Part 6 (1/2)
”And of course,” suggested Charlie Gower, ”in such good company you weren't in a hurry about looking for the rest of us.” I remembered the asparagus bed and was glad I had slapped him.
”No,” my companion looked him over very coolly, ”now that I've seen some of the rest of you I'm glad I didn't hurry.” Plainly it wasn't going to do to try to take it out of Helmeth Garrett.
As we began by common consent to move back to the spring, Forester drew me by the arm behind the hazel. He was divided between a brotherly disgust at my lapse, and delight to have caught the prim Olivia tripping.
”Well,” he exclaimed, ”you _have_ done it!” Considering what I knew of Forester's affairs this was unbearable.
”Oh! it isn't for _you_ to talk----”
”What I want to know is, whether I am to thrash him or not?”
”Thrash him?” I wondered.
”For getting you talked about ... off there in the woods all afternoon!”
”We weren't----” I began, but suddenly I saw the white bolls of the sycamores redden with the westering sun; we must have been three hours covering what was at most a half hour's walk. ”Don't be vulgar, Forester,” I went on, with my chin in the air.
”Oh, well,” was my brother's parting shot, ”I don't know as I ought to make any objection, seeing you didn't.”
That, I felt, was the weakness of my position; I not only hadn't made any objection, I hadn't felt any shame; the annoyance, the hurt of outraged maidenliness, whatever was the traditional att.i.tude, hadn't come. Inwardly I burned with the woods afire, the red west, the white star like a torch that came out above it. On the way home Helmeth Garrett rode with us as far as the main road and was particularly attentive to Pauline and Flora Haines. I remember it came to me dimly that there was something designedly protective in this; there was more or less veiled innuendo flying about which failed to get through to me.
Pauline put it quite plainly for me when she came to talk things over the day after the picnic. She was sympathetic.
”Oh, my dear, it must be dreadful for you,” she cooed; ”a perfect stranger, and getting you talked about that way!”
”So I am talked about?”
”My _dear_, what could you expect? And in plain sight of us. If you had only pushed him away, or something.”
”I couldn't,” I said, ”I was so ... astonished.” In the night I had found myself explaining to Pauline how this affair of Helmeth Garrett had differed importantly from all similar instances; now I saw its s.h.i.+ning surfaces dimmed with comment like unwiped gla.s.s.
”That's just what I _said_!” Pauline was pleased with herself. ”I told Belle Endsleigh you weren't used to that sort of thing ... you were _completely_ overcome. But of course he wasn't really a gentleman or he wouldn't have done it.” I do not know why at this moment it occurred to me that probably Henry Mills hadn't proposed to Pauline after all, but before I could frame a discreet question she was off in another direction.
”What will Tommy Bettersworth say?”
”Why, what has he got to do with it?”
”O-_liv_-ia! After the way you've encouraged him....”
”You mean because I went to the picnic with him? Well, what can he do about it?” Pauline gave me up with a gesture.
”Tommy is the soul of chivalry,” she said, ”and anybody can see he is crazy about you, simply crazy.” What I really wanted was that she should go on talking about Helmeth Garrett. I wanted ground for putting to her that since all we had been sedulously taught about kissing and all ”that sort of thing”--that it was horrid, cheapening, insufferable--had failed to establish itself, had in fact come as a sword, divining mystery, it couldn't be dealt with on the accepted Taylorville basis. I felt the quality of achievement in Helmeth Garrett's right to kiss me, a right which I was sure he lacked only the occasion to establish. But when the occasion came it went all awry.
It was the next Sunday morning, and all down Polk Street the frost-bitten flower borders were a little made up for by the pa.s.sage between the shoals of maple leaves that lined the walks, of whole flocks of bright winged, new fall hats on their way to church. Mother and Effie were in front and two of my Sunday-school scholars had scurried up like rabbits out of the fallen leaf.a.ge and tucked themselves on either side of my carefully held skirts. Suddenly there was a rattle of buggy wheels on the winter roughed road; it turned in by Niles's corner and drove directly toward us; the top was down and I made out by the quick p.r.i.c.king of my blood, the Garrett bays and Helmeth with his hat off, his hair tousled, and a bright soft tie swinging free of his vest. You saw heads turning all along the block in discreet censure of his unsabbatical behaviour. He recognized me almost immediately and turned the team with intention to our side of the street. He was going to speak to me ... he was speaking. My mother's back stiffened, she didn't know of course. Forrie wouldn't have had the face to tell her, but how many eyes on us up and down the street did know? A Sunday-school teacher in the midst of her scholars ... and he had kissed me on Thursday!
”Olivia,” said my mother, ”do you know that young man? Such manners ...
Sunday morning, too. Well, I am glad that you had the sense to ignore him;” and I did not know until that moment that I had.
It was because of my habit of living inwardly, I suppose, that it never occurred to me that the incident could have any other bearing on our relations than the secret one of confirming me in my impression of our intimacy being on a superior, excluding footing. He had come, as I was perfectly aware, to renew it at the point of breaking off, and this security quite blinded me to the effect my cold reception might have upon him. That he would fail to understand how I was hemmed and pinned in by Taylorville, hadn't occurred to me, not even when he pa.s.sed us again on the way home from church, driving recklessly. His hat was on this time, determinedly to one side, and he was smoking, smoking a cigar. I thought at first he had not seen me, but he turned suddenly when he was quite past and swept me a flourish with it held between two fingers of the hand that touched his hat.