During the last act of the matinee on the day following Lorelei was surprised to receive a call from John Merkle. "The Judge" led him to her dressing-room, then shuffled away, leaving him alone with her and Mrs. Croft.
"I hope I haven't broken any rules by dropping in during your office hours," he began.
"Theatrical rules are made to be broken; but I do think you are indiscreet. Don't you?"
The banker had been using his eyes with an interest that betrayed his unfamiliarity with these surroundings. "I was on my way up- town and preferred not to telephone." He looked meaningly at Croft; and Lorelei, interpreting his glance, sent the dresser from the room on some errand. "Well, the game worked," said Merkle. "Mrs. Hammon has left home and commenced suit for divorce. If our friend Miss Lynn had set out to ruin Jarvis socially--and perhaps financially--she couldn't have played her cards better."
"Is that what you came to tell me?"
Merkle hesitated. "No," he admitted, "it isn't; but I'm a bit embarrassed now that I'm here. I suppose your mother told about seeing me?"
"My mother?" Lorelei's amazement was convincing, and his keen eyes softened. "When did you see mother? Where?"
"Yesterday, at my office. Didn't you know that she and your brother had called?"
Lorelei shook her head; she felt sick with dread of his next words.
"It was very--unpleasant, I fear, for all of us."
"What did they--want?" The girl was still smiling, but her lips beneath the paint were dry.
"They felt that I had--er--involved you in a great deal of notoriety. From what they said I judged that you shared their feelings." He paused awkwardly once more, and she motioned him to continue. "We didn't get on very well, especially your brother and I; for he presumed to--criticize my relations with you and--er--my motive in taking you to ride the other night. I believe I was quite rude to him; in fact, I had the watchman eject him, not daring to trust myself."
"They asked for--money?" Lorelei averted her face, for she could not bear to meet his frank eyes.
"Yes--what I considered a great deal of money. I understood they represented you. They didn't insist, however; they offered me a choice."
"Choice? Of what?"
"Well--I inferred that marriage would undo the wrong I had--"
"Oh-h!" Lorelei rose with a gasp. Bravely she stilled the tremor of her lips. "Tell me--the rest."
"There isn't much more. Your mother was quite hysterical and-- noisy. To-day a lawyer came to see me. He offers to settle the whole matter, but I prefer dealing directly with you."
"Do you think I knew anything about it?" she cried, indignantly.
"No, I do NOT think so now. Yesterday I was too much surprised and too angry to know just what I did think. It's perfectly true, however, that I was to blame for the unfortunate outcome of the ride, and I want to make amends for any injury--"
"Weren't you injured, too, by the publicity?"
Merkle showed his teeth in a mirthless smile.
"That's neither here nor there."
"Please--leave me, and--let me think this over. I must do something quickly, or--I'll smother."
"I'm glad I came," said he, rising. "I'm glad I made sure."
"So am I. What you have told me has made a great difference in-- everything. Don't allow them to--" She hesitated and her voice broke. "I can't say it. Y-you must think I'm--unspeakable."
He shook his head gravely. "No, I merely think you are very unfortunate. I think you need help more than any girl I ever knew."
"I do. I do."
"But I am not the one to give it--at least not the kind of help you need."
"I'll need help more than ever--after to-night."
"Yes? Why?"
"Because I'm going to leave home." Lorelei's head was up, and she spoke with a note of defiance.
"Then perhaps I CAN do something." He seated himself again. "You will need money."
"Oh no. I have my salary and the other revenues you know about. I have kept my family for two years."
"Work won't hurt you, but why force yourself to go on with those other things? They're not to your liking, I'm sure."
"My mother and father must live. There isn't enough--don't you see? There just isn't enough for all of us unless I--graft like the other girls."
Merkle broke out, impatiently: "Make an end of it. I'll finance you." She laughed a little harshly. "Don't misunderstand me," he went on, almost eagerly. "Don't think for an instant that I'd venture to expect anything in return. I won't trouble you; I won't even see you. Nobody will ever know. I wouldn't miss the money, and I'd really love to do it. You tried to do me a favor--"
"There's no use arguing."
"Well, don't be stubborn or hasty. You could use--say, ten thousand dollars. It would keep you going very nicely, and really it's only the price of a new auto."
"Why do you offer me so much?" she asked, curiously.
"Because I like you--Oh, I mean 'LIKE,' not 'LOVE'! Because I think you're a good sort and will need money to remain good. You're not an ordinary woman, Miss Knight; you can't live as ordinary women live, now that you're famous. New York won't let you."
"You're very kind and generous after all that has occurred and after knowing my reason for being here."
"My dear child, you didn't choose your family, and as for the other, the women of my set marry for money, just as you plan to do. So do women everywhere, for that matter, and many of them make excellent wives--yes, far better than if they had married poor men. Few girls as beautiful as you in any walk of life are allowed to marry for love. Trust me, a woman like you, if she lives up to the obligations of wifehood, deserves better than one who takes a man for love and then perhaps goes back on her bargain. Will you accept my offer?"
"No. But I thank you."
"Think it over; there is no hurry, and remember I want to help." With one of his infrequent, wan smiles he extended his hand, and Lorelei grasped it warmly, though her face was set and strained.
She was far too well balanced for hasty resolutions, but her mind, once made up, was seldom changed. It distressed her grievously to leave her people, but at the thought of remaining longer with them every instinct rebelled. Her own kin, urged by greed, had not hesitated to cheapen and degrade her; their last offense, coupled with all that had gone before, was more than could be borne. Yet she was less resentful than sad, for it seemed to her that this was the beginning of the end. First the father had been crippled, then the moral fiber of the whole family had disintegrated until the mother had become a harpy, the brother a scamp, and she, Lorelei, a shameless hunter of men. Now the home tie, that last bond of respectability, was to be broken.
Her first impulse was to take up her abode with Adoree Demorest, but a little thought showed the inadvisability of that. In her doubt she appealed to Lilas, broaching the subject as the two girls were dressing after the performance.
"An apartment?" echoed the latter. "Why, my building is full of them. Who wants one?"
"I do."
"You--?" Lilas turned with her mouth full of hair-pins, and her hands halted in their nimble duties.
When Lorelei had made known her decision, the other girl nodded her approval.
"I don't blame you a bit; a girl needs liberty. I have five rooms, and a Jap to take care of them; they're lovely."
"I can't afford an expensive place."
"Well, there are some three-room flats in the rear, and--I have it! Gertie Moore kept one, but she's gone on the road. It's all furnished, too. Some Rah-rah boy from Columbia fixed it up for her, but they had a row, broke the engagement, and she joined out with the 'Kissing Girls.' If it hasn't been sublet you can get it at your own terms. The building is respectable, too; it's as proper as the Ritz. I'm dining alone to-night. Come to dinner with me and we'll find out all about it."
Lorelei would have preferred a different location, not particularly desiring to be near Lilas; but there was no time in which to look about, and the necessity that faced her made any assistance welcome. Without more discussions she agreed, and the two girls rode up-town together.
The Elegancia, where Lilas lived, was a painfully new, over- elaborate building with a Gothic front and a Gotham rear--half its windows pasted with rental signs. Six potted palms, a Turkish rug, and a jaundiced Jamaican elevator-boy gave an air of welcome to the ornate marble entrance-hall.
Lilas fitted a key to the first door on the right as they went in, explaining, "I'm on the ground floor, and find it very convenient."
"This place is too grand for me," Lorelei objected.
"Oh, offer your own price for Gertie's flat if you like it. They're crazy for tenants. If you didn't want a furnished place you could get in rent-free. They have to fill up these buildings to sell them. I've lived for months without paying a cent, and always in a new apartment. As soon as my lease was up and the owner wanted to renew I'd move to another house that wasn't full. It's cheaper than hotels--if you want to save money."
Lorelei was surprised to find her friend's quarters not only richly, but lavishly furnished. The floors were covered with rugs of the deepest hue and richest luster; the furniture of the front room into which she was first ushered was of an inlaid foreign pattern, of which she could not guess the name or period. There was a player-piano to match the furniture, and a cabinet of rolls. Near by stood a specially made Victrola with an extensive selection of records. There were bronze lamps, ravishing bits of bric-a-brac, lace curtains of which she could judge the quality, and heavy hangings, sheathed now in their summer coverings. The decorations of the room were harmonious and bespoke a reckless disregard of cost. A fluffy Japanese spaniel with protruding eyes and distorted visage capered deliriously at its mistress's feet.
But the objects that intrigued the visitor most strongly were several paintings. They were of a kind she had seldom seen, and in the afternoon light one stood out with particularly startling effect. It was a dusky landscape; there was a stream, a meadow edge, trees just growing black against a dying sunset, a herd of cattle coming out of the west. Before this picture Lorelei paused, staring with wide eyes of wonder.
Lilas flung her hat carelessly into a chair, lit a cigarette from a Tiffany humidor, then turned with the spaniel in her arms and, beholding her guest with rapt, upturned face, remarked, with a laugh:
"Looks the real thing, doesn't it?"
"Oh--it's wonderful--so clean and cool and quiet! I've seen cattle in Vale that looked just like those, when I went barefoot in the grass."
"Some Dutchman painted it--his name's in the corner. He's dead now, I believe. It used to hang in some museum--I forget where. I like pictures of women best, but--" She shrugged and left her sentence unfinished. "There's a dandy in my bedroom, although it didn't cost half as much as that barn-yard thing. The frame's a foot wide and covered with solid gold."
"I had no idea you lived like this." Lorelei peered through a pair of French doors and into a perfectly appointed library, with a massive mahogany table, deep lounging-chairs, a writing-desk, and a dome-crowned reading-lamp.
"My study," Lilas laughed, shortly. "That's where I improve my mind--not. The books are deadly. Now come; Hitchy Koo must have dinner ready. His name isn't Hitchy Koo, but it sounds like it, and he's 'the cutest little thing; got the cutest little swing.'" She moved down the hall humming the chorus of the senseless popular song from which she had quoted.
Everywhere was the same evidence of good taste in decoration and luxury of equipment, but a suspicion had entered Lorelei's mind, and she avoided comment. Hitchy Koo was cook, butler, and house- boy, and in view of Miss Lynn's disorderly habits it was evident that he had all he could do to keep the place presentable. His mistress possessed that faculty of disarrangement so common in stage-women; wherever she went she left confu............