A Husband by Proxy | Page 4

in typewritten form. He was
too engrossed to tear it open, and laid them both upon the table.
"If I took this up," he presently resumed, "I should be obliged to know
something more about it. For instance, when were we supposed to have
been married?"
"On the 10th of last month," she answered promptly.
"Oh!" said he. "And, in case of necessity, how should we prove it?"
"By my wedding certificate," she told him calmly.
His astonishment increased.
"Then you were actually married, over a month ago?"
"I have the certificate. Isn't that sufficient?" she replied evasively.
"Well--I suppose it is--for this sort of an arrangement," he agreed. "Of
course some man's name must appear in the document. I should be
obliged, I presume, to adopt his name as part of the arrangement?"
"Certainly," she said. "I told you I came into your office because your
name is Jerold."
"Exactly," he mused. "The name I'd assume is Jerold Fairfax?"
She nodded, watching him keenly.
"It's a good enough name," said Garrison.
He paced up and down the floor in silence a number of times. Mrs.
Fairfax watched him in apparent calm.
"This is a great temptation," he admitted. "I should like to earn the fee
you have mentioned, Miss Booth--Mrs. Fairfax, but----"

He halted.
"Well?"
"I don't exactly like the look of it, to be frank," he confessed. "I don't
know you, and you don't know me. I am not informed whether you are
really married or not. If you are, and the man---- You have no desire to
enlighten me on these matters. Can you tell me why you wish to
pretend that I am your husband?"
"I do not wish to discuss that aspect of the arrangement at present," she
said. "It is purely a business proposition that should last no more than a
month or two at most, and then terminate forever. I would prefer to
have you remain out of town as much as possible."
"A great many haphazard deductions present themselves to my mind,"
he said, "but all are doubtless inaccurate. I have no morbid curiosity
concerning your affairs, but this thing would involve me almost as
much as yourself, by its very nature."
His brows were knitted in indecision.
There was silence again between them. His visitor presently said:
"If I could offer you more than the five hundred dollars, I would gladly
do so."
"Oh, the fee is large enough, for up to date I have had no employment
or even a prospect of work," said Garrison. "I hope you will not be
offended when I say that I have recently become a cautious man."
"I know how strange it appears for me to come here with this
extraordinary request," agreed Mrs. Fairfax. "I hardly know how I have
done so. But there was no one to help me. I hope you will not consider
the matter for another moment if you feel that either of us cannot trust
the other. In a way, I am placing my honor in your keeping far more
than you are placing yourself in charge of mine."

Garrison looked at her steadily, and something akin to
sympathy--something that burned like wine of romance in his
blood--with zest of adventure and a surge of generosity toward this
unknown girl--tingled in all his being. Something in her helplessness
appealed to his innate chivalry.
Calmly, however, he took a new estimate of her character,
notwithstanding the fact that his first, most reliable impression had
been entirely in her favor.
"Well," he said, after a moment, "it's a blind game for me, but I think
I'll accept your offer. When do you wish me to begin my services?"
"I should like to notify my lawyer as soon as possible," answered Mrs.
Fairfax, frankly relieved by his decision. "He may regard the fact that
he was not sooner notified as a little peculiar."
"Practically you wish me to assume my rôle at once," commented
Garrison. "What is your lawyer's name?"
"Mr. Stephen Trowbridge."
Garrison took up that much-addressed letter, returned by the post, and
passed it across the table. The one fairly legible line on its surface read:
STEPHEN TROWBRIDGE, ESQ.
"I think that must be the same individual," he said. "I sent out
announcements of my business and presence here to nearly every
lawyer in the State. This envelope has been readdressed, as you observe,
but it has never reached its destination. Is that your man?"
Mrs. Fairfax examined the missive.
"Yes," she said, "I think so. Do you wish his present address?"
"If you please," answered Garrison. "I shall take the liberty of steaming
this open and removing its contents, after which I will place an
antedated letter or notification of the--our marriage--written by

yourself--in the envelope, redirect it, and send it