"The Ladies": A Shining Constellation of Wit and Beauty

by L. Adams Beck

And suddenly--"Go--go!" he cried, rejecting me and thrusting me from him. "Go, and never again let me see your face. I sicken--I sicken at what is done. No--no! Speak not, utter not, lest I strike you and myself dead. Leave me, for God's pity's sake! Go!"

So did the Angel with the flaming sword drive our first parents out of Paradise. I drew apart shuddering, and he cried after me in a loud whisper:--

"Let none see your face. Go in by the covered door, and so to your room, and plead headache if Dingley see you. Go."

I left him in the dark. I drew my palatine about my face and none saw; and so to my room, and outed the light, and sat by the window till the dawn came.

Now, if I am condemned herein, I take the blame, but cannot change my thought. What woman in giving all met ever so sorry a return--and why? I broke my brain with thinking, and at that time found no answer. Later, I knew. But to escape the hue and cry of question, I washed the tears from my eyes in the morning, and so to the housekeeper's room. And he was there, reading in a great book, and my heart leapt like the last leap of a hare with the dogs on it.

"Why, Stellakin--saucy-nose!" says he, laughing, but his face was pale. He could cheat with his words, but I saw his face bleacht like a linen clout behind his laugh, and I swear at that time he loved me, though he loved advancement better. "You are bright and early, young woman! Are you for the garden, to get you a stomach for breakfast? Well, so-so! and pray for poor Presto as you go; for in honour and conscience, his Ppt is the child of his heart."

How could I endure this? I closed the door, and left him laughing with white lips.

So went the day, and now I saw his drift. He would hold the little language of childhood for a shield betwixt us. I should be nothing more for ever than Ppt,--poor pretty thing,--Stellakin, the pretty rogue. He would not fail in this, but only in all my hopes. He would give me all but that I longed for. He would glut me with sugar-comfits but never a taste of the living bread.

And next day a new thing. Dingley and I sitting together, he came upon us, and in all he said included ker. She was his second MD. He was her poor Presto, also. I saw his will and knew he built a fence about himself.

Sometimes I thought I had but a mean spirit so to live, and thought to ask his meaning; but dared not, for he struck an awe into my very soul. So gradually the days covered that sunset, and't was impossible I should speak; and life went by, and still I studied with him, but Dingley always present.