Читать книгу The Gordon Elopement - Carolyn Wells - Страница 3

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“Bob,” said Grace Gordon, as she read the telegram, “I’m going to elope.”

“All right, go ahead,” said her husband, as he unfolded his evening paper.

Mrs. Gordon read the telegram again and then talked at, if not to, Robert, who stolidly considered the latest market reports.

“I’ve had company and had company and had company, till I feel as if another scrap of it would drive me crazy; and it’s no use talking, I’m going to elope.”

The methodical Robert turned to the editorial page of the Post, folded the paper accurately up the centre, and carefully creased the sheet with his thumb.

“With whom?” he inquired.

“With you, goose, of course. Who did you suppose?”

“Oh!”

As no further response was forthcoming, there certainly was very little use, if any, in talking just then, but still Grace kept on.

“I suppose the palms will all die and the moths will eat up everything else, but I can’t help it; human nature can’t stand everything, and this is too much. There is a tide in the affairs of men when you get to the end of your rope—and I’m there!”

With a look of utter exasperation Mrs. Gordon read aloud the ten words on the yellow paper she held in her hand:

“Self and bride will arrive Thursday evening. Stay a fortnight.

“JACK CARPENTER.”

“It does seem,” she went on, “as if Jack Carpenter ought to have better sense. I think if I’d married a wife I’d look after her during my honeymoon, and not inflict myself on a third cousin—and Emily and her boys only just fairly out of the house—and Aunt Maria was here nearly all winter, down with nervous prostration, and a trained nurse. There’s no company in the world so bad as a trained nurse, except brides and grooms. Oh, I think it’s mean, the way people pile into this house! I haven’t had a meal alone with you for more than six months, and there are lots and lots of people I ought to ask to visit me, but I don’t get time because of my uninvited guests. I don’t see why people want to visit so much unless it’s because they know they’ll have company if they stay at home. There’s only one thing to do, and I’m going to do it! Robert! Will you listen?”

“Yes, yes, my dear; what is it?”

“Read that!” she cried dramatically, as she thrust the telegram into his hand. “More company is coming.”

“There’s no occasion to read it, my dear; if it’s a telegram and says that, it probably says very little more.”

“It doesn’t say anything more, but that’s enough. Robert, we can’t stand more company. I’m exasperated beyond endurance, and I’m going to run away.”

“Indeed! And when do we start?”

“Why, we start now!”

“How absurd! What do you mean?”

“Why, I mean just what I say. We’re going to elope, and we start right now.”

“All right. I haven’t eloped often, but I’m willing to do the best I can. Where would you like to go first? Is the rope ladder ready? Is the palfrey prepared? And where’s the irate parent coming in? I thought we saw him off on the Deutschland last week.”

“No, really, Bobby, I’m serious. I’ve got to get away. I really can’t stand Jack Carpenter and his wife, and I won’t!”

“Oh, well,” said Robert, laying down his paper, “if you’re really serious, we’ll elope, and we’ll go now. I’ve left things at the office so that Russell can look after them, and I can write him from—but where are we going?”

“I don’t care where we go so long as we take the first train to it.”

“Then that’s settled. Now let’s pack—I suppose you’re going to pack?”

“Why, yes, I suppose so; I hadn’t thought of that.”

“There’s very little time,” said Robert, taking a local time-table from his pocket. “Do you suppose you could get ready in time to catch the 11:02?”

“Yes; or I could get the 10:58.”

“But that goes north.”

“Oh, I don’t care which way it goes. I want the one that goes first.”

“In that case hurry up!”

“Bob! Do you really mean it?”

“Yes, of course, bless your heart; if you want to go, we’ll go.”

“Anywhere, Bob?”

“Anywhere!”

“Any time?”

“Now!”

“Bob, you’re a dear!”

Then Mrs. Gordon ran away. Robert, left to himself, began to think things over. What had he done? What had he promised to do? What was the outcome to be?

But all that didn’t make any difference. Grace wanted to do things and he was ready to do them. He went upstairs with the air of a joyful Galahad, but it was with the spirit of Bob Acres that he began uncertainly to pack the few things he thought he might need.

Meanwhile, Grace went about the packing of white petticoats, shirtwaists, slippers, hats, and finally two tack hammers.

“Because,” as she called out to Robert, “you never can find a tack hammer when you want it.”

“Of course,” he called back; “we may have to tack down some parlour carpets or something.”

“Yes, of course, we may—goodness! It’s a quarter of eleven now. ‘Most ready, Bob?”

“All ready, Grace!”

“Come on, then!”

Like two culprits they groped together down the dark front stairs, and pausing in the hall Grace whispered excitedly: “What about the trunk?”

“Bless my soul, Grace; have you got a trunk?”

“Of course! What did you think my things were in?”

“Well, that means a hackman, that’s all, and we must telephone for one.”

“Oh, Bob, we can’t! Nora will hear us.”

“Nonsense; she’s asleep long ago.”

“Oh, of course she is. Well, go ahead.” Robert went to the telephone and, for safety’s sake, holding his hand over the bell, called a cab.

“Robert,” said Grace, clutching him in the dark, “isn’t it fun!”

Then the cabman came and Robert softly opened the front door.

“Be quiet,” he said cautiously; “there’s a sick lady in the room above. Just bring that trunk down as carefully as you can and get it over to the station, quick.”

“Do you want it checked, sir?”

“Never mind that. Get it over there and we’ll be there.”

“Yes, sir.”

Robert Gordon locked his own street door feeling that he had burned his bridges behind him and that he neither knew nor cared what was to happen next.

As they turned toward the station Grace said, “But, Robert, where are we going?”

“To the first train.”

“The 10:58?”

“That’s the first, isn’t it?”

They reached the station just in time to get comfortably aboard the train, which rolled northward through the night. The Gordon elopement had begun.