I Walked in Arden

by Jack Randall Crawford

I nodded.

"Not that your chemistry isn't good, as far as your temperament will allow it to be, but there's just the trouble. It ties you to a business routine in which you'll be mediocre. I don't want a mediocre husband, Ted."

"What has all this to do with South Kensington?" I queried, feeling quite uncomfortable. There was a determination and conviction in Helen's tone much at variance with the masculine theory of the clinging vine.

"While we earn our living at chemistry, Ted dear, we must get ready for our real work. That's why I'm going to study at South Kensington."

A light dawned on me. Helen was going to help—to work with me! I was so happy my throat hurt.

"Some day, Ted, you'll write, and we'll make the toy theatre you've told me about real. I shall be able to help you, for I'll learn all I can about costumes and furniture and scenery. And I'm going to read every play ever written!"

For a mile we rhapsodized in wild enthusiasm, building one of the most astonishingly well-equipped castles-in-Spain imaginable. Apart from containing the neatest little country-house and garden, it had also a laboratory and a theatre which was to be the world's center of all important things dramatic. We didn't forget a kennel for Sir Leonidas de la Patte Jaune. Curiously enough, neither of us thought of a nursery. No shadow of doubt crossed our minds that everything we planned would be realized. We had such faith in each other we were certain anything we wished was attainable. We had only to join forces to make the world bow to us. It wasn't conscious conceit; we were humble in our happiness. There were many things in the world which needed doing and doing well; we were merely planning to do our share. We thought of it all as our duty toward life; there was no wish for vainglory—no longing for riches. Indeed, we did already know enough to understand that the things we were going to do were not the things which bring wealth—at least, that it was not the easiest road to financial success. Nevertheless we always had in our minds, as a major premise, sufficient funds for our purposes. This latter assumption it did not occur to us to analyse. We could live by chemistry as we went along.

We returned home to find Miss Hershey and Mr. Claybourne awaiting us with another practical discussion. It was necessary formally to announce our engagement; the question of marriage was to be a subject for later negotiations. My illness and Helen's care of me had, however, rather forced the issue, so that Mr. Claybourne thought it wise to recognize the engagement. Mrs. Claybourne was returning from Asheville specially on this account. So much Mr. Claybourne contributed. Miss Hershey took up the running at this point: she had decided, upon consultation with Mr. Claybourne, to have the engagement announced at a dinner party, to be followed by a dance, on Christmas eve at the country club. What did we think of this arrangement? To tell the honest truth, we neither of us, as we confessed when alone, cared to be the centre of such an elaborate show. To protest was ungracious when intentions were so excellent; with much forcing of our dispositions we appeared delighted. Miss Hershey carried off Helen to make a list of guests; Mr. Claybourne took me into the library. We sat down, I in my usual trepidation when confronted with practical details.

"I have had a letter from your father, Edward," he began, taking out a familiar envelope. I was surprised, for as yet I had received only a cable of good wishes. "He appears pleased with the step you have taken." I bent my face into a smile. "I have been just a trifle uneasy for fear that his disapproval might affect your future. He is, on the contrary, ready to do what he can to assist."

This time I really smiled—not that I had had any doubt, but it was pleasant to learn of my father's absolute trust in me.