The Honorable Peter Stirling and What People Thought of Him Read online

  CHAPTER VI.

  A MONOLOGUE AND A DIALOGUE.

  It was at the end of this day's yachting that Peter was having his"unsocial walk." Early on the morrow he would be taking the train forhis native town, and the thought of this, in connection with otherthoughts, drew stern lines on his face. His conclusions were somethingto this effect:

  "I suspected before coming that Watts and Miss Pierce loved each other.I was evidently wrong, for if they did they could not endure seeing solittle of each other. How could he know her and not love her? But it'svery fortunate for me, for I should stand no chance against him, evensupposing I should try to win the girl he loved. She can't care for me!As Watts says, 'I'm an old stupid naturally, and doubly so with girls.'Still, I can't go to-morrow without telling her. I shan't see her againtill next winter. I can't wait till then. Some one else--I can't wait."

  Then he strode up and down half a dozen times repeating the last threewords over and over again. His thoughts took a new turn.

  "It's simply folly, and you have no right to give in to it. You haveyour own way to make. You have no right to ask mother for more than thefifteen hundred she says you are to have as an allowance, for you knowthat if she gave you more, it would be only by scrimping herself. Whatis fifteen hundred a year to such a girl? Why, her father would think Iwas joking!"

  Then Peter looked out on the leaden waters and wished it was notcowardly to end the conflict by letting them close over him. The darkcolor made him think, however, of a pair of slate-colored eyes, soinstead of jumping in, he repeated "I can't wait" a few times, andwalked with redoubled energy. Having stimulated himself thereby, he wenton thinking.

  "She has been so kind to me that--no--she can't care for me. But ifshe--if by chance--if--supposing she does! Why, the money is nothing. Wecan wait."

  Peter repeated this last remark several times, clearly showing that hemade a great distinction between "I can wait" and "We can wait."Probably the same nice distinction has been made before, and lovers havegood authority for the distinction, for many an editor's public "Wethink" is the exact opposite of his private "I think." Then Petercontinued:

  "Of course I shall have difficulty with Mr. Pierce. He's a worldly man.That's nothing, though, if she cares for me. If she cares for me?"

  Peter repeated this last sentence a number of times and seemed to enjoythe prospect it conjured up. He saw Peter Stirling taking a fondfarewell of a certain lady. He saw him entering the arena and strugglingwith the wild beasts, and of course conquering them. He saw the day whenhis successes would enable him to set up his own fireside. He saw thatfireside made perfect by a pair of slate-colored eyes, which breakfastopposite him, follow him as he starts for his work, and greet him on hisreturn. A pair of eyes to love when present, and think of when absent.Heigho! How many firesides and homes have been built out of just suchmaterials!

  From all this the fact can be gathered that Peter was really, despitehis calm, sober nature, no more sensible in love matters than are otherboys verging on twenty-one. He could not see that success in this lovewould be his greatest misfortune. That he could not but be distractedfrom his work. That he would almost certainly marry before he could wellafford it, and thus overweight himself in his battle for success. Heforgot prudence and common-sense, and that being what a lover usuallydoes, he can hardly be blamed for it.

  Bump!

  Down came the air-castle. Home, fireside, and the slate-colored eyesdissolved into a wooden wharf. The dream was over.

  "Bear a hand here with these lunch-baskets, chum," called Watts. "Makeyourself useful as well as ornamental."

  And so Peter's solitary tramp ceased, and he was helping lunch-basketsand ladies to the wharf.

  But the tramp had brought results which were quickly to manifestthemselves. As the party paired off for the walk to the Shrubberies,both Watts and Peter joined Miss Pierce, which was not at all to Peter'sliking.

  "Go on with the rest, Watts," said Peter quietly.

  Miss Pierce and Watts both stopped short in surprise.

  "Eh?" said the latter.

  "You join the rest of the party on ahead," said Peter.

  "I don't understand," said Watts, who could hardly have been moresurprised if Peter had told him to drown himself.

  "I want to say something to Miss Pierce," explained Peter.

  Watts caught his breath. If Peter had not requested his absence andgiven his reason for wishing it, in Miss Pierce's hearing, Watts wouldhave formed an instant conclusion as to what it meant, not far from thetruth. But that a man should deliberately order another away, in thegirl's hearing, so that he might propose to her, was too great anabsurdity for Watts to entertain for more than a second. He laughed, andsaid, "Go on yourself, if you don't like the company."

  "No," said Peter. "I want you to go on." Peter spoke quietly, but therewas an inflexion in his singularly clear voice, which had more commandin it than a much louder tone in others. Watts had learned to recognizeit, and from past experience knew that Peter was not to be moved when heused it. But here the case was different. Hitherto he had been trying tomake Peter do something. Now the boot was on the other leg, and Wattssaw therein a chance for some fun. He therefore continued to standstill, as they had all done since Peter had exploded his first speech,and began to whistle. Both men, with that selfishness common to the sex,failed entirely to consider whether Miss Pierce was enjoying theincident.

  "I think," remarked Miss Pierce, "that I will leave you two to settleit, and run on with the rest."

  "Don't," spoke Peter quickly. "I have something to say to you."

  Watts stopped his whistling. "What the deuce is the old boy up to?" hethought to himself. Miss Pierce hesitated. She wanted to go, butsomething in Peter's voice made it very difficult. "I had no idea hecould speak so decidedly. He's not so tractable as I thought. I thinkWatts ought to do what he asks. Though I don't see why Mr. Stirlingwants to send him away," she said to herself.

  "Watts," said Peter, "this is the last chance I shall really have tothank Miss Pierce, for I leave before breakfast to-morrow."

  There was nothing appealing in the way it was said. It seemed a merestatement of a fact. Yet something in the voice gave it the character ofa command.

  "'Nough said, chum," said Watts, feeling a little cheap at his smallnessin having tried to rob Peter of his farewell. The next moment he wasrapidly overtaking the advance-party.

  By all conventions there should have been an embarrassing pause afterthis extraordinary colloquy, but there was not. When Peter decided to doa thing, he never faltered in the doing. If making love or declaring ithad been a matter of directness and plain-speaking, Peter would havebeen a successful lover. But few girls are won by lovers who carrybusiness methods and habits of speech into their courtship.

  "Miss Pierce," said Peter, "I could not go without thanking you for yourkindness to me. I shall never forget this week."

  "I am so glad you have enjoyed it," almost sang Miss Pierce, in herpleasure at this reward for her week of self-sacrifice.

  "And I couldn't go," said Peter, his clear voice suddenly husking,"without telling you how I love you."

  "Love me!" exclaimed Miss Pierce, and she brought the walk again to ahalt, in her surprise.

  "Yes," replied Peter simply, but the monosyllable meant more than thestrongest protestations, as he said it.

  "Oh," almost cried his companion, "I am so sorry."

  "Don't say that," said Peter; "I don't want it to be a sorrow to you."

  "But it's so sudden," gasped Miss Pierce.

  "I suppose it is," said Peter, "but I love you and can't help tellingit. Why shouldn't one tell one's love as soon as one feels it? It's thefinest thing a man can tell a woman."

  "Oh, please don't," begged Miss Pierce, her eyes full of tears insympathy for him. "You make it so hard for me to say that--that youmustn't"

  "I really didn't think you could care for me--as I cared for you,"replied Peter, rather more to the voice than to the words of the
lastspeech. "Girls have never liked me."

  Miss Pierce began to sob. "It's all a mistake. A dreadful mistake," shecried, "and it is my fault."

  "Don't say that," said Peter, "It's nothing but my blundering."

  They walked on in silence to the Shrubberies, but as they came near tothe glare of the lighted doorway, Peter halted a moment.

  "Do you think," he asked, "that it could ever be different?"

  "No," replied Miss Pierce.

  "Because, unless there is--is some one else," continued Peter, "I shallnot----"

  "There is," interrupted Miss Pierce, the determination in Peter's voicefrightening her info disclosing her secret.

  Peter said to himself, "It is Watts after all." He was tempted to say italoud, and most men in the sting of the moment would have done so. Buthe thought it would not be the speech of a gentleman. Instead he said,"Thank you." Then he braced himself, and added: "Please don't let mylove cause you any sorrow. It has been nothing but a joy to me.Good-night and good-bye."

  He did not even offer to shake hands in parting. They went into thehallway together, and leaving the rest of the party, who were alreadyraiding the larder for an impromptu supper, to their own devices, theypassed upstairs, Miss Pierce to bathe her eyes and Peter to pack hisbelongings.

  "Where are Helen and Stirling?" inquired Mr. Pierce when the time cameto serve out the Welsh rarebit he was tending.

  "They'll be along presently," said Watts. "Helen forgot something, andthey went back after it."

  "They will be properly punished by the leathery condition of therarebit, if they don't hurry. And as we are all agreed that Stirling issomewhat lacking in romance, he will not get a corresponding pleasurefrom the longer stroll to reward him for that. There, ladies andgentlemen, that is a rarebit that will melt in your mouth, and make theabsent ones regret their foolishness. As the gourmand says in'Richelieu,' 'What's diplomacy compared to a delicious pate?'"