“Now, you run along down the beach, Bess, an’ I’ll sit here a spell with Phenie!”
“I’m sure I’d be all right all alone,” protested Little Invalid feebly, looking nervously about at the fast-gathering groups of chattering people. However Bessie and Henny seemed to know very much better than this, and with her smile that was like gravity Bessie moved reluctantly away.
Fancy that situation. Little Invalid could not be carried to the sands, and those two old-young married people meant to spend their “honeymoon” in taking turns at visiting the beach. I looked at Pelleas and his face made the expression which means an alarm, for something to be done at once.
“Why,” I asked casually, “don’t you both go down to the beach and let us sit here awhile?” For to tell the truth the journey by the train had tired me more than I cared to confess.
I remember how Pelleas once sent two incredibly dirty little boys into the circus at the Garden, and save then I really think that I never saw such sudden happiness in the face of any one.
“Were—were you goin’ to sit here anyway, ma’am?” Bessie asked, trying as heroically to conceal her joy as if it had been tears.
“Yes,” I assured her shamelessly, and really I was over-tired. “Stay as long as ever you like,” I said.
“O, ma’am,” said Henny with shining eyes, “thank you! And thank you, sir!”
“Pooh!” said Pelleas gruffly and thrust my sunshade in his hands.
Off they went down the beach, Shabby Neatness hanging on her husband’s arm in a fashion which I cannot call deplorable, and her husband looking down at her adoringly. Before they disappeared past the pavilion we all waved our hands. And then to my amazement I saw tears on the face of Little Invalid.