"I'm going to Uncle's store," she said."I'm late.""I'll walk part of the way with you," he volunteered, and they started on."That--that kiss," he stammered."I can feel it yet."She blushed deeply, happily.Her beauty made him tingle."So can I," she said.
They walked in silence several squares."When will I see you again?" he asked."Tonight?""Yes--do come down.But--Ruth'll be there.I believe Artie Sinclair's coming.""Oh, that counter-jumper?"
She looked at him in surprise."He's an awfully nice fellow,"said she."About the nicest in town."
"Of course," replied Sam elaborately."I beg your pardon.They think differently about those things in the East.""What thing?"
"No matter."
Sam, whose secret dream was to marry some fashionable Eastern woman and cut a dash in Fifth Avenue life, had no intention of explaining what was what to one who would not understand, would not approve, and would be made auspicious of him."I suppose Ruth and Sinclair'll pair off and give us a chance.""You'll come?"
"Right after din--supper, I mean.In the East we have dinner in the evening.""Isn't that queer!" exclaimed Susan.But she was thinking of the joys in store for her at the close of the day.
"I must go back now," said Sam.Far up the street he saw his sister's pony cart coming.
"You might as well walk to the store." It seemed to her that they both had ever so much to say to each other, and had said nothing.
"No.I can't go any further.Good-by--that is, till tonight."He was red and stammering.As they shook hands emotion made them speechless.He stumbled awkwardly as he turned to leave, became still more hotly self-conscious when he saw the grin on the faces of the group of loungers at a packing case near the curb.
Susan did not see the loafers, did not see anything distinctly.
Her feet sought the uneven brick sidewalk uncertainly, and the blood was pouring into her cheeks, was steaming in her brain, making a red mist before her eyes.She was glad he had left her.
The joy of being with him was so keen that it was pain.Now she could breathe freely and could dream--dream--dream.She made blunder after blunder in working over the accounts with her uncle, and he began to tease her.
"You sure are in love, Brownie," declared he.
Her painful but happy blush delighted him.
"Tell me all about it?"
She shook her head, bending it low to hide her color.
"No?...Sometime?"
She nodded.She was glancing shyly and merrily at him now.
"Well, some hold that first love's best.Maybe so.But it seems to me any time's good enough.Still--the first time's mighty fine eh?" He sighed."My, but it's good to be young!" And he patted her thick wavy hair.
It did not leak out until supper that Sam was coming.Warham said to Susan, "While Ruth's looking out for Artie, you and I'll have a game or so of chess, Brownie." Susan colored violently.
"What?" laughed Warham."Are _you_ going to have a beau too?"Susan felt two pairs of feminine eyes pounce--hostile eyes, savagely curious.She paled with fright as queer, as unprecedented, as those hostile glances.It seemed to her that she had done or was about to do something criminal.She could not speak.
An awful silence, then her aunt--she no longer seemed her loving aunt--asked in an ominous voice: "Is someone coming to see you, Susan?""Sam Wright"--stammered Susan--"I saw him this morning--he was at their gate--and he said--I think he's coming."A dead silence--Warham silent because he was eating, but the two others not for that reason.
Susan felt horribly guilty, and for no reason."I'd have spoken of it before," she said, "but there didn't seem to be any chance." She had the instinct of fine shy nature to veil the soul; she found it hard to speak of anything as sacred as this love of hers and whatever related to it.
"I can't allow this, Susie," said her aunt, with lips tightly drawn against the teeth."You are too young.""Oh, come now, mother," cried Warham, good-humoredly."That's foolishness.Let the young folks have a good time.You didn't think you were too young at Susie's age.""You don't understand, George," said Fanny after she had given him a private frown.Susie's gaze was on the tablecloth."Ican't permit Sam to come here to see Susie."
Ruth's eyes were down also.About her lips was a twitching that meant a struggle to hide a pleased smile.
"I've no objection to Susie's having boys of her own age come to see her," continued Mrs.Warham in the same precise, restrained manner."But Sam is too old.""Now, mother----"
Mrs.Warham met his eyes steadily."I must protect my sister's child, George," she said.At last she had found what she felt was a just reason for keeping Sam away from Susan, so her tone was honest and strong.
Warham lowered his gaze.He understood."Oh--as you think best, Fan; I didn't mean to interfere," said he awkwardly.He turned on Susan with his affection in his eyes."Well, Brownie, it looks like chess with your old uncle, doesn't it?"Susan's bosom was swelling, her lip trembling."I--I----" she began.She choked back the sobs, faltered out: "I don't think Icould, Uncle," and rushed from the room.
There was an uncomfortable pause.Then Warham said, "I must say, Fan, I think--if you had to do it--you might have spared the girl's feelings."Mrs.Warham felt miserable about it also."Susie took me by surprise," she apologized.Then, defiantly, "And what else can I do? You know he doesn't come for any good."Warham stared in amazement."Now, what does _that_ mean?" he demanded.
"You know very well what it means," retorted his wife.
Her tone made him understand.He reddened, and with too blustering anger brought his fist down on the table.
"Susan's our daughter.She's Ruth's sister."Ruth pushed back her chair and stood up.Her expression made her look much older than she was."I wish you could induce the rest of the town to think that, papa," said she."It'd make my position less painful." And she, too, left the room.
"What's she talking about?" asked Warham.
