“Wope! Wope there lady!” interposed
Mickey. “Look out! There’s a
subm’rine coming. Sink it! Sink it!”
“Mickey what’s a subm’rine?”
asked Peaches.
“Why it’s like this,” explained
Mickey. “There’s places where there’s
water, like I bring to wash you, only miles and miles
of it, such a lot, it’s called an ocean——”
“Sure! ‘Crost it where the kings
is makin’ people kill theirselves,” cried
Peaches.
“Yes,” agreed Mickey. “And
on the water, sailing along like a lady, is a big,
beautiful ship. Then there’s a nasty little
boat that can creep under the water. It slips
up when she doesn’t know it’s coming, and
blows a hole in the fine ship and sinks her all spoiled.
But if the nice ship sees the subm’rine coming
and sinks it, why then she stays all nice, and isn’t
spoiled at all. See?”
“Subm’rines spoil things?” ventured
Peaches.
“They were just invented for that, and
nothing else.”
“Mickey, I’ll just say, ‘Hurry!
Run fast!’ Mickey, can you carry me that far?”
she asked anxiously.
“No, I can’t carry you that far,”
admitted Mickey. “But Mr. Douglas Bruce,
that we work for after this, will let me take his driver
and his nice, easy car, and it will beat streetcars
a mile, and we’ll just go sailing for the ‘Star
of Hope’ and get your back made over, and then
comes school and everything girls like. See?”
“Mickey, what if he never comes?” wavered
Peaches.
“Yes, but he will!” said Mickey
positively.
“Mickey, what if he should come, an’ wouldn’t
even look at my back?” she pursued.
“Why, he’d be glad to!” cried
Mickey. “Don’t be silly. Give
the man some chance!”
James Jr. and Malcolm
Nellie Minturn returned to her room too dazed to realize
her suffering. She had intended doing something;
the fringed orchids reminded her. She rang for
water to put them in, while her maid with shaking fingers
dressed her, then ordered the car. The girl understood
that some terrible thing had happened and offered
to go with the woman who moved so mechanically she
proved she scarcely knew what she was doing.
“No,” said Mrs. Minturn. “No,
the little soul has been out there a long time alone,
her mother had better go alone and see how it is.”
She entered the car, gave her order and sank back
against the seat. When the car stopped, she descended
and found the gates guarding the doors of the onyx
vault locked. She pushed her flowers between the
bars, dropping them before the doors, then wearily
sank on the first step, leaning her head against the
gate, trying to think, but she could not. Near
dawn her driver spoke to her.
“It’s almost morning,” he said.
“You’ve barely time to reach home before
the city will be stirring.”
She paid no attention, so at last he touched her.
