Ailsa Paige Part 24

"Why? Because I like you!" she explained with a gay little laugh. "And whoever I like Mr. Berkley must like if he and I are to remain good friends."

The Colonel's smile was wintry; the sudden animation in his face had subsided.

"I should like to know him-if he will," he said absently. And took his leave of Ailsa Paige.

Next afternoon he came again, and lingered, though neither he nor Ailsa spoke of Berkley. And the next afternoon he reappeared, and sat silent, preoccupied, for a long time, in the peculiar hushed att.i.tude of a man who listens. But the door-bell did not ring and the only sound in tile house was from Ailsa's piano, where she sat idling through the sunny afternoon.

The next afternoon he said:

"Does he never call on you?"

"Who?"

"Mr. Berkley."

"I-asked him," she replied, flus.h.i.+ng faintly.

"He has not come, then?"

"Not yet. I suppose-business--"

The Colonel said, ponderously careless: "I imagine that he is likely to come in the late afternoon-when he does come."

"I don't know. He is in business."

"It doesn't keep him after three o'clock at his office."

She looked up surprised: "Doesn't it?" And her eyes asked instinctively: "How did you know?" But the Colonel sat silent again, his head lowered and partly averted as though to turn his good ear toward her. Clearly his mind already dwelt on other matters, she was thinking; but she was mistaken.

"When he comes," said Colonel Arran slowly, "will you have the kindness to say to him that Colonel Arran will be glad to renew the acquaintance?"

"Yes... . Perhaps he has forgotten the street and number. I might write to him-to remind him?" Colonel Arran made no answer.

She wrote that night:

"DEAR MR. BERKLEY:

"I am in my own house now and am very contented-which does not mean that I did not adore being with Celia Craig and Estcourt and the children.

"But home is pleasant, and I am wondering whether you might care to see the home of which I have so often spoken to you when you used to come over to Brooklyn to see me [me erased and us neatly subst.i.tuted in long, sweeping characters].

"I have been doing very little since I last saw you-it is not sheer idleness, but somehow one cannot go light-heartedly to dinners and concerts and theatres in times like these, when traitors are trampling the nag under foot, and when thousands and thousands of young men are leaving the city every day to go to the defence of our distracted country.

"I saw a friend the other day-a Mrs. Wells-and three of her boys, friends of mine, have gone with the 7th, and she is so nervous and excited that she can scarcely speak about it. So many men I know have gone or are going. Stephen was here yesterday, wild to go with the 8d Zouaves, but I promised his father to use my influence-and he is too young-although it is very fine and chivalrous of him to wish to go.

"I thought I would write you a little note, to remind you that I am at home, and already it has become a letter. Please remember-when you think of it at all-that it would give me pleasure to receive you.

"Sincerely yours,

"AILSA PAIGE."

Toward the end of the week she received a heart-broken note from Celia Craig, which caused her to hasten over to Brooklyn. She arrived late; the streets were continually blocked by departing troops, and the omnibus took a circuitous course to the ferry, going by way of Fourth Avenue and the Bowery.

"Honey-bee! O Honey-bell!" whispered her sister-in-law, taking Ailsa into her arms, "I could have behaved myse'f better if Curt were on the side of G.o.d and Justice!-But to have to let him go this way-to know the awful danger-to know he is going against my own people, my own home-against G.o.d and the Right!-O Honey-bird! Honey-bud! And the Charleston Mercury says that the South is most bitter against the Zouaves--"

"Curt! With the Zouaves!"

"Oh yes, yes, Honey-bee! The Third Regiment. And he-some wicked old men came here yesterday and read a speech-right befo' me-here in this ve'y room-and began to say that they wished him to be colonel of the 3d Zouaves, and that the Governor wished it and-other fools! And I rose straight up f'om my chair and I said, 'Curt!' And he gave me one look. Oh, Honey-bud! His face was changed; there was that same thing in it that I saw the night the news came about Sumter! And he said: 'Gentlemen, my country educated me; now it honours me.' And I tried to speak again and my lips were stiff; and then he said: 'I accept the command you offer--'"

"Oh, Celia!"

"Yes, he said it, darling! I stood there, frozen-in a corner of my heart I had been afraid-such a long time!-but to have it come real-'this terror!-to have this thing take my husband-come into our own home befo' I knew-befo' I dreamed-and take Curt!-take -my-Curt!"

"Where is he?"

"With-them. They have a camp near Fort Hamilton. He went there this morning."

"When is he coming back?"

"I don't know. Stephen is scaring me most to death; he is wild to go, too. And, oh-do you believe it? Captain Lent has gone with Curt to the camp, and Curt means to recommend him for his major. What a regiment!-all the soldiers are mere boys, they say-wilful, reckless, hair-brained boys who don't know-can't know-where they're going... . And Curt is so blind without his gla.s.ses, and Captain Lent is certainly a little mad, and I'm most distracted myse'f--"

"Darling-darling-don't cry!"

"Cry? Oh, I could die, Ailsa. Yet, I'm Southern enough to choke back eve'y tear and let them go with a smile if they had to go fo' G.o.d and the Right! But to see my Curt go this way-and my only son crazy to join him-Oh, it is ha'd, Honey-bee, ve'y, ve'y ha'd."

"Dearest!"

"O Honey-bud! Honey-bud!"

And the two women mourned, uncomforted.

Ailsa remained for three unhappy days in Fort Greene Place, then fled to her own house. A light, amusing letter from Berkley awaited her. It was so like him, gay, cynical, epigrammatic, and inconsequent, that it cheered her. Besides, he subscribed himself very obediently hers, but on re-examining the letter she noticed that he had made no mention of coming to pay his respects to her.

So she lived her tranquil life for another week; and Colonel Arran came every day and seemed always to be waiting for something-always listening-gray face buried in his stock. And at the week's end she answered Berkley's letter-although, in it, he had asked no question.

"DEAR MR. BERKLEY:

"Such sad news from the Craigs. Estcourt has accepted the command of one of the new zouave regiments-the 3d, in camp near Fort Hamilton. But, being in his office, I suppose you have heard all about it from Stephen. Poor Celia Craig! It is peculiarly distressing in her case; all her sympathies are with her native state, and to have her husband go under such unusually tragic circ.u.mstances seems too dreadful. Celia is convinced that he will never return; she reads some Southern paper which breathes awful threats against the Zouaves in particular. Besides, Stephen is perfectly determined to enlist in his father's regiment, and I can see that they can't restrain him much longer. I have done my best; I have had him here and talked to him and argued with him, but I have made no headway. No appeal moves him; he says that the land will need every man sooner or later, and that the quicker he begins the sooner he will learn how to look out for himself in battle.

"The regiment is almost full; to-day, the first six companies are to be mustered into the United States service for three years or for the war. Captain Barris of the regular army is the mustering officer. And on their departure I am to present a set of colours to the regiment. It is to be quite solemn. I have already bought the lances, and they are beautiful; the spears are silver gilt, the rings gilded, too, and the flags are made of the most beautiful silk with ta.s.sels and fringe of gold bullion. There are three flags: the national colours, the state flag, and a purple regimental flag lettered in gold: '3d Regt. N. Y. Zouaves,' and under it their motto: 'Multorum manibus grande levatur onus.' I hope it is good Latin, for it is mine. Is it?

"AILSA PAIGE."

To this letter he made no reply, and, after a week, his silence hurt her.

One afternoon toward the middle of May Stephen was announced; and with a sudden sense of foreboding she hastened down to the drawing-room.

"Oh!" she cried. "You-Stephen!"