This morning she ran up the stairs two steps at a time, her hands filled with letters and flowers. Darting2 over to the bed, she piled them all on top of Marjorie, while she stooped over to kiss her hair.
“Just look how much everybody loves you, Cap!” she exclaimed. “I think there must be a dozen letters—and two new boxes of flowers!”
Marjorie’s eyes shone with happiness; it was worth while to be ill, to find out how much every one cared.
“You open the flowers, Queenie,” she said, “and I’ll begin on the letters. Let’s go slowly—I like to make them last as long as I can.”
“Maybe you’ll have some real visitors today,”227 observed the younger girl. “The doctor said you might have two, you know.”
“I wonder,” mused3 Marjorie. She was thinking of John, and trying to understand why he had sent no message.
“Which two would you choose, if you could have anybody you wanted, Cap?” ventured Queenie.
“Lil, of course, first of all!” she answered emphatically.
“Lilies of the valley from her!” cried Queenie, delighted at the coincidence of the donor’s name with the flowers she had just opened. “Why, she sends you flowers every other day, doesn’t she?”
“I guess she has—even when I was too ill to realize it. Her roses are still fresh.”
Marjorie turned to her mail, and read three lively letters from college friends. Then she could restrain her curiosity no longer concerning the other box of flowers.
“It’s a man’s card,” observed Queenie, as she handed Marjorie the tiny envelope accompanying a huge bunch of snapdragon. “I can tell by the shape.”
Marjorie’s fingers trembled as she pulled open the flap; but upon reading the name a sharp look of disappointment spread over her countenance4.
“Walter Richards,” she repeated mechanically. “How very nice.”
Queenie raised her eyes quickly, recalling her own jealousy5 on a former occasion when she had thought the scout6 master infatuated with her pretty captain. But there could be no doubt now that if the young man did entertain any such hopes, they would not be encouraged. Marjorie could not conceal7 her disappointment.
“Now read the rest of your letters,” Queenie advised her tenderly.
“They’re all from college girls,” she said, “except one—from Ethel Todd, one of our old scouts8. I recognize their handwriting.”
Queenie busied herself with the flowers, changing the water in the old ones, filling other vases for the new bouquets9 that had just arrived. When she had finished, Marjorie tossed her letters aside and settled back in her pillows.
“Queenie, here’s one for you—I found it under the quilt,” she remarked. “Looks like a man’s handwriting!”
“It’s from Mr. Richards,” she said calmly. “He often sends me lists of books—and things like that.”
“Oh, I see!” nodded the other girl, restraining a smile.
Queenie opened the letter deliberately12, but as she started to read it, a look of happiness crept over her face.
“He wants me to meet him in town tomorrow,” she announced, as she read on, “and take lunch229 with him—and—and——Miss Wilkinson, may I go?”
“You certainly may! And what’s more, you can pick out the best looking suit and hat I own to wear! Why, it’ll be almost like going out myself to have my clothes get an airing.”
“I don’t deserve that you should be so good to me, Cap! I don’t—really!”
“You certainly do! Nobody needs a holiday more than you. Just look how you sat up with me those nights after the night nurse was called away! I want you to go and have the best time ever!”
For the next half hour both girls thoroughly14 enjoyed themselves while Queenie tried on all of Marjorie’s street costumes. At last they both agreed upon a trim little dark blue serge, made with straight lines and a cunning taffeta toque to match.
“I’m going to pull the hat way down over my eyes,” she remarked, “and see if I can fool any of your friends, if I meet them. It would be such fun to have somebody rush up and kiss me, and call me ‘Marjorie.’”
“You flatter me, Queenie. You know I’m a lot older than you.”
“But you don’t look it!” flashed the other immediately.
She was not to leave for the city until the eleven230 o’clock train the following morning, so the girls had plenty of time for their hour together after breakfast. Queenie had a share in the excitement this time, for the florist’s messenger brought her a box of flowers in addition to Marjorie’s gifts.
“Violets!” she exclaimed, “from Mr. Richards. He wants me to wear them today.”
Marjorie looked on a trifle enviously15; she was missing her violets more each day. For somehow, with her, violets were always associated with John Hadley.
Queenie was off at last, looking sweeter than Marjorie had ever seen her look. Perhaps the girl herself was aware of it, or perhaps it was merely the beauty of the April day and the flowers in her belt; but whatever it was she smiled quietly to herself all the way into the city. She found Mr. Richards on the platform, watching for her amid the stream of people that poured out of the suburban16 train.
“My, it’s good to see you!” he cried recognizing her from a distance by the violets, rather than by her general appearance. “You didn’t breathe a word of it to Miss Wilkinson?”
“Not a word—though I almost made a slip the very first thing. I was reading your letter in her room, and told her you wanted to meet me in town—and I almost told her why!”
“You’re sure you didn’t?” he inquired, searchingly.231 Like most men he did not believe that girls could keep secrets.
“No—honor bright! Besides, it may all come to nothing. And I wouldn’t want to disappoint Miss Wilkinson.”
“I think it’s going to pan out all right,” the young man replied with assurance. “Your consent was all that was needed and since you think you’ll like it——”
“Sh!” warned Queenie. “Don’t even let’s talk about it in public, till it’s a sure thing. We might see somebody we know.”
They were making their way along a crowded street now, so crowded that Richards felt obliged to take Queenie’s arm, to keep from being separated. Neither had been paying much attention to the passers-by, but hardly were the words out of the girl’s mouth, than they came face to face with John Hadley!
“Marjor—I beg your pardon,” he stammered17, realizing his mistake, “I am very sorry, but I thought——”
“Mr. Hadley!” she exclaimed, seizing his hand, and dragging him aside from the crowd. “It’s Miss Wilkinson’s clothes, that’s why you thought it was her. But now I’ve got you, I want to ask you why you’ve been such a quitter? You, of all people!”
John tried to be angry, but he felt his resentment19 melting at the girl’s earnestness.
“What do you mean?” he asked.
“What do I mean? Miss Wilkinson at death’s door, so hundreds of her friends were telephonin’ and sendin’ flowers day and night, and not even the price of a two-cent stamp would you spend to find out how she was! Even if you had been mad at her, common decency20 ought to have made you ask after her, when she’s been that sick!”
In spite of the force of her words, Queenie kept her voice lowered, so soft, indeed, that Mr. Richards did not catch the portent21 of the conversation. Instead of being angry now, John was intensely alarmed. Had Marjorie really been ill, then, and he had not taken the trouble to find out! His face turned deathly pale at the thought of what might have happened.
It was his turn to clutch Queenie’s arm.
“Is she all right now? Tell me quick, Queenie!”
“She’s sitting up in bed,” replied the girl stiffly. “But far from well.”
“Do you suppose I could see her?”
“Yes, if your ‘business’ lets you,” she replied sarcastically22. “I understand it took you out of town the very day she was the worst!”
“I didn’t know it. I swear I didn’t!”
“But you called at the house the night before—and the hired girl told you.”
“I didn’t believe her,” John admitted sheepishly. “I was sure I saw her go out with—Richards.”
The corners of Queenie’s mouth drooped23 in a smirk24, as she suddenly understood the cause of John’s absence. He must have mistaken her for Marjorie, the night that she wore her gray dress and cloak! In a word she explained the situation.
“But you’re a big boob, just the same, Mr. Hadley, and you ought to be ashamed of yourself for havin’ so little faith. Now run along, and make up for lost time. We got a date ourselves.”
They hurried off to their mysterious engagement, which resulted entirely25 to their satisfaction, and proceeded leisurely26 to a hotel for luncheon27. They lingered over it as long as they could, Richards expressing his regret that he could not devote the rest of the afternoon to Queenie’s amusement.
“You’ve done enough for me today, Mr. Richards,” she replied appreciatively. “It’s been the happiest day of my life.”
“You deserve it,” he returned, “you spent a good part of it in making three other people happy.”
“Three?” she repeated in perplexity.
“John Hadley, Marjorie Wilkinson—and——” he helped her into the train—“and me!”
The next moment he had disappeared.
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1
convalescence
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| n.病后康复期 | |
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2
darting
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| v.投掷，投射( dart的现在分词 )；向前冲，飞奔 | |
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3
mused
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| v.沉思，冥想( muse的过去式和过去分词 )；沉思自语说（某事） | |
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4
countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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5
jealousy
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| n.妒忌，嫉妒，猜忌 | |
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6
scout
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| n.童子军，侦察员；v.侦察，搜索 | |
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7
conceal
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| v.隐藏，隐瞒，隐蔽 | |
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8
scouts
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| 侦察员[机，舰]( scout的名词复数 )； 童子军； 搜索； 童子军成员 | |
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9
bouquets
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| n.花束( bouquet的名词复数 )；（酒的）芳香 | |
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10
feigned
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| a.假装的，不真诚的 | |
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11
indifference
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| n.不感兴趣，不关心，冷淡，不在乎 | |
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12
deliberately
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| adv.审慎地；蓄意地；故意地 | |
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13
gratitude
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| adj.感激，感谢 | |
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14
thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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15
enviously
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| adv.满怀嫉妒地 | |
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16
suburban
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| adj.城郊的，在郊区的 | |
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17
stammered
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| v.结巴地说出( stammer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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18
publicity
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| n.众所周知，闻名；宣传，广告 | |
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19
resentment
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| n.怨愤，忿恨 | |
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20
decency
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| n.体面，得体，合宜，正派，庄重 | |
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21
portent
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| n.预兆；恶兆；怪事 | |
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22
sarcastically
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| adv.挖苦地，讽刺地 | |
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23
drooped
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| 弯曲或下垂，发蔫( droop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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24
smirk
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| n.得意地笑；v.傻笑；假笑着说 | |
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25
entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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26
leisurely
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| adj.悠闲的；从容的，慢慢的 | |
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27
luncheon
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| n.午宴，午餐，便宴 | |
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