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At lunch, the next day, a day when Penton was called in to Philadelphia on business while Darrie, Ruth, Hildreth and I sat talking together peacefully about our outdoor board, Hildreth suddenly threw a third of a glass of milk on Darrie's shirt-waist front. We were astounded. "Why, Hildreth, what does this mean?" I asked. I want to be let alone." And Hildreth hurried away.
"Who's down there?" asked Darrie's voice, with a dash of hysteria in it ... of hysteria and fright. "Damn it, there's Darrie waked up." "Such a clatter would wake anyone up!" "Who's there, I say!" "It's only me, Darrie ... I got hungry in the night and came up to the house to snatch a bite to eat." "Oh ... I'm coming down to join you, then."
You'll be falling in love with Penton Baxter's wife yet!" Our talk was halted by Darrie's re-appearance. Hildreth came furtively back, too, from the little cottage, like a guilty child. She apologized to Darrie, and her apology was accepted, and, in a few minutes we were talking ahead as gaily as before....
"Sit down in the morris chair ... you look dusty and heated ... I'll entertain you ... I'm all alone ... Penton is dictating an article to Ruth. Darrie's washing her hair. I'm the only member of the Leisure Class. I'm lazing here, reading Gorky's latest novel." What an engaging, pretty, naïve, little woman this was! I commented inwardly.
My heart almost burst with happiness within me, as those tiny hands, that had run through my hair and been so wonderful with me ... hands that I had kissed and fondled in secret joined in unison with Penton's and Darrie's and Ruth's hand-claps.
"The yokels," and Darrie's nostrils flared, her blue blood showing, "to dare even think of such an action, against their betters!" We lit a roaring log fire. We sat reading aloud from Shelley. As the hours drew by ... eight ... nine ... ten ... eleven ... there is no doubt that our nerves grew to a very fine edge.... And at twelve o'clock
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