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diff --git a/2473-h/2473-h.htm b/2473-h/2473-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..4395d86 --- /dev/null +++ b/2473-h/2473-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,17468 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" > + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=UTF-8" /> + <title> + Mary-'gusta, by Joseph C. Lincoln + </title> + <link rel="coverpage" href="images/cover.jpg" /> + <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + + body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } + blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} + div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } + div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; } + .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} + .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} + .pagenum {display:inline; font-size: 70%; font-style:normal; + margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%; + text-align: right;} + pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} + +</style> + </head> + <body> + +<p style='text-align:center; font-size:1.2em; font-weight:bold'>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Mary-'Gusta, by Joseph C. Lincoln</p> +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and +most other parts of the world 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 <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you +are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the +country where you are located before using this eBook. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: Mary-'Gusta</div> +<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Joseph C. Lincoln</div> +<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: May 16, 2006 [eBook #2473]<br /> +[Most recently updated: January 8, 2023]</p> +<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</p> + <p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em; text-align:left'>Produced by: + Donald Lainson; David Widger</p> +<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MARY-'GUSTA ***</div> + + + <h1> + MARY-'GUSTA + </h1> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h2> + By Joseph C. Lincoln + </h2> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p class="toc"> + <big><b>CONTENTS</b></big> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0001"> <big><b>MARY-'GUSTA</b></big> </a> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0001"> CHAPTER I </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0002"> CHAPTER II </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0003"> CHAPTER III </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0004"> CHAPTER IV </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0005"> CHAPTER V </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0006"> CHAPTER VI </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0007"> CHAPTER VII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0008"> CHAPTER VIII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0009"> CHAPTER IX </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0010"> CHAPTER X </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0011"> CHAPTER XI </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0012"> CHAPTER XII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0013"> CHAPTER XIII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0014"> CHAPTER XIV </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0015"> CHAPTER XV </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0016"> CHAPTER XVI </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0017"> CHAPTER XVII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0018"> CHAPTER XVIII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0019"> CHAPTER XIX </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0020"> CHAPTER XX </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0021"> CHAPTER XXI </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0022"> CHAPTER XXII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0023"> CHAPTER XXIII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0024"> CHAPTER XXIV </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0025"> CHAPTER XXV </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0026"> CHAPTER XXVI </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0027"> CHAPTER XXVII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0028"> CHAPTER XXVIII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0029"> CHAPTER XXIX </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0030"> CHAPTER XXX </a> + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0001" id="link2H_4_0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> <br /> + </p> + <h1> + MARY-'GUSTA + </h1> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0001" id="link2HCH0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER I + </h2> + <p> + On the twentieth day of April in the year 19—, the people—that + is, a majority of the grown people of Ostable—were talking of + Marcellus Hall and Mary-'Gusta. + </p> + <p> + A part of this statement is not surprising. The average person, no matter + how humble or obscure, is pretty certain to be talked about on the day of + his funeral, and Marcellus was to be buried that afternoon. Moreover, + Marcellus had been neither humble nor obscure; also, he had been talked + about a good deal during the fifty-nine years of his sojourn on this + planet. So it is not at all surprising that he should be talked about now, + when that sojourn was ended. But for all Ostable—yes, and a large + part of South Harniss—to be engaged in speculation concerning the + future of Mary-'Gusta was surprising, for, prior to Marcellus's death, + very few outside of the Hall household had given her or her future a + thought. + </p> + <p> + On this day, however, whenever or wherever the name of Marcellus Hall was + mentioned, after the disposition of Marcellus's own bones had been + discussed and those of his family skeleton disinterred and articulated, + the conversation, in at least eight cases out of ten, resolved itself into + a guessing contest, having as its problem this query: + </p> + <p> + “What's goin' to become of that child?” + </p> + <p> + For example: + </p> + <p> + Mr. Bethuel Sparrow, local newsgatherer for the Ostable Enterprise, seated + before his desk in the editorial sanctum, was writing an obituary for next + week's paper, under the following head: + </p> + <p> + “A Prominent Citizen Passes Away.” + </p> + <p> + An ordinary man would probably have written “Dies”; but Mr. Sparrow, being + a young and very new reporter for a rural weekly, wrote “Passes Away” as + more elegant and less shocking to the reader. + </p> + <p> + It is much more soothing and refined to pass away than to die—unless + one happens to be the person most concerned, in which case, perhaps, it + may make little difference. + </p> + <p> + “The Angel of Death,” wrote Mr. Sparrow, “passed through our midst on + Tuesday last and called to his reward Captain Marcellus Hall, one of + Ostable's most well-known and influential residents.” + </p> + <p> + A slight exaggeration here. Marcellus had lived in Ostable but five years + altogether and, during the last three, had taken absolutely no part in + town affairs—political, religious or social. However, “influential” + is a good word and usual in obituaries, so Bethuel let it stand. He + continued: + </p> + <p> + “Captain Hall's sudden death—” + </p> + <p> + Erasure of “death” and substitution of “demise.” + </p> + <p> + Then: + </p> + <p> + “—Was a shock to the community at large. It happened on account of—” + More erasures and substitutions. “—It was the result of his taking + cold owing to exposure during the heavy southeast rains of week before + last which developed into pneumonia. He grew rapidly worse and passed away + at 3.06 P.M. on Tuesday, leaving a vacancy in our midst which will be hard + to fill, if at all. Although Captain Hall had resided in Ostable but a + comparatively short period, he was well-known and respected, both as a man + and—” + </p> + <p> + Here, invention failing, Mr. Sparrow called for assistance. + </p> + <p> + “Hey, Perce,” he hailed, addressing his companion, Mr. Percy Clark, who + was busy setting type: “What's a good word to use here? I say Marcellus + was respected both as a man—and somethin' else.” + </p> + <p> + “Hey?” queried Percy, absently, scanning the eight point case. “What d'ye + say?” + </p> + <p> + “I asked you what would be a good thing to go with 'man'?” + </p> + <p> + “Hey? I don't know. Woman, I guess.” + </p> + <p> + “Aw, cut it out. Never mind, I got it: + </p> + <p> + “—As a man and a citizen. Captain Hall was fifty-nine years of age + at the time of his demise. He was born in South Harniss and followed the + sea until 1871, when he founded the firm of Hall and Company, which was + for some years the leading dealer in fresh and salt fish in this section + of the state. When the firm— + </p> + <p> + “I say, Perce! 'Twouldn't do to say Marcellus failed in business, would + it? Might seem like hintin' at that stuff about his sister and the rest of + it. Might get us into trouble, eh?” + </p> + <p> + “Humph! I don't know who with. Everybody's talkin' about it, anyway. Up to + the boardin' house they've been talking about mighty little else ever + since he died.” + </p> + <p> + “I know, but talk's one thing and print's another. I'm goin' to leave it + out. + </p> + <p> + “When the firm went out of business in 1879, Captain Hall followed the sea + again, commanding the ships Faraway, Fair Wind, and Treasure Seeker, and + the bark Apollo. Later he retired from the sea and has not been active in + the same or otherwise since. In 1894 he married Augusta Bangs Lathrop, + widow of the late Reverend Charles Lathrop, formerly pastor of the + Congregational Church in this town. Captain Hall had been residing in his + native town, South Harniss, but after his marriage he took up his + residence in Ostable, purchasing the residence formerly owned by Elnathan + Phinney on Phinney's Hill, where he lived until his lamented demise. Mrs. + Hall passed away in 1896. The sudden removal of Captain Hall from our + midst leaves a stepdaughter, Mary Augusta Lathrop, aged seven. The—” + </p> + <p> + Here Mr. Sparrow's train of thought collided with the obstruction which + was derailing many similar trains in Ostable and South Harniss. + </p> + <p> + “I say, Perce,” he observed “what's goin' to become of that kid of + Marcellus's—his wife's, I mean? Marcellus didn't have any relations, + as far as anybody knows, and neither did his wife. Who's goin' to take + care of Mary-'Gusta?” + </p> + <p> + Percy shook his head. “Don't know,” he answered. “That's what all hands + are askin'. I presume likely she'll be looked after. Marcellus left plenty + of money, didn't he? And kids with money can generally find guardians.” + </p> + <p> + “Yup, I guess that's so. Still, whoever gets her will have their hands + full. She's the most old-fashioned, queerest young-one ever I saw.” + </p> + <p> + So much for Mr. Sparrow and his fellow laborer for the Enterprise. Now to + listen for a moment to Judge Baxter, who led the legal profession of + Ostable; and to Mrs. Baxter who, so common report affirmed, led the Judge. + The pair were upstairs in the Baxter house, dressing for the funeral. + </p> + <p> + “Daniel,” declared Mrs. Baxter, “it's the queerest thing I ever heard of. + You say they don't know—either of them—and the child herself + doesn't know, either.” + </p> + <p> + “That's it, Ophelia. No one knows except myself. Captain Hall read the + letter to me and put it in my charge a year ago.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I must say!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I know, I said it at the time, and I've been saying it to myself + ever since. It doesn't mean anything; that is, it is not binding legally, + of course. It's absolutely unbusinesslike and unpractical. Simply a + letter, asking them, as old friends, to do this thing. Whether they will + or not the Almighty only knows.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, Daniel, I must say I shouldn't have thought you, as his lawyer, + would have let him do such a thing. Of course, I don't know either of them + very well, but, from what little I've heard, I should say they know as + much about what they would be supposed to do as—as you do about + tying a necktie. For mercy sakes let me fix it! The knot is supposed to be + under your chin, not under your ear as if you were going to be hung.” + </p> + <p> + The Judge meekly elevated the chin and his wife pulled the tie into place. + </p> + <p> + “And so,” she said, “they can say yes or no just as they like.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, it rests entirely with them.” + </p> + <p> + “And suppose they say no, what will become of the child then?” + </p> + <p> + “I can't tell you. Captain Hall seemed pretty certain they wouldn't say + no.” + </p> + <p> + “Humph! There! Now you look a little more presentable. Have you got a + clean handkerchief? Well, that's an unexpected miracle; I don't know how + you happened to think of it. When are you going to speak with them about + it?” + </p> + <p> + “Today, if they come to the funeral, as I suppose they will.” + </p> + <p> + “I shall be in a fidget until I know whether they say yes or no. And + whichever they say I shall keep on fidgeting until I see what happens + after that. Poor little Mary-'Gusta! I wonder what WILL become of her.” + </p> + <p> + The Judge shook his head. + </p> + <p> + Over the road between South Harniss and Ostable a buggy drawn by an aged + white horse was moving slowly. On the buggy's seat were two men, Captain + Shadrach Gould and Zoeth Hamilton. Captain Gould, big, stout, and bearded, + was driving. Mr. Hamilton, small, thin, smooth-faced and white-haired, was + beside him. Both were obviously dressed in their Sunday clothes, Captain + Shadrach's blue, Mr. Hamilton's black. Each wore an uncomfortably high + collar and the shoes of each had been laboriously polished. Their faces, + utterly unlike in most respects, were very solemn. + </p> + <p> + “Ah hum!” sighed Mr. Hamilton. + </p> + <p> + Captain Shadrach snorted impatiently. + </p> + <p> + “For the land sakes don't do that again, Zoeth,” he protested. “That's the + tenth 'Ah hum' you've cast loose in a mile. I know we're bound to a + funeral but there ain't no need of tollin' the bell all the way. I don't + like it and I don't think Marcellus would neither, if he could hear you.” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps he can hear us, Shadrach,” suggested his companion, mildly. + “Perhaps he's here with us now; who can tell?” + </p> + <p> + “Humph! Well, if he is then I KNOW he don't like it. Marcellus never made + any fuss whatever happened, and he wouldn't make any at his own funeral no + more than at anybody else's. That wasn't his way. Say nothin' and keep her + on the course, that was Marcellus. I swan I can hardly make it seem + possible that he's gone!” + </p> + <p> + “Neither can I, Shadrach. And to think that you and me, his old partners + and lifelong chums as you might say, hadn't seen nor spoken to him for + over two years. It makes me feel bad. Bad and sort of conscience-struck.” + </p> + <p> + “I know; so it does me, in a way. And yet it wasn't our fault, Zoeth. You + know as well as I do that Marcellus didn't want to see us. We was over to + see him last and he scarcely said a word while we was there. You and me + did all the talkin' and he just set and looked at us—when he wasn't + lookin' at the floor. I never saw such a change in a man. We asked—yes, + by fire, we fairly begged him to come and stay with us for a spell, but he + never did. Now it ain't no further from Ostable to South Harniss than it + is from South Harniss to Ostable. If he'd wanted to come he could; if he'd + wanted to see us he could. We went to see him, didn't we; and WE had a + store and a business to leave. He ain't had any business since he give up + goin' to sea. He—” + </p> + <p> + “Sshh! Shh!” interrupted Mr. Hamilton, mildly, “don't talk that way, + Shadrach. Don't find fault with the dead.” + </p> + <p> + “Find fault! I ain't findin' fault. I thought as much of Marcellus Hall as + any man on earth, and nobody feels worse about his bein' took than I do. + But I'm just sayin' what we both know's a fact. He didn't want to see us; + he didn't want to see nobody. Since his wife died he lived alone in that + house, except for a housekeeper and that stepchild, and never went + anywhere or had anybody come to see him if he could help it. A reg'lar + hermit—that's what he was, a hermit, like Peleg Myrick down to + Setuckit P'int. And when I think what he used to be, smart, lively, able, + one of the best skippers and smartest business men afloat or ashore, it + don't seem possible a body could change so. 'Twas that woman that done it, + that woman that trapped him into gettin' married.” + </p> + <p> + “Sshh! Shh! Shadrach; she's dead, too. And, besides, I guess she was a + real good woman; everybody said she was.” + </p> + <p> + “I ain't sayin' she wasn't, am I? What I say is she hadn't no business + marryin' a man twenty years older'n she was.” + </p> + <p> + “But,” mildly, “you said she trapped him. Now we don't know—” + </p> + <p> + “Zoeth Hamilton, you know she must have trapped him. You and I agreed that + was just what she done. If she hadn't trapped him—set a reg'lar + seine for him and hauled him aboard like a school of mackerel—'tain't + likely he'd have married her or anybody else, is it? I ain't married + nobody, have I? And Marcellus was years older'n I be.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, well, Shadrach!” + </p> + <p> + “No, 'tain't well; it's bad. He's gone, and—and you and me that was + with him for years and years, his very best friends on earth as you might + say, wasn't with him when he died. If it hadn't been for her he'd have + stayed in South Harniss where he belonged. Consarn women! They're + responsible for more cussedness than the smallpox. 'When a man marries his + trouble begins'; that's gospel, too.” + </p> + <p> + Zoeth did not answer. + </p> + <p> + Captain Gould, after a sidelong glance at his companion, took a hand from + the reins and laid it on the Hamilton knee. + </p> + <p> + “I'm sorry, Zoeth,” he said, contritely; “I didn't mean to—to rake + up bygones; I was blowin' off steam, that's all. I'm sorry.” + </p> + <p> + “I know, Shadrach. It's all right.” + </p> + <p> + “No, 'tain't all right; it's all wrong. Somebody ought to keep a watch on + me, and when they see me beginnin' to get hot, set me on the back of the + stove or somewheres; I'm always liable to bile over and scald the wrong + critter. I've done that all my life. I'm sorry, Zoeth, you know I didn't + mean—” + </p> + <p> + “I know, I know. Ah hum! Poor Marcellus! Here's the first break in the old + firm, Shadrach.” + </p> + <p> + “Yup. You and me are all that's left of Hall and Company. That is—” + </p> + <p> + He stopped short just in time and roared a “Git dap” at the horse. He had + been on the point of saying something which would have been far more + disastrous than his reference to the troubles following marriage. Zoeth + was apparently not curious. To his friend's great relief he did not wait + for the sentence to be finished, nor did he ask embarrassing questions. + Instead he said: + </p> + <p> + “I wonder what's goin' to become of that child, Mary Lathrop's girl. Who + do you suppose likely will take charge of her?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know. I've been wonderin' that myself, Zoeth.” + </p> + <p> + “Kind of a cute little thing, she was, too, as I recollect her. I presume + likely she's grown up consid'ble since. You remember how she set and + looked at us that last time we was over to see Marcellus, Shadrach?” + </p> + <p> + “Remember? How she looked at ME, you mean! Shall I ever forget it? I'd + just had my hair cut by that new barber, Sim Ellis, that lived here 'long + about then, and I told him to cut off the ends. He thought I meant the + other ends, I cal'late, for I went to sleep in the chair, same as I + generally do, and when I woke up my head looked like the main truck of the + old Faraway. All it needed was to have the bald place gilded. I give you + my word that if I hadn't been born with my ears set wing and wing like a + schooner runnin' afore the wind I'd have been smothered when I put my hat + on—nothin' but them ears kept it propped up off my nose. YOU + remember that haircut, Zoeth. Well, all the time you and me was in + Marcellus's settin'-room that stepchild of his just set and looked at my + head. Never took her eyes off it. If she'd said anything 'twouldn't have + been so bad; but she didn't—just looked. I could feel my bald spot + reddenin' up till I swan to man I thought it must be breakin' out in + blisters. 'Never see anybody that looked just like me, did you, Sis?' I + says to her, when I couldn't stand it any longer. 'No, sir,' she says, + solemn as an owl. She was right out and honest, I'll say that for her. + That's the only time Marcellus laughed while we was inside that house. I + didn't blame him much. Ho, ho! Well, he ain't laughin' now and neither are + we—or we hadn't ought to be. Neither is the child, I cal'late, poor + thing. I wonder what will become of her.” + </p> + <p> + And meanwhile the child herself was vaguely, and in childish fashion, + wondering that very thing. She was in the carriage room of the barn + belonging to the Hall estate—if the few acres of land and the + buildings owned by the late Marcellus may be called an estate—curled + up on the back seat of the old surrey which had been used so little since + the death of her mother, Augusta Hall, four years before. The surrey was + shrouded from top to floor with a dust cover of unbleached muslin through + which the sunshine from the carriage room windows filtered in a + mysterious, softened twilight. The covered surrey was a favorite retreat + of Mary-'Gusta's. She had discovered it herself—which made it doubly + alluring, of course—and she seldom invited her juvenile friends to + share its curtained privacy with her. It was her playhouse, her tent, and + her enchanted castle, much too sacred to be made common property. Here she + came on rainy Saturdays and on many days not rainy when other children, + those possessing brothers or sisters, played out of doors. She liked to + play by herself, to invent plays all her own, and these other children—“normal + children,” their parents called them—were much too likely to laugh + instead of solemnly making believe as she did. Mary-'Gusta was not a + normal child; she was “that queer Lathrop young-one”—had heard + herself so described more than once. She did not like the phrase; “queer” + was not so bad—perhaps she was queer—but she had an + instinctive repugnance to being called a young-one. Birds and rabbits had + young-ones and she was neither feathered nor furred. + </p> + <p> + So very few of the neighborhood children were invited to the shaded + interior of the old surrey. Her dolls—all five of them—spent a + good deal of time there and David, the tortoise-shell cat, came often, + usually under compulsion. When David had kittens, which interesting + domestic event took place pretty frequently, he—or she—positively + refused to be an occupant of that surrey, growling and scratching in a + decidedly ungentlemanly—or unladylike—manner. Twice + Mary-'Gusta had attempted to make David more complacent by bringing the + kittens also to the surrey, but their parent had promptly and + consecutively seized them by the scruff of their necks and laboriously + lugged them up to the haymow again. + </p> + <p> + Just now, however, there being no kittens, David was slumbering in a furry + heap beside Mary-'Gusta at one end of the carriage seat, and Rosette, the + smallest of the five dolls, and Rose, the largest, were sitting bolt + upright in the corner at the other end. The christening of the smallest + and newest doll was the result of a piece of characteristic reasoning on + its owner's part. She was very fond of the name Rose, the same being the + name of the heroine in “Eight Cousins,” which story Mrs. Bailey, + housekeeper before last for Marcellus Hall, had read aloud to the child. + When the new doll came, at Christmas time, Mary-'Gusta wished that she + might christen it Rose also. But there was another and much beloved Rose + already in the family. So Mary-'Gusta reflected and observed, and she + observed that a big roll of tobacco such as her stepfather smoked was a + cigar; while a little one, as smoked by Eben Keeler, the grocer's delivery + clerk, was a cigarette. Therefore, the big doll being already Rose, the + little one became Rosette. + </p> + <p> + Mary-'Gusta was not playing with Rose and Rosette at the present time. + Neither was she interested in the peaceful slumbers of David. She was not + playing at all, but sitting, with feet crossed beneath her on the seat and + hands clasped about one knee, thinking. And, although she was thinking of + her stepfather who she knew had gone away to a vague place called Heaven—a + place variously described by Mrs. Bailey, the former housekeeper, and by + Mrs. Susan Hobbs, the present one, and by Mr. Howes, the Sunday school + superintendent—she was thinking most of herself, Mary Augusta + Lathrop, who was going to a funeral that very afternoon and, after that, + no one seemed to know exactly where. + </p> + <p> + It was a beautiful April day and the doors of the carriage house and the + big door of the barn were wide open. Mary-'Gusta could hear the hens + clucking and the voices of people talking. The voices were two: one was + that of Mrs. Hobbs, the housekeeper, and the other belonged to Mr. Abner + Hallett, the undertaker. Mary-'Gusta did not like Mr. Hallett's voice; she + liked neither it nor its owner's manner; she described both voice and + manner to herself as “too soothy.” They gave her the shivers. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Hallett's tone was subdued at the present time, but a trifle of the + professional “soothiness” was lacking. He and Mrs. Hobbs were conversing + briskly enough and, although Mary-'Gusta could catch only a word or two at + intervals, she was perfectly sure they were talking about her. She was + certain that if she were to appear at that moment in the door of the barn + they would stop talking immediately and look at her. Everybody whom she + had met during the past two days looked at her in that queer way. It made + her feel as if she had something catching, like the measles, and as if, + somehow or other, she was to blame. + </p> + <p> + She realized dimly that she should feel very, very badly because her + stepfather was dead. Mrs. Hobbs had told her that she should and seemed to + regard her as queerer than ever because she had not cried. But, according + to the housekeeper, Captain Hall was out of his troubles and had gone + where he would be happy for ever and ever. So it seemed to her strange to + be expected to cry on his account. He had not been happy here in Ostable, + or, at least, he had not shown his happiness in the way other people + showed theirs. To her he had been a big, bearded giant of a man, whom she + saw at infrequent intervals during the day and always at night just before + she went to bed. His room, with the old-fashioned secretary against the + wall, and the stuffed gull on the shelf, and the books in the cupboard, + and the polished narwhal horn in the corner, was to her a sort of holy of + holies, a place where she was led each evening at nine o'clock, at first + by Mrs. Bailey and, later, by Mrs. Hobbs, to shake the hand of the big man + who looked at her absently over his spectacles and said good night in a + voice not unkindly but expressing no particular interest. At other times + she was strictly forbidden to enter that room. + </p> + <p> + Occasionally, but very rarely, she had eaten Sunday dinner with Marcellus. + She and the housekeeper usually ate together and Mr. Hall's meals were + served in what the child called “the smoke room,” meaning the apartment + just described, which was at all times strongly scented with tobacco. The + Sunday dinners were stately and formal affairs and were prefaced by + lectures by the housekeeper concerning sitting up straight and not + disturbing Cap'n Hall by talking too much. On the whole Mary-'Gusta was + rather glad when the meals were over. She did not dislike her stepfather; + he had never been rough or unkind, but she had always stood in awe of him + and had felt that he regarded her as a “pesky nuisance,” something to be + fed and then shooed out of the way, as Mrs. Hobbs regarded David, the cat. + As for loving him, as other children seemed to love their fathers; that + the girl never did. She was sure he did not love her in that way, and that + he would not have welcomed demonstrations of affection on her part. She + had learned the reason, or she thought she had: she was a STEPCHILD; that + was why, and a stepchild was almost as bad as a “changeling” in a fairy + story. + </p> + <p> + Her mother she remembered dimly and with that recollection were memories + of days when she was loved and made much of, not only by Mother, but by + Captain Hall also. She asked Mrs. Bailey, whom she had loved and whose + leaving was the greatest grief of her life, some questions about these + memories. Mrs. Bailey had hugged her and had talked a good deal about + Captain Hall's being a changed man since his wife's death. “He used to be + so different, jolly and good-natured and sociable; you wouldn't know him + now if you seen him then. When your mamma was took it just seemed to wilt + him right down. He was awful sick himself for a spell, and when he got + better he was like he is today. Seems as if HE died too, as you might say, + and ain't really lived since. I'm awful sorry for Cap'n Marcellus. You + must be real good to him when you grow up, Mary-'Gusta.” + </p> + <p> + And now he had gone before she had had a chance to grow up, and + Mary-'Gusta felt an unreasonable sense of blame. But real grief, the + dreadful paralyzing realization of loss which an adult feels when a dear + one dies, she did not feel. + </p> + <p> + She was awed and a little frightened, but she did not feel like crying. + Why should she? + </p> + <p> + “Mary-'Gusta! Mary-'Gusta! Where be you?” + </p> + <p> + It was Mrs. Hobbs calling. Mary-'Gusta hurriedly untwisted her legs and + scrambled from beneath the dust cover of the surrey. David, whose slumbers + were disturbed, rose also, yawned and stretched. + </p> + <p> + “Here I be, Mrs. Hobbs,” answered the girl. “I'm a-comin'.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Hobbs was standing in the doorway of the barn. Mary-'Gusta noticed + that she was not, as usual, garbed in gingham, but was arrayed in her best + go-to-meeting gown. + </p> + <p> + “I'm a-comin',” said the child. + </p> + <p> + “Comin', yes. But where on earth have you been? I've been hunting all over + creation for you. I didn't suppose you'd be out here, on this day of all + others, with—with that critter,” indicating David, who appeared, + blinking sleepily. + </p> + <p> + “I must say I shouldn't think you'd be fussin' along with a cat today,” + declared Mrs. Hobbs. + </p> + <p> + “Yes'm,” said Mary-'Gusta. David yawned, apparently expressing a bored + contempt for housekeepers in general. + </p> + <p> + “Come right along into the house,” continued Mrs. Hobbs. “It's high time + you was gettin' ready for the funeral.” + </p> + <p> + “Ready? How?” queried Mary-'Gusta. + </p> + <p> + “Why, changin' your clothes, of course.” + </p> + <p> + “Do folks dress up for funerals?” + </p> + <p> + “Course they do. What a question!” + </p> + <p> + “I didn't know. I—I've never had one.” + </p> + <p> + “Had one?” + </p> + <p> + “I mean I've never been to any. What do they dress up for?” + </p> + <p> + “Why—why, because they do, of course. Now don't ask any more + questions, but hurry up. Where are you goin' now, for mercy sakes?” + </p> + <p> + “I was goin' back after Rose and Rosette. They ought to be dressed up, + too, hadn't they?” + </p> + <p> + “The idea! Playin' dolls today! I declare I never see such a child! You're + a reg'lar little—little heathen. Would you want anybody playin' + dolls at your own funeral, I'd like to know?” + </p> + <p> + Mary-'Gusta thought this over. “I don't know,” she answered, after + reflection. “I guess I'd just as soon. Do they have dolls up in Heaven, + Mrs. Hobbs?” + </p> + <p> + “Mercy on us! I should say not. Dolls in Heaven! The idea!” + </p> + <p> + “Nor cats either?” + </p> + <p> + “No. Don't ask such wicked questions.” + </p> + <p> + Mary-'Gusta asked no more questions of that kind, but her conviction that + Heaven—Mrs. Hobbs' Heaven—was a good place for housekeepers + and grown-ups but a poor one for children was strengthened. + </p> + <p> + They entered the house by the kitchen door and ascended the back stairs to + Mary-'Gusta's room. The shades in all the rooms were drawn and the house + was dark and gloomy. The child would have asked the reason for this, but + at the first hint of a question Mrs. Hobbs bade her hush. + </p> + <p> + “You mustn't talk,” she said. + </p> + <p> + “Why mustn't I?” + </p> + <p> + “Because 'tain't the right thing to do, that's why. Now hurry up and get + dressed.” + </p> + <p> + Mary-'Gusta silently wriggled out of her everyday frock, was led to the + washstand and vigorously scrubbed. Then Mrs. Hobbs combed and braided what + she called her “pigtails” and tied a bow of black ribbon at the end of + each. + </p> + <p> + “There!” exclaimed the lady. “You're clean for once in your life, anyhow. + Now hurry up and put on them things on the bed.” + </p> + <p> + The things were Mary-'Gusta's very best shoes and dress; also a pair of + new black stockings. + </p> + <p> + When the dressing was finished the housekeeper stood her in the middle of + the floor and walked about her on a final round of inspection. + </p> + <p> + “There!” she said again, with a sigh of satisfaction. “Nobody can say I + ain't took all the pains with you that anybody could. Now you come + downstairs and set right where I tell you till I come. And don't you say + one single word. Not a word, no matter what happens.” + </p> + <p> + She took the girl's hand and led her down the front stairs. As they + descended Mary-'Gusta could scarcely restrain a gasp of surprise. The + front door was open—the FRONT door—and the child had never + seen it open before, had long ago decided that it was not a truly door at + all, but merely a make-believe like the painted windows on the sides of + her doll house. But now it was wide open and Mr. Hallett, arrayed in a + suit of black, the coat of which puckered under the arms, was standing on + the threshold, looking more soothy than ever. The parlor door was open + also, and the parlor itself—the best first parlor, more sacred and + forbidden even than the “smoke room”—was, as much of it as she could + see, filled with chairs. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Hobbs led her into the little room off the parlor, the “back + settin'-room,” and, indicating the haircloth and black walnut sofa against + the wall, whispered to her to sit right there and not move. + </p> + <p> + “Mind now,” she whispered, “don't talk and don't stir. I'll be back by and + by.” + </p> + <p> + Mary-'Gusta, left alone, looked wide-eyed about the little back + sitting-room. It, too, was changed; not changed as much as the front + parlor, but changed, nevertheless. Most of the furniture had been removed. + The most comfortable chairs, including the rocker with the parrot “tidy” + on the back, had been taken away. One or two of the bolt-upright variety + remained and the “music chair” was still there, but pushed back into a + corner. + </p> + <p> + Mary-'Gusta saw the music chair and a quiver of guilty fear tinged along + her spine; that particular chair had always been, to her, the bright, + particular glory of the house. Not because it was beautiful, for that it + distinctly was not; but because of the marvellous secret hidden beneath + its upholstered seat. Captain Marcellus had brought it home years and + years before, when he was a sea-going bachelor and made voyages to + Hamburg. In its normal condition it was a perfectly quiet and ugly chair, + but there was a catch under one arm and a music box under the seat. And if + that catch were released, then when anyone sat in it, the music box played + “The Campbell's Are Coming” with spirit and jingle. And, moreover, kept on + playing it to the finish unless the catch was pushed back again. + </p> + <p> + To Mary-'Gusta that chair was a perpetual fascination. She had been + expressly forbidden to touch it, had been shut in the dark closet more + than once for touching it; but, nevertheless, the temptation was always + there and she had yielded to that temptation at intervals when Mrs. Hobbs + and her stepfather were out. And the last time she had touched it she had + broken the catch. She had wound up the music box, after hearing it play, + but the catch which made it a perfectly safe seat and not a trap for the + unwary had refused to push back into place. And now there it was, loaded + and primed, so to speak, and she was responsible. Suppose—Oh, + horrible thought!—suppose anyone should sit in it that afternoon! + </p> + <p> + She gasped and jumped off the sofa. Then she remembered Mrs. Hobbs' + parting command and stopped, hesitating. Mr. Hallett, standing at the end + of the hall, by the front door, heard her move and tiptoed to the + sitting-room. + </p> + <p> + “What's the matter, little girl?” he whispered, soothingly. + </p> + <p> + “No-nothin',” gasped Mary-'Gusta. + </p> + <p> + “You're sure?” + </p> + <p> + “Ye-yes, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “All right. Then you set down on the sofa and keep still. You mustn't make + any noise. The folks are comin' now. Set right down on the sofy, that's a + good girl!” + </p> + <p> + So back to the sofa went Mary-'Gusta, trembling with apprehension. From + her seat she could see along the hall and also through the other door into + the “big settin'-room,” where, also, there were rows of chairs. And, to + her horror, these chairs began to fill. People, most of them dressed in + church-going garments which rattled and rustled, were tiptoeing in and + sitting down where she could see them and they could see her. She did not + dare to move now; did not dare go near the music chair even if going near + it would have done any good. She remained upon the sofa, and shivered. + </p> + <p> + A few moments later Mrs. Hobbs appeared, looking very solemn and + Sundayfied, and sat beside her. Then Judge and Mrs. Baxter were shown into + the little room and took two of the remaining chairs. The Judge bowed and + smiled and Mrs. Baxter leaned over and patted her hand. Mary-'Gusta tried + to smile, too, but succeeded only in looking more miserable. Mrs. Hobbs + whispered to her to sit up straight. + </p> + <p> + There was a steady stream of people through the front door now. They all + entered the parlor and many stayed there, but others passed on into the + “big settin'-room.” The chairs there were almost all taken; soon all were + taken and Mr. Hallett was obliged to remove one of those in the small + room. There were but two left empty, one a tall, straight antique with a + rush seat, a family heirloom, and the other the music chair. Mary-'Gusta + stared at the music chair and hoped and hoped. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Sharon, the minister, entered and shook hands with the Judge and Mrs. + Baxter and with Mrs. Hobbs and Mary-'Gusta. He also patted the child's + hand. Mrs. Hobbs whispered to him, with evident pride, that it was “goin' + to be one of the biggest funerals ever given in Ostable.” Mr. Sharon + nodded. Then, after waiting a moment or two, he tiptoed along the front + hall and took up his stand by the parlor door. There was a final rustle of + gowns, a final crackle of Sunday shirtfronts, and then a hushed silence. + </p> + <p> + The silence was broken by the rattle of wheels in the yard. Mr. Hallett at + the door held up a warning hand. A moment later he ushered two people in + at the front door and led them through the parlor into the “big + settin'-room.” Mary-'Gusta could see the late comers plainly. They were + both men, one big and red-faced and bearded, the other small, and thin, + and white-haired. A rustle passed through the crowd and everyone turned to + look. Some looked as if they recognized the pair, but they did not bow; + evidently it was not proper to bow at funerals. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Hallett, on tiptoe, of course, glided into the little room from the + big one and looked about him. Then, to the absolute stupefaction of + Mary-'Gusta, he took the rush-seated chair in one hand and the music chair + in the other and tiptoed out. He placed the two chairs in the back row + close to the door of the smaller room and motioned to the two men to sit. + </p> + <p> + Mary-'Gusta could stand it no longer. She was afraid of Mrs. Hobbs, afraid + of Mr. Hallett, afraid of the Baxters and all the staring crowd; but she + was more afraid of what was going to happen. She tugged at the + housekeeper's sleeve. + </p> + <p> + “Mrs. Hobbs!” she whispered, quiveringly. “Oh, Mrs. Hobbs!” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Hobbs shook off the clutch at her sleeve. + </p> + <p> + “Sshh!” she whispered. “Sshh!” + </p> + <p> + “But—but please, Mrs. Hobbs—” + </p> + <p> + “Sshh! You mustn't talk. Be still. Be still, I tell you.” + </p> + <p> + The small, white-haired man sat down in the rush-seated chair. The big man + hesitated, separated his coat tails, and then he, too, sat down. + </p> + <p> + And the music box under the seat of the chair he sat in informed everyone + with cheerful vigor that the Campbells were coming, Hurrah! Hurrah! + </p> + <p> + Captain Shadrach Gould arose from that chair, arose promptly and without + hesitation. Mr. Zoeth Hamilton also rose; so did many others in the + vicinity. There was a stir and a rustle and whispered exclamations. And + still the news of the imminent arrival of the Campbells was tinkled abroad + and continued to tinkle. Someone giggled, so did someone else. Others + said, “Hush!” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Judge Baxter said, “Heavens and earth!” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Hobbs looked as if she wished to say something very much indeed. + </p> + <p> + Captain Shadrach's bald spot blazed a fiery red and he glared about him + helplessly. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Hallett, who was used to unexpected happenings at funerals—though, + to do him justice, he had never before had to deal with anything quite + like this—rushed to the center of the disturbance. Mrs. Hobbs + hastened to help. Together and with whisperings, they fidgeted with the + refractory catch. And still the music box played—and played—and + played. + </p> + <p> + At last Mr. Hallett gave it up. He seized the chair and with it in his + arms rushed out into the dining-room. Captain Shadrach Gould mopped his + face with a handkerchief and stood, because there was nowhere for him to + sit. Mrs. Hobbs, almost as red in the face as Captain Shad himself, + hastened back and collapsed upon the sofa. Mr. Sharon cleared his throat. + </p> + <p> + And still, from behind the closed door of the dining-room the music chair + tinkled on: + </p> + <p> + “The Campbells are coming! Hurrah! Hurrah!” Poor little guilty, frightened + Mary-'Gusta covered her face with her hands. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0002" id="link2HCH0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER II + </h2> + <p> + “And now, gentlemen,” said Judge Baxter, “here we are. Sit down and make + yourselves comfortable. I shall have a good deal to say and I expect to + surprise you. Sit down.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Gould and Mr. Hamilton were in the Judge's library at his home. + The funeral was over, all that was mortal of Marcellus Hall had been laid + to rest in the Ostable cemetery, and his two friends and former partners + had, on their return from that cemetery, stopped at the Judge's, at the + latter's request. He wished, so he said, to speak with them on an + important matter. + </p> + <p> + “Why don't you sit down, Captain?” asked the Judge, noticing that, + although Zoeth had seated himself in the rocker which his host had + indicated, Shadrach was still standing. + </p> + <p> + Captain Shadrach laid a hand on the back of the armchair and regarded the + lawyer with a very grave face, but with a twinkle in his eye. + </p> + <p> + “To tell you the truth, Judge,” he said, slowly, “I don't cal'late I ever + shall set down again quite so whole-hearted as I used to. You spoke of a + surprise, didn't you? I've had one surprise this afternoon that's liable + to stay with me for a spell. I'm an unsuspectin' critter, generally + speakin', but after that—Say, you ain't got a brass band nor + fireworks hitched to THIS chair, have you?” + </p> + <p> + Judge Baxter laughed heartily. “No,” he said, as soon as he could speak. + “No, Captain, my furniture isn't loaded.” + </p> + <p> + The Captain shook his head. “Whew!” he whistled, sitting down gingerly in + the armchair. “Well, that's a mercy. I ain't so young as I used to be and + I couldn't stand many such shocks. Whew! Don't talk to ME! When that + devilish jig tune started up underneath me I'll bet I hopped up three foot + straight. I may be kind of slow sittin' down, but you'll bear me out that + I can GET UP sudden when it's necessary. And I thought the dum thing never + would STOP.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Hamilton stirred uneasily. “Hush, hush, Shadrach!” he pleaded. “Don't + be so profane. Remember you've just come from the graveyard.” + </p> + <p> + “Come from it! By fire! There was a time there when I'd have been willin' + to go to it—yes, and stay. All I wanted was to get out of that room + and hide somewheres where folks couldn't look at me. I give you my word I + could feel myself heatin' up like an airtight stove. Good thing I didn't + have on a celluloid collar or 'twould have bust into a blaze. Of all the + dummed outrages to spring on a man, that—” + </p> + <p> + “Shadrach!” + </p> + <p> + “There, there, Zoeth! I'll calm down. But as for swearin'—well, if + you knew how full of cusswords I was there one spell you wouldn't find + fault; you'd thank me for holdin' 'em in. I had to batten down my hatches + to do it, though; I tell you that.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Hamilton turned to their host. “You'll excuse Shadrach, won't you, + Judge,” he said, apologetically. “He don't mean nothin' wicked, really. + And he feels as bad as I do about Marcellus's bein' took.” + </p> + <p> + “Course I do!” put in the Captain. “Zoeth's always scared to death for + fear I'm bound to the everlastin' brimstone. He forgets I've been to sea a + good part of my life and that a feller has to talk strong aboard ship. + Common language may do for keepin' store, but it don't get a vessel + nowheres; the salt sort of takes the tang out of it, seems so. I'm through + for the present, Zoeth. I'll keep the rest till I meet the swab that + loaded up that chair for me.” + </p> + <p> + The Judge laughed again. Then he opened his desk and took from a drawer + two folded papers. + </p> + <p> + “Gentlemen,” he said, gravely, “I asked you to come here with me because + there is an important matter, a very important matter, which I, as Captain + Hall's legal adviser, must discuss with you.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Shadrach and Zoeth looked at each other. The former tugged at his + beard. + </p> + <p> + “Hum!” he mused. “Somethin' to do with Marcellus's affairs, is it?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Want to know! And somethin' to do with me and Zoeth?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, with both of you. This,” holding up one of the folded papers, “is + Captain Hall's will. I drew it for him a year ago and he has appointed me + his executor.” + </p> + <p> + Zoeth nodded. “We supposed likely he would,” he observed. + </p> + <p> + “Couldn't get a better man,” added Shadrach, with emphasis. + </p> + <p> + “Thank you. Captain Hall leaves all he possessed—practically all; + there is a matter of two hundred dollars for his housekeeper, Mrs. Hobbs, + and a few other personal gifts—but he leaves practically all he + possessed to his stepdaughter, Mary Lathrop.” + </p> + <p> + Both his hearers nodded again. “We expected that, naturally,” said the + Captain. “It's what he'd ought to have done, of course. Well, she'll be + pretty well fixed, won't she?” + </p> + <p> + Judge Baxter shook his head. “Why, no—she won't,” he said, soberly. + “That is a part of the surprise which I mentioned at first. Captain Hall + was, practically, a poor man when he died.” + </p> + <p> + That the prophesied surprise was now a reality was manifest. Both men + looked aghast. + </p> + <p> + “You—you don't mean that, Judge?” gasped Zoeth. + </p> + <p> + “Poor? Marcellus poor?” cried Shadrach. “Why—why, what kind of + talk's that? He didn't have no more than the rest of us when—” he + hesitated, glanced at Zoeth, and continued, “when the firm give up + business back in '79; but he went to sea again and made considerable, and + then he made a whole lot in stocks. I know he did. You know it, too, + Zoeth. How could he be poor?” + </p> + <p> + “Because, like so many other fortunate speculators, he continued to + speculate and became unfortunate. He lost the bulk of his winnings in the + stock market and—well, to be quite frank, Captain Hall has been a + broken man, mentally as well as physically, since his wife's death and his + own serious illness. You, yourselves, must have noticed the change in his + habits. From being an active man, a man of affairs, he became almost a + hermit. He saw but few people, dropped the society of all his old friends, + and lived alone—alone except for his various housekeepers and + Mary-'Gusta—the little girl, I mean. You must have noticed the + change in his relations with you.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Hamilton sighed. “Yes,” he said, “we noticed he never came to see us + and—and—” + </p> + <p> + “And wasn't over'n above sociable when we come to see him,” finished + Captain Shadrach. “Yes, we noticed that. But I say, Judge, he must have + had SOME money left. What became of it?” + </p> + <p> + “Goodness knows! He was a child, so far as money matters went, in his + later years. Very likely he frittered it away in more stock ventures; I + know he bought a lot of good for nothing mining shares. At any rate it has + gone, all except a few thousands. The house and land where he lived is + mortgaged up to the handle, and I imagine there are debts, a good many of + them. But whatever there is is left to Mary-'Gusta—everyone calls + her that and I seem to have caught the habit. It is left to her—in + trust.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Shadrach thought this over. “In trust with you, I presume likely,” + he observed. “Well, as I said afore, he couldn't have found a better man.” + </p> + <p> + “HE thought he could, two better men. I rather think he was right. You are + the two, gentlemen.” + </p> + <p> + This statement did not have the effect which the Judge expected. He + expected exclamations and protests. Instead his visitors looked at each + other and at him in a puzzled fashion. + </p> + <p> + “Er—er—what was that?” queried Mr. Hamilton. “I didn't exactly + seem to catch that, somehow or 'nother.” + </p> + <p> + Judge Baxter turned to the Captain. + </p> + <p> + “You understood me, didn't you, Captain Gould?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + Shadrach shook his head. + </p> + <p> + “Why—why, no,” he stammered; “it didn't seem to soak in, somehow. + Cal'late my head must have stopped goin'; maybe the shock I had a spell + ago broke the mainspring. All I seem to be real sartin of just now is that + the Campbells are comin'. What was it you said?” + </p> + <p> + “I said that Captain Marcellus Hall has left whatever property he owned, + after his creditors are satisfied, to his stepdaughter. He has left it in + trust until she becomes of age. And he asks you two to accept that trust + and the care of the child. Is that plain?” + </p> + <p> + It was plain and they understood. But with understanding came, apparently, + a species of paralysis of the vocal organs. Zoeth turned pale and leaned + back in his chair. Shadrach's mouth opened and closed several times, but + he said nothing. + </p> + <p> + “Of course,” went on Baxter, “before I say any more I think you should be + told this: It was Captain Hall's wish that you jointly accept the + guardianship of Mary-'Gusta—of the girl—that she live with you + and that you use whatever money comes to her from her stepfather's estate + in educating and clothing her. Also, of course, that a certain sum each + week be paid you from that estate as her board. That was Marcellus's wish; + but it is a wish, nothing more. It is not binding upon you in any way. You + have a perfect right to decline and—” + </p> + <p> + Captain Shadrach interrupted. + </p> + <p> + “Heave to!” he ordered, breathlessly. “Come up into the wind a minute, for + mercy sakes! Do you mean to say that me and Zoeth are asked to take that + young-one home with us, and take care of her, and dress her, and—and + eat her, and bring her up and—and—” + </p> + <p> + He paused, incoherent in his excitement. The Judge nodded. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” he replied, “that is what he asks you to do. But, as I say, you are + not obliged to do it; there is no legal obligation. You can say no, if you + think it best.” + </p> + <p> + “If we think—for thunder sakes, Baxter, what was the matter with + Marcellus? Was he out of his head? Was he loony?” + </p> + <p> + “No, he was perfectly sane.” + </p> + <p> + “Then—then, what—Zoeth,” turning wildly to Mr. Hamilton, who + still sat, pale and speechless, in his chair; “Zoeth,” he demanded, “did + you ever hear such craziness in your life? Did you ever HEAR such stuff?” + </p> + <p> + Zoeth merely shook his head. His silence appeared to add to his friend's + excitement. + </p> + <p> + “Did you?” he roared. + </p> + <p> + Zoeth muttered something to the effect that he didn't know as he ever did. + </p> + <p> + “You don't know! Yes, you do know, too. Speak up, why don't you? Don't sit + there like a ship's figgerhead, starin' at nothin'. You know it's + craziness as well's I do. For God sakes, say somethin'! TALK!” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Hamilton talked—to this extent: + </p> + <p> + “Hush, Shadrach,” he faltered. “Don't be profane.” + </p> + <p> + “Profane! Pup-pup-profane! You set there and—and—Oh, jumpin', + creepin' Judas! I—I—” Language—even his language—failed + to express his feelings and he waved his fists and sputtered. Baxter + seized the opportunity. + </p> + <p> + “Before you make your decision, gentlemen,” he said, “I hope you will + consider the situation carefully. The girl is only seven years old; she + has no relations anywhere, so far as we know. If you decline the trust a + guardian will have to be appointed by the courts, I suppose. Who that + guardian will be, or what will become of the poor child I'm sure I don't + know. And Captain Marcellus was perfectly sane; he knew what he was + doing.” + </p> + <p> + Shadrach interrupted. + </p> + <p> + “He did!” he shouted. “Well, then, I must say—” + </p> + <p> + “Just a minute, please, I have a letter here which he wrote at the time he + made his will. It is addressed to both of you. Here it is. Shall I read it + to you, or had you rather read it yourselves?” + </p> + <p> + Zoeth answered. “I guess maybe you'd better read it, Judge,” he said. “I + don't cal'late Shadrach nor me are capable of readin' much of anything + just this minute. You read it. Shadrach, you be still now and listen.” + </p> + <p> + The Captain opened his mouth and raised a hand. “Be still, Shadrach,” + repeated Zoeth. The hand fell. Captain Gould sighed. + </p> + <p> + “All right, Zoeth,” he said. “I'll keep my batch closed long's I can. + Heave ahead, Judge.” + </p> + <p> + The letter was a long one, covering several sheets of foolscap. It began: + </p> + <p> + To Shadrach, Gould and Zoeth Hamilton, my old partners and friends. + </p> + <p> + DEAR SHAD AND ZOETH: + </p> + <p> + I am writing this to you because I have known you pretty much all my life + and you are the only real friends I have got in this world. + </p> + <p> + “I was his friend, or I tried to be,” commented Baxter, interrupting his + reading; “but he considered you two, and always spoke of you, as his + oldest and nearest friends. He has often told me that he knew he could + depend on you. Now listen.” + </p> + <p> + The letter went on to state that the writer realized his health was no + longer good, that he was likely to die at any time and was quite + reconciled. + </p> + <p> + I should be glad to go [Captain Hall had written], if it was not for one + thing. Since my wife was took from me I care precious little for life and + the sooner it ends the better. That is the way I look at it. But I have a + stepdaughter, Mary Augusta Lathrop, and for her sake I must stick to the + ship as long as I can. I have not been the right kind of father to her. I + have tried, but I don't seem to know how and I guess likely I was too old + to learn. When I go she won't have a relation to look out for her. That + has troubled me a lot and I have thought about it more than a little, I + can tell you. And so I have decided to leave her in your care. I am hoping + you will take charge of her and bring her up to be a good girl and a good + woman, same as her mother was before her. I know you two will be just the + ones for the job. + </p> + <p> + “Jumpin' fire!” broke in Shadrach, the irrepressible. + </p> + <p> + “Hush, Shadrach,” continued Mr. Hamilton. “Go on, Judge.” + </p> + <p> + Baxter continued his reading. The letter told of the will, of the + property, whatever it might be, left in trust for the child, and of the + writer's desire that it might be used, when turned into money, for her + education. There were two pages of rambling references to stocks and + investments, the very vagueness of these references proving the weakening + shrewdness and lack of business acumen of Captain Hall in his later years. + Then came this: + </p> + <p> + When this first comes to you I know you will both feel you are not fitted + to take charge of my girl. You will say that neither of you has had any + children of his own and you have not got experience in that line. But I + have thought it over and I know I am right. I couldn't find better pilots + afloat or ashore. Shadrach has been to sea and commanded vessels and is + used to giving orders and having them carried out. He sailed mate with me + for a good many voyages and was my partner ashore. I know him from truck + to keelson. He is honest and able and can handle any craft. He will keep + the girl on the course she ought to sail in her schooling and such and see + she does not get on the rocks or take to cruising in bad company. Zoeth + has had the land training. He is a pious man and as good outside the + church as he is in, which is not always the case according to my + experience. He has the name all up and down the Cape of being a square, + honest storekeeper. He will look out for Mary's religious bringing up and + learn her how to keep straight and think square. You are both of you + different from each other in most ways but you are each of you honest and + straight in his own way. I don't leave Mary in the care of one but in the + charge of both. I know I am right. + </p> + <p> + “He said that very thing to me a good many times,” put in the Judge. “He + seemed to feel that the very fact of your being men of different training + and habits of thought made the combination ideal. Between you, so he + seemed to think, the girl could not help but grow up as she should. I am + almost through; there is a little more.” + </p> + <p> + I want you fellows to do this for my sake. I know you will, after you have + thought it over. You and I have been through good times and bad together. + We have made money and we have seen it go faster than it came. Shad has + seen his savings taken away from him, partly because I trusted where he + did not, and he never spoke a word of complaint nor found a mite of fault. + Zoeth has borne my greatest trouble with me and though his share was far + away bigger than mine, he kept me from breaking under it. I have not seen + as much of you lately as I used to see, but that was my fault. Not my + fault exactly, maybe, but my misfortune. I have not been the man I was and + seeing you made me realize it. That is why I have not been to South + Harniss and why I acted so queer when you came here. I was sort of + ashamed, I guess. You remember when the old Hall and Company firm started + business there were four of us who agreed to stick by each other through + foul weather and fair till we died. One of that four broke his promise and + pretty nigh wrecked us all, as he did wreck the firm. Now I am asking you + two to stick by me and mine. I am trusting and believing that you are + going to do it as I write this. When you read it I shan't be on hand. But, + if I am where I can see and hear I shall still be believing you will do + this last favor for your old messmate. + </p> + <p> + MARCELLUS. + </p> + <p> + Judge Baxter folded the sheets of foolscap and laid them on the table. + Then he took off his spectacles and wiped them with his handkerchief. + </p> + <p> + “Well, gentlemen?” he said, after a moment. + </p> + <p> + Captain Gould drew a long breath. + </p> + <p> + “I don't think it's well,” he observed. “I think it's about as sick as it + can be, and I cal'late Zoeth feels the same; eh, Zoeth?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Hamilton did not answer. He neither spoke nor moved. + </p> + <p> + “Of course,” said the lawyer, “it is not necessary that you make up your + minds this instant. You will probably wish a few days to think the matter + over in and then you can let me know what you decide. You have heard the + letter and I have explained the situation. Are there any questions you + would like to ask?” + </p> + <p> + Shadrach shook his head. + </p> + <p> + “No, not far's I'm concerned,” he said. “My mind is made up now. I did + think there wasn't anything I wouldn't do for Marcellus. And I would have + done anything in reason. But this ain't reason—it's what I called it + in the beginnin', craziness. Me and Zoeth can't go crazy for anybody.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you decline?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir; I'm mighty sorry but of course we can't do such a thing. Me and + Zoeth, one of us a bach all his life, and t'other one a—a widower + for twenty years, for us to take a child to bring up! My soul and body! + Havin' hung on to the heft of our senses so far, course we decline! We + can't do nothin' else.” + </p> + <p> + “And you, Mr. Hamilton?” + </p> + <p> + Zoeth appeared to hesitate. Then he asked: + </p> + <p> + “What sort of a girl is she?” + </p> + <p> + “Mary-'Gusta? She's a bright child, and a well-behaved one, generally + speaking. Rather old for her years, and a little—well, peculiar. + That isn't strange, considering the life she has led since her mother's + death. But she is a good girl and a pretty little thing. I like her; so + does my wife.” + </p> + <p> + “That was her at the cemetery, wasn't it? She was with that Hobbs woman?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “I thought so. Shadrach and I met her when we was over here two years ago. + I thought the one at the graveyard was her. Poor little critter! Where is + she now; at the house—at Marcellus's?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; that is, I suppose she is.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you—do you cal'late we could see her if we went there now?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I am sure you could.” + </p> + <p> + Zoeth rose. + </p> + <p> + “Come on, Shadrach,” he said, “let's go.” + </p> + <p> + The Captain stared at him. + </p> + <p> + “Go?” he repeated. “Where? Home, do you mean?” + </p> + <p> + “No, not yet. I mean over to Marcellus's to see that little girl.” + </p> + <p> + “Zoeth Hamilton! Do you mean to tell me—What do you want to see her + for? Do you want to make it harder for her and for us and for all hands? + What good is seein' her goin' to do? Ain't it twice as easy to say no now + and be done with it?” + </p> + <p> + “I suppose likely 'twould be, but it wouldn't be right Marcellus asked us + to do this thing for him and—” + </p> + <p> + “Jumpin' Judas! ASKED us! Do you mean to say you're thinkin' of doin' what + he asked? Are you loony, too? Are you—” + </p> + <p> + “Shh, Shadrach! He asked us, as a last favor, to take charge of his girl. + I feel as you do that we can't do it, 'tain't sensible nor possible for us + to do it, but—” + </p> + <p> + “There ain't any buts.” + </p> + <p> + “But the very least we can do is go and see her and talk to her.” + </p> + <p> + “What for? So we'll feel meaner and more sneaky when we HAVE to say no? I + shan't go to see her.” + </p> + <p> + “All right. Then I shall. You can wait here for me till I come back.” + </p> + <p> + “Hold on, Zoeth! Hold on! Don't—” + </p> + <p> + But Mr. Hamilton was at the door and did not turn back. Judge Baxter, who + was following him, spoke. + </p> + <p> + “Sit right here, Captain,” he said. “Make yourself as comfortable as you + can. We shan't be long.” + </p> + <p> + For an instant Shadrach remained where he was. Then he, too, sprang to his + feet. He overtook the lawyer just as the latter reached the side door. + </p> + <p> + “Hello, Captain,” exclaimed Baxter, “changed your mind?” + </p> + <p> + “Changed nothin'. Zoeth's makin' a fool of himself and I know it, but he + ain't goin' to be a fool ALL by himself. I've seen him try it afore and + 'tain't safe.” + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean?” + </p> + <p> + The Captain grunted scornfully. + </p> + <p> + “I mean there's safety in numbers, whether it's the number of fools or + anything else,” he said. “One idiot's a risky proposition, but two or + three in a bunch can watch each other. Come on, Judge, and be the third.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0003" id="link2HCH0003"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER III + </h2> + <p> + The white house on Phinney's Hill looked desolate and mournful when the + buggy containing Judge Baxter and his two companions drove into the yard. + The wagon belonging to Mr. Hallett, the undertaker, was at the front door, + and Hallett and his assistant were loading in the folding chairs. Mr. + Hallett was whistling a popular melody, but, somehow or other, the music + only emphasized the lonesomeness. There is little cheer in an undertaker's + whistle. + </p> + <p> + Captain Gould, acting under the Judge's orders, piloted his horse up the + driveway and into the back yard. The animal was made fast to the back + fence and the three men alighted from the buggy and walked up to the side + door of the house. + </p> + <p> + “Say, Judge,” whispered the Captain, as they halted by the step, “you + don't cal'late I can find out who loaded up that music-box chair on me, do + you? If I could meet that feller for two or three minutes I might feel + more reconciled at bein' fool enough to come over here.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Hobbs answered the knock at the door—she invited them in. When + told that they had come to see Mary-'Gusta she sniffed. + </p> + <p> + “She's in her room,” she said, rather sharply. “She hadn't ought to be let + out, but of course if you want to see her, Judge Baxter, I presume likely + she'll have to be. I'll go fetch her.” + </p> + <p> + “Wait a minute, Mrs. Hobbs,” said Baxter. “What's the matter? Has the + child been behaving badly?” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Hobbs' lean fingers clinched. “Behavin' badly!” she repeated. “I + should say she had! I never was so mortified in my life. And at her own + father's funeral, too!” + </p> + <p> + “What has she done?” + </p> + <p> + “Done? She—” Mrs. Hobbs hesitated, glanced at Captain Shadrach, and + left her sentence unfinished. “Never mind what she done,” she went on. “I + can't tell you now; I declare I'd be ashamed to. I'll go get her.” + </p> + <p> + She marched from the room. Zoeth rubbed his forehead. + </p> + <p> + “She seems sort of put out, don't she,” he observed, mildly. + </p> + <p> + Baxter nodded. “Susan Hobbs has the reputation of getting 'put out' pretty + often,” he said. “She has a temper and it isn't a long one.” + </p> + <p> + “Has she been takin' care of Marcellus's girl?” asked Zoeth. + </p> + <p> + “Yes. As much care as the child has had.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Shad snorted. It was evident that the housekeeper's manner had not + impressed him favorably. + </p> + <p> + “Humph!” he said. “I'd hate to have her take care of me, judgin' by the + way she looked just now. Say,” hopefully, “do you suppose SHE was the one + fixed that chair?” + </p> + <p> + They heard Mrs. Hobbs on the floor above, shouting: + </p> + <p> + “Mary-'Gusta! Mary-'Gusta! Where are you? Answer me this minute!” + </p> + <p> + “Don't seem to be in that room she was talkin' about,” grumbled Shadrach. + “Tut! Tut! What a voice that is! Got a rasp to it like a rusty saw.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Hobbs was heard descending the stairs. Her face, when she reentered + the sitting-room, was red and she looked more “put out” than ever. + </p> + <p> + “She ain't there,” she answered, angrily. “She's gone.” + </p> + <p> + “Gone?” repeated Zoeth and Shadrach in chorus. + </p> + <p> + “Gone?” repeated the Judge. “Do you mean she's run away?” + </p> + <p> + “No, no! She ain't run away—not for good; she knows better than + that. She's sneaked off and hid, I suppose. But I know where she is. I'll + have her here in a minute.” + </p> + <p> + She was hurrying out again, but the Captain detained her. + </p> + <p> + “Wait!” he commanded. “What's that you say? You know where she is?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, or I can guess. Nine chances to one she's out in that barn.” + </p> + <p> + “In the barn? What's she doin' there—playin' horse?” + </p> + <p> + “No, no. She's hidin' in the carriage room. Seems as if the child was + possessed to get out in that dusty place and perch herself in the old + carryall. She calls it her playhouse and you'd think 'twas Heaven the way + she loves to stay there. But today of all days! And with her best clothes + on! And after I expressly told her—” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes; all right. Humph! Well, Zoeth, what do you say? Shall we go to + Heaven and hunt for her? Maybe 'twill be the only chance some of us'll + get, you can't tell,” with a wink at Baxter. + </p> + <p> + “Hush, Shadrach! How you do talk!” protested the shocked Mr. Hamilton. + </p> + <p> + “Let's go out to the barn and find the young-one ourselves,” said the + Captain. “Seems the simplest thing to do, don't it?” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Hobbs interrupted. + </p> + <p> + “You don't need to go at all,” she declared. “I'll get her and bring her + here. Perhaps she ain't there, anyway.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, if she ain't there we can come back again. Come on, boys.” + </p> + <p> + He led the way to the door. The housekeeper would have accompanied them, + but he prevented her doing so. + </p> + <p> + “Don't you trouble yourself, ma'am,” he said. “We'll find her. I'm older'n + I used to be, but I ain't so blind but what I can locate a barn without a + spyglass.” + </p> + <p> + “It won't be any trouble,” protested the lady. + </p> + <p> + “I know, but it might be. We'll go alone.” + </p> + <p> + When the three were in the back yard, and the discomfited housekeeper was + watching them from the door, he added: + </p> + <p> + “I don't know why that woman rubs my fur the wrong way, but she does. + Isaiah Chase says he don't like mosquitoes 'cause they get on his nerves. + I never thought I wore my nerves on the back of my neck, which is where + Isaiah gets skeeter-bit mostly, but anyhow, wherever they be, that Hobbs + woman bothers 'em. There's the barn, ain't it? Don't look very heavenly, + but it may seem that way after a spell in t'other place. Now where's the + carriage room?” + </p> + <p> + The door of the carriage room was open, and they entered. A buggy and the + muslin draped surrey were there, but no living creature was in sight. They + listened, but heard nothing. + </p> + <p> + “Mary! Mary-'Gusta!” called Baxter. “Are you here?” + </p> + <p> + No answer. And then, from beneath the cover of the surrey, appeared a fat + tortoise-shell cat, who jumped lightly to the floor, yawned, stretched, + and blinked suspiciously at the visitors. + </p> + <p> + “Humph!” grunted Captain Shadrach. “There's one stowaway, anyhow. Maybe + there's another; I've had 'em come aboard in pairs.” + </p> + <p> + The Judge walked over to the surrey, and raised the cover. From behind it + came a frightened little squeal. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, there you are!” said Baxter. “Mary-'Gusta, is that you?” + </p> + <p> + There was a rustle, a sob, and then a timid voice said, chokingly, “Yes, + sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Come out,” said the Judge, kindly. “Come out; here are some friends who + want to meet you.” + </p> + <p> + Another sob and then: “I—I don't want to.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes, you do. We won't hurt you. We only want to see you and talk with + you, that's all. Come, that's a good girl.” + </p> + <p> + “I—I ain't a good girl.” + </p> + <p> + “Never mind. We want to see you, anyway. I guess you're not very bad.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I—I am. Is—is Mrs. Hobbs there?” + </p> + <p> + “No. Come now, please.” + </p> + <p> + A moment's wait, then, from beneath the cover, appeared a small foot and + leg, the latter covered by a black stocking. The foot wiggled about, + feeling for the step. It found it, the cover was thrown aside and + Mary-'Gusta appeared, a pathetic little figure, with rumpled hair and + tear-stained cheeks. Rose and Rosette, the two dolls, were hugged in her + arms. + </p> + <p> + Judge Baxter patted her on the head. Zoeth and Shadrach looked solemn and + ill at ease. Mary-'Gusta looked at the floor and sniffed dolefully. + </p> + <p> + “Mary-'Gusta,” said the Judge, “these two gentlemen are old friends of + your father's and,” with a pardonable stretching of the truth, “they have + come all the way from South Harniss to meet you. Now you must shake hands + with them. They like little girls.” + </p> + <p> + Mary-'Gusta obediently moved forward, shifted Rosette to the arm clasping + Rose, and extended a hand. Slowly she raised her eyes, saw Mr. Hamilton's + mild, gentle face and then, beside it, the face of Captain Shadrach Gould. + With a cry she dropped both dolls, ran back to the surrey and fumbled + frantically with the dust cover. + </p> + <p> + Baxter, surprised and puzzled, ran after her and prevented her climbing + into the carriage. + </p> + <p> + “Why, Mary-'Gusta,” he demanded, “what is the matter?” + </p> + <p> + The child struggled and then, bursting into a storm of sobs, hid her face + in the dust cover. + </p> + <p> + “I—I didn't mean to,” she sobbed, wildly. “I didn't mean to. Honest + I didn't. I—I didn't know. I didn't mean to. Please don't let him. + PLEASE!” + </p> + <p> + The Judge held her close and did his best to calm her. + </p> + <p> + “There, there, child,” he said. “No one's going to hurt you.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes—yes, they are. Mrs. Hobbs said she shouldn't wonder if he + knocked my—my head right off.” + </p> + <p> + “Knocked your head off! Who?” + </p> + <p> + “Him.” + </p> + <p> + She raised her hand and pointed a shaking finger straight at Captain + Shadrach. + </p> + <p> + All three of her hearers were surprised, of course, but in the case of the + Captain himself amazement was coupled with righteous indignation. + </p> + <p> + “Wha-what?” he stammered. “Who said so? What kind of talk's that? Said I + was goin' to knock your head off? I was?” + </p> + <p> + Baxter laughed. “No, no, Mary-'Gusta,” he said; “you're mistaken. Mrs. + Hobbs couldn't have said any such thing. You're mistaken, dear.” + </p> + <p> + “No, I ain't,” with another sob; “she did say so. She said he would knock + my head—ah—ah—off and—and put me in jail, too. And + I didn't mean to do it; honest, truly I didn't.” + </p> + <p> + The Judge looked at his companions and shook his head as if the conundrum + was beyond his guessing. Captain Shad groaned. + </p> + <p> + “By fire!” he ejaculated. “All hands have gone loony, young-ones and all. + And,” with conviction, “I'm on the road myself.” + </p> + <p> + Zoeth Hamilton stepped forward and held out his hands. + </p> + <p> + “Come here, dearie,” he said, gently; “come here and tell me all about it. + Neither me nor the Cap'n's goin' to hurt you a mite. We like little girls, + both of us do. Now you come and tell me about it.” + </p> + <p> + Mary-'Gusta's sobs ceased. She looked at the speaker doubtfully. + </p> + <p> + “Come, don't be scared,” begged Zoeth. “We're goin' to be good friends to + you. We knew your father and he thought everything of us. You ain't goin' + to be afraid of folks that was your Pa's chums. You come here and let's + talk it over.” + </p> + <p> + Slowly Mary-'Gusta crossed the room. Zoeth sat down upon an empty box near + the door and lifted the girl to his knee. + </p> + <p> + “Now you ain't afraid of me, be you?” he asked quietly. + </p> + <p> + Mary-'Gusta shook her head, but her big eyes were fixed upon Captain + Shadrach's face. + </p> + <p> + “No-o,” she faltered. “I—I guess I ain't. But you wasn't the one I + did it to. It was him.” + </p> + <p> + Judging by the Captain's expression his conviction that all hands, himself + included, had lost their reason was momentarily growing firmer. + </p> + <p> + “ME?” he gasped. “You done somethin' to me and I—well, by Judas, + this is—” + </p> + <p> + “Hush, Shadrach! What was it you done, Mary, that made you afraid of Cap'n + Gould? Tell me. I won't hurt you and I won't let anybody else.” + </p> + <p> + “YOU won't let—Zoeth Hamilton, I swan, I—” + </p> + <p> + “Be still, Shadrach, for mercy sakes! Now, what was it, dearie?” + </p> + <p> + Mary-'Gusta hesitated. Then she buried her face in Mr. Hamilton's jacket + and sobbed a confession. + </p> + <p> + “I—I made it go,” she cried. “I—I broke the—the catch—and + it was wound up and—and it went off. But I didn't know. I didn't + mean—” + </p> + <p> + “There, there, course you didn't. We know you didn't. What was it that + went off?” + </p> + <p> + “The—the music chair. It was in the corner and Mr. Hallett took it + and—and I couldn't say anything 'cause Mrs. Hobbs said I mustn't + speak a word at the funeral. And—and he set in it and it played and—Oh, + don't let him put me in jail! Please don't.” + </p> + <p> + Another burst of tears. Mary-'Gusta clung tightly to the Hamilton jacket. + Judge Baxter looked as if a light had suddenly broken upon the darkness of + his mind. + </p> + <p> + “I see,” he said. “You were responsible for the 'Campbells.' I see.” + </p> + <p> + Shadrach drew a long breath. + </p> + <p> + “Whew!” he whistled. “So she was the one. Well, I swan!” + </p> + <p> + Zoeth stroked the child's hair. + </p> + <p> + “That's all right, dearie,” he said. “Now don't you worry about that. We + didn't know who did it, but now we do and it's all right. We know you + didn't mean to.” + </p> + <p> + “Won't—won't he knock my head off?” + </p> + <p> + “No, no, course he won't. Tell her so, Shadrach.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Shadrach pulled at his beard. Then he burst into a laugh. + </p> + <p> + “I won't hurt you for nothin', sis,” he said, heartily. “It's all right + and don't you fret about it. Accidents will happen even in the best + regulated—er—funerals; though,” with a broad grin, “I hope + another one like that'll never happen to ME. Now don't you cry any more.” + </p> + <p> + Mary-'Gusta raised her head and regarded him steadily. + </p> + <p> + “Won't I be put in jail?” she asked, more hopefully. + </p> + <p> + “Indeed you won't. I never put anybody in jail in my life; though,” with + an emphatic nod, “there's some folks ought to go there for frightenin' + children out of their senses. Did that Mrs. Hobbs tell you I was goin' to—what + was it?—knock your head off and all the rest?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir, she did.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, she's a—she's what she is. What else did she say to you?” + </p> + <p> + “She—she said I was a bad, wicked child and she hoped I'd be sent to + the—the orphans' home. If she was to have the care of me, she said, + she'd make me walk a chalk or know why. And she sent me to my room and + said I couldn't have any supper.” + </p> + <p> + Zoeth and the Captain looked at each other. Baxter frowned. + </p> + <p> + “On the very day of her father's funeral,” he muttered. + </p> + <p> + “Can't I have any supper?” begged Mary-'Gusta. “I'm awful hungry; I didn't + want much dinner.” + </p> + <p> + Zoeth nodded. His tone, when he spoke, was not so mild as was usual with + him. + </p> + <p> + “You shall have your supper,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “And—and must I go to the orphans' home?” + </p> + <p> + No one answered at once. Zoeth and Captain Shad again looked at each other + and the Judge looked at them both. + </p> + <p> + “Must I?” repeated Mary-'Gusta. “I—I don't want to. I'd rather die, + I guess, and go to Heaven, same as Mother and Father. But Mrs. Hobbs says + they don't have any dolls nor cats in Heaven, so I don't know's I'd want + to go there.” + </p> + <p> + Baxter walked to the window and looked out. Captain Shadrach reached into + his pocket, produced a crumpled handkerchief, and blew his nose violently. + Zoeth stroked the child's hair. + </p> + <p> + “Mary-'Gusta,” he said, after a moment, “how would you like to go over to + South Harniss and—and see me and Cap'n Gould a little while? Just + make us a visit, you know. Think you'd like that?” + </p> + <p> + The Captain started. “Good land, Zoeth!” he exclaimed. “Be careful what + you're sayin'.” + </p> + <p> + “I ain't sayin' anything definite, Shadrach. I know how you feel about it. + I just wanted to see how she felt herself, that's all. Think you'd like + that, Mary-'Gusta?” + </p> + <p> + Mary-'Gusta thought it over. “I guess maybe I would,” she said, “if I + could take my dolls and David. I wouldn't want to leave David. Mrs. Hobbs + don't like cats.” + </p> + <p> + And at that moment Mrs. Hobbs herself appeared in the doorway of the + carriage room. She saw the child and her eyes snapped. + </p> + <p> + “So she was here,” she said. “I thought as much. Mary-'Gusta, what did you + run away from that room for? Didn't I forbid you leavin' it? She's been a + bad girl, Judge Baxter,” she added, “and I can't make her behave. I try my + best, but I'm sure I don't know what to do.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Shadrach thrust both hands into his pockets. + </p> + <p> + “I tell you what to do,” he said, sharply. “You go into the house and put + some of her things into a valise or satchel or somethin'. And hurry up as + fast as you can.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Hobbs was astonished. + </p> + <p> + “Put 'em in a satchel?” she repeated. “What for? Where's she goin'?” + </p> + <p> + “She's goin' home along with me and Zoeth. And she's got to start inside + of half an hour. You hurry.” + </p> + <p> + “But—but—” + </p> + <p> + “There ain't any 'buts'; haven't got time for 'em.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Hamilton regarded his friend with an odd expression. + </p> + <p> + “Shadrach,” he asked, “do you realize what you're sayin'?” + </p> + <p> + “Who's sayin'? You said it, I didn't. Besides takin' her home with us + today don't mean nothin', does it? A visit won't hurt us. Visits don't + bind anybody to anything. Jumpin' Judas! I guess we've got room enough in + the house to have one young-one come visitin' for—for a couple of + days, if we want to. What are you makin' such a fuss about? Here you,” + turning to the housekeeper, “ain't you gone yet? You've got just thirteen + minutes to get that satchel ready.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Hobbs departed, outraged dignity in her walk and manner. + </p> + <p> + “Am—am I goin'?” faltered Mary-'Gusta. + </p> + <p> + Zoeth nodded. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” he said, “you're goin'. Unless, of course, you'd rather stay here.” + </p> + <p> + “No, I'd rather go, if—if I can take David and the dolls. Can I?” + </p> + <p> + “Can she, Shadrach?” + </p> + <p> + Captain Shad, who was pacing the floor, turned savagely. + </p> + <p> + “What do you ask me that for?” he demanded. “This is your doin's, 'tain't + mine. You said it first, didn't you? Yes, yes, let her take the dolls and + cats—and cows and pigs, too, if she wants to. Jumpin' fire! What do + I care? If a feller's bound to be a fool, a little live stock more or less + don't make him any bigger one. . . . Land sakes! I believe she's goin' to + cry again. Don't do that! What's the matter now?” + </p> + <p> + The tears were starting once more in the girl's eyes. + </p> + <p> + “I—I don't think you want me,” she stammered. “If you did you—you + wouldn't talk so.” + </p> + <p> + The Captain was greatly taken aback. He hesitated, tugged at his beard, + and then, walking over to the child, took her by the hand. + </p> + <p> + “Don't you mind the way I talk, Mary-'Gusta,” he said. “I'm liable to talk + 'most any way, but I don't mean nothin' by it. I like little girls, same + as Zoeth said. And I ain't mad about the jig-tune chair, neither. Say,” + with a sudden inspiration; “here we are settin' here and one of our + passengers has left the dock. We got to find that cat, ain't we? What did + you say his name was—Solomon?” + </p> + <p> + “No, sir; David.” + </p> + <p> + “David, sure enough. If I'd been up in Scripture the way Zoeth—Mr. + Hamilton, here—is, I wouldn't have made that mistake, would I? Come + on, let's you and me go find David and break the news to him. Say, he'll + be some surprised to find he's booked for a foreign v'yage, won't he? Come + on, we'll go find him.” + </p> + <p> + Mary-'Gusta slowly rose from Mr. Hamilton's knee. She regarded the Captain + steadily for a moment; then, hand in hand, they left the barn together. + </p> + <p> + Judge Baxter whistled. “Well!” he exclaimed. “I must say I didn't expect + this.” + </p> + <p> + Zoeth smiled. “There ain't many better men than Shadrach Gould,” he + observed, quietly. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0004" id="link2HCH0004"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IV + </h2> + <p> + Mary-'Gusta, even though she lives to be a very old woman, will never + forget that ride to South Harniss. It was the longest ride she had ever + taken, and that of itself would have made it unforgettable. Then, too, she + was going visiting, and she had never been visiting before. Also, she was + leaving Mrs. Hobbs and, for a time at least, that lady could not remind + her of her queerness and badness. More than all, she was going on a + journey, a real journey, like a grown-up or a person in a story, and her + family—David and the dolls—were journeying with her. What the + journey might mean to her, or to what sort of place she was going—these + questions did not trouble her in the least. Childlike, she was quite + satisfied with the wonderful present, and to the future, even the dreaded + orphans' home, she gave not a thought. + </p> + <p> + Perched on the buggy seat, squeezed in between Captain Shad and Mr. + Hamilton, she gazed wide-eyed at the houses and fields and woods along the + roadside. She did not speak, unless spoken to, and the two men spoke but + seldom, each apparently thinking hard. Occasionally the Captain would + sigh, or whistle, or groan, as if his thoughts were disturbing and most + unusual. Once he asked her if she was comfortable. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir,” she said. + </p> + <p> + “Havin' a good time? Like to go to ride, do you?” + </p> + <p> + Mary-'Gusta assumed her most grown-up air. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir,” she said. “I just love to travel. It's been the dream of my + life.” + </p> + <p> + “Gosh! I want to know!” exclaimed the astonished Shadrach; then he shook + his head, chuckled, and ordered the horse to hurry up. + </p> + <p> + The dolls were arranged in a row against the back of the dashboard. In + front of them, and between the Captain's feet and Zoeth's, the battered + satchel containing the child's everyday dress and visiting essentials was + squeezed. Mary-'Gusta's feet stuck straight out and rested on the top of + the satchel. David, in a basket with the lid tied fast, was planted + between the last mentioned feet. David did not appear to share his—or + her—owner's love of travel. The cat wailed lugubriously at + intervals. + </p> + <p> + Zoeth made the next attempt at conversation. + </p> + <p> + “Never been to South Harniss, have you, Mary-'Gusta?” he inquired. + </p> + <p> + “No, sir,” gravely. “But,” remembering the housekeeper's final charge not + to forget her manners, if she had any, “I'm sure I'll like it very much.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, you are, eh? Well, that's nice. What makes you so sure?” + </p> + <p> + Mary-'Gusta reflected. She remembered what Mrs. Bailey had said after a + week's visit in Bayport, which is fourteen miles from Ostable. “I think + everybody enjoys a change of air,” she observed. + </p> + <p> + “My soul and body!” exclaimed Mr. Hamilton. + </p> + <p> + Captain Shad looked down at his small passenger. + </p> + <p> + “How old are you, sis?” he demanded. + </p> + <p> + “I'm seven. But I ain't a sis; I haven't got any brothers or sisters.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! Well, that's a fact, too, now I come to think of it. How old did you + say; seventy, was it?” + </p> + <p> + “No, sir. Seven. Did you think I said seventy?” + </p> + <p> + “Eh? No, I guess not.” + </p> + <p> + “I couldn't be seventy. If I was I'd be lots bigger, you know.” + </p> + <p> + “That's so; I presume likely you would.” + </p> + <p> + More reflection. Then: “If I was seventy I guess you wouldn't have asked + me.” + </p> + <p> + “Sho! Wouldn't I? Why not?” + </p> + <p> + “'Cause grown-up folks don't like to be asked how old they are. I asked + Mrs. Hobbs how old she was once and she didn't like it.” + </p> + <p> + “Didn't she?” + </p> + <p> + “No, sir. She told me to mind my own business.” + </p> + <p> + The Captain laughed aloud. Then, turning to Mr. Hamilton, he said: “Say, + Zoeth, Isaiah'll be a little mite surprised when he sees this craft make + port, eh?” + </p> + <p> + Zoeth smiled. “I shouldn't wonder,” he replied. + </p> + <p> + “Um-hm. I'd like to have a tintype of Isaiah's face. Well, sis—er, + Mary-'Gusta, I mean—there's South Harniss dead ahead. How do you + like the looks of it?” + </p> + <p> + They had emerged from a long stretch of woods and were at the summit of a + little hill. From the crest of this hill the road wound down past an old + cemetery with gray, moss-covered slate tombstones, over a bridge between a + creek and a good-sized pond, on through a clump of pines, where it joined + the main highway along the south shore of the Cape. This highway, in turn, + wound and twisted—there are few straight roads on Cape Cod—between + other and lower hills until it became a village street, the main street of + South Harniss. The sun was low in the west and its light bathed the + clustered roofs in a warm glow, touched windows and vanes with fire, and + twinkled and glittered on the waters of Nantucket Sound, which filled the + whole southern horizon. There was little breeze and the smoke from the + chimneys rose almost straight. So, too, did the smoke from the distant + tugs and steamers. There were two or three schooners far out, and nearer + shore, a sailboat. A pretty picture, one which artists have painted and + summer visitors enthused over many times. + </p> + <p> + To Mary-'Gusta it was new and wonderful. The child was in a mood to like + almost anything just then. Mrs. Hobbs was miles away and the memory of the + music chair and her own disgrace and shame were but memories. She drew a + long breath and looked and looked. + </p> + <p> + “Like it, do you?” asked Zoeth, echoing his friend's question. + </p> + <p> + Mary-'Gusta nodded. “Yes, sir,” she said. “It—it's lovely.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Shadrach nodded. “Best town on earth, if I do say it,” he said, + emphatically. “So you think it's lovely, eh?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir.” Then, pointing, she asked: “Is that your house?” + </p> + <p> + The Captain grinned. “Well, no, not exactly,” he said. “That's the town + hall. Nobody lives there but the selectmen and they ain't permanent + boarders—that is, I have hopes some of 'em 'll move after + town-meetin' day. Our house is over yonder, down nigh the shore.” + </p> + <p> + The old horse pricked up his ears at sight of home and the buggy moved + faster. It rolled through the main street, where the Captain and Mr. + Hamilton were kept busy answering hails and returning bows from citizens, + male and female. Through the more thickly settled portion of the village + it moved, until at a point where there were fewer shops and the houses + were older and less up-to-date, it reached the corner of a narrow cross + road. There it stopped before a frame building bearing the sign, “Hamilton + and Company, Dry Goods, Groceries, Boots and Shoes and Notions.” There was + a narrow platform at the front of the building and upon this platform were + several men, mostly of middle age or older. Mary-'Gusta noticed that most + of these men were smoking. If she had been older she might have noticed + that each man either sat upon the platform steps or leaned against the + posts supporting its roof. Not one was depending solely upon his own + muscles for support; he sat upon or leaned against something wooden and + substantial. + </p> + <p> + As the buggy drew alongside the platform the men evinced considerable + interest. Not enough to make them rise or relinquish support, but + interest, nevertheless. + </p> + <p> + “Hello, Shad!” hailed one. “Home again, be you?” + </p> + <p> + “Pretty big funeral, was it?” drawled another. + </p> + <p> + “Who's that you got aboard?” queried a third. + </p> + <p> + Captain Shadrach did not answer. Mr. Hamilton leaned forward. “Where's + Annabel?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “She's inside,” replied the first questioner. “Want to see her? Hi, Jabe,” + turning his head and addressing one of the group nearest the door, “tell + Annabel, Zoeth and Shad's come.” + </p> + <p> + “Jabe,” who was propped against a post, languidly pushed himself away from + it, opened the door behind him and shouted: “Annabel, come out here!” Then + he slouched back and leaned against the post again. + </p> + <p> + The door opened and a stout, red-faced young woman appeared. She looked + much more like an Eliza than an Annabel. She had a newspaper in her hand. + </p> + <p> + “Hey?” she drawled. “Who was that hollerin'? Was it you, Jabez Hedges?” + </p> + <p> + Jabez did not take the trouble to answer. Instead he took a hand from his + trousers pocket and waved it toward the buggy. Annabel looked; then she + came down the steps. + </p> + <p> + “Hello!” she said. “I see you got back all right.” + </p> + <p> + Zoeth nodded. “How'd you get along in the store?” he asked, anxiously. + “How's business?” + </p> + <p> + “Wasn't none to speak of,” replied Annabel carelessly. “Sold a couple of + spools of cotton and—and some salt pork and sugar. Ezra Howland + bought the pork. He wasn't satisfied; said there wasn't enough lean in it + to suit him, but I let him have it a cent cheaper, so he took it.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Hamilton seemed a trifle disappointed. “Was that all?” he asked, with + a sigh. + </p> + <p> + “Yup. No, 'twa'n't neither, come to think of it. Rastus Young's wife, come + in with her two young-ones and bought some shoes and hats for 'em.” + </p> + <p> + “Did she pay cash?” demanded Captain Shadrach sharply. + </p> + <p> + “No; she said charge 'em up, so I done it. Say, ain't you comin' in pretty + soon? It's 'most my supper time.” + </p> + <p> + Zoeth opened his mouth to answer, but the Captain got ahead of him. + </p> + <p> + “It's our supper time, too,” he said, crisply. “When we've had it you can + have yours. Get dap, January.” + </p> + <p> + The horse, whose name was Major but who was accustomed to being addressed + by almost any name, jogged on. Mr. Hamilton sighed once more. + </p> + <p> + “I'm 'fraid one of us had ought to stayed in the store, Shadrach,” he + said. “Annabel means well, she's real obligin'; but she ain't a good hand + at business.” + </p> + <p> + Shadrach snorted. “Obligin' nothin'!” he retorted. “We're the ones that + was obligin' when we agreed to pay her seventy-five cents for settin' + astern of the counter and readin' the Advocate. I told you when you hired + her that she wasn't good for nothin' but ballast.” + </p> + <p> + “I know, Shadrach. I'd ought to have stayed to home and kept store myself. + But I did feel as if I must go to Marcellus's funeral.” + </p> + <p> + “Sellin' them Youngs a whole passel of stuff and lettin' 'em charge it + up!” went on Shadrach. “They owe us enough now to keep a decent family all + winter. Reg'lar town dead-beats, that's what they are. You couldn't get a + cent out of Rastus Young if you were to run a dredge through him.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Hamilton groaned remorsefully. “If I'd only stayed at home!” he said. + </p> + <p> + “If you'd stayed to home you'd have charged up the stuff just the same as + she did. You're the softest thing, outside of a sponge, in this town. + Anybody can impose on you, and you know it, Zoeth.” + </p> + <p> + Zoeth's habitual mildness gave way to resentment, mild resentment. + </p> + <p> + “Why, Shadrach,” he retorted, “how you talk! You was the one that charged + up the last things Rastus's folks bought. You know you was.” + </p> + <p> + The Captain looked as if he had been caught napping. + </p> + <p> + “Well, what's that got to do with it?” he sputtered. “'Twasn't nothin' but + some corn meal and a few yards of calico. How could I help chargin' it up, + with that woman cryin' and goin' on about their havin' nothin' to eat nor + wear in the house? I couldn't let 'em starve, could I? Nor freeze + neither?” + </p> + <p> + “'Twas only last week she did it,” protested his partner. “Folks don't + freeze in April, seems to me.” + </p> + <p> + “Aw, be still! Don't talk no more about it. By fire!” with a sudden change + of subject and a burst of enthusiasm, “look at that horse, will you! + Turned right in at the gate without my pullin' the helm once or sayin' a + word—knows as much as a Christian, that horse does.” + </p> + <p> + The buggy had rocked and plowed its way over the hummocks and through the + sand of the narrow lane and was at the top of a grass-covered knoll, a + little hill. At the foot of the hill was the beach, strewn with seaweed, + and beyond, the Sound, its waters now a rosy purple in the sunset light. + On the slope of the hill toward the beach stood a low, rambling, white + house, a barn, and several sheds and outbuildings. There were lilac bushes + by the front door of the house, a clam-shell walk from the lane to that + door, and, surrounding the whole, a whitewashed picket fence. A sandy + rutted driveway led from the rear of the house and the entrance of the + barn down to a big gate, now wide open. It was through this gateway and + along this drive that the sagacious Major was pulling the buggy. + </p> + <p> + Mary-'Gusta stared at the house. As she stared the back door was thrown + open and a tall, thin man came out. He was in his shirtsleeves, his arms + were bare to the elbow, and to Mary-'Gusta's astonishment he wore an + apron, a gingham apron similar to those worn by Mrs. Hobbs when at work in + the kitchen. + </p> + <p> + “Ahoy, there, Isaiah!” hailed the Captain. “Here we are.” + </p> + <p> + The man with the apron took a big nickel watch from the upper pocket of + his vest, looked at it, and shook his head. Upon his face, which was long + and thin like the rest of him, there was a grieved expression. + </p> + <p> + “A little mite late, ain't we, Isaiah?” said Zoeth, hastily. “Hope we + ain't kept supper waitin' too long?” + </p> + <p> + The tall man returned the watch to the pocket. + </p> + <p> + “Only twenty-three minutes, that's all,” he drawled, with the resignation + of a martyr. “Twenty-three minutes ain't much in a lifetime, maybe—but + it don't help fried potatoes none. Them potatoes was ready at half-past + five.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, 'tain't six yet,” protested Captain Shad. + </p> + <p> + “Maybe 'tain't, but it's twenty-three minutes later'n half-past five. Last + thing you said to me was, 'Have supper ready at half-past five!' I had it + ready. Them potatoes went on the fire at—” + </p> + <p> + “There! there!” interrupted the Captain. “Never mind the potatoes. We'll + 'tend to them in a minute. Give us a hand with this dunnage. There's a + satchel here and some more stuff. Sooner this craft's unloaded the sooner + we can eat. All ashore that's goin' ashore.” + </p> + <p> + Zoeth climbed out of the buggy. He lifted their passenger to the ground. + </p> + <p> + “Mary-'Gusta,” he said, “here's where Cap'n Gould and I live. This is Mr. + Isaiah Chase. Isaiah, this is Mary Lathrop, Cap'n Marcellus's little girl. + She's come to—t—” + </p> + <p> + “To make us a little visit,” put in the Captain, promptly. “You want to + get acquainted with Isaiah, Mary-'Gusta; he's cook and steward for me and + Mr. Zoeth. That's right; shake hands and be sociable.” + </p> + <p> + Mary-'Gusta extended her hand and Mr. Chase, after wiping his own hand on + the apron, pumped hers up and down. + </p> + <p> + “Pleased to meet you,” he said, solemnly. + </p> + <p> + “Now for the dunnage,” said Captain Shad. “There's the satchel and—and + the other things. Look out for that basket! LOOK OUT!” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Chase had seized the basket and swung it out of the buggy. David, + frightened at the sudden aerial ascension, uttered a howl. Isaiah dropped + the basket as if it was red hot. + </p> + <p> + “What in tunket!” he exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + “Nothin' but a cat,” explained the Captain. “'Twon't hurt you.” + </p> + <p> + “A cat! What—whose cat?” + </p> + <p> + “Mine,” said Mary-'Gusta, running to the rescue. “He's a real good cat. He + ain't cross; he's scared, that's all. Honest, he ain't cross. Are you, + David?” + </p> + <p> + David howled and clawed at the cover of the basket. Mr. Chase backed away. + </p> + <p> + “A cat!” he repeated. “You fetched a cat—here?” + </p> + <p> + “Sartin we fetched it.” Captain Shadrach was evidently losing patience. + “Did you think we'd fetch an elephant? Now get out them—them doll + babies and things.” + </p> + <p> + Isaiah stared at the dolls. Mary-'Gusta stopped patting the basket and + hastened to the side of the buggy. “I'll take the dollies,” she said. + “They're mine, too.” + </p> + <p> + A moment later they entered the house. Mary-'Gusta bore three of the + dolls. Mr. Hamilton carried the other two, and Isaiah, with the valise in + one hand and the basket containing the shrieking David at arm's length in + the other, led the way. Captain Shad, after informing them that he would + be aboard in a jiffy, drove on to the barn. + </p> + <p> + The room they first entered was the kitchen. It was small, rather untidy, + and smelt strongly of fish and the fried potatoes. + </p> + <p> + “Come right along with me, Mary-'Gusta,” said Zoeth. “Fetch the satchel, + Isaiah.” + </p> + <p> + “Hold on,” shouted the perturbed “cook and steward.” “What—what in + the nation will I do with this critter?” + </p> + <p> + The “critter” was David, who was apparently turning somersaults in the + basket. + </p> + <p> + Zoeth hesitated. Mary-'Gusta settled the question. + </p> + <p> + “Put him right down, please,” she said. “He'll be better soon as he's put + down. He's never traveled before and it's kind of strange to him. He'll be + all right and I'll come back and let him out pretty soon. Mayn't I, Mr.—Mr. + Chase?” + </p> + <p> + “Huh? Yes, yes, you can if you want to, I cal'late. I don't want to, + that's sure.” + </p> + <p> + He deposited the basket on the floor at his feet. Mary-'Gusta looked at it + rather dubiously and for an instant seemed about to speak, but she did + not, and followed Mr. Hamilton from the kitchen, through the adjoining + room, evidently the dining-room, and up a narrow flight of stairs. + </p> + <p> + “I cal'late we'll put her in the spare room, won't we, Isaiah?” queried + Zoeth, with some hesitation. + </p> + <p> + Isaiah grunted. “Guess so,” he said, ungraciously, “Ain't no other place + that I know of. Bed ain't made, though.” + </p> + <p> + The spare room was of good size, and smelled shut up and musty, as spare + rooms in the country usually do. It was furnished with a bureau, + washstand, and two chairs, each painted in a robin's egg blue with sprays + of yellow roses. There were several pictures on the walls, their subjects + religious and mournful. The bed was, as Mr. Chase had said, not made; in + fact it looked as if it had not been made for some time. + </p> + <p> + “I've been cal'latin' to make up that bed for more'n a month,” explained + Isaiah. “Last time 'twas unmade was when Zoeth had that minister from + Trumet here of a Saturday and Sunday. Every day I've cal'lated to make up + that bed, but I don't seem to get no time. I'm so everlastin' busy I don't + get time for nothin', somehow.” + </p> + <p> + “I can make the bed,” declared Mary-'Gusta, eagerly. “I can make beds real + well. Mrs. Hobbs told me so—once.” + </p> + <p> + The two men looked at each other. Before either could speak a tremendous + racket broke out on the floor below, a sound of something—or + somebody—tumbling about, a roar in a human voice and a feline + screech. Mary-'Gusta rushed for the stairs. + </p> + <p> + “I knew he would,” she said, frantically. “I was afraid somebody would. It + was RIGHT in front of the door. Oh! David, dear! I'm a-comin'! I'm + a-comin'!” + </p> + <p> + From the kitchen came Captain Shadrach's voice. It sounded excited and + angry. + </p> + <p> + “Who in blazes left that dum critter right under my feet?” he hollered. “I—I + swan, I believe I've broke my neck—or his—one or t'other.” + </p> + <p> + When Zoeth and Isaiah reached the kitchen they found the Captain sitting + in a chair, rubbing his knees, and Mary-'Gusta seated on the floor beside + the open basket, hugging the frightened and struggling David. + </p> + <p> + “I—I guess he's all right,” panted the child. “I was so afraid he'd + be killed. You ain't killed, are you, David?” + </p> + <p> + David appeared to be remarkably sound and active. He wriggled from his + owner's arms and bolted under the stove. + </p> + <p> + “No; he's all right,” said Mary-'Gusta. “Isn't it nice he ain't hurt, Mr.—I + mean Cap'n Gould?” + </p> + <p> + Captain Shad rubbed his knee. “Um—yes,” he said, with elaborate + sarcasm; “it's lovely. Course I don't mind breakin' both MY legs, but if + that cat had been—er—bruised or anything I should have felt + bad. Well, Isaiah,” he added, tartly, turning to the grinning “steward,” + “are them fried potatoes of yours real or just in your mind?” + </p> + <p> + “Eh? Why—why they're right there on the stove, Cap'n Shad.” + </p> + <p> + “Want to know! Then suppose you put 'em on the table. I'm hungry and I'd + like to eat one more square meal afore somethin' else happens to finish me + altogether. By fire! if this ain't been a day! First that chair, and then + that will and letter of Marcellus's, and then this. Humph! Come on, all + hands, let's eat supper. I need somethin' solid to brace me up for + tomorrow's program; if it's up to this, I'll need strength to last it + through. Come on!” + </p> + <p> + That first supper in the white house by the shore was an experience for + Mary-'Gusta. Mrs. Hobbs, in spite of her faultfinding and temper, had been + a competent and careful housekeeper. Meals which she prepared were well + cooked and neatly served. This meal was distinctly different. There was + enough to eat—in fact, an abundance—fried cod and the fried + potatoes and hot biscuits and dried-apple pie; but everything was put upon + the table at the same time, and Mr. Chase sat down with the others and did + not even trouble to take off his apron. The tablecloth was not very clean + and the knives and forks and spoons did not glitter like those the child + had been accustomed to see. + </p> + <p> + Even Mr. Hamilton, to whom most of the things of this world—his + beloved store excepted—seemed to be unessential trivialities, spoke + of the table linen. + </p> + <p> + “Seems to me,” he observed, in his gentle and hesitating way, “this + tablecloth's sort of spotted up. Don't you think so, Shadrach?” + </p> + <p> + Captain Shad's reply was emphatic and to the point. + </p> + <p> + “Looks as if 'twas breakin' out with chicken-pox,” he replied. “Ain't we + got a clean one in the locker, Isaiah?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Chase's face assumed an aggrieved expression. + </p> + <p> + “Course we have,” he answered, “but I didn't know you was goin' to have + company.” + </p> + <p> + “Neither did we. But we could stand a clean table-cloth, even at that.” + </p> + <p> + “I've got somethin' to do besides changin' tablecloths every day.” + </p> + <p> + “Every day! Every Thanksgivin' Day, you mean. This one—” + </p> + <p> + “Now, look-a-here, Cap'n Shad; you know well as I do that Sarah J. never + come to do the washin' last week. She was down with the grip and couldn't + move. If you expect me to do washin' as well as cook and sweep and keep + house and—and shovel snow, and—” + </p> + <p> + “Shovel snow! What kind of talk's that? There ain't been any snow since + February.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't make no difference. When there was I shoveled it, didn't I? It + ain't no use; I try and try, but I can't give satisfaction and I might's + well quit. I don't have to stay here and slave myself to death. I can get + another job. There's folks in this town that's just dyin' to have me work + for em.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Shadrach muttered something to the effect that if Isaiah did work + for them they might die sooner. Mr. Chase rose from his seat. + </p> + <p> + “All right,” he said, with dignity. “All right, this settles it. I'm + through. After all the years I sailed cook along with you, Shad Gould, and + after you beggin' me—yes, sir, beggin' on your knees, as you might + say, for me to run this house for you long as you lived—after that, + to—to—Good-by. I'll try not to lay it up against you.” + </p> + <p> + He was moving—not hastily, but actually moving—toward the + kitchen door. Zoeth, who was evidently much disturbed, rose and laid a + hand on his arm. + </p> + <p> + “There, there, Isaiah,” he pleaded. “Don't act so. We ain't findin' any + fault. Shadrach wasn't findin' fault, was you, Shadrach?” + </p> + <p> + “No, no, course I wasn't. Don't talk so foolish, Isaiah. Nobody wants you + to quit. All I said was—Come back here and set down. Your tea's + gettin' all cold.” + </p> + <p> + To Mary-'Gusta it seemed as if the tea had been at least cool to begin + with. However, Mr. Chase suffered himself to be led back to the table and + attacked his supper in injured silence. Mary-'Gusta offered a suggestion. + </p> + <p> + “I guess I could wash a tablecloth,” she said. “I always wash my dolls' + things.” + </p> + <p> + Her three companions were plainly surprised. The Captain was the first to + speak. + </p> + <p> + “You don't say!” he exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir, I do. And,” with a glance at the silver, “I can scour knives + and forks and spoons, too. I used to help Mrs. Hobbs scour 'em sometimes.” + </p> + <p> + Even Shadrach had no remark to make. He gazed at the child, then at Zoeth, + and drew a long breath. + </p> + <p> + As soon as supper was over the Captain and Mr. Hamilton hastened up to the + village and the store. + </p> + <p> + “You better go to bed pretty soon, Mary-'Gusta,” said Zoeth. “You're + tired, I know. Isaiah'll make your bed for you. We'll be on hand and see + you first thing in the morning. Isaiah'll go up with you and blow out your + light and all. Good night.” + </p> + <p> + The Captain said good night also and the pair hurried out. + </p> + <p> + When at ten o'clock they returned they found Mr. Chase up and awaiting + them. Isaiah had a story to tell. + </p> + <p> + “I never see a young-one like that in this world,” declared Isaiah. “You + know what she done after you left? Helped me do the dishes. Yes, sir, by + time, that's what she done. And she wiped 'em first-rate, too; good enough + to satisfy ME, and you know that means somethin' 'cause I ain't easy to + satisfy. And talk! Say, I never had a child talk same as she does. How old + is she, for the land sakes?” + </p> + <p> + Zoeth told them the visitor's age. + </p> + <p> + “Well, maybe so,” went on Isaiah, “but she don't talk seven; nigher + seventeen, if you ask me. Pumpin' me about funerals, she was, and about + folks dyin' and so on. Said she cal'lated she'd have a doll's funeral some + time. 'For mercy sakes, what for?' I says. 'Can't you think up anything + pleasanter'n that to play? That kind of game would give me the blue + creeps!' She, thought that over—she generally thinks about a thing + for five minutes afore she talks about it—and says she, 'I know,' + she says, 'but a person must go to funerals and so it's better to get used + to 'em and know how to behave. I shouldn't want my dolls,' she says, 'to + do things at funerals that make people feel bad and laugh.' I couldn't get + that through my head. 'If they felt bad they wouldn't laugh, would they?' + says I. 'THEY wouldn't—the ones that felt bad wouldn't,' says she, + 'but others might laugh at them. And that would make the person who was to + blame feel TERRIBLY.' Now what was all that about? Can you make any sense + of it?” + </p> + <p> + Captain Shadrach smiled sheepishly. “I cal'late me and Zoeth have an idea + what she was drivin' at,” he said. “Go on, Isaiah; what else did she say?” + </p> + <p> + “What didn't she say? Wanted to know if I thought God would knock + anybody's head off that had done wrong, even if they didn't mean to. Yes, + sir, that's what she said—-if God would knock anybody's head off. + Mine pretty nigh come off when she said that. I told her that, fur's I + knew, He wasn't in the habit of doin' it. She said that Mrs. Hobbs told + her that if she wasn't punished for her wickedness in this world she would + be in the next. She was real kind of scared about it, seemed to me. Now + what's she done that's wicked, a little critter like her?” + </p> + <p> + Zoeth said nothing, but he looked vexed and disturbed. + </p> + <p> + “I'd knock SOMEBODY'S head off if I had my way,” observed Shadrach. “Or if + I didn't, I'd like to. Where is she now, Isaiah?” + </p> + <p> + “She's up in the spare room, asleep I cal'late. And she's got her dolls + along with her, three on one side and two on t'other. Wanted me to be sure + and wake all hands of 'em up on time in the mornin'. He, he! She undressed + them dolls, every one of 'em, afore they turned in. Oh, yes, and she + helped me make the bed, too. She CAN make a bed, blessed if she can't. And + all the time a-talkin', one minute like a child and the next like a + forty-year-old woman. She's the queerest young-one!” + </p> + <p> + “I guess she's had a kind of queer bringin' up,” said Zoeth. + </p> + <p> + “Where's that—where's Saul—er—Elijah—what's his + name—David?” asked the Captain. “Where's the cat?” + </p> + <p> + “He's out in the barn, locked in. She had to go out along with me when I + toted him there, and kiss him good night and tell him not to be + frightened, and goodness knows what all—you'd think she was that + cat's mother, to hear her. How long's she goin' to stay?” + </p> + <p> + “Don't know,” replied Shadrach, hastily. “That ain't settled yet.” + </p> + <p> + “How'd you come to fetch her over here? You're the last ones I ever + thought would be fetchin' a child to visit you. Say, you ain't cal'latin' + to keep her for good, are you?” + </p> + <p> + Zoeth hesitated. Shadrach's answer was emphatic. + </p> + <p> + “Course not,” he snapped. “What do Zoeth and me know about managin' a + child? Keep her for good, the idea!” + </p> + <p> + Isaiah chuckled. “'Cordin' to my notion,” he said, “you wouldn't have to + know much. You wouldn't have to manage her. If she wasn't managin' you—yes, + and me, too—inside of a month, I'd miss my guess. She's a born + manager. You ought to see her handle them dolls and that cat.” + </p> + <p> + When the two partners of Hamilton and Company went upstairs to their own + bedrooms they opened the door of the spare room and peeped in. + Mary-'Gusta's head and those of the dolls were in a row upon the pillow. + It was a strange sight in that room and that house. + </p> + <p> + “I declare!” whispered Zoeth. “And this mornin' we never dreamed of such a + thing. How long this day has been!” + </p> + <p> + “Judgin' by the state of my nerves and knees it's been two year,” replied + Shadrach. “I've aged that much, I swan to man. Humph! I wonder if + Marcellus knows what's happened.” + </p> + <p> + His tone was not loud, but it or the lamplight in her face awakened + Mary-'Gusta. She stirred, opened her eyes and regarded them sleepily. + </p> + <p> + “Is it mornin'?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “No, no,” replied Zoeth. “It's only ten o'clock. Captain Shadrach and I + was goin' to bed and we looked in to see if you was all right, that's all. + You must go right to sleep again, dearie.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir,” said Mary-'Gusta, obediently. Then she added, “I said my + prayers to myself but I'll say 'em to you if you want me to.” + </p> + <p> + The embarrassed Captain would have protested, but the girl's mind seemed + to be made up. + </p> + <p> + “I guess I will say 'em again,” she said. “There's somethin' in 'em maybe + you'd ought to hear.” She closed her eyes. “Please God bless Father—Oh, + I forgot—bless Mrs. Hobbs and Cap'n Gould and Mr. Hamilton. I + thought I'd ask him to bless you, you know, because I'm visitin' here. And + bless David and Rose and Rosette and Emma and Christobel and Minnehaha. + They're my dolls. And please, God, forgive me for breakin' the music chair + and makin' it go off, because you know I am very sorry and won't do it + again. And—and, Oh, yes!—bless Mr. Chase, Amen. You don't mind + my puttin' you and Mr. Chase in, do you?” + </p> + <p> + “No, dearie, not a mite,” said Zoeth. + </p> + <p> + Captain Shad, looking more embarrassed than ever, shook his head. “Good + night,” said Mary-'Gusta. Zoeth hesitated, then he walked over and kissed + her. + </p> + <p> + “Good night, little girl,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “Good night, Mr. Hamilton,” said Mary-'Gusta. Then she turned expectantly + toward the Captain. Shadrach fidgeted, turned to go, and then, turning + back, strode to the bed, brushed the soft cheek with his rough one and + hastened out into the hall. Zoeth followed him, bearing the lamp. At the + door of the Captain's room, they paused. + </p> + <p> + “Well, good night, Zoeth,” said Shadrach, brusquely. + </p> + <p> + “Good night, Shadrach. This—this is queer business for you and me, + ain't it?” + </p> + <p> + “I should think 'twas. Humph! You said this morning that maybe Marcellus + was alongside of us today. If he is he knows what's happened, don't he?” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps he knows that and more, Shadrach. Perhaps he can see what'll + happen in the future. Perhaps he knows that, too.” + </p> + <p> + “Humph! Well, if he does, he knows a heap more'n I do. Good night.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0005" id="link2HCH0005"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER V + </h2> + <p> + Mary-'Gusta awoke next morning to find the sun shining in at the window of + her bedroom. She had no means of knowing the time, but she was certain it + must be very late and, in consequence, was almost dressed when Isaiah + knocked at the door to tell her breakfast would be ready pretty soon. A + few minutes later she appeared in the kitchen bearing the pitcher from the + washstand in her room. + </p> + <p> + “What you doin' with that?” demanded Mr. Chase, who was leaning against + the door-post looking out into the yard. + </p> + <p> + “I was goin' to fill it,” said the child. “There wasn't any water to wash + with.” + </p> + <p> + Isaiah sniffed. “I ain't had no time to fill wash pitchers,” he declared. + “That one's been on my mind for more'n a fortni't but I've had other + things to do. You can wash yourself in that basin in the sink. That's what + the rest of us do.” + </p> + <p> + Mary-'Gusta obediently washed in the tin basin and rubbed her face and + hands dry upon the roller towel behind the closet door. + </p> + <p> + “Am I late for breakfast?” she asked, anxiously. + </p> + <p> + “No, I guess not. Ain't had breakfast yet. Cap'n Shad's out to the barn + 'tendin' to the horse and Zoeth's feedin' the hens. They'll be in pretty + soon, if we have luck. Course it's TIME for breakfast, but that's nothing. + I'm the only one that has to think about time in this house.” + </p> + <p> + The girl regarded him thoughtfully. + </p> + <p> + “You have to work awful hard, don't you, Mr. Chase?” she said. + </p> + <p> + Isaiah looked at her suspiciously. + </p> + <p> + “Huh?” he grunted. “Who told you that?” + </p> + <p> + “Nobody. I just guessed it from what you said.” + </p> + <p> + “Humph! Well, you guessed right. I don't have many spare minutes.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir. Are you a perfect slave?” + </p> + <p> + “Eh? What?” + </p> + <p> + “Mrs. Hobbs says she is a perfect slave when she has to work hard.” + </p> + <p> + “Who's Mrs. Hobbs?” + </p> + <p> + “She's—she keeps house—that is, she used to keep house for my + father over in Ostable. I don't suppose she will any more now he's dead. + She'll be glad, I guess. Perhaps she won't have to be a perfect slave now. + She used to wear aprons same as you do. I never saw a man wear an apron + before. Do you have to wear one?” + </p> + <p> + “Hey? Have to? No, course I don't have to unless I want to.” + </p> + <p> + Mary-'Gusta reflected. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose,” she went on, after a moment, “it saves your pants. You'd get + 'em all spotted up if you didn't wear the apron. Pneumonia is a good thing + to take out Spots.” + </p> + <p> + Isaiah was surprised. + </p> + <p> + “What is?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “Pneumonia. . . . No, I don't think that's right. It's pneumonia that + makes you sick. Somethin' else takes out the spots. I know now; it's + am-monia. It's very good for spots but you mustn't smell the bottle. I + smelled the bottle once and it went right up into my head.” + </p> + <p> + “What on earth are you talkin' about? The bottle went up into your head!” + </p> + <p> + “No, the ammonia smell did. It was awful; like—like—” she + paused, evidently in search of a simile; “like sneezin' backwards,” she + added. “It was terrible.” + </p> + <p> + Isaiah laughed. “I should think 'twould be,” he declared. “Sneezin' + backwards! Ho, ho! That's a good one!” + </p> + <p> + Mary-'Gusta's eyes were still fixed upon the apron. + </p> + <p> + “Mr.—I mean Cap'n Gould said you was the cook and steward,” she + observed. “I don't know as I know what a steward is, exactly. Is it the + one that stews things?” + </p> + <p> + “Ha, ha!” roared Isaiah. Mary-'Gusta's dignity was hurt. The color rose in + her cheeks. + </p> + <p> + “Was it funny?” she asked. “I didn't know. I know that a cook cooked + things, and a baker baked things, so I thought maybe a steward stewed + 'em.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Chase continued to chuckle. The girl considered. + </p> + <p> + “I see,” she said, with a solemn nod. “It was funny, I guess. I remember + now that a friar doesn't fry things. He is a—a kind of minister. + Friar Tuck was one in 'Robin Hood,' you know. Mrs. Bailey read about him + to me. Do you like 'Robin Hood,' Mr. Chase?” + </p> + <p> + Isaiah said he didn't cal'late that he knew anybody of that name. The + dialogue was interrupted here by the arrival of Zoeth and, a moment later, + Captain Shadrach. Breakfast was put upon the table in the dining-room and + the quartette sat down to eat. + </p> + <p> + Mary-'Gusta was quiet during the meal; she answered when spoken to but the + only questions she asked were concerning David. + </p> + <p> + “He's all right,” said Captain Shad. “Lively as can be. He'll have a good + time out in that barn; there's considerable many mice out there. Likes + mice, don't he?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir. He's a good mouser. Did he look as if he missed me?” + </p> + <p> + “Eh? Well, I didn't notice. He never mentioned it if he did. You can go + see him after breakfast. What do you think she can find to do today, + Zoeth?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Hamilton had evidently considered the problem. + </p> + <p> + “I thought maybe she'd like to go up to the store 'long of you and me,” he + suggested. “Would you, Mary'Gusta?” + </p> + <p> + Mary-'Gusta hesitated. “I'd like to very much,” she said, “only—” + </p> + <p> + “Only what?” + </p> + <p> + “Only I've got to see to David and the dolls first. Couldn't I come up to + the store afterwards?” + </p> + <p> + The Captain answered. “Why, I guess likely you could,” he said. “It's + straight up the road to the corner. You can see the store from the top of + the hill back here. Isaiah'll show you the way. But you can 'tend to—what's + that cat's name?—Oh, yes, David—you can 'tend to David right + off. Isaiah'll give the critter his breakfast, and the dolls can wait 'til + noontime, can't they?” + </p> + <p> + Mary-'Gusta's mind was evidently divided between inclination and duty. + Duty won. + </p> + <p> + “They ain't dressed yet,” she said, gravely. “And besides they might think + I'd gone off and left 'em and be frightened. This is a strange place to + them, same as it is to me and David, you know. None of us have ever been + visitin' before.” + </p> + <p> + So it was decided that she should wait until her family had been given + parental attention, and come to the store by herself. The partners left + for their place of business and she and Mr. Chase remained at the house. + Her first act, after leaving the table, was to go to the barn and return + bearing the cat in her arms. David ate a hearty breakfast and then, after + enduring a motherly lecture concerning prudence and the danger of getting + lost, was permitted to go out of doors. + </p> + <p> + Mary-'Gusta, standing in the doorway, gazed after her pet. + </p> + <p> + “I hope there's no dogs around here,” she said. “It would be dreadful if + there was a dog.” + </p> + <p> + Isaiah tried to reassure her. “Oh, I cal'late there ain't no dog nigh + enough to do any harm,” he said; “besides, most cats can run fast enough + to get out of the way.” + </p> + <p> + The child shook her head. “I didn't mean that,” she said. “I meant it + would be dreadful for the dog. David doesn't have a mite of patience with + dogs. He doesn't wait to see if they're nice ones or not, he just goes for + 'em and then—Oh! He most always goes for 'em. When he has kittens he + ALWAYS does.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Chase's reply to this illuminating disclosure was that he wanted to + know. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Mary-'Gusta, “David doesn't take to dogs, some way. Why don't + cats like dogs, Mr. Chase?” + </p> + <p> + Isaiah said that he cal'lated 'twas the nature of the critters not to. + Mary-'Gusta agreed with him. + </p> + <p> + “Natures are queer things, ain't they?” she said, solemnly. “I guess + everybody has a nature, cats and all. Mrs. Hobbs says my nature is a + contrary one. What's your kind, Mr. Chase? + </p> + <p> + “Do you suppose,” she said, a few moments later, when the cook and steward + had shown symptoms of doing something beside lean against the sink and + whistle, “do you suppose you could get along for a few minutes while I + went up and dressed my dolls?” + </p> + <p> + Isaiah turned to stare at her. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” he stammered, “I—I cal'late maybe I could if I tried hard. + If you don't beat anything ever I see! What are you doin' with that + pitcher?” + </p> + <p> + The girl was holding the wash pitcher under the pump. + </p> + <p> + “I'm fillin' it,” she answered. “Then you won't have to have it on your + mind any more. I'll hurry back just as fast as I can.” + </p> + <p> + She hastened out, bearing the brimming pitcher with both hands. Isaiah + gazed after her, muttering a word or two, and then set about clearing the + breakfast table. + </p> + <p> + She was down again shortly, the two favorites, Rose and Rosette, in her + arms. She placed them carefully in the kitchen chair and bade them be nice + girls and watch mother do the dishes. + </p> + <p> + “I left the others in the bedroom,” she explained. “Minnehaha ain't very + well this mornin'. I guess the excitement was too much for her. She is a + very nervous child.” + </p> + <p> + Isaiah's evident amusement caused her to make one of her odd changes from + childish make-believe to grown-up practicability. + </p> + <p> + “Of course,” she added, with gravity, “I know she ain't really nervous. + She's just full of sawdust, same as all dolls are, and she couldn't have + any nerves. But I like to play she's nervous and delicate. It's real handy + to say that when I don't want to take her with me. I'm a nervous, + excitable child myself; Mrs. Hobbs says so. That's why I've hardly ever + been anywhere before, I guess.” + </p> + <p> + She insisted upon wiping the dishes while Isaiah washed them. Also, she + reminded him that the tablecloth which had been so severely criticized the + previous evening had not as yet been changed. The steward was inclined to + treat the matter lightly. + </p> + <p> + “Never mind if 'tain't,” he said. “It's good enough for a spell longer. + Let it stay. Besides,” he added, “the washin' ain't been done this week + and there ain't another clean one aboard.” + </p> + <p> + Mary-'Gusta smiled cheerfully. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes, there is,” she said. “There's a real nice one in the bottom + drawer of the closet. I've been huntin' and I found it. Come and see.” + </p> + <p> + She led him into the dining-room and showed him the cloth she had found. + </p> + <p> + “It's a real pretty one, I think,” she said. “Shall we put it on, Mr. + Chase?” + </p> + <p> + “No, no, course not. That's the best tablecloth. Don't use that only when + there's company—or Sundays.” + </p> + <p> + Mary-'Gusta considered. She counted on her fingers. + </p> + <p> + “How long have we used this dirty one?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “Eh? Oh, I don't know. Four or five days, maybe.” Then, evidently feeling + that the repetition of the “we” implied a sense of unwarranted partnership + in the household management, he added with dignity, “That is, I'VE seen + fit to use it that long.” + </p> + <p> + The sarcasm was wasted. The girl smiled and nodded. + </p> + <p> + “That makes it all right,” she declared. “If we put this one on now it'll + be Sunday long before it's time to change. And we can wash the other one + today or tomorrow.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, WE can, eh?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir” + </p> + <p> + Isaiah looked as if he wished to say something but was at a loss for + words. The Sunday cloth was spread upon the table while he was still + hunting for them. + </p> + <p> + “And now,” said Mary-'Gusta, “if you're sure you don't need me any more + just now I guess I'd like to go up and see the store. May I?” + </p> + <p> + Site found the store of Hamilton and Company an exceedingly interesting + place. Zoeth and his partner greeted her cordially and she sat down upon a + box at the end of the counter and inspected the establishment. It was not + very large, but there was an amazing variety in its stock. Muslin, tape, + calico, tacks, groceries, cases of shoes, a rack with spools of thread, + another containing a few pocket knives, barrels, half a dozen salt codfish + swinging from nails overhead, some suits of oilskins hanging beside them, + a tumbled heap of children's caps and hats, even a glass-covered case + containing boxes of candy with placards “1 c. each” or “3 for 1 c.” + displayed above them. + </p> + <p> + “Like candy, do you?” asked Mr. Hamilton, noticing her scrutiny of the + case and its contents. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir,” said Mary-'Gusta. + </p> + <p> + “How about sassafras lozengers? Like them?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir.” + </p> + <p> + She was supplied with a roll of the lozenges and munched them gravely. + Captain Shad, who had been waiting on a customer, regarded her with an + amused twinkle. + </p> + <p> + “Sassafras lozengers are good enough for anybody, eh?” he observed. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir,” replied Mary-'Gusta. Then she added, politely: “Only I guess + these are wintergreen.” + </p> + <p> + She stayed at the store until noon. Then she walked home with the Captain + whose turn it was to dine first that day. The hiring of Annabel had been + an unusual break in the business routine. Ordinarily but one of the + partners left that store at a time. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” inquired the Captain, as they walked down the lane, “what do you + think of it? Pretty good store for a place like South Harniss, ain't it?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “I bet you! Different from the Ostable stores, eh?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir; I—I guess it is.” + </p> + <p> + “Um-hm. Well, how different?” + </p> + <p> + Mary-'Gusta took her usual interval for consideration. + </p> + <p> + “I guess there's more—more things in it with separate smells to + 'em,” she said. + </p> + <p> + Captain Shad had no remark to make for a moment. Mary-'Gusta, however, was + anxious to please. + </p> + <p> + “They're nice smells,” she hastened to add. “I like 'em; only I never + smelled 'em all at the same time before. And I like the lozengers VERY + much.” + </p> + <p> + The two or three days which Captain Shad had set as the limit of the + child's visit passed; as did the next two or three. She was busy and, + apparently, enjoying herself. She helped Isaiah with the housework, and + although he found the help not altogether unwelcome, he was inclined to + grumble a little at what he called her “pesterin' around.” + </p> + <p> + “I never see such a young-one,” he told his employers. “I don't ask her to + do dishes nor fill pitchers nor nothin'; she just does it on her own + hook.” + </p> + <p> + “Humph!” grunted Captain Shadrach. “So I judged from what I see. Does it + pretty well, too, don't she?” + </p> + <p> + “Um-hm. Well enough, I guess. Yes,” with a burst of candor, “for her age, + she does it mighty well.” + </p> + <p> + “Then what are you kickin' about?” + </p> + <p> + “I ain't kickin'. Who said I was kickin'? Only—well, all I say is + let her do dishes and such, if she wants to, only—only—” + </p> + <p> + “Only what?” + </p> + <p> + “Only I ain't goin' to have her heavin' out hints about what I ought to + do. There's two skippers aboard this craft now and that's enough. By + time!” with another burst, “that kid's a reg'lar born mother. She mothers + that cat and them dolls and the hens already, and I swan to man I believe + she'd like to adopt me. I ain't goin' to be mothered and hinted at to do + this and that and put to bed and tucked in by no kid. I'll heave up my job + first.” + </p> + <p> + He had been on the point of heaving up his job ever since the days when he + sailed as cook aboard Captain Shadrach's schooner. When the Captain + retired from the sea for the last time, and became partner and fellow + shopkeeper with Zoeth, Isaiah had retired with him and was engaged to keep + house for the two men. The Captain had balked at the idea of a female + housekeeper. + </p> + <p> + “Women aboard ship are a dum nuisance,” he declared. “I've carried 'em + cabin passage and I know. Isaiah Chase is a good cook, and, besides, if + the biscuits are more fit for cod sinkers than they are for grub, I can + tell him so in the right kind of language. We don't want no woman steward, + Zoeth; you hear ME!” + </p> + <p> + Zoeth, although the Captain's seafaring language was a trial to his + gentle, churchly soul, agreed with his partner on the main point. His + experience with the other sex had not been such as to warrant further + experiment. So Isaiah was hired and had been cook and steward at the South + Harniss home for many years. But he made it a practice to assert his + independence at frequent intervals, although, as a matter of fact, he + would no more have dreamed of really leaving than his friends and + employers would of discharging him. Mr. Chase was as permanent a fixture + in that house as the ship's chronometer in the dining-room; and that was + screwed to the wall. + </p> + <p> + And, in spite of his grumbling, he and Mary-'Gusta were rapidly becoming + fast friends. Shadrach and Zoeth also were beginning to enjoy her company, + her unexpected questions, her interest in the house and the store, and + shrewd, old-fashioned comments on persons and things. She was a “queer + young-one”; they, like the people of Ostable, agreed on that point, but + Mr. Hamilton was inclined to think her ways “sort of takin'” and the + Captain admitted that maybe they were. What he would not admit was that + the girl's visit, although already prolonged for a fortnight, was anything + but a visit. + </p> + <p> + “I presume likely,” hinted Zoeth, “you and me'll have to give the Judge + some sort of an answer pretty soon, won't we? He'll be wantin' to know + afore long.” + </p> + <p> + “Know? Know what?” + </p> + <p> + “Why—why whether we're goin' to say yes or no to what Marcellus + asked us in that letter.” + </p> + <p> + “He does know. Fur's I'm consarned, he knows. I spoke my mind plain enough + to pound through anybody's skull, I should think.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes—yes, I know you did. But, Shadrach, if she don't stay here for + good where will she stay? She ain't got anybody else to go to.” + </p> + <p> + “She is stayin', ain't she? She—she's makin' us a visit, same as I + said she could. What more do you want? Jumpin' fire! This fix is your + doin' anyway. 'Tain't mine. If you had paid attention to what I said, the + child wouldn't have been here at all.” + </p> + <p> + “Now, Shadrach! You know you was the one that would fetch her over that + very day.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, blame it onto me, of course!” + </p> + <p> + “I ain't blamin' anybody. But she's here and we've got to decide whether + to send her away or not. Shall we?” + </p> + <p> + They were interrupted by Mary-'Gusta herself, who entered the barn, where + the discussion took place, a doll under one arm and a very serious + expression on her face. + </p> + <p> + “Hello!” hailed Zoeth. “What's the matter?” + </p> + <p> + Mary-'Gusta seated herself upon an empty cranberry crate. The partners had + a joint interest in a small cranberry bog and the crate was one of several + unused the previous fall. + </p> + <p> + “There's nothin' the matter,” she said, solemnly. “I've been thinkin', + that's all.” + </p> + <p> + “Want to know!” observed the Captain. “Well, what made you do anything as + risky as that?” + </p> + <p> + Mary-'Gusta's forehead puckered. + </p> + <p> + “I was playin' with Jimmie Bacheldor yesterday,” she said, “and he made me + think.” + </p> + <p> + Abner Bacheldor was the nearest neighbor. His ramshackle dwelling was an + eighth of a mile from the Gould-Hamilton place. Abner had the reputation + of being the meanest man in town; also he had a large family, of which + Jimmie, eight years old, was the youngest. + </p> + <p> + “Humph!” sniffed Captain Shad. “So Jimmie Bacheldor made you think, eh? I + never should have expected it from one of that tribe. How'd he do it?” + </p> + <p> + “He asked me about my relations,” said Mary-'Gusta, “and when I said I + hadn't got any he was awful surprised. He has ever so many, sisters and + brothers and aunts and cousins and—Oh, everything. He thought 'twas + dreadful funny my not havin' any. I think I'd ought to have some, don't + you?” + </p> + <p> + The partners, looking rather foolish, said nothing for a moment. Then + Zoeth muttered that he didn't know but she had. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Mary-'Gusta, “I—I think so. You see I'm—I mean I + was a stepchild 'long as father was here. Now he's dead and I ain't even + that. And I ain't anybody's cousin nor nephew nor niece. I just ain't + anything. I'm different from everybody I know. And—and—” very + solemnly—“I don't like to be so different.” + </p> + <p> + Her lip quivered as she said it. Sitting there on the cranberry crate, + hugging her dolls, she was a pathetic little figure. Again the partners + found it hard to answer. Mr. Hamilton looked at the Captain and the + latter, his fingers fidgeting with his watchchain, avoided the look. The + girl went on. + </p> + <p> + “I was thinking,” she said, “how nice 'twould have been if I'd had a—a + brother or somebody of my very own. I've got children, of course, but + they're only dolls and a cat. They're nice, but they ain't real folks. I + wish I had some real folks. Do you suppose if—if I have to go to the—the + orphans' home, there'd be anybody there that would be my relation? I + didn't know but there might be another orphan there who didn't have + anybody, same as me, and then we could make believe we was—was + cousins or somethin'. That would be better than nothin', wouldn't it?” + </p> + <p> + Zoeth stepped forward and, bending over, kissed her cheek. “Never you + mind, Mary-'Gusta,” he said. “You ain't gone there yet and afore you do + maybe Cap'n Shad and I can think up some relations for you.” + </p> + <p> + “Real relations?” asked Mary-'Gusta, eagerly. + </p> + <p> + “Well, no, not real ones; I'm afraid we couldn't do that. But when it + comes to make-believe, that might be different.” He hesitated an instant, + glanced at the Captain, and then added: “I tell you what you do: you just + pretend I'm your relation, a—well, an uncle, that's better'n + nothin'. You just call me 'Uncle Zoeth.' That'll be a start, anyhow. Think + you'd like to call me 'Uncle Zoeth'?” + </p> + <p> + Mary-'Gusta's eyes shone. “Oh, yes!” she cried. “Then I could tell that + Jimmie Bacheldor I had one relation, anyhow. And shall I call Cap'n Gould + 'Uncle Shadrach'?” + </p> + <p> + Zoeth turned to his companion. “Shall she, Shadrach?” he asked, with a + mischievous smile. + </p> + <p> + If it had not been for that smile the Captain's reply might have been + different. But the smile irritated him. He strode to the door. + </p> + <p> + “Zoeth Hamilton,” he snapped, “how long are you goin' to set here? If you + ain't got anything else to attend to, I have. I'm goin' up to the store. + It's pretty nigh eight o'clock in the mornin' and that store ain't open + yet.” + </p> + <p> + “Want to come along, Mary-'Gusta?” asked Zoeth. “She can come, can't she, + Shad?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes, course she can,” more genially. “Cal'late there's some of those + sassafras—checkerberry lozengers left yet. Come on, Mary-'Gusta, if + you want to.” + </p> + <p> + But the child shook her head. She looked wistful and a trifle + disappointed. + </p> + <p> + “I—I guess maybe I'd better stay here,” she said. “I ought to see to + Minnehaha's sore throat. I'm goin' to put some red flannel 'round it; Mr. + Chase says he cal'lates he knows where there is some. Good-by, Uncle + Zoeth. Good-by—er—Cap'n Gould.” + </p> + <p> + The partners did not converse on the way to the store. Zoeth made an + attempt, but Shadrach refused to answer. He was silent and, for him, + grumpy all the forenoon. Another fortnight passed before the subject of + the decision which must, sooner or later, be given Judge Baxter was + mentioned by either of the pair. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0006" id="link2HCH0006"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VI + </h2> + <p> + Mary-'Gusta was growing accustomed to the life in the South Harniss home. + She found it a great improvement over that which she had known on + Phinney's Hill at Ostable. There was no Mrs. Hobbs to nag and find fault, + there were no lonely meals, no scoldings when stockings were torn or face + and hands soiled. And as a playground the beach was a wonderland. + </p> + <p> + She and Jimmie Bacheldor picked up shells, built sand forts, skipped flat + stones along the surface of the water at high tide, and picked up scallops + and an occasional quahaug at low water. Jimmie was, generally speaking, a + satisfactory playmate, although he usually insisted upon having his own + way and, when they got into trouble because of this insistence, did not + permit adherence to the truth to obstruct the path to a complete alibi. + Mary-'Gusta, who had been taught by the beloved Mrs. Bailey to consider + lying a deadly sin, regarded her companion's lapses with alarmed + disapproval, but she was too loyal to contradict and more than once + endured reproof when the fault was not hers. She had had few playmates in + her short life and this one, though far from perfect, was a joy. + </p> + <p> + They explored the house together and found in the big attic and the + stuffy, shut-up best parlor the most fascinating of treasure hordes. The + former, with its rows of old trunks and sea chests under the low eaves, + the queer garments and discarded hats hanging on the nails, the dusky + corners where the light from the little windows scarcely penetrated even + on a sunny May afternoon, was the girl's especial Paradise. Here she came + to play by herself on rainy days or when she did not care for company. Her + love of make-believe and romance had free scope here and with no Jimmie to + laugh and make fun of her imaginings she pretended to her heart's content. + Different parts of that garret gradually, in her mind, came to have names + of their own. In the bright spot, under the north window, was Home, where + she and the dolls and David—when the cat could be coaxed from + prowlings and mouse hunts to quiet and slumber—lived and dined and + entertained and were ill or well or happy or frightened, according to the + day's imaginative happenings. Sometimes Home was a castle, sometimes a + Swiss Family Robinson cave, sometimes a store which transacted business + after the fashion of Hamilton and Company. And in other more or less fixed + spots and corners were Europe, to which the family voyaged occasionally; + Niagara Falls—Mrs. Bailey's honeymoon had been spent at the real + Niagara; the King's palace; the den of the wicked witch; Sherwood Forest; + and Jordan, Marsh and Company's store in Boston. + </p> + <p> + Jimmie Bacheldor liked the garret well enough, but imagination was not his + strongest quality and the best parlor had more charms for him. In that + parlor were the trophies of Captain Shadrach's seafaring days—whales' + teeth, polished and with pictures of ships upon them; the model of a + Chinese junk; a sea-turtle shell, flippers, head and all, exactly like a + real turtle except, as Mary-'Gusta said, 'it didn't have any works'; a + glass bottle with a model of the bark Treasure Seeker inside; an Eskimo + lance with a bone handle and an ivory point; a cocoanut carved to look + like the head and face of a funny old man; a Cuban machete; and a set of + ivory chessmen with Chinese knights and kings and queens, all complete and + set out under a glass cover. + </p> + <p> + The junk and the lance and the machete and the rest had a fascination for + Jimmie, as they would have had for most boys, but for him the parlor's + strongest temptation lay in the fact that the children were forbidden to + play there. Zoeth and the Captain, having been brought up in New England + families of the old-fashioned kind, revered their parlor as a place too + precious for use. They, themselves, entered it not oftener than three + times a year, and Isaiah went there only when he felt inclined to dust, + which was not often. Shadrach had exhibited its treasures to the children + one Sunday morning when Zoeth was at church, but he cautioned them against + going there by themselves. “You'd be liable to break somethin',” he told + them, “and some of them things in there you couldn't buy with money. + They've been brought from pretty much everywheres in creation, those + things have.” + </p> + <p> + But, in spite of the warning, or because of it, Jimmie was, as Isaiah + would have said, “possessed” to visit that parlor. He coaxed and teased + and dared Mary-'Gusta to take advantage of the steward's stepping out of + the house or being busy in the kitchen to open that parlor door and go in + with him and peep at and handle the treasures. Mary-'Gusta protested, but + young Bacheldor called her a coward and declared he wouldn't play with + cowards and 'fraid-cats, so rather than be one of those detestable + creatures she usually swallowed her scruples and followed the tempter. It + was a risk, of course, but a real adventure; and, like many adventurers, + the pair came to grief. They took David into the parlor and the cat + wriggled from its owner's arms, jumped upon the table, knocked the case + containing the chessmen to the floor, and not only broke the glass but + decapitated one of the white knights. + </p> + <p> + Even the mild Mr. Hamilton was incensed when Isaiah told the news at + supper time. And Captain Shad, who had bought those chessmen at Singapore + from the savings of a second mate's wages, lost patience entirely. + </p> + <p> + “Didn't I tell you young-ones not to go into that parlor?” he demanded. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir,” admitted Mary-'Gusta, contritely. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, by fire, I did! And you went just the same.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “And you fetched that everlastin'—er—Goliath in there, too. + Don't you know you've been a bad girl?” + </p> + <p> + “Ye—yes, sir.” + </p> + <p> + Zoeth protested. “She ain't a bad girl, Shadrach,” he said. “You know she + ain't.” + </p> + <p> + “Well—er—maybe she ain't, generally speakin'. I cal'late 'twas + that Bacheldor brat that was responsible; but just the same I ain't goin' + to have it happen any more. Mary-'Gusta, if you and that consarned—what's-his-name—Jimmie—go + into that parlor again, unless Isaiah or one of us are with you, I—I—by + the jumpin' Judas, me and Zoeth won't let you go to the Sunday school + picnic. There! I mean that and so does Zoeth. Shut up, Zoeth! You do mean + it, too. You know mighty well either your dad or mine would have skinned + us alive if we'd done such a thing when we was young-ones. And,” turning + to the culprit, “if you fetch that cat in there, I'll—I'll—I + don't know what I'll do.” + </p> + <p> + The Sunday school picnic was to be held on the second Saturday in June and + Mary-'Gusta wished to attend it. She had never been to a real picnic, + though the other children in Ostable had described such outings in glowing + colors. Now, although she, a visitor, was not a regular member of the + South Harniss Methodist Sunday school, the superintendent personally had + invited her to go and Zoeth and the Captain had given their consent. Not + to go would be a heart-breaking calamity. She finally resolved to be very, + very good and obedient from that time on. + </p> + <p> + But good resolutions are broken occasionally, even by grown-ups, and in + childhood much can be forgotten in nine days. So, on the afternoon of the + tenth day, which was the day before the picnic, Mary-'Gusta walking alone + in the field which separated the Gould-Hamilton property from that of + Abner Bacheldor, Jimmie's father—Mary-'Gusta, walking in that field, + was depressed and melancholy. Her state of mind was indicated by the fact + that she had left all her dolls, even Rose and Rosette, at home. She felt + guilty and wicked and conscience-stricken. She had been a bad girl; only + one other knew how bad she had been and he, being guilty likewise, would + not betray her. But at home Isaiah Chase was, as he said, “heatin' himself + to a bile” baking apple turnovers for her to take to the picnic. And + Captain Shadrach had announced his intention of bringing her, from the + store, candy and bananas to go into the lunch basket with the turnovers + and sandwiches and cake. And the Captain had that very day called her a + good girl. If he only knew! + </p> + <p> + There had been a flurry of excitement in the kitchen just after dinner. + Mr. Bacheldor had appeared at the door with the request that he might + “borrer the loan of Cap'n Gould's shotgun.” The day before, at a quarter + after four—Mr. Bacheldor was certain as to the time because he had + been “layin' down two or three minutes on the sofy afore goin' out to look + at some wood there was to cut in the shed, and I'd just got up and looked + at the clock afore I looked out of the settin'-room winder”—looking + out of that window he had seen a cat running from his henyard with one of + his recently hatched Plymouth Rock chickens in its mouth. + </p> + <p> + “If I'd had a gun then,” declared Abner, “I could have blowed the critter + to thunder-and-gone. But I'll get him next time. Let me have the gun, will + you, Isaiah? I know Shad'll say it's all right when you tell him.” + </p> + <p> + That shotgun was a precious arm. It had been given to the Captain years + before by the officers of a sinking schooner, whom Shadrach's boat's crew, + led by Shadrach himself, had rescued at a big risk off the Great South + School. It had the Captain's name, with an inscription and date, on a + silver plate fastened to the stock. Isaiah was not too willing to lend it, + but chicken stealing is a capital offense in South Harniss, as it is in + most rural communities, and the cat caught in the act is summarily + executed. + </p> + <p> + So Mr. Chase went to the Captain's room and returned with the gun. + </p> + <p> + “There you be, Ab,” he said. “Hope you get the critter.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I'll get him all right, don't you fret. Say, Isaiah—er—er—” + Mr. Bacheldor hesitated. “Say,” he went on, “you couldn't let me have two + or three cartridges, could you? I ain't got none in the house.” + </p> + <p> + Isaiah looked more doubtful than ever, but he brought the cartridges. + After making sure, by inquiry and inspection, that they were loaded, the + borrower started to go. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I say, Ab,” Mr. Chase called after him; “know whose cat 'twas?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Bacheldor did not appear to hear, so the question was repeated. Abner + answered without turning. + </p> + <p> + “I know,” he declared. “I know all right,” and hurried on. Isaiah looked + after him and sniffed disdainfully. + </p> + <p> + “Anybody on earth but that feller,” he said, “would have been ashamed to + beg cartridges after beggin' the gun, but not Ab Bacheldor, no sir! Wonder + he didn't want to borrer my Sunday hat to practice shootin' at.” + </p> + <p> + Mary-'Gusta considered shooting a cat the height of cruelty and + dreadfulness but she was aware of the universal condemnation of chicken + stealing and kept her thought to herself. Besides, she had her own + wickedness to consider. + </p> + <p> + She walked slowly on across the field, bound nowhere in particular, + thinking hard and feeling very wretched and miserable. The pleasure of the + next day, the day she had been anticipating, was spoiled already for her. + If she went to that picnic without making a full and free confession she + knew she would feel as mean and miserable as she was feeling now. And if + she did confess, why then— + </p> + <p> + Her meditations were interrupted in a startling manner. She was midway of + the field, upon the other side of which was a tumbledown stone wall, and a + cluster of wild cherry trees and bayberry bushes marking the boundary of + the Bacheldor land. From behind the wall and bushes sounded the loud + report of a gun; then the tramp of running feet and an excited shouting: + </p> + <p> + “You missed him,” screamed a voice. “You never hit him at all. There he + goes! There he goes! Give him t'other barrel quick!” + </p> + <p> + Mary-'Gusta, who had been startled nearly out of her senses by the shot + and the shouting, stood perfectly still, too surprised and frightened even + to run. And then out of the bushes before her darted a scared + tortoise-shell cat, frantically rushing in her direction. The cat was + David. + </p> + <p> + “He's hidin' in them bushes,” shouted the voice again. “Stay where you be, + Pop. I'll scare him out and then you give it to him.” + </p> + <p> + Mary-'Gusta stood still no longer. The sight of her idolized pet running + for his life was enough to make her forget fright and everything else. She + too ran, but not toward home. + </p> + <p> + “David!” she screamed. “Oh, David! Come here! David!” + </p> + <p> + David may have recognized the voice, but if so the recognition made no + difference. The cat kept straight on. The girl ran across its path. It + dodged and darted into a beachplum thicket, a cul-de-sac of tangled + branches and thick grass. Before the animal could extricate itself + Mary-'Gusta had seized it in her arms. It struggled and fought for freedom + but the child held it tight. + </p> + <p> + “David!” she panted. “Oh, don't, David! Please be still! They shan't hurt + you; I won't let 'em. Please!” + </p> + <p> + Through the bushes above the wall appeared the freckled face of Con—christened + Cornelius—Bacheldor. Con was Jimmie's elder brother. + </p> + <p> + “He must have got through,” he shouted. “He—no, there he is. She's + got him, Pop. Make her put him down.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Abner Bacheldor crashed through to his son's side. He was carrying a + gun. + </p> + <p> + “You put that cat down,” screamed Con, threateningly. + </p> + <p> + Mary-'Gusta said nothing. Her heart was beating wildly but she held the + struggling David fast. + </p> + <p> + “It's that kid over to Shad Gould's,” declared Con. “Make her give you a + shot, Pop.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Abner Bacheldor took command of the situation. + </p> + <p> + “Here, you!” he ordered. “Fetch that critter here. I want him.” + </p> + <p> + Still Mary-'Gusta did not answer. She was pale and her small knees shook, + but she neither spoke nor moved from where she stood. And her grip upon + the cat tightened. + </p> + <p> + “Fetch that cat here,” repeated Abner. “We're goin' to shoot him; he's + been stealin' our chickens.” + </p> + <p> + At this accusation and the awful threat accompanying it, Mary-'Gusta + forgot her terror of the Bacheldors, of the gun, forgot everything except + her pet and its danger. + </p> + <p> + “I shan't!” she cried frantically. “I shan't! He ain't! He's my cat and he + don't steal chickens.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, he does, too,” roared Con. “Pop and I see him doin' it.” + </p> + <p> + “You didn't! I don't believe it! When did you see him?” + </p> + <p> + “Yesterday afternoon. We see him, didn't we, Pop?” + </p> + <p> + “You bet your life we did,” growled Abner. “And he was on my land again + just now; comin' to steal more, I cal'late. Fetch him here.” + </p> + <p> + “I—I shan't! He shan't be shot, even if he did steal 'em. And I know + he didn't. If you shoot him I'll—I'll tell Uncle Zoeth and—and + Cap'n Gould. And I won't let you have him anyhow. I won't,” with savage + defiance. “If you shoot him you'll have to shoot me, too.” + </p> + <p> + Con climbed over the wall. “You just wait, Pop,” he said. “I'll take him + away from her.” + </p> + <p> + But his father hesitated. There were certain reasons why he thought it + best not to be too arbitrary. + </p> + <p> + “Hold on, Con,” he said. “Look here, sis, I'm sorry to have to kill your + cat, but I've got to. He steals chickens and them kind of cats has to be + shot. I see him myself yesterday afternoon. I told Isaiah Chase myself + that . . . why, you was there and heard me! You heard me tell how I was + lookin' out of the winder at quartet past four and see that cat—” + </p> + <p> + Mary-'Gusta interrupted. Her expression changed. She was still dreadfully + frightened but in her tone was a note of relief, of confident triumph. + </p> + <p> + “You didn't see him,” she cried. “It wasn't David; it wasn't this cat you + saw. I KNOW it wasn't.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I know it was. Now don't argue no more. You fetch that cat here or + I'll have Con take him away from you. Hurry up!” + </p> + <p> + “I know it wasn't David,” began Mary-'Gusta. Then, as Con started in her + direction, she turned and ran, ran as hard as she could, bearing David in + her arms. Con ran after her. + </p> + <p> + It was the cat that saved the situation and its life at the same time. + Mary-'Gusta was near the edge of the pine grove and Con was close at her + heels. David gave one more convulsive, desperate wriggle, slid from the + girl's arms and disappeared through the pines like a gray projectile. + </p> + <p> + Mary-'Gusta collapsed on the grass and burst into frightened, hysterical + sobs. Con took one or two steps after the flying cat and gave up the + chase. Mr. Bacheldor, from behind the wall, swore emphatically and at + length. + </p> + <p> + “Come here, Con, you fool,” he yelled, when the expression of his true + feelings had reached a temporary end. “Come here! let the kid alone. We'll + get into trouble if we don't. As for that dummed cat, we'll get him next + time. He'll see his finish. Come on, I tell you.” + </p> + <p> + Con reluctantly rejoined his parent and the pair departed, muttering + threats. Mary-'Gusta, the tears running down her cheeks, ran home to find + David and plead with Mr. Chase for her pet's safety and protection from + its persecutors. But Isaiah had gone up to the store on an errand. David, + however, was crouching, a trembling heap, under the kitchen stove. The + girl pulled him out, fled with him to the garret, and there, with the door + locked, sat shivering and sobbing until Captain Shad came home for supper + that night. + </p> + <p> + The Captain's first question when he arrived was concerning Mary-'Gusta's + whereabouts. Isaiah said he had not seen her for two hours or more. And + just then the child herself appeared, entering the kitchen from the door + leading to the back stairs. + </p> + <p> + “Hello, Mary-'Gusta!” hailed Shadrach. “Thought you was lost. Supper's + about ready to put on the table. Why, what's the matter? Been cryin', + ain't you?” + </p> + <p> + Mary-'Gusta went straight to him and clutched his hand. “Please, Cap'n + Gould,” she begged, “will you come into the sittin'-room a minute? I—I + want to ask you somethin'. I want you to do somethin' for me, will you?” + </p> + <p> + “Sartin sure I will. What is it?” + </p> + <p> + Mary-'Gusta glanced at Isaiah's face. “I'd—I'd rather tell you, just + you alone,” she said. “Please come into the sittin'-room.” + </p> + <p> + She tugged at his hand. Much puzzled, he followed her through the + dining-room and into the sitting-room. + </p> + <p> + “Well, Mary-'Gusta,” he said, kindly, “now what is it? What's the big + secret?” + </p> + <p> + Mary-'Gusta closed the door. She was very solemn and her lip quivered but + she did not hesitate. + </p> + <p> + “It's about David,” she said. “Somethin's happened to David. I—I'm + goin' to tell you about it, Cap'n Gould.” + </p> + <p> + She told of her adventure and of David's peril. Shadrach listened. When he + heard of the accusation which was the cause of the affair he shook his + head. + </p> + <p> + “My, my!” he exclaimed. “That's pretty bad, that is. I'd hate to have your + cat killed, Mary-'Gusta, land knows I would. But if the critter's a + chicken thief—” + </p> + <p> + “But he ain't! I KNOW he ain't!” + </p> + <p> + “Humph! You can't always tell, you know cats are cats and—” + </p> + <p> + “But I know David wasn't the cat that did it. I KNOW he wasn't” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, you know, do you. Hm! you do seem pretty sartin, that's a fact. How + do you know?” + </p> + <p> + The girl looked at him. “Please, Cap'n Gould,” she said, “I—I'd + rather tell you over to Mr. Bacheldor's. That's what I wanted to ask you; + won't you please go right over to Mr. Bacheldor's with me? I—I'll + tell you how I know when we're there.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Shadrach was more puzzled than ever. “You want me to go to Ab + Bacheldor's with you?” he repeated. “You want to tell me somethin' over + there? Why not tell me here?” + </p> + <p> + “'Cause—'cause Mr. Bacheldor thinks David did it and he'll kill him. + He said he would. I want HIM to know David wasn't the one. And if, if + you're there when he knows, he'll know YOU know he knows and he won't dast + shoot at David any more. Please come, Cap'n Gould. Please, right away.” + </p> + <p> + Shadrach tugged at his beard. “Humph!” he muttered. “There's more 'knows' + in that than there is knots in a snarled fish line. You want me as a + witness, nigh's I can make out. Is that it?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir. Will you go with me right off?” + </p> + <p> + “Right off, eh? Can't it wait till after supper?” + </p> + <p> + “I—I don't want any supper. PLEASE!” + </p> + <p> + So supper was postponed, in spite of Isaiah's grumblings, and the Captain + and Mary-'Gusta started forthwith for the home of their nearest neighbor. + Mr. Chase, his curiosity aroused, would have asked a dozen questions, but + Mary-'Gusta would neither answer nor permit Shadrach to do so. + </p> + <p> + The Bacheldor family were at supper when the callers arrived. Abner + himself opened the door and he looked rather embarrassed when he saw the + pair on the steps. Captain Shad did not wait for an invitation to enter; + he walked in and Mary-'Gusta followed him. + </p> + <p> + “Now then, Ab,” said the Captain, briskly, “what's this about our cat + stealin' your chickens?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Bacheldor and Con, separately and together, burst into a tirade of + invective against the offending David. + </p> + <p> + “That's all right, that's all right,” broke in the Captain, crisply. “If + that cat stole your chicken it ought to be shot. But are you sure of the + cat? Do you know ours did it? This girl here says 'twasn't ours at all.” + </p> + <p> + “I know a dum sight better,” began Abner, savagely. But this time it was + Mary-'Gusta who interrupted. + </p> + <p> + “Cap'n Gould,” she said, “please ask him what time it was yesterday + afternoon when he saw the cat run off with the chicken.” + </p> + <p> + Bacheldor did not wait to be asked. + </p> + <p> + “'Twas quarter-past four yesterday afternoon,” he declared. “I know the + time.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't see what the time's got to do with it,” put in Shadrach. + </p> + <p> + “But it's got everything to do with it,” urged Mary-'Gusta. “Honest truly + it has.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, it has, eh? Why?” + </p> + <p> + “'Cause—'cause—Ask him if he's sure?” + </p> + <p> + Again Abner did not wait. “Course I'm sure,” he replied. “I told Isaiah + Chase—yes, and I told that young-one, too—that I looked at the + clock just afore I looked out of the window and see the critter in the + very act. Yes, and Con see him too.” + </p> + <p> + Mary-'Gusta stamped her foot in triumph. “Then it wasn't David,” she said. + “It wasn't David at all. 'Twas somebody else's cat, Mr. Bacheldor.” + </p> + <p> + “Somebody else's nothin'! Don't you suppose I know—” + </p> + <p> + “Hold on! Heave to, Ab. Mary-'Gusta, how do you know 'twasn't our cat?” + </p> + <p> + “'Cause—'cause David was with me from four o'clock till most five; + that's how. He was in the—in our house with me. So,” triumphantly, + “he couldn't have been anywhere else, could he?” + </p> + <p> + Con and his father both began a protest, but Shadrach cut it short. + </p> + <p> + “Keep still, for mercy sakes,” he ordered. “This ain't Shoutin' Methodist + camp meetin'. Let's get soundin's here. Now, Mary-'Gusta, you say the cat + was with you from four till five; you're sure of that?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir. I know because Mr. Chase had gone out and we knew he wouldn't + be back until five 'cause he said he wouldn't. So we looked at the clock + before we went in.” + </p> + <p> + “Went in? Went in where?” + </p> + <p> + The girl hung her head. It was evident that the answer to this question + was one she dreaded to make. But she made it, nevertheless. + </p> + <p> + “Before we went into—into the parlor,” she said, faintly. + </p> + <p> + Captain Shad was the only one of her hearers who grasped the full + significance of this confession. No, there was one other, and he turned + red and then white. + </p> + <p> + “The parlor?” repeated the Captain, slowly. “The best parlor?” + </p> + <p> + “Ye-yes, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you mean you went into the best parlor over to our house and—AND + TOOK THAT CAT IN WITH YOU?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I swan to man! Did you forget what I told you would happen if you + went into that parlor again? And especially if you lugged that cat in? Did + you forget that?” + </p> + <p> + “N-no, sir. I didn't forget it. You—you said I couldn't go to the + picnic.” + </p> + <p> + Shadrach shook his head. “Well,” he groaned, “if this don't beat the + nation! What under the sun did you do it for?” + </p> + <p> + “'Cause—'cause we wanted to play pirates with—with the swords + and things,” faltered Mary-'Gusta. “And we took David 'cause he was goin' + to be one of the passengers on the ship we took. But,” with a sudden + return to the main point at issue, “that proves David wasn't the cat he + saw, the one that stole his chicken.” + </p> + <p> + The Captain looked at her. “By fire, it does, that's right,” he muttered. + Abner Bacheldor roared in indignation. + </p> + <p> + “It don't prove nothin',” he cried. “All it proves is that the kid's a + liar. She's lyin' so's to save that dummed thief of a cat. All kids'll lie + when they think they can make somethin' out of it.” + </p> + <p> + Shadrach grunted. “Maybe so,” he said, “but I ain't caught this one in a + lie so far. And I doubt if she's lyin' now. Now, Mary-'Gusta, is there any + way you can prove you was in that parlor, and—what's his name—David + was there at the time you say? Is there?” + </p> + <p> + Again Mary-'Gusta hesitated. Her eyes wandered about the faces in the + room, until their gaze rested upon the face of Jimmie Bacheldor. And + Jimmie looked white and scared. + </p> + <p> + “N-no, sir, I—I guess not,” she faltered. + </p> + <p> + “I guess not, too,” declared Con, with a sarcastic laugh. + </p> + <p> + But the Captain was suspicious. He had seen the child's look. + </p> + <p> + “Hold on,” he commanded. “There's more to this than a blind man could see + through a board fence. Mary-'Gusta, was there anybody else except David in + that parlor along with you? Was there?” + </p> + <p> + Mary-'Gusta looked at the floor. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir,” she faltered. + </p> + <p> + “So? I kind of had an idea there might be. Who was it?” + </p> + <p> + Again the look and then: “I—I ain't goin' to tell.” + </p> + <p> + Con laughed once more. “You bet she ain't,” he exclaimed. “She can't. The + whole yarn's a lie. Don't pay no attention to it, Pop.” + </p> + <p> + Shadrach turned sharply in his direction. “I'M payin' attention to it,” he + snapped, “and that's enough. So you ain't goin' to tell, Mary-'Gusta, eh? + Remember now, if you do tell it'll prove your story's true and David'll + come out on top. Think it over.” + </p> + <p> + Evidently Mary-'Gusta was thinking it over. Her eyes filled with tears, + but she shook her head. + </p> + <p> + The Captain looked down at her. “Keepin' mum, eh?” he said. “Well, that's + all right. I cal'late we're pretty good guessers, some of us, anyway. + Jim,” with a sudden look straight at the youngest member of his neighbor's + family, who was fidgeting with his spoon and acting remarkably nervous, + “what have you got to say? Have a good time in that parlor playin' + pirates, did you?” + </p> + <p> + Jimmie gasped. The suddenness of the attack knocked his defenses flat. He + gurgled, stammered, and then broke into a wail of distress. + </p> + <p> + “I—I didn't mean to,” he sobbed, wildly. “'Twas her. She said do it; + I never. I—I—” + </p> + <p> + “Why, Jimmie Bacheldor!” exclaimed Mary-'Gusta, shocked into protest by + her fellow culprit's distortion of the truth. “How can you say so! What a + story! You know—” + </p> + <p> + “I guess he knows,” broke in Shadrach. “And I cal'late I know, too. Now + then, Jim, what time was it when you looked at the clock? Shut up, Abner, + let the boy answer. Tell us, Jim; nobody'll hurt you.” + </p> + <p> + “It—it was four o'clock,” hollered Jimmie, in agony. “I—I + never done it a purpose. I won't do so no more.” + </p> + <p> + “No, I don't cal'late you will. Cal'late you won't have a chance. Well, + Ab, I guess we've proved our client's case. Next time you go out cat + shootin' you better be sure you're gunnin' for the right one. Come on, + Mary-'Gusta.” + </p> + <p> + Con Bacheldor sprang to his feet. + </p> + <p> + “Pop,” he shouted, “be you goin' to let 'em go this way? And that cat + stealin' our chickens right along. Ain't you goin' to tell 'em you'll kill + the critter next time he comes on our land?” + </p> + <p> + Abner was silent. He seemed oddly anxious to see the last of his visitors. + It was the Captain who spoke. + </p> + <p> + “No, Con,” he said, crisply, “he ain't goin' to tell me that. And you + listen while I tell YOU somethin'. If that cat of ours gets hurt or don't + show up some time I'll know who's responsible. And then—well, then + maybe I'LL go gunnin'. Good night, all hands.” + </p> + <p> + All the way back across the fields and through the grove the Captain was + silent. Mary-'Gusta clinging to his hand was silent too, dreading what she + knew was sure to follow. When they entered the kitchen Shadrach turned to + her: + </p> + <p> + “Well, Mary-'Gusta,” he said, “I'm glad your cat's turned out to be no + chicken thief, but—but that don't alter what you did, does it?” + </p> + <p> + “No, sir,” stammered the girl. + </p> + <p> + “No, I'm afraid it don't. I told you what would happen if you went into + that parlor, and you went just the same. I cal'late you know what to + expect, don't you?” + </p> + <p> + “Ye-yes, sir,” in a low tone. “You mean I can't go to the Sunday school + picnic.” + </p> + <p> + Shadrach cleared his throat. He was not enjoying this episode, as a matter + of fact his unhappiness was almost as keen as the child's. But as a boy he + had been reared in the old-fashioned way, and he felt that he had a duty + to perform. + </p> + <p> + “I'm afraid that's what I mean,” he said, gravely. “Now set down and have + your supper.” + </p> + <p> + Mary-'Gusta tried hard to be brave, but the disappointment was too great. + The tears streamed down her cheeks and she ran from the room. Shadrach + strode after her. + </p> + <p> + “Here!” he called. “Mary-'Gusta, where are you goin'? Come back and have + your supper.” + </p> + <p> + But Mary-'Gusta did not come back. She was already on the stairs. + </p> + <p> + “I—I don't want any supper,” she sobbed. “Please, oh, PLEASE don't + make me eat it.” + </p> + <p> + The Captain hesitated, turned back, and jerked his own chair to the table. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” he demanded brusquely, “the supper's here and somebody's got to + eat it, I cal'late. Fetch it on, Isaiah! What are you starin' at me like + that for, you dumbhead?” + </p> + <p> + Isaiah brought in the supper. Then he demanded to know what the fuss was + all about. Shadrach told him. Isaiah's chief interest seemed to center on + the attempted shooting. + </p> + <p> + “Why the son of a swab!” he cried, excitedly. “Of all the cheek I ever + heard of in my life that Abner Bacheldor's got the heft! To borrer a man's + own gun—yes, and cartridges, too—to kill that man's own cat + with! Of all the solid brass! He never told me 'twas our cat. All he + wanted to know was could he borrer your gun and somethin' to load it with. + If I'd known—” + </p> + <p> + His employer interrupted him. “WHAT?” he roared. “Do you mean to say that + Ab Bacheldor came here and borrowed MY gun to—to do what he done + with?” + </p> + <p> + “Sartin sure he did. And only this very afternoon, too.” + </p> + <p> + “And did he know whose cat 'twas?” + </p> + <p> + “He said he did. Mary-'Gusta was here 'long with me when he come. I says: + 'Know whose cat 'tis?' and says he, 'I know all right!' I thought he acted + kind of sheepish and funny. I—Here! where you goin'?” + </p> + <p> + The Captain was on his feet and his cap was in his hand. + </p> + <p> + “Goin'!” he snarled. “I'm going to make another call on Abner. And,” with + his hand on the latch, “if you hear somebody bein' murdered over in that + direction you needn't call the constable, neither.” + </p> + <p> + “But—but, hold on, Cap'n Shad! You ain't finished your own supper + yet and Zoeth's waiting up to the store for you to come back so's he can + come down and get his.” + </p> + <p> + The reply was emphatic and, in its way, conclusive. + </p> + <p> + “To the blue brimstone with the supper!” roared Shadrach. “It can wait and + so can Zoeth. If he can't he can do the next best.” + </p> + <p> + He was absent for half an hour. When he returned Mr. Hamilton was in the + dining-room. Shadrach entered, bearing the precious shotgun. He stood it + carefully in the corner. There was a satisfied look in his eye. + </p> + <p> + “For goodness' sake, Shadrach!” exclaimed Zoeth, “what have you been + thinkin' of? There I was waitin' and waitin' and hankerin' and hankerin' + and no you nor no supper. I had to lock up the store finally. 'Twas either + that or starve. I ain't a fault-finder, generally speakin', but I have to + eat, same as other folks.” + </p> + <p> + His partner paid not the least attention. His first remark was in the form + of a question addressed to Mr. Chase. + </p> + <p> + “Look here, Isaiah,” he demanded, “did I understand you to say that + Mary-'Gusta was with you when that sculpin come to borrow my gun?” + </p> + <p> + “Yup. She was here.” + </p> + <p> + “And she knew that he was goin' to shoot a cat with it?” + </p> + <p> + “Sartin, she heard him say so.” + </p> + <p> + Shadrach strode to the mantel, took from it a hand-lamp, lighted the lamp + and with it in his hand walked from the room and ascended the stairs. + Zoeth called after him, but he did not answer. + </p> + <p> + He entered Mary-'Gusta's room. The child was in bed, the dolls beside her. + She was not asleep, however. The tear stains on her cheeks and the + dampness of the pillow showed how she had spent the time since leaving the + dining-room. + </p> + <p> + Shadrach put the lamp upon the washstand, pulled a chair beside the bed + and sat down. He took her hand in his. + </p> + <p> + “Mary-'Gusta,” he said, gently, “you knew 'twas my gun that Ab Bacheldor + was tryin' to shoot David with?” + </p> + <p> + Mary-'Gusta moved her head up and down on the pillow. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir,” she said. + </p> + <p> + “You was here when he borrowed it?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir. And then I knew it was yours when he had it there in the field. + I saw the silver name thing on the handle. It kind of shined in the sun.” + </p> + <p> + “Um-hm. Yes, yes. I see. You knew it, of course. But you didn't tell me. + Why on earth didn't you? Didn't you know that if I'd realized that swab + had borrered my gun to kill my cat that would have been enough? If the + critter had stole a million chickens 'twouldn't have made any difference + if I'd known THAT. The cheeky lubber! Well, he won't shoot at anything of + ours for one spell, I'll bet. But why didn't you tell me?” + </p> + <p> + Mary-'Gusta's answer was promptly given. + </p> + <p> + “Why, 'cause,” she said, “that was just it. I knew if you knew that you + wouldn't care whether David stole the chicken or not. And I wanted you to + know he didn't.” + </p> + <p> + “Um, I see. But if you had told me you wouldn't have had to tell about the + parlor. I'D never asked a single question.” + </p> + <p> + “Ye-yes, sir; but I wanted you to know David doesn't steal chickens.” + </p> + <p> + Shadrach swallowed hard. “I see,” he said. “Yes, yes, I see. So just to + clear that cat you was willin' to give up the picnic and everything.” + </p> + <p> + Mary-'Gusta sobbed: “I—I did want to go so,” she moaned. + </p> + <p> + The Captain lifted her from the pillow and put his arm about her. + </p> + <p> + “You ARE goin',” he declared, emphatically, “you just bet you're goin'.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! Oh, am I? Am I really? I—I know I hadn't ought to. I was a bad + girl.” + </p> + <p> + “You! You're a dummed good girl! The best and squarest—yes, and the + spunkiest little girl I ever saw. You're a brick.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm awful sorry I went into the parlor, Cap'n Gould.” + </p> + <p> + “Blast the parlor! I don't care if you stay in there a week and smash + everything in it. And—and, see here, Mary-'Gusta, don't you call me + 'Cap'n Gould' any more. Call me 'Uncle Shad,' will you?” + </p> + <p> + Just before bedtime that night Mr. Hamilton broached a subject which had + troubled him all day. + </p> + <p> + “Shadrach,” he said, timidly. “I—I guess I ought to tell you + somethin'. I know you won't want to talk about it, but seems 's if I must + tell you. I had a letter this morning from Judge Baxter. He says he can't + wait much longer for an answer from us about Marcellus's girl. He's got to + know what we've decided to do with her.” + </p> + <p> + Shadrach, who was smoking, took his pipe from his mouth. + </p> + <p> + “Well, give him the answer then,” he said, shortly. “You know what 'tis, + well as I do.” + </p> + <p> + Zoeth looked troubled. + </p> + <p> + “I know you don't want to keep her,” he said, “but—” + </p> + <p> + “Who said I didn't?” + </p> + <p> + “Who? Why, Shadrach Gould! You said—” + </p> + <p> + “I said a good many things maybe; but that's nothin'. You knew what I + meant as well as I did.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, Shadrach! You—you don't mean you ARE willin' to keep her—here, + with us, for good? You don't mean THAT?” + </p> + <p> + The Captain snorted impatiently. “Don't be so foolish, Zoeth,” he + protested. “You knew plaguey well I never meant anything else.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0007" id="link2HCH0007"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VII + </h2> + <p> + The next day Captain Shadrach drove to Ostable and spent several hours in + consultation with Judge Baxter. Adjusting matters by correspondence is a + slow process at best, and the Captain, having surrendered unconditionally, + was not the man to delay. + </p> + <p> + “I can settle more in ten minutes' talk,” he told his partner, “than the + three of us could in a month's letter-writin', especially if I had to + write any of the letters. I never was any hand to write letters; you know + that, Zoeth. And when I do write one the feller I send it to is liable to + come around and ask me to read it 'cause he can't. Like as not I can't + either, if it's had time to get cold, and there we are, right where we + started. No, I'll go and see the Judge and when I fetch port tonight + there'll have been somethin' done.” + </p> + <p> + This prophecy was fulfilled. Before the Captain left Ostable for the + homeward drive a good deal had been done. Judge Baxter, in his capacity as + administrator, had already been looking into the affairs of his late + client and, as he had expected, those affairs were badly tangled. When the + outstanding debts were paid there would be little left, a thousand or two, + perhaps, but certainly no more. + </p> + <p> + “So there you are, Shadrach,” he said. “I'm mighty glad you and Zoeth have + decided to keep the girl, but I'm afraid she'll come to you with very + little property of her own. If she is to have the good education and all + the rest that Marcellus wanted her to have I guess it'll be your money + that pays for it. That's the honest truth, and I think you ought to know + it.” + </p> + <p> + The Captain nodded. “That's all right,” he said. “I expected just about + that, account of what you said the day of the funeral. Me and Zoeth are + about, as fur from bein' rich as the ship's cat is from bein' skipper, but + we've put by a little and the store fetches us in a decent livin'. We'll + take the young-one and do our best by her. Land knows what that best'll + be,” he added, with a dubious shake of the head. “Speakin' for myself, I + feel that I'm about as competent to bring up a child as a clam is to fly.” + </p> + <p> + Baxter laughed. “Marcellus seemed confident that you and Hamilton were + perfectly suited to the job,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “Um; yes, I know; Marcellus had confidence in a good many things, the + stock market included. However, what is to be will be and we all have to + take chances, as the feller that was just married said when he tackled his + wife's first mince pie. You get those guardian papers, whatever they are, + made out, and Zoeth and me'll sign 'em. As for the competent part—well,” + with a chuckle, “that child's pretty competent herself. I have a notion + that, take it five or six years from now, it'll be her that'll be bringin' + us up in the way we should go. I feel a good deal as if I was signin' on + for a long voyage with the chances that I'd finish mate instead of + skipper.” + </p> + <p> + “Say, Judge,” he added, just before leaving for home, “there's one thing + more I'd like to say. 'Most everybody thinks Marcellus left his + stepdaughter a consider'ble sight of money, don't they?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, yes; I suppose they do.” + </p> + <p> + “All right, let 'em think so. 'Twill give 'em somethin' to talk about. + They'll be guessin' how rich the child is instead of markin' off in the + almanac the days afore Zoeth and me head for the poorhouse.” + </p> + <p> + “Humph! I see. You don't care to have it known that you and your partner + are adopting and supporting her purely from motives of kindness and + generosity.” + </p> + <p> + “Pooh! pooh! No generosity about it. Besides, Marcellus was kind and + generous enough to us in the old days. Pity if we couldn't take our trick + at the wheel now.” + </p> + <p> + The Judge smiled. “You're a good deal more willing to take that trick than + you were when I saw you last, Captain Shad,” he observed. “You seem to + have changed your mind completely.” + </p> + <p> + The Captain grinned. “Well, yes, I have,” he admitted. “Maybe 'tain't so + big a change as you think; I have a habit of blowin' up a squall when I'm + gettin' ready to calm down. But, anyway, that young-one would change + anybody's mind. She's different from any girl of her age ever I saw. She's + pretty as a little picture and sweet and wholesome as a—as a summer + sweet apple. She don't pester, and she don't tease, and she don't lie—no, + sir, not even when I'd consider layin' the course a p'int or two from the + truth a justifiable proceedin'. She's got inside my vest, somehow or + 'nother, and I did think I was consider'ble of a hard-shell. She's all + right, Mary-'Gusta is. I'm about ready to say 'Thank you' to Marcellus.” + </p> + <p> + And so it was settled, and Mary-'Gusta Lathrop was no longer a visitor, + but a permanent member of the odd household at South Harniss. She was + delighted when she heard the news, although, characteristically, she said + very little beyond confiding to her two “uncles” that she was going to be + a good girl and not take David into the parlor again. The remainder of her + “things” and belongings were sent over by the Judge and, in due time, the + guardianship papers were signed. + </p> + <p> + “There!” exclaimed Zoeth, laying down the pen. “That settles it, I + cal'late. Now, Mary-'Gusta, you're our little girl, mine and your Uncle + Shad's, for good and all.” + </p> + <p> + “Not quite so long as that, Zoeth,” put in the smiling Shadrach. “We'll + hang on to her for a spell, I shouldn't wonder; but one of these days, a + hundred years from now or such matter, there's liable to be a good-lookin' + young feller sparkin' 'round here and he'll want to marry her and take her + somewheres else. What'll you say when it comes to that, Mary-'Gusta?” + </p> + <p> + Mary-'Gusta thought it over. “If 'twas a hundred years from now,” she + said, “I guess he wouldn't want me.” + </p> + <p> + The Captain laughed uproariously. “Well, maybe we can discount that + hundred some for cash,” he admitted. “Make it twelve or fifteen years. + Then suppose somebody—er—er—” with a wink at Zoeth—“suppose + Jimmie Bacheldor, we'll say, comes and wants us to put you in his hands, + what'll you say then?” + </p> + <p> + The answer was prompt enough this time. + </p> + <p> + “I'll say no,” asserted Mary-'Gusta, with decision. “Jimmie Bacheldor + hates to wash his hands; he told me so.” + </p> + <p> + All that summer she played about the house or at the store or on the beach + and, when the fall term began, the partners sent her to school. They were + happy and proud men when Miss Dobson, the primary teacher, said the girl + was too far advanced for the first class and entered her in the second. + “Just natural smartness,” Captain Shadrach declared. “Natural smartness + and nothin' else. She ain't had a mite of advantages, but up she goes just + the same. Why, Teacher told me she considered her a reg'lar parachute.” + </p> + <p> + “A parachute's somethin' that comes down, ain't it,” suggested Zoeth, + remembering the balloon ascension he had seen at the county fair. + </p> + <p> + “Humph! So 'tis. Seems as if 'twasn't parachute she said. 'Twas—'twas—” + </p> + <p> + “Parasol?” suggested Isaiah, who was an interested listener. + </p> + <p> + “No, no; nor paralysis neither. Paragon, that's what 'twas. Teacher said + that child was a paragon.” + </p> + <p> + “What's a paragon?” asked Mr. Chase. + </p> + <p> + “I don't know. But it's what she is, anyway.” + </p> + <p> + The paragon continued to progress in her studies. Also she continued, more + and more, to take an interest in the housework and the affairs of her + adopted uncles and Isaiah Chase. Little by little changes came in the life + of the family. On one memorable Sunday Captain Shadrach attended church. + It was the first time in a good many years and whether the congregation or + Zoeth or the Captain himself was the more astonished at the latter's being + there is a question. Mary-'Gusta was not greatly astonished. It was the + result of careful planning on her part, planning which had as its object + the relieving of Mr. Hamilton's mind. Zoeth never missed a Sunday service + or a Friday night prayer meeting. And, being sincerely religious, he was + greatly troubled because his friend and partner took little interest in + such things. + </p> + <p> + Shadrach's aversion to churches dated back to a sermon preached by a + former minister. The subject of that sermon was Jonah and the whale. The + Captain, having been on several whaling voyages in his younger days, had + his own opinion concerning the prophet's famous adventure. + </p> + <p> + If the minister had been a younger and more tactful man the argument which + followed might have ended pleasantly and the break have been avoided. But + the clergyman was elderly, as set in his ways as the Captain was in his, + and the disagreement was absolute and final. + </p> + <p> + “The feller is a regular wooden-head,” declared Shadrach, hotly. “I was + willin' to be reasonable; I was willin' to give in that this Jonah man + might have been out of his head and, after he was hove overboard and cast + ashore, thought he'd been swallowed by a whale or somethin' or 'nother. I + picked up a sailor once who'd drifted around in a boat for a week and he + couldn't remember nothin' of what happened after the first day or so. If + you'd told him he'd been swallowed by a mackerel he wouldn't have said no. + But I've helped kill a good many whales—yes, and I've helped cut 'em + up, too—and I know what they look like inside. No man, whether his + name was Jonah or Jehoshaphat, could have lived three days in a whale's + stomach. How'd he breathe in there, eh? Cal'late the whale had ventilators + and a skylight in his main deck? How'd the whale live all that time with a + man hoppin' 'round inside him? Think I'd live if I—if I swallowed a + live mouse or somethin'? No, sir-ee! Either that mouse would die or I + would, I bet you! I've seen a whole parcel of things took out of a whale's + insides and some of the things had been alive once, too; but they wasn't + alive then; they was in chunks and part digested. Jonah wasn't digested, + was he? And the whale wasn't dead of dyspepsy neither. That's what I told + that minister. 'You try it yourself,' I says to him. 'There's whales + enough back of the Crab Ledge, twenty mile off Orham,' said I. 'You're + liable to run in sight of 'em most any fair day in summer. You go off + there and jump overboard some time and see what happens. First place, no + whale would swallow you; next place, if it did 'twould chew you or sift + you fine first; and, third place, if you was whole and alive that whale + would be dead inside of ten minutes. You try it and see.' Good fair offer, + wasn't it? But did he take it up? Not much. Said I was a scoffer and an + infidel and didn't know anything about Scripture! 'I know about whales, + anyhow,' I told him. And he slammed off and wouldn't speak to me again. + Don't talk to ME! I'll never go inside that meetin'-house again.” + </p> + <p> + And he never had until Mary-'Gusta coaxed him into it. She was a regular + attendant at Sunday school, but on Sunday mornings in pleasant weather she + had been accustomed to take a walk with Shadrach. These walks they both + enjoyed hugely, but one bright morning she announced that she was not + going for a walk, but was going to church with Uncle Zoeth. Shadrach was + disappointed and astonished. + </p> + <p> + “Land sakes! What's this mean?” he demanded. “Thought you liked to walk + with me.” + </p> + <p> + “I do. I like it very much. But I don't think it's fair for me to do it + every Sunday. Uncle Zoeth ALWAYS goes to church and he feels real bad + 'cause you don't go. He told me so. He says the church folks think you + won't go to Heaven when you die and that makes him feel dreadful. He's + goin' to Heaven, you know.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, he is, eh?” + </p> + <p> + “Of course. He couldn't help it, he's so good. Don't you think he'll go to + Heaven, Uncle Shad?” + </p> + <p> + “Who? Zoeth? Sartin I do. If he don't, nobody will.” + </p> + <p> + “Wouldn't it make you feel bad if you was afraid he wouldn't go there?” + </p> + <p> + “Humph! Maybe so, but I ain't afraid.” + </p> + <p> + “I know, but he is afraid YOU won't. He thinks an awful lot of you; as + much as you do of him, you know. Uncle Shad, I'm goin' to meetin' with + Uncle Zoeth this mornin', and I want you to go with us; will you?” + </p> + <p> + The Captain pulled his beard. + </p> + <p> + “Look here, Mary-'Gusta,” he said. “What's all this about, anyway? You + don't cal'late I'd take you walkin' Sundays if I thought 'twas wicked, do + you?” + </p> + <p> + “No, sir; but Uncle Zoeth thinks not goin' to church is wicked. If you and + I went to church with him 'twould please him ever so much.” + </p> + <p> + “Maybe so, but 'twould please you and me if he went walkin' with us. I've + asked him times enough. Why can't he do what I want as well as my doin' + what he wants?” + </p> + <p> + “'Cause he thinks it's wrong. You don't think goin' to church is wrong, do + you, Uncle Shad?” + </p> + <p> + Shadrach shook his head. “By fire!” he exclaimed. “You're a regular young + lawyer, you are, Mary-'Gusta. Judge Baxter hasn't got you beat when it + comes to makin' out a case. Look here, now; be honest; hadn't you rather + go to walk with me than go to that meetin'-house?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir,” frankly; “I'd rather.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, you had, eh? But all the same you want us to give up our walk and go + to church every Sunday just to please Zoeth. Is that it?” + </p> + <p> + Mary-'Gusta took his hand. “No, sir,” she said shyly, “but I thought + perhaps we could divide up. You and I could go with him one Sunday and to + walk the next Sunday. That would be fair. I'm his little girl same as I am + yours, Uncle Shad, ain't I?” + </p> + <p> + Shadrach was stumped, and he went to church that Sunday morning. The + sermon had nothing to do with Jonah or the whale, so his feelings were not + ruffled. Zoeth was mightily pleased and Mary-'Gusta was happy because he + was. The plan of alternate Sundays was adopted. It was but one instance of + the “managing” quality which the girl possessed. Isaiah declared that she + wound all hands around her little finger, but even he seemed to enjoy the + winding. + </p> + <p> + As she grew older Mary-'Gusta learned more and more concerning her uncles, + their habits, their contrasting temperaments and their past history. She + learned a little of Hall and Company, the prosperous firm of which they + had been partners, with Marcellus Hall, her stepfather, as the head. + Isaiah told her a little concerning the firm: “No bigger on Cape Cod,” he + declared. She asked why it had not continued in business. Mr. Chase + brusquely answered that it hadn't, that's all, and would not give any + particulars. She questioned the steward concerning Shadrach and Zoeth. The + former had never married; that was funny; why hadn't he? Isaiah said he + did not know. Hadn't Uncle Zoeth ever married, either? Yes, Zoeth had + married. + </p> + <p> + “Who did—” began Mary-'Gusta, but Isaiah cut short the catechizing. + </p> + <p> + “You mustn't ask such questions,” he declared. + </p> + <p> + “Why mustn't I?” + </p> + <p> + “'Cause you mustn't. Your uncles wouldn't like it a mite if they knew you + was pryin' into their affairs. You mustn't ever say a word about your + Uncle Zoeth's gettin' married.” + </p> + <p> + “Wouldn't he like me any more if I did?” + </p> + <p> + “No, you bet he wouldn't; he'd—I don't know's he wouldn't come to + hate you. And you mustn't say it to Cap'n Shad neither.” + </p> + <p> + The idea of being hated by Uncle Zoeth was a dreadful one and Mary-'Gusta + avoided the tabooed subject. But she thought about it a good deal. She + noticed that in neither of the two lots in the cemetery, one where the + Goulds were buried and the other the Hamiltons, was a stone erected to the + memory of the “beloved wife of Zoeth Hamilton,” although other beloved + wives of the former generations were commemorated. This seemed odd. As her + education progressed she read more and more and from her reading she built + up several imaginative romances with Zoeth as the hero, and as the + heroines beautiful creatures who had died young, in shipwreck, probably, + and whose names were not to be mentioned because. . . . She could not find + a satisfactory solution of the because. Shipwreck or burial at sea she + deduced from the fact of there being no grave in the cemetery. Mothers and + fathers of several of her schoolmates had been buried at sea. Perhaps the + late Mrs. Hamilton had been so buried. But Zoeth had never been a + seafaring man. + </p> + <p> + One Saturday afternoon—she was about ten years old at the time—she + was in the garret. The garret had taken the place of the old surrey at + Ostable, and thither she retired when she wished to be alone to read, or + play, or study. This afternoon she was rummaging through the old trunks + and sea chests in search of a costume for Rose. It was to be a masculine + costume, of course, for there was no feminine apparel in that garret, but + in the games which the girl played when alone with her dolls, Rose, the + largest of the family, was frequently obliged to change her sex with her + raiment. + </p> + <p> + Mary-'Gusta had ransacked these trunks and chests pretty thoroughly on + previous occasions, but this time she made a discovery. In an old trunk + which had obviously belonged to Captain Shadrach she found a sort of + pocket on the under side of the lid, a pocket closing with a flap and a + catch. In this pocket were some papers, old receipts and the like, and a + photograph. The photograph interested her exceedingly. It was yellow and + faded but still perfectly distinct. + </p> + <p> + There was a large building standing on posts fixed in the sand, and beyond + it were wharves and a glimpse of schooners and the sea. Barrels, a good + many barrels, were piled upon the wharves and at the end of the building. + Over the door was the sign, “Hall and Company, Wholesale Fish Dealers.” + </p> + <p> + This sign of itself was interesting enough. Evidently here was the place + where her stepfather and Captain Gould and Mr. Hamilton had done business + years before. But more interesting still was the group of men standing on + the platform under the sign. There were four of these men, dressed in + clothes and hats which—especially the hats—looked queer and + old-fashioned now. Two of the men Mary-'Gusta recognized, or thought she + did. They were Captain Shadrach and Mr. Hamilton. Much younger they + looked, of course; their hair was not gray and Zoeth wore a beard, while + Shadrach had only a mustache. But, in spite of these things and the odd + clothes they wore, she was sure she recognized them. And, having + recognized them, she also recognized the man in the center of the group as + her stepfather, Captain Marcellus Hall. The fourth man, evidently younger + than the others, a handsome, square-shouldered chap in his shirtsleeves, + she did not know. + </p> + <p> + She turned the photograph over. On its back was written: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Firm of Hall and Company. Taken August 19th, 1877. + Marcellus Hall + Zoeth J. Hamilton + Edgar S. Farmer + Shadrach B. Gould. +</pre> + <p> + The names were in differing handwritings. Evidently each man had signed + the photograph. + </p> + <p> + Mary-'Gusta scrutinized the photograph again. Then, with it in her hand, + she descended to the kitchen. Isaiah was sitting in a chair by the stove + reading a newspaper. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Chase,” said Mary-'Gusta, “who was Edgar S. Farmer?” + </p> + <p> + If that kitchen chair had been the never-to-be-forgotten piece of + furniture with the music box beneath it and that box had started to play, + Isaiah could not have risen more promptly. He literally jumped to his feet + and the paper flew from his hands. He whirled upon the questioner. + </p> + <p> + “What?” he demanded. “What's that you said?” + </p> + <p> + He was pale, actually pale. Mary-'Gusta was frightened. + </p> + <p> + “Why—why, I just asked—” she faltered, “I just asked who—who—What + CAN be the matter, Mr. Chase?” + </p> + <p> + Isaiah waved his hand. “WHAT did you ask?” he demanded. + </p> + <p> + “I asked—I asked who Edgar S. Farmer was, that's all. I didn't mean—I + didn't know—” + </p> + <p> + “Be still! Be still, for mercy sakes! What do you know about Ed Farmer? + Who told you about him?” + </p> + <p> + The girl was more frightened than ever. Isaiah's next move did not tend to + reassure her. He strode to the door, looked up the lane, and closed and + locked the door before she could find words to answer. + </p> + <p> + “Now, then,” he said, coming close to her and looking her straight in the + face, “who told you about Ed Farmer?” + </p> + <p> + “Nobody told me. Honest, they didn't.” + </p> + <p> + “Somebody must have told you; else how did you know?” + </p> + <p> + Mary-'Gusta hesitatingly held up the photograph. “It's written on this,” + she said. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Chase snatched it from her hand. He looked at the picture and then at + her. + </p> + <p> + “It's written on the back,” went on the girl. + </p> + <p> + Isaiah turned the photograph over. + </p> + <p> + “Humph!” he said suspiciously. “I see. Who gave this to you?” + </p> + <p> + “Nobody gave it to me. I found it in an old trunk up in the attic.” + </p> + <p> + “Humph! You did, eh? Well, I swan to man! Have you showed it to anybody + else but me?” + </p> + <p> + “No, sir. Honest, I haven't. I just found it this minute.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I swan, that's lucky. 'Twas in a trunk, eh? Whose trunk?” + </p> + <p> + “One of Uncle Shad's, I guess.” + </p> + <p> + “Humph! I presume likely. Well, what made you ask about—about the + one you did ask about?” + </p> + <p> + “I knew who the others were. I knew my father and Uncle Zoeth and Uncle + Shad. But I didn't know who the Farmer one was. It says 'Firm of Hall and + Company,' and all those names are signed. So I thought maybe Mr. Farmer + was—” + </p> + <p> + “Never you mind who he was. He was a darned blackguard and his name ain't + mentioned in this house. That's all I can tell you and you mustn't ask any + more questions. Why, if your Uncle Zoeth—yes, or your Uncle Shad + either—was to hear you askin' about him—they'd—I don't + know what they'd do. I'm goin' to tear this thing up.” + </p> + <p> + He would have torn the photograph across, but the girl seized his hands. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no, you mustn't,” she cried. “Please don't. It isn't mine. It belongs + to Uncle Shad. You mustn't tear it—give it to me.” + </p> + <p> + Isaiah hesitated. “Give it to you?” he repeated. “What'll you do with it?” + </p> + <p> + “I'll put it right back where I found it. Truly, I will. I will, honest, + Mr. Chase.” + </p> + <p> + Isaiah reflected. Then, and with considerable reluctance, he handed her + the photograph. + </p> + <p> + “All right,” he said, “only be sure you do it. And look here, Mary-'Gusta, + don't you ever touch it again and don't you ever tell either of your + uncles or anybody else that you found it. You hear?” + </p> + <p> + Mary-'Gusta said that she heard. She ran to the garret and replaced the + photograph in the pocket of the trunk. She did not mention it again nor + did Isaiah, but thereafter when her active imagination constructed a life + romance with Mr. Zoeth Hamilton as its hero, that romance contained a + villain also, and the villain's name was Edgar S. Farmer. And the firm of + Hall and Company, her father's firm, had a fourth and most mysterious + partner who was a blackguard. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0008" id="link2HCH0008"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VIII + </h2> + <p> + The summers and winters came and went and Mary-'Gusta's birthdays came and + went with them. She grew taller and more mature. Her place as assistant + housekeeper was recognized now and even Isaiah consulted her on matters of + household management. As for her uncles, she managed them whether + consulted or not. They took the place of the discarded dolls; she was too + old for dolls now, although David was still mothered and petted as much as + ever. But when Uncle Zoeth had a cold it was she who insisted upon his + wrapping up and saw that the wraps were ready, and if Uncle Shad was + caught wearing socks with holes in them he was scolded and supplied with + fresh ones. She selected the clothes they should wear and insisted that + they black their boots on Sunday. She helped them in the store and it + became occasionally possible for them to leave that place of business at + the same time without engaging the services of Annabel. At first the + partners, Captain Shadrach especially, protested against the supervision + and the innovations, but Mary-'Gusta tactfully and diplomatically carried + each point, and, after a time, the Captain ceased to protest and accepted + the inevitable almost with meekness. + </p> + <p> + “No use, Zoeth,” he said on one occasion; “I've talked and talked but I'm + wearin' the necktie just the same. I told her 'twas too good to wear + weekdays and it ought to be saved for Sunday, but it ain't Sunday and I've + got it on. She said 'twas becomin' and the one I've been wearin' wasn't + and that she crocheted it for me and I don't know what all. So here I am. + Got so I ain't even boss of my own neck.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, 'tis becomin',” observed Zoeth. “And she did crochet it for you. I + noticed you didn't stop her tyin' it on you even while you was vowin' you + wouldn't wear it.” + </p> + <p> + Shadrach sighed. “To think,” he groaned, “that I, Cap'n Shad Gould, a man + that's handled as many fo'mast hands as I have, should come to be led + around by the nose by a slip of a girl! By fire, I—I can't hardly + believe it. It's disgraceful.” + </p> + <p> + Zoeth smiled. “Oh, be still, Shadrach,” he said. “You bear up under the + disgrace as well as anybody ever I saw. You know perfectly well you was + tickled to death to have her tie that necktie on you. You was grinnin' + like a Chessy cat all the time.” + </p> + <p> + “I wasn't, neither. I was chokin', not grinnin'. You don't know a grin + from a choke.” + </p> + <p> + Zoeth changed the subject. “It's a mighty pretty necktie,” he declared. + “There ain't anybody in this town, unless it's Philander Bearse's wife, + that can crochet any better'n that girl of ours.” + </p> + <p> + Shadrach snorted. “What are you talkin' about?” he demanded. “Etta Bearse + never saw the day she could crochet like that. No, nor do anything else so + well, either. Look at the way our candy trade has picked up since + Mary-'Gusta fixed up the showcase. You cal'lated 'twas all right the way + 'twas afore and thought 'twas foolish to change, but she changed it and—well, + we've sold a third again as much candy.” + </p> + <p> + Zoeth's smile broadened. “Seems as if I remember your sayin' a few things + about that showcase,” he remarked. “You gave me fits for lettin' her fuss + with it. Annabel was in t'other day and she said folks thought 'twas queer + enough our lettin' a thirteen-year-old child run our store for us.” + </p> + <p> + “She did, eh? She's jealous, that's what ails her. And to think of HER + sayin' it. That Annabel's all brass, like a ship's spyglass. By the + jumpin' Judas! I'm proud of that showcase and I'm proud of Mary-'Gusta. + She don't make many mistakes: I can't remember of her makin' any.” + </p> + <p> + “Neither can I, not even in neckties. There, there, Shadrach! I know you. + You talk about disgrace and such, but you're as crazy about Mary-'Gusta as—as—” + </p> + <p> + “As you are, eh? Well, maybe I am, Zoeth. When she was first willed to us, + as you might say, I used to wonder how we'd ever get along with her; now I + wonder how we got along without her. If she should be—er—took + away from us, I don't know—” + </p> + <p> + “Sshh, shh, Shadrach! Don't talk about anything like that.” + </p> + <p> + Mary-'Gusta was making good progress at school. At fourteen she graduated + from the grammar school and in the fall was to enter the high school. She + was popular among her mates, although she never sought popularity. + </p> + <p> + At picnics and church sociables she had always a small circle about her + and the South Harniss boys were prominent in that circle. But Mary-'Gusta, + although she liked boys and girls well enough, never showed a liking for + one more than the other and she was too busy at the house and in the store + to have her young friends hanging about. They bothered her, she said. As + for having a particular friend of the other sex, which some of the girls + in her class no older than she seemed to think a necessary proof of being + in their teens, she laughed at the idea. She had her adopted uncles and + Isaiah to take care of and boy beaux were silly. Talking about them as + these girls did was sillier still. + </p> + <p> + That summer—the summer preceding Mary-'Gusta's fifteenth birthday—was + the liveliest South Harniss had known. The village was beginning to feel + the first symptoms of its later boom as a summer resort. A number of + cottages had been built for people from Boston and New York and Chicago, + and there was talk of a new hotel. Also there was talk of several new + stores, but Hamilton and Company were inclined to believe this merely talk + and did not worry about it. Their trade was unusually brisk and the demand + for Mary-'Gusta's services as salesgirl interfered considerably with her + duties as assistant housekeeper. + </p> + <p> + One fine, clear July morning she came up to the store early in order that + the partners might go down to the house for breakfast. They had gone and + she had just finished placing on the counters and in other likely spots + about the store sheets of sticky fly paper. Flies are a nuisance in South + Harniss in midsummer and Captain Shad detested them. Just as the last + sheet was laid in place, a young fellow and a girl came in. Mary-'Gusta + recognized them both. The girl was the seventeen-year-old daughter of a + wealthy summer resident, a Mr. Keith from Chicago. The Keiths had a fine + cottage on the bluff at the other end of the village. The young chap with + her was, so gossip reported, a college friend of her brother. His surname + was prosaic enough, being Smith, but his first name was Crawford and his + home was somewhere in the Far West. He was big and good-looking, and the + Boston papers mentioned him as one of the most promising backs on the + Harvard Freshman eleven. Next year, so the sporting writers opined, he + would almost certainly make the Varsity team. Most of Mary-'Gusta's + feminine friends and acquaintances rated him “perfectly splendid” and + regarded Edna Keith with envious eyes. + </p> + <p> + This morning both he and the Keith girl were arrayed in the gayest of + summer regalia. Young Smith's white flannel trousers were carefully + creased, his blue serge coat was without a wrinkle, his tie and socks were + a perfect match, and his cap was of a style which the youth of South + Harniss might be wearing the following summer, but not this one. Take him + “by and large,” as Captain Shadrach would have said, Crawford Smith was an + immaculate and beautiful exhibit; of which fact he, being eighteen years + of age, was doubtless quite aware. + </p> + <p> + He and the Keith girl were, so Mary-'Gusta learned, a committee of two + selected to purchase certain supplies for a beach picnic, a combination + clambake and marshmallow toast, which was to take place over at Setuckit + Point that day. Sam Keith, Edna's brother, and the other members of the + party had gone on to Jabez Hedges' residence, where Jabez had promised to + meet them with the clams and other things for the bake. Edna and her + escort, having made their purchases at Hamilton and Company's, were to + join them at the “clam-man's.” Then the whole party was to go down to the + wharf and the sailboat. + </p> + <p> + Miss Edna, who was a talkative damsel, informed Mary-'Gusta of these facts + at once. Also she announced that they must hurry like everything. + </p> + <p> + “You see,” she said, “we told Sam and the rest we'd be at the clam-man's + in ten minutes, and, if we're not there, Sam will be awfully cross. He + hates to wait for people. And we've been too long already. It's all your + fault, Crawford; you would stop to hear that fruit man talk. I told you + you mustn't.” + </p> + <p> + The “fruit man” was Mr. Gaius Small, and, although he stammered, he loved + the sound of his own voice. The demand for a dozen oranges furnished Gaius + with subject sufficient for a lengthy monologue—“forty drawls and + ten stutters to every orange,” quoting Captain Shad again. + </p> + <p> + “I told you you mustn't get him started,” went on Miss Keith, gushingly. + “He'll talk forever if he has a chance. But you would do it. Asking him if + he kept pomegranates and bread-fruit! The idea! I'm sure he doesn't know + what a pomegranate is. You were SO solemn and he was SO ridiculous! I + thought I should DIE. You really are the drollest person, Crawford Smith! + I don't know what I shall do with you.” + </p> + <p> + It was evident that her opinion of young Smith was not different from that + of other young ladies of her age. Also that Crawford himself was not + entirely unconscious of that opinion. At eighteen, to be set upon a + pedestal and worshiped, to have one's feeblest joke hailed as a + masterpiece of wit, is dangerous for the idol; the effort of sustaining + the elevated position entails the risk of a fall. Crawford was but + eighteen and a good fellow, but he had been worshiped a good deal. He was + quite as sensible as other young chaps of his age, which statement means + exactly that and no more. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” he said, with a complacent grin, “we learned how to pronounce + 'pomegranate' at any rate. You begin with a pup-pup-pup, as if you were + calling a dog, and you finish with a grunt like a pig. I wish I had asked + him for a persimmon; then he'd have made a noise like a cat.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Keith, when she recovered from her spasm of merriment, declared her + companion “perfectly killing.” + </p> + <p> + “But we must hurry,” she said. “We really must Crawford, you buy the + things. I should think of that fruit man and laugh all the time, I know I + should.” + </p> + <p> + She remained by the door and the young gentleman strolled to the counter. + He cast an amused glance about the store; its display of stock was, thanks + to Mary-'Gusta's recent efforts at tidiness, not quite the conglomerate + mass it had been when the partners were solely responsible, but the + variety was still strikingly obvious. + </p> + <p> + “Humph!” observed Crawford; “I've forgotten what we came to buy, but I'm + sure it is here, whatever it is. Some emporium, this! Introduce me to the + proprietor, will you, Edna?” + </p> + <p> + Edna giggled. + </p> + <p> + “She isn't the proprietor,” she said. “She is just the clerk, that's all. + Her name is—I've forgotten your name, dear. What is it?” + </p> + <p> + “Mary Lathrop,” replied Mary-'Gusta, shortly. She objected to being + addressed as “dear” and she strongly objected to the patronizing tone in + which it was uttered. Edna Keith was older than she, but not old enough to + patronize. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes, so it is,” said the young lady. “But that isn't what everyone + calls you. They call you something else—something funny—Oh, I + know! Mary-'Gusta, that's it. I knew it was funny. Mary-'Gusta, this is + Mr. Smith. He wants to buy some things. And he's in a GREAT hurry.” + </p> + <p> + “Charmed, Mary-'Gusta,” said Mr. Smith. Mary-'Gusta did not appear + charmed. She asked him what he wanted. + </p> + <p> + “Search ME,” said the young gentleman, cheerfully. “There was a list, + wasn't there, Edna? You have it, I think.” + </p> + <p> + Edna produced the list, scrawled in pencil on the back of an envelope. + Crawford looked it over. + </p> + <p> + “Sam's writing isn't exactly print,” he observed, “but I can guess at it. + Let's see—a pound of butter. Where's the butter department of this + Bon Marche, Edna?” + </p> + <p> + Edna, after another convulsion, declared she didn't know. + </p> + <p> + “No doubt Miss—er—Mary Jane knows,” went on her companion. + “Why, yes, of course she does. Right there, behind the oilskin jacket. + Remove jacket, open door—behold, the icebox and the butter. Neat, + compact, and convenient. One pound only, Elizabeth Eliza. Thank you.” + </p> + <p> + “Her name isn't Elizabeth Eliza,” giggled Miss Keith. “Isn't he awful, + Mary-'Gusta! You mustn't mind him.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't,” said Mary-'Gusta, promptly. “What else do you want?” + </p> + <p> + Crawford consulted the list. “The next item,” he said, “appears to be a—er—certain + kind of ham. I blush to mention it, but I must. It is deviled ham. Have + you that kind of ham, Mary-'Gusta?” + </p> + <p> + Mary-'Gusta took the can of deviled ham from the shelf. Crawford shook his + head. + </p> + <p> + “To think that one so young should be so familiar with ham of that kind!” + he said. “She didn't speak its name, though. Suppose I had asked you what + kind of ham you had, Miss—er—'Gusta how would you have got + around it?” + </p> + <p> + Mary-'Gusta did not answer. She was very angry, but she was determined + that her tormentor should not know it. + </p> + <p> + “A young lady of few words,” commented Mr. Smith. “Next item appears to be + six boxes of marshmallows. Where is the marshmallow department, Mary + Jane?” + </p> + <p> + Mary-'Gusta hesitated. The tin boxes of marshmallows were on the shelf + behind the counter under the candy case. But there was a fresh assortment + in an unopened packing box in the back room, a box which had just come + from the wholesale confectioner's in Boston. Her Uncle Zoeth had expressed + a fear that those beneath the counter were rather stale. + </p> + <p> + Miss Keith fidgeted. “Oh, dear!” she exclaimed. “This is SO slow. I know + Sam and the rest won't wait for us at the clam-man's much longer.” + </p> + <p> + Her companion whistled. “Is the word 'hurry' in the South Harniss + dictionary, Edna?” he inquired. “How about it, Mary Jane?” + </p> + <p> + Mary-'Gusta was determined not to hurry. This superior young man wished + her to do so and that was reason sufficient for delay. + </p> + <p> + Young Smith sighed resignedly. “Edna,” he said, “suppose we sit down. The + word is NOT in the dictionary.” + </p> + <p> + There was but one chair, except those behind the counters, in the store. + Miss Keith took that with an exclamation of impatience. Crawford Smith, + whistling a mournful dirge, sauntered to the end of the counter and sat + down upon a nail keg. + </p> + <p> + Mary-'Gusta also uttered an exclamation. It is well to look before one + leaps, also, occasionally, before one sits. That keg had, spread across + its top, a sheet of the fresh and very sticky fly paper. Before she could + have protested, even if she had wished to do so, the young gentleman's + spotless white flannels and the fly paper came in contact, close and + clinging contact. + </p> + <p> + Mary-'Gusta put a hand to her mouth. Crawford looked at her, caught the + direction of her look, and looked in that direction himself. His whistle + stopped in the middle of a note and his face immediately became a match + for his socks and tie, a beautiful rich crimson, the chosen color of his + University. + </p> + <p> + Miss Keith, from her seat by the door, could not see beyond the end of the + counter. Consequently she was unaware of the mishap to the white flannels. + But Mary-'Gusta saw and knew; also she could see that Mr. Smith knew. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, dear!” exclaimed Edna, impatiently. “We are dreadfully late now. + We'll never get there on time. Sam won't wait for us; I know he won't. + Where are those marshmallows? Can't you please hurry, Mary-'Gusta?” + </p> + <p> + Mary-'Gusta's eyes were sparkling. Her manner was provokingly deliberate. + She took a box of marshmallows from beneath the counter. + </p> + <p> + “There are some here,” she said, “but I'm afraid they aren't very fresh. + The fresh ones, those that have just come, are in a box in the back room. + That box hasn't been opened yet. If you can wait I'll open it for you.” + </p> + <p> + Young Smith said nothing. Miss Keith, however, spoke her mind. + </p> + <p> + “Of course we can't wait,” she declared. “I'm sure these will do. They + will do, won't they, Crawford?” + </p> + <p> + And still Crawford remained silent. Mary-'Gusta, who was enjoying this + portion of the interview as much as she had disliked its beginning, + offered a suggestion. + </p> + <p> + “If you will just come here and look at these,” she said, with mischievous + gravity, addressing the young gentleman on the nail keg, “perhaps you can + tell whether they're fresh enough.” + </p> + <p> + The young gentleman did not rise. His face retained its brilliant color + and his lips moved, but his answer was not audible. At his age the dread + of appearing ridiculous, especially in the presence of a youthful and + charming female, is above all others hateful. And Edna Keith was not the + only girl in the picnic party; there were others. She would be certain to + tell them. Crawford Smith foresaw a horrible day, a day of disgrace and + humiliation, one in which he was destined to furnish amusement without + sharing the fun. And Sam Keith, who had remarked upon the splendor of his + friend's attire, would gloat—not only here in South Harniss, but + elsewhere—in Cambridge, for instance. An older man would have risen, + laughed whether he felt like laughing or not—and have expressed his + opinion of fly paper. Crawford was not yet a man; he was in the transition + stage, a boy fondly hoping that other people might think him a man. So he + sat still until it was too late to rise, and then wished he had risen in + the first place. + </p> + <p> + “My goodness!” exclaimed the fidgety Miss Keith, “why don't you look at + them, Crawford? What are you waiting for?” + </p> + <p> + Mary-'Gusta, the box of marshmallows in her hand, regarded the boy on the + nail keg. His eyes met hers and in them was a look of such utter misery + that the girl relented. Her feeling of satisfied resentment changed to one + almost of pity. She had been made to feel ridiculous herself at various + times in her short life and she remembered the sensation. Mary-'Gusta, as + has been mentioned before in this history, was old for her years. + </p> + <p> + She considered a moment. Then she thrust the box beneath the counter. + </p> + <p> + “I guess I'd better not sell you those, anyway,” she said with decision. + “Uncle Zoeth said they weren't fresh. I'll open the case in the back + room.” + </p> + <p> + Edna stamped her foot. + </p> + <p> + “We can't wait for that,” she declared. “We must go without them, I + suppose. Oh, dear! And they depended on us to get them. It's so provoking. + Now we can't have any toast at all and it would have been such fun.” + </p> + <p> + Mary-'Gusta glanced once more at the occupant of the keg. + </p> + <p> + “I was thinking,” she said, slowly, “that you needn't both wait unless you + wanted to. Perhaps Miss Keith might go on and tell the others and—er—Mr. + Smith could stay here until I opened the box. Then he could meet you at + the boat.” + </p> + <p> + Edna hesitated. “Shall I, Crawford?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + Her companion did not hesitate. “I think perhaps you'd better, Edna,” he + said. “I—I guess I won't be long.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Keith hurried out. Mary-'Gusta turned her attention to the remaining + visitor. + </p> + <p> + “You can get up now,” she said. “Some of it will tear off, anyway, and if + you hurry you will have time to run home and change your—your + clothes.” + </p> + <p> + Crawford was evidently much surprised, also his embarrassment was not + lessened; but he rose. + </p> + <p> + “Then—then you knew?” he stammered. + </p> + <p> + “Of course I knew. I saw you sit down on it, didn't I? If I'd known what + you were going to do I'd have told you to look out. But you did it so + quick I couldn't. Now tear off as much as you can.” + </p> + <p> + The young gentleman obeyed orders. “Does it show much?” he queried. “I + can't see. Is there much left?” + </p> + <p> + Mary-'Gusta smiled. His contortions were as violent as they were vain. + “There's enough,” she said simply. “Here are the things you bought. Now go + out of the back door and cut across the fields. It's the shortest way + home.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Smith took his various parcels, including the six boxes of + marshmallows which Mary-'Gusta produced from beneath the counter. “I + thought you said these were stale,” he observed, wonderingly. + </p> + <p> + “I said they weren't real fresh, but they're fresh enough for a toast. I + said that so that the Keith girl wouldn't wait. I didn't think you wanted + her to.” + </p> + <p> + “You bet your life I didn't! So that's why you said you would have to open + the other box? Just—just to help me out?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. Now don't stop any longer. You'll have to run, you know. Go out the + back way.” + </p> + <p> + Crawford started for the door of the back room, but at that door he + paused. + </p> + <p> + “Say,” he said, feelingly, “this is mighty white of you, do you know it? + And after the way I guyed you when I first came in! I guess I was rather + fresh, wasn't I?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, you were.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes, I guess I was. I thought you were just a country kid, you know, + and I—say, by George, you WERE white. If I'd been you I'd have got + square. You had the chance; 'twould have served me right for playing the + smart Aleck. I beg your pardon. You're all RIGHT! And I'm awfully sorry I + was such a chump.” + </p> + <p> + It was a straightforward, honest apology and confession of fault. + Mary-'Gusta was pleased, but she did not show it. He had referred to her + as a kid and she did not like that. + </p> + <p> + “If you don't hurry—yes, and run like everything,” she said, “you + won't have time to get home and change and meet the others at the boat. + And somebody else will see you, too. You'd better go.” + </p> + <p> + The young man went without further delay. Mary-'Gusta watching from the + back door saw him racing across the fields in the direction of the Keith + cottage. When her uncles returned she said nothing of the occurrence. She + considered it funny, but she knew Crawford Smith did not, and she was sure + he would prefer to have the secret kept. + </p> + <p> + The following afternoon the partners of Hamilton and Company entertained a + caller at the store. That evening Shadrach spoke of the call to + Mary-'Gusta. + </p> + <p> + “That young Smith feller that's been visitin' the Keiths was in today,” + said the Captain. “Didn't want to buy nothin'; said he just happened in, + that's all. Asked where you was, he did. I didn't know he knew you, + Mary-'Gusta.” + </p> + <p> + Mary-'Gusta, who was busy clearing the supper table, answered without + looking round. “He and Edna Keith bought some things at the store + yesterday,” she said. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, so he said. He said tell you everything was all right and he had a + fine time at the picnic. Seemed to cal'late you was a pretty bright girl. + We knew that afore, of course, but it was nice of him to say so. He's + leavin' on tomorrow mornin's train. Goin' way out West, he is, to Nevada; + that's where he and his dad live. His ma's dead, so he told us. Must be + tough to live so fur off from salt water: I couldn't stand it, I know + that. Funny thing about that young feller, too; his face looked sort of + familiar to me and Zoeth. Seemed as if he looked like somebody we knew, + but of course we didn't know any of his folks; we don't know any Smiths + from way off there.” + </p> + <p> + The subject was dropped for the time, but two days later the expressman + brought a package to the house. The package was addressed to Miss Mary + Augusta Lathrop and contained a five-pound basket of expensive chocolates + and bonbons. There was a note with it which read as follows: + </p> + <p> + Hope you'll like these. They are fresh, at least Huyler's people swear + they are, but I don't believe they are as good as those marshmallows. And + I KNOW they are not as fresh as a certain person was at a certain time. + Please eat them and forget the other freshness. + </p> + <p> + C. S. + </p> + <p> + You were a perfect little brick not to tell. + </p> + <p> + Mary-'Gusta was obliged to tell then, but she made her uncles and Isaiah + promise not to do so. She, with the able assistance of the other members + of the household, ate the contents of the basket in due time. The basket + itself was taken to the parlor, where it was given a place beside the + other curiosities. As for the note, that disappeared. And yet, if one had + investigated the contents of the small drawer of Mary-'Gusta's bureau, + where she kept her most intimate treasures, the mystery of its + disappearance might have been solved. + </p> + <p> + It was the only epistle of its kind the girl had yet received; and, after + all, good-looking young college men are what they are. And Mary-'Gusta, in + spite of her queerness, was feminine—and human. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0009" id="link2HCH0009"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IX + </h2> + <p> + When Mary-'Gusta was seventeen a great event took place. The happening + which led to it was trivial enough, but the results were important and + far-reaching. They led to the second great change in her life, a change as + important as that brought about by her memorable “visit” to South Harniss. + </p> + <p> + She was a girl in years still, but tall for her age, and in thought and + manner almost a young woman. Her management of her uncles and Isaiah was + now complete. They no longer protested, even to each other, against the + management and, in fact, gloried in it. The cook and steward accepted her + orders concerning the daily marketing and he and she audited the monthly + bills. The white house by the shore was a different place altogether now + and “chicken-pox tablecloths” and tarnished silver were things of the + forgotten past. At the store she had become almost a silent partner, and + Hamilton and Company's “emporium” was, thanks to her judgment and tact, if + not yet an up-to-date establishment, at least a shop where commodities to + be sold were in places where they might be seen by prospective purchasers + and readily located by the proprietors. + </p> + <p> + She spent a good deal of her time, except in school hours, at the store + and much of the buying as well as the selling was done by her. The + drummers representing New York and Boston wholesale houses knew her and + cherished keen respect for her abilities as a selector and purchaser of + goods. + </p> + <p> + “Say,” said one of these gentlemen, after a lengthy session during which + his attempts to work off several “stickers” had been frustrated by + Mary-'Gusta's common sense and discernment—“Say, that girl of yours + is a wonder, do you know it? She's the sharpest buyer I ever run across on + my trips down here. I don't take a back seat for anybody when it comes to + selling goods, and there's mighty little I can't sell; but I can't bluff + her. She knows what's what, you hear me!” + </p> + <p> + Shadrach, to whom this remark was made, chuckled. “You bet you!” he + declared, with enthusiasm. “Anybody that gets ahead of our Mary-'Gusta has + got to turn out afore the mornin' watch. She's smart. Zoeth and me ain't + aboard the same craft with her.” + </p> + <p> + “I should say not. And you can't get gay with her, either. Most girls of + her age and as good a looker as she is don't object to a little ragging: + they're used to it and they like it—but not her. She isn't fishing + for boxes of candy or invitations to dances. That line of talk means + good-by and no sale where she is. Business and just business, that's all + there is to her. How long are you goin' to keep her here?” + </p> + <p> + “How long? Why, forever, I hope. What are you talkin' about?” + </p> + <p> + The drummer winked. “That's all right,” he observed. “You want to keep + her, I don't doubt: but one of these days somebody else'll be wanting her + more than you do. Mr. Right'll be coming along here some time and then—good + night! She's young yet, but in a couple of years she'll be a queen and + then—well, then maybe I'll stand a better chance of unloading those + last summer caps the house has got in stock. Girls like her don't stay + single and keep store; there's too much demand and not enough competition. + Gad! If I wasn't an antique and married already I don't know but I'd be + getting into line. That's what!” + </p> + <p> + Captain Shadrach was inclined to be angry, but, although he would not have + admitted it, he realized the truth of this frank statement. Mary-'Gusta + was pretty, she was more than that, and the line was already forming. + Jimmie Bacheldor had long ago ceased to be a competitor; that friendship + had ended abruptly at the time of David's narrow escape; but there were + others, plenty of them. Daniel Higgins, son of Mr. Solomon Higgins, the + local lumber dealer and undertaker, was severely smitten. Dan was at work + in Boston, where he was engaged in the cheerful and remunerative business + of selling coffins for the American Casket Company. He was diligent and + active and his future promised to be bright, at least so his proud father + boasted. He came home for holidays and vacations and his raiment was + anything but funereal, but Mary-'Gusta was not impressed either by the + raiment or the personality beneath it. She treated the persistent Daniel + as a boy and a former schoolmate. When he assumed manly airs she laughed + at him and when he invited her to accompany him to the Cattle Show at + Ostable she refused and said she was going with Uncle Zoeth. + </p> + <p> + Dan Higgins was not the only young fellow who found the store of Hamilton + and Company an attractive lounging place. Some of the young gentlemen not + permanent residents of South Harniss also appeared to consider it a + pleasant place to visit on Summer afternoons. They came to buy, of course, + but they remained to chat. Mary-'Gusta might have sailed or picknicked a + good deal and in the best of company, socially speaking, if she had cared + to do so. She did not so care. + </p> + <p> + “They don't want me, Uncle Shad,” she said. “And I don't want to go.” + </p> + <p> + “Course they want you,” declared Shadrach, stoutly. “If they didn't want + you they wouldn't ask you, 'tain't likely. And I heard that young Keith + feller askin' you to go out sailin' with him this very afternoon.” + </p> + <p> + “You didn't hear his sister ask me, did you? There, there, Uncle Shad, + don't worry about me. I'm having a good time; a very much better time than + if I went sailing with the Keiths.” + </p> + <p> + “What's the matter with the Keiths? They're as nice folks as come to South + Harniss.” + </p> + <p> + “Of course they are.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, then! And you're as good as they are, ain't you?” + </p> + <p> + “I hope so. Uncle Shad, why don't you wear a white flannel suit in hot + weather? Mr. Keith, Sam's father, wore one at the church garden party the + other day.” + </p> + <p> + The Captain stared at her. “Why don't I wear—what?” he stammered. + </p> + <p> + “A white flannel suit. You're as good as Mr. Keith, aren't you?” + </p> + <p> + “I guess I am. I don't know why I ain't. But what kind of a question's + that? I'd look like a plain fool tagged out in one of them things: anyway, + I'd feel like one. I don't belong in a white flannel suit. I ain't no + imitation dude.” + </p> + <p> + “And I don't belong in Sam Keith's yacht. At least Mr. Keith and Edna + would feel that I didn't. I don't want to be considered an imitation, + either.” + </p> + <p> + Shadrach shook his head. “You ain't like anybody else,” he said. “You're a + funny girl, Mary-'Gusta.” + </p> + <p> + “I suppose I am; but I'm not as funny as I should be if I tried to BE + somebody else. No, Uncle Shad, you'll just have to bear with me as I am, + funniness and all.” + </p> + <p> + A few days after this Keith, senior, came into the store. He was not + arrayed in the white flannels but was wearing a rather shabby but very + comfortable tweed jacket and trousers and a white canvas hat of the kind + which Hamilton and Company sold for fifty cents. His shirt was of the + soft-collared variety and his shoes were what South Harniss called + “sneakers.” + </p> + <p> + John Keith's visits to Cape Cod were neither very frequent nor lengthy. + His wife and family came in June and remained until late September, but + his sojourns were seldom longer than a week at a time and there were + intervals of a month or more between them. In Chicago he was the head of a + large business and that business demanded close attention. When he left it + he left his cares with it and enjoyed himself in his own way. That way + included old clothes, golf, a boat, and just as few tea and garden parties + as his wife would permit. + </p> + <p> + He was planning a fishing trip and had stopped at the store to buy some + tobacco. The partners had gone home for dinner and Mary-'Gusta was tending + shop. At that moment she was busy with the traveling representative of + Messrs. Bernstein, Goldberg and Baun, of Providence, wholesale dealers in + stationery, cards and novelties. The time was August, but Mr. Kron, the + drummer, was already booking orders for the Christmas season. His samples + were displayed upon the counter and he and Mary-'Gusta were deep in + conversation. + </p> + <p> + “That's what you ought to have,” declared Mr. Kron, with enthusiasm. + “Believe me, there's goin' to be some call for that line of stuff this + year. The house can't turn 'em out fast enough.” + </p> + <p> + “But what is it?” asked Mary-'Gusta. “What's it for?” + </p> + <p> + “It's a combination calendar and beauty-box,” explained Mr. Kron. “Hang it + on the wall by your bureau—see? In the mornin' you can't remember + what day it is. All right, there's the calendar. Then you want to doll + yourself up for—well, for the party you're goin' to—” + </p> + <p> + “The same morning?” interrupted Mary-'Gusta. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Kron grinned. He was a young man and this was his first trip in that + section. His clothes were neither modest nor retiring and he, himself, did + not suffer from these failings. Also he prided himself on having a way + with the ladies, especially the younger ladies. And Mary-'Gusta was + distinctly the most attractive young person he had met on this trip. + </p> + <p> + He laughed in appreciation of the joke. + </p> + <p> + “Say,” he observed, admiringly, “you're up to the minute, ain't you! + You're some kidder, all right. Are there many more in this burg like you? + If there are I'm goin' to move in and settle down. What?” + </p> + <p> + Mary-'Gusta did not laugh, nor did she answer. Instead, she turned to the + gentleman who had entered the store. + </p> + <p> + “Good morning, Mr. Keith,” she said. “Was there anything you wanted?” + </p> + <p> + Keith smiled. “No hurry,” he said. “I've got a little time to kill and if + you don't mind I'll kill it here. I'll sit down and wait, if I may. That + boatman of mine will be along pretty soon.” + </p> + <p> + He took the chair by the door. Mr. Kron continued his exploitation of the + combination calendar and beauty-box. + </p> + <p> + “You are goin' to a party,” he went on, “either that night or that + afternoon or sometime. Sure you are! Girls like you ain't handed the go-by + on many parties in this neck of the woods—am I right? Well, then, + when the time comes, you pull down the flap. There's your beauty-box, + lookin'-glass, powder puff and powder, all complete. Now a novelty like + that will sell—” + </p> + <p> + “We couldn't use it,” interrupted Mary-'Gusta. “Show me something else.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Kron, disappointed but far from discouraged, showed her something else—many + somethings. Concerning each he was enthusiastic, slangy, and familiar. + Mary-'Gusta paid little attention to slang or enthusiasm; the familiarity + she ignored utterly. She selected several of the novelties, a rather + extensive line of Christmas cards, and in the matters of price and cash + discounts was keen and businesslike. Keith watched and listened, at first + with amusement, then with growing admiration for the girl's simplicity and + good sense. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Kron's admiration was outspoken. + </p> + <p> + “Say,” he said, as he repacked his samples, “you're a mighty clever buyer, + do you know it? That line of stuff you've ordered is the cream, that's + what it is. You made a mistake in not layin' in a dozen or two of those + combination beauty-boxes, but that's all right. Here, have one for + yourself. Take it with my compliments.” + </p> + <p> + Mary-'Gusta declined. “No, thank you,” she said. + </p> + <p> + “Why not? It don't come out of my pocket. The firm expects me to hand out + little keepsakes like that. I've been plantin' 'em with the girls all the + way down.” + </p> + <p> + “No, thank you,” she replied. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Kron, having finished his business as representative of Messrs. + Bernstein, Goldberg and Baun, attempted a stroke of his own. + </p> + <p> + “Say,” he said, “I've got a little spare time on my hands this evenin'; I + shan't make the next town until tomorrow. There's a new movie theater just + opened over to Orham. They tell me it's all to the mustard. I can hire a + rig here and you and me might drive over tonight and take it in. What do + you say, Kid?” + </p> + <p> + “No, thank you,” said Mary-'Gusta again. + </p> + <p> + “But—” + </p> + <p> + “No, thank you. Good day.” + </p> + <p> + She turned away to enter the order she had just given in a book on the + desk. Mr. Kron tried again, but she did not appear to hear him. He + grinned, observed “Oh, very well!” and, with a wink at Mr. Keith, went + out, a suitcase in each hand. + </p> + <p> + Keith rose from the chair and, walking over to the counter, requested to + be supplied with the tobacco he had come to buy. Mary-'Gusta gave it to + him. Her cheeks were red and Keith was surprised to notice that she looked + almost as if she would like to cry. He guessed the reason. + </p> + <p> + “That young man will get himself thoroughly kicked some day,” he observed; + “I'm not sure that I oughtn't to have done it myself just now. He annoyed + you, I'm afraid.” + </p> + <p> + Mary-'Gusta answered without looking at him. + </p> + <p> + “That's all right,” she said. “I'm foolish, I guess. He meant to be nice, + perhaps. Some girls may like that sort of niceness; I don't.” + </p> + <p> + “Why didn't you tell him to get out?” + </p> + <p> + “I wanted to see his samples. It is time for us to buy our Christmas + things and I had rather choose them myself, that's all.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! But Mr. Hamilton or the Captain—I should think—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, they might have bought some that we couldn't sell.” + </p> + <p> + “The beauty-boxes, for instance?” + </p> + <p> + Mary-'Gusta smiled. “Why, yes,” she admitted; “perhaps.” + </p> + <p> + “I see. But it was rather an ordeal for you. Do you have to endure much of + that sort of thing?” + </p> + <p> + “No more than any girl who keeps store, I guess.” + </p> + <p> + At the dinner table that evening Keith referred to his experience as + listener in Hamilton and Company's shop. + </p> + <p> + “That girl with the queer name,” he said, “a niece of those two old chaps + who run the place, I believe she is. Do you know anything about her, + Gertrude?” + </p> + <p> + Before Mrs. Keith could reply, Edna spoke: + </p> + <p> + “Ask Sam, Dad,” she said, mischievously. “Sam knows about her. He just + adores that store; he spends half his time there.” + </p> + <p> + “Nonsense, Edna!” protested Sam, turning red. “I don't do any such thing.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes, you do. And you know about Mary-'Gusta too. He says she's a + peach, Daddy.” + </p> + <p> + “Humph!” grunted her brother, indignantly. “Well, she is one. She's got + every girl in your set skinned a mile for looks. But I don't know anything + about her, of course.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Keith broke in. “Skinned a mile!” she repeated, with a shudder. “Sam, + what language you do use! Yes, John,” she added, addressing her husband. + “I know the girl well. She's pretty and she is sensible. For a girl who + has had no opportunities and has lived all her life here in South Harniss + she is really quite remarkable. Why do you speak of her, John?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Keith related a part of the conversation between Mary-'Gusta and Mr. + Kron. + </p> + <p> + “She handled the fellow splendidly,” he said. “She talked business with + him and she wouldn't let him talk anything else. But it was plain enough + to see that she felt insulted and angry. It seems a pity that a girl like + that should have to put up with that sort of thing. I wonder if her + uncles, old Mr. Hamilton and Captain Shadrach, realize what happens when + they're not about? How would they take it, do you think, if I dropped a + hint?” + </p> + <p> + Edna laughed. “You would have to be very careful, Daddy,” she said. “Mr. + Hamilton and the Captain idolize Mary-'Gusta and she just worships them. + Besides, she isn't really their niece, you know. She is a young lady of + independent means—at least, so everybody says.” + </p> + <p> + Her father was surprised. He asked what she meant by “independent means.” + Mrs. Keith answered. + </p> + <p> + “The means are not very extensive, I imagine,” she said. “The story is + that this Mary-'Gusta—why they persist in calling her by that + dreadful name I can't understand—is the daughter of a former friend + and partner. Mr. Hamilton and Captain Gould adopted her and she has lived + with them ever since. She has money of her own, though no two of the + townspeople agree as to how much. I've heard it estimated all the way from + five to fifty thousand. She never speaks of it and those queer old uncles + of hers keep their affairs very much to themselves. But I agree with you, + John; it is a shame that she should have to spend her life here in South + Harniss. I think we ought to do something for her, if we can. I shall + think it over.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Keith was always doing something for somebody. At home in Chicago she + was president of her women's club and identified with goodness knows how + many charitable societies. In South Harniss she was active in church and + sewing circles. Her enthusiasm was always great, but her tact was + sometimes lacking. South Harniss people, some of them, were inclined to + consider her as a self-appointed boss interfering where she had no + business. + </p> + <p> + Her husband looked a trifle dubious. + </p> + <p> + “Be careful, Gertrude,” he cautioned. “Look out you don't offend. These + Cape Codders are self-respecting and touchy, you know. Anyone interfering + with their private affairs is likely to get into trouble.” + </p> + <p> + His wife resented the warning. “Don't throw cold water on everything, + John,” she said. “I know more about Cape Codders than you do. You only + meet them for a few weeks each summer. I flatter myself that I know them + and that they know and trust me. Of COURSE I shall be careful. And I shall + think the Mary-'Gusta matter over.” + </p> + <p> + She did think it over and a week later she came to her husband overflowing + with the excitement of a brilliant idea. A cousin of hers, a maiden lady + of sixty or thereabouts, wealthy and a semi-invalid who cherished her + ill-health, was in need of a female companion. Mrs. Keith was certain that + Mary-'Gusta would be just the person to fill that need. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Keith was by no means so certain. He raised some objections. + </p> + <p> + “Humph,” he said. “Well, Gertrude, to be frank, I don't think much of the + scheme. Cousin Clara has had one companion after the other for thirty + years. None of them has stayed with her very long. She requires a sort of + combination friend and lady's maid and secretary and waitress, and I don't + think our Mary-'Gusta would enjoy that sort of job. I certainly shouldn't—with + Clara.” + </p> + <p> + His wife was indignant. “I might have known you would be ready with the + cold water,” she declared. “Clara is—well, cranky, and particular + and all that, but the opportunity is wonderful. The girl would travel and + meet the best people—” + </p> + <p> + “She might remove their wraps, I admit.” + </p> + <p> + “Nonsense! And if Clara took a fancy to her she might leave her a good sum + of money when she died.” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps, providing the girl didn't die first. No, Gertrude, I'm sorry to + disappoint you, but I don't think much of your idea. Anyway, according to + my belief, you're approaching this thing from the wrong end. It isn't the + girl herself you should try to influence, but her uncles, or guardians, or + whatever they are. If I know her, and I've been making some inquiries, she + won't leave them. She will consider that they need her at the house and + store and she'll stay. They are the ones to influence. If the matter of + her welfare and future was put to them in the right light they might—well, + they might sacrifice themselves to benefit her.” + </p> + <p> + “Rubbish! I know I'm right. She'll jump at the opportunity. I shall tell + her about it this very afternoon.” + </p> + <p> + “She won't accept; I'll bet on it.” + </p> + <p> + His principal reason for non-belief in Mary-'Gusta's acceptance was his + knowledge of his wife's lack of tact. The girl did not consider herself, + nor was she, a subject of charity. And the position of combination friend + and servant would not appeal to her. John Keith had an idea of his own + concerning Mary-'Gusta, but it could wait until his wife's had failed. + </p> + <p> + It failed, of course, and Mrs. Keith, that evening, was indignant and + angry. + </p> + <p> + “I never was so treated in my life,” she declared. “That girl didn't know + her place at all. I'm through. I wash my hands of the whole matter.” + </p> + <p> + “Wasn't she polite?” inquired Keith. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, she was polite enough, as far as that goes, but she wouldn't even + consider my proposal. Wouldn't even hear me through. She said she had no + thought of leaving South Harniss. She was quite satisfied and contented + where she was. One would think I had come to ask a favor instead of + conferring one. Why, she seemed to think my plan almost ridiculous.” + </p> + <p> + “Did she say so?” + </p> + <p> + “No, of course she didn't. She thanked me and all that; but she snubbed me + just the same. I'm disgusted. I'm through—absolutely and completely + through trying to help that girl!” + </p> + <p> + Keith did not say, “I told you so”; in fact, he said little or nothing + more at the time. But a day or two afterwards he called at the store. + Zoeth and Captain Shadrach were alone there, their niece having gone down + to the house, a fact of which the caller was aware. + </p> + <p> + The partners liked John Keith. They considered him, as Captain Shad said, + “a first-rate, everyday sort of feller,” who did not patronize nor put on + airs, even though he was a “summer man” and rich. When he talked with them + it was of things they understood, local affairs, the cranberry crop, + fishing, and the doings of the Board of Selectmen. He was willing to + listen as well as talk and he did not refer to permanent residents as + “natives,” a habit of his wife's which irritated the Captain extremely. + </p> + <p> + “Jumpin' fire!” said the latter on one occasion, “every time that woman + calls us town folks 'natives' I feel as if she cal'lated I lived up a tree + and chucked coconuts at folks. I don't wonder some of the South Sea + Islands heathen eat missionaries. If I ATE that woman she might agree with + me; she don't as 'tis. Every time I say yes she says no, and that makes me + think yes harder'n ever.” + </p> + <p> + So Mrs. Keith was not popular with the South Harniss natives, perhaps + because she tried so hard to be; her husband, who apparently did not try + to be, was. He and his opinions were liked and respected. When he came + into the store, therefore, on this occasion, Zoeth and Shad welcomed him, + asked him to sit down, and the conversation began with the astonishing + rise in the price of sea-front property and drifted from that to other + timely and general topics. + </p> + <p> + Just how it drifted to Mary-'Gusta and her future neither of the partners + could have told—however, drift there it did, and they found + themselves chanting her praises to their caller, who seemed much + interested. + </p> + <p> + “She is a remarkably capable girl,” observed Mr. Keith. “And before we + realize it she will be a young woman. Are you planning that she shall keep + store and keep house for you the rest of her life, or the rest of yours?” + </p> + <p> + Zoeth shook his head. “Why,” he said, mildly, “I don't know's we've + planned much about it so fur. Those things sort of take care of + themselves, always seemed to me. Or the Almighty takes care of 'em for + us.” + </p> + <p> + Their visitor smiled. “Someone else will be willing and anxious to take + care of her before many years, or I miss my guess,” he said. “She is + likely to marry, you know. There must be some promising young fellows down + here.” + </p> + <p> + Shadrach sniffed. It was a subject he never discussed with his partner and + did not like even to think about. The remark of the hat and cap drummer + concerning the coming of a “Mr. Right” had troubled him not a little. + </p> + <p> + “Ugh!” he grunted; “there's promisin' ones enough. Most of those that are + contented to stay here in South Harniss are nothin' BUT promise; they + ain't so strong on makin' good. 'Tain't like 'twas when Zoeth and me were + young ourselves. Now all the smart, ambitious boys go up to the city to + work.” + </p> + <p> + “Some of the girls go up there, too, don't they? To school, or college? + Didn't I hear that Christopher Mullet's daughter was at school in + Bridgewater?” + </p> + <p> + “Ugh!” grunted Shadrach again. “I cal'late you did hear. If you didn't + you're the only one in town that ain't. Becky Mullet—yes, and Chris, + too—ain't done anything but brag about their Irene's goin' off to + what they call 'finishin' school.' Judas! I see HER finish. She ain't got—I + swan that girl ain't got anything in her head but gas, and every time she + opens her mouth she loses enough of that to keep a lighthouse lit up all + night.” + </p> + <p> + “Shadrach,” murmured Zoeth, “don't say such unlikely things about folks. + Be charitable as you can.” + </p> + <p> + “Judas! I am—as much as I can. If I wasn't charitable to that Mullet + girl I'd be talkin' yet. I hove to afore I'd got scarcely under way.” + </p> + <p> + Keith put in a word. “Finishing schools are not all bad, by any means,” he + said. “There are various kinds and grades, of course, but a good private + school for girls is a fine thing. It teaches them to meet and judge people + of all kinds, and that fine feathers don't always make fine birds. Then, + too, a girl at a good school of that sort is under strict discipline and + her acquaintances, male acquaintances especially, are chosen with care. + Sixteen to eighteen is a dangerous age for the average girl. + </p> + <p> + “By the way,” he added, “did your niece tell you of her experience with + that traveling salesman the other day, the fellow selling Christmas + novelties? No? Well, I happened to be here at the time. It was rather + interesting.” + </p> + <p> + He told of Mary-'Gusta's session with Mr. Kron. The partners listened with + growing indignation. + </p> + <p> + “Well, by the jumpin'!” exclaimed Captain Shad. “Did you ever hear such + brassy talk in your life! I wish to thunder I'd been here. There'd have + been one mighty sick patient ready for the doctor and he wouldn't have + been a South Harniss native either. But Mary-'Gusta didn't take none of + his sauce, I tell you; that girl of ours is all right!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, she is all right. But she didn't enjoy the experience, that was + plain enough, and, so far as I can see, she is likely to have a good many + others of the same kind. Now it isn't my business, I know that; you can + tell me to shut up and clear out any time you like, of course; but do you + think it is just fair to a girl like your niece to condemn her to a life + of storekeeping or the alternative of marrying one of the promising young + men you've been talking about? Don't you think such a girl as she is + deserves a chance; every chance you can give her?” + </p> + <p> + The two partners stared at him open-mouthed. Shadrach, as usual, spoke + first. + </p> + <p> + “Condemn her?” he repeated. “Condemn Mary-'Gusta? A chance? Why—” + </p> + <p> + “Hush, Shadrach,” interrupted Zoeth. “Mr. Keith ain't done yet. He's goin' + to tell us what he means. Go on, Mr. Keith, what do you mean?” + </p> + <p> + Keith, having broken the ice, and found the water not so chilly as he had + feared it might be, plunged in. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I mean this,” he said. “I confess frankly that I have been very + favorably impressed by your niece. She is an unusual girl—unusually + pretty, of course, but much more than that. She is simple and brave and + sensible and frank. If she were my daughter I should be very proud of her. + I know you are. She should have, it seems to me, the opportunity to make + the most of her qualities and personality. I've been thinking about her a + great deal ever since my call at the store here the other day. Now I've + got a suggestion to make. You can take it or leave it, but I assure you it + is made with the best of intentions and solely in her interest as I see + it; and I hope you'll take it after you've thought it over. Here it is.” + </p> + <p> + He went on to impart the suggestion. His hearers listened, Zoeth silently + and Shadrach with occasional mutterings and exclamations. + </p> + <p> + “So there you are,” said Keith in conclusion. “The school is a good one, + one of the best in Boston. Two years there will do worlds for your niece. + It has done worlds for other girls I have known. It is rather expensive, + of course, but, as I understand it, Mary has money of her own of which + you, as her guardians, have charge. She couldn't spend a portion of that + money to better advantage.” + </p> + <p> + Zoeth said nothing, but he looked at the Captain and the Captain looked at + him. + </p> + <p> + “She HAS money of her own, hasn't she?” inquired Mr. Keith. “I have been + told she was left an independent fortune by her father.” + </p> + <p> + There was another interval of silence. The partners were quite aware of + the general belief in Mary-'Gusta's independent fortune. They had not + discouraged that belief. It was no one's business but theirs and their + respect and affection for Marcellus Hall had prevented the disclosure of + the latter's poverty. That secret not even Mary-'Gusta knew; she, too, + believed that the money which paid for her clothes and board and all the + rest was her own. Her uncles had helped her to think so. + </p> + <p> + So when their visitor asked the pointed question Zoeth looked at Shadrach + and the latter shook his head. + </p> + <p> + “Yup,” he answered, brusquely, “it's true enough, I cal'late. Marcellus + left her all he had. But—but look here, Mr. Keith. Do I understand + you to advise us to send Mary-'Gusta away—to school—for two + years? Jumpin' fire! How—how could we? She—why, what would we + do without her?” + </p> + <p> + “It would be harder for you here in the store, of course.” + </p> + <p> + “The store! 'Tain't the store I'm thinkin' about; it's me and Zoeth. + What'll WE do without her? Why, she—why, no daughter could mean more + to us than that girl does, and if Zoeth and me was her own—er—mother + and father we couldn't think more of her. We'd be adrift and out of sight + of land if Mary-'Gusta went away. No, no, we couldn't think of such a + thing.” + </p> + <p> + “Not even for her sake? She's worth a pretty big sacrifice, a girl like + that.” + </p> + <p> + A long discussion followed, a discussion interrupted by the arrival of + occasional customers but resumed as soon as each of these individuals + departed. Zoeth asked a question. + </p> + <p> + “This—this Miss—er—What's-her-name's school you're + talkin' about,” he asked, “a reg'lar boardin' school, is it?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but there are day pupils. It was my idea, provided you two were + willing to listen to my suggestion at all, to suggest that Mary attend as + a day pupil. She might live near the school instead of at it. That would + be much less expensive.” + </p> + <p> + “Um-hm,” mused Shadrach, “but—but she'd have to live somewheres, and + I for one would want to be mighty particular what sort of a place she + lived at.” + </p> + <p> + “Naturally. Well, I have thought of that, too, and here is suggestion + number three: I have a cousin—a cousin of my first wife's—who + lives on Pinckney Street, which is not far from the Misses Cabot's school. + This cousin—Mrs. Wyeth is her name—is a widow and she hasn't + too much money. She doesn't keep a boarding house exactly, but she has + been known to take a few of what she calls 'paying guests.' She's very + Bostonian and very particular concerning the references and family + connections of those guests, but I think I could manage that. If your + niece were placed in her care she would have a real home and meet only the + sort of people you would wish her to meet.” + </p> + <p> + He might have added that Mrs. Wyeth, being under many obligations, + pecuniary and otherwise, to her wealthy Chicago relative, would need only + a hint from him to give Mary-'Gusta the care and attention of a parent, a + very particular, Boston first-family parent. But, unlike his present wife, + he was not in the habit of referring to his charities, so he kept this + information to himself. + </p> + <p> + Zoeth sighed. “I declare,” he said, “you're mighty kind in all this, Mr. + Keith. I know that you're sartin this goin' away to school would do + Mary-'Gusta a sight of good. But—but I swan I—I can't hardly + bear to think of our lettin' her go away from us.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't wonder at that. Just think it over and we'll have another talk + later.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0010" id="link2HCH0010"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER X + </h2> + <p> + Mr. Keith and the Captain had that later talk—several talks, in fact—and + a week after their first one Captain Shadrach suddenly announced that he + was cal'latin' to run up to Boston just for a day on business and that + Mary-'Gusta had better go along with him for company. Zoeth could tend + store and get along all right until they returned. The girl was not so + certain of the getting along all right, but Mr. Hamilton as well as the + Captain insisted, so she consented at last. The Boston trip was not + exactly a novelty to her—she had visited the city a number of times + during the past few years—but a holiday with Uncle Shad was always + good fun. + </p> + <p> + They took the early morning train and reached Boston about ten o'clock. + Shadrach's business in the city seemed to be of a rather vague nature this + time. They called at the offices of two or three of his old friends—ship-chandlers + and marine outfitters on Commercial Street and Atlantic Avenue—and + then the Captain, looking at his watch, announced that it was pretty nigh + noontime and he cal'lated they had better be cruisin' up towards Pinckney + Street. “Got an errand up in that latitude,” he added. + </p> + <p> + Pinckney Street was on the hill in the rear of the Common and the State + House and was narrow and crooked and old-fashioned. + </p> + <p> + “What in the world are we doing up here?” queried Mary-'Gusta. “There + aren't any wholesale houses here, I'm sure. Haven't you made a mistake, + Uncle Shad?” Shadrach, who had been consulting a page of his pocket + memorandum book, replied that he cal'lated he'd got his bearin's, and, to + the girl's astonishment, stopped before a brick dwelling with a colonial + doorway and a white stone step which actually shone from scrubbing, and + rang the bell. + </p> + <p> + The maid who answered the bell wore a white apron which crackled with + starch. She looked as if she too had, like the step, been scrubbed a few + minutes before. + </p> + <p> + “This is No.—, ain't it?” inquired the Captain. “Humph! I thought + so. I ain't so much of a wreck yet but that I can navigate Boston without + a pilot. Is Mr. Keith in?” + </p> + <p> + The maid, who had received the pilot statement with uncomprehending + astonishment, looked relieved. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir,” she said. “Mr. Keith's here. Are you the ones he's expectin'? + Walk in, please.” + </p> + <p> + They entered the house. It was as spotlessly tidy within as without. The + maid ushered them into a parlor where old mahogany and old family + portraits in oil were very much in evidence. + </p> + <p> + “Sit down, please,” she said. “I'll tell Mr. Keith you're here.” + </p> + <p> + She left the room. Mary-'Gusta turned to the Captain in amazed agitation. + </p> + <p> + “Uncle Shad,” she demanded, “why on earth did you come HERE to see Mr. + Keith? Couldn't you have seen him at South Harniss?” + </p> + <p> + Shadrach shook his head. “Not today I couldn't,” he said. “He's up here + today.” + </p> + <p> + “But what do you want to see him for?” + </p> + <p> + “Business, business, Mary-'Gusta. Mr. Keith and me are tryin' to do a + little stroke of business together. We've got a hen on, as the feller + said. Say, this is kind of a swell house, ain't it? And clean—my + soul! Judas! did I move this chair out of place? I didn't mean to. Looks + as if it had set right in that one spot for a hundred years.” + </p> + <p> + Keith entered at that moment, followed by an elderly lady whose gown was + almost as old-fashioned as the furniture. She was a rather thin person but + her face, although sharp, was not unkind in expression and her plainly + arranged hair was white. Mary-'Gusta liked her looks; she guessed that she + might be very nice indeed to people she knew and fancied; also that she + would make certain of knowing them first. + </p> + <p> + “Hello, Captain Gould,” hailed Keith. “Glad to see you. Found the place + all right, I see.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes—yes, I found it, Mr. Keith.” + </p> + <p> + “I thought you wouldn't have any difficulty. Mary, how do you do?” + </p> + <p> + Mary-'Gusta and Mr. Keith shook hands. + </p> + <p> + “Captain,” said Keith, “I want to introduce you to my cousin, Mrs. Wyeth.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Wyeth bowed with dignity. + </p> + <p> + “How do you do, Captain Gould,” she said. + </p> + <p> + “Why—why, I'm pretty smart, thank you, ma'am,” stammered Shadrach, + rather embarrassed at all this ceremony. “Pleased to meet you, ma'am.” + </p> + <p> + “And this young lady,” went on Keith, “is Miss Mary Lathrop. Miss Lathrop, + this lady is Mrs. Wyeth, my cousin.” + </p> + <p> + Mary-'Gusta, with the uneasy feeling that Mrs. Wyeth's gaze had been fixed + upon her since she entered the room, bowed but said nothing. + </p> + <p> + “And now,” said Mr. Keith, heartily, “we'll have luncheon. You're just in + time and Mrs. Wyeth has been expecting you.” + </p> + <p> + The Captain's embarrassment reached its height at this invitation. + </p> + <p> + “No, no,” he stammered, “we—we can't do that. Couldn't think of it, + you know. We—we ain't a mite hungry. Had breakfast afore we left + home, didn't we, Mary-'Gusta?” + </p> + <p> + Keith laughed. “Yes, I know,” he said; “and you left home about half-past + five. I've taken that early train myself. If you're not hungry you ought + to be and luncheon is ready. Emily—Mrs. Wyeth—has been + expecting you. She will be disappointed if you refuse.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Wyeth herself put in a word here. “Of course they won't refuse, + John,” she said with decision. “They must be famished. Refuse! The idea! + Captain Gould, Mr. Keith will look out for you; your niece will come with + me. Luncheon will be ready in five minutes. Come, Mary. That's your name—Mary—isn't + it? I'm glad to hear it. It's plain and it's sensible and I like it. The + employment bureau sent me a maid a week ago and when she told me her name + I sent her back again. It was Florina. That was enough. Mercy! All I could + think of was a breakfast food. Come, Mary. Now, John, do be prompt.” + </p> + <p> + That luncheon took its place in Mary-'Gusta's memory beside that of her + first supper in the house at South Harniss. They were both memorable + meals, although alike in no other respects. Mrs. Wyeth presided, of + course, and she asked the blessing and poured the tea with dignity and + businesslike dispatch. The cups and saucers were of thin, transparent + China, with pictures of mandarins and pagodas upon them. They looked + old-fashioned and they were; Mrs. Wyeth's grandfather had bought them + himself in Hongkong in the days when he commanded a clipper ship and made + voyages to the Far East. The teaspoons were queer little fiddle-patterned + affairs; they were made by an ancestor who was a silversmith with a shop + on Cornhill before General Gage's army was quartered in Boston. And cups + and spoons and napkins were so clean that it seemed almost sacrilegious to + soil them by use. + </p> + <p> + Captain Shadrach did not soil his to any great extent at first. The + Captain was plainly overawed by the genteel elegance of his surrounding + and the manner of his hostess. But Mr. Keith was very much at ease and + full of fun and, after a time, a little of Shadrach's self-consciousness + disappeared. When he learned that grandfather Wyeth had been a seafaring + man he came out of his shell sufficiently to narrate, at Keith's request, + one of his own experiences in Hongkong, but even in the midst of his yarn + he never forgot to address his hostess as “ma'am” and he did not say + “Jumpin Judas” once. + </p> + <p> + After luncheon Mr. Keith and the Captain left the house together. “Goin' + to attend to that little mite of business I spoke to you about, + Mary-'Gusta,” explained Shadrach, confidentially. “We'll be back pretty + soon. I cal'late maybe you'd better wait here, that is,” with a glance at + Mrs. Wyeth, “if it'll be all right for you to.” + </p> + <p> + “Of course it will be all right,” declared Mrs. Wyeth promptly. “I shall + be glad to have her.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, ma'am. If she won't be in the way I—” + </p> + <p> + “If she were likely to be in the way I should say so. She won't be.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes—er—yes, ma'am,” stammered Shadrach. “Thank you, ma'am.” + </p> + <p> + When he and Mr. Keith were out of the house he drew a long breath. + </p> + <p> + “Judas!” he observed, feelingly. “Say, that cousin of yours don't waste + any words, does she? When it comes to speakin' what's in her mind she + don't fool around none. She's as right up and down as a schooner's + fo'mast.” + </p> + <p> + Keith laughed heartily. “Emily is blunt and outspoken,” he said. “She + prides herself on that. But she is as square as a brick. She never says + one thing to your face and another behind your back.” + </p> + <p> + “No, I—I judge that's so. Well, that's all right; I ain't got any + objections to that way of talkin' myself. But say, if every woman was like + her there wouldn't be many sewin' circles, would there? The average sewin' + circle meetin' is one part sew and three parts what So-and-so said.” + </p> + <p> + When the little mite of business had been transacted and the pair returned + to the Wyeth house they found Mrs. Wyeth and Mary-'Gusta awaiting them in + the parlor. The girl had the feeling that she had been undergoing a rather + vigorous cross-examination. Mrs. Wyeth had not talked a great deal herself + and her manner, though brusque and matter of fact, was kind; but she had + asked questions about Mary-'Gusta's home life, about Captain Gould and Mr. + Hamilton, about school and friends and acquaintances. And her comments, + when she made any, were direct and to the point. + </p> + <p> + She and Mr. Keith exchanged looks when the latter entered the room. Keith + raised his eyebrows inquiringly. She nodded as if giving emphatic assent + to his unspoken question. + </p> + <p> + Shadrach and Mary-'Gusta left the house soon afterward. While the Captain + and Mr. Keith were whispering together in the hall, Mrs. Wyeth bade the + girl good-by. + </p> + <p> + “I like you, my dear,” said the lady. “You seem to be a sweet, sensible + girl, and I don't meet as many of that kind nowadays as I could wish. I am + sure we shall be good friends.” + </p> + <p> + “And WHAT did she mean by that?” demanded Mary-'Gusta, as she and the + Captain walked along Pinckney Street together. “Why should we be good + friends? Probably I'll never meet her again.” + </p> + <p> + Shadrach smiled. “Oh, you can't always tell,” he said. “Sometimes you meet + folks oftener'n you think in this world.” + </p> + <p> + Mary-'Gusta looked at him. “Uncle Shad,” she said, “what does all this + mean, anyway? Why did you go to her house? And what was the mysterious + business of yours with Mr. Keith?” + </p> + <p> + The Captain shook his head. “We've got a hen on, same as I told you,” he + declared. “When it's time for the critter to come off the nest you'll see + what's been hatched same as the rest of us. How'd you like that Mrs. + Wyeth? Had a pretty sharp edge on her tongue, didn't she?” + </p> + <p> + Mary-'Gusta considered. “Yes,” she answered; “she was outspoken and blunt, + of course. But she is a lady—a real lady, I think—and I'm sure + I should like her very much when I knew her better. I think, though, that + she would expect a person to behave—behave in her way, I mean.” + </p> + <p> + “Judas! I should say so. Don't talk! I ain't felt so much as if I was + keepin' my toes on a chalk mark since I went to school. I don't know what + her husband died of, but I'll bet 'twasn't curvature of the spine. If he + didn't stand up straight 'twasn't his wife's fault.” + </p> + <p> + Mary-'Gusta's curiosity concerning the mysterious business which had + brought them to the city became greater than ever before it was time to + take the train for home. Apparently all of that business, whatever it + might be, had been transacted when her uncle and Mr. Keith took their + short walk together after luncheon. Captain Shadrach seemed to consider + his Boston errand done and the pair spent half of the hour before train + time wandering along Tremont and Washington Streets looking into shop + windows, and the other half in the waiting room of the South Station. + </p> + <p> + Great and growing as was her curiosity, the girl asked no more questions. + She was determined not to ask them. And the Captain, neither while in the + city nor during the homeward journey, referred to the “hen” in which he + and his friend from Chicago were mutually interested. It was not until + nine o'clock that evening, when supper was over and Zoeth, having locked + up the store, was with them in the sitting-room, that the hitherto + secretive fowl came off the nest. + </p> + <p> + Then Shadrach, having given his partner a look and received one in return, + cleared his throat and spoke. + </p> + <p> + “Mary-'Gusta,” he said, “me and your Uncle Zoeth have got some news for + you. I cal'late you've been wonderin' a little mite what that business of + Mr. Keith's and mine was, ain't you?” + </p> + <p> + Mary-'Gusta smiled. “I have wondered—just a little,” she observed, + with mild sarcasm. + </p> + <p> + “Yes—yes, I ain't surprised. Well, the business is done and it's + settled, and it's about you.” + </p> + <p> + “About me? Why, Uncle Shad! How can it be about me?” + </p> + <p> + “'Cause it can and it is, that's why. Mary-'Gusta, me and Zoeth have been + thinkin' about you a good deal lately and we've come to the conclusion + that we ain't treated you just right.” + </p> + <p> + “Haven't treated me right? YOU?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, us. You're a good girl and a smart girl—the smartest and best + girl there is in this town. A girl like that ought to do somethin' + better'n than stay here in South Harniss and keep store. Keepin' store's + all right for old hulks like Zoeth Hamilton and Shad Gould, but you ain't + an old hulk; you're a young craft right off the ways and you ought to have + a chance to cruise in the best water there is.” + </p> + <p> + “Uncle Shad, what are you talking about? Cruise in the best water?” + </p> + <p> + “That's what I said. You ought to mix with the best folks and get a fine + education and meet somebody besides drummers and—and Sol Higgins's + son. Selling coffins may be a good job, I don't say 'tain't; somebody's + got to do it and we'll all have to invest in that kind of—er—furniture + sometime or 'nother. And Dan Higgins is a good enough boy, too. But he + ain't your kind.” + </p> + <p> + “My kind! Uncle Shad, what in the world have I got to do with Dan Higgins + and coffins—and all the rest of it?” + </p> + <p> + “Nothin', nothin' at all. That's what I'm tryin' to tell you if you'll + give me a chance. Mary-'Gusta, your Uncle Zoeth and I have decided that + you must go to school up to Boston, at the Misses Cabot's school there. + You'll board along with that Mrs. Wyeth, the one we met today. She's a + good woman, I cal'late, though she is so everlastin' straight up and down. + You'll board there and you'll go to school to those Cabot women. And—” + </p> + <p> + But Mary-'Gusta interrupted. The hen was off the nest now, there was no + doubt of that, and of all unexpected and impossible hatchings hers was the + most complete. The absurdity of the idea, to the girl's mind, overshadowed + even the surprise of it. + </p> + <p> + “What?” she said. “Uncle Shad, what—? Do you mean that you and Uncle + Zoeth have been in conspiracy to send me away to school? To send me away + to Boston?” + </p> + <p> + Shadrach nodded. + </p> + <p> + “No conspiracy about it,” he declared. “Me and Zoeth and Mr. Keith, we—” + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Keith? Yes, yes, I see. It was Mr. Keith who put the idea in your + head. How perfectly silly!” + </p> + <p> + “Silly? Why is it silly?” + </p> + <p> + “Because it is. It's ridiculous.” + </p> + <p> + “No, it ain't, it's common sense. Other girls go to city finishin' + schools, don't they? That Irene Mullet's just gone, for one. Don't you + think we figger to do as much for our girl as Becky Mullet can do for + hers? Jumpin' fire! If you ain't worth a hogshead of girls like Irene + Mullet then I miss my guess.” + </p> + <p> + “Hush, Uncle Shad; what difference does that make?” + </p> + <p> + And now Zoeth put in a word. “Mary-'Gusta,” he said, “you know what a good + school like the one Shad's been speakin' of can do for a girl. I know you + know it. Now, be right down honest; wouldn't you like to have a couple of + years, say, at a school like that, if you could have 'em just as well as + not? Didn't you say not more'n a fortni't ago that you was glad Irene + Mullet was goin' to have such a chance to improve herself?” + </p> + <p> + Mary-'Gusta had said that very thing; she could not truthfully deny it. + </p> + <p> + “Of course I did,” she answered. “And I am glad. But Irene's case and mine + are different. Irene isn't needed at home. I am, and—” + </p> + <p> + Shadrach broke in. “Ah, ha! Ah, ha! Zoeth,” he crowed, triumphantly. + “Didn't I tell you she'd say that? I knew she'd say she wouldn't go 'cause + she'd think she'd ought to stay here and look out for us. Well, + Mary-'Gusta, you listen to me. Zoeth and I are your guardians, lawfully + appointed. We're your bosses, young lady, for a spell yet. And you're + goin' to do as we say.” + </p> + <p> + “But—” + </p> + <p> + “There ain't any 'buts.' The 'buts' are all past and gone. Mr. Keith has + arranged for you to board and room along with Mrs. Wyeth and I've arranged + for your schoolin' at the Cabot place. Yes, and I've done more'n that: I + paid for your first year's schoolin' this very afternoon. So there! THAT'S + ended.” + </p> + <p> + It was not ended, of course. Mary-'Gusta went to her room that night + declaring she would not leave her uncles to attend any finishing school. + They went to theirs vowing that she should. The real end came the next day + when Zoeth put the subject before her in a new light by saying: + </p> + <p> + “Look here, Mary-'Gusta; just listen to me a minute and think. Suppose the + boot was on t'other foot: suppose you wanted us to do somethin' to please + you, you'd expect us to do it, wouldn't you? Anyhow, you know mighty well + we WOULD do it. Now we want you to do this to please us. We've set our + hearts on it.” + </p> + <p> + Mary-'Gusta was silent for a minute or more. The partners watched her + anxiously. Then she asked an unusual question, one concerning her own + financial status. + </p> + <p> + “Can I afford it?” she asked. “Have I money enough of my own?” + </p> + <p> + Zoeth looked troubled. Shadrach, however, answered promptly and + diplomatically. + </p> + <p> + “Haven't I told you,” he said, “that Zoeth and me are your guardians? And + didn't I say we'd gone into the thing careful and deliberate? And didn't I + pay your first year's schoolin' yesterday? Don't that alone show what we + think about the money. Be still, Zoeth; that's enough. Well, Mary-'Gusta?” + </p> + <p> + Mary-'Gusta considered a moment longer. Then she rose and, crossing the + room, gave them each a kiss. + </p> + <p> + “I'll go,” she said, simply. “I'll go because I think you mean it and that + it will please you. For that reason and no other I'll go.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0011" id="link2HCH0011"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XI + </h2> + <p> + The Misses Cabot's school was to open on the fifteenth of September and, + on the morning of the fourteenth, Mary-'Gusta bade her guardians good-by + on the platform of the South Harniss railway station. Shadrach had + intended going to Boston with her, but she had firmly insisted on going + alone. + </p> + <p> + “I must get used to being away from you both,” she said, “and you must get + used to having me go. It will be best for all of us to say good-by here. + It won't be for VERY long; I'll be home at Christmas, you know.” + </p> + <p> + The three weeks prior to the fateful fourteenth had been crowded with + activities. Twice the girl and Captain Shadrach had journeyed to Boston, + where in company with Mrs. Wyeth, whose services had been volunteered in a + crisp but kindly note, they visited shops and selected and purchased—that + is, the feminine members of the party selected and the Captain paid for—a + suit and waists and hats and other things which it appeared were necessary + for the wardrobe of a young lady at finishing school. Shadrach would have + bought lavishly, but Mrs. Wyeth's common sense guided the selections and + Mary-'Gusta was very particular as to price. Shadrach, at the beginning, + made a few suggestions concerning colors and styles, but the suggestions + were disregarded. The Captain's taste in colors was not limited; he + fancied almost any hue, provided it was bright enough. His ward would have + looked like an animated crazy quilt if he had had his way. + </p> + <p> + He grumbled a little as they journeyed back to South Harniss. + </p> + <p> + “She may be all right, that Wyeth woman,” he said, “but she's too + everlastin' sober-sided to suit me. Take that hat you and she bought; why, + 'twas as plain, and hadn't no more fuss and feathers than a minister's + wife's bonnet. You ain't an old maid; no, nor a Boston first-family widow, + neither. Now, the hat I liked—the yellow and blue one—had some + get-up-and-git. If you wore that out on Tremont Street folks would turn + around and look at you.” + </p> + <p> + Mary-'Gusta laughed and squeezed his hand. “You silly Uncle Shad,” she + said, “don't you know that is exactly what I don't want them to do?” + </p> + <p> + Shadrach turned his gaze in her direction. She was at the end of the car + seat next to the window and against the light of the setting sun her face + and head were silhouetted in dainty profile. The Captain sighed. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” he said, philosophically, “I don't know's we need to argue. I + cal'late they'll look some as 'tis.” + </p> + <p> + Her parting instructions to her uncles were many and diversified. Zoeth + must be sure and change to his heavy flannels on the first of October. He + must not forget rubbers when the ground was damp, and an umbrella when it + rained. If he caught cold there was the medicine Doctor Harley had + prescribed. He must not sit up after ten o'clock; he must not try to read + the paper without first hunting for his spectacles. These were a few of + his orders. Shadrach's list was even longer. It included going to church + every other Sunday: keeping his Sunday shoes blacked: not forgetting to + change his collar every morning: to get his hair cut at least once in six + weeks: not to eat pie just before going to bed, “because you know if you + do, you always have the nightmare and groan and moan and wake up everyone + but yourself”: not to say “Jumpin'” or “Creepin' Judas” any oftener than + he could help: to be sure and not cut prices in the store just because a + customer asked him to do so—and goodness knows how much more. + </p> + <p> + As for Isaiah Chase, his list was so lengthy and varied that the + responsibility quite overwhelmed him. + </p> + <p> + “Gosh t'mighty!” exclaimed Isaiah, desperately. “I'll never be able to + live up to all them sailin' orders and I know it. I've put some of 'em + down on a piece of paper, but I ain't even got them straight, and as for + the million or two others—whew! I'm to dust every day, and sweep + every other day, and change the tablecloth, and see that the washin' goes + when it ought to, and feed the horse the cat—no, no, feed the cat + oats—Oh, consarn it! Feed the cat and the horse and the hens their + reg'lar vittles at reg'lar times and—and—Oh, my soul! Yes, and + let alone my own self and all that's laid onto me, I must keep an eye on + Captain Shad and Zoeth and see that they do what's been laid onto THEM. I + swan to man! I'm a hard-workin', painstakin' feller of my age, but I ain't + as young as I used to be, and I'm human and not a walkin' steam-engyne. + I'll do the best I can, but—but first thing you know I'll be drove + into heavin' up my job. THEN this craft'll be on its beam ends, I bet you! + They'll appreciate me then, when it's too late.” + </p> + <p> + The farewells at the railway station were brief. They were very hard to + say and neither the partners nor Mary-'Gusta could trust themselves to + talk more than was necessary. The train drew up beside the platform; then + it moved on. A hand waved from the car window; Shadrach and Zoeth waved in + return. The rear car disappeared around the curve by Solomon Higgins' + cranberry shanty. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Hamilton sighed heavily. + </p> + <p> + “She's gone, Shadrach,” he said. “Mary-'Gusta's gone.” + </p> + <p> + Shadrach echoed the sigh. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, she's gone,” he agreed. “I feel as if the best part of you and me + had gone along with her. Well, t'other parts have got to go back to the + store and wait on customers, I presume likely. Heave ahead and let's do + it. Ah, hum! I cal'late we'd ought to be thankful we've got work to do, + Zoeth. It'll help take up our minds. There are goin' to be lonesome days + for you and me, shipmate.” + </p> + <p> + There were lonely days for Mary-'Gusta also, those of that first month at + Mrs. Wyeth's and at the Misses Cabot's school. For the first time in her + life she realized what it meant to be homesick. But in the letters which + she wrote to her uncles not a trace of the homesickness was permitted to + show and little by little its keenest pangs wore away. She, too, was + thankful for work, for the study which kept her from thinking of other + things. + </p> + <p> + The Misses Cabot—their Christian names were Priscilla and Hortense—she + found to be middle-aged maiden ladies, eminently prim and proper, and the + educational establishment over which they presided a sort of Protestant + nunnery ruled according to the precepts of the Congregational Church and + the New England aristocracy. Miss Priscilla was tall and thin and her + favorite author was Emerson; she quoted Emerson extensively and was + certain that real literature died when he did. Miss Hortense was younger, + plumper, and more romantic. She quoted Longfellow and occasionally Oliver + Wendell Holmes, although she admitted she considered the latter rather too + frivolous at times. Both sisters were learned, dignified, and strict + disciplinarians. Also, in the eyes of both a male person younger than + forty-five was labeled “Danger—Keep Away.” But one creature of the + masculine gender taught in their school; he was white-haired Doctor + Barnes, professor of the dead languages. It was the prevailing opinion + among the scholars that Doctor Barnes, when at home, occupied an apartment + in the Greek Antiquity section of the Art Museum, where he slept and ate + surrounded by the statues and busts of his contemporaries. + </p> + <p> + As for the scholars themselves, there were about forty of them, girls—or + young ladies: the Misses Cabot invariably referred to and addressed them + as “young ladies”—from Boston and New York and Philadelphia, even + from Chicago and as far south as Baltimore. Almost all were the daughters + of well-to-do parents, almost all had their homes in cities. There were + very few who, like Mary-'Gusta, had lived all their lives in the country. + Some were pretty, some were not; some were giddy and giggly, some solemn + and studious, some either according to mood; some were inclined to be + snobbish, others simple and “everyday.” In short, the school was like + almost any school of its kind. + </p> + <p> + Mary-'Gusta entered this school and, doing so, ceased to be Mary-'Gusta, + becoming Miss Lathrop to her instructors and Mary to her intimates among + the scholars. And at Mrs. Wyeth's she was Mary or Miss Lathrop or Miss + Mary, according to the age, length of acquaintance, or station of the + person addressing her. But she always thought of herself as Mary-'Gusta + and her letters written to Uncle Shad or Uncle Zoeth were so signed. + </p> + <p> + She found, after the hard work of beginning, that she could keep abreast + of her class in studies without undue exertion. Also she found that, the + snobs excepted, the girls at the Misses Cabot's school were inclined to be + sociable and friendly. She made no bid for their friendship, being a + self-respecting young person whose dislike of imitation was as strong as + ever, but, perhaps because she did not bid or imitate but continued to be + simply and sincerely herself, friends came to her. Most of these friends + received monthly allowances far greater than hers, and most of them wore + more expensive gowns and in greater variety, but she showed no envy nor + offered apologies, and if she sometimes wished, being human, that her + wardrobe was a trifle more extensive she kept that wish to herself. + </p> + <p> + Her liking for Mrs. Wyeth grew into a real affection. And the prim and + practical matron grew more and more fond of her. The girl came to be + considered, and almost to consider herself, one of the family. The + “family” consisted of Mrs. Wyeth, Mary, Miss Pease, the other “paying + guest,” and Maggie, the maid, and Nora, the cook. Miss Pease was an + elderly spinster without near relatives, possessed of an income and a love + of travel which she gratified by occasional European trips. She and her + closest friend, Mrs. Wyeth, disagreed on many subjects, but they united in + the belief that Boston was a suburb of Paradise and that William Ellery + Channing was the greatest of religious leaders. They at-tended the + Arlington Street Unitarian Church, and Mary often accompanied them there + for Sunday morning or afternoon service. + </p> + <p> + The conviction of the Misses Cabot that youthful manhood was dangerous and + to be shunned like the plague Mary soon discovered was not shared by the + majority of the young ladies. If Miss Priscilla and Miss Hortense had had + their way Harvard University and the Institute of Technology would have + been moved forthwith to some remote spot like the North Pole or San + Francisco. There were altogether too many “cousins” or “sons of old family + friends” calling at the school to deliver messages from parents or + guardians or the said friends. These messengers, young gentlemen with + budding mustaches and full-blown raiment, were rigidly inspected and their + visits carefully chaperoned: but letters came and were treasured and the + cheerful inanity of their contents imparted, in strict secrecy, to bosom + friends of the recipients. + </p> + <p> + Mary received no such letters. No cousins or family friends called to + deliver messages to her. No photographs of young fellows in lettered + sweaters were hidden among her belongings. Her friends in the school + thought this state of affairs very odd and they sometimes asked pointed + questions. + </p> + <p> + Miss Barbara Howe, whose home was in Brookline and whose father was the + senior partner of an old and well-known firm of downtown merchants, was + the leading questioner. She liked Mary and the latter liked her. Barbara + was pretty and full of spirits and, although she was the only child, and a + rather spoiled one, in a wealthy family, there was no snobbishness in her + make-up. + </p> + <p> + “But I can't see,” she declared, “what you have been doing all the time. + Where have you been keeping yourself? Don't you know ANYBODY?” + </p> + <p> + Mary smiled. “Oh, yes,” she replied, “I know a good many people.” + </p> + <p> + “You know what I mean. Don't you know any of the fellows at Harvard, or + Tech, or Yale, or anywhere? I know dozens. And you must know some. You + know Sam Keith; you said you did.” + </p> + <p> + Mary admitted that she knew Sam slightly. + </p> + <p> + “Isn't he fun! Sam and I are great chums. Doesn't he dance divinely!” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know. I never saw him dance.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you've missed something. Do you know his friend, the one on the + football team—Crawford Smith, his name is—do you know him?” + </p> + <p> + Mary nodded. “I—I've met him,” she said. + </p> + <p> + “You HAVE? Don't you think he is perfectly splendid?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know. Is he?” + </p> + <p> + “Of course he is. Haven't you read about him in the papers? He made that + long run for a touchdown in the Yale game. Oh, you should have seen it! I + couldn't speak for two days after that game. He was just as cool and calm. + All the Yale men were trying to get him and he dodged—I never saw + anyone so cool and who kept his head so well.” + </p> + <p> + “I thought the papers spoke most of the way he kept his feet.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you did read about it! Of course you did! I'm just dying to know + him. All the girls are crazy about him. Where did you meet him? Tell me!” + </p> + <p> + Mary smiled. On the occasion of her only meeting with Crawford Smith that + young fellow had been anything but cool. + </p> + <p> + “I met him in my uncle's store at South Harniss,” she said. “It was three + years ago.” + </p> + <p> + “And you haven't seen him since? He is a great friend of Sam's. And Sam's + people have a summer home at the Cape. Perhaps you'll meet him there + again.” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps.” + </p> + <p> + “Goodness! One would think you didn't want to.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, I don't know that I do, particularly. Why should I?” + </p> + <p> + “Why should you! Mary Lathrop, I do think you are the queerest girl. You + don't talk like a girl at all. Sometimes I think you are as old as—as + Prissy.” “Prissy” was the disrespectful nickname by which the young ladies + referred, behind her back, to Miss Priscilla Cabot. + </p> + <p> + Mary laughed. “Not quite, I hope,” she said. “But I don't see why I should + be so very anxious to meet Crawford Smith. And I'm sure he isn't anxious + to meet me. If all the other girls are crazy about him, that ought to be + enough, I should think.” + </p> + <p> + This astonishing profession of indifference to the fascination of the + football hero, indifference which Miss Barbara declared to be only + make-believe, was made on a Saturday. The next day, as Mrs. Wyeth and Mary + were on their way home from church, the former made an announcement. + </p> + <p> + “We are to have a guest, perhaps guests, at dinner this noon,” she said. + Sunday dinner at Mrs. Wyeth's was served, according to New England custom, + at one o'clock. + </p> + <p> + “Samuel, Mr. John Keith's son, is to dine with us,” continued Mrs. Wyeth. + “He may bring a college friend with him. You have met Samuel, haven't you, + Mary?” + </p> + <p> + Mary said that she had. She was a trifle embarrassed at the prospect of + meeting Sam Keith in her new surroundings. At home, in South Harniss, they + had met many times, but always at the store. He was pleasant and jolly and + she liked him well enough, although she had refused his invitations to go + on sailing parties and the like. She knew perfectly well that his mother + and sister would not have approved of these invitations, for in the + feminine Keith mind there was a great gulf fixed between the summer + resident and the native. The latter was to be helped and improved but not + encouraged socially beyond a certain point. Mary sought neither help nor + improvement of that kind. Sam, it is true, had never condescended or + patronized, but he had never called at her home nor had she been asked to + visit his. + </p> + <p> + And now she was to meet him in a house where she was considered one of the + family. His father had been influential in bringing her there. Did Sam + know this and, if he did, what influence would the knowledge have upon his + manner toward her? Would he be lofty and condescending or, on the other + hand, would he pretend a familiar acquaintanceship which did not exist? + Alone in her room she considered these questions and then put them from + her mind. Whatever his manner might be, hers, she determined, should be + what it had always been. And if any embarrassment was evident to others at + this meeting it should not be on her part. + </p> + <p> + When she came downstairs, Mrs. Wyeth called to her to come into the + parlor. As she entered the room two young men rose from the chairs beside + the mahogany center table. One of these young men was Sam Keith; she had + expected to see Sam, of course. But the other—the other was the very + individual in whose daring deeds and glorified personality she had + expressed a complete lack of interest only the day before, the young + fellow whom she had last seen racing madly across the fields in the rear + of Hamilton and Company's store with the larger portion of a sheet of + sticky fly paper attached to his white flannels. Mr. Crawford Smith was + taller and broader than on that memorable occasion but she recognized him + instantly. + </p> + <p> + It was evident that he did not recognize her. Mrs. Wyeth came to meet her. + </p> + <p> + “Mary,” she said, “you know Samuel, I think. You and he have met before. + Samuel, will you introduce your friend?” + </p> + <p> + Sam was staring at Mary with eyes which expressed a variety of emotions, + intense surprise the most prominent. He was in a state which Barbara Howe + would have described as “fussed,” one most unusual for him. He had known + of Mary's presence in the house; after the affair was settled John Keith + told his family what he had done, facing with serene philosophy his wife's + displeasure and prophecies of certain regrets. Sam had vivid and pleasing + recollections of the pretty country girl in the South Harniss store. He + had not told his college friend that they were to meet her that day, one + reason being that he was not certain they would meet, and the other a + secret misgiving that it might be well to wait and inspect and listen + before boasting of previous acquaintanceship. Sam's mother had lectured + him on the subject before he left home. “Don't be too familiar, Sam,” was + her warning. “You may be sorry if you do. The girl is well enough here in + South Harniss, where she is accustomed to her surroundings, but in Boston + she may be quite out of place and impossible. I have told your father so, + but he won't listen, of course. Don't YOU be foolish, for my sake.” + </p> + <p> + But here was no green country girl. The self-possessed young woman who + stood before him looked no more out of place and impossible in Mrs. + Wyeth's dignified and aristocratic parlor than she had in the store where + he had last seen her. Her gown was simple and inexpensive but it was + stylish and becoming. And her manner—well, her manner was distinctly + more at ease than his at that moment. Mary had been but eight weeks among + the Misses Cabot's young ladies, but she had used her eyes and her brain + during that time; she was adaptable and had learned other things than + those in the curriculum. Also, she was prepared for this meeting and had + made up her mind to show no embarrassment. + </p> + <p> + So the usually blase Samuel was the embarrassed party. He looked and + stammered. Mrs. Wyeth was surprised and shocked. + </p> + <p> + “Samuel,” she said sharply, “what is the matter with you? Why don't you + speak and not stand there staring?” + </p> + <p> + Sam, with an effort, recovered some of his self-possession. + </p> + <p> + “Was I staring?” he said. “I beg your pardon, Cousin Emily. Er—How + do you do, Miss Lathrop?” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Wyeth sniffed. + </p> + <p> + “Mercy!” she exclaimed. “Is your acquaintance as formal as that? I thought + you knew each other. The boys and girls of this generation are beyond me. + 'Miss Lathrop,' indeed!” + </p> + <p> + Mary smiled. “Perhaps he didn't expect to see me here, Mrs. Wyeth,” she + said. “How do you do, Sam?” + </p> + <p> + She and Sam shook hands. Mrs. Wyeth asked another question. + </p> + <p> + “Didn't you know Mary was with me, Samuel?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes, Cousin Emily, I knew. I knew she was here, of course. But—but + I didn't—by George!” with a sudden outburst of his real feelings, “I + hardly knew her, though. Really, I didn't.” + </p> + <p> + Mary laughed. “Have I grown so much older in two months?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, you haven't changed that way. I—I—” The young man, + realizing that he was getting into deep water, seized an opportunity to + scramble out. “Oh, I forgot!” he exclaimed. “Sorry, Crawford. Mary—Miss + Lathrop, I want to present my friend, Crawford Smith. He's my roommate at + college.” + </p> + <p> + Mary and Crawford shook hands. + </p> + <p> + “I have met Mr. Smith, too, before,” she said. + </p> + <p> + The young gentlemen, both of them, looked astonished. + </p> + <p> + “Have you?” cried Sam. “Oh, I say! I didn't know that. When was it?” + </p> + <p> + His friend, too, was plainly puzzled. “I hardly think so,” he said. “I + don't believe I should have forgotten it. I don't remember—” + </p> + <p> + “Don't you remember coming into my uncles' store at South Harniss with + Miss Keith, Sam's sister? You bought some”—with a mischievous + twinkle—“some marshmallows, among other things. I sold them to you.” + </p> + <p> + “You? Great Scott! Are you—why that girl's name was—what was + it?” + </p> + <p> + “It was the same as mine, Mary Augusta Lathrop. But in South Harniss they + call me Mary-'Gusta.” + </p> + <p> + “That was it! And you are Mary-'Gusta? Yes, of course you are! Well, I + ought to be ashamed, I suppose, but I didn't recognize you. I AM ashamed. + I was awfully obliged to you that day. You helped me out of a scrape.” + </p> + <p> + Sam, who had been listening with increasing curiosity, broke in. + </p> + <p> + “Say, what's all this?” he demanded. “When was this, Crawford? What + scrape? You never told me.” + </p> + <p> + “And you didn't tell me that Miss Lathrop was here. You didn't say a word + about her.” + </p> + <p> + “Eh? Didn't I? I must have forgotten to mention it. She—she IS here, + you know.” Mrs. Wyeth shook her head. + </p> + <p> + “Samuel, you're perfectly idiotic today,” she declared. “Of course she is + here; anyone with eyes can see she is. She is—ahem—visiting me + and she is attending the Misses Cabot's school. There! Now, Mr. Smith + understands, I hope. And dinner is ready. Don't any of you say another + word until we are at the table. My father used to say that lukewarm soup + was the worst sort of cold reception and I agree with him.” + </p> + <p> + During dinner Sam was tremendously curious to discover how and where his + friend and Mary had met and what the scrape might be to which Crawford had + referred. But his curiosity was unsatisfied. Mr. Smith refused to tell and + Mary only smiled and shook her head when questioned. + </p> + <p> + The young people furnished most of the conversation during the meal. The + recent football season and its triumphant ending were discussed, of + course, and the prospects of the hockey team came in for its share. Sam, + it appeared, was out for a place on the hockey squad. + </p> + <p> + “You must see some of the games, Mary,” he said. “I'll get tickets for you + and Cousin Emily. You're crazy about sports, aren't you, Cousin Emily.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Wyeth regarded him through her eyeglasses. + </p> + <p> + “I imagine,” she observed, “that that remark is intended as a joke. I saw + one football game and the spectacle of those boys trampling each other to + death before my eyes, and of you, Samuel Keith, hopping up and down + shrieking, 'Tear 'em up' and 'Smash 'em' was the nearest approach to + insanity I ever experienced. Since that time I have regarded Doctor Eliot + as President Emeritus of an asylum and NOT a university.” + </p> + <p> + Sam was hugely delighted. “That's football,” he declared. “I will admit + that no one but lunatics like Crawford here play football. Hockey, now, is + different. I play hockey.” + </p> + <p> + Crawford seemed surprised. + </p> + <p> + “Do you?” he asked, with eager interest. “No one has ever guessed it, not + even the coach. You shouldn't keep it a secret from HIM, Sam.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Pease, having been invited out that day, was not present at dinner. + After the coffee was served the irrepressible Sam proposed a walk. + </p> + <p> + “You won't care to go, Cousin Emily,” he said, “but I'm sure Mary will. It + is a fine afternoon and she needs the air. Crawford isn't much of a + walker; he can stay and keep Cousin Emily company. We won't be long.” + </p> + <p> + Before Mary could decline this disinterested invitation Mrs. Wyeth saved + her the trouble. + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, Samuel,” she said, crisply. “Your kindness is appreciated, + particularly by Mr. Smith and myself. I can see that he is delighted with + the idea. But Mary and I are going to the afternoon service at the + Arlington Street church. So you will have to excuse us.” + </p> + <p> + This should have been a squelcher, but it was not. Sam announced that he + and Crawford would go with them. “We were thinking of going to church, + weren't we, Crawford? It is just what I suggested, you remember.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Wyeth said “Humph,” and that was all. She and Mary went to their + rooms to get ready. Sam, surprised at the unexpected success of his sudden + inspiration and immensely tickled, chuckled in triumph. But his joy was + materially lessened when the quartette left the house. + </p> + <p> + “These sidewalks are too narrow for four,” declared Mrs. Wyeth. “Samuel, + you may walk with me. Mary, you and Mr. Smith must keep close at our heels + and walk fast. I never permit myself or my guests to be late at church.” + </p> + <p> + During the walk Crawford asked a number of questions. How long had his + companion been in the city? How long did she intend staying? Did she plan + returning to the school for another year? Where would she spend the + Christmas vacation? Mary said she was going home, to South Harniss, for + the holidays. + </p> + <p> + “It's a bully old place, Cape Cod,” declared Crawford. “I never had a + better time than I did on that visit at Sam's. Wish I were going there + again some day.” + </p> + <p> + “Why don't you?” asked Mary. + </p> + <p> + The young man shook his head. “Orders from home,” he said. “Father insists + on my coming home to him the moment the term closes. I made that visit to + Sam's on my own responsibility and I got fits for doing it. Dad seems to + have a prejudice against the East. He won't come here himself and he + doesn't like to have me stay any longer than is absolutely necessary. When + I wrote him I was at South Harniss he telegraphed me to come home in a + hurry. He is Eastern born himself, lived somewhere this way when he was + young, but he doesn't talk about it and has more prejudices against + Eastern ways and Eastern people than if he'd lived all his life in Carson + City. Won't even come on to see me play football. I doubt if he comes to + Commencement next spring; and I graduate, too.” + </p> + <p> + “I wonder he permitted you to go to Harvard,” said Mary. + </p> + <p> + “He had to permit it. I've always been for Harvard ever since I thought + about college. Dad was all for a Western university, but I sat back in the + stirrups and pulled for Harvard and finally he gave in. He generally gives + in if I buck hard enough. He's a bully old Dad and we're great pals, more + like brothers than father and son. The only point where we disagree is his + confounded sectional prejudice. He thinks the sun not only sets in the + West but rises there.” + </p> + <p> + The girl learned that he intended entering the Harvard Medical School in + the fall. + </p> + <p> + “I had to fight for that, too,” he said, with a laugh. “I've always wanted + to be a doctor but Dad wouldn't give in for ever so long. He is interested + in mining properties there at home and it was his idea that I should come + in with him when I finished school. But I couldn't see it. I wanted to + study medicine. Dad says there are almost as many starving doctors as + there are down-at-the-heel lawyers; if I go in with him, he says, I shall + have what is practically a sure thing and a soft snap for the rest of my + days. That doesn't suit me. I want to work; I expect to. I want to paddle + my own canoe. I may be the poorest M.D. that ever put up a sign, but I'm + going to put that sign up just the same. And if I starve I shan't ask him + or anyone else to feed me.” + </p> + <p> + He laughed again as he said it, but there was a determined ring in his + voice and a square set to his chin which Mary noticed and liked. He meant + what he said, that was evident. + </p> + <p> + “I think a doctor's profession is one of the noblest and finest in the + world,” she said. + </p> + <p> + “Do you? Good for you! So do I. It doesn't bring in the dollars as fast as + some others, but it does seem a man's job to me. The big specialists make + a lot of money too, but that isn't exactly what I mean. Some of the best + men I've met were just country doctors, working night and day in all sorts + of weather and getting paid or not, just as it happened. That old Doctor + Harley down in your town is one of that kind, I think. I saw something of + his work while I was there.” + </p> + <p> + “Did you? I shouldn't have thought you had time for that, with all the + picnics and sailing parties.” + </p> + <p> + “I did, though. I met him at Sam's. Mrs. Keith had a cold or a cough or + something. He and I got to talking and he asked me to come and see him. I + went, you bet! Went out with him on some of his drives while he made his + calls, you know. He told me a lot of things. He's a brick.” + </p> + <p> + “It's queer,” he went on, after a moment, “but I felt really at home down + there in that little place. Seemed as if I had been there before and—and—by + George, almost as if I belonged there. It was my first experience on and + around salt water, but that seemed natural, too. And the people—I + mean the people that belong there, not the summer crowd—I liked them + immensely. Those two fine old cards that kept the store—Eh, I beg + pardon; they are relatives of yours, aren't they? I forgot.” + </p> + <p> + “They are my uncles,” said Mary, simply. “I have lived with them almost + all my life. They are the best men in the world.” + </p> + <p> + “They seemed like it. I'd like to know them better. Hello! here's that + confounded church. I've enjoyed this walk ever so much. Guess I've done + all the talking, though. Hope I haven't bored you to death gassing about + my affairs.” + </p> + <p> + “No, you haven't. I enjoyed it.” + </p> + <p> + “Did you really? Yes, I guess you did or you wouldn't say so. You don't + act like a girl that pretends. By George! It's a relief to have someone to + talk to, someone that understands and appreciates what a fellow is + thinking about. Most girls want to talk football and dancing and all that. + I like football immensely and dancing too, but there is something else in + life. Even Sam—he's as good as they make but he doesn't care to + listen to anything serious—that is, not long.” + </p> + <p> + Mary considered. “I enjoyed listening,” she said, “and I was glad to hear + you liked South Harniss and my uncles.” + </p> + <p> + On the way home, after the service, it was Sam Keith who escorted Mary, + while Mrs. Wyeth walked with Mr. Smith. Sam's conversation was not + burdened with seriousness. Hockey, dances, and good times were the + subjects he dealt with. Was his companion fond of dancing? Would she + accompany him to one of the club dances some time? They were great fun. + Mrs. Wyeth could chaperon them, of course. + </p> + <p> + Mary said she was afraid she would be too busy to accept. As a matter of + fact, knowing what she did of his mother's feelings, she would have + accepted no invitations from Sam Keith even if nothing else prevented her + doing so. + </p> + <p> + “My studies take a good deal of my time,” she said. + </p> + <p> + Sam laughed. “You'll get over that,” he declared. “I studied like blue + blazes my freshman year, but after that—I should worry. Say, I'm + mighty glad I came over here today. I'm coming again. I'll be a regular + boarder.” + </p> + <p> + The young men said good-by at the Wyeth door. Mrs. Wyeth did not ask them + in, although the persistent Samuel threw out some pointed hints. + </p> + <p> + Crawford Smith and Mary shook hands. + </p> + <p> + “I've had an awfully good time,” declared the former. Then, turning to + Mrs. Wyeth, he asked: “May I call occasionally?” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Wyeth's answer was, as usual, frank and unmistakable. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” she said. “I shall be very glad to see you—occasionally.” + </p> + <p> + Crawford turned to Mary. + </p> + <p> + “May I?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + Mary scarcely knew how to reply. There was no real reason why he should + not call; she liked him so far. His frankness and earnestness of purpose + appealed to her. And yet she was not at all sure that it was wise to + continue the acquaintance. In her mind this coming to Boston to school was + a very serious matter. Her uncles had sent her there to study; they needed + her at home, but that need they had sacrificed in order that she might + study and improve. Nothing else, friendships or good times or anything, + must interfere with the purpose with which she had accepted the sacrifice. + </p> + <p> + So she hesitated. + </p> + <p> + “May I?” repeated Crawford. + </p> + <p> + “Why, I don't know. I imagine I shall be very busy most of the time.” + </p> + <p> + “That's all right. If you're busy you can send word for me to vamoose. + That will be part of the bargain. Good-by.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Wyeth's first remark, after entering, was concerning Sam's friend. + </p> + <p> + “I rather like that young person,” she said. “Samuel idolizes him, of + course, but Samuel would worship a hyena if it played football. But this + Smith boy”—in Mrs. Wyeth's mind any male under thirty was a boy—“seems + to have some common sense and a mind of his own. I don't approve of his + name nor the howling wilderness he comes from, but he can't help those + drawbacks, I suppose. However, if he is to call here we must know + something about him. I shall make inquiries.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0012" id="link2HCH0012"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XII + </h2> + <p> + The school term ended on a Saturday morning in mid-December. Mary's trunk + was packed and ready, and she and it reached the South Station long before + train time. She was going home, home for the holidays, and if she had been + going on a trip around the world she could not have been more delighted at + the prospect. And her delight and anticipations were shared in South + Harniss. Her uncles' letters for the past fortnight had contained little + except joyful announcements of preparations for her coming. + </p> + <p> + We are counting the minutes [wrote Zoeth]. The first thing Shadrach does + every morning is to scratch another day off the calendar. I never saw him + so worked up and excited and I calculate I ain't much different myself. I + try not to set my heart on things of this world more than I ought to, but + it does seem as if I couldn't think of much else but our girl's coming + back to us. I am not going to worry the way Shadrach does about your + getting here safe and sound. The Lord's been mighty good to us and I am + sure He will fetch you to our door all right. I am contented to trust you + in His hands. + </p> + <p> + P.S. One or both of us will meet you at the depot. + </p> + <p> + Captain Shad's epistle was more worldly but not more coherent. + </p> + <p> + Be sure and take the train that comes right on through [he wrote]. Don't + take the one that goes to Woods Hole. Zoeth is so fidgety and nervous for + fear you will make a mistake that he keeps me on pins and needles. Isaiah + ain't much better. He swept out the setting-room twice last week and if he + don't roast the cat instead of the chicken he is calculating to kill, it + will be a mercy. I am the only one aboard the ship that keeps his head and + I tell them not to worry. Be sure you take that through train. And look + out for them electric cars, if you come to the depot in one. Better settle + on the one you are going to take and then take the one ahead of it so as + to be sure and not be late. Your train leaves the dock at quarter-past + four. The Woods Hole one is two minutes earlier. Look out and not take + that. Zoeth is afraid you will make a mistake, but I laugh at him. Don't + take the wrong train. + </p> + <p> + Mary laughed when she read these letters, but there was a choke in the + laugh. In spite of the perils of travel by the electrics and the New Haven + railroad, she reached South Harniss safe, sound, and reasonably on time. + The first person she saw on the platform of the station was Captain + Shadrach. He had been pacing that platform for at least forty minutes. + </p> + <p> + He spied her at the same time and came rushing to greet her, both hands + outstretched. + </p> + <p> + “And here you be!” he exclaimed with enthusiasm. + </p> + <p> + Mary laughed happily. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Uncle Shad, here I am,” she said. “Are you glad to see me?” + </p> + <p> + Shadrach looked at her. + </p> + <p> + “JUMPIN'!” was the only answer he made, but it was fervent and sufficient. + </p> + <p> + They rode home together in the old buggy. As they reached the corner by + the store Mary expected the vehicle to be brought to a halt at the curb, + but it was not. The Captain chirruped to the horse and drove straight on. + </p> + <p> + “Why, Uncle Shad!” exclaimed the girl. “Aren't you going to stop?” + </p> + <p> + “Eh? Stop? What for?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, to see Uncle Zoeth, of course. He's at the store, isn't he?” + </p> + <p> + Shadrach shook his head. + </p> + <p> + “No, he ain't,” he said. “He's to home.” + </p> + <p> + Mary was amazed and a trifle alarmed. One partner of Hamilton and Company + was there in the buggy with her. By all the rules of precedent and South + Harniss business the other should have been at the store. She knew that + her uncles had employed no clerk or assistant since she left. + </p> + <p> + “But—but is Uncle Zoeth sick?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “Sick? No, no, course he ain't sick. If he didn't have no better sense + than to get sick the day you come home I'd—I'd—I don't know's + I wouldn't drown him. HE ain't sick—unless,” he added, as an + afterthought, “he's got Saint Vitus dance from hoppin' up and down to look + out of the window, watchin' for us.” + </p> + <p> + “But if he isn't sick, why isn't he at the store? Who is there?” + </p> + <p> + The Captain chuckled. + </p> + <p> + “Not a solitary soul,” he declared. “That store's shut up tight and it's + goin' to stay that way this whole blessed evenin'. Zoeth and me we talked + it over. I didn't know but we'd better get Abel Snow's boy or that pesky + Annabel or somebody to stay while we was havin' supper. You see, we was + both sot on eatin' supper with you tonight, no matter store or not, and + Isaiah, he was just as sot as we was. But all to once Zoeth had an idea. + 'Shadrach,' he says, 'in Scriptur' times when people was real happy, same + as we are now, they used to make a sacrifice to the Almighty to show how + glad and grateful they was. Let's you and me make a sacrifice; let's + sacrifice this evenin's trade—let's shut up the store on account of + our girl's comin' home.' 'Good idea!' says I, so we did it.” + </p> + <p> + Mary looked at him reproachfully. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Uncle Shad,” she said, “you shouldn't have done that. It was dear and + sweet of you to think of it, but you shouldn't have done it. It didn't + need any sacrifice to prove that you were glad to see me.” + </p> + <p> + Shadrach winked over his shoulder. + </p> + <p> + “Don't let that sacrifice worry you any,” he observed. “The sacrifice is + mainly in Zoeth's eye. Fur's I'm concerned—well, Jabez Hedges told + me yesterday that Rastus Young told him he cal'lated he'd have to be + droppin' in at the store some of these nights to buy some rubber boots and + new ileskins. We sold him the ones he's got four years ago and he ain't + paid for 'em yet. No, no, Mary-'Gusta, don't you worry about that + sacrifice. I can sacrifice Rastus Young's trade eight days in the week and + make money by it. Course I didn't tell Zoeth that; have to humor these + pious folks much as we can, you know.” + </p> + <p> + Mary smiled, but she shook her head. “It's no use your talking to me in + that way, Uncle Shad,” she said. “I know you too well. And right in the + Christmas season, too!” + </p> + <p> + Zoeth's welcome was as hearty, if not as exuberant, as Captain Shad's. He + met her at the door and after the first hug and kiss held her off at arm's + length and looked her over. + </p> + <p> + “My! my! my!” he exclaimed. “And this is our little Mary-'Gusta come back + again! It don't seem as if it could be, somehow.” + </p> + <p> + “But it is, Uncle Zoeth,” declared Mary, laughing. “And ISN'T it good to + be here! Well, Isaiah,” turning to Mr. Chase, who, aproned and + shirtsleeved as usual, had been standing grinning in the background, + “haven't you anything to say to me?” + </p> + <p> + Isaiah had something to say and he said it. + </p> + <p> + “Glad to see you,” he announced. “Feelin' pretty smart? Got a new hat, + ain't you? Supper's ready.” + </p> + <p> + During the meal Mary was kept busy answering questions concerning school + and her life at Mrs. Wyeth's. In her letters she had endeavored to tell + every possible item of news which might be interesting to her uncles, but + now these items were one by one recalled, reviewed, and discussed. + </p> + <p> + “'Twas kind of funny, that young Smith feller's turnin' up for dinner that + time,” observed Mr. Hamilton. “Cal'late you was some surprised to see him, + wan't you?” + </p> + <p> + Mary smiled. “Why, yes,” she said, “but I think he was more surprised to + see me, Uncle Zoeth.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Shad laughed heartily. “Shouldn't wonder,” he admitted. “Didn't + bring any fly paper along with him, did he? No? Well, that was an + oversight. Maybe he thought fly time was past and gone. He seemed to be a + real nice kind of young feller when he was down here that summer. He's + older now; does he seem that way yet?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, yes, I think so. I only saw him for a little while.” + </p> + <p> + Isaiah seemed to think it time for him to put in a question. + </p> + <p> + “Good lookin' as ever, I cal'late, ain't he?” he observed. + </p> + <p> + Mary was much amused. “Why, I suppose he is,” she answered. “But why in + the world are you interested in his good looks, Isaiah?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Chase did his best to assume an expression of deep cunning. He winked + at his employers. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I ain't interested—not 'special,” he declared, “but I didn't + know but SOME folks might be. Ho, ho!” + </p> + <p> + He roared at his own pleasantry. Captain Shadrach, however, did not laugh. + </p> + <p> + “Some folks?” he repeated, tartly. “What are you talkin' about? What + folks?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I ain't sayin' what folks. I'm just sayin' SOME folks. Ho, ho! You + know what I mean, don't you, Mary-'Gusta?” + </p> + <p> + Before Mary could reply the Captain cut in again. + </p> + <p> + “No, she don't know what you mean, neither,” he declared, with emphasis. + “That's enough of that now, Isaiah. Don't be any bigger fool than you can + help.” + </p> + <p> + The self-satisfied grin faded from Isaiah's face and was succeeded by a + look of surprised and righteous indignation. + </p> + <p> + “Wha—what's that?” he stammered. “What's that you're callin' me?” + </p> + <p> + “I ain't callin' you nothin'. I'm givin' you some free advice, that's all. + Well, Mary-'Gusta, I cal'late, if you've had supper enough, you and me and + Zoeth will go into the settin'-room, where we can all talk and I can + smoke. I can always talk better under a full head of steam. Come on, + Zoeth, Isaiah wants to be clearin' the table.” + </p> + <p> + But Mr. Chase's thoughts were not concerned with table clearing just then. + He stepped between Captain Shadrach and the door leading to the + sitting-room. + </p> + <p> + “Cap'n Shad Gould,” he sputtered, “you—you said somethin' about a + fool. Who's a fool? That's what I want to know—who's a fool?” + </p> + <p> + The Captain grunted. + </p> + <p> + “Give it up,” he observed. “I never was any hand at riddles. Come, come, + Isaiah! Get out of the channel and let us through.” + </p> + <p> + “You hold on, Cap'n Shad! You answer me afore you leave this room. Who's a + fool? I want to know who's a fool.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Shad grinned. + </p> + <p> + “Well, go up to the post-office and ask some of the gang there,” he + suggested. “Tell 'em you'll give 'em three guesses. There, there!” he + added, good-naturedly, pushing the irate Mr. Chase out of the “channel.” + “Don't block the fairway any longer. It's all right, Isaiah. You and me + have been shipmates too long to fight now. You riled me up a little, + that's all. Come on, folks.” + </p> + <p> + Two hours later, after Mary had answered the last questions even Captain + Shad could think of, had received answers to all her own, and had gone to + her room for the night, Mr. Hamilton turned to his partner and observed + mildly: + </p> + <p> + “Shadrach, what made you so dreadful peppery to Isaiah this evenin'? I + declare, I thought you was goin' to take his head off.” + </p> + <p> + The Captain grunted. “I will take it off some time,” he declared, “if he + don't keep the lower end of it shut when he'd ought to. You heard what he + said, didn't you?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I heard. That about the Smith boy's good looks, you mean?” + </p> + <p> + “Sartin. And about Mary-'Gusta's noticin' how good-lookin' he was. + Rubbish!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes—yes, I know, but Isaiah was only jokin'.” + </p> + <p> + “Jokin'! Well, he may LOOK like a comic almanac, but he needn't try to + joke like one while that girl of ours is around. Puttin' notions about + fellers and good looks and keepin' company into her head! You might expect + such stuff from them fool drummers that come to the store, but an old + leather-skinned image like Isaiah Chase ought to have more sense. We don't + want such notions put in her head, do we?” + </p> + <p> + Zoeth rubbed his chin. He did not speak and his silence seemed to irritate + his partner. + </p> + <p> + “Well, do we?” repeated the latter, sharply. + </p> + <p> + Zoeth sighed. “No, Shadrach,” he admitted. “I guess likely we don't, but—” + </p> + <p> + “But what?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, we've got to realize that those kind of notions come—come + sort of natural to young folks Mary-'Gusta's age.” + </p> + <p> + “Rubbish! I don't believe that girl's got a single one of 'em in her + mind.” + </p> + <p> + “Maybe not, but they'll be there some day. Ah, well,” he added, “we + mustn't be selfish, you and me, Shadrach. It'll be dreadful hard to give + her up to somebody else, but if that somebody is a good man, kind and + straight and honest, why, I for one will try not to complain. But, Oh, + Shadrach! Suppose he should turn out to be the other thing. Suppose SHE + makes the mistake that I—” + </p> + <p> + His friend interrupted. + </p> + <p> + “Shh! shh!” he broke in, quickly. “Don't talk so, Zoeth. Come on to bed,” + he added, rising from his chair. “This very evenin' I was callin' Isaiah + names for talkin' about 'fellers' and such, and here you and I have been + sittin' talkin' nothin' else. If you hear me say 'fool' in my sleep + tonight just understand I'm talkin' to myself, that's all. Come on aloft, + Zoeth, and turn in.” + </p> + <p> + The following morning Mary astonished her uncles by announcing that as + soon as she had helped Isaiah with the breakfast dishes and the bed making + she was going up to the store. + </p> + <p> + “What for?” demanded Captain Shad. “Course we'll be mighty glad to have + your company, but Zoeth and me presumed likely you'd be for goin' round + callin' on some of the other girls today.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I'm not. If they want to see me they can call on me here. I'm going + up to the store with you and Uncle Zoeth. I want to help sell those + Christmas goods of ours.” + </p> + <p> + The partners looked at each other. Even Zoeth was moved to protest. + </p> + <p> + “Now, Mary-'Gusta,” he said, “it ain't likely that your Uncle Shadrach and + I are goin' to let you sell goods in that store. We won't hear of it, will + we, Shadrach?” + </p> + <p> + “Not by a thunderin' sight!” declared Shadrach, vehemently. “The idea!” + </p> + <p> + “Why not? I've sold a good many there.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't care if you have. You shan't sell any more. 'Twas all right when + you was just a—a girl, a South Harnisser like the rest of us, but + now that you're a Boston young lady, up to a fin—er—what-d'ye-call-it + —er—endin' school—” + </p> + <p> + “Finishin' school, Shadrach,” corrected Mr. Hamilton. + </p> + <p> + “Well, whatever 'tis; I know 'twould be the end of ME if I had to live up + to the style of it. 'Anyhow, now that you're there, Mary-'Gusta, a young + lady, same as I said, we ain't—” + </p> + <p> + But Mary interrupted. “Hush, Uncle Shad,” she commanded. “Hush, this + minute! You're talking nonsense, I AM a South Harniss girl and I'm NOT a + Boston young lady. My chief reasons for being so very happy at the thought + of coming home here for my Christmas vacation were, first, that I should + see you and Uncle Zoeth and Isaiah and the house and the horse and the cat + and the hens, and, next, that I could help you with the Christmas trade at + the store. I know perfectly well you need me. I'm certain you have been + absolutely lost without me. Now, really and truly, haven't you?” + </p> + <p> + “Not a mite,” declared the Captain, stoutly, spoiling the effect of the + denial, however, by adding, although his partner had not spoken: “Shut up, + Zoeth! We ain't, neither.” + </p> + <p> + Mary laughed. “Uncle Shad,” she said, “I don't believe you. At any rate, + I'm going up there this minute to see for myself. Come along!” + </p> + <p> + She made no comment on what she saw at the store, but for the remainder of + the forenoon she was very busy. In spite of the partners' protests, in + fact paying no more attention to those perturbed men of business than if + they were flies to be brushed aside when bothersome, she went ahead, + arranging, rearranging, dusting, writing price tickets, lettering + placards, doing all sorts of things, and waiting on customers in the + intervals. At noon, when she and her Uncle Zoeth left for home and dinner, + she announced herself in a measure satisfied. “Of course there is a great + deal to do yet,” she said, “but the stock looks a little more as if it + were meant to sell and less as if it were heaped up ready to be carted off + and buried.” + </p> + <p> + That afternoon the store of Hamilton and Company was visited by a goodly + number of South Harniss residents. That evening there were more. The news + that Mary-'Gusta Lathrop was at home and was “tendin' store” for her + uncles spread and was much discussed. The majority of those who came did + so not because they contemplated purchasing extensively, but because they + wished to see what effect the fashionable finishing school had had upon + the girl. The general opinion seemed to be that it “hadn't changed her a + mite.” This result, however, was considered a desirable one by the + majority, but was by some criticized. Among the critics was Mrs. Rebecca + Mullet, whose daughter Irene also was away at school undergoing the + finishing process. + </p> + <p> + “Well!” declared Mrs. Mullet, with decision, as she and her husband + emerged from the store together. “Well! If THAT'S a sample of what the + school she goes to does for them that spend their money on it, I'm mighty + glad we didn't send our Rena there, ain't you, Christopher?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Chris Mullet, who had received that very week a bill for his + daughter's “extras,” uttered a fervent assent. + </p> + <p> + “You bet you!” he said. “It costs enough where Rena is, without sendin' + her to no more expensive place.” + </p> + <p> + This was not exactly the reply his wife had expected. + </p> + <p> + “Umph!” she grunted, impatiently. “I do wish you could get along for two + minutes without puttin' on poor mouth. I suppose likely you tell everybody + that you can't afford a new overcoat account of Rena's goin' away to + school. You'd ought to be prouder of your daughter than you are of an + overcoat, I should think.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Mullet muttered something to the effect that he was dum sure he was + not proud of his present overcoat. His wife ignored the complaint. + </p> + <p> + “And you'll be proud of Irene when she comes home,” she declared. “She + won't be like that Mary-'Gusta, standin' up behind the counter and sellin' + goods.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, now, Becky, what's the matter with her doin' that? She always used + to sell goods, and behind that very counter, too. And she certainly can + SELL 'em!” with a reminiscent chuckle. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Mullet glared at him. “Yes,” she drawled, with sarcasm, “so she can—to + some folks. Look at you, with all that Christmas junk under your arm! You + didn't need to buy that stuff any more'n you needed to fly. What did you + buy it for? Tell me that.” + </p> + <p> + Chris shook his head. “Blessed if I know,” he admitted. “I hadn't any idea + of buyin' it, but she and me got to talkin', and she kept showin' the + things to me, and I kept lookin' at 'em and—” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, and kept lookin' at her, too! Don't talk to ME! There's no fool like + an old fool—and an old man fool is the worst of all.” + </p> + <p> + Her husband, usually meek and long-suffering under wifely discipline, + evinced unwonted spirit. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I tell you this, Becky,” he said. “Fur's I can see, Mary-'Gusta's + all right. She's as pretty as a picture, to begin with; she's got money of + her own to spend; and she's been away among folks that have got a lot + more. All them things together are enough to spoil 'most any girl, but + they haven't spoiled her. She's come home here not a mite stuck-up, not + flirty nor silly nor top-lofty, but just as sensible and capable and + common-folksy as ever she was, and that's sayin' somethin'. If our Rena + turns out to be the girl Mary-'Gusta Lathrop is I WILL be proud of her, + and don't you forget it!” + </p> + <p> + Which terminated conversation in the Mullet family for that evening. + </p> + <p> + But if the few, like Mrs. Mullet, were inclined to criticize, the many, + like her husband, united in declaring Mary to be “all right.” And her + rearranging and displaying of the Christmas goods helped her and her + uncles to dispose of them. In fact, for the three days before Christmas it + became necessary to call in the services of Annabel as assistant + saleslady. The store was crowded, particularly in the evenings, and Zoeth + and Captain Shad experienced for the first time in months the sensation of + being the heads of a prosperous business. + </p> + <p> + “Looks good to see so many young folks in here, don't it, Zoeth?” observed + the Captain. “And not only girls, but fellers, too. Don't know when I've + seen so many young fellers in here. Who's that young squirt Mary-'Gusta's + waitin' on now? The one with the whittled-in back to his overcoat. Say, + Solomon in all his glory wasn't arrayed like one of him! Must be some city + feller, eh? Nobody I know.” + </p> + <p> + Zoeth looked at his niece and her customer. + </p> + <p> + “Humph!” he said. “Guess you ain't rubbed your glasses lately, Shadrach. + That's Dan Higgins.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Higgins it was, home for a few days' relaxation from the fatigues of + coffin selling, and garbed as usual in city clothes the splendor of which, + as Captain Shad said afterwards, “would have given a blind man eyestrain.” + Daniel's arms were filled with purchases and he and Mary were standing + beside the table where the toys and games were displayed. Mary was gazing + at the toys; Mr. Higgins was—not. + </p> + <p> + The partners regarded the pair for a moment. Shadrach frowned. + </p> + <p> + “Humph!” he grunted. + </p> + <p> + “Daniel's tryin' to find somethin' his little brother'll like,” explained + Zoeth. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” observed the Captain, dryly. “Well, he looks as if he'd found + somethin' HE liked pretty well. Here, Mary-'Gusta, I'll finish waitin' on + Dan. You just see what Mrs. Nickerson wants, will you, please?” + </p> + <p> + Christmas Eve ended the rush of business for Hamilton and Company. The + following week, the last of Mary's vacation, was certain to be dull + enough. “Nothin' to do but change presents for folks,” prophesied Captain + Shad. “Give them somethin' they want and take back somethin' we don't + want. That kind of trade is like shovelin' fog up hill, more exercise than + profit.” + </p> + <p> + Christmas was a happy day at the white house by the shore, a day of + surprises. To begin with, there were the presents which were beside the + plates at breakfast. Mary had brought gifts for all, Captain Shadrach, + Zoeth, and Isaiah. There was nothing expensive, of course, but each had + been chosen to fit the taste and liking of the recipient and there was no + doubt that each choice was a success. Isaiah proudly displayed a jacknife + which was a small toolchest, having four blades, a corkscrew, a + screwdriver, a chisel, a button-hook and goodness knows what else besides. + </p> + <p> + “Look at that!” crowed Isaiah, exhibiting the knife, bristling like a + porcupine, on his open palm. “Look at it! By time, there ain't nothin' I + can't do with that knife! Every time I look at it I find somethin' new. + Now, I wonder what that is,” pointing to a particularly large and + ferocious-looking implement which projected from the steel tangle. “I + cal'late I've sized up about everything else, but I can't seem to make out + what that's for. What do you cal'late 'tis, Cap'n Shad?” + </p> + <p> + Shadrach looked. + </p> + <p> + “Why, that's simple,” he said, gravely. “That's a crust crowbar.” + </p> + <p> + “A what?” + </p> + <p> + “A crust crowbar. For openin' one of them cast-iron pies same as you made + for us last week. You drill a hole in the crust nigh the edge of the plate + and then put that thing in and pry the upper deck loose. Good idea, + Isaiah! I—” + </p> + <p> + “Aw, go to grass!” interrupted the indignant Mr. Chase. “I notice you + always eat enough of my pies, decks—yes, and hull and riggin', too.” + </p> + <p> + Then there was THE great surprise, that which the partners had prepared + for their idolized niece. Mary found beside her plate a small, oblong + package, wrapped in tissue paper and labeled, “To Mary-'Gusta, from Uncle + Shadrach and Uncle Zoeth, with a Merry Christmas.” Inside the paper was a + pasteboard box, inside that a leather case, and inside THAT a handsome + gold watch and chain. Then there was much excited exclaiming and delighted + thanks on Mary's part, and explanations and broad grins on that of the + givers. + </p> + <p> + “But you shouldn't have done it! Of course you shouldn't!” protested Mary. + “It's perfectly lovely and I wanted a watch more than anything; but I KNOW + this must have cost a great deal.” + </p> + <p> + “Never, neither,” protested the Captain. “We got it wholesale. Edgar + Emery's nephew is in the business up to Providence and he picked it out + for us. Didn't begin to cost what we cal'lated 'twould, did it, Zoeth? + When you buy things wholesale that way you can 'most always cal'late to + get 'em lower than you cal'late to.” + </p> + <p> + Mary smiled at this somewhat involved statement, but she shook her head. + </p> + <p> + “I'm sure it cost a great deal more than you should have spent,” she said. + </p> + <p> + “But you like it, don't you?” queried Zoeth, hopefully. + </p> + <p> + “Like it! Oh, Uncle Zoeth, don't you KNOW I like it! Who could help liking + such a beautiful thing?” + </p> + <p> + “How's it show up alongside the watches the other girls have up to that + Boston school?” asked Shadrach, with ill-concealed anxiety. “We wouldn't + want our girl's watch to be any cheaper'n theirs, you know.” + </p> + <p> + The answer was enthusiastic enough to satisfy even the Captain and Mr. + Hamilton. + </p> + <p> + “I'm sure there isn't another girl in the school whose watch means to her + what this will mean to me,” declared Mary. “I shall keep it and love it + all my life.” + </p> + <p> + The partners heaved a sigh of relief. Whether or not the watch was fine + enough for their Mary-'Gusta had been a source of worriment and much + discussion. And then Isaiah, with his customary knack of saying the wrong + thing, tossed a brickbat into the puddle of general satisfaction. + </p> + <p> + “That's so,” he said; “that's so, Mary-'Gusta. You can keep it all your + life, and when you get to be an old woman and married and have + grandchildren then you can give it to them.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Shadrach, who had taken up his napkin preparatory to tucking it + under his chin, turned in his chair and glared at the unconscious steward. + </p> + <p> + “Well, by the jumpin' fire!” he exclaimed, with conviction. “The feller is + sartinly possessed. He's lovesick, that's what's the matter with him. All + he can talk about is somebody's gettin' married. Are YOU cal'latin' to get + married, Isaiah?” + </p> + <p> + “Me? What kind of fool talk is that?” + </p> + <p> + “Who's the lucky woman?” + </p> + <p> + “There ain't no lucky woman. Don't talk so ridic'lous! All I said was that + when Mary-'Gusta was old and married and had—” + </p> + <p> + “There you go again! Married and children! Say, did it ever run acrost + your mind that you was a little mite previous?” + </p> + <p> + “I never said children. What I said was when she was old and had + grandchildren.” + </p> + <p> + “Grandchildren! Well, that's a dum sight MORE previous. Let's have + breakfast, all hands, for the land sakes! Isaiah'll have us cruisin' along + with the third and fourth generation in a few minutes. I'M satisfied with + this one!” + </p> + <p> + That evening, at bedtime, as the partners separated in the upper hall to + go to their respective rooms, Zoeth said: + </p> + <p> + “Shadrach, this has been a mighty nice Christmas for us all, ain't it?” + </p> + <p> + Captain Shad nodded emphatically. “You bet!” he declared. “Don't seem to + me I ever remember a nicer one.” + </p> + <p> + “Nor I, neither. I—I wonder—” + </p> + <p> + “Well, heave ahead. What are you waitin' for? What do you wonder?” + </p> + <p> + “I was just wonderin' if 'twas right for us to be so happy.” + </p> + <p> + “Right?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. Have we been—well, good enough this past year to deserve + happiness like this?” + </p> + <p> + Shadrach grinned. + </p> + <p> + “I ain't puttin' in any testimony on my own hook,” he said, dryly, “but I + don't seem to remember your bein' desperately wicked, Zoeth. Course you + MAY have got drunk and disorderly that time when Mary-'Gusta and I left + you and went to Boston, but I kind of doubt it.” + </p> + <p> + “Hush, hush, Shadrach! Don't joke about serious things. What I mean is + have you and I walked the Lord's way as straight as we'd ought to? We've + tried—that is, seems 's if we had—but I don't know. Anyhow, + all this afternoon I've had a funny feelin' that you and me and + Mary-'Gusta was—well was as if the tide had been comin' in for us + all these years since she's been livin' with us, and as if now 'twould + begin to go out again.” + </p> + <p> + The Captain laughed. “And that's what you call a FUNNY feelin'!” he + exclaimed. “Zoeth, I've got a funny feelin', too, but I know what's the + reason for it—the reason is turkey and plum puddin' and mince pie + and the land knows what. When a couple of old hulks like you and me h'ist + in a cargo of that kind it's no wonder we have feelin's. Good night, + shipmate.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0013" id="link2HCH0013"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIII + </h2> + <p> + The day after New Year's Mary went back to Boston and to school. The long + winter term—the term which Madeline Talbott, whose father was a + judge, called “the extreme penalty”—began. Boston's famous east + winds, so welcome in summer and so raw and penetrating in winter, brought + their usual allowance of snow and sleet, and the walks from Pinckney + Street to the school and back were not always pleasant. Mrs. Wyeth had a + slight attack of tonsillitis and Miss Pease a bronchial cold, but they + united in declaring these afflictions due entirely to their own imprudence + and not in the least to the climate, which, being like themselves, + thoroughly Bostonian, was expected to maintain a proper degree of chill. + </p> + <p> + Mary, fortunately, escaped colds and illness. The walks in all sorts of + weather did her good and her rosy cheeks and clear eyes were competent + witnesses to her state of health. She was getting on well with her + studies, and the Misses Cabot, not too easy to please, were apparently + pleased with her. At home—for she had come to consider Mrs. Wyeth's + comfortable house a home, although not of course to be compared with the + real home at South Harniss—at Mrs. Wyeth's she was more of a + favorite than ever, not only with the mistress of the house, but with Miss + Pease, who was considered eccentric and whose liking was reported hard to + win. The two ladies had many talks concerning the girl. + </p> + <p> + “She is remarkable,” declared Miss Pease on one occasion. “Considering her + lack of early advantages, I consider her ease of manner and + self-possession remarkable. She is a prodigy.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Wyeth sniffed. She enjoyed hearing Mary praised, but she objected to + her friend's choice of words. + </p> + <p> + “For mercy sake, Letitia,” she said, “don't call her that. The word + 'prodigy' always reminds me of the Crummles infant, the one with the green + parasol and the white—er—lingerie, in 'Nicholas Nickleby.'” + </p> + <p> + Miss Pease smiled with the superiority of the corrected who is about to + correct. + </p> + <p> + “I don't see why that should bring the individual you mention to mind,” + she said. “If I remember correctly—and I was brought up on Dickens—she + was a 'phenomenon,' not a prodigy. However, it makes no material + difference what you and I call Mary Lathrop, the fact remains that she is + an exceptionally well-behaved, good-mannered, polite—” + </p> + <p> + “Sweet, healthy girl,” interrupted Mrs. Wyeth, finishing the sentence. “I + know that as well as you do, Letitia Pease. And you know I know it. Now, + what have you in your mind concerning Mary? I know there is something, + because you have been hinting at it for more than a week. What is it?” + </p> + <p> + Miss Pease looked wise. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I have a plan,” she said. “I can't tell even you, Emily, just what it + is as yet. You see, it isn't really a plan, but only an idea so far. She + doesn't know it herself, of course.” + </p> + <p> + “Hum! Is it a pleasant plan—or idea, whichever you call it? That is, + will she think it pleasant when she learns what it is?” + </p> + <p> + “I certainly hope so.” + </p> + <p> + “Look here, Letitia,” with sudden suspicion, “you aren't planning some + ridiculous sentimental nonsense for that child, are you? You're not trying + to make a match for her, I hope?” + </p> + <p> + “Match? What are you talking about? If you mean am I trying to get her + married to some MAN,” with a scornful emphasis on the word, “I most + certainly am not. + </p> + <p> + “Humph! Well, if she ever is married, I presume it will be to a man, or an + imitation of one. All right, Letitia. I am glad your great idea isn't + that, whatever it is.” + </p> + <p> + “It is not. You know my opinion of marriage, Emily Wyeth. And, so far as + matchmaking is concerned, I should say you were a more likely subject for + suspicion. That young relative of yours, Sam Keith, appears to be coming + here a great deal of late. He MAY come solely to see you, but I doubt it.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Wyeth smiled grimly. + </p> + <p> + “Samuel has been rather prevalent recently,” she admitted, “but don't let + that trouble you, Letitia. I have had my eye on the young man. Samuel is + as susceptible to pretty girls as children are to the measles. And his + attacks remind me of the measles as much as anything, sudden outbreak, + high fever and delirium, then a general cooling off and a rapid recovery. + This seizure isn't alarming and there is absolutely no danger of + contagion. Mary doesn't take him seriously at all.” + </p> + <p> + “And how about that other young man?—Smith, I think his name is. He + has called here twice since Christmas.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Wyeth seemed to be losing patience. + </p> + <p> + “Well, what of it?” she demanded. + </p> + <p> + “Why, nothing that I know of, except, perhaps—” + </p> + <p> + “There is no perhaps at all. The Smith boy appears to be a very nice young + fellow, and remarkably sensible for a young person in this hoity-toity + age. From what I can learn, his people, although they do live out West—down + in a mine or up on a branch or a ranch or something—are respectable. + Why shouldn't he call to see Mary occasionally, and why shouldn't she see + him? Goodness gracious! What sort of a world would this be if young people + didn't see each other? Don't tell me that you never had any young male + acquaintances when you were a girl, Letitia, because I shan't believe + you.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Pease straightened in her chair. + </p> + <p> + “It is not likely that I shall make any such preposterous statement,” she + snapped. + </p> + <p> + So the “young male acquaintance” called occasionally—not too often—Mrs. + Wyeth saw to that; probably not so often as he would have liked; but he + did call and the acquaintanceship developed into friendship. That it might + develop into something more than friendship no one, except possibly the + sentimental Miss Pease, seemed to suspect. Certainly Mary did not, and at + this time it is doubtful if Crawford did, either. He liked Mary Lathrop. + She was a remarkably pretty girl but, unlike other pretty girls he had + known—and as good-looking college football stars are privileged + beyond the common herd, he had known at least several—she did not + flirt with him, nor look admiringly up into his eyes, nor pronounce his + jokes “killingly funny,” nor flatter him in any way. If the jokes WERE + funny she laughed a healthy, genuine laugh, but if, as sometimes happened, + they were rather feeble, she was quite likely to tell him so. She did not + always agree with his views, having views of her own on most subjects, and + if he asked her opinion the answer he received was always honest, if not + precisely what he expected or hoped. + </p> + <p> + “By George! You're frank, at any rate,” he observed, rather ruefully, + after asking her opinion as to a point of conduct and receiving it + forthwith. + </p> + <p> + “Didn't you want me to be?” asked Mary. “You asked me what I thought you + should have done and I told you.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, you did. You certainly told me.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, didn't you want me to tell you?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know that I wanted you to tell me just that.” + </p> + <p> + “But you asked me what I thought, and that is exactly what I think. Don't + YOU think it is what you should have done?” + </p> + <p> + Crawford hesitated; then he laughed. “Why yes, confound it, I do,” he + admitted. “But I hoped you would tell me that what I did do was right.” + </p> + <p> + “Whether I thought so or not?” + </p> + <p> + “Why—well—er—yes. Honestly now, didn't you know I wanted + you to say the other thing?” + </p> + <p> + It was Mary's turn to hesitate; then she, too, laughed. + </p> + <p> + “Why, yes, I suppose—” she began; and finished with, “Yes, I did.” + </p> + <p> + “Then why didn't you say it? Most girls would.” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps that is why. I judge that most girls of your acquaintance say + just about what you want them to. Don't you think it is good for you to be + told the truth occasionally?” + </p> + <p> + It was good for him, of course, and, incidentally, it had the fascination + of novelty. Here was a girl full of fun, ready to take a joke as well as + give one, neither flattering nor expecting flattery, a country girl who + had kept store, yet speaking of that phase of her life quite as freely as + she did of the fashionable Misses Cabot's school, not at all ashamed to + say she could not afford this or that, simple and unaffected but + self-respecting and proud; a girl who was at all times herself and + retained her poise and common sense even in the presence of handsome young + demigod who had made two touchdowns against Yale. + </p> + <p> + It was extremely good for Crawford Smith to know such a girl. She helped + him to keep his feet on the ground and his head from swelling. Not that + there was much danger of the latter happening, for the head was a pretty + good one, but Mary Lathrop's common sense was a stimulating—and + fascinating—reenforcement to his own. As he had said on the Sunday + afternoon of their first meeting in Boston, it was a relief to have + someone to talk to who understood and appreciated a fellow's serious + thoughts as well as the frivolous ones. His approaching graduation from + Harvard and the work which he would begin at the Medical School in the + fall were very much in his mind just now. He told Mary his plans and she + and he discussed them. She had plans of her own, principally concerning + what she meant to do to make life easier for her uncles when her school + days were over, and these also were discussed. + </p> + <p> + “But,” he said, “that's really nonsense, after all, isn't it?” + </p> + <p> + “What?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, the idea of your keeping store again. You'll never do that.” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed I shall! Why not?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, because—” + </p> + <p> + “Because what?” + </p> + <p> + “Because—well, because I don't think you will, that's all. Girls + like you don't have to keep a country store, you know—at least, not + for long.” + </p> + <p> + The remark was intended to please; it might have pleased some girls, but + it did not please this one. Mary's dignity was offended. Anything + approaching a slur upon her beloved uncles, or their place of business, or + South Harniss, or the Cape Cod people, she resented with all her might. + Her eyes snapped. + </p> + <p> + “I do not HAVE to keep store at any time,” she said crisply, “in the + country or elsewhere. I do it because I wish to and I shall continue to do + it as long as I choose. If my friends do not understand that fact and + appreciate my reasons, they are not my friends, that is all.” + </p> + <p> + Crawford threw up both hands. “Whew!” he exclaimed. “Don't shoot; I'll + come down! Great Scott! If you take a fellow's head off like that when he + pays you a compliment what would you do if he dared to criticize?” + </p> + <p> + “Was that remark of yours intended as a compliment?” + </p> + <p> + “Not exactly; more as a statement of fact. I meant—I meant—Oh, + come now, Mary! You know perfectly well what I meant. Own up.” + </p> + <p> + Mary tried hard to be solemn and severe, but the twinkle in his eye was + infectious and in spite of her effort her lips twitched. + </p> + <p> + “Own up, now,” persisted Crawford. “You know what I meant. Now, don't + you?” + </p> + <p> + “Well—well, I suppose I do. But I think the remark was a very silly + one. That is the way Sam Keith talks.” + </p> + <p> + “Eh? Oh, does he!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. Or he would if I would let him. And he does it much better than you + do.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I like that!” + </p> + <p> + “I don't. That is why I don't want you to do it. I expect you to be more + sensible. And, besides, I won't have you or anyone making fun of my + uncles' store.” + </p> + <p> + “Making fun of it! I should say not! I have a vivid and most respectful + memory of it, as you ought to know. By the way, you told me your uncles + had sent you their photographs. May I see them?” + </p> + <p> + Mary brought the photographs from her room. They had been taken by the + photographer at Ostable in compliance with what amounted to an order on + her part, and the results showed two elderly martyrs dressed in + respectable but uncomfortable Sunday clothes and apparently awaiting + execution. On the back of one mournful exhibit was written, “Mary Augusta + from Uncle Shadrach,” and on the other, “Uncle Zoeth to Mary Augusta, with + much love.” + </p> + <p> + “Now, don't laugh,” commanded Mary, as she handed the photographs to + Crawford. “I know they are funny, but if you laugh I'll never forgive you. + The poor dears had them taken expressly to please me, and I am perfectly + sure either would have preferred having a tooth out. They ARE the best men + in the world and I am more certain of it every day.” + </p> + <p> + Crawford did not laugh at the photographs. He was a young gentleman of + considerable discretion and he did not smile, not even at Captain Shad's + hands, the left with fingers separated and clutching a knee as if to keep + it from shaking, the right laid woodenly upon a gorgeously bound + parlor-table copy of “Lucille.” Instead of laughing he praised the + originals of the pictures, talked reminiscently of his own visit in South + Harniss, and finally produced from his pocketbook a small photographic + print, which he laid upon the table beside the others. + </p> + <p> + “I brought that to show you,” he said. “You were asking about my father, + you know, and I told you I hadn't a respectable photograph of him. That + was true; I haven't. Dad has another eccentricity besides his dislike of + the East and Eastern ways of living; he has a perfect horror of having his + photograph taken. Don't ask me why, because I can't tell you. It isn't + because he is ugly; he's a mighty good-looking man for his age, if I do + say it. But he has a prejudice against photographs of himself and won't + even permit me to take a snapshot if he can prevent it. Says people who + are always having their pictures taken are vain, conceited idiots, and so + on. However, I catch him unawares occasionally, and this is a snap I took + last summer. He and I were on a fishing trip up in the mountains. We're + great pals, Dad and I—more than most fathers and sons, I imagine.” + </p> + <p> + Mary took the photograph and studied it with interest. Mr. Smith, senior, + was a big man, broad-shouldered and heavy, with a full gray beard and + mustache. He wore a broad-brimmed hat, which shaded his forehead somewhat, + but his eyes and the shape of his nose were like his son's. + </p> + <p> + Mary looked at the photograph and Crawford looked at her. + </p> + <p> + “Well, what do you think of him?” asked the young man after an interval. + </p> + <p> + “Think?” repeated Mary absently, still staring at the photograph. “Why, I—I + don't know what you mean.” + </p> + <p> + “I mean what is your opinion of my respected dad? You must have one by + this time. You generally have one on most subjects and you've been looking + at that picture for at least five minutes.” + </p> + <p> + “Have I? I beg your pardon; I didn't realize. The picture interested me. I + have never seen your father, have I? No, of course I haven't. But it + almost seems as if I had. Perhaps I have seen someone who looks like him.” + </p> + <p> + “Shouldn't wonder. Myself, for instance.” + </p> + <p> + “Of course. That was stupid of me, wasn't it? He looks like an interesting + man, one who has had experiences.” + </p> + <p> + “He has. Dad doesn't talk about himself much, even to me, but he had some + hard rubs before he reached the smooth places. Had to fight his way, I + guess.” + </p> + <p> + “He looks as if he had. But he got his way in the end, I should imagine. + He doesn't look like one who gives up easily.” + </p> + <p> + “He isn't. Pretty stubborn sometimes, Dad is, but a brick to me, just the + same.” + </p> + <p> + “Was your mother an Eastern woman?” + </p> + <p> + “No. She was a Westerner, from California. Dad was married twice. His + first wife came from New England somewhere, I believe. I didn't know there + had been another wife until I was nearly fifteen years old, and then I + found it out entirely by accident. She was buried in another town, you + see. I saw her name first on the gravestone and it made an impression on + me because it was so odd and old-fashioned—'Patience, wife of Edwin + Smith.' I only mention this to show you how little Dad talks about + himself, but it was odd I should find it out that way, wasn't it? But + there! I don't suppose you're interested in the Smith genealogy. I + apologize. I never think of discussing my family affairs with anyone but + you, not even Sam. But you—well, somehow I seem to tell you + everything. I wonder why?” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps because I ask too many questions.” + </p> + <p> + “No, it isn't that. It is because you act as if you really cared to have + me talk about my own affairs. I never met a girl before that did. Now, I + want to ask you about that club business. There's going to be the deuce + and all to pay in that if I'm not careful. Have you thought it over? What + would you do if you were I?” + </p> + <p> + The matter in question was a somewhat delicate and complicated one, + dealing with the admission or rejection of a certain fellow to one of the + Harvard societies. There was a strong influence working to get him in and, + on the other hand, there were some very good objections to his admission. + Crawford, president of the club and one of its most influential members, + was undecided what to do. He had explained the case to Mary upon the + occasion of his most recent visit to the Pinckney Street house, and had + asked her advice. She had taken time for consideration, of course—she + was the old Mary-'Gusta still in that—and now the advice was ready. + </p> + <p> + “It seems to me,” she said, “that I should try to settle it like this.” + </p> + <p> + She explained her plan. Crawford listened, at first dubiously and then + with steadily growing enthusiasm. + </p> + <p> + “By George!” he exclaimed, when she had finished. “That would do it, I + honestly believe. How in the world did you ever think of that scheme? Say, + you really are a wonder at managing. You could manage a big business and + make it go, I'm sure. How do you do it? Where do you get your ideas?” + </p> + <p> + Mary laughed. His praise pleased her. + </p> + <p> + “I don't know,” she answered. “I just think them out, I guess. I do like + to manage things for people. Sometimes I do it more than I should, + perhaps. Poor Isaiah Chase, at home in South Harniss, says I boss him to + death. And my uncles say I manage them, too—but they seem to like + it,” she added. + </p> + <p> + “I don't wonder they do. I like it, myself. Will you help manage my + affairs between now and Commencement? There'll be a whole lot to manage, + between the club and the dance and all the rest of it. And then when you + go to Commencement you can see for yourself how they work out.” + </p> + <p> + “Go to Commencement? Am I going to Commencement?” + </p> + <p> + “Of course you are! You're going with me, I hope. I thought that was + understood. It's a long way off yet, but for goodness' sake don't say you + won't come. I've been counting on it.” + </p> + <p> + Mary's pleasure showed in her face. All she said, however, was: + </p> + <p> + “Thank you very much. I shall be very glad to come.” + </p> + <p> + But Commencement was, as Crawford said, still a good way off and in the + meantime there were weeks of study. The weeks passed, some of them, and + then came the Easter vacation. Mary spent the vacation in South Harniss, + of course, and as there was no Christmas rush to make her feel that she + was needed at the store, she rested and drove and visited and had a + thoroughly happy and profitable holiday. The happiness and profit were + shared by her uncles, it is unnecessary to state. When she questioned them + concerning business and the outlook for the coming summer, they seemed + optimistic and cheerful. + </p> + <p> + “But Isaiah says there are two new stores to be opened in the village this + spring,” said Mary. “Don't you think they may hurt your trade a little?” + </p> + <p> + Captain Shadrach dismissed the idea and his prospective competitors with a + condescending wave of the hand. “Not a mite,” he declared scornfully. “Not + a mite, Mary-'Gusta. Hamilton and Company's a pretty able old craft. She + may not show so much gilt paint and brass work as some of the new ones + just off the ways, but her passengers know she's staunch and they'll stick + by her. Why, Isaiah was sayin' that a feller was tellin' him only + yesterday that it didn't make any difference how many new stores was + started in this town, he'd never trade anywheres but with Hamilton and + Company. That shows you, don't it?” + </p> + <p> + “Who was it said that, Uncle Shad?” asked Mary. + </p> + <p> + “Eh? Why, I don't know. Isaiah was tellin' me about it and we was + interrupted. Who was it, Isaiah?” + </p> + <p> + “'Twas Rastus Young,” replied Mr. Chase promptly. + </p> + <p> + Even the Captain was obliged to laugh, although he declared that Mr. + Young's constancy was a proof that the firm's prospects were good. + </p> + <p> + “Rats'll always leave a sinkin' ship,” he said, “and if Zoeth and me was + goin' under Rat Young would be the first to quit.” + </p> + <p> + Zoeth, when his niece questioned him, expressed confidence that the new + competitors would not prove dangerous. “The Almighty has looked after us + so far,” he added, “unworthy as we be, and I guess he'll carry us the rest + of the way. Put your trust in Him, Mary-'Gusta; I hope they teach you that + up to school.” + </p> + <p> + So Mary, who had been rather troubled at the news of Hamilton and + Company's rivals in the field, dismissed her fears as groundless. Her + uncles were old-fashioned and a little behind the times in business + methods, but no doubt those methods were suited to South Harniss and there + was no cause for worry concerning the firm's future. She made Isaiah + promise to keep her posted as to developments and went back to Boston and + her schoolwork. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0014" id="link2HCH0014"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIV + </h2> + <p> + The spring term was an interesting one and there were other interests as + well. Crawford called more frequently, the plans for Commencement + requiring a great deal of discussion. Mary's fondness for managing was, or + should have been, gratified, for the talent was in constant demand. Sam + Keith, who, after meeting Mary at his cousin's house, had at first + developed an amazing fondness for that relative's society, now came less + often. He was in the second stage of the pretty-girl disease mentioned by + his aunt; the fever and delirium had passed, and he was now cooling off. + It cannot be said that the fever had been in the least encouraged. Mary + was pleasant and agreeable when he called, but she would not treat him as + a confidant or an intimate; she did not accept any of his invitations to + dances or the theater, and she would not flirt even the least little bit. + The last was the most unsatisfactory drawback, because the susceptible + Samuel was fond of flirtations and usually managed to keep at least three + going at the same time. Therefore, the cooling-off process was, in this + case, a bit more rapid than usual. Sam's calls and dinners at his cousin + Emily's residence had decreased from two or three times a week to an + uncertain once a fortnight. Mary, of course, noticed this, but she felt no + regret. Crawford, Sam's roommate, must have noticed it also, but if he + felt regret he managed to conceal the feeling remarkably well. + </p> + <p> + Early in May Captain Shadrach came up to the city to buy summer goods for + the store. He positively refused to make his headquarters at Mrs. Wyeth's, + although that lady sent an urgent invitation to him to do so. And, even + when Mary added her own plea to that of her landlady, the Captain still + refused. + </p> + <p> + Don't ask me, Mary-'Gusta [he wrote]. For the dear land sakes don't ask me + to come to that place and stay. I'd do 'most anything for you, and I will + do that if you are dead sot on it, but I do hope you ain't. I will come up + there and see you of course and I'll even stay to supper if I get asked, + but DON'T ask me to drop anchor and stay there night and day. I couldn't + stand it. My backbone's sprung backwards now from settin' up so straight + last time I was there. + </p> + <p> + So Mary had pity upon him and he took a room at the Quincy House where, as + he said, he didn't have to keep his nose dead on the course every minute, + but could “lay to and be comf'table” if he wanted to. He was invited to + supper at the Wyeth house, however, and while there Mrs. Wyeth found an + opportunity to take him aside and talk with him on a subject which he + found interesting and a trifle disquieting. + </p> + <p> + “Now mind,” said the lady, “I am by no means convinced that the affair is + anything but a mere boy and girl friendship, or that it is ever likely to + be more than that. But I did think I ought to tell you about it and that + you should meet the young man. You have met him, you say?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, ma'am,” said Shadrach, “I've met him. 'Twan't much more'n that—he + just came into our store down home, that's all. But I did meet him and I + must say I thought he was a real likely young feller.” + </p> + <p> + “I am glad you thought so. So do I. Has Mary written you of his calls + here?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes, ma'am, she's written. She ain't the kind of girl to keep + anything back from us; at least, if she is, she's changed a heap since she + came away to school. She's told us about his comin' here and about you and + him and her goin' to that—what-d'ye-call-it—hookey game. She + wrote all about that 'way last February.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, we did go to the hockey game. Samuel, my cousin John Keith's boy, + played in it. Now, Captain Gould, I have a suggestion to make. It has been + some years since you met Crawford Smith and I think, everything + considered, you should meet him again and decide for yourself whether or + not you still consider him a proper young person to call upon your niece. + Suppose you dine with us again tomorrow evening and I invite young Smith + also. Then—” + </p> + <p> + But the Captain interrupted. He had a plan of his own for the following + evening and another meal at Mrs. Wyeth's was not a part of it. + </p> + <p> + “Er—er—excuse me, ma'am,” he cut in hastily, “but I had a—a + kind of notion that Mary-'Gusta and me might get our supper at a—a + eatin'-house or somewhere tomorrow night and then maybe we'd take in—I + mean go to a show—a theater, I should say. I didn't know but I'd ask + this young Smith feller to go along. And—and—” remembering his + politeness, “of course we'd be real glad if you'd come, too,” he added. + </p> + <p> + But Mrs. Wyeth, although she thanked him and expressed herself as heartily + in favor of the supper and theater party, refused to become a member of + it. The Captain bore the shock of the refusal with, to say the least, + manful resignation. He had a huge respect for Mrs. Wyeth, and he liked her + because his beloved Mary-'Gusta liked her so well, but his liking was + seasoned with awe and her no in this case was a great relief. + </p> + <p> + So the following evening at six Mary and her uncle met Crawford at the + Quincy House and the three dined together, after which they saw the + performance of “The Music Master” at the Tremont Theater. Crawford found + the dinner quite as entertaining as the play. Captain Shadrach was in high + good humor and his remarks during the meal were characteristic. He + persisted in addressing the dignified waiter as “Steward” and in referring + to the hotel kitchen as the “galley.” He consulted his young guests before + ordering and accepted their selections gracefully if not always silently. + </p> + <p> + “All right, Mary-'Gusta,” he observed. “All right, just as you say. You're + the skipper of this craft tonight, and me and Crawford here are just + passengers. If you say we've got to eat—what is it?—consummer + soup—why, I suppose likely we have. I'll take my chances if Crawford + will. Course, if I was alone here, I'd probably stick to oyster stew and + roast beef. I know what they are. And it's some comfort to be sure of what + you're gettin', as the sick feller said when the doctor told him he had + the smallpox instead of the measles. You don't mind my callin' you + 'Crawford,' do you?” he added, turning to that young gentleman. “I'm old + enough to be your father, for one thing, and for another a handle's all + right on a jug or a sasspan, but don't seem as if 'twas necessary to take + hold of a friend's name by. And I hope we're goin' to be friends, we + three.” + </p> + <p> + Crawford said he hoped so, too, and he said it with emphasis. + </p> + <p> + “Good!” exclaimed the Captain with enthusiasm. “And we'll cement the + friendship—the book fellers are always tellin' about cementin' + friendships—with this supper of ours, eh? If we only had some of + Isaiah's last batch of mincemeat we could sartinly do it with that; it was + the nighest thing to cement ever I saw put on a table. I asked him if he + filled his pies with a trowel and you ought to have heard him sputter. You + remember Isaiah, don't you, Crawford? Tall, spindlin' critter, sails cook + for Zoeth and me at the house down home. He ain't pretty, but his heart's + in the right place. That's kind of strange, too,” he added with a chuckle, + “when you consider how nigh his shoulder-blades are to the top of his + legs.” + </p> + <p> + Between his stories and jokes he found time to ask his male guest a few + questions and these questions, although by no means offensively personal, + were to the point. He inquired concerning the young man's home life, about + his ambitions and plans for the future, about his friends and intimates at + college. Crawford, without being in the least aware that he was being + catechized, told a good deal, and Captain Shadrach's appraising regard, + which had learned to judge men afloat and ashore, read more than was told. + The appraisal was apparently satisfactory for, after the young man had + gone and the Captain and Mary were saying good night in the Wyeth parlor, + Shadrach said: + </p> + <p> + “A nice boy, I should say. Yes, sir, a real nice young feller, as young + fellers go. I like him fust-rate.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm glad, Uncle Shad,” said Mary. “I like him, too.” + </p> + <p> + Shadrach regarded her with a little of the questioning scrutiny he had + devoted to Crawford during dinner. + </p> + <p> + “You do, eh?” he mused. “How much?” + </p> + <p> + “How much?” repeated Mary, puzzled. “What do you mean?” + </p> + <p> + “I mean how much do you like him? More'n you do your Uncle Zoeth and me, + for instance?” + </p> + <p> + She looked up into his face. What she saw there brought the color to her + own. He might have said more, but she put her finger-tips upon his lips. + </p> + <p> + “Nonsense!” she said hotly. “What wicked, silly nonsense, Uncle Shad! + Don't you ever, ever say such a thing to me again. You KNOW better.” + </p> + <p> + Shadrach smiled and shook his head. + </p> + <p> + “All right, Mary-'Gusta,” he said; “I won't say it again—not till + you say it to me fust, at any rate. There, there, dearie! Don't blow me + clean out of the water. I was only jokin', the same as Isaiah was tryin' + to that night when you came home for your Christmas vacation.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't like that kind of joking. I think it's silly.” + </p> + <p> + “I guess maybe 'tis—for a spell, anyhow. We'll heave the jokes + overboard. Yes, I like that Crawford Smith fust-rate. But the funniest + thing about him is the way he reminds me of somebody else. Who that + somebody is I can't make out nor remember. Maybe I'll think sometime or + other, but anyhow I like him now for his own sake. I asked him to come + down and see us sometime this summer. Wonder if he will.” + </p> + <p> + Mary-'Gusta wondered, too, but she would have wondered more had she known + what that coming summer was to mean to her. The morning after the theater + party Captain Shadrach called to say good-by to Mrs. Wyeth. That lady + asked some questions and listened with interest and approval to his report + concerning Crawford Smith. + </p> + <p> + “I'm glad you were so favorably impressed with the boy,” she said. “As I + told you, I like him myself. And you approve of his friendship with your + niece?” + </p> + <p> + The Captain rubbed his chin. “Why, yes, ma'am,” he said. “I approve of + that, all right, and I cal'late Zoeth would, too. Fact is, where + Mary-'Gusta's concerned 'tain't nothin' BUT friendship, so fur, and I + guess likely 'tain't on his part, either. If it ever should be more, then—well, + then, if he turned out to be all that he'd ought to be I can't see where + we old folks have much right to put our oar in, do you, ma'am?” + </p> + <p> + Perhaps Mrs. Wyeth was tired of the subject; perhaps she objected to being + addressed as one of the old folks; at any rate, she made no answer, but + asked a question instead. + </p> + <p> + “Captain Gould,” she said, “what plans have you and Mr. Hamilton made for + Mary this summer?” + </p> + <p> + “Plans, ma'am? Why, I don't know's we've made any. Of course, we're + countin' on her comin' down to South Harniss when she gets through her + school, and—” + </p> + <p> + “Just a moment, Captain. I have a friend who is very anxious to have you + change that plan for one of hers. Come in, Letitia. Captain Gould, this is + my friend, Miss Pease. Now, Letitia, tell the Captain your plan—the + one you told me last night.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Pease told of her plan and Captain Shad listened, at first with + astonishment, then with a troubled expression and at last with a + combination of both. + </p> + <p> + “There,” said Miss Pease, in conclusion, “that is my plan. It means a + great deal to me and I hope it may mean something to Mary.” + </p> + <p> + “It will be a wonderful opportunity for her,” declared Mrs. Wyeth + emphatically. + </p> + <p> + “What do you think of it, Captain Gould?” asked Miss Pease. + </p> + <p> + Shadrach drew a long breath. “I—I don't know hardly what to say, + ma'am,” he answered. “I can't hardly realize it yet, seems so. It sartinly + would be a wonderful chance for her and it's somethin' me and Zoeth could + never give her or think of givin'. But—but—” + </p> + <p> + “Of course,” said Miss Pease, as he hesitated, “if she is needed very much + at home—if you feel you cannot spare her—” + </p> + <p> + “'Tain't that, ma'am,” interrupted the Captain quickly. “Land knows Zoeth + and me would miss her awful, but we wouldn't let that stand in the way—not + of anything like this. But—but—well, to be right down honest, + ma'am, I don't know's we'd feel like havin' somebody else do so much for + her. Course we ain't well off, Zoeth and I ain't, but we ain't right down + poor, either. We've been used to doin' for ourselves and—” + </p> + <p> + And then Miss Pease had an inspiration. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, dear me!” she broke in hastily. “I do hope you haven't made a + mistake, Captain Gould. I hope you don't think I am offering this as a + charity or purely as a favor to Mary. No, indeed! I am asking it as a + favor to myself. I must have a companion, otherwise I cannot go. And Mary + is just the companion I need. I am very fond of her and I think she likes + me. I am not going to urge too much, Captain Gould, but I do hope you will + consider the matter with Mr. Hamilton and let me hear from you soon. And I + am hoping you will consent. I promise to take good care of your girl and + bring her back safe and sound in September. And I shall not say one word + of my great plan to her until you write me that I may.” + </p> + <p> + So Captain Shadrach, the troubled expression still on his face, returned + on the afternoon train to South Harniss to tell his friend and partner of + Miss Pease's plan. Mary, who accompanied him to the Boston station, + wondered why he seemed so preoccupied and quiet. If she had known what his + thoughts were she would have wondered no longer. + </p> + <p> + Miss Pease planned to travel through Europe during the summer months, and + she had asked the Captain's permission to take Mary with her as her guest + and friend and companion. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0015" id="link2HCH0015"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XV + </h2> + <p> + If time and space did not matter, and if even more important happenings in + Mary-'Gusta's life were not as close at hand to claim attention, it would + be interesting to describe at length those of that spring and the summer + which followed it. Summarized in chronological order, they were these: + First, the lengthy discussions between the partners concerning Miss + Pease's plan, discussions which ended by Zoeth, as senior partner, writing + Miss Pease: + </p> + <p> + Shadrach and I say yes. We ought to have said it afore but flesh is weak + and we found it kind of hard to make up our minds to spare our girl all + summer. But we know we ought to spare her and that it will be a splendid + chance for her. So we say she shall go and we thank you more than we can + say. She will need clothes and fixings to take with her and Shadrach and I + wish to ask if you will be kind enough to help her pick out what she + needs. Maybe Mrs. Wyeth will help too. It will be a great favor if you two + will do this, Shadrach and I not being much good at such things. We will + send the money and will pay for all. + </p> + <p> + Then came the breaking of the news to Mary herself. At first, after she + could be made to believe the whole idea a perfectly serious one and + realized that a trip to Europe—her dearest day-dream, even when a + little girl, and the favorite play with the dolls in the attic at South + Harniss—when she at last realized the opportunity that was hers, + even then she hesitated to accept it. There were her uncles—they + needed her so much in the store—they would miss her so dreadfully. + She could not go and leave them. The united efforts of Miss Pease and Mrs. + Wyeth could not alter her determination to remain at home; only a joint + declaration, amounting to a command and signed by both partners of + Hamilton and Company, had that effect. She consented then, but with + reluctance. + </p> + <p> + The steamer sailed from Boston—Miss Pease's civic loyalty forbade + her traveling on a New York boat—on the thirtieth of June, the week + after Commencement. Mary and Mrs. Wyeth attended the Commencement + exercises and festivities as Crawford's guest. Edwin Smith, Crawford's + father, did not come on from Carson City to see his son receive his + parchment from his Alma Mater. He had planned to come—Crawford had + begun to believe he might come—but at the last moment illness had + prevented. It was nothing serious, he wrote; he would be well and hearty + when the boy came West after graduating. + </p> + <p> + God bless you, son [the letter ended]. If you knew what it means for your + old dad to stay away you'd forgive him for being in the doctor's care. + Come home quick when it's over. There's a four-pound trout waiting for one + of us up in the lake country somewhere. It's up to you or me to get him. + </p> + <p> + Crawford showed the letter to Mary. He was disappointed, but not so much + so as the girl expected. + </p> + <p> + “I never really dared to count on his coming,” he explained. “It has been + this way so many times. Whenever Dad has planned to come East something + happens to prevent. Now it has happened again; I was almost sure it would. + It's a shame! I wanted you to meet him. And I wanted him to meet you, + too,” he added. + </p> + <p> + Mary also was a little disappointed. She had rather looked forward to + meeting Mr. Smith. He was her friend's father, of course, and that of + itself made him an interesting personality, but there was something more—a + sort of mystery about him, inspired in her mind by the photograph which + Crawford had shown her, which made her curious. The man in the photograph + resembled Crawford, of course, but she had the feeling that he resembled + someone else even more—someone she had known or whose picture she + had seen. She was sorry she was not to meet him. + </p> + <p> + Commencement was a wonderful time. Mary was introduced to dozens of young + fellows, attended spreads and sings and proms, danced a great deal, was + asked to dance ever so much more, chatted and laughed and enjoyed herself + as a healthy, happy, and pretty girl should enjoy a college commencement. + And on the following Tuesday she and Miss Pease, looking down from the + steamer's deck, waved their handkerchiefs to Mrs. Wyeth and Zoeth and + Captain Shadrach and Crawford who, standing on the wharf, waved theirs in + return as the big ship moved slowly out of the dock and turned her nose + toward Minot's Light and the open sea. For the first time since Hamilton + and Company put up a sign both partners had come to Boston together. + </p> + <p> + “Annabel's keepin' store,” explained Shadrach, “and Isaiah's helpin'. + It'll be the blind leadin' the blind, I cal'late, but we don't care, do + we, Zoeth? We made up our mind we'd see you off, Mary-'Gusta, if we had to + swim to Provincetown and send up sky-rockets from Race P'int to let you + know we was there. Don't forget what I told you: If you should get as fur + as Leghorn be sure and hunt up that ship-chandler name of Peroti. Ask him + if he remembers Shad Gould that he knew in '65. If he ain't dead I bet you + he'll remember.” + </p> + <p> + So Mary-'Gusta sailed away and for ten marvelous weeks daydreams came true + and attic make-believes turned to realities. War had not yet come to sow + its seed of steel and fire and reap its harvest of blood and death upon + the fair valleys and hills of France, and the travelers journeyed + leisurely from village to cathedral town and from the Seine to the Loire. + They spent three weeks in Switzerland and two in Italy, returning for the + final week to London where, under Miss Pease's expert guidance, Mary + visited the shops, the big ones on Regent and Oxford Streets and the + smaller, equally fascinating—and more expensive—ones on Bond + Street and Piccadilly, buying presents and remembrances for the folks at + home. And, at last, came the day when, leaning upon the rail, she saw the + misty headlands of Ireland sink beneath the horizon and realized that her + wonderful holiday was over and that she was homeward bound. + </p> + <p> + The voyage was rather rough and stormy, as westerly voyages are likely to + be, but the ship was comfortable and speedy and they made good time. Mary + spent but one day in Boston and, on the morning of the next, started for + South Harniss. She had one week before school opened and that week was to + be spent with her uncles; no one else, she vowed, should have a minute of + it. + </p> + <p> + Great were the rejoicings in the white house by the shore that day, and + marvelous was the dinner Isaiah served in honor of the occasion. Mary was + obliged to relate the story of her trip from start to finish, while three + rapt listeners nodded and exclaimed in sympathy or broke in to ask + questions. She had written faithfully, but, as Isaiah said, “writin' ain't + tellin'.” So Mary told and her uncles and Mr. Chase listened and + questioned. It was twelve o'clock that night before anyone thought of + going to bed, and next morning at the breakfast table the questioning + began all over again. + </p> + <p> + “Mrs. Wyeth was down at the dock, I presume likely, to meet you when your + ship made port?” queried Zoeth. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, she was there,” replied Mary. + </p> + <p> + “Anybody else? How about that young Smith feller? Wa'n't he there, too?” + asked Captain Shadrach with elaborate innocence. + </p> + <p> + Mary colored just a little. She knew it was foolish; there was no reason + in the world why she should be embarrassed, but she could not help it. + </p> + <p> + “No, Uncle Shad,” she answered. “He wasn't there. He has not returned from + the West yet, but he will be in Boston next week when the Medical College + opens.” + </p> + <p> + “Been havin' a good time out West there, has he?” inquired the Captain, + still with studied unconcern. + </p> + <p> + “Yes. At least he writes me that he has.” She looked from one to the other + of her trio of listeners and then added: “I have some of his letters here + with me. If you'd like to hear them I'll read them aloud.” + </p> + <p> + “No, no, you needn't do that,” protested Shadrach hastily. But after + another look at him Mary said, “I think I will,” and departed in search of + the letters. + </p> + <p> + Captain Shad, looking a trifle guilty, glanced at his partner. + </p> + <p> + “She needn't read 'em unless she wants to, need she, Zoeth?” he said. “I—I + didn't mean for her to do that.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Hamilton's face expressed doubt and disapproval. + </p> + <p> + “Humph!” he said and that was all. + </p> + <p> + Mary returned bearing the packet of letters, some of which she proceeded + to read. Crawford had spent the summer either at his home in Carson City + or in camping with his father in the Sierras, where he had shot and fished + and apparently enjoyed himself hugely. The letters were frank and + straightforward, full of fun and exuberance, the sort of letters a robust, + clean-minded young fellow ought to write and sometimes does. They were not + sentimental; even Isaiah, with what Captain Shadrach termed his “lovesick + imagination,” would not have called them so. + </p> + <p> + The partners and Mr. Chase listened with interest to the reading of the + letters and expressed their approval. Shadrach's applause was loudest of + all, but he seemed to find difficulty in meeting his niece's eye. Just + before bedtime, after Zoeth and Isaiah had gone upstairs and he was + locking up for the night, Mary, whom he supposed had gone also, reentered + the dining-room and stood before him. + </p> + <p> + “Uncle Shad,” she said severely, “come here a minute and sit down. I want + to talk with you.” + </p> + <p> + She led him to the big rocker. Then she took the little one beside it. + </p> + <p> + “Now, look me in the face,” she commanded. “No,” not out of the window—here. + Um . . . yes. I don't wonder you turn red. I should think you might be + ashamed.” + </p> + <p> + “I—I—what's that?” stammered Shadrach, turning redder than + ever. “What do you mean? Turnin' red! Who's turnin' red?” + </p> + <p> + “You are,” said the young lady, firmly, “and you know it. Now, look me + straight in the eye. Uncle Shad Gould, don't you think it would have been + more honorable, if you wished to know whether Crawford Smith and I + corresponded, to have asked me instead of hinting? Don't you think it + would?” + </p> + <p> + “Hintin'? Why—why, Mary-'Gusta, what-what—?” + </p> + <p> + His face was a study in expression. Mary bit her lip, but she managed to + appear solemn. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, hinting,” she said. “Instead of asking if Crawford and I had written + each other you hinted. Well, now you know that we did write, and have + heard his letters to me, have you any objection?” + </p> + <p> + “Objection? No, no, course not. Why—I—I think 'twas a fine + thing. I—I like to get letters; a heap better than I do to write + 'em,” he added truthfully. + </p> + <p> + “Then why?” + </p> + <p> + “Well—well—I—I—” + </p> + <p> + “And aren't you ashamed?” repeated Mary. + </p> + <p> + “Why—why, yes, by the jumpin' fire, I am! There! I was ashamed when + I done it.” + </p> + <p> + “Then why did you do it?” + </p> + <p> + “Well—well, you see, Mary-'Gusta, I just wanted to know. Your Uncle + Zoeth and me have been actin' as your pilots for a consider'ble spell. + Course you're gettin' big enough now to cruise on your own hook—that + is, in reason, you understand—but—but—well, we've got so + used to takin' an observation every noontime, seein' how you're layin' + your course, you know, that it's hard to lose the habit. Not that Zoeth + was in on this,” he added honestly. “He didn't do any of the hintin', as + you call it. I imagine he'll preach my head off for doin' it, when he gets + me alone.” + </p> + <p> + “You deserve to have it preached off—or partly off, at any rate. Do + you beg my pardon?” + </p> + <p> + “Sartin sure. I'd beg it on my bended knees if 'twa'n't for the + rheumatiz.” + </p> + <p> + “And you won't hint any more?” + </p> + <p> + “Nary a hint.” + </p> + <p> + “That's right. If you want me to tell you anything, please ask. You must + trust me, Uncle Shad. I shall always tell—when there is anything to + tell.” + </p> + <p> + “I know you will, Mary-'Gusta. I'm ashamed of my hintin'. God bless you, + dearie. Now kiss me good night.” + </p> + <p> + He kissed her and, holding her in his arms, looked fondly down into her + eyes. And, as she returned his look, suddenly she blushed crimson and hid + her face in his jacket. Then she broke away and with a good night ran from + the room and up the stairs. + </p> + <p> + Shadrach looked after her, sighed, and, after finishing his locking up, + went upstairs himself. There was a light in his partner's room and he + entered to find Mr. Hamilton sitting at the little table with several + sheets of paper covered with figures spread out before him. The Captain + was so busy with his own thoughts that, for the moment, he did not notice + the papers. + </p> + <p> + “Zoeth,” he said, “our Mary-'Gusta's changed into a grown-up woman. Even + this last summer has changed her. She don't look any older, and she's + prettier than ever, but she thinks different, and I have a notion that, no + matter how much we may want to, you and me ain't goin' to be able to keep + her to ourselves as we—Eh?” suddenly becoming aware of his friend's + occupation. “Are you still fussin' over those things? Didn't I tell you + not to worry any more, but to turn in and sleep?” + </p> + <p> + Zoeth shook his head. His usually placid, gentle face had lost some of its + placidity. He looked worn and worried and the shadows thrown by the lamp + deepened the lines in his forehead. He looked up over his spectacles. + </p> + <p> + “Shadrach,” he said, “I can't help it. I try not to worry and I try to + heave my burdens onto the Almighty, same as we're commanded, but I can't + seem to heave the whole of 'em there. If things don't pick up pretty soon, + I don't know—I don't know—and I don't dare think,” he added + despairingly. + </p> + <p> + The sheet of paper he was holding rattled as his hand shook. Captain Shad + scowled. + </p> + <p> + “If we didn't have our winter goods to buy,” he muttered. “Our credit's + good, that's one comfort.” + </p> + <p> + “It is up to now, because the Boston folks don't know. But WE know, or + we're afraid we know, and that makes it worse. How can we go on buyin' + from folks that has stood our friends ever since we went into business, + knowin' as we do that—” + </p> + <p> + His partner interrupted. + </p> + <p> + “We don't know anything yet,” he declared. “Keep a stiff upper lip, Zoeth. + Nine chances to one we'll weather it all right. WHAT a summer this has + been! And when I think,” he added savagely, “of how well we got along + afore those new stores came it makes me nigh crazy. I'll go out with a + card of matches some night and burn 'em down. Damn pirates! Callin' + themselves good Cape Cod names—names that don't belong to 'em! + Baker's Bazaar! Ugh! Rheinstein's Robbers' Roost would be nigher the + truth. . . . Say, Zoeth, we mustn't hint a word to Mary-'Gusta about this. + We've got cash enough on hand to pay her clearance charges up there at + school, ain't we?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Shadrach, I've looked out for that. I don't know's I'd ought to. The + money maybe had ought to go somewheres else, but—but right or wrong + it's goin' for her and I hope the Lord'll forgive me. And what you say's + true, she mustn't know we're worried. She's so conscientious she might be + for givin' up her schoolin' and comin' down here to help us. She'd be just + as liable to do it as not.” + </p> + <p> + “You're right, she would. Good thing she thinks she's got money of her own + and that that money is payin' her schoolin' bills. She'd be frettin' all + the time about the expense if 'twa'n't for that. You and I must pretend + everything's lovely and the goose hangin' high when she's around. And we + mustn't let Isaiah drop any hints.” + </p> + <p> + “No. Isaiah has asked me two or three times lately if the new stores was + hurtin' our trade. I shouldn't wonder if he had some suspicions down + inside him.” + </p> + <p> + “Umph! Well, that's all right, so long as they stay inside. If I see signs + of one of those suspicions risin' above his Adam's apple I'll choke 'em + down again. I'll put a flea in Isaiah's ear, and I'll put mucilage on its + feet so's 'twill stick there.” + </p> + <p> + So although Mary did notice that the two new shops in the village seemed + to be prospering and that business at Hamilton and Company's was not + rushing even for September, the answers to her questions were so + reassuring that her uneasiness was driven away. Her Uncle Zoeth evaded + direct reply and Captain Shadrach prevaricated whole-heartedly and + cheerfully. Even Isaiah declared that “everything and all hands was doin' + fine.” But Mary made him promise that should it ever be otherwise than + fine he would write her immediately. He gave the promise with some + reluctance. + </p> + <p> + “I cal'late if Cap'n Shad caught me tellin' tales out of school he'd go to + work and turn to and bust me over the head with a marlinespike,” said Mr. + Chase, with the air of one stating a fact. + </p> + <p> + Mary laughed. “Oh, no, he wouldn't,” she declared. “I'll stand back of + you, Isaiah. Now mind, you are to keep me posted on JUST how things are + here.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0016" id="link2HCH0016"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVI + </h2> + <p> + Mary went back to Boston and to school, where old acquaintances were + renewed and new ones made. The Misses Cabot welcomed her with fussy and + dignified condescension. Barbara Howe hugged and kissed her and vowed she + had not seen a girl all summer who was half so sweet. + </p> + <p> + “Why in the world someone doesn't run off with you and marry you this very + minute I cannot see,” declared the vivacious young lady. “If I were a man + I should.” + </p> + <p> + Mary, who was used to Miss Howe's outbursts, merely smiled. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no, you wouldn't,” she replied. “I should hope you would be more + sensible. No one will run off with me; at least I wouldn't run off with + them.” + </p> + <p> + “Why not? Don't you think an elopement is perfectly splendid—so + romantic and all that? Suppose you were head over heels in love with + someone and his people were dead set against his marrying you, wouldn't + you elope then?” + </p> + <p> + “I think I shouldn't. I think I should try to find out why they were so + opposed to me. Perhaps there might be some good reason. If there were no + good reason, then—why, then—well, I don't know. But I should + hesitate a long while before I came between a person and his family. It + must be dreadful to do that.” + </p> + <p> + Barbara laughed. “Nonsense!” she cried. “It's done every day in the best + families, my dear. And then the reconciliation is all the sweeter. You + just wait! Some of these days I expect to read: 'Elopement in South + Harniss High Life. Beautiful Society Maiden Weds Famous Former Football—er—er—I + want another F—Oh, yes, Famous Former Football Favorite.' Isn't that + beautiful? Dear me, how you blush! Or is it sunburn? At any rate, it's + very becoming.” + </p> + <p> + The Famous Former Football Favorite called at Mrs. Wyeth's on the evening + following that of Mary's return to Boston. He was as big and brown as ever + and declared that he had had a wonderful vacation. + </p> + <p> + “And you're looking awfully well, too,” he exclaimed, inspecting her from + head to foot. “She is, isn't she, Mrs. Wyeth?” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Wyeth admitted that she thought so. Crawford nodded emphatically. + </p> + <p> + “By George, you are!” he repeated. + </p> + <p> + There was no doubt of his sincerity. In fact, the admiration in his voice + and look was so obvious and unconcealed that Mary, although she could not + help being pleased, was a little embarrassed. The embarrassment wore away, + however, when he began to tell of his summer in the Sierras and to ask for + additional particulars concerning her European trip. He stayed longer than + usual that evening and came again a few evenings later—to show them + some photographs he had taken in the mountains, so he said. And the + following Sunday he dropped in to accompany them to church. And—but + why particularize? Perhaps it will be sufficient to say that during that + fall and winter the boy and girl friendship progressed as such friendships + are likely to do. Miss Pease, the romantic, nodded and looked wise and + even Mrs. Wyeth no longer resented her friend's looks and insinuations + with the same indignant certainty of denial. + </p> + <p> + “I don't know, Letitia,” she admitted. “I don't know. I'm beginning to + think he cares for her and may be really serious about it. Whether or not + she cares for him is quite another thing and I am sure I shan't presume to + guess. If she does she keeps it to herself, as she does so many other + things. She knows how to mind her own business and that is a gift + possessed by few, Letitia Pease.” + </p> + <p> + Mary went home for the Christmas vacation and spent the holidays, as she + had spent those of the previous year, in helping her uncles at the store. + The Christmas trade, although not so brisk as she had seen it, was not so + bad as to alarm her, and the partners were optimistic as ever. Isaiah, who + had been talked to like a Dutch uncle by Captain Shad and was consequently + in deadly fear of the latter's wrath, declared that as far as he could see + everything was all right. So Mary left South Harniss and returned to + school and the duties of the winter term with few misgivings concerning + matters at home. Crawford met her at the train and came to the Pinckney + Street house that evening to hear the news from the Cape. It was + surprising, the interest in Cape Cod matters manifested of late by that + young man. + </p> + <p> + On a day in early April, Mary, hurrying to Mrs. Wyeth's after school, + found a letter awaiting her. She glanced at the postmark, which was South + Harniss, and the handwriting, which was Isaiah's, and then laid it aside + to be read later on at her leisure. After many postponements and with + considerable reluctance she had accepted an invitation to dine with + Barbara Howe at the latter's home in Brookline and this evening was the + time appointed. It would be her first plunge into society—the home + life of society, that is. The Howes were an old family, wealthy and + well-connected, and Mary could not help feeling somewhat nervous at the + ordeal before her. She knew something of the number and variety of + expensive gowns possessed by her young hostess and her own limited + wardrobe seemed doubly limited and plain by comparison. But she summoned + her unfailing common sense to her rescue and found consolation in the fact + that Barbara and her people knew she was, comparatively speaking, a poor + girl, and therefore could hardly have invited her with the expectation of + seeing her arrayed in fine clothes. And if they had done so—here was + a bit of the old Mary-'Gusta philosophy—their opinion was not worth + consideration anyhow, and the sooner they and she reached mutual disgust + and parting the better. + </p> + <p> + But although her best gown was not new nor expensive, and her jewels were + conspicuous by their absence, the picture she made as she stood before the + mirror giving the last touches to her hair was distinctly not an + unpleasing one. Maggie, the maid, who entered the room to announce a + caller, was extravagant in her praises. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, sure, Miss, you look fine,” she declared. “You're that sweet one look + at you would sugar a cup of tea. Ah, he'll be that proud of you and he + ought to be, too. But he's a fine young man, and—” + </p> + <p> + “Who? What are you talking about, Maggie?” interrupted Mary. “Who will be + proud of me and who is a fine young fellow?” + </p> + <p> + “Who? Why, Mr. Smith, of course; who else? He's down in the parlor waitin' + for you now. I'll tell him you'll be down.” + </p> + <p> + Before Mary could stop her she had left the room and was on her way + downstairs. Mary followed a moment later. She had not expected a visit + from Crawford, who had called already that week. She wondered why he had + come. + </p> + <p> + She found him in the parlor. Mrs. Wyeth was out shopping with Miss Pease, + and he and she were alone. He rose to meet her as she entered. + </p> + <p> + “Why, Crawford,” she said, “what is the matter? Has anything happened? Why + do you look so serious?” + </p> + <p> + He smiled ruefully. “I guess because I am rather serious,” he answered. + “I've had some news and I came to tell you about it.” Then, noticing her + gown, he added: “But you're going out, aren't you?” + </p> + <p> + “I am going out by and by. I am going to dine and spend the evening with + Barbara Howe. But I am not going yet. Won't you sit down?” + </p> + <p> + “I will if you're sure you can spare the time. I hope you can, because—well, + because I do want to talk to you. I've had bad news from home. My father + is ill—and in the doctor's care.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I'm so sorry. I hope it isn't serious.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know whether it is or not. It can't be desperately serious, + because he wrote the letter himself. But at any rate it's serious enough + for me. He wants me to give up my work here at the Harvard Medical and + come West.” + </p> + <p> + Mary gasped. “Give it up!” she repeated. “Give up your studies? Give up + medicine? Surely he doesn't want you to do that!” + </p> + <p> + Crawford shook his head. “No, not quite that,” he replied. “I wouldn't do + that, even for him. But he writes that he is not well and is not likely to + be better for a good while, if ever, and he would be very much happier if + I were nearer at hand. He wants me to give up here at the Harvard Med. and + take up my work again at Denver or Salt Lake City or somewhere out there. + Even Chicago would seem much nearer, he says. It's a pitiful sort of + letter. The old chap seems dreadfully down in the dumps. He wants me, + that's plain enough, and he seems to think he needs me. Says if I were at + Denver I could come home every little while, whereas here I can't. What + ought I to do? I hate to say no, and I hate just as much to say yes.” + </p> + <p> + Mary considered. + </p> + <p> + “I think you must decide for yourself,” she said after a moment. “You have + your career to consider, of course.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I have. But, to be perfectly honest, I suppose my career would not + be influenced greatly if I went. There are plenty of good medical colleges + in the West. It is only that I am a Harvard man and I hoped to finish at + the Harvard school, that is all. But I COULD go. What do you advise?” + </p> + <p> + Again Mary took time for consideration. Her face now was as grave as his. + At last she said, without raising her eyes: “I think you ought to go.” + </p> + <p> + He groaned. “I was afraid you would say that,” he admitted. “And I suppose + you are right.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I think I am. If your father needs you and wants you, and if your + career will not be influenced for harm, I—well, I think you should + do as he wishes.” + </p> + <p> + “And my own wishes shouldn't count, I suppose?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, no, not in this case; not much, at any rate. Do you think they + should?” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps not. But—but yours?” + </p> + <p> + “Mine?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. Do YOU want me to go away?” He leaned forward in his chair and + repeated earnestly: “Do you, Mary?” + </p> + <p> + She looked at him and her eyes fell before the look in his. Her heart + began to beat quickly and she glanced apprehensively toward the partly + opened door. He rose and closed it. Then he came close to her. + </p> + <p> + “Mary,” he said, earnestly, “do you know why this appeal of Dad's has hit + me so very hard? Why it is going to be so mighty difficult to say yes and + leave here? It isn't because I hate to give up Harvard. I do hate that, of + course, but I'd do it in a minute for Dad. It isn't that. It's because I + can't—I just can't think of leaving you. You have come to be—” + </p> + <p> + She interrupted. “Please don't,” she begged. “Please!” + </p> + <p> + He went on, unheeding: + </p> + <p> + “You have come to mean about all there is in life for me,” he declared. + “It isn't money or success or reputation I've been working and plugging + for these last few months; it's just you. I didn't think so once—I + used to think such things were just in books—but now I know. I love + you, Mary.” + </p> + <p> + Again she protested. “Oh, Crawford,” she begged, “please!” + </p> + <p> + “No; you've got to hear me. It's true; I love you, and if you can care for + me, I am going to marry you. Not now, of course; I've got my way to make + first; but some day, if I live.” + </p> + <p> + His teeth set in the determined fashion she had learned to know meant + unswerving purpose. She looked up, saw the expression of his face, and for + the instant forgot everything except her pride in him and her joy that she + should have awakened such feelings. Then she remembered other things, + things which she had spent many hours of many nights in debating and + considering. As he bent toward her she evaded him and rose. + </p> + <p> + “Don't, Crawford! Please!” she said again. “You mustn't say such things to + me. It isn't right that you should.” + </p> + <p> + He looked puzzled. “Why not?” he asked. “At any rate, right or wrong, I + must say them, Mary. I've been holding them in for months and now I've + just got to say them. I love you and I want to marry you. May I?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no, Crawford! No! It is impossible.” + </p> + <p> + “Impossible! Why? Is it—is it because you don't care for me? Don't + you, Mary?” + </p> + <p> + She did not answer. + </p> + <p> + “Don't you?” he repeated. “Look at me! Can't you care, Mary?” + </p> + <p> + She was silent. But when he took a step toward her she raised her hands in + protest. + </p> + <p> + “Please don't!” she pleaded. “No, you mustn't—we mustn't think—Oh, + no, it is impossible!” + </p> + <p> + “It isn't impossible. If you love me as I do you it is the only possible + thing in the world. Listen, dear—” + </p> + <p> + “Hush! I mustn't listen. Be sensible, Crawford! think! We are both so + young. You are only beginning your studies. It will be years before you + can—before you should consider marrying.” + </p> + <p> + “But we can wait. I am willing to wait if you will only promise to wait + for me. I'll work—HOW I'll work!—and—” + </p> + <p> + “I know, but we both have others besides ourselves to consider. I have my + uncles. They have done everything for me. And you have your father. Does + he know—about me—about what you have just said to me?” + </p> + <p> + And now Crawford hesitated. Not long, but long enough for Mary to know + what the answer would be before it was spoken. + </p> + <p> + “He doesn't know,” she said. “I thought not. Do you think he will + approve?” + </p> + <p> + “I hope he will. There is every reason why he should and absolutely none + why he shouldn't. Of course he'll approve; he's sensible.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but he may have plans of his own for you, and your marrying an + Eastern girl may not be one of them. You have often told me how prejudiced + he is against the East and Eastern people. He may disapprove strongly.” + </p> + <p> + Crawford squared his shoulders. There was no hesitation or doubt in his + next speech. + </p> + <p> + “If he does it will make no difference,” he declared. “I care a whole lot + for Dad and I'd do anything on earth for him—anything but the one + thing, that is: I won't give you up—provided you care for me—for + him or for anyone else. That's final.” + </p> + <p> + He certainly looked as if it were. But Mary only shook her head. In the + new thoughts and new imaginings which had come to her during the past + winter there had been a vague foreshadowing of a possible situation + somewhat like this. She had her answer ready. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no, it isn't,” she said. “You are his son, his only child, Crawford. + He cares so much for you. You have often told me that, and—and I + know he must. And you and he have been so happy together. Do you think I + would be the cause of breaking that relationship?” + </p> + <p> + He waved the question aside and asked one of his own. + </p> + <p> + “Do you love me, Mary?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “You mustn't ask me, Crawford. Write your father. Tell him everything. + Will you?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I will. I should have done it, anyway. If I go home, and I suppose I + must, I shall tell him; it will be better than writing. But I want your + answer before I go. Won't you give it to me?” + </p> + <p> + He looked very handsome and very manly, as he stood there pleading. But + Mary had made up her mind. + </p> + <p> + “I can't, Crawford,” she said. “Perhaps I don't know. I do know that it + would not be right for me to say what you want me to say—now. Go + home to your father; he needs you. Tell him everything and then—write + me.” + </p> + <p> + He looked at her, a long, long look. Then he nodded slowly. + </p> + <p> + “All right,” he said; “I will. I will tell him that I mean to marry you. + If he says yes—as he will, I'm sure—then I'll write you that. + If he says no, I'll write you that. But in either case, Mary Lathrop, I + shall marry you just the same. Your own no will be the only thing that can + prevent it. And now may I come and see you tomorrow evening?” + </p> + <p> + “Not tomorrow, Crawford. When will you start for home?” + </p> + <p> + “Saturday, I think. May I come the day after tomorrow? Just to say + good-by, you know.” + </p> + <p> + Mary was troubled. She could not deny him and yet she was certain it would + be better for them both if he did not come. + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps,” she said doubtfully. “But only to say good-by. You must promise + that.” + </p> + <p> + There was a ring at the bell. Then Maggie, the maid, appeared to announce + that the Howe motor car was waiting at the curb. A few moments later Mary + was in her room adjusting her new hat before the mirror. Ordinarily, + adjusting that hat would have been an absorbing and painstaking + performance; just now it was done with scarcely a thought. How devoutly + she wished that the Howe car and the Howe dinner were waiting for anyone + in the wide world but her! She did not wish to meet strangers; she did not + wish to go anywhere, above all she did not wish to eat. That evening, of + all evenings in her life, she wished to be alone. However, accepted + invitations are implied obligations and Mary, having adjusted the hat, + gave her eyes a final dab with a handkerchief and cold water and hastened + down to answer the call to social martyrdom. + </p> + <p> + It was not excruciating torture, that dinner in the Howe dining-room, even + to a young lady who had just listened to a proposal of marriage and + desired to think of nothing less important. Mr. Howe was big and jolly. + Mrs. Howe was gray-haired and gracious and Barbara was—Barbara. + Also, there was a friend of Mr. Howe's, an elderly gentleman named Green, + who it seemed was one of a firm of wholesale grocers downtown, and who + told funny stories and, by way of proving that they were funny, laughed + heartiest of all at the ending of each. He sat next Mrs. Howe during + dinner, but later, when they were all in the handsome drawing-room, he + came over and seated himself upon the sofa next Mary and entered into + conversation with her. + </p> + <p> + “You are not a born Bostonian, I understand, Miss Lathrop,” he observed. + “An importation, eh? Ho, ho! Yes. Well, how do you like us?” + </p> + <p> + Mary smiled. “Oh, I like Boston very much, Mr. Green,” she answered. “I + know it better than any other American city, perhaps that is why. It was + the only city I had ever seen until quite recently. I am imported—as + you call it—from not so far away. My home is on Cape Cod.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Green regarded her with interest. + </p> + <p> + “So?” he said. “From Cape Cod, eh? That's rather peculiar. I have been + very much interested in the Cape for the past day or so. Something has + occurred in connection with my business which brought the Cape to mind. My + attention has been—er—as you may say, gripped by the strong + right arm of Massachusetts. Eh? Ho, ho!” + </p> + <p> + He chuckled at his own joke. Mary was rather bored, but she tried not to + show it. + </p> + <p> + “What part of the Cape has interested you, Mr. Green?” she inquired for + the sake of saying something. + </p> + <p> + “Eh? Oh—er—South Harniss. Little town down near the elbow. Do + you know it?” + </p> + <p> + Mary was surprised, of course. The answer which was on the tip of her + tongue was naturally, “Why, yes, I live there.” But she did not make that + answer, although she has often wondered, since, why. What she said was: + “Yes, I know South Harniss.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you, indeed?” went on Green. “Well, I don't, but I have known some + people who live there for ever so long. My father knew them before me. + They were customers of his and they have been buying of our firm for + years. Two old chaps who keep what I believe they would call a 'general + store.' Fine old fellows, both of them! Different as can be, and + characters, but pure gold inside. I have had some bad news concerning + them. They're in trouble and I'm mighty sorry.” + </p> + <p> + Mary was bored no longer. She leaned forward and asked breathlessly: + </p> + <p> + “What are their names, Mr. Green?” + </p> + <p> + “Eh? Oh, the firm name is Hamilton and Company. That is simple and sane + enough, but the names of the partners were cribbed from the book of + Leviticus, I should imagine—Zoeth and Shadrach! Ho, ho! Think of it! + Think of wishing a name like Shadrach upon a helpless infant. The S. P. C. + A. or C. C. or something ought to be told of it. Ho, ho!” + </p> + <p> + He laughed aloud. Mary did not laugh. + </p> + <p> + “They—you said they were in trouble,” she said slowly. “What sort of + trouble?” + </p> + <p> + “Eh? Oh, the usual kind. The kind of goblin, young lady, which is likely + to get us business men if we don't watch out—financial trouble. The + firm of Hamilton and Company has not kept abreast of the times, that's + all. For years they did a good business and then some new competitors with + up-to-date ideas came to town and—puff!—good-by to the old + fogies. They are in a bad way, I'm afraid, and will have to go under, + unless—eh? But there! you aren't particularly interested, I dare + say. It was your mention of Cape Cod which set me going.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, but I am interested; I am, really. They must go under, you say? Fail, + do you mean?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, that is what I mean. I am very sorry. Our firm would go on selling + them goods almost indefinitely for, as I have said, they are old customers + and in a way old friends. But they are absolutely honest and they will not + buy what they cannot pay for. We have some pitiful letters from them—not + whining, you know, but straightforward and frank. They don't ask favors, + but tell us just where they stand and leave it to us to refuse credit if + we see fit. It is just one of the little tragedies of life, Miss Lathrop, + but I'm mighty sorry for those two old friends of my father's and mine. + And the worst of it is that, from inquiries I have made, it would seem + that they have been sacrificing themselves by spending their money + lavishly and uselessly on someone else. They have a girl in the family, a + sort of adopted niece, whatever that is, and, not content with bringing + her up like a sensible, respectable country girl, they must dress her like + a millionaire's daughter and send her off to some extravagantly expensive + seminary where—Why, what is the matter? Eh? Good heavens! What have + I been saying? You don't know these people, do you?” + </p> + <p> + Mary turned a very white face toward his. + </p> + <p> + “They are my uncles,” she said. “My home is at South Harniss. Please + excuse me, Mr. Green.” + </p> + <p> + She rose and walked away. A few minutes later, when Mr. Howe approached + the sofa, he found his friend sitting thereon, staring at nothing in + particular and fervently repeating under his breath, “The devil! The + devil! The devil!” + </p> + <p> + Mary got away as soon as she could. Her looks attracted Barbara's + attention and the young lady asked if she were not feeling well. Mary + replied that she was not, and although it was not serious please might she + be permitted to go home at once? She was sent home in the automobile and + when she reached her own room her first act was to find and open Isaiah's + letter which had arrived that afternoon. With trembling fingers she held + it beneath the gas jet and this is what she read: + </p> + <p> + DEAR MARY AUGUSTA: + </p> + <p> + I had not ought to write you this and your Uncles would pretty nigh kill + me if they knew I done so but I am going to just the same. Busines has + gone to rack and ruin. Hamilton & Co. thanks to those and other darned + stores, ain't making enough to keep boddy and soul together and they are + making themselves sick over it. I don't know what will become of them to + if something or someboddy does not think up some way to help them over the + shoals. They do not tell anyone and least of all they wouldent want you to + be told, but I think you ought to be. They have done a whole lot for you. + Can't you think up some way to do something for them. For god Sakes write + right off. + </p> + <p> + Yours truly, + </p> + <p> + ISAIAH CHASE. <a name="link2HCH0017" id="link2HCH0017"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVII + </h2> + <p> + People grow older, even on the Cape, where hurry—except by the + automobiles of summer residents—is not considered good form and + where Father Time is supposed to sit down to rest. Judge Baxter, Ostable's + leading attorney-at-law, had lived quietly and comfortably during the + years which had passed since, as Marcellus Hall's lawyer, he read the + astonishing letter to the partners of Hamilton and Company. He was over + seventy now, and behind his back Ostable folks referred to him as “old + Judge Baxter”; but although his spectacles were stronger than at that + time, his mental faculties were not perceptibly weaker, and he walked with + as firm, if not so rapid, a stride. So when, at eleven in the forenoon of + the day following Mary's dinner at the Howes' home, the Judge heard + someone enter the outer room of his offices near the Ostable courthouse, + he rose from his chair in the inner room and, without waiting for his + clerk to announce the visitor, opened the door himself. + </p> + <p> + The caller whose question the clerk was about to answer, or would probably + have answered as soon as he finished staring in awestruck admiration, was + a young lady. The Judge looked at her over his spectacles and then through + them and decided that she was a stranger. He stepped forward. + </p> + <p> + “I am Judge Baxter,” he said. “Did you wish to see me?” + </p> + <p> + She turned toward him. “Yes,” she said simply. “I should like to talk with + you for a few moments if you are not too busy.” + </p> + <p> + The Judge hesitated momentarily. Only the week before a persistent and + fluent young female had talked him into the purchase of a set of “Lives of + the Great Jurists,” the same to be paid for in thirty-five installments of + two dollars each. Mrs. Baxter had pronounced the “Great Jurists” great + humbugs, and her husband, although he pretended to find the “Lives” very + interesting, was secretly inclined to agree with her. So he hesitated. The + young woman, evidently noticing his hesitation, added: + </p> + <p> + “If you are engaged just now I shall wait. I came to see you on a matter + of business, legal business.” + </p> + <p> + Judge Baxter tried to look as if no thought of his visitor's having + another purpose had entered his mind. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes, certainly! Of course!” he said hastily, and added: “Will you + walk in?” + </p> + <p> + She walked in—to the private office, that is—and the Judge, + following her, closed the door. His clerk stared wistfully at his own side + of that door for a full minute, then sighed heavily and resumed his work, + which was copying a list of household effects belonging to a late lamented + who had willed them, separately and individually, to goodness knew how + many cousins, first, second, and third. + </p> + <p> + In the private office the Judge asked his visitor to be seated. She took + the chair he brought forward. Then she said: + </p> + <p> + “You don't remember me, I think, Judge Baxter. I am Mary Lathrop.” + </p> + <p> + The Judge looked puzzled. The name sounded familiar, but he could not seem + to identify its owner. + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps you would remember me if I told you my whole name,” suggested the + latter. “I am Mary Augusta Lathrop. I think perhaps you used to call me + Mary-'Gusta; most people did.” + </p> + <p> + Then the Judge remembered. His astonishment was great. + </p> + <p> + “Mary-'Gusta Lathrop!” he repeated. “Mary-'Gusta! Are you—? Why, it + scarcely seems possible! And yet, now that I look, I can see that it is. + Bless my soul and body! How do you do? It must be almost—er—seven + or eight years since I have seen you. South Harniss is only a few miles + off, but I am getting—er—older and I don't drive as much as I + used to. But there! I am very glad to see you now. And how are Captain + Gould and Mr. Hamilton? There is no need to ask how you are. Your looks + are the best answer to that.” + </p> + <p> + Mary thanked him and said she was very well. Her uncles, too, were well, + she added, or they were when she last heard. + </p> + <p> + “I am on my way home to them now,” she added. “For the past two years I + have been at school in Boston. I left there this morning and got off the + train here because I wished very much to see you, Judge Baxter. Yesterday—last + evening—I heard something—I was told something which, if it is + true, is—is—” + </p> + <p> + She bit her lip. She was evidently fighting desperately not to lose + self-control. The Judge was surprised and disturbed. + </p> + <p> + “Why, Mary!” he exclaimed. “I suppose I may call you Mary still; as an old + friend I hope I may. What is the matter? What did you hear? What do you + wish to see me about?” + </p> + <p> + She was calm enough now, but her earnestness was unmistakable. + </p> + <p> + “I heard something concerning myself and my uncles which surprised and + shocked me dreadfully,” she said. “I can hardly believe it, but I must + know whether it is true or not. I must know at once! You can tell me the + truth, Judge Baxter, if you only will. That is why I came here this + morning. Will you tell it to me? Will you promise that you will answer my + questions, every one, with the exact truth and nothing else? And answer + them all? Will you promise that?” + </p> + <p> + The Judge looked even more surprised and puzzled. He rubbed his chin and + smiled doubtfully. + </p> + <p> + “Well, Mary,” he said, “I think I can promise that if I answer your + questions at all I shall answer them truthfully. But I scarcely like to + promise to answer them without knowing what they are. A lawyer has a good + many secrets intrusted to him and he is obliged to be careful.” + </p> + <p> + “I know. But this is a secret in which I am interested. I am interested in + it more than anyone else. I must know the truth about it! I MUST! If you + won't tell me I shall find out somehow. WILL you tell?” + </p> + <p> + Judge Baxter rubbed his chin again. + </p> + <p> + “Don't you think you had better ask your questions?” he suggested. + </p> + <p> + “Yes; yes, I do. I will. How much money did my stepfather, Captain + Marcellus Hall, have when he died?” + </p> + <p> + The Judge's chin-rubbing ceased. His eyebrows drew together. + </p> + <p> + “Why do you want to know?” he asked, after a moment. + </p> + <p> + “Because I do. Because it is very important that I should. It is my right + to know. Was he a rich man?” + </p> + <p> + “Um—er—no. I should not call him that. Hardly a rich man.” + </p> + <p> + “Was he very poor?” + </p> + <p> + “Mary, I don't exactly see why—” + </p> + <p> + “I do. Oh, Judge Baxter, please don't think I am asking this for any + selfish reasons. I am not, indeed I'm not! All my life, ever since I was + old enough to think of such things at all, I have supposed—I have + been led to believe that my stepfather left me plenty of money—money + enough to pay my uncles for taking care of me, for my clothes and board, + and now, during these last two years, for my studies in Boston. I never, + never should have consented to go to that school if I hadn't supposed I + was paying the expenses myself. I knew my uncles were not well-to-do; I + knew they could not afford to—to do what they had already done for + me, even before that. And now—last night—I was told that—that + they were in great financial trouble, that they would probably be obliged + to fail in business, and all because they had been spending their money on + me, sacrificing themselves and their comfort and happiness in order that + 'an adopted niece with extravagant ideas' might be educated above her + station; that is the way the gentleman who told me the story put it. Of + course he didn't know he was talking to the niece,” she added, with a + pathetic little smile; “but, oh, Judge, can't you see now why I must know + the truth—all of the truth?” + </p> + <p> + Her fingers clasped and unclasped in her lap. The Judge laid his own hand + upon them. + </p> + <p> + “There, there, my dear,” he said soothingly. “Tut, tut, tut! What's all + this about your uncles failing in business? That isn't possible, is it? + Tell me the whole thing, just as it was told to you.” + </p> + <p> + So Mary told it, concluding by exhibiting Isaiah Chase's letter. + </p> + <p> + “It must be very bad, you see,” she said. “Isaiah never would have written + if it had not been. It is hard enough to think that while I was enjoying + myself in Europe and at school they were in such trouble and keeping it + all to themselves. That is hard enough, when I know how they must have + needed me. But if it should be true that it is their money—money + they could not possibly spare—that I have been spending—wasting + there in Boston, I—I—Please tell me, Judge Baxter! Have I any + money of my own? Please tell me.” + </p> + <p> + The Judge rose and walked up and down the floor, his brows drawn together + and his right hand slapping his leg at each turn. After seven or eight of + these turns he sat down again and faced his caller. + </p> + <p> + “Mary,” he said, “suppose this story about your uncles' financial and + business troubles should be true, what will you do?” + </p> + <p> + Mary met his look bravely. Her eyes were moist, but there was no + hesitation in her reply. + </p> + <p> + “I shall stay at home and help them in any way I can,” she said. “There + will be no more Boston and no more school for me. They need me there at + home and I am going home—to stay.” + </p> + <p> + “Whether it is your money or theirs which has paid for your education?” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly. Of course I never should have gone away at all if I had not + supposed my own money were paying the expenses. Judge, you haven't + answered my question—and yet I think—I am afraid that you have + answered it. It was their money that paid, wasn't it?” + </p> + <p> + Judge Baxter was silent for a moment, as if in final deliberation. Then he + nodded, solemnly. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Mary,” he said, “it was their money. In fact, it has been their + money which has paid for most things in your life. Shadrach Gould and + Zoeth Hamilton aren't, maybe, the best business men in the world, but they + come pretty near to being the best MEN, in business or out of it, that I + have met during seventy odd years on this planet. I think, perhaps, it + will be well for you to know just how good they have been to you. Now, + listen!” + </p> + <p> + He began at the beginning, at the day of Marcellus Hall's funeral, when he + read the letter to Shadrach and Zoeth, the letter intrusting Mary-'Gusta + to their care. He told of Marcellus's unfortunate investments, of the loss + of the latter's fortune, and how, when the estate was settled, there were + but a few hundreds where it was expected there might be a good many + thousands. + </p> + <p> + “Don't make any mistake, Mary,” he said earnestly. “Your uncles knew there + was little or no money when they decided to take you. They took you simply + for yourself, because they cared so much for you, not because they were to + make a cent from the guardianship. Everything you have had for the past + two years their money has paid for and you may be absolutely certain they + never have grudged a penny of it. The last time I saw Captain Gould he was + glorying in having the smartest and best girl in Ostable County. And Mr. + Hamilton—” + </p> + <p> + She interrupted him. “Don't, please!” she said chokingly. “Please don't + tell me any more just now. I—I want to think.” + </p> + <p> + “There isn't any more to tell,” he said gently. “I am going into the next + room. I shall be back in a few minutes. Then, if you care to, we can talk + a little more.” + </p> + <p> + When he returned she had risen and was standing by the window looking out + into the back yard. She was calm and even smiled a little as he entered, + although the smile was a rather pitiful one. Of the two the Judge looked + the more perturbed. + </p> + <p> + “Whew!” he exclaimed, after carefully closing the door behind him. “I've + been doing a little thinking my self, young lady, since I left you here. + I've been thinking that I had better take a trip to Canada or China or + somewhere and start in a hurry, too. When your uncles find out that I told + you this thing they have succeeded in keeping from you all this time—well, + it will be high time for me to be somewhere else.” He laughed and then + added gravely: “But I still think I was right in telling you. Under the + circumstances it seems to me that you should know.” + </p> + <p> + “Of course I should. If you had not told me I should have found it out, + now that my suspicions were aroused. Thank you, Judge Baxter. Now I must + go.” + </p> + <p> + “Go? Go where?” + </p> + <p> + “Home—to South Harniss.” + </p> + <p> + “Nonsense! You're not going to South Harniss yet awhile. You're going to + have dinner with my wife and me.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you. I can't. I must go at once. By the next train.” + </p> + <p> + “There isn't any train until nearly four o'clock.” Then, noticing her look + of disappointment, he went on to say: “But that shan't make any + difference. I'll send you over in my nephew's automobile. I'm not + sufficiently up-to-date to own one of the cussed—excuse me things, + but he does and I borrow it occasionally. I don't drive it; good heavens, + no! But his man shall drive you over and I'll guarantee you beat the + train. If you don't, it won't be because you go too slow. Now, of course, + you'll stay to dinner.” + </p> + <p> + But Mary shook her head. “You're very kind, Judge,” she said, “and I thank + you very much, but—” + </p> + <p> + “Well, but what?” + </p> + <p> + “But I—I can't. I—I—Oh, don't you see? I couldn't eat, + or even try to—now. I want to get home—to them.” + </p> + <p> + “And so you shall, my dear. And in double-quick time, too. Here, Jesse,” + opening the door to the outer office and addressing the clerk, “you step + over and tell Samuel that I want to borrow his car and Jim for two hours. + Tell him I want them now. And if his car is busy go to Cahoon's garage and + hire one with a driver. Hurry!” + </p> + <p> + “And now, Mary,” turning to her, “can you tell me any more about your + plans, provided you have had time to make any? If this story about your + uncles' business troubles is true, what do you intend doing? Or don't you + know?” + </p> + <p> + Mary replied that her plans were very indefinite, as yet. + </p> + <p> + “I have some ideas,” she said; “some that I had thought I might use after + I had finished school and come back to the store. They may not be worth + much; they were schemes for building up the business there and adding some + other sorts of business to it. The first thing I shall do is to see how + bad the situation really is.” + </p> + <p> + “I hope it isn't bad. Poor Zoeth certainly has had trouble enough in his + life.” + </p> + <p> + There was a significance in his tone which Mary plainly did not + understand. + </p> + <p> + “What trouble do you mean?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + The Judge looked at her, coughed, and then said hastily: “Oh, nothing in + particular; every one of us has troubles, I suppose. But, Mary, if—if + you find that the story is true and—ahem—a little money might + help to—er—tide the firm over—why, I—I think + perhaps that it might be—ahem—arranged so that—” + </p> + <p> + He seemed to be having difficulty in finishing the sentence. Mary did not + wait to hear the end. + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, Judge,” she said quickly. “Thank you, but I am hoping it may + not be so bad as that. I am going back there, you know, and—well, as + Uncle Shadrach would say, we may save the ship yet. At any rate, we won't + call for help until the last minute.” + </p> + <p> + Judge Baxter regarded her with admiration. + </p> + <p> + “Shadrach and Zoeth are rich in one respect,” he declared; “they've got + you. But it is a wicked shame that you must give up your school and your + opportunities to—” + </p> + <p> + She held up her hand. + </p> + <p> + “Please don't!” she begged. “If you knew how glad I am to be able to do + something, if it is only to give up!” + </p> + <p> + The car and Jim were at the door a few minutes later and Mary, having said + good-by to the Judge and promised faithfully to keep him posted as to + events at home, climbed into the tonneau and was whizzed away. Jim, the + driver, after a few attempts at conversation, mainly concerning the + “unseasonableness” of the weather, finding responses few and absently + given, relapsed into silence. Silence was what Mary desired, silence and + speed, and Jim obliged with the latter. + </p> + <p> + Over the road by which, a dozen years before, she had driven in the old + buggy she now rode again. Then, as now, she wondered what she should find + at her journey's end. Here, however, the resemblance ceased, for whereas + then she looked forward, with a child's anticipations, to nothing more + definite than new sights and new and excitingly delightful adventures, now + she saw ahead—what? Great care and anxiety and trouble certainly, + these at the best; and at the worst, failure and disappointment and + heartbreak. And behind her she was leaving opportunity and the pleasant + school life and friends, leaving them forever. + </p> + <p> + She was leaving Crawford, too, leaving him without a word of explanation. + She had had no time to write even a note. Mrs. Wyeth, after protesting + vainly against her guest's decision to leave for the Cape by the earliest + train in the morning, had helped to pack a few essential belongings; the + others she was to pack and send later on, when she received word to do so. + The three, Mrs. Wyeth, Miss Pease, and Mary, had talked and argued and + planned until almost daylight. Then followed an hour or two of uneasy + sleep, a hurried breakfast, and the rush to the train. Mary had not + written Crawford; the shock of what she had been told at the Howes' and + her great anxiety to see Judge Baxter and learn if what she had heard was + true had driven even her own love story from her mind. Now she remembered + that she had given him permission to call, not this evening but the next, + to say good-by before leaving for the West. He would be disappointed, poor + fellow. Well, she must not think of that. She must not permit herself to + think of anyone but her uncles or of anything except the great debt of + love and gratitude she owed them and of the sacrifice they had made for + her. She could repay a little of that sacrifice now; at least she could + try. She would think of that and of nothing else. + </p> + <p> + And then she wondered what Crawford would think or say when he found she + had gone. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0018" id="link2HCH0018"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVIII + </h2> + <p> + The main street of South Harniss looked natural enough as the motor car + buzzed along it. It was but a few months since Mary had been there, yet it + seemed ever so much more. She felt so much older than on those Christmas + holidays. When the store of Hamilton and Company came in sight she sank + down on the back seat in order not to be seen. She knew her uncles were, + in all probability, there at the store, and she wished to see Isaiah and + talk with him before meeting them. + </p> + <p> + Isaiah was in the kitchen by the cookstove when she opened the door. He + turned, saw her, and stood petrified. Mary entered and closed the door + behind her. By that time Mr. Chase had recovered sufficiently from his + ossification to speak. + </p> + <p> + “Eh—eh—by time!” he gasped. “I snum if it ain't you!” + </p> + <p> + Mary nodded. “Isaiah,” she asked quickly, “are you alone? Are my uncles, + both of them, at the store?” + </p> + <p> + But the cook and steward had not yet completely got over the effect of the + surprise. He still stared at her. + </p> + <p> + “It IS you, ain't it!” he stammered. “I—I—by time, I do + believe you've come home, same as I asked you to.” + </p> + <p> + “Of course I've come home. How in the world could I be here if I hadn't? + DON'T stare at me like that, with your mouth open like a—like a + codfish. Tell me, are Uncle Shad and Uncle Zoeth at the store?” + </p> + <p> + “Eh—Yes, I cal'late they be. Ain't neither of 'em come home to + dinner yet. I'm expectin' one of 'em 'most any minute. I'll run up and + fetch 'em. Say! How in the nation did you get here this time of day?” + </p> + <p> + “I shall tell you by and by. No, I don't want you to get my uncles. I want + to talk with you alone first. Now, Isaiah, sit down! Sit down in that + chair. I want you to tell me just how bad things are. Tell me everything, + all you know about it, and don't try to make the situation better than it + is. And please HURRY!” + </p> + <p> + Isaiah, bewildered but obedient, sat down. The command to hurry had the + effect of making him so nervous that, although he talked enough to have + described the most complicated situation, his ideas were badly snarled and + Mary had to keep interrupting in order to untangle them. And, after all, + what he had to tell was not very definite. Business was bad at the store; + that was plain to everyone in town. “All hands” were trading at the new + stores where prices were lower, stocks bigger and more up-to-date, and + selling methods far, far in advance of those of Hamilton and Company. + </p> + <p> + “About the only customers that stick by us,” declared Isaiah, “are folks + like 'Rastus Young and the rest of the deadbeats. THEY wouldn't leave us + for nothin'—and nothin's what they pay, too, drat 'em!” + </p> + <p> + The partners had not told him of their troubles, but telling was not + necessary. He had seen and heard enough. + </p> + <p> + “They are right on the ragged edge of goin' on the rocks,” vowed Isaiah. + “Zoeth, he's that thin and peaked 'twould make a sick pullet look fleshy + alongside of him. And Cap'n Shad goes around with his hands rammed down in + his beckets—” + </p> + <p> + “In his what?” + </p> + <p> + “In his britches pockets, and he don't scurcely speak a word for hours at + a stretch. And they're up all times of the night, fussin' over account + books and writin' letters and I don't know what all. It's plain enough + what's comin'. Everybody in town is on to it. Why, I was up to the store + t'other day settin' outside on the steps and Ab Bacheldor came along. He + hates Cap'n Shad worse'n pizen, you know. 'Hello, Isaiah!' he says to me, + he says. 'Is that you?' he says. 'Course it's me,' says I. Who'd you think + 'twas?' 'I didn't know but it might be the sheriff,' he says. 'I + understand he's settin' round nowadays just a-waitin'.' And Zoeth was + right within hearin', too!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” exclaimed Mary indignantly. + </p> + <p> + “Yup, that's what he said,” went on Isaiah. “But I got in one dig on my + own hook. 'The sheriff don't wait much down to your house, Abner, does + he?' says I. 'You bet he don't,' says he; 'he don't have to.' 'Well, he'd + starve to death if he waited there long,' says I. Ho, ho! His wife's the + stingiest woman about her cookin' that there is on the Cape. Why, one time + she took a notion she'd keep boarders and Henry Ryder, that drives the + fruit cart, he started to board there. But he only stayed two days. The + fust day they had biled eggs and the next day they had soup made out of + the shells. Course that probably ain't true—Henry's an awful liar—but + all the same—” + </p> + <p> + “Never mind Henry Ryder, or Abner Bacheldor, either,” interrupted Mary. + “How did you happen to send for me, Isaiah?” + </p> + <p> + “Eh? Oh, that just came of itself, as you might say. I kept gettin' more + and more tittered up and worried as I see how things was goin' and I kept + wishin' you was here, if 'twas only to have somebody to talk it over with. + But I didn't dast to write and when you was home Christmas I never dast to + say nothin' because Cap'n Shad had vowed he'd butcher me if I told tales + to you about any home troubles. That's it, you see! All through this their + main idea has been not to trouble you. 'She mustn't know anything or + she'll worry,' says Zoeth, and Cap'n Shad he says, 'That's so.' They think + an awful sight of you, Mary-'Gusta.” + </p> + <p> + Mary did not trust herself to look up. + </p> + <p> + “I know,” she said. “Go on, Isaiah.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I kept thinkin' and thinkin' and one day last week Ezra Hopkins, + that's the butcher cart feller, he and me was talkin' and he says: 'Trade + ain't very brisk up to the store, is it?' he says. 'Everybody says + 'tain't.' 'Then if everybody knows so much what d'ye ask me for?' says I. + 'Oh, don't get mad,' says he. 'But I tell you this, Isaiah,' he says, 'if + Mary-'Gusta Lathrop hadn't gone away to that fool Boston school things + would have been different with Hamilton and Company. She's a smart girl + and a smart business woman. I believe she'd have saved the old fellers,' + he says. 'She was up-to-date and she had the know-how,' says he. Well, I + kept thinkin' what he said and—and—well, I wrote. For the land + sakes don't tell Shad nor Zoeth that I wrote, but I'm glad I done it. I + don't know's you can do anything, I don't know's anybody can, but I'm + mighty glad you're here, Mary-'Gusta.” + </p> + <p> + Mary sighed. “I'm glad I am here, too, Isaiah,” she agreed, “although I, + too, don't know that I can do anything. But,” she added solemnly, “I am + going to try very hard. Now we mustn't let Uncle Shad or Uncle Zoeth know + that I have heard about their trouble. We must let them think I am at home + for an extra holiday. Then I shall be able to look things over and perhaps + plan a little. When I am ready to tell what I mean to do I can tell the + rest. . . . Sshh! Here comes one of them now. It's Uncle Zoeth. Look + happy, Isaiah! HAPPY—not as if you were choking to death! Well, + Uncle Zoeth, aren't you surprised to see me?” + </p> + <p> + Surprised he certainly was; at first, like Isaiah, he could scarcely + believe she was really there. Then, naturally, he wished to know WHY she + was there. She dodged the questions as best she could and Zoeth, innocent + and truthful as always, accepted without a suspicion her vague explanation + concerning an opportunity to run down and see them for a little while. + Dinner was put on the table and then Isaiah hastened up to relieve + Shadrach at the store in order that the partners and Mary might eat + together. + </p> + <p> + The Captain arrived a few minutes later, red-faced, vociferous, and + joyful. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” he shouted, throwing his arms about her and kissing her with a + smack which might have been heard in Abner Bacheldor's yard, “if THIS + ain't a surprise! Zoeth said this mornin' he felt as if somethin' was + goin' to happen, and then Isaiah upset the tea kittle all over both my + feet and I said I felt as if it HAD happened. But it hadn't, had it! Well, + if it ain't good to look at you, Mary-'Gusta! How'd you happen to come + this time of year? Has the schoolhouse foundered?” + </p> + <p> + Mary repeated the excuse she had given Mr. Hamilton. It was sufficient. + The partners were too happy at having her with them to be overcurious + concerning her reasons for coming. Captain Shad talked and joked and + laughed and Zoeth nodded and smiled in his quiet way. If Mary had not + known their secret she would not have guessed it but, as it was, she + noticed how pale and worn Mr. Hamilton looked and how the Captain had + become prone to fits of unwonted silence from which he seemed to arouse + himself with an effort and, after a glance at her, to talk and laugh + louder than ever, Once she ventured to ask how business was and it would + have been almost funny if it had not been so pathetic, the haste with + which they both assured her that it was about the same. + </p> + <p> + After dinner she announced her intention of going up to the store. Her + uncles exchanged looks and then Zoeth said: + </p> + <p> + “What makes you do that, Mary-'Gusta? Nice day like this I'd be out of + door if I was you. We don't need you at the store, do we, Shadrach?” + </p> + <p> + “Not more'n a fish needs a bathin' suit,” declared the Captain, with + conviction. “You go see some of the girls and have a good time, + Mary-'Gusta.” + </p> + <p> + But Mary declined to go and see any of the girls. She could have a better + time at the store than anywhere else, she said. She went to the store and + spent the afternoon and evening there, watching and listening. There was + not much to watch, not more than a dozen customers during the entire time, + and those bought but little. The hardest part of the experience for her + was to see how eager her uncles were to please each caller and how + anxiously each watched the other's efforts and the result. To see Zoeth at + the desk poring over the ledger, his lips moving and the pencil trembling + in his fingers, was as bad as, but no worse than, to see Captain Shadrach, + a frown on his face and his hands in his pockets, pace the floor from the + back door to the front window, stop, look up the road, draw a long breath + that was almost a groan, then turn and stride back again. + </p> + <p> + At six o'clock Mary, who had reasons of her own for wishing to be left + alone in the store, suggested that she remain there while her uncles went + home for supper. Neither Mr. Hamilton nor the Captain would consent, so + she was obliged to go to the house herself and send Isaiah up once more to + act as shopkeeper. But at eleven that night, after unmistakable sounds + from their rooms were furnishing proofs that both partners of Hamilton and + Company were asleep, she tiptoed downstairs, put on her coat and hat, took + the store keys from the nail where Zoeth always hung them, and went out. + She did not return until almost three. + </p> + <p> + The next day she spent, for the most part, at the store. She wrote several + letters and, in spite of her uncles' protests, waited upon several + customers. That evening, as she sat behind the counter thinking, a boy + whom Captain Shadrach identified as Zenas Atkins' young-one rushed + breathlessly into the store to announce between gasps that “Mary-'Gusta + Lathrop's wanted on the phone. It's long distance, too, and—and—you've + got to scrabble 'cause they're holdin' the wire.” Mary hurried out and to + the telephone office. She had not answered Shadrach's question as to who + she thought was calling. She did not know, of course, but she suspected, + and for a cool-headed young business woman, a girl who had ruthlessly + driven all thoughts except those of business from her mind, her heart beat + surprisingly fast as she entered the closet which acted as a substitute + for a telephone booth, and took down the receiver. Yet her tone was calm + enough as she uttered the stereotyped “Hello.” + </p> + <p> + The wire hummed and sang, fragments of distant conversation became audible + and were lost, and then a voice, the voice which she was expecting but, in + a way, dreading to hear, asked: “Hello! Is this Miss Lathrop?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Crawford.” + </p> + <p> + “Mary, is that you?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “I have just called at Mrs. Wyeth's and learned that you had gone. I am + awfully disappointed. I leave for home tomorrow and I had counted on + seeing you before I went. Why did you go without a word to me?” + </p> + <p> + “Didn't Mrs. Wyeth tell you?” + </p> + <p> + “She told me a good deal, but I want to know more. Is it true—that + about your uncles?” + </p> + <p> + “I am afraid it is.” + </p> + <p> + “Great Scott, that's too bad! I am mighty sorry to hear it. Look here, + isn't there something I can do? Do they need—” + </p> + <p> + “Sshh! we mustn't talk about it over the phone. No, there is nothing you + can do. I have some plans partially worked out; something may come of + them. Please don't ask more particulars now.” + </p> + <p> + “All right, I understand; I won't. But mayn't I come down and see you? I + can start West the day after tomorrow just as well and that would give me + time—” + </p> + <p> + “No, Crawford, no. You mustn't come.” + </p> + <p> + “I've a good mind to, whether or no.” + </p> + <p> + “If you do I shall not see you—then or at any other time. But you + won't, will you?” + </p> + <p> + “No, Mary, I won't. It's mighty hard, though.” + </p> + <p> + Perhaps it was quite as hard for her, but she did not reply. + </p> + <p> + “Will you write me—every day?” he went on. . . . “Why don't you + answer?” + </p> + <p> + “I was thinking what would be best for me to do,” she said; “best for us + both, I mean. I shall write you one letter surely.” + </p> + <p> + “ONE!” + </p> + <p> + “One surely. I want you to understand just what my coming here means and + what effect it may have upon my future. You should know that. Afterward, + whether I write you or not will depend.” + </p> + <p> + “Depend! Of course you'll write me! Depend on what?” + </p> + <p> + “On what seems right to me after I have had time to think, and after you + have seen your father. I must go, Crawford. Thank you for calling me. I am + glad you did. Good-by.” + </p> + <p> + “Wait! Mary, don't go! Let me say this—” + </p> + <p> + “Please, Crawford! I'd rather you wouldn't say any more. You understand + why, I'm sure. I hope you will have a pleasant trip home and find your + father's health much improved. Good-by.” + </p> + <p> + She hung up the receiver and hastened back to the store. Shadrach and + Zoeth looked at her questioningly. Finally the former said: + </p> + <p> + “Anything important, was it?” + </p> + <p> + “No, Uncle Shad, not very important.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” + </p> + <p> + A short interval of silence, then— + </p> + <p> + “Mrs. Wyeth callin', I presume likely, eh?” + </p> + <p> + “No, Uncle Shad.” + </p> + <p> + Shadrach asked no more questions, and Zoeth asked none. Neither of them + again mentioned Mary's call to the phone, either to her or to each other. + And she did not refer to it. She had promised her Uncle Shadrach, when he + questioned her the year before concerning Crawford, to tell him “when + there was anything to tell.” But was there anything to tell now? With the + task which she had set herself and the uncertainty before her she felt + that there was not. Yet to keep silence troubled her. Until recently there + had never been a secret between her uncles and herself; now there were + secrets on both sides. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0019" id="link2HCH0019"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIX + </h2> + <p> + At twelve o'clock on a night late in the following week Captain Shadrach, + snoring gloriously in his bed, was awakened by his partner's entering the + room bearing a lighted lamp. The Captain blinked, raised himself on his + elbow, looked at his watch which was on the chair by the bed's head, and + then demanded in an outraged whisper: + </p> + <p> + “What in the nation are you prowlin' around this hour of the night for? + You don't want to talk about those divilish bills and credits and things, + I hope. What's the use? Talkin' don't help none! Jumpin' fire! I went to + bed so's to forget 'em and I was just beginnin' to do it. Now you—” + </p> + <p> + Zoeth held up his hand. “Sshh! sshh!” he whispered. “Hush, Shadrach! I + didn't come to talk about those things. Shadrach, there's—there's + somethin' queer goin' on. Get up!” + </p> + <p> + The Captain was out of bed in a moment. + </p> + <p> + “What's the matter?” he demanded, in a whisper. “What's queer?” + </p> + <p> + “I—I don't exactly know. I heard somebody movin' downstairs and—” + </p> + <p> + Shadrach grunted. “Isaiah!” he exclaimed. “Walkin' in his sleep again, + I'll bet a dollar!” + </p> + <p> + “No, no! It ain't Isaiah. Isaiah ain't walked in his sleep since he was a + child.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, he's pretty nigh his second childhood now, judgin' by the way he + acts sometimes. It was Isaiah of course! Who else would be walkin' around + downstairs this time of night?” + </p> + <p> + “That's what I thought, so I went and looked. Shadrach, it was + Mary-'Gusta. Hush! Let me tell you! She had her things on, hat and all, + and she took the lantern and lit it and went out.” + </p> + <p> + “Went OUT!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, and—and up the road. Now, where—?” + </p> + <p> + Shadrach's answer was to stride to the window, pull aside the shade and + look out. Along the lane in the direction of the village a fiery spark was + bobbing. + </p> + <p> + “There she goes now,” he muttered. “She's pretty nigh to the corner + already. What in the world can she be up to? Where is she bound—at + twelve o'clock?” + </p> + <p> + Zoeth did not answer. His partner turned and looked at him. + </p> + <p> + “Humph!” he exclaimed. “Why don't you tell me the whole of it while you're + about it? You're keepin' somethin' back. Out with it! Do YOU know where + she's bound?” + </p> + <p> + Zoeth looked troubled—and guilty. “Why, no, Shadrach,” he faltered, + “I don't know, but—but I kind of suspect. You see, she—she did + the same thing last night.” + </p> + <p> + “She DID! And you never said a word?” + </p> + <p> + “I didn't know what to say. I heard her go and I looked out of the window + and saw her. She come back about three. I thought sure she'd speak of it + this mornin', but she didn't and—and—But tonight I watched + again and—Shadrach, she's taken the store keys. Anyhow, they're gone + from the nail.” + </p> + <p> + The Captain wiped his forehead. “She's gone to the store, then,” he + muttered. “Jumpin'! That's a relief, anyhow. I was afraid—I didn't + know—Whew! I don't know WHAT I didn't know! But what on earth has + she gone to the store for? And last night too, you say?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. Shadrach, I've been thinkin' and all I can think of is that—that—” + </p> + <p> + “Well—what?” + </p> + <p> + “That—that she suspicions how things are with us—somebody that + does suspicion has dropped a hint and she has—has gone up to—” + </p> + <p> + “To do what? Chuck it overboard! Speak it out! To do what?” + </p> + <p> + “To look at the books or somethin'. She knows the combination of the safe, + you recollect.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Shadrach's eyes and mouth opened simultaneously. He made a dive + for the hooks on the bedroom wall. + </p> + <p> + “Jumpin' fire of brimstone!” he roared. “Give me my clothes!” + </p> + <p> + A half-hour later an interested person—and, so far as that goes, at + least every second person in South Harniss would have been interested had + he or she been aware of what was going on—an interested and, of + course, unscrupulous person peeping in under the shades of Hamilton and + Company's window would have seen a curious sight. This person would have + seen two elderly men sitting one upon a wooden chair and the other upon a + wooden packing case and wearing guilty, not to say hang-dog, expressions, + while a young woman standing in front of them delivered pointed and + personal remarks. + </p> + <p> + Captain Shadrach and Zoeth, following their niece to the store, had peeped + in and seen her sitting at the desk, the safe open, and account books and + papers spread out before her. A board in the platform creaked beneath the + Captain's weighty tread and Mary looked up and saw them. Before they could + retreat or make up their minds what to do, she had run to the door, thrown + it open, and ordered them to come in. Neither answered—they could + not at the moment. The certainty that she knew what they had tried so hard + to conceal kept them tongue-tied. + </p> + <p> + “Come in!” repeated Mary. “Come in! And shut the door!” + </p> + <p> + They came in. Also Captain Shadrach shut the door. Just why he obeyed + orders so meekly he could not have told. His niece gave him little time to + think. + </p> + <p> + “I did not exactly expect you,” she said, “but, on the whole, I am glad + you came. Now sit down, both of you, and listen to me. What do you mean by + it?” + </p> + <p> + Zoeth sat, without a word. Shadrach, however, made a feeble attempt to + bluster. + </p> + <p> + “What do WE mean by it?” he repeated. “What do YOU mean, you mean! + Perusin' up here in the middle of the night without a word to your Uncle + Zoeth and me, and—and haulin' open that safe—and—” + </p> + <p> + Again Mary interrupted. + </p> + <p> + “Be still, Uncle Shad!” she commanded. “Sit down! Sit down on that box and + listen to me! That's right. Now tell me! Why have you been telling me fibs + for almost a year? Answer me! Why have you?” + </p> + <p> + Zoeth looked at Shadrach and the latter looked at him. + </p> + <p> + “Fibs?” stammered Mr. Hamilton. “Fibs? Why—why, Mary-'Gusta!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, fibs. I might use a stronger word and not exaggerate very much. You + have led me to think that business was good, that you were doing as well + or better than when I was here with you. I asked you over and over again + and you invariably gave me that answer. And now I know that during all + that time you have scarcely been able to make ends meet, that you have + been worrying yourselves sick, that you—” + </p> + <p> + Captain Shad could stand it no longer. + </p> + <p> + “We ain't, neither!” he declared. “I never was better in my life. I ain't + had a doctor for more'n a year. And then I only had him for the heaves—for + the horse—a horse doctor, I mean. What are you talkin' about! Sick + nothin'! If that swab of an Isaiah has—” + </p> + <p> + “Stop, Uncle Shad! I told you to listen. And you needn't try to change the + subject or to pretend I don't know what I am talking about. I do know. And + as for pretending—well, there has been pretending enough. What do + you mean—you and Uncle Zoeth—by sending me off to school and + to Europe and declaring up and down that you didn't need me here at home?” + </p> + <p> + “We didn't need you, Mary-'Gusta,” vowed Zoeth eagerly. “We got along + fust-rate without you. And we wanted you to go to school and to Europe. + You see, it makes us feel proud to know our girl is gettin' a fine + education and seein' the world. It ain't any more than she deserves, but + it makes us feel awful pleased to know she's gettin' it.” + </p> + <p> + “And as for the store,” broke in the Captain, “I cal'late you've been + pawin' over them books and they've kind of—kind of gone to your + head. I don't wonder at it, this time of night! Hamilton and Company's all + right. We may be a little mite behind in some of our bills, but—er—but. + . . . DON'T look at me like that, Mary-'Gusta! What do you do it for? Stop + it, won't you?” + </p> + <p> + Mary shook her head. + </p> + <p> + “No, Uncle Shad,” she said, “I shan't stop it. I know all about Hamilton + and Company's condition; perhaps I know it better than you do. This is the + fifth night that I have been working over those books and I should know, + at least.” + </p> + <p> + “The FIFTH night! Do you mean to say—” + </p> + <p> + “I mean that I knew you wouldn't tell me what I wanted to know; I had to + see these books for myself and at night was the only time I could do it. + But never mind that now,” she added. “We'll talk of that later. Other + things come first. Uncle Shad and Uncle Zoeth, I know not only about the + affairs of Hamilton and Company, but about my own as well.” + </p> + <p> + Zoeth leaned forward and stared at her. He seemed to catch the + significance of the remark, for he looked frightened, whereas Shadrach was + only puzzled. + </p> + <p> + “You—you know what, Mary-'Gusta?” faltered Zoeth. “You mean—” + </p> + <p> + “I mean,” went on Mary, “that I know where the money came from which has + paid my school bills and for my clothes and my traveling things and all + the rest. I know whose money has paid all my bills ever since I was seven + years old.” + </p> + <p> + Shadrach rose from his chair. He was as frightened as his partner now. + </p> + <p> + “What are you talkin' about, Mary-'Gusta Lathrop?” he shouted. “You know! + You don't know nothin'! You stop sayin' such things! Why don't you stop + her, Zoeth Hamilton?” + </p> + <p> + Zoeth was speechless. Mary went on as if there had been no interruption. + </p> + <p> + “I know,” she said, “that I haven't a penny of my own and never did have + and that you two have done it all. I know all about it—at last.” + </p> + <p> + If these two men had been caught stealing they could not have looked more + guilty. If, instead of being reminded that their niece had spent their + money, they had been accused of misappropriating hers they could not have + been more shaken or dumbfounded. Captain Shadrach stood before her, his + face a fiery red and his mouth opening and shutting in vain attempts at + articulation. Zoeth, his thin fingers extended in appeal, was the first to + speak. + </p> + <p> + “Mary-'Gusta,” he stammered, “don't talk so! PLEASE don't!” + </p> + <p> + Mary smiled. “Oh, yes, I shall, Uncle Zoeth,” she said. “I mean to do more + than talk from now on, but I must talk a little first. I'm not going to + try to tell you what it means to me to learn after all these years that I + have been dependent on you for everything I have had, home and luxuries + and education and opportunities. I realize now what sacrifices you must + have made—” + </p> + <p> + “We ain't, neither!” roared the Captain, in frantic protest. “We ain't, I + tell you. Somebody's been tellin' lies, ain't they, Zoeth? Why—” + </p> + <p> + “Hush, Uncle Shad! Someone HAS been telling me—er—fibs—I + said that at the beginning; but they're not going to tell me any more. I + know the truth, every bit of it, about Father's losing his money in stocks + and—Uncle Shad, where are you going?” + </p> + <p> + Captain Shad was halfway to the door. He answered over his shoulder. + </p> + <p> + “I'm goin' home,” he vowed, “and when I get there I'm goin' to choke that + dummed tattle-tale of an Isaiah Chase! I'll talk to YOU after I've done + it.” + </p> + <p> + Mary ran after him and caught his arm. + </p> + <p> + “Come back, Uncle Shad!” she ordered. “Come back, sit down, and don't be + foolish. I don't want you to talk to me! I am going to talk to you, and + I'm not half through yet. Besides, it wasn't Isaiah who told me, it was + Judge Baxter.” + </p> + <p> + “Judge Baxter! Why, the everlastin' old—” + </p> + <p> + “Hush! He couldn't help telling me, I made him do it. Be still, both of + you, and I'll tell you all about it.” + </p> + <p> + She did tell them, beginning with her meeting with Mr. Green at the Howe + dinner, then of her stop at Ostable and the interview with Baxter. + </p> + <p> + “So I have found it all out, you see,” she said. “I'm not going to try to + thank you—I couldn't, if I did try. But I am going to take my turn + at the work and the worry. To begin with, of course, you understand that I + am through with Boston and school, through forever.” + </p> + <p> + There was an excited and voluble protest, of course, but she paid no heed + whatever to commands or entreaties. + </p> + <p> + “I am through,” she declared. “I shall stay here and help you. I am only a + girl and I can't do much, perhaps, but I truly believe I can do something. + I am a sort of silent partner now; you understand that, don't you?” + </p> + <p> + Shadrach looked doubtful and anxious. + </p> + <p> + “If I had my way,” he declared, “you'd go straight back to that school and + stay there long's we could rake or scrape enough together to keep you + there. And I know Zoeth feels the same.” + </p> + <p> + “I sartin do,” agreed Zoeth. + </p> + <p> + Mary laughed softly. “But you haven't your way, you see,” she said. “You + have had it for ever so long and now I am going to have mine. Your new + silent partner is going to begin to boss you.” + </p> + <p> + For the first time since he entered the door of his store that night—or + morning—Shadrach smiled. It wasn't a broad smile nor a very gay one, + but it was a smile. + </p> + <p> + “Um—ya-as,” he drawled. “I want to know, Mary-'Gusta! I am gettin' + some along in years, but my memory ain't failed much. If I could remember + any day or hour or minute since Zoeth and me h'isted you into the old + buggy to drive you from Ostable here—if I could remember a minute of + that time when you HADN'T bossed us, I—well, I'd put it down in the + log with a red ink circle around it. No, sir-ee! You've been OUR skipper + from the start.” + </p> + <p> + Even Zoeth smiled now and Mary laughed aloud. + </p> + <p> + “But you haven't objected; you haven't minded being—what shall I + call it?—skipped—by me, have you?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + The Captain grinned. “Mind it!” he exclaimed. “Umph! The only time when we + really minded it was these last two years when we ain't had it. We minded + missin' it, that's what we minded.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, you won't miss it any more. Now help me put these things back in + the safe and we'll go home. Yes, home! Tomorrow morning—this + morning, I mean—we'll talk and I'll tell you some of my plans. Oh, + yes! I have plans and I am in hopes they may do great things for Hamilton + and Company. But no more talk tonight. Remember, the skipper is back on + board!” + </p> + <p> + So to the house they went and to bed, the Captain and Mr. Hamilton under + protest. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0020" id="link2HCH0020"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XX + </h2> + <p> + Neither Mary nor the Captain nor Mr. Hamilton slept much of the few hours + until daylight, and Captain Shadrach, who was devoured with curiosity + concerning the plans, would have asked particulars before breakfast, but + Mary would not listen to questions. It was not until breakfast was over + and they were back in the store that she consented to discuss the subject. + </p> + <p> + The safe was reopened and the books and papers spread out upon the desk. + Mary took up one of the sheets of paper; it was covered with rows of + figures in her handwriting. + </p> + <p> + “Now,” she said, “it seems to me that the first thing is to find out + exactly where we stand. When I say 'we,'” she added, with a nod of great + importance, “I mean 'we,' because, as I told you last night, I am a silent + partner in the business now.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't seem to be so terrible much silence,” observed Shadrach dryly. + </p> + <p> + “Hush! Another remark of that kind and I shall set you to sweeping out, + Uncle Shad. Now, Uncle Zoeth, according to the books this is what we owe.” + </p> + <p> + She read from the paper in her hand. + </p> + <p> + “That is the total, Uncle Zoeth, isn't it?” she asked. Zoeth groaned and + admitted that he cal'lated it was nigh enough. + </p> + <p> + “Yes. But this,” holding up another sheet of paper, “is what is owed us, + and it is almost as much as the other.” + </p> + <p> + It was Shadrach's turn to groan. “'Tis if we could get a-hold of it,” he + muttered. “The heft of the gang on that list ain't got a cent and the bulk + of the rest of 'em wouldn't have if they paid what they owed.” + </p> + <p> + Mary nodded determinedly. + </p> + <p> + “There are some that can pay,” she said. “Jeremiah Clifford, for instance. + According to the books he owes us over a hundred and ten dollars and part + of the account is three years old. Mr. Clifford owns property. He can't be + a poor man.” + </p> + <p> + The Captain sniffed. “His wife owns the property,” he said. “Every stick's + in her name. Jerry Clifford's got enough, but he loves it too well to let + go of it. Mean! Why, say! In the old days, when fishin' schooners used to + run from South Harniss here, Jerry he was owner and skipper of a little + hooker and Solon Black went one v'yage with him. There was another fo'mast + hand besides Jerry and Solon aboard and Solon swears that all the hearty + provision Jerry put on board for a four-day trip was two sticks of smoked + herrin'. For two days, so Solon vows, they ate the herrin' and the other + two they chewed the sticks. That may be stretchin' it a mite, but anyhow + it goes to show that Jerry Clifford don't shed money same as a cat does + its hair.” + </p> + <p> + Zoeth put in a word. + </p> + <p> + “He says he'll pay pretty soon,” he observed plaintively. “He's been + sayin' it for over a year, though.” + </p> + <p> + “Humph!” grunted Shadrach. “There's only a difference of one letter + between 'sayin'' and 'payin',' but there ain't but two between 'trust' and + 'bust.'” + </p> + <p> + Mary spoke. “Never mind,” she said. “I shall see Mr. Clifford myself. And + I shall see some of these others, too. Now about our own bills—those + we owe. I have a list of the principal creditors. Mr. Green's firm is one + of them; we owe them most of all, it seems. I think I shall go and see Mr. + Green myself.” + </p> + <p> + “For the land sakes, what for?” demanded Shadrach. “He knows how we're + fixed, Zoeth wrote him.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but I want to talk with him, nevertheless.” + </p> + <p> + “But what for? You ain't goin' beggin' him to—” + </p> + <p> + “I'm not going begging at all. When I talked with him at the Howes' he, + not knowing in the least who I was or that I was your niece, expressed + sympathy for Hamilton and Company and wished there were some way of + helping us out of our trouble—something he could do, you know. I'm + not sure there isn't something he can do. At any rate, I am going to see + him. I shall start for Boston Monday morning.” + </p> + <p> + Zoeth ventured an observation. + </p> + <p> + “He'll be considerable surprised to see you, won't he?” he said. + </p> + <p> + Mary laughed. “I think he will,” she replied. “Surprised and a little + embarrassed. But I imagine his embarrassment will make him all the more + anxious to be of service to me, and that's what I want from him—service.” + </p> + <p> + Of course the partners asked hundreds more questions concerning the plans. + Mary's answers were still disappointingly vague. Before she could tell + just what she meant to do, she said she must be sure, and she was not sure + yet. A great deal would depend upon her Boston trip. They must be patient + until she returned from that. + </p> + <p> + So they were patient—that is to say, Zoeth was really so and Captain + Shadrach was as patient as it was his nature to be. Mary was absent nearly + a week. When she returned she had much to tell. She had visited Mr. Green + at his office on Commercial Street. His surprise and embarrassment were + all that she had prophesied. He offered profuse apologies for his blunder + at the Howes'. + </p> + <p> + “Of course, if I had known of your relationship to Captain Gould and Mr. + Hamilton,” he began, “I should never—Really, I am—I assure you + I hadn't the slightest idea—” + </p> + <p> + He was floundering like a stranded fish. Mary helped him off the shoals by + taking the remainder of his apologies for granted. + </p> + <p> + “Of course you hadn't,” she said. “But I am very glad you told me, Mr. + Green. It was high time I knew. Don't say another word about it, please. I + have come to you to ask advice and, perhaps, help of a sort. May I have a + little of your time?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Green seized the opportunity thus offered. Indeed, she might have + time, all the time she wanted. Anything in his power to do—and so + on. Being a bachelor and something of an elderly beau who prided himself + upon making a good impression with the sex, it had annoyed him greatly, + the memory of his mistake. Also he had been distinctly taken with Mary and + was anxious to reinstate himself in her opinion. So his willingness to + atone was even eager. + </p> + <p> + “As it happens,” he said, “I am not at all busy this afternoon. I can give + you the rest of the day, if you wish. Now what can I do for you?” + </p> + <p> + Mary explained that she had come to speak with him concerning her uncles' + business affairs, his house being Hamilton and Company's largest creditor. + She told of her investigations, of the condition in which she had found + the accounts, and of her determination to remain at South Harniss and work + for the upbuilding of the concern. + </p> + <p> + “Of course I am not a business person like yourself, Mr. Green,” she said. + “I am only a girl. But I worked in my uncles' store and, in a way, managed + it for two years or more before I came to Boston to school. Beside that I + have talked during these last few days with some of South Harniss's most + prominent people—permanent residents, not summer people. From what + they and others tell me I am convinced that the sole reason why my uncles' + business has fallen behind is because of a lack of keeping up to the times + in the face of competition. Everyone likes Uncle Zoeth and Uncle Shadrach + and wishes them well—they couldn't help that, you know.” + </p> + <p> + She made this assertion with such evident pride and with such absolute + confidence that Mr. Green, although inclined to smile, felt it might be + poor judgment to do so. So he agreed that there was no doubt of Shadrach's + and Zoeth's universal popularity. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” went on Mary, “they are dears, both of them, and they think + everyone else is as honest as they are, which is a mistake, of course. So + some people impose on them and don't pay their bills. I intend to stop + that.” + </p> + <p> + She evidently expected her listener to make some comment, so he said, “Oh, + indeed!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” continued Mary. “I intend to stop their trusting everyone under the + sun and I shall try my hardest to collect from those they have already + trusted. There is almost enough due to pay every bill we owe, and I + believe two-thirds of that is collectible if one really goes after it.” + </p> + <p> + “And you will go after it, I presume?” + </p> + <p> + “I most certainly shall. You are smiling, Mr. Green. I suppose it sounds + like a joke, a girl like myself making such statements about things men + are supposed to understand and women not to understand at all. It isn't a + joke in this case, because I think I understand my uncles business better + than they do. I think I can collect what is owed us, pay what we owe, and + make money there in South Harniss. But to do that I must have time and, by + and by, credit, for we need goods. And that is what I came to talk to you + about.” + </p> + <p> + She had brought with her copies of the Hamilton and Company trial balance, + also a list of the firm's debtors and creditors. These she put upon the + desk before Mr. Green and ran a finger down the pages with explanatory + remarks such as, “This is good, I know,” “This can be collected but it may + take a lawyer to get it,” or, as in the case of 'Rastus Young's + long-standing indebtedness, “This isn't worth anything and shouldn't be + counted.” + </p> + <p> + “You see,” she said, in conclusion, “we aren't in such a VERY bad state; + it isn't hopeless, anyway. Now here are the accounts we owe. Yours is the + largest. Here are the others. All these bills are going to be paid, just + as I said, but they can't be paid at all unless I have time. I have been + thinking, thinking very hard, Mr. Green—” + </p> + <p> + Green nodded. “I can see that,” he put in, good-naturedly. + </p> + <p> + “Yes. Well, this is what I want to ask you: Will you give us six months + more to pay the whole of this bill in? I don't think we shall need so much + time, but I want to be sure. And if at the end of two months we have paid + half of it, will you give us credit for another small bill of goods for + the summer season, so that we may be stocked and ready? The summer is our + best season, you see,” she added. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Green nodded. Her businesslike manner he found amusing, although he by + no means shared her confidence in the future. + </p> + <p> + “We shall be very glad to extend the time,” he said. “You may remember I + told you the other evening that so far as our house was concerned, we + should probably be willing to sell your uncles indefinitely, for old + times' sake.” + </p> + <p> + His visitor frowned. + </p> + <p> + “We are not asking it for old times' sake,” she said. “It is the new times + I am interested in. And please understand this isn't sentiment but + business. If you do not believe what I ask to be a safe business risk, + that one your firm would be justified in accepting from anybody, then you + mustn't do it.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Green hesitated. “Suppose I do not accept that risk,” he said; “what + then?” + </p> + <p> + “Then I shall go and see some other creditors, the principal ones, and + make them similar propositions.” + </p> + <p> + “And suppose they don't accept?” + </p> + <p> + “I think they will, most of them. If they don't—well, then there is + another way. My uncles own their house and store. They have been thinking + of selling their property to pay their debts. I should hate to have them + sell, and I don't believe it is necessary. I have been talking with Judge + Baxter over at Ostable—I stopped there on my way to Boston—and + he suggested that they might mortgage and raise money that way. It could + be done, couldn't it? Mortgages are a kind of business I don't know + anything about. They sound horrid.” + </p> + <p> + “Sometimes they are. Miss Lathrop, if I were you I shouldn't sell or + mortgage yet. I am inclined to believe, judging by this balance sheet and + what you say, that you have a chance to pull Hamilton and Company out of + the fire, and I'm very sure you can do it if anyone can. Are you going to + be in the city for a day or two? Good! Then will you let me consider this + whole matter until—say—Thursday? By that time I shall have + made up my mind and may have something to say which will be worth while. + Can you come in Thursday afternoon at two? And will you? Very well. Oh, + don't thank me! I haven't done anything yet. Perhaps I shall not be able + to, but we shall hope for the best.” + </p> + <p> + Mary went straight to Mrs. Wyeth's home on Pinckney Street and once more + occupied her pleasant room on the third floor. In spite of her + determination not to care she could not help feeling a little pang as she + walked by the Misses Cabot's school and remembered that she would never + again enjoy the privileges and advantages of that exclusive institution. + She wondered how the girls, her classmates, had felt and spoken when they + heard the news that she had left them and returned to Cape Cod and + storekeeping. Some would sneer and laugh—she knew that—and + some might be a little sorry. But they would all forget her, of course. + Doubtless, most of them had forgotten her already. + </p> + <p> + But the fact that all had not forgotten was proved that very evening when, + as she and Mrs. Wyeth and Miss Pease were sitting talking together in the + parlor, Maggie, the maid, answering the ring of the doorbell, ushered in + Miss Barbara Howe. Barbara was, as usual, arrayed like the lilies of the + field, but her fine petals were decidedly crumpled by the hug which she + gave Mary as soon as she laid eyes upon her. + </p> + <p> + “You bad girl!” she cried. “Why didn't you tell me you were in town? And + why didn't you answer my letter—the one I wrote you at South + Harniss? I didn't hear a word and only tonight, after dinner, I had the + inspiration of phoning Mrs. Wyeth and trying to learn from her where you + were and what you meant by dropping all your friends. Maggie answered the + phone and said you were here and I threw on my things—yes, 'threw' + is the word; nothing else describes the process—and came straight + over. How DO you do? And WHAT are you doing?” + </p> + <p> + Mary said she was well and that she had been too busy to reply to Miss + Howe's letter. But this did not satisfy. Barbara wanted to know why she + had been busy and how, so Mary told of her determination to remain in + South Harniss and become a business woman, Barbara was greatly excited and + enthusiastic. + </p> + <p> + “Won't it be perfectly splendid!” she exclaimed. “I only wish I were going + to do it instead of having to stay at that straight-up-and-down school and + listen to Prissy's dissertations on Emerson. She told the Freshman class + the other day that she had had the honor of meeting Mr. Emerson when very + young—when SHE was young, she meant; she always tells every Freshman + class that, you know—and one of the Freshies spoke up and asked if + she ever met him afterwards when he was older. They said her face was a + picture; I wish I might have seen it. But do tell me more about that + wonderful store of yours. I am sure it will be a darling, because anything + you have anything to do with is sure to be. Are you going to have a + tea-room?” + </p> + <p> + Mary shook her head. “No,” she said, laughing. “I think not. There's too + much competition.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, but you ought to have one. Not of the ordinary kind, you know, but + the—the other kind, the unusual kind. Why, I have a cousin—a + second—no, third cousin, a relative of Daddy's, she is—who + hadn't much money and whose health wasn't good and the doctor sent her to + live in the country. Live there all the time! Only fancy! Oh, I forgot you + were going to do the same thing. Do forgive me! I'm so sorry! WHAT a + perfect gump I am! Oh, dear me! There I go again! And I know you abhor + slang, Mrs. Wyeth.” + </p> + <p> + “Tell me more about your cousin, Barbara,” put in Mary, before the shocked + Mrs. Wyeth could reply. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, she went to the country and took an old house, the funniest old thing + you ever saw. And she put up the quaintest little sign! And opened a + tea-room and gift shop. I don't know why they call them 'gift shops.' They + certainly don't give away anything. Far, far from that, my dear! Daddy + calls this one of Esther's 'The Robbers' Roost' because he says she + charges forty cents for a gill of tea and two slices of toast cut in eight + pieces. But I tell him he doesn't pay for the tea and toast alone—it + is the atmosphere of the place. He says if he had to pay for all his + atmosphere at that rate he would be asphyxiated in a few months. But he + admires Esther very much. She makes heaps and heaps of money.” + </p> + <p> + “Then her tea-room and gift shop is a success?” + </p> + <p> + “A success! Oh, my dear! It's a scream of a success! Almost any day in + summer there are at least a dozen motor cars outside the door. Everybody + goes there; it's the proper thing to do. I know all this because it isn't + very far from our summer home in Clayton—in the mountains, you + know.” + </p> + <p> + “So she made a success,” mused Mary. “Were there other tea-rooms about?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, dozens! But they're not original; hers is. They haven't the—the + something—you know what I mean, Esther has the style, the knack, the—I + can't say it, but you know. And you would have it, too; I'm perfectly sure + you would.” + </p> + <p> + Mary was evidently much interested. + </p> + <p> + “I wish I might meet your cousin,” she said. + </p> + <p> + “Why, you can. She is here in Boston now, buying for the summer. I'll + phone her and we three will lunch together tomorrow. Don't say you won't; + you've just got to.” + </p> + <p> + So Mary, rather reluctantly, consented to make one of the luncheon party. + Afterward she was glad that she did, for Miss Esther Hemingway—this + was the cousin's name—was an interesting person. She told Mary all + about her tea-room and gift shop, how she started in business, the + mistakes she made at first, and the lessons she had learned from + experience. Because Barbara had asked her to do so she brought with her + photographs of the establishment, its attractive and quaint exterior and + its equally delightful interior. + </p> + <p> + “The whole secret,” she said, “is in keeping everything in good taste and + simple. Choose the right location, fit up your rooms in taste and + cheerfully, serve the best you can find, and sell the unusual and the + attractive things that other people do not have, or at least are not + likely to have. Then charge adequate prices.” + </p> + <p> + “Adequate being spelled A double D,” observed Barbara significantly. + </p> + <p> + Mary parted from Miss Hemingway with a new idea in her head, an idea that + sometime or other she meant to put into practice. + </p> + <p> + On Thursday afternoon she called upon Mr. Green. That gentleman, having + had his opportunity to think, was ready with a proposition. Briefly it was + this: He had personally seen the principal creditors of Hamilton and + Company—they were all Boston business houses—and he and they + had agreed to make the following offer: Hamilton and Company's credit upon + debts already owed was to be extended six months. Mary was to go home, + endeavor to collect what money she could, and with it buy for cash + whatever goods were needed for the summer season. If that season was a + success and the business promised well for the future, then arrangements + could be made for future buying and for paying the old debt a little at a + time. + </p> + <p> + “At any rate,” concluded Mr. Green, “this postpones the mortgaging or + selling for a time at least, and you always have it to fall back on if you + can't make your new undertaking pay. I believe you can. I advise you to + accept. Your other creditors feel the same way.” + </p> + <p> + He did not add, as he might have done, that the opinion of those other + creditors had been influenced almost entirely by his own and that in one + or two instances he had been obliged practically to underwrite the payment + of Hamilton and Company's indebtedness before gaining consent. He had + talked with Mr. Howe, who in turn had called his daughter into + consultation, and Barbara's enthusiastic praise of her friend had + strengthened the favorable impression which the girl had already made upon + both gentlemen. “Do you know, I believe she may win out,” observed Mr. + Howe. + </p> + <p> + “I am inclined to think she will,” concurred Green. + </p> + <p> + “Of course she will!” declared Barbara hotly. “No one who ever knew her + would be silly enough to think she wouldn't.” + </p> + <p> + Hence Mr. Green's underwriting expedition and the proposition to Mary as + the representative of Hamilton and Company. + </p> + <p> + Mary accepted, of course. She was very grateful and said so. + </p> + <p> + “I don't know how to thank you, Mr. Green. I can't promise anything, but + if trying hard will win, I can promise that,” she said. + </p> + <p> + “That's all right, that's all right. I know you'll try, and I think you'll + succeed. Now, why don't you go up and pick out some of those summer goods? + You don't need them yet, and you needn't pay for them yet, but now is the + time to select. Give my regards to your uncles when you see them and tell + them I wish them luck. I may be motoring down the Cape this summer and if + I do I shall drop in on you and them.” + </p> + <p> + Mary had news to tell when she reached South Harniss. It was listened to + with attention, if not entirely in silence. Captain Shadrach's + ejaculations of “You don't say!” “I want to know!” and “Jumpin' fire, how + you talk!” served as punctuation marks during the narration. When she had + finished her story, she said: + </p> + <p> + “And now, Uncle Zoeth and Uncle Shad—now that you've heard the whole + of it, and know what my plan is, what do you think of it?” + </p> + <p> + Both answers were characteristic. Zoeth drew a long breath. + </p> + <p> + “The Almighty sent you to us, Mary-'Gusta,” he vowed. “There was a time a + little spell ago when I begun to think He'd pretty nigh deserted us. I was + almost discouraged and it shook my trust—it shook my trust. But now + I can see He was just tryin' us out and in His good time He sent you to + haul us off the shoals. He'll do it, too; I know it and I'll thank Him + tonight on my knees.” + </p> + <p> + Shadrach shook his head. “By fire!” he cried. “Mary-'Gusta, I always said + you was a wonder. You've given us a chance to get clear of the breakers, + anyhow, and that's somethin' we'd never have done ourselves. Now, if you + can collect that money from Jeremiah Clifford I'll—I'll—I swan + to man I'll believe anything's possible, even Jonah's swallowin' the + whale.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Shadrach!” protested his partner. “If you wouldn't be so irreverent!” + </p> + <p> + “All right, I'll behave. But it's just as I say: if Mary-'Gusta can get + Jerry Clifford to pay up I'll swallow Jonah and the whale, too. 'Twas + Moses that hit the rock and the water gushed out, wa'n't it? Um—hm! + Well, that was somethin' of a miracle, but strikin' Jerry Clifford for ten + cents and gettin' it would be a bigger one. Why, that feller's got fists + like—like one of those sensitive plants my mother used to have in + the settin'-room window when I was a boy. You touch a leaf of one of those + plants and 'twould shrivel up tight. Jerry's fists are that way—touch + one of 'em with a nickel and 'twill shut up, but not until the nickel's + inside. No, sir! Ho, ho!” + </p> + <p> + “If you knew all this, Uncle Shad,” suggested Mary, “why in the world did + you sell Mr. Clifford at all? If he wouldn't pay, why sell him?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Hamilton answered. + </p> + <p> + “He always did pay,” he said. “You see, he had to have groceries and + clothes and such and whenever he needed more and thought he owed us so + much we wouldn't put more on the bill he'd pay a little on account. That + way we managed to keep up with him.” + </p> + <p> + “Not exactly up with him,” commented the Captain. “We was always a couple + of laps astern, but we could keep him in sight. Now the new stores have + come and he can get trusted there he don't buy from us—or pay, + either. What's the use? That's what he thinks, I cal'late.” + </p> + <p> + Mary considered. “The mean old sinner!” she said. “I should judge, Uncle + Shad, that what you told me once, when I was a little girl, about the Free + Masons might apply to Mr. Clifford's pocketbook. You said that once in + Masonry a man never got out. A dollar in Mr. Clifford's pocketbook never + gets out, either, does it?” + </p> + <p> + Shadrach chuckled. “You bet it don't!” he agreed. “It's got a life + sentence. And, so fur as that goes, they generally open a Mason lodge + meetin' with prayer, but 'twould take more'n that to open Jerry's + pocketbook, I'LL bet you!” + </p> + <p> + “And, nevertheless,” declared Mary, laughing, “I mean to make him pay our + bill.” + </p> + <p> + She did make the tight-fisted one pay up eventually, but months were to + elapse before that desirable consummation was reached. In the meantime she + set herself to collecting other amounts owed Hamilton and Company and to + building up the trade at the store. The collecting was not so difficult as + she had expected. The Captain and Mr. Hamilton had been reluctant to ask + their friends and neighbors to be prompt in their payments, and largely + through carelessness accounts had been permitted to drop behind. Mary + personally saw the debtors and in most cases, by offering slight discounts + or by accepting installments, she was able to obtain at least the greater + part of the money due. In some cases she could obtain nothing and expected + nothing, but these cases, among them that of 'Rastus Young, were rather to + be considered in the light of good riddance even at the price. As Shadrach + said, it was worth a few dollars not to have to listen to 'Rastus or Mrs. + 'Rastus cry over their troubles whenever they wanted to hold up the firm + for more plunder. + </p> + <p> + “Last time 'Rastus was in to buy anything,” declared the Captain, “he shed + so blamed many tears into my rubber boots that I got wet feet and sent the + boots to the cobbler's to have 'em plugged. I cal'lated they leaked; I + didn't realize 'twas Rat workin' me out of four dollars worth of groceries + by water power.” + </p> + <p> + The collections, then, those from Mr. Young and his ilk excepted, were + satisfactory. Mary was enabled to buy and pay for a modest assortment of + summer supplies, those she had selected while in Boston. The store she had + thoroughly cleaned and renovated. The windows were kept filled with + attractive displays of goods, and the prices of these goods, as set forth + upon tickets, were attractive also. Business began to pick up, not a great + deal at first, but a little, and as May brought the first of the + early-bird summer cottagers to South Harniss, the silent partner of + Hamilton and Company awaited the coming of what should be the firm's + busiest season with hope and some confidence. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0021" id="link2HCH0021"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXI + </h2> + <p> + During all this time she had heard from Crawford at least once a week. He + would have written oftener than that, had she permitted it. And in spite + of her determination so bravely expressed in their interview over the + telephone, she had written him more than the one letter she had promised. + In that letter—her first—she told him the exact situation + there at home; of her discovery that her uncles were in trouble, that the + small, but to them precious, business they had conducted so long was in + danger, and of her determination to give up school and remain at South + Harniss where, she knew, she was needed. Then she went on to tell of her + still greater discovery, that instead of being a young woman of + independent means, she was and always had been dependent upon the bounty + of her uncles. + </p> + <p> + You can imagine how I felt when I learned this [she wrote], when I thought + of all the kindness I had accepted at their hands, accepted it almost as + if it was my right, thinking as I did that my own money paid. And now to + learn that all the time I had nothing and they had given of their own when + they had so little, and given it so cheerfully, so gladly. And, Crawford, + when I told them what I had done, they would not accept thanks, they would + not let me even speak of the great debt I owed them. So far from that they + acted as if they were the ones who owed and as if I had caught them in + some disgraceful act. Why, if they could, they would have sent me back to + Boston and to school, while they remained here to work and worry until the + bankruptcy they expected came. + </p> + <p> + Do you wonder that I feel my first and whole duty is to them and that + nothing, NOTHING must be permitted to interfere with it? I am going to + stay here and try to help. Perhaps I shall succeed, and perhaps, which is + just as probable, I may fail; but at any rate while my uncles live and + need me I shall not leave them. They gave all they had to me when there + was no real reason why they should give anything. The very least I can do + is to be with them and work for them now when they are growing old. + </p> + <p> + I am sure you must understand this and that, therefore, you will forget— + </p> + <p> + She paused. “Forget” was a hard word to write. Fortunately she had written + it at the top of a page, so she tore up that sheet and began the line + again. + </p> + <p> + I am sure you will understand and that you will see my duty as I see it + myself. It seems to me clear. Everyone has duties, I suppose, but you and + I have ours very plainly shown us, I think. Yours is to your father and + mine to my uncles. + </p> + <p> + Bringing that letter to an end was a difficult task. There were things + which must be said and they were so very hard to say. At last, after many + attempts: + </p> + <p> + I have not referred [she wrote] to what you said to me when we last met. + It seems almost useless to refer to it, doesn't it? You see how I am + placed here, and I have written you what I mean to do. And please + understand I am doing it gladly, I am happy in having the opportunity to + do it; but it does mean that for years my life and interest must be here + with them. Even if I were sure of my own feelings—and perhaps I am + not really sure—I certainly should not think of asking one I cared + for to wait so long. You have your future to think of, Crawford, and you + must think of it. And there is your father. Of course, I don't know, but I + somehow feel certain that he will not wish you to marry me. Don't you + think it better for us both to end it now? It seems so hopeless. + </p> + <p> + Which, she flattered herself, was brave and sensible and right. And, + having reached this commendable conclusion and sealed and posted the + letter, she came back to the house, went upstairs to her room, and, + throwing herself upon the bed, cried bitterly for many minutes. + </p> + <p> + Yet, in a way, her tears were wasted. It takes two to make a bargain and + although she might notify Crawford Smith that his case was hopeless, it by + no means followed that that young gentleman would accept the notification + as final. His reply to her letter was prompt and convincing. All the + references to ending it were calmly brushed aside. There could be but two + endings, one being their marriage—this, of course, the logical and + proper ending—and the other Mary's notifying him that she did not + love him. Anything else was nonsense and not worth consideration. Wait! He + would wait fifty years if necessary, provided she would wait for him. He + was about to take up his studies again, but now he would feel that he was + working for her. His father, he was sorry to say, was not at all well. He + was very nervous, weak and irritable. + </p> + <p> + I came home [he wrote] fully determined to tell him of you and my + determination to marry you—always provided you will have me, you + know—on the very night of my arrival. But when I saw how poor old + Dad was feeling and after the doctor told me how very necessary it was + that his nervous system be allowed a complete rest, I decided I must wait. + So I shall wait; perhaps I shall not tell him for months; but just as soon + as he is able to hear, I shall speak, and I am sure he will say, “Good + luck and God bless you.” But if he doesn't, it will make not the slightest + difference. If you will have me, Mary dear, nothing on this earth is going + to stop my having you. That's as settled and solid a fact as the Rocky + Mountains. + </p> + <p> + He pleaded for a letter at least once a week. + </p> + <p> + You needn't put a word of love in it [he wrote]. I know how conscientious + you are, and I know perfectly well that until your mind is made up you + won't feel it right to encourage me in the least. But do please write, if + only to tell me how you are getting on with Hamilton and Company. I only + wish I were there to help you pull those fine old uncles of yours out of + the hot water. I know you'll do it, though. And meanwhile I shall be + digging away out here and thinking of you. Please write OFTEN. + </p> + <p> + So Mary, after considerable thought and indecision, did write, although + Crawford's suggestion that her letters have no word of love in them was + scrupulously followed. And so, while the summer came and went, the letters + crossed and the news of the slow but certain building up of the business + of Hamilton and Company was exchanged for that of Edwin Smith's steady + regaining of health and strength. + </p> + <p> + And Hamilton and Company's business was reviving. Even the skeptics could + see the signs. The revival began before the summer residents arrived in + South Harniss, but after the latter began to come and the cottages to + open, it was on in earnest. John Keith helped to give it its first big + start. Mrs. Wyeth wrote him of Mary's leaving her school work to go to the + rescue of Shadrach and Zoeth, and the girl's pluck and uncomplaining + acceptance of the task she considered set for her made Keith's eyes + twinkle with admiration as he read the letter. The family came early to + South Harniss and this year he came with them. One of his first acts after + arrival was to stroll down to the village and enter Hamilton and Company's + store. Mary and the partners were there, of course. He shook hands with + them cordially. + </p> + <p> + “Well, Captain,” he said, addressing Shadrach, “how is the new hand taking + hold?” + </p> + <p> + Shadrach grinned. “Hand?” he repeated. “I don't know's we've got any new + hand, Mr. Keith. Ain't, have we, Zoeth?” + </p> + <p> + Zoeth did not recognize the joke. “He means Mary-'Gusta, I cal'late, + Shadrach,” he said. “She's doin' splendid, Mr. Keith. I don't know how we + ever got along without her.” + </p> + <p> + “I do,” put in his partner promptly; “we didn't, that's how. But, Mr. + Keith, you hadn't ought to call Mary-'Gusta a 'hand.' Zoeth and me are the + hands aboard this craft. She's skipper, and engineer, and purser, and—yes, + and pilot, too. And don't she make us tumble up lively when she whistles! + Whew! Don't talk!” + </p> + <p> + “She is the boss, then, is she?” observed Keith. + </p> + <p> + “Boss! I guess SO! She's got US trained! Why, I've got so that I jump out + of bed nights and run round the room in my sleep thinkin' she's just + hollered to me there's a customer waitin'. Oh, she's a hard driver, + Mary-'Gusta is. Never had a fust mate aboard drove harder'n she does. And + it's havin' its effect on us, too. Look at Zoeth! He's agin' fast; he's a + year older'n he was twelve months ago.” + </p> + <p> + Keith laughed, Mary smiled, and Mr. Hamilton, judging by the behavior of + the company that there was a joke somewhere on the premises, smiled too. + </p> + <p> + “You mustn't mind Uncle Shad, Mr. Keith,” said Mary. “He talks a great + deal.” + </p> + <p> + “Talkin's all the exercise my face gets nowadays,” declared the Captain + instantly. “She keeps me so busy I don't get time to eat. What do you + think of the store, Mr. Keith? Some improvement, ain't it?” + </p> + <p> + Keith, who had already noticed the trim appearance of the store and the + neat and attractive way in which the goods were displayed, expressed his + hearty approval. + </p> + <p> + “And how is business?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “Tiptop!” declared Shadrach. + </p> + <p> + “It's improvin' consider'ble,” said Zoeth. + </p> + <p> + “It is a little better, but it must be far better before I am satisfied,” + said Mary. + </p> + <p> + “How is the cottage trade?” asked Keith. + </p> + <p> + “Why, not so very good. There aren't many cottagers here yet.” + </p> + <p> + When Keith reached home he called his wife into consultation. + </p> + <p> + “Gertrude,” he asked, “where do we buy our household supplies, groceries + and the like?” + </p> + <p> + “In Boston, most of them. The others—those I am obliged to buy here + in South Harniss—at that new store, Baker's.” + </p> + <p> + “I want you to buy them all of Hamilton and Company hereafter.” + </p> + <p> + “THAT old-fogy place! Why?” + </p> + <p> + “Because the partners, Captain Gould and the other old chap, are having a + hard struggle to keep going and I want to help them.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Keith tossed her head. “Humph!” she sniffed. “I know why you are so + interested. It is because of that upstart girl you think is so wonderful, + the one who has been boarding with Clara Wyeth.” + </p> + <p> + “You're right, that's just it. She has given up her studies and her + opportunities there in Boston and has come down here to help her uncles. + Clara writes me that she was popular there in the school, that the best + people were her friends, and you know of her summer in Europe with Letitia + Pease. Letitia isn't easy to please and she is enthusiastic about Mary + Lathrop. No ordinary girl could give up all that sort of thing and come + back to the village where everyone knows her and go to keeping store + again, and do it so cheerfully and sensibly and without a word of + complaint. She deserves all the help and support we and our friends can + give her. I mean to see that she has it.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Keith looked disgusted. “You're perfectly infatuated with that girl, + John Keith,” she said. “It is ridiculous. If I were like some women I + should be jealous.” + </p> + <p> + “If I were like some men you might be. Now, Gertrude, you'll buy in future + from Hamilton and Company, won't you?” + </p> + <p> + “I suppose so. When your chin sets that way I know you're going to be + stubborn and I may as well give in first as last. I'll patronize your + precious Mary-'Gusta, but I WON'T associate with her. You needn't ask + that.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't you think we might wait until she asks it first?” + </p> + <p> + “Tut! tut! Really, John, you disgust me. I wonder you don't order Sam to + marry her.” + </p> + <p> + “From what Clara writes he might not have needed any orders if he had + received the least encouragement from her. Sam might do worse; I imagine + he probably will.” + </p> + <p> + So, because John Keith's chin was set, the Keith custom shifted to + Hamilton and Company. And because the Keiths were wealthy and influential, + and because the head of the family saw that that influence was brought to + bear upon his neighbors and acquaintances, their custom followed. Hamilton + and Company put a delivery wagon—a secondhand one—out on the + road, and hired a distinctly secondhand boy to drive it. And Mary and + Shadrach and Zoeth and, in the evenings, the boy as well, were kept busy + waiting on customers. The books showed, since the silent partner took + hold, a real and tangible profit, and the collection and payment of old + debts went steadily on. + </p> + <p> + The partners, Shadrach and Zoeth, were no longer silent and glum. The + Captain whistled and sang and was in high spirits most of the time. At + home he was his old self, chaffing Isaiah about the housekeeping, taking a + mischievous delight in shocking his friend and partner by irreverent + remarks concerning Jonah or some other Old Testament personage, and + occasionally, although not often, throwing out a sly hint to Mary about + the frequency of letters from the West. Mary had told her uncles of + Crawford's leaving Boston and returning to Nevada because of his father's + ill health. The only item of importance she had omitted to tell was that + of the proposal of marriage. She could not speak of that even to them. + They would ask what her answer was to be, and if she loved Crawford. How + could she answer that—truthfully—without causing them to feel + that they were blocking her way to happiness? They felt that quite keenly + enough, as it was. + </p> + <p> + So when Captain Shad declared the illness of the South Harniss postmaster—confined + to his bed with sciatica—to be due to his having “stooped to pick up + one of them eighty-two page Wild West letters of yours, Mary-'Gusta, and + 'twas so heavy he sprained his back liftin' it,” Mary only laughed and + ventured the opinion that the postmaster's sprained back, if he had one, + was more likely due to a twist received in trying to read both sides of a + postcard at once. Which explanation, being of the Captain's own brand of + humor, pleased the latter immensely. + </p> + <p> + “Maybe you're right, Mary-'Gusta,” he chuckled. “Maybe that's what 'twas. + Seth [the postmaster] is pure rubber so far as other folks' mail is + concerned; maybe he stretched the rubber too far this time and it + snapped.” + </p> + <p> + Zoeth did not joke much—joking was not in his line—but he + showed his relief at the improvement in the firm's affairs in quieter but + as unmistakable ways. When Mary was at the desk in the evenings after the + store had closed, busy with the books, he would come and sit beside her, + saying little but occasionally laying his hand gently on her shoulder or + patting her arm and regarding her with a look so brimful of love and + gratitude that it made her feel almost guilty and entirely unworthy. + </p> + <p> + “Don't, Uncle Zoeth,” she protested, on one such occasion. “Don't look at + me like that. I—I—Really, you make me feel ashamed. I haven't + done anything. I am not doing half enough.” + </p> + <p> + He shook his head. + </p> + <p> + “You're doin' too much, I'm afraid, Mary-'Gusta,” he said. “You're givin' + up everything a girl like you had ought to have and that your Uncle + Shadrach and I had meant you should have. You're givin' it up just for us + and it ain't right. We ain't worthy of it.” + </p> + <p> + “Hush, hush, Uncle Zoeth! Please! When I think what you have given up for + me—” + </p> + <p> + “'Twa'n't nothin', Mary-'Gusta. You came to your Uncle Shadrach and to me + just when we needed somethin' to keep our lives sweet. Mine especial was + bitter and there was danger 'twould always be so. And then we brought you + over from Ostable in the old buggy and—and the Almighty's sunshine + came with you. You was His angel. Yes, sir! His angel, that's what you + was, only we didn't know it then. I was pretty sore and bitter in those + days, thought I never could forget. And yet—and yet, now I really am + forgettin'—or, if I don't forget, I'm more reconciled. And you've + done it for me, Mary-'Gusta.” + </p> + <p> + Mary was puzzled. “Forget what?” she asked. “Do you mean the business + troubles, Uncle Zoeth?” + </p> + <p> + Zoeth seemed to waken from a sort of dream. “Business troubles?” he + repeated. “No, no; long, long afore that these troubles were, Mary-'Gusta. + Don't let's talk about 'em. I can't talk about 'em even now—and I + mustn't think. There are some troubles that—that—” He caught + his breath and his tone changed. “I called you an angel just now, dearie,” + he went on. “Well, you was and you are. There are angels in this world—but + there's devils, too—there's devils, too. There; the Lord forgive me! + What am I talkin' about? We'll forget what's gone and be thankful for + what's here. Give your old uncle a kiss, Mary-'Gusta.” + </p> + <p> + He was happy in Mary's society and happy in the steady improvement of the + business, but the girl and Captain Shadrach were a little worried + concerning his general health. For years he had not been a very strong or + active man, but now he looked paler and more frail than ever. He walked to + and from the store and house several times a day, but he retired almost as + soon as he entered the house at night and his appetite was not good. + </p> + <p> + “His nerves ain't back where they'd ought to be,” declared Shadrach. “He + was awful shook up when it looked as if Hamilton and Company was goin' to + founder. He didn't keep blowin' off steam about it the way I did—my + safety-valve's always open—but he kept it all inside his biler and + it's put his engine out of gear. He'll get along all right so long's it's + smooth sailin', but what I'm afraid of is a rock showin' up in the channel + unexpected. The doctor told me that Zoeth mustn't worry any more and he + mustn't work too hard. More'n all, he mustn't have any scares or shocks or + anything like that.” + </p> + <p> + “We must try to see that he doesn't have any,” said Mary. + </p> + <p> + “Sartin sure we must, but you can't always see those things in time to + head 'em off. Now take my own case. I had a shock this mornin'. 'Rastus + Young paid me a dollar on account.” + </p> + <p> + “WHAT? 'Rastus Young PAID you?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I don't know's he paid it, exactly. He borrowed the dollar of one + of those summer fellers over at Cahoon's boardin' house and he was tellin' + Ab Bacheldor about it at the corner by the post-office. Ab, naturally, + didn't believe any sane man would lend Rastus anything, so he wanted + proof. 'Rastus hauled the dollar out of his pocket to show, and I who + happened to be standin' behind 'em without their knowin' it reached out + and grabbed it.” + </p> + <p> + “You did? Why, Uncle Shad!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. I told 'Rastus I'd credit his account with it, but I don't know's I + hadn't ought to give it back to the summer feller. Anyhow, gettin' it was + a shock, same as I said at the beginnin'. 'Rastus says he's goin' to sue + me. I told him I'd have sued HIM long ago if I'd supposed he could STEAL a + dollar, let alone borrow one.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0022" id="link2HCH0022"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXII + </h2> + <p> + It was late in August when Mary received the letter from Crawford in which + he told of his determination to wait no longer but to tell his father of + his love for her. Edwin Smith was much better. By way of proof, his son + inclosed a photograph which he had taken of his father sitting beneath a + tree on the lawn of their home. The picture showed Mr. Smith without his + beard, which had been shaved off during his illness. Either this or the + illness itself had changed him a great deal. He looked thinner and, which + was odd under the circumstances, younger. Mary, looking at this + photograph, felt more than ever the impossible conviction that somewhere + or other at some time in her life she must have met Mr. Edwin Smith. + </p> + <p> + So, in my next letter [wrote Crawford], I shall have news to tell. And I + am sure it will be good news. “Ask your father first,” you said. Of course + you remember that, and I have remembered it every moment since. Now I am + going to ask him. After that you will give me your answer, won't you? And + it can't be anything but yes, because I won't let it be. + </p> + <p> + What Mary's feelings were when she received this letter, whether or not + she slept as soundly that night and other nights immediately following, + whether or not the sight of Isaiah returning from the post-office at mail + times caused her breath to come a little quicker and her nerves to thrill—these + are questions the answers to which must be guessed. Suffice it to say that + she manifested no marked symptoms of impatience and anxiety during that + week and when at last Isaiah handed her another letter postmarked Carson + City the trembling of the hand which received it was so slight as to be + unnoticed by Mr. Chase. + </p> + <p> + She put aside the letter until that night when she was alone in her room. + Then she opened it and read what Crawford had written. His father had not + only refused consent to his son's contemplated marriage but had manifested + such extraordinary agitation and such savage and unreasonable obstinacy + that Crawford was almost inclined to believe his parent's recent illness + had affected his mind. + </p> + <p> + That is the only explanation I can think of [he wrote]. It seems as if he + must be insane. And yet he seemed rational enough at the beginning of our + first interview and during most of the second. Even when I had broken the + news that there was a girl in whom I felt an especial interest he did not + show any sign of the outbreak that came afterward. It wasn't until I began + to tell how I first met you there at South Harniss, who you were, and + about Captain Gould and Mr. Hamilton, that I noticed he was acting + queerly. I was head over heels in my story, trying to make plain how + desperate my case was and doing my best to make him appreciate how + tremendously lucky his son was to have even a glimmer of a chance to get a + girl like you for a wife, when I heard him make an odd noise in his + throat. I looked up—I don't know where I had been looking before—certainly + not at him—and there he was, leaning back in his chair, his face as + white as his collar, and waving a hand at me. I thought he was choking, or + was desperately ill or something, and I sprang toward him, but he waved me + back. “Stop! Wait!” he said, or stammered, or choked; it was more like a + croak than a human voice. “Don't come here! Let me be! What are you trying + to tell me? Who—who is this girl?” I asked him what was the matter—his + manner and his look frightened me—but he wouldn't answer, kept + ordering me to tell him again who you were. So I did tell him that you + were the daughter of the Reverend Charles Lathrop and Augusta Lathrop, and + of your mother's second marriage to Captain Marcellus Hall. “But he died + when she was seven years old,” I went on, “and since that time she has + been living with her guardians, the two fine old fellows who adopted her, + Captain Shadrach Gould and Zoeth Hamilton. They live at South Harniss on + Cape Cod.” I had gotten no further than this when he interrupted me. “She—she + has been living with Zoeth Hamilton?” he cried. “With Zoeth Hamilton! Oh, + my God! Did—did Zoeth Hamilton send you to me?” Yes, that is exactly + what he said: “Did Zoeth Hamilton send you to me?” I stared at him. “Why, + no, Dad,” I said, as soon as I could say anything. “Of course he didn't. I + have met Mr. Hamilton but once in my life. What IS the matter? Sit down + again. Don't you think I had better call the doctor?” I thought surely his + brain was going. But no, he wouldn't answer or listen. Instead he looked + at me with the wildest, craziest expression and said: “Did Zoeth Hamilton + tell you?” “He told me nothing, Dad,” I said, as gently as I could. “Of + course he didn't. I am almost a stranger to him. Besides, what in the + world was there to tell? I came to you because I had something to tell. I + mean to marry Mary Lathrop, if she will have me—” I got no further + than that. “No!” he fairly screamed. “No! No! No! Oh, my God, no!” And + then the doctor came running in, we got Dad to bed, and it was all over + for that day, except that I naturally was tremendously upset and + conscience-stricken. I could see that the doctor thought I was to blame, + that I had confessed something or other—something criminal, I + imagine he surmised—to Dad and that it had knocked the poor old chap + over. And I couldn't explain, because what I had told him was not for + outsiders to hear. + </p> + <p> + Well, after a terribly anxious night and a worrisome forenoon the doctor + told me that father was himself again and wanted to see me at once. “I've + said all I can against it,” said the doctor. “I don't know what sort of + rumpus you two had yesterday, but it came dangerously near being the + finish for him. And it must not be repeated; I'm making that as emphatic + as I can.” I assured him that so far as I was concerned there would not be + a scene, and then went in to Dad's room. He looked white enough and sick + enough but he was rational and his mind was keen and clear. He got me to + tell the whole story about you all over again and he asked a lot of + questions; in fact, he cross-examined me pretty thoroughly. When I had + finished his tone was calm, but I noticed that his hand was shaking and he + seemed to be holding himself in. “And so you think you want to marry this + down-east country girl, do you?” he said. “I certainly do,” said I. He + laughed, a forced laugh—didn't sound like his at all—and he + said: “Well, my boy, you'll get over it. It's a whole lot better to get + over it now than to do so by and by when it's too late. It's a good thing + I called you home when I did. You stay here and keep on with your studies + and I'll keep on getting into shape again. By next summer, when we go on + our fishing trip, you'll have forgotten all about your Down-Easter.” Well, + THAT was a staggerer, coming from him. It didn't sound like him at all, + and again I had that feeling that his mind was going. You see, Mary, I + never asked Dad for anything I didn't get—never. Now, I wasn't + asking, I was just telling him what I had made up my mind to have, and he + treated me this way. I answered him calmly and quietly, telling him I was + serious and what you meant to me. He wouldn't listen at first; then when + he did, he wouldn't agree. Pleaded with me—he was lonesome, I was + his only son, he needed me, he couldn't share me with anyone else, and so + on. There is no use going into all the details. We didn't get any nearer + an agreement, we did get nearer and nearer to bad temper on my part and + shouts and hysterics on his. So I left him, Mary. That was last night. I + knew Dad was inclined to be stubborn, and I knew he had strong prejudices, + but I never imagined he could behave like this to me. And I am sure he + would not if he were himself. So I shall say no more to him on the subject + for a day or two. Then, when he is better, as I am hoping he may be soon, + he and I will have another talk. But understand, Mary dear, my mind was + made up before I spoke to him at all. What he says or what he does will + make no difference, so far as you and I are concerned. I know you are a + believer in duty; well, so am I. I would stick by Dad through thick and + thin. If I knew he was right in asking me to do or not to do a thing, even + if I knew he had been wrong in asking other things, I would stick by him + and try to do as he asked. But not this. I love Dad, God knows I do, but I + love you, Mary, and as I have vowed to myself every day since I last saw + you, I am going to marry you if you will only have me. As for Dad—well, + we'll hope within a day or two I may have better news to write. + </p> + <p> + Mary read and reread the long letter. Then she leaned back in her chair + and with the letter in her lap sat there—thinking. She had been + right in her forebodings; it was as she had expected, had foreseen: Edwin + Smith, man of affairs, wealthy, arbitrary, eccentric, accustomed to having + his own way and his prejudices, however absurd, respected—a man with + an only son for whom, doubtless, plans definite and ambitious had been + made, could not be expected calmly to permit the upsetting of those plans + by his boy's marriage to a poor “Down-Easter.” So much she had foreseen + from the first, and she had never shared Crawford's absolute confidence in + his parent's acquiescence. She had been prepared, therefore, to read that + Mr. Smith had refused his consent. + </p> + <p> + But to be prepared for a probability and to face a certainty are quite + different. It was the certainty she was facing now. Unless Mr. Smith + changed his mind, and the chances were ten to one against that, he and his + son would quarrel. Crawford had inherited a portion of his father's + stubbornness; he was determined, she knew. He loved her and he meant what + he said—if she would have him he would marry her in spite of his + father. It made her proud and happy to know that. But she, too, was + resolute and had meant what she said. She would not be the cause of a + separation between father and son. And, besides, marriage had become for + her a matter of the distant future; for the present her task was set there + at South Harniss. + </p> + <p> + What should she do? It was hard for Crawford, poor fellow. Yes, but it was + hard for her, too. No one but she knew how hard. He would write her again + telling her that his decision was unchanged, begging her to say she loved + him, pleading with her to wait for him. And she would wait—Oh, how + gladly, how joyfully she could wait—for him!—if she knew she + was doing right in permitting him to wait for her. If she was sure that in + permitting him to give up his father's love and his home and money and all + that money could buy she was justified. There is a love which asks and a + love which gives without asking return; the latter is the greater love and + it was hers. She had written Crawford that perhaps she was not sure of her + feeling toward him. That was not true. She was sure; but because she was + fearful that his knowledge might be the means of entailing a great + sacrifice on his part, she would not tell him. + </p> + <p> + What should she do? She considered, as the little Mary-'Gusta used to + consider her small problems in that very room. And the result of her + considerations was rather unsatisfactory. There was nothing she could do + now, nothing but wait until she heard again from Crawford. Then she would + write. + </p> + <p> + She brushed her eyes with her handkerchief and read the letter again. + There were parts of it which she could not understand. She was almost + inclined to adopt Crawford's suggestion that his father's mind might have + been affected by his illness. Why had he received so passively the news + that his son had fallen in love and yet become so violent when told the + object of that love? He did not know her, Mary Lathrop; there could be no + personal quality in his objection. And what could he have meant by asking + if Zoeth Hamilton had sent Crawford to him? That was absolutely absurd. + Zoeth, and Shadrach, too, had talked with Mary of Crawford's people in the + West, but merely casually, as of complete strangers, which, of course, + they were. It was all strange, but explainable if one considered that Mr. + Smith was weak and ill and, perhaps, flighty. She must not think any more + about it now—that is, she must try not to think. She must not give + way, and above all she must not permit her uncles to suspect that she was + troubled. She must try hard to put it from her mind until Crawford's next + letter came. + </p> + <p> + But that letter did not come. The week passed, then another, but there was + no word from Crawford. Mary's anxiety grew. Each day as Isaiah brought the + mail she expected him to give her an envelope addressed in the familiar + handwriting, but he did not. She was growing nervous—almost fearful. + And then came a happening the shock of which drove everything else from + her mind for the time and substituted for that fear another. + </p> + <p> + It was a Tuesday and one o'clock. Mary and Captain Shadrach, having had an + early dinner, had returned to the store. Zoeth, upon their arrival, went + down to the house for his own meal. Business, which had been very good + indeed, was rather slack just then and Shadrach and Mary were talking + together. Suddenly they heard the sound of rapid footsteps in the lane + outside. + </p> + <p> + “Who's hoofin' it up to the main road at that rate?” demanded the Captain, + lounging lazily toward the window. “Has the town pump got on fire or is + somebody goin' for the doctor?” + </p> + <p> + He leaned forward to look. His laziness vanished. + </p> + <p> + “Eh! Jumpin' Judas!” he cried, springing to the door. “It's Isaiah, and + runnin' as if the Old Boy was after him! Here! You! Isaiah! What's the + matter?” + </p> + <p> + Isaiah pounded up the platform steps and staggered against the doorpost. + His face flamed so red that, as Shadrach said afterward, it was “a wonder + the perspiration didn't bile.” + </p> + <p> + “I—I—I—” he stammered. “I—Oh, dear me! What shall + I do? He—he—he's there on the floor and—and—Oh, my + godfreys! I'm all out of wind! What SHALL I do?” + </p> + <p> + “Talk!” roared the Captain. “Talk! Use what wind you've got for that! + What's happened? Sing out!” + </p> + <p> + “He's—he's all alone there!” panted Mr. Chase. “He won't speak, + scurcely—only moans. I don't know's he ain't dead!” + </p> + <p> + “Who's dead? Who? Who? Who?” The irate Shadrach seized his steward by the + collar and shook him, not too gently. “Who's dead?” he bellowed. “Somebody + will be next door to dead right here in a minute if you don't speak up + instead of snortin' like a puffin' pig. What's happened?” + </p> + <p> + Isaiah swallowed, gasped and waved a desperate hand. “Let go of me!” he + protested. “Zoeth—he—he's down in a heap on the kitchen floor. + He's had a—a stroke or somethin'.” + </p> + <p> + “God A'mighty!” cried Shadrach, and bolted out of the door. Mary followed + him and a moment later, Mr. Chase followed her. The store was left to take + care of itself. + </p> + <p> + They found poor Zoeth not exactly in a heap on the floor of the kitchen, + but partially propped against one of the kitchen chairs. He was not + unconscious but could speak only with difficulty. They carried him to the + bedroom and Isaiah was sent on another gallop after the doctor. When the + latter came he gave his patient a thorough examination and emerged from + the sickroom looking grave. + </p> + <p> + “You must get a nurse,” he said. “This is likely to last a long while. It + is a slight paralytic stroke, I should say, though what brought it on I + haven't the least idea. Has Mr. Hamilton had any sudden shock or fright or + anything of that sort?” + </p> + <p> + He had not, so far as anyone knew. Isaiah, being questioned, told of + Zoeth's coming in for dinner and of his—Isaiah's—handing him + the morning's mail. + </p> + <p> + “I fetched it myself down from the post-office,” said Isaiah. “There was a + couple of Hamilton and Company letters and the Wellmouth Register and one + of them circulum advertisements about So-and-So's horse liniment, and, and—yes, + seems to me there was a letter for Zoeth himself. He took 'em all and sot + down in the kitchen to look 'em over. I went into the dinin'-room. Next + thing I knew I heard him say, 'O God!' just like that.” + </p> + <p> + “Avast heavin', Isaiah!” put in Captain Shadrach. “You're way off your + course. Zoeth never said that. That's the way I talk, but he don't.” + </p> + <p> + “He done it this time,” persisted Isaiah. “I turned and looked through the + doorway at him and he was standin' in the middle of the kitchen floor. + Seems to me he had a piece of white paper in his hand—seem's if he + did. And then, afore I could say a word, he kind of groaned and sunk down + in—in a pile, as you might say, right on the floor. And I couldn't + get him up, nor get him to speak to me, nor nothin'. Yet he must have come + to enough to move after I left and to crawl acrost and lean against that + chair.” + </p> + <p> + The horse liniment circular and the Wellmouth Register were there on the + kitchen table just where Mr. Hamilton had laid them. There, also, were the + two letters addressed to Hamilton and Company. Of the letter which Isaiah + seemed to remember as addressed to Zoeth personally, there was no sign. + </p> + <p> + “Are you sure there was such a letter, Isaiah?” asked Mary. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Chase was not sure; that is to say, he was not sure more than a minute + at a time. The minute following he was inclined to think he might have + been mistaken, perhaps it was yesterday or the day before or even last + week that his employer received such a letter. + </p> + <p> + Captain Shadrach lost patience. + </p> + <p> + “Sure 'twan't last Thanksgivin'?” he demanded. “Are you sure about + anything? Are you sure how old you are?” + </p> + <p> + “No, by godfreys, I ain't!” roared Isaiah in desperation. “I'm so upsot + ever since I looked into that kitchen and see the poor soul down on the + floor there that—that all I'm sure of is that I ain't sure of + nothin.'” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I don't know's I blame you much, Isaiah,” grunted the Captain. + “Anyway, it doesn't make much difference about that letter, so fur as I + see, whether there was one or not. What did you want to know for, Mary?” + </p> + <p> + Mary hesitated. “Why,” she answered, “I—perhaps it is foolish, but + the doctor said something about a shock being responsible for this + dreadful thing and I didn't know—I thought perhaps there might have + been something in that letter which shocked or alarmed Uncle Zoeth. Of + course it isn't probable that there was.” + </p> + <p> + Shadrach shook his head. + </p> + <p> + “I guess not,” he said. “I can't think of any letter he'd get of that + kind. There's nobody to write it. He ain't got any relations nigher than + third cousin, Zoeth ain't. Anyhow, we mustn't stop to guess riddles now. + I'll hunt up the letter by and by, if there was one and I happen to think + of it. Now I've got to hunt up a nurse.” + </p> + <p> + The nurse was found, a Mrs. Deborah Atkins, of Ostable, and she arrived + that night, bag and baggage, and took charge of the patient. Deborah was + not ornamental, being elderly and, as Captain Shadrach said, built for + tonnage more than speed; but she was sensible and capable. Also, her fee + was not excessive, although that was by no means the principal reason for + her selection. + </p> + <p> + “Never mind what it costs,” said Mary. “Get the best you can. It's for + Uncle Zoeth, remember.” + </p> + <p> + Shadrach's voice shook a little as he answered. + </p> + <p> + “I ain't likely to forget,” he said. “Zoeth and I've cruised together for + a good many years and if one of us has to go under I'd rather 'twas me. I + haven't got much money but what I've got is his, and after that so long as + I can get trusted. But there,” with an attempt at optimism, “don't you + fret, Mary-'Gusta. Nobody's goin' under yet. We'll have Zoeth up on deck + doin' the fishers' hornpipe in a couple of weeks.” + </p> + <p> + But it was soon plain to everyone, the Captain included, that many times + two weeks must elapse before Mr. Hamilton would be able to appear on deck + again, to say nothing of dancing hornpipes. For days he lay in partial + coma, rallying occasionally and speaking at rare intervals but evidently + never fully aware of where he was and what had happened. + </p> + <p> + “He will recover, I think,” said the doctor, “but it will be a slow job.” + </p> + <p> + Mary did not again refer to the letter regarding which Isaiah's memory was + so befogged. In fact, she forgot it entirely. So also did Captain Shad. + For both the worry of Zoeth's illness and the care of the store were + sufficient to drive trifles from their minds. + </p> + <p> + And for Mary there was another trouble, one which she must keep to + herself. Three weeks had elapsed since Crawford's letter, that telling of + his two fateful interviews with his father, and still no word had come + from him. Mary could not understand his silence. In vain she called her + philosophy to her rescue, striving to think that after all it was best if + she never heard from him again, best that a love affair which could never + end happily were ended at once, best that he should come to see the + question as his father saw it—best for him, that is, for his future + would then be one of ease and happiness. All this she thought—and + then found herself wondering why he had not written, imagining all sorts + of direful happenings and feeling herself responsible. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0023" id="link2HCH0023"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXIII + </h2> + <p> + One evening, about a week after Mr. Hamilton's sudden seizure, Mary was in + her room alone. She had again reread Crawford's latest letter and was + sitting there trying to imagine the scene as he had described it. She was + trying to picture Edwin Smith, the man who—as his son had so often + told her—indulged that son's every whim, was kindness and parental + love personified, and yet had raved and stormed like a madman because the + boy wished to marry her, Mary Lathrop. + </p> + <p> + She rose, opened the drawer of her bureau, and took out the photograph of + Mr. Smith, the one which showed him without his beard, the one taken since + his illness. Crawford had written that this photograph, too, had been + taken on the sly. + </p> + <p> + “Dad's prejudice against photos is as keen as ever,” he wrote. “He would + slaughter me on the spot if he knew I had snapped him.” + </p> + <p> + The face in the picture was not that of the savage, unrelenting parent of + the old plays, who used to disinherit his sons and drive his daughters out + into blinding snowstorms because they dared thwart his imperial will. + Edwin Smith was distinctly a handsome man, gray-haired, of course, and + strong-featured, but with a kind rather than a stern expression. As Mary + had said when she first saw his likeness, he looked as if he might have + had experiences. In this photograph he looked very grave, almost sad, but + possibly that was because of his recent sickness. + </p> + <p> + She was looking at the picture when Isaiah's voice was heard outside the + door. + </p> + <p> + “Hi, Mary-'Gusta,” whispered Mr. Chase. “Ain't turned in yet, have you? + Can I speak with you a minute?” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly, Isaiah,” said Mary. “Come in!” + </p> + <p> + Isaiah entered. “'Twan't nothin' special,” he said. “I was just goin' to + tell you that Debby T. cal'lates Zoeth is a little mite easier tonight. + She just said so and I thought you'd like to know.” + </p> + <p> + By “Debby T.” Isaiah meant Mrs. Atkins. Mary understood. + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, Isaiah,” she said. “I am ever so glad to hear it. Thank you + for telling me.” + </p> + <p> + “That's all right, Mary-'Gusta. Hello! who's tintype's that?” + </p> + <p> + He had caught sight of the photograph upon the arm of Mary's chair. He + picked it up and looked at it. She heard him gasp. Turning, she saw him + staring at the photograph with an expression of absolute amazement—amazement + and alarm. + </p> + <p> + “Why, Isaiah!” she cried. “What is the matter?” + </p> + <p> + Isaiah, not taking his eyes from the picture, extended it in one hand and + pointed to it excitedly with the other. + </p> + <p> + “For godfreys mighty sakes!” he demanded. “Where did you get that?” + </p> + <p> + “Get what? The photograph?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes! Yes, yes! Where'd you get it? Where'd it come from?” + </p> + <p> + “It was sent to me. What of it? What is the matter?” + </p> + <p> + Isaiah answered neither question. He seemed to have heard only the first + sentence. + </p> + <p> + “SENT to you!” he repeated. “Mary-'Gusta Lathrop, have you been tryin' to + find out—Look here! who sent you Ed Farmer's picture?” + </p> + <p> + Mary stared at him. “WHOSE picture?” she said. “What are you talking + about, Isaiah?” + </p> + <p> + Isaiah thrust the photograph still closer to the end of her nose. Also he + continued to point at it. + </p> + <p> + “Who sent you Ed Farmer's picture?” he repeated. “Where—where'd you + get it? You tell me, now.” + </p> + <p> + Mary looked him over from head to foot. + </p> + <p> + “I don't know whether to send for Uncle Shad or the doctor,” she said, + slowly. “If you don't stop hopping up and down and waving your arms as if + they worked by strings I shall probably send for both. Isaiah Chase, + behave yourself! What is the matter with you?” + </p> + <p> + Isaiah, during his years as sea cook, had learned to obey orders. Mary's + tone had its effect upon him. He dropped one hand, but he still held the + photograph in the other. And he stared at it as if it possessed some sort + of horrible charm which frightened and fascinated at the same time. Mary + had never seen him so excited. + </p> + <p> + “Ed Farmer!” he exclaimed. “Oh, I swan to man! I don't see how—Say, + it IS him, ain't it, Mary-'Gusta? But of course 'tis! I can see 'tis with + my own eyes. My godfreys mighty!” + </p> + <p> + Mary shook her head. “If I didn't know you were a blue ribboner, Isaiah,” + she said, “I should be suspicious. That photograph was sent me from the + West. It is a picture of a gentleman named Edwin Smith, someone I have + never seen and I'm perfectly sure you never have. Why in the world it + should make you behave as if you needed a strait-jacket I can't see. Does + Mr. Smith resemble someone you know?” + </p> + <p> + Isaiah's mouth fell open and remained so as he gazed first at the + photograph and then at her. + </p> + <p> + “Ed—Edwin Smith,” he repeated. “Edwin Smith! I—I don't know no + Edwin Smith. Look here, now; honest, Mary-'Gusta, AIN'T that a picture of + Ed Farmer?” + </p> + <p> + Mary laughed. “Of course it isn't,” she said. “Who is Ed Farmer, pray?” + </p> + <p> + Isaiah did not answer. He was holding the photograph near the end of his + own nose now and examining it with eager scrutiny, muttering comments as + he did so. + </p> + <p> + “If it ain't him it's a better picture than if 'twas,” was one of his + amazing observations. “Don't seem as if two folks could look so much alike + and not be. And yet—and yet I can see—I can see now—this + feller's hair's pretty nigh white and Ed's was dark brown. But then if + this feller was Ed he'd be—he'd be—let's see—he'd be all + of thirty-five years older than he was thirty-five years ago and that + would account—” + </p> + <p> + Mary burst out laughing. + </p> + <p> + “Do be still, Isaiah!” she broke in. “You are perfectly idiotic. That + man's name is Smith, I tell you.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Chase heaved a sigh. “You're sartin 'tis?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “Of course I am.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, then I cal'late it must be. But if Ed Farmer had lived all these + years and had had his tintype took he wouldn't get one to favor him more + than that does, I bet you. My, it give me a start, comin' onto me so + unexpected!” + </p> + <p> + “But who is Ed Farmer?” asked Mary. The name had meant nothing to her so + far. And yet, even as she spoke she remembered. Her expression changed. + </p> + <p> + “Do you mean—” she cried, eagerly. “Why, Isaiah, do you mean the man + in that old photograph I found in the garret ever and ever so long ago? + The one you told me was a—a blackguard?” + </p> + <p> + Isaiah, still staring at Mr. Smith's likeness, answered emphatically. + </p> + <p> + “That's the one,” he said. “That's the one I meant. My, this feller does + look like him, or the way I cal'late he would look if he lived as long as + this!” + </p> + <p> + “Is he dead, then?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know. We don't any of us know around here. I ain't laid eyes on + him since the day afore it happened. I remember just as well as if 'twas + yesterday. He come out of the office onto the wharf where I was workin' + and he says to me, 'Isaiah,' he says, knockin' on the head of a barrel + with his hand—the right hand 'twas, the one that had the bent + finger; he got it smashed under a hogshead of salt one time and it never + came straight again—'Isaiah,' says he, 'it's a nice day, ain't it.' + And I answered up prompt—I liked him fust-rate; everybody liked him + them days—'Yes, sir,' I says, 'this is a good enough day to go see + your best girl in.' I never meant nothin' by it, you understand, just a + sayin' 'twas, but it seemed to give him a kind of start. He looked at me + hard. 'Did anyone tell you where I was goin'?' says he, sharp. 'Why, no,' + says I. 'Why should they?' He didn't answer, just kept on starin' at me. + Then he laughed and walked away. I didn't know where he was goin' then, + but I know now, darn him! And the next day he went—for good.” + </p> + <p> + He stopped speaking. Mary waited a moment and then asked, quietly: “Went + where, Isaiah? Where did he go?” + </p> + <p> + Isaiah, who was standing, the photograph still in his hand, started, + turned and looked at her. + </p> + <p> + “What's that?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “I say, where did this Mr. Farmer go?” + </p> + <p> + “Eh? Oh, I don't know. He went away, that's all. Don't ask me any more + questions. I've been talkin' too much, anyhow, I cal'late. Cap'n Shad + would skin me alive if he knew I'd said as much as I have. Say, + Mary-'Gusta, don't you say nothin' to either him or Zoeth, will you? You + see—it's—it's a kind of little secret we have amongst us and—and + nobody else is in on it. 'Twas this plaguey tintype got me to talkin'. No + wonder neither! I never see such a look on two folks. I—there, + there! Good night, Mary-'Gusta, good night.” + </p> + <p> + He tossed the photograph on the bureau and hurried out of the room. Mary + called after him, but he would neither stop nor answer. + </p> + <p> + After he had gone Mary took up the photograph, seated herself once more in + the chair, and studied the picture for a long time. Then she rose and, + lamp in hand, left the room, tiptoed along the hall past the door of + Captain Shadrach's room, and up the narrow stairs to the attic, her old + playground. + </p> + <p> + Her playthings were there still, arranged in her customary orderly fashion + along the walls. Rose and Rosette and Minnehaha and the other dolls were + seated in their chairs or the doll carriage or with their backs against + Shadrach's old sea chest. She had never put them away out of sight. + Somehow it seemed more like home to her, the knowledge that though she + would never play with them again, they were there waiting for her in their + old places. While she was away at school they had been covered from the + dust by a cloth, but now the cloth had been taken away and she herself + dusted them every other morning before going up to the store. As Shadrach + said, no one but Mary-'Gusta would ever have thought of doing such a + thing. She did, because she WAS Mary-'Gusta. + </p> + <p> + However, the dolls did not interest her now. She tiptoed across the garret + floor, taking great care to avoid the boards which creaked most, and + lifted the lid of the old trunk which she had first opened on that + Saturday afternoon nearly ten years before. She found the pocket on the + under side of the lid, opened it and inserted her hand. Yes, the + photograph of Hall and Company was still there, she could feel the edge of + it with her fingers. + </p> + <p> + She took it out, and closed the pocket and then the trunk, and tiptoed + down the stairs and to her room again. She closed the door, locked it—something + she had never done in her life before—and placing the photograph she + had taken from the trunk beside that sent her by Crawford, sat down to + compare them. + </p> + <p> + And as she looked at the two photographs her wonder at Isaiah's odd + behavior ceased. It was not strange that when he saw Mr. Edwin Smith's + likeness he was astonished; it was not remarkable that he could scarcely + be convinced the photograph was not that of the mysterious Ed Farmer. For + here in the old, yellow photograph of the firm of “Hall and Company, + Wholesale Fish Dealers,” was Edgar S. Farmer, and here in the photograph + sent her by Crawford was Edwin Smith. And save that Edgar S. Farmer was a + young man and Edwin Smith a man in the middle sixties, they were almost + identical in appearance. Each time she had seen Mr. Smith's photograph she + had felt certain she must have met the original. Here was the reason—this + man in the other photograph. The only difference was the difference of + age. Edwin Smith had a nose like Edgar Farmer's, and a chin like his and + eyes like his. And Isaiah had just said that Edgar Farmer had a crooked + finger on his right hand caused by an accident with a hogshead of salt. + Mary remembered well something Crawford had told her, that his father had + a finger on the right hand which had been hurt in a mine years before he, + Crawford, was born. + </p> + <p> + It could not be, of course—it could not be—and yet—Oh, + WHAT did it mean? + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0024" id="link2HCH0024"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXIV + </h2> + <p> + In his own room at the end of the second-story hall, over the kitchen, Mr. + Chase was sitting reading the local paper before retiring. It was a habit + he had, one of which Captain Shadrach pretended to approve highly. “Best + thing in the world, Isaiah,” declared the Captain. “Sleep's what everybody + needs and I can't think of any surer way of gettin' to sleep than readin' + the South Harniss news in that paper.” + </p> + <p> + Whether or not this unkind joke was deserved is not material; at all + events Isaiah was reading the paper when he was very much startled by a + knock at the door. + </p> + <p> + “Who—who is it?” he stammered. + </p> + <p> + “It is Mary,” whispered a voice outside the door. “I want to speak with + you, Isaiah. You're not in bed, are you?” + </p> + <p> + Isaiah reluctantly relinquished the paper. “No, no,” he replied, “I ain't + in bed. What's the matter? Zoeth ain't no worse, is he?” + </p> + <p> + “Let me in and I'll tell you.” + </p> + <p> + “Come on in. You don't need no lettin'.” + </p> + <p> + Mary entered. She was very grave and very earnest. + </p> + <p> + “What in the nation,” began Isaiah, “are you prowlin' around this hour of + the night for?” + </p> + <p> + “Hush! Isaiah, you must tell me everything now. There's no use to say you + won't—you MUST. Who was Edgar Farmer and what wrong did he do my + uncles?” + </p> + <p> + Isaiah said nothing; he did not attempt to answer. Instead he gaped at her + with such an expression of guilty surprise, fright, and apprehension that + at any other time she would have laughed. Just now, however, she was far + from laughing. + </p> + <p> + “Come! come!” she said, impatiently. “I mean it. I want you to tell me all + about this Edgar Farmer.” + </p> + <p> + “Now—now, Mary-'Gusta, I told you—” + </p> + <p> + “You told me a very little. Now I want to know the rest. Everyone else in + this family knows it and it is time I did. I'm not a child any more. Tell + me the whole story, Isaiah.” + </p> + <p> + “I shan't neither. Oh, by godfreys, this is what I get by sayin' more'n I + ought to! And yet how could I help it when I see that tintype? It's just + my luck! Nobody else but me would have had the dratted luck to have that + picture stuck into their face and eyes unexpected. And 'twas just so when + you found that other one years ago up attic. I had to be the one you + sprung it on! I had to be! But I shan't tell you nothin'!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, you will. You must tell me everything.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I shan't.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well. Then I shall go straight to Uncle Shad.” + </p> + <p> + “To who? To CAP'N SHAD! Oh, my godfreys mighty! You go to him and see what + he'll say! Just go! Why, he'd shut up tighter'n a clam at low water and + he'd give you fits besides. Go to Cap'n Shad and ask about Ed Farmer! My + soul! You try it! Aw, don't be foolish, Mary-'Gusta.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm not going to be foolish, Isaiah. If I go to Uncle Shad I shall tell + him that it was through you I learned there was such a person as the + Farmer man and that there was a secret connected with him, that it was a + disagreeable secret, that—” + </p> + <p> + “Hush! Land sakes alive! Mary-'Gusta, DON'T talk so! Why, if you told + Cap'n Shad he'd—I don't know what he wouldn't do to me. If he knew I + told you about Ed Farmer he'd—I swan to man I believe he'd pretty + nigh kill me!” + </p> + <p> + “Well, you'll soon know what he will do, for unless you tell me the whole + story, I shall certainly go to him.” + </p> + <p> + “Aw, Mary-'Gusta—” + </p> + <p> + “I surely shall. And if he won't tell me I shall go to someone outside the + family—to Judge Baxter, perhaps. He would tell me, I'm sure, if I + asked. No, Isaiah, you tell me. And if you do tell me all freely and + frankly, keeping nothing back, I'll say nothing to Uncle Shad or Uncle + Zoeth. They shall never know who told.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Chase wrung his hands. Ever since he had been cook at the white house + by the shore he had had this duty laid upon him, the duty of keeping his + lips closed upon the name of Edgar Farmer and the story connected with + that name. When Captain Shadrach first engaged him for his present + situation the Captain had ordered him never to speak the name or mention + the happenings of that time. And after little Mary Lathrop became a + regular and most important member of the family, the command was repeated. + “She mustn't ever know if we can help it, Isaiah,” said Shadrach, + solemnly. “You know Zoeth and how he feels. For his sake, if nothin' else, + we mustn't any of us drop a hint so that she will know. She'll find out, I + presume likely, when she gets older; there'll be some kind soul around + town that'll tell her, consarn 'em; but WE shan't tell her; and if YOU + tell her, Isaiah Chase, I'll—I declare to man I'll heave you + overboard!” + </p> + <p> + And now after all these years of ignorance during which the expected had + not happened and no one of the village gossips had revealed the secret to + her—now, here she was, demanding that he, Isaiah Chase, reveal it, + and threatening to go straight to Captain Gould and tell who had put her + upon the scent. No wonder the cook and steward wrung his hands in despair; + the heaving overboard was imminent. + </p> + <p> + Mary, earnest and determined as she was to learn the truth, the truth + which she was beginning to believe might mean so much to her, nevertheless + could not help pitying him. + </p> + <p> + “Come, come, Isaiah,” she said, “don't look so tragic. There isn't + anything so dreadful about it. Have you promised—have you given your + word not to tell? Because if you have I shan't ask you to break it. I + shall go to Judge Baxter instead—or to Uncle Shad. But of course I + shall be obliged to tell how I came to know—the little I do know.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Chase did not like the prospect of her going to the Captain, that was + plain. For the first time his obstinacy seemed to waver. + </p> + <p> + “I—I don't know's I ever give my word,” he admitted. “I never + promised nothin', as I recollect. Cap'n Shad he give me orders—” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes, of course he did. Well, now I'M giving you orders. And I + promise you, Isaiah, if it ever becomes necessary I'll stand between you + and Uncle Shad. Now tell me.” + </p> + <p> + Isaiah sat down upon the bed and wiped his forehead. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Lordy!” he moaned. “I wisht my mouth had been sewed up afore ever I + said a word about any of it. . . . But—but . . . Well,” desperately, + “what is it you want to know?” + </p> + <p> + “I want to know everything. Begin at the beginning and tell me who Mr. + Farmer was.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Chase marked a pattern on the floor with his slippered foot. Then he + began: + </p> + <p> + “He come from up Cape Ann way in the beginnin',” he said. “The rest of the + firm was Cape Codders, but he wan't. However, he'd been a-fishin' and he + knew fish and after the firm was fust started and needed an extry + bookkeeper he applied and got the job. There was three of 'em in Hall and + Company at fust, all young men they was, too; your stepfather, Cap'n + Marcellus Hall, he was the head one; and Mr. Zoeth, he was next and Cap'n + Shad next. 'Twan't until three or four year afterwards that Ed Farmer was + took in partner. He was so smart and done so well they give him a share + and took him in. + </p> + <p> + “Everybody liked him, too. He was younger even than the rest, and fine + lookin' and he had a—a kind of way with him that just made you like + him. The way the business was handled was somethin' like this: Cap'n + Marcellus, your stepfather, Mary-'Gusta, he and Cap'n Shad done the + outside managin', bossin' the men—we had a lot of 'em on the wharf + them days, too, and there was always schooners unloadin' and carts loadin' + up and fellers headin' up barrels—Oh, Hall and Company's store and + docks was the busiest place on the South Shore. You ask anybody that + remembers and they'll tell you so. + </p> + <p> + “Well, Cap'n Marcellus and Cap'n Shad was sort of outside bosses, same as + I said, and Zoeth he was sort of general business boss, 'tendin' to the + buyin' supplies and payin' for 'em and gettin' money and the like of that, + and Ed—Edgar Farmer, I mean—he was inside office boss, lookin' + out for the books and the collections and the bank account and so on. + Marcellus and Zoeth and Cap'n Shad was old chums and had been for years; + they was as much to each other as brothers and always had been; but it + wan't so very long afore they thought as much of Farmer as they did of + themselves. He was that kind—you couldn't help takin' a notion to + him. + </p> + <p> + “When I get to talkin' about Hall and Company I could talk for a month of + Sundays. Them was great days—yes, sir, great days for South Harniss + and the fish business. Why I've seen, of a Saturday mornin' in the + mackerel season, as many as forty men ashore right here in town with money + in their pockets and their hats on onesided, lookin' for fun or trouble + just as happened along. And Cap'n Marcellus and his partners was looked up + to and respected; not much more'n boys they wan't, but they was big-bugs, + I tell you, and they wore beaver hats to church on Sunday, every man jack + of 'em. Fur's that goes, I wore one, too, and you might not think it, but + 'twas becomin' to me if I do say it. Yes, sir-ee! 'Twas a kind of curl-up + brim one, that hat was, and—” + </p> + <p> + “Never mind the hat now, Isaiah,” interrupted Mary. “Tell me about Mr. + Farmer.” + </p> + <p> + Isaiah looked offended. “I am tellin' you, ain't I?” he demanded. “Ain't I + tellin' you fast as I can?” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps you are. We won't argue about it. Go on.” + </p> + <p> + “Well—well, where was I? You've put me clear off my course.” + </p> + <p> + “You were just going to tell me what Mr. Farmer did.” + </p> + <p> + “What he did! What didn't he do, you'd better say! The blackguard! He + smashed the firm flat, that's what he done! And he run off with + Marcellus's sister.” + </p> + <p> + “Marcellus's sister! My stepfather's sister! I didn't know he ever had a + sister. Are you sure he had?” + </p> + <p> + “Am I sure! What kind of talk's that? Course I'm sure! She was younger + than Marcellus and pretty—say, she WAS pretty! Yes, the outside of + her figurehead was mighty hard to beat, everybody said so; but the inside + was kind of—well, kind of rattly, as you might say. She'd laugh and + talk and go on and Ed Farmer he'd hang over the desk there in the office + and look at her. Just look—and look—and look. How many times + I've seen 'em that way! It got so that folks begun to talk a little mite. + Marcellus didn't, of course; he idolized that girl, worshiped her like a + vain thing, so's to speak. And Cap'n Shad, course he wouldn't talk because + he's always down on tattle-tales and liars, but I've always thought he was + a little mite suspicious and troubled. As for poor Zoeth—well, it's + always his kind that are the last to suspect. And Zoeth was as innocent + then as he is now. And as good, too. + </p> + <p> + “And then one day it come out, come down on us like the mainmast goin' by + the board. No, come to think of it, it didn't come all to once that way. + Part of it did, but the rest didn't. The rest kind of leaked out along + slow, gettin' a little mite worse every day. I can see it just as plain as + if 'twas yesterday—Marcellus and Shadrach in the office goin' over + the books and addin' up on pieces of paper, and it gettin' worse and worse + all the time. And the whole town a-talkin'! And poor Zoeth lyin' in his + bedroom there to home, out of his mind and ravin' distracted and beggin' + and pleadin' with his partners not to chase 'em, to let 'em go free for + her sake. And the doctor a-comin'! And—” + </p> + <p> + Mary began to feel that she, too, was in danger of raving distraction. + Between her anxiety to hear the story and her forebodings and growing + suspicions she was becoming more and more nervous as Isaiah rambled on. + </p> + <p> + “Wait! Wait, please, Isaiah!” she begged. “I don't understand. What had + happened?” + </p> + <p> + Isaiah regarded her with surprise and impatience. + </p> + <p> + “Ain't I been tellin' you?” he snapped, testily. “Ain't I this minute told + you? This Ed Farmer had cleared out and run off and he'd took with him + every cent of Hall and Company's money that he could rake and scrape. He'd + been stealin' and speculatin' for years, it turned out. 'Twas him, the dum + thief, him and his stealin's that made the firm fail. Wan't that enough to + happen, I'd like to know? But that wan't all; no, sir, that wan't the + worst of it.” + </p> + <p> + He paused, evidently expecting his hearer to make some comment. She was + leaning forward, her eyes fixed upon his face, but she did not speak. Mr. + Chase, judging by her expression that he had created the sensation which, + as story-teller, he considered his due, went on. + </p> + <p> + “No, sir-ee! that wan't the worst of it. You and me might have thought + losin' all our money was the worst that could be, but Marcellus and + Shadrach didn't think so. Marcellus was pretty nigh stove in himself—there + was nothin' on earth he loved the way he loved that sister of his—but + when he and Cap'n Shad thought of poor Zoeth they couldn't think of much + else. Shadrach had liked her and Marcellus had loved her, but Zoeth had + fairly bowed down and worshiped the ground she trod on. Anything she + wanted, no matter what, she could have if 'twas in Zoeth's power to get it + for her. He'd humored her and spiled her as if she was a child and all he + asked for doin' it was that she'd pat him on the head once in a while, + same as you would a dog. And now she'd gone—run off with that thief! + Why—” + </p> + <p> + Mary interrupted again. “Wait! Wait, Isaiah,” she cried. “I tell you I + don't understand. You say—you say Captain Hall's sister had gone + with Mr. Farmer?” + </p> + <p> + “Sartin! she run off with him and nobody's laid eyes on either of 'em + since. That was why—” + </p> + <p> + “Stop! stop! What I don't understand is why Uncle Zoeth was so stricken by + the news. Why had HE humored and spoiled her? Was he in love with her?” + </p> + <p> + Isaiah stared at her in blank astonishment. + </p> + <p> + “In love with her!” he repeated. “Course he was! Why wouldn't he be? Wan't + she his wife?” + </p> + <p> + There was no doubt about the sensation now. The color slowly faded from + Mary's cheeks. + </p> + <p> + “His WIFE?” she repeated slowly. + </p> + <p> + “Sartin! They'd been married 'most five year. Didn't I tell you? She was a + good deal younger'n he was, but—” + </p> + <p> + “Wait! What—what was her name?” + </p> + <p> + “Eh? Didn't I tell you that neither? That's funny. Her name was Patience—Patience + Hall.” + </p> + <p> + The last doubt was gone. Clear and distinct to Mary's mind came a sentence + of Crawford's: “I saw her name first on the gravestone and it made an + impression on me because it was so quaint and old-fashioned. 'Patience, + wife of Edwin Smith.'” + </p> + <p> + She heard very little of Isaiah's story thereafter. Scattered sentences + reached her ears. Isaiah was telling how, because of Zoeth's pleading and + the latter's desire to avoid all the public scandal possible, no attempt + was made to trace the fugitives. + </p> + <p> + “They went West somewheres,” said Isaiah. “Anyhow 'twas supposed they did + 'cause they was seen together on the Chicago train by an Orham man that + knew Farmer. Anybody but Marcellus and your uncles, Mary-'Gusta, would + have sot the sheriff on their track and hauled 'em back here and made that + Farmer swab give up what he stole. I don't imagine he had such a terrible + lot with him, I cal'late the heft of it had gone in stock speculatin', but + he must have had somethin' and they could have got a-holt of that. But no, + Zoeth he says, 'Don't follow 'em! For her sake and mine—don't make + the shame more public than 'tis.' You see, Zoeth was the same then as he + is now; you'd have thought HE was to blame to hear him talk. He never said + a word against her then nor since. A mighty good man, your Uncle Zoeth + Hamilton is, Mary-'Gusta. Saint on earth, I call him.” + </p> + <p> + He went on to tell how Marcellus and Shadrach had fought to keep the firm + on its feet, how for a time it struggled on against the load of debt left + it by their former partner, only to go down at last. + </p> + <p> + “Marcellus went down with it, as you might say,” continued Isaiah. + “Between losin' his sister and losin' his business he never was the same + man afterwards, though he did make consider'ble money in other ways. Him + and Cap'n Shadrach both went back to seafarin' again and after a spell I + went with 'em. Poor Zoeth, when he got on his feet, which took a long + spell, he started a little store that by and by, when Cap'n Shad joined in + with him, was Hamilton and Company, same as now. And when Shadrach come I + come too, as cook and steward, you understand. But from that day to this + there's been two names never mentioned in this house, one's Patience + Hall's and t'other's Ed Farmer's. You can see now why, when I thought that + tintype was his, I was so took aback. You see, don't you, Mary-'Gusta? + Why! Where you goin'?” + </p> + <p> + Mary had risen from her chair, taken up the lamp, and was on her way to + the door. + </p> + <p> + “I'm going to my room,” she said. “Good night, Isaiah.” + </p> + <p> + “What are you goin' now for? I could tell you a lot more partic'lars if + you wanted to hear 'em. Now I've told so much I might as well tell the + rest. If I'm goin' to be hove overboard for tellin' I might as well make a + big splash as a little one. If you got any questions to ask, heave ahead + and ask 'em. Fire away, I don't care,” he added, recklessly. + </p> + <p> + But Mary shook her head. She did not even turn to look at him. + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps I may ask them some other time,” she said. “Not now. Thank you + for telling me so much. Good night.” + </p> + <p> + Alone in her own room once more she sat down to think. It was plain enough + now. All the parts of the puzzle fitted together. Edwin Smith having been + proved to be Edgar Farmer, everything was explainable. It had seemed queer + to her, Mr. Smith's aversion to the East, his refusal to come East even to + his son's graduation; but it was not at all queer that Edgar Farmer, the + embezzler, should feel such an aversion, or refuse to visit a locality + where, even after all these years, he might be recognized. It was not odd + that he disliked to be photographed. And it certainly was not strange that + he should have behaved as he did when his son announced the intention of + marrying her, Mary Lathrop, stepdaughter of one of his former partners and + victims' and adopted niece and ward of the other two. + </p> + <p> + What a terrible surprise and shock Crawford's communication must have been + to him! The dead past, the past he no doubt had believed buried forever, + had risen from the tomb to confront him. His only son, the boy he + idolized, who believed him to be a man of honor, whose love and respect + meant more than the world to him—his only son asking to marry the + ward of the man whom he had wronged beyond mortal forgiveness, asking to + marry her and intimating that he would marry her whether or no. And the + secret which he had guarded so jealously, had hidden from his son and the + world with such infinite pains, suddenly threatening to be cried aloud in + the streets for all, his boy included, to hear. Mary shuddered as she + realized what the man must have felt. It must have seemed to him like the + direct hand of avenging Providence. No wonder he at first could not + believe it to be merely accident, coincidence; no wonder that he asked if + Zoeth Hamilton had sent Crawford to him, and had demanded to know what + Zoeth Hamilton had told. + </p> + <p> + It was dreadful, it was pitiful. She found herself pitying Edwin Smith—or + Edgar Farmer—even though she knew the retribution which had come + upon him was deserved. + </p> + <p> + She pitied him—yes; but now she could spare little pity for others, + she needed as much herself. For minute by minute, as she sat there + thinking out this great problem just as the little Mary-'Gusta used to + think out her small ones, her duty became clear and more clear to her + mind. Edgar Farmer's secret must be kept. For Crawford's sake it must be. + He need not—he must not—learn that the father he had honored + and respected all his life was unworthy of that honor and respect. And her + uncles—they must not know. The old skeleton must not be dug from its + grave. Her Uncle Zoeth had told her only a little while before that he was + learning to forget, or if not to forget at least to be more reconciled. + She did not understand him then; now she did. To have him learn that Edgar + Farmer was alive, that his son—Oh, no, he must not learn it! Ill as + he was, and weak as he was likely to be always, the shock might kill him. + And yet sooner or later he would learn unless the secret remained, as it + had been for years, undisclosed. + </p> + <p> + And to keep it still a secret was, she saw clearly, her duty. She might + rebel against it, she might feel that it was wicked and cruel, the + spoiling of her life to save these others, but it was her duty + nevertheless. Because she loved Crawford—and she was realizing now + that she did love him dearly, that there could never be another love in + the world for her—-she must send him away, she must end the affair + at once. If she did that she could save him from learning of his father's + disgrace, could avert the otherwise inevitable quarrel between them, could + make his career and his future secure. And her uncles would be happy, the + skeleton would remain undisturbed. + </p> + <p> + Yes, she must do it. But it was so hard to do. Philosophy did not help in + the least. She had tried to convince herself when she gave up her school + work that it meant the end of her romance also. She had tried to tell + Crawford so. But she had been weak, she had permitted herself to hope. She + had realized that for the present, perhaps for years, she must work for + and with the old men who had been father and mother both to her, but—he + had said so—Crawford would wait for her, and some day—perhaps— + </p> + <p> + But now there was no perhaps—now she knew. She must receive no more + letters from him. She must never see him again. The break must be absolute + and final. And there was but one way to bring that about. He had said + repeatedly that only her declaration that she did not love him would ever + prevent his marrying her. Very well, then for his sake she must lie to + him; she must tell him that very thing. She must write him that she had + been considering the matter and had decided she could never love him + enough to become his wife. + </p> + <p> + It was almost two o'clock when she reached this decision but she sat down + at her desk to write then and there the letter containing it, the last + letter she would ever write him. And when the morning light came streaming + in at the windows she still sat there, the letter unwritten. She had made + many beginnings, but not an end. She must try again; she was too tired, + too nervous, too hopeless and heartbroken to make another attempt that + morning, but before the day was over it should be done. She threw herself + down upon the bed but she could not sleep. Why had she been selected to + bear this burden? What had she done that God should delight to torture her + in this way? + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0025" id="link2HCH0025"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXV + </h2> + <p> + That difficult letter was never written. In the afternoon, business at the + store being rather quiet and Mrs. Atkins, the nurse, desiring an hour's + leave to do an errand in the village, Mary had taken her place in the + sickroom. Zoeth was improving slowly, so the doctor said, but he took very + little interest in what went on, speaking but seldom, asking few + questions, and seeming to be but partially sensible of his surroundings. + Best not to try to rouse him, the physician said. Little by little he + would gain mentally as well as physically and, by and by, there was reason + to hope, would be up and about again. Probably, however, he would never be + so strong as he had been before his sudden seizure, the cause of which—if + there had been a definite cause—was still unknown. + </p> + <p> + Just then he was asleep and Mary, sitting in the rocking-chair by the bed, + was thinking, thinking, thinking. If she could only stop thinking for a + little while! Uncle Zoeth, there on the bed, looked so calm and peaceful. + If only she might have rest and peace again! If she might be allowed to + forget! + </p> + <p> + The door opened gently and Mr. Chase appeared. He beckoned to her to come + out. With a glance at the patient, she tiptoed from the room into the + hall. + </p> + <p> + “What is it, Isaiah?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + Isaiah seemed to be excited about something. + </p> + <p> + “I've got a surprise for you, Mary-'Gusta,” he whispered. “There's + somebody downstairs to see you.” + </p> + <p> + His manner was so important and mysterious that Mary was puzzled. + </p> + <p> + “Someone to see me?” she repeated. “Who is it?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Chase winked. + </p> + <p> + “It's somebody you wan't expectin' to see, I bet you!” he declared. “I + know I wan't. When I opened the door and see him standin' there I—” + </p> + <p> + “Saw him? Who? Who is it, Isaiah? Stop that ridiculous winking this + instant. Who is it?” + </p> + <p> + “It's that young Crawford Smith feller from way out West, that's who 'tis. + Ah, ha! I told you you'd be surprised.” + </p> + <p> + She was surprised, there could be no doubt of that. For a moment she stood + perfectly still. Had it not been that the hall was almost dark in the + shadows of the late afternoon Isaiah would have noticed how pale she had + become. But it was evident that he did not notice it, for he chuckled. + </p> + <p> + “I told you you'd be some surprised,” he crowed. “Well, ain't you comin' + on down to see him? Seems to me if I had a beau—excuse me, a + gentleman friend—who come a-cruisin' all the way from t'other side + of creation to see me I wouldn't keep him waitin' very long. Ho! ho!” + </p> + <p> + Mary did not answer at once. When she did she was surprised to find that + she was able to speak so calmly. + </p> + <p> + “I shall be down in a moment,” she said. “Isaiah, will you please go in + and stay with Uncle Zoeth until I come?” + </p> + <p> + Isaiah looked chagrined and disappointed. Visitors from the far West were + rare and especially rare was a young gentleman who Mr. Chase, with what + Captain Shadrach termed his “lovesick imagination,” surmised was + Mary-'Gusta's beau. He wished to see more of him. + </p> + <p> + “Aw, say, Mary-'Gusta,” he pleaded, “I'm awful busy. I don't see how I can + set along of Zoeth—Say, Mary'Gusta!” + </p> + <p> + But Mary had gone. She was hurrying along the hall toward her own room. So + Isaiah, remembering that the doctor had said Mr. Hamilton must not be left + alone, grumblingly obeyed orders and went in to sit beside him. + </p> + <p> + In her own room Mary stood, white and shaken, striving to regain her + composure. She must regain it, she must be cool and calm in order to go + through the ordeal she knew was before her. His coming could mean but one + thing: his father had still refused consent and he had come to tell her so + and to beg her to wait for him in spite of it. If only he had written + saying he was coming, if she had been forewarned, then she might have been + more ready, more prepared. Now she must summon all her resolution and be + firm and unwavering. Her purpose was as set and strong as ever, but ah, it + would be so hard to tell him! To write the letter she had meant to write + would have been easy compared to this. However, it must be done—and + done now. She went down the stairs and entered the sitting-room. + </p> + <p> + He was sitting in the rocker by the window and when she came into the room + he sprang to his feet and came toward her. His face, or so it seemed to + her, showed some traces of the trouble and anxiety through which he had + passed so recently. He was a little thinner and he looked less boyish. He + held out his hands. + </p> + <p> + “Well, Mary,” he cried, eagerly, “here I am. Aren't you glad to see me?” + </p> + <p> + He seized both her hands in his. She disengaged them gently. Her manner + seemed odd to him and he regarded her in a puzzled way. + </p> + <p> + “AREN'T you glad?” he repeated. “Why, Mary, what is the matter?” + </p> + <p> + She smiled sadly and shook her head. “Oh, Crawford,” she said, “why did + you come? Or, at least, why didn't you write me you were coming?” + </p> + <p> + He laughed. “I didn't write,” he answered, “because I was afraid if I did + you would write me not to come.” + </p> + <p> + “I certainly should.” + </p> + <p> + “Of course you would. So I took no chances but just came instead.” + </p> + <p> + “But why did you come?” + </p> + <p> + “Why? To see you, of course.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Crawford, please don't joke. You know I asked you not to come here. + When we last spoke together, over the telephone, I told you that if you + came here I should not see you. And yet you came.” + </p> + <p> + His manner changed. He was serious enough now. + </p> + <p> + “I came,” he said, “because—well, because I felt that I must. I had + many things to tell you, Mary, and something to ask. And I could neither + tell nor ask in a letter. Dad and I have quarreled—we've parted + company.” + </p> + <p> + She had expected to hear it, but it shocked and grieved her, nevertheless. + She knew how he had loved his father. + </p> + <p> + “Sit down, Crawford,” she said gently. “Sit down and tell me all about + it.” + </p> + <p> + He told her. There was little more to tell than he had written. His father + had not become more reconciled to the idea of his marrying Mary. Instead + his opposition was just as violent and, to his son's mind, as unreasonably + absurd. Day after day Crawford waited, hoping that time would bring a + change or that his own arguments might have an effect, but neither time + nor argument softened Edwin Smith's obstinacy. + </p> + <p> + “He behaved like a madman at times,” declared Crawford. “And at others he + would almost beg me on his knees to give you up. I asked him why. I told + him over and over again that he should be proud to have such a girl for + his daughter-in-law. I said everything I could. I told him I would do + anything for him—anything he asked—except give you up. That I + would not do. And it was the only thing he seemed to wish me to do. Talked + about bringing shame and disgrace on his head and mine—and all sorts + of wild nonsense. When I asked what he meant by disgrace he could not tell + me. Of course he couldn't.” + </p> + <p> + That was true, of course he could not tell. Mary knew, and she realized + once more the tortures which the man must have suffered, must be suffering + at that moment. + </p> + <p> + “So at last we parted,” said Crawford. “I left word—left a letter + saying that, so far as I could see, it was best that I went away. We could + not agree apparently, he and I, upon the one point which, as I saw it, was + the most important decision of my life. And I had made that decision. I + told him how much I hated to leave him; that I loved him as much as I ever + did. 'But,' I said, 'I shall not give up my happiness and my future merely + to gratify your unreasonable whim.' Then I came away and started East to + you.” + </p> + <p> + He paused, evidently expecting Mary to make some comment or ask a + question, but she was silent. After a moment he went on. + </p> + <p> + “I haven't made any definite plans as yet,” he said. “I have another year + at the Medical School—or should have it. I am hoping that I may be + able to go back to the Harvard Med. here in Boston and work my way + through. Other chaps have done it and I'm sure I can. And after that—well, + after that I must take my chance at finding a location and a practice, + like any other young M.D. But first of all, Mary, I want you to tell me + that you will wait for me. It's a lot to ask; I know how much. But will + you, Mary dear? That's what I've come here for—to get you to say + that you will. After that I can face anything—yes, and win out, + too.” + </p> + <p> + Mary looked at him. His face was aglow with earnestness and his voice + shook as he finished speaking. He rose and held out his hands. + </p> + <p> + “Will you, Mary?” he begged. + </p> + <p> + She looked at him no longer. She was afraid to do so—afraid of her + own weakness. But no sign of that weakness showed itself in her tone as + she answered. + </p> + <p> + “I'm sorry, Crawford,” she said, gently. “I wish I could, but I can't.” + </p> + <p> + “Can't! Can't wait for me?” + </p> + <p> + “I could wait for you, it isn't that. If it were merely a question of + waiting—if that were all—how easy it would be! But it isn't. + Crawford, you must go back to your father. You must go back to him and + forget all about me. You must.” + </p> + <p> + He stared at her for a moment. Then he laughed. + </p> + <p> + “Forget you!” he repeated. “Mary, are you—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, please, Crawford! Don't make this any harder for both of us than it + has to be. You must go back to your father and you must forget me. I can + not marry you, I can't.” + </p> + <p> + He came toward her. + </p> + <p> + “But, Mary,” he cried, “I—I—Of course I know you can't—now. + I know how you feel about your duty to your uncles. I know they need you. + I am not asking that you leave them. I ask only that you say you will wait + until—until by and by, when—” + </p> + <p> + “Please, Crawford! No, I can't.” + </p> + <p> + “Mary! You—Oh, but you must say it! Don't tell me you don't love + me!” + </p> + <p> + She was silent. He put his hands upon her shoulders. She could feel them + tremble. + </p> + <p> + “Don't you love me, Mary?” he repeated. “Look up! Look at me! DON'T you + love me?” + </p> + <p> + She did not look up, but she shook her head. + </p> + <p> + “No, Crawford,” she said. “I'm afraid not. Not enough.” + </p> + <p> + She heard him catch his breath, and she longed—Oh, how she longed!—to + throw her arms about him, tell him that it was all a lie, that she did + love him. But she forced herself not to think of her own love, only of + those whom she loved and what disgrace and shame and misery would come + upon them if she yielded. + </p> + <p> + “Not enough?” she heard him repeat slowly. “You—you don't love me? + Oh, Mary!” + </p> + <p> + She shook her head. + </p> + <p> + “I am sorry, Crawford,” she said. “I can't tell you how sorry. Please—please + don't think hardly of me, not too hardly. I wish—I wish it were + different.” + </p> + <p> + Neither spoke for a moment. Then he said: + </p> + <p> + “I'm afraid I don't understand. Is there someone else?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no, no! There isn't anyone.” + </p> + <p> + “Then—But you told me—You have let me think—” + </p> + <p> + “Please! I told you I was not sure of my own feelings. I—I am sure + now. I am so sorry you came. I should have written you. I had begun the + letter.” + </p> + <p> + Again silence. Then he laughed, a short, bitter laugh with anything but + mirth in it. + </p> + <p> + “I am a fool,” he said. “WHAT a fool I have been!” + </p> + <p> + “Please, Crawford, don't speak so. . . . Oh, where are you going?” + </p> + <p> + “I? I don't know. What difference does it make where I go? Good-by.” + </p> + <p> + “Stop, Crawford! Wait! It makes a difference to your father where you go. + It makes a difference to me. I—I value your friendship very highly. + I hoped I might keep that. I hoped you would let me be your friend, even + though the other could not be. I hoped that.” + </p> + <p> + The minute before she had asked him to forget her, but she did not + remember that, nor did he. He was standing by the door, looking out. For a + moment he stood there. Then he turned and held out his hand. + </p> + <p> + “Forgive me, Mary,” he said. “I have behaved like a cad, I'm afraid. When + a fellow has been building air castles and all at once they tumble down + upon his head he—well, he is likely to forget other things. Forgive + me.” + </p> + <p> + She took his hand. She could keep back the tears no longer; her eyes + filled. + </p> + <p> + “There is nothing for me to forgive,” she said. “If you will forgive me, + that is all I ask. And—and let me still be your friend.” + </p> + <p> + “Of course. Bless you, Mary! I—I can't talk any more now. You'll—” + with an attempt at a smile—“you'll have to give me a little time to + get my bearings, as your Uncle Shad would say.” + </p> + <p> + “And—and won't you go back to your father? I shall feel so much + happier if you do.” + </p> + <p> + He hesitated. Then he nodded. + </p> + <p> + “If you wish it—yes,” he said. “I suppose it is the thing I ought to + do. Dad will be happy, at any rate. Oh, Mary, CAN'T you?” + </p> + <p> + “No, Crawford, no. Yes, your father will be happy. And—and by and by + you will be, too, I know. Are you going?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I think I had better. I don't feel like meeting anyone and your + Uncle Shad will be here soon, I suppose. Your man here—Isaiah—told + me of Mr. Hamilton's sickness. I'm sorry.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, poor Uncle Zoeth! He is gaining a little, however. Crawford, I won't + ask you to stay. Perhaps it will be best for both of us if you do not. But + won't you write me just once more? Just to tell me that you and your + father are reconciled? I should like to know that. And do forgive me—Oh, + do! I HAD to say it, Crawford!” + </p> + <p> + “I forgive you, Mary. Of course you had to say it. . . . But . . . Well, + never mind. Yes, I'll write, of course. I hope . . . No, I can't say that, + not now. I'd better go at once, I think, before I . . . Good-by.” + </p> + <p> + He seized her hand, pressed it tightly, took his hat from the table and + his bag from the floor and swung out of the door. In the doorway she stood + looking after him. At the gate he turned, waved his hand, and hurried on. + He did not look back again. + </p> + <p> + When at half-past six Captain Shadrach, having left Annabel and the boy in + charge of the store, came home for supper, Isaiah had some news to tell + him. It was surprising news. + </p> + <p> + “You don't say!” exclaimed the Captain. “Well, well, I want to know! All + the way from out West, eh? Sho! Where is he now?” + </p> + <p> + Isaiah shook his head. “That's the funny part of it, he's gone,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “Gone? Gone where?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know. All I know is he come and said he wanted to see Mary-'Gusta—I + went up and told her and she come down to see him. I stayed up along of + Zoeth until Debby T. came back from her shoppin' cruise. Then I come + downstairs again and his hat and bag was gone. There wan't nobody here.” + </p> + <p> + “Where was Mary-'Gusta? Where is she now?” + </p> + <p> + “Up in her room, I cal'late. I heard her movin' round there a spell ago.” + </p> + <p> + Shadrach went up the stairs, along the hall, and knocked at Mary's door. + </p> + <p> + “Who is it?” asked a faint voice within. + </p> + <p> + “It's your Uncle Shad, Mary-'Gusta. Can I come in?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + He entered. There was no lamp and the room was dark. + </p> + <p> + “Where are you?” he demanded. + </p> + <p> + “Here, by the window, Uncle Shad.” + </p> + <p> + She was sitting in the rocker by the window. He could not see her face, + but as he bent and kissed her cheek he found it wet. + </p> + <p> + “Mercy on us! You've been cryin'!” he declared. + </p> + <p> + “Oh—Oh, no, I haven't! I—” + </p> + <p> + “Rubbish! Yes, you have, too. Settin' alone up here in the dark and + cryin'! Mary-'Gusta Lathrop, come here!” + </p> + <p> + She had risen from the rocking-chair, but he seized her in his arms, sat + down in the chair himself, and lifted her to his knee just as he used to + do when she was the little Mary-'Gusta. + </p> + <p> + “Now there, dearie,” he said. “You'll tell your Uncle Shad. What is it?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, nothing, Uncle Shad, dear. I was—I'm feeling just a little + silly this afternoon, I guess. You mustn't ask me.” + </p> + <p> + “All right, I won't ask—I'll tell. That young feller from out West, + the feller with the uncommon name—Brown—Jones—Oh, no, + Smith, that was it—he came cruisin' around here and—” + </p> + <p> + “Uncle Shad, how did you know?” + </p> + <p> + “A little bird told me. A long-legged bird without much hair on top—a + bald-headed eagle, I cal'late he must be. Hops round our kitchen daytimes + and roosts in the attic nights.” + </p> + <p> + “Isaiah! Of course he would tell.” + </p> + <p> + “Of course he would—BEIN' Isaiah. Well, this Smith critter, he came + and—and—well, I guess you'll have to tell me the rest.” + </p> + <p> + “There isn't much to tell. He came and—and then he went away again.” + </p> + <p> + “Went away—where?” + </p> + <p> + “Out to Carson City, I suppose.” + </p> + <p> + “Ain't he comin' back any more?” + </p> + <p> + “No.” + </p> + <p> + “Why? Don't you want him to come, Mary-'Gusta?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Uncle Shad, please don't. I don't feel as if I could answer. Don't + ask me.” + </p> + <p> + “There, there, dearie; don't you answer nothin'. You set still here and be + my baby. I ain't had a chance to baby you for a long spell and it seems + good.” + </p> + <p> + Silence. Suddenly the Captain felt the head which nestled against his + shoulder stir. + </p> + <p> + “Uncle Shadrach,” said Mary-'Gusta, “what do you do when you want to + forget?” + </p> + <p> + “Eh? Want to forget? Oh, I don't know! Cal'late I turn to and sail in and + work a little harder, maybe. Why?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, nothing. . . But I am much obliged for the suggestion. Now I am going + to work. I shall begin tomorrow morning. I wish it was tomorrow right + now.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't. Jumpin' fire! Don't wish time away; some of us ain't got too much + to spare. But ain't you BEEN workin', for mercy sakes? I should say you + had.” + </p> + <p> + Another interval of silence. Then Mary said: + </p> + <p> + “Uncle Shad, a good while ago, when you asked me about—about him, I + promised you I would tell when there was anything to tell. I am going to + keep my promise. He came today and asked me—asked me to marry him—not + now, of course, but by and by.” + </p> + <p> + Shadrach was not greatly surprised. Nevertheless it was a moment before he + spoke. Mary felt his arms tighten about her and she realized a little of + the struggle he was making. Yet his tone was brave and cheerful. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” he said. “Well, I—I kind of cal'lated that would come some + day or other. It's all right, Mary-'Gusta. Zoeth and me have talked it + over and all we want is to see you happy. If you said yes to him, Zoeth + and I'll say 'God bless you' to both of you.” + </p> + <p> + She reached for his hand and lifted it to her lips. “I know you would,” + she said. “All your lives you have been thinking of others and not of + yourselves. But I didn't say yes, Uncle Shad. I am not going to be married + now or by and by. I don't want to be. I am the silent partner of Hamilton + and Company. I am a business woman and I am going to work—REALLY + work—from now on. No, you mustn't ask me any more questions. We'll + try to forget it all. Kiss me, Uncle Shad, dear. That's it. Now you go + down to supper. I shall stay here; I am not hungry tonight.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0026" id="link2HCH0026"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXVI + </h2> + <p> + Captain Shad did ask more questions, of course. He asked no more that + evening—he judged it wisest not to do so; but the next day, seizing + an opportunity when he and his niece were alone, he endeavored to learn a + little more concerning her reasons for dismissing Crawford. The Captain + liked young Smith, he had believed Mary liked him very much, and, although + he could not help feeling a guilty sense of relief because the danger that + he and Zoeth might have to share her affections with someone else was, for + the time at least, out of the way, he was puzzled and troubled by the + abruptness of the dismissal. There was something, he felt sure, which he + did not understand. + </p> + <p> + “Of course, Mary-'Gusta,” he said, “I ain't askin' anything—that is, + I don't mean to put my oar in about what you told me last night, but—well, + you see, Zoeth and me was beginnin' to feel that 'twas pretty nigh a + settled thing between you and that young man.” + </p> + <p> + Mary was sitting at the desk—she and her uncle were at the store + together—and she looked up from the ledger over which she had been + bending and shook her head reproachfully. She looked tired and worn, so it + seemed to Captain Shadrach, as if she had not slept well the night before, + or perhaps for several nights. + </p> + <p> + “Uncle Shad,” she said, “what did I tell you?” + </p> + <p> + “Eh? Why, you told me—You know what you told me, Mary-'Gusta. What + do you ask that for?” + </p> + <p> + “Because I think you have forgotten the most important part of it. I told + you we were going to forget it all. And we are. We are not going to speak + of it again.” + </p> + <p> + “But, Mary-'Gusta, why—” + </p> + <p> + “No, Uncle Shad.” + </p> + <p> + “But do just tell me this much; if you don't I shan't rest in peace: you + didn't send him away on account of Zoeth and me? It wan't just because you + thought we needed you?” + </p> + <p> + “No, Uncle Shad.” + </p> + <p> + “Then—” + </p> + <p> + “That's all. It's over with; it's done with forever. If you really care + about me, Uncle Shad—and sometimes, you know, I almost suspect that + you really do—you will never, NEVER say another word about it. Now + come here and tell me about this account of Heman Rodger's. Isn't it time + we tried to get a payment from him?” + </p> + <p> + The Captain, although still uneasy and far from satisfied, asked no more + questions of his niece. It was evident that nothing was to be gained in + that way. He did, however, question Isaiah to learn if the latter had + noticed anything unusual in Crawford's manner or if Crawford had said + anything concerning his reason for coming on at that time, but Isaiah had + noticed nothing. + </p> + <p> + “Umph!” grunted Shadrach, rather impatiently, for the mystery in the + affair irritated him. “Of course, you didn't notice. YOU wouldn't notice + if your head came off.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Chase drew himself up. “If I hove out such a statement as that,” he + observed, scornfully, “you'd call me a fool. 'If my head come off!' How + could I notice anything if my head was off? You tell me that!” + </p> + <p> + His employer grinned. “I cal'late you could do it about as well as you can + with it on, Isaiah,” he said, and walked away, leaving the cook and + steward incoherently anxious to retort but lacking ammunition. + </p> + <p> + So Shadrach was obliged to give up the riddle. Lovers' quarrels were by no + means unusual, he knew that, and many young love affairs came to nothing. + Mary had never told him that she cared for Crawford. But she had never + said she did not care for him. And now she would say nothing except that + it was “done with forever.” The Captain shook his head and longed for + Zoeth's counsel and advice. But Zoeth would not be able to counsel or + advise for months. + </p> + <p> + And now Mary seemed bent upon proving the truth of her statement that she + was henceforth to be solely a business woman. The summer being over—and + it had been, everything considered, a successful one for Hamilton and + Company—it became time to buy fall and winter goods, also goods for + the holidays. Mary went to Boston on a buying expedition. When she + returned and informed her uncle what and how much she had bought, he + looked almost as if he had been listening to the reading of his death + warrant. + </p> + <p> + “Jumpin' Judas!” he exclaimed. “You don't mean to tell me you bought all + them things and—and got TRUSTED for 'em?” + </p> + <p> + “Of course I did, Uncle Shad. It is the only way I could buy them; and, so + far as that goes, everyone was glad to sell me. You see, our paying our + bills up there in a shorter time than I asked for has made a very good + impression. I could have bought ever and ever so much more if I had + thought it best.” + </p> + <p> + “Jumpin' fire! Well, I'm glad you didn't think it best. What in the nation + we're goin' to do with all we have got I don't see.” + </p> + <p> + “Do with it? Why, sell it, of course.” + </p> + <p> + “Urn—yes, I cal'lated that was the idea, probably; but who's goin' + to buy it?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, lots of people. You'll see. I am going to advertise this fall, + advertise in the papers. Oh, we'll make Baker's Bazaar and the rest worry + a little before we're through.” + </p> + <p> + The Captain was inclined to fear that the most of the worrying would be + done by Hamilton and Company, but he expressed no more misgivings. + Besides, if anyone could sell all those goods, that one was his + Mary-'Gusta, he was perfectly sure of that. He believed her quite capable + of performing almost any miracle. Had she not pulled the firm off the + rocks where he and his partner had almost wrecked it? Wasn't she the most + wonderful young woman on earth? Old as he was, Captain Shad would probably + have attempted to thrash any person who expressed a doubt of that. + </p> + <p> + And the goods were sold, all of them and more. The advertisements, + temptingly worded, appeared in the county weeklies, and circulars were + sent through the mails. Partly by enterprise and partly through influence—Mr. + Keith helped here—Mary attained for Hamilton and Company the + contract for supplying the furniture and draperies for the new hotel which + a New York syndicate was building at Orham Neck. It was purely a + commission deal, of course—everything was purchased in Boston—and + Hamilton and Company's profit was a percentage, but even a small + percentage on so large a sale made a respectable figure on a check and + helped to pay more of the firm's debts. And those debts, the old ones, + were now reduced to an almost negligible quantity. + </p> + <p> + The secondhand horse and wagon still continued to go upon their rounds, + but the boy had been replaced by an active young fellow whose name was + Crocker and who was capable of taking orders as well as delivering them. + When Captain Shadrach was told—not consulted concerning but told—the + wages this young man was to receive, he was, as he confided to Isaiah + afterward, “dismasted, stove in, down by the head and sinkin' fast.” + </p> + <p> + “Mary-'Gusta Lathrop!” he cried, in amazement. “Are you goin' stark loony? + Payin' that Simmie Crocker fourteen dollars a WEEK for drivin' team and + swappin' our good sugar and flour for sewin'-circle lies over folks' back + fences! I never heard such a thing in my life. Why, Baker's Bazaar don't + pay the man on their team but ten a week. I know that 'cause he told me so + himself. And Baker's Bazaar's got more trade than we have.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. And that is exactly why we need a better man than they have, so that + WE can get more trade. Simeon Crocker is an ambitious young chap. He isn't + going to be contented with fourteen long.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, he ain't, eh? Well, I ain't contented with it now, I tell you that. + Fourteen dollars a week for drivin' cart! Jumpin' fire! Why, the cart + itself ain't worth more'n fifteen and for twenty-five I'd heave in the + horse for good measure. But I'd never get the chance,” he added, “unless I + could make the trade in the dark.” + </p> + <p> + Mary laughed and patted his shoulder. + </p> + <p> + “Never mind, Uncle Shad,” she said, confidently, “Sim Crocker at fourteen + a week is a good investment. He will get us a lot of new business now, and + next summer—well, I have some plans of my own for next summer.” + </p> + <p> + The Christmas business was very good indeed. Shadrach, Mary, Annabel, and + Simeon were kept busy. Customers came, not only from South Harniss, but + from West and East Harniss and even from Orham and Bayport. The newspaper + advertisements were responsible for this in the beginning, but those who + first came told others that the best stock of Christmas goods in Ostable + County was to be found at the store of Hamilton and Company, in South + Harniss, and so the indirect, word-of-mouth advertising, which is the best + and most convincing kind, spread and brought results. + </p> + <p> + Christmas itself was a rather dreary day. Zoeth, although improving, was + not yet strong enough to leave his room, and so the Christmas dinner + lacked his presence at the table. Mary and Shadrach sat with him for an + hour or so, but the doctor and nurse had cautioned them against exciting + him, so, although the Captain joked continually, his jokes were rather + fickle and in his mind was his partner's prophecy of two years before—that + the tide which had, up to that time, been coming in for them, would soon + begin to go out. Shadrach could not help feeling that it had been going + out, for poor Zoeth at any rate. The doctor declared it was coming in + again, but how slowly it came! And how far would it come? This was the + first Christmas dinner he had eaten in years without seeing Mr. Hamilton's + kindly, patient face at the other side of the table. + </p> + <p> + And Mary, although she tried to appear gay and lighthearted, laughing at + her uncle's jokes and attempting a few of her own, was far from happy. + Work, Captain Shad's recipe for producing forgetfulness, had helped, but + it had not cured. And when, as on a holiday like this, or at night after + she had gone to bed, there was no work to occupy her mind, she remembered + only too well. Crawford had written her, as he promised, after his return + home. He wrote that he and his father were reconciled and that he had + resumed his studies. The letter was brave and cheerful, there was not a + hint of whining or complaint in it. Mary was proud of him, proud of his + courage and self-restraint. She could read between the lines and the + loneliness and hopelessness were there but he had done his best to conceal + them for her sake. If he felt resentment toward her, he did not show it. + Lonely and hopeless as she herself was, her heart went out to him, but she + did not repent her decision. It was better, ever and ever so much better, + as it was. He would forget and be happy by and by, and would never know + his father's shameful story. And poor Uncle Zoeth would never know, + either. As for her—well, she must work, work harder than ever. Thank + God there were six working days in the week! + </p> + <p> + She did not answer that letter. After much deliberation she fought down + the temptation and decided not to do so. What was the use? If one wished + to forget, or wished someone else to forget, if it was a real wish and not + merely pretending, the way to bring about that result was to do nothing to + cause remembrance. Letters, even the letters of friends, the most platonic + letters, were reminders. She had begged for Crawford's friendship—she + could not bring herself to let him go without hearing that he forgave her + and would think of her as a friend—but now she vowed she would not + be so silly and childish as to torture him or herself unnecessarily. She + would not do it. And so she did not write. + </p> + <p> + After Christmas came the long, dull winter. It was the most discouraging + season the silent partner of Hamilton and Company had yet put in in her + capacity as manager. There were no cottagers to help out with their + custom, very few new customers, no fresh faces in the store, the same + dreary, deadly round from morning till night. She tried her hardest and, + with the able assistance of Sim Crocker who was proving himself a + treasure, did succeed in making February's sales larger than January's and + those of March larger than either. But she looked forward to April and the + real spring with impatience. She had a plan for the spring. + </p> + <p> + It was in March that she experienced a great satisfaction and gave + Shadrach the surprise and delight of his life by collecting the firm's + bill against Mr. Jeremiah Clifford. Mr. Clifford, it will be remembered, + had owed Hamilton and Company one hundred and ten dollars for a long time. + There was every indication that he was perfectly satisfied with the + arrangement and intended to owe it forever. Mary had written, had called + upon him repeatedly, had even journeyed to Ostable and consulted her + friend Judge Baxter. The Judge had promised to look into the matter and he + did so, but his letter to her contained little that was hopeful. + </p> + <p> + There is money there [wrote the Judge]. The man Clifford appears to be in + very comfortable circumstances, but he is a shrewd [there were indications + here that the word “rascal” had been written and then erased] person and, + so far as I can learn, there is not a single item of property, real or + otherwise, that is in his own name. If there were, we might attach that + property for your debt, but we cannot attach Mrs. Clifford's holdings. All + I can advise is to discontinue selling him more goods and to worry him all + you can about the old bill. He may grow tired of being dunned and pay, if + not all, at least something on account. + </p> + <p> + When Mary read this portion of the letter to her Uncle Shadrach his scorn + was outspoken. + </p> + <p> + “Get tired!” he scoffed. “Jerry Clifford get tired of bein' dunned! DON'T + talk so foolish! Why, he gets fat on that kind of thing; it's the main + excitement he has, that and spendin' a cent twice a day for newspapers. + Did you ever watch Jerry buy a paper? No? Well, you go up to Ellis's some + day when the mornin' papers are put out for sale and watch him. He'll + drive up to the door with that old hoopskirt of a horse of his—that's + what the critter looks like, one of them old-fashioned hoop-skirts; there + was nothin' to them but framework and a hollow inside, and that's all + there is to that horse.—Well, Jerry he'll drive up and come in to + the paper counter, his eyes shinin' and his nerves all keyed up and one + hand shoved down into his britches pocket. He'll stand and look over the + papers on the counter, readin' as much of every one as he can for nothin', + and then by and by that hand'll come out of his pocket with a cent in it. + Then the other hand'll reach over and get hold of the paper he's + cal'latin' to buy, get a good clove hitch onto it, and then for a minute + he'll stand there lookin' first at the cent and then at the paper and + rubbin' the money between his finger and thumb—he's figgerin' to + have a little of the copper smell left on his hand even if he has to let + go of the coin, you see—and—” + </p> + <p> + Mary laughed. + </p> + <p> + “Uncle Shad,” she exclaimed, “what ridiculous nonsense you do talk!” + </p> + <p> + “No nonsense about it. It's dead serious. It ain't any joke to Jerry, you + can bet on that. Well, after a spell, he kind of gets his spunk up to make + the plunge, as you might say, lays down the penny—Oh, he never + throws it down; he wouldn't treat real money as disrespectful as that—grabs + up the paper and makes a break for outdoors, never once lookin' back for + fear he might change his mind. When he drives off in his buggy you can see + that he's all het up and trembly, like one of them reckless Wall Street + speculators you read about. He's spent a cent, but he's had a lovely + nerve-wrackin' time doin' it. Oh, a feller has to satisfy his cravin' for + excitement somehow, and Jerry satisfies his buyin' one-cent newspapers and + seein' his creditors get mad. Do you suppose you can worry such a critter + as that by talkin' to him about what he owes? Might as well try to worry a + codfish by leanin' over the rail of the boat and hollerin' to it that it's + drownin'.” + </p> + <p> + Mary laughed again. “I'm afraid you may be right, Uncle Shad,” she said, + “but I shan't give up hope. My chance may come some day, if I wait and + watch for it.” + </p> + <p> + It came unexpectedly and in a rather odd manner. One raw, windy March + afternoon she was very much surprised to see Sam Keith walk into the + store. Sam, since his graduation from college, was, as he expressed it, + “moaning on the bar” in Boston—that is to say, he was attending the + Harvard Law School with the hope, on his parents' part, that he might + ultimately become a lawyer. + </p> + <p> + “Why, Sam!” exclaimed Mary. “Is this you?” + </p> + <p> + Sam grinned cheerfully. “'Tis I,” he declared. “I am here. That is to say, + the handsome youth whose footfalls you hear approaching upon horseback is + none other than our hero. Mary, you are, as usual, a sight to be thankful + for. How do you do?” + </p> + <p> + Mary admitted that she was in good health and then demanded to know what + he was doing down on the Cape at that time of the year. He sat down in a + chair by the stove and propped his feet against the hearth before + replying. + </p> + <p> + “Why! Haven't you guessed?” he asked, in mock amazement. “Dear me! I'm + surprised. I should have thought the weather would have suggested my + errand. Hear that zephyr; doesn't it suggest bathing suits and outing + flannels and mosquitoes and hammock flirtations? Eh?” + </p> + <p> + The zephyr was a sixty-mile-an-hour March gale. Sam replied to his own + question. + </p> + <p> + “Answer,” he said, “it does not. Right, my child; go up head. But, honest + Injun, I am down here on summer business. That Mr. Raymond, Dad's friend, + who was visiting us this summer is crazy about the Cape. He has decided to + build a summer home here at South Harniss, and the first requisite being + land to build it on he has asked Dad to buy the strip between our own + property and the North Inlet, always provided it can be bought. Dad asked + me to come down here and see about it, so here I am.” + </p> + <p> + Mary considered. “Oh, yes,” she said, after a moment, “I know the land you + mean. Who owns it?” + </p> + <p> + “That's what I didn't know,” said Sam. “But I do know now. I asked the + first person I met after I got off the train and oddly enough he turned + out to be the owner himself. It was old Clifford—Isaiah, Elisha, + Hosea—Jeremiah, that's it. I knew it was one of the prophets.” + </p> + <p> + “So Mr. Clifford owns that land. I didn't know that.” + </p> + <p> + “Neither did I. He didn't tell me at first that he did own it. Asked me + what I wanted to know for.” + </p> + <p> + “Did you tell him?” asked Mary. + </p> + <p> + For the first time since Mr. Keith's arrival that young gentleman's easy + assurance seemed a little shaken. He appeared to feel rather foolish. + </p> + <p> + “Why, yes, to be honest, I did,” he admitted. “I was an idiot, I suppose, + but everyone asks about everyone's else business down here and I didn't + think. He kept talking and pumping and before I realized it I told him + about Raymond's being so anxious to get that property, being dead set on + it and all that, and about my being commissioned to buy at any reasonable + figure. And then, after a while, he astonished me by saying he owned the + land himself. Confound it! I suppose he'll jam the price away up after + what I told him.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, then you haven't bought?” + </p> + <p> + “Not yet. I was willing, but for some reason he wouldn't sell at once—wouldn't + even talk price. Wanted to think it over, he said. I can't wait now, but I + am coming down again on Monday and we shall close the deal then.” + </p> + <p> + That evening Mary told Shadrach what Sam had said. The Captain looked + puzzled. + </p> + <p> + “I didn't know Jerry Clifford owned that land,” he said. “I don't believe + he does.” + </p> + <p> + “Of course he does, Uncle Shad. He wouldn't have told Sam he did own it if + he didn't. What in the world would he gain by that?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, nothin', I presume likely. But he must have bought it mighty recent. + Last I heard Jimmie G. owned that piece. 'Twas part of the property his + father left him. Next time I see Jimmie I'll ask him.” + </p> + <p> + So, three days later, when Jimmie G.—his last name was Peters—passed + the store the Captain hailed him and, inviting him in, went straight to + the point. + </p> + <p> + “When did you sell Jerry Clifford that North Inlet land of yours, Jim?” he + asked. + </p> + <p> + Jimmie G. looked surprised. “How in time did you know I had sold it?” he + demanded. “It beats all how things get around in this town. I never sold + that land until day afore yesterday evenin' and the deed didn't pass till + yesterday, and yet you know the whole business. Not that I care; 'twas + Jerry wanted it kept still. Who told you?” + </p> + <p> + Captain Shad whistled. “I see,” he said slowly. “I see. Yes, yes. When + Jerry told Sam he owned that land he . . . Humph! It's just another case + of the boy lied, that's all. Tut, tut, tut! When you get ahead of Jerry + Clifford you've got to turn out early, ain't you? I hope you got a good + price for the land, Jim.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I didn't; that is, not very big. What's up, anyway? What are you + hintin' at, Cap'n Shad?” + </p> + <p> + Before the Captain could answer, Mary, who had been listening to the + conversation, broke in to ask a question. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Peters,” she cried eagerly, “would you mind telling me this: Whose + name is the new deed in, Mr. Clifford's or his wife's?” + </p> + <p> + Jimmie G. laughed. “Why, that was kind of funny, too,” he said. “You know + Jerry, Cap'n Shad; he never has nothin' in his own name—it's all in + his wife's. That's a principle of his.” + </p> + <p> + “I'd call it a lack of principle,” grunted Shadrach. “Never mind, Jim; go + on.” + </p> + <p> + “But he was in a terrible rush to close the sale, for some reason or + other,” went on Peters, “and I forgot, myself, and had the deed made in + the name of Jeremiah Clifford. He made a big row at first, but it seemed + as if he couldn't wait for me to have it changed, so he handed over his + check and—” + </p> + <p> + “Wait! Wait, please, Mr. Peters!” broke in Mary, her eyes flashing with + excitement. “Just tell me if I understand you correctly. You sold that + land to Mr. Clifford and he owns it now IN HIS OWN NAME?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, yes—sartin.” + </p> + <p> + Mary waited to hear no more. She ran out of the store and to the + post-office. A few minutes later she was talking with Judge Baxter over + the telephone. When she returned the Captain was curious to know where she + had been, but she would not tell him. + </p> + <p> + “Wait,” she said. “Wait, Uncle Shad; I think something is going to + happen.” + </p> + <p> + It happened on Monday morning. Mary was at the desk; Simeon was in the + back room getting ready his early morning orders, and Captain Shad was + standing by the window looking out. Suddenly Mary heard him utter an + exclamation. + </p> + <p> + “What is the matter?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, nothin'.” + </p> + <p> + “You spoke as if you were in pain.” + </p> + <p> + “No wonder. I'm lookin' at somethin' that gives me a pain. That wizened-up + landshark of a Jerry Clifford is in sight, bound to the post-office, I + cal'late. Goin' to put a one-cent stamp on a letter and let the feller + that gets it pay the other cent, I suppose. He always asks the postmaster + to lick the stamp, so's to save the wear and tear on his own tongue. + That's a fact. . . . No,” he added, a moment later, “he ain't goin' to the + office; he's turnin' down the lane here. . . . Eh! Jumpin' fire of + brimstone, I do believe—WHAT in the world?” + </p> + <p> + For Mr. Clifford's step was upon the platform of the store and in another + moment the door opened and the tight-fisted one himself appeared. Shadrach + said nothing; he could only stare in amazement. It had been more than two + years since Jeremiah had crossed that threshold. + </p> + <p> + But he crossed it now. And, after a look about the place, ignoring the + Captain completely, he walked over to the desk. He did not look happy. + Mary, on the contrary, looked very much pleased. + </p> + <p> + “Good morning, Mr. Clifford,” she said. + </p> + <p> + Jeremiah, who was a little thin man, looked up at her from under his heavy + gray eyebrows and above his spectacles. He did not acknowledge the + salutation. + </p> + <p> + “Umph!” he grunted savagely. “You think you're smart, don't ye?” + </p> + <p> + Shadrach started forward. + </p> + <p> + “Why, you—” he began. Mary held up her hand. + </p> + <p> + “Don't interfere, Uncle Shad,” she ordered. “This is Mr. Clifford's affair + and mine. We understand each other perfectly.” Then, turning to the + frowning Jeremiah, she said: “Why, yes, thank you, Mr. Clifford, I do + think I am rather clever—just now. Don't you think I am, yourself?” + </p> + <p> + Again the visitor ignored the question. + </p> + <p> + “What did you go and stick an attachment on that land of mine for?” he + demanded. + </p> + <p> + “Surely you don't need to ask me that, Mr. Clifford. The amount is one + hundred and ten dollars and sixty-three cents. I remember it and I should + imagine you must; certainly it has been called to your attention often + enough.” + </p> + <p> + “Umph! Well, you can keep your darned old attachment.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well; and you can keep your land—what is left, I mean. I think + you will keep it for some time—after I tell Mr. Keith the facts. He + will be here this afternoon, you know.” + </p> + <p> + It was evident that Jeremiah was quite aware of the time of Sam Keith's + arrival. His teeth—the few remaining—snapped together and, as + Captain Shadrach said afterwards, he looked as if undecided whether to + bite or put back his head and howl. Apparently he decided that howling was + safer. + </p> + <p> + “I was cal'latin' to pay that bill of yours, anyhow,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “Of course, and we were calculating that you would,” said Mary sweetly. + “Your calculations and ours are proving true, Mr. Clifford. That's nice, + isn't it?” + </p> + <p> + From the direction of the back room, where Simeon was busy with his + orders, came the sound of a smothered laugh. Shadrach, upon whom + understanding of the situation was just beginning to dawn, slapped his + knee. Mr. Clifford looked positively venomous. + </p> + <p> + “If I pay that bill—that—what was it?—that hundred and + ten dollars you say I owe you—do I get that attachment off my land + right away?” he demanded. + </p> + <p> + “If you pay the one hundred and ten dollars—and the sixty-three + cents—I shall phone Judge Baxter the next minute,” said Mary + promptly. + </p> + <p> + Jeremiah hesitated no longer. He had considered the situation in all its + phases before leaving home and the one hundred and ten dollars was but a + small item compared to his expected profit on the sale of the North Inlet + land. He reached into his pocket, produced a long, dingy leather + pocketbook wound about with twine, unwound the twine, opened the + pocketbook and produced a blank check. + </p> + <p> + “Give me a pen and ink,” he snarled, “and I'll fill this in.” + </p> + <p> + The Captain reached for the pen and ink bottle, but Mary interfered. + </p> + <p> + “Cash, if you please,” she said sweetly. + </p> + <p> + Jeremiah looked at her steadily for what seemed a long time. Then she was + surprised to see the corner of his lip twitch and notice a grim twinkle in + his eye. Also there was a grudging note of admiration in his voice when he + next spoke. + </p> + <p> + “Ain't takin' no chances, be you?” he said dryly. + </p> + <p> + “No. Don't you think we've taken enough already?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Clifford did not answer. He replaced the blank check in his pocketbook + and, from another compartment, extracted some bills rolled in a tight + little cylinder and wound about with elastic. + </p> + <p> + “There you be,” he said shortly. Then, turning to Shadrach, he added: + “Don't I get nothin' off for payin' cash?” + </p> + <p> + From the back room came a vigorous “Haw, haw!” Even Mary laughed aloud. As + for Captain Shad, he could only stare, struck speechless by his visitor's + audacity. Mary, when she had finished laughing, answered for him. + </p> + <p> + “We shall deduct the interest we might have charged you, Mr. Clifford,” + she said. “Thank you. There is your change and there is the receipted + bill. Now, I shall call up Judge Baxter.” + </p> + <p> + When she returned from the post-office Jeremiah was still there. Shadrach, + all smiles, was doing up parcels. + </p> + <p> + “What are those, Uncle Shad?” asked Mary. Mr. Clifford answered. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I thought I might as well buy a little sugar and flour and such,” he + said. “Always come in handy, they do. Send 'em up when you get to it. + Good-by.” + </p> + <p> + His hand was on the door, but Mary called to him. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Clifford,” she called; “just a minute, please. Are you in any hurry + for these things—the sugar and the rest of it?” + </p> + <p> + “No, don't know's I be, 'special'; why?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, nothing, except that if you were in a hurry I should advise your + paying for them. I told you, you remember, that we weren't taking + chances.” + </p> + <p> + For an instant Jeremiah stood there glowering. Then he did another + astonishing thing. He took out the pocketbook once more and from it + extracted a two-dollar bill. + </p> + <p> + “Take it out of that,” he said, “and send me a receipted bill afterwards. + I always cal'late to know what I've paid for. And say, you—what's + your name—Mary-'Gusta, if you get tired of workin' for Shad Gould + and Zoeth Hamilton, come round and see me. I've got—I mean my wife's + got—two or three mortgages that's behind on the interest. I ain't + been able to collect it for her yet, but—but, by time, I believe YOU + could!” + </p> + <p> + He went out and the next moment Mary was almost smothered in her uncle's + embrace. + </p> + <p> + “After this—after THIS,” roared Shadrach, “I'll believe anything's + possible if you've got a hand in it, Mary-'Gusta. If YOU'D been Jonah + you'd have put the whale in your pocket and swum ashore.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0027" id="link2HCH0027"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXVII + </h2> + <p> + Early in April, when Mary announced that she was ready to put into + operation her biggest and most ambitious plan, suggested the year before + by Barbara Howe—the tea-room and gift-shop plan—the Captain + did not offer strenuous opposition. + </p> + <p> + “I can't see much sense in it,” he admitted. “I don't know's I know what + it's all about. Nigh as I can make out you're figgerin' to open up some + kind of a high-toned eatin' house. Is that it?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, no, Uncle Shad, not exactly,” explained Mary. + </p> + <p> + “Then what is it—a drinkin' house? I presume likely that's it, bein' + as you call it a 'tea-room.' Kind of a temperance saloon, eh? Can't a + feller get coffee in it, if he wants to? I don't wake up nights much + hankerin' for tea myself.” + </p> + <p> + “Listen, Uncle Shad: A tea-room—at least a tearoom of the sort I + intend to have—is a place where the summer people, the women and + girls especially, will come and sit at little tables and drink tea and eat + cakes and ice cream and look off at the ocean, if the weather is pleasant—” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, and at the fog, if 'tain't; and talk about their neighbor's clothes + and run down the characters of their best friends. Yes, yes, I see; sort + of a sewin' circle without the sewin'. All right, heave ahead and get your + tea-room off the ways if you want to. If anybody can make the thing keep + afloat you can, Mary-'Gusta.” + </p> + <p> + So Mary, thus encouraged, went on to put her scheme into effect. She had + been planning the details for some time. About halfway down the lane + leading to the house from the store was another small story-and-a-half + dwelling of the old-fashioned Cape Cod type. It stood upon a little hill + and commanded a wide view of ocean and beach and village. There were some + weather-beaten trees and a tangle of shrubs about it. It had been + untenanted for a good while and was in rather bad repair. + </p> + <p> + Mary arranged with the owner, a Bayport man, to lease this house and land + at a small rental for three years. In the lease was included consent to + the making of necessary alterations and repairs and the privilege of + purchasing, at a price therein named, at the end of the three years, + should the tenant wish to do so. + </p> + <p> + Then with the aid of soap and water, white paint and whitewash, attractive + but inexpensive wall papers, and odds and ends of quaint old furniture, of + which the parlor and best bedroom of the Gould-Hamilton home supplied the + larger quantity, she proceeded to make over the interior of the little + building. To every bit of nautical bric-a-brac, pictures of old sailing + ships and sea curios she gave especial prominence. Then the lawn was + mowed, the tangled shrubbery untangled and clipped and pruned; cheap but + pretty lattices made to look like the shrouds of a ship, over which + climbing roses were supposed—some day—to twine, were placed + against the walls, and rustic tables set about under the trees and the + grape arbor with ship lanterns hung above them. The driveway down to the + lane was rolled and hardened, and a sign, painted by Joshua Bemis, the + local “House, Boat and Sign Painter, Tinsmith and Glazier”—see Mr. + Bemis's advertisement in the Advocate—was hung on a frame by the + gateway. + </p> + <p> + Captain Shad's remarks when he first saw that sign may be worth quoting. + Mary had not consulted him concerning it; she deemed it best not to do so. + When it was in place, however, she led him out to inspect. Shadrach + adjusted his spectacles and read as follows: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + THE FOR'ARD LOOKOUT + TEA AND GIFTS + DAINTY THINGS TO EAT + PRETTY THINGS TO BUY + ALL'S WELL! +</pre> + <p> + There was the picture of a full-rigged ship, with every stitch set alow + and aloft, sailing through a sea of thick green and white paint toward a + kind of green wall with green feather dusters growing out of it. + </p> + <p> + Shadrach subjected this work of art to a long and searching stare. At last + he spoke. + </p> + <p> + “Carryin' every rag she can h'ist,” he observed; “nobody at the wheel, + land dead ahead and breakers under the bows. Looks to me as if 'twas + liable to be a short v'yage and a lively one. But the for'ard lookout says + all's well and he ought to know; he's had more experience aboard gift-shop + ships, I presume likely, than I have. What's those bristly things stickin' + up along shore there—eel grass or tea grounds?” + </p> + <p> + For the first few weeks after the tea-room was really “off the ways” the + optimistic declaration of the For'ard Lookout seemed scarcely warranted by + the facts. Mary was inclined to think that all was by no means well. In + fitting out the new venture she had been as economical as she dared, but + she had been obliged to spend money and to take on a fresh assortment of + debts. Then, too, she had engaged the services of a good cook and two + waitresses, so there was a weekly expense bill to consider. And the number + of motor cars which turned in at the new driveway was disappointingly + small. + </p> + <p> + But the number grew larger. As people had talked about Hamilton and + Company's assortment of Christmas goods, so now they began to talk about + the “quaintness and delightful originality” of the For'ard Lookout. The + tea was good; the cakes and ices were good; on pleasant days the view was + remarkably fine, and the pretty things in the gift shop were temptingly + displayed. So, as May passed and June came, and the cottages and hotels + began to open, the business of the new tea-room and gift shop grew from + fair to good and from that to very good indeed. + </p> + <p> + Mary divided her time between the store and the tearoom, doing her best to + keep a supervising eye on each. She was in no mood to meet people and kept + out of the way of strangers as much as possible; even of her former + acquaintances who came to the For'ard Lookout she saw but few. If she had + not been too busy she might have found it amusing, the contrasting studies + in human nature afforded by these former acquaintances in their attitude + toward her. + </p> + <p> + For instance, Mr. and Mrs. Christopher Mullet and daughter, Irene, the + latter now through school and “finished” until her veneering actually + glittered, sat drinking tea at a table on the lawn. Said Mrs. Mullet: + </p> + <p> + “And THIS is what it's come to; after all the airs and frills and the + goin' to Europe and I don't know what all. Here she is keepin' an eatin' + house. An eatin' house—just THINK of it! If that ain't a comedown! + Wouldn't you think she'd be ashamed, 'Rena?” + </p> + <p> + Miss Mullet drooped a weary eyelid and sighed a hopeless sigh. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Mother,” she drawled, in deep disgust, “CAN'T you stop calling me by + that outlandish name? I was christened Irene, I believe. PLEASE remember + it.” + </p> + <p> + “All right, 'Re—all right, Irene; I won't forget again. Oh, there's + Mary-'Gusta, now! Showin' herself out here with all these city folks, when + she's nothin' but a hired help—a table girl, as you might say! I + shan't notice her, anyway. I may buy her tea and stuff, but I—Who's + that runnin' up to her and—and kissin' her—and—mercy on + us! You'd think they was sisters, if you didn't know. Who is it? Looks + kind of common, she does to me. Don't you think so, 'Rena—Irene, I + mean?” + </p> + <p> + Irene sniffed. + </p> + <p> + “That,” she said with cutting emphasis, “is Barbara Howe. Her people are + building that big summer house at Osterville and her father is a + millionaire, so they say. And her people wouldn't let her come to the + school you sent me to because they thought it wasn't good enough for her. + That's how common SHE is. I met her once, but she doesn't know me now, + although she is perfectly crazy over that Mary Lathrop. I—Oh, + there's Father drinking out of his saucer again! For heaven's sake, let's + go home!” + </p> + <p> + And just then Barbara was enthusiastically hugging her former schoolmate + and exclaiming: + </p> + <p> + “You did it! I knew you would if you would only try. I said it required a + knack or a genius or something and that I was certain you had it. It's the + dearest place of the kind I've ever seen, my dear, and if every single + person I know who is in this vicinity doesn't come here at least once a + week and spend lots and lots of money I'll never speak to them again. I'm + going to turn myself into a walking phonograph, my dear, with just one + record: 'If you love me visit the For'ard Lookout.' And of course everyone + loves me—how can they help it? So—well, just wait and see what + happens.” + </p> + <p> + So far as spreading abroad the praises of the new tea-room was concerned, + she was as good as her word. In August the patronage was so great and + continuous that Mary found it necessary to hire three more waitresses and + a salesgirl for the gift shop. She spent more of her own time there, + leaving the care of the store to Shadrach, Simeon Crocker and a new clerk, + who had been hired to help with the summer custom. When early September + brought the beginning of the season's end the books of both the Lookout + and of Hamilton and Company showed a substantial profit. + </p> + <p> + While all this was going on Zoeth was steadily gaining in health and + strength. In July he was sitting in the sunshine upon the front porch. In + August he was able to climb to the buggy seat and be driven up to the + store, where day after day he sat in his armchair behind the counter, + watching what was going on, listening to his partner's happy chatter—for + Shadrach was in high spirits now—and occasionally saying a word or + two himself. On pleasant Sundays he was driven to church and the Captain + and Mary accompanied him. He was white and frail and thin, but the doctor + assured them that, so far as he could see, there was no reason to expect + anything but a complete recovery. + </p> + <p> + It did seem to Captain Shad, however, that his partner had something on + his mind. He seemed often to be thinking deeply and at times to be + troubled and disturbed. The Captain had never asked, never attempted by + questioning to learn what the cause of the trouble—provided there + was any—might be. He had been told often enough that the patient + must not be excited, so he meant to take no risks, but Zoeth's long + silences and the expression on his face as he sat there in the chair, + evidently thinking deeply, puzzled and worried his friend and partner. He + noticed the same expression at times when Mary was in the room. Zoeth's + eyes would follow her as she moved about and in them was the look the + Captain could not understand. + </p> + <p> + Shadrach had told his friend of Mary's sending young Smith away. Zoeth had + asked concerning Crawford almost as soon as he was permitted to take part + in a lengthy conversation. He appeared greatly interested, even eager. + </p> + <p> + “But, Shadrach,” he said, “are you sure she sent him away because she + didn't care for him? Are you sure that was the reason?” + </p> + <p> + “What other reason could there be?” demanded the Captain. “She as much as + told me that was it, herself. I was some surprised, of course, for I'd + rather cal'lated 'twas as good as settled between 'em, but it turned out + that I didn't know what I was talkin' about. That HAS happened afore in my + life, strange as it may seem,” he added dryly. + </p> + <p> + Zoeth sighed. “I wish—” he said slowly, “I wish I knew—” + </p> + <p> + “What do you wish you knew?” + </p> + <p> + “Eh? Oh, nothin'. If—if I was only a little mite stronger I'd try to + talk with Mary-'Gusta myself. I'd like—I'd like to have her tell me + about it.” + </p> + <p> + “Meanin' you don't believe me, eh? There, there, shipmate, it's all right. + I was only jokin'. But I wouldn't ask Mary-'Gusta about that, if I was + you. Course I know she cares as much or more for her Uncle Zoeth than for + anybody on earth, and she'd tell him anything if he asked her; but I don't + believe—Well, I wouldn't ask, if I was you. You understand?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes, Shadrach, I think I understand. You mean she felt bad to have + to say—what she did say—to that young man and she wouldn't + want to be reminded of it?” + </p> + <p> + “That's about it, Zoeth.” + </p> + <p> + Silence for some minutes. Both partners were occupied with their thoughts. + Then Zoeth said: + </p> + <p> + “Shadrach, I—I—” + </p> + <p> + He did not finish the sentence. The Captain ventured to remind him. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Zoeth, what is it?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “Nothin'. I—I can't tell you now. By and by, if the good Lord gives + me strength again, I'll—Never mind, now. Don't ask me, please.” + </p> + <p> + So Shadrach did not ask, but he was puzzled and a little anxious. What was + it his partner had to tell and found the telling so difficult? + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0028" id="link2HCH0028"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXVIII + </h2> + <p> + It was not until a day in mid-September that Captain Shadrach learned his + partner's secret. He and Zoeth and Mary were at the store together. + Business was still good, but the rush was over. The summer cottages were + closing and most of the Cape hotels had already closed. The For'ard + Lookout had taken down its sign at the end of the previous week. Its + voyage for that year was over. It had been a prosperous one. + </p> + <p> + Mary was sorry that the busy season was at an end. She was very, very + tired; she had allowed herself no rest, had taken no holidays, had done + her best to think of nothing except matters connected with Hamilton and + Company or the tea-room. These, fortunately, had given her enough to think + of; other thoughts she resolutely crowded from her mind. Now there would + be no tea-room to plan for, and, thanks to Sim Crocker and the competent + way in which he had assumed care of the store, she no longer felt the + absolute necessity of remaining there from daylight until late in the + evening. Her Uncle Zoeth was almost well, also; she would no longer have + his health as an additional burden upon her mind. She was in danger of + being forced to think of herself, and that she knew she must not do. + Thinking of herself would surely mean thinking of someone else and of what + might have been. And what useless, hopeless thinking that would be! No, + no! She must find something else to keep her thoughts occupied. + </p> + <p> + So she was planning the making over and enlarging of the store front, + putting in larger and better windows and strengthening the platform. She + was discussing the plan with Shadrach and Zoeth when John Keith entered. + The Keiths were leaving South Harniss rather early that year and the head + of the family had dropped in to say good-by. Mr. Keith's liking for Mary + was as strong as ever, and for her uncles he had, by this time, a very + real regard, a feeling which was reciprocated by them. + </p> + <p> + Conversation began in the way the majority of conversations begin, with a + discussion of the weather, its recent past, present, and probable future, + shifted to the tea-room and its success and then to the visitor's recent + trip to New York, from which city he had just returned. It was near the + noon hour and there were few customers to interrupt. Those who did come + were taken care of by Mr. Crocker. + </p> + <p> + “Anything new happenin' over there?” inquired Captain Shadrach, asking + news of the metropolis exactly as he would have asked concerning the + gossip of Harniss Center. “Meet anybody you knew, did you?” + </p> + <p> + Keith smiled. “Why, yes,” he said. “I met the people I went to see. Mine + was a business trip. I didn't meet anyone unexpectedly, if that's what you + mean.” + </p> + <p> + The Captain nodded. “Didn't get down on South Street, did you?” he asked. + “No, I thought not. If you had you'd have met plenty. When I was goin' to + sea I bet I never went cruisin' down South Street in my life that I didn't + run afoul of somebody I wan't expectin' to. Greatest place for meetin' + folks in the world, I cal'late South Street is. Lots of seafarin' men have + told me so.” + </p> + <p> + Keith's smile broadened as he was handed this nugget of wisdom. Then he + said: + </p> + <p> + “You remind me, Captain, that I did meet someone, after all. In Boston, + not in New York, and I met him only yesterday. It was someone you know, + too, and Mary here used to know him quite well, I think—young + Crawford Smith, Sam's Harvard friend. He visited us here in South Harniss + one summer.” + </p> + <p> + Shadrach was the only one of the trio of listeners who made any comment at + all on this speech. Even he did not speak for a moment, glancing + apprehensively at Mary before doing so. Mary said nothing, and Zoeth, + leaning back in his chair, his face hidden from his partner's gaze by the + end of the counter, did not speak. + </p> + <p> + “Sho!” exclaimed the Captain. “Sho! So you met him, did you! In Boston? + That's funny. I had an idea he was out West somewheres.” + </p> + <p> + “So did I. The last I heard concerning him he had given up his studies in + the East here—he was studying medicine, as perhaps you know—and + had gone back to his home in Nevada. His father, who was not at all well, + asked him to do so. He had written Sam once or twice from out there. So I + was surprised enough to see him in Boston. I met him in the South Station + and we chatted for a few moments. He told me that his father was dead.” + </p> + <p> + From behind the end of the counter where Zoeth sat came an odd sound, a + sort of gasp. Shadrach leaned forward quickly. + </p> + <p> + “What's the matter, Zoeth?” he asked. Before Zoeth could answer Mary + spoke: + </p> + <p> + “Dead!” she repeated. “Mr. Keith, I—did—did you say Crawford + Smith's father was DEAD?” + </p> + <p> + Her tone was so strange that even Mr. Keith could not help noticing it. He + looked at her, seemed about to ask a question, and then answered hers + instead. + </p> + <p> + “Why, yes,” he said; “he is dead. He had been in poor health for some + time, so his son told me, and about two weeks ago he died. Crawford did + not tell me any particulars, nor did he say what had brought him East. In + fact, he didn't seem anxious to talk; acted as if he had something on his + mind. Of course I said I was sorry and he thanked me and inquired + regarding Mrs. Keith and Edna and Sam. Then I had to hurry for my train. . + . . Oh, are you going, Mary? Well, then, I must say good-by until next + summer; we leave tomorrow morning.” + </p> + <p> + Mary explained, rather hurriedly, that she must speak with Simeon for a + few minutes, said good-by, shook hands and hastened out. Keith looked + after her. + </p> + <p> + “I hope I haven't made a blunder,” he said, “in speaking of young Smith. + She and he were quite—er—friendly at one time, weren't they. I + understood so from some remarks of Sam's. Didn't put my foot in it by + mentioning the boy's name, did I? I certainly hope not.” + </p> + <p> + Zoeth did not speak. Shadrach hastened to reassure him. + </p> + <p> + “No, no!” he said. “There was one time when even me and Zoeth figgered + there might be—er—well, we didn't know but what he and she was + liable to be more'n just friends. But it's all off now, seems so. They + don't even write each other, I guess. I cal'late maybe Mary-'Gusta got + tired of him,” he explained. “He was a real nice young feller, but he + probably wan't quite good enough for her. Fur's that goes,” he added, with + the emphasis of absolute conviction, “I never laid eyes on one that was.” + </p> + <p> + Keith looked relieved. “Well, I'm glad if I didn't make a mistake,” he + said. “She seemed so startled when I said that the man was dead and her + manner was so odd. Didn't you notice it yourself, Captain?” + </p> + <p> + Shadrach nodded. + </p> + <p> + “I noticed she seemed sort of sot all aback,” he said, “but I don't know's + that's so strange when you consider that she and Crawford used to be such + friends. More'n probable she's heard him talk a good deal about his + father.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, perhaps so. No doubt that is it. I'm afraid she is working too hard + and worrying too much over her various enterprises here. She is succeeding + wonderfully, of course, but I don't like to see her losing those roses in + her cheeks. They're much too precious to lose. Keep your eye on her, + Captain, and don't let her wear herself out.” + </p> + <p> + He soon said good-by. Captain Shadrach accompanied him to the door. Zoeth + remained where he was, not rising even when he shook hands with his + departing friend. But when the Captain turned back he saw his partner + standing by the end of the counter and clutching it with one hand while he + beckoned with the other. Shadrach gave him one look and then crossed the + space between them in two strides. + </p> + <p> + “For the land sakes, Zoeth,” he begged, “what's the matter?” + </p> + <p> + Zoeth waved him to silence. “Sshh! sshh!” he pleaded in a whisper. “Don't + holler so; she'll hear you. Shadrach, I—I—” + </p> + <p> + “What IS it?” broke in his friend. “What's the matter, Zoeth? Shall I + fetch the doctor?” + </p> + <p> + “No, no. I'm—I'm all right, Shadrach. I've just had—had a kind + of shock—a surprise, that's all. I ain't very strong yet and it—it + kind of upset me. But, Shadrach, I want to talk to you. I want to tell you + somethin' right away. I can't keep it to myself any longer. Can't we go + home—to my room or somewheres—where we can talk? Please, + Shadrach!” + </p> + <p> + “There, there, shipmate; take it easy. Go home? Course we can! Hey, Sim!” + shouting to Mr. Crocker, who was in the back room. “You and Mary can take + care of the store, can't you? Zoeth and me are goin' home for dinner.” + </p> + <p> + Simeon replied that Mary was not there; she had gone out the back way, + down to the house, he thought. “But you go ahead, Cap'n Shad,” he added. + “I can take care of the store all right.” + </p> + <p> + At home, and in Mr. Hamilton's room, the Captain pulled forward the most + comfortable chair, forced his partner to sit in it, closed and locked the + door, sat down on the edge of the bed, and said: + </p> + <p> + “There! Now we're all taut and shipshape and nobody can get aboard to + interrupt. Fire away, Zoeth. What is it you've got to tell?” + </p> + <p> + Zoeth, his hand trembling, reached into the inside pocket of his coat, + took out an old-fashioned wallet and from it produced a much-crumpled + envelope. + </p> + <p> + “Shadrach,” he said, “I don't hardly know how to begin. It seems so + strange to think that you and me, who've been so close to each other all + these years, should have a secret between us, if only for a little while. + It seems wicked. I guess 'tis wicked, and I'm the wicked one for keepin' + it from you.” + </p> + <p> + The Captain laughed. + </p> + <p> + “You couldn't be wicked if you was apprenticed to the Old Harry for ten + years, Zoeth,” he said. “You don't know how to be and the devil himself + couldn't teach you. Now, don't waste time tellin' me I'm speaking lightly + of sacred things,” he added. “For one thing, the Old Scratch ain't sacred, + as I know of, and for another I want to hear that secret. What is it?” + </p> + <p> + Zoeth shook his head. “I am wicked, all the same,” he said, “but I guess + I've been punished. There wan't any real reason why I shouldn't have told + you afore, but somehow I couldn't make up my mind to speak of it. I just + couldn't. But I'm goin' to tell you now, Shadrach.” + </p> + <p> + He held up the crumpled envelope. + </p> + <p> + “You remember when I was took sick?” he said. “You remember I was struck + down all of a heap in the kitchen? Yes; well, did you ever wonder what it + was struck me down? I'll tell you. 'Twas a letter that came to me in the + mail that morning. This was the letter. I managed to put it in my inside + vest pocket that time when Isaiah run off after you and left me lyin' + there. I didn't want him to see it. I didn't want anybody to—not + then. Now I want you to read it, Shadrach. But before you do, let me warn + you. You should ask the Almighty to give you strength. You're goin' to be + surprised, Shadrach, surprised and shocked. Here it is; read it.” + </p> + <p> + He handed the envelope to his partner. The latter took it, wonderingly, + and looked at the inscription. + </p> + <p> + “Nobody's handwritin' that I know,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “You knew it once well enough.” + </p> + <p> + “I did? And it was mailed out in Carson City, Nevada. Why, that's where + the Crawford Smith boy lives, ain't it? What on earth?” + </p> + <p> + He opened the envelope and from it took several sheets closely covered + with finely written lines. He began to read and, as he read, his + expression changed from curiosity to wonder, to amazement, to anger, to a + mixture of the last three. The final sheet fell from his fingers to the + floor. He looked up with a very white face. + </p> + <p> + “My God!” he said solemnly. + </p> + <p> + A half-hour later they were still talking. Shadrach had not entirely + recovered from the surprise, but now he could think and speak more + coherently, although the wonder of it all was overpowering. + </p> + <p> + “It seems as if the hand of the Lord was in it,” he declared. + </p> + <p> + “It is,” agreed Zoeth, with absolute conviction. “See how it worked out + accordin' to His promise. The wicked flourished for a time, but God sent + the punishment in due season, didn't He? Can't you see the poor feller's + agonizin' in every line of that letter?” + </p> + <p> + “POOR feller! Good Lord above, Zoeth Hamilton, you ain't pityin' HIM, are + you? You ain't sorry for him—YOU?” + </p> + <p> + Zoeth nodded. “I wan't at first,” he said. “At first the whole thing, + comin' on me out of a clear sky as you might say, knocked me flat. The + doctor, when he came, said he thought I must have had a sudden shock. I + did; that was it, that letter. But later on, when I was gettin' better and + could think again, and when I was alone and had the chance and could read + the letter again, I began to—to—well, not forgive him for what + he done—I don't suppose I can ever do that” + </p> + <p> + “I should say not! Damn him!” + </p> + <p> + “Hush, Shadrach; he's dead.” + </p> + <p> + “So he is. I forgot. Then he's damned, I guess, without any orders from + me.” + </p> + <p> + “He was damned here on earth, Shadrach. All his life—the last part + of it, anyhow—must have been a torment. He must have idolized that + boy of his. He says so in the letter, but it's plain on every line of the + writin' without his sayin' it. And can't you just imagine him as the boy + grew up and they loved each other more and more, tremblin' and scared + every minute for fear that somehow or other his son'll learn that the + father he loves and respects is a—a thief—and—and worse? + Seems to me I can imagine it. And then all at once the boy comes to him + and says he wants to marry—Oh, my soul! Shadrach, think of it!—he + wants to marry your girl and mine—Marcellus's stepdaughter. Why, it + must have driven him nigh crazy. And then they quarrel, and the boy, the + only bein' on earth he's livin' for, goes off and leaves him. And he knows + he's comin' here—to us—and that some time or other he's sartin + to learn everything. No wonder he wrote that letter. No wonder—” + </p> + <p> + The Captain interrupted. + </p> + <p> + “Writin' you, of all people!” he said. “Writin' you and beggin' you not to + let Mary-'Gusta marry his son: and for what? To save the boy from + somethin' bad? No! For all he knew, Mary-'Gusta might be what she is, the + best and finest girl on earth. What he was beggin' for was himself—that + his son shouldn't know what HE was, that's all. No, Zoeth, I can't pity + him much. He's dead, and that's a good thing, too. The wonder of it is + that he's been alive all this time and we didn't know. And to think—but + there; it's all wonderful.” + </p> + <p> + Both were silent for a moment. Then Zoeth said: + </p> + <p> + “The one thing that's troubled me most in all this, Shadrach, is about + Mary-'Gusta herself. How does she really feel towards Crawford? She sent + him away, you told me that, but are you sure she did it because she didn't + care enough for him to marry him? Are you sure there wan't any other + reason?” + </p> + <p> + “She gave me to understand there wan't. What other reason could there be?” + </p> + <p> + “Well—well, Shadrach, it all depends, seems to me. You know + Mary-'Gusta; the last person she thinks about on earth is herself. If she + did think a sight of Crawford, if she thought ENOUGH of him, she wouldn't + let him suffer on account of her, would she? She knew, probably, that he + loved and respected his father and a father's good name must mean a lot to + a son. Then, there is us—you and me, Shadrach. She wouldn't let us + suffer, if she could help it. Do you see what I mean?” + </p> + <p> + “Humph!” mused the Captain, thinking aloud, “I cal'late I do, Zoeth. You + mean if Mary-'Gusta had found out the facts about Ed Farmer, who he was + and what he done, and if she knew Crawford Smith's dad WAS Ed Farmer and + that Crawford didn't know it and we didn't know it—you mean that, + BEIN' Mary-'Gusta, rather than bring sorrow and trouble on Crawford and on + us, she'd sacrifice her own feelin's and—and would pretend she + didn't care for him so as to get him to go away and save him and us. + That's what you mean, I presume likely.” + </p> + <p> + “That's it, Shadrach.” + </p> + <p> + “Um—yes. Well, there's just one thing that makes that notion seem + consider'ble more than unlikely. How in the world could she have found out + that there ever was an Edgar Farmer—” + </p> + <p> + “Good many folks in South Harniss could have told her that if they'd had a + mind to.” + </p> + <p> + “Maybe so; but they couldn't have told her that Edwin Smith, of Carson + City, Nevada, was ever Edgar Farmer. No, sir, they couldn't! Nobody knew + it—but Ed Farmer himself. How could our Mary-'Gusta know it?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know, Shadrach, unless—she's awful smart, you know—somethin' + might have put her on the track and she puzzled it out. I know that ain't + likely; but, Shadrach, if she does care for Crawford and he cares for her, + I—I want 'em to have each other. I do. They must.” + </p> + <p> + Shadrach stared at him. + </p> + <p> + “Zoeth Hamilton,” he exclaimed, “do you know what you're sayin'? You want + our girl to marry the son of the man that—that—” + </p> + <p> + “I know what he did, Shadrach; you don't need to tell me. But he's dead, + and his boy is a good boy—you liked him and so did I. And Shadrach, + I've been thinkin' an awful lot about this since I got the letter and have + been well enough to think. And I've made up my mind to just this: There + has been sorrow and trouble enough brought on already by that wickedness. + There shan't be any more. What wrecked all our lives thirty-five years ago + shan't wreck these two, if I can help it. If Mary-'Gusta cares for him and + he for her they must have each other and be happy. And you and I will be + happy watchin' their happiness.” + </p> + <p> + He paused and then added: + </p> + <p> + “So I wish, Shadrach, there was some way of findin' out for sure that she + sent him away because she didn't care for him and not for any other + reason.” + </p> + <p> + Shadrach rose from his chair and laid his hand on his friend's shoulder. + He cleared his throat once or twice before speaking and there was still a + shake in his voice as he said: + </p> + <p> + “Zoeth, you're a better man than I ever hope to be. I declare you make me + ashamed of myself.” + </p> + <p> + Neither of them ate much dinner, although Isaiah had prepared a cranberry + pie, made from the first fruit of the fall season, and was correspondingly + disappointed when both of his employers left it untouched. + </p> + <p> + “Ain't a mite of use my slavin' myself to death cookin' fancy vittles for + this crew,” he grumbled. “I stood over that cookstove this mornin' until I + got so everlastin' hot that every time the cold air blowed onto me I + steamed. And yet I can't satisfy.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes, you can,” observed Captain Shad, rising from the table. “You + satisfied us too quick, that was the trouble. We was satisfied afore we + got to the pie.” + </p> + <p> + “Umph! I want to know! Well, Mary-'Gusta was satisfied afore that. She + didn't eat hardly anything. Said she wan't hungry. I swan if it ain't + discouragin'! What's the use of you folks havin' a cook? If you're goin' + to have canary-bird appetites, why don't you feed on bird seed and be done + with it? And I do believe I never made a better pie than that!” + </p> + <p> + “Where's Mary-'Gusta?” asked Zoeth. + </p> + <p> + “I don't know. She went up to her room. She may be there yet, or she may + have come down and gone out again—I don't know. If she did come down + I didn't see her.” + </p> + <p> + Shadrach looked out of the window. It had been a dark, gloomy morning and + now it was beginning to rain. The wind was whining through the tops of the + silver-leafs and the moan of the breakers on the bar sounded with a + clearness which denoted the approach of a northeaster. + </p> + <p> + “Dirty weather,” observed the Captain. “And it'll be dirtier yet before + night. You better stay here in snug harbor this afternoon, Zoeth. Simmie + and the boy and Mary-'Gusta and I can tend store all right. Yes, yes, you + stay right here and keep dry. Hope Mary-'Gusta took an umbrella when she + went.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know as she has gone,” said Isaiah. “She may be upstairs in her + room yet. That's where she was.” + </p> + <p> + Shadrach, after calling “Mary-'Gusta” several times at the foot of the + stairs, went up to make sure. The door of Mary's room was closed but, as + he received no answer to his knock, he opened it and entered. Mary was not + there, although it was evident that she had been there very recently. + </p> + <p> + Apparently she had been writing a letter, for her writing case was spread + out upon the table. Also the drawer in which she kept it had been left + open, an unusual act of carelessness on her part, for, generally speaking, + as her Uncle Shad said, “Nothin's ever out of place in Mary-'Gusta's room + except some of the places, and that's the carpenter's fault, not hers.” + </p> + <p> + The Captain stepped over to close the drawer. As he did so his attention + was attracted by a photograph lying upon a pile of photographs in a box + inside the drawer. He picked up the photograph and looked at it. It was + that of Edwin Smith, taken when he seemed to be recovering from his + illness, the one which showed him without a beard. + </p> + <p> + Shadrach's eyes opened wide as he looked at the photograph. He uttered an + exclamation, stepped to the door of the upper hall and called, “Zoeth!” + Then he returned to the table and took from the drawer the next photograph + upon the pile in the box. It was the old, faded picture of the partners of + Hall and Company. + </p> + <p> + Isaiah came stumbling up the stairs. + </p> + <p> + “Anythin' I can do for you, Cap'n Shad?” he asked. “Zoeth, he's gone out + to shut up the barn door. Rain was liable to beat in, he said. I told him + I'd do it, but—Godfreys mighty!” + </p> + <p> + The Captain had paid no attention to him and he had entered the room and + approached his employer from behind. Now over the latter's shoulder he saw + the two photographs. + </p> + <p> + “Godfreys mighty!” cried the startled Isaiah. + </p> + <p> + Shadrach turned and looked at him. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” he demanded, “what's the matter? What are you starin' like that + for?” + </p> + <p> + “Them—them pictures,” gasped Mr. Chase. + </p> + <p> + “Well, what about 'em? Where did Mary-'Gusta get 'em, do you know? Did—Here! + Where are you goin'?” + </p> + <p> + “I—I ain't goin' anywheres. I'm a-goin' downstairs. I got my + dishwashin' to do. I—let go of me, Cap'n Shad! I got to go this + minute, I tell you.” + </p> + <p> + But the Captain did not let go of him. Instead, keeping a firm hold upon + the collar of the frightened cook and steward, he twisted him around until + he could look him straight in the eye. This was difficult, for Isaiah + plainly did not wish to be looked at in that manner. + </p> + <p> + “Humph!” grunted Captain Shad, after a moment's inspection. “Humph! I + cal'late I've got the right pig by the ear this time. Set down in that + chair, Isaiah Chase; I want to talk to you.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0029" id="link2HCH0029"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXIX + </h2> + <p> + The northeaster was developing. It was now raining hard and the wind was + rising. The gusts swept across the top of the little hill and the window + sashes of the For'ard Lookout rattled and the hinges of the ancient blinds + squeaked. The yard, which had been so attractive, was shorn of its + decorations. The tables had been carried inside; the lanterns taken down; + the wonderful sign, pride of the talented Mr. Bemis, had been tenderly + conveyed to the attic. Cook, waitresses and salesgirl had departed. The + tea-room and gift shop had gone into winter quarters to hibernate until + the following spring. + </p> + <p> + The rooms inside had been thoroughly swept and cleaned and most of the + furniture and the best of the old prints covered with dust cloths. Some of + the smaller articles, however, were still upon the shelves of the gift + shop, Mary having ordered her assistants to leave them there, as she + wished to look them over herself before putting them away. Some of her + selections for stock had sold remarkably well and she had been obliged to + reorder many times; others of which she had been quite confident when + purchasing had not sold at all. Both good sellers and bad she meant to + list as a guide to future choosing. + </p> + <p> + She was listing them now. Alone in the room which had once been the sacred + best parlor of the little house, she was seated at the table, pencil in + hand and memorandum books and paper before her. There was no particular + reason why the listing should have been done that day; it might have been + done any day until the weather became too cold to work in an unheated + house. That morning she had had no idea of doing it that afternoon. She + was doing it now because she felt that she must do something to occupy her + mind, and because she wished to be alone. Up there at the For'ard Lookout + she could combine the two—work and seclusion. + </p> + <p> + When Mr. Keith told, at the store that morning, the news of Edwin Smith's—or + Edgar Farmer's—death she had been dreadfully shaken by it. It was so + sudden, so unexpected—when she last heard the man was, so the + doctors said, almost well. She had thought of him often enough during the + past year; or, rather, she had thought of Crawford as being with him and + of the father's joy in his son's return to him and the knowledge that his + own disgraceful secret would not be revealed. And she had pictured + Crawford as finding solace for his disappointed love in his father's + society. That Edgar Farmer had been what Isaiah called him—a + blackguard—she realized perfectly, but she was equally sure that, as + Edwin Smith, he had been the kindest and most loving of fathers. And + Crawford, although he had been willing to leave him because of her, loved + him dearly. + </p> + <p> + And now he was dead, and Crawford was left alone. Somehow she felt + responsible for the death. That it had been hastened by the terrible alarm + and stress of the previous year was, of course, certain. She thought of + Crawford alone and with this new sorrow, and this thought, and that of her + responsibility, was almost more than she could bear. + </p> + <p> + She felt that she must write him, that he must know she had heard and was + thinking of him. So, after leaving the store, she had hastened down to the + house and up the back stairs to her room. There she had written a few + lines, not more than a note, but the composing of that note had been a + difficult task. There was so much she longed to say and so little she + could say. When it was written she remembered that Crawford was in Boston + and she did not know his address. She determined to send the letter to the + Nevada home and trust to its being forwarded. + </p> + <p> + She took from the back of the drawer the box of photographs and looked + them over. As she was doing so Isaiah called her to dinner. Then she heard + her uncles come in and, because she felt that she could talk with no one + just then, she avoided them by hastily going down the front stairs. She + made a pretense of eating and left the house. Isaiah did not see her go. + After stopping at the store long enough to tell Mr. Crocker she would be + at the tea-room that afternoon, she climbed the hill, unlocked the door of + the For'ard Lookout, entered and began her work. + </p> + <p> + The wind howled and whined and the rain beat against the windows. The + blinds creaked, the sashes rattled, the gusts moaned in the chimney above + the fireplace, and all the hundred and one groanings and wailings, the + complaints of an old house in a storm, developed. All these sounds Mary + heard absently, her mind upon her work. Then, little by little as they + drew nearer, she became conscious of other sounds, footfalls; someone was + coming up the walk. + </p> + <p> + She did not rise from her chair nor look up from her work when the outside + door opened. Even when the footsteps sounded in the little hall behind her + she did not turn. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Uncle Shad,” she said. “I am here, and I'm safe and I'm perfectly + dry. Also I'm very, very busy. Now, why did you come out in the rain to + hunt me up? And I'm quite sure you haven't put on your rubbers.” + </p> + <p> + And then the voice behind her said: “Mary.” + </p> + <p> + She turned now—turned, looked, and rose to her feet. Her face went + white, then flushed red, and then paled again. + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” she gasped. + </p> + <p> + Crawford Smith was standing there. His light overcoat—it was not a + raincoat—dripped water; so did the hat in his hand. He stood there + and looked—and dripped. + </p> + <p> + “Mary,” he said again. + </p> + <p> + She caught her breath, almost with a sob. + </p> + <p> + “You!” she exclaimed. “YOU! Oh, how could you? WHY did you come?” + </p> + <p> + He took a step toward her. “Because I felt that I must,” he said. “I had + to come. I came to see you once more. You must forgive me.” + </p> + <p> + She did not speak. He continued: + </p> + <p> + “You must forgive me for coming,” he said again. “There was a question I + had to ask and only you could answer it. It isn't the question I asked + before, although perhaps that—But first I must tell you: Mary, my + father is dead.” + </p> + <p> + She nodded. She could scarcely trust herself to speak, but she tried. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes,” she faltered. “I—I know.” + </p> + <p> + “You know?” he repeated. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Mr. Keith told us this morning. He said he met you in Boston.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I had forgotten; so he did.” + </p> + <p> + “That is how I knew. Oh, Crawford, I am so sorry for you. I have been + writing you. But WHY did you come here again? It—it makes it so much + harder for—for both of us.” + </p> + <p> + He did not answer the question. “You knew my father was dead,” he said + again. “I wonder”—he was speaking slowly and his gaze was fixed upon + her face—“I wonder how much more you know.” + </p> + <p> + She started back. “How much—” she repeated, “How much more—Oh, + what do you mean?” + </p> + <p> + “I mean how much did you know about my father when you and I were together—when + I came on here and asked you to marry me?” + </p> + <p> + She put a hand to her throat. “Oh!” she cried breathlessly. “YOU know! He + told you!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Mary, he told me. Before he died he told me everything. And you knew + it! I know now why you would not marry me—the son of a thief.” + </p> + <p> + She looked at him in pained astonishment. The tears sprang to her eyes. + “Oh, how can you!” she exclaimed. “How can you say that to me? How can you + think it? As if that would make any difference! I learned your father's + name and—and what he had done—by accident. It was only the + night before you came. It would have made no difference to me. For myself + I didn't care—but—Oh, Crawford, how can you think it was + because he was—that?” + </p> + <p> + His eyes were shining. + </p> + <p> + “I don't think it,” he cried triumphantly. “I never have thought it, Mary. + I believe—ever since I knew, I have dared to believe that you sent + me away because you were trying to save me from disgrace. You had learned + who and what my father had been and I did not know. And you feared that if + you married me the secret might come out and I would be ashamed, my career + would be spoiled, and all that. I have dared to believe this and that is + why I came back to you—to ask if it was true. Can't you see? I HAD + to come. IS it true, Mary?” + </p> + <p> + He came toward her. She would have run away if she could, but there was + nowhere to run. + </p> + <p> + “Look at me, Mary,” he commanded. “Look at me, and tell me this: It wasn't + because you didn't love me that you sent me away? It wasn't really that, + was it? Tell me the truth. Look at me now, and tell me.” + </p> + <p> + She tried to look and she tried to speak, but her glance faltered and fell + before his and the words would not come. She could feel the blood rushing + to her cheeks. She put up her hands in mute protest, but the protest was + unavailing. His arms were about her, his kisses were upon her lips, and he + was telling her the things which are told in times like these. And she + struggled no longer, but permitted herself to listen, to believe, to + accept, and to be swept away by the wonderful current of love and destiny + against which she had fought so long. + </p> + <p> + But the struggle was not entirely over. She made one more effort. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Crawford!” she cried a little later. “Oh, Crawford, dear, this is all + wrong. It can't be. It mustn't be. Don't you see it mustn't? We have + forgotten Uncle Zoeth. He doesn't know whose son you are. If he should + learn, it would bring back the old story and the old trouble. He isn't + well. The shock might kill him.” + </p> + <p> + But Crawford merely smiled. + </p> + <p> + “He does know, Mary,” he said. “Father wrote him. I shall tell you the + whole story just as Dad told it to me. Heaven knows it was not a pleasant + one for a son to hear, but I am glad I heard it. The past was bad, but it + is past. You and I have the future for our own and I mean to make it a + clean one and a happy one for us both, God willing.” + </p> + <p> + Shadrach came up the path to the tea-house, leading Isaiah by the arm. Mr. + Chase moved reluctantly, as if led to execution or, at the very least, to + immediate trial for his life. + </p> + <p> + “Now then,” commanded Shadrach, “furl that umbrella and come along in here + with me. I want you to make Mary-'Gusta understand that you've told me the + whole business, about your tellin' her the Ed Farmer yarn and all. After + that you can clear out, because I want to talk to her myself.” + </p> + <p> + He opened the door and, still holding his captive by the arm, strode into + the parlor. There he stood stock still, staring. + </p> + <p> + Crawford held out his hand and the Captain found himself shaking it + warmly. + </p> + <p> + “Captain Gould,” he said, “I know now what I did not know until two weeks + ago, how greatly my father wronged you and your partners. I know the whole + miserable story. But, in spite of it, I am here because I love Mary and I + want to marry her. She has told me that she loves me. I don't know how you + feel about it, but I hope—” + </p> + <p> + The Captain interrupted. “Wait a minute!” he ordered. “Heave to and come + up into the wind a minute; let me get my bearin's. Young feller, if you're + goin' to drop down out of the skies unexpected like this, you—Tut! + tut! tut! Whew!” He waited a moment, then he said: + </p> + <p> + “Mary-'Gusta, come here.” + </p> + <p> + He held out his arms. She came to him and he held her close. + </p> + <p> + “Is it so?” he asked. “Do you care for this young feller enough for that? + Do you, Mary-'Gusta?” + </p> + <p> + He put his finger beneath her chin and lifted her head to look down into + her face. The face was crimson. + </p> + <p> + “Do you, Mary-'Gusta?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + Mary looked up, wet-eyed but smiling. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Uncle Shad,” she said, “I think I do.” + </p> + <p> + “And you want to cruise in his company all your life, eh?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Uncle Shad; but not unless you and Uncle Zoeth are willing.” + </p> + <p> + He bent and kissed her. + </p> + <p> + “Bless your heart, dearie,” he said, “it's all right. Zoeth and me were + talkin' about this very thing a little while ago. And do you know what he + said? He said: 'What wrecked all our lives thirty-five year ago shan't + wreck these two, if I can help it. If Mary-'Gusta cares for him and he for + her they shall have each other and be happy. And we'll be happy watchin' + their happiness.' That's what he said. I don't know's I said 'Amen' + exactly, but I thought it, anyhow. God bless you, Mary-'Gusta. Now you and + Crawford go and see your Uncle Zoeth. He's down at the house. You just run + along and tell him about it.” + </p> + <p> + Mary turned to Mr. Chase. + </p> + <p> + “Well, Isaiah,” she said, “haven't you anything to say to me?” + </p> + <p> + Isaiah looked at Crawford and then at her. + </p> + <p> + “I should say you'd better go somewheres, both of you, and get dry,” he + said. “His overcoat's soakin' wet and your waist ain't much better. I—I—don't + know what sort of—of congratulations or—or whatever they be I + ought to say, but—but I hope you'll be terrible happy, Mary-'Gusta.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, Isaiah,” laughed Mary. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, you're welcome. Now, just let me talk to Cap'n Shad a minute.” + </p> + <p> + He swung about and faced the Captain and in his eye was triumph great and + complete. + </p> + <p> + “Cap'n Shad Gould,” crowed Isaiah, “a good many times in the last four or + five year you've called me a fool for heavin' out hints that somethin' + about like this was liable to happen. Well? WELL? What have you got to say + NOW? Who's the fool NOW? Hey? Who is?” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0030" id="link2HCH0030"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXX + </h2> + <p> + The story of Mary-'Gusta Lathrop is almost told. Before Crawford left + South Harniss, which was not until the end of another week, it had been + decided that on a day in June of the following year she should cease to be + Mary-'Gusta Lathrop. There was a great deal of discussion before this + decision was reached, for many perplexing questions had to be answered. + </p> + <p> + First, there was the question of Crawford's future. His father had left a + comfortable fortune and an interest in mining properties which would have + rendered it quite unnecessary for the young man to keep on with his + professional studies had he wished to discontinue them. But he did not so + wish. + </p> + <p> + “As I think I told you that Sunday afternoon when we first met at Mrs. + Wyeth's, Mary,” he said, “I have always intended to be a doctor. Dad did + not want me to be; he wanted me to come in with him, but I wouldn't do it. + I love my work and I mean to stick to it and go on with it. If I were as + rich as a dozen Rockefellers it wouldn't make any difference. But, as I + see it, I am not rich. It is a grave question in my mind how much of that + money out there belongs to me.” + </p> + <p> + Mary nodded. “I think I understand what you mean,” she said. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I think there is no doubt that almost all of my father's money was + made there in the West after”—he hesitated and then went on—“after + the—the other died and after he married my mother. But nevertheless + I shall always feel as if whatever there was belonged to your uncles, the + surviving members of the old firm. If I could, I should give it to them.” + </p> + <p> + Mary smiled. “Thank you for saying it, dear,” she said, “and I know you + mean it; but it would be no use to offer; they wouldn't take it.” + </p> + <p> + “I know they wouldn't. So we must try and make it up to them in some other + way. But suppose we leave that for a time and get back to my work. I'm + going to keep on with it; I want to and you say that you want me to.” + </p> + <p> + “I do, very much. I am sure you will be happier in that work than in any + other, and besides—I suppose I am ever so unpractical, but I do feel + it—I had rather you made your own way. Somehow the idea of our + depending upon that money out there doesn't—doesn't—Oh, I + can't explain exactly, but I don't like the idea a bit.” + </p> + <p> + “I know. I prefer to paddle my own canoe, if I can. But a young doctor's + canoe is likely to move pretty slowly at first. And I intend taking a + passenger, you know, and I want her to be comfortable.” + </p> + <p> + Mary laughed, a contented little laugh. “She will be,” she declared. “Did + I tell you of the talk Uncle Shad and I had the other day? He saw me + sitting by the dining-room window looking out at nothing in particular—and + looking silly enough, too, I dare say—and he asked me what I was + thinking. I said, 'Nothing much,' which wasn't true, and he said nothing + must be good to think of, I looked so cheerful. I told him I was. Then I + asked him—my conscience troubled me a little, you know—if he + was sure that he and Uncle Zoeth were happy, because I shouldn't be unless + they were.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, that was characteristic. What did he say to that?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, he laughed that big laugh of his and told me not to worry. 'I'M + feelin' pretty average satisfied with life just now, Mary-'Gusta,' he + said, 'and as for Zoeth—well, he asked me this mornin' if I didn't + cal'late 'twas wicked for him and me to be so contented with the things of + this world, so I know HE'S all right. When Zoeth gets real happy he always + begins to feel sinful.' I hope that a consciousness of sin isn't the only + test of happiness,” she added, “because I don't believe you feel wicked + the least bit. At least you have never said you did.” + </p> + <p> + Crawford laughed, and there followed one of those interruptions to + conversation with which, although undoubtedly interesting to the + participants, outsiders are not supposed to be concerned. When it was over + Mary said: + </p> + <p> + “Of course I am not so foolish as to mean that you must not touch the + money your father left. That would be ridiculous. But I mean I think we + should not depend upon it; it should not change our plans or spoil your + life work, or anything like that. It will make life easier for us, of + course, and with its help we can make it easier for other people. I think + that is what we should do with it.” + </p> + <p> + “So do I, my dear. And our first duty, it seems to me, is toward your + uncles. If they would consent, and I suppose there isn't the least chance + that they would, I should like to sell out the store and the Lookout and + the rest of it and take them with us, wherever we decide to go, and give + them an easy, carefree time of it the rest of their lives.” + </p> + <p> + Mary shook her head. “They wouldn't like it a bit,” she said. “That + precious old store is the joy of their lives. Without it they wouldn't + know what to do; they would be as lost and lonesome and miserable as a + pair of stray kittens. No, if we take care of them we must take care of + Hamilton and Company, too. And we mustn't let them know we're doing it, + either,” she added with decision. + </p> + <p> + Crawford looked troubled. “I suppose you're right,” he said; “but it is + likely to be something of a puzzle, their problem. It will mean, of + course, that you and I must go and leave them.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no, we can't do that—not for some time, at any rate.” + </p> + <p> + “It seems to me we must. We have decided, you and I, that I shall go back + West, finish my preparatory work, then come here and marry you. After that—well, + after that we have decided that I am to locate somewhere or other and + begin to practice my profession. You'll go with me then, I presume?” + </p> + <p> + “Silly! Of course I will.” + </p> + <p> + “I hoped so. But if we can't leave your uncles and they won't leave the + store, what are we going to do? Put the store on a truck and take it with + us?” + </p> + <p> + She looked up at him and smiled. “I have a plan,” she said. “I haven't + quite worked it out yet, but if it does work I think it's going to be a + very nice plan indeed. No, I'm not going to tell you what it is yet, so + you mustn't tease. You don't mind my planning for you and bossing you and + all that sort of thing, do you? I hope you don't, because I can't help it. + It's the way I'm made, I think.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't mind. Boss away.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I shall. I'm like that Scotch girl in the play Mrs. Wyeth took me to + see in Boston—Bunty, her name was. She made me think of myself more + than once, although she was ever so much more clever. At the end of the + play she said to her sweetheart, 'William, I must tell ye this: if I marry + ye I'll aye be managin' ye.' She meant she couldn't help it. Neither can + I. I'm afraid I'm a born manager.” + </p> + <p> + Crawford stooped and kissed her. + </p> + <p> + “Do you remember William's answer?” he asked. “I do. It was: 'Bunty, I'll + glory in my shame.' Manage all you like, my lady, I'll glory in it.” + </p> + <p> + The plan did work out and it was this: Doctor Harley, who had practiced + medicine for forty-one years in South Harniss, was thinking of retiring + after two more years of active work. He was willing to sell out his + practice at the end of that time. He liked Crawford, had taken a fancy to + him on the occasion of his first visit to the town when he was a guest of + the Keiths. Crawford, after Mary had suggested the idea to him, called + upon the old doctor. Before the end of the week it was arranged that after + Crawford's final season of college and hospital work he was to come to + South Harniss, work with Doctor Harley as assistant for another year, and + then buy out the practice and, as Captain Shad said, “put up his own + shingle.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't mean to stay here always,” Crawford said, “but it will do me good + to be here for a time. Harley's a tiptop old chap and a thoroughly + competent general practitioner. He'll give me points that may be + invaluable by and by. And a country practice is the best of training.” + </p> + <p> + Mary nodded. “Yes,” she said. “And at the end of this winter I shall have + Simeon Crocker well broken in as manager of the store. And I can sell the + tea-room, I think. My uncles don't care much for that, anyway. They will + be perfectly happy with the store to putter about in and with Simeon to + take the hard work and care off their shoulders they can putter to their + hearts' content.” + </p> + <p> + “But suppose Simeon doesn't make it pay!” suggested Crawford. “That's at + least a possibility. Everyone isn't a Napoleon—I should say a Queen + Elizabeth—of finance and business like yourself, young lady.” + </p> + <p> + Mary's confidence was not in the least shaken. + </p> + <p> + “It will pay,” she said. “If the townspeople and the summer cottagers + don't buy enough—well, you and I can help out. There is that money + in the West, you know.” + </p> + <p> + He nodded emphatically. + </p> + <p> + “Good!” he cried. “You're right. It will be a chance for us—just a + little chance. And they will never know.” + </p> + <p> + He went away at the end of the week, but he came back for Christmas and + again at Easter and again in the latter part of May. And soon after that, + on a day in early June, he stood, with Sam Keith at his elbow, in the + parlor of the white house by the shore, while Edna Keith played “Here + Comes the Bride” on the piano which had been hired for the occasion; and, + with her hand in Zoeth's arm, and with Captain Shadrach and Barbara Howe + just behind, Mary walked between the two lines of smiling, teary friends + to meet him. + </p> + <p> + It was a lovely wedding; everyone said so, and as there probably never was + a wedding which was not pronounced lovely by friends and relatives, we may + be doubly certain of the loveliness of this. And there never was a more + beautiful bride. All brides are beautiful, more or less, but this one was + more. Isaiah, who had been favored with a peep at the rehearsal on the + previous evening, was found later on by Shadrach in the kitchen in a state + of ecstatic incoherence. + </p> + <p> + “I swan to godfreys!” cried Isaiah. “Ain't—ain't she an angel, + though! Did you ever see anything prettier'n she is in them clothes and + with that—that moskeeter net on her head? An angel—yes, + sir-ee! one of them cherrybins out of the Bible, that's what she is. And + to think it's our Mary-'Gusta! Say, Cap'n Shad, will checkered pants be + all right to wear with my blue coat tomorrow? I burnt a hole in my + lavender ones tryin' to press the wrinkles out of 'em. And I went down to + the wharf in 'em last Sunday and they smell consider'ble of fish, + besides.” + </p> + <p> + The wedding company was small, but select. Judge Baxter and his wife were + there and the Keiths—Mrs. Keith condescended to ornament the + occasion; some of the “best people” had seen fit to make much of Mary + Lathrop and Mrs. Keith never permitted herself to be very far behind the + best people in anything—and Mrs. Wyeth was there, and Miss Pease, + and Mr. Green who had received an invitation and had come from Boston, and + Doctor Harley, and Simeon Crocker and his “steady company,” one of the + tea-room young ladies, and Annabel and—and—well, a dozen or + fifteen more. + </p> + <p> + When the minister asked, “Who giveth this woman to this man?” Zoeth + answered, bravely, “I do—that is, me and Shadrach.” But no one + laughed, because Zoeth himself was trying to smile and making rather wet + weather of it. As for the Captain, his expression during the ceremony was + a sort of fixed grin which he had assumed before entering the room and had + evidently determined to wear to the finish, no matter what his emotions + might be. But Miss Pease, always susceptible, had a delightful cry all to + herself, and Isaiah, retiring to the hall, blew his nose with a vigor + which, as Captain Shad said afterwards, “had the Pollack Rip foghorn + soundin' like a deef and dumb sign.” + </p> + <p> + Mary had managed everything, of course. Her uncles had tried to + remonstrate with her, telling her there were plenty of others to arrange + the flowers and attend to what the local newspaper would, in its account + of the affair, be sure to call the “collation,” and to make the hundred + and one preparations necessary for even so small and simple a wedding as + this. But she only laughed at their remonstrances. + </p> + <p> + “I wouldn't miss it for anything,” she said. “I have always wanted to + manage someone's wedding and I am certainly not going to let anyone else + manage mine. I don't care a bit whether it is the proper thing or not. + This isn't going to be a formal affair; I won't have it so. Uncle Shad, if + you want to say 'Jumpin' fire' when Crawford drops the ring, as he is + almost sure to do, you have my permission.” + </p> + <p> + But Crawford did not drop the ring, and so the Captain's favorite + exclamation was not uttered, being unnecessary. In fact there were no + mishaps, everything went exactly as it should, reception and “collation” + included, and, to quote from the South Harniss local once more, “A good + time was had by all.” + </p> + <p> + And when the bride and groom, dressed in their traveling costumes, came + down the stairs to the carriage which was to take them to the station, + Mary ran back, amid the shower of rice and confetti, to kiss Uncle Zoeth + and Uncle Shad once more and whisper in their ears not to feel that she + had really gone, because she hadn't but would be back in just a little + while. + </p> + <p> + “And I have told Isaiah about your rubbers and oilskins when it rains,” + she added, in Shadrach's ear, “and he is not to forget Uncle Zoeth's + medicine. Good-by. Good-by. Don't be lonesome. Promise that you won't.” + </p> + <p> + But to promise is easy and to keep that promise is often hard, as Shadrach + observed when he and Zoeth were alone in the sitting-room that evening. “I + feel as if the whole vitals of this place had gone away on that afternoon + train,” the Captain admitted. “And yet I know it's awful foolish, 'cause + she'll only be gone a couple of weeks.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm glad that question about the name is settled,” mused Zoeth. “That + kind of troubled me, that did.” + </p> + <p> + The partners had worried not a little over the question of whether + Crawford's name was legally Smith or Farmer. If it were Farmer and he must + be so called in South Harniss, they feared the revival of the old scandal + and all its miserable gossip. But when they asked Crawford he reassured + them. + </p> + <p> + “I consulted my lawyer about that,” he said. “My father's middle name was + Smith; that is why he took it, I suppose. Edwin Smith is not so very + different from Edgar Smith Farmer, shorter, that's all. He and my mother + were married under the name of Smith. Mother never knew he had had another + name. I was born Smith and christened Smith and my lawyer tells me that + Smith I am. If there had been any question I should have petitioned to + have the name changed.” + </p> + <p> + So that question was settled and Shadrach and Zoeth felt easier because of + it. + </p> + <p> + “Zoeth,” observed Shadrach, after replying to his friend's remark + concerning the name, “do you know what I kind of felt as if we'd ought to + have had here this afternoon?” + </p> + <p> + “No, Shadrach,” replied Zoeth, “I don't. What was it?” + </p> + <p> + “Seemed to me we'd ought to had one of them music box chairs. I'd like to + have put it under that Keith woman and seen her face when the Campbells + started to come. Ho, ho!” + </p> + <p> + “What in the world made you think of that?” demanded his partner. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I don't know. Thinkin' about Mary-'Gusta, I cal'late, set me to + rememberin' how we fust met her and about Marcellus's funeral and all. + That made me think of the chair, you see. I ain't thought of it afore for + years.” + </p> + <p> + Zoeth nodded. “Shadrach,” he said, “that was a blessed day for you and me, + the day when we brought that child home in our old buggy. The Lord put her + there, Shadrach.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I guess likely He did, maybe, in a way of speakin'. Does seem so, + that's a fact.” + </p> + <p> + “Our lives was pretty sot and narrow afore she came. She's changed + everything.” + </p> + <p> + “That's so. Hello! What's that noise? I declare if it ain't Isaiah liftin' + up his voice in song! In a hymn tune! What do you think of that?” + </p> + <p> + From the kitchen, above the rattle of dishes, Mr. Chase's nasal falsetto + quavered shrilly: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “There shall be showers of blessin's—” + </pre> + <p> + The Captain interrupted. + </p> + <p> + “Hi, you—what's your name—Jennie Lind—come in here,” he + hailed. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Chase appeared, his arms dripping soapsuds. “What do you want, callin' + me out of my name?” he demanded. + </p> + <p> + “Want to know what started you singin' about blessin's? Fust I thought + 'twas the weathervane squeakin'. What tuned you up, eh?” + </p> + <p> + Isaiah looked rather foolish, but he grinned. + </p> + <p> + “I was thinkin' about Mary-'Gusta,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “You was, eh? Well, she's been a blessin' to us, there's no doubt about + that.” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed she has,” concurred Zoeth. + </p> + <p> + But Isaiah had the final word. + </p> + <p> + “Huh!” he declared, “she's more'n one blessin', she's a whole shower. + That's what set me to singin' about 'em.” + </p> + <p> + He departed for the kitchen once more, the falsetto rising triumphant: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “There shall be showers of blessin's, + Send 'em upon us, oh Lord!” + </pre> + <p> + Captain Shad looked after him. Then he turned to his friend and partner + and said earnestly: + </p> + <p> + “Do you know, Isaiah's gettin' real kind of sensible in his old age.” + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + + +<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MARY-'GUSTA ***</div> +<div style='text-align:left'> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will +be renamed. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright +law 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. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part +of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project +Gutenberg™ electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG™ +concept and trademark. 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