Invincible Minnie/Book 2/Chapter 16

hurried downstairs to meet Lionel the next evening, flushed and resolute.

“Let’s walk!” she said.

“It’s raining”

“I don’t care. I want to talk to you. I must!”

He didn’t approve of walking in the rain; he thought it imprudent and eccentric, so that he was somewhat stiff; but she took no notice of that. She thrust her hand through his arm and squeezed it a little.

“Lionel!” she whispered, “Shall we get married?”

“My dearest girl!” he cried. “You know there’s nothing on God’s earth I want so much. But”

“No! Listen! We can!”

And she told him Miss Eppendorfer’s plan. He refused violently; it wasn’t fair to Frankie; he would be a cad, a beast.

“You’ll be much more of a beast if you won’t. We can be happy. I’ll save up, and after you find a job, you can save too, so that we can soon have a home of our own. And until then, of course, we’ll keep it a secret. But, oh, Lionel, I do so want us to be safely married, so that no one can separate us. So that if you were to be sick, I could look after you.”

He comprehended perfectly and sympathised with that curious and touching idea of all lovers; that if only they can be married, no ill can touch them; they are safe.

“I can’t!” he said. “Absolutely I can’t. Don’t you see, old girl, I want to give you something—I don’t want to take everything from you. I want”

“Don’t let pride stand in the way!” she entreated. “Lionel, only suppose one of us were to die! Dear, darling old boy, let’s be brave. Let’s just go ahead, and if things are hard, why, we’ll go through with them together.”

“I ought not,” he said miserably. “It’s not fair to you.”

He felt obliged to bring forward all the objections which obviously presented themselves, but he did so without spirit. For the preposterous idea appealed to him irresistibly. He said, “Wait,” but he didn’t mean it. He abhorred waiting at all times, and above all, waiting for Frankie. She kindled him, thrilled him with her serious madness.

“We can’t waste our best years,” said Frankie. “Really, Lionel, it’s not a silly plan. I’m not rash, you know it. I know this will be the best plan for us both.”

She was determined to hold him tightly, to defend him from his own weakness, to fortify him. For this, any sacrifice of pride, of worldly advantage, was justified. She had to marry Lionel to save him, even if in saving him everything else was lost.

“I’m not convinced,” he insisted, “but, old girl, I haven’t got the strength to refuse. I’d have to be more than mortal to refuse to marry my beautiful girl.”

“Stop being so wretched!” she ordered. “We’re going to be happy. We’re going to help each other.”

He caught her in his arms.

“Darling!” he cried, “I’ll—I’d do anything to make you happy. I’ll try. I’m not good enough, but I’ll try. I—absolutely worship you, Frankie!”

And added, more quietly:

“And when you’re my wife, I’ll amount to something.”

He went to the Grand Central with her on Christmas Eve, to say good-bye, for conscience compelled her to go back to Brownsville Landing for the holidays. They were both in a mood of rapture, although Frankie was somewhat obsessed by finances. She had given Lionel five envelopes, each containing just enough money for one of the five days she was to be away.

“Now remember!” she warned, “that’s all you’ve got, until I get back. I’ll come early on New Year’s morning, and Miss Eppendorfer’ll give me my cheque. She never keeps me waiting a day. Then I’ll lend you that until the fifteenth. But do please, please be careful of what you’ve got! Remember it’s all you’ve got! You will be sensible, won’t you?”

“No. Frankie, aren’t you sorry to think of my being all alone on Christmas day in a beastly cheap boarding-house?”

“You know I am! But don’t think about it, dear; think about the sixteenth.”

They had planned to be married then, the very day after his quarterly remittance came.

“Five minutes to! We’d better go down to the lower level. Oh, dear old boy, I do hate to leave you! You will be careful, won’t you? About everything. About money—and you know what!”

“Dashed if I do! Money and what?”

Her eyes filled with tears.

“About—drinking,” she whispered.

“Oh, by Jove!” he cried, startled. “But, my dear girl, I don’t go in for that, you know. I’m not quite a drunkard.”

“I know! I know, darling! Only I had to say it. Don’t be offended!”

“Of course not, you blessed baby!”

“And you will take at least one glass of milk a day, won’t you? You’re so thin! And”

“I shall! I shall!” he cried, laughing. “Come on, old girl! The gates are open. I say! It’s perfectly all right to kiss you good-bye, isn’t it? I might be your brother—or your husband. Everyone does, eh?”

She reflected.

“Yes,” she said, with a blush, and raised her face to his. “Good-bye! God bless you, my own boy! Take care of yourself! I shall think of you every minute!”

“Good-bye, my beautiful girl!” he answered. “God bless you! Come back to me soon!”

He stood watching her down the platform, strong, eager, and splendid. Saw her go, never to return to him.