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Updated: June 15, 2025
Mildred, lifting her eyes, saw by way of a mirrored section of the enormous sideboard the English butler surveying master and guests with slowly moving, sneering glance of ineffable contempt. In the drawing-room again Mildred, requested by Siddall and ordered by Presbury, sang a little French song and then at the urging of Siddall "Annie Laurie." Siddall was wiping his eyes when she turned around.
Said Presbury: "I didn't deceive you, did I, General?" "She's entirely satisfactory," replied Siddall. "I'm going to make careful inquiries about her character and her health. If those things prove to be all right I'm ready to go ahead." "Then the thing's settled," said Presbury. "She's all that a lady should be. And except a cold now and then she never has anything the matter with her.
And he's too shrewd not to be aware that his choice is limited." "You can't frighten me," said Mildred, with a radiant, coquettish smile for practice. "Nothing could frighten me." "I'm not trying," replied Presbury. "Nor will Siddall frighten you. A woman who's after a bill-payer can stomach anything." "Or a man," said Mildred.
That's why you looked up my hus General Siddall and got ready for him. That's why you saved me to-day. You are a very tender-hearted and generous man and you hide it as you do everything else about yourself." He was looking off into space from the depths of the easy chair, a mocking smile on his classical, impassive face.
Harding continued: "He also instructed me to say something about his former his experiences. The first Mrs. Siddall he married when he was very young and poor. As he grew rich, she became madly extravagant. And as they had started on a basis on which she had free access to his money he could not check her.
She led him along, he docilely and unsuspectingly following. She brought him up to where it seemed to her impossible for any human being endowed with the ordinary faculties to fail to see what was so plainly in view. All in vain. General William Siddall gazed placidly and saw nothing.
What a come-down! What a degradation! It was as bad in its way as being the wife of General Siddall. And she was to do this, in preference to marrying Stanley Baird. "You will be paid, of course, during rehearsal; that is, as long as we are taking your time. Fifty dollars a week is about as much as we can afford."
She stood up, clenched her hands, struck them together, struck them against her temples, crossed the room swiftly, flung herself down upon a sofa, and burst into tears. Presbury and his wife entered. Siddall was standing, looking after Mildred with a grin. He winked at Presbury and said: "I guess we gave her too much of that wine. It's all old and stronger than you'd think."
But Siddall in his soberest moment would have been slow to admit a suspicion that any of the human race, which he regarded as on its knees before him, was venturing to poke fun at him. Drunk as he now was, the openest sarcasm would have been accepted as a compliment.
"You know how wickedly they lie about anyone who has anything." "I should like to read a full account of General Siddall," said Mildred reflectively; "just to satisfy my curiosity." Mrs. Presbury made no reply. Presbury had decided that it was best to make no advance, but to wait until they heard from Siddall. He let a week, ten days, go by; then his impatience got the better of his shrewdness.
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