Hughes had said that he would be all right in the morning, but he was
surprised to find that he really was so. It seemed incredible that one
could feel as he had felt in the evening, and wake in the morning quite
well. More than ever was he ashamed of himself. He couldn’t have been
really ill at all.
The great thing now was to efface the disastrous impression he must have
made by this weakness. He must make Mimi realize that he was not the
sort of person who was ever ill, or ever laid down, or desired cups of
tea. He came downstairs early, and after a few repentant words to Mrs.
Boles--who had got down still earlier--he decided to take a walk.
Mimi and Mrs. Dexter would, of course, get up late, as was the habit of
city people, and when he met them, he would remark casually that he had
had a five-mile walk before breakfast. He went into the library, where
he had left his pipe, and he had just taken it in his hand when Mimi
appeared in the doorway.
“Oh! I see you’re better this morning!” she remarked, polite and nothing
more.
“Yes,” Hughes replied. “It was nothing. A cold--something of the sort.
But, Miss Dexter! Look here! I’m--I’m afraid I wasn’t--I didn’t--You may
have thought I didn’t appreciate your great kindness--”
Miss Dexter appeared very much mollified by this tone.
“Well, you weren’t yourself,” she said, softly.
Hughes was silent for a moment. It was generous of her to think that,
but it wouldn’t do.
“I’m afraid I was myself,” he admitted at last. “I mean--I am like that
sometimes. I don’t want you to think that I’m--”
“I don’t,” she said softly.
He was greatly disconcerted by this. He glanced at her; she was wearing
a rose-colored dress, and it made him a little dizzy. She was so
extraordinarily lovely. He did not think it wise to look at her any more
or to speak to her just then, so he began to fill his pipe instead.
“Mr. Hughes,” she inquired, “have you had your breakfast?”
“No,” he answered, “I was waiting for--”
“Then you mustn’t smoke,” Mimi said firmly. “It’s the worst thing in the
world before breakfast. Please put that pipe down!”
He was amazed, astounded, by this tone of authority, so much so that he
forgot himself and looked at her again. Ordering him about, tyrannizing
over him, this outrageous young thing!
He was saved just in the nick of time by Mrs. Dexter’s entrance. But he
had had his warning. He knew that he would have put down that pipe. He
saw clearly that he would be absolutely under the girl’s thumb if he
didn’t look out.
Anyhow, she was getting a salutary example of the plain and simple life.
Breakfast from thick, sensible china, set out on a red and white checked
cloth, wholesome food, but no trace of demoralizing daintiness. He
wondered anxiously what she thought of it; certainly she didn’t appear
at all disdainful, and certainly her appetite was not adversely
affected. And when the meal was ended, she offered, and even insisted,
in the most sincere and friendly manner, upon helping Mrs. Boles with
the dishes. He was proud of her.
But he was very much disappointed in Mrs. Boles. She wouldn’t allow
this. She said: “No, child! Indeed you won’t!” as if she were defending
Mimi against persons who wished to treat her like a Cinderella in the
drudge phase. And when Mimi went out of the room to fetch something,
both Mrs. Boles and Mrs. Dexter looked after her with the same sort of
smile.
“Well! We’re only young once!” Mrs. Boles said with a sigh.
“Yes!” Mrs. Dexter agreed, also sighing. “Our troubles come soon
enough!”
They meant him. He knew it. They meant that if Mimi should marry him,
she would at once cease to be young and happy. This exasperated him, yet
it worried him. Was it possible that these two matrons could discern in
him qualities fatal to a woman’s happiness?
Did they think him capable of any harshness toward that small, gay
creature in a pink dress? Well, he wasn’t. He knew, and he alone, how he
felt about her.
Still, he did not mention his plan of taking them for a fine, healthful
cross-country walk that afternoon, and instead he telephoned to the
village for a motor car. It came promptly at half past two, but it went
back again empty. Nobody cared to go out in it, because Mrs. Boles had a
chill.