_ CHAPTER IX
Glad of the opportunity which allowed him a few minutes alone with the girl whose personality had taken so strong a hold upon him, Stafford gently closed the door, and, returning quickly, took a seat near Virginia.
"Well--Miss Blaine?" he smiled.
"Well--Mr. Stafford?"
"Here we are all alone," he said, looking at her admiringly.
There was a strange look in his eyes, a longing, appealing look, as if he had something on his mind to which he did not dare give expression. For a moment the girl regretted that she had not followed her sister. It was embarrassing under the peculiar circumstances to be alone there with him. There was a long pause, during which neither spoke. At last Virginia said:
"Why didn't you let me see the pictures too? You know that I'm interested in books and pictures."
She made a movement, as if about to follow the others, but instantly he put out his hand to detain her.
"Not yet, please. I have so many things I want to talk to you about."
In spite of herself, Virginia smiled at his boyish earnestness of manner.
"What, for instance?"
"Among them is--myself."
"I know a great deal about you already," she said. "The newspapers and magazines have been full of the history of the man who, starting with nothing, has become a power in the railroad and financial world. It only needed one thing to make it fit for the model young man's story-book--it neglected to say--'our hero neither drinks nor smokes.'"
"It couldn't," he laughed. "I do both."
"Another public idol shattered!" she exclaimed merrily.
He joined in the fun with her, in his frank, boyish way.
"Behave, now!" he laughed.
Virginia grew more serious. Thoughtfully she continued:
"In the last interview which the newspapers had with you--"
"Probably faked--" he interrupted.
"You neglected to say, 'making my first thousand dollars was the hardest task of all.' All successful men do that; why not you?"
He looked at her for a moment in an amused kind of way. Then carelessly he answered:
"Making the first thousand was about the easiest for me. I got hold of some information about a certain stock, borrowed a hundred from a friend, put it up as margin in a bucket shop, and by pressing my luck, made and got my first thousand without any trouble whatever."
Virginia looked straight at him, admiration as much for his personality as for his achievements showing plainly in the expression of her large, black eyes. Slowly she said:
"And it was that, I suppose, which started you on the way to the City of Big Things. I like that phrase--The City of Big Things.'"
He nodded as he answered: "It's a great city--the only one worth living in."
"And you are one of the most prominent inhabitants."
"I wouldn't go so far as to say that," he laughed in an embarrassed sort of way. "Still, every one in the city knows I'm living there."
The girl made no reply, but absent-mindedly looked away in the direction of the library, where Fanny and her intended were heard chattering. For a few moments she sat still, as if engrossed in thought. Then suddenly she turned toward him. Impulsively she said:
"I wonder how it must feel to be a man--and successful!"
He laughed lightly, as he answered:
"It feels great! To know that you've done something; to know that you've made a name and a place for yourself; to realize that no one dare try to walk over you; to feel that your bitterest enemy respects you and your rights because if he doesn't it means a fight to the finish--that makes a man feel good--"
"I should think it would!" she exclaimed.
"And then," he went on, "success means money, and money means power, and luxury and every comfort that the world can give. If a successful man wishes to travel by land, he has his private car, if he wishes to travel by sea, he has his own yacht, and so it goes."
"It must be wonderful to be like you, and have everything that you could wish for."
He smiled at her enthusiasm, and then his manner suddenly became more serious. In a tone which had peculiar emphasis, he said:
"I didn't say that I had everything I could wish for."
"Well, haven't you?" she demanded, as if surprised that a man so wealthy, so successful, could possibly lack anything he really desired.
"No," he replied slowly, "I haven't a home."
Still she appeared not to understand. Looking around at the magnificence all about her, she exclaimed:
"Why, all this is so beautiful--"
He shrugged his shoulders.
"This?" he echoed. "This isn't a home. It's merely the place in which I live--sometimes."
"Oh!" she exclaimed, light beginning to dawn upon her.
He went on:
"Furniture, pictures, tapestries, books--they don't make a home. Only a woman can do that--"
He stopped short and looked fixedly at her, a deep, searching look, as if he would read her very soul. Their eyes met, and instinctively she divined what his words implied and at whom they were directed. The moment she had dreaded had come at last. This man was about to ask her to marry him. Instead of exulting at this triumph, this conquest which would make her the envied wife of a millionaire, she was suddenly seized by a nervous dread. With pale face and trembling lips, she waited for him to speak, her heart throbbing so furiously that she could almost hear the beats. The time had come when she must make up her mind. She liked him, but she did not love him. She must either refuse this millionaire and voluntarily forego the life of independence and luxury such a marriage would mean, or she must be false to her most sacred convictions and marry a man she did not love. Most girls would not hesitate. It was an opportunity such as rarely presented itself. They would marry him first and find out if they cared for him afterwards. But she was not that kind of a girl. She believed in being true to her principles. She did not love him. She admired his strength, his masterful energy; she respected his success and achievements in life, but between such regard and real affection for the man himself there was a wide gulf. If she was to be true to the opinions she had always held concerning the marital relationship, she must be candid and honest with herself and with him, no matter what material advantages were to be gained by such a union. No happiness could come of a marriage that was not based on material regard or affection. They had known each other too short a time. He might think now that he cared for her very much, yet it might not be love which he felt for her at all, but only a horrible counterfeit, which goes by the same name and which, like a fierce flame, flares up suddenly and then dies down again. She was sufficiently sophisticated and world-wise to gauge at its true worth the violent attraction for the opposite sex which passion engenders in some men--an irresistible, uncontrollable desire, which must be satisfied at any cost, even at the price of their own happiness. Afterwards, when the novelty had worn off, he might be sorry and she would be very, very unhappy. Was it worth the sacrifice?
Stafford, bending over the arm of the chair on which she was seated, came so near that he almost touched her. She could feel his warm breath on her cheek. His eyes ardently fixed on hers, he whispered:
"Virginia--will you make a home for me? Will you be my wife?"
Startled, the girl drew back as if she had been stung. She had expected the proposal, yet when it came she was taken completely by surprise.
"Your wife!" she faltered.
"Yes--my wife."
She turned and looked straight at him. Agitated as she was within, her manner did not betray it. Calmly she said:
"You take me by surprise. I am greatly flattered, but--is it not rather sudden? We know so little of each other--"
Impulsively he seized her hand, and held it tight in his. She did not attempt to withdraw it. He was so moved that he could scarcely control his voice:
"I do not have to know you long to be convinced that you are the only woman with whom I could be happy."
"But are you convinced?" she persisted. "Do you really love me?"
Abruptly he released her hand and sat up. In his eyes flashed the same ardor as before, but somehow the expression of his face had changed. He was no longer the eager unsophisticated lover, ready to do anything, say anything, in order to gain his end, but the resourceful, masterly man, accustomed to direct and control his own affairs, the man who will brook no interference with his will, even from the woman who may bear his name. Slowly, almost coldly, he replied:
"You wish for the truth?"
"Yes."
He drew himself up and looked her squarely in the face. There was nothing of the lover in his manner now. An observer would have thought he was discussing with her some matter of business. And to him it was a matter of business--a matter to be discussed from every point of view and, above all, honestly. There must be no misunderstanding from the start. In this, he thought as she did. Their opinions on this one point were in curious harmony. He would not lie to her. He would make her his wife, give her all the money, all the furbelows, all the luxuries her heart desired, but he would not pretend something that was not. He would play cards upon the table. Guardedly he said:
"I feel always that I want to be near you, to be tender to you, to look after and guard you, shield you from all trouble and harm--if that is love, then I love you."
"And if I don't consider that--love?" she demanded, with a little nervous laugh.
The millionaire shook his head.
"Then I am afraid that I shall never love any one," he said. "You see, life with me has been one long fight. As a boy, I fought for bread; as a youth, I fought for an education, as a man, I fought for success. Everything I possess to-day I have wrested from the world, and while getting it I have been too busy for romance and love-making. But I think this will prove what regard I have for you. I have been attracted to many women, but you are the only woman I have ever asked to marry me. I await your answer. Will you be my wife?"
The girl looked up at him, gazing earnestly Into his eyes, as if trying to read there if he was the kind of a man to whom a girl might entrust her happiness. Slowly she said:
"You don't even trouble to ask if I love you?"
"I don't expect you to--yet," he answered, with a smile.
"And you would have me marry you, knowing that I do not love you?"
"But I think you like me--a little. Don't you?"
"Do you wish for the truth?"
"Yes."
"I do like you--more than like you--but I don't love you--yet."
"Do you love any other man?"
"No."
"Do you like any other man more than you like me?"
"No."
Once more he bent forward. Eagerly he said:
"Then give me a chance--marry me, and I'll make you love me."
"You'll--make me--" she echoed.
"Yes," he murmured ardently. "I'll make you! And when once I have your love, I'll hold it against the world! Be my wife! I'll be a loyal and faithful husband. You shan't have a single care. You shall have every luxury that money can buy. Virginia--will you marry me?"
His words, vibrating as they were with passion, sounded to her ears like music. Was this, then, the love call which nearly every woman heard some time in her life? And even if it was not love, would she not be a fool to let slip an opportunity such as came only to a few? At least he was as honest as herself. He admitted it was not love he felt for her, but in time love would come to bless their union, there was no doubt of that. Did any newly married couple really love each other at first? It was impossible, yet no one had the courage to admit it. She must decide and quickly. Her future was at stake--Fanny's future, too--for her own prosperity would naturally help her sister. Then, besides, he was such a nice, kind man. There was no reason she should not be happy. As she looked at him sideways, and noted his strong profile, his big, muscular frame, his air of energy and power, and thought of his success, his prominent position, his good reputation, she wondered to herself what more any girl could ask in a husband.
Suddenly she felt his hand close upon hers. Gently but firmly he drew her to him. She did not resist, but closed her eyes, feeling a delicious thrill at the sensation of this big, strong man taking possession of her in spite of her will. Her head fell back, and he leaned forward until his lips nearly touched hers. But they went no further. He held himself in control, as if holding back until his lips had the right to seal their troth. Softly he murmured:
"Tell me--tell me, Virginia--will you marry me?"
Like a little frightened bird, helplessly fluttering its wings in the captor's strong hands, she trembled under his caress.
"I don't know what to say," she murmured. "Give me time."
"Say yes," he murmured amorously.
Suddenly some one behind them coughed discreetly. Virginia, startled, sat up in confusion. She and Stafford had been so completely engrossed that they had not heard the entrance of Oku, who had come in to announce that dinner was ready.
"Excuse, please! Dinner, it is served!"
His master motioned him to go into the next room.
"Go and tell Miss Blaine and Mr. Gillie," he said in a slightly annoyed tone.
The servant disappeared, and Stafford, inwardly cursing Oku for the interruption, returned to the attack.
"Won't you say yes?" he pleaded.
But the spell was broken--for the time at least. Virginia had risen, and was busy rearranging her rumpled dress.
Glad of the interruption, she shook her head. It was too serious a matter to be settled so quickly. She must have time to think.
"Not now," she murmured.
"Yes," he persisted, again approaching her.
Her very resistance spurred him on. Like most men, he valued most what he could not have. Had she yielded readily, he would have thought less of her. She drew back, as if avoiding his embrace.
"You must give me time to consider," she whispered.
Stafford was about to insist, when suddenly the folding doors behind them were thrown open, disclosing the elaborately laid dining table. At the same instant Fanny and her fiancé reappeared from the library. Giving Virginia a quick glance, as if anxious to know what had occurred during their absence, the elder sister said:
"Those pictures are lovely, aren't they, Jim?"
"Fine," he exclaimed.
Stafford bowed in acknowledgment.
"I'm glad you liked them," he smiled. Turning to the younger sister, he added: "Shall we go in to dinner?"
Virginia, who had been standing with her back to the dining room, her face clouded in deep thought, turned round. An exclamation of surprise and delight escaped her lips when she caught sight of the elaborate spread made in her honor.
"Oh, isn't it beautiful!" she exclaimed rapturously.
The table, with its corbeils of fruit, beautiful silver, floral pieces, snowy linen, fine crystal, the whole dominated by a superb electrolier, which cast color over all, was indeed a spectacle to delight and fascinate the eye. Jimmie was so overcome by the sight, that he nearly fell over the chair which the accommodating Oku held out for him. At last all were seated, Virginia at the right hand of the host, Fanny at the left, the shipping clerk at the other end of the table.
"Wine, Oku, the wine!" cried Stafford, while his guests began to nibble the dainty appetizers which preceded the more substantial dishes.
The little butler, quick as lightning, filled the glasses with foaming, hissing champagne. The host, his eyes fixed on Virginia, rose to his feet, glass in hand, while Jimmie, unaccustomed to such fine surroundings, and feeling rather out of place, looked up and stared. Slowly Stafford raised his glass. Impressively he said:
"Before we begin dinner, I have a toast to propose--"
Fanny and Jimmie looked up.
"A toast!" they cried in surprise.
Stafford, his eyes still on Virginia, went on:
"I have the honor of proposing the happiness of Virginia--my future bride!"
Virginia started and turned pale and red in turn.
Jimmie, with an audible exclamation of satisfaction, nearly choked over his champagne. Fanny, overjoyed, took her sister's hand, exclaiming:
"Really, Virgie! This is a surprise, and you didn't tell me?"
"It--isn't--definite," stammered Virginia helplessly. "I--haven't-- promised."
Stafford laughed--the low, triumphant laugh of a man who knew he held the winning card. Again raising his glass, he said significantly:
"No, dear, but you will. To the future Mrs. Stafford!" _