Mr. Hugo Canning, of the well-known Pursuing-Sex; how the
Great Young Man pursued Miss Heth to a Summer-house, and what
stopped his Thundering Feet.
Nor were the figments of sweet sleep too fanciful or far-flown. About
eight-thirty o'clock, when Mrs. and Miss Heth stepped from a descending
lift into the glaring publicity of the main floor, the first object that
their eyes fell upon was Mr. Hugo Canning in the flesh. The second was
Cousin Willie Kerr, even more in the flesh, trotting loyally at his
side. At this precise instant, in short, the celebrated transient
quitted the dining-room for the relaxations of his evening.
The coincidence of the moment was pure: one hundred per cent, as they
say commercially. One takes it to mean that Destiny, having handled a
favorite child somewhat roughly for a time, now turned back its smiling
mother-face. The ladies Heth, having dined refinedly in their
sitting-room, descended in search of cooling breezes, or for any other
reason why. Over the spaces of the great court, half lobby, half parlor,
Miss Heth had seen the masculine apparitions an instant before they saw
her: or just in time, that is to say, to be showing them now her
flawless profile....
It is easily surmised that Miss Heth's manner in action was contained,
her habit the very reverse of forward. One seeing her now would be
cheaply cynical, indeed, to say or dream that, with reference to some
such conjuncture as the present, this girl had left a happy home many
hours before. Her presence shamed every unworthy surmise. With a lovely
unconsciousness she was spied walking her innocent ways toward the
piazza with mamma, even now girlishly unaware that an opposite and
uproarious sex was in headlong pursuit....
If this pursuit--to be doggedly literal--appeared to lag for a moment,
if it did not seem to start with that instant _élan_ which one had a
right to expect, be sure that there was a complication of sound reasons
for that. Kerr, in the circumstances, was the appointed leader of the
chase; and Kerr hesitated. Canning's desire to avoid the local society
and be left free to outdoor exercise and sleep was, in truth, only too
well known to him. And to-night, worse luck, the distinguished visitor
appeared even less socially inclined than usual: annoyed when the select
little party he had expected from northerly haunts had been found
represented at the Beach by a telegram instead; increasingly bored by
the desolate air of the all but empty hostelry. "When's the next train
out of this hell-hole?"--such was Mr. Canning's last recorded remark up
to this not uninteresting moment.
Kerr, when he saw Mrs. and Miss Heth over the distance, merely made a
genial exclamation, and then gazed. He was nearing forty, was Willie,
short and slightly bald, with an increasing appreciation of the world's
good things and as much good nature as his round figure called for.
Canning's acquaintance he had by the chance of a lifelong friendship
with Mrs. Allison Payne. By reason of a native clannishness and certain
small obligations of a more material nature, he was more than ready to
share his privileges with his brilliant cousins. But....
"So that's the drowned lady," said Canning's voice, rather moodily, at
his elbow.... "Well, then, I know her."
"Dandy girl, Carlisle," exclaimed Willie, instantly. "Great little piece
of work...."
One hundred feet away, opportunity unconsciously receded toward the
piazza. Willie, having hesitated through no unfaithfulness, plunged with
no want of tact.
"Got to speak to 'em a minute--make inquiries--cousins, y' know. D' ye
mind?"
"My dear chap, why should I?"
"Awright--just stop and say howdedo," said the plump diplomatist. "Won't
take a minute...."
And Canning, perceiving then that Kerr expected to make this stop in his
company, said with an assurance not unbecoming to his lordly bearing:
"If you please. And don't start anything, for pity's sake. I'm for bed
in fifteen minutes."
So it all fell out, according to the book. So it was that the pursuing
feet were free to thunder. So Mrs. Heth heard the voice of the leal one,
subdued from a distance: "_Howdedo, Cousin Isabel! How're you an'
Carlisle this evening_?..."
And so the maid turned, startled from her other-worldly dreams....
He was the greatest parti that had ever crossed her path, that was ever
likely to cross her path. But Miss Heth faced him with no want of
confidence; received his greeting with a charming bright negligence. One
saw readily that such a matter as "making an impression" was far indeed
from this maid's mind. If doubts, a vague uneasiness relative to the
afternoon, still fretted the hinterlands of her mind (and they did), she
was much too well trained, too resolute withal, to let them appear
troublously upon the surface. Moreover, the nap of forty minutes, not
winks, had been like the turning of a new leaf; and she was fortified,
woman-wise, with the knowledge that she looked her best. Over her
shoulders there clung a shimmering scarf, a pretty trifle all made of
the scales of a silver mermaid. It was observed, however, that the gray
crêpe-de-chine quite justified its choice....
The meeting of four had been effected in one end of the wide garish
space: among the loungers of the lobby, all eyes were turned in that
direction. There were salutations; the introduction of Mr. Canning to
Mrs. Heth; inquiries after Miss Heth's health. Quite easily the square
party resolved itself into two conversational halves. Mrs. Heth, it was
clear from the outset, preferred Willie Kerr's talk above any other
obtainable at that time and place. She was, and remained, absolutely
fascinated by it....
"It seems quite unnecessary," Mr. Canning was saying--but he pronounced
it "unne's'ry"--"to ask if you are any the worse for the ducking...."
"Oh, no--I'm quite well, thank you. We've suffered nothing worse than
the spoiling of all our plans in coming here!"