At the Age of Eve Part 18

"No. He said you were not to disturb yourself at all," I answered, and he looked up quickly as he deposited his collar on the dressing-table.

"So? He came to see you?"

"That's what he says. He may later swear it by the inconstant moon.

She is so beautiful to-night, that you can forgive her for being inconstant." I rattled away to hide my trembling joy, brought on by the antic.i.p.ation of two hours alone with _him_.

But Rufe's eyes were grave.

"Ann, don't lose your head over Chalmers," he said soberly, with that queer density with which a married man usually regards a love affair.

(Oh, stupid Rufe! My head has been lost so long that I have grown delightfully accustomed to doing without it!) "He is a good fellow, and all that, but I don't know that he's good enough for you."

"Ann!" It was Cousin Eunice's voice calling weakly from the darkened room beyond. I went to her bed.

"Ann, is that Richard Chalmers down-stairs?"

"Yes."

"And Rufe isn't going down?"

"No."

"Well, listen, dear: he may propose to you to-night--I have seen that he was only waiting to get a good chance--but _don't_ promise him anything! Until we know him better, dear!"

I patted her hand softly, then ran into my own room to get a fan that I might have something to toy with. There was a bottle of rich perfume on my table, my favorite lily-of-the-valley, and I drew the long gla.s.s stopper across my lips. Then I went to the window and looked out at the white light of the moon.

"Not promise him anything!" I said half aloud, the beauty of the night drawing a sigh of longing that was almost a sob. "Oh, don't they _know_ that I would promise him my very soul if he should ask it?"

Richard was restlessly walking up and down the length of the long room when I came down again. He crossed to meet me and held out his hand, catching mine in his strong grip, just as if we had not shaken hands only a short time before. "So I am going to have you all to myself to-night?"

"Rufe said he would stay with his ailing family, if you would put up with my society."

"Ah! Don't you believe that I came just to see you? I was afraid that I should not be able to get a moment alone, so I was going to ask Mrs.

Clayborne, as a great favor, to let me take you to the theater--or anywhere else that you preferred. I have tickets here to the Lyceum, and there is a taxi-cab at the door. Shall we go?"

"Let's stay here," I begged. "It has been an awfully tiresome day. Go and dismiss the cab."

He looked gratified at my decision, then went out to send the cab away. I glanced at the bower of a room and felt a thrill of satisfaction. It was all so beautiful, and I love beauty.

"Shall I close these doors?" he asked carelessly, as he came in again and I heard the chug-chug of the cab as it sped away. "Shall I close these doors? It is really chilly to-night."

"Yes, I noticed," I said in some confusion, for I remembered that the closing of a door had meant a great deal to Alfred a few days ago. Ann Lisbeth had closed it, because she knew that he wanted her to; and he had looked to see before he had said a word. Evidently it is a way with lovers!

"I noticed that it is cold," I repeated, as he came over and stood near me without speaking. "My hands are quite cold."

I recognized the absurdity of this as soon as the silly words were out of my mouth, and I tried to think of something else to say quickly enough to cover my shamefaced silence, but nothing would come to my aid, and I had finally to meet his compelling eyes with a frankly embarra.s.sed little laugh.

"Let me draw your chair back from the fire," he said, after we looked straight into each other's eyes for a moment, "or, better still, throw something around you and let's go out on the little side balcony where Clayborne and I always go to smoke. It is a glorious night."

I went out into the hall and got a long, loose wrap. As he held it for me to slip my arms into the sleeves his eyes traveled slowly over the crisp freshness of the linen gown I wore. My back was to him, but I was watching him in the mirror.

"I have a worshipful reverence for virginity," he said at length, "even if it be only of a white linen suit. I have always wanted the first and best of everything. It is this entirely fresh and unspoiled quality of your beauty that has so attracted me."

We were walking out through the long French window which opens on to the balcony, and as we gained the shadow of a thick growth of vines at one side he stopped, putting up his arm to stop me.

"Ann," he said, with the same sudden directness that had startled me that day in the orchard when he had asked me about our first meeting, "Ann, you have seen that--I am attracted? Dear, I don't want to frighten you, you beautiful little _young_ thing," here he lost his self-possession, "but I love you, sweetheart--love only you--love you--_you_!"

His arms slipped about me, and tightening their clasp after a moment, he drew me very close, so close that his perfect face closed everything else on earth from my view. And his keen gray eyes became two points of steel that pierced through, straight to my soul, and carried with them a sweet potion that inoculated my being with adoration for him.

I felt his cheek brush close to mine, his thin, cold face transfigured; and, as if to prolong the exquisite torture of suspense, we both held apart a moment before our lips met full. Then--

I was so swept by the storm of strange and wonderful emotion that my senses failed to take it in at first--that Richard Chalmers was mine!

He loved me; he was feeling the same joy and the same torture that were running like fire and wine to my brain. Even in the dim light my eyes must have betrayed some of this bewilderment to him, if his own thoughts had not been equally in a tumult.

"You are _sure_?" he questioned, after his pa.s.sionate breath had slackened a little so that he could speak. "Ann, this means everything to me. Don't let me kiss you like that again unless you are very sure of your own mind."

--But he kissed me again, and kissed--and kissed until his lips grew cold, and I felt suddenly so tired that I could stand up no longer.

Oh, divine rapture of senses and soul! Could I forget that kiss in the hour of death? I wished that death might come then, as we stood together in that first pa.s.sionate embrace, our lips meeting in kisses of fire, our hearts throbbing in physical pain. Oh, to die thus--together! So perfect was the moment--so supreme the joy!

My head fell over, with a little droop of utter weariness upon his shoulder, and his arms loosened.

"You are tired," he said, in quick contrition, turning my face up to the moonlight. "Shall we go back into the house? I'm a brute to treat you this way!"

We pa.s.sed in through the long window and walked over to the far corner, where the big leather chair is. I sat down, lost in its ample depths. Then he stood up in front of me and looked down with the calmly contented expression of one who is greatly pleased over a new possession.

"You beautiful little _young_ thing," he said again.

"Young?" I felt so secure, so happy, when discussing the question of age with him now.

"That is all I'm afraid of! You may grow tired of me."

"You are afraid of nothing, Coeur de Lion," I answered with an adoring look that brought on another avalanche of caresses. "I have always called you that."

"Always? Since when?"

"Since that day at the gates of the cemetery."

"Ah! And I have never ceased for an hour to think of you since that day--and to wonder how I could make you love me."

"When all the time you were the man of my dreams. Your face told me that when I first saw you--cold as steel to all the world, yet strong as steel for me."

"You have never imagined yourself in love before, Ann?" he asked, after a little silence which he beguiled by raising each finger-tip of my left hand to his lips.

"No."

"I thought not. A woman doesn't kiss like that but once."

"--And a man?"