"Here, you can't keep that up all night!" Julia suddenly protested,
grabbing the brush. "I'll do you!" But Jim stopped the performance by
suddenly imprisoning girl and whiskbroom in his arms.
"Do you know I think we are going to have great fun!" said he. "You're
such a good little sport, Ju! No nerves and no nonsense about you! It's
such fun to do things with a person who isn't eternally fussing about
heat and cold, and whether she ought to wear her gloves into the
dining-car, and whether any one will guess that she's just married!"
"Oh, I have my nervous moments," Julia confessed, her eyes looking
honestly up into his. "It seems awfully strange and queer, rushing
farther and farther away from home, alone with you!" Her voice sank a
little; she put up her arms and locked them about his neck. "I have to
keep reminding myself that you are just you, Jim," she said bravely,
"who gave me my Browning, and took me to tea at the Pheasant--and then
it all seems right again! And then--such lots of nice people _have_ got
married, and gone away on honeymoons," she ended, argumentatively.
The laughter had gone from Jim's eyes; a look almost shy, almost
ashamed, had taken its place.
Pages:
329
330
331
332
333
334
335
336
337
338
339
340
341
342
343
344
345
346
347
348
349
350
351
352
353