"A Man May Not Marry His Grandmother" Chapters IV-VI [pp. 126-137]

APPLETONS' JO URNAL.
some instrument, or, better still, sing some plaintive melody."
"That is, you would like me to do the work
for you when you were lazy? Thank you. I
like my thoughts better than jingling sound."
"Then pray let me have your thoughts."
"They are not enough my own yet for me to
give them away," she replied presently. "Various things were passing through my mind....
Shakespeare's daughter sang, did she not? I
think you told me so."
" Yes. I never heard her sing anything very
plaintive, though. How came you to speak of
her?"
"Oh, she was one of the various things that
passed through my mind.... I think I should
like to see her.... No, I should not."
"You would rather fancy her, eh?"
"It is not that.... When did you see her
last?" she suddenly turned to him and asked.
"I saw her yesterday." He tried to speak
carelessly, and he was vexed that so slight a matter should discompose him. "I went in last
evening for a few minutes. It was a good while
since I had seen her father, and I did not want
him to think me neglectful of him."
"After you were here?"
"Yes. You know you sent me away while it
was still early. You said you had some work
you wanted to do by yourself."
"What do you do when you go there? Do
you discuss Shakespeare and the musical glasses?
Tell me what you did last night."
Marcia was looking keenly at him.
"I found two or three friends of the family
there, and the' divine Williams' was playing the
fiddle. Have I told you what a virtuoso he is?
He plays the fiddle with all his might. It is positively exhilarating to hear him, and you would
hardly know him for the rather fierce-looking
dramatist who accosted you once with such aggressive politeness."
"And they were dancing, I suppose?"
"Yes, having a very merry time."
"Dancing Irish jigs?"
"Dancing Irish jigs. Innocent Irish jigs."
"And you put your arms akimbo, I suppose,
and danced with them?"
"This dreadful fact is unquestionably more
dreadful from having been extorted from me an
inch at a time."
"I am sorry I can not offer you any jigs for
your entertainment."
"Why so scornful? Do you think I have
been taking these pleasant evenings here this
winter in anxious expectation that you would at
length propose an evening of jigs and breakdowns?"
"I don't dancer"
"Susanna Shakespeare says I can't. Please
tell me what you were doing when I was off on
this disreputable rout?"
"No, I will not. I did mean to, but I can not
now. I will go with you Thursday on one condition."
"What is that? Do not make it too easy."
"That you will not go to the Shakespeares
before we go." She turned away, though she
had been looking him before in the face.
"Poh! Make a harder condition than that."
"Well, that you will not want to go."
"That's easily accepted," said he, gayly.
It lacked but a day or two before Thursday,
and Devons was for some reason out of tune for
work. He could not pin himself to his desk,
and spent much of the time sauntering about
the streets. The condition imposed upon him he
had found no difficulty in accepting, yet the recollection of Half-moon Court persistently came
to him. He tried to banish it as constructively
disloyal, and used the remembrance of his many
evenings with Marcia Church as an expulsive
power; so it was that he seemed in his mind to
be running back and forth between the two
houses. It was a relief on Thursday to present
himself bodily at Ash Street. Mrs. Church received him cordially.
"I'm glad you are going to take Marcia out
to-day, Mr. Devons. The poor girl is growing
pale with so much confinement, and if she goes
on like this I shall have to take her to the shore
again. Do you know, I don't believe it's wholly
the library work?" She looked very mysterious,
and Devons had an uncomfortable feeling that
she was implying some understanding with him.
"I think-now mind, I don't say it-but I think
she's writing a book."
"That would certainly account for her pallor," said Devons, "but I myself had not noticed
any special paleness. I thought the other night
I never had seen her looking better."
"She always does look better when you're
here. She don't get much other company, and
company always brightens her up; that is, some
company. But I'm pretty sure it's a book. Oh,
there she is!-Marcia, don't you let Mr. Devons
tire you out. You know he tells us he's a great
walker."
"I have two gaits, Mrs. Church, and my fastday gait is my slower.-Miss Marcia, this day
is made for us. The east wind has gone off to
sea."
"To bring your ship in, no doubt," said Mrs.
Church, looking with admiration at the two
young people as they set out on their excursion.
They had chosen, at Marcia's suggestion, a direction which took them through an adjacent
town famous for its college; she had not been
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