Alice came down to lunch in a dress which reconciled the seaside and thedrawing-room in an effect entirely satisfactory to her mother, and gaveher hand to both the gentlemen without the affectation of surprise atseeing either.
"I saw Mr. Munt coning up from the boat," she said in answer toMavering's demand for some sort of astonishment from her. "I wasn'tcertain that it was you."
Mrs. Pasmer, whose pretences had been all given away by this simpleconfession, did not resent it, she was so much pleased with herdaughter's evident excitement at the young man's having come. Withoutbeing conscious of it, perhaps, Alice prettily assumed the part ofhostess from the moment of their meeting, and did the honours of thehotel with a tacit implication of knowing that he had come to see herthere. They had only met twice, but now, the third time, meeting aftera little separation, their manner toward each other was as if theiracquaintance had been making progress in the interval. She took himabout quite as if he had joined their family party, and introduced himto Miss Anderson and to all her particular friends, for each of whom,within five minutes after his presentation, he contrived to do somewinning service. She introduced him to her father, whom he treated withdeep respect and said "Sir" to. She showed him the bowling alley, andbegan to play tennis with him.
Her mother, sitting with John Munt on the piazza, followed these politeattentions to Mavering with humorous satisfaction, which was qualifiedas they went on.
"Alice," she said to her, at a chance which offered itself during theevening, and then she hesitated for the right word.
"Well; mamma?" said the girl impatiently, stopping on her way to walkup and down the piazza with Mavering; she had run in to get a wrap and aTam-o'-Shanter cap.
"Don't--overdo--the honours."
"What do you mean, mamma?" asked the girl; dropping her arms before her,and letting the shawl trail on the floor.
"Don't you think he was very kind to us on Class Day?"
Her mother laughed. "But every one mayn't know it's gratitude."
Alice went out, but she came back in a little while, and went up to herroom without speaking to any one.
The fits of elation and depression with which this first day passedfor her succeeded one another during Mavering's stay. He did not needAlice's chaperonage long. By the next morning he seemed to know and tolike everybody in the hotel, where he enjoyed a general favour whichat that moment had no exceptions. In the afternoon he began to organiseexcursions and amusements with the help of Miss Anderson.
The plans all referred to Alice, who accepted and approved with anauthority which every one tacitly admitted, just as every one recognisedthat Mavering had come to Campobello because she was there. Such a phaseis perhaps the prettiest in the history of a love affair. All is yet insolution; nothing has been precipitated in word or fact. The parties toit even reserve a final construction of what they themselves say or do;they will not own to their hearts that they mean exactly this or that.It is this phase which in its perfect freedom is the most Americanof all; under other conditions it is an instant, perceptible orimperceptible; under ours it is a distinct stage, unhurried by anyoutside influences.
The nearest approach to a definition of the situation was in a walkbetween Mavering and Mrs. Pasmer, and this talk, too, light and brief,might have had no such intention as her fancy assigned his part of it.
She recurred to something that had been said on Class Day about histaking up the law immediately, or going abroad first for a year.
"Oh, I've abandoned Europe altogether for the present," he saidlaughing. "And I don't know but I may go back on the law too."
"Indeed! Then you are going to be an artist?"
"Oh no; not so bad as that. It isn't settled yet, and I'm off hereto think it over a while before the law school opens in September. Myfather wants me to go into his business and turn my powers to account indesigning wall-papers."
"Oh, how very interesting!" At the same time Mrs. Pasmer ran over thewhole field of her acquaintance without finding another wall-papermaker in it. But she remembered what Mrs. Saintsbury had said: it wasmanufacturing. This reminded her to ask if he had seen the Saintsburyslately, and he said, No; he believed they were still in Cambridge,though.
"And we shall actually see a young man," she said finally, "in the actof deciding his own destiny!"
He laughed for pleasure in her persiflage. "Yes; only don't give meaway. Nobody else knows it."
"Oh no, indeed. Too much flattered, Mr. Mavering. Shall you let meknow when you've decided? I shall be dying to know, and I shall be toohigh-minded to ask."
It was not then too late to adapt 'Pinafore' to any exigency of life,and Mavering said, "You will learn from the expression of my eyes."