|
Main
- books.jibble.org
My Books
- IRC Hacks
Misc. Articles
- Meaning of Jibble
- M4 Su Doku
- Computer Scrapbooking
- Setting up Java
- Bootable Java
- Cookies in Java
- Dynamic Graphs
- Social Shakespeare
External Links
- Paul Mutton
- Jibble Photo Gallery
- Jibble Forums
- Google Landmarks
- Jibble Shop
- Free Books
- Intershot Ltd
|
books.jibble.org
Previous Page
| Next Page
Page 44
Pensive beauty would nothing of wine; two thick plaits of her blond hair
hang almost to the floor; she is a lineal descendant of the Lorelei. So
the waiter brings the brew; effervescent, icy, greenish golden. The
orchestra on the stage is playing "Oh, Rachel." The youngsters have
exchanged a good bit of information. She calls him, "Walter" and he
calls her "Miss Rosa."
Goodall's tongue is loosened and he has told her everything about
himself, about his home in Tennessee, the old pillared mansion under the
oaks, the stables, the hunting; the friends he has; down to the
chickens, and the box bushes bordering the walks. About his coming South
for the climate, hoping to escape the hereditary foe of his family. All
about his three months on a ranch; the deer hunts, the rattlers, and the
rollicking in the cow camps. Then of his advent to Santone, where he had
indirectly learned, from a great specialist that his life's calendar
probably contains but two more leaves. And then of this death-white,
choking night which has come and strangled his fortitude and sent him
out to seek a port amid its depressing billows.
"My weekly letter from home failed to come," he told her, "and I was
pretty blue. I knew I had to go before long and I was tired of waiting.
I went out and bought morphine at every drug store where they would sell
me a few tablets. I got thirty-six quarter grains, and was going back to
my room and take them, but I met a queer fellow on a bridge, who had a
new idea."
Goodall fillips a little pasteboard box upon the table. "I put 'em all
together in there."
Miss Rosa, being a woman, must raise the lid, and gave a slight shiver
at the innocent looking triturates. "Horrid things! but those little,
white bits--they could never kill one!"
Indeed they could. Walter knew better. Nine grains of morphia! Why, half
the amount might.
Miss Rosa demands to know about Mr. Hurd, of Toledo, and is told. She
laughs like a delighted child. "What a funny fellow! But tell me more
about your home and your sisters, Walter. I know enough about Texas and
tarantulas and cowboys."
The theme is dear, just now, to his mood, and he lays before her the
simple details of a true home; the little ties and endearments that so
fill the exile's heart. Of his sisters, one, Alice, furnishes him a
theme he loves to dwell upon.
"She is like you, Miss Rosa," he says. "Maybe not quite so pretty,
but, just as nice, and good, and----"
"There! Walter," says Miss Rosa sharply, "now talk about something
else."
But a shadow falls upon the wall outside, preceding a big, softly
treading man, finely dressed, who pauses a second before the curtains
and then passes on. Presently comes the waiter with a message: "Mr.
Rolfe says--"
"Tell Rolfe I'm engaged."
"I don't know why it is," says Goodall, of Memphis, "but I don't feel as
bad as I did. An hour ago I wanted to die, but since I've met you, Miss
Rosa, I'd like so much to live."
The young woman whirls around the table, lays an arm behind his neck and
kisses him on the cheek.
"You must, dear boy," she says. "I know what was the matter. It was the
miserable foggy weather that has lowered your spirit and mine too--a
little. But look, now."
With a little spring she has drawn back the curtains. A window is in the
wall opposite, and lo! the mist is cleared away. The indulgent moon is
out again, revoyaging the plumbless sky. Roof and parapet and spire are
softly pearl enamelled. Twice, thrice the retrieved river flashes back,
between the houses, the light of the firmament. A tonic day will dawn,
sweet and prosperous.
"Talk of death when the world is so beautiful!" says Miss Rosa, laying
her hand on his shoulder. "Do something to please me, Walter. Go home to
your rest and say: 'I mean to get better,' and do it."
Previous Page
| Next Page
|
|