Gail has letters, too, as the days wear on. She scarcely has time for them amid all the impromptu gaieties, but she does find a chance to read them; some of them twice. Of course there are letters from “home,” a prim and still affectionate one from Aunt Helen Davies, and a loving one, full of worry about Gail’s possible tonsilitis, from Aunt Grace, a hearty scrawl from Jim, a bubbling little note from Lucile, an absurd love letter from Ted, couched in terms of the utmost endearment, and winding up with the proposition to elope with her if she’d only come back. That was the tenor of all her letters; if she’d only come back! Bless their hearts, she loved them; and yes, longed for them, even here in the happy, sheltering environment of her own dear home and friends! There were still other letters; a confidently friendly one from Allison, who sent her regularly candy and flowers on alternate days; a substantial one from Houston Van Ploon; a thoughtful one from Willis Cunningham; a florid one from Dick Rodley; nice little notes, calculated to relieve her embarrassment, from all her “slaves” except the missing Count; and a discussion from the Reverend Smith Boyd. That was one of those which she read more than once; for it was quite worth it.
“Dear Miss Sargent:
“This being our regular evening for discussion, I beg to remind you that on our last debate, I shall not call it a dispute, we had barely touched upon the necessity for ritual, or rather, to avoid any quibble over the word necessity, on my insistence for the need of a ritual, when we decided that it was better to sing for the balance of the evening. I was the more ready to acquiesce in this, as we had, for the first time, hit upon a theorem to which we could both subscribe; namely, that it is just as easy for the human mind to grasp the biblical theory of creation as to grasp the creation of the life-producing chaos out of which evolution must have proceeded.”
Gail laid down the letter at this point and smiled, with dancing eyes. She could see the stern face of the young rector brightening with pleasure as she had herself propounded this thought, and she could revisualise his grave pleasure as he had clothed it in accurate words for them both. It was, as he had said, an extremely solid starting point, to which they could always return.
“That this belief is sufficient, even including a continuance of the omnipresent personal regard which we both admit to assume in that Creator, I deny. I can see your cheeks flush and your brown eyes sparkle as you come to this flat statement; and I am willing to answer for you that you object to my making so far-sweeping a statement, in the very beginning of what was to have been a slowly deductive process. You may not be wording it in just this manner, but this is, in effect, what you are saying.
“With much patience, I reply that you have not waited for me to finish, which, I must observe, in justice to myself, you seldom do.
“Kindly wait just a minute, please. You have thrown back your head, your brown hair tossing, your pointed chin uptilted, and a little red spot beginning to appear in your delicately tinted cheeks, but I hasten to remind you that, if we take up this little side matter of my unfortunate mention of one of your youthful proclivities, we shall forget entirely the topic under discussion. I apologise for having been so rude as to remind you of it, and beg to state that when I pause at a comma, you had heard but half a statement.
“At this point you remark that no discussion should be based upon a half statement, and I admit, with shame, that I am slightly indignant, for you have not yet permitted me to finish my original proposition. Now you are sitting back, with your slender white hands folded in your lap, and the toe of one of your little pointed slippers waving gently, your curved lashes drooping, and your eyes carelessly fixed on my cravat, which I can not see, but which I believe to have been tied with as much care as a gentleman should expend upon his attire.
“Miss Sargent, you leave me helpless. I feel a chill sensation in my cheeks, as if a cold draught had blown upon them. You are firmly resolved to let me talk without interruption for the next half hour, upon which you will give me a most adroit answer to everything I have said. Your answer will have all the effect of refuting my entire line of logic, without having given me an opportunity to defend the individual steps.
“I decline, with much patience, very much patience indeed, to lay myself open to this conclusion, not because of the undeserved sense of defeat it will force upon me, but because the matter at issue is too grave and important to be given a prejudiced dismissal.