The Apple of Discord. Earle Ashley Walcott
nothing to do with the Bellinger ball, for I'm trying to invent an excuse for not going." And Miss Kendrick tilted her nose and looked defiantly at me.
"I had no idea such an atrocity was in contemplation," I said. "What I want is some advice."
"Oh, how delightful!" cried Miss Kendrick, sinking into her chair and motioning me to a seat. "I always did dearly love to give advice. It's such fun, for nobody ever follows it, and I can always tell them how much better things would have turned out if they had. But I never had anybody come and ask for it before." There was a sarcastic note in her piquant voice that made me wonder, after all, whether I liked it.
"Now you are making sport of me," I said.
"Not at all. I am quite serious, and shall listen with all my ears. Who is she, and what is the difficulty?"
"Cherchez la femme--I see you have learned your proverbs. She's a little heathen and I forgot to ask her name, and–"
"You're a heathen yourself, then. Why don't you tell your story straight?"
"You interrupted me. She's a Chinese girl–"
"Oh," cried Miss Kendrick, "I don't want to criticize, but if she isn't prettier than the ones I've seen, it's due my conscience to tell you that I don't admire your taste. And you might at least have inquired her name."
"Good heavens!" I gasped. "It's not a love affair."
"How disappointing!" she sighed, with an affectation of addressing the bust of Homer that frowned from the top of the bookcase. "I thought he was going to be interesting. Well, if it isn't a love affair, I don't see what you want my advice for; but if you'll have the goodness to explain the matter, I'll do my best for you."
Thereupon I told her the story of my morning's adventure, or so much as concerned the Chinese maiden, and set forth the wish of Big Sam to have the girl in the hands of a white woman who would surrender her on demand.
"Now, I've gone to three ladies I thought might be willing to undertake the charge," I concluded, "but they would hear nothing of it unless she was to be converted and stay with the whites, or with Christian Chinese. That is out of the question. I'm at the end of my list, and I'm looking for another; so I've come to you."
Miss Kendrick listened with absorbed interest. Whatever of raillery or affectation there had been in her manner was gone.
"I'm not wise about such matters," she said soberly, "but I think you have done what you ought. I've heard of this dreadful slavery from the girls who teach at the Mission, but I can hardly believe it. I'm sure we must do what we can to save this girl." She was silent for a little, and then went on. "I'm afraid my list is the Mission list. And you're quite certain the Mission list won't do?"
"Quite certain."
She counted her small fingers with an inaudible moving of the lips, and I watched her with the pleasure that one takes in watching a pretty child. She was so small it seemed impossible that she was seriously considering one of the serious problems of life. She gave a little sigh as the last finger was reached.
"I'm afraid I don't know her," she said regretfully. "All my ladies are very religious ladies, and I don't think they would approve your bargain at all. I'm not sure, on mature consideration, that I approve it myself."
"It is that or nothing."
"Isn't there a law, or a habeas corpus writ, or a policeman, or something?" said Miss Kendrick anxiously.
"I'm afraid," said I, smiling grimly at the recollection of Big Sam and his power, "that the law doesn't afford us much encouragement. We should never find her if we tried that policy."
"Well, I suppose you know best about that. So I don't see anything to do but to take her in here."
"Why, Miss Kendrick!" I exclaimed. "I didn't think of such a thing as that. What would your uncle say?"
"Uncle might be a little explosive," admitted Miss Kendrick with a smile, "but it's just possible that he could be managed."
I was perplexed to know what to do. I could see vague, unformed reasons against accepting her offer, yet it might prove that there was no other resource, if I was not to abandon the Chinese girl to her fate. I was turning over in my mind what to say when a servant appeared and announced:
"Mr. Baldwin to see you, Miss."
Miss Kendrick blushed very prettily at the name, and I felt a sudden dislike of any man who should be so far in her favor that his name should call the color to her face.
"Here's the man who can help us," she said. "He's sure to know somebody who will do."
This confidence in Mr. Baldwin gave me a most unpleasant shock, nor were my unchristian feelings softened by the air of confidential proprietorship with which Mr. Baldwin took Miss Kendrick's hand and replied to Miss Kendrick's greeting.
Mr. Baldwin proved to be a tall, big-faced young man, with a black mustache and a pair of snapping black eyes. He accepted an introduction with such frigid politeness that it was only an access of internal resentment that prevented me from being frozen.
"I believe we have not met," he said coldly.
"I believe not," I replied cheerfully, "though I saw you in the last trial of Merwin against Bolton."
He bowed in a superior way at the compliment of the recollection, though as junior member of the firm of Hunter, Fessenden and Baldwin he had played in court what the actors know as a "thinking part" as the guardian of a stack of law books from which his more celebrated partners drew their inspiration.
"For the defense," admitted Mr. Baldwin. "A very interesting case."
"Oh, don't get him started on that, Mr. Hampden," said Miss Kendrick. "I've lectured him on the wickedness of being in the hire of that awful Peter Bolton, but he's quite incorrigible. I've something much more important to talk to him about."
"I am all ears," said Mr. Baldwin, unbending graciously. It was marvelous to note the difference in his manner of addressing us.
"Not so bad as that!" said Miss Kendrick. "Well, it's a case of knight-errantry that Mr. Hampden has engaged in, and your help is needed."
"Oh," said Mr. Baldwin, "my services are tendered only to beauty in distress."
"That's exactly the case," said Miss Kendrick. "It isn't Mr. Hampden who is to be rescued. It's a lady fair. She's locked up in the ogre's castle and I want her taken out."
"Very good," said Mr. Baldwin. "Would any particular time suit you? It lacks three hours yet of midnight."
"Oh, it must be done right away," said Miss Kendrick.
"Well," I said, "Mr. Baldwin should be enlightened as to the chief difficulty. There's no trouble in getting the lady in the case. The principal thing is to know what to do with her after she's rescued." I began to hope that Mr. Baldwin might know of some proper custodian for the Chinese girl.
"Why, Mr. Hampden is to marry her out of hand, I suppose," said he. "That's the way it used to run in the old story-books."
"Thank you, no," I laughed. "I resign my claim to Mr. Baldwin in advance."
"I don't think it would do," said Miss Kendrick, shaking her head sagely. "Besides, there are other conditions to be fulfilled. But I truly want your counsel, Mr. Baldwin."
"At your service. Let me hear the case."
Thereupon Miss Kendrick stated the problem of the Chinese girl.
"Now," she continued, "unless you can suggest some better way, I want her brought here."
"Well, my advice, since you have asked it, is to have nothing to do with the affair," said Mr. Baldwin.
"Oh, that wasn't the part I wanted to ask you about," said Miss Kendrick composedly. "I want to find if you know anybody better fitted than I am to take charge of her under the conditions–some older person, you know, for I'm not so venerable as I'm afraid I shall be some day."
Mr. Baldwin appeared to be no better pleased than I with the idea of having Miss Kendrick take charge of the girl.
"These are not the