Part 7 (1/2)

”Love,” the aunt repeated firmly.

Dolly rocked for a time; tears again were dropping fast from the end of her eye-lashes. ”But he _doesn't_ love me,” she wailed at length. ”And he _isn't_ a, a--that horrid Chinesy word you call him, and he is gone, gone!”

”Oh, my dear, of course,” said Aunt Hester; ”of course, things are not quite as simple as I have been describing them. A woman has to use some sense about it these days. This clinging business has become more complicated with civilization. You may have erred in the details. Now, tell me what has happened, all that has happened.”

And Dolly, in a rush of words, told the lamentable story of her domestic woe, of her struggle with the wings of Charles-Norton.

Aunt Hester was silent for a time; then she nodded her head affirmatively. ”Yes, that's it, my dear,” she said. ”It is as I suspected. You have been clinging with your eyes shut. And in these perilous times it is necessary to cling with eyes open. You----”

But Dolly had risen to her feet, vibrant. ”Do you mean to say,” she began, and her voice was very low and tense; ”do you mean to say that I should be subjected to living with a man--with a man”--her voice rose--”with a man, Auntie, who has _Wings_?”

”Oh, my dear!” exclaimed Aunt Hester, hastily, ”you mistake me. Of _course_, I am not asking _that_ of you. But that is not necessary either. The essential--it is to let Charles-Norton _believe_ that he has his wings, not that he should have them. And then, my dear, to be frank, to be just, I must say that this seems to me a case for compromise. Yes, dear, you should allow Charles-Norton part of his wings; oh yes, you should really let him have a bit of these wings. And _that_ bit, Dolly, if you are the wise and capable little girl I think you can be, you should turn to the advantage, to the preservation, to the prosperity--hem--of the home!”

Dolly sat down, weak and trembling. She was silent for a long time. When she spoke again, it was in a tired voice. ”Auntie,” she said, ”you mean well. I know that you are trying to help me and am very thankful to you.

But we have differing views of Life. I am willing to do much for Charles-Norton--Oh, so much! I am willing to meet him half-way, three-quarters of the way, the whole way, on ever so many things, and I have done so. But when it comes to a question, Auntie, of self-respect, of morality, of _Decency_, then, Auntie, never! On that, there can be no compromise. Charles-Norton cannot have wings.”

”Oh, very well,” said Aunt Hester, plainly nettled; ”very well, very well. Then, what are you going to do?”

”Nothing,” said Dolly, decidedly. ”I will give him up,” she said very firmly. ”I will give him up,” she repeated grandiloquently. ”I will give him up,” she said a third time--and broke out weeping.

”That,” said Aunt Hester, ”is what is known as the _grand stunt_, and is rather popular these days. I've seen many try it, and mighty few achieve it. And you, Dolly”--she rose and stood with a hand upon the shaking shoulders beneath her--”and you, you little soft Dolly, why, you are about the last----”

”I shall not lift a finger,” interrupted Dolly. ”If he, he, he does not love me, I, I shall, not stoop to hold him!”

”Well,” said Aunt Hester, briskly, ”I am going now. I----”

”Going!” cried Dolly, desolately.

”I am going,” repeated Aunt Hester, firmly. ”There is nothing I can do here. And there're Earl's socks to be looked after (he is just entering Cambridge, you know), and Ethel's frocks (she's at the High School), and then there is your uncle--suppose he gets it into _his_ head to sprout feathers! No, no--I'm going home. _I'm_ willing to be what Nature said I had to be. _I_ don't take any chances with those new-fangled grand-stunts.

Besides, if you are just going to do nothing, why, then, you can do that without me.”

And setting her bonnet upon her nice gray hair, Aunt Hester picked up her grip and marched out into the hall.

”Auntie! Auntie!” cried Dolly, running after her.

Aunt Hester stopped at the opened door and turned. She confronted Dolly, and the will-o'-the-wisp was dancing in the profundities of her deep-set eyes. A tenderness came into them; she dropped her grip, seized Dolly, and drew her close.

”Dear little Dolly,” she whispered; ”you'll do it, don't you fear. You'll bring back your Charles-Norton, you soft little woman, you; you'll get him! And now, kiss me good-by. Write to me--when you decide.”

The door closed, and leaning against it, Dolly wept a long time. Then she went within and in a more comfortable position, wept more. She wept for a whole week. And then, suddenly, one afternoon, she stood up in the center of the room and began stamping her foot.

”I won't,” she said, with each stamp of the little foot. ”I won't, I won't, I won't!”

And saying ”I won't,” she did. She sat down at the table and on her pale blue letter paper, wrote:

”DEAR AUNTIE:--Yes, you were right, I guess. I _am_ a cling-to. I want him. I don't care: he's mine and I _won't_ give him up. Tell me how to do it, Auntie, oh, tell me how! Quick, Auntie, quick!”

The answer was not long in coming. ”Dearest Little Dolly,” wrote Aunt Hester; ”of course, I knew you would, and I am glad. As to telling you how--well, that is very simple. Just go to him, Dolly. Go to him (not too soon; wait a while) and just stick around. Your instincts will tell you the rest. Rely on your instincts, Dolly,” went on this incorrigible Darwinian. ”They are better than your reason, for they are the reason of your mother and grandmother, and all the line of mothers that came before you. _They_ had to be right, Dolly, or they wouldn't have been, and then _you_ wouldn't be. Go to him, and stick around, and do as you feel like doing. In all probability you'll be nice, and humble, and snuggledy, and warm. And then, make--your arrangements. _He_ can't help himself. Nature is on your side. His dice are loaded. Cling, Dolly, cling.”