Chapter XIII

And I for no woman.—_As You Like It_, v, 2.

“I won’t sit down,” said Jean. “You can boss Miss Esther as much as you like, but you needn’t think that I’m going to do exactly as you say. I am in the habit of doing the ordering myself. That is the divine right of an only child.”

“An only child needn’t be a spoiled child,” said Putnam, lazily.

“I’m not a spoiled child,” and Jean’s eyes flashed; “nobody ever said that before!”

“I don’t object to being a pioneer. The rôle has always appealed to me.”

“Well, don’t indulge your proclivities in this undiscovered country.”

“Why not?”

Putnam regarded Jean deliberately, and with an expression of amused curiosity. He was an unusually handsome man, and his magnificent physique gave an impression of resolute power to a degree rare, even in a soldier. This impression was in no way lessened, but was rather accented by his present condition of physical helplessness. Stretched at full length in a steamer-chair, and consequently incapable of active exertion, he still showed unmistakable evidence of an immense amount of reserve force. It was this air of indolently conscious superiority which proved so excessively tantalizing to Jean.

She sat down in a low chair beside him, and resting her chin in her hands, gazed straight into his eyes.

“Why not?” repeated Putnam.

“Because I won’t stand it. You’re the spoiled child yourself. You always have your own way, irrespective of what anybody else wants, and it makes me furious to have you think that you can order me about as you do others. You shan’t do it!”

“Why not?” said Putnam again.

He still looked at her quizzically with the added provocation of a slight patronizing smile. Jean flushed angrily. Putnam changed his position, but with difficulty, and the expression of pain which came into his eyes roused all Jean’s instincts of helpfulness. Without realizing what she was doing, she rose and took a pillow from the hammock. This she placed under Putnam’s shoulder, and with quick, deft touches patted it into exactly the right position.

“Thank you,” he said, with a grave courtesy quite at variance with his former teasing mood. Jean flushed again, but this time it was not with anger. She could not have analyzed the reason even if she had tried. It was simply the charm of Putnam Adams’s personality. Splendid physical strength and an iron will, with a calm, consummate indifference, born of unqualified self-confidence, make the most attractive combination possible in a man, and he possessed these qualities in their perfection. Possibly the consciousness of this had added to his manner a little too great a touch of autocracy, but this was always forgiven him, because, when necessary, Putnam Adams commanded forgiveness with the same assurance that he commanded everything else.

And so this personality appealed to Jean, not only because of its effectiveness with all women, but because this was the first time that a man of this stamp had come within her experience. She was a little bewildered by it, and in consequence lost much of her self-confident ability to hold her own against any odds.

Indeed, it was otherwise inexplicable that she, the high-handed dispenser of begged-for favors, should, not only without invitation, but without volition, have bestowed upon an outrageously indifferent beneficiary a favor which, however casual it might seem, was really a tribute to his masterfulness. She was conquered, although she didn’t know it.

Putnam Adams knew it, but he did not tell her.

* * * * *

After a few weeks of rest and Miss Esther’s care, Putnam’s condition improved to such an extent that he was able to get about without his crutches, and was able to take his place in the sextette which had many excursions by automobile and otherwise in the surrounding country about Whitfield.

The Westcott party had gone on to the Adirondacks, after promising to stop at Miss Esther’s on the way back. After Mark’s departure, Chub had transferred her affections to Abraham Lincoln Dodd, whom she called Linkum, and whom she alternately petted and tyrannized over.

One morning Dodd lay on his back on the lawn, looking up at a very blue sky, and Chub amused herself by piling leaves upon his face.

“I’m a wobin,” she said, gleefully, “and you’re my Babeth in the Woodth.”

“I knew a robin once,—” began Dodd.

“A nither wobin than me?”

“No, not nicer than you, except that that robin didn’t put sand in my eyes.”

“Wath it a weally wobin?”

“Yes, a really robin, with feathers. We were great friends.”

“I have a friend—he’th a chipmuk; and I have ’nother friend, and he’th a tagger; and I have ’nother friend, and he’th a—a—a—Bear—a awful big Bear; and I had ’nother friend, and he wath a little kittypillar—but he ranned away.”

“Is your bear a really bear?” asked Dodd.

“Oh, yeth; a big live bear with featherth, and he livth wight over there.”

With a comprehensive sweep of her dimpled arm, Chub vaguely indicated the habitat of the bear.

“Lovely!” said Dodd. “And do the tiger and chipmunk live there, too?”

“Yeth, we all live there, and we have thupper together and the tagger eath bread and milk, and the chipmuk eath cuthtard, and the bear—”

“Eats the caterpillar?” questioned Dodd.

“No, he didn’t. The little kittypillar ranned away, cauth the bear theen him go, and he ranned acroth the woad and acroth the brook and acroth the fenth, he ranned awful fatht.”

“Did you run after him?”

“Yeth, and I felled in the brook and got all drownded up, and the chipmuk come ’long and he felled in the brook, and the tagger come ’long and he felled in the brook, and the bear come ’long and he felled in the brook, and the chipmuk come ’long and he felled in the brook, and—”

“Oh, you had the chipmunk in the brook before.”

“Yeth, but he felled in two timeth; and the bear come ’long—”

But the end of this thrilling tale was lost to history, and so far as we know authoritatively, the animals are still in the brook, for just at this moment Chub’s nurse appeared and carried the baby off for her morning nap.

Dodd rose, brushed off the leaves and wisps of grass with which Chub had favored him, and went into the house in search of Miss Esther. When he reached the hall he saw her in the library.

As he entered the room, she said, apparently to nobody, “They are all doing beautifully, except Winthrop Brewster. I cannot understand, Cassius,” she said, “what is the matter with that man. I’m sure he cares a lot about Helen, and last night I managed to leave them alone on the East porch, and,” seeing Dodd in the doorway, “if you’ll believe me, Lincoln Dodd, nothing came of it!”

“You don’t mean it!” said Dodd.

“Yes, I do, and I was just telling Cassius—”

“I heard you address Cassius. Is he a dog?”

“No, I mean Caius Cassius. I often talk to my books—especially when I want advice.”

“Do you often get it?”

“Always, if I ask the right ones.”

“How do you know who are the right ones?”

“My intuitions tell me, and just now they tell me that you are the one.”

“I’m a good adviser,” said Dodd.

“Yes, I believe you are, and that is why I’m going to ask you seriously about a very important matter.”

“Do,” he replied. “I’ve been wanting excitement of some kind.”

“Well, this will be exciting enough, I promise you. It’s nothing more nor less than that you are to get married,—sooner than you expect to.”

“To you? All right!”

“No. Don’t be foolish. Not to me. But really, a rich young man like you are, and a good man, and a kind man, ought to make some girl happy.”

“But perhaps it wouldn’t make me happy,” said Dodd.

“Oh, don’t attempt to be coy with me. I understand perfectly how the land lies, and I am thoroughly pleased, I can assure you. Lillian Hastings is one of the dearest girls I know, and—”

“Good Heavens! Miss Esther, what in the world are you talking about?”

“Oh, anybody can see with half an eye that you’re in love with her.”

“But I’m not. I’m not a bit in love with Miss Hastings or with any other lady, and I never wish to marry or be given in marriage.”

“You’re not in love with Lillian Hastings!”

Miss Esther dropped onto the sofa. She looked the picture of woe.

“Et tu, Brute!” she said. “Another candidate defeated!”