Lary stopped by on his way to the office after luncheon to assure
himself that it was not all an iridescent dream. On him, too, Lavinia’s
stolid acceptance of Judith’s solution had a dampening effect. The rose
had been stripped of its blossoms and stood stark and thorny before
him. A few minutes of random talk, in which each sought to sound the
other’s depths, and then the man said, as if it were an inconsequential
afterthought:
“Would Wednesday evening do for the ceremony? Not that it makes any
difference. I feel as if we had been married from the beginning of
time. I told the baby about it, and she pleaded for Wednesday. Some
lucky omen, I believe. She said there was no use taking chances. I wish
I had her philosophy of life.”
“I wish I had _her_,” Judith cried, foolish tears rushing to her eyes.
“Why, you have all of us--from my father down. I never saw a conquest
more complete.” The man’s eyes were moist and shining. “But, dear,
the baby said another thing. She wants you to let Eileen serve as maid
of honour. Another omen--that she heard when Oliver’s sister came from
Brookline to attend Sylvia. It presages a happy marriage for the girl.”
“I know another old superstition that might apply--in a sinister way.
My grandmother was full of them. To serve as a bride’s attendant, or as
godmother at a christening, she held, was fatal to the little--”
Her voice broke and a wave of crimson tumbled over the fair cheek.
A shrug of swift annoyance. Why should she be blushing like an
unsophisticated school-girl? Larimore Trench caught his breath, and his
heart ceased its monotonous beating.
“You adorable being! You vestal-hearted woman! Don’t let me touch you.
Judith, Judith, I shall go mad with ecstasy.” He retreated a step, and
all at once he laughed, a laugh of sardonic triumph.
“Poor old fool gods! They thought they were destroying man when they
cleft him in two. Olympus never realized a thrill like this. Send me to
the office, sweetheart. I have to finish the specifications for Miss
Sanderson’s studio. How can a man build little tawdry boxes of wood and
stone, when his eyes have looked into heaven?”
Judith Ascott was sobbing on his shoulder.