A Millionaire of Yesterday
young woman with fluffy hair and in a pale blue dinner-dress was dancing to an unseen audience. Trent's eyes flashed with anger, and his cheeks burned. The dance was a music-hall one, and the gestures were not refined. Before he could stop himself an oath had broken from his lips. After that he dared not even glance at the girl by his side.     

       “I'm very sorry,” he muttered. “I'll stop that right away.”      

       “You mustn't disturb your friends on my account,” she said quietly. She did not look up, but Trent felt keenly the alteration in her manner.     

       “They're not my friends,” he exclaimed passionately “I'll clear them out neck and crop.”      

       She looked up for a moment, surprised at his sudden vehemence. There was no doubt about his being in earnest. She continued her work without looking at him, but her tone when she spoke was more friendly.     

       “This will take me a little longer than I thought to finish properly,” she said. “I wonder might I come down early to-morrow morning? What time do you leave for the City?”      

       “Not until afternoon, at any rate,” he said. “Come to-morrow, certainly—whenever you like. You needn't be afraid of that rabble. I'll see you don't have to go near them.”      

       “You must please not make any difference or alter your arrangements on my account,” she said. “I am quite used to meeting all sorts of people in my profession, and I don't object to it in the least. Won't you go now? I think that that was your dinner-bell.”      

       He hesitated, obviously embarrassed but determined. “There is one question,” he said, “which I should very much like to ask you. It will sound impertinent. I don't mean it so. I can't explain exactly why I want to know, but I have a reason.”      

       “Ask it by all means,” she said. “I'll promise that I'll answer it if I can.”      

       “You say that you are—a journalist. Have you taken it up for a pastime, or—to earn money?”      

       “To earn money by all means,” she answered, laughing. “I like the work, but I shouldn't care for it half so much if I didn't make my living at it. Did you think that I was an 
 Prev. P 52/202 next 
Back Top
Privacy Statement Terms of Service Contact