Part 26 (1/2)
”I think they often look much brighter in the evening,” said Ronald, thinking of the night before.
”I am sure something disagreeable has happened to you to-day, Mr.
Surbiton,” said Sybil, looking at him. Ronald looked into her eyes as though to see if there were any sympathy there.
”Yes, something disagreeable has happened to me,” he answered slowly.
”Something very disagreeable and painful.”
”I am sorry,” said Sybil simply. But her voice sounded very kind and comforting.
”That is why I say that love stories always end badly in real life,” said Ronald. ”But I suppose I ought not to complain.” It was not until he had thought over this speech, some minutes later, that he realized that in a few words he had told Sybil the main part of his troubles. He never guessed that she was so far in Joe's confidence as to have heard the whole story before. But Sybil was silent and thoughtful.
”Love is such an uncertain thing,” she began, after a pause; and it chanced that at that very moment Joe opened the door and entered the room.
She caught the sentence.
”So you are instructing my cousin,” she said to Sybil, laughing. ”I approve of the way you spend your time, my children!” No one would have believed that, twenty minutes earlier, Joe had been in tears. She was as fresh and as gay as ever, and Ronald said to himself that she most certainly had no heart, but that Sybil had a great deal,--he was sure of it from the tone of her voice.
”What is the news about the election, Sybil?” she asked. ”Of course you know all about it at the Wyndhams'.”
”My dear, the family politics are in a state of confusion that is simply too delightful,” said Sybil.
”You know it is said that Ira C. Calvin has refused to be a candidate, and the Republicans mean to put in Mr. Jobbins in his place, who is such a popular man, and so good and benevolent-quite a philanthropist.”
”Does it make very much difference?” asked Joe anxiously. ”I wish I understood all about it, but the local names are so hard to learn.”
”I thought you had been learning them all the morning in Choate,” put in Ronald, who perceived that the conversation was to be about Harrington.
”It does make a difference,” said Sybil, not noticing Ronald's remark, ”because Jobbins is much more popular than Calvin, and they say he is a friend of Patrick Ballymolloy, who will win the election for either side he favors.”
”Who is this Irishman?” inquired Ronald.
”He is the chief Irishman,” said Sybil laughing, ”and I cannot describe him any better. He has twenty votes with him, and as things stand he always carries whichever point he favors. But Mr. Wyndham says he is glad he is not in the Legislature, because it would drive him out of his mind to decide on which side to vote--though he is a good Republican, you know.”
”Of course he could vote for Mr. Harrington in spite of that,” said Joe, confidently. ”Anybody would, who knows him, I am sure. But when is the election to come off?”
”They say it is to begin to-day,” said Sybil.
”We shall never hear anything unless we go to Mrs. Wyndham's,” said Joe.
”Aunt Zoe is awfully clever, and that, but she never knows in the least what is going on. She says she does not understand politics.”
”If you were a Bostonian, Mr. Surbiton,” said Sybil, ”you would get into the State House and hear the earliest news.”
”I will do anything in the world to oblige you,” said Ronald gravely, ”if you will only explain a little”--
”Oh no! It is quite impossible. Come with me, both of you, and we will get some lunch at the Wyndhams' and hear all about it by telephone.”
”Very well,” said Joe. ”One moment, while I get my things.” She left the room. Ronald and Sybil were again alone together.