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[Illustration Caption: Martha told him that he had always been her
ideal and that she worshipped him.]




HER WEIGHT IN GOLD

By GEORGE BARR McCUTCHEON

NEW YORK

1914

Nearly all of the stories presented in this volume appeared separately
in various magazines. The author desires to acknowledge his thanks to
the publications for courtesies extended by their editors: The National
Magazine, Short Stories, the Saturday Evening Post, The Reader, The
Woman's World, Good Housekeeping and The Illustrated Sunday Magazine.




CONTENTS


HER WEIGHT IN GOLD

THE MAID AND THE BLADE

MR. HAMSHAW'S LOVE AFFAIR

THE GREEN RUBY

THE GLOAMING GHOSTS

WHEN GIRL MEETS GIRL

QUIDDLERS THREE

THE LATE MR. TAYLOR

THE TEN DOLLAR BILL




HER WEIGHT IN GOLD


"Well the question is: how much does she weigh?" asked Eddie Ten Eyck
with satirical good humour.

His somewhat flippant inquiry followed the heated remark of General
Horatio Gamble, who, in desperation, had declared that his
step-daughter, Martha, was worth her weight in gold.

The General was quite a figure in the town of Essex. He was the
president of the Town and Country Club and, besides owning a splendid
stud, was also the possessor of a genuine Gainsborough, picked up at
the shop of an obscure dealer in antiques in New York City for a
ridiculously low price (two hundred dollars, it has been said), and
which, according to a rumour started by himself, was worth a hundred
thousand if it was worth a dollar, although he contrived to keep the
secret from the ears of the county tax collector. He had married late
in life, after accumulating a fortune that no woman could despise, and
of late years had taken to frequenting the Club with a far greater
assiduity than is customary in most presidents.

Young Mr. Ten Eyck's sarcasm was inspired by a mind's-eye picture of
Miss Martha Gamble. To quote Jo Grigsby, she was "so plain that all
comparison began and ended with her." Without desiring to appear
ungallant, I may say that there were many homely young women in Essex;
but each of them had the delicate satisfaction of knowing that Martha
was incomparably her superior in that respect.

"I am not jesting, sir," said the General with asperity. "Martha may
not be as good-looking as--er--some girls that I've seen, but she is a
jewel, just the same. The man who gets her for a wife will be a blamed
sight luckier than the fellows who marry the brainless little fools we
see trotting around like butterflies." (It was the first time that
Eddie had heard of trotting butterflies.)

"She's a fine girl," was his conciliatory remark.

"She is pure gold," said the General with conviction. "Pure gold, sir."

"A nugget," agreed Eddie expansively. "A hundred and eighty pound
nugget, General. Why don't you send her to a refinery?"

The General merely glared at him and subsided into thoughtful silence.
He was in the habit of falling into deep spells of abstraction at such
times as this. For the life of him, he couldn't understand how Martha
came by her excessive plainness. Her mother was looked upon as a
beautiful woman and her father (the General's predecessor) had been a
man worth looking at, even from a successor's point of view. That
Martha should have grown up to such appalling ugliness was a source of
wonder, not only to the General, but to Mrs. Gamble herself.

Young Mr. Ten Eyck was the most impecunious spendthrift in Essex. He
lived by his wits, with which he was more generously endowed than
anything in the shape of gold or precious jewels. His raiment was
accumulative. His spending-money came to him through an allowance that
his grandmother considerately delivered to him at regular periods, but
as is the custom with such young men he was penniless before the
quarter was half over. At all times he was precariously close to being
submerged by his obligations. Yet trouble sat lightly upon his head, if
one were to judge by outward appearances. Beneath a bland, care-free
exterior, however, there lurked in Edward's bosom a perpetual pang of
distress over the financial situation.

What worried him most was the conviction that all signs pointed toward
the suspension of credit in places where he owed money, and, Young Mr.
Ten Eyck's sarcasm was inspired by a mind's-eye picture of Miss Martha
Gamble. To quote Jo Grigsby, she was "so plain that all comparison
began and ended with her." Without desiring to appear ungallant, I may
say that there were many homely young women in Essex; but each of them
had the delicate satisfaction of knowing that Martha was incomparably
her superior in that respect.

"I am not jesting, sir," said the General with asperity. "Martha may
not be as good-looking as--er--some girls that I've seen, but she is a
jewel, just the same. The man who gets her for a wife will be a blamed
sight luckier than the fellows who marry the brainless little fools we
see trotting around like butterflies." (It was the first time that
Eddie had heard of trotting butterflies.)

"She's a fine girl," was his conciliatory remark.

"She is pure gold," said the General with conviction. "Pure gold, sir."

"A nugget," agreed Eddie expansively. "A hundred and eighty pound
nugget, General. Why don't you send her to a refinery?"

The General merely glared at him and subsided into thoughtful silence.
He was in the habit of falling into deep spells of abstraction at such
times as this. For the life of him, he couldn't understand how Martha
came by her excessive plainness. Her mother was looked upon as a
beautiful woman and her father (the General's predecessor) had been a
man worth looking at, even from a successor's point of view. That
Martha should have grown up to such appalling ugliness was a source of
wonder, not only to the General, but to Mrs. Gamble herself.

Young Mr. Ten Eyck was the most impecunious spendthrift in Essex. He
lived by his wits, with which he was more generously endowed than
anything in the shape of gold or precious jewels. His raiment was
accumulative. His spending-money came to him through an allowance that
his grandmother considerately delivered to him at regular periods, but
as is the custom with such young men he was penniless before the
quarter was half over. At all times he was precariously close to being
submerged by his obligations. Yet trouble sat lightly upon his head, if
one were to judge by outward appearances. Beneath a bland, care-free
exterior, however, there lurked in Edward's bosom a perpetual pang of
distress over the financial situation.

What worried him most was the conviction that all signs pointed toward
the suspension of credit in places where he owed money, and, as he owed
without discrimination, the future seemed hard to contemplate.

Prudent mothers stood defiantly between him and what might have been
prosperity. He could win the hearts of daughters with shameful
regularity and ease, but he could not delude the heads of the families
to which they belonged. They knew him well and wisely.

The conversation between him and General Gamble took place in the
reading-room of the Town and Country Club. There was a small table
between them, and glasses.

"What is the market price of gold to-day, General?" asked Eddie
impudently, after he had watched the old man's gloomy countenance out
of the corner of his eye for the matter of three minutes or more.

The General regarded him with deep scorn. "Gold? What do you know about
gold? You seldom see anything more precious than copper."

"That's no joke," agreed Eddie with his frank smile. "I am the only,
original penny limit. That reminds me, General. I meant to speak of it
before, but somehow it slipped my mind. Could you lend me--"

The General held up his hand. "I've been waiting for that, Eddie. Don't
humiliate yourself by asking for a small amount. I haven't the remotest
idea how much you already owe me, but it doesn't matter in view of the
fact that you'll never pay it. You were about to request the loan of
ten dollars, my boy. Why not ask for a respectable amount?--say, fifty
dollars."

Eddie's heart leaped. "That's just the amount I meant to ask you to let
me have for a week or two. 'Pon my word, it is."

"Well," said the General, taking a notebook from his pocket and
carefully jotting down an entry with his gold-tipped pencil, "I
cheerfully give it to you, Eddie. I shall credit your account with that
amount. Fifty dollars--um! It is a new system I have concluded to
adopt. Every time you ask me for a loan I shall subtract the amount
from what you already owe me. In time, you see, the whole debt will be
lifted,--and you'll not owe me a cent." Eddie blinked. A slow grin
crept into his face as he grasped the irony in the General's scheme.

"Fine financing, General. It suits me to a dot. By the way, do you
think you can spare another hundred or two?"

"The books are closed for the month," said the General placidly. He
rang the bell on the table. "More ice, boy, and the same bottle. As I
was saying, Eddie, I can't for the life of me see why you fellows are
so blind when it comes to Martha. She is--"

"We are not blind," interrupted Eddie, not at all annoyed by his
failure to negotiate the loan. "That's just the trouble. If a blind man
came along, I've no doubt he could see something attractive in her."

"Damme! If she were my own daughter, I'd thrash you for that remark,
sir."

"If she were your own daughter, you wouldn't be discussing her with a
high-ball in your hand."

The General coughed. "Ahem! Eddie, I'd give a good deal to see that
girl married. Leave the bottle on the table, boy. She will have money--a
lot of it--one of these days. There are dozens of young men that we
know who'd do'most anything for money. I--By George!" He broke off to
stare with glittering eyes at the face of the young man opposite. A
great thought was expanding in his brain.

Eddie shifted nervously. "Why are you looking at me like that? I don't
need it that badly."

"I'd never thought of you, Eddie,--'pon my word I hadn't. Not until
this moment. You need money worse than any one I know. There isn't
another girl in town who would marry you, and Martha