Rich Man, Poor Man
had gone flying up the stairway to her room. There, half an hour later, tapping softly at her
he whispered-
dlady's little ward. The fact is the two had long lived together in the boarding house; for the year that Mr. Mapleson came to Mrs. Tilney's was th
en Mrs. Tilney's doorbell sounded. As the day happened to be a Sunday, and
ing sunshine, yet the man she found in the vestibule was clad in a winter suit not only sizes too large for him but suffocating
Tilney had in
the slight, pallid man from replying. "I-why, your sign outs
nces?" Mrs. Tiln
ut to shut the door when abruptly he threw out bot
e appealed. "I've come a g
n the wan wistfulness of his look, the s
and, standing aside, sh
oo, would be gone. But Mr. Mapleson showed no disposition to depart. There were, in fact, signs that he meant to remain indefinitely. At any rate, on entering his room one morning Mrs. Tilney found upon the wall three cheap little col
her boarders, a Mr. Agramonte. The gentleman, the manager of a vaudeville booking agency, having let his board bill run three weeks, decamped secretly in the middle of the night. This was the day before Thanksgi
ht you a flow
gasped M
er, his alarm as well, Mrs. Tilney emitted a laugh, or rather it
one of her boarders shown her such consider
Mapleson's advent, was one to be remembered. A raw wind from the eastward had risen with the morning, and well on in the afternoon rain began. Presently, as if to show w
rl entered the kitchen where Mrs. Tiln
n the parlor, mum
ly misused in Mrs. Tilney's c
you know?" deman
th convincing frankness, "she do
dripping skirts clung an equally rain-soaked child; and that they were persons of distinction not even their appear
or rooms-a room
gesture of uncontrollable languor she held
However, after some misgivings she showed her visitor the one vacancy. It was a top-floor bedr
sitor. "I'll have my
er, could utter that shibboleth of her calling, "You have references?" the chi
ne's hungry
ontraction of her mouth th
r, in just a li
still confident, told her the visitor hadn't it. And to have turned that woman and
ther?" asked the
lney had grim
she demanded, with a directnes
Then with a quiet dignity she slipped off her gl
widow,"
y had aske
hild with me. Tonight's no night for her to be traipsing th
Barbara Wynne had c
s. Tilney's door. That night Mrs. Wynne came down to her dinner; but after that, of Mrs. Tilney's guests none but Mr. Map
p," he said; "some
me. He gave one look at the woman moaning on her pillow-in her nightdress, her hair in
-going fas
darkness; yet before its light failed altogether it flickered once, gleaming momentarily. Then the
earie?" whispe
came, but of a part of it Mrs.
Wynne!" the lip
or was ajar, and there on the floor sat the little man and the
rs. Tilne
ily wrung back the passing spirit to its shell had yet not been able to hold
d her. Never had she looked so grim, so sharp-faced, so unlovely. Never had her bony, an
most part, and none of any value. All were addressed "Dearest D," and signed either "B," "H" or "V." However, from a remark let fall by Mrs. Wynne it was inferred that she had neither friends nor family in New York. It also was inferred that she had
ther's funeral Mr. Mapleson slipped down the hall toward Mrs. Tiln
sked Mr.
tight to her flat, unlovely breast was Bab's r
trade. Then, too, the snubs he received were, to a man of his shy nature, each a crucifixion. Eventually,
ch of bubbling exultation. Pic
amonds and pearls! You'l
of a far more prac
my licorice stic
was Mr. Mapleson who always heard her lessons. "Spell cat," Mr. Mapleson would say; and when Bab, after deep thought, announced that c-a-t spelled cat, Mr. Mapleson would exclaim: "Very good! Very good!" and, laying down the spelling book, would pick up the reader.
n would be
ls!" he'd say. "Di
ens the dawning of a character, was not just so earnest, so tractable. Pouting
would slowly
Bab," he'd say, "how can you hope
e a fine lady!"
silence. Then Mr. Mapleson would
reak Mr. Mapy's
t turned twenty, and Mr. Mapleson's promise had come true. "Diamonds and pearls! Diamonds a
d Mr. Mapleson, his eyes gleaming like a bird's, bent above he
, Ba
suddenly, her
e whispered. "Is i
have been seen in the light from outside that Mr. Mapleson st
from the pillow Bab bent closer to him, her
! Last night you were talking and I heard-I couldn't help listening! You wer
g too. Then he spoke, and his voice when she heard it was thi
n Beeston's granddaughter. Your father was his son." And then Mr.
uite alone-the white-faced, white-haired, faded little old man; the girl, youthful, lovely, alluring. But alone thou
esentl
ering-"you mean that I'm theirs?
eson sai
g?" she asked. "You mean I'm to have pretty cloth
th working queerly, Mr. Mapleson fell to n
es-ever
s expression once more rap
you?" said Mr. Mapleson, his voice eager, clear
e arms; and Bab, her face suffused, crept into them. For a
appy, then
! Mr. Mapy!"