UNDER THE PINES WITH DICK.
Jerrie was soaked through, but she did not sprain her ankle as Ann Eliza
had done. And yet, had she been given her choice, rather than inflict
the pain she did inflict upon poor Dick, she would have chosen the
former unhesitatingly, and felt herself happy in doing it. Like Tom and
Ann Eliza, she and Dick had run when they saw how fast the storm was
coming, but it was of no use, for by the time they entered the park, the
shortest route to the cottage, the rain came down in torrents, and
drenched them to the skin in a few moments. Jerrie's hat was wrenched
off, as Ann Eliza's had been by the wind, which tossed her long golden
hair in a most fantastic fashion. But Dick put his hat upon her head,
and would have given her his coat had she allowed it.
'No, Dick,' she said, laughingly, as she saw him about to divest himself
of it. 'Keep your coat. I am wet enough without that. But what an awful
storm, and how dark it grows. We shall break our necks stumbling along
at this rate.'
Just then a broad glare of lightning illuminated the darkness, and
showed Dick the four pines close at hand. He knew the place well, for,
with the Tracy children, he had often played there when a boy, and knew
that the thick bushes would afford them some protection from the storm.
'By Jove, we are in luck!' he said. 'Here's the pine room, as we used to
call it when you played you were Marie Antoinette, and had your head cut
off. I can remember just how I felt when your white sun-bonnet, with
Mrs. Crawford's false hair pinned it in, dropped into the basket, and
how awful it seemed when you played dead so long that we almost thought
you were; and when you came to light, the way you imitated the cries of
a French mob, I would have sworn there were a hundred voices instead of
one yelling: "Down with the nobility!" You were a wonderful actress,
Jerrie; and it is a marvel you have not gone upon the stage.'
While he talked he was groping for the bench under the pines, where they
sat down, Dick seating himself upon the parasol, which Jerrie had left
there that morning after her interview with Tom.
'Hallo! what's this?' he said, drawing the parasol from under him. 'An
umbrella, as I live! We are in luck. What good fairy do you suppose left
it here for us?'
Jerrie could not tell him that she had left it there, and she said
nothing; while he opened and held it so that every drop of rain which
slipped from it fell upon her neck and trickled down her back. 'Great
Cæsar! that was a roarer!' Dick said, as the peal of thunder which had
so frightened Ann Eliza burst over their heads, and, echoing through the
woods, went bellowing off in the direction of the river, 'That's a
stunner! but I rather like it, and like being here, too, with you, if
you don't mind it. I've wanted a chance to speak to you alone, ever
since--well, ever since this morning, when I saw you in that bewildering
costume that showed your feet and your arms so--you know, with that
thing like a napkin pinned up in front, and that jimcrack on your head,
and the red stockings--and--and--'
Dick was getting bewildered and did not quite know what he was saying,
so he stopped and waited for Jerrie to reply. But Jerrie did not speak,
because of the sudden alarm which possessed her. She could not see
Dick's face, but in his voice she had recognized a tone heard in Tom's
that morning when she sat with him under pines as she was sitting now
with Dick and he had asked her to be his wife. Something told her that
Dick was feeling for her hands, which she resolutely put behind her out
of his way, and as he could not find them, he wound his arm around her
and held her fast, while he told her how much he loved her and wanted
her for his wife.
'I believe I have loved you,' he said, 'ever since the day I first saw
you at the inquest, and you flew so like a little cat at Peterkin when
he attacked Harold. I used to be awfully jealous of Hal, for fear he
would find in you more than a sister, but that was before he and Maude
got so thick together. I guess that's a sure thing, and it makes me bold
to tell you what I have. Why are you so silent Jerrie? Don't you love me
a little? That is all I ask at first, for I know I can make you love me
a great deal in time. I will be so kind and true to you. Jerrie, and
father, and mother, and Nina will be so glad. Speak to me, Jerrie, and
say you will try to love me, if you do not now.'
As he talked he had drawn the girl closer to him, where she sat rigid as
a stone, wholly unmindful of the little puddles of water--and they were
puddles now--running down her back, for Dick had tilted the parasol in
such a manner that one of the points rested upon the nape of her neck.
But she did not know it, or think of any thing except the pain she must
inflict upon the young man wooing her so differently from what Tom
Tracy had done. No hint had Dick given of the honor he was conferring
upon her, or of his own and his family's superiority to her family and
herself. All the honor and favor to be conferred were on her side; all
the love and humility on his, and for one brief moment the wild wish
flashed upon her:
'Oh, if I could love him as a wife ought, I might he so happy, for he is
all that is noble and good and true.'
But this was while she was smarting under the few words he had said of
Harold and Maude. He, too, believed it a settled thing between the
two--everybody believed it--and why should she waste her love upon one
who did not care for her as she did for him? Why not encourage a love
for Dick, who stood next in her heart to Harold? Questioning herself
thus until there flushed upon her the recollection of Harold's voice as
it had spoken to her that morning, and the look in his eyes when they
rested upon her, as he said good-bye, lingering a moment as if loth to
leave her, and then Dick's chance, if he had ever had any, was gone!
'I do not believe it,' she said to herself, and then, turning her face
to Dick she cried: 'Oh, Dick, I am so sorry you have said this to me;
sorry that you love me--in this way--for I can't--I can't--. I do love
you as a friend, a brother, next to Harold, but I cannot be your wife. I
cannot.'
For a moment there was perfect silence in the darkness, and then a lurid
flame of lightning showed the two faces--that of the man pale as ashes,
with a look of bitter pain upon it, and that of the woman, whiter than
the man's and bathed in upon which fell almost as fast as the rain drops
were falling tears, the pines.
Then Dick spoke, but his voice sounded strange and unnatural and a great
ways off:
'If I wait a long, long time--say a year, or two, or three--do you think
you could learn to love me just a little? I will not ask for much; only,
Jerrie, I do hunger so for you that without you life would seem a
blank.'
'No, Dick; not if you waited twenty years. I must still answer no. I
cannot love you as your wife should love you, and as some good, sweet
girl will one day love you when you have forgotten me.'
This is what Jerrie said to him, with much more, until he knew she was
in earnest and felt as if his heart were breaking.
'I shall never forget you, Jerrie,' he said, 'or cease to hope that you
will change your mind, unless--' and here he started so suddenly that
the wet parasol, down which streams of water were still coursing their
way to Jerrie's back, dropped from his hand and rolled off upon the bed
of fine needles at his feet, just where it had been in the morning when
Tom was there instead of himself--'unless there is some one between us,
some other man whom you love. I will not ask you the question, but I
believe I could bear it better if I knew it was because your love was
already given to another, and not because of anything in me.'
For a moment Jerrie was silent; then suddenly facing Dick, she laid her
hand on his and said:
'I can trust you, I am sure of that; there is some one between us--some
one whom I love. If I had never seen him, Dick, never known that he
lived--and if I had known you just as I do, I might not have answered
just as I have. I am very sorry.'
Dick did not ask her who his rival was, nor did Harold come to his mind,
so sure was he that an engagement existed between him and Maude.
Probably it was some one whom she had met while away at school; and if
so, Nina would know, and he would sound her cautiously, but never let
her know, if he could help it, the heart-wound he had received.
Poor Dick! every nerve was quivering with pain and disappointment when
at last, as the rain began to cease, he rose at Jerrie's suggestion, and
offering her his arm, walked silently and sadly with her to the door of
the cottage. Here for a moment they stood side by side and hand in hand,
until Jerrie said:
'Dick, your friendship has been very dear to me. I do not want to lose
it.'
'Nor shall you,' he answered; and winding his arms around her, he kissed
her lips, saying as he did so:
'That is the seal of our eternal friendship. The man you love would not
grudge me that one kiss, but perhaps you'd better tell him. Good-bye,
and God bless you. When I see you again I shall try to be the same Dick
you have always known.'
For a few moments Jerrie stood listening to the sound of his footsteps
as he went splashing through the wet grass and puddles of water; then,
kissing her hands to him, she whispered:
'Poor Dick! it would not be difficult to love you if I had never known
Harold.'
Opening the door softly, she found, as she had expected, that both her
grandmother and Harold had retired; and taking the lamp from the table
where it had been left for her, she stole quietly up to her room and
crept shivering into bed, more wretched than she had ever been before in
her life.