To the joy of the conspirators, Bucks held Glover closely at
headquarters, keeping him closeted for long periods on the estimates
that were in final cooking for the directors; and so dense are great
people and so keen the simple, that Gertrude held her lone seat of
honor beside her father, at the table of the great financiers in the
dining-room, without the remotest suspicion on their parts that the
superb woman meeting them three times a day was carrying on a
proudly-hidden love affair with the muscular, absorbed-looking man who
sat alone across the aisle.
But the asthmatic old pastry cook, who weighed at least two hundred and
thirty pounds and had not even seen the inside of the dining-room for
three years, was thoroughly posted on every observable phase of the
affair down to the dessert orders; and no one acquainted with the frank
profanity of a mountain meat cook will doubt that the best of
everything went hot from the range to Glover and Gertrude. Dollar tips
and five-dollar tips from Eastern epicures could not change this, for
the meals were served by waitresses who felt a personal responsibility
in the issue of the pretty affair of the heart.
The whole second floor of the little hotel had been reserved for the
directors' party, and among the rooms was the parlor. There Glover
called regularly every evening on Mr. Brock, who, somewhat at a loss to
understand the young man's interest, excused himself after the first
few minutes and left Gertrude to entertain the gentleman who had been
so kind to everybody that she could not be discourteous even if he was
somewhat tedious.
One night after a particularly happy evening near the piano for
Gertrude and Glover, Mr. Brock, re-entering the parlor, found the
somewhat tedious gentleman bending very low, as his daughter said
good-night, over her hand; in fact, the gentleman that had been so kind
to everybody was kissing it.
When Glover recovered his perpendicular the cold magnate of the West
End stood between the folding doors looking directly at him. If the
owner of several trunk lines expected his look to inspire consternation
he was disappointed. Each of the lovers feared but one person in the
world; that was the other. Gertrude, with perhaps an extra touch of
dignity, put her compromised hand to her belt for her handkerchief.
Glover finished the sentence he was in the middle of--"If I am not
ordered out. Good-night."
But when Mr. Brock had turned abruptly on his heel and disappeared
between the portières they certainly did look at one another.
"Have I got you into trouble now?" murmured Glover, penitently.
Uneasiness was apparent in her expression, but with her back to the
piano Gertrude stood steadfast.
"Not," she said, with serious tenderness, "just now. Don't you know?
It was the first, the very first, day you looked into my eyes, dear,
that you got me into trouble."