Fantasy fiction; Utopian fiction; Utopias -- Fiction
Dan came occasionally and sat near them during the journey. He said he
had “seen the parson and arranged everything all right.” Susie kept her
veil down all the time. On arriving at the terminus, Dan sent them to
the ladies’ room in the station, having some matter of business to
attend to, and then joined them and conducted them in a carriage to a
hotel, though the distance was exceedingly short, and into a fine
private room, where an elegant dinner for three was already waiting.
Clara tried to be gay, and really could have been so but for Susie, who
trembled like a leaf and looked very pale. Clara removed Susie’s hat and
shawl, and said a thousand reassuring words. Susie tried hard to
respond. Clara saw with pain the effort, and pitied Susie more than
ever. Here the waiter appeared, his napkin over his arm, and asked if he
should serve the dinner. Clara whispered to Dan to put it off, if he
could, a few minutes, and for mercy’s sake to say something comforting
to Susie.
“You may wait ten minutes,” said Dan to the waiter; “but bring the wine
at once.”
“Gay wedding, sis. Don’t you think so?”
“Oh, don’t mind my feeling a little ill,” said Susie, with an effort. “I
feel a little better already.” Dan expressed himself as being “hungry as
a wolf,” and no doubt he was. He had, in the simple ignorance of his
nature, thought a nice dinner would please Clara and Susie, and felt a
little savage to have it put off; therefore, more perhaps from hunger
than anything else, he went and sat down by Susie, and took her hand in
his. Tears, tears forever! What could the poor child do but cry? Dan was
a little touched, and made a very praiseworthy attempt to soothe her.
“Oh, I wish I could cry them all out,” said Susie, wiping her eyes. “You
are so good, both of you, to have so much patience with me. There!” she
said, laughing dismally, “I believe there are no more.”
When the champagne came—of course Dan had provided that—he poured it out
copiously and dismissed the waiter. He insisted upon both Susie and
Clara drinking, and, fearing to displease him, they assented. No sooner
were their glasses half empty than he refilled them; and then the soup
was served. With the second course the waiter brought more champagne,
and when he left Clara exclaimed, good-naturedly, “Mercy! Dan, you are
not expecting us to drink any more?”
“Why not? It seems we need something to keep our courage screwed up to
the sticking point.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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