Part 26 (2/2)

”It's windy,” he called softly, ”bring a wrap.”

The girl came, bringing her reefer jacket and her Tam and put them on in the hall. The jacket was blue, the Tam was scarlet, and both were jaunty. He regarded her in them with satisfaction.

”Now, there,” said he, with King William approval, ”I like that.”

They went down and out. She was tired, she said, so they sat on the bench under the wild orange. The moss, drooping from the branches, fluttered above them. The wind was fitful, lifting and dying. It was a grey night, with scattered mists lying low over the lake, while a shoal of little clouds were slipping across the face of the moon.

”It's been too soft and warm,” said he; ”it can't last.”

But Alexina s.h.i.+vered a little, for there was a chill whenever the wind rose.

”Walk down to the pier,” he begged, ”and back. Then you shall go in.”

The path led through the grove. Stopping to select an orange for her, he pa.s.sed his hand almost caressingly up and down a limb of the tree.

”And you begin to pick the oranges Monday?” said Alexina.

”Monday.”

”And this is Thursday.”

They walked on. He was peeling away the yellow rind that she might have a white cup to drink from.

”I won't be here to see the picking,” said Alexina. ”I have to go to Kentucky for two weeks, something about business. Uncle Austen wrote me in the letter you brought out to-day, that it would simplify things if I could come. And Emily--Emily Carringford, you know--Uncle Austen's wife, wrote too, asking me to stay with them.”

”So,” said he, ”you go--”

”Monday. I've been talking to your mother, and she's willing, if Captain Leroy and you are; I came out to ask you--I am always to be asking favors of your family, it seems--if you will let me leave Molly here instead of at the hotel. Celeste can attend to everything.”

”Why not?” asked w.i.l.l.y.

”It's--it's a business proposition,” said Alexina. But it took a bit of courage to bring it out.

”Is it?” said he.

”Or I can't do it, you know.”

They had reached the lake and were sitting like children on the edge of the pier. The water was ruffled, the incoming waves white-crested, and the wind was soughing a little around the boat-house behind them.

He was breaking bits off a twig and flinging them out to see them drift in.

”Great country this,” he said, ”that can't produce a pebble for a fellow to fling.”

He looked off toward the s.h.i.+ning, shadowy distance, where the moon gleamed against the mists. ”You are”--then he changed the form of his question--”are you very rich?”

”Leave the very out, and, yes, I suppose I am rich,” said Alexina.

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