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Old Rose And Silver

<h1 id="id00906" style="margin-top: 6em">IX</h1> <h5 id="id00907">A KNIGHT-ERRANT</h5> Another mongrel had been added to the Crosby collection, so the canine herd now numbered twenty, all in the best of health and spirits. Some unpleasantness had been caused at the breakfast table by a gentle hint from Juliet to the effect that the dog supply seemed somewhat in excess of the demand. She had added insult to injury by threatening to chloroform the next dog her brother brought home. "Huh!" Romeo sneered, "they're as much yours as mine. You brought home the spotted one yourself." "That was only because the boys were teasing him. I didn't want him." "I've never brought home any without good reasons, and you know it. Besides, we've got room here for forty dogs, and they're all fenced in. They don't bother anybody." "Except by barking," complained Juliet. "They don't bark much unless somebody goes by, and there aren't any neighbours near enough to hear 'em, even then." "They do bark," Juliet put in fretfully. "They bark all the time at something. They bark when they're hungry and when they've eaten too much, and they bark at the sun and moon and stars, and when they're not barking, some or all of 'em are fighting. They drive me crazy." "Jule," said Romeo, sternly, "I don't see what's the matter with you lately. You act like a sissy girl. Go up into the attic and work on the trapeze for an hour or two, and you'll feel better. It wouldn't surprise me now if you got so sissy that you were afraid of mice and snakes." Juliet's anger rose to the point of tears. "I'm not afraid of mice," she sobbed, "and you know it. And I'll hold a little green snake by the tail just as long as you will, so there!" Man-like, Romeo hated tears. "Shut up, Jule," he said, not unkindly, "and we'll arbitrate." When her sobs ceased and she had washed her face in cold water, they calmly argued the question at issue. Romeo candidly admitted that twenty dogs might well be sufficient for people of simple tastes and Juliet did not deny that only a "sissy girl" would be annoyed by barking. Eventually, Romeo promised not to bring home any more dogs unless the present supply should be depleted by disappearance or accident, and Juliet promised not to chloroform any without his consent. With one accord, they decided to fit out the dogs with brown leather collars trimmed with yellow and to train the herd to follow the automobile. "They ought to be trained by the thirtieth of June," observed Romeo. "It would make more of a celebration for Uncle if we took 'em along." "Did you order the monogram put on the automobile?" "Sure. I told 'em to put 'The Yellow Peril' on each door and on the back, and the initials, 'C. T.' above it everywhere." The twins had adopted a common monogram, signifying "Crosby Twins." It adorned their stationery and their seal, but, as they seldom wrote letters, it had not been of much use. "We might have the initials put on the dogs' collars, too," Juliet suggested. "Sure," assented Romeo, cordially. "Then, if we lose any of 'em on the road, we can identify 'em when they're found, and get 'em back." Juliet saw that she had made a mistake and hoped Romeo would forget about it, but vainly, for he lounged over and made a memorandum on the slate that hung in the hall. "I wonder," continued Romeo, thoughtfully, "if the yard is big enough to train 'em in. We ought not to go out on the road until the thirtieth." "That's easy enough," Juliet answered, with a superior air. "How'd you go about it?" he demanded. "If they were my dogs and I wanted 'em to follow me in an automobile, I'd let 'em fast for a day or two and fill the back seat of the machine with raw meat. They'd follow quick enough and be good and lively about it, too. They wouldn't need to be trained." "Jule," said Romeo, solemnly, "will you please forgive me for calling you a 'sissy girl'?" "Sure!" Juliet had learned long before she was twenty, that "forgive me," from a man's lips, indicates the uttermost depths of abasement and devotion. "The fasting won't hurt 'em," Romeo continued, eager to change the subject. "They're all in good condition now." "Except the last one. You can see some of his ribs yet." "You can't by June." "No, I guess not. Say, Romie, oughtn't she to be coming to see us by now?" "Who?" "Isabel—what's-her-name. You know, up at Bernard's." Happy-hearted comrade though she was, Juliet had a secret longing for feminine association, at rare intervals. It would be pleasant she thought, to go skating sometimes with a girl or two instead of the usual crowd of boys. She hated herself fiercely for disloyalty, but the idea recurred persistently. "I'm not up on etiquette," Romeo replied, casually, "but I should think, if she wanted to come, she could do it by now. We made a polite call as far as I know." "We didn't leave any cards." "Cards? What kind of cards?" "Why, little cards with our names on 'em. People always leave 'em, in the books, when they make calls." Romeo went over to the slate again and made another memorandum. "I'll get 'em. What'll we have on 'em?" "We always go together," Juliet suggested, "so I think one will do. Just put on it 'The Crosby Twins,' with our address." "No need of the address. Everybody who knows us knows where we live." "Perhaps," Juliet went on, meditatively, "she doesn't like me." "If she doesn't," Romeo retorted, "I'll know the reason why. Do you remember what I did to the red-headed boy from the Ridge who said he wouldn't skate with the crowd if there was a girl in it?" Juliet nodded with satisfaction. "But you know, Romie, you can't hit a girl." "That's so," he admitted disconsolately. "That fresh kid had to wear beefsteak over one eye for almost a week." Juliet laughed at the idea of Isabel with beefsteak bandaged over one eye. "We won't worry about things we can't help," she said, philosophically. "We've done the proper thing and now it's up to her. If she doesn't come before we get the automobile, she doesn't get invited to go out in it." "You bet she doesn't." The talk quickly turned to the unfailing subject of automobiles. "The Yellow Peril" had been ordered and half paid for, but there was delay in delivery. The brown clothes trimmed with tan leather had also been ordered, as well as the brown felt hats, exactly alike, with yellow ribbon bands. They had the goggles and enjoyed glaring fiercely at each other through them, especially at meals. Juliet had thought of making a veil of yellow chiffon, but Romeo had objected violently. He thought they should look as much alike as possible, so she had yielded. They had decided to make a wide track through the yard and around the barn to practise on. Suitable space for the, automobile had already been set aside in the barn and safely fenced in beyond the reach of canine interference. Romeo had not seen the necessity of the fence until Juliet had pointed out that some of the dogs would want to sleep on the leather cushions. "It would make it smell so doggy," she had said, "that we'd have to call it 'The Yellow Dog' instead of 'The Yellow Peril.'" Romeo, with true masculine detachment, could talk automobile with unfailing enthusiasm, and yet think continually about something else. The thought that Isabel might not like Juliet had not occurred to him. It seemed impossible that anybody should not like Juliet, for, in the fond eyes of her twin, she was the most sane and sensible girl in the world. "Anyhow," thought Romeo as he went to sleep that night, "if Jule wants her to come here, she's got to do it, that's all." He meditated upon the problem for several days without reaching any satisfactory conclusion. At last he determined to go up to see Isabel himself, and, as he phrased it in his own mind, "see how the land lays." It would be difficult to elude Juliet, but, in Romeo's experience, the things one determined to do could nearly always be done. It was an easy matter to make an errand to the City, "to poke 'em up a bit about the machine," and to get the visiting cards, which had promptly been ordered by mail. Juliet rather insisted upon going along, but was easily dissuaded by the fact that "there might be a row, and anyway, it's a man's job." He came home about dusk with several packages, one of which he carefully concealed under a pile of leaves in the fence corner just inside the yard. He could easily reach through the palings and lift it over the fence as he passed. Juliet admired the cards, was delighted with a box of chocolates and two new novels, and condescended to approve of Romeo's new red tie. He had gloves in his pocket, but feared to show them to her, gloves being her pet object of scorn. After they had cleared off the table, Romeo strolled over to the window. Five of the dogs were gathered about some small object and the yard was littered with bits of white. Under his breath Romeo said something that sounded like profanity, and Juliet pricked up her ears. "What's the matter?" she demanded. "I brought home some flowers," explained Romeo, carefully, for it was written in the covenant that the twins should never, under any circumstances, lie to each other, "and I must have dropped 'em. The dogs have torn 'em to pieces, box and all." Juliet clapped her hands gleefully. "I'm glad of it!" "Why?" he asked quickly, with an uneasy sense that she was a mind- reader. "Because we've got so many dogs." Romeo chose to take offence at the innocent remark and relapsed into gloomy silence. Disdaining to speak, Juliet curled up on the decrepit sofa with a book and the chocolates, and presently went to sleep. "Fortune favours the brave," he quoted to himself, as he tiptoed into the kitchen, cautiously closing the door. A subtle perfume filled the room and he sniffed appreciatively. An open bottle of vanilla extract stood on the kitchen table, where a pan of fudges was cooling, marked off into neat squares. He wrapped the pan in a newspaper, anointed his handkerchief liberally with the fragrant extract, and softly stole out into the night. The dogs followed him to the back fence, but did not bark. Only a few soft whines followed him as he sped down the road, thrilled with a sense of adventure and romance. If Juliet should happen to wake, she would think he had gone away because he was angry, and never need know that like some misunderstood knight of old, he was merely upon an errand of chivalry for her. The fudges would do as well as the calla lilies, probably, though he felt instinctively that they were not quite as elegant. It was a long way to Madame Bernard's, and Juliet's knight-errant was weary, after an exhausting day in town. He paused outside the gate long enough to clean the dust from his shoes with the most soiled of his two handkerchiefs, then went boldly up the steps and rang the bell. He was embarrassed to find Colonel Kent and Allison there, though the younger man's tact speedily set him at ease again, and enabled him to offer Isabel the pan of fudges with unwonted grace of manner. Then he went over to Madame Bernard. "Juliet couldn't come to-night," he said, "but here's our card." Madame could not repress a smile as she read "The Crosby Twins" engraved in the fashionable script of the moment. "How very original," she said, kindly. "Nobody but you and Juliet would have thought of it." "Jule thought of it," he replied, with evident pride. "She's more up on etiquette than I am." "If it's proper for husband and wife to have their names engraved on the same card," Madame went on, "it must be all right for twins." "It's more proper," Romeo returned, "because nobody is so much related as twins are. Husband and wife are only relatives by marriage." Colonel Kent laughed appreciatively. "Good! May I have some of Miss Isabel's candy?" Isabel, convulsed with secret mirth, informally passed the pan, and only Romeo refused. "I can have 'em any time," he said, generously. "Doesn't Jule make dandy fudges, though?" Everybody agreed that she did. Madame Francesca expressed something more than conventional regret that Juliet had not been able to come. "She was asleep," Romeo explained, with studied indifference. "After she wakes," suggested Colonel Kent, "we'd like very much to have you both come to our house to dinner." "Thank you," replied Romeo, somewhat stiffly. "We'd be very much pleased." Then to himself, he added: "That was a lie, but it wasn't to Jule, so it doesn't matter." Rose made friendly inquiries about the dogs and told Allison that Romeo was said to have the finest collection of fishing tackle in the State. Much gratified, Romeo invited Allison to go fishing with him as soon as the season opened, and, as an afterthought, politely included the Colonel. "I've never been fishing," remarked Isabel, as she could think of nothing else to say. "Girls are an awful bother in a boat," Romeo returned, with youthful candour. "That is, except Juliet." Isabel flushed faintly and bit her lips. To relieve an awkward pause, Madame Francesca asked Allison to play something. "Yes," said Romeo, "go on and play." He meant to be particularly courteous, but his tone merely indicated that he would not be seriously annoyed by music. As the first strains came from the piano and violin, Romeo established himself upon the couch beside Isabel, and, in a low, guarded tone, began to talk automobile. Isabel was so much interested that she wholly forgot Aunt Francesca's old-fashioned ideas about interrupting a player, and the conversation became animated. Both Rose and Allison had too much good sense to be annoyed, but occasionally, until the last chord, they exchanged glances of amusement. When they stopped, Isabel was saying: "Your suits must be just lovely." Romeo turned with a lordly wave of the hand. "You don't need to stop. Go on!" "How can you expect us to play properly?" inquired Rose, tactfully, "when you're talking about automobiles? We'd much rather listen to you." "Begin over again, won't you?" asked Allison. He added, with a trace of sarcasm wholly lost upon Romeo: "We've missed a good deal of it." Thus encouraged, Romeo began again, thoughtfully allowing Isabel the credit of the original suggestion. He dwelt at length upon the fine points involved in the construction of "The Yellow Peril," described the brown leather and the specially designed costumes, and was almost carried away by enthusiasm when he pictured the triumphant progress of the yellow car, followed by twenty dogs in appropriate collars. "Can you," he inquired of Allison, "think of anything more like a celebration that we could do for Uncle?" "No," replied Allison, choking back a laugh, "unless you went out at night, too, and had fireworks." Romeo's expressive face indicated displeasure. "Uncle was such a good man," he said, in a tone of quiet rebuke, "that I don't believe it would be appropriate." Allison coughed and Colonel Kent hastily went to the window. Madame hid her face for an instant behind her fan and Isabel laughed openly. "I'm sure he was," said Rose, quickly. "Can you remember him at all?" "No," Romeo responded, "we've never seen him, but he was a brick all the same." "Are you going to run the car yourself?" queried Rose. "Of course. Some day I'll take you out," he suggested, kindly, then turned to Isabel and played his highest trump. "Juliet said something about asking you to go with us the second time we went out. Of course it's her place to do it." "I'd love to go," murmured Isabel. "She'll ask you when you come out to return her call," Romeo continued. "I've been meaning to come, but I've been waiting for good roads." "When you come," he answered, "don't say anything about my having been here. It might make her feel bad to think I went out calling and left her asleep." "All right—I won't." As soon as it was possible, without obvious effort, Romeo made his escape, after shaking hands with everyone and promising to come again very soon. "I'll bring Jule next time. Good-night!" Once outside, he ran toward home like a hunted wild animal, hoping with all his heart that Juliet was still asleep. It was probable, for more than once she had slept on the sofa all night. But the kindly fate that had hitherto guided him suddenly failed him now. When he reached home, panting and breathless, having discovered that it was almost midnight, a drooping little figure in a torn kimona opened the door and fell, weeping into his arms. "Oh, Romie! Romie!" cried Juliet, hysterically. "Where have you been?" "There," he said, patting her shoulder awkwardly. "Don't take on so, Jule. You were asleep, so I went out for a walk. I met Colonel Kent and Allison and I've been with them all the evening. I'm sorry I stayed so long." "I haven't lied," he continued, to himself, exultantly. "Every word is the literal truth." "Oh, Romie," sobbed Juliet, with a fresh burst of tears, "I don't care where you've been as long as I've got you back! We're twins and we've got to stand by each other!" Romeo gently extricated himself from her clinging arms, then stooped to kiss her wet cheek. "You bet!" he whispered. <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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