CHAPTER XIX
RE-CREATION
Were you ever wakened in the early morning by the clear whistle of ameadow-lark over your head, with the rich scent of the mountain pinescoming to you on the pure light air of a new day, with the sun wrappingthe earth in misty blue, and staining the mountains with rose? ToDavid, lying on his cot in the open air, every dawning morning was anew creation, a brand new promise of hope. To be sure, the enchantmentwas like to be broken in a moment, still the call of the morning hadfired his blood, and given him a new impetus,--impetus, not for work,not for ambition, not for activity, just an impetus to lie quietly onhis cot and be happy.
The birds were shortly rivaled by the sweeter, dearer, not lessheavenly voice of little Julia, calling an imaginary dog, counting hermother's eyes, or singing to herself an original improvise upon theexalted subject of two brown bugs. And a moment later, came the soundof rapturous kissing, and Carol was awake. And before the smile ofcontent left his face, she stood in the doorway, her face flushed withsleep, her hair tumbling about her face, a warm bath robe drawn abouther. Always her greeting was the same.
"Good morning, David. Another glorious day, isn't it?"
Then Julia came splashing out in Aunt Connie's new rose-colored boudoirslippers, with Connie in hot barefooted pursuit. And the new day hadbegun, the riotous, delirious day, with Julia at the helm.
Connie had amusing merry tales to tell of her work, and her friends,and the family back home. And time had to be crowded a little to makeroom for long drives in the Harmer Six. Carol promptly learned todrive it herself, and David, tentatively at first, talked of trying hisown hand on it. And finally he did, and took a boyish satisfaction inhis ability to manipulate the gears. Oh, perhaps it made him a littlemore short of breath, and he found that his nerves were more highlykeyed than in the old time days,--anyhow he came home tired, hungry,ready to sleep.
Even the occasional windy or cloudy days, when the Harmer Six was leftwickedly wasting in the garage, had their attractions. How the girlsdid talk! Sometimes, when they had finished the dishes, Carol, intenton Connie's story, stood patiently rubbing the dish pan a hundred, athousand times, until David would call pleadingly, "Girls, come outhere and talk." Then, recalled in a flash, they rushed out to him,afraid the endless chatter would tire him, but happy that he liked tohear it.
"Speaking of lovers," Connie would begin brightly,--for like so many ofthe very charming girls who see no charm in matrimony, most of Connie'sconversation dealt with that very subject. And it was what herauditors liked best of all to hear. Why, sometimes Carol wouldinterrupt right in the middle of some account of her success on thepapers, to ask if a certain man was married, or young, or good looking.After all, getting married was the thing. And Connie was notsufficiently enthusiastic about that. Writing stories was very well,and poems and books had their place no doubt, but Shakespeare himselfnever turned out a masterpiece to compare with Julia sitting plump andhappy in the puddle of mud to the left of the kitchen door, her roundpink face streaked and stained and grimy.
"I really did decide to get married once," Connie began confidentially,when they were comfortably settled on the porch by David's cot. "Itwas when I was in Mount Mark one time. Julia was so sweet I thought Icould not possibly wait another minute. I kept thinking over the menin my mind, and finally I decided to apply my business training to theproblem. Do you remember Dan Brooks?"
Carol nodded instantly. She remembered all the family beaus from thevery beginning. "A doctor now, isn't he? Lives next door to the folksin Mount Mark. I used to think you would marry him, Connie. He iswell off, and nice, too. And a doctor is very dignified."
Connie agreed warmly, and David laughed. All the Starrs had been sosensible in discussing the proper qualifications for lovers, and allhad impulsively married whenever the heart dictated.
"Yes, that's Dan. Did you ever notice that cluster of lilac bushesoutside our dining-room window? Maybe you used it in your own beaudays. It is a lovely place to sit, very effective, for Dan's studyoverlooks it from the up-stairs, and their dining-room fromdown-stairs. So whenever I want to lure Dan I sit under the lilacs.He can't miss me.
"One day I planted myself out there with a little red note-book and thetelephone directory. Dan and his mother were eating luncheon. I wasabsorbed in my work, but just the same I had a wary eye on Dan. Heshoved back his chair, and got up. Then he kissed his mother lightlyand came out the side door, whistling. I looked up, closed thedirectory, snapped the lock on my note-book, and took the pencil out ofmy mouth. I said, 'Hello, Danny.' Then I shoved the books behind me.
"'Hello, Connie.--No, I wouldn't invite Fred Arnold if I were you. Itwould just encourage him to try, try again, and it would mean anadditional wound in the heart for him. Leave him out.'
"I frowned at him. 'I am not doing a party,' I said coldly.
"'No? Then why the directory? You are not reading it for amusement,are you? You are not--'
"'Never mind, Dan. It is my directory, and if I wish to look up myfriends--'
"'Look up your friends!' Dan was plainly puzzled. 'None of mybusiness, of course, but it is a queer notion. And why the tablet?Are you taking notes?' He reached for the notebook with the easyfamiliarity that people use when they have known you all your life. Ishoved it away and flushed a little. I can flush at a second's notice,Carol. It is very effective in a crisis. I'll teach you, if you like.It only requires a little imagination."
Carol hugged her knees and beamed at Connie. "Go on," she begged."How did it turn out?"
"'Well,' he said, 'you must be writing a book. Are you looking upheroes? Mount Mark isn't tremendously rich in hero material. But heream I, tall, handsome, courageous.'
"I sniffed, then I smiled, then I giggled. 'Yes,' I agreed, 'I waslooking up heroes, but not for a book.'
"'What for then?'
"'For me.'
"'For you?'
"'Yes, for me. I want a hero of my own. Dan,' I said in an earnestimpressive manner, 'you may think this is very queer, and not verymodest, but I need a confidant, and Aunt Grace would think I am crazy.Cross your heart you'll never tell?'
"Dan obediently crossed, and I drew out the books.
"'I am going to get married.'
"Dan pulled his long members together with a jerk and sat up. He wasspeechless.
"I nodded affirmatively. 'Yes. Does it surprise you?'
"'Who to?' he demanded furiously and ungrammatically.
"'I haven't just decided,' I vouchsafed reluctantly.
"'You haven't--great Scott, are they coming around in droves likethat?' He glanced down the street as if he expected to see a galaxy ofadmirers heaving into view. 'I knew there were a few hanging around,but there aren't many fellows in Mount Mark.'
"'No, not many, and they aren't coming in droves. I am going afterthem.'
"Having known me almost since my toothless days, Dan knew he could onlywait.
"'I am getting pretty old, you know.'
"He looked at me critically and gave my age a smile.
"'I am very much in favor of marriage, and families, and such things.I want one myself. And if I don't hurry up, I'll have to adopt it.There's an age limit, you know.'"
"'Age limit,' he exploded.
"'I think I shall have a winter wedding, a white one, along in January.Not in December, it might interfere with my Christmas presents.'
"'Connie--'
"'I am going to be very systematic about it. In this note-book I ammaking a list of all the nice Mount Markers. I couldn't think of anymyself right offhand, so I had to resort to the directory. Now I shallgo through the list and grade them. Some are black-marked right at thestart. Those that sound reasonable, I shall try out. The one thatmakes good, I shall marry. I've got to hurry, too. My vacation onlylasts a week, and I have to work on my trousseau a little. It's lotsof fun. I am perfectly fascinated with it.'
"Dan had nothing to say.
He looked at me with that blankness ofincomprehension that must be maddening in a man after you are marriedto him."
Carol squeezed David's hand and gurgled rapturously. This was hergreat delight, to get Connie talking, so cleverly, of her variegatedand cosmopolitan love-affairs.
"'I suppose you are surprised,' I said kindly, 'and naturally you thinkit rather queer. You mustn't let any one know. Mount Mark could nevercomprehend such modernity. I feel very advanced, myself. I want tospring up and shout, "Votes for Women" or "Up with the Red Flag," or"Villa Forever," or something else outspoken and bloody.'"
Carol and David shook with laughter, silently, not to interrupt thestory.
"'How about love, Connie?' suggested Dan, meekly.
"'I believe in love, absolutely. That is my strongest point. As soonas I find a champion, I am going to concentrate all my energy and allmy talent on falling dead in love with him.'
"'Have you found any eligibles yet?'
"'Yes, Harvey Grath, and Robert Ingersoll, and Cal Keith, and DoctorMeredith.'
"'Where do I come in?'
"'Oh, we know each other too well,' I said with discouragingpromptness. 'The real fascination in getting married is the novelty ofit. There wouldn't be any novelty in marrying you. I know as muchabout you as your mother does. Eggs fried over, meat well done, nogravy, breakfast in bed Sunday morning, sporting pages first,--it wouldbe like marrying father. Now I must get to work, Danny, so you'dbetter trot along and not bother me. And you must keep away eveningsunless you have a date in advance. You might interrupt something ifyou bob in unannounced.'
"'May I have a date this evening?' he asked with high hauteur.
"'So sorry, Danny, I have a date with Cal Keith.' I consulted thenote-book. 'To-morrow night Doctor Meredith. Thursday night, BuddyJohnson.'
"'Friday then?'
"'Yes, Friday.'
"The next time he saw me, he said first thing, which proved he had beenthinking seriously, 'I suppose it will be the end of my hanging aroundhere if you get married.'
"Evidently he thought I would contradict him. But I didn't.
"'I am afraid so,' I admitted. 'My husband will be so fearfullyjealous! He will be so crazy about me that he won't allow another manto come within a mile of me.'
"Dan snorted. 'You don't know how crazy he'll be about you.'
"'Oh, yes, I do, for when I pick him out, I'll see to that part of it.That will be easy. It is picking him out that is hard.'
"You know how Dan is, Carol. He is very fond of the girls, especiallyme, and he makes love in a sort of semi-fashion, but he never reallywanted to get married. He liked to be a bachelor. He noticed howother men ran down after marriage, and he didn't want to run down. Hesaw how so many girls went to seed after marriage, and he didn't wantthem to belong to him. 'Let well enough alone, you fool,' was hisphilosophy. I knew it. He had told me about it often, and I alwayssaid it was sound good sense.
"The second afternoon I told him I was going to wear white lace to bemarried in, and had picked out my bridesmaids. I asked him where wouldbe a nice place to go for a honeymoon, and he flung himself home in ahuff, and said it was none of his business where I went but hesuggested New London or Danville. I showed no annoyance when he leftso abruptly. I was too busy. I drew my feet up under me and went onmaking notes in my red book. He looked out from behind the windows ofthe dining-room, carefully concealed of course, but I saw him. I couldhear him nearly having apoplexy when he saw me utterly and blissfullyabsorbed in my book."
Carol chuckled in ecstasy. She foresaw that Connie was practicallyengaged to Dan, a prince of a fellow, and she was so glad. That littlescamp of a Connie, to keep it secret so long.
"Oh," she cried, "I always thought you loved each other."
"So?" asked Connie coolly. "Dan admitted he was surprised that myplans worked so easily. Before that he had been my escort on everyoccasion, and the town accepted it blandly. Now I had a regular seriesof attendants, and Dan was relegated to a few spare moments under thelilacs now and then. He couldn't see how I got hold of the fellows.He said they were perfect miffs to be nosed around like that. Whydidn't they show some manhood? Boneless, brainless jelly fishes,jumping head first because a little snip of a girl said jump.
"The third day I called him on the phone.
"'Dan, come over quick. I have the loveliest thing to show you.'
"He did not wait for a hat. He dashed out and over the hedge, and Ihad the door open for him.
"'Oh, look,' I gurgled. I am not a very good gurgler, but sometimesyou just have to do it.
"Dan looked. 'Nothing but silverware, is it?'
"I was hurt. 'Nothing but silverware? Why, it is my silverware, formy own little house. It cost a terribly, criminally lot, but Icouldn't resist it. I really feel much more settled since I bought it.There is something very final about silverware. See these prettydoilies I am making. Aunt Grace is crocheting a bedspread for me, too.Those are guest towels,--they were given to me.'
"Dan's lips curled scornfully. He turned the lovely linens roughly,and wiped his hands on a dainty guest towel.
"'Connie, this is downright immodest. Furnishing your house before youhave a lover!'
"'Do you think so?' I kissed a circular hand-embroidered table-cloth.'If I had known it was such fun furnishing my house, I'd have had thelover years ago and don't you forgit it.'
"'I am disappointed in you.'
"'I am sorry,' I said lightly. 'But I am so excited over gettingmarried, that I can't bother much about what mere friends think anymore. My husband's opinions--'
"'Mere friends,' he shouted. 'Mere friends! I am no mere friend,Connie Starr. I'M--I'M--'
"'Yes, what are you?'
"Well, I am your pal, your chum, your old schoolmate, your bestfriend,--'
"'Oh, that was before I was engaged.'
"'Engaged?' Dan was staggered. 'Are you really engaged then? Haveyou found the right one?'
"'Being engaged alters the situation. You must see that.'
"'Who is it?'
"'Oh, don't be so silly. I haven't found the right one yet. But theprinciple is just the same. With marriage just ahead of me, all therest of the world must stand back to give place to my fiance.'
"Dan sneered. 'Yeh, look at the world standing back and gazing withenvy on this moonbeam fiance. Look!'
"'Oh, Dan it is the most fascinating thing in the world. In fourmonths I may be standing at the altar, dressed in filmy white,--Ibought the veil yesterday,--promising to love, honor and obey,--withreservations,--for the rest of my life. A little home of my own, ahusband to pet, and chum with,--I am awfully happy, Dan, honestly I am.'
"And Carol I did enjoy it. It was fun. I was simply hypnotized withthe idea of having a house and a husband and a lot of little Julias.Dan glared at me in disgust. Then he went home, snarling about mymushiness. But he thought it was becoming to me. He said I gotprettier every day. I would not even let him touch my hand any more.You know Dan and I were pretty good pals for a long time, and he wasallowed little privileges like that. Now it was all off. Dan mightrave and Dan might storm, but I stood firm. He could not touch myhands! I was consecrated to my future husband.
"'It may not be wicked, Dan, I do not say it is. But it makes meshiver to think what would happen if my husband caught you doing it.He might kill you on the spot.'
"'You haven't got a husband,' Dan would snap.
"'The principle is just the same.' Then I would dimple up at him. Iam not the dimply type of girl, I know, but there are times when onehas simply got to dimple at a man, and by wrinkling my face properly Ican give the dimple effect. I have practised it weary hours before themirror. I have often prayed for a dimpled skin like yours, Carol, butI guess the Lord could not figure out how to manage it since my skinwas practically finished before I began to pray. 'I keep wonderingwhat he will like for breakfast,' I said to Dan. 'Isn't that silly? Ihope he does not want
fried potatoes. It seems so horrible to havepotatoes for breakfast.' Then I added loyally, 'But he will probablybe a very strong character, original, and unique, and men like thatalways have a few idiosyncrasies, so if he wants fried potatoes forbreakfast he shall have them.'
"Dan sniffed again. He was becoming a chronic sniffer in these days ofmy engagement.
"'Yeh, he'll want fried potatoes all right, and postum, and left-overpumpkin pie. I have a picture of the big mutt in my mind now."Constance," he'll say, "for pity's sake put more lard in the potatoeswhen you fry them. They are too dry. Take them back and cook themover." He will want his potatoes swimming in grease, he is bound to,that's just the kind of man he is. He will want everything greasy.Oh, you're going to have a sweet time with that big stiff.'
"I shook my fist at him. 'He will not!' I cried. 'Don't you dare makefun of my husband. He--he--' Then I stopped and laughed. 'Isn't itfunny how women always rush to defend their husbands when outsidersspeak against them? We may get cross at them ourselves, but no oneelse shall ridicule them.'
"'Yes, you are one loving little wife all right. You sure are. Youwon't let any one say a mean word against your sweet littlesnookie-ookums. Oh, no. Wait till you get to darning his socks, youwon't be so crazy about him then.'
"'I do get a little cross when I darn his socks,' I confessed. 'Idon't mind embroidering monograms on his silk shirts, but I can't saythat so far I really enjoy darning his socks. Still, since they arehis, it is not quite so bad. I wouldn't darn anybody else's, not evenmy own.'
"'Are you doing it already?' Dan gasped. He found it very hard to keepme and my husband straight in his mind.
"'I am just pretending. I practise on father's. I want to be a veryefficient darner, so my patches won't make his poor dear feet sore.'
"'Lord help us,' cried Dan, springing to his feet and flinging himselfthrough the hedge and slamming the door until it shook the house. Hewent away angry every time. He simply couldn't be rational. One dayhe said he guessed he would have to be the goat and marry me himselfjust to keep me out of trouble. Then he blushed, and went home andforgot his hat.
"Came down to the last day. 'It has simmered down to Harvey Grath andBuddy Johnson,' I told him. 'Harvey Grath,--Buddy Johnson,--HarveyGrath,--Buddy Johnson. Do run away, Danny, and don't be a nuisance.Harvey Grath,--Buddy Johnson.'
"Dan neglected his patients until it is a wonder they did not alldie,--or get well, or something. He sat up-stairs in his studywatching an endless procession of Harvey Graths and Buddy Johnsons,coming, lingering, going.
"That night, regardless of the illuminating moon, I took Buddy Johnsonto the lilac corner. Dan was up-stairs smoking in front of his window.Buddy didn't know about that window, but I did. He took my hand, and Ilet him. I leaned my head against his shoulder,--not truly against,just near enough so Dan could not tell the difference. Buddy tried tokiss me, and nearly did it. I wasn't expecting it just at that minute.Dan sprang from his chair before the conclusion, so he did not know ifthe kiss was a fact, or not. Then I moved two feet away. Dan came outand marched across to the lilacs.
"'Connie,' he said, 'I am sorry to interrupt, but I need to talk to youa few minutes. It is a matter of business.' To Buddy he said, 'Youknow Connie always helps me out when I get stuck. Can you give me aminute, Connie?'
"I said, 'Of course I can. You'll excuse me won't you, Buddy? It isgetting late anyhow.'
"So Buddy went away and Dan marched we up on the porch where it wasdark and shady.
"'Are you engaged to Buddy Johnson?'
"'No.'
"'Thank Heaven.'
"Dan kissed me, regardless of the accusing eyes of my husband in thebackground."
Carol breathed loudly in her relief. He kissed her. Connie did notcare. They were engaged.
"Dan breathlessly took back everything he ever said about gettingmarried, and being a bachelor, and so forth. He said he was crazy tobe married, always had been, but didn't find it out before. He said hehad always adored me. And I drew out my note-book, and showed him thefirst page,--Doctor Daniel Brooks, O. K. And every other name in thebook was checked off.
"Dan was jubilant." Connie's voice trailed away slowly, and herearnest fine eyes were cloudy.
"An engagement," cried Carol, springing up.
"No," said Connie slowly, "a blunder."
"A blunder," faltered Carol, falling back. "You did it on purpose tomake him propose, didn't you?"
"Yes, and he proposed, and we were engaged. But it was just a blunder.It was not Dan I wanted. Carol, every woman feels like that at times.She is full of that great magnificent ideal of home, and husband, andlittle children. It seems the finest thing in the world, the onlyflawless life. She can't resist it, for the time being. She feelsthat work is silly, that success is tawdry, that ambition is wicked.It is dangerous, Carol, for if she gets the opportunity, or if she canmake the opportunity, she is pretty sure to seize it. I believe thatis why so many marriages are unhappy,--girls mistake that naturalwoman-wish for love, and they get married, and then--shipwreck."
Carol sat silent.
"Yes," said David sympathetically, "I think you are right. You werelucky to escape."
"I knew that evening, that one little evening of our engagement, thathaving a home and a husband, and even a little child like Julia, wouldnever be enough. Something else had to come first. And it had notcome. I went to bed and cried all night, so sorry for Dan for I knewhe loved me,--but not sorry enough to make me do him such a cruelinjustice. The next morning I told him, and that afternoon I returnedto Chicago.
"I have thought a whole lot more of my job since then."
"But why couldn't you love him?" asked Carol impatiently. "It seemsunreasonable, Connie. He is nice enough for anybody, and you were justripe and ready for it."
Connie shrugged her shoulders. "Why didn't you love somebody elsebesides David?" she asked, and laughed at the quick resentment thatflashed to Carol's eyes.
"Well," concluded Connie, "God certainly wanted a few old maids toleaven the earth, and I think I have the making for a good leavener.So I write stories, and let other women wash the little Julias' faces,"she added, laughing, as Julia, unrecognizably dirty, entered with asoup can full of medicine she had painstakingly concocted to make herdaddy well.