Part 18 (1/2)

XV

PINKEY CHALMERS CALLS AGAIN

Never having been within hailing distance before of the processes of love and proceedings of courts.h.i.+p there were no signposts in my experience to guide me as to what should be my next step, if it were mine to take. I had been too busy a woman to indulge in many novels, but in the few I had read the hero lost no time in saying, ”Will you?” and at once somebody began to practise the wedding march. I suppose the fas.h.i.+on in lovemaking changes as much as the styles; nothing I ever thought or dreamed on the subject seemed to fit the case in hand.

I waited for Zura to tell me, but she didn't. She only sang the more as she went about her work, doubling her efforts in making sweet the home and herself. She seemed to find fresh joy in every hour.

Any thoughts I'd cherished that young Hanaford would come at once, clear up all the confusion about himself, frankly declare his love for Zura and be happy forever afterward died from lack of nourishment.

Only my deep affection for the boy restrained my anger at his silence.

The love and sympathy which bolstered up my faith in him were reinforced by his gentle breeding and high mental quality; but circ.u.mstances forced me reluctantly to admit that the story he told when he first came was not true. Page Hanaford was not only under a shadow, but also was undoubtedly seeking to conceal his whereabouts. And why? The question sat on the foot of my bed at night and made faces at me, scrawled itself all over my work and met me around every corner.

It was next to impossible to connect him with dishonesty or baseness when looking into his face, or hearing him talk. But why didn't he speak out, and why hide his talents in this obscure place? He was gifted. His cla.s.ses had increased to large numbers, and so excellent were his methods his fame had gone abroad. The Department of Education had offered him a lucrative position as teacher in the Higher Normal College in a neighboring city. But, instead of s.n.a.t.c.hing at this good fortune, he asked for time to consider.

He came frequently to talk it over with me; at least that's what he said he came for. The law required the applicant for such a position to answer questions concerning himself and all his ancestors. In my talks with Page about this law I emphasized every detail of the intimate questions that would be put to him. I tried to impress upon him the necessity of having either a clean record, or a very clever tongue when he went before the judgment seat of the j.a.panese authorities. I hoped my seriousness would bring about a speedy explanation, denial, declaration--anything, so it came quickly. The truth is I don't believe he ever heard a word of what I said on the subject.

If Zura was out of the room, his eyes were glued to the door watching for it to open. If she were present, his eyes would be fixed on her face. If I made an excuse to leave the room, Page made another to keep me, as if he feared the thing he most desired. What did it all mean? If Page Hanaford could not explain himself honorably, what right had he to look at the girl with his heart in his eyes? If no explanation could be given, what right had Zura Wingate to grow prettier and happier every day?

I had always believed that love was as simple and straightforward as finding the end of a blind alley. There was good reason for me to change my belief as the days pa.s.sed and nothing was said on the subject.

Of course, I could have hauled the two up before me, like children, and told them what I had seen and was still seeing; but I dreaded to force the man's secret and I had to acknowledge that, for the time, I was no more equal to guiding this thing called ”love” than I was to instructing birds to build a nest.

Jane was not a bit of help to me. Refusing to discuss anything except the sentimental side of the affair, she repeated verse till I was almost persuaded this poetical streak was a disease rather than a habit.

Between stanzas she proffered food and drink to Page, in quant.i.ties sufficient to end quickly both man and mystery, had he accepted. Her att.i.tude to Zura was one of perfect understanding and entire sympathy.

Every time she looked at the girl, she sighed and went off into more poetry.

Troubled thoughts stormed my brain as hailstones pelt a tin roof. I prayed for wisdom as I had never prayed for happiness.

The announcement one day that Mr. Tom Chalmers had called caused no sudden rise in my spirits, but a second card, bearing the name of Mrs.

Tom, somewhat relieved my mind. Their coming offered a diversion and proved Pinkey of a forgiving spirit.

They were on their wedding journey, he told us after I had summoned Zura. Greetings and congratulations were soon over. While the steamer was coaling in a near-by port he thought he would just run over in jinrikishas to say ”h.e.l.lo!” and show Mrs. Chalmers to us. Yankee Doodle with a hat full of feathers could not have been more proud.

What there was of Mrs. Pinkey to exhibit was indeed a show. Her youthful prettiness belonged more to the schoolroom period than wifehood; and Heaven forbid that the clothes she wore should be typical of my country; there was not enough material in her skirt to make me a comfortable pair of sleeves! I marveled how, in so limited a s.p.a.ce, she advanced one limb before the other.

Later Zura explained the process to me: ”It's a matter of politeness, Ursula. One knee says to the other, 'You let me pa.s.s this time, and I'll step aside when your turn comes.'”

Even this courtesy had failed to prevent a catastrophe; one seam of her dress was ripped for a foot above the ankle. The coat of this remarkable costume was all back and no front, and from the rear edge of her hat floated a wonderful feather like a flag from the stern of a gunboat.

I could see by her face how funny she thought my clothes. I hoped she did not realize how near to scandalous her outfit seemed to me. Usually the point of view depends on which side of the ocean one is when delivering judgment.

Pinkey was as eloquent on the subject of his wedding as if he had been the only Adam who ever marched down a church aisle. He was most joyful at the prospect of showing to his bride all the curiosities and shortcomings of the East. He felt he had encompa.s.sed wide and intimate knowledge of it in his two or three trips. I asked Mrs. Chalmers how she liked j.a.pan.

She took her adoring eyes off her newly-acquired husband long enough to answer: ”It is lovely. Wonderful little people--so progressive and clean. It's too bad they are so dishonest; of course you must have lost a lot of money.”

”No, I can't say that I have. I've been in the country thirty years and never lost a 'rin' except when my pocket was torn. Come to think of it, if histories, travelers and police records state facts, dishonesty is not peculiar to the Orient.”