PAGE 7
The Right Man
by
She shook her head. Her eyes were full of blinding tears.
“What is it, then?” urged Kenyon. And suddenly his voice was as soft as a woman’s. “Has the right man turned up unexpectedly, after all? Is it for his sake?”
“Oh, don’t!” she cried passionately. “Don’t! You hurt me!”
And, turning sharply from him, she hid her face, and broke into anguished weeping.
Kenyon stood quite still for perhaps ten seconds; then he moved close to her, and put his arm round the slight, sobbing figure.
She did not start or attempt to resist him.
“There, there!” he whispered soothingly. “I knew there was a reason. Don’t cry, dear! It will be all right–all right. Never mind the beastly money. There’s going to be a big boom in the Winhalla Railway shares, and you’ll make your fortune over it. Yes; I know all about that. A friend told me. There’s a big capitalist pushing behind. They have gone down this week, but they are going to rise like a spring tide next. And then–you’ll be free to marry the right man, eh, dear? I sha’n’t stand in your way. I’ll even come and dance at the wedding, if you’ll have me.”
She uttered a muffled laugh through her tears, and turned slightly towards him within the encircling arm.
“I hope you will,” she murmured. “Because–because–” She broke off, and became silent.
Dick Kenyon’s arm did not slacken.
“If you could make it convenient to finish that sentence of yours, I’d be real grateful,” he observed, at length.
She lifted her face from her hands, and looked him in the eyes. Her own were shining.
“Because,” she said unsteadily, “I couldn’t marry the right man–if you weren’t there.”
He looked straight back at her without a hint of emotion in his heavy eyes.
“Quite sure of that?” he asked.
And she laughed again tremulously as she made reply.
“Quite sure, Dick,” she said softly, “though I’ve only just found it out.”
* * * * *
Jerry, tearing in a little later, brimful of city news, noticed that his sister’s face was brighter than usual, but failed, in his excitement, to perceive a visitor in the room, the visitor not troubling himself to rise at his entrance.
“News, Vi!” he shouted. “Gorgeous news! The Winhalla Railway is turning up trumps! The shares are simply flying up. I told Gardner I’d sell at fifty, but he says they are worth holding on to, for they’ll go above that. He vows they’re safe. And who do you think is the capitalist that’s pushing behind? Why, Kenyon!”
He broke off abruptly at this point as Kenyon himself arose leisurely with a serene smile and outstretched hand.
“Exactly–Kenyon!” he said. “But if you think he’s a rank bad speculator like yourself, sonny, you’re mistaken. I didn’t make my money that way, and I don’t reckon to lose it that way either. But Gardner’s right. Those shares are safe. They aren’t going down again ever any more.”
He turned to the girl on his other side, and laid his free hand on her shoulder.
“And I guess you’ll forgive me for distressing you,” he said, “when I tell you why I did it.”
“Well, why, Dick?” she questioned, her face turned to his.
“I just thought I’d like to know, dear,” he drawled, “if there wasn’t something bigger than money to be got out of this deal. And–are you listening, Jerry?–I found there was!”