"Who was that girl on the bridge?"he now inquired as we reached the steps of the post-office;and when I had told him again,because he had asked me about Eliza La Heu at the time,"She's the real thing,"he commented."Quite extraordinary,you know,her dignity,when poor old awful Charley was messing everything--he's so used to mere money,you know,that half the time he forgets people are not dollars,and you have to kick him to remind him--yes,quite perfect dignity.Gad,it took a lady to climb up and sit by that ragged old darky and take her dead dog away in the cart!The cart and the darky only made her look what she was all the more.Poor Kitty couldn't do that--she'd look like a chambermaid!
Well,old man,see you again."
I stood on the post-office steps looking after Beverly Rodgers as he crossed Court Street.His admirably good clothes,the easy finish of his whole appearance,even his walk,and his back,and the slope of his shoulders,were unmistakable.The Southern men,going to their business in Court Street,looked at him.Alas,in his outward man he was as a rose among weeds!And certainly,no well-born American could unite with an art more hedonistic than Beverly's the old school and the nouveau jeu!
Over at the other corner he turned and stood admiring the church and gazing at the other buildings,and so perceived me still on the steps.
With a gesture of remembering something he crossed back again.
"You've not seen Miss Rieppe?"
"Why,of course I haven't!"I exclaimed.Was everybody going to ask me that?
"Well,something's up,old boy.Charley has got the launch away with him--and I'll bet he's got her away with him,too.Charley lied this morning.""Is lying,then,so rare with him?"
"Why,it rather is,you know.But I've come to be able to spot him when he does it.Those little bulgy eyes of his look at you particularly straight and childlike.He said he had to hunt up a man on business--V-CChemical Company,he called it--"
"There is such a thing here,"I said.
"Oh,Charley'd never make up a thing,and get found out in that way!But he was lying all the same,old man.""Do you mean they've run off and got married?""What do you take them for?Much more like them to run off and not get married.But they haven't done that either.And,speaking of that,Ibelieve I've gone a bit adrift.Your fire-eater,you know--she is an extraordinary woman!"And Beverly gave his mellow,little humorous chuckle."Hanged if I don't begin to think she does fancy him.""Well!"I cried,"that would explain--no,it wouldn't.Whence comes your theory?""Saw her look at him at dinner once last night.We dined with some people--Cornerly.She looked at him just once.Well,if she intends--by gad,it upsets one's whole notion of her!""Isn't just one look rather slight basis for--""Now,old man,you know better than that!"Beverly paused to chuckle."My grandmother Livingston,"he resumed,"knew Aaron Burr,and she used to say that he had an eye which no honest woman could meet without a blush.
I don't know whether your fire-eater is a Launcelot,or a Galahad,but that girl's eye at dinner--""Did he blush?"I laughed.
"Not that I saw.But really,old man,confound it,you know!He's no sort of husband for her.How can he make her happy and how can she make him happy,and how can either of them hit it off with the other the least little bit?She's expensive,he's not;she's up-to-date,he's not;she's of the great world,he's provincial.She's all derision,he's all faith.
Why,hang it,old boy,what does she want him for?"Beverly's handsome brow was actually furrowed with his problem;and,as Icertainly could furnish him no solution for it,we stood in silence on the post-office steps."What can she want him for?"he repeated.Then he threw it off lightly with one of his chuckles."So glad I've no daughters to marry!Well--I must go draw some money."He took himself off with a certain alacrity,giving an impatient cut with his stick at a sparrow in the middle of Worship Street,nor did I see him again this day,although,after hurriedly getting my letters (for the starting hour of the boat had now drawn near),I followed where he had gone down Court Street,and his cosmopolitan figure would have been easy to descry at any distance along that scantily peopled pavement.He had evidently found the bank and was getting his money.
David of the yellow heir and his limpid-looking bride were on the horrible little excursion boat,watching for me and keeping with some difficulty a chair next themselves that I might not have to stand up all the way;and,as I came aboard,the bride called out to me her relief,she had made sure that I would be late.
"David said you wouldn't,"she announced in her clear up-country accent across the parasols and heads of huddled tourists,"but I told him a gentleman that's late to three meals aivry day like as not would forget boats can't be kept hot in the kitchen for you."I took my place in the chair beside her as hastily as possible,for there is nothing that I so much dislike as being made conspicuous for any reason whatever;and my thanks to her were,I fear,less gracious in their manner than should have been the case.Nor did she find me,I must suppose,as companionable during this excursion--during the first part of it,at any rate--as a limpid-looking bride,who has kept at some pains a seat beside her for a single gentleman,has the right to expect;the brief hours of this morning had fed my preoccupation too richly,and Imust often have fallen silent.
