Part 17 (2/2)

Who can estimate the value of a happiness so momentary, yet so holy?

Presently looking up, she saw David's face illuminated. ”What is it?”

she asked joyously; ”you look pleased.”

David was ”pleased because now he was sure she could feel for him, and would side with him.”

”That I do; but, David, as it is all over between you and her--”

”All over? Am I dead then?”

Eve gasped with astonishment: ”Why, what have I been telling you all this for?”

”Who should you tell your trouble to but your own brother? Why, Eve--ha! ha!--you don't really see any likeness between your case and mine, do you? You are not so blind as to compare her with that thundering m.u.f.f?”

”They are brother and sister, as we are,” was the reply. ”Ever since I saw you looked her way, my eye has hardly been off her, and she is Henry d.y.k.e in petticoats.”

”I don't thank you for saying that. Well, and if she is, what has that to do with it? I am not a woman. I am not forced to lie to waiting for a wind, as the girls are. I am a man. I can work for the wish of my heart, and, if it does not come to meet me, I can overhaul it.” Eve was a little staggered by this thrust, but she was not one to show an antagonist any advantage he had obtained. ”David,” said she, coldly, ”it must come to one of two things; either she will send you about your business in form, which is a needless affront for you and me both, or she will hold you in hand, and play with you and drive you _mad._ Take warning; remember what is in our blood. Father was as well as you are, but agitation and vexation robbed him of his reason for a while; and you and I are his children. Milk of roses creeps along in that young lady's veins, but fire gallops in ours. Give her up, David, as she has you. She has let you escape; don't fly back like a moth to the candle! You shan't, however; I won't let you.”

”Eve,” said David, quietly, ”you argue well, but you can't argue light into dark, nor night into day. She is the sun to me. I have seen her light; and now I can't live without it.”

He added, more calmly: ”It is her or none. I never saw a girl but this that I wanted to see twice, and I never shall.”

”But it is that which frightens me for you, David. Often I have wished I could see you flirt a bit and harden your heart.”

”And break some poor girl's.”

”Oh, hang them! they always contrive to pa.s.s it on. What do I care for girls! they are not my brother. But no, David, I can't believe you will go against me and my judgment after the insult she has put on you. No more about it, but just you choose between my respect and this wild-goose chase.”

”I choose both,” said David, quietly. ”Both you shan't have”; and, with this, up bounced Eve, and stood before him bristling like a cat-o'mountain. David tried to soothe her--to coax her--in vain; her cheek was on fire, and her eyes like basilisks'. It was a picture to see the pretty little fury stand so erect and threatening, great David so humble and deprecating, yet so dogged. At last he took out his knife; it was not one of your stabbing-knives, but the sort of pruning-knife that no sailor went without in those days. ”Now,” said he, sadly, ”take and cut my head off--cut me to pieces, if you will--I won't wince or complain; and then you will get your way; but while I do live I shall love her, and I can't afford to lose her by sitting twiddling my thumbs, waiting for luck. I'll try all I know to win her, and if I lose her I won't blame her, but myself for not finding out how to please her; and with that I'll live a bachelor all my days for her, or else die, just as G.o.d wills--I shan't much care which.”

”Oh, I know you, you obstinate toad,” said Eve, clinching her teeth and her little hand. Then she burst out furiously: ”Are you quite resolved?”

”Quite, dear Eve,” said David, sadly--but somehow it was like a rock speaking.

”Then there is my hand,” said Eve, with an instant transition to amiable cheerfulness that dazzled a body like a dark lantern flying open. Used as David was to her, it stupefied him; he stared at her, and was all abroad. ”Well, what is the wonder now?” inquired Eve; ”there are but two of us. We must be together somehow or another must we not? You won't be wise with me; well, then, I'll be a fool with you. I'll help you with this girl.”

”Oh, my dear Eve!”

”You won't gain much. Without me you hadn't the shadow of a chance, and with me you haven't a chance, that is all the odds.”

”I have! I have! you have taken away my breath with joy;” and David was quite overcome with the turn Eve had taken in his favor.

”Oh, you need not thank me,” said Eve, tossing her head with a hypocrisy all her own. ”It is not out of affection for you I do it, you may be very sure of that; but it looks so ridiculous to see my brother slipping out of my way behind a tree as soon as he sees me coming--oh! oh! oh! oh!” And a violent burst of sobs and tears revealed how that incident had rankled in this stoical little heart.

David, with the tear in his own eye, clasped her in his arms, and kissed her and coaxed her and begged her again and again to forgive him. This she did internally at the first word; but externally no; pouted and sobbed till she had exacted her full tribute, then cleared up with sudden alacrity and inquired his plans.

”I am going to call at Font Abbey, and find out whether I have offended her.”

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