Part 8 (2/2)

Edwarda looked up.

”The green ones are pretty,” she said; ”let me look, Doctor.”

”Keep them,” I cried. ”Yes, do, I beg you, now. Two green feathers. Do, as a kindness, let them be a keepsake.”

She looked at them and said:

”They are green and gold, as you turn them in the sun. Thank you, if you will give me them.”

”I should be glad to,” I said.

And she took the feathers.

A little later the Doctor handed me the book and thanked me. Then he got up and asked if it were not nearly time to be getting back.

I said: ”Yes, for Heaven's sake. I have a dog tied up at home; look you, I have a dog, and he is my friend; he lies there thinking of me, and when I come home he stands with his forepaws at the window to greet me.

It has been a lovely day, and now it is nearly over; let us go back. I am grateful to you all.”

I waited on the sh.o.r.e to see which boat Edwarda chose, and made up my mind to go in the other one myself. Suddenly she called me. I looked at her in surprise; her face was flushed. Then she came up to me, held out her hand, and said tenderly:

”Thank you for the feathers. You will come in the boat with me, won't you?”

”If you wish it,” I said.

We got into the boat, and she sat down beside me on the same seat, her knee touching mine. I looked at her, and she glanced at me for a moment in return. I began to feel myself repaid for that bitter day, and was growing happy again, when she suddenly changed her position, turned her back to me, and began talking to the Doctor, who was sitting at the rudder.

For a full quarter of an hour I did not exist for her. Then I did something I repent of, and have not yet forgotten. Her shoe fell off: I s.n.a.t.c.hed it up and flung it far out into the water, for pure joy that she was near, or from some impulse to make myself remarked, to remind her of my existence--I do not know. It all happened so suddenly I did not think, only felt that impulse.

The ladies set up a cry. I myself was as if paralyzed by what I had done, but what was the good of that? It was done. The Doctor came to my help; he cried ”Row,” and steered towards the shoe. And the next moment the boatman had caught hold of the shoe just as it had filled with water and was sinking; the man's arm was wet up to the elbow. Then there was a shout of ”Hurra” from many in the boats, because the shoe was saved.

I was deeply ashamed, and felt that my face changed color and winced, as I wiped the shoe with my handkerchief. Edwarda took it without a word.

Not till a little while after did she say:

”I never saw such a thing!”

”No, did you ever?” I said. And I smiled and pulled myself together, making as if I had played that trick for some particular reason--as if there were something behind it. But what could there be? The Doctor looked at me, for the first time, contemptuously.

A little time pa.s.sed; the boats glided homeward; the feeling of awkwardness among the party disappeared; we sang; we were nearing the land. Edwarda said:

”Oh, we haven't finished the wine: there is ever so much left. We must have another party, a new party later on; we must have a dance, a ball in the big room.”

When we went ash.o.r.e I made an apology to Edwarda.

”If you knew how I wished myself back in my hut!” I said. ”This has been a long and painful day.”

”Has it been a painful day for you, Lieutenant?”

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