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
I had seized his hand, and was wringing it vehemently in expression of my
pleasure in what he had told me. In that first moment I felt nothing but
pure joy and an immeasurable relief. I drew my breath, a very deep and
full one, in a sudden, absolute freedom from anxieties which had been
none the less real and constant because so often burlesqued. Afterward
considerations presented themselves to alloy my rapture, but for that
moment, as I say, it was nothing but rapture. There was no question in
it of the lovers’ fitness for each other, of their acceptability to their
respective families, of their general conduct, or of their especial
behaviour toward us. All that I could realise was that it was a great
escape for both of us, and a great triumph for me. I had been afraid
that I should not have the courage to speak to Kendricks of the matter at
all, much less ask him to go away; and here I had actually spoken to him,
with the splendid result that I need only congratulate him on his
engagement to the lady whose unrequited affections I had been wishing him
to spare. I don’t remember just the terms I used in doing this, but they
seemed satisfactory to Kendricks; probably a repetition of the letters of
the alphabet would have been equally acceptable. At last I said, “Well,
now I must go and tell the great news to Mrs. March,” and I shook hands
with him again; we had been shaking hands at half-minutely intervals ever
since the first time.
XVIII
I SAW Mrs. March waiting for me on the hotel verandah. She wore her
bonnet, and she warned me not to approach, and then ran down to meet me.
“Well, my dear,” she said, as she pushed her hand through my arm and
began to propel me away from the sight and hearing of people on the
piazza, “I hope you didn’t make a fool of yourself with Kendricks.
They’re engaged!”
She apparently expected me to be prostrated by this stroke. “Yes,” I
said very coolly; “I was just coming to tell you.”
“How did you know it? Who told you? Did Kendricks? I don’t believe
it!” she cried in an excitement not unmixed with resentment.
“No one told me,” I said. “I simply divined it.”
She didn’t mind that for a moment. “Well, I’m glad he had the grace to
do so, and I hope he did it before you asked him any leading questions.”
Without waiting to hear whether this was so or not, she went on, with an
emphasis on the next word that almost blotted it out of the language,
“_She_ came back to me almost the instant you were gone, and told me
everything. She said she wanted to tell me last night, but she hadn’t
the courage, and this morning, when she saw that I was beginning to hint
up to Mr. Kendricks a little, she hadn’t the courage at all. I sent her
straight off to telegraph for her father. She is behaving splendidly.
And now, what are we going to do?”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account