Angel Island - Page 105/136

"You didn't say - ."

"I didn't peep. I promised, you know. I let them assume that they were

mine. They went wild over them, threw all kinds of fits. You see, Pete

has a really fine artistic sense that's going to waste in all these

minor problems of construction and drainage. I flatter myself that I,

too, have some taste. Addington and Honey are both good workmen - that

is, they work steadily under instruction. Merrill's only an inspired

plumber, of course. Pete and I have been feeling for a long time that we

wanted to do something more creative, more esthetic. This is just the

thing we needed. I'm glad you thought it out; for I was beginning to

grow stale. I sometimes wonder what will happen when the New Camp is

entirely built and there's nothing else to do."

Billy's voice had, in spite of his temperamental optimism, a dull note

of unpleasant anticipation.

"There'll be plenty to do after that." Julia smiled reassuringly. "I'm

working on a plan to lay out the entire island. That will take years and

years and years. Even then you'll need help."

"That, my beloved," Billy said, "until the children grow up, is just

what we can't get - help."

Julia was silent.

"Julia," he went on, after an interval, in which neither spoke, "won't

you marry me? I'm lonely."

The poignant look - it was almost excruciating now - came into Julia's

eyes.

"Not now, Billy," she answered.

"And yet you say you love me!"

The sadness went. Julia's face became limpid as water, bright as light,

warm as flame. "I love you," she said. "I love you! I love you!" She

went on reiterating these three words. And with every iteration, the

thrill in her voice seemed to deepen. "And, Billy - ."

"Yes."

"I'm not quite sure when - but I know I'm going to marry you some time."

"I'll wait, then," Billy promised. "As long as I know you love me, I can

wait until - the imagination of man has not conceived the limit yet."

"Well, how have you been to-day?" Ralph asked. But before Peachy could

speak, he answered himself in a falsetto voice that parodied her round,

clear accents, I want to fly! I want to fly! I want to fly!" His tone

was not ill-tempered, however; and his look was humorously a

affectionate, as one who has asked the same question many times and

received the same answer.