For I was being as softly cajoled and canvassed and propagandised as
ever I was in my life. Derry, piloting me from shop to shop into the
Dinard Bazaar, had taken me by the arm; but she wound herself in among
my very heartstrings. And her plan was to upheap me with unasked
confidences before I could say her nay. After that, if I guessed her
thoughts rightly, there would be nothing for me to do but to respect the
sacred but unwanted encumbrance. I should then be enlisted against Alec
and Madge. Those of us whom the years have perhaps mellowed a little are
ever at the mercy of calculated guile of this sort. To tell somebody
something they don't want to know--and then to put them upon their
honour not to divulge it!
The boy, the father of the man, indeed! Save us from the machinations of
the maiden who is mother of the woman!
For she was a woman. In little more than a week or two she had almost
visibly altered, shot up into maturity. I had no doubt that he would
keep his word to me; but--_only_ to see her, _only_ to speak to her!
Only! Though it were but looking, what inch of beauty was there about
her of which I could dare to say, "His eyes have not embraced that, his
glance has not been as his very lips upon it?" Though it were but
hearing, what tone was there in the sweet gamut of her voice of which I
could tell myself, "His ears at any rate have not heard that?" Not one.
And under the homage of his gazing, under the flattery of his hearing,
the last particle of her girlhood had turned and altered. That hair, so
recently a ruddy plait to be "put up" on occasion, was now a bride's
single garland, its golden strands to be unwound again on an occasion
that was not even her parents' concern. Disdain was now all that young
Charterhouse, young Rugby had from those pebble-grey eyes. And that
tongue of hers, lately so petulant with the world, was now her subtlest
weapon, to get under my guard, to seduce me with her confidences about
pigeon-towers and what not, and by and by (I had not the slightest
doubt) to say with a touching and heartfelt sigh, "Oh, what a comfort it
is to have one person one can tell everything to!"
But this was all very well. Quite excellent to pat my pillow, and ask me
whether my flowers had been changed, and to fuss about pouring out tea
for me. But, while I had more or less got their measure singly, I had no
idea what double-dealing they might not be capable of together. So as
she still sat with shining eyes, dreaming again of that columbarium, I
pressed to the next point.
"So he painted you. All in one sitting?"
She dropped the eyes. "I think he said it might take three or four."
"In fact it might be cheaper in the long run to buy the bicycle instead
of hiring it?"
She was demure. "Oh, I don't think so, Uncle George."
"What do they charge for the hire of a bicycle?"
"I don't know, Uncle George. I haven't paid anything yet."
"Then you still have it? Haven't they asked any questions about it?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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