Louis Joseph Vance

“ Peter's mind diverged at a tangent somewhat startling. "Hang an uncle who's got to go and die and leave a fellow money!" grumbled the ungrateful cub.
If Miss Gaylord replied, her words were drowned by the banging of the door, as it opened to admit a puff of smoke, a shower of cinders, and somebody in a blue uniform.
"Tickets, please!"
"It isn't," Peter mourned, "it isn't as if I didn't love you with all my heart, Mary—"
"Peter!"
"—Nor as if you didn't love me. I dare you to say you don't love me."
"Tickets, please!"
"What's the odds what people think?" reasoned Peter rebelliously. ”

“ Presently that died, and for a little time a peaceful silence reigned in Vallombrosa Terrace. In the main hall of the model cottage two young people stared at each other across a splash of sunlight that lay like a pool of molten gold upon the imitation parquetry of the floor: a young woman in whose eyes indignation blazed in competition with an all but overpowering impulse to give way to laughter, and a young man with a sober expression and eyes in which dwelt repentance and longing. For a little, neither spoke; and it was Peter who finally broke the tension of constraint.
"Mary." ”

“ In truth, they were but hazily conscious of anything in the world but their two selves—and this, although fifteen minutes' talk had brought Mary Gaylord to the verge of tears and plunged Peter Holly into a humor half sulky and half exasperated.
"I should think you'd try to be reasonable, Mary," he complained. "I don't see what earthly difference it makes."
"It makes every possible difference," declared Miss Gaylord with a manner of finality that would have been more convincing had her tone been less tremulous. ”

“ On her cross-town walk every breath she inhaled had been saturated with the heady essence of the world's immortal youth, and now spring was tugging at her heartstrings, loosing a surge of memories poignantly dear—of home; of the elm-arched village street; of lush meadow and purling brook; of long, still days dream-like in the hot hush of summer; of youth—her youth that lay such a little way behind her, yet so irrevocably far ”

“ He noticed that Miss Gaylord was not paying strict attention to him, and seemed put out. "Mary," he demanded severely, "what are you thinking about?"
"There's some one coming," replied Mary.
She was staring at that portion of the scenery which lay behind Peter. He faced about, to discover a brisk and showy motor-car in the act of hurdling the tracks. Peter's jaw dropped. From what quarter of the skies could it have fallen? A second sweeping scrutiny revealed to him the existence of a small building decorated with a large sign which bore the single word "Office." ”

“ A man of your caliber, Mr. Holly, is a credit even to Vallombrosa Terrace, the Queen City of Suburbia—as I shall say in my next ad. And," he added, turning in unquenchable enthusiasm to Miss Gaylord, "you, Mrs. Holly—"
"I am not Mrs. Holly," interjected the girl, abruptly desperate.
"I beg pardon." A second time Mr. Hanks permitted it to become known that he was thunderstruck. "Not Mrs. Holly!" he cried, stepping back and glancing from Peter to Miss Gaylord.
Peter, crushed, sheepishly hung his head. Mary held hers a shade higher. ”

“ He looked up at the bulletin over track six, caught the name of the first stop, and dashed into the waiting-room, wherefrom he as hastily popped out, some seconds later— with a ticket; and in the nick of time. The platform gates closed behind his coat-tails as he sped after the moving train, already half out of the shed.
He caught it. Very likely he would have caught it had his handicap been twice as heavy. He was a young man of an alert, determined, sanguine habit, with much of the air of one who generally gets what he wants. ”

“ And his gaze, seeking the offenders, was arrested by Miss Gaylord's shrinking figure. He lifted a hand, and the rehearsal paused. "Ah, Miss Gay!"
Thus was her name abbreviated for footlight uses, plain Mary Gaylord becoming "Marie Gay." The girl halted, and there fell a hush, cut scathingly by Torrance's irony. "Ah, Miss Gay! It is a pleasure, indeed, to have our principals set a good example to the ladies and gentlemen of the chorus. The principals, Miss Gay, are not called until eleven. ”

“ Miss Gaylord looked up quickly with a protest already formed upon her lips, but Mr. Hanks swept along so briskly that she hardly found a chance to interrupt and correct him. And Peter did not appear to have noticed the mistake.
"It is," declared the agent fervently, "a sincere pleasure to find people of the right stamp so soon attracted to our little but rapidly developing community. ”