Chapter XXIII

by Susan Glaspell

　　In temporary relaxation from the stress of that mood she was glad to seeher friend Major Darrett.

　　He did not suggest the woe of the world. Because the big new things hadbecome—for the moment, at least—too much for her, there was rest in theshelter of the small familiar things.

　　So much of the unknown had been beating against her that she was glad fora little laughing respite in the known.

　　He stood for a world she knew how to deal with. In that he seemed tooffer shelter; not that he would be able to do it for long.

　　He always roused a particular imp in Katie which wanted to beflirtatious. She found now, with a certain relief, that the grave thingsof life had not exterminated that imp. She would scarcely have feltacquainted with herself had it perished.

　　And because she was so pleased to find it alive she let it grow verylive indeed.

　　Ann and Worth had been gone for five days. Ann had seemed to like theidea of going. She said she would be glad to be alone for a time and"rest up," as she vaguely put it. Katie told her that when she came backthey would make some plans; and she told her she was not to worry aboutthings; that everything was going to be all right.

　　Ann received it with childlike trust. She seemed to think that it wasall in Katie's hands, to accept with a child's literalness that Katiewould not let the old things come back, that she would "shut the door intheir face."

　　Other things were in Katie's hands that day: preparations for a bigdinner they were giving that night.

　　It was for some cavalry people who were stopping there. And in additionto the cavalry officers and their wives there was a staff officer fromWashington who was valuable to Wayne just then. Katie was anxious thatthe dinner be a success. She was glad Major Darrett was there. He went along way toward assuring its success.

　　And Zelda Fraser was with the party. Katie had seen her for a moment thatmorning, and would see her again at night. She was stopping with CarolineOsborne, whom she had known at school.

　　Zelda did not suggest the woe of the world. Neither did she suggest thedreams of the world.

　　It was early in the afternoon and the Major and Katie were havinga conference. He was acquainted with the palate of the visitingstaff officer, and was assuring Katie that she was on the way tohis good graces.

　　They had gone into the library, where Katie was arranging flowers. Heoffered a suggestion there, too. He had an intuitive knowledge of suchthings, seemed to be guided by inner promptings as to which bowl shouldhold the lavender sweet peas and which the pink ones.

　　Though Katie disputed his judgment, glad to be on ground where she coulddispute with assurance. They argued it hotly, as if sweet peas were themost vital things in the world. It was good to be venting all one'sfeeling on things so tangible and knowable as sweet peas.

　　Her dinner safe in the hands of experts, Katie made herself comfortableand told her friend the Major that she wished now to be put in abrilliant mood. That a brilliant mood was the one thing the skilledlaborers in possession of her house could not furnish.

　　He gallantly defied any laborer in the world to be so skilled as to get

　　Katie out of a brilliant mood.

　　She told him that was silly, that she had grown very stupid.

　　He challenged her to prove it.

　　Katie felt very much at home with him; not merely at home with him theindividual, but comfortably at home with the things he represented. Itgave her a nice homelike feeling to be flirting with him.

　　And flirting with him herself, she grew interested in all those otherswho had flirted with him—she knew they were legion. She seemed to seethem off there in the background—a lovely group of spoiled darlings. Shedid not suppose many of them were much the worse for having flirted withMajor Darrett. Suddenly she laughed and told him she regarded him as oneof the great educators of the age. He wanted to know in what way he wasa great educator. Katie would not tell him. There ensued a gay discussionfrom which she emerged feeling as if she had had a cocktail.

　　And looking that way; looking, at least so he seemed to think, from themanner in which he leaned forward regarding her—most attractive, hercheeks so pink, her eyes dancing a little dance of defiance at him, andon her lips a mocking little smile, more sophisticated than any smile hehad ever seen before on Katie's lips. "Katie of the laughing eyes"—hehad once called her. She was leaning back lazily, a suggestion ofinsolence in her assurance. As she leaned back that way he marked thelines of her figure as he had never marked them before. He had previouslythought of Katie as a good build for golf. Now that did not seem toexpress the whole of it—and Katie seemed to know it would not expressthe whole of it. And in summarizing Katie as having a good build for golfhe had not properly appraised Katie's foot. It was thrust out now fromher very short skirt as if Katie were quite willing he should know it fora lovely foot. And her arm, which was hanging down from the side of thechair, seemed conscious of being something more than a good arm for golf.

　　She looked so like a child, and yet so lurkingly like a woman. It gavehim a new sense of Katie. It blew the warm breath of life over an idea hehad had when he came there.

　　He had just come from Zelda Fraser, having had luncheon at theOsbornes'. He had once thought Zelda stimulating. Now she did not seemat all stimulating in comparison with Katie. She was too obvious. Thatlurking something in Katie's eyes, that mysterious smile she had, madeKatie seem subtle.

　　If this were to be added to all her other charms—

　　Katie had always seemed delightfully daring in an innocent sort of way.It seemed now she might be capable of being subtle in a sophisticatedway. He had always thought of Katie as romping. A distinguished and quiteindividual form of romping. She even had a romping imagination. He lovedher for her merriness, for her open sunniness. That had been animpersonal love, not very different from the way he might have loved asister. In fact he had more than once wished Katie were his little sisterinstead of Wayne's.

　　He did not wish that now.

　　She became too fascinating and too desirable in her mysterious newcomplexity. There was zest in discovering Katie after he had knownher so long.

　　And her eyes and her smile seemed jeering at him for having been such along while in discovering her.

　　He wanted to kiss her. That mocking little smile seemed daring him tokiss her. And yet he did not dare to. It seemed part of Katie's lovelynew complexity that she could invite and forbid at one and the same time.

　　Now Zelda could not have done more than the inviting—and so manycould invite.

　　He rose and stood near her. "Katie, you don't mean to marry

　　Prescott, do you?"

　　She clapped her hands above her head and laughed like a child immenselytickled about something.

　　He laughed, too, and then asked to be informed what he was laughing at.

　　"Oh, you're just laughing because I am," laughed Katie.

　　"Then may I ask, mysterious one, what you're laughing at?"

　　"Oh I'm laughing at a tumble I once took. 'Twas such a tumble."

　　"I'd like to tumble to the tumble."

　　"You would like it. You'd love it."

　　"I hadn't thought," said the Major, "that when I asked if you meant tomarry Prescott I was classifying with the great humorists of all time."

　　"And I hadn't thought," she returned, "that when I thought Prescott meantto marry me I was classifying with the great tumblers of all time!"

　　Suddenly she stopped laughing. "No, I don't mean to marry Harry, and Ican further state with authority that Harry doesn't mean to marry me."

　　The laughter went from even her eyes—thinking, perhaps, of whom Harrydid mean to marry.

　　But she was not going to let herself become grave. If she grew quiet shewould know again about the woe of the world—surging right underneath.The only way not to know it was underneath was to keep merrily dancingaway in one's place on top of it. She made a curious little gesture offlicking something from her hand and whistled a romping little tune.

　　He stood there surveying her. "It wouldn't do at all for you to marryPrescott, Katie. He's a likeable enough fellow, but with it all somethingof a duffer."

　　"Just what kind of man," asked Katie demurely, "would you say I hadbetter marry?"

　　He sat down in a chair nearer her. "Just what kind of man would you liketo marry?"

　　"How do you know," she asked, still demurely, "that I would like tomarry any?"

　　"Oh you must have a guide, Katie. You must be guided through thiswicked world."

　　She bit her lip and turned away when he told her she must have a guide.

　　But she turned back, and seriously. "Is it a wicked world?"

　　With that he ventured to pat the hand now lying on the arm of the chairso near him. "Well you'll never know it, if it is. We'll keep it all fromyou, Katie. You're safe."

　　Katie pulled her hand away petulantly. "If there's anything I don't wantto be," she said, "it's safe."

　　That seemed to amuse him. "I only meant," he laughed, "safe from thegreat outer world."

　　"Tell me," said Katie, "what's in the great outer world?"

　　He sat there smiling at her as one would smile at a dearinquisitive child.

　　"Have you made many excursions into the great outer world?" sheasked boldly.

　　"Oh yes," he replied lightly, "I've been something of an explorer. Allmen, you know, Katie, are born explorers. Though for the most part I mustsay I find our own little world the more attractive."

　　Then he surprised her. "Katie, would you think a man a brute to proposeto a girl on the day she was giving an important dinner?"

　　But right there she pulled herself in. "No more tumbles!" thought Katie.

　　"It would seem rather inconsiderate, wouldn't it? Such a man wouldn'tseem to have a true sense of values."

　　"Well, dinner or no dinner, the man I have in mind has a true sense ofvalues. He has a true sense of values because he knows KatherineWayneworth Jones for the most desirable thing in all the world."

　　It did surprise her, and the surprise grew. None of them had thought of

　　Major Darrett as what they called a marrying man.

　　And on the heels of the surprise came a certain sense of triumph. Katieknew that any of the girls in what he called their little world would belooking upon it as a moment of triumph, and there was triumph in gainingwhat others would regard as triumph.

　　"How old are you, Katie?" he asked.

　　She told him.

　　"Twenty-five. And I'm forty-one. Is that prohibitive?"

　　She looked at him, thinking how lightly the years had touched him—howlightly, in all probability, they would touch him. He had distinctly themilitary bearing. He would have that same bearing at sixty. And thatsame charm. He was one to whom experience gave the gift of charm moreinsidiously than youth could give it.

　　Life would be more possible with him than with any man she knew withinthe enclosure. If one were to go dancing and smiling and flirting throughthe world Major Darrett would be the best possible man to go with.

　　As she looked at him, smiling at her half tenderly and half humorously,life with Major Darrett presented itself as such an attractive thing thatthere was almost pain in the thought of not being able to take it.

　　For deep within her she never questioned not being able to take it. Butfor the moment—

　　"You see, Katie," he was saying, "I would be the best possible one foryou to be married to, because you could go right on havingflirtations. Of course I needn't tell you, Katie dear, that you're aflirt. The trouble with your marrying most fellows would be that theywouldn't like it."

　　"And of course," she replied, "I would be a good one for you to marrybecause having my own flirtations I wouldn't be in a position to becritical about yours."

　　He laughed quite frankly.

　　Katie leaned back and sat there smiling at him, that new baffling smilehe found so alluring.

　　"But do you know, Katie, I think, for a long time, anyway, we could keepbusy flirting with each other."

　　"And we would keep all the busier," she said, "knowing that the minutewe stopped flirting with each other one of us would get busy flirtingwith somebody else."

　　He laughed delightedly. "Katie, where did you learn it was very fetchingto say outrageous things so demurely?"

　　"Tell me," said Katie, more seriously, "why do you want to marry?"

　　"Until about an hour ago I wanted to marry—oh for the most bromidic ofreasons. Just because, in the natural course of events, it seemed thenext thing for me to do. I'll even be quite frank and confess I hadthought of you in that bromidic version of it. Had thought of it as'eminently suitable'—also, eminently desirable. We'd like to do the samethings. We'd get on—be good fellows together. But now I want tomarry—and I want to marry you—because I think you're quite the mostfascinating thing in all the world!"

　　Lightly and yet seriously he spoke of things—of his own prospects. Sheknew how good they were. Of where and how they would probably live;—apleasant picture it was he could draw. It would mean life along thesunny paths. And very sunny indeed it seemed they would be—if possibleat all. Certainly one would never have to explain any of one's jokes toMajor Darrett.

　　For just a moment she let herself drift into it. And knowing she wasdrifting, and not knowing it was for just the moment, he rose and bentover her chair.

　　"Katie," he whispered, and there was passion in his voice, "I think Ican make you fall in love with me."

　　The little imp in Katie took possession. And something deeper than thelittle imp stirred vaguely at sound of that thing in his voice. Sheraised her face so that it was turned up to him. "You think you could?Now I wonder."

　　"Oh you wonder, do you—you exasperating little wretch! Well just give mea chance—"

　　But suddenly he was standing at attention, his face colorless. Katiejumped up guiltily, and there leaning against the door—all huddled downand terrible looking—was Ann.

　　"Why, Katie," she whispered thickly—"Katie! But you told me—youpromised me—that you would shut the door in his face."