Anonyms and pseudonyms -- Fiction; Authorship -- Fiction; Boston (Mass.) -- Social life and customs -- Fiction
Bradish sent the trap away with the satisfactory groom, and then
accompanied his companion upstairs. They were no sooner inside the door
of her apartment than he turned to the widow with an air of sudden
determination.
"Louisa," he said with awkward abruptness, "what did you mean this
afternoon?"
He grasped her hands with both his; his hat, which he had half tossed
upon the table, went bowling merrily over the floor, but he gave it no
heed.
"Good gracious, Harry," she cried, laughing up into his face, "how
tragic you are! Pick up your hat."
He glanced at the hat, but he did not release her hands. He let her
remark pass, and went on with increasing intensity which was not unmixed
with wistfulness.
"I've been thinking about it all the way home," he declared. "You've
always teased me, Louisa, from the days we were babies, and of course
I'm an old fool; but--Were you willing I should kiss your hand?"
He stopped in speechless confusion, the color coming into his cheeks,
and looked pathetically into her laughing face.
"Lots of men have," she responded.
He dropped her hands, and grew paler.
"But to-day--" he stammered.
"But what to-day?" she cried, moving near to him.
"I thought that to-day--Louisa, for heaven's sake, do you care for me?"
"Not for heaven's sake," she murmured, looking younger and more
bewitching than ever.
Some women at forty-five are by Providence allowed still to look as
young as their children, and Mrs. Neligage was one of them. Her airs
would perhaps have been ridiculous in one less youthful in appearance,
but she carried them off perfectly. Bradish was evidently too completely
and tragically in earnest to see the point of her quip. He looked so
disappointed and abashed that it was not strange for her to burst into a
peal of laughter.
"Oh, Harry," she cried, "you are such a dear old goose! Must I say it in
words? Well, then; here goes, despite modesty! Take me!"
He stared at her as if in doubt of his senses.
"Do you mean it?" he stammered.
"I do at this minute, but if you're not quick I may change my mind!"
Then Harry Bradish experienced a tremendous reaction from the excessive
shyness of nearly half a century, and gathered her into his arms.
XXVII
THE CLIMAX OF COMEDY
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