Old Rose and Silver Part 19

"Except the last one. You can see some of his ribs yet."

"You can't by June."

"No, I guess not. Say, Romie, oughtn't she to be coming to see us by now?"

"Who?"

"Isabel--what's-her-name. You know, up at Bernard's."

Happy-hearted comrade though she was, Juliet had a secret longing for feminine a.s.sociation, at rare intervals. It would be pleasant she thought, to go skating sometimes with a girl or two instead of the usual crowd of boys. She hated herself fiercely for disloyalty, but the idea recurred persistently.

"I'm not up on etiquette," Romeo replied, casually, "but I should think, if she wanted to come, she could do it by now. We made a polite call as far as I know."

"We didn't leave any cards."

"Cards? What kind of cards?"

"Why, little cards with our names on 'em. People always leave 'em, in the books, when they make calls."

Romeo went over to the slate again and made another memorandum. "I'll get 'em. What'll we have on 'em?"

"We always go together," Juliet suggested, "so I think one will do. Just put on it 'The Crosby Twins,' with our address."

"No need of the address. Everybody who knows us knows where we live."

"Perhaps," Juliet went on, meditatively, "she doesn't like me."

"If she doesn't," Romeo retorted, "I'll know the reason why. Do you remember what I did to the red-headed boy from the Ridge who said he wouldn't skate with the crowd if there was a girl in it?"

Juliet nodded with satisfaction. "But you know, Romie, you can't hit a girl."

"That's so," he admitted disconsolately. "That fresh kid had to wear beefsteak over one eye for almost a week."

Juliet laughed at the idea of Isabel with beefsteak bandaged over one eye. "We won't worry about things we can't help," she said, philosophically. "We've done the proper thing and now it's up to her. If she doesn't come before we get the automobile, she doesn't get invited to go out in it."

"You bet she doesn't."

The talk quickly turned to the unfailing subject of automobiles. "The Yellow Peril" had been ordered and half paid for, but there was delay in delivery. The brown clothes trimmed with tan leather had also been ordered, as well as the brown felt hats, exactly alike, with yellow ribbon bands. They had the goggles and enjoyed glaring fiercely at each other through them, especially at meals. Juliet had thought of making a veil of yellow chiffon, but Romeo had objected violently. He thought they should look as much alike as possible, so she had yielded.

They had decided to make a wide track through the yard and around the barn to practise on. Suitable s.p.a.ce for the, automobile had already been set aside in the barn and safely fenced in beyond the reach of canine interference. Romeo had not seen the necessity of the fence until Juliet had pointed out that some of the dogs would want to sleep on the leather cushions. "It would make it smell so doggy," she had said, "that we'd have to call it 'The Yellow Dog' instead of 'The Yellow Peril.'"

Romeo, with true masculine detachment, could talk automobile with unfailing enthusiasm, and yet think continually about something else.

The thought that Isabel might not like Juliet had not occurred to him.

It seemed impossible that anybody should not like Juliet, for, in the fond eyes of her twin, she was the most sane and sensible girl in the world.

"Anyhow," thought Romeo as he went to sleep that night, "if Jule wants her to come here, she's got to do it, that's all."

He meditated upon the problem for several days without reaching any satisfactory conclusion. At last he determined to go up to see Isabel himself, and, as he phrased it in his own mind, "see how the land lays."

It would be difficult to elude Juliet, but, in Romeo's experience, the things one determined to do could nearly always be done.

It was an easy matter to make an errand to the City, "to poke 'em up a bit about the machine," and to get the visiting cards, which had promptly been ordered by mail. Juliet rather insisted upon going along, but was easily dissuaded by the fact that "there might be a row, and anyway, it's a man's job."

He came home about dusk with several packages, one of which he carefully concealed under a pile of leaves in the fence corner just inside the yard. He could easily reach through the palings and lift it over the fence as he pa.s.sed.

Juliet admired the cards, was delighted with a box of chocolates and two new novels, and condescended to approve of Romeo's new red tie. He had gloves in his pocket, but feared to show them to her, gloves being her pet object of scorn.

After they had cleared off the table, Romeo strolled over to the window.

Five of the dogs were gathered about some small object and the yard was littered with bits of white. Under his breath Romeo said something that sounded like profanity, and Juliet p.r.i.c.ked up her ears.

"What's the matter?" she demanded.

"I brought home some flowers," explained Romeo, carefully, for it was written in the covenant that the twins should never, under any circ.u.mstances, lie to each other, "and I must have dropped 'em. The dogs have torn 'em to pieces, box and all."

Juliet clapped her hands gleefully. "I'm glad of it!"

"Why?" he asked quickly, with an uneasy sense that she was a mind- reader.

"Because we've got so many dogs."

Romeo chose to take offence at the innocent remark and relapsed into gloomy silence. Disdaining to speak, Juliet curled up on the decrepit sofa with a book and the chocolates, and presently went to sleep.

"Fortune favours the brave," he quoted to himself, as he tiptoed into the kitchen, cautiously closing the door. A subtle perfume filled the room and he sniffed appreciatively. An open bottle of vanilla extract stood on the kitchen table, where a pan of fudges was cooling, marked off into neat squares. He wrapped the pan in a newspaper, anointed his handkerchief liberally with the fragrant extract, and softly stole out into the night.

The dogs followed him to the back fence, but did not bark. Only a few soft whines followed him as he sped down the road, thrilled with a sense of adventure and romance. If Juliet should happen to wake, she would think he had gone away because he was angry, and never need know that like some misunderstood knight of old, he was merely upon an errand of chivalry for her. The fudges would do as well as the calla lilies, probably, though he felt instinctively that they were not quite as elegant.

It was a long way to Madame Bernard's, and Juliet's knight-errant was weary, after an exhausting day in town. He paused outside the gate long enough to clean the dust from his shoes with the most soiled of his two handkerchiefs, then went boldly up the steps and rang the bell.

He was embarra.s.sed to find Colonel Kent and Allison there, though the younger man's tact speedily set him at ease again, and enabled him to offer Isabel the pan of fudges with unwonted grace of manner. Then he went over to Madame Bernard.

"Juliet couldn't come to-night," he said, "but here's our card."

Madame could not repress a smile as she read "The Crosby Twins" engraved in the fashionable script of the moment. "How very original," she said, kindly. "n.o.body but you and Juliet would have thought of it."

"Jule thought of it," he replied, with evident pride. "She's more up on etiquette than I am."

"If it's proper for husband and wife to have their names engraved on the same card," Madame went on, "it must be all right for twins."

"It's more proper," Romeo returned, "because n.o.body is so much related as twins are. Husband and wife are only relatives by marriage."

Colonel Kent laughed appreciatively. "Good! May I have some of Miss Isabel's candy?"

Isabel, convulsed with secret mirth, informally pa.s.sed the pan, and only Romeo refused. "I can have 'em any time," he said, generously. "Doesn't Jule make dandy fudges, though?"

Everybody agreed that she did. Madame Francesca expressed something more than conventional regret that Juliet had not been able to come. "She was asleep," Romeo explained, with studied indifference.

"After she wakes," suggested Colonel Kent, "we'd like very much to have you both come to our house to dinner."

"Thank you," replied Romeo, somewhat stiffly. "We'd be very much pleased." Then to himself, he added: "That was a lie, but it wasn't to Jule, so it doesn't matter."