Mrs. Durgin and Cynthia did not seek any formal meeting the next morning.
The course of their work brought them together, but it was not till after
they had transacted several household affairs of pressing importance that
Mrs. Durgin asked: "What's this about you and Jeff?"
"Has he been telling you?" asked Cynthia, in her turn, though she knew he
had.
"Yes," said Mrs. Durgin, with a certain dryness, which was half humorous.
"I presume, if you two are satisfied, it's all right."
"I guess we're satisfied," said the girl, with a tremor of relief which
she tried to hide.
Nothing more was said, and there was no physical demonstration of
affection or rejoicing between the women. They knew that the time would
come when they would talk over the affair down to the bone together, but
now they were content to recognize the fact, and let the time for talking
arrive when it would. "I guess," said Mrs. Durgin, "you'd better go over
to the helps' house and see how that youngest Miller girl's gittin'
along. She'd ought to give up and go home if she a'n't fit for her work."
"I'll go and see her," said Cynthia. "I don't believe she's strong enough
for a waitress, and I have got to tell her so."
"Well," returned Mrs. Durgin, glumly, after a moment's reflection, "I
shouldn't want you should hurry her. Wait till she's out of bed, and give
her another chance."
"All right."
Jeff had been lurking about for the event of the interview, and he
waylaid Cynthia on the path to the helps' house.
"I'm going over to see that youngest Miller girl," she explained.
"Yes, I know all about that," said Jeff. "Well, mother took it just
right, didn't she? You can't always count on her; but I hadn't much
anxiety in this case. She likes you, Cynthia."
"I guess so," said the girl, demurely; and she looked away from him to
smile her pleasure in the fact.
"But I believe if she hadn't known you were with her about my last year
in Harvard--it would have been different. I could see, when I brought it
in that you wanted me to go back, her mind was made up for you."
"Why need you say anything about that?"
"Oh, I knew it would clinch her. I understand mother. If you want
something from her you mustn't ask it straight out. You must propose
something very disagreeable. Then when she refuses that, you can come in
for what you were really after and get it."
"I don't know," said Cynthia, "as I should like to think that your mother
had been tricked into feeling right about me."
"Tricked!" The color flashed up in Jeff's face.
"Not that, Jeff," said the girl, tenderly. "But you know what I mean. I
hope you talked it all out fully with her."
"Fully? I don't know what you mean."
"About your not studying law, and--everything."
"I don't believe in crossing a river till I come to it," said Jeff. "I
didn't say anything to her about that."
"You didn't!"
"No. What had it got to do with our being engaged?"
"What had your going back to Harvard to do with it? If your mother thinks
I'm with her in that, she'll think I'm with her in the other. And I'm
not. I'm with you." She let her hand find his, as they walked side by
side, and gave it a little pressure.
"It's the greatest thing, Cynthy," he said, breathlessly, "to have you
with me in that. But, if you said I ought to study law, I should do it."
"I shouldn't say that, for I believe you're right; but even if I believed
you were wrong, I shouldn't say it. You have a right to make your life
what you want it; and your mother hasn't. Only she must know it, and you
must tell her at once."
"At once?"
"Yes--now. What good will it do to put it off? You're not afraid to tell
her!"
"I don't like you to use that word."
"And I don't like to use it. But I know how it is. You're afraid that the
brunt of it will come on ME. She'll think you're all right, but I'm all
wrong because I agree with you."
"Something like that."
"Well, now, I'm not afraid of anything she can say; and what could she
do? She can't part us, unless you let her, and then I should let her,
too."
"But what's the hurry? What's the need of doing it right off?"
"Because it's a deceit not to do it. It's a lie!"
"I don't see it in that light. I might change my mind, and still go on
and study law."
"You know you never will. Now, Jeff! Why do you act so?"
Jeff did not answer at once. He walked beside her with a face of trouble
that became one of resolve in the set jaws. "I guess you're right,
Cynthy. She's got to know the worst, and the sooner she knows it the
better."
"Yes!"
He had another moment of faltering. "You don't want I should talk it over
with Mr. Westover?"
"What has he got to do with it?"
"That's true!"
"If you want to see it in the right light, you can think you've let it
run on till after you're out of college, and then you've got to tell her.
Suppose she asked you how long you had made up your mind against the law,
how should you feel? And if she asked me whether I'd known it all along,
and I had to say I had, and that I'd supported and encouraged you in it,
how should I feel?"
"She mightn't ask any such question," said Jeff, gloomily. Cynthia gave a
little impatient "Oh!" and he hastened to add: "But you're right; I've
got to tell her. I'll tell her to-night--"
"Don't wait till to-night; do it now."
"Now?"
"Yes; and I'll go with you as soon as I've seen the youngest Miller
girl." They had reached the helps' house now, and Cynthia said: "You wait
outside here, and I'll go right back with you. Oh, I hope it isn't doing
wrong to put it off till I've seen that girl!" She disappeared through
the door, and Jeff waited by the steps outside, plucking up one long
grass stem after another and biting it in two. When Cynthia came out she
said: "I guess she'll be all right. Now come, and don't-lose another
second."
"You're afraid I sha'n't do it if I wait any longer!"
"I'm afraid I sha'n't." There was a silence after this.
"Do you know what I think of you, Cynthy?" asked Jeff, hurrying to keep
up with her quick steps. "You've got more courage--"
"Oh, don't praise me, or I shall break down!"
"I'll see that you don't break down," said Jeff, tenderly. "It's the
greatest thing to have you go with me!"
"Why, don't you SEE?" she lamented. "If you went alone, and told your
mother that I approved of it, you would look as if you were afraid, and
wanted to get behind me; and I'm not going to have that."
They found. Mrs. Durgin in the dark entry of the old farmhouse, and
Cynthia said, with involuntary imperiousness: "Come in here, Mrs. Durgin;
I want to tell you something."
She led the way to the old parlor, and she checked Mrs. Durgin's
question, "Has that Miller girl--"
"It isn't about her," said Cynthy, pushing the door to. "It's about me
and Jeff."
Mrs. Durgin became aware of Jeff's presence with an effect of surprise.
"There a'n't anything more, is there?"
"Yes, there is!" Cynthia shrilled. "Now, Jeff!"
"It's just this, mother: Cynthy thinks I ought to tell you--and she
thinks I ought to have told you last night--she expected me to--that I'm
not going to study law."
"And I approve of his not doing it," Cynthia promptly followed, and she
put herself beside Jeff where he stood in front of his mother's
rocking-chair.
She looked from one to the other of the faces before her. "I'm sorry a
son of mine," she said, with dignity, "had to be told how to act with his
mother. But, if he had, I don't know as anybody had a better right to do
it than the girl that's going to marry him. And I'll say this, Cynthia
Whitwell, before I say anything else: you've begun right. I wish I could
say Jeff had."
There was an uncomfortable moment before Cynthia said: "He expected to
tell you."
"Oh Yes! I know," said his mother, sadly. She added, sharply: "And did he
expect to tell me what he intended to do for a livin'?"