I don't remember much about the first part of the lunch.I was so hungry I wanted to eat everything in sight,and so happy that Icouldn't eat a thing.
But Mr.O.kept piling the things on my plate,and each time Ibegan to talk he'd say:"Not now--wait till you're rested,and not quite so famished."I laughed.
"Do I eat as though I was starved?"
"You--you look tired,Nance."
"Well,"I said slowly,"it's been a hard week.""It's been hard for me,too;harder,I think,than for you.It wasn't fair to me to let me--think what I did and say what I did.
I'm so sorry,Nance,--and ashamed.So ashamed!You might have told me.""And have you put your foot down on the whole thing;not much!"He laughed.He's got such a boyish laugh in spite of his chin and his eye-glasses and the bigness of him.He filled my glass for me and helped me again to the salad.
Oh,Mag,it's such fun to be a woman and have a man wait on you like that!It's such fun to be hungry and to sit down to a jolly little table just big enough for two,with carnations nodding in the tall slim vase,with a fat,soft-footed,quick-handed waiter dancing behind you,and something tempting in every dish your eye falls on.
It's a gay,happy,easy world,Maggie darlin'.I vow I can't find a dark corner in it--not to-day.
None but the swellest place in town was good enough,Obermuller had said,for us to celebrate in.The waiters looked queerly at us when we came in--me in my dusty shoes and mussed hair and old rig,and Mr.O.in his working togs.But do you suppose we cared?
He was smoking and I was pretending to eat fruit when at last Igot fairly launched on my story.
He listened to it all with never a word of interruption.
Sometimes I thought he was so interested that he couldn't bear to miss a word I said.And then again I fancied he wasn't listening at all to me;only watching me and listening to something inside of himself.
Can you see him,Mag,sitting opposite me there at the pretty little table,off in a private room by ourselves?He looked so big and strong and masterful,with his eyes half closed,watching me,that I hugged myself with delight to think that I--I,Nancy Olden,had done something for him he couldn't do for himself.
It made me so proud,so tipsily vain,that as I leaned forward eagerly talking,I felt that same intoxicating happiness I get on the stage when the audience is all with me,and the two of us--myself and the many-handed,good-natured other fellow over on the other side of the footlights--go careering off on a jaunt of fun and fancy,like two good playmates.
He was silent a minute when I got through.Then he laid his cigar aside and stretched out his hand to me.
"And the reason,Nance--the reason for it all?"I looked up at him.I'd never heard him speak like that.
"The reason?"I repeated.
"Yes,the reason."He had caught my hand.
"Why--to down that tiger Trust--and beat Tausig."He laughed.
"And that was all?Nonsense,Nance Olden,there was another reason.There are other tiger trusts.Are you going to set up as a lady-errant and right all syndicate wrongs?No,there was another,a bigger reason,Nance.I'm going to tell it to you--what!"I pulled my hand from his;but not before that fat waiter who'd come in without our noticing had got something to grin about.
"Beg pardon,sir,"he said."This message must be for you,sir.It's marked immediate,and no one else--"Obermuller took it and tore it open.He smiled the oddest smile as he read it,and he threw back his head and laughed a full,hearty bellow when he got to the end.
"Read it,Nance,"he said,passing it over to me."They sent it on from the office."I read it."Mr.Fred W.Obermuller,Manager Vaudeville Theater,New York City,N.Y.:
Dear Obermuller:--I have just learned from your little protegee,Nance Olden,of a comedy you've written.From what Miss Olden tells me of the plot and situations of And the Greatest of These--your title's great--I judge the thing to be something altogether out of the common;and my secretary and reader,Mr.
Mason,agrees with me that properly interpreted and perhaps touched up here and there,the comedy ought to make a hit.
Would Miss Olden take the leading role,I wonder?
Can't you drop in this evening and talk the matter over?There's an opening for a fellow like you with us that's just developed within the past few days,and--this is strictly confidential--Ihave succeeded in convincing Braun and Lowenthal that their enmity is a foolish personal matter which business men shouldn't let stand in the way of business.After all,just what is there between you and them?A mere trifle;a misunderstanding that half an hour's talk over a bottle of wine with a good cigar would drive away.
If you're the man I take you for you'll drop in this evening at the Van Twiller and bury the hatchet.They're good fellows,those two,and smart men,even if they are stubborn as sin.
Counting on seeing you to-night,my dear fellow,I am most cordially,I.M.TAUSIG."I dropped the letter and looked over at Obermuller.
"Miss Olden,"he said severely,coming over to my side of the table,"have you the heart to harm a generous soul like that?""He--he's very prompt,isn't he,and most--"
And then we laughed together.
"You notice the letter was marked personal?"Obermuller said.
He was still standing beside me.
"No--was it?"I got up,too,and began to pull on my gloves;but my fingers shook so I couldn't do a thing with them.
"Oh,yes,it was.That's why I showed it to you.Nance--Nance,don't you see that there's only one way out of this?There's only one woman in the world that would do this for me and that I could take it from."I clasped my hands helplessly.Oh,what could I do,Maggie,with him there and his arms ready for me!
"I--I should think you'd be afraid,"I whispered.I didn't dare look at him.
He caught me to him then.
"Afraid you wouldn't care for an old fellow like me?"he laughed."Yes,that's the only fear I had.But I lost it,Nancy,Nancy Obermuller,when you flung that paper down before me.
