Part 36 (2/2)
Curious and various were the emotions which pa.s.sed in rapid succession over her pretty features; and not all seemed agreeable. Then suddenly her eyes reflected a hidden laughter, and presently it came forth, a merry peal, and sweet withal.
”Oh, Euan, what a boy you are! Had I been any other woman--but let it go. You are as translucent as a woodland brook, and--at times you babble like one, confident that your music pleases everyone who hears it.... I pray you let me judge whether the errant lady be what a poet's soul would have her.... I am not speaking with any unkind thought or doubt.... But woman must judge woman. It is the one thing no man can ever do for her. And the less he interferes during the judgment the better.”
”Then I'll say no more,” said I, forcing a smile.
”Oh, say all you please, as long as you do not tell me what you think about her. Tell me facts, not what your romantic heart surmises. And if she were the queen of Sheba in disguise, or if she were a t.i.tled Saint James drab, no honest woman but who would see through and through her, and, ere she rose from her low reverence, would know her truly for exactly what she is.”
”Lord!” said I. ”Is that the way you read us, also?”
”No. Women may read women. But never one who lived has read truly any man, humble or high. Say that to the next pretty baggage who vows she reads you like a book! And in her secret heart she will know you say the truth--and know it, raging even while her smile remains unaltered.
For it is true, Euan; true concerning you men, also. Not one among you all has ever really read us right. The difference is this; we know we can not read you, but scorn to admit it; you honestly believe that you can read us, and often boast of doing it. Which s.e.x is the greater fool, judge you? I have my own opinion.”
We both laughed; after a moment she put on her sun-mask and I tied it.
”Where do you and Mrs. Lansing lodge until your husband's regiment returns?” I asked.
”They have given us the old Croghan house. What it lacks in elegance of appointment it gains in hospitality. If we had a dish of tea to brew for you gentlemen we would do it; but Indian willow makes a vile and bitter tea, and I had as lief go tealess, as I do and expect to continue until our husbands teach the Tory King his manners.”
She rose, giving me her pretty hand to aid her, shook out her dainty skirts, put up her quizzing gla.s.s, and inspected me, smilingly.
”Bring her when you think it time,” she said. ”Somehow I already believe that she may be something of what your fancy paints her. And that would be a miracle.”
”Truly she is a miracle,” I said earnestly.
”Then remember not to say it to Angelina Lansing--and above all never hint as much to Lana Helmer. Women are human; and pretty women perhaps a little less than human. Leave them to me. For if this romantic damsel be truly what you picture her, I'll have to tell a pretty fib or two concerning her and you, I warrant you. Leave that saucy baggage, Lanette, to me, Euan. And you keep clear of her, too. She's murderous to men's peace of mind--more fatal than ever since Clarissa played the fool.”
”I was a.s.sa.s.sinated by Lana long ago,” said I, smiling. ”I am proof.”
”Nevertheless, beware!” she whispered, as Boyd and Lana came sauntering up. And there seemed to me to be now about them both a careless indifference, almost studied, and in noticeable contrast to their bright animation when they had left us half an hour ago.
”Such a professional heart-breaker as your Mr. Boyd is,” observed Lana coolly to us both. ”I never before encountered such a.s.surance. What he must be in queue and powder, silk and small-sword, I dare not surmise.
A pitying heaven has protected me so far, and,” she added, looking deliberately at Boyd, ”I ought to be grateful, ought I not, sir?”
Boyd made her a too low and over-courtly bow.
”Always the gallant and victorious adversary salutes the vanquished as you, fair lady, have saluted me--imputing to my insignificant prowess the very skill and address which has overthrown me.”
”Are you overthrown?”
”p.r.o.ne in the dust, mademoiselle! Draw Mr. Loskiel's knife and end me now in mercy.”
”Then I will strike.... Who is the handsome wench who pa.s.sed us but a moment since, and who looked at you with her very heart trembling in her eyes?”
”How should I know?”
They stood looking smilingly at each other; and their smile did not seem quite genuine to me, but too clear, and a trifle hard, as though somehow it was a sort of mask for some subtler defiance. I reflected uneasily that no real understanding could be possible between these two in such a brief acquaintance; and, rea.s.sured, turned to greet our macaroni Ensign and Mistress Angelina Lansing, now approaching us.
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