CHAPTER IV.
BEGINNINGS.
How far Watts was confining himself to facts in the foregoing dialogueis of no concern, for the only point of value was that Peter wasinvited, without regard to whether Watts first asked Mr. Pierce, or Mr.Pierce first asked Watts. A letter which the latter wrote to MissPierce, as soon as it was settled that Peter should go, is of moreimportance, and deserves quotation in full:
JUNE 7TH.
MY DEAR HELEN--
Between your Pater and my Peter, it has taken an amount of diplomacy to achieve the scheme we planned last summer, which would be creditable to Palmerston at his palmiest and have made Bismarck even more marked than he is. But the deed, the mighty deed is done, and June twenty-ninth will see chum and me at the Shrubberies "if it kills every cow in the barn," which is merely another way of saying that in the bright lexicon of youth, there's no such word as fail.
Now a word as to the fellow you are so anxious to meet. I have talked to you so much about him, that you will probably laugh at my attempting to tell you anything new. I'm not going to try, and you are to consider all I say as merely a sort of underlining to what you already know. Please remember that he will never take a prize for his beauty--nor even for his grace. He has a pleasing way with girls, not only of not talking himself, but of making it nearly impossible for them to talk. For instance, if a girl asks me if I play croquet, which by the way, is becoming very _passe_ (three last lines verge on poetry) being replaced by a new game called tennis, I probably say, "No. Do you?" In this way I make croquet good for a ten minutes' chat, which in the end leads up to some other subject. Peter, however, doesn't. He says "No," and so the girl can't go on with croquet, but must begin a new subject. It is safest to take the subject-headings from an encyclopaedia, and introduce them in alphabetical order. Allow about ninety to the hour, unless you are brave enough to bear an occasional silence. If you are, you can reduce this number considerably, and chum doesn't mind a pause in the least, if the girl will only look contented. If she looks worried, however, Peter gets worried, too. Just put the old chap between you and your mamma at meals, and pull him over any rough spots that come along. You, I know, will be able to make it easy for him. Neglect me to any extent. I shan't be jealous, and shall use that apparent neglect as an excuse for staying on for a week after he goes, so as to have my innings. I want the dear old blunderbuss to see how nice a really nice girl can be, so do your prettiest to him, for the sake of
WATTS CLARKSON D'ALLOI.
When Watts and Peter saved the "cows in the barn" by stepping off thetrain on June 29th, the effect of this letter was manifest. Watts waspromptly bestowed on the front seat of the trap with Mr. Pierce, whilePeter was quickly sitting beside a girl on the back seat. Of course anintroduction had been made, but Peter had acquired a habit of notlooking at girls, and as a consequence had yet to discover how far MissPierce came up to the pleasant word-sketch Watts had drawn of her.Indeed, Peter had looked longingly at the seat beside Mr. Pierce, andhad attempted, in a very obvious manner, though one which seemed to himthe essence of tact and most un-apparent, to have it assigned to him.But two people, far his superior in natural finesse and experience, haddecided beforehand that he was to sit with Helen, and he could notresist their skilful manoeuvres. So he climbed into place, hoping thatshe wouldn't talk, or if that was too much to expect, that at leastWatts would half turn and help him through.
Neither of these fitted, however, with Miss Pierce's plans. She gavePeter a moment to fit comfortably into his seat, knowing that if sheforced the running before he had done that, he would probably sit awryfor the whole drive. Then: "I can't tell you how pleased we all are overWatts's success. We knew, of course, he could do it if he cared to, buthe seemed to think the attempt hardly worth the making, and so we didnot know if he would try."
Peter breathed more easily. She had not asked a question, and theintonation of the last sentence was such as left him to infer that itwas not his turn to say something; which, Peter had noticed, was the wayin which girls generally ended their remarks.
"Oh, look at that absurd looking cow," was her next remark, made beforePeter had begun to worry over the pause.
Peter looked at the cow and laughed. He would like to have laughedlonger, for that would have used up time, but the moment he thought thelaugh could be employed in place of conversation, the laugh failed.However, to be told to look at a cow required no rejoinder, so there wasas yet no cause for anxiety.
"We are very proud of our roads about here," said Miss Pierce. "When wefirst bought they were very bad, but papa took the matter in hand andgot them to build with a rock foundation, as they do in Europe."
Three subjects had been touched upon, and no answer or remark yet forcedupon him. Peter thought of _rouge et noir_, and wondered what the oddswere that he would be forced to say something by Miss Pierce's nextspeech.
"I like the New England roadside," continued Miss Pierce, with anapparent relativeness to the last subject that delighted Peter, who wasused by this time to much disconnection of conversation, and found not alittle difficulty in shifting quickly from one topic to another. "Thereis a tangled finish about it that is very pleasant. And in August, whenthe golden-rod comes, I think it is glorious. It seems to me as if allthe hot sunbeams of the summer had been gathered up in--excuse theexpression--it's a word of Watts's--into 'gobs' of sunshine, andscattered along the roads and fields."
Peter wondered if the request to be excused called for a response, butconcluded that it didn't.
"Papa told me the other day," continued Miss Pierce, "that there werenineteen distinct varieties of golden-rod. I had never noticed thatthere were any differences."
Peter began to feel easy and comfortable. He made a mental note thatMiss Pierce had a very sweet voice. It had never occurred to Peterbefore to notice if a girl had a pleasant voice. Now he distinctlyremembered that several to whom he had talked--or rather who had talkedto him--had not possessed that attraction.
"Last year," said Miss Pierce, "when Watts was here, we had a golden-rodparty. We had the whole house decked with it, and yellow lamps on thelawn."
"He told me about it," said Peter.
"He really was the soul of it," said Miss Pierce, "He wove himself abelt and chaplet of it and wore it all through the evening. He was sogood-looking!"
Peter, quite unconscious that he had said anything, actually continued:"He was voted the handsomest man of the class."
"Was he really? How nice!" said Miss Pierce.
"Yes," said Peter. "And it was true." Peter failed to notice that aquestion had been asked, or that he had answered it. He began to thinkthat he would like to look at Miss Pierce for a moment. Miss Pierce,during this interval, remarked to herself: "Yes. That was the right way,Helen, my dear."
"We had quite a houseful for our party," Miss Pierce remarked, afterthis self-approval. "And that reminds me that I must tell you about whomyou meet to-day." Then the next ten minutes were consumed in naming anddescribing the two fashionable New York girls and their brother, whomade the party then assembled.
During this time Peter's eyes strayed from Watts's shapely back, andtook a furtive glance at Miss Pierce. He found that she was looking athim as she talked, but for some reason it did not alarm him, as suchobservation usually did. Before the guests were properly catalogued,Peter was looking into her eyes as she rambled on, and forgot that hewas doing so.
The face that he saw was not one of any great beauty, but it was sweet,and had a most attractive way of showing every change of mood orthought. It responded quickly too, to outside influence. Many a girl ofmore real beauty was less popular. People liked to talk to Miss Pierce,and many could not escape from saying more than they wished, impelledthereto by her ready sympathy. Then her eyes were really beautiful, andshe had the trimmest, dearest little figure in the world; "squeezable"was the word Watts used to desc
ribe it, and most men thought the same.Finally, she had a pleasant way of looking into people's eyes as shetalked to them, and for some reason people felt very well satisfied whenshe did.
It had this effect upon Peter. As he looked down into the large grayeyes, really slate-color in their natural darkness, made the darker bythe shadows of the long lashes, he entirely forgot place andcircumstances; ceased to think whose turn it was to speak; even forgotto think whether he was enjoying the moment. In short he forgot himselfand, what was equally important, forgot that he was talking to a girl.He felt and behaved as he did with men. "Moly hoses!" said Watts tohimself on the front seat, "the old fellow's getting loquacious.Garrulity must be contagious, and he's caught it from Mr. Pierce."Which, being reduced to actual facts, means that Peter had spoken eighttimes, and laughed twice, in the half hour that was passed between thestation and the Shrubberies' gate.
The Honorable Peter Stirling and What People Thought of Him Page 4
