Will You Love Me in September

"I know you have never liked it," he went on, "but I couldn't give it up if I tried.

It's a spell that was laid on me at birth. When I was eight I would bet with stable boys on a couple of beetles trundling along the ground. It's innate, its irredeemable.

I'd do it for you if I could, but I couldn't. I wouldn't be myself.”

"I understand, Lance.”

"And you'll forgive me for it?" He took my chin in his hands and smiled at me.

"And you'll forgive me for being a bore and constantly nagging you about it.”

"I know it is only your concern for my welfare, and bless you, my darling, I'm grateful for that.”

He looked so handsome and rueful that I felt ashamed of my vague dissatisfaction and my suspicions, my vague regrets for Dickon.

Dinner was lively as usual, and immediately afterward they went to the card room to play. I went in with them, as was my custom, in order to see them settled before I slipped away to bed. The cards were on the tables and the guests were seating themselves before them. I watched Aimee. I had never been able to see her at a card table without wondering. There was now an avid, excited look in her eyes which I had noticed so often in Lance's.

There was a sudden cry of amazement. I swung round. Lance was holding a pack of cards in his hands and trying to separate them. Someone called out from one of the other tables, "They're stuck together.”

There was consternation. The cards were kept in a drawer in this room. The whole household knew of this.

Even as I stood there I understood.

"What the devil ..." Lance was saying, as near angry as he could possibly show himself to be. "What mischief is this?”

"Are they all the same?" I asked.

"It appears so.”

"Yes, they are," said one of the guests.

"These are the same," pointed out another.

Lance cried out to one of the servants in a voice I had never heard before, "Bring more cards.”

Fortunately there were plenty of cards in the house and these were immediately brought out and the game began.

As I came out of the room I saw a flash of white on the staircase. I went up to Sabrina's room. She was lying on her bed with the bedclothes about her face. I went over to her and pulled them back. Her eyes were fast shut in pretended sleep.

"It's no use, Sabrina," I said. "I know you're awake. I saw you on the stairs.”

She opened her eyes and looked at me. She was trying to suppress her laughter.

"It wasn't really very funny," I said.

"It was," she retorted defiantly.

"They were very angry.”

"Was he?”

"Very.”

She looked satisfied.

"Sabrina ... why?”

She was silent, smiling.

"You mustn't do things to hurt people," I said.

"I didn't. I did it because you don't want them to play cards. They couldn't if they were all stuck together. What'll he do?”

"He may speak to you.”

That made her laugh again. "I don't care for him.”

"You should.”

"Why?”

"Because you're living in his house and he's fond of you.”

"He's not fond of me. He's not fond of anyone. He's fond of cards.”

I sat by her bed thoughtfully. I wondered if I was ever going to change Sabrina.

Suddenly she was out of bed and clambering onto my lap.

"Clarissa, you're not cross with me. Say you're not. I did it for you. You don't like these cards ... so I did it for you.”

"Oh, Sabrina, I wish you hadn't.”

"He's angry," she said, her face against my hair. "P'raps he'll send me away. Come with me, Clarissa. Let's go away. Far away. Let's run away.”

"Of course he won't want you to go. He'll forgive you.”

"I don't want him to.”

"Now, Sabrina, please... .”

"Tell me a story.”

I hesitated. Then I began a story which had a strong moral in it.

I sat with her until she slept. Then I crept away. It was late when Lance came up.

I couldn't tell from his expression whether it had been successful play, for although he might be elated by a big win, he was never depressed by losses.

Imperturbability when things were not good was for him the essence of good manners, and that was a code he followed unswervingly.

He did not mention the incident of the cards, so I did. He burst out laughing.

"I suppose it was that minx Sabrina, up to her tricks," he said-and that was all.

I loved him dearly then. He was incapable of rancor, and the anger he had felt at the time of discovery had completely passed. He had dismissed the matter from his mind.

It was after she had had breakfast next morning that Sabrina came down for her riding lesson, looking adorable in a brown riding habit and a cocked hat to match. She looked triumphant and aggressive and clearly expected to be punished for her behavior of the previous night.

Lance was in the hall when she appeared. I saw her face change. She was a little apprehensive, I knew, by her air of bravado.

Lance said, "Hello, Sabrina. Just off on your charger, eh?”

"Yes, I am," she said quickly.

"Don't drive him too hard.”

That was all. She was bewildered. He had said nothing about the cards incident. I guessed he had forgotten it. Sabrina was too surprised to hide her disappointment.

I thought then that the best way to treat her outbreaks was to make them seem trivial.