Kitabı oku: «Marjorie Dean's Romance», sayfa 12
CHAPTER XXVII
ROMANCE
“The magic of yon sailing moon
Lures my poor heartstrings out of me;
God’s moonshine whitens the lagoon:
The earth’s a silver mystery.”
“Why, Hal, I didn’t know you knew that poem!” Marjorie stood beside Hal at the top of the veranda steps bathed in the white moonlight. Looking at her, Hal had quoted the verse of old Irish poetry. “Leila must have taught you that.” She smiled, but there was a tiny ache in her heart.
“You taught me that. You recited it one night when we were down on the beach. That was last summer. It seems longer ago.”
“So I did. I had forgotten.” For some unknown reason Marjorie felt lighter of heart. The tiny pain was gone.
“That was a white moonlight night. So is this. Come and take a walk.” Hal stretched out a hand to Marjorie.
“Just a little way.” She followed him down the steps, but laughingly refused his hand. “I know this place better than you. I don’t need a guide,” she said. “We mustn’t go far from the veranda. I am hungry. We are soon going to have a midnight supper, especially for you.”
“I’m grateful for hospitality. What a corking old piece of magnificence the Arms is! I wish I had time to see it thoroughly. I’d invade your study and bother you. I give you fair warning.”
“Why can’t you stay at the Arms for a few days, Hal? Jerry will be so disappointed. You can’t know as I know how much she loves you.”
“I know.” Hal nodded. “Jerry will be home before long. But you won’t be home for – ” He paused. “Are you coming home in June?”
“I don’t know.” The answer came doubtfully. “The biography won’t be finished until some time next winter. I must come back to Hamilton next fall to see to our dormitory interest. There are other things, too. Captain and General wish me at home, and Miss Susanna wishes me here, and —
“I want you myself, Marjorie.” Hal’s quick utterance had the virile quality now which had thrilled her when he sang. “Why do I tell you this again when I’ve sworn to myself I’d never trouble you? I don’t know. I only know that you seem to me tonight to be – kinder.”
“Hal, I – ” They were crossing the lawn now strolling aimlessly along under the moon’s pale rays. They came to an immense flowering almond bush. It lifted burgeoning pink clusters, a mass of rioting bloom under the white light.
“Hal, I always mean to be kind to you.” Marjorie did better this time. “I wish you wouldn’t feel that you have troubled me. I have read Brooke Hamilton’s love story. I understand more of love than I used. I know that true love is – it is – ”
“What do you know of love?” Hal’s hands suddenly dropped lightly upon her shoulders. The two had stopped before the great pink bush, facing each other, their young features set with the terrific earnestness of youth. “Have you grown up? Do you love me?”
“I – have grown up this much – I – understand the worth of true love, Hal. That is – ”
“Not loving me yet, but very near it,” came the tender interruption. Hal’s hands slipped from Marjorie’s shoulders. “I love you,” he said. “I love you.”
Marjorie regarded him silently. She knew that Hal was fighting against loving her. That in a moment of emotion he had spoken again the words he had tried to forget. He would instantly go back to his role of devoted friend. She did not wish him to go back. She loved him. How greatly she loved him she could not then guess. She knew only that she loved him.
“What is it, Marjorie?” Hal reached for her hands, caught them, held them unresisting in his own.
Came a silence. A faint vagrant night breeze stirred the trees, touched the faces of the two besides the almond bush. Very gently Hal drew his Violet Girl into his arms.
“It must be a whole year from now, Hal,” Marjorie said later with charming practicality. They were walking toward the house now in answer to at least five minutes’ intermittent whistling of Jerry from the veranda.
“Stop a minute.” Hal drew Marjorie into the shadow of a tall shrub.
“I have oceans to do. I told you all about it a little while ago. Work is work. It can’t be done in a minute. But it can be accomplished by next June. Then I’ll be – I’ll be – ”
“Marjorie Dean Macy,” Hal said, and he punctuated these three euphonic words in true lover’s fashion. The story of that eventful year of accomplishment and triumph, which ended in the dawn of a perfect wedding day for Marjorie, will be told in: “MARJORIE DEAN MACY.”
