The Last Woman Part 13

"I think I'll ask you to excuse me, Mr. Morton," she said, making as if to rise. "This interview is not a pleasant one. You are not kind, or considerate."

He did not move from his position, as he replied, as calmly as she had spoken:

"I shall not go until I have finished. I came here to-night to tell you, again, that I love you. You need not resent the telling of it, for it can in no way offend you, or, at least, it should not. You told me, yesterday, that you had agreed to some sort of business transaction, as you called it, with some man whom you did not name, by which you are to become his wife. I told you then, and I repeat now, that, if you will but say you love this man, whoever he is, I'll hit the trail for Montana without a moment's delay, and you shall never be annoyed again by my Western training; so, answer me."

"I will not answer you." She looked him steadily in the eyes, and, all unconsciously to herself, she could not avoid giving expression to some small part of the admiration she felt for this daring, intrepid ranchman, who defied her so openly, in the library of her own home.

"Who is the man?" he demanded, sharply.

"Again, I will not answer you."

"I shall find it out, then, and, when I have discovered who he is, I shall go to him. Maybe, he will be able to answer the questions. If he refuses, by G.o.d, I'll make him answer!"

She started from her chair, appalled by the implied threat. She did not doubt that he meant every word of it.

"You would not dare do that!" she exclaimed. It was beyond her knowledge that any man should have the courage so far to transgress conventional usages. But he heard the word "dare," and applied to it the only meaning he had ever known it to possess. He laughed outright.

"Not dare?" he exclaimed; and he laughed again. "I would dare anything, and all things, in the mood I am in, just now."

Looking upon him, she believed what he said; and, strange to say, she was more pleased than outraged by his determined demeanor.

Nevertheless, she realized that she was face to face with an emergency which must be met promptly and finally, and so she left her chair, and drew herself to her full height, directly in front of him.

"Mr. Morton," she said, slowly, and coldly, "I have had occasion, once before, to refer to your training and to mine. We are as far apart as if we belonged to different races of mankind. If you have really loved me, which I doubt, I am sorry because of it, for I tell you, plainly and truly, that I do not, and cannot, respond to you. I have given my promise to another, and very shortly I shall be married. This sudden pa.s.sion for me that has come upon you, is an affair of the moment, which you will soon forget when you become convinced that it is impossible of fruition. I am the promised wife of another man, and even your Western training, which you have chosen sarcastically to refer to since I made my unfortunate remark about it, will tell you that, no matter what rights you believe you possess, you certainly have none whatever to compel me to listen to your declaration of love." Her manner underwent a sudden and marked change, as she continued rapidly, with a suggestion of moisture in her eyes: "Believe me, I am intensely sorry for the necessity of this scene between us. I do not, and I cannot, return the affection you so generously offer me; and, whether I love another, or do not--whether I have ever loved another, or have not--it would be the same, so far as you are concerned. I am not for you, and I can never be for you, no matter what may happen." She took a step nearer to him, and reached out her hand, while she added, with her brightest smile: "But I like you, very much, indeed. I should like to have you for a true, good friend. It would be one of the proud moments of my life, if I could know that I might rely upon you as such, and that you would not again transgress in the way you have done to-night. Will you take my hand and be my friend. Will you try and seek farther for someone who can appreciate the love you have offered to me? I need a friend just now, Richard Morton. Will you be that friend?"

For a time, he did not answer her. He stood quite still, staring into her eyes, and through them and seemingly beyond them, while his own face was hard, and set, and paler than she had ever seen it, before.

Presently, his lips relaxed their tension; the expression of his eyes softened, and he drew his right hand across his brow.

He took the hand that was extended toward him, and held it between both his own, and, for a full minute after that, he stood before her in silence, while he fought the hardest battle of his life. When he did speak, it was in an easy, careless drawl.

"I reckon you roped and tied me that time, Patricia," he said, smilingly. "You've got your brand on me, all right, but maybe the iron hasn't burnt quite as deep as it does sometimes; and, as you say, possibly there will come a day when we can burn another brand on top of it, so that the first one will never be recognized. Will I be your friend? Indeed, I will, and I'll ask you, if you please, to forgive and forget all my bad manners, and the harsh things I've said."

"It is not necessary to ask me that, Mr. Morton."

"Patricia, if you'll just call me d.i.c.k, like all the boys do, out on the ranch, and if you'll grant me the permission which I have never asked before, of addressing you as I have just now, it will make the whole thing a heap-sight easier. Will you do it?

"I'd much rather call you d.i.c.k than anything else," she told him, still permitting him to hold her hand clasped between his own.

He bent forward, nearer to her; and, although she perfectly understood what he intended to do, she did not flinch, or falter.

He touched his lips lightly to her forehead, and then, with a muttered, "G.o.d bless you, girl!" he turned quickly, and went out of the room, leaving Patricia Langdon once again alone with her thoughts.

CHAPTER X

MONDAY, THE THIRTEENTH

The monotonous, but not unpleasing voice of Malcolm Melvin began the reading of the stipulations in the contract to the three persons who were seated before him around the table in the lawyer's private office. The time was Monday morning, shortly after ten o'clock.

"This agreement, hereinafter made, between Roderick Duncan, of the City, County, and State of New York, party of the first part; Stephen Langdon, of the same place, party of the second part; and Patricia Langdon of the same place, party of the third part, as follows: First, the party of the first part--"

"Just wait a moment, Mr. Melvin, if you please," Duncan interrupted him. "If it is all the same to you, and to the other parties concerned in this transaction, I don't care to hear all that dry rot, you have written. If you will be so kind as simply to state in plain English what the stipulations are, it will answer quite as well for the others, and it will suit me a whole lot better."

"It is customary, Mr. Duncan, to listen carefully to a legal doc.u.ment one is about to sign with his name," said the lawyer, with a dry smile.

"I don't care a rap about that, Melvin; and you know I don't. The others know it, too."

"I think," said Patricia, quietly, "that the papers should be read, from beginning to end."

"Nonsense!" exclaimed her father; "and besides, Pat, I haven't time. I ought to be down-town, right now. Let Melvin get over with this foolish nonsense, as quickly as possible; and then, if you and Roderick will only kiss, and make up--"

Patricia interrupted him:

"Very well, Mr. Melvin," she said. "You may state the substance of the agreement."

The lawyer turned toward Duncan. There was a twinkle of amus.e.m.e.nt in his eyes, although his face remained perfectly calm and expressionless.

"According to these papers as I have drawn them, Mr. Duncan," he said, slowly, "you loan the sum of twenty million dollars to Stephen Langdon, accepting as security therefor, and in lieu of other collateral, the stated promise of Miss Langdon to become your wife.

She reserves to herself, the right to name the wedding-day, provided it be within a reasonable time."

"May I ask how Miss Langdon defines the words, a reasonable time?"

asked Duncan, speaking as deliberately as the lawyer had done. "As for the loan to Mr. Langdon--he already has that. But, the reasonable time: just what does that expression mean?"

"I suppose, during the season; say, within three, or six, months from date," replied the lawyer.

"That will do very well, thank you. You may now go on." Duncan was determined, that morning, to meet Patricia on her own ground.

"The loan you make to the party of the second part, to Mr. Langdon, is to be repaid to you at his convenience, and with the legal rate of interest, within one year from date. At the church where the wedding ceremony shall take place, and immediately before that event, you are to give to Miss Langdon, a cas.h.i.+er's check for ten-million dollars, which she will endorse and send to the bank, before the ceremony proceeds. It is Miss Langdon's wish to have her maiden name appear as the endors.e.m.e.nt on that check. Later, she will have the account transferred from Patricia Langdon to Patricia Duncan. You are--"

"Just one moment, again, Mr. Melvin." Duncan reached forward and pulled the papers toward him. "Will you please show me where I am to sign? What remains of the stipulations, I can hear at another time.

Unfortunately, at the present moment, I am in haste, and I happen to know that Mr. Langdon is very anxious to get away."

"Is it your habit to sign legal papers without reading them?" demanded Patricia, with just a little touch of resentment in her tone. She had rather prided herself upon the wording of this doc.u.ment, which she had so carefully dictated to Melvin, and it hurt her to think that her stipulations were pa.s.sed over so easily.

But the lawyer, who saw in the whole circ.u.mstance nothing but a huge joke, which would presently come to a pleasant end, had already pointed out to Duncan the places on the three papers where he was to put his signature, and the young man was signing them, rapidly. He did not reply until he had written his name the third time. Then, he left his chair, and with a low and somewhat derisive bow to his affianced wife, said:

"No, Patricia, it is not; but these circ.u.mstances are different from those in which one is usually called upon to sign doc.u.ments. I certainly should have no hesitation in accepting, without reserve, any conditions which you chose to insist upon, so long as those conditions, in the end, made you my wife. You may sign the papers at your leisure; but I shall ask you to excuse me, now." He bowed smilingly to her, shook hands with the lawyer, and called across the table to the banker:

"So long, Uncle Steve; I'll see you later." A moment afterward the door closed behind him.

"The whole thing looks to me like tomfoolery!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed the banker, as he drew the papers toward him, and signed them rapidly. "Patricia, you are the party of the third part, here, and you can sign them at your leisure. I've got to go, also. Melvin, you can send my copy of the contract direct to me, when it is ready."

"It is your turn now, Miss Langdon," said the lawyer, in his most professional tone, as soon as her father had gone. But, instead of signing, Patricia, for the first time since the beginning of this confused condition of affairs, lost her pride and became the emotional young woman that she really was.

Without a word of warning, she burst into a pa.s.sion of tears. Throwing her arms upon the table, she buried her face in them, and sobbed on and on, convulsively, vehemently, inconsolably.

The lawyer, stirred out of his professional calm by this human side of the cold and haughty young woman, placed one hand tenderly, if somewhat tentatively, upon her shoulder. For a time, he patted her gently, while he waited for her tempest to pa.s.s.