Amazing Grace - Part 23
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Part 23

My heart out-did the machinery in the round-house in the way of making a hubbub at that instant, but he seemed not to hear.

"I mean to say--I--I expected to hear from you in some manner to-day.

That is, I _hoped_ to hear."

I gave a hysterical laugh.

"But you didn't expect me to board a trolley-car and run you down after night in your own den--surely?" I demanded.

He half rose from his chair, hushing my mocking word with a gesture.

His manner was chivalrously protecting.

"You shan't talk that way about yourself!" he said insistently.

"Whatever you have chosen to do is--is--all right!"

I felt bewildered.

"I just wanted to let you know--" I began, when he stopped me again, this time with an air of finality.

"Please don't waste this _dear_ little hour in explaining!" he begged.

"I want you to know--to feel absolutely that nothing you might ever do could be misunderstood by me! I feel now that I _know_ you--your impulsive, headstrong ways--"

"'Heart-strong,' Aunt Patricia used to say," I modified softly.

He nodded.

"Of course--'heart-strong!' I understand you! I understand why you refrained from telling me of your engagement, even."

My eyes dropped.

"I didn't--know then."

"You didn't know how I felt--what an unhappy complication you were stirring up."

There was a tense little silence, then he spoke again.

"If you are not in love with your fiance--never have been in love with him--why do you maintain the relationship?" he asked, in as careful and businesslike a manner as if he were inquiring the price of pig-iron.

"Because--because that's the way we do things down here in this state," I answered. "What we _never_ have done before, we have a hard time starting--and mother idolizes him!"

He smiled--his own particular brand of smile--for the first time.

"Little--goose!" he said.

"Then--last night, when you pretended that you were going straight away--"

"I _am_ going away," he broke in with considerable dignity. "That is, I have my plans laid that way now."

"Plans?"

"Yes. It's true that my resolution to get away from this town was born rather precipitately last night; however, I have been able to make my plans coincide."

"Oh!" I began with a foolish little quiver in my voice, then collected myself. "I'm glad that you could arrange your affairs so satisfactorily."

He looked across at me, his mouth grim.

"Why should I stay?" he demanded. "To-night will see the finishing up of the business which brought me to Oldburgh!"

Then, and not until then, I'm afraid, did I really recall the face of my city editor--and the fact that he had sent me out to obtain an interview, not a proposal.

"Your business with the Macdermott Realty Company?" I inquired.

Maitland Tait looked at me with an amused smile.

"What do you know about that?" he asked.

"Nothing except what all the world knows!"

I managed to inject some hurt feeling into my voice, as if I had a right to know more, which in truth I felt.

"And how much does the world know?"

"Merely that you've either planned to shut down this plant here and move the whole business to Birmingham, or you've bought up acres and acres more of Oldburgh's suburbs and will make this spot so important and permanent that the company's grandchildren will have to call it home."

"But you--_you_ don't know which I've done, eh?"

I shook my head.

"Then shall I tell you? Are you interested?"

"I'm certainly interested in knowing whether or not you'll--ever come back to Oldburgh--but I don't want you to tell _me_ anything you'd rather I shouldn't know."

"I believe I want to tell you," he replied, his face softening humorously. "We have bought acres and acres more of Oldburgh's suburbs, and we're going to have quite a little city out here!"

"There's room for improvement," I observed, looking out through the window into the greasy darkness.

"There is and I'm going to see to it that the improvement's made!

There will be model cottages here in place of those miserable hovels that I'm glad you can't see from here to-night--and each cottage will have its garden spot--"

"That's good!" I approved. "I love gardens."

"Wait until you see some English ones I have seen," he said patriotically.

"I shall--then pattern my own by them! But--these Loomis plans?"

"Model cottages, with gardens--then a schoolhouse, with well-kept grounds--a club-room for men--"

"And a _sewing_ circle for their wives," I added contemptuously.

He looked taken aback.