Part 40

“Nonsense!” cried Dick. “Don't be a baby. Come in.”

Together they entered and, laying aside her wrap, Iola sat down and drew forth Barney's letter.

“Listen, Dick. I want your advice.” And she read over such portions of Barney's letter as she thought necessary.

“Well?” she said, as Dick remained silent.

“Well,” replied Dick, “what's your answer to be?”

“You know what he means,” said Iola a little impatiently. “He wants me to marry him at once and to settle down.”

“Well,” said Dick, “why not?”

“Now, Dick,” cried Iola, “do you think I am suited for that kind of life? Can you picture me devoting myself to the keeping of a house tidy, the overseeing of meals? I fancy I see myself spending the long, quiet evenings, my husband busy in his office or out among his patients while I dose and yawn and grow fat and old and ugly, and the great world forgetting. Dick, I should die! Of course, I love Barney. But I must have life, movement. I can't be forgotten!”

“Forgotten?” cried Dick. “Why should you be forgotten? Barney's wife could not be ignored and the world could not forget you. And, after all,” added Dick, in a musing tone, “to live with Barney ought to be good enough for any woman.”

“Why, how eloquent you are, Dick!” she cried, making a little moue. “You are quite irresistible!” she added, leaning toward him with a mocking laugh.

“Come, let us go,” said Dick painfully, conscious of her physical charm. “We must get away.”

“But you haven't helped me, Dick,” she cried, drawing nearer to him and laying her hand upon his arm.

The perfume of her hair smote upon his senses. The beauty of her face and form intoxicated him.

He knew he was losing control of himself.

“Come, Iola,” he said, “let us go.”

“Tell me what to say, Dick,” she replied, smiling into his face and leaning toward him.

“How can I tell you?” cried Dick desperately, springing up. “I only know you are beautiful, Iola, beautiful as an angel, as a devil! What has come over you, or is it me, that you should affect me so? Do you know,” he added roughly, lifting her to her feet, his breath coming hard and fast, “I can hardly keep my hands off you. We must go. I must go. Come!”

“Poor child,” mocked Iola, still smiling into his eyes, “is it afraid it will get hurt?”

“Stop it, Iola!” cried Dick. “Come on!”

“Come,” she mocked, still leaning toward him.

Swiftly Dick turned, seized her in his arms, his eyes burning down upon her mocking face. “Kiss me!” he commanded.

Gradually she allowed the weight of her body to lean upon him, drawing him steadily down toward her the while, with the deep, passionate lure of her lustrous eyes.

“Kiss me!” he commanded again. But she shook her head, holding him still with her gaze.

“God in heaven!” cried Dick. “Go away!” He made to push her from him. She clasped him about the neck, allowing herself to sink in his arms with her face turned upward to his. Fiercely he crushed her to him, and again and again his hot, passionate kisses fell upon her face.

Conscious only of the passion throbbing in their hearts and pulsing through their bodies, oblivious to all about them, they heard not the opening of the door and knew not that a man had entered the room. For a single moment he stood stricken with horror as if gazing upon death itself. Turning to depart, his foot caught a chair. Terror-smitten, the two sprang apart and stood with guilt and shame stamped upon their ghastly faces.

“Barney!” they cried together.

Slowly he came back to them. “Yes, it is I.” The words seemed to come from some far distance. “I couldn't wait. I came for my answer, Iola. I thought I could persuade you better. I have it now. I have lost you! And”--here he turned to Dick--“oh, my God! My God! I have lost my brother, too!” he turned to depart from him.

“Barney,” cried Dick passionately, “there was no wrong! There was nothing beyond what you saw!”