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On her own door-step Miss North stopped and listened, holding her breath for an outburst.... It came. A roar of laughter. Then silence. Mary North stood, motionless, in her own parlor; her shawl, hanging from one elbow, trailed behind her; her other glove had split; her bonnet was blown back and over one ear; her heart was pounding in her throat.
She rushed for a little box which she had converted into a sort of reliquary. She took out of it the half-burned cigarette, the old glove, the withered violets, and a visiting-card with his name, on which three unimportant lines had been written.
The woman in her was stronger than the Queen. It was nothing to her at this moment that she might have his life as easily as she had struck his face with her glove; this man had once shown the better part of himself to her, and the memory of it shamed her for his own sake now.
Parlin and Miss Louise talked about currants, and citron, and quite forgot such trifles as rag-bags. "Here's another big glove," said Dotty, "not the same color, but no matter; and here are some saddle-bags, Jennie. I'm going to be a doctor." "Saddle-bags, Dotty! those are pockets." Jennie took them from Miss Dimple's hands.
I wonder how often the executors of old college fellows, or of hard-faced bankers and bureaucrats, have been aggravated by finding in that most secret drawer, which ought to have held a codicil or a jewel, a tress, a glove, or a flower?
"Do you think I'm going now? Do you think you can send me away with a word like that fling me off like an old glove you who have belonged to me all these years? No, don't speak! You'd better not speak! If you dare to deny your love for me now, I believe I shall kill you! If you had been any other woman, I wouldn't have stopped to argue. But you are you. And I love you so."
He saw her, as she stood at her mother's side, a clear and gracious figure against the mist of things. She was in white to-night with just a lily in her hair, and it showed graciously in a dainty setting of green. An adorable tiny edge of arm peeped between sleeve and glove.
Sometimes, since his mornings were free, he rode down to the office with Lilly, eagerly insistent to pay her car fare and cram a return Subway ticket into the warm pink aperture of flesh where her glove clasped. Once he bought her a little spray of heather off a vender's tray. "Harry, you mustn't spend on me this way. You must begin to save your money for that right girl when she comes along."
"No, I will," cried Van, dropping Polly's hand. "You forget," said Percy quietly, "I hold the checks, I'll attend to it myself." He unclosed his brown traveling glove, and Van, at sight of them, turned back. "Go along, do, then," he cried; "I don't want to, I'm sure; I'd much rather stay with Polly.
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