The Vertical City | Page 9

been a bad,

weak woman, Alma, to be so afraid that maybe Leo Friedlander would
steal you away from me. We'll make it a double wedding, baby!"
"Mamma! Mamma! I'll never leave you."
"All right, then, so you won't think your new father and me want to get
rid of you, the first thing we'll pick out in our new home, he said it
himself to-night, 'is Alma's room.'"
"I tell you it's wrong. It's wrong!"
"The rest with Leo can come later, after I've proved to you for a little
while that I'm cured. Alma, don't cry! It's my cure. Just think, a good
man! A beautiful home to take my mind off--worry. He said to-night he
wants to spend a fortune, if necessary, to cure--my neuralgia."
"Oh, mamma! Mamma! if it were only--that!"
"Alma, if I promise on my--my life! I never felt the craving so little as I
do--now."
"You've said that before--and before."
"But never with such a wonderful reason. It's the beginning of a new
life. I know it. I'm cured!"
"Mamma, if I thought you meant it."
"I do. Alma, look at me. This very minute I've a real jumping case of
neuralgia. But I wouldn't have anything for it except the electric pad. I
feel fine. Strong. Alma, the bad times with me are over."
"Oh, mamma! Mamma, how I pray you're right."
"You'll thank God for the day that Louis Latz proposed to me. Why, I'd
rather cut off my right hand than marry a man who could ever live to
learn such a--thing about me."
"But it's not fair. We'll have to explain to him, dear, that we hope you're
cured now, but--"
"If you do--if you do--I'll kill myself! I won't live to bear that! You
don't want me cured. You want to get rid of me, to degrade me until I
kill myself! If I was ever anything else than what I am now--to Louis
Latz--anything but his ideal--Alma, you won't tell! Kill me, but don't
tell--don't tell!"
"Why, you know I wouldn't, sweetheart, if it is so terrible to you.
Never."
"Say it again."
"Never."
"As if it hasn't been terrible enough that you should have to know. But

it's over, Alma. Your bad times with me are finished. I'm cured."
There were no words that Miss Samstag could force through the choke
of her tears, so she sat cheek to her mother's cheek, the trembling she
could no longer control racing through her like a chill.
"Oh--how--I hope so!"
"I know so."
"But wait a little while, mamma--just a year."
"No! No!"
"A few months."
"No, he wants it soon. The sooner the better at our age. Alma, mamma's
cured! What happiness! Kiss me, darling. So help me God to keep my
promises to you! Cured, Alma, cured."
And so in the end, with a smile on her lips that belied almost to herself
the little run of fear through her heart, Alma's last kiss to her mother
that night was the long one of felicitation.
And because love, even the talk of it, is so gamy on the lips of woman
to woman, they lay in bed, heartbeat to heartbeat, the electric pad under
her pillow warm to the hurt of Mrs. Samstag's brow, and talked, these
two, deep into the stilliness of the hotel night.
"I'm going to be the best wife to him, Alma. You see, the woman that
marries Louis has to measure up to the grand ideas of her he got from
his mother."
"You were a good wife once, mamma. You'll be it again."
"That's another reason, Alma; it means my--cure. Living up to the ideas
of a good man."
"Mamma! Mamma! you can't backslide now--ever."
"My little baby, who's helped me through such bad times, it's your turn
now, Alma, to be care free like other girls."
"I'll never leave you, mamma, even if--he--Latz--shouldn't want me."
"He will, darling, and does! Those were his words. 'A room for Alma.'"
"I'll never leave you!"
"You will! Much as Louis and I want you with us every minute, we
won't stand in your way! That's another reason I'm so happy, Alma. I'm
not alone any more now. Leo's so crazy over you, just waiting for the
chance to--pop--"
"Shh--sh--h--h!"
"Don't tremble so, darling. Mamma knows. He told Mrs. Gronauer last

night when she was joking him to buy a ten-dollar carnation for the
Convalescent Home Bazaar, that he would only take one if it was white,
because little white flowers reminded him of Alma Samstag."
"Oh, mamma!"
"Say, it is as plain as the nose on your face. He can't keep his eyes off
you. He sells goods to Doctor Gronauer's clinic and he says the same
thing about him. It makes me so happy,