The Pit [72]
it a bargain. Some day--before very long, mind you--you are going to kiss me--that way, understand, of your own accord, when I'm not thinking of it; and I'll get that conservatory in for you. I'll manage it somehow. I'll start those fellows at it to- morrow--twenty of 'em if it's necessary. How about it? Is it a bargain? Some day before long. What do you say?"
Laura hesitated, singularly embarrassed, unable to find the right words.
"Is it a bargain?" persisted Jadwin.
"Oh, if you put it that way," she murmured, "I suppose so--yes."
"You won't forget, because I shan't speak about it again. Promise you won't forget."
"No, I won't forget. Why not call her the 'Thetis'?"
"I was going to suggest the 'Dart,' or the 'Swallow,' or the 'Arrow.' Something like that--to give a notion of speed."
"No. I like the 'Thetis' best."
"That settles it then. She's your steam yacht, Laura."
Later on, when Jadwin was preparing to depart, they stood for a moment in the hallway, while he drew on his gloves and took a fresh cigar from his case.
"I'll call for you here at about ten," he said. "Will that do?"
He spoke of the following morning. He had planned to take Page, Mrs. Wessels, and Laura on a day's excursion to Geneva Lake to see how work was progressing on the country house. Jadwin had set his mind upon passing the summer months after the marriage at the lake, and as the early date of the ceremony made it impossible to erect a new building, he had bought, and was now causing to be remodelled, an old but very well constructed house just outside of the town and once occupied by a local magistrate. The grounds were ample, filled with shade and fruit trees, and fronted upon the lake. Laura had never seen her future country home. But for the past month Jadwin had had a small army of workmen and mechanics busy about the place, and had managed to galvanise the contractors with some of his own energy and persistence. There was every probability that the house and grounds would be finished in time.
"Very well," said Laura," in answer to his question, "at ten we'll be ready. Good-night." She held out her hand. But Jadwin put it quickly aside, and took her swiftly and strongly into his arms, and turning her face to his, kissed her cheek again and again.
Laura submitted, protesting:
"Curtis! Such foolishness. Oh, dear; can't you love me without crumpling me so? Curtis! Please. You are so rough with me, dear."
She pulled away from him, and looked up into his face, surprised to find it suddenly flushed; his eyes were flashing.
"My God," he murmured, with a quick intake of breath, "my God, how I love you, my girl! Just the touch of your hand, the smell of your hair. Oh, sweetheart. It is wonderful! Wonderful!" Then abruptly he was master of himself again.
"Good-night," he said. "Good-night. God bless you," and with the words was gone.
They were married on the last day of June of that summer at eleven o'clock in the morning in the church opposite Laura's house--the Episcopalian church of which she was a member. The wedding was very quiet. Only the Cresslers, Miss Gretry, Page, and Aunt Wess' were present. Immediately afterward the couple were to take the train for Geneva Lake--Jadwin having chartered a car for the occasion.
But the weather on the wedding day was abominable. A warm drizzle, which had set in early in the morning, developed by eleven o'clock into a steady downpour, accompanied by sullen grumblings of very distant thunder.
About an hour before the appointed time Laura insisted that her aunt and sister should leave her. She would allow only Mrs. Cressler to help her. The time passed. The rain continued to fall. At last it wanted but fifteen minutes to eleven.
Page and Aunt Wess', who presented themselves at the church in advance of the others, found the interior cool, dark, and damp. They sat down in a front pew, talking in whispers, looking about them. Druggeting shrouded the reader's stand, the baptismal font, and bishop's chair. Every footfall
Laura hesitated, singularly embarrassed, unable to find the right words.
"Is it a bargain?" persisted Jadwin.
"Oh, if you put it that way," she murmured, "I suppose so--yes."
"You won't forget, because I shan't speak about it again. Promise you won't forget."
"No, I won't forget. Why not call her the 'Thetis'?"
"I was going to suggest the 'Dart,' or the 'Swallow,' or the 'Arrow.' Something like that--to give a notion of speed."
"No. I like the 'Thetis' best."
"That settles it then. She's your steam yacht, Laura."
Later on, when Jadwin was preparing to depart, they stood for a moment in the hallway, while he drew on his gloves and took a fresh cigar from his case.
"I'll call for you here at about ten," he said. "Will that do?"
He spoke of the following morning. He had planned to take Page, Mrs. Wessels, and Laura on a day's excursion to Geneva Lake to see how work was progressing on the country house. Jadwin had set his mind upon passing the summer months after the marriage at the lake, and as the early date of the ceremony made it impossible to erect a new building, he had bought, and was now causing to be remodelled, an old but very well constructed house just outside of the town and once occupied by a local magistrate. The grounds were ample, filled with shade and fruit trees, and fronted upon the lake. Laura had never seen her future country home. But for the past month Jadwin had had a small army of workmen and mechanics busy about the place, and had managed to galvanise the contractors with some of his own energy and persistence. There was every probability that the house and grounds would be finished in time.
"Very well," said Laura," in answer to his question, "at ten we'll be ready. Good-night." She held out her hand. But Jadwin put it quickly aside, and took her swiftly and strongly into his arms, and turning her face to his, kissed her cheek again and again.
Laura submitted, protesting:
"Curtis! Such foolishness. Oh, dear; can't you love me without crumpling me so? Curtis! Please. You are so rough with me, dear."
She pulled away from him, and looked up into his face, surprised to find it suddenly flushed; his eyes were flashing.
"My God," he murmured, with a quick intake of breath, "my God, how I love you, my girl! Just the touch of your hand, the smell of your hair. Oh, sweetheart. It is wonderful! Wonderful!" Then abruptly he was master of himself again.
"Good-night," he said. "Good-night. God bless you," and with the words was gone.
They were married on the last day of June of that summer at eleven o'clock in the morning in the church opposite Laura's house--the Episcopalian church of which she was a member. The wedding was very quiet. Only the Cresslers, Miss Gretry, Page, and Aunt Wess' were present. Immediately afterward the couple were to take the train for Geneva Lake--Jadwin having chartered a car for the occasion.
But the weather on the wedding day was abominable. A warm drizzle, which had set in early in the morning, developed by eleven o'clock into a steady downpour, accompanied by sullen grumblings of very distant thunder.
About an hour before the appointed time Laura insisted that her aunt and sister should leave her. She would allow only Mrs. Cressler to help her. The time passed. The rain continued to fall. At last it wanted but fifteen minutes to eleven.
Page and Aunt Wess', who presented themselves at the church in advance of the others, found the interior cool, dark, and damp. They sat down in a front pew, talking in whispers, looking about them. Druggeting shrouded the reader's stand, the baptismal font, and bishop's chair. Every footfall