The Fortune Hunter [27]
He might induce her to run away with him.''
``Rindsvieh!'' muttered Ganser, his hair and whiskers bristling. ``Dreck!''
``I want to ask you, as a man and a father, to see that this young lady is warned. She'll be anxious enough to keep quiet. If you do, there won't be any scandal--at least not from there.''
``I'll go down and warn her. Where is she? I'll speak to her father.''
``And have him make a row? No, there's only one way. Send your daughter to her.''
``But you don't know my daughter. She's a born--'' Just in time Ganser remembered that he was talking to a stranger and talking about his daughter. ``She wouldn't do it right,'' he finished.
``She can go in and see the young lady alone and come out without speaking to anybody else. I'll promise you there'll be no risk.''
Ganser thought it over and decided to take Otto's advice. They discussed Mr. Feuerstein for several minutes, and when Otto left, Ganser followed him part of the way down the stoop, shaking hands with him. It was a profound pleasure to the brewer to be able to speak his mind on the subject of his son-in-law to an intelligent, appreciative person. He talked nothing else to his wife and Lena, but he had the feeling that he might as well talk aloud to himself.
After supper--the Gansers still had supper in the evening, their fashionable progress in that direction having reached only the stage at which dinner is called luncheon--he put Lena into the carriage and they drove to Avenue A. On the way he told her exactly what to say and do. He stayed in the carriage. ``Be quick,'' he said, ``and no foolishness!''
Lena, swelling and rustling with finery and homelier than before her troubles, little though they disturbed her, marched into the shop and up to the end counter, where Hilda was standing.
``You are Miss Hilda Brauner?'' she said. ``I want to see you alone.''
Hilda looked her surprise but showed Lena into the living-room, which happened to be vacant. Lena could not begin, so intent was she upon examining her rival. ``How plain she's dressed,'' she thought, ``and how thin and black she is!'' But it was in vain; she could not deceive her rising jealousy. It made her forget her father's instructions, forget that she was supposed to hate Feuerstein and was getting rid of him.
``I am Mrs. Carl Feuerstein,'' she cried, her face red and her voice shrill with anger and excitement. ``And I want you to stop flirting with my husband!''
Hilda stood petrified. Lena caught sight of a photograph on the mantelpiece behind Hilda. She gave a scream of fury and darted for it. ``How dare you!'' she shrieked. ``You impudent THING!'' She snatched the frame, tore it away from the photograph and flung it upon the floor. As she gazed at that hair like a halo of light, at those romantic features and upturned eyes, she fell to crying and kissing them.
Hilda slowly turned and watched the spectacle--the swollen, pudgy face, tear-stained, silly, ugly, the tears and kisses falling upon the likeness of HER lover. She suddenly sprang at Lena, her face like a thunder-storm, her black brows straight and her great eyes flashing. ``You lie!'' she exclaimed. And she tore the photograph from Lena's hands and clasped it to her bosom.
Lena shrank in physical fear from this aroused lioness. ``He's my husband,'' she whined. ``You haven't got any right to his picture.''
``You lie!'' repeated Hilda, throwing back her head.
``It's the truth,'' said Lena, beginning to cry. ``I swear to God it's so. You can ask pa if it ain't. He's Mr. Ganser, the brewer.''
``Who sent you here to lie about him to me?''
``Oh, you needn't put on. You knew he was married. I don't wonder you're mad. He's MY husband, while he's only been making a fool of YOU. You haven't got any shame.'' Lena's eyes were on the photograph again and her jealousy over-balanced fear. She laughed tauntingly.
``Of course you're trying to brazen it out. Give me that picture! He's my husband!''
Just then Ganser appeared in the doorway-- he
``Rindsvieh!'' muttered Ganser, his hair and whiskers bristling. ``Dreck!''
``I want to ask you, as a man and a father, to see that this young lady is warned. She'll be anxious enough to keep quiet. If you do, there won't be any scandal--at least not from there.''
``I'll go down and warn her. Where is she? I'll speak to her father.''
``And have him make a row? No, there's only one way. Send your daughter to her.''
``But you don't know my daughter. She's a born--'' Just in time Ganser remembered that he was talking to a stranger and talking about his daughter. ``She wouldn't do it right,'' he finished.
``She can go in and see the young lady alone and come out without speaking to anybody else. I'll promise you there'll be no risk.''
Ganser thought it over and decided to take Otto's advice. They discussed Mr. Feuerstein for several minutes, and when Otto left, Ganser followed him part of the way down the stoop, shaking hands with him. It was a profound pleasure to the brewer to be able to speak his mind on the subject of his son-in-law to an intelligent, appreciative person. He talked nothing else to his wife and Lena, but he had the feeling that he might as well talk aloud to himself.
After supper--the Gansers still had supper in the evening, their fashionable progress in that direction having reached only the stage at which dinner is called luncheon--he put Lena into the carriage and they drove to Avenue A. On the way he told her exactly what to say and do. He stayed in the carriage. ``Be quick,'' he said, ``and no foolishness!''
Lena, swelling and rustling with finery and homelier than before her troubles, little though they disturbed her, marched into the shop and up to the end counter, where Hilda was standing.
``You are Miss Hilda Brauner?'' she said. ``I want to see you alone.''
Hilda looked her surprise but showed Lena into the living-room, which happened to be vacant. Lena could not begin, so intent was she upon examining her rival. ``How plain she's dressed,'' she thought, ``and how thin and black she is!'' But it was in vain; she could not deceive her rising jealousy. It made her forget her father's instructions, forget that she was supposed to hate Feuerstein and was getting rid of him.
``I am Mrs. Carl Feuerstein,'' she cried, her face red and her voice shrill with anger and excitement. ``And I want you to stop flirting with my husband!''
Hilda stood petrified. Lena caught sight of a photograph on the mantelpiece behind Hilda. She gave a scream of fury and darted for it. ``How dare you!'' she shrieked. ``You impudent THING!'' She snatched the frame, tore it away from the photograph and flung it upon the floor. As she gazed at that hair like a halo of light, at those romantic features and upturned eyes, she fell to crying and kissing them.
Hilda slowly turned and watched the spectacle--the swollen, pudgy face, tear-stained, silly, ugly, the tears and kisses falling upon the likeness of HER lover. She suddenly sprang at Lena, her face like a thunder-storm, her black brows straight and her great eyes flashing. ``You lie!'' she exclaimed. And she tore the photograph from Lena's hands and clasped it to her bosom.
Lena shrank in physical fear from this aroused lioness. ``He's my husband,'' she whined. ``You haven't got any right to his picture.''
``You lie!'' repeated Hilda, throwing back her head.
``It's the truth,'' said Lena, beginning to cry. ``I swear to God it's so. You can ask pa if it ain't. He's Mr. Ganser, the brewer.''
``Who sent you here to lie about him to me?''
``Oh, you needn't put on. You knew he was married. I don't wonder you're mad. He's MY husband, while he's only been making a fool of YOU. You haven't got any shame.'' Lena's eyes were on the photograph again and her jealousy over-balanced fear. She laughed tauntingly.
``Of course you're trying to brazen it out. Give me that picture! He's my husband!''
Just then Ganser appeared in the doorway-- he