The Beggar Man. Ruby M. Ayres
"Isn't that rather foolish?"
She flushed sensitively.
"I don't know what you mean."
"I mean, that for all you know, I might be the biggest blackguard unhung. I might be wanted by the police—I might be all of a hundred and one unsavoury things. Do you realize that?"
Faith laughed now. She was not in the least afraid that he could be any of these things.
"I think you're the kindest man I've ever met," she said.
"Do you?" He laughed dryly. "But, then, you haven't met many men, I take it."
"No."
Another little silence.
"Have you got a mother?" Faith asked shyly.
He turned his head.
"I haven't a relative in the whole world as far as I know. I was born in Australia, and my mother died there, and my father broke his neck when I was fifteen."
"Broke his neck?" echoed Faith, horrified.
"Yes. We had a farm in Australia, twenty-eight miles from a town, and, when he was riding back home one night, the pony caught its foot and threw him." He paused. "I found him lying along the track next morning," he added grimly.
Faith drew a long breath.
"And you were only fifteen! How awful!"
"Yes, it was pretty bad. I know I sat there beside him in the scorching sun and cried for half the day, till someone came along and took me home."
"And—then?" she asked.
"Oh, I've roughed it in thousands of ways since then, and I'm tired of roughing it. That's why I want to get married." His eyes softened as they looked at her. "I think you and I will get on well together," he said.
"Yes," Faith assented. "I think so, too."
"And I'm to fix it up without your mother knowing, is that it?"
"Yes—if you—if you don't mind."
He laughed. "Bless your heart, it's not for me to mind! I'll get a special licence, and we can be married to-morrow."
She caught her breath.
"To-morrow! Oh, it's too soon!"
"Too soon! What is there to wait for?"
"I shall have to tell them at Heeler's, and there's Peg. … "
"That friend of yours? Well—tell her afterwards—when you tell your mother."
Faith wavered. She would like to have told Peg, but she answered after a moment: "Oh, very well, but—but not to-morrow!"
"Very well—on Saturday, then—that gives you three days to fix things."
"Thank you."
His eyes wandered over her small person.
"Have you got any money?" he demanded.
"I get paid on Saturday—two pounds."
"Two pounds! Good heavens!"—he thrust a hand into his breast pocket, and brought out a bundle of notes. "I'll give you twenty—buy some clothes and make yourself look pretty."
Faith turned from red to white. She drew back when he would have put the money into her hands.
"I can't. Oh, I couldn't," she faltered. "Oh, I should be afraid——"
"Afraid!" He regarded her in amazement, and then, suddenly aware of the tears in her eyes, he added: "Very well—I'll give you ten—is that better? And will that buy a frock?"
She laughed tremulously. "Why, it will buy us all one—me and the twins—and lots of other things besides!"
She gathered up the money with shaking fingers. She was sure that she was dreaming. Even the touch of the crisp banknotes seemed unreal! What would her mother say? What would Peg say? Her head was in a whirl.
"I think I'll drive you back home now," the Beggar Man said, suddenly. "Your mother will be wondering where you are." He spoke to the driver, and the taxi turned about.
The Beggar Man was sitting opposite to Faith now. He kept looking at her in a queer, nervous sort of way. Suddenly he said in his abrupt manner:
"Do you mind if—if I kiss you?"
She raised her brown eyes.
"If you kiss—me!" She echoed the words with fluttering incredulity. "Oh, no, of course not—if you really want to."
"Thank you." He leaned across and kissed her cheek awkwardly.
There was a little silence, then he said, angrily: "Of course, some people would call me an absolute blackguard!"
She looked at him in amazement.
"Why, what do you mean?"
He explained disjointedly.
"You're such a child—and I'm nearly twenty years older than you are. You don't realize what you're doing—marrying me. I may make your life miserable." She smiled serenely.
"You couldn't! How could you? I'm going to be ever so happy." She drew a long breath of rapture. "It's just like a novelette," she said again fervently. The Beggar Man frowned. He let the window down with a run; the rain had almost stopped.
"I think we're quite near your home," he said.
"Perhaps you would rather walk the rest of the way? Or shall I come in and see your mother?"
Faith started up. "Oh, no—I'll walk; I'd much rather."
The taxi stopped and the man got out.
"Well—good-bye. Till to-morrow," he said.
She looked up eagerly.
"Oh, shall I see you again to-morrow?"
"I'll meet you outside Heeler's in the evening."
She looked like a delighted child.
"That will be three days running that I've seen you," she said.
He smiled rather grimly.
"You'll have to see me all day and every day after Saturday," he answered.
CHAPTER III
"Idling again! That's the third time I've had to speak to you this morning."
Miss Dell's harsh voice woke Faith from the day-dream, into which she had fallen over her machine, and set her hurriedly working again.
That the events of yesterday were unreal she was still convinced. A hundred times since she parted from Nicholas Forrester she had put her hand into the little bag containing the money he had given her, which she wore hidden under her frock. That was real enough, at all events. She was too awed by its possession to think of spending it. It seemed to her ignorance that all the wealth of the world was hers.
"If I have to speak to you again I shall report you to the manager," Miss Dell went on. "We've no time for idlers here, you understand."
Faith said "Yes" meekly enough, but she did not feel meek. Only two more days and she would be free of this place for ever. She would never have to trudge to and fro in the heat of the day any more. She could ride in a taxi or the Beggar Man's car to the end of her life.
She cast a swift glance to the table at which Peg generally worked. It was empty to-day, and her machine covered up.
Peg was ill—so the other girls