"Yes, and--papa, something might happen," added Luella playfully.

"I hope so sincerely, my dear."

"Mind, if he comes to you, not a word about the blacksmith! I wish you hadn't told me."

"Forget it then, Luella. We will keep it a profound secret."

Luella left her father's presence with a smile upon her face. It was already eight o'clock. Half an hour pa.s.sed, and she became anxious.

Fifteen minutes more clipped by, and still the welcome ring at the bell was not heard. She was ready to cry with vexation, for she had made up her mind to lead the young man to a declaration that very evening if it were a possible thing.

She summoned a servant.

"Jane," she said, "Mr. Lindsay has not called this evening, has he?"

"No miss. If he had of course I would tell you."

"I thought perhaps there might have been some mistake. If he should come--and it isn't very late yet--let me know at once."

"Surely I will, Miss Luella."

"She's dead gone on that man," said Jane to herself. "Well, I don't wonder, for he is awfully handsome, that's a fact. But my! if he could only see her in some of her tantrums, he'd open his eyes. He thinks she's an angel, but I know her better."

Several days pa.s.sed and still Alfred Lindsay did not call. Luella became alarmed. Was she losing her hold upon him? She was considering whether it would be proper to write a letter to the young lawyer at his office, when she chanced to make a very painful discovery.

About five o'clock on Sat.u.r.day afternoon she was coming out of Lord & Taylor's up-town store when in a plainly dressed girl who was just pa.s.sing she recognized Ruth Patton. Curiosity led her to address Ruth.

"So you are still in the city?" she said abruptly.

"Yes, Miss Ferguson," answered Ruth calmly.

"Of course you are very poor. I think I can get you a place as chambermaid in the family of one of my friends."

"Thank you, but I have a position I like better."

"What sort of a position?"

"I am in a lawyer's office, copying legal papers."

"Indeed! I suppose you are poorly paid."

"I receive ten dollars a week."

"That is ridiculously high pay. Of course you don't earn it."

"Mr. Lindsay fixed the salary--I did not."

"Lindsay!" gasped Luella, "what Lindsay?"

"Alfred Lindsay. He has his office in the Mills Building."

Ruth Patton pa.s.sed on, having unconsciously given poignant anguish to the haughty Miss Ferguson.

"Where could she have met Alfred?" Luella asked herself with contracted brow. "I must get him to discharge her. I had no idea she was such an artful minx."

CHAPTER XXII.

MISS FERGUSON WRITES A NOTE.

It was indeed true that Ruth Patton had found employment at ten dollars a week. Her services were scarcely worth that sum to her employer, but Alfred Lindsay was not only rich but generous, and was glad to believe Ruth's anxiety by insuring her a comfortable income. She was still at Mrs. Fenton's rooms, being now able to contribute her share of the expense incurred. The widow was willing to accept only three dollars per week, so that Ruth had the satisfaction of sending a weekly remittance to her mother. She was very grateful for the change in her circ.u.mstances, and, notwithstanding the disappointment about her father's estate, felt that there was reason to hope.

Two days later Alfred Lindsay found a letter upon his desk addressed in a delicate female hand which he did not recognize.

"A lady client!" he thought. "What does she want--a divorce?"

When he opened the envelope he read the following note, written on a highly perfumed sheet:

MY DEAR MR. LINDSAY: Pray don't be shocked at my boldness in writing you, but it _is so long_ since you have called that papa suggests sickness as a possible cause. I do hope that this is not what has kept you away. I confess that I have missed you very much. I have so enjoyed our conversations. You are not like the fashionable b.u.t.terflies of whom we meet so many in society. One must tolerate them, of course but it is a comfort to meet a man who can talk intelligently about books and art.

Apropos, I have a new collection of etchings that I want to show you.

Won't you name an evening when you will call, as I want to be certain to be at home when you really do come. I should be desolated, as the French say, to be absent.

Now don't fail to answer this screed. Otherwise I shall certainly manage to have some law business that will give me an excuse for calling at your office.

Very sincerely yours,

LUELLA FERGUSON.

Alfred Lindsay read this note slowly, and there was a smile upon his face, for he fully appreciated Luella's motive in writing it. A fortnight since he would have been charmed, but his feelings with respect to Miss Ferguson had undergone a change. The revelation of her real character had shocked him, and served effectually to kill his growing attachment. Beauty of face could not make up for deformity of character. On the other hand, he was beginning to be attracted by Ruth.

She lacked Luella's regular features and cold, cla.s.sic beauty, but her sweet face revealed a disposition warm, kindly, and sympathetic; and when her deep, serious eyes rested upon him, he felt that she was far more attractive than her showy rival.

"What shall I do?" he asked himself as his eyes fell upon the note. He must of course answer it, but should he accept the invitation? Upon the whole he decided to do so. There was no reason which he could allege for declining, and, though it would be to sacrifice an evening, he would go armed against Luella's fascinations by the knowledge he had acquired. He drew out a sheet of paper from a drawer in his desk, and wrote as follows:

MY DEAR MISS FERGUSON: As I am writing in my office, you will understand and excuse the unfashionable business paper which I am using. I am flattered to find that you miss me, and still more at the reason you a.s.sign for preferring my company to that of the gilded young men who worship at your shrine. I am but "a plain, blunt man," as Shakspeare has it, and cannot vie with them in compliment. I shall no doubt find pleasure in examining the etchings which you hold out as an inducement to call. I will name Thursday evening, but should you have a previous engagement, don't scruple to notify me, as I can easily postpone my visit to another date.

Yours sincerely,

ALFRED LINDSAY.

Luella Ferguson read this note with mingled pleasure and disappointment.

"It is very cold," she murmured, "almost as if I were an ordinary acquaintance. I suppose men feel hampered when they try to express themselves upon paper. I will not believe that he is less friendly, or admires me less than he used to do. At any rate he is coming, and I must make myself as fascinating as possible. I have a chance to win him, and I mean to do it."

"Papa," said Luella on Thursday morning, "Mr. Lindsay will call here this evening."

"I am glad to hear it, Luella. I hope he is coming--on business."

"I don't know," she answered demurely.