Lavender and Old Lace Part 10

He made two or three observations, to which Ruth paid no attention.

"My Lady Disdain," he said, with a.s.sumed anxiety, "don't you think we'd better go on? I don't know what time the tide comes in, and I never could look your aunt in the face if I had drowned her only relative."

"Very well," she replied carelessly, "let's go around the other way."

They followed the beach until they came to the other side of the hill, but found no path leading back to civilisation, though the ascent could easily be made.

"People have been here before," he said; "here are some initials cut into this stone. What are they? I can't see."

Ruth stooped to look at the granite boulder he indicated. "J. H.," she answered, "and J. B."

"It's incomplete," he objected; "there should be a heart with an arrow run through it."

"You can fix it to suit yourself," Ruth returned, coolly, "I don't think anybody will mind." She did not hear his reply, for it suddenly dawned upon her that "J. H." meant Jane Hathaway.

They stood there in the twilight for some little time, watching the changing colours on the horizon and then there was a faint glow on the water from the cliff above. Ruth went out far enough to see that Hepsey had placed the lamp in the attic window.

"It's time to go," she said, "inasmuch as we have to go back the way we came."

They crossed to the other side and went back through the woods. It was dusk, and they walked rapidly until they came to the log across the path.

"So your friend isn't crazy," he said tentatively, as he tried to a.s.sist her over it.

"That depends," she replied, drawing away from him; "you're indefinite."

"Forgot to wet the rag, didn't we?" he asked. "I will gladly a.s.sume the implication, however, if I may be your friend."

"Kind, I'm sure," she answered, with distant politeness.

The path widened, and he walked by her side. "Have you noticed, Miss Thorne, that we have trouble every time we approach that seemingly innocent barrier? I think it would be better to keep away from it, don't you?"

"Perhaps."

"What initials were those on the boulder? J. H. and--"

"J. B."

"I thought so. 'J. B.' must have had a lot of spare time at his disposal, for his initials are cut into the 'Widder' Pendleton's gate post on the inner side, and into an apple tree in the back yard."

"How interesting!"

"Did you know Joe and Hepsey were going out to-night?"

"No, I didn't--they're not my intimate friends."

"I don't see how Joe expects to marry on the income derived from the village chariot."

"Have they got that far?"

"I don't know," replied Winfield, with the air of one imparting a confidence. "You see, though I have been in this peaceful village for some little time, I have not yet arrived at the fine distinction between 'walking out, 'settin' up,' and 'stiddy comp'ny.' I should infer that 'walking out' came first, for 'settin' up' must take a great deal more courage, but even 1, with my vast intellect, cannot at present understand 'stiddy comp'ny.'"

"Joe takes her out every Sunday in the carriage," volunteered Ruth, when the silence became awkward.

"In the what?"

"Carriage--haven't you ridden in it?"

"I have ridden in them, but not in it. I walked to the 'Widder's,' but if it is the conveyance used by travellers, they are both 'walking out'

and 'settin' up.'"

They paused at the gate. "Thank you for a pleasant afternoon," said Winfield. "I don't have many of them."

"You're welcome," returned Ruth, conveying the impression of great distance.

Winfield sighed, then made a last desperate attempt. "Miss Thorne," he said, pleadingly, "please don't be unkind to me. You have my reason in your hands. I can see myself now, sitting on the floor, at one end of the dangerous ward. They'll smear my fingers with mola.s.ses and give me half a dozen feathers to play with. You'll come to visit the asylum, sometime, when you're looking for a special, and at first, you won't recognise me. Then I'll say: 'Woman, behold your work,' and you'll be miserable all the rest of your life."

She laughed heartily at the distressing picture, and the plaintive tone of his voice pierced her armour. "What's the matter with you?" she asked.

"I don't know--I suppose it's my eyes. I'm horribly restless and discontented, and it isn't my way."

Then Ruth remembered her own restless weeks, which seemed so long ago, and her heart stirred with womanly sympathy. "I know," she said, in a different tone, "I've felt the same way myself, almost ever since I've been here, until this very afternoon. You're tired and nervous, and you haven't anything to do, but you'll get over it."

"I hope you're right. I've been getting Joe to read the papers to me, at a quarter a sitting, but his p.r.o.nunciation is so unfamiliar that it's hard to get the drift, and the whole thing exasperated me so that I had to give it up."

"Let me read the papers to you," she said, impulsively, "I haven't seen one for a month."

There was a long silence. "I don't want to impose upon you," he answered--"no, you mustn't do it."

Ruth saw a stubborn pride that shrank from the slightest dependence, a self-reliance that would not falter, but would steadfastly hold aloof, and she knew that in one thing, at least, they were kindred.

"Let me," she cried, eagerly; "I'll give you my eyes for a little while!"

Winfield caught her hand and held it for a moment, fully understanding.

Ruth's eyes looked up into his--deep, dark, dangerously appealing, and alight with generous desire.

His fingers unclasped slowly. "Yes, I will," he said, strangely moved.

"It's a beautiful gift--in more ways than one. You are very kind--thank you--good night!"

VII. The Man Who Hesitates

"Isn't fair'," said Winfield to himself, miserably, "no sir, 't isn't fair!"

He sat on the narrow piazza which belonged to Mrs. Pendleton's brown house, and took stern account of his inner self. The morning paper lay beside him, unopened, though his fingers itched to tear the wrapper, and his hat was pulled far down over his eyes, to shade them from the sun.

"If I go up there I'm going to fall in love with her, and I know it!"