Holly: The Romance of a Southern Girl

by Ralph Henry Barbour

IX.

Winthrop thought that he could like Julian Wayne if that youth would let him. But it was evident from the moment of their first meeting that Julian wasn’t going to allow anything of the sort. He arrived at Waynewood Saturday night, and Winthrop, who had spent the evening with the Major at ’Squire Parish’s house, did not meet him until Sunday morning. He was tall, dark haired and sallow complexioned, and as handsome as any youth Winthrop had ever seen. His features were regular, with a fine, straight nose, wide eyes, a strong chin and a good, somewhat tense, mouth that matched with the general air of imperiousness he wore. Winthrop soon discovered that Julian Wayne retained undiminished the old Southern doctrine of caste and that he looked upon the new member of the Waynewood household with a polite but very frank contempt. He was ardent, impetuous, and arrogant, but they were traits of youth rather than of character, and Winthrop, for his part, readily forgave them. That he was head-over-heels in love with Holly was evident from the first, and Winthrop could have liked him the more for that. But Julian’s bearing was discouraging to any notions of friendship which Winthrop might have entertained. For Winthrop breakfast—which Miss India attended, as was her usual custom on Sundays—was an uncomfortable meal. He felt very much like an intruder, in spite of the fact that both Miss India and Holly strove to include him in the conversation, and he was relieved when it was over.

Julian imperiously claimed Holly’s companionship and the two went out to the front porch. Miss India attended to the matter of dinner supplies, and then returned to her room to dress for church. Being cut off from the porch, Winthrop went up-stairs and took a chair and a book out on to the gallery. But the voices of the two below came up to him in a low, eager hum, interspersed with occasional words, and drew his mind from the book. He was a little disappointed in Julian Wayne, he told himself. He could have wished a different sort of a man for Holly’s husband. And then he laughed at himself for inconsistency. Only two days before he had been celebrating just the youthful traits which Julian exhibited. Doubtless the boy would make her a very admirable mate. At least, he was thoroughly in love with her. Winthrop strove to picture the ideal husband for Holly and found himself all at sea on the instant, and ended by wondering whimsically how long he would allow Julian undisputed possession of her if he were fifteen—even ten—years younger!

Later they all walked to church, Julian and Holly leading the way, as handsome a couple as had ever passed under the whispering oak-trees, and Winthrop and Miss India pacing staidly along behind—at a discreet interval. Miss India’s bearing toward him amused Winthrop even while it piqued him. She was the most kind, most courteous little woman in the world to him, displaying a vast interest in and sympathy for his invalidism, and keeping an anxious watch over his goings and comings in the fear that he would overtax his strength. And yet all the while Winthrop knew as well as he knew his name that she resented his ownership of her home and would be vastly relieved at his departure. And knowing this, he, on every possible occasion, set himself to win the little lady’s liking, with, he was forced to acknowledge, scant prospect of success.

Winthrop sat between Miss India and Holly, with Julian at the end of the pew. It was his first sight of the little, unadorned Episcopal church, for he had not accompanied the ladies the previous Sunday. It was a plain, uncompromising interior in which he found himself. The bare white walls were broken only by big, small-paned windows of plain glass. The pews were of yellow pine and the pulpit and stiff chairs on either side were of the same. The only note of decoration was found in the vase of roses which stood beside the big closed Bible. A cottage organ supplied the music. But there was color in the congregation, for the younger women wore their best dresses and finest hats, and Winthrop concluded that all Corunna was at church. For awhile he interested himself in discovering acquaintances, many of them scarcely recognizable to-day in their black coats and air of devoutness. But the possibilities of that mode of amusement were soon exhausted, since the Wayne pew was well past the middle of the church. After the sermon began Winthrop listened to it for awhile. Probably it was a very excellent and passably interesting sermon, but the windows were wide open and the languorous air waved softly, warmly in, and Winthrop’s eyes grew heavier and heavier and the pulpit mistier and mistier and the parson’s voice lower and lower and....

He opened his eyes very suddenly, for Holly had reached forth and brought the toe of her shoe into sharp contact with his ankle. He turned to find her watching him with grave face and laughing eyes, and he looked his thanks. Then his eyes roved by to encounter the hostile stare of Julian, who had witnessed the incident and was jealously resenting the intimacy it denoted.

After church the party delayed at the door to greet their friends. Julian, with the easy courtesy that so well became him, shook hands with fully half the congregation, answering and asking questions in his pleasant, well-bred drawl. Winthrop wondered pessimistically if he had in mind the fact that in another year or so he would be dependent on these persons for his bread and butter. But Julian’s punctiliousness gave Winthrop his chance. Miss India and Holly had finished their share of the social event and had walked slowly out on to the porch, followed by Winthrop. Presently Julian emerged through the door in conversation with Mrs. Somes, and Winthrop turned to Holly.

“There comes your cousin,” he said. “Shall we start on ahead and let them follow?”

There was a little flicker of surprise in the brown eyes, followed by the merest suggestion of a smile. Then Holly moved toward the steps and Winthrop ranged himself beside her.