“I think you are Lucy.”
“Are you Miss Storms?”
“I am. Where are your baggage checks, dear?”
Lucy handed over her single check and pointed out her smaller baggage which Miss Storms entrusted to a leather coated chauffeur. In a few minutes Lucy found herself in a luxurious limousine gliding through the crowded streets of the city.
A few evenings later, at a small dinner to which Miss Storms had invited some young people of her acquaintance, Lucy found herself between a red haired girl and a fresh faced young man, both from the Art School.
“Lucy, this is Nora Stimpson,” began Miss Storms, and Lucy bowed to the red haired girl. “Your right hand partner is John Winter,” continued Miss Storms.
Lucy, following Miss Storms’ direction, looked into the smiling blue eyes of John. He rose and reached out his hand to take hers.
Lucy’s romance had begun.
VIII
After Lucy’s departure the Merwent home went from bad to worse. In times past her presence had often sufficed to prevent the more sordid expressions of the disgust and contempt which Arthur felt for Nannie, and of Nannie’s feeling of fear and distrust toward him. He now avoided being at home alone with his wife until he became almost a stranger in the house.
The scandal loving people of Russellville, like the inhabitants of all small towns when similar opportunity is afforded, began to talk, and Arthur’s name was linked with that of Mrs. Low. This, in time, came to Nannie’s ears.
Arthur’s law practice, now that he was put to extra expense for Lucy’s maintenance and education, barely supported the family, and Nannie began to feel the pinch of poverty more keenly, especially in the matter of her wardrobe. Mrs. Lockhart was bitter toward her daughter and made no effort toward consolation. In short, Nannie felt herself hardly used by the world.
She exerted all her ingenuity, however, in making an appearance that belied her pocket book, and achieved a certain amount of success.
“You could turn a good many pennies dressmaking, if you only had horse sense, Anna. Minnie could get you work among her friends. She could put it to them that it was a kind of favor, and if you’d keep your mouth shut nobody would be the worse for it,” remarked Mrs. Lockhart one day, eyeing one of Nannie’s costumes with reluctant approval.
But Nannie was very much hurt by such a suggestion. She had no desire to use her arts to teach other and more prosperous women to dress becomingly.
It was evident, nevertheless, that something must be done to supplement Arthur’s earnings. She still attended social events at the “big house” as often as she could squeeze an invitation from “Cousin Minnie,” and it was to “Cousin Minnie’s” influence, rather languidly exerted in her behalf, that she applied for a solution of her problem.
It came in the shape of a position in a small private school in Russellville.
The school, which had existed precariously for several generations, was usually referred to as “The Academy.” A short while previously it had appeared to be almost moribund, but it had lately been taken over by one Mr. Walsh, called “Professor Walsh,” though he held no degree or official position; and it had, for the time being at least, awakened to unwonted patronage.
Though Professor Walsh was from a nearby town, no one seemed to know much of his antecedents. He was a large slow-spoken man with a low-pitched pleasant voice. He had fat features and was rather pale. His hair, parted in the middle, was wetly and thinly combed over a glistening scalp. He had thick curveless lips. His eyes were a nondescript blue and he wore nose glasses which glittered inscrutably.
He had an air of decorum and responsibility, and his smile, which displayed double rows of perfect teeth, was full of warmth and condescension. He was peculiarly apt as a listener, showed a subdued but flattering appreciation of the broad talk of men, and was earnestly sympathetic, though somewhat noncommittal, when he gave ear to the ladies.
His personality was such that he impressed one, in his genial restraint, as being responsible for the group.
He was enough of an enigma to overawe people and acquired the reputation of being learned. The teachers in the school were afraid of him. By patronizing some and snubbing others, and by frequent vague allusions to distinguished acquaintances and remote but exalted relations, the Professor forced the first families of Russellville, so styled by themselves, into receiving him. At the institution over which he presided Nannie gave piano lessons to the younger pupils. She rather enjoyed than disliked her task, for her position allowed her to remind Arthur that he could not support her, and besides Professor Walsh soon became interested in her and was, as she told herself, exceedingly kind and sympathetic.
She also found it pleasant to meet the grown boys, or “young gentlemen,” as they were called, who attended some of the higher classes. Professor Walsh left her little opportunity to talk with these youths but their presence lent a piquancy to his attentions.
She was rather afraid of him, but the envy with which the teachers looked on such signal favor as she received from this august person reconciled her to those things in his makeup which she found incomprehensible. She was further led to encourage his attentions by the fact that there was no one to contest with him the role of exclusive admirer.
Professor Walsh, being of ambiguous antecedents, realized fully the advantages of a connection with some family which exemplified the southern tradition. He easily perceived that Nannie Merwent was susceptible to influence, and he hoped through her to cement an alliance with the Sheldons, the most prosperous and dictatory
