"Because I know a man who's going to have a vacancy soon for a librarian. It's a private library, rather a famous one in New York, and the young lady at present in command is leaving to be married."
"Yes; but what has that got to do with me?"
"Didn't I tell you I was going to look you up another job?"
"No, I didn't. It looked me up. The owner of the library mentioned the fact as a great bore. It was his father who made the collection in the days of the first great American splurge. Stacy Grainger has added a rug or a Chinese jar from time to time, but he doesn't give a hang for the lot."
"Yes; it's his. He says he feels inclined to shut the place up; but I told him it was a pity to do that since I knew the very young lady for the post."
I dropped the subject there, because of a new inspiration.
"If Mr. Grainger has places at his command, couldn't he do something for poor Hugh?"
I gave him a brief account of the fiasco in Boston, venturing to betray Hugh's confidence for the sake of some possible advantage. Mr. Strangways only shrugged his shoulders.
"Of course," he said. "What could you expect?" I was sure he was looking down on me with the expression Mrs. Rossiter had detected, though I didn't dare to lift an eye to catch him in the act. "You really mean to marry him?"
"Mean to marry him is not the term," I answered, with the decision which I felt the situation called for. "I mean to marry him only--on conditions."
"Oh, on conditions! What kind of conditions?"
I named them to him as I had named them to others. First that Hugh should become independent.
"I don't believe you had better bank on that."
"Perhaps not," I admitted. "But I've another string to my bow. His family may come and ask me."
It was the tone they all took, and which especially enraged me. I kept my voice steady, however, as I said, "That remains to be seen."
"It doesn't remain to be seen, because I can tell you now that they won't."
"And I can tell you now that they will," I said, with an assurance that, on the surface at least, was quite as strong as his own.
He laughed again, more shortly, more hardly.
The laugh ended in a kind of sigh. I noted the sigh as I noted the laugh, and their relation to each other. Both reached me, touching something within me that had never yet been stirred. Physically it was like the prick of the spur to a spirited animal, it sent me bounding up the steps. I was off as from a danger; and though I would have given much to see the expression with which he stood gazing after me, I would not permit myself so much as to glance back.