Other Things Being Equal

by Emma Wolf

  Chapter XV

  Mr. Levice, sauntering down the garden-path, saw the trio approaching.For a moment he did not recognize the gentleman in his summer attire.When he did, surprise, then pleasure, then a spirit of inquietude,took possession of him. He had been unexpectedly startled on Ruth'sbirthnight by a vague something in Kemp's eyes. The feeling, however,had vanished gradually in the knowledge that the doctor always hada peculiarly intent gaze, and, moreover, no one could have helpedappreciating her loveliness that night. This, of itself, will bringa softness into a man's manner; and without doubt his fears had beengroundless,--fears that he had not dared to put into words. For old manas he was, he realized that Dr. Kemp's strong personality was such aswould prove dangerously seductive to any woman whom he cared to honorwith his favor; but with a "Get thee behind me, Satan" desire, hehad put the question from him. He could have taken his oath on Ruth'sheart-wholeness, yet now, as he recognized her companion, his misgivingsreturned threefold. The courteous gentleman, however, was at his ease asthey came up.

  "This is a surprise, Doctor," he exclaimed cordially, opening the gateand extending his hand. "Who would have thought of meeting you here?"

  Kemp grasped his hand heartily.

  "I am a sort of surprise-party," he answered, swinging Ethel to theground and watching her scamper off to the hotel; "and what is more," hecontinued, turning to him, "I have not brought a hamper, which makes oneof me."

  "You calculate without your host," responded Levice; "this is averitable land of milk and honey. Come up and listen to my wiferhapsodize."

  "How is she?" he asked, turning with him and catching a glimpse ofRuth's vanishing figure.

  "Feeling quite well," replied Levice; "she is all impatience now for adelirious winter season."

  "I thought so," laughed the doctor; "but if you take my advice, you willdraw the bit slightly."

  Mrs. Levice was delighted to see him; she said it was like the sight ofa cable-car in a desert. He protested at such a stupendous comparison,and insisted that she make clear that the dummy was not included. Theshort afternoon glided into evening, and Dr. Kemp went over to the hoteland dined at the Levices' table.

  Ruth, in a white wool gown, sat opposite him. It was the first timehe had dined with them; and he enjoyed a singular feeling over thesituation. He noticed that although Mrs. Levice kept up an almostincessant flow of talk, she ate a hearty meal, and that Ruth, who wasunusually quiet, tasted scarcely anything. Her father also observed it,and resolved upon a course of strict surveillance. He was glad to hearthat the doctor had to leave on the early morning's train, though, ofcourse, he did not say so. As they strolled about afterward, he managedto keep his daughter with him and allowed Kemp to appropriate his wife.

  They finally drifted to the cottage-steps, and were enjoying the beautyof the night when Will Tyrrell presented himself before them.

  "Good-evening," he said, taking off his hat as he stood at the foot ofthe steps. "Mr. Levice, Father says he has at last scared up two othergentlemen; and will you please come over and play a rubber of whist?"

  Mr. Levice felt himself a victim of circumstances. He and Mr. Tyrrellhad been looking for a couple of opponents, and had almost given up thesearch. Now, when he decidedly objected to moving, it would have beenheartless not to go.

  "Don't consider me," said the doctor, observing his hesitancy. "If itill relieve you, I assure you I shall not miss you in the least."

  "Go right ahead, Jules" urged his wife; "Ruth and I will take care ofthe doctor."

  If she had promised to take care of Ruth, it would have been more tohis mind; but since his wife was there, what harm could accrue that hispresence would prevent? So with a sincere apology he went over to thehotel.

  He hardly appreciated what an admirable aide he had left behind him inhis wife.

  Kemp sat upon the top step, and leaned his back against the railing;although outwardly he kept up a constant low run of conversation withMrs. Levice, who swayed to and fro in her rocker, he was intentlyconscious of Ruth's white figure perched on the window-sill.

  How Mrs. Levice happened to broach the subject, Ruth never knew; but shewas rather startled when she perceived that Kemp was addressing her.

  "I should like to show my prowess to you, Miss Levice."

  "In what?" she asked, somewhat dazed.

  "Ruth, Ruth," laughed her mother, "do you mean to say you have not hearda word of all my glowing compliments on your rowing?"

  "And I was telling your mother that in all modesty I was considered afine oar at my Alma Mater."

  "And I hazarded the suggestion," added Mrs. Levice, "that as it is sucha beautiful night, there is nothing to prevent your taking a little row,and then each can judge of the other's claim to superiority?"

  "My claim has never been justly established," said Ruth. "I have neverallowed any one to usurp my oars."

  "As yet," corrected Kemp. "Then will you wrap something about you andcome down to the river?"

  "Certainly she will," answered her mother; "run in and get some wraps,Ruth."

  "You will come too, Mamma?"

  "Of course; but considering Dr. Kemp's length, a third in your littleboat will be the proverbial trumpery. Still, I suppose I can rely on youtwo crack oarsmen, though you know the slightest tremble in the boat inthe fairest weather is likely to create a squall on my part."

  If Dr. Kemp wished to row, he should row; and since the Jewish Mrs.Grundy was not on hand, anything harmlessly enjoyable was permissible.

  Ruth went indoors. This was certainly something she had not bargainedfor. How could her mother be so blind as not to know or feel her desireto evade Dr. Kemp? She felt a positive contempt for herself that hispresence should affect her as it did; she dared not look at him lest herheart should flutter to her eyes. Probably the display amused him. Whatwas she to him anyway but a girl with whom he could flirt in hisidle moments? Well (with a passionate fling of her arms), she wouldextinguish her uncontrollable little beater for the nonce; she wouldmeet and answer every one of his long glances in kind.

  She wound a black lace shawl around her head, and with some wraps forher mother, came out.

  "Hadn't you better put something over your shoulders?" he askeddeferentially as she appeared.

  "And disgust the night with lack of appreciation?"

  She turned to a corner of the porch and lifted a pair of oars to hershoulder.

  "Why," he said in surprise, coming toward her, "you keep your oars athome?"

  "On the principle of 'neither a borrower nor a lender be;' we find itsaves both time and spleen."

  She held them lightly in place on her shoulder.

  "Allow me," he said, placing his hand upon the oars.

  A spirit of contradiction took possession of her.

  "Indeed, no," she answered; "why should I? They are not at all heavy."

  He gently lifted her resisting fingers one by one and raised the broadbone of contention to his shoulder. Then without a look he turned andoffered his arm to Mrs. Levice.

  The crickets chirped in the hedges; now and then a firefly flashedbefore them; the trees seemed wrapped in silent awe at the majesty ofthe bewildering heavens. As they approached the river, the faint susurracame to them, mingled with the sound of a guitar and some one singing inthe distance.

  "Others are enjoying themselves also," he remarked as their feet touchedthe pebbly beach. A faint crescent moon shone over the water. Ruth wentstraight to the little boat aground on the shore.

  "It looks like a cockle-shell," he said, as he put one foot in aftershoving it off. "Will you sit in the stern or the bow, Mrs. Levice?"

  "In the bow; I dislike to see dangers before we come to them."

  He helped her carefully to her place; she thanked him laughingly for hisexceptionally strong arm, and he turned to Ruth.

  "I was waiting for you to move from my place," she said in defiantmischief, standing motionless beside the boat.

  "Your place? Ah, yes; now," he said, holding out
his hand to her, "willyou step in?"

  She took his hand and stepped in; they were both standing, and as thelittle bark swayed he made a movement to catch hold of her.

  "You had better sit down," he said, motioning to the rower's seat.

  "And you?" she asked.

  "I shall sit beside you and use the other oar," he answerednonchalantly, smiling down at her.

  With a half-pleased feeling of discomfiture Ruth seated herself in thestern, whereupon Kemp sat in the contested throne.

  "You will have to excuse my turning my back on you, Mrs. Levice," hesaid pleasantly.

  "That is no hindrance to my volubility, I am glad to say; a back is notvery inspiring or expressive, but Ruth can tell me when you look boredif I wax too discursive."

  It was a tiny boat; and seated thus, Kemp's knees were not half a footfrom Ruth's white gown.

  "Will you direct me?" he said, as he swept around. "I have not rowed onthis river for two or three years."

  "You can keep straight ahead for some distance," she said, leaning backin her seat.

  She could not fail to notice the easy motion of his figure as he rowedlightly down the river. His flannel shirt, low at the throat, showed hisstrong white neck rising like a column from his broad shoulders, andhis dark face with the steady gray eyes looked across at her with gravesweetness. She would have been glad enough to be able to turn from theshort range of vision between them; but the stars and river afforded hergood vantage-ground, and on them she fixed her gaze.

  Mrs. Levice was in bright spirits, and seemed striving to outdothe night in brilliancy. For a while Kemp maintained a sort ofRoland-for-an-Oliver conversation with her; but with his eyescontinually straying to the girl before him, it became ratherdifficult. Some merry rowers down the river were singing college songsharmoniously; and Mrs. Levice soon began to hum with them, her voicegradually subsiding into a faint murmur. The balmy, summer-freightedair made her feel drowsy. She listened absently to Ruth's occasionalwarnings to Kemp, and to the swift dip of the oars.

  "Now we have clear sailing for a stretch," said Ruth, as they came to abroad curve. "Did you think you were going to be capsized when we shotover that snag, Mamma?"

  She leaned a little farther forward, looking past Kemp.

  "Mamma!"

  Then she straightened herself back in her seat. Kemp, noting the suddenflush that had rushed to and from her cheek, turned halfway to look atMrs. Levice. Her head was leaning against the flag-staff; her eyes wereclosed, in the manner of more wary chaperones,--Mrs. Levice slept.

  Dr. Kemp moved quietly back to his former position.

  Far across the river a woman's silvery voice was singing the sweet oldlove-song, "Juanita;" overhead, the golden crescent moon hung low fromthe floor of heaven pulsating with stars; it was a passionate, tendernight, and Ruth, with her face raised to the holy beauty, was a dreamypart of it. Against the black lace about her head her face shone likea cameo, her eyes were brown wells of starlight; she scarcely seemed tobreathe, so still she sat, her slender hands loosely clasped in her lap.

  Dr. Kemp sat opposite her--and Mrs. Levice slept.

  Slowly and more slowly sped the tiny boat; long gentle strokes touchedthe water; and presently the oars lay idle in their locks,--they wereunconsciously drifting. The water dipped and lapped about the sides; thetender woman's voice across the water stole to them, singing of love;their eyes met--and Mrs. Levice slept.

  Ever, in the after time, when Ruth heard that song, she was againrocking in the frail row-boat upon the lovely river, and a man's deep,grave eyes held hers as if they would never let them go, till under hisworshipping eyes her own filled with slow ecstatic tears.

  "Doctor," called a startled voice, "row out; I am right under thetrees."

  They both started. Mrs. Levice was, without doubt, awake. They haddrifted into a cove, and she was cowering from the over-hanging boughs.

  "I do not care to be Absalomed; where were your eyes, Ruth?" shecomplained, as Kemp pushed out with a happy, apologetic laugh. "Did notyou see where we were going?"

  "No," she answered a little breathlessly; "I believe I am growingfar-sighted."

  "It must be time to sight home now," said her mother; "I am quitechilly."

  In five minutes Kemp had grounded the boat and helped Mrs. Levice out.When he turned for Ruth, she had already sprung ashore and had startedup the slope; for the first time the oars lay forgotten in the bottom ofthe boat.

  "Wait for us, Ruth," called Mrs. Levice, and the slight white figurestood still till they came up.

  "You are so slow," she said with a reckless little laugh; "I feel as ifI could fly home."

  "Are you light-headed, Ruth?" asked her mother, but the girl had fallenbehind them. She could not yet meet his eyes again.

  "Come, Ruth, either stay with us or just ahead of us." Mrs. Levice,awake, was an exemplary duenna.

  "There is nothing abroad here but the stars," she answered, flittingbefore them.

  "And they are stanch, silent friends on such a night," remarked Kemp,softly.

  She kept before them till they reached the gate, and stood inside of itas they drew near.

  "Then you will not be home till Monday," he said, taking Mrs. Levice'shand and raising his hat; "and I am off on the early morning train.Good-by."

  As she turned in at the gate, he held out his hand to Ruth. His fingersclosed softly, tightly over hers; she heard him say almost inaudibly,--

  "Till Monday."

  She raised her shy eyes for one brief second to his glowing ones; and hepassed, a tall, dark figure, down the shadowy road.

  When Mr. Levice returned from his game of whist, he quietly opened thedoor of his daughter's bedroom and looked in. All was well; the wolf haddeparted, and his lamb slept safe in the fold.

  But in the dark his lamb's eyes were mysteriously bright. Sleep! Withthis new crown upon her! Humble as the beautiful beggar-maid must havefelt when the king raised her, she wondered why she had been thuschosen by one whom she had deemed so immeasurably above her. And thisis another phase of woman's love,--that it exalts the beloved beyond allreasoning.