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diff --git a/old/20050802.16414-h.zip b/old/20050802.16414-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..7f0ece2 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/20050802.16414-h.zip diff --git a/old/20050802.16414.txt b/old/20050802.16414.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..81ec180 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/20050802.16414.txt @@ -0,0 +1,17674 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Quincy Adams Sawyer and Mason's Corner Folks +by Charles Felton Pidgin + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.net + + +Title: Quincy Adams Sawyer and Mason's Corner Folks + A Picture of New England Home Life + +Author: Charles Felton Pidgin + +Release Date: August 2, 2005 [EBook #16414] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK QUINCY ADAMS SAWYER AND *** + + + + +Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Sigal Alon and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +QUINCY +ADAMS +SAWYER + +AND + +MASON'S CORNER FOLKS + + + +A PICTURE OF NEW +ENGLAND HOME LIFE + +BY + +CHAS. FELTON PIDGIN + + +Boston +C.M. CLARK +PUBLISHING COMPANY +1905 + + + + +REVISED +EDITION + + + +Respectfully dedicated to +the Memory of the late +HON JAMES +RUSSELL LOWELL +the perusal of whose +famous poem +"THE COURTIN" +supplied the inspiration +that led to the writing +of this book. + + + + +AUTHOR'S PREFACE. + + +QUINCY ADAMS SAWYER'S only title was plain "Mr." His ancestors were +tradesmen, merchants, lawyers, politicians, and Presidents. He, too, was +proud of his honored ancestry, and I have endeavored in this book to +have him live up to an ideal personification of gentlemanly qualities +for which the New England standard should be fully as high as that of +Old England; in fact, I see no reason why the heroes of American novels, +barring the single matter of hereditary titles, should not compare +favorably as regards gentlemanly attributes with their English cousins +across the seas. C.F.P. + +GRAY CHAMBERS, +BOSTON, October, 1902. + + + + + + CHAPTERS + + I. The Rehearsal + + II. Mason's Corner Folks + + III. The Concert in the Town Hall + + IV. Ancestry _versus_ Patriotism + + V. Mr. Sawyer Meets Uncle Ike + + VI. Some New Ideas + + VII. "That City Feller" + + VIII. City Skill _versus_ Country Muscle + + IX. Mr. Sawyer Calls on Miss Putnam + + X. Village Gossip + + XI. Some Sad Tidings + + XII. Looking for a Boarding Place + + XIII. A Visit to the Victim + + XIV. A Quiet Evening + + XV. A Long Lost Relative + + XVI. A Promise Kept + + XVII. An Informal Introduction + + XVIII. The Courtin' + + XIX. Jim Sawyer's Funeral + + XX. A Wet Day + + XXI. Some More New Ideas + + XXII. After the Great Snowstorm + + XXIII. A Visit to Mrs. Putnam + + XXIV. The New Doctor + + XXV. Some Plain Facts and Inferences + + XXVI. The Surprise Party + + XXVII. Town Politics + + XXVIII. The Town Meeting + + XXIX. Mrs. Hawkins's Boarding House + + XXX. A Settlement + + XXXI. An Inheritance + + XXXII. Aunt Ella + + XXXIII. The Weddin's + + XXXIV. Blennerhassett + + XXXV. "The Bird of Love" + + XXXVI. Then They Were Married + + XXXVII. Linda's Birthright + +XXXVIII. Fernborough + + + + +LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. + +_Frontispiece_.--"The village gossips wondered + who he was, what + he was, what he came for, + and how long he intended + to stay." + +It was a marvellous rig that he wore when he reappeared + +The barge led the procession to Mason's Corner + +And then he landed a blow on Wood's nose + +"The Deacon and his wife led off" + + +CHARACTERS AND SCENES FROM THE STAGE PRESENTATION OF QUINCY ADAMS +SAWYER. + +Mandy Skinner + +Samanthy Green + +Mrs. Putnam's anger, upon discovery of Lindy's parentage (Act III.) + +Quincy reading Alice's letter to her (Act III.) + +An old-fashioned husking bee (Act III.) + +Alice recovers her sight (Act IV.) + + + + +QUINCY ADAMS SAWYER. + + + + +CHAPTER I. + +THE REHEARSAL. + + +It was a little after seven o'clock on the evening of December 31, +186--. Inside, the little red schoolhouse was ablaze with light. Sounds +of voices and laughter came from within and forms could be seen flitting +back and forth through the uncurtained windows. Outside, a heavy fall of +snow lay upon hill and vale, trees and house-tops, while the rays of a +full-orbed moon shone down upon the glistening, white expanse. + +At a point upon the main road a short distance beyond the square, where +the grocery store was situated, stood a young man. This young man was +Ezekiel Pettengill, one of the well-to-do young farmers of the village. +His coat collar was turned up and his cap pulled down over his ears, for +the air was piercing cold and a biting wind was blowing. Now and then he +would walk briskly back and forth for a few minutes, clapping his hands, +which were encased in gray woollen mittens, in order to restore some +warmth to those almost frozen members. As he walked back and forth, he +said several times, half aloud to himself, "I don't b'lieve she's comin' +anyway. I s'pose she's goin' to stay ter hum and spend the evenin' with +him." Finally he resumed his old position near the corner and assumed +his previous expectant attitude. + +As he looked down the road, a man came out of Mrs. Hawkins's boarding +house, crossed the road and walked swiftly towards him. + +As the new-comer neared him, he called out, "Hello, Pettengill! is that +you? Confounded cold, ain't it? Who wuz yer waitin' for? Been up to the +schoolhouse yet?" + +To these inquiries 'Zekiel responded: "No!" and added, "I saw yer comin' +out of the house and thought I'd walk up with yer." + +"Wall! they can't do nuthin' till I git thar," said Mr. Obadiah Strout, +the singing-master, "so we shall both be on time. By the way," he +continued, "I was up to Boston to-day to git some things I wanted for +the concert to-morrer night, and the minister asked me to buy some new +music books for the church choir, and I'm goin' up there fust to take +'em;" and 'Zekiel's attention was attracted to a package that Mr. Strout +held under his arm. "Say, Pettengill!" continued Mr. Strout, "when yet +git up ter the schoolhouse, tell them I'll be along in a few minutes;" +and he started off, apparently forgetful of 'Zekiel's declaration that +he had intended to walk up with him. + +It is evident that 'Zekiel's statement was untruthful, for his words +have betrayed the fact that it was not the Professor of whom he had been +thinking. + +'Zekiel did not move from his position until he had seen Strout turn +into the yard that led to the front door of the minister's house. Then +he said to himself again, "I don't believe she's comin', arter all." + +As he spoke the words a deep, heavy sigh came from his great, honest +heart, heard only by the leaflless trees through which the winter wind +moaned as if in sympathy. + +What was going on in the little red schoolhouse? The occasion was the +last rehearsal of the Eastborough Singing Society, which had been +studying vocal music assiduously for the last three months under the +direction of Professor Obadiah Strout, and was to give its annual +conceit the following evening at the Town Hall at Eastborough. + +A modest sum had been raised by subscription. A big barge had been hired +in Cottonton, and after the rehearsal there was to be a sleigh ride to +Eastborough Centre and return. It was evident from the clamor and +confusion that the minds of those present were more intent upon the ride +than the rehearsal, and when one girl remarked that the Professor was +late, another quickly replied that, "if he didn't come at all 'twould be +early enough." + +There were about two score of young persons present, very nearly equally +divided between the two sexes. Benjamin Bates was there and Robert Wood, +Cobb's twins, Emmanuel Howe, and Samuel Hill. Among the girls were Lindy +Putnam, the best dressed and richest girl in town, Mandy Skinner, Tilly +James, who had more beaus than any other girl in the village; the Green +sisters Samanthy and Betsy, and Miss Seraphina Cotton, the village +schoolteacher. + +Evidently all the members of the society had not arrived, for constant +inquiries were being made about Huldy Mason and 'Zekiel Pettengill. When +Betsy Green asked Mandy Skinner if Hiram Maxwell wa'n't comin', the +latter replied that he'd probably come up when Miss Huldy and the new +boarder did. + +News had reached the assemblage that Arthur Scates, the best tenor +singer in the society, was sick. Lindy Putnam was to sing a duet with +him at the concert, and so she asked if anybody had been to see him. + +"I was up there this arternoon," said Ben Bates, "and he seemed powerful +bad in the throat. Grandmother Scates tied an old stocking 'round his +throat and gin him a bowl of catnip tea and he kinder thought he'd be +all right to-morrer. I told him you'd have a conniption fit if he didn't +show up, but Grandmother Scates shook her head kind o' doubtful and +said, 'The Lord's will be done. What can't be cured must be endured;' +and I guess that's about the way it will be." + +The outer door opened and 'Zekiel Pettengill entered. The creaking of +the opening door attracted the attention of all. When the girls saw who +it was, they ran and gathered about him, a dozen voices crying out, +"Where is Huldy? We all thought she'd come with you." + +'Zekiel shook his head. + +"You don't know?" asked Tilly James, incredulously. 'Zekiel shook his +head again. "Of course you do," said Tilly contemptuously. + +She turned away, followed by a number of the girls. "He knows well +enough," she observed in an undertone, "but he won't tell. He's gone on +Huldy, and when a feller's gone on a girl he's pretty sure to keep the +run of her." + +In the meantime Lindy Putnam had been using her most persuasive powers +of coaxing on 'Zekiel and with same success, for 'Zekiel told quite a +long story, but with very little information in it. He told the crowd of +girls gathered about him that he'd be twenty-eight on the third of +January, and that ever since he was a little boy, which was, of course, +before any of those present were born, he'd always followed the rule of +not saying anything unless he knew what he was talking about. + +"Now," said 'Zekiel, feeling that it was better to talk on than to stand +sheep-facedly before this crowd of eager, expectant faces, "I might tell +yer that Huldy was ter hum and wasn't comin' up to-night, but yer see, +p'r'aps she's on the road now and may pop in here any minute! Course you +all know Deacon Mason's got a boarder, a young feller from the city. +P'r'aps he'll come up with Huldy. But I heerd tell his health wa'n't +very good and mebbe he went to bed right after supper." + +"What's he down here for anyway?" asked Tilly James. + +"Now you've got me," replied 'Zekiel. "I s'pose he had some purpose in +view, but you see I ain't positive even of that. As I said before, I +heerd he's come down here for his health. It's too late for rakin' hay, +and as hard work's the best country doctor, p'r'aps he'll go to choppin' +wood; but there's one point I feel kinder positive on." + +"What is it? What is it?" cried the girls, as they looked into his face +inquiringly. + +"Wall, I think," drawled 'Zekiel, "that when he gits what he's come for, +he'll be mighty apt to pull up stakes and go back to Boston." + +Again the outer door creaked upon its hinges, and again every face was +turned to see who the new-comer might be. + +"Here she is," cried a dozen voices; and the owners thereof rushed +forward to greet and embrace Miss Huldy Mason, the Deacon's daughter and +the most popular girl in the village. + +'Zekiel turned and saw that she was alone. Evidently the city fellow had +not come with her. + +Huldy was somewhat astonished at the warmth of her greeting, and was at +a loss to understand the reason for it, until Lindy Putnam said: + +"Didn't he come with you?" + +"Who?" asked Huldy, with wide-open eyes. + +"Oh, you can't fool us," cried Tilly James. "'Zeke Pettengill told us +all about that city feller that's boarding down to your house. We were +just talking it over together, and he surmised that it might be the same +one that you met down to your aunt's house, when you went to Boston last +summer." + +"As Mr. Pettengill seems to know so much about my gentlemen friends, if +you want any more information, no doubt he can supply it," said Huldy +coldly. + +"'Zeke kinder thought," said Bob Wood, "that he might be tired, and +probably went to bed right after supper." + +"Well, he didn't," said Huldy, now thoroughly excited, "he came with me, +and he's outside now talking with Hiram about the barge." + +"Why don't he come in?" asked Bob Wood. "P'r'aps he's bashful." + +"If he didn't have no more common sense than you've got," retorted +Huldy, "he'd have to go to bed as soon as he had eaten his supper." + +The laugh that followed this remark so incensed Wood that he answered +coarsely, "I never saw one of those city chaps who knew B from a bull's +foot." + +"Perhaps he'll teach you the difference some day," remarked Huldy, +sarcastically. + +"Well, I guess not," said Wood with a sneer; "'less he can put two b's +in able." + +Further altercation was stopped by the sudden entrance of Mr. Strout, +who quickly ascended the platform and called the society to order. It +must be acknowledged that the Professor had a good knowledge of music +and thoroughly understood the very difficult art of directing a mixed +chorus of uncultivated voices. With him enthusiasm was more important +than a strict adherence to quavers and semiquavers, and what was lost in +fine touches was more than made up in volume of tone. + +Again, the Professor paid strict attention to business at rehearsals, +and the progress of the society in musical knowledge had been very +marked. So it is not to be wondered at that the various numbers allotted +to the chorus on the next evening's programme were gone through quickly +and to the evident satisfaction of the leader. + +The last number to be taken up was an original composition, written and +composed by the singing-master himself, and during its rehearsal his +enthusiasm reached its highest pitch. At the conclusion of the chorus, +which had been rendered with remarkable spirit, the Professor darted +from one-end of the platform to the other, crying out, "Bravo! Fust +rate! Do it again! That'll fetch 'em!" + +After several repetitions of the chorus, each one given with increasing +spirit and volume, the Professor threw down his baton and said: "That'll +do. You're excused until to-morrow night, seven o'clock sharp at +Eastborough Town Hall. I guess the barge has just drove up and we'd +better be gittin' ready for our sleigh ride." + +Miss Tilly James, who had acted as accompanist on the tin-panny old +piano, was putting up her music. The Professor, with his face wreathed +in smiles, walked up to her and said, "I tell you what, Miss James, that +last composition of mine is bang up. One of these days, when the 'Star +Spangled Banner,' 'Hail Columbia,' and 'Marching through Georgia' are +laid upon the top shelf and all covered with dust, one hundred million +American freemen will be singing Strout's great national anthem, 'Hark, +and hear the Eagle Scream.' What do you think of that prophecy?" + +"I think," said Miss James, turning her pretty face towards him, her +black eyes snapping with fun, "that if conceit was consumption, there'd +be another little green grave in the cemetery with O. Strout on the +headstone." + +The Professor never could take a joke. In his eye, jokes were always +insults to be resented accordingly. Turning upon the young lady +savagely, he retorted: + +"If sass was butter, your folks wouldn't have to keep any cows." + +Then he walked quickly across the room to where 'Zekiel Pettengill +stood aloof from the rest, wrapped in some apparently not very pleasant +thoughts. + +At this juncture Hiram Maxwell dashed into the schoolroom, and judging +from appearances his thoughts were of the pleasantest possible +description. + +"Say, fellers and girls," he cried, "I've got some news for yer, and +when you hear it you'll think the day of judgment has come, and you're +goin' to git your reward." + +An astonished "Oh!" came up from the assemblage. + +"Out with it," said Bob Wood, in his coarse, rough voice. + +"Well, fust," said Hiram, his face glowing with animation, "you know we +got up a subscription to pay for the barge and made me treasurer, cuz I +worked in a deacon's family. Wall, when I asked Bill Stalker to-night +how much the bill would be, just to see if I'd got enough, he told me +that a Mr. Sawyer, who said he 'boarded down to Deacon Mason's, had paid +the hull bill and given him a dollar beside for hisself." Cheers and the +clapping of hands showed that the city fellow's liberality was +appreciated by a majority, at least, of the singing society. "When we +git on the barge I'll pay yer back yer money, and the ride won't cost +any one on us a durn cent. That ain't all. Mr. Sawyer jest told me +hisself that when he was over to Eastborough Centre yesterday he ordered +a hot supper for the whole caboodle, and it'll be ready for us when we +git over to the Eagle Hotel. So come along and git your seats in the +barge." A wild rush was made for the door, but Hiram backed against it +and screamed at the top of his voice: "No two girls must sit close +together. Fust a girl, then a feller, next a girl, then a feller, next a +girl, then a feller, that's the rule." + +He opened the door and dashed out, followed by all the members of the +society excepting the Professor and 'Zekiel, who were left alone in the +room. + +"See that flock of sheep," said the Professor to 'Zekiel, with a strong +touch of sarcasm in his tone. "That's what makes me so cussed mad. +Brains and glorious achievement count for nothin' in this community. If +a city swell comes along with a pocketful of money and just cries, +'Baa,' over the fence they all go after him." + +"Hasn't it always been so?" asked 'Zekiel. + +"Not a bit of it," said Strout. "In the old days, kings and queens and +princes used to search for modest merit, and when found they rewarded +it. Nowadays modest merit has to holler and yell and screech to make +folks look at it." + +Hiram again appeared in the room, beckoning to the two occupants. + +"Say, ain't you two comin' along?" he cried. "We've saved good places +for yer." + +"Where's Mr. Sawyer?" asked 'Zekiel. + +"Oh, he's goin' along with the crowd," said Hiram; "he's got a seat in +between Miss Putnam and Miss Mason, and looks as snug as a bug in a rug. +There's a place for you, Mr. Pettengill, between Miss Mason and Mandy, +and I comes in between Mandy and Mrs. Hawkins. Mandy wanted her mother +to go cuz she works so confounded hard and gits out of doors so seldom, +and there's a seat 'tween Mrs. Hawkins and Tilly James for the +Professor, and Sam Hill's t'other side of Tilly and nex' to S'frina +Cotton." + +"I guess I can't go," said 'Zekiel. "The house is all alone, and I'm +kind of 'fraid thet thet last hoss I bought may get into trouble again +as he did last night. So I guess I'd better go home and look arter +things." Leaning over he whispered in Hiram's ear, "I reckon you'd +better take the seat between Huldy and Mandy, you don't want ter +separate a mother from her daughter, you know." + +"All right," said Hiram, with a knowing wink, "I'm satisfied to +obleege." + +Hiram then turned to the Professor: "Ain't yer goin', Mr. Strout?" + +"When this sleigh ride was projected," said the Professor with dignity, +"I s'posed it was to be for the members of the singin' class and not for +boardin' mistresses and city loafers." + +"I guess it don't make much difference who goes," replied Hiram, "as +long as we git a free ride and a free supper for nothing." + +"Present my compliments to Mr. Sawyer," said the Professor, "and tell +him I've had my supper, and as I don't belong to a fire company, I don't +care for crackers and cheese and coffee so late in the evenin'." + +"Oh, bosh!" cried Hiram, "it's goin' to be a turkey supper, with fried +chicken and salery and cranberry juice, and each feller's to have a +bottle of cider and each girl a bottle of ginger ale." + +A horn was heard outside, it being the signal for the starting of the +barge. Without stopping to say good-by, Hiram rushed out of the room, +secured his seat in the barge, and with loud cheers the merry party +started off on their journey. + +The Professor extinguished the lights and accompanied by 'Zekiel left +the building. He locked the door and hung the key in its accustomed +place, for no one at Mason's Corner ever imagined that a thief could be +so bad as to steal anything from a schoolhouse. And it was once argued +in town meeting that if a tramp got into it and thus escaped freezing, +that was better than to have the town pay for burying him. + +Both men walked along silently until they reached Mrs. Hawkins' boarding +house; here the Professor stopped and bade 'Zekiel good night. After +doing so he added: + +"Pettengill, you and me must jine agin the common enemy. This town ain't +big enough to hold us and this destroyer of our happiness, and we must +find some way of smokin' him out." + +The slumbers of both 'Zekiel and the Professor were broken when the +jolly party returned home after midnight. 'Zekiel recalled Hiram's +description of the arrangement of seats, and another deep sigh escaped +him; but this time there were no leafless trees and winter wind to +supply an echo. + +The Professor's half-awakened mind travelled in very different channels. +He imagined himself engaged in several verbal disputes with a number of +fisticuff encounters in which he invariably proved to be too much for +the city fellow. Just before he sank again into a deep sleep he imagined +that the entire population of Mason's Corner escorted a certain young +man forcibly to the railroad station at Eastborough Centre and put him +in charge of the expressman, to be delivered in Boston. And that young +man, in the Professor's dream, had a tag tied to the lapel of his coat +upon which was written, "Quincy Adams Sawyer." + + + + +CHAPTER II. + +MASON'S CORNER FOLKS. + + +In 186-- the town of Eastborough was located in the southeastern part of +Massachusetts, in the county of Normouth. It was a large town, being +fully five miles wide from east to west and from five to seven miles +long, the northern and southern boundaries being very irregular. + +The town contained three villages; the western one being known as West +Eastborough, the middle one as Eastborough Centre, and the easterly one +as Mason's Corner. West Eastborough was exclusively a farming section, +having no store or post office. As the extreme western boundary was only +a mile and a half from Eastborough Centre, the farmers of the western +section of the town were well accommodated at the Centre. The middle +section contained the railroad station, at which five trains a day, each +way, to and from Boston, made regular stops. The Centre contained the +Town Hall, two churches, a hotel, and express office, a bank, newspaper +office, and several general stores. Not very far from the hotel, on a +side road, was the Almshouse, or Poorhouse, as it was always called by +the citizens of Eastborough. + +Between the Centre and Mason's Corner was a long interval of three +miles. The land bordering the lower and most direct route was, to a +great extent, hilly and rocky, or full of sand and clay pits. The upper +and longest road ran through a more fertile section. The village of +Mason's Corner contained the best arable land in the town, and the +village had increased in population and wealth much faster than the +other sections of the town. To the east of the village of Mason's +Corner lay the town of Montrose, and beyond that town was situated the +thriving city of Cottonton, devoted largely, as its name indicated, to +the textile manufacturing industries. + +The best known and most popular resident of Mason's Corner was Deacon +Abraham Mason. He was a retired farmer on the shady side of fifty. He +had married young and worked very hard, his labors being rewarded with +pecuniary success. When a little over fifty, he gave up active farm work +and devoted his time to buying and selling real estate, and to church +and town affairs, in both of which he was greatly interested. His house +stood about halfway down a somewhat steep hill, the road over which, at +the top, made a sharp turn. It was this turn which had received the +appellation of Mason's Corner and from which the village eventually had +taken its name. + +Mrs. Sophia Mason, the Deacon's wife, was a little less than fifty years +of age. She was a comely, bright-faced, bright-eyed, and energetic +woman, who had been both a loving wife and a valued helpmeet to her +husband. Their only living child was a daughter named Huldah Ann, about +nineteen years of age, and considered by many to be the prettiest and +smartest girl in Mason's Corner. The only other resident in Deacon +Mason's house was Hiram Maxwell, a young man about thirty years of age. +He had been a farm hand, but had enlisted in 1861, and served through +the war. On his return home he was hired by Deacon Mason to do such +chores as required a man's strength, for the Deacon's business took him +away from home a great deal. Hiram was not exactly what would be called +a pronounced stutterer or stammerer; but when he was excited or had a +matter of more than ordinary importance to communicate, a sort of +lingual paralysis seemed to overtake him and interfered materially with +the vocal expression of his thoughts and ideas. Type would be inadequate +to express the facial contortions and what might be termed the +chromatic scales of vocal expression in which he often indulged, and +they are, therefore, left for full comprehension to those of inventive +and vivid imaginative powers. This fact should not be lost sight of in +following the fortunes of this brave soldier, honest lover, good +husband, and successful business man. + +The Pettengill homestead was situated on the other side of the road, +southwest from Deacon Mason's house. Ezekiel's grandfather had left +three sons, Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, the latter being Ezekiel's +father. Abraham had died when he was a young man, and Jacob had been +dead about five years. Uncle Ike was in his seventy-sixth year, and was +Ezekiel's only living near relative, with the exception of his sister +Alice, who had left home soon after her father's death and was now +employed as bookkeeper in a large dry goods store in Boston. + +Ezekiel was about twenty-eight years of age, being seven years older +than his sister. He was a hardy, strong-willed, self-reliant young +fellow. He loved farming and had resolved to make a better living out of +it than his father had ever done. A strong incentive to win success +proceeded from the fact that he had long been in love with "Huldy Ann," +the Deacon's daughter, and he had every reason to believe that his +affection was returned, although no formal engagement existed between +them, and marriage had never been spoken of by them or the young lady's +parents. + +Uncle Ike Pettengill had been a successful business man in Boston, but +at the age of sixty had wearied of city life, and decided to spend the +rest of his days in the country. Despite the objections of his wife and +two grown up daughters, he sold out his business, conveyed two-thirds of +his property to his wife and children, and invested the remaining third +in an annuity, which gave him sufficient income for a comfortable +support. He did not live at the Pettengill house, but in a little +two-roomed cottage or cabin that he had had built for him on the lower +road, about halfway between Mason's Corner and Eastborough Centre. A +short distance beyond his little house, a crossroad, not very often +used, connected the upper and lower roads. Uncle Ike had a fair-sized +library, read magazines and weekly papers, but never looked at a daily +newspaper. His only companions were about two hundred hens and chickens +and a big St. Bernard dog which he had named "Swiss," after his native +land. + +The other residents of the Pettengill homestead were two young men named +Jim and Bill Cobb, who aided Ezekiel in his farm work, and Mandy +Skinner, the "help," who was in reality the housekeeper of the +establishment. Jim and Bill Cobb were orphans, Jim being about +twenty-one and Bill three years older. When young they resembled each +other very closely, for this reason they had been nicknamed "Cobb's +Twins," and the name had clung to them, even after they had reached +manhood. + +Mandy Skinner was about twenty-three, and was the only child of Malachi +and Martha Skinner. Her father was dead, but her mother had married +again and was now Mrs. Jonas Hawkins, the proprietor of Mrs. Hawkins's +boarding house, which was situated in the square opposite Hill's +grocery, and about a quarter of a mile from the top of Mason's Hill. +Mandy had a double burden upon her shoulders. One was the care of such a +large house and family, and the other was the constant necessity of +repelling the lover-like hints and suggestions of Hiram Maxwell, who was +always ready and willing to overlook his work at Deacon Mason's so that +he could run down and see if Mandy wanted him to do anything for her. + +Hill's grocery was owned and carried on by Benoni Hill and his son +Samuel. Their residence was on the easterly edge of the town, being next +to the one occupied by old Ben James, who was a widower with one +daughter, Miss Matilda James. + +About a quarter of a mile east of Hill's grocery was the village church, +presided over by the Rev. Caleb Howe. He had one son, Emmanuel, who had +graduated at Harvard and had intended to fit for the ministry, but his +health had failed him and he had temporarily abandoned his studies. He +was a great admirer of Miss Lindy Putnam, because, as he said, she was +so pretty and accomplished. But after long debate one evening at the +grocery store, it had been decided without a dissenting vote that "the +minister's son was a lazy 'good-for-nothing', and that he wanted the +money more than he did the gal." The village schoolhouse stood a short +distance eastward from the church. The teacher, Miss Seraphina Cotton, a +maiden lady of uncertain age, who boasted that the city of Cottonton was +named after her grandfather, boarded at the Rev. Mr. Howe's, and was +ardently attached to the minister's wife, who was an invalid and rarely +seen outside of her home. + +On the upper road, about half a mile to the west of Deacon Mason's, +lived Mr. and Mrs. Silas Putnam. They owned the largest house and best +farm at Mason's Corner. They were reputed to be quite wealthy and it was +known for a sure fact that their only daughter, Lindy, was worth one +hundred thousand dollars in her own right, it having been left to her by +her only brother, J. Jones Putnam, who had died in Boston about five +years before. + +Mrs. Hawkins had a large house, but it was always full of boarders, all +of the masculine gender. Mrs. Hawkins had declared on several occasions +that she'd "sooner have the itch than a girl boarder." She was a +hard-working woman and had but one assistant, a young girl named Betsy +Green, one of whose sisters was "working-out" up at Mrs. Putnam's. Mrs. +Hawkins's husband, his wife declared, was "no account nohow," and for +the present her estimate of him must be accepted without question. + +Among Mrs. Hawkins's twelve boarders were Robert Wood and Benjamin +Bates, two young men who were natives of Montrose. Bates was a brick and +stone mason, and Wood was a carpenter, and they had been quite busily +employed during the two years they had lived at Mason's Corner. + +Mrs. Hawkins owned a buggy and carryall and a couple of fairly good +horses. They were cared for by Abner Stiles. He was often called upon to +carry passengers over to the railway station at the Centre, and was the +mail carrier between the Centre and Mason's Corner, for the latter +village had a post office, which was located in Hill's grocery, Mr. +Benoni Hill being the postmaster. + +Since his return from the war Mr. Obadiah Strout had been Mrs. Hawkins's +star boarder. He sat at the head of the table and acted as moderator +during the wordy discussions which accompanied every meal. Abner Stiles +believed implicitly in the manifest superiority of Obadiah Strout over +the other residents of Mason's Corner. He was his firm ally and +henchman, serving him as a dog does his master, not for pay, but because +he loves the service. + +Mr. Strout was often called the "Professor" because he was the +singing-master of the village and gave lessons in instrumental and vocal +music. The love of music was another bond of union between Strout and +Stiles, for the latter was a skilful, if not educated, performer on the +violin. + +The Professor was about forty years of age, stout in person, with smooth +shaven face and florid complexion. In Eastborough town matters he was a +general factotum. He had been an undertaker's assistant and had worked +for the superintendent of the Poorhouse. In due season and in turn he +had been appointed to and had filled the positions of fence viewer, road +inspector, hog reeve, pound keeper, and the year previous he had been +chosen tax collector. Abner Stiles said that there "wasn't a better man +in town for selectman and he knew he'd get there one of these days." + +To those residents of Mason's Corner whose names have been given, whose +homes have been described and some whose personal peculiarities have +been portrayed, must be added a late arrival. The new-comer whose advent +in town during Christmas week had caused so much discussion at the +rehearsal in the old red schoolhouse, and whose liberality in providing +a hot supper with all the fixings for the sleighing party from Mason's +Corner, when it arrived at the Eagle Hotel at Eastborough Centre, had +won, at a bound, the hearts of the majority of the younger residents of +Mason's Corner. The village gossips wondered who he was, what he was, +what he came for, and how long he intended to stay. If these questions +had been asked of him personally, he might have returned answers to the +first three questions, but it would have been beyond his power to have +answered the fourth inquiry at that time. But the sayings and doings of +certain individuals, and a chain of circumstances not of his own +creation and beyond his personal control, conspired to keep him there +for a period of nearly four months. During that time certain things were +said and done, certain people were met and certain events took place +which changed the entire current of this young man's future life, which +shows plainly that we are all creatures of circumstance and that a man's +success or failure in life may often depend as much or even more upon +his environment than upon himself. + + + + +CHAPTER III. + +THE CONCERT IN THE TOWN HALL. + + +It was the evening of New Year's day, 186--. The leading people, in fact +nearly all the people of the three villages forming the town of +Eastborough, were assembled in the Town Hall at Eastborough Centre. The +evening was pleasant and this fact had contributed to draw together the +largest audience ever assembled in that hall. Not only was every seat +taken, but the aisles were also crowded, while many of the younger +citizens had been lifted up to eligible positions in the wide window +seats of the dozen great windows on three sides of the large hall. + +The large attendance was also due in part to the fact that a new and +original musical composition by Mr. Strout, the singing-master, would be +sung for the first time in public. Again, it had been whispered up at +Hill's grocery at Mason's Corner that the young city fellow who was +boarding at Deacon Mason's was going to be present, and this rumor led +to a greatly increased attendance from that village. + +The audience was a typical one of such communities at that period; +horny-handed farmers with long shaggy beards and unkempt hair, dressed +in ill-fitting black suits; matronly looking farmers' wives in their +Sunday best; rosy-cheeked daughters full of fun and vivacity and +chattering like magpies; tall, lank, awkward, bashful sons, and +red-haired, black-haired, and tow-headed urchins of both sexes, the +latter awaiting the events of the evening with the wild anticipations +that are usually called forth only by the advent of a circus. + +The members of the chorus were seated on the large platform, the girls +being on the right and the fellows on the left. A loud hum of +conversation arose from the audience and chorus, a constant turning over +and rattling of programmes gave a cheerful and animated appearance to +the scene. The centre door at the rear of the platform was opened and +all eyes were turned in that direction, the chorus twisting their necks +or turning half 'round in their seats. + +Professor Strout entered and was greeted with a loud burst of applause. +He wore a dress suit that he had hired in Boston, and there was a large +white rose in the lapel of his coat. He was accompanied by Miss Tilly +James, the pianist, who wore a handsome wine-colored silk dress that had +been made for the occasion by the best dressmaker in Cottonton. As she +took her place at the piano and ran her fingers over the keys, she, too, +came in for a liberal round of applause. Professor Strout bowed to the +audience, then turning his back upon them, he stood with baton uplifted +facing the chorus and waiting the advent of the town committee. Every +eye in the audience was fixed upon the programme. It contained the +information that the first number was an opening chorus entitled, +"Welcome to the Town Committee," written and composed by Professor +Obadiah Strout and sung for the first time with great success at the +last annual concert. + +The door at the rear of the platform was opened again and Deacon Abraham +Mason, the Rev. Caleb Howe, and Mr. Benoni Hill, the members of the town +committee on singing school, entered. Deacon Mason was accompanied by +Quincy Adams Sawyer, and all eyes were fastened on the couple as they +took their seats at the right of the platform, the Rev. Mr. Howe and Mr. +Hill being seated on the left. + +Quincy Adams Sawyer in appearance and dress was a marked contrast to the +stout, hardy, and rugged young farmers of Eastborough. He had dark hair, +dark eyes, and a small black mustache curled at the ends. His face was +pallid, but there was a look of determination in the firmly set jaw, +resolute mouth, and sharp eye. He wore a dark suit with Prince Albert +coat. Upon one arm hung an overcoat of light-colored cloth. He wore +light-brown kid gloves and in one hand carried a light-colored Kossuth +hat. + +As soon as the committee and their guest had taken their seats, +Professor Strout tapped upon his music stand with his baton and the +members of the Eastborough Singing Society arose to their feet with that +total disregard of uniformity and unanimity of motion that always +characterizes a body of undrilled performers. Each girl was obliged to +look at her own dress and that of her neighbor to see if they were all +right, while each fellow felt it absolutely necessary to shuffle his +feet, pull down his cuffs, pull up his collar, and arrange his necktie. +Despite the confusion and individual preparations the chorus took the +opening note promptly and sang the "Welcome to the Town Committee" with +a spirit and precision which well merited the applause it received. The +words were not printed on the programme, but they conveyed the idea that +the members of the singing class were very much obliged to the town +committee for hiring a singing-master and paying his salary. Also that +the members of the chorus had studied hard to learn to sing and would do +their best that evening as a return for the favors-bestowed upon them by +the town. + +Professor Strout then advanced to the edge of the platform and called +the attention of the audience to the second number upon the programme +which read, "Address by Abraham Mason, Esq." Prof. Strout added that by +special request Deacon Mason's remarks would relate to the subject of +"Education." The Deacon drew a large red bandanna handkerchief from his +pocket, wiped the perspiration from his forehead, blew his nose +vigorously, and then advanced to the centre of the platform near the +music stand. + +"I dote on eddikation," he began; "it makes the taxes high; I've lived +in this town man and boy more'n fifty year and I never saw them anythin' +but high." A general laugh greeted this remark. "But when I'm in town +meetin' I allus votes an aye to make our schools as good as those found +in neighborin' towns, and none of them are any too good. For my +political actions I'm proud to give my grounds, for I never cast a vote +that I was ashamed to give my reasons for." A burst of applause followed +this declaration. + +"Years back when I was young, we had no modern notions. We had to be +satisfied with the three R's, Readin', 'Ritin', and 'Rithmetic, and +larnin' was dealt out in rather meagre potions, 'bout three months in +the winter after the wood was cut, sawed and split, and piled up in the +wood-shed. We allus had to work in the summer, make hay and fill the +barn in, and not till winter come could get a speck of larnin,' and then +it took most of our time to pile wood into the stove and settle our +personal accounts with the teacher." An audible titter ran through the +audience at this sally. "And yet when I was young, though this community +was rather behind in letters, no people in the land could say they were +our betters. But now the world is changed, we live without such +grubbin', learn Latin, French, and Greek, how to walk Spanish, talk +Dutch, draw picters, keep books, fizziology, and lots of other 'ologies +and much piano drubbin'. Now what brought this about? I think I have a +notion; you know the immergrants from about every country under the sun +have piled across the ocean. They've done the diggin' and other rough +work and we've thruv on their labor. I have some ready cash. Mr. Strout +comes 'round and gets some of't every year, and likewise my neighbor +has some put aside for a rainy day." Many of the audience who probably +had nothing laid aside glanced at the well-to-do farmers who had the +reputation of being well fixed as regards this world's goods. "Perhaps +I'm doin' wrong, but I would like my darter to know as much as those +that's likely to come arter. But if the world keeps on its progress so +bewild'rin' and they put some more 'ologies into the schools together +with cabinet organs and fife and drum, I'm afraid it will cost my darter +more than it did me to eddikate her childrin." + +A storm of applause filled the hall when the Deacon concluded his +remarks. As he resumed his chair, Quincy handed him a tumbler of water +that he had poured from a pitcher that stood upon a table near the +piano. This act of courtesy was seen and appreciated by the audience and +a loud clapping of hands followed. At the commencement of the Deacon's +speech, the Professor had left the platform, for it gave him an +opportunity for an intended change of costume, for which time could be +found at no other place on the programme. It was a marvellous rig that +he wore when he reappeared. A pair of white duck pantaloons, stiffly +starched, were strapped under a pair of substantial, well-greased, +cowhide boots. The waistcoat was of bright-red cloth with brass buttons. +The long-tailed blue broad-cloth coat was also supplied with big brass +buttons. He wore a high linen dickey and a necktie made of a small silk +American flag. On his head he had a cream-colored, woolly plug hat and +carried in his hand a baton resembling a small barber's pole, having +alternate stripes of red, white, and blue with gilded ends. + +[Illustration: IT WAS A MARVELLOUS RIG THAT HE WORE WHEN HE REAPPEARED.] + +The appearance of this apparition of Uncle Sam was received with cries, +cheers, and loud clapping of hands. The Professor bowed repeatedly in +response to this ovation, and it was a long time before he could make +himself heard by the audience. At last he said in a loud voice: + +"The audience will find the words of number three printed on the last +page of the programme, and young and old are respectfully invited to +jine in the chorus." + +A fluttering of programmes followed and this is what the audience found +on the last page, "Hark! and Hear the Eagle Scream, a new and original +American national air written, composed, and sung for the first time in +public by Professor Obadiah Strout, author of last season's great +success, 'Welcome to the Town Committee,'" + + I. + + They say our wheat's by far the best; + Our Injun corn will bear the test; + Our butter, beef, and pork and cheese, + The furriner's appetite can please. + The beans and fishballs that we can + Will keep alive an Englishman; + While many things I can't relate + He must buy from us or emigrate. + + CHORUS: + + Raise your voices, swing the banners, + Pound the drums and bang pianners; + Blow the fife and shriek for freedom, + 'Meriky is bound to lead 'em. + Emigrate! ye toiling millions! + Sile enuf for tens of billions! + Land of honey, buttermilk, cream; + Hark! and hear the eagle scream. + + + II. + + In manufactures, too, we're some; + Take rubber shoes and chewing gum; + In cotton cloth, and woollen, too, + In time we shall outrival you; + Our ships with ev'ry wind and tide, + With England's own will sail beside, + In ev'ry port our flag unfurled, + When the Stars and Stripes will rule the world. + + CHORUS: + + + III. + + For gold and silver, man and woman, + For things that's raided, made, dug, or human, + 'Meriky's the coming nation; + She's-bound to conquer all creation! + Per'aps you call this brag and bluster; + No, 'taint nuther, for we muster + The best of brain, the mighty dollar; + We'll lead on, let others foller. + + CHORUS: + +Professor Strout sang the solo part of the song himself. The singing +society and many of the audience joined in the chorus. Like many +teachers of vocal music, the Professor had very little voice himself, +but he knew how to make the best possible use of what he did possess. +But the patriotic sentiment of the words, the eccentric make-up of the +singer his comical contortions and odd grimaces, and what was really a +bright, tuneful melody won a marked success for both song and singer. +Encore followed encore. Like many more cultured audiences in large +cities the one assembled in Eastborough Town Hall seemed to think that +there was no limit to a free concert and that they were entitled to all +they could get. But the Professor himself fixed the limit. When the song +had been sung through three times he ran up the centre aisle of the +platform and facing the audience, he directed the chorus, holding the +variegated baton in one hand and swinging his woolly plug hat around +his head with the other. At the close, amid screams, cheers, and +clapping of hands, he turned upon his heel, dashed through the door and +disappeared from sight. + +The next number upon the programme was a piano solo by Miss Tilly James. +Nothing could have pleased her audience any better than the well-known +strains of the ever popular "Maiden's Prayer." In response to an encore +which Quincy originated, and dexterously led, Miss James played the +overture to Rossini's "William Tell" without notes. A fact which was +perceived by the few, but unnoticed by the many. + +At the close of these instrumental selections, the Professor reappeared +in evening costume and again assumed the directorship of the concert. +Robert Wood had a ponderous bass voice, which if not highly cultivated +was highly effective, and he sang "Simon the Cellarer" to great +acceptation. Next followed a number of selections sung without +accompaniment by a male quartette composed of Cobb's twins, who were +both tenors, Benjamin Bates, and Robert Wood. This feature was loudly +applauded and one old farmer remarked to his neighbor, who was evidently +deaf, in a loud voice that was heard all over the hall, "That's the kind +of music that fetches me," which declaration was a signal for another +encore. + +The singing society then sang a barcarolle, the words of the first line +being, "Of the sea, our yacht is the pride." It went over the heads of +most of the audience, but was greatly appreciated fey the limited few +who were acquainted with the difficulties of accidentals, syncopations, +and inverted musical phrases. + +According to the programme the next feature was to be a duet entitled +"Over the Bridge," composed by Jewell and sung by Arthur Scates and Miss +Lindy Putnam. The Professor stepped forward and waved his hand to quiet +the somewhat noisy assemblage. + +"The next number will have to be omitted," he said, "because Mr. Scates +is home sick abed. The doctor says he's got a bad case of quinsy," with +a marked emphasis on the last word, which, however, failed to make a +point. "In response to requests, one verse of 'Hark! and Hear the Eagle +Scream' will be sung to take the place of the piece that's left out." + +While the Professor was addressing the audience, Quincy had whispered +something in Deacon Mason's ear which caused the latter to smile and nod +his head approvingly. Quincy arose and reached the Professor's side just +as the latter finished speaking and turned towards the chorus. Quincy +said something in a low tone to the Professor which caused Mr. Strout to +shake his head in the negative in a most pronounced manner. Quincy spoke +again and looked towards Miss Putnam, who was seated in the front row, +and whose face wore a somewhat disappointed look. + +Again the Professor shook his head by way of negation and the words, "It +can't be did," were distinctly audible to the majority of both singing +society and audience, at the same time a look of contempt spread over +the singing-master's face. Quincy perceived it and was nettled by it. He +was not daunted, however, nor to be shaken from his purpose, so he said +in a loud voice, which was heard in all parts of the hall: "I know the +song, and will sing it if Miss Putnam and the audience are willing." + +With a smile upon her face, Miss Putnam nodded her acquiescence. All the +townspeople had heard of Quincy's liberality in providing a hot supper +for the sleighing party the night before, and cries of "Go ahead! Give +him a chance! We want to hear him!" and "Don't disappoint Miss Putnam," +were heard from all parts of the hall. The Professor was obliged to give +in. He sat down with a disgusted look upon his face, and from that +moment war to the knife was declared between these champions of city and +country civilization. + +Mr. Sawyer went to the piano, opened Miss James's copy of the music and +placed it upon the music rack before her, saying a few words to her +which caused her to smile. Quincy then approached Lindy, opened her +music at the proper place and passed it to her. Next he took her hand +and led her to the front of the platform. These little acts of courtesy +and politeness, performed in an easy, graceful, and self-possessed +manner, were seen by all and won a round of applause. + +The duet was beautifully sung. Quincy had a fine well-trained tenor +voice, while Miss Putnam's mezzo-soprano was full and melodious and her +rendition fully as artistic as that of her companion. One, two, three, +four, five, six encores followed each other in quick succession, in +spite of Professor Strout's endeavors to quell the applause and take up +the next number. The ovation given earlier in the evening to Professor +Strout was weak in comparison with that vouchsafed to Quincy and Lindy +when they took their seats. In vain did the Professor strive to make +himself heard. Audience and chorus seemed to be of one mind. The +Professor, his face as red as a beet, turned to Ezekiel Pettengill and +said: + +"That was a mighty impudent piece of business, don't you think so?" + +"They're both mighty fine singers," Ezekiel responded in a rather +unsympathetic tone. + +Quincy realized that something must be done to satisfy the demands of +the now thoroughly excited audience. Going to Miss James, he asked her a +question in a low voice, in reply to which she nodded affirmatively. He +next sought Miss Putnam and evidently asked her the same question, +receiving a similar answer. Then he led her forward, and she sang the +opening part of "Listen to the Mocking Bird." After they had sung the +chorus it was repeated on the piano and Quincy electrified the audience +by whistling it, introducing all the trills, staccatos, and roulades +that he had heard so many times come from under Billy Morris's big +mustache at the little Opera House on Washington Street, opposite Milk, +run by the Morris Brothers, Johnny Pell, and Mr. Trowbridge, and when he +finished there flashed through his mind a pleasant memory of Dr. Ordway +and his Aeolians. An encore was responded to, but the tumult still +continued. Turning to Ezekiel, Strout said: + +"Ain't it a cussed shame to spoil a first-class concert this way?" + +"He's a mighty fine whistler," replied Ezekiel in the same tone that he +had used before. + +Finally to quiet their exuberance Quincy was obliged to say a few words, +which were evidently what the audience was waiting for. + +"Ladies and gentlemen," he said, "the hour is getting late and there is +another number on the programme. Miss Putnam is tired and I shall have +to wet my whistle before I can use it again. I thank you for your kind +indulgence and applause." + +This little speech pleased the audience. It was down to their level, +with "no sign of stuckupativeness about it," as one country girl +remarked to her chum. Quincy bowed, the audience laughed, and quiet was +restored. + +The Professor had fidgeted, fumed, and fussed during Quincy's occupancy +of the platform. He now arose with feelings impossible to express and +took up his baton to lead the closing chorus. He brought it down with +such a whack upon the music stand that it careened, tottered, and fell +to the platform with a crash. Tilly James leaned over and whispered to +Huldy Mason: "The Professor seems to have a bad attack of Quincy, too." +And the two girls smothered their laughs in their handkerchiefs. If the +singing society had not been so well acquainted with the closing chorus +the Professor certainly would have thrown them out by his many mistakes +in beating time. The piece was a "sleighride" song. The Professor forgot +to give the signal for the ringing of the sleigh bells, but the members +of the singing society did not, and their introduction, which was +unexpected by the audience, to use a theatrical term, "brought down the +house." The number was well rendered, despite the manifest defects in +leadership. The concert came to a close. + +Deacon Mason and his wife, accompanied by their daughter, Huldy, and +Rev. Mr. Howe, occupied a double sleigh, as did Hiram, Mandy, and Cobb's +twins. Another double-seated conveyance contained Mr. and Mrs. Benoni +Hill, their son, Samuel, and Miss Tilly James. Quincy also had +accommodations for four in his sleigh, but its only occupants were Miss +Putnam and himself. Abner Stiles sat on the front seat of another +double-seated sleigh, while the Professor and Ezekiel were on the back +one; the remainder of the Mason's Corner folks occupied the big barge +which had been used for the sleigh ride the night before. + +The barge led the procession to Mason's Corner, followed by the vehicles +previously mentioned and scores of others containing residents of +Mason's Corner, whose names and faces are alike unknown. By a strange +fatality, the sleigh containing the Professor and Ezekiel was the last +in the line. Ezekiel was inwardly elated that Mr. Sawyer had gone home +with Lindy instead of with Deacon Mason's party. Strout's bosom held no +feelings of elation. He did not seem to care whether the concert was +considered a success or not. He had but one thought in his mind, and +that was the "daring impudence of that city feller." Turning to Ezekiel, +he said: + +[Illustration: "THE BARGE LED THE PROCESSION TO MASON'S CORNER."] + +"I'll get even with that city chap the next time I meet him. As I said +last night, Pettengill, this town ain't big enough to 'hold both on us +and one on us has got to git." + +As he said this, he leaned back in the sleigh and puffed his cigar +savagely while Ezekiel was wondering if Huldy was thinking half as much +about him as he was about her. + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + +ANCESTRY VERSUS PATRIOTISM. + + +Four days had passed since the concert in the Town Hall at Eastborough. +The events of that evening had been freely discussed in barn and +workshop, at table and at the various stores in Eastborough and +surrounding towns, for quite a number had been present who were not +residents of the town. All interest in it had not, however, passed away +as subsequent occurrences proved. + +It was the morning of the fifth of January. Benoni Hill, who ran the +only grocery store at Mason's Corner, was behind his counter and with +the aid of his only son, Samuel, was attending to the wants of several +customers. + +While thus engaged, Miss Tilly James entered, and young Samuel Hill +forgot to ask the customer on whom he had been waiting the usual +question, "Anything else, ma'am?" so anxious was he to speak to and wait +upon the pretty Miss James, whose bright eyes, dark curly hair, and +witty remarks had attracted to her side more suitors than had fallen to +the lot of any other young girl in the village. As yet she had evinced +no especial liking for any particular one of the young men who flocked +about her, and this fact had only served to increase their admiration +for her and to spur them on to renewed efforts to win her favor. + +"Do you know, Miss James," said Samuel, "I can't get it out of my ears +yet." As he said this, he leaned over the counter, and being a brave +young man, looked straight into Miss James's smiling face. + +"If all home remedies have failed," said Tilly, "why don't you go to +Boston and have a doctor examine them?" + +"What a joker you are!" remarked Samuel; "I believe you will crack a +joke on the minister the day you are married." + +"It may be my last chance," rejoined Tilly. "Mother says the inside of a +boiled onion put into the ear is good for some troubles; give me a pound +of tea, Oolong and green mixed, same as we always have." + +As Samuel passed the neatly done up package to Miss James, he leaned +across the counter again and said in a low voice, "You know what is in +my ears, Miss James. How beautifully you played for Mr. Sawyer when he +whistled 'Listen to the Mocking Bird.' I don't think I shall ever forget +it." + +"Well, I don't know about the playing, Mr. Hill. I came near losing my +place several times, because I wanted so much to hear him whistle." + +During this conversation Tilly and Samuel had been so preoccupied that +they had not noticed the entrance of a new-comer and his approach +towards them. Only one other customer, a little girl, was left in the +store, and Mr. Hill, Sr., had gone down cellar to draw her a quart of +molasses. + +As Tilly uttered the words, "I wanted so much to hear him whistle," she +heard behind her in clear, melodious, flute-like notes, the opening +measures of "Listen to the Mocking Bird." Turning quickly, she saw Mr. +Sawyer standing beside her. + +"Why, how do you do, Mr. Sawyer? I am delighted to see you again," she +said in that hearty, whole-souled way that was so captivating to her +country admirers. + +"The delight is mutual," replied Quincy, raising his hat and bowing. + +Samuel Hill was evidently somewhat disturbed by the great friendliness +of the greetings that he had just witnessed. This fact did not escape +Tilly's quick eye, and turning to Mr. Sawyer she said: + +"Have you been introduced to my friend, Mr. Samuel Hill?" + +"I have not had that pleasure," replied Quincy. "This is my first visit +to the store." + +"Then allow me," continued Tilly, "to present you to Mr. Samuel Hull and +to Mr. Benoni Hill, his father, both valued friends of mine," and she +added, as a roguish smile came into her face, "as they keep the only +grocery store in the village, you will be obliged to buy what they have +and pay them what they ask, unless you prefer a three-mile tramp to +Eastborough Centre." + +"I hope you're enjoyin' your stay at Mason's Corner," said Mr. Benoni +Hall, "though I don't s'pose you city folks find much to please yer in a +country town, 'specially in the winter." + +"So far I have found two things that have pleased me very much," replied +Quincy. + +"The milk and eggs, I suppose," remarked Tilly. + +"No," said Quincy, "I refer to Miss Lindy Putnam's fine singing and the +beautiful playing of a young lady who is called Miss James." + +"I have heard," said Tilly, "that you city gentlemen are great +flatterers. That is not the reason why I am obliged to leave you so +suddenly, but the fact is the tea caddy ran low this morning and +grandma's nerves will remain unstrung until she gets a cup of strong +tea." + +With a graceful bow and a parting wave of the hand to the three +gentlemen, the bright and popular young lady left the store. + +"Mr. Hill," said Quincy, addressing the elder gentleman, "I've smoked +all the cigars that I brought from Boston, but Deacon Mason told me +perhaps you had some that would suit me. I like a good-sized, strong +cigar and one that burns freely." + +"Well," said Mr. Hill, "Professor Strout is the most partikler customer +I have in cigars; he says he always smokes a pipe in the house, 'cause +it don't hang round the room so long as cigar smoke does, but he likes a +good cigar to smoke on the street or when he goes ridin'. I just had a +new box come down for him last night. Perhaps some of them will satisfy +yer till I can git jest the kind yer want." + +Mr. Hill took his claw-hammer and opening the box passed it to Quincy, +who took one of the cigars and lighted it. As he did so he glanced at +the brand and the names of the makers, and remarked, "This is a good +cigar, I've smoked this brand before. What do you ask for them?" + +"I git ten cents straight, but as Mr. Strout always smokes up the whole +box before he gits through, though he don't usually buy more than five +at a time, I let him have 'em for nine cents apiece. There ain't much +made on them, but yer see I have to obleege my customers." + +"You don't ask enough for them," said Quincy, throwing down a +twenty-dollar bill. "They sell for fifteen cents, two for a quarter, in +Boston." + +"How many will you have?" asked Mr. Hill, thinking that Boston must be a +paradise for shopkeepers, when seven cents' profit could be made on a +cigar that cost only eight cents. + +"I'll take the whole box," said Quincy. "Call it ten dollars, that's +cheap enough. No matter about the discount." As he said this he took +half a dozen cigars from the box and placed them in a silver-mounted, +silk-embroidered cigar case. "Please do them up for me, Mr. Hill, and +the next time Hiram Maxwell comes in he will take them down to Deacon +Mason's for me." + +After much rummaging through till and pocketbook, Mr. Hill and his son +found ten dollars in change, which was passed to Quincy. He stuffed the +large wad of small bills and fractional currency into his overcoat +pocket and sitting down on a pile of soap boxes drummed on the lower one +with his boot heels and puffed his cigar with evident pleasure. + +While Quincy was thus pleasantly engaged, Professor Strout entered the +store and walked briskly up to the counter. He did not see, or if he +did, he did not notice, Quincy who kept his place upon the pile of soap +boxes. Strout was followed by Abner Stiles, Robert Wood, and several +other idlers, who had been standing on the store platform when the +Professor arrived. + +"Did those cigars come down, Hill?" asked Strout in his usual pompous +way. + +"Yes!" replied Mr. Hill, "but I guess you'll have to wait till I gut +another box down." + +"What for?" asked Strout sharply. "Wa'n't it understood between us that +them cigars was to be kept for me?" + +"That's so," acknowledged Mr. Hill, "but you see, when I told that +gentleman on the soap box over yonder that you smoked them, he bought +the whole box, paid me a cent more apiece than you do. A dollar's worth +saving nowadays. He says they sell for fifteen cents, two for a quarter, +up in Boston." + +"If he's so well posted on Boston prices," growled Strout, "why didn't +he pay them instead of cheatin' you out of two dollars and a half? I +consider it a very shabby trick, Mr. Hill. I shall buy my cigars at +Eastborough Centre in the future. Perhaps you'll lose more than that +dollar in the long run." + +"Perhaps the gentleman will let you have some of them," expostulated Mr. +Hill, "till I can get another box." + +"All I can say is," said Strout in snappish tones, "if the man who +bought them knew that you got them for me, he was no gentleman to take +the whole box. What do yer say, Stiles?" he asked, turning to Abner, +who had kept his eyes fixed on the placid Quincy since entering the +store, though listening intently to what the Professor said. + +"Well, I kinder reckon I agree to what you say, Professor," drawled +Abner, "unless the other side has got some sort of an explanation to +make. 'Tain't quite fair to judge a man without a hearin'." + +"Allow me to offer you one of your favorite brand, Professor Strout," +said Quincy, jumping down from the soap boxes and extending his cigar +case. + +"No! thank you!" said Strout, "I always buy a box at a time, the same as +you do. Judging from the smell of the one you are smoking, I guess they +made a mistake on that box and sent second quality. Give me a five-cent +plug, Mr. Hill, if some gentleman hasn't bought out your whole stock. I +fancy my pipe will have to do me till I get a chance to go over to +Eastborough Centre." + +During this conversation Hiram Maxwell had come in to do an errand for +Mrs. Mason, and several more platform idlers, having heard the +Professor's loud words, also entered. + +Strout was angry. When in that condition he usually lost his head, which +he did on this occasion. Turning to Quincy he said with a voice full of +passion: + +"What's yer name, anyway? You've got so many of them I don't know which +comes fust and which last. Is it Quincy or Adams or Sawyer? How in +thunder did you get 'em all, anyway? I s'pose they tucked 'em on to you +when you was a baby and you was too weak to kick at being so abused." + +At this sally a loud laugh arose from the crowd gathered in the store, +and Abner Stiles, who was the Professor's henchman and man-of-all-work, +cried out, "Fust blood for the Professor." + +Quincy faced the Professor with a pale face and spoke in clear, ringing +tones, still holding his lighted cigar between the fingers of his right +hand. When he spoke all listened intently. + +"Your memory has served you well, Mr. Strout. You have got my names +correct and in the proper order, Quincy Adams Sawyer. I do not consider +that any child could be abused by being obliged to wear such honored +names as those given me by my parents. My mother was a Quincy, and that +name is indissolubly connected with the history and glory of our common +country. My father's mother was an Adams, a family that has given two +Presidents to the United States. If your knowledge of history is as +great as your memory for names you should be aware of these facts, but +your ignorance of them will not affect the opinion of those knowing to +them. My father, Nathaniel Adams Sawyer, has a world-wide reputation as +a great constitutional lawyer, and I am proud to bear his name, combined +with those of my illustrious ancestors. It is needless for me to add +that I, too, am connected with the legal profession." + +Here Hiram Maxwell called out, "First round for Mr. Sawyer." + +"Shut up, you dough-head," cried Strout, his face purple with rage. +Turning to Quincy he said in a choked voice, "My name is Obadiah Strout, +no frills or folderols about it either. That was my father's name too, +and he lived and died an honest man, in spite of it. He raised potatoes +and one son, that was me. When the nation called for volunteers I went +to war to save the money bags of such as you that stayed at home. It was +such fellers as you that made money out of mouldy biscuits and rotten +beef, shoddy clothin', and paper-soled boots. It was such fellers as +your father that lent their money to the government and got big interest +for it. They kept the war going as long as they could. What cared they +for the blood of the poor soldier, as long as they could keep the +profits and interest coming in? It wasn't the Quincys and the Adamses +and the other fellers with big names that stayed at home and hollered +who saved the country, but the rank and file that did the fightin', and +I was one of them." + +As he said this the irascible Professor shook his fist in Quincy's face, +to which a red flush mounted, dyeing cheek and brow. + +"That's the Lord's truth," said Abner Stiles. Then he called out in a +loud voice, "Second round for the Professor. Now for the finish." + +But the finish did not come then. The settlement between these two +lingual disputants did not come for many days. The reason for a sudden +cessation of the wordy conflict was a shrill, feminine voice, which +cried out from the store platform: + +"Hiram Maxwell, where are you? Mother's most out of patience waiting for +you." + +"Good Lord!" cried Hiram, breaking through the crowd and rushing to the +counter to make the long-deferred purchase. "I'm coming in a minute." + +"I think I had better see you home," remarked Huldy Mason, entering the +store. + +As she advanced the crowd separated and moved backward, leaving her a +dear path. + +"Why, how do you do, Mr. Sawyer?" said she in a pleasant voice and with +a sweet smile, as she reached Quincy. "Won't you help me take Hiram +home?" + +"I should be happy to be of service to you," replied Quincy. + +The professor turned his back toward Miss Mason and began talking in an +animated manner to Abner Stiles, Bob Wood, and a few other ardent +sympathizers who gathered about him. + +The rest of the crowd were evidently more interested in watching the +pretty Miss Mason and the genteel Mr. Sawyer. When Hiram left the store +with his purchases under one arm and Quincy's box of cigars under the +other, he was closely followed by Quincy and Huldy, who were talking and +laughing together. The crowd of loungers streamed out on the platform +again to watch their departure. As Quincy and Huldy turned from the +square into the road that led to the Deacon's house they met Ezekiel +Pettengill. Huldy nodded gayly and Quincy raised his hat, but Ezekiel +was not acquainted with city customs and did not return the salutation. +A few moments later the Professor and Abner Stiles were relating to him +the exciting occurrences of the last half hour. + + + + +CHAPTER V. + +MR. SAWYER MEETS UNCLE IKE. + + +Quincy Adams Sawyer had not come down to Mason's Corner with any idea of +becoming a hermit. His father was a great lawyer and a very wealthy man. +He had made Quincy a large allowance during his college days, and had +doubled it when his only son entered his law office to complete his +studies. + +Quincy had worked hard in two ways; first, to read law, so as to realize +the great anticipations that his father had concerning him; second, he +worked still harder between eight in the evening and one, two, and even +four in the morning, to get rid of the too large allowance that his +father made him. + +Like all great men, his father was unsuspicious and easily hoodwinked +about family matters; so when Quincy grew listless and on certain +occasions fell asleep at his desk his renowned and indulgent father +decided it was due to overwork and sent him down to Eastborough for a +month's rest and change of scene. + +His father had known Isaac Pettengill, and in fact had conducted many +successful suits for him; besides this he had drawn up the papers when +Uncle Ike divided his fortune. Quincy's father had written to Uncle Ike, +asking him to find his son a boarding place, and Uncle Ike had selected +Deacon Mason's as the best place for him. + +Quincy's father had told him to be sure and get acquainted with Mr. +Isaac Pettengill, saying he was a man of fine education, and added, "I +sometimes feel, Quincy, as though I would like to go into the country +and take care of a chicken farm myself for a while." + +His mother came of the best New England stock, and although she had been +named Sarah and her husband's name was Nathaniel, we have seen that the +son had been endowed with the rather high-sounding name of Quincy Adams, +which his schoolmates had shortened to Quince, and his college friends +had still further abbreviated to Quinn. Quincy had two sisters and they +had been equally honored with high-sounding appellations, the elder +being called Florence Estelle and the younger Maude Gertrude, but to pa, +ma, brother, and friends they were known as Flossie and Gertie. + +The next day after the affair at Hill's grocery, Quincy put several of +the best cigars in town in his pocket and started towards Eastborough +Centre for a walk, intending to call upon Uncle Ike Pettengill. + +The young man knew that late hours and their usual accompaniments were +what had undermined his health, so he determined to make his vacation of +good service to him and recover his accustomed health and strength, and +when he returned home cut his old acquaintances and settle down +earnestly and honestly to the battle of life. + +He had teen a favorite in city society; he was well educated, well read, +had travelled considerably and was uniformly polite and affable to all +classes, from young children to old men and women; he was very careful +about his dress, and always had that well-groomed appearance, which in +the city elicits commendation, but which leads the average countryman to +say "dude" to himself and near friends when talking about him. + +Quincy was no dude; he had been prominent in all college athletic games; +he had been a member of the 'varsity eight in one of its contests with +Yale, and had won a game for Harvard with Yale at base ball by making a +home run in the tenth inning on a tied score. He was a good musician and +fine singer. In addition he was a graceful dancer, and had taken lessons +in boxing, until his feather-weight teacher suggested that he had better +find a heavy-weight instructor to practise on. + +Quincy was in his twenty-third year. He had been in love a dozen times, +but, as he expressed it, had been saved from matrimony by getting +acquainted with a prettier girl just as he was on the point of popping +the question. + +But we left him walking along on his way to Eastborough Centre. Deacon +Mason had told him Uncle Ike's house was away from the road, some +hundred feet back, and that he could not mistake it, as he could see the +chicken coop from the road. He finally reached it after traversing about +a mile and a half, it being another mile and a half to Eastborough +Centre. + +He found the path that led to the house. As he neared the steps a huge +dog arose from a reclining posture and faced him, not in an ugly mood, +but with an expression that seemed to-say, "An introduction will be +necessary before you come any farther." The dog seemed to understand +that it was his duty to bring about the necessary introduction, so he +gave a series of loud barks. The door was quickly opened and Uncle Ike +stood in the doorway. + +"Do I address Mr. Isaac Pettengill?" asked Quincy. + +Uncle Ike replied, "That's what they write on my letters." + +Quincy continued, "My name is Quincy Adams Sawyer. I am the only son of +the Hon. Nathaniel Sawyer of Boston, and I bear a letter of introduction +from him to you." + +Quincy took the letter from his pocket and held it in his hand. The dog +made a quick movement forward and before Quincy could divine his object, +he took the letter in his mouth and took it to Uncle Ike, and, +returning, faced Quincy again. + +Uncle Ike read the letter slowly and carefully; then he turned to Quincy +and said, "If you will talk about birds, fish, dogs, and chickens, you +are welcome, and I shall be glad to see you now or any time. If you talk +about lawsuits or religion I shall be sorry that you came. I am sick of +lawyers and ministers. If you insist upon talking on such subjects I'll +tell Swiss, and the next time you come he won't even bark to let me know +you're here." + +Quincy took in the situation, and smiling said, "I am tired of lawyers +and lawsuits myself; that is the reason I came down here for a change. +The subjects you mention will satisfy me, if you will allow me to put in +a few words about rowing, running, boxing, and football." + +Uncle Ike replied, "The physically perfect man I admire, the +intellectually perfect man is usually a big bore; I prefer the company +of my chickens." Turning to Swiss he said with a marked change in his +voice, "This is a friend of mine, Swiss." Turning to Quincy he said, "He +will admit you until I give him directions to the contrary." + +The dog walked quietly to one side and Quincy advanced with outstretched +hand toward Uncle Ike. + +Uncle Ike did not extend his. He said, "I never shake hands, young man. +It is a hollow social custom. With Damon and Pythias it meant something. +One was ready to die for the other, and that hand-clasp meant friendship +until death. How many hand shakings mean that nowadays? Besides," with a +queer smile, "I have just been cutting up a broiler that I intend to +cook for my dinner. Come in, you are welcome on the conditions I have +mentioned." + +Quincy obeyed and stepped into the kitchen of Sleepy Hollow. He owned to +himself in after years that that was the most important step he had +taken in life--the turning-point in his career. + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + +SOME NEW IDEAS. + + +"Did you ever kill a chicken?" asked Uncle Ike, as Quincy entered the +room and took a seat in the willow rocker Uncle Ike pointed out to him. + +"No," replied Quincy, "but out in Chicago I saw live hogs killed, +bristles taken off, cut up, assorted according to kind and quality, and +hung up to cool off, in three minutes." + +Uncle Ike responded vehemently, "Yes, I know, and it is a shame to the +American people that they allow such things." + +"That may be true," said Quincy, "but even at that speed they cannot +kill and pack as fast as it is wanted." + +"Yes," said Uncle Ike, "in the old days man feared God, and he treated +man and beast better for that reason. In these days man serves Mammon +and he will do anything to win his favor." + +"Do you think it is true that men were better in the old days?" asked +Quincy. + +"No," answered Uncle Ike, "I didn't say so. I said that in the old days +man was afraid to do these things; now if he has money he is afraid of +neither God, man, nor the devil. To speak frankly, that is why I am so +independent myself. I am sure of enough to support me as long as I live; +I owe no man anything, and I allow no man to owe me anything." + +Quincy, changing the subject, inquired, "What is your method of killing +chickens?" + +Uncle Ike said, "Let me tell you why I devised a new plan. When I was +about eight years old I went with my mother to visit an uncle in a +neighboring town. I was born in Eastborough myself, in the old +Pettengill house. But this happened some twenty miles from here. My +uncle was chopping wood, and boy like, I went out to watch him. An old +rooster kept running around the block, flapping its wings, making +considerable noise. Uncle shooed him off three or four times. Finally +uncle made a grab at him, caught him by the legs, whacked him down on +the block and with his axe cut off his head close to his body, and then +threw it out on the grass right in front of me. Was that rooster dead? I +thought not. It got up on its legs, ran right towards where I was +sitting, and before I could get away I was covered with the blood that +came from its neck. I don't know how far the rooster ran, but I know I +never stopped until I was safe in my mother's arms. The balance of the +time I stayed there you couldn't get me within forty yards of my uncle, +for every time I met him I could see myself running around without my +head." + +"That made a lasting impression on you," remarked Quincy. + +"Yes," said Uncle Ike, "it has lasted me sixty-eight years, one month, +and thirteen days," pointing to a calendar that hung on the wall. + +As Quincy looked in the direction indicated he saw something hanging +beside it that attracted his attention. + +It was a sheet of white paper with a heavy black border. Within the +border were written these words, "Sacred to the memory of Isaac +Pettengill, who was killed at the battle of Gettysburg, July 4th, 1863, +aged twenty-nine years. He died for his namesake and his native land." + +Quincy said interrogatively, "Did you lose a son in the war?" + +"No," was the reply. "I never had a son. That was my substitute." + +"Strange that your substitute should have the same name as yourself." + +"Yes, it would have been if he had, but he didn't. His right name was +Lemuel Butters. But I didn't propose to put my money into such a name as +that." + +"Were you drafted?" asked Quincy. + +"No," said Uncle Ike. "I might as well tell you the whole story, for you +seem bound to have it. I came down here in 1850, when I was about sixty. +Of course I knew what was going on, but I didn't take much interest in +the war, till a lot of soldiers went by one day. They stopped here; we +had a talk, and they told me a number of things that I hadn't seen in +the papers. I haven't read the daily papers for thirteen years, but I +take some weeklies and the magazines and buy some books. Well, the next +day I went over to Eastborough Centre and asked the selectmen how much +it would cost to send a man to the war. They said substitutes were +bringing $150 just then, but that I was over age and couldn't be +drafted, and there was no need of my sending anybody. I remarked that in +my opinion a man's patriotism ought not to die out as long as he lived. +It seemed to me that if a man had $150 it was his duty to pay for a +substitute, if he was a hundred. The selectmen said that they had a +young fellow named Lem Butters who was willing to go if he got a hundred +and fifty. So I planked down the money, but with the understanding that +he should take my name. Well, to make a long story short, I got killed +at Gettysburg and I wrote that out as a reminder." + +"Don't you ever get lonesome alone here by yourself?" Quincy asked. + +"Yes," said Uncle Ike. "I am lonesome every minute of the time. That's +what I came down here for. I got tired being lonesome with other people +around me, so I thought I would come down here and be lonesome all by +myself, and I have never been sorry I came." + +Quincy opened his eyes and looked inquiringly at Uncle Ike. + +"I don't quite understand what you mean by being lonesome with other +people around you," said he. + +"No, of course you don't," replied Uncle Ike. "You are too young. I was +sixty. I was thirty-five when I got married and my wife was only +twenty-two, so when I was sixty she was only forty-seven. One girl was +twenty-three and the other twenty. I went to work at seven o'clock in +the morning and got home at seven at night. My wife and daughters went +to theatres, dinners, and parties, and of course I stayed at home and +kept house with the servant girl. In my business I had taken in two +young fellows as partners, both good, honest men, but soon they got to +figuring that on business points they were two and I was one, and pretty +soon all I had to do was to put wood on the fire and feed the office +cat. So you can see I was pretty lonesome about eighteen hours out of +the twenty-four." + +Quincy said reflectively, "And your family--" + +Uncle Ike broke in, "Are alive and well, I suppose. They don't write me +and I don't write them. I told my partners they must buy me out, and I +gave them sixty days to do it in. I gave my wife and daughters +two-thirds of my fortune and put the other third into an annuity. I am +calculating now that if my health holds good I shall beat the insurance +company in the end." + +Quincy, finding that his inquiries provoked such interesting replies, +risked another, "Are your daughters married?" + +Uncle Ike laughed quietly. "I don't read the daily papers as I said, so +I don't know, but they wouldn't send me cards anyway. They know my ideas +of marriage." + +Quincy, smiling, asked, "Have you some new ideas on that old custom?" + +"Yes, I have," replied Uncle Ike. "If two men go into business and each +puts in money and they make money or don't make it, the law doesn't fix +it so that they must keep together for their natural lives, but allows +the firm to be dissolved by mutual consent." + +"Why, sir, that would make marriage a limited partnership," said Quincy +with a smile. + +"What better is it now?" asked Uncle Ike. "The law doesn't compel +couples to live together if they don't want to, and if they don't want +to live together, why not let them, under proper restrictions, get up +some new firms? Of course, there wouldn't be any objection to parties +living together for their natural lives, if they wanted to, and the fact +that they did would be pretty good proof that they wanted to." + +Quincy started to speak, "But what--" + +"I know what you were going to say," said Uncle Ike. "You are going to +ask that tiresome old question, what will become of the children? Well, +I should consider them part of the property on hand and divide them and +the money according to law." + +"But few mothers would consent to be parted from their children." + +"Oh, that's nonsense," replied Uncle Ike. "I have a Massachusetts State +Report here that says about five hundred children every year are +abandoned by their mothers for some cause or other. They leave them on +doorsteps and in railroad stations; they put them out to board and don't +pay their board; and the report says that every one of these little +waifs is adopted by good people, and they get a better education and a +better bringing up than their own parents could or would give them. Have +you ever read, Mr. Sawyer, of the Austrian baron who was crossed in +love and decided he would never marry?" + +Quincy shook his head. + +"Well, he was wealthy and had a big castle, with no one to live in it, +and during his life he adopted, educated, clothed, and sent out into the +world, fitted to make their own living, more than a thousand children. +To my mind, Mr. Sawyer, he was a bigger man than any emperor or king who +has ever lived." + +Quincy asked, "But how are you going to start such a reform, Mr. +Pettengill? The first couple that got reunited on the partnership plan +would be the laughing stock of the community." + +"Just so," said Uncle Ike, "but I can get over that difficulty. The +State of Massachusetts has led in a great many social reforms. Let it +take the first step forward in this one; let it declare by law that all +marriages on and after a certain day shall terminate five years from the +date of marriage unless the couples wish to renew the bonds. Then let +everybody laugh at everybody else if they want to." + +"Well, how about those couples that were married before that day?" + +"That's easy," was Uncle Ike's reply. "Give them all a chance five years +after the law to dissolve by mutual consent, if they want to. Don't +forget, Mr. Sawyer, that with such a law there would be no need of +divorce courts, and if any man insulted a woman, imprisonment for life +and even the gallows wouldn't be any too good for him. Will you stay to +lunch, Mr. Sawyer? My chicken is about done." + +Quincy arose and politely declined the invitation, saying he had been so +much interested he had remained much longer than he had intended, but he +would be pleased to call again some day if Mr. Pettengill were willing. + +"Oh, yes, come any time," said Uncle Ike, "you're a good listener, and I +always like a man that allows me to do most of the talking. By the way, +we didn't get a chance to say much this time about shooting, fishing, or +football." + +Quincy went down the steps, and Uncle Ike stood at the door, as he did +before he entered. Swiss looked at Quincy with an expression that seemed +to say, "You have made a pretty long call." Quincy patted him on the +head, called him "good dog," and walked briskly down the path towards +the road. When he was about fifty feet from the house, Uncle Ike called +out sharply, "Mr. Sawyer!" Quincy turned on his heel quickly and looked +towards the speaker. Uncle Ike's voice, still sharp, spoke these +farewell words: + +"I forgot to tell you, Mr. Sawyer, that I always chloroform my chickens +before I cut their heads off." + +He stepped back into the house. Swiss, with a bound, was in the room +beside him, and when Quincy again turned his steps towards the road the +closed door had shut them both from view. + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + +"THAT CITY FELLER." + + +As usual, the next morning Hiram was down to the Pettengill house +between nine and ten o'clock. He opened the kitchen door unobserved by +Mandy and looked in at her. She was standing at the sink washing dishes +and singing to herself. Suddenly Hiram gave a jump into the room and +cried out in a loud voice, "How are you, Mandy?" + +She dropped a tin pan that she was wiping, which fell with a clatter, +breaking a plate that happened to be in the sink. + +"I'm much worse, thank you," she retorted, "and none the better for +seeing you. What do you mean by coming into the house and yelling like a +wild Injin? I shall expect you to pay for that plate anyway." + +"He who breaks pays," said Hiram with a laugh. "But why don't you shake +hands with a fellow?" + +"I will if I like and I won't if I like," replied Mandy, extending her +hand, which was covered with soapsuds. + +"Wipe your hand," said Hiram, "and I'll give you this ten cents to pay +for the plate." + +As he said this he extended the money towards her. Mandy did not attempt +to take it, but giving her wet hand a flip threw the soapsuds full in +Hiram's face. He rushed forward and caught her about the waist; as he +did so he dropped the money, which rolled under the kitchen table. + +Mandy turned around quickly and facing Hiram, caught him by both ears, +which she pulled vigorously. He released his hold upon her and jumped +back to escape further punishment. + +"Now, Mr. Hiram Maxwell," said she, facing him, "what do you mean by +such actions? I've a good mind to put you outdoors and never set eyes on +you again. What would Mr. Pettengill have thought if he'd a come in a +minute ago?" + +"I guess he'd a thought that I was gittin' on better'n I really am," +replied Hiram, with a crestfallen look. "Now, Mandy, don't get mad, I +didn't mean nothin', I was only foolin' and you began it fust, by +throwin' that dirty water in my face, and no feller that had any spunk +could stand that." As he said this, a broad smile covered his face. +"Say, Mandy," he continued, "here comes Obadiah Strout, we'd better make +up before he gits in or it'll be all over town that you and me have been +fightin'. Got any chores this mornin', Mandy, that I can do for you?" + +At this moment the kitchen door was again opened and Professor Strout +entered. + +"Where's Pettengill?" he asked of Mandy, not noticing Hiram. + +"I guess he's out in the wood-shed, if he hasn't gone somewheres else," +replied Mandy, resuming her work at the sink. + +Strout turned towards Hiram and said, as if he had been unaware +previously of his presence, "Oh! you there, Hiram? Just go find +Pettengill for me like a good feller and tell him Professor Strout +wishes to see him up to the house." + +"At the same time, Hiram," said Mandy, "go find me that dozen eggs that +I told you I wanted for that puddin'." + +Hiram winked at Mandy, unseen by the Professor and started for the +chicken coop. + +"Guess I'll have a chair," remarked the Professor. + +"All right, if you don't take it with you when you go," replied Mandy, +still busily washing dishes. + +"Fine weather," said Strout. + +"Sorter between," laconically replied Mandy. + +"Did you enjoy the concert?" asked Strout. + +"Some parts of it," said Mandy. "I thought Mr. Sawyer and Miss Putnam +were just splendid. His whistling was just grand." + +"He'll whistle another kind of a tune in a few days," remarked Strout. + +"What? Are you going to give another concert?" asked Mandy, looking at +him for the first time. + +"If I do," replied the Professor, "you bet he won't be one of the +performers." + +"Oh, I see," said Mandy, "you're mad with him 'cause he hogged the whole +show. Mr. Maxwell was just telling me as how Mr. Sawyer was going to +hire the Town Hall on Washington's birthday and bring down a big brass +band from Boston and give a concert that would put you in the shade, and +somebody was telling me, I forget who, that Mr. Sawyer don't like to sit +'round doing nothin', and he's goin' to give music lessons." + +These last two untruthful shots hit the mark, as she knew they would, +and Strout, abandoning the subject, blurted out, "Where in thunder's +that Hiram? I'll be blowed if I don't believe he went to look for the +eggs first." + +"I reckon he did," said Mandy, "if he means to keep on good terms with +me. He ain't likely to tend to stray jobs till he's done up his regular +chores." + +"I s'pose Deacon Mason sends him down here to wait on you?" remarked +Strout with a sneer. + +"Did Deacon Mason tell you that you could have him to run your errands?" +inquired Mandy, with a pout. + +"Guess the best thing I can do," said Strout rising, "is to go hunt +Pettengill up myself." + +"I guess you've struck it right this time," assented Mandy, as Strout +left the room and started for the wood-shed. + +As he closed the door, Mandy resumed her singing as though such +conversations were of everyday occurrence. + +She finished her work at the sink and was fixing the kitchen fire when +Hiram returned. + +"All I could find," said he, holding an egg in each hand. "The hens must +have struck or think it's a holiday. S'pose there's any out in the barn? +Come, let's go look, Mandy. Where's old Strout?" + +"I guess he's gone to look for Mr. Pettengill," replied Mandy, with a +laugh. + +"I kinder thought he would if I stayed long enough," said Hiram, with a +grin; "but come along, Mandy, no hen fruit, no puddin'." + +"Mr. Maxwell," said Mandy, soberly, "I wish you'd be more particular +about your language. You know I abominate slang. You know how careful I +try to be." + +"You're a dandy," said Hiram, taking her hand. + +They ran as far as the wood-shed, when seeing the door open, they hid +behind it until Strout came out and walked down towards the lane to meet +Ezekiel, whom he had seen coming up from the road. Then Hiram and Mandy +sped on their way to the barn, which they quickly reached and were soon +upon the haymow, apparently searching intently for eggs. + +When Strout reached Ezekiel he shook hands with him and said, "Come up +to the barn, Pettengill, I've got a little somethin' I want to tell you +and it's kinder private. It's about that city feller that's swellin' +round here puttin' on airs and tryin' to make us think that his father +is a bigger man than George Washington. He about the same as told me +down to the grocery store that the blood of all the Quincys flowed in +one arm and the blood of all the Adams in the other, but I kinder guess +that the rest of his carcass is full of calf's blood and there's more +fuss and feathers than fight to him." + +By this time they had reached the barn and they sat down upon a pile of +hay at the foot of the mow. + +"Now my plan's this," said Strout. "You know Bob Wood; well, he's the +biggest feller and the best fighter in town. I'm goin' to post Bob up as +to how to pick a quarrel with that city feller. When he gets the lickin' +that he deserves, I rayther think that Deacon Mason will lose a +boarder." + +"But s'posin' Mr. Sawyer licks Bob Wood?" queried Ezekiel. + +"Oh! I don't count much on that," said Strout; "but if it should turn +out that way we're goin' to turn in and get up a surprise party for Miss +Mason and jist leave him out." + +"I hope you ain't goin' to do any fightin' down to Deacon Mason's?" +remarked Ezekiel. + +"Oh, no!" protested Strout, "it'll be kind o' quiet, underminin' work, +as it were. Remarks and sayin's and side whispers and odd looks, the +cold shoulder business, you know, that soon tells a feller that his +company ain't appreciated." + +"Well, I don't think that's quite fair," said Ezekiel. "You don't like +him, Mr. Strout, but I don't think the whole town will take it up." + +The Professor said sternly, "He has insulted me and in doing that he has +insulted the whole town of Eastborough." + +A smothered laugh was heard. + +"By George! What was that?" cried Strout. + +Ezekiel was at a loss what to say, and before he could reply, Mandy's +laughing had caused the hay to move. As it began to slide she clutched +at Hiram in a vain effort to save herself, and the next instant a large +pile of hay, bearing Hiram and Mandy, came down, falling upon Ezekiel +and Strout and covering them from sight. + +When all had struggled to their feet, Ezekiel turned to Mandy and said +sharply, "What were you doin' up there, Mandy?" + +"Looking for eggs," said she, as she ran out of the barn and started for +the house. + +Hiram stood with his mouth distended with a huge smile. Strout turned +towards him and said savagely, "Well, if you're the only egg she got, +'twas a mighty bad one." + +Hiram retorted, "I would rather be called a bad egg than somethin' I +heard about you." + +Strout, in a passion, cried out, "Who said anything about me?" + +Hiram made for the barn door and then said, "heard a gentleman say as +how there was only one jackass in Eastborough and he taught the singin' +school." + +Strout caught up a rake to throw at him, but Hiram was out of sight +before he could carry out his purpose. Turning to Ezekiel, Strout said, +"I bet a dollar, Pettengill, it was that city feller that said that, and +as I have twice remarked and this makes three times, this town ain't big +enough to hold both on us." + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + +CITY SKILL VERSUS COUNTRY MUSCLE. + + +Hiram Maxwell was not called upon to perform very arduous duties at +Deacon Mason's. The Deacon had given up farming several years before, +and Hiram's duties consisted in doing the chores about the house. He had +plenty of spare time, and he used it by going down to the Pettengill +place and talking to Mandy Skinner. + +The next morning after the adventure in the barn, Hiram went down as +usual after his morning's work was done to see Mandy. + +"How do you find things, Mandy?" said Hiram, opening the kitchen door +and putting his head in. + +"By looking for them," said Mandy, without looking up from her work. + +"You are awful smart, ain't you?" retorted Hiram. + +Mandy replied, "People's opinion that I think a good deal more of than +yours have said that same thing, Mr. Maxwell." + +Hiram saw that he was worsted, so he changed the conversation. + +"Anybody to hum?" + +Mandy answered sharply, "Everybody's out but me, of course I am nobody." + +Hiram came in and closed the door. + +"You needn't be so pesky smart with your tongue, Mandy. Of course I +can't keep up with you and you know it. What's up?" + +Mandy replied, "The thermometer. It isn't nearly as cold as it was +yesterday." + +Hiram, seeing a breakfast apparently laid out on a side table inquired, +"Expectin' somebody to breakfast?" + +"No," said Mandy, "I got that ready for Mr. Pettengill, but he didn't +have time to eat it because he was afraid he would lose the train." + +"Has he gone to the city?" asked Hiram. + +"I 'spect he has," answered Mandy. + +"Well," remarked Hiram, "s'posin' I eat that breakfast myself, so as to +save you the trouble of throwin' it away." + +"Well," said Mandy, "I was going to give it to the pigs; I suppose one +hog might as well have it as another." + +Hiram said, "Why, you don't call me a big eater, do you, Mandy?" + +Mandy laughed and said, "I can't tell, I never saw you when you wasn't +hungry. How do you know when you have got enough?" + +Hiram said, "I haven't got but one way of tellin', I allus eats till it +hurts me, then I stop while the pain lasts." + +Then he asked Mandy, "What did 'Zekiel go to the city for?" + +Mandy answered, "Mr. Pettengill does not confide his private business to +me." + +Hiram broke in, "I bet a dollar you know why he went, just the same." + +Mandy said, "I bet a dollar I do." + +Then she broke into a loud laugh. Hiram evidently thought it was very +funny and laughed until the tears stood in his eyes. + +"What are you laughing for?" asked Mandy. + +Hiram's countenance fell. + +"Come down to the fine point, Mandy, durned if I know." + +"That's a great trick of yours, Hiram," said Mandy. "You ought not to +laugh at anything unless you understand it." + +"I guess I wouldn't laugh much then," said Hiram. "I allus laugh when I +don't understand anythin', so folks won't think that I don't know where +the p'int domes in. But say, Mandy, what did Pettengill go to the city +for?" + +During this conversation Hiram had been eating the breakfast that had +been prepared for Ezekiel. Mandy sat down near him and said, "I'll tell +you, but it ain't nothing to laugh at. Mr. Pettengill had a telegraph +message come last night." + +"You don't say so!" said Hiram. "It must be pretty important for persons +to spend money that way. Nobody dead, I s'pose?" + +"Well," said Mandy, "Mr. Pettengill left the telegram in his room and I +had to read it to see whether I had to throw it away or not, and I +remember every word that was in it." + +Hiram asked earnestly, "Well, what was it? Is his sister Alice goin' to +get married?" + +Mandy answered, "No, she is sick and she wanted him to come right up to +Boston at once to see her." + +Hiram said, "'Zekiel must think a powerful lot of that sister of his'n. +Went right off to Boston without his breakfast." + +"I guess it would have to be something nearer than a sister to make you +do that," said Mandy. "I don't know but one thing, Hiram, that would +make you go without your feed." + +"What's that, Mandy?" said he. "You?" + +"No," replied Mandy, "a famine." + +"You ain't no sort of an idea as to what's the matter with her, have +you?" he asked. + +"No, I haven't," said Mandy, "and if I had I don't imagine I would tell +you. Now you better run right home, little boy, for I have to go +upstairs and do the chamber work." + +She whisked out of the room, and Hiram, helping himself to a couple of +apples, left the house and walked slowly along the road towards +Eastborough Centre. + +Suddenly he espied a man coming up the road and soon saw it was Quincy +Adams Sawyer. + +"Just the feller I wanted to see," soliliquized Hiram. + +As Quincy reached him he said, "Mr. Sawyer, I want to speak to you a +minute or two. Come into Pettengill's barn, there's nobody to hum but +Mandy and she's upstairs makin' the beds." + +They entered the barn and sat down on a couple of half barrels that +served for stools. + +"Mr. Sawyer, you've treated me fust rate since you've been here and I +want to do you a good turn and put you on your guard." + +Quincy laughed. + +Hiram continued, "Well, maybe you won't laugh if Bob Wood tackles you. I +won't tell you how I found it out for I'm no eavesdropper, but keep your +eye on Bob Wood and look out he don't play no mean tricks on you." + +Quincy remarked, "I suppose Mr. Strout is at the bottom of this and he +has hired this Bob Wood to do what he can't do himself." + +"I guess you have got it about right, Mr. Sawyer," said Hiram. "Can you +fight?" he asked of Quincy. + +"I am a good shot with a rifle," Quincy replied. "I can hit the ace of +hearts at one hundred feet with a pistol." + +"I don't mean that," said Hiram. "Can you fight with yer fists?" + +"I don't know much about it," said Quincy with a queer smile. + +"Then I am afraid you will find Bob Wood a pretty tough customer. He can +lick any two fellers in town. Why, he polished off Cobb's twins one day +in less than five minutes, both of 'em." + +"Where does this Bob Wood spend most of his time?" asked Quincy. + +"He loafs around Hill's grocery. When he ain't wokin' at his trade," +said Hiram, "he does odd jobs for the Putnams in summer and cuts some +wood for them in winter. You know Lindy Putnam, the gal you sang with at +the concert?" + +"Come along," said Quincy, "I feel pretty good this morning, we'll walk +down to Hill's and see if that Mr. Wood has anything to say to me." + +"Don't you think the best plan, Mr. Sawyer, would be to keep out of his +way?" queried Hiram. + +"Well, I can't tell that," said Quincy, "until I get better acquainted +with him. After that he may think he'd better keep out of my way." + +"Why, he's twice as big as you," cried Hiram, with a look of +astonishment on his face. + +"Come along, Hiram," said Quincy. "By the way, I haven't seen Miss +Putnam since the concert. I think I will have to call on her." + +Hiram laughed until his face was as red as a beet. + +"By gum, that's good," he said, as he struck both legs with his hands. + +"What's good?" asked Quincy. "Calling on Miss Putnam?" + +"Yes," said Hiram. "Wouldn't she be s'prised?" + +"Why?" asked Quincy. "Such a call wouldn't be considered anything out of +the way in the city." + +"No, nor it wouldn't here," said Hiram, "but for the fact that Miss +Putnam don't encourage callers. She goes round a visitin' herself, and +she treats the other girls fust rate, 'cause she has plenty of money and +can afford it. But she has got two good reasons for not wantin' +visitors." + +"What are they?" asked Quincy. + +"Well, I'm country myself," said Hiram, "and there are others in +Eastborough that are more country than I am. But if you want to see and +hear the genooine old Rubes you want to see old Sy Putnam and his wife +Heppy." + +"But Miss Mason said Miss Putnam was quite wealthy." + +"You bet she is," said Hiram. "She's worth hundreds of millions of +dollars." + +"I think you must mean thousands," remarked Quincy. + +"Well, as far as I'm concerned," said Hiram, "when you talk about +millions or thousands of money, one's just the same to me as t'other. I +never seed so much money in my life as I seed since you've been here, +but I don't want you to think I'm beggin' for more." + +"No," said Quincy, "I should never impute such a motive to you." + +Quincy took a dollar bill from his pocket and held it up before Hiram. + +"What's that?" he asked. + +"That's one hundred cents," said Hiram, "considerably more than I have +got." + +"Well," said Quincy, "if you tell me why Miss Putnam doesn't like +callers I will give you that dollar." + +"Stop a minute," replied Hiram. "Soon as we turn this next corner we'll +be in full sight of the grocery store. You can go ahead and I'll slip +'cross lots and come up from behind the store. If Wood thought I'd told +you he would lick me and I'm no fighter. Now about Miss Putnam," +dropping his voice, "I heard it said, and I guess it's pretty near the +truth, that she is so blamed stuck up and dresses so fine in city +fashions that she is just 'shamed of her old pa and ma and don't want +nobody to see 'em." + +"But," asked Quincy, "where did she get her money?" + +Hiram answered, "From her only brother. He went down to Boston, made a +pile of money, then died and left it all to Lindy. If what I've told +you ain't gospel truth it's mighty near it. Well, I'll see you later, +Mr. Sawyer." + +And Hiram ran down a path that led across the fields. + +Quincy turned the corner and walked briskly towards Hill's grocery +store. A dozen or more young men and as many older ones were lounging +about the platform that ran the whole length of the store, for it was a +very mild day in January, and the snow was rapidly leaving under the +influence of what might be called a January thaw. + +Quincy walked through the crowd, giving a friendly nod to several faces +that looked familiar, but the names of whose owners were unknown to him. +He entered the store, found a letter from his mother and another from +his sister Gertie, and saying "Good morning" to Mr. Hill, who was the +village postmaster, soon reached the platform again. + +As he did so a heavily built young fellow, fully six feet tall and +having a coarse red face, stepped up to him and said brusquely, "I +believe your name's Sawyer." + +"Your belief is well founded," replied Quincy. "I regret that I do not +know your name." + +"Well, you won't have to suffer long before you find out," said the +fellow. "My name's Robert Wood, or Bob Wood for short." + +"Ah! I see," said Quincy. "Robert for long wood and Bob for short wood." + +Wood's face grew redder. + +"I s'pose you think that's mighty smart makin' fun of folks' names. I +guess there ain't much doubt but what you said what a friend of mine +tells me you did." + +Quincy remarked calmly, "Well, what did your friend say I said about +you?" + +By this time the loungers in and outside the store had gathered around +the two talkers. Wood seemed encouraged and braced up by the presence of +so many friends. He walked up close to Quincy and said, "Well, my friend +told me that you said there was but one jackass in Eastborough and he +sang bass in the quartette." + +Quincy paled a little, but replied firmly, "I never said it, and if your +friend says I did he lies and he knows it." + +At this juncture, as if prearranged, Obadiah Strout suddenly emerged +from the grocery store. + +"What's the matter, gentlemen?" asked Mr. Strout. + +"Well," said Wood, "I told this young man what you said he said, and he +says you're a liar." + +"Well," said Strout pompously, "I know that he said it and I have +witnesses to prove it. When you settle with him for calling you a +jackass I'll settle with him for calling me a liar." + +"Take your coat off, Mr. Sawyer, and get ready. I won't keep you waitin' +but a few moments," said Bob. + +A jeering laugh went up from the crowd. Quincy, turning, saw Hiram. + +"Here, Hiram," said he, "hold my things." + +He took off his overcoat and then his black Prince Albert coat and +passed them to Hiram. Then he removed his hat, which he also handed to +Hiram. + +Turning to Wood he said, "Come right out here, Mr. Wood; here is a place +where the sun has kindly removed the snow and we can get a good +footing." + +Wood followed him, and the crowd formed a ring about them. + +"Now, Mr. Wood, or perhaps I should say Bob Wood for short, put up your +hands." + +Bob put them up in defiance of all rules governing boxing. This was +enough for Quincy; he had sized up his man and determined to make the +most of his opportunity. + +"Mr. Wood," he said politely, "before I hit you I am going to tell you +just exactly where I am going to strike, so you can't blame me for +anything that may happen. I shall commence on your right eye." + +Wood's face grew livid; he made a rush at Quincy as though he would fall +on him and crush him. Quincy easily eluded him, and when Wood made his +second rush at him he parried a right-hander, and before Wood could +recover, he struck him a square blow full on his right eye. They faced +each other again. + +"Now, Mr. Wood," said Quincy, "I see you have a watch in your vest +pocket. Is it an open-faced watch?" + +"S'posin' you find out," said Wood, glaring at Quincy with his left eye, +his right one being closed up. + +"Well, then," remarked Quincy, "you will be obliged to have it repaired, +for I am going to hit you just where that watch is and it may injure +it." + +Wood was more wary this time and Quincy was more scientific. He gave +Wood a left-hander in the region of the heart which staggered him. + +They faced each other for the third time. + +"I regret the necessity this time, but I will be obliged to strike you +full in the face and in my excitement may hit your nose." + +It required all of Quincy's dexterity to avoid the wild rushes and +savage thrusts made by Wood. But Quincy understood every one of the +boxer's secrets and was as light and agile on his feet as a cat. It was +three minutes at least before Quincy got the desired opening, and then +he landed a blow on Wood's nose that sent him flat upon his back. + +[Illustration: "AND THEN HE LANDED A BLOW ON WOOD'S NOSE"] + +"That's enough," cried the crowd, and several friends led Wood to a seat +on the platform. + +Quincy turned to Strout. "Now, Mr. Strout, I am at your service." + +"No, sir," said Strout, "I am willing to fight a gentleman, but I don't +fight with no professional prize fighter like you." Turning to the +crowd: "I know all about this fellow. He is no lawyer at all, he is a +regular prize fighter, and down in Boston he is known by the name of +Billy Shanks." + +Quincy smiled. Turning to the crowd he said, "The statement just made by +Mr. Strout is like his statement to Mr. Wood. The first was a lie, the +second is a lie, and the man who uttered them is a liar. Good morning, +gentlemen." + +Quincy went to Hiram, who helped him on with his coats. They walked +along together. After they turned the corner and got out of sight of the +grocery store, Hiram said: + +"Geewhilikins! What a smasher you gave him. I thought you said you +didn't know nothin' about fightin'." + +"I don't know much," responded Quincy. "There are a dozen men in Boston +who could do to me just exactly what I did to Bob Wood." + + + + +CHAPTER IX. + +MR. SAWYER CALLS ON MISS PUTNAM. + + +Quincy had a double purpose in calling on Lindy; he actually wished to +see her, for they had not met since the concert, but his principal wish +was to meet a real old-fashioned country couple. To be sure, Deacon +Mason and his wife often dropped into the vernacular, but the Deacon was +a very dignified old gentleman and his wife was not a great talker. What +he desired was to find one of the old-fashioned style of country women, +with a tongue hung in the middle and running at both ends. His wish was +to be gratified. + +When he clanged the old brass knocker on the door, Samanthy Green +answered the call. + +"Is Miss Putnam at home?" asked Quincy politely. + +"No, she ain't," said Samanthy, "but Mr. and Mrs. Putnam is. They're +allus to hum. They don't go nowheres from one year's end to t'other." + +"I would like to see them," said Quincy. + +"Yes, sir," said Samanthy, "walk right in." + +She threw open the door of the sitting-room. "Here's a gentleman that +wants to see you, Mas' Putnam. Leastwise he asked for Lindy fust." + +Samanthy left the room, slamming the door after her. + +"My name is Sawyer," said Quincy, addressing the old lady and gentleman +who were seated in rocking chairs. "I met your daughter at the concert +given at the Town Hall New-Year's night." + +Mrs. Putnam said, "Glad to see ye, Mr. Sawyer; have a chair." + +As Quincy laid his hand upon the chair, the old gentleman called out in +a voice that would have startled a bull of Bashan, "What's his name, +Heppy?" + +Mrs. Putnam answered in a shrill voice with an edge like a knife, +"Sawyer." + +"Sawyer!" yelled the man. "Any relation to Jim Sawyer that got drunk, +beat his wife, starved his children, and finally ended up in the town +Poorhouse?" + +Quincy shook his head and replied, "I think not. I don't live here; I +live in Boston." + +"Du tell," said Mrs. Putnam. "How long you been here?" + +Quincy replied that he arrived two days after Christmas. + +"Where be you stoppin'?" asked Mrs. Putnam. + +Quincy answered, "I am boarding at Deacon Mason's." + +"He's a nice old gentleman," said Mrs. Putnam, "and Mrs. Mason's good as +they make 'em. Her daughter Huldy's a pert young thing, she's pretty and +she knows it." + +Quincy remarked that he thought Miss Mason was a very nice young lady. + +"Oh, yes," said Mrs. Putnam, "you young fellers never look more than +skin deep. Now the way she trifles with that young 'Zekiel Pettengill I +think's shameful. They ust to have a spat every week about something but +they allus made it up. But I heard Lindy say that after you come here, +'Zeke he got huffy and Huldy she got independent, and they hain't spoke +to each other nigh on two weeks." + +This was a revelation to Quincy, but he was to hear more about it very +soon. + +"How long be you goin' to stay, Mr. Sawyer?" + +"I haven't decided," said Quincy. + +"What's your business?" persisted Mrs. Putnam. + +"I am a lawyer," replied Quincy. + +Mrs. Putnam looked at him inquiringly and said, "Be n't you rather young +for a lawyer? How old be you, anyway?" + +Quincy decided to take a good humored part in his cross examination and +said without a smile, "I am twenty-three years, two months, sixteen days +old." + +"Be you?" exclaimed Mrs. Putnam. "I shouldn't have said you were a day +over nineteen." + +Quincy never felt his youth so keenly before. He determined to change +the conversation. + +"Did you attend the concert, Mrs. Putnam?" + +"No," said she. "Pa and me don't go out much; he's deefer'n a stone post +and I've had the rheumatiz so bad in my knees for the last five years +that I can't walk without crutches;" and she pointed to a pair that lay +on the floor beside her chair. + +During this conversation old Mr. Putnam had been eying Quincy very +keenly. He blurted out, "He's a chip of the old block, Heppy; he looks +just as Jim did when he fust came to this town. Did yer say yer had an +Uncle Jim?" + +Quincy shook his head. + +Mrs. Putnam turned to her husband and yelled, "Now you shet up, Silas, +and don't bother the young man. Jim Sawyer ain't nothin' to be proud of, +and I don't blame the young man for not ownin' up even if Jim is his +uncle." + +Quincy made another attempt to change the conversation. "Your daughter +is a very fine singer, Mrs. Putnam." + +"Well, I s'pose so," said she; "there's been enough money spent on her +to make suthin' of her. As for me I don't like this folderol singin'. +Why, when she ust to be practisin' I had to go up in the attic or else +stuff cotton in my ears. But my son, Jehoiakim Jones Putnam, he sot +everythin' by Lucinda, and there wasn't anythin' she wanted that she +couldn't have. He's dead now, but he left more'n a hundred thousand +dollars, that he made speculatin'." + +"Then your daughter will be quite an heiress one of these days, Mrs. +Putnam?" + +She answered, "She won't get none of my money. Jehoiakim left her all of +his'n, but before she got it she had to sign a paper, a wafer, I believe +they call it, if you're a lawyer you ought to know what it was, givin' +up all claim on my money. I made my will and the girl who'll get it +needs it and will make good use of it." + +Quincy determined to get even with Mrs. Putnam for the questioning she +put him through, so he said, "Did you make your money speculating, Mrs. +Putnam?" + +"No," said she, "pa made it by hard work on the farm; but he gave it all +to me more'n fifteen year ago, and he hasn't got a cent to his name. +He's just as bad off as Jim Sawyer. I feed him and clothe him and shall +have to bury him. I guess it seems kinder odd to ye, so I reckon I'll +have to tell ye the hull story. I've told it a dozen times, but I guess +it'll bear tellin' once more. You see my husband here, Silas Putnam, was +brought up religis and he's allus been a churchgoin' man. We were both +Methodists, and everythin' went all right till one day a Second Advent +preacher came along, and then things went all wrong. He canoodled my +husband into believin' that the end of the world was comin' and it was +his duty to give all his property away, so he could stand clean handed +afore the Lord. My dander riz when I heerd them makin' their plans, but +afore my husband got deef he was great on argifyin' and argumentin', and +I didn't stand much show against two on 'em; but when Silas told me he +was goin' to give his property away I sot up my Ebenezer, and I says, +'Silas Putnam, if you gives your property to any one you gives it to +me.' So after a long tussle it was settled that way and the lawyers drew +up the papers. The night afore the world was goin' to end he prayed all +night. You can imagine with that air voice of his'n I didn't sleep a +wink. When mornin' came--it was late in October and the air was pretty +sharp--Silas stopped prayin' and put on his white robe, which was a +shirt of hisn't I pieced out so it came down to his feet, and takin' a +tin trumpet that he bought over to Eastborough Centre, he went out, +climbed up on the barn, sot down on the ridgepole and waited for Kingdom +Come. He sot there and tooted all mornin' and 'spected the angel Gabriel +would answer back. He sot there and tooted all the arternoon till the +cows come home and the chickens went to roost. I had three good square +meals that day, but Silas didn't get a bite. 'Bout six o'clock I did +think of takin' him out some doughnuts, but then I decided if he was +goin' up so soon it was no use a wastin' em, so I put 'em back in the +pantry. He sot there and tooted all the evenin' till the moon come up +and the stars were all out, and then he slid down off'n the barn, and +barked both his shins doin' it, threw his trumpet into the pig pen, come +into the house and huddled up close to the fire. He didn't say nothin' +for a spell, but finally says he, 'I guess, Heppy, that feller made a +mistake in figurin' out the date.' 'I guess, Silas,' says I, 'that +you've made an all-fired fool of yerself. And if you don't go to bed +quick and take a rum sweat, I shall be a widder in a very short time,' +He was sick for more'n three weeks, but I pulled him through by good +nussin', and the fust day he was able to set up, I says to him, 'Now, +Silas Putnam, when I married ye forty-five year ago I promised to obey +ye, ye was allus a good perwider and I don't perpose to see yer want for +nothin', but ye have got to hold up yer right hand and swear to obey me +for the rest of yer nateral life,' and he did it. He got well, and he is +tougher'n a biled owl, if he is eighty-six. But the cold sorter settled +in his ears, and he's deef as an adder. Ef angel Gabriel blew his horn +now I'm afeared Silas wouldn't hear him." + +During this long story Quincy had listened without a smile on his face, +but the manner in which the last remark was made was too much for him +and he burst into a loud laugh. Silas, who had been eying him, also gave +a loud laugh and said with his ponderous voice, "I guess Heppy's been +tellin' ye about my goin' up." + +Quincy laughed again and Mrs. Putnam took part. He arose, told Mr. and +Mrs. Putnam he had enjoyed his visit very much, was very sorry Miss +Putnam was not at home, and said he would call again, with their kind +permission. + +"Oh, drop in any time," said Mrs. Putnam; "we're allus to hum. You seem +to be a nice young man, but you're too young to marry. Why, Lindy's +twenty-eight, and I tell her she don't know enough to get married yet. +Ef you'll take a bit of advice from an old woman, let me say, 'less you +mean to marry the girl yourself, you'd better git away from Deacon +Mason's." + +And with this parting shot ringing in his ears, he left the house and +made his way homeward. + +In half an hour after Quincy's departure, Lindy Putnam entered the +sitting-room and facing her mother said with a voice full of passion, +"Samanthy says Mr. Sawyer called to see me." + +Mrs. Putnam answered, "Well, ef ye wanted to see him so much why didn't +ye stay to hum?" + +Lindy continued, "Well, I have told you a dozen times that when people +come to see me that you are not to invite them in." + +"Wall, I didn't," said Mrs. Putnam. "When he found you wuz out he said +he wanted to see pa and me, and he stayed here more'n an hour." + +"Yes," said Lindy, "no doubt you told him all about pa's turning Second +Advent and how much money I had, and you have killed all my chances." + +"Well, I guess not," said Mrs. Putnam. "I told him about your brother +leavin' yer all his money, and I guess that won't drive him away." + +Lindy continued, "Money don't count with him; they say his father is +worth more than a million dollars." + +Mrs. Putnam answered, "Wall, I s'pose there's a dozen or so to divide it +among." + +Lindy said, "Did you tell him who you were going to leave your money +to?" + +"No, I didn't," replied Mrs. Putnam. "But I did tell him that you +wouldn't get a cent of it." + +Lindy sobbed, "I think it is a shame, mother. I like him better than any +young man I have ever met, and now after what you have told me I sha'n't +see him again. I have a good mind to leave you for good and all and go +to Boston to live." + +"Wall, you're your own mistress," replied Mrs. Putnam, "and I'm my own +mistress and pa's. Come to think on't, there was one thing I said to him +that might sot him against yer." + +"What was that?" demanded Lindy fiercely. + +"Wall," said Mrs. Putnam, "he said he was twenty-three, and I sort a +told him incidentally you was twenty-eight. You know yer thirty, and +p'raps he might object to ye on account of yer age." + +This was too much for Lindy. She rushed out of the room and up to her +chamber, where she threw herself on her bed in a passion of tears. + +"It's too bad," she cried. "I will see him again, I will find some way, +and I'll win him yet, even if I am twenty-eight." + +Two days afterwards Hiram told Mandy that he heard down to Hill's +grocery that that city chap had two strings to his bow now. He was +courting the Deacon's daughter, but had been up to see Mr. and Mrs. +Putnam to find out how much money Lindy had in her own right, and to see +if there was any prospect of getting anything out of the old folks. + + + + +CHAPTER X. + +VILLAGE GOSSIP. + + +After supper on the day he had been visiting Mr. and Mrs. Putnam, Quincy +went to his room and wrote a long letter to his father, inquiring if he +ever had an uncle by the name of James Sawyer. Before retiring he sat +and thought over the experiences of the past fortnight since his arrival +in Eastborough, but the most of his thoughts were given to the remark +made by Mrs. Putnam about his leaving Deacon Mason's. He had been +uniformly polite and to a slight degree attentive to Miss Mason. The +Deacon's horse was a slow one, and so on several occasions he had hired +a presentable rig and a good stepper over to Eastborough Centre, and had +taken Miss Mason out to ride. He reflected now, as he had never done +before, that of course the whole town knew this, and the thought came +home to him strongly that by so doing he might have inflicted a triple +injury upon Miss Mason, Mr. Pettingill, and himself. He was not in love +with Miss Mason, nor Miss Putnam; they were both pretty girls, and in +the city it was the custom to be attentive to pretty girls without +regard to consequences. + +He had asked Miss Mason to go riding with him the next day, but he +inwardly resolved that it would be the last time he would take her, and +he was in doubt whether to go back to the city at once or go to some +other town and board at a hotel, or look around and find some other +place in Eastborough. One consideration kept him from leaving +Eastborough; he knew that if he did so the singing-master would claim +that he had driven him out of town, and although he had a hearty +contempt for the man, he was too high spirited to leave town and give +the people any reason to think that Strout's antipathy to him had +anything to do with it. + +Finally a bright idea struck him. Why hadn't he thought of it before? He +would go and see Uncle Ike, state the case frankly and ask him to let +him live with him for a month. He could bunk in the kitchen, and he +preferred Uncle Ike's conversation to that of any other of the male sex +whom he had met in Eastborough. With this idea firmly fixed in his mind +he retired and slept peacefully. + +While Quincy was debating with himself and coming to the conclusion +previously mentioned, another conversation, in which his name often +occurred, took place in Deacon Mason's kitchen. + +The old couple were seated by the old-fashioned fireplace, in which a +wood fire was burning. The stove had superseded the hanging crane and +the tin oven for cooking purposes, but Deacon Mason clung to the +old-fashioned fireplace for heat and light. The moon was high and its +rays streamed in through the windows, the curtains of which had not been +drawn. + +For quite a while they sat in silence, then Deacon Mason said, "There is +something I want to speak about, mother, and yet I don't want to. I know +there is nothing to it and nothing likely to come of it, but the fact +is, mother, Huldy's bein' talked about down to the Corner, 'cause Mr. +Sawyer is boardin' here. You know she goes out ridin' with him, which +ain't no harm, and she has a sort o' broken with 'Zekiel, for which I am +sorry, for 'Zekiel is one of the likely young men of the town." + +"So I do, father," said Mrs. Mason, "and if you don't meddle, things +will come out all right. Mr. Sawyer don't care nothing for Huldy, and I +don't think she cares anything for him. He will be going back to the +city in a little while and then things will be all right again." + +"Well," said the Deacon, "I think Huldy better stop goin' out to ride +with him anyway; she is high spirited, and if I tell her not to go +she'll want to know why." + +"But," broke in Mrs. Mason, "ef you tell him won't he want to know why?" + +"Well, perhaps," said the Deacon, "but I will speak to him anyway." + +The next morning after breakfast Deacon Mason asked Mr. Sawyer to step +into the parlor, and remarking that when he had anything to say he +always said it right out, he asked Quincy if he was on good terms with +Mr. 'Zekiel Pettengill. + +"I don't know," said Quincy. "I don't know of anything that I have done +at which he could take offence, but he keeps away from me, and when I do +meet him and speak to him, a 'yes' or 'no' is all I get in reply." + +"Haven't you any idea what makes him treat you so?" asked the Deacon. + +Quincy flushed. + +"Yes, Mr. Mason, I think I do know, but it never entered my mind until +late yesterday afternoon, and then it was called to my attention by a +stranger. I am glad I have this chance to speak to you, Mr. Mason, for +while I have had a very enjoyable time here, I have decided to find +another boarding place, and I shall leave just as soon as I make the +necessary arrangements." + +The Deacon was a little crestfallen at having the business taken out of +his hands so quickly, and saying he was very sorry to have the young man +go, he sought his wife and told her everything was fixed up and that Mr. +Sawyer was going away. + +Quincy started to leave the house by the front door; in the hallway he +met Huldy, who had just come down stairs. He had asked her to go to ride +with him that day, and as he looked at her pretty face he vowed to +himself that he would not be deprived of that pleasure. It could do no +harm, for it would be their last ride together and probably their last +meeting. + +He said, "Good morning, Miss Mason," and then added with that tone which +the society belle considers a matter of course, but which is so pleasing +to the village maiden, "You look charming this morning, Miss Mason. I +don't think our ride to-day could make your cheeks any redder than they +are now." Huldy blushed, making her cheeks a still deeper crimson. "I +will be here at one o'clock with the team," said Quincy. "Will you be +ready?" + +"Yes," answered Huldy softly. + +Quincy raised his hat, and a moment later he was on his way to +Eastborough Centre. + +He walked briskly and thought he would stop at Uncle Ike's and carry out +the resolution he had made the night before, but as he turned up the +path that led to the house he saw a man standing on the steps talking to +Uncle Ike, who stood in the doorway. The young man was Ezekiel +Pettengill. Shakespeare says, + + "'Tis conscience that makes cowards of us all," + +and although Quincy at heart was a gentleman, he also knew it was not +quite right for him to take Miss Mason out riding again under the +circumstances; but young men are often stubborn and Quincy felt a little +stiff-necked and rebellious that morning. + +He reached Eastborough Centre, mailed his father the letter relating to +Jim Sawyer, and going to the stable, picked out the best rig it could +supply. He always had the same horse. It was somewhat small in size, but +a very plump, white mare; she was a good roadster and it was never +necessary to touch her with the whip. Shake it in the stock and she +would not forget it for the next two miles. The stable keeper told with +much unction how two fellows hired her to go from Eastborough Centre to +Montrose. On their way home they had drunk quite freely at the latter +place, and thought they would touch the mare up with the whip; they were +in an open team and the result was that she left them at different +points along the road and reached home with no further impediment to her +career than the shafts and the front wheels. + +Instead of coming back by the main road which led by Uncle Ike's, Quincy +went through by what was called The Willows, which increased the +distance a couple of miles. Nevertheless, it lacked five minutes of one +o'clock when he drove up to Deacon Mason's front door. + +Huldy was all dressed for the occasion, and with a "Good-by, mother," to +Mrs. Mason, who was in the kitchen, was out the front door, helped into +the team, and they were off just as the startled matron reached the +parlor window. Mrs. Mason returned to the kitchen and at that moment the +Deacon came in from the barn. + +"What's the matter, mother?" asked the Deacon, noticing her excited and +somewhat troubled look. + +"Huldy is gone out riding again with Mr. Sawyer," said she. + +The Deacon was a good Christian man and didn't swear, but he was +evidently thinking deeply. Finally he said, "Well, mother, we must make +the best of it. I'll help him find a boarding place if he don't get one +by to-morrow." + +They had a splendid drive. The air was cool, but not biting, the sun was +warm, the roads had dried up since the recent thaw, which had removed +the snow, with the exception of some patches in the fields, and the +high-topped buggy rolled smoothly over the ground. + +They passed through the little square in front of Hill's grocery, and as +luck would have it, Professor Strout was standing on the platform +smoking a cigar. Huldy smiled and nodded to him, and Quincy, with true +politeness, followed a city custom and raised his hat, but the Professor +did not return the bow, nor the salute, but turning on his heel walked +into the grocery store. + +"Professor Strout is not very polite, is he, Mr. Sawyer?" asked Huldy, +laughing. + +Quincy replied, looking straight ahead, "He has never learned the first +letter in the alphabet of the art." + +Quincy had a disagreeable duty to perform. He enjoyed Miss Huldy's +company, but she was not the sort of girl he could love enough to make +his wife. Then the thought came to him, supposing she should fall in +love with him; that was not impossible, and it must be prevented. + +When they were about half a mile from Mason's Corner, on their way home, +Quincy realized that he could not put the matter off any longer. + +Just as he was going to speak to her she turned to him and said, "Let me +drive the rest of the way home, Mr. Sawyer." + +"Oh, no," replied Quincy, "I think I had better keep the reins. You know +I am responsible for you until you are safe at home." + +Huldy pouted. "You think I can't drive," said she, "I have driven horses +all my life. Please let me, Mr. Sawyer," she added coaxingly. And she +took the reins from his hands. + +"Well," said Quincy, "you are now responsible for me and I shall expect +you to be very careful." + +They drove a short distance in silence; then Quincy turned to her and +said abruptly, "This is our last ride together, Miss Mason." + +"Why?" inquired she with an astonished look in her face. + +"I am going to leave your very pleasant home to-morrow," said Quincy. + +The girl's cheeks paled perceptibly. + +"Are you going back to Boston?" she asked. + +"No, not for some time," Quincy replied, "but I have had some advice +given me and I think it best to follow it." + +"You have been advised to leave my father's house," said she, holding +the reins listlessly in her hand. + +Quincy said, "You won't be offended if I tell you the whole truth?" + +"No; why should I?" asked Huldy. + +As she said this she gathered up the reins and gave them a sharp pull. +The white mare understood this to be a signal to do some good travelling +and she started off at a brisk trot. + +Quincy said, "I was told yesterday by a friend that if I was not a +marrying man they would advise me to leave Deacon Mason's house at +once." + +The blood shot into Huldy's face at once. He was not a marrying man and +consequently he was going to leave. He did not care for her or he would +stay. Then another thought struck her. Perhaps he was going away because +he was afraid she would fall in love with him. + +As the Deacon had said, she was high spirited, and for an instant she +was filled with indignation. She shut her eyes, and her heart seemed to +stop its beating. She heard Quincy's voice, "Look out for the curve, +Miss Mason." She dropped the left rein and mechanically gave the right +one a strong, sharp pull with both hands. Quincy grasped the reins, but +it was too late. + +Huldy's pull on the right rein had thrown the horse almost at right +angles to the buggy. The steep hill and sharp curve in the road did the +rest. The buggy stood for an instant on two wheels, then fell on its +side with a crash, taking the horse off her feet at the same time. + +Huldy pitched forward as the buggy was falling, striking her left arm +upon the wheel, and then fell into the road. Quincy gave a quick leap +over the dasher, falling on the prostrate horse, and grasping her by the +head, pressed it to the ground. The mare lay motionless. Quincy rushed +to Miss Mason and lifted her to her feet, but found her a dead weight in +his arms. He looked in her face. She had evidently fainted. Her left arm +hung by her side in a helpless sort of way; he touched it lightly +between the elbow and shoulder. It was broken. Grasping her in his arms +he ran to the back door and burst into the kitchen where Mrs. Mason was +at work. + +Quincy said in quick, excited tones, "There has been an accident, Mrs. +Mason, and your daughter's arm is broken; she has also fainted. I will +take her right to her room and put her on her bed. You can bring her out +of that." Suiting the action to the word, he took Huldy upstairs, +saying, "I will go for the doctor at once." + +Then he dashed down the stairs and out of the front door; as he reached +the team he found Hiram standing beside it, his eyes wide open with +astonishment. + +"Had a smash-up, Mr. Sawyer?" he asked. "How did it happen?" + +"All my carelessness," said Quincy. "Come, give me a lift on the buggy, +quick." + +How it was done Quincy could never tell afterwards, but in a very short +time the buggy was righted, the mare on her feet and the harness +adjusted. Hiram took off his cap and began dusting the mare, whose white +coat showed the dust very plainly. + +"Where does the nearest doctor live, Hiram?" asked Quincy. + +"Second house up the road you just come down," said Hiram. "The folks +say he don't know much, anyway." + +"Well, you get him here as quick as possible," said Quincy. "I am going +to Eastborough Centre to telegraph for a surgeon and a trained nurse. +Can you remember that?" + +Quincy passed him a dollar bill. + +Hiram winked and said, "I guess I can," and darted off up the hill. + +Quincy sprang into the team and the white mare dashed forward at full +speed. As he reached the Pettengill house he saw Ezekiel standing at the +front gate. With difficulty he pulled the mare up, for she was greatly +excited. + +"Mr. Pettengill," said he, "there has been a serious accident. Miss +Mason has been thrown from her carriage and her left arm is broken. I +sent Hiram for a doctor and I am on my way to Eastborough to telegraph +to Boston for a surgeon and a nurse. I shall not return to-night. Go up +to the Deacon's and stay with her." + +As he said this the mare gave a bound forward and she never slackened +pace until Eastborough Centre was reached. + +Quincy sent his telegram and returned the injured buggy and the horse to +the stable keeper, telling him to have it repaired and he would pay the +bill. He arranged to have a driver and a four-seated team ready on the +arrival of the train bearing the doctor and the nurse. In about an hour +he received a telegram that they would leave on the 6.05 express and +would reach Eastborough Centre at 7.15. + +They arrived, and the hired driver, doctor, and nurse started for +Mason's Corner. + +The last train to Boston left at 9.20. Ten minutes before that hour the +team returned with the doctor. + +"She is all right," he said. "Everything has been done for her, and the +other doctor will write me when my services are needed again. Good +night." + +The train dashed in and the doctor sped back to Boston. + +Quincy had engaged a room at the hotel, and he at once retired to it, +but not to sleep. He passed the most uncomfortable night that had ever +come to him. + +The next afternoon Hiram told Mandy that he heard Professor Strout say +to Robert Wood that he guessed that "accident would never have occurred +if that city chap hadn't been trying to drive hoss with one hand." + +Mandy said, "That Strout is a mean old thing, anyway, and if you tell me +another thing that he says, I'll fill your mouth full o' soft soap, or +my name isn't Mandy Skinner." + + + + +CHAPTER XI. + +SOME SAD TIDINGS. + + +The morning of the accident, when Quincy saw Ezekiel Pettengill standing +on the steps of Uncle Ike's house, Ezekiel was the bearer of some sad +tidings. + +He recognized Quincy as the latter started to come up the path, and saw +him retrace his steps, and naturally thought, as most men would, that +the reason Quincy did not come in was because he did not wish to meet +him. + +"Who was you looking after?" asked Uncle Ike, as Ezekiel entered the +room and closed the door. + +"I think it was Mr. Sawyer," replied Ezekiel, "on his way to Eastborough +Centre." + +"That Mr. Sawyer," said Uncle Ike, "is a very level-headed young man. He +called on me once and I like him very much. Do you know him, 'Zeke?" + +"Yes, I know who he is," Ezekiel answered, "but I have never been +introduced to him. He nods and I nod, or I say, 'good mornin',' and he +says, 'good mornin'.'" + +"Don't you go up to Deacon Mason's as much as you used to, 'Zeke?" asked +Uncle Ike. "I thought Huldy and you were going to make a match of it." + +Ezekiel replied, "Well, to be honest, Uncle Ike, Huldy and me had a +little tiff, and I haven't seen her to speak to her for more than three +weeks, but I guess it will all come out all right some day." + +"Well, you're on the right track, 'Zeke," said Uncle Ike. "Do all your +fighting before you get married. But what brings you down here so early +in the morning?" + +"I've got some bad news," replied Ezekiel. "Have you heard from Alice +lately?" + +"No," said Uncle Ike, "and I can't understand it. She has always written +to me once a fortnight, and it's a month now since I heard from her, and +she has sent me a book every Christmas until this last one." + +"She has been very sick, Uncle Ike," said Ezekiel. "She was taken down +about the middle of December and was under the doctor's care for three +weeks." + +"Is she better?" asked Uncle Ike eagerly. + +"Yes, she is up again," said Ezekiel, "but she is very weak; but that +ain't the worst of it," he added. + +"Why, what's the matter?" asked Uncle Ike. "Why didn't her friends let +us know?" + +"She wouldn't let them," said Ezekiel. "If it hadn't been for what the +eye doctor told her she wouldn't have telegraphed to me what she did." + +"Well, what's the matter with her?" cried Uncle Ike almost fiercely. + +"Well, Uncle Ike," said Ezekiel, and the tears stood in his eyes as he +said it, "our Allie is almost blind, but the eye doctor says she will +get better, but it will take a very long time. She has had to give up +her job, and I am going to Boston again to-morrow to bring her home to +the old house." + +"What's the matter with her eyes?" asked Uncle Ike. + +"He called them cataracts," said Ezekiel, "or something like that." + +Uncle Ike sat down in his armchair and thought for a minute or two. + +"Yes," he said, "I know what they are; I have read all about them, and I +know people who have had them. One was a schoolmate of mine. He was a +mighty smart fellow and I felt sorry for him and used to help him out in +his studies. I heard he had his eyes operated on and recovered his +sight." + +"Well, the doctor she has," said Ezekiel, "is agin operations. He says +they can be cured without them. She drops something in her eyes and +blows something in them, and then the tears come, and then she sits +quietly with her hands folded, thinking, I suppose, till the time comes +to use the medicine again." + +"What can I do to help you?" asked Uncle Ike. "You know I always loved +Alice even better than I did my own children, because she is more +lovable, I suppose. Now, 'Zeke, if you want any money for doctor's bills +or anything else, I am ready to do everything in the world I can for +Alice. Did she ask after me, 'Zeke?" + +"Almost the first thing she said was, 'How is dear old Uncle Ike?' and +then she said how glad she would be to get back to Eastborough, where +she could have you to talk to. 'I am lonesome now,' she said, 'I cannot +write nor read, and the time passes so slowly with no one to talk to.'" + +"But the poor dear girl can't walk down here to see me," said Uncle Ike. + +"That's just what I came to see you about," said Ezekiel. "The greatest +favor you can do Alice and me is to come up to the old house and live +with us for a while and be company for Alice. You can have the big front +room that father and mother used to have, and Alice's room, you know, is +just side of that. In a little while I shall have to be busy on the farm +and poor Alice--" + +"Don't talk any more about it, 'Zeke," said Uncle Ike. "Of course I'll +come. She will do me as much good as I'll do her. Send down the boys +with the team to-morrow noon and I'll be all settled by the time you get +back." + +"I'll do it," said Ezekiel. "It is very good of you. Uncle Ike, to give +up your little home here that you like so much and come to live with us. +I know you wouldn't do it for anybody but Alice, and I'll leave her to +thank you when she gets down here." + +Uncle Ike and Ezekiel shook hands warmly. + +"Don't you need any money, 'Zeke?" asked Uncle Ike. + +"No," replied Ezekiel. "Alice wouldn't let me pay out a cent; she had +some money saved up in the bank and she insisted on paying for +everything herself. She wouldn't come home till I promised 'her I'd let +her pay her board when she got able to work again." + +"She always was independent," said Uncle Ike, "and that was one reason +why I liked her. But more than that, she is the fairest-minded and +best-tempered woman I ever met in my life, and I have seen a good many." + +Ezekiel shook hands again with Uncle Ike, and then started off briskly +with a much lighter heart than he had before the interview. Reaching +home he astonished Mandy Skinner by telling her that he was going to +bring his sister down from Boston and that Uncle Ike was coming to live +with them for a while. + +"My Lord!" cried Mandy, "and do you expect me to do all this extra +work?" + +"I don't expect nothing," said Ezekiel. "You can get old Mrs. Crowley to +come and do the heavy work, and I guess you can get along. You allus +said you liked her, she was such a nice washer and ironer. She can have +the little room over the ell, and I'll give you a dollar a week extra +for your trouble. Do you think you can get along, Mandy?" + +Mandy answered, "I know I can with your sister all right, but if your +Uncle Ike comes out here in the kitchen and tells me how to roast meat +and make pies, as he did once, there will be trouble, and he may have to +do all the cooking." + +Ezekiel smiled, but said nothing, and went off upstairs to look at the +two rooms that were to be occupied by Uncle Ike and poor Allie. + + + + +CHAPTER XII. + +LOOKING FOR A BOARDING PLACE. + + +When Quincy awoke in his room at the hotel on the morning after the +accident he found to his great surprise that it was nine o'clock. He +arose and dressed quickly, and after a light breakfast started off +towards Uncle Ike's. Reaching the house he was astonished at the sight +that met his gaze. Everything was out of place. The bed was down and the +bedding tied up in bundles; the books had been taken from the bookcase +and had been piled up on the table. There was no fire in the stove, and +the funnel was laid upon the top of it. Quincy had remembered that he +had seen a pile of soot on the ground near the steps as he came up them. +All of Uncle Ike's cooking utensils were packed in a soap box which +stood near the stove. + +"What's the matter, Mr. Pettengill, are you going to move?" asked +Quincy. + +"For a time at least," replied Uncle Ike. "'Zeke Pettengill's sister has +been struck blind and he is going to bring her down home this afternoon +and I am going to live with them and be company for her. I always +thought as much of Alice as if she was my own daughter, and now she is +in trouble, her old uncle isn't going back on her. It isn't Ike +Pettengill's way." + +"Have you seen 'Zekiel Pettengill this morning?" asked Quincy. + +"No, nor I didn't expect to," replied Uncle Ike. "I suppose he went to +Boston on the nine o'clock train and will be back on the three o'clock +express." + +"Mr. Pettengill," said Quincy, "can you give me fifteen minutes' time +for a talk?" + +"Well," said Uncle Ike, looking at his watch, "it will be half an hour +before Cobb's twins will be down here with the team, and I might as well +listen to you as sit around and do nothing. They are coming down again +by and by to get the chickens. I have a good mind to set the house on +fire and burn it up. If I don't, I suppose some tramp will, and if I +need another house like it, thank the Lord I've got money enough to +build it." + +"No, don't burn it up, Mr. Pettengill," said Quincy. "Let it to me. I am +around looking for a boarding place myself." + +"Why, what's the matter, what made you leave Deacon Mason's?" + +"That's what I want to tell you," said Quincy. "Time is limited and I'll +make my story short, but you are a friend of my father's, and I want you +to understand the whole business." + +"Why, what have you been up to?" asked Uncle Ike, opening his eyes. + +"Nothing," said Quincy, "and that's the trouble. When I went to Deacon +Mason's nobody told me that his daughter was engaged to Ezekiel +Pettengill." + +"And she isn't," interjected Uncle Ike. + +"Well," said Quincy, "they have been keeping company together, but I +didn't know it. Miss Mason is a pretty girl and a very pleasant one. +Time hung heavily on my hands and I naturally paid her some attentions; +gave her flowers and candy, and took her out to ride, but I never +thought of falling in love with her, and I am not conceited enough to +think she is in love with me." + +"Well, I don't know," said Uncle Ike reflectively. "Perhaps she has +heard your father was worth a million dollars." + +"No, I don't believe that," said Quincy. "Miss Mason is too true and +honest a girl to marry a man simply for his money." + +"Well, I think you are right there," remarked Uncle Ike. + +"New Year's night," said Quincy, "at the concert in the Town Hall, +Strout, the singing teacher, got down on me because Miss Putnam and I +received so much applause for singing a duet together. Then I broke his +heart by whistling a tune for the girls and boys, and then again he +doesn't like me because I am from the city! he hired a fellow to whip +me, but the fellow didn't know how to box and I knocked him out very +quickly. Now that Strout can't hurt me any other way he has gone to work +making up lies, and the village is full of gossip about Miss Mason and +me. Deacon Mason was going to talk to me about it, but I told him +yesterday morning that I was going to get another boarding place, and I +should have done so yesterday but for a very unfortunate accident." + +"Accident?" said Uncle Ike; "why, you seem to be all right." + +"I wish I had been the victim," said Quincy, "instead of Miss Mason. I +took her out riding yesterday and the buggy got tipped over right in +front of Deacon Mason's house, and Miss Mason had her left arm broken +above the elbow. I have done all I could to atone for my carelessness, +but I am afraid 'Zeke Pettengill will never forgive me. I wish, Mr. +Pettengill, you would make him understand my position in the matter. I +would like to be good friends with him, for I have nothing against him. +He is the most gentlemanly young man that I have seen in the town. I +value his good opinion and I want him to understand that I haven't +intentionally done anything to wrong or injure him." + +Uncle Ike covered his eyes with his hands and mused for a few minutes; +then he finally said, "Mr. Sawyer, I have got an idea. That fellow, +Strout, thinks he runs this town, and it would tickle him to death if +he thought he made things uncomfortable for you. Then, again, I happen +to know that he is sweet on Huldy Mason himself, and he would do all he +could to widen the breach between 'Zeke and her. You see, he isn't but +forty himself, and he wouldn't mind the difference in ages at all. Now, +my plan is this." Uncle Ike looked out the window and said, "Here comes +Cobb's twins with the team. Now we will take, my things up to the house, +then you take the team and go up to Deacon Mason's and get your trunk +and bring it down to Pettengill's house. You will be my guest for +to-night, anyway, and if I don't make things right with 'Zeke so you can +stay there, I'll fix it anyway so you can stay till you get a place to +suit you. Now don't say no, Mr. Sawyer. Your father and I are old +friends and he will sort o' hold me responsible for your good treatment. +I won't take no for an answer. If you have no objections, Mr. Sawyer, I +wish you would keep your eye on those books when they are put into the +team, for those Cobb boys handle everything as though it was a rock or a +tree stump." And Uncle Ike, taking his kerosene lamp in one hand and his +looking glass in the other, cried, "Come in," as one of the Cobb boys +knocked on the door. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII. + +A VISIT TO THE VICTIM. + + +It was not until Quincy had reached the Pettengill house and helped +Uncle Ike get his things in order, that he finally decided to accept +Uncle Ike's offer. If he went to Eastborough Centre to live at the +hotel, he knew Strout would consider he had won a victory. He had +thought of going to Mr. and Mrs. Putnam about a room and board, but then +he remembered Lindy, and said to himself that Miss Putnam was a pretty +girl and it would be the same old story over again. Then he thought, +"There won't be any danger here with a blind girl and Mandy Skinner, and +if Uncle Ike can arrange matters it will be the best thing I can do." + +And so he drove up to Deacon Mason's with Cobb's twins, saw Mrs. Mason, +went upstairs and packed his trunk quickly, and the Cobb boys drove away +with it to his new, though perhaps only temporary, lodgings. + +When Quincy went downstairs, Mrs. Mason was in the parlor, and she +beckoned to him to come in. He entered and closed the door. + +"I want to speak to you a few minutes," said she, "and I want to tell +you first I don't blame you a bit. I know you told 'Zeke Pettengill that +the tip-over was all your carelessness, but Huldy says it ain't so. She +said she was driving, though you didn't want her to, and the accident +was all her fault. Now, I believe my daughter tells the truth, and the +Deacon thinks so too." + +"Well, Mrs. Mason," said Quincy, "what your daughter says is partly +true, but I am still to blame for allowing her to drive a horse with +which she was not acquainted." + +"That warn't the trouble, Mr. Sawyer," said Mrs. Mason. "Huldy told me +the whole truth. You said something to her about going away. She had +heard what the village gossips were saying. Huldy's got a high temper +and she was so mad that she got flustrated, and that's what caused all +the trouble. I like you, Mr. Sawyer, and Huldy likes you. She says you +have allus been a perfect gentleman, and the Deacon now is awful sorry +you are going, but I hope you will come and see us often while you stay +at Mason's Corner." + +"I certainly shall, Mrs. Mason," replied Quincy. "How is Miss Mason?" + +"Oh, she is fust rate," said the Deacon's wife. "That doctor from the +city fixed her arm all up in what he called a jacket, and that nurse +that you sent just seems to know what Huldy wants before she can ask for +it I hear them nurses are awful expensive, and I don't think she better +stay but a day or two longer." + +"She can't leave till the surgeon comes from Boston and says she can +go," he remarked, thinking this was the easiest way to get out of it. +"May I see Miss Mason?" he added. + +"Certainly," replied Mrs. Mason. "She is in the front chamber. We moved +her in there 'cause there is a fireplace in the room and the nurse +objected to the wood stove that Huldy had in her room. She said it was +either too hot or too cold, and that Huldy must have an even +temperature." + +As Quincy entered the room Huldy looked up and a faint smile lighted her +face. Her usually rosy cheeks showed only a faint touch of pink. The +helpless left arm, in its plaster of paris jacket, rested on the outside +of the white quilt, the fingers on her little hand projecting beyond the +covering. + +Quincy advanced to the bedside and took a vacant chair. The nurse was +sitting by the window. She glanced up at him and at Mrs. Mason, who +followed close behind him, but continued the reading of her book. + +Quincy said lightly, as he reached over and took the right hand and gave +it a little shake, "You're not shaking hands with the left, Miss Mason." + +"No," said Huldy, "I wish I could shake it, but nurse says it will have +to stay on for two or three weeks, and it is so heavy, Mr. Sawyer." + +Mrs. Mason went to the nurse and whispered to her, "Don't let him stay +too long." The nurse nodded and Mrs. Mason left the room. + +Quincy said in a low tone, as he sat in the chair by the bedside, "Miss +Mason, I can't express my sorrow for this unfortunate occurrence. Your +mother says you have told her it was your fault. But I insisted it was +my fault in allowing you to drive a strange horse." + +Huldy smiled. "It wasn't the horse, Mr. Sawyer," she said, and quickly +changing the subject asked, "Where are you going to board now?". + +"Old Uncle Ike Pettengill has taken pity on me," replied Quincy, +thinking he would not say anything about going to Ezekiel Pettengill's +house. + +"But," said Huldy, "Zekiel called here this morning before he went to +Boston for his sister and told me that Uncle Ike was coming to live with +him. Didn't I hear them take your trunk away a little while ago?" + +Quincy saw it was useless to prevaricate, so he said, "My trunk was +taken to Mr. Ezekiel Pettengill's house." + +"I hope you and 'Zekiel will be good friends," said Huldy, with a grave +look on her face. + +"I trust we may become so," remarked Quincy. "I am afraid we are not +now, and I am still more afraid it is my fault that we are not on the +best of terms." + +Huldy turned her face towards him, a red flush coloring her cheeks and +brow. "No," she said, with vehemence, "it was my fault, and you know it, +Mr. Sawyer. How you must hate me for having caused you so much trouble." +She gave a convulsive sob and burst into a flood of tears. + +Quincy was on the point of assuring Huldy that he could never hate her +and that they would always be good friends, but he had no opportunity to +frame the words. + +As Huldy sobbed and began to cry, the nurse jumped to her feet, dropped +her book on the floor, and came quickly to the bedside. She said +nothing, but the look upon her face convinced Quincy that he must wait +for a more auspicious moment to declare his friendly sentiment. So with +a "Good-by, Miss Mason, I'll call again soon," he quitted the apartment +and left the victim to the ministrations of the nurse. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV. + +A QUIET EVENING. + + +After the somewhat exciting termination of his interview with Miss +Mason, Quincy left the house quickly and walked down to Ezekiel +Pettengill's. Uncle Ike was there and he told Mandy to show Mr. Sawyer +to his room, which proved to be the big front one upstairs. + +When he was alone, Quincy sank into the capacious rocking chair and fell +to thinking. His mind went back to his parting with Miss Mason. She had +said that it wasn't the horse, so it must have been what he said to her. +Was she angry because he had decided to go in order to stop village +gossip, or had she really cared for him? Well, it was over now. He would +never know what her real feelings were, and after all it was best for +him not to know. He would drop the whole matter where it was. Then he +began to think about his present position. Here he was located in the +house of the man who would naturally be considered the last one to +desire his company. + +Uncle Ike had told him that he would make it all right. If he failed in +this and Ezekiel objected to his remaining he could move again. He was +determined not to leave Mason's Corner till he got ready, and he felt +sure he would not be ready to go until he had squared accounts with +Strout. + +Presently he heard the sound of wheels. The Pettengill house faced the +south and Eastborough Centre lay west of Mason's Corner, so he could not +see the team when it arrived, as it drove up to the back door, but he +knew that Ezekiel had arrived with his sister. Uncle Ike and Cobb's +twins went down stairs quickly; there was a jumble of voices, and then +the party entered the house. A short time after he heard persons moving +in the room adjoining his, and guessed that Ezekiel's sister was to +occupy it. + +Then he fell to imagining the conversation that was doubtless going on +between Uncle Ike and his nephew. Quincy was not naturally nervous, but +he did not like suspense; almost unconsciously he arose and walked back +and forth across the room several times. Then it occurred to him that +probably the uncle and nephew were having their conversation in the +parlor, which was right under him, and he curbed his impatience and +threw himself into the armchair, which stood near the open fireplace. + +As he did so there came a sharp rap at the door. In response to the +quick uttered "Come in," the door opened and Uncle Ike entered. He came +forward, took a seat in the rocking chair near Quincy and passed him two +letters. + +Quincy looked up inquiringly. He had had his mail sent to Eastborough +Centre, where he had hired a box. At the Mason's Corner post office the +letters were stuck upon a rack, where every one could see them, and +Quincy did not care to have the loungers at Hill's grocery inspecting +his correspondence. + +Uncle Ike saw the look and understood it. Then he said, "'Zekiel brought +these over from Eastborough Centre. He didn't want to, but the +postmaster said one of them was marked 'In haste,' and he had been over +to the hotel and found that you had gone to Mason's Corner, and probably +wouldn't be back to-day, and so he thought 'Zekiel better bring it +over." + +"It was very kind of Mr. Pettengill," said Quincy, "and I wish you would +thank him for me." + +In the meantime he had glanced at his letters. One bore, printed in the +corner, the names, Sawyer, Crowninshield, & Lawrence, Counsellors at +Law, Court Street, Boston, Mass. That was from his father. The other was +directed in a feminine hand and bore the postmark, Mason's Corner, Mass. +He could not imagine from whom it could be. + +"I have had a talk with 'Zekiel," said Uncle Ike, "and the whole matter +is satisfactorily arranged; he is a fair-minded young fellow and he +don't believe you have done anything with the intention of injuring him. +What did you pay up to Deacon Mason's?" + +"Five dollars a week," replied Quincy. + +"Well, it will be the same here," said Uncle Ike. "You can stay as long +as you like. 'Zeke wouldn't charge you anything, but I said no, you have +got to look out for your sister, and Mr. Sawyer can afford to pay." + +Quincy broke in, "And I wouldn't stay unless I did pay. I am able and +willing to pay more, if he will take it." + +"Not a cent more," said Uncle Ike. "He will give you your money's worth, +and then one won't owe the other anything. When you come down to supper +I'll introduce you, just as if you had never seen each other, and you +can both take a fresh start." + +Uncle Ike arose. "By the time you have read your letters supper will be +ready, and I want to go in and have a talk with Alice. She is my only +niece, Mr. Sawyer, and I think she is the finest girl in Massachusetts, +and, as far as I know, there ain't any better one in the whole world;" +and Uncle Ike went out, closing the door behind him. + +Quincy resumed his seat by the window. The light had faded considerably, +but he could still see to read. Naturally enough he first opened the +letter bearing the feminine handwriting. He looked at the signature +first of all and read "Lucinda Putnam." "What can she have to write to +me about?" he thought. He read the letter: + +Mason's Corner, January 22, 186-- + +My dear Mr. Sawyer:--I regret very much that I was absent when you +called, but am glad to learn from mother that you had a pleasant visit. +Although you are from the city I am sure you would blush if you could +hear the nice things mother said about you. I am conceited enough to +think that you will find time to call on us again soon, for I wish to +consult you regarding an important business matter. I am going to Boston +next Monday in relation to this business and if you could make it +convenient to call before then it would be greatly appreciated by + +Yours very truly, +LUCINDA PUTNAM. + +Quincy reflected. "What is she up to? Some legal business, I suppose. +Well, I am not practising law now; I shall have to refer her to--" + +He took up the other letter and read, "Sawyer, Crowninshield, & +Lawrence." + +His father's letter read as follows: + +Boston, January 21, 186-- + +My dear Son:--Yours at hand, and inquiries carefully noted. I had a +brother, James Edward Sawyer; he was five years older than I and must be +about sixty. Father wished him to study law, but he wouldn't study +anything. When father died he got his share of the money, about $50,000, +but he squandered the most of it in high living. The next we heard of +him he had married a country girl named Eunice Raymond, I think. He +brought her to Boston and tried to introduce her into the society he had +been brought up in. She was a nice, pretty woman, but uneducated, and +naturally bashful, and James finally left the city and went to live +somewhere in the country, I never knew where! he never wrote me after +leaving Boston. This Jim Sawyer may be your uncle. I hope not, but if he +is, remember he is my brother, and if he needs any assistance let me +know at once. I hope your health is improving. Your mother and sisters +are well and send love, as does also + +Your affectionate father, +NATHANIEL ADAMS SAWYER. + +As Quincy finished his second letter there was another rap at the door +and Mandy's voice was heard outside saying, "Supper's ready, Mr. +Saw--yer." + +Quincy jumped to his feet. He had not unlocked his trunk, as he was not +certain that it would be worth while to do so. It was but the work of a +few moments to make the necessary changes in his toilet. He put on a +black Prince Albert coat in place of a sack coat that he usually wore, +but before he had completed this change there came another tap on the +door, and Mandy's voice was heard saying, "The things will get cold if +you don't come down right away." + +As Quincy entered the large room which was used for a dining-room, he +was met by Uncle Ike. Ezekiel was standing a short distance from his +uncle. Uncle Ike said, "'Zekiel, this is my friend, Mr. Sawyer. Mr. +Sawyer, this is my nephew, 'Zekiel Pettengill. I am good friends with +both of you, and I hope you will be good friends to each other." + +The two men shook hands. If each had any idea of what the other was +thinking about he did not betray it by look or act. + +Uncle Ike continued, "Mr. Sawyer, this is Jim Cobb and this is Bill +Cobb, and this," as Mandy entered bearing something for the table, "is +Miss Mandy Skinner. Now that we are all acquainted, I think we had all +better introduce ourselves at once to the supper. I haven't done such a +hard day's work for sixteen years." + +Ezekiel insisted upon Uncle Ike taking the head of the table. He +motioned Mr. Sawyer to take the second seat from his uncle on the right, +while he took the first seat on the left, with Cobb's twins next to him. + +Quincy immediately surmised that when the sister appeared at the table +she would probably sit between him and Uncle Ike. + +The meal was not a very lively one as far as conversation went. Quincy +inquired politely concerning Miss Pettengill's health, and Uncle Ike +said she was tired after her trip, and Mandy was going to take her +supper up to her. + +The meal was plentiful and well cooked. Quincy thought to himself, how +much brighter it would have looked, and how much better the food would +have tasted if Miss Huldy Mason had been present with her pretty face, +joyous laugh, and occasional bright sayings. + +After supper the things were quickly taken out by Mandy. The white +tablecloth was removed, and one in which the prevailing color was bright +red took its place. + +The three men drew up to the open fireplace. Uncle Ike pulled out his +pipe and said, "Do you allow smoking here, 'Zeke?" + +'Zekiel replied, "I wish you and Mr. Sawyer to make yourselves perfectly +at home and do just as you would if you were in your own house." + +"Well, if I did that," said Uncle Ike, "you wouldn't need Mandy, for I +should be chief cook and bottle washer myself." + +Uncle Ike lighted his pipe, and Ezekiel took a cigar from his pocket, +saying, "I guess I'll smoke, too." Then his face reddened. He said, "Beg +pardon, Mr. Sawyer, I have only this one." + +"That's all right," rejoined Quincy, "a cigar would be too heavy for me +to-night. I have a slight headache, and if you will excuse me I will +roll a cigarette." + +He took his little case of rice paper from his pocket and also a small +pouch of tobacco, and deftly made and lighted a cigarette. The three men +sat smoking, and as Quincy blew a ring into the air he wondered what Sir +Walter Raleigh would have said if he could have looked in upon them. + +Quincy broke the silence. "I am afraid, Uncle Ike, that I have caused +you much inconvenience by driving you out of that pleasant front room +where I found my trunk." + +"Not a bit," replied Uncle Ike. "I hate carpets, and I prefer to sleep +in my own bed, and what's more, I wanted to put up my stove, and there +was no chance in that front room. When real cold weather comes I always +have a ton of coal for my stove, so I am much better off where I am than +I would be downstairs. By the way, 'Zeke, just tell me all about Alice +again. You won't mind Mr. Sawyer; he is one of the family now." + +"Well," said Ezekiel, "Alice was taken sick about the middle of +December. The folks where she boarded sent for a doctor. It was about +eight o'clock in the morning when she was taken, and it was noon before +she got easy, so they could get her to bed. She thought she was getting +better; then, she had another attack; then she thought she was getting +better again, and the third attack was the worst of the three. The folks +wanted to write to me, but she wouldn't let them. When she really did +begin to get better, she found out there was something that was worse +than being sick. She found she couldn't see to read either print or +writing, but Alice is a spunky girl, and she wouldn't give in, even +then. A friend told her to go and see Dr. Moses, who was an eye doctor, +and put herself right under his treatment. She thought she was going to +get well right off at first, but when she found it was likely to be a +long job, then she gave in and wrote to me. She has brought her +treatment down with her, and the doctor says she will have to go to +Boston once a month to see him, as he is too busy to come down here." + +At this point in the proceedings the door opened and Mandy entered, +bringing a large dish of big red apples and another full of cracked +shellbarks. She left the room and returned almost immediately with a +large dish full of popcorn. + +"Have an apple?" said Ezekiel. "Help yourselves; we don't pass anything +round here. We put the things on the table and each one helps himself." + +Mandy came in again, bringing a large pitcher of cider and some glasses, +which she placed upon the table. + +While the three men were discussing their country evening lunch in +silence, an animated conversation was taking place in the kitchen, the +participants being Mandy, Mrs. Bridget Crowley, and Hiram, who always +dropped in during the evening to get his glass of cider, a luxury that +was not dispensed at Deacon Mason's. + +"Well," said Mandy, "I think it's wasteful extravagance for you Irish +folks to spend so much money on carriages when one of your friends +happens to die. As you just said, when you lived in Boston you own up +you spent fourteen dollars in one month going to funerals, and you paid +a dollar a seat each time." + +"I did that," said Mrs. Crowley, "and I earned every bit of it doing +washing, for Pat, bless his sowl, was out of work at the time." + +"Just think of that!" said Mandy, turning to Hiram. + +"Well, it can't be helped," said Mrs. Crowley, obstinately. "Shure and +if I don't go to folks' funerals they won't come to mine." + +This was too much for Mandy and Hiram, and they began laughing, which so +incensed Mrs. Crowley that she trudged off to her little room in the +ell, which departure just suited Mandy and Hiram. + +[Illustration: "MANDY SKINNER," AS SHE APPEARS IN THE PLAY.] + +"Have you got any soft soap here in the kitchen?" asked Hiram. + +"No," said Mandy, "I used the last this afternoon. I shall have to go +out in the shed to-morrow morning and get some." + +"You wouldn't be likely to go out to-night for any?" asked Hiram. + +"I guess not," said Mandy. "Why, there is rats out in that shed as big +as kittens. Did you want to use some?" + +"No," said Hiram, "but I didn't want you to have any 'round handy, for I +am bound to tell you I heard Strout telling the minister's son that +Lindy Putnam writ a letter to Mr. Sawyer and mailed it at Mason's Corner +post office this mornin', and it was directed to Eastborough Centre, and +Strout said it looked as though they were keeping up correspondence. I +tell you that made 'Manuel Howe mad, for he's gone on Lindy Putnam +himself, and then Strout said that probably all the fellers in town +would have to put off getting married until that city chap had decided +which one of the girls he wanted himself. And now, hang it," said Hiram, +"he has come to live in this house, and I sha'n't have any peace of +mind." + +Hiram dodged the first apple Mandy threw at his head, but the second one +hit him squarely, and he gave a loud "Oh!" + +"Stop your noise," said Mandy, "or Mr. Pettengill will be out here. I'll +ask them if they want anything else," as she rapped on the door. There +was no response and she opened it and looked in. "Why, they have all +gone to bed," she said. At that moment the old clock in the kitchen +struck nine. "It's nine o'clock and you had better be going home, Hiram +Maxwell." + +"I shall have to get some anarchy to put on my forehead," said Hiram. +"See that big bump, Mandy, that you made." + +Mandy approached him quite closely and looked at his forehead; as she +did so she turned up her nose and puckered her mouth. Her arms were +hanging by her side. Hiram grasped her around the waist, holding both of +her arms tight, and before Mandy could break away he gave her a kiss +full on the mouth. + +He made a quick rush for the door, opened it and dashed out into the +night. Luckily for him there was no moon and he was out of sight before +Mandy could recover her self-possession and reach the door. She peered +out into the darkness for a moment; then she closed the door and bolted +it, took a lamp and went up to her own room. Standing in front of her +looking glass, she turned up her nose and puckered up her mouth as she +had done when facing Hiram. + +"That's the first time Hiram Maxwell ever kissed me," she said to +herself, "Mebbe it will be the last time and mebbe it won't." Then she +said reflectively, "I didn't think the little fellow had so much spunk +in him." + +In a quarter of an hour she was dreaming of cupids, and hearts, and +arrows, and St. Valentine's Day, which was not so very far away. + + + + +CHAPTER XV. + +A LONG LOST RELATIVE. + + +Ezekiel Pettengill owned what Deacon Mason did not--a nice carryall and +a good road horse. Ezekiel would fix no price, but Quincy would not +drive him unless he paid for the use of the team. One dollar for half a +day, two dollars for a whole day, were the prices finally fixed upon. + +Quincy drove first to Mrs. Putnam's. As he was ascending the steps the +front door was opened and Lindy stood there to welcome him, which she +did by extending her hand and then showing him into the parlor. She was +evidently on the point of going out, for she had on her outdoor +garments. After a few commonplaces relating to health and the weather, +Quincy abruptly approached the object of his visit by saying, "I +received your letter, Miss Putnam, and I have come to see if I can be of +any service to you." + +"Oh! I know you can," said Lindy; "you are wealthy--" + +"I beg your pardon," interposed Quincy, "I am not what they call a +wealthy young man; the fact that my father is possessed of a large +fortune has probably given rise to the incorrect impression just +repeated by you." + +"I understand," said Lindy, with a laugh. "What I meant to say was, that +you are undoubtedly acquainted with wealthy gentlemen, who know the best +ways of investing money. I find my money a great trouble to me," she +continued. "I had $25,000 invested in a first mortgage, but the property +has been sold and the money repaid to me, and I don't know what to do +with it." + +"The obvious thing to do," remarked Quincy, "is to invest it at once, so +that it will begin paying you interest." + +"That is just what I wished to see you about," responded Lindy. "How +would you advise me to invest it?" she asked. + +"I would not presume," replied Quincy, "to give positive advice in such +a case. I would go either to Foss & Follansbee, or Braithwaite & Mellen, +or perhaps Rothwell Brothers & Co., look over the securities they have +for sale and make my own selection, if I were in your place." + +Lindy was manifestly disappointed at Quincy's polite refusal to +recommend any particular security, but she evidently realized that +further argument or entreaty would be useless, so she quickly changed +the subject by remarking that her mother had considerable money +invested, but that she was a woman who never took any advice and never +gave any. + +"I wonder who my mother is going to leave her money to? Do you know, Mr. +Sawyer?" + +Quincy replied that he did not. "But she did tell me that by the terms +of your brother's will you were not to inherit it." + +"Well, if you ever find out," said Lindy, "you will tell me, won't you, +Mr. Sawyer?" + +"Yes," said Quincy, "unless I am requested to keep it a secret." + +"But you wouldn't keep it from me, their own daughter," said Lindy. + +"Well," he replied, "I don't think it at all likely that they will +inform me; but I promise to tell you if I learn who it is and am not +bound in any way to keep the information secret." + +"And will you tell me just as soon as you know?" persisted Lindy. + +"In less than twenty-four hours from the time I learn the name you +shall hear it from my own lips," he replied. + +"Thank you," said Lindy. "Would you like to see father and mother? +Father has been quite sick for a few days and they are in their own +room. I will go up and tell them you are coming." + +Quincy was left in the room. That gossip about Miss Putnam could not be +true. Gossip said she was ashamed of her father and mother, and yet she +had invited him to go up and see them. What a pretty girl she was, well +educated and with a hundred thousand dollars; such a beautiful singer +and their voices blended so nicely together. How pleased his mother and +sisters would be if he should bring home a wife like her. On the wall +hung an oil portrait of her, evidently painted within a short time. He +sat looking at it as Lindy opened the door. + +Before he could remove his eyes from the picture, Lindy had noticed his +fixed gaze at it and smiled brightly. + +"Mother would be delighted to see you." + +Lindy rang a small bell that was on a table. In a moment Samanthy +entered the room. + +"Samantha, please show Mr. Sawyer to mother's room. Will you excuse me, +Mr. Sawyer, if I am not here to say good-by to you after you have seen +mother? I am going to the city this morning and there--" looking out of +the window--"here comes Abner Stiles; he is going to drive me over to +Eastborough. Did you ever meet Mr. Stiles, Mr. Sawyer?" + +"I may have seen him," replied Quincy. + +"Seeing him is nothing," said Lindy. "He must be heard to be +appreciated. He is a most engaging talker; he has caught the biggest +fish and killed the biggest bears--" + +"And told the biggest lies," broke in Quincy,-- + +"Of any man in town," Lindy concluded. + +"I think there is one man in town who can tell bigger ones," Quincy +said gravely; "he has been telling a good many lately." + +Lindy looked up and smiled. "He will never forgive us for what we did at +the concert," said she, "Well, I mustn't keep Mr. Stiles waiting any +longer, if I do he may--" + +"Try to compete with the other one," added Quincy. + +She smiled again, and gave him her little gloved hand, which he took in +his for an instant. + +She ran out quickly and got into the team, which immediately drove off. +Samanthy, who had been waiting impatiently in the hallway, ushered +Quincy into an upper chamber, where sat Mrs. Putnam. Her husband was +reclining on a lounge near the fire. + +[Illustration: "SAMANTHY GREEN," AS SHE APPEARS IN THE PLAY.] + +"Well, I am awful glad to see yer," said Mrs. Putnam. "Silas here hasn't +been feelin' fust rate for more'n a week. He's most frozen to death all +the time. So I got him up front of the fire, same as I used to roast +turkeys. Set down, Mr. Sawyer, and tell me all the news. Have you heerd +anybody going to git engaged or anybody going to git married? I heerd as +how you had left Deacon Mason's. So you 'cided to take my advice. I'm +kinder sorry you tipped the buggy over, for Huldy Mason's a nice girl. +The fact is I was thinkin' more of her than I was of you, when I told +yer you'd better git out. Where be yer boardin' now?" + +"I am boarding at Mr. Ezekiel Pettengill's. His sister has got home and +his Uncle Isaac has come back to live with him." + +"Lord sakes, do tell!" said Mrs. Putnam. "I allus thought that old fool +would die out there in the woods and they'd bury him in his chicken +coop. But what on airth is Alice home for? Has she lost her job?" + +"No," replied Quincy; "poor girl, she has almost lost her sight. She +has been very sick, and as a result she is almost blind, and had to give +up work and come home." + +Mrs. Putnam sank back in her chair. + +"If I didn't think you were a truthful man, Mr. Sawyer, I wouldn't +b'lieve a word you said. My poor Alice. Why, do you know, Mr. Sawyer, I +never saw a human being in all my life that I liked so much as I have +Alice Pettengill. Did you ever see her, Mr. Sawyer?" + +"No," said Quincy, "she only arrived yesterday afternoon, and she did +not appear at supper nor at breakfast this morning. She was tired and +wished to rest, her brother told me." + +"Well, I hope she won't die," said Mrs. Putnam. "I have left her every +dollar I've got in the world, and if she should die I shouldn't know who +on airth to give it to. Well, there, I've let the cat out of the bag, +and my daughter Lindy, mean as she is about money, would give a thousand +dollars to know who I am goin' to leave my money to. I wish I could see +Alice. I can't walk, and that poor, deaf girl can't see. Why, Mr. +Sawyer, I think she's the prettiest, sweetest girl I ever sot eyes on in +my life, and I've seed a good many on 'em. Now you tell me what you +think of her the next time you come up, won't you, Mr. Sawyer?" + +"I certainly will," said Quincy, "and if she will come with me I will +bring her over to see you. If she came from Boston with her brother, she +can surely ride as far as this," he added. + +"Tell her I shall count every minute till she, comes over here, but +don't say a word to her about my money," said Mrs. Putnam. + +"Certainly not," Quincy answered. "You did not intend to tell me." + +"No, I didn't," acknowledged Mrs. Putnam, "it slipped out before I +thought." + +Quincy arose. "I must go now, Mrs. Putnam. I have business at +Eastborough Centre, and I don't know how long it will take me, and +besides, I am anxious to see Miss Pettengill after your glowing +description of her beauty and her virtues." + +"Well, I haven't put the paint on half as thick as it would stand," said +Mrs. Putnam. "Well, good-by, Mr. Sawyer. It's very kind in you to come +and see two old folks like us. No use saying good-by to Silas; he's +stone deef and besides he's sound asleep." + +When Quincy took up the reins and started towards Eastborough Centre it +was with conflicting emotions. If there had been no Alice Pettengill to +see, his thoughts, no doubt, would have related chiefly to Lindy Putnam, +who had never attracted his attention before as she had that morning. +Could Alice Pettengill be as pretty and as good as Mrs. Putnam had +portrayed? And she was to be an heiress. He was sorry that Mrs. Putnam +had told him. When he was talking to Miss Pettengill what he knew would +be continually in his mind. He was glad that she was to have the money, +but very sorry that he knew she was to have it; he had promised not to +tell her, but he had promised to tell Lindy. Mrs. Putnam had not told +him not to tell Lindy, but she had said Lindy would give a thousand +dollars to know. Now, was that the same as requesting him not to tell +Lindy, and should he tell Lindy for nothing what her mother said she +would give a thousand dollars to know? Anyhow, that question must be +decided within the next twenty-four hours. + +Then he began to think of his intended visit to Eastborough Poorhouse. +Would the Jim Sawyer that he found there turn out to be his own uncle? +What a sweet morsel that would be for Strout if it proved to be true. +Anyhow, he would follow his father's instructions and do all he could +for his uncle, come what might. + +Since he had arrived at Mason's Corner everything that he had done +seemed to give rise to gossip, and a little more of it could do no harm. + +Quincy reached the Poorhouse and inquired for the keeper. A very stout, +red-faced man answered the summons. + +He informed Quincy that his name was Asa Waters, and that he had been +keeper of the town Poorhouse for the last ten years. + +Quincy thought from his size, as he evidently weighed between three and +four hundred pounds, that he had probably eaten all the food supplied +for the inmates. In reply to a direct question whether there was a man +there by the name of Jim Sawyer, Mr. Waters said "yes," but that he was +sick abed and had been for the last week. + +"He coughs awful," said Waters; "in fact, I had to change his room +because the rest of us couldn't sleep. When we tried to move him he +became sort of crazy like, and it took three on us to get him out of the +room and take him upstairs. He seems sot on getting back in that room. +The other day he crawled down stairs and we found him trying to get into +the room, but I had it locked and we had another fight to get him +upstairs again." + +"Well," said Quincy, "I would like to see him; it may be he is a distant +relative of our family. My father wishes me to talk with him and make +the inquiry anyway." + +"What mought your name be?" asked Mr. Waters. + +"My name is Quincy Adams Sawyer." + +"Oh, yes, I remember you," said Waters. "Wasn't you the singer that Mr. +Strout hired to come down from Boston to sing at his concert. Strout +told me he paid you $50 for singing that night, and by gosh it was worth +it." + +Quincy was not a profane young man, but he had to smother an oath on +hearing that. He replied, "Yes, I sang that night." + +"And," said Waters, "didn't you whistle that piece, Listen to the +Bobolink, fine?" + +"Here, Sam," said he to a young fellow who appeared in sight, "show this +gentleman up to Jim Sawyer's room; I'm getting kind of pussy, and I +don't go upstairs much." + +Sam performed his mission and Quincy was ushered into the room and found +himself with the sick man. + +"Is your name James Sawyer?" asked Quincy. + +"Yes," said the man. "I used to be proud of it once." + +"Did you have a brother?" asked Quincy. + +"Well," said Jim, "I don't think he would be proud of me now, so I guess +I won't claim any relationship." + +Quincy stopped for a moment. Evidently the man's pride would keep him +from telling anything about himself. He would try him on a new tack. The +man had a long fit of coughing. When it had subsided, Quincy said, "It +wearies you to talk. I will do the talking, and if what I say is true +you can nod your head." Quincy continued, "Your name is James Edward +Sawyer, your brother's name was Nathaniel." The man opened his eyes wide +and looked steadfastly at him. "Your father, Edward Sawyer, left you +fifty thousand dollars." The man clutched with both hands at the quilt +on the bed. "You are about sixty years of age." The man nodded. "You +married a young girl who lived in the country and took her to Boston +with you; her maiden name was Eunice Raymond." + +The man started up in bed, resting on his elbow. "How did you know all +this?" asked he. "Who has told you this? Who are you?" + +The exertion and the rapid speaking brought on another fit of coughing +and he fell back on his pillow. + +"If what I have said is true," remarked Quincy quietly, "your brother, +Nathaniel, is my father, and I am your nephew, Quincy Adams Sawyer." + +"Who sent you to see me?" asked the man. + +"I heard," replied Quincy, "that a man named James Sawyer was in the +Eastborough Poorhouse. I wrote to my father, and in his reply he told me +what I have just said to you. If you are my uncle, father says to do +everything I can to help you, and if he had not said so I would have +done it anyway." + +"It is all true," said the man faintly. "I squandered the money my +father left me. I married a sweet, young girl and took her to the city. +I tried to introduce her into the set to which I once belonged. It was a +failure. I was angry, not with myself for expecting too much, but with +her because she gave me too little, as I then thought. We had two +children--a boy named Ray and a little girl named Mary, after my +mother." + +"My grandmother," said Quincy. + +James Sawyer continued: "I took to drink. I abused the woman whose only +fault had been that she had loved me. I neglected to provide for my +family. My wife fell sick, my two little children died, and my wife soon +followed them. I returned from a debauch which had lasted me for about a +month to find that I was alone in the world. I fled from the town where +we had lived, came here and tried to reform. I could not. I fell sick +and they sent me here to the Poorhouse. I have had no ambition to leave. +I knew if I did it would mean the same old life. I am glad you came. I +cannot tell you how glad. I do not wish for any assistance; the town +will care for me as long as I live, which will not be very long; but +your coming enables me to perform an act of justice which otherwise I +could not have done." + +"Tell me in what way I can serve you," said Quincy, "and it shall be +done." + +"Look outside of the door," said the man, "and see if anybody is +listening." + +Quincy opened the door suddenly and the broad face of Mr. Asa Waters +stood revealed. + +"I thought I would come up and see if Mr. Sawyer wanted anything." + +"If he does," said Quincy, "I will inform you;" and he closed the door +in Mr. Waters's face. + +Quincy waited till he heard his ponderous footsteps descending the +stairs at the foot of the hallway. + +"Was old Waters out there listening?" asked Jim Sawyer. + +"I don't think he had time to hear anything," Quincy replied. + +"Come closer," said Jim; "let me whisper. I am not penniless. I have got +some money. I have five thousand dollars in government bonds. I sold +some stock I owned just before I went off on that last debauch, but I +didn't spend all the money. When I die I want you to pay back to the +town of Eastborough every dollar I owe for board. Don't let anybody know +you got the money from me. Pay it yourself and keep the balance of it +yourself." + +"Where is the money?" said Quincy. + +"It is down in my old room, No. 24, one flight down from here, at the +other end of the hallway. I have got a key that will open the door. I +made it myself. I nearly got in there the other day, but they caught me +before I had a chance to open the door. If you can get in there take up +the fourth brick from the window, second row from the front of the +fireplace, and you will find the bonds in an old leather wallet. What +time is it?" he asked quickly. + +"Half-past eleven," replied Quincy. + +"Now is your time," said the man; "all the hands have their dinner from +half-past eleven to twelve; at twelve they feed us; take this key, and +if you get the money, for God's sake come around to-morrow and let me +know. I sha'n't sleep a wink till I hear from you." + +Quincy pressed the sick man's hand and left the room. He went downstairs +on tiptoe and quickly reached room No. 24. He listened; all was quiet; +it took but an instant to open the door, and, slipping quietly in, he +locked it after him. With some difficulty he found the wallet, looked +inside and saw five one thousand dollar United States bonds. He put the +wallet in his pocket, replaced the brick, and listened at the door; all +was quiet. He unlocked it, slipped out, locked it, and was retracing his +steps, when he saw Sam coming upstairs at the other end of the hallway. + +"I think I took the wrong turn," said Quincy. "I thought I came up that +way." + +"No," said Sam; "that's the back way." + +"Thank you," said Quincy, as he ran lightly downstairs. At the foot he +met Mr. Waters. + +"Well, is he any relative of yours?" asked Waters. + +"I don't know yet," replied Quincy; "he has given me some facts, and I +am going to write to Boston, and when I hear from there I will be able +to answer your question. I will come around in a few days, as soon as I +hear from the city." + +Quincy jumped into his team and drove to Eastborough Centre post office +to see if there were any letters for him. + +When he reached the post office he found a letter from his father, +informing him his mother and sisters were going to New York for a two +weeks' visit and would very much like to see him if he would run up the +next day. + +Quincy's mind was made up instantly. He drove to the hotel, left the +team, with instructions to have it ready for him when he came down on +the express that reached Eastborough Centre at 7.15 P.M., ran for the +station and caught on to the back platform of the last car as it sped on +its way to Boston. + +Arriving there, he first took a hasty lunch, then hiring a coupe by the +hour, drove to his bank on State Street. Here he left the bonds with +instructions to write to Eastborough Centre the amount realized from +them and passed to the credit of his account. + +His next trip was to his father's house on Beacon Street, where he found +his mother and sisters. They were overjoyed to see him, and his younger +sister declared that he had grown better looking since he went away. She +wanted to know if he had fallen in love with a country girl. Quincy +replied that his heart was still free and if it wasn't for the law he +would have her for his wife, and no one else. Maude laughed and slapped +him. + +He next rode to his father's office on Court Street. The Hon. Nathaniel +had just lunched at Parker's and was enjoying a good cigar when his son +came in. + +Quincy told him that the Jim Sawyer at Eastborough Poorhouse was +unquestionably their missing relative. + +"Poor Jim," said Nathaniel; "I ought to go and see him." + +"No; I wouldn't," said Quincy, "it will do no good, and his remorse is +deep enough now without adding to it." + +He then told his father about the money, and the latter agreed that +Jim's idea was right and Quincy had best use the money as though it were +his own. + +"By the by," said his father, wheeling round in his office chair, "that +Miss Putnam from Eastborough is a very pretty girl; don't you think so, +Quincy?" + +"Handsome is as handsome does," thought Quincy to himself, but he only +said, "Where did you see her?" + +"She was in here to-day," replied his father. "She said she had $25,000 +to invest, and that you gave her the address of some broker, but that +she had forgotten it." + +"Her statement is partially true," said Quincy, "but not complete. I +gave her three addresses, because I did not wish to recommend any +particular one. I wished her to make her own choice." + +"I was not so conservative," remarked his father. "I advised her to go +to Foss & Follansbee and even suggested that Quinnebaug Copper Company +was one of the most promising investments before the public to-day." + +"Did she confide in you any farther," said Quincy. + +"Oh, yes," replied his father; "I gleaned she was worth $100,000 and +that her parents, who were very old people, had nearly as much more. I +remember her brother, J. Jones Putnam. He was a 'plunger,' and a +successful one. He died suddenly of lung fever, I believe." + +Quincy smiled. + +"She seemed to be well educated," his father continued, "and told me +that you and she sang together at a concert." + +"Did she tell you what her father's religion was?" inquired Quincy. + +"You don't seem to admire this young lady, Quincy. I thought she would +be likely to be a great friend of yours. You might do worse than--" + +"I know," said Quincy, "she is pretty, well educated, musical, very +tasteful in dress, and has money, but she can't have me. But how did it +end?" asked he; "how did you get rid of her?" + +"Well," replied his father, "as I said before, I thought she must be a +great friend of yours, and perhaps more, so I went down to Foss & +Follansbee's with her; then we went to Parker's to lunch, then I sent +her to the station in a coupe." + +"I am greatly obliged to you, father," said Quincy, "for the kind +attentions you paid her. I shall get the full credit of them down in +Eastborough; your name will not be mentioned; only," said Quincy with a +laugh, "if she is coming to the city very often I think perhaps I had +better come back to Boston and look after mother's interests." + +The Hon. Nathaniel was nettled by this and said sternly, "I do not like +that sort of pleasantry, Quincy." + +"Neither do I," said Quincy coolly, "and I hope there will be no further +occasion for it." + +"How long do you intend to remain in Eastborough?" asked his father. + +"I don't know," replied Quincy. "I can't come home while Uncle Jim is +sick, of course. I will ask him if he would like to see you, and if he +says yes, I will telegraph you. Well, good-by. I was up to the house and +saw mother and the girls. I am going up to the club to see if I can meet +some of the boys and have some dinner, and I shall go down on the 6.05 +express." + +Quincy lighted a cigar, shook hands rather stiffly with his father and +left the office. + +When Quincy reached the Pettengill house it was a little after eight +o'clock. Hiram came out to help him put up the horse. "Anybody up?" +asked Quincy. + +"Only Mandy and me," said Hiram. "Uncle Ike is up in his attic, and +'Zeke is up talkin' to his sister, and Mandy and me has been talkin' to +each other; and, say, Mr. Sawyer, did you meet Lindy Putnam up in Boston +to-day?" + +"No," said Quincy between his shut teeth. + +"Well, that's funny," said Hiram; "I heard Abner Stiles telling Strout +as how Miss Putnam told him that Mr. Sawyer had been to the banker's +with her to invest her money, and that Mr. Sawyer took her out to lunch +and then rode down to the station in a carriage and put her aboard the +train." + +"There are a great many Mr. Sawyers in Boston, you must remember, +Hiram," remarked Quincy. "Anything else, Hiram?" + +"Well, not much more," replied Hiram; "but Strout said that if you got +Lindy and her money and then cajoled the old couple into leavin' their +money to you, that it would be the best game of bunco that had ever been +played in Eastborough." + +"Well, Strout ought to know what a good bunco game is," said Quincy. +"Have the horse ready by nine o'clock in the morning if you can get +over. Good night, Hiram," he said. + +He passed through the kitchen, saying good night to Mandy, and went +straight to his own room. He sat and thought for an hour, going over the +events of the day. + +"As soon as Uncle Jim is dead and buried," said he to himself, "I think +I will leave this town. As the children say when they play 'hide and go +seek,' I am getting warm." + + + + +CHAPTER XVI. + +A PROMISE KEPT. + + +Quincy was up next morning at eight o'clock and ate his breakfast with +'Zekiel. 'Zekiel said his sister did not sleep well nights, and so would +not be down till later. + +"Do you want the team this morning, Mr. Pettengill?" asked Quincy. + +"No," said 'Zekiel, "but the Boston doctor wrote to Deacon Mason that he +was comin' down this afternoon to take that stuff off Huldy's arm, and +she wanted me to come up, so I shall be up there all the afternoon." + +"That reminds me," said Quincy. "Will you tell Deacon Mason that I want +the nurse to stay until to-morrow and I will be up to see her at nine +o'clock?" + +Quincy took up the reins and started for Eastborough Poorhouse. + +He found his uncle weaker than on the day before. Quincy touched his +hand, but did not lift it from the bed. Jim pointed towards the door. + +"It's all right," said Quincy, "there is no one there." + +"Did you get it?" asked Uncle Jim in a whisper. + +"Yes," replied Quincy, "and it's safe in the bank in Boston." + +"Thank God!" exclaimed Uncle Jim. "Now I don't care how soon I am called +to judgment for my sins." + +"Uncle Jim," said Quincy, "I saw my father yesterday afternoon. Would +you like to have your brother come see you?" + +Uncle Jim shook his head. "It will do no good," said he. "You have done +all I could wish for. Pay the town for my board. Give them what they +ask. Do with the balance what you wish, Quincy. It is yours." + +"Where do you wish to be buried, Uncle?" asked Quincy bravely. + +"Right here," replied Uncle Jim. "One of the boys here died about a +month ago; his name was Tom Buck. He was a good fellow and did many kind +things for me. Bury me side of him." + +"One more question, Uncle," said Quincy. "In what town did your wife and +children reside when they died?" + +"In Amesbury," said Uncle Jim. An idea seemed to strike him. "Well, +Quincy, do you suppose you could find where they are buried?" + +"Of course I can," Quincy answered. + +"Well," continued Uncle Jim, "I don't deserve it, I am not worthy of it, +but she always loved me, and so did the children. I never struck her, +nor them, nor did I ever speak unkindly to them. I never went home when +I was drunk. I deserted them and left them to suffer. I don't think she +would object, do you?" + +Quincy divined his thoughts and answered, "No, I do not, Uncle." + +"If you will do it, Quincy," said Uncle Jim, "I shall die a happy man. +Buy a little lot and put me beside Eunice and the children. Don't put my +name on the stone, put her name and those of the children. That will +please me best. She will know I am there, but others will not." + +"It shall be done as you say, Uncle," said Quincy. "I will be here early +to-morrow morning and I shall come every day to see you. Good-by." + +He touched his uncle's hand again softly and left the room. Uncle Jim, +with a smile upon his wasted face, fell asleep. + +Quincy drove leisurely towards Mason's Corner. It was more than +twenty-four hours since he had learned who was to be Mrs. Putnam's +heiress. He had made a promise. Should he keep it? How could he avoid +keeping it? He would see Miss Putnam and be governed by circumstances. + +He reached the Putnam house and was shown into the same room as on the +morning before. In a few minutes Lindy joined him. He had never seen her +looking better. She had on a handsome gown that he had never seen +before. Quincy opened the conversation. + +"Did you enjoy your trip to Boston yesterday, Miss Putnam?" + +"Oh, yes," replied Lindy, "I must tell you all about it." + +"There is no need to, Miss Putnam, I am acquainted with the most +important events of your trip already." + +"Why, how?" asked Lindy. "Oh, I see," said she, "you had a letter from +your father." + +"No," said Quincy. "I had the pleasure of a conversation with my father +yesterday afternoon in Boston." + +"Is that so?" exclaimed Lindy. + +"Yes," said Quincy, "but I might have learned all the principal facts +without leaving Mason's Corner. In fact, I did learn them in a somewhat +distorted shape late last evening." + +Lindy colored until her forehead was as red as her cheeks. + +"I do not understand you, Mr. Sawyer," she remarked. + +"It is easily explained," said Quincy. "Mr. Stiles forgot to mention +that it was my father who was your escort and not myself. Of course he +would offer the similarity in names as his excuse." + +"And so," said Lindy, recovering herself, "you have come here to scold +me because Abner Stiles didn't tell the truth. I told you he was a +wonderful story teller." + +"No, Miss Putnam," said Quincy, "I did not come here for any such +purpose. I made you a promise yesterday and I have come to keep it. I +know who is to inherit your mother's money. She did not intend to tell +me, but the name escaped her unintentionally." + +"Did she ask you not to tell me?" asked Lindy. + +"No," replied Quincy, "not in so many words." + +"Then you must tell me," cried Lindy eagerly. + +"Well, I don't know," said Quincy. "Your mother said you would give a +thousand dollars to know the name of the person. This fixes the +condition on which I shall divulge the name." + +"And if I did give you a thousand dollars," inquired Lindy, "what would +you do with the money?" + +"I should give it to your mother," said Quincy. "She fixed the price of +the secret, not I." + +Lindy walked to the window and looked out. She wished to know the name. +She had her suspicions, but she could not bear to give up a thousand +dollars of her own money, for she knew that this, too, would go to the +unknown heiress. She knew Alice Pettengill was in town and at her +brother's house. She had been there for a whole day and parts of two +others. She would save her money and at the same time learn the truth. + +Turning to Quincy she said, "I cannot afford to pay you, or rather my +mother, a thousand dollars for the secret. It is not worth it. I will +not ask you again for her name, but if you will answer me one simple +question I will absolve you from your promise." + +Quincy reflected. He knew that Lindy was deep and that she was plotting +something while she stood at the window. But he wished this matter over, +he was tired of it, so he replied, "I will answer your simple question, +Miss Putnam, on one condition. It is that you will not deem me guilty +of any intentional discourtesy if, after replying to it, I at once take +my leave." + +They faced each other, she hardly able to conceal her impatience, he +with a stern look upon his face. + +"My simple question is this, Mr. Sawyer, have you ever eaten a meal at +the same table with my mother's heiress?" + +"I have never seen her," replied Quincy coldly. He took his hat, and +with a low bow quitted the house and drove away. + +Lindy threw herself in a passion on the sofa and burst into a flood of +tears. She had played her last card and had lost. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII. + +AN INFORMAL INTRODUCTION. + + +When Quincy drove into the barn he found Jim Cobb there, and he turned +the horse over to him. Entering by the back door he passed through the +kitchen without seeing either Mandy or Mrs. Crowley, and went slowly +upstairs. The house was very quiet. He remembered that Uncle Ike had +gone to Eastborough Centre and 'Zekiel had gone to Deacon Mason's. It +was necessary for him to pass the door of the room occupied by Alice +Pettengill in order to reach his own room. The door of her room was +open. He involuntarily glanced in and then stood still. + +What vision was this that met his eye? The sun, now dropping to the +westward, threw its rays in at the window and they fell upon the head of +the young girl seated beside it. + +The hair was golden in the sunlight, that real golden that is seldom +seen excepting on the heads of young children. She seemed slight in +figure, but above the average stature. She wore a loose-fitting dress of +light blue material, faced down the front with white, and over her +shoulders was thrown a small knitted shawl of a light pink color. Quincy +could not see her face, except in profile, for it was turned towards the +window, but the profile was a striking one. He turned to step forward +and enter his own room. As he did so the board upon which he stood +creaked. He stopped again suddenly, hoping that the noise would not +attract her attention, but her quick ear had caught the sound, and, +rising, she advanced towards the door, her hands extended before her. + +"Is that you, Uncle Ike?" she asked in a clear, sweet voice. "I heard +you drive in." + +She had started in a straight line towards the door, but for some cause, +perhaps the bright light coming from the wood fire in the open +fireplace, she swerved in her course and would have walked directly +towards the blazing wood had not Quincy rushed forward, caught her by +the hand and stopped her further progress, saying as he did so, "Miss +Pettengill, you will set your dress on fire." + +"You are not Uncle Ike," said she, quickly. "He could not walk as fast +as that. Who are you? You must know me, for you called me by name." + +Quincy replied, "Under the circumstances, Miss Pettengill, I see no way +but to introduce myself. I am your brother's boarder, and my name is +Sawyer." + +"I am pleased to meet you, Mr. Sawyer," said she, extending her hand, +which Quincy took. "I feel acquainted with you already, for Uncle Ike +speaks of you very often, and 'Zekiel said you used to board at Deacon +Mason's. Don't you think Huldy is a lovely girl?" + +Quincy avoided this direct question and replied, "Uncle Ike has been +equally kind in speaking of his niece, Miss Pettengill, so that I feel +acquainted with her even without this,--I was going to say formal +introduction,--but I think that we must both confess it was rather +informal." + +Alice laughed merrily. "Won't you sit down, Mr. Sawyer? I have been +alone nearly all day, and have really been very lonesome." + +She turned and groped, as if feeling for a chair. Quincy sprang forward, +placed a large rocking chair before the fire, then, taking her hand, saw +her safely ensconced in it. He then took a seat in a large armchair at +the end of the fireplace nearest the door. + +"Thank you, Mr. Sawyer," said Alice. "Everybody has been so kind to me +since I have had this trouble with my eyes. Of course 'Zekiel has told +you about it." + +"Yes," assented Quincy. + +He really did not care to talk. He was satisfied to sit and look at her, +and he could do this with impunity, for she could not see his earnest +gaze fixed upon her. + +"I have been used to an active life," said Alice. "I have had my +business to attend to every day, and evenings I had my books, papers, +pictures, and music. At first it seemed so hard to be shut out from them +all, but years ago Uncle Ike taught me to be a philosopher and to take +life as it came, without constantly fretting or finding fault. Uncle Ike +says, 'It is not work but worry that wears men out,' That's why he came +down here to live in the woods. He said they wouldn't let him work and +so he worried all the time, but when he came here he had plenty to do, +and in his work he found happiness." + +"I am learning a good lesson," said Quincy with a laugh. "I have studied +much, but I actually never did a day's work in all my life, Miss +Pettengill." + +"Then you are to be pitied," said Alice frankly; "but I see I should not +blame you, you are studying now and getting ready to work." + +"Perhaps so," Quincy remarked. "My father wishes me to be a lawyer, but +I detest reading law, and have no inclination to follow in my father's +footsteps." + +"Perhaps you are too young," said Alice, "to settle upon your future +career. I cannot see you, you know, and Uncle Ike did not say how old +you were." + +Quincy smiled. "I am in my twenty-fourth year," said he. "I graduated at +Harvard two years ago." + +"So old!" exclaimed Alice; "why, I am not twenty-one until next June, +and I have been working for my living since I was sixteen." + +Quincy said, "I wish I had as honorable a record." + +"Now you are vexed with me for speaking so plainly," said Alice. + +"Not at all," Quincy replied. "I thank you for it. I have learned from +Uncle Ike that frankness of speech and honesty of heart are Pettengill +characteristics." + +"You might add," said Alice, "firmness in debate, for none of us like to +own up that we are beaten. I remember years ago Uncle Ike and I had a +long discussion as to whether it were better to be stone blind or stone +deaf. I took the ground that it was better to be blind, for one could +hear music and listen to the voices of friends, and hear the sound of +approaching danger, and then, besides, everybody is so kind to a person +who is blind. But you see Uncle Ike don't care for music, and had rather +talk himself than listen, so he decided that it was best to be stone +deaf, for then he could read and write to his friends. But of course +neither of us gave in, and the question, so far as we are concerned, is +still unsettled." + +At that moment the sound of a team was heard, and a few minutes later +Uncle Ike came upstairs, followed by the driver of the team bearing a +big basket and a large bundle. These contained Uncle Ike's purchases. + +"Wait a minute and I will go upstairs with you," called out Uncle Ike to +the man. He entered the room, and looking somewhat surprised at seeing +Quincy, he said somewhat sharply, "So you two have got acquainted, have +you? I have been waiting for two days to introduce you." + +"I am greatly indebted to Mr. Sawyer," said Alice. "When he passed my +door, which was open, I thought it was you and I started forward to meet +you, but I missed my way and was walking directly towards the fire, when +Mr. Sawyer interposed." + +"I should have done the same thing had it been me," said Uncle Ike. "So +I don't see as you were in any real danger." + +Quincy thought that it was noticeably evident that the Pettengills were +noted for plainness of speech. + +"Here are three letters for you, Alice, and here is one for you, Mr. +Sawyer. I thought I would bring it over to you as I met Asa Waters down +to the post office and he said you'd started for home. I'll be down in a +few minutes, Alice, and read your letters for you." And Uncle Ike showed +the man the way up to his domicile. + +Quincy arose, expressed his pleasure at having met Miss Pettengill, and +presuming they would meet again at dinner, took his leave. + +The letter was from Quincy's father. It was short, but was long enough +to cause Quincy to smother an oath, crush the letter in his hands and +throw it into the open fire. The flames touched it, and the strong +draught took it still ablaze up the wide-mouthed chimney. + +But Quincy's unpleasant thought did not go with it. The letter had said, +"Quinnebaug stock has dropped off five points. Foss & Follansbee have +written Miss Putnam that she must put up five thousand dollars to cover +margin. Better see her at once and tell her the drop is only temporary, +and the stock is sure to recover." + +Quincy sat down in his easy-chair, facing the fire, upon which he put +some more wood, which snapped and crackled. + +"I won't go near that girl again," said he, with a determined look upon +his face. The next moment he had banished Lindy Putnam from his mind, +and was thinking of that other girl who was sitting not six feet from +him. He could hear Uncle Ike's voice, and he knew that Alice's letters +were being read to her. Then he fell into a reverie as the twilight +shadows gathered round him. As the room grew darker the fire grew +brighter, and in it he could seem to see a picture of a fair-haired girl +sitting in a chair and listening with evident interest to a young man +who was reading to her from a newspaper. + +The young girl placed her hand upon his arm and asked a question. The +young man dropped the paper and gazed into the girl's face with a look +full of tenderness, and placing one of his hands upon that of the young +girl clasped it fondly, and Quincy saw that the face of this young man +was his own. He sat there until there came a loud rap upon the door and +Mandy's voice called out, "Supper's ready." + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII. + +THE COURTIN'. + + +While Quincy was taking his first steps in Lover's Lane, which steps so +often lead to the high road of Matrimony, 'Zekiel Pettengill had reached +the end of his lane, which had been very long with many devious turns, +and he found himself at that point where the next important question was +to fix the day. + +'Zekiel was a strong-minded, self-willed, self-reliant young man, but in +the presence of Huldy Mason he was as big a coward as the world ever +saw. She had sent a little note to him, saying that she wished to see +him that afternoon, and he knew their fates would be decided that day. +He was hopeful, but the most hopeful lover has spasms of uncertainty +until his lady love has said yes and yes again. + +Dressed in his best, 'Zekiel knocked at Deacon Mason's front door. For +an instant he wished himself safe at home and debated whether he could +get round the corner of the house before the door was opened. He turned +his head to measure the distance, but at that moment the door was +opened, and Mrs. Mason's smiling face was before him, and her pleasant, +cheery voice said, "Come in, 'Zekiel." + +He felt reassured by this, for he argued to himself that she would have +called him Mr. Pettengill if there had been any change in her feelings +towards him. They entered the parlor, and Mrs. Mason said, "Take off +your things and leave them right here, and go right up and see Huldy. +She is waitin' for you. The doctor's been and gone. He took that plaster +thing off Huldy's arm, says she's all right now, only she must be +keerful, not do any heavy liftin' with it till it gets good and strong. +He said it would be some time before she could help me much with the +housework, so I am going to get a girl for a month or two. I heerd your +sister got home, 'Zeke. They do say she's blind. I am awful sorry, +'Zekiel. Hope she will get better of it. I am coming over to see her +just as soon as I get me my girl. But you go right up, there's nobody +there but Huldy. Mr. Sawyer is coming after the nurse to-morrow morning, +and she is up in the spare room trying to catch up with her sleep. We +told her there was no use in setting up with Huldy, but she said she had +her orders from the doctor, and she wouldn't mind a single thing we +said. But we will get rid on her to-morrow. Now you go right up, +'Zekiel;" and Mrs. Mason took him by the arm and saw him on his way up +the front stairs before she returned to her work in the kitchen. + +'Zekiel went upstairs deliberately, one step at a time. His footfalls, +it seemed to him, must be heard all over the house. He paused before +Huldy's door. He opened it a couple of inches, when the thought struck +him that he ought to knock. He started to close the door and do so, when +he heard a faint voice say, "Come in, 'Zekiel." So he was still 'Zekiel +to Huldy. He opened the door and walked bravely into the room, but his +bravery forsook him when he had taken a few steps. He had expected to +find her in bed, as she had been every day before when he had called. +But there she stood before him, the same Huldy as of old. Not exactly +the same, however, for her cheeks had lost much of their rosy tint and +there was a pensive look to the face that was new to it, which 'Zekiel +saw, but could not understand. + +There were two chairs close together before the fire. She sat down in +the left-hand one and motioned 'Zekiel to the other, which he took. + +"I thought I would find you abed," said 'Zekiel. "I didn't know you were +up." + +"Oh, yes," said Huldy. "I got up and dressed as soon as the doctor took +the jacket, that's what he called it, off my arm. I felt so much better +I couldn't stay in bed any longer." + +"Well," said 'Zekiel, "when the schoolmaster used to tell me to take my +jacket off I didn't feel near as well as I did before," and then they +both laughed heartily. + +They sat silent for a few moments, when Huldy, turning her face with +that sad look towards him, said, "There is something on my mind, +'Zekiel, that I wish I could take off as easily as the doctor did that +jacket." + +"Oh, nonsense," cried 'Zekiel; "why should you have anything on your +mind? You are a little bit low spirited because you have been cooped up +in bed so long." + +"No," said Huldy, "that isn't it. I have wronged a person and I am +afraid that person will never fully forgive me. I am real sorry for what +I have done, and I am going to tell the person and ask for pardon." + +"Well," said 'Zekiel, "the person must be pretty mean spirited if he or +she don't forgive you after you say you are sorry, 'specially if you +promise not to do it again." + +"Oh, I shall never do it again," said Huldy. "Once has nearly killed me. +I suffered ten times more from that than from my broken arm." + +"Well," said 'Zekiel, "if that person don't forgive you I don't want +anything more to do with him." + +"Let me tell you a little story," said Huldy. "A little boy and girl +whose homes were not a quarter of a mile apart grew up together in a +little country town. As children they loved each other, and as they grew +older that love really grew stronger, though not so plainly shown or +spoken. Everybody thought that one day they would be married, though he +had never asked her to be his wife. Did you ever hear of anything like +that, 'Zekiel?" + +"Well," remarked 'Zekiel, "I have in my mind two persons whose relations +were pretty similar up to a certain point." + +"Yes," said Huldy, eagerly, "and that point was reached when a young man +from the city, whose father was known to be very wealthy, came to board +in her father's house." Huldy looked at 'Zekiel inquiringly. + +"Yes, I've heard of something like that," said 'Zekiel. + +"For a time," continued Huldy, "the young girl was unfaithful to her +old-time lover. She thought the young man from the city was learning to +love her because he was polite and attentive to her. She thought it +would be nice to be rich and go to the city to live, but the young man +soon undeceived her. He took her to ride one day, and on their way home +he told her he was going to leave her father's house. She wished to know +the reason, but he would not give it. She divined it, however, and in +her agitation lost control of the horse she was driving. The buggy was +overturned and her arm was broken." She looked up at 'Zekiel. His face +was grave, but he nodded for her to go on. "She stayed in bed for three +weeks, and during that time she lived over her short life a hundred, +yes, a thousand, times; she knew that her fancy had been but a fleeting +dream. A suspicion that perhaps the young man had imagined her feelings +towards him was what had nearly broken her heart. Supposing you were the +man, 'Zekiel, and I were the woman in this little story, could you +forgive me if I said I was sorry and would never do it again?" + +"I forgave you, Huldy, when I let him come to board in my house. He told +Uncle Ike why he left your father's house. The folks were talking about +you and him, but he never imagined that you were in love with him, or +thought any more about him than you would have of any passing +acquaintance." + +"I am so glad," cried Huldy; "you have done me more good than the +doctor, 'Zekiel;" and she dropped her head upon his shoulder. + +'Zekiel was struck with an idea, "If I am a better doctor than the other +one, Huldy, I ought to get a bigger price for my services than he does." + +Huldy looked up. "What will your price be, Dr. Pettengill?" + +"I think I shall charge," said 'Zekiel, "one hundred thousand dollars, +and as I know you haven't got the money and can't raise it, I think I +shall have to hold you for security." + +He suited the action to the word, and they sat there so long, happy in +their mutual love, that the Deacon and his wife came upstairs and +entered the room quietly. When they saw the picture before them, thrown +into prominence by the light of the fire, the Deacon said in a low tone +to his wife, "I have thought so all along." + +And as Mrs. Mason looked up into her husband's face she said, "I am glad +on't." + + + + +CHAPTER XIX. + +JIM SAWYER'S FUNERAL. + + +Quincy obeyed the call to supper with alacrity. Possibly he thought he +would be the first one at the table, but Cobb's twins were in their +places when he entered the room. 'Zekiel came in next, and Quincy's +quick eye discerned that there was a look of quiet contentment on his +face which had not been there before. + +Uncle Ike came down with Alice, and for the first time since her arrival +she sat beside Quincy. For some reason or other the conversation lagged. +Quincy surmised that 'Zekiel was too happy with his own thoughts to wish +to talk, and Uncle Ike rarely conversed during meal time. He said he +could not talk and eat at the same time, and as meal time was for eating +he proposed to give his attention to that exclusively. + +Quincy ventured a few commonplace remarks to Alice, to which she replied +pleasantly. He was at a loss for a topic, when he remembered his last +visit to Mrs. Putnam's and recalled his promise to bring Alice to see +her some day. + +He spoke of visiting Mrs. Putnam, and Alice's face immediately shone +with pleasure. "Dear old Aunt Heppy! I must go and see her as soon as I +can." + +"If you can find no better escort than myself, I trust you will command +my services, unless," said Quincy, "your brother thinks it unsafe to +trust you with me." + +"He won't be likely to let you drive, Alice," responded 'Zekiel dryly, +"so I don't think there will be any danger." + +Quincy knew by this remark that Huldy had told 'Zekiel the facts of the +case, but he maintained his composure and said, "Any time you wish to +go, Miss Pettengill, I am at your service." + +As they arose from the table 'Zekiel said to his uncle, "I am coming up +in your room to-night, Uncle Ike, to see you." + +Quincy knew by this that the pleasant chat in the dining-room beside the +fireplace was to be omitted that evening, so he went up to his own room +and read until it was time to retire. + +Quincy was up early next morning. He knew his uncle could not live long, +but he wished to take the trained nurse to Eastborough Centre, so he +might have the best of care during the short time left to him on earth. + +He found 'Zekiel at the breakfast table, and beyond a few commonplace +remarks the meal was eaten in silence. + +"Are you going to Eastborough Centre to-day, Mr. Sawyer?" asked 'Zekiel. + +"Yes," said Quincy; "I intended to go just as soon as one of the boys +could get the team ready." + +"I'll speak to Jim about it," said 'Zekiel. "If you will step into the +parlor, Mr. Sawyer, I would like to have a few minutes' talk with you." + +'Zekiel went out into the barn and Quincy walked into the parlor, where +he found a bright fire burning on the hearth. He threw himself into an +easy-chair and awaited 'Zekiel's return. What was up? Could 'Zekiel and +Huldy have parted, and was 'Zekiel glad of it? Quincy, as the saying is, +passed a "bad quarter of an hour," for he did not like suspense. The +truth, however bitter or unpalatable, was better than uncertainty. + +'Zekiel entered the room and took a seat opposite to Quincy. He bent +forward and placed his hands upon his knees. + +"Mr. Sawyer," said he, "I am a man of few words, so I will come right +to the point. Huldy Mason and me are engaged to be married." + +Quincy was equal to the occasion. He arose, stepped forward, and +extended his hand. 'Zekiel rose also and grasped it unhesitatingly. +Quincy said, "Accept my most sincere congratulations, Mr. Pettengill. I +have known Miss Mason but a short time, but any man ought to be proud of +her and happy in her love." + +"Thank you, Mr. Sawyer," said 'Zekiel; "I agree with you in both the +particulars you've mentioned, but both of us have what we consider good +reasons for not having our engagement known in the village just at +present, and to keep it a secret we need the assistance of a mutual +friend." + +"If I might aspire to that honor," said Quincy, "my time and services +are at your disposal." + +"That's what I told Huldy," said 'Zekiel, "but she was afraid that you +would be vexed at what the gossips said about you and her; she's mad as +a hornet herself, and she wants to teach them a lesson." + +"Personally," said Quincy, "I don't care what the gossips say, but I was +both sorry and indignant that they should have referred to Miss Mason in +the way they did." + +"Well," said 'Zekiel, "we have hatched up a sort of a plot, and if you +will help us, all three of us will have some fun out of it." + +"Well," inquired Quincy, "what's my share in the fun?" + +"It's this," said 'Zekiel, "you know you used to take Huldy out to ride +with you. To help out our plan, would you be willing to do it again?" + +"Certainly," replied Quincy. "Miss Mason has been confined to her room +so long I think she ought to have some fresh air." + +"That's true," remarked 'Zekiel; "she's lost considerable flesh staying +in so long; but if I took her out to ride they would jump at conclusions +right off and say Huldy and 'Zekiel have made up, and they will guess +we are going to make a match of it. Then, again," 'Zekiel continued, +"Huldy says she's bound to have it out with the one that started the +stories. There's no use mincing matters between us, because you know as +well as I do who is at the bottom of all this tittle-tattle. Since I +refused to join hands with him to try and drive you out of town, he has +talked about me almost as bad as he has about you. 'So,' says Huldy to +me, 'you know he is the only teacher of music in Eastborough. I want to +take music lessons very much, and so I have got to have him for +teacher.' Then she said, ''Zekiel, you leave the rest of it to me, and +we will all have some fun before we get through.' I expect she is going +to flirt with him, for it comes as nat'ral to her as it does to most +women." + +Quincy did not think it polite to assent to this last remark and changed +the subject by remarking, "This is a beautiful day. I am going to drive +the nurse over to Eastborough; perhaps Miss Mason would like to +accompany us. That is, if you can trust her with me." + +"Oh, that's all right," said 'Zekiel; "Huldy had to pay pretty dearly +for getting mad at the wrong time. Besides, I don't think she will want +to drive horse again for a while." + +Mandy rapped on the parlor door and called out that the team was ready. + +Quincy assured 'Zekiel that he understood his part and would play it to +the best of his ability. + +When he arrived at Deacon Mason's house he found the latter just coming +out of the front gate. As Quincy leaped from the team the Deacon came +forward and shook hands with him. "You are just the man I want to see," +he remarked. "I've paid our doctor, but I want to know what the bill is +for the Boston doctor and the nurse." + +"I don't know yet," said Quincy, "but there will be nothing for you to +pay. It is my duty to settle that bill myself." + +"No," said the Deacon firmly. "She is my daughter, and it is my place as +her father to pay such bills, until she has a husband to pay them for +her." + +Quincy said, "Deacon Mason, when I took your daughter out to ride it was +my duty to return her to her home without injury. I did not do so, and I +trust that you will allow me to atone for my neglect. Remember, sir, you +have lost her services for several weeks, and the board of the nurse has +been an expense to you." + +"I prefer," rejoined the Deacon, "that the bill should be sent to me." + +"Well," said Quincy, to close the discussion, "I will ask him to send +you one;" mentally resolving, when it was sent, it would be a receipted +one. + +Quincy received a hearty welcome from Mrs. Mason, who said the nurse had +her things packed and was all ready to go. He then told Mrs. Mason that +he had a message for Miss Mason from Mr. 'Zekiel Pettengill, and Mrs. +Mason said she would send Huldy to the parlor at once. Huldy greeted +Quincy with a happy face and without any show of confusion. + +"I had a long talk with Mr. Pettengill," said Quincy, "and he has +induced me to become a conspirator. The first act in our comedy is to +ask you if you will ride over to Eastborough Centre this morning with +the nurse and myself, and get a little fresh air?" + +"I should be delighted," said Huldy, "if you can wait long enough for me +to dress." + +"That's what I came early for," remarked Quincy. "How long will it take +you?" + +"Fifteen minutes," said Huldy. + +"It is now half-past seven," remarked Quincy, looking at his watch. "You +mean you will be ready by quarter of nine?" + +"No," said Huldy, with a flash of her eyes, "I am no city lady. I am a +plain, country girl, and I mean just one-quarter of an hour. You can +time me, Mr. Sawyer;" and she ran gayly out of the room. + +Quincy looked out of the window and saw that Hiram had put the nurse's +heavy valise on the front seat of the carryall. The nurse herself was +standing by the side of the team, evidently uncertain which seat to +take. Quincy was quickly at her side. + +"You can sit in here, Miss Miller," said Quincy, pointing to one of the +rear seats; and when she was seated Quincy told Hiram to put the valise +on the seat beside her. He had no idea of having Huldy take a back seat. + +True to her promise, Huldy made her toilet in the appointed time, and +taking her seat beside Quincy, he took up the reins. Turning to Hiram he +asked, "If I drive by Hill's grocery and take the road to the left, will +it bring me round to the main road to Eastborough Centre again?" + +"Yaas," said Hiram, "you take the road where Mis' Hawkins's boardin' +house is on the corner. You remember that big yellow house. You know I +told you Mandy's mother kept it." + +"All right," said Quincy, and off they went. + +Quincy gave a side glance at Huldy. He discovered she was throwing a +side glance at him. They both smiled, but said nothing. He drove around +the big tree that stood in the centre of the square in front of the +grocery, which brought the team quite close to the store platform. No +one was in sight, but just as he reached Mrs. Hawkins's boarding house +the door opened and Obadiah Strout came out. Huldy placed her hand on +Quincy's arm. + +"Please hold up a minute, Mr. Sawyer." + +Quincy brought the horse to a standstill with a jerk and looked straight +ahead. + +"Ah, good morning, Mr. Strout," said Huldy. "Did you get the letter I +sent up by Hiram last evening about my taking music lessons?" + +"Yes," said Mr. Strout, "and I was coming down this morning to settle on +the best time for you taking them." + +"Could you come to-morrow afternoon from two to three?" asked Huldy. + +Strout took a well-worn memorandum book from his pocket and consulted +it. "Three to four would be the best I could do," said he, "for I have a +lesson from half-past one to half-past two." + +"That will do just as well," replied Huldy. "Three to four to-morrow +afternoon. Isn't this a beautiful day, Mr. Strout? I am taking a little +drive for my health;" and she nodded smilingly to Strout, who had +recognized Quincy as her companion. + +"That's all, Mr. Sawyer," said Huldy, and they drove on. + +"By thunder," said Strout, "they say the hair of a dog is good for his +bite. Just as soon as she got well, off she goes riding again with the +same feller who tipped the team over and broke her arm. I guess 'Zeke +Pettengill's chances ain't worth much now. It beats all how 'Zeke can +let that feller board in his house, but I suppose he does it to let us +folks see that he don't care. Well, Huldy Mason is a bright little girl, +and I always liked her. That city chap don't mean to marry her, and if I +don't make the best of my chances when I get to teaching her music, my +name ain't Obadiah Strout, which I guess it is." And he walked across +the square to Hill's grocery to smoke his morning cigar. + +On the way to Eastborough Centre Quincy wondered what he would do with +Huldy when he arrived there. He did not care to take her to the +Poorhouse, and particularly he did not wish her to see his uncle. Quincy +was proud, but he was also sensible, and he decided upon a course of +action that would prevent any one from saying that his pride had made +him do a foolish act. + +As they neared the Poorhouse Quincy turned to Huldy and said, "The Jim +Sawyer who has been at the Eastborough Poorhouse for the last five years +is my father's brother and my uncle. His story is a very sad one. I will +tell it to you some day. He is in the last stages of consumption, and I +am taking Miss Miller over to care for him while he lives." + +Huldy nodded, and nothing more was said until they reached the +Poorhouse. Quincy jumped out and called to Sam, who was close at hand, +to hold the horse. Sam looked at him with a peculiar expression that +Quincy did not stop to fathom, but running up the short flight of steps +entered the room that served as the office for the Poorhouse. Mr. Waters +was there writing at his desk. He turned as Quincy entered. + +"How is my uncle?" asked Quincy. + +"He is better off than us poor mortals," replied Mr. Waters with a +long-drawn countenance. + +"What do you mean?" asked Quincy. "Is he dead?" + +"Yes," said Mr. Waters, "he died about four o'clock this mornin'. Sam +sat up with him till midnight, and I stayed with him the balance of the +time." + +"I am so sorry I was not here," said Quincy. + +"It wouldn't have done any good," said Waters. "He didn't know what was +going on after two o'clock, and you couldn't have been of any use if +you'd been here. If 't had been daytime I should have sent over for you. +He only spoke once after I went upstairs and that was to say that you +would see to buryin' him." + +"Yes," said Quincy, "I will take charge of the remains." + +"Well," remarked Mr. Waters, "I called in the town undertaker and he has +got him all ready." + +"When does the next train leave for Boston?" asked Quincy, taking out +his watch. + +"In just twenty minutes," Waters replied, looking up at the clock. + +"I will be back from Boston at the earliest possible moment," said +Quincy; and before the astonished Waters could recover himself, the +young man had left the room. + +Quincy jumped into the team, grasped the reins, and started off at full +speed for Eastborough Centre. + +"My uncle died this morning," said he, turning to Huldy, "I must go to +Boston at once to make the necessary arrangements for his funeral He is +to be buried at Amesbury with his wife and children, so please get word +to Mr. Pettengill that I shall not be home for several days. I will get +some one at the hotel to drive you home, Miss Mason. Only stern +necessity compels me to leave you in this way." + +"You will do nothing of the sort," said Huldy. "I am perfectly confident +that I am able to drive this team home all by myself." + +"I never can consent to it," said Quincy. "If anything happened to you, +your father and--" Huldy glanced at him. "I mean," said Quincy, "I +should never forgive myself, and your father would never forgive me. +Your arm is still weak, I know." + +"My arm is just as good as ever," said Huldy. "The doctor told me it +wouldn't break in that place again. Besides, Mr. Sawyer," she said, as +the hotel came in sight, "I shall drive back just the same way we came, +and there are no hills or sharp corners, you know." She laughed heartily +and added, "I shall enjoy it very much, it is part of the comedy." + +"Well," said Quincy in an undertone, "rebellious young woman, do as you +will, and bear the consequences. I will turn the team around so that you +won't have any trouble, and Hiram can take it down to Mr. Pettengill's +and deliver my message. Good-by," and he shook hands with her. + +"We will get out here, Miss Miller," said he, and he helped the nurse to +alight. Grasping the heavy valise, he started at a brisk pace for the +station, and Miss Miller was obliged to run in order to keep up with +him. They boarded the train and took their seats. The train was ahead of +time and waited for a few minutes at the station. + +Quincy did not know as he sped towards Boston on his sad errand that +Miss Lindy Putnam was in the second car behind him, bound to the same +place. Nor did he know for several days that Abner Stiles, who drove her +to the station, had seen Huldy driving towards Mason's Corner. Nor did +he know that Strout had told Abner of his seeing Huldy and Sawyer +together. Nor did he know that Abner whipped up his horse in a vain +attempt to overtake Huldy on her return to Mason's Corner. She, too, had +whipped up her horse and had reached home, and was in the house, calling +for Hiram, just as Abner turned into the square by Hill's grocery. + +Quincy made the necessary purchases, and with the city, undertaker +returned to Eastborough Centre by the noon train. The body was placed in +a leaden casket and Quincy and the undertaker with their sad burden +returned to Boston by the five o'clock express. + +His mother and sisters were still in New York, but he passed the evening +with his father, who approved of all he had done and what he proposed +doing. + +Quincy went to Amesbury and purchased a small lot in the cemetery. After +a day's search he discovered the place of burial of his uncle's wife and +children. They were disinterred, and the four bodies were placed in the +little lot. + +On his return to Boston he made arrangements for two plain marble stones +for his uncle and aunt, and two smaller ones for his little cousins, +whom he had never seen. + +The directions that he left with the monument maker and the undertaker +at Amesbury were followed to the letter. If one should pass by that +little lot he would see on one marble slab these words: + + Eunice Raymond Sawyer, + Aged 29 yrs., 6 mos. + +On the little slab at her feet the simple words: + + Mary, Aged 4 yrs., 2 mos. + +At its side another little stone bearing only these words: + + Ray, Aged 6 yrs., 8 mos. + +Adhering strictly to his uncle's request, the other large stone bore no +name, but on it were engraved these words: + + In Heaven we Know our Own. + + + + +CHAPTER XX. + +A WET DAY. + + +When Quincy alighted from the train at Eastborough Centre, after +attending his uncle's funeral, he found the rain descending in torrents. +He hired a closed carriage and was driven to Mason's Corner, arriving +there about ten o'clock. He had taken his breakfast in Boston. + +When he reached the Pettengill house he saw Hiram standing at the barn +door. Bidding the driver stop, he got out and paid his score; he then +took Hiram by the arm and led him into the barn. When he had primed the +latter with a good cigar, he said, "Now, Hiram, I've been away several +days and I want to know what has been going on. You know our agreement +was that you should tell me the whole truth and nothing but the truth. I +don't want you to spare my feelings nor anybody else's. Do you +understand?" said he to Hiram. Hiram nodded. "Then go ahead," said +Quincy. + +"Well, first," said Hiram, puffing his cigar with evident satisfaction, +"they got hold of the point that Miss Huldy drove back alone from +Eastborough Centre. Abner Stiles took Lindy Putnam down to the station +and she went to Boston on the same train that you did. Abner tried to +catch up with Huldy, so he could quiz her, but she whipped up her horse +and got away from him." + +"Smart girl!" interjected Quincy. + +"You can just bet," said Hiram, "there ain't a smarter one in this town, +though, of course, I think Mandy is pretty smart, too." + +"Mandy's all right," said Quincy; "go ahead." + +"Well, secondly, as the ministers say," continued Hiram, "Lindy Putnam +told Abner when he drove her home from the station that night that the +copper company that Mr. Sawyer told her to put her money in had busted, +and she'd lost lots of money. That's gone all over Mason's Corner, and +if Abner told Asa Waters, it's all over Eastborough Centre by this +time." + +"The whole thing is a lie," said Quincy hotly; "the stock did go down, +but my father told me yesterday it had rallied and would soon advance +from five to ten points. What's the next confounded yarn?" + +"Well, thirdly," continued Hiram, "of course everybody knows Jim Sawyer +was your uncle, and somebody said--you can guess who--that it would look +better if you would pay up his back board instead of spending so much +money on a fancy funeral and cheating the town undertaker out of a job." + +"I paid him for all that he did," said Quincy. + +"Yes," said Hiram, "but this is how it is. You see the undertaker makes +a contract with the town to bury all the paupers who die during the year +for so much money. They averaged it up and found that about three died a +year, so the town pays the undertaker on that calculation; but this +year, you see, only two have died, and there ain't another one likely to +die before town meeting day, which comes the first Monday in March, so, +you see the undertaker gets paid for buryin' your uncle, though he +didn't do it, and some one says--you can guess who--that he is going to +bring the matter up in town meeting." + +Quincy smothered an exclamation and bit savagely into his cigar. + +"Anything else?" inquired he. "Have they abused the ladies as well as +me?" + +"No," said Hiram; "you see somebody--you know who--is giving Huldy music +lessons and he will keep quiet about her anyway; but he says he can't +understand how 'Zeke Pettengill can let you board in his house and go +out riding with Huldy, unless things is up between 'Zeke and Huldy." + +"Well, I guess that's about the size of it," said Quincy. "Now, for +instance, Hiram, you and Mandy are good friends, aren't you?" + +"Yes," said Hiram, "after we get over our little difficulties we are." + +"Well," said Quincy, "I happen to know that 'Zekiel and Huldy have got +over their little difficulties and they are now good friends." + +"Been't they going to get married?" asked Hiram. + +"Are you and Mandy going to get married?" asked Quincy. + +"Well, we haven't got so far along as to set the day exactly," said +Hiram. + +"And I don't believe 'Zekiel and Huldy will get married any sooner than +you and Mandy will," remarked Quincy. "But don't say a word about this, +Hiram." + +"Mum's the word," replied Hiram. "I am no speaker, but I hear a thing or +two." + +"Now, Hiram," said Quincy, "run in and tell Mandy I'll be in to lunch as +usual, and then come back, for I have something more to say to you." + +Hiram did as directed, and Quincy sat and thought the situation over. So +far he had been patient and he had borne the slings and arrows hurled at +him without making any return. The time had come to change all that, and +from now on he would take up arms in his own defence, and even attack +his opponents. + +When he had reached this conclusion, Hiram reappeared and resumed his +seat on the chopping block. + +Quincy asked, "In what regiment did the singing-master go to war?" + +"The same one as I did,--th Mass.," replied Hiram. + +"Did you go to war?" inquired Quincy. + +"Well, I rather guess," said Hiram. "I went out as a bugler; he was a +corporal, but he got detailed for hospital duty, and we left him behind +before we got where there was any fightin'." + +"Was he ever wounded in battle?" asked Quincy. + +"One of the sick fellers in the hospital gave him a lickin' one day, but +I don't suppose you'd call that a battle," remarked Hiram. + +"Well, how about that rigmarole he got off down to the grocery store +that morning?" Quincy interrogated. + +"Oh, that was all poppycock," said Hiram. "He said that just to get even +with you, when you were telling about your grandfathers and +grandmothers." + +Quincy laughed. + +"Oh, I see," said he. "Were you ever wounded in battle, Hiram?" + +"Well, I was shot onct, but not with a bullet." + +"What was it," said Quincy, "a cannon ball?" + +"No," said Hiram. "I never was so thunderin' mad in my life. When I go +to regimental reunions the boys just joke the life out of me. You see I +was blowin' my bugle for a charge, and the boys were goin' ahead in +great style, when a shell struck a fence about twenty feet off. The +shell didn't hit me, but a piece of that darned fence came whizzin' +along and struck me where I eat, and I had a dozen stummick aches inside +o' half a minute. I just dropped my bugle and clapped my hands on my +stummick and yelled so loud that the boys told me afterwards that they +were afraid I had busted my bugle." + +Quincy laid back in his chair and laughed heartily. + +"What do the boys say to you when you go to the reunions?" he asked. + +"They tell me to take a little whiskey for my stummick's sake," said +Hiram, "and some of them advise me to put on a plaster, and, darn 'em, +they always take me and toss me in a blanket every time I go, and onct +they made me a present of a bottleful of milk with a piece of rubber +hose on top of it. They said it would be good for me, but I chucked it +at the feller's head, darn him." + +Quincy had another good laugh. Then he resumed his usual grave +expression and asked, "What town offices does the singing-master hold?" + +"Well," said Hiram, "he is fence viewer and hog reeve and pound keeper, +but the only thing he gets much money out of is tax collector. He gets +two per cent on about thirty thousand dollars, which gives him about ten +dollars a week on an average, 'cause he don't get no pay if he don't +collect." + +"Did he get a big vote for the place?" asked Quincy. + +"No," said Hiram "he just got in by the skin of his teeth; he had last +town meetin' two more votes than Wallace Stackpole, and Wallace would +have got it anyhow if it hadn't been for an unfortunate accident." + +"How was that?" asked Quincy. + +"Well, you see," said Hiram, "two or three days before town meetin' +Wallace went up to Boston. He got an oyster stew for dinner, and it made +him kinder sick, and some one gave him a drink of brandy, and I guess +they gave him a pretty good dose, for when he got to Eastborough Centre +they had to help him off the train, 'cause his legs were kinder weak. +Well, 'Bias Smith, who lives over to West Eastborough, he is the best +talker we've got in town meetin'. He took up the cudgels for Wallace, +and he just lammed into those mean cusses who'd go back on a man 'cause +he was sick and took a little too much medicine. But Abner Stiles,--you +know Abner,--well, he's the next best talker to 'Bias Smith,--he stood +up and said he didn't think it was safe to trust the town's money to a +man who couldn't go to Boston and come home sober, and that pulled over +some of the fellers who'd agreed to vote for Wallace." + +"Has the tax collector performed his duties satisfactorily?" asked +Quincy. + +"Well," said Hiram, "Wallace Stackpole told me the other day that he +hadn't got in more than two-thirds of last year's taxes. He said the +selectmen had to borrow money and there'd be a row at the next town +meetin'." + +"Well," said Quincy, rising, "I think I will go in and get ready for +lunch. I had a very early breakfast in Boston." + +"Did you have oyster stew?" asked Hiram. + +"No," replied Quincy, "people who live in Boston never eat oyster stews +at a restaurant. If they did there wouldn't be enough left for those +gentlemen who come from the country." + +He opened the door and Hiram grasped his arm. + +"By Gosh! I forgot one thing," he cried. "You remember Tilly James, that +played the pianner at the concert?" + +"Yes," said Quincy, "and she was a fine player, too." + +"Well," said Hiram, "she's engaged to Sam Hill, you know, down to the +grocery store. That ain't all, old Ben James, her father, he's a +paralytic, you know, and pretty well fixed for this world's goods, and +he wants Benoni to sell out his grocery when Tilly gets married and come +over and run the farm, which is the biggest one in the town, and I heerd +Abner Stiles say to 'Manuel Howe, that he reckoned he--you know who I +mean--would get some fellers to back him up and he'd buy out the grocery +and get 'p'inted postmaster. I guess that's all;" and Hiram started off +towards Deacon Mason's. + +Quincy went to his room and prepared for the noonday meal. While doing +so he mentally resolved that the singing-master would not be the next +tax collector if he could prevent it; he also resolved that the same +party would not get the grocery store, if he had money enough to outbid +him; and lastly he felt sure that he had influence enough to prevent his +being appointed postmaster. + +Quincy met Ezekiel at lunch. He told Quincy that everything was working +smoothly; that the singing-master evidently thought he had the field all +to himself. He said Huldy and Alice were old friends, and Huldy was +coming over twice a week to see Alice, and so he shouldn't go up to +Deacon Mason's very often. + +"Where is Miss Pettengill?" said Quincy. + +"Well," replied Ezekiel, "she isn't used to heavy dinners at noon, so +she had a lunch up in her room. I am going over to West Eastborough this +afternoon with the boys to see some cows that 'Bias Smith has got to +sell. The sun is coming out and I guess it will be pleasant the rest of +the day." + +"'Bias Smith?" asked Quincy. + +"His name is Tobias," said Ezekiel, "but everybody calls him 'Bias." + +"I have heard of him," said Quincy. "You just mention my name to him, +Mr. Pettengill, and say I am coming over some day with Mr. Stackpole to +see him." + +'Zekiel smiled. "Going to take a hand yourself?" asked he. + +"Yes," said Quincy, "the other fellow has been playing tricks with the +pack so long that I think I shall throw down a card or two myself, and I +may trump his next lead." + +"By the way," said 'Zekiel, "while you were away Uncle Ike had our piano +tuned and fixed up. It hasn't been played since Alice went to Boston +five years ago. But the tuner who came from Boston said it was just as +good as ever. So if you hear any noise underneath you this afternoon you +will know what it means." + +"Music never troubles me," said Quincy, "I play and sing myself." + +"Well, I hope you and Alice will have a good time with the piano," +remarked 'Zekiel as he left the room. + +Quincy went back to his room and wrote a letter to a friend in Boston, +asking him to get a certified copy of the war record of Obadiah Strout, +Corporal --th Mass. Volunteers, and send it to him at Eastborough Centre +as soon as possible. It was many days before that letter reached its +destination. + +He then sat down in his favorite armchair and began thinking out the +details of his aggressive campaign against the singing-master. He had +disposed of his enemy in half a dozen pitched battles, when the sound of +the piano fell upon his ear. + +She was playing. He hoped she was a good musician, for his taste in that +art was critical. He had studied the best, and he knew it when he heard +it sung or played. The piano was a good one, its tone was full and +melodious, and it was in perfect tone. + +He listened intently. He looked and saw that he had unintentionally left +the door of his room ajar. The parlor door, too, must be open partly, or +he could not have heard so plainly. What was that she was playing? Ah! +Mendelssohn. Those "Songs Without Words" were as familiar to him as the +alphabet. Now it is Beethoven, that beautiful work, "The Moonlight +Sonata," she was evidently trying to recall her favorites to mind, for +of course she could not be playing by note. Then she strayed into a +"valse" by Chopin, and followed it with a dashing galop by some unknown +composer. "She is a classical musician," said Quincy to himself, as the +first bars of a Rhapsodic Hongroise by Liszt fell upon his ear. "I hope +she knows some of the old English ballads and the best of the popular +songs," thought Quincy. + +As if in answer to his wish she played that sterling old song, "Tis but +a Little Faded Flower," and Quincy listened with pleasure to the pure, +sweet, soprano voice that rang out full and strong and seemed to reach +and permeate every nook and corner in the old homestead. + +Quincy could stand it no longer. He stepped quietly to his door, opened +it wide, and listened with delight to the closing lines of the song. + +Then she sang that song that thrilled the hearts of thousands of English +soldiers in the Crimea on the eve of the battle of Inkermann, "Annie +Laurie," and it was with difficulty that Quincy refrained from joining +in the chorus. Surely Annie Laurie could have been no purer, no sweeter, +no more beautiful, than Alice Pettengill; and Quincy felt that he could +do and die for the girl who was singing in the parlor, as truly as would +have the discarded suitor who wrote the immortal song. + +But Quincy was destined to be still more astonished. Alice played a +short prelude that seemed familiar to him, and then her voice rang out +the words of that beautiful duet that Quincy had sung with Lindy Putnam +at the singing-master's concert. Yes, it was Jewell's "Over the Bridge." +This was too much for Quincy. He went quietly down the stairs and looked +in at the parlor door, which was wide open. Alice was seated at the +piano, and again the sun, in its westward downward course, shone in at +the window, and lighted up her crown of golden hair. This time she had +reversed the colors which she evidently knew became her so well, and +wore a dress of light pink, while a light blue knitted shawl, similar to +its pink companion, lay upon the chair beside her. + +When she reached the duet Quincy did not attempt to control himself any +further, but joined in with her, and they sang the piece together to the +end. + +Alice turned upon the piano stool, faced the door and clapped her hands. + +"That was capital, Mr. Sawyer. I didn't know that you sang so well. In +fact, I didn't know that you sang at all." + +"How did you know it was I?" said Quincy, as he advanced towards her. +"It is a little cool here, Miss Pettengill. Allow me to place your shawl +about you;" and, suiting the action to the word, he put it gently over +her shoulders. + +"Yes," said Alice, "I put it on when I first came down. It interfered +with my playing and I threw it into the chair." + +"May I take the chair, now that it is unoccupied?" he asked. + +"Yes," said Alice, "if you will give me your word of honor that you did +not try to make me think it was cold: here, so that you could get the +chair." + +Quincy replied with a laugh, "If I did my reward is a great return for +my power of invention, but I assure you I was thinking of your health +and not of the chair, when I tendered my services." + +"You are an adept in sweet speeches, Mr. Sawyer. You city young men all +are; but our country youth, who are just as true and honest, are at a +great disadvantage, because they cannot say what they think in so +pleasing a way." + +"I hope you do not think I am insincere," remarked Quincy, gravely. + +"Not at all," said Alice, "but I have not answered your question. How +did I know that it was you? You must remember, Mr. Sawyer, that those +who cannot see have their hearing accentuated, and the ear kindly sends +those pictures to the brain which unfortunately the eye cannot supply." + +"I have enjoyed your playing and singing immensely," said Quincy. "Let +us try that duet again." + +They sang it again, and then they went from piece to piece, each +suggesting her or his favorite, and it was not till Mandy's shrill voice +once more called out with more than usual force and sharpness, "Supper's +ready," that the piano was closed and Quincy, for the first time taking +Alice's hand in his, led her from the parlor, which was almost shrouded +in darkness, into the bright light of the dining-room, where they took +their accustomed seats. They ate but little, their hearts were full of +the melody that each had enjoyed so much. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +SOME MORE NEW IDEAS. + + +When Ezekiel and Cobb's twins returned from West Eastborough, they said +the air felt like snow. Mandy had kept some supper for them. Ezekiel +said they had supper over to Eastborough Centre, but the home cooking +smelled so good that all three sat down in the kitchen and disposed of +what Mandy had provided. + +The other members of the Pettengill household were in their respective +rooms. Uncle Ike was reading a magazine. Alice had not retired, for +Mandy always came to her room before she did so to see that her fire was +all right for the night. Alice was a great lover of music and she had +enjoyed the afternoon almost as much as Quincy had. She could not help +thinking what musical treats might be in store for them, and then the +thought came to her how she would miss him when he went back to Boston. + +In the next room, Quincy was pursuing a similar line of thought. He was +thinking of the nice times that Alice and he could have singing +together. To be sure he wished to do nothing to make his father angry, +for Quincy appreciated the power of money. He knew that with his +mother's third deducted, his fathers estate would give him between two +and three hundred thousand dollars. He had some money in his own right +left him by a fond aunt, his father's sister, the income from which gave +him a good living without calling upon his father. + +He knew his father wished him to become a lawyer, and keep up the old +firm which was so well known in legal and business circles, but Quincy +in his heart realized that he was not equal to it, and the future had +little attraction for him, if it were to be passed in the law offices of +Sawyer, Crowninshield, & Lawrence. At any rate his health was not fully +restored and he determined to stay at Mason's Corner as long as he could +do so without causing a break in the friendly relations existing between +his father and himself. His present income was enough for his personal +needs, but it was not sufficient to also support a Mrs. Quincy Adams +Sawyer. + +What Ezekiel had prophesied came true. No one knew just when the storm +began, but the picture that greeted Mandy Skinner's eyes when she came +down to get breakfast was a great contrast to that of the previous day. + +The snow had fallen steadily in large, heavy flakes, the road and the +fields showed an even, unbroken surface of white; the tops of the taller +fences were yet above the snow line, each post wearing a white cap. As +the morning advanced the storm increased, the wind blew, and great +drifts were indications of its power. The thick clouds of white flakes +were thrown in every direction, and only dire necessity, it seemed, +would be a sufficient reason for leaving a comfortable fireside. + +Mandy and Mrs. Crowley were busily engaged in preparing the morning +meal, when a loud scratching at a door, which led into a large room that +was used as an addition to the kitchen, attracted their attention. In +bounded Swiss, the big St. Bernard dog belonging to Uncle Ike. At Uncle +Ike's special request Swiss had not been banished to the barn or the +wood-shed, but had been allowed to sleep on a pallet in the corner of +the large room referred to. + +Swiss was a great favorite with Mandy, and he was a great friend of +hers, for Swiss was very particular about his food, and he had found +Mandy to be a much better cook than Uncle Ike had been; besides the +fare was more bounteous at the Pettengill homestead than down at the +chicken coop, and Swiss had gained in weight and strength since his +change of quarters. + +After breakfast Uncle Ike came into the kitchen and received a warm +welcome from Swiss. Uncle Ike told Mandy and Mrs. Crowley the well-known +story of the rescues of lost travellers made by the St. Bernard dogs on +the snow-clad mountains of Switzerland. When Mrs. Crowley learned that +Swiss had come from a country a great many miles farther away from +America than Ireland was, he rose greatly in her estimation and she made +no objection to his occupying a warm corner of the kitchen. + +About noon, when the storm was at its very worst, Mandy, who was looking +out of the kitchen window, espied something black in the road about +halfway between Deacon Mason's and the Pettengill house. She called Mrs. +Crowley to the window and asked her what she thought it was. + +"That's aisy," said Mrs. Crowley, "It's a man coming down the road." + +"What can bring a man out in such a storm as this?" asked Mandy. + +"Perhaps he is going for the docther," remarked Mrs. Crowley. + +"Then he would be going the other way," asserted Mandy. + +"He's a plucky little divil anyway," said Mrs. Crowley. + +"That's so," said Mandy. "He is all right as long as he keeps on his +feet, but if he should fall down--" + +At that moment the man did fall down or disappear from sight. Mandy +pressed her face against the window pane and looked with strained eyes. +He was up again, she could see the dark clothing above the top of the +snow. + +What was that! A cry? The sound was repeated. + +"I do believe the man is calling for help," cried Mandy. + +She rushed to the kitchen door and opened it. A gust of snow swept into +the room, followed by a stream of cold, chilling air. Swiss awoke from +his nap and lifted, his head. Despite the storm, Mandy stood at the door +and screamed "Hello!" with her sharp, strident voice. Could she believe +her ears? Through the howling storm came a word uttered in a voice which +her woman's heart at once recognized. The word was "Mandy," and the +voice was Hiram's. + +"What on earth is he out in this storm for?" said Mandy to herself. She +called back in response, "Hello! Hello! Hello!" and once more her own +name was borne to her through the beating, driving storm. + +She shut the door and resumed her post at the window. Hiram was still +struggling manfully against the storm and had made considerable +progress. + +Mandy turned to Mrs. Crowley and said, "Mr. Maxwell is coming, Mrs. +Crowley." + +"More fool he," remarked Mrs. Crowley, "to be out in a storm like this." + +"Get some cider, Mrs. Crowley," said Mandy, "and put it on the stove. He +will need a good warm drink when he gets here." + +"If he was a son of mine he'd get a good warmin'," said Mrs. Crowley, as +she went down cellar to get the cider. + +Mandy still strained her eyes at the window. The dark form was still +visible, moving slowly through the snow. At that moment a terrific storm +of wind struck the house; it made every window and timber rattle; great +clouds of snow were swept up from the ground to mingle with those coming +from above, and the two were thrown into a whirling eddy that struck the +poor traveller and took him from his feet, covering him from sight. +Mandy rushed to the door and opened it. This time she did not scream +"Hello." The word this time was "Hiram! He is lost! He is lost!" she +cried. "His strength has given out; but what shall I do? I could not +reach him if I tried. Oh, Hiram! Hiram!" and the poor girl burst into +tears. She would call Mr. Pettengill; she would call Cobb's twins; she +would call Mr. Sawyer; one of them would surely go to his assistance. + +She turned, and to her surprise found Swiss by her side, looking up at +her with his large, intelligent eyes. Quick as lightning, Uncle Ike's +story came back to her mind. She patted Swiss on the head, and pointed +out into the storm. + +Not another word was needed. With a bound Swiss went into the snow and +rapidly forward in the direction of the road. Mandy was obliged to close +the door again and resume her place at the window. How her heart beat! +How she watched the dog as he ploughed his way through the drifts? He +must be near the place. Yes, he is scratching and digging down into the +snow. Now the dark form appears once more. Yes, Hiram is on his feet +again and man and dog resume their fight with the elements. + +It seemed an age to Mandy, but it was in reality not more than five +minutes, before Hiram and Swiss reached the kitchen door and came into +the room. + +"Come out into the back room," said Mandy to Hiram. "I don't want this +snow all over my kitchen floor." So Hiram and Swiss were taken into the +big room and in a short time came back in presentable condition. + +"Now, Mr. Maxwell, if you have recovered the use of your tongue, will +you kindly inform me what sent you out in such a storm as this?" + +"Well," replied Hiram, "I reckoned I'd git down kinder early in the +mornin' and git back afore dark." + +"That's all right," said Mandy; "but that don't tell me what you are out +for, anyway." + +"Well, you didn't suppose," said Hiram, "that I could go all day long +without seein' you, did yer, Mandy?" + +Mrs. Crowley chuckled to herself and went into the side room. Even Swiss +seemed to recognize that two were company and he followed Mrs. Crowley +and resumed his old resting place in the corner on the pallet. + +As Mrs. Crowley went about her work, she chuckled again, and said to +herself, "It's a weddin' I'll be goin' to next time in place of a +funeral." + +Upstairs other important events were taking place. Quincy had gone to +his room directly after breakfast, and looked out upon the wild scene of +storm with a sense of loneliness that had not hitherto oppressed him. +Why should he be lonely? Was he not in the same house with her, with +only a thin wall of wood and plaster between them? Yes, but if that wall +had been of granite one hundred feet thick, it could not have shut him +off more effectually from seeing her lovely face and hearing her sweet +voice. + +There came a sharp rap at the door. + +"Come in," called out Quincy. + +"Ah!" said Uncle Ike as he entered, "I am glad to see you have a good +fire. The snow has blown down into Alice's room and her fire is out. +Will you let her step in here for a few moments, Mr. Sawyer, until 'Zeke +and I get the room warm again?" + +"Why, certainly," replied Quincy. "I am only too happy--" + +But Uncle Ike was off, and returned in a few moments leading Alice. +Quincy placed a chair for her before the fire. This cold wintry day she +wore a morning dress of a shade of red which, despite its bright color, +seemed to harmonize with the golden hair and to take the place of the +sun, which was not there to light it up. + +"If Miss Pettengill prefers," said Quincy, "I can make myself +comfortable in the dining-room, and she can have my room to herself." + +He had started this speech to Uncle Ike, who left the room abruptly in +the middle of it, and Quincy's closing words fell on Alice's ears alone. + +"Why, certainly not," said Alice; "sit down, Mr. Sawyer, and we will +talk about something. Don't you think it is terrible?" As Quincy was +contemplating his fair visitor, he could hardly be expected to say "yes" +to her question. "Perhaps you enjoy it?" said she. + +"I certainly do," answered Quincy, throwing his whole heart into his +eyes. + +"Well, I must differ with you," said Alice. "I never did like snow." + +"Oh, you were talking about the weather!" remarked Quincy. + +"Why, yes," said Alice. "What else did you think I was talking about?" + +Quincy, cool and self-possessed as he invariably was, was a trifle +embarrassed. + +Turning to Alice he said, "I see, Miss Pettengill, that I must make you +a frank statement in order that you may retain your respect for me. I +know you will pardon me for not hearing what you said, and for what I am +about to say; but the fact is, I was wondering whether you have had the +best advice and assistance that the medical science of to-day can afford +you as regards your eyes." + +"It is very kind of you, Mr. Sawyer, to think of me, and my trouble, and +I will answer you in the same friendly way in which you have spoken. I +was taken sick one morning just as I was eating my breakfast I never +felt better in my life than I did that morning, but the pain in my side +was so intense, so agonizing, that by the time I reached my room and +threw myself on the bed, physically I was a complete wreck. A doctor was +called at once and he remained with me from eight o'clock until noon +before I became comfortable. I thought I was going to get better right +off, or I should have written to 'Zekiel. Two other attacks, each more +severe than the one preceding, followed the first, and I was so sick +that writing, or telling any one else what to write, or where to write, +was impossible. Then I began slowly to recover, but I was very weak and +what made me feel worse than ever was the fact that the trouble with my +eyes, which before my illness I had attributed to nearsightedness, was +now so marked that I could not see across the room. I could not even see +to turn a spoonful of medicine from a bottle on the table beside my bed. +The Pettengills, Mr. Sawyer, are a self-reliant race, and I concluded in +my own mind that the trouble with my eyes was due to my illness, and +that when I recovered from that, they would get well; but they did not. +I was able, physically, to resume my work, but I could not see to read +or write. I sent for my employer and told him my condition. He advised +me to consult an oculist at once. In fact, he got a carriage and took me +to one himself. The oculist said that the treatment would require at +least three months; so my employer told me I had better come home, and +that when I recovered I could have my place back again. He is a fine, +generous-hearted man and I should be very miserable if I thought I was +going to lose my place." + +"But what did the oculist say was the trouble with your eyes?" Quincy +asked. + +"He didn't tell me," replied Alice. "He may have told my employer. He +gave me some drops to put in my eyes three times a day; and a little +metal tube with a cover to it like the top of a pepper box; on the other +end is a piece of rubber tubing, with a glass mouthpiece attached to it" + +"How do you use that?" asked Quincy. + +Alice continued, "I hold the pepper box in front of my wide-opened eye; +then I put the glass mouthpiece in my mouth and blow, for a certain +length of time. I don't know how long it is. It seems as though a +thousand needles were driven into my eyeball. The drops make me cry; +but the little tube brings the tears in torrents." + +"Isn't that harsh treatment?" asked Quincy, as he looked at the +beautiful blue but sightless eyes that were turned towards him. + +"No," said Alice with a laugh, "the pain and the tears are like an April +shower, for both soon pass away." + +At this moment Uncle Ike entered the room and Ezekiel's steps were heard +descending the stairs. Uncle Ike said, "We have got it started and +'Zeke's gone down to bring up a good stock of wood. If you have no +objection, Mr. Sawyer, I will sit down here a few minutes. Don't let me +interrupt your conversation." + +"I hope you will take a part in it," said Quincy. "You put a lot of new +ideas into my head the first time I came to see you, and perhaps you may +have some more new ones for me to-day. Miss Pettengill was just saying +she would feel miserable if she lost her situation." + +"I have no doubt of it," said Uncle Ike. "The Pettengills are not afraid +to work. If a man is obliged to earn his living by the sweat of his +brow, I don't see why woman shouldn't do the same thing." + +"But the home is woman's sphere," said Quincy. + +"Bosh!" cried Uncle Ike. + +"Why, Uncle!" cried Alice. + +"Oh, Mr. Sawyer understands me!" said Uncle Ike. "In the Middle Ages, +when women occupied the highest position that has fallen to her lot +since the days of Adam, the housework was done by menials and scullions. +Has the world progressed when woman is pulled down from her high estate +and this life of drudgery is called her sphere? Beg your pardon, Mr. +Sawyer, but there should be no more limit fixed to the usefulness of +woman than there is to the usefulness of man." + +"But," persisted Alice, "I don't think Mr. Sawyer means that exactly. +He means a woman should stay at home and look after her family." + +"Well," said Uncle Ike, "so should the man. I am inclined to think if +the father spent more time at home, it would be for the advantage of +both sons and daughters." + +"But," said Quincy, "do you think it is for the best interests of the +community that woman should force her way into all branches of industry +and compete with man for a livelihood?" + +"Why not?" said Uncle Ike. "In the old days when they didn't work, for +they didn't know how and didn't want to, because they thought it was +beneath them, if a man died, his wife and children became dependent upon +some brother or sister or uncle or aunt, and they were obliged to +provide for them out of their own small income or savings. In those days +it was respectable to be genteelly poor, and starve rather than work and +live on the fat of the land. Nothing has ever done so much to increase +the self-respect of woman, and add to her feeling of independence, as +the knowledge of the fact that she can support herself." Alice bowed her +head and covered her eyes with her hand. "There's nothing personal in +what I say," said Uncle Ike. "I am only talking on general principles." + +Quincy yearned to say something against Uncle Ike's argument, but how +could he advance anything against woman's work when the one who sat +before him was a workingwoman and was weeping because she could not +work? There was one thing he could do, he could change the subject to +one where there was an opportunity for debate. So he said, "Well, Mr. +Pettengill, I presume if you are such an ardent advocate of woman's +right or even duty to work, that you are also a supporter of her right +to vote." + +"That does not follow," replied Uncle Ike. "To be self-reliant, +independent, and self-supporting is a pleasure and a duty, and adds to +one's self-respect. As voting is done at the present day, I do not see +how woman can take part in it and maintain her self-respect. +Improvements no doubt will be made in the manner of voting. The ballot +will become secret, and the count will not be disclosed until after the +voting is finished. The rum stores will be closed on voting day and an +air of respectability will be given to it that it does not now possess. +It ought to be made a legal holiday." + +"Granted," said Quincy, "but what has that to do with the question of +woman's right to vote?" + +"Woman has no inherent right to vote," said Uncle Ike. "The ballot is a +privilege, not a right. Why, I remember reading during the war that +young soldiers, between eighteen and twenty-one years of age, claimed +the ballot as a right, because they were fighting for their country. If +voting is a right, what argument could be used against their claim?" + +"I remember," added Quincy, "that they argued that 'bullets should win +ballots.' Do you think any one should vote who cannot fight?" asked +Quincy. + +"If he does not shirk his duty between eighteen and forty-five," said +Uncle Ike, "he should not be deprived of his ballot when he is older; +but the question of woman's voting does not depend upon her ability to +fight. The mother at home thinking of her son, the sister thinking of +her brother, the wife thinking of her husband, are as loyally fighting +for their native land as the soldiers in the field, and no soldier is +braver than the hospital nurse, who, day after day and night after +night, watches by the bedsides of the wounded, the sick, and the dying. +No, Mr. Sawyer, it is not a question of fighting or bravery." + +During the discussion Alice had dried her eyes and was listening to her +uncle's words. She now asked a question, "When will women vote, Uncle?" + +"When it is deemed expedient for them to do so," replied Uncle Ike. "The +full privilege will not be given all at once. They will probably be +allowed to vote on some one matter in which they are deeply interested. +Education and the rum question are the ones most likely to be acted upon +first. But the full ballot will not come, and now I know Alice will +shake her head and say, 'No!' I repeat it--the full ballot will not come +for woman until our social superstructure is changed. Woman will not +become the political equal of man until she is his social and industrial +equal; and until any contract of whatever nature made by a man and a +woman may be dissolved by them by mutual consent, without their becoming +criminals in the eye of the law, or outcasts in the eyes of society." + +At this moment Ezekiel looked in the door and said, "Alice's room is +nice and warm now." Advancing, he took her hand and led her from the +room. Uncle Ike thanked Quincy for his kindness and followed them. +Quincy sat and thought. The picture that his mind drew placed the woman +who had just left his room in a large house, with servants at her +command. She was the head of the household, but no menial nor scullion. +She did not work, because he was able and willing to support her. She +did not vote, because she felt with him that at home was her sphere of +usefulness; and then Quincy thought that what would make this possible +was money, money that not he but others had earned, and he knew that +without this money the question could not be solved as his mind had +pictured it; and he reflected that all women could not have great houses +and servants and loving husbands to care for them, and he acknowledged +to himself that his solution was a personal, selfish one and not one +that would answer for the toiling million's of the working world. + + + + +CHAPTER XXII. + +AFTER THE GREAT SNOWSTORM. + + +Mandy was, of course, greatly pleased inwardly because Hiram had come +through such a great storm to see her, but, woman-like, she would not +show it. + +So she said to Hiram, "Your reason is a very good one, and of course I +am greatly flattered, but there must be something else besides that. +Now, what have you got to tell me?" + +"Well, the fact is, Mandy, I've got two things on my mind. One of 'em is +a secret and t'other isn't. I meant to have told you yesterday; but Mr. +Sawyer kept me busy till noon, and the Deacon kept me busy all the +afternoon, and I was too tired to come over last night." + +"Well," said Mandy, "tell me the secret first. If the other one has kept +so long it won't spoil if it's kept a little longer." + +Hiram had kept his eyes on the stove since taking his seat, and he then +remarked, "I am afraid that cider will spoil unless I get a drink of it +pretty soon." + +"Well, I declare," cried Mandy, "if I didn't forget to give it to you, +after sending Mrs. Crowley down stairs for it, when you was out there in +the road." + +"That's all right," said Hiram, as he finished the mugful she passed +him, and handed it back to be refilled. "That sort o' limbers a feller's +tongue a bit. Well, the secret is," said Hiram, lowering his voice, +"that when Huldy saw me gettin' ready to go out, sez she, 'Where are you +goin'?' 'Over to Mr. Pettengill's,' sez I. Then sez she, 'Will you wait +a minute till I write a note?' 'Certainly,' sez I. And when she brought +me the note, sez she, 'Please give that to Mr. Pettengill and don't let +anybody else see it.' Then sez I to her, 'No, ma'am;' but I sez to +myself, 'Nobody but Mandy.'" And Hiram took from an inside pocket an +envelope, addressed to Mr. Ezekiel Pettengill, and showed it to Mandy. +Then he put it back quickly in his pocket. + +"Well, what of that?" asked Mandy. "That's no great secret." + +"Well, not in itself," said Hiram; "but I am willing to bet a year's +salary agin a big red apple that those two people have made up and are +engaged reg'lar fashion." + +"You don't say so," cried Mandy, "what makes you think so?" + +"Well, a number of things," said Hiram. "I overheard the Deacon say to +Huldy, 'It will be pretty lonesome for us one of these days,' and then +you see Mrs. Mason, she is just as good as pie to me all the time, and +that shows something has pleased her more than common; and then you see +Huldy has that sort of look about her that girls have when their +market's made, and they feel so happy that they can't help showing it. +You see, Mandy, I'm no chicken. I've had lots of experience." + +What Mandy might have said in reply to this remark will never be known, +for at this juncture Ezekiel entered the room and passed through on his +way to the wood-shed. + +"Now's my time," said Hiram, and he arose and followed him out. + +Ezekiel was piling up some wood which he was to take to Alice's room, +when Hiram came up beside him and slyly passed him the note. Then Hiram +looked out of the wood-shed window at the storm, which had lost none of +its fury, while Ezekiel read the note. + +"Are you going home soon?" asked Ezekiel. + +"Well, I guess I'll try it again," said Hiram, "as soon as I get warm +and kinder limbered up." + +"I guess I'll go back with you," said Ezekiel. "We will take Swiss with +us; two men and a dog ought to be enough for a little snowstorm like +this." + +"You won't find it a little one," said Hiram, "when you get out in the +road, but I guess the three on us can pull through." + +Ezekiel went upstairs with the wood and Hiram resumed his seat before +the kitchen fire. + +"What did I tell you?" said Hiram to Mandy. "'Zeke's going back with me. +She has writ him to come over and see her. Now you see if you don't lose +your apple." + +"I didn't bet," said Mandy; "but what was that other thing you were +going to tell me that was no secret?" + +"Oh, that's about another couple," said Hiram. "Tilly James is engaged." + +"Well, it's about time," said Mandy. "Which one of them?" + +"Samuel Hill," replied Hiram, "and she managed it fust rate. You know +the boys have been flocking round her for more than a year. Old Ben +James, her pa, told me he'd got to put in a new hitchin' post. You see, +there has been Robert Wood and 'Manuel Howe and Arthur Scates and Cobb's +twins and Ben Bates and Sam Hill, but Samuel was the cutest one of the +lot." + +"Why, what did he do that was bright?" asked Mandy. + +"Well," replied Hiram, "you see, Tilly sot down and writ invites to all +the boys that had been sparkin' 'round her to come to see her the same +night. She gave these invites to her brother Bill to deliver. Well, Sam +Hill met him, found out what he was about, and kinder surmised what it +all meant. Wall, the night came 'round and Sam Hill was the only one +that turned up at the time app'inted. After talkin' about the weather, +last year's crops, and spring plantin', Sam just braced up and proposed, +and Tilly accepted him on the spot." + +"Where were the other fellers?" asked Mandy. "I always surmised that she +thought more of Ben Bates than she did of Sam Hill." + +"Well, it didn't come out till a couple of days afterwards," said Hiram. +"You see, the shortest way to old James's place is to go over the mill +race, and all of the fellers but Sam Hill went that way, and the joke of +it was that they all fell over into the river and got a duckin'." + +"Well," said Mandy, "they must have been drinking. Tilly is well rid of +the whole lot of them. Why, I've walked over that log time and time +again." + +"Well, they hadn't been drinkin'," said Hiram. "You see it was pretty +dark and they didn't get on to the fact that the log was greased till it +was kinder too late to rectify matters." + +"And did Sam Hill do that?" asked Mandy. + +"He did," said Hiram; and he burst into a loud laugh, in which Mandy +joined. + +The laughing was quickly hushed as the kitchen door opened and Ezekiel +entered, warmly dressed for his fight with the snow and carrying a heavy +cane in his hand. + +"Call the dog, Hiram," said Ezekiel, "and we'll start. Mandy, tell Jim +and Bill to come over to Deacon Mason's for me about four o'clock, +unless it looks too bad; if it does they needn't try it till to-morrow +morning." + +"All ready," said he to Hiram, who was patting Swiss's head, and off +they started. + +Again Mandy went to the window and watched the progress of the +travellers. Mrs. Crowley came into the kitchen and seeing Mandy at the +window quietly turned out a mug of the hot cider and drank it. She then +approached Mandy and said, "What was all the laughin' about? I like a +good joke myself." + +Mandy said, "Oh, he was telling me about a girl that invited all her +fellers to come and see her the same evening, and only one of them got +there because he greased the log over the mill race, and all the rest of +them fell into the water." + +"It was a mane trick," said Mrs. Crowley. "Now, when all the boys were +after me, for I was a good lookin' girl once, Pat Crowley, he was me +husband, had a fight on hand every night for a fortnight and all on +account of me; and they do say there were never so many heads broken in +the County of Tipperary on account of one girl since the days of St. +Patrick." + +Mandy had paid but little attention to Mrs. Crowley's speech. She was +too busy watching the travellers. Mrs. Crowley filled and emptied the +mug once more. + +The last potation was too much for her equilibrium, and forgetting the +step that led from the kitchen to the side room, she lost her balance +and fell prone upon the floor. Her loud cries obliged Mandy to turn from +the window, but not until she had seen that the travellers had reached +the fence before Deacon Mason's house, and she knew they were safe for +the present. Mrs. Crowley was lifted to her feet by Mandy. The old woman +declared that she was "kilt intirely," but Mandy soon learned the cause +of the accident, and returning to the kitchen closed the door and +continued her morning duties. + +Before Ezekiel left the house he had interrupted Quincy's meditations by +knocking on his door, and when admitted told him that he had had a +letter from Huldy. + +"She is kind of lonesome," he said, "and wants me to come over to see +her." + +"But it is a terrible storm," said Quincy, looking out of the window. + +"Oh," said Ezekiel, "we'll be all right! Hiram is going with me, and we +are going to take Swiss along with us. Now, Mr. Sawyer, I am going to +ask you to do me and Alice a favor. Uncle Ike is upstairs busy reading, +and if you will kinder look out for Alice till I get back I shall be +greatly obliged." + +Quincy promised and Ezekiel departed. + +Quincy thought the fates had favored him in imposing upon him such a +pleasant task. But where was she, and what could he do to amuse her? +Then he thought, "We can sing together as we did yesterday." + +He went down stairs to the parlor, thinking she might be there, but the +room was empty. The fire was low, but the supply of wood was ample, and +in a short time the great room was warm and comfortable. Quincy seated +himself at the piano, played a couple of pieces and then sang a couple; +he did not think while singing the second song that he had possibly +transcended propriety, but when he sang the closing lines of "Alice, +Where Art Thou?" it suddenly dawned upon him, and, full of vexation, he +arose and walked to the window and looked out upon the howling storm. + +Suddenly he heard a sweet voice say, "I am here." And then a low laugh +reached his ear. + +Turning, he saw Alice standing in the middle of the room, while Mandy's +retreating figure showed who had been her escort. Her brother Ezekiel +had rigged a bell wire from her room to the kitchen, so that she could +call Mandy when she needed her assistance. + +"I beg your pardon, Miss Pettengill," said Quincy, advancing towards +her. "The song has always been a favorite of mine, but I never thought +of its personal application until I reached the closing words. I trust +you do not think I was so presuming as to--" + +Alice smiled and said, "The song is also a favorite one of mine, Mr. +Sawyer, and you sang it beautifully. No apologies are needed, for the +fact is I was just saying to myself, 'Mr. Sawyer, where are you?' for +'Zekiel told me that he was going to speak to you and ask you to help me +drive away those lonesome feelings that always come to me on a day like +this. I cannot see the storm, but I can hear it and feel it." + +As Quincy advanced towards her he saw she held several sheets of paper +in her hand. + +"I am at your service," said he. "I am only afraid that your +requirements will exceed my ability." + +"Very prettily spoken," said Alice, as Quincy led her to a seat by the +fire, and took one himself. "I am going to confess to you," said she, +"one of my criminal acts. I am going to ask you to sit as judge and mete +out what you consider a suitable punishment for my offence." + +"What crime have you committed?" asked Quincy gravely. + +Alice laughed, shook the papers she held in her hand, and said, "I have +written poetry." + +"The crime is a great one," said Quincy. "But if the poetry be good it +may serve to mitigate your sentence. Are those the evidences of your +crime you hold in your hand, Miss Pettingill?" + +"Yes," she answered, as she passed a written sheet to him; "I wrote them +before my eyes failed me. Perhaps you will find it hard to read them. +Which one is that?" she asked. + +"It is headed, 'On the Banks of the Tallahassee,'" replied Quincy. + +"Oh!" cried Alice, "I didn't write that song myself. A gentleman friend, +who is now dead, was the author of it. But he couldn't write a chorus +and he asked me to do it for him. The idea of the chorus is moonlight on +the river." + +"Shall I read it?" asked Quincy. + +"Only the chorus part, if you please," replied Alice, "and be as lenient +as you can, good Mr. Judge, for that was my first offence." + +Quincy, in a smooth, even voice, read the following words: + + The moon's bright rays, + In a silver maze, + Fall on the rushing river; + Each ray of light + Like an arrow white + Drawn from a crystal quiver. + They romp and play, + In a wond'rous way, + On tree and shrub and flower; + And fill the night + With a radiant light, + That falls like a silver shower. + +"You do not say anything," said Alice, as Quincy finished reading and +remained silent. + +He replied, "You have conferred judicial functions upon me and a judge +does not give his opinion until the evidence is all in." + +"Ah! I see," said Alice. "My knowledge of metrical composition," she +continued, "is very limited. What I know of it I learned from an old +copy of Fowler's Grammar that I bought at Burnham's on School Street +soon after I went to Boston. I have always called what you just read a +poem. Is it one?" she asked, looking up with a smile. + +"I think it is," replied Quincy, "and," he added inadvertently, "a very +pretty one, too." + +"Oh! Mr. Judge," laughing outright "you have given aid and comfort to +the prisoner before the evidence was all in." + +And Quincy was forced to laugh heartily at the acuteness she had shown +in forcing his opinion from him prematurely." + +"Now, this one," said Alice, "I call a song. I know which one it is by +the size and thickness of the paper." And she handed him a foolscap +sheet. + +Quincy took it and glanced over it a moment or two before he spoke, +Alice leaning forward and listening intently for the first sound of his +voice. Then Quincy uttered those ever pleasing words, "Sweet, Sweet +Home," and delivered, with great expression, the words of the song. + +"You read it splendidly," cried Alice, with evident delight. "Would it +be presuming on your kindness if I asked you to read the refrain and +chorus once more, Mr. Sawyer?" + +"I shall enjoy reading it again myself," remarked Quincy, as he +proceeded to comply with Alice's pleasantly worded request. + + REFRAIN: + + There is no place like home, they say, + No matter where it be; + The lordly mansion of the rich, + The hut of poverty. + The little cot, the tenement, + The white-winged ship at sea; + The heart will always seek its home, + Wherever it may be. + + CHORUS: + + Sweet, sweet home! + To that sweet place where youth was passed our thoughts will turn; + Sweet, sweet home! + Will send the blood to flaming face, and hearts will burn. + Sweet, sweet home! + It binds us to our native land where'er we roam, + No land so fair, no sky so blue, + As those we find when back we come to sweet, sweet home! + +"Of course you know that lovely song, 'Juanita'?" said Alice. + +"Certainly," said Quincy, and he sang the first line of the chorus. + +Alice's voice joined in with his, and they finished the chorus together. +A thrill went through Quincy as he sang the last line, and he was +conscious that his voice quivered when he came to the words, "Be my own +fair bride." + +"You sing with great expression," said Alice, "If you like these new +words that I have written to that old melody we can sing them together. +I have called it Loved Days. I think this is the one," she said, as she +passed him several small sheets pinned together. + +"It is," said Quincy, as he took the paper and read it slowly. + +As before, he said nothing when he had finished. + +"Mr. Judge," said Alice, "would it be improper, from a judicial point of +view, for me to ask you which lines in the song you have just read +please you the most? But perhaps," said she, looking up at him, "none of +them are worthy of repetition." + +"If you will consider for a moment," replied Quincy, "that I am off the +bench and am just sitting here quietly with you, I will say, +confidentially, that I am particularly well pleased with this;" and he +read a portion of the first stanza: + + On Great Heaven's beauties, + Gaze the eyes I loved to see, + Done earth's weary duties, + Now, eternity. + +"And," continued Quincy, "I think these lines from the second stanza are +fully equal to those I have just read." + + But my soul, still living, + Speaks its words of comfort sweet, + Grandest promise giving + That again we'll meet. + +"I should think," continued Quincy, "that those words were particularly +well suited to be sung at a funeral. I shall have to ask my friend +Bradley to have his quartette learn them, so as to be ready when I need +them." + +"Oh! Mr. Sawyer," cried Alice, with a strong tone of reproof in her +voice, "how can you speak so lightly of death?" + +"Pardon me," replied Quincy, "if I have unintentionally wounded your +feelings, but after all life is only precious to those who have +something to live for." + +"But you certainly," said Alice, "can see something in life worth living +for." + +"Yes," assented Quincy, "I can see it, but I am not satisfied in my own +mind that I shall ever be able to possess it." + +"Oh, you must work and wait and hope!" cried Alice. + +"I shall be happy to," he said, "if you will be kind and say an +encouraging word to me, so that I may not grow weary of the battle of +life." + +"I should be pleased to help you all I can," she said sweetly. + +"I shall need your help," Quincy remarked gravely, and then with a quick +change in tone he said playfully, "I think it is about time for the +judge to get back upon the bench." + +"This," said Alice, as she passed him a manuscript enclosed in a cover, +"is my capital offence. If I escape punishment for my other +misdemeanors, I know I shall not when you have read this." And she +handed him the paper. + +Quincy opened it and read, The Lord of the Sea, a Cantata. + +CHARACTERS. + +Canute, the Great, King of England and Denmark. +A Courtier. +An Irish Harper. +Queen Emma, the "Flower of Normandy." +Courtiers, Monks, and Gleemen. + +PLACE. + +Part I.--The palace of the king. +Part II.--The seashore at Southampton. +Time--About A.D. 1030. + +As he proceeded with the reading he became greatly interested in it. He +had a fine voice and had taken a prize for oratory at Harvard. + +When he finished he turned to Alice and said, "And you wrote that?" + +"Certainly," said she. "Can you forgive me?" + +Quincy said seriously, "Miss Pettengill, that is a fine poem; it is +grand when read, but it would be grander still if set to music. I can +imagine," Quincy continued, "how those choruses would sound if sung by +the Handel and Haydn Society, backed up by a full orchestra and the big +organ." And he sang, to an extemporized melody of his own, the words: + + God bless the king of the English, + The Lord of the land, + The Lord of the sea! + +"I can imagine," said he, as he rose and stood before Alice, "King +Canute as a heavy-voiced basso. How he would bring out these words! + + Great sea! the land on which I stand, is mine; + Its rocky shores before thy blows quail not. + Thou, too, O! sea, are part of my domain, + And, like the land, must bow to my command. + I'll sit me here! rise not, nor dare to touch, + With thy wet lips, the ermine of my robe! + +"And," cried he, for the moment overcome by his enthusiasm, "how would +this sound sung in unison by five hundred well-trained voices? + + For God alone is mighty, + The Lord of the sea, + The Lord of the land! + For He holds the waves of the ocean + In the hollow of His hand, + And the strength of the mightiest king + Is no more than a grain of sand. + For God alone is mighty, + The Lord of the sea, + The Lord of the land!" + +As Quincy resumed his seat, Alice clapped her hands to show her +approbation of his oratorical effort. Then they both sat in silence for +a few minutes, each evidently absorbed in thought. + +Suddenly Alice spoke: + +"And now, Mr. Sawyer, will you let me ask you a serious question? If I +continue writing pieces like these, can I hope to earn enough from it to +support myself?" + +Quincy thought for a moment, and then said, "I am afraid not. If you +would allow me to take them to Boston the next time I go I will try and +find out their market value, but editors usually say that poetry is a +drug, and they have ten times as much offered them as they can find room +for. On the other hand, stories, especially short ones, are eagerly +sought and good prices paid for them. Did you ever think of writing a +story, Miss Pettengill?" + +"Oh, yes!" said Alice, "I have several blocked out, I call it, in my own +mind, but it is such a task for me to write that I dare not undertake +them. If I could afford to pay an amanuensis it would be different." + +Quincy comprehended the situation in a moment. "I like to write, Miss +Pettengill," said he, "and time hangs heavily upon my hands. We are +likely to have a long spell of winter weather, during which I shall be +confined to the house as well as yourself. Take pity on me and give my +idle hands something to do." + +"Oh, it would be too much to ask," said Alice. + +"But you have not asked," answered Quincy. "I have offered you my +services without your asking." + +"But when could we begin?" asked Alice, hesitatingly. + +"At once," replied Quincy. "I brought with me from Boston a half ream of +legal paper and a dozen good pencils. I can write faster and much better +with a pencil than I can with a pen, and as all legal papers have to be +copied, I have got into the habit of using pencils for everything." + +It took Quincy but a few minutes to go to his room and secure his paper +and pencils. He drew a table close to Alice's chair and sat down beside +her. + +"What is the name of the story?" asked he. + +Alice replied, "I have called it in my mind, 'How He Lost Both Name and +Fortune.'" + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII. + +A VISIT TO MRS. PUTNAM. + + +It must not be supposed that Alice's story was written out by Quincy in +one or even two days. The oldest inhabitants will tell you that the +great snowstorm lasted three days and three nights, and it was not till +the fourth day thereafter that the roads were broken out, so that safe +travel between Eastborough Centre and Mason's Corner became possible. + +The day after the storm the sad intelligence came to Quincy and Alice +that old Mr. Putnam had passed quietly away on the last day of the +storm. Quincy attended the funeral, and he could not help acknowledging +to himself that Lindy Putnam never looked more beautiful than in her +dress of plain black. The only ornament upon her was a pair of beautiful +diamond earrings, but she always wore them, and consequently they were +not obtrusive. + +Quincy bore an urgent request from Mrs. Putnam that Alice should come to +see her. As the story was finished and copied on the seventh day after +the storm, Quincy had the old-fashioned sleigh brought out and lined +with robes. Taking the horse Old Bill, that sleigh bells or snow slides +could not startle from his equanimity, Alice was driven to Mrs. +Putnam's, and in a few minutes was clasped to Mrs. Putnam's bosom, the +old lady crying and laughing by turns. + +Quincy thought it best, to leave them alone, and descending the stairs +he entered the parlor, the door being halfway open. He started back as +he saw a form dressed in black, seated by the window. + +"Come in, Mr. Sawyer," said Lindy. "I knew you were here. I saw you +when you drove up with Miss Pettengill. What a beautiful girl she is, +and what a pity that she is blind. I hope with all my heart that she +will recover her sight." + +"She would be pleased to hear you say that," remarked Quincy. + +"We were never intimate," said Lindy. "You can tell her from me, you are +quite the gallant chevalier, Mr. Sawyer, and what you say to her will +sound sweeter than if it came from other lips. Are you going to marry +her, Mr. Sawyer?" + +"I do not think that our acquaintance is of such long standing that you +are warranted in asking me so personal a question," replied Quincy. + +"Perhaps not," said Lindy, "but as I happened to know, though not from +your telling, that she is to be my mother's heiress, I had a little +curiosity to learn whether you had already proposed or were going--" + +"Miss Putnam," said Quincy sternly, "do not complete your sentence. Do +not make me think worse of you than I already do. I beg your pardon for +intruding upon you. I certainly should not have done so had I +anticipated such an interview." + +Lindy burst into a flood of tears. Her grief seemed uncontrollable. +Quincy closed the parlor door, thinking that if her cries and sobs were +heard upstairs it would require a double explanation, which it might be +hard for him to give. + +He stood and looked at the weeping girl. She had evidently known all +along who her mother's heiress was. She had been fooling him, but for +what reason? Was she in love with him? No, he did not think so; if she +had been she would have confided in him rather than have sought to force +him to confide in her. What could be the motive for her action? Quincy +was nonplussed. He had had considerable experience with society girls, +but they either relied upon languid grace or light repartee. They never +used tears either for offence or defence. + +A surprise was in store for Quincy. Lindy rose from her chair and came +towards him, her eyes red with weeping. + +"Why do you hate me so, Mr. Sawyer?" she asked. "Why will you not be a +friend to me, when I need one so much? What first turned you against +me?" + +Quincy replied, "I will tell you, Miss Putnam. They told me you were +ashamed of your father and mother because they were old-fashioned +country people and did not dress as well or talk as good English as you +did." + +"Who told you so?" asked Lindy. + +"It was common talk in the village," he replied. + +"I should think you had suffered enough from village gossip, Mr. Sawyer, +not to believe that all that is said is true." + +Quincy winced and colored. It was a keen thrust and went home. + +"Where there is so much smoke there must be some fire," he answered, +rather lamely, as he thought, even to himself. + +"Mr. Sawyer, when I asked you to tell me a little secret you had in your +possession, you refused. I wanted a friend, but I also wanted a proven +friend. No doubt I took the wrong way to win your friendship, but I am +going to tell you something, Mr. Sawyer, if you will listen to me, that +will at least secure your pity for one who is rich in wealth but poor in +that she has no friends to whom she can confide her troubles." + +Quincy saw that he was in for it, and like a gentleman, determined to +make the best of it, so he said, "Miss Putnam, I will listen to your +story, and if, after hearing it, I can honorably aid you I will do so +with pleasure." + +Lindy took his hand, which he had half extended, and said, "Come, sit +down, Mr. Sawyer. It is a long story, and I am nervous and tired," and +she looked down at her black dress. + +They sat upon the sofa, he at one end, she at the other. + +"Mr. Sawyer," she began abruptly, "I am not a natural-born child of Mr. +and Mrs. Putnam. I was adopted by them when but two years of age. I do +not know who my father and mother were. I am sure Mrs. Putnam knows, but +she will not tell me." + +[Illustration: "MRS. PUTNAM'S ANGER, UPON DISCOVERY OF LINDY'S +PARENTAGE." (ACT III.)] + +"It could do no harm now that you are a woman grown," said Quincy. + +"At first they both loved me," Lindy continued, "but a year after I came +here to live their son was born, and from that time on all was changed. +Mr. Putnam was never unkind to me but once, but Mrs. Putnam seemed to +take delight in blaming me, and tormenting me, and nagging me, until it +is a wonder that my disposition is as good as it is, and you know it is +not very good," said she to Quincy with a little smile. She resumed her +story: "I loved the little boy, Jones I always called him, and as we +grew up together he learned to love me and took my part, although he was +three years younger than myself. This fact made Mrs. Putnam hate me more +than ever. He stayed at home until he was twenty-two, then he went to +his father and mother and told them that he loved me and wished to marry +me. Both Mr. and Mrs. Putnam flew into a great rage at this. The idea of +a brother marrying his sister! They said it was a crime and a sacrilege, +and the vengeance of God would surely fall upon us both. Jones told them +he had written to a lawyer in Boston, and he had replied that there was +no law prohibiting such a marriage. 'But the law of God shines before +you like a flaming sword,' said Mrs. Putnam; and Mr. Putnam agreed with +her, for she had all his property in her possession." Quincy smiled. +"They packed Jones off to the city at once," said Lindy, "and his +mother gave him five thousand dollars to go into business with. Jones +began speculating, and he was successful from first to last. In three +months he paid back the five thousand dollars his mother had given him, +and he never took a dollar from them after that day. At twenty-six he +was worth one hundred thousand dollars. When I went to Boston I always +saw him, and he at last told me he could stand it no longer. Be wanted +me to marry him and go to Europe with him. I told him I must have a week +to think it over. If I decided to go I would be in Boston on a certain +day. I would bring my trunk and would stop at a certain hotel and send +word for him to come to me. I used all possible secrecy in getting my +clothes ready, and packed them away, as I thought, unnoticed, in my +trunk, which was in the attic. Mrs. Putnam must have suspected that I +intended to leave home, and she knew that I would not go unless to meet +her son. The day before I planned going to Boston, or rather the night +before, she entered my room while I was asleep, took every particle of +my clothing, with the exception of one house dress and a pair of +slippers, and locked me in. They kept me there for a week, and I wished +that I had died there, for when they came to me it was to tell me that +Jones was dead, and I was the cause of it. I who loved him so!" And the +girl's eyes filled with tears. + +"What was the cause of his death?" asked Quincy. + +"He was young, healthy, and careless," answered Lindy. "He took a bad +cold and it developed into lung fever. Even then he claimed it was +nothing and would not see a doctor. One morning he did not come to the +office, his clerk went to his room, but when the doctor was called it +was too late. It was very sad that he should die so, believing that I +had refused to go with him, when I would have given my life for him. He +loved me till death. He left me all his money, but in his will he +expressed the wish that I would never accept a dollar from his parents. +So now you see why Mrs. Putnam does not make me her heiress. You think I +hate Miss Pettengill because she is going to give it to her, but truly I +do not, Mr. Sawyer. What I said when you came in I really meant, and I +hope you will be happy, Mr. Sawyer, even as I hoped to be years ago." + +Quincy had been greatly interested in Lindy's story, and that feeling of +sympathy for the unhappy and suffering that always shows itself in a +true gentleman rose strongly in his breast. + +"Miss Putnam," said he, "I have wronged you both in thought and action, +but I never suspected what you have told me. Will you forgive me and +allow me to be your friend? I will try to atone in the future for my +misdoings in the past." + +He extended his hand, and Lindy laid hers in his. + +"I care not for the past," said she. "I will forget that. I have also to +ask for forgiveness. I, too, have said and done many things which I +would not have said or done, but for womanly spite and vanity. You see +my excuse is not so good as yours," said she, as she smiled through her +tears. + +"In what way can I serve you?" asked Quincy. "Why do you not go to +Boston and live? I could introduce you to many pleasant families." + +"What!" cried Lindy. "Me, a waif and a stray! You are too kind-hearted, +Mr. Sawyer. I shall not leave the woman every one but you thinks to be +my mother. When she is dead I shall leave Eastborough never to return. +My sole object in life from that day will be to find some trace of my +parents or relatives. Now it may happen that through Mrs. Putnam or Miss +Pettengill you may get some clew that will help me in my search. It is +for this that I wish a friend, and I have a presentiment that some day +you will be able to help me." + +Quincy assured her that if it lay in his power any time to be of +assistance to her, she could count upon him. + +"By the way, Miss Putnam," said he, "how did your investment with Foss & +Follansbee turn out? I heard a rumor that the stock fell, and you lost +considerable money." + +Lindy flushed painfully. "It did drop, Mr. Sawyer, but it rallied again, +as you call it, and when they sold out for me I made nearly five +thousand dollars; but," and she looked pleadingly up into Quincy's face, +"you have forgiven me for that as well as for my other wrong doings." + +"For everything up to date," said Quincy, laughing. + +At that instant a loud pounding was heard on the floor above. + +"Mrs. Putnam is knocking for you," said Lindy. "Miss Pettengill must be +ready to go home. Good-by, Mr. Sawyer, and do not forget your unhappy +friend." + +"I promise to remember her and her quest," said Quincy. + +He gave the little hand extended to him, a slight pressure and ran up +the stairs. As he did so he heard the parlor door close behind him. + +As they were driving home, Alice several times took what appeared to be +a letter from her muff and held it up as though trying to read it. +Quincy glanced towards her. + +"Mr. Sawyer, can you keep a secret?" asked Alice. + +"I have a big one on my mind now," replied Quincy, "that I would like to +confide to some one." + +"Why don't you?" asked Alice. + +"As soon as I can find a person whom I think can fully sympathize with +me I shall do so, but for the present I must bear my burden in silence," +said he. + +"I hope you Will not have to wait long before finding that sympathetic +friend," remarked Alice. + +"I hope so, too," he replied. "But I have not answered your question, +Miss Pettengill. If I can serve you by storing a secret with you, it +shall be safe with me." + +"Will you promise not to speak of it, not even to me?" she asked. + +"If you wish it I will promise," he answered. + +"Then please read to me what is written on that envelope." + +Quincy looked at the envelope. "It is written in an old-fashioned, +cramped hand," he said, "and the writing is 'confided to Miss Alice +Pettengill, and to be destroyed without being read by her within +twenty-four hours after my death. Hepsibeth Putnam.'" + +[Illustration: "QUINCY READING ALICE'S LETTER TO HER." (ACT III.)] + +"Thank you," said Alice simply, and she replaced the envelope in her +muff. + +Like a flash of lightning the thought came to Quincy that the letter to +be destroyed had some connection with the strange story so recently told +him by Lindy. He must take some action in the matter before it was too +late. Turning to Alice he said, "Miss Pettengill, if I make a strange +request of you, which you can easily grant, will you do it, and not ask +me for any explanation until after you have complied?" + +"You have worded your inquiry so carefully, Mr. Sawyer, that I am a +little afraid you, you being a lawyer, but as you have so graciously +consented to keep a secret with me, I will trust you and will promise to +comply with your request." + +"All I ask is," said Quincy, "that before you destroy that letter, you +will let me read to you once more what is written upon the envelope." + +"Why, certainly," said Alice, "how could I refuse so harmless a request +as that?" + +"I am greatly obliged for your kindness," said Quincy to her; but he +thought to himself, "I will find out what is in that envelope, if there +is any honorable way of doing so." + +Hiram came over to see Mandy that evening, and Mrs. Crowley, who was in +the best of spirits, sang several old-time Irish songs to them, Hiram +and Mandy joining in the choruses. They were roasting big red apples on +the top of the stove and chestnuts in the oven. Quincy, attracted by the +singing, came downstairs to the kitchen, and was invited to join in the +simple feast. He then asked Mrs. Crowley to sing for him, which she did, +and he repaid her by singing, "The Harp That Once Thro' Tara's Halls" so +sweetly that tears coursed down the old woman's cheeks, and she said, +"My poor boy Tom, that was killed in the charge at Balaklava, used to +sing just like that." + +Then the poor woman began weeping so violently that Mandy coaxed her off +to bed and left the room with her. + +When Hiram and Quincy were alone together, the latter said: "Any news, +Hiram?" + +"Not much," replied Hiram. "The snow is too deep, and it's too darned +cold for the boys to travel 'round and do much gossipin' this weather. A +notice is pasted up on Hill's grocery that it'll be sold by auction next +Tuesday at three o'clock in the afternoon. And I got on to one bit of +news. Strout and his friends are goin' to give Huldy Mason a surprise +party. They have invited me and Mandy simply because they want you to +hear all about it. But they don't propose to invite you, nor 'Zeke, nor +his sister." + +"Has Strout got anybody to back him up on buying the grocery store?" +asked Quincy. + +"Yes," said Hiram, "he has got two thousand dollars pledged, and I hear +he wants five hundred dollars more. He don't think the whole thing will +run over twenty-five hundred dollars." + +"How much is to be paid in cash?" Quincy inquired. + +"Five hundred dollars," said Hiram; "and that's what troubles Strout. +His friends will endorse his notes and take a mortgage on the store, for +they know it's a good payin' business. They expect to get their money +back with good interest, but it comes kinder hard on them to plunk down +five hundred dollars in cold cash." + +At that moment Mandy returned, and after asking her for a spoon and a +plate upon which to take a roast apple and some chestnuts upstairs, +Quincy left the young couple together. As he sat before the fire +enjoying his lunch, he resolved that he would buy that grocery store, +cost what it might, and that 'Zeke Pettengill, Alice, and himself would +go to that surprise party. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV. + +THE NEW DOCTOR. + + +Quincy improved the first opportunity offered for safe travelling to +make a visit to the city. He had several matters to attend to. First, he +had not sent his letter to his friend, requesting him to make inquiries +as to Obadiah Strout's war record, for the great snowstorm had come the +day after he had written it. Second, he was going to take Alice's story +to show to a literary friend, and see if he could secure its +publication. And this was not all; Alice had told him, after he had +finished copying the story she had dictated to him, that she had written +several other short stories during the past two years. + +In response to his urgent request, she allowed him to read her treasured +manuscripts. The first was a passionate love story in which a young +Spanish officer, stationed on the island of Cuba, and a beautiful young +Cuban girl were the principals. It was entitled "Her Native Land," and +was replete with startling situations and effective tableaus. Quincy was +delighted with it, and told Alice if dramatized it would make a fine +acting play. This was, of course, very pleasing to the young author. +Quincy was her amanuensis, her audience, and her critic, and she knew +that in his eyes she was already a success. + +She also gave him to read a series of eight stories, in a line usually +esteemed quite foreign to feminine instincts. Alice had conceived the +idea of a young man, physically weak and suffering from nervous +debility, being left an immense fortune at the age of twenty-one. His +money was well invested, and in company with a faithful attendant he +travelled for fifteen years, covering every nook and corner of the +habitable globe. At thirty-six he returned home much improved in health, +but still having a marked aversion to engaging in any business pursuit. +A mysterious case and its solution having been related to him, he +resolved to devote his income, now amounting to a million dollars +yearly, to amateur detective work. His great-desire was to ferret out +and solve mysteries, murders, suicides, robberies, and disappearances +that baffled the police and eluded their vigilant inquiry. + +The titles that Alice had chosen for her stories were as mysterious, in +their way, as the stories themselves. Arranged in the order of their +writing, they were: Was it Signed? The Man Without a Tongue; He Thought +He Was Dead; The Eight of Spades; The Exit of Mrs. Delmonnay; How I +Caught the Fire-Bugs; The Hot Hand; and The Mystery of Unreachable +Island. + +When Quincy reached the city, his first visit was to his father's +office, but he found him absent. He was told that he was conducting a +case in the Equity Session of the Supreme Court, and would not return to +the office that day. + +Instead of leaving his letter at his friend's office, he went directly +to the Adjutant-General's office at the State House. Here he found that +an acquaintance of his was employed as a clerk. He was of foreign birth, +but had served gallantly through the war and had left an arm upon the +battlefield. He made his request for a copy of the war record of Obadiah +Strout, of the --th Mass. Volunteers. Then a thought came suddenly to +him and he requested one also of the record of Hiram Maxwell of the same +regiment. + +Leaving the State House on the Hancock Avenue side, he walked down that +narrow but convenient thoroughfare, and was standing at its entrance to +the sidewalk on Beacon Street, debating which publisher he would call on +first, when a cheery voice said, "Hello, Sawyer." When he looked up he +saw an old Latin School and college chum, named Leopold Ernst. Ernst was +a Jew, but he had been one of the smartest and most popular of the boys +in school and of the men at Harvard. + +"What are you up to?" asked Ernst. + +"Living on my small fortune and my father's bounty," said Quincy. "Not a +very creditable record, I know, but my health has not been very good, +and I have been resting for a couple of months in the country." + +"Not much going on in the country at this time of the year I fancy," +remarked Ernst. + +"That's where you are wrong," said Quincy. "There has been the devil to +pay ever since I landed in the town, and I've got mixed up in so many +complications that I don't expect to get back to town before next +Christmas. But what are you doing, Ernst?" + +"Oh, I am in for literature; not the kind that consists in going round +with a notebook and prying into people's business, with a hope one day +of becoming an editor, and working twenty hours out of the twenty-four +each day. Not a bit of it, I am reader for ----;" and he mentioned the +name of a large publishing house. "I have my own hours and a comfortable +salary. I sit like Solomon upon the efforts of callow authors and the +productions of ripened genius. Sometimes I discover a diamond in the +rough, and introduce a new star to the literary firmament; and at other +times I cut up some egotistical old writer, who thinks anything he turns +out will be sure to please the public." + +"How fortunate that I have met you?" said Quincy. "I have in this little +carpet bag the first effusions of one of those callow authors of whom +you spoke. She is poor, beautiful, and blind." + +"Don't try to trade on my sympathies, old boy," said Ernst. "No person +who is poor has any right to become an author. It takes too long in +these days to make a hit, and the poor author is bound to die before +the hit comes. The 'beautiful' gag don't work with me at all. The best +authors are homelier than sin and it's a pity that their pictures are +ever published. As regards the 'blind' part, that may be an advantage, +for dictating relieves one of the drudgery of writing one's self, and +gives one a chance for a fuller play of one's fancies than if tied to a +piece of wood, a scratchy pen, and a bottle of thick ink." + +"Then you won't look at them," said Quincy. + +"I didn't say so," replied Ernst. "Of course, I can't look at them in a +business way, unless they are duly submitted to my house, but I have +been reading a very badly written, but mightily interesting manuscript, +for the past two days and a half, and I want a change of work or +diversion, to brush up my wits. Now, old fellow," said he, taking Quincy +by the arm, "if you will come up to the club with me, and have a good +dinner with some Chianti, and a glass or two of champagne, and a pousse +cafe to finish up with, then we will go up to my rooms on Chestnut +Street--I have a whole top floor to myself--we will light up our cigars, +and you may read to me till to-morrow morning and I won't murmur. But, +mind you, if the stories are mighty poor I may go to sleep, and if I do +that, you might as well go to bed too, for when I once go to sleep I +never wake up till I get good and ready." + +Quincy had intended after seeing a publisher to leave the manuscripts +for examination, then to take tea with his mother and sisters, and go +back to Eastborough on the five minutes past six express. But he was +prone to yield to fate, which is simply circumstances, and he accepted +his old college chum's invitation with alacrity. He could get the +opinion of an expert speedily, and that fact carried the day with him. + +When they were comfortably ensconced in their easy-chairs on the top +floor, and the cigars lighted, Quincy commenced reading. Leopold had +previously shown him his suite, which consisted of a parlor, or rather a +sitting-room, a library, which included principally the works of +standard authors and reference books, his sleeping apartment, and a +bathroom. + +There was a large bed lounge in the sitting-room, and Quincy determined +to read every story in his carpet bag, if it took him all night. He +commenced with the series of detective or mystery stories. He had read +them over before and was able to bring out their strong points +oratorically, for, as it has been said before, he was a fine speaker. + +Quincy eyed Ernst over the corner of the manuscript he was reading, but +the latter understood his business. Occasionally he was betrayed into a +nod of approval and several times shook his head in a negative way, but +he uttered no word of commendation or disapproval. + +After several of the stories had been read, Ernst called a halt, and +going to a cupboard brought out some crackers, cake, and a decanter of +wine, with glasses, which he put upon a table, and placed within +comfortable reach of both reader and listener. Then he said, "Go ahead," +munched a cracker, sipped his wine, and then lighted a fresh cigar. + +When the series was finished, Leopold said, "Now we will have some tea. +I do a good deal of my reading at home, and I don't like to go out again +after I have crawled up four flights of stairs, so my landlady sends me +up a light supper at just about this hour. There is the maid now," as a +light knock was heard on the door. + +Leopold opened it, and the domestic brought in a tray with a pot of tea +and the ingredients of a light repast, which she placed upon another +table near a window. + +"There is always enough for two," said Leopold. "Reading is mighty +tiresome work, and listening is too, and a cup of good strong tea will +brighten us both up immensely. You can come back for the tray in +fifteen minutes, Jennie," said Ernest. + +The supper was finished, the tray removed, and the critic sat in +judgment once more upon the words that fell from the reader's lips. +Leopold's face lighted up during the reading of "Her Native Land." He +started to speak, and the word "That's--" escaped him, but he recovered +himself and said no more, though he listened intently. + +Quincy took a glass of wine and a cracker before starting upon the story +which had been dictated to him. Leopold gave no sign of falling asleep, +but patted his hands lightly together at certain points in the story, +whether contemplatively or approvingly Quincy could not determine. As he +read the closing lines of the last manuscript the cuckoo clock struck +twelve, midnight. + +"You are a mighty good reader, Quincy," said Leopold, "and barring +fifteen minutes for refreshments, you have been at it ten hours. Now you +want my opinion of those stories, and what's more, you want my advice as +to the best place to put them to secure their approval and early +publication. Now I am going to smoke a cigar quietly and think the whole +thing over, and at half past twelve I will give you my opinion in +writing. I am going into my library for half an hour to write down what +I have to say. You take a nap on the lounge there, and you will be +refreshed when I come back after having made mince meat of your poor, +beautiful, blind _protege_." + +Leopold disappeared into the library, and Quincy stretching himself on +the lounge, rested, but did not sleep. Before he had realized that ten +minutes had passed, Leopold stood beside him with a letter sheet in his +hand, and said, "Now, Quincy, read this to me, and I will see if I have +got it down straight." + +Quincy's hand trembled nervously as he seated himself in his old +position and turning the sheet so that the light would fall upon it, he +read the following: + +Opinion of Leopold Ernst, Literary Critic, of certain manuscripts +submitted for examination by Quincy A. Sawyer, with some advice gratis. + +1. Series of eight stories. Mighty clever general idea; good stories +well written. Same style maintained throughout; good plots. Our house +could not handle them--not of our line. Send to ----. (Here followed the +name of a New York publisher.) I will write Cooper, one of their +readers. He is a friend of mine, and will secure quick decision, which, +I prophesy, will be favorable. + +2. "Her Native Land" is a fine story. I can get it into a weekly +literary paper that our house publishes. I know Jameson, the reader, +will take it, especially if you would give him the right to dramatize +it. He is hand and glove with all the theatre managers and has had +several successes. + +3. That story about the Duke, I want for our magazine. It is capital, +and has enough meat in it to make a full-blown novel. All it wants is +oysters, soup, fish, entrees, and a dessert prefixed to and joined on to +the solid roast and game which the story as now written itself supplies. + +In Witness Whereof, I have hereunto set my hand, this 24th day of +February, 186--. + +LEOPOLD ERNST, Literary Critic. + +Quincy remained all night with Leopold, sleeping on the bed lounge in +the sitting-room. He was up at six o'clock the next morning, but found +that his friend was also an early riser, for on entering the library he +saw the latter seated at his desk regarding the pile of manuscript which +Quincy had read to him. + +Leopold looked up with a peculiar expression on his face. + +"What's the matter," asked Quincy, "changing your mind?" + +"No," said Leopold, "I never do that, it would spoil my value as a +reader if I did. My decisions are as fixed as the laws of the Medes and +Persians, and are regarded by literary aspirants as being quite as +severe as the statutes of Draco; but the fact is, Quincy, you and your +_protege_--you see I consider you equally culpable--have neglected to +put any real name or pseudonym to these interesting stories. Of course I +can affix the name of the most popular author that the world has ever +known,--Mr. Anonymous,--but you two probably have some pet name that you +wish immortalized." + +"By George!" cried Quincy, "we did forget that. I will talk it over with +her, and send you the _nom de plume_ by mail. + +"Very well," said Leopold, rising. "And now let us go and have some +breakfast." + +"My dear fellow, you must excuse me. I have not seen my parents this +trip, and I ought to go up to the house and take breakfast with the +family." + +"All right," said Leopold, "rush that pseudonym right along, so I can +send the manuscripts to Cooper. And don't forget to drop in and see me +next time you come to the city." + +On his way to Beacon Street Quincy suddenly stopped and regarded a sign +that read, Paul Culver, M.D., physician and surgeon. He knew Culver, but +hadn't seen him for eight years. They were in the Latin School together +under _pater_ Gardner. He rang the bell and was shown into Dr. Culver's +office, and in a few minutes his old schoolmate entered. Paul Culver was +a tall, broad-chested, heavily-built young man, with frank blue eyes, +and hair of the color that is sometimes irreverently called, or rather +the wearers of it are called, towheads. + +They had a pleasant talk over old school days and college experiences, +which were not identical, for Paul had graduated from Yale College at +his father's desire, instead of from Harvard. Then Quincy broached what +was upper-most in his mind and which had been the real reason for his +call. He stated briefly the facts concerning Alice's case, and asked +Paul's advice. + +Dr. Culver salt for a few moments apparently in deep study. + +"My advice," said he, "is to see Tillotson. He has an office in the +Hotel Pelham, up by the Public Library, you know." + +"Is he a 'regular'?" asked Quincy. + +"Well," said Culver, "I don't think he is. For a fact I know he is not +an M.D., but I fancy that the diploma that be holds from the Almighty is +worth more to suffering humanity than a good many issued by the +colleges." + +"You are a pretty broad-minded allopath," said Quincy, "to give such a +sweeping recommendation to a quack." + +"I didn't say he was a quack," replied Culver. "He is a natural-born +healer, and he uses only nature's remedies in his practice. Go and see +him, Quincy, and judge for yourself." + +"But," said Quincy, "I had hoped that you--" + +"But I couldn't," broke in Paul. "I am an emergency doctor. If baby has +the croup, or Jimmy has the measles, or father has the lung fever, they +call me in, and I get them well as soon as possible. But if +mother-in-law has some obscure complaint I am too busy to give the time +to study it up, and they wouldn't pay me for it if I did. Medicine, like +a great many other things, is going into the hands of the specialists +eventually, and Tillotson is one of the first of the new school." + +At that moment a maid announced that some one wished to see Dr. Culver, +and Quincy took a hurried leave. + +He found his father, mother, and sisters at home, and breakfast was +quickly served after his arrival. They all said he was looking much +better, and all asked him when he was coming home. He gave an evasive +answer, saying that there were lots of good times coming down in +Eastborough and he didn't wish to miss them. He told his father he was +improving his time reading and writing, and would give a good account of +himself when he did return. + +He had to wait an hour before he could secure an interview with Dr. +Tillotson. The latter had a spare day in each week, that day being +Thursday, which he devoted to cases that he was obliged to visit +personally. Quincy arranged with him to visit Eastborough on the +following Thursday, and by calling a carriage managed to catch the +half-past eleven train for that town, and reached his boarding place a +little before two o'clock. He had arranged with the driver to wait for a +letter that he wished to have mailed to Boston that same afternoon. + +He went in by the back door, and as he passed through the kitchen, Mandy +made a sign, and he went to her. + +"Hiram waited till one o'clock," said she, "but he had to go home, and +he wanted me to tell you that the surprise party is coming off next +Monday night, and they are going to get there at seven o'clock, so as to +have plenty of time for lots of fun, and Hiram suspects," and her voice +fell to a whisper, "that Strout is going to try and work the Deacon for +that five hundred in cash to put up for the grocery store next Tuesday. +That's all," said she. + +"Where is Miss Pettengill?" Quincy inquired. + +"She's in the parlor," said Mandy. "She has been playing the piano and +singing beautifully, but I guess she has got tired." + +Quincy went directly to the parlor and found Alice seated before the +open fire, her right hand covering her eyes. + +She, looked up as Quincy entered the room and said, "I am so glad you've +got back, Mr. Sawyer. I have been very lonesome since you have been +away." + +Alice did not see the happy smile that spread over Quincy's face, and he +covered up his pleasure by saying, "How did you know it was I?" + +"Oh," said Alice, "my hearing is very acute. I know the step of every +person in the house. Swiss has been with me all the morning, but he +asked a few minutes ago to be excused, so he could get his dinner." + +Quincy laughed, and then, said, "Miss Pettengill, we forgot a very +important matter in connection with your stories; we omitted to put on +the name of the author." He told her of his meeting with Ernst, and what +had taken place, and Alice was delighted. Quincy did not refer to the +coming visit of Dr. Tillotson, for he did not mean to speak of it until +the day appointed arrived. "Now, Miss Pettengill, I have some letters to +write to send back by the hotel carriage, so that they can be mailed +this afternoon. While I am doing this you can decide upon your +pseudonym, and I will put it in the letter that I am going to write to +Ernst." + +Quincy went up to his room and sat down at his writing table. The first +letter was to his bankers, and enclosed a check for five hundred +dollars, with a request to send the amount in bills by Adams Express to +Eastborough Centre, to reach there not later than noon of the next +Tuesday, and to be held until called for. The second letter was to a +prominent confectioner and caterer in Boston, ordering enough ice cream, +sherbet, frozen pudding, and assorted cake for a party of fifty persons, +and fifty grab-bag presents; all to reach Eastborough Centre in good +order on Monday night on the five minutes past six express from Boston. +The third letter was to Ernst. It was short and to the point. "The +pseudonym is--." And he left a blank space for the name. Then he signed +his own. He glanced over his writing table and saw the three poems that +Alice had given him to read. He added a postscript to his letter to +Ernst. It read as follows: + +"I enclose three poems written by the same person who +wrote the stories. Tell me what you think of them, and if +you can place them anywhere do so, and this shall be your +warrant therefor. Q.A.S." + +When his mail was in readiness he went downstairs to the parlor, taking +a pen and bottle of ink with him, and saying to himself, "That pseudonym +shall not be written in pencil." + +"I am in a state of hopeless indecision," remarked Alice. "I can think +of Christian names that please me, and surnames that please me, but when +I put them together they don't please me at all." + +"Then we will leave it to fate," said Quincy. He tore a sheet of paper +into six pieces and passed three, with a book and pencil, to Alice. "Now +you write," said he, "three Christian names that please you, and I will +write three surnames that please me; then we will put the pieces in my +hat, and you will select two and what you select shall be the name." + +"That's a capital idea," said Alice, "it is harder to select a name than +it was to write the story." + +The slips were written, placed in the hat, shaken up, and Alice selected +two, which she held up for Quincy to read. + +"This is not fair," said Quincy. "I never thought. Both of the slips are +mine. We must try again." + +"No," said Alice, "it is 'Kismet.' What are the names?" she asked. + +"Bruce Douglas, or Douglas Bruce, as you prefer," said Quincy. + +"I like Bruce Douglas best," replied Alice. + +"I am so glad," said Quincy, "that's the name I should have selected +myself." + +"Then I will bear your name in future," said Alice, and Quincy thought +to himself that he wished she had said those words in response to a +question that was in his mind, but which he had decided it was not yet +time to ask her. He was too much of a gentleman to refer in a joking +manner to the words which Alice had spoken and which had been uttered +with no thought or idea that they bore a double meaning. + +Quincy wrote the selected name in the blank space in Leopold's letter, +sealed it and took his mail out to the carriage driver, who was seated +in the kitchen enjoying a piece of mince pie and a mug of cider which +Mandy had given him. + +As Quincy entered the kitchen he heard Mandy say, "How is 'Bias +nowadays?" + +"Oh, dad's all right," said the young man; "he is going to run Wallace +Stackpole again for tax collector against Obadiah Strout." + +"Is your name Smith?" asked Quincy, advancing with the letters in his +hand. + +"Yes," replied the young man, "my name is Abbott Smith. My dad's name is +'Bias; he is pretty well known 'round these parts." + +"I have heard of him," said Quincy, "and I wish to see him and Mr. +Stackpole together. Can you come over for me next Wednesday morning and +bring Mr. Stackpole with you? I can talk to him going back, and I want +you to drive us over to your father's place. Don't say anything about it +except to Mr. Stackpole and your father, but I am going to take a hand +in town politics this year." + +The young man laughed and said, "I will be over here by eight o'clock +next Wednesday." + +"I wish you would have these letters weighed at the post office, and if +any more stamps are needed please put them on. Take what is left for +your trouble," and Quincy passed Abbott a half dollar. + +He heard the retreating carriage wheels as he went upstairs to his room. +He made an entry in his pocket diary, and then ran his eye over several +others that preceded and followed it. + +"Let me see," soliloquized he, as he read aloud, "this is Friday; +Saturday, expect war records from Adjutant-General; Monday, hear from +Ernst, surprise party in the evening; Tuesday, get money at express +office; Tuesday afternoon, buy Hill's grocery and give Strout his first +knock-out; Wednesday, see Stackpole and Smith and arrange to knock +Strout out again; Thursday, Dr. Tillotson." He laughed and closed the +book. Then he said, "And the city fellows think it must be dull down +here because there is nothing going on in a country town in the +winter." + + + + +CHAPTER XXV. + +SOME PLAIN FACTS AND INFERENCES. + + +The next day was Saturday; the sun did not show itself from behind the +clouds till noon, and Quincy put off his trip to the Eastborough Centre +post office with the hope that the afternoon would be pleasant. His wish +was gratified, and at dinner he said he was going to drive over to +Eastborough Centre, and asked Miss Pettengill if she would not like to +accompany him. Alice hesitated, but Uncle Ike advised her to go, telling +her that she stayed indoors too much and needed outdoor exercise. +Ezekiel agreed with his uncle, and Alice finally gave what seemed to +Quincy to be a somewhat reluctant consent. + +He saw that the sleigh was amply supplied with robes, and Mandy, at his +suggestion, heated a large piece of soap-stone, which was wrapped up and +placed in the bottom of the sleigh. + +Alice appeared at the door equipped for her journey. Always lovely in +Quincy's eyes, she appeared still more so in her suit of dark blue +cloth. Over her shoulders she wore a fur cape lined with quilted red +satin, and on her head a fur cap, which made a strong contract with her +light hair which crept out in little curls from underneath. + +They started off at a smart speed, for Old Bill was not in the shafts +this time. Alice had been familiar with the road to Eastborough before +leaving home, and as Quincy described the various points they passed, +Alice entered into the spirit of the drive with all the interest and +enthusiasm of a child. The sharp winter air brought a rosy bloom to her +cheeks, and as Quincy looked at those wonderful large blue eyes, he +could hardly make himself believe that they could not see him. He was +sure he had never seen a handsomer girl. + +As they passed Uncle Ike's little house, Quincy called her attention to +it. Alice said: + +"Poor Uncle Ike, I wish I could do more for him, he has done so much for +me. He paid for my lessons in bookkeeping and music, and also for my +board until I had finished my studies and obtained a position. He has +been a father to me since my own dear father died." + +Quincy felt some inclination to find out the real reason why Uncle Ike +had left his family, but he repressed it and called attention to some +trees, heavily coated with snow and ice, which looked beautiful in the +sunshine, and he described them so graphically, bringing in allusions to +pearls and diamonds and strings of glistening jewels, that Alice clapped +her hands in delight and said she would take him as her literary +partner, to write in the descriptive passages. Quincy for an instant +felt impelled to take advantage of the situation, but saying to himself, +"The time is not yet," he touched the horse with his whip and for half a +minute was obliged to give it his undivided attention. + +"Did you think the horse was running away?" said he to Alice, when he +had brought him down to a trot. "Were you afraid?" + +"I am afraid of nothing nowadays," she replied. "I trust my companions +implicitly, knowing that they will tell me if I am in danger and advise +me what to do. I had a debate a long time ago with Uncle Ike about blind +people and deaf people. He said he would rather be stone deaf than +blind. As he argued it, the deaf person could read and write and get +along very comfortably by himself. I argued on the other side. I wish to +hear the voices of my friends when they talk and sing and read, and +then, you know, everybody lends a helping hand to a person who is blind, +but the deaf person must look out for himself." + +"Either state is to be regretted, if there is no hope of relief," +remarked Quincy. He thought he would refer to Dr. Tillotson, but they +were approaching the centre of the town, and he knew he would not have +time to explain his action before he reached the post office, so he +determined to postpone it until they were on the way home. + +There were three letters for himself, two for Alice and a lot of papers +and magazines for Uncle Ike. He resumed his seat in the sleigh and they +started on their journey homeward. + +"Would you like to go back the same way that we came?" asked Quincy, "or +shall we go by the upper road and come by Deacon Mason's?" + +"I should like to stop and see Huldy," said Alice, and Quincy took the +upper road. + +Conversation lagged on the homeward trip. Alice held her two letters in +her hand and looked at them several times, apparently trying to +recognize the handwriting. As Quincy glanced at her sidewise, he felt +sure that he saw tears in her eyes, and he decided that it would be an +inappropriate time to announce the subject of the new doctor. In fact, +he was beginning to think, the more his mind dwelt upon the subject, +that he had taken an inexcusable liberty in arranging for Dr. Tillotson +to come down without first speaking to her, or at least to her brother +or uncle. But the deed was done, and he must find some way to have her +see the doctor, and get his opinion about her eyes. + +Quincy spent so much time revolving this matter in his mind, that he was +quite astonished when he looked around and found himself at the exact +place where he spoke those words to Huldy Mason that had ended in the +accident. This time he gave careful attention to horse and hill and +curve, and a moment later he drew up the sleigh at Deacon Mason's front +gate. + +Mrs. Mason welcomed them at the door and they were shown into the +parlor, where Huldy sat at the piano. The young girls greeted each other +warmly, and Mrs. Mason and Huldy both wished Quincy and Alice to stay to +tea. They declined, saying they had many letters to read before supper +and 'Zekiel would think something had happened to them if they did not +come home. + +"I will send Hiram down to let them know," said Mrs. Mason. + +"You must really excuse us this time," protested Quincy. "Some other +time perhaps Miss Pettengill will accept your hospitality." + +"But when?" asked Mrs. Mason. "We might as well fix a time right now." + +"Yes," said Huldy, "and we won't let them go till they promise." + +"Well, my plan," said Mrs. Mason, "is this. Have 'Zekiel and Alice and +Mr. Sawyer come over next Monday afternoon about five o'clock, and we +will have tea at six, and we will have some music in the evening. I have +so missed your singing, Mr. Sawyer, since you went away." + +"Yes," said Huldy, "I think it is real mean of you, Alice, not to let +him come and see us oftener." + +Alice flushed and stammered, "I--I--I do not keep him from coming to see +you. Why, yes, I have too," said she, as a thought flashed through her +mind. "I will tell you the truth, Mrs. Mason. Mr. Sawyer offered to do +some writing for me, and I have kept him very busy." + +She stopped and Quincy continued: + +"I did do a little writing for her, Mrs. Mason, during the great +snowstorm, and it was as great a pleasure to me, as I hope it was a help +to her, for I had nothing else to do." + +"Well," said Mrs. Mason, "you can settle that matter between yer. All +that Huldy and me wants to know is, will all three of you come and take +tea with us next Monday night?" + +"I shall be greatly pleased to do so," said Quincy. + +"If 'Zekiel will come, I will," said Alice, and Quincy for an instant +felt a slight touch of wounded feeling because Alice had ignored him +entirely in accepting the invitation. + +As they drove home, Alice said: "Mrs. Mason managed that nicely, didn't +she? I didn't wish to appear too eager to come, for Huldy might have +suspected." + +"What mystery is this?" asked Quincy. "I really don't know what you are +talking about." + +"What!" said Alice. "Didn't 'Zekiel tell you about the surprise party +that Mr. Strout was getting up, and that you, 'Zekiel, and I were not to +be invited?" + +"Oh! I see," said Quincy. "How stupid I have been! I knew all about it +and that it was to be next Monday, but Mrs. Mason asked us so honestly +to come to tea, and Huldy joined in so heartily, that for the time being +I got things mixed, and besides, to speak frankly, Miss Pettengill, I +was thinking of something else." + +"And what was it?" asked Alice. + +"Well," said Quincy, determined to break the ice, "I will tell you. I +was wondering why you said you would come to tea if 'Zekiel would come." + +"Oh!" said Alice, laughing. "You thought I was very ungenerous to leave +you out of the question entirely." + +"Honestly I did think so," remarked Quincy. + +"Well, now," said Alice, "I did it from the most generous of motives. I +thought you knew about the surprise party as well as I did. I knew +'Zekiel would go with me and I thought that perhaps you had some other +young lady in view for your companion." + +"What?" asked Quincy. "Whom could I have had in view?" + +"Shall I tell you whom I think?" asked Alice. + +"I wish you would," Quincy replied. + +"Well," said Alice, "I thought it might be Lindy Putnam." + +Quincy bit his lip and gave the reins a savage jerk, as he turned up the +short road that led to the Pettengill house. "What could make you think +that, Miss Pettengill?" + +"Well, I have only one reason to give," Alice replied, "for that +opinion, but the fact is, when we made our call on Mrs. Putnam she +pounded on the floor three times with her crutch before you came +upstairs. Am I justified, Mr. Sawyer?" + +"I'm afraid you are," said Quincy. "I should have thought so myself if I +had been in your place." + +But when he reached his room he threw his letters on the table, his coat +and hat on the bed, and thrusting his hands into his pockets, he walked +rapidly up and down the room, saying to himself in a savage whisper, +"Confound that Putnam girl; she is a hoodoo." + +Quincy was philosophical, and his excited feelings soon quieted down. It +would come out all right in the end. Alice would find that he had not +intended to take Miss Putnam to the surprise party. He could not betray +Lindy's confidence just at that time, even to justify himself. He must +wait until Mrs. Putnam died. It might be years from now before the time +came to destroy that letter, and he could not, until then, disclose to +Alice the secret that Lindy had confided to him. Yes, it would come out +all right in the end, for it might be if Alice thought he was in love +with Lindy that she would give more thought to him. He had read +somewhere that oftentimes the best way to awaken a dormant love was to +appear to fall in love with some one else. + +Somewhat reconciled to the situation by his thoughts, he sat down to +read his letters. The first one that he took up was from the +confectioner. It informed him that his order would receive prompt +attention, and the writer thanked him for past favors and solicited a +continuance of the same. The second was from Ernst. It was short and to +the point, and written in his characteristic style. It said: + +"Dear Quincy:--Pseudonym received. Bruce Douglas is a name to conjure +with. It smacks of 'Auld Lang Syne.' The Scotch are the only people on +the face of the earth who were never conquered. You will remember, if +you haven't forgotten your ancient history, that the Roman general sent +back word to his emperor that the d----d country wasn't worth conquering. +Enclosures also at hand. The shorter ones are more songs than poems. I +will turn them over to a music publisher, who is a friend of mine. Will +report his decision later. + +"I gave the long poem to Francis Lippitt, the well-known composer, and +he is delighted with it and wishes to set it to music. He is great on +grand choruses, Bach fugues, and such like. If he sets it to music he +will have it sung by the Handel and Haydn Society, for he is a great gun +among them just now. The eight stories have reached New York by this +time, and Jameson is reading 'Her Native Land.' + +"With best regards to Mr. Bruce Douglas and yourself. + +LEOPOLD ERNST. + +The third letter was from the Adjutant-General's office, and Quincy +smiled as he finished the first sheet, folded it up and replaced it in +the envelope. As he read the second the smile left his face. "Who would +have thought it?" he said to himself. "Well, after all, heroes are made +out of strange material. He is the man for my money and I'll back him +up, and beat that braggart." + +On the following Sunday, after dinner, Quincy had a chat with Uncle Ike. +He took the opportunity of asking the old gentleman if he was fully +satisfied with the progress towards recovery that his niece was making. + +"I don't see that she is making any progress," said Uncle Ike frankly. +"I don't think she can see a bit better than she could when she came +home. In fact, I don't think she can see as well. She had a pair of +glasses made of black rubber, with a pinhole in the centre of them, that +she could read a little with, but I notice now that she never puts them +on." + +"Well," remarked Quincy, "perhaps I have taken an unwarrantable liberty, +Uncle Ike; but when I was last in Boston I heard of a new doctor who has +made some wonderful cures, and I have engaged him to come down here next +week and see your niece. Of course, if you object I will write to him +not to come, and no harm will be done." + +Quincy did not think it necessary to state that he had paid the doctor +his fee of one hundred dollars in advance. + +"Well," said Uncle Ike, "I certainly sha'n't object, if the doctor can +do her any good. But I should like to know something about the course of +treatment, the nature of it, I mean, before she gives up her present +doctor." + +"That's just what I mean," said Quincy. "I want you to be so kind as to +take this whole matter off my hands, just as though I had made the +arrangement at your suggestion. I am going down for the doctor next +Thursday noon. Won't you ride down with me and meet Dr. Tillotson? You +can talk to him on the way home, and then you can manage the whole +matter yourself, and do as you think best about changing doctors." + +"You have been very kind to my niece, Mr. Sawyer, since you have been +here," said Uncle Ike, "and very helpful to her. I attribute your +interest in her case to your kindness of heart and a generosity which is +seldom found in the sons of millionaires. But take my advice, Mr. +Sawyer, and let your feelings stop there." + +"I do not quite understand you," replied Quincy, though from a sudden +sinking of his heart he felt that he did. + +"Then I will speak plainer," said Uncle Ike. "Don't fall in love with my +niece, Mr. Sawyer. She is a good girl, a sweet girl, and some might call +her a beautiful one, but she has her limitations. She is not fitted to +sit in a Beacon Street parlor; and your parents and sisters would not be +pleased to have you place her there. Excuse an old man, Mr. Sawyer, but +you know wisdom cometh with age, although its full value is not usually +appreciated by the young." + +Quincy, for the first time in his life, was entirely at a loss for a +reply. He burned to declare his love then and there; but how could he do +so in the face of such a plain statement of facts? He did the best thing +possible under the circumstances; he quietly ignored Uncle Ike's advice, +and thanking him for his kindness in consenting to meet the new doctor +he bade him good afternoon and went to his room. + +After Quincy had gone Uncle Ike rubbed his hands together gleefully and +shook with laughter. + +"The sly rogue!" he said to himself. "Wanted Uncle Ike to help him out." +Then he laughed again. "If he don't love her he will take my advice, but +if he does, what I told him will drive him on like spurs in the side of +a horse. He is a good fellow, a great deal better than his father and +the rest of his family, for he isn't stuck up. I like him, but my Alice +is good enough for him even if he were a good deal better than he is. +How it would tickle me to hear my niece calling the Hon. Nathaniel +Sawyer papa!" And Uncle Ike laughed until his sides shook. + +Monday promised to be a dull day. 'Zekiel told Quincy at breakfast, +after the others had left the table, that Alice had spoken to him about +Mrs. Mason's invitation to tea, and, of course, he was going. Quincy +said that he had accepted the invitation and would be pleased to +accompany him and his sister. + +After breakfast he heard Alice singing in the parlor, and joining her +there told her that he had received a letter from Mr. Ernst, which he +would like to read to her. Alice was delighted with the letter, and they +both laughed heartily over it, Quincy humorously apologizing for the +swear word by saying that being historical it could not be profane. + +Alice had in her hand the two letters that she had received on Saturday. + +"Have you answered your letters?" he asked. + +"No, I have not even heard them read," she replied. "Uncle Ike has grown +tired all at once and won't read to me nor write for me. I don't +understand him at all. I sent for him yesterday afternoon, after you +came down, and told him what I wanted him to do. He sent back word that +he was too busy and I must get somebody else, but who can I get? Mandy +and 'Zekiel are both too much occupied with their own duties to help +me." + +"If I can be of any service to you, Miss Pettengill, you know--" + +"Oh, I don't think I should dare to let you read these letters," +interrupted Alice, laughing. "No doubt they are from two of my lady +friends, and I have always heard that men consider letters that women +write to each other very silly and childish." + +"Perhaps I have not told you," said Quincy, "that I have two sisters and +am used to that sort of thing. When I was in college hardly a day passed +that I did not get a letter from one or the other of them, and they +brightened up my life immensely." + +"What are their names and how old are they?" asked Alice. + +"The elder," replied Quincy, "is nineteen and her name is Florence +Estelle." + +"What a sweet name!" said Alice. + +"The younger is between fifteen and sixteen, and is named Maude +Gertrude." + +"Is she as dignified as her name?" asked Alice. + +"Far from it," remarked Quincy. "She would be a tomboy if she had an +opportunity. Mother and father call them Florence and Maude, for they +both abhor nicknames, but among ourselves they are known as Flossie, or +Stell, and Gertie." + +"What was your nickname?" asked Alice. + +"Well," said Quincy, "they used to call me Quinn, but that had a +Hibernian sound to it, and Maude nicknamed me Ad, which she said was +short for adder. She told me she called me that because I was so deaf +that I never heard her when she asked me to take her anywhere." + +"Well, Mr. Sawyer, if you will promise not to laugh out loud, I will be +pleased to have you read these letters to me. You can smile all you wish +to, for of course I can't see you." + +"I agree," said Quincy; and he advanced towards her, took the two +letters and drew a chair up beside her. + +"My dear May," read Quincy. He stopped suddenly, and turning to Alice +said, "Is this letter for you?" + +"Before we go any further," said Alice, "I must explain my various names +and nicknames. I was named Mary Alice, the Mary being my mother's name, +while the Alice was a favorite of my father's. Mother always called me +Mary and father always called me Alice! and brother 'Zekiel and Uncle +Ike seem to like the name Alice best. When I went to Commercial College +to study they asked me my name and I said naturally Mary A. Pettengill. +Then the girls began to call me May, and the boys, or young men I +suppose you call them, nicknamed me Miss Atlas, on account of my +initials. Now that I have given you a chart of my names to go by, the +reading will no doubt be plain sailing in future." + +Quincy laughed and said, "I should call it a M.A.P. instead of a chart." + +"Fie! Mr. Sawyer, to make such a joke upon my poor name. No doubt you +have thought of one that would please you better than any I have +mentioned." + +Quincy thought he had, but he wisely refrained from saying so. He could +not help thinking, however, that Miss Atlas was a very appropriate name +for a girl who was all the world to him. It is evident that Uncle Ike's +words of advice the previous afternoon had not taken very deep root in +Quincy's heart. + +He resumed his reading: + +"My dear May:--How are you getting along in that dismal country town, +and how are your poor eyes? I know you can't write to me, but I want you +to know that I have not forgotten you. Every time I see my sister, +Stella, she waves your photograph before my eyes. You know you promised +me one before you were sick. Just send it to me, and it will be just as +nice as a good, long letter. As somebody else will probably read this to +you, in order to keep them from committing a robbery I send you only one +kiss. + +From your loving, +EMMA FARNUM." + +"Are you smiling, Mr. Sawyer?" asked Alice. + +"Not at all," he answered. "I am looking grieved because Miss Farnum has +such a poor opinion of me." + +Alice laughed merrily. "Emma is a very bright, pretty girl," said Alice. +"She boarded at the same house that I did. Her sister Stella is married +to a Mr. Dwight. I will answer her letter as she suggests by sending her +the promised photograph. On the bureau in my room, Mr. Sawyer, you will +find an envelope containing six photographs. I had them taken about a +month before I was sick. Underneath you will find some heavy envelopes +that the photographer gave me to mail them in." + +Quincy went upstairs three steps at a time. He found the package, and +impelled by an inexplicable curiosity he counted the pictures and found +there were seven. "She said six," he thought to himself. "I am positive +she said there were only six." He took one of the pictures and put it in +one of the mailing envelopes. He took another picture, and after giving +it a long, loving look he placed it in the inside pocket of his coat, +and with a guilty flush upon his face he fled from the room. + +Just as he reached the open parlor door a second thought, which is said +to be the best, came to him, and he was about turning to go upstairs and +replace the picture when Alice's acute ear heard him and she asked, "Did +you find them?" + +Quincy, seeing that retreat was now impossible, said, "Yes," and resumed +his seat beside her. + +"Did you find six?" said Alice. + +"There are five upstairs in the envelope and one here ready to address," +replied Quincy. + +"Her address," continued Alice, "is Miss Emma Farnum, care Cotton & Co., +Real Estate Brokers, Tremont Row." + +Quincy went to the table, wrote the address as directed, and tied the +envelope with the string attached. + +"I am afraid the other letter cannot be so easily answered," said Alice. +"Look at the signature, please, and see if it is not from Bessie White." + +"It is signed Bessie," said Quincy. + +"I thought so," exclaimed Alice. "She works for the same firm that I +did." + +Quincy read the following: + +"My Dear May:--I know that you will be glad to learn what is going on at +the great dry goods house of Borden, Waitt, & Fisher. Business is good, +and we girls are all tired out when night comes and have to go to a +party or the theatre to get rested. Mr. Ringgold, the head bookkeeper, +is disconsolate over your absence, and asks done or more of us every +morning if we have heard from Miss Pettengill. Then, every afternoon, he +says, 'Did I ask you this morning how Miss Pettengill was getting +along?' Of course it is this devotion to the interest of the firm that +leads him to ask these questions." + +Alice flushed slightly, and turning to Quincy said, "Are you smiling, +Mr. Sawyer? There is nothing in it, I assure you; Bessie is a great +joker and torments the other girls unmercifully." + +"I am glad there is nothing in it," said Quincy. "If I were a woman I +would be afraid to marry a bookkeeper. My household cash would have to +balance to a cent, and at the end of the year he would insist on +housekeeping showing a profit." + +Alice regained her composure and Quincy continued his reading: + +"What do you think! Rita Sanguily has left, and they say she is going to +marry a Dr. Culver, who lives up on Beacon Hill somewhere." + +Quincy started a little as he read this, but made no comment. + +"I was out to see Stella Dwight the other day, and she showed me a +picture of you. Can you spare one to your old friend, + +BESSIE WHITE. + +"P.S.--I don't expect an answer, but I shall expect the picture. I +shall write you whenever I get any news, and send you a dozen kisses and +two big hugs. B.W." + +"She is more liberal than Miss Farnum," remarked Quincy. "She is not +afraid that I will commit robbery." + +"No," rejoined Alice, "but I cannot share with you. Bessie White is the +dearest friend I have in the world." + +"Miss White is fortunate," said Quincy, "but who is Rita Sanguily, if I +am not presuming in asking the question?" + +"She is a Portuguese girl," answered Alice, "with black eyes and +beautiful black hair. She is very handsome and can talk Portuguese, +French, and Spanish. She held a certain line of custom on this account. +Do you know her?" + +"No," replied Quincy, "but I think I know Dr. Culver." + +"What kind of a looking man is he?" asked Alice. + +"Oh! he is tall and heavily built, with large bright blue eyes and tawny +hair," said Quincy. + +"I like such marked contrasts in husband and wife," remarked Alice. + +"So do I," said Quincy, looking at himself in a looking glass which hung +opposite, and then at Alice; "but how about Miss White's picture?" + +"Can I trouble you to get one?" said Alice. + +"No trouble at all," replied Quincy; but he went up the stairs this time +one step at a time. He was deliberating whether he should return that +picture that was in his coat pocket or keep it until the original should +be his own. He entered the room, took another picture and another +envelope and came slowly downstairs. His crime at first had been +unpremeditated, but his persistence was deliberate felony. + +"Now there are four left," said Alice, as Quincy entered the room. + +"Just four," he replied. "I counted them to make sure." He sat at the +table and wrote. "Will this do?" he asked: "Miss Bessie White, care of +Borden, Waitt, & Fisher, Boston, Mass.?" + +"Oh, thank you so much," said Alice. + +At this moment Mandy appeared at the door and announced dinner, and +Quincy had the pleasure of leading Alice to her accustomed seat at the +table. + +"I took the liberty while upstairs," said Quincy, "to glance at a book +that was on your bureau entitled, 'The Love of a Lifetime,' Have you +read it?" + +"No," replied Alice. "I commenced it the night before I was taken sick." + +"I shall be pleased to read it aloud to you," said Quincy. + +"I should enjoy listening to it very much," she replied. + +So after dinner they returned to the parlor and Quincy read aloud until +the descending sun again sent its rays through the parlor windows to +fall upon Alice's face and hair, and Quincy thought to himself how happy +he should be if the fair girl who sat beside him ever became the love of +his lifetime. + +Alice finally said she was tired and must have a rest. Quincy called +Mandy and she went to her room. A few moments later Quincy was in his +own room and after locking his door sat down to inspect his plunder. + +Alice did not rest, however; something was on her mind. She found her +way to the bureau and took up the pictures. + +"Only four," she said to herself, after counting them. "Let me see," she +continued, "the photographer gave me thirteen,--a baker's dozen he +called it. Now to whom have I given them? 'Zekiel, one; Uncle Ike, two; +Mrs. Putnam, three; Stella Dwight, four; Bessie White, five; Emma +Farnum, six; Mr. Ringgold, seven; Mr. Fisher, eight. That would leave +five and I have only four. Now to whom did I give that other picture?" + +And the guilty thief sat on the other side of the partition and exulted +in his crime. There came a loud rap at his door, and Quincy started up +so suddenly that he dropped the picture and it fell to the floor. He +caught it up quickly and placed it in his pocket. As he unlocked the +door and opened it he heard loud rapping on the door of Miss +Pettengill's room. + +Looking into the entry he saw 'Zekiel, who cried out, "Say, you folks, +have you forgotten that you have been invited out to tea this evening, +and that we are going to give a surprise party to Mr. Strout and his +friends? I am all dressed and the sleigh is ready." + +Without waiting for a reply he dashed downstairs. + +While Quincy was donning his sober suit of black, with a Prince Albert +coat and white tie, Alice had put on an equally sober costume of fawn +colored silk, with collar and cuffs of dainty lace, with little dashes +of pink ribbon, by way of contrast in color. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVI. + +THE SURPRISE PARTY. + + +After Alice had taken her place on the back seat in the double sleigh, +Quincy started to take his place on the front seat, beside 'Zekiel, but +the latter motioned him to sit beside Alice, and Quincy did so without +needing any urging. + +As 'Zekiel took up the reins, Quincy leaned forward and touched him on +the shoulder. + +"I've just thought," said he, "that I've made a big blunder and I can't +see how I can repair it." + +"What's the matter?" asked 'Zekiel; and Alice turned an inquiring face +towards Quincy. + +"The fact is," Quincy continued, "I ordered some ice cream and cake sent +down from the city for the show to-night, but I forgot, I am ashamed to +say, to make arrangements to have it sent up to Deacon Mason's. It will +be directed to him, but the station agent won't be likely to send it up +before to-morrow." + +"What time is it?" asked 'Zekiel. + +Quincy looked at his watch and replied, "It is just half-past four." + +"Why do we go so early?" inquired Alice, "they will not have tea till +six." + +"Oh," said 'Zekiel, "I intended to give you a sleigh ride first anyway. +Now with this pair of trotters I am going to take you over to +Eastborough Centre and have you back at Deacon Mason's barn door in just +one hour and with appetites that it will take two suppers to satisfy." + +With this 'Zekiel whipped up his horses and they dashed off towards the +town. A short distance beyond Uncle Ike's chicken coop they met Abner +Stiles driving home from the Centre. He nodded to 'Zekiel, but Quincy +did not notice him, being engaged in conversation with Alice at the +time. They reached the station, and Quincy gave orders to have the +material sent up, so that it would arrive at about half-past nine. +'Zekiel more than kept his promise, for they reached Deacon Mason's barn +at exactly twenty-nine minutes past five. Hiram was on hand to put up +the horses, and told Quincy in a whisper that some of the boys thought +it was mighty mean not to invite the Pettengill folks and their boarder. + +The sharp air had whetted the appetites of the travellers during their +six-mile ride, and they did full justice to the nicely-cooked food that +the Deacon's wife placed before them. Supper was over at quarter before +seven, and in half an hour the dishes were washed and put away and the +quartette of young folks adjourned to the parlor. + +Quincy took his seat at the piano and began playing a popular air. + +"Oh, let us sing something," cried Huldy. "You know I have been taking +lessons from Professor Strout, and he says I have improved greatly. If +he says it you know it must be so; and, did you know Alice, that 'Zekiel +has a fine baritone voice?" + +"We used to sing a good deal together," said Alice, "but I was no judge +of voices then." + +"Well, 'Zeke don't know a note of music," continued Huldy, "but he has a +quick ear and he seems to know naturally just how to use his voice." + +"Oh, nonsense," said 'Zekiel, "I don't know how to sing, I only hum a +little. Sing us something, Mr. Sawyer," said he. + +Quincy sang a song very popular at the time, entitled "The Jockey Hat +and Feather." All four joined in the chorus, and at the close the room +rang with laughter. Quincy then struck up another popular air, "Pop Goes +the Weasel," and this was sung by the four with great gusto. Then he +looked over the music on the top of the piano, which was a Bourne & +Leavitt square, and found a copy of the cantata entitled, "The +Haymakers," and for half an hour the solos and choruses rang through the +house and out upon the evening air. + +Mrs. Mason looked in the door and said, "I wouldn't sing any more now, +it is nearly eight o'clock." + +And thus admonished they began talking of Tilly James's engagement to +Sam Hill and the sale of the grocery store, which was to come off the +next day. + +"I wonder who will buy it?" asked Huldy. + +"Well, I hear Strout has got some backers," said 'Zekiel, "but I don't +see what good it will be to him unless he is appointed postmaster. They +say he has written to Washington and applied for the position." + +Quincy pricked up his ears at this. He had almost forgotten this chance +to put another spoke in Mr. Strout's wheel. He made a mental memorandum +to send telegrams to two Massachusetts congressmen with whom he was well +acquainted to hold up Strout's appointment at all hazards until they +heard from him again. + +A little after seven o'clock the advance guard of the surprise party +arrived at Hill's grocery, which was the appointed rendezvous. Abner +Stiles drew Strout to one side and said, "I saw the Pettengill folks and +that city feller in 'Zeke's double sleigh going over to the Centre at +about five o'clock." + +"So much the better," said Strout. + +"Do you know where they've gone?" inquired Stiles. + +"No, but I guess I can find out," Strout replied. + +He had spied Mandy Skinner among a crowd of girls on the platform. He +called her and she came to him. + +"Did Mr. Pettengill and his sister take tea at home to-night?" + +"No," said Mandy. "I told them I was going away to-night, and Mr. +Pettengill said they were going away too. And Cobb's twins told me at +dinner time that they wouldn't be home to supper; and as I didn't wish +to eat too much, considering what was coming later, I didn't get no +supper at all. I left Crowley to look out for Uncle Ike, who is always +satisfied if he gets toast and tea." + +"Don't you know where they've gone?" inquired Strout. + +"Over to the hotel, I guess," said Mandy. "I heard Mr. Sawyer tell Miss +Alice that they had good oysters over there, and she said as how she was +dying to get some raw oysters." + +"Things couldn't have worked better," remarked Strout, as he rejoined +Abner, who was smoking a cheap cigar. "The Pettengill crowd has gone +over to the hotel to supper. You ought not to smoke, Abner, if you are +going to kiss the girls to-night," said Strout. + +"I guess I sha'n't do much kissin'," replied Abner, "except what I give +my fiddle with the bow, and that fiddle of mine is used to smoke." + +Strout looked around and saw that the whole party had assembled. There +were about fifty in all, very nearly equally divided as regarded numbers +into fellows and girls. + +"Now I am going ahead," said Strout, "to interview the old lady, before +we jump in on them. The rest of you just follow Abner and wait at the +top of the hill, just round the corner, so that they can't see you from +the house. I have arranged with Hiram to blow his bugle when everything +is ready, and when you hear it you just rush down hill laughing and +screaming and yelling like wild Injuns. Come in the back door, right +into the big kitchen, and when Miss Huldy comes into the room you just +wait till I deliver my speech." + +Strout started off, and the party followed Abner to the appointed +waiting place. + +Strout knocked lightly at the kitchen door, and it was opened by Mrs. +Mason. + +"Is the Deacon at home?" inquired he, endeavoring to disguise his voice. + +"No," said Mrs. Mason, "he has gone to Eastborough Centre on some +business, but told me he would be back about half past nine." + +"Is Hiram here?" asked Strout. + +"He's out in the kitchen polishing up his bugle," said Mrs. Mason. "But +come in a minute, Mr. Strout, I have got something to fell you." + +Strout stepped in and quietly closed the door. + +"What's the matter, Mrs. Mason? I hope Huldy isn't sick." + +"No," said she, "it's unfortunate it has happened as it has, but it +couldn't be avoided. You see she invited some company to tea, and I +supposed that they would have gone home long 'fore this. You see, Huldy +don't suspect nothing, and she has asked them to spend the evening, and +I don't see how in the world I am going to get rid of them." + +"Don't do it," said Strout. "Extend to them an invitation in my name to +remain and enjoy the evening's festivities with us. No doubt Miss Huldy +will be pleased to have them stay." + +"I know she will," said Mrs. Mason, "and I'll give them your invite as +soon as you're ready." + +"Well, Mrs. Mason," said Strout, "just tell Hiram I am ready to have him +blow that bugle, and when you hear it you can just tell your daughter +and her friends what's up." + +Hiram soon joined Strout outside the kitchen door. The latter went out +in the road and looked up the hill to see if his party was all ready. +Abner waved his hand, and Strout rushed back to Hiram and cried, "Give +it to 'em now, Hiram, and do your darnedest!" + +Huldy and her friends were engaged in earnest conversation, when a loud +blast burst upon the air, followed by a succession of piercing notes +from Hiram's old cracked bugle. + +Huldy jumped to her feet and exclaimed, "What does Hiram want to blow +that horrid old bugle at this time of night for? I will tell ma to stop +him." + +She started towards the parlor door, when the whole party heard shouts +of laughter, screams from female voices, and yells from male ones that +would have done credit to a band of wild Comanches. + +All stood still and listened. Again the laughter, screams, and yells +were heard. This time they seemed right under the parlor window. + +A look of surprise and almost terror passed over Alice's face, and +turning to Quincy unthinkingly she said in a low whisper, "What was +that, Quincy? What does it mean?" + +Quincy's heart jumped as his Christian name fell from the girl's lips. +He put his left hand over his heart (her picture was in the pocket just +beneath it) and said as naturally as he could, although with a little +tremor in his voice, "It's all right, Alice, that's Mr. Strout's idea of +a surprise party." + +"A surprise party!" cried Huldy, "who for? Me?" + +At this moment Mrs. Mason opened the door and entered the room. + +"Huldy," said she, "Professor Strout wishes me to tell you that he and +his friends have come to give you a surprise party, and he wished me to +invite you," turning to the others, "as Huldy's friends to remain and +enjoy the festivities of the evening." + +Then the poor old lady, who had been under a nervous strain for the past +ten days, and who had come nearer telling untruths than she ever had +before in her life, began to laugh, and then to cry, and finally sank +into a chair, overcome for the moment. + +"I wish Abraham was here," said she, "I guess I'm getting a little bit +nervous." + +Let us return to the great kitchen, which the members of the surprise +party now had in their possession. A dozen of the men produced lanterns, +which they lighted, and which were soon hung upon the walls of the +kitchen, one of the number having brought a hammer and some nails. + +It was a pound party, and two young men fetched in a basket containing +the goodies which had been brought for the supper. Strout had made +arrangements to have the hot coffee made at the grocery store, and it +was to be brought down at half-past nine. + +He arranged his party so that all could get a good view of the door +through which Huldy must come. He stepped forward within ten feet of the +door and stood expectantly. Why this delay? Strout looked around at the +party. There were Tilly James and Sam Hill; Cobb's twins, and each +brought a pretty girl; Robert Wood, Benjamin Bates, and Arthur Scates +were equally well supplied; Lindy Putnam, after much solicitation, had +consented to come with Emmanuel Howe, the clergyman's son, and he was in +the seventh heaven of delight; Mandy stood beside Hiram and his bugle, +and Samantha Green had Farmer Tompkins's son George for escort. It was a +real old-fashioned, democratic party. Clergymen's sons, farmers' sons, +girls that worked out, chore boys, farm hands, and an heiress to a +hundred thousand dollars, met on a plane of perfect equality without a +thought of caste, and to these were soon to be added more farmers' sons +and daughters and the only son of a millionaire. + +"Just give them a call," said Strout, turning to Hiram, and the latter +gave a blast on his bugle, which sent fingers to the ears of his +listeners. The handle of the door turned and opened and Huldy entered, +her mother leaning upon her arm. + +They were greeted by hand clapping and cries of "Good evening" from the +party, and all eyes were fixed upon Strout, who stood as if petrified +and gazed at the three figures that came through the open door and stood +behind Huldy and her mother. Hamlet following the fleeting apparition on +the battlements of the castle at Elsinore, Macbeth viewing Banquo at his +feast, or Richard the Third gazing on the ghostly panorama of the +murdered kings and princes, could not have felt weaker at heart than did +Professor Strout when he saw the new-comers and realized that they were +there by his express invitation. + +The members of the surprise party thought Strout had forgotten his +speech, and cries of "Speech!" "Speech!" "Give us the speech!" fell upon +his ear, but no words fell from his lips. It was a cruel blow, but no +crueler than the unfounded stories that he had started and circulated +about the town for the past three months. Those who had thought it was +mean not to invite the Pettengills and Mr. Sawyer enjoyed his +discomfiture and were the loudest in calling for a speech. + +The situation became somewhat strained, and Huldy looked up to Quincy +with an expression that seemed to say, How are we going to get out of +this? + +Quite a number of the party saw this look and immediately began calling +out, "Mr. Sawyer, give us a speech!" "A speech from Mr. Sawyer!" + +Huldy smiled and nodded to Quincy, and then there were loud cries of +"Speech! Speech!" and clapping of hands. + +Abner Stiles got up and gave his chair to Professor Strout, who sank +into it, saying as he did so, "I guess it was the heat." + +Quincy stepped forward and bowing to Huldy and then to Mrs. Mason, +addressed the party in a low but clearly distinct voice. + +"Authorized by these ladies to speak for them, I desire to return +sincere thanks for this manifestation of your regard for them. Your +visit was entirely unexpected by Miss Mason and a great surprise to her. +But it is a most pleasant surprise, and she desires me to thank you +again and again for your kind thoughts and your good company this +evening. She and her mother join in giving you a most hearty welcome. +They wish you to make yourselves at home and will do all in their power +to make the evening a happy one and one long to be remembered by the +inhabitants of Mason's Corner. The inception of this happy event, I +learn, is due to Professor Strout, who for some time, I understand, has +been Miss Mason's music teacher, and the ladies, whose ideas I am +expressing, desire me to call upon him to take charge of the festivities +and bring them to a successful close, as he is no doubt competent and +willing to do." + +Quincy bowed low and retired behind the other members of the party. + +Quincy's speech was greeted with cheers and more clapping of hands. Even +Strout's friends were pleased by the graceful compliment paid to the +Professor, and joined in the applause. + +Strout had by this time fully recovered his equanimity. A chair was +placed upon the kitchen table and Abner Stiles was boosted up and took +his seat thereon. While he was tuning up his fiddle the Professor opened +a package that one of the girls handed to him and passed a pair of +knitted woollen wristers to each lady in the company. He gave three +pairs to Huldy, who in turn gave one pair to her mother and one to +Alice. There were several pairs over, as several girls who had been +expected to join the party had not come. + +"Now, Mrs. Mason," said the Professor, "could you kindly supply me with +a couple of small baskets, or if not, with a couple of milk pans?" + +The Professor took one of the pans and Robert Wood the other. + +"The ladies wall please form in line," cried the Professor; which was +done. "Now will each lady," said the Professor, "as she marches between +us, throw one wrister in one pan and t'other wrister in the other pan? +Give us a good, lively march, Abner," he added, and the music began. + +The procession passed between the upheld pans, one wrister of each pair +thrown right and the other left, as it moved on. + +The music stopped. "Now, will the ladies please form in line again," +said the Professor, "and as they pass through each one take a wrister +from the pan held by Mr. Wood." + +The music started up again and the procession moved forward and the work +of selection was completed. + +Again the music stopped. "Now will the gentlemen form in line, and as +they march forward each one take a wrister from the pan that I hold," +said the Professor. + +Once more the music started up. The line was formed, the procession +advanced, 'Zekiel and Quincy bringing up the rear. As Quincy took the +last wrister from the pan that the Professor held, the latter turned +quickly away and beat a tattoo on the bottom of the pan with his +knuckles and cried out, "Gentlemen will please find their partners. The +wristers become the property of the gentlemen." + +Then a wild rush took place. Screams of laughter were heard on every +side, and it was fully five minutes before the excitement subsided, and +in response to another tattoo upon the milk pan by the Professor, the +couples, as arranged by the hand of Fate, formed in line and marched +around the great kitchen to the music of a sprightly march written by +the Professor and called "The Wrister March," and respectfully dedicated +to Miss Hulda Mason. This announcement was made by Mr. Stiles from his +elevated position upon the kitchen table. + +The hand of Fate had acted somewhat strangely. The Professor and Mandy +Skinner stood side by side, as did 'Zekiel Pettengill and Mrs. Mason. +Lindy Putnam and Huldy by a queer twist of fortune were mated with +Cobb's twins. + +But Fate did one good act. By chance Quincy and Alice stood side by +side. She looked up at him and said to her partner, "What is your name, +I cannot see your face?" + +"My name is Quincy," said Sawyer in a low voice. + +"I am so glad!" said Alice, leaning a little more heavily on his arm. + +"So am I," responded Quincy ardently. + +After the procession had made several circuits of the great kitchen, +Professor Strout gave a signal, and it broke up, each gentleman being +then at liberty to seek the lady of his own choice. + +"What games shall we play fust?" asked Strout, taking the centre of the +room, and looking round upon the company with a countenance full of +smiles and good nature. + +"Who is it?" "Who is it?" came from a dozen voices. + +"All right," cried Strout; "that's a very easy game to play. Now all you +ladies git in a line and I'll put this one chair right front of yer. Now +all the gentlemen must leave the room except one. I suppose we can use +the parlor, Mrs. Mason?" + +Mrs. Mason nodded her head in the affirmative. + +"I'll 'tend door," said Hiram; and he took his position accordingly. +After the rest of the gentlemen had left the room, Hiram closed the +door, and turning to Huldy said, "Shall I call them, or will you?" + +"You call them," said Huldy. + +"Got the handkerchief ready?" asked Hiram. + +Huldy swung a big red bandanna in the air. Opening a door, Hiram called +out in a loud voice, "Obadiah Strout." + +As Strout walked towards the line of young girls they called out +together, "Mister, please take a chair." + +Strout sat down in a chair. One of the girls who had the bandanna +handkerchief in her hand passed it quickly over his eyes and tied it +firmly behind his head. Two of the girls then stepped forward and each +one taking one of his hands and extending it at right angles with his +body held it firmly in their grasps. At the same instant his head was +pulled back by one of the girls and a kiss was imprinted on his upturned +mouth. + +"Who is it?" screamed the girls in unison. The holds on the Professor's +head and hands were released and he sat upright in the chair. + +"I kinder guess it was Miss Huldy Mason," said he. + +A loud laugh burst from the girls, mixed with cries of "You're wrong!" +"You ain't right!" "You didn't get it!" "You're out!" and similar +ejaculations. + +The handkerchief was taken from his eyes and he was marched to the left +of the line of girls, which ran length-wise of the kitchen. + +Abner Stiles was the next one called in, and he was subjected to the +same treatment as had befallen his predecessor, but to the intense +disgust of Professor Strout he saw Hiram Maxwell come on tiptoe from the +parlor door, lean over and kiss Abner Stiles. The thought of course ran +through his mind that he had been subjected to the same treatment. He +was on the point of protesting at this way of conducting the game when +the idea occurred to him that it would be a huge satisfaction to have +that city chap subjected to the same treatment, and he decided to hold +his peace. + +The next one called was 'Zekiel Pettengill, and he was treated in the +same manner as the Professor and Abner had been; but as Hiram leaned +over to kiss him, 'Zekiel's foot slipped upon the floor and struck +against Hiram's, Hiram being in front of him. 'Zekiel then put up both +of his feet and kicked with them in such a way that Hiram was unable to +approach him. + +'Zekiel called out, "It's Hiram Maxwell," and the room rang with the +laughs and cries of the girls. + +'Zekiel, having guessed who it was, was marched off to the right of the +line of girls. + +Strout called out, "Let's play something else," but the sentiment of the +company seemed to be that it wasn't fair to the others not to give them +a chance, so the game continued. Quincy was the next one called, and to +still further increase the disgust of Strout and Abner, instead of Hiram +leaving the door, as before, one of the girls stepped out from the line, +at a signal from Huldy, and kissed Quincy. He guessed that it was Miss +Huldy Mason, and was greeted with the same cries that Strout had heard. +He took his place at the left with the latter. + +Strout leaned over and whispered in Abner's ear, "That was a put-up job. +I'll get even with Hiram Maxwell before I get through." + +The game continued until all the men had been called in. With the +exception of Emmanuel Howe, none of them were able to guess who it was. +When Emmanuel took his place by the side of 'Zekiel he confided the fact +to him that he guessed it was Miss Putnam on account of the perfumery +which he had noticed before he left the house with her. + +After this game others followed in quick succession. There were +"Pillow," "Roll the Cover," "Button, Button, Who's Got the Button?" +"Copenhagen," and finally "Post Office." From all of these games Alice +begged to be excused. She told the Professor that she was not bashful +nor diffident, but that her eyesight was so poor that she knew she would +detract from the pleasure of the others if she engaged in the games. +The Professor demurred at first, but said finally that her excuse was a +good one. Then he turned to Abner and remarked that he supposed Mr. +Sawyer would ask to be excused next 'cause his girl wasn't going to +play. + +But Quincy had no such intention. After leading Alice to a seat beside +Mrs. Mason, he returned to the company and took part in every game, +entering with spirit and vivacity into each of them. He invented some +forfeits that one girl objected to the forfeit exacted of her as being +all out of proportion to her offence, the matter was referred to Quincy. +He said that he would remit the original forfeit and she could kiss him +instead. But she objected, saying that forfeit was worse than the other +one. This pleased Strout greatly, and he remarked to Abner, who kept as +close to him as the tail to a kite, that there was one girl in town who +wasn't afraid to speak her mind. + +The game of Post Office was the most trying one to Quincy. Of his own +free will he would not have called either Huldy or Lindy, but Strout and +Abner and all the rest of them had letters for both of these young +ladies. He was afraid that his failure to call them out might lead to +remark, as he knew that Strout and Abner and Robert Wood were watching +his actions closely. So, near the middle of the game, when he had been +called out, he had a letter from England for Miss Lindy Putnam. + +As she raised her face to his for the kiss on the cheek that he gave +her, she said, "I was afraid you had not forgiven me, after all." + +"Oh, yes, I have," said Quincy, and carried away by the excitement of +the occasion, he caught her again in his arms and gave her another kiss, +this time upon the lips. + +At this instant Abner Stiles, who was tending door, opened it and called +out, "Takes a long time to pay the postage on one letter!" + +A little later Quincy was again called out, and this time he had a +letter from Boston for Miss Mason. He kissed her on the cheek, as he had +done with Lindy. Huldy looked up with a laugh and said, "Were you as +bashful as that with Miss Putnam?" + +"Yes," said Quincy, "at first, but there was double postage on her +letter, the same as on yours." And though Huldy tried to break away from +him he caught her and kissed her upon the lips, as he had done to Lindy. + +Again Abner opened the door and cried out that the mails would close in +one minute, and he'd better get the stamps on that letter quick. + +[Illustration: "AN OLD-FASHIONED HUSKING BEE." (ACT III.)--Penalty of +red ear.] + +All such good times come to an end, and the signal for the close was the +return of Deacon Mason from his visit to town. He was popular with all +parties, and Stroutites, Anti-Stroutites, and neutrals all gathered +'round him and said they were having a beautiful time, and could they +have a little dance after supper? + +The Deacon said he didn't know that dancing in itself was so bad, for +the Bible referred to a great many dances. "But," said he, "I have +always been agin permiscuous dancing." + +"But we ain't permiscuous," said Tilly James. "We are all friends and +neighbors." + +"Most all," said Strout; but his remark was unnoticed by all excepting +Quincy. + +"Well, under the circumstances," concluded the Deacon, "I don't object +to your finishing up with an old-fashioned reel, and mother and me will +jine in with you, so as to countenance the perceedings." + +The call was now made for supper. A procession was again formed, each +gentleman taking the lady who had accompanied him to the party. They all +filed into the dining-room and took their places around the long table. +The most of them looked at its contents with surprise and delight. +Instead of seeing only home-made cakes, and pies, and dishes of nuts, +and raisins, and apples, that they had expected, occupying the centre +of the table, they gazed upon a large frosted cake, in the centre of +which arose what resembled the spire of a church, made of sugar and +adorned with small American flags and streamers made of various colored +silk ribbons. Flanking the centrepiece at each corner were large dishes +containing mounds of jelly cake, pound cake, sponge cake, and angel +cake. On either side of the centrepiece, shaped in fancy moulds, were +two large dishes of ice cream, a third full of sherbet, and the fourth +one filled with frozen pudding. In the vacant spaces about the larger +dishes were smaller plates containing the home-made pies and cake, and +the apples, oranges, dates, figs, raisins, nuts, and candy taken from +the pound packages brought by the members of the surprise party. Piled +upon the table in heaps were the fifty boxes containing the souvenir +gifts that Quincy had ordered. + +As they took their places about the table, Quincy felt it incumbent upon +him to say something. Turning to the Professor he addressed him: + +"Professor Strout, I think it is my duty to inform you that I have made +this little addition to the bountiful supper supplied by you and the +members of this party, on behalf of my friends, Mr. and Miss Pettengill, +and myself. I trust that you will take as much pleasure in disposing of +it as I have in sending it. In the language of the poet I would now say, +'Fall to and may good digestion wait on appetite!'" + +Quincy's speech was received with applause. The hot coffee had arrived +and was soon circulating in cups, mugs, and tumblers. Everybody was +talking to everybody else at the same time, and all petty fueds, +prejudices, and animosities were, apparently, forgotten. + +The young fellows took the cue from Quincy, who, as soon as he had +finished his little speech, began filling the plates with the good +things provided, and passing them to the ladies, and in a short time all +had been waited upon. When both hunger and appetite had been satisfied, +Quincy again addressed the company. + +"In those small paper boxes," said he, "you will find some little +souvenirs, which you can keep to remind you of this very pleasant +evening, or you can eat them and remember how sweet they were." A +general laugh followed this remark. "In making your selection," +continued Quincy, "bear in mind that the boxes tied up with red ribbon +are for the ladies, while those having blue ribbons are for the +gentlemen." + +A rush was made for the table, and almost instantly each member of the +company became possessed of a souvenir and was busily engaged in untying +the ribbons. + +Again Quincy's voice was heard above the tumult. + +"In each package," cried he, "will be found printed on a slip of paper a +poetical selection. The poetry, like that found on valentines, is often +very poor, but the sentiment is there just the same. In the city the +plan that we follow is to pass our own slip to our left-hand neighbor +and he or she reads it." + +This was too much for the Professor. + +"I don't think," said he, "that we ought to foller that style of doin' +things jest because they do it that way in the city. We are pretty +independent in the country, like to do thing's our own way." + +"Oh! it don't make any difference to me," said Quincy; "in the city when +we get a good thing we are willing to share it with our partners or +friends; you know I said if you didn't wish to keep your souvenir, you +could eat it, and of course the poetical selection is part of the +souvenir." + +A peal of laughter greeted this sally, which rose to a shout when Strout +took his souvenir out of the box. It proved to be a large sugar bee, +very lifelike in appearance and having a little wad of paper rolled up +and tucked under one of the wings. + +As Strout spread out the slip of paper with his fingers, loud cries of +"Eat it!" "Read it!" and "Pass it along!" came from the company. The +Professor stood apparently undecided what course to pursue, when Tilly +James, who was standing at his left, grabbed it from his fingers, and +running to the end of the table, stood beside young Hill with an +expression that seemed to say, "This is my young man, and I know he will +protect me." + +Loud cries of "Read it, Tilly!" came from all parts of the table. + +"Not unless Professor Strout is willing," said Tilly with mock humility. + +All eyes were turned upon Strout, who, seeing that he had nothing to +gain by objecting, cried out, "Oh, go ahead; what do I care about such +nonsense!" + +Tilly then read with much dramatic expression the following poetical +effusion: + + "How does the wicked bumblebee + Employ the shining hours, + In stinging folks that he dislikes, + Instead of sipping flowers." + +Another loud laugh greeted this; largely due to the comical expression +on Tilly James's face, which so far upset Quincy's habitual gravity that +he was obliged to smile in spite of himself. + +If Strout felt the shot he did not betray it, but turned to Huldy, who +stood at his right, and said, "Now, Miss Mason, let me read your poetry +for you, as they do it in the city." + +Huldy hesitated, holding the slip of paper between her fingers, "Oh! +that ain't fair," said Strout. "I've set you a good example, now you +mustn't squeal. Come, walk right up to the trough." + +"I'm no pig," protested Huldy. + +As Strout leaned over to take the paper he said in an undertone, "No, +you are a little dear;" whereat Huldy's face flushed a bright crimson. + +Strout cleared his voice and then read: + + "Come wreathe your face with smiles, my dear, + A husband you'll find within the year." + +This was greeted with laughter, clapping of hands, and cries of "Who is +it, Huldy?" + +The Professor looked at Huldy inquiringly, but she averted her eyes. He +leaned over and said in an undertone, "May I keep this?" + +Huldy looked up and said in a tone that was heard by every one at the +table, "I don't care; if you like it better than that one about the +bumblebee you can have it." + +The Professor then turned to Quincy and said, "Perhaps Mr. Sawyer will +oblige the company by passing his poetry along, as they do it in the +city." + +Quincy answered quickly, "Why, certainly," and handed the slip to his +left-hand neighbor, who chanced to be Miss Seraphina Cotton, who was the +teacher in the public school located at Mason's Corner. + +She prided herself on her elocutionary ability, and read the following +with great expression: + + "Though wealth and fame fall to my lot, + I'd much prefer a little cot, + In which, apart from care and strife, + I'd love my children and my wife." + +Strout laughed outright. + +"By the way, Mr. Sawyer," said he, "have you seen any little cot round +here that you'd swap your Beacon Street house for?" + +"I've got my eye on some real estate in this town," said Quincy, "and if +you own it perhaps we can make a trade." + +'Zekiel Pettengill passed his slip to Lindy Putnam; it ran thus: + + "'An honest man's the noblest work of God,' + No nobler lives than he who tills the sod." + +This was greeted with shouts and cries of "Good for 'Zeke!" while one of +Cobb's twins, who possessed a thin, high voice, cried out, "He's all +wool and a yard wide." + +This provoked more shouts and hand-clapping, and 'Zekiel blushed like a +peony. + +Lindy Putnam handed her slip to Quincy; he took in its meaning at a +glance and looked at her inquiringly. + +Strout saw the glance and cried out, "Oh, come, now; don't leave out +nothin'; read it jist as it's writ." + +Lindy nodded to Quincy and he read: + + "There is no heart but hath some wish unfilled, + There is no soul without some longing killed, + With heart and soul work for thy heart's desire. + And turn not back for storm, nor flood, nor fire." + +"This is gittin' quite tragic," said Strout. "I guess we've had all we +want to eat and drink, and have listened to all the bad poetry we want +ter, and I move--" + +"Second the motion," cried Abner Stiles. + +"And I move," continued Strout, "that we git back inter the kitchen, and +have a little dance jist to shake our suppers down." + +After the company returned to the kitchen, Abner was again lifted to his +elevated position on the kitchen table, and the fun began again. There +was no doubt that in telling stories Abner Stiles often drew the long +bow, but it was equally true that he had no superior in Eastborough and +vicinity on the violin, or the fiddle, as he preferred to call it. He +was now in his glory. His fiddle was tucked under his chin, a red silk +handkerchief with large yellow polka dots protecting the violin from +injury from his stubbly beard rather than his chin from being injured by +the instrument. + +After a few preliminary chords, Abner struck up the peculiar dance +movement very popular in those days, called "The Cure." As if +prearranged, Hiram Maxwell and Mandy Skinner ran to the centre of the +room and began singing the words belonging to the dance. Abner gradually +increased the speed of the melody, and the singers conformed, thereto. +Faster and faster the music went, and higher and higher the dancers +jumped until the ceiling prevented any further progress upward. They +leaned forward and backward, they leaned from side to side, but still +kept up their monotonous leaps into the air. Finally, when almost +exhausted, they sank into chairs hastily brought for them, amid the +applause of the party. + +Quincy had seen the dance at the city theatres, but acknowledged to +himself that the country version was far ahead of the city one. At the +same time it seemed to him that the dance savored of barbarism, and he +recalled pictures and stories of Indian dances where the participants +fell to the ground too weak to rise. + +"I put my right hand in," called out one of the fellows. Cries of "Oh, +yes, that's it!" came from the company, and they arranged themselves in +two rows, facing each other and running the length of the long room. +They were in couples, as they came to the party. Abner played the melody +on his violin, and the fellows and girls sang these words: + + "I put my right hand in, + I put my right hand out, + I give my right hand a shake, shake, shake, + And I turn myself about." + +As they sang the last line they did turn themselves about so many times +that it seemed a wonder to Quincy, who was an amused spectator, how they +kept upon their feet. + +Seeing that one of the young ladies in the line was without a partner, +Quincy took his place beside her and joined in the merriment as heartily +as the rest. Then followed all the changes of "I put my left hand in," +"I put my right foot in," "I put my left foot in," and so on until the +whole party was nearly as much exhausted as Hiram and Mandy had been. + +At this moment the door leading to the parlor opened and Deacon Mason +entered, accompanied by his wife. They were greeted with shouts of +laughter. Quincy looked at them with astonishment, and had it not been +for their familiar faces, which they had not tried to disguise, he would +not have recognized them. + +Out of compliment to their guests, the Deacon and his wife had gone back +to the days of their youth. Probably from some old chest in the garret +each had resurrected a costume of fifty years before. They advanced into +the room, smiling and bowing to the delighted spectators on either side. +They went directly to Abner, and the latter bent over to hear what the +Deacon whispered in his ear. The Deacon then went to Strout and +whispered something to him. + +Strout nodded, and turning to the company said, "As it's now half past +'leven and most time for honest folks to be abed and rogues a runnin', +out of compliment to Miss Huldy's grandpa and grandma, who have honored +us with their presence this evenin', we will close these festivities +with a good old-fashioned heel and toe Virginia reel. Let 'er go, Abner, +and keep her up till all the fiddle strings are busted." + +Like trained soldiers, they sprang to their places. Quincy and his +partner took places near the end of the line. He explained to her that +he had never danced a reel, but thought he could easily learn from +seeing the others, and he told her that when their turn came she need +not fear but that he would do his part. + +The Deacon and his wife led off, and their performance caused great +enthusiasm. Sam Hill was not a good dancer, so he resigned Miss Tilly +James to Professor Strout. Miss James was a superb dancer, and as Quincy +looked at her his face showed his appreciation. + +[Illustration: "THE DEACON AND HIS WIFE LED OFF."] + +His partner saw the glance, and looking up to him said, "Don't you wish +you could dance as well as that?" + +"I wish I could," said Quincy. "I have no doubt you can," he added, +looking at his partner's rosy face. + +"Well," said she, "you do the best you can, and I'll do the same." + +Professor Strout and Tilly did finely, and their performance gained them +an encore, which they granted. One by one the couples went under the +arch of extended arms, and one by one they showed their Terpsichorean +agility on the kitchen floor, over which Mandy Skinner had thoughtfully +sprinkled a handful of house sand. + +At last came the turn of Quincy and his little partner, whose name was +unknown to him. He observed the grace with which she went through the +march, and when the dance came be wished he could have stood still and +watched her. Instead, he entered with his whole soul into the dance, and +at its conclusion he was astonished to hear the burst of applause and +cheers that fell upon his ears. + +"Come along!" said his partner, and taking him by the hand she drew him +back through the arch, and the dance was repeated. + +Three times in succession was this done in response to enthusiastic +applause, and Quincy was beginning to think that he would soon fall in +his tracks. He had no idea that any such fate would befall his partner, +for she seemed equal to an indefinite number of repetitions. + +But, as has been said before, to all good things an end must come at +last, and when the old-fashioned Connecticut clock on the mantelpiece +clanged out the midnight hour, as if by magic a hush came over the +company and the jollities came to an end. Then followed a rush for +capes, and coats, and jackets, and shawls, and hats. Then came good-byes +and good-nights, and then the girls all kissed Huldy and her mother, +wished them long life and happiness, while their escorts stood quietly +by thinking of the pleasant homeward trips, and knowing in their hearts +that they should treasure more the pressure of the hand or the single +good-night kiss yet to come than they did the surprise party kisses that +had been theirs during the evening. + +Mrs. Mason and 'Zekiel had prepared Alice for her homeward trip. Quincy +took occasion to seek out his partner in the reel to say good night, and +as he shook hands with her he said, "Would you consider me rude if I +asked your name and who taught you to dance?" + +"Oh! no," she replied; "my name is Bessie Chisholm. I teach the dancing +school at Eastborough Centre, and Mr. Stiles always plays for me." + +"Is he going to see you home to-night?" asked Quincy. + +"Oh! no," said she; "I came with my brother. Here, Sylvester," cried +she, and a smart-looking, country fellow, apparently about twenty-one +years of age, came towards them. "I'm ready," said Bessie to him, and +then, turning to Quincy, "Mr. Sawyer, make you acquainted with my +brother, Sylvester Chisholm." + +"Ah, you know my name," said Quincy. + +"I guess everybody in Eastborough knows who you are," retorted she with +a toss of her head, as she took her brother's arm and walked away. + +Hiram had brought 'round the Pettengill sleigh from the barn. 'Zekiel, +Alice, Quincy, and Mandy were the last of the party to leave. Quincy +took his old place beside Alice, while Mandy sat on the front seat with +'Zekiel. + +It was a beautiful moonlight night and the ride home was a most +enjoyable one. + +"I am sorry," said Quincy to Alice, "that you could not take part in +more of the games. I enjoyed them very much." + +"Oh, Mrs. Mason kept me informed of your actions," said Alice with a +laugh. + +Halfway to Hill's grocery they passed the Professor and Abner walking +home to Mrs. Hawkins's boarding house. They called out, "Good night and +pleasant dreams," and drove rapidly on. In the Square a number of the +party had stopped to say good night again before taking the various +roads that diverged from it, and another interchange of "Good nights" +followed. + +When Strout and Abner reached the Square it was deserted. There was no +light shining in the boarding house. The kerosene lamps and matches were +on a table in the front entry. Strout lighted his lamp and went +upstairs. Strout's room was one flight up, while Abner's was up two. As +they reached Strout's room he said, "Come in, Abner, and warm up. Comin' +out of that hot room into this cold air has given me a chill." He went +to a closet and brought out a bottle, a small pitcher, and a couple of +spoons. "Have some rum and molasses, nothin' better for a cold." + +They mixed their drinks in a couple of tumblers, which Strout found in +the closet. Then he took a couple of cigars from his pocket and gave one +to Abner. They drank and smoked for some time in silence. + +At last Abner said, "How are you satisfied with this evenin's +perceedin's?" + +"Wall, all things considered," said Strout, "I think it was the most +successful party ever given in this 'ere town, if I did do it." + +"That's so," responded Abner sententiously. "Warn't you a bit struck up +when that city feller come in?" + +"Not a bit," said Strout. "You know when I come back, you see it was so +cussed hot, yer know I said it was the heat, but I knew they wuz there. +Mrs. Mason, told me." + +"Did she?" asked Abner, with wide-opened eyes. "I thought it was one on +you." + +"When I went down to the road before the bugle was blown," said Strout, +"Mrs. Mason told me they was there. You see, Huldy didn't suspect +nothin' about the party and so she asked them over to tea. She sorter +expected they would go right after tea, but they got singin' songs and +tellin' stories, and Huldy saw they had come to stay." + +"But," said Abner, "that city feller must have known all about it +aforehand or how could he git that cake and frozen stuff down from +Bosting so quick?" + +"Didn't you say," said Strout, "that you seen them going over to +Eastborough Centre about five o'clock?" + +"Yes," replied Abner, "but how did he know when it was? Some one must +have told him, I guess." + +"There are times, Abner Stiles," exclaimed Strout, "when you are too +almighty inquisitive." + +"Wall, I only wanted to know, so I could tell the truth when folks asked +me," said Abner. + +"That's all right," said Strout. "Cuddent you guess who told him? 'Twas +that Hiram Maxwell. I've been pumping him about the city chap, and of +course, I've had to tell him somethin' for swaps. But to-morrow when I +meet him I'll tell him I don't want anythin' more to do with a +tittle-tattle tell-tale like him." + +"What d'ye think of that pome 'bout the bumblebee?" drawled Abner. + +"Oh, that was a put-up job," said Strout. + +"How could that be?" asked Abner, "when you took it out of your own +box?" + +"Well," rejoined Strout, "he'll find I'm the wustest kind of a bumblebee +if he stirs me up much more. When my dander's up a hornet's nest ain't a +patch to me." + +"I kinder fancied," continued Abner, "that the reason he had them fancy +boxes sent down was because he sorter thought our pound packages would +be rather ornary." + +"I guess you've hit it 'bout right," remarked Strout; "them city swells +would cheat their tailor so as to make a splurge and show how much money +they've got. I guess he thought as how I'd never seen ice cream, but I +showed him I knew all about it. I eat three sasserful myself." + +"I beat you on that," said Abner; "I eat a sasserful of each kind." + +As Abner finished speaking he emptied his glass and then reached forward +for the bottle in order to replenish it. Strout's glass was also empty, +and being much nearer to the bottle than Abner was, he had it in his +possession before Abner could reach it. When he put it down again it was +beyond his companion's reach. Abner turned some molasses into has +tumbler, and then said, "Don't you think 'twas purty plucky of that city +feller to come to our party to-night?" + +"No, I don't," said Strout, "he jest sneaked in with 'Zeke Pettengill +and his sister. He'll find out that I'm no slouch here in Eastborough. +When I marry the Deacon's daughter and git the Deacon's money, and am +elected tax collector agin, and buy the grocery store, and I'm app'inted +postmaster at Mason's Corner, he'll diskiver that it's harder fightin' +facts like them than it is Bob Wood's fists. I kinder reckon there won't +be anybody that won't take off their hats to me, and there won't be any +doubts as to who runs this 'ere town. That city feller's health will +improve right off, and he'll go up to Boston a wiser man than when he +come down." + +"That's so," remarked Abner; and as he spoke he stood up as if to +emphasize his words. Before he sat down, however, he reached across the +table for the bottle, but again Strout was too quick for him. + +"I was only goin' to drink yer health an' success to yer," said Abner. + +"All right," said Strout, "make it half a glass and I'll jine yer." + +The two men clinked their glasses, drank, and smacked their lips. + +"If you don't go to bed now you won't git up till to-morrer," said the +Professor. + +"Yer mean ter-day," chuckled Abner, as he got up and walked 'round to +the other side of the table, where he had left his lamp. + +"I guess," remarked Strout, "I'll have some more fire. I ain't goin' to +bed jest yet. I've got some heavy thinkin' to do." + +While he was upon his knees arranging the wood, starting up the embers +with the bellows, Abner reached across the table and got possession of +his tumbler, from which he had fortunately removed the spoon. Grasping +the bottle he filled it to the brim and tossed it down in three big +swallows. As he replaced the tumbler on the table, Strout turned round. + +"There was 'bout a spoonful left in the bottom of my tumbler," said +Abner, apologetically. "Them that drinks last drinks best," said he, as +he took up his lamp. "I guess that nightcap won't hurt me," he muttered +to himself as he stumbled up the flight of stairs that led to his room. + +The fire burned brightly and Strout resumed his seat and drew the bottle +towards him. He lifted it up and looked at it. + +"The skunk!" said he half aloud; "a man that'll steal rum will hook +money next. Wall, it won't be many days before that city chap will buy +his return ticket to Boston. Then I shan't have any further use for +Abner. Let me see," he soliloquized, "what I've got to do to-morrer? Git +the Deacon's money at ten, propose to Huldy 'bout half past, git home to +dinner at twelve, buy the grocery store 'bout quarter-past three; +that'll be a pretty good day's work!" + +Then the Professor mixed up a nightcap for himself and was soon sleeping +soundly, regardless of the broad smile upon the face of the Man in the +Moon, who looked down upon the town with an expression that seemed to +indicate that he considered himself the biggest man in it. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVII. + +TOWN POLITICS. + + +At the table next morning the conversation was all about the surprise +party. The Cobb twins declared that without exception it was the best +party that had ever been given at Mason's Corner, to their knowledge. + +After breakfast Quincy told Ezekiel that he was going over to +Eastborough Centre that morning; in fact, he should like the single +horse and team for the next three days, as he had considerable business +to attend to. + +He drove first to the office of the express company; but to his great +disappointment he was informed that no package had arrived for him on +the morning train. Thinking that possibly some explanation of the +failure of the bank to comply with his wishes might have been sent by +mail, he went to the post office; there he found a letter from the +cashier of his bank, informing him that he had taken the liberty to send +him enclosed, instead of the five hundred dollars in bills, his own +check certified for that amount, and stated that the local bank would +undoubtedly cash the same for him. + +As he turned to leave the post office he met Sylvester Chisholm. Quincy +greeted the young man pleasantly, and asked him if he were in business +at the Centre. Sylvester replied that he was the compositor and local +newsman on the "Eastborough Express," a weekly newspaper issued every +Friday. The bank being located in the same building, Quincy drove him +over. Sylvester asked Quincy if he would not step in and look at their +office. Quincy did so. A man about thirty years of age arose from a +chair and stepped forward as they entered, saying, "Hello, Chisholm, I +have been waiting nearly half an hour for you." + +"Mr. Appleby, Mr. Sawyer," said Sylvester, introducing the two men. + +"Mr. Appleby occupies a similar position on the 'Montrose Messenger' to +the one that I hold on the 'Eastborough Express,'" said Sylvester, by +way of explanation to Quincy. "We exchange items; that is, he supplies +me with items relating to Montrose that are supposed to be interesting +to the inhabitants of Eastborough, and I return the compliment. Here are +your items," said Sylvester, passing an envelope to Mr. Appleby. + +Mr. Appleby seemed to be in great haste, and with a short "Good morning" +left the office. + +"He is a great friend of Professor Strout's," remarked Sylvester. + +"You speak as though you were not," said Quincy. + +"Well," replied Sylvester, "I used to think a good deal more of him at +one time than I do now, not on account of anything that he has done to +me, but I do not think he has treated one of my dearest friends just +right. Did you hear anything, Mr. Sawyer, about his being engaged or +likely to be engaged to Deacon Mason's daughter, Huldy?" + +Quincy looked at Sylvester and then laughed outright. + +"No, I haven't heard of any such thing," he replied, "and considering +certain information that I have in my mind and which I know to be +correct, I do not think I ever shall." + +"Will you tell me what that information is?" asked Sylvester. + +"Well, perhaps I will," said Quincy, "if you will inform me why you wish +to know." + +"Well, the fact is," remarked Sylvester, "that for quite a while +Professor Strout and my sister Bessie, whom you saw last night at the +party and with whom you danced, kept company together, and everybody +over here to the Centre thought that they would be engaged and get +married one of these days; but since that concert at the Town Hall, +where you sang, a change of mind seems to have come over the Professor, +and he has not seen my sister except when they met by accident. She +thinks a good deal of him still, and although the man has done me no +harm personally, of course I do not feel very good toward the fellow who +makes my sister feel unhappy." + +"Now," said Quincy, "what I am going to say I am going to tell you for +your personal benefit and not for publication. I happen to know that +Miss Huldy Mason is engaged definitely to Mr. Ezekiel Pettengill, and +has been for some time. Now, promise me not to put that in your paper." + +"I promise," said Sylvester, "unless I obtain the same information from +some other source." + +"All right," rejoined Quincy, and shaking hands with the young man he +crossed the passageway and went into the bank. + +He presented his certified check, and the five hundred dollars in bills +were passed to him, and he placed them in his inside coat pocket. He was +turning to leave the bank when he met Deacon Mason just entering. + +"Ah, Deacon," said he, "have you come to draw some money? I think I have +just taken all the bank bills they have on hand." + +"I hope not," said the Deacon, "I kinder promised some one that I'd be +on hand about noon to-day with five hundred dollars that he wants to use +on a business matter this afternoon." + +Quincy took the Deacon by the arm and pulled him one side, out of +hearing of any other person in the room. + +"Say, Deacon Mason, I am going to ask you a question, which, of course, +you can answer or not, as you see fit; but if this business matter turns +out to be what I think it is, I may be able to save you considerable +trouble." + +"I don't think you would ask me any question that I ought not to +answer," replied the Deacon, glancing up at Quincy with a sly look in +his eye and a slight smile on his face. + +"Well," continued Quincy, "are you going to let Strout have that money +to pay down on account of the grocery store?" + +"Why, yes," said the Deacon, "I guess you have hit it about right. +Strout seemed to think that there warn't any doubt but what he could get +the store, but as he said the town clerk was willing to endorse his +note, I came over here last night just on purpose to find that out. I +kinder thought I was perfectly safe in letting him have the money." + +"Oh, you would be all right, Deacon, financially, if the town clerk or +any other good man endorsed his note; but you see Strout won't need the +money. I happen to know of another man that is going to bid on that +grocery store. How much money do you think Strout can command; how high +will he bid?" + +"Well, he told me," the Deacon answered, "that he had parties that would +back him up to the extent of two thousand dollars, and this five hundred +dollars that I was goin' to lend him would make twenty-five hundred, and +he had sort o' figured that the whole place, including the land and +buildings and stock, warn't wuth any more than that, and that Benoni +Hill would be mighty glad to get such a good offer." + +"That's all right," said Quincy, "but I happen to know a man that's +going to bid on that grocery store and he will have it if he has to bid +as high as five thousand dollars, and he is ready to put down the solid +cash for it without any notes." + +The Deacon glanced up at Quincy, and the sly look in his eye was more +pronounced than ever, while the smile on his face very much resembled a +grin. + +"I guess it must be some outside feller that is a-going to buy it +then," said the Deacon, "for I don't believe there is a man in +Eastborough that would put up five thousand dollars in cold cash for +that grocery store, unless he considered that he was paying for +something besides groceries when he bought it." + +"Well, I don't think, Deacon," continued Quincy, "that we need go +further into particulars; I think we understand each other; all is, you +come up to the auction this afternoon, and if the place is knocked down +to Strout I will let you have the five hundred dollars that I have here +in my pocket; besides, it would have been poor business policy for you +to let him have the money on that note before the sale; for if the store +was not sold to him you could not get back your money until the note +became due." + +"That's so," assented the Deacon. "Well, I've got to get home, cuz I +promised to meet him by twelve o'clock." + +"So have I," said Quincy, "for I have got to see the man who is going to +buy the grocery store and fix up a few business matters with him." + +Both men left the bank and got into their respective teams, which were +standing in front of the building. + +"Which road are you going, Deacon?" asked Quincy. + +"Waal, I guess, for appearance's sake, Mr. Sawyer, you better go on the +straight road, while I'll take the curved one. Yer know the curved one +leads right up to my barn door." + +"Yes, I know," said Quincy, "I found that out last night;" and the two +men parted. + +Quincy made quick time on his homeward trip. As he neared the Pettengill +house he saw Cobb's twins and Hiram standing in front of the barn. He +drove up and threw the reins to Bill Cobb, saying, "I shall want the +team again right after dinner;" and turning to Hiram, be said, "Come +down to Jacob's Parlor, I want to have a little talk with you." + +They entered the large wood shed that Ezekiel's father had called by +the quaint name just referred to, and took their old seats, Quincy in +the armchair and Hiram on the chopping block facing him. Hiram looked +towards the stove and Quincy said, "It is not very cold this morning, I +don't think we shall need a fire; besides, what I have got to say will +take but a short time. Now, young man," continued he, "how old did you +say you were?" + +"I am about thirty," replied Hiram. + +"You are about thirty?" repeated Quincy, "and yet you are satisfied to +stay with Deacon Mason and do his odd jobs for about ten dollars a month +and your board, I suppose." + +"Well, he isn't a mean man," said Hiram, "he gives me ten dollars a +month and my board, and two suits of clothes a year, including shoes and +hats." + +"Have you no ambition to do any better?" asked Quincy. + +"Ambition?" cried Hiram, "why I'm full of it. I've thought of more than +a dozen different kinds of business that I would like to go into and +work day and night to make my fortune, but what can a feller do if he +hasn't any capital and hasn't got any backer?" + +"Well, the best thing that you can do, Hiram, is to find a partner; +that's what people do when they have no money; they look around and find +somebody who has." + +"You mean," said Hiram, "that I've got to look 'round and find some one +who has got some money, who's willin' to let me have part of it. There's +lots of fellers in Eastborough that have got money, but they hang to it +tighter'n the bark to a tree." + +"And yet," said Quincy, "a man like Obadiah Strout can go around this +town and get parties to back him up to the extent of twenty-five hundred +dollars." + +"Yes, I know," answered Hiram, "but he couldn't do that if the parties +didn't have a mortgage on the place, and o' course if Strout can't keep +up his payments they'll grab the store and get the hull business. I +happen to know that one of the parties that's goin' to put his name on +one of Strout's notes said quietly to another party that told a feller +that I heerd it from that it wouldn't be more'n a year afore he'd be +runnin' that grocery store himself." + +"Well, Hiram Maxwell, I've got some money that I am not using just now. +You know that I've got quite a large account to settle with that +Professor Strout, and I can afford to pay pretty handsomely to get even +with him. Now do you think if you had that grocery store that you could +make a success of it?" + +"Could I?" cried Hiram, "waal, I know I could. I know every man, woman, +and child in this town, and there isn't one of them that's got anythin' +agin me that I knows of." + +"I'd back you up," said Quincy, "but I've got something against you, and +I will not agree to put my money into that store until you explain to me +something that you told me several weeks ago. I don't say but that you +told me the truth as far as it went, but you didn't tell me the whole +truth, and that's what I find fault with you for." + +Hiram's eyes had dilated, and he looked at Quincy with a wild glance of +astonishment. Could he believe his ears? Here was this young man, a +millionaire's son, saying that he would have backed him up in business +but for the fact that he had told him a wrong story. Hiram scratched his +head and looked perplexed. + +"True as I live, Mr. Sawyer, I don't remember ever tellin' you a lie +since I've known yer. I may have added a little somethin' to some of my +stories that I have brought inter yer, jest to make them a little more +interesting and p'r'aps ter satisfy a little pussonal spite that I might +have agin some o' the parties that I was tellin' yer about, but I know +as well's I'm standin' here that I never told yer nothin' in the way of +a lie to work yer any injury. You've alwus treated me white, and if +there's one thing that Mandy Skinner says she can't abear, it's a man +that tells lies." + +"Then," remarked Quincy with a smile, "you think a good deal of Miss +Mandy Skinner's opinion?" + +"I ain't never seen any girl whose opinion I think more of," answered +Hiram. + +"Did you ever see any girl that you thought more of?" continued Quincy. + +"Waal, I guess it's an open secret 'round town," said Hiram, "that I'd +marry her quicker'n lightnin', if she'd have me." + +"Well, why won't she have you?" persisted Quincy. + +"That's easy to answer," said Hiram. "You stated the situation purty +plainly yourself when you counted up my income, ten dollars a month and +my food and two suits of clothes. How could I pervide for Mandy out o' +that?" + +"Well," asked Quincy, "supposing I bought that grocery store for you and +you got along well and made money. Do you think Mandy would consent to +become Mrs. Maxwell?" + +"I can't say for sure, Mr. Sawyer, but I think Miss Mandy Skinner would +be at a loss for any good reason for refusin' me, in case what you jest +talked about come to pass," said Hiram. + +"Now," proceeded Quincy, "we will settle that little matter that I +referred to a short time ago. You remember you were telling me your war +experiences. You said you were never shot, but that you were hit with a +fence rail at the battle of Cedar Mountain." + +"Waal, I guess if you git my war record you will find I didn't tell yer +any lie about that." + +"Well, no," said Quincy, "that's all right; but why didn't you tell me +that on one occasion, when the captain of your company was shot down, +together with half the attacking force, that you took his body on your +back and bore him off the field, at the same time sounding the retreat +with your bugle? Why didn't you tell me that on two separate occasions, +when the color sergeants of your company were shot and the flag fell +from their grasp, that you took the flag and bore it forward, sounding +the charge, until you were relieved of your double duty? In other words, +when there were so many good things that you could say for yourself, why +didn't you say them?" + +Hiram thought for a moment and then he said, "Waal, I didn't think that +I had any right to interduce outside matters not connected with what we +were talkin' about. You asked me if I'd ever been shot, and I told yer +how I got hit; but I didn't consider the luggin' the cap'n off the field +or h'istin' Old Glory, when there wasn't anybody else to attend to it +jest that minute, come under the head of bein' shot." + +Quincy laughed outright and extended his hand, which Hiram took. Quincy +gave it a hearty shake and said, "Hiram, I think you're all right. I've +decided to buy that grocery store for you for two reasons. The first is +that you have served me well; Mandy has been very kind and attentive to +me, and I want to see you both prosper and be happy. My second reason +relates to the Professor, and, of course, does not need any explanation, +so far as you're concerned. Now, you go up to the house, put on your +best suit of clothes, tell the Deacon that I want your company this +afternoon; I will drive up your way about two o'clock, and we will go to +the auction." + +While these events were taking place, others, perhaps equally +interesting, were transpiring in another part of Mason's Corner. The +Professor had not arisen until late, but ten o'clock found him dressed +in his best and surveying his personal appearance with a pleased +expression. He felt that this was a day big with the fate of Professor +Strout and Mason's Corner! + +When he left Mrs. Hawkins's boarding house he went straight to Deacon +Mason's. + +"Is the Deacon in?" he asked, as pleasant-faced Mrs. Mason opened the +door. + +"No, he has gone over to the Centre. He said he'd got to go to the bank +to get some money for somebody, but that he'd be back 'tween 'leven and +twelve." + +"Oh, that's all right," said Strout, stepping inside the door; "is Miss +Huldy in?" + +"Yes, she's in the parlor; she went in to practise on her music lesson, +but I guess she's reading a book instead, for I haven't heard the piano +since she went in half an hour ago." + +"Waal, I'll step in and have a little chat with her whilst I'm waiting +for the Deacon," said the Professor; "but you just let me know as soon +as the Deacon comes, won't you, Mrs. Mason?" + +Mrs. Mason replied that she would, and the Professor opened the parlor +door and stepped in. + +"Oh, good morning, Miss Mason," said the Professor; "I hope I see you +enjoying your usual good health after last evening's excitement." + +Huldy arose and shook hands with the Professor. + +"Oh, yes," said she, "I got up a little late this morning, but I never +felt better in my life. It was very kind of you, Mr. Strout, and of my +other friends, to show your appreciation in such a pleasant manner, and +I shall never forget your kindness." + +"Waal, you know, I've always taken a great interest in you, Miss Mason." + +"I know you have in my singing," answered Huldy, "and I know that I have +improved a great deal since you have been giving me lessons." + +"But I don't refer wholly to your singin'," said the Professor. + +"Oh, you mean my playing," remarked Huldy. "Well, I don't know that I +shall ever be a brilliant performer on the piano, but I must acknowledge +that you have been the cause of my improving in that respect also." + +"Waal, I don't mean," continued the Professor, "jest your singin' and +your playin'. I've been interested in you as a whole." + +"I don't exactly see what you mean by that, Mr. Strout, unless you mean +my ability as a housekeeper. I am afraid if you ask my mother, she will +not give me a very flattering recommendation." + +"Oh, you know enough about housekeepin' to satisfy me," said the +Professor. + +Huldy by this time divined what was on the Professor's mind; in fact, +she had known it for some time, but had assured herself that he would +never have the courage to put his hints, and suggestions, and allusions, +into an actual declaration. So she replied with some asperity, "What +made you think I was looking for a situation as housekeeper?" + +"Oh, nothin'," said he, "I wasn't thinkin' anythin' about what I thought +you thought, but I was a-thinkin' about somethin' that I thought +myself." + +Huldy looked up inquiringly. + +"What would you say," asked the Professor, "if I told you that I thought +of gettin' married?" + +"Well," replied Huldy, "I think my first question would be, 'have you +asked her?'" + +"No, I haven't yet," said the Professor. + +"Well, then, my advice to you," continued Huldy, "is don't delay; if you +do perhaps some other fellow may ask her first, and she may consent, not +knowing that you think so much of her." + +"Well, I've thought of that," said the Professor. "I guess you're right. +What would you say," continued he, "if I told you that I had asked her?" + +"Well, I should say," answered Huldy, "that you told me only a minute or +two ago that you hadn't." + +"Well, I hadn't then," said the Professor. + +"I don't really see how you have had any chance to ask her, as you say +you have," remarked Huldy, "in the short time that has passed since you +said you hadn't. I am not very quick at seeing a joke, Professor, but +p'raps I can understand what you mean, if you will tell me when you +asked her, and where you asked her to marry you." + +"Just now! Right here!" cried the Professor; and before Huldy could +interpose he had arisen from his chair and had fallen on his knees +before her. + +Huldy looked at him with a startled expression, then as the whole matter +dawned upon her she burst into a loud laugh. The Professor looked up +with a grieved expression on his face. Huldy became grave instantly. + +"I wasn't laughing at you, Professor. I'm sure I'm grateful for your +esteem and friendship, but it never entered my head till this moment +that you had any idea of asking me to be your wife. What made you think +such a thing possible?" + +The Professor was quite portly, and it was with some little difficulty +that he regained his feet, and his face was rather red with the exertion +when he had succeeded. + +"Well, you see," said he, "I never thought much about it till that city +feller came down here to board; then the whole town knew that you and +'Zeke Pettengill had had a fallin' out, and then by and by that city +feller who was boardin' with your folks went away, and I kinder thought +that as you didn't have any steady feller--" + +Huldy broke in,--"You thought I was in the market again and that your +chances were as good as those of any one else?" + +"Yes, that's jest it," said the Professor. "You put it jest as I would +have said it, if you hadn't said it fust." + +"Well, really, Professor, I can't understand what gave you and the whole +town the idea that there was any falling out between Mr. Pettengill and +myself. We have grown up together, we have always loved each other very +much, and we have been engaged to be married--" + +"Since when?" broke in the Professor, excitedly. + +"Since the day before I last engaged you to give me music lessons," +replied Huldy. + +What the Professor would have said in reply to this will never be known; +for at that moment Mrs. Mason opened the door, and looking in, said, +"The Deacon's come." + +Strout grasped his hat, and with a hurried bow and "Good morning" to +Huldy, left the room, closing the door behind him. It must be said for +the Professor that he bore defeat with great equanimity, and when he +reached the great kitchen and shook hands with Deacon Mason, who had +just come in from the barn, the casual observer would have noticed +nothing peculiar in his expression. + +"Waal, Deacon," said he in a low tone, "did you git the money?" + +"Oh, I've 'ranged 'bout the money," said the Deacon; "but I had a talk +with my lawyer, and he said it wasn't good bizness for me to pay over +the five hundred dollars till the store was actually knocked down to +you. Here's that note of yourn that the town clerk endorsed las' night. +Neow, when the auctioneer says the store is yourn I'll give yer the five +hundred dollars and take the note. I'll be up to the auction by +half-past two, so you needn't worry, it'll be jest the same as though +yer had the money in yer hand." + +Strout looked a little disturbed; but thinking the matter over quickly, +he decided that he had nothing to gain by arguing the question with the +Deacon; so saying, "Be sure and be on hand, Deacon, for it's a sure +thing my gettin' that store, if I have the cash to pay down," he left +the house. + +He went up the hill and turned the corner on the way back to his +boarding house. When he got out of sight of the Deacon's house he +stopped, clenched his hands, shut his teeth firmly together and stamped +his foot on the ground; then he ejaculated in a savage whisper, "Women +are wussern catamounts; you know which way a catamount's goin' to jump. +I wonder whether she was honest about that, or whether she's been +foolin' me all this time; she'll be a sorry girl when I git that store +and 'lected tax collector, and git app'inted postmaster. I've got three +tricks left, ef I have lost two. I wonder who it was put that idea into +the Deacon's head not ter let me have thet money till the sale was over. +I bet a dollar it wuz thet city feller. Abner says thet he met Appleby +on his way back to Montrose, and he told him thet he saw thet city +feller and the Deacon drive off tergether from front o' the bank. Oh! +nonsense, what would the son of a millionaire want of a grocery store in +a little country town like this?" and he went into his boarding house to +dinner. + +A few moments after two o'clock Strout could restrain his impatience no +longer, and leaving his boarding house he walked over to the grocery +store. Quite a number of the Mason's Corner people were gathered in the +Square, for to them an auction sale was as good as a show. Quincy had +not arrived, and the Professor tried to quiet his nerves by walking up +and down the platform and smoking a cigar. The crowd gradually +increased, quite a number coming in teams from Montrose and from +Eastborough Centre. One of the teams from Montrose brought the +auctioneer, Mr. Beers, with whom Strout was acquainted. He gave the +auctioneer a cigar, and they walked up and down the platform smoking and +talking about everything else but the auction sale. It was a matter of +professional dignity with Mr. Barnabas Beers, auctioneer, not to be on +too friendly terms with bidders before an auction. He had found that it +had detracted from his importance and had lowered bids, if he allowed +would be purchasers to converse with him concerning the articles to be +sold. It was their business, he maintained in a heated argument one +evening in the hotel at Montrose, to find out by personal inspection the +condition and value of what was to be sold, and it was his business, he +said, to know as little about it as possible, for the less he knew the +less it would interfere with his descriptive powers when, hammer in +hand, he took his position on the bench. Having established a +professional standing, Barnabas Beers was not a man to step down, and +though the Professor, after a while, endeavored to extract some +information from the auctioneer as to whether there was likely to be +many bidders, he finally gave it up in despair, for he found Mr. Beers +as uncommunicative as a hitching post, as he afterwards told Abner +Stiles. + +About half-past two Deacon Mason drove into the Square, and the +Professor went to meet him, and shook hands with him. In a short time +his other backers, who had agreed to endorse his notes to the amount of +two thousand dollars, arrived upon the scene, and he took occasion to +welcome them in a manner that could not escape the attention of the +crowd. It was now ten minutes of three, and the auctioneer stepped upon +the temporary platform that had been erected for him, and bringing his +hammer down upon the head of a barrel that had been placed in front of +him, he read, in a loud voice, which reached every portion of the +Square, the printed notice that for several weeks had hung upon the +fences, sheds, and trees of Mason's Corner, Eastborough Centre, West +Eastborough, and Montrose. + +It was now three o'clock, for that hour was rung out by the bell on the +Rev. Caleb Howe's church. The auctioneer prefaced his inquiry for bids +by the usual grandiloquence in use by members of that fraternity, +closing his oration with that often-heard remark, "How much am I +offered?" + +The Professor, who was standing by the side of Deacon Mason's team, +called out in a loud voice, "Fifteen hundred!" + +"Well, I'll take that just for a starter," said the auctioneer, "but of +course no sane man not fitted to be the inmate of an idiotic asylum +thinks that this fine piece of ground, this long-built and +long-established grocery store, filled to overflowing with all the +necessities and delicacies of the season, a store which has been in +successful operation for nearly forty years, and of which the good will +is worth a good deal more than the sum just bid, will be sold for any +such preposterous figure! Gentlemen, I am listening." + +Suddenly a voice from the rear of the crowd called out, "T-o-o-t-o to +to-oo-two thousand!" + +As if by magic, every head was turned, for the majority of those in the +crowd recognized the voice at once. There was but one man in Mason's +Corner who stammered, and that man was Hiram Maxwell. + +They turned, and all saw seated in the Pettengill team Hiram Maxwell, +and beside him sat Mr. Sawyer from Boston. + +"Oh, that's more like it," said the auctioneer. "Competition is the life +of trade, and is particularly pleasing to an auctioneer. The first +gentleman who bid now sees that there is another gentleman who has a +better knowledge of the value of this fine property than he has evinced +up to the present moment. There is still an opportunity for him to see +the error of his ways, and put himself on record as being an observing +and intelligent person." + +All eyes were turned upon Strout at these words from the auctioneer; his +face reddened, and he called out, "Twenty-five hundred!" + +"Still better," cried the auctioneer; "the gentleman, as I supposed, has +shown that he is a person of discernment; he did not imagine that I was +engaged simply to make a present of this fine establishment to any one +who would offer any sum that suited his convenience for it. He knew as +well as I did that there would be a sharp contest to secure this fine +property. Now, gentlemen, I am offered twenty-five hundred, twenty-five +hundred I am offered, twenty-five hundred--" + +Again a voice was heard from the team on the outer limits of the crowd, +"Twenty-five fifty!" + +The crowd again turned their gaze upon Strout; the Professor was not an +extravagant man, and he had saved a little money. He had in his pocket +at the time a little over a hundred dollars; he would not put it in the +bank, for, he argued, if he did everybody in town would know how much +money he had; so he called out, "Twenty-six hundred!" + +"Ah, gentlemen," continued the auctioneer, "let me thank you for the +keen appreciation that you show of a good thing. When I looked this +property over I said to myself, the bidders will tumble over themselves +to secure this fine property'; and I have not been disappointed." + +Again the faces of the crowd were turned towards the team in which sat +Quincy and Hiram. Hiram stood up in the team, and masking a horn with +his hands, shouted at the top of his voice, for the time overcoming his +propensity to stammer, "Twenty-seven hundred!" + +"Better! still better!" cried the auctioneer; "we are now approaching +the figure that I had placed on this property, and my judgment is +usually correct. I am offered twenty-seven hundred, twenty-seven +hundred; who will go one hundred better?" + +At this moment Abner Stiles, who had been watching the proceedings with +eyes distended and mouth wide open, went up to Strout and whispered +something in his ear. Strout's face brightened, he grasped Abner's hand +and shook it warmly, then turning towards the auctioneer cried out, +"Twenty-eight hundred!" + +By this time the crowd was getting excited. To them it was a battle +royal; nothing of the kind had ever been seen at Mason's Corner before. +A great many in the crowd were friends of Strout's, and admired his +pluck in standing out so well. They had seen at a glance that Abner +Stiles had offered to help Strout. + +Again the auctioneer called out in his parrot-like tone, "Twenty-eight +hundred! I am offered twenty-eight hundred!" + +And again Hiram put his hands to his mouth, and his voice was heard over +the Square as he said, "Three thousand!" + +"Now, gentlemen," continued the auctioneer, "I am proud to be with you. +When it is my misfortune to stand up before a company, the members of +which have no appreciation of the value of the property to be sold, I +often wish myself at home; but, as I said before, on this occasion I am +proud to be with you, for a sum approximating to the true value of the +property offered for sale has been bidden. I am offered three +thousand--three thousand--three thousand--going at three thousand! Did I +hear a bid? No, it must have been the wind whistling through the trees." +At this sally a laugh came up from the crowd. "Going at three +thousand--going--going--going--gone at three thousand to--" + +"Mr. Hiram Maxwell!" came from the score of voices. + +"Gone at three thousand to Mr. Hiram Maxwell!" said the auctioneer, as +he brought down his hammer heavily upon the barrel head with such force +that it fell in, and, losing his hold upon the hammer, that dropped in +also. This slight accident caused a great laugh among the crowd. + +The auctioneer continued, "According to the terms of the sale, five +hundred dollars in cash must be paid down to bind the bargain, and the +balance must be paid within three days in endorsed notes satisfactory to +the present owner." + +Quincy and Hiram alighted from the Pettengill team and advanced towards +the auctioneer. Reaching the platform, Quincy took from his pocket a +large wallet and passed a pile of bills to the auctioneer. + +"Make out a receipt, please," he said to Mr. Beers, "in the name of Mr. +Hiram Maxwell; the notes will be made out by him and endorsed by me. If +you will give a discount of six per cent, Mr. Maxwell will pay the +entire sum in cash within ten days; whichever proposition is accepted +by Mr. Hill will be satisfactory to Mr. Maxwell." + +The show was over and the company began to disperse. Deacon Mason nodded +to Strout and turned his horse's head homeward. While Quincy and Hiram +were settling their business matters with the auctioneer, everybody had +left the Square with the exception of a few loungers about the platform +of the grocery store, and Strout and Abner, who stood near the big tree +in the centre of the Square, talking earnestly to each other. + +The auctioneer, together with Quincy and Hiram, entered the store to +talk over business matters with Mr. Hill and his son. Mr. Hill argued +that Mr. Sawyer was good for any sum, and he would just as soon have the +notes; in fact, he would prefer to have them, rather than make any +discount. + +This matter being adjusted, Mr. Hill treated the party to some of his +best cigars, which he kept under the counter in a private box, and when +Quincy and Hiram came out and took their seats in the team, they looked +about the Square and found that the Professor and his best friend were +not in sight. + +The next morning at about nine o'clock, Abbott Smith arrived at +Pettengill's, having with him Mr. Wallace Stackpole. Quincy was ready +for the trip, and they started immediately for Eastborough Centre. On +the way Quincy had plenty of time for conversation with Mr. Stackpole. +The latter gave a true account of the cause that had led to his losing +his election as tax collector at the town meeting a year before. He had +been taken sick on the train while coming from Boston, and a kind +passenger had given him a drink of brandy. He acknowledged that he took +too much, and that he really was unable to walk when he reached the +station at Eastborough Centre; but he said that he was not a drinking +man, and would not have taken the brandy if he had not been sick. They +reached Eastborough Centre in due season, but made no stop, continuing +on to West Eastborough to the home of Abbott Smith's father. + +Here Quincy was introduced to 'Bias Smith, and found that what had been +said about him was not overstated. He was a tall, heavily-built man, +with a hard, rugged face, but with a pleasant and powerful countenance, +and, in the course of conversation, ran the whole gamut of oratorical +expression. He was what New England country towns have so often +produced--a natural-born orator. In addition he was an up-to-date man. +He was well read in history, and kept a close eye on current political +events, including not only local matters, but State and National affairs +as well. + +Quincy gave him Strout's war record that he had obtained from the +Adjutant-General's office, and it was read over and compared with that +of Wallace Stackpole, which was also in 'Bias Smith's possession. Mr. +Stackpole had obtained from the town clerk a statement of taxes due and +collected for the past twenty years, and this was also delivered to Mr. +Smith. Quincy confided to Mr. Smith several matters that he wished +attended to in town meeting, and the latter agreed to present them, as +requested. + +It was finally settled that 'Bias Smith and Mr. Stackpole should come +over to Mason's Corner the following Saturday and see if Deacon Mason +would agree to act as moderator at the annual town meeting on the +following Monday, the warrants for same having already been posted. + +When Quincy reached home he found Hiram waiting for him. They went in to +Jacob's Parlor and took their accustomed seats. + +"Any news?" asked Quincy. + +"Not a word," said Hiram, "neither Strout or Abner have been seen on the +street sence the sale wuz over, but Strout has got hold of it in some +way that Huldy's engaged to 'Zeke Pettengill, and it's all over town." + +At that moment Ezekiel opened the door and stepped into the shed. There +was a roguish twinkle in his eye and a smile about his lips as he +advanced towards Quincy. + +"Waal, the cat's out o' the bag," said he to Quincy. + +"Yes, Hiram was just telling me that Strout got hold of it in some way." + +"Yaas," said Ezekiel, "he got hold of it in the most direct way that he +possibly could." + +"How's that," asked Quincy, "did Miss Mason tell him?" + +"Yaas," said Ezekiel, "he seemed to want a satisfactory reason why she +couldn't marry him, and it sorter seemed to her that the best reason +that she could give him was that she was engaged to marry me." + +Hiram nearly lost his seat on the chopping block while expressing his +delight, and on Quincy's face there was a look of quiet satisfaction +that indicated that he was quite well satisfied with the present +condition of affairs. + +"By the way, Hiram," said Quincy, "I believe you told me once that Mrs. +Hawkins, who keeps the house where the Professor boards, is Mandy +Skinner's mother." + +"Yaas," said Hiram, "Mandy's father died and her mother married Jonas +Hawkins. He wasn't much account afore he was married, but I understand +that he has turned out to be a rale handy man 'round the boardin' house. +Mrs. Hawkins's a mighty smart woman, and she knew just what kind of a +man she wanted." + +"Well," said Quincy, "I want you to tell Mandy to see her mother as soon +as she can, and engage the best room that she has left in the house for +a gentleman that I expect down here from Boston next Monday night. +Here's ten dollars, and have Mandy tell her that this is her week's pay +in advance for room and board, counting from to-day." + +"Waal, I don't believe she'll take it," said Hiram; "she's a mighty +smart woman and mighty clus in money matters, but she's no skin, and I +don't believe she'll take ten dollars for one week's board and room." + +"Well, if she won't take it," remarked Quincy, "Mandy may have the +balance of it for her trouble. The man wants the room, and he is able to +pay for it." + +Then Quincy and Ezekiel went into the house for supper. + +The next morning Quincy found that Uncle Ike had not forgotten his +promise, for he was on hand promptly, dressed for a trip to Eastborough +Centre. This time they took the carryall and two horses, and Uncle Ike +sat on the front seat with Quincy. + +They reached Eastborough Centre and found Dr. Tillotson awaiting them. +The return home was quickly made and Uncle Ike took the doctor to the +parlor. Then he went to Alice's room, and Quincy heard them descend the +stairs. The conversation lasted for a full hour, and Quincy sat in his +room thinking and hoping for the best. Suddenly he was startled from his +reveries by a rap upon the door, and Uncle Ike said the doctor was +ready. Quincy drove him back to Eastborough Centre, and on the way the +doctor gave him his diagnosis of the case and his proposed treatment. He +said it would not be necessary for him to see her again for three weeks, +or until the medicine that he had left for her was gone. He would come +down again at a day's notice from Quincy. + +On his return Mandy told him that Miss Alice was in the parlor and would +like to see him. As he entered the room she recognized his footstep, and +starting to her feet turned towards him. He advanced to meet her and +took both her hands in his. + +"How can I thank you, my good friend," said she, "for the interest that +you have taken in me, and how can I repay you for the money that you +have spent?" + +Quincy was at first disposed to deny his connection with the matter, but +thinking that Uncle Ike must have told of it, he said, "I don't think it +was quite fair for Uncle Ike, after promising to keep silent!" + +"It was not Uncle Ike's fault," broke in Alice; "it was nobody's fault. +Nobody had told the doctor that there was any secret about it, and so he +spoke freely of your visit to the city, and of what you had said, and of +the arrangements that you had made to have the treatment continued as +long as it produced satisfactory results. But," continued Alice, "how +can I ever pay you this great sum of money that it will cost for my +treatment?" + +"Do not worry about that, Alice," said he, using her Christian name for +the second time, "the money is nothing. I have more than I know what to +do with, and it is a pleasure for me to use it in this way, if it will +be of any benefit to you. You can repay me at any time. You will get +money from your poems and your stories in due time, and I shall not have +to suffer if I have to wait a long time for it. God knows, Alice," and +her name fell from his lips as though he had always called her by that +name, "that if half, or even the whole of my fortune would give you back +your sight, I would give it to you willingly. Do you believe me?" And he +took her hands again in his. + +"I believe you," she said simply. + +At that moment Mandy appeared at the door with the familiar cry, +"Supper's ready," and Quincy led Alice to her old place at the table and +took his seat at her side. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII. + +THE TOWN MEETING. + + +The next day was Friday. After breakfast Quincy went to his room and +looked over the memorandum pad upon which he had taken pleasure in +jotting down the various items of his campaign against the +singing-master. As he looked at the pad he checked off the items that he +had attended to, but suddenly started back with an expression of +disgust. + +"Confound it," said he, "I neglected to telegraph to those congressmen +when I was at Eastborough Centre last Tuesday. I hope I'm not too late." +He reflected for a moment, then said to himself, "No, it's all right; +this is the long session, and my friends will be in Washington." + +He immediately wrote two letters to his Congressional friends, stating +that he had good reasons for having the appointment of Obadiah Strout as +postmaster at Mason's Corner, Mass., held up for a week. + +"At the end of that time," he wrote, "I will either withdraw my +objections or present them in detail, accompanied by affidavits in +opposition to the appointment." + +Having finished the letters, he went downstairs to the kitchen, and, as +usual, found Hiram engaged in conversation with Mandy. + +"You are just the man I want," said he to Hiram; "I would like to have +you take these letters to the Mason's Corner post office and mail them +at once. You can tell Mr. Hill that the papers relating to the store are +nearly ready, and if he and his son will come here this afternoon we +will execute them. I would like to have you and Mr. Pettengill on hand +as witnesses." + +Hiram started off on his mission, and Quincy returned to his room and +busied himself with the preparation of the documents for the transfer of +the grocery store, and the making out of the necessary notes to cover +the twenty-five hundred dollars due for the same. + +He had not seen Alice at breakfast, nor did she appear at the dinner +table. He had followed the rule since she came to the house not to make +any open inquiries about her health, but from words dropped by Ezekiel +and Uncle Ike, he had kept fairly well informed as to the result of her +treatment. At dinner Ezekiel remarked that his sister had commenced to +take her new medicine, and that he reckoned it must be purty powerful, +for she had said that she didn't wish anything to eat, and didn't want +anything sent to her room. + +Quincy politely expressed his regrets at her indisposition and trusted +that she would soon be able to join them again at meal time. + +About three o'clock in the afternoon, Samuel Hill and his father +arrived, and Hiram, remembering Quincy's instructions, had found Ezekiel +Pettengill, and all came to the room together. It took a comparatively +short time to sign, seal, and deliver the documents and papers. It was +arranged that Samuel Hill and his father should take charge of the +grocery store and carry on the business until a week from the following +Monday; as Quincy told young Hill that he had some business to attend to +the early part of the following week that would prevent his giving any +attention to the store until the latter part of the week. + +Quincy treated his principals and witnesses to cigars, and an +interchange of ideas was made in relation to the result of the auction +sale. + +"How does Strout take it?" inquired Quincy. + +"I don't know," spoke up Hiram. "He acts as though he thought I was +pizen. Every time he sees me he crosses over on t'other side of the +street, if we happen to be comin' towards each other." + +"Well, I imagine," said Quincy, "that your usefulness to him has +departed in some respects, but it's just as well." + +"Well," said young Hill, "I can tell you what he said the other night in +the grocery store. There was a crowd of his friends there, and he +remarked that you," turning to Quincy, "might own Hill's grocery store, +but that wasn't the whole earth. He said that he had no doubt that he +would be elected unanimously as tax collector, and he was sure of his +appointment as postmaster, and if he got it he should start another +grocery store on his own hook and make it lively for you." + +"Well," said Quincy with a laugh, "competition is the life of trade, and +I sha'n't object if he does go into the business; but if he does, I will +guarantee to undersell him on every article, and I will put on a couple +of teams and hire a couple of men, and we'll scour Eastborough and +Mason's Corner and Montrose for orders in the morning, and then we'll +deliver all the goods by team in the afternoon in regular Boston style. +I never knew just exactly what I was cut out for. I know I don't like +studying law, and it may be, after all, that it's my destiny to become a +grocery-man." + +Quincy took Ezekiel by the arm, led him to the window, and whispered +something to him. + +Ezekiel laughed, then turned red in the face, then finally said in an +undertone, "Waal, I dunno, seems kinder early, but I dunno but it jest +as well might be then as any other time. I hain't got nuthin' ter do +this afternoon, so I think I'll take a walk up there to see how the land +lays." + +He said, "Good afternoon" to the others and left the room. + +Quincy then took Samuel Hill by the arm in the same manner as he had +done to Ezekiel, led him to the window, and said something to him which +wrought a similar effect to that produced upon Ezekiel. + +Samuel thought for a moment and then said, "That ain't a bad idea; I'm +satisfied if the other party is. I'm going to drive over this afternoon +and tell the old gentleman that matters are all fixed up, and I'll find +out if there's any objection to the plan. Guess I'll go now, as I've got +to git back to-night." + +So he said "Good afternoon," and, accompanied by his father, took his +departure. + +"Sit down, Hiram," said Quincy, "I want to have a talk with you. Have +you settled up that little matter with Mandy?" + +"No," said Hiram, "not yet; I've ben tryin' to muster up courage, but I +haven't ben able to up to the present moment." + +"I should think," remarked Quincy, "that a man who had carried his +captain off the field with a shower of bullets raining about him, or who +had pushed forward with his country's flag in the face of a similar +storm of bullets, ought not to be afraid to ask a young girl to marry +him." + +"Waal, do yer know," said Hiram, "I'm more afraid o' Mandy than I would +be of the whole army." + +"Well," said Quincy, "I don't see any other way for you except to walk +up like a man and meet your fate. Of course if I could do it for you I'd +be willing to oblige you." + +"No, thank yer," said Hiram, "I kinder reckon thet little matter had +better be settled between the two principals in the case without callin' +in a lawyer." + +Quincy leaned over and whispered something to him. + +"By crickey!" said Hiram, "what put thet idea inter yer head?" + +"Oh," said Quincy, "since I've had to spend so much time plotting +against my enemies, I've got into the habit of thinking out little +surprises for my friends." + +"Waal, I swan!" cried Hiram, "that would be the biggest thing ever +happened in Mason's Corner. Well, I rather think I shall be able to tend +to that matter now, at once. One, two, three," said Hiram, "just think +of it; well, that's the biggest lark that I've ever ben connected with; +beats buying the grocery store all holler." + +"Well," continued Quincy, "you three gentlemen understand it now, and if +matters can be arranged I will do my part, and I promise you all a grand +send-off; but not a word of it must be breathed to outside parties, +remember. It won't amount to anything unless its' a big surprise." + +"All right," said Hiram, "I kinder reckon Sawyer's surprise party will +be a bigger one than Strout's was." + +"Oh," continued Hiram, "I 'most forgot. Mandy was up ter see her mother +abeout thet room for thet man that's comin' down from Boston Monday +night, and Mis' Hawkins says the price of the room is three dollars per +week and the board fifty cents a day. Mandy paid for the room for a +week, and Mis' Hawkins says after she takes out what the board comes to +she'll give the balance back ter Mandy." + +"That's all right," said Quincy, "I've heard from the man in Boston, and +he'll surely occupy the room next Monday night. Mandy can tell her +mother to have it all ready." + +Next morning about ten o'clock, Abbott Smith drove over from Eastborough +Centre, accompanied by his father and Wallace Stackpole. Quincy took his +place beside Mr. Stackpole on the rear seat of the carryall, and Abbott +drove off as though he intended to return to Eastborough Centre, but +when he reached the crossroad he went through, then turning back towards +Mason's Corner, drove on until he reached Deacon Mason's barn, following +the same plan that Ezekiel had on the night of the surprise party. + +They found the Deacon at home, and all adjourned to the parlor, where +'Bias Smith stated his business, which was to ask the Deacon to act as +Moderator at the town meeting on the following Monday. The Deacon +objected at first, but finally consented, after Mr. Smith had explained +several matters to him. + +"Yer know," said the Deacon, "my fellow citizens have tried on several +occasions to have me run for selectman, but I reckoned thet I wuz too +old to be out so late nights and have to drive home from Eastborough at +ten or 'leven o'clock at night. Besides I've worked hard in my day, and +there's no place I like so well as my own home. I'm alwus sorry to go +away in the mornin' and alwus glad ter git home at night, and although I +consider that every citizen ought ter do everything he can for the +public good, I reckon thet there's a good many more anxious than I am to +serve the town, and I'm not so consated but thet I think they know how +ter do it better'n I could. But as that Moderator work comes in the +daytime, as I stand ready to do all I can for my young friend here," +turning towards Quincy, "I'll be on hand Monday mornin' and do the best +I can to serve public and private interests at the same time." + +Wallace Stackpole, while the others were talking, had taken a couple of +newspapers from his pocket, and as Deacon Mason finished, he looked up +and said, "There's an item here in the 'Eastborough Express,' Deacon, +that I imagine you'll be interested in. I'll read it to you: 'We are +informed on the best authority that Miss Huldy Mason, only daughter of +Deacon Abraham Mason of Mason's Corner, is engaged to Mr. Ezekiel +Pettengill. The day of the marriage has not been fixed, but our readers +will be informed in due season.'" + +"I'm afraid, Deacon," said Quincy, "that's all my fault. I met young +Chisholm last Tuesday when I was over to the Centre, and he told me +something that actually obliged me to confide in him the fact that I +knew that your daughter was not likely to become Mrs. Obadiah Strout, +but he promised me on his word of honor that he would not put it in the +paper unless he got the same information from some other source." + +The Deacon haw-hawed in good old-fashioned country style. + +"Waal," said he, "young Chisholm tackled me, and said he heard a rumor +abeout Huldy and Strout, and, as you say, Mr. Sawyer, he kinder 'bliged +me to set him right. But he made me a promise, as he did you, thet he +wouldn't say anythin' abeout it unless some other feller told him the +same thing." + +"That young man is sure to get ahead in the world; he buncoed us both, +Deacon," said Quincy. + +"Waal, I dunno as I know just what you mean by buncoed," said the +Deacon, "but I kinder think he got the best of both on us on thet +point." + +As they took their places again in the carryall, Quincy said to Mr. +Smith, "If you can drive to Mr. Pettengill's house and wait a few +minutes, I think I'll go over to Eastborough Centre with you. I'm going +to Boston this afternoon, and shall not be back again until Monday +night." + +This they consented to do, and after Quincy had obtained certain papers +and had packed his travelling bag, he left word with Mandy that he would +not be back to the house until Tuesday of the following week, and it +might be Wednesday, as he was going to Boston to see his parents. + +When they reached Eastborough Centre, Quincy went at once to the post +office; there he found a short letter from Leopold Ernst. It read as +follows: + +"Dear Q:-- + +"Come up and see me as soon as you can; I shall be at home all day +Sunday. Am ready to report on the stories, but have more to say than I +have time to write. + +Invariably thine, +LEOPOLD ERNST." + +Quincy then crossed the Square and entered the office of the +"Eastborough Express." Sylvester flushed a little as Quincy came in, but +the latter reassured him by extending his hand and shaking it heartily. + +"Is the editor in?" asked Quincy. + +"No," replied Sylvester, "he never shows up on Saturdays." + +"Who is going to report the town meeting?" continued Quincy. + +"I am," answered Sylvester. "The editor will be on hand, but he told me +yesterday that he should depend on me to write the meeting up, because +he had a little political work to attend to that would take all his +time. He told me he was going over to see 'Bias Smith on Sunday, so I +imagine that Mr. Smith and he are interested on the same side." + +"Well, Mr. Chisholm," said Quincy, "you managed that little matter about +Miss Mason's engagement so neatly that I have something for you to do +for me. I'm going to Boston this afternoon, and shall not be back until +half-past seven Monday night. I'm going over to see Mr. Parsons when I +leave here, and shall arrange with him to supply all our boys with all +they want to eat and drink next Monday." + +"Well, the boys, as you call them, will be pretty apt to be hungry and +thirsty next Monday," laughed Sylvester. + +"That's all right," said Quincy, "I'll stand the bills." + +"How's Parsons going to know which are our boys?" continued Chisholm. +"They ought to have some kind of badge or some kind of a password, or +your enemies, as well as your friends, will be eating up your +provisions." + +"That's what I want you to attend to," added Quincy. "I'll arrange with +Parsons that if anybody gives him the letters B D on the quiet, he is to +consider that they are on our side, and mustn't take any money from +them, but chalk it up on my score. Now, I depend upon you, Mr. Chisholm, +to give the password to the faithful, and to pay you for your time and +trouble just take this." + +And he passed a twenty-dollar bill to Sylvester. The latter drew back. + +"No, Mr. Sawyer," said he, "I cannot take any money for that service. +This work is to be done, for I understand the whole business, to defeat +the man who, I think, has treated my sister in a very mean manner, and +I'm willing to work all day and all night without any pay to knock that +fellow out. Let's put it that way,--I'm working against him, and not for +you; and, looking at it that way, of course, there's no reason why you +should pay me anything." + +"All right," rejoined Quincy, "I should have no feeling if you took the +money, but I can appreciate your sentiments, and will have no feeling +because you do not take it. One of these days I may be able to do as +great a service for you, as you are willing to do for me between now and +next Monday." + +They shook hands and parted, and Quincy made his way to the Eagle Hotel, +of which Mr. Seth Parsons was the proprietor. Mr. Parsons greeted him +heartily and invited him into his private room. Here Quincy told the +arrangement that he had made with young Chisholm, and gave him the +password. + +"Don't stint them," said Quincy, "let them have a good time; but don't +let anybody know who pays for it. I shall be down on the half-past seven +express, Monday night, and I would like to have a nice little dinner for +eight or nine people ready in your private dining-room at eight o'clock. +Mr. Tobias Smith knows who my guests are to be, and if I am delayed from +any cause, he will tell you who are entitled to go in and eat the +dinner." + +The next train to Boston was due in ten minutes, and shaking hands with +the hotel proprietor, he made his way quickly to the station. As he +reached the platform he noticed that Abner Stiles was just driving away; +the thought flashed through his mind that somebody from Mason's Corner +was going to the city; but that was no uncommon event, and the thought +passed from him. + +He entered the car, and, to his surprise, found that it was filled; +every seat in sight was taken. He walked forward and espied a seat near +the farther end of the car. He noticed that a lady sat near the window; +when he reached it he raised his hat, and leaning forward, said +politely, "Is this seat taken?" + +"No, sir," replied a pleasant, but somewhat sad voice, and he sank into +the seat without further thought as to its other occupant. + +When they reached the first station beyond Eastborough Centre he glanced +out of the window, and as he did so, noticed that his companion was Miss +Lindy Putnam. + +"Why, Miss Putnam," cried he, turning towards her, "how could I be so +ungallant as not to recognize you?" + +"Well," replied Lindy, "perhaps it's just as well that you didn't; my +thoughts were not very pleasant, and I should not have been a very +entertaining companion." + +"More trouble at home?" he inquired in a low voice. + +"Yes," answered Lindy, in a choked voice, "since Mr. Putnam died it has +been worse than ever. While he lived she had him to talk to; but now she +insists on talking to me, and sends for me several times a day, +ostensibly to do something for her, but really simply to get me in the +room so she can talk over the old, old story, and say spiteful and +hateful things to me. May Heaven pardon me for saying so, Mr. Sawyer, +but I am thankful that it's nearly at an end." + +"Why, what do you mean," asked Quincy, "is she worse?" + +"Yes," said Lindy, "she is failing very rapidly physically, but her +voice and mental powers are as strong as ever; in fact, I think she is +more acute in her mind and sharper in her words than she has ever been +before. Dr. Budd ordered some medicine that I could not get at the +Centre, and so there was no way for me except to go to the city for it. +Let me tell you now, Mr. Sawyer, something that I should have been +obliged to write to you, if I had not seen you. I shall stay with Mrs. +Putnam until she dies, for I promised Jones that I would, and I could +never break any promise that I made to him; but the very moment that +she's dead I shall leave the house and the town forever!" + +"Shall you not stay to the funeral?" said Quincy; "what will the +townspeople say?" + +"I don't care what they say," rejoined Lindy, in a sharp tone; "she is +not my mother, and I will not stay to the funeral and hypocritically +mourn over her, when in my secret heart I shall be glad she is dead." + +"Those are harsh words," said Quincy. + +"Not one-tenth nor one-hundredth as harsh and unfeeling as those she has +used to me," said Lindy. "No, my mind is made up; my trunks are all +packed, and she will not be able to lock me in my room this time. I +shall leave town by the first train after her death, and Eastborough +will never see me nor hear from me again." + +"But how about your friends," asked Quincy, "supposing that I should +find out something that would be of interest to you; supposing that I +should get some information that might lead to the discovery of your +real parents, how could I find you?" + +"Well," replied Lindy, "if you will give me your promise that you will +not disclose to any one what I am going to say, I will tell you how to +find me." + +"You have my word," replied Quincy. + +"Well," answered Lindy, "I'm going to New York! I would tell you where, +but I don't know. But if you wish to find me at any time advertise in +the Personal Column of the 'New York Herald'; address it to Linda, and +sign it Eastborough," said she, after a moment's thought. "I shall drop +the name of Putnam when I arrive in New York, but what name I shall take +I have not yet decided upon; it will depend upon circumstances. But I +shall have the 'New York Herald' every day, and if you advertise for me +I shall be sure to see it." + +She then relapsed into silence, and Quincy forbore to speak any more, as +he saw she was busy with her own thoughts. They soon reached the city +and parted at the door of the station. She gave him her hand, and as he +held it in his for a moment, he said, "Good-by, Miss Linda." She thanked +him for not saying "Miss Putnam" with a glance of her eyes. "I may not +see you again, but you may depend upon me. If I hear of anything that +will help you in your search for your parents, my time shall be given to +the matter, and I will communicate with you at the earliest moment. +Good-by." + +He raised his hat and they parted. + +Town Meeting Day proved to be a bright and pleasant one. At nine o'clock +the Town Hall was filled with the citizens of Eastborough. They had come +from the Centre, they had come from West Eastborough and from Mason's +Corner. There were very nearly four hundred gathered upon the floor, the +majority of them being horny-handed sons of toil, or, more properly +speaking, independent New England farmers. + +When Jeremiah Spinney, the oldest man in town, who had reached the age +of ninety-two, and who declared that he hadn't "missed a town meetin' +for seventy year," called the meeting to order, a hush fell upon the +assemblage. In a cracked, but still distinct voice, he called for a +nomination for Moderator of the meeting. Abraham Mason's name, of +Mason's Corner, was the only one presented. The choice was by +acclamation; for it was acknowledged on all sides that Deacon Mason was +as square a man as there was in town. + +The newly-elected Moderator took the chair and called upon the clerk to +read the warrant for the meeting. This was soon done, and the +transaction of the town's business begun in earnest. It will be, of +course, impossible and unnecessary to give a complete and connected +account of all that took place in town meeting on that day. For such an +account the trader is referred to the columns of the "Eastborough +Express," for it was afterwards acknowledged on all sides that the +account of the meeting written by Mr. Sylvester Chisholm was the most +graphic and comprehensive that had ever appeared in that paper. We have +to do only with those items in the warrant that related directly or +indirectly to those residents of the town with whom we are interested. + +When the question of appropriating a certain sum for the support of the +town Almshouse was reached, Obadiah Strout sprang to his feet and called +out, "Mister Moderator," in a loud voice. He was recognized, and +addressed the chair as follows: + +"Mister Moderator, before a vote is taken on the questions of +appropriatin' for the support of the town poor, I wish to call the +attention of my fellow-citizens to a matter that has come to my +knowledge durin' the past year. A short time ago a man who had been a +town charge for more than three years, and whose funeral expenses were +paid by the town, was discovered by me to be the only brother of a man +livin' in Boston, who is said to be worth a million dollars. A very +strange circumstance was that the son of this wealthy man, and a nephew +of this town pauper, has been livin' in this town for several months, +and spendin' his money in every way that he could think of to attract +attention, but it never occurred to him that he could have used his +money to better advantage if he had taken some of it and paid it to the +town for takin' care of his uncle. These facts are well known to many of +us here, and I move that a ballot--" + +Tobias Smith had been fidgeting uneasily in his seat while Strout was +speaking, and when he mentioned the word "ballot," he could restrain +himself no longer, but jumped to Bids feet and called out in his +stentorian voice, "Mister Moderator, I rise to a question of privilege." + +"I have the floor," shouted Strout, "and I wish to finish my remarks. +This is only an attempt of the opposition to shut me off. I demand to be +heard!" + +"Mister Moderator," screamed Abner Stiles, "I move that Mr. Strout be +allowed to continue without further interruption." + +The Moderator brought his gavel down on the table and called out, +"Order, order." Then turning to Tobias, he said, "Mr. Smith, state your +question of privilege." + +Strout sank into his seat, his face livid with passion; turning to +Stiles, he said, "This is all cooked up between 'em. You know you told +me you saw Smith and Stackpole and that city chap drivin' away from the +Deacon's house last Saturday mornin'." + +Stiles nodded his head and said, "I guess you're right." + +Mr. Smith continued, "My question of privilege, Mister Moderator, is +this: I desire to present it now, because when I've stated it, my fellow +citizen," turning to Strout, "will find that it's unnecessary to make +any motion in relation to the matter to which he has referred. I hold in +my hand a letter from Mr. Quincy Adams Sawyer, whose father is the Hon. +Nathaniel Sawyer of Boston, and whose uncle was Mr. James Sawyer, who +died in the Eastborough Poorhouse several weeks ago. By conference with +Mr. Waters, who is in charge of the Poorhouse, and with the Town +Treasurer, he ascertained that the total expense to which the town of +Eastborough has been put for the care of his uncle was four hundred and +sixty-eight dollars and seventy-two cents. I hold his check for that +sum, drawn to the order of the Town Treasurer, and certified to be good +by the cashier of the Eastborough National Bank. He has requested me to +offer this check to the town, and that a receipt for the same be given +by the Town Treasurer." + +Strout jumped to his feet. + +"Mister Moderator, I am glad to learn," cried he, "that this son of a +millionaire has had his heart touched and his conscience pricked by the +kindness shown by the town of Eastborough to his uncle, and I move the +check be accepted and a receipt given by the Town Treasurer, as +requested." + +"Second the motion!" called out Abner Stiles. + +"Before puttin' the question," said the Moderator slowly, "I want to say +a few words on this matter, and as it may be thought not just proper for +me to speak from the chair, I will call upon the Rev. Caleb Howe to take +the same durin' my remarks." + +The well-known clergyman at Mason's Corner came forward, ascended the +platform, took the chair, and recognized Deacon Mason's claim to be +heard. + +"I have heerd the motion to accept this check, an' I desire ter say thet +I am teetotally opposed to the town's takin' this money. If the +Honorable Nathaniel Sawyer, who's the dead man's brother, or Mr. Quincy +Adams Sawyer, who's his nephew, had known that he wuz a pauper, they +would 'er relieved the town of any further charge. We hev no legal claim +agin either of these two gentlemen. Our claim is agin ther town of +Amesbury, in which Mr. James Sawyer was a citizen and a taxpayer. If Mr. +Quincy Adams Sawyer wishes to pay ther town of Amesbury after ther town +of Amesbury has paid us, thet's his affair and none o' our business, but +we've no legal right to accept a dollar from him, when our legal claim +is agin the town in which he hed a settlement, and I hope this motion +will not prevail." + +As Deacon Mason regained the platform loud cries of "Vote! Vote! Vote!" +came from all parts of the hall. + +Tellers were appointed, and in a few moments the result of the vote was +announced. In favor of Mr. Strout's motion to accept the check, +eighty-five. Opposed, two hundred and eighty. And it was not a vote. + +"We will now proceed," said the Moderator, as he resumed the chair, "to +consider the question of appropriating money for the support of the +Poor-farm." + +The next matter on the warrant of general interest was the appropriation +of a small sum of money to purchase some reference books for the town +library, which consisted of but a few hundred volumes stowed away in a +badly-lighted and poorly-ventilated room on the upper floor of the Town +Hall. + +This question brought to his feet Zachariah Butterfield, who was looked +upon as the watchdog of the town treasury. He had not supported Strout +on the question of accepting the check, because he knew the position +taken by the Moderator was legally correct, and he was very careful in +opposing appropriations to attack only those where, as it seemed to him, +he had a good show of carrying his point. He had been successful so +often, that with him success was a duty, for he had a reputation to +maintain. + +"Mister Moderator," he said, "I'm agin appropriatin' any more money for +this 'ere town lib'ry. We hev got plenty of schoolbooks in our schools; +we hev got plenty of books and newspapers in our houses, and it's my +opinion thet those people who spend their time crawlin' up three flights +er stairs and readin' those books had better be tillin' ther soil, +poundin' on ther anvil, or catchin fish. Neow, I wuz talkin' with Miss +Burpee, the librari'n, and she sez they want a new Wooster's +Dictshuneery, 'cause ther old one iz all worn eout. Neow, I looked +through the old one, and I couldn't see but what it's jest as good as +ever; there may be a few pages missin', but what's thet amount ter when +there's more'n a couple of thousan' on 'em left?" + +Mr. Tobias Smith was again fidgeting in his seat. He evidently had +something to say and was anxious to say it. + +Mr. Butterfield continued: "Neow, to settle this question onct fer all, +I make ther motion that this 'ere lib'ry be closed up and the librari'n +discharged; she gits a dollar a week, and ther town ken use that +fifty-two dollars a year, in my opinion, to better advantege." + +"Mister Moderator," came again from Mr. Tobias Smith, "I rise to a +question of privilege--" + +Mr. Butterfield kept on talking: "Mister Moderator, this is not a +question of privilege; this is a question of expenditure of money for a +needless purpose. Yes, Mister Moderator, for a needless purpose." + +Mr. Butterfield had evidently lost the thread of his discourse, and Mr. +Smith, taking advantage of his temporary indecision, said, "I agree with +the gentleman who has just spoken; I am in favor of closing up this +musty, dusty old room, and saving the further expenditure of money upon +it." + +Mr. Butterfield, hearing these words, and not having sufficiently +collected his thoughts to say anything himself, nodded approvingly and +sank into his seat. + +Mr. Smith continued, "I have a proposition to submit in relation to the +town library. I hold in my hand a letter from Mr. Quincy Adams Sawyer, +whose name has been previously mentioned--" + +Mr. Strout jumped to his feet. + +"Mister Moderator, I rise to a question of privilege." + +"I second the motion!" cried Abner Stiles. + +"State your question of privilege, Mr. Strout," said the Moderator. + +"I wish to inquire," answered Strout, "if the time of this town meetin' +is to be devoted to the legitimate business of the town, or is it to be +fooled away in hearin' letters read from a person who is not a citizen +of the town, and who is not entitled to be heard in this town meetin'?" + +"Mister Moderator," said Mr. Smith, "I am a citizen of this town, and +I'm entitled to be heard in this meeting, and the matter that I'm about +to bring to the attention of this meeting is a most important one and +affects the interests of the town materially. I consider that I have a +right to read this letter or any other letter that relates to the +question before the meeting, which is, 'Shall money be appropriated to +buy books for what is called the town library?' I say NO; and my reason +for this is contained in this letter, which I propose to read." + +"Go on, Mr. Smith," said the Moderator. + +"Well," continued Mr. Smith, "Mr. Quincy Adams Sawyer, in this letter, +offers to the town of Eastborough the sum of five thousand dollars, to +be used either for purchasing books and paying the expenses of a library +to be located in the Town Hall; or a portion of the money may be used to +build a suitable building, and the balance for the equipment and support +of the library." + +Mr. Butterfield was on his feet again. + +"Mister Moderator, I'm agin acceptin' this donation. If we take it, we +shall only jump out er the fryin-pan inter the fire; instead of buyin' a +few books and payin' the librari'n a dollar a week, we shall hev to hev +a jan'ter for the new buildin', and pay fer insurance, and we shell hev +ter hev a librari'n ev'ry day in ther week, and by'm by the ungodly will +want ter hev it open on a Sunday, so thet they kin hev a place to loaf +in; and I'm agin the whole bizness teetotally. I've sed my say; neow, +you kin go ahead, and do jest as you please." + +This was Mr. Butterfield's usual wind-up to his arguments; but on this +occasion it seemed to fail of its effect. + +The Moderator said, "Was Mr. Butterfield's motion seconded?" There was +no response. "Then the matter before the meeting is the question of +appropriating money for the support of the town library." + +"Mister Moderator," said Mr. Smith, "I move that the donation from Mr. +Quincy Adams Sawyer be accepted, and that the library be named 'The +Sawyer Free Public Library of the Town of Eastborough.'" + +"Second the motion!" came from a hundred voices. + +Strout was on his feet again. + +"Mister Moderator," said he, "I move to amend the motion by havin' it +read that we decline, that the town declines the donation without +thanks." + +A loud laugh arose from the assemblage. + +Abner Stiles had evidently misinterpreted Mr. Strout's motion, for he +called out, "Mister Moderator," and when he got the floor, "I move to +amend so that the motion would read, this library shall be called the +Strout Free Library of the Town of Eastborough." + +This was greeted with shouts of laughter, and Strout grasped Abner by +his coat collar and pulled him violently back upon the settee. + +"Shut up, you fool," cried he between his teeth to Abner; "do you want +to make a laughin' stock of me?" + +"I kinder thought I wuz a-helpin' yer," said Abner, as he ran his +fingers down under his chin and pulled away his shirt collar, which had +been drawn back so forcibly that it interfered with his breathing. + +"The question now," said the Moderator, "is on the adoption of Mr. +Smith's motion. Those in favor will please stand up and be counted." + +When the tellers had attended to their duty the Moderator said, "Those +opposed will now rise and be counted." + +The vote was soon announced. In favor of accepting the donation, three +hundred and one; opposed, fifty-eight. + +"It's a vote," declared the Moderator. + +A dozen matters of minor importance were quickly disposed of, and but +one remained upon the warrant, with the exception of the election of +town officers. Little squads of the members were now gathered together +talking over the most important question of the meeting, which was the +election of town officers for the ensuing year. The last item on the +warrant read: "Will the town appropriate money to buy a new hearse?" + +Mr. Butterfield had evidently been holding himself in reserve, for he +was on his feet in an instant, and he secured the eye of the Moderator +and the floor. + +"Mister Moderator," began Mr. Butterfield, "I desire to raise my voice +agin this biznez of unnecessary and unexampled extravagance. What do we +want of a new hearse? Those who are dead and in the cemetery don't find +any fault with the one we've got, and those who are livin' have no +present use for it, and why should they complain? I know what this +means. This is only an enterin' wedge. If this 'ere bill passes and we +git a new hearse, then it'll be said thet ther horses don't look as well +as the hearse, and then if ther hearse gits out in ther storm, we shell +hev ter pay money to git it polished up agin, and we who are livin' will +hev to work harder and harder for the benefit of those who are jest as +well satisfied with the old hearse as they would be with a new one. I +move, Mister Moderator, that instid of buyin' a new hearse, thet ther +old one be lengthened six inches, which ken be done at a slight +expense." + +Mr. Tobias Smith now took the floor. + +"I am glad that my friend has not opposed this measure entirely, but has +provided for my proper exit from this world when my time comes. I must +confess that it has troubled me a great deal when I have thought about +that hearse. I was born down in the State of Maine, where the boys and +the trees grow up together. I stand six feet two in my stockings and six +feet three with my boots on, and I haven't looked forward with any +pleasure to being carried to my last resting place in a hearse that was +only six feet long. I second Mr. Butterfield's motion, but move to amend +it by extending the length to seven feet." + +The vote was taken, and Mr. Butterfield's motion was carried by a vote +of three hundred and forty to twenty-two. Mr. Butterfield sank back in +his seat with an expression on his face that seemed to say, "I've done +the town some service to-day." + +The Moderator then rose and said, "Fellow-citizens, all the business +matters upon the warrant have now been disposed of. We will now proceed +to the election of town officers for the ensuing year." + +Mr. Stackpole rose and called out, "Mister Moderator, it is now nearly +twelve o'clock, and some of us had to leave home quite early this +morning in order to be in time at the meeting. I move that we adjourn +till one o'clock, at which time balloting for town officers usually +commences." + +Forty voices cried out, "Second the motion," and although Strout, +Stiles, and several others jumped to their feet and endeavored to secure +the Moderator's eye, the motion was adopted by an overwhelming vote, and +the greater portion of the members made their way out of the hall and +directed their steps towards the Eagle Hotel, as if the whole matter had +been prearranged. Here, Mr. Parsons, the proprietor, had set out a most +tempting lunch in the large dining-room, and those who were able to give +the password were admitted to the room, and feasted to their heart's +content. + +Abner Stiles, impelled by curiosity, had followed the party, and had +noticed that each one said something to the proprietor before he was +admitted to the dining-room. Going up to Parsons, he said, "What's goin' +on in there?" + +"Oh, I guess they're having a caucus," replied Mr. Parsons. + +"When thet last feller went in," said Abner, "I saw that the table was +all set, and I kinder 'magined they must be havin' a dinner. I'd kinder +like some myself." + +"Well, I'm sorry," said Mr. Parsons, "but I cannot accommodate any more +than have already applied. You can get a lunch over to the railroad +station, you know, if you want one." + +"I know," answered Abner, "but I kinder 'magine they're talkin' over +'lection matters in there, and I'd rather like ter know what's goin' +on." + +"Well, I guess you'll find out when they get back to the Town Hall," +remarked Mr. Parsons; and he stepped forward to greet three or four +other citizens, who leaned over and whispered in his ear. + +Mr. Parsons smiled and nodded, and opening the door admitted them to the +dining-room. + +"Well, that beats all," said Abner, as he went out on the platform in +front of the hotel. "They jest whispered somethin' to him and he let 'em +right in. I kinder think somethin's goin' on and thet Strout ain't up to +it. Guess I'll go back and tell him," which he proceeded to do. + +He found Strout and some sixty or seventy of the citizens still +remaining in the Town Hall, the majority of whom were eating the +luncheons that they had brought with them from home. Taking Strout +aside, Abner confided to him the intelligence of which he had become +possessed. + +"'D'yer know what it means?" asked Abner. + +"No, I don't," said Strout, "but I bet a dollar that it's some of that +city chap's doin's. Is he 'round about town this mornin'?" + +"No," said Abner, "he went to Bosting on the same train with Miss Lindy +Putnam, for I fetched her down, and I saw him git inter the same car +with her as I wuz drivin' off." + +One o'clock soon arrived, and the large party that had regaled +themselves with the appetizing viands and non-alcoholic beverages +supplied by mine host of the Eagle Hotel came back to the Town Hall in +the best of spirits. The majority of them were smoking good cigars, +which had been handed to them by the proprietor, as they passed from the +dining-room. + +When asked if there was anything to pay, Mr. Parsons shook his head and +remarked sententiously, "This is not the only present that the town has +received to-day," which was a delicate way of insinuating the name of +the donor of the feast without actually mentioning it. + +The election of a dozen minor officers calls for no special attention, +except to record the fact that Abner Stiles, who had cautiously taken a +position several settees removed from Strout, arose as the nominations +were made for each office, and in every case nominated Mr. Obadiah +Strout for the position, and it is needless to add that Mr. Obadiah +Strout had at least one vote for each office in the gift of the town. + +The nomination of a collector of taxes for the town was finally reached. +Abner Stiles was first on his feet, and being recognized by the +Moderator, nominated "Mr. Obadiah Strout, who had performed the duties +of the office so efficiently during the past year." + +Now the battle royal began. Mr. Tobias Smith next obtained the floor and +nominated Mr. Wallace Stackpole. + +"In presenting this nomination, Mister Moderator, I do it out of justice +to an old soldier who served the country faithfully, and who lost the +election a year ago on account of an untrue statement that was widely +circulated and which could not be refuted in time to affect the question +of his election. I hold in my hand three documents. The first one is a +certified copy of the war record of Wallace Stackpole, who entered one +of our regiments of Volunteers as a private, served throughout the war, +and was honorably discharged with the rank of captain. This record shows +that during his four years of service he was three times wounded; in one +instance so badly that for weeks his life hung by a thread, and it was +only by the most careful treatment that amputation of his right arm was +avoided. I hold here also the war record of the present incumbent of the +office. From it I learn that he entered the army as a private and was +discharged at the end of two years still holding the rank of private, +and sent home as an invalid. He is not to blame for this, but inspecting +his record I find that within a month after he joined the army he was +detailed for service in the hospital, and during the two years of his +connection with the army he was never engaged in a single battle, not +even in a skirmish." + +Cries rose from certain parts of the hall in opposition to the speaker, +and Deacon Mason remarked that while it was perfectly proper to compare +the war records of the two candidates for the position, it must be borne +in mind that because a man was a soldier, or, rather, because he did a +little more fighting than the other one, was no reason that he would +make a better tax collector. + +The Moderator's remarks were greeted with applause, and Strout's face +brightened. + +"I am glad to see the Deacon's bound to have fair play," said he to an +old farmer who sat next to him. + +"Waal, I guess you're more liable to git it than you are disposed to +give it," drawled the old farmer, who evidently was not an adherent of +the present incumbent of the office. + +Mr. Tobias Smith continued his remarks: + +"I acknowledge the correctness of the remarks just made by our honored +Moderator, and desire to say that I hold in my hand a third document, +which is a statement of the taxes due and collected during the past +twenty years by the different persons who have held the office of tax +collector. I find during nineteen years of that time that the lowest +percentage of taxes left unpaid at the end of the year was five per +cent; the highest percentage during these nineteen years, and that +occurred during the war, was fourteen per cent; but I find that during +the past year only seventy-eight per cent of the taxes due have been +collected, leaving twenty-two per cent still due the town, and the +non-receipt of this money will seriously hamper the selectmen during the +coming year, unless we choose a man who can give his entire time to the +business and collect the money that is due. This statement is certified +to by the town treasurer, and I do not suppose that the present +incumbent will presume to question its accuracy." + +Strout evidently thought that a further discussion of the matter might +work to his still greater disadvantage, for he leaned over and spoke to +one of his adherents, who rose and said: + +"Mister Moderator, this discussion has taken a personal nature, in which +I am not disposed to indulge. I don't think that anything will be gained +by such accusations and comparisons. It strikes me that the last speaker +is trying to give tit for tat because his candidate lost at the last +election; but I am one of those who believe that criminations and +recriminations avail nothing, and I move that we proceed to vote at +once." + +"Second the motion!" screamed Abner Stiles from the settee on which he +had assumed a standing posture. + +The vote was taken. Those in favor of Obadiah Strout being called upon +to stand up first, they numbered exactly one hundred and one. Then those +in favor of Wallace Stackpole were called upon to rise, and they +numbered two hundred and eighty-four; several citizens having put in an +appearance at one o'clock who had not attended the morning session. + +The next matter was the election of the Board of Selectmen; and the old +board was elected by acclamation without a division. The meeting then +adjourned without day. + +The five minutes past six train, express from Boston, arrived on time, +and at twenty minutes of eight, Mr. Quincy Adams Sawyer entered the +private dining-room in the Eagle Hotel. There he found gathered Mr. +Tobias Smith, Mr. Wallace Stackpole, Mr. Ezekiel Pettengill, Mr. +Sylvester Chisholm, and the Board of Selectmen, making the party of +eight which Quincy had mentioned. It was eleven o'clock before the +dinner party broke up, and during that time Quincy had heard from one or +another of the party a full account of the doings at the town meeting. + +It is needless to say that he was satisfied with the results, but he +said nothing to indicate that fact in the presence of the Board of +Selectmen. They were the first to leave, and then there was an +opportunity for mutual congratulations by the remaining members of the +party. To these four should be added Mr. Parsons, the proprietor, upon +whose face rested a broad smile when he presented his bill for the day's +expenses, and the sum was paid by Quincy. + +"We had a very pleasant time," remarked Mr. Parsons to Mr. Sawyer as he +bade him good evening. + +"I am delighted to hear it," said Quincy, "and I regret very much that +my business in the city prevented my being here to enjoy it." + +On the way home with Ezekiel they went over the events of the day again +together, and Ezekiel told him many little points, that for obvious +reasons had been omitted at the dinner party. + +Quincy was driven directly to Mrs. Hawkins's boarding house, for he had +explained his programme to Ezekiel. He turned up his coat collar and +pulled his hat down over his eyes, as he was admitted; and, although +Mrs. Hawkins's eyes were naturally sharp, she did not recognize the late +comer, who proceeded upstairs to his room, which Mrs. Hawkins informed +him was right opposite the head of the stairs, and there was a light +burning in the room and a good warm fire, and if he needed anything, if +he would just call to her inside of the next ten minutes, she would get +it for him. + +Quincy said nothing, but went into his room and shut the door, and there +we will leave him. + +As Strout and Abner drove back to Mason's Corner, after the adjournment +of the town meeting, nothing was said for the first mile of the trip. + +Then Abner turned to him and remarked, "You ought ter be well satisfied +with to-day's perceedin's." + +"How do you make that out?" growled Strout. + +"Waal, I think the events proved," said Abner, "that you wuz the most +pop'lar man in ther town." + +"How do you make that out?" again growled Strout. + +"Why," said Abner, "you wuz nominated for every office in the gift o' +ther town, and that's more'n any other feller could say." + +"If you don't shut up," said Strout, "I'll nominate you for town idyut, +and there won't be any use of any one runnin' agin yer!" + +Abner took his reproof meekly. He always did when Strout spoke to him. +No more was said until they reached home. Strout entered the boarding +house and went upstairs to his room, forgetting that there was a man +from Boston, to arrive late that evening, who was to have the next room +to his. + +Abner put up the horse and went home. As he went by Strout's door, +thoughts of the rum and molasses, and the good cigar that he had enjoyed +the night of the surprise party one week ago went through his mind, and +he stopped before Strout's door and listened attentively, but there was +no sound, and he went upstairs disconsolately, and went to bed feeling +that his confidence in the Professor had been somewhat diminished by the +events of the day. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIX. + +MRS. HAWKINS' BOARDING HOUSE. + + +Mrs. Hawkins waited patiently until eight o'clock for the gentleman from +Boston to come down to breakfast. She then waited impatiently from eight +o'clock till nine. During that time she put the breakfast on the stove +to keep it warm, and also made several trips to the front entry, where +she listened to see if she could hear any signs of movement on the part +of her new boarder. + +When nine o'clock arrived she could restrain her impatience no longer, +and, going upstairs, she gave a sharp knock on the door of Quincy's +room. + +"What is it?" answered a voice, somewhat sharply. + +"It's nine o'clock, and your breakfast's most dried up," replied Mrs. +Hawkins. + +"I don't wish for any breakfast," said the voice within the room, but in +a much pleasanter tone. "What time do you have dinner?" + +"Twelve o'clock," said Mrs. Hawkins. + +"All right," answered the voice, cheerfully. "I'll take my breakfast and +dinner together." + +"That beats all," said Mrs. Hawkins, as she entered the kitchen. + +"What beats all?" asked Betsy Green, who worked for Mrs. Hawkins. + +"It beats all," repeated Mrs. Hawkins, "how these city folks can sit up +till twelve o'clock at night, and then go without their breakfast till +noontime. I've fixed up somethin' pretty nice for him, and I don't +propose to see it wasted." + +"What are you goin' to do with it?" asked Betsy. "'Twon't keep till +to-morrer mornin'." + +"I'm goin' to eat it myself," said Mrs. Hawkins. And suiting the action +to the word, she transferred the appetizing breakfast to the kitchen +table, and, taking a seat, began to devour it. + +"Have you seen your sister, Samanthy, lately?" she asked. + +"I was up there Sunday evening," replied Betsy, "and she said Mis' +Putnam was failin' very fast. She keeps her bed all the time now, and +Samanthy has to run up and down stairs, 'bout forty times a day. She +won't let Miss Lindy do a thing for her." + +"Well, if I was Lindy," said Mrs. Hawkins, "I wouldn't do anything for +her if she wanted me to. She used to abuse that child shamefully. Is +Miss Lindy goin' to keep house arter her mother dies?" + +"No," said Betsy, "she's got her things all packed up, and she told +Samanthy she should leave town for well and good as soon as her mother +was buried." + +"I don't blame her," exclaimed Mrs. Hawkins. "Where's Samanthy goin'?" + +"Oh, she says she wants to rest awhile afore she goes anywheres else to +live. She's all run down." + +"P'r'aps she'll go and stay with yer mother for a while." + +"No," said Betsy, "she won't go there." + +"Ain't yer mother 'n' her on good terms?" + +"Oh, yes," replied Betsy, "but the four boys send mother five dollars a +month apiece, and us girls give her two dollars a month apiece, and it's +understood that none of us is to go and loaf 'round at home, 'less we +pay our board." + +"That's all right," said Mrs. Hawkins. "You can tell Samanthy for me +that she can come here and stay a couple o' weeks with you. Your bed's +big enough for two, and I won't charge her no board if she's willin' to +wait on table at dinner time. You'll get the benefit of it, ye know, +Betsy, for you kin get the dinner dishes done so much earlier." + +"That's very kind of you, Mrs. Hawkins," said Betsy, and the +conversation lapsed for a moment till she inquired, "Will your daughter +Mandy stay with Mr. Pettengill arter he marries Huldy Mason?" + +"I don't know," replied Mrs. Hawkins. "Mandy says that Hiram Maxwell is +the biggest fool of a man she ever saw." + +"Then she must think a good deal of him," laughed Betsy. + +"Wall, I fancy she does," replied Mrs. Hawkins; "and I've no objections +to him, seein' as that Mr. Sawyer is goin' to put him inter the grocery +store and back him up. But Mandy says that he won't come to the pi'nt. +He hints and hints and wobbles all 'round the question, but he don't ask +her to marry him right out and out. Mandy says she won't gin in until he +does, for if she does, she says he'll be chuckin' it at her one of these +days that he didn't ask her to marry him and be sayin' as how she threw +herself at him, but there's too much of the old Job Skinner spirit in +Mandy for her to do anythin' like that." + +At this moment Mrs. Hawkins looked up and saw Hiram Maxwell standing in +the half-open doorway that led into the wood-shed. + +"List'ners never hear any good of themselves," remarked Mrs. Hawkins, as +Hiram advanced into the room. + +"I didn't hear nothin'," said Hiram. "I've got too many things in my +head to tell yer to mind any women's talk," he continued. + +"What is it?" cried Mrs. Hawkins and Betsy simultaneously. + +"Well, fust," said Hiram, "early this mornin' your sister Samanthy," +here he looked at Betsy, "came tearin' down to Deacon Mason's house +and said as how Mis' Hepsey Putnam was powerful bad, and she wanted me +to run down to 'Zeke Pettengill's and have him bring his sister right up +to the house, 'cause Mis' Putnam wanted to see her afore she died, and +the Deacon's wife said as how I could go up with him and her, and so we +druv up, and a little while ago your sister Samanthy," here he looked at +Betsy again, "asked me if I'd drive over and ask Mis' Hawkins if you," +here he looked at Betsy for the third time, "could come up and stay with +her this arternoon, for she thinks Mis' Putnam is goin' to die, and she +don't want to be left alone up in that big house." + +Betsy looked at Mrs. Hawkins inquiringly. + +Mrs. Hawkins saw the glance and said, "I can't spare yer till arter +dinner, Betsy; say 'bout one o'clock. You kin go and stay till the fust +thing to-morrer mornin'. I guess I kin manage supper alone." + +"Samanthy will be much obleeged, Mis' Hawkins," said Hiram. "I'll drive +right back and tell her, and I'll drive down agin about one o'clock +arter Betsy." + +"List'ners get a good p'int now and then," remarked Hiram to himself. +"Now I see what made Mandy so durned offish. Wall, she won't have any +excuse in the future. I guess I kin ask her a straight question when I +git good and ready, Mother Hawkins." And he struck the horse such a +violent blow with the whip that it required all his attention for the +next few minutes to bring him down to a trot. When he had done so he had +reached his destination and his resentful feelings had subsided. + +After Hiram had gone, Mrs. Hawkins and Betsy busied themselves getting +dinner. Happening to glance out of the window, the former exclaimed, +"Why, there's Jonas, and what on airth has he got in his hands?" + +Betsy ran to the window and looked out. + +"I guess it's a head of lettuce," said she. + +At that moment the door opened and Jonas Hawkins entered, bearing a huge +head of lettuce in his hand. + +"Wall, Marthy," said Mr. Hawkins, "how did the man from Bosting like his +breakfast? I kalkilated them fresh-laid eggs would suit him to a T." + +"He ain't got up yet," replied Mrs. Hawkins. + +"Must have been putty tired," continued Mr. Hawkins. "I kinder envy him. +Do yer know, Marthy, if I wuz rich I wouldn't 'git up any day till it +wuz time to go to bed agin." And he laughed loudly at his own remark. + +"What do yer expect me to do with that head of lettuce?" asked Mrs. +Hawkins with some asperity in her tone. + +"Wall," said Jonas, "I was over to Hill's grocery and he'd ordered some +from Bosting for Mis' Putnam, but she's too sick to eat 'em, so Sam gave +me this one, 'cause we're putty good customers, you know, and I +kalkilated that if you made up one of them nice chicken salads o' yourn +it might please the new boarder and the old ones too;" and chuckling to +himself he laid the lettuce on the kitchen table and walked out into the +wood-shed. In a few moments he was vigorously at work chopping wood, +whistling to himself as he worked. + +"Mr. Hawkins is an awful good-natured man, isn't he?" asked Betsy. + +"Yes," replied Mrs. Hawkins, "he's too all-fired good-natured for his +own good. If I'd known him twenty-five years ago he'd have money in the +bank now. His fust wife wuz slacker'n dish water. But I guess we've +talked enough for one mornin', Betsy. You jest git that chicken I boiled +and bone it and chop it up, and I'll make the dressin'." + +When twelve o'clock sounded from the bell in the church tower, dinner +was on the table at Mrs. Hawkins's boarding house. By five minutes past +twelve there were fourteen seated at the table, with one vacant chair. +Professor Strout sat at the head of the table. At his left was Abner +Stiles, while Robert Wood sat next to Stiles. The vacant seat was at the +Professor's right hand, and all eyes were turned toward it, for all had +heard of the Boston man who had arrived the night before, but who, much +to their disappointment, had not appeared at breakfast. + +At ten minutes past twelve the door leading into the dining-room from +the front entry was opened quietly, and the young man who entered, +seeing the vacant chair near the head of the table, took possession of +it. + +For a moment nobody looked up, each apparently waiting for some one else +to take the initiative. + +Quincy, for it was he, broke the silence, and immediately every face at +the table was turned towards him. + +"How do you do, Professor?" said he. "Good afternoon, Mr. Stiles and Mr. +Wood. Ah, glad to see you, Mr. Hill," he added, as he espied Samuel Hill +at the farther end of the table. + +The Professor's face grew crimson, then bright red, and finally assumed +a bluish tinge. Abner sat transfixed. The others at the table had a +charming diversity of expressions on their faces, ranging from "grave to +gay, from lively to severe." No one at the table enjoyed the situation +any more than Samuel Hill, who was very fond of a joke and who knew of +Quincy's intention to meet his enemy at close quarters. + +For several minutes no one spoke. Betsy flew from one to the other +waiting upon table, but a solemn hush seemed to have fallen upon the +dinner party. Again Quincy broke the silence. + +"I trust, gentlemen," said he, "that you will not let my presence +interfere with your usual conversation. I have no doubt Mr. Stiles can +tell us a good story, and I am equally sure that Professor Strout has +some entertaining bit of village gossip that he would like to +circulate." + +Here Samuel Hill purposely dropped his fork upon the floor and was +obliged to get under the table to recover it, Betsy assisting him in the +search. When they emerged from under the table their faces were red with +their exertions. + +As we have seen on other occasions, the Professor was very quick in +rescuing himself from any dilemma into which he might be thrown. He saw +an opportunity to divert attention from himself and speedily improved +it. + +"I think I'll have to walk over and see Miss Tilly James this +afternoon," said the Professor. + +At this shot at Samuel Hill and Betsy everybody laughed, including +Quincy, and thus the ice was broken. + +"I've heard some pretty big lies told in my life," said Robert Wood, +"but I think Abel Coffin, yer know him, Professor, old Jonathan Coffin's +son, the one that goes carpenterin', he lives over in Montrose, yer +know, can beat anybody we've got in this town, not exceptin' you, +Stiles;" and he gave the latter a nudge with his elbow that nearly +knocked him out of his chair. + +"Tell us the story, Robert," said the Professor, who had recovered his +self-complacency; "we're dyin' to hear it." + +"Well," continued Robert Wood, "Abel had been shinglin' a house, and I +told him there wuz a place where he'd left off a shingle. Abel laughed +and, sez he, 'If I hadn't better eyesight than you've got I'd carry a +telescope 'round with me.' 'Well,' sez I, thinkin' I'd fool him, 'let's +see which one of us has got the best eyesight.' I pointed up to the +ridgepole of the house, which was 'bout a hundred feet off from where we +stood, and sez I to Abel, 'Can you see that fly walkin' along on the +ridgepole near the chimney? I ken.' Abel put his hand up back of his +ear, and sez he, 'No, I can't see him, but I can hear him walkin' +'round.'" + +As Robert concluded, a loud shout of laughter went up from the table. +Quincy had no desire to be considered "stuck up," so he joined in the +laugh, although he had heard the story in a different form before. + +So had the Professor, and he never allowed an old story to be told in +his presence without working in two lines of doggerel which he had +composed, and of which he was very proud. So, turning to Robert Wood he +said patronizingly, "That was very well told, Robert. The story is an +old one, but you worked it up very nicely; but," continued the +Professor, "as I have often remarked on similar occasions: + + It makes no difference whether a story's new or old, + Everything depends on the way it's told." + +Turning quickly to Quincy he said, "No doubt Mr. Sawyer can favor us +with a story that we've never heard before." + +Quincy was a little taken aback, for the appeal was unexpected, but he +quickly recovered his self-possession and said in a low but pleasant +voice, "I am afraid that my story will have to depend on the way it is +told rather than upon its novelty." He wondered if his hearers were +acquainted with the travels of Baron Munchausen, but decided to try the +experiment. "About a year ago," resumed Quincy, "I went down to Maine on +some law business. I transacted it, but had to travel some ten miles to +the county town to record my papers. I had a four-wheeled buggy, and a +strong, heavily-built horse. It began to snow very fast after I started, +but I knew the road and drove steadily on. As I approached the county +town I noticed that the snow was deeper than the highest building in the +town, in fact, none of the town was visible, excepting about three feet +of the spire of the tallest church in the place." + +Quincy stopped and glanced about the table. Every eye was fastened upon +him, and all, including the Professor and Stiles particularly, were +listening intently. Quincy continued his story: + +"I was well supplied with buffalo robes, so after tying my horse firmly +to the weather vane on the spire, I made up a bed on the snow with my +buffalo robes, and slept soundly and comfortably all night. When I woke +in the morning I was still enveloped in the robes, but found to my +surprise that I was lying upon the ground. I looked around, but there +was no sign of snow anywhere. I arose and looked about for my horse and +buggy, but they were not in sight. Then I remembered that I had tied my +horse to the weather vane. Casting my eyes upward I saw my horse and +buggy hanging by the strap, the horse having secured a footing on the +side of the spire. Happily I had a revolver with me, and with one shot I +severed the broad leathern strap. Naturally the horse and buggy fell to +the ground. I put my buffalo robes back into the buggy, rode to the +court house, had my papers recorded, and then drove back ten miles to +town, none the worse for my adventure, but the stableman charged me +fifty cents for the strap that I was obliged to leave on the church +spire." + +A number of low whistles, intermixed with several "whews!" were heard, +as Quincy finished his story. + +"Wall, by thunder!" ejaculated Stiles, "how do yer account for--" + +"I think it must have been a sudden thaw," remarked Quincy, with a grave +face. + +"One thing puzzles me," said the Professor. + +"What is that?" asked Quincy politely, "perhaps I can explain." + +"Before you left the church," asked the Professor, "why didn't you reach +up and ontie that strap?" + +Another loud shout of laughter broke from the company, and Quincy, +realizing that the Professor had beaten him fairly by putting a point on +his own story, joined heartily in the laugh at his own expense. + +"That reminds me," said Abner Stiles, "of an adventure that I had +several years ago, down in Maine, when I wuz younger and spryer'n I am +now." + +"How old be you?" said the Professor. + +"Wall," replied Abner, "the family Bible makes me out to be fifty-eight, +but jedgin' from the fun I've had I'm as old as Methooserlar." + +This remark gave Stiles the preliminary laugh, which he always counted +upon when he told a story. + +"Did yer ever meet a b'ar?" asked he, directing his remark to Quincy. + +"Yes," said Quincy, "I've stood up before one many a time." + +"Well, really," exclaimed Abner, "how'd yer come off?" + +"Usually with considerable less money than when I went up," replied +Quincy, seeing that Abner was mystified. + +"What?" said Abner. "I mean a real black b'ar, one of those big, shaggy +fellers sech as you meet in the woods down in Maine." + +"Oh," said Quincy, "I was talking about an open bar, such as you find in +bar-rooms and hotels." + +This time the laugh was on Abner, and he was considerably nettled by it. + +"Go on, Abner, go on!" came from several voices, and thus reassured, he +continued: + +"Wall, as I wuz goin' to say, I was out partridge shooting down in Maine +several years ago, and all I had with me was a fowlin' piece and a pouch +of bird shot. In fact, I didn't have any shot left, for I'd killed 'bout +forty partridges. I had a piece of strong twine with me, so I tied their +legs together and slung 'em over my shoulder. I was jest goin' to start +for hum when I heerd the boughs crackin' behind me, and turnin' 'round I +saw--Geewhillikins!--a big black b'ar not more'n ten feet from me. I had +nothin' to shoot him with, and knew that the only way to save my life +wuz to run for it. I jest bent over and threw the partridges on the +ground, thinkin' as I did so that perhaps the b'ar would stop to eat +them, and I could git away. I started to run, but caught my toe in some +underbrush and went down ker-slap. I said all the prayers I knew in +'bout eight seconds, then got up, and started to run ag'in. Like Lot's +wife, I couldn't help lookin' back, and there wuz the b'ar flat on his +back. I went up to him kinder cautious, for I didn't know but he might +be shammin', them black b'ars are mighty cute; but, no, he wuz deader'n +a door nail. I took the partridges back to town, and then a party on us +came back and toted the b'ar home." + +Every one sat quietly for a moment, then Quincy asked with a sober face, +"What caused the bear's death; was it heart disease?" + +"No," said Abner, "'twas some sort of brain trouble. Yer see, when I +threw those partridges onter the ground it brought a purty powerful +strain onto my galluses. When we cut the b'ar up we found one of my +pants buttons right in the centre of his brain." + +Abner's story was greeted with those signs of approval that were so dear +to his heart, and Quincy, realizing that when you are in Rome you must +do as the Romans do, was not backward in his applause. + +All eyes were now turned to the Professor. + +"I don't think," said he, "that I can make up a lie to match with those +that have jist been told, but if any of you are enough interested in the +truth to want to listen to a true story, I kin tell you one that came +under my observation a few days ago." + +All looked inquiringly at Strout, but none spoke. + +"Wall," said he, "I s'pose I must consider as how silence means consent, +and go ahead. Wall" he continued, "you all know, or most all on yer do, +old Bill Tompkins, that lives out on the road to Montrose. This +occurrence took place early las' summer. Old Bill hisself is too +close-mouthed to let on about it, but when I was over there the other +day, arter givin' Lizzy Tompkins her music-lesson, I got talkin' with +her mother, and one thing led to another, and finally I got the whole +story outer her. Old Bill had a cow that they called 'Old Jinnie.' She +was always mischeevous, but last year she'd been wusser'n ever. She'd +git out of the barn nights, and knock down fences, and tramp down flower +gardens, and everybody said she wuz a pesky noosance. One night old Bill +and his family wuz seated 'round the centre table in the sittin'-room. +There wuz Mary, his wife; and George, his oldest boy, a young fellow +about eighteen; Tommy, who is a ten-year-older, and little Lizzy, who is +about eight. George wuz readin' somethin' out of a paper to 'em, when +they heerd a-runnin' and a-jumpin', and old Bill said, 'That varmint's +got out of the barn and is rampagin' 'round agin,' The winder curt'ins +wuz up, and old Jinnie must 'a' seed the light, for she run pell-mell +agin the house, and drove her horns through the winder, smashin' four +panes. Old Bill and George managed to git her back inter the barn and +tied her up. + +"As they wuz walking back to the house, old Bill said, 'Consarn her +picter, I'll make beef o' her to-morrer or my name ain't Bill Tompkins,' +When they got back to the settin'-room, George said, 'How be yer goin' +ter do it, dad?' 'Why, cut her throat,' said Bill. 'You can't do it,' +said George, 'the law sez yer must shoot her fust in the temple,' 'All +right,' said old Bill, 'you shoot and I'll carve,' So next mornin' they +led old Jinnie out with her head p'inted towards the barn. George had +loaded up the old musket, and stood 'bout thirty feet off. George +didn't know just edzactly where the cow's temple wuz, but he imagined it +must be somewhere atween her eyes, so he fired and hit her squar' in the +forehead. That was enough for old Jinnie, she jist ducked her head, and +with a roar like the bull of Bashan she put for George. He dropped the +musket and went up the ladder inter the haymow livelier'n he ever did +before, you kin bet. Old Jinnie struck the ladder and knocked it +galley-west. Old Jinnie then turned 'round and spied little Tommy. He +put, and she put arter him. There wasn't nothin' else to do, so Tommy +took a high jump and landed in the pig-sty. Old Bill is kinder deef in +one ear, and he didn't notice much what wuz goin' on on that side of +him. He was runnin' the grindstone and puttin' a good sharp edge on his +butcher knife, when he happened to look up and seed old Jinnie comin' +head on. He dropped the knife and started for the house, thinkin' he'd +dodge in the front door. Over went the grindstone and old Jinnie, too, +but she wuz up on her feet ag'in quicker'n scat. She seemed to scent the +old man, for when she got to the front door she turned in and then +bolted right into the parlor. Old Bill heerd her comin', and he went +head fust through the open winder, and landed in the orchard. He got up +and run for a big apple-tree that stood out near the road, and never +stopped till he'd clumb nearly to the top. Little Lizzie gave a yell +like a catamount and ran behind the pianner, which was sot out a little +from the wall. Old Jinnie went bunt inter the planner and made a +sandwich of Lizzie, who wuz behind it. Mis' Tompkins heard Lizzie +scream, and come to see what the matter was. When she see Jinnie she +jist made strides for the wood-shed, and old Jinnie sashayed arter her. +Mis' Tompkins went skitin' through the wood-shed. There wuz a pair of +steps that led up inter the corn barn, and Mis' Tompkins got up there +jist as old Jinnie walked off with the steps. Then old Jinnie took a +walk outside and looked 'round as unconsarned as though nothin' had +happened. Jist about this time one of them tin peddlers come along that +druv one of them red carts with pots, and pans, and kittles, and brooms, +and brushes, and mops hung all over it. He spied old Bill up in the +tree, and sez he, 'What be yar doin', Farmer Tompkins?' 'Pickin' +apples,' said old Bill. He don't waste words on nobody. 'Ain't it rather +early for apples?' inquired the peddler. 'These are some I forgot to +pick last fall,' replied old Bill. 'Anythin' in my line?' said the +peddler. 'Ain't got no money,' said Bill. 'Hain't you got something you +want to trade?' asked the peddler. 'Yes,' said Bill, 'I'll swap that cow +over yonder; you kin have her for fifteen dollars, an' I'll take it all +in trade,' 'Good milker?' said the man. 'Fust-class butter,' said old +Bill. 'What do you want in trade?' said the man. 'Suit yerself,' said +Bill, 'chuck it down side of the road there.' This was soon done, and +the peddler druv up front of old Jinnie and went to git her, so as to +tie her behind his waggin. She didn't stop to be led. Down went her head +agin and she made for the peddler. He got the other side of his team +jist as old Jinnie druv her horns 'tween the spokes of the forrard +wheel. Down come the pots, and pans, and kittles, in ev'ry direction. A +clotheshorse fell on the horse's back and off he started on a dead run, +and that wuz the end of poor Jinnie. Before she could pull back her +horns, round went the wheel and broke her neck. The peddler pulled up +his horse and went back to see old Bill, who was climbin' down from the +apple tree. 'What am I goin' to do about this?' said the peddler. 'I wuz +countin' on drivin' her over to the next town and sellin' her or tradin' +her off, but I hain't got no use for fresh beef.' 'Wall,' said old Bill, +'considering circumstances we'll call the trade off. You kin keep your +stuff and I'll keep my beef.' The peddler loaded up and druv off. Then +old Bill went in and pulled Lizzie out from behind the pianner, and put up +the steps so Mrs. Tompkins could come down from the corn barn, and +fished Tommy out of the pig-sty, and threw a bucket of water over him, +and put up the ladder so George could git down from the haymow, and they +all got round poor old Jinnie and stood as hard as they could and +laughed." Here Professor Strout pushed back his chair and rose to his +feet. "That's how old Bill Tompkins got his beef." + +There was a general laugh and a pushing back of chairs, and the whole +company arose and went in various directions to their afternoon work. +Professor Strout went into the front entry, for he always entered and +left the house by the front door. Quincy followed him, and closing the +door that led into the dining-room, said, "Mr. Strout, I would like to +see you in my room for half an hour on important business." + +"I guess 'tain't as important as some business of my own I've got to +attend to this arternoon. I'm goin' over to the Centre to fix up my +accounts as tax collector with the town treasurer." + +"I think my business is fully as important as that," said Quincy, "it +relates to your appointment as postmaster." + +"Oh, you've got a hand in that, have yer?" asked Strout, an angry flush +suffusing his face. + +"I have both hands in it," replied Quincy imperturbably, "and it rests +with you entirely whether I keep hold or let go." + +"Wall," said Strout, looking at his watch, "I kin spare you half an +hour, if it will be as great an accommodation to yer as yer seem to +think it will." + +And he followed Quincy upstairs to the latter's room. + + + + +CHAPTER XXX. + +A SETTLEMENT. + + +When they entered the room Quincy motioned Strout to a chair, which he +took. He then closed the door and, taking a cigar case from his pocket, +offered a cigar to Strout, which the latter refused. Quincy then lighted +a cigar and, throwing himself into an armchair in a comfortable +position, looked straight at the Professor, who returned his gaze +defiantly, and said: + +"Mr. Strout, there is an open account of some two month's standing +between us, and I have asked you to come up here to-day, because I think +it is time for a settlement" + +"I don't owe you nuthin'," said Strout, doggedly. + +"I think you owe me better treatment than you have given me the past two +months," remarked Quincy, "but we'll settle that point later." + +"I guess I've treated you as well as you have me," retorted Strout, with +a sneer. + +"But you began it," said Quincy, "and had it all your own way for two +months; I waited patiently for you to stop, but you wouldn't, so the +last week I've been squaring up matters, and there is only one point +that hasn't been settled. From what I have heard," continued Quincy, "I +am satisfied that Miss Mason has received full reparation for any +slanderous remarks that may have been started or circulated by you +concerning herself." + +The Professor attentively regarded the pattern of the carpet on the +floor. + +Quincy continued, "Miss Lindy Putnam has repeated to me what she told +Mr. Stiles about her visit to Boston, and attributed the distorted and +untrue form in which it reached the inhabitants of this town to your +well-known powers of invention. Am I right?" + +The Professor looked up. "I'll have somethin' to say when you git +through," he replied. + +"I expect and ask no apology or reparation for what you've said about +me," remarked Quincy. "You made your boast that one of us had got to +leave town, and it wouldn't be you. When I heard that I determined to +stay at whatever cost, and we'll settle this afternoon which one of us +is going to change his residence." + +"I don't think you kin run me out o' town," said Strout, savagely. + +"Well, I don't know," rejoined Quincy. "Let us see what I have done in a +week. You insulted Mr. Pettengill and his sister by not inviting them to +the surprise party. I know it was done to insult me rather than them, +but you will remember that we three were present, and had a very +pleasant time. I was the lawyer that advised Deacon Mason not to loan +that five hundred dollars to pay down on the store. I told the Deacon I +would loan him five hundred dollars if the store was knocked down to +you, but I would have had that store if it had cost me ten thousand +dollars instead of three. I was the one who put your war record in the +hands of Mr. Tobias Smith, and I was the one that prepared the statement +which showed how negligent you had been in attending to your duties as +tax collector." + +"Payin' so much attention to other people's business must have made yer +forget yer own," said Strout, shutting his teeth together with a snap. + +"Oh, no," remarked Quincy, with a laugh; "I had plenty of time left to +take a hand in village politics, and my friend Mr. Stackpole was elected +by a very handsome vote, as you have no doubt heard." Strout dug his +heel into the carpet, but said nothing. + +"Now," continued Quincy, "I've had your appointment as postmaster held +up till you and I come to terms." + +"You're takin' a lot of trouble for nothin'," said Strout. "I can't be +postmaster unless I have a store. I guess I kin manage to live with my +music teachin' and organ playin' at the church." + +"I've thought of that," said Quincy. "I don't wish to go to extremes, +but I will if it is necessary. Before you leave this room, Mr. Strout, +you must decide whether you will work with me or against me in the +future." + +"S'posin' I decide to work agin yer?" asked Strout; "what then?" + +"Well," said Quincy sternly, "if you drive me to it, I'll bring down a +couple of good music teachers from Boston. They'll teach music for +nothing, and I'll pay them good salaries. The church needs a new organ, +and I'll make them a present of one, on condition that they get a new +organist." + +Strout looked down reflectively for a few minutes, then he glanced up +and a queer smile passed over his face. "S'posin' I switch 'round," said +he, "and say I'll work with yer?" + +"If you say it and mean it, Mr. Strout," replied Quincy, rising from his +chair, "I'll cross off the old score and start fresh from to-day. I'm no +Indian, and have no vindictive feelings. You and I have been playing +against each other and you've lost every trick. Now, if you say so, +we'll play as partners. I'll give you a third interest in the grocery +store for a thousand dollars. The firm name shall be Strout & Maxwell. +I'll put in another thousand dollars to buy a couple of horses and +wagons, and we'll take orders and deliver goods free to any family +within five miles of the store. Maxwell will have a third, and I'll have +a third as silent partner, and I'll see that you get your appointment +as postmaster." + +Quincy looked at Strout expectantly, awaiting his answer. Finally it +came. + +"Considerin' as how you put it," said Strout, "I don't think you and me +will clash in the futur'." + +Quincy extended his hand, which Strout took, and the men shook hands. + +"That settles it," said Quincy. + +"Just half an hour!" exclaimed Strout, looking at his watch. + +A loud knock was heard on the door. + +"I guess Abner has got tired o' waitin' and has come arter me," remarked +Strout. + +Quincy opened the door and Mr. Stiles stood revealed. + +"Is Professor Strout here?" asked he. + +"Yes," said Quincy; "come in." + +"I guess I'll see him out here," continued Abner. "What I've got to say +may be kinder private." + +"Come in, Abner," cried Strout, "and let's hear what's on your mind." + +"Wall," said Abner, looking askance at Quincy, "if yer satisfied, I am. +Hiram Maxwell's jest came down from Mis' Putnam's, and Mis' Heppy +Putnam's dead,"--Quincy started on hearing this,--"and Samanthy Green is +at her wits' end, 'cause she never was alone in the house with a dead +pusson afore, an' Hiram's goin' to take Betsy Green back to stay with +her sister, and then he's goin' to take Miss Alice Pettengill down home, +cuz Miss Pettengill's most tired out; cuz, you see, she's been there +since eight o'clock this mornin', and Mis' Putnam didn't die till about +one o'clock, and Samanthy says Mis' Putnam took on awful, so you could +hear her all over the house, and Miss Lindy Putnam, she's goin' to take +the next train to Bosting--she's goin', bag and baggage--and I've got to +drive her over to the station, and Bob Wood, he's comin' along with a +waggin to carry her trunks and bandboxes and sich, and so I've come to +tell yer, Professor, that I can't take yer over to the Centre this +arternoon, no how." + +"That's all right, Abner," said Strout; "considerin' as how things has +gone, to-morrow will do just as well, but I wish you'd drop in and tell +the town treasurer that I'm goin' into business with Mr. Maxwell and Mr. +Sawyer here,"--Abner's eyes dilated,--"under the firm name of Strout, +Maxwell, & Co." + +"No!" interrupted Quincy, "let the sign read, Strout & Maxwell." + +"And," continued Mr. Strout, "Mr. Sawyer here is goin' to push through +my app'intment as postmaster." + +By this time Abner's mouth was wide open. Quincy saw it, and imagined +the conflict going on in poor Abner's mind. + +"What Mr. Strout says is correct," remarked Quincy, "but you have no +time to lose now. Perhaps to-night Mr. Strout will explain the matter +more fully to you." + +Abner turned, without a word, and left the room. + +"Mr. Stiles is a faithful friend of yours," said Quincy, turning to the +Professor. + +"Yes," assented Strout; "Abner's a very good shaft horse, but he +wouldn't be of much vally as a lead." + +Quincy again extended his cigar case. This time the Professor did not +refuse, but took two. Holding up one of them between his fingers, he +said, "This is the one I didn't take when I came in." + +"I will have the partnership papers drawn up in a few days, Mr. Strout, +ready for signature, and I will write at once to my friends in +Washington, and urge them to see the Postmaster General, and have your +appointment made as soon as possible." + +"Yer don't let no grass grow under yer feet, do yer?" said Strout. + +Quincy was a little taken aback by this remark, for he had not +anticipated a compliment from the Professor. He turned to him and said, +"Until you forfeit my esteem, we are friends, and it is always a +pleasure to me to help my friends." + +The men shook hands again, and the Professor left the room. + +"Not a bad man at heart," soliloquized Quincy. "I am glad the affair has +had such a pleasant termination. Poor Alice! What a time she must have +had with Mrs. Putnam, and so Lindy is going to keep her word, and not +stay to the funeral. Well, knowing what I do, I don't blame her. Perhaps +Mrs. Putnam told Alice that Lindy was not her own child, for Alice would +not accept the fortune, I know, if she thought she was wronging Lindy by +doing so. I'll go home,"--he smiled as he said this,--"and probably +Alice will tell me all about it." + +He went down stairs, and not seeing Mrs. Hawkins in the dining-room, +walked out into the kitchen, where she was hard at work washing the +dinner dishes. + +"Law, Mr. Sawyer, why didn't you holler for me ef you wanted anything?" + +"I don't wish for anything particularly," said Quincy, "but I do wish to +compliment you on your chicken salad; it was as fine as any I ever ate +at Young's, or Parker's, in Boston, and," continued he, "here are twelve +dollars." He held out the money to her, she wiped her hands on her +apron. + +"What's that fur?" she asked. "I've got six dollars of your money now." + +"That's for Mandy," said Quincy; "and this," pressing the money into her +hand, "is for four weeks' room rent; I am liable to come here any time +during the next month. I am going into business with Mr. Strout and Mr. +Maxwell--we're going to run the grocery store over here, and it will be +very handy to be so near to the store until we get the business +established. Good afternoon, Mrs. Hawkins," and he took her hand, which +was still wet, in his, and shook it warmly. + +He turned to leave the house by the kitchen door, but Mrs. Hawkins +interposed. + +"You better go out the front way," said she, and she ran before him and +opened the door leading to the front entry, and then the front door. As +he passed out, she said, "I wish you success, Mr. Sawyer, and we'll gin +you all our trade." + +"Thank you!" said Quincy. He walked down the path, opened the front +gate, and as he closed it raised his hat to Mrs. Hawkins, who stood in +the front doorway, her thin, angular face wreathed in smiles. + +"Wall," said she, as she closed the front door and walked back into the +kitchen, "what lies some folks tell. Now, that Professor Strout has +allus said that Mr. Sawyer was so stuck up that he wouldn't speak to +common folks. Wall, I think he's a real gentleman. 'Twon't do for any +one to run him down to me after this." + +Here she thought of her money, and, spreading out the three bills in her +hand, she opened the kitchen door and screamed at the top of her voice, +"Jonas! Jonas!! Jonas!!!" There were no signs of Jonas. "Where is that +man? He's never 'round when he's wanted." + +"What is it, Marthy?" said a voice behind her. Turning, she saw her +husband puffing away at his brierwood pipe. + +"I thought you went out to the barn," said she, "to help Abner hitch +up?" + +"Wall, I did," he replied; "but it didn't take two on us long to do +that. I eat so much chicken salad that it laid kinder heavy on my +stummick, so I went out in the wood-shed to have a smoke. But where did +you git all that money?" + +"Mr. Sawyer took the front room for two weeks and paid for it ahead, and +do you know he said my chicken salad was jist as good as Mrs. Young and +Mrs. Parker makes down to Bosting." + +"I don't know Mrs. Young nor Mrs. Parker," said Jonas, "but on makin' +chicken salad I'll match Mrs. Hawkins agin 'em any day;" and he went out +in the wood-shed to finish his smoke. + +As Quincy walked down the road towards the Pettengill house his mind was +busy with his thoughts. + +"To think," said he to himself, "that while I was listening to those +stories, to call them by no worse name, at the dinner table, the woman I +love was witnessing the death agony and listening to the last words of a +dear friend--the woman who's going to leave her a fortune. Now that she +knows that she's an heiress, I can speak; she never would have listened +to me, knowing that she was poor and I was rich, and I never could have +spoken to her with that secret in my mind that Mrs. Putnam told me--that +she was going to leave her all her money. I am so glad for Alice's sake, +even if she does not love me. She can have the best medical attendance +now, and she will be able to give all her time to her literary work, for +which she has a decided genius. Won't she be delighted when I tell her +that Leopold has placed all her stories and wants her to write a book?" + +As he reached the front gate he saw Hiram driving up the road and Alice +was with him. As Hiram stopped, Quincy stepped forward and took Alice's +hand to assist her in alighting from the buggy. + +"Oh, Mr. Sawyer," said she, "have you heard that Mrs. Putnam is dead, +and I've had such a terrible day with her?" + +Her nervous system had been wrought to its highest tension by what she +had undergone during the past six hours. She burst into a flood of +tears. Then she tottered and would have fallen if Quincy had not grasped +her. + +"Can you walk?" he asked. + +She took a step forward, but he saw at a glance that she had not +sufficient strength to reach her room. + +"Open the gate, Hiram. Then give the door-bell a good sharp ring, so +that Mandy will come quickly." + +He took her in his arms and went up the path, by the astonished Mandy, +and upstairs to Alice's room, where he laid her tenderly upon her bed. +Turning to Mandy, who had followed close at his heels, he said: + +"She is not sick, only nervous and worn out. If you need me, call me." + +He went into his own room and thanked Heaven that he had been at hand to +render her the service that she so much needed. When he went down to +supper Mandy told him that Miss Alice was asleep, and she guessed she'd +be all right in the morning. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXI. + +AN INHERITANCE. + + +Quincy reached his room at Mrs. Hawkins's boarding house about midnight +of the day of the town meeting. About the same hour Mrs. Heppy Putnam +awoke from a troubled sleep and felt a pain, like the thrust of a knife +blade, through her left side. The room was dark and cold, the wood fire +in the open grate having died out a couple of hours before, while a cool +wind was blowing with great force outside. + +Mrs. Putnam came of the old stock which considered it a virtue to suffer +and be silent, rather than call out and be saved. So she lay for five +long hours suffering intense pain, but declaring to herself, with all +the sturdiness of an old Roman warrior or an Indian chief, that she +would not ask for any assistance "till it wuz time for folks to git up." + +This delay was fatal, or was destined to become so, but she did not know +it; she had had colds before, and she had always got well. Why should'nt +she now? It is a strange vagary of old people to consider themselves +just as young as they used to be, notwithstanding their advanced years. +To the majority of the old people, the idea of death is not so appalling +as the inability to work and the incapacity to enjoy the customary +pleasures of life. + +Mrs. Putnam had always been an active, energetic woman until she had +lost her power to walk as the result of rheumatic fever; in fact, it was +always acknowledged and said by the country folk that she was the better +half of the matrimonial firm of Silas and Hepsibeth Putnam. Since her +husband's failure to mount to Heaven on the day fixed for the Second +Advent she had had entire control of the family finances. Her +investments, many of which had been suggested by her deceased son, J. +Jones Putnam, had been very profitable. + +She owned the house in which she lived, which was the largest, best +finished, and best furnished one in the town of Eastborough. It occupied +a commanding position on the top of a hill, and from its upper windows +could be obtained a fine view of the surrounding country. The soil at +Mason's Corner was particularly fertile, and this fact had led to the +rapid growth of the village, which was three miles from the business +centre of Eastborough, and only a mile from the similar part of the +adjoining town of Montrose. + +Back of the Putnam homestead were the best barns, carriage houses, sheds +and other outbuildings to be found in the town, but for years they had +been destitute of horses, cattle, and other domestic animals. + +Mr. Putnam had disliked dogs because they killed sheep, and Mrs. Putnam +detested cats. For years no chanticleer had awakened echoes during the +morning hours, and no hens or chickens wandered over the neglected farm. +The trees in the large orchard had not been pruned for a long time, and +the large vegetable garden was overrun with grass and weeds. + +Back of the orchard and the vegetable garden, and to the right and left +of the homestead, were about a hundred and sixty acres of arable pasture +and wood-land, the whole forming what could be easily made the finest +farm in the town. + +The farm had been neglected simply because the income from her +investments was more than sufficient for the support of the family. The +unexpended income had been added to the principal, until Mrs. Putnam's +private fortune now amounted to fully fifty thousand dollars, invested +in good securities, together with the house and farm, which were free +from mortgage. + +When the first streaks of morning reached the room in which Mrs. Putnam +lay upon her bed of pain, she seized one of her crutches, and pounded +vigorously upon the floor. In a short time Samanthy Green entered the +room. She was buttoning up her dress as she came in, and her hair was in +a dishevelled condition. + +"Why, what on earth's the matter? You wheeze like our old pump out in +the barn. You do look real sick, to be sure." + +"Wall, if you don't like the looks of me," said Mrs. Putnam sharply, +"don't look at me." + +"But didn't you pound?" asked Samanthy. "Don't you want me to go for the +doctor?" + +"No," replied Mrs. Putnam, "I don't want no doctor. The fust thing that +I want you to do is to go and comb that frowzy pate of yourn, and when +you git that done I want yer to make me a mustard plaster 'bout as big +as that;" and she held up her hands about a foot apart. "Now go, and +don't stand and look at me as though I wuz a circus waggin." + +Samanthy left the room quickly, but she had no sooner closed the door +when Mrs. Putnam called out her name in a loud voice, and Samanthy +opened the door and looked in. + +"Did you call, marm?" she asked. + +"Of course I did," said Mrs. Putnam testily. "I guess ye wouldn't have +come back if yer hadn't known I did." + +Mrs. Putnam was evidently in a bad temper, and Samanthy had learned by +years of experience to keep a close mouth under such circumstances, so +she waited for Mrs. Putnam's next words without replying. Finally Mrs +Putnam spoke. "I wish you'd bring up some wood and start a fire, the +room's kinder cold." + +When Samanthy reached the kitchen she found Lindy there. + +"Why, Miss Lindy," said she, "what are you up so early for?" + +"I heard mother pounding and I thought she might be sick." + +"She is awful sick," rejoined Samanthy; "I never saw her look so poorly +afore; she seems to be all choked up. She wants a big mustard plaster +and a fire up in her room, and I don't know which to do fust. Oh!" she +cried, "I must comb my hair before I go back;" and she wet a brush and +commenced brushing out her long brown hair, which, with her rosy cheeks, +formed her two principal claims to good looks. + +"Sit down," said Lindy, "and I'll fix your hair up much quicker than you +can do it yourself." + +"And much better, too," added Samanthy thankfully. + +"While you're building the fire," continued Lindy, "I'll mix up the +mustard plaster." + +When Samanthy entered the chamber with the materials for the fire, Mrs. +Putnam opened her eyes and said sharply, "Did yer bring that plaster?" + +"No," said Samanthy, "I thought I would build the fire fust." + +"Wall," said Mrs. Putnam, "I want the plaster fust, and you go right +down stairs and mix it up quick." + +When Samanthy returned to the kitchen she found that Lindy had the +plaster all ready. Samanthy took it, and started upstairs. + +Lindy said to her, "Don't tell her that I made it." As she said this she +stepped back into the kitchen and closed the door. + +As Samanthy approached the bedside with the plaster, Mrs. Putnam looked +up and asked, "Did you make that plaster, Samanthy?" + +"Yes'm," replied Samanthy. + +"You're lyin', Samanthy Green, and you know yer are. You can't fool me. +Didn't I hear yer talkin' to somebody in the kitchen?" + +"Yes'm," assented Samanthy. + +"Wall," rejoined Mrs. Putnam, "of course I know who it wuz yer wuz +talkin' to. Did she make the plaster?" + +"Yes'm," again assented Samanthy. + +"Give it to me," said Mrs. Putnam. + +Samanthy passed it to her, and the old lady crumpled it in her hand's +and threw it across the room. "Now go down stairs, Samanthy Green, and +make me a mustard plaster, as I told yer to, and when I git up outer +this I'll see if I can't git somebody to wait on me that kin tell the +truth 'thout my havin' to help 'em." + +In the course of half an hour the new plaster was made and applied, and +a bright fire was shedding its warmth into the room. + +"Go down stairs and git yer breakfast," said Mrs. Putnam. "'Tis a trifle +early, but I hearn tell that lyin' makes people hungry." + +As Samanthy gave her an inquiring look, Mrs. Putnam said, "No, I don't +want nothin' to eat or drink nuther, but when yer git the dishes washed +I want yer ter go on an errand for me." + +It was half past six when Samanthy Green again stood in Mrs. Putnam's +room. + +"I want yer to go right down to Zeke Pettengill's and tell his sister +Alice that I want her to come right up here. Tell her it's my las' +sickness, and I won't take 'no' for an answer. Be sure you put it to her +jest as I do; and Samanthy," as Samanthy opened the door and was leaving +the room, "say, Samanthy, don't git anybody to do the errand for you." + +About ten minutes after Samanthy left the house, Lindy Putnam entered +the sick room. Mrs. Putnam's pain had been relieved somewhat by the +mustard, and this relief restored, to a great extent, her usual vigor of +mind. + +"What are you up here for?" cried Mrs. Putnam, a look of displeasure +clouding her face. + +"I knew Samanthy had gone out, and so I came up to see if I could do +anything for you, mother." + +"Don't mother me. I ain't your mother, and I mean everybody shall know +it soon's I'm dead." + +"I've had to say mother before other people," explained Lindy, "and +that's why I forgot myself then. Pray excuse me." + +"Oh, don't put on yer citified airs when yer talkin' to me. Ain't yer +glad I'm goin' ter die?" + +"I hope you will get better, Mrs. Putnam," answered Lindy. + +"You know better," rejoined Mrs. Putnam. "You'll be glad when I'm gone, +for then you kin go gallivantin' 'round and spend the money that my son +worked hard fur." + +"I've used very little of it," said Lindy; "less than the interest; I +have never touched the principal." + +Lindy still remained standing at the foot of the bed. + +"Didn't yer hear me say I didn't want nuthin'?" asked Mrs. Putnam. + +"I will leave the room then," replied Lindy quietly. + +"I wish you would," said Mrs. Putnam, "and you'll do me a favor if +you'll pack yer duds as quick as yer can and git out of the house and +never come back agin." + +"I will leave the room, but I cannot leave the house while you are +alive," remarked Lindy firmly. + +"Why not?" said Mrs. Putnam. "I want to die in peace, and I shall go +much easier if I know I haven't got to set my eyes on your face agin." + +"I promised Jones," said Lindy, "that I would never leave you while you +were alive." + +"Oh, you promised Jones, did yer?" cried Mrs. Putnam with a sneer. +"Wall, Jones will let you off on yer promise jest to 'blige me, so yer +needn't stay any longer." + +As Lindy walked towards the door, Mrs. Putnam spoke again. + +"Did yer ever tell anybody I wasn't yer mother?" Lindy hesitated. "Why +don't you out with it," said Mrs. Putnam, "and say no, no matter if it +is a lie? Samanthy can lie faster'n a horse can trot, and I know you put +her up to it." + +"I have been impudent and disrespectful to you many times, Mrs. Putnam, +when you were cross to me, but I never told you a deliberate lie in my +life. I have told one person that you were not my mother." + +"What did yer do it fur?" asked Mrs. Putnam. + +"I wished to retain his good opinion," replied Lindy. + +"Who was it?" inquired Mrs. Putnam eagerly. Lindy did not answer. "Oh, +you won't tell!" said Mrs. Putnam. "Wall, I bet I can guess; it's that +feller that's boardin' over to Pettingill's." + +Mrs. Putnam saw the blood rise in Lindy's face, and she chuckled to +herself. + +"What reason have you for forming such an opinion?" asked Lindy. + +"Wall, I can kinder put two and two together," said Mrs. Putnam. "The +day Alice Pettengill came over here with him you two wuz down in the +parlor together, and I had to pound on the floor three times afore I +could make him hear. I knew you must be either spoonin' or abusin' me." + +It was with difficulty that Lindy kept back the words which rose to her +lips, but she said nothing. + +"Did yer tell him that I wuz goin' to leave my money to some one else?" + +"It wasn't necessary," said Lindy, "I judged from some things that he +said that you had told him yourself." + +"Did he tell you who it wuz?" persisted Mrs. Putnam. + +"No," said Lindy. "I did my best to find out, but he wouldn't tell me." + +"Good for him," cried Mrs. Putnam. "Then ye don't know?" + +"I can put two and two together," replied Lindy. + +"But where'd yer git the two and two?" asked Mrs. Putnam. + +"Oh, I have surmised for a long time," continued Lindy. "This morning I +asked Samanthy where she was going, and she said down to Pettengill's. +Then I knew." + +"I told her not to tell," said Mrs. Putnam, "the lyin' jade. If I git up +off this bed she'll git her walkin' ticket." + +"She's ready to go," said Lindy; "she told me this morning that she'd +wait until you got a new girl." + +Mrs. Putnam closed her eyes and placed both of her hands over her heart. +Despite her fortitude the intense pain wrung a groan from her. + +Lindy rushed forward and dropped on her knees beside the bed. "Forgive +me, Mrs. Putnam," said she, "but you spoke such cruel words to me that I +could not help answering you in the same way. I am so sorry. I loved +your son with all my heart, and I had no right to speak so to his +mother, no matter what she said to me." + +The paroxysm of pain had passed, and Mrs. Putnam was her old self again. +Looking at the girl who was kneeling with her head bowed down she said, +"I guess both of us talked about as we felt; as for loving my son, yer +had no right to, and he had no right to love you." + +"But we were brother and sister," cried Lindy, looking up. + +"'Twould have been all right if he'd let it stop there," replied Mrs. +Putnam. "Who put it into his head that there was no law agin a man +marryin' his adopted sister? You wuz a woman grown of eighteen, and he +wuz only a young boy of sixteen, and you made him love yer and turn +agin his mother, and then we had ter send him away from home ter keep +yer apart, and then you ran after him, and then he died, and it broke my +heart. You wuz the cause of it, but for yer he would be livin' now, a +comfort to his poor old mother. I hated yer then for what yer did. Ev'ry +time I look at yer I think of the happiness you stole from me, an' I +hate yer wusser'n ever." + +"Oh, mother, mother!" sobbed Lindy. + +"I'm not your mother," screamed Mrs. Putnam. "I s'pose you must have had +one, but you'll never know who she wuz; she didn't care nuthin' fer yer, +for she left yer in the road, and Silas was fool enough to pick yer up +and bring yer home. What yer right name is nobody knows, and mebbe yer +ain't got none." + +At this taunt Lindy arose to her feet and looked defiantly at Mrs. +Putnam. "You are not telling the truth, Mrs. Putnam," said the girl; +"you know who my parents were, but you will not tell me." + +"That's right," said Mrs. Putnam, "git mad and show yer temper; that's +better than sheddin' crocodile's tears, as yer've been doin'; yer've +been a curse to me from the day I fust set eyes on yer. I've said I hate +yer, and I do, an' I'll never forgive yer fer what yer've done to me." + +Lindy saw that words were useless. Perhaps Mrs. Putnam might, recover, +and if she did not provoke her too far she might relent some day and +tell her what she knew about her parents; so she walked to the door and +opened it. Then she turned and said, "Good-by, Mrs. Putnam, I truly hope +that you will recover." + +"Wall, I sha'n't," said Mrs. Putnam. "I'm goin' to die, I want ter die. +I want ter see Jones; I want ter talk ter him; I want ter tell him how +much I loved him--how much I've suffered through yer. I'm goin' ter tell +him how I've hated yer and what fer, and when I git through talkin' to +him, I'll guarantee he'll be my way o' thinkin'." + +As the old woman said this, with an almost superhuman effort she raised +herself to a sitting posture, pointed her finger at Lindy, and gave +utterances to a wild, hysterical laugh that almost froze the blood in +the poor girl's veins. + +Lindy slammed the door behind her, rushed to her own room, locked the +door, and threw herself face downward upon the bed. Should she ever +forget those last fearful words, that vengeful face, that taunting +finger, or that mocking laugh? + +Samanthy took Alice up to Mrs. Putnam's room about eight o'clock. Alice +knelt by the bedside. She could not see the old lady's face, but she +took her withered hands in hers, and caressed them lovingly, saying, +"Aunt Heppy, I am sorry you are so sick. Have you had the doctor?" + +The old lady drew the young girl's head down close to her and kissed her +upon the cheek. "The docter kin do me no good. I've sent fer yer becuz I +know yer love me, and I wanted to know that one person would be sorry +when I wuz gone." + +"I'm so sorry," said Alice, "that I cannot see to help you, but you are +not going to die; you must have the doctor at once." + +"No," said Mrs. Putnam, "I want to die, I want to see my boy. I sent for +you becuz I wanted to tell you that I am goin' to leave this house and +farm and all my money to you." + +"To me!" cried Alice, astonished. "Why, how can you talk so, Aunt Heppy? +You have a daughter, who is your legal heir; how could you ever think of +robbing your own flesh and blood of her inheritance?" + +"She's no flesh and blood of mine!" + +"What!" cried Alice, "isn't Lindy your own child?" + +"No," said Mrs. Putnam savagely. "Silas and me didn't think we'd have +any children, so we 'dopted her jest afore we moved down from New +Hampshire and settled in this town." + +"Do you know who her parents were?" inquired Alice. + +"Alice, what did you do with that letter I gave you the las' time you +were here?" + +"It is locked up in my writing desk at home," answered Alice. + +"What did yer promise to do with it?" said Mrs. Putnam. + +"I promised," replied Alice, "not to let any one see it, and to destroy +it within twenty-four hours after your death." + +"And you will keep yer promise?" asked the old woman. + +"My word is sacred," said Alice solemnly. + +"Alice Pettengill," cried Mrs. Putnam, "if you break your word to me I +shall be sorry that I ever loved you; I shall repent that I made you my +heiress." And her voice rose to a sharp, shrill tone. "I'll haunt you as +long as you live." + +The girl shrank back from her. + +"Don't mind a poor old woman whose hours are numbered, but you'll keep +yer promise, won't yer, Alice?" And she grasped both Alice's hands +convulsively. + +"Aunt Heppy," said Alice, "I've given you my promise, and I'll keep my +word whatever happens. So don't worry any more about it, Auntie." + +For a few moments Mrs. Putnam remained quiet; then she spoke in clear, +even tones. Not a word was lost upon Alice. "This adopted daughter of +mine has been a curse to me ever since I knew her. She was two years +older than Jones. They grew up together as brother and sister, but she +wasn't satisfied with that, she fell in love with my son, and she made +him love her. She turned him agin his mother. She found out that there +wuz no law agin a man's marryin' his adopted sister. We had to send him +away from home, but she followed him. She wuz goin' to elope with him, +but I got wind of it, and I stopped that; then Jones died away from home +and left her all his money. He wuz so bitter agin me that he put in his +will that she was not to touch a dollar of my money, but better that +than to have her marry him. I stopped that!" and the old woman chuckled +to herself. Then her mood changed. "Such a marriage would 'a' been a sin +agin God and man," she said sternly. "She robbed me of my son, my only +boy, but I'll git even with her. She asked me this mornin' if I knew who +her parents wuz. I told her no, that she was a waif picked up in a New +Hampshire road, but I lied to her. I had to." + +"But do you know who they were?" said Alice. + +"Certainly I do," said Mrs. Putnam; "that letter you've got, and that +yer promised to destroy, tells all about 'em, but she shall never see +it. Never! Never!! Never!!!" + +Again she rose to a sitting posture, and again that wild, mocking laugh +rang through the house. Lindy, still lying upon her bed in her room, +heard it, shuddered, and covered her ears with her hands to shut out the +terrible sound. Samanthy, in the kitchen, heard it, and saying to +herself, "Mrs. Putnam has gone crazy, and only that blind girl with +her," ran upstairs. + +When Mrs. Putnam uttered that wild laugh, Alice started from her chair +with beating heart and a frightened look upon her face. As the door +opened and Samanthy entered, Alice stepped forward. She could not see +who it was, but supposing it was Lindy, she cried out, "Oh, Lindy, I'm +so glad you've come!" + +Mrs. Putnam had fallen back exhausted upon her pillow; when she heard +the name Lindy she tried to rise again, but could not. But her +indomitable spirit still survived. + +"So you've come back, have you?" she shrieked. "Yer couldn't let me die +in peace. You want to hear more, do you? Well, I'll tell you the truth. +I know who your parents are, but I destroyed the letter; it's burned. +That's what I had the fire built for this mornin'. You robbed me of my +son and I've got even with yer." The old woman pointed her finger at +poor Samanthy, who stood petrified in the doorway, and shrieked again, +"Go!" and she pointed her withered finger toward the door, "and hunt for +your parents." + +The astonished Samanthy finally plucked up courage to close the door; +she ran to Lindy's room and pounded upon the door until Lindy was forced +to admit her; then the frightened girl told Lindy what she had heard, +and again the worse than orphan threw herself upon her bed and prayed +that she, too, might die. + +Alice did not swoon, but she sank upon the floor, overcome by the horror +of the scene. No sound came from the bed. Was she dead? Alice groped her +way back to the chair in which she had previously sat; she leaned over +and listened. Mrs. Putnam was breathing still--faint, short breaths. +Alice took one of her hands in hers and prayed for her. Then she prayed +for the unhappy girl. Then she thought of the letter and the promise she +had made. Should she keep her promises to the dying woman, and thus be a +party to the wronging of this poor girl? + +"Mrs. Putnam! Mrs. Putnam!! Aunt Heppy!!!" she cried; "take back your +fortune, I do not want it; only release me from my oath. Oh, that I +could send for that letter and put it back into her hands before she +dies! If Mr. Sawyer were only here; but I do not know where to find +him." + +For hours, it seemed ages to Alice, she remained by the bedside of the +dying woman, seeing nothing, but listening intently, and hoping that she +would revive, hear her words, and release her from that horrid oath. + +Suddenly, Alice started; the poor old wrinkled, wasted hand that she +held in hers, was cold--so cold--she leaned over and put her ear above +the old woman's lips. There was no sound of breathing. She pulled down +the bed-clothes and placed her hand upon her heart. It was still. Mrs. +Putnam had gone to meet the boy she had loved and lost. + +Feeling her way along the wall, she reached the door. Flinging it wide +open, she cried, "Samantha! Lindy!" + +Samanthy came to the foot of the stairs. + +"What is it, Miss Pettengill?" asked she. + +"She's dead," said Alice, and she sank down upon the stairway. + +Samanthy ran quickly upstairs. She went first to Miss Lindy's room and +told her that all was over; then she came back, went into Mrs. Putnam's +room, pulled down the curtains, went to the bed and laid the sheet over +Mrs. Putnam's face. She looked at the fire to see that it was safe, came +out and closed the door. Then she helped Alice down stairs, led her into +the parlor and seated her in an easy-chair. + +"I'll bring you a nice cup of hot tea," said she; "I've just made some +for dinner." + +Lindy came down stairs and went to the front door. Hiram was there, +smoking a cigar, and beating his arms to keep warm. He had been waiting +outside for a couple of hours, and he was nearly frozen. + +"Mr. Maxwell," said Lindy; and Hiram came up the steps. "Mrs. Putnam is +dead," said she. "She expired just a few moments ago, about one +o'clock," she continued, looking at her watch. "I want you to go right +down to Mrs. Hawkins's and bring Betsy Green back to stay with her +sister; then tell Mr. Stiles to come up at once with the buggy and a +wagon to carry my trunks to the station. Tell Mr. Stiles I am going to +Boston on the next train. When you come back you can take Miss +Pettengill home. She will be through her lunch by the time you get back. +After you've taken her home, I want you to go and get Mrs. Pinkham, the +nurse; tell her Mrs. Putnam, is dead, and that I want her to come and +lay her out. Then drive over to Montrose and tell Mr. Tilton, the +undertaker, that I want him to make all the arrangements for the +funeral And take this for your trouble," said she, as she passed him a +five dollar bill. + +"Oh, that's too much," cried Hiram, drawing back. + +"Take it," said Lindy, with a smile; "I have plenty more--more than I +need--more than I know what to do with." + +As Hiram drove off he said to himself, "Lucky girl; she's mighty putty, +too. I wonder that city feller didn't shine up to her. I s'pose she's +comin' back to the funeral." + +As Lindy turned to go upstairs she looked into the parlor, and saw Alice +sitting with her head bowed upon her hand. Her first impulse was to go +in and try to justify herself in the eyes of this girl, with whom she +knew that Mr. Sawyer was in love; but no, she was but a waif, with no +name, no birthright, no heritage; that woman had cut her off from her +people. Truly, she had avenged her fancied wrongs. + +So Lindy went upstairs to her room, and remained there until after Alice +went home. + +When Abner Stiles returned from Eastborough, after having seen Lindy +Putnam and all her belongings safe on board the Boston train, he stopped +at the Putnam house to see if he could be of any further service. Mrs. +Pinkham had arrived some time before, and had attended to those duties +which she had performed for many years for both the young and old of +Mason's Corner, who had been called to their long home. Mr. Tilton, the +undertaker from Montrose, had come over immediately, and had given the +necessary professional service which such sad occasions demand. Mrs. +Pinkham called to Mr. Tilton, and he came to the door. + +"No; there is really nothing you can do, Mr. Stiles, unless you will be +so kind as to drive around to Deacon Mason's, Mr. Pettengill's, and Mrs. +Hawkins's, and inform them that the funeral will be from the church, at +two o'clock Friday afternoon. I will see that you are paid for your +services." + +Undertakers are naturally polite and courteous men. They step softly, +speak low, and are even-tempered. Their patrons do not worry them with +questions, nor antagonize their views of the fitness of things. + +When Abner reached his boarding house, after making his numerous calls, +it was about five o'clock; as he went upstairs he noticed that the door +of Strout's room was ajar. In response to his knock, the Professor said, +"Come in." + +"Wall, how do find things?" said Abner, as he entered the room. + +"By lookin' for 'em," said the Professor, with a jaunty air. + +"Oh, yer know what I mean," said Abner, throwing himself into a chair +and looking inquiringly at Strout. "What was goin' on this noon 'tween +you and that city feller?" + +"Well, you see," continued Strout, "Mr. Sawyer and me have been at +swords' points the las' two months over some pussonal matters. Well, he +kinder wanted to fix up things, but he knew I wouldn't consent to let up +on him 'less he treated me square; so I gets a third interest in the +grocery store, the firm name is to be Strout & Maxwell, and I'm to be +postmaster; so, you see, I got the best end after all, jest as I meant +to from the fust. But, see here, Stiles, Mr. Sawyer and I have agreed to +keep our business and our pussonal matters strictly private in the +futer, and you mustn't drop a word of what I've told yer to any livin' +soul." + +"I've carried a good many of yer secrets 'round with me," responded +Abner, "and never dropped one of 'em, as far as I know." + +"Oh, yer all right, old man," said the Professor; "but, yer know, for +the last two months our game has been to keep talkin'; now it will pay +us best to keep our mouths shet." + +"Mine's shut," said Abner; "now, what do I git? That job in the grocery +store that you promised me?" + +"Well, you see," said Strout, "when I made yer that promise, I expected +to own the whole store, but now, yer see, Maxwell will want ter pick one +of the men." + +"Yis, I see," said Abner; "but that leaves one fer you to pick, and I'm +ready to be picked." + +"Yes, I know," answered Strout; "but the work is goin' to be very hard, +liftin' barrels and big boxes, and I'm afraid you couldn't stand it very +long." + +A disappointed look came over Abner's face; he mused for a moment, then +he broke out, "Yes, I see; I'm all right for light work, sech as tellin' +lies 'bout people and spyin' out their actions, and makin' believe I've +seen things that I never heard of, and hearin' things that were never +said; but when it comes to good, clean, honest work, like liftin' +barrels and rollin' hogshead's, the other feller gets the job. All +right, Professor!" said he, getting up and walking towards the door; +"when you want anythin' in my line, let me know." And he went out and +slammed the door behind him. + +As he went upstairs to his room, he said to himself, "I have sorter got +the opinion that the Professor took what wuz given him, instid of +gittin' what he asked fer. I kinder guess that it'll pay me to be much +more partickler about number one in the futer than I've been." + + + + +CHAPTER XXXII. + +AUNT ELLA. + + +Deacon Mason had an early caller Wednesday morning. He was out in the +barn polishing up his silver-plated harness, for he was going to the +funeral on Friday with his family. Hiram had given him notice that he +would have to go up to the store at once. The Deacon didn't have anybody +in mind to take Hiram's place, and thought he might as well get used to +doing his own work until he came across the right party. + +He heard a voice. It said, "Good mornin', Deacon Mason;" and, looking +up, he saw Abner Stiles standing before him. + +"Good mornin', Abner," answered the Deacon, pleasantly; "what does the +Professor want?" + +"I don't know," said Abner; "I heerd that Hiram was goin' to leave yer, +so I came 'round to see if yer wanted ter hire a man." + +"Do yer know of one?" asked the Deacon with a smile. + +"That's all right, Deacon," said Abner. "I don't blame yer fer havin' +yer little joke. I've worked so long fer the Professor that I expect to +have it flung up at me. But I've renounced the Evil One and all his +wicked ways, and I want to be taken into a good Christian home, and +eventooally jine the church." + + "While the lamp holds out to burn, + The vilest sinner may return," + +quoted the Deacon, as he hung up one piece of harness and took down +another. + +"That's true as Gospel," said Abner; "and I hope you'll see it's your +duty, as I've heerd Parson Howe say, to save the brand from the +burnin'." + +"Well, you go in and talk to Mrs. Mason," said the Deacon; "she's the +one that wants the work done, and if she's satisfied to give yer a +trial, it's all the same to me." + +"Thank yer, Deacon," answered Abner. "There's one p'int in my favor, +Deacon; I hain't got no girl, and I sha'n't take any of your time to go +courtin';" and with this sly dig at Hiram, he went in to settle his fate +with the Deacon's wife. + +On that same Wednesday morning all of the Pettengill family were +together at the breakfast table. The conversation naturally turned to +Mrs. Putnam's death, and Ezekiel remarked "that she was a nice old lady, +and that she and his mother were great friends. It beats all," continued +he, "the way Lindy has acted. Abner Stiles told me that she took the +half-past three train to Boston, and he said Bob Wood took over an +express wagon full of trunks. Samanthy Green told Stiles that Lindy +hadn't left a single thing in the house that belonged to her, and it +don't look as though she was comin' back to the funeral." + +During this recital, Alice listened intently. She flushed then grew +pale, and finally burst into tears. All present, of course, attributed +her agitation to her well known love for Mrs. Putnam. + +"Shall I go upstairs with you, Sis?" asked Ezekiel. + +"No," said Alice, drying her eyes, "I'm going into the parlor. I told +Mandy to build a fire there, and I want you and Uncle Ike and Mr. Sawyer +to come with me." + +When they were gathered in the parlor, Alice began her story. Every word +said by the dead woman had burned itself deep into her memory, and from +the time she entered the sick room until she fell exhausted upon the +stairway, after calling loudly for Samanthy and Lindy, not a word was +missing from the thrilling narrative. Her audience, including even +Quincy, listened intently to the dramatically told story, and they could +almost see the frenzied face, the pointed finger, and hear the wild, +mocking laugh. + +For a few moments nothing was said. Finally, Ezekiel broke the silence. + +"Well, I guess," said he, "that will of her'n will stand, all right. +Lindy's got enough of her own; she won't be likely to interfere; and I +never he'rd of their havin' any other relatives." + +Then Uncle Ike spoke up. "I shall go to the funeral, of course, next +Friday, and I shall expect to hear the Rev. Mr. Howe stand up in his +pulpit and tell us what a good Christian woman Hepsy was; she was so +kind and so benevolent, and so regardful of the feelings of others, and +it wouldn't make a bit of difference if you went and told him what +you've told us, Alice; he'd say just the same thing." + +"Oh, hush! Uncle Ike," cried Alice, pleadingly; "she was a good woman, +excepting on that one point, and you must own that she had some +provocation. Let me ask you a question, Uncle Ike. How far should +promises made to the dead be kept?" + +"Just so far," replied Uncle Ike, "as they do not interfere with the +just rights of the living. Where is that letter that she wanted you to +destroy?" he asked. + +"Here it is," said Alice, and she took it from the bosom of her dress. + +"Well," said Uncle Ike, "if I were in your place I'd open that letter, +read it, and if it was likely to be of any value to Miss Putnam in +finding her parents or relatives, I'd hunt her up and give it to her. +Mrs. Putnam owned up that she lied about it, and the whole thing, any +way, may be a bluff. Perhaps it's only blank paper, after all." + +"No," said Alice, "I could never open it or read it. I laid awake all +night, thinking about my promise, and I finally made up my mind that I +would go to see Lindy this morning, and let her read it; but now she has +gone away, and we do not know where to find her. What shall I do with +this dreadful thing?" she cried, as she held the letter up in her hand. + +Quincy felt called upon to speak. + +"Miss Pettengill," said he, "I think I could find Miss Putnam for you." +A slight flush arose to Alice's cheek which did not escape Quincy's +notice. He continued, "When I went to Boston, last Saturday, I happened +to meet her on the train. She told me then something of her story, and +said she was going to leave the house forever, as soon as Mrs. Putnam +died. She also told me that if I ever learned anything about her parents +I could reach her by advertising in the Personal Column of the New York +'Herald,' addressing 'Linda,' and signing it 'Eastborough.'" + +"And will you do this at once for me?" cried Alice, eagerly. "I am so +thankful; you have taken such a load from my mind, Mr. Sawyer. How +fortunate it was that you met her as you did? + +"I think Mr. Sawyer is about as lucky as they make 'em," remarked! Uncle +Ike, with a laugh. + +"Kind fortune owes me one or two favors yet before I shall be entirely +satisfied," said Quincy. "Now, Miss Pettengill, will you allow me to +make a suggestion that will free you from the further care of this +document?" + +"I don't care what is done with it," said Alice; "but no one but Lindy +must read it." + +"That is any idea exactly," assented Quincy. "I will go to Boston on the +noon train and send that advertisement to the New York 'Herald,' With +your permission, I will turn that document over to a legal friend of +mine. He will put it in an envelope and seal it up. He will write on the +outside, 'To be delivered only to Miss Putnam, on the written order of +Miss Alice Pettengill,' and it will repose quietly in his big safe until +Miss Putnam is found." + +"That will do splendidly!" said Alice, with animation. "What magicians +you lawyers are! You discover a way out of every difficulty." + +"Wait until you get one of those lawyers working against you," remarked +Uncle Ike, "then you'll change your mind. Well, I s'pose now this +matter's settled, I can go upstairs and have my morning smoke." + +"And I've got to go to the store," said Ezekiel to Uncle Ike, "and get +some corn, or those chickens of your'n will swaller the hen coop." And +both men left the room together. + +"If you can give me a little of your time, Miss Pettengill," said +Quincy, "I have some news for you that I think will please you very +much." + +"About my stories?" cried Alice. + +"Yes," replied Quincy. "Just before I went to Boston last Saturday I got +a letter from Leopold, asking me to call on him as soon as convenient. I +found him at home Sunday evening, and this is what he said. The New York +house has accepted your series of eight detective stories, and will pay +you twenty-five dollars for each of them. The house will send you a +check from time to time, as they publish them. Leopold has accepted your +long story for the magazine published by the house for which he is +reader. He says Jameson will get your other story into one of the Sunday +papers, and he will have his dramatic version ready for production next +fall. He can't tell how much you will make out of these just yet; the +magazine pays by the page and the newspaper by the column, and, of +course, Jameson will give you part of his royalty, if he gets the play +on." + +"Why, Mr. Sawyer, you are showering wealth upon me like another Count of +Monte Cristo." + +"But you have not heard all," continued Quincy. "Leopold has placed your +two songs with a music publishing house, and you will get a royalty on +them in time. He says they don't pay any royalty on the first three +hundred copies, and perhaps they won't sell; the public taste on sheet +music is very fickle. Then, that composer, I can never remember his +name, is at work on your poem, 'The Lord of the Sea.' He told Leopold he +was going to make it his _opus vitae_, the work of his life, you know, +and he is talking it up to the director of the Handel and Haydn +Society." + +"How true it is," said Alice, "that gladness quickly follows sadness! I +was so unhappy this morning", but now the world never looked so bright +to me. You have brushed away all my sorrows, Mr. Sawyer, and I am really +very happy to hear the good news that you have told me." + +"There is one sorrow that I have not yet relieved you of," continued +Quincy. + +"And that?" asked Alice, brushing back the wavy golden hair from her +forehead, and looking up at him with her bright blue eyes, which bore no +outward sign of the dark cloud that dimmed their vision,--"and that +is?"--she repeated. + +"That letter," taking the hand that held it in both of his own. "If I am +to get that noon train I have no time to lose." + +"Before you take it," said Alice, "you must promise me that it shall not +be opened, and no eye but Lindy's must ever rest upon it." + +"You have my word," he replied. + +"Then take it," said she; and she released her hold upon it. + +He took the letter with one hand, his other hand still retaining its +grasp upon hers. + +"I go," said Quincy, assuming a bantering tone, "upon your quest, fair +lady. If I return victorious, what shall be my reward?" + +"Gallant knights," said Alice, as she withdrew her hand from his, "do +not bargain for their reward until they have fulfilled their trust." + +"I accept the reproof," said Quincy gravely. + +"It was not so intended, Sir Knight," responded Alice brightly; "so I +will make amends by answering your query. If you return successful, tell +me what you would prize the most, and even if it be half my kingdom, it +shall be yours." + +"I am content, but modern locomotives do not wait even for gallant +knights of old. So adieu." + +He quitted the room, and Alice stood where he had left her until she +heard the rumble of wheels as he drove off for the station; then she +found her way to her chair before the fire, and her mind wove the +outline of a romantic story, in which there was a gallant knight and a +lovely maiden. But in her story the prize that the knight asked when he +returned successful from his quest was the heart and hand of the lovely +maiden. + +Jim Cobb went over to Eastborough Centre, so as to drive the team back. +Before going to the station, Quincy stepped into the post office and +found a letter addressed to him in a peculiar, but familiar, +handwriting. + +"From Aunt Ella," he said. "I will read it after I get on the train." + +Quincy's Aunt Ella was Mrs. Robert Chessman, his mother's widowed +sister. + +As soon as the train started Quincy opened his letter. It was short and +to the point. + +"My DEAR QUINCY:--Maude gave me your address. +What are you doing in a miserable, little country town in +the winter? They are bad enough in the summer, but in +March!--'Bah! Come and see me at once, you naughty +boy! AUNT ELLA." + +"Dated yesterday," said Quincy; "how fortunate. I will go up to Mt. +Vernon Street to-morrow noon and take lunch with her." + +When Quincy reached Boston he went directly to his father's office. The +Hon. Mr. Sawyer was not present, but his partners, Mr. Franklin +Crowninshield and Mr. Atherton Lawrence, were busily engaged. Quincy +took a seat at the desk which, he had occupied before going to +Eastborough, and wrote out his advertisement for the New York "Herald." +It read as follows: "Linda. Important paper discovered; communicate at +once with Q.A.S., Eastborough." + +He enclosed a check to cover a fortnight's insertion; then walked down +State Street to the post office to mail his letter. When he returned, +Mr. Lawrence informed him that his father was in his private office. His +father greeted him pleasantly, but not effusively; in fact, any marked +exhibition of approval or disapproval was foreign to the Sawyer +character, while the Quincys were equally notable for their reticence +and imperturbability. + +"When shall we have the pleasure of your continued presence at home?" +asked the father. + +"To-night," replied Quincy, with a smile, "I shall be with you at +dinner, stay all night, and take breakfast with you." + +"I trust your long visit will not oblige you to neglect other more +important matters," said the father. + +"Oh, no!" answered Quincy. "I have looked out for that." + +"And when do you think your health will allow you to resume your +position in the office?" inquired the Hon. Nathaniel. + +"That is very uncertain," replied Quincy. + +"If you do not intend to come back at all," continued the father, "that +would simplify matters. I could then make room for a Harvard graduate to +study with us." + +Quincy reflected. He had been taught by his father not to give a +positive answer to any question on the spur of the moment, if more time +could be taken, as well as not, for consideration. So, after a few +moments of thought, Quincy said, "I will write you in the course of ten +days or a fortnight, and give you a positive answer." + +"That will be entirely satisfactory," answered his father. "As you are +going out, will you kindly tell Mr. Crowninshield that I wish to consult +with him?" + +Quincy knew that the interview had expired by limitation. He went home, +but found that his mother and sisters were out riding. + +"They will return in time for dinner," said Delia, the parlor maid. + +Quincy went into the parlor and opened the grand piano. He sat down +before it, touched a few of the keys casually, then sang, with great +expression, the song by J.R. Thomas entitled "Pleasant Memories." He +next wandered into the library, and took down and glanced at several +books that he had devoured with avidity when a boy of sixteen. Then he +went upstairs to his own room, which he had occupied since he was eight +years old. It looked familiar, everything was in its accustomed place; +still, the room did not look homelike. Strange as it may seem, Quincy +had been happier in the large west chamber, with its old-fashioned +bureau and carpet and bed, than he had ever been in this handsomely +furnished apartment in the Beacon Street mansion. There was no wide +fireplace here, with ruddy embers, into whose burning face he could look +and weave fanciful dreams of the fortune and happiness to be his in the +future. + +He spent a pleasant evening with the family. His father was present, but +passed the time in reading the newspapers and a legal brief that he +wished to more closely examine. His mother was engrossed in a new novel, +but no approving smile or sympathetic tear demonstrated any particular +interest in the fates of the struggling hero or suffering heroine. + +Florence sat at the piano, and, in response to Quincy's request that she +would give him some music, played over some chromatic scales and +arpeggios. He declared that they reminded him of grand opera, which +remark sent Maude into a fit of satirical laughter, and Florence up to +her room in a pout. + +Then Maude fell to asking Quincy questions about himself, to which he +returned evasive and untruthful answers, until she was, as she said, +completely disgusted. Then she dropped her head upon his shoulder, and +with the arms of the brother whom she dearly loved clasped around her, +she went to sleep. He looked at the sweet girlish face and thought, not +of her, but of Alice. + +Next morning he was up early, for he knew that a busy day was before +him. The last thing before retiring, and the first thing upon getting +up, he examined his inside vest pocket, to see if that precious letter, +that priceless trust that he had given his knightly word to deliver, was +safe. + +He breakfasted early, and eight o'clock found him in Bowdoin Square, at +the corner of Green and Chardon Streets. His first visit was to a safe +manufactory, a few doors from the corner, where he purchased one for the +firm of Strout & Maxwell. + +After traversing both sides of Friend Street, he finally settled upon +two horses, stout country roadsters, and left an order for their +shipment to Eastborough Centre, when they were notified that the wagons +were ready. He bought the wagons in Sudbury Street. They had red bodies +and yellow wheels, and the words, "Strout & Maxwell, Mason's Corner, +Mass.," were to be placed on them in gold letters. + +These tasks completed, Quincy walked up Tremont Row by Scollay's +Building. Crossing Pemberton Square, he continued up Tremont Street +until he came to the building in which was the law office of Curtis +Carter, one of his law school chums. + +"Hello, Curt!" said he, as he entered the somewhat dingy office. + +"Well, 'pon honor, Quincy," cried Curtis, "the sight of you is good for +sore eyes, and I've got such a beastly cold that I can't see with one +eye and can't read with the other." + +"Well," said Quincy, "I came in here intending to consult you +professionally, but I don't think a blind lawyer will answer my +purpose." + +"Oh, I shall be all right in a few minutes," replied Curtis. "I dropped +into Young's as I came up and took an eye-opener. What's the matter, old +fellow, breach of promise?" + +Quincy took a seat near Curtis's desk. + +"No," said he, "it's a case of animosity carried beyond the grave." + +"Oh! I see," said Curtis, "party cut off with a shilling, going to try +and break the will?" + +"Have a cigar?" asked Quincy. "While you are lighting it and getting it +under way I may slide in and get a chance to state my business." + +"Oh! you want to do the talking?" said Curtis good humoredly. "Well, go +ahead, old man;" and he leaned back and smoked complacently. + +Quincy then related as much as he thought necessary of the story of the +sealed letter, and as he concluded he took the package from his pocket +and placed it on the corner of the lawyer's desk. + +"You are doing just right," said Curtis; "the probate judges nowadays +are looking more carefully at wills, especially when their provisions +indicate that the signer was more red Indian than white Christian. I +understand you perfectly," he continued; "what you wish me to do is to +put this letter in an envelope, seal it securely, and endorse upon it +these words, 'To be delivered only to Miss Lindy Putnam upon the written +order of Miss Alice Pettengill.'" + +"That's it exactly," said Quincy; "only I wish a receipt from you for +the document." + +"Certainly," replied Curtis. As he raised the lid of his old-fashioned +desk the letter fell to the floor. The envelope had received rough +treatment in its progress from hand to hand, and it was not strange that +when it struck the floor one corner was split open by the fall. + +As Quincy stooped to pick it up, he noticed that something that +resembled a small piece of white cloth dropped from the broken corner of +the envelope. When he picked it up to replace it, he saw that it was a +small piece of white cotton cloth, and his quick eye caught the name +"Linda Fernborough" stamped thereon with indelible ink. He said nothing, +but replacing the piece of cloth passed the package to Curtis, who +enclosed, sealed, and endorsed it, and gave a receipt therefor to +Quincy. + +"I will put this in my big steel vault," said he, as he went into +another room. + +Quincy knew that Curtis would accept no fee for such a slight service, +so placing a five dollar greenback under a paperweight, he quietly left +the office and was out of sight long before Curtis, with the bill in his +hand, ran down stairs, bareheaded, and looked up and down the street in +search of him. + +Five minutes later Quincy reached his aunt's house. A "Buttons," dressed +in blue livery, opened the door, and Quincy was ushered into the long +parlor, which ran the full depth of the house, some sixty feet, in which +he had passed many pleasant evenings. He sent up his card, and in a few +moments Buttons returned and delivered the speech which Mrs. Chessman +had taught him and which he had learned by heart: "Mrs. Chessman desires +that you will come up at once." + +Quincy bounded upstairs, to the evident astonishment of Buttons, and +made his way to the front chamber, which he knew was his aunt's room. +She loved the sunlight, and it was a constant visitor in that room, +summer and winter. His aunt did not greet him with a "how do you do?" +and a hand-shake. Instead of such a formal reception, she gave him a +hearty hug and kissed him three times, once on the forehead, then on +the cheek, and finally on the lips, in which latter osculation Quincy +took part. + +His aunt led him to an easy-chair, then threw herself upon a lounge +opposite to him. She eyed him attentively for a moment. + +"Quincy," said she, "you are better looking than ever; you're almost as +good looking as Robert was, and he was the handsomest man I ever saw. +How many different country girls have you kissed since you saw me last?" + +"I kept the count," said Quincy, "till I went to a surprise party a week +ago Monday, and then I lost it." + +"Of all the kisses that you have had, whose do you prize the most?" + +"Those from my beloved Aunt Ella," replied Quincy. + +Aunt Ella smiled and said, "You know how to keep on the right side of an +old woman who has got money." + +"I didn't think of that until you called my attention to it," said +Quincy gravely. + +"And I didn't believe it when I said it," added Aunt Ella. A few moments +later she rang and ordered a light lunch. When this was over she went to +an old secretary with brass handles, opened a drawer, and took out a +cigar box. + +"I have a few of Robert's cigars left," she said. + +Quincy took one and resumed his seat in the easy-chair. + +Aunt Ella opened another drawer in the secretary and took out a pouch of +tobacco, a package of rice paper and a box of wax tapers. She put these +articles on a small diamond-shaped table and placed the table between +Quincy and herself. She handed Quincy the match-box, then deftly rolling +a cigarette, she lighted it, leaned back upon the lounge and blew rings +of smoke into the air, which she watched until they broke. + +"Do you think it's horribly unbecoming for me to smoke?" she asked, +looking at Quincy. + +"Do you wish me to express my real thoughts?" replied Quincy, "or +flatter you because you have money?" + +Aunt Ella reddened a little, then said, "A good shot, Quincy, but I +deserve it. Go on." + +"Well, Aunt Ella," said he, "you are the only woman whom I ever saw +smoke who, in my opinion, knew how to do it gracefully." + +"I think you are sincere," she rejoined, "and I beg pardon for wounding +your feelings as I did before. Give me your hand on it." + +They shook hands as two men would have done after settling differences. + +Then she said, "Now draw your chair up closer, Quincy, and tell me what +you've been doing, and what other people have been doing to you since +the day before Christmas, the last time I set eyes on you until to-day. +You know I am your mother confessor." + +Quincy complied, and in his quiet, concise way gave her a full account +of his doings in Eastborough, omitting nothing, concealing nothing. If +anything, he gave fuller details of his acquaintance with Huldy, Lindy, +and Alice than he did of the other portions of his story. He could not +forbear to give at full length the account of his final settlement with +the Professor. + +Aunt Ella laughed heartily at some parts of the recital, and looked +sorrowful and sympathetic when she listened to other portions. She +rolled and smoked half a dozen cigarettes during its continuance, and +when she saw that Quincy had finished his cigar she placed the remainder +of the box before him. + +When he closed she said, "Quincy, you're a brick. I haven't enjoyed +myself so much for years. I do so love anything that isn't commonplace, +and your experience is both novel and interesting. What a dear old man +Deacon Mason is, and Ezekiel Pettengill is a fine young fellow, honest +and square. That Hiram and Mandy must be a team. Are they going to get +married?" + +"I think so," said Quincy. "He stammers, you know, and I think he is +afraid he will break down when he tries to propose." + +Aunt Ella laughed heartily; then she said, "What a constitutional liar +that Stiles must be, and as for the Professor, I would like to have a +set-to with him myself." + +As she said this she doubled up her fists. + +"Oh, he wouldn't meet you that way," said Quincy. "He only fights with a +woman's weapon, his tongue;" and he told her of his little boxing match +with Robert Wood. + +Aunt Ella continued: "I can imagine what a pretty, sweet, little country +girl Huldy Mason is. My heart aches for Lindy, her martyrdom has been +out of all proportion to her contemplated wrongdoing, if wrongdoing it +really was. Had I been in her place I would have married Jones and left +my clothes behind; and then," said Aunt Ella, "how my heart goes out to +that dear, sweet girl that you call Alice! Do you love her, Quincy?" + +"Devotedly," answered Quincy, "I never really loved a woman before." + +"Then marry her," cried Aunt Ella decidedly. + +"Everybody at home but Maude will object," said Quincy. + +"Maude's the best one in the family, next to yourself," snapped Aunt +Ella. + +"They will bring up Uncle Jim," continued Quincy. + +"Nonsense!" replied Aunt Ella. "Uncle Jim was a fool; any man is a fool +who thinks he can win the battle of life by making a sot of himself. +Bring this girl to me, Quincy. She must be a genius, if she can write as +you say she can. Let me care for her and love her and make life pleasant +and beautiful for her until you get ready to do it yourself." + +"I will, some day, Aunt Ella. You are the best friend I have in the +world, and when I have the right to bring Alice to you, I will lose no +time in doing so. Thank you for your kind words about her. I shall never +forget them, and she shall hear them some day. But I must go now." + +They both arose, "Promise that you will come and see me every time you +are in Boston, Quincy; if you don't, I shall come down to Eastborough to +see you." + +She gave him another kiss at parting. + +As he left the house he deliberated for a moment as to where he should +go next. It was half-past four. He decided to go to Leopold's lodgings +in Chestnut Street. He found him at home, but for a wonder he was not +working. + +"This is an off day with me," he explained; "this is our haying season, +and I've been working nights, days, and Sundays for a fortnight." + +"I came to express Miss Pettengill's obligations and thanks for your +kind and very successful efforts in her behalf." + +"Oh! that's all right," said Leopold. "By the way, have you told her she +ought to write a book?" + +"Not yet," said Quincy; "but I'm going to soon. She has just lost a dear +friend; but I won't forget it." + +"Don't!" repeated Leopold. "She is a diamond that ought to be dug up, +cut, and set in eighteen carat gold. Excuse my apparently brutal +language, but you get my meaning." + +"Certainly," said Quincy; "and you are not working to-day." + +"No," replied Leopold; "loafing and enjoying it, too. I've a good mind +to turn vagrant and loaf on, loaf ever." + +"Come down to Parker's and have dinner with me." + +"Can't do it," replied Leopold; "my stomach is loafing, too. 'Twouldn't +be fair to make it work and do nothing myself. Just as much obliged. +Some other day. Don't forget the book," he cried, as Quincy left the +room. + +Quincy took his dinner at Parker's, caught the five minutes past six +express, and reached Eastborough Centre at half-past seven. Abbott Smith +drove him home to the Pettengill house. + +The next day was Friday. Everybody at Mason's Corner, with quite a +number from Eastborough and Montrose, came to Mrs. Putnam's funeral. The +little Square in front of the church, as well as the shed, was filled +with teams. While waiting for the arrival of the body, quite a number of +the male residents of Mason's Corner were gathered upon the steps of the +church. + +Strout spied Abner Stiles and approached him. "Bob Wood has jest told +me," said the Professor, "that he has decided not to leave his present +place, so I've concluded on second thoughts to give yer that job at the +grocery store." + +Abner's eyes twinkled. + +"I've had my second thoughts, too," said he, "I've hired out to Deacon +Mason for life, and if I jine the church he says I can work for him in +the next world. So I kinder guess I shall have to decline yer kind +invitation to lift boxes and roll barrels." + +When the services were over every person in the church passed up the +centre aisle to take a last view. Her husband had been buried in the +Montrose cemetery, and she had told Mr. Tilton that she was to be laid +by his side. The Eastborough cemetery was in West Eastborough, and for +that reason many of the late residents of Mason's Corner slept their +last sleep at Montrose. + +As they stood by the coffin, Alice said, "How does she look?" + +"Very pleasant," replied Quincy; "there is a sweet smile upon her face." + +"I am so glad," said Alice. She pressed his arm a little tighter, and +looking up to him, she said, "Perhaps she has met her boy, and that +smile is but the earthly reflection of the heavenly one that rests upon +her face in her home above." + +"I hope so," replied Quincy; and they walked slowly out of church and +took their places on the rear seat of the Pettengill carryall, Ezekiel +and Uncle Ike sitting in front. + +Mandy Skinner and Mrs. Crowley had not gone to the funeral The latter +was busy skimming cream from a dozen large milk pans, while Mandy sat +before the kitchen stove, with Swiss by her side. She was thinking of +Hiram, and wondering if he really intended to ask her to marry him. + +"I don't think he's been foolin' me, but now he's goin' into business I +should think it was about time for him to speak up or quit." + +Swiss suddenly arose, sniffed and went to the kitchen door. The door was +opened softly and some one entered the room. Mandy did not turn her +head. Perhaps she guessed who it was. Then some one placed a chair close +to Mandy and took a seat beside her. + +"Say, M-m-m-m-m-a-andy," said Hiram, "will you please read this to me? +It's an important document, and I want to be sure I've got it jest +right." As he said this he passed Mandy a folded paper. + +She opened it and the following words met her eye: "This is to certify +that I, Hiram Maxwell, of Mason's Corner, in the town of Eastborough, +county of Normouth, and Commonwealth of Massachusetts, hereby declare my +intention to ask Miss Amanda Skinner of the village, town, county, and +state aforesaid, to become my lawful wedded wife." + +"Oh, you big silly!" cried Mandy, dropping the paper, for she didn't +think it necessary to read any further. + +"Is it all right?" cried Hiram, "it cost a quarter to git it drawn up. +Then I swore to it before old Squire Rundlett over to Montrose, and it +ought ter hold water. You'd better keep it, Mandy, then I can't fling it +up at yer that I never axed yer to marry me." + +"Who told you that?" asked the girl indignantly. + +"Ma Hawkins. Well, she didn't exactly say it to me, but she spoke it out +so loud to Betsy Green that I heered it clear out in the wood-shed and +I'll tell yer what, Mandy, it kinder made me mad." + +"Well, it's all right now," said Mandy soothingly. + +"Is it?" asked Hiram, his face beaming with delight. + +The next instant there was a succession of peculiar sounds heard in the +room. As Swiss came back from the kitchen door but one chair was needed +for the happy couple, and an onlooker would have thought that chair was +occupied by one person with a very large head, having light curly hair +on one side and straight dark hair on the other, no face being visible. + +It was upon this picture that Mrs. Crowley looked as she opened the door +leading into the kitchen and started to come into the room with a large +pan full of cream. + +Astonished, she stepped backward, forgetting the two steps that she had +just ascended. Flat upon her back she fell, the pan of cream drenching +her from head to foot. + +"It's drownded I am! It's drownded I am!" she cried at the top of her +voice. + +"What's the matter? How did it happen?" said Mandy, as she rushed into +the room, followed by Swiss. + +"Shure it's thinkin' I was," moaned Mrs. Crowley, "when the milk fell on +me." + +"Thinkin' of what?" cried Mandy sharply. "You couldn't have been +thinkin' of your business." + +"Shure I was thinkin' of the day when Pat Crowley and I both sat in the +same chair, forty years ago," said Mrs. Crowley, rising to her feet and +wiping the cream from her eyes, and nose, and ears. + +During this time Swiss was busily engaged having a rich feast upon the +cream left in the pan. Hiram appeared at the kitchen door to learn the +cause of Mandy's absence. + +Raising her hands high in the air, Mrs. Crowley said, "Bless you, my +darlints; may yer live long and may all the saints pour blessin's on yer +hids." + +And with this invocation the poor old woman hobbled off to her room in +the ell and was not seen again until the next morning. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIII. + +THE WEDDIN'S. + + +The next day was Saturday. While the Pettengill family was at breakfast, +Squire Rundlett arrived. He had driven over from Montrose with the +partnership papers for Strout, Hiram, and Quincy to sign and also the +will of the late Mrs. Hepsibeth Putnam. + +As he came into the kitchen he espied Mandy, and a broad smile spread +over his face as he said, "Good morning, Miss Skinner, was that paper +all right?" Mandy flushed scarlet but said nothing. "Honestly, Miss +Skinner," said the Squire, "I think it was a very sensible act on +Hiram's part. If men were obliged to put their proposals in writing +there wouldn't be any more breach of promise cases." + +"I think he was a big goose," finally ejaculated Mandy, laughing in +spite of herself. + +"At any rate," continued the Squire, "he knew how to pick out a smart, +pretty little woman for a wife;" and he raised his hat politely and +passed into the dining-room. + +Here he was asked to have some breakfast. He accepted a cup of coffee, +and, while drinking it, informed Quincy and Alice of the twofold purpose +of his visit. + +Quincy led Alice into the parlor, the Squire accompanying them. Quincy +then retired, saying he would join the Squire in a short time and ride +up to the store with him. + +When they were alone, the Squire informed Alice that by the terms of +Mrs. Putnam's last will she had been left sole heiress of all the real +and personal property of the deceased. The dwelling house and farm were +worth fully ten thousand dollars, while the bonds, stocks, and other +securities, of which he had had charge for many years, were worth at +least forty thousand more. For several years Mrs. Putnam's income had +been about twenty-five hundred dollars a year. + +"It was very kind of her to leave it to me," said Alice; "I have never +done anything to deserve it and I would not take it were it not that I +understand there are no near relatives, and that Miss Lindy Putnam was +amply provided for by her brother." + +There was a knock upon the door, and Quincy looked in. + +"Come in, Mr. Sawyer," said the Squire. "I have an important bit of news +for you that concerns this young lady." + +Quincy did as requested and stood expectantly. + +The Squire went on: "Mrs. Putnam's old will, made some six years ago, +gave all the property to Miss Pettengill, but provided that its +provisions should be kept secret for ninety days. In that will I was +named as sole executor." + +"Why did she change it?" asked Alice earnestly. + +"I don't know," replied the Squire. "About three weeks ago she sent for +me and cut out the ninety-day restriction and named our young friend +here as co-executor with myself." + +Alice remained silent, while a look of astonishment crept into Quincy's +face. + +"I do not quite comprehend her reason for making this change," remarked +Quincy. + +"Mrs. Putnam was a very far-seeing lady," said the Squire, with a laugh, +looking first at Alice and then at Quincy. + +A slight flush mounted to Alice's cheeks, and Quincy said coolly, "I do +not perceive the application of your remark." + +"Easy enough," said the Squire, seeing that he had put his foot in it, +and that it was necessary to explain his false step in some way; "easy +enough. I have had sole charge of her property for six years, and she +wished some cool-headed business man to go over my accounts and see if I +had been honest in my dealings with her." + +"That way of stating the case is satisfactory," said Quincy, a little +more genially. + +"I don't think I am in danger of being robbed with two such trusty +guardians," said Alice. + +Then all three laughed, and the little rift was closed. But the Squire's +words had not been unheeded and two hearts were busily thinking and +wondering if he had really meant what he said. + +The Squire then turned to Quincy. "If you will name a day we will go +over to the county town, present the will for probate, and at any time +thereafter my books will be ready for inspection." + +Quincy named the following Wednesday, and then both men congratulated +Miss Pettengill on her good fortune, bade her good morning, and then +started to go to the store. + +As they passed through the kitchen Mandy was not in sight. She evidently +did not intend to have a second interview with the Squire. + +When they reached the store they found Strout and Hiram and Mr. Hill and +his son already there. The business with Mr. Hill was soon concluded, +and he delivered the keys of the property to Squire Rundlett; then the +co-partnership papers were duly signed and witnessed, and then the +Squire passed the keys to Mr. Obadiah Strout, the senior partner of the +new firm of Strout & Maxwell, who formally took possession of the +property in his own name and that of his partners. + +Since Abner's curt declination of a position in the store, Strout had +been looking around for some one to take his place, and had finally +settled upon William Ricker, or, as he was generally called, Billy +Ricker, a popular young resident of Montrose, as it was thought he could +control a great deal of trade in that town. + +For a similar reason, Quincy and Hiram had united in choosing young +Abbott Smith, who was known by everybody in Eastborough Centre and West +Eastborough. Abbott had grown tired of driving the hotel carriage and +wished to engage in some permanent business. + +The choice was naturally not particularly palatable to Strout, but he +had consented to let bygones be bygones and could offer no valid +objection. These two young men were to report for duty that Saturday +evening, and the close of that day's business terminated Benoni and +Samuel Hill's connection with the grocery store. + +Sunday morning all of the Pettengill family went to church and listened +to a sermon by Mr. Howe, the minister, from the text, "Blessed are the +peacemakers, for they shall inherit the kingdom of Heaven." + +As they were driving home, Uncle Ike remarked in his dry, sarcastic way, +"I s'pose Mr. Howe was thinkin' of Mrs. Putnam when he was praisin' the +peacemakers; it's a fashion in the country, I understand, the Sunday +after a funeral to preach in a general way about the departed one." + +"Mrs. Putnam has been very kind to me," protested Alice, "and you should +forgive her for my sake." + +"I'll forgive her," said Uncle Ike, "when the wrong she has done has +been righted." He shut his teeth together sharply, faced the horses +again, and lapsed into silence. + +In the afternoon Quincy joined Alice in the parlor, and they sang some +sacred music together. + +Quincy picked up a book from the table and said, "Why, Miss Pettengill, +by this turned down corner I imagine there are some thirty pages of this +very interesting story, 'The Love of a Lifetime,' that I have not read +to you. Would you like to have me finish it this afternoon?" + +"I have been afraid to hear the last chapter," said Alice. "I fear +Herbert and Clarice will both die, and I so hate a book with a sad +ending. Why don't authors keep their lovers alive--" + +"Marry them off and let them live happily ever afterward," Quincy +concluded. + +"I don't think I could ever write a book with a sorrowful conclusion," +mused Alice. + +Quincy saw the opportunity for which he had long waited. + +"Why don't you write a book?" asked he earnestly. "My friend Leopold +says you ought to; he further said that you were a genius, and if I +remember him correctly, compared you to a diamond--" + +"In the rough," added Alice quickly. + +"That's it," said Quincy; "but Leopold added that rough diamonds should +be dug up, cut, and set in a manner worthy of their value." + +"I am afraid Mr. Ernst greatly overrates my abilities and my worth," +said she, a little constrainedly. "But how unkind and ungrateful I am to +you and Mr. Ernst, who have been so kind and have done so much for me. I +will promise this much," she continued graciously. "I will think it +over, and if my heart does not fail me, I will try." + +"I hope your conclusion will be favorable," remarked Quincy. "In a short +time you will be financially independent and freed from any necessity of +returning to your former vocation. I never knew of an author so +completely successful at the start, and I think you have every +encouragement to make literature your 'love of a lifetime.'" + +"I will try to think so too," replied Alice softly. + +Then he took up the book and finished reading it. When he had closed, +neither he nor she were thinking of that future world in which Herbert +and Clarice had sealed those vows which they had kept so steadfastly and +truly during life, but of the present world, bright with promise for +each of them, in which there was but one shade of sorrow--that filmy web +that shut out the beauties of nature from the sight of that most +beautiful of God's creations, a lovely woman. + +Monday morning Quincy made another trip to Boston. He had obtained the +measurements for a large sign, upon which, on a blue ground, the words +"Strout & Maxwell" were to appear in large gold letters. He paid another +visit to the carriage factory, and ordered two leather covered wagon +tops, to be used in stormy weather, and picked out two sets of harness +resplendent with brass buckles and bosses and having "S. & M." in brass +letters on the blinders. + +He reached Aunt Ella's in time for lunch. He told her of the approaching +wedding of Ezekiel and Huldy; then, leaning over, he whispered something +in her ear, which made her face beam with delight. + +"What a joke it will be," cried she, "and how the country folks will +enjoy it. Can't I come down to the wedding, Quincy, and bring my landau, +my double span of cream-colored horses, and my driver and footman in the +Chessman livery? I'll take you and your lady love to the church." + +"Why, certainly," said Quincy. "I'll ask Miss Mason to send you an +invitation." + +"Let me do something to help," begged the impetuous but good-hearted +Aunt Ella. "Bring the girls up some morning early. We will go shopping, +then we'll lunch here. We will have to go without our wine and cigars +that day, you know, and then we'll go to the modiste's and the +milliner's in the afternoon. We'll make a day of it, young man." + +Quincy leaned back in his easy-chair and blew a ring of blue smoke from +one of Uncle Robert's cigars. + +"Excuse me, Aunt Ella," said he, "but do you ever intend to get married +again?" + +"Quincy Adams Sawyer!" cried Aunt Ella, with an astonished look on her +face, "are you joking?" + +"Certainly not," replied Quincy. "My question was intended to be a +serious and respectful inquiry. You are only forty, fine looking, well +educated, well connected and wealthy. Why should you not?" + +"I will answer you seriously then, Quincy. I could not marry again. Ten +years' life with Robert Chessman was a greater pleasure than a lifetime +with an ordinary man. I was twenty-five when I married him; we lived +together ten years; he has been dead for five. How often I have wished +that Robert had lived to enjoy his fortune with me. + +"But he was satisfied," she continued. "'Better be a success at the +end,' he used to say, 'than be a success in middle life and fall from +your greatness. Look at Wolsey, look at Richelieu, look at Napoleon +Bonaparte.' He would often remark: 'Earth has no sadder picture than a +broken idol.' He used to consider Abraham Lincoln the most successful +man that ever lived, for he died before making a mistake, and when he +was strongest in the hearts of the people. + +"Your question reminds me," continued Aunt Ella, "of something I had in +mind to say to you at some future day, but I may as well say it now. How +much money have you, Quincy, and what is your income?" + +"Father gave me fifty thousand dollars outright when I was twenty-one; +it pays on an average six per cent. Besides this he allows me two +thousand a year for supposed professional services rendered in his law +office." + +"That makes five thousand a year," said Aunt Ella quickly. "Well, I'll +allow you five thousand more a year, and the day you are married I'll +give you as much outright as your father did. That's unconditional. Now, +conditionally, if you bring your wife here and live with me you shall +have rooms and board free, and I'll leave you every dollar I possess +when I'm through with it. Don't argue with me now," she continued, as +Quincy essayed to speak. "Think it over, tell her about it. You will do +as you please, of course, but I shall not change my mind on this point." + +"Didn't your husband leave any relatives that might turn up and prevent +any such disposition of your property?" + +"When we married, Robert said he was alone in the world," replied Aunt +Ella; "he had no sisters, and only one brother, named Charles. Charles +was an artist; he went to Paris to study about thirty-five years ago. +From there he went to London. Some thirty years ago Robert got a letter +from him in which he said he was going to return to America. Robert +waited, but he did not come; then he wrote again to his English address, +but the letter was returned with the words 'Gone to America' endorsed +thereon." + +"Was he married?" inquired Quincy. + +"Robert never knew," said Aunt Ella, "but he imagined not, as Charlie, +as he called him, never spoke in his letters of being in love, much less +of being married." + +Quincy caught the three o'clock train to Eastborough Centre, and Ellis +Smith, another son of 'Bias Smith, who had taken the hotel carriage in +place of his brother Abbott, drove him home. + +A few days thereafter invitations to the wedding of Ezekiel Pettengill +and Hulda Ann Mason were sent broadcast through Eastborough Centre, West +Eastborough, Mason's Corner, and Montrose. Then it was decided by the +gossips that Ezekiel was going to have Mr. Sawyer and Hiram Maxwell and +Sam Hill to stand up with him, while Huldy Ann was going to have Alice +Pettengill, Mandy Skinner, and Tilly James as bridesmaids. + +The whole town turned out when the two gaudy wagons, with their handsome +horses and fine harness reached Eastborough Centre, and a number of +Centre folks followed the unique procession over to Mason's Corner. One +of the wagons contained the new sign, which was soon put in place, and +was a source of undisguised admiration for a long time. + +On the tenth of April, Strout & Maxwell's two heavy teams went over to +Eastborough Centre and returned about noon heavily loaded, followed by +three other teams from the Centre equally well filled. Then Mr. Obadiah +Strout could contain himself no longer. He let the cat out of the bag, +and the news spread like wildfire over the village, and was soon carried +to Eastborough Centre and to Montrose. The Mason's Corner church was to +have a new organ, a present from Mr. Sawyer, and Professor Obadiah +Strout had been engaged to officiate for one year. + +The nineteenth of April was fixed for Huldy's wedding day. The hour was +ten in the morning. As early as eight o'clock teams began to arrive from +north, east, south, and west. Enough invitations had been issued to fill +the church, and by half-past nine every seat was taken. + +The little church was profusely decorated with vines, ferns and potted +plants, while a wealth of cut flowers adorned the altar, the front of +the new organ, which rose towering to the very top of the church, and +the pews reserved for the bridal party. + +Outside the edifice hundreds of sightseers, not honored with +invitations, lined both sides of the spacious Square in front of the +church, and occupied positions of vantage on the steps. + +It lacked but ten minutes of ten. The sexton rung a merry peal from the +sweet-toned bell, which was the pride of the inhabitants of Mason's +Corner. Within the church the ushers, having attended to the seating of +the audience, stood just within the door awaiting the arrival of the +bride and groom. They were in dress suits, with white gloves, and each +had a white rose in his butonhole. Robert Wood and Cobb's twins had been +assigned to the right of the centre aisle, while Abbott Smith, Benjamin +Bates, and Emmanuel Howe had charge of the left side of the edifice. If +any noticed the absence of Samuel Hill and Hiram Maxwell, it did not +provoke general remark, although Mrs. Hawkins asked Jonas if he'd seen +Mandy anywhere, and Tilly James's school chum, Eliza Allen, managed to +occupy two seats, so as to have one for Tilly when she came. + +At exactly five minutes of ten, Professor Strout emerged from the rear +of the platform and proceeded towards the new organ. He, like the +ushers, was in a dress suit, with a white rose in the lapel of his coat. +He was greeted with applause and bowed his acknowledgements. He took his +seat at the organ and played a soft prelude, during which the Rev. Caleb +Howe entered and advanced to the altar. + +Then loud cheers were heard from the assembled crowd outside. The organ +stopped and the sexton again filled the air with merry peals. The sight +outside was one which those inside could not see, and therefore could +not appreciate. What was that coming up the road? Mason's Corner had +never seen an equipage like that before. An open carriage, drawn by four +cream-colored horses, with white manes and tails and silver-tipped +harness. A coachman in livery sat upon the box, while a footman, in +similar livery, rode behind. Following behind this were other carriages, +containing the other members of the bridal party. + +Within the church every eye was turned upon the door through which the +party was to come. Professor Strout's sharp eye saw the first couple as +they reached the entrance, and the strains of Mendelssohn's Wedding +March, that have preceded so many happy bridals, sounded through the +church. The party included Ezekiel and Huldy, Deacon Mason and wife, Mr. +Sawyer and Miss Alice Pettengill, and a handsome, richly dressed lady +unknown to any of the villagers, who was escorted by Mr. Isaac +Pettengill. + +Ezekiel and Huldy advanced and took their positions before the minister, +while the remainder of the party took seats in one of the bridal pews. + +When the ceremony was over the audience naturally expected that the +wedded couple would leave the church by the right-hand aisle, on both +sides of which, from end to end, white silk ribbons had been drawn to +keep the passage clear. + +But no! Shouts and cheers were again heard from outside the church, +again the church bell rang out, and once more the melody of the Wedding +March fell upon the ears of the Professor's auditors, while to their +astonishment Ezekiel and his wife seated themselves quietly in the front +bridal pew. Again every eye was turned, every neck was craned, and +Samuel Hill and Tilly James walked down the centre aisle and took their +places before the clergyman. Again the solemn words were spoken, and +this time the spectators felt sure that the double couple would leave +the church by the silken pathway. + +But no; again were cheers and shouts from the outside borne to the +excited spectators within. Once more the sexton sent out pleasing tones +from the church bell; once more the Professor evoked those melodious +strains from the sweet-toned organ; and as Samuel Hill and his wife took +their seats in the front pew beside Mr. and Mrs. Ezekiel Pettengill, the +excitement of the audience could no longer be controlled. It overcame +all restraint, and as Hiram Maxwell and Mandy Skinner entered, the +people arose to their feet and cheered loudly, as they would have done +at a political meeting or a circus. + +Again, and for the last time, the Rev. Mr. Howe went through the +time-honored ceremony, and at its close Mr. and Mrs. Ezekiel Pettengill, +Mr. and Mrs. Samuel Hill, and Mr. and Mrs. Hiram Maxwell left the church +by way of the right-hand aisle, preceded by the ushers, who strewed the +aisle with white roses as they advanced, and were followed by the +occupants of the second bridal pew. + +As Quincy rode over to Eastborough Centre with his Aunt Ella, after +partaking of the wedding breakfast, which was served in Deacon Mason's +dining-room, she remarked to him that the events of the day had been +most enjoyable, and that she didn't know, after all, but that she should +change her mind about getting married again. + +When asked by Quincy if she had seen any one whom she thought would +suit her for a second husband, she replied that "Mr. Isaac Pettengill +was a very well-preserved old gentleman, and the most original man in +thought and speech that she had met since Robert died." + +Quincy did not inform her that Uncle Ike had a wife and two grown-up +daughters living, thinking it best to reserve that information for a +future occasion. + +That night Strout & Maxwell's grocery store was the centre of +attraction. Strout was in his glory, and was, of course, in his own +opinion, the most successful feature of that eventful day. It was a very +common thing to get married, but it was a most uncommon thing to play on +a new church organ, and play as well as he had done, "for the first +time, too," as he remarked a score of times. + +Stepping upon a barrel, the Professor called out in a loud voice, +"Order, please," and in a short time the assembled crowd became quiet. + +"Friends and Feller Citizens: I have this day received my commission as +postmaster at Mason's Corner, Mass. Mail matter will be sorted with +celerity and delivered only to the proper parties, while the firm of +Strout & Maxwell will always keep on hand a full assortment of the best +family groceries at reasonable prices. Soliciting your continued +patronage, I remain, yours respectively. + +OBADIAH STROUT, Postmaster. + +As the Professor stepped down from the barrel, Abner Stiles caught him +by the arm and said in a low voice, "Isn't Deacon Mason one of your +bondsmen?" + +"Yes," said Strout, somewhat pompously, "but what of it?" + +"Why, yer see," said Abner, "I'm workin' for the Deacon now, and I'm +just as devoted to his interests as I used to be to yourn onct, and with +a much better hope of reward, both on this earth and in Heaven, and if +he's got money put up on yer, of course yer won't object if I drop in +onct in a while and kinder keep an eye on yer." And with this parting +shot he dashed out a side door and was lost to sight. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIV. + +BLENNERHASSETT. + + +When comparatively great events follow each other in quick succession, +those of minor importance are liable to escape mention. It was for this +reason, probably, that the second visit of Dr. Tillotson was not spoken +of at the time of its occurrence. He examined Alice's eyes and declared +that progress towards recovery was being made, slowly but surely. He +left a bottle of new medicine, and advised Alice, as an aid to recovery, +to take a long walk, or a ride, each pleasant day. This advice he +repeated to Uncle Ike, who was waiting for him outside the front door, +and to Quincy, who brought him from the station and took him back. + +On the day fixed upon, Quincy drove over to Montrose, and accompanied by +Squire Rundlett, went to the county town and presented Mrs. Putnam's +will for probate. In due time the will was admitted, the executors' +bonds were filed and approved, and Quincy, at the age of twenty-three, +found himself one of the financial guardians of the young heiress, Mary +Alice Pettengill, she being his junior by less than two years. + +About ten days after Quincy's interview with his Aunt Ella, in which she +had signified her intention of making him an allowance, he received a +letter from a Boston banking firm, informing him that by direction of +Mrs. Ella Chessman, the sum of five thousand dollars had been placed to +his credit, and that a similar sum would be so placed on the first +business day of January in each succeeding year. A blank card was +enclosed for a copy of his signature, and the statement made that his +drafts would be duly honored. + +When Quincy and his aunt reached Eastborough Centre, after the trio of +weddings, they found that they had a full hour to wait before the +arrival of the next ingoing train. + +This gave plenty of time for the reloading of the horses and carriage on +the special car in which they had been brought from Boston and which had +been side-tracked. + +Quincy wished to accompany his aunt to Boston and escort her to her +home, but she demurred. He insisted, but his aunt replied, "Don't go, +please don't, Quincy; they will take me for your mother, and I really am +not quite old enough for that." + +This argument was unanswerable, and Quincy bade her a laughing good-by +as the train sped on towards Boston, the special car in charge of the +coachman and footman bringing up the rear. + +Thus Aunt Ella's visit to Mason's Corner became an event of the past, +but the memory of it remained green for a long time in the minds of +those who had witnessed her arrival and departure. + +Ellis Smith drove Quincy home to the Pettengill house. It was to be home +no longer, for Hiram and Mandy were to have the room that Quincy had +occupied so long. His trunk and other belongings he had packed up the +night before, and at Quincy's request, Cobb's twins had taken them out +to Jacob's Parlor, where he found them. He knew that Mr. and Mrs. +Hawkins were to spend the afternoon with their daughter and son-in-law. + +Quincy also knew that Uncle Ike and Alice were at Deacon Mason's, where +Ezekiel and Huldy were to remain for the coming week. + +For the first time since he had been at Mason's Corner, Quincy felt +lonesome and deserted. He reflected on his way to Mrs. Hawkins's +boarding house that these weddings were all very nice, to be sure, but +they had deprived him of the society of many good friends, who were now +united by stronger ties than those of simple, everyday friendship. + +He did not care to go to the grocery store, for he felt that the +Professor was entitled to all the credit that he was likely to get for +his day's performance, and he did not wish to detract from it. So he +went directly to his room, and for the first time felt out of sorts with +Eastborough and its people. + +He was not hungry for food, so he did not answer the call to supper, but +sat in the dark and thought. He realized that he was hungry, yes, +desperately hungry, for love--the love of one woman, Alice Pettengill. +Why should he wait longer? Even if his father and mother objected his +Aunt Ella was on his side, and her action had made him independent. He +had felt himself so before, but now there was no doubt of it. + +This determined young man then made up his mind he would declare his +love at the first auspicious moment. Then he would go to his parents and +learn their verdict on his proposed action. Thinking thus he went to +bed, and in his dreams, ushers, and bridesmaids, and cut flowers, and +potted plants, and miles of silken ribbon, and cream-colored horses, and +carriages, and clergymen, and organists, and big pipe organs were +revolving about him and Alice, as the planets revolve about the sun. + +Once more Quincy's breakfast was on the stove being kept warm, and once +more Mrs. Hawkins was waiting impatiently for him to come down. + +Betsy Green and she were washing the breakfast dishes. How happy Eve +must have been in Eden, where there was no china, no knives and forks, +and no pots and kettles, and what an endless burden of commonplace +drudgery she entailed upon her fair sisters when she fell from her high +estate. Man's labor is uniformly productive, but woman's, alas! is still +almost as uniformly simply preservative. + +"Mr. Sawyer," said Mrs. Hawkins to Betsy Green, "is no doubt a very nice +young man, but I shouldn't want him for a steady boarder, 'less he got +up on time and eat his meals reg'lar." + +"I s'pose he's all tired out," remarked Betsy. "He had a pretty hard day +of it yesterday, you know, Mis' Hawkins." + +"Wall, I s'pose I ought to be kinder easy on him on that account. I must +say he managed things fust rate." + +"How did the brides look?" asked Betsy. + +Poor girl, she was one of the few who were not able to view the grand +sight. + +"I can think of no word to express my feelin's," replied Mrs. Hawkins +after a pause, "but splendiferous! Huldy's dress was a white satin that +would a stood alone. She had a overskirt of netted white silk cord, +heavy enough to use for a hammock. You know she's neither light nor +dark, kind of a between, but she looked mighty poorty all the same." + +"Was Tilly James dressed in white, too?" inquired Betsy. + +"No," answered Mrs. Hawkins. "She wore a very light pink silk, with a +lace overskirt, and it just matched her black eyes and black hair fine, +I can tell yer." + +"Mandy must have looked pretty, with her light curly hair and blue eyes, +and those rosy cheeks." + +"Well," said Mrs. Hawkins reflectively, "I'm her mother, and a course +I'm prejoodished, but I honestly think she was the best lookin' one of +the three. Of course Hiram is no beauty, and I'm all out of patience +when he tries to talk to me. But I know he'll make Mandy a good husband, +and that's a tarnal sight better'n good looks." + +"What color was Mandy's dress?" persisted Betsy. + +"Lord a massy," cried Mrs. Hawkins, "I e'en a'most forgot to tell yer. +Her dress was a very light blue silk, with a lace overskirt, 'bout the +same as Tilly's. Mr. Sawyer gave her two hundred dollars to buy her +things with, 'cause she's been so nice to him since he boarded at +Pettengill's." + +"Who was that stylish lookin' lady that came in a carriage with the four +beautiful horses? I saw her outer the attic winder." + +"She was a Mrs. Chessman," replied Mrs. Hawkins. I heern tell she's a +widder'd aunt of Mr. Sawyer's, and she's as rich as Creazers." + +"How rich is that?" inquired Betsey, with an astonished look. + +"Creazers," replied Mrs. Hawkins, with an expression that savored of +erudition, "was a man who was so all fired rich that he had to hire +folks to spend his money for him." + +At that moment a step was heard in the dining-room, and both Mrs. +Hawkins and Betsy flew to wait upon the new-comer who proved to be Mr. +Quincy Adams Sawyer. As he took his seat at the table the Connecticut +clock on the mantelpiece struck ten. + +At eleven o'clock that same morning Mr. Sawyer knocked at the front door +of Mr. Ezekiel Pettengill's residence. How strange it seemed, how much +more homelike it would have been to have entered by the back door and to +have come through the kitchen and dining-room, as of old. But no! He was +not a regular boarder now, only an occasional visitor. + +The door was opened by young Mrs. Maxwell, and her usually rosy cheeks +were ruddier than ever when she saw who the caller was. + +"Is Miss Pettengill in?" Quincy politely inquired. + +"She's in the parlor, sir; won't you walk in?" And she threw open the +door of the room in which Alice sat by the fire. + +"Do I disturb your dreams, Miss Pettengill?" asked Quincy, as he reached +her side. + +"I'm so glad you have come, Mr. Sawyer," said Alice, extending her hand. +"I never was so lonesome in my life as I have been this morning. The +house seems deserted. Uncle Ike ate too many good things yesterday, and +says he is enjoying an attack of indigestion to-day. I had Swiss in here +to keep me company, but he wouldn't stay and Mandy had to let him out." + +"He came up to Mrs. Hawkins's," said Quincy, as he took his accustomed +seat opposite Alice. "He walked down with me, but when he saw me safe on +the front doorstep he disappeared around the corner." + +"I didn't tell him to go after you," said Alice, laughing; "but I am +very glad that you have come. I have a very important matter to consult +you about. You know you are my business man now." + +"I'm always at your service," replied Quincy. "I think I know what you +wish to see me about." + +"And what do you think it is?" asked Alice, shaking her head negatively. + +"Well," said Quincy, "I saw Squire Rundlett the day before the weddings +and he thought that you might possibly want some money. He had a +thousand dollars in cash belonging to you, and I brought you half of it. +If you will kindly sign this receipt," he continued, as he took a small +parcel from his pocket, "you will relieve me of further responsibility +for its safe keeping." + +He moved the little writing table close to her chair, and dipping the +pen in the ink he handed it to her, and indicated with his finger the +place where she should sign. She wrote as well as ever, though she could +see nothing that she penned. + +"There are eight fifty-dollar bills, eight tens and four fives," he +said, as he passed her the money. + +"Which are the fifties?" she asked, as she handled the money nervously +with her fingers. + +"Here they are," said Quincy, and he separated them from the rest of the +bills and placed them in her hands. + +"Oh! thank you," said she. She counted out four of the bills and passed +them to Quincy. "That settles my money debt to you, does it not?" she +inquired; "but nothing can pay the debt of gratitude that I owe you for +your many acts of kindness to me, Mr. Sawyer." + +"I am fully repaid by that very kind speech of yours," replied Quincy. +"But what was the important matter you wished to see me about? I don't +think it was the money." + +"It was not," said Alice. "I have little use for money just at present. +I never had so much before at once in all my life. I shall have to learn +to be an heiress." + +"It's a lesson that is very easily learned," replied Quincy. + +"What I wish to speak about," continued Alice, musingly, "is Mrs. +Putnam's house. I could never live in it. I could never go into that +room again;" and she shuddered. + +"You can sell it," interposed Quincy. + +"No," said Alice earnestly, "I am going to give it away. Father just +made a living here, and Ezekiel can do no better, but with the Putnam +farm, properly stocked, he can in time become a rich man, for he is a +good farmer, and he loves his work. I wish," continued Alice, "to give +'Zekiel and Huldy the farm outright, then I would like to loan him +enough money to buy live stock and machinery and whatever else he may +need, so that he may begin his new life under the most favorable +auspices." + +"I think your proposed action a most commendable one," remarked Quincy. +"I am sure you need anticipate no objections on the part of Squire +Rundlett or myself. Our duties are limited to seeing that all the +property that was willed to you is properly delivered. It gives us no +right to interfere with your wishes or to question your motives. I will +see Squire Rundlett at an early day and have the matter put into shape. +Does Ezekiel know of this?" + +"Not a word," said Alice; "I do not wish to speak to him about it until +the matter is all settled and the papers are signed. He is high +spirited, and at the first mention I know he would refuse my offer, +especially if he thought 'twas only known to us two. But when he learns +that the deed is done, and that the Squire and yourself are knowing to +it, he will be more tractable." + +"Speaking of the Putnam house, or more properly, I suppose, Pettengill +house number two--" + +"This will always be number one," interposed Alice. + +"--reminds me," said Quincy, that my efforts to discover Lindy's +whereabouts have so far proved unavailing. The advertisement that I put +in for a month has run out and I have received no word." + +"Do you think she went to New York, as she promised?" inquired Alice. + +"I do not," replied Quincy. "I think she always had an idea that Mrs. +Putnam had some letter or document in her possession relating to her +parents. I think the poor girl lost hope when she learned that it was +destroyed, and I imagine that she has intentionally hidden herself and +does not wish to be found. I might, after long search, discover her +bankers, but she has probably notified them to keep her address a +secret. I do not like to confess," he continued, "to so abject a +failure, but I really do not know what to do next." + +"We must wait and hope," said Alice. Then looking up at Quincy with an +arch smile upon her face, she added, "I will extend your time, Sir +Knight. Your gallant efforts have so far been unsuccessful, but I shall +pray that you may some day return victorious." + +Quincy replied in the same tone of banter: "Knowing that you, fair lady, +are ever thinking of me, and that my name is ever upon your fair lips in +prayer, will spur me to renewed effort, for surely no cavalier ever had +a more lovely mistress or a greater incentive to knightly action." + +Although he spoke in a chaffing tone, there was an undercurrent of +seriousness in his manner and pathos in his voice that made Alice start +and flush visibly. + +Fearing that he had gone too far he quickly changed the subject by +asking abruptly, "Have you come to any decision about your book?" + +"Yes," replied Alice, "and I am ashamed to say that your friend's +suggestion and your warm endorsement of it have so increased my egotism +and enlarged my appreciation of my own abilities that I am tempted to +try it, especially now, as you inform me I am independent and can do as +I please." + +"Have you progressed so far as to fix upon a subject?" inquired Quincy. + +"Yes, provisionally," replied Alice. "I have always been a great admirer +of history, and particularly that of my own country. For the period from +1776, no, from 1607, to the present time I have become conversant with +the thoughts and acts of our patriots and public men. One character has +always been a mystery to me, and I wish to learn all I can about him." + +"And he?" questioned Quincy. + +"Is Aaron Burr," said Alice. "How I wish I could learn the truth about +the loss of his daughter Theodosia; then the real reasons for his duel +with Alexander Hamilton are not fully understood at the present day. +Then again, I should enjoy writing about that fine old Irish gentleman +and lover of science, Harman Blennerhassett, and his lovely wife, +Margaret." + +"Have you decided upon the title?" still further questioned Quincy. + +"I have thought of two," she replied, "'Theodosia,' and +'Blennerhassett,' but I strongly incline to the latter." + +"So do I," said Quincy, "but you will have to do much more reading, no +doubt, before you commence writing. Historical novels are usually +savagely attacked by the critics, presumably very often from political +motives, and you would have to be very strong in your authorities." + +"That is what troubles me," said Alice; "if I only could read--" + +"But others can read to you and make such notes as you desire," remarked +Quincy. "I should like nothing better than to help you in such a work, +but I have been away from home so long that I feel it imperative to +resume my business duties at an early day." + +"I think you ought," said Alice. "I could not presume to trespass upon +your kindness and good nature to such an extent. The idea of writing +this book has grown very pleasing to me, but I can wait until--" She +stopped speaking and placed both of her hands over her eyes. "I can +wait," she repeated, "until my eyes are better." + +"Will you allow me to make a suggestion, Miss Pettengill?" + +Alice smiled and nodded. "You are my literary as well as my financial +adviser," said she. + +"It will no doubt appear quite an undertaking to you," continued Quincy, +"but I shall be very glad to help you. My plan is to secure a lady who +reads well and can write a good hand to assist you. Besides this, she +must understand correcting proof sheets. I think Leopold could easily +find such a person for you. Then, again, you know what Dr. Tillotson +said about your taking exercise and fresh air. The second feature of my +plan, and the most important in my mind, is to find some quiet place in +the country, or at the beach, where you and your amanuensis can both +work and play. I can buy for you such books as you need, and you can +finish the work this summer." + +Alice reflected. After a few moments' pause she said, "I like the plan +and I thank you very much for speaking of it; but I prefer the beach. I +love the plash and roar and boom of the water, and it will be a constant +inspiration to me. How soon can I go?" she asked, with a look upon her +face that a young child might have had in speaking to its father. + +This was Alice Pettengill's great charm. She was honest and +disingenuous, and was always ready to think that what others deemed it +best for her to do was really so. Imitation may be the sincerest +flattery, but appreciation of the advice and counsel of others, combined +with gratitude for the friendly spirit that prompts it, makes and holds +more friends. + +Quincy looked at his watch. + +"I can get the afternoon train, I think," said he. "I will see Leopold, +and then run up and make Aunt Ella a call. She knows the New England +coast from Eastport to Newport. Did she speak to you at the wedding?" + +"Some lady with a very pleasant voice asked me if I were Miss +Pettengill, while we were in the church," replied Alice. "I said yes, +and then she told me that her name was Chessman, adding the information +that she was your aunt, and that you could tell me all about her." + +"I shall be happy to," said Quincy; "but I can assure you it would be +much more enjoyable for you to hear it from herself. I hope you will +have that pleasure some day." And again adopting a bantering tone, "I +trust, fair lady, I shall not return this time from a bootless errand." + +Alice listened again, as she had often done, until she heard the sound +of departing wheels, and then she fell to wondering whether her future +paths in life would continue to be marked out by this Sir Knight, who +was ever at her beck and call, and whether it was her destiny to always +tread the paths that he laid out for her. + +Quincy was fortunate in finding Leopold at home. + +"I'm glad you've come, Quincy," said he; "I was going to write you +to-night." + +"What's up?" inquired Quincy. + +"Please pass me that package of papers on the corner of the table," +answered Leopold, being loath to rise from his recumbent position on the +lounge. + +Quincy did as requested and took a seat beside Leopold. + +"These," said Leopold, "are the proofs of the first writings of a +to-be-famous American author. Glad she took a man's name, so I don't +have to say authoress. Here," he continued, "are the proofs of the +story, Was it Signed? Cooper wishes it read and returned immediately. +Editors wish everything done immediately. They loaf on their end and +expect the poor author to sit up all night and make up for their +shortcomings. I'm a sort of editor myself, and I know what I'm talking +about. This lot," he continued, "will appear in 'The Sunday Universe' a +week from next Sunday. I had a copy made for Jameson to work from. Bruce +Douglas owes me four-fifty for expenses, necessary but not authorized." + +"I will see that you are reimbursed," said Quincy; "want it now?" and he +made a motion to take out his pocketbook. + +"No," replied Leopold, "I'm flush to-day; keep it till some time when +I'm strapped. Last, and most important of all, here are the proofs of +the story that is to appear in our monthly. Now, my advice to you is, +Quincy, seek the fair author at once, correct these proofs and have them +back to me within three days, or they'll go over and she'll be charged +for keeping the type standing, besides having her pay hung up for +another week." + +"She won't mind that," said Quincy, with a laugh. "She's an heiress now, +with real and personal property valued at fifty thousand dollars. But +what am I to do?" asked he seriously. "I could read the manuscript, but +we have no one at Eastborough who knows how to make those pothooks and +scratches that you call 'corrections.'" + +"Well, you two young aspirants for literary fame are in a box, are'nt +you? I was thinking about that fifty thousand. Perhaps I'd better go +home with you and get acquainted with the author," said Leopold with a +laugh. + +"Well," returned Quincy, "it would be very kind of you in our present +emergency, but, strange as it may seem, I came to see you this afternoon +about securing a literary assistant for Miss Pettengill. She has decided +to write that book." + +"Good girl!" cried Leopold, sitting bolt upright upon the lounge. "I +mean, good boy, for it was, no doubt, your acknowledged powers of +argument and gently persuasive ways that have secured this consummation +of my desire. Let me think;" and he scratched his head vigorously. "I +think I have it," said he, finally. "One of our girls down to the office +worked so hard during our late splurge that the doctor told her she must +rest this week. She rooms over on Myrtle Street. I happened to be late +in getting out one day last week, and we walked together up as far as +Chestnut Street. She lives nearly down to the end of Myrtle Street." + +"No further explanation or extenuation is necessary," said Quincy. "Is +she pretty?" + +"You're right, she is," replied Leopold, "She's both pretty and smart. +She has a beautiful voice and writes a hand that looks like copperplate. +She's a first-class proof reader and a perfect walking dictionary on +spelling, definitions, and dates. They treat her mighty shabby on pay, +though. She's a woman, so they gave her six dollars a week. If she were +a man they'd give her twenty, and think themselves lucky. I'll run over +and see if she is at home. At what time could she go down with you +to-morrow?" he asked. + +"I'll come after her at nine o'clock. Tell her Miss Pettengill will give +her eight dollars a week, with board and lodging free." + +"All right," cried Leopold, "that's business. While I'm gone just see +how pretty those stories look in cold type. I've been all through them +myself just for practice." + +Leopold dashed out of the room and Quincy took up the proofs of the +story, Was It Signed? He became so absorbed in its perusal that Leopold +pulled it out of his hand in order to attract his attention. + +"It's all right," he said. "She's delighted at the idea of going. She +thinks the change will do her good. She can't build up very fast in a +little back room, up three flights." + +"What's her name?" asked Quincy. + +"Oh! I forgot," replied Leopold. "I'll write her name and address down +for you. There it is," said he, as he passed it to Quincy. "Her first +name is Rosa, and that's all right. She's of French-Canadian descent, +and her last name is one of those jawbreakers that no American can +pronounce. It sounded something like Avery, so she called herself at +first Rosa Avery; then the two A's caused trouble, for everybody thought +she said Rose Avery. Being a proof reader," continued Leopold, "she is +very sensitive, so while the name Rosa satisfied her inmost soul, the +name Rose jarred upon her sensibilities. Thus another change became +necessary, and she is now known, and probably will continue to be known, +as Miss Rosa Very, until she makes up her mind to change it again." + +"I'm greatly obliged, Leopold," said Quincy, making the proofs into a +flat parcel and putting them into his inside overcoat pocket. + +"Don't mention it, old fellow," remarked Leopold. "You may be the means +of supplying me with an assistant some day. If you should, don't fail to +call my attention to it." + +Aunt Ella was at dinner when Quincy arrived. She sent word up by Buttons +for Quincy to come down to the dining-room at once. She was alone in the +room when he entered. + +"Just in time," said he, "and I'm hungry as a bear." + +"That's a good boy; sit down and help me out," said his aunt. "These +extravagant servants of mine cook ten times as much as I can possibly +eat." + +"I don't imagine it is wasted," replied Quincy. + +"I think not," said Aunt Ella, with a laugh; "for, judging from the +extra plentiful supply, they probably have a kitchen party in view for +this evening. But what keeps you away from Eastborough over night?" + +"I thought you couldn't eat and talk at the same time," remarked Quincy. + +"I can't," she replied. "I'm through eating and I'm going to sit and +listen to you. Go right ahead, the servants won't come in. I won't let +them stand and look at me when I'm eating. If I want them I ring for +them." + +Quincy then briefly related the principal events that had taken place at +Mason's Corner since the nineteenth, remarking, incidentally, that he +had received no word from Lindy. + +"Let her alone, and she'll come home when she gets ready," said Aunt +Ella. "As to the best place for your young lady to go, I shall have to +think a minute. Old Orchard is my favorite, but I'm afraid it would be +too noisy for her there, the hotels are so close to the railroad track. +I suppose your family, meaning your mother's, of course, will go to +Nahant, as usual. Sarah would have society convulsions at Old Orchard. I +should like to see her promenading down in front of the candy stores, +shooting for cigars in the shooting gallery, or taking a ride down to +Saco Pool on the narrow-gauge; excuse me for speaking so of your mother, +Quincy, but I have been acquainted with her much longer than you have." +She went on, "Newport is too stylish for comfort. Ah! I have it, Quincy. +I was there three years ago, and I know what I'm talking about. Quaint +place,--funny looking houses, with little promenades on top,--crooked +streets that lead everywhere and nowhere,--very much like Boston,--full +of curiosities,--hardy old mariners and peaceable old Quakers,--plenty +of nice milk and eggs and fresh fish,--more fish than anything +else,--every breeze is a sea breeze, and it is so delightfully quiet +that the flies and mosquitoes imitate the inhabitants, and sleep all day +and all night." + +"Where is this modern Eden, this corner lot in Paradise?" asked Quincy; +"it can't be part of the United States." + +"Not exactly," replied Aunt Ella; it's off shore, I forget how many +miles, but you can find it swimming around in the water just south of +Cape Cod." + +"Oh! you mean Nantucket," cried Quincy. + +"That's the place," assented his aunt. "Now, Quincy, I'll tell you just +what I want you to do, and I want you to promise to do it before I say +another word." + +"That's a woman's way," remarked Quincy, "of avoiding argument and +preventing a free expression of opinion by interested parties; but I'll +consent, only be merciful." + +"What I'm going to ask you to do, Quincy Sawyer, is for your good, and +you'll own up that I've been more than a mother to you before I get +through." + +"You always have been," said Quincy, seriously. "Of course, I love my +mother in a way, but I'm never exactly comfortable when I'm with her. +But when I'm with you, Aunt Ella, I'm always contented and feel +perfectly at home." + +"Bless you, my dear boy," she said. Then, rising, she went behind his +chair, leaned over and kissed him on the forehead; then, pulling a chair +close to him, she went on: "I haven't spoken to you of her, Quincy, +because I have had no opportunity until now. I've fallen in love with +her myself. I am a physiognomist as well as a phrenologist. Robert +taught me the principles. She's almost divinely lovely. I say almost, +for, of course, she'll be still lovelier when she goes to Heaven. Her +well-shaped head indicates a strong, active, inventive mind, while her +pure heart and clean soul are mirrored in her sweet face. She is a good +foil for you, Quincy. You are almost dark enough for a Spaniard or an +Italian, while she is Goethe's ideal Marguerite." + +It was not necessary for Quincy to ask to whom she referred, nor to +praise her powers of discernment. It was Aunt Ella's time for talking, +and she was not inclined to brook any interference. So she went on. + +"I want you to bring her here to me and have Rosa What-d'yer-call-her +come with her. Here they can work and play until you get the nest ready +for her down to Nantucket. You say she plays and sings. I love music +passionately, but I can't play a note, even on a jew's-harp; but if she +plays a wrong note I shall feel inclined to call her attention to it. +When I used to go to the theatre with Robert, I delighted in telling him +how badly some of the members of the orchestra were playing, but I +repented of it. He got in the habit of going out between the acts to +escape the music, he said, and I never could keep him in his seat after +that." + +Quincy laughed heartily at this. "I see no way of stopping this bad +habit that gentlemen have of going out between the acts," said he, +"unless you ladies combine, and insist on a higher grade of orchestral +excellence." + +"I have a large library," continued Aunt Ella, "and she may find many +books in it that will be of use to her. Robert spent eighteen thousand +dollars on it, and I've bought a couple of thousand dollars' worth more +since his death. Now, what do you say, Quincy? You know I will do all in +my power to make her comfortable and happy while she is here. If Maude +runs up, and she's the only one that is likely to, I will tell her that +I have friends here from England. I will keep her out of the way. Will +you bring her?" + +"If she will come, I will," Quincy replied. + +"You will never repent it," said Aunt Ella. "Now let us go upstairs." + +When they reached her room the cigars and cigarettes were again in +requisition. + +"I kept my promise the other day, Quincy," said she, "when the three +girls were here. What a sweet, rosy-cheeked, healthy, happy trio they +were! I wasn't more than twenty myself that day. I give you my solemn +promise, Quincy, that I won't smoke a cigarette nor drink a glass of +wine while Alice is here,--until after she goes to bed; and then I'll +eat a clove and air the room out thoroughly before I let her in in the +morning." + +Quincy was up early next morning, and at ten minutes of nine reached the +lodging house in Myrtle Street. He had taken a carriage, for he knew +Miss Very would have her luggage, probably a trunk. His call at the door +was answered by a sharp-eyed, hatchet-faced woman, whose face was red +with excitement. To Quincy's inquiry if Miss Very was in, the woman +replied, "that she was in and was likely to stay in." + +"I trust she is not sick," said Quincy. + +"No! she ain't sick," the woman replied, "what you mean by sick; but +there's worse things than bein' sick, especially when a poor widder has +a big house rent to pay and coal seven dollars and a half a ton." + +A small trunk, neatly strapped, stood in the hallway. Glancing into the +stuffy little parlor, he saw a woman, apparently young, with her veil +down, seated on a sofa, with a large valise on the floor and a hand bag +at her side. + +Quincy divined the situation at once. Stepping into the hallway, he +closed the parlor door, and, turning to the woman, said, "How much?" + +"Three dollars," replied the woman, "and it's cheap enough for--" + +"A miserable little dark stuffy side room, without any heat, up three +flights, back," broke in Quincy, as he passed her the money. + +The woman was breathless with astonishment and anger. Taking advantage +of this, Quincy opened the parlor door, first beckoning to the coachman +to come in and get the trunk. + +"Miss Very, I presume?" said Quincy, as he advanced towards the young +lady on the sofa. + +She arose as he approached, and answered, "Yes, sir." + +"Come with me, please," said he, grasping the valise. She hesitated; he +understood why. "It's all right," he said, in a low tone. "I've settled +with the landlady, and you can settle with me any time." + +"Thank you, so much," spoke a sweet voice from underneath the veil, and +the owner of it followed close behind him, and he handed her into the +carriage. As Quincy pulled the carriage door to, that of the lodging +house closed with a report like that of a pistol, and Mrs. Colby went +down stairs and told the servant, who was scrubbing the kitchen floor, +what had occurred, and added that she "had always had her suspicions of +that Miss Very." + + * * * * * + +While Quincy was talking with Alice the day before, his dinner that Mrs. +Hawkins had saved for him was being burned to a crisp in and on the +stove. Mrs. Hawkins's attention was finally attracted to it, and, +turning to Betsy, she said, "Law sakes, somethin' must be burnin'." +Running to the stove, she soon discovered the cause. "Mercy on me!" she +ejaculated. "I left that damper open, and his dinner's burnt to a +cinder. Wall, I don't care; he may be a good lodger, an' all that, but +he's a mighty poor boarder; and it's no satisfaction gittin' up things +for him to eat, and then lettin' them go to waste, even if he does pay +for it. Them's my sentiments, and I'll feel better now I've spit it +out." + +The good woman went to work to clean up her stove, while Betsy kept on +with the seemingly endless dish washing. Mrs. Hawkins finished her work, +and, going to the sink, began to wipe the accumulated pile of dishes. + +"I s'pose everybody in town will go to church next Sunday," said Mrs. +Hawkins, "to see them brides." + +"Will they look any different than they did the other day?" Betsy +innocently inquired. + +"Well, I guess," remarked Mrs. Hawkins. "I saw Mandy yesterday and she +told me all about her trip to the city. Mrs. Chessman went shoppin' with +them, and the way she beat them shopkeepers down was a sight, Mandy +says. It beats all how them rich folks can buy things so much cheaper +than us poor people can. She took them all home to dinner, and Mandy +says she lives in the most beautifulest house she ever saw. Then she +went to the dressmakers with them, and she beat them down more'n five +dollars on each gown. Then she took 'em to the millinery store, and she +bought each one of them a great big handsome hat, with feathers and +ribbons and flowers all over 'em. Nobody has seen 'em yet, but all three +on 'em are going to wear 'em to church next Sunday, and won't there be a +stir? Nobody'll look at the new orgin." + +"I wish I could go," said Betsy. + +Mrs. Hawkins rattled on: "Mandy says she took 'em all into a jewelry +store, and bought each one on 'em a breast-pin, a pair of earrings, and +a putty ring, to remember her by. Then she druv 'em down to the deepo in +her carriage." + +"I wish I could see them with all their fine things on," said Betsy, +again. + +"Well, you shall, Betsy," said good-hearted Mrs. Hawkins. "I'll make +Jonas help me wash the dishes Sunday mornin', and you shall go to +church." + +Betsy's face was wreathed in smiles. + +"You're so good to me, Mrs. Hawkins," she cried. + +"Well," answered Mrs. Hawkins, "you've worked like a Trojan the last +week, and you deserve it. I guess if I go up in the attic I can git a +good look at them as they're walking home from church." + +In her excitement the old lady dropped a cup and saucer on the floor, +and both mistress and maid went down on their hands and knees to pick up +the pieces. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXV. + +"THE BIRD OF LOVE." + + +The carriage containing Quincy and Rosa was driven at a rapid rate +toward the station. There was no time to lose, as some had already been +lost in the altercation with Mrs. Colby. They had proceeded but a short +distance, when Rosa took out a pocketbook, and, lifting her veil, turned +her face to Quincy. + +What a striking face it was! Large, dark blue eyes, regular features, a +light olive complexion, with a strong dash of red in each cheek, full +red lips, and hair of almost raven blackness. Like lightning the thought +flashed through Quincy's mind, "What a contrast to my Alice!" for he +always used the pronoun when he thought of her. + +"Allow me to cancel part of my indebtedness to you," said Rosa, in a +low, sweet voice, and Quincy again thought how pleasant that voice would +be to Alice when Miss Very was reading to her. + +As Rosa spoke she handed Quincy a two-dollar bill and seventy-five cents +in currency. + +"I owe you an explanation," she continued. "Mr. Ernst told me that I +must be ready to accompany you the moment you called, so I packed and +strapped my trunk last evening. When I returned from breakfast this +morning I looked through my pocketbook, and found to my surprise that I +lacked a quarter of a dollar of enough to pay for my week's lodging. In +my haste I had put my jewel case, which contained the greater part of my +money, in my trunk, and I realized that there would not be time to +unpack and pack it again before your arrival. I offered Mrs. Colby the +two seventy-five, and told her I would send her the balance in a letter +as soon as I arrived at my destination. To my astonishment, she refused +to take it, saying that she would have the three dollars or nothing." + +"If I had known that," said Quincy, "she would have got nothing." + +"Oh! it's all right," remarked Rosa, with a smile. "I know the poor +woman has hard work to make a living, and I also know that she has lost +considerable money from persons failing to pay at all or paying part of +their bills and then not sending the balance, as they promised to do." + +"And did she get up all that ugliness for a quarter of a dollar?" +inquired Quincy. + +"Oh! that wasn't the reason at all," replied Rosa; "I've always paid her +promptly and in advance. She was mad because I was going away. If she +lets the room right off she will get double rent this coming week, for +it so happened my week ended last night." + +"Lodging-house keepers," said Quincy, "seem to be a class by themselves, +and to have peculiar financial and moral codes. Here we are at the +station," he added, as the carriage came to a stop. + +As Quincy handed Rosa from the carriage, his observant eye noticed that +the hand placed in his was small and well-gloved, while the equally +small feet were encased in a pair of dainty boots. "She is true to her +French origin," he soliloquized, as they entered the +station,--"well-booted, well-gloved. I am glad she is a lady." + +The train was soon on its way to Eastborough. It was an accommodation, +and Quincy had plenty of time to point out the objects of interest on +the way. Rosa was not a lover of the country. She acknowledged this to +Quincy, saying that she was born and educated in the country, but that +she preferred paved streets and brick sidewalks to green lanes and dusty +roads. + +Alice had not waited for Quincy's return to broach the matter of the +gift of the Putnam house to Ezekiel and Huldy. She had simply asked +Quincy, so as to assure herself that there was no legal objection or +reason why she should not make the transfer. + +After breakfast the next morning she told her uncle that she wished to +have a talk with him in the parlor, and when they were alone together, +she stated her intentions to him, as she had to Quincy. The old +gentleman approved of her plan, only suggesting that it should be a +swap; that is, that Ezekiel should deed the house in which they were, in +which, in fact, she owned a half-interest, to her, so she would be sure +of a home in case she lost part of her money, or all of it, or wished to +live in the country. + +Most opportunely, Ezekiel and Huldy came over that morning to make a +call, and the matter was soon under discussion in family conclave. + +Ezekiel at first objected strenuously to the gift. He would buy the +house, he said, and pay so much a year on it, but both Alice and Uncle +Ike protested that it was foolish for a young couple to start in life +with such a heavy debt hanging over them. + +The only circumstance that led him to change his mind and agree to +accept the Putnam homestead as a gift was Uncle Ike's suggestion that he +deed the Pettengill homestead to Alice, and pay her all he received for +the sale of products from the present Pettengill farm; but 'Zekiel would +not accept any loan. He said Deacon Mason had given his daughter five +thousand dollars outright, and that would be all the cash they would +need to stock and carry on both the farms. + +Then 'Zekiel said he might as well settle on who was to live in the two +houses. He knew that Cobb's twins would like to stay with him, and he +would take them up to the Putnam house with him. Mrs. Pinkham had been +hired by the executors to remain with Samanthy until some one came to +live in the house. Ezekiel said Samanthy was a good girl, and he and +Huldy both liked her, and he felt pretty sure she'd be willing to live +with them, because she was used to the house, and as it was the only one +she'd ever lived in, it would seem like going away from home if she left +there and went somewhere else. + +Then 'Zekiel was of the opinion that Abbott Smith and Billy Ricker had +better board with Hiram and Mandy, because the grocery teams and horses +would have to be kept in the Pettengill barn, as there was no stable to +the grocery store. "'Twon't be stealin' anythin' from Mrs. Hawkins if +they don't board with her, cuz none of 'em ever lived with her afore." + +"Don't you think, 'Zekiel," asked Huldy, "that Uncle Ike ought to come +down stairs and have a better room? It will be awful hot up there in the +summer. Alice and I used to play up there, and in July and August it was +hot enough to roast eggs, wasn't it, Alice?" + +Alice, thus appealed to, said it might have been hot enough, but she was +positive that they never did roast any up there, although she remembered +setting the attic floor on fire one day with a burning glass. 'Zekiel +remembered that, too, and how they had to put new ceilings on two rooms, +because he used so much water to put the fire out. + +When Uncle Ike got a chance to speak, he said to Huldy, "Thank you, my +dear Mrs. Pettengill," with a strong accent on the Mrs., which made +Huldy blush a rosy red, "but I wouldn't swap my old attic for all the +rest of the rooms in the house. My old blood requires warmth, and I can +stand ninety-six without asking for a fan. When I come up to see you, +you can put me in one of your big square rooms, but I sha'n't stay long, +because I don't like them." + +The noise of wheels was heard, and Huldy ran to the window to look out. + +"Oh, it's Mr. Sawyer," said she; "and he's got a young lady with him, +and she's got a trunk. I wonder who she is? Do you know, Alice?" + +"I don't know who she is," replied Alice; "but I can imagine what she's +here for." + +"Is it a secret?" asked Huldy. + +"No, not exactly a secret," replied Alice. "It's a business matter. I +have a great many things to be read over to me, and considerable writing +to do, and as Mr. Sawyer is going away, I was obliged to have some one +to help me." + +"Well!" said Huldy, "you'll miss Mr. Sawyer when he goes away; I did. +Now you mustn't get jealous, Mr. Pettengill," she said to 'Zekiel; "you +know Mr. Sawyer and I were never in love with each other. That was all +village gossip, started by, you know who, and as for Mr. Sawyer liking +Lindy Putnam, or she liking him, I know better. She's never got over the +loss of her brother Jones, who, it seems, wasn't her real brother, after +all; and Samanthy Green told me the other day that Lindy wanted to marry +him." + +"I think matters are getting rather too personal for me," said Uncle +Ike, rising. "I may get drawn into it if I stay any longer. I always +liked Lindy Putnam myself." And the old gentleman laughed heartily as he +left the room. + +"Well, I guess you and me'd better be goin', if we want to be home at +dinner time," said 'Zekiel to Huldy. Then, going to his sister, he took +her in his arms and kissed her on the cheek. "You know, Alice," said he, +"that I ain't much of a talker, but I shall never forget how good you've +been to me and Huldy, and if the old house burns down or you get +lonesome, you'll always find the latchstring out up to the new house, +an' there'll be a room, an' board, an' good care for you as long as you +want to stay. Eh, Huldy?" said 'Zekiel, turning to his wife. + +"You know, 'Zekiel," replied the impulsive Huldy, "I've said a dozen +times that I wished Alice would come and live with us. Won't you, +Alice?" she added. "I never had a sister, and I think it would be +delightful to have one all to myself, especially," she added archly, +"when I have her brother, too." + +"I could never live in that house," said Alice, with a slight shudder; +"besides, I think my future path in life is being marked out for me by +the hand of Fate, which I am powerless to resist. I am afraid that it +will take me away from you, my dear ones; but if it does, I shall always +love you both, and pray for your happiness and success." + +At the front door 'Zekiel and Huldy met Quincy. The latter had turned +Miss Very over to the care of Mrs. Maxwell, and had got one of the twins +to carry the young lady's trunk to her room, which was the one formerly +occupied by Mandy. He had then driven the carryall around to the barn +and was returning, anxious to bear his tidings of success to Alice, when +he met the departing couple. + +"I hear you are going to leave us," said Huldy. + +"Who told you?" inquired Quincy. + +"Alice," replied Huldy; "and I told her she'd miss you very much when +you were gone." + +"I am afraid," replied Quincy, "that any service that I have rendered +Miss Pettengill has not been of so important a nature that it would be +greatly missed. I am glad that I have succeeded in securing her a +companion and assistant of her own sex, which will much more than +compensate for the loss of my feeble services." + +"That's what I don't like about city folks," said Huldy Pettengill, as +she walked along the path, hanging on her husband's arm. + +"What's that?" asked 'Zekiel bluntly. + +"Because," continued Huldy, "they use such big words to cover up their +real feelings. Of course, he wouldn't let on to us, but any one with +half an eye could see that he's head over heels in love with your +sister Alice, and he'd stand on his head if she told him to." + +"Well, Alice is too sensible a girl to ask him to do that sort of +thing," said 'Zekiel frankly. "Any way, I don't believe she's in love +with him." + +"'Twould be a great match for her," said Huldy. + +"I don't know 'bout that. On general principles, I don't believe in +country girls marryin' city fellers." + +"I know you don't," said Huldy, and she gave his arm a little squeeze. + +"But," continued 'Zekiel, "Alice is different from most country girls. +Besides, she's lived in the city and knows city ways. Anyway, I sha'n't +interfere; I know Mr. Sawyer is a respectable young man, and, by George! +when he wants to do anything, don't he jest put it through. The way he +sarcumvented that Strout was as good as a circus." + +"I think I sarcumvented that Strout, too," said Huldy, as they reached +the corner of Deacon Mason's front fence. + +"You've been quite a little flirt in your day," remarked 'Zekiel, "but +it's all over now;" and he squeezed the little hand that stole +confidingly into his big, brawny one. + +Quincy at once entered the parlor and found Alice seated in her +accustomed easy-chair. + +"You have returned, Sir Knight," was the remark with which Alice greeted +him. + +"I have, fair lady," replied Quincy, in the same vein; "I have captured +one of the enemy and brought her as a prisoner to your castle. Here are +some documents," he continued, as he placed the proofs in Alice's hands, +"that contain valuable secrets, and they will, no doubt, furnish strong +evidence against the prisoner." + +"What is it?" asked Alice, holding up the package. + +"They are the proofs of three of your stories," replied Quincy, +relapsing into commonplace; "and Leopold says they must be read and +corrected at once. If we can attend to this during the afternoon and +evening, I will go up to Boston again to-morrow morning." Quincy then +told Alice about Rosa and the terms that he had made with her, and Alice +expressed herself as greatly pleased with the arrangement. "You will +find Miss Very a perfect lady," said Quincy, "with a low, melodious +voice that will not jar upon your ears, as mine, no doubt, has often +done." + +"You are unfair to yourself, when you say that," remarked Alice +earnestly. "Your voice has never jarred upon my ears, and I have always +been pleased to listen to you." + +Whether Quincy's voice would have grown softer and sweeter and his words +more impassioned if the interview had continued, cannot be divined, for +Mrs. Maxwell at that moment opened the parlor door and called out, +"Dinner's ready," just as Mandy Skinner used to do in the days gone by. + +Miss Very was introduced to Alice and the others at the dinner table, +and took the seat formerly occupied by 'Zekiel. Quincy consented to +remain to dinner, as he knew his services would be required in the proof +reading. When Cobb's twins reached the barn, after dinner, Jim said to +Bill, "Isn't she a stunner! I couldn't keep my eyes off'n her." + +"Neither could I," rejoined Bill. "I tell yer, Jim, style comes nat'ral +to city folks. I'll be durned if I know whether I had chicken or codfish +for dinner." + +After the noonday meal the three zealous toilers in the paths of +literature began work. Quincy read from the manuscript, Rosa held the +proofs, while Alice listened intently, and from time to time made +changes in punctuation or slight alterations in the language. No +sentence had to be rewritten, and when the reading of the story, Was It +Signed? was finished, Rosa said, "A remarkably clean set of proofs; only +a few changes, and those slight ones. In the case of very few authors +are their original ideas and second thoughts so harmonious. How do you +manage it, Miss Pettengill?" + +"Oh, I don't know," replied Alice, with a smile, "unless it is that I +keep my original ideas in my mind until they reach the stage of second +thoughts, and then I have them written down." + +"You will find Miss Pettengill very exact in dictation," said Quincy to +Rosa. "I took that long story there down in pencil, and I don't think I +was obliged to change a dozen words." + +"To work with Miss Pettengill," remarked Rosa, "will be more of a +pleasure than a task." + +This idea was re-echoed in Quincy's mind, and for a moment he had a +feeling of positive envy towards Miss Very. Then he thought that hers +was paid service, while his had been a labor--of love. Yes, it might as +well be put that way. + +The sun had sunk quite low in the west when the second story, Her Native +Land, was completed. "How dramatic!" cried Rosa; "the endings of those +chapters are as strong as stage tableaus." + +"It is being dramatized by Jameson of the 'Daily Universe,'" said +Quincy. + +"I am well acquainted with Mr. Jameson," remarked Rosa; "I belong to a +social club of which he is the president. He is a very talented young +man and a great worker. He once told me that when he began newspaper +work he wrote eighteen hours out of twenty-four for a month, and nearly +every night he woke up and made notes that he wrote out in the morning. +Do you believe in unconscious mental cerebration, Mr. Sawyer?" + +"I'm afraid not," replied Quincy, laughing; "I never had ideas enough to +keep my brain busy all day, much less supply it with work at night." + +"Mr. Sawyer is always unfair to himself," remarked Alice to Miss Very. +"As for myself, I will answer your question in the affirmative. I have +often gone to bed with only the general idea of a story in my mind, and +have awakened with the details all thought out and properly placed." + +"I think it best to postpone the reading of the last story until after +supper," said Quincy. + +Alice assented, and, turning to Rosa, asked, "Do you like the country, +Miss Very?" + +"To speak honestly," replied Rosa, "I do not. I told Mr. Sawyer so on +the train. It is hotter in the country than it is in the city. I can't +bear the ticking of a clock in my room, and I think crickets and owls +are more nerve-destroying than clocks, and I positively detest anything +that buzzes and stings, like bees, and wasps, and hornets." + +"But don't you like cows, and sheep, and horses?" asked Alice; "I love +them." + +"And I don't," said Rosa frankly. "I like beefsteak and roast lamb, but +I never saw a cow that didn't have a ferocious glare in its eye when it +looked at me." Both Quincy and Alice laughed heartily. "As for horses," +continued Rosa, "I never drive alone. When I'm with some one I alternate +between hope and fear until I reach my destination." + +"I trust you were more hopeful than fearful on your way from Eastborough +Centre," said Quincy. + +"Oh! I saw at a glance," remarked Rosa, "that you were a skilful driver, +and I trusted you implicitly." + +"I have had to rely a great deal upon Mr. Sawyer," remarked Alice, "and, +like yourself, I have always placed the greatest confidence in him. +Huldy told me this morning, Mr. Sawyer, that I would miss you very much, +and I know I shall." + +"But you will have Miss Very with you constantly," said Quincy. + +"Oh! she does not like the country," continued Alice, "and she will get +homesick in a little while." + +"One's likes and one's duties often conflict," said Rosa; and a grave +look settled upon her face. "But how can you write your book down here, +Miss Pettengill? You will have to consult hundreds of books, if you +intend to write an historical novel, as Mr. Sawyer told me you did. You +ought to have access to the big libraries in Boston, and, besides, in +the second-hand bookstores you can buy such treasures for a mere song, +if you will only spend the time to hunt for them." + +"That reminds me," broke in Quincy, "that my aunt, Mrs. Chessman,--she +is my mother's only sister, who lives on Mt. Vernon Street,--wished me +to extend a cordial invitation to you two young ladies to visit her, +while I am getting your summer home ready for you. She suggests +Nantucket as the best place for work, but with every opportunity for +enjoyment, when work becomes a burden." + +"Oh, that will be delightful," cried Rosa. "I love the sea, and there we +shall have it all around us; and at night, the great dome of Heaven, +studded with stars, will reach down to the sea on every side, and they +say at 'Sconset, on the east end of the island, that when the breakers +come in the sight is truly magnificent." + +Quincy was inwardly amused at Rosa's enthusiasm, but it served his +purpose to encourage it, so he said, "I wish Aunt Ella were her to join +forces with Miss Very. You would find it hard work to resist both of +them, Miss Pettengill." + +"You mean all three of you," said Alice, with a smile. + +"If we go to Nantucket," added Rosa, "I shall have to spend a week in +the city, and perhaps more. I have no dresses suitable for so long a +residence at the beach." + +"Neither have I," coincided Alice, with a laugh. + +There the matter was dropped. Quincy knew too much, to press the +question to a decision that evening. He had learned by experience that +Alice never said yes or no until her mind was made up, and he knew that +the answer was more likely to be favorable if he gave her plenty of time +for reflection; besides, he thought that Alice might wish to know more +particularly what his aunt said, for she would be likely to consider +that his aunt must have some reason for giving such an invitation to two +persons who were virtually strangers to her. + +After supper, the third story, How He Lost Both Name and Fortune, was +read and corrected, and it was the unusually late hour of eleven o'clock +before the lights in the Pettengill house were extinguished. It was past +midnight when Quincy sought his room at Mrs. Hawkins's boarding house, +and the picture of Alice Pettengill, that he had purloined so long ago, +stood on a little table at the head of his bed, leaning against a large +family Bible, which he found in the room. + +The next morning he was up early, and visited the grocery store. Mr. +Strout and Hiram both assured him that business had picked up amazingly, +and was really "splendid." The new wagons were building up trade very +fast. Billy Ricker went over to Montrose for orders Monday, Wednesday, +and Friday mornings, and delivered them in the afternoons. This gave +Abbott Smith a chance to post up the books on those days, for he had +been made bookkeeper. He went to Eastborough Centre and Westvale, the +new name given to West Eastborough at the last town meeting, Tuesday, +Thursday, and Saturday mornings. He delivered goods on the afternoons of +those days, which gave him an opportunity to spend Sunday at home with +his father and his family. + +When Quincy reached the Pettengill house, Mrs. Maxwell informed him that +Miss Pettengill was in the parlor alone. After greeting Alice, Quincy +asked, "But where is Miss Very?" + +"I told her I should not need her services until after I had seen you," +she replied. "I have a question to ask you Mr. Sawyer, and I know you +will give me a truthful answer. What led your aunt to invite me to come +and visit her?" + +Quincy knew that Alice had been considering the matter, and this one +simple question, to which she expected a truthful answer, was the +crucial test. + +He did not hesitate in replying. If he did, he knew the result would be +fatal to his hopes. + +"Only the promptings of her own good nature. She is one of the +warmest-hearted women in the world," continued Quincy. "I will tell you +just how it happened. I told her I had found an assistant to help you in +your work, and that the next thing was to fix upon a place for a summer +residence. I asked her opinion, and after considering the advantages and +disadvantages of a score of places, she finally settled upon Nantucket +as being the most desirable. Then she said, 'While you are finding a +place and getting it ready for them, ask Miss Pettengill to come and +visit me and bring her friend. Tell her that I am rich, as far as money +goes, but poor in love and companionship. Tell them both that I shall +love to have them come and will do everything I can to make their visit +a pleasant one.' Those were her words as nearly as I can remember them;" +and Quincy waited silently for the decision. + +It soon came. Alice went to him and extended her hand, which Quincy +took. + +"Tell her," said Alice in her quiet way, "that I thank her very much and +that we will come." + +"How soon?" inquired Quincy anxiously and rather abruptly. + +"In a few days," replied Alice. "I can get ready much sooner with Miss +Very to help me." + +She withdrew the hand, which she had unconsciously allowed to remain in +his so long, and a slight flush mounted to her cheek, for Quincy had +equally unconsciously given it a gentle pressure as he relinquished it. + +"I must do up these proofs," said he, going to the table. "I will get +the next train to Boston. I will be back to-morrow noon, and in the +afternoon I will drive over to Montrose about that deed of the Putnam +house. I know Aunt Ella will be delighted to hear that you are coming." +But he said nothing about his own delight at being the bearer of the +tidings. + +When he had gone, Alice sat in her chair as she had many a time before +and thought. As she sat there she realized more strongly than she had +ever done that if Fate was marking out her course for her, it had +certainly chosen as its chief instrument the masterful young man who had +just left her. + +The remainder of that day and the morning of the next Alice spent in +dictating to Rosa a crude general outline of Blennerhassett. During the +work she was obliged, naturally, to address Rosa many times, and +uniformly called her Miss Very. Finally Rosa said, "Wouldn't you just as +soon call me Rosa? Miss Very seems so stiff and formal." + +"I hope you will not consider me uncompanionable or set in my ways," +remarked Alice. "We are working, you know, and not playing," she +continued with a sweet smile. "I have no doubt you are worthy of both my +esteem and love, but I have known you less than a day and such things +come slowly with me. Let me call you Miss Very, because you are that to +me now. When the time comes, as I feel it will, to call you Rosa, it +shall come from a full heart. When I call you Rosa, it will be because I +love you, and, after that, nothing will ever change my feelings towards +you." + +"I understand you," replied Rosa. "I will work and wait." + +Quincy arrived at about the same time of day that he did when he came +with Rosa. Miss Very had gone to her room, so that he saw Alice alone. +He told her that his aunt was greatly pleased at her acceptance and +would be ready to receive her at any time that it was convenient for her +to come. He proffered his services to aid her in getting ready for the +journey, but she told him that with Miss Very's help she would need no +other assistance. + +"I have another matter of business to speak about," continued she, "and +if you will kindly attend to that, when you go to Montrose, it will +oblige me very much. You are always doing something to make me your +debtor," she added with a smile. + +"I would do more if you would allow me," replied Quincy. + +"The fact is," said Alice, "'Zekiel does not wish to borrow any money, +nor would he accept the gift of the Putnam homestead unless he, in turn, +deeded this house and farm to me. He is going to run this farm and pay +me what he gets from the sale of products. If you will have Squire +Rundlett draw up both deeds and the agreement, the whole matter can be +fixed before I go away." + +Quincy promised to give his attention to the matter that afternoon. He +drove up to his boarding house and hitched his horse at the front door. +Mrs. Hawkins saw him enter and take his seat at the dinner table. +"There's that Mr. Sawyer; he's slept in this house just one night and +eaten just one meal up to this noon for nigh on a week. Them city folks +must have Injun rubber stummicks and cast iron backs or they couldn't +eat in so many different places and sleep in so many different beds. +Why, if I go away and stay over night, when I git home I'm allus +sicker'n a horse and tired enough to drop." + +Quincy went to Montrose that afternoon and saw Squire Rundlett. The +latter promised to make the papers out the next day, and said he would +bring them over for signing the following morning. Quincy drove down to +Deacon Mason's and told 'Zekiel when to be on hand, and after leaving +the team in the Pettengill barn, saw Alice and informed her of the +Squire's proposed visit. He told her that he would come down that +morning to act as a witness, if his services were required. + +He spent the next day at the grocery store, going over the stock with +Strout and Abbott Smith, and had a list made of articles that they +thought it would be advisable to carry in the future. He told Strout +that he would visit some wholesale grocery houses in Boston and have +samples sent down. + +"Mr. Sawyer is improvin'," said Mrs. Hawkins to Betsy the next morning +after breakfast. "He's slept in his bed two nights runnin', and he's eat +four square meals, and seemed to enjoy them, too. I guess he didn't git +much when he was jumpin' 'round so from one place to another." + +Squire Rundlett kept his word, and the legal documents were duly signed +and executed. Alice told the Squire that she was going away for several +months, and that she would undoubtedly send to him from time to time. + +"My dear Miss Pettengill," replied the gallant Squire, "you shall have +all you ask for if I have to sell my best horse and mortgage my house. +But I don't think it will be necessary," he added. "Some more dividends +and interest have come in and I have more than a thousand dollars to +your credit now." + +After the Squire had left, Alice told Quincy that her preparations were +all made, and that she would be ready to go to Boston the next day. The +mid-day train was fixed upon. After dinner that day, Quincy informed +Mrs. Hawkins that he wished to pay his bill in full, as he should leave +for good the next day. + +Holding the money in her hand, Mrs. Hawkins entered the kitchen and +addressed Betsy. + +"Just what I expected," said she; "jest as that Mr. Sawyer got to +stayin' home nights and eating his meals like a Christian, he ups an' +gits. I guess it'll be a dry summer. I kinder thought them two boys over +to the grocery would come here, but I understand they're goin' down to +Pettengill's, and somebody told me that Strout goes over to Eastborough +Centre every Sunday now. I s'pose he's tryin' to shine up again to that +Bessie Chisholm, that he used to be sweet on. When he goes to keepin' +house there'll be another boarder gone;" and the poor woman, having +borrowed enough trouble, sat down and wiped a supposed tear out of each +eye with her greasy apron. + +Quincy reached Aunt Ella's residence with the young ladies about noon. +Aunt Ella gave the three travellers a hearty welcome, and the young +ladies were shown at once to their rooms, which were on the third floor +at the front of the house. They were connected, so that Rosa could be +close at hand in case Alice should need assistance. + +While the footman and Buttons were taking the trunks upstairs, Quincy +asked his aunt if he could leave his trunk there for a short time. "I do +not wish to take it home," he said, "until after I have the ladies +settled at Nantucket. The carriage is waiting outside and I am going to +get the one o'clock train." + +"I will take good care of your trunk," said Aunt Ella, "and you, too, if +you will come and live with me. But can't you stop to lunch with us?" +she asked. But Quincy declined, and requesting his aunt to say good-by +to the young ladies for him, he entered the carriage and was driven off. + +After luncheon, which was served in the dining-room, General Chessman +and Aides-de-Camp Pettengill and Very held a counsel of war in the +General's private tent. It was decided that the mornings should be +devoted, for a while, at least, to shopping and visiting modistes and +milliners. Miss Very was also to give some of her time to visits to the +libraries and the second-hand bookstores looking for books that would be +of value to Alice in her work. The afternoons were to be passed in +conversation and in listening to Miss Very's reading from the books that +she had purchased or taken from the libraries. The evenings were to be +filled up with music, and the first one disclosed the pleasing fact +that Miss Very had a rich, full contralto voice that had been well +cultivated and that she could play Beethoven or the songs of the day +with equal facility. + +While the feminine trio were thus enjoying themselves in Boston with an +admixture of work and play, Quincy was busily engaged at Nantucket in +building a nest for them, as he called it. + +He had found a large, old-fashioned house on the bluff at the north +shore, overlooking the harbor, owned by Mrs. Gibson. She was a widow +with two children, one a boy of about nineteen, named Thomas, and the +other a girl of twelve, named Dorothy, but generally designated as Tommy +and Dolly. + +Mrs. Gibson consented to let her second floor for a period of four +months, and to supply them with meals. The price was fixed upon, and +Quincy knew he had been unusually lucky in securing so desirable a +location at such a reasonable price. + +There were three rooms, one a large front room, with a view of the +harbor, and back of it two sleeping rooms, looking out upon a large +garden at the rear of the house. Quincy mentally surveyed the large room +and marked the places with a piece of chalk upon the carpet where the +piano and the bookcase were to go. Then he decided that the room needed +a lounge and a desk with all necessary fixtures and stationery for Rosa +to work at. There were some stiff-backed chairs in the room, but he +concluded that a low easy-chair, like the one Alice had at home, and a +couple of wicker rocking chairs, which would be cool and comfortable +during the hot summer days, were absolutely essential. + +He then returned to Boston, hired an upright piano and purchased the +other articles, including a comfortable office-chair to go with the +desk. He was so afraid that he would forget some article of stationery +that he made a list and checked it off. But this did not satisfy him. +He spent a whole morning in different stationery stores looking over +their stocks to make sure that he had omitted nothing. The goods were +packed and shipped by express to Mrs. Thomas Gibson, Nantucket, Mass. +Then, and not till then, did Quincy seek his aunt's residence with the +intelligence that the nest was builded and ready for the birds. When he +informed the ladies that everything was ready for their reception at +their summer home, Aunt Ella said that their departure would have to be +delayed for a few days, as the delinquent dressmakers had failed to +deliver certain articles of wearing apparel. This argument was, of +course, unanswerable, and Quincy devoted the time to visiting the +wholesale grocers, as he had promised Strout that he would do, and to +buying and shipping a long list of books that Miss Very informed him +Miss Pettengill needed for her work. He learned that during his absence +the proofs of The Man Without a Tongue had been brought over by Mr. +Ernst and read and corrected, Aunt Ella taking Quincy's place as reader. + +At last all was ready, and on the tenth of May a party of three ladies +and one gentleman was driven to the station in time for the one o'clock +train. They had lunched early and the whole party was healthy, happy, +and in the best of spirits. Then came the leave-takings. The two young +ladies and the gentleman sped away upon the train, while the middle-aged +lady started for home in her carriage, telling herself a dozen times on +the way that she knew she would be lonesomer than ever when she got +there. + +The trip by train and boat was uneventful. Alice sat quietly and enjoyed +the salt sea breeze, while both Quincy and Rosa entertained her with +descriptions of the bits of land and various kinds of sailing craft that +came in sight. It was nearly seven o'clock when the steamer rounded +Brant Point. In a short time it was moored to the wharf, and the party, +with their baggage, were conveyed swiftly to Mrs. Gibson's, that lady +having been notified by Quincy to expect them at any moment. He did not +enter the house. He told Miss Very to address him care of his aunt if +they needed anything, and that Mr. Ernst and himself would come down +when Miss Pettengill had completed two or three chapters of her book. +Quincy then bade them good-by and was driven to a modest hotel close to +the steamboat wharf. He took the morning boat to Boston, and that +afternoon informed Aunt Ella of the safe arrival of his fair charges. + +"What are you going to do now?" asked Aunt Ella. + +"I'm going to find my father," replied Quincy, "and through him secure +introductions to the other members of my family." + +"Good-by," said Aunt Ella; "if they don't treat you well come and stay +with me and we will go to Old Orchard together about the first of June. +I never skip out the last of April, because I always enjoy having a talk +with the assessor when he comes around in May." + +When Rosa took her seat at the new desk next morning, she exclaimed with +delight, "What a nice husband Mr. Sawyer would make!" + +"What makes you think so?" inquired Alice gravely. + +"Because he'd be such a good hand to go shopping," Rosa answered. "I've +been all over this desk twice and I don't believe he has forgotten a +single thing that we are likely to need." + +"Good work requires good tools," remarked Alice. + +"And a good workman," interposed Rosa. + +"Then we have every adjunct for success," said Alice, "and we will +commence just where we left off at Mrs. Chessman's." + +The work on the book progressed famously. Alice was in fine mental +condition and Rosa seemingly took as much interest in its progress as +did her employer. In three weeks the three opening chapters had been +written. "I wonder what Mr. Sawyer and Mr. Ernst will think of that?" +said Alice, as Rosa wrote the last line of the third chapter. + +"I am going to write to Mr. Sawyer to-day. We must have those books +before we can go much farther. Would it not be well to tell him that we +are ready for our audience?" + +Alice assented, and the letter reached Quincy one Friday evening, it +being his last call on his aunt before her departure for Old Orchard. +"Give my love to both of them," said Aunt Ella, "and tell Alice I send +her a kiss. I won't tell you how to deliver it; you will probably find +some way before you come back." + +Quincy protested that he could not undertake to deliver it, but his aunt +only laughed, kissed him, bade him good-by, and told him to be sure and +come down to Maine to see her. + +Quincy and Leopold took the Saturday afternoon boat and arrived, as +usual, about seven o'clock. They both repaired to the hotel previously +patronized by Quincy, having decided to defer their call upon the young +ladies until Sunday morning. It was a bright, beautiful day, not a cloud +was to be seen in the broad, blue expanse above them. A cool breeze was +blowing steadily from the southwest, and as the young men walked down +Centre Street towards the Cliff, Leopold remarked that he did not wonder +that the Nantucketers loved their "tight little isle" and were sorry to +leave it. "One seems to be nearer Heaven here than he does in a crowded +city, don't he, Quincy?" Quincy thought to himself that his Heaven was +in Nantucket, and that he was very near to it, but he did not choose to +utter these feelings to his friend, so he merely remarked that the sky +did seem much nearer. + +They soon reached Mrs. Gibson's and were shown directly to the young +ladies' parlor and library, for it answered both purposes. They were +attired in two creations of Mrs. Chessman's dressmaker, Aunt Ella having +selected the materials and designed the costumes, for which art she had +a great talent. Rosa's dress was of a dark rose tint, with revers and a +V-shaped neck, filled in with tulle of a dark green hue. The only other +trimming on the dress was a green silk cord that bordered the edges of +the revers and the bottom of the waist. As Quincy looked at her, for she +sat nearest to the door, she reminded him of a beautiful red rose, and +the green leaves which enhanced its beauty. Then his eyes turned quickly +to Alice, who sat in her easy-chair, near the window. Her dress was of +light blue, with square-cut neck, filled in with creamy white lace. In +her hair nestled a flower, light pink in color, and as Quincy looked at +her he thought of the little blue flower called forget-me-not, and +recalled the fact that wandering one day in the country, during his last +year at college, he had come upon a little brook, both sides of which, +for hundreds of feet, were lined with masses of this modest little +flower. Ah! but this one forget-me-not was more to him than all the +world beside. + +The greetings were soon over, and Quincy was assured by both young +ladies that they were happy and contented, and that every requisite for +their comfort had been supplied by Mrs. Gibson. + +The reading then began. Rosa possessed a full, flexible, dramatic voice, +and the strong passages were delivered with great fervor, while the sad +or sentimental ones were tinged with a tone of deep pathos. + +At the conclusion Alice said, "I wish Miss Very could read my book to +the publishers." + +"You forget," remarked Leopold, with a laugh, "that reading it to me +will probably amount to the same thing." + +A merry party gathered about Mrs. Gibson's table at dinner, after which +they went for a drive through the streets of the quaint old town. Quincy +had, as the phrenologists say, a great bump for locality. Besides, he +had studied a map of the town while coming down, and, as he remarked, +they couldn't get lost for any great length of time, as Nantucket was an +island, and the water supplied a natural boundary to prevent their +getting too far out of their way. + +While Dolly Gibson was helping her mother by wiping the dinner dishes, +she said, with that air of judicial conviction that is shown by some +children, that she guessed that the lady in the red dress was Mr. +Leopold's girl, and that the blind lady in the blue dress was Mr. +Quincy's. + +After a light supper they again gathered in the parlor and an hour was +devoted to music. Leopold neither played nor sang, but he was an +attentive and critical listener. It was a beautiful moonlight night, and +Leopold asked Rosa if she would not like to take a walk up on the Cliff. +She readily consented, but Alice pleasantly declined Quincy's invitation +to accompany them, and for the first time since the old days at Mason's +Corner, he and she were alone together. + +They talked of Eastborough and Mason's Corner and Aunt Ella for a while. +Then conversation lagged and they sat for a time in a satisfied, +peaceful silence. + +Suddenly Quincy spoke. "I had almost forgotten, Miss Pettengill, I +bought a new song yesterday morning, and I brought it with me. If you +have no objection I will try, it over." + +"I always enjoy your singing," she replied. + +He ran down stairs and soon returned with the music. He seated himself +at the piano and played the piece through with great expression. + +"It is a beautiful melody," remarked Alice. "What is it?" + +"It is a German song," replied Quincy, "by Reichardt. It is called +'Love's Request.' I will sing it this time." + +And he did sing it with all the force and fervor of a noble, manly +nature, speaking out his love covertly in the words of another, but +hoping in his heart that the beautiful girl who listened to him would +forget the author and think only of the singer. How many times young +lovers have tried this artful trick, and in what proportion it has been +successful only Heaven knows. + +"The words are very pretty, are they not?" said Alice. "I was listening +so closely to the melody that I did not catch them all." + +"I will read them to you," rejoined Quincy, and going to the window, +where the light was still bright enough, he read the words of the song +in a low, impassioned voice: + + "Now the day is slowly waning, + Evening breezes softly, softly moan; + Wilt thou ne'er heed my complaining, + Canst thou leave me thus alone? + Stay with me, my darling, stay! + And, like a dream, thy life shall pass away, + Like a dream shall pass away. + + "Canst thou thus unmoved behold me, + Still untouched by love, by love so deep? + Nay, thine arms more closely fold me, + And thine eyes begin to weep! + Stay with me, my darling, stay! + And, like a dream, thy life shall pass away, + Like a dream shall pass away. + + "No regret shall e'er attend thee, + Ne'er shall sorrow dim thine eyes; + 'Gainst the world's alarms to 'fend thee, + Gladly, proudly, would I die! + Stay with me, my darling, stay! + And, like a dream, thy life shall pass away, + Shall pass away." + +As Quincy finished reading, Leopold and Rosa came suddenly into the +room. + +"We were not eavesdropping," explained Leopold, "but just as we were +going to enter the room we heard your voice and knew that you were +either reading or speaking a piece, so we waited until you had +finished." + +"I was only reading the words of a new song that I brought down to Miss +Pettengill," said Quincy; "she liked the melody and I thought she would +appreciate it still more if she knew the words." + +"Exactly," said Leopold; "that's the reason I don't like opera, I mean +the singing part. All that I can ever make out sounds like oh! ah! ow! +and when I try to read the book in English and listen to the singers at +the same time I am lost in a hopeless maze." + +The young gentlemen were soon on their way to their hotel, and the next +afternoon found them again in Boston. + +The month of June was a busy, but very enjoyable one, for both Alice and +Rosa. They were up early in the morning and were at work before +breakfast. They ate heartily and slept soundly. Every pleasant +afternoon, when tea was over, they went riding. Tommy Gibson held the +reins, and although Dolly was not yet in her teens, she knew every nook +and corner, and object of interest on the island, and she took a child's +delight in pointing them out, and telling the stories that she had heard +about them. The books that Quincy brought on his last visit were +utilized, and Miss Very made up another list to be sent to him before +his next visit. + +The proofs of three more stories Mr. Ernst sent down by mail, and after +correction, they were returned to him in a similar manner. Little Dolly +Gibson was impressed into service as a reader, for Rosa could not read +and correct at the same time, and there was no obliging Mr. Sawyer near +at hand. As Huldy had said, Alice did miss him. It must be said, in all +truthfulness, not so much for himself, but for the services he had +rendered. As yet, Alice's heart was untouched. + +When Dolly Gibson showed her mother the money that Miss Very had given +her, at Alice's direction, she was told to take it right back at once, +but Dolly protested that she had earned it, and when her mother asked +her to tell how, the child, whose memory was phenomenal, sat down and +made her mother's hair stand almost on end and her blood almost run cold +with her recitals of the Eight of Spades, The Exit of Mrs. Delmonnay, +and He Thought He Was Dead. + +"They are immense," cried Dolly, "they beat all the fairy stories I ever +read!" + +In due time another letter was sent to Mr. Sawyer, informing him that +more books were needed, and that more chapters were ready, and on the +morning of the last Sunday in June the young ladies were awaiting the +arrival of Mr. Sawyer and Mr. Ernst. + +The morning had opened with a heavy shower and the sky was still +overcast with angry-looking, threatening rain clouds. Within the little +parlor all was bright and cheerful. + +Familiar voices were heard greeting Mrs. Gibson and the children, and +men's footsteps soon sounded upon the stairs. Leopold entered first, +and, advancing to Rosa, handed her a large bouquet of beautiful red +roses. + +"Sweets to the sweet, roses to Miss Rosa," said he, as he bowed and +presented them. + +"They are beautiful," she exclaimed. + +"All roses are considered so," he remarked with a smile. + +While this little byplay was going on, Quincy had approached Alice, who, +as usual, was sitting by the window, and placed in her hand a small +bunch of flowers. As he did so he said in a low voice, "They are +forget-me-nots. There is a German song about them, of which I remember a +little," and he hummed a few measures. + +"Oh! thank you," cried Alice, as she held the flowers before her eyes in +a vain effort to see them. "The music is pretty. Can't you remember any +of the words?" + +"Only a few," replied Quincy. Then he repeated in a low, but clear +voice: + + "There is the sweet flower + They call forget-me-not; + That flower place on thy breast, + And think of me." + +"Say, Quincy, can't you come over here and recite a little poem about +roses to Miss Very, just to help me out?" cried Leopold. "All I can +think of is: + + "The rose is red, + The violet's blue--" + +"Stop where you are," said Rosa laughingly, "for that will do." + +Alice dropped the forget-me-nots, in her lap. The illusion was +dispelled. + +The newly-completed chapters were next read, and quite a spirited +discussion took place in regard to the political features introduced in +one of them. Dinner intervened and then the discussion was resumed. + +Alice maintained that to write about Aaron Burr and omit politics would +be the play of "Hamlet," with Hamlet left out; and her auditors were +charmed and yet somewhat startled at the impassioned and eloquent manner +in which she defended Burr's political principles. + +When she finished Leopold said, "Miss Pettengill, if you will put in +your book the energetic defence that you have just made, I will withdraw +my objections." + +"You will find that and more in the next chapter," Alice replied. + +And the reading was resumed. + +The angry, threatening clouds had massed themselves once more; the +thunder roared; the lightning flashed and the rain fell in torrents. + +Leopold walked to the window and looked out. "Walking is out of the +question," said he; "will you come for a sail?" + +Music filled the evening, and during a lull in the storm the young men +reached their lodgings. + +Another month had nearly passed. The weather was much warmer, but there +was a great incentive to hard work--the book was nearly finished. Quincy +had sent down a package of books soon after his return home, and Alice +and Rosa had worked even harder than in June. + +Another letter went from Miss Very to Mr. Sawyer. It contained but a few +words: "The book is done. Miss Pettengill herself wrote the words, 'The +end,' on the last page, signed her name, and dated it 'July 30, 186--.' +She awaits your verdict." + +The first Sunday in August found the young ladies again expectant. Once +more they sat on a Sunday morning awaiting the advent of their gentlemen +friends. The day was pleasant, but warm. Soon a voice was heard at the +front door. Both ladies listened intently; but one person, evidently, +was coming upstairs. Alice thought it must be Mr. Sawyer, while Rosa +said to herself, "I think it must be Mr. Ernst." + +A light knock, the door was opened and Quincy entered. + +Rosa looked up inquiringly. + +"Mr. Ernst," said Quincy, "wished me to present his regrets at not being +able to accompany me. The fact is he will be very busy this coming week. +He is going to try to close up his work, so that he can come down next +Saturday. He intends to take a month's vacation. I shall come with him, +and we will endeavor to have a fitting celebration of the completion of +your book, Miss Pettengill. You young ladies look very cool and +comfortable this hot day." + +They were both dressed in white, Alice with a sash of blue, while Rosa +wore one of pink. + +"Then we shall have no reading till next Sunday," remarked Rosa. + +"Yes," said Quincy, seating himself in one of the willow rockers; "we +have decided upon the following programme, if it meets with Miss +Pettengill's approval. I am to listen to the remainder of the book +to-day. I will hand the complete manuscript over to him to-morrow +afternoon. He will then finish the chapters that he has not read and +turn the work over to his firm, with his approval, before he comes down +for his rest. If the work is accepted, Mr. Morton, one of the firm, will +write him to that effect." + +"The plan is certainly satisfactory to me," said Alice, "and Miss Very +and I will be delighted to contribute our aid to the proposed +celebration." + +Rosa then resumed her reading. But dinner time came before it was +completed. At that meal they were all introduced to Captain Henry +Marble. + +"My only brother," Mrs. Gibson said, by way of introduction. "He's just +home from a cruise. His ship is at New Bedford. He is going to take the +children out late this afternoon for a sail in the harbor. He always +does when he comes here. Wouldn't you ladies and Mr. Sawyer like to go +with him?" + +Captain Marble repeated the invitation, adding that he was an old +sailor, that he had a large sailboat, and that they were "only going to +Wauwinet, not out to sea, you know, but only up the inner harbor, which +is just like a pond, you know." + + +Rosa thought it would be delightful, but such a trip had no attractions +for Alice, and it was finally decided that Rosa should go, while Alice +and Mr. Sawyer would remain at home. + +The reading of the remaining chapters of Blennerhassett was completed by +three o'clock, and at quarter of four, Miss Very, attired in a natty +yachting costume, which formed part of her summer outfit, was ready to +accompany Captain Marble and the children on their trip. + +When they were alone Quincy turned to Alice and said, "I bought another +song yesterday morning, which I thought you might like to hear." + +"Is it another German song?" asked Alice. + +"No," replied Quincy, as he took a roll from the piano and opened it. +"It is a duet; the music is by Bosco, but you can tell nothing by that. +The composer's real name may be Jones or Smith." + +He seated himself at the piano and played it through, as he had done +with that other song two long months before. + +"I think it more beautiful than the other," said Alice. "Are the words +as sweet as those in that other song?" + +"Then you have not forgotten the other one," said Quincy, earnestly. + +"How could I forget it?" answered Alice. "Rosa has sung it to me several +times, but it did not sound to me as it did when you sang it." + +"I will sing this one to you," said he; and Alice came and stood by his +side at the piano. + +Quincy felt that the time to which he had looked forward so long had +come at last. He could restrain the promptings of his heart no longer. +He loved this woman, and she must know it; even if she rejected that +love, he must tell her. + +"It is called 'The Bird of Love,'" he said. Then he played the prelude +to the song. He sang as he had never sung before; all the power and +pathos and love that in him lay were breathed forth in the words and +music of that song. + +With his voice lingering upon the last word, he turned and looked up at +Alice. Upon her face there was a startled, almost frightened look. + +"Shall I read the words to you, Miss Pettengill?" There was almost a +command in the way he said it. His love had o'ermastered his politeness. + +Alice said nothing, but bowed her head. + +Then Quincy recited the words of the song. He had no need to read them, +for he knew them by heart. It seemed to him that he had written the +words himself. He did not even remember the author's name, and Alice +stood with bowed head and closed eyes and drank in these words as they +fell from his lips: + + In this heart of mine the bird of love + Has built a nest, + Has built a nest. + And so she has in mine! + Response: + And so she has in mine! + + And she toils both day and night, no thought + Of food or rest + Of food or rest, + And sings this song divine. + Response: + And sings this song divine. + Duet: + All the day long, + Such a sweet song, + Teaching love true, + I love! Do you? + +When Quincy came to the last line, instead of reading it he turned to +the piano and sang it with even more passion in his voice than at first. + +"Will you try it over with me?" he said. And without waiting for her +reply he dashed off the prelude. + +Their voices rang out together until they reached the line, "And so she +has in mine." As Alice sang these words she opened her eyes and looked +upward. A smile of supreme joy spread over and irradiated her face. Her +voice faltered; she stopped, then she caught at the piano with her right +hand. She tottered and would have fallen if Quincy had not sprung up and +taken her in his arms. + +"Is it true, Alice?" cried he; "is it so? Can you truly say, 'And so she +has in mine?'" + +And Alice looked up at him with that glorious smile still upon her face +and softly whispered, "'And so she has in mine,' Quincy." + +Quincy led her to the lounge by the window, through which the cool +evening breeze was blowing, and they sat down side by side. It has been +truly said that the conversations of lovers are more appreciated by +themselves than by anybody else, and it is equally true that at the most +tender moment, in such conversations, intensely disagreeable +interruptions are likely to occur. + +Sometimes it is the well-meaning but unthinking father; again it is the +solicitous but inquisitive mother; but more often it is the unregenerate +and disrespectful young brother or sister. In this case it was Miss Rosa +Very, who burst into the room, bright and rosy, after her trip upon the +water. As she entered she cried out, "Oh! you don't know what you +missed. I had a most delightful--" She stopped short, the truth flashed +upon her that there were other delightful ways of passing the time than +in a sailboat. She was in a dilemma. + +Quincy solved the problem. He simply said, "Good-by, Alice, for one +short week." + +He turned, expecting to see Miss Very, but she had vanished. He clasped +Alice in his arms, and kissed her, for the first time, then he led her +to her easy-chair and left her there. + +As he quitted the room and closed the door he met Miss Rosa Very in the +entry. + +"I did not know," said she, "but I am so glad to know it. She is the +sweetest, purest, loveliest woman I have ever known, and your love is +what she needed to complete her happiness. She will be a saint now. I +will take good care of her, Mr. Sawyer, until you come again, for I love +her, too." + +Quincy pressed her hand warmly, and the next moment was in the little +street. He was a rich man, as the world judges riches, but to him his +greatest treasure was Alice's first kiss, still warm upon his lips. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVI. + +THEN THEY WERE MARRIED. + + +When he bade Alice good-by for a week, Quincy was keeping a promise he +had made to his father. The second evening before he had spent with his +family at Nahant, and while he was smoking an after-dinner cigar upon +the veranda, the Hon. Nathaniel had joined him. + +"Quincy," said the latter, "I must ask you when you intend to resume +your professional duties. You are now restored to health, and it is my +desire that you do so at once." + +"While I would not wilfully show disrespect to your wishes, father," +said Quincy, calmly, "I must say frankly that I do not care to go back +to the office. The study of law is repugnant to me, and its practice +would be a daily martyrdom." + +"What!" cried the Hon. Nathaniel, starting in his chair. "Perhaps, sir, +you have fixed upon a calling that is more elevated and ennobling than +the law." + +"One more congenial, at any rate," remarked Quincy. + +"Then you have chosen a profession," said his father with some +eagerness. "May I inquire what it is?" + +"It can hardly be called a profession," he answered. "I've bought a +third interest in a country grocery store." + +If the Hon. Nathaniel started before, this last piece of information +fairly brought him to his feet. "And may I inquire, sir," he thundered, +"if this special partnership in a country grocery store is the summit of +your ambitions? I suppose I shall hear next that you are engaged to some +farmer's daughter, and propose to marry her, regardless of the wishes +of your family, and despite the terrible example supplied by your Uncle +James." + +"It hasn't come to that yet," remarked Quincy, calmly, "but it may if I +find a farmer's daughter who comes up to my ideal of a wife and to whom +I can give an honest love." + +The Hon. Nathaniel sank back in his chair. Quincy continued, "I will not +try to answer your sarcastic reference to the grocery store. It is a +good investment and an honorable business, fully as honorable as +cheating the prison or the gallows of what is due them; but the summit +of my ambition is by no means reached. I am young yet and have plenty of +time to study the ground before expanding my career, but I will tell +you, privately and confidentially, that my friends have asked me to run +for the General Court, and I have about decided to stand as a candidate +for nomination as representative from our district." + +"I am glad to hear you say that, Quincy," said his father, somewhat +mollified, and he edged his arm-chair a little closer to his son, +despite the heavy clouds of smoke emitted from Quincy's cigar. "If you +get the regular nomination in our district it's tantamount to an +election. I need scarcely say that whatever influence I may possess will +be exerted in your favor." + +"Thank you," said Quincy; "I mean to stump the district, anyway. If I +lose the regular nomination I shall take an independent one. I had +rather fight my way in than be pushed in." + +His father smiled and patted him on the arm. Then they rose from their +chairs, Quincy observing that as he was going away early in the morning +he would immediately retire. + +"That reminds me," said his father. "I have a favor to ask of you, +Quincy. It is this, Lord Algernon Hastings, heir to the earldom of +Sussex, and his sister, Lady Elfrida, are now in Boston, and bring +letters from the Lord High Chancellor, with whom I became acquainted +when I was in England, two years ago. I have invited them to visit us +here next week, and my wish is that you will spend as much of your time +at home as possible and assist me in entertaining them--I mean the son, +of course, particularly." + +Quincy's thoughts flew quickly to Nantucket and back. Had he foreseen +what was to happen on his coming visit, he would have hesitated still +longer, but thinking that, after all, next Sunday's journey might not +end any more conclusively than the previous one, he presently turned to +his father and answered: + +"I will do so. I must go to-morrow, but I will return early on Monday, +and will stay at home the entire week." + +"I thank you very much, Quincy," said the Hon. Nathaniel, and he laid +his hand on his son's shoulder as affectionately as he was capable of +doing, when they entered the house. + +Lady Elfrida Hastings and her brother, Lord Algernon, arrived in due +season, and Quincy was there to assist at their reception. The former +was tall, and dark, and stately; her features were cast in a classic +mould, but the look in her eye was cold and distant, and the face, +though having all the requirements of beauty, yet lacked it. To Mrs. +Sawyer and her daughter, Florence, the Lady Elfrida was a revelation, +and they yearned to acquire that statuesque repose that comes so natural +to the daughter of an earl. But Maude told her brother that evening that +the Lady Elfrida was a "prunes and prisms," and was sure to die an old +maid. + +Lord Algernon was tall and finely built; he had a profusion of light +brown curly hair, and a pair of large blue eyes that so reminded Quincy +of Alice that he took to the young lord at once. They rode, played +billiards, bowled, and smoked together. + +One afternoon while they were enjoying a sail in the bay, Quincy +inquired of his guest how he liked America. + +"'Pon honor, my dear fellow, I don't know," replied Lord Algernon. "I +came here for a certain purpose, and have failed miserably. I am going +to sail for home in a week, if my sister will go." + +"Then you didn't come to enjoy the pleasures of travel?" remarked +Quincy, interrogatively. + +"No! By Jove, I didn't. My sister did, and she supposes I did. I'm going +to tell you the truth, Mr. Sawyer. I know you will respect my +confidence." Quincy nodded. + +"The fact is," Lord Algernon continued, "I came over here to find a girl +that I'm in love with, but who ran away from me as soon as I told her of +it." + +"But why?" asked Quincy, not knowing what else to say. + +"That's the deuce of it," replied Lord Algernon; "I sha'n't know till I +find her and ask her. I met her at Nice, in France; she was with her +mother, a Mdme. Archimbault; the daughter's name was Celeste--Celeste +Archimbault. They said they were not French, they were French Canadians; +came from America, you know. I was traveling as plain Algernon Hastings, +and I don't think she ever suspected I was the son of an earl. I +proposed one evening. She said she must speak to her mother, and if I +would come the next evening about seven o'clock, she would give me her +answer, and I thought by the look in her eye that she herself was +willing to say 'Yes' then. But when I called the next evening they had +both gone, no one knew where." + +"You are sure she was not an adventuress?" inquired Quincy. "Excuse the +question, my lord, but you really knew nothing about her?" + +"I knew that I loved her," said Lord Algernon, bluntly, "and I would +give half of my fortune to find her. I know she was a true, pure, +beautiful girl, and her mother was as honest an old lady as you could +find in the world." + +"I wish I could help you," remarked Quincy. + +"Thank you," said Lord Algernon; "perhaps you may be able to some day. +Don't forget her name, Celeste Archimbault; she is slight in figure, +graceful in her carriage, ladylike in her manners. She has dark hair, +large, dreamy black eyes, with a hidden sorrow in them; in fact, a very +handsome brunette. Here is my card, Mr. Sawyer. I will write my London +address on it, and if you ever hear of her, cable me at once and I'll +take the next steamer for America." + +Quincy said that he would, and put the card in his cardcase. + +He excused himself to Lord Algernon and his sister that evening; a prior +engagement made it necessary for him to leave for Boston early next +morning, and the farewells were then spoken. Lord Algernon's last words +to Quincy were whispered in his ear, "Don't forget her name--Celeste +Archimbault!" + +The next Sunday morning Quincy and Leopold, as they approached Mrs. +Gibson's house on the Cliff, found Rosa Very standing at the little +gate. She had on the white dress that she had worn the Sunday before, +but which Leopold had not seen. Upon her head was a wide-brimmed straw +hat, decked with ribbons and flowers, which intensified the darkness of +her hair and eyes." + +"Don't forget her name--Celeste Archimbault," came into Quincy's mind, +but he said, "Nonsense," to himself, and dismissed the thought. + +"All ready for a walk on the Cliff?" asked Leopold, as he raised his hat +and extended his hand to Rosa. She shook hands with him and then with +Quincy. She opened the little gate, placed her hand on Leopold's arm and +they walked on up the Cliff Road. + +As Quincy entered the little parlor, Alice sprang toward him with a cry +of joy. He caught her in his arms, and this time one kiss did not +suffice, for a dozen were pressed on hair and brow and cheek and lips. + +"It is so long since you went away," said Alice. + +"Only one short week," replied Quincy. + +"Short! Those six days have seemed longer than all the time we were +together at Eastborough. I cannot let you go away from me again," she +cried. + +"Stay with Me, My Darling, Stay," sang Quincy, in a low voice, and Alice +tried to hide her blushing face upon his shoulder. + +Then they sat down and talked the matter over. "I must leave you," said +Quincy, "and only see you occasionally, and then usually in the presence +of others, unless--" + +"Unless what?" cried Alice, and a sort of frightened look came into her +face. + +"Unless you marry me at once," said Quincy. "I don't mean this minute; +say Wednesday of this coming week. I have a license with me I got in +Boston yesterday morning. We'll be married quietly in this little room, +in which you first told me that you loved me. We could be married in a +big church in Boston, with bridesmaids, and groomsmen, and music on a +big organ. We could make as big a day of it as they did down to +Eastborough." + +"Oh, no!" said Alice; "I couldn't go through that. I cannot see well +enough, and I might make some terrible blunder. I might trip and fall, +and then I should be so nervous and ashamed." + +"I will not ask you to go through such an ordeal, my dearest. I know +that we could have all these grand things, and for that reason, if for +no better one, I'm perfectly willing to go without them. No, Alice, we +will be married here in this room. We will deck it with flowers," +continued Quincy. "Leopold will go to Boston to-morrow and get them. +Rosamond's Bower was not sweeter nor more lovely than we will make this +little room. I will get an old clergyman; I don't like young ones; +Leopold shall be my best man and Rosa shall be your bridesmaid. Mrs. +Gibson and her brother, who I see is still here, shall be our witnesses, +and we will have Tommy and Dolly for ushers." + +Both laughed aloud in their childish glee at the picture that Quincy +had painted. "I could ask for nothing better," said Alice; "the ceremony +will be modest, artistic, and idyllic." + +"And economical, too," Quincy added with a laugh. + +And so it came to pass! They were married, and the transformation in the +little room, that Quincy and Alice had seen in their mind's eye, was +realized to the letter. Flowers, best man, bridesmaid, witnesses, +ushers, and the aged clergyman, with whitened locks, who called them his +children, and blessed them and wished them long life and happiness, +hoped that they would meet and know each other some day in the +infinite--all were there. + +This was on Wednesday. On Thursday came a letter from Aunt Ella. It +contained the most kindly congratulations, and a neat little wedding +present of a check for fifty thousand dollars. She wrote further that +she was lonesome and wanted somebody to read to her, and talk to her, +and sing to her. If the book was done, would not Miss Very come to spend +the remainder of the season with her, and if Mr. Ernst was there could +he not spare time to escort Miss Very. + +That same evening Leopold received a letter from Mr. Morton. It simply +read, "Blennerhassett accepted; will be put in type at once and issued +by the first of November, perhaps sooner." + +The next morning Leopold and Rosa started for Old Orchard, and the +lovers were left alone to pass their honeymoon, with the blue sea about +them, the blue sky above them, and a love within their hearts which grew +stronger day by day. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVII. + +LINDA'S BIRTHRIGHT. + + +For Quincy and Alice, day after day, and week after week, found them in +a state of complete happiness. The little island floating in the azure +sea was their world, and for the time, no thought of any other intruded +upon their delightful Eden. It seemed to Quincy all a blissful dream of +love, and everything he looked upon was wreathed in flowers and golden +sunshine. + +But lotus land is not so far distant from the abodes of mortal man but +that his emissaries may reach it. The first jarring note in the sweet +harmony of their married life came in the form of a letter from Dr. +Culver, who wrote to remind Quincy that it would soon be time to start +in ploughing the political field. Quincy's reply was brief and to the +point. + +"MY DEAR CULVER:--I will see you in Boston on the tenth +of September. Q.A.S." + +When Aunt Ella learned that her nephew was going to town, she made +hurried preparations for her departure from Old Orchard, and wrote to +him insisting that he and Alice should come and stay with her. This +invitation they gladly accepted, Quincy arranging in his mind to explain +matters to his family by saying that, as he had now entered politics and +would necessarily have a great many callers to entertain, he thought it +best to make his headquarters with Aunt Ella until the campaign was +over. + +Accordingly, the ninth of September saw them located at Mt Vernon +Street. On the very day of their arrival, proof of the remaining +stories and a large instalment of Blennerhassett reached them, with a +note from Ernst: + +"Please rush. Press is waiting." + +Miss Very's assistance was now absolutely necessary, but when Quincy +asked Leopold for her address, he was surprised at the reply he +received. + +"I haven't seen her," said Leopold, "since we came back from Old Orchard +together. In fact, since that time, our relations, for some reason or +other, have undergone a great change. However, I think I can help you +out. I don't believe in keeping a good friend like you, Quincy, in +suspense, so I will tell you the truth. I am married. My wife is fully +as competent to assist Mrs. Sawyer as Miss Very would have been. She is +in the library now at work. I will go and ask her." + +He entered the room, closing the door behind him. Quincy threw himself +rather discontentedly into a chair. He fancied he heard laughing in the +next room, but he knew Alice would be disappointed, and he himself felt +in no mood for laughter. + +Leopold opened the library door. "Quincy, I've induced her to undertake +the task," he said. "Do spare a moment from your work, Mrs. Ernst; I +wish to introduce to you Mr. Quincy Adams Sawyer, the husband of the +author of that coming literary sensation, Blennerhassett. Mr. Sawyer," +he continued, "allow me to present you to my wife, Mrs. Rosa Ernst." And +as he said this, Leopold and Rosa stood side by side in the doorway. + +"When did you do it?" finally ejaculated Quincy, rushing forward and +grasping each by the hand. "Leopold, I owe you one." And then they all +laughed together. + +By some means, Dr. Culver said by the liberal use of money, Barker +Dalton secured the regular nomination from Quincy's party. The latter +kept his word and entered the field as an independent candidate. A hot +contest followed. The papers were full of the speeches of the opposing +candidates, and incidents connected with their lives. But in none +relating to Quincy was a word said about his marriage, and the fact was +evidently unknown, except to a limited few. When the polls closed on +election day and the vote was declared, it was found that Sawyer had a +plurality of two hundred and twenty-eight and a clear majority of +twenty-two over both Dalton and Burke, the opposing candidates. Then the +papers were full of compliments for Mr. Sawyer, who had so successfully +fought corruption and bribery in his own party, and won such a glorious +victory. + +But Quincy never knew that the Hon. Nathaniel Adams Sawyer had used all +his influence to secure his son's election, and for every dollar +expended by Dalton, the Hon. Nathaniel had covered it with a two or five +if necessary. + +The publication of Blennerhassett had been heralded by advance notices +that appeared in the press during the month of October. + +These notices had been adroitly written. Political prejudices, one +notice said, would no doubt be aroused by statements made in the book, +and one newspaper went so far as to publish a double-leaded editorial +protesting against the revival of party animosities buried more than two +generations ago. The leaven worked, and when the book was placed in the +stores on the eleventh of November, the demand for it was unparalleled. +Orders came for it from all parts of the country, particularly from the +State of New York, and the resources of the great publishing house of +Hinckley, Morton, & Co. were taxed to the utmost to meet the demand. + +While Quincy was fighting Dalton in the political field, another +campaign was being planned in the clever diplomatic brain of Aunt Ella. +It related to the introduction of Alice, the "farmer's daughter," to the +proud patrician family of Sawyer, as Quincy's wife--no easy matter to +accomplish satisfactorily, as all agreed. + +The initial step was taken a couple of weeks after Thanksgiving, when a +daintily-engraved card was issued from Mt. Vernon Street, which read: + +"Your company is respectfully requested on the evening of the tenth of +December at a reception to be given to Bruce Douglas, the author of +Blennerhassett." + +One evening, Quincy ran up the steps of the Mt. Vernon Street house. He +opened the door and started to run up the stairs to his wife's room, as +was his custom, when he came into collision with a young lady, who, upon +closer inspection, he found to be his sister Maude. + +"Come in here," she said. She grasped him by the arm, and, dragging him +into the parlor, she closed the door behind him. + +"Oh, Mr. Man!" she cried, "I've found you out, but horses sha'n't drag +it out of me. No, Quincy, you're always right, and I won't peach. But +'twas mean not to tell me." + +Quincy looked at her in voiceless astonishment. "What do you mean, +Maude, and where did you gather up all that slang?" + +"I might ask you," said Maude, "where you found your wife. I've been +talking to her upstairs. She must have thought that papa and mamma knew +all about it, for she told me who she was, just as easy. Who is she, +Quincy?" + +He drew his sister down beside him on a sofa. "She was Miss Mary Alice +Pettengill. She is now known to a limited few, of which you, sister +Maude, are one, as Mrs. Mary Alice Sawyer; but she is known to a wide +circle of readers as Bruce Douglas, the author of many popular stories, +as also of that celebrated book entitled Blennerhassett." + +"Is that so?" cried Maude; "why, papa is wild over that book. He's been +reading it aloud to us evenings, and he said last night that that young +man--you hear, Quincy?--that young man, had brought the truth to the +surface at last." + +"Now, Maude," said Quincy, "you go right home and keep your mouth shut a +little while longer, and when you are sixteen"--"the ninth of next +January," broke in Maude--"I'll give you a handsome gold watch, with my +picture in it." + +"I don't have to be paid to keep your secrets, Quincy," replied Maude +archly, as Quincy kissed her. + +"I know it, dear," said Quincy; "I'll give you the watch, not as pay, +but to show my gratitude." + +Quincy took an early opportunity to explain to his wife his remissness +in not informing his parents of his marriage, and disclosed to her Aunt +Ella's plan. + +On the tenth, Mrs. Chessman's spacious parlor was thronged from nine +till eleven o'clock with bright and shining lights, representing the +musical, artistic, literary, and social culture of Boston. Among the +guests were the Hon. Nathaniel Adams Sawyer, his wife, and his +daughters, Florence and Maude. The surprise of the visitors at the +discovery that Bruce Douglas was a young woman was followed by one of +great pleasure at finding her beautiful and affable. + +The reception and entertainment were acknowledged on all sides to have +been most successful, and a thoroughly pleased and satisfied company had +spoken their farewells to author and hostess by quarter-past eleven. So, +when Quincy came up Walnut Street and glanced across at his aunt's +house, a little before twelve, he found the windows dark and the +occupants, presumably, in their beds. + +As part of her plan, Quincy had been advised by Aunt Ella to stay away +from the reception, to spend the night at his father's house, and to be +sure and take breakfast with them, so as to hear what was said about the +previous evening. + +As soon as the morning meal was over, Quincy ran quickly upstairs, +seized his hand-bag, which he always kept packed, ready for an +emergency, and in a very short space of time, reached Mt. Vernon Street. +He found his wife and aunt in the den. The latter was reading a +manuscript to Alice. + +As soon as the greetings were over, and a little time given to +discussing the reception, Quincy asked: "Who is this Mr. Fernborough +that Maude told me about this morning?" + +"He is an English gentleman," explained Alice, "who has come to this +country to see if he can find any trace of an only daughter, who ran +away from home with an American more than thirty years ago, and who, he +thinks, came to this country with her husband. His wife is dead, he is +alone in the world, and he is ready to forgive her and care for her, if +she needs it." + +"He hasn't hurried himself about it, has he?" said Quincy; "but why did +he come to you?" + +"That's the strange part of it," Alice replied, "He said he +thoughtlessly picked up a magazine at a hotel where he was staying, and +his eye fell upon my story, How He Lost Both Name and Fortune. He read +it, and sought me out, to ask if it were fiction, or whether it was +founded on some true incident. He was quite disappointed when I told him +it was entirely a work of the imagination." + +"Did he say what hotel?" asked Quincy. + +"No," replied Alice; "but why are you so interested in a total +stranger?" + +Then Quincy told the story of the broken envelope--the little piece of +cloth--and the name, Linda Fernborough. + +"I must find him at once," said he, "for I have an impression that his +daughter must have been Lindy Putnam's real mother. You gave me my +reward, Alice, before my quest was successful, but I gave my word to +find her for you, and I shall not consider myself fully worthy of you +till that word is kept." + +"But what did your father and mother say?" broke in Aunt Ella. + +"My father took me to task," began Quincy, "for not being present at the +reception, but I told him I had to see Culver on some political +business. Then he remarked that I missed a very pleasant evening. He +complimented Aunt Ella, here, for her skill as an entertainer, and +expressed his surprise that Bruce Douglas, instead of being a young man, +was a young and very beautiful woman. Yes, Aunt Ella, he actually called +my wife here a very beautiful young woman." + +"That is a capital beginning!" cried Aunt Ella. "Go on, Quincy." + +"In order to continue the conversation, I ventured the remark that Bruce +Douglas came from an ordinary country family and one not very well off; +for which aspersion, I humbly ask your pardon, Mrs. Sawyer. Father +replied that he thought that I must have been misinformed; that Bruce +Douglas was worth fifty thousand dollars in her own right, and he added +that she would become a very wealthy woman if she kept up her literary +activity." + +"What did sister Sarah say?" asked Aunt Ella. + +"Well," said Quincy, "I resolved to do something desperate, so I asked: +'Doesn't she look countrified?' again asking your pardon, Mrs. Sawyer." + +"No," said mother, "she has the repose of a Lady Clara Vere de Vere, and +is as correct in her speech as was the Lady Elfrida Hastings." + +"It will come out all right," cried Aunt Ella; and Quincy, kissing his +aunt and wife, and promising to write or telegraph every day, caught up +his hand-bag and started forth in search of the Hon. Stuart Fernborough, +M.P. + +When Quincy left his aunt's house he had not the slightest idea which +way would be the best to turn his footsteps. He commenced his search, +however, at the Revere House, then he tried the American House, but at +neither place was Mr. Fernborough a guest. + +At the Quincy House the clerk was busy with a number of new arrivals. He +had just opened a new hotel register, and the old one lay upon the +counter. Quincy took it up, and turning over the leaves, glanced up and +down its pages. Suddenly he started back; then, holding the book closer +to his eyes he read it again. There it was, under the date of September +10, "Mdme. Rose Archimbault and daughter." The residence given in the +proper column was "New York." Quincy kept the book open at the place +where he found this entry until the clerk was at leisure. He remembered +Mdme. Archimbault and daughter in a general way. He was sure that they +arrived from Europe the day that they came to the hotel, and he was +equally sure that they went to New York when they left. What made him +positive was that he remembered asking the young lady when she wrote New +York in the register if she had not just returned from Europe. She said +yes, but that her home residence was in New York. + +Quincy thanked the clerk, and started forth again in search of the +elusive Mr. Fernborough. A visit to Young's, Parker's, and the Tremont +furnished no clue, and Quincy was wondering whether his search, after +all, was destined to be fruitless, when he thought of a small hotel in +Central Court, which led from Washington Street, a little south of +Summer Street. + +It was noted for its English roast beef, Yorkshire mutton chops, and +musty ale, and might be just the sort of place that an English gentleman +would put up at, provided he had been informed of its whereabouts. + +On his way Quincy dropped into the Marlborough, but Mr. Fernborough had +not been there, and Quincy imagined that the little hotel in Central +Court was his last hope. + +His persistence was rewarded. Mr. Fernborough was not only a guest, but +he was in his room. Quincy sent up his card, and in a very short time +was shown into the presence of a courtly gentleman, between sixty and +seventy years of age. His face was smooth shaven, and had a firm but not +hard expression. His eyes, however, showed that he was weighed down by +some sorrow, which the unyielding expression of his face indicated that +he would bear in silence rather than seek sympathy from others. + +Quincy's story was soon told. The old gentleman listened with breathless +interest, and when at the close Quincy said, "What do you think?" Mr. +Fernborough cried, "It must be she, my daughter's child. There are no +other Fernboroughs in England, and Linda has been a family name for +generations. Heaven bless you, young man, for your kindly interest, and +take me to my grandchild at once. She is the only tie that binds me to +earth. All the others are dead and gone." + +The old gentleman broke down completely, and for several minutes was +unable to speak. + +Quincy waited until his emotion had somewhat subsided. Then he said, "I +am at your service, sir; we will do our best to find her. I have a +feeling that she is in New York, but not a single fact to prove it. We +can take the one o'clock train, if you desire." + +The old gentleman began at once to prepare for the journey. Quincy told +him he would meet him at the hotel office, and from there he sent a note +to Aunt Ella informing her of his intended departure. + +Arriving in New York they were driven at once to the Fifth Avenue Hotel. +Quincy prevailed upon Sir Stuart to retire at once, telling him that he +would prepare an advertisement and have it in the next morning's issue +of the "New York Herald." + +Quincy wrote out two advertisements and sent them by special messenger +to the newspaper office. The first one read: "Linda: important paper +not destroyed, as suspected. Communicate at once with Eastborough, +'Herald' office." The second was worded as follows: "Celeste A----t: an +American friend has a message for you from me. Send your address at once +to Eastborough, 'Herald' office. ALGERNON H." + +Then began the days of weary waiting; the careful examination of the +"Herald" each morning, to be sure that the advertisements were in, for +both had been paid for a week in advance. The request for mail made +every morning at the "Herald" office received a stereotyped "no" for +answer; then he vowed that he would advertise no more, but would enlist +other aids in the search. + +On the morning of the eighth day Quincy stood upon the steps of the +Fifth Avenue Hotel. He was undecided which way to go. It is in such +cases of absolute uncertainty that unseen powers should give their aid, +if they ever do, for then it is most needed. He did not hear any angels' +voices, but he crossed over Broadway and started up town on the +right-hand side of that great thoroughfare. As he walked on he glanced +at the shop windows, for they were resplendent with holiday gifts, for +Christmas was only one short week away. + +Just beyond the corner of Broadway and Twenty-ninth Street his attention +was attracted by a wax figure in a milliner's window. The face and +golden hair reminded him of his wife, and he thought how pretty Alice +would look in the hat that was upon the head of the figure. His first +inclination was to go in and buy it, then he thought that it would make +an unhandy package to carry with him, and besides his taste might not be +appreciated. + +Thinking, however, that he might return and purchase it, he glanced up +at the sign. One look and he gave a sudden start backward, coming +violently in contact with a gentleman who was passing. Quincy's apology +was accepted and the gentleman passed on, giving his right shoulder an +occasional pressure to make sure that it was not dislocated. Then Quincy +took another look at the sign to make sure that he had not been +mistaken. On it he read, in large golden letters, "Mdme. Archimbault." + +It was but the work of an instant for Quincy to enter the store and +approach the only attendant, who was behind the counter nearest the +door. + +"Could I see Mdme. Archimbault?" he inquired in the politest possible +manner. + +"Ze madame eez seeck zis morning, monsieur, mais ze Mademoiselle Celeste +eez in ze boudoir." + +As she said this she pointed to a partition with windows of ground +glass, which extended across the farther end of the store, evidently +forming a private department for trying on hats and bonnets. Quincy said +nothing, but taking out his cardcase passed one to the attendant. + +The girl walked towards the boudoir, opened the door and entered. Quincy +followed her, and was but a few feet from the door when it was closed. +He heard a woman's voice say, "What is it, Hortense?" And the girl's +reply was distinctly audible. This is what she said, "A veezitor, +mademoiselle." + +An instant's silence, followed by a smothered cry of astonishment, +evidently from mademoiselle. Then ensued a short conversation, carried +on in whispers. Then Hortense emerged from the boudoir, and facing +Quincy said, "Ze mademoiselle weel not zee you. She has no desire to +continue ze acquaintance." + +As she said this she stepped behind the counter, evidently thinking that +Quincy would accept the rebuff and depart. Instead of doing this he took +a step forward, which brought him between Hortense and the door of the +boudoir. Turning to the girl he said in a low tone, "There must be some +mistake. I have never met Mademoiselle Archimbault. I will go in and +explain the purpose of my visit." And before Hortense could prevent him, +Quincy had entered the boudoir and closed the door behind him. + +In the centre of the room stood a beautifully carved and inlaid table. +Before it sat an elegantly-dressed woman, whose hair, artistically +arranged, was of the darkest shade of brown--almost black. Her arms were +crossed upon the table, her face was buried in them, and from her came a +succession of convulsive sobs, that indicated she was in great physical +or mental distress. + +Quincy felt that she knew he was there, but he did not speak. + +Finally she said, and there was a tone of deep suffering in her voice: +"Oh! Algernon, why have you followed me? I can never, never marry you. +If it had been possible I would have met you that evening, as I +promised." + +The thought flashed across Quincy's mind, "This is the girl that ran +away from Lord Hastings. But why did she call me Algernon?" Then he +spoke for the first time. "Mademoiselle, there is some misunderstanding; +my name is not Algernon. I am not Lord Hastings." + +As he spoke he looked at the woman seated at the table. She looked up; +there was an instantaneous, mutual recognition. In her astonishment she +cried out, "Mr. Sawyer!" + +As these words fell from her lips, Quincy said to himself, "Thank God! +she's found at last." But the only words that he spoke aloud were, +"Lindy Putnam!" + +"Why do I find you here," asked Quincy, "and under this name? Why have +you not answered my advertisements in the 'Herald?'" And he sank into a +chair on the other side of the little table. + +The revulsion of feeling was so great at his double discovery that he +came nearer being unmanned than ever before in his life. + +"How did you come by this card!" asked Mademoiselle Archimbault in a +broken voice. "When you have explained, I will answer your questions." + +Quincy took the card from her hand and glanced at it. "What a big +blunder I made and yet what a fortunate one," cried he, for he now saw +that he had sent in Lord Hastings's card bearing the London address. +"Lord Hastings himself gave it to me," he continued. "He was a guest at +my father's cottage at Nahant last summer. He came to America and spent +three months vainly searching for you. He loves you devotedly, and made +me promise that if I ever found you I would cable at once to the address +on that card, and he said he would come to America on the next steamer. +Of course when I made that promise I did not know that Lindy Putnam and +Celeste Archimbault were one and the same person." + +"But knowing it as you now do, Mr. Sawyer, you will not send him any +word. Give me your solemn promise you will not. I cannot marry him. You +know I cannot. There is no Lindy Putnam, and Celeste Archimbault has no +right to the name she bears." + +"Did you come to New York when you left Eastborough, as you promised you +would?" inquired Quincy. + +"No, I did not, Mr. Sawyer," said she. "Forgive me, but I could not. I +was distracted, almost heartbroken when I reached Boston the day she +died. She had robbed me of all hope of ever finding my relatives, and +but for my hatred of her I believe I would have had brain fever. One +thing I could not do, I would not do. I would not remain in America. I +was rich, I would travel and try to drown my sorrow and my hatred. I did +not go to a hotel, for I did not wish any one to find me. What good +could it do? I looked in the 'Transcript' and found a boarding place. +There I met Mdme. Archimbault, a widow, a French-Canadian lady, who had +come to Boston in search of a niece who had left her home in Canada some +five years before. Mdme. Archimbault had spent all the money she had in +her unavailing search for her relative, and she told me, with tears in +her eyes and expressive French gestures, that she would have to sell her +jewelry to pay her board, as she had no way of making a living in a +foreign land. Then I told her part of my story. She was sure her niece +was dead, and so I asked her to be my mother, to let me take her name +and be known as her daughter. I told her I was rich and that I would +care for her as long as our compact was kept and the real truth not +known. My visit to Nice and my meeting with Algernon Hastings, he has no +doubt told you. I did not know he was a lord, but I suspected it. So +much the more reason why he should not marry a nameless waif, a poor +girl with no father or mother and all hope lost of ever finding them. I +came back to America with Mdme. Archimbault, covering my tracks by cross +journeys and waits which he could not anticipate. We landed in Boston." + +"I found your names in the Quincy House register," remarked Quincy. + +"I don't think I could escape from you as easily as I did from him," she +said, the first faint sign of a smile showing itself upon her face. "I +went to my bankers in Boston and told them that I had been adopted by a +wealthy French lady named Archimbault. I informed them that we were +going to return to France at once. They made up my account, and I found +I was worth nearly one hundred and forty thousand dollars. I took my +fortune in New York drafts, explaining that madame wished to visit +relatives in New York, and that we should sail for France from that +port. I did this so my bankers could not disclose my whereabouts to any +one. We came here, but I could not remain idle. I always had a natural +taste for millinery work, so I proposed to madame that we should open a +store under her name. We did this late in September, and have had great +success since our opening day. Now you know all about me, Mr. Sawyer. +Give me your promise that you will not tell Lord Hastings where I am." + +"Then," said Quincy, "you do not know why I am here." + +"To keep your word to Lord Hastings, I presume. What other reason could +you have?" + +"Then you have not read the Personal Column in the 'New York Herald?'" +Quincy inquired. + +"No," said she. "Why should I?" + +Quincy took a copy of the paper from his pocket, laid it upon the table +and pointed with his finger to the word "Linda." She read the +advertisement, then looked up to him with distended eyes, full of +questioning. + +"What does the paper say? It could not have disclosed much or you would +not have waited so long to tell me." + +Then Quincy related the story of the sealed package, how it had been +given to Alice Pettengill long before Mrs. Putnam died; how Miss +Pettengill had sworn to destroy it, but would not when she learned that +it might possibly contain information relating to her parents. He told +her that Miss Pettengill would not allow any one to read it but herself; +and how he had promised to search for her until he found her. Then he +related the incident at the lawyer's office and the piece of cloth +bearing the name, "Linda Fernborough," "which," said Quincy, "I think +must have been your mother's maiden name." He did not tell her of the +old gentleman only five blocks away, ready and willing to claim her as +his granddaughter without further proof than that little piece of doth. + +Quincy looked at his watch. "I have just time," said he, "to get the one +o'clock train for Boston. I will obtain the papers to-morrow morning, +and be in New York again to-morrow night. The next morning early I will +be at your residence with the papers, and let us hope that they will +contain such information as will disclose your parentage and give you a +name that you can rightfully bear." + +She wrote her home address on a card and passed it to him. + +He gave her hand a quick, firm pressure and left the store, not even +glancing at Hortense, who gazed at him with wonderment. He hailed a +hack and was driven to the hotel. He found Sir Stuart and told him that +he had found his supposed granddaughter, but that he must wait until he +returned from Boston with the papers, that his wife's feelings must be +respected, and that the document could only be opened and read by the +person who had been known to her as Lindy Putnam. + +Quincy reached Mt. Vernon Street about eight o'clock that evening. His +wife and aunt listened eagerly to the graphic recital of his search. He +pictured the somewhat sensational episode in the boudoir in the most +expressive language, and Alice remarked that Quincy was fast gathering +the materials for a most exciting romance; while Aunt Ella declared that +the disclosure of the dual personality of Linda and Celeste would form a +most striking theatrical tableau. + +Aunt Ella informed him that she had been requested by Mr. and Mrs. +Nathaniel Adams Sawyer to extend an invitation to Miss Bruce Douglas to +dine with them on any day that might be convenient for her. "I was +included in the invitation, of course," Aunt Ella added. "What day had +we better fix, Quincy?" she inquired. + +"Make it Christmas," replied Quincy. "Tell them Miss Bruce Douglas has +invitations for every other day but that for a month to come. What a +precious gift I shall present to my father," said he, caressing his +wife, who laid her fair head upon his shoulder. + +"Do you think he will be pleased?" asked Alice. + +"I don't know which will please him most," replied Quincy, "the fact +that such a talented addition has been made to the family, or the +knowledge, which will surely surprise him, that his son was smart enough +to win such a prize." + +The next morning Quincy arose early and was at Curtis Carter's office as +soon as it was opened. Alice had signed an order for the delivery of the +package to him and he presented it to Mr. Carter's clerk, to whom he +was well known. The ponderous doors of the big safe were thrown open and +the precious document was produced. When the clerk passed the package to +him and took Alice's order therefor, Quincy noticed that a five-dollar +bill was pinned to the envelope; a card was also attached to the bill, +upon which was written: "This money belongs to Mr. Quincy Sawyer; he +dropped it the last time he was in the office." + +Quincy would not trust the package to his hand-bag, but placed it in an +inside pocket of his coat, which he tightly buttoned. After leaving the +lawyer's office he dropped into Grodjinski's, and purchased a box of +fine cigars. He had the clerk tack one of his cards on the top of the +box. On this he wrote: + +"MY DEAR CURTIS:--Keep the ashes for me; they make +good tooth powder. QUINCY." + +The box was then done up and addressed to Curtis Carter, Esq., the clerk +promising to have it delivered at once. + +Quincy had found a letter at his aunt's from Mr. Strout, asking him to +buy a line of fancy groceries and confectionery for Christmas trade, and +it was noon before he had attended to the matter to his complete +satisfaction. A hasty lunch and he was once more on his way to New York, +and during the trip his hand sought the inside pocket of his coat a +score of times, that he might feel assured that the precious document +was still there. + +Arriving, Quincy proceeded at once to the Fifth Avenue Hotel. Sir Stuart +was eagerly awaiting his arrival, and his first question was, "Have you +the papers?" + +Quincy took the package from his pocket and placed it on the table +before him, remarking as he did so, "It must not be opened until +to-morrow morning, and then by the young lady herself." + +The old man pushed the package away from him and turned a stern face +toward Quincy. "I yield obedience," said he, "to your wife's command, +but if one man or two stood now between me and my darling's child, I +would have their lives, if they tried to keep her from my arms for one +instant even." + +After a little reflection he apologized for his vehement language, and +sought his room to think, and hope, and wait--but not to sleep. + +The next morning, a little before nine o'clock, a carriage containing +two gentlemen stopped before a modest brick dwelling in West Forty-first +Street. A servant admitted them and showed them into the little parlor. +The room was empty. Quincy pointed to a sofa at the farther end of the +room, and Sir Stuart took a seat thereon. Quincy stepped into the entry +and greeted Celeste, who was just descending the stairs. + +"Sir Stuart Fernborough is in your parlor," said he; "he may be, and I +hope to Heaven he is, your grandfather, but you must control your +feelings until you know the truth. Come and sit by me, near the window, +and read what is written in this package, so loud that he can hear every +word." As he said this he placed the package, which might or might not +prove her honorable heritage, in her hands. + +They entered the room and took seats near the window. Celeste opened the +package with trembling fingers. As she did so that little telltale piece +of cloth, bearing the name "Linda Fernborough," once more fell upon the +floor. Quincy picked it up, and held it during the reading of the +letter, for a letter it proved to be. + +It had no envelope, but was folded in the old-fashioned way, so as to +leave a blank space on the back of the last sheet for the address. The +address was, "Mr. Silas Putnam, Hanover, New Hampshire." + +Celeste began to read in a clear voice: "Dear brother Silas." + +"Is there no date?" asked Quincy. + +"Oh, yes," replied Celeste, "March 18, 183--." + +"Thirty years ago," said Quincy. + +Celeste read on: + +"DEAR BROTHER SILAS:--You will, no doubt, be surprised to find I +am in this town when I usually go to Gloucester or Boston, but the truth +is I had a strange adventure during my last fishing trip on the Polly +Sanders, and I thought I would come into port as close to you as I +could. About ten days ago I had a good catch on the Banks and sailed for +home, bound for Boston. A heavy fog came up, and we lay to for more than +twenty-four hours. During the night, heard cries, and my mate, Jim +Brown, stuck to it that some ship must have run ashore; and he was +right, for when the fog lifted we saw the masts of a three-master +sticking out of water, close on shore, and about a mile from where we +lay. We up sail and ran down as close as we dared to see if there was +anybody living on the wreck. We couldn't see anybody, but I sent out Jim +Brown with a boat to make a thorough search. In about an hour he came +back, bringing a half-drowned woman and just the nicest, chubbiest, +little black-eyed girl baby that you ever saw in your life. Jim said the +woman was lashed to a spar, and when he first saw her, there was a man +in the water swimming and trying to push the spar towards the land, but +before he reached him the man sunk and he didn't get another sight of +him." + +"Oh, my poor father!" cried Celeste. The letter dropped from her hands +and the tears rushed into her eyes. + +"Shall I finish reading it?" asked Quincy, picking up the letter. + +Celeste nodded, and he read on: + +"I gave the woman some brandy and she came to long enough to tell me who +she was. She said her name was Linda Chester or Chessman, I couldn't +tell just which. Her husband's name was Charles, and he was an artist. +He had a brother in Boston named Robert, and they were on their way to +that city. The wrecked ship was the Canadian Belle, bound from Liverpool +to Boston. I didn't tell her her husband was drowned. I gave her some +more brandy and she came to again and said her husband left a lot of +pictures in London with Roper & Son, on Ludgate Hill. I asked her where +she came from and she said from Heathfield, in Sussex. She said no more +and we couldn't bring her to again. She died in about an hour and we +buried her at sea. I noticed that her nightdress had a name stamped on +it different from what she gave me, and so I cut it out and send it in +this letter. Now, I've heard you and Heppy say that if you could find a +nice little girl baby that you would adopt her and bring her up. I sold +out my cargo at Portland, and so I've put in here, and I'll stay till +you and Heppy have time to drive down here and make up your minds +whether you'll take this handsome little baby off my hands. Come right +along, quick, for I must be off to the Banks again soon. From your +brother, + +OBED PUTNAM, +Captain of the Polly Sanders. +"Portsmouth Harbor, N.H. + +"P.S. The baby was a year old the eighth of last January. Its name is +Linda Fernborough Chessman." + +The tears had welled up again in the young girl's eyes, when Quincy read +of the death of her mother and her burial at sea. His own hand trembled +perceptibly when he realized that the young woman before him, though not +his cousin, was yet connected by indisputable ties of relationship to +his own aunt, Mrs. Ella Chessman. Following his usual habit of reticence +he kept silence, thinking that it would be inappropriate to detract in +any way from the happy reunion of grandfather and granddaughter. + +Sir Stuart had scarcely moved during the reading of the letter. He had +sat with his right hand covering his eyes, but yet evidently listening +attentively to each word as it fell from the reader's lips. As Quincy +folded up the letter and passed it back to Linda, Sir Stuart arose and +came forward to the front part of the room. Quincy took Linda's hand and +led her towards Mr. Fernborough. Then he said, "Sir Stuart, I think this +letter proves conclusively that this young lady's real name is Linda +Fernborough Chessman. I knew personally Mr. Silas Putnam, mentioned in +the letter, and scores of others can bear testimony that she has lived +nearly all her life with this Silas Putnam, and has been known to all as +his adopted daughter. There is no doubt but that the Linda Fernborough +who was buried at sea was her mother. If you are satisfied that Mrs. +Charles Chessman was your daughter, it follows that this young lady must +be your granddaughter." + +"There is no doubt of it in my mind," said Sir Stuart, taking both of +Linda's hands in his. "I live at Fernborough Hall, which is located in +Heathfield, in the county of Sussex. But, my dear, I did not know until +to-day that my poor daughter had a child, and it will take me just a +little time to get accustomed to the fact. Old men's brains do not act +as quickly as my young friend's here." As he said this he looked towards +Quincy. "But I am sure that we both of us owe to him a debt of gratitude +that it will be difficult for us ever to repay." + +The old gentleman drew Linda towards him and folded her tenderly in his +arms. "Come, rest here, my dear one," said he; "your doubts and hopes, +your troubles and trials, and your wanderings are over." He kissed her +on the forehead, and Linda put her arms about his neck and laid her head +upon his breast. + +"You are the only one united to me by near ties of blood in the world," +Sir Stuart continued, and he laid his hand on Linda's head and turned +her face towards him. "You have your mother's eyes," he said. "We will +go back to England, and Fernborough Hall will have a mistress once more. +You are English born, and have a right to sit in that seat which might +have been your mother's but for the pride and prejudice which thirty +years ago ruled both your grandmother and myself." + +Leaving them to talk over future plans, Quincy went back to the hotel +and wrote two letters. The first was addressed to Lord Algernon Hastings +in London. The other was a brief note to Aunt Ella, informing her that a +party of four would start for Boston on the morning train and that she +might expect them about four o'clock in the afternoon. + +It lacked but five minutes of that hour when a carriage, containing the +party from New York, stopped before the Mt. Vernon Street house. It +suited Quincy's purpose that his companions should first meet his wife, +although the fact that she was his wife was as yet unknown to them. + +The meeting between Alice and Linda was friendly, but not effusive. They +had been ordinary acquaintances in the old days at Eastborough, but now +a mutual satisfaction and pleasure drew them more closely together. + +"I have come," said Linda, "to thank you, Miss Pettengill, for your +kindness and justice to me. Few women would have disregarded the solemn +oath that Mrs. Putnam forced you to take, but by doing so you have given +me a lawful name and a life of happiness for the future. May every +blessing that Heaven can send to you be yours." + +"All the credit should not be given to me," replied Alice. "The morning +after Mrs. Putnam's death I was undecided in my mind which course to +follow, whether to destroy the paper or to keep it. It was a few words +from my Uncle Isaac that enabled me to decide the matter. He told me +that a promise made to the dead should not be carried out if it +interfered with the just rights of the living. So I decided to keep the +paper, but how? It was then that Mr. Sawyer came to the rescue and +pointed out to me the line of action, which I am truly happy to learn +has ended so pleasantly." + +"Grandpa and I have both thanked Mr. Sawyer so much," said Linda, "that +he will not listen to us any more, but I will write to Uncle Ike, for I +used to call him by that name, and show him that I am not ungrateful. I +have lost all my politeness, I am so happy," continued Linda; "I believe +you have met grandpa." + +Sir Stuart came forward, and, in courtly but concise language, expressed +his sincere appreciation of the kind service that Miss Pettengill had +rendered his granddaughter. + +Then Linda introduced Mdme. Archimbault as one who had been a true +friend and almost a mother to her in the hours of her deepest sorrow and +distress. + +"Now, my friends," said Quincy, "I have a little surprise for you +myself. I believe it my duty to state the situation frankly to you. My +father is a very wealthy man--a millionaire. He is proud of his wealth +and still more proud of the honored names of Quincy and Adams, which he +conferred upon me. Like all such fathers and mothers, my parents have +undoubtedly had bright dreams as to the future of their only son. One of +their dreams has, no doubt, been my marriage to some young lady of +honored name and great wealth. In such a matter, however, my own mind +must decide. I have acted without their knowledge, as I resolved to +deprive them of the pleasure of my wife's acquaintance until Christmas +day." + +Stepping up to Alice, Quincy took her hand and led her forward, facing +their guests. "I take great pleasure, my friends, in introducing to you +my wife, Mrs. Quincy Adams Sawyer." + +There came an exclamation of pleased surprise from Linda, followed by +congratulations from all, and while these were being extended, Aunt +Ella entered the room. She advanced to meet Sir Stuart, who had been +present at Alice's reception. Quincy introduced Mdme. Archimbault, and +then Aunt Ella turned towards Linda. "This is the young lady, I +believe," said she, "who has just found a long-lost relative, or rather, +has been found by him. You must be very happy, my dear, and it makes me +very happy to know that my nephew and niece, who are so dear to me, have +been instrumental in bringing this pleasure to you. But have you been +able to learn your mother's name? Quincy did not mention that in his +letter." + +"Yes," said Quincy, stepping forward, "the letter contained that +information, but I thought I would rather tell you about it than write +it. My dear aunt, allow me to introduce to you Miss Linda Fernborough +Chessman." + +"What!" cried Aunt Ella, starting back in astonishment. + +"Listen to me, Aunt Ella;" and taking her hand in his he drew her +towards him. "Your husband had a brother, Charles Chessman; he was an +artist and lived in England; while there he married; he wrote your +husband some thirty years ago that he was going to return to America, +but Uncle Robert, you told me, never heard from him again after +receiving the letter." + +"Yes, yes!" assented Aunt Ella; "I have the letter. But what is the +mystery, Quincy? You know I can bear anything but suspense." + +"There is no mystery, auntie, now; it is all cleared up. Uncle Robert's +brother Charles married Linda Fernborough, Sir Stuart's daughter. The +vessel in which father, mother, and child sailed for America was +wrecked. Father and mother were lost, but the child was rescued. This is +the child. Aunt Ella, Linda Chessman is your niece, but unfortunately I +am unable to call her cousin." + +Aunt Ella embraced Linda and talked to her as a mother might talk to her +daughter. Her delight at finding this relative of the husband whom she +had loved so well and mourned so sincerely, showed itself in face, and +voice, and action. Her hospitality knew no bounds. Linda must stay with +her a month at least, so must Sir Stuart and Mdme. Archimbault. It was +the holiday season, and they must all feast and be merry over this +happy, unexpected return. + +It was a joyous party that gathered in the dining-room at Aunt Ella's +house that evening. She said that such an occasion could not be fitly +celebrated with plain cold water, so a battle of choke old port was +served to Sir Stuart, and toasts to Mrs. Sawyer and Miss Chessman were +drunk from glasses filled with foaming champagne. + +Then all adjourned to Aunt Ella's room and Uncle Robert's prime cigars +were offered to Sir Stuart and Quincy. But Aunt Ella had too much to say +to think of her cigarette. For an hour conversation was general; +everybody took part in it. The events of the past year, which were of so +great interest to all present, were gone over, and when conversation +lagged it was because everybody knew everything that everybody else +knew. + +Quincy spent that night at his father's house. The next morning his +mother told him that the author had selected Christmas day on which to +be received by them at dinner, and that she was making unusual +preparations for that event. + +"I wish I could invite a few friends to meet her that day," said Quincy. + +"You may invite as many as you choose, Quincy, if you will promise to be +here yourself. You have been away from home so much the past year I +hardly anticipate the pleasure of your company on that day." + +"Have no fear, mother," Quincy said. "I wish very much to meet the +author that father and you are so greatly pleased with. Of course Aunt +Ella is coming?" + +"Certainly," answered his mother. "I understand that the author has been +stopping with her since the reception." + +"I shall invite five friends," said Quincy, "and you may depend upon +me." + +To his mother's surprise he gave her a slight embrace, a light kiss upon +her cheek, and was gone. + +The sun showed its cheerful face on Christmas morning. The snow that +fell a fortnight previous had been washed away by continued heavy rains. +A cold wind, biting, but healthful, quickened the pulse and brought +roses to the cheeks of holiday pedestrians. + +The programme for the meals on Christmas day had been arranged by Mrs. +Sawyer as follows: Breakfast at nine, dinner at one, and a light supper +at six. It had always been the rule in the Sawyer family to exchange +Christmas gifts at the breakfast hour. Quincy was present, and his +father, mother, and sisters thanked him for the valuable presents that +bore his card. Father, mother, and sisters, on their part, had not +forgotten Quincy, and the reunited family had the most enjoyable time +that they had experienced for a year. + +As Quincy rose to leave the table, he said to his mother, "I have +another gift for father and you, but it has not yet arrived. I am going +to see about it this morning." + +"You will be sure to come to dinner, Quincy," fell from his mother's +lips. + +"I promise you, mother," he replied. "I would not miss it for anything." + +A little after noontime, the Chessman carriage arrived at the Beacon +Street mansion of the Hon. Nathaniel Adams Sawyer, and a moment later +Mrs. Ella Chessman and the young author, Bruce Douglas, were ushered +into the spacious and elegant parlor. They were received by Mr. and Mrs. +Sawyer and their daughter Florence. + +Twenty minutes later a carriage arrived before the same mansion. Its +occupants were Sir Stuart Fernborough, his granddaughter, and Mdme. +Archimbault. A few minutes later Mr. and Mrs. Leopold Ernst appeared, +having walked the short distance from their rooms on Chestnut Street. +The new arrivals were presented to Mr. and Mrs. Sawyer by Mrs. Chessman, +and a pleasant ante-prandial conversation was soon under way. + +From behind the curtains of a second-story window of the mansion, a +young miss had watched the arrival and departure of the carriages. As +the second one drove away she exclaimed, "Oh! what a lark! Those last +folks came in Aunt Ella's carriage, too. I bet Quincy and auntie have +put up some sort of a game on pa and ma. I won't go down stairs till +Quincy comes, for I want to give my new sister a hug and a squeeze and a +kiss, and I sha'n't dare to do it till Quincy has introduced her to pa +and ma." + +At that moment the young man, faultlessly attired, came down stairs from +the third story, and Maude sprang out from her doorway on the second +floor and said in a whisper, "How long have you been home, Quincy?" + +"I came in about half-past eleven," he replied. + +"Oh, you rogue," cried Maude. "I have been watching out the window for +an hour. I see it all now, you don't mean to give pa and ma a chance to +say boo until after dinner. Let me go down first, Quincy." + +Maude went down stairs and was duly presented to the assembled guests as +the youngest scion of the house of Sawyer. + +At exactly five minutes of one Quincy entered the parlor through the +rear door. Aunt Ella and Alice were seated side by side between the two +front windows. As Quincy advanced he exchanged the compliments of the +season with the guests. Finally the Hon. Nathaniel and his son Quincy +stood facing Aunt Ella and Alice. + +"Quincy," said his father, in slow, measured tones, "it gives me great +pleasure to present you to the, celebrated young author, Bruce Douglas." + +Quincy bent low, and Alice inclined her head in acknowledgment. He +reached forward, clasped her hand in his and took his place by her +side. "Father, mother, and sisters," he cried, and there was a proud +tone in his clear, ringing voice, "there is still another presentation +to be made--that Christmas gift of which I spoke this morning at +breakfast. You see I hold this lady by the hand, which proves that we +are friends and not strangers. To her friends in the town of +Eastborough, where she was born, the daughter of an honest farmer, who +made a frugal living and no more, she was known by the name of Mary +Alice Pettengill. To the story and book-reading public of the United +States, she is known as Bruce Douglas, but to me she is known by the +sacred name of wife. I present to you as a Christmas gift, a daughter +and a sister." + +There was a moment of suspense, and all eyes were fixed upon the parents +so dramatically apprised of their son's marriage. The Hon. Nathaniel +cleared his throat, and advancing slowly, took Alice's hand in his and +said, "It gives me great pleasure to welcome as a daughter one so highly +favored by nature with intellectual powers and such marked endowments +for a famous literary career. I am confident that the reputation of our +family will gain rather than lose by such an alliance." + +"He thinks her books are going to sell," remarked Leopold to his wife. + +Mrs. Nathaniel Adams Sawyer took Alice's hand in hers and kissed her +upon the cheek. "You will always be welcome, my daughter, at our home. I +know we shall learn to love you in time." + +It was Florence's turn now. Like her mother, she took her new sister's +hand and gave her a society kiss on the cheek. Then she spoke: "As +mother said, I know I shall learn to love you, sister, in time." + +A slight form dashed through the front parlor door, and throwing her +arms about Alice's neck, gave her a hearty kiss upon the lips. "My sweet +sister, Alice, I love you now, and I always shall love you, and I think +my brother Quincy is just the luckiest man in the world to get such a +nice wife." + +Then abashed at her own vehemance, she got behind Aunt Ella, who said to +herself, "Maude has got some heart." + +Dinner was announced. The Hon. Nathaniel Adams Sawyer offered his arm to +Mrs. Quincy Adams Sawyer, and they led the holiday procession. Sir +Stuart Fernborough, M.P., escorted Mrs. Sarah Quincy Sawyer; next came +Mr. Leopold Ernst and Miss Linda Fernborough Chessman, followed by Mr. +Quincy Adams Sawyer and Mrs. Leopold Ernst; behind them walked, arm in +arm, Mrs. Ella Quincy Chessman and Mdme. Rose Archimbault; while +bringing up the rear came the Misses Florence Estelle and Maude Gertrude +Sawyer. Maude had politely offered her arm to Florence, but the latter +had firmly declined to accept it. In this order they entered the +gorgeous dining-room and took their places at a table bearing evidences +of the greatest wealth, if not the greatest refinement, to partake of +their Christmas dinner. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVIII. + +FERNBOROUGH. + + +Five years passed away, years of not unmixed happiness for any of those +with whom this story has made us acquainted. Quincy and Alice had +undergone a severe trial in the loss of two of the three little ones +that had been born to them; the remaining child was a fair little boy, +another Quincy, and upon him the bereaved parents lavished all the +wealth of their tenderness and affection. + +In his political life, however, Quincy had found only smooth and +pleasant sailing, and thanks to his bright and energetic nature, and not +a little, perhaps, to his father's name and influence, he had risen +rapidly from place to place and honor to honor. One of his earliest +political moves had been the introduction of a bill into the House for +the separation of Mason's Corner and Eastborough into individual +communities. + +Soon after the incorporation of the former town under its new name of +Fernborough, Abbot Smith, at Quincy's suggestion, had started the +Fernborough Improvement Association, and now after these few years, the +result of its labors was plainly and agreeably apparent. The ruins of +Uncle Ike's chicken coop had been removed, and grass covered its former +site. Shade trees had been planted along all the principal streets, for +the new town had streets instead of roads. The three-mile road to +Eastborough Centre had been christened Mason Street, and the square +before Strout & Maxwell's store had been named Mason Square. Mrs. +Hawkins's boarding house had become a hotel, and was known as the +Hawkins House. The square before the church was called Howe's Square, +in honor of the aged minister. The old Montrose road was now dignified +by the appellation of Montrose Avenue. The upper road to Eastborough +Centre that led by the old Putnam house was named Pettengill Street, +although Ezekiel protested that it was a "mighty poor name for a street, +even if it did answer all right for a man." The great square facing +Montrose Avenue, upon which the Town Hall and the Chessman Free Public +Library had been built, was called Putnam Square. On three sides of it, +wide streets had been laid out, on which many pretty houses had been +erected. These three streets had been named Quincy Street, Adams Street, +and Sawyer Street. + +It was the morning of the fifteenth of June, a gala day in the history +of the town. The fifth anniversary of the laying of the corner stone of +the Town Hall and the library was to be commemorated by a grand banquet +given in the Town Hall, and was to be graced by many distinguished +guests, among them the Hon. Quincy Adams Sawyer and wife, and Mrs. Ella +Chessman. After the banquet, which was to take place in the evening, +there was to be an open-air concert given, followed by a grand display +of fireworks. During the feast, the citizens were to be admitted to the +galleries, so that they could see the guests and listen to the speeches. + +About ten o'clock the visiting party started off to view the sights of +the town. Under the leadership of the town officers they turned their +steps first towards the new library. On entering this handsome building, +they observed hung over the balcony, facing them, a large oil painting +of a beautiful dark-haired, dark-eyed woman, dressed in satin and velvet +and ermine, and having a coronet upon her head. Underneath was a tablet +bearing an inscription. + +"An admirable portrait," said Quincy to his wife. "Can you read the +tablet, dear? I fear I shall really have to see Dr. Tillotson about my +eyes." + +Alice smiled at the allusion, and directing her gaze upon it, read +without the slightest hesitation: "Linda Putnam, once a resident of this +town, now Countess of Sussex, and donor of this library building, which +is named in honor of her father, Charles Chessman, only brother of +Robert Chessman." + +[Illustration: ALICE RECOVERS HER SIGHT (ACT IV.)] + +During the evening festivities the Town Hall was brilliantly lighted, +and every seat in the galleries and coigns of vantage were occupied. The +guests at the banquet numbered fully sixty. A Boston caterer, with a +corps of trained waiters, had charge of the dinner. During its progress +the Cottonton Brass Band performed at intervals. They were stationed in +Putnam Square, and the music was not an oppressive and disturbing +element, as it often is at close range on such occasions. + +When coffee was served, Toastmaster Obadiah Strout, Esq., arose, and the +eyes of banqueters and sightseers were turned toward him. + +"This is a glorious day in the history of our town," the toastmaster +began, "The pleasant duty has fallen to me of proposing the toasts to +which we shall drink, and of introducing our honored guests one by one. +I know that words of advice and encouragement will come from them. But +before I perform the duties that have been allotted to me, it is my +privilege to make a short address. Instead of doing so, I shall tell you +a little story, and it will be a different kind of a story from what I +have been in the habit of telling." + +This remark caused an audible titter to arise from some of the auditors +in the galleries, and Abner Stiles, who was sitting behind Mrs. Hawkins, +leaned over and said to her, "I guess he's goin' to tell a true story." + +The toastmaster continued: "More than six years ago a young man from the +city arrived in this town. It was given out that he came down here for +his health, but he wasn't so sick but that he could begin to take an +active part in town affairs as soon as he got here. They say confession +is good for the soul, and I'm goin' to confess that I didn't take to +this young man. I thought he was a city swell, who had come down here to +show off, and in company with several friends, who looked at his visit +down here about the same as I did, we did all we could for a couple of +months to try and drive him out of town. Now I am comin' to the point +that I want to make. If we had let him alone the chances are that he +wouldn't have stayed here more than a month any way. Now, s'posen he had +gone home at the end of the month; in that case he never would have met +the lady who sits by his side to-night, and who by her marriage has +added new lustre to her native town. If he had not remained, she never +would have written those stories which are known the world over, and I +tell you, fellow-citizens, that in writing Blennerhassett, An American +Countess, The Majesty of the Law, and The Street Boy, she has done more +to make this town famous than all the men who were ever born in it." + +The speaker paused and drank a glass of water, while cheers and applause +came from all parts of the gallery. Abner Stiles apparently forgot his +surroundings, and, thinking probably that it was a political rally, +called out, "Three cheers for Alice Pettengill"! which were given with a +will, much to his delight, and the surprise of the banqueters. + +The toastmaster resumed: "If he had gone away disgusted with the town +and its people, he never would have found out who Linda Putnam really +was, and she, consequently, would never have been what she is to-day, a +peeress of England and the great benefactress of this town, a lady who +will always have our deepest affection and most sincere gratitude." + +Again the orator paused, and the audience arose to its feet. Applause, +cheers, and the waving of handkerchiefs attested that the speaker's +words had voiced the popular feeling. Once more Abner Stiles's voice +rose above the din, and three cheers for "Lindy Putnam, Countess of +Sussex," were given with such a will that the band outside caught the +enthusiasm and played "God Save the Queen," which most of the audience +supposed was "America." + +"In conclusion," said the orator, "I have one more point to make, and +that is a purely personal one. Some writer has said the end justifies +the means, and another writer puts it this way, 'Do evil that good may +come.' In these two sayin's lies all the justification for many sayin's +and doin's that can be found; and if I were a conceited man or one +inclined to praise my own actions, I should say that the good fortune of +many of our distinguished guests this evening, and the handsome +financial backin' that this town has received, are due principally to my +personal exertions." + +Here the speaker paused again and wiped his forehead, which was bedewed +with perspiration. + +"Good Lord!" said Mrs. Hawkins to Olive Green, who sat next to her, "to +hear that man talk anybuddy would think that nobuddy else in the town +ever did anything." + +"To conclude," said the speaker, "I don't wish, feller citizens, to have +you understand that I am defendin' my actions. They were mean in spirit +and mean in the way in which they were done, but the one against whom +they were directed returned good for evil, and heaped coals of fire on +my head. At a time when events made me think he was my greatest enemy, +he became my greatest friend. It is to his assistance, advice, and +influence that I owe the present honorable position that I hold in this +town, and here to-night, in his presence, and in the presence of you +all, I have made this confession to show that I am truly repentant for +the past. At the same time, I cannot help rejoicing in the good fortune +that those misdeeds were the means of securin' for us all." + +As the speaker sat down, overcome with emotion, he was greeted with +applause, which was redoubled when Mr. Sawyer arose in his seat. But +when Quincy leaned forward and extended his hand to Strout, which the +latter took, the excitement rose to fever heat, and cheers for Quincy +Adams Sawyer and Obadiah Strout resounded throughout the hall and fell +upon the evening air. This time the band played "The Star Spangled +Banner." + +Again the toastmaster arose and said, "Ladies and gentlemen, the first +toast that I am going to propose to-night is a double one, because, for +obvious reasons, it must include not only the State, but its chief +representative, who is with us here to-night. Ladies and gentlemen, let +us drink to the Old Bay State, and may each loyal heart say within +itself, 'God save the Commonwealth of Massachusetts!'" The guests +touched their lips to their glasses. "And now," continued the +toastmaster, "to his Excellency QUINCY ADAMS SAWYER, Governor +of the Commonwealth, whom I have the honor of introducing to you." + +The Governor arose amid wild applause and loud acclamations, while the +band played "Hail to the Chief!" + +THE END. + + + + +$Hope Hathaway$ + +_IS ANOTHER STRONG WESTERN STORY OF MONTANA RANCH +LIFE BY THE AUTHOR OF_ "Marie of the Lower Ranch," _AND +WITH EACH COPY THE PUBLISHERS ARE GIVING_ + +FREE + +Eight Stirring Pictures + +_BY_ + +CHARLES M. RUSSELL + +_The Cowboy Artist_ + +_These pictures are the exact size and true reproductions +of the originals and are all ready for framing_ + +[Illustration: _The above pictures are reproductions +of three of the originals_.] + +Price of Book and Pictures, $1.50 + +C.M. CLARK PUBLISHING CO., (_Inc_.) + +_BOSTON, MASS_. + + + + +BE SURE AND ASK FOR + +$MY +LADY +LAUGHTER$ + +By the Author _of_ +"MISS PETTICOATS" + +A NOVEL OF UNIQUE CHARM + +The captivating title chosen by DWIGHT +TILTON for his third and best novel will +assure this author's hundreds of thousands +of readers that in $"My Lady Laughter"$ +they will find the same unusual and fascinating +qualities that made the famous story +of $"Miss Petticoats"$ so widely popular. + +$Beautifully Illustrated$ + +$Handsomely Bound$ + +$$1.50$ + + + + +"He has told a strong, honest story and +told it well."--BROOKLYN EAGLE. + +"A book of uncommon cleverness."--BOSTON GLOBE. + + +HESTER + +BLAIR + +THE ROMANCE OF A COUNTRY GIRL + +...BY... + +WILLIAM HENRY CARSON + + +A BOOK YOU WILL +HEAR ABOUT, READ, +AND TALK ABOUT + + +HESTER BLAIR is a sweet and lovable +character though a puzzling one.... + + +Attractively Bound in Red Silk +Cloth and Gold, Gilt Top +ILLUSTRATED $1.50 + + +C.M. CLARK PUBLISHING COMPANY, BOSTON + + + + +MISS +PETTICOATS + +By + +DWIGHT TILTON. + +(_MON PETIT COEUR_) + +[Illustration.] + +N.Y. TIMES SATURDAY REVIEW. +JUNE 14, 1902. + +"From the moment when Agatha +Renier makes her appearance 'swaying +like a scarlet vine' to the bridle of old +Mrs. Copeland's maddened horses +and stopping their headlong +progress, the reader has a +right to expect marvelous +developments. And in +this he is not +disappointed + + +NASHVILLE AMERICAN +MAY 22. + +"Here is a tale of modern +life to make you hold your +breath over one episode and +wonder what is coming next. It +is an American novel full of interest +and brightness, and so full of +action that the incidents fairly step +on each other's heels." + + +SEVEN BEAUTIFUL ILLUSTRATIONS IN COLORS. + +Handsomely Bound, Price $1.50. At all Booksellers. + +C.M. CLARK PUBLISHING CO., BOSTON, MASS. + + + + +MARJIE +OF THE LOWER RANCH + +BY FRANCES PARKER + +This is a ranch story by a real +ranch girl. She has woven into her +breezy Western romance vivid pictures +of ranch life from the viewpoint +of a girl who has lived on the great +Montana ranches since childhood. +Miss Parker's writing has the Western +dash that might be expected of a +girl who would not ride a broncho that +she herself had not broken to saddle. + +Illustrations by Victor A. Searles + +Attractively bound in cloth, 1.50 + +C.M. CLARK PUBLISHING CO. 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There is a fascination about Tito that compels sympathy +and interest."--BOSTON TRANSCRIPT, April 8. + +"The author has placed the simple Florence youth far above the +characters of recent fiction--it is a masterpiece of dramatic +fiction."--NEW YORK AMERICAN AND JOURNAL, March 28. + +"Mr. Carson has handled his material in a masterly manner and given +fiction a strong book."--INDIANAPOLIS SENTINEL, April 5. + +Illustrations by C.H. STEPHENS _and_ A.B. SHUTE + +Bound in Red Art Crash + +Price, 1.50 + +C.M. Clark Publishing Co., Boston + + + + +The Critics are Enthusiastic + +OVER + +$ON +SATAN'S +MOUNT$ + +By DWIGHT TILTON, author of +"MISS PETTICOATS" + +$Read What They Say:$ + +$HOW TO KNOW THE BOOKS, +April, 1903$. "This story has +a prophetic side, reminiscent +of 'Looking Backward,' but its +clever satirizations and veiled +illusions to living personages give it more of actuality than +that widely read social study." + +$NEW YORK AMERICAN, Saturday, April 11, 1903$. 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CLARK PUBLISHING COMPANY, BOSTON. + + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Quincy Adams Sawyer and Mason's Corner +Folks, by Charles Felton Pidgin + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK QUINCY ADAMS SAWYER AND *** + +***** This file should be named 16414.txt or 16414.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/1/6/4/1/16414/ + +Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Sigal Alon and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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