sunshine sketches of a little town-第22部分

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With　hands　clasped　she　would　sit　there　dreaming　all　the　beautiful
day…dreams　of　girlhood。　When　you　saw　that　faraway　look　in　her　eyes；
it　meant　that　she　was　dreaming　that　a　plumed　and　armoured　knight　was
rescuing　her　from　the　embattled　keep　of　a　castle　beside　the　Danube。
At　other　times　she　was　being　borne　away　by　an　Algerian　corsair　over
the　blue　waters　of　the　Mediterranean　and　was　reaching　out　her　arms
towards　France　to　say　farewell　to　it。

Sometimes　when　you　noticed　a　sweet　look　of　resignation　that　seemed　to
rest　upon　her　features；　it　meant　that　Lord　Ronald　de　Chevereux　was
kneeling　at　her　feet；　and　that　she　was　telling　him　to　rise；　that　her
humbler　birth　must　ever　be　a　bar　to　their　happiness；　and　Lord　Ronald
was　getting　into　an　awful　state　about　it；　as　English　peers　do　at　the
least　suggestion　of　anything　of　the　sort。

Or；　if　it　wasn't　that；　then　her　lover　had　just　returned　to　her　side；
tall　and　soldierly　and　sunburned；　after　fighting　for　ten　years　in　the
Soudan　for　her　sake；　and　had　come　back　to　ask　her　for　her　answer　and
to　tell　her　that　for　ten　years　her　face　had　been　with　him　even　in　the
watches　of　the　night。　He　was　asking　her　for　a　sign；　any　kind　of
sign；ten　years　in　the　Soudan　entitles　them　to　a　sign；and　Zena　was
plucking　a　white　rose；　just　one；　from　her　hair；　when　she　would　hear
her　father's　step　on　the　piazza　and　make　a　grab　for　the　Pioneers　of
Tecumseh　Township；　and　start　reading　it　like　mad。

She　was　always；　as　I　say；　being　rescued　and　being　borne　away；　and
being　parted；　and　reaching　out　her　arms　to　France　and　to　Spain；　and
saying　good…bye　forever　to　Valladolid　or　the　old　grey　towers　of
Hohenbranntwein。

And　I　don't　mean　that　she　was　in　the　least　exceptional　or　romantic；
because　all　the　girls　in　Mariposa　were　just　like　that。　An　Algerian
corsair　could　have　come　into　the　town　and　had　a　dozen　of　them　for　the
asking；　and　as　for　a　wounded　English　officer；well；　perhaps　it's
better　not　to　talk　about　it　outside　or　the　little　town　would　become　a
regular　military　hospital。

Because；　mind　you；　the　Mariposa　girls　are　all　right。　You've　only　to
look　at　them　to　realize　that。　You　see；　you　can　get　in　Mariposa　a
print　dress　of　pale　blue　or　pale　pink　for　a　dollar　twenty　that　looks
infinitely　better　than　anything　you　ever　see　in　the　city；especially
if　you　can　wear　with　it　a　broad　straw　hat　and　a　background　of　maple
trees　and　the　green　grass　of　a　tennis　court。　And　if　you　remember；
too；　that　these　are　cultivated　girls　who　have　all　been　to　the
Mariposa　high　school　and　can　do　decimal　fractions；　you　will
understand　that　an　Algerian　corsair　would　sharpen　his　scimitar　at　the
very　sight　of　them。

Don't　think　either　that　they　are　all　dying　to　get　married；　because
they　are　not。　I　don't　say　they　wouldn't　take　an　errant　knight；　or　a
buccaneer　or　a　Hungarian　refugee；　but　for　the　ordinary　marriages　of
ordinary　people　they　feel　nothing　but　a　pitying　disdain。　So　it　is
that　each　one　of　them　in　due　time　marries　an　enchanted　prince　and
goes　to　live　in　one　of　the　little　enchanted　houses　in　the　lower　part
of　the　town。

I　don't　know　whether　you　know　it；　but　you　can　rent　an　enchanted　house
in　Mariposa　for　eight　dollars　a　month；　and　some　of　the　most
completely　enchanted　are　the　cheapest。　As　for　the　enchanted　princes；
they　find　them　in　the　strangest　places；　where　you　never　expected　to
see　them；　workingunder　a　spell；　you　understand；in　drug…stores　and
printing　offices；　and　even　selling　things　in　shops。　But　to　be　able　to
find　them　you　have　first　to　read　ever　so　many　novels　about　Sir
Galahad　and　the　Errant　Quest　and　that　sort　of　thing。

Naturally　then　Zena　Pepperleigh；　as　she　sat　on　the　piazza；　dreamed　of
bandits　and　of　wounded　officers　and　of　Lord　Ronalds　riding　on
foam…flecked　chargers。　But　that　she　ever　dreamed　of　a　junior　bank
teller　in　a　daffodil　blazer　riding　past　on　a　bicycle；　is　pretty　hard
to　imagine。　So；　when　Mr。　Pupkin　came　tearing　past　up　the　slope　of
Oneida　Street　at　a　speed　that　proved　that　he　wasn't　riding　there
merely　to　pass　the　house；　I　don't　suppose　that　Zena　Pepperleigh　was
aware　of　his　existence。

That　may　be　a　slight　exaggeration。　She　knew；　perhaps；　that　he　was　the
new　junior　teller　in　the　Exchange　Bank　and　that　he　came　from　the
Maritime　Provinces；　and　that　nobody　knew　who　his　people　were；　and
that　he　had　never　been　in　a　canoe　in　his　life　till　he　came　to
Mariposa；　and　that　he　sat　four　pews　back　in　Dean　Drone's　church；　and
that　his　salary　was　eight　hundred　dollars。　Beyond　that；　she　didn't
know　a　thing　about　him。　She　presumed；　however；　that　the　reason　why　he
went　past　so　fast　was　because　he　didn't　dare　to　go　slow。

This；　of　course；　was　perfectly　correct。　Ever　since　the　day　when　Mr。
Pupkin　met　Zena　in　the　Main　Street　he　used　to　come　past　the　house　on
his　bicycle　just　after　bank　hours。　He　would　have　gone　past　twenty
times　a　day　but　he　was　afraid　to。　As　he　came　up　Oneida　Street；　he
used　to　pedal　faster　and　faster；he　never　meant　to；　but　he　couldn't
help　it；till　he　went　past　the　piazza　where　Zena　was　sitting　at　an
awful　speed　with　his　little　yellow　blazer　flying　in　the　wind。　In　a
second　he　had　disappeared　in　a　buzz　and　a　cloud　of　dust；　and　the
momentum　of　it　carried　him　clear　out　into　the　country　for　miles　and
miles　before　he　ever　dared　to　pause　or　look　back。

Then　Mr。　Pupkin　would　ride　in　a　huge　circuit　about　the　country；
trying　to　think　he　was　looking　at　the　crops；　and　sooner　or　later　his
bicycle　would　be　turned　towards　the　town　again　and　headed　for　Oneida
Street；　and　would　get　going　quicker　and　quicker　and　quicker；　till　the
pedals　whirled　round　with　a　buzz　and　he　came　past　the　judge's　house
again；　like　a　bullet　out　of　a　gun。　He　rode　fifteen　miles　to　pass　the
house　twice；　and　even　then　it　took　all　the　nerve　that　he　had。

The　people　on　Oneida　Street　thought　that　Mr。　Pupkin　was　crazy；　but
Zena　Pepperleigh　knew　that　he　was　not。　Already；　you　see；　there　was　a
sort　of　dim　parallel　between　the　passing　of　the　bicycle　and　the　last
ride　of　Tancred　the　Inconsolable　along　the　banks　of　the　Danube。

I　have　already　mentioned；　I　think；　how　Mr。　Pupkin　and　Zena
Pepperleigh　first　came　to　know　one　another。　Like　everything　else
about　them；　it　was　a　sheer　matter　of　coincidence；　quite　inexplicable
unless　you　understand　that　these　things　are　fore…ordained。

That；　of　course；　is　the　way　with　fore…ordained　affairs　and　that's
where　they　differ　from　ordinary　love。

I　won't　even　try　to　describe　how　Mr。　Pupkin　felt　when　he　first　spoke
with　Zena　and　sat　beside　her　as　they　copied　out　the　〃endless　chain〃
letter　asking　for　ten　cents。　They　wrote　out；　as　I　said；　no　less　than
eight　of　the　letters　between　them；　and　they　found　out　that　their
handwritings　were　so　alike　that　you　could　hardly　tell　them　apart；
except　that　Pupkin's　letters　were　round　and　Zena's　letters　were
pointed　and　Pupkin　wrote　straight　up　and　down　and　Zena　wrote　on　a
slant。　Beyond　that　the　writing　was　so　alike　that　it　was　the　strangest
coincidence　in　the　world。　Of　course　when　they　made　figures　it　was
different　and　Pupkin　explained　to　Zena　that　in　the　bank　you　have　to
be　able　to　make　a　seven　so　that　it　doesn't　look　like　a　nine。

So；　as　I　say；　they　wrote　the　letters　all　afternoon　and　when　it　was
over　they　walked　up　Oneida　Street　together；　ever　so　slowly。　When　they
got　near　the　house；　Zena　asked　Pupkin　to　come　in　to　tea；　with　such　an
easy　off…hand　way　that　you　couldn't　have　told　that　she　was　half　an
hour　late　and　was　taking　awful　chances　on　the　judge。　Pupkin　hadn't
had　time　to　say　yes　before　the　judge　appeared　at　the　door；　just　as
they　were　stepping　up　on　to　the　piazza；　and　he　had　a　table　napkin　in
his　hand　and　the　dynamite　sparks　were　flying　from　his　spectacles　as
he　called　out：

〃Great　heaven！　Zena；　why　in　everlasting　blazes　can't　you　get　in　to
tea　at　a　Christian　hour？〃

Zena　gave　one　look　of　appeal　to　Pupkin；　and　Pupkin　looked　one　glance
of　comprehension；　and　turned　and　fled　down　Oneida　Street。　And　if　the
scene　wasn't　quite　as　dramatic　as　the　renunciation　of　Tancred　the
Troubadour；　it　at　least　had　something　of　the　same　elements　in　it。

Pupkin　walked　home　to　his　supper　at　the　Mariposa　House　on　air；　and
that　evening　there　was　a　gentle　distance　in　his　manner　towards　Sadie；
the　dining…room　girl；　that　I　suppose　no　bank　clerk　in　Mariposa　ever
showed　before。　It　was　like　Sir　Galahad　talking　with　the　tire…women　of
Queen　Guinevere　and　receiving　huckleberry　pie　at　their　hands。

After　that　Mr。　Pupkin　and　Zena　Pepperleigh　constantly　met　together。
They　played　tennis　as　partners　on　the　grass　court　behind　Dr。
Gallagher's　house；the　Mariposa　Tennis　Club　rent　it；　you　remember；
for　fifty　cents　a　month；and　Pupkin　used　to　perform　perfect
prodigies　of　valour；　leaping　in　the　air　to　serve　with　his　little　body
hooked　like　a　letter　S。　Sometimes；　too；　they　went　out　on　Lake
Wissanotti　in　the　evening　in　Pupkin's　canoe；　with　Zena　sitting　in　the
bow　and　Pupkin　paddling　in　the　stern　and　they　went　out　ever　so　far
and　it　was　after　dark　and　the　stars　were　shining　before　they　came
home。　Zena　would　look　at　the　stars　and　say　how　infinitely　far　away
they　seemed；　and　Pupkin　would　realize　that　a　girl　with　a　mind　like
that　couldn't　have　any　use　for　a　fool　such　as　him。　Zena　used　to　ask
him　to　point　out　the　Pleiades　and　Jupiter　and　Ursa　minor；　and　Pupkin
showed　her　exactly　where　they　were。　That　impressed　them　both
tremendously；　because　Pupkin　didn't　know　that　Zena　remembered　the
names　out　of　the　astronomy　book　at　her　boarding…school；　and　Zena
didn't　know　that　Pupkin　simply　took　a　chance　on　where　the　stars　were。

And　ever　so　many　times　they　talked　so　intimately　that　Pupkin　came
mighty　near　telling　her　about　his　home　in　the　Maritime　Provinces　and
about　his　father　and　mother；　and　then　kicked　himself　that　he　hadn't
the　manliness　to　speak　straight　out　about　it　and　take　the
consequences。

Please　don't　imagine　from　any　of　this　that　the　course　of　Mr。　Pupkin's
love　ran　smooth。　On　the　contrary；　Pupkin　himself　felt　that　it　was
absolutely　hopeless　from　the　start。

There　were；　it　might　be　admitted；　certain　things　that　seemed　to
indicate　progress。

In　the　course　of　the　months　of　June　and　July　and　August；　he　had　taken
Zena　out　in　his　canoe　thirty…one　times。　Allowing　an　average　of　two
miles　for　each　evening；　Pupk