Part 30 (1/2)

”Beautifully.”

”That's good. Hurry it right along, for I'm plannin' to have dinner at twelve an' get it out of the way.”

”But the car isn't coming for us until three o'clock.”

”'Twill take that time to wash up the dishes an' rig Willie up.”

”Not three hours!”

”You don't know him. We'll have our hands full to head him away from that thing he's makin'. All I pray is no new scheme ketches him while he's dressin', for 'twill be all day with the party if it does.”

Fortunately no such misadventure befell. Willie was corralled, his protests smothered, and he was led placidly away by Bob, to emerge after an interval resigned as a lamb for the slaughter. Even the homespun suit could not wholly banish his native charm, for after it was once on he forgot its existence and wore it with an ease almost too oblivious to suit Celestina.

Not so she! On the contrary she issued from her chamber conscious of every article of finery adorning her plump person. She settled, unsettled, resettled her hat a dozen times, and tried no less than a score of locations for her large cameo pin. Her freshly washed lisle gloves had unfortunately shrunk in the drying and refused to go on at the finger tips, and from each digit projected a sharply defined glove end which kept her busy pus.h.i.+ng and pulling most of the afternoon. So occupied was Delight with tying Willie's cravat and rearranging the spray of flowers on Celestina's bonnet that she had not a moment to consider her own toilet which was hastily made after everything else was done. Yet as Robert Morton looked at her, he thought that nothing could have graced her more completely than did her simple gown of muslin. There was in the frock a demureness almost Quaker-like which as a foil for her beauty breathed the very essence of coquetry. What lover could have failed to feel proud of such a treasure?

Nevertheless, Bob had his qualms about the prospective visit. He was not concerned for Willie or Celestina. They were what they were and any one of discrimination would recognize their worth. Nor did he entertain fears for Delight or the Galbraiths. All of them could be relied upon to meet the situation with ease and dignity. But Cynthia--what would be her att.i.tude? Of late, when she had come over in the car with Mr. Snelling, she had maintained a distant politeness which would have been amusing had it not been ominous. He wondered how she would conduct herself today, not alone toward him but toward the girl whom she could not but regard as her rival. How much did she guess, he speculated, of the romance that was taking place in the rose-covered cottage on the bluff. And if she had guessed nothing, might not Snelling, leaping at conclusions, have gone back to Belleport there to spread idle gossip of the love-story? What would Howard Snelling know of the delicate situation 'twixt himself and Mr.

Galbraith's daughter? And even though no rumors of the affair reached Cynthia at all, Robert Morton was old enough to sense the hazard of introducing one woman to another.

Well, the risk must be taken; there was no escape from it now. Even as these disquieting imaginings chased themselves through his mind, the car stopped before the door and Roger Galbraith, who had come to meet the guests, entered at the gate. No courtesy that would add to their comfort had been omitted. There were rugs and extra wraps, and a drive along the sh.o.r.e road had been planned as an added pleasure.

Willie, his back actually turned on his beloved workshop, was in the seventh heaven.

”What you settin' on the peaked edge of the seat for, Celestina?” he asked when once they were in the automobile. ”The thing ain't goin' to blow up or break down. Let your whole heft sink into the cus.h.i.+ons an'

enjoy yourself. 'Tain't often you get the chance to go a-ridin'.”

His joy in the novel experience was as unalloyed and as transparent as a child's.

”My soul!” he e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed as the vehicle turned at last into the broad avenue leading to the Galbraith estate. ”Ain't this a big place!

Big's a hotel an' some to spare.”

Even after the introductions had been performed and he had sunk into a wicker chair beside his host, with a great pillow behind him to keep him from being swallowed up and lost entirely, he abated not a whit of his gladness, admiring the flowers, the smoothly cut lawns, and the ocean view until he radiated good humor on all sides. But it was when the tea wagon was rolled out and placed before Madam Lee that his interest was not to be curbed.

”Ain't that cute now?” he commented, his eyes following the unaccustomed sight with alertness. ”The feller that got a-holt of that idee found a good one. Trundles along like a little baby carriage, don't it?”

Nothing would satisfy him until he had examined every part of the invention, and Celestina trembled lest then and there his brain be stimulated to action and he make a bolt for home to complete without delay some sudden scheme the novelty had engendered. However, no such calamity occurred. He drank his tea with satisfaction and was presently borne off by Mr. Galbraith to inspect a recently purchased barometer. After he had gone the company broke up into little groups.

Mrs. Galbraith and Celestina betook themselves to a shaded corner, there to exchange felicitations on Miss Morton's nephew; Roger, Cynthia, and Bob perched on the broad piazza rail and discussed the recent boat race; and Madam Lee was left alone with Delight. Robert Morton looked in vain for Mr. Snelling but he was nowhere to be seen, and presently he learned that that gentleman had taken one of the cars and gone for an afternoon's spin to Sawyer's Falls. Whether his absence was a contributory cause or not, certain it was that for the time being at least Cynthia lapsed into her customary friendly manner and quite outdid herself in graciousness.

Bob relaxed his tension. The afternoon was moving on with more serenity than he had dared hope, and inwardly he began to congratulate himself on the success of it. To judge from appearance every one was in the serenest frame of mind. Willie was beaming into his host's face, and both men were laughing immoderately; Celestina, from the s.n.a.t.c.hes of conversation that reached him, was relating for Mrs.

Galbraith's benefit the symptoms of her late illness; and Madam Lee was chatting with Delight as with an old-time friend. Bob longed to join them, but prudence forbade his leaving Cynthia's side. Moreover he suspected the tete-a-tete was of the old lady's arranging and he dared not break in on it. If Madam Lee desired his presence, she was quite capable of commanding it by one of those characteristically imperious waves of her hand. But she did not summon him. Instead she sat with her keen little eyes fixed on the girl opposite as if fascinated by her beauty. Once Bob heard her ask Delight of the Brewsters and caught fragments that indicated they were talking of the child's early life in the village.

It was Celestina who at length broke in on the conversation.

”I guess we must be thinkin' of goin', Delight, don't you? We have a long ride back, you know.”

”Delight!” echoed Madam Lee, repeating the word with surprise.

”A queer name, ain't it?” Celestina put in. ”So old-fas.h.i.+oned an'