“You wouldn’t find them half as endearing if you had to wake up in the middle of the night and replenish him.”
“Oh I say, Weedgie! Must you always speak of him as though he were a gas-tank, or a bank account!”
“Pass me your cup. After skating you also want a lot of replenishing, like your greedy heir. Now let’s for goodness’ sake talk about something else,—the New Year’s dance for instance.”
Keble was always ready nowadays to talk on any subject in which Louise showed signs of interest. The recognized household term for it was “trying to be the water Louise is a fish in.”
CHAPTER V
IN England there were several thousand acres which Keble would one day automatically take over. In Canada, creating his own estate, he could enjoy a satisfaction known only to the remotest of his ancestors. And as his wilderness became productive he acquired, atavistically, the attitude of a squire towards the people whose livelihood depended on him. He housed them comfortably; he listened to their claims and quarrels; he hired, discharged, and promoted with conscientious deliberation; and every so often he wrote letters to the provincial parliament about the state of the roads.
“Now it’s time to amuse them,” Louise had suggested. “People don’t remember that you have installed expensive lighting plants for their benefit, but they never forget a lively party.”
Thus was sown the seed of the New Year’s dance which was to be held in the hall and reception rooms of the empty new house. Invitations were issued to every soul at Hillside, and a poster tacked to the bulletin board of the Valley post office announced that anybody who cared to make the journey would be welcome.
Preparations for this evening revived Louise’s spirits as nothing had done in months. No detail was left to chance. Keble, held responsible for the music, endeavored for days to whip up the sluggish dance rhythms of the Valley bandmaster. “I’ve done everything but stand on my head and beat time with my feet,” he reported in desperation, “and they still play the fox-trots as though they were dirges. Fortunately the Valley knows no better.”