"Well, a nice lot of family skeletons have had a good airing," said Palmer Dark.
"I haven't had as much fun since the dog-fight in church," said Artemas Dark.
"Aunt Becky never liked any of us, you know," said Hugh. "She's bound to get all the rises she can out of us."
"She isn't like any other woman," growled Drowned John.
"Nobody is," said Grundy.
"You don't know much about women, John," said Sim Dark.
No man can endure being told he knows nothing about women... especially if he has coffined two wives. Drowned John went into an icy rage.
"Well, I know something about YOU, Sim Dark, and if you don't stop circulating lies about me as you've been doing for years, you'll have to reckon with me."
"But surely you don't want me to tell the TRUTH about you," said Sim in bland amazement.
Drowned John did not reply in words... could not... since he dared not swear so near Aunt Becky. He simply spat.
"It's an outrageous way to leave the jug," growled William Y.
"You should be thankful she didn't make it a condition that everybody should turn a somersault in the church aisle," said Artemas. "She would if she'd thought of it."
"YOU would have liked that, I don't doubt," retorted William Y. "Grinning like a chessy cat over the very thought of it."
Oswald Dark turned around and surveyed the irritated William Y.
"Look at the moon," he said softly, waving his hand at a pale, silver bubble floating over the seaward valley. "Look at the moon," he repeated insistently, laying a long thin hand on the arm of William Y.
"Heavens, I've seen moons before... hundreds of them!" snorted William Y. peevishly.
"But can one see a thing of perfect beauty... like the moon... too often?" inquired Oswald, fixing his large agate eyes questioningly on William Y., who jerked his arm away and turned his back both on Oswald and his moon.
"That jug shouldn't be in a house where there is no responsible woman," said Denzil Penhallow sourly. Everybody knew that Mrs Dandy was as mad as a November partridge by spells.
"If any one has anything to say against my wife he'd better not let me hear him saying it," retorted Dandy ominously. "I'll smash his face for him."
"Any time and any place," said Denzil obligingly.
"Come, come, let us preserve decorum," implored Uncle Pippin nervously.
"Pippin, go home and soak your head in turpentine for three days," boomed Drowned John.
Uncle Pippin subsided. This, he reflected, was what came of Aunt Becky's not giving them anything to eat.
"Devil take the jug," he muttered.
"I doubt if the devil will be so obliging," said the irrepressible Grundy.
The women were coming out now and the men went off to get car or horse, according to purse or age. Tempest Dark, who was walking, sauntered out of the gate, reflecting that he wanted to see this comedy played out. He would live long enough to see who got the jug.
Titus Dark on the way home was importuned by a tearful wife to give up swearing.
"Damn it, I can't," groaned Titus. "And I ain't the only one in the tribe that swears. Take Drowned John."
"Drowned John knows when and when not to swear and you don't," sobbed Mrs Titus. "It's only for a year and a quarter, Titus. You MUST. Dandy'll never give us the jug if you don't."
"I don't believe Dandy'll have a thing to say about it. Aunt Becky wouldn't let any one else decide that," said Titus. "I'd just go for months in misery and not get a da... ... not get a blessed thing out of it. Besides, Mary, how is any one going to live with me if I can't swear? When I swear for ten minutes on end a child could eat out of my hand. Isn't that better than bottling it up and thinking murder? Take this horse now. I've just gotter swear at him or he'd never travel. If I talked anything else to him he wouldn't understand what I was saying."
However, Titus had to promise to try. It would, he reflected, be damned hard. These women were so damned unreasonable. But he'd have a go at it, damned if he wouldn't. The race for the jug was on and the devil take the hindmost.
Gay slipped away alone. She knew a certain little ferny corner down the side road where she meant to stop and read Noel's letter. She looked so happy that the Moon Man shook his head at her.
"Take care," he whispered warningly. "It's dangerous to be too happy... those that sit in the high places don't like it. Look how they hide my Lady from me so much of the time."
But Gay only laughed at him and ran on down the side path and out by the side gate under the apple blossoms. Gay loved apple blossoms. It always hurt her that they lasted such a little while... such milky, wonderful things with hearts of love's own hue. To be sure, the roses came afterwards. But if one could only have the apple blossoms and the roses, too. Gay felt greedy of beauty. She wanted every kind all at once, now when life itself seemed just on the point of breaking into some marvellous blossom and all the coming days were in a hurry to be born. Youth is like that. It wants everything at once, not realizing that something must be saved for autumn days. Save? Nonsense! Pour it all out now, a libation to the approaching god. Gay did not think this... she only felt it, hurrying down the road, as sweet and virginal as the apple blossoms.
"A nice little cuddler that, if you ask me," chuckled Stanton Grundy admiringly, giving Uncle Pippin a dig in the ribs.
"I'm not asking you," said Uncle Pippin irritably. HE had a sense of the fitness of things. Poke fun at old maids and fat married women if you like, but leave young things like Gay alone. Grundy's vulgar chuckle seemed to debase everything. Hadn't that man ANY reverence for anything? And why didn't he read a few halitosis advertisements? Heaven knew the magazines were full of them.
Gay read her letter in her ferny corner and kissed it and put it back in her bosom. There was only one terrible thing in it. Noel said he could not come out till Saturday. They were going to be extra busy in the bank. Had she to live three whole days without seeing him? Could she? A little cluster of silver daisies growing by a lichened old stone nodded at her. She picked one of them... witch daisies that knew whether your sweetheart loved you or not. Too-wise daisies. Gay pulled away the tiny ivory petals one by one... he loves me... he loves me not... he loves me. Gay took out the letter again and kissed it and put the torn daisy petals into it. She was young and pretty and very much in love. And he loved her. The daisies said so. What a world! The poor old Moon Man! As if one could be too happy! As if God didn't like to see you happy! Why, people were made for happiness. And wasn't it the most miraculous thing that out of all the world she and Noel should have met and loved! When there were so many other girls he might have fancied. She seemed to be at the very heart of some exquisite magic that had changed everything in life for her.
XIII
Donna came out beside Virginia. She had begun to collect her wits, but she did not quite know yet exactly what had taken place. She knew Peter was sitting on the railing, and she meant to sweep past him haughtily in all her dark dignity of widowhood, with lids cast down. But as she passed him she had to look up. They had another momentary unforgettable exchange of eyes. Virginia saw it this time and was vaguely disturbed by it. It did not look like a glance of hatred. She clutched Donna's arm as they went down the steps.
"Donna, I believe that pig of a Peter is falling in love with you."
"Oh... do you think so... DO you really think so?" said Donna. Virginia could not understand her tone at all. But it MUST be a horrified one.
"I'm afraid so. Wouldn't it be terrible for you? What a blessing he's leaving for South America to-night. Just THINK what it would be like to have him trying to make love to you."
Donna DID think of it. A strange shiver of terror and delight went over her from head to foot. She felt thankful that Drowned John bellowed to her that instant to hurry up. She fled to his car, leaving a puzzled and somewhat alarmed Virginia on the steps. WHAT had come over Donna?