A Gamble with Life Part 15

"And how lovely you keep your house," Madeline went on, "and what taste you have shown in arranging your furniture."

Mrs. Tuke's face relaxed somewhat, and she gave the corner of the table cloth a little tug to straighten it.

"I think people stamp their character on everything they do, don't you, Mrs. Tuke? If a woman is a lady the house shows it. Look at these flowers how beautifully arranged they are," and Madeline bent down her head and sniffed at them.

"Some people never notice such things," Mrs. Tuke said, in an aggrieved tone.

"Oh, Mrs. Tuke! how can they help it; I am sure you would recognise taste and beauty anywhere."

"So many of the women hereabouts have no taste," Mrs. Tuke replied.

"They keep their houses any fas.h.i.+on. I always say you can tell what a house is like by the window curtains. You need not put your head inside the door."

"I quite agree with you, Mrs. Tuke. May I ask where you send your curtains to be got up so beautifully?"

"I get 'em up myself."

"No?"

"I do, indeed," and Mrs. Tuke smiled upon her visitor most benignantly.

"How clever you must be. Do you know I think we should become quite fast friends? We seem to understand each other so well. Some people never understand each other. Now, if you were like some narrow, uncharitable people you would not approve of my calling to see Mr. Sterne."

Mrs. Tuke started, and took a sidelong glance out of the window.

"And I have no doubt," Madeline went on, "if some of the people in St.

Gaved got to know that I was in the habit of calling here they would say all sorts of uncharitable things."

"I've not the least doubt of it," Mrs. Tuke said, severely.

"It is so nice to think you are not one of that sort," Madeline said, with a winning smile. "If I came here fifty times I know you would not talk about it. You see you understand people, Mrs. Tuke. And in America, as you know, girls have so much more freedom than they have in this country."

"So I've heard."

"It's natural, perhaps; they go to the same State schools together, and they grow up to respect each other. The girls learn self-reliance, and the boys chivalry."

"That sounds very nice," Mrs. Tuke remarked, with an interested look.

"It ought to be so everywhere. I don't think much of a girl who is not able to take care of herself."

"But men are not to be trusted, my dear," Mrs. Tuke said, with a pained expression in her eyes.

"Then they should be avoided and ostracised."

"Yes, I quite agree with you," Mrs. Tuke said, doubtfully; "but had you not better go and see Mr. Sterne now? Between ourselves, I believe he will be terribly impatient."

"And we'll renew our interesting conversation some other time."

"It's kind of you to want to talk to an old woman like me."

"You must not call yourself old, Mrs. Tuke," and Madeline tripped across the hall, and knocked timidly at the parlour door.

"Come in," called a clear, even voice, and Madeline turned the handle and entered. Her heart was beating considerably faster than usual, and directly she caught sight of Rufus a choking sensation came into her throat.

It was painfully pathetic to see this strong, handsome man lying pale and helpless on his narrow bed, and all because of her. If she had not been foolish and headstrong it would not have happened. And yet a great wave of grat.i.tude surged over her heart at the same moment. His life had been spared. If he had been drowned she would never have forgiven herself to the day of her death.

He greeted her with a smile that was all brightness and suns.h.i.+ne. For the moment all the pain and disappointment and foreboding of the last week were forgotten. The presence of this beautiful girl was compensation for all he had endured.

"It is good of you to come," he said, in a tone that vibrated with unmistakable grat.i.tude.

"No, please don't say that," she answered, a mist coming up before her eyes. "I was afraid you might hate the very sight of me."

He smiled at her for answer, and pointed to a chair.

"I've been wanting to see you for days," she went on; "wanting to ease my heart by telling you how grateful I am, and how terribly I regret causing you so much loss and suffering."

He smiled again. What answer could he make to such words of self-revealing? He would simply have to let her talk on until she gave him something to reply to.

"I told Dr. Pendarvis that I expected in secret you were heaping maledictions on my defenceless head."

"Have you so poor an opinion of me as all that?" he questioned, looking steadily into her sweet, brown eyes.

"Well, you see, I calculate I was judging you by myself somewhat."

"And if you had saved me, and slightly damaged yourself in the process, would you have been very angry with me?"

"Oh! I am only a girl, and if I were disabled for a year, n.o.body would be the loser. But with you it is different. I wish it had been the other way about."

"I don't."

"No?"

"No, I am glad things are as they are."

"But your invention is at a standstill."

"Who told you about my invention?"

"Dr. Pendarvis, I think. Oh no, it was Dr. Chester; he said you would be a great man some day."

"Dr. Chester will have to cultivate the habit of thinking before he speaks," he said, with a laugh, "If I can be a useful man, I shall be content."

"Is it better to be useful than to be great?" she questioned, navely.

"Oh, well, that all depends, I expect, on the meaning you attach to words," he answered, with a broad smile. "If a man is truly great, he is, of course, useful, while a man may be very useful without being great."

"Oh, then, I shall back Dr. Chester," she said, with a pretty shrug of her shoulders.

"You had better not," he said, soberly. "Not that it will matter, of course. For whether I win or lose, you cannot be affected by the one or the other."