Maida went, and found Wheeler quite ready for a stroll
Which way? he asked as they crossed the south veranda.
Round the park, and bring up under the tree, and have tea there, dictated Maida, her heart already lighter as she obeyed her mothers dictum to avoid unpleasant subjects.
But as they walked on, and trivial talk seemed to pall, they naturally reverted to the discussion of their recent guests.
Mr. Appleby is an old curmudgeon, Maida declared; Mr. Keefe is nice and well-behaved; but the little Lane girl is a scream! I never saw any one so funny. Now she was quite a grand lady, and then she was a common little piece! But underneath it all she showed a lot of good sense and Im sure in her work she has real ability.
Appleby wouldnt keep her if she didnt have, her father rejoined; but why do you call him a curmudgeon? Hes very well-mannered.
Oh, yes, he is. And to tell the truth, Im not sure just what a curmudgeon is. But hes it, anyway.
I gather you dont especially admire my old friend.
Friend! If hes a friend give me enemies!
Fie, fie, Maida, what do you mean? Remember, he gave me my pardon.
Yes, a high old pardon! Say, dad, tell me again exactly how he worded that letter about the tree.
Ive told you a dozen times! He didnt mean anything anyhow. He only said, that when the big sycamore tree went into Massachusetts I could go.
What a crazy thing to say, wasnt it?
It was because we had been talking about the play of Macbeth. You remember, Till Birnam Wood shall come to Dunsinane.
Oh, yes, and then it did come by a trick.
Yes, the men came, carrying branches. Wed been talking about it, discussing some point, and then it seemed clever, I suppose to Appleby, and he wrote that about the sycamore.
Meaning never?
Meaning never.
But Birnam Wood did go.
Only by a trick, and that would not work in this case. Why, are you thinking of carrying a branch of sycamore into Massachusetts?
Maida returned his smile as she answered: Id manage to carry the whole tree in, if it would do any good! But, I spose, old Puritan Father, youre too conscientious to take advantage of a trick?
Cant say, till I know the details of the game. But I doubt Applebys being unable to see through your trick, and then where are you?
That wouldnt matter. Trick or no trick, if the big sycamore went into Massachusetts, you could go. But I dont see any good plan for getting it in. And, too, Sycamore Ridge wouldnt be Sycamore Ridge without it. Dont you love the old tree, dad?
Of course, as I love every stick and stone about the place. It has been a real haven to me in my perturbed life.
Suppose you had to leave it, daddy?
I think Id die, dear. Unless, that is, we could go back home.
Isnt this home?
Its the dearest spot on earth outside my native state.
There, there, dad, dont lets talk about it. Were here for keeps
Heaven send we are, dearest! I couldnt face the loss of this place. What made you think of such a thing?
Oh, Im thinking of all sorts of things to-day. But, father, while were talking of moving couldnt you oh, couldnt you, bring yourself, somehow, to do what Mr. Appleby wants you to do? I dont know much about it but father, darling, if you only could!
Maida, my little girl, dont think I havent tried. Dont think I dont realize what it means to you and Jeff. I know oh, I do know how it would simplify matters if I should go over to the Appleby side and push Sams campaign as I could do it. I know that it would mean my full pardon, my return to my old home, my reunion with old scenes and associations. And more than that, it would mean the happiness of my only child my daughter and her chosen husband. And yet, Maida, as God is my judge, I am honest in my assertion that I cant so betray my honor and spend my remaining years a living lie. I cant do it, Maida I cant.
And the calm, sorrowful countenance he turned to the girl was more positive and final than any further protestation could have been.
CHAPTER V
THE BUGLE SOUNDED TAPS
Although the portions of the house and grounds that were used by Wheeler included the most attractive spots, yet there were many forbidden places that were a real temptation to him.
An especial one was the flower-covered arbor that had so charmed Genevieve and another was the broad and beautiful north veranda. To be sure, the south piazza was equally attractive, but it was galling to be compelled to avoid any part of his own domain. However, the passing years had made the conditions a matter of habit and it was only occasionally that Wheelers annoyance was poignant.
In fact, he and his wife bore the cross better than did Maida. She had never become reconciled to the unjust and arbitrary dictum of the conditional pardon. She lived in a constant fear lest her father should some day inadvertently and unintentionally step on the forbidden ground, and it should be reported. Indeed, knowing her fathers quixotic honesty, she was by no means sure he wouldnt report it himself.
It had never occurred probably never would occur, and yet, she often imagined some sudden emergency, such as a fire, or burglars, that might cause his impulsive invasion of the other side of the house.
In her anxiety she had spoken of this to Samuel Appleby when he was there. But he gave her no satisfaction. He merely replied: A condition is a condition.
Curtis Keefe had tried to help her cause, by saying: Surely a case of danger would prove an exception to the rule, but Appleby had only shaken his head in denial.
Though care had been taken to have the larger part of the house on the Massachusetts side of the line, yet the rooms most used by the family were in Connecticut. Here was Mr. Wheelers den, and this had come to be the most used room in the whole house. Mrs. Wheelers sitting-room, which her husband never had entered, was also attractive, but both mother and daughter invaded the den, whenever leisure hours were to be enjoyed.
The den contained a large south bay window, which was Maidas favorite spot. It had a broad, comfortable window-seat, and here she spent much of her time, curled up among the cushions, reading. There were long curtains, which, half-drawn, hid her from view, and often she was there for hours, without her fathers knowing it.
His own work was engrossing. Cut off from his established law business in Massachusetts, he had at first felt unable to start it anew in different surroundings. Then, owing to his wifes large fortune, it was decided that he should give up all business for a time. And as the time went on, and there was no real necessity for an added income, Wheeler had indulged in his hobby of book collecting, and had amassed a library of unique charm as well as goodly intrinsic value.
Moreover, it kept him interested and occupied, and prevented his becoming morose or melancholy over his restricted life.
So, many long days he worked away at his books, and Maida, hidden in the window-seat, watched him lovingly in the intervals of her reading.
Sitting there, the morning after Samuel Applebys departure, she read not at all, although a book lay open on her lap. She was trying to decide a big matter, trying to solve a vexed question.
Maidas was a straightforward nature. She never deceived herself. If she did anything against her better judgment, even against her conscience, it was with open eyes and understanding mind. She used no sophistry, no pretence, and if she acted mistakenly she was always satisfied to abide by the consequences.
And now, she set about her problem, systematically and methodically, determined to decide upon her course, and then strictly follow it.
She glanced at her father, absorbed in his book catalogues and indexes, and a great wave of love and devotion filled her heart. Surely no sacrifice was too great that would bring peace or pleasure to that martyred spirit.
That he was a martyr, Maida was as sure as she was that she was alive. She knew him too well to believe for an instant that he had committed a criminal act; it was an impossibility for one of his character. But that she could do nothing about. The question had been raised and settled when she was too young to know anything about it, and now, her simple duty was to do anything she might to ease his burden and to help him to forget.
And, she said to herself, first of all, he must stay in this home. He positively must and thats all there is about that. Now, if he knows if he has the least hint that there is another heir, hell get out at once or at least, hell move heaven and earth to find the heir, and then well have to move. And where to? Thats an unanswerable question. Anyway, Ive only one sure conviction. Ive got to keep from him all knowledge or suspicion of that other heir!
Maybe it isnt true maybe Mr. Appleby made it up but I dont think so. At any rate, I have to proceed as if it were true, and do my best. And, first of all, Ive got to hush up my own conscience. Ive too much of my fathers nature to want to live here if it rightfully belongs to somebody else. I feel like a thief already. But Im going to bear that Im going to live under that horrid conviction that Im living a lie for fathers sake.