CHAPTER XV
"GREAT LUCK!"
"Father Davy, are you sure, _sure_?" begged his daughter.
"Sure that I want you to go, daughter? Very sure. What sort of fathershould I be if I were willing to deny you this great pleasure merely toinsure my own comfort? And I shall be comfortable. Why should I not be,with the good Mrs. Perkins to look after me, and our fine friend Mr.Jefferson to bear me company in the evenings, as often as he can? Andwith James Stuart, who is like a son--and with your letters arrivingwith every foreign mail? Dismiss these fears, my dear, and take yourhappy chance to see something of the Old World. Many a delightfulevening will we have together next winter, you and I, over thephotographs you will bring back, while you discourse to me of youradventures."
Thus Mr. David Warne in his most reassuring manner, while his daughterstudied his delicate, pallid face, her heart smiting her for beingwilling to leave him to the loneliness she knew, in spite of all hisprotests, he would suffer in her absence. And yet opportunities likethis one did not occur everyday, might not come again in her lifetime.And everybody was conspiring to make it possible for her.
"It goes without saying," Mr. Jefferson had told her at once, "that allother engagements should be cancelled in the face of such an invitationas this. We will all look after your father for you. And as far as yourwork with me is concerned, don't give it another thought. I shall makerather slower progress without you, of course, but when you return wewill take great strides and complete it well within the limit I haveset. So go by all means, and good luck!"
As for James McKenzie Stuart, his words of persuasion seemed to betempered by various other emotions than those of unselfish desire forGeorgiana's pleasure.
"Of course it's great, and there's no doubt that you must go," he said.He was sitting upon the rear porch of the manse, looking off towardGeorgiana's garden, on the second evening after her return from thehurried drive to the Croftons'. "I'll do all I can for your father, ofcourse. But don't ask me to console the book-writer."
Georgiana laughed merrily. "He'll not need any consolation, Jimps. Noryou either. Jeannette told me to tell you that she'd write to you once afortnight--if you'd answer."
"No! She didn't say that?"
"Yes, she did, and meant it. I'll write, too, of course. You'll bedeluged with letters and picture post-cards. You ought to be satisfiedwith so much attention."
"Letters are all right--we won't say anything about the post-cards--andI hope you'll both keep your promises. But when I think of all thesesummer evenings without you----"
He heaved a gusty sigh which Georgiana had no reason to doubt wasgenuine. How much heavier would be his spirits, if he were told thatMiles Channing was to be of the party, she had full consciousness. Shewas aware of the futility of attempting to keep this unwelcome news fromhim longer than the day of her departure, but she had not thus farventured to mention it.
"I shall miss these evenings myself," she said soberly. "After all,Jimps, I expect there'll be nobody gladder to get back home than I. Ishall see this old garden in my dreams." Then quickly, as anotherdeep-drawn breath warned her that sentimental ground was dangerous, shecried: "Oh, but, Jimps! I haven't told you of the last and nicest thingthat wonderful girl has done for me. She insisted on my bringing homethe dearest little traveling suit of some kind of lovely summer sergethat doesn't spot and doesn't muss and is altogether adorable. Sheinsists it's not becoming to her, and it really isn't; but I almost knowshe planned not to have it becoming so she could give it away to me. Anda perfect beauty of a little hat--and a big, loose coat, to wear on thesteamer, that looks absolutely new, but she vows it isn't, and thatshe's tired of it. Was ever anybody so lucky as I?"
"It certainly does take clothes to stir up a girl," was Stuart's cynicalcomment. "Talk of separation and they pretend to be as sad over it asyou are; but let 'em think about the clothes they're going to wear andtheir spirits leap up like soda water."
"Poor old Jimps! Doesn't he know the sustaining qualities of prettyclothes? Too bad! But really it's lucky I have something to sustain me,it's such a pull to make myself go. I didn't suppose I'd ever leaveFather Davy this way while he is so feeble, but he's the most urgent ofall to send me off, and I know I really can bring him back wonderfulpleasure."
Thus the talks ran during the few days which elapsed before Georgiana'sdeparture. Every spare hour was full with preparation, from the packingof the trim little steamer trunk which arrived by express, a gift fromUncle Thomas, to the careful mending and putting in perfect order ofevery article Father Davy would be likely to wear during the wholeperiod of his daughter's absence. Georgiana's thoughts as she workedwere a curious mixture of happy anticipation and actual dread.
"If only I could go as Jeannette is going," she said to herself,"without a care in the world except to plan how she will fill thesummer, and to make sure her maid puts in plenty of silk stockings tolast till she can buy some more in Paris. When I went to college it waswith the fear that I ought not to accept father's sacrifice, even thoughAunt Harriet was with him then, and he was far, far stronger than he isnow. I've never done anything in my life without a guilty feeling that Iought not to be doing it. Why can't I do now as they all bid me--drop mycares and take my fun, like any other girl? I will--I must. It's onlyfair!"
The excitement of anticipation grew upon her as the busy hours slippedaway; the regrets and anxieties diminished. With every day came freshand delightfully interesting contributions to her outfitting fromJeannette or Aunt Olivia--a handsome little handbag of silk and silverto match the traveling suit; a snug toilet case of soft blue leather,holding everything mortal woman could want on train or ship; a greatwoolly steamer rug to use on shipboard. Georgiana could only catch herbreath at such kindness, and dash off hasty notes of spirited thanks,and protests against any more of the same sort. But in spite of herpride it was impossible to resist accepting these and other gifts, theyseemed prompted by such genuine affection.
The day came; the trunk was closed and strapped. Mr. Jefferson had donethe strapping, coming upon the prospective traveler in the upper hall,where she was trying in vain to bring leather thong and buckle into theproper relations.
"Haven't I yet proved my right to the title of man in the house?" heinquired, as he did the trick with the masculine ease which is ever asource of envy to those whose hands are weaker.
"Indeed you have; but I shall never get over feeling that I have to doeverything for myself."
"It will be some one's privilege to teach you better some time," was hisrejoinder. "Meanwhile, those of us who are near at hand are only toohappy to act as deputies."
Between her "three men," as Jeannette had called them, Georgiana wasallowed to do little for herself at the last. She was to meet hercousins as the train went through their city, but Stuart had invitedhimself to accompany her to that point, thus giving himself a chance, ashe said, to clinch that bargain with Jeannette concerning the promisedletters and post-cards.
Therefore Georgiana's farewells were not to be all said at once, forwhich she was thankful. It was quite enough to take leave of FatherDavy, who was looking, it seemed to his daughter's eyes, on that sultryJune morning, a shade paler and weaker than usual.
"It's the sudden summer heat, dear," he said with the brightest ofsmiles, as with her arms about him she questioned him; "nothing more.There, there, my little girl; don't let your fancy get the better ofyou. I'm very well indeed, and shall soon be used to the summer weather.Go--and God be with you, dearest!"
"It doesn't matter about His going with me if He'll only stay with you,"murmured Georgiana, vainly struggling with herself, that she might takea bright and tearless farewell of this dear being.
"He will go with you and He will stay with me," said Mr. Warnecheerfully, "so be at rest. Here--I've written you a steamer letter.Read it when the good ship sails, and think of me as rejoicing in yourhappiness."
It was over at last, and she was off. At the gate she had turned to Mr.Jefferson, who was
carrying her handbag to the village stage, from whichStuart had leaped to run up to the porch and say a word of cheer to Mr.Warne, sitting in a big chair.
"I can't tell you what a comfort it is, Mr. Jefferson," she said as shegave him her hand, "to know that you are here. I haven't worked with youfor six weeks not to understand that it is no mere author of ascientific treatise who is staying with my father."
"No?" He smiled into her lifted eyes, and his look was that of a friendwhom one may trust. "Well, Miss Georgiana, if it is of any support toyou to be told that whatever knowledge or skill I may have is all at theservice of your father, then I am glad to assure you of that fact. Iwill do my best for him always. Good-bye, and may it be a happy timefrom first to last."
His hand held hers close as he said these words, and continued to holdit for a moment longer while he gave her a long and intent look. Shefelt a strange pang; it was almost as if she could think he was going tomiss her. Yet she knew better. If he missed her it would be only becausehe had become accustomed to having her about. No sign of any moreuncommon interest had he ever shown.
Then Stuart, farther down the path, was calling, "Come, George, we'reall but late now"; and she was in the old stage and it was lumbering offdown the road, while neighbours waved from their windows, and Georgianastrained her eyes to get a last look at the figure on the porch.
On the train she and Stuart somehow found little to say to each other inthe ride of an hour and a half to the city station where the rest of theparty came aboard. Stuart did not catch sight of Miles Channing untilthe last minute of the train's stop. He had filled the earlier period ofthe ten-minute detention in the station with a hurried talk withJeannette, during which Georgiana noted that the two seemed thoroughlyabsorbed in each other. It was small wonder, for Jeannette had neverbeen more radiantly lovely than in the distinguished plainness of hertraveling costume. She seemed very happy as she presumably bargainedwith Stuart for letters, and Jimps himself had never looked moreinterested in any proposition than in that one.
Suddenly, however, the wait was over. Georgiana turned from greetingChanning, who had just come aboard followed by a porter with hisluggage, when she heard Stuart's voice in her ear:
"George, is _he_ going?"
"I believe he is," she admitted, trying not to let her colour risebeneath the accusing expression in his eyes.
"And you didn't mention it?"
"Didn't I? He's Jeannette's and Rosalie's friend, not mine."
"No; he's something more than a friend to you--or means to be. I mighthave known he'd work this scheme. It's good-bye to you in earnest then."
"Jimps! Please don't. It's nothing of the sort. I----"
The train began to move. But instead of a hasty leave-taking and a leapfrom the steps, James Stuart stood still. "I believe I'll go on foranother hour," he said coolly, with a glance at his watch. "I can getoff at the next stop. Meanwhile--Miss Jeannette, the observationplatform seems to be nearly empty. Would you care to sit out there awhile, since I've no chair in here now and the car is full?"
Georgiana, sitting facing Miles Channing--she wondered who wasresponsible for the fact that his chair proved to be next hers--saw hiseyes, as he glanced toward the rear of the car, follow Stuart andJeannette.
"He's a mighty nice fellow, isn't he?" he commented pleasantly. "Too badhe isn't coming along. Seems tremendously interested in Jeannette, andit's quite evident that she likes him--as much as is good for him. Thesepartings--well, I'm sorry for him. But he means to make the most of thislast hour. It would be unkind of us to follow them out there, wouldn'tit?--though I was about to propose going out when he stole a march onme."
"It would be very unkind," agreed Georgiana gayly. "Yes, I wish he couldhave the whole journey; he deserves a rest and change. He's one of thefinest men I know."
Now that Channing was beside her, with his handsome face and faultlesslydressed figure easily the most attractive man in the car, she could notbegrudge Jeannette this final hour with Stuart, though her pridesmarted a little under the change in his manner toward herself. She hadread in her cousin's face, as Jeannette's eyes met Stuart's when shefirst caught sight of him, that she was much more than commonly glad tosee him, and the observer had noted with what an air of joyouscomradeship the two had hurried, laughing, down the aisle to the reardoor after Stuart's proposal.
But the hour was soon over. It was not until the train stopped thatJeannette and Stuart returned to the others inside the car, and then thefarewells were necessarily hurried. With a smiling face Stuart shookhands with them all, leaving his best friend to the last, according tothe unwritten law of farewells.
When he came to her he looked very nearly straight into her eyes--notquite--it might have been her lower eyelashes upon which he brought hisglance to bear.
"Great luck, Georgiana," he said distinctly, "and all kinds of a goodtime."
"Good-bye, Jimps, and thank you very, very much for coming," sheresponded.
It was hardly to be believed that James Stuart would not lower his voiceand murmur some last word for her ear alone, for this had long been hiscustom. Instead, he gave her a brilliant smile--and turned again toJeannette.
"Good-bye, once more," he said--and added something under his breath, inresponse to which Jeannette nodded, smiling, and went with him to thefront end of the car, where she alone was the last to wave farewell ashe looked back from the platform.
Georgiana caught a final glimpse of him as he ran along it with baredhead, and the whole party waved hands and called parting salutes, inwhich she joined. Then Jeannette came back, and Georgiana lookedsearchingly at her, her own heart experiencing an uncomfortable sort ofdepression as she saw the exquisite flush on her cousin's cheek and thelight in her eyes.
"'Dog in the manger!'" Georgiana sternly reproached herself in her ownthoughts. "Isn't it enough for you to have one man looking devotion atyou, but you must claim everybody in sight?" And she made a determinedand partially successful effort not to mind that things had turned outas they had. Only--she and James Stuart had been friends a very longtime, and she was sorry to have the parting from him tinged by a cloudof misunderstanding. It would have been much better, she admitted toherself now, to have told him frankly in the beginning that MilesChanning was to be of the party.