Part 15 (1/2)

”She's got a perfect right to take me or throw me, but she's no right to do both!”

Only the Northerners enjoyed Halliday. The Suez men turned away in disdain.

The music struck a quadrille, sweetly whining and hooting twice over before starting into doubtful history,

”In eighteen hundred and sixty-one--to the war! to the war!”

The dance springs out! Gray jackets and white trousers; tarlatan, flowers, and fans; here and there a touch of powder or rouge; some black broadcloth and much wrinkled doeskin. Jeff-Jack and Fannie move hand in hand, and despite the ba.s.soon's contemptuous ”pooh! pooh! poo-poo-pooh!”

the fiddles declare, with petulant vehemence, that--

”In eighteen-hundred-and-sixty-one, the Yankees _they_ the war _begun_, but we'll all! get! blind! drunk! when Johnnie comes marching home.”

”You see we play the national--oh! no, I believe that's not one--but we do play them!” said a native.

John didn't march home, although when some one wanted a window open which had been decorated to stay shut, neither he nor his committee could be found. He came in, warm and anxious, just in time to claim Fannie for their schottische. At ten they walked out on the veranda and took seats at its dark end. She was radiant, and without a sign of the mild dismay that was in her bosom. When she said, ”Now, tell me, John, why you're so sad,” there was no way for him to see that she was secretly charging herself not to lie and not to cry.

”Miss Fannie,” he replied, ”you're breaking my heart.”

”Aw, now, John, are you going to spoil our friends.h.i.+p this way?”

”Friends.h.i.+p!--Oh, Fannie!”

”Miss Fannie, if you please, Mister John.”

”Ah! has it come to that? And do you hide that face?”--For Fannie had omitted to charge herself not to smile at the wrong time--”Have you forgotten the day we parted here five years ago?”

”Why, no. I don't remember what day of the week it was, but I--I remember it. Was it Friday? What day was it?”

”Fannie, you mock me! Ah! you thought me but a boy, then, but I loved you with a love beyond my years; and now as a man, I----”

”Oh! a man! Mr. March, there's an end to this bench. No! John, I don't mock you; I honor you; I've always been proud of you--Now--now, John, let go my hand! John, if you don't let go my hand I'll leave you; you naughty boy!--No, I won't answer a thing till you let me go! John March, let go my hand this instant! Now I shall sit here. You'll keep the bench, please. Yes, I do remember it all, and regret it!” She turned away in real dejection, saying, in her heart, ”But I shall do no better till I die--or--or get married!”

She faced John again. ”Oh, if I'd thought you'd remember it forty days it shouldn't have occurred! I saw in you just a brave, pure-hearted, sensible boy. I thought it would be pleasant, and even elevating--to you--while it lasted, and that you'd soon see how--how ineligible--indeed I did!” Both were silent.

”Fannie Halliday,” said John at last, standing before her as slim and rank as a sapling, but in the dignity of injured trust, ”when year after year you saw I loved you, why did you still play me false!”

”Now, Mr. March, you're cruel.”

”Miss Fannie Halliday, have you been kind?”

”I meant to be! I never meant to cheat you! I kept hoping you'd understand! Sometimes I tried to make you understand, didn't I? I'm very sorry, John. I know I've done wrong. But I--I meant well. I really did!”

The youth waved an arm. ”You've wrecked my life. Oh, Fannie, I'm no mere sentimentalist. I can say in perfect command of these wild emotions, 'Enchantress, fare thee well!'”

”Oh, fare thee fiddlesticks!” Fannie rose abruptly. ”No, no, I didn't mean that, John, but--aw! now, I didn't _mean_ to smile! Oh, let's forget the past--oh! now, yes, you can! Let's just be simple, true friends! And one of these days you'll love some sweet, true girl, and she'll love you and I'll love her, and--” she took his arm. He looked down on her.

”_I_ love again!--_I_--? Ah! how little you women understand men! Oh, Fannie! to love twice is never to have loved. You are my first--my last!”

”Oh, no, I'm not,” said Fannie, blithely and aloud, as they reentered the room. Then softly, behind her fan, ”I've a better one in store for you, now!”