Part 35 (1/2)
”Very good game if it is played properly. I have a mind to teach you.”
”Well, you will not!”
”I think I shall. It is either marry you or leave California.”
”That is a threat unworthy of you.”
”No threat at all. If you will not permit me to protect you in one way I must in another. I leave and throw everything over with great eclat. You have discarded me and I cannot stand the proximity.”
”They might merely think that you were running away from me.”
”I shall take good care they think what I choose. Women are more romantic and sentimental than malignant, the bulk. All they want is a starter.”
”But you need not leave California. You can move to San Francisco.”
”Now you are talking like a child. I shall return to England. As to my American career, my only chance lies here. I hate the rest of the country, and the best material is in California, anyhow. Yesterday I received a letter from my solicitor, enclosing one from Jimmy, who informed me that I was on every tongue, that the public curiosity was piqued, that the newspapers were demanding that I should return and accept my responsibilities, and that without doubt a place would be made for me in the new Liberal Cabinet. It is a propitious moment for return. If there is a time when a Liberal peer can make any running it is when his party is in power.”
There was a pause for several moments. Gwynne filled and lit another pipe. Isabel stared at a ring she twisted about her finger, Mr. Clink at the geranium stump. The low dull roar in the forest tops was unceasing, but for other sound of life they might have swung off into s.p.a.ce.
Finally Isabel spoke. ”I won't marry you,” she said. ”But all ends will be served if we announce an engagement. We can state that we think it best not to marry until your law studies are concluded. It can be postponed once or twice on other pretexts, then fall through. By that time gossip will be forgotten, people will have lost interest in us. In San Francisco they are not likely to hear of this at all, or if they do it will not matter, and if you fall in love with any of the _cotillon_ beauties I will release you in due form and give you my blessing.”
”I have not the least intention of undertaking life with a _cotillon_ beauty. Your compromise will do for the present, but you will understand that my proposal is a bona fide one, should you arrive at a more rational frame of mind.”
”I sha'n't fall a victim to any irrational state of mind. I won't marry.
Why, even people that like me too much interfere with my sense of liberty.”
Gwynne laughed. ”We had better be starting,” he said.
x.x.xI
They parted at the foot of the mountain, and as Isabel approached her own house she saw Anabel Colton's trap tied to the garden gate. She set her teeth and slackened the pace of her horse, but Anabel and Miss Boutts had seen her, and leaned over the edge of the veranda, calling to her impatiently. She gave her horse a cut with the whip and rode rapidly to the stable. When she finally reached the veranda she greeted her friends courteously enough, and then, as she noted their expression of defiant loyalty, remarked, sweetly:
”Of course you have been expecting to hear that I am engaged to Mr.
Gwynne, but I only really made up my mind to-day.”
”Isabel!” Both fell on her neck, Dolly with tears, and she responded with what enthusiasm was in her, and gently deposited them into two of the veranda chairs. With a very fair simulation of the engaged girl she answered their rapid fire of questions, and even informed Anabel that she would prefer silver to china when the day for presents arrived, and promised that she should come to the rehearsal of the ceremony, since, unfortunately, the young matron's own happy state debarred her from officiating at the altar. But she was averse from lying, even by implication, and was glad to see them go. After they had turned for the last time to blow her a kiss, she went within, slammed all the doors on the lower floor, stamped her feet, and hurled a book across the room.
Finally she swore. After that she felt better and sat down to read a letter from Mrs. Hofer that awaited her.
”... I can't do anything with your Lady Victoria” [the lively young matron ran on after a few preliminary enthusiasms]. ”She went everywhere at first, but just sat round looking like a battered statue out of the Vatican with some concession in the way of clothes--not so much.
Literally she made no effort whatever, and, you know, _American men won't stand that_. Perhaps that's the reason she suddenly called off and refused to go anywhere. But what can she expect? American women may talk too much, but at any rate they are the sort American men know like a book, and our knights have no use for inanimate beauties a good many years younger than my Lady Victoria.
”Now she appears to do nothing but walk--stalk rather. She goes over these hills as if she had on seven-league boots. One would think she was possessed by the furies; or perhaps she is afraid of getting fat.