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Updated: May 1, 2025
The woman slouching over the table looked more than ever like a bird of prey. "Very sure," Essie Tisdale answered, again in proud defiance. "Then of course you know that Van Lennop left Crowheart this morning?" She drawled the words in cruel enjoyment with her eyes fixed upon the girl's face. Her eyes shone malevolently as she saw it blanch. "Didn't he tell you he was going? I'm amazed."
There was really no doubt in her mind that she could marry Ogden Van Lennop if she really set about doing so. It was only of late that she had given the thought words. In the beginning when she had discovered his identity, the most she had hoped for was to be friends, for a friend of Van Lennop's importance might be useful.
She had the feeling that it was the climax of her career, that no more satisfying hour could come to her unless perhaps it was the day she married Ogden Van Lennop. And she owed nothing, she thought as she whirled dizzily in Mr. Terriberry's arms, to anyone but herself. Every victory, every step forward since she arrived penniless and unknown in Crowheart had been due to her brains and efforts.
When the door was closed behind her she paced the floor with excited strides. It was useless to attempt to hide from herself the fact that she was horribly, cravenly afraid of Ogden Van Lennop; for she recognized beneath his calm exterior a quality which inspired fear. She was afraid of him as an individual, afraid of his money and the power of his influence if he chose to use them, for Dr.
Van Lennop shook with silent laughter. A skinflint too mean to buy a drink! He had no notion of enlightening Crowheart in regard to himself because of the illuminating conversation he had overheard. The situation afforded him too much amusement and since Essie Tisdale liked him for himself and trusted him in the face of what was evidently Crowheart's opinion, nothing else mattered.
Van Lennop heard the stamp of Essie Tisdale's small foot upon the hard-trodden dooryard. "You needn't think you'll advance your own interests by calling him such names as that! Let me tell you I wouldn't marry you if you asked me a million, million times!" Van Lennop started.
He could not force himself and his love upon her. She knew her own mind. His conceit had led him into error. It was done. He opened the other telegram mechanically. It was from Prescott and partially in code. It was a long one for Prescott to send, but Van Lennop looked at it without interest. He would translate it at his leisure there was no hurry now the game had lost its zest.
The bartender was the first to arrive and Van Lennop was not far behind, while others, hastily dressed, followed. The Dago Duke gripped Van Lennop's hand in dreadful terror. "Don't let it come across that seam in the carpet! Don't let it come!" "I'll not; it shan't touch you; don't be afraid, old man." There was something wonderfully soothing in Van Lennop's quiet voice.
Van Lennop stood quite still and read it again, even to the unintelligible date-line. He felt suddenly lifeless, listless, as though he wanted to sit down. It was all over, then. She had received his letter and his telegram, and her reply to his offer of his love and himself was silence? It was not like her, but there seemed nothing more for him to do.
He spoke slowly and enunciated very carefully when he said "I knew Dr. Harpe had the instincts of a prying servant, but I scarcely thought she'd go as far as that." "Essie," Kincaid tapped her on the shoulder, "don't forget that your old Uncle Dick is here and waiting to be noticed." He laughed aloud at her confusion and said as he and Van Lennop shook each other's hand
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