CHAPTER XVII
REACTION
In the darkness of the summer midnight Georgiana descended from the"owl" train, the only passenger, as it happened, to alight at the smallstation. She had hoped to slip away unobserved for the half-mile walkhome, but the station master was too quick for her. He was a youngstation master, and he had known Georgiana Warne all his life--fromafar.
"Well, I certainly did think I'd seen a ghost," said he, confrontingher. "I thought you'd gone to Europe. Get a message to come back? Yourfather ain't took sick, has he?"
"No, I hope not. I--something happened to make it best for me to comeback."
"Well, that's too bad, sure," said he, curiously regarding her. "Say,wait five minutes and I'll walk down the road with you. It's pretty latefor you to be out alone."
"Thank you, Mr. Parker; I don't mind a bit, and I'm anxious to get on.I've only this small bag to carry, and it's bright moonlight. No, truly,please don't come. Good-night, and thank you."
Could this really be herself, Georgiana Warne, she wondered, as she madeher escape and walked rapidly away down the road under the high archesof the elms. How had it come about? Why was she here, she who hadexpected to be out on the first reaches of the great deep when midnightcame this night? As she passed silent house after silent house, familiarand yet somehow strangely unfamiliar in the light of what might havebeen, it was hard enough to realize that she had had this wonderfulchance to stay away for two happy months from the sober little oldplace, and had herself relinquished it.
Before she knew it she was nearing her home, the old white housestanding square and stern in the moonlight--she had been seeing it allthe way in the train. She loved it dearly, no doubt of that, but it hadbeen no attack of homesickness which had brought her back to it.
As she came up the path she saw, past the sweeping branches of the greattrees which surrounded the house, that Mr. Jefferson's windows werestill alight. This was no surprise, for she knew he had often workedtill late hours before she began to help him; and it looked as if, nowthat he had to continue alone, he meant to keep up the rate of advanceby working overtime.
Georgiana stole upon the porch and tried the door. It was bolted asusual. She slipped around the house, and tried the side and rear doorsin turn, to find them fast. She had had no plan as to how to make anundisturbing entrance at this hour, but had counted on being able todiscover some unguarded point. She and her father had never been carefulas to thorough locking of the house in a neighbourhood where thefts werealmost unknown, but evidently their boarder, accustomed to city ways andchances of trouble, had taken pains to make all fast.
There seemed to be only one thing to do, and Georgiana did it. Afterall, it was probably better that somebody should know of her return, incase she had to go about the house and make any betraying sounds. Shestooped to the gravel path, and scooping up a handful of pebbles flungthem up at one of the lighted windows, where they rattled like smallbird shot upon the wire netting of the screen.
It took a second fusillade before the absorbed worker within wasattracted and appeared at the window, a black figure against the yellowradiance of the oil lamp.
"It's some one who belongs here," Georgiana called softly. "Please comedown very quietly and let me in."
"Wait a minute," returned the voice above.
In less than that minute the door swung softly open, and the tallfigure, clad in loose shirt and trousers, the former open at the neckand revealing a sturdy throat, stood before the applicant for admission.There was no light upon Georgiana, for the moonlit yard was behind her.
"What can I do for you?" Mr. Jefferson was beginning in a pleasant tone,as of one not at all disturbed by being summoned at this hour, when avoice he had heard many times before said, with an odd thrill in it, asif it struggled between tears and laughter:
"You can let me in and try not to consider me an idiot. I got my fatheron my mind and couldn't sail, so I came back. That's absolutely allthere is of it."
"My dear girl!" Mr. Jefferson put forth a hand and took hers, as he cameout upon the porch. "Of course, I beg your pardon," he added, releasingher hand after one strong pressure, "if you consider that my rathernatural surprise isn't apology enough. But--you can't mean that theship--and the party--have sailed without you?"
"Just that. Is--is my father as well as he was this morning?"
"He was quite as well, apparently, at bedtime. The heat has been trying,but he has borne it without complaint."
"I don't know what I expected," confessed Georgiana rather faintly; "butI don't think I expected that. I'm very thankful. I'll come in and slipupstairs. Thank you for coming down."
She would stay for no more; it seemed to her that she could bear nofurther explanations to-night. As if he understood her, Mr. Jeffersonwas silent as he followed her in, bolted the heavy door, and took fromher the handbag she carried. He deposited this at the door of her roomupstairs, and spoke under his breath in the darkness relieved only bythe rays which shone from the open door of his own room at the front ofthe hall:
"Good-night--and welcome back!"
It was almost daylight when she fell asleep, and she wakened again atthe first sound of Mrs. Perkins's footsteps in the kitchen below her.She dressed slowly, her heart heavy with the sense of having made aprobably needless sacrifice. With the waking in the familiar old room,all the realization of that which she had lost had come heavily uponher. Why was not the sunlight pouring in through portholes, bearing therefreshing breezes from the sea, instead of beating in over the hot tinroof of the ell upon which her windows looked? Was it merely as AuntOlivia had warned her, the hysteria of the inexperienced traveler? Whyhad she not at least accepted Miles Channing's eminently reasonablesuggestion that she make the voyage, giving her emotions time to cool?At the longest, if she made an immediate return, she would have beenabsent but little more than a fortnight.
But she dressed with unusual care none the less, and when she descendedthe back stairs she was looking as fresh and trim as ever in her life.She encountered the good Mrs. Perkins in the kitchen and had it out withher, receiving the first encouragement she had felt that somebody wouldthink her rational in her return.
"Well, I must say," declared that lady, standing still, as if she hadbeen struck, in an attitude of astonishment, "while I'm more than sorryfor you to lose your trip, Georgie, I shall feel safer now you're back.Your father cert'nly does look awful peaked to me and kind of weak-like,more so than I ever noticed before. Perhaps it's just because I felt theresponsibility settlin' down on my shoulders the minute you was out ofthe house. And I guess he was goin' to miss you pretty awful much;though, of course, he wouldn't say so."
Georgiana took in her father's tray when it was ready, quite as usual,her heart beating fast as she entered and beheld the white face againstthe propped-up pillows. After the first gasp of surprise she saw theunwonted colour flow into the pale cheeks.
"My dear, dear child," he said, as she set down the tray and flew toclasp him in her arms, "this is--this is almost more than I can grasp.What has happened Is the sailing of your ship deferred?"
"My sailing on it is deferred," she told him. "I couldn't leave you,Father Davy; that's the simple truth. Your daughter is aninfant-in-arms."
She did not try to make it clear to him; but let him guess the most ofher reason for returning, and was rewarded by his fervent: "Well, dear,it was a very wonderful thing for you to do. But you should not havedone it. You should have trusted the good Lord to take care of me, as Ibade you. You must do it yet. We will arrange for you to follow yourUncle Thomas's party on the next boat. I cannot have you lose so muchjust for me."
"It's no use," she asserted, her eyes studying the blue veins so clearlyoutlined on the fair forehead. "I've made my decision; I ought to havemade it that way in the beginning. So long as you need me I shall notleave you."
At the breakfast table she met Mr. Jefferson. It was only twenty-fourhours since she and he had breakfasted together, but somehow it seemedt
o Georgiana as if at least a week had gone by. Mr. Warne was seldompresent at the first meal of the day, and it had come to seem verynatural to Georgiana to sit down with her boarder and pour his coffeeand talk with him. This morning, however, there was a curious constraintin the girl's manner. After the first interchange of observations onthe promise of even more extreme heat than on the preceding day and thepossibilities of dress and diet to suit the trying conditions, the talkflagged.
"I am strongly tempted," said Mr. Jefferson, as he rose after making anunusually frugal meal of fruit and coffee, "to let up on work till therecomes a change in the weather. I believe I shall try how it feels toidle a little. You surely will indorse that, Miss Warne, as far as youare concerned?"
"No," she said quickly, sure that this plan was the result ofconsideration for herself; "as far as I am concerned I should muchprefer to work. I am sure you can give me something to do, even if youare not working yourself."
"Do you mean that? Then if you do, I shall be with you, though I thinkit would be good for you to rest. This last week has been pretty fullfor you, even though you haven't been with me on the book."
She shook her head. "I want to go on with it," she insisted; and heagreed.
News in a small village travels fast, and Georgiana was fully preparedto have James Stuart appear with the first fall of dusk. He came throughthe hedge at the foot of the garden, and found her on the seat under theold apple tree which was her favourite resort. His greeting was full ofthe astonishment which had been his all day.
"My word, George, but I never would have believed this! How on earth didyou come to do it?"
"I had to," she said simply and rather wearily. She had explained to atleast twenty persons that day, as well as she could explain. She was notwilling to confide to any one the incident of the flowers and the cardwhich had brought about the impulse to return that had hardened soquickly into action. She had listened to all kinds of comments on thesituation, some few sympathetic, but most of them curious and critical.Many had said to her that they never would have believed Georgie Warnewould ever change her mind about anything. Others had added that perhapsit was a good thing, since her father certainly was pretty feeble andnobody knew when he might take a turn for the worse. Altogether, it hadnot been a happy day for the object of the village interest.
Stuart sat down beside Georgiana on the old bench which bore hisinitials from one end to the other of it, the earliest ones hacked outduring his small boyhood, the later more than once coupling Georgiana'swith his own. His hand, as he settled into place, rested on one of thesevery monograms.
"It seems like the natural thing to say I'm glad to see you back," hesaid slowly, "but--there's a reason why I can't say it at all."
"Then don't dream of saying it." Georgiana leaned her head listlesslyagainst the seamy old tree trunk behind her.
"It's not that I wanted you to go; you know I was altogether too selfishfor that," he went on. "But--something happened at the last that made meentirely reconciled to having you go. Can you guess what it was?"
"Possibly."
"But you can't. Of course I was pretty well dashed at finding Channingbooked for the trip. But--I got over that when--I made up my mind tocome, too."
"To come, too!" The head resting against the tree trunk turned quickly."What _do_ you mean?"
"Jeannette suggested it," said he, with something in his voice which hislistener could not quite analyze. "She put it up to me to come overwhile they should be staying in Devonshire, and join their house party.At first I said I couldn't, but the more I thought of it the more itseemed possible to get over there for a fortnight anyhow. The plan wasnot to tell you, and to surprise you by walking in on you."
Georgiana stared at him, as well as she could see him through the fervidtwilight. "Jimps! Why, how could you get away?"
"There's never a time when it's easy to get away," he admitted; "buteverything's in full sail now for the summer, and just lately I'vesucceeded in getting hold of an awfully competent man who could runthings for the month well enough. Anyhow, of course I was dippy at thethought of going and--I promised her I would if I could manage it. I'venever had the chance to travel much, and it suddenly struck me that Ididn't have to deny myself every possible thing. But, of course, nowthat you're back----"
"But that makes no difference!" she cried quickly, "Why should it?Jeannette asked you because she wanted you. Of course you must go, ifyou really can get away."
"She never would have asked me if you hadn't been going. And it was onlyan afterthought then. If I hadn't gone on for that last hour it wouldn'thave occurred to her."
"It occurred to her to wish it, because she said so more than once to methe day I was there. But she didn't dream you could do it. I don't knowwhy we should all consider you a fixture, for your father is muchstronger than mine and it couldn't harm him at all to spare you for alittle. Of course, you must go, Jimps! When will you start?"
"Do you honestly want me to go, George?" He seemed to be scanning herface through the dimness.
"I should be a selfish thing enough if I didn't," she protested.
He was silent for a minute; then he said: "To be frank, I wrote lastnight for a berth on a ship that sails in two weeks. Jeannette warned menot to delay, the travel is so heavy this time of year. I talked it overwith my father and he seemed pleased at the idea. You can imagine I felta bit dizzy this morning when I heard you hadn't sailed. I didn'tbelieve it at first."
"Never mind, you will go just the same--and all the more. It's a pitysomebody shouldn't carry out the plan, and you've had less fun than I,for you've been at home longer since college. Go, Jimps, and take thegoods the gods provide."
She maintained this spirit throughout the ensuing fortnight, in spite ofhis evident effort to make her acknowledge that she would feel her owndisappointment the more for his going. When he came over to say good-byehe found her apparently in the gayest of spirits; and she gave him sucha friendly send-off that he went away marvelling in his heart at theways of young women, and the ways of Georgiana Warne in particular.
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