fash- 
 ion, however, the next peeling doesn't
 
 250 MOLLY AND I 
 
 amount to much. If this dress was any 
 tighter I couldn't get it on a nail in the 
 closet." 
 
 Philip drew up a chair beside his 
 desk. 
 
 "Sit down," he requested. "Don't 
 mind if Jack doesn't pay any attention to 
 you. He is doing a sketch of Molly, as 
 you may have noticed." 
 
 "I'm very much displeased with Jack," 
 Marian said, as she sat down. "He has 
 neglected me shamefully of late. When- 
 ever I want him he is over here." 
 
 "Jack and I are old friends. You 
 must forgive me if I use up a lot of 
 his time." 
 
 "You flatter yourself if you think you 
 are the attraction." 
 
 "What do you mean?" 
 
 "Look at him." 
 
 Jack was exhibiting his sketch to Molly 
 who had left the seat where she had been
 
 THE APARTMENT CROWDED 251 
 
 posing and was now perched on the arm 
 of Jack's chair, swinging her foot idly and 
 smiling down into his face. 
 
 Philip sighed. "I wonder if you are 
 right." 
 
 "Poor Jack!" 
 
 "Why, 'poor Jack'?" 
 
 "Suppose he should take it into his 
 head to marry her." 
 
 "Why not?" Philip's loyalty to both 
 Molly and Jack was aroused. 
 
 "A struggling artist with a wife to drag 
 him down? You artists and authors must 
 marry women of culture who can help 
 
 you." 
 
 Molly was delighted with her own por- 
 trait. 
 
 "It is much what you call him, - 
 much gooder than what you ever did." 
 
 "Well," admitted the artist, "I never 
 had such a good model before." 
 
 "You think I am a good model?"
 
 MOLLY AND I 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "Maybe then if you draw me, you a 
 great artist should be." 
 
 "If I could always draw you, I'm sure 
 of it." The reawakening fires of ambition 
 wiped out ten of Jack's forty -odd years. 
 "It is because I haven't had you that I'm 
 not a great artist. Every other woman I 
 ever knew turned out to be worse than the 
 pictures I made of her, but I could draw 
 you all the rest of my life and never get all 
 the wonder of you on paper." 
 
 A frightened look came into Molly 's eyes. 
 
 "Jack," she exclaimed, as if she would 
 stop him. 
 
 "I might as well tell it now, Molly," he 
 continued, calmly. "I love you and want 
 you to marry me." He paused a moment 
 and looked into her eyes. "But you 
 needn't tell me the answer. We will now 
 pass to a discussion of why there is so 
 much salt in grandma's buckweat pan-
 
 THE APARTMENT CROWDED 253 
 
 cakes. Excuse me while I whistle the Wed- 
 ding March by Chopin." 
 
 Molly's eyes were nearly filled up with 
 tears. 
 
 "Jack," she said, "I mean, Herr Mister 
 
 j> 
 
 " Call me Jack. It makes it easier." 
 
 "All right," Molly acquiesced. " I think 
 you are one of the - She searched her 
 brain for the right adjective. 
 
 "Fattest men you ever knew," supplied 
 Jack. 
 
 " No," she protested. " Don't make joke. 
 I hurt me in here." She touched her 
 throat. " I do love you so much but not " 
 
 "The way you do someone else?" 
 
 She nodded. 
 
 "I was afraid so. I'm sorry, I'm sorry." 
 
 "Who you sorry for?" 
 
 "God help us, Molly, I'm sorry for all 
 of us. I hoped I could save you a heart- 
 ache and Phil."
 
 254 MOLLY AND I 
 
 When Philip was quite ready to go he 
 helped Marian on with her coat once more. 
 
 "I'll be back in an hour or so," he told 
 Molly. 
 
 "You'll want something warm to wear," 
 Marian advised, as Philip got his hat. 
 "Where's your winter overcoat?" 
 
 Philip paused and smiled. 
 
 "If you insist on knowing, it is here in 
 this package." He tapped the novel. 
 "For its size that bundle contains a sur- 
 prising number of things. For instance 
 you'd never think to look at it that there 
 was a sack of flour in it and a pair of shoes, 
 and a bunch of violets with an orchid in the 
 middle for a lady who is kind to us and 
 maybe a Christmas tree, who knows? 
 Pandora's box, itself, contained little more 
 than this commonplace, brown paper 
 parcel." 
 
 "But you'll freeze on the open car," 
 protested Marian.
 
 THE APARTMENT CROWDED 255 
 
 "No, I won't," said Philip. "Authors 
 who have just finished novels don't freeze, 
 - not unless they get them back. Come 
 on, before the winter sun goes down." 
 
 At the curb Jack begged to be excused 
 from going with them. 
 
 "I have to finish this picture." He in- 
 dicated the sketch of Molly. 
 
 When they were started with the keen 
 air rushing by, taking each word from their 
 mouth and hurling it back over their 
 shoulders, Philip said, "That was all 
 nonsense about finishing the picture. He 
 can't see to work much more to-day. 
 What's the matter, I wonder?" 
 
 " My friend, he is in love, I tell you. He 
 would rather be alone with his picture of 
 
 her than to have his thoughts distracted 
 
 i_ " 
 by us. 
 
 "I can't believe it is so very serious." 
 "You don't have to. Love is a subject 
 you don't know as much about as I do."
 
 256 MOLLY AND I 
 
 "Don't be too sure," he retorted. 
 "I've been writing love stories all my life." 
 
 "Any woman in the world knows more 
 about love than the greatest male author 
 that ever lived." 
 
 "If you mean me," Philip murmured, 
 in mock modesty, "I think you are putting 
 it a trifle too strong." 
 
 A little later, Philip, whose mind was 
 still dwelling on the strange behavior of 
 Jack, said apropos of nothing in particu- 
 lar, "I don't think it is quite fair for Jack 
 to fall in love with my housekeeper. Why, 
 he might even take her away from me and 
 then where would I be?" 
 
 "I don't suppose he thinks of that. 
 You know the rules of love and warfare 
 are strikingly similar." 
 
 Philip sighed. "I suppose you are 
 right." 
 
 "Of course. What would you do if you 
 loved a woman who needed you and be-
 
 THE APARTMENT CROWDED 257 
 
 tween you and her stood the physical 
 comfort of some friend?" 
 
 "I'd waltz on the ribs of . aforesaid 
 friend, of course, " Philip laughed. 
 
 "There you are. The non-combatant 
 on the field of battle is more apt to get 
 hurt than the man behind the gun."
 
 CHAPTER XIX 
 
 BUT SUDDENLY BECOMES LONELY 
 
 AT Philip's apartment the brightly 
 gilded clock ticked loudly on, vieing 
 with Molly's voice as she sang about the 
 business of getting dinner. Later, when it 
 was quite dark and dinner was all ready to 
 be eaten, it ticked impatiently, asking 
 where the deuce this man could be at meal- 
 time. Then, later still, when the dinner 
 was cold and spoiled, it dragged its steps 
 slowly across the silence of the apartment 
 like a weary sentinel. 
 
 Molly sat at the window and waited, - 
 not that she could see him if he came down 
 the street but because it is a sort of instinct 
 with women to look out into the night for 
 their absent ones and to place a light in 
 the window for then* safe return.
 
 SUDDENLY BECOMES LONELY 259 
 
 From her window she could see the 
 luminous canon of Broadway, alive with a 
 myriad of sliding lights. There was no 
 sound of the machinery back of the 
 lights and each one might have been a 
 bright bead slipping down an inclined 
 string. 
 
 At first the clock was companionable; 
 later it jeered at the loneliness of the 
 apartment and became so deliberate that 
 Molly braced her nerves for the sharp 
 pound of each tick. 
 
 After a while she put away the din- 
 ner uneaten and cleaned up the kit- 
 chen, getting things ready for a hasty 
 luncheon when Philip should come in. 
 He would surely be hungry because al- 
 ways before when he had skipped a 
 meal at home and eaten somewhere 
 else he had telephoned and dismissed 
 her for the night. Because he had not 
 telephoned she was sure that this time
 
 260 MOLLY AND I 
 
 he would be expecting something to eat 
 at home. 
 
 So she resumed her seat at the win- 
 dow and patiently counted the slow foot- 
 steps of tune that seemed somehow to 
 be dragging Philip farther and farther 
 away. 
 
 An inquisitive sun found her there in 
 the morning, huddled up in the chair 
 where she had fallen asleep. 
 
 She awakened with a sensation of numb- 
 ness from sleeping in her clothes. The 
 room was stuffy and strangely silent. 
 
 Uncle Sam must have come in while she 
 was asleep and gone to bed without 
 waking her. Then a recollection of Uncle 
 Sam's kindness made her doubt. If he 
 had come in, he would have picked her 
 up, put her in his own bed and slept in the 
 chair himself. She blushed as she thought 
 of how he had done that on the night of 
 her first arrival at the apartment.
 
 SUDDENLY BECOMES LONELY 261 
 
 She tip-toed to the bedroom and looked 
 in. It had not been occupied. 
 
 With the clutch of fear at her heart she 
 turned back. 
 
 There was a click of a key being inserted 
 in the outer door. 
 
 He was coming! 
 
 Molly steadied herself so as not to let 
 him see how upset she was. 
 
 The door opened and Mrs. Sutherland 
 came in, alone. The two women 
 stared at each other across the table. 
 Both were haggard, neither was as care- 
 fully dressed as usual. The older woman's 
 features sagged a little as if she had not 
 quite the strength to hold them up. 
 
 "Well," asked Molly, "where is he?" 
 
 "He's hurt," Marian explained briefly. 
 "The automobile ran into a motor bus." 
 
 "Will he die?" Molly moistened her 
 lips. 
 
 "Not if care and my prayers can pull
 
 262 MOLLY AND I 
 
 him through." Marian uttered this de- 
 fiantly. "They took him to the hospital. 
 He is sleeping now for the first time, and 
 I came over to get some of his things and 
 to tell you." 
 
 There was a thoughtful pause. 
 
 "He wants me to close up the place and 
 get another position for you." Marian 
 made this statement at the prompting 
 of a wildly fluttering heart that kept 
 assuring her that "all is fair in love and 
 war." 
 
 "Yes," assented Molly dully. "Itdoesn't 
 matter about me." 
 
 "Later," added Marian, "he may want 
 you to come back. At present he can't 
 afford to keep you and I will take care of 
 him because because ' 
 
 "Because you love him," supplied Molly. 
 
 "He saved my life," Marian explained 
 simply. 
 
 At Marian's suggestion Molly found
 
 SUDDENLY BECOMES LONELY 263 
 
 a few things Philip would require and 
 packed them in a grip she found in 
 his room. Then she stood watching 
 Marian dully, as yet not comprehending 
 the catastrophe that had befallen her 
 household. 
 
 When Marian was quite ready to go she 
 addressed Molly once more. 
 
 "If you'll come to my apartment this 
 afternoon and bring your key I will see 
 what I can do for you. Suppose you come 
 at three o'clock." 
 
 Involuntarily as one does in making an 
 appointment she glanced at the clock. 
 
 "Why," she exclaimed, " your clock has 
 stopped!" 
 
 "Yes." Molly knew now why the room 
 had seemed so lifeless when she had 
 wakened. 
 
 Molly got her hat and coat from the 
 closet. 
 
 "Wait," she requested. "I will give
 
 264 MOLLY AND I 
 
 you the key now. I'd rather not stay here 
 any more." 
 
 She produced a key from her purse and 
 handed it to Marian. 
 
 "There was no money left," she an- 
 swered, in response to a question she 
 thought she saw in Marian's eye. 
 
 "He was quite poor then?" 
 
 "Dreadfully." 
 
 Molly hesitated a moment. "There's 
 one other thing," she requested, removing 
 the chamois bag from her neck. "When 
 Mr. Smith is well, quite recovered, not 
 before, will you give him this? I assure 
 you it will answer any questions he may 
 ask about me." 
 
 "Certainly." Marian took the bag and 
 held it curiously. "But someway you 
 don't talk like a German peasant girl this 
 morning. Who are you?" 
 
 Molly shook her head. "It doesn't 
 matter. Good-bye. I hope "
 
 SUDDENLY BECOMES LONELY 265 
 
 A rising sob choked her speech and she 
 opened the door hastily and went out. 
 For a while the woman she had left in 
 possession of the apartment could hear her 
 walking down the stairs. 
 
 All at once Marian ran to the top of the 
 staircase and called, "Molly, Molly." 
 
 The footsteps grew fainter. 
 
 She rang for the elevator and descended. 
 
 She looked to the right and to the left. 
 The street was jammed with people and 
 fire-fighting apparatus. 
 
 The building across the way was suffer- 
 ing from a false alarm. 
 
 And Molly was lost in the crowd.
 
 CHAPTER XX 
 
 AND THEN DESOLATE 
 
 next person to cross the threshold 
 of Philip's apartment was Philip him- 
 self, and the event did not occur until many 
 weeks afterward. All of his bones were 
 there, as one could tell at a glance, but 
 nature had not yet had time to do any 
 padding or decorating. He walked un- 
 certainly and each step seemed an experi- 
 ment with unfamiliar apparatus. 
 
 He had proved a bad patient, uncom- 
 plaining it is true, but chafing at restraint 
 and restless to get back to work. The 
 fact that he had been obliged to accept 
 Marian's generous aid worried him de- 
 spite her iteration of her debt to him for 
 saving her life.
 
 AND THEN DESOLATE 267 
 
 The news of Molly's departure he had 
 accepted without comment. He had not 
 been told until several days after the event 
 and his mind had been so dulled by pain 
 and opiates that he had not realized very 
 keenly what it meant to him. 
 
 Now as he opened the door and gazed 
 around his home it was as if he looked at a 
 frame from which the picture had been 
 taken. The air was still and dead from 
 endless warming over by steam heat. The 
 table was set but the glass of water looked 
 stale and had bubbles in it. He turned and 
 faced the clock and as he gazed at its dumb 
 countenance he recalled his promise to 
 Molly that no one should ever wind it but 
 herself. 
 
 As he went about the apartment he 
 couldn't find any place he felt at home in. 
 He discovered that suddenly all of his 
 own belongings had become merely appur- 
 tenances to Molly, and without her they
 
 268 MOLLY AND I 
 
 were cheerless and dead. It was like ex- 
 ploring the ruins of a house unearthed at 
 Pompeii with everything standing just as 
 the inhabitants had left it when they 
 stepped out into the street a couple of 
 thousand years ago to see what was 
 happening in the city. 
 
 Jack found him at his desk studying the 
 first reader. The artist tactfully made no 
 reference to Molly's absence but asked 
 Philip to come out to luncheon with him. 
 Philip pretended to enjoy the meal very 
 much, carefully concealing from his friend 
 the fact that the soup tasted like dish 
 water and the coffee was bitter as gall. It 
 wasn't the fault of the chef; any food 
 would have tasted that way unless Molly 
 had prepared it. 
 
 They discussed Philip's novel, which had 
 been accepted during his illness. Jack 
 was doing the illustrations for it, which was 
 as they both wished.
 
 AND THEN DESOLATE 269 
 
 The advance royalty Philip had re- 
 ceived from the publisher for his book re- 
 lieved the financial crisis which had been 
 impending at the time of the accident and 
 left Philip not only free to write another 
 novel to follow up his first if it should 
 prove successful, but also to reimburse 
 Marian for the expenses of his illness. 
 
 Jack had with him a few sketches which 
 he wished Philip to pass on before he 
 turned them over to the publisher. After 
 luncheon Philip looked them over silently. 
 
 "Well,- ' Jack paused expectantly, 
 inviting criticism or approval. 
 
 "They're corking, Jack," Philip replied, 
 "only-" 
 
 "Only what?" 
 
 "It isn't just the way I had pictured the 
 girl. I daresay I shall get used to her this 
 way and like her better after a bit." 
 
 "It isn't necessary. I'd like to try 
 again."
 
 270 MOLLY AND I 
 
 "My Lord, Jack, what's that?" Philip 
 straightened in his chair and listened 
 intently. 
 
 The orchestra had started to play softly 
 a simple melody that would hardly engage 
 the mind of the average New York diner 
 for an instant. 
 
 Jack listened. He knew what it was. 
 It was the song Molly always sang about 
 her work. But Jack was helping to wean 
 Philip so he said, "Why, I don't know. It 
 sounds like something from that new opera 
 at the Casino. It's by a foreign composer, 
 I think." 
 
 Philip failed to get back into his mood 
 for writing. His rooms became intolerable 
 to him. They seemed to eject him auto- 
 matically every time he settled down to 
 work. Finally he decided that he had been 
 spoiled by having a servant and he visited 
 a number of employment agencies looking 
 for a substitute for Molly. After he had
 
 AND THEN DESOLATE 271 
 
 looked into the stolid faces of the appli- 
 cants waiting for positions in those places 
 he admitted shamelessly it was not a 
 servant that he was looking for. Molly 
 alone would do and at the other agencies 
 he inquired if they had on their books any 
 record of a small, blonde person answering 
 to his departed maid's description. 
 
 He found a good many and looking them 
 up occupied considerable time. Most 
 of them turned out to be Scandinavian 
 socialists with one-cylinder minds and 
 double-opposed feet. 
 
 Then he put a personal advertisement 
 in the papers and was surprised at the 
 number of humorists who took the trouble 
 to answer him facetiously. 
 
 It was no use. The city had swallowed 
 her up completely and had doubtless by 
 this time digested her into a commonplace, 
 typical American girl of the lower class. 
 
 The hurt grew duller, though it still per-
 
 272 MOLLY AND I 
 
 sisted, and Philip found time to pay part 
 of his debt of gratitude to Marian by being 
 nice to her. He was still pale and easily 
 exhausted and he often sat long hours in 
 her apartment, sometimes not saying much 
 but soothed by her companionship. Once 
 or twice Marian had started to speak of 
 Molly but he had seemed averse to the 
 subject and afterwards she avoided it. 
 
 The little chamois bag lay at the bottom 
 of a drawer in Marian's bedroom! She 
 assured herself occasionally that she had 
 forgotten to give it to him and that it was 
 better for him not to be reminded of a 
 mistake he had almost made. Anyway, 
 and this was the last argument with which 
 she bolstered up her conduct, all was fair 
 in love and war.
 
 CHAPTER XXI 
 
 IS ANYTHING AKIN TO LOVE? 
 
 AT last Marian's procedure seemed to 
 have its effect. Philip practically gave 
 up searching for Molly and unconsciously 
 included Marian in most of his plans. 
 When not working he either looked her 
 up and took her somewhere or spent his 
 time at her apartment across the hall. 
 Sometimes Jack was in the party but more 
 often not. 
 
 One evening he dropped in at twilight 
 for a smoke before dinner. 
 
 "I was going to give a birthday party 
 to-morrow in my own honor," he stated, 
 helping himself to his favorite brand of 
 cigarettes, which she always kept on the 
 mantel, "but Jack has a previous engage-
 
 274 MOLLY AND I 
 
 merit so I guess we'll have to call off our 
 celebration." 
 
 "Why?" She stepped close to him and 
 took hold of the lapels of his coat. "I 
 haven't any previous engagement. I 
 never have, since I've known you." 
 
 "I didn't suppose you would care to 
 have a celebration without Jack." 
 
 "It isn't Jack who makes it a celebra- 
 tion for me." She bored her fingers 
 through the buttonholes of his coat and 
 looked down. Then all at once she raised 
 her eyes, great, deep dark pools glistening 
 with tears just unshed. "Oh Phil, please 
 be very nice to me because I am awfully 
 lonely and you can be so nice sometimes." 
 
 "Thank you," said he, smiling and 
 taking her hands. "Then we'll have the 
 party to-morrow anyway. Shall we dine 
 at the Plaza and go to the opera or eat at 
 Churchill's and go to Hammerstein's?" 
 
 "That's more like yourself." She patted
 
 IS ANYTHING AKIN TO LOVE? 275 
 
 his hand gaily and released it. "I don't 
 care what we do as long as I am with you." 
 
 Philip lit his cigarette and then glanced 
 at her with sudden comprehension. " Ma- 
 rian," he said, "you and I are great pals, 
 aren't we?" 
 
 She regarded him steadily and seriously. 
 "Yes, I care a great deal about you. 
 More than I should, I suspect. Every 
 other man I ever met I wanted to have give 
 up something for me, but I feel now as if I 
 wanted to give up something for you." 
 She broke off suddenly, then continued, 
 "I'm very foolish to let you know this, 
 but even if you didn't care a bit about me 
 I'd have to tell you that if there should 
 ever come a time when I should not be 
 able to see you I shouldn't know whether 
 the sun was shining or not, or if the birds 
 came back in the spring, personally I 
 don't believe they would, or if there 
 were ever any more fresh apple-blossoms
 
 276 MOLLY AND I 
 
 in the orchards or violets in the woods, 
 and if you were gone, all the music in the 
 world would be frozen up like a tiny little 
 brook in winter." 
 
 She turned her back to him suddenly so 
 that he could not see her face. 
 
 He walked the length of the tiny apart- 
 ment and looked out into the gray-black 
 streets, chill in the dusk of a tired city. 
 She came to his side. 
 
 "Marian," Philip began, strangely 
 moved by the genuineness of the emotion, 
 "you're one of the sweetest women I ever 
 knew. There's something that I've had 
 on the tip of my tongue to tell you for a 
 long time." 
 
 Somewhere out in the street a beggar 
 violinist attempted to stay the current 
 of the home-bound throng with a plain- 
 tive melody. The people in the street 
 hesitated not at all but as it floated faintly 
 up to the window the melody awakened a
 
 IS ANYTHING AKIN TO LOVE? 277 
 
 drowsy memory that Philip had been tell- 
 ing himself over and over again was dead. 
 And the memory tugged gently at his 
 heart-strings with a little, wistful, apolo- 
 getic sort of pull as if it hated to bother 
 him just then but just couldn't help ask- 
 ing if he noticed that fellow in the street 
 there playing the song that Molly used to 
 sing. 
 
 Philip turned uncertainly toward Marian 
 and took her hands. 
 
 "But I can't tell you now, even," he 
 said. "Will it be all right if I tell you 
 to-morrow, after our party?" 
 
 She drew both his hands up to her 
 cheeks and rested her face in his palms. 
 Then she kissed first one and then the 
 other and lowered them gently again. 
 
 "I'll let you go, because I want to do 
 everything all the rest of my life just as 
 you wish it done, even if it is saying good- 
 bye sometime and letting you go forever.
 
 278 MOLLY AND I 
 
 Here, so that you won't forget, you must 
 wear my rose." She took a red bud from 
 her waist and put it in his buttonhole. 
 "Now go and be as gentle with me in your 
 thoughts as you can."
 
 CHAPTER XXII 
 
 A MAN'S IDEAL is SHATTERED; AND A 
 WOMAN'S HEART 
 
 ^PHE beggar musician in the street was 
 still playing when Philip came out of 
 the building, but he had changed his tune 
 to the latest opus of the celebrated Mr. 
 Berlin and was attracting a few nickels 
 into the hat which was placed suggestively 
 on the ground before him. He was a 
 young fellow, from a warmer country 
 than ours, as evidenced by a swarthy com- 
 plexion and a certain abandon about his 
 style of dressing for the winter. He un- 
 questionably had a knowledge of music 
 beyond most itinerant fiddlers and the 
 way he handled a bow would have de- 
 lighted Signor Campanini.
 
 280 MOLLY AND I 
 
 When he had finished the rag-time 
 selection, Philip introduced himself by 
 contributing half a dollar. 
 
 "A thousand thanks," smiled the musi- 
 cian. "You like some more rag-time." 
 He raised his bow with a flourish. 
 
 "No," Philip restrained him. "Could 
 you repeat the melody you played just 
 before the last one?" 
 
 "Si." The boy looked at him with a quick 
 smile of gratitude. "This, you mean?" 
 
 Softly, insinuatingly, he drew the simple, 
 plaintive, little air out of his violin, which 
 it seemed almost reluctant to leave, so 
 shy and unassuming it was. 
 
 For Philip every stroke of the bow filled 
 in the picture of a small but efficient blonde 
 young person, dressed in an absurdly large, 
 plaid, kitchen apron, with an expression of 
 serious attention to business, singing softly 
 to herself as she bent over her work. 
 
 When the musician had finished Philip
 
 A MAN'S IDEAL 281 
 
 thanked him and was about to turn away 
 when he stopped to ask casually, "Do you 
 know the name of it?" 
 
 "Si yes. It's one French chanson 
 by Chaminade. In French it is called 
 'L'Anneau d' Argent.* That comes it out 
 in English 'The Silver Ring/" 
 
 " 'The Silver Ring! ' " That was curious, 
 thought Philip, as he turned homeward. 
 
 It was not a melody that would ordi- 
 narily be popular with a large mass of 
 the public. It was French, too. Strange 
 that Molly should have picked it up. 
 She would never have heard it in New 
 York. Probably it was a reminiscence 
 of her life before she came to him. It 
 didn't matter. 
 
 Nothing about Molly mattered if he 
 were going to marry Marian and there was 
 no reason why he shouldn't marry her 
 and be very happy. Surely it would be 
 foolish to go on moping the rest of his life
 
 282 MOLLY AND I 
 
 because of a servant girl whom he would 
 never see again. 
 
 He stopped at a restaurant and ate a 
 perfunctory meal. 
 
 When he got back to his apartment he 
 found that Jack had been there and left a 
 drawing which he had shoved under the 
 hall door. 
 
 A note accompanied the sketch : 
 
 Dear Phil:- 
 
 This is my new idea for a frontispiece for 
 your book. You remember you said you did 
 not like the other one I drew. I am not sure 
 but I think this one will come nearer to meet- 
 ing with your approval. 
 
 Hastily, 
 
 Jack. 
 
 Philip turned back the paper flap which 
 protected it from rubbing and looked into 
 the timid, pleading eyes of Molly, dressed 
 as she was that night when she had come 
 to him out of the rain.
 
 A MAN'S IDEAL 283 
 
 With a dumb, dull hurt in his eyes he 
 placed it upright on his desk. 
 
 His heart protested that it wasn't fair 
 for him to ask it to keep on forgetting a 
 person and then to have continual remin- 
 ders of that person flaunted before it. 
 You couldn't expect a really hard heart 
 to withstand shocks like that and with a 
 soft, wabbly one like his own it was out 
 of the question. "Are we or are we not 
 going to forget her?" his heart demanded 
 crossly, beating very fast and climbing 
 up in his throat because it knew that made 
 him uncomfortable. "Are we?" 
 
 "We can't," the man answered simply, 
 and dropped his head on his arms to shut 
 out the sight of her as she stood in front 
 of him on his desk, her eyes repeating over 
 and over the words that he would never 
 again hear from her lips ; " Choo choo 
 choo, Uncle Sam, I love you." 
 
 He was bent over like that when Marian
 
 284 MOLLY AND I 
 
 opened the door softly and tip-toed up 
 behind him. In her eyes was a look of 
 tenderness and pity and she was about to 
 reach out and touch his hair when she 
 saw the picture on his desk before him. 
 
 A look of unearthly pain crossed her 
 features and she stood for a moment 
 scarcely breathing while the soul of her 
 sickened and died. 
 
 Then as silently as she had come she 
 reached the door and went out.
 
 CHAPTER XXIII 
 
 A VAMPIRE TURNS OUT TO BE ONLY A 
 WOMAN 
 
 following day in the mail came a 
 small parcel and a letter from Marian. 
 Wondering, he opened the letter first. It 
 was rather unusual of Marian to write. 
 It was her custom when she had anything 
 to say to him to run in for a few moments 
 or to call him up on the telephone. The 
 letter ran: 
 
 My dear Mr. Smith: (Rather formal, 
 thought Philip, but read on.) Please consider 
 everything that passed between us as a joke. 
 Am called away suddenly for a few weeks so if 
 I don't see you again, good-bye. I am sending 
 you by this mail a small package which Molly 
 gave me to give to you. She said you would 
 understand and because I was selfish I did
 
 286 MOLLY. AND I 
 
 not do it and I shall probably regret, all the 
 rest of my life, that I have finally done as she 
 requested. Yours, 
 
 Marian. 
 
 "Now what the deuce does she mean 
 by that?" thought Philip, as he untied the 
 string of the small accompanying parcel. 
 "It sounds as if she were sore about 
 something." 
 
 After the wrappings came away there 
 lay in his hand a small chamois bag which 
 he recognized as the one which Molly had 
 worn around her neck. Apathetically 
 he opened it and held it upside down in 
 his hand. Into his palm dropped the 
 curious Chinese good luck ring that he 
 had given to his wife on his wedding day. 
 
 Stunned he sat slowly absorbing the 
 significance of that ring in the possession 
 of Molly. What a fool he had been not 
 to see through her masquerade in the first 
 place! How she must have laughed at
 
 ONLY A WOMAN 287 
 
 the way .she had tricked him! What a 
 lark for a woman of wealth to dress up and 
 act as an emigrant girl for a little time and 
 then when the amusement palled to go 
 back to her accustomed luxurious mode of 
 life! Molly was dead forever. True, a 
 woman lived who spoke with her voice 
 and doubtless walked as she did but the 
 spirit had fled. Molly with a million 
 dollars was not Molly. The real Molly 
 had existed only in his own imagination. 
 
 His first sensations were those of blind 
 anger. A man hates to be fooled, especially 
 by one he cares a good deal about. 
 It was in this mood that he wrote to 
 her. 
 
 My dear Mrs. Smith: 
 
 I wish to offer belated congratulations on 
 your ability as an actress. I paid you the 
 sincere tribute of being convinced by it. Now 
 that the comedy is over there is no reason for 
 delaying longer about the divorce, is there?
 
 288 MOLLY AND I 
 
 I want to feel sure that the next woman I 
 meet is not my wife. I have several things of 
 yours, some solid silver, a first reader, a 
 clock and a complete peasant costume in- 
 cluding wooden-soled shoes. May I send them 
 to you or, if you would prefer that I should 
 not know your real address, will you have your 
 footman call for them? (You have a foot- 
 man, of course.) I will leave the key with the 
 hall-boy for him and will leave your things so 
 they can be easily found. 
 
 I know you will find the costume and prop- 
 erties useful in your future relation with the 
 gentleman who was looking for the North 
 Pole when we first met. I trust he is as 
 easily entertained as 
 
 Yours sincerely, 
 Philip Smith. 
 
 He addressed it in care of Doctor Allen. 
 
 Several hours after he mailed it he 
 began to regret the sarcastic tone of 
 his letter. After all what right had he 
 to scold a person who was nearly a stran-
 
 ONLY A WOMAN 289 
 
 ger, because he had happened to fair in 
 love with her? She had not asked him 
 to do that, probably did not know that 
 he had. On the credit side of her account 
 there certainly stood the salvage of his 
 life when he had considered it worthless, 
 to say nothing of the restoration of his 
 eyesight. She had made his future pos- 
 sible. Surely she had a right to do what 
 she wanted to with it. If playing tricks 
 was her idea of amusement he owed it to 
 her to be a complaisant subject. 
 
 He decided that in the morning he would 
 go to Doctor Allen's office before he had 
 any opportunity to forward the letter to his 
 wife and reclaim it. He could ask the 
 doctor to notify her of his desires in the 
 divorce matter without letting her know 
 that he was hurt. An annulment of their 
 marriage would be easily obtained and they 
 could both be free. Decidedly that would 
 be better than to let her get the letter.
 
 290 MOLLY AND I 
 
 The next morning Philip called up a 
 storage warehouse and van company and 
 asked them to send a man to give him an 
 estimate on moving his few belongings. 
 His apartment was too full of uneasy 
 memories for him to be able to work there 
 longer in peace. He would go to a board- 
 ing-house or a small family hotel in the 
 neighborhood, any place where he would 
 not be continually reminded of Molly. 
 
 Before he" left the building to go to 
 Doctor Allen's office for the purpose of re- 
 trieving his hasty letter, he deposited his 
 key with Louie, the hall-boy, and instructed 
 him to show the warehouse man his be- 
 longings if he should arrive during his 
 absence. 
 
 Half an hour or so later a simply tailored 
 young woman, rather small and quite pale, 
 with great, big, pleading eyes, approached 
 the hall-boy's desk and- asked if Mr. 
 Smith were in.
 
 ONLY A WOMAN 291 
 
 Louie glanced at her casually then 
 jumped out of his chair as if he had been 
 jabbed with a hat-pin. 
 
 "Molly!" he shouted, then looked again 
 doubtfully. "Is it Molly?" 
 
 "Yes, Louie, it's Molly." 
 
 "Gee, you've learned to be an American 
 awful fast. I'm awful glad you're back. 
 Maybe Mr. Smith won't be glad too. He 
 looks awful sick, but your cooking will fix 
 him up again. You look sort of like he 
 does youself, like nothing agreed with 
 you. You've been sick, too, ain't you?" 
 
 "No, Louie," she answered, listlessly. 
 "I'm all right. If Mr. Smith is home I 
 wish you would go up and ask him to give 
 you my things. Only please don't tell 
 him I'm down here. Tell him a footman 
 in a fine white livery called for them." 
 
 "He ain't here." Louie looked in the 
 drawer for Philip's key. "He left his key, 
 though, and you can go up yourself and
 
 292 MOLLY AND I 
 
 find your stuff." He held the key out to 
 Molly. 
 
 "He might come back while I was in his 
 apartment." Molly looked at the key 
 dubiously. " I would really rather not see 
 him." 
 
 "That's all right," the boy assured her, 
 leading the way to the elevator; "he won't 
 be back for quite a while, he said. I'll 
 open the door for you myself." Then as 
 an afterthought he invited, " Come on and 
 ride in the elevator. Nobody would ever 
 know you was a servant. You look lots 
 sweller than some of the ladies that lives 
 here." 
 
 "Thank you, Louie." Molly rewarded 
 him with a smile, " I should like to ride in the 
 elevator very much as I am quite tired." 
 
 Louie unlocked Philip's door and ad- 
 mitted Molly. 
 
 "Gee, look at the picture of you he's 
 got."
 
 ONLY A WOMAN 293 
 
 For a moment Molly's heart stood still 
 when she realized where her picture stood, 
 directly in front of Philip's chair; then her 
 reason assured her that it was coincidence. 
 If he had remembered her enough to honor 
 her picture thus intentionally, he would 
 have sent her the ring and asked her to 
 come back. 
 
 "It looks almost exactly like you," 
 commented Louie, "only it ain't quite 
 as pretty." He went to the door and fussed 
 with the spring lock. "I'll fix the latch 
 on the door so it don't lock and when you 
 come down again you can change it back. 
 I'll see you again before you go." 
 
 When she was alone Molly let her eyes 
 slowly travel over the various things in 
 the room. The table was set for one, 
 even to a glass of water, but there were 
 bubbles in the water and a rose in a vase 
 on the table had dropped its petals in a cir- 
 cle on the cloth. An apron lay across the
 
 294 MOLLY AND I 
 
 back of a chair. She had placed it there 
 when she left. She turned to the mantel- 
 piece. The clock was piteously silent and 
 the hands stood where they had halted 
 on the night when Philip did not come 
 home. 
 
 With a sigh she turned and began to 
 pick up the silver and things which Philip 
 had requested her to take away. 
 
 At last she had everything. After a 
 final look around she closed the door after 
 her. As she did so the door of the apart- 
 ment opposite opened and from it issued 
 Mrs. Sutherland in a travelling costume, 
 carrying a small grip. She stood face to 
 face with Molly. 
 
 "Oh," she gasped. "I didn't know you 
 were here." 
 
 "No, I suppose not," replied Molly, 
 coolly, "but I'm just going so it doesn't 
 matter." She started for the elevator. 
 
 Marian called after her, "Molly."
 
 ONLY A WOMAN 295 
 
 Molly turned. "Mrs. Philip Smith, if 
 you please - " she corrected, icily. 
 
 Marian stood as if frozen while she 
 straightened things out in her mind. At 
 last she spoke slowly, "I don't quite under- 
 stand everything but I think I have an 
 inkling. Will you explain one thing?" 
 
 "If I can," Molly replied, patiently. 
 
 "Why," asked Marian, "didn't Mr. 
 Smith recognize you in Molly?" 
 
 "He had never seen me before, at least 
 since I've grdwn up. When we were 
 married he was blind. Now unless there 
 is something else I can explain to you I 
 will leave you in full possession of the field 
 and my husband." 
 
 As she pressed the button for the eleva- 
 tor Marian stopped her. "Mrs. Smith." 
 
 Molly answered pleasantly, "Well, Mrs. 
 Sutherland?" 
 
 "You don't like me very well, do you, 
 Mrs. Smith?"
 
 296 MOLLY AND I 
 
 
 
 "Why, certainly," Molly said, slowly, "I 
 like you fully as well as I do most people 
 on short acquaintance." 
 
 "Nevertheless," insisted the older 
 woman, "I feel that you have an idea 
 that I am not your friend. On the 
 contrary I am very anxious to do you 
 a service. There is something I have 
 to say to you before you go. It's 
 rather difficult for me to do. It's about 
 Mr. Smith." 
 
 " Oh ! Are congratulations in order? " 
 
 "No. You are entirely mistaken. So 
 was I until yesterday. And I didn't play 
 fair until yesterday. I did not give him 
 the chamois bag you had left for him with 
 the ring in it. Oh yes, I looked, but I 
 never understood what it meant, before. 
 I thought I could make him forget you, 
 that's why I let you go away in the first 
 place. But yesterday I found out that 
 there was no room for me in his heart
 
 'If you ever discover that you don't care for him so much, 
 oh, please, please, send him to me."
 
 ONLY A WOMAN 297 
 
 because even the memory of you had 
 crowded everything else out." 
 
 Molly started to speak but Marian 
 silenced her with a gesture and continued. 
 'You must believe that what I say is true. 
 If it were not so, if I even thought there 
 was a chance for me, I would never tell 
 you this. I am selfish and I need him more 
 than you do, but I want him to be happy. 
 It is no easy thing for a woman to give up 
 the man she cares for to the woman he loves. 
 I don't think there is anything more I 
 can say. I am the one who is going away." 
 
 The elevator cable creaked noisily as 
 the car rose. 
 
 Marian went to the shaft herself and, as 
 she stood waiting, turned back and said 
 with a break in her voice, " If you ever dis- 
 cover that you don't care for him so much, 
 - oh, please, please, send him to me." 
 
 The elevator door opened and she 
 stepped in.
 
 CHAPTER XXIV 
 
 "PVOCTOR Allen, the celebrated eye and 
 ear specialist, shared a suite of offices 
 with several other physicians and they 
 all contributed toward the salaries of two 
 young women who were called stenog- 
 raphers but who in reality performed 
 many and varied duties, ranging from 
 expert accounting to assisting as nurses in 
 delicate operations. One of them w T as 
 large and heavy, with big, strong hands, 
 and the other was quite small and light 
 both in weight and complexion. But her 
 slender fingers were just as capable as those 
 of the big one and together they formed 
 an invaluable adjunct to the medical 
 expert whom they served.
 
 A GENTLEMAN LEARNS 299 
 
 It was the tall one who was in the re- 
 ception room when Philip arrived and she 
 took his card in to Doctor Allen who in- 
 vited him in at once. 
 
 " No more trouble with the eyes, I hope," 
 the doctor said, after he had greeted his 
 friend and former patient. 
 
 "None at all, I'm glad to say," Philip 
 responded. "I came to you this time 
 with another kind of trouble. Have you 
 that letter handy that I sent in your care 
 to be forwarded to my wife?" 
 
 "A letter? To your wife?" Doctor Allen 
 knitted his brows uncomprehendingly. "I 
 don't believe I know anything about this." 
 
 "I mailed a letter to Mrs. Philip Smith 
 last night, addressed in care of this office, 
 with a request to forward. I am very 
 anxious to get it back." 
 
 "I see." The doctor pressed a push 
 button on his desk. "One of the stenog- 
 raphers always attends to the mail so I
 
 300 MOLLY AND I 
 
 didn't see it. I wouldn't know where to 
 forward it if I had." 
 
 The young woman from the outer office 
 entered. 
 
 "Louise," asked the doctor, "was there 
 a letter in the mail this morning addressed 
 to 'Mrs. Philip Smith' in care of me?" 
 
 "Yes, sir." 
 
 Philip breathed a sigh of relief. 
 
 "Bring it in please," the doctor directed. 
 
 "I haven't it. Mary took it and said 
 she would attend to forwarding it." 
 
 "Oh, then ask Mary to bring it in." 
 
 "I'm sorry but Mary went out half an 
 hour ago and hasn't come back yet. She 
 seemed terribly upset about something." 
 
 "I'm sorry. She hasn't been well lately 
 anyway. That's all, Louise. Let me know 
 when Mary returns." 
 
 He turned back to Philip. "We have 
 two stenographers and Mary, the one who 
 has your letter, is out. She'll be back
 
 A GENTLEMAN LEARNS 301 
 
 presently, I'm sure. By the way, I didn't 
 know that you were married." 
 
 "Didn't know I was married?" Philip 
 repeated blankly. "Why, I married your 
 own ward." 
 
 "My ward? I haven't any ward." 
 The doctor looked anxiously at the pupil 
 of Philip's eye as if he expected to discover 
 symptoms of insanity. "Have you got a 
 fever, Philip?" 
 
 "No, of course not." He brushed the 
 doctor's solicitude impatiently aside. "I 
 certainly married a girl who said she was 
 your ward. It was the day I was in your 
 office when I was first blind, do you re- 
 member? She said she had to be married 
 by the next day or lose all her fortune so 
 I went through the ceremony with her 
 just to be obliging. Later she wrote me a 
 letter from your office here saying she was 
 getting a divorce." 
 
 "This is all wild talk," the doctor replied,
 
 302 MOLLY AND I 
 
 / 
 
 in a soothing tone. "It isn't like real life a 
 bit. It sounds like the plot of a story." 
 
 "I'll tell you how real it is," Philip 
 stated firmly, " it's so real that this girl, who- 
 ever she is, gave me a thousand dollars to 
 go to Switzerland and save my eyes." 
 
 "Gave you a thousand dollars!" ex- 
 claimed the doctor. "Why, I was the one 
 who sent you a thousand dollars." 
 
 "No, no," insisted Philip politely. 
 "Don't you remember, you offered it to 
 me right here in this office but I refused it." 
 
 "I know you did, here, but after you 
 left my stenographer said she thought she 
 knew a way to make you take it and she 
 went after you. She had some foolish 
 idea in her head that you were going to 
 commit suicide. When she came back 
 she had you all fixed up and on the way 
 to Europe." 
 
 "Oh!" Philip sat as if stunned. "Is 
 this girl of yours by any chance a rather
 
 A GENTLEMAN LEARNS 303 
 
 small, blonde sort of person with big 
 eyes, who can cook better than anyone 
 else in the world?" 
 
 Doctor Allen laughed. "I don't know 
 whether she can cook or not but she's the 
 best assistant I ever had. Otherwise you 
 have described her." 
 
 "Is there a scar on her cheek something 
 like a dimple?" 
 
 "Why, yes, although you don't notice it 
 after you know her." 
 
 "And is she very rich, the heiress of an 
 eccentric aunt?" 
 
 "I'm afraid not. She may have some 
 money saved up from her salary but not 
 much because she laid off quite a while 
 this winter. Anything she has she earned 
 herself, I'm pretty sure." 
 
 Philip rose from his chair. 
 
 "I want to see that stenographer of 
 yours, and I'll wait in the outer office 
 until she comes in."
 
 304 MOLLY AND I 
 
 The door opened and Louise came in 
 with a memorandum. 
 
 "Mary just called up," she announced. 
 " She said to tell you that she isn't coming 
 back and that she wishes to resign for 
 good. She says she has gone home to her 
 own family." 
 
 Philip's heart smote him. That letter! 
 It had crushed the spirit of the poor girl. 
 He must find her and make reparation. 
 
 "Where is her home?" he demanded, 
 fiercely. "Where does her family live?" 
 
 "I don't know," answered the girl. 
 
 "Neither do I," said Doctor Allen. "I 
 always supposed she was an orphan." 
 
 "If she comes back," directed Philip on 
 his way to the door, " tell her to wait here 
 for me." 
 
 "Where are you going?" the doctor 
 queried mildly. 
 
 "I don't know, but I'm going to find 
 my wife if it takes the rest of my life."
 
 CHAPTER XXV 
 
 A BACHELOR APARTMENT BECOMES THE 
 HOME OF A FAMILY 
 
 TENDING a blonde in New York where 
 they sell peroxide so cheaply is more 
 easily said than done. Philip visited all 
 the railroad stations and boat docks in a 
 vain search for Molly, or Mary or Mrs. 
 Philip Smith. He forgot about lunch and 
 business apointments and spent money on 
 taxi-cabs as if advance royalties would last 
 forever. 
 
 At dusk, tired and discouraged, he found 
 himself in the neighborhood of his own 
 apartment and he went home for a change 
 of linen. 
 
 "Did the man from the storage ware- 
 house come while I was away?" he asked 
 of the hall-boy, as he stopped for his key.
 
 306 MOLLY AND I 
 
 "The guy is up there now," replied Louie, 
 who seemed bubbling over with unaccus- 
 tomed good spirits. "Just walk right in." 
 
 His door was standing ajar and the lights 
 were lit inside. The living-room was 
 empty but there was someone stirring 
 about in the kitchenette. Probably it was 
 the moving-van man. 
 
 "Hello, there," called Philip. 
 
 From the kitchenette entered a man 
 wearing a badge which proclaimed him 
 an appraiser for a warehouse and van 
 company. 
 
 "Are you Mr. Smith?" he asked 
 pleasantly. 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 The man handed him a list of articles 
 of furniture and household goods. "Is 
 this correct? Is that the stuff you want 
 moved?" 
 
 Philip glanced down the list. 
 
 "One desk. Correct." He glanced at
 
 THE HOME OF A FAMILY 307 
 
 his desk. "Who has been picking up my 
 manuscripts?" he demanded, as he opened 
 a drawer. "Oh, it's all right. They've 
 been put away in the right place. One 
 chair. O. K. One clock " 
 
 He faced the mantel and stood with his 
 speech unfinished. 
 
 "Tell me, man," he said, grabbing the 
 appraiser by the arm, "is that clock 
 going?" 
 
 "It is. Can't you hear it? It makes 
 more noise than a blacksmith shop." 
 
 Philip listened. It certainly was tick- 
 ing, and in the hush one other sound rose 
 on the air. Someone was singing out in the 
 kitchenette, singing "The Silver Ring." 
 
 Without a word Philip took the man 
 from the warehouse and van company by 
 the arm, led him gently to the door and 
 outside. There he fished a five-dollar bill 
 from his pocket and gave it to the man. 
 
 "Here," he whispered, "go out on
 
 308 MOLLY AND I 
 
 Broadway and Forty-second street, 
 that's about four miles from here, and 
 buy yourself a cigar." 
 
 The man was mystified but willing to be 
 agreeable. "Then what shall I do?" 
 
 "I don't care. You might go to the 
 Montauk Theater over in Brooklyn and 
 see a show and after that take a boat to 
 Albany. It doesn't matter as long as you 
 never come back." 
 
 Leaving the amazed man clutching the 
 five-dollar bill and muttering words of 
 thanks Philip closed the door and went to 
 his desk. 
 
 He sat down, got out some paper and a 
 pencil and started writing. After he had 
 covered a page or so, he tapped the bell 
 which stood at his right hand and went on 
 with his work. 
 
 In the kitchenette the singing stopped 
 as if the singer had been suddenly shot. 
 There was a short, breathless pause and
 
 THE HOME OF A FAMILY 309 
 
 then came the clatter of wooden shoes 
 across the floor into the living-room. The 
 noise ceased somewhere back of him a 
 little to one side. 
 
 Philip did not look up but wrote on to 
 the end of the page. 
 
 "Molly," he said sternly, without turn- 
 ing. 
 
 "Did you want me, Uncle Sam?" 
 
 His words sounded hoarse and far 
 away but he still looked at the paper be- 
 fore him. "Yes, Molly, I want you more 
 than anything else in all the world. What 
 have you to say to that?" 
 
 "Uncle Sam, I love you." And then, as 
 he turned blindly to find her, a voice with 
 laughter and tears in it all mixed up so 
 that nobody could ever sort them out 
 again came from the little figure kneeling 
 at his feet. 
 
 " I'm not way up there, I'm down here." 
 
 Philip leaned down, picked his wife up
 
 310 MOLLY AND I 
 
 and placed her cosily on his knee. Then 
 he fished with a hooked forefinger into his 
 waistcoat pocket and extracted a curious, 
 age-tarnished ring of silver, bearing in 
 place of a seal the fantastic device indi- 
 cating the Celestial idea of the words 
 "Good Fortune." He took Molly's little 
 soft white hand, placed the ring on the 
 proper finger, and fastened it there for- 
 ever with a kiss. 
 
 Molly looked at the ring a full half 
 minute, and she too kissed it. Then she 
 turned her lovely, brimming eyes up to her 
 husband's face. Her arms slid around 
 his neck and she nestled close. On the 
 mantel an ornate clock tried hard to 
 attract attention by striking loudly 
 but neither Molly nor Philip heard it. 
 
 THE END
 
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