Introduction to Sally

by Elizabeth Von Arnim

‘Oh, stop!’ she cried, leaping to her feet and thrusting as much of herself as would go through the window. ‘Here’s my father—yes, and Sally. Stop—oh, stop!’ she cried, frantically waving her arms.

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It had been decreed by Fate that Jocelyn should be reunited to Sally in the middle of the road just beyond Waterbeach, at the point where the lane to Lyddiatt’s Farm turns off; for such was the Duke’s desire to help his lovely friend and such his infatuation, that he had actually broken his rule of never emerging from Crippenham, once he got there, till the day appointed for his departure, and was himself taking her to Ananias to hand her over in person to her husband, afterwards lunching with the Master,—a thing unheard of, this lunching, for the Duke disliked the Master’s politics and the Master disliked the Duke’s, but what wouldn’t one do to further the interests, by saying a good word for them, of the young couple?

This he had arranged that morning before coming downstairs, his amazed servant telephoning the message and receiving the Master’s hypocritical expressions of pleasure in return, for apart from the Duke’s politics the Master was no fonder of a deaf guest than anybody else; and just as Sally, on that garden seat, was coming to the end of her patience and submissiveness and was seriously thinking of jumping up and taking to her heels, the parlourmaid appeared on the path; and when she was quite close she stood still, and opened her mouth very wide, and roared out that the car was at the door; and the Duke, with a final pat of benediction, bade Sally fetch her hat, and come with him to her husband.

So there it was that they met,—the taxi and the Rolls Royce, Laura and Jocelyn, Sally and the Duke. And on the Swaffham Prior side of Waterbeach, where the crooked signpost points to Lyddiatt’s Farm, the dull, empty road was made radiant for a moment that day by happiness.

‘Stop! Stop!’ cried Laura, frantically waving.

‘Sally! Oh—oh, Sally!’ shouted Jocelyn, standing up too, and trying too, behind Laura, to wave.

The chauffeur recognised Laura, and pulled up as soon as he could; the taxi pulled up with a great grinding of its brakes; Jocelyn jumped out of one door, and Laura of the other; and both ran.

‘Why,’ said Sally, who didn’t know what had happened, turning her head and looking in astonishment at the two running figures coming along behind, ‘why,’ she said, forgetting the Duke was deaf, ‘’ere is Mr. Luke——’

And in another instant Jocelyn was there, up on the step of the car, leaning over the side, dragging her to him with both arms, hugging her to his heart, and kissing her as if there were no one in the world except themselves.