Ladies-In-Waiting

“Your mind is so logical, Charlotte! However, this voyage wouldn’t have to be idealized to meet the needs of honeymooners. In a Vermont village where I sometimes stay I remember a girl who had to be married on Sunday because she could not give up her position as telegraph-operator till Saturday night. That was dull enough in all conscience, but she was married in her high-school graduating dress, and went to her grandmother’s house, ten miles away, for her wedding-journey. I think it required considerable inward felicity to exalt that situation!”

I sat upright in my steamer chair. “Dorothea,” I said sharply, “you have been manufacturing conversation for the last five minutes—just killing time for fear that I should ask you questions. Is there anything on your mind? You have been absentminded and nervous for days.”

“Your imagination is working overtime, Charlotte,” she answered. “We are nearing home, that is all; and life presses closer.”

I could not gainsay her, for every mile of ocean crossed makes my heart beat faster. I seem to be living just now in a sort of pause between my different lives. There is the heaven of my childhood in the vague background; then the building of my “career,” if so modest a thing can be called by so shining a name; then the steady, half-conscious growth of a love that illumines my labors, yet makes them difficult and perplexing; and now there is a sense of suspended activity, of waiting, with a glimmering air-castle rising like an iridescent bubble out of the hazy future. Sometimes there are two welcoming faces at a window and sometimes the indistinct figure of a woman stretching out a forbidding hand, my chief’s sister, who may not want a third person in the family!

S.S. Diana, February 13, 1918

Dolly went on the bridge this afternoon and stayed a half-hour with the captain, giving no reason save that she liked to talk with him, which seemed plausible, but did not satisfy me. At bedtime I discovered her unpacking and laying out in her upper berth a dazzling toilet for our landing at St. Thomas to-morrow. She blushed when I looked in upon her.

“Do dress ‘up to me,’ Charlotte,” she coaxed. “I don’t want to be conspicuous. Wear your gray georgette and the broad hat with the roses.”

“Why this sudden display of vanity and good clothes?”

“Hasn’t your letter of introduction to Governor Oliver brought us an invitation to luncheon at Government House?”

“Yes; but I don’t suppose it is a banquet.”

“Charlotte, I must confide in you.”

“I should think it was about time.”

“What do you mean?”

“I have known for days that you were concealing something.”

“I didn’t want to be secretive, but I thought it was only fair to you to keep my own counsel. Now you can report to mother that you knew nothing, and that therefore you couldn’t interfere.”

“But what have you done? You can’t be secretly married—with your chosen man in Washington and you on the vasty deep.”

“No; but I’m next door to it.”

“What do you mean by ‘next door’? Have you a groom and a minister waiting on the New York dock?”

“No; mother will be there, but I fear she won’t bring a minister. I’m so glad you imagined something far, far worse than I ever intended. It shows that you are more audacious than I—though nobody would believe it.”

“I don’t like your tone; but go on.”

“I’ve been communicating rather frequently with Duke.”

“So I fancied, from your changing money at every stop and doing continual sums on paper.”

“It has made me a pauper—this telegraphing in war-time. The messages go by Jamaica or Porto Rico or Trinidad or Bermuda and lots of other islands, and I think some of the messages must be personally conducted straight to New York by powerful swimmers, judging by the cost.”

“Go on. Don’t temporize.”

“I needn’t repeat all of them, and in fact I haven’t copies. Duke, after he had my first telegram from St. Thomas, wired back to St. Croix, ‘You are willing to take my name. Why, after all, shouldn’t I refuse your sacrifice and make one of my own by taking yours?’ Wasn’t that noble?”

“It would have softened the heart of a suffragette or a feminist. What did you reply?”

“I said: ‘Never in the world!’”

“‘Never’ would have been enough. You wasted three words at a dollar or so apiece.”

“I wanted to be strong. I said: ‘Never in the world! I am not going to have you criticized and nagged and made unhappy, as if your name were a crime!’ Then he wired: ‘But it would remove objections, and cost only six thousand a year.’ I had to wait two whole days and nights before I could cable: ‘Objector will surely meet me in New York. She will probably forgive if we are both firm. My mind is made up. I would rather be a you-know-what than remain a Valentine.’”

“That was strong enough.”

“I meant it to be. He has been scurrilously treated, and somebody must stand by him. Now, to-morrow, February 14th, is his birthday. I remember it because we met on St. Valentine’s day, and it wasn’t many hours afterward that I guessed how he felt about me.”

“Dorothea! Do you mean to tell me that a man spoke to you of his feelings within twenty-four hours of the time you met?”

“No, I do not.”

“You certainly intimated as much. If it wasn’t many hours after you met on the 14th it must have been on the 15th.”

“No, you are wrong, Charlotte. It was the evening of the same day. We met in the early morning.”

“It sounds like a children’s party with an exchange of those snapping-mottoes.”

“Duke is nearly twenty-eight, you know, Charlotte; so it is simply nonsense to jeer at him. You ought to be able to imagine what sort of things would be said between two persons mutually attracted to each other—when you remember that he was born on February 14th and my name is Valentine. The coincidence simply put ideas into our heads; but I won’t go on if you don’t sympathize.”

“I don’t actually disapprove, not at heart. Now, what has his birthday got to do with to-morrow and St. Thomas?”

“Why, I cabled him as soon as we arrived at Barbados: ‘What would you like for a birthday present from the West Indies?’ I knew that he would remember we met on St. Valentine’s day and an answer could reach me at St. Thomas.”

“Couldn’t you buy him a souvenir without inquiring at great expense what he’d prefer?”

“Ye-es; but I thought it was a nice, affectionate question.”

“Well?”

“Well, he cabled one word, Charlotte.”

“I guessed that the moment you quoted your message. When you asked: ‘What shall I bring you from the West Indies?’ Duke promptly answered, ‘Yourself.’”

“Charlotte, you are positively uncanny! How did you manage to hit upon it?”

“It doesn’t take as much intellect as you fancy. You are as transparent as a plate of glass. Well, when he said ‘Yourself,’ how did you answer him?”

“It’s the only thing I don’t like to tell you, but I must. I reflected a full half-hour at Barbados. It was one of those heavenly moonlight nights not suitable for reflection. Then I wrote a message and sent it to the office by one of the colored waiters so that the hotel people shouldn’t read it. It said” (and here she turned her face away from me): “‘Deliveries from the West Indies are uncertain and expensive; come and get me.’—Do you think that was forward?”

I laughed irresistibly and a long time. “It certainly was not backward, but it was delicious,” I said at length, wiping the tears from my eyes. “However, he seems as impetuous and tempestuous as you, so perhaps it doesn’t matter.”

“You see, Charlotte, I knew that probably he couldn’t meet this boat to save his life, so I was willing to say, ‘Come and get me,’ just for fun. I hadn’t the slightest clue as to when he would receive my message or the sailing dates of steamers from New York, everything is so changed in war-times. I know only that the time is slipping away, and Duke may leave the Shipping Board at any moment for the training-camp. I intend to have one brief, straightforward talk with mother, and declare my purpose. We are going to get your Mr. Winthrop to intercede for us, too. I shall be of age in March, and I don’t intend to let a mere name stand between me and happiness.”

“I think you are right, and that your mother will finally agree with you; but I still don’t see the need of an unusual toilet for to-morrow.”

“It’s for the Governor,” said Dolly, “and one never knows what may happen.”

“If a bromidic remark may also be cryptic, Dorothea, you have achieved the combination. Now I must ask you a direct question, for, although I am not your keeper, but your friend, I am not disposed to let you do anything reckless. Why did you put that idea into Duke’s head—the idea of meeting you in St. Thomas?”

“I wanted to talk things over before seeing mother. I knew I could trust him. He has some elderly cousins and a sister-in-law; surely, between them, he could find somebody to bring along with him; and I have you, safest and wisest of Charlottes! Duke is one of the legal advisers of the Shipping Board. Why shouldn’t he have business in these islands? Besides, it is a practical impossibility that he should be able to reach St. Thomas on a given date.”

“Then why did you suggest it?”

“I think, Charlotte, it must have been empty-mindedness.”

“I regard it as a pure lack of self-control.”

“I’ve practiced self-control for one whole, endless year.”

“You have practiced filial obedience, I grant that. But what good do you expect to achieve if Duke does surmount the insurmountable and meet you to-morrow?”

“What good?” Dolly almost shrieked the question. “What good, do you ask? You callous, cold-hearted Charlotte! Why, four heavenly days spent in his society, to be sure—with you and his chaperon having a lovely time together somewhere not too near.”

“And you haven’t any sneaking idea of marrying him in St. Thomas? Because I won’t allow it.”

“No such luck! He wouldn’t let me, unless mother’s attitude has been miraculously changed.”

“Well, I can only say that you have made me very nervous and uncomfortable, Dolly,” and I prepared to leave her cabin and cross the narrow space that divided it from mine.

“Darling Charlotte!” Here she drew me back. “If you are nervous and uncomfortable, it seems that you think there’s a bare chance that Duke will be in St. Thomas.”

“I know nothing about the possibilities,” I replied. “He might persuade the Shipping Board that he could be of use in this vicinity, and, of course, he would have advantages not possessed by ordinary tourists.”

“If you had had any experience with shipping boards, Charlotte, you would know that they can only be moved by chloroform or dynamite. Besides, Duke would never do anything underhanded; he is too patriotic; though, of course, he is inventive.”

“Of course! And inventiveness is only one of his gifts, while his virtues are those of Sir Galahad, King Arthur, Marcus Aurelius, Abraham Lincoln, and a few others.”

“Charlotte, I don’t want to seem harsh, but I hope some time you will get a faint inkling of what love really is. Your heart reminds me of the Rock of Gibraltar!”

“One doesn’t wear the Rock of Gibraltar on one’s sleeve, at all events,” I remarked.

“Do you mean that if you ever did have a love-affair you wouldn’t confide in me, when I adore you so, Charlotte?”

“I mean something of the sort, my child.” At which she made a feint of beating me with her little silver hair-brush, but ended in kissing my cheek and whispering: “Good-night! You are a darling, even if you have no sentiment.”

Morning came. We anchored outside St. Croix at five o’clock; went through medical inspection at six, and if there was anything the matter with Dolly’s heart or mine the physician did not offer any comment. Then about ten we approached St. Thomas for the second time.

If the Virgin Islands looked beautiful when we first saw them, they had grown in beauty during our brief absence, and my birthplace, in the shining distance, was a very dream of loveliness. We saw its outline rising above a rim of azure sea, with the mountains of Porto Rico standing out to the westward. The great palm groves on the shore led the eye upward to the green hills and the clouds topping the higher peaks. Gayly painted boats began to come near the Diana, and naked diving boys, slender shapes of brown mahogany, plunged into the sea to catch our pennies. Then we saw the red roofs of Charlotte Amalia, the little park near the landing, and the pink, toy-like fortress with the Stars and Stripes floating over it.

Dorothea and I stood near the deck-rail, her hand in mine. In her white dress, her broad hat wreathed with corn-flowers, and a scarlet sunshade, she looked a youthful Columbia, so radiant and bewitching that for the first time I secretly hoped Marmaduke Hogg might triumph over the obstacles in the way and come to meet his ladylove, although I saw many embarrassing and awkward situations arising from such a meeting. I could not be jealous of so bright and joyous a creature, and anyway my own happiness was only a few days distant, if I chose to put out my arms and take it.

There seemed to be a crowd on the dock, which was made most unattractive by a colossal mountain of coal that concealed everything behind it. The Diana made a slow approach, but we finally passed the coal-heap and came within thirty feet of the shore. I could feel Dolly’s heart beat through her pulse that lay under my hand. Then suddenly her quick eyes searched the outer edge of the crowd and found the shape they were looking for.

“I think I see him! I think I am going to faint, for I didn’t really expect him! Yes; I know it is he, though he is wearing summer clothes that I never saw before. Look, Charlotte! Away back near that grove of cocoanut-trees! He’s with other people—I knew he would find somebody! Give me the glasses. There’s an elderly man in a Panama hat, and two ladies, and—why, Charlotte, take the glasses yourself. It can’t be, but it looks like your Winthrop!”

My hand trembled so that I could hardly hold the glass. I could scarcely believe Dolly’s eyes or my own; but the Diana crept nearer, and it was true! Inch by inch the picture grew clearer, and then a pathetic surprise met my gaze.

I could see Clive plainly now, and felt that he was searching the line of passengers on the Diana’s deck to find me. My heart gave a furious leap to think that a man like my chief would look for only one woman’s face in that crowd, and regard it, with all its blemishes, as a precious thing.

Duke had separated himself from the little group and was swinging his hat to Dorothea; but I could not explain why the two men were not standing nearer together and what was the meaning of the wheeled chair, with the nurse’s head rising above the back. The identity of the person in the chair was hidden by a tiny black frilled parasol with a handle bent in the middle so that it could be used for a shield. Did I know that little old-fashioned sunshade? I did! It was the property of some one whose belongings had a certain air of difference from those of other people. She lifted it at last, as we came close to the dock, and I met Ellen Winthrop’s affectionate, welcoming glance. Her eyes swam in unshed tears, and mine were so wet I could see only dimly that her beautiful hair was a shade whiter, her face paler and thinner, that she had aged mysteriously in a month, and the hand that was holding the parasol trembled like a leaf. She had been very ill; there was no doubt of that. She had been ordered a voyage, and I felt that she had chosen this one because she knew Clive’s wish. That meant she was willing to welcome me into the heart of the family; perhaps even that she wished to help me fit myself to take her own unique place in her brother’s life. Oh, what joy to feel that I could not only take freely all that my chief wanted to give me, but that I could be of real service to her!

Down the precipitous landing-steps we went, Dolly, as usual, well in the front. Clive and Duke were at the foot awaiting us, and, as we felt a sense of safety in the midst of strangers, Dolly flung herself at once into Duke’s arms, while all the male watchers on deck or dock gazed at him with envy. Finding myself unobserved in this spectacular tableau, I could give Clive my own greeting as my heart dictated, while I told him that his sister’s presence answered my last doubt.

When Dolly withdrew from the embrace of her adoring swain—rosy, joyous, unabashed—she adjusted her hat from its perilous position on one side of her head, and gazed upon Clive and me with unflattering astonishment mixed with awe.

“You, too, perfidious Charlotte! You needn’t deny it; I saw you both—just finishing!”

“Not at all, Miss Valentine,” laughed Clive, putting out his hand to shake hers. “We were, in fact, only just beginning.”

“And to think I never suspected, when I might have known that you are the only man in the world learned enough and good enough for Charlotte.”

“You were too absorbed in your own affairs to think about mine, missy,” I said. “Now, will you be modest and grateful for the rest of your life, since you see that my Mr. Winthrop has brought your young man to St. Thomas in a discreet manner that you never could have achieved by yourself? Take me to your sister, Clive; I want her to know without a moment’s delay how I appreciate her coming with you.”

“She has been terribly ill, Charlotte. For ten days after you left it was almost hopeless, but at length she rallied, and since the doctor insisted on a change of climate her whole heart was bent on coming here. She has long suspected our feeling for each other, and you will be such a joy to her as well as to me, my dear.”

“It makes me so happy, so happy!” I faltered, my eyes swimming with tears. “I was so unwilling to take all and give so little—now it will be more!”

“Don’t go off by yourselves,” said Dolly. “Be dignified and indifferent, like us. Take Mr. Winthrop’s arm and I’ll take Duke’s.” (Here she suited the action to the word.) “There’s the Governor, expecting us to luncheon and not knowing us by sight. He won’t suspect what has happened; but after saluting him and asking him to put some more plates on the table, we’ll all walk up to Miss Winthrop’s chair, and you and I will say: ‘Good-morning, dear lady. Let us introduce to you “our new possessions,” our spoils of travel, our souvenirs of a sea-voyage.’ Then Duke and Mr. Winthrop will make a profound obeisance, and all will be over.”

And so it turned out! Everybody laughed and chatted; Dorothea kissed Ellen Winthrop’s hand prettily, coquetted with Clive, and began to lay siege to the nurse’s heart, while she riveted the chains by which she held Marmaduke Hogg in bondage. She was in high spirits, but she was distinctly nervous, and whenever she introduced her fiancé to one of her fellow voyagers she showed a heightened color as she slid quickly over his surname.

Presently Clive withdrew a little distance to talk with the Governor’s secretary, and Dorothea caught the captain on his way from the ship and entangled him in a merry conversation with Miss Winthrop. This gave Marmaduke an opportunity to take me aside. I suspected that he wanted to confide in me that Mrs. Valentine had made one last determined refusal to receive him as a son-in-law, and that after the next few days of sea-voyaging we should meet an irate parent at the landing in New York and that there would be metaphorical “wigs on the green.”

I confess in that moment, as I envisaged the recalcitrant Dolly locked in her room and fed upon bread and water, that I wished Mr. Marmaduke Hogg had remained in Washington, which is the scene of so many battles that one more or less would not be obvious on the horizon. On the contrary, his first words were a surprise.

“Miss Clifford,” he said, “no one knows what Dolly and I owe to you!”

“But what have I done?” I inquired laughingly.

“Oh, a thousand things! Taken my part gently and kindly with Mrs. Valentine; and above all, allowed Dolly to come on this journey with you, when she was so utterly confused by her mother’s objections to our marriage that she did not know which way to turn.—It’s rather a big job for a girl to decide whether she’ll break her mother’s heart, or her lover’s!”

“Mrs. Valentine has no heart, save in the physiological sense,” I interrupted.

“Well, I have cut the Gordian knot,” continued Marmaduke. “I don’t want Dolly to know just at first, but I have set plans in motion for changing my name back to Forrest!”

“But you lose six thousand dollars a year!” I exclaimed.

“It doesn’t matter. I am offered a New York partnership when the war is over and it won’t be very long before I make it up.”

“And what about your dear old uncle?”

“That hurts me, I confess. But I think if departed spirits know nothing of our doings, it doesn’t matter, and if they know everything, uncle must have kept an eye on Mrs. Valentine and will understand.”

“I never thought of leaving the whole matter to ‘uncle,’” I observed.

“I’m not shifting the responsibility; I’m simply counting on him. I always counted on him and he always trusted me. If I could get him on a spiritual long-distance telephone, he would see that I cannot part an only daughter from her only mother.”

“Yes, I’ve often thought only children were a mistake; they bulk too heavily in the foreground. Where there are six, each one cannot take up so much room.”

“Exactly. You see we’ve got to go to her mother’s to dinner every other Sunday when our cook’s out. I’ve learned that much about matrimony in advance.”

“Perhaps you won’t be invited!”

“Well, that would be even worse. Besides, she has given up her apartment and leased a charming house.”

“Does she think that you and Dolly are to live with her?”

“If she does she is mistaken, but to do her justice I don’t believe that’s her idea at all. However, she is all settled and awaiting Dorothea. The house is going to be a surprise.”

“Dolly will like it; the apartment didn’t suit her taste.”

“A pompous butler is installed. I discovered all this when I went to call, and conscientiously told her I was going to St. Thomas with the Winthrops. He is elderly, of course, as all the middle-aged and young butlers are in khaki; and wonderful to relate, there is also an aged but well-preserved footman. He dwells on the lower floor, and communicates with the butler on the floor above, where the drawing- and dining-rooms are, by means of a speaking-tube. The moment the footman approached me with his ‘What name, sir?’ and bawled ‘MR. Hogg!’ through the tube, the butler repeating it resonantly to the boudoir where Mrs. Valentine was sitting; at that moment I knew why she had taken the house. It was for the speaking-tubes! I have never before seen a small house in Washington with these annunciators. The butler and footman were engaged for the same purpose, that of bawling ‘Mr. Hogg’ whenever I called upon Dolly. After my interview with Mrs. Valentine, which was placid, for she thanked me coldly for telling her of my proposed journey and said she should go herself, but imagined that the steamers were small and uncomfortable, and the food villainous; however, we would talk the whole matter over in New York and come to some decision; she then went to the speaking-tube and called, ‘Brown! Ask Jenkins to show Mr. Hogg out, please!’

“I left the lady and went at once to Clive Winthrop for advice and began the process of amputating my surname. Perhaps I shall not call at the X Street house till the wedding is over, and when the footman asks: ‘What name, sir?’ I shall say: ‘My bachelor name, as you may remember, was Hogg, but I am now married and it is Forrest!’”