CHAPTER IX
It was decided that my husband and I should go to New York by motor,spending the night with his uncle, Peter and Sarah to join us thefollowing day, so that the last packing could be leisurely attended tobefore we sailed.
I had my farewells with father alone. Dr. Denton went in first andcame out looking more moved than I believed possible. If I could haveliked him at all, it would have been for his devotion to my father.
I can't write about how dear father was when he told me good-by.
John Denton went up to town with us. I begged him to, and he verynaturally attributed my nervousness and pallor to the long strain ofmy father's illness. He was very good to me.
Leaving my house, in a sense for the first time, and knowing it wouldbe months before I saw it again, I experienced a sinking of the heartthat was terrible. Not till then had I realized how much my home meantto me, how much freedom had been mine beneath it's little roof, howlovingly the friendly walls had safeguarded and sheltered me.
At the door, I clung first to Mrs. Goodrich and then, for a long,close moment, to Sarah. She seemed a rock of strength, the lastfamiliar landmark. But strong hands drew me away from her, andpresently I was in the closed car, and we were off for New York.
I had very little sensation: only a feeling of great numbness and aconsciousness that if I could know any emotion it would be that of aninfinite despair. I was dimly grateful that I need not go by train. Inthis, at least, they had humored me. All through the long ride, I sathuddled in the new furs which were Uncle John's wedding gift to me, myeyes closed, and my hand in John Denton's warm clasp. I did not hearwhat the two men said to one another. Possibly, when they spoke to me,I answered. I do not know.
Something of the terrifying maelstrom of the city traffic penetratedmy stupor as we came smoothly into town. It was all so new ... thenoise and rush and bewilderment of it. The lights were beginning toflare up all about me: faces seen in the crowds struck at me like ablow. Such hungry, restless, seeking faces.... But here and there, thehappy eyes of a girl clinging to a man's arm, or walking alone withher dreams, stood out for me, and brought the tears to my eyes.Wearily I thought, if I could only cry again--for it seemed so longsince I had known the release of tears.
I must have fainted when we reached the house, for the next thing Iremember is waking up in a great, wide bed, in a huge, high-ceilingedroom, with a kindly, round old woman fussing over me.
"You're to lie still, dearie," she said, as I tried to sit up, "andhave a bite of supper on a tray. 'Tis the Doctor's orders, ma'am," andshe smiled at me with a certain shy sweetness, and tucked a billowyeiderdown quilt more closely about my feet. I discovered then that Iwas undressed and surrounded by hot-water bottles.
I tried to thank her, but words were difficult. I was so very tired.
Someone knocked.
"It's himself, surely," said the old woman, as she hastened to open,and then stood aside, her hands beneath her apron, to let my husbandcome in. He thanked her, dismissed her, and came straight to mybedside, where he stood looking down at me.
I drew the clothes tight about my throat and looked at him mutely.
"How do you feel?" he asked, retrieving one of my submerged hands andplacing a steady finger on the pulse.
"Tired," I answered, and then, "Oh, Doctor Denton, when will Sarah behere?"
I knew quite well: but something unreasonable in me hoped that I hadslept a whole twenty-four hours away and that I would very soon hearher comforting step outside my door.
"Tomorrow," he answered, and added with a suspicion of a smile, "but Ithought we were agreed that Doctor Denton, as a form of address, istaboo, under the circumstances."
"William, then," I said, with a great weariness in my heart.
"Could you manage Bill?" he asked. "I have unpleasant associationswith my full name: it always reminds me of the woodshed, and myfather's strong right hand."
Absurdly enough, I heard my own voice saying solemnly:
"Father called me William, Mother called me Will, Sister called meWillie, but the fellers called me Bill."
I stopped suddenly, wondering if I were going quite mad. But therewas reassuring laughter in the eyes bent upon me.
"Exactly," he said, gravely.
I attempted to laugh. It was a very poor effort, and ended in tears.
Dr. Denton sat down on the bed and took me into his arms, pressing myhead against his shoulder. I didn't care. I cried there verycomfortably, for a long time.
"It's all right," I heard his voice saying, coming, so it seemed, froma great distance. "It's all right. You'll feel lots better for it,Mavis."
After a while, I dried my eyes and lay back against the pillows again.The intolerable burden about my heart had eased a little, in somemiraculous manner.
"And now," announced my husband, "Mrs. Cardigan is going to bring yousome supper. After that, she will make you comfortable for the night,and you are to drink what I send you. Uncle John sends his love andthe demand that you pour his coffee for him in the morning, or, if youdo not feel strong enough, you are to stay in bed, he says, and hewill come up and pour yours! And I shall be next door to you, if youwant anything in the night. But I am sure that you are going to sleepsoundly."
He rose and looked down on me once more.
"Good night," he said. "Sleep well."
"Good night," I answered, "Dr.--B-B-Bill!"
His eyes twinkled, just for a moment.
"Good night," he responded, "Miss--M-M-Mavis!"
He opened the door for Mrs. Cardigan and her tray, stood aside, wavedto me once, and was gone. All the way down the hall I heard himsinging: "You are old, Father William" in a pleasant, gay baritone.
Suddenly I realized I was hungry.
I awoke the following morning feeling almost happy. There was awonderful sense of adventure in looking out of my windows over thegrey city streets, in hearing the hurrying footsteps go past me. Somany people! So many sorrows and joys passing beneath my window, somany eager feet going out to meet the day! I felt very small, almostinsignificant, very unimportant.
"It's like an angel you're looking today, Mrs. Denton!" said Mrs.Cardigan amiably, as she brought me my breakfast, with Uncle Johnfollowing hard on her heels.
"And it's blushing she is!" added the honest creature in amazement.
Uncle John laid his hand on the shoulder of the old woman who had beennurse and housekeeper and almost-mother to him for thirty years.
"Run off with you, Mary," he said, laughing. "Mrs. Denton isn't usedto blarney!"
"And her with the fine young husband!" said Mrs. Cardigan in obviousastonishment as she backed to the door.
Uncle John looked at me with laughing eyes: but I could not meet hisglance.
The rest of the day is more or less of a blur to me now. Sarah came,with Peter and Wiggles. It was a matter for debate, which of the twolast mentioned was the more excited. But it is certain that Petertalked more. His ideas of Cuba were wonderful and strange, and it wasonly by dint of dire threats of being left on the dock that we finallypersuaded him to go to bed.
The following morning, February tenth, with the thermometer flirtingwith zero, we sailed for Cuba.
Sarah and I had connecting cabins: and I bribed a blonde, friendlysteward to let me conceal Wiggles behind locked doors and thus keephim with us. On the other side of me, Dr. Denton was housed withPeter. All the cabins were full of flowers and fruit and books, and Iam sure that, although I may have concealed it better, I was quite asexcited as Peter and the pup.
It was, they tell me, a rough passage. Somehow, I didn't seem to mind.To lie in a deck-chair, muffled to the eyes, and to watch the oceanseemed all that I wanted in life. I never tired of it. Grey and greenand blue, as the fog or the sun caught it, there was never anything aswonderful as my first sight of the sea. I was even glad of the stormsthat delayed us longer than usual. For, even beyond Cape Hatteras, wehad wind, and snow and cold. And then came a day when, little bylittle, people b
egan to crawl greenly up from their cabins, shed theirsweaters, and take an interest in life. Sarah among them. Poor dear,she had succumbed almost before we left the dock! Every dip of theboat, every rising and falling swell was met by her with the gloomyannouncement that she wanted to die. Once, when I peered in at her, Ifound my husband sitting by her berth and answering quite gravely, herinnumerable questions as to how they conducted burials at sea. Werethey conducted "with decent Christian rites?" she was demandingweakly.
As I walked the deck with him, braced against the salt wind, my hairflying under my fur cap,
"You shouldn't tease Sarah!" I said indignantly.
"Shouldn't I?" he asked, forcibly restraining Peter from going overthe rail--shouting, "I see a mermaid, Aunt Mavis!" "Perhaps not. Butto the good sailor, seasickness is always a matter, inexplicable andhumorous."
"By the way, I'm glad," he continued, "that you've stood the trip sowell. It would be a pity," said he pensively, "to have injected intothe romance of a honeymoon the very mundane element of mal-de-mer...."
I turned on my heel to leave him, but reckoned without the tremendouswave which swung lazily up to the boat, smote it, held it suspended abreathless moment, and then let it down again with unparalleledsuddenness. My husband's arm intervened between me and the rail,checking my mad career in mid-air.
"Steady on," he said. "We've not reached tropical waters yet."
There was nothing to do but take his proffered arm and walk on, inhaughty silence.
We sat at the Captain's table, and for the greater part of the trip weand the Captain sat there alone. No, not quite alone, for at theCaptain's right sat the prettiest girl I have ever seen. We met herthe first day out, and it was not long before she had attached herselfto our party. Peter, always susceptible to beauty, caused me not a fewpangs of jealousy before the trip was over. And Miss Mercedes Howell,for such was her mismated name, seemed to find much in common with myhusband. She had thought at first, she confided to me naively, thatthe Doctor and I must be brother and sister despite the passengerlist, and at all events, we must have been married a long, longtime--was it not so, dear Mrs. Denton?
On my stately assurance that I had been married less than a week, herenormous black eyes flew open to their widest. I changed the subject.
Miss Howell, so her vivacious chatter informed us, was returning toHavana after a period of college. I gathered that by the edict of thefaculty she had gone through Vassar in two years instead of theprescribed four.
"Oh, but it was dull," she told us at the table, with melting,melancholy eyes. "No young men! Nothing! Just stupid books andrules--rules--rules!! It was like prison! Imagine!"
And she looked brightly about the board for sympathy. If I had amomentary sense of sympathy, it was for the faculty, but evidently myhusband and the Captain felt otherwise.
Mercedes, as she insisted I should call her, extending the courtesy tothe entire family, and, as a matter of course, addressing me as Mavisand the remainder of the party as Peter and Bill, was the daughter ofa wealthy American, settled in Cuba with a Spanish wife. She wastwenty, and on returning to Cuba, was to make her debut. I wastremendously interested by her vivid account of Cuban Society, andwent to bed each night with my head a whirl of horse races, andparties and country clubs and motor trips.
Her chaperone being confined to her cabin, Mercedes found that, afterI had retired it was quite providential that she should keep "Billy"pleasantly occupied on deck until such time as she should elect to goto bed. I must say that my husband advanced no serious objections. Andwhen we parted on the docks at Havana, Mercedes escaped from her wanand weary attendant long enough to assure us all of her undyingaffection and to impart to us the pleasing information that Guayabal,whither we were bound, was quite near Havana, and that we couldexpect to see her often. I am afraid I was not very cordial. She wasrather a dear, and superlatively, almost superfluously, pretty, butshe made my head ache, and beside her youth and effervescence I feltcuriously old.
Entering the harbor was something I shall never forget. The blue waterand the sun on the white and mauve and pink houses, and the shiningfortress of Morro castle rising up from the bay. Bill told mesomething of its history, as we leaned over the rail and watched theapproach. And a sense of horror took hold of me, in the warmth andsunlight, as I thought of the torture chamber and the silenced screamsof the prisoners....
And that is why, I suppose, my first impression of Cuba was one ofbeauty and cruelty, warmth and color and the dark, swift treachery ofby-gone ages.
The landing, the inspection, the docks, passed in a blur. Sarah, paleand miserable, sat on a trunk with Peter and watched her aliensurroundings with unfriendly eyes. But it was not long before we werehustled away and into a long, luxurious open car, driven by a lean,hawk-eyed person who greeted us in an unmistakable Yankee twang, blesshim, and seemed unfeignedly glad to see us.
"This is Silas, Mavis," my husband informed me, "chauffeurextraordinary, Jack-of-all-trades, and overseer-in-particular to myfriend, Harry Reynolds. And this, Silas," he said, quite impressively,"is Mrs. Denton!"
I shook hands and presented Sarah, who brightened visibly at thehome-touch, and after we were settled, with Peter and Wiggles andinnumerable bags stowed in the front seat with Silas, I drew a deepbreath and watched Havana slide by, gay with color, its narrow streetscrowded, under a heavenly blue sky.
We ran along the low sea-wall, and passing parks and wonderful stoneedifices which seemed too fairy-like to be called houses, we were soonleaving the outskirts far behind us. Before us stretched a long, wide,white road, thick with fine, sharp dust.
"We're climbing," said my husband, "you'll notice the change of airsoon, for Guayabal is in a mountain district."
I hardly heard him. I was too busy watching the various family groupsas we went through the villages. It was all so incongruous: here, amarvellous house that might have belonged to some foreignPrince--there, huddled at its very gate, a cluster of huts, thatched,and sun-baked; and brown babies all over the landscape, very naked,very dirty and, from a distance at least, wholly enchanting. And thenthe trees! The tall, royal palms, with the afternoon wind in them!
"Oh-h!" I said, as we passed a clump of wonderful scarlet blossoms,"what is it?"
Sarah was exclaiming too, sitting perfectly upright and rigid besideme.
"Hibiscus," answered our companion. "You'll find lots of it where weare going."
The villages went by. A crimson sun was glowing over the palms, andalmost before I had seen it, it was gone, and a violet after-glow wascoloring distant hilltops. I clasped my hands in my lap and wonderedif ever there had been anything as lovely and remote. And it was witha sense of absolute shock that I heard and saw Silas snap on thelights of the car and realized that now the after-glow had gone andthat the heavy Southern night had closed in around us.
"Why, there isn't any twilight," I said, in childish disappointment.
"Not here," answered my husband, "Nature strikes suddenly and swiftlyin the tropics. She has no halftones, no compromise...."
Even in the dark I could feel his glance at me. I said nothing.
When we entered the village of Guayabal and drove up the windingroadway through the gates and into the drive, the stars were shining.Very close they seemed, and tremendous--"as big as dinner plates," asSarah put it to me afterwards, with obvious disapproval. And they werewarm, almost fragrant, I fancied, unlike our cold, high, impersonalstars of the North. They frightened me....
The lights shone out from a low, long house as the car stopped under aportico. Two smiling Chinese housemen were standing, ready to take ourbags, and my heart sank as I thought of what Sarah--who contributes soreligiously to foreign missions--must be thinking. It was with relief,therefore, that I saw the unmistakable Hibernian face of the cook atthe door. The domestic staff consisted then, of Wing and Fong andNorah; and I blessed the Reynolds, that, in assembling their householdLares and Penates, they had included something white and clean andvery cordial
to preside over the kitchen, for I feared for Sarah'speace of mind....
Peter, tired and perhaps somewhat frightened by the strangeness and bythe yellow hands raised to lift him down from the car, whimpered alittle, and my husband, jumping out, took the child in his arms andturned to me,
"Welcome," he said, with a certain dignity, "to the Palms."
It was the loveliest house. Even Sarah was moved to favorable comment,and Wiggles went quite mad. We entered through a screened,tile-floored verandah, lamp-lighted, and bright with wicker-ware, toan enormous room. The walls were panelled in dark wood, the floorred-tiled, the ceiling raftered, and it was wide and high and longbeyond my wildest dreams of any room. There were tables and books andmyriad comfortable chairs all about, and at the far end, a hugefireplace, wherein a little red fire burned comfortably. For as thenight came, so came the sudden amazing chill after the day's heat, andI found the warmth and sight of the fire very gratifying. The room wasliving and dining room in one, Norah explained to me, and showed mehard by the pantry door, the table laid for two. And after my firstcuriosity had subsided, she took me to my room.
It was many-windowed, and all the windows were barred. Three red stepsled up to the alcove where a great bed was set, under an age-oldcrucifix. And it was gay with chintz and dimities, while against mywindows a bourginvilla vine whispered in the wind.
Peter and Sarah were next door, with a bath between, and across theway, my stranger-husband had his own room and bath, as big and odd anddelightful as mine. I could hardly sit down or let Sarah brush my hairor even wash the dust of the journey from me for excitement.
Peter, soon undressed and sitting up in bed with a big bowl of breadand milk, was trying heroically to keep his eyes open. I heard hisprayer, answered half a thousand questions as best I could, left himsleeping quietly, and went in search of my--host.
I found him, in a dinner jacket, at the piano, playing something verysoftly, and with his eyes half-closed. When he heard my step on thetiles, he jumped up.
"I didn't know you played," I said politely, glad that Sarah hadpersuaded me to change, and conscious of how very becoming the newmauve voile must be.
"I have a number of accomplishments," he answered irritatingly.
I stood for a moment, by the fireplace, the mantel high above my head.
"This is a wonderful house," I said, trying to make conversation."Tell me something about it."
Dr. Denton drew two big chairs close to the fire and for half an hourtold me of his friend, Harry Reynolds, and his delicate little wife,of how they had come to Cuba and built this place of dreams and sentfor Silas from Vermont to come and take care of it.
"It is only about a hundred acres," said my companion, "mostly insugar cane. But Reynolds has plenty of money and they were very happyhere. When the youngest boy died of fever, Mrs. Reynolds couldn'tstand it any longer. The place had too many associations. So theyleft, last summer, keeping the servants on, for Harry had to makeseveral flying trips back and forth. And he was glad to let us havethe house for a time, until he decided what to do with it. His wifeswears she will never come here again: and yet, they are reluctant tosell it. I have spent a number of happy holidays here and so ... well,it was all most opportune and providential ... and I am convincedthat the climate will be admirable for you."
He was speaking in his professional tone, and I, nervous andill-at-ease, was glad to talk of my returning health and of otherprosaic matters.
"When you are rested," he said, "in a day or two, we must go intoHavana--you will want an account opened there at one of the banks."
That reminded me of something that had been troubling me.
"But it is not my money," I began rather abruptly, and stopped.
"It is," he assured me, "Your father has been very generous with youand you need feel under no obligations to me--unless you object tohaving me play the host a little until--later."
I didn't know what to answer, and blessed Fong's sleek black head, asslippered and silent, he slid in to announce dinner.
Norah had outdone herself for the "new Missis." And it was pleasant inthe softly lighted room, with the candles burning on the table,shining across delicate old china and worn silver.
My husband exerted himself to be amusing. Our talk was all give andtake, and there were even laughter awaking echoes in the room.
Dinner over, after I had made a face over the strong Cuban, andBill--it was still so difficult to call him that--had sent out word toNorah that hereafter we would drink the sort of beverage I had beenaccustomed to, he went to the piano again, and with a littlesnub-nosed pipe between his teeth, sang ridiculous Bab ballads andplayed enchanting snatches of melody while, with Wiggles on my lap, Idreamed before the fire.
Father would have loved it.... I missed him terribly.
The music stopped.
"Mavis...." he was beside me, something in his hand. I turned,startled.
"I didn't give you a wedding present," he said, half-smiling, "butbefore we left I had just time to have this made for you."
I took the small, black leather case from his hand and opened it. Myfather's face looked back at me, wonderfully living. Almost it seemedas if the gentle, strong mouth would smile and speak.
"I had it painted before--before the tide turned," said Bill, "fromthe picture he gave me."
I closed my hands upon the miniature and my eyes against the tears.
"You are very good," I said falteringly. "I--you couldn't have givenme anything I could have cared for more."
He stood, his broad shoulders squared against the mantel, and lookedat me gravely.
"I hope," he said and stopped. Then, very evenly, he went on, "I hopeyou will try to be happy here, Mavis."
Happy! A sudden revulsion of feeling came over me. What use had I forhappiness? I had been almost stupefied, like an animal in the sun,dreaming vaguely before the fire. But now....
"I will try to be--content," I told him.
His eyes hardened, grew keen and cold again.
"Thank you," he said, not quite sincerely.
We were silent a moment, until Silas came in to get the orders forthe following day. I hardly heard the voices, talking so near me. Itmattered so little what they, or anyone, said. I thought of GreenHill, of Peter asleep near me.... I thought of father, in his bigwoods, his old strength coming back to him ... and I thought of theletter that had reached me on my wedding day ... my first love letter.I had not answered it. For me, no "lyric hour" could exist. No, nornot even the dream of one. Uncle John, I thought, would have toldRichard Warren by now that I was married. Mrs. William Denton....
My thoughts blurred into a half-dream. I was on a ship. SomewhereMercedes Howell was standing. I heard her calling from far off,"Billy, Billy!"
I awoke suddenly. Silas had gone and my husband was standing near me,
"You called me, Mavis," he was saying.
I looked at him, at the great, strange room, confused and half asleep.
"I was dreaming," I said, and then, "a nightmare."
"Oh, I see!" he laughed a little. "You look like a child," he saidslowly, "with the firelight on your yellow hair and that flush in yourcheeks."
I rose, tumbling Wiggles unceremoniously to the floor.
"Good-night," I said.
"Good-night," he answered, his hands deep in his pockets, and then, asI turned, "Sleep well, my little Make-Believe-Wife!"
Mavis of Green Hill Page 9
