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The Common Law
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"Let us dry the starting tear
For the hours are surely fleeting
And the sad sundown is near.
All must sip the cup of sorrow,
I to-day, and thou to-morrow!
This the end of every song,
Ding-dong! Ding-dong!
Yet until the shadows fall
Over one and over all,
Sing a merry madrigal!"
Rita, nibbling a chocolate, glanced up:
"That's a gay little creed," she observed.
"Of course. It's the only creed."
Rita shrugged and Valerie went on blithely singing and sewing.
"How long has that young man of yours been away?" inquired Rita, looking up again.
"Thirteen days."
"Oh. Are you sure it isn't fourteen?"
"Perfectly." Then the sarcasm struck her, and she looked around at Rita and laughed:
"Of course I count the days," she said, conscious of the soft colour mounting to her cheeks.
Rita sat up and, tucking a pillow under her shoulders, leaned back against the foot-board of the bed, kicking the newspaper to the floor. "Do you know," she said, "that you have come pretty close to falling in love with Kelly Neville?"
Valerie's lips trembled on the edge of a smile as she bent lower over her sewing, but she made no reply.
"I should say," continued Rita, "that it was about time for you to pick up your skirts and run for it."
Still Valerie sewed on in silence.
"Valerie!"
"What?"
"For goodness' sake, say something!"
"What do you want me to say, dear?" asked the girl, laughing.
"That you are not in danger of making a silly ninny of yourself over Kelly Neville."
"Oh, I'll say that very cheerfully—"
"Valerie!"
The girl looked at her, calmly amused. Then she said:
"I might as well tell you. I am head over heels in love with him. You knew it, anyway, Rita. You've known it—oh, I don't know how long—but you've known it. Haven't you?"
Rita thought a moment: "Yes, I have known it…. What are you going to do?"
"Do?"
"Yes; what do you intend to do about this matter?"
"Love him," said Valerie. "What else can I do?"
"You could try not to."
"I don't want to."
"You had better."
"Why?"
"Because," said Rita, deliberately, "if you really love him you'll either become his wife or his mistress; and it's a pretty rotten choice either way."
Valerie blushed scarlet;
"Rotten—choice?"
"Certainly. You know perfectly well what your position would be when his family and his friends learned that he'd married his model. No girl of any spirit would endure it—no matter how affable his friends might perhaps pretend to be. No girl of any sense would ever put herself in such a false position…. I tell you, Valerie, it's only the exceptional man who'll stand by you. No doubt Louis Neville would. But it would cost him every friend he has—and probably the respect of his parents. And that means misery for you both—because he couldn't conceal from you what marrying you was costing him—"
"Rita!"
"Yes."
"There is no use telling me all this. I know it. He knows I know it. I am not going to marry him."
After a silence Rita said, slowly: "Did he ask you to?"
Valerie looked down, passed her needle through the hem once, twice.
"Yes," she said, softly, "he asked me."
"And—you refused?"
"Yes."
Rita said: "I like Kelly Neville … and I love you better, dear. But it's not best for you to marry him…. Life isn't a very sentimental affair—not nearly as silly a matter as poets and painters and dramas and novels pretend it is. Love really plays a very minor part in life, Don't you know it?"
"Yes. I lived twenty years without it," said Valerie, demurely, yet in her smile Rita divined the hidden tragedy. And she leaned forward and kissed her impulsively.
"Let's swear celibacy," she said, "and live out our lives together in single blessedness! Will you? We can have a perfectly good time until the undertaker knocks."
For the hours are surely fleeting
And the sad sundown is near.
All must sip the cup of sorrow,
I to-day, and thou to-morrow!
This the end of every song,
Ding-dong! Ding-dong!
Yet until the shadows fall
Over one and over all,
Sing a merry madrigal!"
Rita, nibbling a chocolate, glanced up:
"That's a gay little creed," she observed.
"Of course. It's the only creed."
Rita shrugged and Valerie went on blithely singing and sewing.
"How long has that young man of yours been away?" inquired Rita, looking up again.
"Thirteen days."
"Oh. Are you sure it isn't fourteen?"
"Perfectly." Then the sarcasm struck her, and she looked around at Rita and laughed:
"Of course I count the days," she said, conscious of the soft colour mounting to her cheeks.
Rita sat up and, tucking a pillow under her shoulders, leaned back against the foot-board of the bed, kicking the newspaper to the floor. "Do you know," she said, "that you have come pretty close to falling in love with Kelly Neville?"
Valerie's lips trembled on the edge of a smile as she bent lower over her sewing, but she made no reply.
"I should say," continued Rita, "that it was about time for you to pick up your skirts and run for it."
Still Valerie sewed on in silence.
"Valerie!"
"What?"
"For goodness' sake, say something!"
"What do you want me to say, dear?" asked the girl, laughing.
"That you are not in danger of making a silly ninny of yourself over Kelly Neville."
"Oh, I'll say that very cheerfully—"
"Valerie!"
The girl looked at her, calmly amused. Then she said:
"I might as well tell you. I am head over heels in love with him. You knew it, anyway, Rita. You've known it—oh, I don't know how long—but you've known it. Haven't you?"
Rita thought a moment: "Yes, I have known it…. What are you going to do?"
"Do?"
"Yes; what do you intend to do about this matter?"
"Love him," said Valerie. "What else can I do?"
"You could try not to."
"I don't want to."
"You had better."
"Why?"
"Because," said Rita, deliberately, "if you really love him you'll either become his wife or his mistress; and it's a pretty rotten choice either way."
Valerie blushed scarlet;
"Rotten—choice?"
"Certainly. You know perfectly well what your position would be when his family and his friends learned that he'd married his model. No girl of any spirit would endure it—no matter how affable his friends might perhaps pretend to be. No girl of any sense would ever put herself in such a false position…. I tell you, Valerie, it's only the exceptional man who'll stand by you. No doubt Louis Neville would. But it would cost him every friend he has—and probably the respect of his parents. And that means misery for you both—because he couldn't conceal from you what marrying you was costing him—"
"Rita!"
"Yes."
"There is no use telling me all this. I know it. He knows I know it. I am not going to marry him."
After a silence Rita said, slowly: "Did he ask you to?"
Valerie looked down, passed her needle through the hem once, twice.
"Yes," she said, softly, "he asked me."
"And—you refused?"
"Yes."
Rita said: "I like Kelly Neville … and I love you better, dear. But it's not best for you to marry him…. Life isn't a very sentimental affair—not nearly as silly a matter as poets and painters and dramas and novels pretend it is. Love really plays a very minor part in life, Don't you know it?"
"Yes. I lived twenty years without it," said Valerie, demurely, yet in her smile Rita divined the hidden tragedy. And she leaned forward and kissed her impulsively.
"Let's swear celibacy," she said, "and live out our lives together in single blessedness! Will you? We can have a perfectly good time until the undertaker knocks."
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Последний отзыв
Книга дельная. Без воды, приводятся реальные кейсы и способы их разрешения. Много практичных полезных советов и методик. Кое-что уже испробовала в дел...
Далее