Henry C. Rowland

“ Jerry understood suddenly what had puzzled him considerably—to wit, Mr. Arnold's ready acquiescence in his daughter's marriage to a man who, though of good social position, had so little to offer in a material way.
“Do you think me very cold-blooded, Jerry?” Alison asked, then added quickly: “No, I'll withdraw that question. You're such an honest old dear, and I want that we should part friends.”
“A girl has got to consider her future in these uncertain days,” said Jerome oracularly, “especially a girl de luxe like you.” ”

“ He glanced sharply at his daughter.
“I never had much confidence in young Crandall,” said he, “but it's for you to decide.”
“I've done so, Papa,” said Alison. “Jerry and I agree that our marriage was a great mistake. We've never been compatible temperamentally, and I must admit I don't think a girl brought up as I have been, ought ever to marry a poor man, especially”—she looked with meaning at her father, who flushed beneath her knowing gaze—“when her male parent is still young and handsome and a widower.”
“Come, come, daughter,” Mr. Arnold interrupted gruffly. ”

“ Moreover I am not at all sure but what I would rather be here in this taxi with you.”
“I think you had better let me out,” said Sylvia. “An annulment is better than a divorce with alimony and a former sweetheart named as co-respondent. You could not afford the alimony and I could not afford the scandal. But first tell me what was in the note?”
“Not until you tell me your decision. What would you have done?”
Sylvia pondered for a moment. Jerome watched her anxiously. He had once got nearly as far with Sylvia as he had with Alison, but circumstances had interfered. ”

“ Alison laughed. “That's a happy thought. You are a good sport, Jerry.”
JEROME told the driver to go to the Metropolitan Building. As the taxi moved away, Alison, seized with a sudden contrition, laid her hand upon his arm.
“You really are a dear, Jerry. I've been a cat. But honestly, don't you think that this marriage of ours was foredoomed to failure?”
“I'm afraid so, Alison. Even without Dick, I doubt that it would have been a brilliant success.” ”

“ Mr. Arnold, with an appearance of greater relief than he actually felt, offered his hand, which Jerome took in a perfunctory and slightly absent-minded way. “Let us hope,” said Mr. Arnold, “that matrimony may permanently remove these temperamental infelicities.”
Jerome went out with a heart like lead and returned immediately to the hotel, where his first act was to call up Sylvia.
“It's Jerry,” said he unsteadily. “Forgive me, Sylvia. I have just had a talk with Mr. Arnold. Alison retracts her statement of yesterday, and there seems no way out of it.” ”

“ It told of an intense covetousness not alone for money nor for the man, but toward the combination of the two. In fairness to Alison it may be said that money alone had failed to bind her, and Jerome's own case was the nearest in which she had ever come to surrendering herself to the man alone. ”

“ Arnold.
“Very well, sir,” Jerome answered. “In that case there seems nothing more to be said.”
The blood surged into the lawyer's face. “There is a great deal more to be said, young man. You persuade my daughter to marry you, which she does—not, I may say, entirely with my approval. While your connections may be good, we know actually very little about you beyond the fact that you are said to be an architect of some promise and have a good record. Your earnings are small, while the expectations of my daughter are considerable. ”

“ But he was now given no time to weigh the problem, for Jerome turned to him and asked with a certain grimness:
“Then Alison wishes to consider the incident as closed, sir?”
“Yes,” answered the lawyer. “She is waiting to learn the result of my interview with you; so if you feel justified, you have only to call for her with your luggage and carry out your original plans. I can send a clerk to secure the reservations and meet you at the station with the tickets.”
“Very well, sir,” said Jerome. “No doubt we have both been too hasty. ”

“ The longest-living author of this work died in 1933, so this work is in the public domain in countries and areas where the copyright term is the author's life plus 90 years or less. This work may be in the public domain in countries and areas with longer native copyright terms that apply the rule of the shorter term to foreign works. ”