Mavis of Green Hill Part 17

Yours very sincerely, WILLIAM DENTON

I must confess, Diary, to a seizure of acute curiosity. Weakly, I bade Adeline tell her master to wait on me at four, and sending for Sarah ordered extra tea with which to placate the savage appet.i.te of my self-bidden guest. We had tea out-of-doors, for October has come in like a spring day, warm and clear and beautiful. I was in my hammock, whither Sarah and Father had conveyed me at three, just before Father's train left Green Hill, and had therefore an hour of speculation. And it was not without a certain thrill of excitement that I saw a tall, lean figure swing across the lawn towards me, and appropriate the low chair beside me and the tea table.

"Good afternoon," I said politely.

"Good afternoon," he answered, "it was nice of you to let me come."

Wiggles, a sixth doggie sense telling him I had a caller, came racing across to us from the kitchen garden, where I have no doubt he had been destructively employed, and greeted the Doctor with an exaggerated display of cordiality. When he was disposed of finally, under my visitor's chair, "Lovely day," I proffered, one hand concealing a tiny yawn.

"Lovely!" agreed Dr. Denton, enthusiastically.

Conversation languished. Died.

Finally, the silence becoming quite unbearable, I stole a look at the enemy. His lips were pursed in a noiseless whistle, his hands were informally in his pocket, and his eyes were dancing. It is disconcerting that I should have to acknowledge his extreme good looks. I never did care much for good-looking men, anyway. They're so disgustingly conceited. And Dr. Denton possesses an almost spectacular combination of features, coloring, and build.

"Did you speak?" he asked gently.

"I did not!" said I, with emphasis.

"Don't shoot," begged the Unwelcome One. "I'll come down. Or," he asked anxiously, "can you see the whites of my eyes?"

I laughed. I couldn't help it. The situation was so perfectly ridiculous. And so, we laughed together.

Sarah, beaming, appeared with tea and cookies and cake.

"Please pour," I said to Dr. Denton, "and please have some of your own cake. Thank you," I added carefully, "for sending it to us."

"Oh, I didn't send it," he answered cheerfully, manipulating china and silver with dexterity. "It was Adeline's thought. Merely, she asked my permission."

"Oh!" I said, in a small voice, and accepted a cup of tea.

Dr. Denton fed Wiggles cake, and engaged him in loud conversation.

I scalded my throat on tea, and promptly dropped the cup. This, at least, created some diversion. Dr. Denton sprang up, scattering Wiggles, cups, napkins, and spoons with equal indifference, and mopped up the deluge.

"Did you hurt yourself?" he asked, in quite an agonized tone.

"No," I replied, dripping, "but I have burned my throat most awfully.

I'm afraid I shan't be able to talk for quite a while."

"May I see?" spoke the physician, with solicitude.

I put out my tongue very soberly.

Dr. Denton returned hastily to his chair.

"You spoke," I suggested, "in your note, of messages."

"Did I?" he returned, in a puzzled tone. "It must be my handwriting.

No doctor writes intelligibly."

This was really too much. I beat with my fist upon the unoffending hammock, and asked, "Has your friend...?"

"Gone? Yes, very unfortunately. He had, as I reminded him, a pressing engagement in town. I, myself, took him to the train," concluded the aggravating creature proudly.

"How nice of you," I said heartily, "but you must miss him."

"Intolerably."

The duologue showed symptoms of declining again.

Finally,

"Did you want to see me?" I asked courteously.

"Not particularly," he replied, "but under the white flag, as I suggested, I wanted to make a partial treaty with you, with, of course, your consent."

"I am listening," I said cautiously.

Suddenly he moved his chair nearer, crossed his legs, and lay back, hands locked across his knees.

"Look here," he said, "isn't it time that we declared ourselves in open battle? This guerilla warfare ..." he paused, suggestively, and I waited.

"You have made it very plain," he went on, "that you do not like me.

Perhaps I am putting it mildly. At all events, as your medical adviser, I am forced to inflict my presence frequently upon you. Your father likes me. Sarah likes me; Wiggles likes me. Couldn't you," he asked earnestly, "try to overcome your aversion, for the sake of the majority?"

I considered.

"I think not," I said finally.

"Very well. Having appealed to your filial respect, your better self, there is nothing to do but ask you to sign a temporary armistice. For I am beginning to find your concentrated attack rather ... wearing."

I smiled.

"I wish," said Dr. Denton carefully, "to give you every opportunity to humiliate and infuriate me. I have always believed a little aversion to be an excellent beginning to matrimony. I don't suppose," he continued hopefully, "that by way of simplifying things you would care to marry me?"

He bit into a large sugar cookie reflectively.

"Marry!" I shouted, sitting bolt upright. I can do it now, Diary, if the occasion demands.

"Marry," said he, with the utmost calmness, but with twinkling eyes.

I collapsed.

"I think you are perfectly insane," I began. And then ceased, for want of words.

Dr. Denton sighed.