IV
Miss Carter was a wonderful hostess that evening. Maude was amazed. Never in her life had she seen her aunt so lively and amusing, with such a fine color on her cheeks and such a light in her eyes. She herself was a serious and quiet young creature, as a rule, but this evening Miss Carter made her talk and made her laugh—and Mr. Rhodes, too.
There they sat at the table, a most cheerful little party, with a most delectable tea set before them—a cold baked ham, a salad of tomatoes stuffed with celery, corn muffins, little custards baked in brown cups, strawberries and cream, and a superb three-layer chocolate cake; but Miss Carter didn’t seem to be very hungry. It was all dust and ashes to her. Every minute was a penance to her, and every smile she gave was a little stab of pain.
“Maude!” she cried, in her heart. “Oh, Maude, my dear, beautiful girl, talk to him! Laugh, my darling! Talk to him, and make him see! I do truly believe he is a good man—almost good enough for you! Oh, Maude, my darling, laugh, and talk, and be young! Make him see your beautiful, blessed youngness!”
Poor serious Maude was always trying to turn the conversation toward business, always bringing up charters, and marine insurance policies, and so on; and Miss Carter was forever turning her skillfully aside from these dangers, making her talk about dances and picnics and frivolous and entertaining episodes from her college days. Miss Carter understood the man, and Maude didn’t. Miss Carter knew only too well what things pleased and touched him, and she was fiercely determined that he should discover all those things in Maude.
It was very hard, though. Every time she got a chance, Maude began again about business. Her interest in shipping matters was prodigious.
“Do you think those two schooners you’re going to sell will bring—” she began, but again Miss Carter intervened.
“I saw the advertisement,” she said. “For sale ‘as is where is’—that’s a pretty high and mighty way to do business, I must say! Here they are—take ’em or leave ’em!”
“Well, you see—” Maude began again.
Miss Carter felt sure that the girl wanted to explain to her aunt exactly how schooners were sold.
“Oh, can’t she see?” she thought, almost in despair. “He doesn’t want to talk business! Oh, why can’t she just be young and—silly?”
In the end, for all her gallant efforts, she was defeated. Maude got the conversation where she wanted it, and she and Mr. Rhodes talked gravely about charters.
Miss Carter left them on the veranda, and went into the kitchen to wash the dishes. She wished that there were twice as many. She wished that there were enough dishes to keep her busy all night long, so that she needn’t go to bed and lie there in the dark.
She had failed—she knew it. Mr. Rhodes was very courteous and kindly to Maude, but nothing more. All her youth and loveliness were wasted on him. She was trying so desperately hard to please him, and she couldn’t!
“Oh, it’s so cruel!” cried Miss Carter to herself, alone in the kitchen. “Never mind, my dear little Maude! I’ll sell this house, dear, and we’ll go and live somewhere else, where there are more young people—more life for you. You mustn’t mind—you mustn’t care. Just forget all about him! He’s going away, and we’ll never think about him again—never!”
She heard Maude’s light footstep coming along the hall.
“Auntie,” her niece told her, “Mr. Rhodes is going.[Pg 291]”
“Oh, is he?” said Miss Carter.
She dried her hands, took off her apron, and came out to the front door.
“Good night, Mr. Rhodes,” she said.
“Good night,” he answered.
She could not see him. It was dark out there. She hoped she would never see him again, never remember his face, never think of the words that he had not spoken.
The front door closed, and he was gone. Miss Carter and Maude stood alone in the dimly lit hall, and for a time neither of them spoke or stirred.
“Well!” said Miss Carter briskly. “Time we were in bed, child.”
“Yes,” replied Maude, just as briskly. “It’s late.”
Then they looked at each other and smiled. With their arms about each other they went up the stairs and through the dark house, with all its orderly, empty rooms; and at Maude’s door they said good night, both of them still smiling. That was their way.