“I should think,” she said after a moment, looking at him thoughtfully, “that it was, if you will not think me presuming, a matter about which you might have some justifiable curiosity.”
“Oh, not at all,” he assured her, stepping to leeward and producing a cigar. “I have had some stirrings of late. And please don’t think me an incorrigible idler. I spent nearly two years in a downtown office and earned—well, say half my salary. In fact, my business instincts were so strong that I left college after my second year for that purpose, but seeing no special chance of advancement in the race for wealth, and as my father seemed rather to welcome the idea, I broke off and went over to Germany. I haven’t been quite idle, though I should be puzzled, I admit, to find a market for what I have to offer to the world. Would you be interested in a schedule of my accomplishments?”
“Oh,” she said, “I should be charmed, but as I am every moment expecting the advent of my family, and as I am relied upon to locate them and tuck them up, I’m afraid I shall not have time to hear it.”
“No,” he said, laughing, “it’s quite too long.”
She was silent for some moments, gazing down into the water, apparently debating something in her mind, and quite unconscious of John’s scrutiny. Finally she turned to him with a little laugh. “You might begin on your list, and if I am called away you can finish it at another time.”
“I hope you didn’t think I was speaking in earnest,” he said.
“No,” she replied, “I did not think you really intended to unpack your wares, but, speaking seriously—and at the risk, I fear, that you may think me rather ‘cheeky,’ if I may be allowed that expression—I know a good many men in America, and I think that without an exception they are professional men or business men, or, being neither—and I know but few such—have a competence or more; and I was wondering just now after what you told me what a man like you would or could do if he were thrown upon his own resources. I’m afraid that is rather frank for the acquaintance of a day, isn’t it?” she asked with a slight flush, “but it really is not so personal as it may sound to you.”
“My dear Miss Blake,” he replied, “our acquaintance goes back at least ten years. Please let that fact count for something in your mind. The truth is, I have done some wondering along that same line myself without coming to any satisfactory conclusion. I devoutly hope I may not be so thrown absolutely, for the truth is I haven’t a marketable commodity. ‘A little Latin, and less Greek,’ German and French enough to read and understand and talk—on the surface of things—and what mathematics, history, et cetera, I have not forgotten. I know the piano well enough to read and play an accompaniment after a fashion, and I have had some good teaching for the voice, and some experience in singing, at home and abroad. In fact, I come nearer to a market there, I think, than in any other direction perhaps. I have given some time to fencing in various schools, and before I left home Billy Williams would sometimes speak encouragingly of my progress with the gloves. There! That is my list, and not a dollar in it from beginning to end, I’m afraid.”
“Who is Billy Williams?” she asked.
“Billy,” said John, “is the very mild-mannered and gentlemanlike ‘bouncer’ at the Altman House, an ex-prize-fighter, and about the most accomplished member of his profession of his day and weight, who is employed to keep order and, if necessary, to thrust out the riotous who would disturb the contemplations of the lovers of art that frequent the bar of that hotel.” It was to be seen that Miss Blake was not particularly impressed by this description of Billy and his functions, upon which she made no comment.
“You have not included in your list,” she remarked, “what you acquired in the downtown office you told me of.”
“No, upon my word I had forgotten that, and it’s about the only thing of use in the whole category,” he answered. “If I were put to it, and could find a place, I think I might earn fifty dollars a month as a clerk or messenger, or something. Hullo! here are your people.”
He went forward with his companion and greeted Mrs. Carling and her husband, who returned his “Good morning” with a feeble smile, and submitted to his ministrations in the matter of chair and rugs with an air of unresisting invalidism, which was almost too obvious, he thought. But after luncheon John managed to induce him to walk for a while, to smoke a cigarette, and finally to brave the perils of a sherry and bitters before dinner. The ladies had the afternoon to themselves. John had no chance of a further visit with Mary during the day, a loss only partially made good to him by a very approving smile and a remark which she made to him at dinner, that he must be a lineal descendant of the Samaritan. Mr. Carling submitted himself to him for the evening. Indeed, it came about that for the rest of the voyage he had rather more of the company of that gentleman, who fairly attached himself to him, than, under all the circumstances, he cared for;
