Priscilla accepted the offer, in the end; but she had no notion of
staying in the tight-windowed parlor, with its harsh carpet on the floor,
and its samplers on the walls. She was of the new generation, the
generation which discovered that the night is beautiful, and not
unhealthy. "Let's go outside," she said to Joel. "There's a moon. We can
sit on the bench, under the apple tree...."
They went out, side by side. Joel was not a tall man, but he was inches
taller than Priscilla. She was tiny; a dainty, sweetly proportioned
creature, built on fine lines that were strangely out of keeping with the
stalwart stock from which she sprung. Her hair was darker than Joel's; it
was a brown so dark that it was almost black. But her eyes were vividly
blue, and her lips were vividly red, and her cheeks were bright.... She
slipped her hand through Joel's big arm as they crossed the yard; and
when they had found the seat, she drew his arm frankly about her
shoulders. "I'm cold," she said, laughing up at him. "You must keep me
warm...."
The moon flecked down through the leaves upon her face. There was
moonlight on her cheek, and on her mouth; but her thick hair and her eyes
were shadowed and mysterious. Joel saw that her lips were smiling.... She
drew his head down toward hers.... Joel was flesh and blood; and she
panted, and gasped, and pushed him away, and smoothed her hair, and
laughed at him. "I love you to be so strong," she whispered, happily.
He had not told them, at supper, of his promotion. He told Priscilla now;
and the girl could not sit still beside him. She danced in the path
before the seat; she perched on his knee, and caught his big shoulders in
her tiny hands and tried to shake him back and forth in her delight. "You
don't act a bit excited," she scolded. "You don't act as though you were
glad, a bit. Aren't you glad, Joe? Aren't you just so proud?..."
"Yes," he told her. "Of course. Yes. Yes, I am glad, and I am proud."
"Oh," she cried, "I could--I could just hug you in two." She tried it,
tightening her arms about his big neck, clinging to him.... He sat stiff
and awkward under her caresses, thrilling with a happiness that he did
not know how to express. He felt uneasy, half embarrassed. Her ecstasy
continued....
Then, abruptly, it passed. She became practical. Still upon his knee, she
began to ask questions. When would he sail away? She had heard the
_Nathan Ross_ was almost ready. When would he come back? When would he be
rich, so that they might be married? Would it be long?...
Joel found tongue. "We will be married Monday," he said slowly. "We will
go away--on the _Nathan Ross_--together. I do not want to go alone."
She slipped from his knee, stood before him. "Why, Joel! You're--you're
just crazy to think of it."
He shook his head. "No," he said. "No, I have thought all about it. It is
the best thing to do. We will be married Monday; and we will make a
bigger cabin on the--_Nathan Ross_...." His voice always slowed a little
as he spoke the name of his first ship. "You will be happy on her," he
said. "You will like it all.... The sea...."
She returned to his knee, tumbling his hair. "You silly! Men don't
understand. Why, I couldn't be ready for ever so long. And I wouldn't
dare go away with you. For so awfully long. I just couldn't...." Her eyes
misted with thought, and she said quite seriously: "Why, Joel, we might
find we didn't like each other at all. But we'd be on the ship, with no
way to get away from it ... for three years. Don't you see?"
Joel said calmly: "That is not so; because we know about--liking each
other, already. I know how it is with you. It is clothes that you are
thinking about. Well, you can get them in the stores. And you have many,
already. You have new dresses whenever I see you...."
She laughed gayly. "But, Joel, you only see me once in three years. Of
course I have new dresses, then. But I just couldn't...."
She laughed again, a faint uneasiness in her laughter. She left his knee,
and sat down soberly beside him. She was feeling a little crushed,
smothered ... as though she were being pushed back against a wall. Joel
said steadily:
"Mr. Worthen will be glad to know you go with me. And every one will be
glad for you...."
She burst, abruptly, into tears. She was miserable, she told him. He was
making her miserable. She hated to be bullied, and he was trying to bully
her. She hated him. She wouldn't marry him. Never. He could go off on his
old ship and never come back. That was all. She would not go; and he
ought not to ask her to, anyway. To prove how much she hated him, she
nestled against his side, and his arm enfolded her.
Joel had not the outward seeming of a wise man; nevertheless he now said:
"The other girls will all be envying you. To be married so quickly, and
carried away the very next day...." Her sobs miraculously ceased, and he
smiled quietly down upon her dark head against his breast. "Every one
will do things for you.... The whole town.... They will come down to see
us sail away."
He fell silent, leaving his words for her consideration. She remained
very quiet against his side for a long time, breathing very softly. He
thought he could almost read her thoughts....
"It will be," he said, "like a story. Like a romance." And the word
sounded strangely on his sober lips.
But at the word, the girl sat up quickly, both hands gripping his arm. He
could see her eyes dancing in the moonlight.... "Oh, Joe," she cried, "it
would really be just loads of fun. And terribly romantic.... Wonderful!"
She pressed a hand to her cheek, thinking: "And I could...."
She could, she said, do thus and so....
Joel listened, and he smiled. For he knew that his bride would sail away
with him.