Part 4 (2/2)
”Don't see anything to look ahead to. We might say we'll wait for each other,--I'm willing,--and something tells me you are! But,--that's an unsatisfactory arrangement----”
”It's all of that! Oh, hang it all, Dork, I'll go into some respectable business and earn a living. I'll give up my plans and----”
”If you do that, you may as well go in for Buns.”
”Buns! I thought you scorned the idea!”
”Princ.i.p.ally because I want you to be an inventor. But if you give up your life work,--oh, Rick, what could you do?”
”Nothing much at first. I'd have to take a clerk-s.h.i.+p or something and work up.”
”I'm willing to share poverty with you,--in theory,--but you don't realize what the reality would mean to us. Not only because we're both accustomed to having everything we want, but more especially because in these days it's too dangerous. Suppose we lived on the tiniest possible income, and then you fell ill,--or I did,--or you lost your position,--or anything that interrupted our livelihood,--then, we'd have to go back to mother or to your aunt,--and--dost like the picture?”
”I dost not! It's out of the question. I love you too much, and too truly to take such desperate chances. I think, after all, Dork, the Buns are our one best bet!”
”Binny's Buns! 'Get a Bun!' Oh, Rikki, couldn't hold up my head!”
”I know it,--you little inborn aristocrat! And I feel the same way about it. Well, we've got to go home and face the music, I suppose.”
”Yes, and we've got to go now. I'll get more and worse scolding for every minute I stay here.”
”Also, if Eliza tells your mother, she'll be sending Kate for you.”
”Yes, or coming herself. Come along, let's start.”
The walk home was saddened by the thought that it was the last. Able to face the situation, both knew there was no hope that they should be allowed to continue their acquaintance, and knew that now it was discovered, they would very soon be as widely separated as the efforts of their elders could arrange.
Their pace slowed down as they neared The Campanile.
”Dear old place,” said Dorcas, as the house came into their ken.
”Dear old nothing,” returned Bates. ”I think it's an eyesore, don't you?
That bunch of Mexican onyx ought to be taken away to make kings'
sarcophagi!”
”What a thought! Yes, it's hideous,--but I didn't mean its appearance.
Its dear to me because we've lived here together, and I've a premonition that before long widely separated roofs will cover our heads.”
”I'll conquer somehow!” Bates declared. ”I haven't made many protestations, but I tell you, Dork, I'm coming out on top of this heap!”
”What are you going to do? Something desperate?”
”Maybe so,--maybe only something queer. But get you, I shall and I will!
You're intended for my mate by an Omniscient Fate, and I'm going to find some way to help said Fate along. She seems to be sidetracked for the moment.”
”I wish I had more faith in your Fate helping. Oh, don't look like that!
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