“Out in the car. With Bob.”
His uncle froze. “Out there? Waitin’ there all this time? For Heaven’s sake, Henry, she’ll be in a conniption fit! You go bring her in here––and tell her to stop worryin’. I’m 19 sore as the devil, and I’m goin’ to make an example out of you, but that ain’t any reason to act like a grouch, is it? Sound sensible to you? Bring her in here. Not Bob––I’ll see him afterwards.”
She was small and intensely feminine, but there was nothing fragile about her, and no slightest hint of helplessness. She was pretty enough, too, and her attractions were more than skin-deep; to the qualities which showed in her eyes––sincerity and humour and imagination––there was also to be added sweetness of disposition and sensitiveness, which were proved by the curves of her mouth; and finally, there was quiet determination, stopping just short of stubbornness, which was evident in the moulding of her strong little chin.
She came in slowly, questioningly, not in fear, but merely poised so as to adjust herself to any style of reception. Mr. Starkweather met her eyes and laughed––a fat, spontaneous, understanding laugh––and blushing furiously, she 20 ran to him, with both her hands outstretched.
“Well, my dear,” said Mr. Starkweather, and interrupted himself long enough to kiss her, “I’ll say Henry’s got a darned sight better judgment ’n you have.... Go on and blush. Make a good job of it. Ashamed of yourself? So ’m I. Sit down there and cringe. You too, Henry.” He himself remained on his feet. “Funny thing,” he said, after a pause. “Only chance I ever had to get married myself was somethin’ like this is––oh, I wasn’t a gilt loafer, like Henry is; I was workin’ sixteen hours a day, but I wasn’t makin’ money enough. Both our fathers said so. And she’d have run off, but I wouldn’t. Thought it wasn’t respectable, I guess. Anyhow, it kind of petered out, and I lost my nerve. Wish to thunder I’d taken a chance when I had it. Worth it, sometimes.” He whirled on Henry, abruptly. “Well, you took your chance. Now let’s see if you think it’s worth it. If you’re figurin’ on any help from me, you got to work for it first. If you’d waited, I’d kind of made things easy for you. Now, I’m goin’ to hand you the meanest job I can think of. It won’t be an insult and it won’t 21 be a joke, but maybe you’ll take it for both––until you learn better.”
“What is it, Uncle John?”
“I’ll tell you when you get back from your honeymoon.”
The two young people stared at each other, and at Mr. Starkweather. “From our––what?” asked the girl, incredulously.
“Honeymoon. Oh, you made a couple of prize fools of yourselves, and if I did what I ought to, I’d cut Henry off sharp this minute. But––guess I better make a fool of myself, so you’ll feel more at home.” He coughed explosively. “Besides, you’re awful young, both of you––and damn it, if you don’t cash in on it now, next thing you know you’ll be wonderin’ where the time’s gone, anyway. No sense in robbin’ you of the best months of your life, just because you hadn’t sense enough to rob yourselves of it––is there? Oh, I suppose I’m a kind of a sentimental cuss, but––must be I like the feelin’ of it.” He jerked his head toward Henry. “This is April. Take her off somewhere––Italy? South of France?––’till next August. Then you report back here, all fixed 22 and ready to eat crow. Sound fair to you?”