CHAPTER XL
ANGRY WAVES
The ocean rolled angrily on the beach, and Miss Panney walked angrilyon the beach, a little higher up, however, than the line to which theocean rolled.
The old lady was angrier than the ocean, and it was much more than merewind that made her storm waves roll. Her indignation was directed firstagainst Mrs. Bannister, that silly woman, who, by cutting short her stayat the seashore, had ruined Miss Panney's plans, and also against Ralph,who had not come to Barport as soon as he had received the telegram. Ifhe had arrived, the party might have stayed a little longer for his sake.Why he had not come she knew no more than she knew what she was going tosay to him in explanation of her message, and she cared as little for theone as for the other.
Her own visit to Barport had been utterly useless. She had spent moneyand time, she had tired herself, had been frightened anddisgusted,--all for nothing. She did not remember any of her plans thathad failed so utterly.
Meeting the bathing-master, she rolled in upon him some ireful waves,because he did not keep a boat outside the breakers to pick up people whomight be exhausted and in danger of drowning. In vain the man protestedthat ten thousand people had said that to him, before, and that the thingcould not be done, because so many swimmers would make for the boat andhang on to its sides, just to rest themselves until they were ready to goback. It would simply be a temptation to people to swim beyond thebreakers. She went on, in a voice that the noise of the surf could notdrown, to tell him that she hoped ten thousand more people would say thesame thing to him, and to declare that he ought to have several boatsoutside during bathing hours, so that people could cling to some of them,and so, perhaps, save themselves from exhaustion on their return, and sothat one, at least, could be kept free to succor the distressed. At lastthe poor man vowed that he acted under orders, and that, if she wanted topitch into anybody, she ought to pitch into the proprietors of the hotelwho employed him, and who told him what he must do.
Miss Panney accepted this advice; and if the sea had broken into theprivate office of that hotel, the owners and managers could not have hada worse time than they had during the old lady's visit. It may be statedthat for the remainder of the season two or three boats might always beseen outside the breakers during bathing hours at the Barport beach.
For the sake of appearances, Miss Panney did not leave Barportimmediately; for she did not wish her friends to think that she was awoman who would run after the Bannisters wherever they might please togo. But in a reasonable time she found herself in the Witton household,and the maid who had charge of her room had some lively minutes after thearrival of the old lady therein.
The next day she went to Thorbury to see what had happened, and chancedto spy Phoebe resting herself on a bench at the edge of the public green.Instantly the colored woman sprang to her feet, and began to explain toMiss Panney why she had not made her report before the latter set out onher journey.
"You see, ma'am, I hadn't no shoes as was fit for that long walk out inthe country, an' I had to take my best ones to the shoemaker; and thoughI did my best to make him hurry, it took him a whole day, an' so I had toput off going to Cobhurst, an' I've never got over my walk out thar yit.My j'ints has creaked ever sense."
"If you used them more, they would creak less," snapped Miss Panney. "Howare things going on at Cobhurst? What did you see there?"
"I seed a lot, an' I heard a lot," the colored woman answered. "Mike'spurty nigh starved, an' does his own washin'. An' things are in thatstate in the house that would make you sick, Miss Panney, if you couldsee them. What the rain doesn't wash goes dirty; an' as for that old cookthey've got, if she isn't drunk all the time, her mind's givin' way, an'I expect she'll end by pizenin' all of them. The vittles she gave me toeat, bein' nearly tired to death when I got thar, was sich that they giveme pains that I hain't got over yit. And what would have happened if I'deat a full meal, nobody knows."
"Get out with you," cried Miss Panney. "I don't want any more of yourjealousy and spite. If that woman gave you anything to eat, I expect itwas the only decently cooked thing you ever put into your mouth. Did yousee Mr. Haverley? Were the Drane women still there? How were they allgetting on together?"
Phoebe's eyes sparkled, and her voice took in a little shrillness.
"I was goin' to git the minister to write you a letter 'bout that, MissPanney," said she; "but you didn't tell me whar you was goin', nor giveme no money for stamps nor nothin'. But I kin say to you now that thatwoman, which some people may call a cook, but I don't, she told me,without my askin' a word 'bout nothin', that Mr. Hav'ley an' that littleMiss Drane was to be married in the fall, an' that they was goin' away,all of them, to the wife's mother's to live, bein' that that old farmout thar didn't pay to run, an' never would. I reckoned they'd git sickof it afore this, which I always said."
"Phoebe!" exclaimed Miss Panney, "I do not believe a word of all that!How dare you tell me such a lot of lies?"
Phoebe was getting very angry, though she did not dare to show it; butinstead of taking back anything she had said, she put on more lie-power.
"You may believe me, Miss Panney, or you needn't; that's just as youchoose," she said "but I can tell you more than I have told you, and thatis, that from what I've seen and heard, I believe Mr. Hav'ley an' MissDrane is married already, an' that they was only waitin' for theTolbridges to come home to send out the cards."
Miss Panney glared at the woman. "I tell you what I believe, and thatis that you never went to Cobhurst at all. You must tell me something,and you are making up the biggest story you can," and with this shemarched away.
"I reckon the next time she sends me on an arrand," thought Phoebe,whose face would have been very red if her natural color had notinterfered with the exhibition of such a hue, "she'll send me in a hack,and pay me somethin' for my time. I was bound to tell her 'zactly whatshe didn't want to hear, an' I reckon I done it, an' more'n that if shegets her back up 'bout this, an' goes out to Cobhurst, that old cook'llfind herself in hot water. It was mighty plain that she was dreadfulskeered for fear anybody would think thar was somethin' goin' on 'twixtthem two."
If Phoebe had been more moderate in her doubleheaded treachery, MissPanney might have been much disturbed by her news, but the story she hadheard was so preposterous that she really believed that the lazy coloredwoman had not gone to Cobhurst, and by the time she reached the Bannisterhouse her mind was cleared for the reception of fresh impressions.
She was fortunate enough to find Dora alone, and as soon as it wasprudent she asked her what news she had heard from Cobhurst. Dora waslooking her loveliest in an early autumn costume, and answered that shehad heard nothing at all, which surprised Miss Panney very much, for shehad expected that Miriam would have been to see Dora before this time.
"Common politeness would dictate that," said Miss Panney, "but I expectthat that child is so elated and excited by getting back to the head ofher household that everything else has slipped out of her mind. But ifyou two are such close friends, I don't think you ought to mind that sortof thing. If I were you, I would go out and see her. Eccentric peoplemust be humored."
"They needn't expect that from me," said Dora, a little sharply. "IfMiriam lived there by herself, I might go; but as it is, I shall not. Itis their duty to come here, and I shall not go there until they do."
Miss Panney drummed upon the table, but otherwise did not show herimpatience.
"We can never live the life we ought in this world, my dear," she said,"if we allow our sensitive fancies to interfere with the advancement ofour interests."
"Miss Panney," cried Dora, sitting upright in her chair, "do you meanthat I ought to go out there, and try to catch Ralph Haverley, no matterhow they treat me?"
"Yes," said Miss Panney, leaning back in her chair, "that is exactly whatI mean. There is no use of our mincing matters, and as I hold that it isthe duty of every young woman to get herself well married, I think it isyour duty to marry Mr. Haverley if you
can. You will never meet a manbetter suited to you, and who can use your money with as much advantageto yourself. I do not mean that you should go and make love to him, oranything of that sort. I simply mean that you should allow him to exposehimself to your influences."
"I shall do nothing of the kind!" cried Dora, her face in a flush; "if hewants that sort of exposure, let him come here. I don't know whether Iwant him to come or not. I am too young to be thinking of marryinganybody, and though I don't want to be disrespectful to you, Miss Panney,I will say that I am getting dreadfully tired of your continual harpingabout Ralph Haverley, and trying to make me push myself in front of himso that his lordship may look at me. If he had been at Barport, or therehad been any chance of his coming there, I should have suspected that youwent there for the express purpose of keeping us up to the work ofbecoming attached to each other. And I say plainly that I shall have nomore to do with exerting influence on him, through his sister or in anyother way. There are thousands of other men just as good as he is, andif I have not met any of them yet, I have no doubt I shall do so."
"Dora," said Miss Panney, speaking very gently, "you are wrong when yousay that there was no chance of Ralph's coming to Barport. If some thingshad not gone wrong, I have reason to believe he would have been therebefore you left, and I am quite sure that if you had stayed there untilnow, you would have been walking on the sands with him at this minute."
Dora looked at her in surprise, and the flush on her face subsided alittle.
"What do you mean?" she asked. "You do not think he would have gone thereon my account?"
"Yes, I do," said Miss Panney. "That is exactly what I mean, and now, mydear Dora, do not let--"
At this moment Mrs. Bannister walked into the room, and was very gladto see Miss Panney, and to know that she had returned in safety fromthe seashore.
When Dora went up to her room, after the visitor had gone, she shut thedoor and sat down to think.
"After all," she said to herself, "I do not believe much in the thousandother men. Not one of them is here, and none may ever come, and if Ralphreally did intend to come to me at the seashore, I wish we had stayedthere. It is such a good place to find out just how people feel."
In this frame of mind she sat and thought and thought, until a servant,who had been to the post office, came up and brought her a note fromMiriam Haverley.
The next morning Dora Bannister, in an open carriage, drawn by thefamily bays, appeared at the door of the Witton mansion. Miss Panney,with overshoes on and a little shawl about her, for the mornings werebeginning to be cool, was walking up and down between two rows ofold-fashioned boxwood bushes. She hurried forward, for she knew very wellthat Dora had not come to call on the Wittons.
"Miss Panney," said the young lady, "I am on my way to Cobhurst, and Ithought you might like to go there, and so if you choose, I shall be gladto take you with me."
"Now, my dear girl," said Miss Panney, "you are a trump. I always thoughtyou were, but I will not say anything more about that. I shall bedelighted to go with you, and we can talk on the way. If you will come inor take a seat on the piazza, I shall be ready in five minutes."
As Miss Panney busied herself preparing for the drive and the call, hermind was a great deal more active than her rapid fingers. She had beenintending to go to Cobhurst, but did not wish to do so until she haddecided what she should say to Ralph about the telegram she had sent him.Until that morning, this had given her very little concern, but as thetime approached when it would be absolutely necessary to speak upon thesubject, she found that she was a good deal concerned about it. She sawthat it was very important that nothing should be said to rouse Ralphinto opposition.
But now everything seemed bright and clear before her. After Dora,looking perfectly lovely, as she did this morning, had shone upon Ralphfor half an hour, or even less, the old lady felt that if the young manasked her any questions about her telegram she would not in the leastmind telling him how she came to send it, giving him, of course, aversion of her motive which would make him understand her anxioussolicitude, in case anything had happened to any one dear to him, thathis arrival should not be delayed an instant, as well as the sympatheticdelight she would have felt in witnessing the joy his presence in Barportwould cause to the dear ones, alive and well.
This somewhat complicated explanation might need policy and alteration,but Miss Panney now felt quite ready for anything Ralph might ask aboutthe telegram. If any one else asked any questions, she would answer ashappened to please her.
As they drove away Miss Panney immediately began to congratulate Dora onher return to her senses. She was in high good humor, "You ought to know,my dear, that if the loveliest woman in the world found herself stuck ina quagmire, it would be quite foolish for her to expect that the rightsort of man would come and pull her out. In all probability it would beprecisely the wrong sort of man who would do it. Consequently, it wouldbe wise in her if she saw the right sort of man going by, not only to lethim know that she was there, but to let him understand that she was worthpulling out. All women are born in a quagmire, and some are so anxious toget out that they take the first hand that is stretched toward them, andsome, I am sorry to say, never get out at all. But they are the wiseones who do not leave it to chance, who shall be their liberators. Numberyourself, my dear, among this happy class. I am so glad it is cool enoughthis morning for you to wear that lovely costume. It is as likely as notthat by tomorrow it will be too warm. All these little things tell, mychild, and I am glad to know that even the thermometer is your friend."
"I had a letter from Miriam yesterday afternoon," said Dora, "in whichshe told me that her brother Ralph is engaged to Miss Drane."
Miss Panney turned around like a weather vane struck by a squall. Sheseized the girl's arm with her bony fingers.
"What!" she exclaimed.
Ordinarily, the pain of the old lady's grasp would have made Dora wince,but she did not seem to feel it. Without the slightest sign of emotion inher face, she answered,--
"It is so. It happened while I was at Barport."
"Stop!" cried Miss Panney, in a voice that made the driver pull up hishorses with a jerk. In a moment she had stepped from the low carriage tothe ground, and with quick strides was walking back to the Witton house.Dora turned in the seat, looked after her, and laughed. It was a sudden,bitter laugh, which the circumstances made derisive.
Never before had Miss Panney's soul been so stung, burned, andlacerated, all at once, as by this laugh. But the sound had scarcelyleft Dora Bannister's lips when she bounded out of the carriage and ranafter the old lady. Throwing her arms around her neck, she kissed heron the cheek.
"I am awfully sorry I did that," she said, "and I beg your pardon. Idon't mind the thing a bit, and won't you let me take you home in thecarriage?"
Dora might as well have embraced a milestone and talked to it, forthe moment she could release herself, Miss Panney stalked awaywithout a word.
When she was again driving toward Cobhurst, Dora took from the front ofthe carriage a little hand mirror, and carefully arranged her hat, herfeathers, her laces and ribbons. Then having satisfied herself that herfeatures were in perfect order, she put back her glass.
"I am not going to let any of them see," she said, "that I mind it inthe least."
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