Contrary Mary

As for himself, in spite of his Buff-Orpington crest, and his

cock-o'-the-walk manner, Porter was, as far Mary was concerned,

saturated with humility. He knew that his money, his family's social

eminence were as nothing in her eyes. If underneath the weight of

these things Mary could find enough of a man in him to love that could

be his only hope. And that hope had held him for years to certain

rather sedate ambitions, and had given him moral standards which had

delighted his mother and had puzzled his father.

"Whatever I am as a man, you've made me," he said to Mary two hours

later, in the intermission between the second and third acts of the

musical comedy, which, for a time, had claimed their attention. Aunt

Isabelle, in front of the box, was smiling gently, happy in the golden

light and the nearness of the music. Barry was visiting Leila and the

General who were just below, in orchestra chairs.

"Whatever I am as a man, you've made me," Porter repeated, "and now, if

you'll only let me take care of you----"

Hitherto, Mary had treated his love-making lightly, but to-night she

turned upon him her troubled eyes. "Porter, you know I can't. But

there are times when I wish--I could----"

"Then why not?"

She stopped him with a gesture. "It wouldn't be right. I'm simply

feeling lonely and lost because Constance is so far away. But that

isn't any reason for marrying you. You deserve a woman who cares, who

really cares, heart and soul. And I can't, dear boy."

"I was a fool to think you might," savagely, "a man with a red head is

always a joke."

"As if that had anything to do with it."

"But it has, Mary. You know as well as I do that when I was a

youngster I was always Reddy Bigelow to our crowd--Reddy Bigelow with a

carrot-head and freckles. If I had been poor and common, life wouldn't

have been worth living. But mother's family and Dad's money fixed that

for me. And I had an allowance big enough to supply the neighborhood

with sweets. You were a little thing, but you were sorry for me, and I

didn't have to buy you. But I'd buy you now--with a house in town and

a country house, and motor cars and lovely clothes--if I thought it

would do any good, Mary."

"You wouldn't want me that way, Porter."

"I want you--any way."