Part 9 (1/2)
”My day has been rather strenuous,” he confessed. ”But you make me ashamed. Won't you be merciful and try me again?” And this time he knew what he was saying, and meant it.
”It is hardly worth repeating,” she qualified--nevertheless, she did repeat it.
Ballard, listening now, found the little note of distress in the protest against play-building in the wilderness; and his heart warmed to Miss Dosia. In the sentimental field, disappointment for one commonly implies disappointment for two; and he became suddenly conscious of a fellow-feeling for the heiress of the Van Bryck millions.
”There is plenty of dramatic material in Arcadia for Mr. Wingfield, if he knows where to look for it,” he submitted. ”For example, our camp at the dam furnishes a 'situation' every now and then.” And here he told the story of the catapulted stone, adding the little dash of mystery to give it the dramatic flavour.
Miss Dosia's interest was as eager as her limitations would permit. ”May I tell Mr. Wingfield?” she asked, with such innocent craft that Ballard could scarcely restrain a smile.
”Certainly. And if Mr. Wingfield is open to suggestion on that side, you may bring him down, and I'll put him on the trail of a lot more of the mysteries.”
”Thank you so much. And may I call it my discovery?”
Again her obviousness touched the secret spring of laughter in him. It was very evident that Miss Van Bryck would do anything in reason to bring about a solution of continuity in the sympathetic intimacy growing up between the pair on the opposite side of the table.
”It is yours, absolutely,” he made haste to say. ”I should never have thought of the dramatic utility if you hadn't suggested it.”
”H'm!--ha!” broke in the major. ”What are you two young people plotting about over there?”
Ballard turned the edge of the query; blunted it permanently by attacking a piece of government engineering in which, as he happened to know, the major had figured in an advisory capacity. This carrying of the war into Africa brought on a battle technical which ran on unbroken to the ices and beyond; to the moment when Colonel Craigmiles proposed an adjournment to the portico for the coffee and the tobacco. Ballard came off second-best, but he had accomplished his object, which was to make the shrewd-eyed old major forget if he had overheard too much; and Miss Van Bryck gave him his meed of praise.
”You are a very brave man, Mr. Ballard,” she said, as he drew the portieres aside for her. ”Everybody else is afraid of the major.”
”I've met him before,” laughed the Kentuckian; ”in one or another of his various incarnations. And I didn't learn my trade at West Point, you remember.”
IX
THE BRINK OF HAZARD
The summer night was perfect, and the after-dinner gathering under the great portico became rather a dispersal. The company fell apart into couples and groups when the coffee was served; and while Miss Craigmiles and the playwright were still fraying the worn threads of the dramatic unities, Ballard consoled himself with the older of the Cantrell girls, talking commonplace nothings until his heart ached.
Later on, when young Bigelow had relieved him, and he had given up all hope of breaking into the dramatic duet, he rose to go and make his parting acknowledgments to Miss Cauffrey and the colonel. It was at that moment that Miss Elsa confronted him.
”You are not leaving?” she said. ”The evening is still young--even for country folk.”
”Measuring by the hours I've been neglected, the evening is old, very old,” he retorted reproachfully.
”Which is another way of saying that we have bored you until you are sleepy?” she countered. ”But you mustn't go yet--I want to talk to you.”
And she wheeled a great wicker lounging-chair into a quiet corner, and beat up the pillows in a near-by hammock, and bade him smoke his pipe if he preferred it to the Castle 'Cadia cigars.
”I don't care to smoke anything if you will stay and talk to me,” he said, love quickly blotting out the disappointments foregone.
”For this one time you may have both--your pipe and me. Are you obliged to go back to your camp to-night?”
”Yes, indeed. I ran away, as it was. Bromley will have it in for me for dodging him this way.”
”Is Mr. Bromley your boss?”