The Priceless Pearl

								

unaccustomed vivacity. She sketched the interview--Mr. Wood--his
office--the promise--the letters--the turquoise. Horace kept getting
more and more solemn, although it seemed to her that she made a very
good story of it--more amusing perhaps than the reality had been.
"Isn't it exciting?" she said. "I'm going down on Thursday, under this
contract, to stay two months."
"No, you're not," said Horace.
She stared at him. He had never spoken like that in all the years she
had known him.
"What do you mean, dear?" she said rather reprovingly.
"You were so busy telling me about this Adonis you're going to work
for you did not stop to consider that I might have some news of my
own. I've landed that job in Canada, and I'm going there on Friday and
you're going with me. You're going to marry me the day after tomorrow
and start north on Friday."
She stared at him, many emotions succeeding each other on her face.
She had given her word--her most solemn word. She could hear Wood's
quiet voice asserting his confidence in her. "I know I can depend on
you; if you give me your word I know you'll keep it." She could not
break it. She said this, expecting that Horace would admire her for her
dependability--would at least agree with her that she was doing right.
But instead he looked at her with a smoldering expression, and when she
had finished he broke out. In fact he made her a scene of jealousy--the
first he had ever made--but none the worse for that. For a beginner
Horace showed a good deal of talent. He accused her openly of having
fallen in love with this fellow; she wasn't a girl to do anything as
silly as that except under a hypnotic influence. People did fall in
love at first sight. There were Romeo and Juliet; Shakespeare was a
fairly wise guy--these letters every day--why, if she wrote to him,
Horace, once a week he was lucky--but every day to this man. And jewels
and money--no, not much!
Jealousy, which is popularly supposed to be an erratic and fantastic
emotion, is often founded on the soundest intuition. Augusta found
herself hampered in defending herself by a certain inner doubt; and
her silence enabled Horace to work himself up to such a pitch that he
issued an ultimatum--a dangerous thing to do. She would either marry
him and go to Canada with him, or else everything was over between them.
It was a terrible situation for Augusta. On the one hand, her spoken
word, given to a person whose good opinion she greatly desired, and on
the other, her sincere love of Horace, increased by the decisive stand
he was taking; for it is unfortunately true that if you do not hate a
person for making a scene you love him more.
Perhaps Horace saw this. In any case, he would not retreat an inch.
This was the situation when the door of the library opened and in came
Augusta's friend and classmate, Pearl Leavitt, with whom she had an
engagement for luncheon--only in the general strain and excitement of