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"As to money, I have only my two hands and that old mortgaged quadrangle of prairie sod out West. But if culture like Fenneben's might win Elinor Wream, God help me to win it." Up in the library a week later Professor Burgess came in while Dennie Saxon was putting the books in order.
Burgess wanted to marry Norrie Wream, and he wanted her to have all the good things of life which in her simple rearing had been denied her. The heritage from his father's estate included certain trust funds ambiguously bestowed by an eccentric English ancestor upon someone who had come West not long before his death.
"First, Elinor Wream, what Dean Funnybone calls 'Norrie, is heading the bunch that's going to shower us with roses tomorrow, if we win. And you know blamed well we'll win. They came in from Kansas City on the limited, just now, the roses did. The shower's predicted for tomorrow P. M." A sudden glow lighted Vic's stern face, and there was no savage gleam in his eyes now.
Fenneben read the whole story in the words and manner of the answer, and he smiled grimly as he thought of Burgess and of the conflict of Wream against Wream if Elinor and his brother Joshua ever came to the clash of arms. But he was too weak now to direct matters.
"Don't do it, Miss Wream," Vincent Burgess pleaded. Elinor looked from the one to the other, and the very magnetism of power called her. "I mean to try, anyhow," she declared. "Will you pick me up if I fall, Victor?" "Well, I wouldn't hardly go away and leave you to perish miserably," Vic assured her, and they were off together.
Burgess had meant only to discipline Burleigh, but it was too late for that now. The rotunda was very quiet. Everybody was down on the field waiting impatiently for the game to begin. Burgess was also impatient. There was a seat waiting for him beside Elinor Wream.
All the pleasures of popularity were his this evening, for he was young himself, he dressed well, and he had the grace of a gentleman. The enjoyment of the day gave him a thrill of surprise. He was already dropping the viewpoint of Dr. Joshua Wream for Dean Fenneben's angle of vision. And in these picturesque surroundings he forgot about the weather and the prudence of getting home early.
With no effort to conceal matters, except the fact that the trust funds had first belonged to his own sister and brother-in-law, he explained to Fenneben the line of events connecting him with Victor Burleigh. "And, Dr. Fenneben, I must speak of a matter I have never touched upon with you before. It was agreed between Dr. Wream and myself that I should become his nephew by marriage.
Presently Elinor Wream came around the north angle of the building, hesitated a little, then walked straight to the steps. "Good afternoon, Victor," she said. Burleigh looked up, glad then of his months of discipline and self-control.
So the exclamations ran. "Now, Norrie Wream, cross your heart, hope you may die, if big, handsome Victor Burleigh had his corners knocked off, and he was sandpapered down a little, and had money, wouldn't you feel a whole lot different about him, Norrie?" "I certainly would. I couldn't help it." Norrie's eyes were shining and her cheeks were pink as peach blossoms.
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