The Open Question Part 55

"But why--why not?" exclaimed Ethan.

"You have only to look about," she said, gravely. "That is a beautiful and costly toy, my dear. Keep it for your wife."

"Let's go and give Jerusha _her_ necklace," suggested Emmie, by way of carrying off a trying situation.

"Ah yes," said Mrs. Gano, with an air of relief; "I'm glad you've remembered Jerusha," and she gave the silver collar praise unstinted.

CHAPTER XIX

The next afternoon Mrs. Gano and her son took Ethan out driving in state. Val and Emmie watched them off with eyes of envy. Ethan looked back at the young people with something of the same expression. The hack was old and fusty, and was drawn by a single sorrowful beast, but there was an air of ceremony about the whole proceeding not lost on Ethan. His uncle pointed out the sights, and, in the intervals of bouts of coughing, discussed town and national politics. Mrs. Gano, in excellent spirits, planned a series of drives to points of interest, in every direction, as long as the fine weather should last. Ethan began to quail inwardly at the prospect, and yet these odd relations interested him infinitely more than he had expected. And as soon as that cough of his uncle's became intolerable he would have urgent business in Boston.

Meanwhile, apropos of these drives, he realized that he would never dare to offer to pay for the carriage hire. He turned the problem over in his mind, and after they came home he went out and had a conversation with the liveryman. A telegram was despatched to a Columbus carriage manufactory, and an appointment made with the liveryman to go next day to a neighboring farm and inspect some horseflesh.

Before the week was out, a brougham and a well-conditioned pair of grays stood daily before the Fort, when the weather was clement. Mrs. Gano, less enthusiastic over this new arrival than any one else, nevertheless drove about day after day in the lovely mild weather, with the top off "Ethan's newfangled coach," and a look of extreme satisfaction upon her face. But her son decided that, mild as was the autumn air, it came to him in too great draughts behind the flying grays. After that first august apparition of the three elder Ganos in Ethan's equipage, John Gano declined to sustain his part in the daily triumphal progress through the streets of the appreciative town. Naturally, in a place of that size, Mrs. Gano's millionaire grandson was the talk of the hour, and Val and Emmie sunned themselves in his reflected glory. Such is the callousness of youth, that it was a moment of scarcely clouded rapture to the younger generation when John Gano decided to stay at home and prune the dogwoods.

Val and Emmie accepted the proffered places on the front seat with an excitement not to be conveyed to those souls deadened by the luxury of "keeping a carriage" all their lives.

Ethan had tried to insist that one of his cousins should sit by Mrs.

Gano.

"Nonsense!" said that lady; "children always sit in front."

Aunt Jerusha and Venus peeped discreetly round the corner of the house, as usual, to see them start.

"My! Miss Emmie's growin' beautifler and beautifler," Venus had said, as the younger girl smiled and blushed her soft "Thank you, cousin Ethan,"

for his helping hand.

Val, who had already hopped in, turned and waved excitedly to the servants.

"My _dear!_" remonstrated her grandmother, while old Jerusha nodded her bright turban and whispered: "Yah! Miss Emmie's awful handsome, but she ain't wavin'; dose chillens tickled to death. Why, Miss Val's face is like a lamp."

As the grays leaped forward, and the two young hearts leaped responsive, Emmie had a flas.h.i.+ng realization of what Elijah felt like, going to heaven in his chariot of fire.

To Val the rapturous excitement of the thing was just another proof of the infinite possibilities life afforded for being ecstatically happy.

She would not have admitted there was even a heavenly comparison wherewith to match this blissful flying along with cousin Ethan opposite, he talking mostly to grandmamma, of course, but sometimes meeting his cousin's eyes, and smiling in a way that made the breath catch in the breast.

Julia was coming out of her gate that very first day that the four drove by. Val sat up very straight, and made her a sign, subsiding quickly upon a look from Mrs. Gano. But Ethan turned round and looked back.

"What a pretty girl! Who is she?"

"My best friend," said Val. "You know, I've shown you her house."

"Ah yes--Julia--"

"Otway. Such lovely people, all the Otways."

"A most estimable family," admitted Mrs. Gano; "rather free-and-easy in their ways. As Emmie said when she was five or six, 'They's the kind of people that sits on beds.'"

Emmie smiled a pleased smile at this recollection of infant perspicacity.

"That was when the Otway children were too little to know any better,"

Val said. "You wait, cousin Ethan, till you know Julia. You just ought to hear her play the piano! She's coming to supper to-morrow, and, oh!

she wants to know if you like tennis."

"Yes. Has she got a court?"

"A splendid one. Haven't you noticed? Just behind the osage-trees."

"Oh, we'll go and play some morning."

"There! you see, grandma, he _doesn't_ think he's too old or too busy to play games. But I can't go in the mornings. I have lessons with grandma, you know, till one o'clock, and Julia's at school till half-past two, except on Sat.u.r.days."

"So am I," said Emmie, sadly. "I wish I were going East, and needn't begin a term that I couldn't finish."

Val was conscious of something like a qualm at not having thought about the East, or even the opera, for days. But wait! she would find an opportunity of taking cousin Ethan into her confidence. Then the great scheme would resume its former gigantic proportions. Hitherto, whenever she had been alone with her cousin, she had been seized with a strange shyness, an excitement that put everything else out of her head except that here was she, and here was he. It was very queer and very disconcerting, but it was a heavenly feeling, all the same.

"Here's Miss Tibbs coming," said Emmie, wis.h.i.+ng to acquaint their guest with all the leading characteristics of the place. "She's quite the most hideous--ahem!--well, she's a very plain lady. And _oh! do_ you see that man going into the red-brick house?"

"That's Jimmie Battle," said Mrs. Gano.

"Yes. Val, show us how he talks when he tries to be English, and then forgets."

"Oh yes," said Val, nothing loath. "He was telling something funny that happened: 'I laahfed and I laahfed, and, oh _golly!_ how I laffed!'"

"Val, I'm amazed at your language!"

"It's Jimmie's language--of course, we're all amazed."

"Look, Val, there goes Harry Wilbur," said Emmie.

Yes, it was Harry, pretending not to see them. Val had not answered his last letters, and since he had not called all these days, he must be "mad."

"Who is Harry Wilbur?" Ethan asked, perceiving the interest taken in this citizen.

"Son of our old friend, Judge Wilbur," said Mrs. Gano.

"We _used_ to say he was the handsomest man in New Plymouth," said Emmie, looking reflectively at Ethan.

"And he's the best bat in the West," added Val, loyally; but, oh! how insignificant blond men were in comparison with--

They pa.s.sed Miss Appleby taking a _posse_ of her young lady boarders out for a walk.

"They all know _you_, cousin Ethan, and they're just _dying_ to turn and look back. We talked about you all recess."

"Did you?" he laughed.