the portygee-第38节

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later；　and　with　Miss　Fosdick's　assistance；　to　be　strung　into　a
glittering　necklace　of　lyric　song　and　draped；　with　the　stringer's
compliments；　about　the　throat　of　a　grateful　muse。　　But　no　gems　were
strung　that　day。　　Madeline　did　not　put　in　an　appearance；　and　by　and
by　it　began　to　rain；　and　Albert　walked　home；　damp；　dejected；　and
disgusted。　　When；　a　day　or　two　later；　he　met　Miss　Fosdick　at　the
post　office　and　asked　why　she　had　not　come　he　learned　that　her
mother　had　insisted　upon　a　motor　trip　to　Wapatomac　that　afternoon。

〃Besides；〃　she　said；　〃you　surely　mustn't　expect　me　EVERY　Saturday。〃

〃No；〃　he　admitted　grudgingly；　〃I　suppose　not。　　But　you　will　come
sometimes；　won't　you？　　I　have　a　perfectly　lovely　idea　for　a　ballad
and　I　want　to　ask　your　advice　about　it。〃

〃Oh；　do　you　really？　　You're　not　making　fun？　　You　mean　that　my
advice　is　really　worth　something？　　I　can't　believe　it。〃

He　convinced　her　that　it　was；　and　the　next　Saturday　afternoon　they
spent　together　at　the　inspiration　point　among　the　dunes；　at　work
upon　the　ballad。　　It　was　not　finished　on　that　occasion；　nor　on　the
next；　for　it　was　an　unusually　long　ballad；　but　progress　was　made；
glorious　progress。

And　so；　during　that　Summer；　as　the　Fosdick　residence　upon　the　Bay
Road　grew　and　grew；　so　did　the　acquaintanceship；　the　friendship；
the　poetic　partnership　between　the　Fosdick　daughter　and　the
grandson　of　Captain　Zelotes　Snow　grow　and　grow。　　They　met　almost
every　Saturday；　they　met　at　the　post　office　on　week　evenings；
occasionally　they　saw　each　other　for　a　moment　after　church　on
Sunday　mornings。　　Mrs。　Fletcher　Fosdick　could　not　imagine　why　her
only　child　cared　to　attend　that　stuffy　little　country　church　and
hear　that　prosy　Kendall　minister　drone　on　and　on。　　〃I　hope；　my
dear；　that　I　am　as　punctilious　in　my　religious　duties　as　the
average　woman；　but　one　Kendall　sermon　was　sufficient　for　me；　thank
you。　　What　you　see　in　THAT　church　to　please　you；　_I_　can't　guess。〃

If　she　had　attended　as　often　as　Madeline　did　she　might　have　guessed
and　saved　herself　much。　　But　she　was　busy　organizing；　in　connection
with　Mrs。　Seabury　Calvin；　a　Literary　Society　among　the　summer
people　of　South　Harniss。　　The　Society　was　to　begin　work　with　the
discussion　of　the　poetry　of　Rabindranath　Tagore。　　Mrs。　Fosdick
said　she　doted　on　Tagore；　Mrs。　Calvin　expressed　herself　as　being
positively　insane　about　him。　　A　warm　friendship　had　sprung　up
between　the　two　ladies；　as　each　was　particularly　fond　of　shining　as
a　literary　light　and　neither　under　any　circumstances　permitted　a
new　lion　to　roar　unheard　in　her　neighborhood；　provided；　of　course；
that　the　said　roarings　had　been　previously　endorsed　and　well
advertised　by　the　critics　and　the　press。

So　Mrs。　Fosdick　was　too　busy　to　accompany　Madeline　to　church　on
Sunday　or　to　walk　on　Saturday；　and　the　young　lady　was　left　to
wander　pretty　much　at　her　own　sweet　will。　　That　sweet　will　led　her
footsteps　to　trails　frequented　by　Albert　Speranza　and　they　walked
and　talked　and　poetized　together。　　As　for　Mr。　Fletcher　Fosdick；　he
was　busy　at　his　office　in　New　York　and　came　to　South　Harniss　only
for　infrequent　week…ends。

The　walks　and　talks　and　poetizings　were　innocent　enough。　　Neither
of　the　partners　in　poesy　had　the　least　idea　of　anything　more　than
being　just　that。　　They　liked　each　other；　they　had　come　to　call　each
other　by　their　Christian　names；　and　on　Albert's　bureau　Madeline's
photograph　now　stood　openly　and　without　apology。　　Albert　had
convinced　himself　there　was　nothing　to　apologize　for。　　She　was　his
friend；　that　was　all。　　He　liked　to　write　and　she　liked　to　help　him
erwell；　just　as　Helen　used　to　when　she　was　at　home。　　He　did　not
think　of　Helen　quite　as　often　as　formerly；　nor　were　his　letters　to
her　as　frequent　or　as　long。

So　the　summer　passed　and　late　August　came；　the　last　Saturday
afternoon　of　that　month。　　Albert　and　Madeline　were　together；
walking　together　along　the　beach　from　the　knoll　where　they　had　met
so　often。　　It　was　six　o'clock　and　the　beach　was　deserted。　　There
was　little　wind；　the　tiny　waves　were　lapping　and　plashing　along　the
shore；　and　the　rosy　light　of　the　sinking　sun　lay　warm　upon　the
water　and　the　sand。　　They　were　thinking　and　speaking　of　the　summer
which　was　so　near　its　end。

〃It　has　been　a　wonderful　summer；　hasn't　it？〃　said　Albert。

〃Yes；　wonderful；〃　agreed　Madeline。

〃Yes；　IIby　George；　I　never　believed　a　summer　could　be　so
wonderful。〃

〃Nor　I。〃

Silence。　　Then　Albert；　looking　at　her；　saw　her　eyes　looking　into
his　and　saw　in　them

He　kissed　her。

That　morning　Albert　Speranza　had　arisen　as　usual；　a　casual；
careless；　perfectly　human　young　fellow。　　He　went　to　bed　that　night
a　superman；　an　archangel；　a　demi…god；　with　his　head　in　the　clouds
and　the　earth　a　cloth　of　gold　beneath　his　feet。　　Life　was　a　pathway
through　Paradise　arched　with　rainbows。

He　and　Madeline　Fosdick　loved　each　other　madly；　devotedly。　　They
were　engaged　to　be　married。　　They　had　plighted　troth。　　They　were　to
be　each　other's；　and　no　one　else's；　for　everand　everand　ever。



CHAPTER　X


The　remainder　of　that　summer　was　a　paradisical　meandering　over　the
cloth　of　gold　beneath　the　rainbows。　　Albert　and　his　Madeline　met
often；　very　often。　　Few　poems　were　written　at　these　meetings。　　Why
trouble　to　put　penciled　lines　on　paper　when　the　entire　universe　was
a　poem　especially　composed　for　your　benefit？　　The　lovers　sat　upon
the　knoll　amid　the　sand　dunes　and　gazed　at　the　bay　and　talked　of
themselves　separately；　individually；　and；　more　especially；
collectively。　　They　strolled　through　the　same　woody　lanes　and
discussed　the　same　satisfactory　subjects。　　They　met　at　the　post
office　or　at　the　drug　store　and　gazed　into　each　other's　eyes。　　And；
what　was　the　most　astonishing　thing　about　it　all；　their　secret
remained　undiscovered。　　Undiscovered；　that　is　to　say；　by　those　by
whom　discovery　would　have　meant　calamity。　　The　gossips　among　the
townspeople　winked　and　chuckled　and　cal'lated　Fletcher　Fosdick　had
better　look　out　or　his　girl　would　be　took　into　the　firm　of　Z。　Snow
and　Co。　　Issachar　Price　uttered　sarcastic　and　sly　innuendoes。　　Jane
Kelsey　and　her　set　ragged　the　pair　occasionally。　　But　even　these
never　really　suspected　that　the　affair　was　serious。　　And　neither
Mrs。　Fletcher　Fosdick　nor　Captain　and　Mrs。　Zelotes　Snow　gave　it　a
minute's　attention。

It　was　serious　enough　with　the　principals；　however。　　To　them　it　was
the　only　serious　matter　in　the　world。　　Not　that　they　faced　or
discussed　the　future　with　earnest　and　complete　attention。　　Some　day
or　otherthat　was　of　course　the　mutually　accepted　ideasome　day
or　other　they　were　to　marry。　　In　the　meantime　here　was　the　blissful
present　with　its　roses　and　rainbows　and　here；　for　each；　was　the
other。　　What　would　be　likely　to　happen　when　the　Fosdick　parents
learned　of　the　engagement　of　their　only　child　to　the　assistant
bookkeeper　of　the　South　Harniss　lumber　and　hardware　company　was
unpleasant　to　contemplate；　so　why　contemplate　it？　　Upon　one　point
they　were　agreednever；　never；　NEVER　would　they　give　each　other
up。　　No　power　on　earthwhich　included　parents　and　grandparents
should　or　could　separate　them。

Albert's　conscience　troubled　him　slightly　at　first　when　he　thought
of　Helen　Kendall。　　It　had　been　in　reality　such　a　short　time
although　of　course　it　seemed　ages　and　agessince　he　had　fancied
himself　in　love　with　her。　　Only　the　previous　fallyes；　even
that　very　spring；　he　had　asked　her　to　pledge　herself　to　him。
Fortunatelyoh；　how　very　fortunately！she　had　refused；　and　he　had
been　left　free。　　Now　he　knew　that　his　fancied　love　for　her　had　been
merely　a　passing　whim；　a　delusion　of　the　moment。　　ThisTHIS　which
he　was　now　experiencing　was　the　grand　passion　of　his　life。　　He
wrote　a　poem　with　the　title；　〃The　Greater　Love〃and　sold　it；　too；
to　a　sensational　periodical　which　circulated　largely　among
sentimental　shopgirls。　　It　is　but　truthful　to　state　that　the　editor
of　the　magazine　to　which　he　first　submitted　it　sent　it　back　with
the　brief　note〃This　is　a　trifle　too　syrupy　for　our　use。　　Fear　the
pages　might　stick。　　Why　not　send　us　another　war　verse？〃　　Albert
treated　the　note　and　the　editor　with　the　contempt　they　deserved。
He　pitied　the　latter；　poor　soul；　doubtless　HE　had　never　known　the
greater　love。

He　and　Madeline　had　agreed　that　they　would　tell　no　oneno　one　at
allof　their　betrothal。　　It　should　be　their　own　precious　secret
for　the　present。　　So；　under　the　circumstances；　he　could　not　write
Helen　the　news。　　But　ought　he　to　write　her　at　all？　　That　question
bothered　him　not　a　little。　　He　no　longer　loved　herin　fact；　he　was
now　certain　that　he　never　had　loved　herbut　he　liked　her；　and　he
wanted　her　to　keep　on　liking　him。　　And　she　wrote　to　him　with
regularity。　　What　ought　he　to　do　about　writing　her？

He　debated　the　question　with　himself　and；　at　last；　and　with　some
trepidation；　asked　Madeline's　opinion　of　his　duty　in　the　matter。
Her　opinion　was　decisive　and　promptly　given。　　Of　course　he　must　not
write　Helen　again。　　〃How　would　you　like　it　if　I　corresponded　with
another　fellow？〃　she　asked。　　Candor　forced　him　to　admit　that　he
should　not　like　it　at　all。　　〃But　I　want　to　behave　decently；〃　he
said。　　〃She　is　merely　a　friend　of　mine〃oh；　how　short　is　memory！