An Open-Eyed Conspiracy; An Idyl of SaratogaHowells, William Dean
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An Open-Eyed Conspiracy; An Idyl of Saratoga
Howells, William Dean
New York (State) -- Fiction; Saratoga (N.Y.) -- Fiction; Saratoga Springs (N.Y.) -- Fiction
We all gave way in a gale of laughter, and sat down on the verandah and
had our joke out in full recognition of the fact. When Kendricks rose to
go at last, I said, “We won’t say anything about this little incident to
Mrs. March, hey?” And then they laughed again as if it were the finest
wit in the world, and Miss Gage bade me a joyful good-night at the head
of the stairs as she went off to her room and I to mine.
I found Mrs. March waiting up with a book; and as soon as I shut myself
in with her she said, awfully, “What _were_ you laughing so about?”
“Laughing? Did you hear me laughing?”
“The whole house heard you, I’m afraid. You certainly ought to have
known better, Basil. It was very inconsiderate of you.” And as I saw
she was going on with more of that sort of thing, to divert her thoughts
from my crime I told her the whole story. It had quite the effect I
intended up to a certain point. She even smiled a little, as much as a
woman could be expected to smile who was not originally in the joke.
“And they had got to comparing weird experiences?” she asked.
“Yes; the staleness of the thing almost made me sick. Do you remember
when we first compared our weird experiences? But I suppose they will go
on doing it to the end of time, and it will have as great a charm for the
last man and woman as it had for Adam and Eve when they compared _their_
weird experiences.”
“And was that what you were laughing at?”
“We were laughing at the wonderful case of telepathy I put up on them.”
Mrs. March faced her open book down on the table before her, and looked
at me with profound solemnity. “Well, then, I can tell you, my dear, it
is no laughing matter. If they have got to the weird it is very serious;
and her talking to him about her family, and his wanting to know about
her father, that’s serious too—far more serious than either of them can
understand. I don’t like it, Basil; we have got a terrible affair on our
hands.”
“Terrible?”
“Yes, terrible. As long as he was interested in her simply from a
literary point of view, though I didn’t like that either, I could put up
with it; but now that he’s got to telling her about himself, and
exchanging weird experiences with her, it’s another thing altogether.
Oh, I never wanted Kendricks brought into the affair at all.”
“Come now, Isabel! Stick to the facts, please.”
“No matter! It was you that discovered the girl, and then something had
to be done. I was perfectly shocked when you told me that Mr. Kendricks
was in town, because I saw at once that he would have to be got in for
it; and now we have to think what we shall do.”
“Couldn’t we think better in the morning?”
“No; we must think at once. I shall not sleep to-night anyhow. My peace
is gone. I shall have to watch them every instant.”
“Beginning at this instant. Why not wait till you can see them?”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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