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Updated: June 9, 2025
There were two items of news that interested her: Burgeman, senior, was critically ill; he had been ill for some time, but there had been no cause for apprehension until the last twenty-four hours; and Marjorie Schuyler had left for San Francisco on the way to China. She was to be gone indefinitely. "The heathen idols and the laundrymen are welcome to her," growled Patsy, maliciously.
"If luck will only turn stage-manager," she thought, "and put Billy Burgeman in the center of the scene handy, why, I'll promise not to murder my lines or play under." It was not luck, however, but chance, still pulling the wires; and accordingly he managed Patsy's entrance as he wished.
Burgeman, senior, had offered only one remark to the director, given cynically with a nervous jerking of the shoulders and twitching of the hands: "He was needing pocket-money, a small sum to keep him in shoe-laces and collar-buttons, I dare say. That's the way rich men's sons keep their fathers' incomes from getting too cumbersome."
"The tinker's a wonder entirely," she said to herself; "but I would like to be knowing, did he or did the shopkeeper do the choosing?" Then she remembered the thing above all others that she needed to know, and swung about on the stool to address the quorum. "I say can you tell me where I'd be likely to find a person by the name of Bil William Burgeman?" "That rich feller's boy?" Patsy nodded.
Sure, I feel like a mule, just, on a treadmill, with Billy Burgeman in the hopper." A feeling of utter helplessness took possession of her; it was as if her experiences, her actions, her very words and emotions, were controlled by an unseen power.
Shall I bring them out here or wheel you inside, sir?" "Inside!" Burgeman senior almost shouted it. Then he turned to Patsy and there was more than mere curiosity in his voice: "Who are you?" "No one at all, just; a laggard by the roadside," she repeated, wistfully. And then she added in her own Donegal: "But don't ye let the lagging count for naught. Promise me that!"
Why in the name of reason didn't I give them to him and stop this sleuth business before it really gets her into trouble? Of all the idiotic senseless " and, leaning on the pilgrim staff, he slowly hobbled in the same direction he had given the man. One last piece of news concerning Billy Burgeman came to Patsy before she left Arden that afternoon.
As transmitters of gossip they were more than usually concerned, for had not the butler at one time served in the house of Burgeman, and the maid dusted next door? Therefore every item of news was well ripened before it dropped from either tongue, and Patsy gathered them in with eager ears.
The last date on her calendar was the authorized announcement of her engagement to young Burgeman. Hence the shimmering samples and the relative values of October and June for a wedding journey. And the world knew more than these things concerning Marjorie Schuyler. It knew that she was beautiful, of regal bearing and distinguished manner.
Those are only cures for the bodily necessities and ills that money brings on a man: the over-feeding and the over-drinking and the under-living. But what comforts would they bring to a troubled mind and a pinched heart? Tell me that!" "So! You would prefer to be poor more pastorally poetic?" Burgeman sneered. "More comfortable," corrected Patsy.
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