Then some memory assailing him, he faltered, "And a little foolish
footstool."
"Sit down," Jerry said. There was something strangely appealing in
that gay young figure with the shining eyes. In spite of himself,
Jerry felt uncomfortable. "Sit down," he said.
So Barry sat down, and laughed at nothing, and talked about nothing,
and found it all very enchanting.
He packed his bag and left a note for Gordon and when he piled finally
with the others into Jerry's car, he was ready to shout with them that
it was a long lane which had no turning, and that work was a bore and
would always be.
And so the ride which Leila had planned for herself and her young
husband became a wild ride, in which these young knights of the road
pursued fantastic adventures, with memories blank, and with consciences
soothed.
For days they rode, stopping at various inns along the way, startling
the staid folk of the villages by their laughter late into the night;
making boon companions in an hour, and leaving them with tears, to
forget them at the first turn of the corner.
Written as old romance, such things seem of the golden age; looked upon
in the light of Barry's future and of Leila's, they were tragedy
unspeakable.
And now the car went up and up, to come down again to some stretch of
sand, with the mountains looming black against one horizon, the sea a
band of sapphire against another.
And so, fate drawing them nearer and nearer, they came at last to the
little town which Leila had described in her letter.
Going in, some one spoke the name, and Barry had a stab of memory. Who
had talked of narrow streets, across which people gossiped--and shook
hands?--who had spoken of having tea in that little shop?
He asked the question of his companions, "Who called this a story-book
town?"
They laughed at him. "You dreamed it."
Steadily his mind began to work. He fumbled in his pocket, and found
Leila's letter.
Searching through it, he discovered the name of the little place. "I
didn't dream it," he announced triumphantly; "my wife told me."
"Wake up," Jerry said, "and thank the gods that you are single."
But Barry stood swaying. "My little wife told me--Leila!"
With a sudden cry, he lurched forward. His arm struck the arm of the
driver beside him. The car gave a sudden turn. The streets were
narrow--so narrow that one might almost shake hands across them!