Free Deep Summer by Gwen Bristow Page B

surprise of it. Here there were no daisies, but there were great red blooms for which she had no name, and purple flowers bursting on the dead-looking sticks in the bayous; and soon this trouble she was so afraid of would be over and she would be light on her feet again. Even now it was splendid to feel a child moving in her body and know it was the first of a dynasty that was to rule this glorious country. She was proud to be having a child so soon.
    Philip came in unexpectedly one mid-morning.
    “I’m going into town to get the plows mended, Judith. What shall I bring you?”
    She smiled up at him.
    “Some plaster to chink up the cabin, please !”
    “I will, dear, really. I won’t forget this time. And that looking-glass?”
    “Do you still think I’m pretty?” she asked wistfully.
    “You have the loveliest eyes I ever saw. Dark gold like the sun on the river.”
    “Anyway,” said Judith, “I feel perfectly wonderful.”
    “So do I. I hate to take time out for sleeping.” He kissed her. “Goodbye, honey, and I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
    She stood in the doorway and waved at him as he climbed into the wagon and drove away. The wind ruffled her hair. Judith stretched out her arms and took a deep breath. In the west, over the river, some clouds were piling up very white against the deep blue of the sky. She did hope it wouldn’t rain before Philip came back with the plaster.
    By afternoon when Philip returned the clouds in the west were black, and the sun behind them made purple ridges in the pile. Judith went to the door, watching as Philip and Josh unloaded things from the wagon. Philip ran in eagerly.
    “Look what I’ve brought you, darling! A boat came up from New Orleans yesterday and they were having a sale of merchandise on the Purcell wharfs. Look at this.”
    He shook out a bolt of silk gauze, so fine and thin one could almost read printing through it. “From Paris, Judith. There’ll be mighty few ladies on the bluff who can have a gown like this. Angelique can make it for you—Angelique! Regardez!”
    “Oh Philip, how beautiful!” Judith and Angelique together gathered the gauze into their hands. It was vaguely rose-colored, with little clusters of blue flowers printed on it. She thanked him, though she was wondering what on earth she was going to do with a gauze dress in a log cabin.
    “And look at this. Rose-colored ribbons to trim it, silk both sides. And here’s a jar of pomade to set the curls in your hair, made in New Orleans with crushed jasmine flowers.”
    “And what’s in this package?”
    “That’s a couple of French romances.”
    “Oh, I see. I can’t read them.”
    “I’ll read them to you. See this—a girdle of plum-colored velvet.”
    “It’s perfectly beautiful, but—but really, I can’t get it on!”
    “Keep it till you can. These flasks are wine from Burgundy. And now, this is the finest present of all. Just what you wanted.”
    He brought in a big covered object, taller than a spinning-wheel.
    “What’s that, Philip?”
    “Uncover it and see.”
    Judith reached out eagerly and pulled off the cloth. She started and her jaw dropped and she moved a step backward. For an instant she was silent, then she began to cry.
    “Judith, honey, what is it?”
    Judith turned around and put her hand over her eyes to keep back the tears.
    “Oh my Lord, Philip, is that what I look like?”
    Philip stood quite still. He glanced at Angelique and she shook her head. He looked at Judith, crying with her back to the mirror.
    “Cover it up!” she said angrily.
    Philip slowly reached down and replaced the cloth over the glass. “Maybe you’re right,” he said after a moment. “I’m sorry I brought it now.”
    Judith was drying her eyes on the end of her kerchief. She ran impulsively to him and put her arms around him.
    “Oh Philip, I’m so sorry. You were sweet to bring it. I do like it, really I do. But I was so—shocked!”
    Philip smiled at her tenderly.