John March, Southerner Part 17

Fannie held the rose.

"Thank you," said John, looking from it to the kindness in her eye. But she caressed the flower and shook her head.

"It's got thorns," she said, significantly, as she sat down on a step.

"Yes, I understand. I'll take it so."

"I don't know. I'm afraid you'll not want it when"--she laid it to her lips--"when I tell you how you've disappointed me."

"Yes, I will. For--oh! Miss Fannie----"

"What, John?"

"You needn't tell me at all. I know it already. And I'm going to change it. You shan't be disappointed. I've learned an awful lot in these last three days--and these last three hours. I've done my last sentimentalizing. I--I'm sure I have. I'll be too good for it, or else too bad for it! I'll always love you, Miss Fannie, even when you're not--Miss Fannie any more; but I'll never come using round you and bothering you with my--feelings." He jerked out his handkerchief, but wiped only his cap--with slow care.

"As to that, John, I shouldn't blame you if you should hate me."

"I can't, Miss Fannie. I've not done hating, I'm afraid, but I couldn't hate you--ever. You can't conceive how sweet and good you seem to anyone as wicked as I've been--and still am."

"You don't know what I mean, John."

"Yes, I do. But you didn't know how bad you were f-fooling me. And even if you had of--it must be mighty hard for some young ladies not to--to----"

"Flirt," said Fannie, looking down on her rose. "I reckon those who do it find it the easiest and prettiest wickedness in the world, don't they?"

"Oh, I don't know! All my wickedness is ugly and hard. But I'm glad you expected enough of me to be disappointed."

"Yes, I did. Why, John, you never in your life offered me a sign of regard but I felt it an honor. You've often tripped and stumbled, but I--oh, I'm too bad myself to like a perfect boy. What I like is a boy with a conscience."

"My guiding star!" murmured John.

"Oh! ridiculous!--No, I take that back! But--but--why, that's what disappoints me! If you'd made me just your first mile-board. But it hurts me--oh, it hurts me! and--far worse--it's hurting Cousin Rose Garnet! to--now, don't flush up that way--to see John March living by pa.s.sion and not by principle!"

"H--oh! Miss Fannie!" He strained up a superior smile. "Is pa.s.sion--are pa.s.sions bound to be ign.o.ble? But you're making the usual mistake----"

"How, John?" She put on a condescending patience.

"Why, in fancying you women can guide a man by----"

"Preaching?" the girl interrupted. Her face had changed. "I know we can't," she added, abstractedly. John was trying to push his advantage.

"Pa.s.sion!" he exclaimed. "Pa.s.sion? Miss Fannie, you look at life with a woman's view! We men--what are we without pa.s.sion--all the pa.s.sions?

Furnaces without fire! Ships without sails!"

"True! John. And just as true for women. But without principles we're ships without rudders. Pa.s.sion ought to fill our sails, yes; but if principles don't steer we're lost!"

"Now, are you not making yourself my guiding star?"

"No! I won't have the awful responsibility! I'm nothing but a misguided girl. Guiding star! Oh, fancy calling me that when your dear old----"

"Do--o--on't!"

"Then take it back and be a guiding star yourself! See here! D'you remember the day at the tournament when you were my knight? John March, can you believe it? I! me! this girl! Fannie Halliday! member of the choir! I prayed for you that day. I did, for a fact! I prayed you might come to be one of the few who are the knights of all mankind; and here you--John, if I had a thousand gold dollars I'd rather lose them in the sea than have you do what you're this day----"

"Miss Fannie, stop; I'm not doing it. It's not going to be done. But oh!

if you knew what spurred me on--I can't expl----"

"You needn't. I've known all about it for years! I got it from the girls who put you to bed that night. But no one else knows it and they'll never tell. John," Fannie pushed her gaiter's tip with her parasol, "guess who was here all last evening, smoking the pipe of peace with pop."

"Jeff-Jack?"

"I mean besides him. Brother Garnet! John, what is that man mostly, fox or goose?"

"Oh, now, Miss Fannie, you're unjust! You're--you're partisan!"

"Hmm! That's what pop called me. He says Major Garnet means well, only he's a moss-back. Sakes alive! That's worse than fox and goose in one!"

Her eyes danced merrily. "Why, that man's still in the siege of Vicksburg, feeding Rosemont and Suez with its mule meat, John."

"Miss Fannie, it's my benefactor you're speaking of."

"Aw! your grandmother! Look here. Why'd he bring Mr. Ravenel here--for Mr. Ravenel didn't bring him--to pow-wow with pop? Of course he had some purpose--some plan. It's only you that's all sympathies--no plans."

"Why, it's not an hour," cried John, rising, "since Jeff-Jack told me he wasn't a man of plans, other men's plans were good enough for him!"

Fannie's mouth opened and her eyes widened with merriment.

"Oh--oh--mm--mm--mm." She looked up at the sky and then sidewise at the youth. "Sit down, sit down; you need the rest! Oh!" She rounded her mouth and laughed.

"Now, see here, John March, you've no right to make me behave so.

Listen! I have a sneaking notion that, with some reference to your mountain lands, Brother Garnet--whom, I declare, John, I wouldn't speak to if it wasn't for Cousin Rose--has for years built you into his plans, including those he brought here last night. In a few days you'll at last be through Rosemont; but I believe he'd be glad to see you live for years yet on loves, hates, and borrowed money. Oh! for your father's sake, don't please that man that way! Why can't you plan? Why don't you guide? You plan fast enough when pa.s.sion controls you; plan with your pa.s.sions under your control. Build men--_build him_--into your plans.

Why, John, owning as much of G.o.d's earth as you do, you're honor bound to plan."

"I know it, Miss Fannie. I've been feeling it a long time; now I see it." He started to catch up the rose she had dropped, but the laugh was hers; her foot was on it.

"You--don't you dare, sir! John, there's my foot's sermon. D'you see?

Everybody should put his own rose and thorn, both alike, under his own foot. Shod or unshod, sir, we all have to do it. Now, why can't you bring Mr. Ravenel to see pop with a plan of your own? I believe--of course I don't know, but I suspect--Brother Garnet has left something out of his plan that you can take into yours and make yours win. Would you like to see it?" She patted her lips with her parasol handle and smiled bewitchingly.

"Would I--what do you mean, Miss Fannie?"

"Why, I've got it here in the house. It's a secret, but"--lips and parasol again, eyes wickeder than ever--"it's something that you can see and touch. Promise you'll never tell, never-never-never?"

He promised.

"Wait here." She ran into the house, trolling a song. As John sat listening for her return, the thought came abruptly, "Hasn't Jeff-Jack got something to do with this?" But there was scarcely time to resent it when she reopened the door coyly, beckoned him in, pa.s.sed out, and closed it; and, watchworn, wasted, more dead than alive, there stood before John the thing Garnet was omitting--Cornelius Leggett.

When John pa.s.sed out again Fannie saw purpose in his face and smiled.

"Well?--Can you build him in?--into your plans?"

The youth stared unintelligently. She laughed at him.