"He took it terribly, seriously, Charlie, just the same.""I'd like to take that young boy in hand and shake some of the nonsense out of him that you women have filled him with.He's got a level head.On the floor every day, and never yet bought a hatful of wheat on his own account.Don't know the meaning of speculation and don't want to.There's a boy with some sense.""It's just as well," persisted Mrs.Cressler reflectively, "that Laura wouldn't have him.Of course they're not made for each other.But I thought that Corthell would have made her happy.But she won't ever marry 'J.' He asked her to; she didn't tell me, but Iknow he did.And she's refused him flatly.She won't marry anybody, she says.Said she didn't love anybody, and never would.I'd have loved to have seen her married to 'J.,' but I can see now that they wouldn't have been congenial; and if Laura wouldn't have Sheldon Corthell, who was just made for her, I guess it was no use to expect she'd have 'J.' Laura's got a temperament, and she's artistic, and loves paintings, and poetry, and Shakespeare, and all that, and Curtis don't care for those things at all.They wouldn't have had anything in common.But Corthell--that was different.And Laura did care for him, in a way.He interested her immensely.When he'd get started on art subjects Laura would just hang on every word.My lands, I wouldn't have gone away if I'd been in his boots.You mark my words, Charlie, there was the man for Laura Dearborn, and she'll marry him yet, or I'll miss my guess.""That's just like you, Carrie--you and the rest of the women," exclaimed Cressler, "always scheming to marry each other off.Why don't you let the girl alone?
Laura's all right.She mind's her own business, and she's perfectly happy.But you'd go to work and get up a sensation about her, and say that your 'heart bleeds for her,' and that she's born to trouble, and has sad eyes.If she gets into trouble it'll be because some one else makes it for her.You take my advice, and let her paddle her own canoe.She's got the head to do it;don't you worry about that.By the way--" Cressler interrupted himself, seizing the opportunity to change the subject."By the way, Carrie, Curtis has been speculating again.I'm sure of it.""Too bad," she murmured.
"So it is," Cressler went on."He and Gretry are thick as thieves these days.Gretry, I understand, has been selling September wheat for him all last week, and only this morning they closed out another scheme--some corn game.It was all over the Floor just about closing time.They tell me that Curtis landed between eight and ten thousand.Always seems to win.I'd give a lot to keep him out of it; but since his deal in May wheat he's been getting into it more and more.""Did he sell that property on Washington Street?" she inquired.
"Oh," exclaimed her husband, "I'd forgot.I meant to tell you.No, he didn't sell it.But he did better.
He wouldn't sell, and those department store people took a lease.Guess what they pay him.Three hundred thousand a year.'J.' is getting richer all the time, and why he can't be satisfied with his own business instead of monkeying 'round La Salle Street is a mystery to me."But, as Mrs.Cressler was about to reply, Laura came to the open window of the parlour.
"Oh, Mrs.Cressler," she called, "I don't seem to find your 'Idylls' after all.I thought they were in the little book-case.""Wait.I'll find them for you," exclaimed Mrs.
Cressler.
"Would you mind?" answered Laura, as Mrs.Cressler rose.
Inside, the gas had not been lighted.The library was dark and cool, and when Mrs.Cressler had found the book for Laura the girl pleaded a headache as an excuse for remaining within.The two sat down by the raised sash of a window at the side of the house, that overlooked the "side yard," where the morning-glories and nasturtiums were in full bloom.
"The house _is_ cooler, isn't it?" observed Mrs.
Cressler.
Laura settled herself in her wicker chair, and with a gesture that of late had become habitual with her pushed her heavy coils of hair to one side and patted them softly to place.
"It is getting warmer, I do believe," she said, rather listlessly."I understand it is to be a very hot summer." Then she added, "I'm to be married in July, Mrs.Cressler."Mrs.Cressler gasped, and sitting bolt upright stared for one breathless instant at Laura's face, dimly visible in the darkness.Then, stupefied, she managed to vociferate:
"What! Laura! Married? My darling girl!""Yes," answered Laura calmly."In July--or maybe sooner.""Why, I thought you had rejected Mr.Corthell.Ithought that's why he went away."
"Went away? He never went away.I mean it's not Mr.
Corthell.It's Mr.Jadwin."
"Thank God!" declared Mrs.Cressler fervently, and with the words kissed Laura on both cheeks."My dear, dear child, you can't tell how glad I am.From the very first I've said you were made for one another.And Ithought all the time that you'd told him you wouldn't have him.""I did," said Laura.Her manner was quiet.She seemed a little grave."I told him I did not love him.Only last week I told him so.""Well, then, why did you promise?"
"My goodness!" exclaimed Laura, with a show of animation."You don't realize what it's been.Do you suppose you can say 'no' to that man?""Of course not, of course not," declared Mrs.Cressler joyfully."That's 'J.' all over.I might have known he'd have you if he set out to do it.""Morning, noon, and night," Laura continued."He seemed willing to wait as long as I wasn't definite;but one day I wrote to him and gave him a square 'No,'
so as he couldn't mistake, and just as soon as I'd said that he--he--began.I didn't have any peace until I'd promised him, and the moment I had promised he had a ring on my finger.He'd had it ready in his pocket for weeks it seems.No," she explained, as Mrs.Cressler laid her fingers upon her left hand, "That I would not have--yet.""Oh, it was like 'J.' to be persistent," repeated Mrs.
Cressler.
