"I should like," I said, "nothing better than to disprove all the
things you think about me."
"You never will."
"Do you know what I think about myself? I think that I shall astonish
the world with one of those grand passions which make history worth
reading. The girl who gets me will be very lucky!"
"If you ever do have a grand passion," said Evelyn thoughtfully, "and
it's just barely possible, it won't be for a girl. It won't be the
kind that brings any good to anybody."
As they appeared in the door of the living-room, Fulton's hand dropped
from his wife's waist. She was very rosy and lovely. They looked as
if they had loitered on their way back from the nursery.
"Mrs. Fulton," I said, "I don't like your coffee-machine because I
think it's going to explode, and we don't know how to get the coffee
out. And I don't like your friend. She _has_ exploded and scalded me
cruelly."
"Oh," said Lucy, with the look of a knowing child, "I know, you've been
playing truths, and Evelyn's got a New England conscience."
"If she wasn't so good-looking," I said, "I don't believe people would
have her around, after a few experiences."
"You must try not to let her get on your nerves," said Fulton, "for I'm
counting on you to keep an eye on this household while I'm away, and to
see that those who inhabit it behave themselves."
"I don't want any more talk about going away," said Mrs. Fulton; "the
fact is bad enough. I'm not a bit ashamed to have people know that
I'll be miserable and cross all the time you are gone."
But she wasn't.
I saw her the next day just after his train had pulled out. She had
taken Jock and Hurry to see him off. And all three, I was told by an
eye-witness, had wept openly and without shame. My informant, Mrs.
Deering, said that she had been reminded of Louis XVI leaving his
family for the scaffold. But when I saw them five minutes later (you
could still hear the far-off coughing of the northbound train) only
Hurry looked grave, while Jock and his mother were illustrating to
perfection the old adage, "Out of sight out of mind."
They did not look like a mother and her children, but like a big sister
with her very littlest brother and sister. Hurry, sitting in the
middle, was being allowed to hold the reins and the whip. She was in
her usual hurry, and you could see at a glance that over any actual use
of the whip friction was constantly arising. Under the runabout could
be seen the thin dangling legs of Cornelius Twombly. I waved and
shouted. Mrs. Fulton and Jock waved and shouted back, and Hurry seized
the opportunity to strike cunningly with the whip. The horse lurched
sharply forward, the three handsome bare heads jerked sharply back, and
upon two wheels, in dust and laughter, they rounded the nearest corner
and vanished.
I was going nowhere in particular, and so I turned my pony and trotted
after them. If they came to grief, I thought, I owed it to Fulton to
be on hand to pick up the pieces. But I didn't really expect to be
useful. I caught them just as they pulled up in front of their house,
and within a minute Hurry had commandeered me to ride her round the
block, so I took her up in front, and we had a fine ride; then Jock,
looking wistful, had to have his turn, and after that I was ordered to
leave my pony and come see the new sand pile and the new puppy. Mrs.
Fulton had gone into the house and left me to my fate, so I gave a hand
to Jock and a hand to Hurry, and they dragged me to their own
particular playground, and made me build King Solomon's palace in the
"Butterfly that Stamped," and plant a whole palace garden with sprigs
of box and Carolina cherry. And I built and planted with all my might,
and it was a lot of fun, until suddenly Hurry crawled into my lap, and
laid her head against me and went to sleep.
"You mustn't mind her," said Jock, "she's only a little baby."
I didn't mind her a bit; but somehow she had taken all the fun out of
me, and made me feel more serious and tender than I liked. I made her
as comfortable as I could, and presently my own crossed legs began to
go to sleep; the new puppy made a hunter-like dash into the nearest
shrubbery, Jock caught up his bow and arrow and followed, the
children's nurse scuttled off toward the kitchen wing for a cup of tea,
and I was generally abandoned to my fate.
Once or twice Hurry twitched sharply as all young animals do in sleep;
and once she shook her head quite sharply as if a dream had required
something of her and been denied. Then she turned her face upward so
that it was in the full glare of the sun and because I had no hat I
shielded it with my hand.
Then very quietly came Lucy Fulton and stood looking down at us, and I
looked up at her, and in that exchange of glances was promoted from an
acquaintance to an old and intimate friend of the family. Thereafter
we did not have to make new beginnings of conversations, but could if
we chose resume where we had left off.
Hurry waked as suddenly as she had gone to sleep, and Lucy made her
thank me for taking such good care of her. But when it was time for me
to get up out of the hot sand, I couldn't at first because of the
soundly sleeping legs, and when I managed it, it was for Hurry's
benefit, with a great, and I hope, humorous exaggeration of the pains
and difficulties.
I don't know why I drank so many cocktails that night before dinner,
nor so much champagne at dinner, nor so many whiskies afterward. I had
neither made a heavy killing at the races, nor met with disaster. If
the day differed from other days it was only in this, that I had
received the confidence of a little child and her mother; that this
confidence had touched my heart very nearly, and given me the wish to
be of use to those two, and if necessary to sacrifice my selfish self
for them. Feeling then that I was a better man than I had thought
myself, elated with that thought, and almost upon the brink of good
resolutions, I cut into a rubber of bridge, and began to drink
cocktails. Why, I shall never know. Let those who drink explain and
understand, each to himself, and let those who don't drink despise and
condemn, publicly, as is usual with them.