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the portygee-第38章

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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!
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