"It's all right," he said." It's only the gardener going to his cottage."Joan laughed, and her grip relaxed."I'm jumpy," she said."My nerves are all over the place.Do you wonder?""No, tell me the rest."
Joan's voice took on a little deeper note like that of a child who has come to the really creepy bit of his story."Marty," she went on, "I wish you could have heard the way in which Grandmother let herself go! She held me by the scruff of my neck and hit me right and left with the sort of sarca** that made me crinkle.According to her, I was on the downward path.I had done something quite hopeless and unforgivable.She didn't know how she could bring herself to report the affair--think of calling it an affair, Marty!--to my poor mother.Mother, who'd never say a word to me, whatever I did! She might have out-of-date views, she said, of how young girls should behave, but they were the right views, and so long as I was under her roof and in her care, she would see that I conformed to them.
She went on ****** a mountain out of our little molehill, till even Grandfather broke in with a word; and then she snapped at him, got into her second wind and went off again."I didn't listen half the time.I just stood and watched her as you'd watch one of those weird old women in one of Dickens' books come to life.What I remember of it all is that I am deceitful and fast, ungrateful, irresponsible, with no sense of decency, and when at last she pronounced sentence, what do you think it was? Confinement to the house for a week and if after that, I ever meet you again, to be packed off to a finishing-school in Massachusetts.She rapped her stick on the floor by way of a full stop, and waved her hand toward the door.I never said a word, not a single one.What was the use? I gave her a little bow and went.Just as I was going to rush upstairs and think over what Icould do, Grandfather came out and told me to go to his room to read something to him.And there, for the first time, he let me see what a fine old fellow he really is.He agreed with Grandmother that Iought not to have met you on the sly.It was dangerous, he said, though perfectly natural.He was afraid I found it very trying to live among a lot of old grouches with their best feet in the grave, but he begged me to put up with it because he would miss me so.He liked having me about, not only to read to him but to look at.Ireminded him of Grandmother when she was young, and life was worth living.
"I cried then.I couldn't help it--more for his sake than mine.He spoke with such a funny sort of sadness.'Be patient, my dear,' he said.'Treat us both with a little kindness.You're top dog.You have all your life before you.Make allowances for two old people entering second childhood.You'll be old some day, you know.' And he said this with such a twisted sort of smile that I felt awfully sorry for him, and he saw it and opened out and told me how appalling it was to become feeble when the heart is as young as ever.I had no idea he felt like that.""When I left him I tried hard to be as patient as he asked me to be and wait till Mother comes back and make the allowances he spoke about and give up seeing you and all that.But when I got up to my room with the echo of Grandmother's rasping voice in my ears, the thought of being shut up in the house for a week and treated like a lunatic was too much for me.What had I done that every other healthy girl doesn't do every day without a question? How COULD I go on living there, watched and suspected? How could I put up any longer with the tyranny of an old lady who made me feel artificial and foolish and humiliated--a kind of doll stuffed with saw dust?
"Marty, I couldn't do it.I simply couldn't.Something went snap, and I just flung a few things into a suit-case, dropped it out the window, climbed down the creeper and made a dash for *******.
Nothing on earth will ever take me back to that house again, nothing, nothing!"All this had been said with a mixture of humor and emotion that carried the boy before it.He saw and heard everything as she described it.His own relations with his father, which had been so free and friendly, made Joan's with those two old people seem fantastic and impossible.All his sympathy went out to her.To help her to get away appealed to him as being as humane as releasing a squirrel from a trap.No thought of the fact that she was a girl who had rushed impulsively into a most awkward position struck him.Into his healthy mind no *** question thrust itself.She was his friend, and as such, her claim upon him was overwhelming and unarguable.
