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Updated: May 12, 2025
"We'll go up," said Carlyle. They ascended the hill in silence, Ardita's hand still resting in Carlyle's as it had when they finished dancing. She felt it clinch nervously from time to time as though he were unaware of the contact, but though he hurt her she made no attempt to remove it.
And with the long, sunny hours Ardita's idea of the episode as incidental, madcap, a sprig of romance in a desert of reality, gradually left her. She dreaded the time when he would strike off southward; she dreaded all the eventualities that presented themselves to her; thoughts were suddenly troublesome and decisions odious.
Ardita lifted her head and listened. "Carrots and Peas, Beans on their knees, Pigs in the seas, Lucky fellows! Blow us a breeze, Blow us a breeze, Blow us a breeze, With your bellows." Ardita's brow wrinkled in astonishment. Sitting very still she listened eagerly as the chorus took up a second verse. "Onions and beans, Marshalls and Deans, Goldbergs and Greens And Costellos.
When the sun cleared the port-hole of Ardita's cabin an hour after dawn she rose cheerily, donned her bathing-suit, and went up on deck. The negroes would leave their work when they saw her, and crowd, chuckling and chattering, to the rail as she floated, an agile minnow, on and under the surface of the clear water.
Farnam's mouth dropped a little open as he waited, panic-stricken, for the expected crash. But it did not come. Ardita's face became suddenly radiant, and with a little laugh she went swiftly to young Moreland and looked up at him without a trace of wrath in her gray eyes. "Will you swear," she said quietly "That it was entirely a product of your own brain?"
He drew up before them and gasped out his news in a breath. "Ship stan'in' off sho' 'bout half a mile suh. Mose, he uz on watch, he say look's if she's done ancho'd." "A ship what kind of a ship?" demanded Carlyle anxiously. Dismay was in his voice, and Ardita's heart gave a sudden wrench as she saw his whole face suddenly droop. "He say he don't know, suh." "Are they landing a boat?" "No, suh."
They floated out like drifting moths under the rich hazy light, and as the fantastic symphony wept and exulted and wavered and despaired Ardita's last sense of reality dropped away, and she abandoned her imagination to the dreamy summer scents of tropical flowers and the infinite starry spaces overhead, feeling that if she opened her eyes it would be to find herself dancing with a ghost in a land created by her own fancy.
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