"NOT EVEN HUGH JOHN!"
"To Elizabeth--Elizabeth Fortinbras!" I cried. Here was a new
difficulty. If only people would not do things in a hurry, as Hugh John
says, they would mostly end by not doing them at all!
"What sort of a girl is this Elizabeth Fortinbras?" Cissy Carter asked.
"She is only a shop-girl after all, isn't she?"
I set Cissy right on this head. There were shop-girls _and_ shop-girls.
And this one not only came of a respectable ancestry, but had been well
educated, was the heiress of Erin Villa, and would succeed to one of the
best businesses in Edam!
"Is she pretty?"
Oh, of course I had foreseen the question. It was quite inevitable, and
there was but one thing to say--
"Come to the shop and see for yourself!"
But Cissy hung back. You see, she had done a perfectly mad thing,
and yet was not quite ready to make it up with the person
concerned--especially when Cissy was Colonel Davenant Carter's only
daughter just home from Paris, and when, in spite of my explanations,
Elizabeth was little more to her than a "girl behind a counter"!
You may be sure that I put her duty before her--yes, plainly and with
point. But Cissy had in her all the pride of the Davenant Carters, and
go she would not, till I told her plump and plain that she was afraid!
My, how that made her jump! She turned a little pale, rose quietly,
adjusted her hat at the mirror, took off her watch-bracelet and gave it
to me to keep for her.
"I will go and see this Elizabeth Fortinbras now--and alone!" she said,
with that nice quiet dignity which became her so well. I would greatly
have liked to have gone along with her. But, first of all, she had not
asked me, and, secondly, I knew that I had better not.
Cissy Carter had to see Elizabeth alone. Only they could arrange
matters. Still, of course, both of them told me all about it afterwards,
and it is from these two narratives that the following short account is
written out.
Elizabeth was in the front shop, busy as a bee among the sweet things,
white-aproned, and wearing dainty white armlets of linen which came from
the wrist to above the elbow. Then these two looked at each other as
only girls do--or perhaps more exactly, attractive young women of about
the same age. Boys are different--they behave just like strange dogs on
being introduced, sulky and ready to snarl. A young man seems to be
wondering how such a contemptible fellow as that other fellow could
possibly have gained admittance to a respectable house. Only experienced
women can manage the business properly, putting just the proper amount
of cordiality into the bow and handshake. Grown men--most of them, that
is--allow their natural feeling of boredom to appear too obviously.
At any rate Cissy and Elizabeth took in each other at a glance, far more
searching and exhaustive as to "points" than ever any man's could be.
Then they bowed to each other very coldly.
"Will you come this way?" said Elizabeth, instantly discerning that
Cissy had not come to New Erin Villa as a customer. Accordingly she led
the way into the little sitting-room, all in pale creamy _cretonne_ with
old-fashioned roses scattered upon it, which her own taste and the full
purse of Ex-Butcher Donnan had provided for her.
"Be good enough to take a seat," said Elizabeth Fortinbras. But she
herself remained standing.
Now you never can tell by which end a girl--or a woman, for that
matter--will tackle anything. All that you can be sure of is that it
will not be the obvious and natural one--the one nearest her hand. So
Cissy, instead of coming right out with her confession and having done
with it, began by asking Elizabeth if she knew a Mr. Hugh John Picton
Smith.
"He is my friend!" said Elizabeth, very quiet and grave, standing with
one hand in the pocket of her apron and the other hanging easily by her
side.
"And nothing more?" said Cissy, looking up at her very straight.
"I must first know by what right you ask me that question!" said
Elizabeth. And then, her lips quivering (I know exactly how) a long
minute between pride and pitifulness, Cissy did the best thing in the
world she could have done to soften Elizabeth Fortinbras. She struggled
an instant with herself. Her pride gave way exactly as it had with me,
and she began to sob quietly and continuously.
Elizabeth took one step towards her. Presently her cool, strong arms
were about Cissy's neck, who struggled a second or two like a captive
bird, and then the next Elizabeth was soothing her like an elder sister.
"Yes, dear, I know--I know! You did a foolish thing. But then it was to
me. I understood! I understand! It does not matter! No one else need
know!"
Then, in a voice quiet as the falling of summer rain among the misty
isles of the West, Elizabeth added, "_Not even Hugh John!_"