Mrs. Gernsbacher must have been very accessible and easily persuaded, for in less than ten minutes the girl was back again, flushed with triumph. "It's all right," she announced. "Beccy G's standing in the basement door, waiting for you to pop in. Bill, you show him the way to Beccy's. Goodbye, Mr. Gordon. Don't stay here another minute. I'll be over as soon as I can, to tell you what's up--and I'll send Bill along at noon with something good for your dinner."
Carried off his feet by her enthusiasm, Loveland did not stop for further argument. Caught by an eddy in the tide of fate, he let himself be swept away.
Nothing had happened when Bill Willing came at half-past twelve, to find Loveland an inappropriately ornamental figure, keeping guard in Mrs. Gernsbacher's kitchen during that lady's absence on a shopping expedition: nothing had happened worth reporting, except that Alexander the Great was "around again."
Isidora had sent, wrapped in a Japanese paper napkin, a ham-sandwich, and a generous slice of pumpkin-pie, a delicacy strange to the Englishman's palate. Bill had brought food for himself, too (that part of his wage which he took out in kind), preferring a cold picnic meal with his friend to the hot meat and potatoes he might have had at the restaurant. He also was provided with pie and a sandwich, and though his portion was smaller than Isidora's surreptitious gift to "Mr. Gordon," he had smuggled in his pocket a bottle of ginger ale for both.
"Have you read the beastly newspaper article about me?" Val forced himself to enquire.
"No," answered Bill, "I ain't seen it. Miss Izzie offered me the paper, but I--well, I didn't care to read it. Seemed as if 'twould sorter be spying on you, behind your back."
"You're a good fellow," said Val. It was a new idea, only born to him last night, that a shabby waif like Bill--a mere autumn leaf, blown here and there by contrary winds of circumstance--could be a "good fellow," with the heart of a man. But here was such a one. And it seemed to Lord Loveland that the leaf was very like a gentleman.
"I don't see where the goodness comes in," protested Bill, modestly. "But I can run back and sneak the paper, if you've changed your mind and want a squint at it."