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She flushed a little, but not with offence, apparently; and she was kinder to Mavering, and let him do everything for her that he could invent in transferring the things from the wagons to the rocks. The party gave a gaiety to the wild place which accented its proper charm, as they scattered themselves over the ledges on the bright shawls spread upon the level spaces.
Once agreeing that no one was good enough for Alice Pasmer, whose qualities they felt that only women could really appreciate, they were interested to see how near Mavering could come to being good enough; and as the drama played itself before their eyes, they pleased themselves in analysing its hero.
He had to learn later from his wife's more elicit fury what the women had all known instantly. He showed his usefulness in gathering Alice up and getting her to her mother's room. "Oh, Mrs. Brinkley," implored Mrs. Pasmer, following her to the door, "is Mr. Mavering coming here?" "I don't know I can't say I haven't read the letter yet." "Oh, do let me know when you've read it, won't you?
"I thought it was you as I passed," said Boardman, "but I couldn't make sure so dark back here." "And I thought it was you, but I couldn't believe it," said Mavering, with equal force, cutting short an interior conversation with Mr. Pasmer, which had begun to hold itself since his first glimpse of Boardman. "I came down here to do a sort of one-horse yacht race to-day," Boardman explained.
But I presume that unnatural supremacy of the young men is brought low, so to speak, after marriage?" Mrs. Primer let herself go a little further. "Oh, give us an equal chance," she laughed, "and we can always take care of ourselves, and something more. They say," she added, "that the young married women now have all the attention that girls could wish." "H'm!" said Mr. Mavering, frowning.
"Afraid!" cried the girl, with passionate solemnity. "I shall never feel safe away from you!" The door opened upon the sound of voices, and the others came in. Mrs. Pasmer did not wait for an introduction, but with an affectation of impulse which she felt Mrs. Mavering would penetrate and respect, she went up to the bed and presented herself.
"It didn't hurt him a bit," said Mavering, pushing him. "He liked it." "Of course he did," said Mrs. Pasmer, implying, in flattery of Mavering, that Boardman might be glad of the distinction; and now Boardman looked as if he were not. She began to get away in adding, "But I wonder you don't kill each other." "Oh, we're not so easily killed," said Mavering.
This reminded her to ask if he had seen the Saintsburys lately, and he said, No; he believed they were still in Cambridge, though. "And we shall actually see a young man," she said finally, "in the act of deciding his own destiny!" He laughed for pleasure in her persiflage. "Yes; only don't give me away. Nobody else knows it." "Oh no, indeed. Too much flattered, Mr. Mavering.
One of the negroes was singing to the banjo, and another began to do the rheumatic uncle's breakdown. Mavering said to himself: "I can't stand that. Oh, what a fool I am! Alice, I love you. O merciful heavens! O infernal jackass! Ow! Gaw!" At the bow of the boat he found a gang of Italian labourers returning to the States after some job in the Provinces.
But I'm in for it now, and I'll go." Then he bought his ticket. Boardman put himself in charge of Mavering, and took him into the smoking car. It was impossible to indulge a poetic gloom there without becoming unpleasantly conspicuous in the smoking and euchre and profanity.
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