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"With pleasure," said Rose. And then: "Oh, if you like."--"Well, only
one more round one."--"I belong to the house, and must distribute
myself."--"No, no, that's enough; leave room for all the nice girls I
am going to introduce you to--Miss Alice Urquhart--Mr Breen, dear--
Mrs Simpson's nephew, and a friend of mine in town."
It slipped out unawares. Peter's air, as he scribbled "Miss Urquhart"
on his card, was seraphic. Later, Alice snatched a chance to whisper to
Rose: "What a good-looking fellow! Who is he?" And Rose hastened to
explain that she knew him only very slightly.
They had their first waltz together, and he danced delightfully. This
was a fresh agreeable surprise to Rose--as if drapers did not take
dancing lessons and make use of them like other people; she was almost
indiscreet in her eulogies on his performance. But there was not room
for all, or half, or a quarter, to dance at once; and the crowded house
was hot, and the night outside soft, dry, delicious; and the Five
Creeks garden was simply made to be sat out in.
So presently Rose and Peter found themselves leaning over a gate at the
end of a long, sequestered path.
"That," said Rose, nodding towards open paddock, "is the boys' cricket
ground. They play matches in the holidays with the stations round. That
fence leads to Alice's fowl-yards--"
"Yes," said Peter. "But now, look here, Miss Rose--tell me straight
and true--am I to understand that my position in life makes me
unfit to associate with you?"
"What nonsense!" she protested, scarlet in the darkness. "What utter
stuff!"
"I am in retail trade," confessed Peter mournfully, "and lots of people
think that awful. Why, even the bookmakers and Jew usurers look down on
us! Not that I care a straw--"
"I should think not!"
"Except when it comes to your family--"
"What does it matter about my family--when I--"
"Ah, do you? Do you forgive me for being a shopkeeper?"
"As if I ever thought of it!" mocked Rose, which was disingenuous of
her. "I don't mind what anybody is if he's nice himself."
"Do you think I'm nice?"
"I am not going to pander to such egregious vanity."
"Do you think I am a gentleman? Do I pass for one--say, in a house
like this?"
"I am not going to answer any more of those horrid, indelicate,
unnecessary questions."
"Ah, I see--you don't."
"I DO," she flamed out, indignant with him. "You KNOW I do! Would I--
if I didn't--"
Her mouth was stopped. In the twinkling of an eye it happened, before
either of them knew it. He was carried away, and she was overwhelmed.
An earthquake could not have given them a greater shock.
"Forgive me," he muttered tremulously, when it was too late. "I know I
oughtn't to have--but I couldn't help it! You are not angry? It was
dashed impudence--but--oh, I say! we shall never get such a
chance as this again--could you, do you think, put up with me? Could
you--I have loved you ever since that dear morning that you came about
Bruce--could you try to care for me a little bit? I'd give up the
business, if you wished, and go into something else--" "If you mention
that blessed business again," laughed Rose hysterically, "I won't speak
to you any more."
"I won't--I won't!" he promised, a joyful ring in his young voice. "As
long as you don't mind--and of course I wouldn't like to disappoint
the old pater--and, thank God, there's plenty of money to make you
comfortable wherever you like to live--Yes, yes, I know it's awful
cheek--I've no business to count chickens like this; but here we are,
face to face at last, no one to keep me from speaking to you--and oh,
darling, it must be time for the next dance, and I'm engaged for it--"
"Then go--go," she urged. "The one after this is ours, and I will wait
here for you till you come back. It is only Jim, and he doesn't matter.
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Cambridge, Ada, 1844-1926 - Sisters