CHAPTER XXXIX
UNDISTURBED LETTUCE
When Ralph Haverley came in from his long moonlight ramble, he was sohappy that he went to bed and slept as sound as rock. But before heclosed his eyes he said to himself,--
"I will do that to-morrow; the very first thing to-morrow."
But people do not always do what they intend to do the very first thingin the morning, and this was the case with Ralph. La Fleur, who knew thata letter was expected, sent Mike early to the post-office, and soon afterbreakfast Ralph had a letter from Miriam. It was a long one; it gave afull account of the drowning accident and of some of her own experiences,but it said not one word of the message sent by Miss Panney, to whomMiriam alluded very slightly. It gave, however, the important informationthat Mrs. Bannister had been so affected by the dreadful scene on thebeach that she declared she could not go into the ocean again, nor evenbear the sight of it, and that, therefore, they were all coming home onthe morrow.
"She will be here to-night," said Ralph, who knew the trains fromBarport.
As soon as he had read the letter Ralph went to look for Cicely. She hadcome down late to breakfast, and he had been surprised at her sobernessof manner. On the other hand, Mrs. Drane had been surprised at Ralph'ssoberness of manner, and she found herself in the unusual position of theliveliest person at the breakfast table.
"People who have heard such good news ought to be very happy," shethought, but she made no remark on the subject.
It was Cicely's custom to spend the brief time she allowed herselfbetween breakfast and work, upon the lawn, or somewhere out of doors,but to-day Ralph searched in vain for her. He met La Fleur, however,and that conscientious cook, in her most respectful manner, asked him,if he happened to meet Miss Cicely, would he be so good as to give hera message?
"But I don't know where she is," said Ralph. "I have a letter toshow her."
La Fleur wished very much to know what was in the letter, which, shesupposed, explained the mystery of the telegrams, but at a moment likethis she would not ask.
"She is in the garden, sir," she said. "I asked her to gather me somelettuce for luncheon. She does it so much more nicely than I could do it,or Mike. She selects the crispest and most tender leaves of that crimpedand curled lettuce you all like so much, and I thought I would ask you,sir, if you met her, to be so very kind as to tell her that I would likea few sprigs of parsley, just a very few. I would go myself, sir, butthere is something cooking which I cannot leave, and I beg your pardonfor troubling you and will thank you, sir, very much if you--"
It was not worth while for her to finish her sentence, for Ralph hadgone.
He found Cicely just as she stooped over the lettuce bed. She rose with aface like a peach blossom.
"I have a letter from Miriam," he said, "I will give it to you presently,and you may read the whole of it, but I must first tell you that she,with Mrs. Bannister and Dora, are coming home to-day. They will reachThorbury late this afternoon. Isn't that glorious?"
All the delicate hues of the peach blossom went out of Cicely's face.That everlasting person had come up again, and now he called her Dora,and it was glorious to have her back! She did not have to say anything,for Ralph went rapidly on.
"But before they leave Barport," he said, "I want to send Miriam atelegram. If Mike takes it immediately to Thorbury, she will get itbefore her train leaves."
"A telegram!" exclaimed Cicely, but she did not look up at him.
"Yes," said he; "I want to telegraph to Miriam that you and I areengaged to be married. I want her to know it before she gets here. ShallI send it?"
She raised to him a face more brightly hued than any peachblossom--rich with the color of the ripe fruit. Ten minutes after this,two wood doves, sitting in a tree to the east of the lettuce bed, andlooking westward, turned around on their twig and looked toward theeast. They were sunny-minded little creatures, and did not like to becast into the shade.
As they went out of the garden gate, Cicely said, "You have always been avery independent person and accustomed to doing very much as you please,haven't you?"
"It has been something like that," answered Ralph; "but why?"
"Only this," she said; "would you begin already to chafe and rebel if Iwere to ask you not to send that telegram? It would be so much nicer totell her after she gets back."
"Chafe!" exclaimed Ralph, "I should think not. I will do exactly asyou wish."
"You are awfully good," said Cicely, "but you must agree with me moreprudently now that we are out here, and I will not tell mother untilMiriam knows."
A gray old chanticleer, who was leading his hens across the yard,stopped at this moment and looked at Ralph, but it is not certain thathe sniffed.
Ralph knew very well when people, coming from Barport, should arrive inThorbury, but his mind was so occupied that when he went to the barn, heforgot so many things he should have done at the house, and he ranbackward and forward so often, and waited so long for an opportunity tosay something he had just thought of, to somebody who did not happen tobe ready to listen at the precise moment he wished to speak, that he hadjust stepped into the gig to go to the station for his sister, whenMiriam arrived alone in the Bannister carriage. Not finding anybody atthe station to meet her, they had sent her on.
Mrs. Drane was not the liveliest person at the dinner table, and shewondered much how Ralph and Cicely, who had been so extremely sober atbreakfast time, should now be so hilarious. The arrival of Miriam seemedhardly reason enough for such intemperate gayety.
As for Miriam, she overflowed with delight. The ocean was grand, butCobhurst was Cobhurst. "There was nothing better about my trip than theopportunity it gave me of coming back to my home. I never did thatbefore, you know, my children."
This she said loftily from her seat at the head of the table. Dinner waslate and lasted long, and Ralph had gone into the room on the lowerfloor, in which he kept his cigars, and which he called his office, whenMiriam followed him. There was no unencumbered chair, and she seatedherself on the edge of the table.
"Ralph," said she, "I want to say something to you, now, while it isfresh in my mind. I think we can sometimes understand our affairs betterwhen we go away from them and are not mixed up in them. I have beenthinking a great deal since I have been at Barport about our affairshere, not only as they are but as they may be, and most likely will be,and I have come to the conclusion that some of these days, Ralph, youwill want to be married."
"Do you mean me?" cried Ralph. "You amaze me!"
"Oh, you are only a man, and you need not be amazed," said his sister."This is the way I have been thinking of it: if you ever do want to getmarried, I hope you will not marry Dora Bannister. I used sometimes tothink that that might be a good thing to do, though I changed my mindvery often about it, but I do not think so, now, at all. Dora is anawfully nice girl in ever so many ways, but since I have been at Barportwith her, I am positive that I do not want you to marry her."
Ralph heaved a long sigh and put his hands in his pockets.
"Bless my soul!" he exclaimed, "this is very discouraging; if I do notmarry Dora, who is there that I can marry?"
"You goose," said his sister, "there is a girl here, under your verynose, ever so much nicer and more suitable for you than Dora. If youmarry anybody, marry Cicely Drane. I have been thinking ever and ever somuch about her and about you, and I made up my mind to speak to you ofthis as soon as I got home, so that you might have a chance to thinkabout it before you should see Dora. Don't you remember what you used totell me about the time when you were obliged to travel so much, and how,when you had a seat to yourself in a car, and a crowd of people werecoming in, you used to make room for the first nice person you saw,because you knew you would have to have somebody sitting alongside ofyou, and you liked to choose for yourself? Now that is the way I feelabout your getting married; if you marry Cicely Drane, I shall feel safefor the rest of my life."
"Miriam!" exclaimed Ralph, "you astonish me by
the force of yourstatements. Wait here one moment," and he ran into the hall through whichhe had seen Cicely passing, and presently reappeared with her.
"Miss Drane," said he, "do you know that my sister thinks that I ought tomarry you?"
In an instant Miriam had slipped from the table to the floor.
"Good gracious, Ralph!" she cried. "What do you mean?"
"I am merely stating your advice," he answered; "and now, Miss Drane, howdoes it strike you?"
"Well," said Cicely, demurely, "if your sister really thinks we shouldmarry, I suppose--I suppose we ought to do it."
Miriam's eyes flashed from one to the other, then there were two girlishcries and a manly laugh, and in a moment Miriam and Cicely were in eachother's arms, while Ralph's arms were around them both.
"Now," said Cicely, when this group had separated itself into its severalparts, "I must run up and tell mother." And very soon Mrs. Draneunderstood why there had been sobriety at breakfast and hilarity atdinner. She was surprised, but felt she ought not to be; she was a littledepressed, but knew she would get over that.
La Fleur did not hear the news that night, but it was not necessary; shehad seen Ralph and Cicely coming through the garden gate without a leafof lettuce or a single sprig of parsley.
The Girl at Cobhurst Page 39