Not Pretty, but Precious | Page 8

was she dying of
a broken heart because a treacherous woman had fooled her out of a
part of her life? Poor little robin! she was his wife now, and he could
heal the worst heartache in any woman's breast. He had tried that thing
before, and succeeded, even if he broke the heart afterward. Die, indeed!
Not if he knew it: even Death should not have a little woman he meant
to be good to.
And as he remembered all her faithfulness to him during these weary
weeks of pain, he thought, "By Jove! beauty's not all, for no woman,
had her face been like that of Phryne of Thebes, or her charms as
entrancing as the bewitching Dudu's, could have been more lovely in
her kindness to me. How brave and strong she has been! What a
faithful little soul it is! Always ready, day and night, to do just what I
want done and in the way I want it, never knocking things about or
fidgeting round, but just ready-handed, neat and bright. God knows, a
handsome woman wouldn't have risked the spoiling her beauty by all
these weary, sleepless nights, especially for a man she did not love."
And then to think she was actually willing to work and slave for him,
and support him out of her share of the booty, and let him fool away his
own on other women! "Wonder what the little dame means to buy her
own fine things with, for even robins must get clothing? I'll ask her that.
Bless the little woman's soul! she makes me think of her so much that I
believe I'm half in love with her. Um!" and he stopped: "I'm getting
sentimental and poetic, I swear! But if it were in me to love anything

that was not beautiful, I believe I could love this little girl, who has
come into my life so strangely. She owns up to having loved, and is
done with all the stale farce. Some fools," and he felt very indignant,
"slighted her because she had no beauty, though, upon my soul, now I
think of it, I'm not so certain about that. There's a something in her face
takes a man's breath--something that one would rather die than lose if
he once loved it, and which once loved would be better than any beauty.
What's that Spenser says?--
'A sweet, attractive kind of grace,... The lineaments of gospel books,'
That's just it: it's a look that makes one think about one's prayers, if one
only knew them. But whether the man slighted her or not, he missed
it--confound him!--in losing such a love. I'll make her tell me his name.
And as for being my sister, that's all nonsense, of course, as she's my
wife." Then more thoughtfully, "Well, maybe not: a household where
there is no love is cruel--I knew that in my early home--and children
are a beastly trouble, and as expensive as a man's wines. She's a brick,
this wife of mine, and as sensible as steel. I'll put myself in her hands
for better or for worse, I vow I will!
"The jolly way she manged that Rollins affair was proof poz of her
ability. Her cool assumption of wifely dignity--her actually bringing
them up to see me without announcing their coming to me, and never
letting them have one bout at me, was beyond anything! It's like a dip
in the sea to recall it all. Her breezy voice coming in before them was
all the warning I had: 'Oh certainly, you can come up and look at him,
but not talk to him: he's nervous and feverish, and I cannot permit even
such old friends as you doubtless are to say anything to him. You know,
of course, the doctor thought he needed constant attention, and caused
us to hurry our marriage in a most Gretna-Green style; but I could not
nurse him unless we were married. And it did not matter so much, after
all, since we had loved'--and she hesitated with the prettiest affectation
of having said something she ought not--'we had cared for each other
since we were quite children. Ross's sister Bell was my school-friend.'
Then she brought them straight to the bed, and stooping down gave me
the only kiss with which she has honored me--her show kiss, I call

it--saying, 'My darling' (how soft she said it, too, with a little trilling
cadence upon the sweet old word!)--'My darling, you are not to speak,
or even look, save this once: now I must cover up my dearie's eyes;'
and she laid her cool hand over my eyes and held it there while they
stayed. 'These are some kind New York friends, Mr. Rollins and his
good wife'--and a