Ann Arbor Tales Part 27

MINNIE [_encouragingly_]. Yes?

HERBERT. You're not! You're a--oh, don't you understand? I can't keep from telling you any longer, really--I tried to in the carriage, but the road was so b.u.mpy, I---- It seems as though I must make you understand.

Please try to--I---- Don't you see! I care for you very, very much and--I wrote my people all about it and--oh, don't you see, Miss---- I mean Minnie---- I want to ask---- Will you----

MINNIE [_they are very close. She looks up at him feelingly_]. Herbert!

[_The moon, aghast, dazed, thrown into a veritable spasm of lunar consternation, darts behind a cloud. But these two do not notice. The moon is forgotten--all is forgotten--the stars, the earth, the hour--even botany! Their heads are near together; thus they remain a long time, without speaking. The katydid has ceased again her dismal song, and long since the cat slunk away behind the grape-trellis to seek new fields. The intense stillness of the hour absorbs them and makes them a part of itself. After a myriad aeons a bird, somewhere, pipes a warning note, which is taken up by another bird. The couple on the further porch stir. Her head has been resting against his shoulder and for a little time she has slept. In one hand he holds a bit of angel's food, left over from the luncheon, which he from time to time has nibbled indifferently._]

JAMIE [_flinging the cake away and stretching_]. Gee whiz!

HILDA [_starting, sleepily_]. Wha--what is it?

JAMIE [_grumblingly_]. Aw, nothin', I just wish they'd come, that's all.

HILDA [_plaintively_]. Aren't you happy, dear?

JAMIE [_yawning_]. Oh, I'm happy enough, I suppose, but this porch isn't exactly downy; I feel as though I'd been sitting here a month.

HILDA [_sighing_]. Well I can't see where they are, either--for the life of me.

JAMIE [_bitterly_]. The darned fools!

HILDA [_with horror_]. Jamie!

JAMIE. Well, aren't they?

HILDA [_with some show of spirit_]. No, they're not; and if you're so sick of sitting here, why don't you go home; I can wait. I'm not afraid.

JAMIE [_yawning again_]. Don't be silly.

HILDA. It seems to me you're the silly one; just as though you couldn't----

JAMIE [_impatiently_]. Well, if you think it's fun sitting here all night waiting for two soft heads that don't know enough to ache when they're in pain, you're _mistaken_; that's all.

HILDA [_moving away from him_]. I should think you'd be ashamed!

JAMIE [_with rising impatience_]. That's right; now get _mad_!

HILDA. I'm not mad; so there! But--I---- [_She begins to sniffle suspiciously. For some time neither speaks. The moon has waned and a strange, new light, of a sickly cast, is rising in the eastern sky. A restless bird in a tree near by pipes one nervous note; then all is silence again._]

JAMIE [_stretching and again yawning_]. What are you crying about?

HILDA [_swallowing two or three times, chokingly_]. I--I--I'm not crying----

JAMIE [_indifferently and quite as though he felt he must say something_]. You are, too; what about?

HILDA. Nothing.

JAMIE. [_He mutters._]

HILDA. What did you say?

JAMIE [_doggedly_]. I didn't say anything.

HILDA [_coming a little closer_]. You did, too, and I want to know what it was.

JAMIE [_impatiently_]. I didn't say anything, I tell you!

HILDA [_choking up again_]. That's right; now be ugly; just as though it were my fault; when you yourself suggested that we sit here.

JAMIE. I didn't think it would be for all night!

HILDA [_sticking to the point_]. Well you did suggest it, didn't you?

JAMIE [_jerking his head_]. Oh, I suppose so! [_He sits with his elbows on his knees, his chin in his hands, and gazes at the rising light._]

HILDA. I'm just as tired as you are.

JAMIE [_sneeringly_]. Yes, I've no doubt!

HILDA [_hopelessly_]. Oh, Jamie!

JAMIE [_with a fiendishly sarcastic grin that she doesn't see between her fingers_]. And you're catching cold, too.

HILDA [_recovering_]. Why, I'm not either; what makes you say that?

JAMIE [_with withering sarcasm_]. Oh, aren't you? I thought you were--by the sniffles!

HILDA [_with some return of her former spirit_]. You're a mean, horrid, old thing, just as mean and horrid as you can be; and I'll never speak to you again as long as I live!

JAMIE [_significantly_]. Oh, I guess you will.

HILDA. Well, I won't.

JAMIE [_gleefully_]. There, didn't I tell you you would?

HILDA. Well, I won't again.

JAMIE. Oh, you won't, eh?

HILDA. [_No answer._]

JAMIE. So that's it, is it?

HILDA. [_Still no answer._]

JAMIE [_shrugging his shoulders_]. Oh, very well; just as you like!

[_How fortunate for the sympathetic man in the moon that he's not here to see. Now, the eastern sky shows a tinge of pale gray, shading into light violet. Here and there a bird lifts its voice; the notes are taken up and pa.s.sed along as sentries pa.s.s the call for the corporal of the guard. From afar comes the jangle of metal, and the bell of an early milkman clangs. A sleepy girl issues from the back door of the two-story house across the street. A canvas-covered wagon drawn by two horses lumbers past._]

HILDA [_rising and indicating the basket with dignity_]. Hug!