STUART OBJECTS
That night, after Mr. Jefferson's unexpected proposal that she should
assist him in his literary work, Georgiana, running out upon an errand
in the business part of the village, encountered James Stuart. This had
been a not infrequent happening in days past, but since Jeannette's
arrival it had not once occurred. Stuart was much at the house, but not
for a fortnight had Georgiana had ten minutes alone with him.
That he welcomed the chance as well as she was evident from his first
word: "Great luck! At last I get you to myself for half a wink without a
soul around. Where are you going? Wherever it is, you don't go back to
the house till you've given me what I want."
"And what's that?" queried Georgiana.
Her tone was cool in spite of herself. She had missed the almost daily
walks and talks with Stuart, glad as she had been to have him do his
effectual part in helping her entertain her guests. And there had been,
as she was obliged to confess to herself, a sense that if he had been
very anxious not to lose altogether her society he would have managed,
in spite of lack of ordinary opportunity, to bring about such meetings.
How much she could feel the absence of his companionship she had not
dreamed until she had been tried.
After the friendly village fashion of intimate acquaintance he lightly
grasped her arm in its covering of the scarlet-lined military cape she
always wore on such walks, and turned her from her course toward a side
street leading away, instead of toward, the centre she had been
approaching. She protested, but he was laughingly determined and she
yielded. It was good, undeniably good, to have Jimps by her side again,
and hear his voice in his old eagerly devoted tones in her ear. That he
was really overjoyed at coming upon her in a free hour it was impossible
to doubt.
"My word! George, but you've kept me on short rations lately," he began
accusingly. "One would think you had suddenly put me on a diet list.
Nothing but sweets, contrary to the usual prohibitions of the medical
men for the husky male! Do you think I have no appetite for the good
substantial food? Parties and drives and candy-pulls, always with the
lovely guest, and never an old-time hobnob with my chum! What's the
matter with you, George? What have I done?"
"But such sweets! And so soon they will be gone, and nothing for the
hungry youth but plain bread and butter. How absurd of you to complain!"
"Bread and butter! Beefsteak and mushrooms, you mean; roast turkey and
cranberry sauce! A fellow can live on them. But not on eternal honey and
fudge--with my apologies to the lady."
"I should say so, Jimps. You're outrageous, and you don't mean it. I
wouldn't walk another step with you if you did."
"She's undoubtedly the sweetest thing on earth," admitted Stuart. "There
are times when I think I'd like to ask her to marry me on the spot--if
she'd have me, which she wouldn't--me, a farmer! She dazzles me,
bewitches me, makes me all but lose my head. And then I look at my chum,
the girl I've known all my life, and I think--well, sugar is all right,
but you can't get on without salt--and pepper--and ginger--and----"
"Jimps!" In spite of herself Georgiana was laughing infectiously, and
Stuart joined her. "How absolutely ridiculous! I sound like a whole
spice box, and nothing but the 'bitey' spices at that."
"That's what you are," declared James Stuart contentedly. "And when I'm
with you I have no hankering after sugar. Mustard plasters for me;
they're warming."
They walked on, the spirit of good fellowship keeping step with them. If
Georgiana had allowed herself to believe that Stuart was completely
absorbed with the enchantments of the beautiful guest, she now
discovered that, quite as he had said, the enchantment was by no means
complete and he had not lost appreciation of the old friendship and what
it meant to him. This was good to feel. It was all she wanted. If she
had been guilty of a creeping sense of jealousy as she watched Stuart
and Jeannette together, so evidently enjoying each other's society to
the full, it was because it made her suddenly and unpleasantly
understand what it would be to her to live her days in this commonplace
little village without Stuart at her right hand. But here he was,
literally at her right hand, and he was making her walk with him, not a
beggarly square or two out of her way, but a good three miles around a
certain course which once entered upon could not be cut short by any
crossroads. And all the way he was telling her, as he had always done,
all manner of intimate things about his affairs, and asking her of hers.
Before the circuit had been made Georgiana had done that which an hour
before she would have thought far from her intention, natural as such a
procedure would have been a month ago, before Jeannette came--she had
told Stuart of Mr. Jefferson's offer. If the truth must be confessed,
after suffering the mood which had only lately been dissipated, she
could not resist producing the effect she knew, if Jimps were still
Jimps, was bound to be produced. Such is woman!
Quite as she had foreseen, he was aroused on the instant. The generous
sharing of Georgiana Warne with other aspirants for her favour had never
been one of James Stuart's characteristics, open-hearted though he was
in every other way. He stopped short in the snowy path, regarding her
sternly while she smiled in the darkness. This was balm for a heavy
heart, indeed, this recognition she had of his disapproval even before
he jerked out the quick words:
"Great Scott! You don't mean to tell me you'd do it! Spend hours every
day working with E. C. Jefferson? Not a bit of it. Not so you'd notice
it! Tell him to go to thunder!"
"James McKenzie Stuart! What a tone to take! Why on earth should you
object?" Georgiana's tone was rich and sweet and astonished--it
certainly sounded astonished.
"Because you're my chum, my partner; and I won't have you going into
partnership with any other man--not much!"
"Partnership! Secretaries and stenographers aren't partners----"
"Aren't they, though! The most intimate sort. And a fellow like
Jefferson, full of books and literary lore--he'd be breaking off work
half his time to talk Montaigne and Samuel Johnson and--and Bernard
Shaw with you. And you'd drink it all in with those eyes of yours and
make him think----" Georgiana's uncontrollable laughter halted but did
not stop him. "What's his work, anyhow? Writing a History of Art?"
growled Stuart, marching on, with Georgiana beside him bursting into
fresh mirth with every step. Her heart was quite light enough now; no
danger that she had lost her friend!
"I've no idea what it is, but it's certainly not that. He seldom speaks
of art in any form--except literary art, of course. I've an idea it's
scientific research of some sort."
"Then why isn't he in a laboratory somewhere, boiling acids? Why isn't
he digging in city libraries or hunting scientific stuff over in Vienna?
Vienna's the place for him. I wish him there fast enough," irritably
continued this asperser of other men's vocations.
"His research work has undoubtedly been done; he has pile upon pile of
notebooks and papers on file. His handwriting is a fright; that's
probably what he wants me for--to make it legible to the printer."
"Let him send for a typist then; that's what he needs if he writes an
illegible fist. You can't typewrite."
"I could learn, if necessary. I've often wished I could."
"You could learn! Yes, you could learn to come when E. C. Jefferson
whistled, I've no doubt! Oh, I beg your pardon, George--you needn't turn
away. Nobody could ever fancy you coming at any man's whistle. I'm just
seeing red, that's all, at the thought of your going into a thing like
this, that's bound to throw you two into the closest sort of relations."
"That's all nonsense, Jimps. You're behaving like a little boy. And you
know I can't afford to lose a chance like this. You know how slow the
rug-weaving is----"
"You don't mean you're still at that?"
"Of course I am. The prices are very good now, and I'm----"
"Then you certainly can't lose them to go into copying manuscript by
hand. Stick to the weaving; that's my advice."
"Mr. Jefferson saw the loom to-day. He thinks it too hard work for me,"
suggested Georgiana slyly.
This was a telling shot, for Stuart had often expressed himself in
similar fashion in the past. As was to have been expected, her companion
became instantly more nettled than ever.
"Oh, he does, does he?" he said hotly. "I'd like to know what affair it
is of his. You know well enough I've protested scores of times against
that weaving----"
"And now you tell me to stick to it!"
He wheeled upon her. His tone changed: "George, I know I'm absolutely
unreasonable. Of course I don't want you pulling that back-breaking
thing. I don't want you to have to hustle for money any sort of way;
that's the truth. What I do want is--to keep you away from every other
earthly beggar but myself!"
"O James Stuart, how absurd! That's not a brotherly attitude at all."
"The role of brother isn't always entirely satisfying," retorted Stuart
under his breath. "You know well enough you've only to say the word and
I----"
"Jimps dear"--Georgiana's voice was very gentle now--"remember we've
left all that boy-and-girl sentimentalizing behind. It was quite settled
long ago that you and I were to be brother and sister, 'world without
end.' And I know you mean it as brotherly, all this fuss about my taking
a bit of perfectly reasonable employment for just a little while."
"Little while? Do you know how long he expects to be at work on that
confounded book?"
"No; do you?"
"He told me one night when we were smoking together that he had given
himself a year to do this work in. He came in January; this is April.
Do you wonder I'm a bit upset at the notion of my best friend's going
into harness with him for a year?" Stuart's tone was grim.
Georgiana, now in wild spirits with the relief from her fears, and the
suddenly opening prospect of a long period of such work as she dearly
loved, had some ado to keep her state of mind from showing. "It doesn't
follow," she said, outwardly sober, "that he intends to spend that whole
year here."
"He will--if he gets you for a side partner. A man would be a fool not
to."
"That's a great tribute--from a brother," admitted Georgiana, smiling to
herself. "But as far as our lodger is concerned, you need have no fear
of any but the most businesslike relations, even though I worked beside
him--as is quite improbable--for a year. He's not that sort."
"Not what sort? Don't you fool yourself. He's human, if his mind is bent
on writing a book. And you are--Georgiana!"
"Jimps, there's a path in your brain that's getting worn too deep
to-night. Come--let's hurry home. Jeannette will wonder what's become of
me."
"Let her wonder. George, are you going to do this thing?"
"Of course I am."
"No matter how I feel about it?"
"Why, Jimps--really, do you think you have any right----"
"Georgiana, I--love you!"
"No, Jimps, you don't. Not so much as all that. You have a brotherly
affection----"
"Brotherly affection doesn't hurt; this does," was Stuart's declaration.
"No, it doesn't, my dear boy. You're just made with a queer sort of
jealous element in your composition, and when something happens to call
it out you think it's--something quite different," explained Georgiana
rather lamely. "You know perfectly that you and I fit best as good
friends; we should be awfully unhappy tied up together in any way. Why,
we settled that long ago, as I reminded you just now."
"It seems to have come unsettled," Stuart muttered.
"Then we must settle it again. Truly--you mean everything to me as a
brother, friend, chum--whichever you like, and I--well, I should feel
pretty badly to lose you. But----"
"I wish you'd leave it there. I don't fancy what you're going on to
say."
"Then I'll not say it. Come, Jimps, give me your hand on the old
compact."
"I will--on exactly one condition." Stuart stood still and faced her in
a certain secluded spot just where the snowy path was on the point of
turning into a wider, well-used thoroughfare.
"What is it? Make it a fair one."
"It is fair--the fairest between a man and a woman. It's this: leave the
'never-never' clause out. I'll agree to any terms of friendship you
insist on if--well, just leave me a chance, will you--dear?"
There was a brief silence while Georgiana considered. She had not
expected this, certainly not just now, when her long-time friend frankly
admitted the drawing power of the winsome visitor. As she had implied,
there had been between them, in the days of dawning maturity while they
were yet in school together, certain youthfully tender vows which they
had later exchanged for the more carefully considered terms of the warm
but less sentimental friendship which had now existed for some years.
That Stuart was really dearer to her, more a necessary part of her life
than she had realized, had been made disconcertingly clear to her by the
totally unexpected pangs she had suffered during the last fortnight,
when it had seemed to her that she was likely to lose the fine fervor of
his devotion. Now, however, that she was assured of his intense loyalty,
she was the old Georgiana again, ready to stand beside her friend to the
last ditch, if need be, but wholly unwilling to bind herself to his
chariot wheels while no ditches threatened.
"'Never' is a big word," she said finally. "It isn't best to say 'never'
about anything in this life."
"Then you won't ask me to say it?" His voice was eager.
"Not if you don't want to, Jimps."
"I don't. There was never anything surer than that. Give me your
hand--chum."
She gave it. "All right--chum."
He had pulled off his own glove; he now gently drew off hers, and the
two warm hands clasped. "Here's our everlasting friendship," he said,
with a little thrill in his low voice. "Nothing shall come between us
except--love."
"Jimps! That's not the old compact at all."
"It's the new one then. Isn't it sufficiently ambiguous to suit you?"
"It's much too ambiguous."
"I can make it plainer----"
"Perhaps you'd better leave it as it is," she admitted, recognizing
danger.
"As you say."
He held her hand for a minute in such a close grasp that it hurt her,
but she did not wince. Ah! if she might just have this pleasantly
satisfying relation with the man whose presence in her life meant warmth
and light and even happiness on the hard road of everyday routine, and
then have somehow besides the contentment which comes of accomplishment
along a line of chosen activity--and still remain free for whatever God
in heaven might send her of real joy, she could ask no better.
"Jimps, I'm perfectly contented," she said radiantly, as they walked on.
"That's good. I wish I were."
"What would make you?"
"Your promise to earn your money making rugs--with me to help you."
"But you couldn't!"
"I could learn."
"Oh, how absurd! You haven't time, if there were no other reason."
He did not answer, and, since they were now back in the village and
nearing the object of Georgiana's errand, no more was said until they
were once again on their way homeward. They walked in silence until they
reached the very doorstep of the manse. Then Stuart made one more
protest.
"Not even to please me, George?" he asked, as she stood on the step
above him, leading the way in to Jeannette and the warm fireside.
"Jimps, I'm sorry you feel that way about it. But I've talked with
Father Davy and he agrees that it's a godsend. There's no reason in the
world I could give Mr. Jefferson for refusing to help him when he needs
it, and when I need it, too. Therefore--I'm sorry, Jimps, since you are
so strange as to care--but I've made up my mind."
"You'll excuse me if I don't come in to-night," he said, and turned
away.
She stood looking comprehendingly after him as he left her, then ran in
and closed the door. The mood which held her now was so far from being
black that it was rosy red.