The Green Dolphin
Then without warning he spied the woman!
She was, as it happened, washing dishes, but she might as well have
been gathering the apples of the Hesperides, so glorified seemed her
task.
Meantime Abbie, Zenas Henry’s wife, came forward.
“Good-mornin’, Asaph,” ejaculated she. “Why, we haven’t seen you for
weeks. Where have you been keepin’ yourself? Pity Zenas Henry or the
Captains ain’t in. They were speakin’ of you only the other day. Draw
up a chair. I want to make you acquainted with my friend Althea Morton
who’s up from Provincetown visitin’ me.”
In a haze of wonder such as that in which Adam must have first surveyed
Eve, Asaph turned toward the woman. He had, however, one advantage over
his distinguished progenitor--he had previously beheld the sex. But
alas! his superiority did him no good for the woman he now confronted
was like unto no other woman he had ever set eyes upon.
Not that she was so different in appearance, although with her bright
color, vivacity, encouraging smile, and well-proportioned figure she
presented a bewildering ensemble. The characteristic he found novel
and appealing was the gracious simplicity with which she welcomed
him. Females were wont to scent out the fact that he was shy in
their presence and make scant effort to draw him out. But this one
either failed to recognize his limitations or, having detected them,
overleaped them as matters of no consequence. Never had he been
approached with such a degree of understanding, never addressed with
so much courtesy and ease. Under the genial spell he waxed fluent or
thought he did until he afterward discovered that it was Circe and
not he who had done the talking. But he could have talked, that was
the miracle. His tongue was unloosed and to its tip came a score of
observations he might have uttered had the conversation lagged.
Half an hour later he drove home conscious that he had been transformed
into another being altogether. The silent, serene man who had gone to
Wilton to bargain for wood--where was he?
Next day he went to the Brewsters’ again, having recollected that he
had forgotten in his confusion to stipulate that he wished the wood
split, and once more he beheld Althea Morton. How full of spirit she
was! How wholesome and natural! He could not recall ever having met so
enthralling a woman. Asaph’s mental processes, however, were slow and
therefore the possibility of securing the continual companionship of
this peerless creature did not occur to him until a fortnight later,
during which interval he had repeatedly pondered on what a desirable
wife Althea would make for some lonely, quiet man like himself. How her
alert, ingratiating personality would enliven a home! Then gradually
out of these abstractions the realization took form that he was quiet
and lonely and Althea Morton might enliven him. It was a new and
disturbing idea yet withal a pleasant one. Idly conceived, it grew
until it assumed such compelling force that might became must and Asaph
set resolutely to work to possess himself of this gem of womanhood.
There was nothing to hinder the marriage, for he was well-to-do and
his solitary home stood ready to receive a mistress. Moreover, he had
neither kith nor kin to oppose the match. There was no one to object,
no one to rate the inspiration as preposterous except Lemuel Gill.
Here Asaph paused, his enthusiasm experiencing a check.
What was Lemmy going to think of the amazing move--Lemmy, who up to
the present moment had been the paramount consideration of his life?
He knew all too well without asking and if he entertained doubts he
could have them forever set at rest by inquiring, for not only was
Lemmy honesty itself but between the two men existed a friendship tough
of fibre and redolent with frankness. Lemmy could be depended upon to
state without reserve exactly what his opinion of the venture was.
Then of a sudden it came over Asaph that he did not want to know
what Lemuel thought, did not care. Should his crony’s judgment be
unfavorable to the plan it would in no way hinder it. It would merely
create disagreement and hard feeling. For Lemuel would disapprove, that
he knew perfectly well. Had they not often exchanged felicitations
on their untrammeled independence and dwelt with satisfaction on the
compensations of single blessedness?
Furthermore, his friend knew him through and through and was acquainted
with every quirk of his character--his absorption in books, his
horticultural bent, his unmethodical habits. These idiosyncrasies he
would feel it his Christian duty to drag into the daylight as barriers
to any matrimonial enterprise.
Indeed Asaph himself had been obliged to acknowledge there was
something to be said for such arguments. Having granted this, however,
he considered he had done all that honesty required and finding the
facts disagreeable he forthwith swept them aside. Much better reflect
on Althea and her varied charms.
But although he valiantly attempted to do this the thought of Lemmy
Gill would persist. It was going to be awkward to explain his change
of heart to Lemuel; to make clear just why he, who had revelled
in pursuing his tastes unmolested, should now prefer a stranger’s
continual companionship. Besides, Lemmy was sensitive and easily
aggrieved. It was going to cut him to the quick to have a third person
come between them.
Asaph frowned.
The entanglement in which he found himself was embarrassing and
unluckily it was not one from which Hannah Dole could deliver him. He
must face the perplexity alone.
He admitted it was only just, only decent, to consult Lemmy before
taking a step so revolutionary. Why, the two had never so much as
planted a rose-bush without first discussing for a good half-day all
the pros and cons of the project. But with regard to this larger and
more vital issue he confessed, after searching examination, he had not
the courage to take Lemuel into his confidence. He was determined to
wed Althea Morton whether or no, with Lemuel’s consent or without it.
That was what the matter sifted down to.
The discovery of this monstrous breach of friendship appalled and
dismayed him. What enchantment was upon him? What magic spell? It was
the first time during the long span of years they had known one another
that he had ever kept a secret from Lemuel Gill.
CHAPTER II
Asaph’s mighty secret would have been less easy to guard had Althea
Morton been staying at Belleport, for gossip travels quickly in a small
Cape Cod village and before a day had elapsed all the town would have
been cognizant of the romance. As it was his pilgrimages to Wilton had
to be explained.
“I’m negotiatin’ with Zenas Henry about some wood,” announced he in
offhand fashion at the post-office, and forthwith the excuse sped about
the hamlet and further speculation was silenced.
But to satisfy Lemuel Gill’s curiosity was not such a simple matter.
Friendship granted him the privilege of asking questions, any number of
them, and no snub or subtle display of reticence discouraged him in the
least.
“Goin’ over to Zenas Henry’s about that load of wood again?” queried
he. “But you’ve been to the Brewsters’ about that blamed wood twice
already. What you goin’ a third time for?”
The sharp little eyes bored like gimlets through his colleague.
Nevertheless there was nothing offensive in Lemuel’s gaze. He was
interested, that was all, and the inquisitiveness he now manifested
was no greater than that in which he had habitually indulged for
the past quarter of a century. Under other circumstances Asaph would
scarce have noticed it or would even have welcomed the interrogations,
cheerfully replying to them with a good-humored grin and a statement
as to his exact reason for making another journey to the adjoining
village. Furthermore he would, in all probability, have urged Lemuel to
accompany him.
But today he did none of these things.
Instead he flushed irritably and tried to shift the conversation into
another channel.
“So I have,” he murmured. “Still, you can’t get nothin’ in this world
without takin’ some trouble about it.”
“But a load of wood,--” pressed Lemuel. “Why ’tain’t worth goin’ eight
miles for once, let alone travellin’ the distance three times. You’ll
double its cost in wear to your wagon.”
“Mebbe. Still the ride’s a pleasant one an’--”
“Oh, if you’re just goin’ a-ridin’!” sniffed the inquisitor. “But with
the work you’ve got laid out--cultivatin’, weedin’ an’ the like, I
didn’t look for you to go ridin’ out. You said yesterday you figgered
on sprayin’ your roses this mornin’.”
“So I did! So I did,” hedged Asaph.
“You certainly don’t expect to do it when you get back; ’twill be near
noon.”
“Likely I may not be gone that long an’ if I am I can do my sprayin’
tomorrow.”
“You told me I could use the sprayer tomorrow,” came from Lemmy in an
aggrieved tone.
“You can an’ welcome.”
“But I’ve no notion of borrowin’ it when you’re plannin’ to use it
yourself.”
“I can wait. It don’t matter a mite when I do my roses.”
Through wide-open blue eyes Lemuel Gill scanned his friend’s
countenance.
“Why, Asaph Holmes, you were declarin’ not three days ago that every
one of them roses in that front bed bid fair to be et up by aphids
unless you got after ’em straight away.”
In sickly fashion Asaph grinned.
“I reckon I was sorter het up when I made that statement, Lemmy.”
“Still, there’s aphids on your Dorothy Perkins’s. I saw ’em myself.”
“I’m goin’ to tend to ’em.”
“When?”
“Late this afternoon, mebbe.”
“’Tain’t good to spray roses toward nightfall. You read that to me out
of one of your clippin’s once and cautioned me against doin’ it.”
“Did I? I’ve got so many of them confounded clippin’s I can’t for the
life of me remember what half of ’em say.”
The jauntiness of the tone more than the words that accompanied it
caught Lemuel’s attention, and spreading his legs far apart, he riveted
his eyes on his comrade’s face.
“Say, Asaph, what’s the matter with you anyway?” he demanded.
Here was Asaph Holmes’s golden opportunity! If he was ever going to
impart to Lemmy Gill the great tidings of his contemplated change of
plans, a natural opening now presented itself. In one sentence he could
clear his conscience of the load that weighed it down. The secret
trembled on the tip of his tongue. He glanced furtively at Lemmy.
Standing there in the sunshine, his eyes starry with curiosity and his
sandy hair up-ended in the breeze, his crony’s short figure appeared
ridiculously youthful--too youthful to be entrusted with such important
intelligence. Moreover, Asaph remembered his artlessness, and how prone
he was to prattle ingenuously to the first person he met any news that
interested him. No, he dared not impart so fragile a tale as his love
affair to Lemuel. Indeed, when all was said and done, what was it but
a dream, a mad and beautiful imagining? Why, he had only seen Althea
Morton twice! On the strength of those two short interviews it would be
preposterous to assert he was going to marry her.
Therefore he fumbled with the button on his cuff and responded
nonchalantly:
“Nothin’ in the world. Mebbe after all I had better put off the Wilton
trip till afternoon an’ do my sprayin’ now.”
“You’d much better,” beamed Lemuel, wholly satisfied. “Delay goin’ till
after dinner an’ I’ll flax round an’ go with you.”
“Oh, I’ll have to be leavin’ before that time,” Asaph hastened to
protest. “I’ve got a peck of errands to do. Were I to wait till noon I
wouldn’t get ’em done before nightfall.”
“What you goin’ to buy?” asked Lemmy, too much interested to let the
rebuff he had received ruffle him.
“Collars, chicken-feed--lots of things.”
“Goin’ to get ’em at Wilton?”