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Berthelin and her progeny that she was in the presence of the Great. Capacity for awe was not in Mayme's independent soul. But she was interested and sympathetic. Here was a career worth saving! "Let's go over to the station-house," said she. "I know some of the cops." To the white building with the green lanterns they went. The shoplifting case, it appeared, had already been bailed out.
But the Bonnie Lassie shook her bonnie head privately and said that the fine-feathers development was a bad sign, and that if young Berthelin would obligingly run his seventeen-jeweled roadster off the Williamsburgh Bridge, with himself in it, much trouble might be saved for all concerned. If little Mayme were headed for trouble, she went to meet it with a smiling face.
I saw the Bonnie Lassie's eyelids quiver, but her face was cold and impassive as she turned to the visitor. "Mrs. Berthelin," said she, "you have made some very damaging statements, before witnesses, about Miss McCartney's character. What proof have you?" "Why, he wants to marry her!" almost yelled the mother. "She's trapped him." "That's another lie," said Mayme.
"Have you got him a job as a general in the army yet, ma'am?" inquired the Little Red Doctor suavely. It was quite lost upon Mrs. Berthelin. She informed us that a commission as Captain in the Quartermaster's Department was arranged for, and she expected to have the young officer assigned to New York so that he could live at home in the comfort and luxury suitable to his wealth and condition.
In the week following, Our Square was invaded. She descended upon us from the somber sumptuousness of a gigantic limousine, the majestic, the imposing, the formidable, the authoritative Mrs. S. Berthelin. We knew at once who she was, because she led, by the ear, as it were, her hopeful progeny, young David.
"Don't call me 'Ma," snapped the goaded Mrs. Berthelin. "And this is the girl?" She looked Mayme up and down. Mayme did the same by her and did it better. "I could give you a lorny-yette and beat you at the frozen-stare trick," said the irrepressible Mayme at the conclusion of the duel which ended in her favor. The Little Red Doctor gurgled.
But they won't take me." He bestowed a bitter glance on his twisted foot. "Come along." They went off together, while Mrs. Berthelin scandalized Our Square by an exhibition of hysterics involving language not at all in accord with the rich respectability of her apparel and her limousine. We waited at the Bonnie Lassie's for the Little Red Doctor's return. He came back alone.
Berthelin opened her exordium in a tone of high philippic, not even awaiting the formalities of introduction. But when I insisted upon these, and she learned that the Bonnie Lassie was Mrs. Cyrus Staten, she cringed. Despite a desire to keep out of the society columns quite as genuine as that of Mrs.
He bowed his head, murmured something, and gesticulated confusedly with the hand that he was free to use. "Look!" cried the old officer; "look, Berthelin; he denies the man's identity." "Do you hear that?" said the general, appealing to Trudaine. "Have you proofs to confute him? If you have, produce them instantly."
Furthermore, everything would be all right and there was little fear of publicity; the store itself would see to that. Vastly relieved and refreshed in spirit, David Berthelin began to take stock of his companion with growing interest. She was decidedly not pretty. Just as decidedly she was quaint and piquant and quite new to his jejune but also somewhat bored experience.
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