The Soul of Susan Yellam Part 10

Direct in all things, it never occurred to Alfred that a modest girl might shrink from answering such a question in the sincere spirit which put it. She smiled sweetly:

"When we talked about that, Alfred, I was thinking amongst other things of...."

"Yes, dear?"

"That hat." She pointed a slim finger at it. "I wanted that hat ever so, because I saw one very like it on the pretty head of Mrs. Lionel Pomfret. I wrote a long letter to Father, telling him where to buy the straw and the tr.i.m.m.i.n.gs. You like it, don't you?"

"I never saw a prettier hat, but I like best the head as bobs under it."

"It cost me four-and-eight; not a penny more."

"Wonderful you be with your needle. Go on, Fancy. I reckon that hats ain't all you think about."

"I think about Willie, tossing in his great s.h.i.+p."

A consuming envy of Willie, the sailor brother, a.s.sailed Alfred, but no suitable phrase occurred to him. Fancy continued:

"Most of the time, Alfred, my thoughts are with poor Father. He does miss me."

"I'll be bound he does."

"He enjoys such miserable health. He's a real farrier, doctors horses as well as shoes 'em. And he takes his own medicine. I used to water it down, unbeknown to him."

"Horse medicine? That's moving stuff. Looks as if your thoughts, dear, never rambled far from the family."

"Oh, yes, they do. I think a lot, Alfred, about the future."

This was more encouraging.

"So do I; so do I."

"If anything happened to Father or Willie, where would I be?"

Alfred replied happily:

"I don't know where you would be, but I can tell you where you might be."

His eager voice beguiled her, but she resisted its pleading.

"I might be almost alone in the world. My two sisters are married. They live in small houses. There wouldn't be room for me. I like this place, but, oh, dear! some places be awful. It's selfish to think of myself, but I can't help it."

"'Tis a heartsome thing to think about. I think about you, Fancy, when I drive slow along our roads. You fill my mind, you do."

He hoped fervently that she would say what he wanted and confess outright that she let some of her thoughts dwell on him. But again the poor fellow was grievously disappointed. She murmured confusedly:

"How funny!"

"Funny be d.a.m.ned!"

"Alfred----!"

"I don't care. I'm moved as if I'd taken your father's horse medicine.

You're raking me up with a small tooth-comb. If I think of you all the time, 'twould seem fair that you'd think of me some of the time."

"Perhaps I do."

"Ah-h-h! That's better. We're coming to grips."

As if contradicting this, the aggravating witch raised her head. Alfred grew desperate. Had he been browsing in a fool's paradise? The thought palsied speech. He spoke angrily:

"I see how 'tis. You lie awake shaking with laughter, thinking what I fool I am."

"Gracious! If you talk like that, I shall think so."

"I am a fool about you. 'Tis a fact. I ain't ashamed on't."

"Folks say...." She hesitated; her eyes twinkled demurely, but he couldn't see them.

"Well, what do folks say?"

"That you're a oner with girls, on and off like."

"On and off? You're throwing big Eliza at my head. If I was a true soldier man, always bragging about my victorious marches with women, I might tell you 'twas t'other way about. Being only a timorsome carrier, and a lover of G.o.d Almighty's truth, I say this. Eliza scairt the gizzard out of me, she did. I fair ran away from her audacious, ungenteel attacks. Now you have it."

Fancy laughed. Alfred fumed on, beside himself with love and impatience.

"I've walked out with many maids, some not so maidenly as might be. I'm a picker and chooser, getting that much sense from my mother. I never walked long with any of 'em. If you'd happened along fifteen years ago, when the first petticoat hit me in eye, I'd have remained true and faithful to you--so help me G.o.d!"

She remained silent, twisting her fingers. He said hoa.r.s.ely:

"I want you desperately for my wife, Fancy Broomfield. And you know it, being a clever maid. Now--don't you want me?"

He felt her body relaxing, almost slipping from him. Then, very slowly, she lifted her eyes to his, and he read in their luminous depths the blessed answer which her quivering lips withheld.

He kissed her reverently and tenderly.

To his surprise and delight, she kissed him, clinging to him, and whispering pantingly:

"You'll be kind to me, Alfred; I know you will. I'm such a poor wife for the likes of you. Your mother thinks so, and your Aunt Jane."

"You can twist them round your lil' finger."

"I believe you love your motor-'bus more than me."

"What a notion! Now I'm going to kiss such foolishness out of you. If it ain't gone when I've given you the first big dose, why, I must begin all over again."

The river lapped its approval against the sides of the old boat. A sedge warbler looked on with his tiny head on one side. The tall reeds nodded.

The sun peeped from behind a cloud and shot a golden shaft upon the pair. Why do we think of the orbed maiden, the Moon, as being kinder to lovers than the great G.o.d of day, which warms and fructifies? Upon this artless pair he poured generously his vivifying beams. Suddenly the willows sparkled with diamonds, the grey river became a sheet of silver, the sedge warbler fluted his hymeneal note, and other warblers joined in the chorus.