Part 40 (1/2)
Edith was startled at this unheard of piece of rashness partic.i.p.ated in by the ghost. She trembled through the inward fear she had of this man of unapproachable demeanor. But summoning up what little of her former courage she had left after the blighting effect of her long illness, she replied.
”Oh, Mr. Monroe, I have no objections to your coming here sometimes as a guest of my papa; but as for calling on me, for the purpose you intimate, that is impossible.”
”Why do you object to me, Miss Jarney?” he asked, undeterred by repulses that would have sent any self-respecting man into hiding.
”Why, you are as old as Adam himself,” replied Edith, feigning to be gay, but still frightened.
Seeing Edith's dainty hand, with a diamond s.h.i.+ning on it, he caught it up, as if he would touch his vile lips to it. Edith withdrew her hand quickly, without a word, arose and walked toward the piano, leaving the ghost sitting alone like a confused statue when hit with a snow ball.
Thereupon, Monroe came to his senses, and forthwith departed, leaving a cloud of mystification behind, over his actions.
In a huff (inwardly), he sought his companions, and escorted them to the Bottomless Pit, there to celebrate his great victory, as he called it.
”Well, what luck?” asked Welty Morne, as soon as a bottle had been uncorked, and he held a gla.s.s of its contents before his admiring eyes.
”Aye, what luck?” chimed in Bate Yenger.
”Bully good luck,” said the ghost, like an owl.
”All right with the old man, I suppose?” said Welty, swallowing down his gla.s.sful.
”All right--the old duffer,” said Monroe, draining his gla.s.s.
”How about the girl?” they asked.
”She fell right into my arms, and accepted,” responded the ghost, seemingly without the glint of a frown.
”Whew! Quick work, old boy; quick work! When is it to come off?” asked Welty, speaking loudly.
”Sometime in the future,” answered Monroe, mysteriously.
”Drink! and the devil have done for the rest!” shouted Welty, and he imbibed another gla.s.s as an additional stimulant to his joy.
”Bully good people, boys; bully good people,” said Monroe, pulling another cork.
”How soon you going to drop the pole set up to impale Winthrope?” asked Welty, unrestrained now in his enthusiasm, which he gave vent to occasionally, by whistling and humming a doggerel, alternately.
”The dog,” growled Monroe, changing his tone. ”Not yet, boys; not yet.
It goes up as if nothing had happened.”
”When will you transfix him?” asked Welty.
”I am going to New York tomorrow to complete plans,” said the invincible ghost.
”Up goes the flag of destruction!” shouted Welty, with Bate repeating the words after him, both raising gla.s.ses and emptying them.
Thus they talked and thus they drank, till the potent power of wine laid them low in a delirious sense of delirium in Monroe's downy bed.
After Monroe had left the Jarney home, Edith and Star ascended to the former's chamber for that rest which night should bring to the pure in heart.
Divesting themselves of their day clothing, they invested themselves in their night robes, and laid down together, side by side, in the bed where Edith had lain so long as an invalid. When the lights were out and the coverlets were drawn up over them, Edith heaved a sigh, like one does who lies down in exhaustion to find that peace that darkness and a soft bed fetches on. Star fell asleep directly, and lay in that peaceful calm which comes to one in good health and having no intangible fancies in the mind.