Carnival Part 44

"Shame!"

"So it is."

"Aren't Maurice and Maudie making a terrible noise?"

"They're certainly laughing loud enough," Fuz agreed. "But Maurice is always in spirits. I don't think he knows the meaning of depression."

"Doesn't he then!" Jenny exclaimed. "I think he gets _very_ depressed sometimes!"

"Not deeply. It's never more than a pa.s.sing mood."

"That's quite right. It is a mood. But he works himself up into a state over his moods."

"Tell me, dear Jane," said Castleton suddenly. "No, on second thoughts, I won't ask."

"Oh, do tell me."

"No, it's not my business. Besides, you'd be annoyed, and I've no wish to make our Jenny angry."

"I won't be angry. Do tell me, Fuz, what you was going to ask."

"Well, I will," he said, after a pause. "Jenny, are you very fond of Maurice?"

"Oh, I love him."

"Really love him?"

"Of course."

"But you'd soon get over it if----"

"If what?"

"If Maurice was--was a disappointment--for instance, if he married somebody else quite suddenly? Don't look so frightened; he's not going to, as far as I know; or likely to, but if ... would it upset your life?"

Jenny burst into tears.

"My dearest Jane," Castleton cried, "I was only chaffing. Please don't cry. Jenny, Jenny, I'm only an inquisitive, speculative jackanapes.

Maurice isn't going to do anything of the kind. Really. Besides, I thought--oh, Jane--I'm terribly ashamed of myself."

"Maurice said I shouldn't like you," Jenny sobbed. "And I don't. I hate you. Don't stay with me. Go out of the box. I'm going home. Where's Maurice? I want Maurice to come to me."

"He's dancing," said Castleton helplessly. "Jane, I'm an absolute beast.

Jane, will you marry me and show your forgiving nature?"

"Don't go on teasing me," sobbed Jenny, louder than ever. "You're hateful. I hate you."

"No, but I mean it. Will you, Jenny? Really, I'm not joking. I'd marry you to-morrow."

Jenny's tears gradually turned to laughter, and at last she had to say:

"Oh, Fuz, you're hateful, but you are funny."

"It's a most extraordinary thing," he replied, "that the only person I don't want to laugh at me must do it. Jane!" He held out his hand.

"Jane, are we pals again?"

"I suppose we've got to be," Jenny pouted.

"Good pals and jolly companions?"

"Oh, whoever was it said that to me once?" cried Jenny. "Years and years ago. Oh, whoever was it?"

"Years and years?" echoed Castleton, quizzing. "Who are you, ancient woman?"

"_Don't_ be silly. It was. Someone said it when I was a little girl. Oh, Fuz, I'd go raving mad to remember who it was."

"Well, anyway, I've said it now. And is it a bargain?"

"What?"

"You and I being pals?"

"Of course."

"Which means that when I'm in trouble, I go to Jane for advice, and when Jane's in trouble, she comes to Fuz. Shake hands on that."

Jenny, feeling very shy of him for the first time during their acquaintances.h.i.+p, let him take her hand.

"And the tears are a secret?" he asked.

"Not if Maurice asks me. I'd have to tell him."

"Would you? All right, if he asks, tell him."

Maurice, however, did not ask, being full of arrangements for supper and in a quandary of taste between Pol Roger and Perrier Jouet.

"What about Perrier without Jouet?" Castleton suggested. "It would save money."

Supper (and in the end Maurice chose Pommery) was very jolly; but nothing for the lovers during the rest of the evening reached the height of those first waltzes together. After supper Fuz and Jenny danced a cake-walk, and Ronnie tried to hum a favorite tune to Cunningham in order that he could explain to the conductor what Ronnie wanted. Nothing came of it, however, as the latter never succeeded in disentangling it from two other tunes. So, with laughter and dancing, they kept the night merry to the last echo of music, and when at about half-past six they all stood in the vestibule waiting for the salmon-colored taxis to drive them home, all agreed that Maurice had done well.

"And I've not done yet," he said. "I suppose you all think you're going home to tumble sleepily into bed. Oh, no, we're going to have breakfast first at the old Sloop, Greenwich."

"Greenwich?" they repeated in chorus.

"I've ordered a thumping breakfast. The drive will do us good. We can see the dawn break over the river."

"And put our watches right," added Castleton.

"Then you girls can be driven home (your bags are all inside the taxis) and sleep all the rest of the morning and afternoon."