People of the Whirlpool by Mabel Osgood Wright (reading in the dark .txt) 📖

to me, "The Deluge," as he picked up the card and read aloud, "Mr. and Mrs. Martin Cortright!" It was the card that Richard had printed several days before and carried in strange company in his warm, mussy little pocket ever since.

There was tense silence, and then a shout, as Martin took his wife's hand that wore the wedding ring and laid it on mine; then he and father fairly hugged each other, for father did not forget those long-ago days of the strawberries that Martin could not gather.

When the excitement had subsided and dinner was over, Martha and Tim, to whom the horse matter had been explained, came over to offer their congratulations,--at least Martha did. Timothy merely grinned, and, to the best of my belief, winked slyly at Martin, as much as to say, "We may be long in knowing our minds, but when we men are ready, the weemen fair tumble over us."

"Indeed, mum, but I wish you joy, and that he'll lead you as easy a life as Tim'thy here does me, 'deed I do, and _no_ disrespeck intended," was Martha's parting sentence; and then our wonder as to whether Martin was going to town, or what, was cut short by his rising, looking at his watch, and saying in the most matter-of-fact way to Lavinia: "Is your bag ready? You know we leave in an hour."

"Does Lucy expect you?" I ventured to ask.

"Oh no, I shall not trouble her until the day appointed. We shall go to the Manhattan, I think."

"How about your cousin Lydia?" asked father, who could not resist a chance to tease.

"I forgot all about her!" exclaimed poor Lavinia, clasping her hands tragically and looking really conscience-stricken. "And I," said Evan, who had suddenly jumped up and rammed his hand into his side pocket, "forgot to post your letter to her!"

* * * * *

_October_ 31. We have all been to New York to visit the runaway Cortrights, as Evan calls them, now that they are settled, and it is pleasant to see that so much belated happiness is possible. The fate of Lavinia's house is definitely arranged; they will remain in "Greenwich Village," in spite of all advice to move up in town. The defunct back yard is being covered by an extension that will give Martin a fine library, with a side window and a scrap of balcony, while the ailantus tree is left, that bob-tailed Josephus may not be deprived of the feline pleasures of the street or his original way of reaching it over the side fence; and the flower garden that was, will be the foundation of a garden of books under the kindly doctrine of compensation.

Above is to be a large guest room for Sylvia and Horace, or Evan and me, so that there will be room in plenty when by and by we bring the boys to see our New York.

Mrs. Jenks-Smith, who has formed a sincere attachment to Lavinia Cortright, did all in her power to persuade her to be her neighbour up in town, offering a charming house at a bargain and many advantages. Finally becoming piqued at the refusal, she said:--

"Why will you be so stupid? Don't you know that this out-of-the-way street is in the social desert?"

"It may be in a desert, as you say," said Lavinia, gently, "but we mean at least to make it an oasis for our friends who are weary of the whirling of the pool."

* * * * *

We stood looking at the boys as they slept tonight. Strange thoughts will crop up at times most unexpectedly. Horns blowing on the highway proclaimed the late arrival of a coaching party at the Bluffs. "Would you like to have money if you could, and go about the world when and where you please?" I asked Evan, but he, shaking his head, drew me towards him, answering my question with another--

"Would you, or why do you ask?"

I never thought that Mrs. Jenks-Smith's stricture would turn to a prayer upon my lips, but before I knew it I whispered, "God keep us comfortably poor."

Then Ian, feeling our presence, raised himself in sleepy leisure, and nestling his cheek against my dress said, "Barbara, _please_ give Ian a drink of water."


Imprint

Publication Date: 09-23-2009

All Rights Reserved