Emily's Quest (1927)

Chapter 24

I

Ilse came in May--a gay, laughing Ilse. Almost too gay and laughing, Emily thought. Ilse had always been a merry, irresponsible creature; but not quite so unceasingly so as now. She never had a serious mood, apparently. She made a jest of everything, even her marriage. Aunt Elizabeth and Aunt Laura were quite shocked at her. A girl who was so soon to assume the responsibilities of wedded life should be more thoughtful and sober. Ilse told Emily they were mid-Victorian screams. She chatted ceaselessly when she and Emily were together, but never talked to her, despite the desire expressed in her letters for old-time spiels. Perhaps she was not quite all to blame for this. Emily, in spite of her determination to be exactly the same as of yore, could not help a certain restraint and reserve, born of her secret pain and her fierce determination to hide it. Ilse felt the restraint, though wholly unsuspicious of the cause. Emily was just naturally growing a little bit New Moonish, that was all, living there alone with those dear old antediluvians.

"When Teddy and I come back and set up house in Montreal you must spend every winter with us, darling. New Moon is a dear place in summer, but in winter you must be absolutely buried alive."

Emily made no promises. She did not see herself as a guest in Teddy's home. Every night she told herself she could not possibly endure tomorrow. But when to-morrow came it was livable. It was even possible to talk dress and details calmly with Ilse. The harebell blue dress became a reality and Emily tried it on two nights before Teddy was expected home. The wedding was only two weeks away now.

"You look like a dream in it, Emily," said Ilse, stretched out on Emily's bed with the grace and abandon of a cat--Teddy's sapphire blotting her finger darkly. "You'll make all my velvet and lace gorgeousness look obvious and crude. Did I tell you Teddy is bringing Lorne Halsey with him for best man? I'm positively thrilled--the great Halsey. His mother has been so ill he didn't think he could come. But the obliging old lady has suddenly recovered and he's actually coming. His new book is a wow. Everybody in Montreal was raving over it and he's the most interesting and improbable creature. Wouldn't it be wonderful if you and he were to fall in love with each other, Emily?"

"Don't go matchmaking for me, Ilse," said Emily with a faint smile, as she took off the harebell dress. "I feel in my bones that I shall achieve old-maidenhood, which is an entirely different thing from having old-maidenhood thrust upon you."

"To be sure, he looks like a gargoyle," said Ilse meditatively. "If it hadn't been for that I think I might have married him myself. I'm almost sure I could have. His way of making love was to ask me my opinion about things. That was agreeable. But I had a hunch that if we were married he would stop asking for my opinion. That would not be agreeable. Besides, nobody could ever tell what he really thought. He might be looking as though he adored you and thinking he saw crow's-feet around your eyes. By the way, isn't Teddy the most beautiful thing?"

"He was always a nice-looking boy."

"'A nice-looking boy,'" mimicked Ilse. "Emily Starr, if you ever do marry I hope your husband will chain you in the dog-kennel. I'll be calling you Aunt Emily in a minute. Why, there's nobody in Montreal who can hold a candle to him. It's his looks I love really--not him. Sometimes he bores me--really. Although I was so sure he wouldn't. He never did before we were engaged. I have a premonition that some day I'll throw the teapot at him. Isn't it a pity we can't have two husbands? One to look at and one to talk to. But Teddy and I will be by way of being a stunning couple, won't we, honey? He so dark--I so fair. Ideal. I've always wished I was 'a dark ladye'--like you--but when I said so to Teddy he just laughed and quoted the old verse,

'If the bards of old the truth have told
The sirens have raven hair.
But over the earth since art had birth,
They paint the angels fair.'

That's the nearest Teddy will ever get to calling me an angel. Luckily. For when all's said and done, Emily, I'd rather--are you sure the door is shut so that Aunt Laura won't drop dead?--I'd much rather be a siren than an angel. Wouldn't you?"