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It may be that old Ellersly was wholly unconscious of his superciliousness, fancied he was treating me as if I were almost an equal; but I suspect he rather accentuated his natural manner, with the idea of impressing upon me that in our deal he was giving at least as much as I.
She hardly glanced at me before fastening sharp, suspicious eyes on Anita. "Mrs. Ball," said I, "this is Miss Ellersly." "Miss Ellersly!" she exclaimed, her face changing. And she advanced and took both Anita's hands. "Mr. Ball is so stupid," she went on, with that amusingly affected accent which is the "Sunday clothes" of speech. "I didn't catch the name, my dear," Joe stammered.
And I say that no old harpy presiding over a dive is more full of the venom of the hideous calculations of the market for flesh and blood than is a woman whose life is wrapped up in wealth and show. "If you wish it," I said, on impulse, to Miss Ellersly in a low voice, "I shall never try to see you again."
The story that rankles is the one these foes of mine set creeping, like a snake under the fallen leaves, everywhere, anywhere, unseen, without a trail. It has been whispered into every ear and it is, no doubt, widely believed that I deliberately put old Bromwell Ellersly "in a hole," and there tortured him until he consented to try to compel his daughter to marry me.
"I understand now!" said she. "Oh it is loathsome!" And her eyes blazed upon her mother. "Loathsome," I echoed, dashing at my opportunity. "If you are not merely a chattel and a decoy, if there is any womanhood, any self-respect in you, you will keep faith with me." "Anita!" cried Mrs. Ellersly. "Go to your room!"
Blacklock's social ambition is awakened and stimulated by his meeting with Anita Ellersly, the sister of a young society man who has been the recipient of many financial favors from Blacklock. The latter finally succeeds in his wish so far as to receive an invitation to dinner at the Ellerslys', which is given for reasons that are obvious.
I did not need to pretend coolness and confidence; my nerves were still in that curious state of tranquil exhilaration, and I felt master of myself and of the situation. Just as I was leaving, in came Tom Langdon with Sam Ellersly. Tom's face was a laughable exhibit of embarrassment. Sam really, I felt sorry for him.
I shall never forget the smallest detail of that dinner it was a purely "family" affair, only the Ellerslys and I. I can feel now the oppressive atmosphere, the look as of impending sacrilege upon the faces of the old servants; I can see Mrs. Ellersly trying to condescend to be "gracious," and treating me as if I were some sort of museum freak or menagerie exhibit. I can see Anita.
But it disappeared, gave place to a look of nervous alarm, of terror even, at the rustling, or, rather, bustling, of skirts in the hall there was war in the very sound, and I felt it. Mrs. Ellersly appeared, bearing her husband as a dejected trailer invisibly but firmly coupled. She acknowledged my salutation with a stiff-necked nod, ignored my extended hand.
Ellersly," said I. "Your daughter has consented to marry me." Instead of speaking, Mrs. Ellersly began to cry real tears. And for a moment I thought there was a real heart inside of her somewhere. But when she spoke, that delusion vanished. "You must forgive me, Mr. Blacklock," she said in her hard, smooth, politic voice. "It is the shock of realizing I'm about to lose my daughter."
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