Flood Tide Page 14

  CHAPTER XIV

  THE SPENCES ENTER SOCIETY

  For a week Howard Snelling came and went from the small, vine-coveredcottage on the bay, making himself so useful and so delightful that thecharm of his personality gradually obliterated the first unpleasantimpression Bob had gained of him. He worked hard but worked with suchunobtrusiveness that unless one scrutinized him closely the subtlepower that lay behind his hand and brain might have passed unsuspected.Ever mindful that his role was that of the casual visitor, he listenedwith appreciation to Willie's harmless gossip and whenever the littleold man advanced a theory as to the enterprise in which they wereengaged he greeted it not only with respect but with cordiality. Nowand then as the undertaking progressed, he ventured a tactful, almostdiffident suggestion, the value of which the inventor was quick todetect. Also, in the same nonchalant fashion, he produced from time totime the necessary materials, weaving a fairy web of prevarication whenquestioned too closely as to their source.

  "Oh, I have a friend in the boat-building business," said he, "who letsme have any small things I want. I have done some favors for him inthe past and he is only too glad to square up the balance by sending mewhatever I ask him for."

  The explanation, given with off-hand candor, quite satisfied theartless Willie, who imagined all the world as truthful as himself andinquired no further, accepting with unfeigned joy the gifts the godsprovided. His face glowed with almost beatific light as he saw hisdream slowly take form. Nothing he had ever done equalled thismasterpiece. The project was his first thought at waking, the lastbefore closing his eyes at night. Sometimes, even, when all but thesea slept, he would tiptoe downstairs, candle in hand, just to steal aglance at the child of his fancy. So absorbed was he in its growth andprogress that it never crossed his mind to marvel that two men ofHoward Snelling's and Robert Morton's ability should sacrifice to theinvention the golden hours of the rare June days. Their interest wasnothing miraculous. Who wouldn't have been interested in such awonderful undertaking?

  Indeed, Mr. Snelling's concern for the venture was almost as keen ashis own. From morning until late noon he toiled. Occasionally theGalbraiths' chauffeur brought him over from Belleport, but more oftenit was Cynthia who made the trip with him. Mr. Galbraith, it appeared,had been called back to New York on urgent business; Roger had gonewith friends on a yachting cruise; and Mrs. Galbraith was devoting hertime to her mother who was still indisposed. Hence Cynthia was forcedto fill the gaps and serve both as host and hostess. It was a naturalsituation, and Bob thought nothing about it except selfishly to exultthat under the conditions Cynthia was kept too busy to invade theSpence home or bother him with invitations. And that was not the onlyboon that came with Snelling's presence, for with three workers in theshop Robert Morton found not infrequent chances to steal into thekitchen, where Delight was busy with household tasks, and enjoy therapture of a word or two with her.

  Never were there such days of enchantment as these! He might, he oftensaid to himself, have remained in Wilton an entire summer and hisacquaintance with the lady of his heart never have reached the degreeof intimacy that it attained during Celestina's illness. To behold thegirl, fair as the new-blown rose, presiding at the wee breakfast tablewas to forget all else. How dainty she looked in her trim cotton gown,with its demure cuffs and collar of white, and how deftly her handsmoved among the simple fittings of the table! The worn agatecoffee-pot seemed transformed to classic outline, and the nectar itcontained to ambrosia. And what a famous little cook she was! Surelysuch flaky biscuit could never have been made by other hands. Bobsuddenly became surprisingly interested in kitchens and all that theycontained. The glint of tin pans, the dull ebony of the stove,iridescent suds foaming fresh and hot,--all these took on a strange andhomely beauty quite novel in its charm. He had never dreamed beforewhat an incomparable Eden a kitchen was!

  To slip in and fill the wood-box; to creep into the pantry and watchthe beloved head as it bent over the baking table; to be permitted towipe the dishes while _She_ washed them made of the simple duties tasksfor gods and goddesses. He loved the pretty way her fringed lasheslifted, the wave of color that swept her cheek when she was startled byhis step; and there was something ravishingly confidential in hercaution:

  "Be careful, Bob, not to drop Aunt Tiny's china teacups."

  It was all foolish and inconsequential--the sighs, the smiles, thesilences--but they made a paradise of the grim old universe. Many atime he longed to press his lips to the white arm, to kiss the warmcurve of her neck where soft curls clustered. But he did none of thesethings. By a gentle reserve the girl kept him at his distance, andalthough there was only Jezebel to see, he did not transgress thebounds Delight's sweet womanliness reared between them. Of course sheknew he loved her. She could not but know. Even Jezebel from herround blue eyes proclaimed a complete understanding of the romance anddrawing herself into a fluffy ball in Willie's great chair feignedsleep that she might not embarrass the lovers. The canary knew, and sodid the impertinent crimson rambler that clambered up the window frameand spied in through the pane. It was no secret. The whole dazzlingworld shared in the exquisite mystery.

  Were the tale to have been put into words half its delicate beautywould have been shattered. It was now a thing of clouds, of perfume,of sunshine. The waves whispered together of it; the birds trilled thestory. A glance, a half-uttered sentence, the meeting of hands carriedwith them great throbbing reaches of emotion that went to make up thereality of the ephemeral drama. And then there was the tormenting,bewitching, wretched, alluring uncertainty of it all. One could neverbe sure, and in the spell of this disquietude lay half the magic.

  Robert Morton speculated as to whether Willie, along with Jezebel andthe canary, had fathomed the idyl. He wondered, too, how much Snellingsuspected. The New Yorker had an irritating habit of waylaying Delightand making pretty speeches to her, as if for the wanton pleasure ofwatching the blush rise in her cheek. When it came to women there wasno denying Howard Snelling was as great an authority as at buildingships. He understood the sex and knew what pleased them, and with thesubtle art of a courtier he breathed into their ears a flattery toodelicate to be resented. Beside such an expert Bob, floundering in hisfirst real love affair, felt but a blunderer. Perhaps Mr. Snellingrealized this and rather enjoyed the amateur's chagrin. However thatmay have been, he certainly let no opportunity slip for the display ofhis proficiency. The discomfited lover fumed with jealous rage; yet onanalyzing the causes of his wrath he discovered he actually had butscant ground for complaint. He was not engaged to Delight, and untilhe was he had no claim upon her and not the smallest right in the worldto grumble if another man chose to pay her a compliment. And what werecompliments anyway? Only empty words. Yet reason as he would, hewished Snelling twenty fathoms deep in the sea before ever he had cometo Wilton, there to haunt Willie's shop and make of himself a menace toall tranquillity.

  So the days passed in a delirious alternation of ecstasy and despairuntil one morning when Mr. Snelling came bringing from Madam Lee thelong-delayed note which she had promised Bob she would send. She wasnow quite strong again, she wrote, and she wished him to arrange forhis aunt, Mr. Spence and Miss Hathaway to come and have tea with theBelleport family on the following afternoon, when both Roger and Mr.Galbraith would be at home. With beating heart Robert Morton took theletter into the house and showed it to Delight.

  "How nice of them!" she exclaimed. "Oh, I do wish we could go! Williewould love it. He liked Mr. Galbraith and his son so much! And AuntTiny would be in the seventh heaven if only she were able to accept.She so seldom has an invitation out, poor dear!"

  "And you?"

  "Oh, I couldn't go anyway."

  "Why not?"

  "Well, in the first place, I have nothing to wear to a place like that."

  "Delight!"

  "And besides," she hurried on, "they are only asking me because Ihappen to be here in the house."

 
"Indeed they're not!"

  "But I know they are," persisted the girl. "Everybody doesn't want tosee me just because you--"

  "Because I what?" demanded Bob, with an ominous stride in her direction.

  "Because you--and Mr. Snelling like me," concluded she tranquilly.

  "Confound Snelling!"

  "Indeed, no. He is a charming gentleman, and I won't have himconfounded."

  "Hang him then."

  "Nor hanged either," she protested.

  "Of course if you prefer Mr. Snelling--" began Robert Morton stiffly.

  She broke into a teasing laugh.

  "I may not prefer him, but nevertheless I will own he is the mostwonderful specimen of masculinity that my eyes have ever beheld.Remember Wilton is a small place, pitifully limited in its outlook, andthat I have not traveled the wide world to view the wonders itcontains. Hence Mr. Snelling is to me like the Eiffel Tower, theMatterhorn, the tomb of Napoleon, or Fifth Avenue at Easter--somethingillustrious and novel."

  "He is nothing so fine as any of those," snapped Bob.

  "Oh, I don't know," was the provoking answer.

  Robert Morton bit his lip and moved toward the door, but he had not gotfurther than the sill before she whispered:

  "Bob!"

  Resolutely he held his peace.

  "Please be nice, Bob," she cooed.

  Ah, he was back again, but she had retreated behind the tall rocker.

  "I suppose," she observed, hurtling the words over Jezebel's sleepingform, "that your aunt will be heartbroken to miss this party. Whydon't you run upstairs and let her read the note? Then we can send ourregrets when Mr. Snelling goes back to Belleport this noon."

  Obediently the young man sped to do her bidding, and soon Delight heardhis voice calling from the upper hall.

  "She won't send her regrets. She says she's going. I tell her theywill ask her another time, but she insists she feels lots better andwas thinking of getting up, anyway. She wants to start putting freshcuffs on her black cashmere this minute, and do I don't know what.You'd better come up and stop her."

  But Celestina was not to be stopped. Go she would!

  "My shoulder's 'most well anyhow," she affirmed, "an' I had planned togo down to supper. Do you think for one minute I'd miss a junket likethis? Why, I'd go if it killed me! The Galbraiths are nice folks an'have been good to Bob and Willie. Besides," she added withingratiating candor, "I want to see where they live. An' they're goin'to send the automobile for us, that great red one--imagine it! I ain'tbeen in an automobile more'n six times in my whole life. Do you thinkI'd send my regrets? I'd go if I had to be carried on a stretcher!"

  Delight and Robert Morton laughed at her enthusiasm.

  "Now you trot straight down stairs, Bob," went on Celestinaenergetically, "an' write Mis' Lee we'll admire to come, all of us."

  "But Aunt Tiny," put in Delight, "I'm not going. Somebody must stayhere and look after the house."

  "What for?" Celestina demanded. "The house won't run away, an' ifthieves was to ransack it from attic to cellar they'd find nothin'worth carryin' away. Ridiculous!"

  "She says she hasn't anything to wear," interrupted Bob.

  "Delight Hathaway! For shame!" said the elder woman, raising areproving finger. "You always look pretty as a picture in anything.Some folks need fine clothes to set 'em off but you don't. Don't besilly! Why, half the pleasure of Willie an' me would be wiped out ifyou didn't go, an' likely Bob would be disappointed, too."

  "You bet I would!"

  "W--e--ll," the girl yielded.

  "There, that's right, my dear." Celestina reached out and patted theslender hand. "Now, Bob, you go along an' write your letter,"commanded she. "An' Delight, you bring me up some hot water an' fetchmy clean print dress from the hall closet. I kinder think, come tomull it over, that there's fresh cuffs on my cashmere already, but youmight look an' see. An' hadn't we better furbish up my bonnet thisafternoon? It ain't been touched this season."