ever complained, but
there is always a troubled look in her eyes when she jestingly speaks
of Sukey as my 'other girl.' Well, it's this way: Sukey often comes to
see mother, who prefers her to Rita, and if she comes in the evening, of
course I take her home. I believe I have not deliberately gone over to
see her three times in all my life. Sometimes I ride home from church
with her and spend part of the evening. Sukey is wonderfully pretty, and
her health is so good that at times she looks like a little nymph. She
is, in a way, entertaining too. As you say, she appeals to the eye, and
when she grows affectionate, her purring and her dimples make a
formidable array not at all to be despised. You are right. She is the
same to a score of men, and I could not fall in love with her were she
the only girl on earth. I should be kicked for speaking so of her or of
any girl, but you know I would not speak so freely to any one but you.
Speaking to you seems almost like thinking."
"If it makes you think, I shall be glad you spoke," answered Billy.
"No more Sukey for me," said Dic. "I'll have nothing more to do with
her. I want to be decent and worthy of Rita. I want to be true to her,
and Sukey is apt to lead me in the other direction, without even the
excuse on my part of caring for her. An honest man will not deliberately
lead himself into temptation."
Upon the Sunday previous to Dic's intended departure for New York he
visited Rita. He had made this New York trip once before, and had
returned safely, therefore its terrors for Rita were greatly reduced.
Her regret on account of the second expedition was solely because she
would be separated from Dic for three or four months, and that
bitterness was sweetened by the thought that she would have him always
after his return.
"How shall I act while you are away?" she asked. "Shall I continue to
receive Mr. Williams, or shall I refuse to see him? You must decide for
me, and I'll act as you wish. You know how unhappy mother will be if I
refuse to see him and--and, you know she will be very severe with me. I
would not care so much for that, although her harshness hurts me
terribly. But mother's in bad health--her heart is troubling her a great
deal of late--and I can't bear to cause her pain. On the other hand, it
tortures me when that man comes near me, and it must pain you when I
receive him kindly. I can't bear to pain you and--and at times I fear if
I permit his attention yo
|