A Husband by Proxy | Page 8

to toe. He, too, was in mask. He
joined in the laughter with the others.
Garrison "found himself" with admirable presence of mind.
"My one regret is that I may not remain," he said, with a bow to the

ladies. "I might also regret having entered the wrong house, but your
reception renders such an emotion impossible."
He bowed himself out with commendable grace, and the bold
masquerader threw kisses as he went. Amused, quite as much as
annoyed, at his blunder, he made himself ready as best he might for
another adventure, climbed the steps of the dwelling next at hand, and
once more rang the bell.
Almost immediately the dark hall was lighted by the switching on of
lights. Then the door was opened, and Garrison beheld a squint-eyed,
thin-lipped old man, who scowled upon him and remained there,
barring his way.
"Good evening--is my wife at home--Mrs. Fairfax?" said Garrison,
stepping in. "I wired her----"
"Jerold!" cried a voice, as the girl in the party-house had done. But this
was Dorothy, half-way down the stairs, running toward him eagerly,
and dressed in most exquisite taste.
Briskly stepping forward, ready with the rôle he had rehearsed, he
caught her in his arms as she came to the bottom of the stairs, and she
kissed him like a sweet young wife, obeying the impulse of her nature.
"Oh, Jerold, I'm so glad!" she said. "I don't see why you have to go
away at nine!"
She was radiant with blushes.
He recognized a cue.
"And how's the dearest little girl in all the world?" he said, handing her
the box of confections. "I didn't think I'd be able to make it, till I wired.
While this bit of important business lasts we must do the best we can."
He had thrown his arm about her carelessly. She moved away with a
natural gesture towards the man who had opened the door.

"Oh, Jerold, this is my Uncle Sykey--Mr. Robinson," she said. "He and
Aunt Jill have come to pay me a visit. We must all go upstairs to the
parlor."
She was pale with excitement, but her acting was perfect.
Garrison turned to the narrow-eyed old man, who was scowling darkly
upon him.
"I'm delighted to meet you," he said, extending his hand.
"Um! Thank you," said Robinson, refusing his hand. "Extraordinary
honeymoon you're giving my niece, Mr. Fairfax."
His manner nettled Garrison, who could not possibly have gauged the
depth of the old man's dislike, even hatred, conceived against him
simply as Dorothy's husband.
A greeting so utterly uncordial made unlooked-for demands upon his
wits.
"The present arrangement will not endure very long," he said
significantly. "In the meantime, if Dorothy is satisfied there seems to be
no occasion for anyone else to feel distressed."
"If that's intended as a fling at me----" started Robinson, but Dorothy
interrupted.
"Please come upstairs," she said, laying her hand for a moment on
Garrison's shoulder; and then she ran up lightly, looking back with all
the smiles of perfect art.
Garrison read it as an invitation to a private confidence, much needed
to put him properly on guard. He bounded up as if in hot pursuit,
leaving her uncle down there by the door.
She fled to the end of the upper hall, near a door that was closed.
Garrison had lost no space behind her. She turned a white, tense face as
she came to a halt.

"Be careful, please," she whispered. "Some of my relatives appeared
here unexpectedly this afternoon. I had to wire on that account. Get
away just as soon as you can. You are merely passing through the city.
You must write me daily letters while they are here--and--don't forget
who you are supposed to be!"
She was radiant again with blushes. Garrison was almost dazzled by
her beauty. What reply he might have made was interrupted. Dorothy
caught him by the hand, like a fond young bride, as her uncle came
rapidly up the stairs. The door was opened at his elbow by a
white-haired, almost "bearded" woman, large, sharp-sighted, and ugly,
with many signs of both inquisitiveness and acquisitiveness upon her.
"So, that's your Mr. Fairfax," she said to Dorothy. "Come in here till I
see what you're like."
Dorothy had again taken Garrison's arm. She led him forward.
"This is Aunt Jill," she said, by way of introduction and explanation.
"Aunty, this is my husband, Jerold."
Aunt Jill had backed away from the door to let them enter. Garrison
realized at once that Dorothy's marriage had excited much antagonism
in the breasts of both these relatives. A sudden accession of boldness
came upon him, in his plan to protect the girl. He entered the room and
faced the woman calmly.
"I'm glad to meet you," he