The Parlor Car | Page 7

drawn closely. The
Porter goes out.
MR. RICHARDS, wheeling round so as to confront her: "I wish you
would speak to me half as kindly as you do to that darky, Lucy."
MISS GALBRAITH: "HE is a GENTLEMAN!"
MR. RICHARDS: "He is an urbane and well-informed nobleman. At
any rate, he's a man and a brother. But so am I." Miss Galbraith does
not reply, and after a pause Mr. Richards resumes. "Talking of
gentlemen, I recollect, once, coming up on the day-boat to
Poughkeepsie, there was a poor devil of a tipsy man kept following a
young fellow about, and annoying him to death--trying to fight him, as
a tipsy man will, and insisting that the young fellow had insulted him.
By and by he lost his balance and went overboard, and the other
jumped after him and fished him out." Sensation on the part of Miss
Galbraith, who stirs uneasily in her chair, looks out of the window, then
looks at Mr. Richards, and drops her head. "There was a young lady on
board, who had seen the whole thing--a very charming young lady
indeed, with pale blond hair growing very thick over her forehead, and
dark eyelashes to the sweetest blue eyes in the world. Well, this young
lady's papa was amongst those who came up to say civil things to the
young fellow when he got aboard again, and to ask the honor--he said
the HONOR--of his acquaintance. And when he came out of his
stateroom in dry clothes, this infatuated old gentleman was waiting for
him, and took him and introduced him to his wife and daughter; and the

daughter said, with tears in her eyes, and a perfectly intoxicating
impulsiveness, that it was the grandest and the most heroic and the
noblest thing that she had ever seen, and she should always be a better
girl for having seen it. Excuse me, Miss Galbraith, for troubling you
with these facts of a personal history, which, as you say, is a matter of
perfect indifference to you. The young fellow didn't think at the time he
had done anything extraordinary; but I don't suppose he DID expect to
live to have the same girl tell him he was no gentleman."
MISS GALBRAITH, wildly: "O Allen, Allen! You KNOW I think you
are a gentleman, and I always did!"
MR. RICHARDS, languidly: "Oh, I merely had your word for it, just
now, that you didn't." Tenderly, "Will you hear me, Lucy?"
MISS GALBRAITH, faintly: "Yes."
MR. RICHARDS: "Well, what is it I've done? Will you tell me if I
guess right?"
MISS GALBRAITH, with dignity: "I am in no humor for jesting, Allen.
And I can assure you that though I consent to hear what you have to say,
or ask, NOTHING will change my determination. All is over between
us."
MR. RICHARDS: "Yes, I understand that, perfectly. I am now asking
merely for general information. I do not expect you to relent, and, in
fact, I should consider it rather frivolous if you did. No. What I have
always admired in your character, Lucy, is a firm, logical consistency;
a clearness of mental vision that leaves no side of a subject unsearched;
and an unwavering constancy of purpose. You may say that these traits
are characteristic of ALL women; but they are pre-eminently
characteristic of you, Lucy." Miss Galbraith looks askance at him, to
make out whether he is in earnest or not; he continues, with a perfectly
serious air. "And I know now that if you're offended with me, it's for no
trivial cause." She stirs uncomfortably in her chair. What I have done I
can't imagine, but it must be something monstrous, since it has made
life with me appear so impossible that you are ready to fling away your
own happiness-- for I know you DID love me, Lucy--and destroy mine.
I will begin with the worst thing I can think of. Was it because I danced
so much with Fanny Watervliet?"
MISS GALBRAITH, indignantly: "How can you insult me by
supposing that I could be jealous of such a perfect little goose as that?

No, Allen! Whatever I think of you, I still respect you too much for
that."
MR. RICHARDS: "I'm glad to hear that there are yet depths to which
you think me incapable of descending, and that Miss Watervliet is one
of them. I will now take a little higher ground. Perhaps you think I
flirted with Mrs. Dawes. I thought, myself, that the thing might begin to
have that appearance, but I give you my word of honor that as soon as
the idea occurred to me, I dropped her--rather rudely, too. The trouble
was, don't you know, that I felt so perfectly safe with a MARRIED
friend of