Part 37 (1/2)

He clasped it, and welcomed her with joy that he could not have simulated any more than he could have hidden. There was a tremor in his voice; a hot sweep of blood flamed in his face like a confession of his secret soul.

”I never saw you look so tall,” said he slowly, measuring her with adoring eyes.

”Maybe it's the dress,” said she, looking herself over with a little expressive sweep of the hands, as if to put all the blame on that innocent nun-gray gown, if there was blame to be borne.

She wore a little bunch of mignonette upon her breast, just at the point where the slas.h.i.+ng of her bodice ended, and the gray gave way to a wedge of virginal white, as if her sempstress had started to lay bare her heart. The flowers quivered as from some internal agitation, nestling their pale gold spikes against their lovely bed.

”I don't know that it's the dress,” said he, ”but you do look taller than usual, it seems to me.”

She laughed, as if she found humor in his solemn repet.i.tion of such a trivial discovery.

”Well, I can't help being tall,” she said. ”How tall would you have a lady grow? How tall do you think one ought to be?”

”'As high as my heart,'” said Joe, remembering _Orlando's_ words.

The color deepened in her cheeks; she caught her breath with a little ”Oh!”

She wondered what sprout of blue-blooded and true-blooded n.o.bility in Shelbyville there was capable of turning a reply like that without straining for it more than that pale cavalier with his worn clothing hanging loose upon his bony frame. When she ventured to lift her eyes to his face, she found him grasping a bar of the cell door with one hand, as if he would tear it from its frame. His gaze was fixed upon the high window, he did not turn. She felt that he was struggling with himself that moment, but whether to drive to speech or to withhold it, she could not tell.

”I wish I could go out there and run about five miles this morning,” he sighed.

She gave him sigh for sigh, feeling that something was lost. He had not striven with himself merely to say that. But from there they went on to talk of his coming trial, and to expose the mutual hope that no further excuse would be advanced for its continuance. He seemed to be certain that the trial would see an end of his difficulty, and she trembled to contemplate any other outcome.

So they stood and talked, and her face was glowing and her eyes were bright.

”Your cheeks are as red as bitter-sweet,” said he.

”There was frost last night,” she laughed, ”and the cool wind makes my face burn.”

”I know just how it feels,” said he, looking again toward the window with pathetic wistfulness, the hunger of old longings in his eyes.

”It will not be long now until you are free,” she said in low voice of sympathy.

He was still looking at the brown branches of the bare elm, now palely touched with the cloud-filtered autumn sun.

”I know where there's lots of it,” said he, as if to himself, ”out in the hills. It loves to ramble over scrub-oak in the open places where there's plenty of sun. I used to pick armloads of it the last year I went to school and carry it to the teacher. She liked to decorate the room with it.”

He turned to her with apologetic appeal, as if to excuse himself for having wandered away from her in his thoughts.

”I put it over the mantel,” she nodded; ”it lasts all winter.”

”The wahoo's red now, too,” said he. ”Do you care for it?”

”It doesn't last as long as bitter-sweet,” said she.

”Bitter-sweet,” said he reflectively, looking down into the shadows which hung to the flagstones of the floor. Then he raised his eyes to hers and surprised them br.i.m.m.i.n.g with tears, for her heart was aching for him in a reflection of his own lonely pain.

”It is emblematic of life,” said he, reaching his hand out through the bars to her, as if to beg her not to grieve over the clouds of a day; ”you know there are lots of comparisons and verses and sayings about it in that relation. It seems to me that I've always had more of the bitter than the sweet--but it will all come out right in time.”

She touched his hand.