A Soldier of the Legion | Page 4

shall
never grow tired of your bargain. For it is a bargain, isn't it? From the
minute this ring is on your finger you're engaged to me."
"What will your beautiful mother say?" asked Billie, hanging back
daintily, and doing charming things with her eyelashes.
"Oh, she'll be surprised at first," Max had to admit. "You see, she's so
young herself and such a great beauty, it must be hard for her to realize
she's got a son who has grown up to be a man. I used to think she was
the most exquisite creature on earth, but now----"
His words broke off, and he looked up from the gleaming line of
gold-and-black lashes. An orderly had come quickly and almost
noiselessly to him. "For you, Lieutenant," the man announced with a
salute, holding out a telegram.
"May I?" murmured Doran, and perfunctorily opened the envelope.
Billie went on gazing at the ring. She was faintly annoyed at the delay,
for she was anxious to see how the blue diamond would look on her
finger, and Max had asked to wish it on. The lights in the stone were so

fascinating, however, that for an instant she forgot the interruption.
Then, sensitive to all that was dramatic, something in the quality of
Max Doran's silence struck her. She felt suddenly surrounded by a
chilling atmosphere which seemed to shut her and Max away from the
dancers, away from music and life, as if a thick glass case had been let
down over them both. She glanced up quickly. No wonder she had felt
so cold. Doran's face looked frozen. His eyes were still fixed on the
telegram, though there had been time for him to read it over and over
again. He was so lost in the news it had brought that he had forgotten
even her--forgotten her in the moment when she had been consenting to
a formal engagement, she, the illusive, the vainly desired one, run after
just to the foot of her unclimbable mountain by the nimblest, the richest,
everywhere!
Her small soul was stirred to resentment. She wanted to punish Max
Doran for daring to neglect her at such a time, even for a few seconds;
but a half-angry, half-frightened study of the dark, absorbed face
changed her mood. No man could look like that unless something awful
had happened.
What, that was awful, could happen to Max Doran? Why, he could lose
all his money!
Billie's heart leaped, and then seemed to fall back heavily in the lovely
bosom sheathed like a lily with a film of sparkling dew. Would he ever
speak? She could not wait. Besides, it was right to be sympathetic.
"Max, what is it--dear Max?" she whispered in the honey-sweet voice
of Gaëta in "Girls' Love."
He started, and waked up. "It's my mother. She's been hurt," he said.
"My God, I must go at once!"
Almost, Billie sighed out her intense relief in words; but she had just
presence of mind and self-control enough to hold them back. Gently
she took the telegram from him, and he let her do it. Meanwhile,
however, she had slipped the ring on to her own finger--but not the
engaged finger. Evidently this was no time for an announcement, or
congratulations and sensations. But it was just as well to have the blue

diamond safe on one's hand, even if it were the right hand instead of the
left.
* * * * *
"'Your mother dangerously injured in motor accident,'" she read.
"'Asking to see you. Come without delay. Reeves.'"
* * * * *
"Oh, how very sad!" breathed Billie. "How awful if she should be
disfigured! But I do hope not."
Doran did not remember to thank his love for her solicitude. He got up,
not frozen now, but a little dazed. It occurred to Billie that he had never
looked so handsome, so much a man. She felt that he was gathering
himself together. "I'll telephone to Omallaha for a special train to
connect with the limited at Chicago," he said. "By the time I can see the
Colonel and get off it ought to be ready. Yes, I ought to catch the
limited that way. It's awful to leave you like this, but I must. I'll take
you to your aunt, and--who's got the next dance with you?"
"Major Naylor," she answered, slightly injured, for not ten minutes ago
he had been looking at her card. He ought to have remembered every
name on it and in the right order.
"Well, he'll come to you in a minute. Trust him not to lose a second!
And--you'll write to me?"
"Of course; you'll wire as soon as you can, how your mother is--and
everything? On Monday I shall be back in