Part 29 (1/2)
”What do you mean?” she gasped.
”I mean exactly what I have said; that if it had been that strutting young philosopher from the West you would--well, you would have allowed him to say what was in his mind, no matter whether it had been his latest thought on Kantianism, the weather, or his admiration for yourself. Am I not right?”
”I wonder, I wonder”--she faltered, drawing away, the better to observe me.
”You wonder how much I know! To relieve your mind without parleying further, I will say to you that I know everything.”
”Then Aunt Octavia must have told you; and that seems incredible. It was distinctly understood”--
”Your aunt told me nothing. Not by words did any one tell me.”
”Not by words?” she asked, eyeing me wonderingly and clearly fearing that I might be playing some trick upon her. ”Then can it be that Hezekiah--but no! Hezekiah does n't know!”
”Trust Hezekiah for not telling secrets,” I answered evasively. ”Give me credit for some imagination. The air of Hopefield is stimulating, and in the few days I have spent in your aunt's house I have learned much that I never dreamed of before. I am not at all the person you greeted with so much courtesy in the library when I arrived there, a chimney-doctor and an ignorant person, a few afternoons ago,--called, as I thought, to prescribe for flues that proved to be in admirable condition, but really summoned by higher powers to a.s.sist the fates in the proper and orderly performance of their duties to several members of the house of Hollister,--yourself among them.”
”I don't understand it; you are wholly inexplicable.”
”I am the simplest and least guileful of beings, I a.s.sure you. Yet I have done some things here not in the slightest way related to chimney doctoring; and something else I expect to do for which I believe you will thank me through all the years of your life.”
”Ah, if you really know, that is possible!” she sighed wearily. ”I am very tired of it all. I was very foolish ever to have agreed to Aunt Octavia's plan. You have seen those men,--any one of them might, you know”-- And she shrugged her shoulders impatiently.
”Any one of them might be the seventh man! There, you see I do know!
And I mean to help you!”
She was immensely relieved; there was no question of that. Grat.i.tude shone in her eyes; and then, as I marvelled at their beautiful dark depths, fear suddenly possessed them. The change in her was startling.
Several motors had swept by in the outer road while we talked; they were faintly visible through the trees; and just now we both heard a horse and caught a fleeting glimpse of Hartley Wiggins, riding slowly with bowed head toward the inn. Cecilia's horse flung up his head, but she clapped her hands upon his nostrils and held them there to prevent his whinnying until that figure of despair had pa.s.sed out of hearing.
I was smitten with sorrow for Hartley Wiggins. I could put myself in his place and imagine his feelings as he rode like a defeated general back to the inn, there to face the other suitors after the humiliating experience which Cecilia Hollister had just described. In his ignorance of the cause of her eagerness to escape from him, he no doubt believed that he had all unconsciously made himself intolerable to her.
It was plain that that glimpse of him had touched Cecilia's pity; if I had doubted the sincerity of her regard for him before, I spurned the thought now. I was anxious to requicken hope in her,--an odd office for me to a.s.sume when in my own affairs I had always yielded my sword readily to the blue devils! Yet during my short stay at Hopefield I had already found it possible to restore Miss Octavia's confidence in her own chosen destiny, and in this delicate love-affair between Cecilia Hollister and my best friend I proffered counsel and sympathy with an a.s.surance that astonished me.
”I have told you enough, Miss Hollister, to make it clear that I am in a position to help you. Believe me, I have no other business before me but to complete the service I have undertaken.”
”But there is always”--she began, then ceased abruptly, and lifted her head proudly--”there is always Mr. Wiggins's att.i.tude toward my sister.
Not for anything in the world would I cause her the slightest unhappiness. You must see that, now that you know her.”
I laughed aloud. Cecilia's concern for Hezekiah's happiness was so absurd that I could not restrain my mirth for a moment. Displeasure showed promptly in Cecilia's face.
”I am sorry if you doubt my sincerity, Mr. Ames. I will put the matter directly, to make sure I have not been misunderstood heretofore, and say that if Hezekiah is interested in Hartley Wiggins and cares for him in the least,--you know she is young and susceptible,--I shall take care that he never sees me again.”
”Pardon me, but maybe you don't quite understand Hezekiah!”
”Is it possible, then, that you do?” she inquired coldly. ”I imagine your opportunities for seeing her have not been numerous.”
”Well, it is n't so much a matter of seeing her, when you've read of her all your life and dreamed about her. She's in every fairy story that ever was written; she dances through the mythologies of all races.
Hers is the kingdom of the pure in heart. Her mind is like a beautiful bright meadow by the sea, and her thoughts the dipping of swallow-wings on lightly swaying gra.s.ses.”
Cecilia's manner changed, and she smiled.
”You seem to have an attack of something; it looks serious. You have n't known her long enough to find out so much!”
”Longer than you would believe. She and I sat on the sh.o.r.e together when Ulysses sailed by; we were among those present at the sack of Troy; we heard Roland's ivory trumpet at Roncesvalles.”