The Blythes Are Quoted (54 page)

Aunt Clara, who had a reputation for saying the most poisonous things in the sweetest way, asked her if she wasn’t tired after her hard day in a stuffy office.

“Let me see ... it’s the
Enterprise
you work on? It’s supposed to be Conservative, isn’t it?”

“No ... Independent,” said Susette, her green eyes shimmering wickedly.

Mrs. Brooks would have sighed, if she had ever done anything so human. She did not trust green-eyed women. Mrs. Gilbert Blythe had green eyes and she had never liked her.

“Harvey,” Susette said at lunch next day. “I’m going to play truant this afternoon. I’m going to take my car and go off for a real spin on the road to yesterday. In other words, to see an old farm at Glen St. Mary where I used to spend my summers when I was a kiddy.”

“I’ll go with you,” said Harvey.

“No.” Susette shook her head. “I want to go alone. To keep a tryst with old memories. It would bore you.”

Harvey frowned a bit. He did not understand this whim of Susette’s and when he did not understand a thing he condemned it. Why should Susette want to run away from his house party on some mad, mysterious excursion of her own to Glen St. Mary? But there was a mutinous tilt to Susette’s beautiful chin that warned him it was of no use to protest.

She drew a long breath as she spun out of the Glenellyn gates. There was a delightful road ahead of her. Not a straight road. A straight road was an abomination to Susette, who loved curves and dips.

She wondered what had become of all the half and third cousins who had had such fun at the farm with her. And the Blythes and Merediths who were there half their time. She had lost track of them all ... forgotten all of them except Letty, who had been her special pal, and Jack Bell, who was so straight and stiff and was nicknamed Ding-dong ... and Dick. She could never forget Dick, the bully and braggart and tell-tale. She had hated him. Everybody had hated him. She remembered how he used to fight with young Jem Blythe, who took after Jem, Sr., in his liking for a good rousing fight in a good cause.

“What a little pig he was!” remembered Susette. “If he had been ugly one could have forgiven him. But he
was
a good-looking kid. He had fine eyes ... big grey devilish eyes. I wonder what has become of him. He’ll be married, of course. He’d have to have a wife to bully as soon as he could. Oh, I’d love to meet Dick again and slap his face ... as Di Meredith once did.”

Big clouds had come up when Susette finally turned in at the well-remembered gate of the farm at Glen St. Mary. Her heart bounded to see the same wooden gateposts. The old house was there still, unchanged ... the old lawn, the old garden, the gleam of the pond through the dark old spruces. Everything was trim and shipshape so it was evident that Roddy or somebody still lived there. But it was equally evident that the place was temporarily deserted. A thunder-storm was certainly coming up and if she couldn’t get into the house it behooved her to scuttle back to Glenellyn.

She was on the point of turning sorrowfully away, when a young man came around the corner of the house and stopped to look at her. He was in flying kit and it was fourteen years since she had seen him.

“Why, Dick—Dick,” she said.

She ran to him with outstretched hands. She was glad to see even Dick. Hateful as he had always been, he was still a part of the old life that had suddenly become so near and real again.

Dick took her hands and pulled her a little nearer. He looked earnestly into her green eyes and Susette felt a queer inexplicable thrill such as no look of Harvey’s had ever given her.

“This must be Susette—Susette King,” said Dick slowly. “Nobody else could have those eyes. They always made me think of Mrs. Dr. Blythe’s.”

“Yes, it’s Susette. I’m staying at Glenellyn ... the Brooks’ summer place, you know.”

“Yes, I know. Everybody knows Glenellyn.” He seemed to have forgotten to let go of her hands.

“And when I found it was so near, I just had to come. I think I expected to find the old gang and perhaps some of the Blythes. But nobody seems to be at home. Who lives here now? Where did you drop from, Dick?”

Susette was rattling on because she didn’t know just what had happened to her and she was afraid to find out. But she remembered that she had hated Dick ... they had all hated Dick ... and pulled away her hands.

“Roddy and his wife live here. I’ve been staying with them for a few days ... before going back to my station. I’m in the bomber ferry service, you see, and I’m leaving tomorrow. I very nearly left this morning. Thank any gods there be that I didn’t.”

Something darted into Susette’s memory. This Dick had once kissed her against her will and she had slapped his face for it. She didn’t know why her face should burn over the recollection. Or why it should all at once have ceased to be an enraging humiliation. When Jem Blythe had wanted to make her mad he used to tease her about it.

“I ought to thank them too,” she laughed, “because since you’re staying here you can probably let me into the house if it starts to rain. I
do
want to see all round the place now that I’m here, but I wouldn’t have dared to stay for fear of a downpour.”

“You always had a nice laugh, Susette,” said Dick. “There’s nothing like it in the whole gang ... except perhaps Di Meredith’s. And your eyes ... what colour are they really? I never could decide ... of course it’s hard to photograph grey-green starlight. I used to think they were a little like Mrs. Dr. Gilbert Blythe’s.”

“Whom you hated,” thought Susette. “You didn’t make such pretty speeches in the old days.” All at once ... everything seemed to be happening all at once this amazing afternoon ... it seemed to her vastly important that Dick should know she had always hated him ... always would hate him. “Do you remember how we fought? How I detested you? How we all detested you?”

“We certainly didn’t hit it off when we were kids,” admitted Dick. “But ... be fair now, Susette, was I altogether to blame?”

“You were,” cried Susette passionately ... much more passionately than there seemed any need for. “You were always doing the meanest things. Do you remember how you pushed me into that bed of nettles and ruined my pink chiffon dress ... and called attention to my freckles before everybody ... and burned my doll at the stake ... and filled poor Bruno’s coat with burrs and ... and ...”

“Kissed you,” said Dick with an impish grin.

“And do you remember what a whack on the nose I gave you for it?” cried Susette with relish. “How you bled!”

“Of course I was a little beast in those days ... but it is all so long ago. Just forget for this afternoon that you hate me ... though I’d rather you’d hate me than think nothing about me if it comes to that. Let’s have a prowl around all the old spots. If you don’t like me you needn’t pretend to.”

“I really ought to go back, you know,” sighed Susette. “It’s going to rain and Harvey will be peeved.”

“Who is Harvey?”

“The man I’m going to marry,” said Susette, wondering why she felt so keen to let Dick know that.

Dick took it in slowly. Then ...

“Oh, of course ... the big fox man. But you’re not wearing any ring ... I looked to see first thing.”

“It ... it isn’t absolutely settled yet,” stammered Susette. “But it will be tonight. He’s going to propose tonight. That’s really why I ran away today. I think ...”

“Of course I’ve heard of the great fox man. Everybody has,” said Dick slowly. “Well, he has a good start on me but a fast worker can do wonders in an afternoon, as Jem Blythe used to say.”

“Don’t talk nonsense,” said Susette curtly. “Let’s prowl. I want to see all I can before it does rain. I’m glad the farm hasn’t changed much. Even the old white-washed stones round the flowerbeds are the same.”

“Susette, you are beyond any question the most exquisite creature I have ever seen,” said Dick.

“Do you say that to every girl half an hour after you’ve met her? Remember I’ve long since crossed the old maid line.”

“If I’d ever happened to think it I would ... but I never happened to before. I decided recently that I’d always say what I really thought the moment I thought it. Mrs. Ken Ford once said she always did. You’ve no idea what pep it gives to life. And things go stale if you keep them unsaid.”

“I daresay.” Susette wondered what would happen if she said everything she thought ... just when she thought it ... to Harvey. And she wondered why she only half-liked Dick’s frequent reference to the Blythes and Merediths. He had hated them in the old days.

“Besides, it isn’t half an hour since I met you ... it’s years. We’re second cousins, aren’t we? And old fr ... enemies. So why shouldn’t I say that you’re exquisite and beautiful and wholly charming, with hair like the sunset light on old firs and eyes like that pond down there at dawn and a skin like a tea-rose petal?”

“Do you remember the time when you pointed out all my defects to the assembled gang?” demanded Susette. “You said my hair was like a stack of dried hay and that I had eyes like a cat and a million freckles. Jem Blythe knocked you down for it,” she added, with a feeling of gratitude to Jem Blythe.

“My aunt, there you go again,” groaned Dick. “Why can’t you let the dead past bury its dead?”

“Why, indeed?” Susette wondered herself. Why did she feel that she
must
drag up these things ... remember how hateful Dick had been ... must not let herself forget it for a single moment? Because he couldn’t have changed really. People didn’t. He had just learned to cover up his meanness with a certain debonair charm made possible by his indisputable good looks. Suddenly Susette felt oddly panic-stricken. She must start for Glenellyn instantly before ... well, before it rained.

“You can’t,” said Dick. “There’s the first growl. You will be sensible and come into the house until the storm is over. Then we’ll finish our prowl. There’s the big stone Anne Blythe fell on off the apple tree. Do you remember how terrified we were that she was killed?”

Couldn’t he remember anything but those hateful Blythe girls? She would simply ignore his references.

“It is five now,” she protested. “If I don’t start at once I shall be late for dinner.”

“I can get you a bite. Anne Blythe taught me how to cook ...”

“I don’t believe it! Anne always hated you,” cried Susette, stung out of the resolution.

Dick grinned.

“Anne and I were a good deal better friends than you knew, though we did fight in public. Anyway it’s out of the question to think of starting to Glenellyn with a storm coming on. You were always a fearless little demon, so I’ve heard, but that is a thing I’m simply not going to let you do. You know what our Island roads are like in a rain.”

Susette yielded. She knew she couldn’t negotiate that winding road in a rainstorm ... it would be hard enough after it was over. Besides, she wanted to scare Harvey just once as a sort of dying protest. Moreover, she felt that she had not yet made Dick realize that she hated him as much as ever. And she was not going to leave the farm until that job was completed.

They went into the house. It was changed ... new furniture ... new curtains ... new rugs ... new paint. But the old rooms were unchanged. Susette ran all through them while Dick did something in the kitchen. When she came back to the living room ... it had been the parlour in her childhood ... the rain was flooding against the windows and the thunder was crashing overhead. Ordinarily Susette revelled in thunderstorms. She wondered if Harvey would worry. She did not think Aunt Clara would.

Dick came in from the kitchen carrying a tray whereon was a pot of tea, a plate of toast, and a jar of jam. He went to the corner cupboard and took out dishes ... Aunt Marian’s old fluted set with the rosebud on the side and her little brown jug with its creamy lining.

“You remember Di Meredith gave her this in place of one she broke?”

What a memory he had for everything connected with that Blythe clan! But Susette put them resolutely out of her mind.

“Oh,” she sighed, “this toast is heavenly.”

“I had a good teacher, don’t forget,” grinned Dick. “Pull up to the table and let us break bread together. Don’t forget to compliment me on my tea. I’m an expert at making tea.”

“I suppose Anne Blythe taught you,” Susette could not help saying.

“She gave me some hints. But I had a natural gift for it.”

“Boastful as ever.” But she sat down at the table obediently. The tea
was
good; so was the toast; it seemed hard to think of Dick making toast. As for the jam it had evidently been made from old Susan Baker’s famous recipe. It had been known all over the Glen St. Mary neighbourhood.

“A jug of tea, a crust of bread and
thou
,” said Dick impudently. Susette refused ... temporarily ... to resent it. But why, oh why, should it be so delightful to sit in this half dark room drinking tea and munching toast with detested Dick?

“I ought to telephone Glenellyn,” she said weakly.

“You can’t. This line never works in thunderstorms. If I were Harvey Brooks I’d be scouring the countryside for you. Susette, did any poor devil ever tell you that the way you looked over your shoulder at him drove him entirely mad? It eclipses even Rilla Ford’s famous smile.”

“Do you remember,” said Susette slowly, “how, when we were going to play Robinson Crusoe, you wouldn’t let me be Man Friday because I was a girl?”

“And quite right I was! How could Crusoe have a distracting Man Friday like you? I showed my sense. I remember the Blythes agreed with me.”

“If he mentions a Blythe again I’ll throw that pitcher at his head,” thought Susette.

Much later ... it might have been hours ... months ... years ... Susette awoke to the fact that although the thunder and lightening had ceased the rain was still pouring down in a business-like way as if it meant to keep on for days. She looked at her watch and exclaimed in dismay.

“Half past six! It will be dinner time in an hour at Glenellyn. I can never get there!”

“I should think you couldn’t,” said Dick. “Have some sense, Susette. The road from here will be absolutely impassable for that little car of yours. You can’t go back tonight. You’ve just got to stay here.”