THE ATTEMPT TO CARRY ELSPETH BY NUMBERS
That was one of Grizel's beautiful days, but there were others to
follow as sweet, if not so exciting; she could travel back through the
long length of them without coming once to a moment when she had held
her breath in sudden fear; and this was so delicious that she
sometimes thought these were the best days of all.
Of course she had little anxieties, but they were nearly all about
David. He was often at Aaron's house now, and what exercised her was
this--that she could not be certain that he was approaching Elspeth in
the right way. The masterful Grizel seemed to have come to life again,
for, evidently, she was convinced that she alone knew the right way.
"Oh, David, I would not have said that to her!" she told him, when he
reported progress; and now she would warn him, "You are too humble,"
and again, "You were over-bold." The doctor, to his bewilderment,
frequently discovered, on laying results before her, that what he had
looked upon as encouraging signs were really bad, and that, on the
other hand, he had often left the cottage disconsolately when he ought
to have been strutting. The issue was that he lost all faith in his
own judgment, and if Grizel said that he was getting on well, his face
became foolishly triumphant, but if she frowned, it cried, "All is
over!"
Of the proposal Tommy did not know; it seemed to her that she had no
right to tell even him of that; but the rest she did tell him: that
David, by his own confession, was in love with Elspeth; and so pleased
was Tommy that his delight made another day for her to cherish.
So now everything depended on Elspeth. "Oh, if she only would!" Grizel
cried, and for her sake Tommy tried to look bright, but his head shook
in spite of him.
"Do you mean that we should discourage David?" she asked dolefully;
but he said No to that.
"I was afraid," she confessed, "that as you are so hopeless, you might
think it your duty to discourage him so as to save him the pain of a
refusal."
"Not at all," Tommy said, with some hastiness.
"Then you do really have a tiny bit of hope?"
"While there is life there is hope," he answered.
She said: "I have been thinking it over, for it is so important to us,
and I see various ways in which you could help David, if you would."
"What would I not do, Grizel! You have to name them only."
"Well, for instance, you might show her that you have a very high
opinion of him."
"Agreed. But she knows that already."
"Then, David is an only child. Don't you think you could say that men
who have never had a sister are peculiarly gentle and considerate to
women?"
"Oh, Grizel! But I think I can say that."
"And--and that having been so long accustomed to doing everything for
themselves, they don't need managing wives as men brought up among
women need them."
"Yes. But how cunning you are, Grizel! Who would have believed it?"
"And then----" She hesitated.
"Go on. I see by your manner that this is to be a big one."
"It would be such a help," she said eagerly, "if you could be just a
little less attentive to her. I know you do ever so much of the
housework because she is not fond of it; and if she has a headache you
sit with her all day; and you beg her to play and sing to you, though
you really dislike music. Oh, there are scores of things you do for
her, and if you were to do them a little less willingly, in such a way
as to show her that they interrupt your work and are a slight trial to
you, I--I am sure that would help!"
"She would see through me, Grizel. Elspeth is sharper than you think
her."
"Not if you did it very skilfully."
"Then she would believe I had grown cold to her, and it would break
her heart."
"One of your failings," replied Grizel, giving him her hand for a
moment as recompense for what she was about to say, "is that you think
women's hearts break so easily. If, at the slightest sign that she
notices any change in you, you think her heart is breaking, and seize
her in your arms, crying, 'Elspeth, dear little Elspeth!'--and that is
what your first impulse would be----"
"How well you know me, Grizel!" groaned Sentimental Tommy.
"If that would be the result," she went on, "better not do it at all.
But if you were to restrain yourself, then she could not but reflect
that many of the things you did for her with a sigh David did for
pleasure, and she would compare him and you--"
"To my disadvantage?" Tommy exclaimed, with sad incredulity. "Do you
really think she could, Grizel?"
"Give her the chance," Grizel continued, "and if you find it hard, you
must remember that what you are doing is for her good."
"And for ours," Tommy cried fervently.
Every promise he made her at this time he fulfilled, and more; he was
hopeless, but all a man could do to make Elspeth love David he did.
The doctor was quite unaware of it. "Fortunately, her brother had a
headache yesterday and was lying down," he told Grizel, with calm
brutality, "so I saw her alone for a few minutes."
"The fibs I have to invent," said Tommy, to the same confidante, "to
get myself out of their way!"
"Luckily he does not care for music," David said, "so when she is at
the piano he sometimes remains in the kitchen talking to Aaron."
Tommy and Aaron left together! Tommy described those scenes with much
good humour. "I was amazed at first," he said to Grizel, "to find
Aaron determinedly enduring me, but now I understand. He wants what we
want. He says not a word about it, but he is watching those two
courting like a born match-maker. Aaron has several reasons for hoping
that Elspeth will get our friend (as he would express it): one, that
this would keep her in Thrums; another, that to be the wife of a
doctor is second only in worldly grandeur to marrying the manse; and
thirdly and lastly, because he is convinced that it would be such a
staggerer to me. For he thinks I have not a notion of what is going
on, and that, if I had, I would whisk her away to London."
He gave Grizel the most graphic, solemn pictures of those evenings in
the cottage. "Conceive the four of us gathered round the kitchen
fire--three men and a maid; the three men yearning to know what is in
the maid's mind, and each concealing his anxiety from the others.
Elspeth gives the doctor a look which may mean much or nothing, and he
glares at me as if I were in the way, and I glance at Aaron, and he is
on tenterhooks lest I have noticed anything. Next minute, perhaps,
David gives utterance to a plaintive sigh, and Aaron and I pounce upon
Elspeth (with our eyes) to observe its effect on her, and Elspeth
wonders why Aaron is staring, and he looks apprehensively at me, and I
am gazing absent-mindedly at the fender.
"You may smile, Grizel," Tommy would say, "and now that I think of it,
I can smile myself, but we are an eerie quartet at the time. When the
strain becomes unendurable, one of us rises and mends the fire with
his foot, and then I think the rest of us could say 'Thank you.' We
talk desperately for a little after that, but soon again the awful
pall creeps down."
"If I were there," cried Grizel, "I would not have the parlour
standing empty all this time."
"We are coming to the parlour," Tommy replies impressively. "The
parlour, Grizel, now begins to stir. Elspeth has disappeared from the
kitchen, we three men know not whither. We did not notice her go; we
don't even observe that she has gone--we are too busy looking at the
fire. By and by the tremulous tinkling of an aged piano reaches us
from an adjoining chamber, and Aaron looks at me through his fingers,
and I take a lightning glance at Mr. David, and he uncrosses his legs
and rises, and sits down again. Aaron, in the most unconcerned way,
proceeds to cut tobacco and rub it between his fingers, and I stretch
out my legs and contemplate them with passionate approval. While we
are thus occupied David has risen, and he is so thoroughly at his ease
that he has begun to hum. He strolls round the kitchen, looking with
sudden interest at the mantelpiece ornaments; he reads, for the
hundredth time, the sampler on the wall. Next the clock engages his
attention; it is ticking, and that seems to impress him as novel and
curious. By this time he has reached the door; it opens to his touch,
and in a fit of abstraction he leaves the room."
"You don't follow him into the parlour?" asks Grizel, anxiously.
"Follow whom?" Tommy replies severely. "I don't even know that he has
gone to the parlour; now that I think of it, I have not even noticed
that he has left the kitchen; nor has Aaron noticed it. Aaron and I
are not in a condition to notice such things; we are conscious only
that at last we have the opportunity for the quiet social chat we so
much enjoy in each other's company. That, at least, is Aaron's way of
looking at it, and he keeps me there with talk of the most varied and
absorbing character; one topic down, another up; when very hard put to
it, he even questions me about my next book, as if he would like to
read the proof-sheets, and when I seem to be listening, a little
restively, for sounds from the parlour (the piano has stopped), he has
the face of one who would bar the door rather than lose my society.
Aaron appreciates me at my true value at last, Grizel. I had begun to
despair almost of ever bringing him under my charm."
"I should be very angry with you," Grizel said warningly, "if I
thought you teased the poor old man."
"Tease him! The consideration I show that poor old man, Grizel, while
I know all the time that he is plotting to diddle me! You should see
me when it is he who is fidgeting to know why the piano has stopped.
He stretches his head to listen, and does something to his ear that
sends it another inch nearer the door; he chuckles and groans on the
sly; and I--I notice nothing. Oh, he is becoming quite fond of me; he
thinks me an idiot."
"Why not tell him that you want it as much as he?"
"He would not believe me. Aaron is firmly convinced that I am too
jealous of Elspeth's affection to give away a thimbleful of it. He
blames me for preventing her caring much even for him."
"At any rate," said Grizel, "he is on our side, and it is because he
sees it would be so much the best thing for her."
"And, at the same time, such a shock to me. That poor old man, Grizel!
I have seen him rubbing his hands together with glee and looking quite
leery as he thought of what was coming to me."
But Grizel could not laugh now. When Tommy saw so well through Aaron
and David, through everyone he came in contact with, indeed, what hope
could there be that he was deceived in Elspeth?
"And yet she knows what takes him there; she must know it!" she cried.
"A woman," Tommy said, "is never sure that a man is in love with her
until he proposes. She may fancy--but it is never safe to fancy, as so
many have discovered."
"She has no right," declared Grizel, "to wait until she is sure, if
she does not care for him. If she fears that he is falling in love
with her, she knows how to discourage him; there are surely a hundred
easy, kind ways of doing that."
"Fears he is falling in love with her!" Tommy repeated. "Is any woman
ever afraid of that?"
He really bewildered her. "No woman would like it," Grizel answered
promptly for them all, because she would not have liked it. "She must
see that it would result only in pain to him."
"Still----" said Tommy.
"Oh, but how dense you are!" she said, in surprise. "Don't you
understand that she would stop him, though it were for no better
reasons than selfish ones? Consider her shame if, in thinking it over
afterwards, she saw that she might have stopped him sooner! Why," she
cried, with a sudden smile, "it is in your book! You say: 'Every
maiden carries secretly in her heart an idea of love so pure and
sacred that, if by any act she is once false to that conception, her
punishment is that she never dares to look at it again.' And this is
one of the acts you mean."
"I had not thought of it, though," he said humbly. He was never
prouder of Grizel than at that moment. "If Elspeth's outlook," he went
on, "is different----"
"It can't be different."
"If it is, the fault is mine; yes, though I wrote the passage that you
interpret so nobly, Grizel. Shall I tell you," he said gently, "what I
believe is Elspeth's outlook exactly, just now? She knows that the
doctor is attracted by her, and it gives her little thrills of
exultation; but that it can be love--she puts that question in such a
low voice, as if to prevent herself hearing it. And yet she listens,
Grizel, like one who would like to know! Elspeth is pitifully
distrustful of anyone's really loving her, and she will never admit to
herself that he does until he tells her."
"And then?"
Tommy had to droop his head.
"I see you have still no hope!" she said.
"It would be so easy to pretend I have," he replied, with longing, "in
order to cheer you for the moment. Oh, it would even be easy to me to
deceive myself; but should I do it?"
"No, no," she said; "anything but that; I can bear anything but that,"
and she shuddered. "But we seem to be treating David cruelly."
"I don't think so," he assured her. "Men like to have these things to
look back to. But, if you want it, Grizel, I have to say only a word
to Elspeth to bring it to an end. She is as tender as she is innocent,
and--but it would be a hard task to me," he admitted, his heart
suddenly going out to Elspeth; he had never deprived her of any
gratification before. "Still, I am willing to do it."
"No!" Grizel cried, restraining him with her hand. "I am a coward, I
suppose, but I can't help wanting to hope for a little longer, and
David won't grudge it to me."
It was but a very little longer that they had to wait. Tommy,
returning home one day from a walk with his old school-friend, Gav
Dishart (now M.A.), found Aaron suspiciously near the parlour keyhole.
"There's a better fire in the other end," Aaron said, luring him into
the kitchen. So desirous was he of keeping Tommy there, fixed down on
a stool, that "I'll play you at the dambrod," he said briskly.
"Anyone with Elspeth?"
"Some women-folk you dinna like," replied Aaron.
Tommy rose. Aaron, with a subdued snarl, got between him and the door.
"I was wondering, merely," Tommy said, pointing pleasantly to
something on the dresser, "why one of them wore the doctor's hat."
"I forgot; he's there, too," Aaron said promptly; but he looked at
Tommy with misgivings. They sat down to their game.
"You begin," said Tommy; "you're black." And Aaron opened with the
Double Corner; but so preoccupied was he that it became a variation of
the Ayrshire lassie, without his knowing. His suspicions had to find
vent in words: "You dinna speir wha the women-folk are?"
"No."
"Do you think I'm just pretending they're there?" Aaron asked
apprehensively.
"Not at all," said Tommy, with much politeness, "but I thought you
might be mistaken." He could have "blown" Aaron immediately
thereafter, but, with great consideration, forbore. The old man was so
troubled that he could not lift a king without its falling in two. His
sleeve got in the way of his fingers. At last he sat back in his
chair. "Do you ken what is going on, man?" he demanded, "or do you no
ken? I can stand this doubt no longer."
A less soft-hearted person might have affected not to understand, but
that was not Tommy's way. "I know, Aaron," he admitted. "I have known
all the time." It was said in the kindliest manner, but its effect on
Aaron was not soothing.
"Curse you!" he cried, with extraordinary vehemence, "you have been
playing wi' me a' the time, ay, and wi' him and wi' her!"
What had Aaron been doing with Tommy? But Tommy did not ask that.
"I am sorry you think so badly of me," he said quietly. "I have known
all the time, Aaron, but have I interfered?"
"Because you ken she winna take him. I see it plain enough now. You
ken your power over her; the honest man that thinks he could take her
frae you is to you but a divert."
He took a step nearer Tommy. "Listen," he said. "When you came back he
was on the point o' speiring her; I saw it in his face as she was
playing the piano, and she saw it, too, for her hands began to trem'le
and the tune wouldna play. I daursay you think I was keeking, but if I
was I stoppit it when the piano stoppit; it was a hard thing to me to
do, and it would hae been an easy thing no to do, but I wouldna spy
upon Elspeth in her great hour."
"I like you for that, Aaron," Tommy said; but Aaron waved his likes
aside.
"The reason I stood at the door," he continued, "was to keep you out
o' that room. I offered to play you at the dambrod to keep you out.
Ay, you ken that without my telling you, but do you ken what makes me
tell you now? It's to see whether you'll go in and stop him; let's see
you do that, and I'll hae some hope yet." He waited eagerly.
"You do puzzle me now," Tommy said.
"Ay," replied the old man, bitterly, "you're dull in the uptak' when
you like! I dinna ken, I suppose, and you dinna ken, that if you had
the least dread o' her taking him you would be into that room full
bend to stop it; but you're so sure o' her, you're so michty sure,
that you can sit here and lauch instead."
"Am I laughing, Aaron? If you but knew, Elspeth's marriage would be a
far more joyful thing to me than it could ever be to you."
The old warper laughed unpleasantly at that. "And I'se uphaud," he
said, "you're none sure but what shell tak' him! You're no as sure
she'll refuse him as that there's a sun in the heavens, and I'm a
broken man."
For a moment sympathy nigh compelled Tommy to say a hopeful thing, but
he mastered himself. "It would be weakness," was what he did say, "to
pretend that there is any hope."
Aaron gave him an ugly look, and was about to leave the house; but
Tommy would not have it. "If one of us must go, Aaron," he said, with
much gentleness, "let it be me"; and he went out, passing the parlour
door softly, so that he might not disturb poor David. The warper sat
on by the fire, his head sunk miserably in his shoulders. The
vehemence had passed out of him; you would have hesitated to believe
that such a listless, shrunken man could have been vehement that same
year. It is a hardy proof of his faith in Tommy that he did not even
think it worth while to look up when, by and by, the parlour door
opened and the doctor came in for his hat. Elspeth was with him.
[Illustration: They told Aaron something.]
They told Aaron something.
It lifted him off his feet and bore him out at the door. When he made
up on himself he knew he was searching everywhere for Tommy. A terror
seized him, lest he should not be the first to convey the news.
Had he been left a fortune? neighbours asked, amazed at this unwonted
sight; and he replied, as he ran, "I have, and I want to share it wi'
him!"
It was his only joke. People came to their doors to see Aaron Latta
laughing.