An Open-Eyed Conspiracy; An Idyl of SaratogaHowells, William Dean
General
An Open-Eyed Conspiracy; An Idyl of Saratoga
Howells, William Dean
New York (State) -- Fiction; Saratoga (N.Y.) -- Fiction; Saratoga Springs (N.Y.) -- Fiction
Her whirling words expressed the feeling in my own mind. I had the same
sense of being trifled with by these young people, who would not behave
so conclusively toward each other as to justify our interference on the
ground that they were in love, nor yet treat each other so indifferently
as to relieve us of the strain of apprehension. I had lost all faith in
accident by this time, and I was quite willing to leave them to their own
devices; I was so desperate that I said I hoped they would get lost from
us, as they had from me the night before, and never come back, but just
keep on wandering round for ever. All sorts of vengeful thoughts went
through my mind as I saw them leaning toward each other to say something,
and then drawing apart to laugh in what seemed an indefinite comradery
instead of an irrepressible passion. Did they think we were going to let
this sort of thing go on? What did they suppose our nerves were made of?
Had they no mercy, no consideration? It was quite like the selfishness
of youth to wish to continue in that fool’s paradise, but they would find
out that middle age had its rights too. I felt capable of asking them
bluntly what they meant by it. But when they docilely rejoined us at the
end of the races, hurrying up with some joke about not letting me get
lost this time, and Miss Gage put herself at my wife’s side and Kendricks
dropped into step with me, all I had been thinking seemed absurd. They
were just two young people who were enjoying a holiday-time together, and
we were in no wise culpable concerning them.
I suggested this to Mrs. March when we got home, and, in the need of some
relief from the tension she had been in, she was fain to accept the
theory provisionally, though I knew that her later rejection of it would
be all the more violent for this respite.
XV
THERE was to be a hop at the Grand Union that night, and I had got
tickets for it in virtue of my relation to _Every Other Week_. I must
say the clerk who gave them me was very civil about it; he said they were
really only for the hotel guests, but he was glad to give them to
outsiders who applied with proper credentials; and he even offered me
more tickets than I asked for.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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