University of Virginia Library

6. Part VI

Work it up? She exploded it! Woof! I've heard some scandal in my time, but never any as juicy as the gossip resulting from the friendship that suddenly sprang up between Miss Claremont and poor little Eddie.

Of course, the friendship didn't really spring up; Miss Claremont reared it — carefully. And, also of course, it wasn't a friendship; it was a combination of hypnotic terror and business expediency. Eddie was hypnotized and terrified, while Miss Claremont was simply working at her trade.

And the things that were said of Miss Claremont! Tell me, why do all women hate an actress? Oh, yes, they do! All women hate actresses they've met. I know they write notes to some they've never seen off the stage, but after they once get as much as an introduction they write notes about them. Why? Sour grapes?

Anyhow, what the ladies at the Bonavita, married, single, young, and otherwise, said about Miss Claremont after she took up with Eddie would have scorched the ears of an asbestos idol.

She was delighted with the way people had taken notice.

"It couldn't be better," she told me. "Poor little Eddie's been the old ladies' friend for so long that his sudden attachment to a wicked actress stirs up

real talk. You know," she said, "if a bartender marries a burlesque queen, it's hardly worth a mention; but if a Methodist minister elopes with a show-girl, it's good for columns, and the A. P. wires get all choked up with the horrible details. Of course, Eddie isn't a minister, but be ought to be. He's the shyest man! I have to locate him every morning by keen deduction, and kidnap him by force. If he could escape me by guile or main strength, he would. If he's ever been kissed, some female brute must have sneaked up on him when he wasn't looking, and held him helpless. I'm only afraid he'll run out on me before Jack gets here!"

Helen Ardsley was as indignant over poor little Eddie's capture by the Thespian enemy as anybody. She besought me to do something about it before it was too late.

"He seems such a nice boy," she said. "It's a shame! I know he hasn't taken up with that woman of his own accord. She's hypnotized him. Heretofore he's always been so courteous and attentive to the elderly ladies at the hotel, and now he spends his entire time with that hussy! And I know he doesn't do it willingly, either. I can see by his expression when he's with her that he's ashamed."

"It 'll do Eddie good," I assured her. "He needs experience. Poor little Eddie! I don't think he ever went twice with the same girl before; never could find one foolish enough to repeat the mistake of going out with him. He's all right, but he's simple."

I didn't realize how simple he was till he came to me with his trouble.

"I don't love Miss Claremont, old man," he said, as solemn as a sign-painter talking about art. "And I'm afraid she's becoming attached to me. I wouldn't cause her pain for the world. I've tried to make her see that I can never return her love, but she insists on my going about with her. I simply can't marry her."

"Why not?" I asked him. "She seems a nice girl."

"I love another," he said, like a man making his last statement. "I love another."

That was the first time I ever had a real case of hysterics.

"I didn't know you'd ever had a girl, Eddie," I said, when I'd recovered sufficiently to speak. "I never saw you twice with the same one."

"I am poor," Eddie said. "I am unworthy. I have never told her of my love; but I love her!"

That was like him! If he ever loved a girl, he wouldn't tell her. He'd keep it a secret. Boob to the bone, I tell you — absolutely!