Though Miss Jemima after this regarded the Major with renewed
suspicion, and confided to her niece that she did not feel at all safe
with him, the old gentleman was soon on the same terms with Rose that
he was on with Margaret herself. He informed her that he was just
twenty-five his "last grass," and that he never could, would, or should
grow a year older. He notified Jeff and his friend Mr. Lawrence at
the table that he regarded himself as a candidate for Miss Endicott's
hand, and had "staked" the ground, and he informed her that as soon as
he could bring himself to break an oath which he had made twenty years
before, never to address another woman, he intended to propose to her.
Rose, who had lingered at the table a moment behind the other ladies,
assured the old fellow that he need fear no rival, and that if he could
not muster courage to propose before she left, as it was leap-year, she
would exercise her prerogative and propose herself. The Major, with his
hand on his heart as he held the door open for her, vowed as Rose swept
past him her fine eyes dancing, and her face dimpling with fun, that he
was ready that moment to throw himself at her feet if it were not for
the difficulty of getting up from his knees.
A little later in the afternoon Margaret was down among the
rose-bushes, where Lawrence had joined her, after Rose had executed
that inexplicable feminine manoeuvre of denying herself to oppose a
lover's request.
Jeff was leaning against a pillar, pretending to talk to Rose, but
listening more to the snatches of song in Margaret's rich voice, or to
the laughter which floated up to them from the garden below.
Suddenly he said abruptly, "I believe that fellow Lawrence is in love
with Margaret."
Rose insisted on knowing what ground he had for so peculiar an opinion,
on which he incontinently charged his friend with being one of "those
fellows who falls in love with every pretty girl on whom he lays his
eyes," and declared that he had done nothing but hang around Margaret
ever since he had come to the county.
What Rose might have replied to this unexpected attack on one whom
she reserved for her own especial torture cannot be recorded, for the
Major suddenly appeared around the verandah. Both the young people
instinctively straightened up.
"Ah! you rascals! I catch you!" he cried, his face glowing with
jollity. "Jeff, you'd better look out,--honey catches a heap of flies,
and sticks mighty hard. Rose, don't show him any mercy,--kick him,
trample on him."
"I am not honey," said Rose, with a captivating look out of her bright
eyes.
"Yes, you are. If you are not you are the very rose from which it is
distilled."
"Oh, how charming!" cried the young lady. "How I wish some woman could
hear that said to me!"
"Don't give him credit before you hear all his proverb," said Jeff. "Do
you know what he said in the dining-room?"
"Don't credit _him_ at all," replied the Major. "Don't believe
him--don't listen to him. He is green with envy at my success." And the
old fellow shook with amusement.
"What did he say? Please tell me." She appealed to Jeff, and then as he
was about to speak, seeing the Major preparing to run, she caught him.
"No, you have to listen. Now tell me," to Jeff again.
"Well, he said honey caught lots of flies, and women lots of fools."
Rose fell back, and pointing her tapering finger at the Major, who,
with mock humility, was watching her closely, declared that she would
"never believe in him again." The old fellow met her with an unblushing
denial of ever having made such a statement or held such traitorous
sentiments, as it was, he maintained, a well established fact that
flies never eat honey at all.
From this moment the Major conceived the idea that Jeff had been
caught by his fair visitor. It had never occurred to him that any
one could aspire to Margaret's hand. He had thought at one time that
Jeff was in danger of falling a victim to the charms of the pretty
daughter of an old friend and neighbor of his, and though it appeared
rather a pity for a young fellow to fall in love "out of the State,"
yet the claims of hospitality, combined with the fact that rivalry
with Mr. Lawrence, against whom, on account of his foppishness, he had
conceived some prejudice, promised a delightful excitement, more than
counterbalanced that objectionable feature. He therefore immediately
constituted himself Jeff's ardent champion, and always spoke of the
latter's guest as "that fellow Lawrence."
Accordingly, when, one afternoon, on his return from his ride, he
found Jeff, who had ridden over to tea, lounging around alone, in a
state of mind as miserable as a man should be who, having come with
the expectation of basking in the sunshine of Beauty's smile, finds
that Beauty is out horseback riding with a rival, he was impelled to
give him aid, countenance, and advice. He immediately attacked him,
therefore, on his forlorn and woebegone expression, and declared that
at his age he would have long ago run the game to earth, and have
carried her home across his saddle-bow.
"You are afraid, sir--afraid," he asserted, hotly. "I don't know what
you fellows are coming to."
Jeff admitted the accusation. "He feared," he said, "that he could not
get a girl to have him." He was looking rather red when the Major cut
him short.
"'Fear,' sir! Fear catches kicks, not kisses. 'Not _get_ a girl to have
you!' Well, upon my soul! Why don't you run after her and bawl like a
baby for her to stop, whilst you get down on your knees and--_get_ her
to have you!"
Jeff was too dejected to be stung even by this unexpected attack. He
merely said, dolorously:
"Well, how the deuce can it be done?"
"_Make_ her, sir--_make_ her," cried the Major. "Coerce her--compel
her." The old fellow was in his element. He shook his grizzled head,
and brought his hollowed hands together with sounding emphasis.
Jeff suggested that perhaps she might be impregnable, but the old
fellow affirmed that no woman was this; that no fortress was too strong
to be carried; that it all depended on the assailant and the vehemence
of the assault; and if one did not succeed, another would. The young
man brightened. His mentor, however, dashed his rising hopes by saying:
"But mark this, sir, no coward can succeed. Women are rank cowards
themselves, and they demand courage in their conquerors. Do you think a
woman will marry a man who trembles before her? By Jove, sir! He must
make her tremble!"
Jeff admitted dubiously that this sounded like wisdom. The Major burst
out, "Wisdom, sir! It is the wisdom of Solomon, who had a thousand
wives!"
From this time the Major constituted himself Jeff's ally, and was ready
to take the field on his behalf against any and all comers. Therefore,
when he came into the hall one day when Rose was at the piano, running
her fingers idly over the keys, whilst Lawrence was leaning over her
talking, he exclaimed:
"Hello! what treason's this? I'll tell Jeff. He was consulting me only
yesterday about--"
Lawrence muttered an objurgation; but Rose wheeled around on the
piano-stool and faced him.
--"Only yesterday about the best mode of winning--" He stopped
tantalizingly.
"Of winning what? I am so interested." She rose and stood just before
him with a cajoling air. The Major shut his mouth tight.
"I'm as dumb as an oyster. Do you think I would betray my friend's
confidence--for nothing? I'm as silent as the oracle of Delphi."
Lawrence looked anxious, and Rose followed the old man closely.
"I'll pay you anything."
"I demand payment in coin that buys youth from age." He touched his
lips, and catching Rose leaned slowly forward and kissed her.
"Now, tell me--what did he say? A bargain's a bargain," she laughed as
Lawrence almost ground his teeth.
"Well, he said,--he said, let me see, what did he say?" paltered the
Major. "He said he could not get a girl he loved to have him."
"Oh! did he say _that_?" She was so much interested that she just knew
that Lawrence half stamped his foot.
"Yes, he said just that, and I told him--"
"Well,--what did you say?"
"Oh! I did not bargain to tell what _I_ told _him_. I received payment
only for betraying his confidence. If you drive a bargain I will drive
one also."
Rose declared that he was the greatest old screw she ever knew, but she
paid the price, and waited.
"Well?--"
"'Well?' Of course, I told him 'well.' I gave him the best advice a man
ever received. A lawyer would have charged him five hundred dollars for
it. I'm an oracle on heart-capture."
Rose laughingly declared she would have to consult him herself,
and when the Major told her to consult only her mirror, gave him a
courtesy and wished he would teach some young men of her acquaintance
to make such speeches. The old fellow vowed, however, that they were
unteachable; that he would as soon expect to teach young moles.