by Anne Warner
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN - A DEPARTURE AND A RETURN
The next day poor Aunt Mary had to undergo the ordeal of being obliged toturn her face away from all those joys which had so suddenly andbrilliantly altered the hues of life for her. It pretty nearly used herup. She took her reviving decoction with tears standing in her eyes,--andsat down the glass with a bursting sigh. "My, but I wish I knew when I'dbe taking any more of this?" she said to Janice.
"Oh, you'll come back to the city some day," said the maid hopefully.
"Come back!" said Aunt Mary. "Well, I should say that I would come back!Why--I--?" she stopped suddenly, "never mind," she said after a minute,"only you'll see that I'll come back. Pretty surely--pretty positively."
Janice was folding her dresses into the small trunk. Aunt Marycontemplated the green plaid waist with an air of mournful reflection.
"I believe I'll always keep that waist rolled away," she murmured. "Ishall like to shake it out once in a while to remind me of things."
"Hand me my purse," she said to the maid five minutes afterwards. "Here'stwenty-five dollars an' I want you to take it and get anythin' you likewith it."
"But that's too much," Janice cried, putting her hands behind her andshaking her head.
"Take it," said Aunt Mary imperiously; "you're well worth it."
"I don't like to--truly," said the girl.
"Take it," said Aunt Mary sternly.
So Janice took it and thanked her.
The train went about 4 p.m., and it seemed wise to give the traveller aquiet luncheon in her own room and rally her escort afterwards.
When she had eaten and drank she sighed again and thoughtfully folded hernapkin.
"I've had a nice time," she said, gazing fixedly out of the window. "I'vehad a nice time, and I guess those young men have enjoyed it, too. Irather think my bein' here has given them a chance to go to a good manyplaces where they'd never have thought of goin' alone. I'm pretty sure ofit."
Janice made no reply.
"But it's all over now," said Aunt Mary with something that soundedsuspiciously like a sob in her voice, "an' I haven't got only just oneconsolation left an' that's--" again she paused.
Janice carried the tray away and the next minute they all burst in bearingtheir parting gifts in their arms.
The gifts were an indiscriminate collection of flowers, candy, magazines,books, etc.
Aunt Mary opened her closet door and showed the four dressing-cases.Everyone but Jack was mightily surprised and everyone was mightilypleased. The room looked like Christmas, and the faces, too.
"I shall die with my head on the hair brush," Clover declared, andMitchell went down on his knees and kissed Aunt Mary's hand.
"You must all come an' see me if you ever go anywhere near," said the oldlady. "Now promise."
"We promise," they yelled in unison, and then they asked in beautifulrhythm "What's the matter with Aunt Mary?" and yelled the answer "She'sall right!" with a fervor that nearly blew out the window.
"I declare," Aunt Mary exclaimed, as the echoes settled back among thefurniture, "when I think of Lucinda seems as if--" she paused; furtherspeech was for the nonce impossible.
"The carriages are ready," Janice announced at the door, and from thenuntil they reached the train all was confusion and bustle.
Only the train whistle could drown the farewells which they poured intoher ear-trumpet, and when they could hover in her drawing-room no longerthey stood outside the window as long as the window was there to standoutside of. And then they watched it until it was out of sight, and afterthat turned solemnly away.
"By grab!" said Burnett, "I think she ought to leave us all fortunes. Inever was so completely done up in my life."
"My throat's blistered," said Clover feebly; "I'm going to stand on myhead and gargle with salve until my throat's healed."
"I shall never shine on the team again," said Mitchell. "I shall hire outfor bleacher work. He who has successfully conversed with Aunt Mary neednot fear to attack a Wagner Opera single-handed."
Jack did not say anything. His heart was athirst for Mrs. Rosscott.
She was back in her own library the next night, and he rushed thither assoon as his first day's labor was over. She was prettier and her eyes weresweeter and brighter than ever as she rose to meet him and held out--firstone hand, and then both. He took the one hand and then the two and thelonging that possessed him was so overwhelming that only his acuteconsideration for all she was to him kept him from taking more yet.
"And the week's over," she said, when she had dragged her fingers out ofhis and gone and nestled down upon the divan, among the pillows thatrivaled each other in their attempts to get closer to her, "the week's allover and our aunt is gone."
"Yes," he said, rolling his favorite chair up near to her seat, "all isover and well over."
She smiled and he smiled too.
"She must have enjoyed it," she said thoughtfully.
"Enjoyed it!" said Jack. "She won't like Paradise in comparison."
"And you've been a good boy," said Mrs. Rosscott, regarding him merrily."You've played your part well."
He rose to his feet and put his hand to his temple.
"I salute my general," he said. "I was well trained in the maneuver."
"It's odd," said Mrs. Rosscott thoughtfully. "It was really so simple. Weare only women after all, whether it is I--or Aunt Mary--or all the rest ofthe world. We do so crave the knowledge that someone cares for us--for ourhours--for our pleasures. It isn't the bonbons--it's that someone troubledto buy the bonbons because he thought that they would please _us_."
"Doesn't a man have the same feeling?" Jack asked. "It isn't the tea wecome for--it's the knowledge that someone bothers to make it and sugar itand cream it."
"I wasn't laughing," said she.
"I wasn't laughing either," said he.
"But it's true," she went on, "and I think the solution of many unhappypuzzles lies there. Don't forget if you ever have a wife to pay lots ofattention to her."
"I always have paid lots of attention to her, haven't I?" he demanded.
Mrs. Rosscott shook her head.
"We won't discuss that," she said. "We'll stick to Aunt Mary. Aunt Mary isa rock whose foundation is firm; when it comes to your relations towardother women--" she stopped, shrugging her shoulders, and he understood.
"But it's going to come out all right now, I'm sure," she went on after aminute, "and I'm so glad--so very glad--that the chance was given to me toright the wrong that I was the cause of."
[Illustration 6]
"'And now the fun's all over and the work begins,' she said, looking down."
He looked at her and his eyes almost burned, they were so strong in theirleaping desire to fling himself at her feet and adore her goodness andsweetness and worldliness and wisdom from that vantage-ground of worship.
She choked a little at the glance and put her hands together in her lapwith a quick catching at self-control.
"And now the fun's all over and the work begins," she said, looking down.
"I know that," he asseverated.
She lifted up her eyes and looked at him so very kindly. And then--after alittle pause to gain command of word and thought she spoke again, slowly.
"Listen," she said, this time very softly, but very seriously. "I want totell you one thing and I want to tell it to you now. I had a good andsufficient reason for helping you out with Aunt Mary; but--" She hesitated.
"But?" he asked.
"But I've no reason at all for helping your Aunt Mary out with you, unlessyou prove worthy of her, and--"
"And?"
She looked at him, and shook her head slightly.
"I won't say 'and of me,'" she said finally.
"Why not?" he asked, a storm of tempestuous impatience raging behind hislips. "Do say it," he pleaded.
"No, I can't say it. It wouldn't be right. I don't mean it, and so I
won'tsay it. I'll only tell you that I can promise nothing as things are, andthat unless you go at life from now on with a tremendous energy I nevershall even dream of a possible promising."
He rose to his feet and towered above her, tall and straight and handsome,and very grave.
"All right," he said simply. "I'll remember."
Ever so much later that evening he rose to bid her good-night.
"Whatever comes, you've been an angel to me," he said in that hasty fiveseconds that her hand was his.
"Shall I ever regret it?" she asked, looking up to his eyes.
"Never," he declared earnestly, "never, never. I can swear that, and Ishall be able to swear the same thing when I'm as old as my Aunt Mary."
Mrs. Rosscott lowered her eyes.
"Who could ask more?" she said softly.
"I could," said Jack--"but I'll wait first."