The way I met Whythe (he's the one I'm almost perfectly certain I am in
love with) was this. When I got to the station in Twickenham Town
there was no one to meet me and take me to Rose Hill, which is Miss
Susanna Mason's home and right far out, because the train was three
hours late, and Uncle Henry, who drives the hack, and Mr. Briggs, who
runs the automobile, had gone home. There wasn't even anybody to take
my bag. I told Mother I had written Miss Susanna what train I would be
on, and because she was so busy and Father away she trusted me to do
things she had never trusted me to do before and didn't write herself,
which is why I wasn't met. I did write the letter saying I was coming,
but I forgot to mail it and found it in my bag when I got off the train
and was looking for my trunk check. It was nearly eleven o'clock and
nobody around but some train people who looked at me and said nothing.
And then a young man who had got off the same train came up and took
off his hat and asked if he could not do something for me, and I told
him I hoped he could and I certainly would be obliged if he would do it
as quick as possible, as it was getting later every minute and Mother
would be terribly worried if she knew I hadn't been met.
"But where are you going?" he asked, and his eyes, which are his
best-looking part, took me in from top to toe. When I told him I was a
boarder for Miss Susanna Mason and would like to get to her house he
said if I didn't mind a pretty good walk he would take me there with
pleasure, and we started off. It was a perfectly gorgeous night. The
stars were as thick as buttercups in spring, and the moon was
magnificent and the air full of all sorts of old-fashioned fragrances,
as if honeysuckle and mignonette and tea-roses and heliotrope were all
mixed together; and as there didn't seem any real need of grieving
because there was no one to meet me, I thought I might as well enjoy
myself. I did. I could not help the train being late, and I didn't
forget to mail my letter on purpose; and it was an accident, or
coincidence, that a nice man should be on the same train I was, who
lived in the place I was going to spend the summer in, and knew very
well the house I wanted to get to. I didn't know he had been engaged
to the niece of the house and hadn't been to the latter since the
engagement was broken, and I must say as we walked along he didn't show
any evidences of despair or things of that sort. He couldn't possibly
have been naturaler or in better spirits, and he laughed from the time
we left the station until we reached Rose Hill. Not knowing his
history, I told him I had come to Twickenham Town because I thought it
was the most delicious old place in America; the sweetest, slowest,
self-satisfiedest, cocksuredest place on earth, and everybody in it was
a character--that is, everybody over thirty. He said that let him out,
as he was only twenty-five, but he wasn't sure some under twenty-five
were not somewhat queer. They are, I have found out since.
He had left his bag at the station, but he had mine, which was right
heavy, and seeing there was a good stretch of open road before we began
to go up the hill on the top of which was Miss Susanna's home, I told
him he had better sit down a minute and rest, and I got up on the worm
fence and twisted my feet around the rail below, and looked at him
before he knew what I was going to do. He coughed a little and looked
at his watch and said it was rather late to be resting, as Miss Susanna
might be going to bed, and that if I were not too tired he thought we
had better go on; and I told him all right. And then, because I
couldn't help it, I stood up on the top of the fence, balanced myself
on it, and, opening my arms as if I were going to fly, sprang off and
ran up the road ahead of him.
At the gate, which was open and through which I could see the
rose-bordered path leading up to the white-pillared porch on which Miss
Susanna and her niece were sitting, he shook hands with me and told me
good night and said he hoped he would see me very often while I was in
town, and I said I hoped he would. He put my bag down and told me to
send one of the servants out for it, and went on down the road, which I
thought was the queerest behavior I had ever seen in my life. I didn't
know, of course, about embarrassments and broken engagements and things
of that sort, and for a moment I stared at his back and then picked up
my bag and went up to the porch with it. All the boarders had gone to
bed and only Miss Susanna and her niece were on the porch, and as I
came up the steps they got up and stared at me as if I had risen from
the grave.
I hadn't thought there was anything wrong in my coming from the station
at that time of night with a strange man until I saw the look on Miss
Susanna's face when I told her I had done it. If I had been a brand
snatched from the burning I could not have been folded to her bosom
with more fervent thanksgiving or a more pained expression, and at
first, still not understanding, I thought I had done right off the
worst thing a person could do in Twickenham Town. I had walked a long
way with a man who didn't have ancestors, perhaps. He had seemed all
right to me, and I was awfully glad to have him, as otherwise I might
have had to sit on my suit-case all night, for I certainly couldn't
have come up with the man who swung a lantern, and he was the only
other white one in sight. But I found out later it wasn't lack of
ancestors that caused the sudden chill which fell over us when I
mentioned Mr. Eppes's name. It was something else and--oh, my
granny!--the look that pretty little pink-and-white person gave me when
I said what I had done!
"Oh, my dear, my dear!" Miss Susanna put her arms around me as if I
were a little ewe lamb that had been lost and was found, and in the
moonlight her beautiful little wrinkles reddened as if she were
responsible for a most grievous calamity, "To think of your being alone
at a public station at this time of night! A young girl! And I had
promised your mother to take such good care of you! I wouldn't have
had such a thing occur for--"
"There hasn't anything occurred." I took off my hat and fanned hard
and then followed Miss Susanna up-stairs into a big square room with a
big tester bed in it, and if she hadn't been looking at me I would have
climbed up in it and gone to sleep in my clothes, I was so tired; but
she didn't leave me for some time. She couldn't get over my walking
two miles with a strange man late at night, and presently I found out
she hoped I wouldn't mention it to any one in the town, as in a little
place--
"Oh, I know--" I sat down in another chair. "I know little places. I
was in one once for a month. Every one in it knew everything every
other person did and didn't do, and said and didn't say, and if they
sneezed what for, and if they didn't sneeze why not, and it was more
fun! But I won't tell if you don't want me to, and did my horse come?
Father had her sent three days ago, and I hope you won't get uneasy if
I am not always back on time--"
I stopped. She was putting my hat on the top shelf of the biggest old
mahogany wardrobe that was ever built for human apparel, and I knew
right off that was one of the things the matter with pretty Miss
Pink-and-White. She was spoiled to death. I picked up the coat I had
dropped on the table and hung it up myself, and saw I would have to be
the thing I hate most on earth--an Example. I must be careful or that
precious old soul would be waiting on me just as she waits on everybody
else, and I wasn't going to stand for it. And then she asked me if I
were not hungry--said she knew I must be after such a long trip; and I
told her I was starving, but I would not eat of a feast of the gods if
it were right in front of me, as the only thing I wanted to do was to
go to sleep, and for fear she might keep on inquiring about all my
relations I kissed her good night and walked with her to the door and
asked if she would mind if I did not come down to breakfast, and she
said of course I must not come, that Elizabeth never came if she had
been up late the night before, and that decided me. I was the first
one down the next morning.