Part 10 (2/2)

”It's dandy,” he said.

The silence that followed was like that of a kitten after a cup of cream.

Then the voice sounded again within the depths of his embrace.

”O, Goosie,” she sobbed; ”I've been so miserable!”

”Poor little girl,” he growled, above there in the dark; ”poor little girl!”

”All my money is gone, Goosie--and the janitor was impolite and treated me dreadfully, and oh, Goosie, I've had such a terrible time!”

”Yes, yes, yes,” he said soothingly (I'll kill that janitor, he thought, gnas.h.i.+ng his teeth).

”Goosie,” began the voice again; ”you won't drive me away, will you? You won't drive me away; I can stay to-night, can't I? It's so dark, and so cold! And in the morning, if you still don't want me, I'll--I'll go away, Goosie. I'll go away and never, never bother you any more, Goosie; never!

But let me stay to-night; Goosie, don't drive me away to-night!”

”Good G.o.d!” groaned Charles-Norton, horrified at the very possibility, and suddenly overwhelmed by a sense of the enormity of his past conduct.

”Good G.o.d, Dolly! don't, don't----”

”I can stay--then--to-night?” she asked, with a glimmer of hope, of hope that cannot believe itself. ”I can stay to-night, Goosie?”

”Oh, Dolly, you can stay to-night, you can stay to-morrow night, you can stay always, Dolly, poor little Dolly,” moaned the agonized Charles-Norton. ”We'll stay here, always, together, Dolly. Never will I move from you again, Dolly; Dolly, my little wife, my love, my----”

Dolly snuggled back close. ”Oh, Goosie,” she said, ”if you let me stay, I'll be so good! I won't bother you at all, Goosie. You can do just what you want; I'll let you have--anything! I won't bother you, you won't know I'm here. I'll just hide around and take care of you, Goosie, I'll do _anything_! If only you'll let me stay, Goosie!”

”Come,” he said, not daring to give his voice much of a chance; ”come; let us go in.”

The little nose suddenly popped out like a squirrel's out of its hole.

She no longer wept, though he could see a tear still at the end of one of her lashes, agleam in the dark. She raised her head out of his arms and looked about her. ”Oh,” she cried, ”is that your house? What a cute baby-house! It's pretty here, isn't it?”

”It is beautiful!” he said enthusiastically. ”We'll be happy here. Come,”

he said; and very close, her head upon his shoulders, his arm about her waist, they went slowly across the meadow to the cabin.

It was pleasant, somehow, the next morning, to loll about with trailing wings, undesirous of flight. The cabin, the meadow, had taken on a certain intimacy, a coziness; it was pleasant to remain there all day, upon earth, idle-winged.

Charles-Norton had his morning swim alone after vain attempts to entice Dolly, her eyes still full of blue sleep, into the crystal waters. Then he fished from his rock--twice as long as he usually fished. And when he returned with his string of rainbows, Dolly, uncovering the dutch-oven which he had bought on his arrival, but the mystery of which he had never mastered, proudly showed him the cracked golden dome of a swelling loaf of bread. Its warm fragrance mingled with the pungent puffs coming from the curved nozzle of the coffee-pot, set in the glowing coals. He gave her the fish, all cleaned, and rolling them in corn-meal, she laid them delicately in the sizzling frying-pan, each by the side of a marbled strip of bacon.

There was no doubt that this breakfast was an improvement on breakfasts that had gone before. Bread is mighty good when one has not had any for nearly two months; and warm golden bread just out of the oven and made by Dolly is more than mighty good. The coffee had undeniably an aroma that it had not had of past mornings. And as you held up to the light, delicately between thumb and finger, a little trout with crisply-curved tail, and slipped it head first between eager white teeth, your eyes smiled into two other eyes (like blue stars), smiling back at you over just such another troutlet, golden crisp, entering in successive movements between just such eager teeth (small pearly ones, these).

Oh, you Charles-Norton!

He wore a blanket on his back, undulating from his shoulders, over his wings, to the ground. Dolly had put it there, fearing he would catch cold. Now and then, by some reflex action of which Charles-Norton was unconscious, the wings stirred uneasily to the burden and let it slip to the ground, upon which Dolly, springing up with a laugh, quickly replaced it. This happened so often that it became a game.

After breakfast Dolly, instead of throwing the dishes in a shallow spot of the lake, as it was the habit of Master Charles-Norton, placed them in a pot of boiling water, at the bottom of which, with wonder-eyes, he saw them miraculously dissolve to brightness. ”You're a genius, Dolly,” he said. She laughed, a silver peal that filled the clearing, then, going into the cabin, returned with his pipe all filled. Nicodemus came to them for his salt, then wandered off again. They sat side by side, their backs against the cabin-wall, the meadow before them, sloping to the lake; he smoked, and she was silent. The sun had risen. It inundated the western slopes with a cascade of light; here and there on the crest glaciers flashed signals; far to the west the plain palpitated liquidly; and above, the sky domed very high, a miracle of pellucid azure. A big sigh escaped Charles-Norton, with a blue wafture of smoke. ”Isn't this beautiful?” he said; ”isn't it beautiful?”

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