Part 19 (1/2)
A little later, he threw away his cigar, and went in again. But he did not dance. He sat and talked pleasantly to Mrs. Webster for twenty minutes or so, and then joined his host by the fire, with whom he discussed agriculture and politics for the rest of the evening.
In the meantime, Paul, deserted by Jane, had managed to extricate himself from the toils of the fair Amelia, and possessed by a deep sense of injury, had climbed up again to the hayloft, with the double purpose of expressing his indignant feelings to Jane, and getting well out of the reach of his recent partner.
”Well, I must say-if that's the way you keep a bargain-” he began. Jane looked around at him with an abstracted expression, and then unable to control herself at the sight of his aggrieved face, burst into the most unsympathetic laughter.
”Oh, you poor creature! I _am_ sorry! I forgot all about you!”
”Do you think you're giving me fresh information?” inquired Paul, in tones of bitterest sarcasm.
”How _did_ you get away?”
”Much you care!”
”There, don't be angry. Tell me how you _did_ get away?”
”If you must know-I just bolted.”
”Paul!”
”Couldn't help it. Just had to. Sorry if it was uncouth and all that-but there are limits to human endurance!”
”Now who's hard on Amelia?”
Paul grinned unwillingly.
”I guess you were about right. The whole time I was with her, she was picking on things about people-all the other girls who were the least bit pretty. Not plain, straight-forward out-and-out wallops, mind you, but all sorts of sweet and sly-”
”Oh, I know her way. And did you just up and leave her?”
”No. We pranced around a while, and then she sat down, and made me fan her. And then we pranced around some more-until I thought I was going to die, and she kept talking-first about what she thought about girls nowadays, and then about poetry-you can imagine about how much I had to say to that sort of stuff. And then we pranced around some more, and by that time I'd concluded that I had only myself to rely on”-this with renewed bitterness, ”so I told the woman that I had a-a weak heart, and guessed I'd better get a little air-”
”Paul, you didn't!” cried Jane, horrified.
”Yes, I did,” said Paul, grimly. ”I'd gotten to the point where I'd have flopped down, and played dead if necessary. She seemed to swallow the story, bait, line and hook, and was quite sympathetic-and here I am, and the next time you try to get me into a fix like that-”
”I say,” interrupted Jane, ”Mr. Sheridan hasn't danced with Lily at all!
He's gone and plopped himself down with all those old fogies around the fire!”
At this Paul took his turn to chuckle.
”Serves you right! _Now_ will you keep your fingers out of other people's pies? I told you you were too young to be meddling with such things. But I guess you're just like all women-jump at conclusions, and then start trying to run things-”
”You think you're awfully clever, don't you?” retorted Jane acidly.
”Not clever-just humanly intelligent. Intuition may be all right for women, but plain horse-sense is good enough for me.”
”What's intuition?” demanded Jane.
”The thing that makes girls think they know more than men do,” replied Paul, scornfully. ”Your friend Amelia says she's got a lot of it. Ask her what it is.” Then he turned to her with an exasperating grin; he was getting immeasurable satisfaction out of her discomfiture. ”Practice what you preach, old lady. I guess it's about time that _you_ left a thing or two to Providence.”