Tommy and Grizel Page 12

  CHAPTER XII

  IN WHICH A COMEDIAN CHALLENGES TRAGEDY TO BOWLS

  When Grizel opened the door of Corp's house she found husband and wifeat home, the baby in his father's arms; what is more, Gavinia waslooking on smiling and saying, "You bonny litlin, you're windy to havehim dandling you; and no wonder, for he's a father to be proud o'."Corp was accepting it all with a complacent smirk. Oh, agreeablechange since last we were in this house! oh, happy picture of domesticbliss! oh--but no, these are not the words; what we meant to say was,"Gavinia, you limmer, so you have got the better of that man of yoursat last."

  How had she contrived it? We have seen her escorting the old lady tothe Dovecot, Corp skulking behind. Our next peep at them shows Gaviniaback at her house, Corp peering through the window and wonderingwhether he dare venture in. Gavinia was still bothered, for though sheknew now the story of Tommy's heroism, there was no glove in it, andit was the glove that maddened her.

  "No, I ken nothing about a glove," the old lady had assured her.

  "Not a sylup was said about a glove," maintained Christina, who hadgiven her a highly coloured narrative of what took place in Mrs.McLean's parlour.

  "And yet there's a glove in't as sure as there's a quirk in't,"Gavinia kept muttering to herself. She rose to have another look atthe hoddy-place in which she had concealed the glove from her husband,and as she did so she caught sight of him at the window. He bobbed atonce, but she hastened to the door to scarify him. The clock had givenonly two ticks when she was upon him, but in that time she hadcompletely changed her plan of action. She welcomed him with smiles ofpride. Thus is the nimbleness of women's wit measured once and forall. They need two seconds if they are to do the thing comfortably.

  "Never to have telled me, and you behaved so grandly!" she cried, withadoring glances that were as a carpet on which he strode pompouslyinto the house.

  "It wasna me that did it; it was him," said Corp, and even then hefeared that he had told too much. "I kenna what you're speakingabout," he added loyally.

  "Corp," she answered, "you needna be so canny, for the laddie is inthe town, and Mr. Sandys has confessed all."

  "The whole o't?"

  "Every risson."

  "About the glove, too?"

  "Glove and all," said wicked Gavinia, and she continued to feast hereyes so admiringly on her deceived husband that he passed quickly fromthe gratified to the dictatorial.

  "Let this be a lesson to you, woman," he said sternly; and Gaviniaintimated with humility that she hoped to profit by it.

  "Having got the glove in so solemn a way," he went on, "it would havebeen ill done of me to blab to you about it. Do you see that now,woman?"

  She said it was as clear as day to her. "And a solemn way it was," sheadded, and then waited eagerly.

  "My opinion," continued Corp, lowering his voice as if this were notmatter for the child, "is that it's a love-token frae some Londonwoman."

  "Behear's!" cried Gavinia.

  "Else what," he asked, "would make him hand it to me so solemn-like,and tell me to pass it on to her if he was drowned? I didna think o'that at the time, but it has come to me, Gavinia; it has come."

  This was a mouthful indeed to Gavinia. So the glove was the propertyof Mr. Sandys, and he was in love with a London lady, and--no, this istoo slow for Gavinia; she saw these things in passing, as one whojumps from the top of a house may have lightning glimpses through manywindows on the way down. What she jumped to was the vital question,Who was the woman?

  But she was too cunning to ask a leading question.

  "Ay, she's his lady-love," she said, controlling herself, "but Iforget her name. It was a very wise-like thing o' you to speir thewoman's name."

  "But I didna."

  "You didna!"

  "He was in the water in a klink."

  Had Gavinia been in Corp's place she would have had the name out ofTommy, water or no water; but she did not tell her husband what shethought of him.

  "Ay, of course," she said pleasantly. "It was after you helped him outthat he telled you her name."

  "Did he say he telled me her name?"

  "He did."

  "Well, then, I've fair forgot it."

  Instead of boxing his ears she begged him to reflect. Result ofreflection, that if the name had been mentioned to Corp, which hedoubted, it began with M.

  Was it Mary?

  That was the name.

  Or was it Martha?

  It had a taste of Martha about it.

  It was not Margaret?

  It might have been Margaret.

  Or Matilda?

  It was fell like Matilda.

  And so on. "But wi' a' your wheedling," Corp reminded his wife,bantering her from aloft, "you couldna get a scraping out o' me till Iwas free to speak."

  He thought it a good opportunity for showing Gavinia her place onceand for all. "In small matters," he said, "I gie you your ain way, forthough you may be wrang, thinks I to mysel', 'She's but a woman'; butin important things, Gavinia, if I humoured you I would spoil you, solet this be a telling to you that there's no diddling a determinedman"; to which she replied by informing the baby that he had a fatherto be proud of.

  A father to be proud of! They were the words heard by Grizel as sheentered. She also saw Gavinia looking admiringly at her man, and inthat doleful moment she thought she understood all. It was Corp whohad done it, and Tommy had been the looker-on. He had sought to keepthe incident secret because, though he was in it, the glory had beenwon by another (oh, how base!), and now, profiting by the boy'smistake, he was swaggering in that other's clothes (oh, baser still!).Everything was revealed to her in a flash, and she stooped over thebaby to hide a sudden tear. She did not want to hear any more.

  The baby cried. Babies are aware that they can't do very much; but allof them who knew Grizel were almost contemptuously confident of theirpower over her, and when this one saw (they are very sharp) that inhis presence she could actually think of something else, he was sohurt that he cried.

  Was she to be blamed for thinking so meanly of Tommy? You can blameher with that tear in her eye if you choose; but I can think only ofthe gladness that came afterwards when she knew she had been unjust tohim. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!" the bird sang to its Creatorwhen the sun came out after rain, and it was Grizel's song as shelistened to Corp's story of heroic Tommy. There was no room in herexultant heart for remorse. It would have shown littleness to be ableto think of herself at all when she could think so gloriously of him.She was more than beautiful now; she was radiant; and it was becauseTommy was the man she wanted him to be. As those who are cold holdout their hands to the fire did she warm her heart at what Corp had totell, and the great joy that was lit within her made her radiant. Nowthe baby was in her lap, smiling back to her. He thought he had doneit all. "So you thought you could resist me!" the baby crowed.

  The glove had not been mentioned yet. "The sweetest thing of all tome," Grizel said, "is that he did not want me to hear the story fromyou, Corp, because he knew you would sing his praise so loudly."

  "I'm thinking," said Gavinia, archly, "he had another reason for nowanting you to question Corp. Maybe he didna want you to ken about theLondon lady and her glove. Will you tell her, man, or will I?"

  They told her together, and what had been conjectures were now putforward as facts. Tommy had certainly said a London lady, and ascertainly he had given her name, but what it was Corp could notremember. But "Give her this and tell her it never left my heart"--hecould swear to these words.

  "And no words could be stronger," Gavinia said triumphantly. Sheproduced the glove, and was about to take off its paper wrapping whenGrizel stopped her.

  "We have no right, Gavinia." "I suppose we hinna, and I'm thinkingthe pocket it came out o' is feeling gey toom without it. Will youtake it back to him?"

  "It was very wrong of you to keep it," Grizel answered, "but I can'ttake it to him, for I see now that his reason for wanting me not tocome here was
to prevent my hearing about it. I am sorry you told me.Corp must take it back." But when she saw it being crushed in Corp'srough hand, a pity for the helpless glove came over her. She said:"After all, I do know about it, so I can't pretend to him that Idon't. I will give it to him, Corp"; and she put the little package inher pocket with a brave smile.

  Do you think the radiance had gone from her face now? Do you think thejoy that had been lit in her heart was dead? Oh, no, no! Grizel hadnever asked that Tommy should love her; she had asked only that heshould be a fine man. She did not ask it for herself, only for him.She could not think of herself now, only of him. She did not think sheloved him. She thought a woman should not love any man until she knewhe wanted her to love him.

  But if Tommy had wanted it she would have been very glad. She knew,oh, she knew so well, that she could have helped him best. Many anoble woman has known it as she stood aside.

  In the meantime Tommy had gone home in several states ofmind--reckless, humble, sentimental, most practical, defiant,apprehensive. At one moment he was crying, "Now, Grizel, now, when itis too late, you will see what you have lost." At the next he quakedand implored the gods to help him out of his predicament. It wasapprehension that, on the whole, played most of the tunes, for he wasby no means sure that Grizel would not look upon the affair of theglove as an offer of his hand, and accept him. They would show her theglove, and she would, of course, know it to be her own. "Give her thisand tell her it never left my heart." The words thumped within himnow. How was Grizel to understand that he had meant nothing inparticular by them?

  I wonder if you misread him so utterly as to believe that he thoughthimself something of a prize? That is a vulgar way of looking atthings of which our fastidious Tommy was incapable. As much as Grizelherself, he loathed the notion that women have a thirsty eye on man;when he saw them cheapening themselves before the sex that should holdthem beyond price, he turned his head and would not let his mind dwellon the subject. He was a sort of gentleman, was Tommy. And he knewGrizel so well that had all the other women in the world been of thiskind, it would not have persuaded him that there was a drop of suchblood in her. Then, if he feared that she was willing to be his, itmust have been because he thought she loved him? Not a bit of it. Asalready stated, he thought he had abundant reason to think otherwise.It was remorse that he feared might bring her to his feet, thediscovery that while she had been gibing at him he had been a heroicfigure, suffering in silence, eating his heart for love of her.Undoubtedly that was how Grizel must see things now; he must seem toher to be an angel rather than a mere man; and in sheer remorse shemight cry, "I am yours!" Vain though Tommy was, the picture gave himnot a moment's pleasure. Alarm was what he felt.

  Of course he was exaggerating Grizel's feelings. She had too muchself-respect and too little sentiment to be willing to marry any manbecause she had unintentionally wronged him. But this was how Tommywould have acted had he happened to be a lady. Remorse, pity, no onewas so good at them as Tommy.

  In his perturbation he was also good at maidenly reserve. He feltstrongly that the proper course for Grizel was not to refer to theglove--to treat that incident as closed, unless he chose to reopen it.This was so obviously the correct procedure that he seemed to see heradopting it like a sensible girl, and relief would have come to himhad he not remembered that Grizel usually took her own way, and thatit was seldom his way.

  There were other ways of escape. For instance, if she would only lethim love her hopelessly. Oh, Grizel had but to tell him there was nohope, and then how finely he would behave! It would bring out all thatwas best in him. He saw himself passing through life as her veryperfect knight. "Is there no hope for me?" He heard himself beggingfor hope, and he heard also her firm answer: "None!" How he had alwaysadmired the outspokenness of Grizel. Her "None!" was as splendidlydecisive as of yore.

  The conversation thus begun ran on in him, Tommy doing the speakingfor both (though his lips never moved), and feeling the scene asvividly as if Grizel had really been present and Elspeth was not.Elspeth was sitting opposite him.

  "At least let me wait, Grizel," he implored. "I don't care for howlong; fix a time yourself, and I shall keep to it, and I promise neverto speak one word of love to you until that time comes, and then ifyou bid me go I shall go. Give me something to live for. It binds youto nothing, and oh, it would make such a difference to me."

  Then Grizel seemed to reply gently, but with the firmness he adored:"I know I cannot change, and it would be mistaken kindness to do asyou suggest. No, I can give you no hope; but though I can never marryyou, I will watch your future with warm regard, for you have to-daypaid me the highest compliment a man can pay a woman."

  (How charmingly it was all working out!)

  Tommy bowed with dignity and touched her hand with his lips. What isit they do next in Pym and even more expensive authors? Oh, yes! "Ifat any time in your life, dear Grizel," he said, "you are in need of afriend, I hope you will turn first to me. It does not matter whereyour message reaches me, I will come to you without delay."

  In his enthusiasm he saw the letter being delivered to him in CentralAfrica, and immediately he wheeled round on his way to Thrums.

  "There is one other little request I should like to make of you," hesaid huskily. "Perhaps I ask too much, but it is this: may I keep yourglove?"

  She nodded her head; she was so touched that she could scarcely trustherself to speak. "But you will soon get over this," she said at last;"another glove will take the place of mine; the time will come whenyou will be glad that I said I could not marry you."

  "Grizel!" he cried in agony. He was so carried away by his feelingsthat he said the word aloud.

  "Where?" asked Elspeth, looking at the window.

  "Was it not she who passed just now?" he replied promptly; and theywere still discussing his mistake when Grizel did pass, but only tostop at the door. She came in.

  "My brother must have the second sight," declared Elspeth, gaily, "forhe saw you coming before you came"; and she told what had happened,while Grizel looked happily at Tommy, and Tommy looked apprehensivelyat her. Grizel, he might have seen, was not wearing the tragic face ofsacrifice; it was a face shining with gladness, a girl still too happyin his nobility to think remorsefully of her own misdeeds. To let himknow that she was proud of him, that was what she had come forchiefly, and she was even glad that Elspeth was there to hear. It wasan excuse to her to repeat Corp's story, and she told it with defiantlooks at Tommy that said, "You are so modest, you want to stop me, butElspeth will listen; it is nearly as sweet to Elspeth as it is to me,and I shall tell her every word, yes, and tell her a great deal of ittwice."

  It was not modesty which made Tommy so anxious that she should thinkless of him, but naturally it had that appearance. The most heroicfellows, I am told, can endure being extolled by pretty girls, buthere seemed to be one who could not stand it.

  "You need not think it is of you we are proud," she assured himlight-heartedly; "it is really of ourselves. I am proud of being yourfriend. To-morrow, when I hear the town ringing your praises, I shallnot say, 'Yes, isn't he wonderful?' I shall say, 'Talk of me; I, too,am an object of interest, for I am his friend.'"

  "I have often been pointed out as his sister," said Elspeth,complacently.

  "He did not choose his sister," replied Grizel, "but he chose hisfriends."

  For a time he could suck no sweetness from it. She avoided the glove,he was sure, only because of Elspeth's presence. But anon therearrived to cheer him a fond hope that she had not heard of it, and asthis became conviction, exit the Tommy who could not abide himself,and enter another who was highly charmed therewith. Tommy had a notionthat certain whimsical little gods protected him in return for thesport he gave them, and he often kissed his hand to them when theycame to the rescue. He would have liked to kiss it now, but gave agrateful glance instead to the corner in the ceiling where they satchuckling at him. Grizel admired him at last. Tra, la, la! What a deargirl she was! Into his manner t
here crept a certain masterfulness, andinstead of resisting it she beamed. Rum-ti-tum!

  "If you want to spoil me," he said lazily, "you will bring me thatfootstool to rest my heroic feet upon." She smiled and brought it.She even brought a cushion for his heroic head. Adoring little thingthat she was, he must be good to her.

  He was now looking forward eagerly to walking home with her. I can'ttell you how delicious he meant to be. When she said she must go, heskipped upstairs for his hat, and wafted the gods their kiss. But itwas always the unexpected that lay in wait for Tommy. He and she wereno sooner out of the house than Grizel said, "I did not mention theglove, as I was not sure whether Elspeth knew of it."

  He had turned stone-cold.

  "Corp and Gavinia told me," she went on quietly, "before I had time tostop them. Of course I should have preferred not to know until I heardit from yourself."

  Oh, how cold he was!

  "But as I do know, I want to tell you that it makes me very happy."

  They had stopped, for his legs would carry him no farther. "Get us outof this," every bit of him was crying, but not one word could Tommysay.

  "I knew you would want to have it again," Grizel said brightly,producing the little parcel from her pocket, "so I brought it to you."

  The frozen man took it and held it passively in his hand. His gods hadflown away.

  No, they were actually giving him another chance. What was thisGrizel was saying? "I have not looked at it, for to take it out of itswrapping would have been profanation. Corp told me she was a Londongirl; but I know nothing more, not even her name. You are not angrywith me for speaking of her, are you? Surely I may wish you and hergreat happiness."

  He was saved. The breath came back quickly to him. He filled like areleased ball. Had ever a heart better right to expand? Grizel,looking so bright and pleased, had snatched him from the Slugs. Surelyyou will be nice to your preserver, Tommy. You will not be lessgrateful than a country boy?

  Ah me! not even yet have we plumed his vanity. But we are to do itnow. He could not have believed it of himself, but in the midst of hisrejoicings he grew bitter, and for no better reason than that Grizel'sface was bright.

  "I am glad," he said quite stiffly, "that it is such pleasant news toyou."

  His tone surprised her; but she was in a humble mood, and answered,without being offended: "It is sweet news to me. How could you thinkotherwise?"

  So it was sweet to her to think that he was another's! He who had beenmodestly flattering himself a few moments ago that he must take carenot to go too far with this admiring little girl! O woman, woman, howdifficult it is to know you, and how often, when we think we know youat last, have we to begin again at the beginning! He had never askedan enduring love from her; but surely, after all that had passedbetween them, he had a right to expect a little more than this. Was itmaidenly to bring the glove and hand it to him without a tremor? Ifshe could do no more, she might at least have turned a little palewhen Corp told her of it, and then have walked quietly away. Next dayshe could have referred to it, with just the slightest break in hervoice. But to come straight to him, looking delighted--

  "And, after all, I am entitled to know first," Grizel said, "for I amyour oldest friend."

  Friend! He could not help repeating the word with bitter emphasis. Forher sake, as it seemed to him now, he had flung himself into the blackwaters of the Drumly. He had worn her glove upon his heart. It hadbeen the world to him. And she could stand there and call herself hisfriend. The cup was full. Tommy nodded his head sorrowfully threetimes.

  "So be it, Grizel," he said huskily; "so be it!" Sentiment could nowcarry him where it willed. The reins were broken.

  "I don't understand."

  Neither did he; but, "Why should you? What is it to you!" he criedwildly. "Better not to understand, for it might give you fiveminutes' pain, Grizel, a whole five minutes, and I should be sorry togive you that."

  "What have I said! What have I done!"

  "Nothing," he answered her, "nothing. You have been most exemplary;you have not even got any entertainment out of it. The thing neverstruck you as possible. It was too ludicrous!"

  He laughed harshly at the package, which was still in his hand. "Poorlittle glove," he said; "and she did not even take the trouble to lookat you. You might have looked at it, Grizel. I have looked at it agood deal. It meant something to me once upon a time when I was a vainfool. Take it and look at it before you fling it away. It will makeyou laugh."

  Now she knew, and her arms rocked convulsively. Joy surged to herface, and she drove it back. She looked at him steadfastly over thecollar of her jacket; she looked long, as if trying to be suspiciousof him for the last time. Ah, Grizel, you are saying good-bye to yourbest friend!

  As she looked at him thus there was a mournfulness in her brave facethat went to Tommy's heart and almost made a man of him. It was as ifhe knew that she was doomed.

  "Grizel," he cried, "don't look at me in that way!" And he would havetaken the package from her, but she pressed it to her heart.

  "Don't come with me," she said almost in a whisper, and went away.

  He did not go back to the house. He wandered into the country, quiteobjectless when he was walking fastest, seeing nothing when he stoodstill and stared. Elation and dread were his companions. What elationwhispered he could not yet believe; no, he could not believe it. Whilehe listened he knew that he must be making up the words. By and by hefound himself among the shadows of the Den. If he had loved Grizel hewould have known that it was here she would come, to the sweet Denwhere he and she had played as children, the spot where she had lovedhim first. She had always loved him--always, always. He did not knowwhat figure it was by the Cuttle Well until he was quite close toher. She was kissing the glove passionately, and on her eyes laylittle wells of gladness.