Only an Incident | Page 6

larder. With these new and younger
elements the talk varied a little. They discussed last night's party, the
supper, the dresses, the people, and then the probabilities of to-night's
party, the people, the dresses, the supper. And then Dick made a
sensation by saying right out, that he had just met Mr. Upjohn on Main
Street with Mrs. Bruce, holding a parasol gallantly over her head. And
everybody looked at once at Mrs. Upjohn, and then back at the
graceless Dick, and an awful silence succeeded, broken by Mrs.
Upjohn's reaching out her hand and saying in the tone of a Miss
Cushman on the stage: "Dick, dear, I'll take another cookie." If Mr.
Upjohn chose to walk down town shielding women's complexions for
them, why in the world should she trouble herself about it, beyond
making sure that he did not by mistake take her parasol for the kindly
office? And so the talk went on, people coming and people going, and
Mrs. Lane did up a whole basketful of work undisturbed, and Phebe
inwardly chafed and fumed and longed for dinner-time, that at last the
ceaseless, aimless chatter might come to an end.

She went to the party that night, because in Joppa everybody had to go
when asked. To refuse was considered tantamount to an open
declaration of war, unless in case of illness, and then it almost required
a doctor's certificate to get one off. It was a good law and ensured the
suppers being disposed of. There was no dancing to-night, it being an
understood thing that when Mrs. Upjohn was asked there should be
none or she would not come; but there was music. Bell Masters had a
very nice contralto voice, and was always willing to sing, thus sure of
securing one of Joppa's few young gentlemen to stand by and turn over
her leaves; she thoughtfully took her music on that account, giving out
that she could not play without notes. Phebe had been doing her best all
unconsciously to herself to help her hosts entertain, but when the
singing began she stole away to the nearly empty piazza, and stood
leaning by the window, enjoying the cool air and softly whistling an
accompaniment to the song; and there Mr. Halloway found her. She
looked up at him and smiled as he joined her, but went on with her low,
sweet whistling all the same.
"I like that better than the singing," he said, when at last it came to an
end with the music.
"You ought not to, Mr. Halloway. Don't you know it's very unlady-like
to whistle? Mrs. Upjohn puts Maria to bed for it."
"Dear me. I must take care she doesn't ever catch me at it. Ah! the dress
has ironed nicely, hasn't it? Would you mind standing out a little from
the shadow?"
Phebe moved a step forward into the stream of light that shot across the
piazza from the open window, and stood so, looking up at him out of
her soft white muslin draperies and white ribbons, not a ray of color
about her anywhere, like a very material and sweet little ghost.
"Yes, you look very nice, very nice indeed," he said, after a grave
inspection that took in every detail of face and figure. A young,
innocent face it was, with soft brown hair as bright and as fine as silk,
all turned back from a low forehead, around which it grew in the very
prettiest way in the world, and gathered in loose braids in the neck; and

she had such a fresh, clear complexion, and such honest, loving, gray
eyes, and such a round, girlish figure,--how was it people never made
more of her prettiness?
"I think you look nicer than any one here," Mr. Halloway added, in
thorough conviction. "You must be an adept in ironing." Phebe laughed
softly in pure pleasure. It was so new to have such pretty things said to
her. "Would it be very wrong to slip away together for a rest?" he
continued, leading her a little farther along. "Let us sit down on the
steps here and recruit. I have talked my throat hoarse to each of the
very deafest old ladies in turn,--I suppose they came here purposely to
be screeched at,--and I saw you working valiantly among the old men.
What a place this is for longevity!"
"You are finding out its characteristics by degrees, I see."
"Yes, am I not?" said he, with his pleasant laugh. "I know intimately
every member of my parish and every member of every other parish by
this time from sheer hearsay. Each house I visit gives me no end of
valuable and minute information about all the other houses. I am
waiting to come out with a