“What man would be delayed and annoyed in his sports by an unlearned woman? I have letters to write to friends in Riva and Tahiti, so go you with Maisie.”
Dan was glad to accept an invitation so heartily extended. He had a feeling that, in the delicate operation of remaining strictly neutral, he had neglected Maisie; he felt that Maisie sensed the neglect. With a light heart and a beaming smile, therefore, he sought her out and drove off with her to the golf links at Pebble Beach. They played eighteen holes and had luncheon at the Lodge, and not once during the day did either refer to Tamea, her future or her avowed attitude toward her guardian.
Late in the afternoon they drove down the Monterey County coast. Dan could not recall an occasion when Maisie had been more delightful in conversation or more winsome as to personal appearance. She appeared to have fallen suddenly into a habit he had not previously noted, that of adjusting herself to his moods. Throughout that drive there were long, blissful silences when Maisie observed his head sunk on his breast and the dreamer’s look in his troubled eyes; when he saw fit to toss her a conversational bone she seized it eagerly and managed to extract from it a surprising quantity of red meat. He was thrilled with a new sense of the girl’s potentialities for comradeship and sympathy, for abrupt and infallible understanding. Today she made no attempt to dominate him, to encompass and envelop him in the aura of her penchant for leadership, for direction. And he liked that quite as much as he disliked criticism, whether expressed or implied. Had Maisie at last sensed what had been keeping them apart for so long—his repugnance to the slightest suggestion of a hindrance to his masculine freedom? He pondered this.
Dan wished that women viewed men and their affairs from a more masculine point of view. He wished that they did not have such a tendency to condemn without trial by jury, as it were. He deplored their prompt and definite acting on instinct or intuition, and he wished that the girl he might desire ardently to marry should be possessed of a modicum of the sportsmanship of a very gallant gentleman. Why did they dislike each other so on sight? Why did they provoke silly little tiffs over nothing in particular; and why, when they were not on speaking terms with each other, did they decline to avoid the embarrassment of a meeting, as men do? Why were they controlled by their emotions? How difficult of understanding they were!
Well, at any rate, Tamea appeared to have a fairly well developed sense of sportsmanship, for she had deliberately abdicated today in favor of her rival, and Dan thought that was mighty decent of her. She had a definite philosophy, and, it seemed to him, she could smother an active dislike and not develop the remotest indications of a soul convulsion. Poor child! He wondered if he had been quite kind in leaving her to amuse herself all day at the hotel.
He shifted his position and his hand fell, not by design, on top of Maisie’s. Instantly her soft, warm fingers closed over it. The touch thrilled him pleasurably; he wanted to hold Maisie’s hand, so soft and small and fragile; he did not want her to hold his. So he removed his hand from hers and she drew away from him.
“Ah, don’t,” he murmured. “I didn’t mean that,” and his arm went up and around her neck, deliberately, possessively. She leaned toward him and he felt her tremble. “This has been a wonderful, wonderful day,” he said huskily. “It’s been one of those rare days that upthrust themselves for years in one’s dearest memories. You’re such a bully little comrade, Maisie. I’m getting quite wild about you, dear,” and he kissed her tenderly on the cheek closest to him and patted the other cheek.
Her eyes were starry with love; she snuggled closer to him and laid her head in the hollow of his shoulder. “I’m glad you wanted to play with me today, old dear,” she whispered. “I’ve been so happy. I was afraid, when I heard Mark Mellenger had left early this morning, that you would attempt the impossible task of spreading yourself over too much territory. I don’t think I could have stood more than nine holes with Tamea along for a gallery.”
“Score one for Tamea there,” he blurted undiplomatically. “She declined to come with us.”
She raised her head and looked out of the window. “Oh,” she breathed, “so you did ask her!”