He looked at Helen, who answered that it would be delightful if Alice
would go and the gentlemen were agreeable.
“Are the horses perfectly safe? I am sometimes a little timid,” she
asked.
Craig laughed as he recalled the habits of the bloods and wished so much
for his fleet Dido, standing idle in her stall in Auburndale, his
mother’s country residence. He had not taken a sip of his lemonade since
Helen joined them, but he did so now, and that diverted Uncle Zach’s
thoughts into another channel.
“George of Uxbridge!” he said, “what are we thinkin’ about, not offerin’
Miss Tracy some lemonade. Mark, go this minit and make her a glass.”
It grated on Helen to have her Apollo ordered as a servant, and she made
a faint protest, begging Mark not to trouble himself for her.
“Yes, he will, too; he’s made hundreds on ’em,—tiptop ones, too. No
sticks in ’em, though. We are teetotalers here, we be,” Uncle Zach said.
There was nothing Helen enjoyed more than champagne and sherry, and she
thought a fashionable dinner very tame without them, and that lemonade
was improved with claret, but she was a Roman with the Romans and smiled
on Uncle Zach as she said, “And you are quite right, too.”
Then she settled herself to wait for her lemonade which was longer in
making than Craig’s had been. For her the ice was chopped fine, every
seed and bit of pulp was removed and the mixture beaten until it had a
creamy look on the top. Lemonade spoons had not been invented, but Mark
put a fresh straw and teaspoon and napkin on the tray, which he took to
the young lady, who declared she had never drank anything more
delicious. As she talked some leaves from the rose in her ribbons fell
into her lap.
“My poor rose, it’s fading, and it was so sweet, and I am so fond of
roses. Sarah said you put it on the table for us. Are there more where
this came from?”
She turned to Mark with a look which, had he been Jeff, would have sent
him on to his head at once. As it was he merely lost it and stammered
out that he didn’t know,—he’d inquire, and get her more, if possible.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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