"Oh,mummy,it's so cold!Can't I please keep it on?"To let that coat off me was to give the whole thing away.My rig underneath,though good enough for your girl,Tom,on a holiday,wasn't just what they wear in the Square.And,d'ye know,you'll say it's silly,but I had a conviction that with that coat Ishould say good-by to the nerve I'd had since I got into the Bishop's carriage,--and from there into society.I let her take the hat,though,and I could see by the way she handled it that it was all right--the thing;her kind,you know.Oh,the girl Igot it from had good taste,all right.
I closed my eyes for a moment as I lay there and she stood stroking my hair.She must have thought I'd fallen asleep,for she turned to the Bishop,and holding out her hand,she said softly:
"My dear,dear Bishop,you are the best-hearted,the saintliest man on earth.Because you are so beautifully clean-souled yourself,you must pardon me.I am ashamed to say it,but I shall have no rest till I do.When I saw you in the carriage downtown,with that poor,demented child,I thought,for just a moment--oh,can you forgive me?It shows what an evil mind I have.But you,who know so well what Edward is,what my life has been with him,will see how much reason I have to be suspicious of all men!"I shook,I laughed so hard.What a corker her Edward must be!
See,Tom,poor old Mrs.Dowager up in the Square having the same devil's luck with her man as Molly Elliott down in the Alley has with hers.I wonder if you're all alike.No,for there's the Bishop.He had taken her hand sympathizingly,forgivingly,but his silence made me curious.I knew he wouldn't let the old lady believe for a moment I was luny,if once he could be sure himself that I wasn't.You lie,Tom Dorgan,he wouldn't!Well--But the poor baby,how could he expect to see through a game that had caught the Dowager herself?Still,I could hear him walking softly toward me,and I felt him looking keenly down at me long before I opened my eyes.
When I did,you should have seen him jump.Guilty he felt.
I could see the blood rush up under his clear,thin old skin,soft as a baby's,to find himself caught trying to spy out my secret.
I just looked,big-eyed,up at him.You know;the way Molly's kid does,when he wakes.I looked a long,long time,as though Iwas puzzled.
"Daddy,"I said slowly,sitting up."You--you are my daddy,ain't you?""Yes--yes,of course."It was the Dowager who got between him and me,hinting heavily at him with nods and frowns.But the dear old fellow only got pinker in the effort to look a lie and not say it.Still,he looked relieved.Evidently he thought I was luny all right,but that I had lucid intervals.I heard him whisper something like this to the Dowager just before the maid came in with tea for me.
Yes,Tom Dorgan,tea for Nancy Olden off a silver salver,out of a cup like a painted eggshell.My,but that almost floored me!
I was afraid I'd give myself dead away with all those little jars and jugs.So I said I wasn't hungry,though,Lord knows,I hadn't had anything to eat since early morning.But the Dowager sent the maid away and took the tray herself,operating all the jugs and pots for me,and then tried to feed me the tea.She was about as handy as Molly's little sister is with the baby--but I allowed myself to be coaxed,and drank it down.
Tea,Tom Dorgan.Ever taste tea?If you knew how to behave yourself in polite society,I'd give you a card to my friend,the Dowager,up in the Square.
How to get away!That was the thing that worried me.I'd just made up my mind to have a lucid interval,when cr-creak,the front door opened,and in walked--Tom,you're mighty cute--so cute you'll land us both behind bars some day--but you can't guess who came in on our little family party.Yes--oh,yes,you've met him.
Well,the old duffer whose watch was ticking inside my waist that very minute!Yes,sir,the same red-faced,big-necked fellow we'd spied getting full at the little station in the country.
Only,he was a bit mellower than when you grabbed his chain.
Well,he was Edward.
I almost dropped the cup when I saw him.The Dowager took it from me,saying:
"There,dear,don't be nervous.It's only--only--"She got lost.It couldn't be my daddy--the Bishop was that.But it was her husband,so who could it be?
"Evening,Bishop.Hello,Henrietta,back so soon from the opera?"roared Edward,in a big,husky voice.He'd had more since we saw him,but he walked straight as the Bishop himself,and he's a dear little ramrod."Ah!"--his eyes lit up at sight of me--"ah,Miss--Miss--of course,I've met the young lady,Henrietta,but hang me if I haven't forgotten her name.""Miss--Miss Murieson,"lied the old lady,glibly."A--a relative.""Why,mummy!"I said reproachfully.
"There--there.It's only a joke.Isn't it a joke,Edward?"she demanded,laughing uneasily.
"Joke?"he repeated with a hearty bellow of laughter."Best kind of a joke,I call it,to find so pretty a girl right in your own house,eh,Bishop?""Why does he call my father `Bishop',mummy?"I couldn't help it.The fun of hearing the Dowager lie and knowing the Bishop beside himself with the pain of deception was too much for me.I could see she didn't dare trust her Edward with my sad story.
"Ho!ho!The Bishop--that's good.No,my dear Miss Murieson,if this lady's your mother,why,I must be--at least,I ought to be,your father.As such,I'm going to have all the privileges of a parent--bless me,if I'm not."I don't suppose he'd have done it if he'd been sober,but there's no telling,when you remember the reputation the Dowager had given him.But he'd got no further than to put his arm around me when both the Bishop and the Dowager flew to the rescue.My,but they were shocked!I couldn't help wondering what they'd have done if Edward had happened to see the Bishop in the same sort of tableau earlier in the afternoon.
But I got a lucid interval just then,and distracted their attention.I stood for a moment,my head bent as though I was thinking deeply.
