“Edith insisted that I should stay all night. She’s a perfect darling, so absolutely and utterly1 exquisite2, and yet so human. She and her uncle simply can’t look at things from the same angle. And they are both to blame. Anything sets them off,—you should have seen them—like people in a play.
“I slept in the spare room—and well, I lay awake half the night looking at it, and admiring myself in one of Edith’s nighties! I never saw such underthings, Judy! For a princess! Her room is all rose and silver and ivory, and the room I slept in is in pale yellow—with a canopy3 to my bed of gold brocade.
“Edith and I had breakfast together. Everything brought up on a tray and set in her little sitting-room4, and we wore lace caps and breakfast coats, and looked—superlative! Edith is the most beautiful person—like one of the Viking women—with her hair in thick fair braids. I told her that, and she laughed. ‘What a pair of poets you are,’ she said, ‘you and your brother.’
“It was good to hear her laugh. She cried dreadfully the night before. Coming back was[171] hard for her—and then Mr. Towne got on her nerves. They both wanted me to stay, and Baldy stayed, too, and I know his head bumped the clouds. And this morning on his way to the office, he bought a bunch of heliotrope5 for Edith and sent it up to her.
“The trouble with Edith is that her life hasn’t been real, Judy. Not in the way that your life and mine and Baldy’s is real. She has never had any work to do, and nothing has ever depended upon her. Think of it. There’s no reason why she can’t stay in bed all day if she wants to. And she can gratify any mood of the moment. The consequence is that half the time she is bored stiff. She says that was the reason she became engaged to Delafield Simms. Anything for a change.
“It looks as if she and I were going to be frightfully friendly. She told me that she wants me for a friend. That Eloise Harper and her kind are horrible to her after the things that have happened.
“To-morrow afternoon she and her uncle are coming out here to tea, and I’m going to have the Follettes over. Mrs. Follette will love it. But Evans won’t. He doesn’t like Mr. Towne.
“And now, my dearest-dear, I am worried about that hint in your last letter that you are not well. Take care of yourself, and remember I have only one precious sister, and the kiddies have only one mother. We need you in our young lives, and you mustn’t work too hard.”
When she had written the last line, Jane sat very still at her desk. She was thinking of Evans. She hadn’t seen him for three days. Not since the Sunday night she had gone to the Townes. That[172] night in the fog had impressed her strangely. She had felt for Evans something that had nothing to do with admiration6 for him nor respect nor charm. His weakness had drawn7 her to him, as a mother might be drawn to a child. His struggle was, she felt, something which she must share. Not as his wife! No.... That kind of love was different. If only he would let her be his little sister, Jane.
He had not even called her up. When she had invited him and his mother to tea with the Townes, Mrs. Follette had answered, and had accepted for both of them. Evans, she said, was in Washington, and would be out on the late train.
When he arrived ahead of the others on the afternoon of her tea, Jane said, “Where have you been? Do you know it has been four days since we’ve seen each other?”
“Weren’t you glad to get rid of me? I’ve thought of you every minute.” He dropped into a seat beside her.
She was gazing at him with lively curiosity. “How nice you look.”
“New suit. Like it?”
“Yes. And you act as if somebody had left you a million dollars.”
“Wish he had. I bought this outfit8 with a first edition ‘Alice in Wonderland,’” he laughed and explained. “I’ve been getting rid of some of our rare books. I feel plutocratic9 in consequence.[173] Five hundred dollars, if you please, for that old Hogarth, with the scathing10 Ruskin inscription11. And I’m going to open an office, Jane.”
“In Washington?”
“On Connecticut Avenue. Same building, same room, where I started.”
“Evans, how splendid!”
“Yes. You did it, Jane.”
“I? How?”
“The night of the fog. I never realized before what a walking-stick I’ve been—leaning on you. Henceforth you’re the Lady of the Lantern. It won’t be so fatiguing12.”
He was smiling at her, and she smiled back. Yet quite strangely and inconsistently, she felt as if in changing his attitude towards her, he had robbed her of some privilege. “I didn’t mind being a walking-stick.”
“Well, I minded. After this I’ll walk alone. And I’m going to work hard, and play around a bit. Will you have tea with me to-morrow, Jane? At the Willard? To celebrate my first tottering13 steps.”
She agreed, eagerly. “It will be like old times.”
“Minus a lot, old lady.”
“Take the three-thirty train and I’ll meet you. I’ll pay for the taxi with what’s left of ‘Alice.’”
“Don’t be too extravagant15.”
[174]“Nothing is too good for you, Jane. I can’t say it as I want to say it, but you’ll never know what you seemed to me on Sunday as you came through the mist.”
His voice shook a little, but he recovered himself in a moment. “Here come the Townes.” He rose as Edith entered with young Baldwin.
After that Evans followed Baldy’s lead as a dispenser of hospitality. The two of them passed cups, passed thin bread and butter, passed little cakes, passed lemon and cream and sugar, flung conversational16 balls as light as feathers into the air, were, as Baldy would have expressed it, “the life of the party.”
“Something must have gone to Casabianca’s head,” Frederick Towne remarked to Jane. “Have you ever seen him like this?”
“Years ago. He was tremendously attractive.”
“If you had known me all your life would you call me wonderful?”
She looked at him from behind her battlements of silver. “How do I know? People have to prove themselves.”
Dr. Hallam had driven Mrs. Follette over. He rarely did social stunts19, but he liked Jane. And[175] he had been interested enough in Evans to want to glimpse him in his new r?le.
Strolling up to the tea-table, he was aware at once of a situation which might make for comedy, or indeed for tragedy. It was evident that Towne was much attracted to little Jane Barnes. If Jane reciprocated20, what of young Follette?
Hallam knew Towne, and himself a bachelor of quite another type, without vanity where women were concerned, he had a feeling of contempt for a man whose reputation was linked with a long line of much-talked about ladies. And now little Jane was the reigning21 queen. He didn’t like the idea of her youth, and Towne’s late forties.
“Yes, of course.” Towne wished that Hallam wouldn’t talk about Adelaide. He wished that all of the others would go away and leave him alone with Jane.
“Mrs. Laramore,” said Jane unexpectedly, “makes me think of the lady of Shallott. I don’t know why. But I do. I have really never seen such a beautiful woman. But she doesn’t seem real. I have a feeling that if anything hit her, she’d break like china.”
They laughed at her, and Edith said, “Adelaide will never break. She’ll melt. She’s as soft as wax.” Then pigeonholing23 Mrs. Laramore for[176] more vital matters. “Uncle Fred, I am going out to Baldy’s studio; he’s painting Jane.”
Frederick was at once interested. “Her portrait?”
“May I see it?”
So everybody, including Dr. Hallam and Mrs. Follette, made their way to the garage.
Edith and young Baldwin arrived first. “And this is where you work,” she said, softly.
“Yes. Look here, will you sit here so that I can feast my eyes on you? I’ve dreamed of you in that chair—in classic costume. Do you know that you were made for a goddess?”
“I know that you are a romantic boy.”
Yet as she sat in the garden seat which he had transformed into a throne for her by throwing a rug over it and setting it up above the others on a small platform, she sighed a little.
Here in this small room he spent his spare moments. He looked out through that small square window on the rains and snow, and the young green of the spring—and he tried to paint his dreams, yet was held back because he was chained to the galley27 of a Government job. And if he was not chained, what might he not do? If someone waved a wand and set him free? And if the someone who[177] waved a wand loved him? Inspired him? Might he not give to the world some day a masterpiece? Well, why not? She found herself thrilling with the thought. To be a torch and light the way!
“How old are you?” she asked him.
“Twenty-five.”
“I don’t believe it. I’m twenty-two, and I feel a thousand years older than you.”
“You will always be—ageless.”
She laughed. “How old is Jane?”
“Twenty. Yet people take us for twins.”
“She doesn’t look it and neither do you.”
The others came in and Edith went back to her thoughts. He wasn’t too young. She was glad of that....
The sketch of Jane was on an easel. There she stood, a slender figure in her lilac frock—bobbed black hair, lighted-up eyes—the lifted basket with its burden of gold and purple and green!
Towne stood back and looked at it. Jane at his side said, “That’s some of the fruit you sent.”
“Really?” Frederick had no eyes for anything but Jane, in her lilac frock. Jove, but the boy had caught the spirit of her!
He turned to Baldy. “It is most unusual. And I want it.”
“Sorry,” said Baldy, crisply. “I am sending it off to-morrow.”
“How much is the prize?”
[178]“Two thousand dollars.”
“I will write a check for that amount if you will let me have this.”
“I am afraid I can’t, Mr. Towne.”
“Why not?”
“Well, I feel this way about it. It isn’t worth two thousand dollars. But if I win the prize it may be worth that to the magazine—the advertising28 and all that.”
“Isn’t that splitting hairs?”
“Perhaps, but it’s the way I feel.”
“But if you don’t win the prize you won’t have anything.”
“No.”
And above him, breathing an upper air, was this young eagle. “I’ll be glad to give the sketch to you if it comes back,” said Baldy, coolly, “but I rather think it will stick.”
It was, in a way, a dreadful moment for Towne. There was young Baldwin sitting on the edge of the table, swinging a leg, debonair30, defiant. And Edith laughing in her sleeve. Frederick knew that she was laughing. He was as red as a turkey cock.
It was Jane who saved him from apoplexy. She was really inordinately31 proud of Baldy, but she knew the dangers of his mood. And she had her duties as hostess.
“Baldy wants to see himself on the news stands,”[179] she said, soothingly32; “don’t deprive him of that pleasure, Mr. Towne.”
“Nothing of the kind, Jane,” exclaimed her brother.
“Baldy, I won’t quarrel with you before people. We must reserve that pleasure until we are alone.”
“I’m not quarrelling.”
Jane held up a protesting hand. “Oh, let’s run away from him, Mr. Towne. When he begins like that, there’s no end to it.”
She carried Frederick back to the house, and Evans, looking after them, said vindictively33 to Hallam, “Old Midas got his that time.”
Dr. Hallam chuckled34. “You don’t hate him, do you? Evans, don’t let him have Jane. He isn’t worth it.”
“Neither am I,” said Evans. “But I would know better how to make her happy.”
Back once more in the bright little living-room, Towne said to Jane, “May I have another cup of tea?”
“It’s cold.”
“I don’t care. I like to see you pour it with your lovely hands.”
She spread her hands out on the shining mahogany of the tea-table. “Are they lovely? Nobody ever told me.”
His hand went over hers. “The loveliest in the world.”
She sat there in a moment’s breathless silence.[180] Then she drew her hands away. Touched a little bell. “I’ll have Sophy bring us some hot water.”
Sophy came and went. Jane poured hot tea with flushed cheeks.
He took the cup when she handed it to him. “Dear child, you’re not offended?”
He put his cup down and leaned towards her. “You are more than a child to me—a beloved woman. Jane, you needn’t be afraid of me.... I want you for my wife!”
Her astonished eyes met his. “But we haven’t known each other a week.”
“I couldn’t love you more if I had known you a thousand years.”
“Mr. Towne—please.” He was very close to her.
“Kiss me, Jane.”
She held her slender figure away from him. “You must not.”
“I must.”
“No, really.... Please,” she was breathing quickly. “Please.” She was on her feet, the tea-table between them.
He saw his mistake. “Forgive me.”
Edith’s friends! The child’s innocence37! Adelaide’s kisses went for a song. Eloise frankly38 offered[181] hers. Edith was saved by only some inner grace.
“Jane, they are not worth your little finger. I put you above all. On a pedestal. Honestly. And I want you to marry me.”
“But I don’t love you.”
“I’ll make you. I have everything to give you.”
Had he? What of Robin39 Hood40 and Galahad? What of youth and youth’s audacity41, high resolves, flaming dreams?
She felt something of this subconsciously42. But she would not have been a feminine creature had she not felt the flattery of his pursuit.
“Jane, I’ll make life a fairy tale. We’ll travel everywhere. Sail strange seas. Wouldn’t you love it—all those countries you have never seen—and just the two of us? And all the places you have read about? And when we come home I’ll build you a house—wherever you say—with a great garden.”
He was eloquent43, and the things he promised were woven into the woof of all her girlish imaginings.
“I ought not to listen,” she said, tremulously.
But he knew that she had listened. He was wise enough to leave it—there.
He rose as he heard the others coming back. “Will you ride with me to-morrow afternoon? Don’t be afraid of me. I’ll promise to be good.”
“Sorry. I’m to have tea in town with Evans.”
[182]“Can’t you break the engagement?”
“I don’t break engagements.” The cock of her head was like Baldy’s.
“Oh, you don’t. Some day you’ll be breaking them for me.” But he liked her independence. It promised much that would be stimulating44. And he would always be the Conqueror45. He liked to think that he would be—the Conqueror.
So he went away secure in the thought of Jane’s final surrender. There was everything in it for her, and the child must see it. Her hesitation46 was natural. She couldn’t, of course, come at the first crook47 of his finger. But she would come.
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1
utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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exquisite
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| adj.精美的；敏锐的；剧烈的，感觉强烈的 | |
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canopy
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| n.天篷，遮篷 | |
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sitting-room
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| n.（BrE）客厅，起居室 | |
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heliotrope
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| n.天芥菜；淡紫色 | |
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admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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outfit
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| n.（为特殊用途的）全套装备，全套服装 | |
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plutocratic
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| adj.富豪的，有钱的 | |
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scathing
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| adj.（言词、文章）严厉的，尖刻的；不留情的adv.严厉地，尖刻地v.伤害，损害（尤指使之枯萎）( scathe的现在分词) | |
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inscription
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| n.（尤指石块上的）刻印文字，铭文，碑文 | |
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fatiguing
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| a.使人劳累的 | |
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tottering
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| adj.蹒跚的，动摇的v.走得或动得不稳( totter的现在分词 )；踉跄；蹒跚；摇摇欲坠 | |
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plaintive
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| adj.可怜的，伤心的 | |
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extravagant
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| adj.奢侈的；过分的；(言行等)放肆的 | |
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conversational
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| adj.对话的，会话的 | |
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annoyance
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| n.恼怒，生气，烦恼 | |
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defiant
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| adj.无礼的，挑战的 | |
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stunts
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| n.惊人的表演( stunt的名词复数 )；（广告中）引人注目的花招；愚蠢行为；危险举动v.阻碍…发育[生长]，抑制，妨碍( stunt的第三人称单数 ) | |
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reciprocated
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| v.报答，酬答( reciprocate的过去式和过去分词 )；（机器的部件）直线往复运动 | |
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reigning
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abruptly
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pigeonholing
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| v.把…搁在分类架上( pigeonhole的现在分词 )；把…留在记忆中；缓办；把…隔成小格 | |
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sketch
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| n.草图；梗概；素描；v.素描；概述 | |
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yearning
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| a.渴望的；向往的；怀念的 | |
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solitude
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| n. 孤独; 独居,荒僻之地,幽静的地方 | |
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galley
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| n.（飞机或船上的）厨房单层甲板大帆船；军舰舰长用的大划艇； | |
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advertising
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| n.广告业；广告活动 a.广告的；广告业务的 | |
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29
snarling
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| v.（指狗）吠，嗥叫， （人）咆哮( snarl的现在分词 )；咆哮着说，厉声地说 | |
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debonair
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| adj.殷勤的，快乐的 | |
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inordinately
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| adv.无度地，非常地 | |
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soothingly
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| adv.抚慰地，安慰地；镇痛地 | |
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vindictively
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| adv.恶毒地；报复地 | |
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34
chuckled
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| 轻声地笑( chuckle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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lashes
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| n.鞭挞( lash的名词复数 )；鞭子；突然猛烈的一击；急速挥动v.鞭打( lash的第三人称单数 )；煽动；紧系；怒斥 | |
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candid
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| adj.公正的，正直的；坦率的 | |
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innocence
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| n.无罪；天真；无害 | |
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frankly
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| adv.坦白地，直率地；坦率地说 | |
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robin
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| n.知更鸟，红襟鸟 | |
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hood
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| n.头巾，兜帽，覆盖；v.罩上，以头巾覆盖 | |
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audacity
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| n.大胆，卤莽，无礼 | |
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subconsciously
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| ad.下意识地，潜意识地 | |
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eloquent
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| adj.雄辩的，口才流利的；明白显示出的 | |
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stimulating
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| adj.有启发性的，能激发人思考的 | |
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conqueror
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| n.征服者，胜利者 | |
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hesitation
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| n.犹豫，踌躇 | |
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crook
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| v.使弯曲；n.小偷，骗子，贼；弯曲(处) | |
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