Neith Boyce

“ It is a white dress with a scarlet belt, and she has a white hat, a thin Tuscan straw, with red poppies on it. Her lips are scarlet like the poppies, her eyes are warm like the sunlight on the grass. She is intoxicating.
And he? A poet, in love, in springtime, with his love trembling on his lips, with his heart so full that it brims over at his eyes; Griffith the Simple, who has never been in love before, and never will be again. Some people are like that.
They eat their luncheon on the grass. She has taken off her hat and her hair catches the sunlight. He lies at her feet and looks at her. ”

“ Only this time they would not lunch at the restaurant, she said firmly. She would bring something with her, and they would lunch under the trees in the park. Agreed, then.
Griffith returned alone to the park, and found the bench where they had sat watching the fountains, and he sat there a long time, lost in dreams delicious and painful, tumultuous, full of deep sadness, full of poignant joy.
There are four golden Sundays in the month of May. One of them is a day of ardent sunshine, when the little, thin, green leaves unfold visibly, and shake out their creases against the blue sky. ”

“ On this last day of golden light, a phrase of hers brings on the inevitable. They have talked of love. By this time she knows that “l'amour” is “love.” She has every reason to know it, in prose and verse! To-day of all days, she chooses to descend to prose.
“L'amour,” she quotes cynically, mischievously, “c'est un malentendu entre une dame et un monsieur.”
Love is a misunderstanding between a lady and a gentleman!
Can a poet and a lover hear this from the lips of his beloved
He springs up, he drops on his knee beside her, indignant, wounded. ”

“ One is a blue-gray day, with a little shivering wind and tender mists. On one it rains delightfully out of low gray clouds, and the wind sobs, and one is especially gay—a delicious day, intimate, full of promise. And on the last, in the full glory of the sun, flowers bloom riotous, the earth breathes out fragrance, the grass is a rich, warm carpet, the sky a burning blue, drunken with light—and Laurence has a new dress. ”

“ His eyes were dreamy, especially after all those toasts to Laurence, and he smoked cigarette after cigarette in a rapt reverie, listening to the rhapsodies of Louis, watching the lights on the river. Youth and its quick blood, the heady charm of adventure, the eyes of a girl, the foreign city, freedom and glamour, beat in his pulses and dazzled him with visions. ”

“ Sometimes he thinks she must, she seems so happy, her eyes are so tender, she is so made for love. He has not asked her; they linger yet in that magical dawn where every word, every look implies the question that is still unspoken. ”

“ The two friends dined that evening on the balcony of the Pavillon Bleu, and they drank many toasts to Laurence, in white wine.
“A little milliner who quotes Verlaine—a little working girl with the manners of a duchess!” cried Louis, much excited. “Haven't I told you, you aristocrat, that there is nothing to equal for charm the women of the people? So frank, so simple, so gay—and then so clever, the little coquette! Confess, isn't your heart touched, O poet? Aren't you already composing a sonnet to her adorable eyebrow?”
Griffith smiled his confession. ”

“ Griffith was silent. He was too startled, too utterly charmed, to speak, even had he possessed speech at that moment. His eyes glowed, and they were fiery eyes, eyes that looked deep—dangerous eyes.
Laurence suddenly gave a little cry, and declared that it was late, that she must go, that she must take the next boat back to Paris.
Louis protested volubly. No, she must dine with them. Down there at the Pavillon Bleu there was very good food, there was music on the balcony overlooking the river, then they could all go back to Paris together. ”

“ The color rose into her face slowly.
“Truly? You went back?”
“Oh, Laurence,” he said, in a low voice.
“My name is Laura. I thought you never would forgive me.”
“Well, I'm not sure that I have forgiven you. It isn't so easy to forgive—what you did——”
Her eyelids fell, and once more she looked as she had done that last day in the forest—miserably hurt.
“You see,” he said, as calmly as he could, “if you play a game you ought to be willing to see it through. You oughtn't to play at all if you're going to lose your nerve and back out. Remember that next time. ”

“ The garden was large and old, with high stone walls overgrown with ivy, tall box hedges, winding paths, and many trees, damp nook and corners, snails on the rocks, flowers everywhere. Women with bright dresses were scattered about in it, and a few men. The sculptor greeted them in excellent English, and took them to his wife, who was pouring weak tea—a tall, slender, soberly dressed lady with the sweetest of manners. ”

“ A girl doesn't come into the country, dressed like that, for nobody. Whoever he is, he's late. I wouldn't be late, would you, Griff?”
“Would I!” said the other abstractedly. “She doesn't seem worried, though.”
In fact, the girl was watching the crowd very placidly. Her dark eyes moved quickly from one spot of color to another: she looked interested, but content. She drank her lemonade slowly and turned, apparently looking for the waiter, and for an instant her eyes caught the intent gaze of the two young strangers. ”

“ He went with Louis. He could not endure the idea of returning to solitude. The room in the restaurant overlooking the river was as gay as possible. There were many pretty girls, and more very lively young men. There was an excellent dinner. There was a great deal of champagne. Griffith was as riotous as the rest. He laughed, shouted, sang, pounded on the table, and made ironical love to the girl next him. ”

“ Will you speak to him?”
“Why?” demanded the girl, a glint of amusement in her eyes.
Griffith turned and, with a desperate gesture, summoned his accomplice. Louis obeyed with alacrity, laughing, and offered an apology, in French slightly more fluent, for the presumption of his friend, who, he explained, was a stranger to French customs, but ad not the remotest intention of offending mademoiselle——”
“But no,” she said, smiling merrily. “You are both Americans, are you not? The Americans are so droll!” ”

“ Sometimes her face is a child's, sometimes it is weary and wise. She is not simple. She is capricious, She is self-conscious, never off her guard, and yet she is spontaneous. Sometimes she is silent for a long time, and looks at him strangely, as if she disliked him. Sometimes she is mocking, her laugh has an edge, she says skeptical, contemptuous things. She bewilders him, baffles. him, hurts him sometimes, enchants him always. ”

“ The girl's interested glance for a moment swept across the two. She looked over, not at, them, but she looked gentle and friendly.
“She knows we're talking about her,” said Louis, “and she doesn't mind. I dare you, Griff. Here you're dying for adventure and a chance to practice your French—what better do you want? It won't kill you if she does throw you down!”
Griffith rose, took off his straw hat, and approached the solitary damsel. ”

“ If she heard she wouldn't understand, and it she understood she wouldn't mind,” said Louis gayly. “Do you take her for an English miss? A French girl who sits alone in a public square isn't going to be so prim as all that. I don't think she'd mind at all if we asked her very politely to let us drink our beer at her table.”
“But if she's waiting for some one——” objected Griffith. ”

“ The waiter brought her a plate of little cakes and another lemonade. She resumed her alert and pleased inspection of the lively scene before them.
“Garçon, encore deux!” cried the first young man, a trifle more loudly, perhaps, than was absolutely necessary. ”

“ She lives at Paris. She's a modiste—makes hats, you know. She says she gets her ideas of color and so on in this way—the country, the trees, flowers, sky. She's an artist, you see—told you so! Extraordinary, what sophistication you find in this people! It's getting a little crowded here—I'm going to suggest a stroll in the park.”
He turned to the girl and offered his suggestion, which was well received. The park, she said, was most beautiful at this hour of late afternoon.
Louis called the waiter and discharged her account as well as their own. ”