He was captivated by her severity. She refused to go out with him that evening; so he came again the next evening.
“Please come!” he entreated. “I’ve got the car outside. I’ll wait for you as long as you like, and then we’ll run up to a little place on the Post Road.”
“No, thank you,” said Madeline. “I never go out with strange gentlemen.”
“How am I going to stop being a strange gentleman if you’ll never go out with me?” he complained.
Madeline didn’t know, and didn’t care to encourage strange young men by trying to explain. She knew perfectly well that he would come back.
To be sure, he did, and this time he was dreadfully insistent. Now perhaps the cause of Madeline’s hauteur was the take-it-or-leave-it attitude of the men she knew. Certainly she had never before encountered a persistent suitor, or one who was not offended by rebuffs. Customers inclined to gallantry were very much annoyed if not encouraged. Even Mr. Ritchie was fatally ready to be insulted; but this young fellow didn’t care in the least. Let her be haughty, captious, even cruel, still he was charmed and delighted.
Though she did not think this quite manly, Madeline could not withstand the cajolery of the handsome and good-natured boy. She was thrilled with pride that this splendid creature should come to seek her in Compson’s lowly chophouse. She was secretly overwhelmed when he brought her orchids. She didn’t really resent the innuendoes of the other girls. They were simply jealous because no such hero ever had or ever would come to seek them.
In her heart she was grateful, almost humble. She regarded her incomparable Bradley with something very like awe. To placate Compson, he would order coffee and pie while he waited to talk to her; and his manner of eating and drinking, the way he rose and remained standing when she approached, all the careless ease and grace of him, were a marvel and a joy. Moreover, even in her most fervent admiration, she had never lost the protective tenderness she had felt the first time she had seen him. She worried about him, about his health and his morals.
This was really the reason why she finally consented to go out with him—so that she could talk seriously and firmly, and perhaps reclaim him.
“Well, you can be waiting for me to-morrow at nine o’clock,” she said. “You’d better go along now.”