CHAPTER XXXIX.
"GIRLS ARE FUNNY THINGS."
"Girls are funny things" was Hugh John's favourite maxim; and heforthwith proceeded to prove that boys are too, by making a point ofseeing Cissy Carter several times a week during his entire vacation.Yet he was unhappy as often as he went to Oaklands, and only moreunhappy when he stayed away. On the whole, Cissy was much less frigidthan on that first memorable evening. But she never thawed entirely,nor could Hugh John discover the least trace of the hair-brainedmadcap of ancient days for whom his whole soul longed, in thecharmingly attired young lady whose talk and appearance were so muchbeyond her years. But he shaved three or four times a day with his newrazors, sneaking hot water on the sly in order to catch up.
The last time he could hope to see her before going back to school forhis final term, was on the evening of a day when Hugh John hadsuccessfully captained a team of schoolboys and visitors from thesurrounding country-houses against the best eleven which Edam couldproduce. Cissy Carter had looked on with Mr. Courtenay Carling by herside, while Captain (once General Napoleon) Smith made seventy-seven,and carried out his still virgin bat amid the cheers of thespectators, after having beaten the Edamites by four wickets, and withonly six minutes to spare in order to save the draw.
"Oh, well played!" cried Mr. Carling patronisingly, as Hugh John cameup, modestly swinging his bat as if he did as much every day of hislife; "I remember when I was at the 'Varsity----"
But Hugh John turned away without waiting to hear what happened to Mr.Carling at the 'Varsity which he had honoured with his presence. Itchanced, however, that at that moment the young gentleman with themoustache saw on the other side of the enclosure a lady of more maturecharms than those of his present companion, whose father also had agreat deal of influence--don't you know?--in the county. So in alittle while he excused himself and went over to talk with his newfriend in her carriage, afterwards driving home with her to "a quietfamily dinner."
Thus Cissy was left to return alone with Sammy, and she gathered upher sunshade and gloves with an air of calm and surprising dignity.Hugh John had meant to bid her an equally cool good night and strolloff with the worshipful Toady Lion--who that day had kept wickets"like a jolly little brick" (as his brother was good enough to say),besides making a useful six before being run out. But somehow, whenthe hero of the day went to say good-bye, he could not quite carry outhis programme, and found himself, against his will, offering in dueform to "see Miss Carter home."
Which shows that Hugh John, like his moustache, was growing up veryrapidly indeed, and learning how to adapt himself to circumstances. Hewondered what Ashwell Major would say if he knew. It would make himsick, Hugh John thought; but after all, what was a fellow to do?
For the first mile they talked freely about the match, and Cissycomplimented him on his scoring. Then there fell a silence andconstraint upon them. They were approaching the historic stile. HughJohn nerved himself for a daring venture.
"Do you remember what you once made me say here, Cissy?" he said. MissCarter turned upon him a perfectly well-bred stare of blankestignorance.
"No," she said, "I don't remember ever being here with you before."
"Oh, come, no humbug, Cissy--you could remember very well if youwanted to," said Hugh John roughly. As he would have described ithimself, "his monkey was getting up. Cissy had better look out."
He took from his ticket-pocket the piece of the crooked sixpence,which he had kept for more than three years in his schoolbox. "Youdon't remember that either, I suppose?" he said with grave irony.
Cissy looked at the broken coin calmly--she would have given a greatdeal if she had had a pincenez or a quizzing-glass to put up at thatpoint. But she did her best without either. Strangely, however, HughJohn was not even irritated.
"No," she said at last, "it looks like half of a sixpence whichsomebody has stepped upon. How quaint! Did you find it, or did someone give it to you?"
They were at the stile now, and Hugh John helped Cissy over. Thegrown-up swing of her skirt as she tripped down was masterly. Itlooked so natural. On the other side they both stopped, faced about,and set their elbows on the top almost as they had done three or fouryears ago when--but so much had happened since then.
With even more serenity Hugh John took a small purse out of hispocket. It was exceedingly dusty, as well it might be, for he hadpicked it out from underneath the specially constructed grandstand atthe cricket ground. He opened it quietly, in spite of the unladylikesnatch which Cissy made as soon as she recognised it, dropping heryoungladyish hauteur in an instant. Hugh John held the dainty pursehigh up out of her reach, and extracted from an inner compartment asmall piece of silver.
"IT LOOKS LIKE HALF OF A SIXPENCE WHICH SOMEBODY HASSTEPPED UPON. HOW QUAINT!"]
"Give it back to me this moment," cried Cissy, who had lost all herreserve, and suddenly grown whole years younger. "I didn't think anyone in the world could be so mean. But I might have known. Do youhear--give it back to me, Hugh John."
With the utmost deliberation he snapped the catch and handed her thepurse. The bit of silver he fitted carefully to the first piece he hadtaken from his ticket-pocket and held them up. They were the reunitedhalves of the same crooked sixpence.
Then he looked at Cissy with some of her own former calmness.
He even offered her the second fragment of silver, whereupon with asudden petulant gesture she struck his hand up, and her own half ofthe crooked sixpence flew into the air, flashed once in the rays ofthe setting sun, and fell in the middle of the path.
Hugh John stood in front of her a moment silent. Then he spoke.
"Do you know, Cissy, you are a regular little fraud!"
And with that he suddenly caught the girl in his arms, kissed heronce, twice, thrice--and then sprang over the stile, and down towardsthe river almost as swiftly as Prissy herself. The girl stood a momentspeechless with surprise and indignation. Then the tears leaped to hereyes, and she stamped her foot.
"Oh, I hate you, I despise you!" she cried, putting all her injuredpride and anger into the indignant ring of her voice. "I'll neverspeak to you again--not as long as I live, Hugh John Smith!"
And she turned away homeward, holding her head very high in the air.She seemed to be biting her lips to keep back the tears whichthreatened to overflow her cheeks. But just as she was leaving thestile, curiously enough she cast sharply over her shoulder and allround her the quick shy look of a startled fawn--and stooped to thepath. The next moment the bit of silver which had sparkled there wasgone, and Cissy Carter, with eyes still moist, but with the sweetestand most wistful smile playing upon her face, was tripping homeward toOaklands to the tune of "The Girl I left behind me," which she likedto whistle softly when she was sure no one was listening.
And at the end of every verse she gave a little skip, as if her heartwere light within her.
Girls are funny things.
Transcriber's note:
Inconsistent and archaic spelling, syntax, and punctuation retained.
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