For two days more the vast machinery of the United States mail swung
back and forth across the continent and the oceans beyond, and in
unnumbered cities and towns the letter-carriers came and went; but
nothing they brought into Bienville or Royal Street bore tidings from
that execrable editor in New York who in salaried ease sat "holding up"
the manuscript once the impressionable Dora's, now the gentle Aline's.
The holiday--"everything shut up"--had arrived. No carrier was abroad.
Neither reason given for the joy-ride held good. Yet the project was
well on foot. The smaller car was at the De l'Isles' lovely gates,
with monsieur in the chauffeur's seat, Mme. Alexandre at his side, and
Dubroca close behind her. The larger machine stood at the opposite
curb, with Beloiseau for driver, and Mme. Dubroca--a very small, trim,
well-coiffed woman with a dainty lorgnette--in the first seat behind
him. Castanado waited in the street door at the foot of his stair,
down which Mme. Castanado was coming the only way she could come.
Her crossing of the sidewalk and her elevation first to the
running-board and then to a seat beside Mme. Dubroca took time and the
strength of both men, yet was achieved with a dignity hardly
appreciated by the street children, who covered their mouths, averted
their faces, and cheered as the two cars, the smaller leading, moved
off and turned from Royal Street into Conti on their way to pick up the
three Chapdelaines.
For nearly two hundred years--ever since the city had had a
post-office--the post-office had been not too superior to remain in the
_vieux carré_. Now, like so many old Creole homes themselves, it was
"away up" in the American quarter--or "nine-tenth'"--at Lafayette
Square. On holidays any one anxious enough for his mail to go "away up
yondah" between nine and ten A.M., could have it for the asking. And
such a one was Chester.
He had his reward. Twice and again he read the magazine's name on the
envelope as he bore it to the Camp Street front of the building, but
would not open the missive. That should be _her_ privilege and honor.
He lifted his eyes from it and behold, here came the two cars! But
where was she? Certainly not in the front one. There he made out, in
pairs, M. De l'Isle and Mme. Alexandre. Mlle. Yvonne and M. Dubroca,
M. Castanado, and Mme. De l'Isle. Then in the rear car his alarmed eye
picked out Beloiseau and Mlle. Corinne, with Cupid between them; Mmes.
Dubroca and Castanado, especially the latter; and then, oh, then!
Behind the smaller woman a vacant seat and behind the vaster one Aline
Chapdelaine.
"You've heard?" cried M. De Elsie, slowing to the curb. Chester
fluttered his prize. "Click, clap!"--he was in without the stopping of
a wheel and had passed the letter to Aline.
"Accepted?" asked several, while both cars resumed their speed up-town.
"We'll open it in Audubon Park," she said to Chester, and Mme.
Castanado and Dubroca passed the word forward to Beloiseau and Mlle.
Corinne. These soon got it to Castanado and Mme. De l'Isle.
"Not to be open' till Audubon Park," sped the word still forward till
Mlle. Yvonne and Dubroca had passed it to Mme. Alexandre and M. De
l'Isle.
"Ahah!" he said, as he turned Lee Circle and went spinning up St.
Charles Avenue. "Not in the pewblic street, but in Audubon Park, and
to the singing of bird'!"