the little breeze had held all night, and this morning the trees and shrubs were quite dry again, but looking better for their bath. it was sunday, and as the canoe floated into the harbor of the lotus pool a distant church bell was ringing. perhaps, he told himself with a sudden sinking of the heart, he was doomed to another day without sight of clytie; for it might be that the family would drive to church. but the first fair look about him dispelled his forebodings. she was standing at the border of the pool throwing crumbs of bread to the swans. she saw him at almost the same moment and smiled.
more river
[114]
“don’t come any nearer, please,” she said. “you’ll scare them.”
he dipped his paddle obediently and sat silent in the rocking craft until the last crumb had been distributed and she had brushed the crumbs from her outstretched hands. stooping, she picked a book from the grass and faced him.
she was throwing crumbs of bread to the swans.
“may i come ashore?” he asked.
“you are already trespassing dreadfully,” she objected.
“‘in for a penny, in for a pound,’” he replied, sending the canoe forward. “‘might as well be hanged for a sheep as a lamb.’ and if i could think of any other proverbs applicable to the matter i’d quote them.” he jumped out and pulled the bow of the canoe onto the turf.
“you won’t mind, however, if i[115] decline to stay and be hung with you?” she asked.
“on the contrary, i should mind very much. in fact, i demand that you remain and go bail for me in case i’m apprehended.”
“i fear i couldn’t afford it,” she answered.
“doubtless your word would serve,” he said. “perhaps, if you told them the excellent character i bear, you might get me off scot-free.”
“but i don’t think i know enough about your character.”
“there’s something in that,” he allowed. “perhaps you had better observe me closely for the next hour or two. one can learn a great deal about another person’s character by observation.”
“how can i do that if i go to church?”
[116]
“you can’t. that’s one reason why you’re not going to church.”
“oh! and—are there other reasons?”
“yes.”
“perhaps you had better give a few of them. i don’t think the first one is especially convincing.”
“well, another one is that i haven’t seen you for three days.”
she shook her head gravely.
clytie
“go on, please.”
“not good enough? well, then, another reason is that you haven’t seen me for three days.”
she laughed amusedly.
“worse and worse,” she said.
“i didn’t think you’d care much for that argument,” he responded cheerfully. “it was somewhat in the nature of an experiment, you see. but the real unanswerable reason is this:[117] i have missed seeing you very much, i have been very dull, you are naturally kind-hearted and would not unnecessarily cause pain or disappointment, and i beg of you to give me a few moments of your cheerful society! is that—better?”
“i don’t particularly care for it.”
“miss devereux——”
“what have i told you?” she warned.
“i beg pardon! but—now, really, please let me call you by a christian name! i—i’d like to graduate from mythology.”
“i don’t think it would be proper for you to call me by my christian name,” she answered demurely.
“a christian name, i said,” he answered patiently. “tell me why you don’t want me to address you as miss devereux, please.”
[118]
“because——” she stopped and dropped her gaze. “we’ve never been properly introduced, have we?”
“true! allow me, pray! miss devereux, may i present mr. parmley? mr. parmley, miss devereux!” he stepped forward, smiling politely and murmuring his pleasure, and ere she knew what was happening he was shaking hands with her. “awfully glad to meet you, miss devereux!” he assured her cordially.
he was shaking hands with her
she backed away, striving to draw her hand from his, and laughing merrily.
“is that what you call a proper introduction?” she asked.
“well, it’s the best i could do under the circumstances,” ethan answered. “having no mutual acquaintances handy, you see——”
“don’t you think—you might let go[119] now?” she asked, her laughter dying down to a nervous smile.
“let go?” he echoed questioningly.
“please! you have my hand!”
he looked down at it in mild surprise; then into her face.
“isn’t that the strangest thing? i was never so surprised——!”
“but—mr. parmley, please let go,” she begged.
“you don’t mean to say that i still have it?” he tried to seem at ease and to speak carelessly, but his heart was pounding as though striving to do the anvil chorus all by itself, and his voice wasn’t quite steady.
“i do,” she answered coldly, biting her lip a little. a disk of red burned in each cheek. her eyes were fixed on his imprisoning hand. “besides, you are hurting me,” she added, falling[120] back upon the fib which is a woman’s last resource in such a quandary. but he shook his head soberly.
“pardon me, but that’s impossible. you will observe that my hand is quite loose about yours. accuse me of unlawful detention, if you wish, but not of cruelty.”
“but—but it is my hand,” she protested faintly.
“well, that is nothing to boast of,” he replied smiling somewhat tremulously. she had kept her eyes from him all along and he was determined to see them before he gave up. “look at mine; it’s twice as big!”
the brown lashes fluttered for an instant and ethan nerved himself for the shock of looking into those violet eyes. he didn’t know what was going to happen, he assured himself in a sudden delicious panic, and he didn’t[121] much care. probably he would do something awfully rude, something that would frighten and anger her, something for which she would never forgive him! perhaps the sudden trembling of his hand about hers warned her, for the lashes lay still again. a moment of silence followed, during which ethan’s heart threatened to choke him. then all at once the little warm hand ceased tugging and lay limp and inert in his. she turned her head and looked toward the trees and the shade.
“if we are going to hold hands for any length of time,” she remarked coolly, “perhaps we had better sit down and be comfortable.”
ethan released her instantly, while a wave of burning color swept across his face. he felt terribly small and ridiculous! he realized that he had[122] taken it for granted that she had been experiencing emotions similar to his own, and instead of that she had been only bored and—and exasperated! he followed her laggingly up the slope, savagely calling himself names and meditating a retirement in such order as was still possible. she seated herself comfortably on the grass with her back against the smooth round trunk of a maple and patted down her skirts. then she glanced up at him calmly.
“do you realize,” she asked, “that you have made me late for church?”
he was grateful for that ready change of subject and piqued that she should be so little disconcerted. his own heart was still dancing.
“i am an humble instrument of providence,” he answered as lightly as he could, dropping to the ground[123] at a respectful distance from the tips of her small shoes.
ethan and clytie on the bank
“that sounds a little sacrilegious,” she said. “besides—humble?”
“humble, yes,” he answered. “i can’t think of a better word, unless it is ‘abashed.’”
“but why do you call yourself an instrument of providence? because you live there?”
“‘that sounds a little sacrilegious,’” he quoted. “i meant that if you had gone to church you would have made yourself very warm and possibly returned with a headache. i have saved you from that.”
“thank you! but of course if it hadn’t been for the introduction i couldn’t have stayed!”
“that is understood,” he responded with becoming gravity. she smiled across as though amused by some[124] thought, and ethan felt vaguely uncomfortable.
“it’s possible,” she said thoughtfully, “that you might have found a mutual acquaintance after all to perform the ceremony for you.”
“oh, i dare say; one usually can if one hunts long enough. it’s a common enough process, and not especially difficult. for instance, i ask, ‘you are acquainted in boston, miss dev—miss unknown!’ you reply ‘slightly, mr. parmley.’ ‘perhaps you know the smiths?’ ‘smith, smith? n—no, i don’t think so. are they friends of the joneses?’ ‘i dare say; i’ve never met the joneses. come to think of it, though, there were some joneses visiting the robinsons at nahant last summer; he is a banker, i think; there were two daughters and a son just entering college,’ ‘oh, were you at nahant?’[125] you inquire. ‘then perhaps you met the browns there?’ ‘yes.’ ‘really? isn’t that jolly? did you know gwendolin?’ ‘well, rather!’ i reply in a tone insinuating that it was rather desperate while it lasted. ‘isn’t that odd?’ you exclaim. ‘yes, funny how small the world is, isn’t it?’ i remark with startling originality. then we’re acquainted. yes, it’s simplicity itself.”
“it certainly sounds so!” she laughed. “let us try it!”
“very well.”
she frowned intently for a moment, then,
“are you acquainted in stillhaven, mr. parmley?” she asked.
“why, yes,” he answered, in surprise.
“then perhaps you know the—the penniwells?”
[126]
“sorry to say i don’t,” he replied, laughing.
“no? they live in the next house to the hotel.”
“hotel? ah, i think i’ve met the hotels! was there a son about my age, with——”
“don’t be absurd!” she laughed. “we’ll never get on if you don’t go by the rules.”
“i thought i was,” he answered.
“let me see! oh, yes, the graveses, do you know them?”
“why, yes; do you?” he answered interestedly.
“i’ve met them.”
“vincent is a great friend of mine,” he said eagerly. “i was on my way to visit them for a while when—when i stopped here.”
“really?” she cried. “how small the world is, after all!”
[127]
they laughed together. then,
“and you know vin?” he asked.
“yes, i—i’ve met him,” she replied. her tone hinted of embarrassment.
“oh!” said ethan thoughtfully. had he discovered the explanation of vincent’s puzzling warning? was the girl before him the “preserves” referred to by his friend? ethan’s heart sank for a moment. nonsense! she had plainly implied that she knew him only slightly, in which case she didn’t belong any more to vin than to him. “you don’t know him very well, then?” he questioned anxiously.
“aren’t you a—well, just a weeny bit inquisitive?” she asked smilingly.
“it may sound so,” he acknowledged, “but, you see, it means a good deal to me; it’s rather important.”
swan
[128]
“important?” she repeated wonderingly.
“yes, you see——” but of course he couldn’t explain why it was important. so he floundered helplessly a moment. “yes—that is—well, they are very good friends of mine, vin especially, and—”
“oh, you feared perhaps i wasn’t a proper person for them to know?”
“good heaven, no!”
“then i don’t see——!”
“i don’t blame you,” he said discouragedly. “really, i was only talking nonsense. i—i thought that if you knew them well, and i knew them well, then we—we might know each other well!”
she gazed at him sorrowfully a moment. then she shook her head disappointedly.
“no,” she said, “no, that wasn’t[129] at all what you meant. i suppose even studying for the law has its effect.”
he laughed embarrassedly.
“may i see what you are reading?” he asked.
she lifted the volume from her lap, gravely took a folded handkerchief from between the leaves where it had been doing duty as a mark, and handed him the book.
“i’m sorry you can’t trust me,” he laughed.
“so am i,” was the regretful response. “it is terrible to have a friend both a—a prevaricator and a—a—a——”
“embezzler,” he suggested helpfully. “yes, it is bad. ‘love sonnets from the portuguese,’” he continued, reading the title. “may i ask if you were going to take this to church with you?”
[130]
“i hadn’t thought of it. i suppose, like most men, you consider them silly and sentimental,” she challenged.
he shook his head.
“sweet and sentimental, rather,” he replied.
“you could hardly be expected to care for them, i suppose,” she said. “your tastes, if i recollect aright, run rather toward ‘the ingoldsby legends’!”
“that is indeed unkind,” he murmured sorrowfully. “no, i am very fond of these, this one especially; if it were not sunday i would read it.”
“what has sunday got to do with it?” she asked.
“perhaps nothing,” was the reply. “i dare say it is only my puritanism cropping out. you know we new englanders find it very difficult to reconcile pleasure with religion. i[131] can fancy the ghost of my great-great-great-grandfather, in sugar-loaf hat and with beruffed neck, standing over there in the shadows, holding his hands aloft in holy horror at the sight of me sitting here on sunday morning with a volume of love-poems in my hands.”
“what nonsense!” she cried indignantly. “isn’t love just as holy as—as anything? isn’t——” she stopped abruptly and ethan, lifting his head, found her gazing toward him with something almost like horror in her wide eyes.
“what is it?” he cried anxiously.
she shook her head and dropped her gaze to the hands folded on her knees.
“nothing,” she said very quietly. she laughed softly, uncertainly. “will you give me my book, please?” she asked.
[132]
“of course,” he answered, still puzzled. then, as he started to hand it to her, it opened at the fly-leaf and he drew it back. “laura frances devereux,” he read aloud. he smiled quizzically as he returned the volume.
“that proves nothing,” she replied defiantly. “i—i might have borrowed it.”
“true, circumstantial evidence is not absolutely conclusive, unless—unless there is a good deal of it!”
“you may think what you choose,” she answered lightly. she looked at her watch and prepared to rise. this time ethan was ready. she gave him her hand and he helped her to her feet. the hand drew itself gently but determinedly out of his and he let it go without a struggle.
ethan assists clytie
“must you go?” he asked.
she nodded. then she laughed.
[133]
“if you only knew what trouble i have getting here you’d appreciate——” she broke off, reddening a little.
“i do appreciate,” he said earnestly. “and i thank you very much for your kindness this morning to a very undeserving chap. i—do you know, miss devereux, i came within an ace of calling at the larches yesterday afternoon?”
she looked up quickly.
“yes, i went for a walk in the afternoon and found myself at the gate over there. i could see that you had a fire in the library and——”
“but how did you know it was the library?” she asked.
“why—er—wasn’t it? i supposed it was. anyhow, it looked dreadfully tempting. i pictured you sitting in front of it, and i very nearly paid a call.”
[134]
“i’m glad you didn’t,” she breathed.
“why?”
“because—why, you don’t know me!”
“i should have asked for your father and introduced myself.”
“well, you certainly don’t lack assurance!” she gasped.
“it would have been all right,” he assured her cheerfully.
“you wouldn’t have found him, though,” she said dryly.
“then i would have asked for mrs. devereux, and, failing her, miss devereux. you see, yesterday i was a bit desperate,” he added smilingly.
“desperate! i should say foolhardy!”
“why? because i wanted to see you? look here, please; why shouldn’t i call on you at the house?[135] as i’ve told you, i’m fairly respectable. and—and i want to see you—more often! i suppose it sounds dreadfully cheeky,” he went on softly, “but i want you to like me, and it doesn’t seem to me that i get a fair show.”
the color came and went in her cheeks and the violets were hidden from him.
“it certainly does sound—cheeky, as you call it,” she said after a moment, rather unsteadily. “considering that you have seen me but four times.”
“five, if you please. besides, i don’t see that that matters. in fact, i rather think the mischief was done the first time!”
he captured her hand and for a moment it only fluttered in his grasp. then it tried for liberty, but unsuccessfully.[136] a moment passed, and,
“are you making love to me, mr. parmley?” she asked, with a little amused laugh. it was like a cold douche, but he resisted his first impulse to release her.
ethan shskes hands with clytie
“yes, i am,” he answered stoutly. “that’s just what i’m doing! and i’m going to keep on doing it until i’m convinced that there’s no hope for me. please don’t struggle,” he continued, capturing her other hand also. “i’ll let you go in just a moment. maybe i’m behaving a good deal like a bully, but i’m head-over-heels in love with you, laura, and——”
“no, no! please!” she cried, with a little catch in her voice.
“what—what have i done?” he asked anxiously.
“i—you mustn’t call me that!”
[137]
“very well, i won’t—yet. but i think of you as laura——”
“i don’t want you to!”
“then i’ll try not to,” he answered gently. “but—couldn’t you make me very happy by telling me that i’ve got a chance with you, dear? just the ghost of a chance?”
the bowed head shook negatively.
“you won’t? or—you can’t?”
“i—i won’t,” she whispered.
he uttered a cry and strove to draw her toward him, but she resisted with all her strength.
“please! please!” she gasped.
“i’ll—try not to,” he said ruefully. “but i may call at the house? you’ll let me do that, won’t you?”
“i—suppose so,” she murmured faintly.
“to-day?” he cried. “to-morrow?”
[138]
“no, no! wait, please; let me think.” she raised a pair of troubled eyes to his for an instant. “i must see you again first. i have something to tell you; something which may make a difference. perhaps—perhaps you won’t want to see me again—then!”
he laughed disdainfully.
“try me! and when will you tell me this—this wonderful news? to-morrow morning? here?”
she nodded and strove to release her hands. after a moment of indecision he let them go. she stood before him motionless an instant. then she raised her head slowly and he saw that her eyes were wet. with an inarticulate cry of pain and longing he started forward, but she held a hand against him.
“please!” she said again, imploringly.[139] his outstretched arms dropped to his sides. “if i shouldn’t come—to-morrow——” she began.
“but you’ve promised!”
“i know.” she nodded assent. “but—but if i shouldn’t——”
“but you will!” he cried. “i shall be here, dear! don’t fail me! if you don’t come i’ll go to the house!”
“then i must,” she said with a little smile. “and now——” she went to him and placed her hands on his shoulders and felt him tremble under her touch. she raised her eyes, violets darkened and dewy with unshed tears, to his. “will you do one thing for me?”
she went to him and placed her hands on his shoulders.
his eyes answered.
“then, please,—” she dropped her head in sudden shame—“kiss me once—and let me go.”
[140]
his arms closed about her hungrily, but she held back.
“promise!” she whispered “promise to let me go!”
“yes,” he groaned, “i promise.”
for an instant he was looking far, far down into dim, wonderful violet depths....
ethan in a rowboat
then he was alone. he turned unseeingly toward the canoe and trod upon the book which lay forgotten on the grass. stooping, he rescued it and dropped it into his pocket.
“i’m getting to be an awful thief!” he murmured tremulously.
