Читать книгу The Rejuvenation of Aunt Mary - Warner Anne - Страница 4

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The next day was a very memorable day for Jack. The day after a falling in love is always a red-letter day; but the day after the falling in love—ah!

One looks back—far back—to the day before, and those hours of the day before, when her sun had not yet dawned, and struggles to recollect what ends life could have represented then. And one looks forward to the next day, the next week, the next year—but, particularly to the next morning with sensations as indescribable as they are delightful.

Whichever way you tip it, the kaleidoscope of the future arranges itself in equally attractive shapes of rainbow hue, and the prospect over land or sea—even if it is raining—looks brilliant green, and brighter red, and brightest yellow.

Upon that glorious "next day" of Jack's the weather was quite a thing apart for February—partaking of the warmth of May, and owing that fact to a sun which early June need not have [pg 046]scorned to own. Under the circumstances the house party overflowed the house and ravaged the surrounding country, and Jack and Mrs. Rosscott began it all by having the highest cart and the fastest cob in the stables and making for the forest just as the clock was tolling ten.

"Do you want a groom?" asked Burnett, who was occasionally very cruel.

"Well, I'm not going to wait for him to get ready now," replied his sister, who had sharp wits and did not disdain to give even her own family the benefit of them.

Then she gathered up the reins and whip in a most scientific manner, and they were off. Jack folded his arms. He was simply flooded, drenched, and saturated with joy. The evening before had been Elysium when she had only been his now and again for a minute's conversation, but now she was to be his and his alone until—until they came back—and his mind seemed able to grasp no dearer outlines of the form which Bliss Incarnate may be supposed to take. He didn't care where they went or what they saw or what they talked of, just if only he and she might be going, seeing, and talking for the benefit of one another and of one another alone.

They bowled away upon a firm, hard road that skirted the park, and then plunged deeply into the [pg 047]forest. Mrs. Rosscott handled the reins and the whip with the hands of an expert.

"I like to drive," said she.

"You appear to," he answered.

"I like to do everything," she said. "I'm very athletic and energetic."

"I'm glad of that," he told her warmly. "I like athletic girls."

He really thought that he was speaking the truth, although upon that first day if she had declared herself lazy and languid he would have found her equally to his taste—because it was the first day.

"That's kind of you, after my speech," she said smiling, "but let's wait a bit before we begin to talk about me. Let us talk about you first—you're the company, you know."

"But there's nothing to tell about me," said Jack, "except that I'm always in difficulties—financial—or otherwise—oftenest 'otherwise,' I must confess."

"But you have a rich aunt, haven't you?" said Mrs. Rosscott. "I thought that I had heard about your aunt."

"Oh, yes, I have a rich aunt," Jack said, laughing, "and I can assure you that if I am not much credit to my aunt, my aunt is the greatest possible credit to me." [pg 048]

"Yes, I've heard that, too," said Mrs. Rosscott, joining in the laugh, "you see I'm well posted."

"If you're so well posted as to me," Jack said, "do be kind and post me a little as to yourself. You don't need information and I do."

She turned and looked at him.

"What shall I tell you first?" she inquired.

"Tell me what you like and what you don't like—and that will give me courage to do the same later," he added boldly.

She laughed outright at that and then sobered quickly.

"I told you that I liked to drive and to do everything," she said lightly; "what else do you want to know about?"

"What you dislike."

"But I don't know of anything that I dislike;" she said thoughtfully—"perhaps I don't like England; I am not sure, though. I had a pretty good time there after all—only you know, being in mourning was so stupid. And then, too, I didn't fit into their ideas. I really didn't seem to get the true inwardness of what was expected of me. Oh, I never dared let them know at home what a failure I was as an Englishwoman. I mortified my husband's sisters all the time. Just think—after a whole year I often forgot to say 'Fancy now!' and used to say 'Good gracious!' instead." [pg 049]

Jack laughed.

"My husband's sisters were very unhappy about it. They did want to love me, because I had so much money; but it was tough work for them. Did you ever know any middle-aged English young ladies?" she asked him suddenly.

"No, I never did," he said.

"Really, they seem to be a thing apart that can't grow anywhere but in England. Every married man has not less than two, nor more than three, and they always are a little gray and embroider very nicely. Someone told me that as long as there's any hope they wear stout boots and walk about and hunt, but as soon as it's hopeless they take to embroidering."

"It must be rather a blue day for them when they decide definitely to make the change," said Jack.

"I never thought of that," said Mrs. Rosscott soberly. "Of course it must! I was always very good to them. I gave them ever so many things that I could have used longer myself, and they used to set pieces of muslin in behind the open-work places and wear them."

She sighed.

"It's quite as bad as being a Girton girl," she said. "Do you know what a Girton girl is?"

"No, I don't." [pg 050]

"It's a girl from Girton College. It's the most awful freak you ever saw. They're really quite beyond everything. They're so homely, and their hands and feet are so enormous, and their pins never pin, and their belts never belt. And no one has ever married one of them yet!"

She paused dramatically.

"I won't either, then," he declared.

She laughed at that, and touched up the cob a trifle.

"Did you live long in England?" he asked.

"Forever!" she answered with emphasis; "at least it seemed like forever. Mamma left me there when I was nineteen (she married me off before she left me, of course) and I stayed there until last winter—until I was out of my mourning, you know—and then I was on the Continent for a while, and then I returned to papa."

"How do we strike you after your long absence?"

"Oh, you suit me admirably," she said, turning and smiling squarely into his face; "only the terrible 'and' of the majority does get on my nerves somewhat."

"What 'and'?"

"Haven't you noticed? Why when an American runs out of talking material he just rests on one poor little 'and' until a fresh run of thought overwhelms [pg 051]him; you listen to the next person you're talking with, and you'll hear what I mean."

Jack reflected.

"I will," he said at last.

The road went sweeping in and out among a thicket of bare tree trunks and brown copses, and the sunlight fell out of the blue sky above straight down upon their heads.

"If it don't annoy you, my referring to England so often," said she presently, "I will state that this reminds me of Kaysmere, the country place of my father-in-law."

"Is your father-in-law living yet?"

"Dear me, yes—and still has hold of the title that I supposed I was getting when I was married to his eldest son. My father-in-law is a particularly healthy old gentleman of eighty. He was forty years old when he married. He didn't expect to marry, you know—he couldn't see his way to ever affording it. But he jumped into the title suddenly and then, of course, he married right away. He had to. You'd know what a hurry he must have been in to look at my mamma-in-law's portrait."

"Was she so very beautiful?"

"No; she was so very homely. Maude's very like her."

Jack laughed. [pg 052]

She laughed, too.

"Aren't we happy together?" she asked.

"My sky knows but one cloud," he rejoined, "and that is that Monday comes after Sunday."

"But we shall meet again," said Mrs. Rosscott. "Because," she added mischievously, "I don't suppose that it's on account of my cousin Maude that you rebel at the approach of Monday."

"No," said Jack. "It may not be polite to say so to you, but I wasn't in the least thinking of your cousin."

"Poor girl!" said Mrs. Rosscott thoughtfully; "and she was so sweet to you, too. Mustn't it be terrible to have a face like that?"

"It must indeed," said Jack; "I can think of but one thing worse."

"What?"

"To marry a face like that."

She laughed again.

"You're cruel," she declared; "after all her face isn't her fortune, so what does it matter?"

"It doesn't matter at all to me," said Jack. "I know of very few things that can matter less to me than Miss Lorne's face."

"Now, you're cruel again; and she was so nice to you too. Absolutely, I don't believe that the edges of her smile came together once while she was talking to you last night." [pg 053]

"Did you spy on us to that extent?" said Jack. "I wouldn't have believed it of you."

"Oh, I'm very awful," she said airily. "You'll be more surprised the farther you penetrate into the wilderness of my ways."

"And when will I have a chance to plunge into the jungle, do you think?"

"Any Saturday or Sunday that you happen to be in town."

"Are you going to live in town?"

"For a while. I've taken a house until the beginning of July. I expect some friends over, and I want to entertain them."

Jack felt the sky above become refulgent. He was in the habit of spending every Saturday night in the city—he and Burnett together.

"May I come as often as I like?" he asked.

"Certainly," said she; "because you know if you should come too often I can tell the man at the door to say I'm 'not at home' to you."

"But if he ever says: 'She's not at home to you,' I shall walk right in and fall upon the man that you are being at home to just then."

"But he is a very large man," said Mrs. Rosscott seriously; "he's larger than you are, I think."

Jack felt the blue heavens breaking up into thunderbolts for his head at this speech.

"But I'm 'way over six feet," he said, his heart [pg 054]going heavily faster, even while he told himself that he might have known it, anyhow.

"He's all of six feet two," she said meditatively. "I do believe he's even taller. I remember liking him at the first glance, just because he struck me as so royal looking."

He was miserably conscious of acute distress.

"Do—do you mind my smoking?" he stammered.

(Might have known that, of course, there was bound to be someone like that.)

"Not at all," she rejoined amiably. "I like the odor of cigarettes. Shall I stop a little, while you set yourself afire?"

"It isn't necessary," he said. "I can set myself afire under any circumstances."

He lit a cigarette.

"Is he English?" he couldn't help asking then.

"Yes," she said; "I like the English."

"You appear to like everything to-day." He did not intend to seem bitter, but he did it unintentionally.

(Confounded luck some fellows have.)

"I do. I'm very well content to-day."

He was silent, thinking.

"Well," she queried, after a while.

He pulled himself together with an effort.

"I think perhaps it's just as well," he said. [pg 055]

"What is just as well?"

"That I know."

"Know what?"

"About him. I shan't ever take the chances of calling on you now."

She laughed.

"He wouldn't put you out unless I told him to," she said. "You needn't be too afraid of him, you know."

His face grew a trifle flushed.

"I'm not afraid," he said, as coldly as it was in him to speak; "but I'll leave him the field."

She turned and looked at him.

"The field?" she asked, with puzzled eyebrows.

"Yes."

Then she frowned for an instant, and then a species of thought-ray suddenly flew across her face and she burst out laughing.

"Why, I do believe," she cried merrily, "I do believe you're jealous of the man at the door."

"Weren't you speaking of a man in the drawing-room?" he asked, all her phrases recurring to his mind together.

"No," she said laughing; "I was speaking of my footman. Oh, you are so funny."

The way the sun shone suddenly again! His horizon glowed so madly that he quite lost his head [pg 056]and leaning quickly downward seized her hand in its little tan driving glove of stitched dogskin, and kissed it—reins and all.

"I'm not funny," he said, "it was the most natural thing in the world."

She was laughing, but she curbed it.

"You'd better not be foolish," she said warningly. "It don't mix well with college."

"I'm thinking of cutting college," he declared boldly.

"Don't let us decide on anything definite until we've known one another twenty-four hours," she said, looking at him with a gravity that was almost maternal; and then she turned the horse's head toward home.

[pg 057]