That Mother-in-Law of Mine Part 9

"Where have you been?" I asked, as he joined me and took a seat.

"None of your business. In town."

"Is Miss Van well?" I asked mischievously.

"How should I know?"

"Come, George, you don't play the part of Innocence over well. Suppose you try Candor, and tell me where you have been."

"You mistake my ident.i.ty. I'm not your baby. You will find the youthful Charlie entertaining his mother up stairs."

A long-drawn-out, agonized wail, proceeding from the regions above, showed how Bessie was being entertained.

"No opening yet?" I ventured to ask, changing the subject.

"Not the slightest prospect. If some of these doctors could only be inveigled into taking some of their own prescriptions! But no; they are too wise."

"The bitterness of your tone would seem to indicate that you have not enjoyed your visit to the town."

"The town be hanged, and the country too! Let's take a walk down the street. Give me a cigar, confound you! How hot it is!"

We strolled down the street.

"This is a terrible vale of tears, this world," said I. "The world is hollow, and my doll is stuffed with sawdust, which accounts for his howling."

George was silent. He pulled at his cigar ferociously, smoked it half up, threw it away, and replaced it by a cigarette.

"When a man throws away the best part of a Reina Victoria he is either flush or badly in love," said I to myself. I waited patiently for him to speak, as I was perfectly willing to receive his confidence, but I didn't have the chance. He maintained a loud silence all the way, and we walked back home as we had gone out.

"Something's up-something serious," I informed Bessie that night, "but George does not confide in me worth a cent, which I think is a little unbrotherly."

The following day George was absent from an early hour in the afternoon till long after all the household were fast asleep at night. I was awakened at about midnight by a light tapping at the door of our room, and slipped out of bed without disturbing Bessie or the baby.

"Come up to my den!" whispered George, as I opened the door. "Don't wake the others."

I quietly got into my clothes and crawled noiselessly up to George's "den," devoured by curiosity. The moment I caught sight of his handsome face I saw that it was all right with him, and that he had nothing but good news to tell me. We sat down, hoisted our heels to a comfortable alt.i.tude, and George told his story. I let him tell it himself here:-

"I was feeling terribly blue yesterday, when you saw me," he began, "as you could see. In the afternoon I went into town, and, according to a previous arrangement, hired a horse and buggy and called to take her out riding."

(Of course "her" was Miss Van.)

"We had agreed to take the old Linwood road, and follow it to the village, returning through the Maplewood Park and so getting back to the city at about six. We left the town and pa.s.sed through the suburbs rapidly, until we struck into the country, and there I let the horse go his own pace, which was slow. So much the better. Miss Van Duzen was never more charming. We had the most agreeable bit of talk, and she drew me out till I amazed myself. She always does. It's no use my telling you, Charlie, but I have been a fool in my love for her ever since the night she came into this cottage like a stray beam of suns.h.i.+ne on a cloudy day. My heart went out of my keeping the night she called here with the old gentleman. I believe it was her freshness, her moral purity, that acted on my morbid, half _blase_ spirit, like a tonic, and brought me on my feet. I'm talking random nonsense, you say, but why shouldn't I? I'm drunk with love. Don't laugh at me. I'll be all right by daylight, except a headache. We got to talking about ourselves.

Lovers always do, don't they? You ought to know. There doesn't seem to be much else in the world worth talking about. I told her all about myself,-my past, with its good and bad points, and my present hopes and purposes. It all popped out as naturally as possible. I suppose it would sound like drivel if I were to repeat it. Finally she began to laugh.

"'It is dangerous to make a woman your confidant,' she said. 'How do you know that I can keep a secret better than any other of my s.e.x?'

"'I am not afraid on that score,' said I. 'This is my confessional. It is as sacred as any. Am I to receive absolution?'

"She could not fully promise that. She read me a neat little lecture. It was fascinating to thus receive correction at her hands. I pledged myself, when it was done, to follow the course laid out for me. Then I made bold to exchange _roles_. With some maidenly hesitation, which soon vanished, she in turn laid before me the inner history of her life. Ah, my boy, how little there was in it to gloss over! how much to humiliate the best and n.o.blest of us men! It was a revelation that made me prostrate myself before her. I was not worthy to hear it."

George paused, and drummed on the table with his fingers nervously.

"I may as well tell you all," he resumed. "I had resolved to ask that girl to marry me when we started on our ride, but after what she said to me so simply and modestly, I positively could not do it. She expected me to speak, I know that, for she would not have told me what she did tell me, otherwise."

"So you didn't speak? Oh, stupid, stupid boy!"

"I know it. But my tongue was tied. Perhaps it was all cowardice; I can't say. I never was afraid of any one before. I came home utterly shattered and down-hearted. To-day I gravitated back to her, after a sleepless night. She received me with the same friendly smile as usual, but there seemed to be a slight shadow over her spirits. That little, almost imperceptible change filled me with joy. I jumped to a conclusion that intoxicated me, and made the plunge at once.

"'It is another case of the moth and the candle,' I said to her.

"'Thank you. So I am a candle? That is a fine figure of speech.'

"'Seriously speaking, I think we had not finished what we were talking of yesterday.'

"'What were we talking of yesterday?' she had the effrontery to ask.

'Oh, yes, now I recollect. It was yourself. That subject, I fear, you will never finish talking of.'

"'Now that's a very mean speech, all things considered,' I whined. 'Do you want to strike a man, when he's way down?'

"'Don't play Uriah Heep. I hate 'umble people. But if I have perchance pierced the thick epidermis of Parisian pride you have so long worn, I'm glad of it.'

"She likes to abuse me, and I enjoy it quite as well as she. She continued to scold me and mock me for some time, to disguise her actual mood. I saw through it, and let her have her way for a while. The meeker my replies, the greater the exaggerated harshness of her criticisms. At last I no longer attempted to reply at all. Leaning back in a corner of the sofa, I watched the play of her animated features and the light of her dark brown eyes, and felt that she was the one woman in the universe that suited me, the one woman I could respect and love pa.s.sionately at the same time.

"'You say truly I am a coward. I am aware of that. I admit that I am all that is detestable. If such a wretch as you describe were to love a woman, what unhappiness for him! There could be no hope for him. He would know his own irredeemable unworthiness, and so could only slink away in shame.'

"'You are quite right,' she cried, laughing merrily. 'That would be the only course for him to pursue.'

"'By the way,' I said, 'that reminds me that my train goes out in twenty minutes.'

"I rose, and she also stood up to accompany me to the door. I held out my hand. It was an unusual demonstration, and perhaps she thought it meant good-by in earnest. At least, as she put her hand in mine, I detected a look I had never before seen in the depths of those fine eyes. With a sudden, unpremeditated, and irresistible movement, I drew her close to me, folded my arms about her, and kissed her pa.s.sionately.

"'Clara!' I whispered, 'I love you! I love you! Don't tell me to go.'

"She gently drew herself out of my reluctant arms, and though her eyes were misty now, I saw in them that I was to stay.

"That's all the story I have to tell you, Charlie. I am too happy to-night to sleep, so I couldn't let you sleep. I stayed and spent the evening. Mr. Desmond, bless his dear old heart! cried over Clara, and gave her an old-fas.h.i.+oned blessing. I walked home on air. Do I look very badly corned?"

I gave him a rousing hand-shake, and wiped away a stray bit of moisture from my cheek.

"May I tell Bessie?" were my first words when I found my tongue.

"Why not? There will be no long engagement in this case. The knot shall be tied as soon as possible."

The announcement I made to my little wife the following morning was not entirely unexpected, yet it filled her with delight. Miss Van was the woman of all others that Bessie wished to have George marry. The arrangement was, therefore, completely to her satisfaction, and she beamed upon the happy George with true sisterly affection.

What effect would the news have upon Mrs. Pinkerton? I asked myself. I had not long to wait for an answer, for it was at the breakfast-table that George fired the shot.

"Mother," said the bold youth, "I'm going to be married."