Part 36 (1/2)
'Where? If she's in London, she's swallowed up. If she's gone to another place, it's still more difficult to find her.'
'There's the Agony Column!'
'If Esther wanted us to know her address, what can prevent her sending it?' asked Addie with dignity.
'I'd find her soon enough, if I wanted to,' murmured Sidney.
'Yes; but I'm not sure we want to. After all, she cannot be so nice as I thought. She certainly behaved very ungratefully to Mrs. Goldsmith.
You see what comes of wild opinions.'
'Addie! Addie!' said Sidney reproachfully, 'how _can_ you be so conventional?'
'I'm _not_ conventional,' protested Addie, provoked at last. 'I always liked Esther very much. Even now, nothing would give me greater pleasure than to have her for a bridesmaid. But I can't help feeling she deceived us all.'
'Stuff and nonsense!' said Sidney warmly. 'An author has a right to be anonymous. Don't you think I'd paint anonymously if I dared? Only, if I didn't put my name to my things, no one would buy them. That's another of the advantages of my profession. Once make your name as an artist, and you can get a colossal income by giving up art.'
'It was a vulgar book!' persisted Addie, sticking to the point.
'Fiddlesticks! It was an artistic book--bungled.'
'Oh, well!' said Addie, as the tears welled from her eyes, 'if you're so fond of unconventional girls, you'd better marry them.'
'I would,' said Sidney, 'but for the absurd restriction against polygamy.'
Addie got up with an indignant jerk. 'You think I'm a child to be played with!'
She turned her back upon him. His face changed instantly; he stood still a moment, admiring the magnificent pose. Then he recaptured her reluctant hand.
'Don't be jealous already, Addie,' he said. 'It's a healthy sign of affection, is a storm-cloud; but don't you think it's just a wee, tiny, weeny bit too previous?'
A pressure of the hand accompanied each of the little adjectives.
Addie sat down again, feeling deliciously happy. She seemed to be lapped in a great drowsy ecstasy of bliss.
The sunset was fading into sombre greys before Sidney broke the silence; then his train of thought revealed itself.
'If you're so down on Esther, I wonder how you can put up with me! How is it?'
Addie did not hear the question.
'You think I'm a very wicked, blasphemous boy,' he insisted. 'Isn't that the thought deep down in your heart of hearts?'
'I'm sure tea must be over long ago,' said Addie anxiously.
'Answer me,' said Sidney inexorably.
'Don't bother. Aren't they cooeying for us?'
'Answer me.'