CHAPTER XIX

THE FIRST VICTORY

When Grace reentered the parlor, to find Hamilton Gregory alone, her eyes were full of reproach without tenderness. He dropped his head before her accusing face, but, all the same, he felt a buoyant relief because she was there.

As she came straight toward him, an open letter in her hand, his body grew erect, and his brown eyes, losing their glazed light, burned from the depths.

"Read it," Grace said, in a thin brittle voice.

In taking the letter, Gregory touched her hand. With recaptured alertness, he held the missive to the light, and read:

"MY DEAR MISS NOIR:-- "This is to officially offer you the position of bookkeeper at my grocery store, now that Hamilton Gregory has decided to make Fran his secretary. Come over early in the morning and everything will be arranged to your satisfaction.

I am, ROBERT CLINTON."

Gregory looked up, and marked the fixedness of her gaze. It seemed to call upon him to avenge an insult. He could only bl.u.s.ter, "Who brought this thing here?" He flung the note upon the table.

"A messenger." Grace's look did not waver.

"The impudence!" he exclaimed. "The affront!"

"However," said Grace, "I presume it is final that I am dismissed?"

"But his unseemly haste in sending this note--it's infamous, that's what I call it, infamous!"

"And you mean to take Fran in my place, do you not?"

"You see," Gregory explained, "Bob Clinton came back to town this evening from Springfield, you understand, and Abbott came with him-- er--and Mrs. Gregory was in the room so they could not speak exactly openly, and Abbott made the condition--I can hardly explain so delicate an affair of--of business--but you see, Bob is evidently very much in love with you, and he has it in his power to demand--"

Grace calmly waited for the other to lapse into uncertain silence, then said, "This note tells me definitely that I am offered another position, but you tell me nothing. It was I who sent Mr. Clinton to Springfield to look into the private record of that Fran."

"You see," Gregory explained, "he was afraid I might think it presumptuous of him to do that, it was like doubting my word, so he came to me--however, he is back and there is nothing to reveal, absolutely nothing to reveal."

"Is he sure that the girl is no impostor?"

"He knows she isn't. His pockets are full of proofs. I know you sent Bob on my account, Grace, but alas! Fran is a reality--she can't be dismissed."

"It seems I can be. But of course I am nothing."

"Grace! You are everything."

She laughed. "Everything! At the word of an Abbott Ashton, a disgraced school-teacher, you make me less than nothing!"

He cried out impetuously, "Shall I tell you why we must part?"

Grace returned with a somber look, "So Fran is to have my place!"

Gregory interposed pa.s.sionately, "It is because I love you."

"So Fran is to be your secretary!" she persisted.

"Grace, you have read my heart, I have read yours; we thought we could a.s.sociate in safety, after that--but I am weak. You never come into the room that I am not thrilled with rapture. Life hasn't any brightness for me except your presence. What can I do but protect you?"

"Mr. Gregory, Fran hasn't any interest in your work."

"I love you, Grace--I adore you. Beautiful darling--don't you see you must go away because you are so inexpressibly precious to me? That's why I mustn't have you under my roof." He sank upon his knees and caught her hand. "See me at your feet--should this thing be?"

Grace coldly withdrew her hand. "In spite of all you say, you have engaged Fran in my place."

"No one can take your place, dear."

Grace's voice suddenly vibrated: "You tell me you love me, yet you agree to hire that woman, in my place--the woman I hate, I tell you; yes, the spy, the enemy of this home."

"Yes, Grace, I do tell you that I love you--would I be kneeling here worshiping you, otherwise? And what is more, you know that you love me--you know it. That's why I must send you away."

"Then send Fran away, when you send me away."

"Oh, my G.o.d, if I could!" he exclaimed, starting up wildly. "But you see, it's impossible. I can't do that, and I can't keep you."

"Why is it impossible? Must you treat better the daughter of an old college friend, than the woman you say you love? What are those mysterious Springfield interests?"

"--And you are the woman who loves me!" Gregory interrupted quickly.

"Say it, Grace! Tell me you love me before you go away--just those three words before I sink back into my lonely despair. We will never be alone together in this life--tell me, then, that you love me--let me hear those words from your beautiful lips--"

"It makes me laugh!" Grace cried out in wrath that could not be controlled, "to hear you speak of love in one breath and of Fran in the next. Maybe some day you'll speak both in the same breath! Yes, I will go and you can hire your Fran."

"But won't you tell me good-by?" he pleaded. "As soon as I have become complete master of my love for you, Fran shall be sent unceremoniously about her business. I fancy Abbott Ashton wants to marry her--let him take her away. Then she will be gone. Then my--er--duty--to friendship will be fulfilled. And if you will come back again then, we might be happy together, after all."

She stamped her foot violently. "This need not be, and you know it.

You speak of being master of yourself. What do you mean? I already know you love me. What is there to hide?"

"But others would see. Others would suspect. Others would betray. Good heavens, Grace, all my life has been made horribly miserable because I've always had to be considering what others would think and do!"

"Betray? What is there to betray? Nothing. You are what you have always been, and so am I. We didn't commit a crime in speaking the truth for once--you are sending me away for ever, and yet you try to temporize on this eternity. Well--keep your Fran! It's fortunate for me that I have _one_ friend." She s.n.a.t.c.hed up the open letter, and hurried toward the door.

"Grace!" Gregory followed her imploringly, "not Bob Clinton! Hear me, Grace. If you ever marry that man, I shall kill myself."

She laughed scornfully as she s.n.a.t.c.hed open the door.

"Grace, I tell you that Fran--"

"Yes!" exclaimed the other, her voice trembling with concentrated anger, "let that be the last word between us, for it is that, and that only which separates us. Yes--_that Fran!"_