The Valley of the Giants
CHAPTER XI
When Shirley Sumner descended to the breakfast room on the morningfollowing her arrival in Sequoia, the first glance at her uncle'sstately countenance informed her that during the night something hadoccurred to irritate Colonel Seth Pennington and startle him out ofhis customary bland composure. He greeted her politely but coldly, andwithout even the perfunctory formality of inquiring how she had passedthe night, he came directly to the issue,
"Shirley," he began, "did I hear you calling young Cardigan on thetelephone after dinner last night or did my ears deceive me?"
"Your ears are all right, Uncle Seth. I called Mr. Cardigan up to thankhim for the pie he sent over, and incidentally to invite him over hereto dinner on Thursday night."
"I thought I heard you asking somebody to dinner, and as you don't knowa soul in Sequoia except young Cardigan, naturally I opined that he wasto be the object of our hospitality."
The Colonel coughed slightly. From the manner in which he approached thetask of buttering his hot cakes Shirley knew he had something moreto say and was merely formulating a polite set of phrases in which toexpress himself. She resolved to help him along.
"I dare say it's quite all right to have invited him; isn't it, UncleSeth?"
"Certainly, certainly, my dear. Quite all right, but er--ah, slightlyinconvenient."
"Oh, I'm so sorry. If I had known--Perhaps some other night--"
"I am expecting other company Thursday night--unfortunately, Brayton,the president of the Bank of Sequoia, is coming up to dine and discusssome business affairs with me afterward; so if you don't mind, my dear,suppose you call young Cardigan up and ask him to defer his visit untilsome later date."
"Certainly, Uncle. There is no particular reason why I should haveMr. Cardigan on Thursday if his presence would mean the slightestinterference with your plans. What perfectly marvellous roses! How didyou succeed in growing them, Uncle Seth?"
He smiled sourly. "I didn't raise them," he replied. "That half-breedIndian that drives John Cardigan's car brought them around about an hourago, along with a card. There it is, beside your plate."
She blushed ever so slightly. "I suppose Bryce Cardigan is vindicatinghimself," she murmured as she withdrew the card from the envelope. Asshe had surmised, it was Bryce Cardigan's. Colonel Pennington was theproprietor of a similar surmise.
"Fast work, Shirley," he murmured banteringly. "I wonder what he'll sendyou for luncheon. Some dill pickles, probably."
She pretended to be very busy with the roses, and not to have heardhim. Her uncle's sneer was not lost on her, however; she resented it butchose to ignore it for the present; and when at length she had finishedarranging the flowers, she changed the conversation adroitly byquestioning her relative anent the opportunities for shopping inSequoia. The Colonel, who could assimilate a hint quicker than mostordinary mortals, saw that he had annoyed her, and he promptly hastenedto make amends by permitting himself to be led readily into this newconversational channel. As soon as he could do so, however, he excusedhimself on the plea of urgent business at the office, and left the room.
Shirley, left alone at the breakfast-table, picked idly at the preservedfigs the owlish butler set before her. Vaguely she wondered at heruncle's apparent hostility to the Cardigans; she was as vaguely troubledin the knowledge that until she should succeed in eradicating thishostility, it must inevitably act as a bar to the further progress ofher friendship with Bryce Cardigan. And she told herself she did notwant to lose that friendship. She wasn't the least bit in love with himalbeit she realized he was rather lovable. The delight which she hadexperienced in his society lay in the fact that he was absolutelydifferent from any other man she had met. His simplicity, his utter lackof "swank," his directness, his good nature, and dry sense of humourmade him shine luminously in comparison with the worldly, ratherartificial young men she had previously met--young men who said and didonly those things which time, tradition, and hallowed memory assuredthem were done by the right sort of people. Shirley had a suspicion thatBryce Cardigan could--and would--swear like a pirate should his temperbe aroused and the circumstances appear to warrant letting off steam.Also she liked him because he was imaginative--because he saw and sensedand properly understood without a diagram or a blueprint. And lastly,he was a good, devoted son and was susceptible of development intoa congenial and wholly acceptable comrade to a young lady absolutelylacking in other means of amusement.
She finished her breakfast in thoughtful silence; then she went to thetelephone and called up Bryce at his home. Mrs. Tully, all aflutter withcuriosity, was quite insistent that Shirley should leave her name andtelephone number, but failing to carry her point, consented to informthe latter that Mr. Bryce was at the office. She gave Shirley thetelephone number.
When the girl called the Cardigan Redwood Lumber Company, Bryceanswered. He recognized her voice instantly and called her name beforeshe had opportunity to announce her identity.
"Thank you so much for the beautiful roses, Mr. Cardigan," she began.
"I'm glad you liked them. Nobody picks flowers out of our garden, youknow. I used to, but I'll be too busy hereafter to bother with thegarden."
"Very well. Then I am not to expect any more roses?"
"I'm a stupid clodhopper. Of course you may. By the way, Miss Sumner,does your uncle own a car?"
"I believe he does--a little old rattletrap which he drives himself."
"Then I'll send George over with the Napier this afternoon. You mightcare to take a spin out into the surrounding country. By the way,Miss Sumner, you are to consider George and that car as your personalproperty. I fear you're going to find Sequoia a dull place; so wheneveryou wish to go for a ride, just call me up, and I'll have George reportto you."
"But think of all the expensive gasoline and tires!"
"Oh, but you mustn't look at things from that angle after you cross theRocky Mountains on your way west. Moreover, mine is the only real carin the country, and I know you like it. What are you going to do thisafternoon?"
"I don't know. I haven't thought that far ahead."
"For some real sport I would suggest that you motor up to Laguna Grande.That's Spanish for Big Lagoon, you know. Take a rod with you. There aresome land-locked salmon in the lagoon--that is, there used to be; and ifyou hook one you'll get a thrill."
"But I haven't any rod."
"I'll send you over a good one."
"But I have nobody to teach me how to use it," she hinted daringly.
"I appreciate that compliment," he flashed back at her, "butunfortunately my holidays are over for a long, long time. I took myfather's place in the business this morning."
"So soon?"
"Yes. Things have been happening while I was away. However, speaking offishing, George Sea Otter will prove an invaluable instructor. He is agood boy and you may trust him implicitly. On Thursday evening you cantell me what success you had with the salmon."
"Oh, that reminds me, Mr. Cardigan. You can't come Thursday evening,after all." And she explained the reason.
"By Jove," he replied, "I'm mighty glad you tipped me off about that.I couldn't possibly remain at ease in the presence of abanker-particularly one who will not lend me money."
"Suppose you come Wednesday night instead."
"We'll call that a bet. Thank you."
She chuckled at his frank good humour. "Thank YOU, Mr Cardigan, for allyour kindness and thoughtfulness; and if you WILL persist in being niceto me, you might send George Sea Otter and the car at one-thirty. I'llbe glad to avail myself of both until I can get a car of my own sent upfrom San Francisco. Till Wednesday night, then. Good-bye."
As Bryce Cardigan hung up, he heaved a slight sigh, and a parody on aquatrain from "Lalla Rookh" ran through his mind:
I never loved a dear gazelle, To glad me with its limpid eye, But when Ilearned to love it well, The gol-darned thing was sure to die!
It was difficult to get out of the habit of playing; he found himselfthe posses
sor of a very great desire to close down the desk, callon Shirley Sumner, and spend the remainder of the day basking in thesunlight of her presence.