A RED, RED ROSE
I don't know whether it was the blue of her eyes or her dress or perhaps
the fact that they matched so beautifully, but at any rate Mrs. Green
put the proposition up to Mr. Gaillard with such adroitness that he
consented to the scholarship, and so quickly that she could hardly
believe the battle was won.
"I had not half used up my arguments," she said afterward, "and felt
that I must go on persuading when he was already persuaded."
She had started out with the premises that of course he must feel sorry
for the benighted North, so sadly in need of the softening influence of
the South. She descanted on how a little leaven of good manners would
leaven a whole lump of bad manners, and how popular Southern students
were in Northern schools and colleges because of the good manners and
breeding they brought with them. (This was particularly hard on Mrs.
Green, as she firmly held the opinion that people were the same all over
the world, that good manners were the same everywhere. She felt,
however, that she would use any argument to make Mr. Gaillard see the
light.)
She then told the story of the grateful man who had established the
scholarship at Exmoor for the four years of the academic course and
expatiated on his opinion of Southern youths. She lauded the college as
having turned out such good men. Gradually she got to the subject of
Louis and how close Wellington was to Exmoor, and before the old man
knew what he was doing he had consented to Louis' accepting the
scholarship. He did it with an air of having loaded the Yankees with
benefits in allowing one of his exalted position and azure blood to
stoop and mingle with them; but it made no difference to us what he felt
on the subject, just so he would let Louis accept.
We were having tea in their lovely garden and Louis was showing us his
flowers while Mrs. Green was wheedling "papa." She looked so lovely I
verily believe the old gentleman would have accepted the scholarship
himself just to be only ten miles from her for four years.
I believe Claire was even happier than Louis when "papa's" ultimatum was
pronounced. She was going to miss him more than even she could divine,
but her love for him was so deep that she was willing to give up
anything for him. Louis was glad and grateful, but the truth of the
matter was he was so taken up with Dee that mere college and
scholarships meant little to him.
"His eyes look just like Brindle's when he looks at her that way,"
sniffed Dum, who did not relish too much lovering toward her twin. "I
shouldn't be in the least astonished if he began to whine to be taken up
next."
"Why, Dum, I thought you liked Louis!"
"So I do. I like Brindle, too, and Oliver, the kitten; but I like them
in their places, and that is not everlastingly glued to Dee's side. I
must say I think he had better get out and hustle some before he comes
lollapalusing around Dee." I was awfully afraid someone would hear Dum,
and stirred my tea very loudly to drown her tirade.
"But, Dum, Dee grabbed his hand herself last night; she said she did," I
whispered, trying to set the conversation in a lower tone.
"Yes, I know that! But don't you reckon I saw him holding on to it for
dear life? He was mighty limp on Claire's side and mighty strenuous on
Dee's. When he had to put back a lock of hair, I saw him let go of his
sister's hand and swing to Dee's. And Dee with about as much feeling for
him as a wooden Indian!"
The Tuckers were, father and daughters, very strict about one another's
admirers. I remembered how Dee had sniffed over Reginald Kent's
admiration for Dum, and Zebedee, too; and how Dum and Dee carried on
over any attention their father paid any female or any female paid him.
Zebedee had not yet scented out Louis as a possible lover, but when he
did I was sure to hear from him. They one and all brought their
grievances to me. I used to think if any of them ever should unite
themselves to anyone in the holy bonds of matrimony, they would have to
have a triple wedding to keep the persons the Tuckers were marrying from
getting their eyes scratched out. If they were all in the same boat,
they would have to behave and sit steady.
In the meantime, Dee's influence over Louis was certainly a wholesome
one. Whether his love for her was of the undying brand or just the calf
kind, it was very sincere and ardent, so ardent that Dee must soon wake
up and realize that she had done a right serious thing when she put out
her girlish hand and drew back that poor boy's soul just as it was
getting ready for the journey to the Great Beyond. She was in a measure
responsible for him now, and the time would come when she would have to
be a woman and no longer a wooden Indian, have to treat Louis with a
different manner from the one she had for Brindle and Oliver; that is,
of course, provided Louis' love turned out to be the undying brand and
not the calf kind. When it was said that Dee Tucker treated anyone like
a dog, it meant the highest praise for that person. She treated all dogs
with a great deal more consideration than she did most people.
Every flower Dee admired, Louis immediately wanted to give her, but she
persuaded him to let them go on blooming where they belonged. He had a
greenhouse in the back of the garden, where some wonderful roses bloomed
all the year round. A great Jaqueminot filled one side of the house, its
crimson blooms beautiful to behold. Louis cut one and brought it out to
Dee. I was glad I was the only one who heard him as he gave it to her,
as I am sure Dum would have "acted up," as Mammy Susan calls it. Dum had
gone to the tea table to put down her cup, and Mrs. Green had detained
her a moment, while I wandered on in the maze of gravel walks. An
oleander hid me from Louis and Dee as he handed her the marvelous open
rose, and with a voice that even a wooden Indian would have remarked, he
said:
"When I send thee a red, red rose,
The sweetest flower on earth that grows,
Think, dear heart, how I love thee.
Listen to what the red rose saith
With its crimson leaf and fragrant breath:
'Love, I am thine in life and death!
Oh, my love, doth thou love me?'"
"Humph! Going some!" I thought, and backed down the walk, thereby
running into Dum, who smeared a lettuce sandwich on my back in the
encounter; but she did not know what I had heard.