The Fortune Hunter Read online

  II

  BRASS OUTSHINES GOLD

  Hilda returned to her father's shop and was busy there until nineo'clock. Then Sophie Liebers came and they went into the Avenue for awalk. They pushed their way through and with the throngs up intoTompkins Square--the center of one of the several vast districts,little known because little written about, that contain the real NewYork and the real New Yorkers. In the Square several thousand youngpeople were promenading, many of the girls walking in pairs, almost allthe young men paired off, each with a young woman. It was warm, andthe stars beamed down upon the hearts of young lovers, blotting out forthem electric lights and surrounding crowds. It caused no commentthere for a young couple to walk hand in hand, looking each at theother with the expression that makes commonplace eyes wonderful. Andwhen the sound of a kiss came from a somewhat secluded bench, the onlyglances east in the direction whence it had come were glances ofapproval or envy.

  "There's Otto Heilig dogging us," said Hilda to Sophie, as they walkedup and down. "Do you wonder I hate him?" They talked in American, asdid all the young people, except with those of their elders who couldspeak only German.

  Sophie was silent. If Hilda had been noting her face she would haveseen a look of satisfaction.

  "I can't bear him," went on Hilda. "No girl could. He's so stupidand--and common!" Never before had she used that last word in such asense. Mr. Feuerstein had begun to educate her.

  Sophie's unobserved look changed to resentment. "Of course he's notequal to Mr. Feuerstein," she said. "But he's a very nice fellow--atleast for an ordinary girl." Sophie's father was an upholsterer, andnot a good one. He owned no tenements--was barely able to pay the rentfor a small corner of one. Thus her sole dower was her pretty face andher cunning. She had an industrious, scheming, not overscrupulousbrain and--her hopes and plans. Nor had she time to waste. For shewas nearer twenty-three than twenty-two, at the outer edge of themarriageable age of Avenue A, which believes in an early start at whatit regards as the main business of life--the family.

  "You surely couldn't marry such a man as Otto!" said Hilda absently.Her eyes were searching the crowd, near and far.

  Sophie laughed. "Beggars can't be choosers," she answered. "I thinkhe's all right--as men go. It wouldn't do for me to expect too much."

  Just then Hilda caught sight of Mr. Feuerstein--the godlike head, theglorious hair, the graceful hat. Her manner changed--her eyesbrightened, her cheeks reddened, and she talked fast and laughed agreat deal. As they passed near him she laughed loudly and called outto Sophie as if she were not at her elbow--she feared he would not see.Mr. Feuerstein turned his picturesque head, slowly lifted his hat andjoined them. At once Hilda became silent, listening with raptattention to the commonplaces he delivered in sonorous, oracular tones.

  As he deigned to talk only to Hilda, who was walking between Sophie andhim, Sophie was free to gaze round. She spied Otto Heilig droopingdejectedly along. She adroitly steered her party so that it crossedhis path. He looked up to find himself staring at Hilda. She frownedat this disagreeable apparition into her happiness, and quickened herstep. But Sophie, without letting go of Hilda's hand, paused and spoketo Otto. Thus Hilda was forced to stop and to say ungraciously: "Mr.Feuerstein, Mr. Heilig."

  Then she and Mr. Feuerstein went on, and Sophie drew the reluctant Ottoin behind them. She gradually slackened her pace, so that she andHeilig dropped back until several couples separated them from Hilda andMr. Feuerstein. A few minutes and Hilda and Mr. Feuerstein were seatedon a bench in the deep shadow of a tree, Sophie and Heilig walkingslowly to and fro a short distance away.

  Heilig was miserable with despondent jealousy. He longed to inquireabout this remarkable-looking new friend of Hilda's. For Mr.Feuerstein seemed to be of that class of strangers whom Avenue Acondemns on their very appearance. It associates respectability withwork only, and it therefore suspects those who look as if they did notwork and did not know how. Sophie was soon answering of her own accordthe questions Heilig as a gentleman could not ask. "You must haveheard of Mr. Feuerstein? He's an actor--at the German Theater. Idon't think he's much of an actor--he's one of the kind that do alltheir acting off the stage."

  Heilig laughed unnaturally. He did not feel like laughing, but wishedto show his gratitude to Sophie for this shrewd blow at his enemy."He's rigged out like a lunatic, isn't he?" Otto was thinking of thelong hair, the low-rolling shirt collar and the velvet collar on hiscoat,--light gray, to match his hat and suit.

  "I don't see what Hilda finds in him," continued Sophie. "It makes melaugh to look at him; and when he talks I can hardly keep fromscreaming in his face. But Hilda's crazy over him, as you see. Hetells all sorts of romances about himself, and she believes every word.I think she'll marry him--you know, her father lets her do as shepleases. Isn't it funny that a sensible girl like Hilda can be sofoolish?"

  Heilig did not answer this, nor did he heed the talk on love andmarriage which the over-eager Sophie proceeded to give. And it wastalk worth listening to, as it presented love and marriage in theinteresting, romantic-sensible Avenue A light. Otto was staringgloomily at the shadow of the tree. He would have been gloomier couldhe have witnessed the scene to which the unmoral old elm was lendingits impartial shade.

  Mr. Feuerstein was holding Hilda's hand while he looked soulfully downinto her eyes. She was returning his gaze, her eyes expressing allthe Schwarmerei of which their dark depths were capable at nineteen.He was telling her what a high profession the actor's was, how great hewas as an actor, how commonplace her life there, how beautiful he couldmake it if only he had money. It was an experience to hear Mr.Feuerstein say the word "money." Elocution could go no further insurcharging five letters with contempt. His was one of those loftynatures that scorn all such matters of intimate concern to the humble,hard-pressed little human animal as food, clothing and shelter. He soloathed money that he would not deign to work for it, and as rapidly aspossible got rid of any that came into his possession.

  "Yes, my adorable little princess," he rolled out, in the tones whichwove a spell over Hilda. "I adore you. How strange that _I_ shouldhave wandered into THIS region for my soul's bride--and should havefound her!"

  Hilda pressed his clasping hand and her heart fluttered. But she wasas silent and shy as Heilig with her. What words had she fit toexpress response to these exalted emotions? "I--I feel it," she saidtimidly. "But I can't say it to you. You must think me very foolish."

  "No--you need not speak. I know what you would say. Our hearts speakeach to the other without words, my beautiful jewel. And what do youthink your parents will say?"

  "I--I don't know," stammered Hilda.

  "They are so set on my marrying"--she glanced toward Otto--how ordinaryhe looked!--"marrying another--a merchant like my father. They thinkonly of what is practical. I'm so afraid they won't understand--US."

  Feuerstein sighed--the darkness prevented her from seeing that he wasalso frowning with impatience and irritation.

  "But it must be settled at once, my heart's bride," he said gently."Secrecy, deception are horrible to me. And I am mad to claim you asmy own. I could not take you without their consent--that would beunworthy. No, I could not grieve their honest hearts!"

  Hilda was much disturbed. She was eminently practical herself, asidefrom her fondness for romance, which Mr. Feuerstein was developing in away so unnatural in her surroundings, so foreign to her education; andshe could see just how her father would look upon her lover. Shefeared he would vent plain speech that would cut Mr. Feuerstein'ssensitive soul and embattle his dignity and pride against his love."I'll speak to them as soon as I can," she said.

  "Then you will speak to them to-morrow or next day, my treasure, and Ishall see you on Sunday afternoon."

  "No--not Sunday afternoon. I must stay at home--father has ordered it."

  "Disappointment--deception--postponement!" Feuerstein struck his handupon his brow and sighed tr
agically. "Oh, my little Erebus-hairedangel, how you do test my love!"

  Hilda was almost in tears--it was all intensely real to her. She feltthat he was superfine, that he suffered more than ordinary folk, likeherself and her people. "I'll do the best I can," she pleaded.

  "It would be best for you to introduce them to me at once and let MEspeak."

  "No--no," she protested earnestly, terror in her voice and her handtrembling in his. "That would spoil everything. You wouldn'tunderstand them, or they you. I'll speak--and see you Monday night."

  "Let it be so," he conceded. "But I must depart. I am studying a newrole." He had an engagement to take supper with several of hisintimates at the Irving Place cafe, where he could throw aside theheaviest parts of his pose and give way to his appetite for beer andSchweizerkase sandwiches. "How happy we shall be!" he murmuredtenderly, kissing her cheek and thinking how hard it was to bepractical and keep remote benefits in mind when she was so beautifuland so tempting and so trustful. He said aloud: "I am impatient,soul's delight! Is it strange?" And he bowed like a stage courtier toa stage queen and left her.

  She joined Sophie and Heilig and walked along in silence, Sophiebetween Otto and her. He caught glimpses of her face, and it made hisheart ache and his courage faint to see the love-light in her eyes--andshe as far away from him as Heaven from hell, far away in a world fromwhich he was excluded. He and Sophie left her at her father's and hetook Sophie home.

  Sophie felt that she had done a fair evening's work--not progress, butprogress in sight. "At least," she reflected, "he's seeing that heisn't in it with Hilda and never can be. I must hurry her on and gether married to that fool. A pair of fools!"

  Heilig found his mother waiting up for him. As she saw his expression,anxiety left her face, but cast a deeper shadow over her heart. Shefelt his sorrow as keenly as he--she who would have laid down her lifefor him gladly.

  "Don't lose heart, my big boy," she said, patting him on the shoulderas he bent to kiss her.

  At this he dropped down beside her and hid his face in her lap andcried like the boy-man that he was. "Ach, Gott, mother, I love herSO!" he sobbed.

  Her tears fell on the back of his head. Her boy--who had gone sobravely to work when the father was killed at his machine, leaving thempenniless; her boy--who had laughed and sung and whistled and diffusedhope and courage and made her feel that the burden was not a burden buta joy for his strong, young shoulders.

  "Courage, beloved!" she said. "Hilda is a good girl. All will yet bewell." And she felt it--God would not be God if He could let thisheart of gold be crushed to powder.