The entire household saw us off on our motor trip. Uncle John beaming,
Mrs. Cardigan and the maids waving hands and aprons, Mother smiling at
us through a mist. She was coming to Green Hill as soon as we were
settled, and help me with my first housekeeping. She had demurred at
first when I begged her to: had said that "young people were better
off alone." But I, and then Bill, when he found how much I really
wanted her and finally Father had overridden all her objections. I
didn't tell my menfolk that it was delightful to have someone to whom
you could talk "Bill" by the hour, and who never grew tired of
listening and encouraging and interrupting with paeans of praise of
her own.
"What will she think of Mercedes?" I asked, as we rolled through the
city, out toward the sunshine and open spaces.
"She'll like her," said Bill. "Mother's a judge, and she adopted
Wright long ago."
"Those two wild children," I said, tolerantly.
The maddest cablegram had come to us just before we left. I was still
convulsed by it:
Mercedes willing wedding in fall out of my head with happiness
everything wonderful thank you a thousand times will see you very
soon most marvelous girl in the world sends her love so do _I_.
"WRIGHT"
"I suppose they expect us to be surprised," I said. "Ostriches!"
"I always knew you were a matchmaker," said Bill, "you certainly
staged the whole thing well."
"I had her out to amuse you, not Wright," said I, with partial truth.
"Oh, you did, did you? 'The best laid plans'--. Didn't you know that I
haven't had eyes or ears for another woman since that first night you
insulted me--"
"'Doctor Jumpy!'" said I, in delighted recollection.
"If it weren't that I have to drive the car--" said Bill.
"Perhaps, later, you could stop--" I suggested.
He stopped in the midst of the still considerable traffic. And then we
sped on again, leaving a breathless, open-mouthed policeman struck
into stone, behind us.
"Boston," said I to Bill, after we had been there for two hours, "is
the darnedest place!"
"What's the matter with it? Cradle of American culture and
everythin'."
"Reminds me of Havana," I said.
"Havana! You're insane!" Bill laid his fork down and gazed at me in
amazement over the table in the Copley Plaza.
"Because it's so different," I said, "but the streets aren't much
wider, so there. And after all, I think I could fall in love with the
Common, and even Back Bay. There's something very solid about it all."
As we left the city and went on through the lovely Massachusetts
country, I became more and more enamoured of my own unknown New
England. And Bill, delightful companion, grew positively instructive.
I learned a little history by the way, and we poked around and
explored, in a very leisurely manner.
Wellesley, dignified and gracious, fascinated me. We went up to the
college and spent a happy half-day there with one of the professors
who had been a school friend of Bill's, no, our Mother's. But I
couldn't help thinking of Mercedes! My bright, tropical bird, caged in
a classroom, filing to chapel with hundreds of other girls, part of a
crowd. I determined to go some day to Vassar and see her Waterloo for
myself.
Pride's Crossing filled me with envy. I liked the beautifully kept
lawns and the wonderful, garden-encircled houses. But I fell so deeply
in love with Gloucester, even the fish, that Bill despaired of ever
getting me away.
"Wait till you see Salem!" he said, "I'll probably have to tuck a door
in the back-seat. You'll want one, I know. Jolliest doors in the
world."
Magnolia, Salem, Plymouth, they went by like dreams. The big hotels
where we stayed, the water, the Spring skies, the first reticent
flowers, and finally, the funny little Cape towns: Hyannis Port, with
its beaches and docks, its high Sunset Hill, where we watched the sun
go down red and purple over the quiet bay, and where we saw the white
sails of the fishing-crafts lift like wings against the morning
sky--it was all so lovely, so new, so untarnished for me. I even loved
the grey fog that swept in at night, like soft veils. And everywhere,
serious or gay, always the perfect comrade, was Bill. I would lie
awake in the mornings listening to him splash in the shower or
whistling to himself in his room, not calling out good morning to him
for five whole minutes, just happy at having him so near.
But Provincetown!
We came into it on a wonderful, clear morning, into that sleepy,
little town, girdled with sand, on the edge of the wide, blue bay.
Some of the cottages were open, even as early as it was in the season,
and the little streets were bright with people. Our Inn was close down
on the beach, a dark-red, rambling building, built half a century
before, and beautifully remodelled for modern purposes. There were
ships' lanterns and clocks within, a wide, glassed verandah on which
one consumed quantities of delicious food and salt air, a ship's rope
for the banister of the stairway which led, steeply, up to the second
floor. Beyond the landing was my room, with three great windows
fronting the bay. One could almost have flung a stone into the water
from them.
The room was in rose-color, like my own room at home, and cool, dull
green. Counter-pane, chair cushions, curtains, and dressing-table
rioted with delightfully impossible roses, and the whole room smelled
of salt and sun and the little lavender and rose-leaf bags I found in
bureau-drawers and on closet-shelves. And my bath was big and white, a
tiled, immaculate room, with cross-stitched towels and washrags,
sweet-scented soaps and a dazzling array of bottles and
toothbrush-mugs.
"How can I clean my razor on this?" demanded Bill, appearing in my
room with a little towel held at arm's length. He surveyed the silken
baskets of flowers designed upon it, with an air of deep concern.
"Oh, but you mustn't!" I said, snatching it from him in dismay.
"Oh, but I must!" he contradicted. "Look at this beard! We left
Chatham so early this morning that I didn't get a moment to shave."
I rubbed my cheek against the square, firm chin.
"Ouch!"
"I told you so!"
"Come with me," I said, with dignity, and led him into his own
bathroom, where I produced for him certain small towels, hanging under
a legend "For your razor," and left him chuckling.
Bill's room was blue and yellow, and he complained that it was far too
pretty for a man. We were still arguing about it when we went forth to
survey the town. I popped in and out of shops like "an agitated
rabbit," according to Bill, and bought armsful of bayberry candles,
little delicate water-colors, and about six old, brass knockers; the
last named purchases moving Bill to say that he supposed we would have
to put one on the garage and another on the hen-coop.
The little inn was deserted save for us, the maids, an amiable and
remarkable colored cook, and the adorable little lady who was our
hostess. She had a tenderness for brides and grooms! Bill recalled her
as having said so on the one occasion he had lunched with her, in
Provincetown, in the "dark ages before I met you, Mavis," and I think
she was happy to have us there. At all events, she never said so if
she was not, and we stayed for two, wonderful weeks.
It was too early for swimming, of course, even for Bill's iron
constitution, but we spent hours on the yellow sands, watching the
boats, and the sunlight shifting over the water. Once a battleship
steamed in and anchored not far away, and that evening there were Navy
men in the porch-dining-room, quite beautiful in their uniforms, very
splendid to look at, under the soft lights of the ships' lanterns,
lingering over their coffee and cigars.
Bill scraped acquaintance with them, of course, with the consequence
that we had tea one afternoon aboard the ship, with the most cordial
and charming hosts in the world. I had not been there half an hour,
palpitant with excitement, before every unmarried officer present had
gotten me aside on one pretext or another and shown me the picture of
"the prettiest girl in the world, Mrs. Denton!" And I will say for the
Benedicts too, that their tiny cabins were filled with pictures of
wives and babies. It was a very pleasant tea-hour, but Bill hurried me
home long before I was tired of deck and guns, mascot--a frisky goat
named "Narcissus," and the crowds of amusing sailor-boys in their
infantile garb.
"Haven't had you to myself for a dog's age," he growled. "What did
those men mean, carrying you off like that, with their 'Mrs. Denton,
please come with me,' or 'Oh, Mrs. Denton, I've got something to show
you.' Jackasses!"
"I thought them very nice," said I demurely, "especially that tall one
with all the gold braid and the fascinating eyes."
"Fascinating eyes! Ye Gods! Never again, young woman!" and he hustled
me out of the ship's boat, across the sand and into the house, lest,
as he said, "The eyes-fellow should be standing with field glasses on
the deck waiting to wave to you again!"
When we were in our rooms again, and I had called him to hook me
up--we were dressing for dinner--he came in and, fumbling with those
clever surgeon's fingers at the hooks of my frock, swept me and the
frock suddenly and breathlessly into his arms.
"Don't keep me waiting too long, Mavis," he said, very low.
I put my arms around his neck and said something in his ear. And after
a moment he kissed me, very gently, and let me go. It was ten minutes
before I realized that he had gone without completing his task of
lady's maid.
That night a full moon rose, golden and glamorous, over the bay. Bill
and I walked out on the sands, quite late. I had on a wooly, white
coat over my thin dress, and had changed to more sensible shoes. After
all, I thought, it was worth a dozen Cubas, the keen, salt air, and
the dear home country, just stirring under the breath of Spring.
"Happy?" asked Bill, as we sat down on some driftwood logs and watched
the ever-widening golden wake of the moon-boat.
I leaned my head against his shoulder and nodded.
"You've never looked so beautiful," he said, "as tonight."
I drew his tall head down to mine,
"Do you think so?" I whispered, and then, very softly, "I love you, my
husband--"
Together, in the full glory of the moonlight, we walked in silence
back to the house. The lights gleamed above in my rose and green
bedroom, and the door was open between--