People of the Whirlpool Part 24

"The best possible idea, though I should have hardly dared suggest it,"

said Martin, tramping to and fro in excitement. "How shall we manage? Go down here to the rectory?"

"I would rather go over to town," said Miss Lavinia, beginning, in spite of herself, to realize difficulties. "We do not know who might drop in here."

"Very well," said Martin, decisively, looking at his watch. "I have it!

Timothy is off to-day; I will harness the grays to the stanhope, as we can't wait to send to the stable, and we will drive over the back way by the Ridge and be home again by dinner time. The rector of All Saints' was a cla.s.smate of mine, and I met him again only the other day, so we shall have no trouble there."

"Are you sure you can harness the horses properly?" asked Miss Lavinia, with characteristic caution, and then smiling at herself, as Martin hurried off to the stable.

In less than twenty minutes the sober gray horses turned out of the stable yard and up the road upon the most remarkable trip of their career. Nothing strange was noticeable about the turnout, except that the traces hung a trifle loose, and that the occupants sat unusually far back under the hood for so pleasant an afternoon. That is, until after they had pa.s.sed Martha's house in the lane and turned into the unfrequented back highway, then they both leaned forward, gave a sigh of relief, and, looking at each other, laughed aloud.

"Do you realize that we are eloping, like runaway school children?" said Miss Lavinia, "we two hitherto sober-minded Knickerbockers?"

"I realize that I like what we are doing very much, whatever it may be called," replied Martin, "and that it is very considerate of you to spare me and do it in this way. The conventional affair is very hard on a man of my years, all of whose contemporaries are either bald or rheumatic; besides, now I think of it, it is merely carrying out the ever-present precedent. My father's great-great-grand father and mother eloped in 1689 from Staten Island to the Bouerie, and the boat upset when they were going back."

"Mercy on us!" exclaimed Miss Lavinia, "I hope we shall not upset! I wonder if the wheels are on securely. I thought I heard something rattle.

There it is again."

As they reached the bottom of the long hill, Martin let the reins hang loose on the horses' necks and, lowering the hood, looked back to see if he could find the cause of the jolting sound, accompanied by panting, as of a dog running. Then he gave an exclamation of impatience, and pulled the horses up short, for there, alternately running and lifting up their feet and swinging, were the twins, clinging to the back of the gig!

Miss Lavinia gave a cry of dismay. "Where did you come from, and where are you going?" she questioned rather sharply. "We went to Martha's, you know," said Ian, as if his errand had been one of such importance that it was impossible she should forget it, "and she wasn't there, so we thought we'd just look for those people we said about, by ourselves. But we couldn't find anybody, only a s.h.i.+ny black snake by the road, and he rubber-necked at us and spit some 'fore he ran away. Then we saw grandpop's horses coming, and when you went by we hooked on, and--"

"'Cause we thought if you was looking for those people and found them, then we'd be there for the pink ice cream," added Richard, cheerfully, supplementing Ian's story when his breath gave out.

"I suppose we must turn around and take them home," said Miss Lavinia, with a sigh.

"Not a bit of it. Let them come with us; it is too late to turn back, unless," he added, with a ring of mock humility in his tone, "you have changed your mind and wish time to think. As for me, I've turned my back on even thinking whether they will be missed or who will worry.

"Scramble in, boys, and curl up here in front. You are just in time; two of these people you were searching for are going to be married this afternoon. We are going to the wedding, and you shall be best men," and the boys settled down, chuckling and whispering, but presently Ian looked up, as light dawned, and cried: "I spy! It's you, Uncle Martin, and Aunt Lavinia is your Mrs., only you couldn't find her all summer till to-day," and he hugged his friend around the legs, which were all he could reach, but Richard leaned backward until his head rested on Miss Lavinia's knees, and he reached up his cooing lips to be kissed.

The rest of the ride to town was uneventful, except that when they reached the outskirts they met Jenks-Smith's coach loaded with Whirlpool people, but the Lady of the Bluffs saw nothing strange in the combination, and merely shook her parasol at them, calling, "I'm sorry to hear you're flitting, just when it's getting lively again, too!"

Fortunately the rector of All Saints' was at home, likewise the requisite number of his family, for witnesses. Then it transpired that the couple had never thought of the ring, and while Martin went out to buy one, Miss Lavinia was left sitting on the edge of a very stiff sofa with a boy on either side of her, with the Rectory family drawn up opposite like an opposing force, which did not encourage easy conversation.

However, the agony was soon over, and the bride and groom left, Martin giving his old cla.s.smate, to whom the world had been penurious, a hand-shake that, when examined by the breathless family a few moments later, was found to yield at least a new parlour carpet, an easy-chair for the Rector's bent back, and a new clerical suit to cover his gaunt frame.

"Now comes the pink ice cream," sang Ian, dancing a-tiptoe as they reached the street; and there being but one good restaurant in town, on the high street, next to the saddler's shop where the red goat harness was still displayed, the party drove there, and the pink ice cream was eaten, good and full measure thereof, while on their way out the coveted goat harness found itself being taken from the window to be packed away under the seat of the gig.

It was almost dinner time when father and I returned to-night, and the boys were squeezed together in a chair on the piazza, close to Miss Lavinia, while Martin sat near by on the bal.u.s.trade. The boys were in a great state of giggles, and kept clapping their hands to their mouths as if they feared something would escape. I hurried upstairs, not wis.h.i.+ng to make dinner late, as I knew Martin expected to take the nine o'clock train, just as father came in saying that Timothy had returned, and that he found the horses in a wonderful sweat, and feared they were sick, as they hadn't been out all day.

By this time we were in the hall and walking toward the dining room.

Martin stopped short, as if to say something, and then changed his mind, while a b.u.mping at the pantry door attracted the attention of us all.

Out came Ian, a portion of the goat harness on his head and shoulders, followed by Richard, around whose neck the reins were fastened, and between them they carried the great heavy silver tea-tray only used on state occasions. In the centre of it rested a pink sofa pillow, upon which some small, flat object like a note was lying.

They came straight across the hall, halting in front of me, and saying earnestly, "We didn't ask for the harness, but Uncle Martin says that people always give their best mens presents." I looked at him for a second, not understanding, then Evan, with a curious twinkle in his eye, strode across, whispering to me, "The Deluge," as he picked up the card and read aloud, "Mr. and Mrs. Martin Cortright!" It was the card that Richard had printed several days before and carried in strange company in his warm, mussy little pocket ever since.

There was tense silence, and then a shout, as Martin took his wife's hand that wore the wedding ring and laid it on mine; then he and father fairly hugged each other, for father did not forget those long-ago days of the strawberries that Martin could not gather.

When the excitement had subsided and dinner was over, Martha and Tim, to whom the horse matter had been explained, came over to offer their congratulations,--at least Martha did. Timothy merely grinned, and, to the best of my belief, winked slyly at Martin, as much as to say, "We may be long in knowing our minds, but when we men are ready, the weemen fair tumble over us."

"Indeed, mum, but I wish you joy, and that he'll lead you as easy a life as Tim'thy here does me, 'deed I do, and _no_ disrespeck intended," was Martha's parting sentence; and then our wonder as to whether Martin was going to town, or what, was cut short by his rising, looking at his watch, and saying in the most matter-of-fact way to Lavinia: "Is your bag ready? You know we leave in an hour."

"Does Lucy expect you?" I ventured to ask.

"Oh no, I shall not trouble her until the day appointed. We shall go to the Manhattan, I think."

"How about your cousin Lydia?" asked father, who could not resist a chance to tease.

"I forgot all about her!" exclaimed poor Lavinia, clasping her hands tragically and looking really conscience-stricken. "And I," said Evan, who had suddenly jumped up and rammed his hand into his side pocket, "forgot to post your letter to her!"

_October_ 31. We have all been to New York to visit the runaway Cortrights, as Evan calls them, now that they are settled, and it is pleasant to see that so much belated happiness is possible. The fate of Lavinia's house is definitely arranged; they will remain in "Greenwich Village," in spite of all advice to move up in town. The defunct back yard is being covered by an extension that will give Martin a fine library, with a side window and a sc.r.a.p of balcony, while the ailantus tree is left, that bob-tailed Josephus may not be deprived of the feline pleasures of the street or his original way of reaching it over the side fence; and the flower garden that was, will be the foundation of a garden of books under the kindly doctrine of compensation.

Above is to be a large guest room for Sylvia and Horace, or Evan and me, so that there will be room in plenty when by and by we bring the boys to see our New York.

Mrs. Jenks-Smith, who has formed a sincere attachment to Lavinia Cortright, did all in her power to persuade her to be her neighbour up in town, offering a charming house at a bargain and many advantages.

Finally becoming piqued at the refusal, she said:--

"Why will you be so stupid? Don't you know that this out-of-the-way street is in the social desert?"

"It may be in a desert, as you say," said Lavinia, gently, "but we mean at least to make it an oasis for our friends who are weary of the whirling of the pool."

We stood looking at the boys as they slept tonight. Strange thoughts will crop up at times most unexpectedly. Horns blowing on the highway proclaimed the late arrival of a coaching party at the Bluffs. "Would you like to have money if you could, and go about the world when and where you please?" I asked Evan, but he, shaking his head, drew me towards him, answering my question with another--

"Would you, or why do you ask?"

I never thought that Mrs. Jenks-Smith's stricture would turn to a prayer upon my lips, but before I knew it I whispered, "G.o.d keep us comfortably poor."

Then Ian, feeling our presence, raised himself in sleepy leisure, and nestling his cheek against my dress said, "Barbara, _please_ give Ian a drink of water."