Hat I would always
love him. But I told him that the Familey objected to him, and that
this was to end everything between us. They had started the
phonograph in the library, and were playing "The Rosary." So I
ended with a verse from that. It was really a most affecting
letter. I almost wept over it myself, because, if there had been a
Harold, it would have broken his Heart.
Of course I meant to give it to Hannah to mail, and she would give
it to mother. Then, after the family had read it and it had got in
its work, including the set of furs, they were welcome to mail it.
It would go to the Dead Letter Office, since there was no Harold.
It could not come back to me, for I had only signed it "Barbara."
I had it all figured out carefully. It looked as if I had
everything to gain, including the furs, and nothing to lose. Alas,
how little I knew!
"The best laid plans of mice and men gang aft aglay." Burns.
Carter Brooks ambled into the room just as I sealed it and stood
gazing down at me.
"You're quite a Person these days, Bab," he said. "I suppose all the
customary Xmas kisses are being saved this year for what's his name."
"I don't understand you."
"For Harold. You know, Bab, I think I could bear up better if his
name wasn't Harold."
"I don't see how it concerns you," I responded.
"Don't you? With me crazy about you for lo, these many years! First
as a baby, then as a sub-sub-deb, and now as a sub-deb. Next year,
when you are a real Debutante----"
"You've concealed your infatuation bravely."
"It's been eating me inside. A green and yellow melancholly--hello!
A letter to him!"
"Why, so it is," I said in a scornfull tone.
He picked it up, and looked at it. Then he started and stared at me.
"No!" he said. "It isn't possible! It isn't old Valentine!"
Positively, my knees got cold. I never had such a shock.
"It--it certainly is Harold Valentine," I said feebly.
"Old Hal!" he muttered. "Well, who would have thought it! And not
a word to me about it, the secretive old duffer!" He held out his
hand to me. "Congratulations, Barbara," he said heartily. "Since
you absolutely refuse me, you couldn't do better. He's the finest
chap I know. If it's Valentine the Familey is kicking up such a row
about, you leave it to me. I'll tell them a few things."
I was stunned. Would anybody have beleived it? To pick a name out
of the air, so to speak, and off a malted milk tablet, and then to
find that it actualy belonged to some one--was sickning.
"It may not be the one you know" I said desperately. "It--it's a
common name. There must be plenty of Valentines."
"Sure there are, lace paper and Cupids--lots of that sort. But
there's only one Harold Valentine, and now you've got him pinned to
the wall! I'll tell you what I'll do, Barbara. I'm a real friend of
yours. Always have been. Always will be. The chances are against
the Familey letting him get this letter. I'll give it to him."
"GIVE it to him?"
"Why, he's here. You know that, don't you? He's in town over
the holadays."
"Oh, no!" I said in a gasping Voice.
"Sorry," he said. "Probably meant it as a surprize to you. Yes,
he's here, with bells on."
He then put the letter in his pocket before my very eyes, and sat
down on the corner of the writing table!
"You don't know how all this has releived my mind," he said. "The
poor chap's been looking down. Not interested in anything. Of
course this explains it. He' s the sort to take Love hard. At college
he took everything hard--like to have died once with German meazles."
He picked up a book, and the charred picture was underneath. He
pounced on it. "Pounced" is exactly the right word.
"Hello!" he said. "Familey again, I suppose. Yes, it's Hal, all
right. Well, who would have thought it!"
My last hope died. Then and there I had a nervous chill. I was
compelled to prop my chin on my hand to keep my teeth from chattering.
"Tell you what I'll do," he said, in a perfectly cheerfull tone
that made me cold all over. "I'll be the Cupid for your Valentine.
See? Far be it from me to see Love's young dream wiped out by a
hardhearted Familey. I'm going to see this thing through. You count
on me, Barbara.