Lippincott's Magazine of Popular Literature and Science, October, 1877. Vol XX - No. 118Various
History
Lippincott's Magazine of Popular Literature and Science, October, 1877. Vol XX - No. 118
Various
Literature, Modern -- 19th century -- Periodicals; Science -- Periodicals
"My dear," said Koenigin, still laughing, though sympathetic, "it strikes me
that we began by making rather a demi-god of the man, and are ending by
stripping him of even the good qualities which he probably does possess."
Well! things went on in this exasperating way for a week or so longer. Of
course I washed my hands of the Jook, for I was too much exasperated to be
even civil to him. Kitty was as bright and good-natured as ever, ready to
enjoy all the little pleasures that came in her way, though now and then I
fancied that I detected a stealthy, wistful look at the Jook's impassive
face.
It was lovely that day, but fearfully hot. The sun showered down its
burning rays upon the white Florida sands, the sky was one arch of
cloudless blue, and the water-oaks swung their moss-wreaths languidly over
the deserted streets. We had been dreaming and drowsing away the morning,
Koenigin, Kitty and I, in the jelly-fish-like state into which one naturally
falls in Florida.
Suddenly Kitty sprang to her feet. "I can't stand this any longer," she
said: "I shall turn into an oyster if I vegetate here. Please, do you see
any shells sprouting on my back yet?"
"What do you want to do?" I asked drowsily. "You can't walk in this heat,
and if you go on the river the sun will take the skin off your face, and
where are you then, Miss Kitty?"
"I can't help that," retorted Kitty in a tone of desperation. "I don't
exactly know where I shall go, but I think in pursuit of some yellow
jessamine."
I sat straight up and gazed at her: "Are you mad, Kitty? Has the heat
addled your brain already? You would have to walk at least a mile before
you could find any; and what's the good of it, after all? It would all be
withered before you could get home."
"Can't help that," repeated Kitty: "I shall have had it, at all events.
Any way, I'm going, and you two can finish your dreams in peace."
It was useless to argue with Kitty when she was in that mood, so I
contented myself with giving her directions for reaching the nearest copse
where she would be likely to find the fragrant beauty.
Two hours later Koenigin sat at the window gazing down the long sandy
street. Suddenly her face changed, an expression of interest and surprise
came into her dreamy eyes: she put up her glass, and then broke into a
laugh. "Come and look at this," she exclaimed; and I came.
What I saw was only Kitty and the Jook, but Kitty and the Jook walking side
by side in the most amicable manner--Kitty sparkling, bewitching, helpless,
appealing by turns or altogether as only she could be; the Jook watching
her with an expression of amusement and delight on his handsome face. And
both were laden with great wreaths and trails of yellow jessamine, golden
chalices of fragrance, drooping sprays of green glistening leaves, until
they looked like walking bowers.
"How on earth--" I exclaimed, and could get no further: my feelings choked
me.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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