Winsome Winnie and other New Nonsense Novels Page 3

  Father got up and took John by the hand and shook it warmly.

  "Take her, boy," he said. "She's all yours now, take her."

  So John and I were engaged, and in due time our wedding day came and wewere married. I remember that for days and days before the wedding dayJohn seemed very nervous and depressed; I think he was worrying, poorboy, as to whether he could really make me happy and whether he couldfill my life as it should be filled. But I told him that he was not toworry, because I _meant_ to be happy, and was determined just to makethe best of everything.

  Father stayed with John a good deal before the wedding day, and on thewedding morning he went and fetched him to the church in a closedcarriage and had him there all ready when we came. It was a beautifulday in September, and the church looked just lovely. I had a beautifulgown of white organdie with _tulle_ at the throat, and I carried a greatbunch of white roses, and Father led John up the aisle after me.

  I remember that Mother cried a good deal at the wedding, and told Johnthat he had stolen her darling and that he must never misuse me or beatme. And I remember that the clergyman spoke very severely to John, andtold him he hoped he realized the responsibility he was taking and thatit was his duty to make me happy. A lot of our old friends were there,and they all spoke quite sharply to John, and all the women kissed meand said they hoped I would never regret what I had done, and I justkept up my spirits by sheer determination, and told them that I had madeup my mind to be happy and that I was going to be so.

  So presently it was all over and we were driven to the station and gotthe afternoon train for New York, and when we sat down in thecompartment among all our bandboxes and flowers, John said, "Well, thankGod, that's over." And I said, "Oh, John, an oath! on our wedding day,an oath!" John said, "I'm sorry, Minn, I didn't mean----" but I said,"Don't, John, don't make it worse. Swear at me if you must, but don'tmake it harder to bear."

  * * * * *

  We spent our honeymoon in New York. At first I had thought of goingsomewhere to the great lonely woods, where I could have walked under thegreat trees and felt the silence of nature, and where John should havebeen my Viking and captured me with his spear, and where I should behis and his alone and no other man should share me; and John had saidall right. Or else I had planned to go away somewhere to the seashore,where I could have watched the great waves dashing themselves againstthe rocks. I had told John that he should be my cave man, and shouldseize me in his arms and carry me whither he would. I felt somehow thatfor my development I wanted to get as close to nature as ever Icould--that my mind seemed to be reaching out for a great emptiness. ButI looked over all the hotel and steamship folders I could find and itseemed impossible to get good accommodation, so we came to New York. Ihad a great deal of shopping to do for our new house, so I could not bemuch with John, but I felt it was not right to neglect him, so I drovehim somewhere in a taxi each morning and called for him again in theevening. One day I took him to the Metropolitan Museum, and another dayI left him at the Zoo, and another day at the aquarium. John seemed veryhappy and quiet among the fishes.

  So presently we came back home, and I spent many busy days in fixing andarranging our new house. I had the drawing-room done in blue, and thedining-room all in dark panelled wood, and a boudoir upstairs done inpink and white enamel to match my bedroom and dressing-room. There was avery nice little room in the basement next to the coal cellar that Iturned into a "den" for John, so that when he wanted to smoke he couldgo down there and do it. John seemed to appreciate his den at once, andoften would stay down there so long that I had to call to him to comeup.

  When I look back on those days they seem very bright and happy. But itwas not very long before a change came. I began to realize that John wasneglecting me. I noticed it at first in small things. I don't know justhow long it was after our marriage that John began to read the newspaperat breakfast. At first he would only pick it up and read it in littlebits, and only on the front page. I tried not to be hurt at it, andwould go on talking just as brightly as I could, without seeming tonotice anything. But presently he went on to reading the inside part ofthe paper, and then one day he opened up the financial page and foldedthe paper right back and leant it against the sugar-bowl.

  I could not but wonder whether John's love for me was what it had been.Was it cooling? I asked myself. And what was cooling it? It hardlyseemed possible, when I looked back to the wild passion with which hehad proposed to me on the garden bench, that John's love was waning. ButI kept noticing different little things. One day in the spring-time Isaw John getting out a lot of fishing tackle from a box and fitting ittogether. I asked him what he was going to do, and he said that he wasgoing to fish. I went to my room and had a good cry. It seemed dreadfulthat he could neglect his wife for a few worthless fish.

  So I decided to put John to the test. It had been my habit every morningafter he put his coat on to go to the office to let John have one kiss,just one weeny kiss, to keep him happy all day. So this day when he wasgetting ready I bent my head over a big bowl of flowers and pretendednot to notice. I think John must have been hurt, as I heard him stealout on tiptoe.

  Well, I realized that things had come to a dreadful state, and so I sentover to Mother, and Mother came, and we had a good cry together. I madeup my mind to force myself to face things and just to be as bright asever I could. Mother and I both thought that things would be better if Itried all I could to make something out of John. I have always felt thatevery woman should make all that she can out of her husband. So I did mybest first of all to straighten up John's appearance. I shifted thestyle of collar he was wearing to a tighter kind that I liked better,and I brushed his hair straight backward instead of forward, which gavehim a much more alert look. Mother said that John needed waking up, andso we did all we could to wake him up. Mother came over to stay with mea good deal, and in the evenings we generally had a little music or agame of cards.

  About this time another difficulty began to come into my married life,which I suppose I ought to have foreseen--I mean the attentions of othergentlemen. I have always called forth a great deal of admiration ingentlemen, but I have always done my best to act like a lady and todiscourage it in every possible way. I had been innocent enough tosuppose that this would end with married life, and it gave me a dreadfulshock to realize that such was not the case. The first one I noticed wasa young man who came to the house, at an hour when John was out, for thepurpose, so he said at least, of reading the gas meter. He looked at mein just the boldest way and asked me to show him the way to the cellar.I don't know whether it was a pretext or not, but I just summoned allthe courage I had and showed him to the head of the cellar stairs. I haddetermined that if he tried to carry me down with him I would scream forthe servants, but I suppose something in my manner made him desist, andhe went alone. When he came up he professed to have read the meter andhe left the house quite quietly. But I thought it wiser to say nothingto John of what had happened.

  There were others too. There was a young man with large brown eyes whocame and said he had been sent to tune the piano. He came on threeseparate days, and he bent his ear over the keys in such a mournful waythat I knew he must have fallen in love with me. On the last day heoffered to tune my harp for a dollar extra, but I refused, and when Iasked him instead to tune Mother's mandoline he said he didn't know how.Of course I told John nothing of all this.

  Then there was Mr. McQueen, who came to the house several times to playcribbage with John. He had been desperately in love with me yearsbefore--at least I remember his taking me home from a hockey match once,and what a struggle it was for him not to come into the parlour and seeMother for a few minutes when I asked him; and, though he was marriednow and with three children, I felt sure when he came to play cribbagewith John that it _meant_ something. He was very discreet andhonourable, and never betrayed himself for a moment, and I acted mypart as if there was nothing at all behind. But one night, when he cameover to play and John h
ad had to go out, he refused to stay even for aninstant. He had got his overshoes off before I told him that John wasout, and asked him if he wouldn't come into the parlour and hear Motherplay the mandoline, but he just made one dive for his overshoes and wasgone. I knew that he didn't dare to trust himself.

  Then presently a new trouble came. I began to suspect that John wasdrinking. I don't mean for a moment that he was drunk, or that he wasopenly cruel to me. But at times he seemed to act so queerly, and Inoticed that one night when by accident I left a bottle of raspberryvinegar on the sideboard overnight, it was all gone in the morning. Twoor three times when McQueen and John were to play cribbage, John wouldfetch home two or three bottles of bevo with him and they would sitsipping all evening.

  I think he was drinking bevo by himself, too, though I could never besure of it. At any rate he often seemed queer and restless in theevenings, and instead of staying in his den he would wander all over thehouse. Once we heard him--I mean Mother and I and two lady friends whowere with us that evening--quite late (after ten o'clock) apparentlymoving about in the pantry. "John," I called, "is that you?" "Yes,Minn," he answered, quietly enough, I admit. "What are you doing there?"I asked. "Looking for something to eat," he said. "John," I said, "youare forgetting what is due to me as your wife. You were fed at six. Goback."

  He went. But yet I felt more and more that his love must be dwindling tomake him act as he did. I thought it all over wearily enough and askedmyself whether I had done everything I should to hold my husband's love.I had kept him in at nights. I had cut down his smoking. I had stoppedhis playing cards. What more was there that I could do?

  * * * * *

  So at last the conviction came to me that I must go away. I felt that Imust get away somewhere and think things out. At first I thought of PalmBeach, but the season had not opened and I felt somehow that I couldn'twait. I wanted to get away somewhere by myself and just face things asthey were. So one morning I said to John, "John, I think I'd like to gooff somewhere for a little time, just to be by myself, dear, and I don'twant you to ask to come with me or to follow me, but just let me go."John said, "All right, Minn. When are you going to start?" The coldbrutality of it cut me to the heart, and I went upstairs and had a goodcry and looked over steamship and railroad folders. I thought of Havanafor a while, because the pictures of the harbour and the castle and thequeer Spanish streets looked so attractive, but then I was afraid thatat Havana a woman alone by herself might be simply persecuted byattentions from gentlemen. They say the Spanish temperament is somethingfearful. So I decided on Bermuda instead. I felt that in a beautiful,quiet place like Bermuda I could think everything all over and facethings, and it said on the folder that there were always at least twoEnglish regiments in garrison there, and the English officers, whatevertheir faults, always treat a woman with the deepest respect.

  So I said nothing more to John, but in the next few days I got all myarrangements made and my things packed. And when the last afternoon cameI sat down and wrote John a long letter, to leave on my boudoir table,telling him that I had gone to Bermuda. I told him that I wanted to bealone: I said that I couldn't tell when I would be back--that it mightbe months, or it might be years, and I hoped that he would try to be ashappy as he could and forget me entirely, and to send me money on thefirst of every month.

  * * * * *

  Well, it was just at that moment that one of those strange coincidenceshappen, little things in themselves, but which seem to alter the wholecourse of a person's life. I had nearly finished the letter to John thatI was to leave on the writing-desk, when just then the maid came up tomy room with a telegram. It was for John, but I thought it my duty toopen it and read it for him before I left. And I nearly fainted when Isaw that it was from a lawyer in Bermuda--of all places--and it saidthat a legacy of two hundred thousand dollars had been left to John byan uncle of his who had died there, and asking for instructions aboutthe disposition of it.

  A great wave seemed to sweep over me, and all the wicked thoughts thathad been in my mind--for I saw now that they _were_ wicked--were drivenclean away. I thought how completely lost poor old John would feel ifall this money came to him and he didn't have to work any more and hadno one at his side to help and guide him in using it.

  I tore up the wicked letter I had written, and I hurried as fast as Icould to pack up a valise with John's things (my own were packedalready, as I said). Then presently John came in, and I broke the newsto him as gently and as tenderly as I could about his uncle having lefthim the money and having died. I told him that I had found out allabout the trains and the Bermuda steamer, and had everything all packedand ready for us to leave at once. John seemed a little dazed about itall, and kept saying that his uncle had taught him to play tennis whenhe was a little boy, and he was very grateful and thankful to me forhaving everything arranged, and thought it wonderful.

  I had time to telephone to a few of my women friends, and they justmanaged to rush round for a few minutes to say good-bye. I couldn't helpcrying a little when I told them about John's uncle dying so far awaywith none of us near him, and I told them about the legacy, and theycried a little to hear of it all; and when I told them that John and Imight not come back direct from Bermuda, but might take a run over toEurope first, they all cried some more.

  We left for New York that evening, and after we had been to Bermuda andarranged about a suitable monument for John's uncle and collected themoney, we sailed for Europe.

  All through the happy time that has followed, I like to think thatthrough all our trials and difficulties affliction brought us safelytogether at last.

  III

  THE SPLIT IN THE CABINET

  OR, THE FATE OF ENGLAND

  (_A political novel of the Days that Were_)

  _III.--The Split in the Cabinet; or, The Fate of England._

  CHAPTER I

  "The fate of England hangs upon it," murmured Sir John Elphinspoon, ashe sank wearily into an armchair. For a moment, as he said "England,"the baronet's eye glistened and his ears lifted as if in defiance, butas soon as he stopped saying it his eye lost its brilliance and his earsdropped wearily at the sides of his head.

  Lady Elphinspoon looked at her husband anxiously. She could not concealfrom herself that his face, as he sank into his chair, seemed somehowten years older than it had been ten years ago.

  "You are home early, John?" she queried.

  "The House rose early, my dear," said the baronet.

  "For the All England Ping-Pong match?"

  "No, for the Dog Show. The Prime Minister felt that the Cabinet ought toattend. He said that their presence there would help to bind thecolonies to us. I understand also that he has a pup in the show himself.He took the Cabinet with him."

  "And why not you?" asked Lady Elphinspoon.

  "You forget, my dear," said the baronet, "as Foreign Secretary mypresence at a Dog Show might be offensive to the Shah of Persia. Had itbeen a Cat Show----"

  The baronet paused and shook his head in deep gloom.

  "John," said his wife, "I feel that there is something more. Didanything happen at the House?"

  Sir John nodded.

  "A bad business," he said. "The Wazuchistan Boundary Bill was read thisafternoon for the third time."

  No woman in England, so it was generally said, had a keener politicalinsight than Lady Elphinspoon.

  "The third time," she repeated thoughtfully, "and how many more will ithave to go?"

  Sir John turned his head aside and groaned.

  "You are faint," exclaimed Lady Elphinspoon, "let me ring for tea."

  The baronet shook his head.

  "An egg, John--let me beat you up an egg."

  "Yes, yes," murmured Sir John, still abstracted, "beat it, yes, do beatit."

  Lady Elphinspoon, in spite of her elevated position as the wife of theForeign Secretary of Great Britain, held it not beneath her to performfor her husband the plainest house
hold service. She rang for an egg. Thebutler broke it for her into a tall goblet filled with old sherry, andthe noble lady, with her own hands, beat the stuff out of it. For theveteran politician, whose official duties rarely allowed him to eat, anegg was a sovereign remedy. Taken either in a goblet of sherry or in amug of rum, or in half a pint of whisky, it never failed to revive hisenergies.

  The effect of the egg was at once visible in the brightening of his eyeand the lengthening of his ears.

  "And now explain to me," said his wife, "what has happened. What _is_this Boundary Bill?"

  "We never meant it to pass," said Sir John. "It was introduced only as asop to public opinion. It delimits our frontier in such a way as toextend our suzerainty over the entire desert of El Skrub. The Wazooshave claimed that this is their desert. The hill tribes are restless. Ifwe attempt to advance the Wazoos will rise. If we retire it deals a blowat our prestige."