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Easterly in Mrs. Vanderpool's parlor, and that gentleman was annoyed at the news. "I especially picked out this Alwyn because he was Southern and tractable, and seemed to have sense enough to know how to say well what we wanted to say." "When, as a matter of fact," drawled Mrs. Vanderpool, "he was simply honest." "The South won't stand it," Cresswell decisively affirmed. "Well " began Mr.
"Where have you been?" she asked. "I've been waiting." "I'm sorry but I've been converted." And she told her story. "Pshaw, Zora!" Mrs. Vanderpool uttered impatiently. "He's a fakir." "Maybe," said Zora serenely and quietly; "but he brought the Word." "Zora, don't talk cant; it isn't worthy of your intelligence." "It was more than intelligent it was true." "Zora listen, child!
A group of passengers in the main saloon was discussing, more or less stealthily, Monty's "misdemeanors," when Reggy Vanderpool sauntered lazily in, his face displaying the only sign of interest it had shown in days. "Funny predicament I was just in," he drawled. "I want to ask what a fellow should have done under the circumstances."
Vanderpool was curious as to the cause of Cresswell's anger. It was so genuine that it needed explanation. "Are kisses illegal here?" she asked before the horses started, turning the battery of her eyes full upon him. But Cresswell had himself well in hand. "No," he said. "But the girl is notorious." On the lovers the words fell like a blow.
But she had not the slightest inclination to attempt it, and she said aloud, half mockingly: "You are right, Zora. I promised and I lied. Liars have no place in heaven and heaven is doubtless a beautiful place but oh, Zora! you haven't seen Paris!" Two months later they parted simply, knowing well it was forever. Mrs. Vanderpool wrote a check. "Use this in your work," she said.
Upon her as yet had come no blight of Broadway, though she shrank perceptibly when the partially bald one laid his hand on her slender wrist as she resumed her seat. Food and wine were brought. Vera Vanderpool drank, with a pretty flourish of her glass. Now the two cameras were moved forward for close-ups. The older man was caught leering at Vera.
"Will you run away?" "Indeed I will." "When?" "Why should I tell you, if you will not go with me?" "Well, I want to be off with you, but how can I?" "Easy enough. But I will see you to-morrow night, and we will talk it over. It is time to go home." "I must see Dick Vanderpool, and find out where the text was, so that I can tell the old folks."
Then the comparisons became infinite, endless; the world stretched on and on until it seemed mere distance, and she suddenly realized how vast a thing it was and spoke. Mrs. Vanderpool was amused. "It's much smaller than one would think," she responded. When they came to Atlanta Zora stared and wrinkled her brows. It was her first large city.
"And criticise the party?" asked Miss Wynn. "It would take strong influence to pull him through." "And if that strong influence were found?" said Mrs. Vanderpool thoughtfully. "It would surely involve some other important concession to the South." Mrs. Vanderpool looked up, and an interjection hovered on her lips.
Cresswell forgot two pitfalls: the cleft between the old Southern aristocracy and the pushing new Southerners; and above all, her own Northern birth and presumably pro-Negro sympathies. What Mrs. Cresswell forgot Mrs. Vanderpool sensed unerringly. She had heard with uneasiness of Cresswell's renewed candidacy for the Paris ambassadorship, and she set herself to block it. She had worked hard.
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