第44章

It was on such an evening as this, well on towards the last days of the spring, that Laura Dearborn and Page joined the Cresslers and their party, sitting out like other residents of the neighbourhood on the front steps of their house.Almost every evening nowadays the Dearborn girls came thus to visit with the Cresslers.

Sometimes Page brought her mandolin.

Every day of the warm weather seemed only to increase the beauty of the two sisters.Page's brown hair was never more luxuriant, the exquisite colouring of her cheeks never more charming, the boyish outlines of her small, straight figure--immature and a little angular as yet--never more delightful.The seriousness of her straight-browed, grave, grey-blue eyes was still present, but the eyes themselves were, in some indefinable way, deepening, and all the maturity that as yet was withheld from her undeveloped little form looked out from beneath her long lashes.

But Laura was veritably regal.Very slender as yet, no trace of fulness to be seen over hip or breast, the curves all low and flat, she yet carried her extreme height with tranquil confidence, the unperturbed assurance of a _chatelaine_ of the days of feudalism.

Her coal-black hair, high-piled, she wore as if it were a coronet.The warmth of the exuberant spring days had just perceptibly mellowed the even paleness of her face, but to compensate for this all the splendour of coming midsummer nights flashed from her deep-brown eyes.

On this occasion she had put on her coat over her shirt-waist, and a great bunch of violets was tucked into her belt.But no sooner had she exchanged greetings with the others and settled herself in her place than she slipped her coat from her shoulders.

It was while she was doing this that she noted, for the first time, Landry Court standing half in and half out of the shadow of the vestibule behind Mr.Cressler's chair.

"This is the first time he has been here since--since that night," Mrs.Cressler hastened to whisper in Laura's ear."He told me about--well, he told me what occurred, you know.He came to dinner to-night, and afterwards the poor boy nearly wept in my arms.You never saw such penitence."Laura put her chin in the air with a little movement of incredulity.But her anger had long since been a thing of the past.Good-tempered, she could not cherish resentment very long.But as yet she had greeted Landry only by the briefest of nods.

"Such a warm night!" she murmured, fanning herself with part of Mr.Cressler's evening paper."And I never was so thirsty.""Why, of course," exclaimed Mrs.Cressler."Isabel,"she called, addressing Miss Gretry, who sat on the opposite side of the steps, "isn't the lemonade near you? Fill a couple of glasses for Laura and Page."Page murmured her thanks, but Laura declined.

"No; just plain water for me," she said."Isn't there some inside? Mr.Court can get it for me, can't he?"Landry brought the pitcher back, running at top speed and spilling half of it in his eagerness.Laura thanked him with a smile, addressing him, however, by his last name.She somehow managed to convey to him in her manner the information that though his offence was forgotten, their old-time relations were not, for one instant, to be resumed.

Later on, while Page was thrumming her mandolin, Landry whistling a "second," Mrs.Cressler took occasion to remark to Laura:

"I was reading the Paris letter in the 'Inter-Ocean'

to-day, and I saw Mr.Corthell's name on the list of American arrivals at the Continental.I guess," she added, "he's going to be gone a long time.I wonder sometimes if he will _ever_ come back.A fellow with his talent, I should imagine would find Chicago--well, less congenial, anyhow, than Paris.But, just the same, I do think it was mean of him to break up our play by going.I'll bet a cookie that he wouldn't take part any more just because you wouldn't.He was just crazy to do that love scene in the fourth act with you.

And when _you_ wouldn't play, of course _he_ wouldn't;and then every-body seemed to lose interest with you two out.'J.' took it all very decently though, don't you think?"Laura made a murmur of mild assent.

"He was disappointed, too," continued Mrs.Cressler.

"I could see that.He thought the play was going to interest a lot of our church people in his Sunday-school.But he never said a word when it fizzled out.

Is he coming to-night?"

"Well I declare," said Laura."How should I know, if you don't?"Jadwin was an almost regular visitor at the Cresslers'

during the first warm evenings.He lived on the South Side, and the distance between his home and that of the Cresslers was very considerable.It was seldom, however, that Jadwin did not drive over.He came in his double-seated buggy, his negro coachman beside him the two coach dogs, "Rex" and "Rox," trotting under the rear axle.His horses were not showy, nor were they made conspicuous by elaborate boots, bandages, and all the other solemn paraphernalia of the stable, yet men upon the sidewalks, amateurs, breeders, and the like--men who understood good stock--never failed to stop to watch the team go by, heads up, the check rein swinging loose, ears all alert, eyes all alight, the breath deep, strong, and slow, and the stride, machine-like, even as the swing of a metronome, thrown out from the shoulder to knee, snapped on from knee to fetlock, from fetlock to pastern, finishing squarely, beautifully, with the thrust of the hoof, planted an instant, then, as it were, flinging the roadway behind it, snatched up again, and again cast forward.

On these occasions Jadwin himself inevitably wore a black "slouch" hat, suggestive of the general of the Civil War, a grey "dust overcoat" with a black velvet collar, and tan gloves, discoloured with the moisture of his palms and all twisted and crumpled with the strain of holding the thoroughbreds to their work.