Anonumous - The prodigal virgin

In response to such comments upon her beloved brother, Edith Hamilton raised charming eyebrows with a wee smile which concealed silent dissent to some of the conclusions drawn concerning the tanned and sinewy youth who was her brother.

But not even the reputation of serene quiet and reserve with which Herbert was stamped by those given to first impressions could invalidate the fact that he proved speedily to be no wet blanket on the very informal minglings and frolics to which the colony was prone. If by no means boisterous in his ways, if inclined to be rather the smiling observer than the participant in fun which often arose to extreme pitches, he was quickly acquitted of disapproval of frivolity or of any desire to stem the tide of pleasure by frowns or withdrawal.

Strangely, or naturally-whichever it may seem-he and the beautiful Californian, Marion Stone, appeared drawn together. If the shyness of the boy was just a pleasant veneer over a nature which could, as some few in this world could have testified, become the reverse of retiring on occasions, the delicate sensibilities of the girl were, as we know, inbred. But by this time the maneuvers of Mildred and Stanley had accomplished the purpose of “launching” Marion. Even if the lovely Miss Stone could not bring herself to do in Michigan Dunes as the Michigan Dunians did in all respects, still she was one of them-and a very popular one.

It is probable that the very fact that she still manifested, despite the efforts of Mildred and Stanley to “toughen” her to the life of this lively set, a certain bashful reserve and modesty, played its part in making even the wildest of the colony member fond of her. She still represented, in their gatherings, the old-fashioned, demure point of view to an extent, and her blushes and widened eyes when she saw one or more of the young women calmly strip down their tenuous bathing suits to the navel, or lower in mixed company, for the purpose of allowing the sun’s rays to drench their pretty bodies, brought about a certain tenderly amused affection for her among even the most cynical of these young persons of wealth and standing. There was a certain piquancy in finding in their midst a youthful beauty who was capable of being shocked.

From the very outset of Herbert Allison’s entrance into the colony, it became evident to the most astute of observers that the reserved and quiet globe-trotter felt drawn to this maiden. Compared with most of her new friends, she was somewhat green and gauche in the frivolous frolics and often cynical chatter which these more sophisticated young people freely allowed themselves. Her little alarms, her quick flushes, her sudden silences while she strove for composure, her palpable efforts to be nothing of the wet blanket or the living reproof amid words and acts which often caused her great consternation, these things, coupled with her loveliness and grace, frequently drew the dark, pleasant gaze of the only person who was even quieter than she in all that little community.

He had a way of smiling at Marion without even looking at her, a faculty which his keen-eyed sister had no difficulty in noting, knowing him as she did. For, intercepting one of those rare and hardly noticeable smiles, headed apparently towards the horizon, on her brother’s otherwise imperturbable features, Edith found speedily that, even though Marion was looking anywhere save at Herbert, a faint flush and a response to that smile would involuntarily appear upon the face of the girl, as if, without looking at each other, they were conscious of a certain mystic and unacknowledged sympathy interchanged.

With a visible effort, Marion would compose her features then into as near a blank as she could contrive-still without a glance at the boy. Presently she would look about her a trifle sheepishly, as if fearing that the sudden queer thought of this bronzed Herbert which had obsessed her, and her involuntary response to it, might have attracted attention. And, after a bit, there would be casual but wondering glances of inspection between the two young strangers, as if to note whether what the one had felt had had any repercussion with the other.

Had not Edith Hamilton known otherwise, she would have more than suspected that these two, who had barely met, were in reality far from strangers, that already secret meetings and a secret understanding existed between them. No, if there had been a coup de foudre between this pair it had been launched from the clear sky.

Edith was pleased, touched, just a trifle sorrowful also. She had long ago accustomed herself to consider her only brother as immune to romance, even though by no means immune to the sudden flaring of animality in his usually controlled nature. She knew him like a book, and loved him very deeply. She was already immensely fond of Marion, too, but it was hard to visualize Herbert with a wife. And such a thought as matrimony in this instance would never have occurred to her had it not been for the strange, almost unconscious, complicity which seemed to exist between them.

A man who has been accustomed for months on end to sleep through those wonderful African nights in the wilds may find it hard to cast off the habit of awakening, even from profound slumber, at the slightest sound, which might, in those velvet nights, have been the sniff or rustle or light footfall betokening danger abroad in the veldt. The return to civilization extinguishes such alertness only through the lapse of time. In Herbert Allison, now back with those of his blood and his kind for about a week, the alarm clock of sensitive and trained nerves had not yet run wholly down, even in the course of steamship and train travel.

In bed at eleven this particular night, he had sunk into restful sleep with his customary readiness, and had been roused, too, with his customary readiness, an hour or two later. Faculties on the qui vive at once, he was quickly aware that his faithful senses had played him false by arousing him quite unnecessarily. Here he was far from any danger, in a luxurious bed in the summer home of his young and pretty married sister, his own bungalow being not quite ready for his occupancy.

Yet there was something in the air even amid this peaceful silence, something to which his highly keyed nerves responded sensitively, something which stirred and moved and vaguely distressed him.

Ah, a prolonged, vibrating, soft moan arose plaintively. Such a sound had aroused him, doubtless. Sighs and rustlings followed. He suddenly understood.

Why, damn it all, his sister was in there, just beyond that door. His sister, Edith, and, by God, she was playing the part of a woman to man! This kid of-well, she must be twenty-one. But it was heart-rending, at that, to think of her lying in there, perhaps as bare as a young gazelle, and having that done to her, even by good old Harry Hamilton, his friend at college, who, after all, had a hell of a nerve to come and make his dark-eyed sister of the head of the Allisons a naked animal mewling and mewing with lust in the dark!

So that was it, that was what had aroused him-and was now arousing his sex into sharp erection! Well, he had no particular shame over that. It wasn’t the first time that Edith, bless her heart, had been the cause of his flesh tugging at its leashes.

She had been a sensual and very pretty child. Restricted in her intercourse with boys while in her teens, she had had, he believed, a sort of “crush” upon her only brother, an innocently perverse inclination, her young and ardent flesh speaking. And only the admired, reserved older brother was fond of her, but rating her as just an infant at thirteen, fourteen, fifteen.

There had been that affair of the stepladder in Edith’s own chamber, the picture which must be hung just as she wished it and which she couldn’t entrust to either maid or manservant for the purpose.