Skippy Bedelle Part 51

"Gee, you'll be a knockout there!"

They ate more chocolates, while Skippy debated how to lead the conversation into the softer strain before bestowing on the object of his affections (for value exchanged, of course) the sacred emblem of the Philomathean Debating Society and bringing forth the Lawrenceville banner which was tightly folded up in his bulging hip pocket.

"I suppose you'll go back now to Dolly Travers," said Vivi, whose appet.i.te for verbal expressions of sentiment was still far from being satisfied. "And forget all about--about this wonderful week."

"Women are fickler than men," said Skippy gloomily.

"Not--not always."

"Don't believe it."

"Out of sight out of mind."

"You know better than that," said Skippy, digging into his change pocket for the pin.

"How do I know?" said Vivi encouragingly.

"Because--" Suddenly Skippy remembered. His fingers relaxed on the pin.

He brought forth his hand. "Say, you promised to read my hand you know."

"Did I?"

"Sure you did."

Miss Vivi sat up and carefully pillowed the squat calloused hand in her soft one. For a moment she studied it, turning it over and back again, running her finger meditatively over the mounds and depressions.

"Well?" said Skippy anxiously.

"Shall I tell all?"

"Everything."

"You have a very strong will--very obstinate and not easily influenced.

Ambition will be your G.o.d and you will sacrifice--" Vivi hesitated.

"I say, go on."

"So far is true, isn't it?"

"Well, pretty true," said Skippy, who began to enjoy his portrait.

"You will sacrifice everything to your ambition--friends, family, the woman who loves you."

"Oh, I say!"

"It's here in your hand," said Vivi, shocked at the discovery. "Women will play very little part in your life. It's not that you haven't a lot to give, you have. See this b.u.mp, that's affection. It's very developed."

"That's where I threw my thumb out of joint," said Skippy doubtfully.

"But you've had a terrible experience in your life that has shaken your faith and you are afraid to trust again." Skippy looked the picture of gloom at this and thought bitterly on Mimi Lafontaine after hesitating once or twice on the backward journey. "This has made you cynical and cold, ready to impute the lowest motives. Women will love you--many women, but you will give your heart only once more--and that--_that_ will be a tragedy, on account of your own lack of faith."

"Say, is all that there?" said Skippy, beginning to be alarmed.

"That and more," said Vivi, warming up. "You are very loyal, not at all conceited, brilliant intellectual qualities and you will make a success--" Here Vivi paused and turned his hand over, studying it carefully. "I see railroads and banking in your hand."

"Do you think so?" said Skippy unconvinced.

"There it is. You will make loads and loads of money."

"I say, do I get married?"

"That is not quite clear," said Vivi frowning. "This looks like it--but again this line--the cold calculating streak in your nature--"

At this moment, from down the beach, came a shrill whistle imitative of the whip-poor-will, insistent, querulous and repeated.

Vivi dropped his hand and glanced hastily at her watch.

"Good heavens, it's four o'clock!"

"All right, I'm on. Who's the little bird?" said Skippy, who had not heard himself described as the acme of suspicion for nothing.

"Jack!"

The whip-poor-will rose to shriller heights.

"It's Charlie Brownrigger," said Vivi, trying to appear embarra.s.sed, "and he's come round to say good-bye."

"Oh, indeed."

"I _had_ to let him say good-bye," said Vivi imploringly to the young sultan. "I've treated him abominably since you came. I can't be rude to a chap, can I? I'll be right back."

"How long's it going to take?" asked Skippy, drawing out his watch.

"Oh about twenty minutes," said Vivi.

"I'll wait exactly half an hour. Four-thirty to the minute. Not a second more."

"I do believe you're jealous, Jack Bedelle!" said Vivi expectantly.

"Jealousy has no part in my nature," said Skippy loftily. "Besides you can see it in my hand. Firmness, that's all!"

"Brute!" said Vivi with a killing glance.

She picked up the pink parasol and hastened down the beach. Skippy fished out the Philomathean Debating Society pin and slowly attached it to his vest. He switched to the vacated place with the back rest and began to whistle to himself. At the end of a seeming hour he glanced at his watch. Exactly seven minutes had elapsed.

"Half an hour was a mistake. Fifteen minutes is enough for a mut like Brownrigger. I should have been firmer. When a girl gets you to waiting for her--she has you going and coming. Firmer, I should have been much firmer!"

He slipped off his shoes to empty them of sand, and in doing so filled the gayly coloured work-bag that was Vivi's. His toilette finished, he took up the bag to clean it in turn. At the first touch as fate had decreed a book tumbled out and lay with opened pages before him. It looked most suspiciously like a diary. He averted his eyes and then his glance came slowly back to it.